Well, darn it. I couldn't see any upside to her discouraging the heroes from seeking their services, but I'm going to need to look more carefully in the future. Fortunately, Aegis is more on the ball than I was. A point in favor of the Brute - he obviously doesn't think that a lack of a Thinker rating should stop him from using his head. That's a good attitude to have in the Wormverse. A pity that all too often isn't enough versus Endbringers.
This is only semi-related, but I'm currently designing and assembling a big catalog of magic items for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign I'm working on, and some Worm powers make good inspiration. So far I have items inspired by Grue, Vex... and Cirrata. I've nerfed her portal-cutting into the ground and I'm still a bit scared to see what my players with do with it! (I want to adapt Chevalier's power, but his is hella hard without either making it overly broad and powerful or limiting its applications so tightly it becomes uninteresting)
"In the circle~" you softly sing. The gull must have caught the ominous undercurrent, because it redoubles its futile struggle. "The ciiircle of life~" Nom!
After the guys head home, you quickly finish your report, heroically omitting the karaoke high score you got on Walking In The Air. Wow! While you're being all professional, might as well do some reading for the meeting with Avalon tomorrow. It's polite, if nothing else.
Huh. I wonder if we could have a karaoke party with the wards when we get a chance.
Also, Walking in The Air is an amazingly beautiful song. Seriously.
As for questions to ask Avalon, @ThePastryKing seems to have a good start with his vote:
[X] Ask why they put you so high on the list. It makes you genuinely curious, and it doesn't seem to make that much sense. Unless it really does make sense.
-[X] Also, ask them what they mean by "Undesirable Side-Effects". Sounds ominous.
The only thing I may want to add in is a few examples of said side effects, because I doubt that the selected samples in the brochure are completely bias-free, but that point would probably be a natural extension of the sub-vote, so I don't really think it warrants more.
I'm actually pretty sure that Coil did this literally to Tattletale.
As far as I know she and Dinah where the only ones coerced, aside from Taylor being strung along with promises he'd never keep, however it does prove he's willing to.
I'm actually pretty sure that Coil did this literally to Tattletale. As far as I know she and Dinah where the only ones coerced, aside from Taylor being strung along with promises he'd never keep, however it does prove he's willing to.
The issue was the word all in 'put a gun to all their subordinates' heads'. Canon Coil prefers carrots over sticks. Tattletale (assuming her power read his pitch correctly) and Dinah were exceptional; the third most powerful precog in the setting, and a Thinker powerful enough to draw the Simurgh's attention, twice. Exceptions.
While Tattletale does prepare for contingencies, she shows no signs of wanting to take down Coil before Taylor and Leviathan. She likes having Coil's power as a safety net, and leaving the Undersiders over Dinah wasn't even a consideration. The gun-to-her-head thing is exaggerated in fanfic.
The issue was the word all in 'put a gun to all their subordinates' heads'. Canon Coil prefers carrots over sticks. Tattletale (assuming her power read his pitch correctly) and Dinah were exceptional; the third most powerful precog in the setting, and a Thinker powerful enough to draw the Simurgh's attention, twice. Exceptions.
While Tattletale does prepare for contingencies, she shows no signs of wanting to take down Coil before Taylor and Leviathan. She likes having Coil's power as a safety net, and leaving the Undersiders over Dinah wasn't even a consideration. The gun-to-her-head thing is exaggerated in fanfic.
Prior to Leviathan, Tattletale couldn't trust any of the Undersides to not betray any plan to Coil. Knowing what we know she could have gone to Taylor.
Sure she won't turn down his power as a safety net however she also wouldn't choose to be in her situation.
However I did overlook the 'all' bit of Always Lates comment. If nothing else that's just excessive in most circumstances, people are happy to work for him because he exchanges money for goods and services. He probably just has anyone who could spill secrets killed quietly after they quit.
Prior to Leviathan, Tattletale couldn't trust any of the Undersides to not betray any plan to Coil. Knowing what we know she could have gone to Taylor. Sure she won't turn down his power as a safety net however she also wouldn't choose to be in her situation.
Definitely, Tattletale would want out, but not as badly as some fanfic portray. The Undersiders were a comfortable situation from which she could leisurely amass personal wealth and secrets in relative safety. Without Taylor, betrayal would've still happened eventually, but how or when is anyone's guess. I'd say a lot later, personally.
Coil does let Circus, Über and Leet live after they leave Brockton Bay, but in fairness, Coil has Dinah to do risk assessment for him by then. So agreed, could see him tie up loose ends.
Coil does let Circus, Über and Leet live after they leave Brockton Bay, but in fairness, Coil has Dinah to do risk assessment for him by then. So agreed, could see him tie up loose ends.
Yeah but what secrets did they really have to spill? He hired them for the job in which he faked his death.
Worst case scenario they tell other people that they think he's dead.
Surprisingly lots. Coil being alive, orchestrating the scandal that saw Piggot demoted, owning two out of three mayor candidates, owning the Undersiders and the Travelers, Coil's pet S-class eatmonster (probably), and being Thomas Calvert. Probably a few other things - Circus was on Coil's payroll longer than the Undersiders.
Surprisingly lots. Coil being alive, orchestrating the scandal that saw Piggot demoted, owning two out of three mayor candidates, owning the Undersiders and the Travelers, Coil's pet S-class eatmonster (probably), and being Thomas Calvert. Probably a few other things - Circus was on Coil's payroll longer than the Undersiders.
We seem to be assuming different amounts of what he told them. I assumed that he said "Heres ten thousand dollars so do what I say." similar to the earlier deals with the Undersiders. Whereas you seem to think he's involved Brockton Bays laughing stock villains in coming up with high level plans. Ubers planning ability could be excellent, however I don't think anyone in the bay really thought of him as anything but wasted potential.
The Undersiders and Travellers started getting told stuff because they were controlling territory on his behalf, he couldn't just keep them entirely in the dark, Uber and Leet not so much.
As an aside, my laptop's keyboard is dying. Insert, =, Backspace, Slash, Enter, Right Shift, Home, End, Down Arrow and Right Arrow all randomly stop working. Occasionally, pushing one of these buttons magically makes all of the others work again, until they fail once more later. (Seemingly better results if I keep the laptop level or tilt it backwards???) The rest of the keyboard is perfectly fine. I'll take it in for repairs this week, but does anyone have any clue what the heck this is?
Sounds like the connections that make the plastic keys connect to the circuits that send the signals have broken or aren't connecting properly. It happens as they get old.
As an aside, my laptop's keyboard is dying. Insert, =, Backspace, Slash, Enter, Right Shift, Home, End, Down Arrow and Right Arrow all randomly stop working. Occasionally, pushing one of these buttons magically makes all of the others work again, until they fail once more later. (Seemingly better results if I keep the laptop level or tilt it backwards???) The rest of the keyboard is perfectly fine. I'll take it in for repairs this week, but does anyone have any clue what the heck this is?
Occasionally, pushing one of these buttons magically makes all of the others work again, until they fail once more later. (Seemingly better results if I keep the laptop level or tilt it backwards???)
I'm guessing it's a problem with the membrane, and sometimes when you tilt it the right way or push certain keys it's making the membrane move back into place.
Laptop keyboards are annoying and the only repair I know that gets used is just replacing them. The entire thing can be unscrewed, basically.
As an aside, my laptop's keyboard is dying. Insert, =, Backspace, Slash, Enter, Right Shift, Home, End, Down Arrow and Right Arrow all randomly stop working. Occasionally, pushing one of these buttons magically makes all of the others work again, until they fail once more later. (Seemingly better results if I keep the laptop level or tilt it backwards???) The rest of the keyboard is perfectly fine. I'll take it in for repairs this week, but does anyone have any clue what the heck this is?
That happened to me after I spilled hot tea on my laptop and now half of the buttons don't work. Try a virtual keyboard it sucks to have to point and click to type but it's better than nothing. I use it in conjunction with the remaining working buttons on mine.
My advice is to get a mechanical keyboard. I've never seen one break without being literally broken in half, and while they sometimes have single key failures, in general youre less likely to have to repair a single key on a mechanical keyboard than you are to have to replace an entire membrane keyboard.
In essence; they last forever.
plus they feel better to type on and stuff(and they're ez to clean)
[X] Attend Avalon's visit to the PHQ. Mist seems to like you; the connection might be useful.
- [X] Ask why they put you so high on the list. It makes you genuinely curious, and it doesn't seem to make that much sense.
- [X] Case 53 complications?
After your day off, your day out, it's weird to be back at the PRT building, gliding through its hallways. Weirdly comfortable. It's not that you're uncomfortable in the public eye, but being among the heroes and PRT personnel is just so much safer, in a lot of ways. No hidden villains. No accidental PR disasters. No civilians to offend by existing too loudly. You get to relax here.
It's not much of a surprise, but the more you care about the PRT and the Protectorate, the more you care about representing them, and the less you'll allow yourself to just do. It's... a chain around your neck, even if it's wrapped in silk and lined with nice messages and fuzzy feelings. It doesn't chafe, but it's still there, preventing you from flying too far or too fast. Stifling. Sometimes, you can see why Weld throws himself into work so much, why he rarely leaves his base voluntarily. Easier.
Also he can't fly. That might be a factor.
You sigh as you enter the elevator. Perhaps it's all part of being and becoming an adult – accepting constraints, welcoming compromise. A role that needs to be crawled into, like a hermit crab, migrating into a new shell, which conveniently ticks off crustaceans on the list of marine metaphors. The elevator opens, and you air-swim into the PR department, slithering at knee height through the maze of cubicles, humming the Jaws theme. Your path to Robyn's office is flanked by surprised jumps and startled cries and one spilled coffee.
Robyn's resting at her desk, her upper body lying on top of it, face hidden beneath a mop of red hair. "Mrggh," she either greets you or groans at the world in general.
"Morning! Hey, important question, can I eat calamari or would it be seen as cannibalism? Cannibalism is a big no-no for me, you know this."
Robyn groans again. "Don't hurt my head so early in the morning. I'll stuff you and rebrand you a pillow."
"Kaaay." She seems stressed out. Hmm. On the one tentacle, this seems right, proper, and indeed, the natural state of things. On the other tentacle, you like Robyn more than before. By the smell of her, she showered recently, so you're willing to make a cautious attempt at helping. You slither a few tentacles into her hair, mussing it up, massaging her scalp. "Busy?"
"Hmrgn," she acknowledges, probably? "New Wave kid joins out of town independents. Course we're busy."
"Is that something the PRT needs to spin?" You pull Robyn upright and gently rotate her head. Doctoring the spin doctor via spins. Crack. Yesss.
She sighs, half relief, half resignation. "If we don't, who will? We – nggh – have to account for Avalon anyway, and Shielder's a new element. New problems, different options. Damn strategic of them to pick up a hero, tell you that. Did you actually want something or just killing time?"
"You told me to stop by?" You hoist Robyn's arms above her head and wrestle with her shoulders until they surrender some frankly scary sounds. "My next PR event?"
"Right." She collapses back onto her desk and gives a weak wave, more a floppy spasm of the arm than anything. "Same story as last time. Allison has your files. You'll be fine."
You pause a moment. "And the punchline?"
She gives you a look from the corner of her eye. "You'll be fine." Oh. She actually trusts you? That... oh, well. Um? You're still a little befuddled when you finish your PR business and leave the department an hour later. Feels nice though.
After flying through the cafeteria and scooping a bunch of things into your chest, most of it even yours to take, you leisurely fly to the Rig for the afternoon meeting with Avalon. The weather's not as nice as yesterday, back to cold and windy, but at least it's dry, and the cloud-shadows moving over the city are interesting to watch.
And then a hand pokes into your inventory.
… okay? It's at the PRT building rooftop portal. After staying for a few seconds, the hand retracts, leaving behind a piece of paper. Either a PRT employee thinks your nigh-infinite storage makes a good place to toss their trash – the nerve! – or someone just left you a note. You spit up the paper.
Coming through!
Dennis appears in your inventory, making a flying dive through your portal, now soaring forward in zero gravity. Appropriately, he's making the fist-forward superhero pose. Okay, you haven't arrived at the PHQ yet, so now you have two options. One, leaving Dennis in the sensory deprivation of your inventory, which would be a mean thing to do to someone who isn't a villain, or two, bringing him out while soaring several hundred feet above the water of the bay, which would also be a mean thing to do, and completely hilarious.
Dennis will understand.
You remove all traces of lunch from your stomach and bring out Dennis, his feet in your knees, his upper body sticking out of yours.
"Heyoholy fuckballs." He gives you a very enthusiastic hug. Aww. You nuzzle into his neck a little.
"Heyoho." Look at you, inventing new greetings. Your flight's a lot slower now, but that's okay. Less wind, easier conversation. "Fuckballs?"
"Uh, sorry." With obvious reluctance, he breaks off the hug and pushes back to face you, hands firmly grasping your shoulders. He glances at the sea below. "Just uh, expressing how impressed I am by the charming locale."
"My insides?"
"That's absolutely what I meant."
Dennis says the nicest things.
The rest of the flight to the PHQ is spent chatting about the songs you posted online, which Vista found out about yesterday evening. She was very positive about them when she messaged you, as Dennis is being now, which is sweet of them, if a little odd. Embarrassing isn't quite it, but it's somehow much easier to be heard by strangers on the internet than your friends. You care more about people you care about – obvious really. They understand why you didn't tell them, you think. Self-promotion feels presumptuous somehow. Vista called you Shye.
Once arrived at the oil rig, you float into the PHQ lobby, leaving Dennis to his ground-kissing theatrics. A phone call and some portal shenanigans later, Aegis emerges out of one of your shields, dragging an armored Gallant behind him. It takes some squirming before the latter's through – his armor is big, your portals aren't, even if there's a little give. It's your power though, you can tell they'll manage. The PRT officers stationed around the room get a bit nervous about the unorthodox entry point, but it's all been authorized.
"This everyone?" you ask, looking at the three male Wards. "Sixteen plus or something?"
"Just how it worked out." Aegis taps on one of the armor plates on Dennis' costume. "We're here so Gallant doesn't look out of place."
"And Armsmaster wants me to get a read on our guests," Gallant explains, a soft smile audible through hard steel.
You turn to Dennis. "Not interested in Avalon?"
He shrugs. "Nah. The PRT'll set me up with custom gadgets once I'm in the Protectorate. No need for expensive risky career-wrecking Trumps. Half the reason I'm here is to get the silliness out of your system."
Hmm. Smart! With more experienced colleagues around to do the heavy lifting, you'll struggle to maintain the professional image you left with Mist during karaoke, and that would be terrible. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Dennis. I shall use it as a seat."
When Miss Militia descends the stairs into the lobby, you're still perched on top of Dennis' helmet, the small of your back on his skull, secured with tentacles. Hannah gives you a look that can't even be called curious – completely indifferent, or at least revealing nothing.
"Clockblocker, I have to ask you to stop wearing Skye as a hat."
Dennis makes a noise, strangled and sharp, no doubt happy he's getting the credit.
"We're modern art now," you explain. Miss Militia turns to Gallant and Aegis.
"Sorry ma'am."
"There was no place for us in their world."
Evidently deeming their excuses acceptable and valid, Hannah turns back to you. "Skye." Her voice is gentle, kind. In reply, you continue being a tentacled turban.
"Skye." Still that inexorable kindness.
…
"Skye."
"Okay okay, jeez, stop saying my name like that. Does weird things to my chest." You unwrap yourself from Clockblocker's cranium. "Where are the others, anyway?"
Miss Militia gives you an eye-smile. "Dauntless is escorting Avalon. The rest should still be in their offices."
"Do I have an office?" Sounds adult.
"Opposite to Triumph's. Ask him to show you later."
…?!
While your shock wears off, Assault comes down to the lobby. He calls you Cuddles, you call him Ass, some normality is restored. Velocity arrives next, then Armsmaster, who calls an informal briefing at the lobby's seating area. Apparently this is everyone then. Triumph already declined Avalon, but Battery… maybe she's doing things elsewhere. Pity. You've been trying to interact with her more, because it's clear you still unsettle her on some level, in some way she can't or won't get used to. Smiles fade a little too soon, conversation dries up. Maybe it's just a lack of chemistry. You'll add fire next time, or maybe explosions. The best chemistry.
"Everyone, pay attention." Armsmaster stands in front of the half-circle of heroes. "Avalon will be here momentarily. While Miss Militia and I will be making an attempt at recruitment, our primary goal of this meeting is intelligence. I've modified these earbuds to record audio for later analysis. Neither recordings nor analyses are admissible as proof in a court of law, so don't bother trying to trick them into confessions, just try to make conversation." He passes a box of earbuds to Aegis, who hands them out, an extra-large one going to you.
"Avalon's objective for this meeting is likely identical to ours, information," Armsmaster continues. "Be careful around their Thinker. Fragarach refers to a mythological blade with the ability to compel truthful answers, and after the Pelham meeting, it's clear he has some type of insight into falsehood. Under no circumstance is anyone to be alone with him."
"We have him on record as a combat Thinker, right?" Assault asks. "And now he's detecting lies? What are we looking at?"
"Unknown." The irritation is clear in Armsmaster's voice. You suppose this is a little taste of the annoyance Avalon could be – invalidation of former intelligence. "He may be a physical Thinker branching out to body language, or an auditory Thinker with insight into voices and the environment. It could also be an entirely separate capability granted by Nimue."
"If it's body language," Miss Militia says, "I'm curious to see how he'll respond to Cirrata."
Armsmaster turns to you. Hard to know what he's thinking with most of his face hidden. "It might be worth testing. Don't start a conversation with Fragarach, Cirrata. If he comes to you, give ambiguous or nonsensical answers. It might give us some kind of clue."
Nonsensical answers? Finally. An assignment you were born to do. And it doesn't even involve biting people or eating things.
"I was planning on asking them some questions." You spit up a small paper note. "I guess it'd be best if someone else asks them for me?"
"Show me." He glances at the note, back at you, then hands it to Velocity. "Approved."
When the members of Avalon arrive, they stride into the lobby in V-formation. Nimue front and center, Fragarach and Misteltein behind her, Shielder and Avalon's own forcefield user pulling up the rear. Dauntless awkwardly walks alongside.
Despite Mist's eye-catching apparel, Nimue still demands more attention. She wears a compact black dress, long-sleeved, with black gloves and boots. The only color, if you can call it that, comes from her hair, a blonde far more pale than Mist's. She looks absurdly elegant, absurd because a cape shouldn't be in a dress like that – at most, it'll let her speed-walk. Or maybe that's the implication: she won't be needing to run. With three or four bodyguards, one of them a Thinker on the lookout… yeah, the image is definitely deliberate. Her expression mirrors it – a placid smile, not arrogant, not taunting, just utterly at ease. Eye of the storm.
Oh. It's kinda nice how much you can see of her face. There's no mask at all, just a veil hanging from a circlet, hiding her eyes. It's about as useful as a domino mask, but her civilian identity is already known to the PRT and the European heroes, and maybe nomadic capes can be a little more lax with their identities.
Where Nimue almost looks monochrome, Fragarach goes all the way, sticking to blacks and whites. He's wearing an ordinary suit, his mask a grid reminiscent of a crossword puzzle. No real eyeholes, just a razor-thin horizontal slit. Not very impressive, likely by design.
Mist's there in all her asymmetrical glory, at least when you're looking at her directly. She's using her power, slipping out of your vision when you look elsewhere, like a blind spot automatically filled in by your brain except without Mist in it. It's weird, but not too disturbing from a distance. She waves. You wave back.
Last are the two forcefield users. Shielder is in blue, looking like he really wants to be elsewhere. You looked it up yesterday – he's fifteen, even younger than you initially thought. No age to throw a civilian life away by making Nimue transform a limb. New Wave had better drag him home soon. Beside Shielder is Avalon's forcefield user, Lancelot, a tall man in generic brown armor. Temporary costume, temporary name. Aegis' report said he's French and doesn't speak much English, or just doesn't want to.
The group stands in front of the heroic line-up, facing you and your teammates in an awkward stand-off.
"Cirrata." Armsmaster's voice comes out of your earbud, subvocalized. "Keep an eye on the Stranger. Out of everyone, you've been most exposed."
Okay! You promptly fly at Mist for a tackle. There's no way Armsmaster expects subtlety from you – that'd be silly. You're you. Lancelot and Fragarach both tense at the potential hostility, but Mist has her arms wide, and Nimue's smile doesn't waver.
"Heya sunshine." Mist gives you a bright smile as you slow down and bump into her, latching on with your tentacles. "What's up?"
"Neat." She pokes at your fleshy mouth-spines. Well, Mist seem to be okay with the situation. You glance at Armsmaster. He shows no reaction beyond an almost imperceptible nod. Seems like he's also okay with it.
… there's no problem? Baffling.
Ice broken, obliterated really, the groups start to mingle. The adult heroes greet Nimue and Fragarach, the Wards mob Shielder, Lancelot's derrière convenes with a nearby chair. You're interested in what the others have to say, but you can listen to the recordings later. You have your own things to find out.
"Hey, Mist." You hover in front of her. "Did you tell me Nim was mad to sabotage sales to the heroes?" To hell with intrigue and subtlety!
"I… no I didn't, Skye. I can see why you got the idea, but I would've explained if you'd asked. Nim is mad in a way that works in her customers' favor. I was just expressing some frustration as her teammate."
Hmm. "Okay.
"Just like that?"
"Sure." You shrug. "I'd rather find out you lied to me than be suspicious all the time. It'd be exhausting. Besides, it might be educative. I've never been betrayed yet." Except for Weld's claim about Hunch's hobbies, but he's a friend. You spread your torso, just a little, creating a dark orange-scented fissure. "I wonder how I'll react. Poorly, I think."
Mist glances between your face, your torso, and the tentacles securing her every limb. "You're being a little scary, Skye."
"I don't get to be scary on purpose much." It's almost refreshing! You close yourself and float to her side. "Sorry if you don't deserve it."
"Comes with our jobs, huh?" She flashes you a sad smile. "No worries. I have no intention of betraying you, and I haven't done anything you'd see as betrayal."
"Kay." That'll be an interesting sentence to let Armsmaster's analysis loose on.
Along with Mist, you drift back to the others. Fragarach is having a clearly private conversation with Armsmaster and Miss Militia, while most of the others are watching Velocity speak with Nimue.
"… and Shielder?" you catch Velocity saying. An accusation.
"I would ask that you refrain from implying Avalon preys on brash naivety." You can't see Nimue's face, but her voice is neutral and pleasant. You're willing to bet her smile hasn't changed since she stepped through the door. "His age is a significant consideration in any agreement we may make. Perchance a rendezvous when we visit the Americas next."
Velocity gives a terse nod that conveys no acceptance or agreement, just acknowledgement. His eyes flicker to you, then back to Nimue. "Some questions on behalf of my colleague, if you don't mind."
"By all means," she says, with the slightest inclination of her head.
"Can you change the bodies of case 53s? Parahumans with monstrous features, that is."
Nimue turns to you, seamless in her movement, clearly aware you were behind her. "Cirrata's magic sings to me. Out of tune, some, and foreign, but it will not resist my own." She thinks you're magic. Yay. "If you were asking whether I could grant her the ability to appear more human… even in optimal conditions, it is unlikely in the extreme. Nor am I inclined to make the attempt."
"Then why put her so high on your priority list?" Velocity asks your second question.
"A personal preference. I've not inquired." She turns to Mist, who mimes zipping her lips with a wink and a grin. "I allow my companions their eccentricities, as they allow me mine."
"To the point of making Cirrata a higher priority than the Protectorate Leader?"
Nimue aims her smile back at Velocity. "It is not a personal slight. I bestow abilities my clients do not already possess. The naturally flexible are… easily disappointed. They lack appreciation."
Oh. That explains why she doesn't want Armsmaster. Did it offend him, to be a lower priority than his subordinates? You hope not.
"Right. Personal questions now. How would your power change my power?" Oh. Unexpected. Velocity never gave you the impression he was unhappy with his power, though you did get the impression he wants to do more. "Body parts, right? Let's say hand, foot, and skull. I'll pay your preview rates."
"Skull?" Assault asks from the sidelines.
"You know my dad and gramps went bald young, shut up. I'd just glue a wig over it."
Nimue steps closer to Velocity, not quite within reach. "A suffocated march, falling with clipped wings, the wind singing a hymn of despair in endless crescendo, fearful of the finale. A song of terror and desperation. I'd be happy to change it." She points down. "Feet. An effect while traveling, pulses, physical, accumulative. Disorientation, through tremors perhaps. Hands. A mental effect upon touch, uncontrolled but debilitating. Despair, fear, lethargy. Short-lasting or a controlled duration. Skull. A vast shift toward the mental. Internal, not external, centered around personal performance. Flexible outside your altered state, powerful within."
"Striker for hands, Thinker for head, feet… Shaker I suppose. That a trend?"
"I claim no familiarity with your system. Enchantments form after my expectations, to an extent. My predictions are likely little more than self-fulfilling prophecies, though I do surprise myself on occasion."
"And you can't leave out the wound sharing?"
"No." Nimue's voice is a little sharper there, even if her smile is still unchanged. "Nor is that aspect of my ability in any way relevant to my product, leastways, to those who do not heal."
Assault holds up a familiar document. "There's a warning about it in your brochure though."
"Omission would be needlessly suspicious. All the same, that aspect of my power is irrelevant to the average customer."
"Because we should simply trust?" Back to Velocity. It's… a little uncomfortable how this feels like you're ganging up on Nimue, even if she shows no signs of being bothered by it. Mist seems to be fine with things too.
"I had hoped the people here could look beyond undesirable appearances and powers." Nimue doesn't look at you. She doesn't have to. It's a bit annoying to be used like that, even if you sympathize with having a PR-unfriendly power. "Trust enables all trade more advanced than barter, Velocity. Yes, I expect my customers to trust I will not swindle or extort them. I expect them to trust I hold my contracts sacred. I expect them to trust I will not abuse their information. This holds true for any company with a tested and proven history." Velocity starts to say something, but Nimue cuts him off. "Failing that, I expect my customers to trust in my fear of consequence. Should I ever exercise the distasteful aspect of my ability on an unwilling customer, I forfeit the life I wish to live. I am a trader. A provider of services to interested parties. I have no intention to involve myself in anything further."
Well. She sounds kinda convincing? Or convinced, anyway, not that you know much about business. Is this where you show some interest in them, to keep your options open? You're a little curious how your power might be changed and with your upgraded salary from signing up to the critical situation roster, you should be making six thousand dollars each month, so five hundred would only take a few days to earn back. At the same time, it's a little annoying Nimue can charge days' worth of work just for a few sentences, especially considering there's no guarantee of any kind. You're just not sure.
===
Check out your options?
[ ] Sure. It's not that expensive, and you're curious to know what kind of options are open to you. It might also be interesting to hear Nimue describe your 'song'. (Write-in body part.)
- [ ] 1: $500
- [ ] 2: $1000
- [ ] 3: $1500
[ ] Nah. You're versatile enough as it is. Your only interest in Avalon is keeping the city safe from the trouble they might cause.
[ ] Write-in
===
My laptop's in for repairs, so I'm typing this on a ridiculously old machine with a friggin' backslash button between the shift and the Z. Why even? I hope I caught all typos. There were a lot.
