Dr Archeville

Slight edit to Wander's vignette (it is on the 31st, not the 1st). And Midnight's Vignette is now up.

October 31st, 2001 (Sunday) As the black spots of the teleport faded, Trevor found himself in a small oasis among the chaos the dead rising vengefully against the living. The stink of death was heavy in the air even through the filter built into his featureless black mask, mixed with the acrid scent of an exploding gas main and the palpable stench of fear. For a moment, the black clad figure hesitated, distracted by a turmoil of emotions that had no place on the battlefield. Self doubt and bitter reproach whispered in his ears, made the escrima sticks feel heavy in his hands. The one of the shambling corpses turned its milky white eye to look at him, and the world through his lenses crystallised into a darker shade of red. His body sprang into action, guided by muscle memory and powered by a cold, articulate rage as he leapt through flame and ash a bring a matte black stick crashing across a brittle skull with devastating effect. A treaded boot forced a second zombie back for the instant it took the dual weapons to come down again with a crack. A handful of small spheres whipped out in a broad arc, igniting with explosive force as they connected with the undead mob as its members toppled in sickening, flaming heaps. Midnight was only peripherally aware of his teammates’ assaults nearby, his attention focused with pinpoint fervour on the next target, when a plaintive cry reached his ears. On the other side of the thickest mass of monsters, a small child huddled against a brick wall, cut off from the rest of the fleeing civilians, eyes wide with terror. The sound drew the zombie’s attention as well, and they began to advance on easy prey. A pressure stud released a three inch long blade from the tip of one escrima stick even as Midnight’s arm whipped forward, sending the spear hurtling through the air to skewer the back of a desiccated, exposed brain. Sprinting forward, he cleared a path with his remaining stick, abandoning it as it stuck in the tar-like visage of a moaning horror. Another handful of incendiary pellets cleared another foot of distance, even as a fallen but still moving creature ripped at the bottom of his jacket with boney digits. Ignoring it, Midnight pressed on through the throng, increasingly aware of his deadly race with each step. Obsidian and blood red eyes narrowed as a flick of his wrists extended short, steel points from the fingers of his gloves. Grasping hands pulled at his side, and he responded by raking talons through a rotting throat, ripping off a chunk of flesh before a second brutal strike with the butt of his other palm knocked the rest of the zombie’s head clean off its shoulders. In the visceral melee, his tattered jacket was pulled open, ragged edges flaring of behind him as he moved until he stood towering above the cowering child, a dark, indistinct figure of shadow. It took the space of several heavy breaths for Midnight to realise that the zombies in the immediate are had been irradiated, as his friends covered his flank and blind spots. Even so, the small boy recoiled from the inky wraith looming over him, terrified. Stepping back, Midnight turned away, pausing as he did. He considered telling the child not to be afraid, as a nearly hysterical woman ran through the street to retrieve her son, but decided to remain silent, stalking back toward his teammates. After all, it was only natural. Deep down, everyone was afraid of the dark.

added Changeling's vignette.

October 10th (Sunday), 6:49pm Visiting hours ended at five, but the people at the hospital were always really nice about letting her stay a little later. Her chair faced the bed as she spoke softly to the sleeping boy, "You know they are having a in a few weeks, the little ones are very excited about it. I passed by and they have decorated the floor that they stay on. Apparently they are going to go around to gather sweets from all the rooms and Ms. Cynthia suggested I bring some bags to share with them." Watching his face, she looked for a response or something that seemed to show that he was listening, but there was nothing. There was no moment or sound that was his own. His breathing was light, and toned out by the beeping of the machine they had put onto his heart. His body didn't move, so the sheets around his bed were always flat and wrinkle free. But still he was still here because she was still here. She knew she was still here because her shadow loomed over his bed and became longer as the sun was setting. It was time for her to leave. Outside of the room seemed a bit of an inverse of what she had seemed. Even in a place for the sick, everyone seemed so full of life and because of the holiday they seemed to be in constant movement. Several nurses were putting up little decorations for each room, while doctors passed them with the look that they had something important to be doing. There was nobody around that was not in white, and on this hall there was no one who would walk around in those paper dresses. This was the floor where they kept people like Dimitrius, people who though they looked alive so void of any real life, and when she went down the stairs she would pass the place where there were people with no life. The idea of passing the morgue almost always made Etain's skin crawl just a little, but it was preferable to the alternative. She could not understand how humans could so easily ride in those little metal boxes. It was not a long walk, three floors perhaps of her walking directly in the middle of the stairs away from the hand rails. Getting to the bottom she used her umbrella to push the safety bar and walk quietly down the hallway to the hospitals lobby. This time, she was not alone in her walk, as she moved down she had to push herself against the wall as one of those metal beds was walked along with those plastic bags that they sometimes stored the life impaired. It was something she had seen before, though she almost always averted her eyes to the scene as they moved and she quickened her pace down the hallway. However, there was something strange. As she moved down the hallway even as they past she saw a slight trail that began just a few feet in front of her and passed, though faint at first, it was there a sort of magic she could not identify at first. It was this that made her turn full circle to see the people disappearing with the body into the morgue and the trail following it. Her eyes wide and her objective forgotten she sprinted down the hall and to the door. Catching the door before it closed she gave it a shove before screaming, "Move away, move away now!" They stared at her before a couple one of them moved towards her trying to ask what was wrong, the other however continued to unzip the bag, "No, wait, it is evil, move away." She ran past slipping from the other guys grip and shoving the worker out of the way as a hand moved out of the bag and grabbed onto her. She nearly yelped as she glanced at her, though the image of the moving copse might of scared her the aura was what did the work. She very nearly felt like she was going to be sick as she looked at the twisting horrid magic that wafted off of it as it tried to pull itself closer to her. She was almost entranced by the horror that she did not notice it pulling her hand closer to it. However when she saw it open it's mouth she came back to reality and lifted her umbrella with her other hand. Banging down hard onto it's face she hit the vile thing so it would let go, so that she could look away so that she would never have to look at it again. There was no blood splatter at the plastic umbrella started to crack from the impact and the creature kept pulling her in. The umbrella split on the still moving zombie and feeling it go limp she threw it away before the zombie reached out and grabbed her other hand. Feeling the additional cold grip she reeled and pulled backwards and took the zombie off the cart and onto the floor bring her with it. She nearly screamed again as it tried to grab onto her dress. Her free hand went into her purse and searched, searched for something. Grabbing something long and thin she pulled from her purse one of the needles Ms. Cynthia had bought her that she was supposed to use with yarn. She pulled it out and held it at it's end. The zombie was trying to pull itself out using her for leverage and as it grabbed onto the front of her dress she screamed as she plowed the pointed end of the plastic needle into it's eye. It was only then that the creature finally let go of her and that the hated magic started to fade. The watching hospital workers stared at her as she stood up and moved as far away as she could from the corpse leaning against the cool metal containers even as they stung because they could not scare her more then that horrid creature, "What the hell was that?" She looked over at him her voice strangled, "Evil"

Happy 3rd birthday, Freedom City Play-by-Post! :toot:

I'd suggest building it to a PL equal to the average of the PL of the PCs involved. Gym and Pool can be useful as places to test certain devices. Or just social unwinding.

Dok assumes that those of you who'd be interested in finding blueprints for MAX or Super-MAX armor, or the suits worn by Doc Otaku or the Power Corps, could find them on your own.

October 31st (Sunday) The Way It's Supposed To Be Think think think think. An explosion erupted from Edge's feet as the gas main underneath the street burst, waves of fire and flame bursting forth and incinerating the zombies around the Claremont trio in smoke and ash. Can't keep breaking the street forever, Mark thought a little desperately. I guess I can crush them one at a time if necessary. They'd teleported into the Fens, right in front of a heavily barricaded high school full of civilian refugees. Or even better, the bus! Flashes of black light came from Mark's hands, reaching out and grabbing the school bus, dropping it into the middle of the crowd of zombies and bouncing it back and forth like a bus. As the undead hordes growled and regrouped, a thought came to Mark. This isn't right. Wander was a wrecking machine with her blade, dispatching zombies almost faster than Mark could see, and just at the edge of his vision Midnight was doing something he couldn't quite follow with razor-edged bombs that tore through zombies like lightning strikes. The world shouldn't be like this. It was not a helpful thought under the circumstances, but as another zombie dragon (and where on Earth were THEY coming from?) swept in from above, it came to Mark again. Look at this! There are zombies everywhere, Wander is doing her scary killing machine thing, Midnight is...well, he's on edge about something besides the zombies, anyway! The light pole overhead came tumbling down on the front line of the horde, most of them exploding on contact with the power of electricity. (Mark hadn't done well in shop class.) My friends are upset, there's a flesh-eating horde on the loose...my dad is gone, my mom is upset all the time...the world isn't supposed to be like this! Unbidden, Mark thought about that false reflection of Freedom City his father had made. He reached back and hurled Erin at the zombie dragon overhead, the teen warrior appearing in a flash of black bubbles as she severed the great beast's head with a single swing of the blade he'd made for her. I bet this never happened there. I mean, people were really HAPPY! Was it so wrong if freedom was curtailed a little? There was a crash from beneath his feet, and the teen heroes gathered together again even as something began punching through the streets. Oh wow, an old-time subway car...full of zombie hobos. Aw, man! I'm almost sure this didn't happen there. Why should people have to trade THIS for getting freedom?As zombies exploded and split and squealed, Mark realized the mistake he'd been making. The same mistake Dad made too. You can't build a better world by turning back the clock to a time that's gone, even if you do think it was better. If you want to build a better world, you've got to go out and make it yourself. One step at a time. He blasted a wall of zombies, and they all had a moment's pause as silence fell and they realized this neighborhood was cleared out. The world shouldn't be like this. Monsters shouldn't be trying to scare and hurt people, thought Mark with a little nod. But you don't stop the bad guys by taking freedom away from everyone else. You stop the bad guys by...stopping the bad guys. You build a better world yourself, not by taking away the world people already have. And how do you do that? He looked at Erin, covered in zombie guts, and Trevor, catching his breath. You do it with your friends at your side, fighting for what's right. They'd had some differences between each other lately, but that was all forgotten in the heat of the moment. And we'll stop this, repair the city and help all the hurt people, fix things with my mom, and everything will be great! He realized Erin and Trevor were staring at him expectantly. "Oh, right. Yeah, we've still got twelve other neighborhoods to hit. Sorry, forgot. We're going now!" And in a flash of black, they were on the move again, and back into the fray. Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.

October 27th (Wednesday) Temptation To Be Good Heyzel walked into St. Stephen's and found the lord of Tartarus waiting for him. The angel of Freedom paused a beat, sword flaming into life as he saw the smirking armored figure taking his ease before the church altar, a goblet of wine in hand, before suddenly his eyes narrowed. This was not what it appeared to be; but was it ever with these old 'gods' and their minions? "Is the son of Cronos reduced to taunting his enemies by shadow?" The image of Hades, for that was all it was, smiled at him. "Ah, but must we be enemies, Heyzel?" The shadowy form rose from the altar, angel and reflection of a god all that moved and spoke in the darkened church in this late hour. "I've followed your movements closely since you arrived in this city." The god of death strolled down the aisle with a relaxed look on his face, hardly glancing up at the great stained glass windows on either side. "We may differ on who made the universe, but we have far more in common than your half-divine teachers may have led you to believe." "I find that difficult to believe, sir," said Heyzel with automatic courtesy, debating his own abilities to strike down this false image before anything dire could happen. You had to be _watchful_ with the Olympians, he'd been warned as a cherub, and listen with both ears to their promises. Especially with this one, with his cthonian empire so close to the Adversary's, so close to the depths of corruption. They circled each other in the nave, Hades' reflection connecting directly to the shadows around him. "Your people and mine have been at odds for 2000 years." "True," said Hades, "and if we're being honest with each other, I plan one day to burn all the temples of the god of the Israelites to the ground." He made a little gesture at the church, but then focused again on the angel. "I know not even I can lie to you, son of Jeanne d'Arc," Heyzel blanched briefly at his mother's name, "so I trust you with that knowledge." "And why should I not strike you down for those words?" replied the angel evenly, a halo of glowing radiance around his head. "And lead _my_ people to the depths of Tartarus and once and for all put an end to millennia of tyranny?" "Because you can't," replied Hades with finality. "I know about your mission, angel of freedom. The Heavenly Host await orders from a Creator many of them have never seen, waiting for a day that may never come. If they could have stormed my fortress, they'd have done so two millennia ago. No, you're all alone in this world, abandoned by your maker and those who should be standing by you. Just. Like. Me." He laid an illusory hand on Heyzel's shoulder, between his flowing black hair and wings, and the angel didn't pull away. "You know of the war I'm waging against my enemy." "Yes," replied Heyzel. "Others have become aware of it as well in recent days. I doubt either of you will succeed in your efforts to master control of the city." "Perhaps, perhaps not. But with YOU as my ally, son of Heaven, my victory is assured." Hades had managed to surprise the angel, at least, and Heyzel fought back a look of wide-eyed shock at the offer. "Is it so strange to speak so? You, servant of a god of law, me, master of the Underworld? You can't really expect that Samedi, some mongrel god of slaves and peasants, will have anything kind for your people if he wins, do you? You know the revenge the loa want against the armies of Heaven. If he wins, he'll take it." "But _you_ have promised the same dire fate for the children of Abraham," replied Heyzel, pulling away from Hades. "Wouldn't a practical man side with the weaker of the two, or neither, the better to make sure that the forces of right stay victorious in the city of Freedom?" "Perhaps, Heyzel, but we are not men. The blood of gods and saints are in your veins, boy, and I am the grandson of the earth and sky. Picture it." He made a gesture, and a shimmering image appeared along the darkened church wall, a bright and shining city laden with columns and statues, looking like Rome before the fall. "A world where the gods of law and kings rule! An empire of Heaven on Earth, where sin and vice are punished where all can see and know right! In a millennia or two, there might be war between us. But isn't it worth the chance now?" Heyzel stared at that shining city on a hill, feeling an odd lightness beneath his feet, and a brush of vertigo for a moment, as he considered his options. "You offer a world without freedom. A world where Heaven and Olympus are a kingly empire, with no more goodness than any other realm of fear and power, where the souls of men and women are ground beneath a jeweled cross and burning mountain. No, sir." He turned to Hades and said simply, "Your days have ended, false god. You will not get them back through the children of Abraham, any more than through your own servants. I say unto thee, get thee behind me." Hades' face curled in anger, hellish flames beckoning to his hands...but then he shook his head, and simply smiled. After all, he wasn't there at all. "So be it, son of Heaven. But know this. When the walls of Heaven burn, and the children of Yahweh are dragged to my realm begging an absent Creator to save them, I will remember you and yours most of all." He vanished in a gout of flame, leaving Heyzel alone in the church. It was a long night.

Edge's and Freedom Angel's Vignettes have been added. Please be sure to PM these to me.

"I -- and my head of cybersecurity -- would prefer that you were entered into our systems as a registered user before you go accessing our databases," he replied with a slight chuckle. "But, yes, once you are officially on the staff, and we determine what your projects and 'duties' are, you will be free to access any of the databases you require for your work." "As for superhuman prostheses," he continued as he opened one of the doors, "that is not something we have focused much on. Most of our research into prostheses has been for reconstructive purposes, to provide better replacements of limbs lost to disease or accident, not bionics someone would... want to give up an arm or leg to gain," he chuckled again. "If you desired to do research in that field while working with us, though, we would certainly not stop you." The room beyond was a very well-equipped laboratory, with equal parts dedicated to robotics and biology. It was, in fact, a medical prostheses laboratory. The room held one occupant, a redheaded woman in her late 40s or early 50s. She was in typical lab tech attire -- labcoat, hair up in a bun -- and hard at work designing something on her computer. "Miss Americana, meet Doctor Madeline Silvers." She looked up form her computer and waved, "Maddie, Miss Americana. Dr. Silvers is working on compact energy cells for artificial limbs."

Do note that it's not blueprints and schematics for those power armor suits Dok is showing, it's just pics, likes one you'd see on the news.

"Dimensional shunting does seem the most likely method," Archeville replied, nodding, "though as for what Avalon is... well..." The Doktor fiddled with his Screwdriver some more, causing the images to blur, "that is a bit complicated. Dimensions, you see, come in three rough categories." "The easiest one to understand," he began as the images shifted to various scenes of Freedom City... or so Lynn thought, until she began noticing differences like swastikas everywhere or apes swinging about instead of people walking the sidewalks, "are parallel dimensions. For any even, there are a number of possible outcomes; each outcome leads to more events, each with more outcomes, and so on and so on." An image of a large dot appeared over the parallel world scenes, and out of it spread a few lines. Each line terminated in another dot, which split into more lines, which ended in dots splitting into more lines, and so on until the entire dining room was filled with a bejeweld spiderweb. "For every decision that can be made, it has been made, in another dimension. In this world, the Allies beat the Axis; in another, the reverse happened due to different choices and circumstances. In our world, evolution lead to humans being the dominant species, while on another, apes rule, and on another, life never moved beyond the seas. On most of these worlds, the changes are small, or so insignificant that a traveler wold not notice, but on others, the changes are huge and immediately noticeable. These are the dimensions scientists know best, because they are the ones we seem to find and deal with the most." "There are also the so-called mystical dimensions," he continued, and the image shifted to showing scenes from assorted fantasy moves and cartoons. "There are realities where the laws of physics are markedly different from ours, or where 'magic' is a predominant force. It is possible they are another form of parallel dimension, one where the divergences occurred as that universe was formed and its natural laws were set. It is also possible that they are created solely from sapient minds, a sort of shared consensual dream made real. Curiously, it seems that most naturally occurring transdimensional portals lead to these mystical realms; whether the tales of these realms spread after some poor fool stumbled into it, or these portals came about because of the belief in them grew after the spreading of the tales these worlds, is something of a chicken-and-egg conundrum." "The third type are the interstitial or transitive dimensions," he went on, and the image shifted to showing three spheres, one glowing with a soft silvery light, one glowing an angry red, and one of tv static. "These lie 'between' or 'around' other dimensions, the medium through which others travel when moving from one dimension to another, as well as 'insulating' them from one another. The Astral Plane," he said as the silvery sphere enlarged and moved to the front, and pulsed like a steady heartbeat, "connects Earth and all the other 'mystical' dimensions, as well as -- in some way -- all sapient minds. The infamous Terminus," the red sphere moved to the front and pulsed angrily, "is also an interstitial dimension, touching Earth and all other parallel dimensions. The Zero Zone," the tv static sphere moved forward and froze in the forward position, "is... outside even all of that, and has been used mainly as a 'dumping ground' for other dimensions. Centurion even banished a few of his most powerful foes there."

Nick Cimitiere's vignette is up!

Vignettes for Supercape and Silhouette have been posted!

October 3rd (Sunday), evening. The Second death of Doctor Glow One of the most tragic occurances in Freedom City University was the death of Doctor Gordon Glow, nuclear physicist, last year. Professor Quill (the masked superhero known as Supercape) was his replacement, and much admired, but there was always the sadness of Glow's death. Gordon Glow had, accidentally, been exposed to a massive amount of radiation in an experiment - the cause was never truly understood despite intensive investigation. Perhaps a hazard of the job, for Glow had always pushed the boundaries of nuclear physics. One year on, Quentin Quill had decided to attend the memorial service, and went to the graveyard where Glow had died. His wife and only child were there, as were several members of the university, some friends, and a few extended family. Glow had been popular. The tone of the service was sombre. Despite his strict athiesm, Quentin was moved by the speeches, even when they had a religious overture. As the crowds began to depart and the sun began to set, Quentin lingered a little, exchanging a few words with Ms. Glow, a rather longer conversation with some university colleauges, and no words at all with Liebniz, although he conceded that even Liebniz had seemed fond of Glow, and had refrained from using this occassion to try and get some research grant or academic leverage. Perhaps replacing Glow was the reason Liebniz was always at Quentin's throat. Perhaps not. As more people drifted away, Quentin felt something that, at first, he dismissed as his mind playing tricks on him. The sun had nearly set, and the mood had been emotional. The shadows were long, and he was tired. Neverthless, there it was again. Some small flicker of energy, right where Glow had been buried. Quentin made his excuses and wandered off as the sun set, and the night became almost pitch black. He could barely see, but guiding himself by the faint flicker of energy and his uncanny mental ability to sense the matter around him, he strode back to the grave, his clothes reforming themselves into a jet black colour. Last thing he wanted was to be caught grave robbing, either as Professor Quill, or indeed as Supercape. He bent down to the grave and put his head right to the earth. Could he detect a slight scratching sound? yes? no? he put his ear to the ground.. no, nothing. The wind suddenly blew a cool chill across his face, and a skeletal hand shot out from the grave, all dust and fury. It was glowing a palid blue-green, a cross between an old ghost movie light and the centre of a nuclear reactor. Vast and unknown radation streamed from the fingers as the hand grasped round Quentin's neck and tightened. "Take my chair, would you!" rasped an earthy voice, as the skeletal and rotting remains of Glow burst forth from the earth, glowing its horrible radiation. Quentin was choking, but not helpless. "Pl..ease... I did..n't... I had... it was... empty..." he croaked, all the time focussing on the particularly strange atoms of the skeleton and disentangling them. The glowing face pressed itself against Quentins, so close he had to erect his quantum field to prevent his face being burnt. Even so, he could feel his eyebrows singing. "I want my chair back" groaned the grinning skull. "Do you now!" croaked Quentin, forming a mallet of heavy Quantum matter in his hand and bringing in down on the now paper thin arm that held him by the throat. The bones shattered in an explosion of light, only for the dusty remains and splinters to whirl and reform as a semi-gaseous wisp of luminescence. "YES I DO!" roared the undead beast, and suddenly a mass of bones and horrible light was upon Quentin. Despite the protection of his force feild and special clothing, Quentin was overcome and struggling. "Come on man" he pleaded "Think of your wife, your children... I know you are in there somewhere! whats become of you man!" The bony mass howled with horror. Quentin continued "I spoke to them, I spoke to them all today, Gordon. How much they admired you. How much they grieved for you. I don't know what's come back, but please, please, this is an affront to the man!" The bony heap collapsed, glowing still. "Ju...Juliet....Ma...Mathew" it uttered, forlorn. "Something...in me... restless... waking me...make it stop... MAKE IT STOP!" it wailed. "Quentin stood up, coughing dust (he hoped it was dust anyway). "How? I dont know what it even is!" he replied. The creature looked at him, emitting gaseous green light. "Stop the light! Stop the light!" it moaned, still fighting whatever possessed him. Quentin was no expert on the paranormal, but physics he could understand. Perhaps if he nudged a few atoms this way, a few that, after all, the streams of energy emitting from this creature were clearly the same form of radiation that had killed Professor Glow. Maybe by absorbing it, or nullifying it.. yes, yes... and as the jigsaw of quantum and atomic states fell into place, the air cooled and heated, and the light died. The bony ragged thing fell to the floor, barely moving. Feebly raising a hand, it whispered its second final words to Quentin. "Tell my family I loved them, they were everything... everything. Love is what gives life meaning..." And with that, professor Glow died his second death.

October 31st, 9:26m. The Fens Her parents were lighting candles and putting them in a lantern. Her brother was dressed in full skeleton wear trying to scare whoever he could with an unexpected hand on the shoulder at the right moment and slow breathing. Her sister was probably helping Carly dress the Evil Ems in the bat and cat costumes she had picked out for them as they got ready to go treat or treating in seventy degree weather. If she closed her eyes, she could see this scene perfectly, but when she opened them, all she saw was the limp bodies dragging themselves forward for more punishment. Her family wouldn't see this, they were gone, having left several days beforehand celebrate Día de los Muertos with her cousins. She wasn't there, instead she was pressed against a wall, walking away from several zombies who didn't seem to notice the additional shadow. It had been coming all along, the cartels was just the tip of the iceberg. She should of seen it coming, the moment Robin told her she should of known this would happen. Things were still unclear though. This was something big, something important and she had to figure out the rest of the story. She had to know. October 31st, 10:47m. Lantern Hill It wasn't hard to find them, the ones involved, in fact it was just a matter of retracing her steps. Starting from Robin's shop, the dealers in Riverside, then finally Lantern Hill. Seemed a bit obvious in retrospect but then everything did. What was important was after finding the area all it took was spotting and following an unusually calm looking individual into a previously unexplored path. The path wasn't exactly well lit but this was a good thing, it made it easier to keep to the shadows. It seemed to go on forever before eventually opening up to a room only lit by torches. The people there didn't seem much different then ordinary people, maybe some fancy garments, but there was nothing outright that screamed crazy. No, what screamed crazy was the figure they were looking at. Sitting down on a thrown set in a circle, he looked not quite sane. His gaze was sunken and glassy, his figure twitching every so slightly, but still he sat like he was suppose to be the picture of calm. She almost didn't recognize him though she had never met him in person, it could of only been him, and it was this realization that got her running. Quiet wasn't the objective anymore, whether they heard the patter of her foot steps, or whether there were people after her with guns or swords, it didn't matter. They had someone, someone important, someone that Freedom couldn't lose, it couldn't lose another hero, not like that. She met two followers at the door, they both saw and pulled out pistols, though only one got a shot off before she plowed into them at full speed. With one of them out, the other stunned she took the chance to knock the other with a blow to the jaw. It took her only half a second to decided to search their clothes, and only a few more to locate the small sleek little phone. Then she ran. She punched in the number one handed praying that her finger didn't slip up as she managed to click send. Each break before the ring coniciding with her own breathing as she continued out of the cavern when it finally picked up, "Mona! Mona it's Carrie, they have him, Daedalus, they have him, in Lantern Hill. They're doing something with him, with the Zomb...." Whatever muttered continuation or excuse she had was cut short by a gun shot and then the line dropped.

Archeville nodded along with the team's words, "excellent ideas, and I can attest to the efficacy of capturefoam projektors. De ArcheTech facilities uses similar restraints, vhich can be made airtight to contain liquid- and gaseous-bodied Metahumans. We can also mix in assorted compounds into de basic foam 'recipe' in order to counteract certain Metahuman abilities, such as many forms of intangibility. Dis system vas partly inspired by a certain European supervillain-" He entered commands into his tablet, and next to the holo-schematics already present appeared a man in light battlearmor, gold with green trim, with a golden gun, which looked more like a very, very advanced Super Soaker than a standard firearm or blaster. The helmet's faceplate is divided in two vertically, giving it a vaguely insectile appearance. "Binder, a rather brilliant chemist from mein homeland, who unfortunately chose to use his gifts for selfish purposes. He und I haff tangled many times, and while his Resin Rifle is ineffective against many energy projektors or powerhouses, it has been quite effective at stopping martial artists or gadgeteers... like meinself." The Doktor's fingers danced over his tablet, and the image of Binder changed into an exploded view of his armor; other suits of armor, from standard SWAT riot gear and MAX and Super-MAX armor, to the suits of Daedalus and the Power Corps, also appeared. "I vould like to shift this discussion slightly, from nullification to defense. Doktor Volk's talk of improved materials for protective gear is one tactic; what would be some others? What of force fields for law enforcement officers? Or 'life support fields' for firefighters?"

Let's aim a bit higher -- a Bystander can Take 20 and beat a DC 20 check. I like the idea, I'm just sad I can't participate (since I've spent all of Dok's pps)!

"Mysterious? Not at all, my perspicacious pixie!" he exclaimed as he wiped the last bit of the saag paneer with a bit of naan. "If you did burst, that would be the unusual thing!" "You see, most size-shifters, like... oh, were did I put that..." He paused as he patted his pockets, then brought forth his Electromagnetic Screwdriver and set it to display 3-d holographic images to accompany his mini-lecture. "There are several ways a Metahuman might alter their size. The first is Parts Compression: the parts of their body slide together into a tightly compressed fashion, shifting out in the larger mode, like those transforming robot toys." The images shown were clips of various transforming robot cartoons. "And like those action figures, mass remains the same no matter the size, so the larger forms are much weaker structurally than the compacted forms." "The other manner is Mass Conversion, where the molecules that compose the Metahuman body restructure themselves. Mass Conversion can be further subdivided into three manners: Atomic Dispersal/Collapse, Atomic Gain/Reduction, and Atomic Growth/Shrinkage. With Atomic Dispersal/Collapse, the distance between a Metahuman's own molecules and even atoms are altered, thus increasing his overall size; collapsing the distance causes a reduction in size. Mass remains the same throughout, though, as with the aforementioned Parts Compression, but you get a far finer dispersal. This is what happened to Mr. Mist." The images now were of the gas-like biochemist in his airtight containment pod at Blackstone. "Atomic Gain/Reduction is by far the most common method used by those with size- or shape-altering abilities." The image now showed news footage of Maximus and Victoria Atom, and Doc Otaku in his mecha-suit. "Here, the Metahuman creates or gains new atoms and incorporates them into their atomic structure -- either by drawing them in from some extradimensional source or by converting energy into matter -- to grow, and reverses the process to shrink. In this model, mass does increase or decrease along with size, so weight also changes. This is most likely what is going on with you: whatever process you trigger either shifted man of your molecules to another dimension, or converted them to some exotic energy; the food you just ate undergoes the same process since it is in you, a part of you." "The last form, Atomic Growth/Shrinkage, is rare, but not unheard of. In this model, the atoms themselves increase or decrease in size, either by dispersing or collapsing the subatomic particles which make up their atoms, or by gaining or reducing them via extradimensional shunting or matter/energy conversion. There are a number of side-effects with this method -- as the subject's atoms grow, they would be unable to interact with normal atoms -- like oxygen! -- while a laser rifle grown in this manner would be seen to be spitting out large streams of beach ball-sized photons! There is one advantage, though: this method of size alteration is the only manner that will enable travel to the "microverse.""

"314, when last I checked" he replied as he pushed the button for the seventh floor. "Though barley a quarter of those are researchers or scientists. You see, the primary function of this ArcheTech facility is to serve as a communications hub and routing center for all the other ArcheTech facilities worldwide. Those are where the majority of our research and other work are done." The ride was smooth, and when the doors opened, there were greeted by the sounds of research -- people moving to and fro, keyboards clacking, the occasional shouting match -- coming from behind the numerous doors and frosted glass panels that made up the hallways around them. "Our Chicago facility, for example, focuses on improving and streamlining industrial manufacturing techniques," he continued as he lead her down one hall, "while the New York branch focuses on cybernetics. A branch in Wichita focuses on creating and refining computer-aided design technologies, and one in Research Triangle Park focuses on agricultural biotechnology. This branch is mainly administrative and general research, and facilitates communications and exchange of materials amongst all the other branches." "There is one area of research this facility focuses on," he went on as they turned a corner. Soon Miss Americana heard muffled energy discharges and the whines of electric or hydraulic motors. "Metahuman research, a field for which this facility's location makes it ideally suited. That research we do freely share with the Albright Institute, and they share with us, so we help each other quite a bit."

Thoughts of giving Miss Americana a tour left Archeville's mind as she discussed her past and present projects, and the workings of her abilities. "Is there a minimum amount of complexity a system must have before you can interact with it? I have always wondered that about cyberkinetics," he continued as he rose and headed towards the double doors. "It is the only Metahuman ability that requires completely man-made items to work. For all we know there could have been hundreds of cyberkinetics running around in the Dark Ages, but they had no electronic to interface with!" The doors opened silently as they approached. The halls were empty, so the way to the elevator was clear. "Speaking of miniaturization, do you have much experience with nanotechnology? It is a field I myself am focused on at the moment. Is there a size limit to the type of machine you can inhabit?"

Archeville's attention was split between his possessed Screwdriver and the very lifelike gynoid seated next to him. The Doktor chuckled at her words when she returned to her body. "Given your clearly superb technical skills, I am surprised you have not incorporated something like this into her. Does she have any, ah, 'optional extras'? Wait, no, let me see what you allowed my scanners to pick up! Hrrmm... bioplast sheeting skin... non-conductive polymer composites... a number of very interesting alloys in the spinal column... she must be quite strong, and durable. Ah, and a very impressive storage capacity and computational speed! Which she would need, in order to house your mind in such a way for you to operate her as you do. Truly astounding!" The Doktor was like a kid in a candy store looking over the readings. After a moment he put the Screwdriver down, though it was clear it took him some effort to do so. "Yes, truly astounding, but we can go into more technical details later. Would you care for a tour of the place, see where you would be working?"

Slick lay unconscious in the kitchen, having stopped there for a quick snack. Binder continued downloading files, but paused when he felt a sudden blow. His armored protected him, but he knew that was not from one of the autotmated defenses -- Archeville was here, and cloaked. Cyclone lay unconscious some distance from the Castle. Thunderbolt amused himself by zapping the few staff down in the power core. He knew he was supposed to keep an eye on things, cut power to the defense systems if he could figure out how (as if such would be a challenge to him!), and be prepared to send it all to overload once the rest of the team was done. But that was boring, and he wanted to zap something now! Radium had just KO'd the last guard, when he was once again doused in the quick-hardening capturefoam, cocooned and stuck to the floor! He was already fatigued from having spent so much energy already, so when he tried blasting out, the foam barley bulged. Blackstar found what he was looking for in the hangar's systems, and began downloading files. He saw Radium's predicament, but did not move to help him; he had his tasks to do, and besides, if the mute was dumb enough to keep getting caught, he deserved it!

20 -- Blackstar -- Bruised 18 -- Fulcrum -- Unharmed -- 3 HP 16 -- Slick -- Unconscious 14A -- Binder -- bruised, fatigued 14B -- Dok -- Unharmed -- 1 HP (will be fatigued at beginning of action next round) 11 -- Cyclone -- Bruised, Staggered, Unconscious 4 -- Thunderbolt -- Bruised x2, -1 Con 4 -- Radium -- Unharmed Slick Is Unconscious! (KO'd by Castle Defenses last round) Binder Continues downloading files. 20 -- Blackstar -- Bruised 18 -- Fulcrum -- Unharmed -- 3 HP 16 -- Slick -- Unconscious 14A -- Binder -- bruised, fatigued 14B -- Dok -- Unharmed -- 1 HP (will be fatigued at beginning of action next round) 11 -- Cyclone -- Bruised, Staggered, Unconscious 4 -- Thunderbolt -- Bruised x2, -1 Con 4 -- Radium -- Unharmed Dok Free Action: HP to nix fatigue (0 now) Free Action: Talk to Fulcrum Free Action: Switch to Cloaking Field Move Action: Fly up to 4th floor and to Binder Standard Action: Punching! Attack vs. Binder (Defense 12 flat-footed); power attack for +/-5, sneak attack applies due to concealment; DC 25 Toughness save if he hits (1d20+15=33) Toughness save (DC 25) (1d20+10=27) Castle Defenses Re-acquire Blackstar and Radium, and target the walking nuclear reactor. Attack vs. Radium (Defense 16); DC 23 Reflex save vs. Snare 13 if it hit (1d20+14=16) Reflex save (DC 23) vs. Snare 13 (1d20+7=9) Fails by 14, he's bound & helpless! 20 -- Blackstar -- Bruised 18 -- Fulcrum -- Unharmed -- 3 HP 16 -- Slick -- Unconscious 14A -- Binder -- bruised, stunned, fatigued 14B -- Dok -- Unharmed -- 0 HP 11 -- Cyclone -- Bruised, Staggered, Unconscious 4 -- Thunderbolt -- Bruised x2, -1 Con 4 -- Radium -- Unharmed, bound (Snare 13) Cyclone Is Unconscious! Thunderbolt Standard Action to Blast the mook staff and technicians down near the power core while awaiting orders. Radium Is helpless and bound in a Toughness 13 Snare. Full Round Action: Attempt to break Snare with his Radiation Control (Blast) 10. When doing so, treat the item as taking 5 on its Toughness save, for a total of 18. Against a DC 25 Blast, that fails by 7. That damages the Snare, reducing its Toughness by 1, to 12. Begin round 8 20 -- Blackstar -- Bruised 18 -- Fulcrum -- Unharmed -- 3 HP 16 -- Slick -- Unconscious 14A -- Binder -- bruised, stunned, fatigued 14B -- Dok -- Unharmed -- 0 HP 11 -- Cyclone -- Bruised, Staggered, Unconscious 4 -- Thunderbolt -- Bruised x2, -1 Con 4 -- Radium -- Unharmed, bound (Snare 12) Blackstar Finds what he was looking for in the hangar computers, and begins downloading files.