<Harry|GM> ...
4:34 PM Damian's life had seemingly shattered beneath his feet, much like the ice of the frozen lake where he triggered, barely two days ago. He'd felt an instinct, and that instinct betrayed him, destroyed the hopes he had for stability in his life. He had to flee from his house, and take the first train to Normal, Illinois, hoping he wouldn't be recognized.
4:34 PM → Kippyster joined (uid183276@charlton.irccloud.com)
4:34 PM <Harry|GM> Normal, together with Bloomington - the other city in the metropolitan area, virtually merged to it - was far from being as populous as Chicago, and didn't have its own Protectorate headquarters. This didn't mean the city didn't have its cape scene; it merely meant that it was, perhaps, more fragmented. Nonetheless, as Damian knew, if one knew where to search, it was probably easy enough to find the meeting place for local villains.
4:34 PM Nowhere else to go, really, not with the blood on his hands leaving life as a villain as the only plausible option. All he had to do, with little left to lose, was go to the shadier parts of town and make himself visible, and ask. He got a few stares, some advice that sounded awfully like threats, but a woman told him what he needed to know. It was a place called "Syncope", and it was not far.
4:34 PM  From the outside, it looked like a pub, with a neon sign in red and blue, sketching the lines of a human heart. Outside the door, a bouncer with the thickest arms Damian had ever seen, and a waif-like, sharp-chinned, woman in a black bodysuit and black full-face mask, with a downwards-facing blue triangle on her flat chest.
4:35 PM ||
4:37 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
4:48 PM Damian pulled his coat around him, ducking his head to try and bury himself in the fur coat. He had boosted it on his way out of town, to stay warm on the train, but it wasn't working. The chill seemed to go bone deep. He had only slipped partway into the frozen water before he somehow used his power to scramble out, but something about the cold stuck with him, even days later. It was like he was still on that lake, his thoughts nothing but
4:48 PM ice and blood and water. 'You have to move on. Keep going.' He was so wrapped up in trying NOT to think about something, that he almost walked right past the bar. He stopped suddenly, right in front of the bouncer and woman who was obviously a cape. Damian adjusted the big tinted goggles on his face, hoping his makeshift "costume" would serve to get him the door. 'I don't have anywhere else to go.' He looked back and forth between the two,
4:48 PM not sure who to talk to. So he just started talking. "I'm Glass House." They wouldn't ask for ID right? "Can I-" No, bad idea. "I want in."||
4:49 PM <Harry|GM> ...
4:51 PM Telloff → Teller
4:57 PM <Harry|GM> The bouncer and the waif-like cape were distractedly chit-chatting when Damian approached them. They stopped, listened to Damian's introduction and request. The bouncer exchanged a glance with the woman, then simply asked her: "You know him?" She pondered for a few seconds and replied "Not off the top of my head. Let me double-check."
4:58 PM She took a smartphone out of her pocket, and searched for something online, in awkward silence. She shook her head. "Can't find anything with that name. Maybe he's new?" The bouncer grunted - in agreement? - and told Damian: "Show us what you can do first, kid." ||
4:58 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
5:10 PM → Spellspin (was Spel|Zeitheist) joined
5:15 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> Damian felt a moment of completely irrational panic as the woman pulled out a phone to look him up. But it's not like she had his real name. She wouldn't find out what he had done, that there were people looking for him. He had come up with his cape name on the train, as he shivered his way to sleep. This was the first time he had told anyone. 'At least they didn't laugh at me.' Damian took a step back, using his power for only the second
5:15 PM time in front of people, hoping desperately that he wouldn't mess up, or worse, accidentally hurt someone. Glowing strands of a weird, glass-like substance streamed from his fingertips, and he connected them to each other to form a tiny hollow, polyhedral sphere that slowly inflated until it was about the size of a snowball. Then, with just a thought, he turned the hollow wire-frame ball into an angular ball of glass panes. He carefully
5:15 PM placed it down at his feet, then stepped over to where the bouncer and the cape woman stood, before making the ball shatter inwards into a pile of razor sharp shards. "I can do more, once the shards degrade back into little strands. And I can make structures too." He almost kept talking, but he had pretty much reached the limit of his knowledge. He didn't want anyone to realize just how new he was, but he didn't want them to think his power
5:15 PM was weak either.||
5:19 PM <Harry|GM> ...
5:30 PM The bouncer stood with his arms crossed and hummed in a way that could be interpreted as something along the lines of 'well, would you look at that'. An amused smile spread on the cape's lips, before she offered her hand to Damian to shake. "Interesting power. Welcome to Syncope, Glass House. I'm Vertex." she introduced herself, with a thin smile, shaking Damian's hand weakly.
5:30 PM She grinned, and made a gesture with her other hand, almost theatrical, and a shower of small luminous blue equilateral triangles erupted from her palm, floating and twirling in midair somewhat like snowflakes slowed down. A few merged with each other to form diamond shapes, or bigger triangles, or a tetrahedron.
5:30 PM She snapped her fingers, and the lightshow ended, everything dissipating into thin air, her smile still plastered on her face as she looked at Glass House searching for a reaction.
5:30 PM The bouncer rolled his eyes and gestured Glass House to come inside.||
5:35 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
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5:46 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> Damian's eye's widen behind the goggles. He had never really been into the cape thing, back when he was normal, but it was still impressive up close. He wondered what the triangles would actually do if they hit something. But then again, it was probably better that he never find out. "That's pretty cool. Nice to meet you, Vertex." He had to stop himself from calling her Miss Vertex. Standing in front of a bar made him feel like a kid. He
5:46 PM stepped inside, past the bouncer, but paused in the doorway, turning back to Vertex. She seemed nice, and wasn't quite sure if the rest of the villains would be too. "I'm uh, looking for work. Not sure who to ask."||
5:48 PM <Harry|GM> ...
5:52 PM "Oh, it's easy enough. Go to the back and ask to see the corkboard. That's where people post various kinds of requests - the ones that aren't best kept away from the eyes of rivals and the like, I'm sure you understand." Vertex replied, almost cheerily. ||
5:53 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
5:56 PM "Yeah. Of course." Damian had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but apparently she thought he would. That meant he was passing. They thought he belonged here. 'It's a start.' "Thanks for the help." Damian walked into the bar, taking note of the other capes in the room, and making a beeline for the corkboard. He was a little desperate to know what was available. He was worried that he would have no choice but to keep hurting
5:56 PM people with his power if he wanted to survive. If that was true, he could at least hope for jobs where he wouldn't have to hurt innocent people. 'Maybe I'm being naive. If villains were nice, they wouldn't be villains.' But it was too late to turn back now. there was nothing to turn back to.||
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6:01 PM <Harry|GM> ...
6:05 PM → Nonagon joined (Nonagon@net-gqp.lod.218.47.IP)
6:23 PM <Harry|GM> Nearly everyone in the pub was in costume, save for what looked like a waiter, busy bringing peanuts to a creepy-looking tinker who sat alone at a table in a corner of the bar, and a scared-looking, mousy cleaning lady who was mopping up a foul-smelling liquid off the floor.
6:23 PM The barista herself seemed to be a cape, a brown-skinned woman with her face draped in black and white garments that looked like a bizarre crossover between formal clothing, a burqa and something a nun would wear. Her nametag read 'Hello, I'm Rhetor'.
6:23 PM Behind her, on the wall, hung a very large painting, depicting a woman made out of colourful shapes on a black background, bringing a finger to her lips in a hushing gesture.
6:23 PM Next to another wall, roughly in the middle of the path from the entrance to the area where the corkboard must have been located, was a stand. Behind it stood another cape, dressed like some king or noble, in black and gold clothes with slightly puffy sleeve and a matching Venetian mask.
6:24 PM At the very back of the place, a cape clad pretty much entirely in skin-tight black guarded a locked glass box on the wall, which was mirrored, making it impossible to see what might be inside without opening it. ||
6:28 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
6:40 PM Damian's eye's dart around the room, taking in the various capes and the strange looking barista. It wasn't exactly a friendly atmosphere, but it was also the first bar that Damian had ever set foot in. He was tempted to  go to the bar and buy a drink with the little bit of money in his pocket, just for the thrill. That's what he would have done, before the powers and his new life on the run. But he didn't want to be even a little drunk in
6:40 PM a place like this. He walked back towards the cork board on the wall, looking at the noble-type cape standing in the path as he walked by. He couldn't be sure who would want to mess him. Maybe this place worked like jail, and people would pick on someone to assert dominance. At least that's what he heard prison was like. He just hoped these people would leave him alone, at least until he got to the board.||
6:42 PM <Harry|GM> ...
6:44 PM FaustAndAbout → Faustus
6:48 PM <Harry|GM> When Glasshouse passed next to the stand, the regal-looking cape immediately started talking in a salesman-like voice: "Hi, would you be interested in participating in a tournament? We pay handsomely just for participation, and there's quite the prize for the lucky winner!" ||
6:50 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
6:52 PM Damian stops in his tracks, looking back and forth between the board and the cape. Screw whatever shady crime was happening, a tournament sounded way easier. "A tournament? What, like a Bloodsport, fight to death kind of tournament?" If they were paying people just to sign up, there had to be catch.||
6:57 PM Ryneron → Ryneron|sleep, soulpelt|sleep → soulpelt|
7:01 PM <Harry|GM> The regal-looking cape made a 'so-so' gesture with one hand. "Not to the /death/, or well, at least we officially advise participants against killing each other. The community tends to harbor grudges, if someone's friend gets a Chicago overcoat. Plus, we've got the means to stop everything if things go awry, I assure you." He pointed to himself and smiled thinly. Almost smugly.
7:01 PM "Don't worry too much about injures, by the way. I made a deal with Syringe, she'll patch you up afterwards. Just, you know, as long as you're salvageable." ||
7:03 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
7:08 PM A combination of the cape's wording about friends and Chicago, and the fact that they were talking about sanctioned bloodletting gave Damian a queasy recollection of his trigger event and everything that followed. He shoved it down. "And I get paid for signing up?" Better than having to rob a bank. The only person who would get hurt would be him, or some other villain who signed up to fight. Perfect. "I'm in."||
7:17 PM <Harry|GM> ...
7:18 PM "You get paid for participating, when the tournament's over, yes. Perfect, just a signature then." He offered Glasshouse a pen and a sheet of paper with the signatures of the other participants - their cape names - and pointed to the slot where Glasshouse would need to write his.
7:18 PM The sheet signed, he took it back and read it. "Alright, welcome aboard... Glasshouse. I'm Sovereign." He, too, offered a handshake. "By the way, the tournament's starting in three hours. The arena's just downstairs." ||
7:21 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
7:27 PM → Thaydean (was ThAyFK) joined
7:31 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> Damian had to wonder what the point of putting a signature down with a cape name was, but he wasn't about to start asking questions. He scribbled downs Glass House in a messy cursive. "Thanks, Sovereign." He shook the man's hand. Three hours. He had some time to mingle then. Maybe even try and enjoy the place. 'If I might die in a bar, I should at least have a drink.' Underage drinking would be the least of his crimes. He looked back at the
7:31 PM bar. One beer wouldn't get him drunk, right? Not for three hours. And it would definitely relax him. "I'll see you downstairs." Damian walked up to the bar, holding up his hand to get the barista's attention. He dug a ratty 5 dollar bill out of his pocket. "Hi...Rhetor," he said, reading the nametag. "Let me have the best beer I can get for a 5." May as well live a little. And a beer would probably help dull the sound of cracking ice, still
7:31 PM echoing in his head.||
7:34 PM Thaydean → Thay|GM, Spellspin → Spel|Zeitheist
7:38 PM <Harry|GM> ...
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8:05 PM <Harry|GM> $roll 1d6+[1]
8:05 PM <[ATM]> ATM Harry|GM "+[1]" [2]  = 2
8:05 PM <Harry|GM> (social, too late)
8:07 PM (Rerolling because I fucked up by using the brackets)
8:07 PM $1d6+1 social
8:07 PM $roll 1d6+1 social
8:07 PM <[ATM]> ATM Harry|GM "social" [3] +1 = 4
8:10 PM <Harry|GM> Rhetor peered at Glass House through the slit of her facial garments, silently took the five dollar bill and put it in the register, before lowering herself and grabbing a brown glass bottle of Racer 5 beer, which she then opened and expertly poured into a slender, curvy beer glass, with a good amount of foam on top.
8:10 PM A boy, a bit older than Damian himself and a few inches taller, entered the pub in the meantime. He was built like a model, muscular and fairly chiseled, with a conventionally attractive face that looked oddly familiar to Damian, as if he was a famous actor whose name he couldn't quite place.
8:10 PM He was wearing no mask, which was puzzling; he only wore what looked like skintight black leggings and an equally tight-fitting shiny red lycra shirt, highlighting his physique.  This meant he turned quite a few eyes to himself the moment he stepped in. Some glared, others whistled or saluted him.
8:10 PM Then he set his eyes on Damian himself and cocked his head to the side a fraction, before sitting at the bar right next to him and ordering a bitter-smelling cocktail. After some awkward staring, he asked Glass House: "First time you come here? You seem a bit on edge." The tone of his voice was sympathetic. (Rolled Social) ||
8:13 PM Sidezero → Side|GM, vanderhuge → van|Nameless
8:16 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
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8:30 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> Damian took a moment to take a long sip of beer. He had had crappy beers at high school parties before, but this was far better. Smooth, but not watered down. This could be one benefit to the villain lifestyle. If he made it through the tournament. He turned his head to follow the new arrival to the bar. He looked flashy. He definitely drew attention. Which is why Damian wasn't too pleased when he sat down next to him. He didn't want to
8:30 PM draw attention at all. He definitely didn't want anyone drawing attention to how new and unsure of himself he was at this bar. "Yeah," Damian mumbled. But he didn't want to offend the guy. "I'm Glass House." He stuck a hand out.||
8:33 PM <Harry|GM> ...
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8:46 PM <Harry|GM> $roll 1d6+1 social
8:46 PM <[ATM]> ATM Harry|GM "social" [5] +1 = 6
8:48 PM ⇐ Pink quit (Pink@net-vqhtj6.dyn.optonline.net) Ping timeout: 181 seconds
8:53 PM <Harry|GM> The flashy-looking cape shook Glass House's hand with a decidedly strong grip, before introducing himself: "I'm Zaptrap." He finished his drink, making a bit of a face with each strong-tasting sip. A few seconds of silence later, he spoke again: "So, you said you're new. Let me venture a guess: you're not from here." He smiled a bit.
8:53 PM "It's alright. Basically all of us have something we're fleeing from. The past, consequences, the law, you name it. And a lot of us aren't as calm and collected as they present themselves as. Trust me on that one." He offered a frail smile. ||
8:54 PM Pinkhair → Pink
8:54 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
9:00 PM "Nice to meet you Zaptrap." Damian paused before he continued, disguising it as another long sip of his beer. This guy was pretty friendly. And even if he was gonna be a villain, he would have to get to know people at some point. "Yeah, I just got into town. Trying to find work without drawing a whole bunch of attention." He took another quick sip. "Guess you're not worried about that though. Not even wearing a mask, I mean."||
9:03 PM <Harry|GM> ...
9:05 PM "It's hard to stay on the down-low. Odds are very high someone's going to notice you, unless you're the kind of person who never gets out of a lab or a call center or you're a particularly elusive Stranger or something. But yeah, at least I get not to give a fuck about people knowing what my face looks like. It's kind of freeing. That's the nice part about my power." ||
9:07 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
9:09 PM "Yeah," Damian mumbled, as Zaptrap told him how hard it would be to stay quiet. "That's what I'm afraid of." He looked a Zaptrap's face more closely. "What do you mean? I can see your face just fine right now?"||
9:10 PM <Harry|GM> ...
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9:20 PM <Harry|GM> Zaptrap laughed a bit to himself. "I'll show you what I mean if you promise not to freak out." Then his flesh started to shift, as if he was a wax statue being massaged and reshaped by a thousand invisible hands.
9:20 PM In a fraction of a second he crudely resembled an adult woman with a more slim physique, but, instead of settling into its new shape and adding details, he kept shifting, looking now like a twiggy girl, then a boy with a thin but athletic build, before gaining mass and definition again to return to the statuesque male body he was displaying earlier. ||
9:22 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
9:27 PM Thaliaway → Thalia
9:29 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> "Okay, that's pretty damn cool." Damian was finally starting to relax. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe the coolness of being a cape was finally starting to settle in. Either way. "So you're one of those elusive Strangers you were talking about. I'm guessing, with a power like that, you're not gonna join the tournament, huh?"||
9:37 PM <Harry|GM> ...
9:38 PM "If I don't remember incorrectly, I'm... Stranger, Changer, I think a few others. Bit of a mix." he replied. "Well, actually, I did sign up for the tournament. Let's say I've got a couple more aces up my sleeve. I'm probably going to get fucked by one of the folks with scarier or more versatile powers, but, whatever. It's fairly easy money." he said, shrugging. Zaptrap guessed Glasshouse was asking because he had joined himself, but didn't ask.
9:40 PM ||
9:40 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
9:42 PM → TheShadow joined (uid257097@stonehaven.irccloud.com)
9:49 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> "Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for, easy money. Need to get on my feet." He looked at Zaptrap. He seemed like a nice guy. "I hope I don't have to fuck you up." He would though, if it came down to it. He looked at his beer and kept drinking. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to get to know this guy too well. He didn't want to have to hurt another friend. "Anyway, nice meeting you." Damian went back to drinking in silence.||
9:52 PM <Harry|GM> ...
9:59 PM Zaptrap nodded and, having finished his drink, stood up and left, with a slight frown. He'd hoped to continue the conversation, but, oh well. He didn't want to insist.
9:59 PM Time passed and, at some point, people started arriving. Civilians, non-capes, in droves. Some in punk-wear or street-wear, others well-dressed, many in unremarkable clothes. A rare few had their faces concealed by masks - they were checked one by one by the bouncer, then let inside. Everyone, guided by Sovereign and a couple other capes, headed straight for the staircase that led to the underground arena. The time was drawing near. ||
10:01 PM <Opt|GlassHouse> ...
10:08 PM Damian felt kinda bad about giving the guy the cold shoulder, but it was probably for the best. Better to feel a little shitty now instead of feeling way shittier later. He finished the last of his beer and stood, moving with the crowd towards the underground arena. The beer mixed with the anxiety in the pit of his stomach, but it was at least a momentary distraction from the nagging guilt and memory of cracking ice. He descended the
10:08 PM staircase.||