Dr Archeville

Davyd had been trying not to stare at Lulu. He'd been looking at Pan and Veronica, the boat they were on & the ones they passed, the islands, and the birds and fish in the area. As the Horizon came into view, he did a double take. He'd seen a few catamarans before, serving as passenger ferries, but this was a much more impressive vessel. "Wow! Veronica, you said these-" he'd turned to ask her something, but the sight of a water-drenched Lulu temporarily shorted his adolescent brain. "you... you said... you, uh..." He coughed nervously, "you said these researchers worked on projects funded by your family, yes? Did they pay for that ship, too?"

Davyd was happy to see Lu Chu was pleased with his partial imitation, and a bit stunned at being licked and bear-hugged. But it wasn't completely unexpected, given what had happened before, and it was a very good hug, so he wrapped his arms around the Li as best he could. "Okay, okay," he gently pushed himself away from Lu, "I think I can get this next part. I'm not sure anyone here can help me with my abilities, but I'm very fortunate to have two mentors back on Earth." He shook himself, rolled his neck, "Daphne's been teaching me some exercises that I think should help me with this next part." The Mini-Li stretched out, flexing every bit, from his fingers to his toes. His arms began to elongate and swell. He inhaled deeply, and his chest and torso expanded greatly. His left leg grew, then the right. All of this went smoothly, no sounds of popping bones or stretching flesh. Finally, with another shake, his ursine head expanded. Now he truly was a perfect match for Lu Chu... at least, in outward appearance. "I got it!" His voice was still Davyd's, though deeper, more rumble-y. "I- wait, Lulu, what?!"

Penny's relaxed purr reverberated through Archeville, a pleasant sensation he'd become accustomed to, but now was able to better study thanks to his new form. Interesting, 30 Hz. On the low end for a housecat, but still within standard parameters. Could that be tied to some of the unusual effects we've seen from you lately? Setting your purrs to match dimensional frequencies... it could happen, theoretically. He looked the cat in the eyes, would you let me study you, little one? I promise it would be completely non-invasive, and would come with many treats. So focused was he on Mona's cat that he almost missed when she'd started talking. But his eyes and ears recorded everything now, so a quick playback of the part he hadn't consciously listened to, played in his mind as she continued, let him easily catch up. And then he played the entire pronouncement over again, to make sure he hadn't missed anything. And then a third time, to make sure he was hearing her right. "What?!" His exclamation, plus his abrupt ceasation of massaging, drew an annoyed glare from his lapmate. "You must have been going... and your energy levels..." He turned to face her, his own face practically glowing with joy, "liebchen, that is amazing! What was it like? How did you navigate out there? What did you see?"

"Well -- and, again, I cannot speak for my comrades," he stood by the seat at end of the table furthest from their host, assuming he would seat himself at the head, "but I am still pondering it. There is much to consider here, and many questions left unanswered. My offer to you, Lord Uplift, still stands: relocation to an off-world site, where you and your benefactor may continue your work in peace, without concern for interference. We would help you move, if you so required, and could provide additional specimens before you go." He leaned forward slightly on the chair, "we can even provide some selections for you to choose from -- it can be one early in its development, that has no natural life forms, or just simple plants and fungi, or complex but non-sapients animals, which could be incorporated into your experiments-" Which would mean sacrificing whatever intellects and cultures that they might develop. Oof. Maybe he won't take that option. "- or a world that had been inhabited, but underwent some great calamity -- a plague, a nuclear war, runaway greenhouse processes -- which killed of all the native life forms... or all but the most hardy. You could create a whole world of cultures... or recreate long-dead ones, giving them a second chance! I see you have done much," he gestured at their surroundings, "with the relatively few resources you have here, and restricted by having to work subtly, to avoid detection. Imagine what you could do with an entire planet's worth of resources, and able to work openly! You have much potential, sir," he held out his hand, offering it to Uplift across the table, "and I wish to see that potential flourish... but in an environment removed from here, where you would not face opposition."

Gonna try diplomacizing Lord Uplift, from one mad scientist to another. Dok's still got his Mind set to "Enhanced CHA." He's untrained in Diplomacy, so that's a +7 bonus. I'm going to use one of his 5 Hero Points to activate Beginner's Luck, giving him 5r in Diplomacy. Which puts his total at +12. 1d20+12: 18 [1d20=6] I can do better. And I shall, by using another HP to Improved Roll! 1d20+12: 29 [1d20=17] Muuuuch better. Down to 3 HP now.

Strix can take care of hisself. Strix can take care of hisself. Strix can take care of hisself. This ran through Dead Head's mind as he fireman-carried the unresponsive (but still breathing) homeless man out of the alley, again passing by Ethan and his dying associate. He dropped him once there (he's unconscious, he's limp, that shouldn't cause any more damage), then dashed over to the two dead frat boys. He moved them so they lay side by side, with enough room between them for him to stand, facing them. He knelt down, and placed one hand on each of their chests. "No breathin'... no pulse... yer gone." He looked up, around -- did he see their spirits, lingering still? Or something grimmer? "This ain't right," he looked down at them again. "Folks die, I know that, 'specially in a place like Bedlam, where life's so cheap. But y'all are so young, as young as I was when I-" His rictus grin contorted into a grimace, a sneer. "No. Not this time." The blue-green flames in his eyes flared, "I can fix this. Really fix this. Just this once. Give these two a chance at a better life, a chance to redeem theyselves." He threw his head back and roared, "Papa! Papa Ghede! Hear me! Do not take these boys yet! Give 'em a chance to atone for their misdeeds! Give me the power, I beg of you!" He looked down again, just above the heads of the two frat boys. The flames in his eyes lashed out towards his hands, wreathing them in the same spectral glow. His hands darted out to the space above the youth's heads, as if grabbing something, then slammed it down into their chests. The flames rolled off his hands and over them, flickered for a moment, then went out. The flames in Dead Head's own eyes also flickered, and he staggered back.

Beginning of Round: Become exhausted from having used Extra Effort last round while fatigued. Reaction: Spend HP to nix that. Still fatigued. Move Action: Carry Homeless Guy out to end of alley. Free Action: Drop 'im. Free Action: Extra Effort to surge to gain another Move Action. Will become exhausted at beginning of next round. Reaction: Spend HP for a Heroic Feat, a new AP off his Necromancy Array. Healing 32 (“C’mon Back Now, Y’Hear”; Extra: Resurrection [up to 32 minutes]; Flaws: Distracting, Limited [Resurrection only], Tiring; Power Feat: Split Attack) {17/17} Full Round Action: Use that new power to resurrect the two dead frat boys. Splitting the ranks equally, so they'll both get a +16 bonus. Now they need to make a CON check, DC 20 -- with the aforementioned bonus. Succeed, they become disabled & unconscious. Fail, and the remain dead & Dead Head can't try again. And I believe splitting it like that means he'll get hit by the Tiring Flaw twice, skipping over exhausted and going straight to unconscious. Grumble sez no, so he just goes to exhausted (but due to his use of extra effort, will become unconscious at beginning of next round). 0 HP, Unharmed, Exhausted (will be Unconscious at beginning of next round).

Dead Head, now fully recapitated, dragged the creature that had been Roberto Hernandez into one of the cells, and clapped his wrists and ankles in silvered manacles. "There, that oughta holdja. Now, just sit tight, I'll be back in a bit with-" he thought briefly about the fridge Strix had mentioned, pondered where it was getting blood from, and decided that was a topic for another time, "with somethin' ta tide ya over." He turned to the zombie guard that had accompanied him. "Captain" Hank Way, a racist & misogynist first lieutenant whose egomania and cowardice got his entire platoon killed during the first year of the Korean War, had managed to smuggle himself back into the States and became a bodyguard for one of the Lodge's former owners. That position did not last long. The demon's claws gouged out the left half of his face and throat; ragged strips of gray flesh clung weakly to his yellowed skull. "I'm goin' up to th' library, got some things ta research. Pass word along ta Strix, he'll wanna hear what I've found." He sent Mutt a similar message, then headed on his way.

"I'm good with either one, but if I'm gonna sneak inta th' county courthouse, I'll need t'check the want ads first." Merge might assume he meant to check for any job openings or internship positions there... which might work for some, but certainly not someone looking like he did. Strix, however, knew 'want ads' was how he referred to the obituary section of the newspapers, though he wasn't exactly sure how that would help him in this case. "Or I can go scare up some answers. Oh," he slapped Strix's chest with the back of his hand, "or we could do a 'good cop, bad cop' number on 'em!"

"Hoo, ain't had t'work like this in a while," he muttered as he lifted the dead frat boy in a fireman's carry. He turned and dashed as fast as his tireless legs would carry him -- nowhere near as fast as Strix, but enough to qualify for the Olympics (I could never pass their drug tests, though) -- speeding past Ethan, his dying friend, and the unconscious homeless man, to the other end of the alley. He saw three of the other lads there. Two were still panicked and fleeing as fast as they could, the other lay on the ground, uncomfortably still for someone on fire. At a glance, he knew he was dead. "Sonuva..." He lay the lad down, and dashed back into the alley, towards the homeless man. As he hefted him up, he felt something trying to worm its way into his mind. "Whatever ya are," he said aloud, "ya should know it's hard t'probe a dead brain. But I'll be happy t'talk with ya, after I get these folks saved."

Will save 1d20+10: 22 [1d20=12] Yeah, no, that ain't happening. Beginning of Round: Become fatigued from having used Extra Effort last round. I'm gonna take it. Move Action: Pick up Frat Boy #2. Move Action (partial): Move ~50 feet to other end of alley Free Action: Drop Frat Boy #2 next to the other three rat Boys at the end of the alley, see Frat Boy #4 is also dead. Move Action (cont'd): Move ~25 feet to Homeless Guy. Free Action: Extra Effort to surge to get another Move action. Move Action: Pick up Homeless Guy. 2 HP, Unharmed but Fatigued, will be Exhausted at beginning of next round.

REANIMATED by Fox A slight change for Dead Head: please change the AP on his "Undead Body" power from this AP: Leaping 1 (tireless limbs; x2: running long jump 34 ft., standing long jump 17 ft., high/vertical jump 8 ft.) {1} plus Speed 2 (tireless limbs; 25 mph) {2} plus Super-Strength 1 (tireless limbs; effective STR 29 [Heavy Load: 1,400 lbs.]) {2} {1+2+2=5/5} to this AP: Speed 1 (tireless limbs; 10 mph) {1} plus Super-Strength 2 (tireless limbs; effective STR 34 [Heavy Load: 2,800 lbs.]) {4} {1+4=5/5} This would cause a change to one of his Combat scores, from this Grapple: +16, +17 w/ Shovel or Tireless Limbs, +18 w/ both to this Grapple: +16, +17 w/ Shovel, +18 w/ Tireless Limbs, +19 w/ both Thanks!

Another thought crossed his mind. Inwardly, he smiled. He shrugged slightly, "I can't say how long I'd need. Nor, really, how long the journey will be, given all the things that could happen out there. We could get sucked through a wormhole and spat out into another galaxy, kidnapped and enslaved -- I'd really rather not go through that again -- or the ship could suffer some damage and we'd be stranded on another planet -- another thing I'd rather not go through again." He chuckled again, bittersweet, remembering their time off-world during the Incursion. Then he looked at her, and his heart melted again, "no, no, I'm glad you volunteered; I was going to ask you anyway, I was just having a difficult time figuring out how. Solitude is good, but too much can be harmful. Besides," he reached up to caress her cheek, "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share the wonders of space with than you." As she sat back, Penny made her mild irritation known. Viktor slid his hand down her arm and across her hand, squeezed it, then withdrew so he could give the Lady of the Apartment another round of two-handed deep tissue massage. He smirked at her admission, "sneaking off on your own, eh?" He laughed, this time fully joyful, "how wonderful! How far did you get? Oh, ah, it can go about as fast as the Pegasus-class spaceplanes Daedalus built for the League. A cruising speed of near-light speed, so it can reach Pluto in about, oh, six hours. At maximum, it can reach Pluto in a few seconds, and about twelve hours to reach Alpha Centauri. To reach the Andromeda Galaxy would take... about seven centuries. But!," he quickly added, "I've a few ideas on some improvements. So, how's that compare to your speeds?"

"Oh ho! I think I see where you are going with this!" He waved his hands, and a softly glowing holographic screen appeared between them. Using his finger as a pen laser, he sketched out a length of chains, with a large sphere on one end. He jotted down measurements and other notes, schematics of what the inside of the ball would look like. He asked the young man for feedback and preferences at several points -- length, thickness, what shape(s) the head should be. After about ten minutes of work, he had a completed design. "It can stretch out to about four times its original length, change substance along with you, and has some limited shapeshifting abilities: the links can sprout barbs, and the head can also become spiked, or flatten out to become a razor-sharp disc." "It'll take me about two days to make it. Well," he tilted his head slightly, "day and a half, I think. Most of that time will be just making enough of the material, the actual knitting part should take just a few hours. I could have it ready for you... Sunday, around lunch time." He nodded and smiled. It felt good to be helping someone, and working on a new project.

"The experiments here, father, they," he quickly looked to Dalekos, to make sure his attention was elsewhere, "they seemed to be working out a way to turn Deep Ones -- adults and children -- back into Atlanteans. Something called 'Project: Rebirth.' A noble goal, certainly, but... but..." Another glance back, "from the notes I've found, I have a suspicion that Laertes was using the children here -- his own children! -- as a part of the process. And another thing: Dalekos said one of the marks they'd left was the Lemurian word for 'victory,' but it wasn't, it was their word for 'justice.' I think that's why the Deep Ones struck: not just another raid, but a retaliation." Another quick glance back, "what did you find? What's in that chamber? And if this is a medical experiment, why did they not call mother in? Were they concerned she'd figure it all out?"

The cord did not turn into a length of flesh, much to Facsimile's -- and Archeville's -- relief, but rather reverted back to the kevlar-y, spandex-y material it was originally. The 'chain' of morphic molecule cords changed, link by link, into the same rubber as his hand. It went smoothly, and felt easy -- the few times he'd changed other objects, there was a bit of a struggle, and even more heat, but with these, there was none at all. It's like they wanted to change along with him! Archeville looked on, and was smiling. "Ah, look at that!" He picked up the dangling end of rubber links and held it up at eye level, "I knew this would work! And since these are a fiber, they can be woven or knitted into almost anything. It could be a belt, or a scarf, and then," he dropped the chain and clapped his hands sharply, "a chain of metal, or stone, or whatever!"

His eyes went a bit wide when she mentioned the possibility of Afareen missing out on her grandchild's entry to the world. "Oof, I can only imagine -- and dread to think what she'd say to me!" He let out a nervous laugh, "so I wasn't planning on it being anywhere near as long as Daedalus & Pseudo's trip -- that was eighteen years! My original plan was for something like on that show, a five year journey." Memories of them watching and laughing at old sci fi shows from the 1960s, and the 1990s sequels, flashed in his mind. "But I've been leaning more towards an idea you'd suggested, a series of month-long trips rather than one multi-year journey. It would slow exploration down, yes, but it would be safer. And the regular check-ins may put certain people more at ease with the idea of us being out there." Left unsaid was his hope that such an arrangement could mean fewer commutes for her, and more time together. He chuckled at her assessment of him, "well, I have had a lot of time to think about this particular existential horror, so I guess familiarity breeds... tedium? But, yes, that is my understanding, as Phantom explained it to me -- I was both mother and midwife to a spawn of a Nameless One!" He chuckled again, weaker this time.

"That's good! The soreness will subside, and your powers will grow, and eventually you'll be able to shift more quickly without any discomfort! Maybe even work out that 'turn into two distinct materials simultaneously' thing, without becoming ill! Of course, we don't want to overdo it, so whenever you need to take a breather, just let me know. I've got more ginger ale, and water, or I can whip up something with more electrolytes." As Facsimile examined the cord, Archeville began tying the others into loops. "That's morphic molecules, not moronic," he laughed. The cord in Facsimile's hand became metal, "even though they're not exactly the same as what the Atom Family uses, I doubt they'd take kindly to such a misnaming. Ah, good, good, that seems to have changed as smoothly as the hand that's holding it. Okay, now try this," he tossed him what he'd been working on, a short chain of morphic molecule loops.

He felt that strength, and it fortified him. Being able to stand up for oneself is all well and good, but knowing someone else has your back, that's a marvelous feeling. I will do all in my power to prove worthy of your faith, Mona. And I pledge my all to you. He smiled and kissed her hand before she withdrew it, and moved one of his hands back to Penny's head. He nodded, "well, I'm still loading the craft -- I only just got the generators integrated, and there's a lot to move from storage -- but you're right, not too many changes. There'll already be an advanced medical bay, and sleeping quarters. And the databanks containing some of Earth's cultural and scientific knowledge, for use in exchanges with any friendly aliens we meet, could also be used for educational purposes. Though that wouldn't be a concern for some years!," he laughed. "You do bring up a good point on timing, though. Since we would be facing so many variables just in getting to the point of having a child to hold, should we delay the trip until after, to increase the odds of a safe pregnancy and insure that they are considered a citizen of Earth? There has been some research already on pregnancies might work out in space or other planets, how microgravity might affect things, though the ship would have artificial gravity so that part shouldn't be a concern." Part of him didn't like the idea of delaying the trip any longer, but another part saw the wisdom in it. He was reasonably certain he could handle anything with what he'd planned to take with them, but might it be better to now have to take those factors into account at all? "Hrm?," her question broke his reverie. "Oh, well, yes. I'm sorry, I was sure I had explained that part to you." He took a sip of his coffee, "as Phantom explained it to me, the 'parent' of that thing was a chaotic, malevolent entity known as a Nameless One. There are many such beings, and there have been many mad cults dedicated to such beings -- the Deep Ones seem especially prone to doing so -- despite how utterly alien and unknowable their thoughts and motives are. It's difficult to tell if they're even aware of us; if they are, they give us no more thought than a person does a bacteria. In other words," he took another sip, "when they do look our way, it's to wipe us out, disinfecting a place before moving in. When I -- when it -- went back in time, and saved my ancestor Vischer with grafts from those Deep Ones, some part of their Nameless One patron also slipped in. This created a new entity -- the one that had lurked in my family, gestating, hoping from Archeville to Archeville, until it was finally born through me. It was akin to a Nameless One, but because it was bound to both my family's flesh and our name, it became anchored in this dimension, gaining a stronger foothold, and slipping past The Pact, which usually keeps things like that out." He finished his coffee, "I've not studied magic or the supernatural to any appreciable degree -- which Phantom says may have been due to its influence, making me distrust that which could have detected and exorcised it from me before it had fully manifest -- but from what little I have read since then, it sounds like a solid hypothesis." Some of this did sound familiar to Mona -- he had gone over parts of this with her, in broad strokes, but not all.

ENCHANTED by TT Please add the following power to Artificer: Quickness 4 ("multitasker", x25; Flaw: Limited [Mental Tasks Only]) [2PP] (Descriptor: Training) This will leave him with 1pp unspent.

"Hunh. That was... disappointing. Not completely unexpected, though. But," he clapped his hands, "this is how we learn, yes? And you were not injured by that, were you? Not in any pain? You seem to be doing okay, but of course I want to hear it from you." A few of the green beetle-bots scuttled up and swept up the dust and flakes at Facsimile's feet, then quickly scurried back to wherever they'd come from. "I may have an idea on something that would work, though." He began rummaging through crates, teleporting about the hangar as he searched. "I know I still have some, but the robots keep moving the crates... no... no... ah- wait, no... ah, yes, here it is!" He teleported back to Facsimile, holding about a dozen lengths of braided cloth cords. "These are made of an adaptive metamaterial, similar to what the Atom Family uses in their costumes. They can adapt to a wearer's abilities, so these should change along with you, with no degradation." He handed him one, "here, give it a try."

He was utterly silent as she spoke. He focused affectionately with technorganic eyes on her attentively, desperately listening to every word she said, thinking about it at superhuman speeds, amassing that information, remembering every little thing, thinking about body language, how she moved, what kind of energies her body was emitting. A few moments after she'd finished, he exhaled. "I would not have blamed you if you'd left. Well, no, I would have, at first, but eventually I would have accepted it, understood why." Another moment of silence, "the worst thing about what happened to me, was that the thing that took over was not a completely independent entity. It came from one, yes, but once that had mingled with my ancestor, a new thing was created, feeding off of and feeding into all the darkest parts of his psyche. And so it did with his descendants, with my grandfather, my father, and me. It was formed from the memories of the lowest, darkest moments of our lives, shaped to fit perfectly in the holes in our hearts. Of my life, and my heart." Penny nudge his arm, but he ignored her, "I know we are all capable of great evil, and of great good. That we all have darker aspects to our psyches. And that's what that thing was -- me, on my worst day." "But I know a person is not who they are on their worst day. Or on their best. They are all those things, combined. Which is on reason I have worked so hard to be better, to prove I can be better." He sighed, wiped a tear from his eye, "sorry, I slip into explain-and-apologize mode so easily. So, yes. A child. We're going to try for a- hrm. This will require some modifications to the Synthia Bower."

So a few weeks ago in chat I floated the idea of Dead Head using his "animate dead" ability on a wrecked motorcycle, "reanimating" it. (Or maybe he tries reanimating/resurrecting someone, but It Goes Wrong and instead their spirit is bound to their bike?) He already dresses like a biker who was in a bad crash, so why not?! It'd need a sidecar (for Mutt), so that'd probably call for an increase in STR. Might increase Speed. Would definitely increase Toughness. Features? Autopilot could fit. Powers? Insubstantial, so it can be like some types of ghost ship? Super-Movement (Wall-Crawling), so it can ride up buildings? Regeneration, like Christine?

"Apologies, your highness," he remained bowed, "but I am no soldier. I am apprentice to Xyles Ambrosio Stylianos," he turned his head slightly towards him, "my father." Thaelia was familiar with the name Stylianos. Their family had produced many gifted mechano-mages, instrumental in helping recover and maintain Atlantean technology and infrastructure. "I am honored and proud to be so, and-" he finally straightened up and looked Thaelia's way, but saw Dalekos was already addressing her. And then Dalekos addressed him. "Eh? Oh! Er, well, that is, sir... as I just said, I am no soldier, and am ill-suited for such activity. I have, of course, undergone basic military training for my age cohort, and am eager to serve Atlantis to the best of my ability. It's just that... my best abilities are more suited to providing materiel, not using it. I do not know what help I could be out there... but I am certain I could be useful here, with my father, working on restoring what was damaged in the attack." And perhaps uncovering proof of what was done here.

Yeah, yeah, once things settle you an' I can play show an' tell. Bring 'em all down, I should be able t'move that much mass at once. An' his name is Mutt. He contacted Mutt, asked about Esteban, then filled him in on what he'd seen and what Strix had told him. So ya say there's someone else there with Lady Horus? Great! Leave th' kid with her, you an' Lady H c'mon down to th' Lodge, we'll see what there is t'do 'bout these folks. -- Mutt was on the bed, at Esteban's feet. He perked up suddenly, turned to Esperanza, "Where's Lady Horus? Need to take her. To Lodge. For meeting. About vampires." -- "So, Hernandez: what happened to ya, man?" The headless body maintained its grip, "I know it weren't no animal what bit ya. Who was it, what'd they look like?"