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Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry Wayne

Behind the scenes, while Meg wails away on her guitar, Sherry talks with the increasingly frustrated members of Habitats.

"Listen! They're here for you, right? You're the anchor, everyone's been waiting for you! What's two minutes?" She calls out high and clear, just loud enough to be heard over the music. Fortunately, the speakers are turned the other way.

"I understand! Swear, three minutes and I'll get the hook myself!" Sherry flashes a smile and throws her hands up in a theatrical shrug.

Fortunately, it doesn't take that long for Meg to wind up and wend her way offstage. Sherry is already there, giving Konnie a dubious look.

Regarding the guitar she tells Konnie, "To your specifications. With that set of forks we picked up at that creepy old music shop before we left New York. Twice." She doesn't suggest using one of those electronic tuning doohickeys she saw in one of those trade magazines. That didn't go over that great the last time. She smiles again. "Trust me, you sounded great."

---
pre:
Sherry's Facebook Profile Picture


Approaches:

Careful      [+4]
Clever       [+4]
Flashy       [+3]
Forceful     [+2]
Powers       [+2]
Quick        [+3]
Sneaky       [+1]

Refresh: 3/3

Aspects:

**Denote which Aspect is tagged to your Drive**

High Concept: Super-Temp
- Invoke: Collating, cross-referencing, compositing, organizing. Reading and
writing shorthand, operating everything in the office from the copier to the
phones. Jill-of-All-Trades
- Compel: When the numbers don't add up, when things demand to be sorted.

Sherry pushes, files, stamps, indexes, briefs, debriefs, and numbers. When data
needs mining, she brings her own hard-hat. She is the Mary Poppins of office
work, less the carpet bag and creepy umbrella.
She's picked up a lot of minor incidental skills and bits of lore, like what 'PC
Load Letter' means and how to dispel it, and (from one particularly strange
assignment) how to drive forklift.
Most importantly, she has the organizational skills to herd cats and organize a
piss-up in a dry county.

Origin: Self-Actualizing Narrative
- Invoke: Capitalizing on tropes, stirring the troops, serendipity
- Compel: high emotions and high drama, being manipulated by the tropes,
weirdness magnet

Sherry believes in the power of stories, and stories believe in her. Cinderella,
The New Colossus, the Sorcerer's Apprentice, they're reflections of forces and
themes that have shaped human history. Sherry's abilities and her unfortunate
history are both manifestations of this, fictional forces and drives manifesting
in reality.

Trouble: Another Pretty Face
- Invoke: Dazzlin', Underestimable, Honest Face
- Compel: Going Incognito; 'Friendly' Drunks

Sherry's value to her old employers was twofold: not only was she a drat fine
secretary, she made for drat pretty office furniture too. Working for powerful
men, who preferred their women to be quietly decorative and whose HR departments
were more accurately connections with the bricklayers' union, Sherry learned to
fake being quiet and even to play dumb, though it rankles her. She still has
trouble with the kind of person who thinks intelligence is inversely
proportional to physical attractiveness.

Signature Power: Prehensile Hair
- Invoke: Grappling, flaxen knuckles, climbing
- Compel: Distinctive, traditional hair frailties

Sherry's primary power is a form of limited psychokinesis. Weirdly limited
psychokinesis. She can animate her hair, with control going down to single
strands, imbuing it with tensile strength in the range of spider silk and
allowing it to grow at an astonishing rate. Being hair, it's vulnerable to
cutting, burning and the usual host of mistreatments, and when it gets wet
moving it becomes an effort like walking in thick, waterlogged clothing. Even
when she isn't using it as a blunt instrument or a dozen extra hands, its sheer
mass makes her stick out.

Basket Weaving
- Invoke: Protective cocoon, parachute, shopping bag, web belts
- Compel: Obvious, paper vs scissors, bad hair days

Telekinetically imbued, Sherry's hair has defensive capacities as well as
offensive ones. By weaving strands together, she can form protective cocoons
that are stronger than Kevlar, and parachutes that operate more under the
auspices of telekinesis and wishful thinking than traditional physics. Makes a
dandy knapsack, too. Limited utility against cutting implements, and if she has
a nasty case of the frizzies then there's nothing she can do with it.

Making Amends
- Invoke: Helping friends and people who need a boost; sniffing out underhanded
bullshit
- Compel: When she's found underhanded bullshit, or when she really should leave
well enough alone.

Sherry has never done anything really bad, and while she has worked for some
dangerous, scummy people in the past she was always unaware of things behind the
scenes. Regardless, a sense of guilt underlies the frustration of discovering
she was working for mobsters again, a feeling that if she had been more
observant, or didn't let a need for employment cloud her common sense, she might
have... she doesn't know. Then? Probably disappeared into Witness Protection, or
just plain disappeared. Now? Now that she has super powers, and friends with the
same, maybe she can balance things out. While she's always interested in helping
out, her experience with the personalities behind organized crime gives her a
sharpened edge when dealing with the same. Old Man Witherspoon had better hang
up that lousy ghost costume before the crew rolls into town.

Aspect Name
- Invoke: Words
- Compel: Words

Description

Stunts:

Rolodexterity
Sherry's worked for mobsters, been detected by cops, worked with the Sheriffs
and generally accrued enough contacts that the NSA probably has an entire
department assigned to her phone. If somebody needs something, she can usually
pull a string with someone.

Absolutely Fabulous
So often being used as arm candy for one boss or another has put Sherry in
contact with a wide variety of in-demand fashion designers. Costuming is never
an issue, with a little bit of warning. Context is another matter.

Stunt Name
Description
Refresh: 4/3

Bieeanshee fucked around with this message at 05:36 on Nov 20, 2014

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Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Laughing, Sherry raises her hands to ward off the air-poking. "All right, give me a few, give me a few! Might need to check Facebook to see if someone back home knows someone out here who's going to something, but I know I've heard about a few post-gig parties out there." She wafts hands to either side, indicating the global 'out there'. "Just gimme a few minutes."

Sherry turns to leave, and stops.

"If you can find me someone named Alberto, who comes in bottles and sits silently on the edge of an enormous tub, I'll love you forever. People back here took the no smoking signs as a personal challenge. Ugh."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry works her new smartphone with zeal, turning it back and forth, tapping icons, and swiping things back and forth. And then she finishes playing a round of Angry Birds and gets to checking her hotspot apps. Of course there are still things like FourSquare, but they don't really track people-- not beyond a really simple, concrete level. 'How many people are where' is a useful metric, but it's only one when you're skimming social media for developing trends instead of established ones.

Tip, tip. The thing's fine with her using a fingernail to navigate, but not a strand of hair. Silly, really, since they're made of the same stuff. A shank of hers surreptitiously ruffles Meg's as the shorter girl comes to peek over her shoulder.

"Bars, bars, bars, clubs, clubs," she replies, then adds, "So I'm still like another sister, only one who's awesome and that you never had?"

Sherry skims her fingernail around the screen in vague loops. "They're all dead or overcrowded, and everybody leaving here is going to make that worse or go home, by the looks of things. Got something here, opening night at an art gallery. That won't close for a while, no matter what the page says, and you sometimes get an after-after party when the manager really needs to close."

"Only problem is, they're usually filled with people who like to think they know about art."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry wafts her free hand dismissively, ignoring the tit-for-tat going on right behind her. "Put on a little black dress, some heels, draw your hair back and practice looking bored. You'll fit right in."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Having spent the set out from under the hot stage lights, the worst Sherry has to worry about post-concert is the faint and fading scent of fake fog. That and getting something nice on for the after-party she's (ahem) invited herself and the group to. It's not that late, so finding a burger shop with a clean bathroom to change in isn't a huge problem. It doesn't hurt that she gets a sammich to go, a sacrifice to the glovebox god. Or Jules, whoever's hungrier.

Now, while Konnie has made a lot of loud statements about making absolutely certain that Meg hasn't packed one of her mirror dresses, going so far as to threaten to destroy it and to hell with bad luck, nobody's thought to check Sherry's trunks. Someone might get an impression that something unusual is up if they caught the way the dry-cleaning bag she carries into the joint jingles faintly as she walks. The contents are much quieter when she's wearing them.



...auditorily speaking, at least.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

After holding it in until Konnie's out of earshot, Sherry lets herself have a quiet laugh under the cover of a hand over her mouth. "I couldn't resist, when she started going, 'No mirrors, no mirrors! Raah!' Friend Karen had this thing sitting around, drawing dust like nothing else, and she let me borrow it. Mission accomplished."

Sherry's body language is demure, refined even, despite her brazen garb, the quietly murmured suggestion not to pay her any mind that doesn't often get heeded. It's easier in these sorts of environments, she's found: everyone's already up someone else's butt, or has clinical amounts of something up their nose. She drifts around the first floor, looking at the photos, but they say little to her. She's attended galleries before, usually on the arm of someone with a colourful epithet, but has never had much of a chance to develop a strong understanding of art.

Of course, part of that carefully cultured placidity is thanks to the telltale tickle of another supernatural in the vicinity. Meeting the Sheriffs had been a stroke of luck. Not knowing how things are arranged here, she's inclined to be on the cautious side. Meanwhile, the others are doing their own far less cautious things upstairs. After shaking her head at the collection of purported bodily secretions, she follows them up.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

As the crowd parts around her like courtiers for a Cinderella, Sherry begins to remember why friends don't let friends dress alone. Or was it that fashion is no laughing matter? Either way, it's probably a faux pas to attract more attention than the art in a gallery, and what was intended as a private joke is shining right in the public eye. Not even a tarp to veil herself with again!

There's always-- no. You grin (or smile demurely) and bear it, and if Karen ever hears a hint that you thought about sneaking back to the van to change into something else you'll never hear the end of it. Unfortunately for Sherry, the 'you' in question, there isn't time to think far beyond that before encountering someone who isn't merely content to murmur and keep at arm's length from the art.

Sherry isn't in much of a position to criticize the artist's fashion choices, though one might wonder how many leopards died of embarrassment for that shirt. She assesses him quickly as he approaches, feeling for a moment like she might have in times before, a bit of arm-candy turned football, waiting to be picked up by another player.

Good shape, touch of grey. Possibly older than he looks, but confident enough that he hasn't dyed it. Dressed as he is, and with his profession, he probably isn't interested in the supposed gravitas a stripe of steel offers. The staticky buzz of the supernatural helps keep her from startling when he immediately makes reference to stage lights and smoke, and while she tries not to think about the events of earlier, anyone can tell you how hard it is to specifically not think of something. She tries not to, anyway: Foursquare, Burger Shack, here. Doubtless he can sense her too; hopefully this won't be some kind of fencing match.

Outwardly, Sherry laughs and smiles lightly, tilting her head down, lifting her shoulders slightly. "This is the only thing I could find that wasn't beginning to rust, but I think I should have given it a coat or two of dulling spray now that I'm here," she jokes. "Sherry, and I'm having a lovely evening now that I'm here." She gestures around. "Are all of these your pieces?"

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry 'ahs' and smiles and looks over to the paintings with polite enthusiasm. "I'm sorry, I didn't have time to read the exhibitors' plaques. Congratulations!"

Glancing down at herself, primarily to refresh herself on which way the points on her bracers go, Sherry smiles and hums uncertainly. "I should probably borrow a sheet, in that case. I don't think I prepared myself for being remembered as a blonde Grace Jones impersonator," she chuckles.

"Mm? Oh, out from New York originally, just passing through. Thought it would be nicer to take in a bit of culture instead of spraining elbows in a bar this late in the evening."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry keeps from snorting at the last moment. It wouldn't do, looking all ersatz-ladylike like she does at the moment, so she substitutes a light laugh instead.

"Mysterious? No, I don't have enough to be mysterious about! Nondescript?" Something about her goes 'tinkle'. "No. Maybe a little evasive, but I think everybody is when they meet somebody for the first time and get that weird little buzz. Or I could be internalizing what Grandma told me about artists." She smiles, genuinely, but looks lost for a moment.

"Others? Sorry, I thought I mentioned. There's a handful of us here tonight. I just thought it'd be nice to go somewhere quiet to unwind."

This is about where Meg's MOTHERFUCKER rings out.

Sherry winces. "That'd be Meg. She's sweet, but... short attention span. Closest she gets to the wheel is shotgun."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"I'm in it more for the warmth than the sparks. Straightening my hair's enough without even more entanglements," Sherry chuckles. So, either she misread him or he's dodging her attempt at addressing things metaphorically. Either way, better to play things safe.

"I guess. Don't want anyone to get off on the wrong foot because... that's just what they did. You know?" She smiles. "We are guests. But performance art's still..." Sherry pauses, searching for a word, searching for... oh good, there's Jules. "Intentional, right?"

---
Sorry for the slow posts, first week back at work and it's been a rough transition.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

It's begun to dawn on Sherry that Paul the Artist may just be an artist. Well, 'just'. If someone is putting a power on somebody else, would it... show? It's a good question. If he isn't just playing hard-to-metaphor, she's glad to have resisted an urge to just cut to the chase. That kind of misunderstanding would have led to some terrible awkwardness, to say the least.

"No harm, no foul," she nods, having not yet overheard the rising snide elsewhere in the room. "Not like someone cracked open that jar of supermodel wind."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"Doesn't some of that depend on what the buyer's getting out of it?" Sherry asks. "I've been to galleries before, but I'll be honest: I don't know much about art. I can recognize Picasso, or Mondrian, and I can tell you that Pollock's important but I can't tell you why. I can tell you I saw a grown man burst into tears the second he saw a couple of lines scribbled on a men's room stall divider."

"Maybe whoever bought the bottle remembers that the emperor's naked, and wanted in on the gag. Maybe they've created a story for themselves about the deep meaning of a mislabeled vase filled with stale air. Or maybe they haven't remembered that the emperor has no clothes, and they're afraid of looking as ignorant as everyone else is."

---
The fellow who broke down over the bathroom poetry is based on one of my old literary theory and criticism profs. His boyfriend wasn't impressed when he brought the big effin' wall home with him that night, or when he learned that the artist had been paid good money for it. :)

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Argh! That was the one course I couldn't find my notes for, and I'm certain I wrote it down on the first day. I'm half way tempted to e-mail my old prof and ask him. :P

Sherry

Sherry visibly concentrates as she wracks her brain for that message she saw, and is just as visibly frustrated as she shakes her head in defeat.

"I can't remember, sorry. I know I wanted to take a closer look, but I guess it didn't affect me the way it did him. Something about loneliness. Something short. Something like what you might expect a philosopher to write, sitting and thinking, isolated in a public place."

Something unlike what they've found scribbled on the walls of Pompeii, but anyway.

Sherry makes an odd face. "Speaking of philosophy, that was awfully maudlin for a dry night. Sorry about that. Anyway!" She gestures toward the vase, bracer sparkling.

"Who knows what the buyer's getting out of it? Make up your own story. It isn't going to hurt anyone."

"And..." she smiles. "I think that's what art is to me. Something you can't just get out of your head with conversation. Something that can stick around for a while so you can come back for another look."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"So there's some 'reason' for art right there. Or stories. Or leaving a big mark on history."

Sherry's eye twitches as Meg cries out elsewhere in the room.

"Or having kids, some people say. Totally unrelated, I should go make sure my friends aren't going to get us kicked out of the city."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Bad me, I'm sorry. I've been suffering the lousy kind of RL distractions since the end of last month.

Sherry

"Oh yeah, Philly's a big girl. I just worry about ongoing impressions. Musicians, you know." Sherry turns her hands up and flashes a smile.

The after-party seems to be turning into an after-after-party, and the attempt to disengage that Sherry inwardly tags as awkward seems to have been unnecessary. The others are going upstairs, and so too seems Paul.

Sherry follows upstairs to the roof, where the more muted lights and open skies make the glitter of her dress a rival to the few stars visible from downtown. She moves over to one of the railings, content to breathe deep of the city noise and 'fresh' air for a few moments.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry, beered!

"Meg! Thanks!" She grins and lifts the bottle in a toast, then puts some effort into getting the top twisted off.

"I heard you downstairs. You didn't do anything I'll need to run interference for, did you?"

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Dismantling whats? Sherry takes a quick drink, in hopes of chasing away the memory of having heard that.

"Hm? Oh, that's Paul. He's over there. One of the artists with pieces downstairs."

Grooving? Sherry rolls her eyes, but keeps from scoffing aloud. It's quiet up here, no need to risk hurting the guy's feelings.

"He's a nice guy. We talked about art, mostly. Him, a little upset someone actually bought the supermodel gas. Me, saying I don't know much about art, but thinking different people got different things out of it. You know."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

She should have bought earplugs. Really, managing a rock band you'd think she'd have an endless supply, a bag that retches them up like a mad LARPer's pouch produces gold coins. It would have made trying not to listen for sounds that she really didn't want to hear from the next bunk over that much easier. Whew. Sleep she did, and noises she can't remember, though that must have been the lumpiest mattress she'd ever encountered.

Ugh. Next time, she'll have to think really hard about trading off a few bucks for a few winks. Somewhere that was a little more comfortable might have saved them a lot of stiffness and slow going this morning.

"Wasn't happy about it either," Sherry grunts, sipping the last cooling inch of her coffee. "But it was that or a bunch of little bars where the hills have eyes. Probably would have lost money doing that, and we'd miss this one too."

Ugh, what a lousy night. Sherry's hair feels as bad as the rest of her somehow, and that's a lot to feel bad with.

"We'll make it. Meg might have to do the final equipment checks herself, but we'll make it."

"Keep an eye on the speed limit. Some of these little places make their whole budget on speed traps, and we can't afford the time or the fine."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

With a grunt, Sherry turns and twists, managing far enough to see the back of the van. "It's... in the file box. Lousy copy of an official plan view with power and A/V hookups marked, but no signs of what's on which circuit. There's a few printouts of pictures I talked someone there into taking too."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"See what I can do, Kon," Sherry replies blandly, fishing around for her smartphone. She was on the verge of getting a tablet once, when she realized that the things don't react to hair the way they do fingertips. Dreams of labour saved, shattered. Playing with Eliza's was a fun distraction from miles and miles of corn, though they had to lean together to watch the screen.

"Skipping any Greek houses, unless there's strenuous objection. I don't feel like getting pawed at." Not that she's ever seemed to. "If there is, I'll camp out in the van."

Spiders from beyond? Sherry looks over at Eliza. "If you find another one of those funnels, find out if they've got a line to David Bowie. An unexpected duet would knock the band into orbit."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"Just saying, I've heard Greek houses are the best place to find booze." By volume, maybe. "I'll take them off the list entirely."

In a show of solidarity, Sherry drags a crate of cables out and starts carting it off toward the hall, though she moves with a wobbly gait with half her attention on her phone. "Hello? Yes, this is Sherry Walsh, Gypsy Widow's manager. Yes, we're here! Just completing setup now, yes. Lovely campus you've got here..."

---
Woo, Fate points! Go Eliza!
(Noted mine on the first page.)

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Electrical's hooked up, tested out and gaffered down. Instruments are in tune and in place. Band isn't too drunk to perform, and the locals aren't being a pain in the rear end. Sure they cut it close, but the performance is going to be fantastic. Of course, that's only part of the equation.

Sherry isn't wearing the sparkle-dress, but she still cuts a striking figure over by the merch and munch kiosks. The sweet spot for selling will be right after the performance, when everyone's pumped, a little tired, and not worrying about where they'd stash their new loot, but it can't hurt to prime them a little before the show.

"Hey, everybody, welcome to history, don't forget to get your piece! We've got tees, hats, hoodies, CDs..." Sherry barks like a ringmistress, pausing to lift up a foam cylinder marked with the Gypsy Widow logo. "...Beer cozies? Who ordered beer cozies? Who uses beer cozies? I think my grandma used to knit these things!" Over her shoulder it goes, into a modest pile of the same. They tend to sell pretty well; a little irony goes a long way.

---
Flashy +3 to draw attention to herself and the merch before and after the performance. This way to the great egress folks, right through the gift boutique!

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Those are energy domes, not pails, dagnabbit!

Sherry

"This? Thanks! Huh? Buckets of conditioner. I have a wok for hot oil treatments."

Sherry talks while the others rock, eye out for officials or trouble. At least the band aren't the opening number this time. Keeping the next group from staging a battle royale of the bands had been pretty dicey.

Still stationed by the merch and refreshments, she's pretty sure the co-ed admiring her hair isn't chatting her up. She's heard stories about college though.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry needs assistants. Filthy ones, preferably. She's taking bills and making change fast enough that she's beginning to think she's the Rain Man, and there's an itchy urge to put her hair to good use. That's one of the things she misses about being back in New York: the life she's leading right now is just so public; there have been few moments where she's been able to make meaningful use of her strange talent, or not keep herself from doing so by accident.

On the other hand, the band is busy and out of trouble. And drat, but the merch is moving! At this rate, she'll have to start pointing people toward the website and hope the buying impulse lingers.

"Location!" Sherry grins at Konnie, hooking a thumb at the nearby refreshments kiosk. "And word of mic." That's with a tilt of her head toward the stage. Taking stock of the... stock, she leans up against a shelf and reaches over into a crate. "We even moved a bunch of those beer cozies. Huh!"

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

The band's manager-slash-barker beams at Jules. "Even more public facing than I'm used to, but I'm happy! If we keep this up-- if you keep this up, that is. I'm not the one working my butt off on stage."

Melanie appears. She and Sherry have e-mailed more than spoken, but she seems like a nice person. Bubbly. Infectiously so. Sherry smiles to her briefly, then turns to help a customer while the others 'deliberate' on attending the frat party. She... eh... if worse comes to worst, Sherry can beg off to do inventory.

"I'm game, if the offer includes crew."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

At the party, Sherry slots neatly into the role of That Girl. She's the one who's drifted away from or been ditched by her friends, and while eye-catchingly pretty seems to hover a fraction of an inch away from everything, buffered by uncertainty and unfamiliarity. That isn't to say she has been, but when you're on the sidelines and trying to find a spot in the metaphoric space of a party filled with strangers, that's been going on for a while, edges get clipped off fitting square pegs into oblong holes.

It's also the kind of role that puts half the guys at arm's length, makes hair care the focus of conversations again and again, and has the other half of Team Dudebro offering to refresh her drink every time she takes a sip. She sips sparingly; the beer might be recycled piss, but they mix the harder stuff strong enough to give a horse pause. If she lets her hair down too far, it might get her into mischief she wouldn't care to explain.

Later, in the back of the van, Sherry's trying to clear her head and transcribe her chicken-scratch shorthand into a more permanent record. There's the night's income, which she counts twice thanks to a couple of bills being stuck together, and the numbers on merchandise sold, which eventually correlate with the former once she's chewed through stacks of addition, and then there's the opened boxes of merchandise to inventory. In a perfect world that would add up too, forming a neat mathematical jigsaw puzzle, but 'shrink' happens. A loud, intermittently dark space filled with a churn of people and band memorabilia make that kind of thing that much easier.

Of course, Sherry's mentally counting through a box of those stupid beer cozies when all Hell breaks loose. Foam rubber tubes go flying like the contents of a novelty tin of peanut brittle.

"What the? Oh god. Tell me that wasn't a cyclist!" Or a car. Paying off the damages on one of the vehicles they've recently driven past would put the band in hock until it was time for a reunion tour.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Okay. All the fingers? All the toes? Okay.

Sherry turns carefully. Nothing hurts more than it did before. So that's good. Shaken, but not scrambled.

There's more shouting. That's... probably a good sign, all told. Sherry undoes her seatbelt (thank god for nanny state-ism) and rearranges herself to face front.

"Girls? Girls! Deep breaths. Non-alcoholic fluids. Are you two okay?"

Sherry casts an inexpert eye over the unhelpful topography of the van's interior, then peers out through the windshield in vain hopes of seeing what's going on outside.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Someone's hurt? Oh, Christ.

And then, through that noise and that panic, there's that tickle. Sherry takes a deep breath and buries her face in the nearest headrest.

"How goddamn many of us are there?"

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"Konnie, you're still drunk. Get out of my top."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"There's a little Konnie in everything," Sherry mutters. Unfortunately, the only way to get out of that fog is to get out of the van, so she reluctantly finds her way to the nearest door and lets herself out.

Outside, particularly sharp ears might pick up on her muttering an 'oh, god'.

Jules is not drunk. Hung over maybe, but not drunk. Sherry knows this because if she had any inkling that he was, she'd have hidden the keys... and then Meg would have snagged them from her, run back to New York and rifled every pocket she owns for good measure, and given them right back to him. Her style sense isn't moaning about wrinkles, ergo Jules is hung over at worst. Which doesn't explain why it looks like they rear-ended a couple, unless one of them engages in recreational invisibility.

Sherry's first impulse is to check on the crying woman, but she's familiar with the possessive/protective streak boyfriends get when they're angry. The young woman looks mostly shaken up, regardless. Motorcycle? Sherry looks around for signs of whatever the hell it is they hit. The crying one probably would have been on the back. God drat it.

"Okay. Before anybody goes to jail, does anybody need an ambulance?" the blonde calls out. There. Voice of reason. Responsibility. Sympathy. Maybe a hint of skepticism, which troubles her on a level that's trying to get some more sleep.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Nope, this telepathy thing is never going to stop feeling odd, like a radio in the cleft down the middle of her brain announcing itself by suddenly surfing channels.

Sherry tries to stuff as much meaning as she can into the glance she sends back Jules's way. The Buzz? she tries thinking loudly, framed with images of a dark-haired man with a ponytail and impossibly concealed katana and, weirder still, a flash of the Queen of Hearts from the old Disney adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. One of you is a magnet, I swear.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"That's two from you, so here's two from me," Sherry interjects, gazing blandly off down the street. "First: never make a threat that you can't back up. Verbally extorting a bunch of A/V nerds in this age of pocket phones, dash cams and streaming video isn't as good an idea as it used to be. Public street. No expectation of privacy." Something in the blonde's pocket emits a soft tone.

"Second: this grift is a lot safer with a dog. A dog will put its life on the line for you, above and beyond jumping in front of a car, if things go bad. Dogs don't usually do messy breakups either, Old Yeller and Cujo notwithstanding. Not that I'm implying anything about either of you, and I'm sure you have more in common than meets the eye, but it's a lot easier to make a person talk than it is a dog. Not that the scam is safe: sooner or later, someone's going to keep driving over you, or the people with a real financial interest in tourists and drive-throughs are going to find out, and you'll end up doing five to ten at the bottom of the river."

"So. Seriously. What do you need money for so badly that you're willing to risk killing yourselves over a few bucks? We're a small-time band. If you had got anything out of us, it wouldn't be worth a hospital stay or worse. You only get that for playing speedbump for Aerosmith."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

"I meant what I said," Sherry says, looking sidelong at Sandy. "I don't know how much he was acting, but I've seen guys do some really iffy things when their egos start bleeding out. Not saying you don't know what you're doing, but sometimes they crack when you least expect it."

There's an urge to ask questions, like why stay in a hateful place when you've already made so much money, but Sherry has a few guesses and really isn't sure she wants any of them confirmed. Instead, she turns toward Meg.

"Jules is right, we've got another gig soon and we should get on the road. We all know what happens when people start showing off, too. And I for one don't want to get involved with something that could put us really behind schedule. I got away from that once."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Jules is right, but Konnie is even more right, and Sherry's annoyance turns inward.

"Yes. There's a reason people haven't caught on that people who can do things exist, and it isn't because everyone is sneaky and clever, or because creepy government offices steal people out of their beds."

The blonde gestures to the site of the 'accident'. "This is clever. It's a classic grift, but it suffers the problem all of them do: The more people you get, the more likely two of them are going to get together, and that snowballs. It's worse if one sees you the next day, without a scratch. Not because they'll notice you, or your gift, but because... it's weird. Weirder than having a conversation like this."

"Honestly? If I could screw with people's heads, or bounce back from bouncing off their windshields, I probably would have. Not a lot of options when you get turfed at sixteen. I'm not sure what happened was safer than it might have been."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

A little booze, a little bravado...

Dear, you're the one who's...

Sherry's beginning to suspect the Dark's evolutionary function, if not its genesis.

In light of her duties as empathy coach, she remains silent. There's only so much you can say to a self-made statistic, and her own well is starting to hit dry clay.

Edit: Got my hands full with a hardware thing right now, but going to make a relenting post ASAP.

Bieeanshee fucked around with this message at 14:51 on Apr 9, 2015

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Or not.

"Yeah, but guilt is corrosive. You get a few of those chuckleheads together somewhere they feel safe, the beer starts flowing, and the damnedest things start falling out of their mouths. Or the guy at the body shop reports the damage to the cops. The bank reports suspicious activity on one of those PINs Broseph forked over. Cops might get involved, more likely a PI. Daddy's lawyers will keep Junior out of jail."

"Meanwhile, people hear thuds, squealing tires and shouting, because it can be hard to sleep when people are partying. Someone happens to have their phone when they're peeking out the window. Say it happens a fraction of the time. Cops are still going to be curious after the second or third time, though they'll probably just crack down on the drunks."

"What I'm leading to is a lot simpler and scarier: people hate a show-off. Some guy starts flying around downtown? People are going to rationalize it, maybe it's a special effect, maybe they imagined it, but subconsciously they'll be shouting 'that's impossible!' If enough people see it, something wakes up, something that will do its best to kill him... and even if he's the second coming of Superman, it will probably do it. We found that out the hard way."

"You don't need any scared straight poo poo, and I really don't give a drat about the richlings you've been ambushing --though seriously, careful with your fella-- but it sounds like you've pulled this often enough that getting caught could bring the boogeyman down on your head."

"I know it sounds ridiculous. Take it as you will."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

So. Are we all happy, or at least all worn down by the arguing? Sherry realizes that she is, as she looks around at the others.

"Pizza sounds good," she nods, avoiding the topic of toppings for fear of fueling another argument, and silently hoping that things actually do work out from here.

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Sherry shakes her head. "Nuh-uh. I'll bitch and guilt people into going straight and narrow, because I've seen things get real in a flash, but that's where I draw the line. Becoming a vigilante or an... ambassador's a personal decision."

Mmm, delicious Hawai'ian pizza. Sherry digs into hers, meditating on its hammy goodness, until their guest does that trick with her hand. For a moment, swallowing gets 'up' and 'down' confused.

"Jesus," she mutters, glancing away and wincing. "Mountains. Recover quick if you take a spill, and you don't need to worry about finding out if you can drown."

Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

Touring as a small-time band is like climbing a ladder to the roof of a house... only you have to build the ladder first, and each rung is a venue. And sometimes you scavenge some really solid wood, like Baltimore, and sometimes you get some rotten poo poo, like this analogy.

DC isn't much better.

Sherry's mantra for this leg of the tour is 'it was the best I could find', and she's repeated it often enough to achieve Nirvana... if the urge to kill that micromanaging prick wasn't keeping her chained to the physical world. He was middle management in a previous life, and probably earlier in this one before... buying this dive in a mid-life fit, or something. 'Dear'. 'Honey'. She's heard it all before, from deeply gross, corrupt people, but coming from this twerp it makes her fantasize that they'd set aside the money for that fire-breathing guitar for Meg. Strike a blow for drinking and music! ...Get sent up the river for a while, but well.

The rare people who come over to the merch display are more interested in chatting her up than buying... which, to be mercenary about it, is part of the reason why Sherry does double-duty back there. Few of them are enthusiastic enough to buy anything more than a beer cozy.

Place is as lively as a carbon monoxide leak, she thinks to herself. As that oppressive vibe begins to spread through the bar, Sherry realizes reality might be even more dangerous. She doesn't have Konnie's eyes, but she's a decent judge of body language and has... not the absolute worst view of the venue. With few customers, she has the opportunity to watch the crowd for possible sources of badness.

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Bieeanshee
Aug 21, 2000

Not keen on keening.


Grimey Drawer
Sherry

It's... not the most exciting gig from Sherry's end, no offense to the band. The venue's twitching at best, which means she can't really go into her harangue without cutting into the music... and she was given explicit instructions from the site's manager not to do that kind of thing anyway. He probably thinks she's competition for people's food funds. Jerk.

With little else to do and that uneasy feeling of malevolence drifting around the place like a bad smell, Sherry lets her attention 'boredly' wander about the venue. Her first thought, upon spotting the trio near the back is, are those Feds? She dismisses it immediately: the Feds she's met were all very familiar with social environments.

Are they Mormons? Glance away, don't stare too long. Stare into the abyss and it stares back and things get awkward. Not Mormons, not even the ones she heard about on TV once, kicked out of fundamentalist compounds and stuck negotiating the fallen world. There's uncertainty, but no... anxiety.

There's something almost infantile about them. Not in the smiling Buddha baby sense, but the wide-eyed way babies seem to absorb everything they can possibly encompass with their senses. At least these ones aren't putting anything but food in their mouths. They never talk with one another. They never look at one another, and when one moves the others shift to cover the new blind spot. It's like dancing, the slow, intricate kind. That, or the workings of one of those fancy mantle clocks.

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