Ginky and Infant's Bizarre Encounter! A One-on-One Battle! Breathe vs. Weezer!

[GinkyGotBack]

J.P.'s eyes were as wide as the plate he dropped earlier when he saw that the towels and foot basin were real.
"What the hell? What the hell are those doing in there? I got a bowl from that cupboard just a few minutes ago and there sure as hell wasn't a tub or any towels in there!"
The searing pain in his foot reminded him of the situations he was in as he gritted his teeth together and hissed.
J.P. dipped his feet in the tub and sighed as the water enveloped his feet until they were nice and cool.

Once more, a cold cloud escaped his mouth as he sighed, something he failed to notice as he had closed his eyes.
The cloud faded away into the air just as quickly as it had appeared, however, dispersing into the air.
"Well, as weird as that was it sure as hell was convenient. You won't hear any complaints from this guy!"
J.P. chuckled once more at his own joke, willing to put aside how bizarre that whole scenario just was so long as the burns on his feet were able to cool off.

 

[Haz.]

While J.P. relaxed, Pinkerton was still tense. The fact that the man didn't see anything in the cupboard previously only piled onto the Stand's suspicion.
Something is seriously wrong. I don't know what's going on, but I need to keep my guard up. They thought, mustering a nervous chuckle as they leaned back against the counter.
"Incredibly convenient indeed. I can't disagree with that."

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Like I said before, you're free to stay the night if you want. The blizzard should be gone by sometime tomorrow if my phone is right. In the living room, there are four doors for four different bedrooms. I've got the one at the end of the hall on the right, but feel free to pick any of the others to make your own! They're all about the same size, but I think the one across from mine is a bit bigger and has a queen-sized bed."

With another quick sigh of relief, J.P. stood up from his foot tub and grabbed one of the towels off of the floor, using the dry side to wipe his feet. "I think it might be best if you made your own soup. I feel like I might get distracted and mess it up. In the meantime, I'm going to have a hot shower to balance this cold bath I just had!"

J.P. laughed as he made his way to the bathroom, leaving Pinkerton to their own devices. As they heard the showerhead turn on, it was all up to them how they would spend their time alone while J.P. took his shower.

 

[Haz.]

"That's alright. Thank you for your hospitality." Pinkerton smiled, watching as J.P. left before rummaging through the cupboards to prepare the soup.
--
The room was a departure from norm for Pinkerton. Usually, they'd go to sleep in large, storage tank-like pods which were more than often cramped, upright, and had to be filled with sleep-inducing gasses because of how uncomfortable they were. Fortunately, that meant that any subjects who would try to escape wouldn't be able to, and those who normally could, usually via some Stand ability, were implanted with brainwave scanners which would detect and incapacitate them if they so much as thought about using their powers to escape.
That, obviously, made the Speedwagon Foundation labs feel more like prisons. Scientists who would attempt to leave without permission would be tracked down--usually by the anti-worker strike division of the Foo Fighter units, which Pinkerton was a part of--and then promptly detained, and any Foo Fighter units who tried to escape would be promptly terminated. It took years of earning the chief officers' trust before Pinkerton was even allowed to leave the lab, and even then that was only under supervision from at least one commanding officer.
Fortunately, that was not the case here: Pinkerton quickly drifted off to sleep with ease in the cabin's queen-sized bed, with little resistance or discomfort in the way.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

The next morning arrived with nothing notable happening.

J.P. could be found sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot chocolate cupped in his hands as he stared out the window, studying the outside world like an art critic would study a painting.
Lifting the coffee cup to his lips, J.P. would drop the mug and spit out his drink as he felt his tongue burn from the still very hot chocolate.
The drink spilled onto the floor and the mug smashed against the ground as he made no attempt to try and catch it.
"Ah, hot! Hot! Hot!!"
J.P. ran to the kitchen sink and started running his lips and tongue under the cold water, thirstily drinking it down in an attempt to cool the inside of his throat.

 

[Haz.]

oh hey i'm calling pinkerton a she now even though she doesn't have a gender because 'they' feels weird for me to use

"You're too clumsy, J.P." Pinkerton stood idly in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Now that Jean had a better look at the Speedwagon Foundation operative, it became clear how unnervingly tall she was, almost reaching 6'6 feet in height and was, from what the man could see through her padded winter coat, incredibly fit. She did also smell like rubber, which didn't help disguise the fact that she looked like a humanoid hot rod car under all that clothing. Fortunately, her personality didn't exude any hostility, despite the fact that she looked like she could bench-press two whales laying flat on top of each other using only one arm. /s
"I just hope you conveniently left some more towels in the cupboards again." She joked, waltzing over to the kitchen counter to check for herself.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"I tahl yoo, ah dihn oh at," J.P. tried to say, his mouth wide open as water rushed into and over.
When his tongue was feeling cool enough, he took one last gulp of tap water and switched off the sink.
"I told you, I didn't do that. Why would I put any of that stuff in the cupboard with the plates? It doesn't make sense."
With all that happened yesterday, J.P. never really got a good look at Pinkerton, besides her face. Among all the other things he just noticed about her, J.P. also noticed that she was still wearing her weird makeup.
"Did you apply the same makeup again? You must really take your job seriously."
Grabbing a dry washcloth from the counter, J.P. tossed it towards Pinkerton as he made for the broom.
"If you could clean my mess up for me, I can take care of that broken mug. Just be careful, the hot chocolate is still, well, hot."

As Pinkerton was no doubt mopping up the coffee with the washcloth, the first thing she would have noticed was that the hot chocolate wasn't hot at all. It was very cold to the touch as if it had been sitting out for a long time already. When J.P. came back with the broom, he crouched down beside Pinkerton and swept the broken shards of the coffee mug into the dustpan.
"First the plate and now this... I guess I really am clumsy..."
J.P. sighed, letting another cloud of cold air escape from his lungs. The cloud wafted into Pinkerton's face and dispersed just as quickly as it appeared.
"I don't know why I've been like this recently. I've just been so slow to react to things, I can't seem to help it."

Being so close to Pinkerton, J.P. took the time to study her once again, as he still felt something was off about her.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

J.P.'s Precision Roll: Moderate Failure!!
(A Moderate result is a Success or Failure with a complication. A Moderate Failure will still result in an incomplete Action, but there may be an unexpected advantage to the new situation, or something to reduce the consequences of Failure.)

J.P. still couldn't put his finger on what was wrong with Pinkerton, but he definitely knew something was up. She hadn't taken off her coat or even changed her clothes since she got here. She couldn't still possibly be cold, could she? And that's when he noticed that there was a bit of a dark spot below her neck too, not that he was trying to look down her coat or anything, it just sort of happened.

Clearing his throat, J.P. attempted to stammer out a question.
"So, uh, do you, ahem, wear makeup on the rest of your, uh, body too? I couldn't help but notice that, uh, ahem ahem, that beneath your neck is a bit dark too..."

 

[Haz.]

Pink shrugged off J.P.'s excuse. She was still uneasy about that situation, as the only logical explanations were either:
A) that it was a Stand attack - which was incredibly unlikely. After all, why would this man use his Stand to create mundane objects in convenient places? It wouldn't exactly be an 'attack' in that case;
or B) that this J.P. was just incredibly clumsy, and incredibly forgetful, which wasn't unlikely - simple human error(s).
As the two finished sweeping up the shards of ceramic, Pink stood back up and leaned against the fridge, arms crossed.
"Well, if you didn't put it there, then no one else could have. I'm sure you had a reason--you've probably just forgotten it, that's all." Still, even that answer was unsatisfactory. J.P.'s breath was cold and misty, too; the stove was on, so he couldn't be that cold, could he? Things weren't adding up, but Pinkerton didn't want to incite a confrontation - after all, this man graciously allowed her to wait out the storm in his cabin...
The very same storm which was still ongoing. She furrowed her brow; the window was almost as white as a blank canvas. The blizzard was still raging on in the background, likely burying those who were caught outside in mountains of snow.
She found herself caught off-guard when J.P. inquired about her 'makeup'. She stuttered for a moment, trying to conjure an answer, before finally giving him an answer.
"O-Oh, u-uhh, yeah. Like you said, I-I take my job seriously. Besides, it can look nice when I can capture the right, err, style. A-Anyway, how long's the blizzard going to go on for? You said it'd be done by today." She desperately tried to change the subject of the conversation, finding it difficult to do so without coming off as shady or rude. She just had to hope he wouldn't notice the big, metal doohickey on the left side of her chest - that would be much harder to explain.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

J.P. raised an eyebrow at Pinkerton's explanation.
"Yeah, but what's the point of wearing makeup on your body if you're just going to wear your coat over it? It's not that cold in here..."

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

As Pinkerton changed the subject, he found himself staring out the window again, watching the snow whip in the wind like some kind of hectic dance.
. . .
"I don't know, that's what my phone told me anyway. You know how the weather reports are like though, it's never guaranteed to be right."

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

J.P. sighed once again, letting out yet another cloud of cold air. "If I'm being honest, I'm kind of glad this blizzard is still going on. I was supposed to head back home yesterday and go back to work, but with this snowstorm trapping us here, it's like I get a few extra days to relax and recover."

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"I wouldn't being stuck here for just another few days... After my accident at work, it'd feel embarrassing just showing up again after being gone for so long... Not to mention, I'm starting to really like it here. This place is really amazing once you've taken some time to know it. Even with this storm going on, I still find myself enthralled with the natural beauty of the nature around here and the snow."

J.P. sighed once more, completely enamored with the chillingly beautiful sight outside, never taking his eyes off of it for even a second.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

 

[Haz.]

Pinkerton, yet again, shrugged. Yet, J.P.'s remark struck her as particularly odd. If it isn't that cold, then what's the matter with his breathing? Am I simply imagining things..?
The longer she stayed, the more things began to stick out as weird, or downright uncanny. J.P. seemed completely innocuous, but if he really was a Stand user, then the otherwise harmless 'incidents' that have been occurring may be done with more sinister intentions. Now, Pinker was much less keen on simply shedding any lurking suspicions.
She frowned, turning towards Jean, who was now poetically monologuing into the window. But, something caught her attention. Something was incredibly distracting, yet she couldn't discern what it was. It was a sound, that much she could ascertain.
The clock? That was always there, though she didn't pay much attention to it. Then, it hit her.
"Is your clock broken...? It's stopping longer with every few seconds."

 

[GinkyGotBack]

It took J.P. a minute to respond, either he hadn't been listening or he'd been distracted by the view from outside.
Eventually, he answered her as if he hadn't just spaced out.
"Yeah, that thing's been busted for a while now. It shouldn't be ticking though, the last time I checked it had stopped completely. At first, I thought the batteries had just died, but when I switched them out the hands still weren't moving."

But the hands most certainly were moving. Slowly, but surely, the hands on the clock were ticking away.
It seemed to take an eternity for them to move though, with every movement of the second hand seemingly taking longer and longer than the last.
Until eventually, it stopped. The hands stopped moving altogether as the clock stood motionless on the wall.
And J.P. was still crouched on the floor of the kitchen, kept staring out the window, with every blink of his eyes taking longer than the last.

 

[Haz.]

Pinkerton's eyes widened. Realization finally dawned on her.
It... It can't be...
J.P. was blinking--reacting, even--so slowly that he might as well have been frozen in time. Every blink came at different intervals, each longer than the last. At this point, it took him so long to blink that the fact that his eyes weren't watering was enough to tip Pinker off.
Is he the Stand user...? If I attack him now, I'll get the element of surprise... But, what if he isn't the Stand user? I can't risk harming an innocent bystander. That'd qualify as a guideline violation, and that means they'd have to terminate me...
Just like the rest.
She turned to the stove. The crackling of the fire became slow. The wisps of flame leaped high into the air, then plummeted back down in an ever-decelerating free-fall, until even they became as still as the clock.
I need to arm myself. Even if he sees me activating my Stand ability, I must be ready for an attack. Pinkerton thought, in a moment of absolute desperation. She approached the stove, and stuffed her hands into the sizzling oven.

Stand: Weezer

Weezer's ability is to absorb heat from the surrounding area, or specific objects, and convert it into fuel, which substitutes for Pinkerton's lack of the ability to regulate her own body temperature. This also allows her to concentrate and project the heat that she absorbs in the form of fire, or evenly disperse it throughout her body to warm herself. A powerful Stand, but one that relies especially on the user's surroundings - a cold environment is Pinkerton's greatest weakness.

The heat was absorbed into Pinkerton's blackened fingers. Warmth coursed through her body yet again. The 'engine' on her chest turned a deep orange, as smoke began to trickle out of the vents on her back.
More. I need to create enough smoke to cloud the area. If the enemy Stand user can still move in this 'slowed time' effect, I need to make sure I can draw out heat from anywhere in the house. If I let out a burst of fire, the cabin might catch ablaze, so I also need to focus the heat around specific parts of my body so I can still scald them without potentially jeopardizing the house. Until I figure out whether or not J.P. is the enemy, I need to keep him out of harm's way.
--
Moments later, the house was clouded with smoke. This, obviously, made it hard to breathe, but Pinker knew that lung cancer was the preferable alternative to death. She took off her jacket and tied it around her neck, using the hood as a pseudo-smoke mask. Her lungs were already incredibly resistant to toxic gasses considering pyrokinesis was her specialty, but she found comfort in taking precautions. After all, it was better safe than sorry.

​

 

[GinkyGotBack]

As the smoke began to pour out of the vents on Pinkerton's back, the rate at which it was produced began slowing down, eventually to an almost infuriatingly slow pace. Meanwhile, J.P. had not yet reacted to the smoke filling the room, still crouched down on the floor staring at the window, blinking very, very slowly.

Nevertheless, as the smoke started slowly crawling out of Pinkerton's vents, they suddenly felt something slam against the back of their head. The force of the blow wasn't enough to damage them considering how durable it was, but looking around, they couldn't see the source of what caused it. Nothing had moved or changed around the kitchen since they started producing smoke.

 

[Haz.]

THUD
A metal object struck Pinkerton in the back of her neck, then sharply withdrew. It didn't hurt - not enough for her to react with more than a wince - but she had to react quickly. She turned heel, sharply, wound up her fist, and in a split second of blind determination, she swung with all her might at whatever invisible force hit her. If she would be a second late, then the enemy would have time to retreat and likely strike her in return. Her speed wasn't all that impressive, but the strength behind it was more than enough to cause a concussion to anything it hits.
"ORAAAAA!"

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Pinkerton's Speed Roll: Moderate Failure

As Pinkerton spun around to hit back at whatever had struck her, she would be surprised as her fist met with thin air. Whatever it was that had hit her wasn't there, and there were no signs of what happened to it or where it might have gone. However, something in front of her caught her eye.

A pot sitting on top of an oven began spinning around, quickly getting faster and faster until it flew off the oven top and towards Pinkerton's face. Any attempt to strike it down was in vain as whatever touched it seemed to phase through. As it reached Pinkerton's face, it stopped dead in its tracks as a dent the shape of the back of Pinkerton's head formed on the pot and then fell to the ground at her feet.

Behind her, J.P. had finally stood up, coughing into his hand as the smoke began to fill the kitchen entirely. Turning around, he looked at Pinkerton with a surprised look of horror on his face as he started running towards the living room.

 

[Haz.]

Pinkerton stumbled forward, carried along by the momentum of the punch. She ground to a halt, planting her left foot forth to regain her standing. Suddenly, a pot began shaking uncontrollably, before flying directly at her. She raised her arms to block it, but it was too late...
The pot came to a sharp halt in mid-air, a sudden dent in its side.
Was that... how I got hit? But that makes no sense whatsoever - his Stand slows the flow of time, so why did I just experience his attack after it happened? Could it be that I've misconstrued his power?
As Pinkerton was musing over the enemy's power, J.P. scrambled out of the room in terror. She bit her tongue - it was exactly what she was dreading would happen: the moment she'd be confronted with a risky choice that weighed her life against someone else's. She wanted to chase after him, knowing the enemy would likely use him as bait, but...
No, it's too dangerous. If I enter the living room, I'll be exactly where the enemy wants me to be. The kitchen is a confined enough space that I'll be able to attack and defend myself with much more ease, even against an invisible enemy. J.P. could be injured, but if I die, there'll be no one to stop this Stand user. I don't know what his motivation is, but I can't let any bystanders jeopardize this. I need to treat this attack with the same integrity that I would a critical mission.
Still, she was unsure. Ethically, the best course of action would be to pursue Jean; he'd shown her kindness, hospitality, and saved her from a potentially life-threatening scenario. It would only be natural for her to do the same to him.
Yet, ethics were no longer of any concern. An invisible enemy with an extraordinary power was loose somewhere within the cabin, and if Pinkerton failed to capture him, her death would not be painless termination via euthanasia - it would be bloody manslaughter, and a wanted criminal would be left free to their own devices, capable of killing many more innocents should anyone fail to stop him.
She grimaced.
I need to deduce his ability first.
'J.P.'s life is merely an afterthought.' Though she kept telling herself this, she knew, deep down, that it was wrong; that disobeying orders would be the heroic thing to do, and that there was still hope that she could leave the cabin virtually unscathed with a still-breathing Jean-Philippe at her side like she was a character from an action movie.
But... This wasn't an action movie. It was his life or hers, and while the thought of leaving an innocent at the mercy of a dangerous enemy was unbearable, it was the only decision she could make that wouldn't put the both of them at even greater risk. And thus, Pinkerton stood idly, holding her ground in preparation for any incoming attacks, regretful but determined to see the fight through to the end.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

All was quiet as Pinkerton stood waiting for something to attack. For a while, it seemed the worst was over until suddenly, she could feel something pushing down hard on her from above. However, while she could feel it, she couldn't actually see what it was that was doing this. It was as if an invisible force was trying to crush her like someone had tossed a heavy barbell onto her chest. It would've taken her everything she had just to keep it from knocking her onto the ground.

(Pinkerton suffers 2 Light Injuries from this invisible force)

 

[Haz.]

Pinkerton was suddenly caught off guard when an enormous weight came crashing down upon her. She let out a gruff yelp as she was pinned to the ground by the force, struggling to get a grip on the mass that was subduing her.
This... What is this..?! This is a single-story house! Whatever's crushing me isn't a normal object, either - it has no texture or temperature like the pot that struck me moments ago! Could it be that this is his Stand?! She scowled. Slowly but surely, the object continued to press down on her, threatening to squash her to death given enough time.
"I... can't... breathe...! I'm going to... suffocate to death before this--cough--object crushes me...! I need to get free..!" Putting all her energy into one more push, she placed her palms around the center of the object's mass and began to shove with all her might, trying to lift up the object.
It's heavy, but not the heaviest I've lifted - if it was, I'd already be dead! I just need to put all my effort into this!

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Pinkerton's A Rank Power Roll: Definite Success!!

Using as much force as she could muster, Pinkerton was able to successfully push the force off of her completely, although no damage seemed to be caused by it.

Just as she had freed herself from the weight of the invisible force, Pinkerton could see the oven (not the wood stove) from across the room lift itself into the air and hurtle itself towards Pinkerton, threatening to crush her. However, the oven stopped in place in midair as it reached Pinkerton, remaining motionless in the air and even seeming to phase through her when she touched it. As it stood in place, Pinkerton could suddenly feel the texture and coldness of cool metal against her upper chest and hands, even though she wasn't touching anything. Then suddenly, the oven was thrown back into the wall hard enough to break through. Luckily enough, it hadn't completely smashed through the wall, reassuring that the weather outside wouldn't be moving inside anytime soon.

 

[Haz.]

Pinkerton hurled the force through the wall adjacent to her. The object conveniently didn't crash through the wall, stopping short of dislodging the wooden planks, which let her sigh in relief. Not long after, like she expected, she witnessed what happened with her very own eyes - except this time, something was different. While last time, she could feel the pot's texture and temperature the moment it hit her with only an unnoticeable delay, now the oven was only 'felt' once she could finally see it falling on top of her. Not to mention how it just lifted itself off the ground and flung itself towards her.
Wait... Could it be that his power doesn't decelerate the flow of time? Could it be... my senses? Is he slowing down the speed at which my senses react to external forces? If this goes on for long enough, he could kill me and I wouldn't realize it until much later...! I need to find him and defeat him before he has the opportunity to do that!
Pinkerton broke into a sprint, rushing down the hall and towards the living room.
Don't slow down - I'm entering an area with more objects, but as long as I remain on the run, I won't need to see in order to dodge. Hopefully the smoke will throw off his aim.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Pinkerton's E Rank Speed Roll: Moderate Failure!!

Pinkerton had made it as far as the archway into the living room when suddenly, something had grabbed her by the ankle, wrapping around it like a snake. Just like before, she couldn't see what it was touching her, although she had a good idea what it was considering there was a long rug leading from the kitchen to the living room right under her feet as she fell.

 

[Haz.]

If he knows precisely where I am with enough accuracy to throw objects directly at me and attempt to grab me, he's probably somewhere nearby... But where? Where could this enemy be that I can't see him..?!
The moment something interrupted Pinkerton's train of thought and grabbed her by the ankle, she immediately lunged into the air to try and grab the archway and swing her way into the living room. She wasted no time looking back or struggling with the rug, only trying to tear herself away from it and maneuver through the house.
I don't have any time to waste struggling - I just need to find him and defeat him before my senses go completely numb.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Rug's Power Roll D (Contest): Failure
Pinkerton's Power Roll A (Contest): Failure

Try as hard as they might, neither the invisible force nor Pinkerton could make any progress pulling each other.

As Pinkerton tried pulling herself through the arch, she could indeed see that the rug behind her had come to life and coiled itself around her ankle in an attempt to drag her away from the living room. The two continued their respective pulling, although neither of them made any leeway.

 

[Haz.]

"Enough!" Pinkerton shouted as he struggled to get loose of the rug. She grimaced - fortunately, enough experimentation with her ability meant that she wasn't left with but one option: she had two.
Heat from her ankle coursed back into her central mass; it became as cold as a glacier, as the temperature of the rug began to drop drastically, its heat being sapped into Pinkerton. Soon enough, it would begin dropping, inching towards 50 degrees, then 40 degrees, then 30. Even then, it didn't stop. The temperature of the object would continue dropping until it would, eventually, freeze over completely. This was Weezer's Flash-Freeze technique, exploiting its near-limitless heat absorption powers to turn anything Pinkerton touched into solid ice.
If that were to succeed, Pinkerton would quickly attempt to kick the rug until it shatters, only then dropping down and entering the living room.