Panurgic Noir (Inactive)

Game Master Elsine

For dotting purposes

The group is gathered in Amir's living room, snacks on the coffee table, as they wait for the report on their first fight airs

The talking heads appear again, as the public fear piece about some new super-sciece drug which is clearly circulating through highschools and-your-kid-is-probably-taking-it-right-now ends. And in cape news, Salvo's sliders was destroyed in a confrontation between Mad Moxie on the screen flicks shakey footage of Mad Moxie fighting Diode, Columbia, and Tenfold And DaemonKnight this time, footage of his attempt to ransom three captured members of Junior Force. he still walks with a limp from it. Fighting an as of yet unnamed alliance of young supers. Among the combatants were Yu Na Byeol, AKA Twitch, local superheroine and web phenomenon.

Is she a Superhero, jessica? This is her first major villain thwart. the male announcer, Alan Hart, says

A good question, maybe she will be willing to release a statement clarifying. Alongside her was Miss Moxy, a young super who claims to be a version of Mad Moxie drawn into this time by professor proton. Manifest, Our local Supermage, who used his summoning powers to perhaps too much effect.

you can say that again. But even more controversial perhaps is Siphon, a Noted Supervillainess who has claimed to have defected to Heroism. Columbia has expressed her support for Siphon, but warns that she is fully prepared to arrest Siphon if she backslides..

Also at the fight was Amir Ahmed, Pakistani immigrant and silocokinetic, and The Kilt, a Swordsman-super. Rumors of additional combatants are unconfirmed.

No comment yet from Henry Salvo, who was among 21 hospitalised due to injuries sustained during the fighting.

But I bet if we talk to the janitor, he'd have some things to say Alan says, half laughing at his own joke.

Valerie hugs her shoulders tightly while watching the news report. It's out. They're broadcasting it on the g-d news.

When the talking heads move on to other topics, she turns from the television and paces uneasily in the living room. Manifest had let her crash at his place when she realized that she suddenly had nowhere to go. She slept for most of the day, trying to rid herself of Mad Moxie's disturbing memories, and her presence in them. Finally rising and pulling on some ordinary clothes that had been laid out for her, she ventured out into the main room where she caught the broadcast.

Her fingers itch for her phone, but that was gone. Smashed with Moxy's stolen powers before leaving, to make sure she doesn't betray Manifest's home to all the villains who have the capabilities of tracing it. In many ways, it's a relief. No phone, no parents calling to demand her return, to face whatever punishment they've devised. Her pacing becomes more frantic as she thinks about them. About what they're thinking about her. Maybe there's money in being a hero?

She shakes her head away from that thought. Going back to them meant going back to everyone else. And they'd shown that they were done with her. Betrayal was only met with reprisal.

She balls her hands into fists and presses them against her forehead. "What am I going to do?" she voices aloud, not even sure if anyone is home to hear her.

Yu Na had changed out of her superhero get up. The brand name stuff was flashy and stylish, but sometimes a girl just wanted to walk around in sweats and a T-shirt.

"Hey Siphon, you've already got internet fanboys. Wanna do a stream with me later? We can play cops and robbers downtown."

She flashes a smile. Her version of cops and robbers always was a bit of a pr game. Instead of robbing stores, the 'robber' would leave her merchandise for the eager fans following along. The 'cop' would have to track down the criminal as fast as they could. If they were successful, then Twitch doubled the amount of free swag which she doled out after the event.

She slips her phone in her pocket and eases into one of far too plushy lazy-boy. She had it installed last time she was here, an investment in comfort if this was going to be their regular meeting spot. Those ad dollars really added up after a few days.

What's the status on everyone knowing each other's real names?

She spins when Twitch walks in on her. Her eyes narrow at being told about her fanboys. She already knew there was online groups that followed the activities of both heroes and villains. Five minutes perusing the comments had her swearing them off entirely and wanting to scrub her eyes.

"I think I should lay low for a while. I gotta get my head straight. I'm still getting flashes of Mad Moxie's thoughts."

Siphon wouldn't share, but her name isn't entirely secret, either. Anyone with connections probably would know her as Valerie Tepe.

Moxie slaps the top of the television, which wobbles precariously on its stand. "This is totally bogus." she's still in her sequinned outfit, not wanting to undress in a bachelor's home, but she's taken off her heels. She turns away from the TV and paces the room. "She's the one who's a version of me!"

She makes her way around the room, stopping to put a hand on Siphon's elbow. She was a baddie, but it really did look like she was having doubts. Moxie felt for her. "Killin' that phone-eye was a good first step. I'm livin' a little rough at the moment, but if you really gotta stay off the grid, dude, I got you." Truth was, she was homeless, but that had never bothered her before. If anything, there were more resources for a spunky street rat here in the future. Marty McFly could eat her shorts.

She continues around to The Kilt. "D'you think Henry's okay? I shouldn't have gone to see him. That was so stupid..."

Manifest grimaces behind his mask as he watches the report, and winces as the injury count makes itself known. That...that was pretty bad. How much of that was him?

He looks over to Twitch and Siphon as Twitch tries to coax Siphon into a cheap publicity stunt get Siphon to go on stream with her. "Not the time, Twitch. Since you're obviously incapable of If you hadn't noticed, she's got her own problems to deal with right now."

Manifest pushes himself up out of his seat and starts to walk over to Siphon, but he halts mid-stride as Moxie gets to her first. He briefly averts his gaze. ...I'll talk to her later.

He takes up a spot by the wall a little ways from everyone else, and produces a small black book, which he starts writing in.

Siphon and Kilt likely know Siegfried's name, but he wouldn't have gone out of his way to tell anyone else.

Siphon's eyes follow Moxie around the room after she made physical contact, which had surprised her. She clears her throat when she asks about Salvo.

"He should be fine in two or three days. Maybe a little longer since he's old, but I didn't drain him that much. Most of it was for show."

She finds a table to lean against, noticing the glances her way. Might as well get it out of the way now. Put it out in the open. If they kick me out, they kick me out.

Moxie turns back to Siphon and breaths a relieved sigh. "At least there's that." She notices Manifest fidgeting in the corner, and continues. "Stuff can be replaced, wounds can heal. We did a killer job, y'know, keepin' dudes outa' body bags. Sometimes that's all we got... If this is anyone's fault it's mine."

Shawn chuckled. "You hear that brat?" he shot at Twitch, "They argue about whether or not you're a hero, but me? Me they call a 'swordsman-super!'" He scarfed down another handful of chips before continuing. "I should make that an official sub-title for me. 'The Kilt, Swordsman Super!' Or...nah, not enough punch..."

He grunted as he adjusted to look at Moxie. He hadn't told anyone after the fight, but DaemoKnight had nailed him hard in the back. Nothing serious, but it was still tender and stiff. Least nobody had noticed(?). "I'd've been surprised if you hadn't gone to see him Mox. If you want to get to the bottom of...whatever it is you've got going on, he's step 1 no doubt."

Shawn rolled his eyes at Moxie. "No it's Mime. Er, uh, it's her's, the Mime's. She was the one who got out of control."

You all definetly know Kilt's real identity. He answers honestly to anybody who asks about that, but he doesn't openly proclaim it. Also, fair warning, he has nicknames for all of you of varying levels of niceness. (Sorry Twitch.)

Okay, these nickmnames I've gotta hear.

Miss Moxie is "Mox" or "Mn'M", Twitch is "Brat", Manifest is "Mr. Wizard"/Siegfried is "Sig" or "Siggy", Siphon doesnt have one yet (he's still mulling it over), and Amir is "Duster-Buster". He's got nicknames for a few people outside the team as well. His dad he calls "Ms. McGregor" jokingly, and he refers to Mad Moxie as "the Mime".

Manifest's eyes lift from his writing to give Shawn a pointed look, before he stashes the black book away again and slowly turns his gaze to Moxie and Siphon. "There's no point playing the blame game though that's rich from me - what happened, happened. People were injured, things were lost, lives were affected. It happened, and assigning blame doesn't change that. Now we deal with it."

His gaze shifts slightly to focus on Siphon. She's been blatantly nervous the whole time, and it seemed like it was only getting worse.
Maybe I shouldn't wait.

He looks away for a moment. This...felt awkward. "...Siphon? Mind if I, ah...talk to you alone for a moment?" The words don't come out, and he trails off, shifting awkwardly. "...Nevermind. It's nothing." I'd probably just make the problem worse if I asked that.

Siphon blinks at the fact that Moxie and Shawn just let it slide when she admitted to putting Salvo in the hospital. She had expected lectures and recriminations. Isn't that what heroes do?

Then Manifest gets her attention. Ah, here it comes. But he backs down, making her less guarded and more curious. "No, what is it?" She steps closer and leans in.

Keep your kilt on," Twitch responds dismissively. "but if your 'that' into feeding your ego, I can show you the poll I've got running on my channel. Everyone's voting for their favorite on the team, myself excluded for sake of playing fair."
And as you could guess from most internet chats, its essentially turned into a 'Who do you think it the hottest' contest. Kilt is not in first, but he does have some votes.

Her eyes dance from Manifest to Siphon, a small smile growing hidden behind her smartphone. Drama in the group dynamic was great for views, but perhaps she shouldn't push it too far. Not yet.

She shudders at the thought of going off-grid when Moxie mentions it.

Manifest finds himself feeling even more awkward as Siphon leans in, and it shows. She's much closer than he's used to people being, he's not used to dealing with people in general, it's hard not to notice she's fairly pretty when she's this close and he's never really interacted with pretty girls G&&&~!MIT BRAIN THIS IS HARD ENOUGH.

"...I just wanted to talk to you privately. It's not hard to tell you're worrying about a lot of stuff, and having everyone around probably isn't helping." His words come out low and mostly mumbled, and he finds himself glad that his mask hides the blatantly stupid expression he probably has on his face.
Is he blushing? He's probably blushing.

Shawn whips around in his seat to face Twitch, sending the handful of chips he was about to down flying. "Popularity poll?" he asks with a calm that hides his sudden excitement (and sudden pain from moving so fast). "Since when? Who's winning? If it's Duster-Buster I'm gonna lose it."

Moxie was born the same year as Eminem. His real name is Marshal Mathers. He started rapping the year after she time-warped, and his first single dropped in '96.

Moxie rubs her neck responding to the Kilt, "Yeah, that's totally what I was there for, but now, after that coked-out clown totaled his burger joint? It took me months to work up the courage this time. I dunno how I'm gonna look'im in the eye now..." They could deny it all they wanted, but Mad Moxie was her... or will have been? That's what Professor Proton seemed to think. This was definitely the future, though. The bogus, gnarly future.

When Manifest speaks up, Moxie listens closely, and nods appreciatively. "I should, like, make some money, or something. Try to make it up to gramps. I just can't, like, drop in on him empty-handed."

Curiosity piqued, Moxie sidles over to Twitch. "What's the interweb say about me?"

Twitch finishes showing The Kilt that he's second to last, as Amir is actually the one in last. People commenting that the Kilt is funny and Amir seems kinda boring. First place is actually a two way tie between Siphon and Manifest. Power and Danger really sell after all.

Afterwards, she does a bit of searching for Moxie's question and scrolls through the results.

"People are kinda split. Most think you're her kid or something. Other's are guessing clone, and about twenty percent actually believe your time travelling. And if you need some money, I can give you a loan. Least I could do after that great battle footage. "

Her brow furrows over Manifest's discomfort, and she spares a look over her shoulder at the others crowded around Twitch's feed.

She holds her hand up and employs a remnant of Mad Moxie's power still lingering with her, and the air between the others and Manifest and her solidifies. The sound of their chatter muffles, and then grows completely silent.

Siphon turns and leans up against the solid air barrier casually, folding her arms. "Better?" she asks.

is Siphon comforting or supporting Manifest?

Conditions: None so far

Amir quietly steps out of his bedroom, his cellphone at his ear. He's just finishing up a phone call with Eric.

"... Mhm. Yeah. I'm still pretty sore from the whole thing, it's probably best if I don't come in tonight... Ok. Alright. Thank you for understanding. See you at work tomorrow."

The young "silokinetic"–as the news called him–had gotten tossed around a bit during The Team's earlier fight. He wasn't hurt, but Amir was still tired and sore, and not at all looking forward to going into work tonight. Thankfully, Eric had already saw the fight on the news, and was very understanding about Amir not wanting to come in. Now all he had to do was brace himself for the oncoming tide of calls and texts from family, all asking if he's alright.

With any luck, maybe Amir would be able to relax between then and now.

Sliding into the kitchen, he turns to survey the apartment. The entire team is here. Siphon and Manifest were talking to each other, which he did his best to ignore, feeling a sudden twinge of jealousy. On the other side of the room, 'The Kilt', Moxie, and Twitch huddled around each other and the TV. Speaking of Twitch, it had been a while since Amir had checked on the chat.

Pulling up his phone, Amir logs on. The stream had ended quite some time ago, but maybe there were a couple people still around.

NeverEndingLove has entered the chat.
NeverEndingLove: Hey everyone.

Several people enthusiastically greet 'NeverEndingLove', a regular name on the chat. No one but Twitch herself knew that it was actually Amir.

NeverEndingLove: I guess I missed the stream :( Who's the Amir guy? I've never heard of him.

is Siphon comforting or supporting Manifest?

No, I'm just making it so we can talk privately, which is what he seemed to want.

I have a feeling that's not the last time we'll hear that exchange... is Siphon
maybe Provoking Manifest to talk?

Provoke me to talk? The way I write, the problem is shutting up.

Manifest blinks, and seems to relax more as the chatter fades and Siphon gives him that precious bit of needed space. He hadn't even realised the noise was bothering him. "That...that works. Didn't realise that was an option." It's a moment before he realises he hasn't answered, and he visibly jolts at the realisation. "ACK! Yes, yes that's better. Aghhh...sorry. Just...distracted."
Please don't ask what by.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and drops his hood. The dark brown strands of his hair run down into his robes, a little past the point where you could see their ends. Habit has him reaching for his mask, but he stops that short when he remembers the presence of everyone else. He looks back at Siphon, and tries to push all earlier thoughts out of his head.

"You're dealing with a lot of stuff right now, right? New life, new problems, old problems, things I can't even imagine right now. Whatever's bothering you at the moment, it's bad, and it doesn't seem like it's getting better."

"I'm not trying to get you to talk about all of that. -Not that I wouldn't want to listen to you! It'd just be...draining for both of us right now." He has a quiet little chuckle at that, before face(mask?)-palming. "I can't believe I said that...not the point. You seemed uncomfortable, I just wanted to ask if there's anything I could do right now, anything you want to get off your chest immediately - nobody listening who might get hurt feelings, and especially no Twitch using this as a stunt for views."

His head tilts away a little, his eyes flicking about before settling back on Siphon. "Do you want to leave? You really did seem uncomfortable with everyone. I mean...you wouldn't be the only one, but I doubt it's for the same reason." He pauses. "Somewhere you want to go? Just want some time alone? There's more than enough books about if you feel like reading in your room...do you like reading?...Have you ever...? -s#**, what am I saying? Shouldn't ask that. I never talk this much."

He shakes his head. "Don't mind my assumptions and rambling. I'm just trying to extend a hand, and doing a poor job of it. Felt like I should at least try to be considerate towards you, even if I'm pretty sure I'm making a mess of it right now."

As Twitch scrolls through the stream chat, Shawn notices Manifest and Siphon sequestering themselves out of the corner of his eye. 'Oh boy.' he thinks morosely. 'C'mon Sig, you're smarter than trying to date her. Even ignoring the bramble patch of history, do you even remember what she can do? Brings "bad touch" to a whole new level...'

His attention returns to the phone as he notices a comment fly by. "Wha-?! IRISH?! Who the hell said I was IRISH?! Scroll back, scroll back! What do I gotta paint the colors and a unicorn on my chest to get it across?! I said scroll back! I need a name to go hunt down and educate!"

Siphon's dark eyes steadily watch Manifest stammer and stutter around an awkward attempt at something like an offer of friendship. He appeared earnest in his desire to help, which was foreign to her. Then he bounced from topic to topic, like offering her an ear if she wanted to vent, but then in his next breath he was asking if she needed time alone. It was rather dizzying.

When he finally finishes his stream of consciousness ramblings, she bites her lip, entirely unsure of how to respond. Is this how heroes talk to each other? Siphon's arms drop to her sides, placing one hand on her hip as she feels rather self-conscious herself as he waits for her response. Finally, she throws out an entirely inadequate, "Well, thank you."

She immediately recognizes that the words feel wrong, coming from her. Tapping her foot and looking away from him, she adds, "I don't really know what I need. It's no big deal, really. I've only lost, well, everything." She tries to sound flippant, to act like it's no big deal. She hopes that's how it sounded.

Siphon smiles while she reaches up and twists her dark, straight hair, pulling it over her shoulder. "Maybe I could start with getting my clothes back. Do you know any teleporters? No offense to whoever loaned them, but yoga pants are really tacky. I'd really like to get my Balmain jeans back."

Okay, making someone more comfortable so that they will open up is almost the word for word definition of C&S. maybe I'm misinterpreting your meaning.

The news grabs your attention again. Now, we go live to a 29 news exclusive interview with the captain of Junior-Force, to get His take on this fight

The news flickers over to the interview room of the JF Headquarters. in one chair is they Justice force correspondent Michelle Caldiene, , opposite her, in an armoured orange and yellow costume, with a mask that disguises his eyes and cheekbones, and gives him the appearance of a lantern jaw. Dante.

Good evening. I would just like to thank you again for giving us an interview this late. Michelle opens with

It's not a problem at all, I'm always happy to talk supers. Dante says, in his usual affable tone.

well, before we get into the meat of this interview, can I ask about your initial view of the fight as a whole.

Well, I would just like to start by saying that the actions of this group, while no doubt well intentioned, are not in any way advisable, and I would strongly discourage anyone from attempting something like it. Mad Moxie and DaemonKnight are extremely dangerous foes, and should be handled by professionals. Dante says, a bit more serious now. Toeing the company line as always.

That said, what do you think of the young heroes? Michelle asks

Honestly...Well, Miss Moxie seems like she's in a bad place, and I'm sad we couldn't convincing her to accept our help, because I have no doubt she is a troubled young woman. In a similar direction is Siphon, An individual I and my team have clashed with a number of times. I trust Columbia's judgement... but she has hospitalized teammates of mine. Flame dances around his shoulders briefly.

Amir seems like an upstanding young man, and I love to see one of Panurgic's adopted sons rise up to defend her, and from what I understand, he comes from a long line of heroes in Pakistan. Twitch... She and I don't see eye to eye on the purpose of herism, that's no secret. I think that she encourages copycats, and one day, someone is going to be i the hospital because they were following her example.

That's a harsh accusation.

Maybe I'm being a little hard on her. Manifest has shown again just how powerful they are, and how dangerous that is. I want to take this opportunity to remind them, and any young cape, that our organization offers instruction, assessment, and mentorship to young heroes, to help them achieve their full potential, and to help minimize collateral damage.

Thank you for that , now onto the recent increase in so-called "street-level villain-

Twitch, watching the chat roll by, decides to comment.

Twitch: Hey guys! Enjoy the show today? Setting up a poll for you guys to chime in on me trying out the hero training crash course Dante is offering. Let's see if he's all talk :P

"Anyone want to run a Dante teen hero training course with me? I'm going to see if I can talk him into doing a crash course to see how his heroics differ from mine.."

On the inside, the side of her that felt heroic was starting to chafe against all the media comments. She couldn't show it of course, but some part of her wanted to stick it to Dante, to show him that you could be heroic and entertaining.

As Dante goes through the members of the impromptu alliance, Shawn stares expectantly with a wide grin at the screen. When the news moves on, his wide grin freezes. "...did he...just...ignore me?" His fists slam down on the table, sending the chip bowl flying. "DID THAT S#!*HEAD JUST IGNORE ME?!"

Shawn's head snaps around at Twitch's question. "Hell yes! I gonna punch his pilot light out, then ace his corporate stamped obstacle course and rub it so hard in his face his S+*@-STAINED NOSE GETS SANDPAPPERED OFF!"

I'm so glad this is play-by-post. I do NOT have the inclination, stomach, or balls to say (out loud) half the stuff Shawn is gonna say in this game. O3o

@Elsine, methinks I'm going to mark Angry, if that's okay with you. Think it fits Kilt's reaction to this (lack of) news about him. Also, can the folks on Twitch's stream hear us right now? Because it seems like RavenlordNeato (*"I understood that reference" meme here*) could hear Kilt's rant there. Also also, please tell me that people thinking Kilt is Irish is going to continue, because up until doing research for him I had the exact same IRL problem distinguishing the two and the fact that the issue made its way into the game is freaking hilarious to me. XD

"Pinko. Commie. Buttnugget." Moxie pinches the air in front of the TV to shrink Dante's head.

"Now, he's on a good guy team, dude. We can't just go punching good guys. We've gotta find evidence that they're actually bad guys, then we punch them."

Manifest winces at her reply, and starts to scratch at the back of his head when she questions about teleporters. "Technically, I can pull that off, but...it has its limits. Ariel's range is limited unless I've been wherever I want to go before, and I'm pretty sure I've never visited your old place. As it is, I've never tried having him take multiple people at once whenever I've gotten his help with that...I'm going to be treading unknown ground if I try it. If you're not happy with that, that's fine, but I don't think I know anyone else who's teleport-capable either."

"For that matter...you sure your stuff's going to be there? Probably have to go soon to ensure better odds of that...I wouldn't be surprised if they were waiting for you, as well. That could get bad, fast."

Behind his mask, Manifest bites his lip. "I'm just trying to think this through. I don't expect it to be easy. But...doesn't stop us trying, right?" Manifest offers a hand. "If this is what you need, I'm up for it. I'll just have to try not to make too much of a mess, hey?" He lets out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, his eyes occasionally flicking down to his feet and never quite being able to meet Siphon's.

Retroactive C&S (mundane): 2d6 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11
Adding Team

"I was just going to--" take their powers and go myself, she begins, but immediately cuts herself off before finishing that statement. These heroes probably wouldn't approve of her looking at their powers as practically hers to borrow as needed.

She rubs her face as her stomach twists. This isn't going to work.

Pulling her hands away from her eyes to look at Manifest, she considers how he was willing to risk going to get her stuff despite the obvious danger. "We shouldn't try it. You're probably right about them waiting for me. It's just stuff."

Looking away, she mutters under her breath, "High fashion, expensive, designer stuff."

Putting on a brave face, she smiles. "Well, this gives me a chance to go shopping. There's these Louis Vuitton wedges I was thinking about ...except my credit cards were in my Ferrari."

Siphon's brave facade cracks. Her mouth trembles slightly and she sniffs before breaking eye contact. "Thank you for offering to get my stuff," she says to the ground.

The barrier fades and the sounds from the rest of the room come rushing in. Siphon turns when she catches the interview with Dante beginning on the news broadcast. She folds her arms and scowls when the super starts admonishing them, though she snorts with amusement when he mentioned that she had put several of them in the hospital.

When the others begin talking about wanting to put the other junior super team in their place, she listens with interest but doesn't offer any suggestions. If they challenge them, I should sit that out, or they'll say I'm a bad influence."

Pinko?

Twitch, are you livestreaming your teams reaction?

Yeah, the kilt being mistaken for Irish is gonna be a thing, at least for a while. and yeah, most of the usernames are Video game references. go for marking angry

Manifest's hand falls to his side, and his expression twists into a grimace. This...this was no good. She was still...
Steeling himself and trying to ignore his anxieties about what he was about to do, Manifest puts a hand on Siphon's shoulder and removes his mask.

Put it back on, everyone's there! Stop it! Behind the mask is a face not strongly masculine or feminine, dark circles around the eyes and suggestive of years of poor sleep, fixed in a tired, firm expression as Manifest looks Siphon firmly in the eye. "Don't act like it's 'just stuff'. Because it's not, is it? It's more than that, even if other people wouldn't understand why. And it's the same for most people, when it happens to them."

His face twists as the need to cover up swells, and he puts his mask back on. He still manages to hold his gaze a little longer, though. "It's your call. If you just need stuff of your own, I'm sure Sis will be happy to go shopping with you to sort that out. Who knows, maybe you can coax something out of Twitch. But if there's anything you really can't replace? At least think about it before you give it up." His gaze finally breaks off. "And tell me, alright? Sis'd kill me if you just went off on us."

Marking Potential.

The sound of talking and the interview reach his ears, and he finds himself wondering just how much of that everyone heard. The tension returns in full force as he takes his hand off of Siphon and shrinks back again, listening to the interview as it plays out. ...you can offer what you like, but it doesn't mean you have what anyone needs. Or that you'll give it to them, for that matter. You're pushing your brand, and not even honestly like Twitch. You're not even helping people, Dante. Hell of a lot you're good for.

Feeling the need to get out there, Manifest puts his hood back up and starts heading out. "I'm going to do my rounds. See what I can help people with. Try not to get into a war with Dante after I leave." He continues walking, and then pauses as he's about to open the door. "You remember where you're going, Siphon?"

Siphon is again surprised by the physical contact. She turns her head and studies Manifest's face, his tired, haggard eyes not at all what she had expected. He must really take his nighttime patrols seriously.

Manifest keeps talking about her stuff, reminding her of the closets full of the best clothes, awesome shoes, her designer jackets, her sweet little sports car, all bought for her because she made money doing bad things for bad people. He continues to try to cheer her up and show sympathy, but she'd rather try to forget.

Her skin tingles under his hand. She's tempted to give him a jolt to warn him that she was still bad, but restrains herself. Instead, she lowers her voice and stares at him steadily with her smoky eyes. "Everything I had was given to me because I did good work. Nothing was given to me because they cared. It's stuff."

========

When Manifest leaves to patrol, she gives him a slight wave and a tight smile. "I'm not going anywhere," she answers.

Manifest swallows, unable to hold an even gaze. "Nevermind that, then...I assumed, the way you were acting. Shouldn't have done that. I'll...I'll be quiet next time."
He stares downward, a deep pit in his stomach.

======

"Not what I..." He sighs. "Once I'm done with patrols, it'll be time for me to head back home. Didn't think you were staying here or anything, so I just wanted to be sure you knew the way back home."
The hesitation hits him hard. "...are you staying with me and Sis again?...did you even want to? Have other plans? Plan on staying anywhere at all?...forget it. Nevermind, sorry to bother you. Be seeing you. Hopefully."
He starts leaving.

At least the devil thinks I'm hot...

Giving the Kilt a gentle punch on the shoulder. Shoulder like a bar of steel, dang, dude! Moxie bounces over to Siphon. "He botherin' you?" Moxie stands a half-step too close, and watches Manifest walk out. "Dude's like a none pizza with left beef: inscrutable."

a none pizza with left beef

IS THIS EVEN ENGLISH

[That] is Moxie's favorite modern reference, because it reminds her of "where's the beef".

Siphon nods, understanding now. "Oh, then, yeah. I'll see you back at your place then. Shopping with sis sounds fun."

When he goes and Moxie hops next to her, she can't help but stare at the young face. Pulled somehow from the eighties, she remembered getting out of the way once Prof. Proton did his thing. The blast was so strange, but thankfully only one of her stolen duplicates was near the strange energy. She still had deja vu for the next three weeks after that fight. Afterward, she had wondered about why the prof. had blasted Mad Moxie to begin with, but after touching her last night, she knew. Mad Moxie had two sets of memories -- one good, in which she was a hero, and one bad, which drove her insane.

She pulls her eyes away from the eighties child, not really getting her strange turn of phrase. She folds her arms and tosses her hair with a shake of her head. "If he was bothering me, I'd dissuade him."

She tries to change the subject to something lighter. "So, how do you like the future? Sorry about the flying cars."

"Right, totally!" Moxie's laugh bounces just like she does. "Yeah, I would'a thought there'd be more new stuff, but Lord of the Rings came out a bit ago, a new Alien movie just came out, a new Star Wars around the corner... it's enough to maybe believe them when they say it's all made up. -but then I see those new phones, and they've got bright color screens, and navigation via American satellites, and instant messaging... It's a trip, y'know?" Moxie rubs her neck.

"Do I need to get one? A phone. I'm just maybe a little... behind, and it's a little scary--to me--putting all that personal information in one place and sending it out into the air- and the cameras, on both sides! Like, a girl can't get enough privacy as it is..." Another, more nervous laugh. "It's just, I know you smashed yours up, and I want to make sure it's not, like, a bad idea for supers to have them." She looks toward Twitch.
Looking to trigger "What's this?"

Conditions: None. Well, to be honest, just a bit jealous.

Amir had done his best to ignore Manifest and Siphon, but he can't help but lift his gaze off his phone and watch them. He couldn't hear them, presumably because the TV was too loud, but that didn't matter, just keeping an eye on them was enough to tell what was going on. Their body language and actions spoke volumes.

Not that Amir was an expert on such things. It was just obvious to him that Manifest had made some kind of move on Siphon. What he couldn't tell though, was her reaction. Did she reject him? Did she like him?

"Hey, Manifest! Are you heading out?"

He calls out after Manifest as he heads towards the door. Amir would play the role of a nicey-nice good host for now. It'd help him learn more about this potential rival of his. Then he could decide whether he was a threat.

"Take one of these for the road," says Amir, slipping his phone into his pocket as he stops by the fridge to fetch Manifest a cold water bottle. "Let me walk you out." He thrusts the bottle into Manifest's hands, before ushering him outside and closing the door behind them.

Alone; out of earshot of the others. Amir's mind races for something he can pounce on.

"So, uh, good work today!", starts Amir. "Shame about the building though. I imagine with powers like yours it's hard to keep things under control. You must worry about causing too much damage... Or accidentally hurting someone."

Marking Doom Track (0/5 -> 1/5) to use Bolstered, and with it, the Adult Move 'Empathize'.
Empathize (+ Mundane): 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (2, 5) + 0 = 7
7-9 is a Hit. @Manifest: Reveal a vulnerability (triggering your Team Move) or mark a Condition.

What is Amir doing, why am I being manhandled, NO I SEE THAT HAND BY HIS FOOT NOT NOW URAMIDT
Manifest pointedly focuses on making sure the waiting demon knows that no, Amir does not need his foot torn off. He looks down at the water bottle in hand, and overall, finds himself close to his threshold.
And then Amir starts talking.
Yep. This is beyond what he can cope with right now.

The words just tumble out of his mouth, one after another, eyes wild and tone panicked. "Look, Amir, no idea what this is about, but this is a bad time and I have places to be, I get enough people going on about how powerful I am and all the problems with that and how awful it must be to deal with and seriously this is not what I need I hear it too much YOUR'RE FREAKING ME THE F@+& OUT AMIR SERIOUSLY WHAT THE F~~* sorry sorry so sorry AMIR but I REALLY NEED TO GET ON BUSINESS RIGHT NOW."

Marking Afraid. He's seriously out of his comfort zone.

Rapidly, he gestures in the air and tries to focus, pulling on everything he has to GET HIM OUT OF THIS F@$@ING CONVERSATION.

Burn: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (1, 2) + 1 = 4
Oh, for...Guilty, Hopeless, Insecure.

It only gets worse as he thinks about what he's about to do, what's happened already, and URAMIDT I SAID DON'T MAIM HIM
Just a little more, just a little- oh thank god he's here now why did he take so long "Ariel! Patrol start! NOW!"
Feathery wings envelop Manifest after his unnecessarily loud shout as what is blatantly an angel materialises behind him, followed by them both disappearing in a whirl of feathers to the start of his standard patrol route, leaving Amir alone and covered in a scattering of fading feathers.

That was Move, the 2 Burn version. Easy escape from awkward conversations.
4 conditions and a flubbed roll already. At least I'll have cleared Afraid by next scene?

Unaware of whatever's happening outside, Siphon blinks in surprise at Moxie. "You haven't got a phone yet? How do you even--?" function?

"You should definitely get something, since I don't think this is one of those teams with high-tech ear pieces. Or psychic links. But you can start slow. Maybe a flip phone? It'll at least let you call someone if you need help. There's not many pay phones anymore."

Moxie takes another half-step forward when Amir pushes past.

"You know anything about tall dark and wealthy? We worked well together tonight, but I haven't, like, gotten to talk to him." Moxie's tone sours, for once. She really doesn't like being ignored, but she can't just walk up to him. She would say something... Wrong, and she didn't want to be that kind of history lesson. We are the world. We are the children. We are the ones who make a brighter day, so lets start giving!

Siphon shrugs as she wonders about their current host. "Amir? Mr. 'I'm too good for a code name?' Not sure. He's been quiet towards me; probably the whole villain thing. I'm sure it takes some getting used to."

As the room moves on from the news, Shawn sits on the stool in front of the TV and fumes. 'I can't believe this! I idolized Dante before he joined the JF, now he's been turned into a party line spokesman who has the stones to ignore me!' He registers a soft tap on the shoulder. 'Huh? Oh, guess we're starting to head out. No way in hell I'm sleeping now, and I'm still stiff from the shoulders down, so no patrolling. Hm...'

Shawn reaches under the stool and pulls up his "toolbox," one of his old guitar cases he modifed to carry his claymore and other superhero gear. "I'm headin' to the gym. Gonna tape a pic of Fire Butt to a dummy and punch it till I feel better. You're all welcome to join me..." He shoots a sideways glance at Twitch. "...In case you want to actually put some effort in..." He shifts his gaze back to Moxie. "We'll get some gnocchi from Wanda's after. My treat?"

Manifest

Your patrol opens on a sour note. a few minutes in, in the park, you come across three youths accosting a young man (all of them in their late teens). The lonemale has the shadowy effect of a photokinetic charging, and the space between her fingers arcs with electricity.

Leave me alone! The lone male says, taking a step back.

Or what, the eldest of the three assailants(?) says as she steps back into the boy's personal space, fist balled.

I don't want to hurt you. Why won't you just leave!? He asks. you taste copper in the air

Your buddy jumped a few of us yesterday, put Jake in the hospital.

Amir

a text pops up on your phone.

You leveled a building?
-Rana

Moxie is biting her lip, looking from Twitch to Siphon, trying not to be the first to jump at a free meal.