Jack nods in understanding about the Alzheimer’s. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he mentions and wonders if there isn’t some solution to Alzheimer’s out there.

The analysis is something he’d stand by so he just smiles slightly and continues to listen. “I suppose I can see your point about sink or swim, but my opinion is that you should expose trainees to good practices. As in, show them how you take the time to know what you’re walking into, instead of just showing up all willy-nilly and relying on your toughness to keep you alive when things go wrong,” he reflects after taking a moment to think about how he would coach someone to do things.

Rather than really expressing outright joy, even if he’s happy to hear that he might actually get to start patrolling, Jack takes a moment to think about the particulars.

“Who would I be patrolling with?” he asks. “Someone fast, I hope?”

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 773):

HT chuckles at your remark about good practices.  "I do. Usually.  But you aren't exactly the typical recruit, are ya?"

He taps his chin with his forefinger as he considers your last question.  Finally he says, "Me.  Some.  But I think it'd be best to pair you with a few different folks.  Everyone has their own styles.  You need to develop yours."

He sits back in his chair.  "For now...Are you gonna get in trouble for staying out late on a school night?  I think I'll take you an' Darja on a little night cruise.  Sound alright?"

---

Darja isn't in class.  Colby comes up to your desk right before the bell rings.

"So here's the dealio.  Saturday night.  I just need help with a catering job.  Setting up some tables.  Chairs.  Laying out fifty seven pizzas and drinks.  Maybe two hours worth of work.  At most.  Can you make it?"

Jack glances at HT when he talks about typical recruits, but doesn’t really respond beyond a brief nod in agreement. That seems accurate.

“Sounds good, I’m assuming I’m still on track to meet up and start training with Omen as well?” he questions, since Gut Shot had not followed up on that yet, curious if there was movement on that plan.

The question about staying out late earns a shake of the head.

“I can stay out, and yeah, that’s fine with me, as long as you can keep up with us,” he says with a grin.

---

Checking his phone when he notices that Darja isn’t around, he blinks slowly and then throws a long look around the school. Just to check on her if she’s around.

“I mean, I can do it either way, though if you can get us alone in the room for a few minutes I can do the tables and chairs quickly,” he quietly mentions to Colby, he’s prepared to help either way, but as with the heavy stuff from the storage locker. A little alone time would speed up the process considerably.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 775):

HT gives you the finger for your last comment but chuckles.

He takes another sip of tea.  "Yeah...Omen.  You'll find out, but...problem with Omen is he's not on our schedule.  We're sorta on his.  He..."

HT thinks for a moment and then sighs.  "Don't say nothin' to Gutshot about this.  But it's probably easier if you know.  Omen doesn't exist in the same timeline we do.  He sorta wanders in and out of it.  He knows he has to meet you.  Just more a matter of when he can."

---

Colby chuckles.  "That's fine.  Less work for me.  I'll pick you up at four that afternoon.  We should be done no later than five...five thirty."

No Darja anywhere around.

Lydia texts you.  You wanna grab a burger after school?  My folks are out and I gotta find food.

Jack smiles at the finger.

“Can you clarify that, or should I wait to talk to Omen himself?” Jack asks. His gut had told him to just wait, but HT is in a talkative mood and perhaps he can learn more just by asking.

---

Jack makes a mental note so that he doesn’t let anything overlap. “Sounds good, man.”

Glancing down at his phone when the text comes in, he thinks about it for a second and then sends off a brief: Sure! You know, I really don’t need a car, but you’re making me reconsider for your sake.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 777):

HT sighs.  "You think I understand that crap?  I just know he comes and goes when he's able.  Don't worry.  I would guess you'll meet him soon."

---

Lydia is waiting at the corner of the school parking lot as you both agreed. She doesn't have a car either.  But the parking lot exit is closer to the direction you want to go.

She's chattering away.  Mostly about things that happened to her friends.  ONe of the stories is actually pretty funny.

As the two of you wait for the crossing signal at an intersection, she looks at you.  "Oh!  You have Mrs. Whitefalls for English, don't you?  Didja hear the rumor about her getting fired?"

You have not.

"I heard a few people talking about it. Somebody says she's been accused of...uh..."

Lydia goes bright, bright red.  She edges a little closer to you.  ">..uh...inappropriate relationships with students."

As they walk, Jack listens to her, allowing the casual conversation to have a life of its own without trying to steer the conversation toward any particular topic. He’ll want to eventually bring up Ron, but for now he’s content to just walk with her and listen to her stories.

Hearing about Mrs. Whitefalls, he shakes his head and hearing the explanation, he looks a bit puzzled.

“She’s an angry woman with issues, but I didn’t get that vibe from her,” he mentions as they walk, his hand taking hers when she starts to blush, lifting it so that he can give her knuckles a kiss. “Not that she’s necessarily into boys with muscles, but usually I can sort of tell if someone is attracted, right? I didn’t get any of that from her. I knew something was up, but not that level.”

As they walk, he alternatively reaches out and puts his arm around her. The late-fall weather is starting to get cold for people who aren’t him, and he’d rather she not suffer for their walk.

“Weird,” he finally concludes. Maybe there was more to it.  “Do you know who they’re saying it was? The guy. Or I suppose it could be a girl, huh? I shouldn't be so hetero-normative.”

A pause.

"Then again, she didn't seem to like Allison Ericks either, and Allison is the second prettiest girl at Edison, after you--and, coincidentally, I think Allison is gay. So, not really vibing with her past activity."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:41, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 779):

When you said 'she just got married' did you mean Whitefalls?  Whitefalls wasn't the one who got married.  It was Hollister.

Lydia shakes her head.  "No idea what the sit really is.  There's a lotta talk.  You know how it goes.  Everyone says they were walking along and happened to see so and so duing such and such.  But there's just a lot of talk about her.

"Allison Ericks?  I don't know if I know her."  She gives you a stern look.  "You're not looking at other girls are you?"

She pinches your side.  "Do you even feel when I do that?  Anyway. I heard from the shop and my dress is all altered.  I'm gonna go pick it up tomorrow."

She stops and turns, standing before you while holding your hand.  "I can't wait until we can dance.  Can you dance?  I can't. So bear with. Oh. I-"

Sirens start going off.  Two fire trucks start barelling down the road going the other way.  It's only a couple seconds later another set of trucks come speeding after them.  You can hear more coming down other avenues.  Must be a barn burner.

A quick scan shows an apartment building two miles away.  Looks like it's going up pretty quick.  Lots of people trapped inside too.

Fixed, removed it.

“Yes, I’d asked after getting footage of her argument with Mrs. Hollister the other day, I know that argument was at least tangentially about Dan,” Jack mentions as they walk, his arm reaching around to cup her other side a little, only to get ‘pinched’ on the side. He glances down at the action and then, knowing what it means, sort of smirks.

The boy does not clarify what she looks like just shakes his head and acts like he has been caught doing something. A hand raising in the air to ward her off.

The question earns her a little shrug. “I feel it, it’s just you aren’t really causing any stress to the nerves, so no pain? I can still feel things, everything is just brought down to ‘acceptable’ levels for me. A handful of lava? Probably feels ‘very warm’ but I’d know that it’s still hot? I’m guessing, here, of course, I’ve never actually picked up lava, but I expect I could,” he mentions amiably and leans down to kiss her on the top of the head affectionately.

Watching as the firetrucks go wheeling past in the other direction, he catches the faint smells of fire in the distance, then turning his head where they’re headed, he shakes his head.

Pulling out his cellphone, he sends off a quick text to HT and Gutshot: Fire on Hennepin ave., people trapped.

Even as he is sending the text and waiting for a response, he looks down at Lydia. “Fire, people trapped,” he tells her. “I’m checking to see if I should go or if someone else is going,” he explains.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 781):

"Oh," she oh's in a small quiet voice.  She looks after the trucks while you wait.

It only takes a minute.

Gutshot responds.  Sending someone.  Do not engage.  Thanks for heads up though

Lydia watches you.  "You don't get like a secret communicator or something?  You gotta do everything by cell phone?"  She frowns a little.  "Things really aren't like on TV are they?"

She gestures.  "If you gotta go, I get it.  People in a fire is a lot more important than a burger."  She frowns again and snuggles a bit closer.  "You won't get hurt will you?  I mean.  Lava warm and all that."

As you look down at her, you can hear voices.  Sounds like the crowd of onlookers.  You make out one voice.  It's a familiar one.

"Awww.  And me without my marshmallows."

Roger.  That was definitely Roger.

Looking back up to Lydia he smiles and hooks her with his arm again as he resumes walking. He'd like to engage and help save people, but they are sending someone.

"No secret communicator yet, no. And I don't need to go, they're sending someone else," he confirms with a grin.

As to the question about being safe, he shakes his head and keeps walking with her.

"No, I mean, maybe if I flew into center of the sun or something? I don't really know, definitely not regular fire though," he answers. He knows that for sure. Easy enough to test that sort of thing, out of curiosity.

Jack sends one more text as soon as he hears Roger: Roger is there, I recognize his voice.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 783):

Gutshot signals back.  Thanks for heads up

The burger shop is fairly tasty.  The fries are damn good.  The company is of course the highlight.  Some mustard gets on her chin and she licks it off, then realizes how that must have looked.  She turns redder than the ketchup.

Moving us on

---

The news the next morning has a story about the fire.  Hemi showed up and helped rescue trapped residents.  No injuries due to the meta intervention.

Darja isn't at school.  She's not responding to texts either.

Whitefalls is in a particularly foul mood.  A lot of the class are gossiping about her, not being too circumspect about it.  She's obviously not happy about it.  You can actually hear her grinding her teeth.

Colby asks you about Darja during last period.  "You heard from Darja?  She seemed the perfect attendance type."

HT texts you.  Night cruise tonight.  Meet on school roof 8 PM

---

Darja is on the roof at 7:50.  She waves at you, looking a little sheepish.

"Vabandust kummituse pärast.  Didn't mean to not respond.  Had..."  She smiles halfheartedly.  "Family issues came up."

She reaches up and starts to tie her hair into a pony tail.

"How's things going?  Oh."

She finishes securing her hair with a scrunchie then reaches into a pocket of her jeans.  She takes out something and hands it over.

It's some kind of punch card. Hammond's Putt Puttateria.  The bestest in putt putt ever!

From the punches, it's a free game for two.

"I'm not going to use it.  Thought you and Lydia could go for a date."

Jack was glad to hear that Hemi’s intervention had been sufficient, his gut told him that if Gutshot and HT said they had something in hand, it was in hand, and he was pleasantly affirmed in that belief now. He was further certain that he would have probably poked a bear by playing around without insurance or oversight at this point, so it was probably for the best that he continued to play by the rules.

During the day, his ears stay perked for news about Whitefalls coming from teachers, paying attention mostly to the teacher’s lounge and administrative offices while trying to tune out the students having similar conversations.

“I’d have heard if she had some sort of big problem, I think,” he answers Colby and gives a positive pat on the shoulder. “You should ask her out when you see her.”

He could only keep trying to push them together for so long.

---

Jack responds in Estonian: “I hope everything has been resolved? Everyone okay?” he asks, rather than dwelling on her ghosting, he just asks after her family. He hadn’t been too broken up over it.

Taking the card, he looks at it and nods a little at the offer.

“You know, or you could take Colby. He’s nice, eh?” he suggests, pushing it back toward her. “We could make it a double date?”

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 785):

She sighs.  "Colby.  I...I need to put those kind of thoughts on hold for the time being.  Maybe this summer."  She seems to think about it.  "Though I guess I do need a date for this dance coming up.  What exactly is homecoming?"

A door at the far end of the roof opens and HT steps out of it, pulling some gloves onto his hands.

"Lady and Gentleman.  Welcome to your first patrol."

He grins at both of you.  "I have some good news."

He pulls two laminated cards out of his back pocket.  He hands each of you one.

The card has your name on it.  At the top right is what looks like a figure eight made of blue and green circles.  The top circle has a line pointing to the right, maybe suggesting the figure is some kind of stylized G.

Guardian Insurance.  Who We Are. is stamped under the weird 8 G thing.

Under your name is the words Provisional Policy 04 7285 091616 74

Master Policy 04 7002 041698 99

Limit $40,000,000

"Congrats.  You have provisional policies.  Here are the rules.

"The policy is only in force as long as you are monitored by someone insured on the master policy.  That's anyone on Guardstar.  I have a rider on their policy so that includes me too.  Lucky. Lucky.  You.

"Rule Two.  Those limits may seem like a lot.  They aren't.  You two are strong enough to do a lot more than that amount of damage in the blink of an eye.  My own policy is for a billion."

He rubs the side of his nose, glancing down at the rooftop.  "I...sorta took out part of O'Hare airport once.  Long story.  In any event..."

He claps his hands together.  "Don't start throwing cars or airplanes around.  Unless absolutely necessary.  If they've already been banged up, that's fine though.  Here's your first lesson about meta insurance..."

He holds up a pointer finger, aiming at the sky.  "Any property already damaged by another meta is fair game.  If Bullet Head throws a life sized model of a Great White shark made of white gold at you, you can pick it right back up and throw it at him!  No judge will hold that against you.  Well.  Except in California.  Don't ever do any kind of heroing in California.  Damn jerks.  Hope they fall into the Pacific.

"Questions thus far?"

“It’s a dance that is usually intended to celebrate the first home football game of the year, but it’s so popular in its own right that I expect that even if football had to be cancelled because the stadium was blown up and the bus full of footballers with it – they’d still have the dance,” Jack answers, giving her the deets on the social construct.

Part way through, he switches to Estonian as he hears HT coming up the stairs for two reasons. One, because it gives Hard Time a hard time, and two, because he enjoys practicing the language with her. He’d like to get to the point that he can mimic her accent.

Taking a single step forward, he looks at the card.

Listening to the explanation he nods slowly, and seems to have digested everything. Except the bit about California, that had never come up in his research so far. He’d need to spends a few minutes finding articles about California and its apparent super laws.

Then again, if he needed to save people in Cali in the future, he’d just do it.

“Do we need to keep the cards on us and how durable are they? I ask because I can’t really test without risking damaging it, and I feel like if I get hit by a nuke or something the card is probably going up in flames,” he points out.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 787):

HT blinks at you.

"Don't worry. If you get hit by a nuke, no one's gonna wanna take that card from you anyway.  Just memorize the policy number.  You're both smart enough for that."

Darja giggles but pushes her card into her back pocket.

"So?  What's on the agenda coach?"

HT grins broadly.  "Tonight should be pretty hum drum.  Course last time I said that, I got into a fight with Man Eatter and Pale Image.  So whadda I know?

"Speaking of Man Eatter, tonight is escort detail.  Mannie's IQ is in her...his...whatever...roots.  The roots on the one I bustulated are currently on ice at the Minneapolis PD.  We are going to pick them up.  Take them to the airport.  And then stay with them on the plan to Cleveland.  And then we come back home.  Here."

He hands you both earpieces.

"I know you two can hear ants fart.  I can't.  Use these.

"Alright.  You two will follow in the air.  You dog me to the airport.  We all get on the plane.  And then I'll probably have Jackie Boy here gimme a lift home.  No offense Darja.  Just figured you wouldn't want me hangin' on your backside.."

She waves a hand.  "Jah. Olgem lihtsalt sõbrad."

"That probably means "You're one sexy guy Hard Time," right?"

"If it ends this really creepy conversation, then sure. That's what it means."

He guffaws and slaps her on the back.  "You're okay kid.  You guys ready to go?"

I need to prep something. So feel free to respond or not respond.  We will start your first official mission Thursday.  Danka

Jack double-checks its stored away in his memory, which is to say, almost a certainty anyway, but with that double checked, he nods.

Hearing the plan, he thinks about things and suggests, “Masks?”  even as he puts the earpiece into his ear and taps on it once to make sure that it’s working.  Since revealing their identity to anyone watching the hand-off seems sort of counter-productive, and by its nature, this job might require them to come face to face with enemy forces.

When he hears Darja’s rebuttal to the flying suggestion, he grins and acts like she said something scandalous or teasing. “Ma ei tea, kas tema naine teab.“

"If you want to get some climbing gear it might be more comfortable than me hanging onto you the whole way,“ he suggests with a smile.  “If you want to have someone bring you something in Cleveland? A climbing harness or a parachute harness, maybe.”

Sounds good!
This message was last edited by the player at 03:12, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 789):

Darja barks a laugh and punches you playfully on the side.

HT rolls his eyes at the harness idea.  "Those things acutally chafe like the dickens.  I've ridden on Hemi's back for a day before.  And he eats a lotta burritos.  Trust me that I'll be fine.  You can carry me one handed.

"And did someone mention masks?  Ta Dah!"

He pulls out two masks from a back pocket.  They're both the style of el luchadores/Mexican Wrestling masks.  One is purple with thunderbolts and the other is red with stars.

HT grins.  "Go ahead.  Pick one. Don't fight amongst yourselves now."

---

HT seems to travel Hulk leap style.  You and Darja float along.  He stops on the roof of a five story building across from the Police HQ.

"Alright.  I'll go in alone.  You guys keep an eye on the area.  If you see anything suspicious, gimme a ringie ding."

He leaps off the building, landing in the Police parking lot.

Darja crosses her arms and glances at you.  "Is it just me or does it seem weird that watching a guy jump from a five story building and across a four lane street feels mundane?"

Jack takes the red luchadore mask and uses his fingernail to flick through the stitching along the sides, neatly removing the stars and decorative work around the eyes. It sort of ruins the integrity of the mask a little in the long-term, but it doesn’t look quite so ridiculous now. Even as he is using his fingernail like a razor blade, he watches HT.

“Your skin can chafe? It wasn’t about you being fine, just thought it’d be more pleasant than being carried by a wrist, but that’s up to you,” he answers. He does NOT even humor the idea of letting HT ride on his back like a pony.

---

Wearing the mask now as they fly over toward the police department, the earbud tucked into his ear, he nods his head when he is told to let him know if there’s an issue and actually takes a breath to speak. Testing the transmission quality of the earbud.

“You can hear us, HT? Check, check, 1-2, 1-2,” he asks after the man has leapt down toward the police department.

Looking over at Darja, he smirks and answers, “My mundane meter has been skewed since I was knee high. Weird parents, and then my own powers sort of starting to show,” he answers. “But yes, it is weird. We’re weird. It’s better to own it, I suppose.”

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 791):
Moving Darja's text to Lavender.  Too similar to yours as is

She giggles and moves to the edge of the roof.

You can 'see' HT enter the police department.  He gets a lot of looks due to his style of entrance.  He just grins at the cops and asks to speak to Detective Haverty.

While he goes through the thrill of paperwork to get the remains released, Darja is studying the people below.  "I'm not hearing anyone below signaling anyone.  Nothing that sounds like a code either."

You also don't hear anything strange.

She glances back at you.  "Have you been paying attention to all this stuff about Mrs. Whitefall and Dan Cabrizzi?"

Jack is taking the time to check for signs of people loitering in the area, just because they weren’t using their mouth to communicate didn’t mean they weren’t communicating. Texting would be just as viable if someone were planning something. Never mind all of the high tech methods they might use, or anti-meta materials.

“I haven’t seen or heard anything either,” he agrees, checking people over rapidly and then changing tactics by starting to look for quickly-posted mini-cameras that might be attached to nearby buildings. That’d be another method to keep a watch for HT.

Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he glances back at her and shrugs.

“I have been trying to catch wind of the full story, but apparently you have more of a knack for listening in on people than I do. Is the story that it’s Dan now?” he asks, wondering if HT is listening to them talk about this over the ear pieces. He hadn’t made an effort to turn it off. “What have you heard?” he asks, conversational.

Never once letting their casual talk about school and gossip distract him from the task he has been given. His eyes drilling through vehicles. Looking even at the officers inside the building, in case someone might be paid off. Not that they’d try anything personally with HT there.

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 793):

The two of you zero in on a car that seems to be slowing down as it drives by the police station.  But listening in, it seems to be a couple arguing about whether to bail their adult son out of jail.  Again.

Darja watches the car turn the corner to go around to the front of the station and shakes her head.  'Not much.  There's all kinds of rumors.  Most sounds like jama.  But all the rumors make it sound like Whitefalls was seen in a backseat of her car with Cabrizzi...you know."

She glances at you.  "There's some talk about Lydia too.  Apparently you have a fan club.  They aren't happy you're dating."  She watches a couple of men walking down your side of the street.  They seem to check out okay.

"I'll keep an eye on it for you.  It's something a woman can probably deal with easier."

Jack continues to monitor the area as he chats, his hands sliding into the pockets of his hoodie, while his hood comes up to hide the fact that he’s wearing a red luchadore mask.

“If she was found doing ‘that’, how is she still teaching?” he questions and stares off into space for a moment, recalling the conversations he’d overheard Dan having. The guy has stuff happening around him, and he’d had that encounter with Ronald. Short of an interrogation however, he isn’t sure what he can do about it.

He is keeping his eyes open, after all.

The comment about Lydia-talk earns a raised eyebrow and he listens with a pensive look. “Thanks,” he confirms, happy to have Darja as a friend. “I’ll let her know she can look to you. So, have you decided on your cape name yet?”

In reply to Jack Sharpe (msg # 795):

Darja shrugs when you ask your question about Whitefalls.  "Like I said, it's probably all jama.  If everyone who says they saw it saw it, Dan and Whitefalls were trying to get it on in front of a crowd of three hundred."

She smiles when you say thanks.  "See on vähim, mida ma teha saan".  It's the least I can do.

The two of you watch some police cruisers roll out of the station.  Inside, HT is following a couple of detectives into a room you can't 'see' into.

"Lydia is a sweetie. She really likes you too. So don't screw up."


Darja sighs when you ask about the cape name.  She looks up at the sky for a moment, then gets back to business.  "Haven't really considered.  I'm...I guess I'm still not sold on the whole war-on-the-forces-of-evil thing.  And they'd probably frown if I went by seksikas metsaline, though it really does fit-"

The two of you swivel your heads upwards.  There's a short, sharp, high pitched buzzing kind of sound that lasts a couple of minutes.  It sounds like it's coming from somewhere to the northwest.  A few miles away.  You don't 'see' anything unusual.  And the sound disappears as suddenly as it started.

Darja frowns, looking at you.  "I've never heard a plane engine sound like that.  You got any ideas?"

Jack confirms what she’d said with a nod, he felt the same way. Gossip is gossip at this point. The real thing to find out, is to find out who had actually seen it happen, if anything had happened.

“Keep an eye on Dan either way. He was trying to pressure Ronald into doing something the other day, and short of bothering Ron directly, I’m not sure what I can do,” he mentions to Darja, since two sets of super-senses on the problem are better than one.

He smiles at her compliment of his sweetheart.

“Did you just call yourself a sexy beast or does it mean something else idiomatically in Estonian?” he asks, not quite laughing.

Thinking about the noise, he suggests, “I’ll rotate that direction, you stay here, just in case,” and darts up into the air and comes back down on a rooftop in that direction. He then resumes conversation even as he pans his gaze in every direction.

He doesn’t recognize the sound from his memory, as he takes the time to compare it with similar sounds that come to mind, nothing quite clicking as identical.

“It might have been an attempted distraction,” he finally decides, speaking at conversational volume like he had been when he’d been standing next to Darja directly. “HT, we had a sharp high pitched noise going for a few minutes, a few miles to the northwest. We are staying in the area, but it was odd enough that we both noticed. Everything going good in there?”