RavensMuse

Trinity City of Heroes

Katherine listened quietly to the Gammas around her speak of the attack, and hint at potential leads. She felt Lorelei's voice finally start trailing around the edges of her conscious thoughts.

"Sing like you mean it, and you can ask them for help..."

Katherine nodded, to nobody in particular, "I understand." She reached into the beat up canvas messenger and withdrew a small vial of black ink. It seemed to shimmer various colors as the light struck it, first red, then green, next orange. The ink almost seemed to dance within the glass container. Katherine quickly piled up various meats, and desserts upon her plate before returning to her seat. She gingerly opened the vial, her voice began shaky at first, before eventually reaching a simple melody.

"All I want is a little music with some soul, not some boring shades of grey, now cast your shackles away. Sing like you mean it, sing like your feeling something...."

The little bottle of ink began to shudder as her voice caressed the bottle, a few simple burbles and the bottle toppled onto it's side. The ink began to pool upon the table, in much greater quantities then what the bottle should contain. The song continued as the ink went from a liquid to what almost could be a jelly, ballooning up before the colors began to separate. Katherine's song continued as she called forth her constructs from the prison inside her mind.

"Now throw your broken shackles away!"

With that final note, the ink began to take form and shape, splitting off into three separate blobs before gaining more definition. With that, the legion of inklings took shape. They were odd little creatures, strange little masks, with oddly long arms and legs, and too cute eyes that seemed to take in Katherine before looking about. The larger of the trio, with a wolf mask looked towards her before squawking a greeting.

"Greetings! Lady of Ink and Delicious Chocolate Snacks! How may we, the humble inklings assist you!" It's voice seemed to dwarf Katherine's singing, almost causing a reverb through the tent. Katherine pulled her duster around her, the gold stitching almost shining from within the shadows of her jacket.

"I need your help, I will offer you this plate of meat and sugar." The inklings looked towards the plate before the three put their masks together. A series of whispers and chattering bounced between the little creatures before the leader stuck it's head up.

"The offering, it is acceptable!" The trio crowed. Katherine bowed her head as they began to divvy up their loot. "What can we assist the Lady of Ink and Delicious Chocolate Snacks with?" The lead inkling chirped between bites. Katherine felt a smile creep across her lips as she watched the constructs refer to her by their first encounter when she formed them from her ability. She was idly doodling while eating the complementary studio chocolates. They didn't know much else, but chose to adopt the title as a form of religious relevance for her.

"There was an attack, people were hurt. I want you to search the area, for anyone who may have heard or recognized something that may have not been there, weapon casings, or if you feel any hints of power, I want to know." She asked, quietly and with her head still down. The lead inkling nodded, as it processed her request.

"We will begin our search Lady of Ink! Will you be summoning the Winged Lady of "Please shut them up" if we need to do battle with the foe?" Katherine shook her head, tapping the canvas bag.

"Lorelei is not needed, if you are in danger, please return to me and I'll call her forth." The Inklings, feeling full from their dinner of meat and desserts saluted Katherine, before quickly nabbing anything they could use to make new movie themed costumes from before scurrying off. As the others looked at Katherine in a mixture of confusion and shock, "they are often quieter then they appear." She bowed her head, returning to her hot cocoa.

Lorelei's voice seemed to go quiet for now, if the action had forced her to take an observing role, or she simply felt that Katherine had finally begun to take action quieted the lightning inside.

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

Grace listened carefully, noting locations and the men's mention of HQ.

Anna had already scampered up onto the first man's horse. She looked white knuckled as she gripped onto the beast for dear life. She felt a pang of guilt, and a quick read of these men looked on the level. However, she refused to leave Anna in a camp that may or may not be on the level. She heard the chatter about a horde over the walkies, her jaw tightening at the mention of that number of infected. Thankfully the scarf she kept around her lower face kept the obvious notes of her anxiety concealed.

"I'll tag along, I keep my weapons. Any area with the white wings means I've got traps rigged up, I'll point out if we're close." She muttered briskly, before taking the man's arm and getting up on the horse. She felt a little uneasy, but if there was any truth to the rumors of that many infected. She had a chance to fight, and maybe finally, end."

Grace, the Saint, was tired. Yet she felt somehow it was a disservice to her fiance and those who fell fighting to simply let it end. She's go out, in a barrel of gunfire and vengeance before that would happen. Till then, there were lives that needed saving.

The Saint still had work to do...

Anna looked towards Grace nervously, as the riders made for HQ.

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

Grace eyed the man on horseback carefully. Her sunglasses hiding her hesitation at going with the man. Anna almost sighed in relief at the sight of someone in military attire. To her, military meant safety, sanctuary, not running from bandits, toxos and everything else.

"I'm Anna, please, I just got away from some bandits, they were taking me to a place called Market. Is there somewhere we can rest?" Grace looked about as Anna talked about how she was saved by the Grace, the Saint.

Grace, looked about cautiously for any bandits, toxos or zombies that happened to hear her frenzied conversation. She looked as Anna's voice caught her attention again. This woman was too loud, she needed to get into sanctuary before long. Grace pulled the heavy dusters hood up to try and muffle her own irritation at the noise. Finally, she spoke up.

"My name's Grace, some survivors out here have given me the nickname "Saint." Can you get Anna here somewhere safe, I could use some rations, then I'll be on my way." She spoke quietly, and pointedly. She didn't like being exposed this long...

Vinehurst High

As she continued sketching, Irene watched as the masses began to file into the halls.

Of course, she had a knack for being invisible. Often this was a benefit, she was just the artist, she liked having her art speak for her. Putting her head down, she continued working on her next piece. A massive crash elicited a small squeak from her as she looked up.

One of the jocks had pinned someone against the lockers, she looked about for a teacher, or someone who could actually stop this.

Of course, nobody was there. Irene felt her pulse quicken as she heard the sickening sound of the jock punching the student, and the sight of everyone crowding around the injured boy. Irene slipped past the students as she realized the others were dissipating. She noticed another student had come to help the lanky boy up, Irene realized it was Kurt who'd gotten into the fight. She'd seen him in a few classes, he blended in just like she did.

"Are you okay?" she asked as the other student, she realized was Brody was helping him to his feet. Irene looked at Kurt worried, he was really really pale. Maybe he needed something? What was it you gave people who donated blood again? Irene looked at Kurt, concerned and trying to figure out how to help. "Need a drink or something?" Irene asked, fidgeting her fingers against the sketchbook as she realized, she was really really useless in a situation like this....

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

Finally got an intro, she's free game for anyone to find while they're out walking!

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

Screams, that's the way the dream begins every time..

Grace, positioned atop the snipers nest awaited the next toxo to stick their head in her sights. Exhale, squeeze the trigger with both fingers, allow recoil. The Dragonuv barked fire, and the toxo's head snapped back at an odd angle as gore splattered against his closest comrades.

Where was he? Grace thought to herself as she searched the crowd. Her fiance had chosen the beefy combat shotgun, and putting himself in the front line to show those creeps this was their sanctuary. Nobody elses! He relied on her to keep him safe from above, she was his guardian angel. The battered brown duster with the bright stitched wings stuck out against the fire, steadying herself, Grace snapped another shot off. This time, the toxo's throat exploaded in a shower of viscera. Grace continued this pattern, shoot, load, shoot load, until she heard the same sound signifying her dream was coming to an and. The homemade IED's blinked around two legs of her nest, she prepared to hear the explosion as she watched the man in the angel winged duster fall to the hordes, she wasn't fast enough...squeezing her eyes tightly as possible for what came next.

Instead of the explosion, and the rushing sensation as she fell to the ground, it was a woman's voice...shieking bloody murder

Wait what?

Grace's eyes snapped open as her subconscious reminded her that the event in her dreams happened months ago. Rubbing her eyes as she peered outside her improvised loft, a blown out hotel penthouse. She'd created a makeshift sanctuary by unbolting the stairs leading to the floor, making it impossible for infected to get up to her home. Any idiots who decided to climb up, well, her tripwires had a deadly surprise. Yet, someone was going through her territory? Muttering to herself, Grace began the process to arm herself. A quick weapons check, she was still allright, the 1911 pistol, her collapsible baton, slid into a cargo pocket against her hip, finally, she checked the battle scarred Dragonuv. It was her weapon of choice for the most part, it let her be the avenging angel against those dumb enough to wander into her territory with malice. Drawing the sleeveless, slightly scored winged duster around herself, she picked up the rifle and left her loft.

The woman's voice echoed out against the calm, the man refused to listen. "Boss's orders, you are heading to the market." She began to plead, offering anything she hoped would entice the man to not go through with his original plan. As they passed a pair of bright painted wings on a brick wall, her tone changed.

"The saint..." She muttered softly, the bandit looked at the wings painted on the wall. His laughter carried even farther then the woman's shrieks. Grace's ears rang as she settled on a point to set up her shot.

"The saint? It's a myth! Some fake angel made up as a sign of good luck and protection! He drew out his shotgun and aimed it against the wall with the emblem painted on it. As he squeezed the trigger, a second shot rang out. The man's head snapped forward, spinning his body around and collapsing into a heap. The woman shrieked again, trying to get away from the recently de-brained corpse.

As Grace stepped her, she pushed a lock of brown hair out of her eyes and gave the man a once over to confirm he was dead. She drew a small pocket knife from her pocket, and cutting the woman loose without saying much more. Afterward, Grace turned her back to the woman and began to field strip the bandit's possessions. The woman looked at Grace, and focused on the stitched wings on the back of the brown duster. "Wait, you..you're the saint?" She asked incredulously.

Grace continued to strip the man of his valuables, and nodded. "Best get going before the infected show up. You two weren't quiet..."

The woman stammered for a moment as she composed her thoughts. "Wait, your a hero, you are supposed to help right... My husband, he was caught by them. He left me when I fell through some rotten boards." Grace's grey eyes snapped up as she turned to address the survivor.

"He left you, he's either at the markets, shot, or dead. You need to go," Grace turned away from her, loading a fresh bullet into the chamber of her dragonuv.

"HELP ME!" She shrieked, almost begging.

Grace groaned, cursing softly to herself. "There's a PMC company North of here. Keep to the open areas, watch out for cars, and bandits are loud and usually drunk. Toxos', well, if you find them, I wish you luck. If you get there, tell them you met me, and how you got there. They'll let you in...probably." Grace muttered as she walked back to her hotel slash perch.

She honestly wasn't sure what the PMC's thought of the entire "Saint" myth, mostly survivors that she ran into while scavenging for supplies. She'd often taken bandits out, painting a white set of wings in areas she had covered. Whether it helped, or just gave them a good way to find her, was yet to be seen.

Sighing one more time, Grace grumbled as she saw the woman nervously plod away. Her sniffling worried Grace, she was a scavenger, she'd be a really horrible one. "Hey," Grace called out.

The woman looked nervously towards her again, Grace cursed as she hefted her backpack. "It's about a day's trek, I'll get you within safe range of their last known location and then I'm gone." The woman nearly collapsed from relief as she nodded gingerly. Grace shouldered the rifle as she walked past the woman, "My real names Grace."

"Anna - wait! The Saint's real name is Grace?" She asked incredulously, Grace grinned a little.

"More of the fan of wrath, let's go." The pair set off towards the last known location of the PMC camp, or at least a group of survivors she could drop this woman off with.

Trinity City of Heroes

Katherine, Muse followed in step with the others. She followed the others quietly, her own thoughts a whirl of both her own and the "echos" created by some of her constructs.

Lorelei's voice, initially just a scratching began to form more opaque thoughts. "You know they'll need you to fight," the entity hissed, you need me for this. Muse pushed the thought to the side as she continued, a slender hand pushing her fingers against her temples.

"Yes, when we need to fight. You will be called forth, as promised," her attempt to placate her strongest construct barely kept the psychic pressure Lorelei could exert on Kat left the artist wrapping her duster around her frail body. While her constructs relied on her to provide their sustenance, her duster's nufabric gave her a small boost in turn.

"FOOL! You should let me out now! What if that gamma comes back. You just have a pitiful shield, what can you offer without me?"

Muses' thoughts began to falter, "I have other constructs..." Lorelei's voice giggled softly, as she pulled her head deeper into the hoody. As if the thick fabric would mute the constructs suggestions.

"Fine, just make sure my stencil's ready..." The constructs voice began to fade as Katherine was snapped back by Wendy's request. She was a little shocked as she was requested to lend support. Often other Gamma's simply requested her constructs to battle. Yet Katherine knew she had a subtle calming effect on everyone thanks to her own abilities. It often was mainly applied to focus and direct her constructs, but if it helped. So be it.

"Yes, of course." Katherine took a seat beside Wendy, "I have left two of my constructs to run the desert for any signs of the attacker. I doubt we'll find anything, but if they return I'll know." She said quietly, while Wendy met the gaze of the others. Katherine kept her eyes focused on the plate of food in front of her. She began idly nibbling on a few pieces of fruit as the other Gamma's gathered. "I agree, we will aid however possible..." She muttered softly, as she drew out the cardboard stencil of Lorelei. She began checking the well used stencil for any flaws in the design, for her constructs to work. They had to be perfect, to match the image of the construct in her mind given flesh in the real world.

Vinehurst High

Irene stirred beneath her soft, super warm, super comfy blankets when her cell began it's morning trills. She reached a hand, stained with several different hues of the rainbow towards the glowing candy bar of bright hot...stupid.

Irene glared at the offending phone many would view a stray bug that has gotten in smiting range, before she tossed the device back on the counter. She stumbled forward, a shock of bright red hair covering one eye as Lorelei stumbled forward.

"What a night..." She muttered to to herself, just to remind herself of the previous two nights. She'd put up a new bit of street art downtown, third floor, could be seen for a good distance. She knew as she'd just gotten a piece done in a prime spot, her name was going to catch some real attention now.

She'd chosen this place with a purpose, it was in range of her high school. Any student who walked to school, or looked out a window would be able to see her latest piece. It was her favorite mural to date, her signature Muse. She was larger then life, bright, fire red hair strewn down her back. A pair of black painted wings extended along the wall, she'd even painted a few of the feathers tumbling down the wall, leaving splotches of paint as they tumbled down the wall. Her favorite part was the eyes of her Muse, they were everything she couldn't be. She was shy, her eyes were always kept so close to shutting. As if someone could look into them, and see who she really was. She always kept her gaze down, unless she was painting.

It would be nice, that if she could look up on occasion, challenge that gaze. Just once, she could capture that look for a short time. Before she threw it right back at them...

Yet, that wasn't her. She was the painter, not the subject. Her role was to capture beauty, and let others look upon her. While she fell back out of the limelight. Drawing a simple flowery blouse and her "Fallen Angel" hoody. She quickly dressed herself as she got ready for school. As she stepped out of her bedroom, she closed her eyes as she stepped quietly through the house. Her father, Jean, was cooking breakfast, she smiled as the scent of bacon wafted around her.

"Hey," She muttered as she grabbed one of the stools by the table.

Jean nodded softly to his daughter as he dumped some scrambled eggs onto the plate, alongside a few strips of greasy bacon. Irene groggily took the plate, trying to hide her exhaustion as she nibbled on the eggs. As she ate, her father's voice broke the silence. "I heard you get back around 4 in the morning, you need some coffee?"

Irene felt her cheeks flush as she realized she had not gotten in as quietly as she hoped, "sorry, late study session with Ashe," she lied. Her father sighed as he looked at her paint-stained hands. "You know, those murals of Muses started appearing when we moved here, same style as your paintings before the gallery had you blackballed..." He commented carefully, trying not to directly accuse his daughter of her after-hour activities. Of course, Jean knew his daughter had taken on the moniker of "Muse" after the gallery incident, he just felt that if his daughter wanted an outlet to deal with her mother's loss, she could do worse.

Irene paused as she ate the remaining scrap of bacon, her eyes meeting her father. She promptly looked back to her plate, "I..." her voice hung in her throat, unable to process the next word. Irene gulped, her eyes going towards her backpack. "I'm not hungry, sorry da," she muttered as she picked up the pack full of art supplies, spraypaint, and sketchbook. "I need to get to class early today." She was lying, she just didn't want the uncomfortable conversation with her dad. "I have therapy after class, I'll make sure dinners ready by 7, the words fell listless as she left the house without another word.

Jean simply watched his daughter leave, before muttering to himself. "Ellie, you were always better with her..."

Irene quickly pulled her headphones over her ears as she left the house, losing herself in a song as she began walking to Vinehurst. The pounding beat of the music drew her away from her distractions, leaving her focused on the only thing that mattered.

Her art...

Her attention was knocked back to the real world as a student passed by her on a skateboard. She thought she knew who he was, Seoul, Soul, oh Sol! She tried to open her mouth to say something to him, but by the time she'd worked up to speaking. He was already too far away. She cursed herself under her breath as she kept walking. Eventually Vinehurst loomed up, a wretched building that probably covered the entrance to some stupid evil dimension. Irene slipped inside, and went to her locker. She'd arrived early due to the conversation with her father, her stomach grumbling about the current lack of bacon.

Irene began to sort through her locker, which was comprised mostly of sketchbooks, paint, markers, and a few bits of canvas she'd yet to turn into something more. The handful of granola bars she'd stashed in case she ever stayed late to work on a canvas were running low, but there was something at least. In a few minutes, Irene was now sitting against the locker with her sketchbook, crunching the granola bar with a mild sense of contentment. She heard a few students muttering about the mural that popped up nearby, Irene smiled to herself as she took another bite of the mint chocolate bar as she began sketching her next piece.

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

@Aamaya ahh, awesome!

@RavensMuse yes! they do have their weak points though >.>

@dragonbutts

Well I look forward to it!

Toxoplasmosa Outbreak

The toxo's are definitely going to have the homefield advantage at this rate, this should be fun :D