PRT Megathread #24

Welcome to the PHQ common room, where both Protectorate members and Wards may come in and interact among each other!

May is in her small office, taking time after the last weeks disaster to clear her mind, methodically sharpening a small collection of knives.
Since when had she collected knives? Those hadn't been seen before, and they weren't part of her costume.
Stopping in for a bit, Cindy knocked on May's office door before she kind of just peeked her head in
"Hey May, just wanted to drop by and give you the heads up. I'm going to be spending this weekend with family.. they got me tickets to universal and Disneyworld and oh my god I'm so excited!" She said with a bit of a squeak before she kind of went deadpan and stared
"...That's a lot of knives"
With a map of the city on her lap, and a notebook by her side, Antipode was jotting down a course. She looked like she hadn't slept in well over a month. The notebook had consecutive times and directions, and the line she was making looked like she was following someone. The starting point though was a familiar location to those keeping track, the Donahue residence.
Ya Girl Blur is quite familiar with the sight of exhausted and disheveled people frantically scribbling down information, but given that finals were a few weeks ago, this was a tad bit strange.
She would casually approach her colleague Alex and state "You look completely exhausted. You doing alright?"
Cid might notice a teenage girl by one of the windows, chewing through a pencil as she gives her math homework a thousand-yard-stare. She'd been stuck on the same problem for minutes now, and based on the angry mutters under her breath progress wasn't being made.
She'd gotten the cleanest version of her costume, made of the finest materials, the one reserved for meet and greets and TV. Every feather and joint were polished. An hour in front of the mirrormaking sure her face was perfect. Nothing was out of line. In her hands was a file folder filled with papers, each one filled out perfectly. No excuses.
Persephone was going into the dragon's den, aware she might not come back out. To say it was a hard choice would be a lie, she'd never had a choice, this was forced on her by circumstance and a mistake made two years ago in a different city.
No backing out.
She knocks on Fanta's office door.
The door swings open.
“Ah, Brenna.” She looks over the Ward, all done up. “Can I help you?” Gomez raises an eyebrow.
There would be the high pitched sounds of frustration as Permafrost fights the one and only thing she truly despises fighting. Homework.
Some of the subjects she was being taught simply didn't make sense to her, math and chemistry made sense, things like philosophy simply didn't.
She grabs another pencil, having snapped the previous three in frustration and once more attempts to get past these stupid questions.
Kelvin walks into the common room and sees permafrost and the snapped pencils.
"Struggling with homework? Is this a bad time?" Kelvin says, not wanting to bother Permafrost if she's doing something important.
Collective approached Cindy, a present held behind his back. He was a bit late for her birthday, but the seller on ebay had taken their sweet time sending it and the package had been delayed as well. But it was here now, and that's what mattered.
"Greetings, Cindy. We are here to observe the birthday tradition of presenting a gift. We are sorry that we are late, but the seller on the website Ebay was not prompt in their delivery of the requested item. We hope you can forgive this slight and accept our present to you."
Cindy was getting a couple things from her workshop packed for the weekend when Collective approached her and Kat
"You got me something Collective? Aww, thanks buddy you're so sweet!"
After an interesting discussion with a certain Psychologist, Phantasma feels the need to get more in touch with those she commands. A message goes out to the Wards & Protectorate, informing them that the Captain is instituting an open door policy. If one of the heroes, especially the Wards wants to talk, Fanta is more than willing to listen.
Kat and Octarine had arrived back to base about half an hour ago, He'd given her Painkillers and Anxiety Medicine.
After giving her time to calm down, and taking a moment to write up his report, he returned to the commons to talk to her about what had happened.
"Hey Kat, are you feeling any better?"
Octarine plops into the couch next to her, his colors seemed to mostly be dull shades of grey, and his voice sounded tired.
Kat had been rather quiet on their way back, the magic pills and the crystal doing their part to get rid of her turmoil. It's was just that while she was very calm, she was also fucking dead inside.
She hadn't even bothered to change out of what remained of her costume (as well as the PRT boots one of the cuffsluts had given her after the fight, because apparently there was a foot website). Just collapsed on a couch in the commons, a metal bowl next to her half-full of congealing blood and bits of spider that had gotten lodged in her throat.
"I don't know," she says honestly, her voice hoarse.