indy julia jan 01

<Antioch|GM> [Thursday, early afternoon]
<Antioch|GM> Two days is hardly enough to get accustomed to daily life in the temporary foster home, but it's enough to get a broad grasp of the sequence of things, habits and scheduling and who's-whos and what's-her-deals.
<Antioch|GM> There's leeway and free time, Mr. Demetrius understanding enough that there's a need for privacy or time for self-reflection for the introverts in the too-cramped house. It's an chance to listen to the voices, see them take physical form, when the opportunity arises. Heavy black armor, lithe white duelist. /They/ want something too.
<Antioch|GM> Lunchtime is spent poring over a class schedule sheet, provided and filled out with suggestions by Brenda, while Lori hogs the bacon to assemble a towering sandwich, spraying crumbs as she simultaneously engulfs it and chats about the news on the TV. Things have been a little somber since yesterday - everyone had seen or heard the news about Leviathan. ||
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<Pink|Julia> The only time she'd really felt privacy was in the bathroom, really. And even then, she'd had to share the room with three others - The hollow voice, the crackling voice... and the reflection of some girl. Quite a crowd for such a small room.
<Pink|Julia> Brenda thought she'd want to do choir again... the idea had been surprisingly close to freaking her out. It'd been an uphill struggle to focus on that piece of paper; she really finds it hard to care, even with the dangled prospect of some classes that might interest her - maybe even learning to drive. The parahuman science elective had briefly caught her eye, too, but she hasn't yet come up with a way to suggest it. It had ended up
<Pink|Julia> vaguely unsatisfying for her, overall, despite the woman's efforts. Or maybe because of them.
<Pink|Julia> She picks at the crust of her bread, trying to shut the voices out and focus; she doesn't know how to feel about the news, but it certainly puts a different perspective on her interest in going out there in armor. It is harder to digest than a clumsily assembled sandwich.||
<Antioch|GM> "You're just now filling that out?" Kendall asks, passing by with a paper plate laden with potato chips, sour cream and onion dip, and a strip of bacon already crumbled atop the dip, snatched away before Lori could get to it. "Guess that makes sense. I did mine at the end of last semester, but you only just got here." ||
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<Pink|Julia> "They had to pick what school I was going to," she says, though that is only a small part of it. She had been putting it off, as if ignoring it would make it go away. She's almost tempted to. To just... fly away on her own. Punch people until they let her mom go. She knows that she can't, though, despite the encouragement of the voices. They don't understand needing to eat, not really. Needing a place to sleep, and... "I didn't have
<Pink|Julia> to pick classes at my old school." Well, arguably it was that she wasn't able to. She scratches the back of her neck uncomfortably.||
<Antioch|GM> "All good," she says. "If you got any questions about the classes I might can help you out. There's a stupid huge amount of them, for some reason." ||
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<Pink|Julia> "Yeah..." she nods, having thought the same thing but with even more emphasis on the 'stupid,' and she shoves her sandwich into her mouth at briefly make her immune to having to speak. She brushes in annoyance at her bangs.||
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<Antioch|GM> "I've taken most of these," Kendall continues, tapping the upper half of the sheet, where the core curriculum Brenda's picked out for her are listed. "Just FYI, they make you take one P.E. type class every other semester." ||
* Camtist is now known as Camtist|GM
* soulpelt| is now known as soulpelt|Peter
<Pink|Julia> She can feel her face heat up, and her attempts to clamp down on it only make it worse. "Uhmuhm," she replies around a mouthful of bread, though not spraying it everywhere like Lori.  Her main strategy, so far, for dealing with things like the prospect of gym class has been to ignore it until it is rubbed in her face. The rubbing is coming much more frequently now.
<Pink|Julia> She swallows, gasps slightly, swallows again. Wipes her mouth. Too much at once, in more ways than one. "It doesn't really matter what I pick, does it?"||
<Antioch|GM> "It matters if you pick a class that sucks and you have to stick with it for a whole semester," Kendall replies, shrugging. "Cross-country's the worst. Especially once it gets colder." ||
<Pink|Julia> Oh. Well fuck. She glances back at the sheet again appraisingly. Though some cold sounds pretty good right now, she has the feeling that she might not feel the same way in the middle of winter.
<Pink|Julia> "I guess," she settles on, deciding to push it to later.||
<Antioch|GM> "Oh yeah, another thing," Kendall adds, oblivious to any attempts at procrastination, "study hall's a morning /or/ afternoon elective. You can take both and line them up on the same day with lunch in between. Usually nobody cares about attendance. Sometimes it means having a long lunch, sometimes it means getting lunch off-campus. Pretty nice."
<Antioch|GM> She shrugs again. "Unless you actually care about learning, I guess." ||
<Pink|Julia> ...Huh. That's actually a really good idea. For... all sorts of reasons. It would be a pretty good cover for her identity if she was out doing stuff in the middle of the school day without missing any classes.
<Pink|Julia> Something to think about. But that just brings her mind to... "Mhm," she nods. "...Thanks." Another bite, a little smaller but not much.||
<Antioch|GM> "No prob," she replies, taking that as an indicator that the conversation has ended. Kendall doesn't go far, though, just crosses the threshold into the living room and puts some reality show on TV.
<Antioch|GM> Lori scampers off to watch the show as well, uneaten crust lying sadly on her plate. ||
<Pink|Julia> Julia has no idea what the show is, and what she can see of it hasn't
<Pink|Julia> Julia has no idea what the show is, and what she can see of it hasn't seemed too interesting; on the other hand, it was exactly the sort of stuff she'd never been allowed to watch at home, so there is an obvious allure there. She finishes her food, taking the opportunity tocompletely ignore the half finished schedule, and gets up, collecting the dirty plates as she goes. She's torn, a little - she's as unused to the idea of cleaning
<Pink|Julia> up for everyone as she is the idea of making her own food on the one hand, but on the other just leaving stuff around... Ugh. She'd have gotten in so much trouble at school for that.
<Pink|Julia> She checks the clock, considering whether she can manage some time by herself without starting trouble.||
<Antioch|GM> It doesn't seem particularly difficult. Coming and going is as easy as letting one of the adults know. The home is close to the center of the city, less than a fifteen minute's drive to the PRT headquarters, even accounting for traffic. It's safer than much of the city, and there's a park-and-playground complex at the center of the neighborhood that's a favored location for outdoor excursions, along with the shaded cluster
<Antioch|GM> of woods in the nature preserve a few blocks down the street. ||
<Pink|Julia> Right. She decides to hunt down 'Aunt' Taylor; Mr. Demetrius is nice, but a bit intimidating when it is just the two of them, and getting the other girls involved might lead to them trying to tag along. 'Other' girls, weird thought. They're not really anything like her, but she isn't really sure how normal that is.
<Pink|Julia> She wipes her hands off on her t shirt, then pulls the hem up to wipe her forehead.||
<Antioch|GM> Aunt Taylor is tidying after the girls, clucking her tongue at Lori's crust and not-put-up plate. The grill pan used for lunch and the crumb tray for the toaster oven are being taken care of.
<Antioch|GM> "Hey there, Julia," she says. "Anything I can do for you?" ||
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<Pink|Julia> She feels suddenly selfconscious. "I was gonna go to the park," she mumbles, moving to thrust her hands into her pockets only to realize that she's not wearing a hoodie so she actually jsut sort of pokes herself in the stomach before attempting to re-adjust the move to use the pockets of her cargo shorts. Smooth. She tries to sound confident, not... whatever the opposite would be.||
<Antioch|GM> "Go ahead, hon," Aunt Taylor replies. "Dinner won't be for five and a half more hours. Call me if you need anything, m'kay?" ||
<Pink|Julia> She nods and tactically retreats, attempting not to draw too much attention from Kendall and Lori as she makes for the door. She has all that she plans on needing with her already.||
<Antioch|GM> The reality show proves to be sufficiently entertaining that neither Kendall or Lori make to follow. It's a relatively sunny day out, the worst of the summer heat long-gone. Short-sleeve weather, and comfortable at that. The neighborhood is relatively quiet, no cars passing through during the post-lunch hour. ||
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<Pink|Julia> Comfortable in some ways. She'd not noticed until she wore them that these shirts were... different. Just, weirdly cut, a lot less loose than she'd expected from the size. And the collars were a different shape. It feels weirdly like walking around in an undershirt without a shirt on top. The hair too is weird; it's so short that it constantly surprises her when it flops onto her forehead and sticks.
<Pink|Julia> But none of that matters once she gets out of sight, letting the flickering white glow that is always on the edge of her vision come out fully for the first time in days.||
<Antioch|GM> The glow surrounds her, brightening to a flash, then solidifies. Everything snaps into place, the world looks different seen through different eyes, and a marble suit of armor stands in the secluded clearing, every limb buzzing with a nervous electricity. Branches previously out of reach now seem like footholds and anchors, and a portion of the light remains, a coiling strip of almost-fabric, still glowing the same white.
<Antioch|GM> "It's about time," a voice whispers, usual crackling diminished audibly. ||
<Pink|Julia> "Shut up," she growls, but not externally. She feels the same way, though, and no denying it. Like she's waited too long for this.
<Pink|Julia> It isn't perfect, by any means. It is... oddly uncomfortable, like new clothes that don't quite fit. Pinching here and tugging there and... well, she has a lot of experience with that. Unlike her real clothes, though, the nauseous sense of unsease passes quickly as she easily moves, and not in a usual way. Up she goes, and along, as her whim takes her and keeping out of sight of the road for a ways.||
<Antioch|GM> It's easy to move amidst the trees, even with the canopy serving as an occasional hindrance. Though staying out of sight is a necessity for the time being, it's reminiscent of childhood daydreaming on long car rides, imagining a figure dashing and swinging from the power lines, keeping pace with the car. Less of a daydream and more of a feasible reality, now.
<Antioch|GM> "ϢhΞn̖ ίς ̕iͳ ̃m̀ϫ t̄ȕֶ̊rn?" a distorted voice rumbles, and where there's a degree of clarity to the buzzing tone, the hollow one is garbled, as if trying to speak while submerged in a pool of water. ||
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<Pink|Julia> It had honestly been a bit of a tossup, the promise of the massive black armor rushing down the road, others forced to make way... but it would draw way too much attention. Soon, soon. Once attention doesn't matter. Though now that she's getting ore comfortable inthis sleek white skin, the sumbous curves of the larger armor seem somehow less appealing than they had.
<Pink|Julia> She decides not to dwell on it. She is as free as she's ever been, and for the first time she's going to actually use it properly. She heads downtown, crossing the street in a rush that shocks even her, her whip shooting out like a sight-line in a perspective drawing, meeting and anchoring and pulling all in a smooth motion so unlike the function of her real body. Like it is choreographed.||
<Antioch|GM> It isn't far - from the moment she takes off from the treeline, the tall buildings of downtown Indianapolis are already in view. She approaches, and then, perched atop a telephone pole, finds herself at an intersection. Any further than this, and it's a guarantee that there'll be spectators. Would-be photographers, notwithstanding this newfound speed and agility. ||
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<Pink|Julia> As she pauses, she feels her cape settle around the slim, elongated form. She doesn't quite nderstand how she fits inside the armor despite it being not-her shaped, but the longer she stays like the the less that seems to matter. This is it. Sebastian or Julia doesn't matter now.
<Pink|Julia> Laureate flicks one sleek alabaster arm forth, and launches themself immediately after it.||
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<Antioch|GM> Buildings stretch out before the marble-clad parahuman, leaping from streetlight to awning to balcony to ledge, the white-glowing tether closing gaps in a literal flash. People below look upwards and stare, and in the reflective surface of skyscraper windows, a shimmering mirror of Laureate glides smoothly past.
<Antioch|GM> "That's better," the clear voice comments. "Fresh air. Freedom. No more of this hiding bullshit." ||
<Pink|Julia> "It isn't hiding," she replies, though she knows that the voice isn't saying anything she hadn't been thinking herself. It just seems to /invite/ a protest when she hears her thoughts externally. "This isn't helping," she adds, though she isn't any more sure about that either. What DOES help is the feeling of movement, something alien on the surface but... joyful. Something she's perhaps /always/ desired and not known how to say
<Pink|Julia> it. It is strange, the armor doesn't confine her at all, doesn't even block the feel of the wind on its surface. Surefooted, even on impossibly narrow ledges and poles and wires.
<Pink|Julia> She soars, seeing the people below her staring. She's only seen a cape once or twice in her entire life, and never up close, so she knows what they are thinking. But she isn't them anymore.||
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* Camtist|GM is now known as Camtist
* soulpelt|Peter is now known as soulpelt|
<Antioch|GM> Moving freely, taking whichever footholds present themselves, Laureate finds themself in Monument Square, all whilst people at work or observing from their apartments see the statuesque, stone form of the cape leap with far more dexterity and grace than something so solid-looking ought to have.
<Antioch|GM> An impromptu crowd seems to gather, some shouting inaudibly, some craning their arms and cell phone cameras, all too far away, all literally beneath notice. ||
<Pink|Julia> It must be three hundred feet tall, she thinks, jutting up from the center of the square, far above the waters of the fountain. She'd never been here before, but she is instantly transfixed by the momument. And then, she is atop it, as if as a companion to the mighty memorial statue crowning the pillar.||
<Antioch|GM> * Monument Circle, whoops
<Antioch|GM> There is, upon closer inspection, an inscription at the base of the bronze statue crowning the monument.
<Antioch|GM> *Victory.*
<Antioch|GM> With the vantage point available, it's easy for Laureate to spot another flying cape approaching their perch. ||
<Pink|Julia> Victory. Well, not yet, but it feels closer than it had before. She turns her attention to the newcomer, perfectly at ease physically even if within the impassive shell her heart is racing.||
<Antioch|GM> The approaching cape is winged, feathers sprouting irregularly from their skin, legs ending in disjoint, irregular talons, giving off the impression of a particularly feral harpy. Perching atop the Victory statue, she leans down, peering at Laureate.
<Antioch|GM> "Who're you, new cape?" ||
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<Pink|Julia> $roll 1d6+1 know
<[ATM]> Pink|Julia "know" [1] +1 = 2
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<Pink|Julia> Laureate finds themself somewhat disturbed by the display, after they so carefully made plenty of room for them - landing atop the statue like a gross parody of a pigeon, which is suddenly all she can see when she looks upon the creature. Fortunately, her armor is quite impassive and despite the need to lean back she manages to maintain her balance with little effort.
<Pink|Julia> "I am," she agrees, sketching a slight bow.||
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<Pink|Julia> $roll 2h6 charm
<[ATM]> Pink|Julia "charm" (1) [4]  = 4
<Antioch|GM> "What's your name?" the harpy continues, gripping the arm of the statue with her talons and leaning down closer so Laureate doesn't .
<Antioch|GM> "Oh," she adds, after a moment of afterthought. "Maybe you wanna move unless you want to deal with the Protectorate crawling up your ass for trespassing or stupid shit like that."
<Antioch|GM> "And I'm Gryphon." She extends a talon. "Gryphon Rampant." ||
<Pink|Julia> Laureate approves of the name. Very suitably heraldic, like something off a coat of arms. A lot of those animals are pretty crazy looking, too. She extends a gauntlet, tilting her helm in such a way that the curved slit at the tip of her elongated helm almost resembles a smile.
<Pink|Julia> "They should have put a sign saying so, then," she points out with an amused crackle to her otherwise androgynous voice. "Laureate."||
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<Antioch|GM> ((Hey, unfortunately, I've got to get to bed and pause the session. When would be a suitable day or time to resume for you? Any day from Wednesday onwards is feasible for me.))
<Antioch|GM> |||