Dollhouse

((OOC)) quick flashback to Essex's request for help...thread's moving prety fast!))


Lili had at first responded to Essex's request for assistance by calling out to the smaller children, urging them to follow her. Her voice was surprisingly rich and strong for a 6-year-old. Several of the youngers turned to look at her, and she briefly flashed on a memory from a couple years previously. When she was just a baby.

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"You must prrrrroJECT, Lili! Put yor lungs behind it, your diaphragm..."

"Dia...my what?"

"Your diphragm, mon petit. Speak from the pit of your stomach. If you are to grow up to be a Ring Mistress, you must first be heard, little one. No one will pay any atention to a Ring Mistress who mumbles!"

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Well, they were paying attention...but they weren't following! Essex would be cross with her...would think she was just a baby! What could she do? Then it occurred to her: it wasn't enough to get their attention...she had to captivate them, fascinate them. She had to be a performer.

Stooping, she snatched up three random small objects: a Beanie Baby, a wooden block, and an eraser from one of the marker boards...and began to juggle. The objects were dissimilar in size, but there were only three. Child's play. She could keep three going while walking...or herding the youngers!

It was working! They were rapt, and followed her as she headed into the other room.

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((OOC)) Back to the "present!


"My name is Lili," she stated simply, her piping voice tinged with a French accent.

Lili put away her juggling balls and walked towards the front room to find this Mr. Archlich person. There were so many new faces! She'd never remember them all...but she decided she simply had to try. It was somehow right and proper that she should know everyone...know what they were like, what they were good at, what they weren't so good at. Then it would be easy to pick the best games! Oh, what fun everyone would have! Everything would be just so...

Lili tossed her wild profusion of shockingly red minibraids over her shoulder, a look of exasperation shooting across her sharp-featured, long-nosed face. Her stupid hair was always making her drop! She really wanted to cut it all off, but she figured she'd probably get in trouble if she just swiped some scissors and had at it. She bent over to pick up the dropped balls.

Straightening, she began the 5-ball weave anew. Only a modest challenge for most serious jugglers, but she was only six, after all! Still, she was a carnie, and it's not like she hadn't been juggling forever...since she was four. For ever! Her eyes danced in delight as the weave took shape, established its rhythm.

The booming, mechanically-tinged voice rang out. Balls hit the floor.

"*****!" she groused, but was too curious to be truly irritated at the disrtaction. What could possibly have such a voice? She scampered towards the front room to see what the fuss was about.

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((OOC)) Lili is Festival (Lili duValle), my "kinetic Carnie" and Ring Mistress of the Carnival of Light SG on Triumph. She is born to a family whose carnie heritage reaches back to the <i>troubadors</i> of medieval France.

This is a delightful idea!

I think I like the apocalyptic scenario (although if the vote goes the other way, I'd like to be a part of that one, too!). It has the potential to become a hurried fight-fest, but considering the sort of writer this idea appeals to, I think that can be avoided.

I've made several attemts in these threads, enjoyed them, but have inevitably closed out my character and left. This has been due partly to the frenzied pace, which I believe is detrimental to good writing. It's also because of the tendency to lapse into a totally fight-oriented situation (and when I want to fight, I'll play the frelling game, thanks!). That leads to a uberness escalation, and the result in many cases has been a loss of the initial vision of the thread (the Hero and Villain 101 threads being prime examples).

Looking forward to this!

You'll be much missed, Cuppa...but this is a lot easier to take knowing the boards are in such good hands. Cricket's a real gem, too.

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the problem is some of us like the PvP and PvE elements combined.

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Wooosh! Right over your head.

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Not really, and you didn't address a single point I made.

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He did, however, make his original point in bolded all-caps, which as we all know makes it MORE TRUER!!

Mrrah'chkkt "Technokitty" Hssihn smiled a polite, close-mouthed smile as the three set to work. She glanced towards Dr. Morse and murmured, "Not a medical doctor...or officially any other sort. But I know primate anatomy and basic biology. And I'm what you might cal la quick study..."

Mrrah'chkkt had allowed the human heroes, better suited physiologically to handle weapons made on a human scale, to take the fight to the monsters. It stuck in her craw like a week-old hairball, but there was no choice, really. Her "fractal box" steadfastly refused to function, and even if it had, she had no confidence the catgirl-scaled pulse rifle it contained would function. Something had hit the higher technology of Paragon City hard, along with suppressing several manifestations of paranormal capabilities.

Whatever it was hadn't seemed to harm the monsters, though, and they were taking a terrible toll on the heroes. Several were down, and badly hurt. Someone has set up a makeshift triage and treatment center...someone familiar.

Mrrah'chkkt "Technokitty" Hssihn's tail twitched in excitement as she scampered towards the little MASH unit. She recognized the Carnival of Light "healing harlequin" Dr. Carli Higgins, with whom she had established a cordial (if completely clandestine) relationship while developing a time-dilating incubator to save one of Carli's troupe's premature kittens...er...babies. Technokitty had learned a great deal about human anatomy and biology in developing the technology...maybe it would be useful here.

As she ran up, the sorrow and strain on Carli's face registered. Her ears went flat. Something was wrong, something that there obviously wouldn't be time to try to help Carli with. She forced her ears up and smiled a greeting as Carli looked up.

"How can I help?" was all she said.

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((ya, taking out a giant monster solo is a bit much))
"What are we gonna do?" yelled darkgun as he dodged another one of krakens attacks. He was getting tired, and they needed to take kraken out soon.

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((OOC - okay, it looks like the Kraken made a miraculous recovery and is still terrorizing Perez park. Please ignore my message to ignore my initial post...or something like that. You know what I mean... ))

Mrrah'chkkt relentlessly pushed down a rising tide of instinctive fear as she sprinted towards a cluster of beleaguered heroes. The looming bulk of the Kraken had caused her hackles to rise and her ears to flatten against her skull. Every instinct told her to flee.

The hell with instinct. There was a job that needed doing. Reason was needed. Intellect was needed. The only real weapons left to most of the people here were their minds. It was the only weapon Technokitty had ever really needed.

A wary eye on the flailing tentacles, she leapt towards the position behind the truck. As she landed, the grim-faced heroes nodded to her, accepting her as one of their own, just like the big man in King's Row had. It amused her, and her ears perked up in spite of themselves.

She noticed one of the heroes holding an assault rifle. His posture indicated no trepidation at using the weapon...but an air of slight unfamiliarity. She glanced down and noticed the selector switch was set to full auto.

"Three shot," she said.

"Esxcuse me?"

"Three-shot burst...the middle setting," Technokitty replied. "At this range, it will be easier to heep your shots on a vital area. You'll still hit it on full-auto...but a lot of the shots will hit where it will barely even notice."

The hero smiled and gestured as if to hand the rifle to her. She returned the smile, politely close-mouthed so as not to bare her fangs. "Oh, no," she protested, "I'm too small. The stock is too long and I wouldn't be able to hold it properly. You'll do much better than me!"

She turned her eyes back on the monster, frantically searching for a way to deal with its rampage.

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Coldfire ran out from behind a tree as kraken backhanded the entire cluster and was launched to the feet of another hero. "Are you Coldfire Kaiser?" he asked. "Yah, and that giant thing is all but unstoppable..."

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((OOC - Um, I'm pretty sure it got stopped three posts up! ))

((OOC - Please ignore my previous post. The Kraken is dealt with, and that was going to be the thrust of Technokitty's participation. I'd kind of thought the idea was to have little or no superpowers to rely on, but I think that's not how the thread's going to go. At least not if that resolution is any indication. Have fun!))

Mrrah'chkkt "Technokitty" Hssihn flattened her ears against her head and crouched lower, thankful for the cover and concelament of the dumpster. She'd bolted into the refuse-strewn alleyway when she spotted the hastily-assembled band of heroes approaching double-time from the head of the block. Headed towards the towering pillar of smoke that maked Terra Volta, no doubt, and probalby too busy to bother with an ailuroform from the Rogue Isles, regardless of how many warrants that catgirl might have outstanding.

Probably. Mrrah'chkkt had never been one to rely on "probably." No, she's always planned carefully. Always devoted a good portion of her incandescent intellect to leaving as little to chance as possible. No, "probably" would never do. She'd let them go by and resume her flight away from what she presumed was a radiactive hell when they were well away.

Her tail twitched in annoyance. Everything had, as was her custom, been planned so carefully. She had delivered the nanofusion attenuators, the product of her remarkable mind (and her growing cutting-edge engineering and fabrication firm, Technokitty Laboratories), to her customer here in Paragon City. Such transactions were, of course, very badly thought of by the authorities in both jurisdicitons. But "heroes" money spent just as well as anyone else's, and besides, she never thought there was anywhere near as much distinction between heroes and villains as some people liked to make out.

She was making her way to the entrance to Pocket D, secure in the knowledge that her thoroughly bogus (but perfect) hero ID would get her through the interdimensional link and back home. She always hated being without her usual escort of combat drones, protector bots, and deadly assault bot - felt naked as a hairless primate without them, in fact - but she was getting used to it. Life was good.

"Was" being the operative term. When the warwalls failed, it had sent a ripple of dread up her spine, her fur standing on end for a moment. Nothing prescient in that: her seemingly innocuous iPod actually contained a broad-range comm scanner, passive wide-spectrum energy emission detector, GPS receiver (and still had room for a good 30gb of tunes...). When whatever happened happened, the little unit just freaked.

She'd known even before she tried that her wrist control unit wasn't going to summon her robotic security...or the "fractal box" on her belt be able to cough up her hot-rodded pulse rifle. And none of that stuff was probably going to work, anyway.

Reaching into a pocket of her black leather jacket for a small piece of smoked salmon, the so-called villain known in the press as "Technokitty" perked up her ears again. The heroes had gone on. The coast was at least relatively clear. She could make her way to the docks, commandeer a small sailboat, and get back to the Isles. She darted out into the street.

And practically ran into another blasted hero! The spandex-clad man-mountain sized her up, made an obvious (and incorrect) assumption about her feline body, and said, "We need your help, little heroine! There's a Kraken rampaging in Perez Park...your claws are some of the best weapons we have left!"

Technokitty blinked in a moment's confusion. Heroine? Help? Claws? She didn't even have claws! She drew in a breath to tell this fool to leave her alone...

And the words caught in her throat. There was something in the man's eyes, a kind of desperation, and a confusion that surely stemmed from someone powerful and capable suddenly being rendered helpless. It struck a chord. She flashed back to her own helpless kittenhood in the labs, a helpless piece of property destined to be disposed of when the experiments concluded. Her desperation to engineer an escape while hiding her intelligence and capabilities from the staff. The fear and uncertainty.

All in an instant, she decided she couldn't flee. Not now. The authorities of two nations considered her a villain. But no one had ever asked her. And she was a cat. She was going to satisfy herself.

She cocked her head to one side, tail lashing furiously. She held up a blunt-fingered hand. "No claws," she replied. "But I have a brain...and it's a pretty good one. I'll think of something...let's go!"

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I got the Mako Pool on my brute so the choices I have are:

Spirit Shark <--- I love the look on it kinda hard to see tho.
School of Sharks <---- Taking this after CHUM SPRAY!!!
CHUM SPRAY!!!!!!!! <--- My reason for taking the pool
Lame pet <--- I refuse to even bother.

You must be thinking about another set.

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They changed its name back to Chum Spray!? O.o

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If they don't, my hairball-hacking brute kitty's not taking it.

Chum Spray or the highway!

"Hey there, thanks for coming to the opening. Are you stayin' for dinner?"

"Staying? No. Returning? Most definitely!" Lili's eyes glittered. "I just made a reservation for 8PM...for a small party from the troupe. We have some things to celebrate...and so do you!"

Festival presented the bottle to Gal. "A little something from me and the Carnival of Light...to celebrate the return of truly fine dining to this part of town." She paused, glancing at the label.

"I feel vageuly disloyal to my homeland, particularly considering that my family hails from the Burgundy region...but this is the finest Pinot Noir I have ever tasted. It is Eugene Wine Cellar's Reserve Cuvee Daoust, the 2001. Not so well known, as it is but a ten-acre vinyard, and the vines are very old. They don't produce a lot of fruit, only 100 cases worth. But what a fruit!"

The gaily-clad Ring Mistress laughed musically. "I ramble, as always. Martin will likely know more of this wine than I do. Please accept it as a token of my appreciation...for your staff to enjoy. Alas, it is the last bottle...perhaps in the world. Drink in soon...it is at its best right now."

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((OOC: I actually have one bottle of the above wine in my very modest little collection...and it may very well be the last one of that year!))

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((OOC: We will assume that Lili's visit was before this encounter, and perhaps concluded just before. Gal is on her way to meet Lili, and K is free to speak to Jenni. I try to keep everyone involved, and realize that some people can only post once a day. No worries, post as you feel, and I will handle the timing. Or, interact and enjoy!))

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((OOC: That works perfectly...I wasn't able to post Lili's reply and request for a reservation in a timely manner, so let's have her in a different area waiting for Gal, where she won't hear Jenni (a close friend and associate) speaking right away.))

Chum Spray or the highway!

"Good evening!" Hard consonants and peculiar pacing in her words gave her immigrant status away. "Welcome to Ladies by the Lake, may I seat you?"

"Ah, not at the moment," Lili replied, smiling. Her own voice still evoked the Old Country, a genteel take on country French. "I am here to make reservations for later in the evening for myself and some friends...and to present to your proprietress a small gift."

She nodded slightly towards the bottle she carried under her arm. "Something with which to celebrate, no?"

Lili "Festival" duValle smiled as she opened the door to Gal's Place and strolled in. It was early, only a few moments after 4PM, and she wasn't hungry. She'd not long before finished a late lunch prepared by Penny "Spotlite" Higgins, the Carnival's former-popcorn-girl-turned-chef (and villain-busting Warshade...but that was another story). But she wasn't here to eat.

She glanced about, looking for Gal or one of the staff, a bottle of wine tucked under her arm.

Lili "Festival" duValle walked down the largely empty street, enjoying herself. The mere fact that she was walking - rather than flying - was a part of the enjoyment. This was a very deliberately chosen day off, a break from worrying about her beloved Carnival. While she loved the view from on high, you tended to miss things from up there. Things like the smell of fresh bread from the boulangerie, like the sound of a saxophonist practicing his jazz chops a couple floors up, like the familiar and somehow reassuring sight of a couple of Hellions trying to break into a car.

Okay, she could do without the latter. Festival walked up behind the oblivious pair and cleared her throat. As expected, the transformation of their expressions from belligerence to round-eyed terror was priceless, and she fought to maintain her stone face. These were simple street thugs, and the sight of a Carnival Ring Mistress with an unamused look on her painted face was clearly not one they were pleased to see.

"Shoo." She waggled her fingers in a dismissive gesture.

Now she could smile, curling the sides of her expressive mouth at the sight of the rapidly receding pair. Then, as her eyes followed the fleeing Hellions, she spotted a familiar storefront. Gal's Place. A sad look replaced the smile.

"I loved that place," Lili mused to herself. "I have no idea why it closed...they were always busy, and for good reason. The food was fabulous, the service perfect, and the wine list! Oh, my!"

Making her way to the storefront, she noticed a light within. Someone was inside. No sign of forced entry, so it was probably someone who belonged. Were they going to re-open? If so would it be the same people who had made the place such a delight before?

"I shall hold out hope," she decided, getting on with her stroll. "And if it is the same people, Lili, you must bring something from your private cellar, a gift with which to celebrate."

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We should all gather together on one server and make a supergroup, hang out etc.

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Why not just copy charcters to Test and hang in Pocket D?

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((Looked like Dollhouse and Julienne were actually starting something. Was trying to insert myself in what looked like a develpoing story but it went no-where. *shrug*))

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(OOC -Yeah...I kinda got left hanging. No biggie: Julienne has a lot of RL stuff going on and is understandibly devoting her limited CoX time to playing the game. No worries...we team together all the time! )

CM: "Hey, there's something familiar about theis Filet o' Fish."

GW: "What are you talking about?"

CM: "Oh, my God! This is Cousin Ernie!"

GW: "You have got to be kidding me."

CM: "No, I'm serious." (starts to cry)

GW: "Forchrissakes. You never liked him, anyway."

CM: "That's...that's beside the point! It's my cousin!"

GW: "Oh, get over it."

CM: "Get over it? How can I get over it? This is my freakin' relative on this bun!"

LR: "Chum Spray!"

GW: "Oh, not this again..."

LR: "Chum Spray!"

Mrrrah'chkkt's tail twitched happily and she purred softly as she was handed the salmon filet. She reached into a pocket of her jacket and produced a business card:

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Technokitty Laboratories
robotics and customized nanotechnological innovations
Mrrrah'chkkt Hssihn, CEO and Chief Engineer
technokitty@scorpweb.org


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She scribbled a cellphone number on the back of the card. "You can reach me any time...and I'll have a lot of questions. I think I can increase the safety of the maturation chamber by adapting the repair nanocelles we use on our combat drones to organic use. That will be elementary, actually...a simple alteration of the firmware to provide maps of organic molecules, integration with the lymphatic system...that sort of thing. It's getting them to survive in the temporal acelleration that will be tricky." More happy twitching of the tail.

"How pleasant! A challenging problem and fresh salmon!" Her expression became suddenly very serious. "We'll save your kitten..."

The catgirl palmed the nugget in a deft motion. Her ears flicked forward and the amber eyes smiled, even if her mouth didn't.

"Not malicious?" she asked. "What you're seeking very well could be, you know. A maturation chamber...off-grid power...growth hormone...all the makings of a clandestine bioweapon project."

She held up a hand to prevent Carli's objection.

"But if that is so, it is your affair, of interest to me only if your weapons threaten my home. And if occurs to me that there may be another reason the reknowned Dr. Higgins would need these things." Mrrrah'chkt gave a chortling purr as Carli quirked an eyebrow. "Your work in the Isles...in the Bay in particular...is known to some, and much appreciated. Isles technology is formidible, and our medical care can be superb. But only at a cost, and so many cannot afford it. Your work has saved many who would otherwise have done without. Maybe some of my kind, even."

The ailuroform paused, taking a sip of her milk & Bailey's. Then she nodded, as if reaching a decision.

"I will produce what you need. The power supply is a simple matter...I can adapt the nanofusion ractor from one of our assault drones. The nugget you gave me will obtain the growth hormone from...unusual sources I have access to. I think I could develop a hormone synthesis array..but I presume time is a factor, su purchasing the real thing is the only choice.

"The maturation chamber is the sticking point. Arachnos versions are usable and not so terribly difficult to obtain. But I find them unreliable. Arachnos accepts a rather high percentage of "wastage" in their cloning and genetic alteraton projects. I presume your standards in this regard are higher. I'd prefer to develop an alternative. And I can.

"I've been pondering some ramifications of the translocation technology, the 'teleporters.' Instantaneous alteration of spatial coordinates also implied alteration of spacetime coordinates. I believe it's possible to alter only the temporal component, leaving the other loci unchanged. I also believe it's possible to create divergences in relative movement along the temporal axis...to 'speed up time,' as it were, by a factor of slightly over four for the area of effect and available power we're discussing."

She paused. "I ramble. What I believe I can provide is a maturation chamber that is more reliable thanthe Arachnos versions...and one which will reduce the incubation period by a factor of four, in conjunction with the growth hormone. I'll need three days and considerable medical input. Can you give me both?"

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"If only I had access to some Isles Technology."

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"That is a wish that can come true."

The voice was a mellifluous, lilting soprano, its sibilants liquid and its enunciation careful, as if the speaker were taking special care to be understood in a language not her own. Yet the accent was pure Roguw Isles. Carli turned, surprised to be liiking straight into the eyes of someone as diinutive as she was.

That was odd, but far from the oddest thing about the speaker. The eyes into which she looked were a deep amber, the pupils slitted., The face was a mask of glossy ebon fur, with a striking starlike pattern around the right eye. Her very human 'wedge' haircut was somehao all the more strange-looking for the pair of catlike ears protruding from it.

The ailuroform wore a black leather motorcycle jacket (of all things!), a black pleated skirt worn over black and white striped tights. And a pair of Converse. Chuck Taylors.

Not at all sure of how to respond, Carli simply waited for the catgirl to continue. She didn't have long to wait.

"My name is Mrrrah'chkt Hssihn...and I would like to know just what sort of Isles technology interests you." Her speech held none of the common oddities associated with catgirls, none of the broken syntax, the confusion over personal pronouns. The catlike face was mobile and alert. "I might be able to be of some assistance...if the price is right."