(Cross Over) We Can Be Heroes

[Yumyumcrow]

The day was slowly giving up on itself. It was a cold day. A damp day. Fog in the morning and thereafter a press of grey cloud, slowly thickening, but never spilling its rain. The threat of rain, the cool breeze, and the low cloud, sapped the will and as the afternoon wore on, time itself seemed to drain away. The city hung expectantly in a limbo between the late afternoon and early evening. One saw this in the empty streets and the sluggish cafes; in the thickly churning main streets where the traffic crawled but did not seem to go anywhere, and in the subdued echoes reverberating from the city's schools.

A house stands at the corner of a quiet side street. Its not terribly big; none of them are. It does stand in an oddly shaped block, meaning the angle of the house is off centre (and sharply so) to the rest of the street. A large hedge surrounds it, screening the yard from view. There are some small trees in need of pruning and a small shed that looks in need of a new coat of paint. The upper rooms are all thickly curtained bar one, where the window has been covered in old newspaper. It looks strange enough to catch the eye from the street.

Look at that window: someone has made an effort to block it out with determination and skill. There is probably two layers of paper there at least, ensuring that no light gets through (and no one from the street can make out what goes on within). Look again - the paper is starting to yellow. Then curl. Then blacken. There is a reddish glow now. Smoke leaks through the cracks in the window frame. Smoke that carries a breath of foul aroma with it...

Looking for 2-4 heroes! No Vampires please as this takes place during the afternoon. The Kindred will all be snug and warm in their coffins, at this point.

[Star]

Every job has it's pitfalls.

Learning a new job? Learn the pitfalls first. Pulling cable sucks, true story. But, you have A Thing that needs to go from Here to There, and that's the job. It's linear. Measurable progress, measurable goal. The job is the job, and when it's done you move on to the next job. Taking pictures? Little different. Sure, there are jobs. Somewhere, there's a fender bender or award ceremony that needs a picture for D-13. But if not? Photojournalism. It's a euphemism for wandering around looking for Interesting Things to take pictures of.

Girls doing yoga in the park don't count. True story.

Run-down houses are A Thing. Run-down is only one light filter away from Creepy. Plus, you never know. Crack house. Buffalo Bill. Omars.

Fires.

Fires?

Hands lowered the camera. Which was dumb, since it saw further and more clearly, but, whatever. Camera again. Zoom, window. Gross, yo. What's burning? Carpet?

Closer. Put the camera away.

[West]

OOC

The enthusiasm is appreciated but the discussion for this Story is here!

@Romana Bohannon Weavebreaker

[Coco]

What was an afternoon like when it was experienced through the eyes of a murderer? Unfortunately, that was a question Cosima Tascioni, Claviger and killer of menial security personnel, intimately knew the answer to. It consisted of waking up past noon in a bed far too large for just one individual. Then a shower was had until all heat fled from her limbs and the ancestor of ice fell upon her like death's baptism. Shivering, numb, a fall back onto the bed and beneath the covers was required. Blissful unconsciousness. Awaking fifteen minutes later by the kneading claws of a stomach demanding food. Clothing was donned, a cab was hailed, and a cafe was visited for beverage and breakfast. Then she wandered, head buried within the mournful embrace of bass and floating piano notes, cane swinging idly by her side, her gloved off hand occasionally smoothing out an imagined wrinkle on her blue velvet suit.

It was a dull world that she wandered through. That was, of course, until she see a deliciously fit woman sprint off the side walk, up the steps of some terribly positioned tragedy of house, and then began beating herself against the front door.

"What in damnation is she doing?" Coco cried, yanking her ear beads out and darting over to the mop haired cameraman. Frantically she looked between him and the woman, and somewhere in between her eyes alighted upon that which was alight in the house.

"Aha! So she's trying to be a hero, is she? Well she shant be the only one! Come, I shall gain us less painful entry."

With that the wasp was dashing around the house, headed for a backdoor or a back window, the idea that perhaps she might soon learn what the afternoon of a true hero felt like bright in her mind.

[Star]

He had pictures now.

Some chick, running into a house...

...breaking down the door.

Fire departments are a thing, right? Who does that? Stay on point. Guardians? They're the ambulance chasers of the Awakened. Who knows who's going to Awaken, or how.

"Is, uh. Is that... velvet?"

That was really the only thing that came to mind. In that moment between the rapid fire words, and darting off, that was the singular thought that could be mustered in regards to the flame haired woman.

Blue.

Velvet.

Who does that? Get a couple of pics of that, too. Pop Quiz: Two chicks run into a burning building. What do you do? Put the camera away. Follow.

What's the worst that could happen?

[Yumyumcrow]

Allison bounds into action and careens into the door. The door, for its part, decides to be obstinate and unyielding. At least there is a resounding bang as hard, toned, body meets wood.

Coco follows behind. Rather than join the charge the wasp skitters and slides through the overgrown yard, ripping through uncut grass and neglected flower beds to reach the back door. At least here there is evidence someone has actually cared for the garden: a season's worth of leaf litter and weeds cover the damp earth and overgrown flower beds; there are some rose bushes that are on the verge of turning wild through sustained poor pruning. The shed looks on, almost pleading.

Last of all comes the curious reporter.

So far, no one else seems to have noticed, but with a bang like that, surely that will change soon.

[Star]

"Stick together!"

It wasn't the manliest of yells, but hopefully the Velveteen Rabbit would hear. Orange. Carrots. Rabbit. Get it?

"Oh, hey, right, okay, but? First? Ummmm. Did you just... I mean, maybe it's open?"

Story of his life. Another woman to yell at him. Deft fingers found the door handle, twisting and pushing...

  1 Success to open dat door!

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-02-17 15:38:05		Star rolls 9 to Loosen the Threads (10 Again)		5, 5, 5, 2, 7, 10, 5, 6, 6, 3		1 success

[Coco]

Aha! Another portal, and this one hopefully unobserved! A quick glance around revealed that she hadn't been followed, an idea confirmed by shouting from the front, and the beginnings of a smile appeared on her lips. Truthfully, Coco was more than glad that she hadn't been followed, though she did think that it was a poor idea to run around inside a burning building without anyone knowing where she was. But, ah! Well! Nothing could be done about it now. Glory lurked within the grasp of flame, and she was determined to find it. There was no point in living in a dull world. Either she would shine, or well, she would shine. There was no alternative for Cosima Tascioni!

Cane gripped tightly, the Wasp faced the back door and then with a quiet "Aha!" she skipped through, no portal able to deny the entry of her glorious self.

  1 success to walk through the back door

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-02-17 19:24:04		Coco! rolls 3 to Separation 2 - Breaching Barriers (pres2+wyrd2-1) (10 Again)		5, 10, 4, 6		1 success

Coco spends 1 glamour and uses Contract of Separation 3 to walk through the back door.