Mutants & Masterminds: Lake City Universe - HoH: An Afternoon In The Country (IC)

[z-Blitz]

"Sigil, hon... frying pans are made of iron." Blitz found another bug to peg with her spray before adding, "So the suggestion is that he's on his way to make sure you're not going to be another Grimalkin." Ironically, the first contender for that role was probably Blitz herself, given her checkered history, lack of moral fiber and questionable relationship with impulse control. Of course, Blitz didn't see this as a possibility.

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"Oh." Sigil blinked. "I see."

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"So do we need to wrap you in a thick blanket or have magnets ready to go?"

[SalmonMax]

Sigil chuckles and shakes her head.

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"It should be fine. I was born mortal...iron has no power over that. And if it's what he needs to do to feel comfortable with me, then I will endure iron's touch for that."

[Hellhound]

"Nah," Russell shook his head, "You don't have to endure shit. No one hits a girl while I'm watching. Not even my boss. We call that a hostile work environment. No reason we need to get Non-Human Resources involved." He smirked. Clearly he thought that his joke was funnier than it really was.

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"Look, bottom line is, we're all adults here." Russell folded his arms and regarded the rest of the group, "We've disarmed more dangerous situations than this one. Like y'know, that one time... with the bomb. We can handle Mike throwing a tantrum, I think. Worst case scenario, I'll just hold him back until he cools off." Russell shrugged, he seemed far less concerned about the situation than Bo was.

[SalmonMax]

Sigil gives Russell a level look, then turns the same gaze back on Bo.

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"Is his intent to hit me with this iron pan?"

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The tone of her voice clearly implied she'd be a lot less cooperative if the answer was 'yes.'

[Heritage]

Bo looked alarmed and held up his hands. "Oh no no no, dear God no! I think he's just gonna...like, tap you with it or somethin'." He scratched his head. "I'm not exactly sure he's thinkin' a hunnert percent straight on this one. The whole Grim thing did a number on his head, and I think he doesn't want any repeats. More than likely, he's concerned you might be Grim in disguise, and it sounds like a quick tap o' the pan oughta clear that up right away."

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He looked off into space as he tried to explain. "Y'see with Grim, the touch of iron actually physically burned her, like it was hot or made of acid or somethin'." The Texan pointed at the monarch's clothing. "Also if you were her, your duds would melt back into glamour where he touched 'em; looks kinda like dry ice meltin'."

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Then he turned to face Russell. "But there ain't gonna be no violence, ya hear? Just a lil' test so Mister Bossman can focus is control freak paranoia onto somethin' else and move on with his life."

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Rusty poked his head out of his trailer for a moment. "Mr Kolansky's here; should I buzz him in?"

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Bo took a deep breath. "Yeah, T-Bone, let him in." His eyes flicked from one team member to the other, then muttered to himself. "Let's get this over with..."

[SalmonMax]

"So be it," replies Sigil with a satisifed nod. "His caution is...understandable, and his methods effective, if a touch uncouth."

[Heritage]

In short order, Mike's jet-black Mercedes hybrid sedan came up the drive, crunching the gravel as it came. It came to a stop, and out stepped their immediate boss, hair pulled back into a ponytail as always and his beard neatly trimmed. He wore a red Lake City Ramblers warm-up jacket and aviator sunglasses. In his hand as a small frying pan.

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Bo gave him a forced and weary smile, and held up a hand in greeting. "Hey Mike! Nice to see ya, bud!"

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Mike whipped off his glasses, pointed the pan and Bo and scowled. "You and I are going to have a very long talk." Then he shifted his gaze to the fae monarch. "I take it you are Sigil? it's very nice to meet you, ma'am; that is, if you are who you say you are." His angry pace slowed somewhat as he began to awkwardly fiddle with the pan, passing it from hand to hand. "I..." The man gulped nervously, then extended the object forward. "Please forgive, for what I feel I must do."

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The pan got closer and closer, until it finally gently poked Sigil in the arm...with no visible effect. Mike let out a huge sigh of relief, which Bo echoed. "Well thank God that's over with, eh? Now let's all get back to work!" The Texan indicated Blitz with a nod. "Russ, you read to take on this lil' filly?"

[SalmonMax]

Sigil winced a little in spite of herself as the pan touched her arm, then frowned. When Mike stepped back she stared at the pan fixedly, then looked back at Mike. Her face softened with a dawning look of comprehension and...pity?

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"How long have you been using that pan to test people?" she asked quietly.

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Mike looked at the pan for a second. His eyebrows beetled together a little and he looked back at her. "Since the start. Since...since we had our falling out with her."

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"May I?"

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Now a little confused, but with a growing unease, Mike let Sigil take hold of the cast iron pan. He eyed her wand warily as she produced it.

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Sigil touched the tip of the wand to the pan, and it flared with white light. The pan immediately began to shimmer and waver. After a few seconds, it evaporated into a thick, heavy white mist that faded away as it cascaded down to the ground. Like dry ice.

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She replaced the wand in its case at her side and regarded Mike's stricken face with real compassion.

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"I'm sorry. I can't say when it happened, but at some point she caught wise to your test."

[Hellhound]

"Well, damn." Rusell remarked matter of factly as the frying pan disappeared, "It does kind of look like dry ice evaporating..." He didn't say it too loudly, thinking that he shouldn't poke a sleeping bear.

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"You're just in time, Mike." He called out as he strolled back toward the green, "Val and I were about to have a sparring match. Care to watch?"

[z-Blitz]

The memory of another frying pan tugged at her thoughts, but Blitz shoved it away. At least she now had gotten what that was about. Now, Val all but bounced on her toes as she faced her boss. “Yeah, Mike! You should totally care to watch. Unless…” Her enthusiasm dimmed a touch. “Unless you need to get another source of cold iron and touch-test us all now. I promise I am Val!”

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It was getting easier to lie. Her name was Val, when shortened. It was the parts that she was leaving out that were the problem.

[SalmonMax]

"If it helps," Sigil said, "I've been dealing with faerie for...a very long time. There aren't many tricks that can be played with glamour that I can't see through. I can vouch for the others on this team and back at the headquarters. No illusions or magicks on any of them. If this pot is Grim's work, I'm confident I will be able to recognize it should I see it again."

[Heritage]

Mike had stared dumbstruck at the pan as it drifted off into vapor, and he looked like he deflated a bit; his chin drooped down to his chest and he squeezed his his eyes closed, his hands balled into fists. Bo walked over to him and sort of rubbed his back.

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"Shit, man, I'm sorry. I'm sure-" The pony-tailed team leader then surprised the Texan by suddenly grasping him in a fierce bear hug. "Hey, man! It's all...it's alright..."

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Mike's partially-muffled words were heavy with bitterness and regret. "I try so damn hard to keep everyone safe, to protect this damn team. And all she does is mock me, every fucking step of the way." Then he pulled back abruptly, a look of painful realization on his face. "Kiki; it had to be Kiki. She's the weak link..."

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This comment clearly filled Bo with anger. "Aw, c'mon man, fuck that! Fuck this paranoid bullshit! That girl is loyal, goddamn it, and you better check yourself, son!" He flipped his hand up. "Hell, Grim coulda just used, like, an oven mitt or somethin' to pick the real pan up! Do not blame yourself or anyone else for this!" And then he pointed at the new team members assembled. "Now what you gotta do is get your head outta that well of self-pity and paranoia, and focus on whatcha got, which is a damn fine new team shapin' up as we speak! They are gonna be the ones to bring that damn pixie to ground, so you better invest a little more time and effort inna these new folk and stop beatin' yourself up over what's past, or worse, looking for fault in those you got around you. Now can you do that for me, Mike? Can you do that for this here new team?"

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The words hit Mike in the face like a bucketful of ice water; he stood there for a few moments, blinking, and then he shook his head. "Yeah, Bo, yeah; I can..." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. I've been...so focused on this whole Grim thing that I haven't..." He indicated one of the folding chairs with a jerk of his head. "Is that seat taken?"

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Bo grinned and shook his head. "Nope, it's yours, buddy, free and clear." He grabbed a cold beer out of the cooler and tossed it to his friend, who caught it without even looking. Mike settled into the chair, popped the top and raised it to his lips, which showed a hint of a smile.

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"You guys said something about a workout?"

[z-Blitz]

“Yep!” Blitz did a couple of laps to warm up and dropped into some rapid stretches. To the others, she was a blur for about three seconds before she stopped again. “I’m ready to rock and roll. Bring it on, Russ.” She gave him a wink and backpeddled into the arena.

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“Just to clarify, I’m going to try to hit you with a low-powered attack, and you’re going to try to dodge—or take it.” Blitz flashed him a wicked grin just before running backwards in a blur to her spot. Gamely, she crouched like a shortstop waiting for the grounder.

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Initiative:

Carver *rolls* 1d20: 9+13: 22

[SalmonMax]

Sigil watches Mike, but lets Bo take the lead on talking to him. She suspected, with his background, placations and assurances weren't things he'd respond to from her.

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So she simply steps back a little to give the 'arena' some space, and watches to see what comes of Blitz and Hellhound's little spar.