Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation[Worm/Exalted][Hiatus]

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 7, 2015

I've been having trouble writing extended pieces, and a while ago Biigoh suggested that I try a quest. This is my first quest, and I hope it goes well.
=====
Your name is Theo Anders.

And you're pretty sure that you're dying.

Things had been looking up. Your father, Max Anders -CEO of MedHall- aka Kaiser -Leader of the neo-Nazi Organization Empire Eighty-Eight- had pretty much started ignoring you, and from the rumors around the building, was actively trying for children from your maternal cousins. Which freed up a lot of time to spend with Aster, your little half-sister, and her mother Kayden.

Kayden... She was alright, still no replacement for your long dead mother, Heith, or your Aunt Sharon. But Aster was your light in the darkness, so innocent. And cute, despite the lingering period of time in which she looked like a water logged doll.

Though, you muse as your life blood seeps out onto the floor, so would you if you had spent nine months in an aquatic environment. Also known as Kayden's womb. You kinda didn't want to think about you mother figure's vagoo, but she wasn't your biological mother and she was girl-next-door-is-a-lingerie-model level of beautiful, if you were honest with yourself.

You had also started making some inroads on getting close to the girl you liked. Sure, Gwen was a Nazi, sure, she was Rune, but she had run away from her parents in a bout of teenage rebellion, and you didn't disagree with everything your father espoused(It helped that, much like your father, leggy athletic blondes really did it for you, with petite yet incredibly hot brunettes as a close second). You had been toning down Gwen's blatant racism and making arguments for simple folkism. And her Uncle James, aka Krieg, was encouraging the relationship as it would tie his family into the Imperial one.

All of that considered, you're not sure if you would consider that as heartwarming and, well, good, as knowing that without a doubt your father loved you. Actually cared about you. Was somewhat proud of you. Sure, he wished that you were a bit more athletic and masculine, but you were quite the scholar, and he could find no fault in that.

Of course, he was babbling this to you in between screaming in absolute desperation for Victor and Othala to come heal you and for someone to call 911. And praying to the Christ-God or any of the Old Gods that might listen. Personally you hoped that Ullr (the Glorious One, who watched over quiet acts of glory, you think that you might qualify), Tyr (Lord of Swords, God of Valor, and the Lawgiver, certainly it was valorous to stand against hate) might take notice of you if the Christ-God didn't, otherwise you hoped that the Lady Hel would welcome you warmly to Helheim.

You had gotten into a fairly intellectual debate with your father, something of a rarity, but made a misstep somewhere and he exploded in rage, resulting in two blades piercing your chest.

Anyways, you didn't want to die with the knowledge that your father loved you, and the Gwen might go out on a date with you if you asked her. Might! You wanted to experience that date. With any luck experience what happens after good dates with appreciative girls! You were going to fight this petty thing called dying.

And now you were getting cold, and the world greyed out. You were losing to Death.

"Do you wish to live, Theodore Anders? A gift looks for a return, Theodore Anders. Would you trade away your name for power and service?"

A voice spoke out in the greyed out world, shadows coalescing into a shape reminiscent of -

[] The Pope - The Bishop of Chalcedony Thurible

[] An *ahem* irreverently dressed, beautiful beyond words woman that happen to hit all of your buttons. If there was enough blood in your body to support such a thing, you would be physically aroused. - The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears

[] A huge man clad in spiked armor - The First and Forsaken Lion

[] An ethereally beautiful (black) woman clad in a feathered cloak with a bird's head as a hood. Is she the shadowed half of Lady Hel? -The Princess Magnificent with Lips of Coral and Robes of Black Feathers aka the Black Heron

======

Let's all hope this goes well. I think it might be nice to have some outside 'help' like this. Though I'm no Gromweld or a Sojiko or even a Tanuki.

Edit: Since I forgot to save a post for such things:

Index Omakes Rules, include XP gain ruling Character Sheet Equipment/Personal Resources Experience Costs and Training Times Charm wishlists/Training plans/Custom Charms

1- Birth By Death
2- The Offer
3- Recovery
4- Bigger, Better, Faster
5- Top of Death
6- Thunderstruck
07- Loving the Lover
08- Dumbstruck
09- Persian Pretties
10- Apologies and Dates
11- You Got Your Right to Party
12- Triumphant Impressions
13- Deflecting Discussion
14- Panty Party
15- Names & Mysteries
16- Finding and Saving Friends
17- Rebuke
18- Florence Nightingale Syndrome
19- Shots Fired
20- Politicking
21- Escort Service
22- Goodnights
23- Very Good Nights
24- Early Christmas
25- Xmas with the Fam

Extras:
Worldbuilding prt 1
Worldbuilding prt 2
Worldbuilding prt 3
Resonance and Dooms
State of the Empire circa Exaltation

XP Sheet

[NSFW] Naughty Omakes for Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation
evildice's A Triumphant Misunderstanding
Biigoh's Rose Red and Elsewhere
Biigoh's Emma
Biigoh's The Musician
Skitzyfrenic's Lunar Waifu
Skitzyfrenic's The Unconquered Stallion
First Rule of Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation! This is for fun, for me, for you, for your dog.

Rule jr.: This is currently still a SFW quest. While sex, gore, torture, and other such things will be joked about, mentioned, etc., it should never be particularly explicit or receive undue amounts of time to dwell on those subjects. Follow QQ rules on this. If my writing has strayed over the board rules, let me know. If we can't contain our lusts and we must slake them, I'll see about getting the quest moved to the appropriate NSFW section.

Rule in the 3rd: Be polite! QQ is a pretty chill board, so I don't expect it to be a problem.

Rule the IV: Narrative is King. This is far more an exercise in interactive storytelling than one in storytelling and mechanics. Not everything is going to get a roll, sometimes Theo will get an auto succeed or an auto botch, other times I will actually break out 13d10 and roll each one.

The Fifth Ruling: XP gains! All XP gained for a snip will be posted at the bottom of the snip, and Theo's banked/earned XP will be listed on his sheet.
-Each non-worldbuilding snip is, after 'The Offer,' given 2-6 XP based off of length and content. An example: A short snip where something major happens would earn 3 or 4 XP as would a longer snip where nothing really happens, but the story is moved a little bit along. A 6XP post is going to likely be fairly lengthy and have several major things happening in it. A post will always earn at least 2xp.
-Omakes/Fanart are worth .5, 1, or 1.5 xp depending on the quality and length
-Completion of Milestones. The number of posts, length of those posts, and the difficulty of completing the milestone will decide how much Milestone XP you get.
-Train-then-Spend is the ruling on spending XP.

The Sixth Circle of Rules - The majority of my work comes out of the 2e core book, MoEP:Abyssals, and CoCD:Underworld with some things taken from Shards of the Exalted Dream: Modern. However, charms can come from Glories: UCS, Dreams of the First Age, Thousand Correct Actions (Don't have will, need relevant charm if proposed), Ink Monkeys, and the 2.5 Errata in addition to anything coming out of the Core Book, Abyssals manual, and Shards. Sorcery/Necromancy comes from White/Black Treatises + 2.5 Errata. Anything (Homebrew) else must be approved. Revlid's craft and mutations have been approved.

Name:The Dark Prince (Formerly Theo Anders)
Caste: Moonshadow
Essence: 3
Personal Motes: 10/15
Peripheral Motes: 33/38

Affiliation: Empire 88
Costume: Winged and Armored Knight, medieval theme
Gang Tag: Similar to our caste mark, but the ring is replaced subtly with a serpent devouring itself around a dot.

Anima: A majestic, many winged, beautificaly robed woman with a reptilian bird skull helm

A single disc of absolute darkness floated in absolute perfection, a gaping maw into the void of oblivion, while a ring of energetic dark light spun clockwise around the disc. The bleeding had long stopped when the icon of negative energy had formed over the stigma.

Shimmering waves of translucent darkness flowed off of the Dark Prince like an elegant noble robe of energy with silver highlights. While seething black orbs swirled slowly and purposefully around him as of planets around their sun, a miasma of almost black dark purple and silver sparkles trailed behind them.

And yet, he spent more essence. Pulling at the very fabric of reality, denying its existence, and his aura only grew, forming an ever elaborate robe around him. While the orbs of darkness only multiplied...
Eventually, reality was rent... and the heavens darkened. One could still see perfectly... and yet, it was as if the very sun and all sources of light had been eclipsed.

While behind the Dark Prince, a majestic lady stood towering over him. She was dressed as he was, in flowing robes of darkness and glittering silver, a halo of absolute darkness floated above her head, while wings fluttered from her back, countless wings with feathers of infinite darkness and depth. There was a sense that she saw all, despite her eyes being covered by the reptilian bird skull that she wore as a helm.

Resonance: 4/10
Doom: Doom of the Scorched Heart

The Abyssal's heart becomes as a burnt stone in his
chest. He neither feels nor expresses emotion—in his actions
he seems not robotic, but simply dead inside. He effectively
has no Intimacies while this Doom is in effect, and considers
only efficiency when selecting a course of action. This lack
of tact also imposes a -2 internal penalty on all Social rolls.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character's emotions lead him
into a course of action he regrets.

Willpower: 6/6
Motivation: "The Dark Prince is but a young abyssal. Thus, his goals are smaller in scope. To destroy those who would stand in his way, who would harm Kayden and Aster, Fenja and Menja, Rune, and all the other sweet pussy he would tap in the Empire."
-Mission: Build a government independent knowledge and power base.
Virtues (* = Primary)

Compassion ●●○○○

*Conviction ●●●○○

Temperance ●●○○○

Valor ●●○○○

Attributes

Physical (Secondary)	Strength ●●●○○	Dexterity ●●●●●	Stamina ●○○○○
Mental (Tertiary)	Perception ●●○○○	Intelligence ●●○○○	Wits ●●●○○
Social (Primary)	Charisma ●●●○○	Manipulation ●●●○○	Appearance ●●●●●

Abilities (*Italics = Caste or Favored)

Dusk	Archery/Firearms ○○○○○	Martial Arts ○○○○○	*Melee ●●●●● (Swords ●●○)	Thrown ○○○○○	War ○○○○○
Midnight	*Integrity ●●●○○	Performance ●○○○○	*Presence ●●●●●(Princely Mien ●●○)	Resistance ○○○○○	Survival ○○○○○
Daybreak	Craft ○○○○○	Investigation ○○○○○	*Lore/Hacking ●●●●●	Medicine ●○○○○	Occult ○○○○○
Day	*Athletics ●●●○○	Awareness ●●●○○	Dodge ○○○○○	Larceny ○○○○○	Stealth ○○○○○
Moonshadow	*Bureaucracy ●●●○○	*Linguistics ●●●○○ (New England English(Native, Dialect), German, Chinese, Japanese)	*Ride/Drive ●○○○○	*Sail/Pilot ○○○○○	*Socialize ●●●○○

Charms:
Excellencies: Melee (1st, Infinite, Ravening Mouth), Presence (2nd)
First (Ability) Excellency

Cost: 1m per die; Mins: (Ability) 1, Essence 1; Type: Reflexive
(Step 1 for attacker, Step 2 for defender)
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None

The Exalt's player can invoke this Charm when
making a roll based on the relevant Ability. This Charm then
adds one die to that roll for each mote spent. Cannot add more dice than
Attribute + Ability)

Second (Ability) Excellency

Cost: 2m per success; Mins: (Ability) 1, Essence 1; Type:
Reflexive (Step 1 for attacker, Step 2 for defender)
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None

The Exalt's player can invoke this Charm when
making a roll based on the relevant Ability. This Charm
adds one success to a roll for every two motes spent. Each
success purchased with Essence Triumphant is the equivalent
of purchasing two dice with the First Excellency or some other
dice adder.

Infinite (Ability) Mastery

Cost: 2m+, 1wp; Mins: (Ability) 4, Essence 3; Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Any (Ability) Excellency

Each two motes
committed to this Charm reduces the mote cost for the first three
(Ability) Excellencies by one, to a minimum of 0. Exalted with
Essence 3 can spend up to six motes on this
Charm, while Exalted with Essence 4+ can
spend as many motes as they like.

Apply the discount to the total expenditure
on Excellencies relating to a given roll. A character
who spends motes on the Comboed effects of the
First and Second Excellencies does not receive the
discount for the use of both Excellencies on a given
roll. If the example character activated a Combo
and spent four motes to buy two successes on a roll
with the Second Excellency and four motes to
buy four dice using the First Excellency, the cost would
be five motes ([4 + 4] – [3 for the six motes committed to the Infinite Melee Mastery]).

This Charm and the relevant discount are incompatible
with any effect that invokes the effects of Excellencies as innate
powers rather than as Charms. A character must have
the Excellency in order to invoke it at a discount through the
use of this Charm.

Ravening Mouth of (Ability)

Cost: 3m; Mins: (Ability) 4, Essence 3; Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Any (Ability) Excellency

Whenever the deathknight takes an action or
activates a Charm using the chosen Ability, he regains one
mote for every level of damage the action or Charm inflicts
to sentient beings as if he had bitten the victims directly. If
multiple Ravening Mouth of (Ability) Charms could apply
in a situation, the Abyssal may use only one. Indirect damage
to that target also awards motes, such as health levels
paid as part of the costs of defensive Charms. Ravening
Mouth Charms exist for Archery, Martial Arts, Melee and
Thrown. Abyssals cannot use this Charm to feed through
the effects of spells.

Note that ongoing damage after the initial action or
Charm (such as from poison) do not award further motes.
In addition, the Abyssal can never gain more than 20 motes
during a single one of her actions from any combination of
Charms including Ravening Mouth of (Ability).

Melee(F):
Blade Summoning Gesture (Errata'd)

Cost: —(1m); Type: Permanent
Keywords: Merged, Mirror (Call the Blade), Obvious
Duration: Permanent

The Abyssal may reflexively spend one mote to activate this
Charm as described. He may only call his blade from up to (Essence
x 2) yards away while in battle, however.
Merged: Hungry Missile Technique (Thrown).

Resplendent Shadow Blade (Errata'd, keeping TDP's first blade)

Cost: 3m, 1wp or 5m, 1wp; Mins: Melee 4, Essence 3; Type: Simple
Keywords: Combo-OK, Emotion, Mirror (Glorious Solar
Saber; Exalted, p. 192), Obvious
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Blade-Summoning Gesture

The Essence of the Abyssal manifests in a weapon formed
of Essence-hardened shadows adorned or intertwined with
corpse-elements. This blade inflicts aggravated damage to
creatures of the Wyld and slightly dims any light brought near
it. The Exalt can summon this weapon to her hand from anywhere
it has fallen, as a diceless, miscellaneous action.
The character defines the form of her weapon upon purchasing
this Charm. Statistically, the weapon has traits equal to
single or paired basic 1, 2 or 3-dot close-range soulsteel artifact
weapon (such as a daiklave, grimcleaver, or direlance) of
the player's choice. Paired 1-dot weapons or a singular 2-dot
weapon costs 3m. Paired 2-dot weapons or a single 3-dot weapon
costs 5m. "Brawling aides" such as smashfists are not valid
forms.

Players wishing to have multiple options may purchase this
Charm a number of times equal to their character's Melee
score, creating a different weapon with each purchase.
If the character possesses an Overdrive pool, she gains one
offensive mote to that pool each action while she is wielding
Resplendent Shadow Blade. The character must be in battle to
benefit from the one mote drip. She may only benefit from one
drip from weaponry at a time.

Additionally, this Charm may be purchased a second time to
upgrade all weapons that may be created through Resplendent
Shadow Blade, granting them the benefits detailed on page 130
of Manual of Exalted Power—The Abyssals

-The Dark Prince's Shadow Blade: Massive "Buster" Sword of solid shadows (Speed 5; Accuracy +2; Damage +6L; Defense +2; Rate Infinite.)

Presence(F):
Dread Lord's Demeanor

Cost: 7m; Mins: Presence 4, Essence 3;
Type: Reflexive (Step 2)
Keywords: Mirror (Majestic Radiant Presence; Exalted, p.
204), Obvious, Social
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Any Presence Excellency

The Abyssal cloaks himself in the grim shadows of death,
so only the bravest, strongest-willed or most determined
dare attack him.

(Relevant Mirror Text)
This Charm intimidates others, negating
any physical or social attack made against the Solar unless the
attacker's player succeeds on a reflexive resistance roll.

"a difficulty 2 Willpower roll is the appropriate
form of resistance."

The attacker need succeed only once per
action, no matter how many attacks she makes during a flurry.
This Charm's effects are a form of unnatural mental influence,
and characters can spend three Willpower to resist the effects
of Majestic Radiant Presence for a scene.

Heart-Stopping Mien

Cost: — (1wp); Mins: Presence 5, Essence 3;
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Obvious, Social
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Lord's Demeanor

This Charm augments its prerequisite. An Abyssal
can add this effect by spending one Willpower when
she activates Dread Lord's Demeanor. Anyone who
can bring himself to attack the deathknight suffers a -2
internal penalty and suffers a number of dice of unsoakable
lethal damage equal to the Abyssal's Essence for
his presumption.

Athletics(F):
Raiton's Nimble Perch

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 1, Essence 2; Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Combo-OK, Mirror (Graceful Crane Stance;
Exalted, p. 222)
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: None

Deathknights move like the ghosts they lord over, stepping
lighter than a bird over all obstacles.

(Relevant Mirror Text)
This Charm lets the Exalt automatically succeed on any valid
Athletics action to keep his balance. Moreover, this Charm
allows the Exalt to keep his footing on any surface at least as
strong and wide as a human hair. He treats it as a three-footwide
ledge capable of supporting a thousand pounds of weight
when determining what movement and Athletics actions he
can take and what penalties to them might apply.

Linguistics(C):
Scathing Cynic Attitude

Cost: 3m; Mins: Linguistics 1, Essence 1; Type: Reflexive
(Step 2)
Keywords: Combo-OK, Mirror (Sagacious Reading of Intent;
Exalted, p. 233), Social
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None

Constantly surrounded by the overwrought melodramas of
the restless dead and jaded by the lies within lies of their Deathlord
masters, Abyssals become exceedingly difficult to trick.

(Relevant Mirror Text)

This Charm identifies
the motivation behind a given statement that the Exalt reads
or hears—a one-sentence summary of what the person making
that statement hopes to gain. If the Exalt invokes this Charm
to defend against a social attack and the attacker's purpose is
fundamentally hostile to the Exalt or the Exalt's Motivation,
this Charm perfectly negates the attack.

Socialize(C):
Exquisite Etiquette Style

Cost: 1m; Mins: Socialize 2, Essence 1;
Type: Reflexive (Step 1 for attacker, Step 2 for defender)
Keywords: Combo-OK, Mirror (Mastery of Small Manners;
Exalted, p. 239), Social
Duration: Until next action
Prerequisite Charms: None

Abyssals are horrid monsters full of lies and cruelty, but that
is no excuse for bad manners. As Moonshadows must remind
their circlemates, sometimes courtly elegance and sophistication
can ruin more lives than all the swords in the world.

(Relevant Mirror Text)
This Charm makes her responses to social situations
so natural and appropriate that in social combat she treats all
enemy groups as one point of Magnitude smaller than they are
(to a minimum of 0.) It also increases her effective Appearance
by one dot. When in doubt, other characters will be more apt
to do small favors and provide hospitality than not. Finally,
this Charm ensures that the character understands the basic
motivations of everyone present in the scene, as if her player
had rolled three successes on a mundane Investigation roll to
estimate each person's motives.

Languages: New England English (Native), German, Chinese, Japanese

Backgrounds:
Ally: 1 (Lisa)
Backing: 1 (Empire 88)
Liege: 2 (The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears)
Mentor: 1 (Kaiser)
Resources: 3 (Allowance, Theo is rich, bitch.)

Intimacies:
Aster (Cutest Little Sister)
Sex (Women)
Sabah (Trustworthy companion with "benefits"!)

XP(banked/earned): 57.5/90.5
Training days earned: 2 'social combat' day

The Dark Prince:

Soulsteel Reinforced Breastplate "God Cloth of the Grave"
Stats:
Soak 12L/11B Hardness 9L/9B Mobility Penalty -1 Fatigue Penalty 1 Attune 4 motes
Please note that aggravated damage is soaked as lethal damage.
Appearance - A fine set of armor that bears more in appearance to plate armor with wings and bling, the elegant God Cloth of the Grave is clearly designed for the handsome exalt for a gentle repose in the afterlife. Comes with a death masque to "conceal" one's identity in the afterlife. If it provides more power or functions than "mere" protection and style, such things would require its owner to find out over time.

- A dozen or so phone numbers and e-mails of Brockton Bay's teenage socialites (aligned with the Stansfields). Some of which are listed on various forms of ladies undergarments.

Trait Increase	Cost	Training Times****
Attribute	rating x 4	(rating) months
Favored or Caste Ability	(rating x 2) – 1	immediate
Out-of-Caste Ability	rating x 2 (rating)	weeks
Essence (to 3)	rating x 8	immediate
Essence (above 3)	rating x 8	(rating) months
Virtue	rating x 3*	immediate
Willpower	rating x 2	immediate

New Trait	Cost	Training Times****
Ability	3	3 weeks
Specialty	3**	3 weeks
Favored/Caste Charm	8	(Min. Ability) days
Out-of-Caste Charm	10	(Min. Ability + Min. Essence) days
Non-Abyssal Charms	16***	(Min. Ability + Min. Essence) weeks
Spell (Occult F/C)	8	(spell circle) weeks
Spell (Out-of-caste Occult)	10	(spell circle) weeks

* Increasing Virtues after character creation does not increase a character's Willpower
** Max three per Ability, but you can purchase the same specialty multiple times; Skitzy Ruling, specialties in favored/caste abilities train instantly. You can gain the ability instantly why wouldn't you gain a specialty instantly? Just don't abuse it so I don't have to change my mind.
*** Moonshadow Caste only: includes spirit Charms and Charms of other Exalted types

****Skitzy Ruling: Time spent doing something that could feasibly count as training counts as training. For example: Getting into the illegal fighting rings and punching people all night counts towards MA stuff. School counts towards Lore. Et cetera.

Train-then-spend for XP.

These are training times(Thanks to SwiftRosenthal for putting to paper what I couldn't quite formulate):
5 hr = 1 training day
6 days = 1 week
5 weeks = 1 month
3 months = 1 season
5 seasons = 1 creation year

Then:

1 training week = 30 hours
1 training month = 30 days = 150 hours

Also: MoEP: Abyssals states that Abyssals must double their training time outside of the Underworld. Fuck that noise. Fuck it long. Fuck it hard. Obviously a ploy to shoe-horn Abyssal campaigns into playing in and out of the shadowlands/underworld instead of out in Creation sword-punch-sploding people where they least expect it.

SwiftRosenthal's Wishlist
Anasurimbor's shortlist

Biigoh's On-Coming Light Attraction
Biigoh's Stylish Etiquette Execution

Edit: Many thanks to SwiftRosenthal for helping me prettify this index.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 9, 2015

Some info!

The timeframe for Theo's Exaltation is at the start of the holiday break before Taylor would trigger, so we're about three months before Lung takes a fuckton of wasps to the nuts.

Theo is about Taylor's age and goes to Arcadia(It is a very good school, and so it was acceptable when Theo asked to go there instead of Immaculata), Gwen (who is also 15) goes to Immaculata, under a false 'legal' name. Theo doesn't have friends so much as people is friendly with. Most of the people he's immediately surrounded with are sympathizers or children of the well off members of the Empire who aren't well off enough to afford Immaculata, but his acquaintances are a bit more far flung, its in part camouflage for Theo and part intel on his son's activities for Max.

Nessa and Jessica (the Valkyrie twins Menja and Fenja, and Theo's second cousins (once removed? I think)) are early college age and Kayden is in her late twenties. Max likes 'em young. Granted he's still in his mid thirties, so its not too too bad.

Aster has finally reached the stage where she is no longer ugly and is actually cute.

Members of the Herren Clan are Nessa, Jess, Ophelia/Othala, with a smattering of others. Theo is technically part of the Herren Clan, but falls under Anders rule.

Night makes the best fucking cookies ever. If we didn't know any better she'd be a Solar of the Cookie Baking Caste. (Caste mark looks like a chocolate chip cookie, after Night used PPE's chain on Gaia's secret TC Deva, the Cookie Baking Grandma). So what if Night and Fog act like Stepford Wife and Stepford Husband? They're pretty nice people if a little weird. Theo actually likes them, Max flat out refuses to hand Theo over to them to get him to trigger (because he was afraid that they would do what he just did) in part because Max Anders isn't the worst dad in Worm. *cough*Eidolon*cough*

The Empire primarily runs a protection racket, illegal fighting rings (dogs, people, chickens, whatever), some/a lot of white collar crime, and has drugs for sale. There are several consensual escort services that are basically Empire whores, but its voluntary or offered as a way to pay off a debt if the woman in question is attractive enough, otherwise its off to work at Empire events, or something like it; or getting the shit beaten out of her. Long story short, the Nazi's are the generally nicest gang in the city(if you're white), their areas are cleanest and have the lowest crime rates (of the gang's, not even Coil's territory is as nice). In before someone says 'They're Nazis!' ABB is also a racist gang and they actively participate in the flesh trade, and the Merchants forcibly drug people. How fucked up must your city be where the Nazis are the nicest gang. Nobody knows wtf Coil is up to.

Other than Coil the Empire is also the wealthiest gang in the city, because of various reasons.

The Empire has some feelers in the PRT ENE so they do have some intel on some things. If not, the E88 is a long established gang and has many contacts.

Medhall is -the- local company in Brockton Bay, the IT companies are too small and diseperate to compete and a few are under Medhall's thumb. The Anders are a wealthy family indeed. This means the Theo knows Dean Stansfield (Gallant). They are polite to one another but share a dislike of the other. One of the few things both boys inherited from their respective fathers. Stansfield Sr and Anders Sr don't like each other either. It doesn't help that Victoria Dallon suspects Theo of being a Nazi because GG suspects Max Anders of being a Nazi (because *large inhalation* Carol Dallon suspects Max Anders of being a Nazi) and she slips from being polite every now and again. She is still incredibly hot.

Eric Pelham and Theo have no problems with one another and are frequently lab partners. Crystal (is also incredibly hot, fuck everyone in New Wave is good looking alright!) has graduated high school and Theo was never on her radar other than at social events and even only just barely. Amy... standard Amy issues, including self image issues because her adoptive family are all App 3 and some change (the high end of App 3 but not quite App 4) but Amy is App 2. If she just had some fashion sense and used makeup she'd get that bump to 3 and feel better about herself.

=====
This is just to give a better picture of the world surrounding Theo, pre-Exaltation. And for discussion or lols after I close the votes in just shy of two hours, until the next bit.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 10, 2015

I kinda ended up writing a lot more than I expected.
=====
The shadows gathered and twisted in unnatural ways. What it solidified into would have made your mouth go dry, if blood wasn't coming up your throat.

She was intoxicating. Perfectly sized curves in the perfect places, her outfit left little to the imagination, but her skin was so smooth and perfect you didn't want to imagine it. You wanted to know what lay beneath.

And then you looked into her face, and her beautiful body suddenly wasn't the most attractive thing.

Jeff from school liked to joke about 'DSLs' or 'Dick Sucking Lips.' Pretty much every girl had 'DSLs' according to Jeff, and it frequently left you wondering what exactly 'Dick Sucking Lips' looked like. Now you knew. You never assumed that DSLs would be so kissable either.

Her eyes, though, intense and promising pleasure beyond anything you could imagine are what held your attention.

Absently you ponder if the lack of blood in your body (most of it was on the floor) was the only reason you weren't painfully aroused.

" I ask again, Theodore, do you wish to live?"

You gurgle an affirmative. Blood in your lungs really sucked.

She took a few steps closer and knelt by your side, opposite your forgotten time-frozen father. Because now you had an amazing view of bra-less and barely covered breasts less than two feet from your face. She has to shift again to bring her face into your view. Luckily, you think, she must have expected such a reaction, because she has that self-satisfied smirk that all women seem to have when they've distracted you with their sensuality purposefully.

"You would give up your name? Your Destiny? In order to live?"

Be Theo Anders and dead or be someone else and alive? That's a no brainer, you think everyone would rather be alive than dead, even if it meant being someone different. Your Destiny also looked like it was to die here and now, and that's something you would give up.

You manage to nod.

"Would you serve me faithfully," she pauses to give you a look that gives you the impression that serving her might also be servicing her(in the bedroom, the kitchen, to the window, to the wall), "and totally, and through me, the Neverborn, until Oblivion takes us all?"

That sounds like 'life in servitude' will be a very long time. Which would guarantee making sure Aster grew old and died having lived a happy life. And then continuing on, which could suck, but that's still decades from now.

Again, you nod.

"Would you accept the Truth? That Oblivion is the Doom of All Things? Would you work to hasten its coming, so that we may know peace at last?"

That... What? Of course everything died! But work so that everything is dead sooner? That would be a phenomenal undertaking. How would you even help to bring around the heat death and subsequent collapse of the universe (If your science teacher is right it'll take billions or trillions of years for that to happen)?

Maybe... Maybe this gorgeous woman was crazy immortal parahuman from ancient times? Or a forever-living demi-god, born before written history, hiding in the shadows? And has suffered watching all that she loved wither and die? And only by bringing about Oblivion would she finally be able to actually die? That would make sense.

Your father always did stress the importance of aiding women in need.

Almost as if sensing your impending answer, she lays hands on you and leans in to place her ear next to your mouth. You can barely feel the ghost like touch of her hands and even her bosom pressing into is barely felt. The hair that slid off her shoulder on onto your neck should tickle, but you can't even feel its delicate touch. And that is a travesty.

She obviously wants to hear the answer pass from your lips. You try to swallow the blood in your mouth and end up coughing slightly, grey speckles of blood fly into the air and freeze. Still, you managed to clear your mouth and lungs enough to speak one word clearly if barely a whisper:

"Yes."

She pulls back and gives you a sultry smile.

"Then take your Last Breath as Theodore Anders and rise-"

Theo's Abyssal name:
[]Write-in

"And know that you serve the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears before all others."

She kisses your forehead and disappears. You give one last ragged gasp and then the world starts to regain color and speed back up, and you can feel your flesh knitting back together.

Neither you or your father would ever admit to the elder screaming like a little girl when you suddenly sat up with a manly bellow(You totally didn't scream, it was totally a bellow, a most masculine one). Mostly because you smacked foreheads and he went ass over tea-kettle before scrambling forward to envelop you in a hug.

The first hug in a very long time.

It would normally be very tear jerking, but you can't quite stop bellowing as you feel your body twist and ripple. Eventually the feeling and the bellowing stops and you sag. Shortly afterwards, your father stops his 'soothing' noises.

'I'm going to get you the best hookers and blow money can buy,' is more energizing than soothing. But you do remember him promising that he would if you lived, before you took your Last Breath. At this moment in time, you were unsure if you were going to hold him to such a promise.

"What happened?" comes from the hallway and you hear the pounding, rushing feet of your cousins/almost step-moms, "Is Theo alright? Did he tri-"

Nessa is the first into the room, and she stops dead, disbelief written on her face. A second later, Jessica slams into her sister and they both end up on the ground in a tangle of limbs. A moment of grunting and the both of them are twisted around and staring at you. Jessica mouths 'Glowing?'

"I think I'm alright," you say as you look down at your hands. You're glowing, sort of. The grey-black 'light' is very dim, and after a moment and it gutters out.

"You're still bleeding, Theo, here."

Max tugs a not-so-bloody-as-Max'-shirt-or-the-floor handkerchief out of his pocket, and wipes your forehead. The twins are behind your father, Nessa looks fascinated, while Jessica frowns.

"It kinda looks like someone took a chunk out in the shape of-"

Theo's caste:
[]A circle with a starburst around it, like someone drew a sun!" - Dusk (General/Soldier/Champion of the Dead)(Firearms, Martial Arts, Melee, Thrown, War)

[]A disk... I... I think it blinked at me!" - Midnight (Priest/PR/Entertainer of the Dead)(Integrity, Performance, Presence, Resistance, Survival)

[]A smiley face of blood with no eyes, spooky." - Daybreak (Mad-Scientist/Necromancer/Doctor of the Dead)(Craft, Investigation, Lore, Medicine, Occult)

[]A ring, like Max should be putting on our fingers some day soon! Except, you know, not made of blood..." - Day (Assassin/SneakySpy/Thief of the Dead)(Athletics, Awareness, Dodge, Larceny, Stealth)

[]A dot inside a circle. Is the dot falling into a pit?" - Moonshadow (TalkySpy/Diplomat/Businessman of the Dead)(Bureaucracy, Linguistics, Drive, Sail, Socialize)

You pry your father's arms off of you and move to sit on the chair that you had been knocked off of when you were impaled. As if that was the cue, everyone else gets up. Your cousins, dutifully, begin to clean up a little. Not much can be done about the sheer amount of blood that's probably stained the hardwood floor other than blotting it up, but the glass dining table did get knocked over to the side and is cracked and broken. Though its broken, it, thankfully, didn't send glass everywhere, just a pile scattered about underneath it.

Max sits back down in his chair slowly, watching you. Your mouth opens and closes a few times.

What do you tell him?
[](You think you're a parahuman) I think I'm a parahuman.

[](That was close to an actual religious experience and you remember it vividly, Lie)I think I'm a parahuman.

[](Tell him about the vision, but coached in words he would recognize (eg Freja, not the Lover)) I... I saw this woman...

[](Tell him the whole truth as you know it) The world greyed out and I was offered a deal.

[]Write-in

The four of you jerk when heavy bangs at the door could be heard. Jessica streaks off to go answer it. Nessa's eyes widen and she turned to your father.

"That could be the paramedics. I called 9-1-1 while Jess called Ophelia."

"Scheisse!" Max swears.

=====

I'm going to wait until a caste is settled on before chargen happens, but now would be a good time to start talking about it. I found out that I did in fact have a copy of Shards of the Exalted Dream, so I will be directing you to use Modern's Resonance and Dooms. I'll be posting those in another post here in a few. As well as firearm and drive instead of archery and sail.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 10, 2015

Like other Chosen, Abyssals are cursed. Unlike their
brethren, this is not the lingering death-curse of the slain
Primordials, but an affliction arising from the deathly Essence
that suffuses their body, soul, and Exaltation. Abyssals
know this curse as the Black Resonance of the Grave, or
Resonance for short—a shadow cast over their lives, which
ensures that wherever they travel, death will follow close
at their heels. Resonance can be fought, mitigated, even
placated, but it can never be denied. So long as an Abyssal
bears the Black Exaltation, he must always take steps to
account for his nature, or risk being swallowed whole by
the power of death.
Each Abyssal Exalt has a 10-point Resonance track.
This works much like the Limit track of their Solar counterparts,
but with some key differences.

There are several means by which Abyssals accumulate
Resonance:
• The Abyssal must define one Virtue he possesses
at a rating of 3 or above as his primary Virtue. When he
spends Willpower to defy this Virtue, he gains one point
of Resonance.
• The first time in a scene the Abyssal spends Willpower
to resist unnatural mental influence, he gains one
point of Resonance.
• Whenever the Abyssal experiences the trigger condition
of his Doom (see below), he must roll a number of
dice equal to the rating of the Virtue associated with the
Doom. He gains one Resonance per success.
• Siring or bearing a child with a living lover produces
three points of Resonance upon the child's birth.
• Walking in Creation, among the living, without
adopting the trappings of death (see The Manual of Exalted
Power—The Abyssals, p. 95) produces one point
of Resonance at the end of a full week of masquerading as
one of the living without respite. (Deathknight infiltrators
may avoid this penalty so long as they privately retreat to
surround themselves with the trappings of death for at least
eight uninterrupted hours per week.)
• The Abyssal gains four points of Resonance after a
month elapses in which he has not slain any sentient living
creature, or permanently destroyed any spirit.
• The Abyssal gains one point of Resonance the first
time during a scene he is adversely affected by a Holy effect.
• While the Abyssal may acknowledge or use his living
name without automatically gaining Resonance, doing so
exacerbates his potential to gain Resonance by other means.
If he gains Resonance (or rolls to gain Resonance) in a
scene where he has already acknowledged his living name,
he automatically gains an additional point of Resonance.
If he acknowledges his living name in a scene after he has
already gained Resonance, then he gains an additional
point upon doing so.

Abyssals may mitigate the build-up of Resonance by
embracing their deathly nature, or spreading the power of
death out of themselves and into the world around them.
• The Abyssal loses all Resonance once he recovers
from being swallowed by his Doom (see below).
• The Abyssal loses three points of Resonance after
spending a full month within the Underworld, or one
point after a full month within a shadowland. Moving
between the Underworld and shadowlands within a month
without stepping out into Creation counts as time spent in
a shadowland.
• Spending three days performing no significant exertions
while surrounded by the trappings of death (sleeping in
a crypt, wearing funereal garb, avoiding the sun, subsisting
on only blood, lighting incense and singing hymns to the
dead, etc) removes one point of Resonance.
• Permanently destroying a spirit or killing a sentient
living being in order to protect or promote the Abyssal's
Motivation or one of his Intimacies removes one point of
Resonance (to a maximum of one point removed in this
manner per day)

As Resonance accumulates within the Abyssal's body
and soul, its deathly power bleeds out into the world,
producing eerie and unnerving phenomena. Such Resonance
Bleed effects are generally under the control of the
Storyteller, though players utilizing two or three-die stunts
may incorporate cosmetic Resonance Bleed effects into the
scene via dramatic editing. Resonance Bleed isn't constantly
active, but comes and goes unpredictably while the Abyssal
is within certain degrees of Resonance buildup. As a
general rule, the higher the Abyssal's Resonance, the more
frequently Resonance Bleed appears.
Resonance 1-2: Events conspire to cast the Abyssal
in a sinister light, and ill omens dog his heels, but these
events remain within the boundaries of possible coincidence.
When he arrives in town, he will like as not pass a
funeral procession on the road. When he opens the door
134
to a teahouse, the candles blow out. Gamblers experience
runs of bad luck in his presence. In settings containing high
technology, lights tend to dim when he appears.
Resonance 3-4: Minor unearthly effects manifest upon
the Abyssal. His eyes may gleam or glow in unnatural hues,
or his skin might grow ice-cold to the touch. His shadow
could include monstrous features such as barbs or spines,
or gesture menacingly and out of sync with the character's
own movements. His reflection could appear twisted and
monstrous, or he might cast no reflection at all. His voice
could chime like mourning bells, or echo as though cast
into a vast cavern.
Resonance 5-6: Level 3-4 Resonance Bleed effects
become more common. Additionally, the character's presence
begins to blight the world. Delicate plants may die at
his touch. A cold wind could follow him about, stirring his
hair and clothes and chilling those around him. Animals
might begin to howl and panic in his presence, or raitons
to crowd onto trees and rooftops wherever he lingers. What
food he touches could become spoiled, curdling or exploding
with maggots when cut into, while water he lingers
near becomes brackish and stale, or freezes solid. Shadows
stretch toward the Abyssal as though pulled in by some
awful gravity, or bow down in his presence regardless of
the actions of their owners.
In settings containing high technology, monitors and
televisions may begin to display static, or sudden jump-cuts
of disturbing imagery. Eerie wails emit from speakers, lighting
flickers, and blood may drip from ventilation systems.
Resonance 7-9: At this level the character experiences
near-constant level 3-4 Resonance Bleed effects, and
frequent level 5-6 effects. Additionally, during moments of
stress, emotion, or great concentration, truly frightening
deathly manifestations may appear around him. All divine
symbols within a mile might tarnish, crack, or shatter. If
the deathknight peers into a mirror while incensed, it is
likely to shatter or explode. The sky may grow dark and
overcast, flickering with black or red lightning and blocking
out the sun, building over the next hour to a terrible
storm. Seas might grow becalmed, or could be stirred into
violent froth. Corpses could whisper frantic prayers to the
Abyssal's glory, or weeping red eyes might open in the
shadows all around. Those sleeping where the Abyssal
passes may be tormented by horrid nightmares in which
the Exalt features prominently.
In settings containing high technology, video
display systems may cease to function, displaying only
images of ghosts, corpses, or other unnerving imagery.
The voices of the dead can be heard from radios, speakers,
and telephones. Electrical lighting fails entirely, or
bulbs burst with no warning, while plumbing backs up
and spits out blood, or other, less identifiable but still
unwholesome substances.

Each Abyssal carries a Doom, a deathly curse that
consumes him when he reaches Resonance 10. This curse
is chosen during character creation, and is tied to the
Abyssal's primary Virtue (which must be a Virtue rated at
3+). Each Doom contains a trigger condition which may
cause the Abyssal to gain Resonance (see above). Unlike
the Great Curse which afflicts the Solar Exalted, Abyssals
may not spend Willpower to mitigate the effects of their
Doom, and experience no catharsis at its conclusion. While
the Great Curse seems to its victims to be their own fault,
a momentary lapse of control in which their passions break
free and lead them to blind and terrible acts, there is nothing
subtle about an Abyssal being swallowed by his Doom.
He is in the grip of a curse, bent beneath the weight of his
own terrible, deathly nature, and knows it.

Doom of the Killing Saint

The Abyssal's heart breaks, then drowns in a rising tide
of darkness. She cannot stand to witness an individual suffering,
and acts to alleviate such misery as best she is able.
If she cannot relieve an individual's sorrow by other means,
then she sends them to the peace of the grave.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character sees innocents suffering
and is unable to effectively intervene.

Doom of the Black Sun

Undone by her keen empathy, the Abyssal is no longer
able to withstand the constant awareness that she is an
affront to the living Essence of Creation and a perversion
of what her Exaltation was meant to be. She is driven to
retreat from the light of the sun, for only shadows and the
night can bring relief and hide her shame. The Abyssal must
make a Willpower roll each action (difficulty 3) to take any
action other than flee for the nearest available dark shelter
when exposed to the direct light of the sun. She must spend
a Willpower point to willingly leave such shelter and expose
herself to sunlight. Exposure to diffused sunlight, such as
on a heavily overcast day, or through heavy curtains, does
not trigger the compulsion to flee, but imposes a -1 internal
penalty on all actions.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The Abyssal experiences difficulty
achieving her goals because of fear or rejection by the living.

Doom of the Scorched Heart

The Abyssal's heart becomes as a burnt stone in his
chest. He neither feels nor expresses emotion—in his actions
he seems not robotic, but simply dead inside. He effectively
has no Intimacies while this Doom is in effect, and considers
only efficiency when selecting a course of action. This lack
of tact also imposes a -2 internal penalty on all Social rolls.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character's emotions lead him
into a course of action he regrets.

Doom of the Cold Soul

The Abyssal falls into a state of "cold mind," emptying
her thoughts of all but her goals and passions and proceeding
with the single-mindedness of a restless spirit. She becomes
incapable of acting on any matter that has no bearing on her
Motivation or Intimacies, save to protect herself from direct
assault. An Abyssal under this Doom will pass by a burning
orphanage or the greatest of First Age treasures without
comment or a second glance, if they have no relevance to
her mission or those things she values.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character suffers a personal setback
because she allowed herself to be distracted from her goals.

Doom of the Heart's Judge

The Abyssal's heart becomes a scale in which those
around her are weighed and found worthy or wanting.
Any individual who expresses disrespect for his ancestors
or the dead in general, or who disdains his own life in her
presence, she is compelled to slay.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character suffers a significant
setback due to the selfishness of others.

Doom of the Hungry Ghost

The Abyssal is filled with a great, aching, and uncontrollable
hunger for life, and seeks to fulfill this need at all
costs. She forgoes all other priorities to binge on the rudest
of living pleasures, gorging on food, sex, and blood, as opportunities
present themselves. A Temperance roll must be
made to avoid fighting anyone who attempts to deny the
Abyssal the pleasures she seeks.

Duration: One day.

Trigger Condition: The Abyssal must forego a worldly
pleasure to avoid endangering others.

Doom of the Grave Blade

The character becomes an embodiment of death, answering
those she feels pose a challenge to the grave through
their bravado. Whenever she encounters a character that
seems to have no fear of death, she must challenge them to
battle. She slays those whose bravado exceeds their skill,
but is compelled to devise some reward for those who are
able to stand in the face of death's avatar and triumph (assuming
she survives challenging them). This might mean
slaying a personal enemy on the fighter's behalf, or perhaps
bequeathing her daiklave to the mighty one.

Duration: One day, or until she has appropriately
rewarded an individual who defeated her.

Trigger Condition: Another individual expresses a
lack of fear of death in the character's presence, with apparent
sincerity.

Doom of the Eternal Knight

Having been to the cusp of death and returned, the
Abyssal is without fear. Convinced that she is death's master,
she recklessly places herself in the forefront of battle,
challenges enemies without regard to their strength, and
tackles missions regardless of the danger involved. She will
not retreat or back down under any circumstances.

Duration: (Essence) days.

Trigger Condition: The character's valor is impugned.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 11, 2015

Initially, when Parahumans first started appearing, there was a huge spike in deaths related to gang violence. Parahuman gangers were no better, or rather no different, than their unpowered compatriots. Then the Protectorate came along, and criminal parahumans, for the most part, cranked it down a few notches. The number of intra-gang deaths plummeted as most gang involved Parahumans didn't wish for a kill-order (back then it was much easier to have called down on you), or even be noticeable that the eventual Triumvirate and Hero came down on them.

Then the Endbringers happened, and getting a kill-order became far more difficult to get. Eventually the Birdcage was completed, and many people, including lots of parahuman criminals are unsure of what is worse. Dying, or living out the rest of your days in a small sterile world never to see the sun again.

But in the atmosphere of capes, even villainous ones, not killing people (all the time) had become a cultural thing, by then, that spread through many gangs via osmosis (The Teeth, out of Boston are an example of a notable exception. Those guys are pretty fucking nuts). Gang capes, like the powered members of the E88, usually don't kill people. Directly. Its commonplace for gang villains to use minions/thugs to kill people instead of doing themselves, in order to avoid the scrutiny. The most common victim of being killed by a cape (bar the Endbringers or the Slaughterhouse 9) is still to be a thug in a gang, during an altercation between gangs. The number of gang members killed by an opposing gangs cape barely out numbers the number of deaths cause by the Slaughterhouse 9 each year. That's still in the thousands-tens of thousands range. (The number of casualties (including the wounded) caused by the SH9 dwarfs everything but the Endbringers and other natural disasters.)

Now-a-days the only time gang member deaths are high is when a full on gang war happens. The usual posturing of various gangs around the country doesn't usually result in a lot of deaths in comparison. Brutal maimings and vicious assaults are the most common form of 'extreme' gang violence. Low-level gang members -do- still die to other gang's low-level members, but the rate was higher decades ago, fire-fights still break out between gangs. Gang villains are still struck by a bullet and die every now and again, but most gang villains are enough of a show of power that other gangs send their capes out to meet in just-barely-non-lethal-but-highly-likely-to-leave-you-a-cripple-for-life-if-it-doesn't-kill-you combat, which ends up keeping many of those capes alive to fight Endbringers.

What this means for us is that villains, even members of a gang like the E88, aren't going around and killing people. (There are some notable exceptions) Many villains -have- killed more than one someone directly on purpose, but most of the time its done indirectly via an unpowered gang member or piled onto the designated killer(or killers) of the gang. (Hookwolf has a very impressive kill count for a villain, he's the go to guy in the Empire if you want someone dead, but Kaiser's hands are fairly clean if we are only counting people he's killed with his powers and not the deaths that he's ordered)

The 'Cops and Robbers Atmosphere' and the 'Unwritten Rules' do exist to some degree, because all hands that will fight the Endbringers are needed, so its fostered through PR(It has been becoming more attractive to be a hero or a rogue in recent years, and a lot of small time villains stay small time in hopes they might be able to break away from crime), Contessa/Number Man/Cauldron bullshit, legal deals, fear of the full might of the PRT/Protectorate, and other such machinations.

Theo can go around murdering fucktons of people, but that draws fucktons of attention, almost all of it bad. Remember Bakuda going off the rails and the gang alliance to take her down? Yeah, that gang alliance happened because the various villains didn't want the hammer to come smashing down on -all- of them. Alexandria is a very big hammer, Legend is a rainbow of hurt, and That-Fucking-Trump Eidolon wrecks pretty much everybody's shit. Being free and alive to enjoy the fruits of crime is a big motivator for such actions. Since he's Exalted, that eventually won't scare him at all, but until then, its something to consider.

=====

Also prettied up the index.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 11, 2015

"Then take your Last Breath as Theodore Anders and rise the Dark Prince, and know that you serve the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears before all others."

The Lover pulled back and settled in her chair. Her first agent on this 'Earth Bet.' The process of Exaltation had gone smoothly. She had expected some difficulties, the humans of Earth Bet not having souls, lack of a sub-structure of Essence, or simply not even being able to pierce the wall betweens worlds through her 'Bowl of Udr.'

The Lover pondered re-naming it to something more impressive. Perhaps when she had started experiencing some success in her task to investigate, subvert, and destroy an 'Earth.' She swirled the waters, keeping an eye on her new charge.

The Dark Prince's family was recovering well, as if they expected that something like Exaltation could happen. When the Deathlord visited his dreams, she would have to inquire about it.

The father wiped the excess blood off his son's brow, revealing the full glory of the still bleeding Moonshadow caste mark.

A Moonshadow wasn't ideal, but definitely workable. The possibility of using another of her precious Exaltations would have to be considered for the short term. Opening a full shadowland was a priority, as was having a powerbase on Earth Bet.

Yes, that would be his first mission. He would have to gather a suitable power and knowledge base. Once that happened...

The Lover's lips turned down. She definitely hated having to rely on a single agent, especially one so untrained. It made it difficult, but not impossible to plan. She would still have to wait to see were his talents lay.

The Dark Prince's Character Sheet:
[]Write in (More below)

The bowl was covered, and the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears swept out of her private, hidden study, only stopping long enough to redo all of the traps and protections. Amusement and entertainment were needed. She could visit his dreams later.

=====

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before finally settling on what you are going to tell your father.

"I..." you pause and look at Max, his attention is riveted on you.

"The world went grey, and I saw this woman," you pause again, remembering her curves, her legs, her delicate hands, her pouty lips, her intense eyes. She was so fucking hot.

"She was really fucking hot, I can't even explain how hot she was. I think even you would have been a bumbling fool in front of her, and even that would be an understatement."

That gets a snort of amusement out of your father, along with a slight lift in the corner of his mouth.

"I think she might have been Freja, because she offered me a deal. I had to give up my name, my Wyrd, and enter her service. In return she would give me life and power. I..."

You look down at your hands and feel the tiniest bit of shame.

"I was afraid, I didn't want to die," you look up at your father's now concerned face, "I took the deal, she renamed me 'the Dark Prince.' Theo Anders took his Last Breath on that floor, then everything started moving again, and," you finger the hole in your shirt absently, "I got better."

"And here we are," Max spoke up. He looked over your shoulder to where the twins were, before casting his gaze back down at you.

Before he can speak, heavy bangs interrupt, and you all jerk in surprise. Jessica quickly leaves the room, and Nessa's slightly panicked voice startles your father to action.

"That could be the paramedics. I called 9-1-1 while Jess called Ophelia."

"Scheisse!" Max swears. "Theo, go change your shirt quickly, keep the handkerchief pressed to your forehead. We must protect your identity if its the paramedics. You fell down and knocked yourself out. We panicked because you were unresponsive and your wound bled profusely. Quickly now, go!"

You get up and start making your way to your room, thinking about how you want to handle this.

Pick one from each category:

[] Fuck your dad and his ideology. Tell the paramedics (if it is them) the truth (but not that your dad is Kaiser. That is a bit to far over the imaginary cape line) and probably end up a Ward of the State and in the Wards.

[] Protect your identity, play along with your father. If you want to break away from the E88 or never join up with it, it can be decided later, your identity is more important at the moment.

And:

[] If its Ophelia and Aaron, let Ophelia play nurse. Even missing an eye, she's definitely fap worthy.

[] If its Ophelia and Aaron, keep Ophelia from fussing over you or decline treatment, you're a grown fucking man now. You touched death and a very pretty lady came along and helped you kick it in the teeth.

=====

+2 xp! (Forgot to out this here)

Chargen is going to take place over 5 rounds as per SwiftRosenthal 's very sound advice.

First round:
Motivation:
[]Write in

and

Anima Banner:
[]Write in

No snips tomorrow night unless I get super motivated. I want to put some time in on Tera with my friends.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 15, 2015

You come out of your room in a much cleaner shirt, blood still leaking down your face and onto it, keeping it from being completely obvious that it was a 'clean' shirt. In a moment of common sense, you changed your pants too.

Fortunately, it was only Ophelia with her fiance Aaron. You hear them as you begin to make your way to the sitting room.

"Where is he?" she practically screeches. As long as you were white, Ophelia was very caring.

"He got better," Nessa answers smugly in reply.

"And? Let me see him! You made it sound like he'd been brutally murdered! I've spent the better part of fifteen minutes worrying!"

"Jessica, take Ophelia to her patient," comes your father's voice, "Aaron and I will retire to my study, we have things we must discuss. When the paramedics arrive make sure that they know my son is in the care of Ophelia."

"In the sitting room!" You call out to them absently.

As you settled into your chair and wait, a hand on the cloth held to your forehead, you take a moment to look down at yourself. Your shirt is baggy everywhere but the arms and shoulders, its a little tight. You tug at your collar and look at your still somewhat sticky chest.

You have muscles. YOU have MUSCLES. They're really well defined, and in your opinion, properly streamlined. Your shoulders and arms are bigger too. You wonder if other 'muscles' are bigger as well.

You jerk with a start as the mostly open door to the room is banged all the way open and Ophelia barges in with Jessica in tow. You are holding your loose pants open and what would seem to be checking out your junk, and you have been caught. You drop your pants and are thankful neither of the beautiful women in the room say anything, though Jess smirks. (Yes, by the way. Other muscles are bigger. Your quadriceps are huge.)

"I'm fine now, Ms. Herren, just bleeding from my forehead. It won't stop for some reason."

You removed the cloth and the blood begins to dribble down your face again.

"What happened?" she asks as she inspects the wound with a small frown.

"I was hurt, and there was quite a bit of blood," you answer, feeling just a bit more blood seep from your forehead, struck by the insight that Ophelia suspects your father.

She was right, but you also know that Max Anders rarely takes lip from any woman, unless he wants something from her. Ophelia didn't need that trouble. Nor did you need the fallout from telling her. You still weren't in a particularly good position to strike back at your father.

"Father panicked when I was unresponsive. Father's panic caused Jess and Nessa to panic too. I'm better now. Probably a minor brute rating."

Downplaying how hurt you were was probably a good thing.

Ophelia is still wearing that frown and looking you in the face, but a blush has begun to pink her cheeks.

"It looks like it was cut surgically, the edges are so smooth. Not to mention, I'd say a 'better' is a poor descriptor, Theo, you look amazing."

There was a lilt to her voice you aren't familiar with, and a little bit more blood seeps out.

She wants to touch you. You certainly wouldn't complain if she did. Ophelia certainly featured occasionally in your alone time. She wasn't that much older than you, and was a nurse at the Anders Memorial. When you had naughty nurse fantasies, a certain one-eyed nurse was the star.

Jessica coughed. Jessica wanted to deny Ophelia the chance to touch you. Because she wanted to do it instead.

"I'm pretty sure I might be a Thinker too. I can't be that good looking."

Now both of the women were sporting embarrassed looks and blushes. Ophelia's eyes glint though, and she leans back in. Her face is very close to yours. You can feel her breath, tickling your lips. Jessica makes a slightly strangled noise and Ophelia's hands rest mid way up your thighs. Her chest just barely brushes yours.

But she isn't looking in your eyes, just taking advantage of the situation. A moment later she's standing again, studiously ignoring the death glare she's receiving from Jess. You blink rapidly and fight down your own blush. You could use a glass of water to wet your sudden dry mouth.

"When you used your powers, you bled a bit more, didn't you? It looked like a thing ring and a small dot, when I first saw it. Its definitely a wider ring and a bigger dot now. Stitches probably won't help."

"That's... that actually really good to know. Thank you."

There's banging on your door again. There's definitely a moment of tense, awkward silence. You're pretty sure that neither wants to leave you alone in the room with the other.

"C'mon, 'Phelia. You're probably going to need to show your paperwork to the paramedics. And I need to go tell Max that 'The Dark Prince' is going to need a new wardrobe. He'll need to call Old Johann, there's no way Theo will be able to get a properly tailored suit for tomorrow evening otherwise."

There's a small exchange of looks, a snort of amused incredulity, and minor farewells. What to do now?

Well, first. To the bathroom to see what you look like now.

A moment later and your flabbergasted. You do look that good. Like you could have been the model for dozens of classical sculptures and paintings. Of course, it also looks like you might be cut from marble yourself, your skin is so smooth and white. If it weren't for your bright ice blue eyes, and the silvery sheen to your once golden blonde hair. But you can almost feel like something is wrong with the way you look.

Even with the subtle feeling of wrongness, you are without a doubt the most handsome, virile, and powerful looking fifteen year old young man you've ever seen. There is nothing remotely homosexual about admitting how handsome you are to yourself.

You touch your... mark. You can watch it heal, smoothly and slowly, as if the blood was getting wiped away, leaving clean unblemished skin.

Your hands curl around the sink and you stare at yourself.

"What are you going to do now, Dark Prince?"

Besides take advantage of your new super good looks and have romantic intimate relations with women? You can feel that if you had pushed it, you probably could have had Ophelia naked and straddling you, bouncing up and down in your lap.

You banish that thought. Like the nurse said 'you look amazing.' Using your powers to force it? No. But you can definitely use them to help you. Plus you have the looks to make them beg for it. And the penis. You did check that out. Definite upgrade.

You give a roguish grin at your mirrored self, a glint of hormonal mischief in your eye.

"You have powers, you have looks. I'll tell you what your going to do. Get with every powered woman in the Empire while you take it over."

Now, you need to find out what your father intends for you and if you need to, and if so, how to work around it.

What to do?:
[] Go interject into Max and Aaron's conversation. Ask what he intends for you in the near future.

[] Wait until your father calls for you. He will eventually. Getting powers is a big thing.

[] Claim tiredness and beg off to go to sleep early. There is that high society Christmas party at the Sheridan tomorrow.

[] Write in

XP awarded: 4xp

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 17, 2015

Max will call for you. It might not be tonight, it might not be tomorrow, but the two of you will talk about what's going to happen.

Now, you need to find out what you can do beyond figuring out what people want to do. And looking 'amazing.'

But before you leave the bathroom, you pull off your shirt and lay it over you arm, grab the baby wipes (for the very rare times Aster is over) and begin cleaning up the blood that hasn't flaked off. There isn't a whole lot, especially when you consider the state you were in, but the equipment down in the locked gym is very nice.

You duck into your room, tossing the used wipes into your trashcan. The following is five minutes of quiet expletives as you try to find excersize clothes that fit. Eventually you end up in a pair of basketball shorts with the ties abused in order to pull it snug against your much narrower hips, and a wife-beater tank top you managed to find stuffed into the back of one of your drawers that had previously been way too tight to wear. One of your cousins from the far side of the Herren Clan sent it to you. With a rather mocking note.

It fits you like a glove. You can count your abs. That asshole can suck the shit out of a turtle's cloaca.

How in Oblivion are you going to explain this?

Slouching. You were always slouching before. Bad posture, lack of confidence. You decided you were a man now, so no more slouching. That'll do. Maybe.

You open your door to find Nessa with her hand raised in preperation to knock.

"Yes?"

"Theo? Holy crap! You clean up good!" she gives you a good once over, and looks back at you with a smirk and a glint in her eye, "You almost die and get the sweetest power ever. I didn't believe Ophelia when she told me!"

You nod in acknowledgement of her statements. You did die, sorta, and you don't know if it is the sweetest power ever yet.

"I'm headed down to the gym to see if I got anything out of it, besides being suddenly fit and a minor thinker power."

Nessa cocks an eyebrow.

"Do you know the code to get in?"

"Yes, my mother's birthday."

Nessa nods and gives a sad smile.

"Good, don't get too much into it, you'll want a spotter for some of the equipment, and we're almost done cleaning up. We'll be down in a few, okay?"

With that handled you head down a flight of stairs and avoid the bulk of the entertainment room, heading to the hidden door behind the popcorn machine. A quick jiggle of the right foam pyramid reveals a keypad, and a moment later you're walking into a large gym designed for parahuman usage.

Jessica and Nessa got the most use out of it, due to their scaling-with-size brute powers. Followed by your father, when he was feeling particularly creative. Barring them, mostly this gym was used by visits Empire or Gesellschaft parahumans. It was reinforced; had up to brute 5 rated weight systems; a free running treadmill for traditional movers; an automated, if short, obstacle course, for non-traditional non-teleporting movers and combat thinkers; a large boxing ring for sparring; and an area with some dummies standing. There was also the Anders Family collection of blades, that you drift over to so you can putz around a little with before the girls appear.

Grandfather had been fond of collecting European style blades, but those were kept on display in various parts of the Anders holdings. No, these were a collection of swords and spears that were meant to be used. Training swords and spears included. A couple of shields lay close by for Nessa and Jessica.

Ever since you were little, you wanted to use a sword. Though instead of a longsword, you decided to see how strong you really are, and pick up a Zweihaender.

A few practice swings and you're pretty sure that you could do acrobatics with it.

So you do.

Your forehead cracks open and a smidgen of blood begins to dribble out as you duel with a false opponent. You dodge, deflect, and feint imaginary blows, even flipping over one. To land a brutal decapitation strike and defeat your opponent, you twist, roll over their counter strike, step up and plant a foot on the near-by weapons rack, and flip-twist over their shoulders. The blade whistles through the air, an upside top of whirling steel death, and you could play imaginary soccer with their imaginary head.

Your breaths come in short, quick gasps and you're drenched in sweat. You might be stronger and faster, but you're not really any more fit. You look over to the water-bottle fridge in the back corner, and wipe your sweat and blood covered brow. You catch them out of the corner of your eye and whirl on them, right before the clapping begins. Your cousins all have awestruck faces.

"Tell me you got all of that!"

And Ophelia has her smart phone out and is finishing, presumably, saving the video that she took of you.

"I missed a few practice swings, but I got that awesome bit at the end!"

The sword clangs to the ground as you dash forward, you have to see it.

"Can I see?"

Jessica and Nessa flinch, but Ophelia shrieks in surprise, her phone going up into the air. You manage to snag it and begin watching the video. In your mind's eye you can still see your opponent, but its looks like-

"I look like I'm in a kung-fu flick. One of the badly dubbed wire ones."

"It looks cool, but do you think you could do it with a live opponent? Or you scared to try?" comes to your ear playfully from Jessica's mouth scant inches from your ear. You were a little too focused on your awesome video to pay attention to the three women clustered around you, without touching.

That has to stop. Note to yourself: Achtung! Pass auf!

What if they had been enemies after the end of a fight. You know you can pay attention.

"Sure, if Ophelia will heal you when you get hurt?"

Jessica rolls her eyes and snorts in amusement at your barb.

The one-eyed nurse smiles and nods, then she drags Nessa over to a better spot. She's going to film this too. When you turn back to Jessica, she's picked up a longsword and shield. Her positioning is such that you'd have to walk across her front, and risk getting struck, or taking the long way around to get to your blade.

You reach a hand out as you walk to a spot about ten paces in front of her, and the sword flies to your hand. You smirk outwardly at the surprise on her face, but inside you are just as surprised. The blood begins to flow down your face at this point, your mark fully open.

You hear the door to the gym open this time.

"I think," comes your father's voice as he walks into the room, followed by curious-looking Aaron, "I would like to watch this."

Before you... almost died? started being undead? -were Exalted- you would have broken into a nervous sweat and probably mucked this all up. You're fairly sure you could best your more experienced cousin, but would that be the best choice?

[] Impress your Father and not only win, but win by a fair margin.

[] Win or lose, this is about learning what kind of skills you might have. Fight hard, just not hard enough to permanently hurt Jess. You'll probably win anyways.

[] Throw the fight, lose. You might get dick punched if Jess ever finds out though. And given what she just saw... Maybe you should start wearing a cup, or make it the best damn acting anyone has ever seen (it won't be, its gotta be convincing though)

[] Write in

Edit: XP gain 3xp

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 17, 2015

Dauntless is Brockton Bay's hometown hero, and as such is frequently listed in most Brocktonite's top three capes.

The Wards (In general) in Brockton Bay are something of a PR anomaly. They are incredibly popular. Though he'd never voice it out loud, Glenn Chambers, head of PRT/Protectorate PR suspects this is because the Wards in BB actually act like a junior Protectorate. Brockton Bay's situation is one where needs dictate.

Armsmaster is a nationally recognized and nationally ranked, the only Tinker short of Dragon or Hero to reach such a level, hero, though his local popularity usually has him somewhere in a Brocktonite's top five, he is infrequently the number one favourite.

Like most civllains, a Brocktonite's number one cape is frequently a member of the Triumverate.

Miss Militia and Assault&Battery (Many people think of them as a single unit despite knowing that they're two seperate capes.) rank higher than Armsmaster locally in popularity. Velocity is fairly popular, but most people don't consider him particualrly noteworthy.

But its Dauntless and Armsmaster that fight for 'makes us feel safest and makes us look up to the heroes' in the slowly rotting city of Brockton Bay.

But back to Dauntless and the Wards.

If you were to ask any of the BB homegrown independents (Not New Wave, they're kinda high on their own smug and will list other members of New Wave with occasionally a Protecorate cape thrown in. Strangely its only Crystal/Laserdream who lists Panacea in her top five capes (#1) Victoria lists herself and makes no mention of her adopted sister.) who'd they like to work along, its almost always Dauntless or the Wards. Ask the homegrown villains and they'd like to be arrested by (if they HAD to get arrested) by Dauntless or the Wards if only to bring a Brocktonite some hype.

Hookwolf has a fuckton of respect for little Vista, and will punish any mook who badmouths her, and will defend her to his peers. She was only twelve and some change and she had the great big brass ones to fight Hookwolf to save a PRT agent. Not only did Hookwolf have to rely on his years of experience to get close to her, little squirt managed to survive with a minor belly wound. He waits for the day she can cut loose a bit. Little Vista is pegged to be a Valkyja, Hooky is sure.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, almost every villain in BB dislikes or outright hate Shadow Stalker. Some have been or had their direct underlings get shot by her crossbows, other hear the rumors. The rumors that float around about her... Well, if she got caught, it'd make BB look bad, and that's bad. Brockton Bay already sucks enough as it is, don't need that kind of bullshit to add to it.

Not a lot of people actually like Triumph. He comes across as one of those rich douches, 'he's alright' they'll say, 'but I'd rather talk about -'

Clockblocker is a huge hit amongst his age group, male and female. His joking attitude gives him 'the funny guy' favourability.

Aegis and Gallant are both well liked, but neither really sticks out. They're remembered, but in the PR events, they're the most bland and comic book heroic types.

Kid Win is ranked number 3, behind Vista and Clockblocker in terms of popularity. He's a tinker, and tinkers always mean big things, especially when the Ward has a chance to learn under one of the best tinekrs in the world, it should mean one day a Brocktonite Tinker will be one of the best Tinkers in the World. That he flies around on a skateboard and occasionally shoots his laser pistols at PR events (Very heavily frowned on, except Armsmaster has charts and shuts up any nay sayers) is a big reason. It -is- really fucking cool.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 19, 2015

You are done with being the pudgy little loser son of Max Anders. Losing is something you did in the past. Other people lose. At worst, you suffer a temporary setba-

No, done losing.

Here and now, you are going to give your father a reason to be proud of you, to fear your might.

That is, however, no reason to be impolite to your lovely and darling cousin. She is volunteering her time for this demonstration.

You shoot your dad a look out of the corner of your eyes before settling back on Jessica. She clangs her sword and shield together with a slightly excited smile. In return you offer her a salute and a short bow.

"Jessica, I would like to thank you for being my first opponent. It is an honor to fight against you," her smile become radiant with its happiness at the compliment, "but I shall give you no quarter, I fight to win!"

Your proclamation is joined with a little flurry and a proud stance. Everyone gets a giggle out of it.

"Cocky that you have powers now, huh? Then, how about a wager?"

You settle into a relaxed ready stance. She does much the same.

"What would be the terms, m'lady?"

"Well, since I'm popping your fighting cherry, if you win, I'll pop another," she says with a saucy wink.

The response from the peanut gallery is a bit varied. Ophelia makes a scandalized noise, Nessa titters, Aaron chuckles, but your father speaks up.

"Jessica, I'm not su-"

"You spend most of your time with Nessa. Besides, Theo should have a better first time than coked out with some whore he doesn't even know, like you were planning with Aaron! If he wins, I take his virginity. If I win-"

"I shall attend to your needs as a Lady's Gentleman for a day," you cut her off with a decent enough counter offer of being her butler for a day. It doesn't really compare to losing your pesky v-card, but Jessica would like it anyways.

"Deal!"

You feel something tug at your... you-ness. You can feel that it has something to do with making a deal, forcing penalties on oathbreakers. You push it back down, you'll have to bind someone in an oath later.

Now that the betting is done, your ready stance tightens up.

Jessica has several years of experience, and does actually know how to use her sword. Just like Nessa uses her spear. The two of them have never fully relied on their powers.

You were moving very fast earlier. You need the initiative. You need to keep her from attacking.

Even more blood spills out of the mark on your forehead and black-grey fire erupts and fills the room. Translucent darkness concentrates and you can see it move and swirl as if you were wearing robes in the wind, motes of silver-grey flicker through that darkness like thread thin embroidery. Pulsing black obs begin to orbit around you, slowly, purposefully, trailing a thick purple mist, and spitting silver sparks.

You change the way you stand, proud, arrogant, foreboding; you adopt a stern look, and cloak yourself in grim death and dark shadows. You are the Dark Prince and it would be a folly upon follies to attack you as you stride with purpose, telegraphing your blow as you quickly close the distance between you and Jessica.

Jessica for her part looks apprehensive, she starts and stops at least twice during your display, before finally she bursts in to action, swinging her shield up to block your downward stroke and pivoting in to deliver a stab to your abdomen.

You don't sit idle, and allow yourself to pivot around Jessica, using her shield as the fulcrum. A step back, a twirl (these not-light robes swirl fantastically! It's like you're Gandalf the 'Black' or something from the Lord of the Rings movies from Earth Aleph), and you return her stab with you own, but you leave the stab incomplete as she brings her sword around to bat it away.

Another twirl and the aborted stab is now a downward chop. Jessica steps in, of all things, and smacks your hands with her shield, hard. Your sword is sent flying, and post landing, is stepped on by a smirking Nessa.

You need a sword, you think as you dash back away from Jessica's strokes. You need a sword! You have no idea what to do without one! More power floods into you, but it doesn't feel like it did before.

Before you used power that felt like hot blood flowing through you form the outside, but this is ice, coming from deep inside.

A shadow erupts from your hand, and Jessica leaps back. It twists and writhes, finally settling into a shape. It is probably as tall if not a bit taller than you, half as wide as you are at the shoulders, with an angled knife point. Near the hilt a small section of the sword floats free, twisting and turning in the shape of the mark upon your brow.

You step forward to meet Jessica, your incredibly light shadow sword slicing through the air as it comes down. She takes a knee and braces herself as the blade comes down upon her shield and cracks it.

Your first thought that something is wrong is the wail. Its terrible, and full of fear. Jessica is the one making it as she scrambles back away from you (thankfully there's only a little blood, you didn't chop her hand off).

"Jess!" Ophelia and Nessa dash forward, to their fallen family member.

Jessica is now back against the wall, her head between her knees, and her hands over her head. She's babbling in terror now. You drop your sword as you notice a puddle beginning to form underneath her.

You have no idea what to do. You have no frame of reference. You feel so guilty, you never wanted to hurt Jess. You take a step forward, to maybe go help, only to be stopped by a hand across your chest.

"I am truly impressed, Theo," your father offers you a smile.

Something with you vibrates twice before falling silent.

"The level of skill was amazing, the fear effect, the... lightshow! And you can make your own swords out of shadow! Such an impressive set of powers!" his hand comes down on your shoulder. Aaron looks to where his fiancee is working.

"A fear effect... Like Glory Girl? I certainly didn't want to attack him if I could avoid it. And a sword like Brandish, plus the glowing affect like Purity..." Aaron looks back to you and your father. "Max, if I hadn't seen the floor I wouldn't believe you about where Theo triggered.

"Father? Shouldn't we..." you gesture to the women and a still sobbing but calming down Jessica.

"They can handle it, you'll have your chance to beg forgiveness once she calms down. Now, it is before the holiday, and I have no desire to truly get into talks with you... But I would be very pleased if you took your proper place within the Empire."

Theo's response:
[] Of course. But we will speak terms later?

[] What if I wanted to be a vigilante?

[] If I wanted to join the Wards?

"When will the light show end? Theo can you?" Aaron makes a motion with his hand.

"No, I- I think its out of my control, sort of. I can control how it acts but not how," you make your own motions, unsure of the proper words, "big? bright? I do know it'll take about another fifteen minutes before it just surrounds me."

"Something to take into account for tactical purposes," he mentions pointedly to you.

The three of you fall quiet and watch as Jessica eventually stops crying in fear and uncurls.

Jessica finally comes over, supported by her sister and cousin. Her eyes are red and she's still sniffing.

"Jessica, I am so sorry, I-"

"It's alright Theo, you're as new to your powers as we are," she gets out, giving you a watery smile, "I just wish it hand't made me piss myself."

You should make this up to her somehow.

"Shall we, shall we call it a draw then? No one wins. And I'll owe you a favor?"

Jess snorts.

"Oh, you totally won the moment you brought the hard-light sword out, I couldn't keep up, you were so fast. I got super lucky I managed to knock the first sword out of your hands. How about we call it a draw, we both win, and you owe me a favor?"

That's a fantastic idea and you say so. Mostly because as bad as you feel, you get sex.

"But," she wipes at her nose, "not tonight, I'm completely drained, and you have a gym to clean up."

Goodbyes and goodnights are exchanged as you look at the mess you now have to clean up.

While you clean and as you trudge up the stairs to your room, the light fading and the blood from your forehead stops flowing, you think up how you'd like to go about being a cape. Your costume thematics (but not the costume itself, you'd like to talk to someone about it first, but the colors, the kind of direction you want the costume to go in), your cape symbol (maybe the mark on your forehead? Or something else?), though you're pretty sure the Dark Prince counts as a cape name.

You could make it work if you were a hero, you think as you strip down, lamenting the lack of properly fitting PJs and underwear. You snuggle into your covers, readying yourself for a good night's sleep. You could just be the Prince if you were a hero.

Or maybe, something even completely different?

Theo's cape stuff:
[] Costume colors, theme (French Musketeer or Landsknecht or Pirate would be different themes), mask ideas

[] Cape symbol, for Hero's its what goes on their products, for someone like Kaiser its their personal gang tag

[] Cape name if different than the Dark Prince

XP gained: 4xp
Resonance gain: 2

=====
I lied. Jessica was going to get hurt in any option that got chosen.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 20, 2015

*Ahem* After consulting the rules to make sure I haven't gone over any lines, I have decided to issue a 'Questionable' warning. I believe everything sexual in this snip falls under [Listed under 'Questionable' and it is considered polite to give a warning] 'Written scenes that heavily imply any kind of sexual conduct (even if the sexual conduct itself would be illegal), so long as it remains at implication, and does not cross over into explicit explanation/description.' without getting into [Definitely NSFW] 'Written Fiction that contains graphic descriptions of Gore or sex. (Saying 'They fucked like rabbits' and using suggestive imagery is okay, spelling out all mechanical details is not.)' Not trying to rules lawyer by any means, just trying to follow the rules.

=====

That night you dream.

Its a very nice dream.

The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears is featuring prominently, glistening with what are presumably tears and not much else.

"Dark Prince," she purrs as she gets up and descends from her throne, "Come, sit with me."

You are, well, still hormonal, and the sight of the Lover is a bit much for your virgin eyes, and you are struck dumb. But she smiles as you finally manage to bumble out a polite greeting, and takes your hand. She leads you to a bench near her dream throne where you both sit, very close to one another and still clasping hands.

"Tell me of your world," she commands, "I found it very interesting that your former family acted as if the Exaltation was something that could happen. Were you Dragonblooded?"

"No, my, uh," again you stumble through a response, unsure of what to call her.

"I am your Liege, Dark Prince," she cuts in smoothly with a smile.

You clear your throat.

"No, my Liege, my... Theo's father and his father before him are parahumans. It was expected that I-Theo would trigger with his own powers, and take up his place within their criminal organization."

"And what are parahumans?"

And so you tell her everything you know about parahumans. She frowns when she hears about glowing golden man, Scion. Eventually you are telling her everything you know about the Empire and its parahumans, and the greater area of Brockton Bay.
When you finish, she hums thoughtfully before standing. And in a very classical Liege way, gives you your orders.

"Hear me, Dark Prince, and receive your immediate mission," she says imperiously as you slide off the bench and take a knee in front of her. It only seemed right, you are her servant, aren't you?

"You are to build a powerbase, independent of the government of Brockton Bay. In addition, you will gather knowledgeable sages to your side. The world of Earth Bet must become known to me, and so you will be an extension of my power and will, and through me the will of the Neverborn."

That... lines up rather nicely with your own current plans. Taking over the Empire would surely count as building a powerbase.

"It will be done, my Liege," you intone, head bowed.

Soft hands take your face in them and raise you to look at her sultry smile.

"I know it will be, I have faith in you," her sultry smile and her intense eyes become downright lustful, and your body reacts, "Now that business is concluded, let us indulge in the other."

Even as you stand, your blush grows, and your excitement wars with doubt and desire to not disappoint.

"I've never lain with a woman before, my Liege, I-"

Whatever you were going to say is cut off as she pulls you into a kiss. With tongue. And roaming hands. Their cool flesh feels amazing on your suddenly hot skin.

"It is of no consequence, it has been some time since I have had a virgin. Let me teach you the ways to please a woman."

What little she is wearing is divested, and her roaming hands set about relieving you of your own dream clothes. She pulls you back with kisses and seats herself on the bench, pushing you to your knees, her legs -

[CENSORED]

"Oh my! It's been even longer, unf, since I've had, mmm, someone so enthusiastic!"

[CENSORED]

"Yes, there you go. Just, ooooh, just like that."

[CENSORED]

"No, that way is fine too! You'd be surpr-" she squeals a little, drawing out the 'i', "-ised how many men- shades, that's good- refuse to go there."

[CENSORED]

[EXTRA CENSORED!!!]

You collapse and sit against the bench, your chest is heaving and you're both glistening, but otherwise she is just as perfect as she was when she disrobed. Except her hair. It has this ruffled look that really adds to the absolutely seductive (and you like to think it's also satisfied, but you've never seen that kind of look before) look she sports.

Then she stretches and stands. The Lover smiles down at you and offers you a hand up. You take it and, though her frame belies such strength, she hauls you to your feet.

"And finally, before you leave to the waking world, I have something for you." her face becomes stern, "It is very difficult to do this, Dark Prince, so do not expect it often."

You trail behind her as she leads you to a set of large dream doors, and take the opportunity to watch her swaying hips, long legs, and currently naked bottom.

If only this wasn't a dream, then you wouldn't be a virgin. But it has been a very, very nice dream.

Then the doors swing open and you realize the Lover is showing you an armory. She turns and spreads her arms out, doing amazing things to her body. She glances down and snorts in amusement. You are fifteen, but even you're surprised. The two of you had been very thorough.

"You may choose two items from this side," she indicates her left, your right, "or a single more powerful artifact from the other side."

The Lover steps to the side and allows you to pass and you inspect the weapons and armor. Some of the blades are huge, and they all seem to be made out of some dark metal that screams and moans.

"My Liege, what metal is this?"

"Soulsteel, Dark Prince. It is crafted from the souls of men and turned to steel. Their anguish and suffering is eternal."

And that isn't all kinds of creepy. But you continue to look.

Eventually you settle on:

The Lover's gift(s) to The Dark Prince
[] Two one dot Soulsteel Artifacts
-[]Write in

[] One two dot Soulsteel Artifact
-[]Write in

You indicate your choices, she nods and then sashays over to you, gives you one more soul searing kiss and you wake up.

You blink rapidly.

Why are you standing naked in the dining room?

A cough gains your attention. You whip around and cover yourself. Nessa and your father are standing there in the archway, with Jessica having used her power to look over their shoulders, and heads.

Almost instantly the twins devolve into squabbling as Jessica makes smug comments, and Nessa is needling her with glee. Your father spares them a look and palms his face.

"Theo, we have an appointment with Old Johann at nine o'clock in two and a half hours. Find something that fits decently. Now. And take that with you."

A finger is jabbed at something at your feet and your father shuffles off mumbling about coffee and it being too early. Quite honestly you are sure your face is all but on fire as you quickly grab the artifact(s) off the floor and scoot out the other door of the dining room, doing your best to not attract the attention of your now bickering cousins.

Holy shit! You choose this/these! In the dream!

The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears is real?!

=====

XP gained: 2xp
+12 motes

The Lover padded TDP's confidence a little. All the better to wrap him around her finger.

So, the votes currently open are:

From 06-Thunderstruck(Please re vote):

Theo's response:
[] Of course. But we will speak terms later?
[] What if I wanted to be a vigilante?
[] If I wanted to join the Wards?

Theo's cape stuff:
[] Costume colors, theme (French Musketeer or Landsknecht or Pirate would be different themes), mask ideas
-[]Write in
[] Cape symbol, for Hero's its what goes on their products, for someone like Kaiser its their personal gang tag
-[]Write in
[] Cape name if different than the Dark Prince
-[]Write in

And from 07- Loving the Lover

The Lover's gift(s) to The Dark Prince
[] Two one dot Soulsteel Artifacts
-[]Write in

[] One two dot Soulsteel Artifact
-[]Write in

Finally, XP spending

[]Bank

[]Purchases:
-[]Write in

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 21, 2015

"Of course, I will take my proper place. But we will discuss the terms later."

For a moment you wonder if you made a mistake (again) based of the blank faces of Max Anders and Aaron Oelschlager. Then a smile breaks out on Aaron's face and there is a slight proud gling in your father's eye. Aaron smacks Max on the shoulder. Then he offers you a hand. You take it, slightly confused.

"I knew you had it in you, Theo."

You frown slightly.

"I'd like it if you refered to me by my cape name, The Dark Prince, whenever plausible."

Aaron blinks at you.

"When I am called 'Theo' it reminds me of who I used to be. I don't like Theo. But I would insist on this."

"Very well then, Dark Prince," your father cuts in, "We will comply with your wishes in this."

The moment following the exchange is a bit awkward.

"So," Aaron breaks the silence, "What's with the light show?"

You look down and inspect your robes, and a glance to one of the orbs. You answer is a simple shrug. You know it's tied to using your hot blood pool of power. The ice bucket deep inside doesn't cause anymore light.

"When will the light show end? Theo," he winces, likely remembering your request but he plows on, "can you make it go away?"

======

Wednesday,December 22nd, 2010

After a minute you decide its stupid to carry the breastplate like it was a small child. You were either going to wear it to carry it or use it to cover yourself.

Eh, fuck it, you know where the twins are so unless someone appeared this early in the morning, you should be safe. You take a minute and put on the currently heavy 'God Cloth of the Grave.' The Lover had told you its name (It sounded pretty awesome) and explained that by handling it, and by committing a fraction of your power, you could unlock the artifact's innate power. It would become lighter, you would benefit from the fact it was made from Soulsteel, and... she had smiled enigmatically at the point then assured you that it would be a pleasant surprise.

You didn't expect the mask. It was a simple thing, but designed with the armor's own look in mind. It looked like a 'death mask,' like it had been formed around the face of a dead man. The mask certainly had the look of someone in the comforting, peaceful arms of death. Another bonus was that it was cut, from the corners of the mouth with a slight flare as it reached the bottom of the mask, in such away that it wouldn't actively impede eating, drinking, or speaking, instead of being a full 'death mask.'

The perfectly formed closed black glass was a bit worrying, you would have to double check it wouldn't impede your sight.
Eventually you make it to your room, divest yourself of your gifts, and go about finding something of an acceptable outfit until you met Old Johann.

=====

A while later you and your father are out the door and in the car. On the way to the tailor's shop, you stop at a upscale cafe. Given that it's a little bit away from the regular market area of the city, where a majority of people are due to the approaching holiday, it's sparsely populated.

There is a rather cute blonde girl sitting alone at one of the tables. She has green eyes, a delightful smattering of freckles across her nose, and is sensibly dressed in weather appropriate yet still stylish clothes. And she's staring at you with wide surprised eyes, though a moment later it morphs into a small smile and she gives you a wave.

You are very glad your long heavy coat is covering up your absolutely atrocious choice of clothing. You return the wave, and receive a clap on the shoulder from your father, that he segues into herding you to the counter to answer.

You and Max make small talk for little while, munching at your light breakfasts. About the party tonight, the cut of the suit you are about to get, replacing your clothes, the weather, the recent arrest of a mass-killing shooter in the South, and jokes about those douchebags, the Stansfields.

Perhaps the only thing that you and Max have always been in complete agreement over.

You are interrupted by the cute blonde girl.

"Hey," she says as she stops next to your and centering her attention and body on you, "I have to go shopping, but before I left, I wanted to give you this."

Her nails are seasonal, and it just furthers your descriptor of 'cute.' Its downright adorable. But she's holding the note slightly open towards you. A drop of the ice bucket flows into your being, and suddenly you know she wants you to read it now.

You stand politely, and give her a warm smile. As you take the note, you take her hand in yours and offer a light kiss to the back of her hand.

"A sign of your favor? I would be remiss if I didn't accept such a generous gift."

She giggles appropriately, at the words and the hand kissing, you aren't sure if she means it, or she's playing a part. The slight blush on her cheeks would paint the picture that it might be a bit of both.

"I'm Theo," you introduce yourself as you spread the note open wide enough to read what in it out of the corner of your eye. She has skillfully placed herself in such a manner as to obscure the action from your father.

It has a name, phone number (that is marked secure! And listed as a burner), an e mail address (also marked secure), and an actual message:

'I THINK we can help one another. Call me. -Lisa'

Just who is this girl? A Thinker maybe, given her emphasis of the word 'think.' Or a trained agent of some sort, though she appears to be your age. She could prove to be an incredibly valuable asset.

"Lisa. Call me? Okay, Handsome?"

You nod in response and give her another smile.

With a wink, a rather smug grin, and a swirl she's gone and you stuff the note in your coat pocket and sit back down. There is clear amusement in your father's eyes.

"My son," he wipes away an imaginary tear, "has received his very first phone number. No father is as proud as I am in this moment."

You give him a cool glare in response.

When TDP contacts Lisa:
[] Shoot her a quick email from your smartphone to open a dialogue

[] An email can be sent later

[] Call her right now and ask if she has a dress This will preclude you from asking someone else to go with you.

[] Call her before the party

[] Call her in a few days(Though maybe send an email or text to let her know that you are interested, wouldn't want the contact to evaporate), its the holidays

[] Write in

When you get to Old Johann's shop your are struck dumb, as is your father. Old Johann, who is indeed a very old man being born right before the days the Third Reich in Germany and frequently used the fact that he was old to get away with saying blatantly racist things, had hired a helper.

Who was not only (a rather attractive) female, but obviously Arabic. And visibly a bit irritated about whatever she and Old Johann were talking about as you entered the shop. But your entrance doesn't stop Old Johann as she gives a customer service smile and attempts to greet you.

"See young Theo here! You should marry someone like him, Sabah! A proper upstanding white gentleman! Not some sand nigger trash. A good Arab girl like you deserves better. Marry up, girl, up!"

The spluttering that comes from everyone in the room but Old Johann is rather loud.

======

XP gained: 4xp

Ally revealed: the currently enigmatic Lisa

[] Bank XP

[] Purchase:
-[] Write in

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 25, 2015

In the car, on the final leg of the trip to Johann's Tailoring, you pull out your smart phone and shoot Lisa a quick e-mail.

If she was serious about a date, it couldn't hurt to get into contact. If she wasn't it couldn't hurt to find out what she meant by her note.

Dear Lisa,

I was most pleased to meet you acquaintance. And I hope by contacting you so soon, that I am not being overly forward.

I am busy for the next few days, with family and the holiday, but would be amiable to meeting you over the break. Please let me know what would work best for you, as my schedule is rather free.

I admit, I'm not quite sure to make of the rest of your note.

Yours,
Theo Anders

You are almost to Johann's shop when your phone buzzes with her reply.

Theo,

I see great things coming from our meeting.

Anytime next week works for me, besides aren't boys supposed to decide that kind of stuff? I know boys are supposed to give their numbers to girls too, but I just couldn't resist when I saw you.

And the note means what you THINK it means.

I feel the same way about my 'uncle' as you do your father, we might be able to help each other out.

Hoping to hear from you after your party,

Lisa

Definitely a thinker then, she all but confirmed it. You are going to have to figure out an appropriate time to meet her with some sort of backup in case its a trap. Someone you can trust to do as told.

Or arrange for the 'date' to happen at an Empire restaurant, where you'd have some sort of immediate backup if things go south.

She did give you a blank check to decide what to do with the date.

There were a few establishments on the Boardwalk that were very nice, and the view over the bay was nice/romantic at night (or so you've heard from the girls in your circle).

Not to mention there was Braum's over on K street, within Empire territory, that was sure to dazzle any girl.

Your wealth could intimidate her, maybe something a little less upper class? Ease her into how stupidly rich you (the Anders family) are for this city.

She is a thinker. She could be laying a trap for you, you could lay one in return. It would be difficult to gather a competent and loyal crew in such a short amount of time.

Where Theo meets Lisa:

[] A more neutral location like somewhere on the Boardwalk, would require some sort of backup. But capable of being up to snuff.

[] Braum's or a similar establishment. Dinner AND Dancing.

[] Something a little more upper middle class(On edge of Empire territory), as not to intimidate with wealth, but still enough to wow. Followed by a movie?

[] Set a trap for Lisa, its only right to be cautious.

[] Write in

You would have to send her an e-mail later as you have arrived at Johann's to get your suit and the beginnings of a nice wardrobe, though at most you'll only have two suits at the end of the day. One perfectly tailored (and much nicer) and one sized correctly.

You'll have to visit a more standard clothing store to replace the majority of your clothes.

When you enter, neither you or your father expected to hear, before you even greeted Old Johann, such strange and embarrassing words. Nor did either of you expect to see an attractive Middle Eastern girl.

"See young Theo here! You should marry someone like him, Sabah! A proper upstanding white gentleman! Not some sand nigger trash. A good Arab girl like you deserves better. Marry up, girl, up!"

The double surprise sent you and Max into indignant and surprised sputtering. You'll have to cherish the memory later of your father being caught with his metaphorical pants down by words. The girl, Sabah, sputtered in indignity and outrage.

Just like that, you are caught up in Johann's pace.

"Max, Theo," Johann greets you jovially, "here, give me your coats! Max, we shall go drink coffee while Sabah earns her paycheque. Sabah, Theo needs a whole wardrobe, get him started, while an old man indulges in his coffee!"

And your father is whisked away, leaving you and a woodenly smiling Sabah.

"Hello," she gets out around her gritted smiling teeth, "Welcome to Johann's Tailoring. My name is Sabah and I will be assisting you today."

"Hello, Theo," you approach her and offer a hand, "I'm sorry, you have my empathy. Johann has been like that for longer than I've known him."

You tap the exposed skin on your wrist with your free hand. You then indicate yourself and shake your head.

Her smile relaxes a little bit into something a little more genuine, as she takes you hand and eyes your baggy, ill-fitting clothing with a critical eye.

"You really do need a new wardrobe don't you? What happened?"

"My clothes that fit are no longer usable. And I do need a whole wardrobe. I must apologize in advance, I don't know my current sizes."

Not a lie, but certainly not the whole truth.

Sabah still gives you a slightly suspicious look. And then realization at what you said settles in and a blush erupts on her face.

"Not even underwear? You are wearing something, correct?"

You nod.

"Ill-fitting as it is, I am not going commando."

There's some more blushing on both your parts as you get your waist (you have to repress the arousal, her breath tickles your lower belly when she leans in a bit too close) and a few other things measured(you don't quite succeed when she measures your inseam, but it only gets to half mast before she's done and makes no comment), and are ushered into a changing room to put on a new pair, and a new undershirt.

"You know," you muse through the curtain, "Johann might be wrong. You might not be an Arab by his standards. If you aren't, I bet he'll stop giving you a hard time."

"My family fled Iraq in the late 70s," she calls from where she's presumable gathering jackets and pants close to your size, sounding like she's explaining something incredibly obvious.

"Why?" you ask genuinely curious.

"The government was deporting all the Moaved. We are Moaved. Instead of going back to Iran, my family came to America."

You muse on that for a second, and leave the changing room. Her blush is gone, and it doesn't make a quick return, despite how your undershirt clings to your new muscles. You take the offered shirt and put it on.

"So you're ethnically Iranian?"

"Yes," she answers in a confused tone and hands you some pants, "What does that have to do with being white?"

"Johann, if you didn't know, was born in Nazi Germany, and was in the Hitler Youth, but isn't very academic. He equates being white with being Aryan. But science and by the laws passed in Nazi Germany, Indo-Iranians or Persians, are Aryan. If you're ethnically Iranian, you're Aryan. Which will get him to stop calling you, or treating you like you're blessed to be mentored by him, or whatever."

Sabah stops everything she's doing and gives you the most incredulous look.

"You look like I killed your puppy," you say with amusement laced heavily in your voice.

"I'm white?!"

"You are Aryan," you correct, with a bit of a mocking tone, as you take the jacket from her, "Not the ideal Aryan, but better than any 'sub-human.' I only know because Father's something of a World War Two buff."

The silence that follows is a little uncomfortable for Sabah, you don't even need your powers to tell, as she measures and tacks the clothes. You probably did just upend her racial world view. Though you get a spectacular view down her shirt in return. She's even on her knees, while she's pinning your pants.

Maybe talk about something else? Until Johann gets back. You're a little surprised that your father hasn't come out of the backroom, covered in the old man's blood and still in shock.

"Why do you work here, if Johann upsets you so much?"

She looks up from pinning your sleeve.

"I'm a fashion design student," she explains around the pins in her mouth, "and the school isn't very informative on actually making suits, beyond following the pattern. Only Johann was hiring, and I was only hired because I was the only one to apply in the past few months. Apparently I've grown on him."

There's a little more silence as she switches sleeves, obviously contemplating her words.

"At first it was barely tolerable, cut an old man some slack right? Then I was deemed competent, and somehow it got worse. He goes on and on about me marrying a 'proper white gentleman' and 'purging the inferiority from my line.' And now, you've dropped the Aryan bomb on me."

She shakes her head, with a wry grin, and inspects her work.

"Looks alright, time to take it off and I'll get stitching."

And now you need something to pass the time since you've been abandoned by the other men in the building.

"Do you have a portfolio of your designs for me to look through while you work?"

The look you receive could be described as radiant. Soon, enough you are seated, leafing through a sketchbook, and listening to Sabah work on your suit.

It's quite good work. Lots of European, especially Classical Era, styles. You even spot a few of the more traditional Europeans styles. There's obviously some fusions or modern twists on those, and the new designs are very good as well.

The men's style section surprises you a bit, given that you thought all female fashion designers would design just female styles. But Sabah is here, working under Johann, learning how to make suits.

"A lot of European styles and inspirations in here," you comment offhandedly, eyeing Sabah out of the corner of your eye.

"European styles have evolved drastically over the centuries and decades. In comparison most other cultures has used the same basic styles for hundreds. Its interesting. Europe is interesting. Eventually I want to open my own shop, if I'm lucky, have my own line of Euro-inspired clothes for men and women."

A woman with ambition, and an admiration of (hopefully, it extends to the entirety of) European Culture.

What Theo should do now:

[] Ask Sabah if she wants to go to the party tonight, as a way to get her style out there. In return, you get a discount on a future commission. You get a beautiful girl on your arm, she gets exposure, and you also get a discount. You'll also have to explain yourself to your father.

[] Ask Sabah if she's taking commissions now. You could use a gift of a nice dress to butter up a girl, like Gwen or Kayden.

[] Sabah is a very nice (newly revealed) Aryan girl (and older), ask her out, as in a date. There will be much explaining to be done.

[] Pass on asking her anything that doesn't just carry on the conversation. Fuck you're bored.

[] Write in

XP Gained: 4 xp

[] Bank

[] Purchase:
-[] Write in

======
Sabah thinks that telling Old Johann she's Indo-Iranian and therefore Aryan is going to get him to cut back on encouraging her to marry, she is very, very, very, wrong.

Edit: Tryna fix the Nazi dick-sucking.

Skitzyfrenic · Jun 27, 2015

"So," Sabah picks up the next part of your conversation, smoothly but her tone is less cordial than before, "Your dad is a World War Two buff? Does he specialize in little red flags with a swastika on them?"

Oh goody, more people thinking you are a Nazi. (Though, you will admit having more than a passing knowledge of the Nazi ideology is somewhat suspicious in Brockton Bay) Not like Victoria Dallon hasn't ruined your social life at Arcadia by frequently mentioning that Max Anders is suspected to be a white supremacist. Its not like you go around pointing out how New Wave is guilty of several crimes including emotional child abuse.

(Just look at Amy Dallon and the way Carol Dallon publically treats the greatest hero on New Wave's roster as the least, and all of those 'Panacea and my daughter, Glory Girl' moments. If that isn't indicative of emotional abuse, you'd eat your hat.)

Well, he is, and you're not, but that's a bit besides the point. Its incredibly rude. And, frankly you're a bit tired of it.

You don't want to cloak yourself in fear and death like you did against Jessica, but you do want a little more 'oomph' behind you right now. Your face becomes grave, and you let indignant aggression bleed into your stance, as your forehead cracks open and blood leaks down your face.

"We are not our parents," you snap as you stand, "I understand that the conversation we had before is uncomfortable, but it gave you an out with Johann's fascism. One that wouldn't get you fired."

Sabah is looking at you eyes wide.

"I know that if I confirm whether he is or isn't, the next words out of your mouth will be imply the same about me. Because I know things. Because I am educated about and do not wish to see a repeat of a great baseless tragedy. I am tired of people thinking that because I am white and wealthy in a city with a neo-Nazi criminal organization that I must be a neo-Nazi. I resent that inaccurate conclusion, Miss Sabah!"

Are those tears beginning to form in her eyes? Her lip is trembling a bit. You've overdone it. And consequently you feel bad. Sabah is a nice girl, you just wanted to make it clear how offensive you found what she was implying.

You take a deep breath and calm yourself. You offer the poor girl you've nearly driven to tears an apologetic and sheepish smile.

"I apologize, Miss Sabah, I lost my temper. Never-the-less my point remains, education does not mean bigotry, just like it does not mean free-thinking."

She sniffs and pulls a handkerchief from one of her pockets. She dabs at her eyes. Sabah looks at you and offers a similar smile back.

"I'm sorry, Theo, I didn't mean... You're bleeding!"

That you are, you dab at your forehead with your fingers and pull them back to look at their red stained tips. You attempt to wave off Sabah, but she is already in your space dabbing at your face with the cloth she just dabbed at her eyes with. Not wanting to let her see the perfect cut of your mark, you manage to trap her hand as it goes to wipe the blood away. A quick moment later and you are the one holding the handkerchief to your forehead.

"Thank you," you offer quietly and genuinely.

As you sit in the incredibly awkward silence, you again curse your seeming abandonment by the elder men, who are apparently having sex with the coffee machine. Sabah is still standing near you, seemingly a bit lost. You had an idea earlier and now might actually be a decent time to bring it up.

You pick up the sketchbook that had fallen from your lap. And start flicking through it again. You can feel a bit more blood weep out into the cloth you're holding to your head. You're not sure when you'll get used to that feeling.

You project honesty, some excitement, and a little bit of inspiration. You also instantly know that she doesn't want to offend you again, despite also wanting to go have some non-lewd private time.

"Sabah," you say, drawing her attention to her designs, "I have to say I'm really impressed by your work. You have a real talent here. But, as I'm sure you already know, you need more than talent to succeed in fashion."

Sabah looks intrigued, and a bit confused, but offers a nod of confirmation. You give her another smile, and manage to coax one out of her.

"Image and exposure are critical, and I think I might be able to help you with that. There's a large party tonight that has many politicians, the city's wealthy, representatives from the PRT, the Protectorate, and the Wards. What is most important is that many of the politicians bring their teen and college aged daughters. Who, from personal experience with many of these girls, love spending money on fashion."

You give her a moment to let it start to sink in. Her excitement is building a bit, though suspicion is starting to show.

"I happen to have two tickets, and no one else to bring. I'd be happy to bring you along with me for a da-" you tongue might have just tripped on itself, "a discount on my next purchase? It would be a fantastic chance to show off your designs in person."

You know that your cheeks are red, and its not because of the blood. Sabah pick up on it though, given the quirk of her lips. Overall, though, she is looking a bit disquieted.

"Did you just ask me out?"

You've been caught out.

"It'd be strictly business, a chance for you to get your name out there," you say trying to recover, though you aren't entirely successful as her lips quirk again, "Unless, you'd like it to be something more?"

Now she's sporting a full grin and is amused.

"I forgot how clumsy some guys can get when asking a girl out. It was a nice try though."

She heads back to work, and quite frankly, you're a bit bummed. Sabah seems to be thinking a lot harder than before, and the minutes pass quietly save for the sound of your suit being tailored.

By the time she speaks up again, your forehead has closed up.

"It can be just business? Not funny business, or hank-panky business? We arrive separately, enter together, I'm free to go talk about my wares, you're free to flirt with other girls, and then we go home separately?"

You nod slowly at her strangely intense and piercing stare.

"There would have to be a modicum of 'date' to it, but just enough to say that we're there together, whether it's a pleasure date or a business date. Instead of something that might paint you as..."

"Using my body to seduce you for my own gains and then dumping you as soon as I got what I wanted."

Sabah is a sharp one. You hope that whatever the outcome of taking her to the party is positive. Having her as an asset could come in handy. She has ambition, maybe fronting some capital? It would diversify your portfolio.

She nods sharply.

"I'll go, as a business," she stresses the word, "deal. When does the party start?"

"Technically six, but no one really starts arriving until seven."

The rest of the time being taken to tailoring your suit is full of discussion about what Sabah actually has. Your conversation is briefly interrupted when you remove yourself to the bathroom to clean up. On the way back out you grab your wallet. You remove forty dollars from it and lay them on the table.

The indignation in her eyes builds rather rapidly.

"For the handkerchief, blood doesn't come out easily," you state quickly.

Luckily, you only have to survive a brief death glare, followed by a quick thank you. Discussion head back to what she's going to wear.

Sabah's dress and jewlery:

[] Write in/Art/Picture

Finally your father arrives, with Johann in tow. It's been hours. Old Johann for his part gets you a few more upscale things that don't need to be tailored, for day to day use, until such time you can get tailored things. He also starts needling Sabah about marriage. And being Arab.

"Mr. Heimer," she states smoothly over his correction of 'Herr,' "Theo here told me the most interesting tidbit about myself. You see, my family is from Basra, Iraq. But before that my family came from southern Iran. I'm Indo-Iranian, or Persian, not Arabic."

Old Johann shoots you, then your father a grim look. When your father nods, the old coot breaks out into a wide smile.

When you left forty-five minutes later, you were still shooting Sabah apologies with your eyes. Old Johann is a bit more educated about Nazi matters of race than you thought. She was being subjected to a list of suitably young men that Johann knew.

"Mr. Heimer."

"Herr Heimer."

His correction goes ignored, yet again.

"I'm going to the party tonight with Theo. There's no need for your matchmaking."

Ah, her revenge, just as you leave. Such a crafty one. The gleeful words of Old Johann drift away as your father is practically dragging you to the car, stone faced. The tailored suit is stored, and you slip into the car.

The beginning of the ride is done in silence, and you take a moment to e-mail Lisa back with an idea of where to have your meeting.

=====
There's a nice dinner and dance place on the Boardwalk, Fire & Ice. Its expensive enough, and exclusive enough, to warrant calling ahead for seating, but isn't so upscale that well-to-do families or college student with some extra money can't go.
Upper middle class at best.

But it does have the advantage of more private booths in the back, a hold over from the Bad Old Days, when independents and villains would meet to discuss terms. It wasn't Somer's Rock level of neutrality, not much can match a deaf barkeep, but it was better than drawing attention by going to a place known to be a meeting place.

It would be a nice dinner, with some discussion, and if things went well, some dancing. Even if she feels the same way about her 'uncle' as you do about your father, it would look very much like a date. Giving the both of you proper excuses.
With how she acted earlier, Lisa will be able to play the part of girl being woo'ed by a wealthy young man well. Through proper conversation, you should be able to suss out her powers, or have a good idea of what they do and how to use them.

The reply is a interesting.

YOU CAN GET US INTO FIRE & ICE?! Of course you can. You're Theo Anders, you make more in pocket change than most people earn.

I hear its the best place for underage people to go have more club type fun. I'm wicked excited! Yeah, Tuesday works for me.

I'm really glad that we can help each other if it means I get to have fun too!

======

Shortly after receiving Lisa's reply your father speaks. His eyes are forward and his words are weighty.

"Its never been about race, Dark Prince."

The incredulity on your face would be worthy of a 'funny video' show. Max looks at you, before returning his attention to the road.

"Its always been about power. I simply inherited a racist power structure from your grandfather and it gives me power. I am not superior because of my skin color, or even my birth. I worked hard, Theo, to make MedHall what it is, and keeping it legal, barring hiring practices, so that you and Aster would have something when I died."

Another heavy look is shot your way.

"I don't particularly care about skin color, I care about usefulness. The Empire is useful. And as such I use it to the best of my abilities and fulfil my obligations to the organization. This organization is something that you will inherit from me."

"You asked that girl to the ball, and played the party line well enough, that you can satisfy the hunger for power with having a beautiful and ambitious young woman on your arm brings and without destroying your ties to your already established power. You were then going to wait until we showed up at the party to tell me, forcing my hand in a splendid, if amatuer, power-play. I approve. You keep it up and you will make a fine King one day."

Theo's Response:

[] Disbelief - "No way, why didn't you say something before if that was true?"

[] Agreement - "That's... rather close to what I was thinking. Minus hormones."

[] Denial - "That's not it at all! She's simply useful social camouflage. Half of Arcadia already thinks I'm an E88 sympathizer. Its to get the heat off of me."

=====
XP earned: 4 xp

Theo's Training:

Theo will have a single training block of 5 hours (one training day) in the afternoon.

[] Write in

[] Purchase:
-[] Write in

[] Bank

=====

Sabah's actions:

Sabah and her response to TDP. The part where she was trying to find out if he was a Nazi was one of Theo's hot-buttons, and he can be rather scary even if he isn't full Dread Lord. But his apology was heartfelt (and social-fu'd to be a better apology) and so Sabah could work past it. She has been asked out prior to her trigger, when she was younger, but people weren't fucking cock smoochers about her rejection back in middle and high school.

Sabah is a bit business savvy. TDP is Exalted, and trying to be somewhat subtle which leads to something of a bi-polar disorder. If TDP delivers, Sabah is in a really good spot. It increases her socio-economic standing by a lot. Sabah realizes this and is willing to swallow her doubts and fears for this chance. Especially since there will be Law Enforcement at this party (PRT/Protectorate) and she is denying TDP any real chance to do anything untoward by arriving and leaving separately.

She's a smart girl, and the rolls said she was gonna do it as a business deal. It would take some social fu at the party to get her to change her mind from business partners-ish to friends-or-more (Plus her pesky sexuality).

If the part goes well for Sabah on any level, and enough attention is payed to her, TDP will gain the 'Business (Sabah's fashion)' intimacy and 'Sabah's currently unnamed business' as a resource. It won't make the resource background go up at all (yet), but it will provide some benefits, such as ease of access to high end clothing for women. Or for TDP if he doesn't want to go to Johann's. It will also, if it goes well, unlock Sabah as the default date to any socialite type party TDP goes to.

Keep doing well by Sabah and she will become an ally and TDP will find out who she is some of the time (Parian). Post Leviathan this could be REALLY awesome, but it is a long way away.

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 1, 2015

You mull your answer over. It could be some sort of test. You'd really rather not get stabbed again, or be cut off from your rather sizable allowance. You settle on commenting on the power play and skirting around what your father said. Forcing him to explain further.

"That's... rather close to what I was thinking. Minus hormones."

When Max chuckled you relaxed a little bit, but not entirely.

"Even so, why didn't you say anything before?"

There's a creak of leather from your father's gloves on the steering wheel.

"I had to make sure you'd toe the party line. Whichever came first, your eighteenth birthday or your trigger, I'd sit you down and explain it to you. Your grandfather, he was a true believer. Sharon, she believed enough. Heith believed. I didn't care, I was better because I was better. I had to make do, you will have to make do. Don't think that Jessica and Nessa haven't noticed your dissent, or James."

James Smith. Krieg, Gwen's Uncle. The Gesellschaft contact within the Empire. A believer if there weren't any else.

"James is going to oppose your rise to power, unless he can tie you firmly to Gwen, and rule you through her and the Empire through you, until such time he isn't needed; or you prove a valuable enough sympathizer, if not an outright believer. The Empire is not powerful enough to upset the Gesellschaft."

"Toe the party line? You had to make sure I'd spout my superiority based on an accident of birth?"

"Yes. I didn't want the Gesellschaft to come after you. They probably will go after Aster if I can't pull Kayden back into the Empire. They don't like letting go of parahumans. It was a fight and a half to let Night and Fog retire. It would be a war to get them to let you or Aster go."

Okay, that shit won't fly. The Society will get theirs.

"I might not be the best family man, or the best father, but I try. You and Aster will live long, fruitful lives if I have anything to say about it. Theo..."

He trails off.

A drop of cold-bone power flows into your veins, and your forehead doesn't split open. Holy shit! You didn't have to bleed every time you used your power. You would have to be careful, the cold-bone power was much smaller than the hot-blood power.

But you've used this power before and you inspect your father.

He really just wants to make sure you and Aster live well.

This sure as fuck upsets your world view.

"Theo," his voice is thick, "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to trigger in the first place. A life of violence for the last piece of Heith I have? A life of violence for my quiet son? You could just have MedHall and do your own thing. And then you trigger when I all but kill you."

The rest of the ride is quiet. You're not sure if you want to forgive him.

On one hand, you got sweet ass powers out of it. On the other, he did kill you.

Max seems to understand this, without you even voicing anything. He's probably thinking the same thing, all the while beating himself up.

=====

That shit was fucked up enough, how many other people have been lying to you your entire life?

You pull a book on body language and another on facial recognition from the study and decide to sit in the mostly empty dining room, where you died. For the next few hours you whittle away the time before you have to go get ready reading.
Right before you have to get ready, you can feel a new pattern forming within your mind/power, highlighting the other patterns for a brief moment. Your new... spell? power? pattern? does something similar to the one you use frequently. It lets you know what the other person wants, what they are aiming for with a statement, and ignore what they were saying.

You feel the patterns, and you can discern a bit better what some of them are for. Half of the patterns/spells/powers involve using a sword. The rest seem to be of use in a social setting. You bet if you were creative, you could find more combat-oriented applications for those social powers. The final power is what let you flip around like one of those badly dubbed kung-fu movies.

You find your father in his study when you return the books.

"I'm a Trump. I just gained a new power. Keep this between us."

You enjoy the gobsmacked look on his face as you leave to go shower and change into your very nice suit. You can't help but notice you feel strangely energized and brimming with power.

Does resting provide power? You didn't feel like this after sitting in Johann's shop for a few hours. Maybe its the dining room?

You could ask the Lover when you dream of her again. Or experiment over the next week. You put it our of your mind and focus on the night ahead.

You know who's going to be there, and you have a business date (that you might be able to turn into something more).

How TDP treats Sabah:

[] She's set her boundaries, cultivating a good relationship will pay off in the long run. Pay enough attention to her that everyone (including Sabah) is sure of who she is there (and friends) with, but not enough to let everyone (including Sabah) think that you are there together.

[] Just flirty enough to let her be sure you wouldn't mind some Persian spice. While that would cut into you possibly getting into another girl's good graces, you'll see most of them at school.

[] You want in those panties! You have powers, convince her. She could have a super-powered, rich boyfriend. But you probably won't be seeing much of anyone else.

[] Write in

TDP's first Target:Attendees

[] Write in
-[] Write in on how to approach said target

======

Jessica and Nessa look absolutely stunning in opposite but otherwise matching slinky red numbers. Of course, you complement them properly. Jessica is giving you eyes that make you sure that she is going to honor her side of the bet, probably when you get home. Nessa gives you a good once over, and fakes a sniff.

"They grow up so fast."

Max offers you a nod, before smiling and ushering everyone into the limo. It was a holiday party, a time for good cheer, and a little politicking. There's plenty of small talk on the ride over, though the twins shriek with good cheer and begin poking fun at you when Max mentions you having found a date, just hours after another girl had given you her number.

Much of their good cheer is lost when you leave the limo and spot Sabah. You go over to her, eyeing her choice in outfit for the night. You can hear Max whispering harshly to them, likely reminding them of who was included in 'Aryan' and some of the modern day allowances that had to be made.

And some allowances would have to be made for Sabah's feminine lord's outfit.

She went for a stylish, and elegant coat, mainly colored silver, with gold buttons and embroidery. The high collar serves to highlight the fluffy and lacy poof of fabric that covered her cleavage, that same laces pokes out of her sleeves. The coat stops short, in the front, of her belt and her white blouse peeks through before running into her silver and gold pants. Her coattails sway as she smiles and walks to you, an excited bounce in her step.

Her boots are sporting low heels and are a dark brown leather, and they clack firmly on the cement.

"Theo! I've already had three people stop and ask me about my clothes and where they came from, I even got an order! I'm so glad I accepted your invitation," she says as she approaches you, your own face now sporting a smile.

You take her hand in yours and bow over it.

"Miss Sabah, I'm glad to see that you've come!"

You offer her an arm, which she takes, a bit of a blush on her cheeks. Perhaps she's never been treated right before? Or it could be the excitement at getting noticed in her chosen field.

And with that, the Dark Prince leads his current lady into the party, just trailing behind your father and cousins.

TDPs general attitude for the night:

[] I'm a motherfucking Prince. Get the fuck at me scrubs.

[] A Prince is the highest of noblemen, treat me with proper respect, peasant.

[] A Prince is the highest of noblemen, and noblemen should be loved by the peasants.

[] I am a humble but proud Prince. Generous to those who please me, terrible in my wrath to those who displease me.

[] Write-in
=====

XP Gain: 4 XP

+10 motes

Charm Gained: Scathing Cynic Attitude

evildice · Jul 1, 2015

SwiftRosenthal said:
This could go hilariously if we use the "Amazing what money can buy." excuse for why we went from fatkid!Theo to TDP: Triumph and his father could think that we're referring to a Cauldron vial.

Oh man, that's plausible yet hilarious. I love it.

Rory: "Just got your powers?"

Theo: "Er, yeah. It was ... unusual. Dad was ... well, I don't want to talk about it."

Rory: "Oh wow. Yeah, my dad helped me too. If you know what I mean." (meaningful look)

Theo: "Oh my god, I thought it was just me. The, uh, dark woman?"

Rory: "Yeah. We can't talk about it, or her."

Theo: "Right. Shit, you're right."

~ A Triumphant Misunderstanding ~

Biigoh · Jul 2, 2015

- - -
Elsewhere...
Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation OMAKE
- - -

Most of the Docks were territory held by the Asian Bad Boyz, or at least a good portion of it.

Everyone knew that the Empire had declared the business district, the northern half of downtown and the trainyard to be theirs.

No one knew what powers Coil had, but it was good enough for his Organization to gain control over half of Brockton Bay's downtown. Some even said that he had tentacles in the legitimate side of things and controlled far more than most suspected.

While the Merchants controlled the portions of the city that no one wanted, the only true territory of value that they had was the ports of the Docks that the ABB didn't want.

Which meant that fights happened now and then over territory.

And yet, there were limits, there were rules. The prime of which was don't cross the line, do not bring the heat down on everyone.

Which meant that fights had to be limited, there were durations that one couldn't go pass, there were weaponry one wouldn't use.

And the current fight had gone far across the line, as tracer bullets from automatic weapons and more... exotic weapons in the form of explosives that did odd things and direct energy weapon were being used... with two abandoned office warehouse buildings being used as fortifications by ABB gangers and the Merchants.

The vagrants, the bystanders had abandoned the area once the first shot had been fired. Which left the police officers who had responded, parked outside the entrance to the street that led down to the no-man's land.

The low rumbling whine of an overpowered futuristic engine was the only hint that the police officers had as Armsmaster drove his motorcycle into the street, without a single hint of fear or concern for the ongoing firefight between the gangers..

The kickstands swiveled into place as he pulled to a stop before the firefight.

There was a soft thud from the soles of his power armor boots as he got off his motorbike. The chiseled chin with its sculpted firm and manly beard, the glimmering blue and silver armor, with the dark visor. Everything about Armsmaster spoke of a man who worked hard to be a hero, to bring the law down upon criminals.

There was a slight cough and sub-vocalization as the mic in his helmet engaged.

He paused for a moment before speaking, allowing the speakers on his motorcycle to position themselves for maximum amplification.

"This is Armsmaster."

His amplified voice was nearly overwhelmed by the continued gunfire.

"I. AM. THE LAW!"

Now, the gunfire slowed down as the gangers took in the power armored figure standing on the street as if without a single care in the world with his ramrod back.

"Drop your weapons! And surrender." He continued relentlessly, with citizens he could be gentle. With minor criminals, what needed to be said was easy. But with the situation he found himself standing amidst, he had to be overwhelming and firm, no backing down or away. "You are all under arrest!"

"This is your final warning."

His last words echoed between buildings.

A pause that dragged on before a portion the wall of the slightly shorter office building was simply carved out by a fossilized stone sword in a single flowing motion.

Armsmaster frowned as he sub-vocalized into his microphone once more, alerting the PRT and Protectorate response team of cape involvement. A new cape that had joined the Merchants perhaps a year ago.

They had assumed that Rose Red was a striker or perhaps brute of some sort. And yet, it had taken months of painstaking encounters before they had worked out what she was.

A tinker, one who had had time to build up a stock of toys.

"I don't know about that." A mockingly cheerful female voice echoed out in amplified counterpoint.

The carved out wall was kicked out to fall on the street, and the Protectorate Branch leader looked with his own eyes at the tinker that some said had taken over the Merchants.

She was tall and slender. The only nod or attempt at modesty was a simple fishnet 'shirt' that served as a short micro dress, and a black thong. A simple visor covered her eyes.

Her forearms were covered by a pair of thick obsidian bracers, the soft glow from within said bracer indicated that it was more an aesthetic sense behind the design of her equipment.

The same could be inferred from her obsidian high heel boots that reached up to her knees as she rested one foot upon the remains of the carved out wall.

Her long curly hair, tied in a pony tail, waved in the cool night breeze.

"Tell you what, Armsy. Seeing as I've been stuck here in Brockton Bay for the last little bit, I've gotten a bit bored." She looked down at the hero and smirked before continuing to speak as she thrust her thong covered crotch in his direction. "So, why don't you suck on my pussy, give my clit a good lick and I'll let you go on your way like the good little boy that you are, and I can get back to my grown up stuff."

The merchants behind her burst out in boisterous cheers and raucous laughter at her reply.

Still, as he looked up at her, he knew this would be... tricky. Given the way that she had fought and captured Shadow Stalker, before proceeding to humiliate her, he knew that she knew the concept of restrain and moderation.

Granted, that might have been because of what she had proceeded to do with the young vigilante; in the sense that she had the unconscious heroine stripped naked but for her mask before being strung upside down from a construction tower crane in the downtown core.

The girl had agreed to join the wards after she was rescued from her bindings of insulated live-wires.

And yet, her reputation might never recover from that single encounter.

This would be tricky, he admitted to himself.

- - -
To be continued... maybe
- - -

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 4, 2015

A drop of cold-bone power flows, and suddenly you have a pretty good idea of what everyone that you can see wants.

You look to the girl on your arm. She's set her boundaries, this is a business date. You decide to respect that, it could very well pay off well in the long run. But it will be something of a fine line of paying just enough attention or paying too much attention.

"I hope," you say giving Sabah a smile as she gives you a quizzical look, "that you'd be willing to deal with some flirting or teasing from me. I'd like to make it clear to other people that we are here together, but not together."

Sabah bites her lip for a second, before wincing and stopping so she didn't ruin her make-up. She wouldn't mind some flirting, you are quite handsome(and rich).

"A little will be acceptable. Just," her voice gets a little shaky, "don't go crazy, okay? This is might be a business date, but I suppose we can both have a little fun. I'm trusting you."

She is, she's also terrified. She really wants the night to go well, and for you to not be... like someone else she knew?

You nod and frown slightly.

"Do you need a moment?"

The lady takes a deep breath, doing wonderful things to the partially obscured outline of her chest. Then a smile blooms on her face. She faces forward, and you take that as a sign, and the two of you catch up to your father and the twins. Jessica shoots you a bright smile and Sabah something of a small glower. Nessa rolls her eyes at her sister's antics.

"Sabah, was it?" Nessa asks sweetly, "Could you step over to the side with us for a moment?"

The twins detach themselves from Max and Sabah pulls her arm from around yours, her smile faltering a little. The three of them move off to just out of earshot.

"I do believe they are laying down the law for Sabah's conduct for the night," Max speaks, "they seemed to accept your reasoning. Also, Nessa wants a pirate version of the outfit Sabah is wearing."

You look at your father's face and you can tell he is forcing it to be stoic. He doesn't want you to know what he thinks about Nessa in a form fitting, stylish pirate outfit.

Probably what you're thinking about Nessa in a form fitting, stylish pirate outfit. Lots of sexy 'Yarrr's and that she could 'shiver your timbers' anytime.

Casting another look back at the girls, they seem to be wrapping up whatever they were talking about and only Jessica's smile is slightly faked. A business card leaves Sabah's sleeve, which you find ingenious (a pocket for business cards in your sleeve!), and goes spelunking in Nessa's cleavage. Then the ladies come back to yourself and your father.
You offer your arm to a still smiling Sabah again, and soon your whole group has entered the ballroom.

"Max Anders!"

Almost immediately your group is accosted by the Christners.

"Mayor Christner, it's good to see you!"

The two older men exchange a handshake as the older women folk begin to exchange greetings. This is a rather old song and dance, Max Anders and Mayor Christner will greet and go off to the side to talk for a little while. In the past, this was where you would head for the tables.

Not this time, you are a Prince. The noblest of nobles. And you stood before who was ostensibly your current king, the Mayor. He may only rule for as long as he kept winning elections, but a king ruling from his palace, either way.

You had been, and most of society still considered you, Theodore Anders, the progeny of the wealthy and influential CEO of MedHall, Max Anders. A few people would say unfavorable things about the Anders family, quietly promoting the caucasians over others, possible ties to Neo-Nazi organizations, and other -some false and some true- things. But none could deny the might of the Anders family in Brockton Bay, they employed many people, held influence on voters, and bore the weight of being one of Brockton Bay's wealthiest families with aplomb.

And so, instead of shying away after initial greetings, you and your current lady present yourselves, and are properly introduced to the Mayor and his family. Most notably, you are formally introduced to Rory Christner and his girlfriend, Samantha("Please, call me Sam."), from New York(who is wearing a spectacularly colored rainbow cocktail dress).

With a broad and confident smile you introduce Sabah, and the drop of power used earlier is returned to you, without ending your thinker power. Your introductions went amazingly well, and everyone will be sure to remember the new Theo(and Sabah!).

Rory is suspicious of you. He's noticed your changes, you had recently seen one another at the food drive ball in November. And he's noticed the look Sam has sent you. Your power informs you she wants to be the meat in a Rory-Theo sandwich. Rory wants to make it clear Sam is his, and his arm around her waist tightens slightly.

The Mayor (along with his wife and young twin daughters) and Max Anders (along with Nessa and Jessica) step off to the side to conduct their usual talks and posturing, leaving you with Rory and Sam.

"Theo, I have to say, you're looking good," Rory gives you a somewhat genuine smile.

A brief surge of cold-bone power, the first thinker power is terminated as the new power you learned that afternoon pours information into your brain.

Rory wants to know if you bought your powers, like he did, and if you did if you'll join the Wards.

How interesting. Rory is in the Wards. You idly wonder which one he is.

Sabah and Sam have begun discussing fashion, you give your answer.

Theo's Answer: If your answer makes Rory think you did trigger/buy your powers, he will try to feel you out for Wards recruitment, which should, honestly, be pretty fucking obvious and this is superfluous.
[] You'd be surprised what money can buy.

[] MedHall, as a medical company, has connections in the medi-Tinker tech field.

[] I decided to stop slouching, and start exercising (Rory hasn't seen you in over 30 days)

[] Write in

Theo's Follow up: This is because I'm trolling you. You totally thought I'd put more pertinent invis-text didn't you?
[] Small talk (forces meeting Rory and Sam as a minor social interaction)
-[] Write in for small talk specifics

[] Small talk followed by guiding Sabah to refreshments so the two of you can hash out a more solid plan for the night.
-[] Write in for small talk specifics
-[] Write in things to suggest to Sabah for the night

[] Write in for major social interaction

=====

+1(+1 over for 2) motes

(-4 motes used +1 from stunt for) -3 motes

XP gained: 3 xp

XP Purchases:

[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

=====

For my fellow Americans, enjoy the Fourth of July. To my Canadian neighbors a belated happy Canada Day. To everyone else, I hope that you enjoy freedom. 'Murica.

Biigoh · Jul 4, 2015

- - -
Emma
Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation OMAKE
- - -

"Nose..."

"Eye..."

"Mouth..."

"Well, you can hide the ears with the hair. So maybe I'll take both. Which will it be?"

With each 'choice' she was given, she could feel the cold touch of steel of One-eye's knife. The thin long blade that tapered to a wicked point.

She almost twitched at the coldness, almost attempted to jerk away. But she couldn't. Was unable to, not with the way that she was held down by his hand.

Her world narrowed down to her body, the pressure from One-eye's hand as he held her down, the coldness of his blade.

"Unh?" She couldn't process, couldn't sort out the information as the terror within her blossomed even as a warm... wetness spread betweeen her legs, as One-eye traced her face once more with his knife. The touch of cold metal was almost gentle.

"One eye, the nose, the mouth, or both ears." The voice was patient, relentless. And yet, the way it drawled with its accent was enough to make her wits and intelligence scatter like chaff. "Yan here thinks she has what it takes to be a member, instead of a common whore, so you choose one of the above, and she goes to town on the part in question, proves her worth."

"Holy shit, Lao... that is so fucked up that she's wet herself." The girl with the eye shadow, Yan, laughed with gleeful amusement, as if from a distance to Emma's ears.

"Pick." That voice hammered in on her thoughts.

Bit by bit, the darkness followed after the spots and purple shadows filled her sight as she found herself focused on the silver reflective surface of the blade as her heart pounded unceasingly.

Ćo̵mmunic͜a͝t͡ìo҉n

̕Ąg̀reement͠

Hęr̕e an͢d͟ No̵w

͘T̶h̀er͞e a͝nd then̛

She looked up, as the twin moons drifted in the darkness... folding in on themselves, countless sinuous tendrils twisting amongst themselves as they bent space and time around their movements. A soft luminous glow spread from the dreadful light in their hearts.

And yet, they were shattering...

Falling apart...

Falling down on the world...

Falling on her.

To crush her into the earth grinding beneath her. Tectonic plates crushing and grinding the filth of the world away. And beneath that, molten earth. Always flowing like the sea with its eternal tides.

And the world sang to her.

An unending song that started in primordial times when the very universe was young.

She found her breath paused on that cusp on in and out, as she heard and listened to the song.

The magnetic fields that spun and pulsed in time with the song, propagating it out into the endless void, to mingle with the other worlds and the sun's songs.

A glorious whole.

That single moment spanned an eternity as she listened to the world's heartbeat, it soothed her, calmed her.

And she knew peace...

Even as she forgot the shattered moons, the insignificant creatures that walked upon her skin... for she was the world.

And the world was her.

That single sublime eternal moment.

Shattered.

And her perception fell, tumbled down from that of the world... into a single human body.

Constrained and bound.

One-eye... no, Lao held the knife to her cheek... the slightest of leaning his arm's weight against to give weight to her decision did not bite into her skin with a warning cut. Despite its sharpness, it might as well be a chopstick for all the blade did to her.

He put more of his weight on the knife and it did... nothing against skin that was marble white and as durable as the very bones of the world. She could feel its sharpness... but it didn't... couldn't cut her. His breath sucked in quickly as he moved away from her body.

She could feel the warmness in her heart beat evenly... guiding her as she looked up.

She was... strong.

No more did confusion cloud her mind.

Purpose and clarity instead filled her.

They were hers as the very world beneath her feet empowered her. It was at that moment, that she realized that the world was hers. That she was free, glorious, and powerful.

A brilliant whiteness flared forth from her body, filled with the sharp lines of gems and crystallized minerals.

Lao's knife clattered to the street, Lao and Emma both looked down at it briefly. He moved to pick it up. She allowed that roiling heat in her heart flow up and out her arm that she thrust at him.

A sphere of nothingness twisted and erupted from her palm... the air screamed in its passage before it struck him, forcing him backwards a step.

There was another single moment as he looked at her in shock before that sphere of unseen force expanded, twisting and swirling outwards for a moment before imploding inwards as he screamed before being silenced.

She looked down at her hand in wonderment, before looking back up at where Lao had stood.

The only evidence that Lao had been there was the splattering of blood.

Beyond that, there was her father's car where a dark figure was unsteadily getting back up on to her feet from when she had fallen. The dark hooded cape that fluttered out of sync with the warm sea breeze that flowed from the general direction of the beach. She could see the whites of the girl's eyes through the eyeholes of the painted black hockey mask.

There was a moment of silent understanding as they looked at each other, followed by a nod. Words were not needed here.

The girl in black swept her cape to one side as she twisted, turning into a mass of shadows momentarily, a living shadow, a translucent and almost transparent blur... twisted around Eye-shadow girl, Yan.

When she changed back, she was in a different posture. She had Yan in a vicious hold, knife hand twisted behind the girl's back.

With a sharp, calculated motion, the arm was twisted a measure too far, the eye shadow girl jerked off balance so the weight of her body would only help twist it further. The girl screamed, dropping the knife, and she flopped to the ground, her arm gone limp, dangling from the shoulder at an angle that shouldn't have been possible.

As Yan flopped to the ground screaming and weeping, Emma could see the girl in the cloak clearly. She was short, certainly younger than Emma. And yet, that impression didn't stay long as she moved, becoming a sinuous black blur of translucent shadows that moved faster than a normal person could.

The thugs who had held her arms were whimpering as they clutched their arms as they bled. It appeared that the white light that surrounded her was, if nothing else, good at hurting people, at scouring flesh like a sandstorm.

That left the woman who had been standing by Emma's father. There was a beat, as Emma looked at the woman who could only look back in shock and horror, before the red head pushed off and slammed into her with the speed and fury of an avalanche. Her small girly fist punched out and folded the older woman in half before she vomited out her lunch into the street of the alley. She felt something give way in the older woman's chest.

Emma turned to look at the cloaked vigilante. The younger girl had flung herself down the length of the alleyway, chasing one of the thugs who had held Emma earlier. He had a hold of Emma's backpack in one hand, open, the contents from the glove compartment falling free. A bag of candy, the driver's handbook. It wasn't much, nothing more than trivial things. And yet, he had taken them because he could.

She raised her hand to shoot a bolt of force at him...

Before lowering it, the knife that had been used by Lao to threaten her was in the younger girl's hand, and she had moved pass him low to the ground, almost horizontally as she pushed forwards with her legs. The knife glided across the back of his knee and he fell, twisting about as he kicked with his good leg.

The vigilante fell as well, her legs tangled by his, tumbling on top of him.

The resulting fight was brief, to the point, and absolutely one sided. One could not grab hold of shadows. He righted himself to push himself up, but only found the heroine already in position to fall on him once more, to slam his face into the pavement with her full weight.

A second later, she pinned his hands to a wooden door to their right with the stiletto.

With that, the fight was over, and Emma found herself breathing out silently as she found the light around her collapse into nothingness.

"Emma," her father said. He was out of the car, gingerly embracing her. It appeared that he had seen the way the light had scoured away at the thugs. "Are you hurt? Emma?"

She could only shake her head wordlessly at him as she enjoyed the hug, the reaffirmation that she lived. That she was still there, alive and unhurt. She looked at the vigilante who had helped. There was a nod from the younger girl in the black cloak as she limped away from the fallen thug before slipped into her shadowy form and drifted away up the fire escape on the sight of the building, untouchable.

- - -

She had researched the vigilante who had helped her online. Who would have saved her if she hadn't gained her powers. She'd gotten a single name... a relatively newcomer to the scene, who went by the name of Shadow Stalker.

But there was no patterns, no evidence of how she could be met.

And so, Emma had returned to the alleyway. The dumpster had been moved, the van was no longer there.

Even so, there was a certain risk of coming back. Of being recognized and pointed at as a parahuman.

"Takes guts."

Emma turned about, a part of her was scared it was her... that somehow the girl with the eye-shadow, Yan, had also gotten powers and had come back. But it wasn't. The girl was dark-skinned and slender, with long and straight hair. There was a lazy air of pent up energy around her, lending her an intense presence.

"Guts?" The red haired girl tilted her head in puzzlement as she mulled over the words of the shorter girl.

"Coming back. The only reason you'd do it is because you were looking for revenge, or you were looking for me. Or both, depending on how cracked you are."

Emma blinked, as she opened her mouth before closing it. This was the vigilante, Shadow Stalker, introducing herself. Declaring who she was. Still, she was here for a reason. "No... I just wanted to thank you."

The girl nodded at that.

"I also wanted to ask you something." That had the other girl's curiosity, and so Emma continued on. "Why do you do this... go about fighting gangers and saving people."

There was a moment of silence.

"There's two people in the world. Those who get stronger when they come through a crisis and those who get weaker. The ones who get stronger naturally come out on top. There's ups and downs, but they'll win out." The vigilante explained. "But just because someone is strong doesn't mean that they can't help those who are weak."

Emma nodded at that, it made a vague sort of sense. "I want to be strong, or stronger than I was."

"I don't do the partner thing, or the team thing." The answer came out flat and almost far too quickly as if rehearsed.

That Emma had gathered, even as if she nodded again.

The other girl's eyes studied her, and she seemed to come to a decision. "It's a philosophy, a way of looking at it all. You can look at the world as a… what's the word? One thing and another?"

"A binary?"

"A binary thing. But not black and white. It's about the divide of winners and losers. Strong and weak, predators and prey. I kind of like that last one, but I'm a hunter."

Emma thought back to how readily the girl had taken the thugs apart. "I can believe that."

The girl smiled. "And what you have to keep in mind, is the biggest question of all is one you're answering for yourself, right now. Survivor or victim?"

"What's the difference?" Emma frowned at that question.

"On this violent, brutish little planet of ours, it's the survivors who wind up the strongest ones of all."

- - -

"I think Gravitas is a good name for me... since my powers are mostly earth and gravity based." Emma looked at Sophia while tapping on one of the names that she had written down on the paper.

There was a frown from the more experienced girl. "Gravitas? That sounds like something that isn't really... scary."

Emma had to roll her eyes at that. "You mean like Glory Girl or Mouse Protector or Alexandria?"

"Point. Gravitas it is. You worked out what you want for your costume yet?"

Here, Emma had to sigh. "Kind of. It's hard... you have it easy with your power."

There was a knock on the door, before the voice of Emma's mother could be heard. "Emma, Taylor's here."

There was a moment of silence as Sophia looked at Emma, before she replied. "I'll be out to talk to her."

- - -
To be continued... maybe
- - -

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 7, 2015

Good news! Have some apartments lined up to look at! In celebration, have a snip!

=====

This was a reversal of an old song and dance. Normally you'd give compliments (frequently genuine), and they'd reply with something uncreative and formulaic. You decide that, in the end, to do the same, with a misleading and reasonable answer.

"Well, it didn't take much," you shrug slightly, "MedHall, as a medical pharmaceutical company, has connections in the medi-Tinker and chem-Tinker field. You shouldn't be surprised what money and connections can do if you really want to change and be... to look good."

Rory gives a nod along with a knowing smile. You tap your cold-bone power source again, he wants to sound out if you plan to join the Wards.

That won't do. You've already made something of a commitment to Max. You need to change the course of the conversation. This is the first time you've met Sam.

"I am very sure we haven't met before this, Sam," you give her a winning smile as you draw her attention away from Sabah, you turn slightly to bring Rory into the conversation as well, "When did you meet this delightful lady, Rory? I hadn't realized you'd gone off to the Big Apple recently."

The two of them blush. They don't want to reveal that they met in costume, but it seems that they'd thought of this question before when Rory's answer comes smoothly.

"You know that I hurt myself and can't play ball anymore, right?"

You nod, sporting a sympathetic look. Rory had been slated to go play Division I in college and go pro after. Really, was a shame he 'got hurt.'

Sam reaches out and places a comforting hand on her boyfriend's bicep. She wants to comfort him, because she knows how much he misses it.

"So, I went to go talk to the Yankees coaching staff about what I needed to do to get on a MLB team's staff," he continues, giving Sam a brief smile.

They're quite into one another, you muse. Sabah, who you can see from the corner of your eye, wants to steal Sam from Rory. And maybe snag you too. Maybe.

That was... certainly interesting.

"Went on a local's tour of the city, met Sam at a cafe, and we just hit it off."

The two of them start making cow eyes at each other. They start leaning into to kiss, and you cough lightly into your hand, reminding them that they are in public.

Now that you've heard about Sam, it wouldn't do to fully introduce Sabah. A light touch to the small of Sabah's back gets her to take a startled half step forward. You give her a quizzical look, before flickering your eyes to your opposites. A half-smile is your answer.

You are thankful that Sabah is letting you lead in this. She wants to do it herself, prove that she's independent, strong enough for this. You note to look into it later.

"Rory, Sam," you make sure to include both of the blushing couple, "Allow me to re-introduce Miss Sabah. She is a very delightful lady who I simply had to bring. She has been a treat even beyond her skills at tailoring and fashion design. Intelligent, witty, funny-"

"And beautifully dressed too," Sam cuts in, and a drop of power returns to you, "We were talking about your dresses, before the boys dragged us back. I didn't get to ask, but why didn't you wear a dress?"

"I wanted to show that I could even make a man's style look good on a woman," Sabah explains, "and to make something of a splash. Get people to remember me, you know?"

Their talk is interesting as it eventually gets into things you didn't know about fashion. Cuts, materials, and so on. But the most important thing that you notice is Sabah's eyes keep diving to Sam's cleavage.

Quick as a whip, but only you seem to notice. Sabah has also scooched a bit closer to you. Perhaps a hand could have been placed between you earlier, but you can feel the heat from her hip now.

Mentally, you frown, and dig out some power for your newest spell(? You really need a better name, sounding like Myrddin would make you the laughing stock of the Empire).

Sabah likes girls, but can't deny that you are very handsome, and is unsure of how to act in front of a boy she might be coming to like on some level when she is also in front of girls.

You resume what power you were using before, just as Rory needs to cover for his father in greeting arrivals. goodbyes are exchanged and you offer your arm to Sabah. Her grip is a bit different than before and she does walk slightly closer to you.
If you didn't have your power, you'd think nothing of it. But her confusion is confusing you.

"Sabah," you say quietly as the two of you make your way to the refreshments table, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but notice where your eyes travelled during that conversation."

Her blush is furious and her eyes take on a defiant look as you hand her a drink from the table and motion the two of you just out of the way.

"I like girls," she states bluntly, "Is that going to be a problem?"

She doesn't want there to be one. Neither do you.

"Just girls?" you ask blandly, before taking a sip.

There's a moment of hesitation, before a small nod. You give her a small smile. She wants to let you down gently, but you don't give her the chance.

"I," you indicate yourself, risking quite a bit, she could take it poor, "also happen to be a connoisseur of the female form, perhaps we can aid one another in romance as we do in business?"

Her face is priceless. Something of a mix of shock, awe, and a dab of interest. In you. She quickly recovers.

"You want to be my wingman?" she asks incredulously.

"And I want you to be mine. So," you wave your hand in a small gesture, "let's mix business with pleasure. Who shall we talk to first?"

Sabah fully recovers, though a small blush has appeared on her cheeks, and again you feel a surge in your reservoir of power. That had been happening frequently, maybe when you take risks you get power back? It definitely would be something to explore later.

Her eyes probe you for a moment, before turning to look out on the floor at the various groups.

"You've been to these parties before, who should we talk to?"

You point out and explain as you go.

The Stansfields stand near Assistant Director Renik, though Dean is over by the younger generation of New Wave, minus Crystal.

The Wards on site, the always adorable Vista, Kid Win, Aegis, and Shadow Stalker, are on PR duty and 'entertaining' much of the early teen and pre-teen crowd. That makes the rather striking red-head in a green dress stand out even more.

Dauntless is rubbing shoulders with Mr. Calvert, you know from previous parties that the skeleton thin man is a consultant for Endbringer shelters and PRT procedures during Endbringer attacks.

Velocity is bouncing from group to group, making small talk. Armsmaster is somewhere nearby. The head of the local Protectorate was notorious for staying at the party proper for just long enough, before patrolling nearby.

Parties like this had been hit before, back during the Bad Old Days, given the concentration of rich people. Armsmaster would pop in briefly every now and again. You might be able to catch him, if you're quick about it.

The elder members of New Wave, including Crystal, were speaking with a well to do family you didn't recognize. They bore a resemblance to the striking red-head over by the Wards.

Other than that, there were a few families you recognized floating about. You pointed out the ones that you would have to say hello to just in passing, and ones for you and Sabah to avoid, in relation to possibly Empire sympathies. Then there were the ones that were in the city's Stansfield camp. The Stansfields owned the biggest IT company in the Bay, and your families did not get along at all.

"Your thoughts?"

Sabah shrugs, and takes up your arm, bumping her hip into yours slightly.

"Up to you, I'll follow your lead, don't fail me now, wingman."

Who talk to?: (You may vote for two minors instead of 1 and 1.)
[] Major (5 left)
-[]Write in

[]Minor (6 left)
-[]Write in

XP Gain: 3 XP

Motes: Net gain -2

Purchased: (Princely Mien ●●○) for 6 XP

=====

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 11, 2015

You think for a moment before a devious smile appears on your visage.

"Let's go after the Stansfield families," you nudge Sabah and nod in the direction of a cluster of girls that have been shooting looks at you. They're aligned with Dean's family, "It would be delightful to pull support out from under them."

Sabah gains a grin of her own.

"Divide and conquer? You knock them off kilter and I'll pull the info from them?"

You offer your arm to her and she takes it, the two of you set off to the group you had indicated earlier.

While it was true that the Anders and Stansfields were frequently opposites on many issues, something that polarized those who did business and associated with either, that did not mean that the political minefield couldn't be negotiated. It would take skill, it would take courage, it would take confidence... but the well of power inside of you didn't care about any of that.

You were the Dark Prince. You power, you, might as well have been screaming to the very weave of the world that you were a prince, and all should know it and be reminded of the way the world should revolve around princes.

Though those you were courting were yet only teenagers, they would inherit the fortunes and power of their progenitors.
And so you struck, wearing your princedom like a cloak, projecting wealth, power, nobility, and prestige. Truly, a princely demeanor. You were an object of admiration to the men, and an object of desires and charm to the ladies.

Sabah benefitted from this greatly, reflecting your demeanor like the moon does the sun. A favoured courtier attending her liege. And so she was looked upon by the men as untouchable and respectable, and to the women as an avenue into your good graces.

You gave rakish smiles to the pretty ones (and even to the not so pretty) and left them gasping and blushing in delight. Sabah would sneak into the conversation then, plying them with her own charms and sweet, honeyed words. Your own nicely settled baritone contrasting her alto perfectly, when you did speak, keeping the girls tittering, and the men from interfering with Sabah's work.

Phone numbers and e-mails were gifted to Sabah and yourself, though more than once a girl would scarper off for a moment, behind a pillar, or to the bathroom and return. What would be stuffed into your or her hands were pieces of still warm fabric. Thongs, tanga, and a single g-string made their way into your pockets, contact information hastily scrawled in make-up on them.

The most delightful moment where one girl actually stuck her hand in your pocket to deliver her contact information, and took the opportunity to cop a feel.

The two of you spent quite some time moving from small cluster to small cluster. By your count you had seven notes, four thongs, two tanga, and that g-string. Sabah had fewer, but had indeed scored more than one set of undergarments, as well as a few orders.

The almost an hour long moment of woo'ing the various girls starts petering out and you get a small surge back into your well of power.

What do with all this info?:
[] Immortalize it. You got your first number from Lisa (it doesn't really count) but you just had underwear shoved into your hands.

[] Co-ordinate with Sabah, later, the two of you could make a 'killing.' Some of the ones that Sabah didn't get contact info from might be willing to let Sabah enjoy them if you are there.

[] Keep it, this info could come in handy later, you already have quite the daunting list of women to bang, just in the Empire. That doesn't mean you couldn't turn it into quite the 'spy' network. Rewarding important information with sex/dates.

[] Write in

You would, however, not go unnoticed in your endeavors. With the swath of nearly fainting girls the two of you were cutting through the Stansfield supporters, it was only a matter of time.

But, of course, besides that pompous windbag Dean, you have caught the eye of the ever hateful harpy, Victoria Dallon. You indicate to Sabah who is watching you as subtly as you can, which almost too subtle for Sabah to catch.

"Never had superhero before," she whispers to you with a grin. You nod in response.

You adopt a wide smile and guide Sabah over to one of Brockton Bay's most noticeable heroes and her family, plus Dean. There was some confusion on her face, she wanted to know who you were, and you were happy to keep it that way. The younger generation of New Wave didn't need to know who the prince in front of them is.

The smile seems to work on Glory Girl and even the usually more stoic Amy Dallon. It's also enough to endear you to Eric Pelham who greets you with an easy smile of his own and an enthusiastic handshake.

"Eric Pelham, also known as Shielder, can't say I've seen you around before."

"Dean Stansfield," the pompous windbag says with a obviously forced smile. He wants to find out who you are and why you didn't cause e̡̘̫̯͍̘̲m̢͕̻͚̼͉o̯̥͍̰̻̕ͅt͍̟̰̼̰̀͢ḭ̧̦͍̟̯̩o̭̳͜͜n̢͓̖̘͔͚̥̮̟̭-̥͇̠̰͈͖b̶͠҉̲̩͚̳̫̜͙̣a̡̬̱͍̺̠̗̺̱͞͞s͔̹̞̘e͎̤̺̤͜͝d̸̴̼̯͕͉̱͝ͅ ͎̣̜̣͙ş͍͓̼̩̮͖̯͚͓y̵̝̩ͅń̺̙̩̱͚̗͎͠e̶҉̩͕̹̗͢s̷̸̢̬͈̠͉͔̯͈̘̯ţ̢̙͈̰̦̮h̸̳̪̮̜̦e̺̙̰̰͟͡s͕͠í̛͏̳̗̣̦͎͚a̮̺͇̕, "Pleasure to meet you."

You should probably find out what caused your power to trip like that.

When Amy Dallon offers her hand you take it at the wrist making sure to use the cloth of the longs sleeves of her dress to keep your flesh from touching and bow over it.

"Uh, A-amy Dallon! 'm Panacea!" she squeaks out, a blush rapidly darkening her cheeks.

What name do you give them?:
[] Write-in

Sabah doesn't give that harridan, Victoria, a chance to introduce herself, and starts in on the heroine's dress for the night, skillfully dividing the girl from her boyfriend with her (Sabah) body. Dean looks like he's going to interrupt. A small step to change your relative positions, and you begin your assault.

"Dean, Eric, Amy, have you heard about Peter Phelps? Word is he bought the Bay's Natives. I think we're in for a good year, if he doesn't decide to move the team."

Eric chips right in covering a half-bit back whimper of desire from Victoria behind you from Dean's ears.

"Yeah, We might get Gonzalez from San Fran, he's a free agent and he's got family on the East Coast."

"I don't think so," Dean cuts Eric off, "Kazinsky would be a much better fit, and we need a shortstop, Blender just isn't cutting it anymore."

And so it continues for a few moments, the other two men continuing the conversation themselves. Though you do make sure to ask Amy questions that would fuel the surprisingly heated discussion.

The 'ugly,' though she was only in comparison to the rest of her team, foundling of New Wave is considerably shyer than you remember. She wants to get your romantic attention but isn't quite sure how.

"I'll be right back," comes from behind you with a squeal, "Gotta visit the little girls room."

All of you turn and see Victoria Dallon gliding across the floor at just slow enough to not be improper or flying. Sabah turns to you with a victorious glint in her eye, and slides her arm around yours.

"I'll come with!" Amy pipes up and with an apologetic smile, and a momentary dark look at Sabah, is off after her sister. just as your power fills up a little more.

What now?:
[] Turn minor into Major Interaction (continues the conversation, will not refund minor interaction)
-[] Write in to what ends you continue the conversation.

[] Make your excuses, you can come back later. (You will be moving on, and can return later, this does exclude revealing your identity)
-[] Write in next major(4)/minor(5) or minor(5)/minor(5-1=4) interaction

[] Wait until the girls return from the bathroom and reveal your identity (You will be moving on, and can return later)
-[] Write in next major(4)/minor(5) or minor(5)/minor(5-1=4) interaction

[] Write-in

XP Purchases:
[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

XP Gain: 3 xp

Mote gain: +4 motes

Training get: TDP has earned 1 day of social combat training, and that can be banked or used for anything that could fall under 'social combat.' A vote of Bank for XP purchases will also count as banking the training.

=====

Any guesses to what Sabah did?

Also a Tanga is like a thong but has a little more material in the back.

Biigoh · Jul 13, 2015

- - -
The Musician
Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation OMAKE
- - -

The musician plays his instrument with a steady hand, coaxing music from it. One to delight the ears and minds of those who listens.

A virtuoso does not play his instrument. He is the instrument, he made sweet and tender love to the song he plays. He seduces those who listen, showing his love for music to all who would listen. They are moved to tears by the emotion within the music.

Alec Delacour made sensual love to the song that he played on his violin. The name he bore wasn't his by birth, the violin he played wasn't his, but the music that he played, that was his. The emotions in it was his, magnified and given a fullness that he almost never felt.

A simple serious of vibrations of strings, amplified to echo in the hall as the well to do danced and spoke to each other. They were the new nobles and elites of the city, their wealth parlaying into power even if they lacked the nobility and traditions of the nobles and royalty of yesteryear.

The song he played was what some would call classical. He didn't, to him... music was music was music. Genre was but the bindings wielded by those who didn't know this simple facet.

Certainly, the old man hadn't seen the point of learning how to play music, even if he had seen the hows of it and allowed it because it was a useful way of learning new skills. After all, Alec could control people and puppeteer their bodies, and that was all people saw of his power. They never considered that to be able to affect something, one had to be able to sense something else.

And he did.

Everything that those he hijacked felt, he felt.

Everything that they did, he did.

And what is practice but the art of repeating something over and over? So that it was engraved in the muscle memories of one's body?

And so, he learned how to play music.

Learned how to force music from one's instruments, first with the body of a simple musician. Then with his own body.

Learned how to coax the music from within himself. How to love and be loved in return by the music. To allow his faint, muted emotions, to sing, to dance in his music.

To live.

To truly live.

And he flew away from the grasp of his father, because in order to live, one needed to be free. That was something that the old man never really did understand. Or rather he understood, but didn't care.

And so, Alec flew the coop.

He traveled from city to city, his violin paying for his way as a simple busker. As Alec Delacour. Not as Jean-Paul Vasil. Not as the villain Hijack. Just a simple musician whose music spoke more than he could.

And so, he made sweet and tender love to his music, his instrument merely the conduit of his love. And those who heard him could hear that love. Could feel the joy in his song. The name he bore wasn't his by birth, the violin he played wasn't his, but the music that he played, that was his.

And that was enough for now.

- - -
To be continued... maybe
- - -

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 17, 2015

You decide as you head over to most of New Wave's second generation to keep all of the contact information you obtained, it could come in handy later. Perhaps you could start something like a spy network amongst them.

You'll keep in touch with the girls, talk to them every now and again, and if they delivered a juicy piece of gossip they passed on to you, you might reward them with a date. The more consistently you received information, the more likely those dates might turn into something more. You'd have to somehow disseminate that information subtly, and keep them striving amongst themselves to be the one to catch your eye.

Playing them against one another would keep them from interfering with the rather daunting challenge of bedding all of the powered women in the Empire.

Admittedly, you were going to start a collection for the underwear you've been given. Phone numbers were one thing, but how many men can claim to have been given those phone numbers on the woman's undergarments?

=====

"You can call me 'Nemo,'" you offer a particularly wide smile, "I'll let you guess my name, it'll be more fun this way."

It was particularly satisfying to see the muscles on Dean's jaw jump as he fights to keep the smile on his face from slipping.

You dance around them, metaphorically, with words. Keeping Dean from interfering in your courtier's work, and engaging Amy. The Dallon sisters were rather notorious for being very protective of one another.

You didn't really have to work to keep the surprisingly shy and quiet Amy's attention on you, but when Victoria left for the bathroom the adopted Dallon followed leaving you with Eric, Dean, and a very smug looking Sabah.

Revealing your true identity was a bit tempting, but doing such a thing was hardly as subtle as you'd like, and would be rather crass.

Instead, like a maestro conducting an orchestra, you waited patiently and directed the conversation, all three of them playing their parts and speaking when you wanted and spoke what you guided them into saying.

You weren't really using your power for this, you didn't need it at this point, but only a fool wouldn't use every tool in their kit. Still, it was your nature that shined through.

This was what Max Anders did as CEO and owner of MedHall, how he spoke as Kaiser, addressing the new bloods and those who wavered. This was nothing more than pure human skill taken to the extreme, but... in the end, anybody could do this.

It was entertaining to do so while you waited for Amy and the Harpy to return, as leaving before they did so would be incredibly rude.

They did come back after, even if Victoria was walking awkwardly. The blonde had a slightly sheepish look on her face as they approached, Amy wore one of slight determination to counter it.

She wants to ask you out. Amy Dallon wants to ask you out. Previously, you had dreamed of such a thing. Even though you were courting Gwen, Amy Dallon had always stood out in ways that looks never did. That she would ask you out had been something you had wished for on a birthday cake, once upon a time.

You would avoid the issue for the moment, perhaps when you came back you would allow her the chance.

Something white flittered on the corner of your vision. Sabah is radiating smug satisfaction, and Victoria is looking everywhere but your compatriot.

"The sisters return, good," your smile grows a tad, "I didn't want to leave without saying 'farewell.'"

"You're leaving?" Amy's face pulls down in a frown.

"For the moment. Think of it this way, you'll have the chance to workout who I am. We'll be back, for sure."

Amy looks like she's about to protest again, but Dean moving to his girlfriend cuts her off, as does Sabah's parting shot.

"Call me sometime, Victoria.~ We can do a private fitting."

You have never seen Glory Girl turn so red and not be angry.

Before the two of you commit to any new activity you stop at the refreshments table and pick up some drinks, juice for you and champagne for her. Surprisingly, Sabah pounds the first one, before grabbing a second to sip.

"I can't believe I did all that!" she exclaims with a giggle, "I'm not like this usually."

"And how are you normally?" you say with a small frown.

"Quiet, I like to be left alone for the most part, and just be me. I've never really been much of a social butterfly, but I made a friend today and maybe a few dates!"

"That's good, right?"

She nods.

"Yeah, but... I'm not really looking for a fling," she bites her lower lip, "I'm more of a relationship person."

"Nothing about being a relationship person precludes you from going on dates. Dates are how one finds relationships, right?"

You think. You don't really have a lot of experience.

Honestly, Sabah looks adorable when she's biting her lip, but she's starting to ruin her make-up.

"You're messing up your lipstick, Sabah."

There is some tension in the semi-quiet as she checks her lipstick and touches it up. Her compact closes with a snap, and she gives you big doe eyes.

She wants to tell you something, but is unsure of what she wants to tell you, or even if she really wants to tell you.

"You know, Theo... nevermind. Back to the masses?" Sabah says as she offers a small smile.

"Back to courting the mob we go," you say as you offer your arm.

You drifted about, much more languidly this time, making small talk. The both of you quickly get back into the rhythm and start having fun as you charmed and seduced your various contemporaries. When you returned to school after the holidays, you'd be looked upon favorably. At least, by those who went to Arcadia. The ones who didn't frequently left calling cards for later contact.

You met more than one of Sabah's peers and you could tell she would be looked upon well when she returned to her institution of learning.

As you drifted about, you focused more on your comrade than the conversations at hand. You could tell Sabah was enjoying herself, and, most surprisingly, despite her claim of pure homosexuality, she liked you. The older girl found you charming and pleasant to be around. Someone she would have called a friend, were you in her age group or went to college with her.
It was quite possible, you think, that the two of you could have been more than friends, a lesbian and her beard with benefits. Or maybe even an actual relationship, if you had been in her age group before all of this.

Well, if you hadn't been a tubby ball of man-lard.

Still, you chitchat over overpriced hors d'oeuvres and champagne, between schmoozing the various ladies and winning the admiration of the men. And between the two of you, you were quickly building a sizable collection of contact information (and underwear. Neil Patrick Elton of Elton General Contracting had to be let down gently when he tried to give you his silk boxers. Funny music and theatre man that he was he played it off as a joke, and made sure no hard feelings remained. Only hot steamy ones. Winky face.)

Eventually, Sabah became bored with the small talk. She indicated the Wards and the group of children and teens around them.

"Let's go talk to them, and unwind a bit. Just remember, Vista is really young. It's one thing to hit on Panacea and Glory Girl... It'd be really sketchy," the look you receive could probably hurt lesser beings, "And I would have to re-evaluate my opinion of you."

You chuckle.

"I happen to be a member of the unofficial Vista fanclub, Best Little Sister Vista Fanclub."

Sabah snorts. You frown in response. The club was working real hard on getting recognized as official. You plow on, letting it slide for now. She could be introduced to the club at a later date.

"However, Shadow Stalker looks like she might be someone easier for the both of us to hit on, you more than I. Look at the redhead she's talking to. Look at the way she smiles at Stalker, they know each other."

Sabah's lips pull to one side in a considering look.

"Maybe but I don't think they know each other, if you know what I mean."

In the Biblical sense. You nod.

Now that everything is settled the two of you drift over that way.

Plan:
[X] Wards Interaction (Locked)
-[] Major/Minor
--[] Write in

XP Gain: 3xp

Mote gain: 1 (I have decided to stop writing in more gains when it isn't down to the wire)

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 22, 2015

The various affluent guests step aside as you escort Sabah across the floor. The men in well-fitted suits grin and offer friendly nods at your passing, swept up in your confident noble yet amiable charisma, the beautiful women at the sides of those men look after you with heated eyes. The woman you are escorting, Sabah, does her best to match your confidence, loosely holding on to your arm, her head held high. Her eyes linger tellingly on the striking young redhead speaking to Shadow Stalker, and you can't help but admire the girl's beauty too.

You chide yourself internally. You've been thinking with your loins frequently tonight. The silk evidence burning a hole in your pocket, this time, however, you push that desire down. You have another interest in the group you are approaching. Still, you are a gentleman, and you resolve to give Sabah the opening she needs to begin wooing the redhead.

Your favourite Ward is hands-down Vista, so while Sabah will attempt to feel out Shadow Stalker's (and her friend's) sexuality and openness, you want to have a chance to make friends with Vista.

It would also be the world's biggest feather in your cap if you managed to recruit the Shaker 9 for the Empire. Soon to be YOUR Empire.

That you won't mention at all.

Not that you would need to, Vista has many accolades across her career, though the most violent was her fight with Hookwolf. Plus, she is as badass as she is cute. Though, you get the feeling that complimenting her looks won't get you as far as talking about her skills and achievements.

You open for Sabah, with a winning smile that causes a blush to bloom on the redhead's face and a generic but sufficient introduction. As it turns out the redhead is a burgeoning model, she certainly has the looks, and the two quickly begin discussing fashion, much to Shadow Stalker's obvious displeasure.

Still, your eyes drift to the side and focus on the young woman clad in teal and white, the one you are eager to speak with, the heroic Vista. Not only is she your favourite Ward, she's the city's. At your first glance, she appears to be enduring the attention of a small group of young teens with good humor. However, she wants to be somewhere else, and you can tell. She is definitely not enjoying herself as much as it seems.

That isn't the only thing that seems off about the girl. A frown flits across your face, something about Vista doesn't look quite right.

You use quick and discreet glances, you don't want to come off as a pervert, to pick out small details about the longest serving and famous 'little sister' of Brockton Bay's Wards. She holds herself with gravitas. She has a less mature but eerily similar presence that many of the older women in your life have. There is discipline and weight there, and it most certainly isn't faked.

Your glances become a bit more frequent, but no less discreet as you pick out other pieces to the puzzle.

You pull heavily on the little bits of knowledge Sabah's sketchbook offered and from personal observation. It takes a moment, but you realize that the Ward's costume and make-up has been designed and tailored to make her look younger, smaller, and trying to be older. It emphasizes and rounds her soft face; draws notice to her slender figure, and petite frame. It shaves years off your initial estimate of her age in a rather bizarre reversal of what you have come to expect from young women.

And, though it is rather cleverly done, the 'fake' padding on her chest is not as fake as it appears.

If you had to guess, you would say Vista was within a year of your age. Either right on the puberty track or a late bloomer.

"I know I'm pretty," Vista grabs your attention with a jibe and a bright white smile, "And intimidating, but you don't have to act like I'm gonna bite."

You apparently weren't as discreet as you had hoped.

She wants to talk to you a lot more than the people she's currently interacting with, because she thinks you're handsome.

"My apologies, Miss Vista. I'm a fan, but didn't want to come across too hard and have it be misinterpreted as..."

You make a motion with your hand and give her a sheepish smile. She gives you a knowing nod. You'd wager you aren't the first person who didn't approach her all that openly in an attempt to not across as a pedophile.

You stick out a hand, and give your best smile.

"I'm Theo."

If you thought the blush the redhead was sporting after your smile, its nothing compared to Vista's. The girl's legs give a visible weak wiggle before she pulls herself together, surreptitiously takes a deep breath and slips her much smaller hand into yours and gives you one of the firmest grips you've ever received, with a wide, youthful smile. The PR people must coach her in making the youngest looking smile possible.

"M- Vista," she returns the courtesy of a name with a visibly wince at almost revealing her name.

And frankly you are glad you don't have to deal with the pain in the ass signing NDAs at the PRT HQ would be.

"Like I said earlier, a fan. A big fan, to be honest. Your exploits against the villainous and criminal elements of Brockton Bay give me hope."

Every smile you give her is genuine as you discuss her various achievements in Brockton Bay, doing your best to avoid her bigger ones with the Empire, but certainly mentioning some of her smaller ones.

It wouldn't do for her to gain the same opinion of you, inadvertantly, that Glory Girl has. And you very much want her to be your friend. It is going swimmingly, and soon you have Vista and her previous hanger-ons laughing and chortling at your jokes. Kid Win and Aegis are holding their own courts but you can see them watching you out of the corner of your eyes. They want to make sure Vista is safe.

The conversation is cut short when you hear a thud followed by a harsh voice and the sound of clothed flesh hitting the tiled floor.

"Back the fuck up! She's straight!"

You whirl and see Sabah on her butt, clutching her chest, and Shadow Stalker standing menacingly over her. The redhead behind Stalker has a hurt and surprised look on her face before it morphs into one of feigned disgust.

"You were hitting on me? Ugh. I can't believe I let you touch me!"

To say you are rather upset is probably understating it. You were a prince, and she, your courtier, was under your protection. This could not stand.

What do? Remember Vista is watching and will likely participate, as will Kid Win and Aegis. But you can score points with all of them. Even Stalker.
[] Write in

=====

For this write in, include things like Theo's stance on this, and charm usage. Is he blantly upset and aggressive about it? Is he passive aggressive snooty to the max that leaves no wondering about his intentions? Does he leave it to the rest of the Wards? Does he spend 7 personal motes to become the scariest motherfucker (metaphorically as opposed to literally cloaked in the grim shadows of Death.) on the block and cut Shadow Stalker to the fucking quick? Or does he just use the 2nd excellency? What does he suss out with Exquisite Etiquette Style? Does he burn mores on Scathing Cynic attitude?

=====

Scoping out Vista's costume went really well, but you barely made her your friendly acquaintance.

XP Gain: 2xp

XP Purchases:
[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

Skitzyfrenic · Jul 25, 2015

Okay, enough doing other stuff for me for a few minutes.

Omake time! Short, probably cracky, but whatevers. Enjoy!

Lunar Waifu Vista:

Missy Biron stared at the very handsome and heavily pregnant boy a few years younger than her.

"You'll give me even better super powers, and all I have to do is keep doing what I'm doing?"

"Yes! Its not like this is complicated!" the boy said, visibly frustrated.

Never before had someone asked Luna to wait and clarify the Exaltation, its powers, and why they were receiving it.

"And," Missy plowed on, "I'm getting them because I've been fighting Nazis, despite being so small and," Missy snickered, "'underpowered.'"

Luna nodded, foot tapping in impatience.

"Finally, once I've learned enough about my powers, I can turn into an Alicorn?"

Missy looked so excited about it. Luna still had no idea what an 'alicorn' was.

"Whatever an Alicorn is, sure."

That was the deal clincher and Missy gave a firm nod.

"Fucking sign me up! Princess Vista incoming pega-sisters!"

Sometime later:

"Come baaaaaaack!~"

The Dark Prince hadn't feared for his life since he came to acknowledge the Truth, that Oblivion was the Doom of All Things. But he was running, flipping, ducking, diving, and weaving for his very life at this moment.

"I just want to cuddle!~"

He shuddered as the saccharine voice rang out behind him. The voice emanating from his once favorite Ward. Now, she was scarier than all of the Endbringers combined.

"You're my mate! Sure you're supposed to be all sunny like Princess Celestia, but I can dig the EDGE. It gives you this Edward Cullen mystique."

Her reading material sucked. He was obviously more like a Barrow-Wight from Lord of the Rings. Except way more powerful. He dropped into an alleyway, and held his breath as she passed overhead. A minute passed, and he let out the breath he was holding, and covered his face.

About two months ago, Vista changed. She was glowing silver like the moon, like he 'glowed' like the moon's shadow. And she suddenly was a Trump on top of her Shaker 9 space warping powers. Most of all she was incredibly, way-over-the-top, infatuated with him. To the point of saying wickedly lurid things to him during combat or even in interviews. The various Vista boards and threads exploded in rage, and in tears over BLSVista growing up. Some wanted to hunt down the Dark Prince and kill him over daring to seduce their little darling; others wanted to find him and 'make him see the light,' flipping him to hero-dom, and making sure he was a good fit for Vista; others still began posting smut smut smutty capefictions about the two of them, shattering the once fairly unified Vista fan following.

All he wanted to do was keep his man card. Openly 'Romeo and Juliet' dating Vista would ruin his man card.

"There you are, honey-bunches!"

His eyes snapped open in terror and stomach dropping fear. She was here, the silver-teal beast of DOOM!

"Princess Vista has arrived to collect her future husband," the cheerful voice became harder than diamond, "Get on, it's date night."

Resigned, the Dark Prince trudged over, defeated. And then the most wondrous sound to ever exist cut through the night air.

Endbringer sirens.

"TRUCE! ENDBRINGER TRUCE! OH, THANK OBLIVION!"

If the Dark Prince was running fast before, he was a bullet, straight to the Protectorate Rig, skipping right over the water in his joy.

"Drat."

=====

Lunar Waifu Taylor:

"Stop."

The Dark Prince actually whimpered. He turned to view the most hateful yet loving woman to ever exist.

"If you are going to do something, you will do it right."

She handed him a Nazi armband to put over his armor. Taylor's impatience and hatred of Nazis was palpable as the Dark Prince inspected the armband for traps. Once satisfied, he placed it over his armor. His (ONE AND FUCKING ONLY GIRLFRIEND IF HE WANTS TO KEEP HIS DICK INTACT) girlfriend brightened immensely and kissed him on the cheek. He sagged with relief, at least she didn't threaten him with castration again.

"Be back by ten, I'll have a late dinner ready. And the spiked paddle."

The Dark Prince choked.

"Why? What did I do this time?"

"The same thing as last time! You're a Nazi!" she yelled at him.

"If it's such a problem, why are you my girlfriend?" he shouted back.

Oh no. Oooooh no.

"Nononononono, I'm so sorry, my love. Please forgive me, I couldn't live without your aid! I'll buy another ferry for the city," he backtracked, and apologized.

"Spiked paddle," she ground out, "And twenty lashes with the cat-o-nine-tails."

Fuck.

"You're sweet, though, donating another ferry to the Bay. You can sleep in my bed tonight," she said with smirk. Another kiss was laid on his cheek, and the tall, leggy girl walked back into the flat with a sensual swaying in her steps.

Oblivion, if she didn't fuck like a wild cat...

=====

Lunar Waifu Sophia:

"KILL! MAIM! BURN! KILL! MAIM! BURN!"

You shot a withering look at your troops as your 'negro love slave' (as she was frequently spoken as, when they thought she couldn't hear (she did and pranked them later, with live and painful traps)) began to butcher the ABB goons with glee and howls of rage.

"Who, in the flying FUCK," spittle flew from your lips, "introduced my already murderous and bloodthirsty girlfriend to FUCKING KHORNE?!"

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

"Fuck it," you mutter into the hand you raised to cover your faceplate, "I'm just going to kill you all. And then fuck my extra murderous and bloodthirsty girlfriend on a pile of yours and the ABBs dead bodies."

=====

Skitzyfrenic · Aug 1, 2015

Sabah. Is. On. The. Ground.

The world seems to slow for a moment as all sorts of thoughts and plans race through your mind. You settle on one.

You are a Prince. The Dark Prince. Let none dispute this.

It is by your words those lesser than you are plucked from the mud of namelessness and lifted to places of high honor.

It is by your words those lesser than you are cast into absolute darkness, deemed unfit for even life in the mud.

You are a Lord of Lords. You bearing and behavior states this simple fact to the world's very weave. It was accepted by all you saw your deeds and actions, by all who heard your words.

You power, cold as death, flows through you, allowing your already keen eyes to pluck more from the scene. You see the hero worship of the redhead for Shadow Stalker, the dislike the other Wards held for the former vigilante. Of how the 'hero' saw the redhead as hers. You saw and knew all of it.

"My apologies," you give Vista a small smile as you turn fully to your destination, "I fear we must postpone our talk."

With that properly taken care of, you saunter (with purpose and with power flowing) imperiously past the other Wards, who only just beginning to react. Past the young socialites gathered, all whose looks are judging you for how you are handling this.

Just as Sabah begins to sputter out her denial, you impose yourself between her and Shadow Stalker, displacing the latter. Offering a warm smile, you pull your courtier, your Sabah, to her feet. There is blatant relief in her eyes, as well as copious amounts of fear.

Not at you, but at the situation.

You raged, your anger burned hot and fierce. You push it down, deep into your heart to cool.

The smile you aim at Shadow Stalker leaves no doubt of what you think of her and her actions and completely dismisses the redhead. Your dismissal was total, absolute. As attractive as she was, she had proven with words her worthlessness, how she was a lackey, and thus not worth your attention anymore than a misbehaving lapdog. More than that, you made it clear to everyone else she was not worth their time either.

Maybe, just maybe, if she had apologized or attempted to smooth things over, rather than back Shadow Stalker, she wouldn't suddenly be a social outcast in the group she aspired to. First impressions mattered, and she was now the pretty, shallow girl who best served as a silent, living accessory.

The way someone stood, the way they spoke, these things could say just as much as any amount of words. You were a Prince, and she... she was less than you.

"While I admire your," you take a breath and pretend to look for a fitting word, "zeal in desiring to protect the virtue of the girl my companion was speaking to, I do not believe it was necessary to assault her, given the misunderstanding you are operating under."

And it was true, your words had a visible effect in the crowd, even Vista who had appeared at your side a moment after you had begun speaking. Those words changed their perceptions and attitudes about the situation. Certainly, Sabah hadn't been at fault, Shadow Stalker had simply seen something, misinterpreted it and over-reacted. With violence. Against a harmless civilian.

After all -

"Not when my dear Sabah here is a fashion designer, and the girl did mention she was a model for some," again you pause for effect, "minor fashion magazines and catalogs of assorted small clothiers."

You kept your eyes on Shadow Stalker and gesticulate during all of this, certainly not backing down in the face of your lesser's defiant stare. She was a cape, but she was in a social position, one where she couldn't leverage her power, where she couldn't fight. Where she was nothing more than prey being run down by a noble hunter . This was the truth, obvious and clear-cut.

You were a prince.

More than that, you the alpha male present, and your very essence sang that truth to the world. That you were a charming prince who treated fairly with those who did likewise. To those who struggled against you, you were the most terrible of spectres, the Abyssal Dark Prince who beguiled and belittled them with words wielded like a rapier.

"I can certainly understand and sympathize that you are most used to a more... agressive environment, however, I believe that you owe my companion an apology."

You kept your eyes locked onto the Ward and tilted you head slightly. It was distantly possible that she could snap, that she would attack you, but you were luckily ready for that. You had taken an hors d'oeuvres with you, and kept the small toothpick sword. It would be something, at least.

But you suspected that she would take an out if given.

"And that would be that, yes?"

Shadow Stalker's chest began to move before she was cut off.

"Shadow Stalker," came Vista's very hard voice, laced with disapproval.

There was a titter of nervous laughter from one of the... oh, it was the one you dismissed.

"Fine," the dark Ward bit out, "Sorry, I over-reacted."

She didn't sound very sorry and all present knew that.

Finally, much too late, the soon-to-be-leader of the Wards Aegis arrived with Kid Win in tow.

"Stalker, with me. Miss Sabah, was it? I'm terribly sorry."

You watch them leave for only a fraction of a second before turning to Sabah. There are unshed tears in her eyes.

"Will you be alright?"

She nods.

"Just," she swallows thickly, "just gonna need a sec."

"Excuse me," comes an adult male voice, "I need to ask you a few questions."

You take in a breath, and turn ready to completely explode on the cretin who would interrupt you comforting your Sabah. The wind in your sails is taken out abruptly as you see its Velocity. You still want to lay into him, but a member of the Protectorate is far different game than a Ward. He's also looking at you and not Sabah.

"Vista, can you?" he makes a vague gesture.

You look back at Sabah, with a questioning glance. You are more than willing to tell them to stick it where the sun doesn't shine right now. But she's already in the tender care of Vista, who is leading her away. Though the older girl does spare you a look and a smile.

She will be alright.

"Don't worry about you friend," Velocity's hand comes down on your shoulder in a very unappreciated gesture, "Vista is the second best Ward to have comforting someone. Only Gallant is better at it."

You turn to Velocity, subtly knocking his hand off your shoulder.

"I believe you had questions," you say gesturing off to a slightly more secluded area.

You spend the next ten minutes answering the same questions, if differently worded, over and over again. You patience is wearing thin, and you are actively contemplating disemboweling the hero, when Max shows up and berates the man for questioning you without him present.

"-If you need anything else you can contact our lawyers! Questioning a minor without legal consult or a parent present over anything! How dare-"

The horribly offended rant is hissed quietly as to not draw attention to it, but you father gets his message across. 'Leave him the fuck alone, he just cleaned up YOUR mess.'

Then you spend the next three minutes answering your father's questions. Thankfully, he believes you the first time. One question is particularly pertinent.

"She's a lesbian?" Max asks with a frown.

"Not as much as she thinks she is," you say and subtly gesture to your forehead, "but far, far more inclined to enjoy the company of women than men."

"Tell her that she could keep that quiet within earshot of certain people. Or she should find a 'beard' she is comfortable with being associated with," he indicates you with a small gesture, "if she intends to frequent our circles. Nessa and Jessica are the most likely to be understanding of her tendencies, given their own, but Aaron, Ophelia, several others, and the entry level positions would.. punish her."

Seeing as you've walked in on Jessica and Nessa enjoying each other, you can understand why they'd be the most understanding. Of course, they were identical twins and considered it masturbation. Still, you had been in the end phase 'girls are icky' stage of your life, and purged the actual memory from your brain.

Damn your younger self!

You nod.

"I'll make sure she knows."

And the two of you part, back to your own contemporary social circles. You go looking for Sabah and Vista, but are quickly intercepted by a fast moving Amy Dallon.

"You're Theo Anders!" she says out of breath and with a smile.

"You're Amy Dallon," you counter dryly and with a small smile that sends her blushing, "Have you seen Sabah?"

Something dark flits across her face, before she resumes smiling.

"Um, I think I saw her go to the bathroom after Vista finished talking with her," the world-renowned healer looks down for a moment then back up, "Could I, um, talk to you for a moment? In private?"

What Do?:
[] Go with Amy
[] Go to the are near the bathrooms to wait for Sabah
- [] Amy can come with
- [] Amy can't come with
[] Sabah said she would be alright. She can come find you when she's ready. Select a new group to target.
- [] Write in
-- [] Amy can come with
-- [] Amy can't come with
[] Write in

Social Targets - A repeat of Wards will be directed at Vista. A repeat of the younger generation of New Wave is unavailable, as they've scattered to the winds(Dean is with his parents, as is Eric(with his). Amy is right in front of you, and Vicky is somewhere). Armsmaster should be available the snip after the next one. General socialization is locked in at minor interactions, no more can you go forth and get panties for an extended period of time.

=====

You have 3 major interactions left and 4 minor. Anything with Amy will eat up at least a minor depending on sub-votes and stunts.

Vista got in a good roll(which is why she got to speak up and shut down Stalker from responding any way other than apologizing), and TDP fucking nailed it(10 successes after auto suxxes). Aegis rolled like shit though, which is why he was so late to the party.

Exquisite Etiquette Style isn't running right now.

(Totally meta knowledge right now, but Sabah managed to score you an autograph. Sabah has successfully gained Theo Anders (Super Awesome (and Sexy??) Guy Friend))

XP Gain: 4 xp

Mote gain: -6 motes

XP Purchases:
[] Purchase
- [] Write in
[] Bank

You have a chance to more accurately define what Sabah means to you as an intimacy.

Sabah (???):
[] Write in
[] No, don't like her that much

Skitzyfrenic · Aug 3, 2015

Something omake-y something omake-y... Maybe something a bit cracky...

The Unconquered Sun knew something was up. Being as perfect and excellent as he was, he knew when Luna was smug, but not smug.

All that smug made him want to bend hir over and fuck the smug out of her.

Unfortunately for the Unconquered Sun, the Emerald Mother wielded this nasty wooden spoon.

He had to know.

"Luna..."

"Sun..."

"Why are you so smug?"

"I now know what the fuck an alicorn is! Eat that you golden asshole! And -my- alicorn is way better than yours!"

And that was how the UCS was introduced to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and stopped playing the Games of Divinity.

Creation suffered even worse than before. For even the Fates had been turned into Pegasisters by the Brony the UCS.

*Skitzy is smacked by a golden wing*

I mean, the Alicorn Prince The Unconquered Stallion: Element of Magic and the five destined Element bearers the Fillies of Fate.

Meanwhile on Earth Bet

"Well, that was easier than I expected," the Dark Prince said as he turned to look at his circle mate, the Queen of Carrion.

"Surely our valiant victory, violently fought, was fortuitously fraught with fright to feed upon."

Behind them lay a shattered, broken, and dying Simurgh. In front of them stood the gaping Triumvirate.

"Princess Vista has arrived to fu- I mean celebrate with her future husband!"

A teal-white pega-corn landed next to the Queen of Carrion. Looking for the suddenly missing Dark Prince.

"Hesitant husbands have absconded e're arrival of adolescent affections."

The winged unicorn and the tall svelte woman glared at one another.

Brockton Bay's reception of the Simurgh ended in under ten minutes with 12 death and 43 casualties. The subsequent battle between two powerful female parahumans resulted in 400 deaths and over one thousand casualties.

Skitzyfrenic · Aug 4, 2015

You weren't actually that keen to not be in a place where Sabah couldn't easily find you.

"There's a slightly secluded alcove near the restrooms, accompany me?"

You offered your arm to the healer and she took it with a smile. It took a minute or so to arrive at your intended destination, an alcove just within sight but without earshot of the restroom doors.

You turn to her and you open your mouth-

"Will you go out with me?"

-and are interrupted by a heavily blushing Amy Dallon asking you out and largely derailing the plans you had to seduce her. By her already being interested. Her face is slightly aimed down, but she's looking up at you through her short locks of curly sandy-brown hair.

It's surprising enough your mouth is still open. It clicks shut just in time for her to plow on.

"I mean, I know you're here with someone but the rumors going around, and how she acted with Vicky, I'm pretty sure she's a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But if you wanted to go out sometime, I'd really like that."

She really wants to date you. Really wants to be your girlfriend. Really wants to have someone other than her sister to be interested in. Which is incredibly surprising and could be very useful information in the future.

You... well, you don't really have a problem with it. Going out with her at least. That was a good chunk of your previous plan. Going out with her (and few other girls) and keeping her interested.

"I would love to have the chance to take you out sometime, Amy," you say giving her a smile.

The smile you receive in return was radiant, and made her look considerably more attractive, even as she sagged with relief.

"Great! Would next Friday work? We can make a whole night of it?"

"I do believe I'm free for most of the evening, but I had planned on seeing the New Year arrive with my baby sister. It's her first."

"Oh!" she fumbles around for a proper response, "I could, um, come along, if that was okay? And I'll even make sure she's doing all right!"

That was sketchy in and of itself. Kayden would probably be ecstatic if if was going to be just you, Amy, Aster, and her. But Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt were invited.

"I'll have to ask Aster's mother, Kayden. I know she's planning to invite other guests, and to be honest," you lean in, and look around like you're sharing a great secret, "the Schmidt's, as nice as they are, are a bit... kooky."

Amy giggles.

"Like the Addams Family?"

"More like Stepford wife and husband, very 1950s sitcom in how they act," you correct with a bit of a grimace, as you lean back into normal distancing.

She winces as some of the implications set in.

"Well, its fine if I can't go, but be sure to ask, please?"

She wants to be away from Carol and the hospital that night.

"Absolutely," you say with sincerity.

Now, you have a chance to complete the rest of your original plan.

It wouldn't be hard, world renowned healer or not, Amy Dallon was easily the most stressed out person you've ever met.
To completely win her, seduce her away from New Wave, from the Harpy, would not only be a huge feather in your cap against the Harpy, your father would approve. Hell, the entire Empire would approve of having on of the most powerful healers in the world on their side.

Othala would be glad for the lessening of her off-work workload.

You continued to speak with her, drawing out her frustrations with her family, offering kind words, and allowing her to vent.

Essence flowed and words danced, and carefully like a scalpel, you cut. The wounds she exposed you made worse and yet you offered respite. Her tired and stressed mind couldn't resist the overtures when placed against your social might and mien. You spoke of how and why New Wave took advantage of having arguably the world's most powerful healer's good nature. Of how obvious it was that Brandish didn't see her as a daughter, of the way Victoria took advantage of her healing powers.

Something you had been delighted to find out was true to some small extent. Victoria had called upon Amy to heal the occasional thug's sprained, bruised, or broken arm or ribs. You could almost feel that there was more, but ignored it for the task at hand.

You spoke of how heavy the expectations must be, and tendered a reprieve. Wasn't it so much better now? You and she were going to date, and you held no such expectations of her. She only had to be herself.

Her exhausted mind and your essence wove together, and you showed her that you were her ideal Prince Charming in every way. You could see how much she wanted you, needed you, and now how she adored you, even loved you.

You reached out a hand and cupped her cheek with a smile, she blushed heavily at the implications of intimacy, and responded with a slight rubbing of her cheek against the palm of your hand.

Her lips curved into an impish smile right before she turned her face enough to catch your thumb in her mouth and give it her best attempt at sensually suckling it. You kept your cool, but your smile turned sly, as you slowly removed your hand. Your thumb left her mouth with a soft pop, and her smile turned downright devious.

"Why, Amy, I certainly have something to look forward to, don't I?"

Her blush had crept down to the top of her chest at this point. She nodded, her smile still devious.

"If only I had a sign of your favor to help keep me warm while I wait to join you New Year's Eve."

She bit her lip and you swore you could see her blush growing. Amy looked around and made sure no one was watching.

"Switch places with me? And keep a look out."

You were in the more shadowed part of the alcove, so as to observe the restroom entrances, Amy had her back to them. You acquiesced. Your eyebrows rose appropriately when she began to hike up her dress. Really, it was predictable at this point.

But that didn't make the sight of her pale, smooth legs or the smell of her sex that suddenly billowed out, any less exciting. You were fifteen. You expanded your ears, but kept your eyes glued to Amy, and let them obviously flick between the modest cleavage her dress was showing, to her naked thighs.

She wanted to have you keep her eyes on her, but also didn't want to get caught giving you her panties. And so, too soon her dress was hanging correctly again, but not before she gave her hips a little sensual twist and pulled her thong off in one smooth motion.

She stepped close and pressed her still wet (not damp or soggy but wet) underwear into your hand.

"You have a lot to look forward to Mr. Anders, if you play your cards right."

Despite the absolute confidence on her face, she desperately wanted to rush into the bathroom and freak out, or fuck wildly right there in the alcove. You needed to keep her here.

"It occurs to me, Ms. Dallon, that I don't have a way to contact you dire-"

Amy plucked her panties back from your hand and reached into her small handbag to pull out a permanent marker. She swiftly wrote something on the fabric and stuffed it into your jacket's inner pocket with a pat.

If you thought she wanted to go have her meltdown (or hike her dress back up) before, Amy's face was flickering from her confident smile (that you had seen so many times on Victoria's face, it appeared she was channeling her sister) into one of embarrassed excitement.

"There you are," she says with a saucy wink.

Before you continue plying your charms, Amy spies something past you and squeaks in surprise.

"Vicky? I thought you were with Dean!"

You turn swiftly, and take a step back to place yourself next to Amy. You see a smug Sabah, Vista blushing beet red with a thousand yard stare, and a very satisfied looking Victoria Dallon. Her satisfied look turns into a scowl upon mention of her boyfriend.

"We broke up."

Her ex-boyfriend. Again. Then the Harpy's face lights up with delight.

"Ames, did you-"

"Yes!" the healer squeaks out.

Sabah crosses the distance lazily and takes your arm on the opposite side of Amy, who moves to her sister, and the two begin conversing in hushed tones. Sabah, however, is not just holding your arm. She's using it to support herself from the way she's shaking. But the lazy thumb stroking the inside of your bicep assures you that she's alright.

You walk up to the young Ward who is staring off into space.

"Vista?"

She snaps out of it.

"Yes? Oh, Theo! How can I help you?"

"Many thanks for aiding us in a time of need," you say with serious look.

"It was nothing," she tries to wave it off.

"It most certainly was," Sabah cuts in, a slight warble near the end, "Theo couldn't have followed me into the girl's room. Or offered such good advice."

Vista seems reluctant to accept the thanks, but at your nod, she accepts gracefully. At her bright smile, you give one of your own with a tilt of the proverbial hat. A simple acknowledgment between equals. You were glad for her help and you owed her a favor in the future.

In the world of the fabulously rich (yourself), and the powerful parahuman capes (Vista), favours were of incredible value and were frequently the thing bartered, instead of plebeian cash.

Vista moved off with a purpose after short goodbyes. Likely to report the testimony she got from Sabah.

"Theodore Anders."

A grimace flits across your face. The Harpy knew who you were. An inevitability, you still had hoped to last a little while longer before she found out. You turn and offer the now floating blonde a smile.

"Yes, Ms. Dallon?" you say as a wave of fear washes over you. You clamp down on the response and suddenly the weight of her presence is gone. Sabah shudders and only you hear the moan that's bit back.

"You treat my sister right, or son of MedHall or not, I'm coming for you."

Her face is thunderous, and you can feel the promise in the words. Something tugs deep inside of you again, you can sense the deal being sealed if you but ask.

"But of course, Ms. Dallon. My intentions are pure."

Victoria gives you a sharp nod and bustles Amy away. Likely for more gossip. Panacea does shoot you one last look of longing, along with mouthing 'call me.'

You give an amused snort, smile, and nod.

You cast your eyes back out onto the floor, and you happen to spy Armsmaster just making his way back into the party.

He'll be there for at least another fifteen minutes.

You turn to Sabah.

"You looked pretty cozy with Panacea," she says with a lazy smile, her shaking has abated somewhat.

"You look like you had a good time in that bathroom," you counter with a smile of your own.

What Do?:
[X] (Locked, will not burn an interaction slot) Speak with Sabah about what's happened since you've been separated.
- [] Write in (You can be as truthful as you wish or omit as much as you wish. Do not include a sub-vote if you are okay with simply being frank with Sabah)

[] Armsmaster is only available to talk to for a short time, better go get some words in and make good with the local Protectorate leader.

[] New Wave 1st Ed(plus Crystal and Eric), minus the family they had been speaking with earlier. They seem to have left with the insignificant girl.

[] Deputy Director Renick, Dauntless (THE Hometown Hero) and Mr. Calvert have converged together.

[] The Christners are holding court, the ones participating are your Family and the Stansfields

[] Return to the Wards

XP Gain: 4 xp

XP Purchase:
[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

Mote Net Gain: -1m

Spent 1 wp to resist UMI. (After some discussion decided to call Vicky's aura UMI over shaping. Repeated or wickedly prolonged exposure will cause long term UMI effects) Gain 2 resonance because we acknowledged 'Theodore' and burned a wp to resist Vicky's aura.

=====

Amy actually won the 'join debate' roll I used to see if she would be able to cut off TDP. Out of five dice she got 6 successes to TDPs 4 successes off of 6 dice. But once she asked you out, you regained momentum (she didn't really have anything else).

Getting a positive intimacy with Amy was way more successful than souring her view of New Wave, but her view is definitely considerably worse than it was before.

After that, TDP was on fire, getting 6+ successes.

Just a reminder Sabah got 8 successes when flirting with Vicky earlier in the quest.

=====

Skitzyfrenic · Aug 8, 2015

The two of you stared out onto the floor, Sabah's thumb still rubbing lazy circles on the inside of your bicep.

Eventually though she answers your statement.

"Mmm-yeah. I did."

The two of you share a smile. It was truly a delectable scene. Dean was a cuckold, rather almost a cuckold. The Harpy did say that they had split up, before going off to find Sabah. In the bathroom.

The picture their exit painted left terribly, terribly exciting scene. For all her faults, the Harpy was gorgeous, as was Sabah. And then little Vista working herself as she stared in blushing and aroused awe.

You shook the daydream from your head, and twisted the two of you about, as to conceal what you wanted to show Sabah.

You pulled the plain, still wet thong with Panacea's information on it out. Her phone number and her e-mail. She was quite the quick fingered young lady.

"I fear that I wasn't as cozy with Amy as you were with her sister, but I did get a souvenir and a date out of it."

You put it away, right back where Amy had placed it. But your triumphants smirk was matched by Sabah's who reached into her pocket and pulled out a very small piece of white fabric. It takes a moment to recognize what it was. A g-string. Not just a g-string, but an 'open' one. How lewd, how daring of the Harpy.

It looked of as high a quality make as such a thing could be, with gold-coloured threading. It certainly wasn't a piece found at an inexpensive boutique.

"Well now," you tip your proverbial hat, "I guess she wanted something a little... risque to show her boyfriend and you managed to claim it for your own."

You and Sabah turn back around and look at where you can see Amy being tugged along by her sister across the floor. The two of them making a beeline right for their family. There was something delicious and delightful about knowing that two attractive females were heading right for their family, a little less pure than before, wearing nothing at all under their dresses.

But then again... that wasn't an uncommon thing this night. There were a fair number of ladies walking about with no underwear.

"Mmmm-yeah. Date, too," Sabah said as she oozed smugness and kept her lazy gaze locked on the rump of Victoria Dallon. She was enjoying this as much as you were.

You spy the mayor holding court in a more public setting. Your family stands to one side of his, while the Stansfields stand on the other. Obviously engaging in politics. Dean is standing near his family, looking a little put out.

And so the Dark Prince and his Courtier cross the dance floor, slowly, lazily, eventually arriving at their destination, where Jessica makes sure that Sabah is alright.

"I'm fine, I had a glorious recovery," is Sabah's answer, cutting just loud enough across the conversation that Dean hears. The young man stiffens and glances your way.

"Theo Anders," he says blandly, "Not going by 'Nemo' anymore?"

"Not when the game is over and the prize won, Mr. Stansfield," you reply just as blandly. "I'm afraid you've lost a glorious prize."

"And what was such a treasure to be won?"

"Why, me, of course," Sabah cuts in smoothly, "I'm certainly glorious enough for Victoria to favor me. I made sure she was radiant when she left my presence."

A micro expression flits across Dean's face. A sneer. But his bland face returns.

"Victoria is solidly in the heterosexual camp, Miss?"

"What does her sexuality have to do with anything, Mr. Stansfield? My dear Sabah is a fashion designer, well versed in clothing and make-up. Why," you smile slightly, "when I last saw the blonde Ms. Dallon, she was less a few ounces of cloth and glowing even more than usual."

"You might say, she was satisfied for once," Sabah is hot on your tail with a perfect zinger, pausing barely long enough to let it register what she just said before continuing on, "with her outfit."

His face goes through a few emotions rapidly, again returning to the blank face the two of you customarily wore in the others presence. Before you wouldn't have caught half of it.

Powers were awesome.

"I'm afraid I need to use the gentleman's room. If you'll excuse me."

And with that he was gone. A hand descends on to your shoulder. It's your father's he gives you a quick squeeze of approval, never stopping his conversation with the Mayor. Sabah gives your arm a slight hug. Mrs. Stansfield is giving you and Sabah the evil eye, however. While Mr. Stansfield Sr. is oblivious to the exchange between yourself and his son.

No matter, you have more important things to attend to. Like the party that is winding down.

What Do?:
[] Armsmaster is still in the area(signing autographs strangely enough), but he is due to head out if no one interacts with him meaningfully.

[] New Wave in its entirety.

[] Deputy Director Renick, Dauntless (THE Hometown Hero) and Mr. Calvert have converged together.

[] Aaron and Ophelia have appeared! You had known they were invited and were planning on attending but they didn't arrive with you and you were, probably, previously too busy to notice them.

[] Stay and soak up some political knowledge.

[] You are done with the party, you'd like to go home around now. Aster can be exhausting and you have to watch her all day tomorrow.

=====

XP Gain: 2 xp

XP Purchase:
[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

=====

You have 2 majors and 2 1 minors left. I'm stealing one of those minors for the very end for your goodbye with Sabah.

Skitzyfrenic · Aug 9, 2015

It is by law and by society that civilization is upheld. A single man is but a naked ape, many who are without laws are no more than a band of naked apes. Society is the framework, but law is the glue that holds it all together.

A single man is only capable of so much, a society of men can create wonders that humble the very Earth. But in any gathering of people, there are those that serve and those who are served. A requirement in order to make things happen.

The connections are metaphorically visible to you; your family, the Anders, a noble family whose bright star is only met by the rising star of its main rival, the Stansfields. In the days of old, the battlefield would have been populated by soldiers and assassins.

In these enlightened modern times, the battlefield was measured in money and in votes. This was how one's victory was discerned. And the Mayor stood above that, even as an King despite being elected. The wealth that pours into his war coffers, the votes that secure his rulership, he could claim more from the Anders or the Stansfields, if he chose one to support over the other. Still, that served poorly. By playing the two against each other, he would get more votes and donations than one alone.

A dangerous game. Truly dangerous. But Mayor Christner held court here, proving that he was skilled enough to play such a delicate balancing game.

And so you watched, you saw the weapons of this battlefield come to bear in the form of words and political positions, being wielded by your father and Mr. Stansfield, and saw more than you ever had before.

The laughter and smiles concealed the war being waged.

You had struck and delivered a blow to the Stansfields by destroying Dean, but he was an easy target who had no chance against the web you had been weaving all night and the subtle shiv wielded by your courtier.

Truly Sabah was worth several times her weight in precious metals.

But you watched and learned as a prince would, with a polite smile and a kind word.

"Theo, Sabah," Rory greets you as he detaches himself and Sam from his father.

"Rory, Sam," you return the greeting, your smile widening a hair, "What have the old men been getting up to?"

Almost immediately the 'old men' good naturedly call for their youth, a minor 'hiccup,' before going right back to their discussion.

"Ah, well, you know. The usual things they talk about at these things. Rising crime rates, possible revenue increases, et cetera."

Sabah and Sam pull away from yourself and Rory to talk fashion again.

"History has shown that a poor class that works is less likely to be filled with criminals," you offer Rory what insight you have.

"True," Rory returns, "But it's hard to create jobs in a city in a bad economic downturn."

To say the situation was bad was an understatement. The difference in wealth was visible as one traversed the various sections of the city.

You concede the point, you would have to do some research into how you would revitalize the economy. Instead you turn your ear to your elders.

"- the Graveyard and restart the ferry. It would cut the time to cross the city in half or better. Allowing more people to find work!"

Your father's statement is met with a shaken head.

"I'm sorry, Max, but like I consistently tell Danny Hebert, the returns for the city are over a decade out."

"I didn't make MedHall what it is without taking a few risks with long term investments."

"It would just be a money pit, even after it starts to make money, seven years from now," Mr. Stansfield cut in, "for almost another decade."

"We'd have more workers being taxed, more tourists from Boston and New York," Max counters, "the indirect gains would outweigh the losses."

"And what of the influence of the ABB, and the Empire? You mean to say that their influence wouldn't spread?"

"Many turn to the gangs out of fear and poverty, it's easy to make money in the flesh or drug trade."

"Or off illegal blood sports and gambling," Mr. Stansfield cuts Max off.

"Max, Dan," the Mayor interrupts their argument, "The clearing of the Graveyard isn't fiscally viable, nor is the restarting of the ferry subsequently. Not at this time."

What a crock of shit. You can tell that the Mayor is lying, not why, but he doesn't want the bay to be opened up again. Perhaps he wishes to cultivate more educated workers, continue the trend of IT and medicine.

"The money would be better spent in increasing the number of students we bring to the university and in advertising the fact that we have the largest cape population per capita on the eastern seaboard," Mr. Stansfield tenders his opinion.

"And the likes of Uber and Leet, who beat hookers with baseball bats; or Lung whose gang actively participates in slavery? We want to draw more attention to those capes?" Max points out.

"We do have the most popular Tinker in the country," Christner says, "And the most popular Ward in the form of Vista."

It devolves, back to points and counterpoints, and nothing gets promised, though it seems Christner is more likely to enact a tourism policy than something that would be more likely to help the city long term.

He instead offers your father more bus routes to Anders Memorial.

A paltry offering in comparison to a thriving city.

Brockton Bay was dying. And the King Elector wasn't going to do anything about it.

The Empire would be the one to heal it. Doing what was needed, excising the cancers that plagued it.

You would be at its helm.

What Do?(2 Majors left):
[] Aaron and Ophelia are available They seem to be doing what you and Sabah were previously, though with much less focus on hormones, and more of a focus on gaining political connections.

[] The Wards are likely to leave soon, it is getting late. You could speak with them before they leaved, perhaps someone other than Vista? (Who are you kidding? Vista is the best Ward. Still, though)

[] New Wave in its entirety. The local independent hero group is broken into several predictable smaller sub-groups. The teen girls are talking and laughing amongst themselves. The boys are all speaking with each other. And the women are talking quietly amongst to each other.

[] Deputy Director Renick, Dauntless (THE Hometown Hero) and Mr. Calvert are still speaking to one another. Judging from the laughter, it's probably nothing serious at this point.

[] You are done with the party, you'd like to head home. Aster can be exhausting and you have to watch her all day.
=====

XP Gain: 2 xp

XP Purchase:
[] Purchase
-[] Write in

[] Bank

User	Total
Biigoh	3
Skitzyfrenic	32
evildice	1

Theo Anders and the Black Exaltation[Worm/Exalted][Hiatus]

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

(emotionally stable clown posse)

Primordial Tanuki

Elves are for lewding.

Primordial Tanuki

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Primordial Tanuki

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.

Elves are for lewding.