Log:Defender Force, Scene 1

Defender Force 2013/12/18 	 Mage Forge Pendragon Ebon Star Harlequin Toby

1

Champions Mush - Wednesday, December 18, 2013, 10:03 PM

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. ''

Mage opens a gateway in the side of the coffee shop. Within the portal an evening sky can be seen and (of course) Liam dressed in his cape and magic 'work clothes'.

Just on his way past the coffee shop, Malcolm pauses when spacetime is magically rent asunder practically beside him. The tall man blinks once or twice as he eyeballs first the portal and then the person on the other side. "Something on your mind, Doc?"

Mage steps out of the glowing portal. "Yes," he replies, "I am looking for a select few heroes."

"Which "select few heroes"? Maybe I can help you find 'em," intones Malcolm as he watches Mage emerge from the portal. The tall man absently rubs the back of his head thoughtfully, considering the implications of Mage's words.

Bicycling is the most popular method of getting around for Bethany. Hey, it helps keep her in shape of course. Plus, she likes the freedom of it. She's no trick rider. She just likes her mountain bike. So it is that she's headed down the shoulder of Bridgend, pedaling lazily.

Mage starts to rattle off a list but visibly stops himself, takes a breath, then says, "Perhaps it would be better if I explained. I was recently looking through some files at the library trying to gain a cursory understanding of the 'hero culture' if there is such a thing and came across a small article about an extradimensional teleporter who traveled to Colonial Bay seeking aide."

"Uh... Huh. Pretty sure there's been a bunch of those, what with all of the multiverse incursions around town," comments Malcolm. He shoves his hands into his pockets and regards Mage for a few moments, only dimly aware of the bicyclist rolling along in the near distance. "What I'm saying is you might need to give me more details. A name or what kind of aide he was looking for?"

Well, a portal in the open. That draws the eyes. Bethany recalls the man who stepped out of it too. He's no Merlin but... the man at least seems to know a few things about magic. She slows to a stop, dropping one foot down to brace her cycle with said foot on the curb while just staring openly. Doubtful she's the only one staring.

Mage says, "The details of the young fae's plight are immaterial: I am certain he resolved whatever issue he had. But while reading the article, it occurred to me that, while I lacked the necessary endurance to consider myself a 'superhero' in my own right, I did have the necessary abilities to transport a small team to those places that were suffering from a lack of meta assistance. Colonial Bay is very much an exception to the rule. I am certain that in some places metas are so rare that someone could gain powers and go years without meeting an equally powerful person. In such a setting, 'absolute' power could corrupt."

"Oh," replies Malcolm, tone deceivingly neutral, "Him."

Malcolm rolls his shoulders a bit, now thoroughly unaware of Bethany's presence in the area. He keeps his hands in his pockets as he watches Mage for several quiet moments, considering the Sorcerous Surgeon's words intently. "Well sure. The Bay's got it pretty good, as far as meta-talent goes, but isn't this sort of thing directly in UEMS' purview? And, to lesser extent, Star Guard's?"

Well, how to insert one's self into such a conversation while maintaining one's cover? The classic dilema... well, except for those metahumans who don't bother hiding who they are. After all, some of them may not care about being able to live a normal life. But Bethany, with the King in her head most of the time, relishes her ability to step away from all that now and then.

"What fae?" she ends up calling out as she steps off her bike. She reaches for the backpack on her ... well.. back, and pulls out a couple old leatherbound books. She has a particular focus on European history, specialized in English.

Mage smiles to the fit young lady and replies, "He used a mon de guerre instead of his proper name, so his affected identity is immaterial." Turning back to Malcolm, he says, "The places I was thinking about visiting are a bit outside of their jurisdiction. That is why I feel I need to be selective in the metas closen, they will be a bit beyond oversight and will need a moral compass that will hold steady away from societal pressures. They need to exemplify might *for* right, instead of simply might is right."

The door of the cafe opens to admit a diminutive figure in a duffle coat wrapping a scarf around her lower face.

Mage closes the glowing portal with a wave of his hand.

"Drexler," replies Malcolm to Bethany, pretty much without thinking about it. The tall man looks over his shoulder at Bethany, offering a smile and a nod of his head before looking back at Mage. "I imagine that means I'd be right out. Star Guard lackey and all that," he remarks, smiling playfully.

Whereas Bethany is wearing a bomber jacket, but is otherwise not really bundled up against the cold. She's accustomed to a bit cooler climates it seems. Plus, she was out working out on her bike and wouldn't want to sweat to death. She inclines her head and opens one of her books. She flips to a few different pages and asks, "Did you get -any- information to indicate which, if any, of the whole fae ideal, this person was..." She smirks a bit and shakes her head, "Nobody is beyond oversight, or at least nobody -should- be." she says to Mage. Then to Malcolm she adds, "I think yes, Dexter was most likely a pseudonym. I'd love to know who it -really- was if possible."

Mage hmms, "Do you think there would be a moral conflict? You *are* one of the initial few I thought to start with."

Rose turns southward and rounds the corner, pulling up abruptly as she encounters the impromptu coteri clustered around the portal. Then understanding that it isn't an inter-dimensional invasion or massive meta-human combat she moves to walk past.

[To Malcolm] Mage says, "Do you know where I could find Fox, Ebon Star or Pendragon?"

"Fox pops up when you least expect her," comments Malcolm, rubbing his chin a little bit, "And I've seen Ebon Star in the area a few times. I think she's got a regular patrol that crosses through this part of Bridgend."

The tall man offers a polite smile and a nod to Rose as she tries to skirt around the group. He shoves his hands back into his pockets and shrugs at Mage, "I don't think it'd be a moral conflict. I'm just out trying to do the right thing, man, but other folks might not see it that way. Star Guard personnel in non-participating countries? You never know what some politico or guy with a grudge might perceive as an act of aggression."

"Okay then." remarks Bethany. She shrugs and shakes her head, closing her book as her inquiries are basically left in the dust. "Who, who, or who?" she asks, grinning apologetically. "Sorry, I spend most of my time researching the distant past, not watching anything from modern day, though..." She opens the other book and shows a page with a picture of the Pendragon banner, "I think you may be a few centuries late to meet one of -that- line." she adds.

The diminutive figure moves past at a brisk pace, indeed her posture might suggest the young lady is a little annoyed, but by whom or at what are beyond mortal ken and she is quickly lost to view turning another corner. Once out of sight the age old ritual of finding a safe place to change into costume begins. Of course in the middle of winter, abandoning coat, scarf and cap in favour of robe is not so enticing an option but change she does and is soon moving at relatively modest pace to fly back toward where Mage and friends are gathered from a direction that won't immediately suggest she just walked past.

Mage smiles slowly at Malcolm. His smile becomes a grin as he says, "You either think too small, my friend, or underestimate the extent of my abilities. When I said outside United Earth's jurisdiction, I meant non-participating planets."

So it is a few minutes later that a cloked figure drifts at modest speed through the wintry night, seeming to spot Mage and companions and change course in their direction. The figures arms are crossed across its chest, perhaps to present a forbidding attitude, or maybe just because it's really really cold.

Shrugging once more, Bethany turns as if to depart. No use if they're so focused on their conversations that they don't have time for one bystander trying to talk to them about historical information. "Personally, the legend of the Pendragon line seems to indicate that if there -were- any around, they might focus on threats to their home world and/or country. Just sayin'.." she offers as she heads back to her bike.

Mage nods to Bethany, "True, but my hope is that the modern version of that line is more open minded, since she has already demonstrated flexibility in her attachment to Britain by being here."

There is a moment where Malcolm is trying to process Mage's assertion and Bethany's conversational hook about Pendragon. It passes as Malcolm twists to regard Bethany, "Wait. Whoa. Are you two saying the modern heroine named Pendragon is somehow related to the King Arthur of legend? Is that seriously a thing?" He may be a little too distracted to notice Ebon Star's re-arrival - now with costume! - on the scene. Just give it a moment though.

Shaking her head, Bethany laughs, "Honestly, the odds of the line continuing after Arthur killed his own son?" she asks as she climbs aboard her bicycle. "Think about it." she adds as she puts the books away and starts to pull away from the curb.

Mage says, "The veracity of the history does not concern me so much as the woman I have already met. Regardless of dissertations otherwise, she exists."

Toby exits the coffee shop, stretching, and sighing. She looks worried more so than anything else. Carrying a coffee cup in tow, she looks about, as if she's looking for someone. She looks over to Mage and them, and soon after, finds herself heading that way, "Hey, did you guys see a girl run through here?"

"... I gotta watch more BBC, clearly I've been missing out on one hell of a soap opera out of the mists of myth and legend," remarks Malcolm. He looks vaguely baffled by, apparently, the twists and turns in Arthurian legend that he's never heard. And then Malcolm spots Toby approaching, "Hey! Long time, no see, Toby! How's it going?"

Pause.

"A girl run through? No. A few ladies did walk by though, but I'm pretty sure none of them were running."

"Lots of girls in this city." remarks Bethany as she starts to pedal, one foot slipping off as she catches sight of Toby. "Holy... well, if you were chasing me, I might run too." she mutters, shaking her head as she turns and accelerates that bicycle off.

Mage considers Toby, Toby's tail, Toby's fingers and Toby's skin tone, riffles though his knowledge of hundreds of magical creatures, before asking (in an upper crust Boston accent), "What are you?"

Ebon Star settles on the sideway, huddling into the lee of the building and the micro-warmth offered by a the other people. When the diestorted voice erupts from the darkened cowl it seems as though there's some sort of problem with the feed or her teeth might be chattering. "H-h-hi"

"I just kind of...exploded on someone that I shouldn't had. And I really need to see if the guys at Prometheus Labs can make me at look at least /sort of/ human without having...issues" Toby explains to the group. And as she's spoken to Toby looks ot Bethany, "I /want/ to fix this, I'm tired of looking like such a tiny...creature. I'm just not sure /how/ to do it yet."

Turning her attention to Mage, she shrugs a little, "Damn if I know. I'm some sort of weird alien-creature-thing that /used/ to be human. I may or may not be realizing how much I've lost in just...accepting what I am."

And lastly, to Malcom, "...Uh, not well. Not well."

Toby, overall, seems rather on edge, as if she's in some sort of rather awkward position. Likewise, she seems concerned and worried.

Mage considers Ebon Star's condition and says, "I believe you are done patrolling for the night." To Malcolm, he says, "Would you mind if we finished this conversation in the heat of my home?" To Toby, he says, "Be careful what you wish for. You might get it."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Toby," replies Malcolm. He glances at Mage, then over at Ebon Star, waving slightly. "If you want, we could talk 'bout it after I get done with this meeting, Toby?" Quietly, Malcolm asides to Mage, "Sounds like a plan."

Ebon Star stands shivering while the conversation goes on. "F-f-fine by me." The heavily distorted voice intones. The darkened cowl turns to regard Toby's impassioned declaration but offers neither comment nor response.

Toby looks to Mage, "...I want to /avoid/ loosing my powers while becoming more human." Toby offers a sigh, shaking her head.

"Maybe I could come with?" Toby offers, looking to Malcolm, smiling widely. "...I...don't think I want to be alone right now."

She's smiling, but still seems just as nervous as before.

"Up to the Doc, but I certainly don't have a problem with you joining us," replies Malcolm, casting an inquisitive glance toward Mage. The tall man smiles cheerily and then looks back at Toby, offering her a hand.

Mage shrugs and creates a portal.

Pied-a-Ciel

''This house is more than slightly odd in more ways than just its location. Furniture can be found on the (generally indistinguishable) floors, walls and ceilings, and people can walk on all these surfaces too, though often only in aisles between the bookshelves or other furnishings lying on the relative floors (+inspect gravity for more information). ''

''The rooms that doors open onto are not always adjacent, although which door leads where remains consistent and the doorways are always bidirectional. Nor do windows in the same wall necessarily look out in the same direction - indeed it's very uncommon: rather, each room gets some sunlight whatever the time of day. ''

''In addition to the floating grounds that the building rests upon, the house's more notable rooms are the entrance hall, the parlour, the libraries, the sanctum and the wonderfully relaxing meditation room. Other rooms exist (kitchen, guest_rooms, etc.), but are rarely seen by casual visitors. ''

Mage steps though the portal into Pied-a-Ciel's parlor

Parlour

''The fireplace affords the parlour a more definite sense of "up" than most of the house has, but the room is nevertheless laid out so that one can sit around the fire on any of several surfaces. Comfortable stuffed chairs and warmly burnished antique furniture give a comfortable, familiar feel to the room despite its oddity. ''

Toby takes Malcolm's hand, holding it tightly. She waits for him to move through the portal.

Once Toby's hand is gripping his own, Malcolm leads the way through the portal. He casts a thoughtful look around the parlor before quietly commenting, "Nice digs, Doc. They come with your librarian gig?"

Ebon Star steps through the portal though she remains huddled. The darkened cowl turns toward Toby, whose concessions to the weather don't even involve shoes.

Mage says, "The two are not totally separate. I obtained the house furnished, including Dr Quirk's rather extensive library."

Toby yawns, "...You know, maybe I should just head back to sleep for a while. I'm tired...But...I think I want to talk to you later Malcolm..." Toby seems to relax, her conflict set aside. And again, as seemed before, she seems somewhat sickly, and tired. Toby grumbles, "Stupid stasis..."

Mage leaves the portal open for Toby

Ebon Star only gradually seems to recover from the numbing effects of flying in winter. Maybe a bit more thought needs to go into costuming. Her mind seems to drift to images that are warmer and more temperate.

Mage pulls aside his blousey blue shirt to show Ebon star the tight fitting black layer beneath it. "Like a house," he says, "the foundation is sometimes more important than the exterior."

A fire is burning in the fireplace.

The tall man smiles cheerily and nods to Toby. "You take care of yourself, Toby. I'll try to catch up to you just as soon as possible, okay?"

"S-smug aren't we?" the cowled figure retorts and moves across to the fire to bask in the cheery glow, it at least brings the shivering under control pretty smartly.

Toby nods, closes her eyes, and seems to grow little pockets of pink light that disappear soon afterward all over her body, before it forms into a wavering veil of said pink light. With this, Toby lifts off the ground, out of the portal, up, and away.

Harlequin fades into existence beside the fireplace. He holds his gloved hands out towards the fire as if warming them then bows to Ebon Star.

Mage smirks at Harlequin's arrival and says to Malcolm, "He, however, was not on my list." To Harlequin he says, "Greetings. May all who enter as guests leave as friends."

Rolling his shoulders, Malcolm nods to Harlequin. "How's it going?" he inquires, casting a sidelong look at Mage. After a moment, the tall man shrugs and smiles, "Hey. More the merrier, if they want to help, right?"

The tiny cowled figure returns Harlequin's bow with a nod of acknowledgement. "What are we helping?" The electronically distorted voice asks. "or who? I'm guessing there's been some preliminaries I may have missed.

Harlequin replies in a European RP accent, "My apologies for intruding, Magister, but curiosity is ever my weakness. When magic, mind, and elements combine it is a sight one must see, no? And yes, I come as friend and mayhaps more." He bows to each of you in turn.

Mage explains to Ebon Star in his usual full upper-crust Boston accent, "Recent events have highlighted my ... failure to use my abilities to their fullest, simply because of the glut of able assistants locally." He pauses to let those words sink in, then continues a trifle theatrically now that he has a captive audience. "While I still feel I lack the necessary endurance to do what those in the hero community do as their chosen avocation, I do have certain abilities that can ferry aide to those who otherwise might fall outside the usual avenues of assistance. In short, I want to form a hero team."

Ebon Star's head inclines. "What you're suggesting, we'd have to have a fairly short response time for that to be useful wouldn't we? That implies a level of organization, rotating shifts, communication protocols, that sort of thing."

Harlequin cocks his head to one side as if listening attentively. Or perhaps he is stretching his neck.

Mage says, "To all except perhaps the rotating shifts, yes. With only one source of transportation, those unable to be helped due to bad timing would simply be unable to be helped. We do what we can."

For his part, Malcolm folds his arms across his chest and leans up against one of the parlor's chairs. He remains quiet for several long moments, watching the others for several long moments before, finally, he pipes in, "He hasn't told you the interesting part though."

Harlequin seems to perk up if his body language is any true measure. He leans forward slightly, his head tilting to the opposite side as he seems to focus his attention on the red robed Mage.

Ebon Star nods. "That makes sense I suppose though it does suggest also that we should put some effort into spreading that load around so you're not constantly in demand. But to me it sounds like a good concept."

Mage says (yes, a bit smugly), "I believe what Malcolm is referring to is that the places I am considering helping are beyond the reach of the usual sorts of aide; beyond the reach of a transmat or even United Earth."

Harlequin murmurs softly, "Such as?"

"Other planets," supplies Malcolm.

Mage says, "Planets on other dimensions, to be more specific"

Harlequin flips his left hand up palm up then palm down. "Other planets or alternate Earths? They are not quite the same thing after all, yes?"

One of Malcolm's eyebrows quirks upward. "Now that's definitely not in Star Guard or UEMS' jurisdictions at all, man. You should have /LED/ with that."

[To Malcolm] Mage says, "You sir, I fear have no sense of drama."

Smiling slyly back at Mage, Malcolm replies, "I fear you've too much sense of drama." Grinning ear to ear, Malcolm adds, "Which, I think, evens out in the end."

Mage nods in acknowledgement to Malcolm's compliment and says, "There are several stages to my plan. The main ones of concern to you are recruitment. I would like to recruit in two stages. First, I would like small 'heart' of the team to meet and create ground rules for the team's behavior. The second phase would be adding additional members based on ability and willingness to comply with those ground rules."

Harlequin nods slightly. "Ah, sadly, I am too grounded in this reality at present to go haring off on adventures in other realms at this time. Although I will be more than happy to aid you in this one." He shrugs. "I have interests I must look after here in Colonial Bay."

Mage gestures to the dozing Ebon Star. "My initial idea for this 'heart', Malcolm, was yourself, Ebon Star and Pendragon."

Harlequin thinks. o O (A very noble heart)