Dr Archeville
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The continuing saga of Evil!Archeville!
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Bluff, bluff, bluff, bluff the Wander! (1d20+10=30) :o
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"N-no! No one else knows," he said slowly, gauging her reaction. He stood, "there was an... incident, some months ago, and I was exposed to various mutagenic agents. Since then, when I suffer a serious shock -- physical or mental, like the sight of that," he waved a taloned hand at the chestpiece, "I shift to this odd atavistic form. I thought I had isolated the factors and removed them, but it seems I-" He turned quickly at the sound of the doorbell; one of the window panels over the sink showed the two plain-clothed figures at his front door. His breathing quickened and hands clenched into fists. "Ah! I-I don't want anyone to see me like this!," he exclaimed, glancing nervously from side to side. "I should have something in my laboratory to cover this, though." He dashed over to one of the wine fridges against the wall, opened it, and flipped a series of buttons on its inner surface, causing two of the fridge to part and revealing a ramp gently sloping down into darkness. "Can you distract them, please? For just a few minutes!"
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Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! OOC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in Archives
They're already married, it's too late for objections :P -
Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! OOC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in Archives
I'm good with it. -
Archeville stared, slack-jawed, at the chestpiece. "That... that cannot-" The Doktor's knees buckled -- he'd fainted! This perhaps surprised Erin, who would be used to heroes being of sterner stuff, but even more surprising was the change that overcame Archeville even as he fell: his skin darkened and roughened into scales, his blonde hair shifted to a vibrant crimson, gill slits opened along his neck, and his hands sprouted webbing and talons! The Fishy!Doktor's eyes, black like a shark's, opened. "What... what happened-," he began, weakly, then stared at his hands in (feigned) horror. "No, not again!" He felt his face, then paused as he appeared to realize Erin was still there. "Nooo!," he whimpered, curling into a ball and (mimicked) sobbing, "I've changed back... it didn't work... I thought I was cured..."
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"A trophy, you say?," Archeville asked. He set the platter down and walked across the room, "from one of Young Freedom's many pan-dimensional adventures, I presume?" He chuckled as he reached to remove the covering, "I have often wondered why younger superhumans, such as your group, and the Atoms, are so frequently drawn into cross-di... men..." Archeville was looking at the breastplate of Omega, Lord of the Terminus. "What?!" The super-scientist looked back and forth between Wander and the piece. "Th... y... i... Explain!"
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"Doktor Archeville is always busy," the mechano-ape blared as it headed down the hallway, "but never too busy for his employees, or his fellow superheroes." They first came to a parlor, with numerous chairs (some with plush cushions, some with slim ones), small tables here and there, an an assortment of periodicals scattered about. A log burned in the fireplace, and windows with the drapes pulled back looked out upon a panoply of scenes, most of which were nowhere near Freedom City. Over the fireplace, and on the wall opposite it, was a matched set of large mirrors. Cabinets in the corners held mysteries -- games, perhaps? Next was the dining room, with a table and high-backed chairs for ten. It was bare, and the two small chandeliers above it were dimmed, but she could tell it would not take much to make this place really pop. Beyond that, coming from the well-lit room beyond the dining room, she could hear someone at work. Looking through the door she saw an expansive and well-lit kitchen, with two stove ranges, three ovens, two refrigerators, and a marble-topped island not far from a large sink by a window looking out onto a pastoral valley (definitely nowhere near Freedom City!). On the opposite side was a smaller breakfast nook, where Doktor Archeville sat, with a platter of sandwiches. "Doktor, your guest has arrived!," the robobutler blared. Archeville cringed, "oh, I am so sorry, Miss White! I had no idea my Kammerdieneraffe's voice was doing that again!" He looked to the robobutler and said something in German, and it trundled off back the way it came. "Ah, again, I am sorry for that. Hungry?," he asked, holding up the platter.
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"I do know many people," Archeville chuckled, "though my tie to the Interceptors is due to the fact my fiance is on the team." "Now, that is not to say I have any real pull with the team," he added, holding a hand up defensively, "nor do I know if they are even looking for new recruits. But I can float the idea by Fulcrum, and see if she will offer you up to the rest for consideration."
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"Not... as such, no," Archeville finally said, breaking the nervous silence. "There was a... miscalculation, on my part, when I failed to anticipate the disruption your innate time-shift field would cause to the scanners. The scanning beam was redirected and, somehow, amplified in such a way that rather than passively scanning your brain, it, well, 'scrambled' parts of your brain. Temporarily!," he quickly added, "and these basic scanners are all showing a return to your regular brinwave levels, with no aftereffects detected. Of course we will continue monitoring, for as long as you desire, to make sure there are no after-effects, and as for the damages you caused in your fugue state, well, since it was my negligence that lead to this, I will make any restitutions..."
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The small path leading from the sidewalk to Archevillle's front door was flanked by gaily-painted garden gnomes, four on each side. Each stood about a foot and a half tall, with blue shirts and red pointy hats. As Erin walked up, she almost thought she saw a pair turn towards her, but when she looked at them they were still as statues. The front windows were all obscured by what appeared to be thick and heavy curtains. As Erin approached, the scans the gnomes had run were being analyzed by the home's computer system, identifying the approaching individual. A chime sounded in the kitchen, and when Archeville extricated himself from the refrigerator, a feed from the front yard cameras were being streamed across one wall. "Ooh, it is Erin! I wonder what brings her here? And whatever is in those bags?" "Ah! Computer, unlock the front door, and send an escort to lead her here!" Moments after she'd touched the doorbell (which sounded an unexpectedly old-fashioned chime), the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Beyond was a nice foyer, well-lit by a golden chandelier. The stained wood panels along the walls lent an air of elegance to the place, while the colorful mandala design in the tile floor hinted at an appreciation for the exotic, the esoteric. Three hallways, left, center and right, branched off from the room, and simple doors between the halls were, she might assume, coat closets. It suddenly hit Erin that this foyer alone should, judging by the outer dimensions of the house, take up at least half the ground floor! One of the closet doors swung open, and out lumbered a silvery gorilla in a butler's suit! A moment's examination revealed that it was in fact a robotic gorilla, and not some sort of mutant. "Good evening!," it said in a blaring, mechanical voice. It pointed towards the left corridor, "your presence is requested in the kitchen. Follow me, please."
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The Rise of Evil!Doktor Archeville begins!
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Date: June 17th, 2011 (Friday), later afternoon/early evening mid-to-high 70s, clear/scattered clouds. 2 days after the full moon. (10 months after an ill-fated housecall, 3 1/2 weeks after the Interceptors' Wedding, 2 weeks after Claremont's Graduation; 1 month before the Gorgon announcement) Earlier in the day, Arrowhawk paid a visit to the Scarab and they compared notes on the strange series of murders and disappearances that had been plaguing Freedom City for the past nine months. Seeking additional help, they headed to the Hanover home of their ally, Doktor Viktor Archeville. But they were not the only ones coming to see Archeville: like Scrooge, the super-scientist was to be visited by three beings this evening. Wander, one of ArcheTech's newest employees, was also coming by. With her was a trophy from a recent battle which she wished to have examined; to know how best to store it, she needed to know if it was safe to be around! (She'd chosen discretion due to not wanting the details of Young Freedom's exploits getting out just yet.) None of them expected who -- or what -- they would wind up meeting that evening. But what was that fabled science-hero up to? At the moment, he was alone in his home, his fiance Fulcrum off training wit the Interceptors, giving him time to do some surgical experimentation. He was carving ham for a sandwich. "The most perfect ham-and-cheese sandwich ever! Now, which mustard to use?" The Doktor rummaged through his tesseract refrigerator (like his home, it was bigger on the inside!), selecting from the dozen or so small yellow and brown jars.
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Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! (IC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in West End
Archeville carefully carried Thrude through the portal, a safe distance from it should it begin flaring up, and knelt by her side, checking the still-unconscious warrior woman and self-professed goddess for the extent of her injuries. "Ah, she already seems to be waking!" Once he was sure Thrude was alright, he turned to face the others. The Interceptors -- they were his family, and had done as much for him as he had for them. And one in particular had made an irrevocable impact on him. "You know, while I am down here," he said, trying to stifle a grin, and turning his Screwdriver on Fulcrum to pull her towards him, "and since it is just us here, for the moment, I see no reason to wait any longer." He set the Screwdriver down, reached into one of his labcoat's interior pockets, and pulled out a small box. "Mona Teymourian, you are my mass per unit volume. I mean, my density. I mean, my destiny. The time we have shared together has been the best 491 days of my life, but if I talked for 491 months I could not express a fraction of the love and respect I have for you. Everyone can see the strong interaction between us -- you are the charm to my strange." He opened the box, revealing a sterling silver ring with one large heart-cut ruby surrounded by a dozen smaller moonstones; the smaller stones emitted a pulse of light, one after another in a clockwise fashion, and going very fast. He looked up to her, "Mona, will you marry me?" -
Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! (IC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in West End
"On it!," Archeville exclaimed, leaping towards the portal, but yanked back a hair's breadth from its horizon by gravitic dampers. His hands dashed back ad forth between his Screwdriver, his Belt, and, a few times, brushed up against the portal itself, as if feeling along its edge. "Just a bit mooooore annnd... got it!" The portal rippled, and the other side could be seen a bit more clearly. A dusty aroma could be smelled, coming off the portal -- air was coming in from Colt's home! Archevle held up his Screwdriver, like a crucifix held up to ward off a vampire, and twin beams of blue-gray light lanced out, unerringly striking Colt and Thrude. "I have got you," he said in a soothing, almost paternal tone as he tractor beamed them back through the gateway, "come on home now." The contents of the small package in Archeville's labcoat pocket pulsed at a maddening beat as all this went on. -
Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! OOC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in Archives
:science: Dok should, based on the uber-scan he already did of Gillman's device, and the 31 he can get on a Skill Mastery-ed Know/Technology check, know about the "two men enter, no men leave" and "immortals don't count" aspects of the portal. (Since Thrude isn't a mortal -- she's got Immunity to aging, starvation/thirst, and full life support -- technically only one mortal has gone through already, so it shouldn't be closing.) Dok's first instinct would be to use a Move Object effect to pull them through, but he knows it's a one-way deal. So instead he'll try stunting something off his Gravitic Movement/Teleport Array (16 points), boosting it with his Screwdriver (up to +14 points, keeping one in reserve for Eidetic Memory so it retains all it scanned from Gillman's device), giving him up to 30 points to work with. Which he'll use to create a microwormhole that 'piggybacks' onto Gillman's portal, guided by the info it copied from Gillman's device, to turn his portal into a two-way portal to Colt's home dimension, and then using a tractor beam to yank them out. Move Object 8 (Str 40; Extra: Range [Perception]; PF: Split Attack) {25} This'll give two Str 20 Move Object effects, which can each haul Colt & Thrude as Medium loads. Super-Movement 1 (Colt's Home Dimension; Extra: Portal 2) {4PP} {25+4=29/30} Free Action: Maintain Enhanced Charisma and Force Field Free Action: Extraordinary Effort to A] stunt stuff off Belt's Movement/Teleport Array and B] gain an extra Standard action Move Action: Readjust Gadgets Move Action: Open Super-Movement Portal Standard Action: Pull those crazy kids home. That work? -
"An excellent question!," the Doktor exclaimed. "Computer, beginnen Diagnosescan!" Dozens of beams of light, in a rainbow of colors, lanced out from the walls and ceiling, mapping out first the external structure of the plane. Simultaneously, radio waves and ultrasonic pulses mapped the interior of the structure, finding all the nicks and cracks and other damages, based on the schematics for the Pegasus spaceplanes Archeville had already uploaded to his systems, which were displayed on a small monitor off to one side of the hangar. The only exit from which was one narrow corridor, leading into darkness. "Well, good news and bad news," Archeville said at last. "Good news is, none of the individual damages are major. Bad news is, there are a multitude of minor damages, which all combine into one major problem. Think of it as like there being thousands of pinhole leaks throughout the entire craft. Fortunately, I have -- well, should have -- everything here needed to fix them, or at least patch them well enough that we will be able to get back to Earth." He flashed an enthusiastic smile, and gave two thumbs up.
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Cosplay Fever: to the tune of Raise Your Glass by P!nk 3KmoKOrKJvk And, a related vid VkHfqIDYiAU
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"Community service is something often overlooked," Archeville said between the finals bites of his potato salad, "due, I believe, to its association with public works done by lowest-bidder contracts or prisoners on work-release. But it need not be so! There are many charitable and youth organizations which do such works -- these rooftop oases are but one example! -- and I am sure you can find no shortage of organizations that can help point you and your metal-manipulating powers to the best use." "As for teams, well," he said between bites of the last of the sauerkraut, "many small teams come and go as small groups of superheroes get together and pool their resources, if you wanted to go a more personalized route with allies with whom you have already worked. As for established teams... well, your age and level of experience would seem to make you a good fit for the Interceptors. I have a good relationship with some of the long-time members so I may be able to see if they would be willing to give you a try-out. If you were interested," he said, smiling.
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Interceptors - They're Finally Getting Married! OOC)
Dr Archeville replied to Heritage's topic in Archives
Quick, someone shine the Dead Head-Signal! -
"I do hope this was an accident," he said, still chuckling at her impromptu Godfather impersonation, "I would much rather attribute this to stupidity rather than to malice. Or to Malice, for that matter." "And, yes, I do know the perils and pitfalls -- and rewards -- a reputation can bring, which is why I am so overcautious, liebchen." He flew close in again and stroked her cheek tenderly, "Your skin may be invulnerable, but your heart is not. Well, technically it is, all your organs are-" He paused, stopping his tangent, "You care about people, and about what they think; you are very empathic, a quality that helps you both in your artwork and your hero-ing. Heroine-ing? Ah, point is, if you do go public, I would want to make sure you are prepared for the negative backlash you may get." "Now, as for whether or not I think you should go public, and become a leader figure for the 'Terminus Children,' I see two most likely ways this would unfold, based on your existing ties to Centurion. One," he held up a finger, "they see that a Child of the Terminus can be as noble and selfless as Centurion, and remain as uncorrupted by its power as he was by his, and laud you for all you have done and the example you set for others. More would rally to you, but more would also rise against you as they seek to embody the ideals of Omega and seek your destruction. Two," he held up a second finger, "they see you tarnishing the legacy of the man killed by the Lord of the Terminus, or as someone trying to play both sides of the field, trying to draw support from Centurion's fans and Omega's nihilistic cultists." "Whatever you end up deciding, though," he lowered his two finger and brushed them over the center of her chest, then opened his hand and laid it over her heart, "I will support you, 100%." He moved forward and gently pressed his lips to her.
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"High aspirations," the Doktor said between bites, "which is wholly appropriate." He grinned, "as for where to begin, well, the recently popular saying of 'think globally, act locally' is a fine place to start. Seek out those in need around you -- not just the immediate threats, the purse-snatchers and bank robbers, but community things as well, reconstruction after disasters both natural and man-made -- yet always be aware of the impact of both your actions and those of our foes on the wider world around you." "Of course, being on a team is often helpful. Have you," he pointed at Ferros with the last bit of his sausage, then popped it into his mouth, "given any thought to joining one?"
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Some time later... Jay Nelson Xavier slowly awoke, finding himself once more with an odd helmet strapped to his head and surrounded by the antiseptic smells of a doctor's laboratory. Drs. Archeville and Rao stood before him, Rao looking off tot he side checking a readout and Archeville tweaking something on the helmet. Behind them was another person, a young man in a long coat who seemed somehow familiar. "Mister Xavier, can you hear me? Can you speak?" Dr. Rao looked over, worry giving way to relief, but turned quickly back to the monitors. "You gave us all quite the scare there for a bit. Do you recall what happened, Mr. Xavier?"
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Archeville did his utmost to be a gracious guest at dinner. He knew these rebels would not have much, so he did not eat too much, but he did not wish to seem rude in shunning their food, so he took care not to take too little. In conversation he tried to be equally guarded. He knew talk of the comforts available to the common man in his Freedom City -- electricity, telephones, automobiles, the internet, reliable food and medicine -- would most likely be things available only to the ultra-wealthy on this world, and maybe not even to them. He suspected talk of the advanced science of his word -- of safe and regular electrical power, and all the comforts/luxuries of home -- may sadden his counterpart when she saw how much they could have but don't (all because of the mad Warlord and those who squashed science before him), yet at the same time hoped that talk of the wonders so common to his time, that made life so much easier than the drudgery his counterpart and her compatriots toiled under, would bring them hope for all the wonders the 'Forbidden Arts' could bring, if only it were allowed to flourish, and so inspire and rally them to oppose the Warlord. His enthusiasm for scientific progress, of course, got the better of him, though he put more of a "this is what you can have!" spin and less a "this is what we have and you don't!" angle. "And because I want you all to share in these advancements, I would very much like to help foster a movement to support for your 'Forbidden Arts,' and your rebellion against this Warlord, in whatever way I can. Though, before we can do that," he glanced once more at Fulcrum, "I request a favor. My beloved's possessions are strewn over a wide area some miles away, back where we were first found. Could arrangements be made to bring them here?"
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Dead Head nodded and stared off a bit longer after Grim appeared next to him, but in time he did turn to see her. "Oh, hey, Grim! Oh, where are mah manner? Grim, this here's," he nodded towards the empty space he'd been staring off into, "Mrs. Rebecca Serxner. Mrs. Serxner, this here's Grim, the gal what helped me save yer bed from them nasty... well, you know." [bg=#000000]Oh, such a thin girl![/bg] "Oh, I's sure she gets enough t'eat, ma'am, it's jes' the moonlight makin' her look that way." [bg=#000000]Hrm. And what's a girl like that doing running around at this time of night, anyway?[/bg] "She's a big girl ma'am," he gave Grim a wink, "and she's only out 'cuz she wants t'help folks, help her people. Surely that's a good thing, right?" Lynn felt a nuzzle at her hand; looking down she aw Mutt fading into view, looking up as any dog hoping for a rub behind the ears would look.