Dr Archeville

Made a slight edit/addition to my last post, which requires a small edit/addition to yours.

Less than two more weeks to get these in, folks!

From the ATT:

Indeed so. And be sure to check the House Rules thread, we have changed some things since you were last here.

"Very vell, den, ve shall test your force field..." Archeville began, though somewhat stifled, as if holding back laughter. And then it burst out, a full head-tossing, torso-shaking Evil Laugh. "Mit lasers! Muah hah hah hah hah hah hah!!!" The Doktor cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, then a huge grin spread across his face. "Ahem... ja, sorry, all part of de image. 'Mad Scientist' und all dat. So, if you vould just take a stand over dere, in de firing range, ve can get started..." "Oh, can you tell me vhat sort of attacks your force field has protected you from before? Small arms fire, machine guns, blasts or strikes from known Metahumans und supervillains, dat sort of ding."

Welcome back! You do realize we're not doing PC Villains anymore, right? I can un-archive him, but in addition to amping him up to PL 7, he'd need to reform and become a heroic type of character.

Knowledge/Arcane Lore check (1d20+9=22) Not bad, not bad.

[bg=#000000]"Whoa, hey, you can't be puttin' stuff in there!,"[/bg] the head shouted as she moved to transfer the bag, [bg=#000000]"I got stuff in there already!"[/bg] It popped its skullcap back on, then popped its head back on its shoulders, "Private stuff! Took me forever t'get it arranged jes' so." It turned its head this way and that for a moment, as if checking to be sure it was re-attached properly. "Okay, okay, lemme see whatcha got." The odd reverb in its voice was no longer present. He took out a bottle of whiskey and box of cigars from the bag, and nodded approvingly. "Ya done yer homework girl; I am impressed. Though, if'n ya need me again, I ain't opposed to a lil' rum. Oh, now what have we got here?!" The zombie pulled out the wrapped hand, and peeled off the clinging transparent film. It was a human hand, the flesh dessicated and gray-brown, nearly mummified, and missing a thumb. The remaining four fingers had each been dipped in wax and a wick stuck at the tip, turning the entire thing into a macabre candelabra. He turned it this way and that, then let out a low whistle. "Nasty bit'a work, this is. A Hand'a Glory. Usually made from the hand of a hanged murderer; some say it's gotta be the left one, some say the right'll do jes' fine, some say it's gotta be the hand what did the deed. Light the candles here, everyone what sees its light or smells its smoke is put to a deep sleep, an' they can't be woke 'till the light's put out. Which is easier said'n done, since they's no ordinary candles -- they's made from human fat, an' the wicks is human hair -- an' no ordinary flame. Blowin' on 'em won't work, puttin' it in water won't work; ya gotta put it in milk. Pow'rful stuff, an' hard t'make." The zombie looked up at her, a quizzical look on its face. "Where'd you come by it, miss?"

"Yeah, that's what I did, attacked someone I just saw wanderin' 'round here after dark," the zombie said coolly, "not tryin' to jes' scare off someone who was messin' up the place, an' who attacked me first. Not that I could do anything even if I was inclined t'do so, since Blue here froze me solid in a big hunk'a ice 'fore I got near 'er." Okay, that ain't entirely true -- I was gonna bop her one after she'd shot at me. But what Wander don't know won't separate my head from my shoulders. Then it turned to Lady Winter, and gave her a rather indignant glare. "Th' dead complain all the time, Blue, you people are jes' too wrapped up in yer own lives t'hear 'em. Most ain't strong enough to cross over an' make enough ruckus t'get through to y'all, but that don't mean they ain't wailin' somewhere."

Fifth Annual Silly Putty Drop.

Archeville's face also tensed when she mentioned their relationship maturing, and the relaization of his faux pas. "Oh, of course, of course!," He drew back some and looked around, a bit nervously, "Sorry, dis is... dis is all still somevhat new to me." When she went back to speaking of her comics work, he calmed back down, and leaned in again, hanging on her every word. "Dose all sound fascinating! Dough, er, if you find yourself illustrating any of de great vorks of science fiction, I hope it vould not be inappropriate for me to offer mein services as a technical advisor. Dough... I vould guess dat sci-fi vorks are in de same category as superhero vorks, dat dere is a decreasing call for dem because so much dat vas science fiction has become science fact, or vill be so in de very near future. Vhich vould be a true shame, given how much I haff been inspired by it!" When she agreed with his suggestion to go, he flashed his warmest smile at her, before waving over one of the baristas and asking for some assistance in facilitating their egress. When she came back with the requested items (and the bill), Mona may have noticed that Viktor was a very generous tipper. Moments later, they were outside, strolling down the sidewalk, cool breezes on their faces. "Oh, dis is much better!"

Probably so, yes. Since the hospitals seem quite well taken care of, I'll shift Ol' Deady to the prison detail.

Archeville said nothing in response to Jack's jibe about doing all this as an excuse to see Mona, though he did let slip a look minor annoyance at the remark. Instead, he focused on Colt's line of questioning. "I already haff plans for some upgrades ve could do, und some partially completed components dat could be installed, such as some improved sensors or non-lethal veapons to restrain targets. For dings I must design und build from scratch, a veek vill be ample time." Jack's remark about robots -- the ones they both knew were programmed to imitate Jack's & Colt's fighting styles -- drew another look from the Doktor: a grin. "Funny you should mention dem, since deir tested success is vhy I am putting you und Colt in charge of developing de new training regimen."

Hunh, tiny lil' thing. But big trouble can come in small packages. "Yeah, I'm him," the zombie replied warily, hands on his hips. "An' this... this ain't the worse things I've worn." "So, lil' miss, whatcha come lookin' fer ol' Dead Head fer, hrm?" He began slowly walking in a wide circle around her, "I gotta sense ya know a thing'r two about magic, but I hope y'ain't here lookin' t'raise up some spirits just fer some thrills & giggles. I tend t'take issue with that. If yer here for answers from Beyond th' Grave, though..." The Revoltin' Revenant placed both hands on the side of his head, and pulled upward, separating it from his neck. It brought its head to chest level (so now eye-to-eye with Robin), holding it with one hand and leaning it slightly against its chest, and with the other hand popped off the top of its skull, as easily as a rabbinical student removing his yarmulke. [bg=#000000]"... yer free t'pick my brain!"[/bg] Robin may have noticed that its voice had an odd echo-y reverb after it had separated its head from its shoulders. If she had, she would know it was due to the fact its voice was now being supplied by mystical energies, not air from its lungs passing over its mouth, lips and teeth.

Archeville was holding his invention in one hand, covering one ear with his other, and had his head turned a bit so he could cover the other ear with his shoulder. "Ja, I haff got some great readings!" The Doktor shook his head a bit to clear it, then approached Rift. "So, ah, vhich vould yo like to test next: your flight, or your force field?"

Looks like they're collapsing skills, though, so it could even out. I'm betting they'll cut the number of Knowledge skills in half.

"Never been to a live show, but I do have de special collector's edition of de movie on disc. I actually got it in de first place because of Meat Loaf; I love de theatrical quality of his music und performances. I vould certainly be up for a midnight showing, dough! Und if ve really vanted to deconstruct it," his grin turned decidedly mischievous, "I could go as Rocky und you could be Doktor Frank N. Furter!" He took a sip of his coffee whle she spoke of her art, then almost spat as he blurted out, "Perhaps you could show some of your pieces at ArcheTech?" This was followed by some rapid addendums, "or... at some museums or schools. I make considerable donations to a number of dem, both in Freedom und beyond, if you felt too shy to show someding locally, und I am sure I could get some people to consider your pieces. If you vanted, of course. I am sure I could help find a venue for some of your pieces... if you'd like." "I vould very much like to see your comics vork, too. Do you do anyding aside from superhero comics? I recall a study from about two decades ago saying superhero comics were losing popularity, since de characters in dem could not match de vons found all around us, und dat de predicted trend vas for a shift to comics depicting historical events, or illustrating great literary vorks." He paused to take another sip of coffee, "did you find dat to be de case? I vould imagine dat you und ozhers in your field might haff problems mit royalties und copyrights und licenses, if you made a comic based on some existing Super, or some Super comes around who happens to be identical to von you created for your vorks." "It is probably not dat different from de issues I run into mit patents for mein inventions. Which is von reason vhy," he leaned in a bit , as did several of the gathered onlookers, "I do not dink I could ever get bored mit your vorld." "Soo...," he glanced around them, "how much longer did you vish to stay here?"

Dead Head had stopped laughing -- which was a mercy, given how utterly freakish a laughing zombie both looked and sounded -- and put its hands on its hips. As the temperature slowly rose back to its original near-summer hear, the two heroines noticed a definite aroma from the zombie. "Superhero, hunh? Ain't many'a them that hang around cemeteries. So, what's yer story, Blue? Are ya one'a them Ice People?" Crazy gal, he thought of Wander, bustin' up them skeletons. They coulda re-buried themselves if she hadn't broke 'em!

... of course!

DC ADVENTURES Design Journal #4 They've changed the basic abilities! No Str/Dex/Con/Int/Wis/Cha, now it's Strength, Stamina, Agility, Dexterity, Fighting, Intellect, Awareness, and Presence. (Con --> Stamina, Dex --> Agility, Intelligence --> Intellect, Wisdom --> Awareness, Charisma --> Presence, I'd wager.) New skills: Athletics (Acrobatics/Climb/Swim?), Close Combat: Unarmed (Attack Focus/Attack Specialization is a skill now?), Deception (Bluff/Disguise?), Expertise (Profession?), Insight (Sense Motive?), Perception (Notice/Search?), Persuasion (Bluff/Diplomacy/Intimidate?), Ranged Combat (Attack Focus/Attack Specialization is a skill now?), Vehicles (Drive/Pilot?). Looks like Fighting is base Melee Attack, modified by ranks in a Close Combat skill. And Dexterity is base Ranged Attack, modified by ranks in a Ranged Combat skill. AP's now called AE -- Alternate ??? "Movement" power folds in Environmental Adaptation and Space Flight? Super-Senses got reworked? New category called "Advantages" -- replaces Feats? Dodge and Parry? No Reflex save?

Unarchived at char request.

"Shootin' at me as soon as ya laid eyes on me is what makes ya bad," the zombie shouted back to Lady Winter (though still keeping one eye on Wander), "I only moaned atcha after ya shot me, an' that was jes' t'scare ya off! I don't want you messin' up the place, killin' all the nice flowers folks left fer their loved ones, or damagin' the bodies un'erneath. An' when ya froze me solid, all I could do was ask th' locals fer help!" It still held its arms up. "An' then you come up here," it turned slightly so it was facing Wander fully, "with yer bat swingin', assumin' the worse. I-" Realization suddenly dawned on the zombie's face. Well, as much as it could show on his face, anyway. "Well, ain't this a case'a th' pot callin' th' kettle black? Here I am 'bout t'call you on assumin' the worse, based solely on appearances, when that's exactly what I did! Ha!" The zombie lowered its arms when it slapped its knees while doubling over in laughter.

As the last skeleton fell, the last of the zombie's pieces re-attached, and it stood once again before Lady Winter. But now, its murderous look was gone, replaced -- as much as it could be, given the permanent rictus grin -- with... fear? Wander?! Oh ****! The super-zombie turned to the newcomer and threw its arms into the air (not literally, thankfully), then pointed to the blue-skinned blonde. "Whoa! She's the bad one here, not me! She attacked me first! She's one'a them Ice People! She was freezin' the place! Probably preparin' fer an invasion from the north!"

Skeletons are Minions, so you can Take 10 on the attack roll. Wander easily hits. The poor, defenseless Skeletons cannot make the DC 27 Wander rains down on their doomed skulls. She hits one, it goes down. Given her Speed, Wander can reach them all with Takedown Attack 2. Wander takes 'em all out in her first round. :cry: Lady Winter's up!

When it rains, it pours: my Mom's been admitted to the hospital. Complications from her knee replacement surgery.