Seth does his mind thing.  He doesn't have to go far to find someone who knows who the dentist is.  You do.

It's the guy from the kendo match.  The one who was shot in his car.  That guy.  He's the one who did the filling on this old man.

Shit.

To Saul and my parents: "Well now what? Do we toss the clinic? How can we trace this connection?"

To the Toothbearer: "Look, man, you've got a radio transmitter in a filling and it's controlling some terrorists' explosives. I believe you, but the police won't, and you'll be in solitary faster than you can say 'I'm innocent.'"

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 2):

Grandpa just blinks.  "What?"

He's clearly out of his comfort zone.

Saul sighs.  "Lemme handle this guy.  You guys are probably better suited to handling the bombs."

Mother shrugs.  "If we have all the bombs at the bottom of that filthy lake, what's the issue then?"

Dad is staring around the room.  "If this is a shake down, someone has to be ready nearby to scoop up the loot."

"I love it when you sound Noir movie."

Dad ignores her.  "But if I were them, I wouldn't want to be inside the building in case the bombs do go off.  So.  Someone nearby outside.  Who's keeping an eye on the place?"
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 02:36, Sun 12 Nov 2023.

Oh no, Sera's one weakness. Being nice to stupid people!

I appreciate Mother's attitude, since I have much the same instincts. What's the big deal? Saul is a cop's kid, though, and Dad has actually fought real crime instead of just playacting, so I should probably follow their lead.

"Guess we case it," I reply to Dad, and so we go. To find anybody suspicious.

I miss my private space. It was nice to be able to take a nap just whenever I wanted to.

"Should I go with you people?"

Saul pats the Old Guy on the shoulder.  "No.  I'm not thinking so."  He glances at you.  "Will we be okay if we wait here for you?"

"It'll be fine. I'll stick around."  Mother isn't hiding the fact she's a little bored.  She waves you and Dad off.  "Go on.  Go bond.  I'll hold down the home fires.  Or whatever the saying is."

Dad scowls and then puts a calloused hand lightly on top of your head, mussing up your hair a bit.  "Let's go."

Outside, people are milling about.  Parents Weekend apparently has a big attendance.

You and Dad scout about.  You find three likely suspects.

There's one woman who is standing by a light pole, adjusting her make up in a compact.  But the compact isn't a compact.  It's like some spy do-hickey.  With a screen instead of a mirror.  Since she's frozen, you can't make out the image on it.  It was flickering when you went into Limbo.

There's a man in a car watching the gym with binoculars.  By his side is a half eaten chili dog and a Mr. Pibb Zero.

Dad seems to be glowering at a security guard.  He keeps staring at that guy.

"What's wrong with that guy?" I ask Dad, while fixing my hair.

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 6):

Dad looks over at you and then back at him.  He gestures towards the guard with his chin.

"That's the first security guard I've seen on campus.  Like all day and yesterday.  Does Saint George have security guards?"

You can't recall seeing any before now.

"Not that I've seen. I figured that they either just stayed in security rooms or the school relied on the monitors because they're cheap. Now that you mention it, most big schools have their own police departments."

I take out my phone to check the student handbook and search up 'security,' 'guard,' 'police,' or any related term I can think of.

While searching, I comment, "Now that guy over there, he's really suspicious. Who drinks Mr. Pibb on purpose, let alone Pibb Zero? That has to be some kind of crime against nature."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 8):

Dad shrugs.  "Could be worse.  Could be a Fresca.  Or a Chocolate Soldier.  Do they even make those anymore?"

The phone wouldn't be able to pull up the handbook while you are in Limbo, would it?  Wouldn't you need to step back into real time to get a signal?

I shrug. "I don't know what those are, but I don't like soda anyway."

I figured it would be downloaded already, but if that's not the case, that is fine.

I thought I'd downloaded the manual, or at least the pdf would still be in my browser history, but no luck. I put my phone away.

"I've never investigated something like this before. To me it looks like any of those three suspicious people could be a problem, so we might want to interrogate all of them. Who would you start with, Dad?"

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 10):

Sorry.  Missed this post.

It's reasonable you would have downloaded it.  I think you did in the very first story arc now that I think about it.

So let's assume you did

Per the Handbook, there is a number for "Security".  But that's all it really says.  The handbook advises students to contact their closest Monitor in cases of emergency.  Or call 911 as needed.

Dad studies all three and shrugs.  "Ladies' choice."

I forgive you.

I pause for several seconds, wheels turning. This is completely unlike the parents I know. They've always had a plan for me. Always demanded specific things in particular orders.

"You two have never been this uncommitted about anything around me. Am I being tested again?"

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 12):

Dad blinks several times.  You seem to have actually surprised him.  His looks is a bit unreadable.  "Seraphina...do you think all I do is test you?"

"No, but this is starting to seem like a test. I've never seen you noncommittal before. The same regarding Mother."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 14):

Dad slowly shakes his head.  "No more tests Princess.  You're a big girl now.  You'll need to make your own decisions.  And while I'll always have your back, I can't tell you what to do.  I'd like to.  If I'm honest, I'd love to set it up so you'll always be happy and safe."

He smiles, a sort of crinkled up smile that looks like it's been thrown into one of those machines that smash old cars into cubes.

"But...you wouldn't like that, right?  You are capable.  And you can handle things on your own.  Am I wrong in wanting to give you a chance to prove that?"

I am so terribly busy. And sorry. I really need to pick this up as a daily habit again, like in the Good Old Days.

I put my hands on my hips and think about what Dad said before responding. He's either lying or just not as smart as I thought. Of course this is a test. Apparently, a test of my ability to take initiative. I hope it's as competent as it appears, rather than Dad just not understanding himself well enough.

Or maybe that means I have surpassed my parents.

Maybe.

"No, you're not wrong." I smile at him. "I'm just not used to it. Security guard guy is the most out-of-place, so I'll start with him."

Unless Dad interrupts me, I go over that-a-way, grab the "guard" by the shoulder, and pull him into Lim-

Sideways.

I really don't like thinking about being able to enter and leave the land of the dead at will.

"Don't panic, sir. I just need to ask you some questions."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 16):

No worries.  RL always comes first.  Always

Dad says nothing and doesn't stop you.

The security guard blinks, jumps sideways, blinks some more while looking around, and pulls out his Taser.

"Stop!  Don't move!  Unless that's how your power works!  Then move!  Or something!"

Brusquely, "There's an active terrorist threat. I'm a monitor for the school. Do you have a badge?"

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 18):

He peers at you.  Then taps the badge on his uniform.  He's not close enough for you to make out much detail on it though.

"How do I know you're not the threat?"

I walk a few steps closer so I can make out his badge.

"I am Seraphina Martel. What's your named and badge number?"

If he's really security, he'll know who I am, either directly or as a monitor.

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 20):

He narrows his eyes farther. "You're a student here, aren'tcha?  Well.  That don't mean you aren't involved!  So stay back!"

You can make out Harry Hillson.  You can't quite make out the badge number yet.

Getting closer?

Yes.

I keep getting closer, but slowly. I don't want to spook him. Well, if he's a terrorist, then actually I do, but I know what I mean. "Mr. Hillson, I've never seen a security guard at St. George's before."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 22):

"Maybe you just haven't looked for one.  Ever thought a' that?"

His eyes flick in Dad's direction and then back to you.  "Ah hell."

He fires his taser.

We've never spoken of this, but I am assuming that since he is in the Gray Scale/Limbo/Outside Time with you, then he can take actions.  Like firing a taser at you.

Let me know your thoughts.  And if you think the taser would effect you.

That makes sense to me. I don't know if it should affect her. You've made it seem like superpowers are super duper before and that truck-juggling strength is common, but it also seems like powers are generally pretty low-tier at the same time. I don't know. What do you think?

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 24):

Thanks.

I am assuming Dad and Sera are kind of on...uhmmm...maybe The Thing from the Fantastic Four level strength.  Not the strongest (in terms of raw power), but up there none the less.

Invulnerability is different than super strength.  Even an Olympic weight lifter is going to feel a taser.

So it just depends on how you define Sera in that category.  Is she super strong, but just as vulnerable as anyone else?  A glass cannon so to speak.

Or does she have some toughness that goes with it?

Last year in the date episode she got in a truck-throwing contest and everybody involved was able to clear like two football fields with a hurled pickup, which is where I'm getting my impression. If you want to tone it down, that's okay by me. I just want to have consistently-defined parameters. Same thing with speed and toughness. Maybe we should take some time to define things. Or not. Your call, really. That level of strength was noted, as was super speed and toughness independent of the time powers, the former inherited from her father and the latter form her mother, and the whole suite at very high levels. But again, if you want to change it, then okay.

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 26):

I'm fine with the strength level.  She's meant to be super dupes strong and she is.

For Invulnerability:  I am assuming Sera can shrug off the taser this guy is trying to hit her with.  If someone dropped a live power cable on her, how would that affect her?

And what about being shot?  What kind of gun/rifle/tank would be powerful enough for her to feel it?

Speed:  I am assuming she can super leap.

I would not think she could run like the Flash, but then again with her time freeze power, I wouldn't think running speed would be much of an issue.  But let's define that as well for reference.  I would not think Sera is the Flash.  But I could see her being a very capable sprinter.  That sound about right?

Anything else you can think of?

Well, before when her power was time control, she was more durable than a normal person but not so much invulnerable as able to regenerate so fast that it might as well be invulnerability, and more severe damage took concentration. I.e., she still felt pain and took damage, but she reversed her personal timeline to when she wasn't damaged.

Since it's been revealed that she never had time powers at all, regular invulnerability is probably better.

As for what's powerful enough to hurt her, I'd like to know what the general super level of the setting is. She should be on the very high end, whatever that is, but that could be anywhere from 'doesn't need a bulletproof vest' to 'may as well be a deity.' Same with strength and really everything power.

I never envisioned her as having super-speed in and of itself, just time powers that made it look to external observers as if she had supreme speed faster than anything else. You know, cheating, rather than actually being faster. But she doesn't have time powers.

Basically, I'm fine with just about any level of superpowers, but whatever the levels are in the setting itself, I want Sera to be in the the top ranks of them.

Does that make sense?

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 28):

Makes perfect sense.  Thanks.

So you are about at the Fantastic Four level of power.  There aren't any Supermen  in this world.  Though there are some bad guys who are on the world threat kind of level (think I mentioned them in a post waaaaaaayyy back at the start of the game).

Okay.  I will assume then it takes a great deal of electrical power to make you notice.  So...

The taser wires leave smolder marks on your shirt.  The current doesn't even tickle.

The "guard" looks at you, then at Dad, then mutters, "Shit.

"Look.  I'm just tryin' to pay off my student loans.  They said this would be an easy score.  I can show you where the bombs are."

I would prefer, ideally, that she would be able to take on the biggest baddest villains in one-on-one combat and win more often than she loses.

I slowly look down at my shirt, brush off the taser wires, and look back up at the fake guard.

"Sure. Go ahead."

I wait for him to do that. I expect that we found them all, but there may be some we didn't get. I am careful to be taciturn and not promise him anything, since once we release him to the real cops, it'll be out of our hands what they charge him with.

You did find them all.

Each time he shows you a new spot, and the bombs are already gone, he seems to get more nervous.

At the last spot he wipes sweat off his forehead.  "Okay.  You really gotta believe me.  This is all of 'em that I know about.  I don't know of any others.  This should be all of 'em.  So...I'm guessing you're not going to let me go?"

He chews his lip a moment and then says, "Look.  There's one more thing I can tell ya.  It's who's running the show.  I mean...I don't know their name or anything.  But I do know something that might help you find them.  You let me jet, and I'll share it."

I don't promise him anything, mostly because I can't in good faith.

"Who else is in on it?" I prompt, using my patented ice queen stare, stance, and general aura of menace that has, in fact, made grown men wet themselves on several occasions.

He thinks about it a moment, then sighs.  "We're supposed to meet up at a motel afterwards.  One in town.  The Sleepy Inn.  Room 14."

He shakes his head.  "I don't know who else is involved.  Everything I did was by phone an' IMs.  No personal contact."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:41, Fri 29 Dec 2023.

I press the issue. "What time? What numbers in the calls and IMs?"

I get out my notepad to write it down.

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 34):

He takes out his phone.  You jot down information.

Dad studies it and nods. "I can have some people track this.  May take them some time.  What do you think about this lead with the motel room?"

"Should we make it our business? Will we get winged for vigilante activity?" I ask Dad.

"Okay, thanks. Now I'll need your full legal name. If this info is good, I'll recommend that you not be charged and I'll testify that you assisted if they decide to go ahead anyway," I tell the guy.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Wed 03 Jan.

He shuts his lips tightly, pursing them like a duck.  He turns his head slightly, looking away, while scratching the back of his head.  "Harold.  Harold Dongle.  Okay?  That's my real name."

Dad cocks an eyebrow at your question about legality.  "You do remember your Mom and I are considered FBI special agents, right?"

"Of course. That's why I'm asking you. Is this the kind of thing you're allowed to do legally?"

I write down Harold Dongle's name.

Harry Dongle.

It's a good thing I am very practiced at self-control and icy calm, or I would giggle a lot.

I tap the dude to send him back into regular time.

"Next up, Gadget Girl."

Gadget Woman...thank you very much...gives a start.

She looks around, then at you and Dad, and snaps her compact shut.

"Guess my cover's been blown then.  I'm reaching for my badge."

She reaches into her coat and pulls out a badge.

Agent Loretta Swalworth

Office of Justice

Meta Crimes Division

Dad groans.  "Not you bastards again..."

Agent Swalworth snorts.  "We're always on the job."  She turns to you.  "You are interfering with a delicate operation.  Can you kindly return me to where I was?"

"Huh."

I am slightly surprised by this development.

"Yeah. Do you know where the bombs are? Or the conspirators? We caught one guy and a bunch of the bombs."

I get out my notepad to check the list of names and numbers while I wait for an answer. Just in case.

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 40):

She glares at you and Dad, then adjusts the glasses on the tip of her nose.

"Well why don't you tell me what you found.  And I'll tell you if you got them all."

I diligently read off the names with flat affect, then I list out the locations of the bombs we found.

I occasionally glance at Dad to see his reaction to this woman. She might not be legit, like the guard wasn't.

Dad is giving her the hairy eyeball.  He's clearly not happy she's here, though he doesn't seem to be tensing up to punch her.

But who knows?  The night is still young.

She whips out her cell phone and starts tapping on it, taking down notes of everything you've said.

"Excellent!  We'll take it from here."

She glances towards the security guard.  "I'll take him into custody as well."

And boop, back into normal time she goes.

"She seems extremely suspicious to me," I say to Dad, now that we're Sideways and she's not. I wish it was a still a pause button on life...but I guess it never was. I was just ignorant.

"The sort of thing a clever conspiracy would plant, just in case a telepath or a superspeed kid or whatever was around to thwart their plans. Is there any way we can verify her identity?"

Dad sighs.  Heavily.

"Well.  She could be.  But I'm afraid all MCD agents act like that.  So if she is a plant, she's done her homework.

"I can call some people and verify her ID.  But I gotta do that in real time.  And it will take time.  Specially since most of 'em will be at home or out with their family.

"Though I am wondering what MCD is doing here.  And why.  If they knew there were bombs..."

He shrugs.

"Then again.  MCD does dumb stuff sometimes."

I then proceed over to Pibbnoculars. At the kendo tournament, there was a guy like this, spying from a car. I open his car door and tap him on the shoulder.

"My name is Seraphina Martel. There is an active bomb threat and you are spying on the proceedings, which is very suspicious. Can you explain yourself?"

Pibbnocular.  I may have to steal that one from you.

He is raising the last bite of his chili dog to his mouth as you tap him.  He blinks, listens tow what you say with a calm face, and pops the last of the chili dog into his mouth.

Holding up a finger as if to ask you to give him a moment, he washes it down with the last of his Mr. Pibb.

He then turns to you, and screams.

It's like being next to a jet engine.  There's an actual physical force to it.  You are pushed back against the door of the car.  But only for a moment.  It buckles and shoots outwards, sending you flying out of the car.

You being you, you land on your feet.  Your ears are ringing.  And you feel a little wobbly.  Your eardrums must have gotten blitzed.  But otherwise, you are upright and ready for whatever action you wish to take.

He's jumping out of the driver's side door of the car.

I'm glad you like it. =D

I skid to a stop by digging my fingers into the pavement, making gouges in the concrete. I've been waiting for the chance to kick some ass. I knew someone who voluntarily drank Mr. Pibb had to be up to no good.

I crouch and sweep out my leg, catching a planter box and kicking it so hard it comes free of the ground and flies at the car, putting a solid object between myself and Pibbnoculars for a moment. Even without cheating by pausing time, I'm significantly faster than reaction speed robots. Fast enough, in fact, that I'm not thinking about what I do. It is all training, instinct, and intuition.

Since this guy can project force with his voice, I want to stay on the ground. If I jump up, I won't have leverage to stand still in the blast. I dash forward, with the planter box sailing in front of me, aiming a low tackle right at his midsection. If it connects, it'll drive the wind right out of him.

Hey now!  I drink Mr. Pibb!  And Fresca!

A sound strategy.  Only one issue.  He fires again.

The planter explodes in a spray of cheaply made ceramics and poorly maintained shrubbery.

The guy is running around the back of the car, seeming to try to get it out of the way from his line of fire at you.

And you're up to no good! =p

I passed my second IRS enrolled agent exam Wednesday. Just one more...

I get tired of exams. I've taken so many. So far none of them have make a career or even a decent-paying job.

"Hey Dad! Help me throw stuff at him!"

I enthusiastically start chucking heavy, dense things in screamy boy's direction, advancing under cover of the barrage. He'll run out of stamina soon enough; I've yet to meet someone who can outlast me. Then again, that might be because I beat them down before they get a chance to. If adding Dad's output to the mix doesn't help, then I'll need a new strategy.

Screamy sure does have some stamina.  ALso some moves.  He manages to twist aside from anything he doesn't scream out of mid air.

Dad watches a bit, then jumps, landing beside Screamy and swats off his head.

Just swings a fist and the guy's head goes flying across the parking lot.

You can see it bounce about forty feet away.

I stand up and dust myself off, patting my skirt.

"Nice shot!"

Dad killing a guy isn't entirely new to me. I've never seen him do it in person, but he's a law enforcement officer, and I know he's done it before. Mom too. And I'm pretty sure I'll kill people, too. I'm trying not to think about it and failing.

"And no calling me Little Anvil."

I go to stand over the body and evaluate the carnage.

"Now that I know that this place is sort of a transitional state for the dead, let's see if a ghost comes out or something."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 52):

Dad cocks an eyebrow.  "Uhmm...princess..."

He hoists the torso up by it's collar and tips it, giving you a view down the neck hole.

No guts.  You recall now that there wasn't any blood.

Inside are wires, diodes, all the things that mark Screamy as ultratech.

Dad shrugs.  "I've seen enough androids to know what to look for.  But this is just a stand in."

"A stand in for a particular person, like a simulacrum? Do you think someone was 'piloting' it?"

I don't know much about ultratech. They couldn't fit in advanced technical education with everything else.

"Why did it want to finish its hot dog and drink? That seems strange for an android."

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 54):

Dad shrugs.  "I don't know much more about the high tech stuff than you do.  As far as the food...could be part of it's disguise.  It'd look more...uh..."natural" I guess...if someone saw it eating and drinking."

"It could be how it powers itself."  Mom waltzes into Limbo, glancing at the headless automaton, joining the conversation as if she had been there all along.  "There are a few builders out there who mimic organic systems.  Hot dog powered androids have less fuel issues than ones powered by some kind of battery set up.

"I got tired of waiting.  Yeah, yeah.  I know it hasn't even been a second out there.  But I just felt like I was missing something fun.

"What did you find?"

"A spy android, a guy dressed as a security guard staking the place out who gave a list of names and numbers, and someone claiming to be a federal law enforcement agent who just demanded that we had out everything. Can you verify that lady is legit?"

I lead Mom over to where the woman is frozen in time again.

"Well it's not like there's an ap for identifying federal agents you know Seraphina."

"We could probably call Doleman."  Dad turns his head at your inquisitive stare.  "Doleman is a field agent with the FeeBees.  We've done some work for him before so he owes us a favor or so."

"Well yes.  We can.  But it's what time of night in DC?  I doubt we'll get him until the morning.

"As for the android...well.  That seems to have been taken care of, hasn't it?  This security guard...were any of those names interesting?"

Dad gives her a look that seems to have some kind of meaning, but then shrugs.  "No name on it stood out to me at least."

"Hmmm," Mother hmms, "You know who you should ask Seraphina?  Someone with the Dragons.  I beat they can find out for you rather quickly."

"There isn't? That's ridiculous."

Of course, the government is massively corrupt and incompetent, so I should have expected that.

"Why are you exchanging that look?"

It's another fucking test, I bet. I'm really sick of this. I need to make myself empress of everything so that people stop passive-aggressively testing me all the time. Ugh.

Resisting the impulse to roll my eyes, I continue, "That's a good idea. I'll go ask."

And so I do, to find Paula. I have as much time as I need, and my parents will disappear back into real time if they get bored waiting - or they might even help, what a shock - so I'll take however long it takes. I've spent whole weeks in here before. It's substantially creepier now, and I resent losing my private space, but it is what it is.

I'm pretty sure her name was Paula. The president of the Dragons.

Dad flinches a bit at your question about the look.  He shake his head.  "It's something 'tween me and your Mom.  Don't worry about it."

He seems a bit moody of a sudden.

It takes a while (subjective time) to track down Paula.  She's frozen in the midst of a laugh.  Whatever's making her laugh must have been really funny, as her head is cocked back and her mouth is open wide, showing all her teeth.  Oddly, it is not a good look for her.

The people around her seem surprised.

I go back to Mom and Dad, inform them that Paula is in a strange situation, and that I'm going to go back into regular time for a few seconds to see what's going on, before I bring her Sideways.

I really don't want to call it Limbo.

Then I return to where Paula is, so I can pop back into normal time - the living world I guess - for a few seconds, as noted, and see what she's guffawing about and everyone is surprised about.

You hear her stammer through her laughter, "It's so...ha!..cute that...ha ha ha!..They think that..."

She catches you out of the side of her eye, and waves you over.  "Oh my!  Sorry Seraphina.  Do you know everyone here?  Sorry.  Please forgive me.  Just heard something funny. Gimme one sec..."

One of the young ladies standing there glances at you nervously and gives you a small nod of the head.  She introduces herself and starts naming everyone present.

Some seem to recognize you.  Others either don't or don't care.  Paula finally settles down.

"Oh.  Again.  Sorry about that.  You caught me being un-ladylike.  Anyway.  Are your parents here?  I thought I saw them, but just haven't had a chance to introduce myself.  Are they enjoying the event?  Did someone take care of this whole bomb fiasco?"

She mutters that last question, glancing around.

Everyone seems oddly unconcerned about the bomb thing.

I do my best to be bright, cheerful, and charming. I'm pretty good at it, mostly from practice, even though my natural state is a very cold fish. "I forgive you. As far as I know, I've already taken care of the bombs. I'm looking into who planted them. I need to borrow you for a second."

I tap Paula unless she dodges, to bring her into Limbo. Assuming the transfer is successful, I hold out my notepad with the list of names, places, IDs, and so forth collected from Officer Sussy Baka.

"These are the names and stuff I've got. My parents suggested I check in with the Dragons to see if they recognized any, and you're the president. Any of these ring a bell?"

In reply to Seraphina Martel (msg # 62):

"Agent Swalworth, huh?" Paula seems to recognize that name right off the bat.

"Her I can at least vouch for.  As much as any one of the Feds can be vouched for...

"Let's see..."

She shakes her head after looking over the list.  "No one here stands out.  But.  The Sleepy Inn.  I hate to admit I know that place.  But."

Paula hands you back your intel.  "The Sleepy Inn is owned by one of our alum.  Ex-alum I should say.  She was drummed out of the Dragons for going above and beyond.  Inisha Sengupta.  But you may know her by her handle.  Rakshasa."

You know of Rakshasa, yes.  She's a sort of a stage magician with delusions of grandeur. Think of Mysterio from Spider Man comics

You think Mother and Dad have tangled with her before in an official capacity.

"Okay. Thank you." I give Paula a smile.

"Do you want to come with me to finish this up?" I ask, instead of just brigading her like I would most people.

If she does, I take her back to my parents, and if she doesn't, I take back the info. Either way, I'm going to tell my parents what Paula told me, that Inisha Sengupta, Rakshasa, owns the hotel that the goons were going to meet up at after the fireworks.

Paula shrugs.  "Sure.  I can.  No problem."

Mother and Dad both sigh when you give them the news.

"Well there goes my buzz."  Mother frowns as she says that.

Dad rubs the bridge of his nose.  He does that when he's highly annoyed.

"I thought she was still in prison."

"Oh come on.  How often do they just stay in prison?"

"It would be nice is someone had told us..."

"You don't think she's really here for some kind of revenge, do you?"

Dad glances your way. "Well.  I can't imagine she would try something like this just cos."

"I'm supposed to be on vacation."

"Well.  I guess it's over.  Princess...you go back to your room.  Raksasha is probably out of your league."

"Two weeks ago, I would have argued, but not today."

I hand over my notes to Dad.

"Are you two going to take care of her?"

Mom can always step Sideways and come get me if she needs help. I doubt she will.

Mother laughs.  "We'll be fine."

Dad glances at her then back at you, giving you a grin.  "Don't worry about it.  But.  I want you to go on back to your room.  Wait there.  Alright?"

"All right."

I sigh.

"Thanks, Paula. Do you want to go back to where you were?"

"Please.  Nice to meet the two of you," Paula says to Mother and Dad before you whisk her off.

Mother and Dad are gone by the time you get back.  Mother must have moved them.

They must have stopped by and told the cops about the bombs, because it seems the SWAT teams are standing down.  And the bomb squad is looking a little disappointed.

That Federal Agent lady is in the crowd of cops, waiving her ID and demanding to speak to whoever is in chare.

You head back to your room....

stopping by any particular place first?  What do you do if you do go back please.  I need some idea of what her regular pre-bed routine is

Thanks

I want to check on Saul and Ahina before I go back to my room. Just in case some shenanigans occurred.

I also need to text that telepath kid who said he'd show me how to fight off telepathic intrusion. Time to get some lessons.

Assuming nothing interesting happens, before bed, I first practice attempting to time travel, by "following the flow" as my mother directed and I was starting to discover. I give it about a subjective hour, then I shower, brush and floss, put on my nightgown, play a game for a little bit, and finally lay down for sleep.

Do you remember the telepathic kid's name from the flag game? I could look, but I am lazy. =3 =p

Ahina is partying with the Dragons.  She seems to be in good spirits.

Saul is helping the cops.  "I'll deal with this.  Talk to you in the morning and let you know if they find out anything of interest."

You go about your self training after sending off your text to the telepathy kid who will now be known as Byron.  Because Byron sounds like a good telepath's name, don't it?.  He isn't a good teen since he doesn't fire a response back.  Some people just don't the etiquette of this kind of thing, do they?

You get ready for bed, snicking off a good length of floss and really going at that gum line.  You're halfway through when you suddenly feel very sleepy.  Like it's hard to keep your eyes open kind of sleepy.

By the time it occurs to you that someone actually mickey'd your dental floss, you're already falling over.

When you blink into wakefulness, you're strapped to a table.  The restraints must have cost a fortune because you can't break them.

After a few minutes a woman with light brown skin and the darkest, must luxurious hair you've ever seen pokes her head into your field of vision.

"You look just like your mother," she says after a moment of observing you.

"I like your hair," I reply, dryly.

I just look around, not having much else to do.

She chuckles.  Dryly.

"Well. You're just as arrogant as your mother, that's for sure.

"How many times does this make it for you to be held hostage?  You must be a pro at it by now."

A klaxon softly sounds.  A red light flashes on some wall mounted device.

She frowns.  "They must already have gotten here.  Funny how motivated they are. But I guess you are their baby girl.

"Well.  Off I go to kill your folks.  You want me to turn the TV on for you before I head out?"

"Once."

Uuuuuuuuuuugh.

"I would really hate it if you gave me a diamond file and told me I had to have immaculate nails or else. I have a deep-seated fear of manicures."

She laughs before leaving the room.  Without giving you the diamond nail file.

You seem to have been left on your own.

That's when Ghostie steps out from behind a computer bank and looks around.

"It actually surprises me you've only been captured once.  I'd figure with your parents, you would be like the world record holder for being the kid on the milk carton."

"Lots of people have tried. This is the first time anybody has used restraints that actually keep me from breaking out," I answer the ghost, though to muggles, I probably seem to be talking to myself. Just in case there's a camera on me, I keep up the pretense.

Staring at the ceiling and remaining deadpan, "She even put the lock release just out of my reach. Oh woe is me. If only there was someone who utterly depended on my continued life for their own existence who was conveniently available to unlatch these restraints. Oh if ooooonly."

"Yeah yeah.  Keep your panties twisted.  Gimme a mo."

The restraints unclasp.  You can feel circulation making it's way back into your ankles and your fists.

"So what now?"

"Thanks."

I get up and stretch, aerobically preparing myself for exertion I probably won't have to make.

"Now I look around for anything related to this scheme, where I am, and how I can break stuff."

And so I do.

You are in a small room that screams back room of an underground bunker


Map!



There's an opening in the eastern wall.  Through it is a large room with a glass floor.  Under the glass floor is what looks like layers of old pipes and tubes.

A row of villain looking machinery makes a short hallway down the large room.  At the end of it, a massive pipe organ covers one wall.  Piles of broken cogs and machinery are heaped up on the other side.

To the south, a short hallway runs into a thick, vault type door.  Etched on the doorway is a single musical note.  An eighth note without a staff.

There is an open archway to the north.  Through it, a hallway tiled in odd and weird looking tiles runs to the east.

Neat map! Thanks for making it. I passed my final accounting exam and now just need to wait for the government to send me my license. Have I mentioned that?

 "Did you see her use any of this stuff?" I ask Kevin the ghost.

I try to break off some of the material used to hold my wrists, to see if it's more pliable when not attached or "active" or whatever.

I also inspect the room for any computers or terminals for potential monolgue material. Villains love to ham like that.

Thanks and congrats! Welcome to the wonderful world of finance.

The straps are still tough.  They seem to be some kind of plastic and it's tough to get a solid grip on them.

There's nothing monologue-able that stands out.

The machines have no obviously discernable purpose.  They almost look sort of steam-punkish.  The metal looks brass like.  There aren't any obvious computer screens like you're used to.  One of the machines has a factory whistle stuck on one side of it.

Thank you. I hope they pay me better.

This villain might actually be serious. Well, seriously insane and potentially evil. Or seriously evil and potentially insane? I'm not sure, but, if this was Rakshasa, she was definitely, actually a bad person.

I step Sideways so that my explorations don't waste precious time. I doubt my parents need help, but maybe they do. I've been pretty self-assured for a long time now, thinking I was hot shit and invincible. The world is teaching me how wrong I was. Next step is to look around for a bag or other container, if possible, to put that unbreakable material in.

After that little search, I step back into regular time and-

Regular time.

It's going to have music puzzles isn't it.

Dammit. I should have paid attention in music class.

At a loss for what to do, I check the strange hallway, and if nothing reveals itself, I try opening the vault door. If that doesn't work either, even with my strength, I start poking keys on the organ to see if anything happens.

The strange hallway to what you guess is north is tiled with the most nauseating patterned tiles you've seen.  Each one is grooved in a different but somewhat similar pattern.  It doesn't help that Raksasha has inlaid the grooves of each tile with ultraviolet light tubes.  It feels like you're walking on a schizophrenic's dance floor.

The hall turns back to the west.  It seems to turn south just up ahead.  Hopefully this isn't a labyrinth.

And it's then that you walk into the wall.  You just walk right into it. Why you did that...you aren't really sure.


Map!

Let's try the music note door first, then, and fiddle with the organ if that doesn't open immediately. I really dislike all this mind woojie stuff. If nothing happens, I suppose I'll have to do the ol' left hand on the wall thing. Without looking at the floor.

I like the optimism.  But first...

You turn around to head back down the hall...

...and walk into the wall again.

Left.  Right.  Backwards.  Forwards.  Up.  Down.

Which direction would you like to step towards?

Oh for fuck's sake.

I pinch the bridge of my nose in irritation and breathe deeply a few times, collecting myself.

Then I go left. Over and over and over again.

As long as there are no disconnected parts of the maze, going left repeatedly will eventually get me out, no matter how Rakshasa designed it. Of course there's probably some bullshit involved.

The first left manages to turn you around so you are facing the other wall.

The second left takes you a step further down the hall.

The third left, and you have to stop yourself from walking into the same wall you did last time again.

The fourth left seems to turn you around so you are facing the other wall.

In looking at it:

The first time you turned left, it basically got you facing the opposite of the way you were.  You took a step in that direction.

The second left actually went left.  Good job you.

The third left seems to have made you run into the wall again.

The fourth left seemed to do the same thing the first left did.

So either every time you turn left, you will actually travel backwards, left, into the wall.

Or no matter which way you turn, you will actually travel backwards, left, and into a wall.

Then I need to figure it out. Test other things.

I get out my notepad and start diligently scribing my findings. First I try turning right, until a pattern presents itself. Then going forward, then going backwards. If I can learn the rules, I can know what to do to get out.

The pattern doesn't seem to matter what direction you take.

The first time you step in a direction, you end up facing the opposite way.  So if you take a step forward to the right, you end up standing in the same space you were trying to leave, except you are now facing the opposite direction.

The second time you take a step forward in the same direction...wham.  You walk into a wall.  Literally.

Stepping backwards seems to get you better results.  You can move the direction you want until the third step, when you're suddenly back to where you started.

After what feels like hours, you try...one step forward, and two steps back...and bingo. You manage to head in the direction you wanted.  For two backwards steps at least.

You have to use that first step to "aim" yourself, so you are facing away from the direction you want to go.  And then take two backward steps towards that goal.  Then you have to start the process all over again.

Wait.  Where were you heading again?

Back to the organ?  Or down the hall to see where it goes?

I'm going back to the organ first. I don't think I've "figured out" that stupid hallway. I have all the time I want, so it may as well take me a quarter second to navigate that "maze" even if it feels like hours and hours. But I really don't like it.

So I'd rather try to figure out the organ and the music note door thing first. If I can.

I need to figure out a way to beat someone up and steal their powers so I can stop this psychic nonsense. I already have a headache.

The organ is on and pressing a key gets you a musical note.  You work through Chopsticks, but it doesn't cause anything to happen.

There's a spot above the keyboard.  It's a small ledge where sheet music is supposed to go.  But no sheet music.

You're guessing you need to find the sheet music and, once you play out the tune, the door to the south will open up.

At least that's how things work in Point and Click games.

I rub the bridge of my nose in further irritation. I start searching through the piles of machinery and "stuff" to see if there's any sheet music. I really don't want to solve the hallway puzzle.

Also I try to kick down the door, just in case.

Rooting through the piles of junk nets you zero sheet music.  Actually there doesn't seem to be any paper of any kind.

Kicking the door turns out to be even worse for the headache you're working on.  Not only does the door not budge, it rings.  It sets off this loud, piercing ringing sound from the kick which is at the perfect frequency and volume to make your eardrums wish they could hide further inside your sinus passages.

It's like Raksasha designed all this to case the maximum amount of irritation.

I am sure she did.

I sit on the ground and keep my knees close to my chest and hands over my ears until the ringing stops.

Then I have one last thing to try before actually "solving" that stupid fucking maze. I the pitch of the door's gong sound might be the key on the organ that opens the door, so I'll try to pick it out and play it for a few seconds.

It probably won't work, though.

At least I can work through the maze if I have to, Sideways.

That would make sense, wouldn't it.  But...

You find the pitch fairly easily.  E above middle C.

It doesn't open the door.

Somewhere, you are sure Raksasha is sniggering.

If you want to take a crack at solving the maze, go ahead.  If it's too frustrating, we can say Sera does it.  Cos that is the kind of gal she is.

Thanks

I am willing to take a look at the maze and try to figure out the steps to exit based on the rules you gave earlier in the thread. If I get too stumped, or if you haven't actually made the puzzle yet, I'm fine with Sera solving it, too. She has as much time as she needs and is definitely some level of obsessive.

See below.

It's not about the number of steps you take.  It's about the pattern of the steps you take.  You just need to give me the modus operandi Sera will take to move down the hallway.  And of course, narrate how she feels about having to do all that.

I just love when Sera gets testy



Map!

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

I let out a sigh that shakes the room. Literally. I put extra oomph in it to really let the building understand my displeasure with its shenanigans. I am going to do really mean things to Rakshasa when I catch her. Like dislocate all of her major joints and hoist her from a flagpole by her underwear.

I just let myself completely relax for a minute, to gather my thoughts.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.

I sit down and close my eyes, meditating like my mother taught me, though admittedly more relaxed than it's supposed to be.

Okay fine. I fish around for a metronome and set it, then step Sideways to make sure my powers are still working. I want to take a nap. Assuming I'm in Sideways normally and time isn't passing, I go ahead and take that nap. If my powers aren't working, or after the nap, I go back to the hallway of stupid crap.

Step forward. Now I'm looking the opposite way. Step backwards twice. Step forward once to face the way I want to go. Step forward again, facing the way I want to go that time, then face away from where I want to go. Then step back twice. Forward the wrong way. Forward the right way. Backward twice.

Over and over and over again until I'm through.

By the time you take the last step and come to the end of the spiral, it's likely that the irritation boiling behind your eyeballs can be compared to the heat of the Vesuvius eruption that took out Pompeii.

Or maybe not.  Maybe you're just fine with it all.

In any event, at the end of the spiral is music stand.  On it is a piece of sheet music.

Seems you have what you need to play on the pipe organ.

It's apparently the theme to My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas.  You end up having to play it three times on the organ before that damn door swings open.

Now that song is stuck in your head...

New Map!


And beyond the musical door is a new rom.  It looks like another puzzle chamber.  Great.

The walls and ceiling and floor are made of glass.  The high density kind you walk on without worrying about it.  Under the glass are lots and lots and lots and lots of clockwork gears.  They are set up in elaborate arrays that seem to be accomplishing nothing.

No. Wait. They are accomplishing something.  All the clanking and tapping and whirring are creating a distinct rhthymic and muscial pattern.  It's like you're inside a giant music box that's all wound up.  And the music box is playing My Humps.

Over and over and over and over again.

There's another vault style door leading further on. Of course it's locked.  Too durable to pound through it?  You know it!

There are three cogs on the doorway with gaps between them.  Apparently if there were smaller cogs stuck between them, then the array would turn.

Oh yeah.  Those piles of cogs in the last room.  Now you get it.

Of course there are thousands of cogs in those piles.

There are clues.  Each of the cogs on the door are labled with numbers.  From left to right they are numbered

18

14

12

And all the cogs in the piles are numbered as well.  From 1 to 500.

So you seem to have to find the two cogs that fit the sequence you guess?

I am going to beat Rakshasa with an orange in a sock. For at least three hours. Then put Legos in all of her shoes.

Also break all of her fingers and remove her teeth with an electric drill. I punch the wall until I feel better. While every other wall on Earth has a tendency to be severely damaged when I hit it, I have a feeling these walls won't budge. At least this next puzzle seems easy. I hope it's as easy as it looks. I swear, when I get out of here, I am going to give Rakshasa the world's most powerful atomic wedge. They'll feel the mushroom cloud of justice in China.

I feel confident that 16 goes between 18 and 14 and 13 goes between 14 and 12.

Nothing happens.

Does the song have clues?

Ass. Shit. Motherfucker cunt bitch.

I should be able to narrow down which gears go in the empty spots by their teeth-space-differential. There are probably a lot of candidates anyway. Good thing I have as much time as I want.

Having no other ideas, I'll start by trying to slot gears between 12 and 14, starting from gear 1 and going up. The first two gears should turn together when I get the right one.

Unless it's more magic bullshit.

Ree.

It's not magic.  It's just that the Raksasha focused on reaaaaaaaaallly pissing Sera off with these.

Just wait until you see the last one.

But in the meantime...

7

It's the 7 cog that seems to fit between 12 and 14.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 06:21, Sat 06 Apr.

I'm curious what everything is made out of! I bet you're having fun torturing poor Sera with things she has to be clever or subtle about. Gosh, you big meanie. =p

Well...

7 is half of 14, so the gear between 18 and 14 is probably 9. It could also be 6. I'll try 9 first.

Nine doesn't fit.

Let me know if you want to give in.

Hint:  One of the numbers on the three cogs may not be a whole number.

Remember that Raksasha is a superb specimen of asshat.

The only thing I can think of to do is to list out all of the cogs and do a numerical sieve on them. Do you want to list them all? When you say "not a whole number," do you mean that a cog is numbered with a fraction, rather than all the ordinals from 1 to 500?

You start the process.  The slow, tedious process.  The slow, annoyingly tedious process.  Of the sieve.

You're gonna hate this solution.  But remember: it's Raksasha doing this.  Not me.

And during all that, you notice something odd about the 14 cog.  There's a small scratch between the numbers.  Down near their bases.

Well.  Maybe not a scratch.  Maybe more like...a tiny little cross...or...

1₊4

I know! I don't have the puzzle and it's not irritating me, but Sera sure hates it.

I still don't know what to do with it. The addition would make 9 _ 5 7 3, and I also don't see a pattern to that.

Is there a similar marking on the other numbers?
This message was last edited by the player at 23:31, Thu 11 Apr.

No other markings you can tell.

so the 14, which is really

1₊4

is in between the 12 and the 18, right?

The 7 cog fits between the

1₊4

and the 12, right?

So if the "14" is really "1+4" and you add a 7 to it, you get...

I put the 5 between the 18 and the 14, since 14-(1+8)=5 and 12-(1+4)=7.

Legos will plague Rakshasa for the rest of her days.

Last test.  Bwah ha ha ha...



The door opens into another room.  This one looks super annoying.

The walls, floor, and ceiling are all tiled in blacks and dark blues.  There are no other obvious exits.

In the middle of the room, on a stand, is a larger than usual parrot.  It squawks and flexes its wings as you enter.  But otherwise doesn't move from it's perch.

Under it is a small plaque with the following:

This is Polly.

Polly knows how to get out of here.  But she'll only tell you if you can ask the right question.

It has to be eight words.  Exactly.

There's a penalty for each time the question is wrong.

Good luck

I count on my fingers. I also anticipate, with relish, the number of times I am going to hit Rakshasa in the stomach.

Polly
how
do
I
get
out
of
here

That's eight words. But then it might be wrong, since I might not be able to get out by myself, and Rakshasa is an asshole.

What
are
the
eight
words
I
need
to
ask

That's nine words. Uuuuh.

What
are
the
eight
words
of
the
question

That's eight.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

How
does
someone
get
out
of
this
room

That's eight too. Seems like there's an obvious smartass answer to it though.

How
can
I
get
out
of
this
building?

Let's start with:

"Hello, Polly." I wait a few seconds just so I'm obviously not asking a question.

"I have a question for you:

How can I get out of this building?"

The bird draws it's wings back and caws a moment.

Then it says, in a very parrot-y sounding voice,

Polly wants you dead

From somewhere along one of the walls, a projectile whistles through the air and hits your arm before you have time to notice it was fired.

Did we decide Sera has a degree of invulnerability?

If so, it just bounces off her though it's an annoying little jarring sensation.  Like when you stub your toe lightly.

If not, she will get knocked onto her knees and gets a big ol' nasty gash.

I will let you decide which degree of injury Sera is taking here

Well, originally, she was tougher than most people but more importantly almost impossible to hit, by being able to reflexively stop time, and when she did take damage, she could heal herself (but not other people) with a few seconds' concentration.

But now that her power is completely different, I don't know.

How dramatic do you want the stakes to be?

I am going to let you decide that.

I think some drama would give it a bit of hot sauce. But that's me.  Your call.

I'm good either way really.  Cos mostly, this is just designed to rattle Sera a bit.

I don't know. It's a tough decision to make. I tried for so long to have a really top-tier character, and seeing her downgraded repeatedly feels like betraying what I worked for for years and years of searching and trying. But at the same time, it's clearly what you want, for her to be physically vulnerable, and your enjoyment is just as important as mine, not least because, if you're not enjoying it, there's no play. So, I'm not sure. If you really are fine either way, then I will assume she has invulnerability, but that having to heal herself every time will get old fast. She's already about to break all of Rakshasa's fingers and do other Rubicon-crossing sorts of things.

I bite my lip and suck in air as I get shot. Fuck, that hurts. My blouse is torn and a bruise starts to form immediately. I hold my hand over the injury site and reverse entropy to heal myself. I've never been able to do it with anyone else. I...it's not really that, is it? I don't even know how my powers work anymore. Just that they do. It makes me very uneasy.

I should have been able to dodge that. Are my powers going away? Was I ever able to actually just dodge things? I always felt like I could...

I take a few seconds until the sting goes away and then ask another question, enunciating clearly and counting in my head.

"What
are
the
eight
words
of
the
question?"

Oh I never said you needed to downgrade her.  I'm still assuming she's...what?  Not quite Superman level but close to it?

It just wasn't something I thought about until we got to that moment.  How invulnerable she is.

Either way really is good for me.  Looking forward to the Rubicon

No annoying little pellet/bullet thingys come hurtling your way.  Instead, Polly answers you:

Does
Everyone
Know
My
Breath
Smells
Like
Feet?

There's a pause.  Then Polly's eyes flare briefly.  It then intones

Yes Seraphina.

We all know your breath smell like feet.

You may pass

A section of the ceiling suddenly clicks open, revealing it was a hatch.  A ladder slowly descends.

From above, you can hear the whumping of large chunks of metal being thrown and explosions.

Mother and Dad must be busy.

Ascending?

I had assumed that supers more in general lower-powered than in most comic settings. It doesn't matter to me, really, only that Seraphina be in the top echelon, whatever that is. If that's Supergirl level, then it is. If less powerful than that, that's okay too. In the past, you've written that various superpowered teenagers could casually throw vehicles hundreds of yards each, so we can assume she's at Supergirl level unless you want to change that.

I resist the desire to smash the stupid bird. It's just an annoyance. It's all meant to annoy and delay me. At least the place all being underground explained why I couldn't just batter down the walls.

I start up the ladder, going as fast as I can without breaking the steps. When I get my hands on Rakshasa, I am going to make her wish she had never...never...something! Ugh! She's insufferable!

You come up out of the hole the ladder ascends and into what looks like a warehouse.

There's all kinds of wreckage around the place.  Banks of machinery have other banks of machinery tossed through them.  A small crane is tied up like  a pretzel.  What was once a tank is now two piles of scrap metal.

Dad's been busy.

You come around one hunk of metal and can see the battlefield proper.

Dad is beating a large robot into bits.  Mother must be in gray scale because some of the Raksasha's are blowing up.

"Some".

There must be about fifty Raksashas  rushing about the floor.  They are all cackling and firing odd looking ray guns.  As one of them blows up, you realize they are androids.

"Almost..." all the Raksashas say in one voice as another one of them blows up.

I step Sideways to catch Mom so I can get a briefing from her.

"The real one said she was going to come up to kill you, but it looks like these are all robots. Anybody else show up yet? She left me in some kind of puzzle dungeon, like from a video game."

I turn a rocket around mid-air and point it at a Rakshasa-bot, to fly off that way in real time.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Mon 29 Apr.

Mother sighs, wiping engine oil off her hands.

"I swear Seraphina.  How did you get captured?  Your father nearly coughed up his pancreas when we found out.  Were you not listening when we went through all those kidnapping drills?

"Anyway.  I'm glad to see you've got all your parts.  Raksasha isn't someone who messes about.  We didn't call for back up.  Just charged right in.  Your father again.

"That's the thing about Raksasha.  She might not even be here at all.  She'll do that.  Toss a bunch of androids at us and head out for her next secret lair.  She's really a pain.

"Why did she have you in some kind of video game dungeon?  Did she say? I mean other than to be a bitch."

"Drugged dental floss. She used some kind of material for the restraints that I couldn't just break. It would have made more sense if I was suspended off the ground without leverage. I think she was showing off that she has the ability, either directly or with goons, to sneak in anywhere, poison things, and get out without being noticed, and that she had material strong enough that Dad and I can't just smack it down. Make everyone paranoid and such. Also, to be a bitch."

I shrug, both palms up. Whadd're'ya gonna do?

"Security at St. George's is really awful. Barely exists. I bet they came up with this Monitor business to avoid paying staff. Thanks for coming to get me."

I don't grab her in a hug. She isn't a huggy person. That's Dad. I'm expecting a tackle any moment.

He's busy with the robot.  Also, you're still in sideways time.

You have the luxury of counting the Raksashas in the room.  There's 41 of them still up and running.

Mother points at the closest one and walks over to it, about to sabotage it.  "These are a pain in the neck.  She's bobby trapped them in such a way that even in this space, you get a jolt or a ding.  It's never the same thing.  I'll take care of them.

"Can you see if you can locate the real one?  I can't imagine she's here in the room still.  But..."  Mother shrugs and drives a screwdriver into the android's shoulder socket.  "...you can never tell."

I am going to assume some the shenanigans I have in mind are okay here and try to keep them tamer. The story I mentioned in the off-lines thread is called The Fall of Doc Future, and I identify with one of the two principle characters extremely strongly. I also like the "this is what superpowers might really mean" angle to the story. I realize that it's blatant fanfic wish fulfillment type stuff; the point, though, is dealing with the unexpected from you, because it's fun to play with you. I've become very jaded about roleplaying over the past couple of years, which I haven't talked about because, unlike everyone else, you've been steady and reliable. I didn't want to poison the "relationship" so to speak.

"I can try. Any idea where to start?"

Since we're Sideways, we have plenty of time. I'm not sure what I should be looking for, so I'll start by examining some of the robots. How lifelike are they? I wonder if they're good enough to feel like humans when touched. Best try with a stick first.

If that doesn't reveal anything, then I have a plan:

My next move is electric shock. Staying Sideways, I take a jaunt to the nearest town, smash down a door in the police station, leave a note explaining that evil robots and a superpowered madwoman have kidnapped me and are trying to kill my parents, sorry about the door and the stuff. I take as many stun guns and tazers as I can find, plus extra cartridges for the latter. I leave a note telling them to contact Seymour Horowitz, along with his phone number. He's one of my primary bankers, and he'll arrange payment for lost equipment and repairs.

I've done this kind of thing before. A lot, actually. Just not since going to St. George's. I've been told I need to respect boundaries more. Oh well.

Armed with things that produce a bunch of volts at the contact, I shoot tazers at each robot or active stunguns, then leave the devices suspended in normal time to make sure I shock all of them. Then I can re-enter regular time and see if that does anything.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:23, Mon 06 May.

Are you kidding me?  That is all comedy gold!  I love it!  Feel free to go nuts.

And thank you.  I do try to be reliable.  Can't always guarantee it.  But I appreciate the compliment.

The androids are high end, you know that much.  Their hands and faces feel pretty real and have quite a bit of detail.  But the areas under clothing are more slipshod and lacking.  They are made to resemble Raksasha with her clothes on only.

There seems to be some kind of hullabaloo at the police station.  You're sideways.  So you can't quite tell what's going on of course. But the cops inside all seem agitated.

Oh well.  It's not like it's anything that will have an impact on you or your friends, right?

You get back and zap your first android.  Dad's still going mano a mano with the robot.  Mother destroyed a few more.

After zapping the first one, you step back into time to see how well it works.

The android stares back at you and swings, though it's rather sluggish.  You side step and hit it again.

It takes about three "hits" to dispatch one it seems.

"Hit" here being a charge from a taser.  You can probably tear one apart with your bare hands as well.  Though that may take you a few minutes per android.

Shocking them all?  Or tearing them up?

The sorts of things I'm thinking don't seem particularly funny to me, but okay. Have you ever read it? The novel I mean. It's obviously somebody's vanity project, a long-winded argument that the Flash is the coolest superhero, but it's still exceptionally well-done for world-building and consistency. Also, the smart characters act like intelligent people, instead of just pulling magic inventions out of their butt.

It's physics stuff, most of what I'm thinking. The less direct aspects, the more social-oriented ones, rely on the character being extremely difficult to do anything about if she cuts loose and people being scared of her. Those things don't really seem to be in your wheelhouse. I like the idea of going over the top and having the deal with the consequences, but they could get real heavy, real quick.

E.g., the sheer application of strength is not the most powerful way I can think of to use Seraphina's abilities. Arbitrary acceleration means she can get as close to light speed as she wants, and that means outputting a truly ridiculous amount of force. Like "megaton punch" is not a stylistic name at that point, it is a literal description.

Well I'll have to take their clothes off then. See if any of them are the real Rakshasa. And if not, well. I just have to zip around at ultra speeds, from the reference from of the rest of existence, until I find something useful to track the bitch down. Then hoist her from a flagpole by her underwear.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:25, Tue 07 May.

Trust me.  I can much, much darker than this.  What's been going on is rather light hearted for me.

I do not mind if you want to steer the tone of things going forward.  Now that I've got a world built, I can let you act in it as you think Sera would do so.  So go nuts.

We can see where it takes things.

You and Mother disrobe a lot of androids.  And I mean a lot of androids.  You end up with about 74 of them.

No real Raksasha.

There's nothing else in the complex.  At least that you've seen.  Either Raksasha has a hidden room or she's controlling things from a distance.

Both of which would be annoying, so therefore, likely.

I don't want to ruin your fun or butt heads, though. Your presence and, dare I say, friendship, mean a lot to me. A darker tone isn't necessary. I just didn't know what you meant was comedy gold or why what I was saying was comedy gold. Like, I don't want to make declarative statements that are too hard to deal with or cause you problems or end the game.

"Have you figured out where she's hiding?"

Sometimes I suspect Mother does not actually have the ability to stay Sideways however long she wants, like I can. She has never said so explicitly, but conditions seem to imply it. I am given to wonder, occasionally, if she has far less control or ability than I give her credit for. If she really could do what I can, Rakshasa should already be duct taped in a police station.

Eh, fuck it.

"I don't know a lot about her, not enough to track her, but I think we both know that if I get serious about this, she cannot hide from me. She tortured me and tried to kill my parents. I am very upset."

My extremely flat affect is even more neutral than usual, a carefully modulated cold fury.

"Why have we not torn her lair apart yet?"

Ah.  Now I get it.  Sorry.  I was just using the comedy gold line to mean I was enjoying what Sera was doing.  Nothing more.

Feel free to proceed along those lines.  If it becomes an issue, I will raise my hand.  But I do not foresee it being one.

Mother frowns.  She stares at you as if you just questioned why she was wearing those shoes with that blouse.

And no one ever asks Mother about her choices in shoes.  No one.

"Because, Seraphina, I was busy trying to take care of these androids first.  And I was trying to find you.  Remember, I don't have super strength. I can't rip up so much concrete flooring to find someone.  And your father has been busy with those robot things.

"I hate to break it to you dear Child O' Mine.  But your safety does come before smacking an annoying bitch around.

"That okay with you?"

Oh oh, oh, okay, I get it. I will keep trying to be amusing, then!

Some of the things that have happened contradict what I would like to happen, so I might insert some things that seem abrupt. Hopefully that isn't bad.

I keep looking right at her. The normal human affectations of halting speech don't come to me. I have been trained to think carefully before speaking.

"That makes sense. Yes, that is okay with me. Thank you for caring about me, Mother."

I bow to her, politely.

"You had me study general relativity when I was eight. I have wondered, for a long time, why you never used it. Why you never told me to use it or asked me or made exercises for it. I hadn't considered that you can't, so it didn't occur to you to bring it up."

I pick up a rock, about half a kilo, and I idly rub it as I think. After several more subject seconds, I add:

"Do you have any clues as to where she might be, or am I on my own to find them?"

Mother says nothing.  She then turns, flinging a hand in the air negligently.

"I wouldn't know.  I didn't study relativity after all.

"But Raksasha either has a control room in a building nearby or she's got a hidden room, probably under this complex next to an escape tunnel.  That tends to be her MO."

Here we go. ABRUPT MOOD SWING TIME.

I speak distantly, feeling somewhat disconnected from my body. Things that did not make sense in my raising, in the years of constant, unending learning and practicing, are starting to piece together.

Could she really not know?

"I will have to test it all. You know I am stronger than Father. We are lucky that ghosts do not have bodies."

I've slipped back into the abstract way of referring to my parents.

"One half ehm vee squared. You've already shown me that time travel into the past is possible, even just a little bit, with this power I inherited from you. That means that I can apply force."

I toss the rock towards a crowd of robots that are not near either of my parents, and it freezes as it leaves my hand. I push it from behind with my index finger, applying some of the superstrength I inherited from Father.

"Over and over again."

I do that a few more times, being careful. All in the same direction: towards the robots and slightly down. It's not an aerodynamic object and doesn't have to be. It will vaporize into plasma about a ten thousandth of a second after I re-enter static time. Without the super-toughness Father's genetics imparted, just touching that rock, even Sideways, would cause nasty burns. That vaporization will be a feature, transferring the kinetic energy into the robots and then into the ground at a shallow angle. Huge amounts of dirt will be kicked up but the only things obliterated will be the robots.

"This will be very dangerous. You should be at least 300 feet away before going back to normal time. Will you watch it with me?"

Based on my experience, the rock-that-will-soon-be-plasma will be poking along at a mere 20,000 miles per hour and will hit the group of robots with a thousand times more energy than a lightning strike. A hundred times more than a cruise missile. If a few tazer shots was enough to destroy one, this will atomize all of them in a handful of microseconds, slices of time that, until now, I thought only Mother and I had ever appreciated. Now I think, perhaps, she never appreciated them either.

Then the energy will go into the ground and throw up several tons of dirt. It will whine and scream through the air, leaving behind a bright trail for the fifty feet or so it will travel. People will hear the detonation from miles away. In that moment, I do not care.

Something is very wrong with me. I have never wanted to actually kill someone before. In the traps and mazes, it was merely play. Right? It had to be. Everyone had roles. Heroes and villains, games to amuse and delight, to give a narrative to the strange world we live in, where people who can throw airplanes by hand have conversations with regular humans, and the humans aren't absolutely terrified.

I go to Father and take his hand. "Father," I say, "I think you can probably take it, but please don't stand there. The robots are about to explode with half a kiloton of force. The atmosphere won't propagate the blast, but it will still be hazardous." I tug at his wrist, gently, to get him to walk with me to a safe distance. If he resists the pull, I just let him go.

I let Rakshasa's stupid bird trap shoot me. I didn't have to. It's all a game. I have never been so angry before. I have never hated like this before.

I walk the prescribed distance away and stop, then I turn around.

Quietly, "Rakshasa threatened to kill my family. Tell me why I shouldn't destroy her. Shouldn't rip her apart and use her head as a warning. Please. I can feel myself going somewhere I do not think I should be." If we weren't Sideways, Mother wouldn't hear me from that distance, but my voice carries across the windless, timeless plane rendered in shades of grey.

I don't wait for an answer before re-entering normal time to watch the fireworks.  To the rest of the world, it will look like I've just teleported and fired a blast of energy more potent than anything short of a tactical nuclear weapon, so fast that it may as well have taken no time at all. The air will be uncomfortably hot around the impact site for a few minutes. Some of the dirt will smolder.

I shouldn't be contemplating the most painful ways to execute a person and feeling nothing about it. I feel cold.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:09, Today.