chase

A diminutive grey-striped catgirl feliform wearing little more than a purple backpack bounds into view, scans the scene and stops dead in her tracks, a little cockeared and a very fluffed up. She fishes out a ream of paper stapled together and flips through it, reading, "yep... seems like the right place, now I just gotta look up my lines and..." It shouldn't be possible for her to get more fluffed up, but she manages, "Oh... no... that's a big nope." She continues to read through the script, page by page. "nope... nope.... William and Tabby f... absolutely not." Several pages later "Emily and Anni and Tabby.... man they're going nuclear on the fanservice there. Still a nope." "Nanite Hacker Lord and Tabby.. his nanites crawling through her fur...big nope there..." ...another page and she just drops the script like it had just burst to flame. "EEW" She pulls out a bundle of duct tape that somehow acted as a phone and dials. "Hello, office of Saul Rubenstein, Agent to Paragon's Elite. Can I speak to Marty?" "The intern. Yeah." "Hey Marty. I'm not doin it." "Nope... not a chance." "I don't care if it's for April Fools or not. I have my pride." "Yes, as bad as the pizza cat thing was, I still DO have some pride left, thankyouverymuch." "I know my fans would love it. That's why I won't do it. Hell, imagine the mashups that would occur." "I DON'T WANT THIS GOING VIRAL." "Well, what charity?" "That's not a thing." "Totally can't be a thing. I don't believe you. Doesn't matter." "What do I object to? Pretty much the whole thing!" "Yeah!" "So, they'll give me half if I just do the parts that I don't find objectionable?" "You've got that on paper?" "Deal" "Yeah, let me just make some edits and I'll resume where I cut off." Pocketing the phone Tabby tore off the cover page and the last page, tossing the rest of the script behind her, and reads, "A diminutive grey-striped... yeah we did that part. that's a take..." and flips to the second page and reads "Tabby leaves with a satisfied glow about her. She turns straight to the hidden camera, "I expect my payment direct deposit before my order's ready at City of Gyros." She smiles, adding "See this? this is my satisfied glow. I'm out" as she leaps away.

Tabby's budget doesn't allow for take-out... or dine-in. She has, however, mapped out where and when over a dozen organizations offer free food- from catered supergroup recruiting to FBSA's "donut day" in the city hall lunchroom, and when those fail, you can always check which crey facility is getting lunch delivered, send them an anonymous tip about an incoming hero raid, then sneak in and grab grub while they evacuate.

Is that really right to request this for someone who famously authors pieces containing "An Overly Long..." in the titles?" 😛

In the spectrum of superheroes that ranges between "cosplayers that like to punch things" to "cosmic entity that barely acknowledges humanity exists" my preferences are far closer to cosplayers, so I do know where you're coming from. I've seen it particularly in social situations, where you encounter a powerful entity who so discards your characters' challenges as so trivial and meaningless that it just sours things very early. Some of those cosmic-powered folk are exploring the trope of the person who's grown in power so far that he's lost some of his attachment to humanity. It's a great topic to explore, but the best examples of it remember that although the character may lose his empathy with those more common folk, extra effort is needed to assure the player does not. The people you're encountering may be insignificant insects from where you stand, but the players behind them are seeking something out of this encounter as well and exist to do more than serve your cosmic-sized ego. If they remember that, the cosmic-hero-level encounter can sometimes work for me. If it doesn't, I have no problem unilaterally retconning away the whole encounter. (I'd not "acknowledge their headcanon" using the terminology of this thread.).

Great posts. I personally like seeing COMMUNITY Headcanon come to life. What's community headcanon? Lore that you multiple people and collaboratively build, sometimes just from a seed planted by one person. Your Supergroup is a good example of one. It's not canon in the game, but it has a backstory and history and continuing development. You probably have someone acting as the loremaster authority shaping their vision, but the best ones leave room for people to add their own twist to it. The incredible supergroup-base social spaces do this as well- Yes, they're mostly the architect's headcanon, but as we all get to use them and interact in them, we in our own way can add to their lore. You can also have them be very open concepts not tied to a supergroup. They may start as one person's canon that others just love and latch onto,. - It can be as simple as a certain box of cold cereal or Saul Rubenstein, Agent to Paragon's Elite? - Maybe you have an idea for your own giant shadow organization that's stalking your hero and realize that it's so big that it's probably tracking other heroes. Pitch it and invite others to incorporate it into their stories. Give them the leeway to make it work. Or maybe you find another character with a similar ominous threat.. are they the same organization under multiple fronts. - Maybe it's a metahuman sporting league that your hero participated in. You have it in your backstory, and it'd be cool to have a supergroup based around it, but wouldn't it be even cooler to encounter *another* character you never knew, only to realize that they were on the team you bumped from the playoffs with that last-minute win... - They can be spontaneous- The Paragon Police Force is canon. Roleplaying a detective in the Paragon Police Force requires a degree of headcanon-creation. Two PPD detectives running into each other in Atlas park and commiserating on bizzarre Police Union grievances is Roleplaying. When that police union grievance board takes on a life of its own- that's community headcanon. Community Headcanon always comes with risks- you're putting your creation out there and no matter how detailed of a vision you shared, the moment you invite others to incorporate it into their vision, it will morph. Sometimes for good, sometimes into something unrecognizable. Some communities credit the original creator for having a "veto" rule, but the best of these can outlive the original author's participation in the game, leading to no clear "head." There's also the risk that it'll go nowhere. Sometimes, your idea isn't picked up or used by anyone other than yourself... and that really can be disappointing, but keep in mind that this really no different than any of your other headcanon- its largely your creation for your characters, and it's still available for you to use as you always would have, even if its never adopted by others. That's what happened with St. Ives Prep. After making (and encountering) young heroines and villains with troubled past and times spent in juvie, I decided to flesh out the place and see if others wanted to add their stories to it. To my knowledge, it didn't go anywhere. It's not something I'd tried to recruit for or build behind. That's something to keep in mind-- if you REALLY want to bring a community headcanon to life, you need to treat it like any online community- it needs some recruitment, some passionate advocates, and some time spent cultivating the community before everyone feels like a collaborator.

One of the real takeaways here is that while in a TV show, the hacking is just usually a quick moment to get a specific piece of information to move the plot forward. A real hacking effort could be a show unto itself, particularly if you introduce colorful and entertaining elements around the well-grounded hacking as provided by McSpazz. But what will your team consider colorful and entertaining? The easiest way to do that, is let them add it: Discovery: This is the part where you're gathering as much intel as possible before you do anything. The more info you have, the more directions you can take the attack. You won't use everything you find, but it gives you a chance to piece things together. This makes it an ideal time to introduce collaborative storytelling- distribute tasks and encourage them to get creative with the outcome. You send out a non-techie to walk around the public areas around the target with device that passively picks up wireless signals. - they come back saying how they were out on the sidewalk for less than 5 minutes when a whole crey response team came and interrogated them. Great- guess what? That's one crey response team not available to react elsewhere. - or they come back commenting on all the food delivery services that come in all the time, and security just waves them in without checking ID's. A potential vulnerability. - or they overheard a conversation about some tech that's on the fritz or mention an underground tunnel that's not on any of the plans... - or they encounter another organization (arachnos?) also scouting the place. - or they notice employees sleeping in their cars, rather than going home. - the scan finds an unexpected hotspot. You have a techie guy scan ancillary systems (like the utilities, phone company, etc) - they find on the hacker databases that a guy whose name matches a telephone company engineer uses the same username and password on a bunch of gaming sites. That let them get into the phone records- we can intercept calls! - on one of the message boards, they find where a hacker kid discovered a newly-replaced wirelessly-managed sewer pump still had the default password. It's changed now, but not before he inserted a back door to prove he was there. Someone else just scans the systems for software with zero-day exploits. - this extends beyond "what luck! they're on CreyCorp 2016R2. They never patched! - Maye the wireless scan ends up showing an outdated or malware-infected smartphone. Remotely enabling the microphone, you discover it's the poor underpaid security officer using a backup phone after the last one broke in a scuffle. So you get Info. What do you do with it? Probe further- Pull on those loose threads and see what it leads to. Test it out- see if someone CAN sneak by the guard as a city of gyros employee. Delicately probe at that zero day exploit and see where it leads to. Entire side-quests can occur here, depending on interest. Make Mistakes Happen- In any hack, mistakes are the true key. You only get so far on software exploits. Wonder what would happen if you went on social media and made a challenge that caused flashmobs around the building? How many crey enforcement squads would come out? What happens once they're tired and bored with all these false positives? You found that the head of physical security had a gambling problem (and a terrible password-management system) but not enough for blackmail material. Wonder what would happen, though, if suddenly someone made tons of bad bets on all his gambling websites accounts. He's sure to be distracted, if nothing else. That tech that's on the fritz. The repairmen were coming today. Social Engineer your way into a call with them and cancel the repairs. Really piss them off when you do, so they'll be really grouchy when they get calls asking when they're showing up. Form A Plan- (the heist) Sure, you could do it all remotely. You got info on vulneabilities and mistakes, you acted on them, prize accessed. Done. .... but c'mon. who doesn't like a good heist? Once you have had your fun probing and exploring and checking out your options, bring them together into a course of action: You've decided you need to break in to the crey lab and plug something into the wireless network. No other way. Fortunately, you think that by flooding the sub-basement by shutting off the sewage pump, you can get a small crew inside as cleaners. It's a shitty job, yes. Your intel gathering also let you know that the door that the lunchtime powerwalkers use when exiting the building has a broken sensor (they can sneak in and out without clocking out) so if they wedge something there to keep the door from latching, others can sneak in. Since you can triangulate the security guard's location with his cell phone and listen in, you know exactly where he'll be ... and he'll be the only one inside because the response team will be dealing with those stupid flashmobs. Once you get in, your hacker will need about 20 minutes of uninterrupted access to get what he wanted. He also plans to introduce a stealthy worm that would infect any other systems that may connect to this network. With any luck, techs that work on this project might get moved to other projects and take their infected computers with them.... it's a long game, but if it works, future heists will be far far easier. The Complications: Now the fun part- actively sabotaging your own plan. While the best heists really are done without ever raising alarms, the best heist stories never go as planned. By this point, everybody should have had a chance to contribute something to the story- some of these things may not have made it into the final plan... but they still might be needed when things go to crap. Imagine halfway through the heist you realize that yesterday was patch day and the zero-day exploit no longer works. The sewage pump handled a lot more effluent than you thought- and worse- it somehow restarted while your team was in the sub-basement. Power's out, elevator's broken. stairwell's locked, and your up to your armpits in crap. That security chief with the gambling addiction? the distraction backfired. He was out all day dealing with his bank but came back to the office late to make up time. One extra (and untracked) body in the building. This puts the security officer with the compromised microphone on a different routine. He's coming straight your way. You need a distraction fast, and your catgirl knows just the one! Now, you might all improvise. You might take pieces of intel that didn't make the plan before to find a way to success. Maybe you can still get out without being detected? It's your story. The Wrap: You can just end it here. You got your hacker prize- you do what you planned with it and it's done. Maybe you sell the intel, maybe it advances the overarching group story... but what about what you left behind? What makes the news? What doesn't? Is there any lasting effect or a chance to add some flavor? What are the threads from this story that might carry over into the next? Maybe you all have a new enemy in the chief of security. Maybe something had to be left behind- something that you can't just leave in your adversary's hands. Maybe there was damage control. Maybe that worm found its way into unexpected systems- including the neural implant of a cyborg assassin. Its countermeasures detected the worm, dissected it, and traced the code style back to the author through code snippets in his doctoral thesis... Or maybe your catgirl brings her new beau by the base with his snazzy new (and more secure) smartphone to celebrate his promotion. As the distraction she told the security officer that she was there to stop his boss from embezzling funds to fuel his gambling losses. She let him take the credit since she technically shouldn't have been there. --- How did you think she was going to distract him? I mean, yeah she'd had a crush on the beautiful baritone after her first shift listening in on him looking for exploits... but she really felt like she got to know him in that time and he's really a decent dude that's good with his puppies Mr SnarfleLumps and Ed... but dammit, she's a PROFESSIONAL! They didn't totally hook up until his shift was over!

I thought I'd extend this conversation by my own take on flaws: 1. A Flaw Becomes A Quirk Without Good Self-Control: I think about how they'd play out in a traditional pen-n-paper system. You might define something that just comes up when you want it to come up (a "quirk") or something that's gonna make you roll the dice at times that you normally wouldn't (or add a penalty to an existing die roll (a "flaw"). With in-game mechanics and no RP die rolls, you're stuck using an on-your-honor system to reasonably bring a flaw fully to life, affecting you when it's not convenient and letting foes really make it have an impact. As an example, here is one of Tabby's negative effects: If I was GM'ing a pen-n-paper game, everything above would just be a "quirk" because it's largely just flavor-text that comes up when the player wants and disappears otherwise. However, if we put rules with real negative impact to the gameplay- penalties to fine-manipulation rolls, this becomes a more costly weakness. If Tabby tried to grab a downed officer's gun to stop a baddie, but her failed manipulation roll means one of the one of the gel-caps got cocked and jams in the trigger guard, that's a flaw. It has a tangible negative impact. Or if Tabby was unable to call for help with a mouthful of the caps... or could choke on a critical failure... again, more impact. It's not a Kryptonite-level impact, but it has an impact. Now, back in-COH, I'm playing both the character and the GM enforcer that brings up a "would a die roll be needed here? Would I succeed?" 2. Quirks Are Fine (and fun)- Just Be Honest With Yourself. Quirk-level play can still be engaging play, but be honest with yourself if it isn't a true weaknesss. Tabby has an intolerance of furries- She protests the stereotypes people impose on catgirls when it affects herself, but she reflexively assumes those same negative stereotypes are true for every other crittergirl she meets. She can be downright rude to them, blaming them for the way others perceive her, while totally blind to the fact she's doing the same to others. If something like this gets resolved quickly- if it's gone with a moment of revelation, "oh, you're not like that either!" it's barely a quirk, and I do tend to play it that way during chance encounters when I don't know how the PLAYER would take persistent bitchiness, but in a more established player-relationship, I can really dig into it. Tabby has quite the love-hate relationship that borders on dysfunction with my wife's catguy, Rascal. ) 3. Your Flaws are Your Own- Don't Make Them Your Team's. This is a tough balancing act. Some of the best uses of Flaws is to enhance the team narrative- what makes you great is not just what you can do, but the people around you that help you when you're down. That's a GREAT narrative element. I'm not discouraging that. In pen-n-paper games, the 2 most common "Flaws" abused by powergamers are "dependents" and "enemies". Terms and rules change based on game system, but generally speaking, the player takes on these limiting factors as a trade-off for more points to spend elsewhere on the character. It's a great way to boost your character up- they're still inherently great and their flaws are all external. There's a built-in incentive system to take more powerful foes (or more-dependent dependents) that have a high frequency of appearing each game session. When they do show, your whole team will help take them down. You've made your own character stronger while making the whole team have to work harder. I need to state again, though- there are GREAT STORIES that can arise from this. Batman's great in part because of the extended bat-family. You just must avoid abusing it. Make sure that although the entire team may need to step in and help, the cost of that enemy or dependent really rests on YOU. The risk of failure should fall on your shoulders- even if a friend falls in battle helping you save your dependent, there is a weight YOU must carry. An active and powerful enemy can also take away from others' own personal narrative. If you're taking cycles upon cycles of game-time having the team address YOUR issues and you're not in a prearranged pseudo-campaign-gm-role, assure others have cycles to include their own narrative- collaborate, even -- if they have enemies or dependents too, what happens when they both come gunning? 4. Don't Be Quick To Judge Others' Flaws as Misplayed In roleplaying, people will often telegraph their flaws early on in benign ways that just seem to be quirks. They have no impact, save for the color they provide at that moment. They might just be that- but they may also be subtly letting you know that these can have a bigger impact later in play if opportunity arises. Be prepared for that, but don't punish them if it doesn't. If an opportunity for that flaw passes later on and nothing happens it could be that they were more concerned about disrupting a dramatic moment for another character. They may not have wanted to draw a spotlight onto themselves. Perhaps they missed the opportunity but don't want to backpedal. There may be reasons. Now, if you're roleplaying a conflict and were relying on exploiting that flaw just to have it handwaved away, don't assume the worst. Engage constructively, they may have real reasons you cannot see. Don't make a pattern out of one encounter. 5. If You Really Trust Your Team... I mean really trust your team. Factor in the odds that they're playing while drunk when you decide on that trust. Then factor in the odds that you're drunk, too. This is something that can go horribly wrong OR horribly right depending on your team: Don't rely on your own personal moderation for when your flaws come into play- invite your teammates to introduce these moments as well, then react to them. Some of the most fun I ever had with Tabby was letting others introduce flaw moments. I love reacting to the unexpected and scrambling for the appropriate response. I've also seen such moments devolve into nothing but a missed opportunity for a "yakity sax" soundtrack, with everyone triggering everyone else's flaws in the virtual equivalent of a free-for-all pie fight, so some moderation is necessary. It's still fun, but you're all left with the RP equivalent of a hangover hoping that everyone will embarrassingly agree that the last session should be retconned away....

Good writeup, although I do think some of the biggest offenders will take offense to some of the characterizations and thus ignore some of the constructive points here. Although I haven't encountered it with the return of CoH, one of the more disruptive "powers" (due to my tendency to play dirt-broke characters) LET ME PUT THAT ON MY CARD: You probably know the type-- the person that sees financially-struggling heroes and immediately starts throwing unlimited credit lines at everyone as if he was Oprah coming onstage, "YOU get a swiss bank account... and YOU get a swiss bank account... and you- YOU ALL GET SWISS BANK ACCOUNTS." The ones that are honestly upset when you either won't accept it ("that's not realistic- everyone would take it!") or that the impact of the life-altering (and character-concept-altering) windfall isn't being carried out the next time you run into the character. By their logic, if I was going to pretend to be poor again, I had better have come up with an RP story to explain how I lost all their funds, and then they just want to wire me more money again.... Having a financier is good and can add an extra dimension to a supergroup's play-- when done with care and caution- and yes- someone at Bezos' wealth but trying to do good might just decide to bankroll an army of heroes so they never have to worry about rent or food or the cost of bullets again... but there's a better way than single-handedly trying to wipe away an aspect that other players have written into their characters for their storytelling.

In CoH there was this really annoying catgirl I once played.... Seriously though, I've had more trouble back when I was the default GM in pen-n-paper. I did my best to adapt my vision to the characters that players brought to the table, and several gaming sessions were dominated with grimdark characters, so their opponents turned even darker and some did get uncomfortable to bring to life.

Tabitha sat on a rooftop watching the fireworks go off above Peregrine Island, unfazed by her feet dangling over the edge, many stories up. A well-worn journal was open on her lap as she chewed on her pen. She read from the latest page: "This year everything changes. No more waiting for a cure from someone else. FIND A WAY TO CHANGE BACK. Don't be afraid to try. Get this over with so you can live the life you want, do what you want, and be who you want to be. Do not let your life be "on hold." Make it happen." Fireworks in the city were far more elaborate than the ones her backwoods county would set off and she only ever saw them from a distance across the lake. Here, from her dangerously-close viewpoint, she could feel the shockwave on her fur- the best ones even rippled through her, forcing a little air out of her lungs. Their sounds were deafening. She'd seen a lot this year and been dangerously close to explosions bigger than these, but she could still lose herself in them. In contrast, looking at the journal deflated her. What she read was last years' resolution. Yet here she was. Unchanged... or more accurately, still changed. She flipped back further until she found the resolution from the year before that. Pretty much the same thing. In a fit of frustration, she threw the journal from the rooftop, immediately regretted that decision, and started after it down a parkour path that any "american ninja warrior" contestant would "nope" out of. Friction-braking down the side of a building to a balcony, then leaping across a road onto a parking garage, to another roof, then across an awning clearly not meant to hold much weight, then diving off a pier to pull her book from the water. It was soaked. Many of the pages smeared and unreadable, but the very last page, where she'd started writing this years' resolution, had 3 words perfectly clear, "Make it happen." She flipped through the journal, watching memories she logged fade from view, wondering why she ever tried to preserve them. "It's enough." Soaked and shivering in the cool sea breeze, she watched the fireworks finale. "This year.... one way or another, whichever way *it* goes- it will happen."

Fur honor, De Hai Preest of da Nekonomnomicon sez he is being purrsecuted by da heroeses. Doing whatefur he wants is part of his Relishun. Da heroeses sez "ok, We's also followin Nekonomnomicon. We do whatefur we want too, and we wants tah chaseses da Hia Preest moar." Halp!

Tabby’s First Gyro One of the perils of learning a word by reading is getting its pronunciation right I, for example, grew up in an area with very little greek influence, so I’d only ever read- not heard- gyro, and just assumed it was pronounced phonetically with a hard g. Tabby had much the same problem. WARNING: I’m spoilering this for suggestive content, but it's really only a walk and talk in Atlas park. It's only suggestive if you're already corrupt...and pronounce gyro correctly. (also, apologies to any characters named in this piece. I didn't go online and search for open names before coming up with the supporting cast.)

Gonna cheat here and post over part of Marzaana's FBSA profile to start. I'm still behind on other posts: Extract from FBSA debriefing with Tabitha Lachann (Tabby) ''… Mary Zane? Insane Mary Zane, of the “Zane Foundation” Zanes? Yeah, that’s actually how she’d introduce herself- well, not the insane part, but “Zane Foundation,” part, like “my family’s so rich we have our own foundation” bullshit. God, she was a pretentious bitchy wannabe goth-head. '' ''Y’know, when your boarding school makes everyone dress the same and won’t let you wear make up or jewelry, it takes real talent to pull off the goth look. That’s about the only talent she had. Oh, that and finding fifty thousand ways to fit “we have money” into a conversation.'' ''… yeah, we didn’t quite get along. You can tell? She was all pissy and moaning that I got to do magic research but she wasn’t allowed. Not that the no talent hack could do anything with the knowledge.' ''… Arch nemesis? Well that sounds kinda extreme. I mean, we’re not friends… not even frenemies… we just… hmm… maybe just nemesis. I wouldn’t want to give her the satisfaction of arch-nemesis.' ''… she’s a necromancer now? Seriously? Are you sure she’s not just paying people to cosplay it up for her amusement? She did that… like… I think it was our sophomore open-house. Totally freaked the faculty till I ruined her fun.. Some ancestor of hers supposedly was known for being bloodier and more murderous than Dracula, or so she says. Like that's a good thing. Nuts. ' ''Can I see that file? ...Marzaana! Hah! An eastern-european death goddess! See what I mean about being a pretentious bitch? God, she probably just googled for "death goddess" and ran down the list of results. Hilarious since most tales have Marzanna appearing like Baba Yaga. A girl so obsessed with looks chooses an ugly old hag for her name. Geeze, she can’t even spell Marzanna right.' ''...Oh, the name was already taken in the registry?' ''...By a real death goddess from eastern europe? ''...Now here, in Paragon? ''...Can we, um, edit these transcripts. Take out the “hag” reference, maybe? Just in case she reads this... ' Tabby and Marzaana are constant rivals ever since very early in Tabitha's placement at St. Ives. Unlike Tabby, who's quite convinced she's just an utter failure, Marzaana's determined to prove she's not. Tabby sometimes points to Marzaana as proof that she's a loser, too- because everyone knows a hero's only as good as her archnemesis, and her archnemesis is such a loser. They'll continue to spar against one another through the city for quite some time before Marzaana's quest for power peaks. When it does and Tabby's forced to be the one to step up, thwart her nemesis, that's when Tabby's defining moment occurs (soon(tm)).

I've thought about doing that, but the closest I have to date is some former Praetorians, trying to make a buck, have started recycling clockwork- ranging from basic companion models to some spare MkIV chassis' with what they've taken to call the [Tab]-E variant. They tend to malfunction a lot- maybe manufacturing defect, maybe something inherent in their logic circuits when trying to emulate a catgirl, who knows? Instead of speaking just clockwork-ese, they included the full library (royalty-free) of every utterance Tabby's ever been recorded saying. Fighting them is like fighting a "best of" album of all her most embarrassing moments.

Chase Arcanum and Partizan both served together under the man, the legend, Cole MacKinnon, and were two of the very few people to survive his command. Although Cole's (heavily redacted) memoirs inspired an entire blockbuster movie franchise and he's widely recognized as a hero, Chase hasn't bothered to see one of them... and not just because the writers took creative license with his character (renamed "Chance" and given an uncanny ability to stumble successfully through messy situations for comic relief- something Max (Partizan) loves to tease him about). Chase blames Cole for... a lot- for some legitimate reasons and some maybe less. I have an incomplete story for Chase. He's isolated in some Circle of Thorns cell, keeping himself sane by playing "spades" with his phantasmal army when his deceased squadmates manifest in each phantasm. They banter like they always did over the course of a few hands while lecturing to him about living and letting go and that sometimes- just sometimes, maybe, asking "what would Cole do" and doing the opposite is not the best show of leadership. They then help in his escape using classic Cole battle tactics To this day, he doesn't know if those were real manifestations or some sort of dissociative break. Cole, for his part, has always been struggling by the realization that killing (and ordering others to their death) came so easy to him. An old quote from an old military book haunts him- is this dark realization reflecting something terribly wrong in himself, or in all humanity. Which would be worse? I have (another) incomplete story set in the Chum Bucket- a conversation between him and Russian Blue, or as he puts it, "An old warhorse trying to find empathy and one of the world's most powerful telepaths trying to hide from it." I tried to dust off both decade-old stories and finish them for posting here but... hey! I guess I shoulda had trigger warnings on them because it ends up I'm not as ready as I thought to revisit them. Another time. Ima now gonna go write something weird and funny and embarrassing- bordering on torturous - to some catgirl that'll remain unnamed to protect the innoc for dramatic impact later.

Ok, so Tabby's rather unique, since her costume is a bit... nonexistant, but that doesn't mean there aren't different looks. I have 4 "main" costumes for Tabby In the image below "A" is the starndard Tabby. The purple "shoulder" pad is a jogger's phone caddy. It also carries her housekeys, her ID, loose change, etc, since one (of many) problems of going with such a simple look is no pockets. In "B", she includes her beat up nylon backpack, because sometimes you gotta carry more than just your basics, like carrying leftover food back from a supergroup recruiting event or your disguise In "C" This is Tabby Incognito. I have a variant with the tail hidden (tucked down a pant-leg) but to be honest- that thing has a mind of its own and will always find its way out. The oversized hoodie and jeans are incredibly uncomfortable with her condition, leading her to walk like someone with 2nd-degree all-body sunburn wearing sandpaper underwear, but sometimes Tabby just doesn't want to be noticed. This costume... doesn't do that, but so far, people are too polite to tell her that. "D" is why you always carry your backpack. Fireballs and fur don't mix, and when they sometimes do, a poof of particles and the smell of singed fur has Tabby checking if certain details are showing through. If there's a chance they are, she'll grab a teammates cape, maybe a hellions vest, maybe a Lost jacket and wrap it into some sort of cover. The remaining costumes tend to be variants of these. They tend to shuffle through what I anticipate needing in a given session. "C" unhooded and unmasked, for example, or a "singed Tabby" variant for a specific group (Tabby Crey and Carnie Tabby* variants clutter my "saved" costumes). *Yes, I know, a carnie-tabby really isn't needed, since the carnies live to party and have certainly heard the old Pocket D adage, "It isn't a party until there's naked catgirls on the dancefloor" and so there's really nothing she needs to change to fit in to one of their raves.... kinda disconcerting the way they cheer when she shows up ready to bust 'em, but...

I'll start with Chase Arcanum's for once. Tabby's will take longer (surprise) For him, it came down to one argument... and the rikti war. The hero Arkane of the midnight squad had tried to recruit the young college professor when he realized the young man's potential, but after his deployments to the Persian Gulf and his time under the command of the legendary Cole Mackinnon, Chase Miller was ready to return to civilianhood and seek out a "normal life." Chase explained that 'd paid his dues, and was determined to reap the reward- both for himself and for the friends that paid far more but would never have a chance for the same. Just a few years past legal drinking age, he'd seen, experienced, and felt things nobody should have. It was time for someone else to pick up the fight. Arkane offered him knowledge- the surest lure for an academic- but didn't want just another researcher for the effort, he wanted more than that. Chase consumed the knowledge but seemed determined NOT TO apply it. In one confrontation, Arkane broke his normal emotionless demeanor to confront Chase, "Why did you join the army, Chase- and don't give me the shit that it was for the money. You could have had any scholarship you wanted. You did it because you believed- and tired as you are- you still believe. Someday, maybe soon, maybe years from now, there's going to be a moment and you won't be satisfied with standing back and letting someone else pick up the fight. You WILL join it. It's who you are. The question is, will you be ready enough to do anything more than add your name to the body count." That was a week before the first Rikti invasion. Chase helped organize the evacuation of students on the PCU campus and joined in their defense. He saw his mentor and friend fall in battle. He saw student heroes- just kids- pick up the fight, disorganized and unprepared as they all were. He stood with them and did everything he could. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. He'd learned that day that there is no chance for a "normal life" for believers- There was just remaining vigilant for the next threat, and protecting others from seeing the world he sees.

It had been a long day for Todd Hildebrand- the open vacancies in the Records had hit new highs and he’d been struggling to juggle both the extra workload and interviewing new candidates. HR had promised him they’d do a better job filtering out the bad ones, but here he was with this latest “candidate.” “So, ms… Tabitha… Lachann. Did I pronounce that correctly?” “Yes” the catgirl quickly, eagerly responded. *Felinoid* Todd corrected himself internally, *Felinoid is more PC, and probably more accurate here. The term catgirl covered a large spectrum, including people wearing cat accessories like ears and tail, while here before him was someone far more biologically feline- with fur, ears, eyes, whiskers, the works. And tiny by human standards- probagbly 4 feet although Todd’s proximity to City Hall guaranteed that he’d encountered folk much smaller ... and much much larger for that matter. “Do you prefer a nickname- Tabitha… Tabby?” “Tabitha, Please.” Her ears perked, “Ok, so, um… Tabitha- I have to say you had some very fine referrals- Azuria and Montague Castanella both spoke highly of your proficiency, and you really impressed the first round of interviewers. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet with you then, but the demands of the position, and all.” “Oh, I understand completely, sir.” She said, nodding her head and smiling in a way intended to offer support but also something else- desperation? Hope? Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to be a little unconventional here and just address some of the red flags here, right off the bat. I haven’t had much spare time to dig into them myself, so I was hoping you could help fill in the blanks.” “Red flags?” she asked, practically wilting in the seat. “Particularly, it seems you spent the past four years at St. Ives, a boarding school for youth adjudicated delinquent… could you elaborate.” She squirmed in the seat, “Well, y’know… it was… mostly moving violations.” The evasiveness was palatable. “You don’t get 4 years in placement for moving violations.” She nervously shuffled, “Well, it depends on what those movements were and what was violated, right?” and almost immediate regretted the phrasing. “I mean… that came out wrong. From a catgirl that kinda implies a different type of movement… not what I was suggesting at all. Honest. It’s nothing like that. Totally.” He ignored her, “Fortunately we can just take a look.” “I thought juvie records were sealed” she blurted out, suddenly appearing far more nervous. He let his eyes lead her to the department sign “records” and waited a moment for it to register before looking to his computer screen, “Well, you certainly weren’t lying were you? Driving underaged. Driving without a license, driving an unregistered vehicle on the public accessway. Speeding 40mph over the limit in a 55 zone.” “it was kinda an emergency” He continued, “...Speeding 60mph over the limit in a 25 mph zone. 23 counts of property destruction by vehicle… “Mailboxes, mostly. I hadn’t really driven much before, and have you ever driven a ‘72 duster. The dash is way too goddamn high. I shoulda maybe taken time to adjust the seat better.” “...Vehicular assault on another vehicle. Attempted vehicular assault on a pedestrian” “I don’t really recall those, but I’ll take their word for it- remember, I really couldn’t see above the dash very well.” “... wrong way down a one-way street. 14 counts of unsafe lane change. 33 counts of failure to obey traffic signals. Failing to cede to law enforcement.” “...I swear, if they ever let me drive again, I’ll get better.” “...It just keeps going. It’s like they went through the entire vehicle code and just checked everything” “Yeah, well, it was a scary moment- I was trying to find help with … well, a demonic possession- mine, to be honest. You kinda take desperate measures.” “...Operating under the influence. Underage drinking, too. That’s a rather serious one.” “Yeah, I know, and I totally fess up to that. Part of that whole demonic-possession ritual thing and couldn’t wait till I sobered up. Totally will never happen again. … “Operating an unsafe vehicle on the highway. Violating emissions standards…” “Yep. Dad was restoring the duster and it wasn’t street legal yet. No mirrors. No muffler. No exhaust at all, really. The fumes just flowed straight into the car cabin from the holes in the floorboard. Probably had a bigger effect on my sobriety than the booze to be honest.” “Ok, here we go with some non-vehicular offenses. Destruction of art valued at over $100k? Desecration of a house of worship..” “Kinda vehicular, and kinda the same thing, though desecration seems a bit strong. The church had these massive ornate ancient bronze-and oak doors and they were locked and I was really desperate to get in, so I kinda… sorta… thought if I nudged thema little with the car I could get through. Kinda mixed up the gas and brake pedal…” “Use of lethal force on a state official” “Oh, he didn’t die- and it wasn't intentional. Officer Bondell found me after I passed out and changed. I… kinda grabbed his arm.” She fiddled with her hand and snapped off a plastic cap that looked like the end knuckle of her finger, revealing an inch long cat claw, “severed a bunch of tendons and he almost bled out, but was totally an accident.” “This is the same Officer Bondell that’s in your references?” “Yeah, he’s a sweet guy. He’s retired now- on disability- and we try to keep in touch.” “Ok, well that seems to be all of it. It certainly explains the 4 years… Travis was the judge, too? That alone explains the 4 years. He’s always been a hardliner." “So, I guess that’s it, huh? No chance I can work in the records room?” “What? No. I mean, no, this doesn’t blow your chances. Maybe somewhere else, but this is Paragon City. We know all about how a superpower’s manifestation can lead to unintended disaster. Lewis in public affairs nearly committed fratricide the first time his lycanthropy manifested- he’ll probably share the story with you before your first week is done. “I’ll just need info on your social media accounts for the internet background checks.” “Internet background check?” “Yes- don’t worry, it’s nothing too big-brothery, we just do a check on all recruits to be sure there’s nothing too controversial or unsavory - Although some of us work far from the spotlight, we’re all still expected to represent the city in the best light. We've lost a few candidates to some rather raunchy nightclub posts, media posts supporting arachnos- an OnlyFans account, that kind of thing." Tabitha squirmed a little in the chair, opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, shifted again, made some kid of gesture, then tried again, “I… I don’t really post online myself. I try to keep it low-key.” “Oh, ok, that’ll make this easy then.” He gestured her to the door. “ If you don’t mind, I’ll see you out and then get the search started.” About halfway to the door, she stopped him, “ when you say search…” “I just google your name and any aliases, really. If you don’t have a social media presence, I probably won’t find anything.” “Are there filters- I mean, this is a government place, I’m sure you guys limit what employees can or can’t access on the web. Not that it matters or anything here. Just… just wondering.” “Here in records we get to work unfiltered- otherwise it wouldn’t even be possible to open some profiles, like Silver Mantis or Bobcat. Why? Is there a problem?” “No… no. I can’t say there’s a problem. Can’t say that I’ve ever… y’know… googled myself before, so… no. Just… y’know, there are a lot of catgirls out there, and I’m sure a name like Tabby isn’t that uncommon and… well y’know.” He smiled reassuringly, “I assure you, in the rare chance we find anything negative, we have a careful interdepartmental review to rule out incorrect matches- probably close to twenty people . You’ll be fine.” She didn’t seem reassured as he walked her to the door. Todd took a detour to the coffeemaker before heading back to his desk. She seemed like a nice girl. Quiet. Timid. She probably had such a scare with her brush with the law that she’s keeping a low profile now. He liked that. Records isn’t a place for excitement or distraction. He even berated himself for his first impression when he saw her, reminding himself how one has to constantly be vigilant for their own prejudices. She’s a library sciences major, after all, why'd he ever expect anything unseemly. Sitting back down at his desk, he thought, “this might take 5 minutes... at most…”

“Most embarrassing moment? Man… that’s…. Y’know that’s a tough thing to single out. It’s been kinda a rapid succession of embarrassing moments since I was 14. If you spent every day looking like an anime character-the hentai kind- you’d know what I mean. “But what’s the most embarrassing?” “I’ve… I’ve never really thought about it. It’s not something that I tend to talk about, but this stakeout IS going nowhere so… lemme think a moment. “Just keep this between us, ok? It’s not like I want something like this published on the internet. “I mean, OBVIOUSLY having hundreds of unflattering pics powering the internet’s meme-engine is pretty embarrassing, but i can’t really single out one of them as THE most embarrassing. The viral video-yeah, the one edited to suggest I was… umm… y’know… excited. Really Excited. Like REALLY REALLY excited over a pizza. You know what I mean with the 'When Harry Met Sally' Kat’z deli audio mixed in. “I still cringe a little when someone shouts, ‘Tastes like Victory’ or calls me the PizzaCat. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s all mortifying, but at least most of that isn’t in-person. It’s just crap posted online. Heroes gotta deal with that kind of crap when they’re in the public eye, right? The in-person mishaps have got to be worse- like when a PPD glue bomb plastered me to a wall posed like an Egyptian hieroglyph. “You saw that? Oh, yeah, the tiktok with “walk like an egyptian” soundtrack. I’d somehow managed to purge that from memory.. “As bad as that was, the worst part came afterward= when they tried to peel me free. What you (hopefully) can’t tell in the TikTok is that that foaming glue gets… well… it gets everywhere. That’s particularly bad for folk like me that 1) have a lot of fur and 2) don’t wear much else. "Get where I’m coming from? "They were consummate professionals, but sometimes professional is a little too clinical. They just wanted to keep me stuck up on the wall until a female officer could arrive and ‘discreetly help’ apply the solvent. -Yeah. Really. Leaving me hanging there until she could arrive. They wouldn’t just give it to me to apply myself ‘Sorry, we can’t risk this secret formula getin leaked to the public. Maybe if you were a registered hero...’ "Yeah. My ASS! “Heh, well, quite literally my ass, I guess. Eventually we compromised with them hitting the… uh… safe areas… and I just accepted I’d have a sticky semi-transparent bikini goo for the rest of the night. It looked as bad as it sounds, PLUS Every step I took felt like a real slow and painful wax job, “Sorry, was that too much information? “Hah! Now this conversation will be one of your most embarrassing moments, eh? “I figured I could just stick to the shadows and sneak home with nobody the wiser, but of course that’d be the night where the apartment across the street caught fire. Hard to sneak past 30 firemen, god knows how many lookie-loos, and a newscrew. "That… that hast to be pretty high on the list. “Oh! I almost forgot -there’s one time I stopped a mugging in the most catgirl-way possible. I kinda fell into the group when a fire escape was CLEARLY not up to safety code, and when i hit the ground on all 4’s they thought I was gonna lunge at them. "Really tense stuff- Guns. Hostage. All that. "To be honest, the fall was so bad that I really wanted to just curl in a ball and whimper. Totally unplanned. I did manage to activate my emergency 911 trigger on my phone, then did whatever I could to de-escalate things waiting on the cops. I went from crouched like I would pounce to just laying on my belly, propping myself up on my elbows and – y’know- trying to look totally relaxed and nonthreatening. "Unfortunately, I totally missed how all this looked from their perspective till I noticed they had trouble making eye contact. A few degrees south of my eyes, my elbow-rest was putting my boobs on full display, in the other direction, my rump did the same, with my tail snaking around like it was trying to hypnotize them. Damn thing always has a mind of its own. “I was absolutely clueless. Totally. I mean, sure they were muggers, but I would have never guessed they were into that furry thing. I just kept making it worse saying things like “Hey, I’m just laying here, not threatening you in any way, If you don’t like it, just tell me the place and position you want me in!” “Yeah, I really was a little dense that night, but I think part of the confusion was because they saw me as a catgirl. If a NORMAL cape was laying on the ground making suggestive comments, you’d kinda question whether there was failure in communication somewhere, but a catgirl? That sounds pretty par for the course. “ It was so bad that the muggers got visibly uncomfortable. - Yeah, really. “The most insane part was that it kinda worked. When we both realized the misunderstanding, everyone got all flustered and laughing and relieved. Ended up convincing them to put the guns away and go away, with even the guy getting mugged laughing the whole thing off. --- At this point, Tabitha paused. Her eyes went to the floor and and her tone dropped from a somewhat chirpy laugh to something more somber, “But y’know, in all seriousness, I think I’ve grown desensitized a bit over the years. When I think back to it, the stuff that really embarrassed me then are pretty mundane in comparison, but still hurt so much more. “My first week in placement at St. Ives, the other girls in Dorm B invited me to one of their post-lights-out parties. Ya gotta understand, I’d never really fit in to regular school before the change, really- always an outcast. I… I didn’t know what to expect, I figured I’d be even more of an outcast once this… condition too hold. The invitation- it kinda gave me hope things would be different. Maybe- just maybe- people would see something in the new me that they liked. Maybe I could be… y’lknow… I wasn’t aiming for popular, but maybe accepted? Mary Zane was probably the most influential girl in the dorm. Her vouching for me carried weight. “So about 8 of us gathered in Mary’s room, we all had introductions and awkward chatter. Girl stuff. Snuck some contraband booze, but there wasn’t enough to get more than a buzz, then they decided to play truth or dare. “I was kinda uncomfortable with some of the questions the other girls got, so I took a dare right off the bat. Mary said, 'kiss me.' “I was… well, terrified. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I wasn’t sure what I expected but not that. I didn’t have a lot of experience kissing beyondt like a mom-or-dad type goodnight kiss and never a girl. The other girls were giggling and chiding me on playfully, letting me know it was no big deal, so I went along with it. “I kinda expected just a peck and be done, but Mary held my head there and turned it into- y’know, a real blockbuster leading lady/leading guy type lip-mashing. It seemed to last forever, and then when it ended, she gave this kinda intimate smile and giggle- her face still so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. “I… I wasn’t sure what to feel or expect or react. Like I said, no experience in that sort of thing, but God, after so many years of being the outcast, that moment…it was liberating. I think it was that giggle more than anything else. To be that close to someone else with your defenses so down so much. Vulnerable, but... safe. "I giggled too. “When she told Becca, the girl next to her, that she needed to try it too, I didn’t object or point out how it violated the rules of the game. We kissed. We smiled. Giggled “Then Becca and Mary huddled together and started chittering among themselves, not letting any of the rest of us in on their little conversation. I just stood there, a grinning idiot, wondering when I’d be let in on the joke. “I was the joke. “Mary Zane’s whole demeanor flipped like a switch, and every girl in the room flipped right along with their leader- insane Zane. She dismissed me like you’d dismiss waitstaff. I was so stunned, I guess I didn’t move fast enough, so she told me more explicitly to leave, that I was no longer needed there, and that she and Becca had just never kissed anyone with facial hair before and had wondered what it was like. "All the girls were taunting me. "I ran from the room. “Of course, by the next day they were all telling stories about me trying to kiss Mary and Becca and it had been all me and they had to throw me from the room. They claimed they were being nice by not telling the ward masters, since- after all- you know how catgirls are.” Tabitha could no longer make eye contact. She studied the floor, the ceiling, her hands, looking anywhere but you. She sniffled, “I… I never told anyone about that. It’s stupid, I know, that was over four year ago. One tiny fraction of a moment in time- and so many friggin things have occurred since then You’d think that with all the memes and messy situations I’ve stumbled through, I’d have forgotten all about that, but that… that’s gotta be the most embarrassing moment of my life.” She sniffled again. “Damn allergies.” “Can we maybe change the topic?”

Most of my young adult heroes or villains have gone through some sort of process in the juvenile justice system / youth services / foster program. Although I never experienced that, my first post-college job was with troubled kids in placement and I got to see many of the challenges, drawbacks, and benefits those programs can have on people passing through them. Maybe I like imagining the kids would persevere through the challenges I witnessed. Most of my characters are ALSO young adult. I'm well out of that age range, myself, but I just recall all the uncertainty and sudden ambiguity and self-discovery you're faced with as you start out on your own and imagine adding the challenges of hero-dom paralelling that so well. A majority of my older heroes are military veterans- probably also due to my own veteran status. I've witnessed many friends' challenges coming back from war, along with my own transition, and -again- I just find it such interesting ground to explore (and, sometimes, TBH, it's a chance to explore alternative outcomes. None of my characters are wealthy, and many are barely scraping by. Very few of my villains are actually stereotypically villainus. They're usually rather decent people with one bad character flaw or one bad choice that put them on the darker path. Sometimes that one flaw will continue to prevent them from ever being redeemed and sometimes their past leaves them feeling incapable of redemption.

Tabby's thinking fits GreyCat's "Cat"- the money's not hers, so as tempted as she'd be to get ahead of student loans or her phone plan, she'd first want to use it in some way to assure the people affected by the fire are "made whole" afterward. After that, before she takes a penny, there are a few other debts she'd want to clear out: In young Tabitha's desperate attempt to thwart/counter a demonic transformation, she took a lot of desperate acts- one that culminated in breaking into a church. The centuries-old massive oaken doors shipped over from the "old country" and covered in brass-bas relief depicting every book in the bible proved no match for the lockpicking techniques made possible through the front bumper of a partially-restored '72 duster. Even if Tabby wasn't judicially ordered to pay restitution for the restoration, she wants to. Feels like she needs to. Then there's the officer that found and woke Tabby post-transformation. The panicked girl grabbed his forearm tightly, unaware her now-catlike claws would shred right through flesh. He holds no grudge against her and is content with his pension, but she's determined to do better for him and his family. She could not let herself live a more luxuriant lifestyle than someone who she impacted so badly. Finally, after all that is paid out and she's left with very little, if any... maybe enough to reward herself with a nice dinner... her trademark terrible karmic backlash has to hit: Next tax day she learns that the lottery winnings were taxable and she never gave uncle sam his cut.

I blame the following on CrystalDragon for coming up with these writing prompts and Itsyagirl for raising the bar with a better (and far more concise) story teaser that should absolutely be expanded upon. -------------------------------------- A thoroughly bedraggled Tabby limped into her apartment, tossing a handful of mail on the kitchenette island just before losing her footing on the wet tile. Her backpack landed with a “splort” beside it. Even though nobody was present, she grumbled in a mock-authoritative voice as she fished around the cabinet for a plastic bag full of rice for her still-dripping phone. , “Sorry folks, looks like our supergroup recruiting dinner’s over Lusca’s threatening independence port again! Let’s make this into a trial by fire!” Dropping back to her normal voice, “I shoulda said *no thanks. I look too much like a live-action anime character to get anywhere near tentacles. Bye.* “I was only there for the food, anyway.” Done wringing her hair out over the kitchen sink, she plucked out a strand of seaweed- no, not a strand-, this was too big for that. Maybe a ROPE of seaweed- she could feel it sliding through her hair, up her neck from past the small of her back and up her tail as she tugged. It had to be a good 4 feet of cold, wet slime sliding up her back. Experiencing such a sensation so close to the topic of tentacles made her shudder. “Speaking of food…” Her tone lifted- far more upbeat as she turned her attention to the backpack’s contents. She’d snagged some grub from the buffet while everyone was heading out to Lusca, so with any luck she’d eat well tonight. Luck wasn't with her. She pulled out a gallon plastic bag with 6 pieces of fried chicken floating in about a half gallon of seawater. Her whiskers, ears and tail telegraphed her sagging enthusiasm even as her stomach growled in protest. The drumstick didn't look TOO bad, she thought as she flicked off something that looked like a barnacle. and dropped it in the microwave The soggy breading, already peeling off, sloughed off with an unappetizing squelch. Despite all audiovisual cues- not to mention the odor of wet cat with hints of petroleum residue- her stomach growled louder. She chose 4 minutes. "That oughta kill off anything else crawling in it... maybe. still gonna be salty. " She checked the clock. “Shit. It’s nearly raid time. Can’t be late. This is the final test for guild membership.” Tabby had been playing the free version of EverWar Online for over a month now. It was a relaxing way to wind down in the evenings (when her neighbor’s wifi bandwidth allowed it) and it was especially nice to be treated as just another human online. Yes, they knew she was a GIRL online, and yes that had its own pitfalls, but for at least ONCE the jerks and pervs hitting on her weren’t FREAKS chasing after catgirl tail. They thought it was HUMAN tail. She couldn’t say she welcomed the attention, but she welcomed that distinction. And now her new friends suggested she apply to their guild. YES! she'd found a community that accepted her. They didn't know she was a catgirl. They didn't know she was a cape. They didn't have ulterior motives. They. Just. Liked. Her. She’d passed the interviews- narrowly- lost some points for only doing voice, not video. She passed the stat check and had already nailed the social. The only thing left was the Crucible of Bezelbahumessel raid trial. Pass this and she’s in. She’d been stressing more over this than any of the supergroup recruiting luncheons she’d been attending. This was a chance to make REAL FRIENDS that embraced her for who she really was and not people caught up on getting the token hot-tempered crittergirl with daddy issues that every supergroup seemed to need. The laptop was on the island, right beside the pile of mail. Aside from a stool, the island was really the only thing that qualified as furniture in the room. Her bed was a pile of blankets in one corner and her old “desk”- a cardboard appliance box she pulled from storage- had started to sag and cause issues with the mouse. She couldn’t risk that with the raid. 20 minutes before raid time. Downloading… "A goddamn patch!" She bit her lip. "Great. Just… ok, it’s moving fast enough. I’ll make it* She nervously fiddled around with the laptop, opening a browser, then closing it to conserve bandwidth, then checked her batteries. Then… now what… “Oh, the mail” Spam Spam Spam A new phone offer. Keep that one, just in case. Spam “What’s this?” A brown envelope addressed to “Tabby” No return address. No postage. "Weird" She plucked off one of the rubber caps she kept over her claws and sliced it open carefully. Out fell a picture and a folded piece of paper. Some asian dude. Vaguely familiar.. Probably mid 20’s. Obviously in distress. Duct tape over mouth. Why does he seem so fam… “OhmyGod, is that MegOtakuPrime? What the…” Download be damned, she opened a browser to NaughtyNeko- the stalkery misogynistic community site obsessed with all things catgirl, most things crittergirl, and a whole new branch called Tights with Ti.... point is, they don't discriminate in their discrimination. Tabby had run afoul of them more than once and now maintained several accounts there as a form of "opposition research." MegOtakuPrime had become one of the more prolific contributors to the Tabby fanfic section in just the past month. His “My Time with Tabby” series purported to be “autobiographical, based on real events” and backed the claim up with pics- sometimes graphic- that always sparked debates. They were obviously photoshop or deepfake or deepshop or whatevertheycallit and creeped her the heck out. She’d put his posts on “ignore” weeks ago. Now she pulled up his profile and scanned through his latest posts. One was a shirtless “selfie” of him with what was certainly meant to look like the top-back of her head strategically positioned at his beltline. She looked back at the photo. Same guy. Scrawnier. No chance he had a 6-pack IRL, but clearly the same guy. This can’t be real…. She unfolded the paper already anticipating what she’d find: magazine print cut out and paste into a message. Br1ng 20k T0n1T3 2 yur S3kr3t Pl@c3 0R W3 CH0P Y0ur B0yfr13nd UP … She was laughing too hard to continue reading. Her boyfriend. MegOtakuPrime *Someone thinks MegOtakuPrime is my boyfriend. Someone actually believes his shit.* She examined the note again. *Freakshow, too- only they would go through the trouble of leet-speaking in cut-out-magazine type. They’ve probably forgotten the real spelling.* “What frickin poetic justice" the laugh filled with exhileration- as if a tremendous weight had been lifted. 15 minutes to raid. 70% downloaded. Another laugh. This one mid-bite on the now-overmicrowaved chicken. *Way too salty, but this is just too good. Justice. Justice is served. I hope they…* *What?* *They what?* *What will they do to him?* She froze. 10 minutes. 90% downloaded. 9 minutes. 95% downloaded. *They…* The chicken bone was hanging from her mouth. “They could really hurt him,” she muttered aloud, slightly slurring due to the bone. *Maybe kill him.* She finally removed the chicken bone and shook her head, "No, get that out of your head Tabby. Raid time. Get ready for this. Focus on the game. Head in the game. Focus on the important" She stared at the screen. 8 minutes. 98% downloaded. *He’s just some misogynistic loser asshole that deserves what he gets…* *Does he?* *Does anybody?* *… I don’t owe him anything. * *Where am I gonna pull twenty thousand dollars from anyway?* "It’s obviously a trap." 5 minutes. Updating… MegOtakuPrime’s ransom pic caught her eye again. She locked on his eyes. The terror was so real. He’s just a scared kid. 2 minutes. She’d just make it. *Maybe if we’re quick I can cut out and have time afterward....*. A quick Google told her the average time to beat the Crucible of Bezelbahumessel. 4 hours. Time stopped. She held her breath. She could see the game loading in the background. One minute to spare. The guild leader was already messaging her. ... *I could tell them. * *I know they take this shit seriously- I've heard the stories about other applicants that weren't dedicated enough, but if they knew what's at stake, I... I'm sure they'd be fine with rescheduling. I'm sure of it* *I just have to tell them the truth* ... Team invite prompt popped up. .. She clicked the X and closed out. The screen switched to the browser, open to the fanfic site. She stared at the profile pic again. "Goddammit, MegOtakuPrime. "I hate you. "I really effing hate you. "And after you see what I do to those freaks that kidnapped you, you’re gonna be too damn scared to write anything about me. Ever. It’s bad enough that they ruined my chances with the guild. but they’re forcing me to read through all your frickin shitty fanfic to figure out where our “secret place* is supposed to be. "They're gonna pay for that.”

Well, sadly Tabby's hardest choice to date didn't get a chance to get resolved. Such is the nature of sometimes-disurpted campaigns Tabby's paid her dues in juvie but still owes a TON of community service, which I have her paying off working for the FBSA as a kind of "provisional hero"- she thinks the whole schtick is kinda ridiculous- she's no super- but it beats doing trash pickup on Skyway roads. During the Self Conceit community story arc, she encountered a telepathic Zig escapee, Psychlone. Tabitha never really considered herself very fortunate, but Psychlone's FBSA profile read as if it was her own, but every single place where fortune smiled on Tabby, it frowned on Psychlone. The system not only failed her, it abandoned her and left her to rot. Where Tabby got a chance and support to turn things around, Psychlone was manipulated and weaponized and then locked away, deemed to dangerous to be rehabilitated. It wasn't long before another less-heroic character, Ragamuffyn, completed the trio, and again, Tabby faced someone who'd seemed discarded by society and bound down Psychlone's path if the authorities were involved. The FBSA was going to be constantly pressuring Tabby to bring the two in and follow the law. She wouldn't. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She was the way she was becasue people gave her a chance. She was determined to dot he same for them. They could do some good and- if not be redeemed, at least be valued and given another chance by others. With some guidance and support step by step they'd turn this around. The FBSA knew she was associating with them- knew that she had opportunity to bring them in- may even suspect she aided them in their flight from the law. She risked her stellar record, losing all her bonus probation points, and -if things went bad enough- even losing her probationary status, but she was determined not to abandon them, even as both of them did things that terrified her or at least tore at her conscience. I didn't know where that was going to go or how it was going to end- there was little chance of true heroic redemption, but maybe the best scenario would have been the heroes save the day, the law closing in, and Tabby staying behind as Psychlone slips away. I imagined tropes like Long John Silver's escape in treasure island (Maybe she'd find solace from the constant mind-static surrounded by sea, even) Of course, that was almost as unlikely. Things could just as easily go the "hard lesson" approach of no matter what you do, some are still lost, leading to Tabby needing to "put down" the threat they become. Maybe she never gives up on them but becomes a fugitive with them, rebelliously sticking to the belief that sometimes true justice must oppose the law. Or maybe she burns bridges sticking with them, time and again, only to reach one line that she will not cross, ending up isolated and completely adrift. Maybe they'd draw a path that I could hardly imagine. Whichever way, it could have been a real charcter-transforming arc, but it never resolved.

Tabby lives in a perpetual state of tardiness*. Her regular routine is "sprinting to catch up" and anytime she feels like she's caught up, she naps. Even if she's not caught up, if she's in atlas park and its sunny and nobody's around to pester her atop the Atlas statue... why waste a good sunning moment? I mean, you're already hopelessly behind what's the harm of a quick nap. *Exceptions= if she's late for these, she's in serious trouble and a search party should probably be organized - donut days at city hall. - lunchroom fridge cleanup at the midnighters club, ("hmm... is this green stuff guacamole? nope, really old chicken salad. nope. maybe someone's eldrich experiment... tastes ok"). - any CATERED supergroup recruitment drive.

Chase Arcanum is inspired by... well... me... and a joke, but maybe that's redundan 😁. I had a friend that always played the nonhuman characters- the most non-human the better. He'd discovered City of Heroes and fallen for it, even though (particularly at lauch) most characters were relatively human. He knew that the fact that he'd fall for a game with that limitation would carry significant weight, so he stareted the conversation with, "You know how you always play characters that look like you?" That line was said in a game where my character was gyrating in a metal bikini mind-buffing his rodian. He got ridiculed for a good few hours. So, it only made sense that when I made my first chracter here, I'd make a bearded, pony-tailed former-army college professor wearing Khaki, a white shirt, and leather bomber jacket with a firstname relatively close to my own. The spellcrafting and mystic arts... well... as far as anyone knows, that's an embellishment. ----------------------------------------- Tabby- started as a GURPS supers NPC min/maxing project gone awry. Original concept was to make something that would be like a "savage lands tiger shaman" with notable physique, speed and magic, but as the broad range of points were spread out, it trade strength and size down, I started thinking less tiger-person shaman and more housecat with magic potential, but few spells. I decided if I was going to make a catgirl, she was going to be the most catlike but least catgirl-like, avoiding the typical sexy stereotypes while focusing on the most catlike (as portrayed by my own cats)- constantly napping, seeking food, and extremely fickle in attitude. Weirdly, players joked that these traits made her more sexy in a "girl next door" trope than the sexy stereorypes would have been for them. When it came to recreating her online, I was reluctant, as I'd already learned a lot of how out of control the "sex kitten" catgirl trope had gotten and wasn't interested in contributing to it. I felt a little uncomfortable about being mistaken for that, but a friend chided me with, "if it makes YOU uncomfortable, imagine how it makes HER feel" and pretty much created the whole self-conscious neurosis that Tabby became famous for that day. My friends, being asshats great creative minds, gleefully took every opportunity to making situations that Tabby would awkwardly stumble through, largely defining the entire online catgirl-lover-fanbase that torments Tabby to this day. ------------------------------------------