solokolos

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Nora

The scent was wrong. Nora was following Creep, and despite the crowd of interesting villains, she was still caught off guard by the scent. She had been to many bars and this didn’t smell right. Purge sitting at the table he was could’ve explained it, but it didn’t seem correct. The next thing she noticed was that no one could see her eyes. Nora was two steps in when she realized her power was not registering anyone present. She stopped the dress swinging forward for a moment before stopping with her.

”The games already begun, huh? Stopping powers. Well I’m out then, I know the risk that carries for everyone present. I’m going, Creep will have to be the sole representative of the Rockers. Please don’t stop me, or the value of this neutral meeting will be underminded further than it already has been.”

Her voice was much more matter of fact than normal, and anyone paying very close attention might be able to tell that she seemed genuinely worried. Even though she was used to not using her power, being without the option even frightened her to her core. It was something too near and dear to her everyday life. She turned around, walking towards the door. Nora’s library of nodes was gone too, not as if the pages were blank but as if there was an empty lot where the library had once been.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Ira:
Protectorate Headquarters

@ProPro

The young tinker stayed silent for longer than was normally expected, trying to process this all. Half of her wanted to leap forward and say something obvious like ""You're a woman?!" but her heart wasn't in it. Instead she gathered her thoughts before speaking, the flame of anger still burning away deep inside. "Why did you let him use his power?" She chose Japanese this time, as Decoy was the only one she could speak to in her native tongue. It was strange though, connecting this person with Decoy. The image she was used to was not present, replaced by something theoretically more solid.

Before Decoy could speak, she spoke again. "You knew, you knew and you let him use his power while he was with the Wards. We're supposed to be a force for good, and you decided his life was forfeit in every dimension but this one? Who are you to make that decision?" It felt wrong to be questioning her teacher's authority, but she was pissed, and not quite thinking straight.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Ira:
Protectorate Headquarters

@ProPro

The young girl felt like a weight was crushing her chest, each breath a struggle. Decoy wasn't responding, and the others were chiming in with their own two cents. Ira caught the tone, but not much else. Alessa was mad, Evelyn sounded distressed, but she felt bad enough herself that she couldn't raise her head off the table. The director spoke up, and she caught a small part about official reports being due the next day, but it went in one ear, out the other. The director stood up, and Ira noticed she hadn't heard him sit down. He moved to the door, and slowly the various Wards left. Lillian spoke a bit from the doorway, and Ira stood up, moving to leave the room. Her eyes were crusted with tears, but she felt like trying to wipe them away would break her composure. A familiar voice spoke to her in Japanese through the communicator, prompting Ira to move towards and up the stairs.

Navigating the building was second nature, though she soon found herself in an unfamiliar wing of the building. Ira lifted up her eyes just enough to see the numbers passing by. 4716, 4717, 4718. That was the room number Decoy had said. Ira walked up to the door, twisting the door handle, and the handle turned all the way. She pushed, the heat from inside making the door feel heavier than it actually was. Ira peeked her head inside, her hand reaching up to finally wipe away the dried tears.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Ira:
Protectorate Headquarters

@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Lugubrious@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@yoshua171

The thing that fully woke Ira was being asked for her passcode. The young intern glanced down at his sheet as Ira approached, and struggled visibily. "The prompt is. . . Um I-I can't pronounce it," he mumbled, pressing on the mic clipped to his chest. She sighed, and spoke up.

"Aleph, Dalet, Dalet, Aleph. Stuck between the devil and the sea. Umm one is The monarch of never forgiving? I have a couple more, but I'd need the prompt you can't read." She said, seeming more sassy than usual. He nodded hastily as a voice buzzed in his ear. Ira continued on, arms crossed and pressed against her chest.

"It was in japanese!" She heard him mumble behind him, incredulous.

Zoning out, she came to when the director spoke up. She listened carefully, and then kistened to Lillian's hasty response. Ira set her head on the table in front of her. "Get me out of this. We need to talk, you said it yourself." She said into her mic, just quiet enough that the director would not hear.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

Jaunt groaned along with Inkscape, getting more tired of the quips every second. Ignoring Protean as best he could, he instead focused on the door. "I don't feel comfortable teleporting right inside that door, so we probably should take it head on. I don't wanna get mixed up, if you catch my drift" Jaunt said, glancing between the two of them with vague interest. He moved out of the way, looking at Inkscape's handiwork with a concerned look scribbled across his face. A bit more quesy at the sight than most would expect a former policeman and mercenary to be.

Inkscape nodded, motioning for Protean to open the door and for Hermes to flank the opposite side as he was standing.

Inside was abandoned, a control room full of screens and mechanical equipment. It was a little cold, maybe sixty degrees Fahrenheit, with a slight whirling sound underneath the electrical buzz.

The room was darker than the rest of the warehouse had been, both because of the black equipment and walls. The lights were stunning greens and blues, blinding to at.

In all the mechanical, electrical vibe of the room there was exactly one thing that stood out.

A vanilla envelope sat off to the side, plain as it could be.

Following the hand motions quickly, he flanked, and once the two were inside, took a more aggressive position by teleporting ahead of them. Spotting the envelope, he said out loud "I should bring that to somewhere secure shouldn't I?" he knew most of what people expected of him. He watched his two teammates, power ready on the "mentally push to teleport" phase that would close the distance, then put him in a vacant holding cell at the PHQ, envelope in hand.

"Yes. We're extracting, that's what we're here for." Inkscape said in his calm voice.

"That's it, really? I expected something a little more.... Important looking?"

Jaunt teleported partway through the word yes, appearing in the room after a short pause with the envelope in hand. "Mind if I take a look with you Decoy?" He asked, looking up at the camera over his shoulder. His hand gripped its bottom right hand corner, and as he waited for a response, he studied the plain looking thing.

Jaunt's comm went off. "Hermes, there a situation that we need to address. Good job tonight, go ahead and head home. Protean and I will handle getting that Intel processed."

No fun. Jaunt tossed the envelope on the table, and activited his mic. "Copy that. He said, activating his power again. Gone, he would disappear off the cameras, and three minutes later he was in his home, taking off his new costume. There was an empty spot where his other costume used to be, the safe fully open. He tossed the gun into the closet. Investigating it during his off hours had revealed it didn't even have a firing pin. It made him feel safer that they trusted him not to replace it.

On his bed was a single piece of paper, folded so that it stood up perfectly without falling over from any idle air movements. In flawless script he could see "Jaunt" written on it in black ink.

Picking it up, a short message was wrote in the same perfect script.

You are to find and deliver the man known as Gamble to me.

-C

Playtime was over, it seemed. The chase began. He picked up his cellphone, and typed the numbers quickly. "Hey, it's Jaunt. I'd like to call in a favor.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Epsilon:
Misery and Multiplication

@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Lugubrious@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@yoshua171

The young tinker noticed again that her mask was missing, and this time it stuck. A loud sigh escaped her lips. She climbed into the the PRT van, and found herself sitting next to Elliot. He sat down, and slowly fell asleep beside her. It was understandable, it'd been a long day. Ira watched him go from awake to fully asleep, feeling a stab of guilt that she knew already belonged to Decoy. She wanted to tell him, to wake him up and tell him the atrocities he had committed. The fact that she couldn't speak made her respect and hate Decoy that much more. Ira rested her head against the back of the van, her eyes sliding shut against her will. She tried to fight it, forcing her eyes back open, only to have them close a few seconds later. It was in vain, a deep dreamless slumber overtook her.

Nora

The Rockers Need a Better Name

"I'm back,” Nora said, standing in the doorway to Shatterpoint's room. Patiently, she waited for him to remove his headphones before she continued. "Purge's right hand man seemed very eager to hear the proposal, right up until the point I mentioned it was the Rockers. Despite this change in tone, Mr. Benito wanted to give us a chance. We need to make our case to Purge, otherwise a partnership won't happen."

: Shatterpoint glanced up in Nora's direction, before nodding slightly. "You can inform Purge that the Rockers have information that can help topple the Community." he said quietly once he had turned off his cassette player and set it and the headphones aside. "If more pressing is required, you may mention that we are expanding our reach. We will accommodate an alliance between the two factions that he will find favorable."

A breath escaped her lips, she seemed disappointed in the response. "Though that is very compelling, is there anything more tangible you can send me with? I can see why that would be enticing, but it's not tangible" Nora paused a moment before adding, "I do completely respect your authority on this matter though."

Shatterpoint paused a moment, as if gauging the appropriate way to handle Visage's questioning. His annoyance seemed to bleed through his stone armor and saturate the air. "Information is hard to prove these days. Tell him a thinker found it. If I had something tangible to give you, I would have already, so don't assume to know better." His words oddly seemed to drift. He was still clearly intending to come off as intimidating, but it almost felt as though his concentration was split somehow.

Nora caught on immediately to his annoyance, both the more subtle parts, and him basically outright saying it. "Noted sir. I'll make sure the meeting goes well." She said, bowing her head slightly. "That's all I have to report. Her voice was a lot less subdued now, and the change in her demeanor was obvious. Giving a lot of ground when it came to control of the situation, she wasn't playing her normal game anymore.

: Turning back towards the screen in front of him, he nodded once. "Then take your leave." It was a clear dismissal, that annoyance still present.

Again she bowed her head at his dismissal, leaving without another word. "I'll have to be more careful in the future" Nora thought, not particularly concerned. Again the young Stranger picked up her bag from its place between the buildings, before heading home. Tomorrow would be the meeting with Purge.

The sky was overcast on the bank Visage was meant to meet Purge in. The building was rather large, three stories tall, and as much a bank as you could imagine. Large blocky letters signified the name on the front, overhanging several sets of glass doors surrounded by glass windows. From the sidewalk one could see three female tellers at the counters, two of them serving people with bright smiles.

The building was, by all rights, as dull and monotonous as one could imagine. Lacking any sort of flair, it was easy to glance over the building without taking note that it was a bank.

The glass door closed behind her by its own weight, Visage standing out a bit. Again she was a vision of confidence, moving to the nearest open teller without hesitation. Nora had woken up early for this, making sure to thoroughly dry her hair. The beautiful red color was a wonderful contrast to the broken porcelain making up her mask. Before she could speak, the teller asked a quick question about the nature of Nora's visit. Her cheer was very evident, and even a little grating. "Mr. Benito sent me." Nora said, her voice level and rather monotone.

: The woman gave her a curious look before pointing towards the hallway to her right. "Third floor. They'll escort you."

They, apparently, were the two men in suits and black glasses flanking the hallway.

The masked villain nodded, and walked towards the two men. They directed her towards the elevator, and followed her into it. Again, she felt the urge to place nodes on them. An itch at the back of her head, a constant reminder. They pressed the button for the third floor, inserting their keycards to make the elevator actually move. A green LED flashed, and the lift began to rise at a decent pace. Visage glanced at the two guards, before settling on staring at the door. The lift suddenly stopped, the door opening smoothly.

Visage was directed towards a room directly next to the elevator that was similar to a bathroom without the toilets.

"Scrub down your exposed skin, and spray yourself with this." The men pushed a sanitizing wipe container into her hands and a sanitizing spray. "Purge is waiting."

Visage seemed puzzled for a second, but began the process without complaint. Lifting up her hair to sanitize the exposed skin there, she then moved on to her arms, going straight up to the gloves. Next she crouched down, getting the area right around her ankle, before redoing the area on the back of her neck. She even gracefully wiped down her ample cleavage, and exposed chest, looking annoyed at the attention for once as she did so. Next she sprayed herself thoroughly with the sanitizing spray. "Alright, lets go boys," She said, looking at the henchmen expectantly.

Silently they led her down the hallway to a large set of double doors, and held them open for her.

Inside, behind a white desk stood a hulk of a man standing at an even six feet tall. His face was covered in a simple mannequin face mask as he surveyed Visage. He looked to be, possibly, in his early fifties going by the white in his hair and beard. But he was ripped beneath the white suit he wore. Tan skin rippled as he shifted his weight.

Stepping around the desk, he extended a gloved hand for her to shake. "I'm happy to make your acquaintance, Visage. Please take a seat and we can discuss matters."

Seating himself after her, he pulled a cloth from a pocket on his suit, and began methodically wiping down his hands. The smell of antiseptic lingered as he dropped the wipe in a wastebasket behind the desk.

The villain shook Purge's hand firmly, and took the seat offered to her. Visage took note of him wiping down his hands, and better understood the situation from earlier because of it. Quickly, she studied the man across from her, watching his mannerisms and stature, while she appeared at ease. "I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here, sir. I hope you don't mind me inquiring how much you were informed about my purpose in being here. I don't want to waste your time, after all" Nora's voice was rhythmic, talking slowly at first, before settling in to a faster pace at the end.

"My Second, Benito, informed me that you had a proposition for me, and were using a Cape identity. Capes are invaluable, as one can imagine," he said easily, clasping his hands in front of him. "And please, you are hardly wasting my time unless this is an elaborate prank. Can I get you anything? A drink, perhaps?"

: "If it suits you, I'd prefer we revisit sharing a drink after my proposition," Visage said, not entirely sure he would want to offer it by the end of the talk. "And no, this isn't an elaborate prank. I've been sent as an ambassador of the Rockers, to try to establish a partnership between our two. . . Organizations."

Purge chuckled lightly. "You sound apprehensive, my dear."

He tapped the desk lightly, considering her words. "The Rockers.... I'll admit they aren't my first choice to form a partnership with. It's common knowledge that Shatterpoint is one of the few reasons they're even still around."

He leaned back, nodding lightly. "I would be remiss if I passed up hearing your offer, however. What do the Rockers have that they think is enough to impress me to join hands in partnership?"

Straightening slightly, she considered her phrasing before speaking. "The Rockers have information that can help topple the Community, courtesy of a thinker." Visage said, watching for his reaction very carefully.

: Purge considered her for a moment, before letting out a hearty laugh. "Why, that is unexpected news. I didn't think the Rockers had it in them!"

Standing, he turned his back and looked out the large floor to ceiling window for a few moments, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. "A chance to eviscerate the Community.... Something everyone in Denver would gladly partake in at this stage of the game. Tell Shatterpoint that I would like to extend an olive branch between our organizations and convene at the soonest available moment to discuss the next steps forward."

She smiled underneath her mask, secretly surprised that he took her and her offer on face value. "I'll pass on the news to Shatterpoint," Visage said, glad that it was good news she would be carrying back. She stayed sitting, waiting to see if there was anything else he was going to note.

Purge nodded, moving back desk and pulling out some materials. Writing quickly before putting the paper in an envelope and sealing it with wax and a stamp. Passing it across the desk, he motioned for Visage to take it. Upon returning his tools he again sanitized his gloves.

Walking to hold open the door for her he gave his final word in that same amicable tone. "Just remember, my dear, I do not take offenses lightly. May your travels be fair, it was my pleasure to host you today."

He paused for the briefest of moments before chuckling lightly. "Ah, forgive me. Did you want that refreshment before you depart?"

: "That's alright, I want to keep my senses sharp for this next part. If I'm being honest, my boss is gonna need this good news without smelling booze on my breath" Visage said, giving a conspiratory wink, gripping the letter in both hands. "Oh and it was a pleasure to be hosted." She said, leaving through the door with humor in her eyes.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

Sarah Reiter and Amon Relmeral

One Night in Hell

Arc 2, day 1
Time: 7:00 pm
Walking past most of the line, she grabbed a more cute than hot Prae's hand near the front of the line. The cool air cut across and through her dress, and she looked up at him smiling. "Hi there. Do you mind if I pretend I'm your girlfriend for a bit? I'll buy you a drink~" Sarah said, also trying to go for cute. The boy had very light hair, trending towards the younger side, even with the Prae advantage. He didn't seem too intimidating when it came to ambient vis, and she knew she'd be even less impressive to him. The dress fit her even better out in the wild (so to speak) than it did in front of her mirror. Sarah tried to ignore the fact that she had to look down to see the Prae, focusing instead on being overly affectionate.

Amon raised his eyes at the flashily dressed girl, somewhat literally in this case as she was taller than him, and figuratively, because it was quite a surprise. "Well I would ask if we have to pretend but I'm also not an ass. How about I buy you a drink, you pretend I'm your boyfriend and we call it even?" Amon asked cheerily. Frankly she seemed a little clingy, but he didn't really mind much at the moment, after all he barely knew her so it wasn't fair to judge.

She laughed, quietly, while nodding her head in affirmation. "I feel like you're on the losing end of that deal, but I won't complain loudly." Before they could continue, the bouncer motioned them forward, and waved them past quickly. He didn't seem to notice the mismatched couple, and Sarah didn't seem to care either. She gave him a bit more room once they were past the door, walking beside him, as opposed to against him. "What's your name, by the by?" She asked, watching him with a gentle ease surrounding her. The word to describe her was probably comfortable. Sarah was in her element here.

"Amon's the name, ligh- well you'll see what my game is later. What do you need a fake bf for anyway, isn't half the point of these things to candoodle Miss... ?" Amon asked casually as they approached the bar to buy each other drinks instead of buy drinks for themselves like normal people. His eyes scanned the crowd for official looking people and also people likely to throw him out. He was planning on doing something flashy to get attention and make his subsequent request for a job more appetizing, it would be a bit of a shame if he got thrown out beforehand because someone thought he was doing something aggressive.

"Oh my god, you actually used the word candoodle" She said, a half-snort half-laugh escaping her mouth as they approached the bar. "My name is Sarah, and I just wanted to skip the line with an excuse to talk to you." The girl said, seeming honest. It was easier for her to get the attention of the bartender than Amon, though she also had a bit more sex appeal. He was lacking a few inches in one of the places it counted. Ignoring that train of thought, she turned to him with the bartender walking over. "What would you like, my white knight who saved me from the cold?" She asked, smiling wide at her own joke.

Amon found himself laughing as well, Sarah's impulsive reaction contagious. "Hey, it's a good word." he said, mockingly defending himself from her unjust mockery! The two of them took a seat and Sarah quickly got the attention of the bartender, albeit not hard to do in that outfit. "I'll take that compliment, though I warn you I'm even more interesting then I look. A martini with a twist will do for me; and what does the damsel in distress desire?" Amon asked confidently, his speech smooth and measured, casual banter like this came natural to him at this point.

She hadn't actually considered it beforehand, but a martini did sound nice. "Your Damsel would also enjoy a martini," Sarah said, nodding at the bartender. Turning back to Amon, she smiled. "You said something about light earlier? You're Prae, so I'm guessing you're a magic man?" Her voice was curious, clearly wanting him to continue that train of thought from earlier.

"Magic man is as apt a description as any. I'm a wandering performer and I've wandered here, looks like it could be a fun place so I'm thinking about putting on a show, to convince the staff I'm a worth hire for however long I'm sticking around for. " Amon said flippantly. His plans were no secret so he didn't mind talking about them, after all the rest of the crowd would be unprepared for his surprise so it wouldn't ruin it to tell one person.

Another giggle escaped her lips. "That's your plan? Am I mistaken, or is it not normal for people to start showing off their talents in crowded clubs? I can play a bit of violin, should I just start preforming over the music?" Sarah asked, clearly not meaning harm by the teasing. "Despite my negativity, I hope you do well for yourself!" She said, the bartender suddenly sliding the two drinks across the bar's top. She slipped some cash out of her pocket, and slid it across the counter. Taking a sip, she enjoyed the taste. Amon's alcohol choice and the drink itself.

"Hm, is it really that odd? I figured it was a good way to get attention. Do you think just applying would be a better idea? Most of the time I just do my thing and people throw some money at me." Amon shrugged and grabbed his glass, taking some of his own money out to pay for Sarah's. He shook his glass around a little and the clear drink swirled around for a bit: then there was a tiny flash of light and it became a swirling vortex of colors like that of a far away galaxy, sparkling purple and blue twined around each other. He took a sip of the colorful concoction and smiled. "I figured I could brighten the place up a little."

Bemused curiosity lit up Sarah's face as she watched the contents of his glass. "Again, the best of luck. I'm going to find a friend, but it was nice talking to you. Do you want to exchange phone numbers?" She asked, then laughed a bit to herself. "Not to sound like a character in a Pokémon game"

Amon set down his drink and it returned to normal. "Of course! I'd be sorely amiss as to forgo the chance for further conversation with such an alluring damsel, though I think I'll drop that nickname for it as I get the feeling its really rather unfitting. " Amon flicked his wrist and his phone rolled up his sleeve into his hand: though it would appear more as though it had teleported there. "I think I'll take you advice and your number if you're be so kind."

Taking his phone, she quickly entered some information into it, and turned off the screen before handing it back. "Text me, I'd love to talk to you again," Sarah said, placing the phone on the bar top between them, before downing her martini. "I'm sure I'll see you again" Standing up from the bar, she moved further into the club without looking back.

The phone returned to Amon's sleeve without him bothering to look at it, "Sounds good, you can count on it." He said cheerily and take another sip of his martini as Sarah walked away. Guess he needed to find the employer of this fine establishment. He waved the bartender over.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Nora

Broken Shilling, and briefly Denver Streets

She stood, the stool tipping a bit as she did so. The bartender set the drink in front of her, and she told him to keep it ready for when the business concluded. Walking to the stairs, she took them at a measured pace, peering around the cramped space. It had been made almost cozy, the small space being taken advantage of fully. An attractive, yet dangerous man sat behind the desk. Attentive, and dressed better still than what she assumed to be his employees in the lower floor. Wary he watched her entrance, as Visage moved to stand in front of him. ”I'm here to speak with Purge. I assume you're one of his employees?" She said, her tone respectful, yet still tight. A no-nonsense tone, that she hoped he'd be able to relate to. She mirrored his arm movements, keeping them at her side with full confidence.

"Very direct, miss," Benito replied with an easy smile. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar, and I might have missed your name. Introductions are always preferred."

Holding out his hand, he continued, "Benito's the name, Benito Buceli, the pleasure is all mine."

Visage took note of his response, smiling slyly under her mask. She had tried to establish control of the conversation, trying to lead in this dance, but he had slipped the lead. "I didn't realize you were that high up in the organization, my sincere apologies. You can call me Visage, and I'm just acting as a messenger right now." She said, her voice conveying an honest apology. Her eye stayed on his as she shook his hand firmly.

Benito flashed a charming smile, gesturing for her to take a seat in the relatively comfy looking seat across the desk from him. Once both parties were seated, he opened his hands in a welcoming way. "I am the direct line up, if I may be so bold. I decide if a cause is worthy of attention, or if it is a waste of precious time. So, my dear, please pass along this message of yours so that I can help the both of us."

Sat gracefully, Visage considered the man across from her. She saw no harm in informing him, though there would of course be a caveat. "If I relay this message, and you deem it in the boss's interest, it can be assumed I can relay the message to him myself?" She asked, learning forward so as to entice him with more than just the offer. Her voice was sultry, a contrast lay between the tone and the words. Her eyes were curious things, watching his whole form with interest.

"Given the nature of yourself, yes. Parahuman contacts are.... Priority, generally speaking," he replied as he leaned back in his chair. "This is the system we have in place, a system that works. And I only even tell you as much because my gut tells me this is going to be good."

Visage relaxed too, seeming comfortable with this arrangement. "I've been sent by the Rockers as an ambassador of sorts. I'm here to extend an olive branch, and help set the stage for an alliance between our two organizations." She said, her voice friendly now.

Benito nodded slightly, thinking. "I feel that would be worthy to talk about. But there's a slight catch..."

He tapped the desk with a finger before continuing. "The Rockers have a reputation of being... Less than perfect, shall we say, in looking to not sound insulting for no reason. With all due respect to you and yours, I would suggest you aim to impress." Here the man paused, frowning slightly. "Given the special nature concerned, I feel confident in letting you take your proposal to Purge directly. Say, tomorrow? I do suggest bringing any information of note with you. A friendly suggestion."

The villain did not react at all to the insult, and nodded when he noted that they should aim to impress. ”Tomorrow will work fine. Would you like to meet here, or do you have another location in mind?" She asked, looking like she was ready to leave.

"Across town there's a bank called 'Denver Banking, Inc' with a crisp sign saying as much. Several stories tall. Tell the front desk Mr. Benito sent you and you'll be taken care of," he replied without hesitation. "I wish you the best of luck, Visage."

With that he stood up and walked around the desk to offer his hand again. "It was a pleasure."

As Visage stood, she repeated the instructions in her head a couple times. Shaking his head, she kept eye contact. At the back of her head, her power nudged her on. It constantly reminded her whenever she could make a node that she should. ”It was nice meeting you too, I adore the thought of seeing you again.” She said, moving to leave with lithe steps. Taking the stairs at the same measured pace, she walked back to the bar. The bartender had heard her approaching, and went to retrieve her drink. She lay payment on the table, retrieved from her back pocket, before picking up the drink and moving a few steps from the counter. She slipped her mask up, downing the burning liquid quickly, before letting her mask fall back down. Turning, she set the glass back on the counter, and left the establishment.

Epsilon:
The Misery of Multiplication

@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Lugubrious@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@yoshua171

Iron filled her throat, choking her, The smell had finally reached her, and now it was fight between the iron pushing down her throat, and the bile pushing up. Ira's eyes burned, the tears collecting on the goggle-like frames of her mask. A crisp voice cut through the noise, finally someone speaking a language she could understand. Decoy. He was sticking to his guns, defending his decision in a roundabout way. If her teammates hesitated in killing the clone-the people. If they didn't fight with full intention of winning, they would die.

After this though, did they deserve it? Was it okay to kill civilians who were mind controlled to save your own skin? It wasn't their fault, they were given a command from Martyr. She remembered that from their talk. The name; Martyr. Oh god. She reached up to pull her mask off, and was pulled suddenly by the soldier accompanying her. The sudden lurch tore a burning sob from her lips, the tears splattering against the hard concrete. Gunshots kept splitting the air, making her flinch. "My mask isn't in my hands anymore," the thought passed quickly, fleeting and forgotten soon after. She kept moving forward after Reynolds stopped, before the wall fell apart. Blinking, she pushed past some kid, and breathed air that wasn't suffocatingly stale. In English she said to her live transmitter "What the fuck Decoy?"

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Nora
Denver Streets

The sun was still high in the sky as Visage departed from the Rocker's headquarters. So much work done in one day, without so much as a second wasted. It was a very refreshing feeling, though she had no time to revel in it. That would ruin her streak after all.

She moved, drifting from one alley to the next, as she retraced her steps. Ducking down after a few minutes, she made sure she was alone before she continued. Hidden where two buildings meet was a black canvas bag, sharp bits of rough clothing visible from where they poked against its edges. It was slightly damp on the bottom from where she had stuffed her jeans. Again, Visage glanced around, before slinging it over her back, and continuing her walk though the Rocker's territory.

She wanted to laugh, to giggle and hug herself, it was just so damn exciting. Restraint had been so difficult, the urge to plant a node on Furnace, on Protean, on anyone and everyone ever present. But no, she had to do this right. A master power demanded control, not just of others, but of one's self as well. Detecting if someone had been compromised by a master power was just too easy, as the precaution taken by Director Kens had proven, but there was an out. Dormant master powers were very hard to detect, and weeding candidates that were compromised by that sort of power out of potential missions was near impossible to preform with 100% certainty.

Her power could turn into a virus, with compromised individuals unknowingly spreading nodes. It was a bit of a giveaway that they couldn't see while she was preforming her limited clairvoyance, but it was still a useful tool. For a major amount of time, she had considered countering perfect responses to her powers, assuming that a full swat team would be going against her, equipped with tinker-assisted vision.

That wasn't the standard fight however. She would slowly become a known entity as her career continued, leading to more and better responses to her presence at any given fight. That's where the importance of misinformation came from, investing in security by obscurity. From the simple stuff, like keeping information about her powers off parahumans online, to interfering with Watchdog.

The city had melted around her, her thoughts consuming her. Steps and countersteps ran parallel tracks in her head. In all honesty, her minute predictions weren't very accurate. Visage was willing to accept that too, but her broader insights weren't particularly bad. She knew, for a fact, that caution would help her more than recklessness. If the specifics escaped her, so be it.

Thinking about it, the Vegas capes were the ones to emulate, with all the ones worth noting being largely poorly understood. Fighting unknown entities was very difficult, and so she had to adapt to that lifestyle. The largest disadvantage villain groups had were resources. When push came to shove, it was easy for the hero side to ask for favors. From the villain side, letting fellow teams lose encounters also meant less competition, and a good chance of gaining territory.

Nora reviewed her knowledge of Purge, from the many message boards she had visited. He had a mafia aesthetic, but it wasn't 100% confirmed he was from any actual mafia family. At least not personally confirmed. Taking information found online with a grain of salt was important. The amount of salt she had to take to weigh against information about his power was very small, however. His power seemed to be a thinker, specializing in hiding his presence at a crime scene. Any crime that was known to be associated with his gang lacked any and all evidence. Gone without a trace, every time. The lack of evidence lead to a lot of speculation, with the most popular theory agreeing with Nora's current view at the time. All-in-all he was a careful B-lister at best. Then again, many people might call the Rocker's B-listers. It'd be hard for Nora to make a counter-argument to that, honestly.

The world filtered back into focus as the bar loomed in front of her. Mask still clinging tightly to her face, she walked forward, already having planned out her entrance. The street was clear of cars when she crossed it, sprawling out into dinghy streets in both directions. She opened the door swiftly, letting it close from its own weight behind her. The bar had few people this early in the day. The place looked barren, the thin chairs scattered around the tables not helping that aesthetic. There were seven tables, by Visage's count, and not a single person sat at any of them. The bar held two people, gruff, strong men. Their clothes were nicer than the shitty beer in front of them. Probably old vices, like the menthols one of them smoked.

She stuck out, plain and simple. She sat next to the one on the right, and only her confidence stopped them from trying to sate their curiousity about her immedietly. She orderer a martini, and the bartender couldn't be hassled to ID her. She turned towards the men, eyeing them directly. "Are you Purge's lieutenants?" Visage aeked, her voice steady.

Hermes:
Laying the Groundwork

@Old Amsterdam

An audible groan escaped Herme's lips as Protean made his quip. Pushing forward, he took a step before teleporting to two of the most active guards. He grabbed their sleeves, and focused on one of the cells. Pushing past the mental barrier, he teleported again, and stayed suspended for longer than he expected. Just as he wondered how far he had actually pushed himself, he appeared in the stark white cell.

That was farther than he remembered.

He teleported again, as soon as he could, choosing the safe position he had watched from before. It seemed to take less time on this one, but he tried to ignore this fluctuation in his power. He reappeared, and again focusd on the room. One had been trying to escape in his direction, but the mover grabbed him by the collar. Dragging him back, he threw him against a wall, before kicking him in the face. Out cold. He walked forward, looking nonchalantly upon Protean's work.

Epsilon:
The Misery of Industry

@BCTheEntity@Eklispe@Lugubrious@Old Amsterdam@ProPro@yoshua171

Everything was happening so fast, Epsilon was feeling overwhelmed. It was Martyr, she was sure, The Community had twisted him, and she felt a similar grief to losing Sonar in the field. Everyone fought back so damn readily though, working together while she just watched from afar. She shut off her nullification field, gazing over the large number of Deans. Then something caught her eye, a Dean surviving a car being thrown at him, as if he had a different power than the rest. She pulled out her goggles, the white noise of everyone around her getting louder and less intelligible. A sea of green met her, every Dean glowing as brightly as. . . Messiah. As Protean. That wasn't right though, the goggles didn't react to squirrels, it didn't react to rocks, it shouldn't react to Master minions.

Epsilon collapsed onto her knees, bile burning her throat.That doesn't make sense, that doesn't-they're meat mush, they're-they're not. She remembered a passing moment, talking to Dean about his power. He was so uncomfortable throughout, and when she proposed testing the clones he seemed appalled at the idea. The noise was reaching a crescendo, and Epsilon was struggling for breath now.

""They're people." She mumbled, her voice too low for the live mic to pick up.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Nora
Protectorate Headquarters and Rocker's Headquarters

Collab with Eklispe

The chair felt weird when mixed with her wet jeans. Nora had slipped when she had left the house she was staying in. and landed butt first on a freshly watered lawn. It was uncomfortable, and hadn't gotten better as it dried. At the time, she considered going back in and changing but decided against it. She was regretting that decision now. Earl, the receptionist, kept eyeing her strangely from across the counter, but that was to be expected. The security guard, one Alfred Renstolf according to their short conversation, had begun staring as well. They had been so nice, introducing themselves and explaining their job, but now they seemed to find it difficult to avert their gaze. It probably had to do with her power. She had made herself seem almost identical to Siberian, in everything but skin tone. Instead of the Siberian’s white and black stripes, Nora was a pale, more human tone. She was also stark naked, from their perspective. There was a good chance that was related.

"How much longer do you think this is gonna take? The director is not that busy is he?" She asked, her voice pitched higher, sounding slightly impatient. Honestly, Nora didn't mind the wait. She was kind of nervous, having rehearsed what she was gonna say many times before coming here. "Oh and tell Decoy I don't mind if he has the swat team armed and ready, I understand perfectly the need. He might even know me by now." The thick clothing she was wearing was very visible on the security cameras, and would serve to only further obfuscate the information.

She was wearing a bandana around her mouth, with another covering her forehead. Only her eyes, and the sides of her face were visible. A thick padded jacket covered the rest of her upper body, the fluffy hood resting on her head neatly. Her hands were gloved, thin fibrous gloves that could hardly be used for warmth. She smiled at the security guard, a sly expression only visible to him. It was almost predatory, but not in a threatening way. Maybe sexually threatening.

A familiar sight to most people that came into the building, one way or the other, was Jackson: who came strolling into the lobby leisurely. His usual attire of a rather faded looking gray suit with three buttons in the front over a white dress shirt matched his dress pants. The only thing that stood out was his tie that had distinctive hotwheel-reminiscent flames all over it."Let's see here, Null was it? A little overdressed for the occasion are we? No matter, if you'll come along with me we can have a nice chat and then see about you meeting the director. After all, he's a very busy man you know." Jackson said with a chuckle and turned away, walking back the way he came, expecting her to follow. Given that she did she'd be lead into one of the fairly standard interrogation room. Quite plain really: two chairs, one table, one pane of one-way glass. "Now then, what did you want to talk about again? Oh and you can call me Jackson."

A dramatic over emphasized sigh escaped her lips as she stood up. She moved forward, giving a small wave at the security guard as she passed. Partway down the hallway she glanced back just in time to see him quickly look away. She giggled quietly to herself, muffling the noise with her hand halfway through. She almost skipped as she entered the room, sitting down in the chair opposite the new man. Quickly, she responded, her voice barely showing how awkward she felt. "Well, mister, um. . . Jackson. . . May I know your last name! I don't want to call you Jackson, after all you are my superior!" Her voice was normally pitched, though it went up a bit the more she said in one breath. Which was most thing. For a few seconds Nora considered using her power on the man, but decided against it. She didn’t want to get arrested so soon, after all.

This wasn't quite everyday Nora. Though she did feel awkward, she was instead going for a certain look. A person who recently gained powers, and didn't know what to do with them.

Jackson smiled in amusement at her response. "Well aren't you polite. I'm not much of a superior to anyone though, so just Jackson is fine. Relax a little, we're all friends here, or at least I hope we can be: if that's alright with you?" Jackson asked in an endearing fashion. Not in the creepy hitting on you way, more in the 'aww that dude is super nice' way.

A frown crossed Nora's lips, creasing her brow slightly, though that would be almost impossible to see. Her soft blue eyes darted up to look at the security camera in the corner, before returning to Jackson's. She took a small breath before speaking, not big enough to warrant her following his recommendation to calm down. "Well Mr. Jackson, I'd like to talk to the director about some illicit activities. Not mine, no um. They aren't his. I guess his lack of? Not in a bad context, more in a-it's hard to explain. The director is good man, and it's very important that we discuss bribes. I don't want to give him any, I don't have the money anyways, but-" She took a deep breath, thinking to herself as she sat there, as if trying to rephrase it in her head.

Jackson laughed again at Null's awkward attempts to explain herself. "Alright alright, let's calm down a little there youngster. You want to talk about someone getting bribed and I'm guessing you want the PRT to do something about it."

Instantly she shook her head. "No, I'm only talking about Jackson. He doesn't take bribes. He's a good man, and we all know that. But I want to talk to him about how he doesn't take bribes, and the function of bribes in a political system, I think he knows, but I want to help reinforce it a bit, the role it plays." The glasses he was wearing were starting to annoy her. He couldn't see her eyes, so she couldn't manipulate her appearance at all. If she could just get a glimpse then this would be a lot easier. "Am I supposed to mention if I'm a parahuman or not by the way? I'm not legally obligated, right, regardless of my 'parahuman status'? I don't know how most of this works. Oh you probably have thinkers or tinkers that detect that! Never mind." She said the last part quietly, sounding interested, before embarrassed as she corrected herself.

Jackson could only listen to the women in bafflement as she proceeded to attempt to explain herself further. "That's... nice. You don't have to tell us you're a parahuman at the moment. If you want perhaps getting a piece of paper and something to write with would make this easier?" Despite Jackson's utter bewilderment at what was going on he was still cordial.

She looked equally, if not more baffled. "What do I need paper for?" She asked, sounding almost insulted.

"Well you'll pardon my candor but you seem to have some trouble expressing your ideas concisely."

A long breath escaped Nora's lips, and she took the opportunity to stand. She removed her hand from her pocket, the motion completed with her hand rested on the table, empty, as she thought to herself. "I'll say it once more. I want to talk to the director about the role of bribes in a political environment. Concise enough for you?" The question had the slightest bit of venom, as it seemed she had been at least a little offended. "I was much more prepared to talk to the director. I memorized a speech, and everything. I should've expected this honestly, it's not your fault." She paced back and forth behind the chair, her hands crossed to clutch her biceps in a way that spoke of discomfort.

Jackson tilted his head slightly in confusion, mostly oblivious to her attempt to draw his eye, literally. "And is there a particular reason you have to give it to the director?"

"Well he is the most important person to bribe. I feel it wouldn't have as much of an impact coming from an inferior. In the hierarchical sense, not literally. I don't know if I'm a peer, in the direct sense, then again. She spoke, thinking to herself, It was clear she was dead set on talking to the director, for better or worse. It was also clear she had not considered the possibility of his lack of interest. Her voice was more muffled through the bandana this time, and she adjusted it, pulling it up to rest higher on her nose. The wet pants were annoying her less now that she was standing.

"Hm I can certainly see your point but wouldn't it be possible to record your message or simply email it instead?"

"Not to the same effect, no."

"Well it seems to be very important to you so I suppose we can give you a brief visit. I'm sure your speech will be very nice." Jackson said respectfully and stood up, opening the door and leading Null to a door. "Go ahead." Upon Upon entering the room she'd be faced with the man himself, a strict looking fellow who gave her a critical examination upon her entry. He gave off the air of someone very serious and very busy. "Jackson says you need to give me a speech. Speak." He said curtly. The room was fairly spartan, there was a desk in the center and the wall behind it was made of glass, the walls were covered in filing cabinets and nothing else. The only furnishings besides the desk were the two chairs closer to Null and the one Kens was sitting in. On the desk was nothing besdies the computer and associated wiring.

Despite her delusion of meeting the director, she was at least a bit surprised that he had given in when he had. He led her through the building, before opening a door that lead directly to the director. It was more than a bit of a rush for the young girl as she entered the room. The second her eyes met the director's her shard gave a denial. No eye contact made. Nora frowned a bit underneath her mask, sitting down across from the man. She decided to keep up the ruse, however. What game were they playing? Did they think her game was over? "Pardon my attire, director. I've come to clear up a misconception you may have about bribes. Bribes are abhorrent things, and I personally know you have never taken any. You're a good man, however, that is to your disadvantage in every sense." She paused, gathering herself and watching his reaction.

Kens waited, merely raising an eyebrow at her pause.

"Being a respectable, honest man is only an appearance. One that most can adopt, however that doesn't matter as much as someone good like you actually being in office. If someone else who accepts bribes works against you, then your honor means nothing, That person has an advantage and you do not, the game's sum being plus one for them, or more accurately, minus one for yourself. This goes for all maleficent deeds performed to gain an advantage, The optics need not matter if you lose regardless." She paused, rethinking phrasing it seemed. This time it she wasn't waiting for a response, and so she kept talking. "You might think it undermines your morals, you might think it undermines your authority and makes you a hypocrite. That doesn't matter as much as you having the power you do. Is it more wrong for some evil individual to have this position, or for you to have it after having committed evil while still being able to do good?"

"Is that all?"

The question was like the splash of cold water, threatening to drown her, causing her already striking blue eyes to widen significantly. "I was more here to discuss what I just said, than to actually say it. The information is important, but my presence was needed solely for the step after saying what I just said." Her voice was strained, again sounding vaguely offended, but not including a direct accusation. Her eyes read his face, trying to absorb any hint about his thoughts.

"I was told you came here for a speech not a discussion. Much less a discussion you can have anywhere with anyone. I'll be blunt." No surprise there. "What do you want from me?" Kens leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his steepled hands just in front of his mouth as he stared at her with a slight frown. It was easy to see where the lines on his face came from. He seemed to have... No interest in her.

"I wanted a reason to not invest in the other guys. Truly, a reason to keep believing. You're not that, it seems." At that, her affect on all of the people in the building disappeared, the nodes in her mind representing each person disappearing. That was how she thought of it at least. Her expression hadn't changed, but she was honestly kind of surprised by his question. A direct inquisition to her intent, he was indeed as blunt as they say.

A short sigh of exasperation. "I apologize if I somehow failed to meet your expectations but my job is not to sell myself to every teenager with a dream. Given that I suspect you are a parahuman, the PRT has a vested interest in making sure that you're either with us or remain a rogue but I can not force you to do either. It is better for me to have done evil and continue doing good then for an evil person to continue doing evil. Is that sufficient?"

"I can't tell if you believe it, but it doesn't actually matter. This was all for appearances too. There's a power gap in Denver, caused by the Bravta leaving, and the various vigilantes. Jaunt has disappeared, and in his place your new teleporter has greatly assisted in taking down other crime syndicates. The rockers can't fill this void, so you better know what you're dealing with. You're gonna need ample resources to combat all of these things. I'll get out of your hair, so you can fix the problem you probably already knew about." She stood and turned away from him in a flourish, opening the door for herself, before leaving him with parting words that weren't as grand as she'd like. "Tell Decoy he shouldn't relay information he's not sure of. He doesn't even know if I'm a Parahuman.

Jackson was waiting for her, cheery as ever. "So, how'd your speech go?"

She smiled despite herself at his question, her eyes reflecting that in the way they crinkled at the edges. They were expressive enough in-it-of-themselves it seemed. The best part of the meeting, Nora reasoned as she began following his lead to the lobby, was that she had gotten the dramatic last word. Despite that, these things never went as well as she hoped they would. Well, it's time to put some actual plans together. Shame I had to shore up my enemies defenses, but it's no fun if they break too easily. Nora thought, tucking away a lock of red hair back under the do-rag covering the top of her head. Nora answered the question posed to her as they approached the security guard. Strangely, he was nowhere near as interested in her as before. "It went better than expected. Nice to meet you all!" She said, moving towards the exit. A small lie, the first part.

"Be safe young lady. And if you ever want to help out we're always hiring." Jackson said, his lightheartedness present as always, though he didn't seem to expect his offer to be taken up, not now at least. Just another day working for the PRT. Jackson thought to himself as began walking back towards his office.

Exiting the building, Nora grabbed hold of the man standing outside. A large man, tattoos adorning his features. He had been waiting patiently, and now he smiled at her, though he still looked nervous. "We can go now! I'd like to get changed, but you can doublecheck I don't have a wire during that process." She said, grabbing his hand and leading the way deeper into the ciuty.

---

Collab with Old Amsterdam

The gang member led the way, holding her hand tightly. Visage's mask rested snug against her face, material warming her face by trapping her breath. Her power gently reminded her of the node attached to the man every time she looked at him. If she focused, a visual representation of her current form would appear in her head. Right now, she was his girlfriend, who had convinced him that she had to meet his boss. At first these deceptions had seemed wrong, but Visage had become desensitized the more she had used her power. It was a very enticing thing, the want to use here power nagging at the back of her head. They were approaching a door now, the alley they had just entered shadowing by two large, dark buildings.

The man she hadn't bothered to learn the name of knocked twice, and a slide opened on the door. What Visage assumed was another gang member peered through the opening, and her power latched on immediately. She shifted a bit so the fact that her hand was being held wasn't visible, and forced him to see her as Shatterpoint. "Just stepped out for a bit." She said, startling her companion, though her subtler powered calmed his confusion. The man nodded quickly, opening the door, and allowing the two of them to enter. Visage shifted herself again, appearing as the same thing for the both of them now with no dissonance caused. The man justified in his head why he let this complete stranger in, not realizing he was even doing it. Soft footfalls accompanied further progress into the Rocker's headquarters as he led her to his leader.

Shatterpoint was sitting in front of a computer, his head leaned back, headphones on as an old cassette player sat running beside him.

The goon froze at the doorway. He knew better than to interrupt the boss, especially when the headphones were on.

Looking past the man, she looked at Shatterpoint, sat in his chair. A broad smile formed underneath her mask, and she hugged the gang member's arm suddenly, resting her head on his shoulder. She shifted her feet to a more relaxed position, standing on one, while tapping the floor with the toe of her other foot. Soundless she watched him, feeling the man she was attached to move his arm every so often.

Shatterpoint's head tilted slightly, his eyes snapping on the foot tapping.

"Who are you, and why have you intruded upon this building without invitation?" he asked quietly, his voice colored with what could be irritation, seeming to take in every detail on the intruder and the goon with her. He pressed a key on the keyboard and the monitor turned off. Another movement and the headphones were removed with a careful measure.

"I just wanted to meet someone as renowned as you." She said, her tone light and airy. "I'm not here to threaten you. In fact I'd absolutely love to work with you" Visage's phrasing was careful throughout, noting that he was renowned, however at the same time saying she wanted to work with him. Implying, it seemed, she wanted to work as his equal.

Shatterpoint glanced back to the goon, making a motion for the man to leave immediately.

"Many would consider it unadvisable to simply intrude upon another's abode," he said quietly as he turned the chair sightly to more properly face her. "However, I am willing to overlook this... Interruption. What do you look to gain from such arrangements?"

Twisting her body, she let the man's arm go, removing her power in its entirety from him, before facing Shatterpoint again. "I'd like one thing in abundance, and one thing in small amounts. The thing I want a lot of is presence. I want every one of your gang members to know of me. A little cash on the side won't hurt, but I'd like to make it worth your while. Take what you pay your other superpowered rogues and reduce it by 90%. For that I'll do odd jobs, anything requiring a scalpel instead of a hammer." Visage said, leaning forward a bit, but not getting too much closer to him. Similar to what she was asking, she knew of Shatterpoint, but the more specific details escaped her. "I'm Visage, by the way." She ended with, waiting for a response to her requests.

His eyes roamed over her again before moving towards the door briefly and settling near her feet. "The pay is acceptable, and simple enough. Your other request... Can come in time. I am not willing to grant you access to all of my subordinates unproven, new to the fold. Prove yourself worthy, and that can change," he said as he bridged his hands momentarily. "Is this agreeable?"

Giggling slightly, she nodded in response. "I don't want to meet them! I want them to know of me!" Visage said, phrasing it specifically again. Though outwardly she seemed perfectly relaxed with his responses, she was trying very hard to read him. If he wanted to hurt her it wouldn't be difficult, but she could be a lot more valuable working with him, than not. At least, she was counting on that. "Do you have any jobs in mind? Or would you like a demonstration of my power?" She asked, trying to take back control of the situation by reestablishing the question and making him respond.

He made a slight tsking sound in response. "A demonstration is not necessary, Visage. As for 'jobs', I do indeed have a perfect beginning for our newfound joining. I want you to visit a certain cell underneath a Parahuman called Purge. Reach out to them as an Ambassador of the Rockers, and build the beginnings of an alliance between us."

Eyes visibly lighting up, she nodded in response to the mission. "Should I approach Purge in a similar way to how I approached you?" Visage asked, seeming more interested by the second. "I'm also gonna need an address. I can handle the rest, though"

Shatterpoint made a so-so gesture with his hands. "I would advise against simply forcing your way in. Others are not so understanding as I... As for an address... You can often find his lieutenants enjoying their free time in the Broken Shilling."

"Sounds like a plan" Visage said, offering a bow. It was more than a little indecent, considering her choice of costume; it was clear from the way her eyes lit up afterwards that that had been her intent. Without another word, she left, waving goodbye to the gang member standing nearby who Shatterpoint had dismissed.

Shatterpoint watched her leave with a slight smile, turning back to the computer and entering several keys before engaging with the task in full force.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Visage

Visage

Name: Nora Lavigne
Alias: Visage
Age: 24
Alignment: Villain
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Ms. Lavigne has red hair that ends at about shoulder level, with most locks ending around her chin. Straight, and thick its color definitely stands out; you can be assured it is not her natural color. A bow can often be found in her hair, with the color changing based on her outfit. The next thing most people notice is her striking bright blue eyes, with fair skin drawing a beautiful contrast. Conventional beauty is a hallmark of her appearance, with her figure filled out well throughout. She normally sticks to thinner clothing, with hot pants and light airy blouses being a common sight; she does have enough of a closet to fit most occasions, and most themes. Nora is decidedly feminine, with every stride, and every word driving this home.

This is wrapped up in a rather light 5' 7" (170 cm) package, with little muscle mass to speak of. Her legs are well toned from jogging regularly, but that is truly the extent of her physical training. She eats healthy to keep her stomach flat. She switches from trying to be 'cute' to being 'hot' rather well, while still occupying the middle ground of that spectrum well.

Nora's obsession with appearances extends to her costume rather well. She stole most of the items that make up her costume from various costume shops around Loveland, Colorado. All of those crimes remain unsolved due to conflicting witness testimony, security camera footage, and general incompetence by the local law enforcement. Currently, her costume consists of tight dark blue clothing, with padding inserted in certain places for decency. Her top has a hole cut in it, purely to show off a bit of cleavage. She doesn't wear a cape, but she does wear a mask exclusively for the front of her face. The top half is split off, rubber set against the places where the sharp bits would touch her face. A utility belt hangs loosely off her right hip, while attached snug on the other side, purely for aesthetic reasons.

History: Born and raised in Loveland, Colorado, the bustle of larger cities was always normal for Nora. Her father was a white collar worker, while her mother was dead set from the beginning of the two's relationship to become a stay at home mom. Born in November of 1981, appearances were important even during her very early years. Nora's mother put in her many child beauty pageants starting at seven. A disagreement with Nora's father prompted her mother to stop putting her in the pageants that had defined her earlier years. Middle school saw Nora become the stereotypical popular girl in her classes, often attempting to ostracize those who she thought were disrespecting her.

Despite her healthy social life, Nora suffered from bulimia and depression throughout middle school and high school. When her bulimic tendencies were discovered freshman year, a rift formed between her father and mother. Her father, who had never been a fan of the pageants Nora had been exposed to as a child, was now convinced that his wife had caused the disorder his daughter was suffering from. Considering it, Nora thought it made sense, but never came to a definite conclusion on the matter. A year after discovering their daughter's condition, she still wasn't going to therapy, as her parents seemed to be focusing more on the political side of their own relationship than their daughter's well being. Why fix the problem, after all, when you can just turn it into ammunition to attack the other side with. A catharsis was found by Nora in bullying her fellow classmates, and her spot at the top of the social ladder afforded her a great position to do so.

During Nora's senior year, a common victim of hers took revenge. The young sophomore girl mixed some supplies from her favorite class. She dumped glitter into a bucket of glue, and threw it on Nora while she was eating lunch with her friends. The girl got more than she bargained for in that Nora even threw up, because the sticky substance got in her mouth. Her friends abandoned her, and with a majority of the people at the school knowing about the various bullying instances, when looking for help in her peers she only got the contempt which she had once given. Idle comments passed between loose enough lips, noting how she "should keep to throwing up in the bathroom," and that "maybe that was too much makeup, even for her." Her own lack of self awareness didn't help either, not being able to understand how they could see her as they did coloring a large part of the experience.

The ostracization Nora experienced started that day, and continued for longer than she could handle. Three days later, alone at home, she found herself in an endless loop of reflecting on what she perceived as an injustice she had suffered. The harsh words were stuck in her head, magnifying their viciousness with each second. They had judged her guilty, and she couldn't understand that. They couldn't see her side of it, what she was going through, and now she was more isolated than she'd ever been. Nora triggered. After that, she tested her power on her parents first, and her peers second.

The large amount of attention she attributed to aesthetics only increased from this point on. Nora's high school experience took a turn, and ended up being basically perfect. She kept her grades up, and kept her peers below her. A bit of irony could be found in that she never became a better person from this, even though the root problem was her shit treatment of others. Manipulating them was all the easier with her newfound power, so she didn't have to learn that lesson.

Three months after her trigger event, Nora graduated from high school with remarkably better grades than she had had during the rest of her scholarly career. For some reason. Turning a small time hobby of hers into a profession was the next stage of Nora's life, as she delved further into photography through college classes her parents paid for. During this time she also committed a couple of small time robberies, marking the first illicit use of her power. A couple of the pictures she took during college caught the attention of various news organizations before she graduated college. These news organization's interest, along with almost all of them being based out of Denver, lead to Nora moving to the bigger city.

Her interest in the 'uber celebrities,' that were the top tier of capes, was piqued further at this point; she she offered her services to many of them over the next couple years. As a rule for herself, Nora has never used her power on any of the capes she has photographed, never able to know the full extent of their powers; A hidden aspect of the power could easily give her away, after all.

Personality

Motivations: As is mentioned in her derangement, Nora wants to be the center of attention. A more specific goal would be that she wants to be renowned. She wants to build a rapport, and eventually become a household name across the world.
Sexuality: Bisexual
Likes:

• Photography
• Crafts
• One-on-one interactions

Dislikes:

• Snakes
• Bureaucracy
• Tedium

Derangement: Where before Nora's obsession with appearances was relatively minor, the events revolving around her trigger have greatly magnified this. She is almost always going for an aesthetic, trying to be flashy, bright, and the center of attention. Nora can normally suppress this during her freelance work, but a sort of catharsis is wrapped up in any illicit night time activities.

Parahumanism

Skills: This stranger has a knack for remembering things! She's great with faces, and can read a room pretty well. Nora absolutely loves theatrics, owing to her pageant background. Freelance photography is a passion of hers, and barely pays the bills. Keeping up with the cape knowledge of surrounding cities has been a hobby for a while.
Classification: Master, Stranger, Thinker. (Note: The sum is 12. I double checked.)
Details: The powers Nora has can be broken down into three unique powers that influence each other in peculiar ways. Arguably her most versatile, Nora's first power changes how others perceive her visually. Once she has seen someone's eyes, or they have seen hers, the primary power creates a node for that individual. Nora can mentally dismiss these nodes, but until she does, she can indefinitely alter how the affected person views her. She can also choose how much the affected person notices this change, with the dichotomies spanning "high dissonance" and "no dissonance." The person will not notice the change until they see her, and if she is on the "no dissonance" setting, her shard will iron out any difficulties they may have with this change almost instantly.

Looking back on the experience, they will not recall her looking any different from the last form she decided, though their memory isn't updated if she decides to change forms during the period she is out of sight. Technically Nora has an infinite capacity for nodes. Anyone Nora has a node for will automatically be recalled upon being seen, either with a photo or directly. At all times Nora knows if her power is affecting each node, and what the 'disguise' she selected is.

The second power Nora has is directly related to her first. Once Nora has established a node she can choose to see through that node's eyes. The node she is presently taking the sight of cannot see. Her first power of establishing nodes can trigger through this second power, that is to say if she has taken over someone's vision, and can see other's eyes through their vision, she can establish a node.

The third power Nora has is more to do with her first power than her second. As a general rule, Nora is not very suspicious. This isn't Nice Guy levels of mind fuck, but it's still pretty powerful. It would seem strange to a jury if a key witness was testifying against her. If she chooses a disguise matching someone else in the room, it'd be hard to convince yourself outright that she isn't the original, without a password system established beforehand.

Though I wouldn't consider it a unique power in-and-of-itself, Nora has one more ability. A couple of her senses are slightly enhanced, specifically her sight, taste, smell, and hearing. This is nothing to write home about, though the boost in sight does still apply when she is using her second power.

Limitations: It can be a difficult process to locate the node corresponding to a person Nora hasn't seen a while, or isn't familiar with in general. Any limitations applying to seeing her eyes, also apply to seeing someone else's eyes, when it comes to creating a node. Any reproduction of Nora's eyes doesn't count, but obscuring them does not affect her power. So colored contacts wouldn't stop her from creating a node, but a picture of her eyes, electronic or physical, would not create a node when seen. Her powers work through binoculars, but not through thermal goggles. Nora can change her appearance once per second per node.

Nora is limited to seeing through the eyes of one node at a time, and cannot see through her own vision during that time. Anything obscuring their vision, excluding eyelids, also obscures Nora's vision. If they go to rub their eyes, for example, she will not be able to see.

The third power is limited by the fact that it doesn't affect primary thinkers. At all.

Equipment: Inside the pockets of her utility belt are various small tools she threw together, such as pepper spray, random things taken from a first aid kit, and a bit of make-up for touch ups on the fly. A flashlight is strapped to her utility belt on the right side. She also has a small, tacky folding knife tucked away in one of the pouches.