[Game Thread] Scene 4: Take me out to the ball game

[HexCursed]

Quinn's Coach While the two young ladies are talking, the coach looked through the fence at them, nearly putting his face up against the metal links. "Hey! Quinn. If you've got time to flirt, then you'd got time to sit on the bench. Why don't you just have a seat for the next inning since this game isn't capturing your attention?!" The coaches chiding was met with a few laughs from the people in the stands. A couple of her teammates are less amused.

Cynthia "Okay. Then... forget it. I knew this was a bad idea. I can see that you're not feeling generous and you must be holding something against me. I can't imagine what that is, unless it's about you flirting with me at the party. I guess that I didn't respond how you wanted me to or something silly like that. Does everyone just do what you want? I know that you slept with Bea; and that's fine. Whatever. That was her choice." She stopped herself and regrouped, "Well, it would have been nice if it were her choice. Doesn't sound like it was exactly. You found her when she was vulnerable and took advantage. I guess that's just your style. Then you harassed her about it later. And I wasn't an easy enough of prey for you. So, you're mad at me. But whatever... I don't control you and I wouldn't want to. Go... Be whatever kind of nasty you want to be..." The line disconnected.

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 0/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul "Thanks, coach." Quinn smiles as she says it. It's actually really good advice. The fact that it comes on the heels of what she'd just said makes it hard to connect, though. The lack of a segue. She tries to keep on that track. "You have a good eye for this. Maybe you should join up next year. The girls on the team are all really nice." She wants to keep it light but she can't. Her actual coach interjects into the conversation and Quinn shrinks at the words. Her shoulders hunch and her legs pull up under the bleacher as her body instinctively tries to crawl into itself. Moments of awkward silence build between them as she looks anywhere but at Ash. Quinn isn't great at puzzles but she can recognize a pattern. The library, now here. It's the touching. It has to be. She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry, which makes the words that follow quiet. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." It makes sense. In the library, when she touched Ash and she got all flighty and awkward. And now, when she did it again and Ash changed the subject. It's so obvious in that moment. Ash doesn't like to be touched. At least, not by her. Quinn hates that she didn't catch on sooner. Stupid. Self-involved. Idiot. Why does she always have to freak everybody out? Why can't she just be ****ing normal? Because you aren't normal. You're a freak and everyone can see it. Even the dead can't stand you. "I don't know what to do with my hands most of the time." It's a lame excuse. She sure knows what she'd like to do with them. "I'm just not good at picking up on boundaries." Quinns eyes stay on her lap as she rubs across her knuckles with her thumb until the skin on them is pink and irritated. It stings a little, but its something to focus on. She'd done it again. Made everything weird. And she hadn't even meant to do it. Not like she had with Paul or Luke. She didn't even need that right now. She'd feasted on Pauls desires like a buffet and the urges were quiet. Or...maybe she had meant to and just can't admit it. Maybe the human part of her meant to, the part of her that was raging at going days without comfort. Is she...totally into Ash? Is she so messed up that she wants anyone who is remotely nice to her? Or is it because Ash is tied up with Morgan? Is she just that broken? "I'll do better." Quinn feels that pressure building around her eyes, behind her cheeks and forehead. The threat of tears that she most definitely will not allow here. Not in this place, with all these people. The soup of emotions churns in her. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Guilt. The things that form the mortar that seals the bricks of her emotional walls. She can rebuild them with this, one brick at a time. She needs to. Being a bundle of raw nerves, of unrestrained emotion, sounds fun until you're mired in it and you've driven off all the people you want to be close to. Wouldn't everything be easier if she just packed her duffel and drove as far as her cash would take her? Leave this place and all the baggage behind? "I better get back down there." Picking up the cap, she starts working the braid back through to seat it back on her head. Her eyes follow the ground at her feet as she climbs over the benches between her and the dugout. Its hard for her to tell whether she feels worse about what she did to Ash or what she did to the team, but she can't bring her eyes up to look at any of them. Normally she feels good about her relationship with the coach. She's a dedicated player and she's pretty good. Not a pro but pretty good. How could he call her out like that? Her skin burns red under her collar, color bleeding up her face and across freckled cheeks as she stews on the words. See. Everyone knows. They all laugh about it. You aren't fooling anyone. And then that voice gets real mean. Imagine what your dad is gonna do.

[Starflier]

Ash Hot -1 Cold +2 Volatile -1 Dark +1 Exp 4/5, Harm 0/5, Take 1 Forward, Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, TraumatizedAsh, the Ghost Ash listened as Quinn spoke. She was smart enough to know that she needed to say something, but apparently not smart enough to figure out what that was until after Quinn was already walking away. At that point shouting after her friend would only make matters worse for Quinn, so Ash sat and thought about things while the game continued on. It took her time to get her head straight, the feeling of fingers gently caressing her cheek plaguing her thoughts; if only she could tell if it was Morgan’s touch or Quinn’s that had her so rattled. Figuring out things with Morgan was probably more of a challenge than Ash was really capable of handling, but she saw things there that other people couldn’t see, didn't see. It had been Morgan’s idea to keep things simple, casual, and yet Ash still remembered the serious, emotional conversation they’d had in the bathroom. The whole thing was confusing. Ash was pretty sure the situation with Quinn wasn’t going to be any less complicated, if only because she was still trying to figure out what Quinn wanted. She was still getting to know Quinn, and Ash was pretty sure they could be good friends, best friends, maybe. The kind of friend she’d never really had before in her life, and the thought of losing that was terrifying. Was a kiss worth the risk? Maybe it was. Then there was the most important question, perhaps the most dangerous: What do I want? ”Damn,” she muttered through gritted teeth, the ballgame in front of her catching her attention again. Looking at the field, Ash wasn’t sure what was going on, but a look at the scoreboard cleared that right up as she realized she’d been lost in her thoughts for over an inning. ”Damn.” Glancing over her shoulder at Cynthia and the rest of them, she couldn’t help but wonder how nice it must be to have everything figured out, to be so comfortable in your own skin. Ash hated them for that even as she envied them, but she definitely didn’t want that. She didn’t want to have everything figured out; where was the fun in that? Well, maybe it would be nice to have a few things figured out. She glanced over at the dugout, trying to find Quinn amongst the players milling about and offered a small wave when she spotted her. The only thing she really knew was that she was going to find Quinn after the game and try to talk to her alone, away from all these people.   The Ghost Skin: The Ghost Look: Pained eyes Origin: Murdered in hot passion Stats: Hot -1, Cold 2, Volatile -1, Dark 1 Exp: 4 / 5 (Accepted temptations from Morgan x2, Unresolved Trauma x1, Accepted temptation from DP) Harm: 0 / 4 Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, Traumatized Take 1 forward (Shutdown on Balvinder) Strings on others: Tommy - 1 Luke - 1 Morgan - 1 Quinn - 1 You become invisible, unnoticeable. No one can see you, feel you, or hear your voice. You can still affect inanimate objects, but this is your only avenue of communication. You escape your Darkest Self when someone acknowledges your presence, and demonstrates how much they want you around.Darkest Self When you have sex with someone, you both get to ask a question of one another. This can be asked in character or player-to-player. They must answer honestly and directly.Sex Move Moves Whenever something brings to mind your death, you choke up and gain the Condition traumatized if you don’t have it already. Whenever someone helps you resolve this Condition, you both mark experience.Unresolved Trauma When you help someone resolve a Condition, gain a String on them.Helpful Spirit You can walk through walls and fly.Limitless

[Acathala]

Tommy sighs and texts both Cynthia and Beatrix.Sorry. I’ll speak to Balvinder. You caught me at a bad moment. To be clear, I’m doing this for Beatrix.

Once that is sent, he calls Balvinder. If there’s no service in fairy land, he leaves a message. "Hey it’s Tommy. I kinda need to talk to you." He’s really bloody annoyed that Cynthia is trying to frame him as some sort of sexual predator. The worst of it is, she’ll probably succeed.

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 0/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul The game doesn't help. She simmers on the bench as the rest of her team takes their at bats. At the change over she watches Monica take her spot in the infield. Monica? Monica can't short stop to save her life. Quinn is all legs, she can move. She's a base runner and a fielder. Monica is 5 foot nothing and average at best. Again she rubs her thumb across her knuckles until the skin is red and angry. The other team cycles batters but Quinn doesn't watch, her eyes on the concrete under her feet. She can't really understand why, if she loves baseball as much as she knows she does, her mind can only focus on Ash now. When the sides change over again and her team piles back into the dugout, Quinns ears are open. She can hear the whispers. She can see the side-eyed glances and the laughter hidden behind hands. The players go up to bat, and she waits out her spot as the coach insisted. Her anger begins to cool, her body unable to keep up a non-stop production of adrenaline to fuel it. And with that, her head clears a bit. Why does she care what these people think? Her eyes lift to sweep across the crowd in the stands. Cynthia. Paul. Over-invested moms and dads. Ex-players who peaked in their high school years. Who are they to make her feel bad? Another switch and now Quinn's back in the game, on the field and ready. Not so ready, honestly. Her head isn't in it. Her head is elsewhere. Where the anger had faded, confusion found root. She's struggled with this her whole life. Knowing who she is. Being that person. Back when she was a nobody she only had to worry about herself. What she thought of it. Now, with her shift in personality, people take notice because she makes them and that brings bad with the good. A spotlight on her. Her thoughts are heavy enough to slow her reactions and she lets a grounder through, putting a player on second. Stupid, but it doesn't bother her as much as it should. I know what you're thinking, and it's a bad idea. Every idea seems like a bad idea now. But she is thinking it. About how tired all this hiding makes her. About how sad. She's dead, dammit. If she can't be honest about herself now when can she ever be? A crack and her eyes follow the ball in a lazy arc. Backpedal, shift to the left, hand open and she feels the solid connection of ball and leather. One down. She digs her heels into the dirt and readies for the next. You're going to shame your family. More than normal. She's always had thoughts like this. Always had a voice in her head that is more cruel than any bully could be. But since she died it is so much louder, and so much more insightful. Another base hit, then a fly to right field that Cassie scoops up to close out the inning. Trucking back to the dugout, she stops at the cooler and drains a cup of water. Pulling the cap off and dabbing the sweat from her face with a cloth, she looks to the fading sunlight on the horizon and then to where Ash had been. Ash waves, and it means everything. It pushes hard against those doubts and the voice that inspires them. Quinn waves back, the smile taking a place on her face without her realizing it. Ash doesn't hate her. That's nonsense. Ash is her friend, and you have to be honest with your friends. The batting order cycles and Quinn finds herself at the plate. Nobody on, nobody to bring home, so she takes Ashs advice. A slight lean in, a shift on her lead foot and the pitch comes far too close. It catches her on her side just above the hip and the pain is jarring but she savors it. Feeling. Trotting down the baseline to first, she rolls her shoulders again. Now her head is in the game. A three step lead. It's enough to cause the pitcher to pivot in a pick-off attempt but she beats the throw back to first by seconds. Quinn is good at this, and damn if she is gonna let her stupid brain screw it up. Another three step lead, and she's off the moment the ball leaves the pitcher's hand. She's all legs, after all. Her stride carries her further than most, and she dives to second. Safe. One base stolen. She dusts herself off and points down the line toward the third base player. A warning. Quinn is worried. Not about the game. About what will happen after. But it has to happen. The bat cracks and she's moving, stomping a foot on third as the left fielder tries to cut off the first base runner. The base coach signals her to stop and she doesn't want to, but she does. She doesn't have to be the star. Another batter, another hit and she crosses home plate. It's a solid point. Not flashy, but as the numbers on the scoreboard change she descends into the dugout and moves through it. "Bathroom." She doesn't stop as she passes the coach, giving only that explanation. Moving toward the outbuilding where the bathrooms are housed, she follows the pathway past Ash and motions for the other girl to follow. Stopping at the water fountains by the building, she drinks deep and then turns to see if Ash will show. Hope and fear, always an intoxicating cocktail, mingle under her skin. You're making a mistake.

[Starflier]

Ash Hot -1 Cold +2 Volatile -1 Dark +1 Exp 4/5, Harm 0/5, Take 1 Forward, Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, TraumatizedAsh, the Ghost Ash smiles when she sees Quinn take her advice, especially when she scores a few plays later. Cheering as loudly as anyone, she watches Quinn head into the dugout before leaving towards the washrooms. She motions for Ash to follow, and Ash sees the opportunity she has been hoping for; a chance to speak to Quinn and to clear the air. Well, time to put up or shut up, I guess. She stands up and nearly succumbs to her own nagging fears, imagining some circuitous route that gets her there unnoticed, but turns and heads straight to the washrooms instead. Up ahead of her she sees Quinn straighten up from the water fountain and head inside, and it’s all very real from there on. She doesn’t dare look back for fear of judgment breaking her nerve, heading straight up to the door and slipping inside. It doesn’t take long to adjust to the weak interior lights, her eyes having long ago become accustomed to darkness. She spots Quinn and steps closer, giving her the chance to speak first.   The Ghost Skin: The Ghost Look: Pained eyes Origin: Murdered in hot passion Stats: Hot -1, Cold 2, Volatile -1, Dark 1 Exp: 4 / 5 (Accepted temptations from Morgan x2, Unresolved Trauma x1, Accepted temptation from DP) Harm: 0 / 4 Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, Traumatized Take 1 forward (Shutdown on Balvinder) Strings on others: Tommy - 1 Luke - 1 Morgan - 1 Quinn - 1 You become invisible, unnoticeable. No one can see you, feel you, or hear your voice. You can still affect inanimate objects, but this is your only avenue of communication. You escape your Darkest Self when someone acknowledges your presence, and demonstrates how much they want you around.Darkest Self When you have sex with someone, you both get to ask a question of one another. This can be asked in character or player-to-player. They must answer honestly and directly.Sex Move Moves Whenever something brings to mind your death, you choke up and gain the Condition traumatized if you don’t have it already. Whenever someone helps you resolve this Condition, you both mark experience.Unresolved Trauma When you help someone resolve a Condition, gain a String on them.Helpful Spirit You can walk through walls and fly.Limitless

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 0/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul The seconds feel like hours and when the door swings open for Ash to step through Quinn almost jumps out of her skin. She starts forward but stops short as Ash closes the distance toward her. Quinns spacing is very deliberate, five good steps away, but she doesn't shrink back if Ash moves closer. She tucks her hands behind her, interlocking her fingers to keep them there. "Coach was a dick but he wasn't wrong." It feels weird but she needs to start there. Where she shriveled under the scrutiny. The way she'd withdrawn at the sniping comment, the way she'd run. It was the worst way to end that conversation. "Look, I know I'm a lot. I'm loud. And angry. And I can be mean." She hadn't really thought of what she'd say if this moment came. It was enough to force herself into the moment in the first place. The words just keep coming, freed from a prison deep inside her after so long. "But I'm really just scared. All the time. Scared of what I'm thinking, or feeling. Of people knowing..." She stops, trying to rein in the flood of words that jockey to be part of the conversation. "I have...complicated feelings for you, Ash. That's really hard for me to say." A beat, a breath slowly inhaled as she considers how easily that could be misread. "Not because of who you are. Because of who I am." She takes a step forward, but only one, and slips the fingers of her right hand under the left sleeve of her undershirt. It isn't exactly cool enough to warrant the extra layer but Quinn always wears layers. "I grew up with a very specific idea of what is right and wrong." She laughs a bit on the tail of it, a hitching nervous chuckle that is nothing about humor. "My parents would absolutely lose their minds if I told them I like girls." She hesitates for a moment, then pulls the sleeve up and rolls her hand so the underside of her forearm is up. Three red welts, each about the width of a narrow belt. Fresh enough to not have yet turned to mottled bruises. "This was for the trouble in school, and that's not even a sin." She turns her eyes back to Ashs as she pulls the sleeve back down. Her hand moves forward briefly before she catches herself and tucks her arms behind her back. "And I don't mean that this is easier for you than for me but..." She's drifting, and she shakes her head against the desire to follow that tangent away from what comes next. "I am bad at picking up on signals. Really bad, lately. So maybe I'm way off and maybe you don't want to talk about this. It's fine. You can go back to the stands and I'll go back to the field and I'll bury all of this. I'm real good at that." And she would hate it. So many times in her life she's hidden her feelings. It would be awful, but she would do it. "But I'm tired of pretending like I don't want to kiss you. And maybe you want to kiss me, too?" Quinn searches Ashs face for any sign of guidance in that. Any tell that might indicate her feelings. She pushes forward with those thoughts, in on the honesty train a hundred percent. "And if you want to go somewhere and talk about it, we could do that. After the game? Or now? Anywhere is fine." Her hands are shaky, held tight around each other, and her right foot rocks heel to toe with a jittery motion. "I guarantee I can get ejected from this game." And she would. She is certain of it now. Turns out there is something she would sacrifice baseball for. "I know we both have unresolved stuff with other people." She releases her hands to extend her arms in either direction, making a quick spin as she speaks to indicate the room around them. "But it's just you and me here." It isn't fair. She has no idea what Morgan or Luke might be involved in right now. And she can only imagine what's happening between Morgan and Ash is as uncertain as what's happening between Luke and her. Fair or not, this is about her and Ash. Nobody else. She doesn't close the distance. She doesn't reach for Ash. This is as far as she is willing to place herself here, what seems to be halfway. The other half feels like it may as well be a million miles, but maybe for Ash it seems like less than that. Quinn really hopes it does. "Do you...want to talk to me?"

[Acathala]

Tommy looks for his friend Heidi. Once he finds him, he sits on the ground to talk to him. "I’m really worried about Beatrix. I suspect Cynthia has been gaslighting her for yonks. Probably Piper too. I’m worried that Cynthia has done such a good job I can’t help Beatrix. Maybe I’m just not good enough to help her. Even with all my magic I have." He lapses into gloomy silence as he imagines Beatrix trapped forever under the thumb of Cynthia. Worse still, he suspects if there was a choice between getting revenge on Cynthia, or getting Beatrix away from her, he would choose the former. Was he really nice and kind as he claimed to Quinn, or was he merely good at lying to himself? Lord knows he knew that Beatrix and him would have a limited shelf life. Though this whole thing started because he was young and dumb to do things to impress her. Cynthia’s words about him taking advantage of Beatrix, really bleebing annoyed him. The attempt at gaslighting to try to ruin his reputation, and the memory of what he thought of as one of the best of his life, meant to make him afraid, just made him more determined.

Then there was Quinn, and the unexpected revelation he thought she is hot. She’s another complication on a sea of complications. If Heidi hadn’t interrupted them, he would have had sex, making it a flood of complications. Her condition makes it hard to tell if she actually wants him, or it’s the undead hunger that does. If he could just forget about vengeance and Beatrix, maybe he could be happy. However, in his own way, Tommy had his own hunger, that must be satisfied.

There was something else. "Ashraqat has been in our home. Ruined preparations. I now can’t bind the werewolf. And the bitch can do it all again, and I have no way of stopping her." Tommy felt violated. She had been his home, his sanctuary where he was supposed to feel safe. How could he, when Ashraqat could pop in whenever she damn well felt like it, and destroy or steal his stuff. Oh god, she’s been through his private and personal stuff. Hell, she could jam all the doors, set fire to his home, trapping both Heidi and himself inside. Whilst that last scenario seemed unlikely, he had been fooled before. Ashraqat could be Cynthia mark 2. Even worse, as Ashraqat had supernatural abilities. Tommy hates that ever growing list of supernatural people.

[Starflier]

Ash Hot -1 Cold +2 Volatile -1 Dark +1 Exp 4/5, Harm 0/5, Take 1 Forward, Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, TraumatizedAsh, the Ghost The words and emotions pour out of Quinn and flow over Ash like a river, and she wants to smile, wants to weep, wants to take Quinn in her arms and hold her close. Ash doesn't do any of those things, doesn't do anything, however, because she wants to hear those words almost as much as Quinn needs to say them. Needs to be heard. Needs to be seen. Needs to be loved. It wasn’t until she saw the welts on Quinn’s arm that Ash moved, only a half step forward with her left foot, but already her right hand was balled into a fist, hidden behind her hip. She felt a white hot flash of rage that she hadn’t really felt since she’d been alive, and yet before it could overwhelm her there was something holding her back; saving her from her own worst impulses. Don’t. Please don’t. The fist relaxes and the anger fades, not forgotten perhaps, but tucked away somewhere it can’t interfere in what comes next. She doesn’t need that from you. Ash knows that words have never been her strong suit, sometimes finding them, and sometimes fumbling them so badly she might as well be playing for the Packers. Quinn's heart lies bared before her, and she knows she can’t afford to screw this up, and so she goes with the only word that really matters. ”Yes.” The word hangs there alone in the space between them, defiant against the silence, as she swallows hard and steps close enough to reach for Quinn’s hand. ”Yes, I do, to all of it, but not here. Come to my place after the game, okay? We can sit and talk, or watch a movie, or whatever you want. Please?” She turns her eyes up at Quinn with a smile, ”Yes, after the game, because that other short stop is just awful. You’ve got to get back out there.” OOC Ash will spend her string on Quinn, offering an experience point to tempt her to come back to Ash’s place after the game.   The Ghost Skin: The Ghost Look: Pained eyes Origin: Murdered in hot passion Stats: Hot -1, Cold 2, Volatile -1, Dark 1 Exp: 4 / 5 (Accepted temptations from Morgan x2, Unresolved Trauma x1, Accepted temptation from DP) Harm: 0 / 4 Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, Traumatized Take 1 forward (Shutdown on Balvinder) Strings on others: Tommy - 1 Luke - 1 Morgan - 1 You become invisible, unnoticeable. No one can see you, feel you, or hear your voice. You can still affect inanimate objects, but this is your only avenue of communication. You escape your Darkest Self when someone acknowledges your presence, and demonstrates how much they want you around.Darkest Self When you have sex with someone, you both get to ask a question of one another. This can be asked in character or player-to-player. They must answer honestly and directly.Sex Move Moves Whenever something brings to mind your death, you choke up and gain the Condition traumatized if you don’t have it already. Whenever someone helps you resolve this Condition, you both mark experience.Unresolved Trauma When you help someone resolve a Condition, gain a String on them.Helpful Spirit You can walk through walls and fly.Limitless

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 2/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul The moment of silent air between them is so thick that it presses on Quinns chest and forces the air out of her lungs. One word either way will bring closure to this awful, beautiful moment. And Quinn is so happy when that word is yes, her hand reaching out to meet Ashs own invitation. She closes both her hands around the other girls hand and brings them close as her body loses its rigid, anxious posture. "Thank god." She closes her eyes as she says it, resting her forehead against their bundled hands. Until that moment Quinn was all taut wires and sparking electricity. She genuinely had no idea how Ash would react to what she'd said. One yes is all it takes to flood her body with calm, to unbind her muscles and restart her heart. Her head lifts again and her eyes are wet, but they are tears she is happy to feel. "I know I said I would be cool if..." She can't even form the words, the very thought of how this could have gone wrong too much to consider. "It would have sucked so bad if I was wrong." She inhales slow, able to control her own breathing again, and she nods as Ash makes her own request. "Yes." Quinn repeats that word and lets it hang the way Ash had done only moments ago. But she can't play it that cool for long. "Yes, please. That would be perfect." When Ash smiles, Quinn matches it. The dig at Monica widens that smile into a grin. She slowly releases Ashs hand and nods, turning to the sink and running water into her palms. Splashing that across her face, she grabs a paper towel and dabs away the excess from her chin and neck. "Okay. I'll play." She stares at Ashs reflection in the mirror, then turns and walks toward the door but she doesn't make it past Ashs orbit. Her eyes seek out and latch onto Ashs as she lingers there, close but so much further than she hopes to be. The bathroom is terrible. Peeling gray paint marked up with Sharpie, sickly fluorescents long past their prime, bleach lingering in the air. But Ash can make any place beautiful. "Doesn't seem fair to the other team, though." She moves on to the door, grabbing the handle with a tight grip and turning back over her shoulder to see Ash in this moment one last time. "You know. Cause it feels like I already won." She slips through to the outside and when the door closes behind her she drops every bit of her facade at being cool. The motion is an excited celebration, feet kicking against the ground as she runs in place while spinning around, her left arm lifting into a fist pump as she stage whispers through her teeth. "Yes!" One finger points accusingly at the sky despite her next muttered words being directed toward something inside herself. "You hear that, stupid voice in my head? She likes me. Not so cocky now?" For the first time in as long as she can remember, the voice doesn't respond. Taking a moment to collect herself, and shooting a hard look at anyone who might have caught all that, Quinn sprints back out to the dugout. What's higher than Cloud 9? Cloud 9 1/2? Cloud 11? Yeah...Quinn is on Cloud 11 and the other team is gonna feel it.

OOC String Tempt absolutely accepted.

[Starflier]

Ash Hot -1 Cold +2 Volatile -1 Dark +1 Exp 4/5, Harm 0/5, Take 1 Forward, Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, TraumatizedAsh, the Ghost Ash watched Quinn leave, her own smile almost as bright as the ballplayer as the door closed behind her. Her smile faded quickly, however, as she turned her eyes back to the mangled, broken girl staring back at her from the mirror. ”Thanks for that.” Hey, no problem, Ash, the thought came as the corpse smiled to reveal a mouthful of bloody, broken teeth. Can’t exactly enjoy watching you fall if I don’t help you up in the first place. ”You’re kind of a bitch, Ash.” Turning away from the grotesque image with a grimace, Ash headed towards the door with the faint laughter of a dead girl echoing in her mind. Pausing near the door, she glanced back at the mirror and saw only herself, her own smile returning as she pushed aside the darkness and thought of what lay outside.   The Ghost Skin: The Ghost Look: Pained eyes Origin: Murdered in hot passion Stats: Hot -1, Cold 2, Volatile -1, Dark 1 Exp: 4 / 5 (Accepted temptations from Morgan x2, Unresolved Trauma x1, Accepted temptation from DP) Harm: 0 / 4 Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, Traumatized Take 1 forward (Shutdown on Balvinder) Strings on others: Tommy - 1 Luke - 1 Morgan - 1 You become invisible, unnoticeable. No one can see you, feel you, or hear your voice. You can still affect inanimate objects, but this is your only avenue of communication. You escape your Darkest Self when someone acknowledges your presence, and demonstrates how much they want you around.Darkest Self When you have sex with someone, you both get to ask a question of one another. This can be asked in character or player-to-player. They must answer honestly and directly.Sex Move Moves Whenever something brings to mind your death, you choke up and gain the Condition traumatized if you don’t have it already. Whenever someone helps you resolve this Condition, you both mark experience.Unresolved Trauma When you help someone resolve a Condition, gain a String on them.Helpful Spirit You can walk through walls and fly.Limitless

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 2/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul Another inning, another side change and Quinn is perched on the bench of the dugout awaiting her turn at bat. Not sulking, not sullen. Practically vibrating with excited energy. She brings her hands together in front of her, pushing palm against palm and flexing the muscles in her forearms in preparation for the coming swings. Her eyes fall to her left wrist, to the two leather bracelets that cling to it. Both stamped with tiny metal lettering. Jesus Saves. Each bracelet bears the statement, and opposite it is the names. Quinn M. Devon M. They'd stamped those letters themselves at bible camp when she was 10. The cops turned his over with his effects after the crash. She put it on that day and never took it off. Devon. Three years and she can't put it behind her. Nor should she. Storm clouds threaten to fill her mind but she's in too good a place to falter. She sneaks a look to where Ash was sitting, covering it with an exaggerated back stretch. When her time comes up she takes the field with a stride, bat resting over her shoulders and arms hooked over it. A slow lean to the right as she nears the plate and she lets it slide free, catching it mid-fall. A tap to each shoe despite the cleats lacking any dirt to knock free. It's entirely performative and its so very Quinn. She lines up at the plate and draws in a breath. Hold. Hold. Release. The pitcher draws back and the ball comes in fast. She lets it go. Strike one. It's digging in the center of her mind like a tick. A question. She digs her back foot into the dirt and deepens her breathing. Another pitch, low and outside, and she lets it go. That's not the one. She needs all the bases. Is it so far-fetched a thought? It happened to her. And it happened to Ash. Hell, even Morgan got a free pass. Quinn lowers her shoulder and swings hard at the next pitch. Ball meets bat and it flies high and far. She can't tell if it has the distance but it doesn't matter. She's off like a shot toward first. It wouldn't have to be like with her, right? Ash isn't like her. She's more...acceptable. It could be like that for Devon, too. Her feet pound the dirt as she rounds the base and pivots just enough to make that turn toward second. Her vision narrows, her heartbeat slows. Yeah, just like before. Like Tommy said. She opens herself to the other part of her. The hungry, angry part. Just enough to feel the pull of intuition. Can I bring my brother back?

OOC I would like use the opportunity of doing what Quinn does to cut off her brain here to Gaze Into the Abyss. She would like to know if it is possible to bring her brother back from the dead. Grim, I know. But think of the possible blowback if I screw this up? Dice Gaze, No Bonuses: 2d6-1 (3, 5)-1 Total = 7

[HexCursed]

The Abyss Answers A deep, masculine voice answered out of nothingness. "Anything is possible, dear Quinn, if one is ready to bear the cost. And the price for restoring a life would no doubt be great. I believe your philosophers came up with a thought experiment called the Trolly Problem. What is Davon's life worth to you?"

[Starflier]

Ash Hot -1 Cold +2 Volatile -1 Dark +1 Exp 4/5, Harm 0/5, Take 1 Forward, Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, TraumatizedAsh, the Ghost ”Yeah, Quinn, hit it like it owes you money!” Ash clapped as Quinn proceeded to crush the ball, cheering loudly as she got to her feet to watch Quinn running towards first base. She was all nerves, sick to a stomach she didn’t have from overthinking what was coming after the game, but for a brief moment she had a reprieve from all that as she just enjoyed watching some baseball. Watching Quinn round the bases, she couldn’t help but wonder what her friend was thinking about. Is she as nervous as I am? She hadn’t been so in her head with Morgan, but then again that was such a different situation, and Morgan was a very different person. Morgan isn’t afraid of being hurt. Ash shook her head at the thought, thinking back on the chat in the washroom and calling herself out on her own crap. Morgan’s just better than the rest of us at hiding her fear. To make matters even weirder, Ash spared a glance down at the shirt she was still wearing, the shirt that wasn’t hers. What was she even going to say to Quinn later? Sure, she’d kissed girls like Quinn had said, but she’d never really talked to them. She’d never had girlfriends, let alone girlfriends. This was all new to her and she wasn’t feeling nearly as cool about it as she would have liked. At least the baseball was giving herself something else to focus on for a little while; giving her time to organize a few thoughts.   The Ghost Skin: The Ghost Look: Pained eyes Origin: Murdered in hot passion Stats: Hot -1, Cold 2, Volatile -1, Dark 1 Exp: 4 / 5 (Accepted temptations from Morgan x2, Unresolved Trauma x1, Accepted temptation from DP) Harm: 0 / 4 Conditions: Foolish, Morbid, Traumatized Take 1 forward (Shutdown on Balvinder) Strings on others: Tommy - 1 Luke - 1 Morgan - 1 You become invisible, unnoticeable. No one can see you, feel you, or hear your voice. You can still affect inanimate objects, but this is your only avenue of communication. You escape your Darkest Self when someone acknowledges your presence, and demonstrates how much they want you around.Darkest Self When you have sex with someone, you both get to ask a question of one another. This can be asked in character or player-to-player. They must answer honestly and directly.Sex Move Moves Whenever something brings to mind your death, you choke up and gain the Condition traumatized if you don’t have it already. Whenever someone helps you resolve this Condition, you both mark experience.Unresolved Trauma When you help someone resolve a Condition, gain a String on them.Helpful Spirit You can walk through walls and fly.Limitless

[NoizePollution]

Quinn Hot -1 Cold +1 Volatile +2 Dark -1 Exp 2/5; Harm 0/4; BullyQuinn, the Ghoul On the outside, she is running. Boundless, heedless, toward her goal. On the inside, however, she is frozen. That voice. It isn't the usual voice in her head. And this isn't the way it was last time. As her foot hits second base and she round toward third, her mind is tearing at the seams. A voice? Invading, but not uninvited. Is this what Tommy meant by dark power? Is this who he deals with when he seeks? "Who?" It isn't really a question. Not one she'd expect an answer to. She's stalling. Trying to get a handle on this. She grew up with stories of faustian bargains. Of the devil's temptations. Of silver forked tongues and impossible costs. And she still believes, in the core of herself, that there is a God and a devil. That there is a heaven and a hell. "Is this real?" Her feet pound harder on the dirt as she moves in autopilot, her attention fully devoted to the scene playing out in her mind. You don't deal with the devil. You can't win. He made the rules, he knows the limits. Everything inside her, on the surface level, screams at her to ignore this. To turn her back on it. To stay true to her upbringing and hope there is enough forgiveness in the world. "What is it worth?" But she is more than whats on the surface. And the deeper parts are laden with scars. Scars built from guilt and anger and fear. Scars that she opens up everytime she hears a car horn blare or sees her mother at the kitchen table flipping through the old photo albums. And what does it matter if she deals with the devil? If any of that is real, if God and hell exist, then she has already written her ticket. She will burn, and she'll deserve the heat. You can't do what she's done and not pay the price. So what if the price is a little bit higher? What more can she sacrifice to make things right for the people she's hurt? "It's worth anything." She doesn't feel her foot hit third base. She doesn't see the base coach signaling her to stop. She can't stop. Won't stop. She has to run, to keep running. But is it toward this new and terrible thing, or away? Her mind simmers, waiting on the cost. "It's worth everything."