Floorp (path 1.1.2)

Alright, this is a 7500 word code excerpt from Revelations. This particular one is stuck in MC's body with broken legs, but is deemed innocent and has chosen to stay with Daniel to recuperate. Some time has passed, the legs are somewhat healed, but double casts still makes life hard. All variables and code is not there yet, as usual.

....

Weeks pass in dreadful boredom. A routine of rest and rehab, leaving you in a constant state of ache and exhaustion. Physical rehab was never your favorite, and you try to push as hard as you can so you can finally be free from this place. Move about on your own, instead of struggling to hop to the kitchen. Oh well, at least you're vertical some hours of the day, it won't be long now until you can get back to your life. Maybe not to active fighting, but at least be well enough that you can make it to your base without collapsing in an undignified heap. You have things to do, you can't afford to lie here useless and anxious.

$!{swear}. You're pathetic. At least nobody is around to hear you whine.

It was easier to deal with things like this at the Farm, back then you had no choice, rehab was just another of your duties. Take care of your body, make sure you're in good shape. Broken tools gets tossed in the trash. That turned out to be another lie, you were brought back to them smashed in a million pieces and still they found a use for you. Glued you together enough to keep you breathing, and... no. Not going there. Not now. Not tonight. Not ever. Not safe. Not alone.

*if character_1_1_2

Daniel isn't here tonight. $!{swear}. You can't keep relying on him, but you can't allow yourself to ignore the fact that you sleep easier with him around. Nightmares, sure, but at least they're not your own. You never thought your shields would drop that low as you slumbered, but this is the first time you've spent this long with someone you allowed to get close. Are you growing soft? Is it an effect of the painkillers?

You roll over, an act that's still awkward with your broken legs. The light-weight therapeutic splints you're wearing now are more comfortable, but you still feel like a doll with rusted joints. Got to heal right. Fit for fight soon enough. The bottle of painkillers on the nightstand is a temptation, you could drift back to sleep in their numbing embrace.

*fake_choice

#I sigh and take two. I need my sleep.

There's nobody around to appreciate your stoicism. The only thing your refusal will give you is another restless night and a miserable tomorrow. You unscrew the bottle with a sigh, shaking out two of the innocent white pills. It could be worse, they're not strong enough to knock you out. Just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to let you ignore your aching muscles and healing bones as you drift back to sleep. You wash them down with some lukewarm water, making sure not to empty the glass. A nightly bathroom visit is an exercise in frustration, hobbling around on crutches is bad enough when you're awake, it's a hazard when you're half asleep You grunt in pain as you roll back, resuming your contemplation of the ceiling. Relief can't come soon enough.

*set painkiller true

#I grit my teeth and ignore them. I can handle pain.

You could take one. Or two. You did at the start, when pain management was a necessity without your pain-gate. But right now? Are things that unbearable? Really? You close your eyes and explore your aching muscles and healing bones. It hurts, sure, that low-level annoying hum along your nerves that gets overpowering late at night with nothing to distract you. But you've dealt with worse. So much worse. And isn't pain a reminder that you're alive? That you have a body that can hurt? With a smile closer to a grimace you roll back to resume your contemplation of the ceiling.

*selectable_if ((vice = "sugar") or (vice = "coffee")) #I reach out, then pull my hand back. Addiction is a danger.

There's nobody around to appreciate your stoicism. The only thing your refusal will give you is another restless night and a miserable tomorrow. You reach out for the bottle a little too eagerly, and find yourself hesitating as you feel it in your hand. How often have you been taking these lately? It was understandable at the start, pain management is necessary without your pain-gate, but do you really need them now? Or do you just want them? Want the numbness and the bliss? That's... you sigh. Heavily. And then you place the bottle back on the nightstand. You need to start cutting down, and right now nobody is around to look worried at your grunts of pain as you roll back to stare at the ceiling.

Pain is a temporary inconvenience.

*if character_1_1_2

*if herald_hurt

Did Daniel use these after you hurt him in your fight at the Museum? The prescription is in his name, but the date is newer. His knee still bothers him at times, but enough to use these?

*else

The name on the bottle is Daniel's, you suppose that it's not hard to get access to high-grade painkillers as a Ranger. The date is new, though.

Did he fake an injury in order to supply you with these? Once upon a time you would have thought he didn't have that kind of subterfuge in him, but you've come to realize that the man has layers. That a soft smile and conciliatory tone can be as coercive as manipulative lies. Which brings you important question; is he getting to you?

*fake_choice

#No. This is just a momentary respite.

You're not easily influenced. If you were, you'd never have fled the Farm in the first place. While you can't deny that it is nice to have a moment of rest in a comfortable apartment with a man that obviously cares a lot about you, in the end it doesn't change anything. You're still ${villain_name}. Daniel might be willing to overlook that you are a Re-Gene, though you doubt he understands the reality of that, but you know he won't stand for villainy. You're breaking the law. You hurt people.

*if herald_hurt

You hurt him.

In the end you are on opposite sides of this war, and you're not naive enough to think it will change anything. For either of you. Once the truth is out, this will be over. Maybe that's why you're allowing yourself to enjoy it while it lasts.

#I wish I knew. This is complicated.

You're not easily influenced. If you were you would never have fled the Farm in the first place, and yet you find yourself hesitating. Dreading the point when you can return to active duty instead of living this pretend-life. Like everything was normal. Like the two of you weren't cast on opposite sides of a war nobody admits is happening. At times you find yourself missing the past, what if you were what he really thought you were? A retired vigilante who ended up in trouble? You can feel that he's torn between wanting to honor your civilian life, and wanting to recruit you. Would it be so bad to help them out? Be a hero?

*if prepare_them

You're already preparing them for what is to come as best you're able. It would be easier if you were openly on their side. Easier. Riskier.

*elseif anarchist

Pick the least terrible alternative? What chance do you have of changing things anyway, it would be easier from the inside? Selling out for a good cause?

*else

Pretend you've never done anything wrong? Put on a new mask and smile for the camera.

$!{swear}. Sometimes you wish it was that easy. Most of the time you're grateful that it's not. And yet, your wishes doesn't change anything. Reality is what it is, and you know better than to ignore it.

#Maybe I am getting to him.

You're not easily influenced. If you were, you would never have fled the Farm in the first place. You know where you stand, and what you need to do. Daniel on the other hand... When you first met him you thought him both naive and ignorant, but as you've gotten to know him you've realized that it's worse than that. He's a believer in the good of humanity. In that people can be better. In redemption and second chances. In doing the right thing. In being a hero because you have the power to be one, and to not be would be to disappointing... you're not sure what or who. Maybe himself. He's a believer, and that makes him dangerous. But it also makes him an opportunity. Maybe he is not ready to betray his cause, but what if his cause has already betrayed him? What if the masters he serve are not worthy of his trust?

*if prepare_them

You wish you dared to believe he could keep a secret. You know he's not blind to the problems of this city, but what would be do if he knew the truth? Would he want to go public? Or worse, would he even believe you without more proof than your word? At that point he'd know you were a liar. It might be easier to believe you were lying the uncomfortable truths as well.

*elseif anarchist

It's an interesting prospect. You've only touched briefly on politics or the Rangers, and he's not blind to the problems of this city. All he needs to d is connect the dots and see the big picture, but... would he want to? Or is being blind more comfortable?

*else

Would he ever consider breaking the law? Switching sides?

*if boss

He'd be a great asset to your team, though you'd have to figure out some way of keeping Nehal from being too distracted. He'd fit right in, if only he didn't have so many scruples.

*elseif thief

You're just a thief. Compared to a lot of people in power in this city you're small potatoes. Maybe he'd even find it romantic in a steal from the rich, give to the poor kind of way? Or are you the one being naive now?

*else

You doubt it. Not with what you have done. Does he have the kind of anger inside him that could make him understand why you're doing what you do? Turning on his colleagues? Hurting them? What would it take to get him to that point? Is it even possible?

$!{swear}. This is getting you nowhere.

You close your eyes and try to will yourself to sleep. It's too quiet, even the thoughts of distant neighbors are muted. It's late. Almost everyone is deeply asleep, enough that your shields can tune them out to a distant drone, dreams like traffic, easily ignored once you get used to it.

*if painkiller

The pills will kick in eventually. Until then you

*else

Your muscles are still aching enough to be a distraction. You try to

focus on breathing exercises. Slow your breath. Hold it. Breathe again. Slow. Deep. Focus on your breathing, not on the uncertain future.

[i]What was that?[/i]

You don't open your eyes, but hold your breath and focus on listening instead. It had been a soft thump. Not heavy enough to be a footstep or an impact. A bird landing on a windowsill perhaps? Or mistaking glass for clean air?

*if character_1_1_2

It has happened before, Daniel's apartment is nothing but windows, and he often forgets to make them opaque before going to bed. He likes the view, but you see nothing but vulnerabilities. Sure, you'd need to be a flier to get up here, but you can picture an attack helicopter turning this place to shreds all too easily. Even with reinforced glass it's too exposed. The windows in the bedroom are tuned black to help you sleep, but you don't think the impact was on this side. It could have been Daniel, though his landings are usually soft enough to be noiseless unless he's exhausted. You doubt he'd be back this quickly, though. The alarm he responded to was far south, a fair bit of flying over the ocean. A boat in trouble, needing evacuation. You had made the joke that he was moonlighting as a coast guard, and the laugh had been nervous enough that you realized you weren't far from the truth. This wasn't official Ranger business, this was someone who knew who to call. A hero who would sacrifice a good night's sleep to help some civilians in trouble. Few boats dared the waters outside Los Diablos, you have no idea what idiot he would have to rescue, but as there would be little official help you suppose he didn't feel he had a choice.

Heroes. Idiots. You'd rather he'd be home right now and save you from your thoughts.

[i]There. Again. A soft tick, something sharp on metal.[/i]

Is your mind playing tricks on you, or is something really going on?

*fake_choice

#I can't afford to take the risk. I slowly reach for the crutches.

Regardless of whether this is nerves, paranoia, or a threat, you can't afford to ignore it. Overreacting hurts less than being surprised, so with a sigh you grit your teeth and carefully maneuver your legs over the side of the bed. With the splints for support you can hobble around on crutches now, but the trick will be to do so quietly. You can't afford to let an enemy know you've noticed them.

*goto sneakthump

#I reach out with my thoughts, scanning the area carefully.

You thought you would have picked up any overt threats by now, but it never hurts to be sure. Letting out a calming breath, you focus on your immediate surroundings. If this is a strike team protected by training or drugs, you will be able to spot them with a bit of focus. Feel for disturbances, an absence as much as a presence. You feel nothing untoward, no sense of faint static hidden under daily buzz. Just... maybe... ah. There. A bird.

You nearly laugh in relief. Like all birds, the thoughts are a nearly unreadable jumble, but quite distinct in their alieness. Not a seagull or a raptor, you think it's probably a pigeon or a sparrow, a peaceful city bird looking for...

Wait. Pigeons and sparrows rarely move alone or at this height. Nor at night. Did something disturb this one so it needed to find a new place to perch? Or are you becoming paranoid?

*if thief

Oh no. This could be bad. No. Worse. This could be [i]embarrassing.[/i]

If it is though, then she would be changing right about—

[i]Now.[/i]

*else

Relax. It's a bird. Probably as lost as you feel right now, maybe...

[i]And then everything changes[/i]

No bird. You sit up in bed, biting back a cry of alarm. Bird gone. Human appeared. You can feel her thoughts carefully quiet and focused, if you hadn't already been on the alert you doubt you would have noticed.

*if thief

You were right. You know this would-be thief. Dove. Vera Saleh. Mercenary to some, assassin to others, but mostly thief extraordinaire thanks to her power to turn into a pigeon as well as control them. Some would call her your rival, but you would call her a pain in the ass.

*set vera true

*if lupin

Like you, she likes the shiny things, art and jewels to go along with the cash.

*else

Unlike you, she steals mostly art and jewels along with the cash.

She should have been turning into a magpie, but you suppose whatever quirk of the boost drug that let her turn into a pigeon didn't have a sense of poetry.

Not that it matters. What does is that for some reason she has picked this apartment as her next target.

Because of course she would.

*elseif tech_savvy

Who? What? There's no sense of threat or an imminent attack, so you take a moment to sift through her thoughts trying to discern her intent.

*else

That triggers a memory. You think you know who this is. Dove. Vera Saleh if you remember your data correctly. A boost who can turn into a pigeon, and if the rumors are right, control them in various ways as well. A mercenary for hire, an assassin whispers some, but from what you've seen, she's more of a thief who likes to nurture a bad reputation.

*set vera true

*if massacre

She never struck you as someone with a taste for killing.

The question is what she's doing here. Her thoughts do give you some clues.

Breaking in. You can feel the quiet satisfaction as the glass-cutter makes a perfect hole, too small for someone, maybe enough to reach an arm through, maybe...

[i]Thoughts gone. No human. Bird again.[/i]

In the quiet of the empty apartment you clearly hear the click of bird-feet on the hard floor. They walk with purpose, but you don't know to where.

*if thief

Probably to disconnect further alarms. That's what you would do, it would be foolish to think the windows was the only danger.

*fake_choice

#I pretend to be asleep, listening and scanning closely.

*if vera

So the big question is if Dove is here to rob the place or not.

*if character_1_1_2

It makes sense. Daniel's walls are covered in art,

*if lupin

you'd be lying to yourself if you hadn't been tempted to do the same.

*else

you know enough to know they're valuable.

And that's not taking into account what kind of money or tech a rich boy Ranger might have lying around. Because she has to know, right? It can't be a coincidence that she's here when Herald was called out. Was she waiting for a chance? Did she plan it? Set up the accident?

*else

You don't know what is going on, but you doubt you're about to be assassinated by a bird, so you might as well take a chance to learn as much as you can.

The big question is whether she knows you are here. No use ruining the surprise if she does not.

Relax. Slow your breath. Pretend to be asleep.

*if vera

Maybe Dove will just rob the place and not bother with the bedroom. That would let you tease Daniel about his security arrangements and maybe wake him up to the fact that being part of the Rangers doesn't make him immune.

You should know more once she turns back to human and you can read her mind.

*else

A bird is not a threat, and the moment she turns back to human you'll be able to read her mind and see what is going on.

Perks of telepathy is that you don't have to be on your feet to be dangerous.

*set awaredove true

#I quietly get out of bed, can't be caught like that.

You can't stay in bed when you know someone is in the apartment. Even on crutches you'd be better off than trapped under the covers. At least you can move. Somewhat. This is going to suck. With a sigh you grit your teeth and carefully maneuver your legs over the side of the bed. With the splints for support you can hobble around on crutches, but the trick will be to do so quietly. You can't afford to let her know you've noticed anything wrong.

*set awaredove true

*goto sneakthump

#Breathe. No time to be paranoid. This is the third time this week.

You let out a sigh and try to quiet your brain.

*if painkiller

The numbness of the painkillers are spreading, turning your body pleasantly heavy.

You can't keep doing this to yourself. This is the third time this week you've heard something, every noise turns into a threat when you're not on your home turf. No, let's admit it, even there. Paranoia has kept you alive for too long to just be turned off. Trusting this location to be safe means trusting the Rangers.

*if character_1_1_2

Trusting Daniel. And he doesn't suspect the kind of enemies you have. What they are capable of.

No. Sleep. You chide yourself and wish you could relax. It was just a sound. Nothing big. No threatening minds hovering outside your door. Just the vagueness of the city, of sleeping minds and birds

*if character_1_1_2

high over the quiet streets below.

*if daring < 60

Did you just hear something click? Like bird feet on a hard surface?

You frown, listening.

*if painkiller

It's getting harder to focus, the lack of pain makes you too relaxed.

There. Tick. Tick. Tick. Are there windowsills? Could a bird be walking outside the window?

That makes sense. You've seen the rows of pigeons curling up on next to each other for the night, seeking refuge from wind and rain. Maybe someone got disturbed and ended up here.

*if character_1_1_2

Who knows, Daniel probably feeds them. Sounds like him. Friend of small animals and pathetic villains everywhere.

*if (((daring <= 30) and (not(painkiller))) or (daring < 20))

You should ignore it. It's probably nothing. But right now you are wide awake

*if painkiller

despite the seductive embrace of the painkillers,

and you can't stop listening. What if something is here?

Tick. Tick. Tick. The steps of the bird comes from inside the apartment. You're sure of it. Either that or this is another nightmare. No. Your mind brushes against the casual alieness of a bird.

A bird.

*if character_1_1_2

Did the thing get inside when Daniel left? $!{swear}. What are you supposed to do now? You can't chase it down on crutches. That would be undignified. Let Daniel deal with that when he comes home. If it shits on the couch it's not your problem.

*set awaresomething true

Not a threat. An annoyance. Maybe now your brain can shut up and go to sleep.

*if painkiller

The bed has finally reached that state of relaxed softness that comes with numbed nerves.

*else

Go to sleep. You need to rest. The urge to roll over is strong, but you resist. It will hurt. Better just trying to relax. Let go. Drift off.

*goto bedroomvisit

*label sneakthump

The carpet muffles the sound of your crutches, biting back the groan of effort and agony is second nature by now. Being quiet is an acquired skill, there's nothing like an involuntary yelp if you're prepared enough. The problem is the light, the room is dark, the windows letting in none of the ambient city light. You need to remember the layout, where the furniture is, how far it is to the door, where to move.

*if fighter

$!{swear}. Your crutches snags on something, and it's only your training that keeps you on your feet. Clothes, carelessly dropped on the floor. Your own, of course, but that doesn't make it better. At least you didn't tumble head over heels.

*else

You left your clothes in a pile on the floor as you changed to your pajamas, it was too much effort to hang them up. In the dark they would have been a tripping hazard for your crutches, but you remember where they are and skirts them easily.

There is a noise outside the door, not a loud one, but clear enough for senses heightened by darkness and fear.

*if vera

Bird thoughts. Filled with intent. A flutter of wings. She hasn't changed to human yet, is she checking the place for more alarms? It makes sense, they might be keyed to human weight and heat signatures.

*elseif awaredove

Bird thoughts. Filled with intent. No sense of threat, more caution and curiosity. A flutter of wings. Searching for something, but what?

*elseif painkiller

You don't pick up any human thoughts from the outside, nor a sense of threat. But you heard something, a different sound this time, softer, almost like a flutter of wings.

Are you dreaming?

You shake your head. Tries to focus. The painkillers wraps you in soft cotton and blankets, even the ache in your legs is a distant thing as you lean against the crutches, trying to focus on the sounds. Did you imagine that? It all seems quiet once more.

*else

Bird thoughts. Hard to read. Not a raptor or a hunter... something peaceful. A pigeon? It would fit, but what is a lone pigeon doing here? A flutter of wings as it takes flight. Looking for something, as far as you can understand, but what? A way out? But how did it get in? Was a window left open?

You shake your head and focus. No time for that now.

*if character_1_1_2

You can curse Daniel out for being sloppy later, maybe it got in when he flew out? perils of fliers you suppose.

The question is what to do about it.

*if Vera

*goto birdcrimes

Going back to bed is out of the question, you need to secure the apartment before you can rest. The light switch is next to the door, flicking it would destroy your darkvision, but it will be worse for anybody else. If there is some assassin lurking out there with nightvision goggles and a mind disciplined enough to be a thought-void you bet they would be startled enough to let you pick up their thoughts.

And then they are yours.

With the smallest of movements you quietly open the bedroom door a crack. It's awkward but you do it quietly, leaning heavily on one of the crutches as you do so. Closing your eyes, you reach in, flicking on the lights.

The back of your eyelids register the change, and a moment later, as you have felt no human minds react, hostile or otherwise, you peek through the door, opening your eyes a fraction so you can see what is going on.

The room is empty. Your first impression. Not to be trusted. Something —is— here, you can feel it. You limp through the door, leaning heavily on your crutches, pretending to be an injured civilian. Not a threat. Not aware. Heading to the bathroom.

*if painkiller

There is a hint of fresh air that shouldn't be here. Is a window open slightly? Not that you can see from this angle. You focus deeper, thoughts tangled in warm drugs, what is it, what are you missing, what—

"Uh." You blink, but at this point your vision has adjusted so you really are seeing what you're seeing. A bird must have gotten in through the open window, a sleek looking city pigeon. Relief would have washed through you if it wasn't for what the bird was doing.

*else

The hint of fresh air confirms your suspicions. An open window. That explains everything. Now where is that bird—

"Uh." You blink, but at this point your vision has adjusted so you really are seeing what you're seeing. The bird, sure, an ordinary city pigeon. Relief would have washed through you if it wasn't for what the bird was doing.

*page_break What the—

The pigeon is sitting frozen in surprise and fear, locking eyes with you, the mottled feather pattern giving it an almost comically startled appearance, as if it was wearing glasses. It's sitting on top of the security system terminal with a few pulled out cords in its beak like colorful worms.

"What's going on?" You know it sounds like you're asking the pigeon what is going on, and indeed, the pigeon tilts its head as if considering your request before giving the cords one final pull, making sure they are disconnected.

*if thief

Oh. No. You're not drugged up enough that you can't put two and two together. You know this pigeon. No. Dove. Vera Saleh. Mercenary to some, assassin to others, but mostly thief extraordinaire thanks to her power to turn into a pigeon as well as control them. Some would call her your rival, but you would call her a pain in the ass.

*set vera true

*if lupin

Like you, she likes the shiny things, art and jewels to go along with the cash.

*else

Unlike you, she steals mostly art and jewels along with the cash.

She should have been turning into a magpie, but you suppose whatever quirk of the boost drug that let her turn into a pigeon didn't have a sense of poetry.

Not that it matters. What does is that for some reason she has picked this apartment as her next target.

Because of course she would. She's gotten in your way enough already.

Except she has no idea who you are. All her interactions have been with ${villain_name}. You're a perfect unknown.

*goto faceoff

*elseif streetwise

Is that pigeon dismantling the security system? It sure looks like it is, and something about the incongruity of the scene triggers a part of your memory. This isn't a dream or a hallucination, this is a villain! She's called Dove, she's a thief and a mercenary, and if your memory serves you her civilian identity is Vera Saleh. You looked into her once in case you needed a thief, but nothing came up that you couldn't handle yourself. Turns into a pigeon on command and control them as well, which is handy, but not exactly overpowering in a fight.

Looks like you just became her next job. Or. No. Not you. She looks as surprised as you do, though bird expressions are hard to read. And, what's more interesting is that she has no idea who you are. You're a perfect unknown.

*set vera true

*goto faceoff

*else

Why is the pigeon dismantling the security system? Is it trying to build a nest? You have no idea, and its mind is elusive in that bird-like way. You read surprise and confusion, but no threat. Looks like it's just as shocked as you are.

$!{swear}. Are you going to have to chase out a pigeon while on crutches? That's a bit of comedy you'd rather not star in. Birds are not like mammals, you can sense their thoughts, but they are so alien, but maybe you can just...

"Shhhh..." you make a calming sound as you slowly hobbles closer, trying to project friendship and warmth towards the bird. No need to fly. Not a threat. A friend. It should be possible with pigeons, they were domesticated at one point and still likes people. Doesn't see them as predators. If you can tap into that, maybe you can just grab it, shove it back out the window, close it and go back to bed.

You so desperately need sleep.

"Cooo." The bird hops down on the floor and you nearly curse, because it had been at the perfect height for grabbing before.

"Please don't make me chase you." Bending down is not in your current skillset. At least it hops towards you with curiosity, so you reach out your hand trying to coach it to jump up on it. Play the falconer, pigeon claws shouldn't shred your hand. Salmonella is an issue, but you can always wash your hands afterwards.

"Coo?" The bird hops towards you and you feel a flood of relief. You can do this. Get it out and go to bed.

*goto floorp

*label birdcrimes

Going back to bed is out of the question, you can't let Dove rummage around unchallenged. You need to confront her, but right now you're not wearing your armor. You're not ${villain_name}, just a hapless, injured civilian, who is sleeping over at a friend's place.

Or is she here for you? It doesn't make sense, but paranoia has saved your life more than once, so you stow that thought for later. Once she's changed, you should be able to read her mind. Right now it's all bird-jumbles and instincts. You need to push a confrontation, without ruining your cover. If you're lucky, she runs, if you're not, you have to deal with that later. You trust your telepathic powers, once she switches, she's yours. And if she stays a pigeon?

Well, you can handle one bird.

With the smallest of movements you quietly open the bedroom door a crack. It's awkward but you do it quietly, leaning heavily on one of the crutches as you do so. Closing your eyes, you reach in, flicking on the lights.

The back of your eyelids register the change, and a moment later you peek through the door, opening your eyes a fraction so you can see what is going on.

The room is empty. Your first impression. Not to be trusted. She —is— here, somewhere. You limp through the door, leaning heavily on your crutches, pretending to be an injured civilian. Not a threat. Not aware. Heading to the bathroom. There is a hint of fresh air that shouldn't be here. You bet it's from a pigeon-sized hole, her way into the apartment. So small that it will be easily missed. But where—

There!

The pigeon is sitting frozen in innocent surprise and fear, locking eyes with you, the mottled feather pattern giving it an almost comically startled appearance, as if it was wearing glasses. It's sitting on top of the security system terminal with a few pulled out cords in its beak like colorful worms.

"What's going on?" You pretend ignorance at the strange scene, and the pigeon tilts its head as if considering whether you are a threat before giving the cords one final pull, making sure they are disconnected. Clever. Is she going to try to pretend to be an animal? That leaves the ball in your court, you don't think she has any idea who you are.

*goto faceoff

*label faceoff

"Shoo," you say, waving your hand, which is less than impactful considering you still have your crutch. "How did you get in here?" If she has witnesses there is a chance she might pretend innocence. Fly off again.

How ready is she for a confrontation? You don't exactly look like a threat right now, hurt as you are. But she has to make a choice now, either stay a bird and fly back out the way she came. Or change, and the moment she does that you will have access to her thought and a lot more than that.

The bird hops down on the floor, and you hobble forward, as if attempting to herd it towards a corner. "Not going to hurt you, just stay calm and I'll let you out the way you came in." It would make your life easier if she obeyed, but it would give you no answers to why she was here in the first place.

*if character_1_1_2

Probably to steal something, but you can't be sure.

The bird hops towards you, as if making itself easy to catch. Is she going to let you pick her up and let her out? Or is she preparing for an attack? You don't feel any hint of a threat, but birds are wily. Hard to read.

Better be ready for everything. You keep your balance steady as you lean forward, trying to lure her closer. "Come here birdie..."

*set preparedchange true

*goto floorp

*label bedroomvisit

*if awaredove

*elseif awaresomething

*else

*label floorp

And then everything changes.

The bird in front of you stops and convulses, as bad recording frozen mid-frame. It's disconcerting to watch, the way the shadows twists and grows, deeply sea-green, uncomfortably like a nightmare as they grow and there's a visceral pop as the bird is gone, and a woman dressed in gray and black crouches in its stead, close enough to make you stumble back in

*if preparedchange

shock, faked as it might be. You were ready for this, but at least she didn't try to punch you.

*else

shock.

She straightens and stretches, head moving bird-like, and you can see the echo of the pigeon in the way she looks at you. Narrow face. Black, wavy hair pulled back in a messy bun. A body all angles and limbs. The large glasses frame her, but you don't make the mistake of seeing them as a fashion accessory. They look as high-tech as Dr. Mortum's, and the skinsuit has the telltale shimmer of adaptive camouflage not currently in use. Expensive. Personal. Quirky.

"Don't worry," she says, voice a hitch deeper than you had been prepared for. "I'm not going to hurt you."

*if preparedchange

"$!{swear}!" You don't have to fake the pain as you take another painful step back, nearly falling over as you fumble your crutches. Trying to appear as panicked and shocked as you can, you quickly scan Dove's mind. You don't pick up any threat from her, she speaks the truth. She's not here to hurt you. In fact, you realize she has no idea who you are. You were not supposed to be here.

*else

"$!{swear}!" You don't have to fake the shock, taking another painful step back, nearly falling over as you fumble your crutches. You don't pick up any threat from her, she speaks the truth.

*if vera

She's not here to hurt you. In fact, you realize she has no idea who you are. You were not supposed to be here.

*else

Whoever this woman is, she's not here to hurt you. She has no idea who you are, you weren't supposed to be here.

Interesting. There's some ways to play this to get the information you want.

*fake_choice

#I will play the terrified civilian.

"Don't hurt me," you gasp, realizing she had aready said that. $!{swear}. Not the smoothest move, but you suppose that makes your panic believable.

"I won't," she assures again, hands up, palms out. "See, no weapons?" That's a lie, you can sense that she has at least two knives, a taser and a compact gun strapped somewhere on her suit, hidden by other equipment.

"That's not reassuring," you say, stopping yourself before you get snarky. You've gotten her to relax, and that's the important part. Establishing yourself as no threat. "You were a pigeon five minutes ago, who knows what else boosts like you can do!"

"I could turn back into a pigeon and shit all over—" an almost imperceptible pause "—your furniture. That's about the worst I can do. Don't worry."

"A strange woman just broke into the apartment, of course I'm going to worry."

*if character_1_1_2

Was she about to say Daniel's name? Or Herald's?

"Don't fret, I'm just here to rob the place, I am sure the insurance will handle that." Her smile is wide and friendly, as if this was an encounter she had all too often.

*goto robherald

#I will get angry and threaten to call the police.

"Whoever you are, get out of here right now or I'm calling the police." It feels strange to say, but you try to channel all the indignant rich idiots who have tried to stand up to you in the past.

"I already disconnected the alarm," she offers helpfully. "And I rather doubt you can hop fast enough to reach the phone ahead of me. I don't see any pockets in your jammies." Her voice is filled with amusement, and you don't have to pretend to be angry anymore. The look on her face is infuriatingly condescending.

"You won't get away with this," you threaten, stopping yourself before you try to shake your crutch at her. You might fall, and that would be embarrassing. You've gotten her to relax, and that's the important part. Establishing yourself as no threat.

*if character_1_1_2

"I'm sorry honey, I already have." She gestures to the room. "Now please be quiet and let me rob the place and nobody needs to get hurt. I'm sure the insurance will handle the rest."

*goto robherald

#I will question her indignantly why she is here.

"Why are you here?" You hold your ground, trying to look like you cling to your final authority, the threatened homeowner.

*if character_1_1_2

"Oh I am here to rob the place," she admits with a shrug. "Nothing else. All you need to do is keep calm and quiet and nobody needs to get hurt. And by nobody, I mean you." Her smile is sharper now.

"You can't do that," you gasp, wondering if you are hamming it up too much. She doesn't seem to think so, you've gotten her to relax, and that's the important part. Establishing yourself as no threat. Predictable. Normal.

"I'm sorry to say, but I can." She gestures to the alarm. "Nobody is going to come to your rescue, just relax and let the insurance handle everything."

*goto robherald

*label robherald

"It's not my place," you say, planting a clue to see if she bites. Her face reveals nothing, but you feel her mind trying to add things up. "I'm just staying here while I recover." It's not even a lie, once she starts looking around the supplies and adaptions to the space would reveal that to her. You're out of the wheelchair, but it's still there in a corner just in case you need it. You have stubbornly refused. Your body needs to heal faster, and you do that best on your feet, crutches or not.

*comment vary this depending on how open the relationship is.

"Oh wait..." She lights up, as if she is connecting the dots at last.

*if gender = "man"

"You're the boyfriend!"

*elseif gender = "woman"

"You're the new girlfriend!"

*else

"You're the new one!"

She chuckles to herself. "What a gentleman Mr. Sullivan is, letting you recuperate here on Ranger dime." Facts slipping from both her words and her mouth.

She knows Daniel is Herald. In fact, that is why she picked this place. And arranged for Herald to be elsewhere when she did so. This isn't just a random act, this is planned.

"Is this about him?" You feign nervous confusion as you sift through her thoughts, careful not to dig too deep. There's a strangeness to them, which you suppose might have something to do with her ability to turn into a pigeon. That mind had not felt human.

"I mean," she admits as she scans the room to make sure nothing else pops out, "It's not [b]not[/b] about him. He's got money. He's got some interesting paintings. I'm planning to take them. It's not really complicated." But it is.

"Please don't," you beg, stalling as you taste her motivation. "He loves those paintings." This isn't just about money, it's about more than that. He annoys her. No, more than that, she considers him her rival.

*if thief

What? Herald? Of all people? Not you?

*if ((arrogance >= 70) or (infamy >=60))

The indignity!

*else

Huh. You suppose he would take offense to even petty crimes like stealing.

"Interesting suggestion." She cocks her hips, giving you a thoughtful look. "What do you offer if I'll agree to leave right now?" She doesn't know you. She doesn't understand you. There is something about you that gives her strange vibes, makes her look at you as more than a bystander. Has she kept talking because she wants to figure out what is bothering her?

Certainly feels that way. And that means that you might have an opportunity here.

*fake_choice

#I'll erase her doubts, I'm nobody, I can offer nothing. She can rob the place.

#"I won't tell him you were here." I'll try to bargain as a civilian.

#"Your life," I say with a thin smile. Will she believe a threat?