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Sammy manages to get linked up with Ryhs after school.

Sammy meets Rhys right after school, and takes him to one of the larger music rooms that is used for indoor lessons and rehearsals.  He is introduced to two girls, Heather and Janie, who seem to be pretty good friends with Sammy, and a bunch of others who all seem to be on good terms with her.  Everybody in here will be performing in the Spring Concert, which will happen in late March or early April, Sammy can't quite remember. 

Rhys shows up carrying a much-used-and-abused bass guitar case. He has his coat with him, since he anticipates going straight home after this. Bundled up with his coat is an obnoxiously multi-colored scarf, looking like nothing more than uncoordinated leftover scraps of yarn all done up together. Plus a wool hat. With a bobble, no less.

He greets everyone enthusiastically, shaking hands and being as charming as he can manage. As they start to talk shop about the upcoming concert, he asks if they need a bass player, or even guitar or fiddle. Piano? Penny whistle? He realizes he's beginning to sound desparate.

"Sorry all, but it's just so exciting to be thrown right back into making music so soon after getting here. It all feels somehow... unreal."

"You could talk to the music director, see if she has an idea where you'll fit," Sammy says.

There is a relatively short practice session that lasts about an hour.  Sammy encourages Rhys to hang around to listen; maybe he'll get some ideas of his own about where he'd best fit.  Afterwards, she helps him find his way out of the building "It's a huge complex."

As they're walking out, she points down the block to the popular after-school hangout, the Tasty Dog.  "If you feel like playing, there's a good chance of an audience in there about now."

Rhys' cheeks turn a little red, and it's not from the cold. "Well, I don't really sing all that well. No, that's a lie. I sing like cachiad. And I only brought my bass, not my guitar." An abrupt change in topic signals that this is, for some reason, not a road he wants to go down right now. "You sounded really good back there. You're really talented."

"Thanks."  This is said without any conceit, but acceptance as truth.  "Practice, practice, practice.  I sing some too.  Music is one of my gifts, I guess."

She walks along a bit, and hesitantly asks "Do you have any questions about what happened at lunch today?"

"Oh, God, yes. I understood very little of it. I get that Sylvia can influence emotions and that she was for some reason - I can guess - very happy indeed. When John forced her out of her reverie, Alicia snapped and went after her. Donnie and Sylvia are an item? And Donnie took Alicia's attack personally. But that's all. Are all of you guys superpowered, too? That is so cool; I didn't think I'd find any more. What was that about dragons? Oh, sorry, I'm not letting you get a word in edgewise."

"That's basically... Wait.  Any more?  You too?"  Sammy shakes her head and grins.  "Someone's on to John, I think.  They keep giving him escort duties for the new paranormals.  Almost all of us at the table are super-powered.  I'm part djinn.  Donnie is some kind of Dragon lord, and he and Sylvia are definitely an item.  Think police tape all around her, around anything that he marks as his, and you'll get the idea."  She looks at him, and asks "You don't happen to fly, do you?"  She expects the answer to be 'no'.

"I've been practicing a form that allows me to fly, yeah. I think I've just about got it perfect. That's what I do - I'm a shape-shifter. I can turn into anything I want. Why do you ask? You fly, too?"

She lights up like a Christmas tree.  "Another flyer!  Yes, I fly!"  She looks around and not seeing anybody in the immediate area, tags him with her mittened hand.  "Tag!  You're it!"  She runs as fast as she can toward an area with some shelter from the view of the street.  Once she's there, she's up and in the air, laughing at him, darting around like a swallow, daring him to follow.

Rhys looks up at her, smiling. He carefully puts down his bass and removes his coat, scarf and hat, placing them on top of it. Then, he changes. He grows to the size of a very large, fully-grown man - about seven feet tall - and sprouts huge, white-feathered wings from his lean, muscular frame. His long hair changes to blond, and his face is rugged and handsome. He wears a scabbarded sword attached to a belt around his waist, a white loincloth, and nothing else. With one flap of his mighty wings, he is airborne.

"So, what do you think?" he asks. His voice has changed, too. It is deep and resonant, and the lilting Welsh accent has been replaced by the clipped, refined tones of British royalty. "I call this my 'angel-form.'"

She circles slowly around him, taking a good long look.  "Impressive," she says.  "Not bad at all."  She picks up his belongings, loaded on an invisible luggage cart.  "You're probably the first person I ever met who really can be anything they want to be."

"It's certainly a unique experience. There are limitations, of course. I can't do mental stuff like Sylvia, and I can't change into really weird things like computer programs or the color blue; but otherwise, the sky's the limit. Literally." He lunges forward and touches her shoulder in passing. "Now you're it!" he cries, laughing as he speeds away.

{And since both characters have 4 ranks in flight it's an even match!}

OOC: I should really update those character sheets for Sammy and Sylvia.....

{So, Sammy's got more than 4 ranks in flight? That's okay - he'll just shift some points around until it's an even match again.  ;D }

Sammy chases after him and is chased and has a hella good time just being an adolescent creature of the air.  She purposefully does things and goes places that might prove a trial for her companion's size and wingspan, just to see what he can do.  The whole while she doesn't drop a single piece of his belongings, although at times it looks like she has a little train trailing behind her.  She finally comes down when its just too darned cold to continue.

Laughingly she says "If you can play like you fly, I'm going to have to step things up.  I have serious competition now."  She blows warm air onto her hands.  "In fact, if that's true, I really ought to introduce you to my boyfriend El.  He's always scoping out new musical talent.  He might be able to get you hooked up with a band."

And when she does things like that, she discovers that he changes into an eagle, or an RC plane, or whatever is most appropriate for the situation she throws his way. "It's not that easy to get rid of me!"


When he shifts back to his "normal" shape, he's wearing different clothes - black jeans and an oversized hunter green sweater. He retrieves his coat and slips back into it. "That would be great, thanks. Is he a musician, too? I'd so love to be in a band again."

That just makes her try harder.  They get a good work out by the time she's too cold to go on.



"Yeah, he is; he's lots of things.  A man of many talents."  She checks the time.  "I could call him now, see if he's busy; if you want, I could introduce you guys?"

"Yeah, that would be great! Thanks!"

So Sammy calls El to see if he's got some time for the new musician at school.

"Musician?  I'll meet you somewhere."

A place (warm and cozy) perhaps some hot cocoa is agreed upon and Elrod arrives.

"Hey."  he extends the hand of friendship, "Elrod Janush.  You must be the musician?"  He kisses Ammy on the head.

Sammy mutters, "This is getting ridiculous."  She grabs him before he can get away and plants a quick one on his lips, then lets him go like nothing happened.

to say that Elrod welcomes the kiss would be an understatement.  He returns it with the amount of enthusiasm Sammy can expect in a public venue.  With a fresh smile on his face her sits down and orders something warm.  "So."  He requires a moment to focus, then looks back towards Rhys.  "Musician huh?"

Rhys shakes his hand. "Rhys Gruffudd. Yeah, I play a lot of things, but bass is my specialty. What about you?"

"I have been known to play an instrument from time to time.  Assorted strings, piano.  I pretend to sing, and I pretend badly."

"Haha, tell me about it. My singing has been known to attract ducks. Dead ones. I hear Sammy here is a good singer, though. I already know she blows a mean horn, though. I heard her playing at practice after school."

Sammy is snuggled up tight against Elrod (not that she needs an excuse, but its cold outside!), drinking hot chocolate.  She weakly protests, "Pfft.  We're not here to talk about me, eh..." and tries to get her nose warm by hiding it in the sleeve of El's sweater.

"We should maybe spend some time in a garage this weekend.  I need a new bass player, and maybe a drummer."  Sammy knows those were the spots Jeff and Addy filled in Elrod's summer band.  "Hey T-bone, think your folks would be ok with us using your garage Saturday?  If the noise would bother them I can arrange for tickets to something, give them a night on the town."

"That would be so awesome. I can't thank you enough!" It's when he gets this excited that he really looks younger than he is, and he sits there like an 8-year-old on Christmas morning.

He really got rid of them.  Wow.

"I think they might each leave the other one for you if you keep spoiling them with tickets," she gently chides.  "But I also think they'll enjoy dinner and a show a whole lot more than rehearsal noise in the garage.  You gonna get my sister out of the way house too?  She's been jonesing to see some dance company performance."  She takes a sip of her chocolate.  "Maybe after 3 or 4 o'clock?  I might be helping John Eliot re-learn how to fly."

Elrod smiles, "Send me the name of the company, I'll see if maybe I can rustle up some tickets.  And I might have just the thing for your folks."  he starts to fire off a text message.

"Wow," replies Rhys, leaning in a little toward Sammy so as not to disturb Elrod. "This guy's a little like Father Christmas. You're lucky - he's talented, hot and resourceful."

"Yeah, but you have to pity the poor guy.  He could have pretty much anybody he wants, and here he is, stuck with me.  I don't know how he does it.  I'd have cut and run a long time ago."

She might be joking.  She looks perfectly serious though.

She receives a kick under the table, but Elrod is looking innocent as he texts, except for the smile.  "Ok, let's see if that pans out.  So we gonna do Saturday then, start around five or so?"

{What day of the week is it now?}

"5 is good."  She gives him the name of the dance company.  "Oh, and I remembered that Colin's birthday is February 12th, but that's closer to Valentine's Day than you wanted, isn't it."  Sammy looks at Rhys.  "Your birthday isn't in January, is it?  El wants to have a party, and he's looking for an unofficial excuse.  If not, I'll ask the others later.  If I can find them after the angst fest that happened at lunch today."  She shakes her head and surreptitiously rubs at one of the cuts on her hand, still covered by El's shirt.


OOC:  Tuesday

"Sorry, no. Mine's in February also. The 15th. But I didn't think you needed a reason to have a party." He grins mischievously. "After all, it's somebody's birthday."

Sammy looks surprised.  "Really?  No kidding?"  She sits back even more snugly against Elrod.  "Well, there could always be a party to celebrate this month's Science Fair."  Her face is suddenly animated with a 'eureka' expression.  "Science Fai... omigawd.  I am a total frackin idiot.  SCIENCE FAIR.  Doh!"  She sits straight up and smacks herself upside her own head.  "The triangular marks on the metal at the destroyed construction sites... oh wait, neither of you... DOH!"  She whips out her phone and sends out an all hands message.

I forgot all about the science fair.  Maybe the destruction was from somebody testing out their project, or borrowing somebody else's.  Talk to Mr. Heep!

She puts her phone away and sits back in the snug spot against Elrod.  "There.  Saved the world twice today.  That means I can coast the rest of the week, right?"

Elrod nods, "Coasting is approved.  And I actually prefer to have a real excuse for a party.  One of the flaws of being...well, people tend to throw money away.  I like to at least have a reason I can somewhat justify it with."

"Yeah, I can understand that, I guess." He sounds a little disappointed. "But you don't have to spend a lot of money to have a good time, and I think having a good time is a justification for spending money." He stops and looks taken aback for a moment. "Well, cnych. Listen at me, malu cachu. Makes me sound like all I do is party. Really, I'm not like that. Not to say I don't enjoy having a good time... Oh, hell. I'm going to shut up now."

"Aw, so sad," Sammy says.  "We'll find a birthday or something, don't worry.  So what kind of music do you like to play?"  She starts talking about the kinds of music Elrod has done before.

Another all hands text message goes out.
Anybody have a January birthday?

"I was brought up on Welsh folk music, but I've learned a lot of different styles since then. The stuff I like to play though? Punk, alternative, you know, stuff like that. Where I can let loose and have fun and do my own thing. Not as freeform as improvisational jazz, but pretty wild. Something with some energy to it, mostly."

"Maybe if you give me a playlist I can learn some of them by Saturday," Sammy offers, then looks at El.  "We could give it a try,right?  And you could give him some songs to learn for then, so we can switch off.  Maybe we can even turn up a drummer by then.  I keep thinking I ought to hand some sticks to Sarah.  For some reason she seems like a natural."

"Alternative stuff I have plenty of, but send the playlist of stuff you know.  We can get something together for sure.  And we're going to have an effing party if it kills me."  He looks over at Rhys, "There was some mayhem and I had to cancel the Christmas Party.  Luckily the food didn't go to waste, the principal let me sort of throw it at the cast of the Winter Concert.  But I missed my winter party."

Sammy grabs his hand and squeezes it tight.  "You'll have your party."

Elrod smiles, "I'm shallow.  I'm a slacker.  I need a certain amount of party to get through a school year."  He shrugs.  "I'm weak."

She bumps him.  "Wussie.  You're whining like you were hospitalized or something.  Oh, wait, you were."

Rhys texts his e-mail address to Elrod's phone, and requests the same, so that they can exchange playlists. He looks concerned over the hospitalization comment, but doesn't inquire, keeping his nose out of business that clearly isn't his. Then he texts Sammy's phone:

he knows ur a super? safe to talk in front of him?

Sammy looks up from her phone and nods.Yes and Yes.

Rhys leans back in his chair. "So can I assume that between school and saving the world there isn't a lot of time left over for parties? How do you guys unwind from the pressure?"

Elrod hears Sammy's phone chime.  Then her nod to Rhys and her text out a reply that makes Rhys' phone react.  "You know, if Sammy wasn't the girl she is, I might think something odd just happened there."  He shoulders her and smiles.  "Unwind?  what is this, unwind you speak of?"  Elrod's grin only gets broader.  Rhys notices that a smile almost seems out of place on the older boy's features.  But when one is there it makes him look far less menacing.  Elrod has a beat up leather jacket, motorcycle boots, and a face that says Piss Off.  So far though, he seems to act anything but.

"I just needed to make sure it was safe to talk about being super in front of you. Do you have any powers?"


Many qualities in common with Rhys himself. He thinks they'll get along just fine.

"Hey, I can appreciate a need to keep that inside a tight loop.  As for me having super powers, no.  I'm just a good samaritan like Dave, Greg and Rob."  He takes Sammy's hand, "I got to play hero once."  He smiles, "But that was just a fast car and good timing."

"You're more of a hero than you admit," she says.  "Or maybe even know."

Rhys can sense an intimate moment approaching, but can't prevent himself from speaking up, either. "It doesn't take powers to be a hero. Problem is, sometimes people get powers who aren't even within shouting distance of being heroes. And something tells me there's a few of those around about here; am I right?"

Sammy leans forward.  A flesh toned bandaid barely peeks out from behind the neckline of her shirt.  "Definitely.  The [finger quote]good guys at school, the ones I know about anyhow, mostly sit at our lunch table.  But there are others out there who seem bent on disrupting things.  Some have, or have had, powers; others channel magic, and others, well, they're just smart and showing off.  I think, but I can't outright prove, that a couple of teachers might have powers too, or are quietly supporting those of us who do.  We've had all kinds of incidents this year, more than you'd expect.  Some have been really scary, could have been deadly.  We've been dealing with it, sort of, but more by reacting to things instead of preventing them; we couldn't prevent everything anyhow.  Someone, I don't remember who now, said that maybe we need to make our presence a little more obvious, make us a little more felt around the school, as a deterrent."

"And the gang has done more good than just stopping bad guys.  You've given Dave something to give a shit about.  And got me thinking about the world, and myself even.  And in a very left handed way given my sister a reason to think about her own life."

"I'd rather that had all happened in less painful ways," Sammy replies.  She busies herself with stirring her chocolate, even though it has long since cooled to a drinkable temperature.

"Wow, I get the feeling coming to America meant stepping into a far larger world in more ways than one, yeah? So you guys could use some help? Does that mean I get to join the club?" Once more Rhys looks like nothing much more than a kid on Christmas morning.

"Rhys, you joined the club at lunch when all hell threatened to break out."  She shakes her head.  "I still don't know how I managed to fly faster than John could move.  I guess fear is a wonderful motivator."

"No worrying."  Elrod says.  "Not gonna worry."  He gives her another kiss.  "Not worrying.  this is me not worrying."

Rhys smiles, but it looks a little awkward as he starts to get that third-wheel feeling that singles always get in the presence of couples when they start in on their little in-relationship quirks. He sips his chocolate and tries to look anywhere but at Elrod and Sammy. He once more tries, in spite of his own better judgement, to de-rail the intimacy train by changing the subject.

"So do you think it's a good idea or not to have more of a presence around the school? I think it might have a deterrent effect, but at the same time might also provoke some new problems that aren't already there. I think everything - the good and the bad - will get elevated."

Sammy takes the hint.  "El's just very happy that I came back home and I'm okay," she says with a smile, and pats El's arm.  "But as to your question, the presence thing is up to you.  I'm hoping it at least causes the bad guys a moment's pause, and maybe dissuades the less adept from messing around on my turf.  And the victims don't have to know anything about anybody else, so long as they know there's at least one person out there who's going to try to help them."

"Listen, I need to head into the city.  Having dinner with dad and some college recruiter guy.  I'll see you Saturday if not before Rhys."  He shakes hands again.  "And I'll let you know about tickets."  And he kisses Sammy.  "Take it easy you two."  And he makes his way out.

Sammy fondly watches Elrod go, then turns to Rhys.  "Anything you want to do?"

When Sammy turns back to Rhys, she sees him eyeing Elrod, too. "I assume you mean other than a hot, steamy three-way?" He breaks into a wide grin. "Kidding. I haven't been in town all that long. Still haven't even finished unpacking yet, come to that. Show me around?"

Sammy blushes furiously -- the ohmigawd she's still a Virgin Light is lit --, and seems a tad irritated too.  Good thing it was just a joke.

She stands up quickly.  "Show you around.  Sure."

She takes him on a scenic tour of Oak Park and River Forest, showing him the downtown areas as well as various touristy points of interest.  She speaks, but is a whole lot quieter than she was before.

Rhys notices this, and stops in the walking tour to face Sammy. "I'm sorry; did I say something that bothered you?" He doesn't sound snotty or offended; but rather genuinely concerned. "I realize that the culture here is different from what I'm used to, but I haven't been exposed to much of it yet and don't know what's taboo and what isn't. I fear my mouth is going to get me into all sorts of trouble while I work that out. I don't want to offend anybody; but I still want to be myself. If I say or do anything that bothers you - or anybody in your circle of friends - please understand that it isn't deliberate. And please tell me. I'll never understand the culture here any better if I'm never corrected."

She looks down at the sidewalk and keeps walking. "The three way comment got to me.  It -- not too long ago, just when school reopened, we had a problem with a couple of visitors.  There was another Sylvia and another Sammy who came from a different dimension.  The other Sammy--"  Its obvious she doesn't really want to talk about this, but she pushes on.  "El and I had been going through a rough patch; I had met another boy, and he and I really hit it off, and -- well, you have enough.  Two boys who like me, both know about the other, me not knowing what I was going to do about any of it, and along comes alterna-Me.  She goes to one, tells him something he wants to hear, they have sex.  Then, a few hours later, she's having sex with the other one.  So we figure out what's going on when alterna-me and alterna-Sylvia get into a cat fight in the cafeteria.  We send them home -- I hope they went home -- and I blew up at the two boys because neither of them figured out it wasn't ME, despite the way the girl... she only looked like me, ok?  And even then, there were clues.  So now, I kind of decided what I wanted to do, and worked out a kind of forgiveness for all of us, and am trying really hard to forget all of it.  What you said brought it all forward again."  She ventures to look up at him.  "Can we just let it go now so I can work on burying it again?"

"Whoa. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry." It's Rhys' turn to stare at the sidewalk. "But that's partly what I mean. I make some off-hand comment, touching on nervy history, don't mean anything by it, and - blam! - instant regret." He stares off into the late afternoon sky. "It's like I just don't know what to say to anyone. I certainly don't want to say the wrong thing to Alicia..."

"It's not your fault.   You want the ticking bombs list... Alicia... has issues.  No, she has more than issues, she has entire subscriptions, libraries.  However, I can't tell you anything except don't play any kind of mental games with her.  Say what you mean, mean what you say.  As far as learning the rhythms here -- I dunno, if you're not sure what to say, quiet listening works.  That one mouth, two ears thing."  Then something occurs to her.  "Um, I don't know if you'd do this or not, but... there's a lot of sensitivity to "alternate" versions of us lately, with all the interdimensional visitors.  You... might want to be really careful about copying any of our forms.  It could be misunderstood unless you're being really obvious about doing it."

"No, I wouldn't copy any of you unless you wanted me to for some reason. Not to deceive any of you guys." He thinks for a moment. "Listening, huh? I've always been kinda vocal. My dad tells me I don't know when to shut up. Guess I've got to learn some new skills, yeah?" He looks at her and smiles. "Before I step in the cachiad again." He takes a deep breath. "Ah, well. Paid â chodi pais wedi pisio."

Sammy looks at him curiously, Welsh not being a language she speaks.  "What's that you said?"

"Ah, sorry. Old habit. I learned to swear in Welsh instead of English a long time ago. 'Cachiad' means 'shit' and 'paid â chodi pais wedi pisio' means 'don't lift your petticoats after you've pissed.' It's the Welsh way of saying 'don't cry over spilled milk.' We've got a rather... 'colorful' language."

Sammy gets the joke, and laughs.  "Heh.  Could come in handy.  If you can't say something nice, say it in Welsh."

"Yeah, that's the idea." He laughs along with her.

{We about done here, you think?}

ok; will give us a chance to move on to the next day