Shiny!

Intro: "Stumbling Into Something Horrible" Part One

[theshinyones]

> Hire yourself to find more shinies before they get into trouble.

Don’t be ridiculous. For one thing, that’s not your department. Other people deal with shinies and mumbo jumbo, and besides, doing things out of the goodness of your heart doesn’t put food on your table, nor does it pay your rent. Your business might be heavenly, but your concerns are largely temporal. 

For another thing, hiring yourself is bad practice and worse business. 

Still, there’s plenty to be said for making sure shiny folk don’t mess with your predictions. 

Now, let’s see here. There were about five other shinies you knew of in town. Most of them were pretty OK, and as usual, capitalism is the main concern of everyone who hasn’t made massive amounts of filthy lucre. 

This is going to get dangerous. You should probably arm up, if only a little.

[theshinyones]

"So what's in it for me, toots?"

"I told you, he's trying to take the assets.  He's worried, and rightly so, that the jewels and keys to safe deposit boxes I kept on my person at all times might 'vanish' in the coroner's office.  He has at least kept them from diving for the body.  I would rather they wind up in the hands of someone like you, than let him have them."

"Where I would have to keep them in trust. I do hope you've found a way to modify your will." Well, even if she doesn't, you suppose a little skulduggery in that regard might be necessary. Even if it's technically illegal. 

"That's easy enough on my part, if you can deliver the goods." 

"Odd way to talk about your last earthly possession." 

"... I do hope that wasn't a pun, Mister Bjornsson." 

"Furthest thing from my mind." Might as well take the case, not like you've anything better to do and it was about time someone corralled the gods again. 

And it's always you. 

>_ 

[theshinyones]

>"What do you want me to do about it, lady? Justice? Vengeance?"

"Get to the point," You say. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want him to face a jury for his crimes."

"..." Siiiigh. "By law I am required to refer investigations for crimes and cold cases to the police."

"Does the law even cover gods, Bjorn? What about shades like me?"

And there's the uncomfortable truth. When it comes to the laws of man, you're pretty much up a creek, but... "Listen. When it comes to the laws of gods, something like this is a slap on the wrist. I can't help you that way, either."

"There has to be something," She says, a note of desperation in her voice.

"I'll refer your case to the DA. If you know where your body is, chances are that he can take it from there." Not that anything human can hold a god, you're aware, but there are certain rules that involve not interfering with human law. If your god steps out of line while he's doing time you can pretty much do what you want to him.

"It's still in the bottom of the river. He's trying to get me declared legally dead and take the assets."

"Ah, and now we get to what's in it for me."

>_

[theshinyones]

> Hear the lady's story.

She called herself 'Lauren', but 'Pine' seemed more appropriate. The lady looks dead, very dead. You've seen dead bodies before- you're not exactly a STRANGER to MURDER MOST FOUL- and off-hand it looks like she was DROWNED or POISONED. The eerie WHITE FOG that rolled in behind her wasn't much of a help, either. She walks up to your desk and sits on it. "I hear you deal with GOD PROBLEMS."

"Maybe. I also take APPOINTMENTS."

"I can't exactly reach a PHONE from the CEMETERY... Bjorn, yeah?" She pauses. "You got a spare CIGAR?"

"These things are TERRIBLE for you," you mention, before handing her a cigar and a LIGHT.

She chuckles. "That's not exactly a PROBLEM for me anymore, Bjorn."

"So what IS your PROBLEM? And why do you think it should be best resolved by someone who isn't the POLICE?"

She tries to inhale and puff out smoke, but instead it settles into more of that EERIE WHITE FOG that's creeping EVERYWHERE in your office. "It's that man you just met. What did he call himself? JOHN, the GOD OF RAILROADS? Hmph. Minute I turned thirty five, he drugs me and throws me into the river." Another puff of DEEP FOG.

"And, again, that's something to tell the COPS."

"I'm DEAD, the cops aren't going to TAKE MY WORD FOR IT." Hm. What do you say to that?

[theshinyones]

>Grimly review notes for the godly sob story

You look over the story he's told. It seems like a pretty typical case, actually. You see it all the time. 

There's an old saying, you're not sure who says it, that when two mortals fall in love, it's a thing of beauty. When an immortal and a mortal fall in love, it's a tragedy.

See, in this case, the mortal is dead. Some three or four years, actually. He's still in mourning for her.

Then, last night, he saw her face again.

Now, normally, you'd dismiss this as mere delusion, or chalk it up to someone else trying to drive the god mad. But a quick glance at the stars tells you it's neither of those. There's no major big freaking magic blow up like has been happening a lot in the last six months. You've been having to put out fires along with your partner, who isn't here right now.

Huh. This case might be interesting after all.

And then she shows up.

Who's this crazy lady?

[theshinyones]

>Be Peter's Roommate. Consult the stars for clues about the next shiny.

You are now BJORN BJORNSSON, one of the top Private Investigators in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hard boiled tonight.

On your desk is not one, but two steak dinners, because you are expecting company.

Oh, he's a god, to be sure, but so is almost everyone in your line of work. When the people need help, they pray to the gods, but when the gods need help, who do they pray to? Usually, it's you, in your office.

It's a long story that comes out of the god's mouth, this time, one that would make a man who felt less hard-boiled cry at the very thought. But not you. You've been walking the dirty streets of Gary, Indiana- and a hundred cities like it- since before this god showed up. The faces change, the names change, the technology changes, but the nature of people and gods just plain doesn't.

What will you do?

[theshinyones]

>Awkward, self-aware, meta-humor.

You blink. "Molly?"

"Yeeeeee~s?"

"Did you just make a handgun out of shinypower?"

"Nooooo~" She says, then leans in, whispering, "Buuut I bet it's got a load for you."

[Charm + Presence -> 1 success]

Holy crap her voice just got like three registers lower! "... That was horrible."

"Okay, ground rules. This is not a one-time thing, Molly. You're going to need to be partially exclusive with us."

"And she'll probably need to come along on dates," you add.

"Hm. Yeah, that's fair. Molly?"

"You say that like pegging you two won't become my regular Saturday Night Thing." You can tell she's grinning.

"... Why do I get this feeling I'm about to be double-teamed?"

They both give you a knowing look. Nancy takes off her shirt. 

You snicker. "You drew a kitty?"

"Yep!" He starts kissing at your neck in a blatant attempt at increasing sexual tension.

[Charm + Presence -> 1 success]

Normally this wouldn't work so well- your pansexual nature and high stability makes such things not so great- but Nancy is getting in on the act at the same time, and she both knows where you're sensitive and knows just how to strike it. Curse the woman's knowledge of your every nerve!

[Charm + Brawling -> 5 successes!?] [Nancy's Sunpower -> 10/12]

... You gasp for air after a very long, very pleasant moment. "... Somewhere. Not living room floor."

Perhaps we'd better be someone else for the next few torrid minutes?

[theshinyones]

>Molly: Write on someone's underwear.

"Well, as long as we're writing on underwear..." Molly gets an evil grin on her face and pulls a sharpie out of the cleavagetory that she really shouldn't have.

"Wait, hold on-" You make an attempt to shield your pants.

Molly reaches for Nancy's shirt!

Nancy objects to this treatment as Molly starts scribbling on Nancy's bra. "Hey! This is a custom job, get your writey hands off it-"

They're both struggling now. You can't stop laughing- THUMK.

You're not quite sure how you all ended up on the floor after that, but now you're stuck in between the two of them. You have gained the status effect uncomfortably aware of everyone's state. It is an Emotion status effect, and makes Sexual Tension-type attacks more difficult to resist. It will be removed at the end of this scene, no matter how the scene resolves.

There is an awkward silence...?

[theshinyones]

==>

"Okay. So what exactly makes this a good deal, again?" You ask. "Currently, it sounds like a pain in the ass if you happen to like a private life."

"Oooh, that's the best part!" Molly says, nodding- well, more like nuzzling, really. "See, when I got shiny I got a lot more competent. Just on the basic level, no shinypower required." 

[Attributes increased!] [Skills increased!]

"Still doesn't seem like a great thing," you reply, looking at Nancy, who seems surprisingly cool with this.

"Well, you're also a lot harder to kill now," Nancy says.

"Take it from her, she learned first hand," Molly adds. "Apparently her skin turns knives now. And we've both tested this next bit- you can spend a moment, concentrate, and stop bleeding."

"Hm, useful in an emergency, but are there any side perks?" you ask.

"And I'm pretty sure my asthma has vanished. And I've not had an infection since I got shiny."

"Could be coincidental, so that doesn't seem like a side perk," you respond, though you immediately understand it's true. "Any other perks?"

"I don't know," Nancy says.

"Are there?" Molly continues.

Um?

[theshinyones]

>You were explaining Shiny Mumbo Jumbo. And why Molly's in a cocktail dress.

"More mumbo jumbo," Molly replies.

"Yeah, that's right."

You sit down- this is some heavy shit- and hold up a hand to stop Nancy. "Okay. Hold on a second. I think I have it. All shinies have a limited amount of power. And they use that power to do things. Like, say, shape shift into my cat."

"Wh- Ho-"

"Not hard. You forgot to come in through the door. Also, that getup is ridiculous."

"These ears are designer!" Molly protests, taking off the headband to show you, by draping herself over your shoulder and the back of the couch. "Besides, cocktail dresses are easy to slink into. Or out of."

"Focus, please," Nancy puts in, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"So. Aside from instantly recalling any fact I've ever learned, what else can I do with this hypothetical Sun Power? I suppose there are more specialized tricks, like what you did with the sniper rifle. Was that really necessary, by the way? I think a pair of handguns would have been fine."

"You'd probably have rebuffed it." Wait. Oh crap. She's sitting in your lap. You have the distinct, uncomfortable feeling that you have stumbled into something horrible. "By the way. Magic is real. Just thought you might like to know."

"Hmph. Any magic that is repeatable is clearly science." You cross your arms- with a little finagling so you don't get either of these two harridans in them. "You just haven't figured out the trick. So, let's see... By extension, the more you work at expanding the reservoir, the more power you have at your command." 

"Yeah, as far as that goes," Molly agrees.

"Still, you'll need to be careful," Nancy adds. "Your power always comes back at the same rate."

"Ah, less a percentage, more a constant? Got it." You pause. Their faces are both close to yours, in a manner that means you cannot avoid eye contact politely.  "Nancy, I know you wouldn't put your friend and mine on constant guard duty for me. What's the deal?"

"I wasn't watching you," Molly explains. "Well. Not you specifically. I was keeping an eye on your flat mate."

"What flatmate?"

Nancy and Molly exchange a significant look. "The one who goes halfsies?" Nancy hazards.

"You mean the one I've never seen who apparently writes notes on his underwear?"

Everyone breaks out laughing.

[theshinyones]

>The FUCK is a Shiny? Use words I can take seriously, Nancy!

You are now Peter.

"What the FUCK is a Shiny? Use words I can take seriously, Nancy!"

"Peter, I don't have a better word. I'm only six months into this." She's really waving around that sniper rifle casually. It seems solid enough. "But that's generally how you identify them. They glow."

"Then why not call them, I don't know, glow people! Or something less ridiculous than a Shiny!?"

"Peter, there are quantum subparticles called blueberry flavor, mumbo jumbo doesn't have a lock on stupid names." She sighs. "Anyway, most shinies have some way to be supernaturally good at things. Me, it was mostly hurting things and breaking things, so..." Again with the lack of gun safety!

"The fuck are you doing? The fuck is this!?" A third voice!? Wait, you recognize that voice, it's...

"... Molly?" You turn and see Molly, a friend all the way from grade school, dressed in... A cocktail dress? And... "Molly, take off the cat ears-"

"In a minute- Nancy, what the fuck are you doing!? You're going to hurt someone with that!"

"It's not loaded."

"Oh, like you'd carry any weapon that wasn't loaded."

"No, seriously, I just made it out of thin air and Sun Power. Give me some credit."

"... Wait," you say. "Baaaack the fuck up. You've said sun power a couple times like it deserves capital letters."

"In my case- and your case, Peter- it does. Shut up for a second, I'm gonna give you what I know." Deeep breath. "Okay. So like I said, all shinies can do things better. And to do this, we have a reserve of... Energy." She said that like she was avoiding the term magic. "For lack of a better term, I've been using the phrase power, with the Shiny's type in front. So, because you and me are sun shinies- bitch about the name later- We run off of Sun Power."

"Back up again. How do you know I'm a Sun... Glow... Thing?" You adamantly refuse to call yourself something so ridiculous as a Shiny!

Nancy walks up to you, rifle in one hand, and touches your forehead with her free thumb. "Peter. Could you tell me the exact dispersion at which grain dust becomes useless as an explosive?"

"Huh? I'd have to think-" The answer comes to you immediately. "It's around-"

You see a golden half-disc, half-ring on the wall, and Nancy interrupts. "That's how. When you use Power, too much of it at once, the marks of your Power become obvious. First they show up, then they glow, then you glow, it rises to a fire... And I'm not sure what yours does when it gets too powerful, but mine can do a number on people, which is why I try not to use it too much."

"That mark doesn't tell me anything, though."

"That's because you've stayed the hell away from taking anything whiffing of mumbo jumbo except me. Unfortunately-"

Molly clears her throat.

Nancy looks down. "Oh. Right. Give me a second." The sniper rifle vanishes in a burst of light.

"Now, where was I...?"

[theshinyones]

==> Proceed to Peter's house.

Well, since we've already had that phone conversation you certainly don't need to hear it again! So you get in your beat-up sedan and go for a little drive. The ST doesn't bother rolling your drive because you actually have it and aren't a mortal anyway, so it's just a nice drive to Peter's house. 

Nancy knocks on the door. 

Peter answers it.

Nancy already knows just where to look. "Hm. Sunset, huh? what happe-" Sniff. Sniff sniff. "Is that burning hair?"

Nancy looks at Peter more carefully and sees that his ponytail is burned.

"You were actually in a fire!?"

"Nancy if you- Er. Well... There was a robbery at the store and I improvised a flour bomb so... yes?"

"... And it's the fact that you went shiny- Inside, inside, I'll explain everything in a second, but I don't want to start waving around Sun Power in broad daylight."

"Is this that solar Mumbo Jumbo you've been getting into lately?"

"Hey, that mumbo jumbo is my job," Nancy replies as she starts drawing the blackout curtains. "So what have you figured out about what you are so far?"

"Seriously, is this some kind of prank? I was on fire earlier but it was blue and purple and didn't burn anything and what's with the tattoo and shit? This is ridiculous!"

"Prepare for even more ridiculous." You take off the jacket. "I don't know how else to show this off, so I'm going to ask you to put your gun down for a second."

Peter puts his gun down, frowning and crossing his arms. "Seriously, Nancy, what the fuck is going on, what do you mean showing off?"

"Notice I'm not strapped. No place to put a holdout." Nancy wiggles her fingers... And slowly, something resolves out of the ambient light, swirling and coalescing into a sniper rifle that shines like sunlight. "You're like me. Shiny. In fact, you're my kind of shiny- a sun shiny."

Peter's jaw hits the floor. "WHAT."

No, really, what? ==>

[theshinyones]

>Do anything other than answer the phone when Peter calls. You don't want to avoid a paradox, do you?

Nancy is pretty sure Peter is going to call at some point, but she's got some time; and at the very least she can get dressed. Of course later she has a shift at the bar where she and Peter work, but for now it'd be nice to just not be in a state of deshabille. And besides, what's this noise about a paradox?

You're going to try for not looking intimidating.

[Attractiveness + PRE-SEN-TATION -> 0 successes]

... Damn it. Whenever you add that leather jacket you end up looking like a very, very scary woman. But you like it! It's nice! And it goes with the spiky, short hair, the jeans, and the motorcycle-riding boyfriend so well!

Ah, well. Maybe it won't scare Peter as much, he grew up in biker culture.

Welp.

[theshinyones]

>Be Nancy. Flashback a short span of time.

You are now Nancy. Seven months ago, you were a part-time bouncer and part time occult consultant. It didn't really feel good, taking people's money for talking mumbo jumbo, but six months ago, you got into an alley scrape and got shiny, and learned there was a whole lot more truth to what you were talking about. Of course, the bitch was separating truth from fiction. You know that you are a SUN SHINY of the Sunrise class, and that you can cause your presence to be far too great to behold.

You also know that someone is calling you way too fucking early in the morning.

Because your phone is ringing. And it is before noon. As a bouncer this is a personal affront, as you work late hours. 

You pick up the phone, grouchily. "Something had better be ON. FIRE."

"Try your boyfriend." "WHAT. Molly, what are you doing!?" You look at the caller ID. "You're calling from Peter's house!? Is this some kind of joke!?"

"No! Peter just got shiny, no lie-"

"You must be joking," You interrupt.

"I almost lost my balls last night, don't you dare question my dedication!"

"Okay, okay, sure, fine, he got shiny, what's he doing right now?"

"He's trying to wash the sun mark off his face- wait, no, he's unpacking groceries."

"... Well you're there, right-"

"I don't know how to deal with-"

"What do you mean you don't know how to deal-"

"Well I'm not the sunny one, now am- Shit, I think he's heard me."

You hang up immediately. Molly may be your Moon Buddy but you're pretty sure she wouldn't joke about something like this, especially in a panic; and most especially not from Peter's house where she's undercover as one of his cats. 

Which means you probably need to explain to Peter what's going on, before he flips the fuck out, because you know he occasionally over-reacts.

Only occasionally?

[theshinyones]

>Consult Nancy, local weird shit expert.

Right after you look around the house and make sure the robber's gone...

It seems he or was that a she? is long gone. In fact, you're not even sure how they left. You're just sure they took nothing, drank nothing, ate nothing. Maybe you scared them off?

Heading back to the den you pick up the phone and dial a familiar number.

"Hey, Nancy? It's Peter. How busy are you?"

"Huh? Oh, hey Peter. Yeah, no worries, I'm already headed over there. Sit tight and don't flip out."

"You-?! What?!" It is far, far too late for that caution. With a stream of swearing that would make a sailor tear up and ask for her mother, you proceed to put the weasel king to shame.

"Peter, I'm coming over. I can explain everything. Seriously. Calm down, take a minute, take some deep breaths. I'm hanging up now, okay?"

We should... probably go follow somebody else now.

[theshinyones]

>Notice that the cats are wielding your gun.

Now that's just stupid. For one thing, cats don't have opposable thumbs. Even if a cat had the opposable thumbs to operate a firearm, they wouldn't have the strength to heft it, never mind the body mass to deal with the recoil. Hell, you can barely lug that thing around, it's a .45.

... Hey, that's funny. Where's Sodium? Oh, well, the cats generally have the run of your house so it's not that surprising, he'll turn up. You get your gun out of its locked case- ... There is a magazine of ammunition missing.

There is also a note, written on... a pair of underwear: "Had to go commando. I.O.U. one magazine, .45 Colt. -- Roomie"

You have no idea what the fuck is going on. If one more weird thing happens you are going to flip the fuck out.

This is just ridiculous.

[theshinyones]

Cats!

>Oh dear, you must have hit your head pretty hard back there. You're probably still in that store under the shelf with a severe concussion because you're imagining this, right? Haha, funny. Somebody left the TV on, right?

You certainly don't feel concussed. And you don't have that strange, floaty feeling you associate with a concussion hallucination.

The TV is off. You hang up the phone and start looking around. The radio is off... The door's not open or anything...

>Stare suspiciously at those cats.

You look at the cats. Sodium and Aluminum aren't doing anything suspicious, though. They're just... Looking at you. Staring.

With those eyes.

Those big, innocent eyes. Such precious babies they are.

... Okay, that's enough of that. Cats can't talk, and even if they could, how would they dial a phone? Well, they might have batted at the phone and knocked it off the hook but you've never seen them do that before.

You'd better find that person who was here. Maybe you'd better get your gun, too. Flour's all well and good for improvisation, but for home defense you prefer your pistol.

Where was it again?

[ST's Notes: If you particularly enjoy Shiny!, feel free to submit a suggestion, in the form of a text command, such as >Inventory, or >Collect Pumpkin.]