Deel

Inside, Mammoth was almost insensible, but not quite. His senses brought him news that was dutifully filed in his memory, but he wasn’t truly conscious. What little awareness he had was focused on that inner voice, yammering at him in the Hrnau language… …get up. You aren’t that badly hurt. You must act! They will not wait for you! He shook his head almost contemplatively, then harder, and pushed himself to a crouch, focusing his attention on the cybernetic girl. How rude, he thought, then began to think of whether he should throw the table back or … No. Coming to grips would be better. Someone was outside, probably needing help. If the one inside could be stopped… he didn’t yet know the word sortie, but that was on his mind. Now if he could just communicate that to his allies. Now if only he could get a running start…

For those first few moments, Mammoth had a clear idea that they were under attack. The people at the door weren't familiar to him, and although he couldn't follow the speedsters' movements his instincts told him that anyone who looked that satisfied at someone else's distress was probably involved. He guessed the bandaged snake-throwing person wasn't really hurt, but the snake itself seemed to catch his attention more than it might have. Unbeknownst to anyone but a telepath, a mental voice whispered in his mind do not be deceived. The one you didn't see move is still the greatest threat. Go, boy, use your speed carefully... Whether that mental counsel was ally or not, the effect was a drastic distraction - Mammoth was utterly unprepared when the table hit him. He took the brunt of the impact with his shoulder, but enough of it bounced off his skull to ring his chimes thoroughly for some moments...

Aaand just like that, Mammoth's down. 1d20+13=18 So discussion of actions is kind of academic. He's stunned for a round. Nuts.

Mammoth Kick Off!;A Little Party Never Killed Nobody Edge Of The World

Throughout the travelling time, Mammoth had managed his restricted movements by the simple compensation of peppering everyone else with questions – to be fair, he did actually seem to be listening to the answers – and reading his schoolbooks. He ate one breakfast bar and that was it. So of course when the door to the plane was opened, he rocket-slithered outside and bounded straight into the field, looking like he might be about to dash off into the wilderness. Only the appearance of Miss Arya stopped him as he attended to her introduction, then rejoined, unnecessarily, “Hello! I’m Mammoth! We’re your explorationists! I love suffixes!” He follows dutifully inside, but it is clear that he is restraining himself from running off. Hard to say where he would go, but his eyes drift either northward or southward. Klara might recognize a whispered phrase in Hrnau – (“Not two paths, but the third is aloft”) – but anyone else would just hear him chuffing like a humanoid Collie.

Mammoth a bit better than average: http://orokos.com/roll/433037 gives him a 13.

Should we just have one of those 'oodly oodly oodly you're in the antarctic!' posts?

````` Even Mammoth is not utterly insensible to something going that badly wrong. Middle of a set that was in some danger of breaking the dance floor, he stopped and peered around at the people who were collapsing. Walking up to one boy who had fallen near him, he knelt and turned him over onto his back then looked him over carefully, satisfying himself that the collapsee was at least alive. He saw the DJ almost take a header. His first thought was, ‘am I about to go to sleep?’ But he didn’t feel groggy. Then he smelled the air, trying to figure out if there was anything weird or out of place. No dice – humans enjoyed so many strange chemicals it was hard to tell who had brought what to the party. For all he knew, it was just an excess of MSG… He turned to an extremely pale girl in a blue dress that seemed to go with her very skin, who didn’t seem sleepy at all, - he didn't know Cathy's name- and offered, “Is this what punchdrunk means?”

Mammoth was kind of new to the idea of embarrassment. Sasquatch didn’t really have that, at least not in a deep way. He wasn’t quite sure how the chrome-smelling guy had become so disturbed, but he recognized that somehow the bunch of girls were stressing him, and just for fun too. He didn’t wish them ill – some of them were pretty – but this was the kind of thing that needed an answer. He went from eavesdropping mode to fun party animal mode as he kind of slouched in their direction. Carefully picking the girl who had made that ‘someone to dance with’ remark, he deliberately went with caveman syntax and a cookie monster rumble just before the song hit a crescendo – “You make dance partner now?” Then he went nuts. He was in fact very careful not to hit anyone or break things, but his dance style could only be called a Lives-Might-Be-Lost Shuffle. Whirling, flapping, flailing and lunging in random directions rapidly turned the part of the dance floor the group had been standing on into no man’s land. Now that he had rhythm to work with, he could stick with it pretty well and insisted on showing the world.

Hau-Tayoomae – Mammoth – loped off the stage, having done as much credit as he could to the Coasters’ Along Came Jones, flipping neatly from Billy Guy’s melody to Dub Jones’ bass interjections. The imitation, for anyone who had heard the Coasters, was actually pretty good, but there were rhythm problems – without a drum or bass of some kind to keep the beat, the young sasquatch tended to flounder. His bright enthusiasm and huge size managed to keep serious jeering to a minimum, although even he didn’t miss the signs of relief when the DJ offered to take over. He reflected that he was going to have to get other people interested – human music really needed a human touch. He introduced himself to a cluster of people he figured might be classmates, then ambled over to the punch. He thought for a moment of just carrying an entire punchbowl up to the stage, but decided against it. The DJ would have as much as he wanted after the dance. For the moment, Mammoth grabbed a cup, demolished it, grabbed another cup, got it stuck on his knuckle, destroyed it getting off, then verrry carrrefully picked up another cup and dipped it into the punchbowl by way of filling it up. Carrying it with both hands, he headed back up to the stage and set it verrry carrrefully near the DJ. Then he got ready to dance – seriously dance. He knew he could impress someone with some dance music. What he had noticed was that humans jumped all over when they danced. Well, he could jump all over like nobody’s business! He rather hoped the ceiling was load-bearing… just at that moment, he noticed another boy talking to a bunch of girls. Nothing weird about that, but Mammoth could swear that fellow smelled more like metal than animal. Not his business, but minding his own business was one of those things he was going to have to work on. Mammoth stopped and turned to face the DJ, but tuned his hearing to listen to the conversation. For someone with a light step, he was terrible at pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping – he was obviously leaning in the direction of the chromium smell…

Following too, but still not quite sure how it helps over pressing that little button...

Seemingly, the big kid was anticipating a conversational break; the moment he wouldn’t interrupt, he said: “Hello! I’m Mammoth, and you’re Doctor Inari Jefferson! And I’m not backing out; I even brought my own books and breakfast bars. The headmaster and that other one said there might be a city of metamumurans, so I wanted to go. I come from a whole people of memahumans too, but we don’t have cities, but maybe we did once! And I’m not afraid of crazy cold – the squirrel tells me my fur is thick enough! And I’ve flown on a plane before, and it doesn’t scare me too much. But I like running! And dancing. But I know not to dance in an airplane!” His voice is a deep but quiet rush, implying that he is naturally soft-spoken but really wants to get words out. He seems articulate, in a way, but also mispronounces the occasional long word. Almost before this rumble has died down, he turns to Voin-Z. “Hello! I haven’t heard of you before now, but I haven’t heard of a lot of people. They keep telling me lots of people are famous, but then they tell me I should try to read books instead of the little papers where the famous people are. You’re wearing metal! They say some people do that to keep from getting hurt. I hear there are penguins there. Do you think they will try to hurt us?” A split second later, Phantasmal catches his eye. “Hello! That’s a great hood! Is that what you wear to keep warm? I hear humans wear all kinds of things to keep warm, even bubbles! The catbird says you are his – that must mean you can go all kinds of places!” Finally, although he really was the first to arrive, it’s the good Doctor’s turn. “Hello! That’s a great suit, and I really like the bottlecaps on your boots! Or maybe they are attaching things, but they look a little like bottlecaps. You have great eyes! They just kind of sit there in your head, being great! Can you see paths with them? That would be great! I can see paths, but only while I’m on them.” Toward the end of this chattery introduction, Mammoth grabs up his dufflebag and holds it to his chest in a kind of parade-rest ready pose. “We better get going, we have to catch the plane before we can ride it! When I rode in a plane before someone had already caught it before I got there.”

A looming shadow strode into the airport proper, dressed only in the Claremont pants-and-hoodie set – with the unusual addition of sandals to keep from being barred entry. (So many places wanted him to wear shoes, but honestly wasn’t it just easier for him to stomp things flat with his bare feet? It wasn’t as if he bit his toenails in public…) The truly unusual aspect of his entry was how few people took notice of him. Everyone who did was impressed with his height – he was a bigfoot, after all – but most people didn’t, simply because he walked soundlessly and lightly. He looked like he was a normal height. He carried a normal duffle bag and seemed normally self-assured. Hau-Tayoomae focused his attention on the search for Doctor Inari Jefferson. He rather wished he had her scent, but he was getting used to the fact that humans dealt in pictures. He was still a little embarrassed over how long it had taken him to understand that 2-dimensional renderings could form images, but figured he had the concept enough that he could compare a picture to a person. It didn’t take him long to notice two people near the bar, one of whom was a human woman who looked a lot like the picture the headmaster had provided. He carefully positioned himself so that she was between him and the bar – last time he had been in a drinking establishment, the bartender, misunderstanding his age, had contrived to supply him with a Harvey Wallbanger. Mammoth might make the occasional mistake, but he wasn’t likely to make that one again. He didn’t speak aloud, just listened for a bit. Naturally, if the others have any peripheral vision at all, they’ll noticed the gangly and furry boy politely eavesdropping.

I'll nominate Mammoth for Brawl 1. In another Campaign Discussion thread, I've already implied that his band might be providing music (though frankly, it'd be more realistic if he were just there - it's way early in the year for a high school band to be ready to perform) Yeah, it'll work if all Mammoth is doing is clearing the dance floor...

So in Mammoth's HellQ I made a few allusions to the fact that he was singing in a band named Firedream. I just figured that when some of his more musically inclined schoolmates realized that he would do the most awesome monstervoice, they'd find a way to recruit him. So now I'm thinking that if the entire band is super-powered, that would actually turn into a kind of ongoing plot hook. So now I'm wondering if anyone else would be interested in playing members of Claremont's own ... Firedream! A high-school fusion band with metal, jazz, hip-hop and new age influences. But then they are teenagers, influence is almost all they have. Mammoth himself is still acclimatizing to human culture, and his creative contribution will probably be a kitchen sink approach. I'd be interested in hearing anyone else chime in. Someone in chat - Raveled, I think - mentioned that Grimalkins might have an open mic night. I've already been thinking that the Kick Off gathering might be a good place for Firedream to play. And as I implied earlier, this could turn into an ongoing series, like that odd subgenre of cartoon that took over Saturday mornings a quarter century ago that wound up giving us a shark... playing the drums... This could use some more thought. But still, it might be fun, and that's what I'm going for. Anyone interested?