chase

I've always liked this concept, but I've never seen is summed up so nicely as "The Mandela Effect is a real thing.", so I do hope you don't mind me stealing it.

Thanks, In this context, I'd met a few other players who were RP'ing freshmen at the university. They were chance encounters, but we remembered one another. In my absence, they'd both moved on to their next year, and there was interest (not pressure) to "catch up" my character story to meet them. Since I'd had absolutely no chance to play out that character since our last meet, I'd have preferred kinda retconning my character to an underclassman of theirs, but went along with it with some fast improvisation. If this is a common practice, I'd prep with a bit more forethought for the alts I've RP'd.

How do you handle time differentials between characters whose players have different schedules? Take, for example, a supergroup where some people appear 2-3 times a week, some only 2-3 times a month. I tend to take the "timey wimey wibbly-wobbly" approach of "don't think too hard about it, just nudge or keep vague any perceived difference in the progression of time to let everyones' user story flow" but I've also encountered some that tie the progression of time and seasons with the real-world, such that if you've been offline for a few weeks, you should be thinking about the experiences of that character had "while you were offline." I can see that need when an SG is going through a common story that may have advanced in your absence, but I've encountered it among other players through more general encounters with my characters after a nearly-year absence. Was curious what the general preference might be.

I've seen that topic come up as a point of contention among different groups. I'm a big fan of "creating scenes" (and experiencing them). Any MMO's a rather dead place, no matter how animated the NPC's may be, but roleplayers can bring variety and sponinaety and new experiences to a world that isn't otherwise changing much. Public local interactions add so much flavor, so I do prefer them over private chat, but know they can cause problems for others.

Honestly, that kind of edgelord interaction that I LIKE. (1st degree was criminology/prelaw with a focus on deviant psychology* before I went into the comp sci field). THAT would be an interesting take and engaging for a me as a player, even if my characters aren't taking that dark path themselves. It creates some fascinating interpersonal moments. The fatigue sets in when it it becomes clear that the PLAYER behind the character is ...maybe a bit too much of a method actor? ( *I don't necessarily play edgelords, but there's a reason why so many of my characters have been shaped by encounters in juvenile justice, really messed up home lives, or places where the justice system's "rough edges" left pretty sizable scars. Maybe I don't go full 'edge' with them because I'm hoping that there's a way back from the trauma that I've seen inflicted in those folks and I manifest that hope via RP. )

Dark and edgy by itself I wouldn't necessarily call "edgelord"- just like I wouldn't consider every strong female character a 'mary sue' (for the record, I hate that term). the names, to me, convey things taken to an (often harmful) extreme. Take a gent that was a latent telepath/empath/pain dom type. His powers were discovered after a terrorist attack that left him badly burned and scarred. He was left in a constant state of pain from his injuries and as he recovered in the hospital, he realized that he subconsciously broadcast that pain to patients nearby. It pained him to hurt others, so he worked hard trying to hold that agony back into himself (or channeled out on those deserving). He's learned that he's only partially successful- that other peoples' own empathic bond to him allows the suffering to link through, so he's put up more walls, acts more nihlistic, more unapproachable... driving people away. Slowly going mad, desperately wanting a connection with another human being, only to destroy any that comes for fear of harming them. Now, roleplaying a damaged soul like that may be an interesting challenge for some. I work with tragic fine, but not full despair. Encountering such a person would be interesting for me story-wise-- it has a twist of being a true empathic person that's behaving this way to protect others from their own bond to them, while desperately hoping for such a bond to relieve the pain he's under. It could be a welcome encounter. Roleplaying a RELATIONSHIP WITH such a character, however, could be borderline emotional abuse without a great deal of OOC coordination. if the person behind the scenes is equally edgelord, then there's no hope.

I wish to apply for your next D&D campaign and am willing to commute large distances to make that happen. 😄 My favorite part of the original Ravenloft was the tongue-in-cheek tombstones scattered throughout the cemetery, so I find such an approach very much aligned with the original developers' intent. ("here lies Admiral von [ITotallyForget]. Confused though he was, he built the greatest navy ever fielded by a landlocked country.")

"Edgelords" as a term are a relatively new term for me, and I'd just been following the definition I looked up, so I may not be fully understanding its use in the RP community. An edgelord is someone on an internet forum who deliberately talks about controversial, offensive, taboo, or nihilistic subjects in order to shock other users in an effort to appear cool, or edgy. Although dark, dark, darkity dark is certainly the dominant visual cue, I never considered it a requirement. (in fact, I challenge the magnificent character imaginators in this game to make the edgiest rainbow edgelord possible! Any correctly-played Clown Edgelord that predates this post gets my official nod of respect. Mime-edgelord: make it happen. Catgirl edgelords- come on, in the infinite number of catgirls online, statistics say they have to exist. keep them away from me. No challenge there. Costume contest for the edgiest edglordiest puns incoming.) In all seriousness, engaging an edgelord character can be a welcome contrast and to characters seeking more harmonious relationship-building but that constant "edginess for attention-grabbing" can be fatiguing to engage with for a long time. That's especially true when it's an "edgelord player controlling an edgelord character" because there's no chance for OOC relief. At least when a non-edgelorder is trying on the persona (or parodying it) they're open to input in OOC to keep the play enjoyable for everyone. A PLAYER with an edgelord personality just justifying his character's edgelordiness... that person just revels in the controversy OOC and IC. I have no time for that and quickly /ignore them into irrelevance.

As a male that plays a lot of female characters, text chat's been my experience too. As someone who also used to play with a community of deaf players, I kinda have a bias against voice from there. Early in MMO lives, deaf players felt uniquely enabled by online games' text chat, and I watched them go through a great deal of anxiety when guilds moved to TeamSpeak or Ventrilo or other early services. Many of them played up to that point without ever being "outed" as having a hearing impairment and they reveled in not needing any special treatment. The advent of online voice chat really shook many of them, and I kinda inherited that aversion by proxy. That said, I have joinedvoice chat in a few RP communities. It was... odd. Perhaps it was because many of us DID have voices that different from appearance/species in game, but we rarely spoke in-character. It tended to replace tells and OOC text (unless we were privately conspiring against another player), and if there was any guildie present in the channel but not in the game area, they could ask those people to send tells to different people if they were too busy typing dialigue to respond rapidly. It was a place to get quick answers, ("'what's the emote for x again?") not serious RP. I'm sure there are RP groups with more capable voice actors trying to speak all IC, but I (thankfully) haven't found em.

Yep. Strangely, although the club scene isn't for me at all, base building is something I love, so I'd love showing support for those people making their own nightclubs and events. When time permits (it often doesn't) I try to show just to see the production they put together and show some support. It's an incredible undertaking to host such things and while I don't fit the social setting, I'm often in awe of what the hosts accomplish.

There's a good deal of consumer protection law that makes these kinds of policies difficult to publicize without risking suit (not about the ban, but about the intentional infliction of harm by publicizing the private action. The GW2 issue you mention was possible because the player himself volunteered that they were under disciplinary action but gave a false narrative for the reason. That (false) voluntary discolsure of facts gave GW2 reasonable justification to correct the public record. Had GW2 posted what they did publicly at the start, they could have fun afoul of those protections (COULD HAVE- they may not lose such a suit, but they'd certainly have to pay lawyers to argue it). I don't play Siege, but its approach has been to use the term "ban" widely ( I'm told that the common "ban" is said to be "temporary ban" for consecutive reverse friendly fire incidents) and make every one public through the message text (not the details of the ban, just whether someone has been banned). Their argument, should anyone try to sue, is to equate the ban as integral to the core mechanic of the game, ranking, and pairing system, equitable to suspensions/penalties applied in major sports. In general, though, most businesses still do treat bans as administrative action between the business and the consumer- even if the consumer's actions affected other consumers- and don't make public the results of that interaction, so I can understand taking that policy to heart, even though I'd love for a spotlight to be put on some of that bad behavior.

Frustrating, but I do remind myself that It can be anxious for the Don Giovanni's too. I'm OOC friendly and avoid Tabby's more natural brusqueness. Getting shot down, even in character, isn't fun and can lead to some to take offense, no matter how gently you approach it, and that unexpected jolt can lead to... well... people being assholes. <Venting> Apparently "no ERP" in a catgirl's bio is just meant to be a joke. The stories of the "social activities" of feliform females extends across so many genres that it must be a universal constant. If you're at all concerned about your prospects to hook up and you see a catgirl in the room... you're now just concerned whether there will be a line. Getting turned down by a girl with critter ears and a tail isn't possible in their worldview. I've had people wonder why I bothered rolling her up if I wasn't into RP nookie. Or accuse me of baiting them on (purely by playing a catgirl?) just to humiliate them. </Venting> (inhale) (exhale) and- to be clear- that's just from a polite decline and a friendly OOC follow-up. Social anxiety can run that high. If I was being true to character- or at least her character history, that anxiety could really hit a breaking point. Strangely, I made Tabby aware of (and repulsed by) the "public perception of catgirls" in part due to my own anxiety. I couldn't bring myself to roleplay her due to the stigma attached to felinoids. A friend challenged me with, "if it bothers YOU, imagine how SHE feels." and I gave it a shot. Of course, since I shared my anxiety with my friends, I knew they'd be sure to steer clear of things I'd find uncomfortable and play nice and.... absolutely not. (I'm a terrible judge of character :P) They made a game about creating awkward situations for me/her and I'd retaliate in the dumbest way possible- by twisting it into some kind of cringeworthy rom-com failure. This only encouraged escalation- a kind of nuclear proliferation until you've reached rom-com awkwarness that even Ben Stiller would walk away from. That's all fine and dandy among friends, but with the anxiety encountered just mustering up an RP approach, it could be absolutely destructive. It's one thing to laugh at a cringeworthy rom-com moment you're watching; it's another to unexpectedly find yourself part of one. Heck, a terrible pick-up line might really REALLY deserve to be called out IC-ly, but I can't even bring myself to risk upsetting someone, no matter how much I feel Tabby would critique it. (( Besides, they're using that line on a catgirl, so how hard do they have to try, right? :"Wait. 'I'm a pony. Ride me. ' THAT's what you're going with. You flag me down all the way from redside D just to say that? Seriously? And how, exactly did you imagine that going down? How did you... no... nevermind, just... go.... ... go... see that catgirl? No, the one by the carnie. The other carnie. Closest to the carnie. Maybe try her. *watches him leave* ..... Hot damn. It worked? Seriously? Goddamn, I need to find a way out of this body. I can't even... HEY! GET A ROOM YOU TW... THREE..")) (That, and I'm rusty and jaded in my old age. It's hard to come up with new material. Everything's just a retread of a long-past gem, and you can't recapture the old magic. Kinda like rom-com's nowadays.)

The discord link, too, is a great place. It's an active place with people well versed in the lore, RP styles, and such. You'll have the neurotics at every extreme of the RP spectrum there, but generally you have people that want you to enjoy your experience and are more than willing to be patient as you "find your groove. ( https://discord.gg/KPnj4ZURuc ) There's also a RP and an OOC chat channel that- although quite silent lately- does tend to have people on it. Posting a greeting in OOC and stating your interest will occasionally spark some great encounters. I use the RP channel itself less- it's envisioned as an in-character... kinda a joint cross-dimension hero/villain tech-or-magic CB chatter channel.

This one hasn't been "performed" yet. Inspired by a community story arc that had all magic/incarnate characters falling ill, I'd planned on it, but had to leave the game due to RL priorities. I'd planned to have side-comments of people mentioning her "condition" litter the arc as a bit of comic relief. “Hello? No, I’m… fine, thanks.” “Yes.” “No new developments to report. Why? “How the hell am I trending now?” “Ok, I’ll look. Give me a sec.” /em text /em smartphone The only recent Tabby Tracker upload is me throwing up in Atlas. Don’t know what the big deal is. God knows there’s plenty worse shots of me to pick from. Comments? 15 pages? That’s an effing lot for hairball jokes- even for this crowd. /em text /em smartphone Man, my connection’s slow. Can you just give me the readers’ digest summary? I’ve seen some freaky fetishes on that site, but puking is just gross. I just got too close to a really putrid Vahz corpse and it got to me. How is that today’s most interesting topic? /em text /em smartphone Wait, I’M PREGNANT? (afraid) “Man, that echoed. Hope nobody heard that.” “I… I’m totally not pregnant. No question there.” “Honest” “I’m sure. Look, Catgirls are known for a lot of things, but parthenogenesis ain’t one of them. Yes. Really. REALLY. (frustrated) I would think I’d be the authority on that subject, not the Internet. /em smartphone Why is that so hard to believe? Whoever suggested that this was morning sickness was just…. Why? Who’d even believe that? /em text (mumbles while reading)… About time?… no surprise… been eating like she’s feeding a full litter…” /em smartphone Let’s not make this call about that. If it's not labeled in the lunchroom, it’s fair game. Those are rules. Crey should know that. Doesn’t matter that I don’t work there. Rules are rules. /em text “… and this guy- I’VE BEEN IN HEAT SINCE I SHOWED UP IN PARAGON CITY? (crack knuckles) Well, I think it's time to meet Mr… NoPantsInParagon in a dark alley and teach him something about being in hea… I mean, and beat hi… or… F**k. /em smartphone You know that’s not what I meant. I just gotta. (wounded) /em smartphone Tell me someone stopped that madness. There’s got to be someone sane on the internet. /em text Nope. Page six. Pregnancy talk. Page 7… speculation on the father. Seriously? “Quickie with Synapse” God, that’s original. “nope. Nope. Not a chance.” /em smartphone Who? She… she’s a GIRL! That’s just… I think someone flunked sex ed. Well, my school was just ‘Wait till you’re married’ so, I guess I can’t criticize much. I had to get all my questions answered through crappy cybernanny software.”’ /em text … did the deed with Gaussian with 20 Vanguard soldiers watching? “I’m not going to be able to look Gaussian in the eye after that fanart.” “No, it’s a figure of speech, I’m very well aware that at my height, it’s not his EYES that are at my level. Thanks for reminding me.” /em text … did the deed with 20 Vanguard soldiers with Gaussian watching? “Now we’re just getting silly. Not that this whole thing isn’t ridiculous. /em smartphone Ok, so 7 pages of that, and now they’ve switched to a betting pool on when I’ll get mom-boobs. /em text ...And looks like 4 pages of boob talk. I’m going to have to burn this phone, I think. /em smartphone Issue a statement? Publicist? You know my budget! Unless the *publicist* is one of those crazies shouting from a soapbox with a TV on their head that’ll take payment in free food, he’s outta my price range. Even then, I probably couldn’t spare the sandwich. I’ve had ramien like… thirteen days in a row. Breakfast too. Use coffee instead of water for some extra kick. No, forget it. Its a backwater corner of the net that’s only frequented by pervs and asses. Who’s really gonna notice? Just keep quiet and it’ll go away, right? Who could possibly care, anyway? Ok, later.

Sorry to necro here. Have had very little time to play, but did have time to salvage the bugs out of another Tabby phone call. Figured keeping it in one thread was better than starting another. Tabby will never fully work off her community service debt if she keeps failing to have a hero certify her patrol times: /em smartphone Hello, Valkyre? It's Tabith... yeah... Tabby. I was wondering if you could sign my FBSA community service report for the week? I know my beat's Brickstown now, but Swan... I mean- you know... she... she's great but... Look, at my height I'm basically looking up through her cleavage to make eye contact, and in that getup... /em hides her face in frustration /em facepalm /em smartphone Yes, I realize that I wear even less than that... barely... but thanks for reminding me. No, It's not THAT. I don't swing that way- not that there's anything wrong with that... /em doublefacepalm /em Mutters something incomprehensible in her hand. /em smartphone Trust me, I know what they say about catgirls' proclivities. It does not apply here. Look, I'm just the walking embodiment of practically every body image issue there is, ok? When compared to her... ...looking as ridiculous as I do... next to her... It's kinda intimidating... hypnotizing... terrifying to be honest. It's me. OK? That's all. She's not doing anything wrong. It's just really,.. awkward. I would just feel better with someone less... I dunno.. . ...perfect. /em wounded /em realizes her mistake the moment she says it. /em smartphone Not that you're not perfect. That's not what I was saying- you're very attractive... and when I did the Steel Canyon beat, you were always approachable and helpful... ...No, I'm not hitting on you either. like I said, doesn't apply here. /em doublefacepalm /em whispers kill me now to nobody in particular. /em smartphone No, I'm not just in the closet. I know what they say about catgirls, but maybe some Catgirls can show restraint? No, not like Mynx, well, maybe like Mynx... *whaddayamean like Mynx?* /em grief NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT LIKE MYNX. /em smartphone I said Restraint. Singular. Not... nevermind. I'll go talk to Luminary. Really? Positron's made her as a WEDDING gift to the original Luminary? Man, and I thought my backstory sucked. I appreciate it, but seriously, it's not an issue. I'm fine. I just need my community service card signed. That's it. No. Don't talk to her... You don't need to bring this up at tomorrow's Vindicator meeting. Nothing needs clarified. You guys don't need to change anything. It's fine. It's just me. ... I appreciate it, but I don't think a "girls' night out" to break the tension is necessary. or a good idea. I've heard of Pocket D. Not for me. I know catgirls go to Pocket D, too. I've googled it. No results? Turn off safesearch. Yeah. See! That's why I'm staying away. Seriously. Gotta go. Oh- re-enable safesearch before you forget! Bye. /em wounded She's so going to tell the other Vindicators. I know it. /em might consider a life of villainy rather than face any Vindicator ever again.

I like the idea for this. If RL didn't have me only logging in once a month or so, I'd be directly participating.

Back when I had time, I did a whole comic. Even planned to re-do it right before the game closed, once I learned so much more from photoshop filters, formatted for online media.

or Tempest was busy. Managing an RP group is harder than herding cat(girl)s

Of course, I just got my VirtueVerse account so I could post my characters there after seeing your character's bios in VirtueVerse, Archiviste. I'd just been tossing stuff up on an unused site I had before. I guess it would be better/easier to find active 'verse'er in homecoming. Tagging only gets you so far. Would it need to be its own separate entity? Introducing a wholly-new community site always requires sufficient "critical mass" to keep participation and engagement going, so some degree of partnering or promotion could help reach that threshold...

St Martial Candi, Misosazai, and Saki A few days later, hours before the 4th Hero extraction Candi pounded on the door, shouting, "Open up already. We brought breakfast and booze!" Saki laughed beside her "For some of us, that's one and the same! Open up! Let's see that shiner I'd been hearing about!" Saki- aka Sakura Kobayashi- was the one of Isabel's talents. Smaller, fairer-featured, and a hint or two lighter-complexion than Misosazai, she could still be mistaken for her younger sister. Remarkable given she was more than a decade older than Misosazai. Today, though she was barking out commands in a way that transformed her into an older, wiser, and more beliggerent dragon mom. "It's afternoon." Misosazai corrected while opening the door to peek out. She was in the bathrobe, hair still wet from the shower. A green-and-purple bruise dominated the left side of her face. If the girls hadn't been with her the day before with a totally unmarked face, they'd both have sworn that the bruise was a week old- well on its way to healing. Saki grabbed hold of Misosazai's chin and practically dragged her to the bathroom mirror. "I thought you were bs'ing me about it, but you've been meditating, right? That's Kuj-in Sha working its magic. Maybe another day? Two? and this will be gone, instead of weeks. Incredible. " She then shifted in tone from wonder to reprimand, "What were you doing, using that face to stop a kick? Girl, that's a million-dollar smile, if you ever smiled. Stop trying to ruin it!" Candi was left hauling both the food cart and their "triage kit" (full off the 3 m's- medication, make-up, and mind-numbing booze) into the rooom. "You were out till 4am. You're working our shift now. Afternoon is breakfast!" The room was better than her last visit. The bed seemed slept in. No more blankets in the closet. The black leather bodysuit now slumped propped up in the corner, stuffed stiff with bath towels and blankets in the futile hope that it would stretch out, kinda like a kinky headless scarecrow. Miso and Saki remained in the bathroom, ignoring her. Saki was doing most of the talking, "So many try the meditations and get nothing- y'know. My baa-baa used to say that if they worked it meant you had oni or yokai in your bloodline somewhere. Oh, so many questions." Candi called out, "Stop talking and start applying concealer. She's got another op in a few hours. Gotta look the part." "Bass Crouper, again?" Misosazai called out from the bathroom. "Nope. One of yours. Someone found another cape!" Both went silent. Candi started pouring drinks. "Now get out here. Food's cold, and I'm not waiting." Misosazai was already there. The news that of another hero rescue op was all it took, "What do we have?" Candi gestured to the food platter- a generous selection from the now-closed breakfast buffet, barely warm. The scrambled eggs were gummy by now, but still edible. "No. Intel." Misosazai corrected. "That's right- no intel. Here's the dossier." Candi gestured with her imaginary tablet. "Let's see, you show up at the location they'll wire you 30 min before the meet. You do what they they tell you. You ask no questions. You save the hero. You come home." "Man, I've been on that exact same assignment. Well, minus the 'save the hero' part." Saki chuckled, helping herself to a strawberry and a mimosa before even taking a seat. Both new girls helped themselves to the food they pruportedly brought for Misosazai, but they both stopped abruptly when Misosazai winced sharply as she tried to squeeze into her own seat. "You're hurt. Where?" "It's nothing, maybe a bruised rib. Been like that for a while." "Let's see it." "It's nothing." Candi piped in, "Saki's our resident bonesaw. She's got special forces medical training." Saki corrected her, "That sounds better than it is. One of my regulars was an 18D- a Special Forces Medical Sergeant. when he learned I was pre-med, he showed me some things." "That's what 18D means? I though that was just code for his preferences- lookin barely legal and big up front." Candi quipped. Saki flicked the remains of her strawberry at Candi, then turned full dragon-mom on Misosazai, "If you're moving like this now, how are you going to fight? Let me see it." Misosazai just drew the bathrobe tighter. "I'll pop some pills before I head out." "STRIP!" It could've been the dragon-mom attitude or that Miso was more concerned about the injury than she was letting on, but Candi took this as a victory that they were earning the girl's trust. She didn't ask anyone to turn around this time or keep objecting. She just disrobed and positioned herself so they had a full view of her left side and back. The bruising was obviously bad to even the untrained Candi, but she was grateful for Saki's more detailed analysis. "..concentric rings radiating out, drifting down with gravity. focal point suggests the 10th rib. Each at a different stage of healing. Looks like it's cut surrounding tissue at least 8 different times. You got about a half inch of swelling- maybe a pus pocket- between pieces. That's probably why you couldn't get the bones to knit. They aren't close enough." She traced the rib path around to Miso's front, triggering an uncomfortable flinch. "Your tenth rib's floating. No cartilage in front. Not uncommon in us Japanese. Means there's nothing stiff holding that broken piece in place now. It just moves with every hit you take, slashing your insides. Lacerate the spleen and it could kill you." Candi let out a giggle, causing both of them to stop and stare at her, "What? I thought you were making a funny. Y'know 'ow, my spleen!" Is that a real thing? I thought somebody just made that up." The silence and mutual stares just continued, until Saki broke silence, "Miso, meet a product of Etoile Islands public schools." "I didn't even know they had public schools." Misosazai teased, sampling a mimosa herself before the others drank them all. "So, What are our options?" Candi switched topics. "Well, Miso, you drink much?" She rapidly returned the beverage as if she'd been caught, shaking her head no. "Well, you can start today. Somewhere between can't stand and borderline poisoning. We'll adjust from there. You need to be numbed. It's going to hurt like hell, but I need to get the two parts closer together if your biofeedback magic is going to do the rest." "No. not today." Candi interjected. "This op is a done deal. Maybe a few shots now, but she's gotta be sober in 4 or 5 hours." Saki continued poking around the injury, reading Misosazai's face for a pain response. "No way you're doing that op. Not like this. Not if you take body shots like your face took last night. Russian Roulette would be safer." "Can you do it with her sober?" Saki was finishing off her mimosa- her second one, counting the one she had downstairs, possibly more before Candi got there. "Maybe a pro could- maybe Facemaker, but I need her muscles relaxed and her reflexes slowed if I'm going to have even a chance at this. Even if she's not shouting out in pain, she will tense." She changed tone and gave Candi a playful wink, "Also, watch your phrasing, please. You know I can't pass up lines like that." The last part went right over Misosazai's head, as she focused on the first part. "Facemaker?" "Resident expert in elective or discreet surgery. Doesn't come cheap, even for baseline stuff. Probably would charge a couple grand for.." "Ten, at least, but I'd have to check with Isabel." Candi cut her off with an angry glare. She'd pressed all the girls to lay off any money talk so they don't ruin any opportunity for additional markup. This wasn't helping. "Facemaker's... uh... got a side in fashion, so we sometimes get different rates than mercs would." "She wears Tina's stuff" Saki said, clearly not getting it. "She wears Tina's stuff differently!" "Well yeah, with the pants..." Saki reached absently for another mimosa, but Candi blocked her. "No, I mean as a merc. We wear Facemaker's stuff as eyecandy- kinda walking billboards. Mercs don't.. but yeah... Miso- you really should lose the pants. Like, whenever you can. I mean, the look's cute, but those legs are killer. Show off your moneymakers." "The rest's real good moneymaking material too," Saki said, pointing a twirling finger at Miso in one hand as she sipped from another... where did she get THAT one from? The comment prompted Misosazai to quickly recover the bathrobe and cinch it tight, but the other girls hardly noticed as they playfully bantered. "Well, yeah, that's a given, but wearing body armor takes priority over flashing those assets." "Silver Mantis proves you can do both." The exchange went on for a few minutes, name-dropping various heroines and villains, their costumes, and their effectiveness, and whether they could do better with more or less (usually less) flesh covering. At one point, Candi pulled out her smartphone to find examples of fanart that was far better than the actual costumes, while Saki relied on shouting her retorts back. Finally Misosazai brought them back to topic, calmly stating, "The pants stay. My fighting style's all kicks. Even if my legs aren't all bruised up, I'm not flashing my panties at everyone trying to kill me." "My favorite moneymaker! Oh- Facemaker has a whole line of lingere, maybe if you were modeling that you'd get a discou.."Saki piped out before giving a late-but-knowing look to Candi," ... I mean, it's a really exclusive and expensive line but so worth it." Miso had turned to fish something from between the mattresses to catch the eye exchange. She brought out a tiny electronic device the size of a watch. "Could this help?" Saki recognized it immediately. "A medical transporter! Girl, whatever you do, don't activate that. If you're lucky, it'll send you straight to an Arachnos prison cell. If you're not, it'll take you to one of the isle's best worst medical facilities." "Yeah, the only time instruments in those places get sterilized is when a worker spills their booze on them. Where did you get that, anyway? You said you weren't a registered hero." Misosazai shrugged "Some catgirl gave me hers- told me not to use it, except in emergency. She wasn't sure if it'd just work or if it'd catgirl-ify me or something." "I don't think it would, but maybe that's how they recover so fast- keeping a healthy-state scan in memory or something. Even then, though- that would be held at the hospital, not the transponder, so you're probably safe. I still wouldn't use unless I was at deaths' door. Not unless you wanted extended 1 on 1 time with an arachnos interrogator- and I don't recommend that. We had one as a client a few years back and he never seemed to be able to separate work and play." Saki had put down her drink, then started waving with both hands, as if she had a revelation, "Hey Candi- imagine- if the transponder DID catgirl-ify you- and if you could reverse it- that'd be a great prop for neko nights, eh?" Misosazai raised an eyebrow, "Do I want to know?" "It's kinda a semi-annual thing. Easiest money I ever had. Cruise ships full of salarymen come in for conventions. The girls show up wearing cat ears, hotpants with tails attached, paw mittens & stocking and just act ridiculous. You're sweeping money off the floor by the end of the night." Saki made a grand gesture with her arms raking in the dough. "Forget acting ridiculous. Miso, you could just stand there and do the 'go away' glare you do to all the guys downstairs, and you'd proably still clear a grand an hour. Hell, I was paid $500 just to eat sushi wearing ears, a tail, and nothing else." Candi interjected. "How'd the tail stay on?" Saki laughed. "Huh?" "If you weren't wearing anything else. How'd the tail stay on?" "Uncomfortably." The trio laughed, but Misosazai's deep blush sparked a second round of jeers from Saki and Candi. "Ccostume-glue silly! Same as pasties. Where was your mind?" Misosazi tried to defend herself, but they just kept teasing her. "Miso, love, relax. We know. Makes me wonder what websites our innocent one is visiting at that open hotspot you frequent." Saki grabbed Misosazi's phone from the charger and tossed it to Candi, continuing the tease. "You're too young for those sites. Do we need to enable parent controls, Candi?" "Lemme see." Candi giggled, as she quickly opened the mail and downloaded the program she'd sent while looking up the costumes earlier. Looks like Saki's shouting had been unnecessary. Notifications were off. The program installed without a hitch just as the tech had said. Tracking and mirroring was now enabled. "Nope, nothing in history. She's either clearing the cache well or our girl's just a natural perv." She tossed the phone back to Misosazai, who was desperately trying to change the subject. "Back to tonight's op. I'm doing it. I've been dealing with this for weeks. It can last another day. After that we'll discuss whether I get good n drunk with Saki..." "My favorite plan!" Saki shouted in celebration. "... or whether we see the facemaker, I guess. " "Probably the smarter plan, but not nearly as fun!" Saki confirmed, sagely. "Candi, do you think Isabel would front me the money in exchange for more merc work?" Candi smiled. According to Isabel, they were already far ahead on this. Getting M "owing" them farther was just a double-win. "I don't think she'll have a problem with that, but I'll find out. I take it that's our cue to leave? You probably need to meditate again tonight." "Actually, there's only so much Kuj-in Sha I can take before my mind starts going places I don't want to go. if you don't mind sticking around- there's plenty of food for everyone and I could use some help afterward getting into that leather monstrosity." Saki sat back down to the food and waved Candi off. "I got this. Go. I can still apply some anti-inflammatories and other stuff to numb her up, too. Maybe other stuff, too. Just send up lunch when it's ready." Candi really needed to get back to the tech and confirm the stealth install was working. She'd been worried about leaving Saki inside- she seemed far too friendly with Miso and far too drunk for that to end well, but the wink she gave on that last line let her know Saki was still firmly in her camp and planning ahead. If there was anything wrong with the phone hack, she'd be in place to give it another try, and the message could be sent via room service. As she closed the door, she called out, "If by numb, you mean booze, keep it light ok? And Miso, keep an eye on Saki. Don't let her get too bombed. She's got work tonight too."

“Ouro portal open near Sunstorm!” Mobius Stripper shouted, as another piece of the heroine’s costume blinked away. It was a constant cycle- more and more of her brown skintight-practically-painted-on-tights disappeared and revealed the tan skin underneath until just as she reached the point where an arrest would be warranted, it flipped. Suddenly she was in a flesh-tan suit, blinking away to display her dark brown skin underneath. It was the most annoying side effect of her time-manipulation powers, but the inevitable catcalls did make beating up the badguys so much more gratifying. A tiny catgirl scampered up- grey, furry all over, wearing even less than she did, eyes the size of saucers and her whiskers curled forward in fascination. “Oooh! Shiny. Is it gold?” As she reached out to touch, a familiar voice shouted, “Free donuts in City Hall! Get em before Azuria loses them!” It was odd- not just because Mo knew donut day always fell on a Thursday, but because the voice came from the direction opposite of City Hall. It didn’t matter to the catgirl, though, who darted to City hall with a barely- understandable “BRB.” Almost as soon as the catgirl disappeared into City Hall, she reappeared from the direction of the voice. No wonder it sounded familiar. “Heyas. Close’un. Name’s Tabby. You’re Mobius Stripper, I know. Lazarus sent me. What the heck are you doing? Mo was feeling more than a little confused. “It’s called Entrusted with the Secret not ‘Share the secret with everyone on the street. ‘ Why don’t you just grab the news crew while you’re at it? Broadcast it to the world!” “The more heroes that know about this, the more prepared we’ll be for the coming storm!” “Coming storm, my ass. Forget the coming storm- you almost gave Ouroboros access to a CATGIRL! That’s, like ten thousand times more disastrous, according to Mender Lazarus.” “But that… was you?” “Yeah, you’re getting it! See, I eventually get in and they were all ‘oh No! what do we do’ but then I offered to go back and stop myself, and they were all, like ‘that’d be awesome!’ but then I barely finished when someone ELSE put out a portal and let me in. I’ve been stopping me ever since. I’m damn good at it too- this makes 57, so get outta here already and don’t ruin the streak. I remember I was grumpy when there were no donuts, so you don’t wanna be around when I get back anyway.” “But I’m still not sure how this is worse than…” “CATGIRLS! OUROBOROS! What’s not to get? Think of Mender Derek’s screwup, now imagine he’s a she, with cat ears and a tail. Now take it all the way to ten thousand!” “Ok, that sounds bad. In my defense, nobody ever told me not to recruit catgirls.” The catgirl seemed to be getting impatient, “Think hard. Think REALLY HARD. Is there ever a time where adding catgirls IMPROVED a situation? Ever? I AM one, and I can tell you that my life’s been worse ever since I became one. Come on! The timestream continuum’s on the line! Just get outta here and be careful who you share this thing with in the future, please!" Mo took the advice to heart, and was about to leap, when the catgirl flagged her. “Oh! Wait! I got a message from Mender Ramiel for you, too. It says ‘Keep Tabby away from the Well of… well, I think he meant Furries there. Someone has to explain autocorrect to the guy.’” The catgirl blinked, contemplated for a moment, then said, “That shouldn’t be hard. I hate water and can’t stand furries. I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. Problem solved! Now GO!” Mo didn’t hesitate and she MADE SURE the portal closed behind her. ------------------------ As she re-emerged in the Mender vessel, she saw an old friend sitting by the reflecting pool. “Mender Lazarus! I just had the most surreal experience.” “Ah, you met Tabby, then? “Um… yeah… I had no clue that catgirls were such a hazard.” “They aren’t. We were just trying out a new initiation process. We figured she’d catch on after 3 or 4 of these. What was she up to when you found her?” “57” “Ah, so still early. She started suspecting something in the two-twenties, then got really grumpy in the 300’s. In retrospect, we should’ve intervened before 500, but it was such a nice, even number.” “She did this 500 times?” “501. She got real efficient at the end, so we kinda missed catching her.” “Ok, so this was all some warped initiation joke?” He nodded. “And Ramiel’s 'Well of Furies?' reference, too?” “Oh, no, we’re dead serious there- an incarnate catgirl, can you imagine?”

St Martial Candy and Misosazai A Few Days Later Candy shifted her weight outside as she listened to the deadbolt slide and the safety chain come off. It still didn't open. Then came the sound of moving furniture. “What’d you do, barricade the door, too? Paranoid much?” The door finally opened. Cleaned up and in the hotel’s complimentary fuzzy bathrobe, the carnie tramp didn’t look much like either now. “Hey, lookatthat. You clean up nice,” she said, muscling herself into the room. “I brought over some of Tina’s old stuff for you to pick through- should be mostly your size. I know Issy said she’d have stuff sent over, but she’s been distracted by a special group of clients, so I figured I’d step in and… let me hang this stuff up and we’ll take a look… hey, are you sleeping in the CLOSET?” One of the hotel downy comforters was folded into a makeshift mattress with a pillow at one end. Misosazai’s face flushed slightly, “I know it’s paranoia, but… just in case someone came in while I slept… I figured I could get the jump on them.” “Girl, you need to learn to relax. There’s smart paranoia, then there’s crazy paranoia, and I’m no expert in your line of work, but I think you’re on the straightjacket side right now.” “Speaking of straightjackets…” The stripped mattress was covered in towels, and on top of them was a wet leather bodysuit laid out all spread-eagle. All the room’s moveable lamps were positioned down on it. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the catsuit type. Careful with drying that. Wet leather shrinks with heat.” “I know. It already did. In my last… op… I ended up on an island in Nerva with no boat or bridge. Had to swim. Stood under a hand dryer at the ferry landing for like an hour. Damn thing got tight- like impossible-to-move tight. For the last half I had to unzip it down to the navel just to breathe.” Candy giggled. “Damn, that’d have been a sight.” She managed to draw a blush and a shy smile from the girl and a halfhearted laugh. It really had been a sight, too, but Misosazai was wrong- it was precariously below the navel in the shots Candy had seen. Casino security was being generous with them. Other cameras that even hotel security couldn’t access had already let her know the state of the room before she entered, too, but she had to keep up the ruse. “Well, next time you plan to wear that, you’re going to need to start real early - like days. Leather will stretch back—over time, but it’ll be a bitch to wear till then. Might also want to powder up to slide in and out more easily. You’re gonna look like you’re doing full-body geisha paint or superhardcore goth or a coke bather for this thing.” “Coke bather?” “Yeah, get covered in the stuff so rich execs can snor… y’know- never mind, probably not the best reference. That trend was so last-year, anyway.” She checked on the boots at the base of the bed. "Well, at least these are usable, and then there's your old getup.” Carnie Tramp… no, stick with the name she gave Isabel- Missy? Miso? Shit, she’d googled it and it was Japanese for some bird or something. Whateverhername…. she’d said something unexpected that was the important part. It was obviously a curse from the tone but not English. “Wait- was that Spanish?” “Yeah, sorry. I’m not fluent. My parents were determined we’d grow up speaking English, but it was’t their first language. When they got pissed they’d still curse in Spanish. My brother and I would get them pissed a lot then compare notes. Curse words are about all I can say.” “Your codename’s not Spanish, though, right?” If she’d done this research wrong, Isabel would have her hide. “Right, Misosazai’s Japanese for Wren.” Candice started sorting through the clothes, trying to find something for Misosazai, since there was no way that suit would be street-worthy for at least a few days. "But you don't speak Japanese?" “No.” "And that's not your real name, obviously. So, what should I call you?” “Misosazai” she replied, without hesitation. Candy visibly flinched, “I’m sorry, that was presumptive of me. I just… I mean in this business I should know better than getting personal with someone. I didn’t mean to pry. I should just go..” “It’s OK, I… I didn’t intend it as a shutdown. My friends called me Misosazai. My family called me Misosazai. Everyone that knows me calls me Misosazai. My real name…. well, the last people to call me by my real name really didn’t know me at all.” Candy sat at the edge of the bed, clearly expecting more from this story. Misosazai seemed to let her guard down and sat on the corner opposite her. “It was all: ‘Hi Shandora, let’s help you to your new room and introduce you to the other fosters,’ and ‘Shandora, let’s talk about how we process grief’ or ‘We’re sorry, Shandora, but your brother’s fosters won’t be able to bring the only real fucking family you have left over for a visit this weekend. Again.’ Or ‘Ms. Ward, to the principal’s office now.’ “The last part- starting with Ms.- that was actually the hardest- like I almost expected someone to call me Misosazai and I’d turn around and see Ryk or mom or one of her friends. Someone who knew me. I gave up. I won't be that person anymore. I’m just Misosazai, now.” They sat in silence until Candy extended a hand and a warm smile, “Well, Misosazai, nice to meet you. I’m Candice Cage. No relation- unfortunately. My friends all call me Candy.” “Ok… Candy.” Isabel was so right. Be tough around her and the walls go up, but show a little bit of vulnerability or trust and the kid melts. “Do you mind a nickname, something shorter like Missy or Miso or…?” She was cut off, “Anything but Missy or Mizzy.” There was history there. Maybe for another time. “Ok, Miso it is, then." She pulled something from the closet and passed it over, "Why don’t you try on this? Good thing about black: it goes with anything.” It was a light slip of a dress, spaghetti straps, short, and slit up the thigh. Misosazai’s face was a blend of intrigue and discomfort “God, I’d look like such a hook… er… I mean… I didn’t. That came out so wrong.” “No, no problem, I get it. I wouldn’t have expected it, given what you were wearing when we found you, but I do get it. Try it on anyway. We’ll build up from there.” She went over to the closet and fished around, “Maybe with some of… well, there are jeans, there are skinny jeans and then there’s practically painted-on, like this, but the material’s elastic enough for you to kick without splitting them. Plus, they’d go with the boots, and with the skirt on top, you won’t feel like your ass is on full display.” She passed over the clothes and they stood in awkward silence, facing one another until Candy got the message and turned around to face the wall, rolling her eyes. “For what it’s worth,” she called back over her shoulder, “We don’t use the term hooker. Those girls work the street or the floor. Nothin wrong with that, but it’s a dangerous job we don’t do. When we’re on the floor, it’s strictly for info gathering. We work with the high-rollers- all carefully vetted, and a lot of them regulars that last all night, if not days. Sometimes we’ll do special parties and stuff, but really, we’re more like high-cost dates offering a full range of experiences, not just fu***ng for dollars.” “I didn’t mean…” “I know. Forget it. Let’s change the topic. You mentioned a brother. He like you? In the hero biz?” The silence told her she’d hit a nerve. “No. Not like me. Ryk was very much not like me. Probably would have been a great hero. Mom always say that he got dad’s Latin physique but her Asian mind. Said that made him the perfect warrior. I, on the other hand, got I got her build with a Latina temperament. She called that the perfect disaster.” “Ouch.” “It was more a tease than a dis. Mom was always training him up- he’d win tournament after tournament. It’s kinda what she did- come up with custom fighting styles for heroes based on their strengths and weaknesses. With Ryk, that meant that the toughest part of getting him in the Olympics was determining what style he was closest to using.. With me, it was all ‘Run. Hide. Don’t draw notice to yourself. Hit hard when you have to, then hide some more.’ I always wanted to do the flashier kicks and gymnastic moves that she taught others, but she’d just yell “Misosazai!” and send me back to my katas. You can turn around now.” The jeans-with-dress kinda worked- it fit- had a kinda “sassy formal” twist to it. “Sounds like Misosazai was codeword for ‘STFU, kid.’” That got a laugh. “Oh, it was totally STFU, in her own way, but more. The wren’s small, not showy or flashy, and is so common it just blends into the background. It’s what she wanted me to do, so she started calling me that all the time to drill it in. Once she did, it kinda caught on with everyone. ” “Everyone telling you to STFU all the time. Did the message ever get through?” “Not a chance.” She laughed again. Candy got the impression the girl hadn’t had reason to laugh in a long time. She studied herself in the mirror again. “I’m not used to dressing up.. for attention. Mom never approved, and on the street, it was dangerous to… y’know, draw attention to yourself.” “I didn’t bring any jackets, but now that I know they’ll fit, I’ll send the rest of Tina’s stuff” “What happened to Tina?” Candy hesitated, her voice cracking a little as she spoke, “Her… friend for the night had enemies. She was collateral damage.” “I’m sorry.” “Yeah, well, her tastes were a bit different. Don’t get too wigged out if you find anything too… um... trade specific in with them, ok? I really don’t want to spend too much time sorting or thinkin of her.” “I won’t need all that. I'll be heading out soon and I’ve got to travel light.” “Isabel says with all the favors you got for her, this place is yours for a month. Sorry, that was the other message I was supposed to deliver.” “I couldn’t.” “You’re not imposing- and don’t let Isabel make you think you owe her or something. You help people. You got skills we don’t. Keeping you close… maybe things’ll turn out different for the next Tina.” “I can’t make promises.” “Then don’t. Just use what you can for as long as you can. No obligations. But… if you want to feel obligated… when some new merc op takes you halfway around the world to rescue some kidnapped oil baron’s son and they shower you with millions, come back and buy us a round of drinks, ok?” Misosazai rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’m not a merc.” "Hero, then? How’s that pay anyway? Product endorsements? Free rent?” “I’m not sure. I’m not really that, either. Not… like… registered or anything. This thing in St. Martial, it’s just something I had to do.” “So what pays the bills?” She shrugged, “I live lean.” “So what happens if you, I dunno, get shot and you need to lay low a while?” “I don’t expect to live through that.” “What? One of those ‘wolf only loses one fight, and in that fight, wolf dies’ folk? Seriously?” The nod was so matter of fact- there wasn’t the glimmer of hesitation in her eyes. “You’re fuckin serious! You didn’t come here to find the heroes- you came here to die, and searching for the heroes just makes it sound more noble.” “I fight. That’s all I know, and I’m just gonna do that till I can’t fight anymore.” “Girl, that’s effin crazy. I f**k. It’s about all I know, too. I BS the rest, but I’m not gonna f**k myself to death, and I’ve found a way to make money off it, at least!” “It’s not the sa..” “It’s the same thing. We both got gifts. We use them. You don’t know how to turn a profit on yours, but they’re worth a lot more than mine, I’m telling ya. Isabel can help with that, even.” “I don’t need the money.” “Sure you do. When we found you when was the last time you ate? You were mugging freaks for pocket change to make ends meet. Is that really how you want to meet your end? Weak from no food and no sleep, and taken out during a mugging. Is that the end of your great fight?” “I’m not gonna try to talk you away from dyin. I’ve met a lot of people with that attitude- and yeah, they do eventually die, but not before they get twisted up in something bad. They don’t get the death they want. They get some miserable pathetic way out when they were worn down or in debt to other people who treated them as disposable. To keep control of your destiny, you need cash. They forgot that. Don’t you do the same.” That seemed to be sinking in. “Talk to Isabel. She’ll help- for a cut.” Misosazai’s phone was charging next to the bed. It’ screen was unlocked. She grabbed it. “Here, I’ll give you her direct number. She won’t mind ya havin it.” Small contact list. Very small, and the only active app was… “What’s this? One of those places you’ve been lookin for?” Misosazai snatched the phone back. That said it all. “Let me take a copy. Wasn’t much to distinguish it from any hovel on the isles, but some of the girls come from that kind of background. Maybe we can help.” “Too dangerous.” “For you, yeah, you had that cape look even when you were flashin panties at everyone you kicked, but some of us are natives to that kind of place. We can get in and out where you can’t.” Misosazai held the phone close. “C’mon, we don’t get many chances to be the hero in our line of work.” She reluctantly handed the phone over. Candi forwarded the pic and handed the phone back. “There. Probably won’t be anything we can do, but ya never know.” She got up to leave. “Y’know, some of the girls are getting together for ladies’ night later tonight. No clients, just us. They’re all curious of the new heroine they’ve been hearin about. If you got nothing goin on, let the catsuit dry for a night and come down n visit.” “… I might.” “Ok, fair- no commitment, but if you do: The black’s dress is good, but the green would really bring out your eyes. Consider dropping the jeans and boots- there’s some heels in there that’d go great with it.” The wary expression said it all. “Remember, you’re in St. Martial! The frickin Sin City of the Atlantic. Half the population dresses like hookers here- the superpowered ones are even worse. Have you seen Silver Mantis? She makes that getup look practically Amish!” Candi switched to her best mock-somber face, “Sometimes to be the wren you have to dress like a songbird.” She couldn’t hold the face long, as a playful grin slid into place., “Hey! I like that. Sounds kinda proverb-y. Maybe that’s something your mom would say in this situation?” “This situation?” Misosazai eyed the dress and the heels in the closet and blushed. “I’m pretty sure she’d say ‘Young lady, you’re grounded!’” That confirmed that green was the right choice- the girl would be too red-faced most of the night for the red one. “Ok, I’ll see you at 8, the Glencoe room. It’s the one with the waterfall.” She shut the door before Misosazai could remind her that she’d only said maybe. Candy contained herself until the elevator doors shut, then quickly broke out the phone. “Hey, it’s me. Yeah. Shandora Ward. Get Det. Biggs to run it. I think we can rule out the billionaire-playgirl-superheroine scenario, but might as well be sure.” “No, still do it. We play every angle till there’s no angle left to go. Maybe mommy had an insurance policy. Oh! and you can tell Saki she can stop fretting over her Japanese studies- not gonna be useful here. ” “Nah, the dragon-mom story of hers is gonna be spot on. She can still run with that.” “Nope. No family. No ties.” “I got a pic, too. Think it’s near where we picked up Monique. Share it with her. Make sure I’m right.” “Oh, and you were right. She’s gotta be under 20. Guessin straight outta high school now.” “I know I was way off before, but you look in her eyes and you get the feeling she's been doing this merc stuff for decades. Besides, in my defense you know how orientals age. Saki’s 5 years older than me but put her in pigtails and she still rocks a convincing schoolgirl. She’ll probably be able to do that for another 10 years while we have to trade up gimmicks every 3.” “Makes me sick, too.” “Miso. Yeah, that’s a soup, right?” “Thought so. Well, if that angle plays out, we’ll have Miso and Saki- a lunchtime special!” “No. Unlikely. You should see her every time I hinted at our work. With that dragon mom, I’m bettin she never even had a boyfriend.” “Well, that was Saki. This one… I think a guy makes a move like that, she’d break him in half. Like I said, unlikely.” "Most likely angle, then? Probably scraping the carcass of everything we can. The girls on self-destruct, I think.” “No, don’t’ go all ‘wounded puppy’ on me. We ain’t fixin her and we aint’ keepin her. We're not investing in her like we did with Tina. ” “No, I don’t feel bad for her. Look, if she wants to give up and die, she can go at it. I'm not gonna feel bad about squeezing the most out of her life before that? She’s just wastin it. If I'm wrong and it goes another angle, we'll still be more ahead betting on that.

St. Martial A Few Days Later Misosazai, Isabel the Knife, and Candy "So, you're sure of this?" Stranger things had crossed Isabel the Knife in her years, but this development was unexpected. "Yup, Desiree and Mercedes tracked sightings over the past 2 days. She hasn't taken a client- or even tried. Just been hanging around the abandoned lab and picking fights with anyone that even looks at her funny. Then she gets something on her phone, runs across town, and wipes out a warrior stronghold- ALONE- coming out with Decibelle." "A stronghold seems a bit much here, RIP found, what? A dozen of them? At least we know our initial assessment was off- we don't have an encroacher or possible recruit- we have an undercover cape." "Yeah, funny thing is that she only stuck with Decibelle till she was within sight of Vanguard. Mercedes said it was if she was hiding from them." "A solo'er, maybe with her own issues with the law. Interesting. Has there been any other contact made?" "No- well besides with the bottom of her boot." Candice grinned, quite proud of her joke. "She's running round town looking for something, hits the lab to check email, then repeats. Barely eats- girl's gotta be starvin." "She's looking for the other warrior outposts then. I've heard that others have looking as well. I'm pretty sure at least one more has been found, but they're taking a more cautious approach. Henchco." Isabel handed her smartphone to Candice, with the screen showing. "I think its time I send Dear Dr Brayne a present." "And what about the carnie tramp?" "The whatnow?" "That's what the girls call her. The cape. Can't be good for business, having one of those running round." "Same thing we always do- profit." Isabel was busy scrawling a note. "First, you're going to get me some take out from Mr. Chen. Bourbon chicken and pepper steak. Then you're going to get some flowers and take this note to Dr. Brayne's assistant. The guy can have his head in the clouds with all the sciency-stuff, but his assistant is sharp. She'll understand the message. After that, bring Tina's grey costume to the lab. The chamelion one." "The one with..." "Only call them 'special enhancements' around the girl... let's not call her carnie tramp." "Gotchya." Candy read the note. "Whats the BBB contract?" "Benefits, Bribery, and Blackmail. It 'keeps gifted individuals on retainer to reward employees, entertain prospective clients and foreign officials, and take pictures to assure a long-standing and reliable business relationship.' Pretty standard fare. All the big corps have them. HenchCo, Crey, Cage, Major Flanders Fried Chicken..." "Isn't it a little presumptuous to think you can get her on board with this." "My dear, if heroes are anything, they're predictable- and far too trusting." -------------------------------------------------- (A few hours later) So, what's in this for you, again?" "Look, kid, I'm trying to build trust here. That's all. " Isabeleyed the untouched take-out tray and cola in front of the girl with irritation. It just sat getting cold on the desk in the abandoned lab. she'd even set a napkin down to cover the stains. At first the girl's suspicious nature was endearing. She was obviously starving, but wouldn't touch the peace-offering in case it'd been laced with something. Maybe this city wouldn't chew her up in a few days, like it did most, but given her ragged look, she should really start taking care of herself. "What if I eat a piece first?" she offered, reaching for the food. "You might know which pieces are safe." "You pick." "Maybe you already took the antidote." "Maybe give me a break? I'm not some monster! Look, I know that you helped Decibelle get out. I support that. Some of us here don't like the idea of tying up someone, beatin them senseless and selling them off- not without a safeword at least. That's all this is." "What's in it for you?" "Nothing." "Nothing's ever free. There's always a hook." "Well, then you can owe me." "I don't like owing people. What do you want out of this?" Just on time, Candice arrived with the package. Isabel gestured for her to put it down next to the food. "Allright. Allright. Here's the deal. HenchCo's ... a good friend to have. They're running this op, and you're the only one with direct experience in this thing right now. That'll make you very useful for them. You want to free heroes. They want to free heroes. I put the two of you together, you both get what you want, maybe owe me a favor. Unlike you- me and Dr. Brayne understand that favors are a currency that professionals can trade in. Maybe you'll learn that. "An IOU like that from Brane is worth sharing some food- plus you can borrow some tactical gear I got from Lovely Linda to really look the part." The girl was already rummaging through the bag. She pulled out the neutral-grey bodysuit- slim and defining, but still practical and offering some protection. It shimmered in her hands. "Stealth suit. Full chamelion mode. Same stuff that longbow's spec ops and the knives use. Top notch. Yours for this op, if you go." "Yeah, plus Linda says it has all our special enhancements, too!" Candy piped in with pride. Isabel froze. "Our... no. That wasn't the deal. That..." She yanked the tactical wear out of Misosazai's hands, grabbed the soda and poured a drop onto a seam. It foamed. "Goddamn, it! Breakaway thread! Really? NOW?" She shoved everything back in the satchel and practically threw it at Candy, who was stammering, "I... I didn't know." "Shut up. Just..." Isabel turned to Misosazai, visibly shaken, "Shit, there's no time.... Look. I just wanted to have an edge on Brayne. Kinda a survival skill. I... I don't want to mess this rescue up. Do the op with HenchCo, go save the cape. Do that. Don't punish the hero for my screwup, please. " She rummaged through her purse. "I've got $30, go buy yourself a lunch so you know it's safe, and if... if you do this, I'll... make it right for you. I'll owe ya. Heck... I got a safehouse- a room at the Pot o Gold near the service elevator. Warm bed, hot bath, room service, and I'll send over a bunch o stuff in your size to pick from. Just show them this card. I'll... I'll work this all out, even if the favor is worth less than the cost." She shoved the cash and the card into Misosazai's hands. The girl's suspicious gaze had melted into understanding... even trusting. "Just.. save the cape, ok?" Misosazai nodded, pocketed the cash, gathered her stuff and ran off. Isabel leaned on the desk, watching to be sure she was gone. Candice dropped the satchel and started munching on the food. "Candy, dear, make sure you fix that soda spot as soon as you get back. Marly need it for her 4am." "Yup. On it," she mumbled through mouthfuls of food. "So, uh... you're out, what? $30, this $5 grub, and the room you already got for free, right? That's your safehouse, right?" "Along with anything of Tina's old stuff that she wants. Yes." Isabel decided she better help herself to the food while it lasted. "And you're getting HenchCo's standard merc rate?" Isabel smiled. "So I figure the only way you come out losing on this favor is if HenchCo misses a couple o zeros on the cheque." Isabel kicked back and relaxed. "A lesson for you on being a broker, Candice: never charge a penny less than the market will pay, and never pay a penny more than the seller thinks its worth. You get to keep everything between the two, and sometimes, those margins are extraordinary." "And if Dr. Brayne spills the beans?" "Darlin, you know first rule of our business is you NEVER talk compension during the act. Same goes for mercenaries."

St. Martial. A Few Hours Later Misosazai Misosazai cursed as she assessed her current circumstances. Although most people wouldn’t consider it lucky to wash up on an abandoned beach, exhausted, and borderline hypothermic, with no ID, cash, phone, dressed in what was debatably more covering than a swimsuit, it *was* a step up from what put her in the sea to begin with. In a similar way, although most people wouldn’t find being surrounded by acrid smoke and still-burning rubble, it did provide much MUCH needed heat just when she needed it. And if there was any need for further proof that her luck was on the upswing, it came when she turned a corner just a block away from coming ashore and encountered a strange sense of deja-vu. Right ahead of her was one of the pictures from the online data analysis. Even the nemesis tunneller was still there. She could have been standing in the exact spot the picture was taken. SCORE! This was it. This was where all her effort paid off. This was… … Her phone was with her other gear at the bottom of the sea. She felt like her luck took a turn for the worst. Not much had really changed- she still had no phone, no ID, no cash, and was dressed in an outfit that would make a hooker blush, but the full impact of that reality was becoming all too clear, and the bad luck just kept coming. A rogue wave from the ocean broke against the pier, spraying her with a freezing mist. “F**K!” she shouted, only to hear movement behind her. “Hey, girlie. If you’re offerin…” Three freakshow approached fast with very little interest in what her response would be. “Any of you have a phone I can borrow?” she asked while clearing a wet tress off her face. As soon as the confused reaction registered on their faces, she lept into them. A knee to his throat took the first one out of commission, with the other two were quickly felled by a Dragon’s tail and and basic finishers before they ever got up. A search of their pockets resulted in a handful of poker chips. No phone. No wallets. “… and no shirts.” She muttered to her writhing audience. “Seriously, guys, you’ve got to be freezing. Shirts. Jackets. They keep you warm, could keep ME warm, and most importantly…” she added as she slipped the poker chips down her brassiere, “they have pockets! Oh, that one’s real metal. Cold.” “You guys are lucky. I’m about three goosebumps short of turning your pants into a shawl.” Her next encounter- blue ink men. No phone. No wallets. “And again, no shirts. Come on people. I’m stretching out the seams here. One lucky hit by the next baddie and …jackpot… I guess.” It took her another two encounters- Tsoo and Wailers before she encountered someone who wasn’t as topless as she’d be if she kept weighing down the carnie’s brassier: A tommy-gun wielding Family man talking on a cellphone. She didn’t even wait for him to do anything hostile. One moment he’s chatting with “mahm” on the phone and the next he had a purple stiletto setting his voice to Soprano as his gun flew in one direction and his phone flew in the other. The latter landed with a crash that made it clear that it wouldn’t be salvageable. “Go****mn it!” they said in unison- though his voice was far higher than hers. “Wha? Ya wanted my phone? Ya coulda just asked, y’know?” the button man let out, as he half-collapsed into a seated position on the curb. “And you would’ve given it to me?” “Well, we coulda worked something out” he said with eyes clearly set on her chest. She crossed her arms, triggering a sound of jostling plastic and metal. “Right. Your wallet and your coat. Now. “ He hesitated for a moment, butcomplied. She slipped on the suit jacket first- she had priorities- then tossed the wallet back after relieving it of what little cash he had- probably under $20 American. She grabbed a handful of chips out of hiding and handed them to the mafioso. “These have value to you?” “Sorta. Probably,” was the answer, but his eyes suggested he might have come out ahead on this deal. She tossed a few more for good measure. “Buy something for your ma for me. Don’t go near the gun till I’m gone, and don’t come after me.” “Yeah, kid, whatever.” She was starting to like the wiseguy’s matter-of-fact attitude about the whole thing, like this was an everyday occurrence, so just as she was about to run off, she threw one more line, just to see how helpful he'd be. “Any chance you know a place that’ll trade more chips for a burner?” “Yeah, right here.” She stopped. Sure enough, he fished a cheap plastic smartphone from his front pocket. “Fresh as of this morning.” “Always frisk ‘em.” He gloated. “Ya never know what fun stuff they got hidden away. Got a piece here too, but maybe since I didn’t pull it on ya, you don’t knock the boys into next Tuesday again, OK? Simple trade- the phone for your chips.” He placed the phone on the ground in front of him. “I’ll even let you keep the coat. Looks good on you.” She nodded, realizing that the chips had a lot more value than she’d thought, but emptied her pockets and honored the trade. “Wait, there’s like 5 minutes and no data on here!” He shrugged. “That’s a burner, girl. If the call lasts more than 5 minutes, you’re doing it wrong. If you’re looking for data, though… there’s an abandoned lab in Black Mariah with some open wifi. It’ll connect there. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get my gun before some gutter trash walks off with it. Be seein ya.” -- ((From there, it took a bit of backtracking to get pics of the site, then find the lab, but Misosazai finally got ahold of the mysterious Goldberg group. Now, she needed to wait for a reply.)) ((For those wondering on Misosazai's current "look", she isn't winning any costume contests.)

Off The Coast of St. Martial Several days Later Misosazai *It's no use. I can't focus.* The last few days of fighting had taken their toll on Misosazai. Although the traditions passed down did help recover faster, some things just needed time to recover. Her left arm wouldn’t stop aching- a side-effect of using it too much to shield the bruised ribs on that side. Each exhale hurt a little less during meditation, but the pain always came back. Now, she couldn’t even get comfortable in the lotus, although that may have more to do with the floor rocking and the ridiculous getup she was wearing. There wasn't anyone awake to see her, but she still hitched the skirt down a bit more, even though it would just ride back up in this position. The problem with meditation is it leaves the mind time for introspection, so she finally had to admit that she'd been running on a death wish. She still was, if she was being honest with herself, but the means had evolved. At the start, it had been merely a “fight the good fight until you drop” battle frenzy. No plan beyond the current battle, no thought beyond the next move. It was pretty good as far as death wish tactics were concerned, but she just kept winning- and every moment when she could have accepted death and taken a loss there was always something else at stake- something she had to deny her foe, so she never took the exit. Now it was the hero kidnappings. She’d fought the warriors and won, but others hadn’t, and now they were being held to be auctioned off. It wasn’t right- leaving them to that fate. It’s what the Hellions did with Ryk in the sewers, leaving him and the crew to rot there. It’s what she did when her mom told her to run and never look back. *I’m looking back now, mom. I… I can’t stop looking back.” She shouldn’t have run. She should have died right there at her mom's side. She should have gone with Ryk on his “big score” and died with him. She didn’t. But freeing a hero from the warriors- not leaving them abandoned- fighting to save them… maybe that’d be a good surrogate. The horizon- once just a faint neon glow- was taking shape. The cityscape of St. Martial, the casino isle. The last batch of leaked coordinates painted a path to the Rogue Isles, so that’s where she’s was heading. It wasn't the easiest place for a broke 17-year old to access, but much easier for the upper class. Rich debutantes with access to daddy's yacht, charge cards, and a far-too-public social media account would run all-weekend parties there and back- easy targets for both her and the Carnival of Shadows. It worked out almost perfectly. Not only was the crowd big enough that nobody could know everybody on the boat, but the Carnival of Shadows' propensity for masks made it even easier to infiltrate. *I just wish the rest of their gear was as concealing as the mask.* She adjusted the “skirt” downward once more, then finally gave up and just stood, stretching and reaching to the stars. She couldn't hold the position. The rocking sea, her numb leg, a slick deck, and the iconic carnie high-heels made keeping her footing a challenge. In a half hour they’d dock and she could break away from the drunken and drugged-out partygoers, retrieve her stuff, and get into something more functional. *I did it! I infiltrated the Carnival and made it to St Martial!* She reveled in the victory. She'd donned disguises before, but mostly just gang colors or pretending to be a suited-up crey intern. Not like this. This was big time. *Thank goodness that the rumors of telepaths were overblown.* *Oh, I wouldn’t say that.* a bemused voice said in her head. *This was just too fun to stop. All the sneaking and maneuvering and steamy near-misses- all the times you thought you’d avoided being exposed, all the mulling and brooding and futile attempts to shield your thoughts. I haven't laughed this hard in years.* Two hulking brutes suddenly and silently appeared at each shoulder but something was wrong- the cool sea breeze still cut through her as before. Right through them. *Mind games* she thought, and they disappeared just as fast. *Very good! Ok, I must be honest- all that brooding was a bit boring- but a little sour can make the sweet even sweeter. You can really appreciate drunken debauchery at a new level after a good lick of self-loathing. You should try it, sometime. Might need a heck of a party to offset all your baggage, but it’ll be soooo worth it. Trust me.* A semi-transparent female form leaned against the rail beside her. Her attire, like Misosazai's, didn't leave much to the imagination. *Oh, and leaving Cassie trussed up like that when you took her clothes!* It laughed. *She has such a fun and unexpected adventure to share now. It really was a treat. I’d be remiss in my duties as a hostess if I didn’t return the favor in some minor way. *So here’s the deal: Brad threw your stash overboard a few hours back. Most of it belonged on the seafloor anyway. You didn’t sound too attached to Cassie’s wardrobe just now, but given your lack of alternatives I’ll give you a choice: hop overboard now and you can keep it, or stick around for the cruse’s finale bash and you can gather whatever's wearable off the deck afterward.* *Your choice.* She didn't wait. Jumping away from threats like this was becoming a habit. The smack of cold ocean struck her before the final words even finished. It wasn’t impossibly far to shore- possible with a little pacing. She struggled a bit at the start- it'd be easier if she lost the boots, but she’d need them when she hit land. Fortunately, there wasn’t much else to weigh her down. *See? Such a versatile ensemble. As light as a swimsuit!.... Oh! just but be sure to dry off thoroughly once you get out. That material's practically sheer when wet!"* the voice in her head taunted, prompting Misosazai to swim faster- she'd start pacing herself after she was beyond the psychic’s reach. *And so much better than that hero stuff. Heck, if you'd been wearing ballistic armor or a cape, you'd be halfway to the seafloor!* Misosazai ignored her and kept moving. Yeah, ballistic weave sounded nice, but wearing a cape was never in the cards for her.