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Everything posted by Karrie Sherman

  1. Ahh, Karrie thought, keeping her smile in place as Ski-Mask mentioned the zombies and Evo. Karrie wondered why Renata wanted to hide her identity here, but mentally shrugged it off. That was Renata’s business. Plus, that costume was amazing. “I’m sure someone brought an extra suit,” Karrie said, smiling at her. “I have a nightshirt that would cover you, and I’m sure we could find shorts. No one’s going to mind if you’re not in a suit, and it’ll be fun.”
  2. September 25, 2019, just after midnight The wine had done nothing. Karrie hated that, because nothing finished off a dinner at her parents like that lazy, hazy feeling of mild intoxication. She’d expected that, but it didn’t change the irritation at reality. Brady shifted slightly next to her, tugging her a bit closer on the settee. Holly and the twins were upstairs, already settled into guest rooms. Once the dinner conversation ran after nine, Jack and Holly had just decided to stay the night, not an unusual move with three young children. Bax was a warm weight on Karrie’s side, snoring softly; he’d been granted the privilege of staying up with the adults because he was five, but he’d quickly passed out once he’d stopped moving. That was also usual, as Aunt Karrie had been Bax’s favorite pillow since he was a baby. Her mother and father discussed politics with Jack, while Brady held her close and listened. Jack had Opinions, of course, as did Fred, while Anna goaded them playfully. The rise and fall of their voices filled her with comfort, while flames danced in the fireplace. The normalcy of being home eased into her, and started to replace at least the lazy feeling of the wine. As her body relaxed, her mind started to race, chewing at what she knew and digesting it as best it could with week-old facts and data. Any analysis that she did now would be flawed, useless-- “Did you fall asleep on us?” Brady whispered to her, jarring her out of thoughts. “Almost,” Karrie agreed, looking down at Bax. “I have some encouragement.” She sat up and shifted her nephew into her arms carefully. Jack stopped his diatribe on Venezuela, turning attentively to her. “Tired of being a pillow?” her brother asked, running a hand through his perfectly swept blond hair. “Actually, I was planning to go home,” Karrie said as she rose and passed the child to her brother. Baxter’s eyes fluttered open, but when he saw his dad, they fluttered shut again. Smiling, Karrie kissed his forehead, smiling fondly. They said their goodnights and headed out of the house toward the car. “I can drive,” Karrie said. Brady tilted his head. “You drank.” “No effect. I doubt I’d peg a breathalizer right now,” Karrie said regretfully. “Yikes,” Brady said, holding the door. “How will you survive family dinners?” Karrie backhanded him playfully. “Ass.” He caught her hand, leaning over the door to kiss her. “An ass who missed you.” “I missed you too,” Karrie whispered, and they kissed again. It went on long enough that Karrie started to sweat in the muggy D.C. evening, moist and warm even in September. “Can we get home?” she asked when they parted for air. “I want to finish this at home.” “Yes, ma’am,” he said, closing the door once she was seated and jogging to the other side. They held hands and kissed at stoplights, Brady focusing on driving while Karrie rubbed his thigh with her other hand and teased him. By the time they reached the bedroom, they were both wound. Half-undressed, they collapsed onto the sheets together, filling the room with heavy breathing and soft gasps. They often parted for long periods of time, and the coming back together was often like this. Tonight, the urgency in their coupling reached a new intensity. Later, they lay together on the bed, talking softly until Brady fell asleep. Karrie tried to join him, but eventually gave up. Her mind wouldn’t stop analyzing the world, but was doing so with half-facts. There were too many holes in the data, and soon she found herself in her home office, logging into her terminal. She’d been locked out from remote access. Sighing, Karrie slumped in her chair. They hadn’t fired her, but they had blocked her from any off-site information. Wondering if that was permanent, she went to get dressed.
  3. Karrie nodded at Mask. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said politely, smiling at the newcomer and wondering who the hell she was. She spoke with a U.S. accent, but Karrie was having trouble placing exactly who she was. Then Kyria started talking, and Karrie quirked an eyebrow at the spew of information from the redhead, wondering how many times the woman had been forced to intercept someone interested in Steve. That of course reminded her of Brady, and Karrie felt a pang of desire for her absent fiance. They’d talked about him coming, but the invitation hadn’t allowed for non-Stormers specifically, so he’d stayed home. It was too bad; he’d have made a cute Mad Hatter. “We could go swimming,” Karrie agreed, glancing at Lucia. When she’d heard island, she’d guessed swimming would be a thing. “I’ll just want to finish my plate though.”
  4. The party had proven to be most helpful. Karrie had spoken with six key people, all identified as potential recruits. Karrie had made positive contact with them, and five had seemed interested in further recruitment contacts. Her path -- the last contact had been a walker-talker -- had taken her to the drink table, and she smiled to see her next contact was already there. “Lucia!” she said as she leaned against the bar, smiling. “How have you been?” “Sucky,” the younger enhanced said, mustering a smile for Karrie. “Are you Alice?” “Sure am,” Karrie said with a chuckle, glancing down at the blue pinafore with the white stockings. “It seemed appropriate given the way that life has been.” “Man, now I wish I’d thought of that,” Lucia sighed as she glanced down at her floor-length white dress. She’d put her hair in cinnamon buns, and even Karrie knew she was Leia from one of the Star Wars movies. “So what’s wrong with your life?” Karrie asked after asking the bartender for a coke. “Crazy people,” the young woman groused. “I keep getting death threats from the religious crazies that think I’m like literally the Beast of the Apocalypse or a demon or something. One guy actually accused me of being the reason he beats his wife.” She looked both utterly disgusted and creeped out; she shook her head and shrugged. “The other people want to worship me as some sort of vampire-thing? I still don’t get it. Mom said she thinks its a game or book or something and Dad pretty much doesn’t care and now we have a P.O. box where all our mail goes and gets sorted by the police. Maybe the FBI.” She sighed and muttered, “I shoulda gone into witness protection.” “That does suck.” Karrie frowned sympathetically and took her drink with a smile for the bartender. “Do you want to do WitSec now? It wouldn’t be as effective, but it’d be something better than what you have now.” “My parents don’t want to uproot their lives, even if it means dealing with the letters and having to chase off people from the neighborhood on a regular basis. The police are handling most of that,” Lucia frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know that it would do any good at this point. It’s just. . .creepy. And if the government wasn’t just taking care of most of it, we’d be going broke trying to pay for protection and mail sorting and all of that. I mean, my music and comic sales have gone up, but not into that kind of money.” She gave Karrie a curious look, “What about you? Same kinds of problems or did you go into witness protection?” “My job was largely unaffected,” Karrie said, “I was fortunate that my enhancements enabled me to do my job better. Though I’m changing jobs now because of the Storm.” “Oh? What’re you going to do now?” Lucia asked curiously. She motioned for Karrie to follow her so they could keep talking, but the grumbling in the young Stormer’s stomach was demanding another plate from the buffet. “My family is with the government, and I’m putting together a quick-response team to deal with enhanced-level threats,” Karrie said, falling into step with Lucia. “I can’t share many of the details right now, but if we have another monster arise, we need a better response than ‘hope someone’s around who can deal with it’.” She shook her head as they aligned on opposite sides of the table, picking up plates. “We can’t be caught unaware if there’s another enhanced-level threat.” “So, basically, you’re gonna go beat up the monsters that might beat up the world?” Lucia asked. “Or Stormers that go bad or something? Or is this more like being a Stormer Navy SEALs team?” “Some Stormers are already the Navy Seal team, effectively,” Karrie noted quietly, bypassing the pasta dish to pick up a kabob stick of meats and vegetables. “This will be a group meant to deal with enhanced-level threats that threaten to cause harm to innocents.” She paused, unsure how much to share with Lucia, before adding, “Whatever form those threats may take.” Lucia paused, thinking that through. “Yeah,” she said with a bit of a swallow, “that seems like a good idea. I mean, every time I get mad or upset, I have to be real careful not to lash out with. . .” A black tendril formed through her dress, flick it itself like a ink-stained whip, “. . .these, even if I don’t mean to.” “You interested, then?” Karrie asked, smiling. “We’re still in the formation stages, but the more names of interested enhanced I can bring with me to the table, the better funding we’ll get.” “Um, I mean, I’m not really a fighter,” she said a little nervously. “Not really. What happened in the Storm was just me panicking.” Lucia bit her lip, thinking it over. She was an artist, not a soldier, but at this point people were buying her music and getting on her Patreon because they wanted to have a piece of this ‘Losambra’ persona the crazies were building around her, not because they just liked her stuff. “Let me think it over?” “Of course. I still have your number from quarantine, and I’ll call you later.” Karrie took a bit of shrimp and added, “If you don’t mind, I’ll just call to see how you’re doing, too. If I’d realized, I would have reached out sooner.” A look of relief and gratitude swept over the young woman’s face. “That would be great. It’d be nice to talk to someone that knows what it’s like to go through all of this.” “Not a problem,” Karrie assured her. A little ways down from them, she spotted a familiar face. “Hey, let me introduce you to someone I met in Europe.” She headed toward Kyria and the beautifully costumed woman with her. As Lucia tagged along, Karrie headed toward the lovely redhead. When she got close to Kyria, she called out her name and waved. “How have you been?” she asked as they gave each other one-armed hugs. “This is Lucia, Lucia, Kyria.”
  5. September 24, 2019 Karrie exited the New Headquarters Building and right into Brady’s arms. They kissed and Karrie leaned into him, so grateful to be able to touch him again. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair for a long moment. Karrie inhaled his scent, the familiar mix of citrus bodywash and shampoo, along with his spicy cologne. For the space of a few heartbeats, all was right with the world. “All right, that’s enough, Brady,” Anna said firmly after a moment, putting a hand on the man’s arm. “You’re blocking a mother from her child and that is a poor idea.” “Sorry,” Brady said, stepped back so that Anna and Fred could enfold their child in a hug. Karrie leaned against her parents, feeling safe once more, even if she knew that was a lie. “You’re coming to our house,” Anna said firmly once she and her husband let Karrie go, though Fred kept his arm around Karrie’s shoulders. Tugging her jacket straight in a nervous habit Karrie had identified at five years of age, she added, “Jack and Holly are bringing the kids and we’re having dinner. Brady, you’re invited of course.” “Thank you, ma’am,” he told her with a smile. “Stop it,” Anna said, smacking him on the arm. “Just for that, you’re riding with me.” Karrie opened her mouth to protest but her father’s arm over her shoulder tightened. She stopped what she was going to say and gave Brady a little head nod instead. “That’s what you get for not calling her Anna, as she’s asked,” Karrie told her fiance with a little smile. They kept up the light chatter all the way to the cars, where Anna loaded Brady into her sporty two-seater and buzzed away. Fred and Karrie got in the town car; in the front seat, Jordan, the driver, made sure they were settled, then raised the barrier between the seats. “So, how bad, really?” Fred asked, turning in his seat to look at her more directly. “It’s not good,” Karrie replied, falling back into analyst mode. “A lot of predictability just got removed from the world stage, because anyone can create change on the world stage, if they get these powers. Dad, the things I saw people doing in quarantine are world-altering.” “I got that from the reports,” Fred replies, muscles tightening in his jaw, “but I need to know what the country does next.” Karrie folded her hands and looked her father in the eye. “We prepare by recruiting powered individuals into a response force that can deal with problems that arise. And Dad, this is a global issue now.” Fred grimaced and Karrie persisted. “I know, I know. But not liking it doesn’t make it true. Someone who could teleport can deposit a dirty bomb in any populated center. We have flyers, super-strong people, water control, and lightning powers, shadow manipulation, and that’s just among us and Britain. We have no clue what other countries have.” “At least you got the ability to stop the use of powers,” Fred said. “I can’t think of a better, more responsible person to have it.” “I wish we had a lot more people with this ability,” Karrie said softly, glancing out the window. “I can’t be everywhere, and I can’t answer all the issues our country will face.” She turned to her father. “I need to talk to some people, and I need your help. We have a lot of work to do.”
  6. Karrie blinked and stared at Emily. “Uh, was she not paying attention just now?” she asked the group, frowning. “Because he’s not leaving. And she could leave if she’d just comply--” Cutting herself off with a shake of her head, Karrie turned to Dr. Ballard. “So I can’t show you what you want unless someone is willing to allow me to shut them down.” Even she wondered if they’d ask her to go after Emily, she glanced at the others assembled. “Can I have a volunteer?” “I’ll offer,” Delia said, stepping forward while keeping an eye on the scientists. The middle-aged woman had been very quiet until now and this was the first time she’d volunteered. “Just give me a moment to dance through the hoop myself, then you can turn them off.” Karrie nodded and focused on the other woman’s lights, watching as they flared brightly as flames burst to life on her hands. Idly, Karrie wondered if she’d ever reach the point where people became little more than lights to her, their uniqueness turned into classifications of power. It was too easy for people to turn others into numbers or labels, and Karrie knew she was just as susceptible to that as anyone else. After watching the fires dance on Delia’s fingers, Karrie said, “I’m doing it now,” and snuffed out the lights. “I don’t like that,” Delia said sharply, her eyes narrowing in concentration. No more flames appeared and she glared at Karrie. “I think you’ve made your point.” Raising her hands in a ‘no harm meant’ gesture, Karrie asked Dr. Ballard, “Are we good here?”
  7. Karrie smiled at the subtle support. She’d seen a couple of people take a second look at her, and she had been prepared to be a pariah. It was good that some people here could look past the immediate sense of “not my powers” to see their use. “I think I’d be perfectly happy if I never had to stop someone from using their powers ever again,” she said. “If I need to intercept someone’s use of powers, I probably means someone is getting hurt.” “Wow, do you have a list of the safest responses you can give?” The blond in the corner dropped her magazine with a flick of her perfect wrist. Bored blue eyes stared at Karrie as she rose and claimed her own MRE, tucking it under her arm in a clear claim of holding it for later. “Live a little. We’re so much more, so much better than we used to be. Sound more interesting.” Mean Girl. Karrie couldn’t stop the label, mostly because the woman looked like she could have filled that role on any soap opera. Meeting the other woman’s eyes, she shrugged. “I like how I am, thanks,” she said, not bothering to argue the benefits of not being noticed. Turning back to the group, she wrote chips and salsa, hummus and veggies, anything chocolate on the clipboards going around them.
  8. Karrie laughed at Deezy’s comments. “Actually, I need an active power to turn off. I can’t turn off all powers flat out -- yet. So I’d be happy to demonstrate if someone has a non-harmful power they’d like to show off?” “Sure.” The girl with the black eyes held glanced up at the ceiling and the lights started to dim. Karrie watched her closely, intrigued by the strange black flickering lights she saw around the woman. With her own effort of power, she turned Lucia’s lights off. The lights immediately brightened again, and Lucia blinked. “Whoa, weird. It’s like I don’t have access to the shadows anymore.”
  9. Moving to the table with the rations, Karrie dug in, chewing steadily through two of them as she listened to the others talk. When she hit the natural point for her to share, she took a drink of water and straightened a little. “I stop powers from working,” she said casually. “I and some British Marines were fighting an ice giant. Amusing since one of the other powered people there had weather powers. Lightning and thunder. Like that super-hero movie. “And yes, this Storm was world wide,” Karrie continued. “Every country has been dealing with the aftermath. We’re not sure of the total dead, nor will we ever have more than a rough estimate, I suspect. There will be more injuries, of course, and billions in damages. Our world has literally been changed forever.”
  10. Karrie smiled at the warm greetings and set the bag down. “I’m actually under order from the debriefers here to eat and sleep, but you are all welcome to use the stuff in here.” She started to pull things out, holding up the books and magazines so everyone could see them. “My dad’s assistant packed it though, so it’s going to be generic.” She made a face as she set the latest John Patterson ghost-authored bestseller on a chair. “Though after the first quarantine, I’ll accept a John Patterson book over boredom,” she added, holding up a Five Crowns and Uno deck. “First?” Lucia asked, frowning. “Yeah, I was in England for The Storm,” Karrie said, “and was quarantined but the Brits for a moment.” She sat down the last of the games and glanced at them. “So, do we wait for food or is there a kitchen? Does someone wanna give me a tour?”
  11. Karrie stepped through the final doorway, into the main quarantine area. It wasn’t much to look at, and hardly seemed welcoming after a twelve-hour flight in a HAZMAT suit and six hours of debriefing through speakers. The dozen or so people looked at her with interest, and Karrie suddenly felt like the new kid on the playground. Only this playground was with superpowered people. None of them have proven violent, she told herself, hoisting her overnight bag a little higher on her shoulder. The CDC hadn’t allowed laptops or electronics, but Dad had sent his assistant yesterday with a bag full of books, magazines, and card games. It had included a note that said when Mom and Dad could visit, they’d bring her clothing and her favorite snack cakes. The question of Monopoy hung in the air as she entered the room, and Karrie smiled. “I have a few more games, and some books and things.” She sat down her bag. “Hey, guys. I’m Karrie.”
  12. "Thank you." Karrie picked up the phone and dialed her boss's phone number. After a ring, her boss answered with a barked, "Harrison." "Sherman, sir. You asked me to report." Karrie could see her supervisor, an axe-faced woman with beautiful steel-gray hair, leaning back in her chair so she could peer out the window like she always did on calls. "Are you able to talk freely?" "No, sir." She didn't’ look at her cellmates. "Very well. We received notice that the asset is not in-house anymore.” The background noise rose a bit then dropped again. Karrie blinked as she realized she could hear someone slipping into one of Harrison’s chairs. “Correct, sir,” she replied. She didn’t ask who the other person was. “Are you with the asset?” “Yes, sir.” “Hmm. Do you think you can get her home?” Harrison asked as someone else tapped their fingers impatiently. “I understand what you’re asking, sir,” Karrie replied, pretty sure if she talked about ‘trying’ something and then selling Kyria on the U.S. of A. might look funny. Maybe not to Kyria, but it was better if no one suspected any proposals on her part weren’t her idea. “Do you need anything?” “If I do, I’ll ask, sir.” “Chin up, Sherman. See you soon,” Harrison said in parting. Karrie smiled and sat on the bunk, dialing one of two numbers she knew by heart. Her mom picked up a moment later. “Hello?” “Hey, Mom, it’s me.” “Kar-bear!” Karrie winced. “I’m safe, still in England. Did they explain what’s going on?” “Yes, sweetheart. Oh, I wish your father were home, he’ll hate having missed your call.” “I have to call Brady still, and they aren’t giving us long to talk,” Karrie glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering how crazy Dad’s schedule must be today. “So I have to let you go. Tell everyone I love them, I’ll be home soon, and I’ll call again before if I can.” “Love you too, sweetie! MWAH! Be safe, all that other sappy Mom-stuff!” “Bye.” Karrie immediately dialed one more time. “Dewhurst.” Just hearing that single word from his mouth unknotted a hard lump in her gut. “Hey, love.” “Karrie.” The pure love and relief in his voice. “Are you okay?” “Yes, but I can’t talk long.” “I can’t either. Your dad said you had something weird happen to you?” “Yes, and I’ll tell you all about it when I see you,” Karrie promised. “I look the same, I promise.” “Good, because I love you the way you are, and not scary like my recruit went.” He usually didn’t talk about these things at all, and Karrie chalked that up to the stress he was under. “I love you, too. See you soon, honey.” “Soon. Be safe.” “You, too,” Karrie said. When she hung up, she felt better and worse than before the call. She wanted nothing more than to be home with her family. Turning, she offered the phone to Steve and Kyria.
  13. Karrie had been concentrating on her writing, or rather she’d been trying to concentrate. She’d tried sleeping too, but had finally been forced to give up when her cellmate’s feet had earwigged an irritating commercial jingle into her head. She’d requested pen and paper from the Brits, and started writing. The redhead -- she needed to pick a name to use -- had flittered over to see what Karrie was doing, pouting when she’d seen a sting of numbers and letters on the page. “Is that code?” she asked. “Yes,” Karrie replied casually. “But… why?” the woman asked. “So that people can’t look over my shoulder and read what I’m writing,” Karrie told her. In truth, she’d always written her notes in code, ever since she’d had her diary stolen in second grade and teased about its secrets. When she’d told her parents, her father had helped her develop her own personal secret code. He’d thought it’d be a phase, but Karrie just considered it the first step down the road of a professional secret-keeper. “What are you writing?” the woman persisted. “My thoughts,” Karrie answered. “About?” “What happened yesterday.” She didn’t add, and it’s ongoing impact on global stability. While that statement was reasonable in light of what had happened, Karrie didn’t feel like leaving breadcrumbs revealing her true nature. Job, Karrie, it’s a job, she reminded herself wryly, her pen continuing to move over the pages. Perhaps it was in her nature as well, she thought as she considered the pages of neatly lettered gibberish. Gibberish to anyone but her; after years of using this code, she could read it like she read English. “What are your thoughts?” the redhead asked. Karrie looked up at her finally and said, “You need a name. Something Steve and I can call you.”
  14. The phone had nothing other than a busy signal. “Shit,” Karrie said and headed for the roof. World-altering events were happening -- because giants and Thor were apparently a thing now -- and she was fucking stuck in England without any real support. You’re just an analyst, you’re not Brady, able to save the world, a scared voice in her head said, but Karrie knew it was stupid and wrong. She could do something, she could diminish that monster, but it was moving away and she needed to stay close. She popped the door open, holding up her hand to stop the lashing rain from blinding her. The faintly glowing man was still there and Karrie dashed toward him, waving her arms. “Wait, wait!” she shouted. “Can you get me closer to that thing?” He paused from gathering himself and turned towards her, eyes flickering with an electric glow but still recognisably carrying an expression of disbelief. "Luv, I don't want to get closer to that thing. But it's my job." he yelled back. "Why are you going?" “I can shut it down, or parts of it!” Karrie yelled, then sighed. “Can you get me to the giant? I need to be within a hundred meters, I think.” “Ya think?” he yelled back. “Look, I’m making this up as I go along,” she said, challenge in her voice, “same as you.” He grinned at her. “Then climb on and hold tight!” Karrie swallowed as she circled behind him and climbed on his back. “Don’t suppose you come installed with seatbeats?” “It’s getting away,” he told her. “Go,” Karrie said grimly. He crouched, the wind picked up sharply and then threw them into the air. She bit back a shriek of terror, redoubling her grip on his shoulders. She nearly lost that grip when a woman dropped from the night to hover next to them. “Hello. Need some help?”
  15. Karrie yanked on her tennis shoes and grabbed her bathrobe and coat. She left her purse but grabbed her wallet and phone, stuffing them in pockets. Still half-asleep, she operating on training that was ingrained into her. First priority: civilians. She went into the hall, seeing a number of people trying to evacuate but in a disorderly fashion. She grabbed the closest one, a middle-aged man close to hysteria. “Be calm,” Karrie instructed, her voice hard as ice and unable to resist. “Leave the building.” Over and over she grabbed a civilian, calmed them, and ordered them to leave. At the end of the hall, she went up a flight, passing a couple on their way down, and opened the door into an icy hell. Hoarfrost still coated everything and the hallway opened to several rooms, which opened to the outside. Bodies lay bleeding and trapped. She had no medical gear, no triage training. She needed help. Back at the hallway, she grabbed a young man. “Go downstairs, find the emergency services, and direct them up here,” she ordered. His eyes showed fear and shock, but they cleared as she gave him direct orders to follow. Up one the next floor, the hall was open to the dark sky and countryside. Karrie stared up at the giant of ice and stared. To her surprise, she wasn’t that surprised. “That’s different,” she muttered. It didn’t matter. She could do nothing against it, only support efforts against it. Flipping open her phone, she dialed the one number she hoped she’d never use: the “shit’s gone sideways numbers, or better known as the boss’s personal cell phone.
  16. Karen Sherman Legal Name: Karen Toypurina Sherman Alias: TBD Eruption: TBD Allegiance/Affiliations: CIA, United States Living Relatives: Senator Frederick Allen Sherman (father); Annabelle Denise (nee. McGregor) Sherman (mother); Jackson Lee Sherman (brother); Holly Elizabeth (nee. Wilcox) Sherman (sister in law); Baxter Richard Sherman (nephew); Callie Rachel Sherman (niece); Cody Rollins Sherman (nephew); assorted other relatives Physical Traits Weight: 150 Height: 5’7” Apparent age: mid-twenties Age: 28 Gender: female Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Black Handedness: Right Appearance: Toned and in good physical health, Karrie prefers to wear clothing that doesn’t make her stand out or show her athleticism. She likes to surprise people with it if she needs to. When exercising, she prefers leggings and pullovers; for formal events, she wears gowns as appropriate. Whatever she is wearing, it is stylish and trendy. She moves with the surety of someone who knows where she is, and where she is going. Her long hair is usually up at work, but off the clock, she tends to let it hang loose. She tends to wear minimal makeup, even at parties where ‘peacocking’ would be more acceptable. Temperament: Generally serious and quiet, Karrie usually gives the air of someone thinking intently -- at least until they actually see her deep in thought and realize she has a resting thinking face. She does have a sense of humor, and it often pops up as dry sarcasm or whip-sharp snark. She doesn’t tolerate fools well, and she can be irritable if she sees someone that way. She takes her duty seriously, even going so far as to find a suitable relationship within the Agency so she can have a partner she can talk about work with. She thinks before she speaks; after her eruption, it just means she can think as quickly as most people blurt. Known Powers: Karrie openly displays her brilliance and social acumen. She has a power shield of some kind. History: Fred and Annabelle were married young and planned for kids immediately, but that wasn’t to be. They had infertility issues, and carrying Jackson to term was very hard on Annabelle’s health. Despite that, they still wanted a second child, so turned their thoughts to adoption. At the time, Fred as stationed with the Army in Santa Fe, and they found a six month old native girl in the foster system. They applied to adopt her and were granted custody. Not long after, Fred’s tour was done and they moved home to western Texas. Fred did consulting work, then ran for local office. It wasn’t hard for him to get elected; he was well-known and liked. The next time his state representative came up for election, Fred ran on the Grand Old Party ticket and won. From there, it was an upward trajectory. Fred was likeable and a former service member; he had a pretty wife and adorable kids. By the time they were in high school, both were attending Sidwell Friends School, a private school in Washington DC as Fred settled into his freshman term as one of Texas’s US Senators. Having already served as governor of Texas briefly, Fred seemed White House bound in a few more terms. Karrie joined the Marines after college. Though her parents urged her to do the Air Force, Karrie was set on the Marines. She wanted the challenge that they would present to her, and she persevered through basic. She qualified for Intelligence and thought it sounded interesting. It was more than interesting; she was good at analyzing it. After her term of service, her father aimed her at politics, but when she was approached by the State Department to work in their logistics division, she accepted without hesitation. There, she settled in well and did a good job, gaining promotions at a regular rate. After her first year there, she met Brady Dewhurst. He also worked at State as embassy support and spent a fair amount of time in Africa, working out of country. When he was in-country, he and Karrie started rock climbing and skydiving together. Three years after they started dating, he proposed, and she accepted. Her life seems set toward perfection just as The Storm looms on the horizon... Special Knowledge: Karrie was recruited by the CIA as an analyst, not by the State Department. Likewise, Brady is a field agent, not an embassy employee.
  17. You don't have the clearance level for that, mister.
  18. If you have to insist it's that big, It's probably not.
  19. Well, he does. His ego won't fit through the gate.
  20. The blonde woman stood slowly, getting her feet under her. Her heart had just shattered, burned away with the destruction of Kongou's mech, but she had her duty. "We can speak to Yuna Misamaru together." Amaya swayed a little. Even with the fragile expression on her face, the resemblance to Katrine Kymia was unmistakable.
  21. A soft thud sounded next to Kai, when he turned, he saw that Amaya had dropped to her knees in shock. Slowly, disbelievingly, her expression turned to grief. Everyone saw the glint of tears before she pressed her face to her hands. For a moment, it was only her bowed shoulders, shaking a little. But all too soon, the choking sobs started, sounding like they'd never stop. And then Amaya faded, her blue hair and adolscent form thinning and disappearing like mist blowing away. And underneath that blowing mist was a stranger, a tall woman of approximately thirty, with blonde hair. And she was crying as Amaya had been, crying as if her heart were shattering.
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