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"We can always switch to another frequency. Just pick one and broadcast on it, and I'll find it. Over." Casey also heard Queenie's response; it made her happy to know her and Sakurako weren't the only ones here! She switched on her GPS beacon and switched on her headlamp, the better to be both visible and track-able. She placed herself direclty behind her friend as the homed in on the tower, ready to offer any support her roomie needed. "Miracle Girl here, too, Queenie. Happy to have a chance to work with you. Over."
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At the time Gear reached out to his old acquaintance, she was at Otto's, a low key Bugtown bar, enjoying a drink with her berth neighbor Sindra One-Oh-Five. Sindra was a third generation Pink, and while it was common knowledge you should never trust a Pink, the young councilor always seemed to end up hanging out with the younger Infil unit. Otto's was a very 'outsider friendly' establishment, fairly dark with the occasional strip of blue biolight to minimize collisions. There were a few private rooms in the back for commercial transactions, but the owner didn't tolerate any 'hanky panky' or 'funny business' in his bar, though he would happily recommend another that did. The two female units were in a well-padded booth not far from the entrance, slowly nursing their drinks as they discussed their plans for the day "Do you work again tonight?" "I work every night." "Is this the massage parlor or the 'sophisticated business class lounge'?" Sindra snorted. "There is absolutely nothing sophisticated about it. And no, tonight is sanitation attendant." She made a disgusted face. Ditra was shocked. "Why in the name of the Great Mother are you working in that slime pit?" The young Pink could only shrug. "Hey, I go where my boss sends me; if he thinks-" Just then, Gear's call came through on her internal com line, the two-tone chime ringing off to her right while the bounty hunter's simian face slowly rotated in the corner of her eye. "Sorry, I need to take this." Cocking her head to the right, Ditra picked up the call. <Ah, so we're 'friends' now, eh, Gear? Nice to know where I stand!> She patiently waited for Gear to make his pitch; she'd hoped her days of handing this sort of thing were behind her, but wasn't it also a councilor's job to keep her constituents safe? When he was done, she finally nodded. <Alright, tell you what; meet me at Otto's, the place right near the tram turnabout? You can buy me a drink and tell me all about it.>
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Nameless District ('Bugtown') Location: Coalition Victory Station, Kesteven 79 After the Nameless were exposed during the Incursion three Terran years ago, the enigmatic cyborgs had to face the reality that no one trusted them, even after several of them aided the fledgling Coalition during the fighting. But it soon became clear that, due to the insidious way they'd wormed their way into the very fabric of the Republic, it would be far easier to come to some sort of terms with them than try to root them out. One of the terms that was negotiated was that the Nameless had to turn over all the illegally obtained goods they'd acquired over the years, including any property held on any Lor worlds. Not every agent did this, of course, or they only turned over some and kept others hidden. But overall, the effect left nearly a thousand sentient creatures effectively homeless. When the Communion mothership was being converted into Coalition Victory Station, it was decided that an area should be set aside for their use, and so a large section was chosen near the waste treatment facilities. It was chosen for two reasons: one, the presence of so much decaying matter created large quantities of methane, the natural atmosphere of the Nameless pilots, and two, no one really liked or trusted the enigmatic creatures, so metaphorically sticking them in the ship's posterior seemed very appropriate. However, the Nameless don't really mind; as a hive species, they have no issues with cramped quarters, and being tucked out of sight and out of mind in a way gave them a lot of freedom. 'Bugtown', as this enclave is often called, is divided between three decks, locally referred to as 'the Market', 'the Lower Berths' and 'the Hives'; each area serves a specific function, and feels very different from the others. The Market is a maze-like area set aside for the Nameless shells to both stretch their legs and interact with other races; it features small nightclubs, restaurants, several legitimate businesses, and tucked away in the darker corners, a few 'specialty shops' with no names that offer illegal services. The Republic officially denounces this 'warren of vice and crime', while its elected officials often come here in secret. The Lower Berths are where the Nameless shells go during their downtime; each agent is provided a small individual berth, not unlike the Japanese capsule hotels, typically 2m x 1.25m x 1m, though the larger Tac shells often require special accommodation. While row upon row of 'cells' might seem confining to most Lor or humans, the Nameless do not find them so, especially since they spend most of their time in their berths either recharging in rest cycle or connecting with each other via telepathy or ShellNet, a powerful, private wireless network. Storage space for changes of clothing is provided in each berth, while shell cleaning and maintenance are done in large public sanitary stations. The Hives are kept far from the sight of other races; it is here that the Nameless pilots may come out of their shells to mingle freely among their hivemates in large, deep chambers full of methane gas. There are three sets of chambers here, but one currently goes unused, because the Third Hive went into hiding after the Nameless were exposed during the Incursion, though it still awaits them if they ever chose to claim it. The Tertians and their queen are currently in parts unknown somewhere within the Republic, posing a constant threat. The Hives are also used for reproduction and the rearing of the young prior to them receiving their first shell. The two queens who are currently in residence are under constant monitoring and protection for their own safety. Note: Nameless shells are not produced anywhere on CoVic Station; they are assembled at a remote facility somewhere in Lor space, the location of which is one of the most tightly guarded secrets in the galaxy.
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Draft: CoVic Station Nameless District (Bugtown)
Heritage replied to Heritage's topic in The Lighthouse: Catchphrase!
Glad you like it! I wasn't sure if I needed approval to make this canon, but I'll take your vote of confidence as a sign to go and post it. (I caught a few spelling errors and mistakes and fixed those, too.) -
Draft: CoVic Station Nameless District (Bugtown)
Heritage replied to Heritage's topic in The Lighthouse: Catchphrase!
(This is essentially completed, but more may be added over time.) -
Nameless District ('Bugtown') Location: Coalition Victory Station, Kesteven 79 After the Nameless were exposed during the Incursion three Terran years ago, the enigmatic cyborgs had to face the reality that no one trusted them, even after several of them aided the fledgling Coalition during the fighting. But it soon became clear that, due to the insidious way they'd wormed their way into the very fabric of the Republic, it would be far easier to come to some sort of terms than to root them out. One of the terms that were negotiated was that they had to turn over all the illegally obtained goods they'd acquired over the years, including any property held on any Lor worlds. Not every agent did this, of course, or they only turned over some and kept others hidden. But overall, the effect left nearly a thousand sentient creatures effectively homeless. When the Communion mothership was being converted into Coalition Victory Station, it was decided that an area should be set aside for their use, and a large section was chosen near the waste treatment facilities. It was chosen for two reasons: one, the presence of so much decaying matter created large quantities of methane, the natural atmosphere of the Nameless pilots, and two, no one really liked or trusted the enigmatic creatures, so metaphorically sticking them in the ship's posterior seemed very appropriate. However, the Nameless don't really mind; as a hive species, they have no issues with cramped quarters, and being tucked out of sight and out of mind in a way gave them a lot of freedom. Bugtown is divided between three decks, locally referred to as the Market, the Lower Berths and the Hives; each area serves a specific function, and feels very different from each other. The Market is a maze-like area set aside for the Nameless shells to both stretch their legs and interact with other races; it features small nightclubs, restaurants, and tucked away in the darker corners, a few 'specialty shops' with no names that offer illegal services. The Republic officially denounces this 'warren of vice and crime', while its elected officials often come here in secret. The Lower Berths are where the Nameless shells go during their downtime; each agent is provided a small individual berth, not unlike the Japanese capsule hotels, typically 2.5m x 1.5m x 1.5m, though the larger Tac shells often require special accommodation. While rows and rows of 'cells' might seem confining to most Lor or humans, the Nameless do not find them so, especially since they spend most of their time in their berths either recharging in rest cycle or connecting with each other via telepathy or ShellNet, a powerful, private wireless network. Storage space for changes of clothing is provided in each berth, while shell cleaning and maintenance are done in large public sanitary stations. The Hives are kept far from the sight of other races; it is here that the Nameless pilots may come out of their shells to mingle freely among their hivemates in large, deep chambers full of methane gas. There are three sets of chambers here, but one currently goes unused, because the Third Hive went into hiding after the Nameless were exposed during the Incursion, though it still awaits them if they ever chose to claim it. The Tertians and their queen are currently in parts unknown somewhere within the Republic, posing a constant threat. The Hives are also used for reproduction and the rearing of the young prior to them receiving their first shell. The two queens who are currently in residence are under constant monitoring and protection for their own safety. Note: Nameless shells are not produced anywhere on CoVic Station; they are assembled at a remote facility somewhere in Lor space, the location of which is one of the most tightly guarded secrets in the galaxy.
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Test
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From the album: Heritage's album
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"Hi, nice to meet you, Annie," said Casey with a warm smile as she returned the handshake, and wow was she strong! It wasn't just muscle mass, though you could feel that pretty clearly; it was more like a surge of power you could feel just beneath her skin, kind of like if you laid your hand on the hood of a sports car while it was idling. She made a cringey face and shifted her feet a bit. "I've got to admit, I'm kind of nervous about this; I mean, I have a pilot's license, but everyone says that driving a car is much harder, which kind of blows my mind. You have to be aware of every other driver on the road!"
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pc Ditra Fifty-Five (PL10/12) - Heritage
Heritage replied to Heritage's topic in Archived Characters
Okay, made her PL9 and added the Knockback; thanks for that!- 7 replies
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pc Ditra Fifty-Five (PL10/12) - Heritage
Heritage replied to Heritage's topic in Archived Characters
Overall: I agree she is a bit below caps, but it was a very tight build, and I want to start building her up; if that means I should start her as a PL9, I'm willing to do that. Combat: I can never remember hows to calculate Knockback, because that section of the rules always confuses the hell out of me; if you can explain how to figure it out, I will do so right now. Saves: I think that's residual from Miracle Girl's sheet, which I copy and pasted for formatting purposes; I will fix it now. Powers: Yep, my mistakes; will fix both of those now. EDIT: Okay, I think I fixed everything but the Knockback. Also I l realized that if I dropped her down to PL9, I lose 15PP. Can I just keep her under caps for a month? One month's PP will allow me to push her up to Pl10- 7 replies
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"Uh, still a lot slower than that," a noticeably impressed Casey had said before they took to the air. And know that they were in the thick of it, she wished she could fly even faster; the winds were truly brutal, not to mention the sheets of rains. Why oh why hadn't she thought to grab some goggles, for goodness' sake? Hopefully she could get some at some point. Thankfully the blonde heroine had a work-around for the wind noise, as she pitched her voice at exactly 121.5 megaHertz, the frequency for International Air Distress, which her friend should be able to pick up on her suit's coms. "Enderavor, this is Miracle Girl, do you read me? Over."
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"This is so weird," Casey said as she read the notes, shaking her head. "How could anything still be alive in something like that? Not just the lack of air, water and food, but the pressure!" When her mentor mention the tiny tracks, she nodded. "Yeah, I can see them, too; in fact, I might be able to track their path across the carpeting. Those little claws must be sharp." Zooming in on the carpeting with her eyes almost made the blonde heroine feel like she was flying low over a sea of reeds, the tell-tale slashes like the broken stalks of cattails near a marsh.
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Any rolls i can make for either Lynn or Gretch?
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"Regime changes can be very weird and scary things," Lynn murmured as she matched Sam's stride, somewhat easier to do with her current added height. "You give a man power, there's no way of knowing what he'll do with it. You may not even recognize the man you once knew." The whole time, the changeling was doing her best to memorize faces and gestures she might have to borrow later, taking particular note of anyone in her weight class. She was also looking for possible escape routes, especially any windows that looked over any rooftops or courtyards. For her part, Gretchen was trying to get a handle on the local tech level, including the age and state of any wiring, lighting and visible security equipment; she might have to rig something on the fly, and liked to have at least some idea of what she had to work with here. -You know we're going to have to shoot our way out of here at some point.- -Definitely getting that vibe, yeah.- -For the record, l like Sam well enough, but if I have to choose between you and him- -I know.- -He's the one who brought us into this death trap.- -I know. But also remember I was dumb enough to agree to it.- -I am painfully aware of that fact.-
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"I could use a good stiff drink, to be honest; preferably something in the margarita family," said Lynn in all seriousness; the thought of a doppelganger interacting with her girlfriend made her sick to her stomach, and she needed strong medicine to drive that away. Looking around the room, she saw a diversity of talent, including a few heavy hitters; that was good. "Also can we see some maps of the region where they're operating, preferably hard copies on paper? Some of us are a little old fashioned."
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Brought back to reality by the curious party guests, Whispers made a show of shaking her head, as though to clear away imaginary cobwebs, and then nodded vigorously. She took a seat, folding her legs in such a way that she seemed to be sitting on an invisible chair, chin resting in her palm like a parody of Rodan's Thinker, fingers drumming on her cheek in deep thought. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she leaped into the air, arms and legs flung wide before she landed with a barrel roll next to her facepainting bag and pulled out a plastic bag filled with brightly-colored balloons. She fished out a nice long sky blue one, filled it very theatrically, and then twisted it into a graceful magic wand with a star on the end. She shrugged and held it out to the nearest child. Meanwhile Bubbles continued to act in a very un-clownlike manner as she chatted with the birthday girl's older sister (?). "So you're into music? I was rocking out with the ukelele earlier. What do you play?"
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THE NAMELESS (aka ‘Bugs’) The Nameless are a bioengineered race that was designed for infiltrating galactic empires and systems such as the Lor Republic; they were modified so long ago, they barely remember their homeworld, though they do tell the story of how they turned on the race that created them (known only in legends as ‘the Harvesters’) to win their freedom. The Nameless successfully lived within the Republic for almost two hundred years, slowly plotting and accumulating wealth and power before they were discovered, but by that time, though their numbers were small, they held powerful positions throughout all layers of society, and a purge might be catastrophic. So an uneasy peace was negotiated, with all known Nameless agents relinquishing their holdings and revealing themselves to the Republic. Though they will never be fully trusted, the Nameless have since proven themselves to be loyal and hardworking…at least as long as someone is watching. And of course, not every agent revealed their identity. A Nameless agent consists of two parts, a ‘pilot’ and a ‘shell’. The pilot is a dark chitinous creature like a centipede as thick and as long as a human arm, with a long venomous spike for a tail; they were originally a hive species come from a high gravity planet and breathe methane, as well as requiring trace amounts of various toxic elements to survive. The pilot coils it up in the belly of a robotic humanoid shell that is physically indistinguishable from a Lor or other humanoid race (depending on the model), with a head full of cloned brain matter to help translate its alien thoughts into understandable speech and behavior; the shell also boosts the pilot's natural telepathic abilities. In addition to allowing the bugs to survive in a terrestrial atmosphere, the shells often contain hidden weapons or communication devices useful for their work. Among humanoids, a Nameless agent will eat regular food, which is allowed to decompose in a special internal chamber, providing the methane they need to survive; however the shell is also used to intake a bewildering variety of substances for trace elements, so it's not uncommon for a bug to be seen eating eggshells, old batteries or lint. This bizarre diet has been the source of much interspecies humor, not all of it polite. It should also be noted that a pilot can abandon its shell for another by climbing up the throat and entering the mouth of another shell; few outside of the Nameless have seen this disturbing Cronenbergian phenomena, and it is not a sight soon forgotten. It is also therefore possible for a pilot to use another's shell, in essence hijacking it; since most elements of the created humanoid personality are housed in the shell's brain matter, it can theoretically be very hard to tell who's really who when addressing a shell. Predatory creatures before the development of the shell technology, the Nameless still show much of their biological legacy; though they've developed a great deal of affection for the humanoids they've lived amongst for all these years, they still enjoy toying with them like a cat with a mouse, or pulling the wool over a rube's eyes. These tendencies have not gone unnoticed, and prejudice against the ‘bugs’ is very common among intelligent species. WHY ARE THEY CALLED THE NAMELESS? In part, it's because as a race, they have a flair for the theatrical, but much of it comes from their being a telepathic hive species. The Nameless had no name for themselves and no spoken language prior to the genetic manipulation by the Harvesters, and little concept of individual identity; each 'pilot' is only identified by a memory, the earliest mental contact they had with another sentient being that is almost impossible to translate to non-telepaths. When dealing with humanoids, it's just easier to just use the designation given to the individual shells; each model has one of a handful of names (Ditra, Zandar, etc) followed by an individual serial number from 001 to 999. THE FOUR NAMELESS SHELL TEMPLATES The Astrogators (Blue-skinned, 'Astros', 'Blues') - Masters of astrogation, technology and mathematics, Astros are hard to get to know; some humanoids genuinely dislike these seemingly cold individuals, who display behavior similar to humans at the far end of the autism scale. Not all use their skills for piloting, however; many are researchers, technicians and designers without peer. Astros rarely interact with the general public. The Diplomats (Green-skinned, 'Diplos', 'Greens') - Outgoing, friendly and universally attractive, just about everyone likes hanging out with Diplos; skilled in a wide variety of social sciences and experts at reading body language, these agents always seem to know the right thing to say. They can also change their hair, skin and eye colors to better fit in with other humanoid races. While they make excellent spokespersons and negotiators, many Diplos are wonderful doctors, therapists and writers. The Infiltrators (Pink-skinned, 'Infils', 'Pinks') - Shapeshifters and true masters of telepathy, Infils are what most people think of when they hear the term 'Nameless'; manipulative spies with changeable bodies moving effortlessly through the Lor population. Though their skills would seem tailor made for security and espionage, many Infils can also be found in the visual and performing arts, though rarely openly. The Tacticals (Gold-skinned, 'Tacs', 'Golds') - Huge and menacing, Tacs are the front-line warriors of the Nameless; built for strength and durability, most Tacs incorporate extensive internal weapon systems, and can frequently fly, shoot death rays from their hands and genuinely kick serious ass. However few of these giants are actually as fierce as they first appear, and their humble demeanor is a source of calm on the battlefield, though they also patiently toil in low-g factories and on hydroponic farms. NAMELESS HIVES To the Nameless, your hive is your family, a source of strength through belonging. As a telepathic species, they can connect in ways many other races can't, forming mental networks when in close proximity; these networks allow for the rapid sharing of information, ideas and feelings, and a powerful sense of connection. Hive mates look out for one another, to the point that refusing to aid one in need is a crime punishable by the mandatory destruction of a pilot's shell. However rivalries between hives are common, and they tend to methodical, Byzantine and very nasty. At one time, membership in a Nameless hive was purely a matter of biology; a pilot remained in the hive of its birth. But with the loss of most of two hives during the Incursion, including the deaths of both queens, there was a great deal of disorganization and realignment, with the remaining three hives absorbing the orphaned pilots. In time, the three hives began to take on a more symbolic and ideological function, with each associated with a particular moral and political philosophy, primarily based on how they chose to interact with outsiders. This led to a great numbers of members switching hives, until now they are more or less uniform in outlook, though of course every family has its black sheep. THE THREE HIVES The First Hive is the most conservative, and its members were the first to reveal their identities, turn over their possessions and swear allegence to the Republic; most of its members are currently Astro and Tac models, with a few Diplos and only a handful of Infils. They are very loyal and hardworking, and see members of the Second Hive to be either lazy or naive, and the Third to be dangerous radicals who thoughtlessly jeopardize the life they fought for in the Republic. The Second Hive is more moderate, typically looking to follow the 'middle path'; they appreciate the Republic, but see the Coalition as offering a very appealing alternative. They include a fairly even distribution of models, but somewhat fewer Tacs and Infils. While they politely disagree with the First Hive, they can still treat them respectfully, but they consider the Tertians to be a major threat to the all sentient life, and actively oppose them. The Third Hive is by far the most radical, convinced that the Lor will never fully trust them, so they'd best prepare for war or make themselves rich, depending on how idealistic or cynical they are in their philosophy. Thankfully the smallest hive, it has almost no Diplos, a handful of unbalanced Astros, a solid corps of Tacs and a lot of Infils. They see First Hivers as pathetic 'Uncle Toms', and members of the Second as cowards too scared to fight for their own race. Members of this hive are sometimes refered to as 'Tertians', or more dramatically 'the Tertian threat'.
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Notice for MG: 1d20+14=34
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Went ahead and submitted her for approvals.
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Player Name: Heritage Name: Ditra Fifty-Five Power Level: 10/12 (165/185PP) Tradeoffs: +2 Toughness/-2 Defense Unspent PP: 20 In Brief: Alien cyborg with telepathic and technopathic powers Alternate Identity: Councillor Ditra Fifty-Five, diploditra055 (Nameless designation) Identity: Public Birthplace: Somewhere in Lor space Occupation: Diplomat, politician Base of Operations: CoVic Station Affiliations: The Second Hive, the Coalition Family: Hundreds of hive mates Description: Age: 10 Terran years since final assembly Apparent Age: 25 Gender: Female shell Race: Nameless agent (Diplomatic model) Height: 170 cm Weight: 55 kg Eyes: Black Hair: Green Skin: Green Ditra is a very pretty Nameless agent of the Diplo class, marked by green skin and curly, dark green hair. Due to the nature of her robotic body, she has few physical needs, so she tends to dress in simple yet flattering jumpsuits in gray, white or black, which offer little protection from hostile environments or attacks. She does own an older EVA suit that she keeps in her luggage in case of emergency. History: Ditra is a Nameless agent, one of hundreds chosen to serve her race's long-term plan to infiltrate and overthrow the Republic from the inside. But the Fifty Year Plan, which had somehow not been completed in nearly two hundred years, quickly became obsolete once the first agents were exposed in the early stages of the Communion Incursion three Terran years ago. Like the rest of her race, Ditra had to adapt to a radical new situation, and she was as surprised as anyone else to find herself fighting alongside the 'marks' in what would come to be called the Coalition. But she has always liked the Lor, and never specifically wished them any ill will, so maybe it should have been less of a shock. She served with distinction throughout the conflict, even receiving the grudging respect of members of other races. With the fighting over, Ditra registered herself along with the other more or less law-abiding agents, and looked into finding some sort of gainful employment on CoVic Station; she did a number of odd jobs, including security, labor negotiations and working in the various markets throughout the station. One day she was approached by members of her hive about possibly serving on the Coalition council as a representative for the Nameless; they pointed out that she was a popular agent, and her distinguished war service meant that she was already known outside the hive. After much consideration, she agreed to having her designation placed on the ballot, and was shocked to find that she'd won the election by a significant number; she now suspects there was some sort of tampering that guaranteed her victory. Despite (or perhaps because) of the way she came to her position, she takes it very seriously, and she sincerely wants what's best for her people, even though no one can agree on what that truly is right now. Personality & Motivation: Ditra Fifty-Five was, like all Diplomatic units, designed, bred, cloned, assembled, trained and programmed specifically to be likable, helpful and attractive to the Lor. Yet even if one knows this, it's hard not to like her; she's pretty, warm and charming, and genuinely wants to serve both her race and the Coalition as a whole. She's very much aware of how most races see her kind, and will freely acknowledge their concerns; she knows that she will have to work very hard to earn anyone's trust, and that even then, a single careless word or action can bring it all crashing down. But all is not so serious for this young sentient; she is very curious and loves to learn things, and finds other races and people to be fascinating. She also loves playing the elaborate, massive multiplayer videogames her people design, and spends much of her free time in highly competitive gameplay Powers & Tactics: In terms of offense, Ditra really only has one weapon: the powerful blaster built into her right forearm. But to think this is all she brings to the table is to sell her short; her communication capabilities are considerable, and her databanks hold a tremendous amount of information, which make her an ideal investigator, interrogator or negotiator. Complications: The Nameless Peril: Ditra is a member of one of the least trusted races in the galaxy, and is frequently the subject of considerable prejudice. A Bit of a Snoop: Ditra is both naturally curious and a telepath; she may have a hard time resisting peeking into someone's mind, even if they're a friend. For Love of the Game: Like many Nameless agents, Ditra is a bit of a videogame addict, and may be distracted from time to time by gameplay in her head. Domo Arigato, Mistress Roboto: Though her body contains several biological components, it is still mostly robotic, and thus is susceptible to powers or devices that affect technology. Horrible, Horrible Freedom!: If her centipede-like pilot is ever pulled out of her shell, Ditra would be terribly exposed. A Sense of Duty: As an elected councillor of the Coalition, Ditra takes her duties very seriously, which may lead to moral conflicts over where her loyalties lie. My Resources Are Not Infinite: Though her shell is largely self-contained and can maintain itself for days in the harshest environments, Ditra does still need to occasionally ingest organic material, trace elements and radioactive isotopes from time to time. Too long without these substances will cause her to shutdown or even die. Abilities: 0 + 6 + 0 + 10 + 4 + 8 = 28PP Strength: 10 (+0) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Constitution: 10 (+0) Intelligence: 20 (+5) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 18 (+4) Combat: 16 + 12 = 28PP Initiative: +3 Attack: 6, Melee +6, Ranged +6, Unarmed +6, Blaster +12 Grapple: +16 (+10 Str, Attack 6) Defense: 8 (+8 Defense), 4 Flat-footed Knockback: -5 (-3 Flat-Footed) Saving Throws: 0 + 8 + 5 + 8 = 21PP Toughness: +12 (+0 Con, +4 Defensive Roll, +8 Protection) Fortitude +8 (+2 Con, +8) Reflex +8 (+3 Dex, +5) Will +10 (+2 Wis, +8) Skills: 64R = 16PP (*Skill Mastery) Bluff 6 (+10)* Computers 5 (+10) Diplomacy 11 (+15)* Disguise 4 (+8, +28 Morph) Gather Information 6 (+10)* Knowledge (Behavioral Sciences) 5 (+10) Knowledge (Civics) 5 (+10) Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 5 (+10) Notice 3 (+5) Perform (Oratory) 6 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10)* Feats: 7PP Benefit: Coalition Councillor Defensive Roll 2 Eidetic Memory Jack of All Trades Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Gather Information, Sense Motive) Well-Informed Equipment: 0PP Surplus EVA suit (free) Powers: 30 + 15 + 4 + 19 = 68PP Modified Diplomatic Shell [30PP] • Comprehend 3 (Read, Speak and Understand any Sapient language) [6PP] • Features 3 (Internal Compartment, Internal Computer, Iron Stomach) [3PP] • Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9PP] • Morph 4 (Humanoids, Flaw: Limited to Females) [4PP] • Protection 8 [8PP] Communications Package (ComPac) [15PP] • Base Power: Mental Communication 5 (Extra: Area, Feats: Selective, Subtle) [12PP] AP: Datalink 5 (Radio-based, Feats: Subtle 2) + Quickness 10 (Limited: One Type [Mental], x2,500) [1PP] AP: Mind Reading 10 (Feat: Subtle 2) [1PP] AP: Radio Communication 5 (Extra: Area, Feats: Selective, Subtle) [1PP] Sensory Package (SensPac) [4PP] • Super-Senses 4 (Infravision, Psionic Awareness, Radio) [4PP] Tactical Package (TacPac) [19PP] • Blast 8 (Feat: Accurate 3) [19PP] Drawbacks: (-3) = -3PP Weakness (Requires Radioactive Materials, Frequency: Common, Intensity: Moderate [cumulative -1 penalty on all checks, attack rolls and Defense]) [-3PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Blaster Ranged DC 23 Tough Damage Mind Reading Perception DC 20 Will Read Surface Thoughts Abilities 28 + Combat 28 + Saving Throws 21 + Skills 16 + Feats 7 + Powers 68 - Drawbacks 3 = 165 /185 Power Points
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And there's the fluff!
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"The bookstore is going great, but I could use some help in the muffin department," she admitted ruefully. "Initially, I was doing all the baking myself, which I know was stupid, but I was too proud. Then I hired a kosher bakery in the West End, but we started to get busy, and they had a hard time meeting demand." At the suggestion of free smoothies, the young bookseller's smile was a marvel to behold, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat. "Really? Oh, that's awesome, thanks!" Heading over to the offered table, Lynn continued. "So yeah, I'm in the market for another supplier; it doesn't have to be kosher, at least not now that we're past Passover, but we do have a lot of Jews in the neighborhood who like the traditional stuff. I'll probably still use Katz's for some things." Thr elfin beauty turned to look between Maybelle and Jaden. "I'd be happy to try both of your wares, to be honest; maybe send you both some business?" Curiously, despite all her eager smelling and talk about baking, Lynn had yet to try any of her challah...
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Had no idea how fast Endeavor's suit makes her; even if her edit goes through, Casey is still only half her friend's speed! Guess Saku will just have to carry her to the Caribbean
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A tall pretty blonde soon joined them; she wore a pair of Nikes, gray sweats and a blue and gold Claremont hoodie. Her hair was up and a pair of black plastic-framed glasses perched on her nose. "Hi, I'm Casey," she said as much to Annie as she did to their instructor; always with the new faces here! "No one said anything about reading, but I'd be happy to catch up; I read pretty fast." She'd meant to do this years ago, but was happy to ger to it better late than never.