"if you'd like to tell at the PRT because of my behaviour, say the reaper was bothering you . Can you give me a hair or eye color? Race?"
They can pretty safely say that the guy in question was white, and the rest was kind of hard to see on account of the disguise, which seemed to be a combination of sunglasses, face rag, jacket and hat. It was a pretty conspicuous disguise, though, for what it's worth.
"Fucking Eddites. I bet those vans are packed full of Ilo's tech. That's probably what's doing this." Jason remarks before subtly activating his power. If it doesn't seem to stop the effect, he'll move away from the van to see if there is a limit to the range of the effect. He'll deactivate his power after crossing the street if he needs to, or immediately if he can just back up down the sidewalk.
You activate your power as you speak, but it doesn't seem to help matters any. Things still look unusually large for some reason, and you suspect you know why. Time to test this hypothesis, as it were. You cross the street, making sure to keep your power active during the process like any responsible citizen would, then take off at a sprint in a specific direction, finding that things do start to appear less huge as you distance yourself from the stadium. A warm feeling of peace creeps into your mind as you start to celebrate this fact.
Kyle ignores it. Stupid bed... stupid dreams/hallucinations. Stupid planet.
Screw this, you're sleeping. You're sleeping, yes!
That painful itching in your back and the bump that appears to be forming there can go fuck itself. You're sleeping.
Go away, gnawing rodents at your feet. You're sleeping.
The screaming coming from the walls can go on forever for all you care, because you're sleeping! Look at how hard you're sleeping!
In fact, you're sleeping so hard, you wish you could scream this fact at the nameless horror from the far beyond hovering uncomfortably closely above you, so that it would perhaps consider that there are people sleeping here!
As your mother (which you didn't actually know you had until now, and who you now know to be a faceless entity with more mouths than you can shake a stick at, though you're not positive how you know this) starts poking you in the back with a large, cold knife, you wish you could tell her that you're sleeping. But you can't, because then you wouldn't be sleeping, would you?
That's right. You would have been wide awake. Because you can't talk if you're asleep. Yeah.
It's five AM. You are
so very well rested, it's not even funny. Your spine itches. You can hear a low hiss and smell thiols in the air.
Sink or Swim time thinks Steven before fearlessly charging ahead and using the warping effect to skulk past the cops guarding the stadium entrance.
Considering how very distracted those police are, you find it elementary to prance right into the stadium, your shrinking form no doubt helping you avoid detection. Stealthily rolling through the entrance, you find yourself on the inside, and realize there are a few places where you could go from here. Most tempting is the field, because you've never been on that before, and your idle fantasies of being a superstar athlete could use some dream fuel. Or maybe you could take a seat in the bleachers and cheer at whatever happens next.
Or maybe, just maybe, you could gain access to the commentator booth and mess around with the equipment there.
Failing that, maybe raid the bathrooms for soap and toilet paper or sneak into the management offices and steal their stationery. Or do something else entirely. A whole world has opened itself to you here! Seize the day and all that.
Selina is trying to keep a neutral/interested face as they walk. Were they talking about drugs? Modified marijuana? Some other addictive substance that would alter her state of mind? What had she gotten herself into?
Regardless, Selina keeps walking. She could refuse anything if they were drugs right? Maybe get the place closed down if she told the police later... The way Lynn was talking though, it sounded like whatever was about to happen was going to be quite the opposite of safe.
Rita and Lynn continue to chat as you walk on, but they quickly veer into talking about nothing at all, mostly about people you don't know about things you can't quite decipher on the spot. This goes on for about half an hour before the three of you reach a rather stately house in an upscale part of the suburbs - three stories, a very tasteless eclectic look to the facade, and a half-naked man lounging out in front. You're not sure if he's drunk, asleep, high or some mixture of all three. The way your group just pass him by indicate that this is probably nothing unusual around here.
Oddly enough, you don't go to the front door. Rather, you approach the outer door to the basement, which has a staircase leading down to it and everything. Lynn knocks on the door, and it takes several minutes and several more knocks before someone opens up. It's a kid, probably younger than you, who nevertheless has a rather massive beard, which is dyed bright red for some reason. His head is shaved and his eyes are wide. He looks at Lynn and Rita, then at you. Lynn nods at him, Rita shows him a gesture that involves lifting her hand up to eye level and holding her palm horizontally forward, shaking it a little. The guy mouths and "oh" and shows the three of you in.
The room you enter looks like it was repurposed into a waiting room, with a lot of benches lining the walls. There's a coffee table with a bunch of almost-empty shot glasses on it accompanied by a three-quarters empty unlabeled bottle. The guy kneels in front of the table on a conveniently dropped cushion and fills four of the glasses. Lynn and Rita kneel down nearby, each taking one. Lynn empties hers immediately, as does the guy, but Rita looks at you first.
"You're going to want to drink this," she says, passing the last filled shot glass to you. You are uncomfortably aware of the guy staring at you with unblinking eyes, a subtle burp escaping his lips. "It helps a lot, trust me."
You look at the glass after you accidentally touch a slightly sticky part of it. Looks like a fingerprint of some kind. The liquid inside smells rather strong, and definitely highly alcoholic.
"It's just Hadrian's booze, nothing too terrible," Rita feels the need to add after sensing slight trepidation on your part.
"Tastes better than it used to," Lynn says, causing the guy, who you assume is Hadrian, to smile, his eyes half-closed. "I think he added some flavoring."
Carrie grins... Ow... she hadn't done that in a while, but the show was starting, so she ignored it. She addresses Jason, watching Steven with her power, "Seriously though, they announced this event weeks ago. They probably have contingency plans to deal with anything except an Endbringer." well, that's what Carrie would have if she was the one organizing this. "And there are two more of the leaders elsewhere in the city. This may be the big event, but if they are just sitting idly by, then they are wasting their talents. You should probably think about a different angle if you are going after the bosses."
The schmuck has made it into the stadium while the mook has run off. It's still really fun to watch things enlarge, then become small again. You start working up a rhythm, even. Maybe you could set some music to this.
You also start to feel something else as soon as the other guy leaves - concurrently with the other vans getting closer, you start to get a floating feeling, and have some trouble staying on your feet, to say nothing of the way your vision in realtime seems to be having a bit of trouble staying in one place.
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Topic: Worm: Edwardstown (Read 136408 times)