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Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Arrowhawk took a step forward, rolling her shoulders casually, ignoring those surrounding her. She didn't much care for forgotten gods and slumbering heroes and valkyries. The squirrel she did remember, though. "Don't needle me, poultry. If Odin yet does not understand why I'd be driven to Loki over him, perhaps I could rip out his other eye and hang him from another tree." She glared at the bird's beady black eyes, jaw clenched hard, looming over it. Bending a little to meet its gaze, she briefly resembled a great bird herself, great wing-like cape draped over her, eyes glaring out from her dark cowl. Upon the revelation of the serpent's activities, she backed away a couple of steps from looming over the avian, and turned to gesture at Thrude with one hand. "And why do you require us? The serpent? Surely this is a labour for her father!" A bitter laugh rang out from her. "Has Odin seen fit to return his hammer to him yet?"
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Doktor'd! Edits for Oslahawk Her armour is now illegal; substitute her Second Chance on Toughness saves vs piercing to Toughness save vs conventional blades, i.e. Device 1 (5PP Container, Flaws: Hard to Lose [-1]) [4PP] (Arrowhawk Costume) Protection 3 (Feats: Second Chance [Toughness save vs bullet damage], Second Chance [Toughness save vs conventional blades]) [5PP] (armour) Also of her 11 unspent pp, put 1pp into skills, allocated as follows: 4 ranks of Intimidate, increasing it to Intimidate 12 (+14)
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Down the slope from the assembled group, the air crackled for a moment and suddenly split asunder. The edges of the crack in the air were muted rainbow light, like a dimmed Bifrost. Broken splinters of wood and tufts of shredded feathers fluttered down for a second, before boots thudded down onto the slope and the hole closed with the sound of cracking ice. The woman walked up the slope, seemingly unconcerned about the assembly of oddballs and animals before her. She wore a strange mix of modern tactical gear and visibly Asgardian battle garb, carbide strike plates and clawed gauntlets, cloak of a synthetic blend and boots of doe leather and scalemail. An axe and quiver hung from her belt, and she held a bow in one hand. From beneath her hood and mask, two piercingly blue eyes glared up at the group. "And here I thought I was the only one foolish enough to answer the call of he who sits 'pon his throne toying with his spear," laughed Arrowhawk in English, before her eyes flicked over the two ravens. "<I see he has sent his pheasants. Ignorance. Amnesia,>" she greeted them in old Norse, not laughter in her words or eyes even as her lips still grinned.
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Galvanic took flight, following after the group. "Is there nearby civilisation?" she asked, spinning in the air to get her bearings, electricity coruscating around her. She pivoted her head from side to side, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. But then, everything seemed strange after leaving Tempest. "We could returnget home, if we found advanced enough technology. Otherwise..." she trailed off, letting the implication of a 3000 year wait sink in.
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Arrowhawj barely blanched as the draugr's flesh and bone reknitted, until it stood before them. She took one step towards it, eyes narrowing. "You get one. But you should go to your rest. Hel is always looking for new followers." She spun on her heel, whipping her cloak around her and beginning to walk away, not wanting to have to deal with what passed for a constabulary in these parts. "The police are on their way. We should disperse, they never take kindly to our kind," she said in clipped tones.
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Arrowhawk put a hand on her side, weapons clattering onto the asphalt as she drew in a slow ragged breath, shaking her head the whole while. "It's always been like this. You just did not notice." She took a few steps over towards the body of the draugr, lying with the stake impaled through it. "But he will not get back up from this. Your Stoker had the right idea. The stake. The decapitation. The fire. It is the way of such things. The way to consign them to Helheim." She bowed her head, masking her face beneath her cowl before her hand grasped at the broken nightstick. And abruptly yanked it out of the carcass.
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Arrowhawk growled, rolling forwards in one swift motion, the car passing barely an inch behind her as she surged towards the bizarre being, still off guard from having staked the draugr. "You'll regret that," she promised, using the momentum as she sprang to her feet to come up, driving her hand down with a hammer blow, using the axe handle as additional weight to the punch. The other followed with an upper cut, pursuing the two punches with a practiced front kick. It barely seemed to faze the officer. Shaking her head, she quickly pivoted before the thing could recover, scything her axe down in a swift blow to the creature's head. "This is just unnatural."
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Reflex save: 1d20+10 21 Osla makes it. Standard Action: Osla is going to punch and kick the Officer; Power Attacking for 2 makes it Attack +8, DC 23: Punchy punchy: 1d20+8 20 Extra Effort: SURGE Standard Action #2: Osla is going to hit him with her axe; Power Attacking for 2 makes it Attack +8, DC 25: Slashy slashy: 1d20+8 9 ... Hero Point SLASHY SLASHY: 1d20+8 17 + 10 for the reroll for a 19 to hit, that's 27.
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Galvanic didn't even flinch as the air vanished from the airlock, just casually extending an electrical field around and through herself, floating up above the vertical plane as if it was nothing. Her long coat swished to and fro as she glided towards the exit of the ship. Glancing back at the others, she smirked for a brief moment. This was what she did, and she didn't need to tell any of them that. With a flicker of blue light crackling, she leapt into space and flew towards the anomaly, rapidly moving through space like it was nothing to her.
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Galvanic had been listening at the back, one leg crossed over the other as she slumped back in a chair, looking thoughtful. Her face screwed up in deliberation, after a while, she raised one finger in the air, leaning forward and speaking slowly at first. "Perhaps... a fewsome us could just go there?" She eased herself forward in her seat, balls of her feet on the ground as if ready to spring into action. "Fast waymeans of verifying the sensors." She shrugged, the motion ruffling her long coat. "Need to go in anyway."
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So sorry, didn't realise I was holding us up OOC Gather Information: skill mastery is 25. Investigate: 1d20+15 34
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Seeing the wounds knit almost instantly, Arrowhawk growled, taking a couple of quick steps towards Officer Friendly, swinging her axe in a wide arc. She brought it crashing into the inhuman creature's neck, hauling hard. But the creature had preternatural strength, reaching up with its free hand. Even occupied with grasping the Tattered Man, it managed to easily throw her off, sending her staggering back a couple of steps to round back on him. Her eyes flicked here and there, taking in their makeshift battleground. "Where is his car? The," she spat out a string of guttural curse words in her native tongue, "damned thing hit me! Where have you stowed it?"
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Arrowhawk will: Notice check: 1d20+10 25 Move Action: Come up behind Officer Friendly. Standard Action: Mimic his action using her axe to grapple him. Grapple to hit, then to grapple: 1d20+10 22 1d20+17 31 Woop woop I'll post following the results
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Geckoman pursed his lips, musing. "Yeah, I see the logic, buuuuut..." He waved his hands in the air, making some abstract shape. "If Copycat breaks into an office and is caught, Ashley George is the one being handcuffed. If Geckoman breaks into an office, and by some miracle is caught, it'll be some random guy they've never met slipping out of the handcuffs." He tilted his head to one side. "Unless we do a two-pronged investigation, one in the Intertubes, one in person. Old school and new school."
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Geckoman stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "Well, I feel like we're talking around the really basic question." He extended both his arms out, hands up, palms flat. "How do you know someone knows? What did you get sent, how did you get sent it, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. If we establish the how., we can start looking into the why, and then we can figure out the who. And then we can..." He paused to cackle manically. "Silence them." He paused, feeling a little guilty of making light of the situation. "Well. We can figure out a way to stop it."
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Chris, having timed his jump a little more... slowly, had to make a lot more of a horizontal jump to catch the roof edge. He landed on one foot, skidding forward roughly on the gravelled roof before coming to a stop a neat foot away from the two younger heroes. Geckoman looked over his shoulder admiringly, staring at seemingly nothing. "Man, the cloaking tech is working like a dream. Good job, Team Us!" He clapped his hands together all business-like, and turned back to his two companions. "So, not that it isn't good to see you, but I do have Skype. Or Whatsapp. Or that other one the kids use. What's so important I have to miss Paw Patrol?"
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Arrowhawk barely managed to struggle to her feet, still groggy from the impact. She found her hand going instinctively for her axe. At any case, Strix was in melee with the "officer" of the law, and she didn't trust her aim to shot into a fracas right now. Instead she took two light springing steps forward, clearing a surprising amount of distance as she tested the water before launching herself across the distance, cape almost perpendicular to the ground as she abruptly became a blur, moving with the speed of Loki's equine child itself, her blade coming up to scythe down at a high speed across the officer's torso in a single, practiced glide.
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OK, there's a vampire in the way, so she won't shoot into combat. Move Action: Stand up Free Action: Quick Draw her axe. Standard Action: Charge up to 250', All-out Attacking for 2, for a total of +4 to hit, and -4 Defence, with her axe. Dc23 Toughness save. Axe Strike: 1d20+14 16 She misses by 2, so I'll burn a HP to re-roll. Axe Strike: 1d20+14 22 This one hits.
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Osla is just gonna lie there for a minute, catch her breath, bleed a bit.
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Arrowhawk was too stunned to react for a moment, having never been hit by a car before. This was a new experience for her. A painful one. Opening her eyes, she found herself somewhere out on the street, flat on her back. She struggled for a moment, before rolling onto all fours, spitting out some of the fluid in her mouth. Blood. She'd bitten her tongue, probably upon hitting the wall. Moving to get on all fours, she grimaced and faltered, her knee crashing back into the concrete. She moved her head towards the building as her vision began to swim back into focus. "Get her out of there! Now!" she shouted hoarsely.
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OK, Arrowhawk is going to aim for option 3. Diving tackle Reflex save: 1d20+8 9 ... Arrowhawk is going to burn a Hero Point! Attempt to not die: 1d20+8 17 OK, so she successfully manages to push the woman out of the way, but the car hits her. Hit by a car: 1d20+8 23 OK, so she's presumably Bruised & Injured Hit into a wall by a car: 1d20+7 10 OK, she fails that one by 8, so is Bruised (and possibly Injured) again, and is Dazed. Arrownitiative: 1d20+8 17
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Arrowhawk cocked her head, looking at the figure in white. "I know, I can hear someone within..." Clenching her fists, she stepped into the storefront, her boot landing in the tire tracks, moving purposefully and slowly into the dusty, grimy inside. She turned, gesturing at her two companions to hold back, before turning her attentions and sight back to the interior. "Hello? Is anyone there?!"
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Arrowhawk followed a few paces behind the whiteclad man. She looked up and down the boarded up storefront skeptically. "And there is no one left in this building to even ask." She bowed her head, lips pursing pensively. "I'd say the body has been moved, but that wouldn't explain the tire tracks." She walked up to the shopfront, and gripped her fingertips around the large board over the shop window. "But do the tracks continue?" Arrowhawk asked, casually pulling at the flimsy boards with strength enough to embed a hatchet in the hood of a car, exposing the derelict store beyond.
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Osla turned to the vampire and gave it a withering stare. "'I didn't do it to you, I did it to everyone'? Stunning defence." Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the tattered-looking man. "Fill me in. What did you see. Did you get a good look at the killer, beyond it being inhuman? What kind of inhuman?" Strapping her bow back to her side, she crossed her arms and looked pensive. "It used mortal weaponry to kill these men. Why would it do that? Most non-humans don't need weapons to kill humans. Unless it wanted it to look like a 'normal' killing?"
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Arrowhawk stalked around the vehicle, hunching down beside the dead men. She pulled out the money clips and dispassionately examined the money. She let out a sigh. Weeks of work wasted in a careless act of violence. When the undead creature stood back up, she turned with a start, gritting her teeth. She turned to him, blue eyes glaring out from under her cowl. The glare became sharper as he licked a drop of her blood off his knuckle. "Another drop of that and next time I'll decapitate you and throw you in the sea," she said matter of factly. "And in future bear in mind that mob assassins do not wear this," Osla pointed her thumb at the white hawk icon on her chest, "Also perhaps it would be best not to try to roughly use mesmerism on capes when you're inside a dead man's vehicle." She threw the wallets and money clip to the ground in front of the man in white. "Mike Donaghy is an associate of the Scarpias, the other man is Jackie Smith. I had spent weeks tracking them both. Whoever got there first didn't kill them for their money. But there aren't bite marks. Cop narrows it down, but not by much." Arrowhawk suddenly tilted her head and looked at the man in the coat. "What intrigues me, is what you mean by 'not normal'. And how on Earth you figured that out."
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