Avenger Assembled

"The eyes! The eyes, they see!" Tarva's terror and grief was palpable as she put her arms around Kimber, burying her face in the smaller woman's torso and muffling sobs against ectoplasm. The cacophony was impressive - the shadows in the room (and there were many of those) were sobbing too in sounds of inhuman alarm, her hounds running around frantically and barking at nothing, their thin, greyhound-like forms seeming to stretch as if whatever force that created them was being pulled to its utmost. - "That it was an accident is reassuring," commented Steve, reaching down and taking Miss Americana's hand for a quick moment. "But it could mean many things yet - there could be a breach in the dimensional barrier deeper within the fortress proper, or other things buried elsewhere beneath the ice. An invasion would be definable, an accident - makes matters difficult." Downloading the contents of Mandragora's archive was a far more laborious task than it would have been otherwise, given the extreme risk of information crossing directly from the Terminus-built machine to one built by the people of Earth-Prime. The presence of technopaths might have made it easier - but given the magnitude and infectious potential of their foe, it could have easily made things more dangerous. As the probe continued its download, they wound up erecting a recorder for the playback on the probe's monitor - infinitely slower than any number of possible solutions but by far the safest. - Tarva denied everything. She looked Kimber in the eye and told her that she'd simply had a terrible nightmare, something that was by no means uncommon for the Terminus exile. But the shadows in the room moved with a barely suppressed energy that spoke to a swallowed, perhaps stifled terror, and the hounds on her bed were growling at the darkness that was usually their home. "There is work that I do in the shadows without you," said Tarva, doing the trick where her long black hair obscured her face. "I've done it before. You shouldn't be afraid." - Having departed during the download after a brief consultation with Miss Americana, Harrier returned about the time everyone was breaking for their evening meal. A winter storm had settled in outside, with howling winds that were clearly audible even inside the dome. Taking her aside, he told her quietly "The railguns are online, but the orbital devices will have trouble targeting through the storm. If Mandragora is out somewhere in the mountains, there's no finding him in the winter. How are you?" It was a question with many meanings, under the circumstances.

Citizen: 23

Woodsman: Will save: 18 Sense Motive: 22 Notice: Woodsman Skill Masters the Notice and hits 27.

The monster chasing Fred didn't seem to realize in how much danger it was in - a golden mass about the size of her fist flew past her torso and hit the rocks nearby. She was scientist enough even now to see the way the gravel it hit was partially transformed into gold, the internal matrix of transformation suggesting that a particular compound was being transmuted into gold rather than matter proper in a way that would have been fascinating if not for the galloping in her head. The golden rock monster that had been chasing Reagent now went for Woodsman, charging at him with a great blubbery speed that belied its bulk. But Woodsman proved faster, dropping to one knee and rolling, the breeze from the near-miss passing over his head so close he could feel it over his scalp. Jumping back up to his feet, he came up with his hatchet in his left hand, his eyes hard as he stared into the empty sockets of the gold monster he was facing. The air was cold against his partially exposed skin, Fred was screaming in a dangerous terror, and he was mad as hell. Something in his gaze seemed to reach the golden monster, and it took a step back - too late! He brought his hatchet down where he'd struck the first one, driving it beneath upper limb and into torso. This close he could feel how thick and heavy the golden mass was so he hit it again, this time with both hands as he brought the hatchet around from the other direction, cutting deep into what would have been ribs and belly on a human, goldenrod fluid leaking down freely from where he'd hit. I know that won't kill you sonsofbitches but it hurts like Hell! He could be killing it easily enough. That same strike to the thing's neck would have taken its life - he knew that as surely as he knew how to kill a Feral. But the things weren't trying to kill _them_ - yet. Sure enough, the badly wounded creature shoved him aside and ran for the flooded pool that had produced it, bleeding 'gold' behind it just as its fellow had. Now there was only one left - and Fred. Oh yes, there was Fred. And the other thing.

Woodsman: 20 Monster 1: 17 Reagent: 15 Monster 2: 14 Monster 3: 11 Monster 2 sees the oncoming Woodsman and goes for him! http://orokos.com/roll/548709 = 12 A miss! Monster 3 Tries to hit Fred with his thrown Transform http://orokos.com/roll/548711 = 11 Also a miss! New round. Woodsman: Startles Monster 2 as a move action = http://orokos.com/roll/548713 = 26 Resist vs 26: http://orokos.com/roll/548714 = 21! Okay. The creature is now flat-footed with a DC to hit of 14. Power Attack vs DC 14 http://orokos.com/roll/548715 = 28! Okay, well. 6+5+5+15 = DC Tou 31 Tou vs 31 19 It too is staggered and dazed, and will start retreating. Reagent is now up as soon as I post IC.

The battle between the teen heroes and the Archevil thing may have been simulated - but it felt real for all of that. It belched blasts of smoke and flame at them as they came at it, swirling multicolored explosions that were of no earthly hue or odor, and whipped great tentacles at them thick as tree trunks. When struck by sword or armor blast, it howled as gobbets of ichorous black blood went gushing down its sides and onto the buildings it was climbing. Blinking numerous black eyes at them, its fanged maws seemed to be opening and closing with some new, terrible purpose. Perhaps the resolution was no better than being inside the latest VR rig with added sensory input from smell and taste, but it was certainly impressive for all of that. Down below, Huang found that a larger and larger crowd was gathering underneath the battle. The Freedom City natives and visitors alike, excited to see a major superhero battle happening just above their heads, were taking pictures and film, some people even posing in such a way that the overhead melee seemed to be photobombing their little group. The fight, spectacular that it was, was attracting an ever-growing simulated crowd, with even cars on the street stopping for tourist purposes. As far as his senses could tell, there wasn't much 'to' this creature - a mindless thing from another realm, roaming around this dimension maddened by rage at its displacement and the alien three dimensions around them.

Monster 2: Reflex Save vs 18: 18 Oh noes! Give me another Will save, DC 15

Sea Devil dived deep, doing her best to follow the trails she remembered from her own time living far beneath the surface of Great Bay. It wasn't easy, though - the sandy mud that was much of the bay's surface left few trails for long, and much of the debris she'd learn to use as trail markers had been removed or swept aside by the tides. She wound up swimming out to the very middle of the bay, where the acoustics were best when there were few great ships in the harbor, and retracting her armor around her head. As the cool, ill-tasting salt water touched her skin, she closed her eyes and strained her ears, listening to the utmost. There were a few of the great ships, their bellies rumbling with power and noise, a few of the smaller ships, some of the many creatures that lived in the bay, some of which she knew and some she didn't, and others that were - there was! The song! - There were Deep Ones outside Leviathan's headquarters. He knew what Deep Ones looked like well enough from his briefings and from their invasion of Freedom City some years earlier, and this is certainly what they were. Their predominant colour was a greyish-green, though they had white bellies. They were mostly shiny and slippery, but the ridges of their backs were scaly. Their forms vaguely suggested the anthropoid, while their heads were the heads of fish, with prodigious bulging eyes that never closed. At the sides of their necks were palpitating gills, and their long paws were webbed. There were about a dozen of them, some wearing crowns of white-goldish metal, others completely nude, their bodies covered with barbaric tattoos of bold shapes and colors that depicted scenes of battle. Leviathan could hear their song, a booming bass that echoed through the water, even if they hadn't seen him yet. They were all armed, each carrying tridents, and as Leviathan watched, one of them swam up to the opening of his stronghold and whacked it with his trident! It didn't seem to do any damage - but still singing, the creature swam back to join his fellows a moment before another swum up to take a turn!

The voice mails are not human speech - they are baying like a dog and croaking like a frog, dark shades of expression permeating every booming bass syllable, the inhuman song of madness that will one day mean the end of the world! "Hello! My friend needs things for her face! And her body. Don't tell her I told you. My name is Aquaria Innsmouth, and I have thirty dollars - I can spend more if I need to but this is all I have. I don't know what works the best for females here. I know how to make myself pretty but I do not know how to make my friend pretty - and I know she wants to be even if she does not say it, or she would not work to do it. Which one is your best thing for a female with pink skin? Hello? Is someone there?" (disconnected) "Hello, are you a machine? I know what machines are. I don't call people on the telephone much. Yes, my female friend needs things for her face and her body - the eye paint, and the lipstick, and the things with smells. She doesn't smell of things except soap - and I still think she needs to smell like things if she wants to know people. Or maybe a male! She says she doesn't want one and that's okay, but I think she'd be happier if more males were smelling her. Are there plants with flowers? I have a lot of those and people say they like those." (disconnected) "She has pink skin, brown eyes, and gold hair. She is about as tall as most females like her are. Her eyes are normal-sized and so is her mouth, and she has all the normal fingers and things. Her hair is short but she might grow it longer if it were different colors. She didn't say she wouldn't when I asked her, anyway. I think she would look good with green hair - or if she cut it _all_ off! Do you have anything for painting skin like that? I think people might like that. Tell me when you call me!"

Just glad you're okay, HGM!

There was a lot of work to do with the battle over - securing the prisoners, offering first aid to the wounded, working on cleaning up after the battle. General Bradley came out himself to offer personal congratulations to the heroes who'd saved the day, shaking hands firmly with everyone, even winking at Miracle Girl in a strange moment the others didn't quite catch. By the time the wounded had been taken to the base hospital and the prisoners secured in the base prison (heavily under guard and partially sedated - having been brought there still struggling by the superheroes), almost an hour had gone by - an hour in which evidently much had been happening inside the plane. As they gathered together on the runway to talk, the plane's airstairs deployed from the rear. First came a group of harried-looking Secret Service agents who scanned the perimeter, weapons out but not pointed, then called up "All clear!" A moment later, a familiar man stepped out and began descending the stairs, in the company of more Secret Service agents and staffers - a big, bluff man who had the build of a football player turning to fat, his trademark smile and cheery demeanor looking considerably subdued by these circumstances. It was the President of the United States! "Are y'all all right?" he asked seriously, raising his voice just a little over the machinery and movement all around them in the middle of the ongoing cleanup effort. "I saw some of you take some good licks just now."

Sitting next to Robin, their arms entangled and bodies pressed together, Riley tensed slightly at the squeal but otherwise was relaxing much more than he'd expected. He'd been steeling himself to walk into a wall of noise and fast-moving bodies, but the relative quiet before the music was really nice. Close spaces and darkness were actually pretty comfortable places for him, it was how he'd spent most of his childhood down in the depths of the bunkers of his homeworld. "Still wonder 'bout the name," he commented skeptically to Robin, not wanting to sound too impressed. The only thing he was really impressed by was how freaking gorgeous she was dressed up and happy. "Gonna dance with you, though." "You sure they're not friends a'yours?" he called to Cathy with a laugh. He'd taken coffee for his drink from behind the bar, espresso covered in whipped cream that left it several shades lighter than his skin.

Ah jeez, I made it with a nun! thought Anna. Well that was one for her therapist - if she went to a therapist, which she didn't. Shrinks were lousy creeps anyway. "Then we are bound together - guarding this city." Lady Horus thought for a moment, then looked at Esperanza, and said, "If she were an enemy, she could have slain me last night." "Which is why I'm not supposed to bring anybody home, remember?" said Esperanza, giving her a solid teenager's glare. " "We will discuss that later," said Lady Horus, in a tone that suggested she might have to concede to her protege but not here in front of people. "In the meantime, we will need a place to stay until we can find a new residence. Bedlam is no great metropolis - finding a discreet residence is a great challenge."

"Lousy no-good punks," Anna hissed at the fallen gangbangers. Up close, her accent marked her as not being from Bedlam despite looking like she could have come in off the streets of the city - she sounded not so much like she was from New Jersey but like she was an actress from a black-and-white crime drama _about_ New Jersey. "Whaddya doin' pullin' this outta your territory, anyway?" Anna hadn't actually taken the time to note where all of Bedlam's street gangs were, or even most of them, but the Latin Aces ran with the Mara and that meant they were near Hardwick Park - Lady Horus's territory. The men were in no shape to talk, though, and suddenly Esperanza was pulling on her arm. Esperanza was supposed to wait for her under cover in situations like this, but Esperanza didn't like to be alone near cops or at night outside, when something might swoop down on her from above. "Okay, ladies," she said with bravado as she scooped up somebody's discarded to-go order of cheese curds. "I think we ain't gonna get good service here for a while." Don't worry, Espy, I'm almost done, her look said when she turned back to her protege. "You all right?" "Yeah, I'm okay," Esperanza said, in a half-truth from her rapid breathing and sweating brow, looking around warily. "Everybody's running for it, or hiding in the parking lot."

All right, that takes him down! Go ahead and post.

October-November: October of 2017 marks the 10th Anniversary of Freedom City Play By Post. This is an important event - and one that'll be commemorated throughout the site when the time comes. One piece of that celebration is the 10th Anniversary vignette - a special vignette for a special occasion. Here's your assignment. Write a story that sees your character ten years ago, today, and ten years from now. This could be a time travel story. This could be a case that takes two decades to solve. This could be a young hero reflecting on their childhood and current career with a flash-forward to the future. This could be an older hero remembering younger years, the present, with a flash-forward to their retirement - or any other way you want to do it. (In the grand tradition of comics, you are not bound to a canonical future for your character here.) What's special about this vignette is the following: this vignette is worth 10 POINTS if you complete it before November 30, 2017. That's right, ten points for a tenth anniversary vignette! That being said, this must be longer than a typical vignette. You should expect it to take up about 3-4 pages, or about 750-1000 words - at least. Remember - post it here by November 30, 2017.

Woodsman shot the monster Fred had hit, center-mass, the muffled interior explosion sending off a fine spray of gold particles across the surface of the quarry. The beast kept coming, though so Woodsman fired again, this one striking the creature in the lower abdomen with similar effect. He heard his bowstring snap at the second shot and inwardly cursed himself for loading too hastily. He restrung, too fast, knowing he'd pay for it in the field until he had time to fix it up. He prepared himself for another attack, half-guarded by the protection of the tree, but watched the monster he'd shot seem to hesitate. It was bleeding now, rivulets of yellow stained with coppery-orange flowing down its torso from the two bolts that had exploded inside its body, and it didn't seem like that one bit. Making a hissing noise like a burbling mud pot, it turned and ran for the shelter of the pool - bringing a hard smile to Woodsman's lips. Got you, sucker! he thought as he ran for Fred's shelter. And just in time, as the creature punched Reagent! Fred felt things pop, but not break as she hit the barricade behind her - luckily the creature evidently wasn't trying to transform her this time! The punch had great force, anyway; if she'd been any slower to dodge she'd have broken ribs or worse from that hit! It was looming over her, big as life and making inhuman noises, its flowing, shifting golden body looming nearby even as the Alkahest threatened to bubble up...

Woodsman: Shoots Monster 1! 19 And just hits! Toughness vs DC 26 http://orokos.com/roll/546793 = 18 Okay, it's bruised and dazed. I can do better than that, though, I think. Surge time! http://orokos.com/roll/546794 = 18 again, hmm. Let's spend an HP to reroll that. http://orokos.com/roll/546795 = 23 Okay. Tou vs DC 26 http://orokos.com/roll/546796 = 16 All right, well, it's down to -2 Toughness, which is pretty impressively low! Monster 1 beats a hasty retreat! Reagent is up as soon as I post IC

New round! Thug 3 is the last one standing. Alice is up.

September 2017 Freedom City They'd tried to fool Aquaria. The Freedom League had called her in to consult about a tribe of Deep Ones passing through a city on the East Coast. She'd told them the truth as far as she could tell; that the tribe passing through was small and isolated, hunter-gatherers rather than would-be conquerors. They'd probably take what food they could find from undersea and then move on. That had been enough - they'd let her go back with the promise that these Deep Ones would be unmolested. They hadn't told her out loud what she was looking at, not in so many words, but she knew the bottom of Great Bay readily enough. A Deep One tribe was here, right here - and so familiar! It was late in early September, in the middle of the long Labor Day weekend, when Sea Devil dived into Great Bay and swam deep, her armor open to the sea around her. It was, it would always be, like coming home. She'd let Jessie stay home for this one, buried deep in her studies. This was something she had to do all by herself...

http://orokos.com/roll/546766 = 8!

"Be like you don't know we're there." Riley lingered for a moment, hands in his pockets. It was hard coming out here unarmed, especially in the company of his friends, but normal teenage boys didn't go armed to dance parties and he really wanted to be normal for Robin tonight. So outside of what he'd slipped into the generous pockets of his pants, he was all normal today. He wore a plaid shirt under a black vest with matching black tie, comfortable jeans and even a brand-new black fedora. It wasn't as good as Midnight's fedora - but it was a nice fedora all the same. "You look great, baby," he said with a wink at Robin, offering her his arm as they headed inside the club. They're not going to lock us down here and eat us.

Lady Horus suddenly coughed, inside the mask Anna thinking So that's what that's like! "...well, thou certainly have a tongue in thy head," she commented, smiling as a faint blush appeared on her pale cheeks. "But I believe your words." Esperanza had reentered at this point, looking like she was holding back something, maybe laughter, maybe a scream, with great effort. Anna took her in quickly and knew they'd have much to talk about that afternoon. For her part, she went on, "If you took blood, you spilled it - think nothing of it. You may count us as friends." Esperanza did take this opportunity to speak up. "Listen, lady, I don't want to sound ungrateful, but it's a pretty big coincidence that Stabbo the Clown showed up at our door the morning after you did, don't you think?" She frowned, crossing muscular arms as she gave Nicola a penetrating look. "Do not alienate our allies, girl!" said Lady Horus with vehemence - but not actual anger. "I was careless - I let myself return without hiding my trail. All things I have castigated you for, my ward - I apologize" she said, pacing the room with barely suppressed energy of her own, glowing slightly from suppressed solar energy. "We have powerful enemies," she admitted to Nicola. "I have met no vampires who lacked for the same. Why are you in Bedlam?"

Sofia is up!

The connection was difficult at first, only possible with the presence of two master cyberkinetics and someone familiar with the bizarre technological constructs of the Terminus, and the natural fear of contamination meant that their data gathering was slow. The group had time for lunch, such as they could eat, anyway, before they began making significant penetration into the crypt's archive. It was dark outside now, darker even than the civil twilight of that morning, and the howling of the wind showed that they were indeed in for a significant winter storm like the sort that they'd been lucky enough to avoid so far. Noise outside or not, though, the domes were secure - and so was the connection to the probe inside the hill. The practicalities came first. There was nothing inside the crypt - no organic remains, nothing. There was a residue of something in the interior compartment that generally held the bodies of the dead, but the probe (deliberately under-sensored) lacked the ability to find out what it was. It was not Mandragora. What the crypt did hold was data, and a tremendous quantity thereof - the active mainframe of a system that had been activated multiple times a day by multiple people for at least twenty years from its internal chronometer. There was a story here, albeit a half-glimpsed one. First were the desperate inquiries about dimensional travel and time travel, failed attempts to build great open-windowed machines out of the remnants of other things. Then someone's eye for detail - an architectural drawing of military barracks and a vast paddock, easily as large as multiple football fields, carved out of the rock and ice itself. More and more pictures; machines and dragons working together to melt the ice, larger and larger structures being built. Children being born, families being raised. All beneath the eye of Mandragora. Deaths. Hunger. Cold. "Sacrifice". Then came the war. Expeditions had found the world was inhabited by amphibious, reptilian humanoids - then found the reptiles' rivals, a civilization of humanoids that lived on a nearby continent. They had spells, and monsters, and powerful things, but none so powerful as what the forces in Antarctica possessed. Mandragora had tried to ally with first one, then the other, but both had broken with him - and put aside their rivalries to war against the forces of the Terminus, cast ashore on Earth-Prime multiple tens of millennia ago. The war had gone badly for the Alliance at first - but Mandragora's forces were unable to replenish their numbers and so any loss against them was impossible to replenish. Soon enough their raiding parties were being pushed back - and then _they_ were being raided, an army slowly moving against them from two different continents. The movement of armies, the collapse of defenses... The last file in the crypt's records, or at least the last they found in their first pass through the records, was an audio recording of the master of the fortress. "This is the last journal entry of Mandragora, the Dragon King of the South. I tried to conquer this world but united it against me. Lemurian and Atlantean, ancient enemies, have come together in one great war to defeat the Dragon King of the South. It is fitting that I die as a shaper of men, just as I was meant to be. I go now to die among my enemies in the frozen wastes of this land. Let them take the poisoned chalice of this fortress. It will be their death, just as it was mine. We will die together - in the name of the one who brings Death to all. HAIL ENTROPY!" - Across the world in Freedom City, Tarva the Black opened her eyes and screamed. She didn't stop.