The Mysterious Miss Direction - vol. 01

You crash through the window just as the building comes down around you. Not more than a second after a miraculous landing on the asphalt of the street you are showered with dust, ash, and small bits of concrete propelled outward by the force of the collapsing building. It takes a minute for the dust to settle; allowing you to get a view of your surrounding. Most of the former residents of the apartment building ran for cover behind cars or mailboxes. They still received a healthy covering of dust which floats up from their hands as they clap and cheer your reappearance.

The applause is short lived as Matchstick also reappears shortly after you. Like a shooting star he comes torpedoing straight down out of the sky. "Bombs away!" the maniac shouts at the top of his longs as his whole body engulfed in flames heads straight for you. You manage to tumble out of the way at the last second only to be tossed another 10 feet back by the resulting shock wave as Matchstick slams into the ground.

From inside the newly formed crater you can hear him cackling. He uses his flames to lighten the air around him and hold him in a floating position directly above the crater. He looks a little worse for where now, with blood trickling from his ear and his suit torn to shreds. He turns his head at the sound of fire engines approaching from the distance.

"Sounds like our little play date is about to come to an end. Time to finish this!" Matchstick open his mouth wide and fire screams out toward you.

---

Dice Pool Limit - 6
Miss Direction - 2 HP

Threat Ratings
Boss: Matchstick - 2 HP

Man, this guy does not give up! she thinks to herself as Matchstick makes his landing and prepares for his attack. Lucky for her, an attack like that severely hinders the man's ability to see her since he's likely going to be closing his eyes with the effort or in an attempt to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the flame. Perfect for her as she makes a standing leap, far higher than any normal person can, and somersaults in the air towards the man.

Her fingers press her deck until the cards arch as the flies through the air, the ground not making up its mind on which direction it would like to stay in, until the cards fly forward in a tight cylinder. She grabs the cards, now a solid, heavy pole, and watches as the cards towards the end fan out and grow heavy as they form a large, colorful mallet. Taking it in both hands, she feels the momentum of her consecutive flips through the air make it feel heavier and heavier until finally, her movement stops.

With a dainty laugh, she lands with feathery-lightness on Matchstick's head with one foot. She can feel his confusion as he tenses up and begins to look upward at her. With a wide grin, she lifts her foot again, as if to jump away, but stays perfectly still above him as the massive weight of the hammer begins to swing down in an arc at the back of his head. She knew it wouldn't kill him. Her magic was weird like that, and everything she did was decidedly non-lethal, but it would certainly put an end to this game of theirs for tonight if he didn't move out of the way in time.

The hammer bonks Matchstick square in the back of the head, sending him falling to the ground in a heap. The crowd erupts into applause and highs fives each other which completely drowns out the sound of Matchstick chuckling to himself. As you walk over to what you think is a fallen foe, he suddenly rolls over to reveal the massive orb of fire he had been making beneath himself. He thrusts his arms outward and the ball explodes when it impacts your chest sending you flying through the air and into the crater.

You try to regain your composure as quickly as possible but the unexpected attack extracts a heavy toll. By the time Matchstick's smiling face crests the top of the crater you find that you're muscles are still refusing to cooperate. Sirens from the approaching fire trucks grow louder and force Matchstick's smile into a frown.

"I wish they could stay out of this because I could do this all night. But all good things must come to an end." Matchstick closes his eyes in concentration; holding his hands out in front of himself while motioning upward. You can feel the ground begin to rumble beneath you and you plead with your arms and legs to start functioning before it is to late. You can feel and hear the earth parting beneath you until the very ground itself explodes upward. Only a small layer of crumbled asphalt and dirt protects you from the stream of fiery magma that propels you 30 feet into the air.

---

Dice Pool Limit - 6
Miss Direction - 0 HP

Threat Ratings
Boss: Matchstick - 1 HP

The heat and the impact pull the air from Miss Direction's lungs as she rockets towards the sky. At least now, her limbs were beginning to move, albeit slowly, with the rush of adrenaline that comes when one begins to fall from a great height. Well, thirty feet isn't great, but it certainly isn't good. It does give her a second or two to think of a new plan of attack.

Up close and personal isn't working. She's not a brawler, and this guy is clearly more accustomed to getting down and dirty in a fight, even without his power. She needs to fall back on her specialty if she wants to come out of this alive, or, in the least, without a visit to the hospital.

Time to show him why they call her Miss Direction.

Now that she had more control of her body again, she lets a cloud of cards fall from her sleeves, shrouding her from view as she plummets to the pavement. The mass of cards shows where her body is, however, and BLAM, she lands in a heap, her body body still obscured. But when Matchstick looks closer at the pile of cards, something doesn't seem right. There should be a body...

The closer he looks, the less he can see the swirl of cards surrounding him that begin to solidify and change, much like the clowns earlier, to look more real. Where once there was a burning building, and a building crowd of onlookers, he now stood in a silent hall of mirrors. In ever mirror, his own reflection looked back at him, and then suddenly, there she was. Idly kicking a card from her pantleg in each of the reflections with a mild look of annoyance, she looks back at him with a smile. From his perspective, she was standing right behind him, but she was only present in the reflections. Her smile widens into a grin, and she strikes a pose like some model for a gameshow.

"Welcome to tonight's show, hothead!" she announces to him. "Time for some real fun, as you decide which is the real me!"

The confusion is plainly visible on Matchstick's soot covered face. He spins about, eyes rapidly flicking from one mirror to the next while his flaming hands sit idle while unsure where to direct his attack. His confusion gives way to complete panic, fear, and finally rage. His fiery fists shake and he closes his eyes to try and get his emotions under control. "No, no, no! This isn't fair. You're messing with my mind. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Flames erupt from his mouth and shoot forward in a blind attack made from pure instinct.

---

Dice Pool Limit - 6
Miss Direction - 0 HP

Threat Ratings
Boss: Matchstick - 1 HP

As one mirror shatters (and falls in a heap of smoldering cards), the reflections of Miss Direction tut and shake their heads sadly in unison. This wasn't necessarily the reaction she was hoping to get, and certainly not the one she expected. Her card tricks were a means to give her a fighting chance at this, not to torment the broken psyche of a damaged man. Regardless of his crimes, she felt bad for toying with him like this.

But it served its purpose.

"Uh oh!" she chimes, her smile returning which an almost sympathetic tint to it, "You've activated my trap card!"

The hall of mirrors begins to crumble around him in a massive wave of cards that swirls with a magical wind in a tighter and tighter arc around him. Suddenly, the tide of cards constricts in an attempt to contain the man from the nose down. She made sure to try and cover his mouth, after witnessing first-hand the damage of the fire breath.

She stands behind him as all of this occurs, his attack getting nowhere near her hiding place. "Game over."

Matchstick makes no effort to stop your efforts. His eyes are vacant and staring off into space. You are left wondering where his head is at as the fire trucks finally pull up and immediately start spraying the burning rumble with water. The crowd runs forward from their hiding places and cheers for your victory even though they just lost their home. A few kids in the crowd mimic your tumbling moves and you hear a little girl asking her mom if she can dress up as Miss Direction for Halloween.

---

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ. It feels like it has only been 10 minutes since your head hit the pillow. Task Force team members were on the scene shortly after you defeated Matchstick and it was a solid hour before you were able to make an exit. Kids wanted hugs and photographs with you, the Task Force wanted details on Matchstick's take down, a reporter from the Daily Legacy was right behind them seeking an exclusive interview.

When you exit your apartment you see Miss Direction's photo on the front page with a crowd of thankful people cheering behind her. MATCHSTICK SNUFFED OUT BY CROWFALL'S NEWEST HERO: MEET MISS DIRECTION reads the headline.

Despite being dreadfully tired, you manage to get to work on time and find Jonas looking grumpy as usual as he sits at his desk filling out paperwork. The delivery of that, hopefully large, donation check should put a genuine smile on his face. If that is possible.

Holly does just that, as she enters the building. She marches right to Jonas's office, slams the check down on the desk, and tells him exactly what he can go do with said check.

At least, that what Holly thinks about as she walks in, daydreaming as her whole body slumps and shambles its way along its path to Jonas's office. With great effort, she raps her knuckles against his office door a few times, and peeks at him through the window, holding up the check, which she still hasn't had the presence of mind to look at. It could just have "Nice try", or "Better luck next time", or any number of dismissive, or far more insulting, things written on it.

Jonas looks up and frowns upon seeing you. He does wave you in but doesn't offer a seat. "What do you need, Morton?" You hand over the check and when he unfolds it his eyes go wide. For the longest time Jonas is completely speechless. "Tell me this is real? If this is some kind of bad joke, you are so fired." He drops the check onto the desk and you instinctively glance at the amount for just a second. In that time your eyes pick up a minimum of eight digits. Jonas's face grows brighter and happier with each passing second.

Jumping out of the his chair, Jonas runs out of the office and shouts for everyone to put down what they are doing for an emergence meeting. He thanks everyone for their hard work and explains that the museum has secured a donation that will keep this place running for a long time to come. Jonas makes sure everyone knows that that the Key family is to be treated as most distinguished guests anytime they come to the museum. No mention of your part in obtaining the donation is mentioned.

Finished with his speech, Jonas dismisses the everyone... well more like he barks at them to stop standing around and get back to work, but a wide smile remains on his face the whole time. When you try to leave, he grabs you by the shoulder and tells you he needs to have a word in his office.

"You know I'm not your personal messenger, right? Don't let that donation go to your head. I'm not going to cut you any slack because you did your job. That is what I expect out of you.

"I don't know what you did to make such a good impression on Avery Key and his son, but you better keep it up tonight. I don't want them voiding this check because you pull some social faux pas." He reaches into his desk and pulls out an envelop addressed to you. The seal has been broken and you have no doubt that Jonas read the letter inside. "Alright, now hurry up and get to work."

When you get downstairs to your work area you take out the letter.

Ms. Morton,

It was a pleasure speaking with you yesterday and I was pleased with everything my son told me all about what he learned. I am hosting a little get together with some friends tonight and would love it if you could attend. Many of my colleagues are just as interested in natural history as my son and I. We would all love to hear more about what you do. I'll have a car pick you up outside your apartment around six.

Sincerely,
Avery Key

Holly feels a bit numb about it all. Sure, she kind of expected Jonas to more-or-less take the credit, or at least, not share the spotlight with her, but she would be lying if she said it didn't sting. Regardless, she could still ride the high of being the main attraction last night. She memories of it still filled her with glee as she thought about her flips and tricks and her battle against Matchstick. And the crowd! Not only did she feel the euphoria of saving all of those people, but to be admired so much for it!

She had to focus on trying to not let it get to her head. Picking at her shirt to try and keep it from rubbing against the salved burns and bandages she was hiding, she read through the letter. She had... mixed feelings. On the one hand, she was eager to get back out tonight and fight more evildoers and save more people... on the other. Well, her powers didn't really include healing. IT would be good for her to take it easy. At least for tonight.

She scratches at the back of her neck trying to think of what she could possibly wear to keep her injuries hidden...

Maybe her mother could help. Going to her desk, she makes the call. "Hello? Mama?"

"Holly? Well this certainly is a surprise to be hearing from you this early in the morning. Oh god, it isn’t something wrong with Patrick again is it? Did he ask you for money?" You spend a few minutes catching up before asking her for help on something to wear tonight.

The letter wasn’t specific but you assume that these high society types will be dressed up. You explain to your mother that you got a nasty burn when a co-worker spilled coffee on you and you’ll need a classy ensemble to keep it covered up tonight.

"Are you asking me to dress you up for a date?" She shushes you when you try to butt in. "Fine, fine fine. Keep your secrets. Well your father and I don’t exactly get out to parties like that too often so I don’t really have anything in my closet that would work... not that we’re even the same size. Cherish your youth, darling. I’ll give a call to-- wait a minute. I think I can make something work." She hangs up the phone before you can respond.

You try to reach her a few more times throughout the day but it always rings busy. It is a tell tale sign you are familiar with where she leaves the phone off the hook when she goes into project mode. By the end of the day any adrenaline of the previous night has long since worn off and you are dead tired and looking forward to a weekend of rest. It is only on your way out when Jonas reminds you to not screw up tonight that you remember the party.

On your way to the bus stop you are greeted by a familiar ‘honk honk’ and find your smiling mother sitting in her car waving you over. There is a plastic garment bag hanging by the hook in the backseat and plate covered in tinfoil in the front. She chides you for looking so thin and then lets you in the car.

The two of you head back to your apartment where she shows you the outfits she has prepared for you to choose from. "You’re lucky I used to make all the costumes back in our performing days. Believe it or not, that’s how I was able to get these done so fast. I took some of my old costumes and modified them into something appropriate to your needs. It may not be some fancy designer label but I am sure my future son-in-law will be impressed when you walk through the door."

"Very lucky," Holly says with a smile as she examines each one of the dresses. "But I'm not-" Not going on a date, she wants to say. But her mother put forward all of this effort, and... well, she didn't want to disappoint her. "That is... I'm sure he won't notice recycled fabrics."

She wish she had told her mother a bit more about the occasion, however, as the cuts of some of them are a bit... alarming. The irony is not lost on her that she dresses up in tights most nights and fights crime, poses for pictures, and generally steals the spotlight, but... she wasn't Miss Direction tonight. She was Holly Morton. And Holly Morton wasn't comfortable showing off that much of her chest.

But, when it came down to it, Holly had very nice legs, a remnant of her gymnastic triumphs and her continued (but secret) pursuits in that field.

Key’s driver shows up exactly at 6 PM and opens the door for you. This time you have the whole car to yourself while Avery and his son must be busy preparing back at home.

You are driven downtown into the super high class neighborhood bordering the park. Your yearly salary might be able to pay for one day of rent in this area. When you arrive the doorman quickly comes to assist you.

"Good evening, ma’am. If you would please follow me." He takes you past the normal elevators and through a locked door where he has to punch in a key code to call a private elevator that takes you up to the home of Avery Key.

The elevator doors open directly to his spacious apartment. At first you think you've arrived at the wrong location. This place almost looks more like a museum than your museum does. Artifacts from all over the world are displayed on the wall or under glass enclosures.

A man you assume to be a butler greets you when you step off the elevator and takes you into the main room where Avery Key and a dozen of so individuals are dressed in tuxedos and gowns. Avery spots you and waves you over.

"This is the young woman I have been telling you about. Everyone, please meet Ms. Holly Morton." Each of his guests in turn introduce themselves. One elderly woman asks if you wouldn’t mind sharing a little more about yourself.

Holly is overwhelmed, to say the least. The opulence of the venue and the fact that she is even standing here, in a homemade dress, talking to what she could assume are the elite of Crowfall, is mind-blowing.

"Well, uh- I work at the Natural History Museum in the restoration department, which is... well, mostly just me and a few interns on the weekends." she says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"What did I tell you? Very modest." Avery remarks. "You really should give yourself more credit for the work you do, Holly." The elevator door opens again and Avery excuses himself to greet the newcomer; leaving you alone with total strangers. Not that you really know Avery all that well either.

"Why don't you take a walk with me, dear." The elderly woman who introduced herself as Harriet Morris takes you by the arm and steers you out of the main room where the guests have gathered. Overhead lights spring to life as the two of you walk down a previously darkened hallway. "Do you have a keen interest in history? Biology? The sciences in general?" Like the entryway, many artifacts are hanging on the walls or placed on stands along both walls of this long hallway. "Tell me what you know about the pieces you see here."

The whole situation is a little odd, but you're not exactly feeling that at the moment. Harriet has a very grandmotherly aura that is keeping you at peace as you look over the assortment of artifacts.

---

Dice Pool Limit: 6

'Threat' Rating
Impress Harriet Morris: 4 (One Round Time Limit)

Holly does her best to sound confident as she walks with Harriet. "Well, I've always taken more of an interest in history, especially when said history has to do with the performing arts." she tells the woman, trying to make it sound as though it were more cultured than just knowing everything there was to know about the history of circuses and stage magicians.

Looking along the walls, she does see a few things that strike her interest, especially since she recognizes a few of the items that have come into the museum on loan. Interesting to think that they came from here, of all places. Coming to a stop in front of a painting, she points out the scene of a single man on a desolate battlefield. "This here is Guillaume de la Chapelle aux Ursins' le Soldat Solitaire or The Lone Soldier," she tells her, pronouncing the french perfectly, though only because it rolled off the tongue nicely, so she memorized it while it was at the museum. "Painted in the late 16th century, many people speculate that it was a depiction of a the reaction of soldiers during the time, when latent super powers began to emerge and the scale of conflicts became far less dependent on large armies, and fell into the hands of these larger-than-life individuals. Though, to tell you the truth, I believe that is only one facet of the true intent, and may be our modern perceptions coloring what would arguably have been a much simpler time, as far as that subject matter is concerned."

She directs the woman's gaze closer, to the actual strokes of the brush. "If you look more closely, you can actually see that some of the pain on this canvas is newer than the rest. When it came to our museum, I was told that it had suffered some damage when it was moved from its original home to Crowfall. It was a bit of a pain to get the shade right, as the pigments they used back then were less... well, synthetic, but you can hardly tell unless someone points it out." she explains with a slight tone of pride.

She goes on to explain a few of the other pieces in the hall, such as a intricately painted vase from the late Han Dynasty. The dark history of it was explained to her by the archaeologist who brought it in, as it was said to be a trap for the souls of those slain in battle, and was carried with Imperial army to capture the souls of the Empire's enemies. She also explains how she was asked to perform a very delicate and special procedure for the vase, which had cracked after being handled for so many centuries. Instead of filling the cracks and making them disappear, she was asked to fill the cracks with gold to accentuate the damage, and show that its history was something to be celebrated, not hidden.

Down she goes, listing off facts she had learned over the years, both from the historical side and from her unique perspective as a restoration specialist.

Harriet's smile widens as you explain in great detail about the artifacts. She does not speak much, but is a very attentive listener. When you reach the end of the hall she thanks you and the two of you return to the party. "It is very nice to see a young woman like yourself so well versed in her craft and everything it entails. I am sure you already suspect ulterior motives in my speaking to you, but do not worry darling, it is nothing sinister.

"I have worked with Avery and the Key family for decades now. When I was your age, I to showed a strong interest in history and the relics it leaves behind. Unfortunately for me, in those days the profession wasn't as inviting to women. Thus, my long career as an assistant to dimwitted men who liked to pretend they knew more than they really did began. Avery is my latest employer and an exception to this lack of intelligence I have so often had to put up with.

"Would you be interested in working with me, Holly? Now I'm not asking you to leave the museum. Far from it actually. I think it is important for you to keep working there; handling many artifacts and restoring them as you currently do. It is a valuable first hand experience that I would never dream to rob you of. But I travel all over the world to inspect and procure artifacts for Avery. If you are interested, I would like to take you on as an apprentice of sorts."

Holly's eyes widen and her pulse quickens a bit before the bit of her brain that controls rash decisions takes over. "I would like that very much, but I wouldn't be doing my due diligence if I didn't ask what such an offer entailed." she explains to Harriet.

"If you had accepted the offer blindly, I might have been forced to retract it," Harriet says with a small laugh. "Most of the time you'll continue to go about your day to day like you do now. This job will not demand long hours, but believe me, the pay for those hours you do give up will be more than worth it.

"When I locate a piece that Avery is interested in we will have to travel to the seller to see it first hand. My skills in confirming authenticity and appraising value are highly sought after. These are the skills I will be teaching you during these excursions. In turn, you will lend me your restoration knowledge. You'll be given as much time as you need to look over the piece and will provide an estimate on the level of investment required to restore the artifact to a condition worthy of display.

"I cannot give you an exact estimate on how often these trips will take place, but I can ensure that it will not interfere with your job at the museum. Avery has been granted a spot on the board and he will make sure your boss has no problem with the occasional leave of absence.

"On average these trips can last anywhere from 3 days to a week; depending on where we are going and the number of artifacts under consideration. My last trip was a 5 day visit to the Philippines to inspect a statue of an ancient folk hero called Bantong. Unfortunately it turned out to be a 17th century recreation of the statue we were actually seeking."

Holly smiles as she thinks it over. While this had excellent implications for her career, she wasn't sure how it would mesh with her life as a superhero. She wasn't exactly well-established yet, so having to go places for a few days at a time wouldn't be too serious, but what would happen if she left?

She realizes that she's probably waiting far too long to give Harriet an answer.

"I'll do it."

She'll figure out the rest later.