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A Stranger in the Kitchen

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  1. #21
    Star's Avatar
    (News Media)
    New Identity
    (Jack Hoyle)

    The Mirage: Star appears translucent with overlapping and slightly offset images of himself in different identities/disguises.
    Star Scenes
     Dispel Magics, Par Mit, Lesser Transmo, Shadow Sculpting (Non-Ruling)


    "Who's the OG of what now?"

    There's about four different topics (okay, ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ) up in the air, which is all cool. But one of them? No context. Curious angel is curious!

    "Phoenyx is okay."
    Get in where you fit in. "Her boyfriend has some some Secrecy issues, though. Which is weird, since she's his babysitter." Deft hands found their way around the food, piling it up on a plate. "Like, okay, I don't know if they're a thing but they sure look like a thing."

    You know what a thing looks like. That extra bit of attention. Who a person pays attention to first, prioritizes. Stares at without realizing they're staring.


    Like that. Tyche may be the looker and that pink is hard to miss, but it's sables and greens that he studies before moving beside to lean over for a shoulder bump. Just as an example.

    "By the way? Noticed that,"
    he mimed turning a key in a lock at Tyche. "Cool, cool. But, to be fair, like, rewind back to Phoenyx, I don't think she's going to let Anima get away with that Eddie Haskell routine*." He puts his plate down and mimes taking a picture of B-Ro. Shocked face: captured for reference. Cap it off with a nudge at Avis and waving his fork at Camper van Beethoven when he picks his food back up. "He's dying to go explore the tunnels. Like every time a group thing comes up, he low-key slides it in."

    That's not snitching. Just an explanation, yo. Color one angel happy that everyone seems cool with the perma-visitation.

    Dying. Moros. Gotcha.

    Nimbus in MiniSheet 2. Cloaked spells, no overt magical res. Scrut for deets.
    '...Watch With Glittering Eyes...'
    - Roald Dahl

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  3. #22
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose

    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.


    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.

    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3


    "This!" comes a poutscowl, along with a fork pointing to her hair. There's a pepper on it. Which is eaten. Quickly. "Have you seen this new Shaman? No? Gawd She's like, let's be hair besties" she says in a high voice. A very poor imitation of the Arrow's cadence.

    She lets out a raspberry gusty sigh.

    "They're an ex-thing." she says, fort tapping the air, she dives in for more sausage. "Recent I think. So. Still in that post-thing-awkward. Which is like suuuuper bad now. What with the. Baby.Sitter.Thing."

    There's another moment, a different sigh. A slump, a head plops into a hand, as a mournful look is given to her plate.

    "Why'd ya have ta bring Anima into breakfast?"
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

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  5. #23
    Avis's Avatar

    Vulgar: Color drains from the immediate area and depth perception becomes temporarily skewed, everything seeming to draw in uncomfortably close, making rooms smaller and all but distant objects seem in reach.
    Vice: Color drains from Avis and her facial features seem indistinct and grainy, as though her identity is growing less defined.
    Virtue: Colors appear more vibrant and everything seems to become grander in scale.


    "I definitely want a key. So hook me up when you get a chance," Avis said to Tyche, pausing for a moment to study the other brunette. Seemed she'd maybe pushed back a little too hard. Or, maybe the Guardian was just a naturally reserved and watchful person, which, of course, wouldn't be that surprising. Likely, it was both. Regardless, she suspected that everyone in the room, herself included, had their guards raised. Ironically, it was probably Campanella that was being the most open. Even the pink haired woman was hiding behind the food and that brusque manner.

    Like spoke to like, after all.

    But, whatever, she was the one disrupting whatever emotional ecology they'd managed to build (which, honestly, didn't seem to be much), and so it was her responsibility to put in the effort needed to help coax it along again.

    "I definitely think we should do some urban exploring. Delve some tunnels beneath the city, see what we find in the dark. But that's a future thing. Something to plan. Sooo..."

    The Warlock trailed off, thinking back to all of the cabal-bonding she'd done in the past. What would be the best method with this group? Something that allowed them to share, but to do so under the guise of the activity. Truths and lies was out. Too obscure. Hmm. Something a little freer, but with room for depth.


    "Let's play the association game. It's pretty simple. Basically, we each make a list of random words. Let's say...three words. Keep it easy. They could be, like..."

    Avis broke off, those swamp water eyes roving over the room.

    "Fork. Fjord. Computer. So, that would be my list. Normally, you wouldn't share the list out all at once. Instead, every round you choose a word to share to the group. Everyone in the group picks one of the words the others shared, and then tells a little a story based off of how they associate with that word/idea in the scheme of their life. So, for instance, let's say Star shared the word fork, then, when it was my turn, I would chose that one. I'd start off by saying that I actually like forks better than spoons, because when I was growing up in an asylum, forks made me feel safe. They're pointy, and not as flimsy as plastic knives, so it was easier to jam them into the skin and get them to stick. But, after a few orderlies had to get one of the doctors to remove plastic fork tines from beneath their skin, I lost fork privileges and could only use spoons. So...I don't really like spoons. Even if I have to use them to eat what I like."

    Her eyes tracked over to the abandoned pudding cup on the counter, with a spoon sticking out of it before she looked back to the group.

    "Then, the next person would go. So, what do y'all say? Give it a go?"
    "Aw-Vee". Pres 2 (Moody). Mastigos, Adamantine Arrow. Trace of a Cajun accent.
    Defense: 8. 3 cloaked spells. Phone (pot 6), Belt (pot 5), Self (pot 2 +3)

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