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Finding Creeperson with the platicware had been a lesson- uncomfortable feelings around uncomfortable people in military clothing probably meant the opposite of super special awesome. But it doesn't answer much about what exactly is going ON out here.

Some quiet questions to some of the RA's had pointed to the University library and the audiovisual files with reports from Tag Swagger. It had all felt a little greasy, and just confusing. Everything was just confusing. So Sandrine kept going out in some of the early hours before any classes or stuff. Getting to sleep after assignments and classes was no biggie, but wakefulness just kept coming well before the alarm. Wakefulness and bristling waiting for the pounding on the door, to find roomate's eyes open in silent death, or to hear chains and shrieking in the distance. The cold 4am dark was a lot less harrowing than just sitting still and straight in bed. A heavy coat over one arm, and Jack had gone out and down the fire stair.

Sandrine had clambered gracelessly up to the roof of one of the liberal arts class buildings, and was walking the edge of the ledge in a dubious practice of balance while keeping an eye out for any alien cats or other persons dressed in far too little. Some experimentation with wearing the coat, and then leaving it on a bench, had provided the necessary information of how to be in uniform AND have a coat to wear. The brown suede and fluff jacket didn't really match with the whole bathing-suit-warrior vibe, but it was a lot better than without.

There was that vague feeling. At least this time it wasn't a growing, creeping crescendo of dread and dismay. It was warm, more like mulled cider heavy in the gut and champagne bubbles behind sinuses. Friendly. The sound of near boots, and a turn brought the source to bear- another sailor person and one that was known. " Oh, hey!"

Sandrine lifted a coated arm to wave and balance walked back to the eternal after a wobbly turn. "Hey, it was 'Ida', wasn't it? Aren't you cold? I don't know how everyone just blasts about on rooves like it ain't no thing. This is really high up, you know? Roofers fall down tiles and break their arms all the time. My dad's in general contracting, you know? Ryan homes, and subdevelopments, and stuff. "

"But here, like DCU here? I don't know. It's close is all, and there's....been those things sometimes around campus. The monsters. I don't actually know what I'd do about finding one, but the cat said we're supposed to protect people and stop those things. "

"The one I saw, or...didn't see...it didn't drop money or loot or anything. Just ashes all over the hall, floor and ceiling. Are they supposed to drop loot? That might be wishful thinking from games, huh?"

Suit yourself, man. You're old enough to know when you need a jacket or not. Or to make a dumb decision and not wear one when you're cold. 'Forget,' my a**. "I'll skip testing out on he breakage or not and take your word for it. I'm not THAT kinesthetic. "

"Well...it was just the one. The cops and security and all that handled it, actually. And really? I didn't see a god-damned thing. I'd looked and stuff, thought there was something creepy. But it was either invisible, or cloaked, or maybe it was all vampire mist or something. I don't know. Its over with though. And you know...I'm here all the time maybe not in uniform, but you're the first other ruffle partier I've met while out here. And I've been looking. "

"Did a talking cat come toss a pen at you too? You haven't seen any around, have you? Do you think they're really aliens and can talk for reals? i thought I was pretty sure it was all real. It's not like that ...." Sandrine paused, words catching around sensation and strong feeling. "None of that was alright and that isn't the kinda stuff that a brain just makes up for kicks. Its all real enough. But the cat stuff...what is up with the cats. You'd think a little more than 'go attack monsters' would be in order. LIke how do I find the things. Or where IS everyone else. There were LOTS of people in ruffles tripping over each other in the spinning hall o' freakshow."

"Are you okay, by the way? I mean, I'm glad to see you up and about. Usually arrows would make a Bambi's Mom outta someone. " Please don't have to hug it out, though. That'd be really weird right now.

Sandrine perked, looking down off the ledge. "Sure, walking is cool. I figure the more practice I get just.... being out in this dumb getup the better I gotta get at it. I mean, I've worn similar stuff and all, but there's a big difference between stage costume, Xena Warrior Princess, and say...actual combat gear? Fire retardants and flak-jackets seem way better. This outfit is just-"

Sandrine turned around to face inward the building, shimmied backside off the ledge to hang there at extension a moment, breathed and then let go to drop as though from a really high tree branch. The actual landing was into some shrubbery, which made a racket, and got a bunch of twigs caught in the laces and seams of the creepo-bloody boots. That done, the basic senshi trotted over to the indicated street to catch up to the eternal. "80's fantasy female 'protective' gear, right? Blades and claws not really going to have trouble with a two piece compared to a breastplate. "

"And who goes monster bashing in these?" A foot was lifted demonstratively. "At least I had to learn how to walk in pumps already since apparently the only acceptably 'hot' footwear is 4-inch heels and hose whatever gender. This is still a lot higher than that. And 70s hair metal. Do we get any say in what goes on these? Can we petition someone? And what about the whole 'magic'? What did you get told to 'cast'? Can we choose other spells? Cause I'm sure Execution is all helpful for killing monsters, supposedly, but its pretty damned creepy in my opinion. This isn't really Texas, you know? I thought we were beyond the whole capital punishment system of Get Along. "

"Is that other one alright, do you know? Crap...names...Cherryglo? The rescues all got carted off to the Big Medical, but it didn't seem like anyone else was going to wise up and go. "

That's a pretty good idea...there's self defense classes and stuff at the student center. They're mostly for getting mugger though aren't they? And for like....knives. Or guns. I don't think there's self defense classes that go on about how to defend yourself against some crazy with a claymore. But man, something's gotta be better than nothing. There's gotta be some Pokey McStabberson out there with knives and that'd be just when I'd be sad that I made light of plain old self defense classes. Sandine squinched up winter-chilled nose, "Balls, man. Baaaalllllllllllllssss. No use shooting the messenger, though. But if I ever meet the doof responsible for the whole 'As Is' policy on this schtick they deserve a punch in the gut and jamming into one of their own dumb get ups. "

But if there was nothing doing to help it, there wasn't any use in badgering the point anymore in worry or in complaint. "At least it doesn't take another $3.75 in the laundry, right?"

The little device was a strange little thing, but seemed suited for the purpose Ida described for it. Sandrine was going to ask where Ida had even found a cat, or a team, in order to have gotten the thing made, but the point about identities weighted more heavily in the air and counseled silence and consideration. That...makes pretty good sense. They could be anyone, like other students or teachers, or the barrista, or like...Mom. If it's all 'alter ego' then we're all like Spiderman and Peter Parker.

"Wrong person finds out who you are and its your family, you and everything you know dead or in that funhouse kinda gig....yeah...that's not cool. 'Fell into a doorknob' doesn't work for domestic violence, so its not really going to for machete prods. " Can't really go to the hospital. Can't talk to parents about it. Can't talk to friends about it. The Police are probably on the Terrorist bandwagon.

Sandrine rubbed hands over the forearms of the jacket, like pressing out the nerves or cold. "So how is anyone still alive out doing this? This isn't sounding like really good odds for not ending eyes up in a gutter somewhere."

Laughs were pretty usual, and even gunned for, for the most part of Jack's interactions with the world. Normally it was a really welcome and warming sound. Ida's laugh, in that place and time, in reaction to the barrage of commentary on the state of the supposed war and people dying was just surreal. Whether it was good surreal or bad surreal, Jack couldn't quite separate out. The senshi of Execution looked over and down at the other, quirking a little and offering the wan, anemic sort of smile back that probably said everything. The way that Ida's supposed mirth faltered and vanished so suddenly afterward just clinched it. Dealing with this one's gonna be a little sad the way dealing with senior dementia patients or war vets is. Gotta respect their losses and sacrifices, but whooooo doggie are they not working with a full deck of cards, let alone half the cards are probably from Uno, Magic the Gathering and Old Maid. Like your brain is Egyptian Rat Screw.

" 'War isn't Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.
Tell me, who goes to Hell? So the father says, Sinners, I believe. '"

" ' Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them - little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander. ' " Sandrine paraphrased and made the two voices of the conversation plain, used to pantomiming and voicing for the stage. "Its alright, don't worry about it. If we've got the juice to act...it's what we gotta do, right? There's probably a lot of answers none of us have. But if we're the one with the half-step into wonderland, and the magic to protect everyone else....if we don't do it....who else will? "

"It's gotta be better than standing in line at the bank, anyway. Too bad we can't get paid for it. I bet the truth about stuff like this always sucks. "

Sandrine considered, moving pursed mouth from one side to the other. "The cat mentioned how to transform, and how to magic, yeah. I HAVE a weirdo hocus pocus phone. It doesn't seem to call anyone when I beeped numbers in it. And that's about all I've done with it, since it seems to go away with all the rest of the get up other than the Lisa Frank pen when I'm not in this stupid outfit. That's all the cat really mentioned other than there's monster out there and their people in uniforms. Then the little s**t scarpered. So whatever you mean about planet or 'power signatures' is a whole load of gobbledygook."

"I came to the funhouse because the phone got some SMS thing, and seems to work enough like a normal phone that I figured out how to button mash to read the message. " Sandrine shrugged, pulling the phone from jacket pocket. "I mean, where am I even supposed to keep this thing? This bikini-ma-jig doesn't exactly have pockets. "

"So I guess whatever you feel up to explaining would be a big help."

Okay, step one to making any sort of sense of the whole shebang was to completely suspend disbelief. It was more then a requirement, it was an absolute necessity- like breathing oxygen. Especially the moment the term 'sub space' came out of Ida's mouth in complete and total earnest use. The other senshi didn't even notice how weird the stuff was coming out.

yup. Gonna come out another perfect lunatic myself. Alright. So let's go with it. Dimensional pockets. Why not. Magical blood splashes all over me and turns into clothes. Why not sub space pockets. What is Science. We dun need no science.

"Alright. This GPS thing....is it just one dimensional? Like it's not going to tell me if someone is two floors above me or something on an elevation? What about our Force-sense? How accurate is that? I kinda know what you mean- you feel cleanish like laundry scent in winter. But I couldn't tell you were down or up or what. Is it practice makes perfect, or do I have to kill so many of x to get a proverbial level up or something? That seems kinda dangerous if we're all always broadcasting a flag. Can't we stop it somehow? Oh wait.... Do we give it off regularly too? I'm not gonna have some black thing busting in the backstage am I? I don't want to get anyone hurt just because I was standing there next to them when something picked up my scent. "