DARK CRYSTAL [Christine Tallin finally meets the person responsible for all the disruption in her life recently...a villainous telepath known as the Puppet Master. On TV, she watches as a mind-controlled doppleganger continues the process of destroying her reputation and her life.] -- As she watches, as what has happened becomes clear, Chris thinks, just for a second, that she should have let him do anything he wanted. Because he's already destroyed everything she had, every hope and dream, ever friendship and trust. And it took less than ten minutes and a sledgehammer-like treatment of the media. If this man were half as smart as he acted... No, she can't think like that. Despite everything he says, she has to hope, she has to be ready for a chance, any chance, to be free of him. And as she continues to watch, to see her surrogate storming away, leaving David behind. He had to know it wasn't her, he had to see... No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't understand it, but there was no way he could guess the truth. And Billi would be all but ruined by association, Berlowitz would be trying to lose any trail between the two of them. Everything was gone. And, for the first time ever, she tries to change to Crystal to cushion her from the feelings, to give her some buffer from the pain. But, likely, even that is probably cut off from her. <><><><><> [GM] To your surprise, you have no difficulty changing into Crystal. It doesn't dissolve the all-pervasive fetters on your thoughts and will, however. Crystal doesn't feel pain, but the despair is just as acute. Your enslaver returns a few minutes later. "Quite a spectacle, eh? You had quite a good idea, my dear, recruiting other metahumans to your cause. You just need a little assistance in organizing that endeavor." He laughs mirthlessly. A door opens and another man enters. You get a glimpse of stairs leading down, before the door closes. The newcomer has a pock-marked face and scraggly brown beard, and wears a black wool sweater and dark jeans. You can tell he's very solidly built, and he walks purposefully and somehow menacingly. He looks at you, and his expression goes from a vaguely unpleasant frown to a sickening leer. "Well....what have we here, boss?" His voice carries a slight accent as well, also European, but not quite the same as the other man (whose name you still don't even know.) "Another captive beauty...where do you find them?" "This one isn't to play with, Robert," your captor replies, with a bit of amusement in his voice that you don't like at all. "Unless of course you can persuade her with your own seductive charms." He seems even more amused, and you feel even more uneasy. "Miss Tallin is going to help us find more of our kind. In fact, I have a bit of dinner theater already planned. If you will excuse us, Miss Tallin, I must brief Mr. Gaullier on his role and yours. Feel free to change the channel." The two men leave you alone again in the living room. <><><><><> -- As Crystal, it is slightly easier to ignore the words. The leer, the sort of look she once tried to cultivate, can't penetrate her diamond-like person. But the older man's words can, and they do. They wrap themselves around comfortable parts of her mind and claim it as their home, blocking away her own ideas in a tiny, shadowed corner where they can only silently rage. She tries to build an escape from his final words, but "Feel free" simply isn't enough. Feel free to change the channel... If only she could win an order from him that would contradict his power over her, really free her... Now, she has only this. Freedom to change the channel. But she wants to take the television and throw it out the window, try to deny what it told her. She is free to change the channel, but she wants something only so slightly more... And she reaches for the television, unsure which she will manage to do. <><><><><> [GM] You can change the channel. You can also pick up the TV. However, some invisible fetter prevents you from throwing it. Conditioning that is not explicitly stated binds your actions, and you realize that this sort of violent display won't be possible, unless HE wishes it. He didn't specifically tell you that you can't start slicing up the apartment with your laser either, but you know that if you try, the action will never be completed. Alex Trebec is unveiling the categories on Jeapardy! <><><><><> -- Crystal holds the television, wishing she could finish her gesture, but realizing that the cold weight of fact says she can't. She may never be able to act freely again... No! She won't give up, she *can't*! He'll slip up, or his grip on her mind will slip. Eventually. Maybe soon. She just has to be ready for when it happens. And it will happen it has to. She sets the television back down, changing the channel just so she has any chance to exercise some freedom. Then she walks to the window and lets the sunlight warm her cold, crystal body. Cold outside, and colder within. She has to maintain that, keep her hopes frozen behind walls so he can't prevent her from her escape. There was a method acting class she'd taken, though she hadn't thought much of it and the teacher had been more interested in making broad passes as his (then actually underage) student than teaching her anything. But if she has to live in a role, in this role that is forced on her, she can learn to, and that should hide her true thoughts. It has to. And so she considers, as she stands in the window, just what this unnamed man wants from her. She'd seen the impersonator on television (or was it her on tape? No, it was live. She dimly remembers the boy who had helped save her in New York changing into her after Tyler's betrayal), so she had that to work from. Cold, angry and arrogant, hostile to normal humans, trying to draw others with powers together for... For him, certainly. But the claim is for their protection. As much a betrayer as Tyler was. Neither of them had chosen it, surely. She tries to put on the role, grateful for Crystal's body because if she was in her own, her skin would crawl at the idea. She stands more straight, her back stiff and her chin slightly raised. Crystal didn't need makeup, she was striking all the time. She concentrates on her eyes, the chill in them growing. And, when she feels as close as she can to the role, she heads toward the door the two men left through. She hadn't been told not to follow, and she wanted to be part of the planning if she was going to be part of the action. <><><><><> [GM] As you enter, the two men are conversing in what sounds like French. They stop and look at you, your "master" with a bemused, quizzical look, the other with a startled and annoyed expression. "I don't recall asking you to join us," the telepath says. "What do you want, Miss Tallin?" <><><><><> -- Crystal walks on into the room without stoping, until she stands barely an arm's length away from the older man. "You didn't ask me to join you. I decided to do that myself." Her voice has the same alien coldness she heard over the television from her doppleganger. "You've taken away all the plans I had, all of the life I knew, so I figured that I should be part of your plans. It is my future, after all, and no matter how much you control it, I think I should have a part in it. "And, if what I've seen about your press handling so far is an indication, I'm sure I can help." She rests a hand against her hip, quite conscious of the clothes she is wearing and how it must look, but equally sure that he won't care. "Are you going to send me away?" <><><><><> [GM] As you expected, the older man observes you impassively, but the other man isn't so unaffected. His gaze travels up and down your body, and he runs the tip of his tongue over his lips unconsciously. "This one really is a tigress, eh?" he says. The mind-controller smiles thinly. "She wishes to retain what illusion she can of self-determination. So be it, Miss Tallin. Would you like a drink? A cigarette, perhaps?" The other man is lighting up. "No? Well then. You are correct, I am deliberately generating negative publicity for metahumans. And you will make excellent bait to lure more of them out of hiding. Even now, advertisements are being posted in newspapers around the country. I will be sending you and Monsieur Gaulliere to meet promising candidates." The latter individual winks at you. "It will be a pleasure to work with such a lovely partner. Perhaps you will find it's not so bad as you think, non?" His leer is the sort that you would normally turn a cold shoulder to. <><><><><> -- "No. Filthy habits, both. You do want me to keep in shape, don't you?" Crystal smiles the slightest of smiles with her words, a cold curve of translucent lips. And his plans... not much to them, of course. All rather obvious. He could learn a few lessons about negative publicity, though. A lot of lessons. But her attention turns to the other man, the one she can voice her dislike of. "Oh, Robert," she begins, her tone sweet, the pronunciation of the name perfectly French. She steps behind him, cold hands draped over his shoulders. From there, she could look straight at the telepath, but she avoids his gaze for the moment. "I'm certain we will be able to work together quite well. Because I'm sure you will remember that, if it ever does get anything close to as bad as I think..." Her tone is growing frigid, and her hand snaps up to snatch the just-lit cigarette from his lips. "I won't hesitate to correct matters." And she punctuates her comment by taking the cigarette in one hand and pressing it firmly into her other palm. She expects to feel nothing against her crystal skin, but it is as she makes the dramatic gesture that she looks up, across the table. "I trust I've made myself clear?" <><><><><> [GM] The mind-controller's smile broadens as you reflect on his plans and judge them "simple and obvious". You're sure he caught that thought, and he looks amused. Robert blinks when you crush the cigarette (painlessly) against your palm, but otherwise looks unimpressed. "Mais ois, Miss Tallin. We would not want to have any misunderstandings, would we? We are all one big happy family, non?" His own smile is pure malice. <><><><><> -- [So what are our friendly Puppetmaster's reactions to this tiny feud among his 'loyal' followers? Oh, and I don't recall the scene being described. I had assumed the two men were sitting at a table of some sort, but I could be wrong. Could you let me know?] Crystal barely bothers to look at Robert. His attitude toward her is unimportant, much as he is. He'll do what he's told. Like she has to. The final thought grates harshly in her mind. "So," she says, stepping around Robert to get a better look at the head of this 'family'. And it isn't at all by accident that the former is left with a good view of the way her costume emphasizes an already quite attractive rear view. "What does Robert do?" She chooses to use his first name almost purely because he called her 'Miss Tallin.' That should define their roles if she can help it. "I'm assuming he's got some sort of power beyond leering, because after that press conference it wouldn't do for me to be accompanied anywhere by anyone mundane." <><><><><> [GM] The two men were standing in front of a neat, empty desk when you appeared. Equally empty shelves line the wall, though there are also some cabinets with the doors shut. The Puppet Master [no, Crystal hasn't actually heard that term yet, but I'll be using it now for convenience] observes the exchange between you and Robert, still looking perpetually amused. "Ah, still vain," he says. "Mister Gaulliere has some exceptional talents of his own, I assure you. You will learn what they are when and if you need to." "Point for me, non, cheri?" Robert lights up another cigarette. "I know what you can do, but you don't know what I can do. Might make you think twice about getting too much attitude with me, hmm?" "All right," says the Pupper Master. "That's enough. I am not going to tell you how you must feel about one another- though I could." (He can't seem to pass up an opportunity to point out his domination over you.) "But you WILL work together. Miss Tallin, if you let any personal disdain for Mister Gaulliere cause you to fail in your assigned task, I will turn you into his most ardent admirer, your slavish devotion to him second only to that for me." Robert seems to like that idea, but the other man then turns his steely gaze on the Frenchman. "And you know better than to think that I won't do something that will make the point equally well where *you* are concerned." Robert wipes the smirk off his face, and nods somberly, but there's still a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Now," the older man continues, "Miss Tallin, before you go change into some clothes appropriate for walking about town- don't worry, I had some of your wardrobe brought here- did you have any ideas in particular regarding publicity? I will admit that thoughts generated of your own volition tend to be more inspired than thoughts pulled from your mind by force. I'm curious to know just what you think you can contribute." <><><><><> -- Crystal has no problem ignoring the threats this time. What she can't prevent she needn't worry about, but she's made it clear what she thinks and how far she'll cooperate. "Simple enough. The press conference was nothing. It upset most of my friends, but not so much it could be explained. And it may have panicked a few people who already thought people with powers couldn't be trusted, but that's not very hard either. What you're missing is that if you really want me and my line to be a draw for our kind, we need positive press, not just negative. They say there's no such thing as bad press, but there is such a thing as 'no press.' Another couple stunts like that conference and no one will bother with Crystal, no matter how sexy the costume is. That sort of thing is boring, it gets a couple days' attention then nothing. If we want real attention, we need to do things that will play well in the tabloids. That's assuming you want bad press, which goes with the image you picked." Chris had never tried for negative press before, and had very little except the bits she earned by being pickier about her shoots than most. But she knew the tricks. "Am I going to be staying in Europe? Because if so, I need to do a little more to get anyone's attention. But I can handle it. You want him in the stories? I'd recommend someone a little more photogenic, but we could play the 'beauty and the beast' angle if that's your style." <><><><><> [GM] "You underestimate me, Miss Tallin. Of course I don't expect a few temper tantrums in front of the cameras to provoke the response I want." He looks amused at your question about Europe, but doesn't answer. Robert frowns, and blows smoke in your face at the 'beauty and the beast' comment. His contemptuous gesture is wasted, since the smoke doesn't bother you as Crystal. "In the room across the outer den from this door is a bedroom," the Puppet Master says. "You'll find there a suitcase with some of your wardrobe. Return to your flesh and blood form, and go put on some normal clothes over this costume...something appropriate for walking about town." <><><><><> -- "I can only work with what you tell me. So far, I don't see much, but I call it like I see it." Crystal ignores Robert's gesture. Taunting him was too easy. She starts to turn, even before she can think about it, to obey the instructions. But she stops. "What town? Or don't you care if I try to be in style? And did you bring any makeup for me? I'd rather look good, no matter what role you've picked for me." <><><><><> [GM] The older man hesitates, then shrugs. "You are in St. Louis. Not the most 'stylish' of towns. Don't dress up too extravagantly; you're only going for a little walk. And I told Miss Sterrit to pack all your necessities. I presume that includes a makeup case, but if not, you can acquire one quickly enough." <><><><><> -- The Saint Louis revelation almost shakes her, but Crystal's less flexible features make it a little easier to hide. She should have known, with the TV in English, but everything had suggested Europe... She'd overplayed her hand already. "I have everything Tyler thinks I need? I'm sure I'll be just *fine*." Her voice drips out with sarcasm, but she doesn't have any excuses to stay any longer, so she makes her way as he directed, locating her belongings and selecting something appropriate. Something cut so it will hide the costume. And then, only reluctantly, does she shift back to her own form, trying to brace herself against the rush of emotional pain, anger, embarrassment, frustration... But Chris holds her reaction in check, as best she can, choking back her feelings just like Crystal had to. She takes what supplies she has and tries to make herself look more presentable, though the style she chooses is not hers at all. The makeup screams cheapness, a tawdry gloss on her beauty that matches the new personality she's forced to play. She can't match the clothes to that look too well if she's to cover the costume, and she doesn't have too much by way of appropriate clothes anyway. She'll have to do some shopping. When she's ready, she puts as much of Crystal's cold remoteness into her mind as she can and strides back into the room where the two men were. "So, we ready to go for that walk now?" <><><><><> [GM] "You and Mr. Gaulliere are going," says the Puppet Master. "I am not. If you need anything, feel free to do some shopping." He looks at Gaulliere for a few moments, then the Frenchman nods. Robert moves to the front door, and opens it for you with mock courtesy. "Apres vouz," he says, gesturing for you to precede him down the stairs. <><><><><> -- "Did you pick that out of my mind or come up with it yourself?" Chris tries to make her tone as disdainful as the thought is, but even that degree of hostility toward her mind's master is difficult, if not outright impossible... "So am I supposed to do anything but walk around and attract notice? Or is that supposed to be a surprise?" If she gets no real answer, she turns and heads out at Robert's suggestion, her hips swaying with just a bit more emphasis than usual. The better to taunt him with... <><><><><> [GM] "Mr. Gaulliere will fill you in on your role," says the Puppet Master. "You do not need to attract notice just yet." Leaving the apartment, you notice the world famous arch, a few miles away. Clearly there wouldn't have been any point in his concealing your location from you, once he decided to send you outside. Out on the street, Gaulliere paces alongside you silently for a while, puffing on his cigarette. Then he says, "You have a pretty nasty attitude. Understandable, under the circumstances." You notice when he's not trying to be 'cute', his French accent becomes MUCH less pronounced. "It occur to you maybe I don't have any more choice than you do?" <><><><><> -- It hadn't. Not until then. But to react would break her role, and she needed to build some trust for the psycic, if that was possible. "No choice, huh? So you weren't born a pig, you just let our friend back there make one out of you. That makes me feel a lot better." She doesn't even look at him. That makes it easier to ignore his attempt to humanize himself. "So, can we go wherever we want or do your orders have some destination in mind?" <><><><><> [GM] "Yeah, just like you 'let' him make you a bitch!" he laughs, sounding amused rather than offended at your taunt. "Or were you always one?" "I know exactly what you're doing, cher. Trying to be someone you're not, so you can pretend it isn't really you doing these things. I do it myself. Yeah, he is going to make you do horrible things, so you might as well learn to enjoy it." He takes a last drag from his cigarette and tosses it into the street. "We have to be somewhere later this evening...that's when you get to see what Monsieur Puppet Master has in mind. We have a little time before then. You have something in mind? I know I do." He winks at you with a leer so obvious you know he's just trying to goad you. <><><><><> -- "What I do or don't enjoy is none of your business. And I doubt it ever will be." Is that what she's doing? Trying to hide behind an act so she can deny what she's forced to do? Or is she really trying to win her freedom back...? Robert's observation makes her doubt her own motives. What he suggests explains what she's doing a lot better than what she told herself... "'Puppet Master,' huh? He pick that name himself? Sounds like it... Anyway, my plan is to do like he said, some shopping. I guess you have to tag along, right? Well, I need a lot of more appropriate clothes and makeup, so I hope you don't get bored carrying packages. I just hope he isn't going to make me wear this ridiculous costume under everything, because I will *not* spend the rest of my life in clothes cut to cover a bodysuit. And you'd rather I don't as well, wouldn't you?" As if the earlier hostility and insults were forgotten, Chris turns to her escort with a look that could only be described as seductive. She had no plans of actually letting him touch her, let alone anything else, but he seemed so easy to lead on that she had to test his limits... <><><><><> [GM] Robert smiles, but there's just a little too much cynicism in his eyes. "You think you're just the sexiest thing on Earth, don't you, cher? Don't play that game too much around some of the other men working for our employer. Not everyone serves him unwillingly, and they might ask him to make you their reward for good performance. And it might amuse him to do it." He speaks as if he's warning you, but you get the impression he likes that idea himself. "But don't worry- I don't see that happening as long as we have our luscious prisoner to play with. Sad to say, she's much more beautiful than yo-" He suddenly winces, and jerks his head as if trying to shake something out. Then chomps on his cigarette fiercely and looks at you with a slight glare. "Well, you need to buy some things, let's get on with it, eh?" <><><><><> -- The wince catches Chris' attention. Was that what would happen to her if she tried to speak beyond what this 'Puppet Master' wanted to allow? And what was he saying... A prisoner? Something she would need to find out more about, perhaps when he was distracted and likely to slip again... She seems to ignore it now. But his warning... that couldn't be ignored, at least not easily. She had been threatened with that already, directly, and it worried her, somewhat. To avoid it, she would have to do a good job at what he wants her to do. Better than others were managing. Which means she has to be very subtle with her other plans... "You know your way around here? I hope there's something better than a K-Mart, though I suppose *real* clothes are out of the question. I suppose we'll have to go to the local mall, hmm?" The idea had some potential... [BTW, when Chris was dressing, did she have her ID and credit cards and such among the things Tyler lifted for her or is she without means to pay for what she's looking for?] <><><><><> [GM] You found none of your identification or credit cards; hardly surprising, since if you somehow escaped the Puppet Master, being stranded in a strange city with no money or proof of ID would undoubtedly be a great hindrance. "We can go wherever you want, cher," Robert says. "I don' know Saint Louis that well, but if there's some big fancy store you want to go to, lead on. We certainly want you to look your best, don't we?" <><><><><> -- "I don't know what 'we' want, and I'm not sure I care. I know that I need some more appropriate clothes and other things, so if you've been told to tag along, I guess I can't stop you." Chris starts walking, then, with no real direction in mind. She looks for a taxi, or some sign that might direct her to someplace appropriate more quickly. She doesn't really pay Robert any attention, but knows he'll follow closely. If she manages to hail a taxi, she will instruct the driver to take them to the finest clothing store in the city, expecting that, in a place as provincial as the Midwest always was, a store with some more recent and, given her current role, decadent fashions would be relatively nearby. The thought of worrying about paying for the ride or the clothing has yet to even enter her mind. <><><><><> [GM] The cabby takes you to the mall in West St. Louis, which features a number of fine clothes shops, as well as Nordstrom's and other upscale chain stores. Nothing like where you usually shop, but it will have to do. It finally occurs to you that you're without funds. Robert smirks as he pulls a twenty out of his jacket and pays the cab fare, then holds the door open for you. <><><><><> -- "Wonderful. Mass market fashions. I suppose I'll manage to find something... Do I have a budget? And how much time do we have, since only you know the rules?" The question is asked with a bitter tone, expecting that she'll get a rather limited answer. <><><><><> [GM] "Spend as much as you want, cher. The boss gives us a pretty big expense account. He also prefers we pay in cash, though." Robert hands you a roll of $50 bills. "Is that enough? Just make like you're one of those eccentric Hollywood types." He smiles faintly. "We meet back here in four hours, kay, cher? That be enough time for you? I got a couple of things to do myself, and the Puppet Master isn't worried about you causing trouble. Believe me, he's put all kinds of little tripwires in your brain, set to pull you up short if you try to get out of line." He says the last part with a touch of bitterness. <><><><><> -- "Thanks. I should be able to manage." Robert's warning sends a chill down her spine. The idea of tripwires in her brain, things she could try to do only to have her mind refuse to go along, is the worst thing she can imagine. She had thought letting Billi manage her PR was a betrayal. Now she knew what it was like to have no control over any part of her life. And, as she had always thought she would, she hated it. The early shopping isn't too difficult. She finds the makeup she needs, far more than she's used to, and more harsh and obvious. Already she was far enough from her usual look that she didn't expect to be recognized, though this shopping trip was the biggest risk of that she could imagine. She lingers, hoping someone will make the connection, but not expecting success. She goes to every decent clothing store in the mall, finding enough to create at least the basics of her new look. It wasn't a pretty look. It was designed to shock, do assault the onlooker and demand attention. Many of the selections were daringly tight, almost indecently cut. She wouldn't think of wearing anything like these clothes on the street under normal circumstances. But she wasn't under normal circumstances now. This look would fit with the costume he'd chosen for her, and the predominant colors were deep blue and black. Even out of 'uniform' she would look her part. She even finds a few that could be worn over the uniform, though most want far too much exposed skin to allow that. She has everything packed and sent to the mall's service desk. She wouldn't be bothered carrying it all herself. The final selection is an addition to the costume. It needed more, an even more definite statement of the new attitude. She found that statement in black leather, gleaming chrome. The jacket would fit over the body-hugging costume and just scream attitude, rebellion. The exact opposite of what had really happened. But a chance to see what sort of attention she could get. She takes the jacket in one hand and, ignoring the heavy weight of the security tag, walks out of the shop. [Obviously, this could all stop if someone recognized her earlier or if PM's tripwires include something to keep her from calling attention to herself by this little bit of inaction. Just let me know what happens... ] <><><><><> [GM] [I'm not sure I understand her intentions-is she deliberately trying to shoplift the jacket?] <><><><><> [Well, actually what she's trying to do is get *caught* shoplifting the jacket. But I guess that assumes the attempt to shoplift the jacket . [And succeed or fail, she's really going to hate herself for even considering this... If she wasn't able to balance this against whatever PM is going to force her to do, which will doubtless be much worse, she wouldn't even be able to imagine herself doing it, I'm sure.] <><><><><> [GM] You feel self-conscious, stupid, and increasingly embarrassed as you head for the door with the jacket slung over your arm. "Super-Model arrested at St. Louis Nordstrom's, for Shoplifting!" Just the thought of that kind of headline makes you wince. You'd never be able to show your face in public again. But compared to the sort of headlines the Puppet Master might be forcing you to generate, this seems like a trivial thing by comparison. What's an embarrassing bit of celebrity misbehavior, compared to the utter ruination of your entire life? Any trepidation you might have felt about getting caught shoplifting, however, pales to insignificance when the pressure in your mind begins to push against you, pushes against your free exercise of will. {contrarywrongdisobedient} It's as if there's a little Puppet Master there, inside your head, scrutinizing your actions and judging their appropriateness. In some inexpressible way, you realize instinctively that it's not really a seperate entity, it's YOU censoring your own behavior. Your own faculties have been altered, to the extent that you stop yourself from doing anything "inappropriate". Inappropriate to your master's goals. The way it feels is still just as horrible as you feared; you slow to a stop and stand there, looking at the door, and you can no more step through than you can make your eyes pop out of your skull, fly around the room, and jump back into their sockets. You may have the desire, but it's not even as if you're straining to do something and your body won't obey; you simply can't issue the neurological commands that will cause your body to react. Somewhere in your brain, between the part where you make decisions and the part where decisions are translated into signals to be sent out through your nervous system, the message just disappears. You can stand there as long as you like. You can turn around and go pay for the coat, or put it back on the rack, or wander around the store carrying it...but you can't go out the door, when you know the consequences will be contrary to your master's desires. Your traitor self won't let you go on, but it will let you cry, and that's what you're dangerously close to doing. <><><><><> -- Chris shudders and stops, then tries to argue with herself. This sort of public embarrassment is just what he wants, better than anything he's told her. It shows her disregard for the rules others live by, it's the perfect active expression of the "Get out of my way" her double snarled at the press conference. (It won't get her arrested and taken away or raise questions about how she got her so quickly or allow her a chance to...) It *is* what he wants... But perhaps not dramatic enough. Standing where she is, she slips the jacket on, glancing at a mirror to assure herself it was a perfect choice for her new look. There. This is perfect... And she tries to press forward again <><><><><> [GM] You try, but meet the same resistance. You can't "trick" yourself, it seems. The Puppet Master's inhibitions go deeper than your surface thoughts. A sales assistant, probably noticing the odd way you've headed for the door twice and stopped, approaches you. "Are you interested in this coat, ma'am?" she asks, politely but with an unmistakeably suspicious look in her eyes. In your old life, you'd be dying of embarrassment. <><><><><> -- "I'm not sure. Does it look right to you?" Chris drops back into the role, to keep herself from burning with shame. What was she doing? Had she really sunk this far? She holds out her arms and spins around once, then looks at the clerk again. "What do you think? Is it right for me?" <><><><><> [GM] "It looks...quite daring," the clerk says. "If you do a lot of clubbing, it'll look fantastic on you." She hesitates, looking at you again, and for a moment, you fear/hope that she may be about to recognize you. Then her face becomes the solicitious plastic smile of a sales assistant again. "Would you like me to wrap it up for you?" <><><><><> -- Chris runs her hand along the slick sleeve of the jacket, part of her mind rebelling against the horrible betrayal of her friends wearing leather means, part of her knowing this really is, no trick, the perfect accessory for the new Crystal. Or would be when she was done adding to it. "No. I'll wear it out." It doesn't quite go with what she's wearing, but it will be perfect when she strips down to Crystal's costume. She pulls the much-shrunken wad of bills from her pocket and peels off one more than she needs to pay for the jacket. "Keep the change." That was harmless enough, but maybe it would help her be remembered, maybe she'd sell the story to the press, the tabloids, and someone could piece together what was happening to Chris... It was so improbable it wasn't even enough to hope for. And, hopefully, it was nothing the Puppet Master's trips would prevent. She holds up her arm where the security tag hangs. "Don't forget about this thing, okay?" <><><><><> [GM] The sales clerk looks a little taken aback...probably not used to receiving tips, which is pretty much what you hoped. She looks around guiltily, as if not sure it's allowed. "Umm, thanks," she says, abashed. "Thanks very much." She quickly removes the security tag, and rings up the sale, handing you the receipt. "Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with, ma'am." One insignificant act of treason against the Puppet Master's will...but you did it. It probably won't have any effect at all, but his awareness is not, after all, omniscient. You have a few more hours to see just how much far your strings extend. <><><><><> -- Now that the coat was hers, more ideas were coming to Chris's mind. The costume was sexy, no question, and it made a statement. But it didn't say enough. It didn't scream the self-reliance and anger the press conference had. It wasn't ready yet. She needed more. But where to find what she needs... She hadn't ever expected to be shopping at Sears, but she hadn't planned on turning into Crystal or being in Saint Louis under the control of a telepathic puppeteer either, so she was getting used to surprises. It was easier and easier to roll with the punches. She finds the hardware section easily enough, digging through the shelves until she finds the two colors she needs, two spray cans one in a deep blue close to that of her costume and another much lighter shade. She pays for them both, then smiles at the salesman as she walks out, shaking the cans, to stand outside the mall and look at freedom she knows better than to run for. She stops at the first trash can she finds and removes the new jacket, draping it over the top of the can, the back toward her. She shakes the dark can some more, pops off the lid (it's harder than she expects, but it's only a short struggle) and sprays a long, steady curve along the back. It starts just below where her right shoulder would be, curves up to just below the collar then down her left side and flattens out to cross back to the right. She lets it dry for a second as she opens the lighter colored paint, shaking it for a moment without looking around at anyone else entering the mall. She then paints the second curve as a highlight to the first, holding the can closer to get a smaller line, following the inside of the single letter to emphasize it. It'll do. Chris takes the store bag, the two lids and the still almost full paint cans and tosses them into the trashcan. She gives the paint a moment to dry, then lifts the jacket, admiring her work again with a smile. Crystal's logo in a new, more forceful, way. Then she put the jacket on and started to consider what else she might need... [I don't know, the limits on what she can do might kick in again here at about any point. But I went on to the end just to be complete. Feel free to step in at any point.] <><><><><> [GM] You get some strange looks from passersby, but no one stops you...and neither does any invisible tripwire in your mind. <><><><><> -- Chris puts the jacket back on and walks back into the mall, sweeping by everyone she passes with an aloof air she normally tries to avoid. She considers using the remaining time to do more shopping or find even more stark accessories for Crystal's new look, but then she sees a discount, walk in hair salon. Oh, that was necessary too. Christine Tallin's salon-perfect look was all wrong for Crystal, even though Crystal actually has no hair. People would see her in her normal form as well, and she needs a new look to go with her new style. She steps in and asks how long it would take for a coloring, cut and styling. She has a picture in her mind that asks for the blackest of black hair, cropped into an angry style to match the jacket. It would make her less easily recognized at first, but no one would forget it later. The possible drawback, of course, is that there might not be time... <><><><><> [GM] You don't have to wait too long. The salonist comments that you have lovely hair, and asks if you're *sure* you want such a radical change, suggesting some decent (though sub-par, for you) stylings she could do instead. At your insistence, though, she does what you want. When she's done, it's getting close to the time you have to meet up again with Robert. <><><><><> -- "Thanks for the advice, but I know what I have to do. Do the best you can, all right? I'm sure it will be fine." But she isn't. Chris can barely look at the mirrors as she lets her carefully developed appearance, her always perfectly kept hair, be totally changed, dyed dark and cut away. If she doesn't look, ignores the time, she can imagine this is just another transformation, like Crystal, and she'll be able to go back when she wants to. She can imagine that, but she knows it isn't true. She forces herself to believe it, though, but barely manages to keep up any level of conversation during the process. She wants to be either personable or rude, something that will be remembered, but she can't manage either and just passes the time in numb shock. And then it is done and she pays her bill, again with a significant tip (though here that is more expected) and makes her way toward the rendezvous with Robert, stopping only to find herself a pair of moderately priced black sunglasses, just to finish off the look. When she arrives where she should be, she looks for Robert but tries to keep him from noticing her. If she succeeds, she then walks past him, seeing if he notices her. And she waits, not far from him but without turning her back toward him for long, until she is actually just late enough for him to begin to look a little nervous. "Robert," she says, just loud enough for him to hear her, her voice clear and level, cutting through the crowd around them. She lowers the sunglasses and glances at him over the rim, sarcasm rising in her voice. "Looking for me, _mon cher_?" <><><><><> [GM] Robert again proves to be sharper than he seems...he does miss you when you first walk by, but catches you on the second pass. "Well," he says, "that's a new look. Not bad, a little...cheap, for such an expensive lady, though, non? What's the matter, cher, feeling a little tarnished?" He looks at his watch. "Come on, I'm sure you're dying to see what Monsieur Puppet Master has in mind for us." He begins walking, towards downtown. "Tell me, cher, have you ever killed anyone before?" <><><><><> -- "Only by the company I'm keeping," Chris says, more angry at how quickly he stripped away all the lies she'd told herself than anything else. "And I though if I have to play along, I might as well look the part. Don't try to tell me you don't like it." And then he leads her away, continuing to talk. She tries to ignore him, not wanting to hear what he has to say anyway, but the words are all too clear. She stops dead in her tracks, staring at him from behind the mask of the jet black glasses. "no," she says, not half as much in answer to his question as in firm, if, she dreads, impotent refusal. <><><><><> [GM] His grin becomes even more mocking, triumphant. "Not such a tough girl now, are you?" You have no choice but to follow him. "It's very simple," he says, as you head deeper into the darker downtown area. "There's a kid, a metahuman kid, that the boss wants. We have to recover the boy, AND foil the federal agents that are about to try the same thing. If possible, we make it look like we're saving the boy from the cops. Oh, and of course the federal agents have at least one superhuman among them...who we're to kill, if possible." He smiles humorlessly. "No doubt there's more to this whole scheme than that, but that's as much as the Puppet Master felt necessary to tell this humble servant." <><><><><> -- "I'm not going to kill anyone. I can't do that. I..." She has to follow, and she knows she has to obey. Does that mean she will have to kill? That can't be possible. He can't control her that much. It's easier to ignore it, to hope the order is never put to the test. "What about this 'kid.' Did he say anything about him, what he could do or whether he has any reason to be friendly?" <><><><><> [GM] "Apparently, he's a little puppet master himself," Robert says. "He's got a street gang doing his bidding. The Puppet Master said he just arrived in St. Louis...I guess he works fast. But the gendarmes must have been on his trail already. So maybe the kid is friendly, if we rescue him from the big bad federal agents, or maybe he attacks us, and we get to see which puppet master has stronger strings." He laughs. "Maybe that's what our master really wants to find out, but I'm sure he wouldn't send us against this kid if he really had any doubts about the outcome." <><><><><> -- "Great. Just what the world needs more of." Chris' bitterness is totally unhidden now. The idea of two people like the Puppet Master is too much to take. Unless, somehow, they could cancel each other out... "So, how showy does the Man want this? I'm pretty good at flashy if he wants the attention, but I can't say I'm much use if this is supposed to be a quiet snatch." <><><><><> [GM] "He thinks that a team of federal agents is already staking the kid out, and is about to move in on him. So we stake THEM out, wait for them to move, then come to the rescue." The neighborhood is becoming dingier. Normally, you'd be very uncomfortable in this part of town, but it hardly seems to matter now, even if you couldn't turn into Crystal. Robert keeps walking, across an intersection towards a shopping center considerably more downscale than the one you just left. People loitering at a liquor store on the corner eye you and whistle, but no one seems inclined to actually harass you, as the two of you keep going. "There's a video game arcade in here where the boy and his friends like to hang out," Robert says. "I figure we watch from the roof across the street. Oh, don't look at that green sedan by the laundromat, but a couple of the federal agents are in it. Probably a couple others sitting inside the Dairy Queen. Guess we a bit late." He begins walking around the corner, and into a garbage-strewn alley that runs behind the shopping center. <><><><><> -- "You take me to such romantic places, Robert," Chris says, her voice dripping again with sarcasm now that she has managed to smother her denial. She wouldn't kill for anyone, no matter how much power he had over her mind. She knew that, but she also knew that her body might betray her. She could only endure this as best she can. "So when they act, we move in as Crystal and... well, whatever it is you do. This is supposed to be a big show, all the front pages and everything, right? I mean, why send me otherwise?" <><><><><> [GM] "Frankly, I gave you all the orders I have, cher," Robert answers. "He didn't specify whether it was to be flashy or subtle. I can speculate why he sent you, though." You step gingerly over some refuse in the alley down which you're following him. "He may have schemes for you and using you for publicity, but he's also got a finite number of superhumans to send on these little missions of his, non? I think he just wants this kid, and you happen to be here, so you get sent with me." He turns and smiles at you. "But what do I know, I'm just the help?" Suddenly he wraps an arm around your waist. Before you can react, before you can protest, he says "Up we go, cher-" And you're ten feet off the ground, and rising. Robert is levitating towards the roof of the building, carrying you with him. <><><><><> -- Chris is readying a sharp reply when Robert's sudden action catches her by surprise. But not so much by surprise that a new reflex can't kick in. As he holds here and they float upwards, the body in his arm changes from warm, soft flesh to cold, sharp diamond. Once they are atop the roof, she pushes away sharply, her eyes literally glaring at him, with a light all their own that is visible even though the dark plastic sunglasses she wears. Then the light moves, gathering in her index finger with a dangerous intensity. "Nice trick, Robert. So you fly. The bitch in New York flew, too. But if you touch me again, you'll regret it, _non_?" <><><><><> [GM] "Ah, cher, you play hard to get so sweetly," he says tauntingly, but you notice he does casually take a step backwards, out of reach. "tch tch," he adds, waving a finger. "The fact is, you can threaten all you like, but neither of us can harm the other unless Monsieur Puppet Master wished us to, for some reason." Still, he seems careful not to turn his back on you as he moves to an air-conditioning vent on the roof, and pries it up to pull out a large black plastic envelope, the sort one carries a suit in when travelling. "I have to change for the occasion, cherie," he says, beginning to peel off his shirt, after glancing around to make sure there are no other rooftop observers on adjacent buildings. "Please, feel free to watch." <><><><><> -- Her sharp features turn into a frown and she turns away from his offer without even dignifying it with a response. But if he was changing into some sort of "costume," she probably should as well. That just meant removing the clothes she wore over it, then replacing the jacket that was part of the costume now. But still, she walks a short way across the roof first and finds a tall vent of her own to offer some privacy. And she doesn't change back to flesh. Not in this ridiculous costume where even breathing risked indecent exposure. Crystal doesn't need to breath... <><><><><> [GM] When you return, you find Robert pulling on a pair of heavy black boots. He's now covered from head to toe in a black bodysuit, with enough solid "padding" beneath that you suspect it's not merely a costume, but armor as well. Kevlar, perhaps. Unlike yours, it's not particularly decorative or flashy. Quite the opposite, in fact. Aside from an abstract, vaguely sinister red design over the face, it's virtually featureless, just an unrelieved black suit that's probably ideal for skulking around at night. He looks at you, and standing there like a supervillain out of a comic book, he looks impressive despite your best efforts to be disdainful. The padding enhances his build, and he visibly has changed his bearing somewhat. You have to admit, seeing that dark-suited figure rushing at you would be a little unnerving, especially if he's flying. His expression, of course, is invisible beneath his mask, but his voice, echoing from beneath the mask, is solemn, with no trace of the mocking banter he maintained before. Even the tone of his voice has altered, becoming deeper and more sinister. "Take up a position at the edge of the roof, and keep your head down. We'll move at my signal. Can you jump from a second story building and land without injuring yourself, or do you need me to carry you down?" <><><><><> -- "I can handle myself." She isn't sure of that, but she thinks it has to be true. If she could take the punishment Lucy Golden had dished out in New York, she could drop a couple stories, no problem. That had to be true. "So, do you have a clever little nickname to go with the sinister look? I doubt you want me to call you 'Robert' during our mission, right?" <><><><><> [GM] "Good point. I haven't worked with a partner before. It had never occurred to me to adopt some comic book name like 'Crystal'." He walks to the edge of the building and crouches down. "Hmm. I suppose 'Glider' will do. Not very 'sinister', eh? But I never was particularly concerned with getting attention." You can see a number of teens and pre-teens loitering in front of a video arcade, next to a 7-11. And as you watch, you see three men in dark suits casually walking along the front row of shops perpendicular to the building in which the arcade and convenience store are located, across the parking lot from the building on which you and Robert are perched. "Remember," Robert whispers, "if we see a government metahuman...we try to kill him." And you're terribly conscious of the fact that he's said nothing about what to do with the kids, who, if his description is correct, may well turn into mind-controlled puppets fighting against you and the government agents, when things get hot. <><><><><> -- "It's not bad. But it's boring. If we get a chance, we should tell the press to spell it with a 'y' or something. You may not like attention, but I live for it and I've found you're often judged by the company you keep." She frowns as he reminds her of the darkest part of their instructions. The expression could easily be lost except that the facets of her face shift and twinkle in the bits of reflected light. "I'm not going to kill anyone." And she hopes that saying it again will make it have a better chance of staying true. Then she turns and watches the building, waiting for something she doesn't want to happen... <><><><><> [GM] The agents continue moving in on the kids loitering in front of the arcade. The next few moments are a confused blur. The kids suddenly jump up in alarm; two produce small automatic weapons from beneath their jackets. The G-men produce large pistols, and you're horrified that government agents would shoot *children*, then a few shots ring out, fired by one of the kids, and a blur is moving among them, like a half-visible shadow that flits from one place to another before your eyes can rest on it long enough to make out even an outline. Two kids are collapsing to the ground, and one of the agents fires, but though the gun jerks in his hand, you don't see a flash or hear a detonation- silenced? Yelling and screaming from inside the arcade, more kids collapse suddenly, a man by the door runs headfirst through the glass windowfront, shattering it as he tumbles inside, and Robert says "Let's go!" and leaps off the roof, not merely gliding but shooting rapidly through the air, a black blur himself as he descends at an angle towards the video arcade, and though you wish you could hang back, you know you can't. <><><><><> -- For the first moment, Crystal almost moves on her own. The government can't do this... They can't get away with this. But then she realizes that her purpose here is not any more noble than theirs. Would the Puppet Master avoid shooting at kids for his goals? Of course not. He would destroy anything or anyone to get what he wanted. And he already had her. She leaps from the roof, panic growing in her for a moment before she drops heavily to the ground, trying to land on her feet. And once she is on her feet, she rushes forward to the arcade, trying to figure out who is who and where she should go without standing there and making a target of herself... <><><><><> [GM] The ground rushes at you, and instinctively you wince at the thought of the coming impact, which hits sooner that you thought. The landing jars you, and you don't land anywhere near as gracefully as you'd have liked, your legs folding beneath you and slamming your knees into the pavement, followed by your shoulder as you fall to your side. But you don't feel injured, just shaken. Your diamond-hard body made an impression in the parking lot. You rise, rush towards the arcade, and see both government agents and teenagers gaping at you in astonishment. One kid is raising his Ingram to point it at an agent, then collapses suddenly, shot (?). Robert slams into the nearest agent, sending the man back into the wall of the store hard enough to rattle windows. The man collapses, with blood pouring from his mouth. There's a flash, a blur zooms past Robert and the Frenchman exclaims in pain as something hits HIM, hard. He spins in the air, almost collapses, then shoots up into the air as the blur zips around in a U-turn and tries to make another pass. For an instant, the blur stops, resolves itself into a man wearing a dark bodysuit not too different from Robert's, but without the mask. The man raises a pistol, and there's a "whipwhipwhip" sound. Impacts as whatever he fires bounces off Robert's bodysuit. "GET HIM!" Robert shouts at you. <><><><><> -- The shock of the impact is more discomforting than anything. And it probably tore the knees out of her uniform, and a few other places. She'll have to avoid that sort of thing later. Things are moving too fast. The man is moving too fast, impossibly fast. He must be the government meta-human. The one she's supposed to... Robert is in trouble. His armor probably won't hold out forever and whatever he's being shot with... Chris tells herself she's going to blind the government meta-human, a blast of light to burn in his eyes and disable him, at least for a few moments. That's what she tells herself. But there's an order, one she probably can't resist, and as she raises her hand toward him and lets the light that gathers in her flow out, she isn't entierly sure just what form it will take... <><><><><> [GM] Your arm glows, and blazing light radiates from your fingers. The beam that lances out at the man in black might be merely a blinding flash or might be a lethal attack- you're saved from finding out because the man isn't there anymore. You don't have time to see what happens when your bolt hits the wall across the parking lot, because you're suddenly knocked off your feet. "OUCH! Dammit!" The blur zips to halt, shaking his hand. Robert takes advantage of the distraction to dive towards another government man. You see something appear in his hand with a "snap!" It's a row of spikes protruding from the back of his fist. It also seems to you that Robert is moving unnaturally fast as well, though nothing like the government metahuman. Too fast for the agent in the suit to evade him. Robert's arm swings in a blur, and the agent falls to the ground, as blood spatters the wall in an arc behind him. Kids are running in all directions, and you continue to hear gunfire all around. <><><><><> -- Chris has no wish to turn and see if her blast left damage on the distant wall or to see if Robert had finished their 'mission' for them. For the moment, she could turn her attention to other things, to their primary goal. There was too much gunfire, and she didn't know if her crystal form was proof against it, but she had a better chance than these kids did. She gets to her feet and runs toward the arcade, trying to put herself where she can shield the kids and, if she gets a chance, using her power to blind any armed agent she sees taking aim at her. <><><><><> [GM] As you approach the arcade, you see one prone teenager lying on the ground, hand still loosely wrapped around a cheap hangun. Stuck in his side is a dart of some kind. A dark-suited man is pointing a gun at you. You raise your hand and pulse a flash of light at him, even as he squeezes the trigger. A sharp 'crack' precedes the impact of a projectile against your chest. It bounces and spins to the ground, another dart, the needle broken off after hitting your diamond-hard skin. The agent is rapidly backpedaling, blindly groping his way towards cover behind a parked car. Someone swears, and gunfire roars not far away. From inside the arcade, one of the kids is ripping off rounds with an uzi, as he backs deeper into the establishment. He's sweeping the parking lot, but his aim must be pretty bad, since he's not hitting any agents. On the other hand, they did scatter and duck when he cut loose, and the few shots they fire back at him go whirling into the electronically-illuminated cavern of the arcade, or make spider-web impacts against the glass storefront. There aren't any kids left standing conscious outside the arcade. <><><><><> -- Darts. The government men are using darts against real guns. She's on the wrong side, that is what a sick feeling in Crystal's gut tells her. But she has no choice. "I'm here to help," she calls into the arcade, her voice firm despite her internal doubts. "Let me in, we'll see what we can do." She raises her hands, palms facing the arcade, realizing even as she does it that this actually would make it easier for her to attack them by surprise. She tries to keep that idea out of her head, watching for any reaction from inside and, if nothing seems too negative, rushing forward and through the door. <><><><><> [GM] "Not so fast, lady!" A pair of hands grabs you by the shoulders, and yanks you backwards, off your feet, before you can react. You topple back, landing on your rear with an asphalt-chipping 'crack!', and see the blur, twenty feet away and making a u-turn almost too fast for your eye to follow. Robert is splitting another agent's head open with the blades projecting from his forearms. You try to squelch your revulsion and nausea, and focus on the speedster, who's rushing at you again. This time, a kick to the stomach knocks you off your feet. He spins around and comes to a momentary halt, while your dismay at the situation turns to anger- he's running circles around you, and there doesn't seem to be much you can do about it. He's too fast to evade, too agile to hit. Then suddenly he shudders, and stiffens where he's standing. He seems to be trying to move, but can't. <><><><><> -- Chris tries to remember her self defense classes, but they didn't cover anything like this. He isn't really hurting her, not so she can notice, but he's keeping her from doing what she (doesn't want to/would love a reason not to/wishes she could avoid) has to do, getting inside. And then he stops. Stops right in front of her. What's happening? A trick? Or... the kid inside was supposed to be another Puppet Master, maybe he was doing this somehow. Giving her a chance to get past, get inside. A chance to kill... She tries to keep that idea from her head, tries to keep her hands down, tries to ignore her "orders" and rush on by, inside the arcade. <><><><><> [GM] You move towards the arcade.... and stop. You can't even describe the feeling. It's not as if a string was suddenly pulled, taking over your body. Nothing that overt (though you wish it was.) It's not like warring factions in your mind- what YOU want with what HE wants. Deep down, you DON'T want to do this. You wish you could refrain. But there's a compulsion, or an urge...the need to satisfy your master's demands. He wants you to do as Robert told you, to kill the government metahuman. So you want to kill the government metahuman. You don't really WANT to....but the volitional part of your brain is telling your body that you do... You have enough self-will to cry, mentally, as you send a burst of laser light into the speedster's chest. And, if you really thought about it, you'd realize that you aren't really putting everything you've got into it. You're not pumping every bit of power into the blast, like you did when facing Lucretia. But it's enough to burn a smoking hole in his chest. He falls to his knees with an agonized cry, then topples face forward. And now you're free to proceed into the arcade. <><><><><> -- Even as she hurries into the building, the image of the government agent is frozen in her mind. Screaming. Falling. Dying? Probably... She couldn't resist the order to kill, she couldn't just go on and obey the more harmless orders. She had used her powers to kill, in cold blood. Even if she does get free from the Puppet Master, her life was over, totally destroyed. She had committed murder, a government agent was dead because of her... Her body continues to move on mechanically, obeying orders while her own will, her own personality, is lost in grief and rage. When she steps inside, she looks to one of the uzi-carrying kids. "Where is he?" <><><><><> [GM] The kid freaks, and fires a single burst at you- "BRAAP!" Tiny fists moving at several hundred miles an hour slam into you, knocking you back several steps before you brace against the impact. The front of your costume is shredded, but around you, video games shatter and explode as the bullets ricochet off you. The kid winces, then suddenly jerks upright, flings the uzi to the ground, then staggers, and blinks again, confused. "Where is WHO?" someone snaps, from farther back in the electronic cavern- as a fist closes on your mind. Not a wholly unfamiliar feeling, yet it's different in quality from the Puppet Master. The Puppet Master's control is subtle, silently invasive, almost unnoticed until you actually trigger one of his imbedded commands. This is a mental assault with all the subtlety of a kick in the gut...and about as pleasant. Your body stops responding to your commands, and you stand paralyzed, exposed to both gun-wielding kids in the arcade, and gun-wielding agents outside. (Another impact hits you from behind- a dart, probably- but you find it quite easy to ignore.) "Hot damn," someone mutters. "A super-chick, like some kinda crystal statue." "Who the hell are you?" the first voice demands, the voice of a boy in his early adolescence, which some instinct tells you is the same person who holds your voluntary motor control in an unbreakable deathgrip. But, you notice, your mouth and throat has been left under your control. <><><><><> -- "I'm Crystal. Don't you watch television? I'm here looking for you." That was honest enough. And while the child had left her voice untouched, she feels as she tries to warn him that the Puppet Master hadn't... "I... I'm here to keep the government agents away from you." She can't say she's here to sell him out to a greater threat, probably to kill him just as surely as she had the agent outside, even if not with her own hands. Her suppressed sell wails within her head, chained and unable to act... <><><><><> [GM] "She's that chick in New York, the one who blew up the other chick!" one of the kids says. "She's like a model or something," another adds. "Hey, you got yourself a super-babe coming to your rescue, Chad!" "Great, cover our escape," says a younger boy whom you still can't see. "Zap them all or something while we go out the back, then follow us." His words throb in your mind as well as in your ears, reinforced by his telepathic control. <><><><><> -- "I'd rather come with you right now," Crystal says, fighting the mental command long enough to speak. "You'll be safer..." But his order is clear, and even though she hasn't seen him yet (she could light the room, make it possible, but that would also make them all targets for the men outside) she does want to help him. Really help him, more than just what the two mental commands tell her to do. For all the abuses this boy could use his powers for, he couldn't match the Puppet Master and if she can keep him from becoming that... Or if he could somehow free her from... She can't even afford to think about that. Not now. She turns and reaches for the light inside her, feeling it build before focusing it toward her outstretched hands, then releasing a blinding arc out the front of the building, the best cover she can provide... <><><><><> [GM] Your light causes the agents to duck or shield their eyes, a few of them wincing. More darts skitter off your diamond-hard surface. Your costume is taking a real beating...not like in comic books, where heroes and heroines get shot up and somehow maintain a certain minimal standard of decency. You're baring more glass than you'd like already...when you change back to flesh and blood, you'll be hanging out all over the place. Robert, oddly enough, is nowhere to be seen. Then that iron grip on your mind flexes again. You're withdrawing into the arcade, following the retreating kids, without even knowing that's what you want to do. The boy is simply moving your body like a puppet, even more blatantly than the Puppet Master. In the alley out back, they're piling into a car, while firing at agents who have this side of the building covered too. You get your first look at the metahuman preteen, a rather average looking boy with black hair and a sharp, unpleasant expression. He spares a few seconds to look you over, then says "We gotta get down the street. You laser 'em while we try to break for it." He slides into the back seat, and compels you to slide in next to him, using you for cover. Other kids, most of them a few years older than him, are exchanging fire with the feds. It seems this side of the building is rather thinly covered, though. <><><><><> -- "I'd be able to do better if you'd let me use my powers myself. I know a little more about how they work." Crystal sits beside the boy, realizing now that there was little difference between him and the Puppet Master except age. They both used people as toys, both knew nothing but what *they* wanted and cared nothing for what it cost to get it. He wasn't going to help her... And she feels the blazing energies building inside her at his command, sharp to kill again, and she fights that with all she is able, to use less of the power, to aim high or wide, to simply give them cover rather than attacking the agents who are, she understands now, certainly in the right here. <><><><><> [GM] The control on your mind, as usual, leaves *some* leeway for interpretation...so long as you're accomplishing the stated command, to clear a path out- if diffusing your beam at a wider angle will be more effective, you don't feel compelled to use a more lethal, narrow beam just because you can. Dark-suited agents duck as your light bursts scorch overhead, a couple howl as a laser flashes across their face...you may not have killed them, but permanent blindness is a possibility. The trigger-happy kids in the car fire bursts from their Ingrams and Uzis, though one slumps and hits the floor as a dart catches him in the throat. You hear a couple of sharp cracks, rifle fire, and see at least one agent topple to the ground, spattering blood. But the shots didn't come from the car. A police cruiser that's pulling in to block your escape at the corner hastily lurches into reverse when you melt the hood with a searing laser bolt. The cops are already spilling out of the car and taking up defensive positions behind the doors, and unlike the federal agents, they're using regular pistols. One bullet smacks your face and bounces off, shattering the windshield of your car and provoking a startled cry from the driver, nervous looks from Chad and the other kids as the consequences of ricochets off your diamond-hard skin sinks home. The impact startled you, but didn't seem to really hurt, and the cops hit the ground and roll as a burst of automatic weapons fire answers their service revolvers. "Zorch the gas tank!" Chad says eagerly. "Make their car blow up!" You also note that even with the surprise value of your powers, and the over-armed teens piled into this car, you are, or were, thoroughly surrounded, and shouldn't have been able to break out this easily. <><><><><> -- "I don't kill people." Crystal repeats the refrain, as if to focus her thoughts and provide herself the extra edge she needs to fire her first blast well high of the mark, a warning if the police abandoning the car are smart, before doing as she was told. It would be harder than it looked in the movies. She remembers and effects man complaining about that during the work on her one foray into action movies. It took a lot of energy to ignite a gas tank and explode a car. But she had a lot of energy. She tries not to think about the cracks the bullet might have left on her face or about how they would look when she... No. She can't think about that. She lets loose the light from inside her again, this time aiming closer, to obey orders... <><><><><> [GM] The first blast, slicing through the cruiser's roof, makes the cops duck. Chad frowns, and jerks your aim lower...which actually gives the men more time. Chad can't aim your arm by "remote" very well, and just makes your beam slice downward, melting the front window and part of the door. "Shoot the *gas tank*!" he demands insistently, adding telepathic force to the command, but letting you carry it out yourself this time. You release a surge of energy, noting that if he keeps forcing you to expend your power at this rate, at least you'll run out soon. You burn a neat hole through the body of the police car, above where the gas tank should be, hold the beam there for an instant- *KRUMP!* The explosion isn't as loud or fiery as Chad was probably hoping for. Cars don't go up in spectacular flaming displays without the help of explosives, and the police car simply bounces a foot off the ground as its fuel tank bursts apart, sending a concussive blast through the rest of the vehicle that bursts the windows outwards, buckles the doors and roof and hood, and sets the entire car on fire. You see the cops scrambling away, though you can't tell if they were injured, then you're zooming past, bullets and darts still whizzing past you. The boys all cheer exuberantly. Chad smirks. "YEAH! We did it!" As you hurtle through an intersection, you see another police car rushing at you from down a cross-street. Chad stares at it, and abruptly it swerves to the side, wheels spinning, to slam into a car in the next lane, and drive both up onto the sidewalk. Chad laughs. One kid, a grungy white teenager with the scraggly beginnings of a beard, says "Dude, we better get into hiding or something...I mean, we can't fight off the whole St. Louis police department!" "Can't we?" Chad asks. He smiles at you. "Kyle's right, man" says a chunky black kid, wearing a blue beret. "'Sides, I think some of those guys weren't cops." Chad frowns. He looks at you more closely, speculatively. Which unnerves you almost as much as the way some of the older boys are eying you, clearly speculating along different lines. Chad ignores them, and says "Who were they, glass lady? For that matter, who are you?"