CRYSTAL Los Angeles [Christine Tallin's friend Terry Grey has been brutally murdered, apparently by the same anti-metahuman fanatics who have been threatening her. Now burdened with police protection, and forced to turn to Billi Cameron for help in repairing her tarnished image, Christine's life is further complicated by a phone call from an old...friend.] [GM] Wasselhoff says nothing as you tell him about your career. He tries to look sympathetic, but you can tell he just doesn't understand why going to Billi has you so distraught. So he simply nods, having the sense to realize there's nothing else he can say. He raises an eyebrow when you tell him about Paul, but looks only mildly impressed. It's not as if Hollywood celebrities consorting with politicians is anything new, and being an L.A. cop, he's undoubtedly seen, or at least heard of, much more scandalous liasons. "Umm, I think I remember Senator Lewis", he says. "From Virginia, right?" He shrugs in a calculated manner. "I'm not trying to butt into your personal life, Ms. Tallin...least, not more than this situation forces me to already. You understand, though, my wanting to know just who this was who can "check out" an ongoing police investigation..." And who claims the police are inadequate, though Wasselhoff doesn't mention that part of Paul's message. <><><><><> -- "It's not..." Chris stops herself, smiling sadly. "I was about to say 'it's not like you think,' but I guess it really is, or at least was. I mean, it doesn't do me any good to deny it and there's no reason to anyway, with what you've heard. But I would like it if you could try to forget it. I'm going to call him and explain things and that should be all there is to it." But she goes into her own room and closes the door before dialing the number Paul left her to call him when she needed to get in touch..." <><><><><> [GM] It's getting towards late evening on the East Coast, but that means Paul could equally well be at his Virginia home or in his Washington office. Fortunately, he's at home. The "Hello?" you hear, after the third ring, is his live voice, not an answering machine...you suddenly feel like it would have been easier just to leave a message. But hearing his voice in person brings on a flood of feelings that you'd naively convinced yourself you'd put behind you. <><><><><> -- Christine's words catch in her throat. This was supposed to be easy, he was on the other side of the country, after all. It was just... "Hello, Paul. It's Chris. So, what's new with you?" <><><><><> [GM] "Chris!" He sounds surprised, and delighted, and eager. And the old warmth and charm immediately floods into his voice. "Chris...how are you, sweetie? Not much new with me...but it sounds like a LOT is new with you." Pause. "How are you holding up? Is there anything I can do for you? You know that if L.A. is getting a little rough for you, you can always come out here..." <><><><><> -- "No, I can't, Paul. It's my friends they're after out here, so I have to stay, to try to do something. Besides, I don't think either of us would like the headlines about the Senator and his freak girlfriend." The suggestion frightens her, more than any other hint of publicity for their prior relationship. Now it would destroy him, quickly. And probably her, except for what little she could get on the "bimbo" circuit. There's nothing else that could happen. "Anyway, I'm working here. I've got some people arranging a publicity offensive, trying to counter all the negatives. I've got photo shoots, interviews, TV appearances... Or I hope I will. I've certainly had enough offers. I'm too busy to run East now, and this is too important. People are scared, Paul. Scared of what's happening. And I don't know for sure what that is, but I don't want anyone to be scared. "Now listen to me... The detective who is keeping an eye on me heard your message, and I don't think he was too impressed with the suggestion that you could do things he couldn't manage. But I think maybe you should. But be careful. There's a group, I don't know who they are, but they're in the government and they've known about this for some time. They tried to sign me up for some government super-agent group while I was in New York. I think if you go poking around, you could get their attention. And I can say one thing from experience... I don't think they're above breaking a few eggs to make their omelette. And I want to see you again in one piece, so you keep well. I'll be in touch when I can, all right?" <><><><><> [GM] Paul sighs. "All right." Pause. "I miss you, Chris." Then he continues in a more businesslike fashion. "I've...heard something about the government's little super-agent project. Details are starting to emerge, now that superhumans are popping up all over the place. Don't worry, though, a top-secret government shadow-agency is nowhere near as fearsome as a Congressional subcommittee." He laughs easily, showing that he acknowledges the seriousness of what you're telling him, but wants to put your mind at ease. "If there's *anything* I can do for you, gorgeous, call me right away, all right? And, umm, we're in the process of figuring out how to cope with superhumans even as we speak. All kinds of proposals have been brought up on the floor already, from the sensible to the absurd. It may come to a point where we need testimony from someone who knows about superhumans first-hand...someone like you. Especially if you're successful with your positive image campaign- and I think that's an excellent idea, Chris- you may find yourself drafted as a spokesperson for metahumans. Are you prepared for that?" <><><><><> -- Chris should have expected something like this. It wasn't anything unusual, she'd been asked to speak at environmental rallies because of her looks, her voice, her name recognition. Why shouldn't she end up becoming one of the official spokesman of the new superhuman community? Like there is one... she only knows a handful of other people with powers anything like hers, and one of those was trying to kill her rather than talk. "I'm not ready for it now, Paul. But I will be once I meet more people who've ended up with powers, gotten a better idea what the real direction all this is going is. And with you helping keep me alert to the problems and troublemakers 'in the beltway,' I can start now to try to not make things any worse in my TV appearances. What are the fears up there? What would I be better not to say?" <><><><><> [GM] Paul sighs. "The main problem is that right now, there's really no way to control....people like you. I mean...frankly, we've been lucky so far that the worst metahumans have ended up, err, dead. I know it's terrible Chris, but what prison could have held Lucy Golden? The Israelis have come up with the only viable solution thus far, and that's to drug the uncontrollable ones...and we'll have major civil rights problems trying to implement that here. Not to mention, drugging may not work on all metahumans. I can tell you, there are a lot of people on the National Security Committee wondering what we'll do if Paladin ever decides to stop being nice..." "The worst threat will be an 'us' and 'them' mentality, Chris. If people remember that metahumans are our sons and daughters and friends and...lovers, then you remain human beings with extraordinary powers. But if you begin setting yourselves apart from normal people, you'll be perceived as a race of gods walking among us...yet not subject to our laws. I know that may sound a bit melodramatic, but there are already some ominous rumors. Umm, I really can't tell you more right now, Chris, but...whoever is trying to terrorize you, it may be part of a larger phenomenon. I'm trying to see what the Justice Department can do, *without* their intruding in your life directly again. But...you might end up getting a visit from them again." <><><><><> -- "I know you'll do what you can. And so will I. If it means I have to put up with those people again, I will. But I don't trust them at all. The agent I met was nice enough, but his superior... I'm worried when I think people that cold are making any kind of decision at all. "But I'll be careful, and you be careful too. I just wish it was a week ago when everything was normal..." <><><><><> [GM] "I'm afraid there are a lot of 'cold' people in the government, Chris," Paul says. "Please keep in touch. And I'll let you know if I find out anything that might help you." Off the phone, you spend some time thinking, while you hear Detective Wasselhoff using the phone in the living room. When you go back out into the same room, he says "Ms. Cameron has already received death threats. The Hollywood police department is going to increase its patrols near her agency, but I understand she's hiring a private security firm." <><><><><> -- "I will, Paul. I... I need to know there's someone, somewhere..." Christine is suddenly embarrassed by what she's saying, what she's feeling. A week ago, this was all over. When she first heard his message on the machine, she wasn't going to call except to tell him that. And now... "'Bye." She hurriedly hangs up the phone and, after taking a moment to collect her thoughts, heads out to where the detective waits. "I expected that. I'm glad Billi is taking this seriously, but I wouldn't have thought otherwise." The silence that follows that observation threatens to swallow Chris, though it couldn't be that long... "Detective... I guess we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, but if we're going to have to spend time together, we're going to have to get comfortable with it. Especially because there isn't much here to fill time except talking... I spent most of my time working or trying to keep up with the social set, so there's not much here to fill time. So let's start this right..." She offers him her hand, a simple gersture. "I'm sorry about all the attitude and selfishness. I can't promise there won't be any more, because I'm a selfish person or I wouldn't have made it this far. But I'll try, and that's all I can promise. And, from now on, it's 'Chris,' all right?" <><><><><> [GM] "Um...OK, Chris." He shakes your hand and smiles. "Don't worry about the attitude...I've met worse, believe me. Actually, you're a lot more together than most women would be under these circumstances." "So," he asks, "What are you going to do now? Wait to hear from Ms. Cameron?" <><><><><> -- "Thanks... but I've been a lot worse than I should have been and I've blamed you for a lot of things that weren't your fault or that made sense. Like last night, when I snapped at you for suggesting I look into some training how to protect myself with these powers. You're right, I should. And all I did was act like it was some insult and storm away. I bet right then you didn't think I was all that 'together,' did you?" She smiles slightly, hoping this serves as some sort of an apology for last night. Then she considers his next question. "I don't really know, Detective. I'm letting other people take care of my life right now and it's hard not to be on the phone calling every person to check up, to make sure Billi's doing things right, but I know that's wrong. It would just cause trouble. I could probably use a few minutes working out, since my normal routine has gone to hell recently, but I really don't think I'm in the mood. What I'd like to do..." Her smile grows and she looks down slightly, then over to meet the detective's gaze. "Do you like Chinese, Detective?" <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff shrugs. "Like I said, cops have to deal with all kinds of angry people, and half the time we get blamed just 'cause we're there after bad stuff happens. Believe me, if I took it personally every time someone bitches me out 'cause they're under stress, I'd find another line of work." He smiles at your suggestion. "Sure, Chinese is fine." You get dressed casually to go out, and Wasselhoff drives again as you head for a Chinese place you know that's open late evenings. As he's driving, he says, "Back to the subject of your powers, it might be helpful to find out just how tough you are as Crystal...like, *can* you bounce bullets? Although, I'm not sure how you could safely test that. Secondly, that laser blast you do. If it's a natural part of you, it's probably something you can improve with practice." As the conversation turns to your powers, you notice the policeman frowning as he looks at the rear view mirror. "Uh oh." "I could be wrong, but I think maybe we're being tailed." <><><><><> -- "No, I think finding out if I'm bulletproof is something I'd rather leave for another day. But the light... I've practiced some with that. I can make it come out soft, just a glow, or bright without burning, like a camera flash. But it also burns, I guess you're right, like a laser. But it's very tiring to use it like that, like I was a battery for light and that was using it up, draining me..." His words make her stop in her discussion of her newfound abilities and she looks back herself, though she doesn't know what to look for. "What should we do? I mean, you can lose them, can't you?" <><><><><> [GM] "I probably can," Wasselhoff says, "but I'd rather nab 'em instead." He pulls out his radio, and calls for some undercover units to rendezvous and tail the car that's tailing you. The car abruptly swerves onto a side street behind you. Wasselhoff swears. "They must have a police-band radio!" He slams on the brakes, then looks at you. "So they probably are involved....maybe the other units will be able to intercept that car." He doesn't look hopeful. "Umm, you still want to go for Chinese, after their latest scare tactic?" <><><><><> -- "Police radio? Isn't that illegal? I mean, in a car?" Christine takes a moment after saying that before realizing how foolish it was. "Like that would matter after all they've done, right? Still, it means they're pretty well organized. And that this wasn't just some whim or something they're new at. These people have been after someone before, probably before there were any people anywhere with powers like mine." But she's happy to turn the conversation to simpler things. "If you think it's safe. We've lost them, I doubt they can pick us up before we make it to the restaurant. And I'd like to think I can do *something* other than hide from them." <><><><><> [GM] "You're right, these people aren't just some local nutcases with homemade bombs. But we don't know much more than that, yet." He starts driving again. "I don't think anywhere is entirely safe right now...no telling whether they'd actually try to attack you in broad daylight with dozens of witness, but I wouldn't be surprised. Still, trying to get you to hide from sight may be one of their objectives. If so, we have to balance the risk with the benefits- if you defy them and remain in the public eye, they're bound to keep coming, and *if* we're very careful, and alert, that gives us an opportunity to nail them." The detective scowls. "I don't remember if anyone mentioned to you the fact that something similar occurred up north recently, in the Bay Area. Another man who may or may not have been a superhuman was inexplicable attacked on at least three occasions. Usually drive-by shootings, but at least one was a trap set up in a library...after hours. In fact, I understand that this man also had a policeman assigned to stay with him, but he slipped away to meet with whoever was leaving threatening phone calls. Figured he'd handle it on his own." Wasselhoff gives you a meaningful look. "He was ambushed by someone armed with a heavy military-style assault weapon, *and* the library was rigged with bombs." After letting that sink in, he adds "The man survived. And I *think* he ended up being recruited by your friends, the federal government. Naturally, that's where *my* ability to track him down ends...the Justice Department isn't telling us anything else." "I don't like to believe in conspiracy theories, but the incidents do sound a little too similar to be coincidental, don't they?" <><><><><> -- "So when we're in public, we're trying to be noticed, but not in advance. No warnings, just enough so they panic and try to act without planning... Sounds dangerous. And I don't want to see anybody else hurt if we can avoid it. I know you don't either. So we're not going to do too much of this. Not until we know more about them." Christine listens carefully as the similar story is told to her. She had heard something earlier, but nothing this detailed. It was exactly what was happening to her, no question. So this was even more organized than she could have imagined... "You're right. A lot too similar." She is silent for a moment, then looks back over at him. "Do you think it would help to talk to him. I mean, the other target? I've got a number, some names... I'm sure we could work out some kind of deal with the Government if we have to." Or Paul could if she couldn't... though that is certainly a last resort... <><><><><> [GM] "It is dangerous," Wasselhoff agrees. "You're right, it's not a game we want to play. If we don't get a shot at them quickly, we'd better change tactics....probably to something involving you staying *out* of sight." "You might be able to learn something by talking to this other man. I'd guess the Justice Department will probably be willing to talk to *you* about it...though I guess you know they'll want to use it as leverage. I think I can at least get you the name of the other alleged metahuman." Nothing untoward happens as you enjoy a quiet Chinese dinner. As you finish up, Wasselhoff brings up your powers again. "Since you seem to have a natural weapon...that laser blast, your best bet is probably learning to use it, accurately. Normally, if someone is being stalked, I may or may not advise them to get a gun and learn to use it, depending on whether I think they can handle it. Some people are only going to endanger themselves if they try arming themselves. But I think you've got the nerves to defend yourself, and you've got a built-in weapon whether you want it or not, so you might as well prepare yourself to use it." "And it would also be a good idea to find out how many 'shots' you have with it. Unless it's something you can do as long as you're still standing. Do you know? I mean, I can't even guess what it's like to fire a beam of light from my hand." <><><><><> -- "You get me the name, I'll make the calls. I don't see where there's all that much choice, really." Chris is happy to enjoy a quiet meal, happy for once to remain totally unrecognized. And as the conversation turns back to her powers, she listens intently, thoughfully... "I'm not sure it will be anything constant. It's more like Crystal can store light, so being in light charges some sort of... I don't know, a battery of some sort. And when it's full, it's always there, pressing to be let out. As a glow, a flare, the laser... Letting it go is almost easier than holding it in." She considers for a moment, then looks back toward the detective. "I don't think a commercial shooting range is a good idea. Can you get permission to use the police range for this test? I mean, if you really want to go through with it." <><><><><> [GM] "I think I could do that, though it would be best to arrange sometime when it would be just the two of us." He drives you back to your apartment. There are more messages on the phone, mostly more journalists. One is from Billi. "Chris....call me first thing tomorrow morning. Very important." She sounds curt and businesslike, not her usual effervescent, deceptively bubbly self. <><><><><> -- "You're probably right... I wouldn't want to cause any undue problems for anyone, or any worry. You make the arrangements and we'll consider that a date." Chris smiles then, more relaxed after the meal than she expected to be, especially given the tense beginnings and the serious dinner conversation. But there are some things that can get better thanks to sesame chicken, and her mood is certainly one of them. But the phone call changes that quickly. "That didn't sound like Billi at all. Something's happened. I should call her now..." <><><><><> [GM] You have Billi's unlisted home number. You're not sure if she'll like you using it, though. She routes ALL her business calls through her answering service, and has been known to tear someone apart for calling her at home...one of her little quirks. <><><><><> -- "Except..." Chris stops with the phone already in her hand, the waiting hum of the dial tone leaking out. "Billi hates business on her personal line. I've heard stories... And I don't think this is something personal or she would have said. She wouldn't have sounded so..." She looks at the detective then, worry clear on her face. "Do you think whoever it is who's after me has started threatening all of Billi's people? They don't seem afraid of claiming 'guilt by association,' and if they did she wouldn't be able to... But I *need* her, I can't handle this on my own. I can't..." The phone has started to buzz, ignored for too long, but it will be ignored longer as Chris stands, shaking, unable to decide what to do... <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff lays a hand on your arm gently. "She said call tomorrow, so it isn't an emergency, or she didn't think so, anyways. Maybe she did get a threat...if so, hopefull she'll report it to the police. She didn't seem like a lady who's easily intimidated, though." "I'll call and make sure that there's a patrol car checking on her business office regularly, and if anything happens during the night...I'll wake you and let you know, OK?" <><><><><> -- "If it wasn't important, why would she call *me* tonight? She could have waited until the morning as easily as I can." Chris manages a slight smile. "Probably easier, with the way my nerves are right now." The smile fades slowly. "I guess I did over-react. But it's hard to know what to do. I feel so helpless. I didn't think super-heroes were supposed to feel helpless. I guess they made that up right along with the dramatic origin story. I mean, how dramatic is 'I woke up one morning and I could turn into a glass statue?'" She pauses, realizing that she's started to ramble. "Thank you, Detective. I... know you're doing everything you can. Thank you." <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff smiles and gently puts the phone down. "I think you're doing fine. Just get some sleep, OK? Like I said, I'll keep you informed if anything happens. We can go check on Ms. Cameron tomorrow." <><><><><> -- "You're right. Good night, Detective." Chris makes her way back to her room, pushing the door to the jamb, but not fully closing it. She doesn't need to be protected from the detective, and he might hear something in her room that wouldn't wake her up. She changes into an oversized nightshirt, then switches out the lights and tries to get past her too many worries and to sleep... <><><><><> [GM] You sleep, and you dream... Terry, when you first met...you had just had your first Cosmo cover, your star was rising, and you were beginning to get big-headed. His gentle humor, and refusal to take you seriously, infuriated you at first, but gradually you came to trust and rely on him as you did few other people in your life.... After a few too many arguments with big names in the field, you were getting a reputation for being "difficult" (the old double-standard, a man in your position would win kudos for being assertive in sticking up for himself, but you were an "uppity bitch".) And after missing out on yet another big shoot- you came so close to making the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, but then you were s***-canned and your career went into a year-long slump...sometimes Terry and Betty seemed like your only friends in the business. You were so happy for him when he won a prestigious award for the commercial photography he did for a Calvin Klein campaign...you took him to dinner at an expensive restaurant, and had a wonderful time....you reflected on what a good man he was, kind-hearted, honest, sympathetic, witty, handsome... *If only* you thought briefly... *Betty's next* That thought brings you out of sleep, shivering and tense. You sit straight up, and notice that you've transformed into Crystal in your sleep again. It's 3:00 a.m. But intruding into your dreams was the sudden, certain conviction that your sinister tormenters weren't finished, hadn't even begun, in fact... <><><><><> -- She wakes with a start, the dream so real, its information so certain... But instead of the rush of adrenaline, familiar panic, there's a cold sense of darkness, a glow leaking from her to dimly illuminate her room. Crystal... once again, she had gone to sleep as Chris and woke as Crystal. How little control does she really have? And does any of that matter if they are after Betty now? She gets out of bed, opens her door and walks out into the living room. "Detective?" She doesn't try to imagine what he will see if he wakes... A slightly glowing crystal form wearing a long nightshirt, nearly to her knees, and a worried expression. "Detective... I think they're going after Betty now. Can you call someone, warn them?" <><><><><> [GM] "Huh? Wha-?" Detective Wasselhoff rolls to his feet alertly for someone just stirred out of sleep. His slacks and sports jacket are folded neatly on the end-table, and he's wearing jogging shorts and a black T-shirt. He rubs his eyes, looks at you, then does a double-take as he realizes that you've become Crystal. "Now...you mean *right* now?" he asks. He looks around, grabs the cushion he was using as a pillow and seems reassured to find his pistol still lying there (between your sofa cushions, you think- great, but at least you're pretty sure it's not the sort of thing he'd forget about and leave there...) "Why do you think something's happening now?" he asks. "Are you turning into a psychic or something as well?" Despite his skeptical tone, he does reach for the telephone, and dial Betty's apartment. "LaClaar...yeah, it's me, Wasselhoff. Umm, just wanted to check on things- yeah, sorry. No, Ms. Tallin was just nervous...naw, never mind." He covers the receiver and says "Everything's fine over there." He begins saying good-bye to the officer on the other end. <><><><><> -- "I don't know... I couldn't guess what the limits to what I can do are, though I hadn't had any hints thing psychic before. But this felt so... I don't know, immediate, maybe. And when I woke, I was like this, so I thought maybe..." But things seem to be going well, no sign of the danger she was afraid of... "Ask him to be careful, please. I just have this feeling that whatever is going to happen will happen soon." She feels so ridiculous saying that, and Wasselhoff's reaction made it clear he didn't think much of her behavior himself. Was she really seeing some sort of psychic warning or was it just a dream? She'd been through enough, she should be expecting bad dreams, at least. But it was so intense... <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff nods, then says over the phone "Look...it could be nothing, but...let's just say I have a hunch. Be extra paranoid. You hear anything, see anything, even remotely questionable, be on guard." After he hangs up, he looks at you. "OK, if you can turn into a living crystal statue, I guess psychic premonitions aren't any more ridiculous than that, right? But do you really think that's what's happening, or did you just have a bad dream?" <><><><><> "How am I supposed to know the difference? I mean, I've never had anything like *any* of this happen. It was like a dream, but it was very real. Very intense. And I couldn't help but be certain Betty was in danger. Immediate danger. I don't know, maybe I am just afraid of a dream. But it can't hurt to make sure..." She looks down now, not wanting to meet his eyes with her weak explanation. "I don't think I want to go back to sleep right now. Could... could we talk for a while, just to pass some time?" <><><><><> [GM] "Well...I'll check on them again at dawn, all right?" Wasselhoff says. He nods when you ask to talk, though you can see he's still a little put off by your crystalline body. <><><><><> -- "Good" Crystal smiles, the expression actually brightening the room as the glow from her exposed limbs and face strengthens with her mood. Somehow, she manages to overlook the discomfort in the detective's expression. Perhaps she's used to men trying to hide discomfort with her presence in close but simply friendly situations... "You were suggesting I try to figure out I can do as Crystal. How hard my skin is, all that... Care to see for yourself?" She holds her hand toward him, palm up, curious for a second to see how the natural lines and folds translate into the countless facets of her crystalline body... <><><><><> [GM] No lines or folds are evident, just glassy, reflective "skin", with a multitude of facets so fine, they're like the ridges in a fingerprint, invisible until you inspect them closely. Wasselhoff holds his own hand up and presses his palm against yours. "How...I guess you don't know. How flesh like diamond can...bend, or flex. It defies science, right? All you...superhumans, do." He looks at you, and says "What does it feel like? I mean, do you breathe, do you eat...what happens if you stayed like that, forever? Could you live like that?" He seems almost entranced by you, which isn't something unfamiliar to you, but it's not lust that has him captivated right now. <><><><><> -- "I'm... not sure. I mean, I just move like I always did. Everything works, just like I'm used to. Except everything feels... I don't know, muffled, maybe. And I don't feel any pain, even during what happened in New York. That scares me, because I really can't tell how hurt I am." Crystal pauses, consciously trying to breath, finding it difficult to have to think about anything like that. "I tried drinking while I was like this, and I couldn't taste anything. It didn't feel... right. I don't want to try eating, at least not right now. And breathing... I don't fog mirrors, but I can talk, so I don't know what that means." She shrugs, smiling. "And I can't stay like this. I turn back when I fall asleep, at least I always have. And I guess sometimes I change when I'm asleep, like I did this time. But I've never changed without wanting to when I was awake, which I guess is something positive." <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff nods. "You look....like a piece of art, almost. Some kind of crystal statue." "You seemed pretty strong before, and you're probably a lot tougher than when you're...normal. What about your light powers?" "It's a little late to go practice target shooting right now, but you'd definitely be better off learning how much power you can store, and how to discharge it. I mean, there has to be a limit to your output, right?" <><><><><> -- "Thank you, Detective. I don't mind being 'statuesque' in that sense, and I never turn down a complement." She nods when he comments about her strength. "I've got some weights, I tried them when I first... changed. I could lift more, but it was... tiring. Like using my light, light it drained some kind of charge. It's... weird. Not like being tired, exactly..." She smiles again and her glow brightens, apparently unconsciously. "I could try to drain it out now, without actually burning anything. But you might want to shade your eyes because I don't know how bright I can get..." Once he reacts, she concentrates on the ambiant glow her body lets out, on making it brighter and brighter, pushing to fill the room with the light she feels inside her... <><><><><> [GM] You begin glowing brightly, as if illuminated with an invisible interior light source that makes all your reflective surfaces dazzling and brilliant. Then you summon a concentrated spark of energy and release it. The room explodes in brilliance. Within a few feet of you, there are only solid white shapes, all color and texture in the sofa, the carpet, and Wasselhoff being washed away in the blinding glare. At the edges of the room, the intensity fades somewhat, but still all four walls and the floor and ceiling are lit up with a strobe-like flash. As that focused burst fades, you continue to project bright light, not at the overwhelming intensity of the initial burst, but bright enough that even after Wasselhoff takes his hands from in front of his face, he has to squint if he looks directly at you. You don't feel at all drained; in fact, it felt good releasing a little bit of energy. <><><><><> -- "Wow..." The light is so wonderfully warm and comforting, the feeling of letting it flow out of her so welcome she doesn't want to even think about stopping. Crystal walks toward the nearest mirror (her apartment has more than its share of them), looking at herself. "I don't know if this is going to prove anything, Detective. I feel like I could keep this up all night. I think I'd even like to. God, it feels so *good*!" <><><><><> [GM] "Umm, well if you keep it up much longer, I'm going to have to grab a pair of sunglasses," Wasselhoff says. "OK, so you can shed light with no problem. I'll bet you'll run down eventually but...that laser thing you did in New York, that HAS to use up a lot more power than just shining. So the question is; where does the power come from?" <><><><><> -- "Sorry... I'll cut it down some." Crystal concentrates on reducing the flow of light, dimming herself down to about half the output. "I think I actually store light. I mean, when I stand in the sun or a spotlight like in New York, I can feel it flowing into me. It's slow, so maybe that spotlight didn't help much, but it's as real as anything. It felt strange, like I was feeding on sunlight or something. And when I used almost all the energy up, I was ready to drop. I've never been so tired. Not like now. Now, I think I could do this forever. The blasts... they take a lot out of me." She pauses for a second, then considers an idea. "Look, maybe I can focus this light from just part of me. Let me try that." Thinking hard, she tries to imagine the glow currently seeping from her entire form to focus just on her right forearm and hand, dimming the rest of her and, she realizes as she acts, maybe leaving a few less light- defined curves outlined against her modest but perhaps not quite opaque enough for these purposes nightshirt. <><><><><> [GM] The effect works magnificently; your arm glows brightly, while the rest of your body, while still glowing faintly, seems dim in comparison. It also seems that the light coming from your arm is more white, compared to the pinkish glow that normally emanates from you. Wasselhoff yawns, which reminds you that he's been up a long time, watching over you, and you're denying him sleep that he probably needs more than you. You don't feel tired, in your crystalline body, but he's supposed to wake up at dawn to check on Betty. About whom you still have an odd, though not as dire as before, sense of foreboding. <><><><><> -- "Look, I'm keeping you up. We should both go back to bed." Separately? Chris is almost surprised at the flash of thought. She hadn't even considered the detective as anything but a protector before now, but as he acted more and more like a friend, like the only ear she had to talk to, the forced intimacy of his presence was... No. That wouldn't be a good thing. It would... make things much to complicated. Her light fades as she wills herself back to her flesh and blood form. "Good night, Detective. We can talk more in the morning." <><><><><> [GM] Wasselhoff nods. His look is appraising, a little self-conscious, but you went over that before; you can't help the way you look, and he can't help reacting to it. You rarely take offense now when a man's gaze traces your curves, or lingers on your chest a little longer than is polite, and Detective Wasselhoff, for someone who's obviously attracted to you, and comes from the macho world of the LAPD, has better self-control than most. He double-checks to make sure his wallet, badge, and pistol are all secured where he can reach them from where he's sleeping on the couch, then turns back to you as he sits down on the cushions and gets ready to pull a blanket back over himself. "G'night, Ms. Tal- uh, Chris. Say, if I'm supposed to call you Chris, how about calling me David instead of 'Detective'?" He smiles a little and adds "But not around other cops, OK? They might get the wrong idea." <><><><><> -- "David it is. But not around other officers. No 'wrong ideas.'" But the other officers would be thinking that already. Could they imagine one of their own sleeping in the apartment with someone like her and *not*... But everything was so much simpler as long as they don't do anything. So much simpler, but was is really possible? "Good night, David." <><><><><> [GM] You sleep restlessly until morning, when you wake, feeling still a bit fatigued. More than a bit, actually, but when you emerge from your room, Detective Wasselhoff- err, David- looks more tired. He smiles at you cheerfully enough, but there's a warning glimmer in his eyes. He's getting off the phone, which you didn't hear ringing, as you were in the shower. "Your friend Betty is all right," he says immediately, before you can become alarmed, "but someone took some shots at her apartment last night. In fact, someone took some very *precise* shots at her apartment, and at the detective staying with her. Perfectly placed, over his head as he went outside to get something from his car, then a couple shots through the kitchen window. Shot a glass of orange juice right out of her hand. Blew out the tires on the undercover car parked out front, just for good measure." "Oh, and since being shot at made my buddy, Detective Loren, a little more paranoid, he checked his car afterwards, and found a very neat little bomb hooked up to the ignition. It's being taken apart and studied at the crime lab right now, naturally." He looks grim. "They were sending a message; 'We could have got you'. This isn't some deranged lunatic with a cache of military surplus weapons; this is someone very good, I'd even say professional. Still a deranged lunatic, I wouldn't doubt it.... but someone like that doesn't pull crap like this out of sheer spite. Unless you've got a bitter ex-boyfried who was a Special Forces op or something?" He looks sympathetic and concerned, as he did before, but the look in his eyes says something else as well; *Is there something you're not telling me?* <><><><><> -- "Detec... David I..." No, don't answer quickly, she tells herself. She knows a quick answer would sound too convenient, and a slow one too hard-thought. It was so easy to sound like you were lying when you really just wanted... "David, I've already told you about the only relationship skeleton in my closet. If I knew anything that could help. I'd tell you. These are my *friends* dying. Being shot at and bombed. And being able to turn into some kind of moving mannequin doesn't give me any way to protect them, all I can do is depend on you to keep everyone safe until whoever this is makes a mistake or decides I'm not what he thinks I am." Much too serious talk for the early morning, and more to come. Chris closes her eyes to collect her thoughts, then opens them and reaches for the phone. "Billi said to call first thing in the morning. Let's find out what she wanted, all right?" <><><><><> [GM] David sighs. "Sorry...I know, a vengeful Rambo ex coming after you makes for a bad made-for-TV movie, but not much of a rational explanation for all this craziness. Frankly, the thought crossed my mind that maybe it was something *else* in your background. I mean, the obvious assumption is that this has to do with your becoming a superhuman...that's what the threats said. But maybe it's possible that that's just a distraction, and they're really after you for some other reason. Not likely, I know, but worth considering." When you get through to Billi, she's abrupt and businesslike. "Have you seen the news, Chris? If not, turn it on, or go get your morning paper, and then call me back." <><><><><> -- "David, I really don't know anyone else it could be. I don't know why anyone should hate people who somehow showed these powers, but I guess I'm just an easy, public target. Maybe I never should have gone on television, maybe I should have hidden away and none of this would have happened, but I don't think it would have worked. I couldn't have hidden forever and I really do think I can do some good, help explain to everyone that we're still people no matter what we can do. That's the only way to stop this from happening again and again." Chris doesn't really allow enough time after trying to explain this to David to be ready for Billi's abrupt manner. She stands with the phone dead in her hand for a moment, then hangs it up sharply. "Something's happened. Billi said to turn on the news. I don't know why she won't just tell me, but she's the most stubborn person I know so I didn't want to try to argue." She turns the television on and flips through the stations trying to find local news or, if that isn't quickly successful, just going to CNN. <><><><><> [GM] [see news item] Two major items top the news. The first is the apparent assassination of Paladin...the world's first atomic assassination. [See news item] The second is the destruction of a Redmond office building in Washington, and Terrarizer's threat to destroy Seattle. [If you're lurking the Seattle thread, Gordon is a few hours ahead of you; his fight is occurring later this same day.] "Holy s***," is all Wasselhoff says. <><><><><> -- Chris is silent as she watches, still except for a cold shiver that passes through her. Silent as the news moves on to another story, another horror. With things like this going on, could she even get anyone's attention to try to calm the fires? If whoever was after her actually killed her, would it be any more than a footnote, something on page three behind dozens of other monstrous acts? And how could she do *anything* with things like this going on, with people who can make and use atomic weapons targeting anyone who gets too public, too popular? She presses the redial button, to get Billi back on the phone. "Billi, if this is going on... Can we even *think* about what we were planning? I mean, what can we do to overcome the hate and fear things like this have to be creating?" <><><><><> [GM] "That depends on you," Billi answers cooly. "I received a note last night...delivered to my home. Never mind what it said; it was the same people who killed Terry. Yes, I've already reported it to the police, and taken appropriate precautions." "I don't like being threatened. I don't like being intimidated. But I'm not going to commit to working with you unless I know *you're* not going to back down. And keep in mind, Chris, YOU may be doing this for some higher purpose. *I'm* doing it for the money." Which is about as bluntly as Billi has ever stated her motivations. Except that this one time, you don't think she's being entirely truthful. <><><><><> -- Chris smiles. Despite herself, despite the deathly serious nature of what Billi just said. She smiles because she knows Billi is now actually caring about something other than money. Because now it's personal for Billi, and that means something will get done if anything can possible be done. "Billi, if I give up this keeps happening anyway. I can't live like this forever and I don't want to. If I can stop it my *any* means, I will. And if stopping this means you and I have to work hard, pull every string we can find and, yes, make a good bit of money in the process, then we'll have to do it. There isn't much choice, is there?" The next question, though, will be much harder to ask. She wanted to give her instructions, announce what she had decided to do. That was the only instinct she had, and even though her own plans were half- formed and incomplete, it was harder than anything she'd done in recent memory to simply continue as she knew she had to. "So... what's our next step?" <><><><><> [GM] "We continue to do what we were going to do, but sooner. We should schedule a press conference as soon as possible, and I think I have you lined up for an appearance on 'LA in the Morning'. That's strictly local, but I'm betting if your press conference makes a sufficient impact, we can get you on 'Nightline'. After that nuclear explosion in Germany, attacks on metahumans are a hot topic. In the meantime, I still think appearing with some other 'heroic' types would be a good idea- if we can find any. Is there any way you can find those people who helped you in New York?" "I'll also need you to call that lawyer you engaged in New York and let him know that I'm your agent now, so we can coordinate contracts and licenses and the like." "You also heard about that lunatic in Seattle, right? Supposedly he's going to destroy the city if he doesn't get paid a billion dollars. I think the fool has been watching too many cartoons, but he's certainly dangerous. Now, I'm not suggesting you go fight this 'Terrarizer', but I see an opportunity for you to make an appearance and do something positive, depending on how it plays out. If he really *does* devestate the city, you can help with the cleanup, and provide a contrast, a good metahuman trying to undo the damage of an evil one. If he gets stopped somehow, you can appear and speak out against metahumans abusing their powers. And I'll look into tying it into some environmental thing, there's always some cause or another up there, logging or pollution in Puget Sound or something." The old briskness is back, and you can't help resenting her callous attitude a little; an entire city threatened, and she sees it as a PR opportunity. No doubt she regards Paladin's atomic assassination as an inconvenient glitch in her plans to match the two of you up. But then, her ability to ruthlessly capitalize on any opportunity is one of the reasons she's so good. <><><><><> -- "Okay, good. But we need to do something with the press conference to make sure New York doesn't happen again. Can we keep the location secret or hold it someplace we can secure or something? "I'll call New York, it shouldn't be hard to take care of things. "And I think Seattle might be a good idea. We should keep an eye on how things develop there, then make the final decision after the press conference. If things quiet down quickly, I'd rather stay here. I'm not sure the police would look too kindly on travel plans right not anyway." She does her best to not let Billi's manner get to her, but it already is. Working with her will be harder than Chris had thought, but it had to be done. Right now, Billi was her best hope and regardless of what she said, regardless of how petty she tried to make everything, Chris needed her help. <><><><><> [GM] "I'm not sure what place can be 'secured' against a woman who can smash through concrete," says Billi, "but short notice would probably be a good idea. We'll also make sure to have tight security. We may not be able to do much about rampaging super-powered lunatics, but we should be able to keep out gun-toting lunatics of a more normal variety." "You keep yourself safe and healthy, Chris, I'll be in touch with you later today. Ta ta!" <><><><><> -- "I will. Be sure of that. I'll be here when you call." Chris hangs up the phone, breathing a sigh of relief that it was over for now. "She wants to do a press conference, then a TV spot tomorrow, maybe a trip to Seattle if that situation looks like one worth stepping into. I hope that doesn't happen, though." She talks to the LAPD detective without really looking at him, more just to say it all than for any other reason. "I think she's taking this very seriously, maybe even personally. She doesn't like being threatened. But she's still in this for the money and I'm worried about what directions she's already starting to head things toward..." She pauses for a second, then lifts the phone again. "I have to call New York, make some arrangements." She dials carefully, the number having become familiar already when it was unknown just a week before. <><><><><> [GM] You get hold of Berlowitz quickly. He confirms that all the licensing and other legal matters are proceeding quickly, and you make arrangements for him to coordinate with Billi Cameron. "Is everything all right in California?" he asks. He probably doesn't even know about Terry yet. <><><><><> -- Chris is silent for a second, not sure how to answer. Something in her wants to be furious, but she knows that isn't right. Her lawyer couldn't know, because they'd kept everything quiet so far... "Not well. There's someone, maybe a group of people, who've decided to target me for something. They... they killed my photographer. My friend. They've shot at others, sent threats to Billi... The police are working on it, we're being careful. I don't know, but sometimes I think it was easier when I knew who was after me, even though I knew she couldn't be stopped by anything I did. Now, it's all drawn-out and... Well, I'm going to make it through, count on that. Keep things going, because it's going to be important that we can move quickly soon." <><><><><> [GM] "My God," is all Berlowitz says. He listens to your instructions, and agrees to get in touch with Billi. As you hang up, it occurs to you that he could easily become a target too. You wonder if it's occurred to him yet. <><><><><> -- Chris sets down the phone, then stretches, just awake and already stretched thin by the news. "All right, David... we've got some time. Until Billi calls, at least. Would you like to try a few more experiments on what I can and can't do as Crystal?" <><><><><> [GM] He nods. "You mentioned you seemed to have unusual strength, but not the night you first became...Crystal. Do you think it might depend on how much, I dunno, energy you have at the moment?" <><><><><> -- "It might. We'll only know if we check. Care to join me in the gym?" Chris begs a moment's privacy to change into something more suitable to the task at hand, spends a couple moments stretching to warm up, then turns her attention to her weights. "I guess we'll start with the regular me, as a base. I'm in pretty good shape already... Professional hazard, I guess. But I'm nothing spectacular." She demonstrates, choosing a weight a little heavy for herself, and she knows it. Within moments, the strain is showing. "whew... Now I guess we give Crystal a chance. I don't know how 'powered up' I am right now... I guess we'll see. Ready?" If he agrees, she shifts form and tries to repeat the experiment... <><><><><> [GM] >>>But I'm nothing spectacular."<<< "Oh, I wouldn't say that," Wasselhoff murmurs. He watches while you do a short set as Christine, then transform into Crystal. The same weight at first feels just as heavy...until you lock your joints and set your muscles. Or whatever you have that passes for joints and muscles. Then you begin pushing the weight up and down with ease. It occurs to you that the phenomenon is something like a hydraulic press. It takes a moment to kick in, and can't be applied in a hurry, but once you can bring your full force to bear, your strength definitely exceeds your normal levels. <><><><><> -- Chris smiles at David's complement. She liked those whenever she got them. "I was talking about strength, not anything else. But thank you." And the experiment continues, shifts to testing Crystal's strength... "It's strange... At first, I didn't feel any stronger at all, but now... It's like the weights had gotten lighter. I guess I have to warm up to it... Try increasing the weights, we'll see how much of a difference it makes. Add... Oh, try thirty pounds more. I shouldn't be able to budge that." <><><><><> [GM] Once you apply yourself, you can lift the extra weight with ease. In fact, David slowly increases the amount until you're at the 500 pound maximum that the machine can provide. At this level, it takes significant effort, but not overwhelming. You feel that you could probably lift even more if you really pushed yourself. "Whew!" David says. "That's not quite superhuman, but it's a helluva lot stronger than most people can get without steroids!" <><><><><> -- She lets the weights drop loudly, then swings off the bench and looks at the setting for herself. "It's amazing. I mean, I could feel it, it was heavy but... But I could probably lift more if I had to. It wasn't any harder than my normal workout. It's... I couldn't have imagined anything like this." She looks at her wrists then, the shimmering facets of her new self. She looks closely, trying to spot the remaining signs of her injuries. "I'm healing. The first night, in New York, Lucy Golden almost crushed my wrists. They were all lined with fractures and stress marks. Now... Look, you can hardly see it. It's all..." She looks at herself in the mirror again. Crystal. Like her, but so different. No hair, nothing like it, but that's the slightest change. Her shape was still the same, pretty much, but she looked so different. Everything looked different, somehow. It was so... "David... turn off the lights. I want to try something." <><><><><> [GM] "Umm, OK." He does so. <><><><><> -- She looks at herself in the dark mirror first, wondering how her reflection will look when she sees it with whatever light it is Crystal's eyes register, then she begins to let her light bleed out, watching her image now, stopping before the room is lit even as brightly as the electric lights had kept it. "I don't know exactly what I'm seeing, but I can see in the dark. Better than I should be able to, at least. And I wanted to see what this looked like last night, now I'm going to." She concentrates, moving the glow of light to focus in her arm, watching her reflection as she shifts the light up her arm, across her shoulders and down her left arm, to rest in her hand. "I need to practice that. I hope it comes across well on video." She turns to the detective then. "Any other ideas? I don't think we can test the blasts here, especially because they might reflect from the mirrors and go wild. Do you have any other ideas what I should try?" <><><><><> [GM] The special effects of your internal lighting are eerie and beautiful. You're sure you can get better with practice. David watches, entranced, while you make light pulse up and down your body, or glow from beneath your crystalline skin. "I'm not sure what else you can try in here," he says. "You might want to find a...a lab, somewhere, that could do tests like measure exactly how much energy you absorb, what you can output, that kind of thing. And maybe measure how hard your body is, so you can get an idea of how invulnerable you are without testing it the hard way." Yeah, you're sure whatever place those government agents wanted to take you to could do all that. You're reminded again of how useful some contacts in the scientific community would be right now. Unfortunately, your friends are almost exclusively in media....except for a couple of political contacts, but you'd rather not think about them right now. Especially *him*. A university laboratory might be your best bet, if you knew someplace that does a lot of work with lasers and light. And gemology. "You know," David suggests, "I don't know how you feel about leaving the city right now, but there's an awful lot of desert not far away. Wide open space with no one around, all the sunlight you can absorb, and plenty of rocks and sand dunes for you to test your power on." <><><><><> -- "That's a great idea. Once Billi gets back in touch and we've got a schedule in hand, we'll have to work that in. All the light and nothing I can really damage... Sounds perfect. "But the labs... I don't know anyone who does anything like that. My friends make movies and music and photo layouts, not scientific theories. But maybe one of the universities would cooperate. We'd have to work it out carefully, because we don't want anyone else on these nuts' hit list, and Billi might have problems with it... But I think we could try calling around, see who would be willing to help. I mean, as far as I remember from school, what I'm doing is impossible, but there has to be some explanation somewhere and someone who knows something about crystals or light couldn't hurt in trying to figure out what that is." Chris realizes then that she's been Crystal a fair amount of time and done a lot of lifting. She should be tired, but Crystal doesn't feel anything. She would, when she changed back, probably catch up. "ummm... I think I should change back to me, wash up and dress for when Billi calls. Could you make some tea?" ======================================================= ============ [The following is a transcript of a live conference, which was used to play the next segment of this thread] ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - To begin with... Billi calls you at about 1 pm ;;[2] The Ghoul - oh, my... Chris is probably climbing the walls by then ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - And informs you that she has you scheduled for a press conference. Only local stations will be covering it live, but she says that if you present an impressive enough image, and make yourself sound important enough... it will probably be picked up by the networks for the evening news ;;[2] The Ghoul - "and what do you want me to focus on? Terry? The threats?" ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "I've been doing a little more research" (naturally), "and spotted some interesting trends..." "There are an increasing number of editorials, politicians, and the like making some...troubling statements about superhumans." "It looks like you're shaping up to be the new Red Menace, at least in some circles." "Particularly overseas, but there are some signs of it here." ;;[2] Chris - "So we want to try to head this off before it builds any further?" ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "Yes, going on the counterattack early might be a good strategy, don't you think?" ;;[2] Chris - "It can't hurt. Things have already gone two far as it is." ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "It will be hard for all those angry white males to portray a gorgeous young model who's scared for her life as a threat to Western Civilization, don't you think?" ;;[2] Chris - "I hope so... I certainly hope so..." ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "So you need to put out a convincing mixture of tough self-assurance, and vulnerability" ;;[2] Chris - (she doesn't sound too confident, but she's building toward it) ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "A positive role model for women and for superhumans, but not TOO threatening" ;;[2] Chris - "I'll do the best I can." ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "Terry should play a part, too. Don't leave that out. It will be painful, but pointing out that an innocent man was murdered will win more sympathy for you." ;;[2] Chris - "All right... I feel bad using Terry's death like this, though." "Have the police been able to save any of his last pictures?" ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "I will be circulating some targeted publicity in those media circles sympathetic to the gay community as well. I think it would be....unwise, to make specific mention of Terry's being gay at this press conference-" [you can see the old scheming, manipulative Billi at work again...] ;;[2] Chris - Chris shakes her head slightly. "You're probably right." ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "but making sure it's known, in a subtle manner, will get you more support from liberals, who can identify with yet another oppressed minority group." ;;[2] Chris - "All right. I'll keep that in mind, Billi." ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "I think you should show up as Chris, but they should see you as Crystal at some point" ;;[2] Chris - "That sounds best. I'm not going to try anything fancy like the leotard this time. That was just too comic-book. Something more somber sounds right to me, doesn't it to you?" ;;[5] Amadan na Briona - "Yes. Somber, a little frightened, and a little angry." ;;[2] Chris - "All right. Let's make it happen." (Amadan na Briona) So, what is Chris doing to prepare? (Chris) Well, she's dressing in a rather severe, dark blue, buisiness-like outfit, and making sure here makeup is minimal, quiet and unglamorous. She also spends long minutes looking at pictures Terry took of her, pictures of them together... She selects one to take with her, to see if Billi can get copies made and distributed to the press. (Amadan na Briona) All right. The press conference is scheduled for 5 pm, barely giving the news stations enough time to decide if they want to air it during the 5 or 6 o'clock news hours, or wait until 11 Wasselhoff will go with you, of course. It will be held at Billi's studio. (Chris) [okay... unless Billi insists, Chris will actually start almost right on the hour.] (Amadan na Briona) You've showered, done makeup and all that, and are putting on your dress, when the phone rings (It's now about 2:00) (Chris) "Hello?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Ummm, Hi. Christine? Ah don't know if you remember me... It's Tyler Sterritt. Ummm...press conference? Lucretia?" (Chris) "Of course... You saved my life. That's not easy to forget." "Why are you calling? Are you in LA now?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Oh. Yeah, okay. Sorta the situation. Listen...ah have stumbled onto a little problem that sorta relates to you, and ah don't quite know how to handle it. Do you...ummm, could you spare me a little time to talk? In person? It's...important." (Chris) "What problem? Does it have something to do with..." (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler sounded a little subdues. "Ah sorta don't think ah should discuss it over the phone. Can ah see you? AH'm in LA..." (Chris) "Of course. We can meet. I've got a bit of time. Can you come here?" (Tyler Sterritt) [subdued. Damned thumbs.] "Sure! Only...ah'm not so sure where *here* is. Where do y'all live?" (Chris) "You won't have a problem finding it. Just get a taxi." (Tyler Sterritt) "Gotcha. On my way. Ummm...Christine...thanks." She rang off. (Chris) (Chris) "See you soon." [oh, that's right...] (Tyler Sterritt) [opening the door, Chris smacks him in the eye with the doorknob] (Amadan na Briona) He says through the door- "The one who summoned that big gun?" (Chris) "That's her. She's in LA, apparently looking for me. I think she was planning to talk to the government people, so maybe they sent her with something about what's going on." "I'll be dressed soon... She'll be getting here in a few minutes." "Well, I guess... I'm not sure where she was calling from." (Amadan na Briona) "Umm, OK." (Tyler Sterritt) [one cab ride later...] (Chris) "I know, I should have asked you first. But Tyler saved my life once, I don't think we need to worry about her." (Amadan na Briona) "If she's another superhuman, I doubt I could do much to protect you from her anyways." He doesn't seem to consider her a threat, though. (Chris) "Well, she gets those things from somewhere. I don't know how. I don't think either of us could explain what was happening." (Amadan na Briona) "Did she say she was working for the government now?" (Chris) "No, she didn't. I hope she isn't, actually. I already told you I didn't much like the people I met in New York." "Tyler... Well, she seemed to have the sense to be careful around them." (Amadan na Briona) It takes about 40 minutes before Tyler is deposited outside Crystal's condo (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler arrived at the door looking a little less stringently Western than usual: jeans, lace-up ropers, a cheap sleeveless cotton shell that exposed a few inches of her flat belly when she moved. Her hair was a bulky and unrestrained as always. (Amadan na Briona) It turns out you were most of the way across L.A. from the upscale section where Crystal lives (Chris) "Tyler! It's good to see you. Have you been all right?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Yeah." She grinned lopsidedly. "Mostly." Can ah come in?" (Chris) "Of course. Come on. Have a seat." (Tyler Sterritt) She saunterred in and sat down, looking distinctly uncomfortable. (Amadan na Briona) Chris's Detective "bodyguard" is a tall, handsome man who eyes Tyler curiously (Tyler Sterritt) "Thanks. How's everything goin' for y'all?" (Chris) "Tyler, this is Detective Wasselhoff. He's with the LAPD." (Tyler Sterritt) She hopped up and extended her hand companionably. "Hey. How're y'all." (Amadan na Briona) and just a little bit suspiciously...or maybe he's trying to cover up the natural tendency to look at her bare midriff (Chris) "I've been... I've been fine, but there's been some threats." "And... You met Terry in New York, didn't you? My photographer?" [I'm not sure if they did meet, but I seem to recall they should have.] (Tyler Sterritt) "Well, that's sorta in line with what ah wanted to talk to y'all about." (Amadan na Briona) Detective Wasselhoff shakes Tyler's hand. "Nice to meet you. I saw tha fight in New York. Really....unpleasant. You look like you came through OK, though." (Tyler Sterritt) But..." she glanced at the officer, again looking uncomfortable. "Ah think maybe ah should stick to you alone, at first." (Amadan na Briona) [I don't think they did meet, actually] (Tyler Sterritt) She acknowledged the officer's comments with a small smile. "Yeah, kinda hairy there, a bit." "All ah member is y'all carted off to the hospital. Kinda bad." (Chris) "No, wait, you were gone before he got into town. It's all so confused." "He's dead, Tyler. Someone bombed his house, as a warning to me. And they've attacked another friend of mine. I'm... Well, I'm not sure what I can do." (Tyler Sterritt) SHe looked a little pale, at the news about Tery, even not knowing him. Too close. (Chris) "If you know something, *anything*, tell me. Please." (Amadan na Briona) Wasselhoff studies Tyler carefully. (Chris) "Detective... I think she'd rather talk to me alone. Can you...?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Ah will, but..." she eyed the cop again. "...sorry. Ah don't trust anybody, much, these days. Can we sorta go...?" She indicated a back room with a jerk of her head. She wasn't carrying any purse, or other baggage. A few dollars stuck out of one piocket, change from the cab fare. (Amadan na Briona) [You're in the living room now- I figure it would be more convenient for them to go into Chris's bedroom than ask Wasselhoff to go outside ] (Chris) "Tyler, he's with the police. He's been with me for days. But if you'd rather..." (Tyler Sterritt) "Y'all don't know..." she said, shaking her head mulishly. "It's related to what weird stuff ah do, and somethin' ah discovered. " "here...ah guess ah got to show y'all..." She continued to talk, albeit reluctantly. "y'all remember that Mitchell kid, from the press conference? The govern ment guys were askin' me all sorts of questions about him..." (Chris) "I told you to be careful around them. They're up to something." (Tyler Sterritt) She gestured. "So ah found out. Now, don't y'all jump; this is kinda different..." (Tyler Sterritt) She gestured. A bluish whorl of energy formed in the air behind her, swirling, widening... (Chris) (Tyler Sterritt) The whorl widens, opening into a window of sorts, exposing an ordinarylooking hotel room. (Amadan na Briona) no- stop you can't see through the portal to the other side, normally (Tyler Sterritt) OOPS. (Chris) "Tyler... what are you doing?" (Tyler Sterritt) "It's new, for me," Tyler explained. Ah just don't pull things out of the air, ah can go places, too." (Chris) "'places'?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Watch," she said. "Trust me." She stepped through the energy disjointment, to vanish momentarily. In a few seconds, she stepped *back* through, carrying her old (Chris) "Tyler?" (Tyler Sterritt) western-style purse. "See? I just went to my hotyel room and back." (Amadan na Briona) She steps back as the portal is starting to recede...it takes a bit of energy to hold it open like that (Chris) "Your hotel room? Where are you staying?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Ah can go anywhere ah been, or remember, or even if it's described to me, sort of." "Holiday Inn," she said. (Chris) "That's... Incredible. You just think about it and step through?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Here's the thing the government was interested in," she said, fishing in her purse. "Ah found it...dragged it in, sort of..." She produced a small black box. (Chris) "What is it?" (Tyler Sterritt) "Sorry," she said. "Cain't help it." A pair of needles flashed from it, stabbing Christine in the chest. Electricity surged through her. (Tyler Sterritt) Even as she fired the TASER, Tyler removed another, odder object from her purse... (Chris) (Amadan na Briona) The wires flash out and hit Christine in the chest and shoulder, immediately sending a jolt through her body She jerks, trying to concentrate... but the current keeps her paralyzed, and somehow, her body won't obey her command to transform (Tyler Sterritt) Despite a hard expression, Tyler couldn't suppress the glistening in her eyes. It didn't stop her from popping Christine with another discharge from the TASER. The odd object looked something like a gun from a Flash Gordon movie. Odd, non-metallic, bulky. (Amadan na Briona) Tyler realizes, however, that a taser isn't guaranteed to knock someone completely unconscious... and the power supply won't last long. (Tyler Sterritt) [two shots, right? either way...] (Amadan na Briona) The second shot is more painful than the first (Tyler Sterritt) "Listen, ah ain't gonna hurt you, unless you fight me. Ah just got to (Amadan na Briona) Chris spasms, slumps in her chair, lips moving.... she isn't out, but everything is black, and she can't concentrate... (Tyler Sterritt) get you somewhere else." Tyler picked her up in a fireman's carry, and headed through the gate, keeping the odd looking weapon handy. (Chris) (Amadan na Briona) Christine is barely aware of being moved, as Tyler bears her through the portal, into the Holiday Inn hotel room where Mitchell waits. (Tyler Sterritt) [that was a Sheraton. I lied.] (Mystery) Mystery steps out of the bathroom, immediately going over and touching one of Christine's bare hands, grasping it firmly and concentrating on absorbing very intensely, form and powers to the maximum. (Amadan na Briona) OK, fine, the Sheraton. (Tyler Sterritt) Meanwhile, Tyler dialed the phone. "Yeah, it's me. Ah got her. Y'all ready...?" (Amadan na Briona) Mystery touches Crystal, and feels what he thinks of as his genetic matrix changing... ...and in a matter of seconds, the teenager becomes a double of Christine. (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler began filling him in on Christine's schedule, the appearance of the room, the cop waiting back there... [am ah still going too fast...? Just assume that's her *intention*, (Amadan na Briona) Christine, however, feels even more of her energy drained away- and fights. [Making will rolls- sorry, you still haven't been able to transform] (Mystery) Mystery listens, flexing her arms and taking a step or two to get the balance. (Tyler Sterritt) assuming no other interference.] (Amadan na Briona) The beautiful model groans, to Mystery's surprise. Nancy dropped dead away when he mimicked her (Chris) (Amadan na Briona) Go ahead- dramatic license (Chris) "w..why?" (Mystery) Experimentally, Mystery tries a second draining of Christine, to try and drain her completely. (Tyler Sterritt) ROSEBUD... "Hey, that's enough!" Tyler grumbled. "Get on through the gate. Ah got (Tyler Sterritt) to close that one, so's ah can open another." (Amadan na Briona) Chris feels the last of her energy sucked out of her As Mystery is invigorated with stolen vitality (Mystery) Mystery smiles wickedly. "That works." With a nod to Tyler, Mystery pauses a moment to consider whether to take the clothes, then decides to go on through and change into something in the bedroom. (Tyler Sterritt) "Don't miss the rpess conference! And don't forget the cop, and Billi." (Mystery) "Got it!" (Tyler Sterritt) "Tell the cop ah wished myself out, that ah was too scared to tell y'all anything." (Mystery) "And messed up my clothes with the flux, too." (Tyler Sterritt) "And lose the TASER; it's on the bedroom floor." (Mystery) Once through, Mystery intends to stash the taser away in a nightstand drawer, (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler closed the gate behind Mystery, then resettled Christine on her shoulders. "Sorry," she whispered again. "Ah ain't usually like this." (Mystery) then carefully go to the wardrobe and select new clothing to dress in. (Tyler Sterritt) She concentrated again, on a hated destination. The new gate began to form..." (Chris) (Amadan na Briona) Ah, thanks. Yes, I was asking if Mitchell was nude when he transformed. (Afraid to hear the answer. ) OK, we all caught up then? (Mystery) (Possibly not nude; probably underwear.) Done. (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler began the process of opening the gate to the PUPPET MASTER's location... (Amadan na Briona) It opens. reluctantly....you've been doing a lot of long-distance gates today, and it's getting tiring. You aren't used to it yet. (Tyler Sterritt) She stepped through, bearing the somnolent form of Christine Tallin. (Amadan na Briona) "Excellent" says the Puppet Master. "Mr. Langstrom has assumed her form successfully?" (Mystery) Once Mystery is finished dressing in something reasonably attractive, she chooses a matching pair of shoes, and practices walking a moment. *The one fly in the ointment. With all my time now in female form, I haven't walked a mile in this shoe type.* (Tyler Sterritt) The combination of the exhaustion and the load made Tyler a little testy. "Yep, that's what y'all asked for, wasn't it?" She settled Christine gently as she could onto a couch or chair. "Ah just hope he don't go off the deep end again." She straightened, took a moment to be sure Christine was as well as she (Amadan na Briona) An oppressive presence in your mind crushes your small rebellious spark, and you have to fight the impulse to cower in a corner whimpering. "Temper, temper," he admonishes gently. (Tyler Sterritt) could be and comfortable, then straightened her back, stretching hard. The mental slap made her stagger; she'd gotton used to thinking of herself as an independent contractor; the reestablishment of servitude was like a punch in the gut. Sullenly, she nodded. (Amadan na Briona) "Now return to Miss Tallen's home quickly, before that impetuous fool lets his hormones do his thinking for him again." (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler closed her eyes, and tried to shake the exhaustion. "All right. Y'all want me to go along to this press conference thing?" (Amadan na Briona) "I have already reinforced in Mr. Langstrom's mind that YOU are in charge, between the two of you." "Keep him on a short leash. He can indulge in his Bachanallian fantasies once this mission is successfully completed, not before." (Tyler Sterritt) "Check. What's the plan, once we get to the conference site?" (Amadan na Briona) "Yes. And this is exactly what I want you to do, and instruct Mr. Langstrom to do-" And he proceeds to telepathically brain-dump instructions into your mind. (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler nodded, astonished at ther ease with which she could acquire information. A deep breath, and she concentrated again, trying to open the gate to Tallin's residence. (Amadan na Briona) It opens, with the strain of pushing a heavy box out of the way (Tyler Sterritt) Tyler stumbled through, breathing hard. She looked about wildly, trying to find Mitchell/Christine. She still had her purse, and the sonic weapon. (Mystery) Mystery/Christine looks up in mild surprise, eyebrows curving at Tyler's return. (Mystery) "Hi, welcome back," she greets. "Your impromptu exit disintegrated my clothes." (Tyler Sterritt) "Hey," she said. "Big Dog sent me back. Forget the cover story, ah'm going with you to the press conference." (Mystery) She winks, then composes her expression again. (Tyler Sterritt) She stuffed the weird pistol into her purse. "Where's the TASER?" (Mystery) She nods. "Good, it will be nice to have you along." She gestures to the nightstand. "There." (Mystery) Mystery/Christine angles her head toward the door, holding up a finger in a wary gesture, and she adds a shrug. "Never know." [GM] [At the Puppet Master's Lair] Your mind climbs slowly out of a dark abyss, but numbness is still the only sensation you can perceive for a long time. You have some odd, instinctive feeling that things are going on around you (inside you? why do you feel horribly NOT alone in this insensate limbo?) but your body, if you still even have one, is paralyzed and gives you no sensory feedback. You can see and hear nothing, though there is the distant rumble of something moving, or making noise. But maybe that's your imagination. Then abruptly, you're in a well-lighted room. It seems to be a nicely furnished living room, in a spacious penthouse apartment. Through the window you can see a large city below; you have no idea what city, though no buildings are immediately familiar, and for that reason, and some other, subliminal cues, you're pretty sure you're no longer in Los Angeles, and you also rule out the other major cities with which you're familiar; this is not New York or San Francisco, and definitely not Paris or Rio or London. You're seated on a dark, new-looking couch, wearing your "Crystal" costume; the spandex one you wore to the first press conference, the one disrupted by Lucretia. Except that costume was pretty thoroughly trashed in that encounter. No, it's not quite the same one, now that you inspect more closely (for a moment.) Similar in design, but in darker colors, the tones an almost...ominous, shade of silver and grey and dark blue. And very, *very* skintight, and much more revealing than your original design. The neckline plunges, exposing more of your bosom than you'd normally show outside a swimsuit layout, and your midruff is bare too. Slits along your thigh show plenty of leg and part of your buttocks. You look precisely like one of those ridiculous "bad girl" comic book characters [not that Crystal would really be familiar with them ], females wearing revealing and stunningly impractical superhero costumes designed to titillate a young male audience. And just shifting a little where you sit, you realize it's as impractical as it looks; the first time you try to run, or fight, you're going to pop out all over the place. "True, except you will be in your 'Crystal' form...in that state, your flesh becomes somewhat less likely to, ah, bounce around, does it not?" Despite the mild amusement in the tone, the voice sends numbing cold through you. A tall, handsome man is standing in the middle of the room, inspecting you with approval. But his appraising gaze, though it travels relentlessly over every curve of your body, contains no hint of lust. Which makes it even more unnerving. Other men would probably see you as a sex object in this costume. You have no doubt that you're *intended* to look like an object. But this man with silvery hair who seems to be in his forties or fifties, yet has a muscular physique that most men will never have even in their prime, is looking at you the way one might look at a tool. Or a weapon. You're less than a sex object to him. He has no interest in using you as a plaything. You're no more than a- "A pawn. Or, if you prefer, a puppet." He completes your thought, literally. You aren't sure what you want to do- run, fight, scream, demand answers? You do nothing but sit there docilely. "You should be glad," he says. "Your mind is so blissfully free of anything of value, I've decided you need not conduct any operations for me. You will be required to do no thinking. After all, it would be cruel for me to expect you to start now." His eyes narrow, and his tight, mean- spirited smile is more mocking than the words could ever be. "Ah, the life of an American glamour girl. You substitute emotion for reason, and convince yourself that this constitutes 'depth'. Be at ease, child. If your emotions become too painful, I shall drain them from you, just as I drained your self-will." "And don't fear...I have no intention of molesting you. The costume is, as you surmised, to ensure you project the image *I* desire you to project. But since I already possess you, body and soul, reinforcing my control of you in a carnal manner would be redundant. I must admit, you're quite a fetching lass. But it would be foolish of me to develop even a mild physical attraction to someone as expendable as yourself." Somehow, you sense that there's a meaning to his casual cruelty. Why torment you like this? Sheer spite? Without knowing how or why, you know that what he says is true; you hate this man as you've never hated anyone in your life, but you can't even imagine trying to attack him, or run from him, or disobey him. You know instinctively that whatever he tells you to do, you will do, without the slightest hesitation. So why play with a helpless victim like this? "Why indeed?" He still seems amused. You also note a slight accent in his speech. European, you think. Casually, he steps towards you, cups your chin in his hand, gently tilts your face up so you're looking at him. "Tsk tsk, such inner turmoil. I will tell you what I can do for you...if you wish, Miss Tallin. I can take away all the pain. Rest assured, you ARE my plaything, or weapon, or slave, whatever I wish. But I didn't bother to alter your core personality. This unfortunately leaves you outwardly an obedient little doll, and inwardly, a helplessly raging infant, consumed with self-loathing, as well as a desire for freedom and vengeance that will always be denied you. I *can* make it so you will not only serve me obediently, but willingly. A simple task. Then you will be content, all doubts and troubles erased from that pretty little head. Would you like me to do that....before I send you to perform tasks which, without such a comforting mental balm, I assure you will make your present mental anguish pale to insignifance?" His smile is warm, his expression grandfatherly. In his eyes, you see something colder than ice, as heartless as death. <><><><><> _- It doesn't take even a moment for her to consider it. His casual cruelty and insults only make it that much easier. If she could, she would rid herself of his touch first, knocking his hand away. But that thought dies without her arm responding, just as her lips can only manage the simplest answer to his question. "...no..." But in her mind she says more, and he can hear that as well. **Get out of my mind, you sick bastard. I don't care what you say or what you can make me do, you will *never* control me.** She looks at him, and if just the look in her eyes is still hers to control, those beautiful eyes burn with impotent rage. **Somehow I'll be free sometime. Somehow. If you don't kill me now, somehow I'll make sure you regret it.** She hadn't meant to even think that far, but how does one keep from *thinking* things they would never say? How can she keep anything secret now, ever hope to be free? <><><><><> [GM] The tall, distinguished-looking gentleman with the soul of a pit viper smiles at you, the way an indulgent grandfather might smile at a child throwing a temper tantrum. "Ah, the kitten thinks she has claws." He chuckles, and to your relief, withdraws his hand. "But I do control you, Miss Tallin. Everything you do, everything you ARE, is at my sufferance. You're quite right; you have NO hope of freedom. I could make you fall hopelessly, slavishly in love with me, or rewrite your personality in any other way I choose. But I think I will leave you as you are, since you seem to prefer it, and your sputtering mental fury is quite amusing." He picks up a remote and clicks the TV on, tosses the remote to the couch, and strolls towards the door. "I have to make a phone call. In the meantime, why don't you watch the news? You may find it entertaining." There's a particularly dark sardonic edge to the last comment. Your eyes widen involuntarily, and your breath catches in your throat as you see on the screen- yourself! * * * * * Los Angeles, 6 P.M, live local news, later broadcast nationwide. A crowd of journalists surrounds a small set with a podium at a glitzy L.A. modelling agency, where Christine Tallin, also known as "Crystal", has announced that she will speak publically concerning the recent metahuman-related violence in Los Angeles and elsewhere. Five minutes late, Crystal strides in, brushing past a woman and a pair of men in dark suits to stand behind the podium. She's in her crystalline form, and wearing a black and silver spandex suit that clings tightly to her glassy curves. It's cut much more drastically than the more conservative and brightly-colored outfit she wore to her first, disastrous press conference in New York. She stands in an arrogant, vaguely beligerent pose, hips canted, with silicon fists clenched at her sides. Comic book fans will later speculate that she's decided to emulate the current "bad girl" trend in comic books, which has made scantily-dressed, hyper-violent superheroines with nasty attitudes highly popular. The scowl on her face, so pronounced that it's obvious even on her normally impassive features, adds to the image of a woman with a bad attitude. When she speaks, her voice is cold and precise, vibrating with harmonics produced by crystalline vocal cords, beautiful yet chillingly inhuman. Much more so than when she first appeared; as if she's trying to emphasize her inhumanity. Despite the inhuman tone of her voice, the anger is evident. "Ladies and gentleman of the press, you've heard about the explosion at a Hollywood apartment, you've heard about the attempts on my life, you've all seen the footage of me fighting for my life against that superpowered bitch in New York- the one that killed dozens of people while the government stood around helplessly, and finally had to be brought down by me and some other metahumans." "I'm here to tell you that nothing has changed. While the government is helpless to do a thing about these rampaging lunatics, I get shot at and my friends get threatened and even KILLED just for being friends with a metahuman. What does our government do? It tries to threaten or cajole me into working for them, so I can become a super-agent that can ignore the law, as long as I do it the way they tell me to." "The LAPD dithered around after my friend, Terry Grey, was brutally murdered by some fanatic with a grudge against me. Maybe they didn't take it seriously because he was gay, or maybe because they don't care what happens to metahumans and their friends, but only a few hours later, another friend of mine had bullets fired into her apartment, and the police couldn't do a thing about it. The 'protection' they've offered is a joke! Someone is using military hardware to threaten me and my friends, and they say they have no clue what's going on? Look at the news; someone used a nuke to kill Paladin, and was willing to destroy an entire city to do it, just to kill one superhuman! Metahumans and their friends are being attacked all over the world, and innocent bystanders get killed. There's some kind of conspiracy going on, and I'm not about to sit here and be a target anymore!" "We metahumans can't depend on the police or other conventional authorities to protect us. The laws aren't written that can deal with us, and normal people don't even have the ability to stop us. We have to defend ourselves. I call on all metahumans who feel as I do, who have been threatened and are tired of hiding, to join me in forming a coalition for mutual protection. I will announce an 800-number soon that you can call for more information. It's time for us to do for ourselves what the rest of the world can't and won't do, which is look out for OUR interests." "To everyone else, if you don't want to help us, then I advise you to just stay out of our way!" With that, Crystal steps off the podium and shoves her way through the crowd of reporters. Several attempt to ask her questions; she pushes one microphone-wielding journalist away from her, hard enough to send him reeling into three people behind him. Then she grabs another microphone that is thrust into her face and squeezes. There's a whine of feedback, a sputtering, crackling popping noise, and the ruined microphone falls to the floor. A tall, handsome man in a sports jacket seems to be determined to follow her, pushing his way through the reporters in Crystal's wake, yelling for her to wait up. Crystal ignores him, snarls "Get OUT of my WAY!" at the remaining people in front of her, and holds up her fist. A flash of light causes screams of dismay, and momentarily blinds the cameras as well. The last footage is of Crystal disappearing down a corridor of the office building, with the journalists apparently too intimidated to follow.