Sicol

Teller|GM

Claire is tired. She's hobbled to the dock, ordered a hamburger from a food truck, eaten it while sitting on a bench with her leg sticking awkwardly out to the side. Her good leg had started to really hurt at this point, so she hobbled deeper into the city and picked up up a crutch from Walgreens. It's a little weird to use without being able to bend her

knee, but years of bitter experience have made her a pro with the things.


Far more capable of ambulation now, she makes her way back to the abandoned warehouse. The night hot and muggy, as well as starless thanks to the dark clouds overhead. Most of the lights on Industry street are off as well, making it hard to see. She keeps imagining someone lunging out of an alley to stab her, and is only comforted by the fact that she could


probably turn them into deli meat before they did anything.


She can hear music in the distance, a low throbbing noise. Nearly there.

tubes|Slither

Claire slowly limps her way back to the party. Normally she'd have her head on a swivel, barely supressing panic at the darkness, but she's too worn out at this point. The way her luck was going her mugger would probably be Deep Six, having recently made friends with the Slaughterhouse Nine and all three Endbringers. Who want the hundred bucks or whatever she has left after buying this

stupid crutch. Yeah. Makes about as much sense as everything else's that's happened lately.


Definitely too worn out to go to some stupid party but her other option at this point was to find a ditch to sleep in or something, so she might as well go see what the deal is. Maybe Superstition would turn back up and Claire could offer...whatever the hell she has to offer. She's had some time to think today, well, this evening, anyway - she'd spent most of the day trying (and failing)


to be badass and then in a blind panic - and she's no longer so sure of signing up with Think Tank. Shakesphere would definitely think they were lame, for one, and while Superstition was kind of bitchy, at least she didn't wake Claire up in the morning with a rusty knife. Not even a nice one! Seriously, what the fuck. Who tries to ambush (supposed) serial killers with a rusty knife? Isn't


it usually supposed to be other way around? Whatever.


Some food and the tiring walk has managed to turn her panic into a more usual sort of bland depression and apathy. She DID make it out with the clothes, and she dodged the Protectorate. I mean, she would have rathered the jerks left her alone, but, they didn't get her, and that's a win, right? Claire doesn't even really know, not that she has any clue how to be a supervillain in the first


place. She wishes she had someone to ask. Stupid Shakesphere. Stupid Seachange. Stupid Wolves. Stupid Benjamin.


She tries to drop that loop of thinking before she starts getting herself too upset again. She'd tried one of those positive thinking exercises while she was sitting there eating, but all she'd managed to come up with was "didn't get murdered today" and "didn't get thrown in jail today", which wasn't really conducive. Maybe a party would help. Shakesphere would probably reccomend cutting


loose, anyway. Wasn't that supposed to be one of the perks to being a supervillain? Cutting loose, doing whatever you want? Wasn't going great so far, but it's not like she had much else to go on at this point.


It's about all she has to believe in as she limps up to the warehouse. At least the party was real after all. Or maybe it was a Protectorate trap. Or maybe-


Claire physically shakes her head, trying to psych herself up into a more supervillain (or at the very least less pathetic) mindset as she limps her way into the party.

Teller|GM

The low throbbing noise resolves itself into a loud low throbbing noise as she closes in on the warehouse. The main door is shut and lock, but there's some light coming from the left side of the building. Investigation shows that the flickering illumination emanates from one of the loading dock doors. It's cracked partway open to make a gap about 4 feet

high.


Is that where they're supposed enter? A girl in a black dress and tall wedges approaches from the other side of the warehouse, then pulls herself up onto the ledge and vanishes inside. Seems like that's a 'yes'.

tubes|Slither

Claire sighs. Of course the party run by supervillains in an abandoned warehouse isn't ADA compliant. She could probably just turn into her snake-form and leap inside, but that would definitely be a buzz-kill, given how people tend to normally react. It hadn't been that long since she'd been stuck with no legs at all, hopefully she could still hoist herself places.

She resolves herself to either look really stupid or busting her ass (or possibly both), puts her crutch on the ledge, and tries to hoist herself up and inside without tearing up her socks too badly.

Teller|GM

OOC: Athletics, please.

tubes|Slither

$roll 1d6

$ tubes|Slither [1] = 1

Teller|GM

Claire grasps the edge of the ledge and starts to pull herself up, swinging her good leg up first-

And that's when her other leg decides to start working again. It kicks hard into the wall, shoving her backwards. She lands hard on the asphalt below.


"Ouch!" Someone says from above her. There's a girl with curly brown hair crouching on the top of the ledge, looking down at her. She wears a very skimpy black t-shirt with the sleeves and bottom half cut off, black jeans, and a sympathetic expression. "Pre-gaming, huh?"


She hops down and offers her to hand to Claire. Her left leg continues to twitch, making small but uncontrollable movements.

tubes|Slither

"Aghhhh-" Claire lets out a hiss of pain, fighting back tears. The last thing she needed to do was show up to the supervillain party looking like she'd been crying outside (even if she had been). And now her leg was freaking out. Oh great, and somebody had just seen her eat pavement. Great first impressions. She takes the proferred hand up, leaning on that and the wall and carefully trying

to work back to standing without letting the twitchy leg knock her back over.


"...Something like that. T-Thank you." She trips over herself, briefly remembering the cops searching for earlier. Claire breaks eye contact nervously, then remembers that that's even more suspicious than just looking, and tries to look back at the girl, and now it was awkward, shit, ugh.


They'd gone into the shop, God, hopefully her face wasn't all over the evening news at this point. Had to play it cool, surely people who went to party at an abandoned warehouse didn't watch the six o clock news to see who was a wanted supervillain, right? This party was even run by supervillains. It'd give her street cred. Or something. Right? Agh, shit, crap.


Just, say something, try not to be weird. Or supervillanous. No, wait, didn't she want to be supervillanous? God, this was a total disaster. Should have found a ditch to sleep in.


"I, um, don't suppose you know an, um, easier way, in?" Claire manages to get out. Hopefully she'd say 'no' and Claire could just sit out her by herself, like she deserves.

Teller|GM

"Yeah, there's the loading ramp!" The girl says, with a little more enthusiasm than the subject matter calls for. She pulls Claire to her feet before bouncing to the structure at the end of the row of loading docks. Light and music spill into the night as she opens the door.

tubes|Slither

Oh good, that entire effort served no purpose other than to make Claire look and feel stupid. The door was open. Whatever, might as well get this whole fiasco over with. Claire grabs the crutch off the ledge and walks/hobbles/gimps her way to the open door as best she can/ It would be even harder now that her leg was spasming instead of just pretending to be a peg leg, but hopefully she

could manage.


At least someone was excited about the party.


She thanks the girl again when she gets over there.


"Um, thanks again." Claire says. Oh wait, she'd never even introduced herself. Now it would be kind of awkward. Whatever, that was probably the most minor social error that she was going to make tonight. When was the last time she'd been to this kind of party? She went to one in high school, maybe? It all seems like a different life, lived by someone else.


OOC: Claire tries to work her way inside, if the girl doesn't have any other commentary.)

Teller|GM

Claire steps through the door into a world of loud music and flashing lights. The expansive space of rusty metal and concrete still looks very much like the interior of a warehouse, with stacks of old crates spread around the floor, rows of tilted shelves in the back, and even a forklift in the corner.

The party looks to be concentrated near the center, with a throng of people dressed in dark clothing thrashing and jumping up and down beneath strobe lighting. A few people are off in their own little groups, however, and it looks like the layout was designed to accommodate them. There are a few people sitting on old chairs and sofas at the edges of the


light...and on second glance Claire notes some others hanging out in the darker areas of the building, taking advantage of the privacy of the crates.


"Sure!" the girl says, following her into the party and shutting the door behind them. "I think we just opened the loading dock for the coolness, you know?"

tubes|Slither

"Yeah,-" Claire, starts, but she's cut off as the noise and light hits her.

It's definitely the live-est party Claire has been to in a while, maybe ever, and she's a little stunned.


Oh, man, she was actually here. Well, at least it probably wasn't a Protectorate trap, or a prank, or a- No, no no no, she was here to have fun. Fuuuuun. Like Shakesphere would have wanted.


What did you even do at a party for fun? Dancing was certainly out of the question, probably would have been out of the question even if both legs were working. Ugh, this was the worst- no, fun. Couldn't think like that.


"ahem," she tries to recover, "That, um, makes sense." Stellar socialization. Nailed it.


"I'm, uh, Claire, by the way." Claire decides that, while she was definitely a feared supervillainess and had no need to worry about anything, introducing herself as such was probably not the best way to make friends at a party.

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll, please.

tubes|Slither

$roll 1d6+1 soc

$ tubes|Slither "soc" [3] +1 = 4

Teller|GM

"Molly," the girl says, half-yelling to be heard over the music. "That's outfit's really fuckin' cute, you know that? Totally works for you."

Judging by all the other partygoers, it's definitely not the worst thing she could have picked out if she wanted to fit in. Lots of black, purple, and red, dark makeup. She can sort of tell that everyone is playing dress up and they don't normally dress like this, but it's not like Claire isn't wearing a costume herself.


"Want something to drink?" Molly asks her. She looks down briefly at Claire's twitching leg, then decides to ignore it. "Or...something else? Logan has /everything/."

tubes|Slither

Er, cute? Claire doesn't really know how to respond to that, so she doesn't. I mean, it obviously wasn't true, even if she wasn't limping around with a spastic leg, but wait, no, that would be rude, not responding, wouldn't it. Well, Claire did want to try something new. Hopefully this girl wasn't just lying. Which she probably was.

"Um, thanks. You too!" Claire shouts back.


Wait, Logan? Wasn't that the kid from the Manor? No, that had to be a conicidence. Logan was a pretty common name, right?


"Uh, a drink sounds great!" Presumably 'everything else' was a giant pile of drugs, which supervillains did whenever they wanted, but, uh, maybe save that for later.

Teller|GM

OOC: Athletics roll, please.

tubes|Slither

$roll 1d6 ath

$ tubes|Slither "ath" [2] = 2

Teller|GM

Claire stumbles a lot as Molly leads her towards the table of alcohol. The hip of her bad leg is only barely responding. The throng of bodies hinders her forward progress, but also serves to keep her from falling over.

"Lemme guess your drink! Um...screwdriver?" Molly hazards, then proceeds to messily pour her one from the various bottles arrayed on the table without waiting for an answer. A man in a gray spandex bodysuit swoops low overhead, snagging a beer with one hand while holding a laughing girl in the other.

tubes|Slither

Damn this leg, and damn Superstition's warning. Bombs schmobs, if she finds Abby, she's getting this fixed. Not like she can get MORE blown up. Ugh. Claire tries to focus back on the - important? - task at hand.

Claire's not even sure she has 'a drink', so she just takes the proffered one. She tries really hard to respond without tripping somewhere.


"Wow, you're good! Thanks!" Mindless platitudes, she can handle, right? Everyone here is on something, she just has to pretend to be a normal, totally functional human (and not a half robot snake person felon) and she can make it through. Right?


OH FUCK-wait, nononono.


Claire has to check the urge to hit the deck as the guy swoops overhead, given recent events. Right, supervillain gang, she was invited, not a superhero, she was clear here.


She lets out a shuddering breath and takes a sip of the poorly-concocted screwdriver. Which she then has to choke down, because it's more vodka than orange juice, but Claire manages to do so by washing it down with another sip which is slightly less awful. Okay, okay. She could do this. It was a party. She was older than like 70% of the people here, just had to play it cool, right? She


could chill with her drink and have a night without a mental breakdown or a cape raid or whatever. That would be pretty alright, wouldn't it?


That in mind, Claire tries to find a place to sit. Her leg was cooperating less and less. Hopefully she'd find Superstition sooner rather than later.


She tells Molly, after getting another sip of her drink - still way too strong, but supervillains could pound 'em back, right?


"I, uh, need to sit for a bit, do you mind?"

Teller|GM

OOC: Wits roll, please. Awareness applies.

tubes|Slither

$roll 2h6 awareness

$ tubes|Slither "awareness" (2) [3] = 3

Teller|GM

"No, stand up and suffer," Molly says, with an eyeroll. "Of course you can sit. I totally don't mind."

Surprisingly, Molly tags along after she grabs a drink of her own, following her over to a nearby couch. The music is quieter here, the flashing light less intense. "Hurt your leg? That really sucks. Now you can't dance!"


"Just came to hang?" she asks, sitting on the arm of the couch nearest Claire. "Score free drinks?"


She arches her eyebrows suggestively. "Oooh...or, or, there are some hotties out there you could grab up..."

tubes|Slither

Claire sinks into the couch, letting out a sigh of relief at her good leg finally getting some relief. She takes another sip of the increasingly less-strong-tasting drink. This wasn't so bad, was it?

Oh great, now this girl wanted to have a conversation. Fuck. How much was she even allowed to say? I mean, right, she was allowed to say whatever she wanted, because, you know, supervillainess, but she didn't want to screw with whatever or however Superstition planned these things. No, no, just play it cool, Claire. Be chill. Except this girl was doing that same bullshit with her eyebrows


that Shakesphere did, and it's a hard reminder of all that she's tried and failed to do.


Claire takes another sip to try and recover, buy some time while she thinks. God, what were you even supposed to do at these kinds of parties? And now this random girl had attached herself to Claire.


"I, uh, I've had a bad leg for a while, just bad luck mostly...I met Superstition earlier today and she invited me." That was mostly true. Hopefully it didn't sound totally suspicious. And 'hotties?'...'grabbing a hottie' was how she'd ended up in this whole twisted mess in first place, hadn't she? It's obviously an innocuous comment on Molly's part, but the thought make's Claire's stomach


twist. No, definitely not. Maybe never. "N-not sure i'm after any, um, hotties, tonight." She tries to cover. Ugh. She takes yet another sip of her drink, trying to relax. And cover up for how nervous she is.

Teller|GM

Molly takes a long drain of her own drink. "Okay, soooo...what then? You came here to have fun, right?"

tubes|Slither

What, was this girl a therapist in her downtime or something?

"Yeah, I suppose." Wow, that was probably the lamest answer she could have possible responded with. Badass supervillain indeed. Awesome. Say something less stupid.


"I'm, uh, kind of, just out of a relationship?" Yeah, sure-No, that was more stupid. Good one.

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll, please.

OOC: tubes|Slither?

tubes|Slither

$rol 1d6+1 soc

$roll 1d6+1 soc

$ tubes|Slither "soc" [1] +1 = 2

Teller|GM

"Um, that just means there's nothing holding you back from doing whatever and whoever you want," Molly says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. She hops off the couch, jostling Claire slightly as she does so. "You just need to...loosen up. Two more screwdrivers, coming up!"

She walks off through the crowd towards the table of alcohol before Claire can protest.

tubes|Slither

Greaaaaat...Wait, no, why does she give a fuck? I mean, she probably didn't know exactly why she had a point, but Molly did have a point, right? Claire eyes Molly heading off back towards the liquor table, and then eyes her (rather shitty) drink. Supervillainess right? Drink whatever she wants, right? However many 'hotties' she wants, right? She could have a whole harem of Chippendales if

she wanted. She could live a lifestyle that'd put a rapper music video to shame. If she could stop sucking so much.

tubes|Slither

Well, maybe that was pushing it. But hadn't she decided to do whatever she wanted to do earlier? Why should, well, not knowing what she wants, get in the way of that? The Protectorate had tried and failed, earlier. Why should it matter if she'd hid or fought? She was still a free woman. Might as well enjoy it, right?

Claire pulls back a healthy slug of her drink. Fuck it.

Teller|GM

The light flashes wildly above her, the music pulses in her ears and through her head. Her leg has stopped twitching, and instead she can feel her toes clenching and unclenching themselves over and over inside of her boot. It's warm in the warehouse, and the cool drink feels good going down her throat.

Molly's back in front of her soon, pressing another drink into her hand. She's trailed by a tall-ish highschool boy in black suit jacket and a fedora, as well as a pale, dark-haired girl who - unlike most of the people here - doesn't look like her dark outfit and makeup is unusual for her.


"That's Em, and this is Jake," Molly says loudly, then adds. "Don't sleep with Jake. He's an ignorant slut."


Jake mutters something, but offers no other protest.


OOC: *in a black suit jacket

tubes|Slither

Claire's wondering what it means that she can feel her toes at all, even if she can't control what they can do, given what happened previously. Tinkertech. Whatever. It'd either get fixed or it wouldn't. No point worrying about it now. At least she's got somewhere to sit, and people that weren't after her head. This wasn't so bad, was it?

Claire takes the proffered drink, and takes a sip. It's not really any better than the last one, but she doesn't care so much anymore either. She's feeling looser, now, a little better, a little more /Slither/. Claire sucked, but Slither was a badass supervillain and could do whatever the hell she wanted, right?


Jake is wearing a fedora, which haven't been in style for at least 60 years now, so that makes sense. He's also pretty clearly in high school, and Claire doesn't want to be one of /those people/ so that's probably not going to be a problem. Claire mostly just hopes her 'costume' comes off as well on her as what are apparently 'Em''s regular clothes come off on her.


"Hi. Claire." She says, by way of introduction, taking another step. Gotta be cooool. Villanous. Right. She repositions her crutch so it's less in the way, in case they want to take a seat. No reason to let her inability to stand right be a total buzzkill.


OOC: *taking another sip

Teller|GM

Em wipes her forehead, not accomplishing much besides smearing her sheen of sweat around her face. "Hey. I'm heading back out there. Anyone coming? No?"

She shrugs and walks back into the throng of bodies, bobbing her head and jumping up and down violently, one hand in the air. Jake watches her leave - it's obvious which 'hottie' has his attention.


"So, Claire...." Molly says, opting to sit on the couch arm again instead of the seat Claire's just left open. "We're so doing this. Pick a hottie. You know, someone who makes you wanna..."


She makes an explicit noise, causing Jake in turn to make a face.


OOC: Give me an awareness roll if Claire's listening and looking around, or say if not and I'll end the post.

tubes|Slither

OOC: not

tubes|Slither

Claire takes another pull. Em was a snooty bitch, whatever. She takes a pull on her new drink, then almost coughs it up when Molly gets a little over-excited. Okay, so Claire's not sure if she's that fired up...

She takes another pull.


Maybe just as an academic exercise? Ugh, there were a ton of high-schoolers here. Claire wasn't that desperate. Or desperate at all. Right.


She could barely tell anyway, given that everyone was just kind of spazzing out in the crowd. She couldn't exactly go out and find someone. Regardless of how 'cute' she was, who was going to hang out with gimpy in the corner? Ugh. She appreciated Molly's enthusiasm, however misplaced.


Claire takes another drink. Okay, she was cool, but real villains knew their limits, right? Minions, or something. Something.


"I'm, uh, out of practice, if we're being honest." Errrrrr....Yeah, no, she didn't want to snag someone like Jake by accident. Molly had already helped Claire limp her crippled ass in here, maybe she could spare a little more help.

Teller|GM

"Excuses," Molly says. She brazenly takes Claire's drink out of her hand and takes a sip. "It's a party. Nobody's going to be looking for an Oscar-worthy performance."

tubes|Slither

Claire feels utterly betrayed, and snatches it back and takes her own sip.

"Oh yeah, everyone wants to come hang with gimpy in the corner. "

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll, please.

tubes|Slither

$roll 1d6+1 soc

$ tubes|Slither "soc" [3] +1 = 4

Teller|GM

"You could just, you know, go to them," Molly says. "Look."

There /are/ a few people that have been separated from the bouncing, thrashing herd. Someone lying on his back near the forklift, staring up at the ceiling, entranced. A guy resting on another couch nearby, taking a break from dancing. A girl sitting in the darkness near the shelves, mostly out of sight, nursing an entire bottle of alcohol by herself. A guy


behind the crates - oh, no, he's already making out with someone. Two people, actually.


"Or, I mean...I'm right here, and we're already swapping spit," Molly says with a flirtatious laugh. She steals the drink once again.

tubes|Slither

Woooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaah. Uhhhhhhh. Claire lets her keep the drink this time, mildly uncomfortable even through the intoxication. She wasn't feeling /that/ adventerous tonight. Even if Molly was old enough. Ugh, no, not going there. Not that it was WRONG, just, uh. Ugh. Whatever, supervillains did what they wanted.

Claire grabs the crutch and stands up. Fine. Whatever. She could find whatever she wanted. Totally. Okay, you know, just because she was a supervillain didn't mean she /couldn't/ have standards. Not that Molly didn't meat those standards, it was just, uh. Yeah. Fuck. She'd done this on purpose, hadn't she. Claire briefly glances at Molly beofre focusing back on...


That guy. Over there. The one sitting normally on the couch. Okay, she could do this. Slither could, anyway. Yeah, no, Slither was totally cool with being attractive. To anybody. Or something. Had she done that on purpose? Even if she had, okay, Slither was a supervillain who grabbed whoever she wanted. Molly had defintitely just tricked her into going over there, hadn't she.


Slither is never tricked. This was all on purpose. Totally. Claire limps over there, because she's a total badass who picks up whoever she wants. Totally.


"Not enjoying the dancing either?" Ah yes, no shit sherlock, he was clearly sitting here in the corner so he could expand his Pokemon collection.


Claire collapses on the couch, still prefering sitting and being embarassed to standing and embarsssed. Hopefully he would immediately make an excuse to leave so Molly could see what a pathetic mess she was. Fuck, her leg is sore. Fucking tinker legs. No, be cool. Chilling like a villan. Whatever. Fuck.


Claire needs another drink. Except Molly has her drink, and is over there. Fuck.

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll, please.

tubes|Slither

$roll 1d6+1 soc

$ tubes|Slither "soc" [6] +1 = 7

Teller|GM

Claire's foot is now uncomfortably warm, even beyond what she would expect from being inside a metal building on a warm night. It's like she just dipped it into a tub of hot water. What the-

She manages to ignore it, leaning into the couch and maybe not even coming off as pathetic. Maybe even coming off as cool?


"Nah, just resting some," the guy says. He looks college age, at least, and he's...well, not ugly. He looks Claire up and down, and then fixes his full attention on her. "Friends drag you here?"

tubes|Slither

Claire manages to ignore her magic robot leg. She'd known what she was getting in to, sort of-

Oh jeez this guy is talking to her. Paying attention to her, even. Claire is mildly flabbergasted at the fact that she wasn't immediately ditched, but tries to recover. Right, badass, confident, supervillain.


She gets a good look a him, and sure, he was no Benjamin-


Except...that made her feel a little better? He was...normal. Normal was good. Normal didn't involve...things...and certainly didn't involve Protectorate hit squads showing up. She could swing normal, probably.


Claire scootches a bit up to Mr. Normal, just making body contact.


"...Something like that." She says.


She doesn't even know what to do afterwards. 'BTW if you want to hook up, sorry if i kick you with my fucked up robot legs' Yeah, that would work. Fucking A.


God damn it, why did Molly have to steal her drink?

Teller|GM

"Mine too." The guy's black button up shirt feels nice. He looks surprised at the contact. Brown eyes blink at her. "Oh. Been, uh, drinking?"

She hears something familiar in his voice. Like the idea that she's been drinking is the only explanation for someone making contact with him. She's sure her voice has sounded like that before.

tubes|Slither

It would be dishonest to claim she hadn't had a few - there's no way Claire could be this bold otherwise - but Claire also hears the note in his voice and desperitely hopes Mr. Normal doesn't immediately pick up on how sloshed she is, decide she's a skank, and skedaddle. Fuck, she'd hadl...too much. Claired was kinda drunk. Not really drunk, but how often did she drink, really and now-

Oh, she was sitting next to, um, the guy.


Claire is too scared to spare a glance at Molly or Mr. Normal. Wait, shit, he'd asked her a question. Fucking...Shit, hell, ahhh-;


Claire clears her throat. Right, supervillains took whatever they wanted. Right.


"I, um, just...enough to convince myself to sit somewhere more interesting."


Was that cool? That was cool, right? Fuck no, it wasn't cool. Claire was sure she'd blown it.

Teller|GM

"Oh. Cool," Mr. Normal says, brightening some. "Kind of shitty of your friends to drag you party with a hurt leg then ditch you."

"I guess I'm glad they did, though," he adds, quietly enough that it nearly gets lost beneath the music.


"So. Interesting. Right," he says, mostly to himself. He clears his throat, then leans a little closer to Claire. "You wanted to talk? Or..."

tubes|Slither

Okay, don't get too exicited-

Still, it's some, well, any, really, attention is nice. The right kind of attention, anyway. This was the right kind of attention, right? Nobody had started yelling, anyway. Claire isn't really sure what to think. I mean, she's not really sure what to-, oh, he'd actually responded to her-


"Oh, um, it's been bad for a while...Not really anyone's fault..." Claire concedes.


"I, um, talking, yeah-" oh jeez, he was really close now, no, no no no, um, er-


Well, er, supervillains also got to go as quick or as slow as they wanted.


"I, um, well, am really thirsty? Before we talk?" Claire squeaks out, as he gets closer.


That wasn't too weird now, was it? She's suddenly not too sure about all this, er, physical contact.


It was fucking weird, wasn't it. Whatever. Supervillain. Supervillainesses had as many boy-toys as they wanted, right. She was just thirsty. And she could order her 'boy toys' to fetch drinks right? Right?


...Claire secretely hope the guy gets the message. She just needed a, a, a little breathing room, right? This was a lot to take in at once. And where the fuck was Superstition? This was her party, wasn't it? Or at least Molly? Claire grabs for her crutch, needing something solid to hang on to. So far so good?

Teller|GM

Good question. She sees Molly dancing with Em, the flying cape from earlier that has to be Brutal talking to the DJ...and there's Dark Reprise, hanging out near the entrance. No sign of Superstition.

"Sure, sure," Mr. Normal says quickly. He leans away from her and stands up. "I'll- I can grab you something."


He walks off, giving her the time and space to catch her breath.

tubes|Slither

Claire breathes out a sigh of relief. Not that it was his fault, at all. If anything, he's been exactly what she'd - asked? - for, but now that she was in the thick of it, it was too much, too fast.

Dark Reprise and Brutal would proabably know where their leader was, but would they share with Claire? Who knew?


Ugh, wouldn't that just turn into as big a mess as the last time she'd talked to Superstition? Non-power communication anyway. Hell.


No, she was here to have fun, right? Who cared about cape stuff? Well, I mean, she cared about cape stuff, but, only as much as she cared about anything else, right? Supervillains did what they wanted. And right now she just wanted to try and relax and have fun. Like Shakesphere would have wanted her to. What was the point of being a wanted criminal if you spent all your time moping around?


Right?


Claire breathes in through her mouth and out through her nose. Fun. Relax. Chill. Etc. She waits for Mr. Normal to comeback. He'd done nothing wrong, she'd done nothing wrong, and Claire would, well, maybe not get as crazy as Molly apparently wanted her to, but, well, she could at least try to do...something. See where the night took her. It's not like the day could get any worse.

Teller|GM

|

Teller|GM

"Here," Jade says, coming to a stop in front of a warehouse. The abandoned and rusty building is in the old Tong territory, near enough that it probably held shipments coming from the docks. Or maybe coming from the docks. Michael doesn't really know how all that works.

What he does know is that it's a pretty good place for a party. He can see some flashing lights coming from the side of the building and hear the low electronic music pulsing out from the building. Not especially good music, but loud enough for it to not matter that much.


Abby dangles from Michael's shoulders. She's a little heavier than last time, and a lot of her squishy parts have been replaced with metal that occasionally jabs him.


"Why's the party here?" she asks, directly into his left ear.

Mishie|Michael

It feels pretty weird to be back in his costume again, but considering the shit he went through last time he went to one of these parties Michael is more than willing to put up with how awkward the leather feels. Plus if he rocks up in one of the blackshirts then people might actually expect him to do shit or know what the fuck is going on.

"Probably because the last time they had one at the beach they had to deal with a gatecrasher. Plus this place is pretty fucking far away from anywhere the cops give a shit about."

Mishie|Michael

As Michael heads inside, he keeps an eye out for both Dark Reprise and that Slither chick that people kept talking about. She shouldn't be that hard to find if she has robobits or whatever.

Teller|GM

$roll 1d6+1 JA

$ Teller|GM "JA" [4] +1 = 5

Teller|GM

The entrance to the party turns out to be a half-open loading dock door around the side of the warehouse. Michael climbs inside easily, and Abby scamper up onto the short ledge without any trouble. Jade has to leap and pull herself up, but manages without any help. Probably for the best, since he's not sure how she'd react if he offered.

OOC: Wits roll, please, Mishie|Michael.

Mishie|Michael

$roll 1d6 Wits

$ Mishie|Michael "Wits" [6] = 6

Teller|GM

OOC: *scampers

Michael's hit by loud music and flashing lights as he steps inside. The expansive space of rusty metal and concrete still looks very much like the interior of a warehouse, with stacks of old crates spread around the floor, rows of tilted shelves in the back, and even a forklift in the corner.


The party looks to be concentrated near the center, with a throng of people dressed in dark clothing thrashing and jumping up and down beneath strobe lighting.


There are a few people and groups separate from the main one, sitting on old chairs and sofas at the edges of the light. There are also others hanging out in the darker areas of the building, taking advantage of the privacy of the crates.


He immediately spots Dark Reprise standing a little to the left of the doorway, making no effort to hide.


"Rah," she says unenthusiastically. Then, in a voice that's more normal but still tired, she says. "Hey."


He can't see anyone with robobits anywhere. Then again, Abby's robobits aren't on display either...

Teller|GM

OOC: Awareness roll please, tubes|Slither.

tubes|Slither

$roll 2h6 awareness

$ tubes|Slither "awareness" (5) [6] = 6

Teller|GM

OOC: You can go ahead and post, Mishie, I'll write after you're done.

Mishie|Michael

Glancing to the side to make sure that both Abby and Jade are still nearby, Michael just smiles at Dark Repise and moves over to the wall near her.

"Yo."

Teller|GM

$roll 1d6 JW

$ Teller|GM "JW" [5] = 5

Teller|GM

$roll 1d6 AW

$ Teller|GM "AW" [2] = 2

Teller|GM

Michael notes that Dark Reprise is leaning against the wall, using it to support herself rather than just casually leaning against it. Did her leg still hurt? He also notes that, while there's nobody with robolegs, there's a girl sitting on one of the couches and talking to a guy. A crutch is leaning against the side of the couch next to her, and she has on

tall black socks. Jade is looking in her direction as well.


Abby, however, is swiveling her head and craning her neck. "Where's the drinks? Oh, and is Molly here?"


"Both of 'em are over there," Dark Reprise points.


Claire, meanwhile, is just getting settled down with her next drink and Mr. Normal when she notes three newcomers ducking under the door into the warehouse. Some guy with long hair and a leather jacket, followed by Abby and Jade. They stop to talk with Dark Reprise...and now Jade is staring at her.

tubes|Slither

Claire gives a wave at Jade, but doesn't get up. Superstition had seemed paranoid about something (or everything, even), but it wasn't like she had any reason to hide from them, right? Unless the guy with the long hair was some kind of Protectrate plant or something, but if he was he wouldn't be hanging out Abby, right? I mean, she did just explode Nate, apparently.

That does make Claire a little nervous, given the very real possibility of meeting the same fate, but Abby had said they were cool, and it wasn't like she'd done anything worse since then. Presumably Nate had done something real douchy to deserve it, so there's that.


Still, she takes another sip of her drink, needing a little liquid fortification. She hadn't seen Abby or Jade in a couple of days, and a bunch of shit had happened between now and then.


Claire tries to relax, and takes another sip.

Mishie|Michael

When Abby mentions drinks, Michael looks down at her and puts a hand on her shoulder before she can run off to find her friend Molly.

"Yeah here's the new rule, you only get to drink when I do alright? We need to keep a clear head for shit tonight."


Jokes on her though, Michael has his own drinks at home and they're hidden too high up for her to find. Unless she climbs on the walls of course...

Mishie|Michael

"You guys want anything?"

Mishie|Michael

-||

"So you guys want me to grab anything? Or are we skipping to the other shit for tonight."

Teller|GM

OOC: Social please, Mishie|Michael.

Mishie|Michael

$roll 1d6-1 Social

$ Mishie|Michael "Social" [3] -1 = 2

Teller|GM

Abby glowers at Michael. "No rules. I drink whenever the hell I want to. Got it?"

Jade looks briefly between them, then waves back at Claire. "What's she got a crutch for?"


"S said one of her legs broke," Dark Reprise says. "She's been gimping around all day."


"Oh. That makes this easy," Jade says. She starts moving towards Claire.


"Oh, you...know her?" Mr. Normal asks Claire, trying and failing to sound cool about it. He seems concerned that there are children at the party, and that one of them is moving towards them.

tubes|Slither

This drink was much better than the one Molly had given her, and Claire is starting to feel loose. And less worried about...whatever it was she was worrying about. Not important probably.

Anyway, this party wasn't so bad, was it? Sure beat hobos with rusty knives. Why had she ever thought going with Snow White and her Jason-wannabe dwarf was a good idea? Oh, right, because they'd tracked her down with a precog. Who thought she was a serial killer too. This was way better. She takes another drink. Nobody was freaking out, and capes weren't busting through the ceiling with


a warrant for her arrest, so this is already turning out better than the rest of her day.


"Yeah," Claire says, "They're, er, an exception." She continues, trying to assuage his fears. She'd normally feel the same, but presumably anyone who hung around with Abby was probably not someone who took well to adult supervision. Didn't she just get this drink? Man, she needed to slow down a little. Ignoring her own advice, Claire takes another sip. Whatever. As long as she didn't get


blown up or thrown in jail, who cares what happens?

Mishie|Michael

Michael just nods along at Abby's glower, not wanting to push at what is apparently a surprisingly big issue with her.

"Fair enough, just wanted to help you pace yourself so you can enjoy the entire night. And hell, I legit find it more fun to drink with a friend than to drink alone, but you do you."

Teller|GM

"I /will/ do me," Abby says defiantly. Dark Reprise snorts noisily, which earns a glare from Abby before she stalks across the warehouse in search of alcohol.

"Well-" Mr. Normal starts, but trails off as Jade arrives in front of them. "Hi."


"Hi," Jade responds, but she's looking at Claire instead of him. "I heard you hurt your leg. Is it bad?"

tubes|Slither

"Hi Jade. Er, not sure. It just kinda locked up, and now it's spazzing out. Do you think Abby could look at it?"

Claire remembers Superstition's warning, but she's not really sure that it's of much use. I mean, she already /had/ bombs in her legs. To be blown up at any time. It's not like she could get MORE blown up. Whatever. Today had just been a little taste of how shitty things were before, and she's in no interest to go back. If Abby tried to screw her she'd...do something. Supervillainess,


totally badass, all that.


Claire takes another sip of her drink. Not like she had any plans to give anyone a reason to screw her over. It would be fairly sad that the closest thing she had to friends were two pre-teen girls, one of whom had threatened to blow up her up, but Claire specifically tries to avoid thinking about that. By taking another sip of her drink.

Teller|GM

$roll 1d6 MNK

$ Teller|GM "MNK" [3] = 3

Teller|GM

"Yeah, it's why we came," Jade says, crooking her finger at Claire to signal she should follow her.

Mr. Normal looks confused and a little disappointed. "What's wrong with your leg? Do you have to go somewhere?"

tubes|Slither

Claire grabs the crutch and works her way, somewhat unsteadily to her feet.

Woah, okay, alright. She was a little tipsy. Just a smidge. She manages to steady herself. She takes another swig out of the drink and leaves it on a table, mostly finished.


Oh, right, Mr. Normal. Well, she felt kinda bad for him, but the leg was obviously more important.


"Right, er, sorry. It's busted. Gonna get it fixed, supervillain stuff, you know?"


Oh wait, he didn't know. She didn't even know his name. Well, whatever.


"...Find me later? I'm Cl-Slither. Yeah, Slither." She corrects.


Claire was lame. Slither was in charge now. Time to get this leg fixed so she could go back to being badass, because she totally was. Claire moves to haphazardly follow Jade, as best she can.

Teller|GM

OOC: Your go if you want it, Mishie|Michael.

Mishie|Michael

As Abby stomps off, Michael just looks back at Dark Reprise and shrugs.

"So what do you think are the odds of this place being on fire by the end of the night? Because I'm pretty goddam sure that some sort of shenanigans are going to happen."

Teller|GM

"Nobody better set this fucking place on fire," Dark Reprise growls back. "Dealt with enough shit for today."

And now Jade and Claire are walking towards them, albeit slowly thanks to the latter's broken leg and tipsiness. Claire doesn't get to see Mr. Normal's reaction to the revelation that he's been hit on by a supervillain, only his brows knitted together as he processes what's going on. He'll put the pieces together.


"Abby will see you in a minute," Dark Reprise says to Claire. She then looks at Michael. "So, you guys planning on doing this shit in the middle of the dance floor, or are you taking her somewhere else?"

Mishie|Michael

And with Dark Reprise's words, Michael somehow died a little bit more on the inside. Apparently it was his job to plan out this goddam circus and figure out how he was going to get Abby to do surgery on a fucking supervillian. Fucking christ.

"Well since I'm pretty sure that you're not hiding surgical shit here, we'll probably bounce and just head back to my place to keep shit nice and simple. Although I should probably go and grab Abby before she gets too hammered."

Teller|GM

"Oh, right, 'cuz you got a surgical suite back at your place," Dark Reprise responds. He can't see her eyes rolling, but he can imagine it.

tubes|Slither

Claire stands there a little awkwardly, being the odd man out, and all. Well, there was Jade, but from what Claire could tell she was fine with sitting in the corner and being surly, or whatever.

Oh, right.


"Uh, Dark Reprise, right? Do you know where Superstition is at?" She needed to thank her, at least.


And tell her Claire was 'in'. Working legs and parties with nice people beat...Martha Stewart homes and hobos with rusty knives. She feels stupid for going with them, but they'd also made it very clear she was pretty much guaranteed to die if she hadn't...ugh, she'd almost forgotten about that. Well, apparently the future could change. Hopefully spending the night there was enough to avoid


getting blown up.


This line of thought was a total buzzkill, but Claire doesn't have another drink.


"Oh, and, uh, hi." She says to the dude in the leather jacket. "I don't think we've met. I'm...Slither, yeah." She was feeling more confident now with some liquid reinforcement. Sure, today hadn't been great but, well, she'd dodged the Protectorate and made it to party another day. That was something Shakesphere would have appreciated, isn't it?

Teller|GM

OOC: Hang on, Mishie.

OOC: tubes|Slither, want to describe Claire? And Horn Lord in the next post?

Mishie|Michael

OOC: np

tubes|Slither

Slither is a caucasian girl in her early twenties with dull blue eyes and brown hair cut short around her jawline. Her bangs are starting to get into her eyes. Her face is a bit too round and her chin a little too pointy to be really attractive, but she's got that relaxed expression that is the normal domain of the moderately drunk, and it helps even out her face. More noticably, she's

got three lines of bright-red facepaint on each side of her face running in diagonal stripes from right blelow her eyes to her jawline.


Her outfit is somewhat exaggerated. She's wearing a black-dyed denim jacket, a red blouse and skirt, which is longer than one might expect for a party like this, coming down around her knees. Tall black socks covering the entirety of her legs, bottomed out by some heavy black boots, complete the ensemble. She's leaning on a generic medical crutch in her left hand, the sort that wraps around


the forearm.

Teller|GM

OOC: ||?

Mishie|Michael

Michael on the other hand fits in disturbingly well at the party. Just some random white teenaged guy who should probably get a haircut, but just can't be fucked to go out and do it. He's still wearing his leather jacket and pants, although some of the holes in the pants are less artistic and more just from wear and tear, and he's pretty sure that he never

got around to fixing that hole that Abby shot in his jacket as well so that probably stands out pretty nicely. But despite the fact that he looks like shit, Michael still has an awkward grin on his face as he meets yet another crazy supervillianess.


"Cool shit, I'm Michael and it looks like I'm organizing this whole 'getting your legs fixed' shit, so uh, I'm gunna try and track down Abby to get shit moving."


And with that Michael bails from the new, probably crazy, chick and heads over to Abby.

Mishie|Michael

-||

Mishie|Michael

"Seriously, sorry to bail on you like this, but I'm pretty fucking sure that you want a soberish Abby for this shit."

Teller|GM

"Yeah, I'm Dark Reprise. No idea where S is," Dark Reprise says to Claire, with a shrug. She seems unconcerned. "She said she'd be here, but I haven't seen her."

Michael pushes his way through the crowd of people. Some guy yells something incoherent into his ear as he passes. He finds Abby sitting on the table next to the bottles, drinking from a red plastic cup and laughing at something that Molly's telling her.


"-and you drink it fast, before it spills out of their belly buttons," Molly says. "You can do it from other places too, but only when you're older."

tubes|Slither

Claire barely has time to process his confession before Michael wanders off through the crowd. I mean, yeah, obviously, she wanted a mostly sober Abby. Is that a normal concern? He was acting like it was a normal concern. Who was he, anyway? The babysitter?

Claire follows his path for a moment before turning back to Dark Reprise. Well, shit.


"Slither. Nice to meet you." Claire says by way of introduction. Shit stands there awkwardly for a moment. Oh jeez, she was going to have to make small talk while she sat here and waited for Abby to get back.


"Er, drat, I guess. I was hoping to talk to her. Like actually talk, and not-" Claire makes a vaguely mystical gesture. Wait, now she's rambling, right, this was her teammate, she'd probably get it. Awkward. Errrrrr. What did supervillains make small talk about?


Claire positions herself closer to the wall, a little more out of the way. Plus it gave her something to support herself on.


"Who's the, uh, babysitter?" She says, by way of conversation. Close enough to conversation, anyway.

Mishie|Michael

Notlikethis.

Holy fucking shit Michael has no clue why the fuck does Molly think any of what she's saying is a good idea, but what he does know is that Abby is probably loving every second of this circus. Hell if it weren't for the fact that he's doing all this shit to impress Dark Reprise, Michael would be /very/ happy to stay and talk about doing body shots with


Molly.


Luckily, Michael actually is smart enough to know when he's fucked up, and that trying to drag Abby away right now probably wouldn't end that well, so instead he just walks up next to the girls and grabs a drink of his own, giving the two of them a nod and hoping that he doesn't fuck it up.

Teller|GM

Claire notes that Dark Reprise is leaning against the wall for support as well.

"Drat?" The supervillainess laughs derisively and unpleasantly. "Yeah, gee golly darn, too bad she's not around. S 'll turn up, especially if she's watching you and just heard you're looking for her. Don't worry about it."


"Babysitter's just a guy who works for us," she adds.


Molly gives Michael a smile and a small wave of her fingers. Abby hops down off the table, grabbing another bottle of alcohol in her hand. "Is she ready for me to fix?"


She doesn't sound that angry, at least, and gives him a conspiratorial smile when she says the final word.

tubes|Slither

Well, that was rude. It was a...habit. An enforced one.

"Well, if you say so..." Claire says, trying to be polite, despite the other woman's attitude. She notes at Dark Reprise's wall-support and tries to make small talk again.


"...long day?"

Teller|GM

"Yeah, just these two bitches doing stupid shit near the highschool I had to fight," Dark Reprise says. "You can't miss them. Imagine two girls dressed like Molly, but with superpowers."

Mishie|Phone

"Yupe, it's your time to shine Abby, so lets get this shit sorted out."

Michael takes a moment to look around the party, not really seeing all that many private corners to do this in, but well, from what he's heard if anybody can find a quiet corner in a party, it would be Molly...


"Although it's your call if we do this shit here or somewhere else."

Teller|GM

Abby just shrugs and drains her cup and moves to follow Michael. "I dunno."

The warehouse is large, and most of it is shrouded in darkness. He sees that there's a few crates they could work behind, or over in the corner near the forklift, or the titled shelves could offer cover...


OOC: Is someone writing a post?

Mishie|Phone

OOC: Isn't tubes next?

Teller|GM

OOC: Yeah. Maybe he went to get tacos.

tubes|Slither

OOC: sorry, I did

Teller|GM

OOC: No problem, just wasn't sure.

tubes|Slither

Welll...that did sound pretty awful. New capes in town, apparently.

"Yeaaaaaah..." Claire says. "I had to dodge the Protectorate earlier..." since they were apparently comisserating.


"They dug through the fucking dumpster to find me... Seriously. Who does that? They're seriously going to dig through the dumpster to find me, instead of, I don't know, Big Bad? He killed a Dozen people last weekend!" She accidentally works herself up.

Mishie|Phone

Michael just shrugs, if Abby can do this shit anywhere then it isn't his problem.

Mishie|Phone

"Fair enough, we'll figure that shit out later."

Teller|GM

"Yeah, /fuck/ them," Dark Reprise says, suddenly and alarmingly vehement. She makes a fist at her side and hits the wall. "Just wait, Slither. I'm going to fuck up them all. They won't know what hit them."

Abby follows Michael back over to Dark Reprise and Claire, waving bye to Molly as she goes.

tubes|Slither

Claire is momentarily startled by the angry display, but, well, she definitely agrees. Claire knew as well as you could that you didn't get anything unless you took it for yourself, if these last two weeks (maybe the last year, even) had taught her anything.

Claire makes a noise of agreement, glad to have found common ground with the other supervillain. She leans back against the wall.


"They'll get theirs..." Claire mumbles, feeling the need for the wall for support, given her rapid drink consumption from earlier. Fuck em. God, fucking Shakesphere, why'd he have to go and bite it. She'd get sad again, except she already cried earlier. Fucking,...fuck.


"Fucking..., fuck." She echoes her thoughts.

Mishie|Phone

Well Michael had no fucking clue what he had missed, but he sure as shit knew that he liked what he was hearing.

"Well as fun as the mental image of you two fucking something is, I'm pretty sure you want to ditch that crutch and get back to having working legs again. You happy for Abby to do that shit here Slither or do you want to go somewhere else?"

tubes|Slither

Claire starts to be mildly offended at what is apparently 'the help' before he distracts her with talk of fixing her legs.

"Uh, whatever Abby says, I guess?" She's not the tinker, after all. Though she would like to actually talk to Abby first, if only to apparently dissaude her off of this 'SHE WILL LEAV BOMBS IN U" Thing. On top of the ones Claire has already got, apparently?

Teller|GM

"It won't be as messy as last time. We can just do it over there," Abby says carelessly, gesturing to some crates near the back of the warehouse. "Or outside."

Mishie|Phone

"Fuckit, since nobody actually cares where it gets done, lets just hijack a corner and get this shit finished so we can have some goddam fun."

tubes|Slither

Claire pretty much agrees. How long had it been since she'd danced, anyway? "I guess...pick a corner, Abby?"

Teller|GM

Abby looks around, then walks over to the crates she point out earlier. They're wooden and dusty, but they're stacked three high and will hide them all well enough if they crouch down. Jade follows, while Dark Reprise remains lingering near the door.

"Okay, sit down," she orders Claire, pointing to the floor. "Does anyone have light?"


Jade holds out a lighter and clicks it a few times. A small flame casts a dim orange-yellow light, a contrast to the flicking strobe lights to either side of their crate wall. It's not much illumination, but Abby seems satisfied with it.

Mishie|Phone

Michael is actually pretty torn about what to do next. On the one hand it would be nice to chill with Dark Reprise next to the wall, buuuuut even Michael knows that Abby would love a chance to show off her Tinkering to an audience.

And considering how he's pretty sure that keeping Abby happy is still his job, Michael ends up leaning against the crates to watch.

tubes|Slither

Tinkering with just a lighter for light? Was that alright? I mean, it WAS tinkertech, so it's not like anyone actually knew. Whatever.

More importantly...shit, this was going to be awkward.


Claire sits as ordered.


"Abby, um, I know, well, I, um, haven't really done a whole lot to warrant it, but I don't suppose you could, well, er...take the bombs out? Or, er, downsize them?"


She'd managed to spit that out. Claire braces herself against reprisal? A failsafe in your own tech made sense, but, uh, she really didn't want to end up like Nate. And she was here letting her Tinker of her own accord, right? It wasn't like Clair had anywhere else to go.

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll, please, tubes|Slither.

OOC: Nvm.

Mishie|Michael

"Yeah uh, I'm not exactly an expert on all this shit because I don't get told dick, but I'm pretty sure that those bombs were there because of the whole 'being in the Brotherhood and trying to kidnap people' thing you had going on."

Michael pauses for a moment and scratches his chin as he tries to remember the shit that Superstition had mentioned earlier about Slither, something about some think tank?


"And apparently after that shit you tried to join a cult or something? So no offense but it kinda feel a bit risky for Abby to just take a leap of faith y'know?"

Teller|GM

OOC: You can respond if you want, tubes|Slither.

tubes|Slither

ell, I, um, haven't really done a whole lot to warrant it, but I don't suppose you co

OOC: oops


Wait, who the fuck was this guy, again? The fucking babysitter or some shit? What the fuck did he know? Why the fuck was he talking shit? Why could she not avoid CONSTANTLY runing into fucking douchebags? Seriously, what the fuck? Did she kill someone's dog on accident? Was she some kind of mass murderer in a past life?


"Yeah, well, the Brotherhood is sure doing fucking great these days, isn't it?" She snaps at him. Fuck, and she'd been having fun. Obviously, she didn't deserve fun, not even 30 seconds of it.


"MAYBE, I just want to be able to get some fucking CLOTHES without worrying about my fucking legs exploding and getting thrown in the Birdcage? Is that too much to ask for? I was trying to find fucking Superstition so I could, could..." Claire trails off. Fuck, Superstition was trying to make her gang sound like the chill one. And they employed douchenozzles like this? Whatever, fuck it.


If they fucked with her, she'd kill them all.


All the fight goes out of her. She'd actually managed to have fun for an hour, and now she gets the spanish inquistion on whether or not they should, fucking, blow her up. Fuck it.


"Whatever. Never mind. Forget I asked." She chunks the crutch into a random corner, now that she's sitting. Was this the price she had to pay to fucking not deal with that bullshit? Was it worth it?


...Probably. Claire can't imagine she's long for freedom, so what does it reallyh matter, how many deals with the devil she makes? She tries to pull off her boot and roll down her sock on the gimped leg.


Fucking Shakesphere.

Teller|GM

Abby looks taken aback, then her expression turns angry. "I WAS going to take the bombs out of your legs, you - you ungrateful cunt. And, and, AND, I'm doing you a favor to fix your legs for free, and you're screaming at me!"

"Fuck you!" Her voice gets higher. "Maybe I should just...turn your legs off and leave you here!"

Mishie|Michael

Well apparently the migraine that Michael had managed to get rid of earlier was now back, because all Michael wanted to do was just rest his head in his hands and let out the sigh to end all fucking sighs.

Instead, Michael just looks at the unopened drink in his hand, and despite how much this situation is making him want to just chug it the fuck down so he can just ignore all this bullshit, he just passes it to Slither instead.

Mishie|Michael

"Look, how about we just calm the shit down, I'm know I'm not the best with words or whatever so sorry for touching a sore point or whatever. Just... Just give us something to work with to trust you alright? It might not mean much to you but as long as you don't fuck this thing up for us I wont let you get exploded. That cool?"

tubes|Slither

Claire is suddenly flabbergasted as Abby gets pissed; she'd beem talking to the 'babysitter', wouldn't that be the last person in the world Abby likes? Fuck, why couldn't she do anything right? Now Abby was all pissed, and Claire is stammering, not knowing how to respond.

"No, I, um, please- I wasn't trying-," and Wow-ee, here was mighty supervillain Slither, begging with a preteen, and-


Wait, now the 'babysitter' was talking, and well- He was saying something calm?


Claire is even less sure how to respond to that, especially the proffered drink, which she takes, somewhat bewildered.


"I don't, um- I, um," she stammers, as she processes his words. Fuck, she couldn't do anything right, why would anyone believe her to begin with?


Claire opens the drink and takes a shaky sip, trying to reclaim her bravado for the umpteenth time today.


"No...no, you're right, I-I-," I am fucking retarded? I need a belt-fed machine gun to keep up with how often I shoot myself in the foot? Why would anyone trust her? She didn't even trust herself.


Having a drink in hand helps her steady herself a little, even if it is a shitty beer.


"I, um, sorry...," she starts off, somewhat lamely, "It's been a long day, days, even. I don't, um, want to fuck anything up, for, um, you guys. Th-The cult thing was, um, a moment of weakness, and, I-I-"


I don't have any friends? The only possible friends i've made since triggering are people i've tried to kidnap? Yep. Fuck, maybe a meteor would come through the roof and kill her now.


"...please don't leave me here. I-I, I can't, really give you anything" she mumbles out the last bit. Well, she'd fucked everything else up. Fantastic. Might as well fuck this up too and get fucking blown up. Hell.

Teller|GM

OOC: Social roll please, Mishie|Michael.

Mishie|Michael

$roll 1d6-1 Social

$ Mishie|Michael "Social" [2] -1 = 1

Teller|GM

Abby gives Michael a look that suggests she's pissed off at him, and he has no idea why. Without saying anything she kneels down and starts digging around under Claire's skirt. Jade helpfully holds the lighter closer.

There's no way for Claire to feel dignified about this, especially not sitting on the floor of a warehouse. Abby has shoved her legs apart and is doing something with the machinery at her hips, hands and face very much in her personal space. At least when they did this at the Keepers' HQ she could sort of pretend she was the doctor's.


"Stay still," Abby snaps, even though Claire hasn't moved. She feels sharp metal fingers digging into her flesh.

Mishie|Michael

And of-fucking-course fixing the shit with Slither makes Abby mad. Fucking typical for how today has gone for Michael.

Mishie|Michael

At this point though, Michael's done his job so he's just going to sit back and relax.

tubes|Slither

Claire does as she's told, though she is deeply uncomfortable at the two pre-teen girls digging around under her skirt. All her vaguely supervillanous plans are gone at this point, and she just wants to be able to walk. And apologize to Abby, who presumably would not be taking out the bombs. That would be Superstition's warning in effect, anyway.

Well, she'd tried, and Claire had managed to fuck it up anyway. The 'babysitter' is still weirding her out, but, well, he'd given her a drink, so he couldn't be that bad, right? Speaking of which, she takes another pull from what she'd been given earlier. Not like she could fix any of her disasterous party arraingments now.

Teller|GM

Abby ducks out from under her skirt after a few minutes, wires and small metal parts held in one fist. With her other hand, fingers little more than a rapid blur, she pulls off the boot and sock on her good foot. It's with a lot less care than Claire would have shown her newly stolen costume, too.

Claire can see what she's doing now that she's working on her knees and feet, though she doesn't understand it. Her fingers are sharp points, prying at the casing on each of the parts to expose their innards, mechanical and biological, veins and tubing, screw-gears and muscle. Her index finger glows bright red, and Claire can feel the heat radiating it off


of it. She's using it to weld, or solder, or something. It brushes up against her skin a few times; she's not sure it's entirely accidental.


Strange sensations run up and down her legs as Abby works, fleeting phantom sensations and temperatures. Body parts twitch seemingly at random, but the movements seems to mean something to the Tinker.


Finally, her legs are still. She can feel the concrete floor beneath both of them. Abby places the covers back on, hiding the guts of her creation once against. The entire thing takes about thirty minutes, though it certainly feels much longer.


"There," Abby says, rising to her feet. She stills has a fistful of leftover bloody components and wires in her left hand, but otherwise the area is surprisingly neat. "Try standing."


OOC: *still has

Teller|GM

OOC: *radiating off of it

Mishie|Michael

Whilst Abby was busy doing the actual work, Michael was doing what he did best. Making sure to keep an eye out for anybody trying to sneak a look at what Abby was doing under Slither's dress, plus grabbing a few drinks for him, Jade and Slither to enjoy whilst they waited for Abby to finish.

Teller|GM

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