Of Brats and Bratwurst

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Ahana is accosted by a superstitionist, whilst her hair may or may not look silly after threatening Corvids

Date: 02/06/2018

Time: 12:30 EST

Downtown Detroit, MI


Cast:

Storyteller:

It's a busy day in downtown Detroit. The city escaped super bowl stuff, but there's still a hint of excitement over the defeat of the Patriots. A pack of fans have created their own impromptu Super Bowl parade near the park, setting up a cookout despite the weather (or because of it?). One man is setting up a literal soapbox and is ready to talk to passers by. "I have seen the future, and I control the destiny of mankind thanks to the heroics of the Philadephia Eagles."

Meandering along in her military parka to guard against the cold, Ahana pauses as she hears the crazy speak from his soapbox. Her lips quirk just a bit as she shoves her hands in her pockets and listens; hey everyone is entertained by this kind of thing at least a little.

The man, about 50, dressed in a trenchcoat and Eagles ballcap, points right at Ahana. "You, yes you, I can see your future. You have great destiny of will. What is your name?"

"Ahana," says Ahana as she straightens and tosses her hair a bit in the process, "Ahana Varma." She is aware of the predjudice her skin color and name might bring about, and yet seems in defiance of any who might hold it against her. "And you are barking up the wrong tree, man. I'm just one more person on the street."

The man's pretty pale, hints of white hair under the cap. Finger's a bit bony as he points at her. "Ahana Varma. Would you care for me to tell your future? What your destiny holds? I have powers."

"You have superstition and social engineering," responds Ahana venomously, "But sure. Let's see what you have to say. I need some amusement." Indeed, the way she spits these venomous words with a broad smile on her face makes the incongruity all the more piercing. She approaches, straight of stature and with her hands now down to her sides. She does not cover herself or cower in any way, she shows absolutely no fear; a mountain of will and resolve making her stature like iron itself.

The man looks at the woman intently. "I see in your future... strong self assuredness. Strong firearms booming. A strong willed woman. Just like the Eagles. Am I wrong?" He raises a hand, and one of the other fans gives him a high five.

Snorting, Ahana shows her teeth and begins to walk onwards as she says "Not even worth a laugh." Hands stuffed back into her pockets she moves as though with purpose even though she has no particular destination in mind. Her long trane of midnight hair sways like a serpentine river of stars against her back.

The man doesn't give up so easily. He cries out "I can see it. You're not just some bum. You're going to clean up these streets, and by God, they need it. But there is a danger, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah," says Ahana as she raises a hand but doesn't really look back, waving dismissively "The wisdom of the ages. Always be yourself. Except when you can be Batman, then always be Batman."

Taking the answer as encouragement, he hops off of the soap box and starts walking after her. "How are you not the least bit curious, that I haven't said one wrong word?"

Whorling about as he begins to follow, Ahana manages to look at him as though she were looking down on him. She might even be, after all at 5'6" she's as tall as the average... Californian man at least. "Because you have been speaking in vagueries that could be easily guessed from my appearance. Because you are a superstitionist" she spits that word, "And I'm not superstitious. I've seen tricks like yours before. Profilers do it all the time. As do side show acts."

The thin man, aging poorly, crosses his arms. "I see. So you're a science person. Well, then test me. Isn't that what science does?"

"TEST you?" responds Ahana as she looks at him incredulously, "Okay. Here is a test; what is my REAL first name?"

The man's jaw drops, and he looks at her like she's some stupid child. "Your name? Chosen by your parents, possibly before you were born, reflects absolutely nothing upon you, and has ntohing to do with seeing your destiny." HE says this with an implied "Well, duh."

Rubbing at her temple, there is obvious tension on Ahana's face though her smile remains unabated. "And yet, condiering destiny is defined as events that will necessarily happen to a person in the future? Numerologists claim to be able to prognosticate that from someone's name. So why me? Why pick me? Is this a pickup line? I know I look a LOT younger than you, but Sir I am nearly fourty. I wasn't born yesterday."

The man is taken aback. "You're 40? Wow. I figured.. 32 tops. Wow." He then gathers himself and folds his arms again. "This is no mere numerology, madam. If you're going to be shooting anyone, don't you want to know the consequences?"

"Of course I do," says Ahana, "Every life weighs FAR heavier than the miniscule weight behind the pull of a trigger. And I'm NOT fourty, just close to it. Geeze, even women who are ex-soldiers have SOME vanity." She sighs, "Look. Just spit it all out. I don't have all day. I'll judge the weight of your words in my OWN way. But do you really think this is the best approach? Hold court on top of a soap box during what is likely a drunken celebration and accost a lone woman passing by on the street with your superstition? Destiny ain't set, man. The future is a branch of hundreds of possibilities from EACH decision all happening at once. Even if you could somehow divine those futures, you're only glimpsing a small portion of the greater whole. Even the statistic inevitability of the most basic of human behaviors is subject to deviation and chaos."

The man's lips tighten, and press together. It's cold. He listens and nods. Then bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, he punches, and hums. Eyes closing. "You will fire. You will gravely injure the superstitionist you've aimed at. But it will turn out it wasn't superstition, but a deeper truth beyond your comprehension."

<<DICE>> Ahana rolls Perception+Empathy, difficulty 9
<<DICE>> FAIL (1 10, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)
<<DICE>> Ahana rolls Perception+Awareness, difficulty 9
<<DICE>> FAIL (2 3 5, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)

"Truth is always beyond comprehension, in the end," says Ahana, "That's part of what makes the continual digging for it worthwhile." She sighs, "Allright. Noted. I'll keep my eyes and ears open and see what comes of this. Meanwhile, your party seems to be missing it's priest."

The man nods. "You an Eagles fan? We've got brats on the grill." He says with a growing smile. But then fades. "Don't go fight in the disincorporated zone. Don't go full Robocop. It's not worth it." He then laughs, slaps her on the shoulder amiably, and returns to the group.

"Mmm," responds Ahana, still smiling even now. She scratches her cheek lightly after she is clapped on the shoulder, watching the man return to his party she sighs and lets her shoulders slump before going back to her stroll in the opposite direction. "Well. I haven't yet, anyway," she murmurs to herself as she shakes her head.