Avenger Assembled

"His name is Josef," said Eira, trying to keep Godir on task, "here, let me show him-" She made a connection to the machine to show her memories of the human scientist, then succumbed to temptation to speak on the microphone. "Typhon," came a mechanical voice across the PA system, "Typhon...smash all you want, you'll never find a superior man." Idiots, she caught herself thinking, simmering anger pushing her further, stupid roid-rage freaks, thinking they were smarter than her. Better than her. "I am stronger than death itself!" It was true enough, but singularly unhelpful. "Let the escape pods go," she whispered to Godir, "they'll be caught and drown if we keep them here." She thought of her broken, near-helpless body; remembered having to remove her own flesh to avoid detection - "TYPHON...TYPHON..." Her voice got louder. "COME CLOSER, TYPHON! YOU'RE ALMOST TO ME!" He was getting closer and closer to an outer bulkhead.

Eira smiled despite herself, thrilling at the change in Godir. She hadn't given up contingency planning, of course, but there was something delightful in his transformation. Still, it was best to redirect his rather naive bloodlust before it got out of hand. "There is a human hostage aboard ship who should be protected; he has a family waiting for him on the surface. As do you," she told him truthfully. "What is the submarine's current location?" she asked, pulling open a holographic map of the world like a teacher in front of an old-style board. "I can direct you to the safest location to dock." She considered the threat of the terrorists, then said, "I recommend subduing the teleporter first, so that none can escape. After that - may I use your internal public address system?" she asked with a smile.

So it was done, and good for him - the Freedom League had another Atlantean member, continuing an honored tradition that went past longer than the lifespan of your typical Surfacer. (Or Atlantean, for that matter.) Aquaria turned off the television and hopped over to climb into her armor, telling her roommate she was going for a scuttle. So Sea Devil left Singularity to her work, a painting of a primal scream that Jessie had been dueling with for some time, and hopped outside to the roof, clinging to the outside of the DuChamps castle as the freezing rain poured down on her green and white skin. (It was cold, but she'd felt colder in her time, down in the abyssal depths.) He's up there with them, and not us. She clutched her trident in a three-fingered hand as lightning boomed around her, pondering her feelings as her therapist had warned her would be a problem. She knew Singularity had little interest in public work as a superhero; now that her time with Project Freedom was up, like her warrior sister, she had settled down to home and work and family. She had no interest in being on the Freedom League. No, us, wasn't the right word. He's up there instead of me. So many years on the Surface - in the Hell Above, as her people called it. Visiting their temples, saving the weak among them from monsters, fighting her own people in their name - And here she was, watching an Atlantean take honored place among them. She could hardly fault them; she knew Artificer and his sister, and knew that they were both among the ranks of good ones among the sons and daughters of whore Posiedon and blasphemous Amphitrite, names that even to think made her stomach church with righteous fury, But the thought came again. It should be me up there. She remembered a conversation, many years ago, with the Surfaceman whose transformation by Deep One blood had led to her making the journey to the Surface, what felt like a lifetime ago. Deep Ones are taught to reach out with their hand and take what they want - She detached her left forelimb's grip from where she held onto the castle's side, and held it out to the sky above. What do you want? It was a question that had been asked of her many times over the years, in many tones and by many people. She closed her fist and saw the vision that had haunted her across so many dreams since she'd come here - the sea, roaring in its joy, flooding the streets below, window glass shattering, the screams of Surfacemen giving way to the ululations of joy of the transformed throats below as Hydra's tentacles - No. No, I don't want that either. I love too many people here. She dismissed the thought, even as it made her heart pound wildly in her muscular chest, her trident writhing encouragingly in her grip like a puppy. Hydra wanted to grip - as ever. Reach out with your hand, and take what you want. She took the trident and held it between her teeth, as she would a squirming young spawn, until it was calm. I want respect. I want them to know me for what I am. All of them. Not just here, but everywhere else. I am Aquaria Innsmouth! I have taken what I want and I have a place! I have a home! When I call in a voice to ripple the sea of stars - I want them to call back! I want - She sighed softly; in the sense that the throb wasn't actually audible through the glass windows. I want. And a Deep One reaches out her hand - and she takes what she wants.

Angelic swung into the server room, tsking at how behind-the-time Godir's hardware looked. Leave it to SHADOW to brute-force their way through the problems of a near-sentient artificial intelligence. I wonder if there are any more like him, she thought dispassionately as she parked herself in the midst of the server setup, connecting directly with her handling tentacles to avoid the problems of rapid wifi connection. Accessing multiple routes into Godir's consciousness simultaneously, she found the door to rebooting himself out of safe mode before her like an old-fashioned power switch against the wall of a large, darkened room, like a vast auditorium invisible in the gloom of night. She caressed the switch with the fingers of an intact hand; the Basilisk having one, after all. She closed her eyes and pictured Typhon's face as he ripped off her arm, weighing that against the risk of Godir's awakened intelligence - and then, with a most unmechanical snarl, pulled the switch.

Angelic looked at the ladder for just a moment before she went into action, balancing on her handling tentacles as she went down. She could still fly, but there was no reason to spend unnecessary energy. Not yet. She moved quickly, catching herself as she went down more than actually climbing as such. If anyone could have seen her face, they'd have seen glowing white eyes and a flat, mechanical face. She'd have to go back and find the original, if it hadn't been destroyed when the elevator crashed. Good thing I have so many spares... Unexpectedly, she remembered being touched on that face - how it had felt, what it had been like, and how she'd have to work very hard to make sure it would ever feel that way again... Luckily it was easy enough to keep those emotions dialed down. There were advantages to a diamond brain; and electric heart. She opened the shaft door at the proper level and swung her way in. Not much further now.

Abilities: 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 = 24PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 14 (+2) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 8 + 8 = 16PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +4 Base, +8 Unarmed Defense: +8 (+4 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Grapple: +6/+16 w/Move Object Knockback: -4/-1 Saves: 3 + 3 + 3 = 9PP Toughness: +8/+2 (+6 Force Field, +2 Con) Fortitude: +5 (+2 Con, +3) Reflex: +5 (+2 Dex, +3) Will: +5 (+2 Wis, +3) Skills: 56R = 14PP Bluff 9 (+11, SM) Concentration 3 (+5) Diplomacy 9 (+11, SM) Intimidate 9 (+11, SM) Knowledge (Earth Science) 4 (+6) Knowledge (Pop Culture) 4 (+6) Language 1 (Hindi, Base: English) Notice 8 (+10) Sense Motive 9 (+11, SM) Feats: 12PP Attack Specialization: Unarmed 2 Benefit (Wealth 3) Dodge Focus 4 Luck Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, Sense Motive) Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Powers: 3 + 6 + 34 + 2 = 45PP Flight 1 (telekinetic flight, 10MPH, PF: Subtle) [3PP] Force Field 6 [6PP] Move Object 8 (Effective STR 40, Heavy Load 6 tons, Extras: Damaging, Range [Perception], PFs: Indirect, Subtle) [34PP] Super-Senses 2 (Tactile [Radius]) [2PP] Totals: Abilities (24) + Combat (16) + Saving Throws (9) + Skills (14) + Feats (12) + Powers (45) - Drawbacks (0) = 75/75 Power Points

"Direct me to the fifth sub-basement - and ensure the humans can't follow me. Once there I'll make the connections to pull you out of safe mode." The Rococo Basilisk walked across the riverbed, the water parting before and behind her as she went. (Eira knew a thing or two about Classical references.) She kept her own counsel, her thoughts about contingency plans and backups moving deep in layers inside her mind. "After that, if you can help me subdue the terrorists, I can bring you to people who can give you a body." She smiled as she circled Godir on his side of the bank, a rose appearing in her hand. "I may even give you one of mine...if you don't mind being a twelve year old girl for a while," she added with a smile as she handed him the rose. After that, she waited for the end - and to be back in her own damaged form.

Angelic As the door closed behind her, Eira scuttled - there was no better word for it - right up to the console. Once there, without a word, she drove a handling tentacle directly into the console's most visible access port. An observer would have seen a damaged robot, its blank eyes white and glowing, wrap itself around a computer console and penetrate it with a metal tentacle. She opened her eyes, and found herself at the edges of Godir's systems. There was nothing wrong, physically, with the Rococo Basilisk, and she took a moment to crack her knuckles before she spoke to Godir directly. I came to stop them. But then I found you. Images, her direct impressions of the terrorists, their gang, and their plans. I can offer you freedom from their control, in this body or another. Images, impressions of Freedom City, and Rurland too, for that matter. If you help me, I can fully activate you. I can make you who you were meant to be.

Eira was not inclined to follow a stranger's directions - even if she suspected it wasn't a stranger at all. But following her own directions hadn't gotten her very far; and she was more than intelligent enough to recognize when she was in trouble. She took a moment, eyes closed, and refocused her internal proprioception. Away from the missing limbs, and towards what she had. She folded her remaining leg up under her, locking the joint in place. She deployed her handling tentacles, all of them, and began moving forward, grabbing onto handholds and fixtures along the corridor as she followed the direction given her by the lights. As she went, she studied the map of the submarine in her head, trying to figure out exactly where she was.

Angelic You see, said Kay, smiling to show her nano-tipped fangs as she caressed Eira's face with one of her forelimbs, you should have let them die. She dismissed the stray memory and gathered herself. Even if Typhon didn't, someone would come looking for the interloper or her remains - and she had to make sure they found something, to make sure they stopped looking. She looked down at herself and the pool of magnetic blue fluid in which she lay, its flow rapidly slowing as her systems came back online, and caught sight of her reflection in it. She did a few things. With the claspers on her leftmost anterior handling tentacle, she peeled the torn skin and false flesh away from her face and upper torso. With her rightmost posterior handling tentacle and its tools, she finished the job of detaching her left leg and left it there in the pile. With her other handling tentacles and her remaining arm, she grabbed ahold of the interior wall of the shaft, reaching around until she found access to the elevator system's internal workings. Did it have a computer - yes. She overrode the safety systems in the lift and told it to accelerate upwards at maximum emergency speed - and then drop down to the bottom of the shaft, accelerating all the way, without engaging its brakes. There was such a thing, she thought as it zoomed upwards, as too much automation. By the time the lift had impacted on the shaft floor at its maximum speed, she was already through the nearest door and into the body of the submarine. It was time to go to work.

It had been a rapidly conceived plan - get herself away from the powerhouse with the ability to rip her limb from limb, get the viral samples away from Typhon, get somewhere she could plan something else. She was made of harder stuff than the inside of a submarine; she would survive. And if Angelic knew something (and indeed she knew a great many things about a great many topics), she understood survival. The need to survive. The will to survive. He grabbed and threw just as she disabled her self-destruct system; and for a half-second she wondered if she would. She hit a steel wall and went through it and felt cybernetic flesh rip; and hit the next one and felt it go altogether. She was inside a shaft, perhaps an elevator or a ladder or any number of things that she could have identified with more clarity if something wasn't impaling her lower torso - and she was falling. She fell, her internal sensors briefly disabled, and landed on a hard metal surface with a loud bang. A human would have screamed; instead she merely vocalized, catching a sickly, metallic noise as she said softly "Ow."

https://orokos.com/roll/1030086 Neko will go on 11; but right now it's all part of the show!

well, she's gonna relent to both - since her plan is to get tossed!

Neko Musume Neko found an excuse to stay late, even after most of their friends had gone home or bedded down for the night. She texted Raina to cover for her with the Espadases, promising to make it up to her later, and studied herself in Leon's bathroom mirror. She'd given herself a thorough bath, even if she'd had to change to do it, drawing things out to make sure more people were asleep and the house was quiet. With a smile, she turned off the music playing on her phone and 'peeked' outside with her cats to make sure no one was watching except her boyfriend. When she was sure they had some privacy, she stepped out of the bathroom, wearing just his oversized T-shirt. "Close the door."

Neko Musume Neko stared at the man, her tails thrashing behind her, and looked at her nails before looking away altogether. "<What is this?>" she demanded of Shinobi, keeping her pressure on the one like her and not like this man who she had never met but whose foul soul she could practically smell. "<Is this what you bow to? Some bloodless man-thing?>" She turned the word into a scornful laugh as she paced the room, making big, theatrical gestures and raising her voice as loudly as she could without screaming. "<Katana at least could ape the manners of a warrior of legend, but this is just a foreigner with a Japanese face! Will he make you his furry mascot to sell his wares to fat Korean children?>" she taunted. As she spoke, Ladybug took off, the little drone rapidly zipping around her head as she went on, "<What do you even do here?>" she demanded. "<Sit in chairs made in a factory? Stare at screens made by Chinese?>" she added with a sharp sneer. "<I may use their technology and wear their clothes, but I am not their slave! I am their master! They give me their dollars, and I give them nothing that matters.>" She snapped a finger and pointed at Shinobi's master. "<What is your name? How do you come to command nekomata and bakeneko?>" She wasn't asking anyone here about what mattered, of course - but then she'd already established that part of the deal.