Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
These are your prelude stories. Most of you will experience your first Transformation inside of them. We won’t be using dice, and these shouldn’t go more than 10 posts at most. If you want to do a thing and it’s within your character’s ability to do, you do that thing. All these events are assumed to have happened roughly one week before the actual story starts.
Respond in spoiler tags if you would, that should make tracking them easier. Ask me if you have any confusion or questions.
All OOC text will be in ((parenthesis)). I tend to like to include music in games, so I'll be linking to some periodically. You can assume unless I say otherwise it's all work/humanity safe. If it doesn't really do anything for you, let me know and I'll cut it out.
In Sleep He Sang to Me - Shirley/jamieth
You’ve had this dream before, but you never figure out what it is until it’s over.
You stand in an extravagant ballroom, vague shapes of people clustered all around, a sea of fine suits and dresses of an archaic style from somewhere in the 1800s. Tables and other furniture little the room, somewhere in the corner a band has just ceased to play a string of music you can’t quite remember, and a hush has fallen across the audience. Next to you stands a man in striking detail, his face unique among the washed-out colors of the masses. He wears something more of common stock, heavy coat and a suit in less vivid color. His features, however, are much more dignified, as is the wooden pipe tucked between his lips.
“-and that, my dear Watson, is how he was able to place the knife at the scene of the murder.” As Mr. Holmes speaks a pair of modern day English bobbies are zip-tying another gentleman’s hands behind his back, preparing to cart him away. “Of course,” The detective continues smoothly, “He couldn’t have done it without a bit of help, could he, Moriarty?”
A gasp runs through the crowd, and bodies part to reveal another man in fine, dark apparel. This one is also, unlike the crowds, fairly distinct. His mouth opens to offer his rebuttal-And nothing comes out. Something should. You’re sure of it. The crowd is still silent, the music still dead. Something feels wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
There’s a sickening crack and a huge chunk of the wall is ripped asunder. What lies beyond is a kaleidoscope of images, landscapes, ideas, senses, and sounds, a dozen different realities that stretch on forever. From that chasm comes the beast, a hulking and vaguely humanoid figure of ebony black. In one massive clawed hand it clutches a writhing mass of bodies, screaming figures that, like Holmes and Moriarty, are strikingly real amidst the cloudy backdrop. “This isn’t right,” Holmes murmurs, his hand going for the pistol in his coat. “Something is wrong. This isn’t supposed to be here.”
And he’s right. This is very wrong. You’re not sure why yet, but you know it is. While you’re realizing that, the other hand of the creature is coming straight for you.
What does Shirley do? You are, obviously, in a dream. Though your character is not fully aware of such, dream logic does apply. So, if you want to pull a rocket launcher from under the table or something, feel free.
To Save the World - Kim/Mechanix
It hasn't even been a full day since the incident. You haven't had a lot of time to think about it, but there's no way you dreamed this up. You're different now. You're transformed, stronger, better. When you sleep your dream begins to change, hazy clouds of thought crystallizing into something more firm. You're moving through a door. Through a palace. Through-No. Wait.
You jolt awake. The smell of smoke is thick in the air, and muffled voices can be heard outside of the window. Outside things are burning. The whole neighborhood is burning. Houses along down the block are ablaze, flames licking over roofs and lawns. The sounds of fire alarms have begun to filter through the rest of the noise. The fire hasn’t reached your house yet, but it’s coming.
Two things become immediately visible upon further inspection. In one of the homes across the street there’s a figure in an open window, flames wreathed all around. The rest of the house is ablaze, several people gathered on the street below in a panic. The second thing is also fairly concerning: A man dressed in heavy looking black clothing is moving down the middle of the street, with lighter in one hand and what looks like a shotgun in the other. The thing is, the light is blazing almost like a torch, flames flickering high above it, more fire than it should ever possibly be able to give off.
The sound of your parents banging at the door fills the room. They’re shouting, frantic, calling for you to get out of the house.
What does Kim do?
I Need a Hero - Erin Watson/sun_tzu
You ran late at the library. There was a meeting, several people to talk to, books to read. You must have lost track of time, since the sun is already sinking below the horizon. The parking lot is mostly empty, a lone few cars remaining. The bus stop is a short walk down the road, streetlights providing dull illumination along the sidewalk. A few cars roll past, rumbling to a stop at nearby lights, bathing the streets in fluorescent whites.
There’s something rising over the sound of engines. Sharp cries of distress from somewhere near the back of the parking lot, where the lighting is too poor to make out clearly. Muffled shouts, figures moving in the dark. They become clearer at a closer distance, or given time to adjust to the lighting.
There are two larger figures menacing a smaller, cornering it back against one of the cars. Both are fairly large men, rough looking, clustered around a young man. Sprawled across the food of the car next to her is another figure, an older woman, still and unmoving.
“Now we know you’re holding out on us,” You can hear one of them say, “Come on, give it up.”
Marisol Ruis is someone that Nerissa has known for quite a while. While not necessarily best friends, their parents have known each other for years, and occasionally she’s shared her concerns whenever she and Nerissa had been together. Which had been frequently, over the past few weeks. She’d always been bullied and school, but it seemed to have been worse lately, and her reaction to it increasingly distressful.
The last conversation they had was the most concerning. Marisol’d asked what things would be like if she wasn’t around, and other less than happy thoughts. It seemed like she’d calmed down by the end of the conversation, but that might not have been the case. A few hours ago Nerissa received a voice message from the girl, thanking her for listening to her problems, and carrying a general note of finality. The last thing she said was that she was going to the Coronado Bridge to think.
By the time Nerissa is about halfway across she’ll spot the other girl. Marisol seems to be in conversation with another woman, an older looking person dressed in drab colors. They must have just finished speaking, since the younger girl is turning away. Then she starts doing something concerning. She stares down at the ocean 200 feet below for a minute, and then she begins to climb the railing.
((What does Nerissa do?))
Death Masks - Mia Hendrix / Regalus
Mia’s been at work in the gymnasium for what must be hours. Schools is long since out, the rest of the team has gone home, but nobody has arrived to pick her up yet. So, there’s nothing left to do but keep practicing. They left the lights on at least, and a few staff are still around, but they seem to have largely forgotten the presence of students. So she’s left to her own devices.
Then something strange happens. The lights flicker once, the electrical generators making a brief, pained groan. A second time, and then all of the regular lights go out. There are, however, the emergency blubs high overhead. They cast the gym in a pale white light, illuminating patches here and there.
There’s something by the door. A person. Maybe. It’s a blob of darkness, wasn’t there just a second before. She didn’t hear the door open either. It’s face is covered by a mask of white, an oval shield that’s trained on the girl. It starts to move toward her. Slowly, but it is.
Go back to sleep, her mind and body told her. Just don't bother. The fire won't come here anyway.[ But that was insane, so she shook off that thought, coming down to earth. Painfullly.
Oh god the neighborhood was on fire. What was she supposed to do? Escape, of course. What else could anyone do? Jump out of the window and stop that man with the lighter, was the first thing that came to her, but that was insane too. She had no idea what was going on, only that it was wrong.
She glanced around her, looking for the bow she'd been offerred as a present to reward her athletic success. Just one of the oh so many precious things she couldn't bear to abandon should the fire come to her house... Yet she had to choose; so she took the bow.
She turned back from the window and went to the door to unlock it. Whoever this man wit the strange lighter was, she wouldn't let him go. She was going to bolt toward the street and keep that man with lighter from running away.
Even in her panic, she half-realized that this was madness. But it wouldn't stop her.
"Oh God." She didn't say it out loud, but she thought it. Erin watched the scene unfold before her, frozen in place...Then forced herself to close her eyes and take a deep breath to calm down. Panic wouldn't help anyone. Taking a few steps back to keep herself out of earshot, she pulled out her cell phone, dialing 911. "...a mugging...corner between the street of..."
But even as she finished calling the police, her anxiety only grew. How long until the cops arrived, especially in this part of town? The rate of patrol men to citizens being what it was, statistically, odds were that none would be close enough to intervene before...before what? How far would this go? And how long before something irreversible happened? Someone should...Should do what? This wasn't an action movie. She couldn't get into a fight with these guys and fight them off! Rally the crowd? Oh, like hell. That would take even longer than waiting for the cops.
But...if she could at least gain some TIME, that would help, no? She stepped toward the thugs. "Excuse me...Is something wrong?"
To her own surprise, the first thing Shirley feels upon meeting the abomination isn't fear, nor anything of the kind; instead, it is an annoyance. There goes Knox's Second... Still, it registeres somewhere in the back of her mind that Holmes, while surprised - shocked even - by the... thing's appearance, obviously knows something about it.
Meanwhile, as the husk launches its attack, Shirley leaps away instinctively, keeping herself both away from the monster's claws and the detective's line of fire, her mind focused on two things: one, what is Moriarti doing, and two, is there something that can be useful against the creature... A chandelier, perhaps... It is a ballroom, after all, there have to be chandeliers! Of course, running away is also an option... No, it isn't. If I run now, I'll never know what was that thing!
Kim’s parents are frantic, pushing her along once the door is opening, though the fact that she’s actively moving for the door seems to reassure them enough. They have the presence of mind to snag a fire extinguisher and a few valuables of their own, darting in to salvage what they can after they push her out of the house and into the street. They don’t seem to have noticed the man with the weapon walking down it, only that the fire is moving rapidly toward them.
Something new is coming out on the street, though. From one of the burning houses a dark figure emerges, just a blur of shadow that races across the sidewalk and slams into the man with the weapon. A flash of light catches it, and Kim can see it’s another man. A man with claws. They both go down, rolling, flailing, the gun fires once into the air.
In the background people are yelling for help, clustered at the bottom of the house across the street. Someone’s daughter is still stuck at the top, the door wreathed in flames, no escape in sight.
((Just to note, if it wasn’t completely clear, this is AFTER your blossoming. So you can transform, if you’d like to. At the moment nobody is really watching you. Also, you have a choice. You can either take action against the two people in the street, or you can go save the little girl. You’ll have to move past the fight taking place, so you could do something while you do that, but you might draw unwanted attention.))
I Need a Hero / Erin
That probably isn’t the right thing to say, but it is something. When she draws closer she can see things that darkness concealed before: The limp, battered body of the older woman, the streaks of blood that mat the face of the young man being thrown down against the street. The thug that was stepping forward to pick him up again abruptly stops, and then both turn toward Erin.
“Who the hell are you?” The one nearest the girl speaks up, his eyes flickering over her. “You think this is any of your business?” He takes a menacing step forward, moving to block the view of the other pair.
In Sleep He Sang To Me / Shirley
Sherlock does seem to know at least one thing, if nothing else: this thing needs to go. Several shots are fired from an archaic looking revolver at the monster, all of them puncturing its dark body to no apparent effect. “Holmes,” He calls sharply, “I’d like you to remember how you got here!” Which could be a trick, because Shirley, if she things about it, has no concrete memory. Logically, this should not be.
Moriarti is just as baffled as Sherlock himself. He, however, has an entirely different reaction. He’s staring blankly at the hole, past the monster, out into the mad panorama beyond. He’s saying something, but it can’t be heard. Then he starts walking to the hole, blatantly ignoring the creature.
In the meantime, there’s a conveniently fallen chandelier with several chunks broken off that’s right next to her. Which could come in handy, since that huge fist is rapidly approaching.
((Shirley may be starting to get the idea this isn't entirely real. It is, however, entirely dangerous and wrong.))
Are they...? Just how badly did they hurt them?! Erin could feel herself getting angry. How dare they...No. Stay calm. You need to save those two, and losing control won't help.
She took another step forward, trying to appear a lot more confidant than she really was. "In case you couldn't hear, I've already called 911. How long exactly do you think you have until actual cops show here, with actual guns?" Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the thugs. "Scram if you want to live."
Her words bring an ugly laugh to the laugh of the two men, both sharing a glance before the one closest to her takes another step forward. "Oh, really? I think it's going to be the other way around, little girl." One meaty hand stretches out, grabbing Erin by the collar. The other raises up into the air, clearly intending to strike what would be a powerful blow.
((you were right to mention it, I was unsure as to wether it was after or before))
Danger everywhere, fire burning the houses and threatening people, and those two weird persons fighting in the middle of it... She hadn't become a Champion by slowly pondering the ins and outs of a problem for hours at end; it seemed clear to her that whoever those people were, they were responsible for this senseless destruction. Rage surged inside her, and she itched to fall upon them with staff and armor and blow them away without mercy...
But that wasn't how she did things. Not without mercy. Not when there were innocents in danger. She swallowed her anger and bitterness, and took her eyes of the fighting pair - then twisted out of her parent's view, rushing to the trapped girl.
No time for subtelty and disguise, no time for silly girl's play of dual identities and such. With a flare of her inner light, she summoned her Regalia - her fingers tightening around the reassuring handle of the Device.
She ran straight past the two fighting figures, paying them no more heed, and went to the door. She would enter that building and save that girl if it was the last thing she did.
((I'm paying two Wisps, one to transform reflexively and another to load the Levinbolt, and run toward the house)
Nerissa panted as her feet slapped against the pavement, cursing herself for not being much of a runner. But even though her lungs were burning and her legs felt like they were going to fall off, she wasn't stopping. Not when Marisol's life was in jeopardy. Kid's really could be cruel. She got a taste of it growing up -- and even now sometimes -- thanks to her weight. She was a bit heavier than most girls, but wore it well. Still, it didn't stop the more vain types from teasing her. Nerissa luckily had enough socially-motivated confidence to shake off their jibes. But Marisol wasn't so lucky.
And now, as she got up to the bridge, completely out of a breath, she saw the tormented girl in the distance. Someone else was there, and for a brief moment Nerissa breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps whomever it was did their best to coax her from harming herself. Though that all went out the window when Marisol started climbing the railing. She gasped, taking off again, ignoring how tired she was. She could rest when Marisol wasn't teetering on the brink of a horrible death.
"Marisol!" She called as she got closer. "It's Nerissa! I'm here! Get down, please!"
Mia blinked twice, adjusting her eyes to the dimmer room's lighting, sure that they had been playing tricks on her; she couldn't actually be staring at a blob right?
"Okay, I'll give you props for being patient enough to set this all up; but you can lay off the creep factor, you're not getting much of a rise out of me. So take off the mask and let's call it a day, k?" she said in a chipper tone as she made her way towards her bag rather swiftly; trying not to hint at the chill going own her spine, or that she could practically hear her father's old lectures repeating in her head. She had a bad feeling about this.
The men and the thing he wrestles with also pay little mind to the girl that goes flying past them, no matter how strangely she's dressed. Out of the corner of Kim's eye she can see a flash of red, and an inhuman scream after. Then she's past it, and moving toward the house.
As she bursts through the flaming door of the house she finds everything ablaze, from floor to ceiling, flame consuming the path to the stairs. Up on the second floor she can find the child alone in a ring of flames, still in front of the window.
To get through to her and out of the house, though, that might hurt.
((Don't worry about spending things. Mechanics are out the window for now.))
Me and Gravity
The girl on the rail pauses. She seems to waver for a second, her gaze turning back. Her eyes linger on Narissa, her fingers tightening her grip on the railing.
The woman beside her makes a quizzical glance over in the same direction, her head making an avian sort of cant over at the girl running over. She says something, it can't be heard at this distance.
Marisol responds to it though. He resolve seems to tighten, her gaze turning toward the water again. Another few inches closer.
((Feel free to Blossom at any time. You can wait until you get her off the rail and deliver an emotional speech, or do it right now to do whatever else..))
It's not moving slow anymore. As soon as she begins to go for the bag the shadow lunges, elongating as it goes, becoming almost snake-like as it barrels forward. In an instant it's in front of her, the human-shaped mask staring unwaveringly. There are eye holes in it, though only darkness behind.
There's a hole for a mouth, too. Out of that comes a long, jagged blade that slashes forward toward the girl.
Mia yipes as she ducks out of the way, narrowly avoiding the blade as it passes over her hair before bolting towards the nearest exit like a bat out of hell; making sure to reach for the nearest blunt instrument on her way out. Not good, not good; this is seven different fruity flavors of not good. The hell is that thing!?
How did I came here? Shirley tries to remember, still backing from the moster, but the outcome is fuzzy. There is no apparent way she COULD be in a place like that... wait. [i]WHAT is this place? It shouldn't exist in the first place; judging by what's visible through the hole in the wall, it breaks all the laws of geology... almost like it's a dream. But it can't be; it feels so real... TOO real actually. It's like an alibi that's too concrete... they're always false.
She throws the metal pieces - some still holding the burning candles - in the monster's face, one after the other, more to distract than actually expecting to hurt it; after all, even bullets a ineffective; but at the samу time, she kicks the main body of the chandelier in front of the creature. Hopefully, it would make him lose his balance, giving her time enough to ask a question... "This is a dream, right? But, it's also real, and dangerous, and if we die here..."
Oh crap oh crap oh crap NO. CALM DOWN. Don't let the bastards win. Doing her best not to panic, Erin raised both hands to simultaneously slap them against the ears of the thug holding her, with the goal of putting extremely painful pressure on his eardrums...while simultaneously kneeing him in the crotch.
Which left the matter of the one about to slam her with a haymaker. She tried to brace herself for the incoming impact.
After all, she couldn't let evil win.
It wasn't the way things ought to happen.
Evil had to be defeated. Talked down if possible, taken down swiftly otherwise. And someone had to do it.
Of course, evil usually won...but that wasn't the way things should be. Not the way she would allow them to be. Not as far as she could help it.
And as she felt that powerful surge of conviction, it was almost as if she channeling it, wielding it to block the impact. Wait, where had all the light come from? Why...Why were her clothes feeling so different? And what was it with that weird staff? New intuitions were already in place, telling her things...
((Spending one Wisp on quickened transformation as she blossoms, and one on Holy Shield if possible...I think she can only spend one Wisp per turn?
If possible, she uses the Acqua Invocation for her Barrier Jacket. If not, it still adds one dot of Armor.
Not sure if I should roll anything for her attack on the first thug...?))
Fire everywhere. For a second, she direly regretted not having learned the Charm that would have made her barrier jacket fire-proof. Nonetheless, she had to make do with what she had.
"Stand back! I'm coming to help you!" she shouted to the girl. I know the Invocation of water. I don't know how useful it's going to be against actual fire, but it's a start. And the blasting power of my Levinbolt can send enemies flying yards away; it should be able to blow out some flames, at least temporarily.
She swallowed, tightened her grip on the Device; blue energy gathered in front of the staff, an orb of energy imbued with the power of the Queen of Diamonds. She shouted loudly and unleashed a salvo of energy beams upon the fire that blocked her path - then ran straight-on into it.
((as you can guess, I'm using the Acqua Invocation and shooting at the flames, hoping it has some sort of effect on them))
Definitely not human, that’s for sure. The blob once again follows, making a mad rush behind the fleeing gymnast. Once again it changes, and it literally breaks apart, passing on either side of her before it appears in front of her again. This time other parts of the shifting shape begin to change, forming into long tendrils that write and lash forward, aiming to enfold her in their grip. It’s mouth elongates now, the mask stretching and drooping down as its jaw unhinges.
A voice comes from it, clarion clear and high.
“A tattering of rain and then the reign.
Of pour and pouring-down and down.
Where in the westward gathered the filming gown.
Of grey and clouding weakness, and, in the mane.”
Mia can find a baton lying around, though that probably won’t do too well against this thing.
((Blossom at your leisure.))
In Sleep He Sang To Me
The giant hand of beast sways several chunks aside, though one manages to scorch it’s demonic face, causing the thing to reel backward. In the meantime Moriarty is still staring. Slowly, he takes a step. Shirley may realize that if this a dream, and those are other dreams, letting him run free in them may be a bad idea.
“I think that’s an accurate deduction.” That’s Sherlock’s note. “But so are all those others.” He points to the people trapped in the grip of the creature. Shirley senses something else, then. While this scene plays out in her mind’s eye, she’s dimly aware of another. She’s in her room, laying in her bed. Waking up, though, seems to be fairly difficult.
Then again, if she did wake up she’d be leaving all of those screaming, suffering people to their fate. The monster lunges forward again, tearing more chunks of floor away, it’s huge face coming down toward Shirley, as if it intends to swallow her whole.
((Blossom at your leisure. You can either try and kill the big monster and save all the dreamers, or stop Moriarty from leaving. Doing both is probably not possible.))
I Need a Hero
The thug that grabbed Erin reels back, stunned for a moment. The other one, though, he decides to make her pay for it. That heavy fist comes down in a sharp arc, and the impact is there, but it doesn’t actually HURT. At all.
The flash of light causes momentary confusion, the man faltering for a second. “What the hell?” Then a second blow comes, two hands this time.
The boy that was being attacked has crawled and stumbled to the side of the older woman in the meantime, shaking her frantically, though his bloody face turns up in shock at the flash of light and the transformation of the girl that came to his rescue. He just stares blankly, unable to do anything to help.
((No rolls or mechanical concerns during preludes. If you write that you blast one of the thugs, that’s what happens.))
To Save the World
Chunks of the floor are torn up, a few things collapse, but there is a clearer path now. There's still enough to make it hurt, but not enough that she catches flame on the way, only feels the searing heat and pain for a moment before she's beside the child at the window.
"Help! Please!" The little girl instantly rushes toward her, throwing herself against the Princess, clinging tight. With the hole in the floor getting out might not be that much of an issue, if Kim is willing to take the plunge and then go for the door after that. There's also the window, or a long path back down the stairs.
The warmth that went to Kim's heart as the little girl clung to her had nothing to do with the fire around her. But they were not out of trouble yet, far from it. Jumping through the window, while perhaps possible for the Princess she was, would put the girl in danger. The stairs were perhaps safer, but with every passing second the building was closer to simply crumbling down on them. She had to go for the quickest escape route.
"Hold on to me, darling," she said in as reassuring a voice as she could. "We're gonna have to hurry."
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the girl in her arm and plunged through the hole, rushing toward the door. If anything got in her way, she would try and blast it away again.
Again, more fire. This time hotter, more painful, scarring and dancing across Kim’s skin as she rushes through it. Just a few seconds, and then she’s out the door into the dry night air. The little girl is unharmed, the Princess having shielded her from the pain of the fire. She flees to the arms of her mother waiting in front of the house, the woman promptly scooping her up and weeping in joy. The others gathered around either stare at Kim or offer their heartfelt thanks, some moving to hug her despite how strangely she’s attired.
And she can see, back in the street, the man with the shotgun. He’s bent and bleeding, but standing. The other thing is now. It’s no longer human, but it retains the same sort of shape. Half of its head is missing, and part of it is on fire. Wherever flames touch flesh is peeling away, revealing emaciated, black skin underneath.
Kim can see him turn, and even from several yards distance it’s clear that he’s looking at HER. He stays like that for just a second more, and then he tosses the lighter down on to the dead husk and turns to move away. In seconds he’s vanished into the flames.
She smiled despite the pain, happy to have done what she could to help. But she could not truly be satisfied; not when she'd seen the man she was sure was responsible for this horror escape. She might have saved one girl, but she had failed to bring justice to the victims. She excused herself and ducked to avoid those who were trying to hug her, and went swiftly to the thing that lay on the ground. She had seen its claws and black skin and... Could it have been a Darkspawn? She need to know. More importantly, she needed to find that lighter the man had thrown, and pick it up. Maybe she could use it as a clue to find that man. Because if one thing was sure, it was that she was going to find him.
My name is Erin Watson, and this situation has just turned more surrealistic than an illustrated guide to quantum mechanics drawn by Salvadore Dali.
I can feel this...power of hope? Power of Light? Something like that. And this...this science-fictional staff in my hands...I just KNOW what it does. I know it can knock this evildoer on his ass. I know how much force it will exert, what form the impact will take place. Enough to hurt him. Not enough to kill him, or even maim him. Exactly what I need.
Of course I'm not going to use it. I'm NOT going to use an untested weapon on some guy, even if he's a douchebag - for all I know, maybe my sudden knowledge is all wrong and this thing could rip him to shreds.
But I still need him GONE.
Raising her Boomstaff up in the sky, Erin sent a blast of pure luminous energy skyward. "RUN, SCUM OF THE EARTH! RUN, OR FACE MY POWER, WEAK LITTLE HUMAN!" Hopefully, criminals really ARE a cowardly, superstitious lot. Don't fail me now, Batman.
((of course, Shirley isn't much of a fighter when Transformed, either...))
Shirley quickly weighs the situation; while letting Moriarty escape would be a bad thing for sure, there's simply a more pressing matter at hand... even though it's one she isn't really qualified to deal with. What should I do? What CAN I do? Then, she notices one thing; the way monster is positioned, it won't take much of a push to throw it completely off-balance... of course, "much push" is relative to the target's size - on the other hand, jujutsu is the style that favors speed and technique over size and weight. With newly gained confidence, she ducks under the monster's head and rushes forward, with intent to slam into one of its' legs...
And then, something clicks in her mind, and she sees the world around her with crystal clarity, almost as in a slow motion; and her previous idea of "push it off-balance" turns into a detailed calculation of the optimal point for applying the force, and the added twist required to maximize the effect... (and she even has some spare time to appreciate the outfit she suddenly finds herself wearing - it is so similar to what she got when she once tried to imagine herself in Holmes' place... except the current one is much more elegant, somehow. Well, it IS a dream... so she dismisses it as no more weird than dreams in which one suddenly finds herself undressed... and much less unpleasant.)
As for Moriarty... no matter where he runs, she thinks with certainty that surprises herself, we'll finf him anyway. I'll find him.
((The idea of experiencing the fight in bullet-time is taken, of course, from Downey Jr.'s version of Holmes, though I'm not sure whether Shirley actually saw it; she's more into classic interpretation.))
The man is gone, and the corpse won’t last much longer. Fire consumes it eagerly, leaving only ash behind. The lighter is there too, tarnished silver that’s been dropped in the ashes. If she fishes it out she’ll find several intricate designs traced across it, mostly ornamental. Carved into the bottom is something else:
When Kim returns to her parents they will be frantic with worry, but welcome her home. The crowd loses sight of her too, and it becomes merely talk and rumor amongst the neighborhood. For now, things are quiet.
((And that’s your prelude! You’ll have to wait for everyone else to finish theirs, but it shouldn’t take too long.))
I Need a Hero
They do flee. They hesitate for a second, but they’re simple thugs, not very smart. The light show isn’t what they were prepared for, and neither are willing to get killed for an extra wallet. So the one that had attacked Erin begins to sprint in the opposite direction, while the one she’d hurt earlier scrambles to his feet, stumbling off into the dark.
The boy leaning against the car is staring after them, his mother still unmoving. She’s unconscious, breathing at least, but not in good shape. With more time to focus Erin can notice that she’s seen him before, somewhere at school. He lunges off the car, reaches out his hands to grasp at the girl. “What are you doing?” His voice is thick with anger and pain, “They’re getting away! Do something! Shoot them!”
In Sleep He Sang to Me
Moriarty takes one step, and then he’s gone, into the swirling chaos. The monster looms overhead, several more bullets tearing small holes in it even as Shirley moves below it. When she strikes it the thing wobbles, letting out a cry as it begins to go crashing to the floor. People move out of the way in a great hurry, and Shirley probably will want to do that too.
Tiles crack when the weight of it hit the floor, and it seems momentarily stunned. Long enough that she could deliver some sort of blow to it, hopefully a final one.
Erin blinked. "I want to," she said truthfully, "but first things first. She may need first aid," she said as she knelt next to the injured woman, checking out her state. "I've already called the cops. You call an ambulance." I may only have the basics of first aid, but...I think I can do better than I would under normal condition. I think I can be...smarter? More efficient? If I play my cards right, maybe I can make sure she's safe and still have time to get those *******s...
((Erin is using Practical Magic to improve her first aid to the woman. If she sees she'll be fine, or that there's nothing Erin can do, she'll resume the chase. If not, she'll focus on doing what little she can until the professionals arrives.))
Erin hated letting those thugs get away...she really really did. But to fight those who hurt the innocent without concern for the actual fate of the innocent would have been utterly irrational. Swallowing back her righteous anger, she focused on stabilizing the poor woman.
It takes some work, she's been cut and beaten viciously, but Erin manages to stop her condition from worsening. The boy hovers over her while she works, and she can feel the anger and pain that radiates from him. He looks like he might go after them himself, but concern for his mother keeps him rooted to the spot more than anything else.
Several minutes later the sound of sirens begin to sound through the street. A police car arrives first, and a ambulance shortly after. Erin has time to slip away before then, should she choose.
Erin hesitated. Should I go with them? They're the lawful authorities. But...I don't think this is really the sort of situation they're designed to handle, either. But that doesn't mean I should hide this sort of thing from...OK, Erin. Look. You can decide to go to the police, or you can decide to keep it a secret, but either way, you should probably make that decision AFTER you've had some time to think. So, for now, no committing to either option.
She looked at the boy. "Stay with her," she said, gesturing at his mother, "she'll need love and care more than ever in the following weeks." With that, she turned away, preferring to leave before the police got there to ask questions.
The boy and his mother are left in the dim streetlights, their faces soon bathed in sharp blues and reds. The mother is carted away in the ambulance, the boy detained to answer questions. He stares off at her as she leaves, blood and tear stained face contorted into something pathetic.
Then all of it's gone from sight, and she's off on her way.
Spotting the Thing giving chase Mia put the pedal to the medal as hard as she could; only to gasp in shock as the damned Thing broke apart and reformed in front of her. Eyes widening in horror even as her brain orders her body to stop and turn away from the grotesque metamorphosis taking place before her.
Mia officially had no idea what was going on, or what she was even dealing with. This thing, whatever it was wanted to end her that much was clear; damn thing could shapeshift and was now reciting poetry at her. Moreover it was far, far faster than she could ever hope to be. Worse still, she was alone. She had no way to escape the thing; it was obvious it had only let things come this far because it was toying with her.
For the briefest moment part of her considered just stopping rather than just turning around; maybe it would end quickly, maybe she shouldn't keep fighting this abomination. Not like she had the strength to. Maybe it was for the best...Like hell it is! she reprimanded herself as she steeled her resolve. She couldn't do that, she wouldn't do that; and she sure as well wasn't going to let herself get offed by a tentacle monster without a fight!
The young gymnast felt something stir within her as the tendrils came within range; it was like a bolt of lightning had shot through her body from the inside out. She felt an almost indescribable lightness to her body as she leaped backwards; her body seemingly moving by impulse as adrenaline and wonder took hold of her. Hardly noticing the set of ten cards that had appeared in her hands, or when she had tossed them all at the creature
It wasn't until after she her new sneakers squeaked against the gymnasium floor, and she felt the foreign weight upon her body that her mind finally caught up to her; even less sure now of what had just happened than before.
Feel like I should summarize her turn, though I know it's not necessary for the prelude; though it seems like good practice for once the campaign formally commences.
Basically this would've been her paying a Willpower to increase her defense, paying a 1 Wisp to reactively transform; before moving away from the creature, possibly invoking Aria via Celestial Dance, and then doing a medium autofire Burst with her Levinbolt Charm at the creature.
Rolling out from beneath a falling husk, Shirley grabs a particularly sharp piece of a chandelier; for a brief moment, she considers stabbing the monster's heart - that is, assuminng it's heart is in the same place as the humans' - or brain, but decides against it; who knows what kind of reflexive convulsions that might cause? Instead, she thrusts the spike into crature's arm, hoping that stopping the blood supply to its hand would cause it to release the grasp of its' prisoners. That's what is most important now, after all.