Reroll

We all feed our pets… we're outnumbered at this point: Betty has her Paladin mount (when summoned), Betty and Ed both have Wild Cohorts, Ed and I both have Animal Companions, and I have my Eidolon (currently unsummoned)... but when I possess my Animal Companion, we'll have just three creatures to manage.  We'll, until I release my Animal Companion, anyway.

For now, though… I use Life Bubble on all of us (air, pressure, and “normal” high and low temperatures handled for the next eight days, courtesy of Starfinder), Betty suppresses all of our magical auras, and grants us all some nice Stealth bonuses via the Suppression talent… and with Selective Illusions, we can even all see and hear each other just fine.  

I load all of the pets (other than the one I'm using as a body) into the carriers (Ed doesn't need to shrink them down, because the ones I bought are sized for the animals we have), and I stow them all in my Warp Storage. They're fed, so they'll be good for a day.

Betty hits my car, too, making it look like an unremarkable white sedan, and we all climb in… after I find the switch in the rig that lets the inner handles of the rear doors actually work.  I also roll down the barrier between sections.  A few instructions to the Autopilot, and we're on our way.

Betty recovers her spent spell points as we go, and we all chat.

“So what prompted the first hospital visit?” Ed begins.

I shrug, “I felt bad about all the killing.”

Betty considers, “What, the Guardians? We've since found out they're not even really people.”

I shake my head, “Nah. The gangbangers.”

Ed actually laughs at me, “What?  Them?  They were planning on robbing, raping, and killing us… not necessarily in that order.  We even waited for them to make the first move,” he faces Betty for the last bit, “at your insistence.”

“They even shot first,” Betty adds, looking at me, “You were even their first target, for that matter.”

“Yeah, I know,” I shrug, “Intellectually, they had it coming, and if we hadn't punched their timecards they would have made victims of us or others at some point.” I shake my head, “Logically, I know this.  But they were still people with friends and  family, thoughts and dreams… who died screaming at our hands.  It was self defense, clearly and unequivocally. Logically and legally, we were in the right… well, other than running away from the scene… but I still felt bad.”

“So you wanted to ‘give something back’,” Betty nods, “To ‘balance the scales’ or some such?”

I shake my head, “Doesn't work that way. A surgeon that saves a dozen lives every month doing volunteer work for people who can't pay, even covering all the associated bay and medical supply costs himself, for decades, still doesn't have license to commit even a single murder. There is no balancing.” I sigh, “I just wanted to feel a little better about myself, is all.” And no, I don't feel anything about the controller I popped a grenade on. That rat deserved it for participating in Bambi's long-term torture.  Feelings aren't logical: I have accepted this.

Ed hums, “Well… whatever the motivation, that action is probably our best bet for a long term solution to the Inquisition.  Let's let your ‘angel’ be seen constantly this time, eh?”

I nod, “Kind of why I picked the form of my Eidolon.  A white feathered winged biped screams ‘Angel’ for most people… and the glowing forehead symbol will probably help with that, if anything.”

Betty nods, “Ah… so how do we want to play the full details when we arrive?”

I shrug, “I figured I'd summon my Eidolon, we'd let all the ‘pets’ out, and we’d all systematically go through the hospital while I do the healing. You keep everyone's eyes off us, and…” I turn to Ed, “You're on lookout duty.  Anything attacks us, we run.  We don't want to be seen as the bad guys, after all.”

Betty considers, “We should probably keep the animals in storage for now; even with the boosts they won't be great at sneaking, they'll leave a trail, and… well, they're easy to panic.”

Ed nods, “The plan is to retreat if there's an issue anyway.  Makes sense.”

As we pull up to the children's hospital, I consent, “Sounds like a plan.  Let's do this….”

We climb out, I lock the Cruiser, Betty renews the illusions and recharges herself as I release my Animal Companion (which is intelligent thanks to Hedgewitch; I leave her guarding the vehicle), summon my Synthesist Eidolon onto me to have a physical body, and once that's done… off we go.

My Eidolon turned out nicely: White feathered wings, long white hair, a flowing white robe, and of course, the glowing forehead symbol, which is in gold.

Side note: Selective Invisibility on all senses is FUN.  I can see and hear Ed and Betty while nobody else can.  I mean, I personally am fully invisible naturally thanks to my racial choice, but that doesn't cover sound… Betty’s powers do.  My meatsuit lets me be seen, though, which I want right now.

Of course, the “Visible Angel” approach runs into complications right off the bat.

“Hold it,” a security guard, quite trim, holds up a hand while we're all walking into the main entryway, which is done up in marble with a fifteen foot ceiling.

“I am tasked with healing.  There are limits to my authorization, but I can resolve most ailments quickly,” I inform him, “Please allow me to complete my mission.”

“Ah, look, lady, a costume doesn't….” he trails off, as I jump up, catch the air in my wings, and hover there five feet off the ground.

“This is not a costume.  This is, simply, me,” I lie to him as I fly over his head, and land on the other side, “I am willing to demonstrate my healing; healing is, after all, why I am here.”  I raise his head and voice, “Do we have any volunteers to be healed?”

“Ah… look…” the security guard begins.

He's interrupted by a cute little girl, “Can I be healed?”

She's painfully thin, pale, and bald… the Diagnose talent confirms it: Bone cancer, malignant, and a bunch of ability damage from the cancer treatments. Easy fix, for me.

…and the raised voices have garnered enough attention that there's a good twelve cell phones recording this.  Perfect!

“Of course, child…” I kneel down and put my hand on the girl's cheek, as I apply magic to heal her.

The girl visibly fills out, takes on a better color, and her hair grows back, a nice shade of brunette… I wasn't expecting that last one, but I guess it goes with fixing the Charisma damage.

Her eyes go really wide and she takes a deep breath as she gives me a hug, “Thank you!”

“You're welcome… go, have the doctors confirm you're okay now,” I pat the girl on the head, “I have more work to do….”

“Yes angel!” the little girl runs off, shouting “Mommy! Daddy! I saw an angel….”

The crowd let's her go… and I am immediately swarmed.  Mostly with people who are actually sick and desperate, but also people asking questions. The questions are all “What are you?”, “Where did you come from?”, “Does this mean <X> is real?” (apparently there's a lot of different flavors of theists nearby) and similar.

Questions are, fortunately, all subject to the same blanket answer, “My time here is limited. My priority is healing the dying. Your questions do not trump their lives.”

The people asking don't LIKE it, but with very, very visible results, few argue, and those that do get ripped away (in one instance, violently) by parents who want their children to live.  But that's okay.

I fix his broken collarbone: RPG healing magic is great at basic trauma.

The hospital staff adapt, and soon there's an organized line of all the people who want healing… that soon wraps around the building, as people in line are calling other people they know who are seriously ill, and everyone of those who believe it rushes in.  The hospital staff form a second line of admitted patients that they bring by in wheelchairs… this was all much more time efficient when nobody knew what was happening and I could just go from one person to the next… oh well.

Eventually, the expected happens: A six foot tall man with dark sunglasses, dressed in rags, weighing at least three hundred pounds with hardly an ounce of fat on him smashes through the front door, pointing a veritable handheld cannon at me.

The Guardian screams, “Yasgu is the only one!” and opens fire.

These things have REALLY good aim, or insane luck.  He fires three shots… which hit: Left eye, heart, and right eye - in that order.  And oh, does that HURT.  Synthesist Summoner's get to keep all of their racial abilities when merged… so I still have my deflection bonus, which is considerable… but I suppose firearms target touch AC, and that's a bit lower than my main ac… especially as armor doesn't work with a Synthesist.

My meatsuit vanishes as the hit points run out… ah well, no biggie… and I'm invisible again.

And really, *I* am fine.  Mundane bullets don't hurt me.  Hopefully they don't figure that out soon, because I suspect they can get magic ones.

I hear someone scream in the crowd: “Oh my goodness! He killed the angel!”