Andromeda nods, feeling that Indarius has heard her.
"It's not bark, but the texture is different. Presumably some of my flesh is now cellulose or something similar; I am experiencing diminished flexibility. The mental impacts seem diminished, either by a lack of proximity to Eliana, or the degradation of intoxicants in my system. Much of my movement is buttressed by my telekinesis though, so the full extent is somewhat unclear; I am ready to go back to normal and not feel strange, even though I think my skin looks... pretty."
Quickly she adds, "Even within a social environment where my skin was expected to be commented on, however, this did not seem to be a broadly held opinion, so it may also be one of the mental impacts."
|
Andromeda nods, feeling that Indarius has heard her.
"It's not bark, but the texture is different. Presumably some of my flesh is now cellulose or something similar; I am experiencing diminished flexibility. The mental impacts seem diminished, either by a lack of proximity to Eliana, or the degradation of intoxicants in my system. Much of my movement is buttressed by my telekinesis though, so the full extent is somewhat unclear; I am ready to go back to normal and not feel strange, even though I think my skin looks... pretty."
Quickly she adds, "Even within a social environment where my skin was expected to be commented on, however, this did not seem to be a broadly held opinion, so it may also be one of the mental impacts."
Indy nods along with that, "I can try siphoning the residual magic out of you later, if you want. Shouldn't be too hard Tim's potions were very tame. Had to give it a boost to even get an effect out of mine. But yeah not being judged by my appearance the other night was cool... awesome even. And it is an.. odd but surprisingly good look."
He doesn't know if it'd be good to actually comment on Eliana's potential ability to mitigate inhibitions since even he wasn't fully aware of what she could be capable of.
"The mental stuff is probably the alcohol. Seems my body processes it pretty fast. Though I could really go for terrorizing the local farmers by stealing a cow or sheep." He laughs indicating he's joking about stealing and eating any livestock.
Sam's eyes track from Jessie to Archie, and back again, as if she is mapping something about them. "I did. The experience provided petabytes of data that is being labeled and categorized." there is a low throb of pleasure hidden under the flatness of her tone. Subtle but present.
Sam does love her data.
Once her tacos are properly dissembled, she eats the shells with a nice crunch. When Archie asks about the use of a word, she scrunches a little bit, searching through his sentence to find which word he was referring to "I see no aberration in the sentence you used." she admits, not finding a word she thinks one would get wrong enough to need to ask.
Jessie looks up from her plate as Archie slides his half-eaten taco in her direction. After a moment's hesitation, she finishes it off. Then, after some deliberation, she consumes another taco. "Well, I've never eaten like this without feeling all bloated and guilty afterwards. So, um, thanks. This has been kind of neat."
Chloe sees Beebee strutting down the hallway of Halcyon Preparatory Academy, bushy tail proudly displayed to the amazement of the few students not zeroed into their phones. Her bestie gives her a little wave as they near each other. She spins around, showing off her temporary appendage sticking out of an old skirt of hers tailored to allow for the tail.
"Whatdya think?" Beebee asks, acting like it's Chloe's first time seeing it. "Super cute, isn't it?"
She starts walking with Chloe towards the cafeteria for lunch. "I can't wait to tell you what you missed. Johnny got me home, but after, like, flying me around the city!" Her eyes sparkle in excitement and her smile looks like it would hurt her face being so wide.
"...I'm jealous. I spent my evening with dad. It was not pleasant." Chloe is doing her best not to elaborate too much. She's wearing her Kenpachi T-shirt and loose khakis today. If one were observant enough, they could spot a familiar crow watching them from outside.
"...I was worried but also got emotionally blown away because dad played me the last voicemail my mom sent him. Right before what happened to her." She blurts a bit.
Beebee's cheerful demeanor does a sudden shift to sympathetic. "Oh! Oh, no! Come here," she says and pulls Chloe into a tight and supportive hug.
She instinctively breaks the hug just before it becomes too much and causes real tears to flow. Grabbing her hand, she leads Chloe to their favorite spot and sits her down. "I'll get your food, okay? Unless you brought it? Probably not. Wait here."
In short order, Beebee returns with two trays. "Truth potion?" she guesses, keeping her voice low.
"I don't feel like lying, is all. I'm worried you'll end up hurt again if you get involved too much with super guys like Johnny, but I respect you to make your own decisions. Just make sure I know where you might be going with him so that I can come help if you guys are ambushed by cultists or assassins or the like."
She picks at her food, not as hungry as she should have been. "...I'm planning to rescue my mom."
Beebee nods soberly when Chloe talks about worrying about her. "Okay, yeah. But... you know it runs both ways, right? I worry about you, too! When you talk about getting stabbed, then rewinding time to undo it? It freaks me out! Like, what if there are a bunch of alternate timelines out there with me crying over your body? But I support you! I love you, girl. Like it or not, I'm in the superhero world by being your friend." She tries to lighten the mood with a smile. "Oh, I'll fill you in about Johnny, don't worry."
When Chloe says she's planning on rescuing her mom, Beebee at first looks confused, then goes pale. "But she-- Oh. You mean, time... stuff? Couldn't that, like, break the universe or something? "
"Not if it's a closed loop. Like how I was able to be at the party and at work at the same time." Chloe seems a little manic as she lays out her plan. "It'll be like...like she skipped a few years. I'm not planning to go back, stop what happened, then skip back. Too many variables. But pulling her out and bringing her to now? That has precedent. Indarius' old teammate got brought here from another century."
Chloe smiles. "I can save her. I know exactly the time. June 24th, 4:32pm. We'll be back together again."
Beebee covers her mouth with her hands. She measures her breathing for a moment, then puts her hands in her lap. "Okay, yeah. Wow, that's amazing. Just, umm, I gotta ask. You going just for her, or are you going to try to save the other--"
"Ms. Badawi?" Dean Alameda interrupts, looming over the table. "Can I see you in the office, please?" One of the resource officers is a couple paces away, near the exit. Chloe looks around and sees a lot of students staring.
Beebee glances around as well and would have turned pale if her skin wasn't already a bit washed out from Chloe's plans. Then she puts on a bright smile. "Hey, Dean! Is there a problem?" Her tail fluffs out and flicks back and forth.
He swallows once as his eyes follow the tail's movement. "Just come with us, please."
"Oh, it's good you're here, Dean Alameda," Chloe says even as her stomach churns as she immediately pushes into damage control. She feels sick as she forces herself to spin.
"Apparently, someone gave her some kind of potion that caused a tail to grow! She had no idea what would happen. But it's apparently temporary, so thankfully she should be code compliant in a day or two," Chloe says, weaving truth as fine as spun glass. "I should have told her to visit your office first to let you know the situation. It's not like she has superpowers, just a tail."
Beebee rocks back as Chloe tries to explain away her tail as no big deal. Dean Alameda scrunches his face in a suspicious manner, looking back and forth between the two girls."Someone? Who? If someone is distributing mutagenic compounds to students--"
"--No!" Beebee interrupts. "You weren't there, Chloe! And I lied to you about the potion so you wouldn't worry!" She huffs, rising from her seat, tail puffed out and twitching. "I... was bitten by a genetically modified fox-squirrel!"
"I...can I have a minute with my friend please?" Chloe asks, clearly alarmed with where this is going as she looks to her friend in confusion. She's wondering why she's acting this way when it might get her kicked out of school!
The school resource officer steps forward as the scene draws more attention. Dean Alameda puts a hand out to keep Chloe back. "Not a good idea. Ms. Badawi? Don't make a scene."
Beebee gives Chloe a wink as she steps away from the table. "I wasn't the one getting me in the middle of lunch period," she snarks. Then she holds her hands up. "I'm going! Fine! Me and my poofy tail powers."
"Yeah, you've got incredible soft fur powers! And mildly improved balance powers! And cut a hole in all of your pants for room powers!" Chloe says to egg on the spectacle and silliness of the whole thing. Wondering why her best friend was taking a stand this way but supporting her in the best way she could.
"Very funny, Ms. Parker," Dean Alameda says, getting impatient. He turns back to Beebee. "Your parents are waiting in my office. Let's go."
That revelation kills Beebee's defiance. She draws in a slow breath, then nods. "It'll be all right, Chloe," she says then follows the dean and police officer out of the cafeteria.
How did her parents find out so soon?!
Chloe's not one to abandon her best friend when she can do something about it. The dean's office wasn't impossible to sneak up on and listen in to what was going on inside. She could avoid getting caught with judicial use of her powers. Though she didn't think there was much she could do to actually interfere...
Chloe gets into eavesdropping position and catches the end of Beebee's parents' freak-out over the tail.
"... doesn't hurt at all! I'm fine! It's cute, isn't it? Besides, this is Halcyon City! Everyone's kid is supposed to grow tentacles or wings or something at some point!" Chloe hears Beebee trying to calm her parents down. Ms. Badawi replies in a string of Bhojpuri that she can't follow.
"If I may, Mrs. Badawi, the school has to call this in," Dean Alameda says. "This isn't a joke, and it's not 'cute.' The school board of directors has prohibited all enhanced students from attendance."
Mrs. Badawi wails as if Beebee had been given a terminal diagnosis. "I'm not enhanced!" Beebee shouts. "And it's going to wear off! I promise!"
"We'll see about that. In the meantime, how did this happen? Your friend said it was a potion you took. But your story is that you were bitten by a mutant fox? Do you expect us to believe that?"
"Okay, seriously. After I was shot, I received a blood transfusion from a Kitsune. Or... maybe I'm possessed by a ghost squirrel? It could be I'm a long-lost member of an alien fox species! Oh, wait! I got it! Pashupati blessed me with an animal tail!"
"Beti! Stop it, please!" Beebee's father pleads. "Tell us! How did this happen?"
"It doesn't matter!" she shouts. "It doesn't matter, and you know why? Because having a tail doesn't change who I am, and it shouldn't get me kicked out of school! If I was paralyzed, there'd be no way they'd be allowed to pull this shit!"
"Miss Badawi! That's enough!" The dean cuts her off. "I am sorry, but you're going to have to take your daughter home. She's being disruptive to say the least. If what's happened to her wears off, we'll be happy to have her return to class."
"Who says I want to come back?" Beebee spits. "I could always go to Daedalus."
Chloe listens and feels worry for what her parents were likely to do when they brought her home. It was likely her phone would be taken away from her if it hadn't already. She still sent her a text to try and give some moral support.
Chloe: Hope you get this today and not whenever your parents unground you
Chloe: Let me know if I can help with anything
Chloe: Even if it's just putting in a good word
The Badawis leave Halcyon Prep, the audience of students being very careful to not obviously gawk and mostly failing. Beebee's mother tries to throw a coat over her shoulders to disguise the tail but it keeps sticking out defiantly.
Several minutes after they're out of view, Chloe gets a text back.
Beebee: I'll be fine. Thx
After a few more minutes, she texts again.
Beebee: Last text for a while since phone's going byebye. I'll get it back for important school stuff, so let me know when that special project is coming due. I'll help.
Days pass in the decidedly not-normal routine for the students of Daedalus. The water finally gets turned on in the dorms, but the magic springs are left intact because some of the students have grown to prefer the outdoor pools of water shrouded by curtains of greenery like some sylvan glade. During warmer days especially, the springs are almost as much of a student hangout as the outdoor pool.
Tim's potions finally wear off in the interim. Rumor has it that his older brother Abram Mathers chewed him out pretty seriously for his sharing of the potions. The other rumor was about Eliana summoning some gigantic tree monster using Andromeda in the ritual. The garden shows the scars of the battle, with a large, misshapen tree felled across the formerly manicured lawn.
When Archie and Jessie finally switch back, Jessie discovers she can still control the giant spiders created the evening of the party. Surprisingly, the faculty of Daedalus are supportive of her new "pets," and bring in a small herd of goats as food for the spiders.
* * *
Mid-terms arrive for the Daedalus combat classes and physical education. Ms. Foster imposes a rigorous set of tests, scaled based on each student's physical skills and abilities.
Despite his personal doubt about his efficiency in hand to hand combat, Aquarelle ends up performing quite. He had been practicing!
There were more important things for Chloe than exams. Chroknight phoned it in, obviously distracted and not paying attention to the actual parameters of the test. Which ended with them failing, which was probably going to get Chicle to give them a lecture later. It didn't matter compared to other obligations...
...Which despite a few hiccups were going fairly well. Keeping tabs on Beebee, dinners with Dad were actually good, she was kicking butt at band, her special project was coming together, and the store was still struggling but recent new releases had pushed their sales numbers up.
For Chloe, if not Chroknight, things were looking up.
Sam understood the need for combat training, she did... really. This has never been a strong suit of hers. While she is not completely out of shape, she still overthinks everything, and those ends up being knocked to her rump.
She doesn't let it bother her though.
Noticing Sam isn't doing that grate when they make their round sparing together, Gui makes sure to let her hit him a couple times.
A few days since the night with Tim, Max finds herself waiting for a cab in a narrow alley thanks to a note that magically appeared in her room. The pentagram on the borrowed t-shirt began to glow, then spat out a folded piece of paper that read, M, I'M SENDING A CAB FOR U. IT'S FOR THAT THING WE TALKED ABOUT. BE AT SUGARHOUSE ALLEY IN ONE HOUR. DRESS CODE IS CASUAL, BUT WEAR YOUR PURPLE. --SDM
Sugarhouse Alley wasn't far from Taylor Tower, Max discovers, and makes it there almost exactly in one hour. Standing at the entrance to the narrow and dingy alley barely wide enough for a bicycle, she does not see any cabs except for the ones passing by on the main street. After counting several that drive by without any hint of slowing down, a horn from deep within the alley gets her attention.
Max turns to spot an old-model cab wedged impossibly in the narrow alley that wasn't there before, it's trunk facing her! Its heavy steel frame could never have managed to back up from the depths of the alley, but somehow it was there anyway. A grizzled old cabbie twists in his seat. "Sweethaaht! Let's go, the meter's runnin'!" he calls out in a thick drawl. The rear passenger door opens, bending the brick wall of the alley in a perception-twisting display which gives her access to the back seat.
The cab smells of old diesel fumes, cigar smoke, and cheap aftershave, Max discovers once inside. The cabbie twists back around and accelerates, though Max doesn't feel any inertia. The brick walls of the alley blur past while the engine revs loudly rattling the whole cab. The entire ride is disorienting, though Max's demonic senses tell her that the cab is pushing past veils of realities -- less moving distance and more moving into a more magical shadow of Halcyon City. Lights and images flash through the cab's windshield as the driver takes a dizzying number of twists and turns through alleyways between realms.
Finally, it screeches to a halt. The cabbie turns around and passes Max a card. "Here ya go, doll. In case you evah need another ride." It reads, LUCKY EDDIE'S CAB SERVICE.
Getting out of the cab, Max finds herself standing in front of several steps leading down to an old speakeasy-style bar. Tim is there, wearing a vintage Barcelona football jersey. "You got my note. Great." He walks past her to pass a heavy copper coin into Lucky Eddie's outstretched palm, then turns back to her as the cab fades from sight. "Ready to go in? We gotta meet someone, and they would only talk in person."
Andromeda loves tests; tests are easy. The hard ones are her favorite, but so long as they're not asking for what she can do, only that she do what she can do, but perfectly, then it's everything she wants.
Just as in the start of the semester there's nothing that puts a smile on her face like acing a flying obstacle course or tearing down the biggest things they have to throw at her in training.
It's Wonderful.
***
She looks at the entrance to the speakeasy. ”Alright, I’m ready when you are.”
Ms. Foster's physical education mid-terms were especially brutal, with the Hard Knocks class engaging with several repurposed Dread Bots that had none of their lethality removed. The lower-level combat and self-defense classes were scaled down to match the physical abilities of the students, but still pushed them to their limits.
Unfortunately for Chroknight, they were soundly defeated by the Dread Bots. Johnny and Xaiara easily passed the Hard Knocks mid-term along with Andromeda, while Carlos and Ne'veah found themselves defeated. Chitin's endurance sustained him through the battle, but he couldn't do much against the bots' own armor.
Phalanx's duplicates and weaponry brought him through the advanced class easily, while Devil Diva also manages to pass with relative ease although at the cost of not seeing Tim in the time leading up to the mid-term. Indarius, unfortunately, is still off his game as he takes too many hits. This was doubly rough for the Transformed, having recently been knocked out by the tree creature.
In basic class, Aquarelle manages to surprise Ms. Foster by not only having a strong showing himself, but bolstering Statian when she needed it, getting her a passing grade!
* * *
Chloe's band practice is a chance for her to focus on the steps, the rhythm, and the music while letting all her other worries fall away. It's a little harder since the Daedalus party which saw Beebee grow a tail and get kicked out of Halcyon Prep so long as she had the magical appendage. She still hasn't returned, and her severe grounding by her parents has left Chloe with few chances to talk with her.
It's been days since the truth potion wore off, so she has been expecting to see the school suspension lift and Beebee's return any day now. But time keeps passing and she hasn't seen her friend. The band instructor has put Jeremy Hendrickson in the place of drum major in Beebee's absence, and the longer it goes, the more rumors are that she won't have a spot to return to.
Once home after an otherwise successful practice, she sees her father in the kitchen reheating the other night's bulgogi leftovers. There's a bounce to his step, Chloe notices. He has a terrible poker face, and whenever he's done something nice for her it shows in his whole body.
"Look there on the table," he says before they even get to "hello." Chloe sees tickets to the Taylor International grand reopening of their museum of superheroics throughout the years in Halcyon, the Praetorium!
* * *
Tim waves off the apology. "You know forgiveness is for suckers, right? So don't apologize," he says with a smirk. "C'mon."
He takes Max's hand and leads her down the steps. "Something tells me you've never been to this side of Halcyon before. I guess that works if you want to stick to Topside and play with the heroes and villains. But there's far, far more beneath the surface if you're willing to get a little dirty."
They stop at the bottom of the stairs where a heavy door with a slit in it bars their way. A pair of beady, orange eyes regard them through the slit. A voice asks some sort of question in garbled syllables that scratch the inside of Max's skull. She doesn't recognize the language, but understands the meaning of the question. Password?
Tim holds up what looks like a Tarot card. It is suddenly consumed in fire and reduced to ash in a fraction of a second. The door is noisily unlocked and creaks open. Tim starts forward, but stops abruptly and turns to Max. "Here, this'll get you in." He smears some of the ash from the Tarot card on her forehead.
Taking her hand again, he leads her past the door and into a long hallway that smells of incense and something else. Something beneath it.
Blood.
What do you do?
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Sam is just in a T-shirt, black with seven red dots that seem to have no meaning. Just that. "good, you are here. I've been developing a translation algorithm to understand you." she tilts her head, letting the loose copper curls cascade down her shoulder. "I am ready "
"...first, pants." Chroknight points before turning away. "Okay, so, there's not just one way to manipulate time. I use my powers mostly to accelerate my tempo so I can move quickly - in your perspective. In mine I'm really moving at a normal pace while everyone else is slowed down."
"Now, time travel is much more different and complicated because there's several methods. I call the first the write over method, where I blip back and redo an event. Then there's the flash forward, which is kind of an emergency escape. The staple loop, where I travel back in time but avoid a branching event - that's good for a day at most."
They look back once they're sure Sam is more fully dressed. "What I want to do is potentially a stable loop, because of the dead cat clause. You know that one?"
Sam pulls on a pair of black leggings and answers "Schrödinger's cat is the most popularized scientific experiment, known by an estimated 67.34% of the population." Sam's way of saying Yes, she knows that one. She pulls her hair back into a pony tail and looks at her tablet which is charging. A small frown says she needs to replace the battery with a fusion solar perpetual something another, then she does something drastic.
She walks over to Jessie's side of the room and borrows a notebook and pencil.
"Time is consider immutable." she draws a line "Accelerating and deaccelerating..." she draws a line over it with an arrow one direction and another line under it going the other direction "... is easy to quantfy. The manipulation is singular, centered on you and you alone. Changing time..." she erases the middle line and makes it all wonky "... is either a mental condition or science fiction." she pauses, her emerald eyes holding the faceplate "But I believe you, I just don't understand how. Can you describe How you do... the rewrite option?"
"It's like I decided to scrap a panel of a comic book page and start over. I jump back to where I was previously and where I want to restart. Though I suppose the thought has occurred that I'm merely seeing the future seconds ahead and adjusting as needed." They shrug. "However it works, it works. Like how we had this discussion already, only I was distracted by your legs so I slipped back to ask you to wear pants."
"There's the biggest curse of my powers, though - I remember things that haven't happened because I changed it. Like, fighting Shard, I came at him around sixty times only to having to retry every time to avoid a lethal blow."
Sam looks down at her legs, then back up at Chroknight with a tilt, she almost asked Why, it is on her lips, about her legs, but shakes her head to dislodge that question as unimportant "Is it possible that you only see the potential of an outcome, adjust the parameters and re-perceive? Never actually travelling in time, but simply collecting data for nanosecond sped forecasting?"
"...so, moving on," Chroknight says as they change the subject. "Closed loop. This is real time travel. You should definitely watch Primer because it's scary how close it is. Anyways, this isn't quite the same because from my perspective I'm traveling back nearly instantly. I have to be aware of avoiding paradox, which my armor helps with apparently. I've tested it as much as week long loops, though the risks are greater with longer loops so I try to avoid doing that for more than 24 hours."
They look at Sam. "For something like going back all the way to the eighties, I'll have to plan a tourist itinerary instead. Where to be hour by hour, avoiding mucking around and causing a major branching incident. That brings out time wraiths like blood in the water. So I need your help in researching the Star Pharaoh's last visit. Exact dates help. I'm thinking that I need to bring back a particular item, but only after he leaves. I think it's vital to beating him and I'm getting worried his return is nigh."
Sam simply nods at the change of subject. Oddly she is used to it from people. She sits on her bed, plain gray bedspread, crosslegged to work her notebook. "I have not seen 'Primer' but will. I do understand the concept of paradox, not time wraiths, but probability suggests they are not the prime reason for my involvement." she picks a new page, draws a line, circling a point on the line, draws a nice picture of a butterfly flapping its wings, squilly lines representing wind, growing until it becomes a tornado. "You know that one?"
"Yeah, that's a moth. Changing the future through small choices. Want of a nail and all that." They tug on their left ring finger as they think. "But it's more likely that changing the past will create a branching timeline than overwrite it. Overwriting has to be subtle to work. Again, time wraiths get sensitive to things that mess with the timeline and will stop at nothing to correct them."
Sam nods again, understanding enough. "Do you need me to research the point of temporal entry, to help limit your 'mucking'?" to her, it is the logical application of her skills, but she also knows the Chronknight defies logic, so waits...
[B]"Yeah, let's take a look at the Star Pharoah's final hours in the 80s, but I also want to test things out with something that's closer to this century. I think maybe the rail disaster from seven years ago, the fight with Ultra-star and Helter Skelter."
Sam looks over at her tablet, frowns, again. A notebook will not work for this. So she rises off her bed, opens a drawer crammer with tech. A large laptop comes out, old in tech terms, and the Murphy budget. It comes up, a whirling fan in her lap, then she starts moving all over the keyboard. "I do." she finally answers. Her threads come out, pushing the back of her tshirt enough to do so and projects images, charts, video all over most walls. On her side, Jessie's spiders get annoyed at bright lights.
The event is being portrayed in dozens of ways.
"My belief is that so long as nothing massive changes, like if we avert a war or blow up a city, our timeline should be unscathed. I also believe it's possible to pull something which 'disappeared' in the past into our present without causing a branching event. Considering my abilities, something as big as a plane could be possible - like if I wanted to go and grab Amelia Earhart and her plane."
There's a manic energy to Chroknight right now as they pace the room. They pause only to look at Sam's projections. And things start to blur as time slips with them talking theory and facts, the physical distance between them getting closer every few minutes until Chroknight is sitting on the bed with her.
"...I have a weird question for you." They say, suddenly getting quiet. "How did your mom pass?"
Sam's fingers stop. Her breath shoots in as she clenches for a second, then she remembers that Chronknight understands. The anxiety that had broken through settles somewhat and Sam looks over to the face place.
For some reason her matrix whispers soft 'So close'. "Cancer..." her most hated word. "Mom choose to live her last months instead of waste for more time. I agreed, the logic sound, but by the end..." a slight welling in her eyes, then a tear rolls down her cheek, making her blink in surprise.
"Sounds like her cancer was aggressive then." Chroknight is pensive. "...you talk to her at all? Not like for real, but imagine the conversations you might have with her if she was still around. About the stuff you're too afraid to tell other people."
Sam tilts her head to the side "Yes, but I created an AI so she could answer back, in even the slightest way. It went bad." she let out a small sigh "How about you?"
"Every night. Before I go to sleep. Sometimes I swear I can hear her answering back." Chroknight replies. "...I miss her a lot. But I can't bring back the dead. Only the living."
Sam's chest aches, despite every dampener in place. Her hand tightens into her tshirt, as if it would help. "It would cause a paradox, too great a ripple?" she doesn't wait for an answer but then asks, much much softer "Do you ever go back to... see her?"
"I've had these powers for a relatively short time. The farthest I've actually traveled back is a week. And going back just to see her is too great a risk for too little," Chroknight says.
They sigh outwardly and clasp their hands together on their lap. "...I should probably go. It's been an hour strategizing and you probably have other things to focus on."
Sam looked to the hands then back up. "Do you like comic books? I read them after difficult days, to settle. I was about to do so now. You could as well?" her green eyes questioning
"...I...really want to do that." They fidget a bit. "Screw it. I've got nothing but time on my side anyways. What are you reading?"
Sam gets up to another drawer, pulling out a stack of old comic books. She plops back right next to her teammate. "I prefer older ones, not based on real heroes. Like this Super-Man. His powers divert from sense so I don't try to rationalize, too much" her fingers slide across the yellowed page
"Huh. You must really love Looney Tunes then. They don't make any sense in the way they can survive point blank shotgun blasts, falling off cliffs and getting whacked with a mallet." Chroknight says. "Personally, I like manga. Slice of life stuff where the stakes are low but the emotions are high. Sports manga is great for that. Blue Lock's my favorite right now."
Sam blinks, considering, then gets up again, pulling something else from the drawer. "I have someone that fits your preferences." she sits again with a manga called 'Fruits Basket' "It was recommended by Chloe Parker-Myeong, who you interacted with a bowling. But I don't understand it." Sam's matrix had tried to help, but the reasoning behind the interactions flummoxed even advanced algorithms.
"Oh. That's kind of old. I've read the series beforehand though and liked it," They say, suddenly uncomfortable. "...I think that I should get going. We'll talk later, we've done good on researching this for now. Might as well take our time on pulling the trigger."
Sam's brows furrow a little, not understanding the sudden desire of Chronknight for wanting to go. Her matrix nearly screams DON'T ASK, so she doesn't "Using firearm metaphors statistically end negative outcomes." she tells her teammate instead and rises. "But I will continue to research and be prepared for when you wish to 'pull'." she gives a slight tug of her lips and nods goodnight.
Chloe was in the middle of trying her luck to see if Beebee had gotten phone permission back for the third time that day, texting her again, when she walked in the door. At first she was confused by her dad's energy, until she drifted to look at what was on the table.
"What - what is this?" Chloe asks, looking amazed as she takes a good look at the tickets. They seemed to be genuine. It was crazy. "Isn't this like a super high society type of gala with fancy dresses and live music? Dad, how did you get these?"
The hallway stretches ahead as Tim leads Max confidently. His hand grips hers tightly when he senses her worry and he gives her a reassuring wink. They pass through a leather-bound door at the end of the hall, and Max immediately sees where the scent of blood is coming from.
Beautiful people lounge languidly in a den of pleasure and pain. Max spots pairs of red, bloodshot eyes looking up from goblets of a thick red liquid, baring gleaming white fangs. In a darkened corner she spots a gaunt figure dipping a knitted cap in a basin of a similar red fluid. The previously faint scent of blood is now nearly overpowering to Max's nose.
Tim's grip becomes stronger as he urges her past the limp bodies. "Don't make a scene. They've chosen to be here, all right? Don't do the hero thing. You want answers? This is how you get it." He moves her in the direction of a dark curtain where the stench is both sweet and sickly.
Tim parts the curtain, urging her to come with him. "Come on. Shezmu awaits."
* * *
"Let your father have a few secrets," he smiles, causing his whole face to become a series of comforting creases and lines. After a few moments of reveling in his daughter's surprise, he shrugs sheepishly. "They're general admission, so don't get your hopes up that you will be standing next to the Stalwart One." Despite his general disdain for superheroes, Captain Stalwart has always managed to remain on her dad's good side.
He goes to her and puts a warm hand on her own. "You play pretend so much in our shop. I felt... that it might not hurt to get close for one night." Chloe meets her father's eyes, and for a moment she catches a glimmer of old, lingering fear. But she sees him force it away with effort for her sake.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Finding the right moment to have a tough conversation with Chroknight is an objective that requires careful timing, tact, and patience.
Or the opposite.
As Chroknight walks away from an exercise with a failing klaxon blaring behind them, Andromeda gets right up in their face. "Are you weaker than I thought? Or do you not care enough to do this right?"
"What's your problem?" Chroknight asks as they are blocked by Andromeda. It would be easy enough for them to slip away, but they stand their ground in front of her. "I'm just not feeling well today. Didn't perform up to my standards. Oh well, it's hardly the end of the world." They shrug nonchalantly.
Andromeda's sheath crackles and spits as it seizes on even minute shifts in humidity to act against. "I've seen your best not be good enough; that means you should be trying to improve. Are you being lazy, or could you not go back and do the exercise right?"
"I mean, I could just do it over and over again until I got it right," Chroknight muses as they look back at the exam area. "But then what's the point of taking the test if I can't fail? I'm not going to cheat. They would accuse me of doing so anyways if I aced it, so might as well let them scream at me like you are for screwing it up."
Andromeda gains very little from martial arts designed to make the human body into a weapon; she hasn't studied them except for force-fed analysis of the signs that a practitioner might be generally lethal, or somehow capable of breaking her sheath. The double handed shove to Chroknight's chest isn't born of her training, but of a thousand other schoolyard confrontations.
There's a crack like thunder, and Chroknight flies.
"This isn't about grades?! Jesus, kids like you always suck up to everyone around them, or they want to know what will be on the 'graded portion' of the test so they don't have to ever care about the rest, or they give up and transfer the second something's so hard they might not get an A, but you don't get to do that you slacker!"
Chroknight flew back, unable to do anything until they hit the ground, swiftly engaging temporal protocols to reduce the impact force and kip up to their feet. In another second in Andromeda's perspective, they were already back up in front of her.
"What is your defect? Why do you care what I do, you're not my mom. It's not like I'm the only one who fell flat," They say with irritation in their voice. "Not that it matters to you, but I do have more to my life than Daedalus."
"Daedalus?! Who cares about Daedalus?!" She clenches to try to stop it, but another pulse slaps Chroknight back a few paces. "If you don't practice like it matters, then I have to save you like with Shard, or like Johnny had to save you in class, or like the teachers let you off the hook just now. You act like you can't lose, and then you lose all the time. You don't focus; you don't stick to a goal; you just throw yourself at whatever's in front of you even if you can't be trusted to follow through.
"You're dangerous; you're careless; you're stupid; I won't let you keep getting people hurt."
"Oh, I get people hurt? Like you're not a walking, talking ball of force fields that slam into anyone who tries to get close to you?" Chroknight crosses their arms, but keeps their distance for the moment to avoid getting shoved back again. "You think that I don't practice? I practice far more than anyone else. Quite literally, when I'm stretching hours to make time for it all! But you know what I also have? A job I need to do, family I need to be there for, the other school I'm enrolled at and keeping my GPA from dipping below college acceptance levels. Being a hero is important to me, but I have a lot of other obligations that mean I can't spend my every waking hour fighting ninjas!"
"Then you need to practice better. You need focus on the right goals. You need to stop sniffing around or kissing everyone , because it just makes you stupid in and out of a fight. You have a power that has so many uses, and you're telling me you care about your stupid GPA? Don't you care about what you can do? What you're meant to be? You control time, why are you wasting it at a comic shop or with your mom?"
There's a palpable tension as Chroknight freezes briefly. They clench their fists. Take a moment to breathe slowly before responding.
"You're making a lot of assumptions right now, so I'm going to avoid punching you back for the shit you do not understand. But I need you to consider this: Do you think you will always have your powers? Or is there possibly a shelf life for them? What happens when you wake up and can't get out of bed because your brittle bones won't support your weight without them? My powers were given to me, they sure as hell can be taken away. I can't take for granted I'll always have them. So, yeah, I care about my GPA when it means I'll have more options than punching bad guys for my future."
Punching me? They are such a waste. "If my powers went away, then I would do what was still in my power. I'd research. If I couldn't do that, then theory. I work on keeping current; I also pass my exams and succeed at the mission I've set for myself. I'll stop caring about your exam results when you do something right without immediately getting people hurt; I'll stop caring about you being afraid to take the plunge and actually commit to something instead of going off half-cocked if you succeed at the things I have tried to trust you at.
"You're only here for one class, and you're failing it. Do you think we don't all see you failing?"
"You know, I was expecting this lecture to come from the faculty, but you're still not getting it." Chroknight is more wound up as they look at her through the armored black glass of their helmet. "I know I failed. So, now I guess I'll have to see what Daedalus does to its failures. You keep going for those Gold Stars, I'm sure that they'll appreciate how much you suck up for their approval." They shrug and turn to walk away, clearly having enough of this conversation.
"Why would you accept failing when you don't have to?" The question rips out of Andromeda, confusion wrestling with anger.
"I don't know, maybe I just hate myself and am self-flagellating because I could live a life with zero consequences but the guilt would eat me alive?" They suggest, before flipping her the double bird from behind. "I'm going to work now. Catch you later, Crater."
Archie lounges on the sidelines of the vast training room reveling in his exemplary performance. He mindlessly juggles various knives as he watches all of his classmates and teammates complete their exams. As Andromeda sends Chroknight flying across the room he drops a knife and all the rest vanish into the air. He leans forward to pick up their heated conversation.
Archie grins in amusement as Chroknight walks away showing double middle fingers. He hops off the bench and walks over to Andromeda. "You trying to make a sport out of burning bridges? Seven times out of ten whenever I see you having a conversation it involves you being like, the most vindictive person ever. Seriously though, what's your problem?" He asks.
A small smile flickers to life at Phalanx's approach, but dies at his words. "Vindictive? I... I don't see how that applies. I have no interest in vengeance against anyone you've seen me talk to. I don't... I only upbraid people's performance when they are failing to fulfill the trust that they've asked to have placed on them."
Chloe is trying to figure this out, though the tickets being general admission does make sense to her. "This is still so cool...oh, what am I going to wear? Do I rent something from one of those dress stores?" She asks herself out loud.
She pauses to look at her dad. "Wait, are you not coming with me? There's two tickets here..."
Archie's phone interrupts their conversation with a distinctive ring. It's a tone from his old life, one that he likely thought he'd moved on from. The Merchant is calling.
"Phalanx. It has been some time since you've reached out to me, so I thought I'd check in. I find your little dalliance with altruism amusing, and I expect it to be short-lived. I know you.
"But I'm in need of that altruistic turn of yours, so I'll get to the point. A former client of mine has stolen a Khi’thyri cryo-phase detonator and brought it to Earth. I've no wish to see the planet turned into a ball of ice, and I expect you wouldn't either. There you go. You can play hero and save the world."
* * *
Chloe's dad straightens his shirt. "I was hoping to be your date," he says with a fatherly smile. It falls slightly at the idea of not going with her, but he turns it into a different kind of fatherly smile. "If you have someone else that you desperately want to go with, well, I would understand. So long as I get to meet him."
* * *
Behind the curtain, the stench of blood fades dramatically though it still lurks in the back of her nose behind the strong scent of perfumes and incense. The chamber they enter is dimly lit, with low ceilings and dark red drapes making it feel cramped.
Tim leads Max to a corner alcove where two chairs are set before a small table with a decanter of a dark, red liquid and three goblets. On the other side of the table lounges a cloaked and shrouded figure with a stylized lion's mask hiding its features. Tim pulls out one chair for Max, then sits himself. "Shezmu, god of wine and perfume," he says more for Max's benefit. "This is Max. She wants information on Akhenaten, also known as the Star Pharoah."
The shrouded figure spasms, shaking its head brusquely. "Ahk'nathal. Your pronunciation is garbage."
"Him too," Tim adds, not missing a beat. "Why the face-to-face?"
"It is customary. Ahk'nathal's time is nigh. Blood must be sacrificed." A bandaged hand reaches out from the layered cloaks and grasps the decanter. It pours the liquid, almost black from the reddish light in the room, into the three waiting goblets. "Drink."
What do you do??
Well. That was one awkward conversation Chloe was hoping to not have with her dad until she was well into college.
"No, of course. I just thought that you would hate being there with all of them," Chloe says. "I'm maybe a little worried? But I still want to go with you. It's been on my radar ever since I heard it's being reopened. Going opening night is like crazy awesome. Thank you! Oh! I wish I could tell Beebee about this."
She frowns, glancing at her phone. "I haven't heard from her in a while now. Have you seen the Badawi's recently?"
"It's that attitude, you're always so uptight. Everything is so statistical and how people need to fill their roles. Just try loosening up a bit, it'd do you--" Archies phone rings with an odd tune. "Dammit, I get a whole new phone every three hours, and he still finds a way. " He mutters and sighs as he opens takes the call. " You don't know me man, you knew me as a angsty sixteen year old. People change." He says heatedly into his phone, then pauses as the Merchant talks.
"I'm inclined to tell you to clean up you own damn mess, but fortunately for you, my team is in dire need of something to punch. I presume you'll deposit my usual fee in my account. This does sound like a job after all." He hangs up as he finishes talking. "Good news Angelica, we now have something to do. We need to get the team together."
"Phalanx: We need to have an emergency meeting, a problem came up."
Sam laid on her dorm room bed, head buried in a laptop, while Jessie paid music with a thudding beat on the other side of the room, while reading, and watching a video on antitoxins 'Just in case' her friend had said.
Her phone beeped, and she read.
Statian: Where do we meet?
Word spreads throughout Daedalus that the students are invited to the grand reopening of the Praetorium, a museum dedicated to the heroics throughout the years of Halcyon City. Originally a vanity project of the Taylor family -- the dynasty that produced the very first Praetorian back in the 1940s and has continued to defend the city to present day -- the museum was shut down in light of the tragic deaths of the most recent Praetorian and his wife Ultra Star.
As the off-world mission of the Alliance stretches on with no apparent end in sight, the City of Heroes seems ready to embrace this chance to honor the heroes of the past and remind the world that it still stands strong. The young adult hero group known as the Heralds have been ably defending the city, and they will be the guests of honor at the galas planned for the Praetorium's grand reopening.
Daedalus is abuzz with students fretting about whether to appear in formal attire or whether they should finalize their costume ideas.
But as Archie sends out an alert to the team about an incoming crisis, who has time to worry about a museum?
"No, of course. I just thought that you would hate being there with all of them," Chloe says. "I'm maybe a little worried? But I still want to go with you. It's been on my radar ever since I heard it's being reopened. Going opening night is like crazy awesome. Thank you! Oh! I wish I could tell Beebee about this."
She frowns, glancing at her phone. "I haven't heard from her in a while now. Have you seen the Badawi's recently?"
Her father shakes his head with a sad sigh. "I'm sorry, but Beebee's condition hasn't changed so they're not letting her see anyone. At least you were not foolish enough to sneak out and get mutated at a party. 아이구!! I almost didn't buy the tickets, but I felt I should reward you. I tell the Badawis they should let you see her. You are a good influence."
As Chloe is talking to her father, Archie's message is delivered to Chroknight.
The Merchant provided Archie more information about his former customer. A piece of advanced technology flashes a hologram of a pale, slender being, clearly not human. Large, opaque eyes and wispy white hair along with a delicate-looking frame give the being the impression that it is female. "This is V'orpl, Nuvoan arms dealer and renegade from her species' empire," the Merchant's smooth voice explains in the recording. "She has stolen a cryo-phase detonator from the Khi'thyri, which was supposed to go to me. Instead, before its tracker was disabled the CPD was detected on a direct course to Earth. Should it be activated while on Earth, its effect would be catastrophic."
Chloe smiles while pondering why her best friend still had a tail. She was going to have to get to the bottom of that. (No pun intended). "They haven't even given her phone back, because I've left her like a million messages since then." She glances at her phone, while also feeling the hum of the burner in her back pocket letting her know of a team message. "Okay, I definitely need to go and see if there's anything off the rack that will work for a gala so I'll be back later. Thank you again!"
She kisses her father's cheek and heads out, checking her message before going to quickly transform and then head to the meeting site.
Chroknight: Campus probably. See you by Andrometree
The fallen husk of what was some temporal duplicate of Andromeda turned into a tree made for a comfortable seat for Chroknight. CORVIS was perched on their upright knee as they laid back against the trunk waiting for everyone else.
A brief dossier scrolls down Andromeda's vision as she looks at the alien. "They didn't use me on extraterrestrials much, but They had some dealings with her too. Her gear works on power sources that are mostly non-compatible with our local energy sources, but unfortunately, Nuvoan tech is very self-sufficient. Even after her exile it should all be functional, but it can be vulnerable in the short term to being discharged."
***
Max looks askance at the hologram. "Aliens. Hmm. So, are we going to have to go into space to intercept the detonator?"
Tim flashes a tattooed X on his wrist. "None for me, thanks." He watches Max for a moment to see if she takes a drink, looking merely curious. He shrugs when it appears she's cueing off him and turns back to Shezmu.
"Your refusal to stand on ceremony is not helping," the being rasps.
"Blame my father," Tim says, eliciting a hiss from Shezmu. "Or, give Max credit for not gulping down any old mysterious liquid. It can only work in her favor so many times before the odds catch up." He gives her a wink out of the corner of his eye.
"Very well," Shezmu spits. It turns its head slightly toward Max who feels its gaze fall upon her fully. It's a deeply unsettling experience, putting her in the mind of her earliest dreams after first changing of being in the thrall of a much larger and powerful demon in a fiery hellscape. The human side of her quails in fear while the demon seeks to supplicate herself before this immeasurably ancient being.
The feeling passes when Tim snaps his fingers in the space between them. "Hey! Not while I'm here. Pull your, 'puny mortal' shtick with someone who's got time."
He grabs Max's hand. "Hey. You had questions about Ahk'nathal. Go ahead. 'The works,' I think you said. Now's your chance."
Max recognizes the name "Khi'thyr." That's the species name of the Maw, an alien that had allied itself with the Taylor family back in the 1990s and still remains friends of the family to this day.
Andromeda's files report that as a Nuvoan, V'orpl utilizes their kind's unique brand of technology that relies on exceedingly complex long-chain proteins and carbohydrates that are nearly organic in their look and feel. Furthermore, as a female, V'orpl has potent telepathic powers.
* * *
While the meeting is going on, Gui gets a buzz on his phone. When he checks it, it's from Ne'veah. She's sent him a link to a fancy Southern-style dining establishment called the Sazerac Cottage.
Panther Pride: What do you think of this place? Or U can surprise me
Panther Pride: But let me know style. I need to pick the right outfit
"So there's an alien on our planet with a weapon of mass destruction that could send us back to the Ice Age. Usually you have to tune in to NCIS for that plot," Chroknight says as they sit up, looking at the hologram of the Merchant.
"...Archie. This stinks. We sure wouldn't know about this cryo weapon if the Merchant had gotten his hands on it, and it still would be crazy dangerous and on our planet. That he's reaching out to you to fix this problem for him annoys me because that makes me think he thinks you're going to switch your cape colors again." They tug gently on their left ring finger.
"I think that if we find this Nuvoan woman, we let her go as long as we get the weapon. And then we turn that weapon in for proper disposal to the Heralds, because I don't know how to safely disarm a cryonuke. That sound solid to everyone else?"
Andromeda looks at Chroknight with faint surprise. "Yes. When you encircle an enemy, leave an outlet free. Do not press a desperate foe too hard." She recites.
Andromeda's dossier provides an addendum that reports that the last times V'orpl visited Earth, she favored hideouts practically on top of or directly beneath dense and busy areas within high population centers such as Marston Plaza. Xeno-psych profile posits that she uses chaotic spots of high traffic of minds to shield her own psychic abilities from detection.
A raspy laugh issues from behind the mask. "He plans to rule. His children will break from their frozen prison first, while his followers prepare the way. They hear his whispers, erasing the signs of his coming so the populace is lulled into complacency. His children will remove the guardians of the House of Geb. The beings of Heka will heed his call to service and fall under his sway. Then Ahk'nathal will burst the bars of his prison and fall to Geb, to begin his reign anew."
Shezmu's bandaged hand grasps his goblet and pulls it into the shrouded darkness of the cloak, and tilts his mask just enough for the drink to reach his lips. "You ask of weaknesses. A being such as Ahk'nathal has none. He has been turned back, yes. The time of his return postponed, true. But he will return, again and again, until victory."
The dread gaze of Shezmu falls on Max again, but having experienced it once she holds to herself better though it still is a challenge to resist. "You have heard the summons of Ahk'nathal, child of Isfet? Why do you look for weakness when you should be serving his strength?"
She looks to Tim. "I think I've heard enough. Ready to go?"
Sam's threads hold her tablet, while her finders fly over the screen. "Entry into our atmosphere would cause significant energy fluctuations, which I are no longer reported on under mass media due to the increased amount, but are recorded in various databases... given the last known location and speed of transit we can correlate that to a timestamp and..."
"He expects me to turncoat eventually, he thinks he knows me. The reason he's reaching out is cause he knows I have now choice but to clean his own dirty laundry. " He sighs. "You never truly get out of that life, it follows you around forever. But this is a win-win scenario I suppose, we save the world and get paid!" His usual grin spreads across his face again. "I'll make sure you all get a cut."
"So, brainiacs, what do we know about finding her?"
"Sounds good," Tim says, rising to his feet and assisting Max to hers. "Shezmu, pleasure doing business with you." He pulls out a medical blood bag and tosses it on the table, which the being snatches at greedily. It flings off its mask to better get to the blood, letting Max catch a glimpse of a mummified inhuman face with pronounced fangs.
Tim puts his hand on the small of Max's back as he escorts her out, leaving the sick sounds of slurping behind them.
At the mention of being paid for saving the world, Sam looks at Phalanx, her green eyes flat as she simply says "No" then gets back to work "If the effects of activating the device would be catastrophic as your contact states, activating it while she is on world would be a logical flaw in her plan, one that would need an escape route already in place. We could search for those to narrow down her location possibilities."
"Do we really need to teke de device from her?" Gui asks the others. "If de Merchant wanted it, dere is de chant he will try to get his hands on it after we have found dis woman... but if we give her e hard time and she leaves earth with it, den we'd be e bit safer, no?"
Max whips out her phone, quickly making a post to see if anybody in her audience has reported sightings of somebody matching V’orpl’s description.
***
Tim looks surprised. "You already knew a lot of that? Huh. The 'Star Pharoah's' peeps have done a pretty good job scrubbing his secrets, so I thought a contemporary of his would know more than that. Used up most of my unicorn blood for it, too."
Once they're outside of the speakeasy, he pulls out a piece of chalk. "If you're not satisfied, I'm not satisfied. I'll see what else I can scrounge up. If he turns beings of Heka to his service, there have gotta be a few around from his last attempted invasion we can press for info. Oh, 'Heka' is just an old term for magic. You know."
He taps the chalk against his leg as he thinks for a moment. "I might go have a chat with Dear Old Dad. You probably don't want to join me for that, do you?"
Max immediately gets several promises to keep an eye out for V'orpl. Minutes tick by as the message board gets more and more commentors filling the space with chatter and shout-outs to DD.
Eventually, she gets a message that looks promising!
@yourfriendlyneighborhoodlawyer: This might be what you're looking for? I'm at the Halcyon Bar Assn's conference. Stepped into a room not being used for an Infini-time with a client. Client said something like what you described went into frame, looked at me, and then I drooled for a half hour. I don't remember seeing anything, but the client was freaked out.
@yourfriendlyneighborhoodlawyer: If this pans out, maybe you'll come to the judicial reception? Also see me if you ever need a good divorce lawyer!
A quick Infini-search shows the Halcyon Bar Association's annual conference is going on this week at the Quesada Convention Center!
"We don't want anyone to have the weapon. The Merchant can't have it; we should just destroy it or remove it. Her departing with it is minimally acceptable."
Andromeda nods without surprise as Devil Diva efficiently narrows down their target's location. "Good. We need some sort of countermeasure for her telepathy. I could speak with Professor Ascher or one of my Psionics classmates, but they might not like me?" She glances at Phalanx. "I am unpleasant and 'staticky' to be around, or so I have been told."
"Ugh, a lawyer convention?" Chroknight reads over Max's shoulder as they look at the message. "That's so annoying. You think she's looking for an immigration lawyer or is she trying to take over the world by burying it in lawsuits?" They quip.
"We should get on this sooner than later. After all, we've got the big Praetorium gala to prepare for. If I can go." They seem to be a little dejected, as if there's something holding them back. "...anyways, Sam? You got something that can maybe prevent us from becoming drooling simps for this psychic smuggler? Apparently my temporal powers can't slow me down faster than the speed of thought, so any edge against that would be appreciated."
Andromeda considers what she's observed in her Psionics class so far regarding her classmates' abilities. Kennedy can project psionic hallucinations that feed off of people and grow stronger the more people believing them. Gwen is empathic and can sense things remotely in a fairly classic form of ESP. Cullen has decently strong tactile telepathy and telekinesis. Abeki can astrally project herself when she sleeps, linking herself with other sleeping minds.
Sam thinks... "Studies have show most telepaths read electrical impulses across the brain as central processing units do so across motherboard, though wirelessly. If we mask the signatures, disrupt them with competing but not altering signals, we could confuse her attempts to dominate."
"Ingesting a series of nanite swarms would be statitically the most probably to succeed but it countered with being the approach most likely to be rejected by... most of you." she taps out a series of specs and comes up with something Phalanx could produce "Alternatively headware that intercepts psionic data streams and alters them in significant ways to make them undecipherable by our brains or hers."
Yes, they looks like tinfoil hats, but that is just because she added no cosmetics to the design.
Andromeda nods without surprise as Devil Diva efficiently narrows down their target's location. "Good. We need some sort of countermeasure for her telepathy. I could speak with Professor Ascher or one of my Psionics classmates, but they might not like me?" She glances at Phalanx. "I am unpleasant and 'staticky' to be around, or so I have been told."
"E pity we are not dat stupid, oderwise we would be immune." Gui jokes, giving Andromeda a playful poke. "I could help talking to dem."