"Yeha, just some basic stuff will do..... And some whiskey would be nice. And I don't know what you mean by powers, I mean, I think I saw one of them shapeshift before, and I punched something so hard it created a void in reality itself, but aside from that.... they just seemed like normal people. Here you go, by the way. Knock yourself out." Janet passes the keyring thingy to Jacklyn, taking another swig of whiskey.
"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone has two powers. One's just something they're really good at. As in like, really good at. But using it, it can make you feel a bit hungover. Can get pretty bad if you overuse it though, once when I using it, I felt like I was gonna pass out halfway through an operation. The other, that's magic I guess. That'd be the shapeshifting and punching. It's unstable, there's always the chance you'll lose control, so best to keep that in mind. Thing is, it's also how you get a ballpark estimate of how trustworthy(?) people are.
Sort of, there are Nightmares that can copy us, they can look like a normal people, even have the same powers, so the only real well to eyeball it is based on their magic. You can't really confirm if they are, but you can at least figure out the people who aren't, or aren't likely to be. See, shapeshifting and summoning weapons, those are a bit trickier to do. But still well within what's possible. So I guess, me and that other person have, I'd say about fifty-fifty chance of being a monster disguised as a person. You, if you are telling the truth, are definitely safe. Punching holes in reality and that sort of thing is beyond their reach. The other way to tell is what happens when they're using a lot of it, or lose control. Nightmares don't lose control, and they don't have that much power normally. Still, not the best well to test someone, since trying something like that'll definitely attract attention. And you know, the whole losing control thing's pretty bad too."
She takes a sip of water as she examines your keyring.
"Don't recognize it, sorry. It's a key, but I've never heard of that hotel. Might be a safehouse, we own a few, you know so that when someone winds up here, they at least have somewhere safe to sleep? You can tell if there's a bunch of notes and just this big ominous clock face. Like I said, there's this weird Cinderella motif, but yeah, don't stay around til it hits twelve, they aren't as safe as they used to be I'm afraid."
She reaches into her coat and takes out a small case, before taking out a roll of gauze and four empty vials.
"Painkillers, really strong, but they don't numb other sensations. When holding it, you should hear some music, focus on it to put it into your mind, then again to use. A bit hard to get used to I know, but at least it isn't easy to misplace stuff that's kept in your head. Oh and, don't use them if they you don't need to, you can survive and quickly recover from a surprising lot here."
Another sip of water.
"So, any preferences for the whiskey? Like flavor?"
I Look for everyone else.
IDN: 1, 3, 3
HNG:
IMP: 3
STR: 2, 2
By some reasoning only comprehensible to what you had become, you deduce the position of every other PC and the path that will lead you to them.
[[You can regain one Stability Point if you wish. Not sure why I'm even asking, not really sure why anyone would ever refuse to.]]((randomly))
Stumbling randomly around the markets, you find yourself walking along a mountain path in the middle of a factory. The gears are smaller here, but also more densely packed, forming intricate clockwork mechanisms beneath the membrane of tea you find yourself treading upon. Enormous mechanisms and factory presses from each and every era work in perfect tandem here, refining ineffable raw materials into seemingly random organs and bodyparts that are inexplicably alive for the few moments before they are unceremoniously ground up and fed back in. The machines themselves are the stalls, numerous stalls coexisting in the same location. The movement of the mechanical arm to your left sells soft drinks. Its paint scheme is a clothing store. The air around it sells improvised weapons. The grindstone to your right sells vorpal bread from what it is, and spray cans from what it is not.
The rotating mass of quartz in front of you? The one that periodically cracks and heals, erupting in great gouts of thorned vines which terminate bloom with with flowers of rusty razors? It sells death, and it just so happens that your death is one sale right now. And it just can't wait to share the savings with you.
[[Stress: 4 = 4]]
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Topic: Overhang - Sorry (Read 30305 times)