Log:Mage's First Patrol

Guilt Complex 2013/07/17 	 Obsidian Butterfly Mage Porter Fox

1

Bridgend

''Bridgend is an upmarket coastal stretch, between the port to the north and the yacht club to the south, where several main roads meet: Golden Sands Road from the southwest, Ming Street from Chinatown, Bridge Road from Sandy Bottoms Island, and Wharf Street, running roughly parallel to the shore. Some more prominent businesses have warehouses here, but expensive houses and nice cafes, restaurants and shops are more common. The spectacular arch of the bridge to the island guarantees these businesses always have a good tourist trade. ''

The doors of the gym open to admit Regan onto the sidewalk only she is differently attired in a severe looking black dress over a body suit of a similar mat ebon.

Obsidian Butterfly 

''The young woman before you is of moderate height, about mid-way between five and six feet tall. Her movements carry the easy, fluid assurance of a natural athlete, an impression that is reinforced by her powerfully compact frame and the quiet poise with which she carries herself. Lustrous black hair curls softly to bounce against her cheeks, it's color so dark it gleams a soft royal blue. Her skin is the colour of mist-veiled moonlight, pale and ethereal over a round, intelligent face still flush with the strength and promise of youth. High, full cheeks and soft, expressive lips hint at both the dazzling intensity of her smile and the dangerous thunderclap of her temper, hovering for the moment somewhere in between. Above a fine, slightly upturned nose slate-grey eyes glitter mildly as they take in her surroundings. ''

''An immaculately tailored dress of jet black silk snugly sheaths the compact athleticism of her form. The material is tightly woven but supple, fluid, and faintly gleaming. The play of light across the fabric reveals a subtle but intricate embroidery of elaborate loops and whorls, the delicate stitching done in a matt black thread that contrasts with the lustre of the silk only when light hits it at just the right angle. A conservative mandarin collar gives way to loose sleeves that stop at mid-forearm, the skin of her wrists and hands hidden from view by a thin layer of lightweight onyx fabric that may form some sort of body-suit. The slenderness of her waist is emphasized by a knotted sash of raw satin resting atop her hips, the dress's skirt flowing smoothly over her hips and thighs to stop just above her knees. Discrete pleats at front and back allow the young woman a full range of movement, her bearing one of quiet poise and assurance. From beneath the hem of her dress, the onyx bodysuit reappears briefly before vanishing into a pair of low-heeled leather boots that rise to mid-calf. ''

''After a moment's further inspection the abstract curves of the embroidery coalesce into a recognizable image of a large butterfly, its wings seeming to ripple and shimmer as she moves. ''

Liam smiles when he takes in Obsidian Butterfly's look. As a matter of fact, he takes a goodly amount of time inspecting her. Finally, he strides over and says. "This is your Obsidian Butterfly costume I take it? I approve. Anything added, even a mask, would subtract from the look rather than add."

Porter continues to contribute to the earth's rotation (coffee makes the world go round, after all). He exits the coffee shop with a half-full and/or half-empty paper cup. A smattering of crumbs on his shirt hint at the fate of yet another defenseless muffin.

Good evening Doctor Reynard, I'm very glad you approve, I used to wear a mask but when I was arrested by the UEMS and my record made public I thought that it was really rather spurious. That was when I changed costume and name. I used to go by the cognomen Sable." Obsidian smiles. "Obsidian Butterfly doesn't really roll off the tongue anywhere near as nicely and I get mocked for it but my girlfriend likes it and I can't really come up with another name that really means anything."

Porter spots the Obsidian Butterfly who he's never called such, as well as the good doctor. He waves with his empty hand and takes a sip as he turns to approach Regan. A brow quirks en route, but he waits until he's closer to ask, "Patrol?"

Obsidian smiles and nods to Porter. "Indeed, of course I have to do my circuits on foot but the exercise is undoubtedly good for me." Her smile brightens. "It will help me burn off that cake from yesterday at the very least."

Liam nods back to Porter's wave, sips his Turkish coffee and continues in his uniquely upper-crust Boston accent, "Few terms combine hardness with delicateness, so I see the attraction. 'Grace' is another, and roles off the toungue, but I fear the significance of the nom de guerre would be lost on the masses."

Obsidian's shoulders lift in a small shrug. "I have recently considered Swift, which aptly describes how I move and fight, and might also be applied to the justice I administer. But my feeling is changing my name again will just seem shallow and fickle. It hardly affects who I am or what I do."

"What's wrong with Regan? I like it," Porter seems to agree with her last point. He also points to her dress as he makes a point of his own, "And with all that swiftness, I don't think you have to worry about burning off anything."

Liam lowers his cup from his lips, looks Obsidian Butterfly in the eyes and says in a very serious voice, "Don't change it. For me. I like calling you Butterfly." ... with only the faintest twinkle in his eye at the thought of Butterfly making any decisions based on his opinion.

Regan smiles. "Well Chandrika likes it too, and my new costume, so your interests and hers coincide." Her brows lift. "Should we perhaps patrol as a group rather than individuals?"

Dr. Reynard says, "What, exactly, do you look for when you 'patrol'?"

Porter chuckles and gestures to her with his cup this time, and gives an answer on her behalf, "Criminals that need an intervention. She's really good at getting them to think about a career change."

Police radio calls by definition occur after a crime has started, giving criminals a lag in response time before police or meta-humans are on-scene. Patrolling gives us an opportunity to catch criminal acts just as they are begun." Butterfly explains. "Or at least a lot more quickly than if we just sit and wait for police to call the crime in. It gives criminals less of a window in which to perform their outrages."

Dr. Reynard says, "And do criminals in visible need of intervention often present themselves? I would imagine that anyone seeing you approach would desist any criminal activity ... unless their goal was sexual harassment."

"Anyone seeing me approach would of course desist." Her lips curl into a soft smile. "The logical extension of that premise is..." Her brows lift expectantly.

Dr. Reynard says, "That quite a few crimes occur after you have safely passed." Liam smiles as if he knew the expected answer and is just being difficult.

"They could probably start up again," Porter admits, "after they got out of jail or the hospital... or both." As someone whose patrol experience is slightly nonexistent, he can't offer much more than that.

Regan smiles and inclines her head. "It is doubtless as you say Doctor Reynard, my efforts are futile and my skills non-existant, but I persist regardless." Her smile brightens. "It's either that or sort through my wardrobe. I hope you both have a wonderful evening." Stepping to one side she springs in a smooth ballistic arc to the roof of the gym and out of view.

Liam grins at Obsidian Butterfly's sudden departure, and begins to chant words of arcane power, his fingers flying in complex patterns as his clothing changes to something 'more garish' to quote his earlier phrase.

Mage

''While some might argue that the quiet air that surrounds this man is arrogance (and some would argue that it is confidence), he makes no attempt to hide what he feels with false modesty. He may be a good man, but he is a man used to being in command of his life. ''

''Objectively, he is handsome enough: a hair over six feet tall with a thin "runner's build", black hair with a gray streak over each temple and a neatly trimmed black goatee. He is dressed in a black Quinntex bodysuit with a thigh-length blousy blue shirt over it. A gold sash cinches the loose shirt to his waist. Overall, a bright red cloak with a wide gold trim moves about with a life of its own and is held at his throat with a circular gold broach in the shape of a closed eye.''

Porter's neck cranes as his head tries to follow Obsidian Butterfly's up, up, and away. "Ok... Maybe it's good I didn't sign up to go. I don't think I could keep up with that..." He just suggested that she didn't need to change her name, he never said that Swift wasn't an appropriate choice.

Mage asks Porter, after his clothing changes, but before casting further spells. "Are there many that can keep up with her?" He doesn't seem concerned that he might or might not be one of them.

Porter looks back down, and blinks as he missed the presto change-o. After the blinking, he smirks and shakes his head. "Probably not."

Mage Nods and says, "All the better." He casts a second spell, one without visible effects, but with different words and gestures.

Mage smiles and casts his third spell. This one takes longer to cast.

Chinatown

''This district is home to Colonial Bay's large Chinese community; as much Chinese as English is seen on signs and perhaps more Mandarin is spoken. Most famous is Ming Street, curving round from Beach Street to Wharf Street, always full of tourists, especially at its northern and western end. This is practically a street market, with hawkers extolling their wares to passers-by, and signs and banners advertizing everything from fresh duck to herbal supplies, restaurants and bakeries and other businesses. The Heavenly Dragon Palace and the Buddhist temple are among the more famous sights. But perhaps true Chinatown is south and west of Ming Street, where the tourists rarely go.''

A circular gate appears next to Butterfly, and Liam - dressed quite a bit more garishly - steps through the glowing window, followed closely by Porter.

Dr. Reynard says, "I didn't say I did not wish to join you."

Obsidian pulls up short as the rift in space-time opens and figures step into view. Her sombre gaze assesses the sartorially resplendent Mage. "You have a costume of your own I see."

Porter walks out of the anomaly looking around as if inspecting it. One anomaly to another. He waves to Obsidian a little sheepishly. "Didn't now you were taking off that quick, and I'm not exactly a tall buildings in a single bound kind of guy."

Mage nods, "The gate is still open if you would like one or both of us to depart. I can keep up, but repeated gates can be quite fatiguing. As for the costume, despite the faintly garish primary on black color scheme, it is comfortable and quite utilitarian. ... and, I like to think, a trifle intimidating to the small-minded."

The rift in space-location attracts the attention of Fox, who investigates the rift in the fastest manner she has available, which is running rapidly and leaping between rooftops. She is presently seven feet tall and fully fuzzy, less adorable than intimidating, what with the sharp, sharp teeth and sharp, sharp talon-looking things. Once near enough to it for a good examination, she changes in appearance to look much like she does in polite company, her regular small sized self.

Obsidian nods. "I am not about to suggest that you are not welcome in my presence, despite your skepticism I am quite capable of taking criminals by surprise because I am stealthy, I used to kill for a living and I was very good at it." Her head swivels at the approaching monstrous figure, her feet shifting, only for her posture to relax as the approaching Lycanthrope transforms again into Fox. "Hello Fox."

"I'd like to go with you... I know I can use the practice," Porter is hesitant enough that there's definitely a 'but' coming, "but I don't want to hold up or screw things up doing it..." She's the expert, so he leaves it to her. Meanwhile, he turns to give Fox a smile and small wave.

Mage does his best to look as relaxed as the others by Fox's sudden appearance and, with a wave of his hand, closes the gate back to Steel's Gym several blocks away. "I, unfortunately, particularly dressed as I am, am not stealthy. Perhaps my pursuit was ill-considered if I am to be a burden."

Obsidian raises a hand to Porter. "I invited you to come, you can come, there is no particular advantage to speed when patrolling as you're relying on random chance to encounter villains, that chance is pretty much uniform so you don't gain much by racing around the city at high speed. Also, I rely on stealth, that necessarily involves not moving at full speed though I do do o to get away from the gym and to the outskirts before circling in.

Fox looks almost disappointed when the gate is eliminated. She does not voice complaint though, having all the look of a child who has just missed a favored television special. Her attention shifts to the persons present, of which she immediately recognizes one, and it is Porter's side she moves to.

Porter is dressed neither garishly nor stealthily. He's dressed the usual. Porterishly? "Ok. As long as there aren't too many ninja building jumps, I think I'll be Ok." He looks to Fox when she comes close. "Hey. Loos like you're doing the rooftop hop, too?" Like with himself, he leaves the doctor's participation up to the expert.

It isn't long before Fox is recognizing the Regan's face in the black outfit, though it is a little longer before the recognition of Liam sets in. The small fox-girl seems amused in a non-mocking way. "Not..recog...nize." she murmurs.

"So what we're going to do is move slowly in a sort of diamond formation, I will take lead, Porter left, Doctor Reynard right and Fox rear. you are resonsible for checking out the side of the group in your quadrant, but every so often you should randomly decide to look behind you for a bit. Keep the others in your peripheral vision and if you see soming just stop and clap your hand against your thigh once. Are those instructions clear?"

Mage nods and floats off the ground. "I'll try not to slow you down."

Porter looks back to Obsidian and pauses to mentally scroll back to what she said, attempt a copy/paste to a more permanent mental note, then tries to read it back. Unfortunately, the handwriting is terrible, so he hits the major points. "Walk, look, spot, clap." He nods. "I got it." Porter even remembered which relative direction she mentioned, and knows which that is. He moves over to his left.

Obsidian looks to Fox. 'This is Doctor Reynard, you met him yesterday in Past Times Coffee shop, he's just in his magely attire."

The silver fox-girl nods. "Yes," she responds in agreement, about the Reynard one. She seems to understands the instructions. "Searching?" she ends up deciding might be the motivation.

Obsidian nods. "We are patrolling, yes, searching for crimes that are in progress, about to begin, or just entered the getaway phase. We move as a group, slowly to start but we will get faster as we become more familiar." FOr those of you who fly, the higher you fly the further away you are visible, staying low and quiet gives us the best opportunity of catching our prey unaware."

Mage lands again and catches his breath. As he looks back and forth between the trio assembled around him, it only now hits him how incredibly fit they all are. Even the little fox girl could possibly bound between rooftops all night. A growing dread starts to settle in his gut.

"No worry about me flying..." Porter lets everyone know. After a moment, he thinks it's a good idea to add, "If you do see me flying, feel free to try and stop me. I'd appreciate it."

Fox nods. "Okay," she replies cautiously. She does not change immediately to her more mobile and scary form, her inexperience given away fairly early on with her awkwardness in posture,

"Ok, lets move out." She picks a direction, apparently at randome and moves off at a reasonably sedate pace if you're a top level marathon runner, perhaps a bit challenging if you're not. Obsidian smoothly leaps across a narrow alley, making room on the far side before watching if the others can handle the jump.

Mage waits a bit at the first jump. He's already demonstrated he can fly and at least one person has already stated they cannot. Better to wait to see if anyone needs catching.

Fox already makes a mistake, not staying in the rear position. She leaps over the narrow gap with ease while Mage hesitates.

Porter has the pace of a top level videogamer. Since there's no buttons, fridge, or pizza involved, that makes his hustle somewhere well below the speed of smell. He also stops short of the first jump. "Ok, you can do this." Now that athleticism comes into play, and his fingers tap out a quick triplet on a box at his belt. Porter dematerializes, then rematerializes on the other rooftop.

Mage floats across the gap and takes his place now that he is assured everyone can keep up without problems. He gives Obsidian Butterfly a confident nod. "Shall we?"

Obsidian watches with a neutral expression as three of the most powerful people in the city negotiate a six metre jump. Turning back to lead the way she leaves the other three to sort themselves out as she leads them on a long circuit, mostly navigating by foot.

Fox diligently accompanies the Obsidian Butterfly on the trek through the city! She might not be very experienced with team patrols, or patrols of any kind, but she can periodically change shape if needed to keep up.

It looks like Porter will be the one burning off all the calories. Though he does walk often, that's at a slower, more comfortable pace. This probably isn't either of those, but he'll do his best to try.

Obsidian leads the patrol at a sedate, some would say leisurely, others would say snail-paced meander through the city toward the Student Quarter.