Ecalsneerg
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Equinox stood up sharply and suddenly, face ashen. "He's going after the dead... Samedi. Last year, it's definitely to do with last year. Kriminel is obviously not happy with Samedi abusing the Pact that badly." She produced her wand again and motioned at Nick and Dead Head to come in close, Hayley instinctively running up to climb up onto her shoulder. "I can get us there now but we'll have to form a circle. And you'll possibly end up slightly disorientated. Probably best if I don't try to land in the graveyard itself, I don't know what that'd do to us and I'd rather not get my essence devoured before my body can reform."
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Geckoman nodded imperceptibly to Ironclad, one hand brushing at a part of his belt under his jacket where he had his lock release gun concealed under the suit jacket. Then he turned jovially to the Doctor. "Quite understandable, da. You would not have such a sccessful clinic if you neglected the calls!" He gestured extravagantly. "Lead on, sir!" He plastered a huge smile onto his face.
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"I prefer the ones without the know-how. Knowledge is power." Equinox smiled slightly. "Few months ago, some kid found this incredibly powerful magic staff. He went on a rampage to get revenge for his poor grades. Luckily, I was in my office in the building, and engaged him in a fight. He had enough power to just blow past my defences, but the important thing is he hadn't a clue how to do counter-magic." She turned her right palm up as frost began to crackle out of it. "I froze him on the spot and just pried the staff out of his hands. You couldn't do that with Malador."
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Before I post... did they take Equinox's pentacle Device?
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"There's always blackmail," offered Siobhan. "Yeah, guy had a clean record. Doesn't mean he was innocent. And that'd maybe be enough cause to coerce him into calling up one of the Ghede." She frowned a little, mouth small and tightly pursed shut as she thought. "But why? The only people I can see being stupid enough to call up Kriminel would be deeply devoted to him, and nuttier than a bar of fruit & nut. Nobody else is that outright stupid." She knelt down on the ground beside the body to inspect it, and sighed. "And motives and reason aside, we've possibly got a psychotic deity loose in the city." The witch's face looked paler than normal, and her expression was grave.
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"So old," nodded Chris sagely. "And yeah, clothes aren't cheap. Hell, if the kid is born with powers, maintaining any damage from them isn't going to be cheap." He sauntered forwards towards the building. "Yeah, let's go see inside the place. But I'm warning you, if some rat or spider or vermin thing startles me, I jump, and my landing puts me through the floor..." He shook his fist in mock outrage. "Then you will feel my... well, not so much wrath, it's hard to lay down wrath while stuck in the floorboards, more... miffed-ness?"
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Arrowhawk just smirked and nodded at the other Gabriel. "I don't really need instructions, I can remember most of my ideas on how to disable the majority of those people. I just need to know where, if anywhere, they diverge in capabilities or powerset from their counterparts in our world, and I can adapt my plans to that." Then he saw their Gabriel's outburst and frowned. Outwardly, he was completely unfazed by it, inwardly, he was somewhat worried. So he put one gloved hand on the Irishman's shoulder. "Your anger is controlling you, mate. Channel it, and you can do things you wouldn't normally. Let it rule you to the point you're smashing terrain, and it'll be making your decisions, they won't be good ones, and someone will get killed. Stay on mission. Trust me, I know anger."
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Archived at player request
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Arrowhawk Scrier's Masquerade (7) Geckoman Interceptors - From the Ground Floor (4) Public Anomie (2) Equinox Fine Spirits (4) Maybe Baby (1) Worth Its Weight (3) Burnt Offerings (2) Scholar The Hunted (3) GM Maybe Baby (1) Gm post wouldn't bump anyone up, and give my Ref pp to Geckoman
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"Yeah," said Chris, rubbing the back of his head. "I sort of picked the Arborealair's location based on the assumption anyone using it had access to submersible aircraft, sticky hands, or highly expensive experimental teleportation technology we can't actually afford to replicate." He turned to eye the building. "I suppose I could rig blast doors and bring over the spare defence lasers?" He genuinely felt bad the Interceptors couldn't use his base, but it genuinely wasn't really feasible to live in or use as a base of operations for the West End. And Lizzie hadn't relapsed in over a year and he didn't want to stress her out, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.
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Arrowhawk pondered over in his head the tactical possibilities and plans they would possibly need to survive three days deep cover. He somehow didn't see the resistance having the resources for some form of flight, and in any case it would heighten the risk of being found and overwhelmed. "Equipment," he said quietly. "I'll need access to an armoury, and possibly my counterpart's personal one. Rations, water, maybe sleeping bags in case we have to hide in the wilderness... I'll also need a quiver fill-up, and perhaps a couple of..." He swallowed at the dirty word about to come forth from his mouth. "Collapsible hand crossbows. A longbow is too obvious if you're not in full combat."
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Chris stepped up to Willow and draped one arm around her shoulder. "My dear Willow, what your crazy-ass boyfriend does with his free time is none of my concern. He can teach sheep to be wolfhounds, or fish to be frogs, or germans to be French. Self-defence school, good idea." He took one step forward, and gestured with a flourish. "But how can one teach self-defence, I ask you." The young man flamboyantly swirled on the spot to turn to the group, arms waving wildly. "If one little punch or trip or missed throw would knock down an entire wall!?" Geckoman looked Erik dead in the eye. "Seriously, how much work is this place going to need? I've got school! Ellie's got school! You have a baby! Do we have the time to actually fix this up?"
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That's an auto-20 Disable Device with Improvised Tools. (and if the Internet is telling the truth, this is not at all magical, raccoons just are that good at being consummate thieves) Recovery checks? Right, Hayley has 3 Bruises, Equinox has 2 and is Fatigued. As Bruises take 10 minutes to "heal", I'll assume both get a chance to heal them all. For Equinox... 2 Bruises and a Fatigue Recovery check (1d20+1=9, 1d20+1=10, 1d20+1=10) Well, she's still smarting a little bit. 1 Bruise left. Hayley... 3 Bruises (1d20+1=3, 1d20+1=20, 1d20+1=20) Also got 1 Bruise left.
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Hayley didn't even give a second thought about the keys. They were large compared to her, hard to maneuver, and honestly would just not have made it easy to unlock the door. Besides, even a large drunk faerie jailer was still large, and he wasn't unconscious. If she got caught, it wouldn't bode well for her. Which is why she just bounded up to the lock and began testing it with her claws, softly and quietly fiddling with it by placing her claws inside it, and just using them as one would use a lockpick. She'd done it hundreds of times, mainly to find food. Well, always to find food. Eventually Siobhan had resolved to just locking everything magically and being done with it.
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Alternately, maybe he becomes stronger by being a bloody great cat.
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Siobhan just rolled her eyes are Dead Head. "Honestly, we're a necromancer, witch and a ghost, in a graveyard, speaking to a revenant and one of the hounds of Legba. And you think we suddenly draw the line at vampires?" She gave a small smile and shook her head. She turned back to the main conversation. "But, yeah, a power vacuum would not be a good thing. I don't want to go back to medieval times, with gods and monsters lording it over humanity. That's the problem with a vacuum. Something has to fill it." The witch glanced aside at Kimber. "Back then, gods and monsters walked among men. Mighty empires rose... to be used as pawns on a chessboard. The Pact got instated to stop them from interfering on Earth without human permission... but that doesn't often stop their cultists and scions from helping them do just that."
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"Wow," said Arrowhawk, breaking his pensive silence. "That's a... hell of a situation. And honestly," he inclined his head towards Ironclad. "She's right, and in more ways than one. You picked four people whose counterparts in this dimension were taken down. Honestly, I'm not sure that bodes well, because while it means no time in getting versed in our capabilities, you also know our capability is incapacitation." He leaned forward onto the table, to glare at Gabriel. "I'm going to make this damn clear. I'll help you. For all the people suffering up there. Not for you. You're incompetent. Fighting and getting wounded, yeah, that proves you're willing to go to the wall for what you believe. I can respect that." He leaned closer, red eyes burning brighter under the cowl. "Appointing subordinates who panic? Can't respect it. Not taking responsibility for them and consistently blaming them, not yourself? Can't respect it. Being a smug little bastard? Ditto." He leaned back on his good leg and pointed at Jack. "This man is the most supremely arrogant, irritating, foppish waste of oxygen I have ever had the displeasure of having to work with, and I'm preferring him to you right now. So give us the information. Send us where we need to go. And if this is a trap, you better damn well be on the side of angels. Because you'll need them to stop me coming after you." He went to sharply turn away. "Oh, and 'shaking our fists impotently at guns'? Another crack like that and I'll show you impotent. If the other version of me is incapacitated, I am currently the most deadly goddamn marksman on this planet, and you will remember it is not you doing me a favour."
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Equinox nodded at the suggestion. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. I mean, I'm trying to educate people through the World Wide Ward, but..." She shrugged. She was trying to bring minor practitioners together to educate one another and help them help themselves, but it was slow going, and not everything had a simple solution "Well, sometimes you've got to grab your wand and kick some ass to make a difference. And since the last team faded away, we've not really had a concentrated effort to do so." She turned to Dead Head and smiled faintly. "Is it true what I heard about Heshem's champion getting married and having a kid?"
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ALL OF THEM
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We don't see him round here no more?
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Scholar tore one of the bugs from where it had burrowed into her skin in the confusion. She held it up before her face, and concentrated upon it. Her eyes blurred momentarily, and then she crushed it in her hand and tossed it behind her as she gazed balefully into the fire. It painfully reminded her of home. Only the Drone's questions drew her forth from her reverie. "No, I'm competent enough to heal myself," she snapped. "You know, without burning the jungle down around us." Her flesh began to run and warp around her injury, snapping back into place fresh, whole and unscarred. "I won't need to sleep for a few more hours yet, I can sustain my faculties by rotating which trisect of my brain rests, and I've got some species I can take the night vision from." She eyed the other aliens warily. "Besides. I wouldn't sleep around you two." She nodded curtly at Victory and Harrier. "I said I'd help, not that I'd trust you. The odds of us surviving the night if we stop to rest are minimal anyway."
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Chris looked up at the building. Then down at Erik. Then up at the building. Then across at Willow. Then up at the building. Then down at Ellie. Then up at the building. Then longingly back at his Skink Cycle. The young man looked his team leader dead in the eye, opened his mouth and... flapped it uselessly. He flapped his hands vaguely, and tried again. Still no words would come out. Panicking, he turned to Ellie, and gesticulated wildly at her brother. "Words! Things! Snide! Words!" He dramatically pointed at Erik. "Things."
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<Siobhan? Hello?> whimpered Hayley, hiding in a corner somewhere. She was all alone, somewhere in the stronghold. <I'm alive, fuzzball, don't worry.> Equinox's mental voice was still strong and confident, but tired. <They've got me chained down without my magic somewhere in a prison level somewhere. I can't tell you where, I couldn't see much.> The raccoon quivered with fear. She'd brought this on them, how could she be so dumb?! <What do I do? What do I do!> <I need you to find the jail. I need you to let me out.> Equinox's voice was firm but kindly. <Please. This is our only way out of this mess. Get me out of here, and I can try to go for a second round, only this time knowing full well what she can do.>
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Well, honestly, to me this sounds both the easiest to build and develop. After all, both are twists on the "rich billionaire with gadgets" character. It also gives a lot of room for variance, on how much of the build skews to Batman or Iron Man, and also makes it easy to differentiate yourself from other battlesuits or Badass Normals. While we're not opposed to the idea of introducing new elements & organisations into the setting (hell, that's how you get a shared setting), we do like them to fit in with existing lore. However, we've got mages and we've got vampires of many different stripes and abilities, so this could work. All sound like a good, interesting twist on an archetype I feel is pretty bland when played straight. However, the "different modes" one seems like it'd be difficult to balance in play, as PCs are assumed to hit caps in offence and defence off the bat. Well, not incredibly, we do like mystics to fit in with a basic underlining theme. For example, Nick Cimitiere's magic is necromancy/spirits, Equinox's is elementalism/witchcraft, Changelings is illusions & glamour, etc.
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"If they're making offerings, it's likely... they might be trying to summon a god. Hell, if whoever's doing this wants to call up Kriminel, we might have a psychotic deity stalking the streets." Siobhan rubbed at her eyes wearily, even as Hayley turned up her nose at the awful odour and settled for licking herself clean some feet away. She connected some dots in her head. "But who's to say Baptiste was so clean cut. Clean record or not, he had trace magic in his home. Maybe he'd been up to something to make someone want vengeance on him." The witch turned to address Curtis. "Or it could have been a mix-up. How long had he been recorded as living in that apartment?"