Chiyako

Would I now make a roll of Truth + Carlo (she name dropped him and his knowledge of the auditorium)? Or should I wait?

When the gloved hand of one Missy Fisher touched upon Alicia's back there was an immediate reaction: a faint twitch of her shoulders and a rush of heat to her face, heat which traveled further up and collected within the tips of her slightly pointed ears. That at least was concealed by the hat, and the hint of fluster within her cheeks was directed towards the corpse. Affection was not something she experienced often, not even the little gestures that might otherwise come normally to others. She did not bring attention to it. By the time she had straightened up the signs had all but disappeared. It did at least allow her to offer a slight, genuine smile to Missy. "I am unscathed. Thank you." While investigation into the escape of the murderer commenced Alicia was offered a clean white handkerchief and a smile by one of the people she was most wary of: Edmund Blackwood. He had not wronged her in any manner. In fact his actions now were, as far as she knew, more or less on brand. He was a man who did not appear to be someone she needed to distrust. Her wariness was simply a matter of precaution, for Edmund was rumored to be a man gifted with the ability to seduce the hearts of others. That being one of her personally established weaknesses made him a threat, even if he did not know it. All that being true, her hesitation to accept the gift existed for another reason. The blood on my hands alone will ruin the handkerchief. A shame. Although perhaps an experiment presents itself. I could test some solvents. She struggled to hold the same smile she had offered Missy, not out of distaste for Edmund but rather because she was no longer surprised, and smiling for someone else was also not something that came completely natural to her. "And thank you, Mister Blackwood" Alicia finally replied, accepting the gift with her left hand, for it had remained the cleanest. While cleaning her dress or her gloves was a futile effort she could at least utilize it to pat away at the spots of blood lingering in the moment across her cheek. Her attention did not linger for too long upon Edmund, as the tell-tale dripping from above drew her gaze up towards the darkness. Would the supernatural leave behind a pool of blood? Mister Carlo confirms that there are no rooftop entrances. If there are no rooftop entrances then the killer should still be within the building. A tether would take time to remove. Mention was made of the sheriff and, more importantly, the deputies. Their reputation was almost as blemished as her own. Certainly not the sort of people she would wish to deal with in private. Only the fear of her actually being a Vampire might offer her some protection then. That or a few tonics, but then she might be required to relocate once more. Speaking of the fiends. As though summoned by thought alone the hard clacking of boots rang out across the auditorium. Three deputies had arrived. Crimson shades set upon the men as they approached. They were armed, as was to be expected, but with hands uncomfortably close. She winced as the crime scene was trampled upon, and gaze narrowed when Boone set his finger in her direction. His demand to question her was, unfortunately, the right call to make. He could even back it up with a proper reason. "If the Sheriff desired a proper handling of this case then he might have sent more careful men" the bloodsoaked woman mused, waving with her free hand towards the boot printed pool at the deputy's feet. Antagonizing the deputies was not her objective, It was, however, amusing. Useful as well if it rustled their arrogance, for it would not be she that they would need to answer to for committing such a mistake, and that thought alone might at least put some fear into their hearts. Fear could be useful to her now, even if it wasn't fear of what people thought she was. But then that was not a crutch that she wished to lean upon either. "Had you not allowed every other witness leave from the auditorium you might have questioned them. You still have witnesses present to corroborate my innocence. I stood in the front row while this man-" A pause for dramatic effect, and a wave of the handkerchief holding hand in the corpse's direction. "-was slain by a person on the stage. A person who ascended towards the darkness above. Darkness dripping now with this poor man's life essence. With haste you may very well catch the culprit. Mister Carlo has confirmed that there are no entrances to the roof. The killer may still reside within the building. And as for myself?" Crimson orbs turned towards the edge of the stage. She paused again, not to make a point but rather because she was embarrassed to admit a truth. "I have difficulties ascending heights." Alicia was quick to correct herself, for clearly the three were not the brightest lawmen in the west. "The stage is too high. For me to climb upon it with haste enough to surprise this man, to deal him a fatal blow from the front, with a blade not even here in our presence, would be incredibly difficult, bordering on the impossible. I did climb, however, because I am a practicioner of the medical arts." Even they have to answer to the truth. Surely that will be enough?

I'll put out a post tomorrow for Alicia.

If nothing else her optimism and is more of a front to keep her own sanity in check.

Alright, I think I've decided on my character. I'll contribute as well to the idea of a squad of maybe more mutated animal people. I'm also going to go with The Gunlugger. Since I assume we're doing character stuff in here I'll go ahead and post my character's introduction stuff and continue the process for us. I'll stick with name, appearance, outlook/personality, and both answering Jasmine's Hx and adding one from Kiyo for now, since I assume we do the rest later. Kiyo is The Gunlugger. She wears scrounged mismatched armor, using whatever might have the highest utility value to her, and certainly not because she enjoys hoarding things. Because she is fairly small and compact she has to adjust the size of said items often. Her mutation most closely resembles that of a squirrel. Atop her head are a pair of long ears, which are quite useful for listening to her environment. She has a very large fluffy tail, which is at least useful for hanging off things or dusting away tracks behind her in environments where that becomes neccessary. Light brown fur covers both her ears and tail, which at least makes it easy enough to conceal them in most environments. Her skin is fair, bordering on pale, which makes sense given her tendency to operate mostly at night or, at the very least, covered from head to toe in whatever she can find. Her eyes are red and usually carry a gleam of optimism, something a little easier to hold on to when one tends to avoid direct confrontations. Her hair, which is an almost white pale blonde, is quite long and typically kept bundled into a thick ponytail. She tends to wear it down the back of her clothes, as when her hair is allowed freedom it tends to fluff up and become fairly wild. Beneath her clothes one would discover a petite figure with some curves along her rump and hips, some fullness to her thighs, and an otherwise skinny frame, as food is hard to come by despite her best efforts. There are a few minors scars thanks to a few missteps in the past, but her preferred way of handling conflicts has kept her more or less unscathed. She likes to collect things and is definitely not a hoarder (something she doesn't like to be called). When she can Kiyo will avoid a straight fight and is a little bit of a coward (shy might be the better word, especially when people she doesn't know are involved, or public speaking with groups), but she will generally step up when she really needs to (although she won't like it). She tends to exude a fairly chipper and optimistic presence (although part of that is just her way of coping with how bad the world really is, and this may crack with enough applied pressure), can be a bit too forgiving, and actually enjoys adventure and exploration despite her cowardice. Kiyo is at least cautious, and tends not to trust people too quickly, but once she does decide that a person is trust-worthy she tends to swing in the opposite direction, giving perhaps a bit too much trust at times. While she can be energetic and a bit twitchy at times this does change when she becomes serious (like during a job), something born out of plenty of failures in the field. She doesn't like her shortness being pointed out, or the underestimation that it often brings, but inwardly will admit that both can be useful. Due to her (possibly fake) optimism she tends to overestimate herself and gloat (until it might bring conflict). She will try to avoid heavy physical work and when she gets into a bad mood it can often last for a long time (although good food or shiny loot for her totally-not-a-hoarder-collection is an easy way to cheer her up). She shows excellent competence in certain things (like gunslinging and gunsmithing), however beyond these things she can often prove to be a little dimwitted (ignorance is bliss and is perhaps part of what fuels her optimism). STATS || Cool +1 || Hard +3 || Hot -2 || Sharp +2 || Weird -1 || MOVES Battle-hardened: When you Act Under Fire, or when you Stand Overwatch, roll+Hard instead of roll+Cool. Insano like Drano: You get +1 Hard (Hard to+3). NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH: In battle, you count as a small gang, with harm and armor according to your gear. GEAR Silenced Sniper Rifle (3-harm far hi-tech ap.) Grenade Tube (4-harm close area reload messy ap.) AP Ammo (ap)(Add ap to all your guns.) 9mm (2-harm close loud ap.) Armor (Worth 2-armor.)(Mismatched, scrounged up for utility and fitted for her small body, primarily heavy woven garments with inserted plates.) Oddments (Worth 2-barter.) Hx Violetta the Battlebabe (Hx-2)(Once left me bleeding, and did nothing for me! They were working a gig and I wasn't a part of it, but it was still kind of mean!) @DreamsnThings I think Kiyo could be a good friend for Jasmine. Maybe she keeps clean thanks to Jasmine's help, and assists with scrounging up goodies due to her hoarding nature? Kiyo would definitely follow someone who could cook delicious foods. Perhaps that is how they met in the first place? As for Kiyo's first Hx: Which one of you has once left me bleeding, and did nothing for me? I'll be marking Hx-2 for them.

I think if we are doing animalistic traits as mutations it definitely leaves open a wide range of variance between the type that are more or less Human with animal features (ears and a tail) and humanoid anthros covered with fur.

Deciding right now between a bunny-eared Gunlugger, a fox-eared Gunlugger, or a post-apocalypse Dwarven Faceless. After I've decided that I'll look into answering/asking things. Thematically the reference picture for the Faceless fits what I imagine the setting to be best (and being a small wrecking ball of a person sounds amusing), but somebody obsessed with firearms and shooting things does sound pretty fun too. But it also depends on what limits we want mutations to have.

Amusingly I was considering making my character lean more hetero but still not completely in that direction.

I believe you can find the Hx questions in your playbook. For the Skinner it is at the end of the playbook and reads: • Which one of you is my friend? For that character, write Hx+2. • Which one of you is my lover? For that character, write Hx+1. • Which one of you is in love with me? For that character, write Hx-1. At the end, choose one of the characters with the highest Hx on your sheet. Ask that player which of your stats is most interesting, and highlight it. At least I think that is what is being referenced.

I'd be cool with the first idea. Might shift me more towards Gun-Lugger options in that case (unless I can figure out a way to write off my Faceless idea), but I'd be fine with that. I think in either scenario having an invasion of wasteland mutants into the more 'civilized' areas might be a neat thing to explore. It would breed plenty of conflict for the story.

Someone approaches. All of her senses were focused forward. Pawing hands in the darkness. Listening for movements. Eyes open to capture whatever light she could manage. Heavier footsteps created scuffing and creaking noises along the surface of the wood stage. Enough light spilled out from the backstage area to present the shadowy figure of the night's main attraction: Carlo Amankona. Relief and fear both spilled into her veins. On one hand he could act as a distraction. A protector. Someone larger and, in the moment, physically stronger and capable of possibly holding off the mysterious murderer. On the other hand he could get himself injured, or perhaps turn his fury upon her if he believed her to be culpable. Eyes widened when another sudden motion caught her attention. The strange woman who had appeared to slit the stagemaster's throat had just floated upwards towards the ceiling. Darkness appeared to spill out from the woman's dress. She listened for the whirrling of wires, the thrumming of a machine, or the squeaking of pulley wheels. Only the unusual humming sound followed the perpetrator. Both disappeared into the darkness above. By what method had she made her escape? Alicia could not place it in the moment. I doubt this is Millie's doing. Requires investigation. For now- Her attention returned towards the floor as a wet warmth spread across the tip of her right glove. The sensation spread to her knees and both palms when she pushed herself forward. Hands fumbled carefully about within the darkness, tracing the figure of the man laying upon the floor. She winced for a moment as the lights flickered to life, however once the form of Silas Ward appeared the pale doctor set immediately to work. The man was rolled slightly, just enough to offer her better access to his throat. One hand lifted the man's chin. The lack of resistance, of any movement at all, was enough to warrant concern. No good. Silas had suffered a wound which had been mostly likely fatal within the first few seconds. Even if she had reached the man in time there would have been little that she could do. Sure, she could have tested the drugs she used on her own body, but it was unlikely to make a meaningful difference here, and certainly not with a body unaccustomed to the chemicals she pumped into her own system. A sewing kit had been available within one of her pockets. That, she deduced, would not have mattered. Alicia's gaze met the lifeless eyes of the corpse lying before her. She reached up and with bloodied fingers closed the lids of Silas Ward. Not a gesture that she found particular meaning in herself, but one she understood eased the hearts and minds of others, especially those who were superstitious. Given the unusual circumstances of the man's death, it was probably for the best. "Of course" she muttered softly, drawing in a deeper breath to calm the quickening beat of her heart. Aldert Helsink had taken this moment to strike. It would not be the first time that her kindness had been taken advantage of, nor would it be the last. She wondered for a moment if part of why she played the monster was to make herself believe in the lies. Would it not be easier to simply acquiesce? One moment of weakness was all it took to uproot her life. If she cared less for others she might have avoided this. Lucky for her then that others were of clear mind. Edmund Blackwood was the first to speak out, not so much in her defense but at least in a manner which had cut into Aldert's accusations. Carlo had paid witness to the killer's presence. His words too felt as though they might cut into Aldert's claims. But it was the arrival of Missy Fischer that really sealed the fate of Aldert's bold lies. Three people, at least two of whom held some level of renown within the town, had disagreed with Aldert Helsink. They were not in Europe anymore. His influence had yet to creep very far in this country. Welcome to the United States, Aldert Helsink. May you fail spectacularly. Finally standing to her feet, Alicia took a moment to look over herself. She had been center front of the stage, as close as she could get in preparation for the performance. In the excitement of what had transpired Alicia hadn't noticed the arterial spray. Droplets had scattered across her dress and the wide brimmed hat that she wore. A couple of droplets had managed to reach the pale skin of her left cheek, but that was perhaps the most noticeable trace, followed then by the now soaked gloves that she wore. She had been lucky enough to wear red tonight, at the very least. "I am afraid that there is little to be done here" Alicia finally spoke, only now turning to face the others and, more specifically, to set her gaze upon the retreating form of Aldert. She had taken the time to calm herself. Clearly speaking with a more local friendly accent took at least some measure of effort. "He had likely expired before he hit the stage" she explained, pausing to direct her gaze towards Carlo. "I am sorry for your loss."

I'll probably wait to post for Alicia until after this rolling engagement finishes.

I should be more clear on the resource management part I brought up. I'm totally cool with it. It is however a bigger burden on the MC. And the game I had been in with that had us keeping track of each individual item, and the MC having some control over declaring if we found stuff while out and scavenging. I actually am perfectly fine with that myself, and was fine with keeping tabs on my own items. It is actually fun doing a system like that, where every resource is a choice you have to make. The only issue I had was that it places a larger burden on the MC, and I think it might have been part of why that game ended up failing. I just didn't want to see that happening here. If everyone did want something like that then I'd be quite happy with it too, there are just risks that come along with it. As for other non-PM stuff that we are discussing, I really like the idea of a giant urban complex. In a post-apocalypse setting that means that it can get overgrown or collapse in places, allowing for different sorts of biomes to a certain degree (a park might overgrow into a huge urban concrete forest which has become a literal forest, for example). But something like that, especially if streets are still densely packed with ruins (depending on what the apocalypse looked like) could make things like driving more difficult, thus making it more difficult if someone wanted to be a driver, or wanted more vehicles in the setting. I do think scarcity should definitely be a big factor. Depending on the results of the apocalypse, and the type, and the period of time since society fell, will determine what that scarcity is. But for now I'll wait and see the results of the PMs and go off to send my own.

The only thing I could think of would be to utilize Alicia's Alchemical Elixirs & Toxins. However I just noticed that I had reworked it before and her Regeneration is more of a built in thing now due to her weird chemically altered body (but then that could also be waved as her utilizing some injected elixir in the moment). That said if his throat was gutted as thoroughly as it might sound like then there might not even be a chance for even her scientific prowess to save him, which I'm totally cool with, so I'm willing to swing with that.

Truth be told I've seen plenty of fantasy focused roleplays on the site and not many post-apocalypse ones (save for ones which then go into the realm of fantasy, and even then still not common). Like Warning I do actually prefer anthros, or at least anthro-characteristics on my characters when I can (or really just non-Human in general). But a post-apocalypse setting just sounds like something that is more interesting and very much lacking, especially if it is also a little gritty. I don't actually mind a zombies setting, but that generally comes with certain baggage which has killed those roleplays in the past (namely resource management, which is I think kind of important in most post-apocalypse settings, but especially a zombie focused one). A straight up post-apocalypse game just sounds refreshing. @WritesNaughtyStories If you're up for MCing Apocalypse World I'd be completely down to join still. It definitely sounds fun.

Going off Playbooks, my top choices are, in no particular order: The Angel (Medic is fun. Medic is useful.) The Gunlugger (Gunslinger! Guns ahoy!) The Faceless (Masked berserker sounds fun.)

I am assuming that he is quite dead and, upon a quick examination, Alicia would determine that there is no way to save him? Even with strange medicinal potions. Otherwise she might attempt to give him one of her own.

That could be an interesting setting.

I like the idea of a continental size city. A city like that could have parks and other weird terrain features, while allowing for plenty of loot and strategically important landmarks. It also allows for plenty of spooky scary dark corridors and hallways and such. But then amusingly it's also then sort of like Cyberpunk if someone had shut off the lights.

To be honest that sounds more like a Cyberpunk setting with extra steps.

I'd prefer not zombies, personally.

Apocalypse World could be neat.

Which one was this? A slight tilt of the head. Crimson orbs partially obscured behind red crystal lenses were pulled away towards the man who had addressed her. The tone of his voice and the look in the man's eyes were very familiar to her. While he lingered for a few moments glancing between her and the mechanical genius Alicia decided how she might approach him. It was only when his fear grew heavier still, when he started to stand from his seat, and when she finally remembered a name that she made a decision. "Mister Sloan" she replied, lips curling further apart into her best predatory smile, even parting just enough to show off the tips of sharpened canines. No further words were needed, not that she would have the time for them. She was partially amused, however that wasn't the reason why she kept her gaze lingering upon Willis Sloan. Rumors of Willis Sloan painted a dangerous portrait of the man. From her experience those sorts of men were best kept in check by fear. It wouldn't work forever, and she needed to balance the threshold of that fear, however what she did now in the moment was, she felt, within reasonable limits. Perhaps an invitation later. Assert dominance. I do not fear him. Reinforce status quo. I am something to be feared. A show of force? Then reduce fear. He is right to fear me. It is best to leave me alone. But I am a reasonable person. A reasonable monster. Create an opening. I can be bargained with, if need be. Cooperation? Further research pertaining to mutual goals required. That might do. But for now! Millie Gerenhart did not leave her side. The lack of fear was refreshing. Of course she did not respond either. Before Alicia had a chance to decide why that might have been the lights of the venue softened, finally drawing her attention away from the retreating Mister Sloan and instead towards the stage. I'll explore that later. At long last her true purpose for being here had arrived! The unearthly qualities of Carlo Amankona's music had for some time intrigued her. It changed people. Drew them towards the man like a magnet. Tonight's packed hall was clear evidence of his musical capabilities, however what she was really interested in were the rumors. Was his music truly not of this world? Might he be capable of bending the fabric of scientific law? This was not something that she could leave up to second-hand sources. No, she came here fully intending upon observing with all of her senses the gifts of Carlo Amankona. Aldert's presence and the fear of those around her would not distract her from scientific pursuits! Lights set not far ahead of her suddenly flickered out. Is this one of Millie's tricks? A gadget I had not noticed? Clever. Consider my attention thoroughly captured. Thoughts were interrupted by a strange humming sound. It was new to her. She could not place an exact origin, not physically nor within her memories. She might have immediately attributed it to Millie had it not been for the eerie quality of the sound. It felt off. Wrong, almost. Strange. Curious. Noted. I'll want to speak with Millie later. She blinked a couple of times when the main light clicked awake. No longer was the man on the stage alone. Behind him stood a strange woman. A performer was her original guess. For a moment she was worried that Carlo's rumored abilities were slightly exaggerated, that tricks had been doing the bulk of his work, simple theatrics in place of unearthly talent. The flash of steel and a spray of crimson muted those thoughts. With a spike of adrenaline Alicia shot to her feet, hands moving on reflex to her sides, digging into the conceal pockets of her dress. Assess- The entire hall was plunged into darkness. This sort of thing she was familiar with, but even so it was dangerous. People all around her screamed. Sounds of heavy steps, squeaking wood, and groaning chairs filled the venue. Hoping to avoid any sort of stampede Alicia took hold of the edge of the stage and pushed herself up, driving herself out of the aisle and, she hoped, closer to the wounded man. Hands pawed at the ground in front of her while she shifted forth on her knees, hoping to locate the victim of tonight's brutal attack. How many other doctors of medicine might have been present? And so close too! Locate the victim. Although it might be unfortunate if the lights return and I am covered in his blood. No time to reconsider. Listen for the attacker. They might still be up here.

Being a monster in the eyes of many came with its own set of gifts. If she wanted a good seat within even a crowded venue, she could take it. People did not crowd her. Moving about, even in a dress, became exceedingly less difficult when a room full of people split a path open, and they did so without need of input. Fear was a valuable tool when harnessed correctly. There were plenty of disadvantages of course, and she had endured those throughout most of her life, but doing so made it all the easier to abuse the advantages gifted to her all while avoiding the annoying feeling of guilt that might otherwise accompany such actions. She had earned at least that much. Of course there might have been exceptions to that. Alicia was not immune to feelings of guilt. It never felt right to abuse the generosity of a genuinely good person. Clayton Cash was an example of a person who might have been good. What little she knew of him, and what few experiences she had had with him, pointed towards his being of decent character. Few people would speak apologies to her face, let alone make the effort to mouth such a thing from across a busy music hall. At least, it seemed to be some sort of apology. For the night we have yet to speak of? Or perhaps for not having greeted me? Best not to interrupt his business. A gentle smile and a single slight nod of her head, easier to read thanks to the wide brimmed hat, were both her answer and a friendly greeting. The night was still young, and there was no urgency to speak of what had happened before. She was patient. One had to be in order to survive for as long as she had. Regardless, I would not wish to get him involved. No effort had been made to disguise what was surely the true motive for Aldert Helsink's presence within the music hall. When their gazes met Alicia held her smile, despite the twisting feelings of anger and excitement and fear within her stomach. The faint tilt of Aldert's head was not meant for her, but she returned the gesture with a slight nod of her own, both an acknowledgement of his presence and a faintly cheeky greeting. For years they had played the parts of fox and hound. It was terrifying, a constant desparate struggle for survival on her end, but on her end it had also evolved into something of a game or a contest. She found some degree of amusement whenever she managed to outwit Aldert and his pawns. If she managed to corner the man she hadn't even fully decided on whether or not she would actually dispose of him. He brought friends. Of course he did. How many? I cannot tell. They won't move. Not when it is this crowded. She wasn't completely helpless. Reputation and wits aside, Alicia always carried at least some tools to aid in her survival, and tonight was no different. Her dress contained pockets, each cleverly hidden within the black silken frills of her skirt. Glass vials remained unshifting within padded inserts, each tied with various textured strings leading into the pocket itself, so that she might decipher which to tug free by texture alone. In another pocket were sheathed needles, each memorized by position and prepared for rapid application, whether it be to her body or that of another. At a moment's notice she could transform into a near facsimile of the very rumor they sought to bring low. And there was of course a knife and a pocket derringer. She would not pretend to be an excellent shot, but if she were close enough it could be utilized in a pinch. Thoughts of how she might make her escape, if need be, were interrupted by a sudden infiltration within the otherwise comfortable bubble created by her terrifying rumors. Ruby orbs drifted to the side, face turning just enough to offer her a glimpse of the intruder. Oh? Now isn't this a surprise! Alicia's smile widened as she turned further still, attention fully swinging towards the faintly mechanical scented woman now seated beside her. "Miss Gearhart, yes?" Alicia's voice was soft, quiet enough not to draw too much attention but not quite a whisper. Her words were spoken slowly, deliberately, and carried a thick eastern european accent from a region unlikely to be known to most everyone in this country. She had managed to learn enough of the English language to speak it correctly in moments of calm, albeit a little more slowly to focus on proper grammar and enunciation. It was during times of great excitement, or anxiety, or haste that her command over the English language started to fall apart. But in these moments she could speak it clearly enough. "I am surprised to see you here. Surprised and a little happy."

Capacity. Over capacity? This is safe. The loud droning murmuring of so many people awaiting the coming show near one of the few entrances into the hall quieted into hushed whispers and brief, peaceful moments of silence. It spread like a bubble, drifted down along one of the crowded lanes of traffic, and the way it parted people lingering within the crowded aisle made it appear almost physical in nature. As it passed some within the crowd left behind grew louder. Others kept their conversations low. Most of the conversations were dreadfully boring, the same sort of thing that had been discussed again and again. "Who is that?" "A foreigner?" "I heard she does weird things in that old house on the hill." "Monster." "A little strange, but she doesn't seem to be very bad." "Vampire, is what I heard." "She healed my neighbor's grandmother. I think she's a doctor of some sort." "A little short for a beast, isn't she?" A beast? Now isn't that a bit rude. With quiet confident steps one of the burgeoning town's oddities seemingly drifted on her way towards one of the better seats close to the stage, foot steps concealed entirely by the long ruby red skirt of a classic Victorian dress, one which was clearly European in design and only barely floated off the surface of the floor. The accompanying steel cage crinoline was of a slimmer design, one which still concealed her true figure but also one which would not hamper her occasional excursions out into the town. Sleeves covered her arms, the fabric puffed out somewhat at her shoulders, and the dress itself included a raised collar to conceal her neck. It was crafted of fine silk, as were the patterned red gloves that she wore. Black frills broke up the red, and a close look at the material would reveal faint patterns etched across every surface of red fabric. In better light a close observation might reveal signs of wear and tear, the occasional stitch and patch, however the surface itself was covered at random by black stitch patterns, a choice on its owner's part to keep up the ruse. A wide brim hat, equally red with a black frilly band and a single long raven colored feather, concealed the wearer's face and, more importantly, ears. Just in case all that failed she wore a pair of red tinted spectacles. Blonde locks, worn lose and flowing to chest in the front and to her rump at her back, provided a stark contrast to the rest of her attire. It was not beyond the short woman's financial capabilities to secure a box seat. Her attire alone, despite the wear and tear, hinted at this. While she might have been on the run, she had retained enough old money and funds from some of her experiments in order to afford a decently lavish life. That money however was destined for better things. Science was not cheap. Pushing its boundaries required even more still. And besides, would she not be able to better observe tonight's specimen up close? That was, after all, the primary reason for her having left the comfort of her home. That and the only experiments she currently had in progress required a great deal of waiting. As she turned to venture down the front row towards what she had already considered to be one of the better seats Alicia finally afforded herself a moment to lift her gaze towards the gathered patrons within the hall. They seemed to be from all walks of life, albeit some in gowned in cleaner dress than she was accustomed to. The Montgomery booth stuck out immediately. It was certainly one of the better spots within the music hall. Better for observing larger groups, but then today's exhibition was small enough that a closer seat might afford better observation, at least for what the little scientist was focusing on. A visit, perhaps? If I have time. Making myself known might pay dividends in the future. Another booth was occupied by one Edmund Blackwood. He was flanked by two frankly gorgeous women. Given the rumors, that seemed to make sense to her. He was dangerous, at least according to her, and primarily because of his rumored ability to seduce people. She knew that she was weak to such things. Romance and flirtation had never been the sort of thing she paid much attention to, and it had ultimately developed into a weak point. Thankfully it was something she was both capable of and willing to acknowledge, and so she could usually prepare for it. Probably no visit. Greeting patrons closer to another entrance stood the jolly figure of one Clayton Cash. A seemingly kind man, and one which Alicia didn't mind working with. That said, his kindness was also something to be wary of. It was easy to let one's guard down around that sort of person. One time she had even allowed herself to relax a bit too much. Drinks had been flowing. She had experienced a few new things, none of which she entirely regretted, and a few of which she intended to potentially explore further, whether it be with him or someone else. Thankfully nothing with potential for lasting consequences, although they had certainly come close. We should probably have a chat about that. Eventually. For a moment she slowed. Gaze lifted, locking directly upon the figure of a man she knew all too well. Aldert Helsink. Not hiding. In the best position to observe and, if need be, to escape. Or perhaps to prevent another from escaping. Her great foe and that which was most dangerous to her. He had pursued her here from the old world. But while his wealth and lineage gave him extreme power in the old world, here in the new world his power was at least somewhat limited. The people here will be my shield. He should not move on me. Having finally arrived at her seat, Alicia swept a silken red hand across the front of her skirt. Fingers curled in, gripping against the collapsible steel ribs of her dress, and with practiced grace she settled into her seat. Her free hand set against the silver chatelaine. Digits brushed across the little pocket watch and a ring of keys, crimson gaze set forth towards the stage. I am already excited. I hope that some of the rumors are true.