Nattook

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange: A Denver Nightclub

A wave of relaxation slowly washed over Chris as they talked naturally back and forth to each other and to her. They had known each other for long enough that the conversation flowed smoothly, as well as the little jabs they threw. Lance offered an out, and Chris definitely appreciated that. The explanation by Lance of what a mark was made enough sense that she didn't bother furthering that line of questioning.

She smiled despite herself when James (the burlier one) called the people Lance spent time with strange, and she accepted that she was being a bit of a troublemaker just by being here. The waitress returned once again, and placed a drink in front of James, as well as a second of the same in front of Chris.

James explained what was in the drink, and Chris nodded while eying it carefully. This is supposed to be my reward for sneaking in, I suppose, She thought. An idea formed as she watched Jaunt have his first sip of his drink. She leaned across the table, plucking it out of his hands and sliding her drink across the table to him. As she leaned across the table, her sweatshirt down around the neckline, revealing a blue t-shirt that clung non too tightly to her underdeveloped breasts. The sight couldn't really be considered sexual.

It felt like something a secret agent would do, and a smile formed as Chris confidently tasted from the newly acquired drink. It was. . . surprisingly good, the kind of drink that seemed deceptive in its alcohol content. Two glasses of this would probably see her tipsy, though it'd be a little difficult to convince either of them to buy her another she'd guess.

Remembering what James said about being impressed by her entrance, she smiled as a story formed in her mind. "That bouncer must be half blind, I just slipped in behind him as he was checking someone else’s ID." Her tone had gone from suspicious, to confident and a bit sassy. Chris's voice was nice to listen to, and she had an almost rhythmic way of speaking, though she sometimes enunciated words poorly.

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

A voice called up at the caped crusaders gathered on the rooftop, and Celia smiled a bit. No more planning then, just action. "I'll take the ground floor," She said as she started running towards the edge that the voice had come up from. She jumped at what her processor told her was the best moment, going for distance rather than height.

She cut deftly through the air, landing the couple stories below with a calculated roll, finishing her roll, by closing the distance by sprinting. Once she was close enough she launched herself at him in a improptu tackle. If she succeeded, Celia would lean back off of him, and use her hands to shove his head at the asphalt just hard enough to knock him out without leaving him concussed. That was wishful thinking at best, as concussions were hard to predict and prevent when injuring someone's head.

If he had prepared an overhead pickaxe swing while she was sprinting at him, she would instead launch herself off to the left side in a defensive maneuver. While he recovered, she would rush back in to deliver a swift kick to the head, hoping to knock him out in one.

If he avoided the tackle, she would try her best to recover with a roll and prepare for any counterattack he could offer. She devoted one of her secondary processors to listen for any backups approaching her regardless of the outcome. It was best to keep the fights one-on-one, but the android could certainly defeat two people at the same time if push came to shove.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange: A Denver Nightclub

A sentence Chris had heard more than a couple times was spoken at her as a man sat down next to her. He was easygoing, teasing her about her age, her red hair, her stature, but in a nonconfrontational way. The man skipped the 'are we friends?' phase and went immediately to poking fun. At first Chris was worried he was calling over someone to kick her out, but he was just trying to get his drink refilled. As a waitress approached so did a tall black man, who greeted the man- the newcomer called him Lance- in a very similar way to how Chris had been greeted. He also commented on her age, which would've drawn a rude comment if not for the second sentence. Was she a mark? That sounded like something a pickpocket would call a target, or an assassin a victim or. . .

"What's a mark?" She asked, watching the two men carefully. Her voice was just loud enough to be heard, sounding strained and a little scared.

Where before Chris had automatically sacrificed person space without thinking, now she scooted away from Lance, eyeing him carefully. Her purse was still on her shoulder, zipped shut, and was it just her imagination or had the newcomer eyed it? A million eyes were suddenly on Chris, and she resisted the urge to pull her hood over her head. Her hand reached up, her thumb and index rubbing the material of her jacket between her fingers as she watched the two men. An exit plan started to form, a way to escape without getting chased, how she would twist their minds until they were useless.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange: A Denver Nightclub

A cold wind whipped against Chris's hoodie, cutting through it like a hot knife cuts air. She had been standing in line to enter this club for a while now, her head facing down, with a dull grey purse resting comfortably against her hip. The light hung above her at a sharp angle and shadowed her face well, but she wasn't taking any chances; The demon mask rested against her face comfortably, a secondary measure. It wouldn't matter when she got to the bouncer. Chris lifted her head slightly, locking onto an older woman's face as she walked to the back of the line for the club. Chris memorized details as quickly as possible. Sharp cheek bones, purple lip gloss, a thick forehead, she locked onto all the shallow details and kept the face in her head. The older woman didn't even notice, and the person in front of Chris entered the club. The young girl stepped forward, slipping a blank slip of plastic out of her pocket, and offered it to the man with her head down. He reached out, and the second Chris's fingers brushed his hand his world was slightly changed.

He saw her lean back, taking her hand away and looking up at him. The face on the 'ID' she handed him matched hers. She was middle aged, with makeup that exaggerated a few of her best qualities. He also noticed her height, but it matched the valid ID. Plenty of girls were shorter than her so he waved her through with a gruff greeting. In actuality as soon as their hands touched, she had grabbed his wrist, and held it there. He tried to move it to his face to see the white piece of plastic better under the light, but it was a slow movement that she didn't allow him to make. She hid this action from the woman behind her with her body, blocking the view well enough. He was certain he had inspected the ID regardless of the truth of the situation. She took back her slip of plastic, and let her fingers stay on his wrist lightly as she walked past him, before letting go once she was behind his back. He would have a movement of confusion and dizziness as the illusion faded, the positioning of his body being slightly different than a moment ago, but she doubted he would think about it too long. Hoped more than doubted actually.

Now she was gliding, giddy with excitement as she slipped her mask off in the entrance way to the club, and slipped it into her bag. Strobe lights flashed high above her, and it was intoxicating. The dance floor was filled with people, every one of them inches from each other. This was what she could do with her power, go anywhere she wanted, and be anyone she wanted. She scooted the edge of the dance floor, and sat down on one of the many couches that outlined the room. Drunk couples, and strangers alike were pressed against each other aplenty, but she chose an empty couch instead of interrupting any of the one night stands. A glass was on the table that each of these couches had, with what looked like a small amount of whiskey in the bottom. Chris took a small drink, trying her best to seem natural, which was kind of working for once. The drink was disgusting Chris realized and coughed a bit. Smooth.

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

Decoy took his sweet time, but Celia forgave him regardless. His response was vastly disappointing, and the steel wall of his encrypted database didn't allow her further entry. She took her time responding, and expected Decoy to be more disappointed in her response than she was in him. She didn't pull up anymore files, or check any other resources on the interface platform that her minor operating system was using, but instead sent a message back.

c17: That's quite a shame; you're either lying or useless in this regard. I don't know which is worse, honestly. Thank you for your help.

That message was the lest sent before she went completely silent, essentially leaving the chatroom. She hopped off the fly along with G4M3R and Artificer, and listened to their leader speak as she leaned over the edge of the west side of building. Celia considered the drop for a second, before looking back at the gathered parahumans. She considered the situation closely, wondering what the best plan of attack would be for the group. It was quite a difficult calculation, and there were too many unknowns to evaluate every single option. Celia would prefer to attack from the ground floor, with a teammate, while the others went from roof down. IT would trap their prey if done correctly, but she felt like suggesting a plan like that might overstep her boundaries as a new member. Instead she settled for sitting on the edge of the roof precariously, and watching her teammates come up with plans of their own.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange

None

Name: Chris Lange
Alias: None
Age: 15
Alignment: Villain
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Chris has long, thick, red hair, somewhere between wavy and straight. It rests just above her lower back when not tied up. She normally keeps it in a ponytail, if its even visible within the dark green hoodie she normally wears. Chris is pretty short, standing at 5' 2", with a very young face befitting her age. Her normal expression around strangers is obvious discomfort, and she has a hard time warming up to people.

Chris is only touchy with people she wants to manipulate, of whom the number is expanding. Chrissie is noticeably thinner than most girls her age. Chris's ethnicity seems to be Irish, and her face is without freckles unlike her fathers. She very recently created a mask out of paper mache to hide her identity if need be. The mask is a bright red mixed with striking blacks, and looks to be a demons face. She sometimes carries it in her purse, though it is a bit bulky and she has been known to leave it at home.
History: Chris grew up in a middle class family in Denver her entire life, with a caring father and a mother. Though her father very rarely talked about it, he was in fact a super powered individual, though his power was fairly innocuous. The basic set of better sight, balance and the rest. He never had any aspirations of being a cape, and didn't so much settle for mediocrity but preferred it. The expression of his power was found in the minutest details, such as pointing out owls that were very hard to make out on a cold night, or catching a jar of jelly Chris accidentally bumped off the table.

Her mother on the other hand was not super powered in the slightest (through Chris's comments about her being super bitchy could be misinterpreted). Her mother was a drinker, but not in the fun party kind of way, but in the not so fun, drinks and abuses the gentle giant that is Chris's 6' 4" father. In this way, Chris's father's gentle nature got the best of both him and his daughter, forcing her to grow up in a less than ideal situation. At the point where panic attacks becoming a major issue for Chris, her father divorced Chris's mother. Too little too late, though Chris would never admit it.

Schooling went rather poorly for Chris as she never applied herself, or found within herself the motivation to succeed though she did keep high enough grades to pass her classes if just barely. Slowly Chris developed a tight knit group of friends that she could enjoy the presence of. They'd always see her as the outsider of the group, and she didn't seem to mind.

Beginning around January of 2005, when Chris's mother started 'stalking' her. The disgruntled parent ended up kidnapping Chris. causing her to trigger. The direct personal relationship, mixed with the direct nature of the threat greatly influenced the expression of her father's power. Where enhancement of physical and mental prowess was the name of the game for her father, Chris's power revolved around manipulating others senses, and changing their perception of the world, After Chris's trigger, she got a hand on her mother and forced her to crash the vehicle, killing her mother on impact, and leaving herself (fortunately) unharmed.

The adaption to home life after her trigger event was hard, and she didn't find herself confiding in her father like she thought she would. Instead she kept it a secret, and started rebelling more in general, putting undue pressure on her father. The only kind of crimes she has committed involve gaining entry to clubs she normally wouldn't be allowed to enter. As such she hasn't gotten a cape name, though she has been getting more adventurous with her power usage recently.

Personality

Motivations: Chris takes part in her villainous ways as a sort of catharsis, using the heinous (and less than heinous) acts as an outlet for her stress.
Sexuality: Chris hasn't quite developed her sexuality fully. She is experimental right now.
Likes:

• Scary movies
• Socializing with close friends
• Traditional hip-hop
• The Beatles
• Paper mache

Dislikes:

• School
• 'Fake' friends
• Disingenuous people
• Jocks

Derangement: Chris sometimes has a hard time grasping what is real and what isn't. This can vary in intensity from becoming a little off balance to full grown panic attacks. This is mixed with, in an ironic fashion, hallucinations of her own. Chris takes Xanax every morning to try to combat this, and carries a couple extras just in case she feels a panic attack coming on.

Parahumanism

Skills: Chris has fairly decent memory, and has gotten pretty good at deceiving people. She has been practicing her sleight of hand, and is able to easily socially engineer most people into letting her touch them, even if it's only the slightest brush.
Classification: Stranger and striker
Details: Chris can, upon creating physical contact with a person's clothes or body, make them hallucinate. These hallucinations are precise, and can be molded to fit what Chris wants to achieve. She can force one to experience touch, vision, kinesthetic, and auditorial hallucinations with pin point accuracy to their real life counter parts. Once she touches you, unless you know what is coming, she has hijacked your brain for her insane joyride.

Chris can also remove sensations, making it seem like she stopped touching the person, or remove the pain from a bullet wound. Chris has a very slight thinker ability, in the way that she can multitask for each person she is forcing to hallucinate, though the individuals hallucinations do suffer in quality because of this.
Limitations: Although Chris goes to agonizing lengths to ensure her hallucinations are accurate, she is severely limited in terms of control. She can't literally force someone to move, speak, or anything of that sort. At best she inspires reactions, and doesn't create them. Chris's hallucinations also immediately stop once contact ends, with practically zero time between.

These limitations mean that once she starts making someone hallucinate something complex or especially dangerous, she has to get a very good grip on them, and be prepared for them to fall. Though it may seem to the person she is touching that they have been pushed back thirty feet into a wall, in reality they're flailing around on the ground.

Chris also has a hard time creating things from scratch. She can choose to make a feeling persist (like the sensation of her victim standing on their feet looking down a corridor not going away while their being handcuffed), she can't make the feeling of being shot with a laser perfectly accurate.

As a final point, Chris can make multiple people hallucinate at once, though this will quickly lead to a backfire and a massive headache. The longest she has managed to maintain a hallucination is thirty minutes, at which point she started to develop a headache. This time limit exponentially lowers the more people she is forcing to hallucinate, and the accuracy of the hallucinations suffer as well. If she uses her power for thirty minutes in one day she will start to develop a headache, and if she persists her power will backfire, leading to migraines, loss of consciousness, and dizziness.
Equipment: A straight razor, and a garrote she made out of piano wire and two pieces of wood.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange

None

Name: Chris Lange
Alias: None
Age: 15
Alignment: Villain
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Chris has long, thick, red hair, somewhere between wavy and straight. It rests just above her lower back when not tied up. She normally keeps it in a ponytail, if its even visible within the dark green hoodie she normally wears. Chris is pretty short, standing at 5' 2", with a very young face befitting her age. Her normal expression around strangers is obvious discomfort, and she has a hard time warming up to people.

Chris is only touchy with people she wants to manipulate, of whom the number is expanding. Chrissie is noticeably thinner than most girls her age. Chris's ethnicity seems to be Irish, and her face is without freckles unlike her fathers. She very recently created a mask out of paper mache to hide her identity if need be. The mask is a bright red mixed with striking blacks, and looks to be a demons face. She sometimes carries it in her purse, though it is a bit bulky and she has been known to leave it at home.
History: Chris grew up in a middle class family in Denver her entire life, with a caring father and a mother. Though her father very rarely talked about it, he was in fact a super powered individual, though his power was fairly innocuous. The basic set of better sight, balance and the rest. He never had any aspirations of being a cape, and didn't so much settle for mediocrity but preferred it. The expression of his power was found in the minutest details, such as pointing out owls that were very hard to make out on a cold night, or catching a jar of jelly Chris accidentally bumped off the table.

Her mother on the other hand was not super powered in the slightest (through Chris's comments about her being super bitchy could be misinterpreted). Her mother was a drinker, but not in the fun party kind of way, but in the not so fun, drinks and abuses the gentle giant that is Chris's 6' 4" father. In this way, Chris's father's gentle nature got the best of both him and his daughter, forcing her to grow up in a less than ideal situation. At the point where panic attacks becoming a major issue for Chris, her father divorced Chris's mother. Too little too late, though Chris would never admit it.

Schooling went rather poorly for Chris as she never applied herself, or found within herself the motivation to succeed though she did keep high enough grades to pass her classes if just barely. Slowly Chris developed a tight knit group of friends that she could enjoy the presence of. They'd always see her as the outsider of the group, and she didn't seem to mind.

Beginning around January of 2005, when Chris's mother started 'stalking' her. The disgruntled parent ended up kidnapping Chris. causing her to trigger. The direct personal relationship, mixed with the direct nature of the threat greatly influenced the expression of her father's power. Where enhancement of physical and mental prowess was the name of the game for her father, Chris's power revolved around manipulating others senses, and changing their perception of the world, After Chris's trigger, she got a hand on her mother and forced her to crash the vehicle, killing her mother on impact, and leaving herself (fortunately) unharmed.

The adaption to home life after her trigger event was hard, and she didn't find herself confiding in her father like she thought she would. Instead she kept it a secret, and started rebelling more in general, putting undue pressure on her father. The only kind of crimes she has committed involve gaining entry to clubs she normally wouldn't be allowed to enter. As such she hasn't gotten a cape name, though she has been getting more adventurous with her power usage recently.

Personality

Motivations: Chris takes part in her villainous ways as a sort of catharsis, using the heinous (and less than heinous) acts as an outlet for her stress.
Sexuality: Chris hasn't quite developed her sexuality fully. She is experimental right now.
Likes:

• Scary movies
• Socializing with close friends
• Traditional hip-hop
• The Beatles
• Paper mache

Dislikes:

• School
• 'Fake' friends
• Disingenuous people
• Jocks

Derangement: Chris sometimes has a hard time grasping what is real and what isn't. This can vary in intensity from becoming a little off balance to full grown panic attacks. This is mixed with, in an ironic fashion, hallucinations of her own. Chris takes Xanax every morning to try to combat this, and carries a couple extras just in case she feels a panic attack coming on.

Parahumanism

Skills: Chris has fairly decent memory, and has gotten pretty good at deceiving people. She has been practicing her sleight of hand, and is able to easily socially engineer most people into letting her touch them, even if it's only the slightest brush.
Classification: Stranger and striker
Details: Chris can, upon creating physical contact with a person's clothes or body, make them hallucinate. These hallucinations are precise, and can be molded to fit what Chris wants to achieve. She can force one to experience touch, vision, kinesthetic, and auditorial hallucinations with pin point accuracy to their real life counter parts. Once she touches you, unless you know what is coming, she has hijacked your brain for her insane joyride.

Chris can also remove sensations, making it seem like she stopped touching the person, or remove the pain from a bullet wound. Chris has a very slight thinker ability, in the way that she can multitask for each person she is forcing to hallucinate, though the individuals hallucinations do suffer in quality because of this.
Limitations: Although Chris goes to agonizing lengths to ensure her hallucinations are accurate, she is severely limited in terms of control. She can't literally force someone to move, speak, or anything of that sort. At best she inspires reactions, and doesn't create them. Chris's hallucinations also immediately stop once contact ends, with practically zero time between.

These limitations mean that once she starts making someone hallucinate something complex or especially dangerous, she has to get a very good grip on them, and be prepared for them to fall. Though it may seem to the person she is touching that they have been pushed back thirty feet into a wall, in reality they're flailing around on the ground.

Chris also has a hard time creating things from scratch. She can choose to make a feeling persist (like the sensation of her victim standing on their feet looking down a corridor not going away while their being handcuffed), she can't make the feeling of being shot with a laser perfectly accurate.

As a final point, Chris can make multiple people hallucinate at once, though this will quickly lead to a backfire and a massive headache. The longest she has managed to maintain a hallucination is thirty minutes, at which point she started to develop a headache. This time limit exponentially lowers the more people she is forcing to hallucinate, and the accuracy of the hallucinations suffer as well. If she uses her power for thirty minutes in one day she will start to develop a headache, and if she persists her power will backfire, leading to migraines, loss of consciousness, and dizziness.
Equipment: A straight razor, and a garrote she made out of piano wire and two pieces of wood.

She has been edited a bit, and I will post her in the CS tab as I was given permission =D
The changes are:
Costume' added in the way of a mask that she made out of paper mache, cape name not yet decided on.
Limitation added explaining how her power affects multiple people, and added a flaw to using it too often.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chris Lange

None

Name: Chris Lange
Alias: None
Age: 15
Alignment: Villain
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Chris has long, thick, red hair, somewhere between wavy and straight. It rests just above her lower back when not tied up. She normally keeps it in a ponytail, if its even visible within the dark green hoodie she normally wears. Chris is pretty short, standing at 5' 2", with a very young face befitting her age. Her normal expression around strangers is obvious discomfort, and she has a hard time warming up to people. She is only touchy with people she wants to manipulate, of whom the number is expanding. Chrissie is noticeably thinner than most girls her age.
History: Chris grew up in a middle class family in Denver her entire life, with a caring father and a mother. Though her father very rarely talked about it, he was in fact a super powered individual, though his power was fairly innocuous. The basic set of better sight, balance and the rest. He never had any aspirations of being a cape, and didn't so much settle for mediocrity but preferred it. The expression of his power was found in the minutest details, such as pointing out owls that were very hard to make out in a cold night, or catching a jar of jelly Chris accidentally bumped off the table.

Her mother on the other hand was not super powered in the slightest (through Chris's comments about her being super bitchy could be misinterpreted). Her mother was a drinker, but not in the fun party kind of way, but in the not so fun, drinks and abuses the gentle giant that is Chris's 6' 4" father. In this way, Chris's father's gentle nature got the best of both him and his daughter, forcing her to grow up in a less than ideal situation. At the point where panic attacks becoming a major issue for Chris, her father divorced Chris's mother. Too little too late, though Chris would never admit it.

Schooling went rather poorly for Chris as she never applied herself, or found within herself the motivation to succeed though she did keep high enough grades to pass her classes if just barely. Slowly Chris developed a tight knit group of friends that she could enjoy the presence of. They'd always see her as the outsider of the group, and she didn't seem to mind.

Beginning around January of 2005, when Chris's mother started 'stalking' her. The disgruntled parent ended up kidnapping Chris. causing her to trigger. The direct personal relationship, mixed with the direct nature of the threat greatly influenced the expression of her father's power. Where enhancement of physical and mental prowess was the name of the game for her father, Chris's power revolved around manipulating others senses, and changing their perception of the world, After Chris's trigger, she got a hand on her mother and forced her to crash the vehicle, killing her mother on impact, and leaving herself (fortunately unharmed).

The adaption to home life after her trigger event was hard, and she didn't find herself confiding in her father like she thought she would. Instead she kept it a secret, and started rebelling more in general, putting undue pressure on her father.

Personality

Motivations: Chris takes part in her villainous ways as a sort of catharsis, using the heinous (and less than heinous) acts as an outlet for her stress.
Sexuality: Chris hasn't quite developed her sexuality fully. She is experimental right now.
Likes:

• Scary movies
• Socializing with close friends
• Traditional hip-hop
• The Beatles

Dislikes:

• School
• 'Fake' friends
• Disingenuous people
• Jocks

Derangement: Chris sometimes has a hard time grasping what is real and what isn't. This can vary in intensity from becoming a little off balance to full grown panic attacks. This is mixed with, in an ironic fashion, hallucinations of her own. Chris takes Xanax every morning to try to combat this, and carries a couple extras just in case she feels a panic attack coming on.

Parahumanism

Skills: Chris has fairly decent memory, and has gotten pretty good at deceiving people. She has been practicing her sleight of hand, and is able to easily socially engineer most people into letting her touch them, even if it's only the slightest brush.
Classification: Stranger and striker
Details: Chris can, upon creating physical contact with a person's clothes or body, make them hallucinate. These hallucinations are precise, and can be molded to fit what Chris wants to achieve. She can force one to experience touch, vision, kinesthetic, and auditorial hallucinations with pin point accuracy to their real life counter parts. Once she touches you, unless you know what is coming, she has hijacked your brain for her insane joyride. Chris can also remove sensations, making it seem like she stopped touching the person, or remove the pain from a bullet wound.
Limitations: Although Chris goes to agonizing lengths to ensure her hallucinations are accurate, she is severely limited in terms of control. She can't literally force someone to move, speak, or anything of that sort. At best she inspires reactions, and doesn't create them. Chris's hallucinations also immediately stop once contact ends, with practically zero time between.

These limitations mean that once she starts making someone hallucinate something complex or especially dangerous, she has to get a very good grip on them, and be prepared for them to fall. Though it may seem to the person she is touching that they have been pushed back thirty feet into a wall, in reality they're flailing around on the ground.

Chris also has a hard time creating things from scratch. She can choose to make a feeling persist (like the sensation of her victim standing on their feet looking down a corridor not going away while their being handcuffed), she can't make the feeling of being shot with a laser perfectly accurate.
Equipment: Straight razor, and a garrote she made out of piano wire and two pieces of wood.

All feedback is appreciated.

Small thing, she'll probably go by Chrissie.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

Celia joined the two (boys?) on the fly as she read the responses from Decoy. As he responded a nudging thought at the end of her consciousness appeared. It was a nagging voice, a small will. It was a- a program. A little malicious virus, built in machine. He-Decoy, Decoy thought her base systems read machine. The safer assumption, that her system was in binary was very fair. She wasn't, that's how she broke encryption so fast to begin with, but regardless he had used a day zero exploit on her. It was almost touching. Touching enough that she designated the interface protocol used by that secondary system "Decoy" and reserved it for the time being. She would tunnel relevant but not incriminating queries through that system, and even slow it down to human speeds.

Visible to Decoy's virus, she opened a file structure and sent him two pictures. They were grainy, poor quality pictures of a woman in a black suit. In one her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and she wasn't looking at the camera. She was walking through a city with a definite urgency about her. The metadata of the picture showed it had been cropped, and listed the original resolution as being much higher. The second picture was of what could be safely assumed to be the same woman, this time with her hair down. It was a picture of the woman with her hand on her bowler hat, kicking a gun from a mobster's hand in the opposite direction of the camera. Her foot was a blur, and her eyes weren't visible on the picture, though the suit was the same. This picture hadn't been cropped, and was slightly high quality because of it. If Decoy was in the know, which he almost certainly was in Celia's mind, he would recognize her as Contessa. After sending the pictures, Celia followed it up with another message.

c17: I helped you with this because I wanted you to help me identify someone. Who is the person in the picture? It should have been easy to find out, but it's been near impossible.

As Celia responded she studied the "Minutemen" she was riding with. She was leaning back a bit, keeping her balance by keeping her hands on the back of the fly. As she watched their progress, suddenly G4M3R turned back to her and winked. She tilted her head in confusion, wondering what had happened. She remembered he had been jiggling with his ear things, and recalled they could read signals. She started to ramp down the electrical signals she was emitting, slowing them until she went into receive only mode. She was basically just waiting for a response from Decoy at this point. She moved one of her primary systems into analyzing the building, making a 3D model and trying her best to create realistic guesses about its internal layout. As they began their descent Celia wrapped her arms around G4M3R, and spoke into his ear device. "Are we going to come in at different angles, or just all attack from the top floor?"

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

As the young woman finished speaking, Jaunt seemed to slowly make up his mind. He leaned back a bit on his heels, and then disappeared, reappearing a moment later directly in front of her. Her hand instinctively went to her knife, pulling it from its sheath, and pointing it at Jaunt’s right shoulder, her left hand behind the back of it. At the slightest inclination she would thrust it forward, disabling that limb. Right as she finished preparing herself he disappeared, and Celia was left with an unfortunate realization.

Celia had revealed a bit too much about herself. She kind of revealed her reaction time, but also her general speed. With a sheepish smile she slipped her knife back into its sheath, and went back to her interaction with Decoy. She watched those around her carefully, not sure what they would think.

The first step, establishing the handshake with the server proved to be very difficult. A small breath instinctively escaped her lips as she resigned another core processor to the task, and even then it took about ten seconds. Soon millions of attempts at cracking the encryption were being sent every second, but once it was cracked she began the fun. Unfortunately her best attempts only brought down their Internet connection for a second or two before the tactic failed. The moment Decoy responded Celia stopped all her malicious activity. Decoy offered up an encrypted chat channel, and she paused before responding. It had an option to choose a username, and so she did.

C17: I have information about a missing person, and I think it might interest you.

After the message was sent, a file was also sent that contained the unencrypted and encrypted version of the message Celia had intercepted. Celia checked on the conversation between Kyoshi and a stranger. A girl, who claimed her sister was Wisp, was talked to Kyoshi about a problem with the Rockers. As the conversation finished Celia looked over at Outsider, who said he would give the team a test drive. The android considered it for a second, before deciding that she would also want to try and join given the opportunity. It probably wasn’t going to be a permanent thing, but she would have to see.

Kyoshi spoke up, explaining to G4M3R who had called and what about. Artificer impressed Celia a bit by seeming eager to help, and she took a second to reconsider the label she gave him of being a coward. G4M3R suddenly turned to her, and said something under his breath about something (maybe her?) being weird. He then continued by asking if she’d like to join. Celia frowned a bit at his reasoning. She bit back a comment about how making the group sexier wouldn’t help with him present, and nodded instead. “Sure, I’d be fine with that.” She said, turning to Kyoshi as she spoke up and offered a ride, Outsider took her up on the offer, and Celia turned to Artificer. “Do you mind if I ride with you? Or will I have to follow on foot? I don’t mind either way.” She said, figuring it was a bit late to hold back everything about her powers.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

Celia's attenton shifted back to the obscene creature s it began speaking, claiming it wasn't a threat. It was oddly distant, not quite originating directly from the creature. It resonated from around him, which was more than a little unsettling. In slight contrast to its unsettling voice, it said that it was not a threat. It continued, making sure to note that it was not in fact an endbringer, though Celia had already assumed that. No endbringers had spoke so far, excluding the occasional singing.

In an instant the creature had disappeared, and in its place a young man. She eyed him up and down quickly, searching the various forums for anyone matching his description. It was a no go, though Celia did begin compiling a 3D image of him as she watched. In the mean time, she decided to make it known what had been going on with Jaunt. She brought one two of her major processors, and one minor online, and sent a message to the main connection the protectorate had to the internet. The server meant to process the request wouldn't understand the message (unless Decoy deemed it fit to) though it would take a small amount of processing power to read the request. The message read in plain english "Open up a line of communication to this IP."

After verifying the message had gone through, she started a full blown DoS attack, sending millions of requests a second. Every time she was blocked she changed IP addresses and kept going. If it persisted for long enough everyone in the PRT's various facilities would lose access to the internet, which could have major repercussions. She doubted Decoy would left it go on for anywhere near that long. She didn't even consider the fact that DoS's were highly illegal.

Furnace's clap refocused her attention, and she smiled a bit after she processed it. G4M3R instantly invited Outsider to join the team, and for good reason. Suddenly another signal buzzed through the air, and Kyoshi picked up her phone. Celia considered the idea of privacy for a second, before eavesdropping anyways; she left one of her secondary systems to record the encrypted conversation. Artificer tried to argue the point of Outsider joining for less than a sentence before conceding the authority.

Celia's attention suddenly snapped onto G4M3R as she realized that he might be able to pick up the white noise she was transmitting at the PRT right now. After Outsider finished talking, Celia spoke up. "Sorry to interrupt the introductions, but I think Jaunt here has been holding out on us. He just recently received an offer for two-hundred-million US dollars, payable by a certain Russian mafia, for the capture of one female minor." Her tone started out as an accusation before turning to one of disgust. She had a feeling most present would object.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Celia Clarke: Denver Streets

Furnace reacted quickly, snapping out his baton and swinging it at Jaunt in one smooth motion. Her hand twitched as she decided to stop the weapon midair, but changed her mind an instant later. The hero shifted back, apologizing to Jaunt for the sudden reaction. He continued, claiming he knew a few things about Jaunt via the wikia, and that he was on edge. At Celia's question Furnace stated his curiousity before continuing the general thought. Furnace's eyes shifted past Jaunt, and focused on something behind the tall man. Celia turned her head quickly as Furnace interrupted himself to stare at the serpent. Again Celia reacted too quickly to things around her. Jaunt laughed to himself, seeming amused by the thought that anyone here was a high enough priority that they'd have a bounty. Furnace gave out a quick warning to the creature, seeming scared. He whispered to himself a small prayer that the creature wasn't another Endbringer. The Simurgh had put most on edge.

Kyoshi didn't seem too on edge, and even called out to it in a friendly manner. Artificer reacted differently, seeming concerned for their safety. His terrified response to Jaunt's appearance, and his reaction now would lead Celia to label him a bit of a coward. She was being a bit unfair, as she didn't know him that well, but he had been the only one to suggest fleeing. Even Jaunt hadn't, which was a bit surprising. Maybe curiosity was getting the best of self preservation?

All her analyses of the known Endbringer's appearances and mannerisms seemed to indicate that it wasn't to be labeled as such. If she had to give it a number, which she did, it was about 16% chance of the trend breaking. Might as well be 100% for all the damage this serpent could do if it was an Endbringer. Though it was a bit illogical, she rested her hand on the combat knife in its holster. It was strangely comforting, if not useless against the Endbringer-esque abomination before her. She felt an encrypted cell signal buzz through the air, as Jaunt's phone went off. Celia decrypted it almost instantly, and was surprised by the contents. A very heft bounty was being offered for the capture of a young girl in the area. Celia's head snapped around to stare at Jaunt as he began reading the message. Once the situation with the Endbringer deescalated she would inform everyone of the message's contents. His lack of reaction to the message put Celia even further on edge, as that seemed it indicate he wasn't surprised to by the job. Celia began studying human trafficking as her eyes were fixed on his (as best she could with his face shield on).