"Yes, only eight people -- you need big, gallon Gatorade to save a hundred!  But you are ahead of me.  I can only beat up or heal one person at a time.  Even with a twelve pack of Monster."     She considered briefly.  "Well, I mean, I could throw a buffet table at a bunch of goons, or something." 

"Figure not being in Death Fucking Valley would have also helped," Melissa groused.

"Besides superpowers aren't everything.  Figure there's a reason all God's children got guns and figure these folks're strapped," Melissa suggested then lowered her tone in a highly inaccurate imitation of Samuel L. Jackson.  "Just remember, the AK-47.  When you absolutely, positively gotta kill every mother-fucker in the room... accept no substitutes!"

"Well," she added, her voice returning to normal.  "Unless they have, like, phaser rifles or some shit up in this bitch or something."

"I want a lightsaber. A purple one, like Sam Jackson. Or, if they can do lavender, even better. You gotta accessorize," she nodded with mock-enthusiasm.

[Private to GM: Training that would have been used against you, in another life.  If you knew, you wouldn't offer aid so freely  ]

For a split second it almost looks like he was going to reach out a hand or get up and move to take up Nora on her offer, but his smile falters for just that split second before swiftly returning.

"Don't worry about it, though I appreciate the offer.  Really, it looks worse than it is.  Nothing a shower and a clean bandage won't solve.  I've had worse and not all of this blood is mine."

He isn't drenched in it of course, but there are a few other blood splotches where there isn't a tear in his prison duds.

As they talk a bit more he does chuckle a bit, taking in what is said about Mel's activity during the jail break.  When he speaks, he looks legitimately curious.

"Phaser Rifles?  Lightsaber?  I guess that's some form of Laser sword?  Must have missed more than I thought while just getting by the last few years."

Though why an actor would need something of that high grade weaponry is beyond him.

"They don't have movies or TV where you come from?"  Melissa asked in a somewhat disbelieving tone.  "Were you like, Amish or something?"

"And you let Nora do her thing," Melissa suggested.  "Figure we're all noobs here so they'll probably stick us all together on a team or something.  Best start getting used to each other now, y'know?"

"Well, if you saved us, then you're definitely underselling your role in getting us out of there," Vic says to Melissa. "More importantly, thank you."

When the conversation turns towards weapons, Vic grimaces a bit. He does have to grin at the mention of lightsabers and phasers.

"Honestly," he admits, "I'm not a big fan of guns. Can't deny that I'd like a phaser. Something to stun someone without hurting or killing them." He glances at his fist as if contemplating something for a moment.

"Anyone know if they have testing rooms or training facilities here?" he asks. "It would be nice to try testing something out."

"I didn't save you," Melissa told him.  "You got saved by Havok's bunch just like we did."

"There was a point during our rescue where the guards started shooting at us.  I put up a not-great ice barrier and then passed the fuck out 'cause I did that shit in fucking Death Valley," she continued.  "That was the sum total of my contribution to the rescue, making some ice and passing out."

"They have a bigass helicarrier like in the Marvel movies, so probably, yeah," she informed.  "But I'm mostly interested in a room with a bed in it.  I am fucking tired after today."

She understood James' reluctance in accepting power-driven healing from a stranger, and didn't push.  In reverse, she might have decided the same;  though it did not diminish the validity of Mel's point.   Likely this new group of recruits would be cast as a team.  Or at least a training unit.

She was likewise surprised at his not grasping the Star Wars reference.  She wasn't exactly a fan, but she'd of course seen the movies, knew enough to make the quip.  Surely he was not Amish -- they didn't practice the sorts of drills he'd described.   Had he -- his family -- been part of some military like sect or cult?   She had heard of things like that.

"I've wondered about training rooms and facilities too.  There must be something. It would make no sense not to have them.".

Like Mel, she found herself looking forward to quality sleep, in a real bed. But wasn't quite ready, just yet.  Curiosity was like caffeine.

"You can make more than just your feet windy, and fly, I am sure." she prompted Vic.  "What else do you think you might be able to do?  Winds to ruin someone's aim?  Something stronger -- like a gale, or whirlwind?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Sun 27 Sept 2020.

"Well, I don't really know how or why I fly," Vic admits to Nora. "It's kind of like I can get the air to swirl around me and push me forward. If I can use that to fly, maybe I can use it to push things---like a vacuum on reverse or a generate a shockwave. I never really used it for more than just flying because, well..." He trails off before giving a sheepish smile and a shrug.

"I never thought of it before. It's fun to just fly."

She nodded, understanding very well. "So it is. I know by experience.  We will race*, sometime," she winked.   Then looked between Vic and Mel.

"So, you both command an element. That have something in common - like oxygen molecules. I wonder if the way you do it has anything in common? Maybe something Mel knows could help you to expand your repertoire."


*And just for the record, it would make sense to me that Vic is quite probably the faster of us. ;)
This message was last edited by the player at 01:13, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

"Name a time and place, and I'll be there," Vic replies with a grin.

He scratches his chin when Nora mentions Mel possibly manipulating the elements the same way as he does.

"Maybe? I wonder if there's a way to test it. What am I saying, there probably is something with all this crazy tech on the aircraft carrier."

OOC:

Lol, I've got no ego to bruise with my superhero powers. I just want to beat bad guys and save the day. :-p

"Honestly, I'm not totally sure how my stuff really works," Melissa put in.  "Maybe I use water, but maybe I do that 'cause it's the most common easily freezable stuff around.  I mean, you have to remember that I learned how to do my super-stuff so I could learn how to not do my super-stuff.  You know, so if I gave somebody the cold shoulder I didn't actually freeze their fucking shoulder."


"For Vend here, doesn't, you know, air, have, like a shitload of other stuff in it aside from oxygen?" Melissa asked.  "Like, fuck, I dunno, 90% Nitrogen or something?  I mean, if he can do his stuff with air, he could probably do his stuff with any gas.  And... now the fart jokes will start in 3... 2..."

James was quiet for just a little bit, chuckling and listening.  Mostly he was just trying to figure out on the fly how to deal with this.  Just because he was decent at not being detected did not mean he was good at making up these lies on the fly.  He had already at least insinuated his parents were Doomsday preppers, so how to keep that going.  The answer was in the question.

"Parents were pretty draconian in that aspect.  They were pretty much convinced the end of the world was going to come at any time and they wanted me to be ready.  My dad especially.  Mom never told me what happened, but he passed when I was ten.  Pretty much had to step up to the plate so outside of school, training and doing what the compound needed me to do to help everyone survive, there wasn't much room for entertainment.  We were not sure how the others would react when they found out I had powers.  Mom and I made a run for it, unfortunately we got in to the wrong area of Tulsa.  A small Sons of Freedom patrol spotted me, I couldn't really control my abilities very well.  Mom pushed me out of the way, that was six years or so ago.  Since, I've just been doing what I could to survive.  Didn't have much in the realm of entertainment funds."

This is all said with a smile and he shrugs a little.  The best lies have elements of truth to them after all.  He shakes his head a little and while Amy pushed it but Nora doesn't, he doesn't bring it up.  Hoping that the healing option would just be let to fade as the direction of the conversation changes to other powers and subjects.

"Something to keep in mind.  Whether you wanted to or not, you stepped in to a war.  Wanting to play the good guy, listen to them cry uncle.  Only want to stun and not kill.  That works great in comic books and movies but this is reality.  You need to be able to pull the trigger.  Exploring our abilities will be good, but it doesn't hurt to just keep it simple, too."

"Oh ho, a challenge accepted, I think, once we are all settled in here," she nodded to Vic.

"Yet if you can control any gas, as Mel suggests, then I'm thankful you're not adolescent. That would be too tempting for most twelve year olds." 

Nora then considered what James further revealed and said.  Her own experience amounted to going at it with others who were using their powers for fairly petty and wanton kinds of crime.   In that sense, it had been sort of like comic books.  War. It was right, plain there in the organization's name.  And yet, amidst her growing determination and fervor to go out and make some meaningful difference, she had not stopped to think about this in that context.  And she grew consequently quiet and pensive, as she began to.

Vic laughs and shakes his head when Mel goes for the lowest of hanging fruit. "Whoever starts them is going to live in a perpetual dutch oven until they stop," he replies with a sly grin.

"Seriously, though, I don't know exactly how much control I have beyond getting the air around me to propel me," he says to Nora. "But I don't think I'd do, uh...that even if I could."

When James mentions war and killing, Vic grows quiet. He frowns at the thought of killing, or being at war. However, he keeps his thoughts on the subject to himself for the time being.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:58, Sun 04 Oct 2020.

"Sure," Melissa said, nodding at what James had said.  "But it's different kind of war.  Figure it's as much a PR campaign, winning acceptance, as it will be about beating the enemy.  Unless we're gonna kill every non-powered person in the world, we need to get to a place where we can co-exist with them."

"Yeah," Vic offers as he agrees with Melissa. "I'm not a soldier, I'm a student. I get queasy seeing clips of MMA fights, and can't imagine having to kill someone. Hell, I hope I never have to. And when I'm talking about incapacitating someone, it's not so much Saturday Morning cartoon or comic book shenanigans. I've got no problem knocking someone out and locking them up if they are dangerous...

"Things might be different if my life is on the line," he adds solemnly, "but I'm gonna pray that that never comes to pass."

Agent had moved off to the side as the others spoke, sipping at his drink and letting the new people get to know each other.

"While I doubt you will be pushed to do anything you may not wish to do, the sad truth is that you need to be ready to face that decision, and it's consequences, if you do decide to join up and do field work. Because while you may not wish to resort to killing others, rest assured not all of them feel the same way."

Gadget finally finishes what she is doing and looks up, suddenly surprised that there are more people in the room.

"Oh, hello. I am Gweviviere DeWilliams, or Gadget if you prefer. Pleasure to meet you."

Wolf coughs and turns his head away, trying not to laugh at the distracted teen girl.

"Good to meet you too, Gadget," Melissa said with a bit of a smirk.  "I'm gonna guess that your primary job isn't guard duty, right?"

"Sorry, I'm being a bitch.  Crappy day with a good ending,"  She looked down at her outfit.  "Well, at least I wasn't a prison bitch."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:04, Tue 12 Jan 2021.

"Oh no, I primarily do research and development. Right now as Mr Havok was short on field agents I have been allowed to go into the field for the time being."

Agent takes another sip of his drink.

"Well, I would hazard a guess that someone will be along shortly. In the meantime, does anyone have any questions that we might be able to answer?"

"Yeah, a lot, but right now a big part of it is that I don't even know what I don't know, you know?" Melissa replied.  "I mean, I'm not even sure what questions to ask?"

"But okay," she said and then gestured at everything.  "Where did all this come from?  Who's paying for it all?  I mean... shit.  Even if fucking Jeff Bezoz had a hard-on for superpeople's rights, how the fuck would he keep building stuff like this a secret?"

Nora couldn't restrain herself, and briefly put her face in her hand, laughing softly but audibly at Mel's quips.   And found that she too had no real idea what to ask.

Increasingly, she was feeling in a weird mood.   And realistically, how would she not be after all of this-?  Eventually:

"Alright, I got one thing. No, two things: what kind of schedule will we keep?   Both now, and later?  I understand there's a high commitment here, a real purpose.  And I want to be part of it...I think.  But, I mean, do we ever get a day off?  Free time in the evenings, or something like that?   And, if possible, I would love to be able lay down in a real bed this evening. Listen to music I like, just veg for awhile, and re-center.  I think I can hit the ground running, tomorrow morning.  Right now, I'm...the Italian word is perplessa...in English, I think it's nonplussed. Like too much, you know?"

Havok, that gets a soft chuckle to him.

"A Shakespeare fan, I take it.  This Mr. Havok."

A reassuring smile is given towards Vic as Agent speaks up, giving a soft nod towards the man sipping his drink.

"I'll certainly defer to his word on the matter, Vic.  Admittedly, I am a bit envious.  Basic firearm safety has been drilled in to my head and just gone over in to my abilities as well.  You only aim at something you intend to completely destroy.  No warning.  No wounding."

For the first time that smile fully leaves his face as he's taken back to that earlier, simpler time.  He shakes his head a little and the smile returns.

"Sorry, must just be the atmosphere.  Cafeteria has me going back to the days of my youth.  Don't mind the old man going back to his training."

A wave is offered towards Gadget as she rejoins the world of flesh and blood.

"James, Shillelagh or just Shill for short works as well.  Get the jail break was just a quick way to get us here.  But how do we go about joining up this little group?  Group interview, One on One?  Realize this Mr. Havok is probably a busy man but wouldn't mind a little one on one with someone he trusts.  Second in command or something along those lines."

Agent smiles, and takes another sip of his drink as people talk.

"Well," he looks at Glaze, "John got this ship the old fashioned way. He stole it. As to the way it's creation, and aforementioned theft, was kept secret... well, let us just quote the golden rule on that one. He who has the gold, makes the rules. There are a lot of secrets out there, some hidden in plain sight, that the average person does not know about."

At Dawnfire's comments he gives her a small nod. "You are absolutely correct, something of this scale requires quite a commitment. However, everyone is human, or a close enough approximation, that they need a break. What I have found is that this line of work tends to be short bursts of action followed by periods of inaction and waiting. So you will have time to yourselves, as well as the ability for 'shore leave' as it were. As this ship travels around nearly constantly, there are almost always places one can be dropped for leisure. As to accommodations, I would assume that those will be provided, although I admit that is not my department."

Agent gives Shillelagh a look over. "I am sure that Lt Breyer will be here soon, if not Wraith, to speak officially. In terms of interviews, there is a standard layout of checking that has been done or is in process right now. It is not like one can ask for a resume at this point. Rest assured, by the time John needs to make a decision he will already know your background, dirty secrets, underwear size, and so forth."

"I don't suppose there's a place where we can get some fresh air?" Vic asks. "Suffice to say being stuck in a prison doesn't give one much opportunity to breathe anything other than bad odors and worse vibes."