It didn't take long before someone approached Shayera, inviting her for the next dance. A Chinese gentleman in an expensive suit introduced himself. <You danced quite well for one not trained in the art. I am Zhao Li Wei. My son, Zhang Wei has been classically trained. Would you do him the honor of dancing with him?>
Shayera stops herself from gulping when she recognizes the name. Zhao Li Wei owns several major shipping and tech companies and was probably one of the wealthiest men in this hemisphere. She follows his gesture and spots Zhang Wei, a lanky youth with a somewhat resentful expression on his face. Shayera nods. <The honor will be mine.>
Dammit. That dance with Bran was probably too much. And Zhao might have business with Dad, so I'd better make this look good. She steps up to Zhang Wei with a smile on her face.
<I'm sorry my father asked you instead of me,> he says somewhat ruefully as he takes one hand and places his other at her waist. <He doesn't have much patience in me. I'm Zhao Zhang Wei.> As the music begins, he starts to lead her through some steps of moderate difficulty.
<It's fine. We all have to bear the weight of our fathers' expectations,> Shayera says before opening herself up to follow her dance partner's lead. Zhang Wei guides her across the dance floor, picking up on Shayera's responsiveness.
It wasn't as effortless as with Bran. She knew him and had fought with him long enough that Shayera could easily pick up his cues. She didn't know this boy at all, so she had to put more conscious thought into her movement. Furthermore, stray worries bubbled up to the surface -- her father, the fake breakup, Bronwyn's distress, and all the eyes upon her. She tries to shut them down, focusing on the dance and blanking out the rest of her thoughts.
A strange giddiness washes over her suddenly. She hears a laugh and it takes her a moment to realize she was the one who made it. The elation lingers while she finishes off the dance, adding playful flourishes and spins in Zhang Wei's arms. She realizes she's beaming as the music draws to an end. She curtsies to her dance partner, still trying not to giggle.
Getting a hold of herself, she studies Zhang Wei. Did he do that? Does he have some emotion control power or--? He also had been grinning widely during the dance, but he suddenly shrinks back at her serious stare.
Oh. My sisters. They were planning on going out tonight. I guess they're having a good time, Shayera suddenly realizes. She quickly recovers and gives Zhang Wei a reassuring smile. <You are very skilled. Thank you for the dance,> She tells him, then slips away from the dance floor.
After watching Bran disappear towards the complex's roof, Cassie had waited a few minutes, mulling over the strange images that had flashed through her head when she'd cast her spell on him. The visions were starting to become familiar, although this one had been a bit different - It hadn't been Bran she'd seen, but rather a man with another face, similar in build to Bran but without the sense of,... sadness that seemed to accompany her visions of him. What did it mean, though, that she'd seen someone else? Could it be that their connection went deeper than just Bran and Creirwy? She'd have to investigate further. It was certain that any link between her and Bran, whatever form he wore, would relate somehow to her mother.
Gathering herself, Cassie had made her way back to the gala, slipping back in through the doorway and making her way around the room's perimeter until she found a spot where she could watch the crowd. Shayera was dancing again. Not with Bran this time, of course, but with an attractive chinese boy who seemed to know his way around the dance floor. Cassie's frowned involuntarily, Shayera was drawing a lot of attention to herself this evening and, well, it didn't seem fair that she was the one who kept getting asked to dance when she wasn't even in to boys. Was she?
Cassie's thoughts were inturrupted by an accented voice, and she turned to find the tall, well-dressed woman standing close to her.
"Thank you." she said with a smile in response to the woman's complement. At the her request for a dance, Cassie glanced nervously over at the far table where she could see Odysseus guzzling wine. It would probably be more sensible to stay where she was and avoid his attention. Probably. But, on the other hand....
"I'd love to!" she replied, flashing a smile at the woman and reaching out to let the her lead her out onto the dance floor. "I'm ur,... 'Hex', or Cassiphone if you like? What should I call you...?"
Bran carefully turned away from the dance floor, trying not to let his emotions break past his mask, trying to focus on the scarred man before her.
Hardly anyone uses the full name...
Bran took the drink with a gracious nod, but let it rest safely in one hand. It never really occurred to her to drink something a stranger at a party had given her.
"Of course. Let us adjourn to the balcony."
Kaoru had successfully gotten pictures of everyone on the team as well as a bunch of other people. Or more accurately, "Miguel" from the Halycon Preparatory Academy's school newspaper had (full name, Miguel Jesus Zorro). Bran had been kind of a b!$@* about the whole thing, basically dodging him, but eventually he had gotten his picture too. And he had avoided making snide comments about how it wouldn't steal your soul since that wasn't really something the young and excitable Miguel would have done upon meeting "Bran the Blessed."
That accomplished, he had taken a quick break in the family restroom to change up the accessories on his suit to some nice blue shades as well as swapping his guy fox mask for a Guy Fawke's one. After sending the images from his phone to his watch, running a quick program, and then doing some manual touch-up, he quickly sent a series of emails from different anonymous accounts to the various media outlets with a presence at the gala. He straightened his tie as he exited the bathroom. Well, that should handle whatever Alexandra was worried about. He headed over to the buffet table to grab a quick plate of food before heading off to continue his games.
Alexis looked at the man seating himself at his table. He immediately has a dislike for the man. Alexis feels like he is some kind of specimen to be studied by him. Reduced to his abilities and his training. He could tell him to go away, but it felt like anytime he'd been remotely aggressive half of the people in the room watching him were breathing down his neck.
So he got up, ignoring the man completely and headed to the buffet table, stepping past a smaller person in a goateed face mask and grabbed the last of the bacon-wrapped scallops, tossing it on his plate perhaps a little more forcefully than he intended - as it bounced right off and rolled onto the floor, ruining it.
"...sorry," He apologized to the vicinity, grabbing a napkin to try and clean up his mess.
Bran beamed genially at the excited young man as he snapped his photo, glad that this was a face she didn't have to hide, and very unlike the efforts she'd gone to as 'Acolyte.' She'd made certain that the best photos of her were shadowy profiles, or full on, but blurred by last-minute movement, or blinking, or just a stony, off-center bland expression - nothing notably embarrassing or fabulously photogenic - nothing remotely printable at all.
A domino mask is good enough for keeping things fuzzy and deniable, but I really don't need a nice, crisp style-section close up for anyone to compare notes to. Especially since it's not like I haven't been in the paper before...
Casiphone the woman says A pretty name. You can call me Aria she pronounces it air-ee-a. She leads you to the dance floor, and seems more comfortable leading than following.
You've fallen in with heroes, I see. she says, speaking to you like an aunt, or old family friend. Dear sweet child, I did something not too dissimilar when I was... well, a few years younger than you. betrayed my family for a hero. she grimmaces.
I grew to regret it. was abandoned by him. Don't make my mistake, sweetheart. don't rely on them.
The man with the scar accompanies you to the balcony, his expession getting a bit serious. I represent a man of much influence and power, and have been asked to convey a few messages to you. He smiles, the scar takign on a sinister look in moonlight, where it merely added character to "Charlies" face
but first, one to your host. he smiles maliciously My master says that by rights, he should have you flogged to death for hosting this Brute, but he will offer you clemency, at any time, if you simply find a way to hand him Bran. he says.
As you reach down for the snack, it lifts itself up,a nd arcs toard the trash. well, you're just one big ball of fluster A voice that seems to come from everywhere says. looking up, you see Madeline two paces away. So, Mercy, whats eating you?
"Nothing right now. Once I had a few fingers eaten by an alligator. Or a crocodile." This was the girl that had been talking to Hex before, he recalled. He stood up carefully to avoid unnecessarily elbowing someone. "How are you doing that with your voice?" He asks her.
Madeleine titters. I don't suppose you were holding a clock at the time? She asks, hazel eyes sparkling. It's not my voice. I'm a telepath. can't go deep, but empathy and communication are easy as hell.
She takes a couple steps forward But I meant "what's got you flinging hor d'oeuvres?"
Kaoru blinked behind his mask at the...sixth? terrible photo of Bronwyn he had taken in a row. It wasn't like he was actually a legit photographer, but he was pretty sure it shouldn't have been that hard. After all, all the newest phones had built in software to make you look better. Finally he decided to just speak up using his somewhat nasally, higher-than-normal "Miguel" voice. Not that it was for Bronwyn's benefit; there probably weren't that many people wearing a fox mask (No other people?), but it was important to remain in-character, as it were. He kept his voice down though.
"Excuse me Señorita, these pictures, they are no bueno. Would you like for me to just find a picture that is better online and photoshop it on with a mask?"
*****
"Gracias, Señor the Blessed. I am sure our readers will be very excited when they hear I actually got to meet you in person! I'll make sure to let the know you were really as gordo as they say!" "Miguel" made a hand gesture to indicate Bran's excessive height even as he smirked behind his mask.
She couldn't help but wince at Kaoru's Miguel accent. **That's** not cool. Not that I even know why he's doing this whole disguise-thing in the first place...
Bronwyn leaned down close to 'Miguel.' "Yeah... nothing recognizable please. It's pretty bad for serious athletes to be too closely associated with capes. Even if I'm just support... It raises a lot of questions... I don't need some capewatcher combing through the sports section and seeing suspiciously similar profiles...
"And umm... do you have to do the whole ELL voice? Really?"
Bran's face paled; his eyes widened. Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap.
"Balor," Oh my God the scar! "You're here from Balor." You idiot!
What do they know about me?! Can they just see it?! No... no if they're talking like Bran's possessing me, then they don't know as much as they think.
"Speak quickly before I eject you from this gathering. I would not see it sullied with violence merely for a serpent like you."
...He's not possessing me, right?
***
Why you little brat! Should I just school him? No real reason why Bran couldn't know Spanish, right? It's not like English is any closer to what Bran spoke. Probably farther since he could have actually learned Latin... And Kaoru knows he could've learned it from me...
Nah. The point is not to make people think about what languages I speak...
Totally gonna get him for this later though!
"Of course. And who knows? Perhaps one day you will be as 'gordo' as I."
Kaoru had a brief moment of wondering if the little Spanish he had used wasn't appropriate for the accent he had researched. Nah, it's probably basic enough that it works regardless. She probably just doesn't like Mexican Spanish accents. He smiled behind his mask. "Sí se puede, Señorita. And no worries about the accent, you will not need to listen any longer. I think I have all I need. Muchas gracias. If you will excuse me, I need to go get more pictures. I think I see your master." He took off after a shadow Bran.
*****
"Oh, I do not think so, Señor Bran. When regular mortals grow to that size, it is no good for our health. Thank goodness you are immune to such things!" It was probably a good thing the voice modulator made his voice come out excited and sincere. "If you will excuse me, I still have mucho photos to take. Adios."
Shayera flits about the gala, still catching flashes of her sisters' good mood while she exchanges pleasantries with the other attendees. The occasional bouts of elation strike suddenly, and she has to try to restrain herself from laughing too loud at the otherwise awkward or fake attempts at humor by those with whom she's talking.
She finds herself suddenly fervently wishing for thumping, energetic dance music rather than the staid orchestral variety at the Gala. She could almost hear the pounding bass in her ears. She wanted to throw her hands up and thrash around on a crowded dance floor filled with sweaty people jumping in time with the beat.
She needed people. She needed energy. She caught the sound of the crowds just outside the art museum and headed that way. Immediately the flashes and clicks intensified when she stepped out on the red carpet. Cape watchers and other fans without an invite yet hoping for a glimpse of a hero or three started cheering as she arrived. She had been overshadowed by Whippoorwill when she'd first arrived, but now there was no one else.
Shayera smiles broadly at the crowd, waving her hands and stretching her wings out. It was close to what her sisters were experiencing, so it helped. She still couldn't dance to the thumping beat in her heart, but she could play to the crowd. She blew kisses to the fans, posed for pictures and selfies, and answered questions into microphones jammed in her face.
I wonder why Whippoorwill hates this. This is pretty fun.
Yes. Finally you understand. he says, clearly delighting in Bran's shock.
As it please you, though know that I do so on the orders of one greater than thee, would-be Hero. He snarls defiance on his face as Bran threatens him.
My Master bids me tell you that, whilst thee and thy sister persist, for the moment, in defying him in this world, he has taken the third, and you shall get no aid from him. My master has seen to it. he taunts, nodding on a personal note, I look forward to seeing his gaze fall upon you. he sneers as he turns to leave.
My... sister? Branwen?! And there's some kind of Third too?! Would that be... Manawydan?
I swear, if Alexandra is right and I'm- No. Existential crises later. Right now I've got to focus on savi- Wait, Alexandra!
Bran leaned forward, jaw set resolutely and spoke in a low rumble, "If Balor has returned, then I will find whatever fool he has deceived into hosting him and draw him forth as venom is drawn from a wound."
With a catlike surge Bran seized the cultist and lifted him aloft, turning slightly, seeking to capture Alexandra's gaze.
If she tags this guy now then our lives become a lot easier.
Master?! What the heck does he mean by 'Master?'
"Umm that's not really what I... K."
She looked over Miguel towards 'Bran,' or as was plain to Bronwyn's eyes, Gharial. Easy enough mistake to make, at a distance, through a crowd. Thanks again Cassie.
"I didn't throw it. It bounced off my plate," Alexis explained. He felt that he needed to do something with his hands. He was somehow really conscious about what his hands were doing now, wanting to wiggle the fingers or do anything else. He laced them behind his back to keep still.
"...I'm not enjoying the gala as much as I wish I could," He admitted. "People are constantly watching me. I think they are afraid of me."
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Cassie easily fell into the steps of the dance, happily letting ' Aria' lead. As they danced, and the other woman talked, Cassie tried to keep her face impassive as best she was able. The woman could be anyone after-all. Some weird cape-watcher, a random bad-guy, a reporter looking for some scoop on how the new team was divided or how Cassie was sure to follow in the steps of her mother, or even someone working for Circe herself!
Instead, she smiled politely as they spun in time to the music. "Thank you for you concern." she replied "but I know how to look after myself. Our team may not be particularly traditional, but they're all trustworthy and wouldn't abandon me." Well, apart from maybe Kaoru, Alexandra, Shaun, Shayera if her dad manipulates her the wrong way, or Alexis if the Trikosia get to him or he's sulking about something weird. Bron's reliable though - Bran'll have my back!
Do you want booze then? Something else to help you enjoy it? She offers
Of course everyone is paying attention to you. You're one of the heroes. most of them came to see you. she says and... well, after that video started making the rounds, you are a little scary. you're one of the three contenders for scariest member of your team. At least until Alexandra is Outed.
You catch the man easily enough, though you've already created a scene doing so. and, as anyone with much younger cousins/siblings can tell you, even with superior strength, restraining a squirming, determined target is quite difficult. Alexandra is en route, but he might get away before she gets through the crowd.
Aria smiles wistfully I thought the same too. He was a little older than me, all muscles and tousled hair. Beautiful. I Betrayed my country, my family for him. helped him kill my half-brother. and he whisked me away in the dead of night, a conquering hero. She sighs He had promised to marry me, make me his princess
He smile turns sour. and he left me, on an island in the middle of the sea. Cassiphone, I dearly hope you do not know how deep such betrayal cuts. I wept for days.
But, another came for me. A man even greater than my first love. she says. and suddenly, you place the accent. it sounds like your mother, in her more emotional moments. it's the accent one gets when ones first language was Ancient Greek A god, beautiful and powerful. he took me to his palace, made me his lady. it was wonderful.
But the gods are fickle too. and in time, he grew bored of my. returned me. an exile from my home, abandoned by the only mortal I knew from beyond my shores... I was lost, until someone found me, and taught me to be greater than i thought I could be. Taught me not to need anyone. she syas [ooc[]shifting superior up, savior down[/ooc]
Bran looked around at the scene he was causing with no hint of a self-satisfied grin showing on his face.
There was no need to powder the bones of this fool, but before he got to the point of either hurting him or freeing him he looked the cultist in the eye and said. "You will not heed this now, but I pray you will recall it later. It is not too late for you."
Then he put him down, trying to stand in such a way that his flight would take him past Alexandra's approach.
"I have never had booze before," Alexis admits, wondering what it would taste like. Though the thought was derailed by her next statement.
"What video are you talking about?" Alexis had never been on camera during hero work, right? He would have remembered that. A chill ran up his spine. Maybe he'd forgotten something he had done as a girl. Something that people had caught him doing.
But that still didn't make much sense. How would people know that Alexis was the same person...which also confused him as to how everyone seemed to already know in the circle of heroes around him.
Cassie let the other woman talk, she didn't seem like an immediate threat but she must be here for something and it wasn't likely to be that she was just in the mood to offer some 'advice'. Carefully, Cassie maintained a pleasant smile, doing her best to project the impression that she was enjoying the dance to anyone who might be watching. Internally though, her mind raced. For once, she was glad of the reading that Gabrielle had been forcing her to do on Greek mythology - Many of the myths were half-remembered truths and more than a few contradicted each other, but there was often a grain of truth. Gabrielle had always said it'd come in useful...
Aria,... betrayed half-brother, betrayed country,... hmm, there's a few of those. Left on an island,.. taken by a god and abandoned,... Aria,...
Cassie smiled pleasantly at the women. "Well" she replied with a pleased laugh, as if they were doing no more than having a pleasant dance and talk. "It sounds like you've betrayed people as often as they've betrayed you. I've known my own share of betrayal myself - but you know that already, don't you. I must say, your brother must've been quite horrible, quite the animal for you to betray him for someone you just met. But these things are always complicated, aren't they - Like a maze, or a tangled thread don't you think?" she laughed. Tell me, what brings you here? Its very pleasant to talk and dance, but something tells me you came for more than just a fun night out."
Alexandra runs toward the man Bran had been. at one point, her hand disappears into the folds of her sparse skirt, and comes up with a dart. She shoves a man in a suit aside, shouting Sorry, hero stuff! she says. Most people here wouldn't mind. they got the story of watching the heroes in action
and as she vaults over a table, a sharp edge catches on her dress at the midsection. she feels it tear, and has a choice: let the target get away without a tracker, or make that Janet Jackson business look downright tame. She chooses to let him get away, shooting an apologetic looks at Bran and she finally reaches him, one hand very occupied.
Please get Kay. Or B, or wingblade, or Cassie. I'm gonna need help here.
Oh, you hadn't heard? Maddie says. Here, let me find it She fiddles with her phone a moment, audio begins playing a few times, before she mutters something in the negative, and tries again. eventually she finds one she likes. Okay, here. this has been circulating for about a week. She tells you. just before she full-screens it, you see the Video is entitles "Mercy X SilverShadow Battle!"
On the screen, you see yourself. Still female, but the armour and video quality doesn't make that overly clear. To her side is Wingblade, giving herself an impromptu Tracheotomy, and Shaun, still out of it after having Wingblade used as a projectile at him. and Mercy is stalking toward The Silver Shadow, who has her crossbow out. you see her go to move, and Mercy move to match her a few times, and steps forward once, twice, before you catch Alexandra's left arm slide into her pocket for a moment, as her right fires her crossbow 3 times. Mercy brings her arm up almost casually to block the darts, but in doing so, blinds herself to the grenade The Silver Shadow, Alexandra, tossed at her (Your) feet. it goes off, and dust obscures Mercy. you didn't see it, last time, but Alexandra palms another explosive. You recognize it as a Military Grade Incendiary Device. the dust settles, and Mercy seems to be about to keep going, even with her clothes in tatters, legs torn to hell and back. You see Alexandra's thumb go to the pin, before Mercy collapses. the video ends.
Yeah, that version only has a few million hits, but there are a few, that keep getting taken down...
Ariadne smiles I knew you were clever girl. but Beast or no, He was still my Brother. She says Even when My savior taught me to recall him to myself, it was never the same. keeping our connections to family is important. She says.
I came here for two things. to tell you that I'm impressed, and that I think, given time and training, I could get you to the point where your mother would accept you back, resolve to use another. I wanted to offer you that, the chance to have a family. her words are rushed, as if she is very urgently trying to get them all out now.
and, I came here to give a reminder of the past. a man like him is hard to poison, nothing flesh for the poison, and the spell within, to bind to. the trick was Lotus flowers. both connected to him, and to poison. the fool has drank more than enough. no doubt the change will come to him very soon. she glares at Odysseus so, Cassiphone, you have a choice. stay ehre, and suffer under his scorn and accusations more, or come with me, and let me teach you, as your mother once taught me...
Cassie let the woman - Ariadne - lead her through the dance steps in time with the music, doing her best to give nothing away to any onlookers as she considered the woman's words. Finally, however, she stumbles and stops them in shock as Ariadne tells her what she's done, and makes her offer.
"What have you done to him?" she asks, staring over Ariadne's shoulder at the hulking statue of Odysseus. You've poisoned him? No,.. the change? What change?"[/b] The woman's other words come back to her - 'My savior taught me to recall him to myself.',..
"You haven't,... The Minotaur? Is that what's going to happen?" she fixes her gaze back on Ariadne, "You've set this up so that he'll blame me, haven't you! You think I'd come with you? That I'll trust some minion of my mother's? After what she tried to do to me? We both know there's no-one else she can use! Why would I trust you? If you're loyal to her you'll just give me to her and, if you've betrayed her, then why wouldn't you just betray me too? You think I'm stupid enough to just go with you? If you want me to trust you, you'll have to more than that! Why do you even think I won't just stop you now? Why've you risked comping here? Why now?"
Bran's face creases in disappointment for a moment, but it quickly reforms into an expression of gentle bemusement. Bending low he unbuttoned his jacket and swept it around Alexandra's shoulders, covering up everything til down around her knees. "Of course," he rumbled, "Hex may be able to effect a more fashionable solution."
As he strode gingerly through the crowded press towards where Cassie was dancing with the intriguing woman, he reached up to the comm in his ear. "Wingblade, there is a man fleeing the gala. He has a scar across one eye and a newly rumpled suit. You would do me a great service if you determined whither he runs."
Wingblade was still at the red carpet giving short interviews and taking selfies when Bran's urgent message comes through. She doesn't change her expressions or body language, but she immediately goes on high alert, straining her senses for a sign of the man fitting Bran's description.
It was actually pretty easy. She caught a tinge of Bran's heady sweat and the motion of someone hurriedly pushing past the throngs of people gathered at the entrance. She was holding up someone's phone out to take another selfie of her and an admirer when she catches a glimpse of the man behind her. She takes the picture immediately, getting a decent shot of him in the background behind the beaming fan.
"Send that to me?" she asks, realizing inwardly that she'll have to create a social media profile as soon as possible.
She takes a step away from the crowd and zeroes in on the man with the scar. Bran wants to know where he's going. This could be tricky.
"Gimme some space!" she tells the crowd as her wings flare out. "No upskirt shots, please," she says as people step back, then she launches herself into the air. She spins and spirals overhead, looking like she's showboating for the fans, but she's also keeping an eye on the man with the scar as he dashes out away from the gala and clambers into a car. She circles wider, meanwhile activating the enhancements in her domino mask. She tags the car as it's driving away catching the license plate (LABOR 4U).
"Bran, I've tagged the target and his vehicle. I'm in the sky. What's your call?" she asks, letting him decide if she should engage, follow, or let him go.
"He's a minnow. If he can be found again soon, no need to hunt him now."
"Copy that," Wingblade says as she drops back to the crowd, mindful of her high heels. She smiles at the cheers and applause her aerial show brought her, but she was on a mission now. She waves to the crowd outside as she moves back inside the gala and scans the patrons.
Quickly finding who she was looking for, she strides up to the portly man currently eating a slice of cheesecake near the dessert table. "Mr. Phat, right? How quickly can you set up a social media presence?"
The promoter sputters briefly at the surprise question, but recovers. "Well, it's a matter of getting profiles up on all the major platforms, putting up some filters to block the trolls, and then the cross-posting and friending to drive up your followers. It won't take long, but getting the word out that it's really you and not a poser will take a bit more time."
Wingblade nods seriously. "Okay, you're hired. I need all that up in an hour, sooner if you can."
J.P. Phat nearly chokes on his dessert. "But, my fee? We haven't--"
"Clock's ticking!"
He almost starts to protest further, but the hint of suspicion fades when he sees the set in Wingblade's jaw and her serious expression. He nods, then takes her arm and escorts her back out to the crowd just outside the gala.
The showman in the portly man rises to the surface and he's soon announcing that Wingblade real and official profiles will be up and ready to go before the evening is over. He bows, kisses her hand, and then is off, phone against his ear and shouting urgently to whomever he just woke up.
Oh. Alexis didn't remember this moment. This was in the haze, when she (and he was she then) was acting on instinct and fighting anything and everything that could be a threat. It was strange anyone had been close enough to actually capture video in such detail.
"That's not me." Alexis informed the girl. "Do you think that I'm her?" He asks, pointing to the girl blown apart by her teammate in the video. "You're wrong. That girl died. She was killed."
Wingblade's wings twitch unconsciously as she watches the man go, then she abruptly turns and heads back into the gala. Overseer Innis is probably having a fit since the team still hasn't been out here for pictures. I should go see how everyone's doing.
She saunters around the gala, exchanging smiles and greetings with attendants while keeping her senses alert for members of her team. She's a bit surprised when she catches the scent of Kaoru and spots him in a different mask than what he'd been wearing when he first arrived.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks when she walks up to him. "This is a see and be seen party, not a masquerade. Anyway, rally the troops, we're supposed to have a group photo or something."
Kaoru politely excused himself from the group of entrepreneurs he was chatting up to have a word with the Wingblade, what an honor! When he spoke it was with a slightly old fashioned New England accent. "What a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wingblade. Please, call me Richard Emilson. What was that about a picture? Oh yes, I do believe the honorable Silver Shadow the Third asked Mr. Renard to get a picture of the new teen hero group. Don't worry; it has already been done, and I am assured the picture has already been sent to the members of the press here." He pulled out his phone to email the team picture he had expertly constructed. It was quite possibly the first and only time Bran and Acolyte would ever be seen together. In addition, Acolyte and "Machina" were hardly recognizable to those who knew who they were. "Machina" for starters was conveniently in the back row of the image, about as tall as Mercy, and was wearing a full-face mask, though not one of the ones he had actually worn.
Ariadne smiles No, No, I wouldn't subject my little brother to such a form... but I suppose you're determined to see what it is, so I'll not spoil the surprise
She looks at you, wistfully as you lay into her about being untrustworthy. She is still young enough to have children. She would have to get a bit older than she is accustomed to, but Cir could deal. Cir always was very good at adapting. and she recognizes talent, If we could train you up some, before you and she met again... I think.. she looks over your shoulder and says We'll speak again. Soon. as she begins to walk away, quickly.
Behind you, something is going wrong with Odysseus, he is hunched over, and in pain. If you moved fast, maybe you could stop whatever is being done to him.
Madeleine's eyebrow quirks. That isn't you? then why did Hex [rl=https://paizo.com/campaigns/MasksANewGenerationOfHeroes/gameplay&page=91#4512]introduce you as Mercy?[/url]
[b]And, why is your mind so conflicted when you say that? are you saying that to not scare me, or because you want to be someone different? Or because there are people who are safer if people think you are dead?
Wingblade tilts her head to observe Kaoru's phone (since she didn't bring her Abacus handheld with her to the Gala) and suppresses a scowl. How did he do that? Well, with computers, I suppose. What is Kaoru up to? It's a neat trick, I guess, but it's not going to satisfy Innis. He's going to know we didn't pose for that picture, or will want it done somewhere else, or some other nonsense.
Wingblade just about opens her mouth to voice those thoughts, but realization dawns. Wait. Why should I care? It's not my problem ever since he fired me as leader. Let Innis freak out over it.
She smiles at Kaoru's current persona. "Oh, I see. Well, if that's solved, then we might catch a break while Innis thinks of something else to be pissed about."
She holds her hands out. "So, 'Mr. Emilson,' would you like to dance?"
For a moment Cassie stared at the retreating back of Ariadne. I should go after her. Or tell one of the others to sort her out. So why aren't I going to? Why am I just going to let her go? More to the point. Why am I even going to try and help Odysseus? He's not going to thank me, that's for sure. Just dumb, I guess.... She thought as she quickly lifted her skirt just enough that she could extract a couple of key components from the hidden pockets and then turned and began running for the hulking statue.
As she neared him, she slowed. "Out of the way." she said, pushing past the crowd of people who'd noticed his state. "I might be able to help. Does anyone know what he's been,.. eating or drinking or whatever? Get me some of whatever he's been having." Kneeling next to him so that he could see his face, she spoke to Odysseus. "It's me. You know me." she said. "I'm going to try to help, if I can. Is that OK?"
Kaoru was about to try repeating his question to Wingblade in the hopes that she might actually give an answer where Alexandra didn't, but his thought process was thrown for a loop when he got asked to dance. Which given that the "would you like" part was just a formal nicety rather than actually asking if he wanted to, was exactly what had just happened. The honest answer was that no, he didn't want to dance. His one dance of the night had been a train wreck of anxiety and discomfort. He had very little reason to think that another with someone he was less comfortable with would be any better.
While he could probably play the literal interpretation card, Chloe had made it very clear what dance etiquette demanded and therefore how she expected him to respond. He was already failing the more lenient part of her expectations by having only danced once thus far. More than that and he risked incurring her wrath. Which was more likely to say intense disappointment, guilt-tripping, and probably no cuddles that night. Which admittedly, was really more hurting her than him since she was the one who kept proclaiming that touch was her love language and how deprived of it she was. He only did it to make her feel better.
He glanced around. He didn't see Chloe nearby. But there was also a pretty good chance she'd be able to read the guilt on his face when they got home that night. She was annoyingly skilled that way. It might be better not to risk it. Besides, maybe it wouldn't be as terrible if he got to lead? Best to make it an assertion rather than a question then. "Alright. I'm leading." His voice came out smooth and even as he held out a hand to take hers. He paused to listen to the music. At the very least identifying what dances are appropriate is easy. He crossed off quickstep, Charleston, and Lindy Hop; he didn't really know any of those. And I think the music might be too slow for them anyway? That just left two other options. "Would you prefer East Coast Swing or foxtrot?"
Wingblade watches the short internal debate that Kaoru had about dancing with her; it was plainly obvious despite the full face mask that he considered declining. So she gives him a genuine smile when he decides to agree.
She takes his hands and steps backwards toward the dance floor, her heels giving her the height to be eye level with Kaoru. Every other dance thus far her partner had been much taller than her, so she was looking forward to this. She gives a slight shrug of her shoulders as he asks which dance she'd prefer. "I don't know the difference either way, so you pick. I'll follow your lead."
Odysseus's struggles brought Bran's attention as well, and he quickly diverted from his quest. Probably more important than a little magic sewing - sorry Alexandra. "Hex, what has befallen him. I assume that he is not simply the worse for drink?"
As Bran knelt to examine the living statue, a blinding pain struck him just behind the eye. Gah! Is this really the time to start getting a migraine or whatever?! She tried to power through, but trying to get any sort of detailed look at Odysseus felt like someone was jamming a red hot poker through his eye!
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He was old now. He could feel in the ache of joints and creak of sinew how far he was from the callow youth who would delight in the beauty of Creirwy the fair, or wrestle with white-cloaked demons for souls in the Halcyon days yet to come.
A hoary beard normally shielded his face against the salty breeze, the only thing that had threatened him in the decades since he'd hidden away, until now. It was a good beard, he felt, a warrior's beard, a hero's beard even, to match anything his old shipmates and rivals had worn in the long months on the Argo. It warmed his cheeks, and for many years it had hidden his face, a better shield against the grasping hearts of Man than the Aegis itself. But this 'Captain Nemo' and his thieves were here nonetheless.
He'd found them pillaging and looting his stores; they claimed they were merely lost sailors, but they were too quick to their swords for that. Their rapacity and the cunning gleam in Nemo's eye sang to him of a truer name than sailor - Pirate.
They were quick to their swords, true, and he was old now, scarred half to blindness by wounds that had seen more winters than these stripling brigands. He had neither breastplate nor shield, spear nor sword, for the life he'd made as a herder of sheep demanded them not. And though he towered over the greatest of them like a cur amidst rats, it did not give them pause.
Two of them died at the first pass.
Old, yes, and slower than he'd been when Mad Iason had gathered them all for his quest, softer than he'd been when he'd warred with the shrieking horse-men of Thessaly, who would plague the Achaeans no longer, but by the gods he was still strong.
All the relentless force of his father's waves and tides was in his arms and hands, and men such as men were today could not withstand it. They crumpled to pieces like discarded dolls, and soon their chieftain cried out for mercy. Like a fool, he'd agreed.
They were his guests now, though sullen and angry as guests should not be. He'd killed more of them when they'd tried once more to overpower him, and eventually he'd resorted to stopping up his cave with a boulder even larger than he was. Now that any victory would only be followed by a slow death in a dark tomb, Nemo's schemes had stopped in favor of something more pleasing. He had never been a libertine like Orpheus, or a drunken sot like Hylas's great brute of an erastes, but by the gods, the years here had passed slowly indeed without wine!
When the wine ran out though... They would have to die. Even if he believed their honeyed words of a peaceful journey home instead of the tale told by the plundered treasures that their ship bore, they could not go now. They had seen his still-young Ram, pride of his flocks and hope of his future; they had seen the Fleece.
Once Mad Iason had paid the price of his kingdom, and his witch's wiles had emptied for him a throne, there had been no need that he be the one to keep the Fleece that they had all fought for. And mad as he was, even Iason had seen the wisdom in keeping such a potent talisman of life and death far away from those who would abuse offs power, far away from the woman he would soon scorn.
He knew nothing of the chants or spells that might unlock the power Aeetes's daughter had shown the Fleece to have, but he'd heard tales of a new witch who'd made her lair on Aeaea, and for years he'd told himself that in time he would go and best or bargain with her for her leatnings.
It was time; he'd grown old enough to know that even he would one day die. He feared it. It named him a craven, but he could admit it to himself at least. Maybe if I didn't know exactly how much it would hurt...
He'd grown stronger since taking the Fleece, but the dreams of war and sacrifice that had haunted him ever since he'd been given his first blade had grown stronger still. He'd thought they were dreams of a life he didn't recall, then grown to fear that they were a doom unfulfilled. In any case, always death came for him the same way, with a stabbing pain and a burning agony that never ceased.
But with the Ram's immortality I'll never need face it. I'll finish their wine tonight, and see what these sailors know of Aeaea. Tomorrow I'll take their ship and charts and begin my journey.
He looked guiltily at Nemo and his men and took another larger swallow. Leaving them here they'd surely die soon enough, and kill some of my neighbors in their frenzy. Better to... Better to end things quickly.... Tomorrow...
***
He awoke to a darkness filled with a coppery wetness that soaked his beard and bubbled with his every jagged breath.
And pain, pain he knew too well.
It lanced through his remaining eye, skewering it with a terrible searing heat. Long dormant wrath swelled and he raged through his home, howling in anguish and growing frustration that Nemo's men were hidden by the bleating terror of his flock.
Don't leave them anywhere to skulk.
He fumbled over to the boulder and gently rolled it back, barely open wide enough for his sheep to escape single file. Patiently he waited, brushing his gnarled hands along the tangles of their wool, but when the flock was gone, the murdering pirates were still nowhere to be found. Snarling, he stumbled towards the beach. Even if they'd escaped his cave, he could halt their flight by shattering their ship.
His friends and neighbors saw his anguish and tried to help, but all he could think to warn them was that Outis/Nemo"Nobody had blinded him! Nobody had done this to him! "
He sank to his knees in the surf and grit, calling out to his father for vengeance, hoping that it would be enough if he kept that face fixed in his mind, that face which he hated above all others, that face... That face...
***
Bran's face was white as a sheet, eyes screwed shut to avoid looking at Odysseus as his face contorted in silent agony. Pain lanced through him, but all of Bronwyn's will was turned towards keeping Bran's fists unclenched, her spear safely fastened to his lapel. No. No! That's not me! I'm not going to take vengeance for some- That's not me!
"Let's do foxtrot then." As a more formal dance, foxtrot had been covered as part of cotillion and therefore was a style he was more familiar with. He went to move into frame only to realize suddenly that the people who had taught him how to get into frame had never really explained how to do it with someone with wings. Sharp, pointy, limb-severing, probably thirsting for the blood of her enemies wings. Chloe had made it very clear that she considered putting his hand on his partner's waist unacceptable, and he didn't want a lecture on being a "sketchy lead." He had seen some interesting videos where the guy actually wrapped his arm around his partner's back, but that would require that they stand really close together. He didn't really want Bronwyn seeing them like that and thinking he was making a move on her ex. That had also been for a different style of dance, so he wasn't sure if that worked with foxtrot. He quickly settled on just putting his hand slightly lower than normal. If that was a position where it would be harder to "connect" with his partner or whatever, he probably wasn't good enough to know the difference, so it wouldn't matter.
Wait, if she said she didn't know the difference between foxtrot and East Coast Swing, did that mean she didn't know foxtrot? "Uhhh, do you need me to, like, teach you the basics of this? It's back-back-side-together." He lightly tapped a slow-slow-quick-quick rhythm in time to the steps. "We can just do that simple step if you wanted?" He suddenly realized that thus far, he had only really tried to lead Chloe. And Chloe was a really good dancer with years of experience in a variety of styles. What if he couldn't lead someone less experienced? Maybe he should have insisted that Chloe teach him some cool moves. At least then, he could then teach them to Wingblade. Ugh, why had he listened when she had insisted that it was more important to work on his "connection" with his partner? Would connection even help if the other person didn't know the basic steps? Crap, why hadn't he thought to ask about this? Though knowing Chloe, he could probably make up random stuff to the beat of the music, and she'd still be able to follow along.
Maybe he should have been doing what she had originally wanted and been asking a bunch of people who at least knew what they were doing to dance in order for him to practice. But if he accidentally got one of the really good follows, wouldn't she hate dancing with him because he didn't know all these cool, fancy moves? And how was he supposed to know that Wingblade was going to ask him to dance to begin with? What was even the point of all of this? It wasn't like he was ever going to dance again outside this stupid gala. Whatever. Just power through, and then go far from the dance floor until the night ends and try to forget everything that happened.
Wingblade nods in concentration as Kaoru gives her the basic steps of the foxtrot. "I don't know the dance, but I've found out I can pick up the steps pretty quick. Start basic, and if I'm doing good, you can add the more complex stuff."
She could sense some reluctance or hesitation on the part of Kaoru. His hands seem reluctant to get close to her wings, so she closes them up tight and makes sure the pinfeathers are out away from her partner's fingers. She gives him a wink. "No pressure, jōshi. Let's just have fun."
Kaoru gave a slight nod, shifting his weight to his right foot before finding an appropriate point in the music to step forward. He wasn't entirely sure he was engaging his lats the way he was supposed to (and to be honest, he still wasn't entirely sure what his "lats" were and how he would know if he was engaging them), but instead of thinking about that, he focused on making sure to move his body. It was very tempting to slowly slide his feet out first to make sure he wouldn't step on Wingblade's feet, but Chloe had said that actually made it more likely he was going to step on them. He had to move his body first because that's what his partner would feel, and then move his feet after almost as if they were catching his body before it could fall.
It was awkward at first; his practice with Chloe hadn't been anywhere near enough to build up muscle memory, so he essentially had to re-learn the appropriate timing between moving his torso and legs. Luckily, years of musical training meant coordinating actions to a beat wasn't that hard. It just took some experimentation to get right again. Once that seemed to be going smoothly, he tried varying things up a little. Nothing too fancy. A twist of his upper body to change direction. Reversing the direction of a step to give a more in-place turn and avoid running into the couple cutting heedlessly across them. Pressure with his hands to encourage WIngblade to pivot as he did likewise to have them walk in the same direction for a few steps (he was pretty sure there was a name for that, and he was almost positive it was a dumb name).
Forgetting himself for a moment, he raised his left arm and applied slight pressure to her back with his right to lead an underarm turn. Too late, he remembered that Wingblade didn't know foxtrot footwork and that there was no way for him to lead her into doing it when they were only connected by one hand and weren't doing symmetric things. Tensely, he watched how she would react, ready to awkwardly shuffle forward and bring her back into frame if she either froze up or went completely off track.
Dancing with Kaoru was different from the other partners thus far this evening. He knew the steps, but didn't have the confidence in her that she'd pick up her role in the foxtrot. He guided her ably for a good portion of the dance, but when they broke apart and she wasn't expected to simply mirror his moves, Shayera was forced to improvise.
Not knowing the steps expected of her, she could only hope that what she did looked like part of the dance. She spins under his arm, knowing at the very least that the woman's part was far more fluid. Kaoru being hung up on gender roles as he was, she expected him to appreciate that.
She arches her back and spreads her wings, incorporating her unique appendages into the dance since there's no way an ordinary dancer could do the same. It may not be a traditional foxtrot, but hopefully it looked natural all the same.
As she returns to the starting position with Kaoru, she expects the next run-through to be far more successful since she'd gone through the steps a few times already. However, something in her periphery catches her senses and her head snaps around to spot Bran and Odysseus in some sort of distress. Cassie was close by as well, looking ready to help the two heroes of legend.
"Something's up," she tells Kaoru. "We should see if we can help. Sorry if our dance is cut short but wouldn't you agree?"
Mercy looked at the slightly psychic girl as if she had asked him why the sun wasn't the moon.
"Because I am Mercy." Because I am Mercy.
"That girl is dead. People die when they are killed." That girl is dead. People die when they are killed.
A commotion was happening elsewhere in the gala, the rumblings propping up his attention as he noticed Shayera hurrying towards it from the dance floor. "Bye," He told Claire, hustling over himself to see what was going on.
Odysseus snarls, though it comes out more like a squeal, as he takes a swipe at Bran. Unhand me, Cycl- he says, but fails to get more out as he chokes on his mutating larynx. Tectonicgoes to his side, muttering. S!~+ShitShitShitShit she says as she tries and fails to get him standing.
He glares daggers at Hex, but doesn't object. perhaps he cannot...
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The dance with Wingblade was going better than the one with Alexandra. Or more accurate, less terribly. Kaoru still felt anxious, but it was more low level. Nothing that made him feel like he needed to leave to go be sick. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that everything he was doing was wrong. He knew the steps were correct. The leading was clearly good enough that she was able to follow. And still he felt like she was silently marking down every error to hold against him. Which was ridiculous since she said she didn't know foxtrot, so how would she even know if he was making a mistake?
He nodded as she suggested that they cut their dance short. He wasn't really sure if it was because she actually thought they were needed or because she just wanted to get away from him, and he didn't really care. Dancing was stupid, and tonight had only reinforced that idea. He wandered more slowly over to the growing crowd of people. For the chatter going on, it seemed the statue had gotten sick. Which made absolutely no sense, but more importantly meant that there was absolutely nothing he could do. Which he had suspected. They were in a room literally filled with actual heroes. Him trying to get involved would be just another waiter in an overly full kitchen of Gordon Ramseys.
Instead of arrogantly pushing forward to the center to "help," he stuck to the outskirts, attention faced away from "Odysseus." He didn't know what was up, but if this weren't an accident, it might be a distraction. Which meant he should keep his attention away from where eyes were naturally drawn to and look out for anything suspicious. Or at least keep a lookout for any of the doctors he had talked to earlier that night since they would likely be more helpful (though admittedly, at the time he had failed to check if they were medical doctors or simply had advanced degrees). He had actually had a pretty interesting debate with one group of them about if this statue could really be considered "Odysseus" or whether he should be considered a completely different entity entirely. About the only thing they had agreed upon was that none of them had enough information about how exactly he had been animated to tell (was the real Odysseus' soul bound to the statue? Or was the statue simply animated with his memories? Were the memories even complete?). Amusingly, even under several hypotheticals clearing up those conditions, there had been very little agreement. There had also been a few tangent arguments about the nature of identity.
...ok, that had almost certainly been a group of doctors of philosophy rather than medical ones. Maybe he should keep an eye out for the other doctors he had talked to instead.
Alexandra takes shelter in a nearby side room, The great coat serving as a dress. Another glass of champagne disappears mysteriously as she rushes to the room. She starts to put down the coat and begin to examine her dress, when a voice comes from the relative darkness, male and somewhat distracted. Before you begin disrobing, I feel I should make my presence known. Foresight says.
Alexandra jumps a little as she turns to face the dreadfully thin man. he sits in the corner, at a small table. Foresight. it's been a while. She says Been meaning-
To talk to me... yes. been expecting you. 20-something percent you tried before the gala, Close to 60 at it. I set aside some time to be in this room. almost 90% chance you took refuge in here, though the odds favoured a shouting match or physical altercation. or the end of a relationship. Sartorial troubles were quite low on that list. He says
Well, I do want to talk, but-
Your friends will not be here for at least 20 minutes, barring a 7.8934% chance that the situation with Odysseus is resolved to my teammate's satisfaction. He says
Wow, those numbers-
Yes, your numbers are less certain. Psychic powers interfere with each other. I'd be fascinated to learn how well my powers can interact with yours less directly. Sometime, you and I should work with Matrix on a set of higher-level psychic evaluations.
Alexandra looked around. I failed every Eval above tier 3.
I'm curious to see how well my predictions improve if you feed me information. He says. He changes tact Abruptly So, Miss Shadow, why does this night end with you leaving the team... nearly 20% of the time?
I don't... F&$~, probably Chloe. She says I snooped on a teammate. one of the people I lied to to get information is here, and she suspects it.
Why do that. Why not ask?
He might have lied to me. It saved him from being hurt reliving it. It seemed easier. she said, sounding progressively less sure.
That last one, I think I believe. You have a pattern, Shadow. Like your father, and his. you do things to provoke, to agitate. It's because your power works best on people who are emotional. You see lies everywhere, so you are pathologically incapable of trust. You resent being lied to and kept out of the loop, likely to an unhealthy degree, because your powers have been inside your mind since before you were born, and all your power wants is information. He says Like my power prevents me from living fully in the present, and drives me to ignore my surroundings.
Alexandra shifted uncomfortably in the seat she had taken across from Foresight. Dozens of barbs come to her, But you'd just prove his point. you're more than your power, act it I'm not...I don't think... It's worked, hasn't it... she says Saved the world nearly 14 times between them.
And your father has been married 3 times twice it lasted less than a year, your grandfather only once, though for a similar length of time. Neither were capable of being on a team. and both were functional alcoholics.
Then why the hell do you-
Because, I think you might be able to do what they couldn't, now that you know. He says And because I think It would be a waste to lose your talents, merely because you made a number of poor decisions inter personally
So what do I-
You cool off first, and sober up. Maybe stay with me a while.
Then what?
We wait for the numbers to go down as we talk it over. He says In the mean time, do you know Shogi? I'd be curious to see if I can play games like that with you
Cassie knelt next to Odysseus, shooting a glance at Tectonic. "Stop that." she says "This'll be easier if he's sitting. If you want to be helpful make sure I have some space. I don't know what's happening, but I'll do my best. And someone get me whatever he's been drinking!"
Cassie turned back to Odysseus, pulling a small spiral notebook and a pencil from her clutch. "OK," she adressed the statue quietly. "So first I need you to calm down. You need to slow your pulse,.. well not that but, try not to let your emotions get too strong. I don't know how whatever it is is spreading through your, um, system, but my guess is its emotionally resonant, so try to stay calm. So, um, your body is marble" she continued, making a small mark in the notebook, "So that's um, well earth obviously, but marble is basically limestone that's been melted. So, Reborn from the σώματα των dead. Κυνηγημένος από τη fire και τη force. There's ζωή there - that's what its acting on,.. it must be. But marble represents, and you're,... you so, χλιδή, αλαζονεία and ὕβρις,... that's gotten you in trouble before. OK,... is that what he's been drinking?" she said, glancing up as a largish man wearing a tuxedo handed her a bottle.
Taking a sniff, she frowned and then poured a little onto her hand so that she could taste it. Um,.. OK I don't know... Wine obviously but there must be something else,.. "Wingblade. Can you help?" she asked, spotting the hero in the crowd of onlookers. There's something in here but my nose isn't good enough..." she asked, passing the bottle over. and hopefully you'll be able to detect the lotus - that might help keep me out of the frame for this!
"Whilst we're figuring that out, I need mineral water - carbonated, and something valuable - gold for preference."
As the items are gathered, Cassie sketches in her notebook and then, once ready, touches her hand to Odysseus' head, beginning to chant softly under her breath.
"Αναγεννημένος στο νερό από τα σώματα των νεκρών.
Κυνηγημένος με φωτιά και δύναμη κάτω από τη γη.
Αποκαλύφθηκε από τη γη από το χέρι του καλλιτέχνη.
Σεβαστό.
Χαμένος.
Θαμμένος.
Ξεχασμένος.
Ανακαλύφθηκε ξανά.
Επιστρέφει στη ζωή από την κόρη και το Κέδρο.
Να είστε ακόμα, να είστε σταθεροί, να παραμείνετε όπως είστε.
Καθαρίστε το δηλητήριο.
Ηρέμησε."
Wingblade had given Odysseus a wide berth the few times they'd been in the same location. She hadn't asked Whippoorwill about him, even though he'd recently joined her team, and generally felt that thanks to Cassie being on her team, the less that they interacted, the better.
So it was with some trepidation that she approached the gathering crowd surrounding the animated statue of the Greek hero in distress. She was more concerned about Bran, though she'd also known him long enough that it looked more like he was experiencing some sort of feedback rather than being under the same attack as Odysseus. She felt that Kaoru had the right idea; better to hang back and be observant in case this was a diversion or some other opportunist felt the need to strike.
When Cassie called for her, she put aside her surprise and pushed forward. She put her nose to work, detecting the various adulterants present in the wine that Odysseus had been drinking (and how a stone statue had been able to do that, she decides to puzzle out later). "Um, I'm not sure what I'm looking for," she says as she inhales deeply at the trio of wines presented to her. "This has been in some sort of wood for a while. Oak, right? Uh, it also's got added sugar, I think? Really high alcohol content, along with something extra. Some sort of botanical, a flower of some kind. Smells like a narcotic."