<gumbal1> There's an announcment over the intercom. «Attention, would miss…Jane Doe, please report to Dr. Hershel Reinman's office for an assignment?»
<BobaFettuccine> Jane doesn't know where that office is, or who Hershel Reinman is for that matter. She does, however, know where the administration building is as she has to go there fairly often to correct some detail that has been forgotten off of her records. She teleports into the lobby of the administration building appearing as if she had always been there and it was only just remembered. She immediately asks the receptionist there. "Um, excuse me but… Do you, uh. Do you know where Dr. Reinman's office is?"
<gumbal1> The receptionist, a chubby, fashionable lady of about fifty or so years, looks up. "You're…Jane Doe? Yeah, Hersh is up the stairs, turn right, third room on the left." Adjusting her glasses, the lady squints. "…who're you again? Sorry, I'm bad with names and worse with student faces."
<BobaFettuccine> Jane sighs and nods, "Don't worry about it. You won't remember anyways." She walks up the stairs and follows the directions to the proper door which she opens. The entire time she is wondering about what's going on. She's never been called anywhere before.
<gumbal1> Opening the door, well, it's clear the office still needs a bit of putting up. There's a simple desk, a simple flourescent light, and a few pictures on the wall, of various people. Sitting at the other end of the desk, currently working on a paper, is a peculiar man. Pale, dressed in a striped dress-shirt, with a black peacoat and a red scarf hanging on a rack near the door, with black hair in a ponytail, and a soft face, with only a few wrinkles to betray that this man has seen more than his fair share of summers. There's a nameplaque on the desk, a simple plastic thing declaring it the desk of "DR. HERSHEL REINMAN". Hershel smiles as Jane comes in, though he continues his writing. "Ah, miss Doe. A pleasure to meet you, though I worry I may have that pleasure several times in my dealings with you. How are you today?"
<BobaFettuccine> She smiles back at him, the smile being the only really memorable thing about her, though he'll forget that too in time. "I um. I'm alright. I finished a new book. So that was nice." She stands in front of his desk waiting to be told why she's here, hiding behind her bangs a little bit.
<gumbal1> If she cares to look, it seems like Hershel is writing down a fair bit about this forgettable girl. Perhaps as a memento. "I'm glad. Reading is certainly a good relaxation method for me. Now," One thing Jane may notice is his accent. There's a disctint French tinge to it. "this is going to sound rather odd, but I have a job I think you'd be perfect for. However, it involves…well, wetwork. Tell me, are you okay with this, at least if the circumstances aligned to your liking?"
<BobaFettuccine> Wetwork. Isn't this a school? "Like, um. Spies, and black ops?" she asks, a slight, hesitant shake in her voice, moreso than usual. "I uh. I guess I could do that. If the school needs it. But um, why?"
<gumbal1> "Well, it's…" Hershel finally looks up from his paper. "Certainly like that, in a way. Still, there were several principles this school was founded upon. One of them is a safe world where anomalies and non-anomalies can coexist. Tell me, however. What do you think is the biggest threat to that goal?"
<BobaFettuccine> "Um, well." She looks and sounds uncertain, "Probably uh, regular people trying to get rid of us cause they're scared. Like a giant world endingly powerful bad guy comes along and then the governments decide to kill us all 'just in case'" Jane says, with a small nod. She's pretty sure she read a book with that plotline before.
<gumbal1> "That is certainly one threat. However, the issue is not quite as clear cut as we might hope." Dr. Reinman begins fishing something out from his desk. "Among others are apocalyptic cults, bog-standard fascists looking for a scapegoat, and said, well, giant world endingly powerful bad guy." A file is taken out, to which Dr. Reinman slides over to Jane. "We have a bit of a problem with all three, at the moment. Take a gander." The file is filled with your standard dossier. Some entity known as Baldwolf, allegedly involved in something known as the 'Shadowfall Incident', a nearly averted vacuum metastability event, along with a cult associated with it, populated with a surprising amount of white nationalists and assorted fascists, a statistic the document notes several times. "See what I mean?"
<BobaFettuccine> Jane nods to herself several times while reading the document, and by the end she's frowning severely. "Yeah, um. This is pretty bad. But." She pauses for a moment. "Um. What am I supposed to do?"
<gumbal1> "Flip the page." Flipping it, the document transitions into a more specific dossier on one Karl Schwartz, Jr., a Tennesse politician. Currently on the city council of his hometown, Dahnverburgh, there's a few worrying things about that statement, not the least of which is his surprisingly authoritarian viewpoints, worryingly reactionary policy record, rather tasteless social media comments, and some pretty deep links to the occult, the last of which seems to be heavily underlined and underlined in places. "I want this to be clear. I'm not asking you to kill a fascist. I'm not asking you to kill an occultist. I'm asking you to kill someone who has the power to harm his community rather badly, both in the rights of the people and through the harm incurred by normal people being forced to deal with the occult, and who has the twisted ideology and sociopolitcal motivation to do so. Are you okay with this?"
<BobaFettuccine> Jane thinks for a moment and knows the answer. To earn the approval of this man who was being friendly and trying to take steps to remember her existence. Yes, she would most certainly kill someone but she had to question it at least a little bit first. "Um. Is it important?" She asks, still trying to hide behind her hair.
<gumbal1> "This is more than a politician we are talking about. This is someone with links to both the government, and a violent cult. Could you see how this could be problematic?" Dr. Reinman seems surprisingly calm about asking someone to assassinate a public official. "If he dies, it will be far easier to deal with the rest of Baldwolf's Children."
<BobaFettuccine> She'll take that as a yes, this is important. "Okay then. I'll do it." She says with a tentative nod, handing the folder back to him. She wouldn't forget the contents. She never forgot anything.
<gumbal1> Dr. Reinman smiles just a bit wider. "Thank you. Now, a few things. Right now, it's 1:26 PM in Tennesse. At around 3:30 PM, our friend Schwartz will be taking a ride from the city council building for a late lunch, as he is wont to do. He'll be taking his own car. I want him dead before he reaches the deli. No witnesses to your true form would be preferable. You can teleport, correct?"
<BobaFettuccine> "Yes I can teleport, but I don't know what you mean by true form. I look different depending on where I am, and even if they get any pictures or video it'll fade inside of a day." She tilts her head, memorizing the times. "What will the car look like, and how long of a drive is it? Can I see a map of the city with the deli he's going to marked on it?" She has gained a sudden boost of confidence in both bearing and voice now that she's accepted this job and is focused on something.
<gumbal1> "Ah. That's excellent, then. And…flip the dossier." There's a map of the city. The city hall is around the center of the city, and the deli is around twenty minutes by car, from the looks of it. "I believe he drives a black Ford Mondeo. I'll let you decide how you deal with this."
<BobaFettuccine> She nods, "Are the windows tinted?" she asks as she looks over the dossier, looking for the most likely route the man would take to get to the deli.
<gumbal1> There's a straight shot from city hall to Spud Row, which goes for several miles before turning onto Cantor Blvd, which the Lockwood Deli is located on.
<BobaFettuccine> That would be the most likely then. She turns to him, "I can teleport up to twenty miles at a time as long as I can see where I'm going or I've been there before. I've never been to Tennesse."
<gumbal1> "Hrm." Dr. Reinman nods. "Not ideal, though not unexpected. Would you prefer if someone else were to teleport you instead?"
<BobaFettuccine> She nods, "I'll be able to teleport back using multiple jumps, but getting there in time might be an issue."
<gumbal1> Nodding, Dr. Reinman knocks on the desk three times, and
A forgettable girl by the name of Jane finds herself amongst a bunch of high school students, taking a tour of the city sights.
<BobaFettuccine> She looks around a bit trying to see if there's a street sign around to tell her what street that she's on.
<gumbal1> Johnson Blvd. From the look of the odd, mostly blank file she's carrying in her hands, it's…on the other side of the town. A tan, mousy boy approaches the forgettable girl, left hand fiddling with the hem of his NY Giants jersey. "H-hey."
<BobaFettuccine> She smiles at him and reaches into his mind to make him forget that she was ever here. Then she teleports to the roof of a nearby building. A tall one.
<gumbal1> The city ain't NYC, but it ain't Windvale. Somewhere between Austin and Diane in size. At least, that's what she gets from the view.
<BobaFettuccine> She looks around and tries to orient herself by the mental image of the map she had looked at earlier, where was the corner of Spud row and Cantor Blvd in relation to Johnson? As she's looking around she summons a few rusty sharp bits and bobs of metal and a small purse to carry them in, both the metal and the purse look dusty and forgotten.
<gumbal1> It's, well…definitely pretty far, city-wise. Looks like you've been put on the exact opposite side of the city.
<BobaFettuccine> Wonderful, how very helpful. Jane sights a roof as far towards the street corner she's going for as she can get and teleports there. Repeating the process as necessary until she is on the correct side of the city, once she's there she looks around trying to find some form of clock to tell her what time it is.
<gumbal1> There's not many tall buildings, so the path is easy to decide upon. Eventually, when she does spot city hall, it's on top of an apartment complex. There's one of those street clocks, indicating the time is…1:39 PM.
<BobaFettuccine> Good. She has some time. She goes towards the center of the building she's on top of and summons more sharp metal bits to put in the bag, filling it to about half full, then she summons two glass jars with lids and a canister of model engine fuel. She fills the first glass jar with the fuel and closes it tightly. She then summons a roll of duct tape and a bottle of plant food fertilizer which is high in ammonium nitrate. She pours the plant food into the second glass jar which she also closes tightly. She then duct tapes the two jars together and places them at the bottom of the bag. When it is dropped from a distance and the jars break, the chemicals will mix and then a more or less car sized boom will happen.
<gumbal1> Jane has created a bomb. It…maybe works? Might cause an international incident if she ins't careful, but hey, she does want to be remembered, doesn't she?
<BobaFettuccine> Jane frowns, she's never built a bomb before, maybe there's not enough explosives in there? Maybe it won't go off? Better put some gunpowder in there just to be safe. She reaches into the Forgotten and tries to summon a smallish container of gunpowder.
<gumbal1> Jane has created a bigger bomb. It probably works.
<BobaFettuccine> She nods, satisfied with her handiwork and checks the clock again, how long had it taken her to make a bomb?
<gumbal1> It's 2:31, now. Time flies when you're breaking international law.
<BobaFettuccine> Jane nods to herself, so an hour to find the right car. She summons a fuse and a lighter, she would find the car, teleport into the back, light the fuse when he was almost at the car, the fuse would light the gunpowder after she'd teleported away which would break the jars when he was about to get in. Boom. Then she'd teleport home. She takes her bag and sits for a few minutes, transporting herself to the Forgotten for just a moment to store her homemade explosive there until she needs it again. Then she teleports down to the parking lot of the city hall.
<gumbal1> It's pretty easy to find. The closest parking lot looks like it's reserved for city
officials, or if not, there's a hell of a lot of fancy cars that probably belong to the kind of person who becomes a city official. At the very least, a bunch of those people and one person who drives a black Ford Mondeo.
<BobaFettuccine> She nods to herself and teleports next to the ford looking in the windows to try and see the inside.
<gumbal1> There's not much. If there's anything you can say about him, it's that he keeps his car pretty clean.
<BobaFettuccine> She teleports through the window and lies down on the floor of the car behind the front seat she goes back into the Forgotten for a moment to retrieve her bomb and sets it on the floor next to her, taking her lighter out and getting ready to light the fuse. Keeping an eye out for the man that she's supposed to kill.
<gumbal1> It's some time before anyone shows. However, it's somewhat before 3:30 that Karl actualyl does show, phone to his face. "I don't care! Tell Pilkington I need that vote. Why the hell is he defending a bunch of restaurant druggies, anyways?" *click* "Dahnverburgh goin' to hell…" He's coming to the car!
<BobaFettuccine> When he's about ten seconds away, give or take, she lights the fuse and teleports to the building across the street from City Hall, watching the car to see what happens.
<gumbal1> Okay, everything's normal. He's getting in, and…nothing. He pulls out of the parking lot…nothing. He's driving down the road, and it looks like nothing is goi
<BobaFettuccine> Okay yeah, ow. Ears not doing well with the loud noise, she might have gone a little heavy on the explosives there. Now is not really the time to worry about that though. Now is the time to leave. Quickly.
<gumbal1> The flood gates have been opened, and there doesn't seem to be any metaphorical going back, even as she performs the literal going back.
Complaints about the method will be ignored.
Complaints about the ethical implications will be ignored.
Complaints about the targets will be directed to google.
Baldwolf is still alive. Long live Baldwolf.
-SCENE ENDED, PLOT STARTED-