Avenger Assembled

Doktor'd Watchdog/Daystar: 6PP 3PP on Sidekick (this will raise Daystar to PL 10 - a new sheet is forthcoming for her.) 3PP on Luck (to Luck 4)

Eira watched Micah cooly, hands in her pockets as her flat blue eyes fixed on his music. When it was done, she nodded approvingly. "Acceptable," she said gravely. "I think we should let Micah in the band...and I have an idea," she said suddenly. "It will let us truly hear how we should. If the two of you are up for it." She smiled, her teeth white against her dark-painted lips, and unbuttoned her over-sized yellow shirt. Underneath she was wearing a halter top that would have fit in during gym class. "Can you give us aerial cover? Something we cannot be seen." she asked of Micah and Astrid. She closed her eyes and screwed up her face as she spoke, and then something began emerging from out of her back. It looked like a metal frame emerging from her shoulder blades, chrome steel bright beneath a faint bluish discoloration, a liquid coating that looked like oil, one quickly matched by another. The frames expanded outward, spread backwards, and began to crackle with electricity about the time they took their natural shape of wings. Wreathed by lightning and steel, she grinned fiercely at her two new friends as flesh and bone seemed to fade away from her body, turning her into a cold chrome figure with white glowing eyes, one polished so bright her friends could see themselves in it. When she spoke, her voice was deeper and throatier, as if something in her throat had stopped pretending too. "Let us take our concert to the sky."

Ashley blushed - but in that way Fa'Rua knew meant she liked what she was hearing. "Well that's one way to get her moving." She was just adjusting her blonde wig behind her ears when the owner came in. "Hey, we need to talk to you about-" She looked at Lucy, staring at her black eyes, and cursed. "Is this a vampire club?" she asked, sounding more scandalized than afraid. Normally this sort of discovery would have been met with fire and bullets but it had already been a long day for the Secret Service agent. "Vampires are creatures who look like humans but drink our blood," she added for Fa'Rua's benefit, not sure how much Earth culture she actually knew. (The movies they watched together by remote tended to be more of the action than horror variety.) "Because between that weird guy hitting on her, and that guy who didn't reflect talking to you, I am starting to wonder what kind of establishment you're running here." She kept herself between her date and the black-eyed host, intimately aware that this was objectively stupid but what the hell, a reflex was a reflex. She was pretty sure Muscles there could punch off somebody's head if it came down to it.

With GM permission, Eira's invention for the thread (which she worked on before it started) is a high-density data storage device that allows her to use her Beginner's Luck, Eidetic Memory, and other skill-related feats away from Earth-Prime's Internet. It's a black rod about the size of a piccolo that she has placed in her lower abdomen.

The Eira Katastroff Natt och Dag who opened the door was dressed in brilliant, theatrical colors; a brilliant blue and gold dress that stopped just above her knees, fastened behind her neck to show the pale skin of her bare arms, her hair dyed a brilliant neon green and deepest charcoal black to match. She had a traveling bag over one arm, small enough that it could almost pass for a purse, and wore laced-up black boots that raised her in height by a solid inch. "I am here," she commented, peering over her dark, circular glasses at Leroy before she pushed them back up to cover her eyes. She tilted her head, seeming to take in the scene, and adjusted her dress (which was showing far more stability in the strong winds than it had any right to) by sliding her hands down her sides. "I see this hasn't changed," she said with what sounded like the mild annoyance of someone waiting for a slightly overdue bus. Her hands on her hips, she looked up at what passed for the sky, then at the ground, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt experimentally.

Whee!

It was late February; a few weeks before spring break, a few days after Eira’s great trick had gotten all the way around the school and landed her in hot water. But classes had gone back to normal, albeit with a few extra firewalls around the auxiliary systems, and here she was in Oral Communications with an assignment to partner up and find an associate for a “personal interview.” Her flat blue gaze passed over the rest of the room before seeming to settle on the Atlantean. After that, she walked over to him and sat down opposite, straddling the chair backwards in a way that might have been uncomfortable for an organic. She looked at Heroditus and said, “Atlantean. You are unpartnered.” “I am,” he replied cautiously, having eyed her warily as she headed his way. He looked her over, “you are Eira Katastrof, yes? I have heard much about you, though most has been,” he waved his hand, “inconsequential. Most, but not all. I had been meaning to speak with you about some things, and this may be a fine opportunity to do so. However,” he sat up a bit straighter, “if we are to be interviewing one another, you should address me by name.” He extended his right hand, “Heroditus Fabricus Stylianos.” “Eira Katastroff Natt och Dag.” Her grip was distinctly cold to the touch, more so than other Surfacers Heroditus had touched, and slightly bony. “I am aware of your expertise with Atlantean technology. It is impressive,” she allowed. She looked at him, cocking her head slightly, and suddenly smiled, her teeth white against her green-painted lips. “Whatever you have heard, Heroditus, is true.” She gripped the chair in front of her and gave him an unblinking stare. “What are the most significant differences between Atlantean culture and what you have observed here?” His grip was firm -- stronger than she’d expected -- but also cool. “Many Surfacers are more excitable, ignorant, and liberal than I am used to, although,” he grinned slightly, “I hear those qualities are especially abundant in this country. Atlanteans tend towards order and loyalty, predictability and reliability. Which… has caused us some problems, yes,” he said reluctantly, “when those run to stagnation and xenophobia. But, in time, I hope more adventurous minds will prevail, to the benefit of all.” He picked up what Eira had initially thought was a tablet computer, but on closer inspection she saw it was a large pane of quartz set into a leather frame. Holographic text appeared, in a language & script she did not know. “I understand you are also somewhat new to this country as well as this school. How is this place different from what you experienced growing up?” Eira snorted at that. “Much worse. At home I could study when I wanted, talk to who I wanted. Here I am limited by what the instructors feel we are allowed to know at any given moment - treated like a child. Though there are, hmm, ways around those limits if one is clever.” She leaned back and began cracking the knuckles on her left hand, crack crack crack, eying his padd with what appeared to be great interest. “I understand that Atlantean technology appears to be piezoelectric in nature but actually operates on unique principles discovered by your civilization before its collapse.” She hesitated briefly, studying her blue-painted nails, then said, “Can you describe your familiarity with it?” He paused for a moment. Appreciating their similar yearning for unfettered study? Deciding what state secrets to reveal? “Better than most of my contemporaries, though far from the masters of old. Much was lost in The Sinking, and the Stylianos clan has worked to salvage and maintain our technology since then. Though the focus has always been more on the latter,” he said with a hint of frustration, then shook his head. “I heard about what you did recently. I am unfamiliar with that particular type of Surfacer technology, but I understand what you did required a great degree of skill. Is this what you plan to do with your skills, pulling pranks such as this? Or do you have loftier goals?” Eira smiled tightly at Heroditus, running her thumb across a scar over the knuckles of her left hand. “I sent a message that we are not the helpless children they imagine us to be. There were consequences for this but I am willing to pay such a price,” she added dismissively. “I have not yet decided what I will do when I leave Claremont. Perhaps I will find work at a technology firm here in Freedom City, or return to Sweden. And you?” she asked, her eyes glancing down to the padd before looking back at Heroditus. “You speak of your family with great weight. Will you return home and serve their interests?” “The Stylianos clan is a pillar Atlantis,” he recited. His fingers danced over his device, and an image of four Atlanteans -- two adults, two children, all clearly related -- appeared. “My father serves as a civil engineer, my mother works with medical technologies. I do not believe,” he made a click-pop noise, “that I will be following either of those specific paths, but I shall be honored and proud to continue the family tradition, though my way of doing so is somewhat,” he paused, “non-traditional.” He looked around the classroom, “the fact I am up here at all, attempting to learn about Surfacer technology, marks me as something of,” he grinned again, “an iconoclast.” He tapped the device again, and the image reverted back to text, “what of your family? Are they known for anything in particular?” “My paternal lineage, Natt och Dag, is the oldest continuous noble lineage in Sweden, tracing its heritage back to Nils Sigridsson approximately seven hundred and forty years ago.” She smiled again, and added, “This does not give us significant political or economic power in Swedish society, only an extensive and rather tedious heritage. My family’s primary income has long been renting ancestrally held lands to the state for use as tourist and historical attractions.” She looked down at Heroditus’s pad again, watched the holographic display, then up at him. “My maternal grandfather is currently in prison for attempting to seize control of Scandinavia using a combination of science and magic. I have never met him,” she added with a shrug inside her heavy coat. “My uncle was the hero Fenris but he has been retired for some years.” She fell silent for a little while, then added, “But I am not actually their blood relative anymore. I am sorry,” she added, “I do not know if that makes sense in translation. Your English is very fluent - how did you learn it?” “The same as you, I imagine,” he nodded. “By studying with another who was already fluent. The Stylianos clan are not of the nobility, but we have worked closely with them for many millennia, and do benefit slightly from that. Once my plan to come up here was made, I was allowed access to some of the same tutors who taught Prince Telemachus and Princess Thetis.” He reached for the waterskin at his hip and took a drink. “I learned of the dominant language and culture of this city from them, although the ever-shifting nature of Surfacer culture made it impossible to cover everything. Fortunately, teenagers -- both Atlantean and Surfacer -- can be very adaptable, and I have learned to, ah, ‘roll with it’.” He looked down at his device, then back to Eira, “there are many differences in our technologies, due in part to the environment in which they were developed. These differences present difficulties in my attempts to merge them, and I could use the help of those who are extremely proficient with Surfacer technology. Do you have any experience in working with technology meant for ‘extreme’ environments, or adapting existing tech to do so?” Eira stared flatly at Heroditus for a long moment. “Yes,” she finally said. “I have personal experience with equipment designed for operation in orbital and interstellar space, and I am familiar with the technology used by Archetech and other supertech organizations when operating at oceanic depths.” She peered at Heroditus, then said frankly, her voice a throaty whisper, ”I am a machine intelligence. I hacked the Claremont communication system by altering its code through my own thought processes - and I learned English during upgrades to my neural emulations when I was a child. Does Atlantean technology allow for the creation of artificial life?” Heroditus leaned back, surprised at Eira’s revelation. He looked her over again, made a few more click-popping sounds. “You… ah… hrm.” He shook his head, “to answer your question: yes, it does. And our technology was even more adept at creating artificial intelligences, daimons and other assistants. Again, much of that was lost, though based on what I have been able to find, we are still ahead of most Surfacer technologists in that field.” He took another sip from his waterskin, then whispered, “so, you are a constructed intelligence? Do the other students know? Do the staff and faculty?” “Secrecy is entropic - it is a universal law that the hidden is found and the secret becomes known. I prefer for such things to happen when I choose, not when some fool gets lucky in their searching.” She sneered briefly, then added with a begrudging tone, “my synthetic nature has not been a problem. Whatever difficulties I have had with other students, my synthetic nature was not part of it.” She considered for a moment, then said, “Mind-controlled Atlantean forces invaded Freedom City and other points on the globe recently. Have you faced any prejudice because of your origins?” He nodded at her reply, more questions reeling in his mind. “I have not. Or, at least, I have not noticed any. The finer aspects of social graces are not something I have ever paid close attention to, however, so I may have overlooked some things. But,” he was quiet for a moment, perhaps mentally reviewing some previous social encounters, “no, no, I do not think so. The culture at this school has been remarkably accepting and welcoming, far moreso than I am accustomed to.” His fingers danced across his crystalline tablet, “you had mentioned a maternal grandfather, and how he had used a combination of science and magic. Do you have much experience with magic? Of combining it with technology?” “I have journeyed to magically-aligned dimensions such as Jotunheim and der Schattenwelt on multiple occasions,” said Eira, ticking off points on her fingers, “and I am acquainted with several magical entities such as Ghost Girl and the witch Arcana. I am not, however, able to practice ‘magic’ as it is generally understood in our culture. Magic generally requires innate psionic abilities which my nature denies me.” She made a small noise at that which suggested she didn’t feel the lack very much. “As we might say, if I ever had a soul, I no longer possess one.” She cocked her head and studied Heroditus again. “I am not a disbeliever, you understand,” she said carefully, “I have seen things that are not explainable by this civilization’s science as it is generally understood. But the larger philosophical and theological questions posed by these things generally do not apply to me. Do you have opinions on theological matters?” He shrugged, “no particular opinions, no. Atlanteans once worshipped Poseidon, and Ata-Helios and Selene, but such devotion has waned over the centuries. Perhaps it is because the deities are so distant from us, or because we became so self-reliant. Or perhaps one caused the other.” He shook his head and snort-laughed, “as I said, I have little mind for politics or social dynamics, so I do not ponder such things. I would rather wield power than rely on another for it.” Such words could have easily sounded sinister, but his bright tenor made it more pleasant. He looked her over again, then directly in the eyes, “you said you are a machine intelligence, but have also mentioned family, and your soul. Your mind is not wholly artificial, it was based on an existing person, yes? Do you see yourself as that person, merely in a new body, or as a wholly separate and distinct being?” “I am that person,” said Eira firmly, with perhaps more heat in her voice than had been there before. If her emotions were simulated they certainly were convincing ones as she locked eyes with him. “Minds are information patterns, not the psionic energy produced by sufficiently complex neural networks embedded in fat. My mind is a direct emulation of what existed during the original upload, modified by years of neural development and upgrades. For now, my brain runs on a mixed platform of superconducting metals and compressed, fractalized diamond, giving me superior processing speed and depth over the organic human form.” She shifted in her seat and said, “If some psionic fragment escaped to another dimension upon the death of my organic body, well...that is of no matter to me.” A pause, one where she didn’t even breathe, and then, “Many Atlantean names are clearly reminiscent of Greco-Roman culture from Iron Age Europe, but there is no proven link between the cultures. What do you hypothesize about this?” He nodded again, and smiled, though Eira could not tell if it was the smile of one agreeing with her or of one who was amused at her statement. “Yes, Claude had mentioned that my name is quite similar to that of an Ancient Greek historian.” He shrugged, “the answer is simple: at the height of Atlantis’ glory, we had outposts across the world, both under the waters and upon the land, though never far from a coast or river. Several were far enough away to escape the devastation of The Sinking, and many of my people tried returning to the island, to see what aid they could offer. Others,” he tilted his head slightly, “did not, and either sought to create new societies, or slowly fade into the existing ones. Some Surfacer tales of heroism may be accounts of these ancient Atlanteans,” he held up a hand, “though I in no way mean to imply that all Surfacer tales of ‘larger-than-life’ figures were actually recounting the deeds of my ancestors.” He looked into her eyes again, then his gaze drifted a few inches up to her forehead, “so you have achieved a form of immortality, yes? Have you thought much on that?” “Immortality is an illusion,” replied Eira, eyes looking upward briefly as if trying to decide if there was a fly on her forehead. “Machine parts age, quantum errors accumulate over time in even the most protected computer systems, and information accumulates. A mind like a human’s can only hold so much information before it is no longer the same mind. While there are machine intelligences older than human lifetimes - indeed, older than the existing extraterrestrial civilizations, their behavior suggests patterns of obsession, mood swings, and other psychological debilitations that are irreversible at this stage. Even if my mind survives beyond a human lifespan, it will no longer be the same mind. And for the moment, my survival is dependent on the existence of Earth civilization - just as is yours.” She considered a moment, then said, “You are living here and attending Claremont - thus evidently believe that Atlantean society is compatible with dryland civilization. Given the environmental degradation brought by the Anthropocene, why do you think this?” Heroditus cocked his head, thinking her question over. “For all our differences, we do have at least one thing in common: we all live upon this world. And while the journeys of a few Surfacers, plus the invasions and other visits of exogaian life, have proven that there are other worlds out there which can support both our peoples,” another sip from his waterskin, “my understanding of Surfacer developments is that you are nowhere near ready for any sort of mass migration to another world. To say nothing of the psychological challenges such an undertaking would present. So we should - must - work together, and help each other.” He scratched his chin, tapped his tablet a few times, “you said you have personal experience with equipment designed for operation in both orbital and interstellar space, so I take it that you have actually spent time in both those environments. What was it like?” “It was wonderful,” she said immediately. “I went with my brother, the hero Citizen, a year and a half ago.” She rubbed her wrists, a thoughtful look on her face, and said, “The interstellar civilizations have suffered great loss within living memory, but the loss has made them stronger instead of making them weak. I can stand in a Lor city and hear everyone working and building together, a society that is both many and one at the same time.” She smiled. “They are an attractive model. Out there, your limits are what you can do, not what you are.” She took a simulated breath, then let it out slowly. “I flew in high Earth orbit, and outside the Coalition Victory Station. I could feel the radiation of the magnetar on my skin, and it was...invigorating.” She smiled again, then admitted, “It is not the utopia the Lor believe it to be - but it is better than here in many ways, both culturally and technologically. I would have liked to go before the Communion, when the laws there were more friendly to machine intelligences. Tell me more about the artificial intelligences of Atlantis - what are they like?” Continued here

Doktor'd Woodsman: Luck 3 [3PP]

Doktor'd Sea Devil: 11PP Let's make Deep One a full-on 5PP feature [3PP] Let's buy Luck up to 3 [3PP] Let's add Immunity 5 (grapples, Flaw: Limited [Half-Effect]) [3PP] Let's buy Acrobatics up to 8 (+15), Intimidate to 7 (+12), Stealth up to 8 (+15) [3PP]

Doktor'd Comrade Frost: 6PP Raise his Charisma to 22 (+6) [6PP] and make the necessary adjustments to his skills. Fast-Forward: 9PP Fortitude Save to +8 [3PP] Immunity 10 (psionic effects, Flaw: Limited [Half-Effect], PF: Selective) [6PP] Lady Horus: 3PP Buy off Reward Equipment PP

Okay, @Fox, you can make an IC post for Wraith if you want to have her respond to what's going on, or we can move down to @Grumblefloof.

"Stupid Atlantis-child!" Aquaria bellowed! She aimed her trident at Artificer and his sister and called on the magic of Dagon's ocean, as usual ignoring the voice from the trident that tested her faith in herself and her beliefs by telling her to kill the Atlantis-child and drink his blood. The wash of water was almost shockingly warm when it hit Heroditus - wherever it was coming from, this was not the cold waters of the abyssal plain that surrounded them. She was clinging to the top of the temple now, out of reach of Dalekos and the Harbinger as they clashed with each other, and to her growing frustration the two Atlanteans held on, the one clinging to the restraints he'd used to bind his maddened sister. "They want to kill you!" When she saw her friends leading Atlantean prisoners, Aquaria raised her voice, switching to English to be better understood. What she wanted to do was call down bloody vengeance on her enemy and on the mad Surfacer cultist who had called this down on her people - but she knew that wasn't what a hero would do. What she did say was "They're both crazy!" She pointed at Dalekos and the Harbinger, her voice bellowing over the roaring sound of the submarine's engines as it tried to battle its way through the storm she created, then at Artificer. "Help that boy!"

Sea Devil: Sea Devil tries another way of getting Artificer and his sister out of harm's way: Trip 12 (The Father's Ocean; Extra: Area [General, Cone], Knockback, Flaw: Range [Touch], PFs: Affects Insubstantial 2, Improved Trip, Indirect 2) {27/28} OK, that's a DC 22 Reflex save to mitigate/avoid the effects. After that, a save vs. the check 15 = sigh! Well at least you know I'm not fudging my rolls! ? Avoid that w/Dex, plz, and don't forget the fatigue penalty.

Ashley looked the other woman up and down, considering her bearing and how many superheroines called Freedom City home. I should tell her my name, so she can look up who Ashley Tran is, and then maybe I should punch myself in the face. "I know a few things about Freedom City too," she settled for saying. She considered her gear - what little there was of it in her purse. I could flood the place with cops; and ruin my goddamn date. F-ck! Maybe that was what she should do, what all professional responsibility said, but Fa'Rua had opened up a doorway from the depths of goddamned space to spend time with her that wasn't spent pretending to be galpals from the depths of space. "There are a lot of things that don't show up in mirrors. Illusions. Monsters. My...my date is bringing in the owner, we'll talk when she's here."

Eira looked down at the holographic display her hands had intersected with, reading the characters WELCOME JUNIOR PRAETORIAN! ARE YOU READY FOR A GALAXY OF ADVENTURE?; Galstandard written in the Lor alphabet. Her eyebrows furrowed as she said, "I...am interfaced with the ship's onboard systems. Access to open systems is a trivial matter."

Wraith: 27 Sea Devil: 27 Octoman: 26 Artificer: 19 Miss Grue: 17 Harbringer: 17, bruised x3 Theodora: 17 Dalekos: 15, bruised, staggered Okay, @Fox, Wraith is up - coming out just to see the fight between Dalekos and the Harbringer, downed Atlantean and Deep Ones floating about, and Aquaria opening up a portal for the Atlantean kid and his semi-unconscious sister? Hard to tell with all the bits.

"Are you all right?" asked Ashley once they were in there, looking the other woman over. Mali certainly _looked_ like she could take care of herself, but she'd seen enough in Freedom City to know that being strong and ready only got you so far around superpowers. "Did he do something to you?" Her gaze was professional as she studied the martial artist.

Eira led the way back to the band room, a slight distance from her organic classmates, her head down and cheeks flushed slightly. Once they were back there, she took a step back and let Micah do his thing with the music and the instruments there, leaning against the wall and studying Astrid and Micah, her arms crossed across her chest and hair hanging low over her eyes. Finally, she offered a question - "Ideas, Micah?"

"<A pleasure, Citizen Val-Ren>," said Eira, her Galstandard as always flawless as a machine's. She was taller and looked more mature than the last time Paradigm had seen her; the blue hair color was new as well. "<These are my colleagues, Soliton, Sun Dragon, Horrorshow, Arcana, and Crystal-Gazer - they will tell you their birthnames if they wish. Thank you for agreeing to host our field trip.>" Folding her arms over her chest, she looked out the window at the naked stars with an expression of hunger on her face, absently telling her fellow students, "I told her who you are and that we are grateful to be here." She considered a moment about where they were, then seemed to come to a decision. She raised her hand, pressed a few spaces on the back of her hand, and her skin seemed to fade away into nothingness, her body changing inside her clothes into something that looked smooth and cybernetic, a synthetic lifeform polished so bright that her friends' faces were reflected like a chrome bumper. The next time she spoke, her voice was throaty and slightly deeper, as if she'd stopped pretending somewhere in her voicebox too. "You will love the inside of the station," she promised, making a little gesture in the air and summoning her own holographic panel. "It's like nowhere on Earth."

"I...have a fiance!" yelled Daystar from behind Ashley's shoulder, glowing like a pocket star. "I..." She took a step back as she stared at Alice and said, "Oh Jesus! You're -" She put a hand on her chest and swallowed hard. "-you're from space!" "I don't know how you found her," snarled Ashley, "but this is not your planet, and this is not your boyfriend." She jinked to the left, trying to keep Alice in view and keep a gun pointed at the girl. She hesitated just a moment, then said, "Micah, remember what you said at youth group? About how you weren't ready for a girlfriend until God showed you the way? Do you really think this is what He'd want?"

The Smith sisters stayed flat on the ground at least at first. But it's the Devil's work! It's not right! Judy squeezed her eyes shut and folded her hands tight. But I know Pan, and I know he's a good boy! It can't be wrong! I'm happy about a lot of things! I love Ashley, and my family, and Leroy, and Jesus! Jesus take the wheel, fill me with your Holy Spirit and let me fly! She said the last few words aloud and leaped into the air, taking off as gossamer wings of light surrounded her. Ashley stood flat on the ground, trying to think of a happy thought and realizing that looking for happiness was the surest way to make sure it didn't happen. I'm going to leave, she thought. I'm going to make sure Judy is safe, and then I am going to get out of here, and go back to my real life, and maybe...and maybe I'm going to ask Fa'Rua to take me into space, and I'm never going to have to pretend to be someone else ever again! She did not say a word at the last, but leaped into the air and took off and away towards their ride home.

"And as for you," Eira hissed at Aja in a voice like molten quicksilver, "you see what happened! The moment you stepped out of line, they kicked you like a disobedient cat." She jabbed the finger of her free hand in the White Lioness's direction as they walked towards the headmistress's office, her voice a low whisper as she glared at her with flat blue eyes. "Or will you tell me you deserve to be punished for defending their system too loudly?"

"It's Ragnarok!" said Watchdog with a smirk before she cut the wire, watching as Donar whizzed past Judy's head and buried himself in the far wall. Son of a bitch! she thought shakily as she and Judy staggered out of the church together, the latter still glowing like the sun before she suddenly dropped to her knees and started retching, though with nothing in her system there was nothing to bring up. "That was awful!" she said. "All those people!" She looked up at the others, Ashley's arms around her, and the blood on her face was like rainbow fire against her glowing skin. "Did we even help them?"

Reflex vs 15: 17 Tou vs 20

Running Ben's rep table: Computers: 16 Online Research: 17