Dr Archeville

"Yes," Archeville exclaimed, "take us to your leader!" Once down and marching, Archeville split his time between sending brief text messages to Delta and chatting up the apes. "We heard much of Lord Urghrghu, of Lord Uplift! Hear he make dumb animals smart, make four-legs walk on two, make plants bite like jaguar! Want to see," he glanced back at Delta and the two WEST agents, then back to the lead ape, "maybe even helping! Can you tell what big-science thing he working on now?" >Delta, are your sensors picking up anything useful? How are Henry and Cortez holding up?<

"Thanks, folks," he replied cheerily, "seems I lost my own group. They must've gone inside already -- I'm sure I'll meet 'em once I get in. Pleased t'metcha Jenny," he took her hand in both of his so hers wouldn't shake too much, "name's Burt. Aw, this?" He removed one hand from hers and fanned his face, "'t'ain't nothin' special -- got it at a party much like this'un! Cost an arm an' a leg, though, an' as good as it looks," he grasped her hand with both of his again, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I honestly cain't recommend it. But, hey," his voice ramped up again, "yer outfit's great! All'a y'all's! An' I hope y'all have a really good time t'night!" He eyed the doorman, looking for any signs of the supernatural forces which had drawn him here. Hey, Mutt, he thought towards his canine companion, you make it over yet? See anythin'?

The arc of energy grazed Davyd's shoulder, but he barely noticed -- he instead saw the thickest part of the arc was heading straight for both Lulu's illusory doppelganger and her mostly-concealed self! "No!" His body responded in a flash, leaping to shield her with his body. He even puffed up slightly to insure that his form provided an adequate barrier for her protection. He took the full force of the blast, thickening the skin and fat along his back to better resist it, and tried to hide his grimace of pain as a comforting smile. It passed quickly, and he was relieved to see everyone still standing. Now it was time to go on the offensive. The fried flesh at his back peeled away, revealing a dark green chitinous breastplate underneath. His flesh kept peeling away, and clawed insectoid limbs pulled out, as if he were removing a pair of horrible pants and cardigan sweater. The back of Davyd's head split open, and a fanged, spider-eyed horror lunged out, hissing and gnashing at the brunette 'agent' that had shot at them. His shredded flesh, rather than falling off, continued rolling back to his hips, braiding together and darkening into a lashing crocodilian tail.

He made a soft hrm sound, "indeed. Congratulations, by the way," he added, voice growing warmer, "to both of you." He paused, not quite sure how much she would want to reveal about personal matters, when her next question gave him something else to focus on. "'Repair' is as good a word as any," he said with a soft chuckle, "and, yes, I have. Thankfully most of the 'supplements' I require, while unusual or even toxic to most humans, aren't that exotic or hard to come by -- they're the sort of things one would find in any decent electronics workshop. A bigger challenge has been finding a way to get over the taste!" He chuckled softly again, "the medicines you need the most often taste the worst, yes?" He took another sip of his coffee, "but this has lead to more experimenting in the kitchen, finding ways to mask their bitter aftertastes." He opened his mouth to say something else -- a joke about not mixing up the salts at the next dinner party he hosted -- but paused. "I have been stockpiling the things I need," he began, his voice shifting to a more measured, even tone, "because of my loss of contacts among suppliers, but also because of a future plan I am considering. On one hand, it could be a very dangerous thing, which would require no small amount of courage on my part. On the other hand," he let out a slow sigh, "I am concerned it's just another way for me to be ignoring my problems, running from them, like a coward. I've not even mentioned this idea to anyone, kept it to myself," he cocked his head slightly to one side, "which I'm aware has been a problem. So, I'm going to share this with you, because I would appreciate your judgment and advice." Another deep breath, "I'm thinking of going to space. Deep space, beyond our solar system. Exploring uncharted areas."

To be clear, Dok is switching from his Enhanced WIS to his Enhanced CHA, the better to schmooze them with! Diplomacy check? Or Bluff? They're both the same for him. 1d20+6: 21 [1d20=15] Not bad!

Archeville's mind raced to process the new language. 'Gruuur'... third person referent? They're a hunting party, after some sort of dinosaur for their Lord, both for sustenance and 'big science'. And they are anthropophagous, but they weren't expecting to find us. They may respond more readily to physical threats, which Delta seems to be covering well, but it may be wise to try a two-pronged approach. The German genius closed his eyes a moment and concentrated, first sending a quick text message to Delta. >Bad Cop/Good Cop act?< Then, using his meta-awareness of his own thought processes, he switched from focusing on the more defensive and introspective intrapersonal intelligence he'd been running to a more active, influential interpersonal intelligence. The blood rushing to his head made it a bit more difficult than usual, even with his internal nanites working to counter the damage, and using the tiniest fraction of his gravity-manipulating abilities to counter the effects of gravity's pull. When his eyes snapped open again, he was, in some ways, a new man. "No, not on Gruuur menu," Archeville's rich tenor voice rang out, smooth and confident, "but come to see mighty Gruuur, and Lord Urghrghu! We hear of your might, and his big science, come to see wonders! I am..." he quickly weighed the possible outcomes of giving his name to these beings, in case this 'Lord Ughhrghu' was the scientist responsible for these strange goings-on and had mentioned his name in some rant or another, and decided on some simple monosyllabic pseudonyms, "am Science Lord Vha. These are my allies, SWAT Del," he pointed to Delta, "Serj Mac," he pointed to the machete-wielding Sgt. Henry, "and Science Lady Tez," he indicated Doctor Cortez. "We work together, make big-big science, yes?"

TA Edited And one tiny edit request for Horrorshow -- to have this added between his FEATS and POWERS section: Enhanced Feats Accurate Attack (from "Battle Shifting") All-Out Attack (from "Battle Shifting") Attack Focus (Melee) 3 (from "Fluid Fighter) Challenge (Intimidate/Startle at Move Action) (from "Horrific Transformation) Defensive Attack (from "Battle Shifting") Dodge Focus 2 (from "Fluid Fighter) Instant Up (from "Battle Shifting") Power Attack (from "Battle Shifting")

Hokay... Free Action: switch "Metamorphic Body" to "Chitinous Horror" form. Free Action: use "Horrific Transformation" Enhanced Feat/Skills. Move Action: Set Shapeshift to Additional Limbs 1 (lashing tail) {1/5} Leaping 2 (x5 -- running long jump 90 feet, standing long jump 45 feet, high/vertical jump 22 feet) {2/5} Speed 2 (25 mph, or 250 feet per round) {2/5} Move Action: Attempt to Intimidate/Startle the Brunette Time Agent that shot at us. 1d20+9: 29 [1d20=20] \o/

Another Feature to consider for the place: Dual Size. For the "has more rooms than the outside dimensions indicate" thing, and "this hallway should not be this long" bit. "The basement is /how/ big?!"

Dead Head gave the scene a last quick look, waiting for a large group of party-goers. Ideally, ones that had already started drinking, and so wouldn't immediately notice -- or, at least, not immediately object to -- another body joining them. "If'n I'm gonna pass as another college kid, it'll be easier t'do with a group. An' as fer you," he looked down to the empty-seeming space beside him, "you can g'on ahead an' trot through the wall there," he pointed to a spot about 30 feet from the gate, "an' scout 'round the yard. We'll meet up when I get through, an' enter th' house together. Sound good?" ~Boof~ "I know, I know," he replied, "I'm not gonna try to scare anyone. Not yet, at least." At that moment, a group of five partygoers rounded the corner, heading for the gate. Dead Head stood, brushed off his clothes -- black leather jacket over a one-size-too-small white tee shirt, worn but mostly intact blue jeans, and a pair of very well-worn black Doc Martens -- and sauntered out to join the group.

Noooo! Reaction: I would like to use Horrorshow's 1 Hero Point to gain the Interpose feat, so he can dive to shield unarmored!Lulu! Toughness save 1d20+12: 30 [1d20=18] YEAH!

"Ooh, the greenhouse could be f-" he started to say, but then Leroy had to say that about his own father. And then Lulu replied, and he was struck silent a moment. Wow... so passionate and eloquent... Corinne's words brought him out of his reverie. "Oh, uh, yeah, that makes sense, yeah." He turned to face her, "is there anyone on staff that could teach shapeshifting? I know it's not a common ability, or one that gets a lot of good will, what with the Grue." He remembered well the horrors of the latest "Gruevasion," the monsters terrorizing the streets. "Or... maybe whoever is teaching you about your powers could help me? I know it's not the same, but they're kinda the same... sorta...?" "Hey, wait," he turned back to Leroy, "so," he said, scratching his head, "you're named after your uncle?"

I don't think the Midnighters were actually that well-known (I'm not sure Strix would've ever heard of them), and wasn't together for that long (or, rather, we didn't do that much together as a group), so I don't think there'd be a problem using the name. It may even be appropriate, seeing as how a former member (Dead Head) may be there at the start of this venture. But I do also like the name "Twilight Lodge." (If not for SHADOW, I'd say we could go with "The Penumbral Lodge," penumbra = the partially shaded outer region of a shadow, reflecting how the people in the club are in/of the dark dark but not completely lost to their darkness. Lounge Lasombra?) I'm think Greely would make the most sense. Strix can fly, Strix & Tattered man are super fast, and Dead Head can teleport, so I don't think distance is too big a factor.

He accepted the cup with a smile, then held it in one hand as he used the other to retrieve a small glass vial from an interior coat pocket. He flipped open the top with his thumb and sprinkled some of the contents -- a silvery blue powder -- into the drink, then returned the vial to his pocket and began to slowly stir. "Powdered gallium," he said, answering Americana's unspoken question while still focused on the swirls of dark brown and white in his cup, "one of several 'nutritional supplements' my new body requires." "And yes," here he looked up from his cup to her, looking her directly in the eyes, voice still calm, but with a bit of warmth coming through, "I understand completely. I do. You did what you had to, under unfathomable difficulties. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised you still kept the name... though I suppose 'AmericanaTech' would go against the 'international chain unconnected to any one government' aspect of the company." He chuckled once, nervously. He took a few sips of his coffee, closing his eyes so he could focus momentarily on the sensation, but they snapped back open at her next words. "I'm surprised -- though glad -- to hear that you're receiving therapy for your own issues. Did my... incident lead to a raised awareness of emotional and mental health issues among the superhero community?" He knew superhero-ing was a stressful life, but, like so many people, few sought out professional help dealing with those stresses or the problems that could arise from them. "I suppose that could be one silver lining."

Archeville took another look around the space, then sat in one of the offered Comfy Chairs. "Coffee, please," he replied, a bit uneasy, "with a dollop of whipped cream if you have it. I hear Keurig's making some improvements, mainly in the pods," he said, trying for some semblance of small talk. "Reaching out to more restaurants to carry their blends, making their own. Though there are of course some inherent limitations to the machine itself." He glanced around again, at once feeling more comfortable for being in such an ultra-tech place, and less comfortable for knowing he was in someone else's lab, someone whom he'd betrayed. Well, it was more complicated than that, which made it even more awkward. He remembered when he had first revealed his new technorganic form to Miss Americana, and the thoughts they'd both had about advances it could present for her work in prosthetics. I wonder if she continued exploring those paths? "I figured you would," he replied at last, "you, and a few others. Again, I am sorry for taking so long in getting in touch with you." He sat still as a statue, hands neatly folded in his lap, "I truly am impressed with all you've done with ArcheTech. Glad, too. I know so man counted on it, and I'm glad that they can continue their work."

Davyd felt more than heard the greeting Daphne sent him, though he wasn't sure what it was, and would later attribute the sensation to teenage hormones. Either he didn't have enough Grue DNA to intercept the message, or that DNA was for whatever reason inactive. But Davyd was not thinking about DNA at the moment. Well, a part of him may have been thinking about reproductive materials, but in a far less clinical manner. "Related?," he managed to say, deforming a bit more than should be possible under her hug. "You are from Ukraine?" Then he heard (distantly) Lynn's bit about Daphne being a mentor to the young shapeshifter. "Oh, you're a Chernobyl Baby, too?," he exclaimed as she released him. "I did not know there were any more in Freedom! So you can shape-" He stopped abruptly when he saw Lynn change into the fierce fey Grimalkin. "Oh, wow! I- Team Shifty?"

Hells yes, I am all for this. Yes, there was a group called the Midnighters, Dead Head was a member, along with Arcturus, Atlas, Avenger, Changeling, Nick Cimitiere, Crow, Equinox, Ghost Girl, Hellion, Kid Cthulhu, Phantom, Rene de Saens, maybe one or two others. IIRC, we never got much chance to do a lot together, and then we just sorta fizzled out. Also, they had a shared haunted HQ, Parkhurst Hotel. Which we got from ghost-busting. Dead Head could be the one to float the idea to Strix, once he gets to Bedlam, or at least help Strix solidify the idea that's already starting to form in his mind. He could certainly help with wrangling undead (love the "working off some karmic debt" angle), and convincing the genius loci of the building to let them stay.

"Well, well, well, this is an interestin' development," a shadow-wrapped figure across the street muttered, seemingly to himself. "Looks like th' trail leads to some kinda party. An' I know better'n most what a pow'rful bad combination mystical energies an' partyin' college kids can be." ~Ruff~ a friendly voice barked in his mind. "Rough indeed, A Mutt ol' pal, rough indeed." The Revoltin' Revenant stroked his chin in thought, "an' rougher still, figurin' out how t'get in. You got it easy, " he remarked, glancing down at his incorporeal, invisible spirit dog, "a handsome mutt like you can get in anywhere. But me..." He paused, watching the slow but steady stream of young adults in Goth attire enter the foreboding manor. "Hrm. This might not be that difficult, if'n I can play my cards right. I mean, I can still pass fer early 20s, yeah?" A Mutt cocked his head quizzically. ~Ruff?~

Alright, let's give the PL 10 one a go.

From the autopsy WEST's technicians had performed, he knew these primates -- if they were indeed similar to the ones on the slab -- were capable of human-level sapience and vocal communication. What their language was, was another matter. Would it be the same as whomever had introduced Darwin X to them? Something similar, yet altered by their isolation? Or something altogether different, the result of some completely new linguistic evolutionary path, as distinct as the beings which spoke it? Would it incorporate gestures, from the hands or their prehensile feet, facial expressions, posture, as standard chimpanzee communication does? Archeville felt giddy at the prospect of witnessing an entirely new language... or perhaps that was just the blood rushing to his head. Keep them talking, he thought.

"Rougher than anticipated," he replied, smiling weakly, "but not as bad as I'd feared. I was able to meet with one of the Interceptors, which went quite well. And I met with some members of the League, which went... less well, though it was painfully necessary." He did not volunteer details at the moment, as he did not particularly want to recall his recent Deep One-induced PTSD attack, but he knew he might be pressed on the matter. "I've also visited a variety of businesses that suffered during my... episode, and made considerable donations to them," his holodisguise cycled through a variety of settings, mostly tourists of varying European origins, "all anonymously, of course." The disguise settled back to his Viktor Archeville form, "I'm still not sure about showing my face," then he dropped it completely, revealing his true technorganic nature, "or this one."

The incident at FCU which gave Davyd his powers happened less than three weeks ago. In the time he'd seen many things, things unusual even for a native of Freedom. He'd been sent back in time, met a dragon (in the present, not the past), and even fought an actual supervillain. None of which prepared him for what he saw next. ... bwuh... Seeing Lynn & Daphne and Davyd together would be a study in contrasts. While Lynn & Daphne stood out, Davyd practically blended in, wearing very simple, unadorned clothing that was the same utilitarian beige as the hall they were in. His hair was somewhere between blonde and brown, somewhere between long and short, kept in a simple style. He was a bit stocky, though it was hard to tell if that was from fat or muscle. His face was round and limbs were long, not unpleasant but also not terribly memorable. He was, in short, a perfectly average looking student. "... am Davyd, yes," he finally stammered out. "Ah, I mean," he cleared his throat and extended his hand to Lynn, "yes, I am Davyd. You... um... why?"

Horrorshow hasn't taken on his "Chitinous Horror" form yet, so no Impervious on his Toughness! 1d20+12: 21 [1d20=9] \o/

"Thank you very much," he replied, remembering the building from when he had initially checked her background before hiring her, "I'll see you at nine." He clicked off his phone, leaned back, and focused on his breathing for a moment. That went alright, all things considered. Glad I'll get to see her tonight. That will give me time to check a few other things off my list. And so Viktor Archeville visited several small locally-owned shoppes and cafes, buying small trinkets or snacks from each, and leaving colossal tips with each purchase. All were businesses that had been damaged during the ArchEvil event, which had for one reason or another not been able to fully recover from the destruction. He did all this in disguise, never letting on who he was. Showing his face would lead to too many questions. At 9:00:00pm, at the gate to the parking lot of Diligence Way, a figure appeared. That is, he literally appeared, stepping out of a blue-grey portal that manifested and dissipated in an instant. If Miss Americana had any sensors that could detect alterations in gravity, they'd be pinging now as one of Doktor Archeville's wormholes dropped the errant & erratic genius off at her door parking lot.

It didn't take a genius to pick up on what was left unsaid, but being one didn't hurt. I do hope that receptionist doesn't get too chatty with the wrong people. "Of course, of course," he readily agreed, knowing the space she spoke of, "whatever you think is best. Is now good? Or later? I honestly had not expected to be able to meet with you today, so if you have something else which requires your attention now, I can come over at whatever time is convenient for you." He leaned back a bit in the bench he was sitting in, in a small park not far from ArcheTech. Not many people were out -- it was in the mid-40s, and a light rain was due in that afternoon -- which left him with some solitude, even before factoring in his concealing coat and hat, and the holodisguise he had under that. He'd sat there for a good while before making his call, listening to the faint chirps of birds and other signs of spring returning to the city. A time of growth and renewal, which seemed a good time for his return.