alderwitch
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Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Everything posted by alderwitch
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So, as its been a while (both in the game timeline and in real life!), I'm trying to get some of my ideas blocked down for character updates. The characters I unarchived are: Phantom (PL 15): Interdimensional Cosmic Guardian PL is most likely staying where its at; Taylor is a cosmic entity in conceptFluff Updates: Need to add a brief blurb updating her struggles as a parent: Stat Adjustments: Need to add skills that didn't exist last time she was played Knowledge (Cosmology) and Knowledge (Galactic Lore) and adjust the Lair for only having Taylor as a PC. (Formerly split as an HQ with Avenger (NPC) )
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"It does," Alex confirmed for her friend and followed her gaze around the room. She lifted her slim shoulders in a delicate shrug, "I could re-write her personality and all of this would go away. She'd be whatever we wanted. She'd be happy. It would be utterly false." Alex's tone held a note of longing in it. Part of her wanted to do just that. She had no more desire to come back and fix this the slow way than Erin wanted to be here. "But it would be wrong. So we'll build it the slow way, un-doing the damage rather than erasing it. It's kinda like the Force, that way. The dark path is always easier and more seductive for it's ease, but the results honestly aren't as good." She shrugged and turned back towards the way they'd came. "Yes, the doors open to this place. They open every where. We can dismantle that a bit before we go. That will at least be something a bit more concrete."
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Bombshell slid out of the car, having managed to change wet clothes for her black-on-black costume. She narrowed her eyes at the norse god and muttered to Ace, "I don't think the knock-out-lipstick will cut it. I am going to make myself scarce. You talk to him. The Norse always get so bloody handsy. All 'wench' this and 'ale-maid' that. Feh." With a sniff of disdain that appeared to have some sort of history behind her dislike that went above and beyond the whole Nazi issue, Bombshell glided silently into the shadows to start working her way towards the thunder-god's back. Because if one simply HAD to hit a god, it was best for it to be a sucker punch from behind. At least that was her line of reasoning.
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Talya extended one gloved hand from the car and let Ace hand her to her feet with the sort of old-world manners that hardly anyone employed these days. The advantage of dressing in retro-forties glam meant that no one ever batted an eyelash at the everpresent gloves. Something that she had always found handy with not-so-distant thief past. Even now, not leaving fingerprints randomly had its uses. Her crimson lipped smile was genuine under the dark glasses and wide brim of her hat. "I take it back, dearest," she purred, tilting her face up to him as if oblivious of their surroundings but the lenses of her glasses were very dark and Ace well knew that she'd be looking everywhere but actually at his face. That was the advantage of having partnered up a time or two. Sure, Talya might take his things, but she was highly unlikely to let him get shot in the back, "You don't actually drive that much better than you fly." Threading her arm through his in lazy companionship, she strolled with him to the desk. As for Talya's bags, they were clean of anything of real interest except for some very expensive jewelry that she was not nearly emotionally attached to. She made it a point not to bring things that couldn't be left behind at possible megalomaniac fortresses of death. "You're fortunate to have so many other... talents. Oh, is that a eighteenth century Caucasus hanging?" She pulled away from him deliberately, only half-way feigning interest in the artwork. Some habits DID die hard after all. If everything went to hell, there was a good chance Ace was going to get an ancient rug stuffed in his luggage. It didn't count if it belonged to bad guys.
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"No one means you any harm," Psyche assured the grue as Fleur had the little girl well in hand, extending that soothing aura of calm from her. Her white costume was soot streaked in more than a few places but her smile was genuine as she extended one hand out, palm outward in a gesture of good will and went to take the water from the medic and hand it over. In addition to her own not insignificant protections, she trusted Phalanx with her protection. She always would. Kneeling on the ground, she extended the cup to him, taking a sip from it herself first and then simply holding it out to be taken. "In the field, everyone calls me Psyche. This is Phalanx." She left the names of the other heroes out for a moment as while she knew Phalanx wouldn't mind her offering their information to the Grue in question, she didn't want to presume for the others.
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Phantom had gone quiet once the discussion of the entire 'let's contact creatures from beyond' had started up. It wasn't that time had mellowed the dimensional guardian, she'd simply learned that it was best to save her disagreements for when the plan coalesced into action. For the moment, it seemed, that discussion had been tabled in favor of a sudden attack. "You'd think they'd be someplace far from Earth right about now," she mused idly, floating along at the back of the group. It was quiet, more to herself than anyone else. She gave a little shrug at the plan as if to say the details didn't matter over much to her. "I'll take 'from below'." She made the offer and then started sinking into the solid ground below as if that was already settled. Very few people ever expected attacks to come from solid earth.
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Phantom appeared with little fanfare and less noise, unfolding onto the doorstep and then ghosting through the door in the wake of the frenchman. If exhaustion showed on her face, it was hidden behind the fabric of her mask and the thick folds of her cloak. She did not, however, bother to solidify, instead choosing to hover out of the way of any further arrivals and remain as intangible and quiet as the Parkhurst ghosts. "Do we know who else we're waiting on?" Phantom asked, sparing no breath for the polite niceties. Clearly her husband was rubbing off on her. Either that, or she simply didn't have the energy to spare for chit-chat. Perhaps a bit of both. She did, however, belatedly incline her head in greeting to the others in the room.
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Bombshell was making a small puddle on the floor of the lair as she did her best to quickly towel dry her hair. Whatever she'd been engaged in before the summons, she was still wearing her civvies and she was soaked through to her skin, with her mouth a grim line. As everyone here had been witness to how fast she could costume up when needed, her activities had been very deliberately not in costume whatever they had been before arriving in the secret lair. "It's unnatural. The whole bloody thing is unnatural so why should North Bay be an exception." Bombshell offered flatly. "We'd be better off spinning a wheel for the reasoning than trying to find logic to explain a world gone mad." She sighed and with obvious effort reigned in her acerbic words to pinch the bridge of her nose, "My money's on magic. Science has more rhyme and reason to it than this and its awful large to be a rogue mutant but frankly, I haven't the foggiest and I haven't had any time to look into things so I'm just shooting in the dark. I hate shooting in the dark."
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"It always seems to feel the most hopeless right before dawn," the voice was quiet and polite as Psyche and Phalanx dropped in from the sky. Despite the shining fabric of their costumes, even the two Terminus-children looked weary. Neither of them wore masks so the faint lines bracketing eyes and mouths were quite visible on their still so young faces. "Excuse me, we heard you could use some help on shelter fabrications. I'm Psyche, this is Phalanx if you don't remember us. I've got matter creation and reconstruction, he's got super speed and heavy lifting so just point us where you need us." She dropped to her booted feet, a polite distance away and offered a warm smile despite looking like she'd been on her feet for some time, radiating a calm that didn't match either her age or the situation even slightly, "You've a lovely baby."
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Talya's response to Edge's commentary about her outfit was a slow smile full of all sorts of wicked promise until she caught Ace's bark of laughter. The smile she dimpled back at Ace was unguarded, down right mischievous, and brief as summer lightening, but it was a flash of genuine emotion that for those looking for it, made it clear that most of her other reactions were their own mask. It took less than a heartbeat for her femme fatale airs to slide back into place with the comfort of a well worn robe and she nodded her head at the request. Crossing over towards the briefcase, she extracted a small sheaf of papers and padded back over to the center of the room. Kneeling, she spread the obviously hand sketched maps over the low coffee table, "As I said earlier, dearest, it was a cursory foray but enough - I hope - to get a brief feel for the lay of the land for actual recon work. No interesting secret doors or hidden lairs but despite what the pulp serials would have you believe, those take the work of more than an afternoon to uncover. The Chateau itself, not including outbuildings is five full stories. It's a veritable mansion. The region it's in - Valle Relais - is a bit unsteady although there's not been an avalanche their in a decade or two." Talya said decade or two as most people referred to months, never mind the fact that there likely hadn't been an avalanche there in the lifetime of some of the younger heroes. As she talked, her aristocratic accents became more clipped, almost military in precision. She might look delicate, seated on the ground in the folds of a peach silk robe but her mannerisms would have been better suited for a war room. It was not the first 'Bombshell, report' request she'd had, nor likely the last and she focused her description more as someone planning a siege than a vacation. "The style is Tyrolean, and it's carried through the staff although they actually come from a hodge podge of various middle eastern ancestry so about as authentic as Disney World - and far more expensive. The ground floor of the main building includes the ballroom, dining and a kitchen. That's likely where the face of the party will be held but the rest of the complex has luxury suites and meeting rooms. It's well suited for a clandestine meeting or seven." Talya flipped the drawings over, spreading them out to give the heroes a better idea of the layout as she sat back on her heels. "As for the outer grounds, some variety of the usual sorts. More private meeting areas and then there's support for the ski lift. They have the capability of creating fake snow and likely will be utilizing that for the party. The economy has been impacting the chateau quite a bit of late and most of the chatter about the upcoming gala among the lovely but vapid staff revolved mostly around milking tips rather than anything of use for our purposes. Not too surprising. I might have gotten a bit more but I'm afraid most of my fluency is in European languages and my Tyrolean is simply atrocious."
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Still have to get caught up on what the current list is but quickly: Bombshell - Action shot (I'll note here that I had to base the pose off of a few artists swinging poses as my action poses suck) Bombshell - Civvies Psyche - rough and really ugly first sketch of new costume
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Phantom gathered herself. Floating within the voluminous folds, it would have taken a discerning eye that knew the Guardian personally to see the signs of exhaustion. After this was all over, she would teleport to those that loved her and have a well earned collapse but at the moment, none of it showed on her shadowed features. Silent as the ghost she was often mistaken for, she raised steady gloved hands from the depths of her cloak and eldritch bindings that seemed to pour from within the cloak itself lashed out, manacling both the Mad Doktor and the titan he fought. In a hollow voice that burned the ears and blistered even Phantom's tongue, she spat words of binding that were never meant to be uttered by human mouths... but then, few would say Phantom was human any longer. They would be right. She existed outside of time and space, in the places Between and hers was the right to call on and banish that which dwelt Beyond. Only once that was done did Phantom thrust a hand out in a slashing gesture. "Now we go." Her voice echoed oddly even in the mindscape. The portal she offered Ferros was black as night and shattered with eldritch lightning streaking across the sky - the Void for those who could recogonize it for what it was - but it would take them out of the nightmare realm of the doctor's mind and back to the dubious safety of home.
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Bombshell snatched the card from the ground and it vanished into a pocket on her belt as she rolled to her feet, moving with limber athletic grace. She met his gaze unflinchingly and offered with pragmatism, "We don't know that's the case although, I will admit, I think it's the most likely of situations. I'm sure I don't have to caution you that information is always a valuable tool. By all means, let us go wrath of the gods on him if it's the case but if there's else afoot, it would be best we not be too hasty to jump to conclusions. For now, let us assume that is simply a lead and make our way there directly." She smiled, sudden and wicked, "And if you're right, I will happily let you have first crack at dangling him over the edge of a rooftop or three."
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"Dear boy, how many times must I tell you to call me Talya when I'm underdressed? Bombshell is just for formal affairs," she flashed a wicked smile at the young man and held the balcony door open for him by way of invitation inside. Her eyes twinkled merrily at Midnight's entrance, and she inclined her head to Wander with affable warmth, "Do come in and sit down... as you prefer. I assume your companion will lurk in the nearest shadowy alcove. I'm not sure I ever DID see your predecessor sit down." She tipped her head to the side as if trying to sift through her memories and then moved one shoulder absently to dismiss it along with Ace's commentary, "It was cursory. I didn't have much time but I think my grasp of the layout is solid enough for some actual recon-work. Although I think, if I recall, we have one more guest en-route."
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Alex tipped her head to the side, hands tucked behind her back. She nodded slightly and commented quietly to Erin, "The mind, even a broken mind, rejects the artificial and craves only self delusion. Delusion crafted by another hand is inherently foreign. Now, whether that will bring her any sort of peace..." She sighed and rubbed her fingertips across her head absently, as if smoothing out the tension. "That would take a precog to predict, I gift that I - thankfully - have never been blessed with." Alex turned towards the rest of the rubble and waved her hands in absent little circles, "This will take me many days - if not months - to straighten out but I think we've made the best progress I could have hoped for. Is there anything else you'd like to try before we leave?"
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It was easy enough to find the other heroes, well at least two of them, as Ace had booked the Bell Etoile suite at Le Meurice and sent invitations to the others through his usual byzantine channels of 'old friends'. Ace and Talya certainly weren't the 'all work and no play' types but both had been up to their usual antics while getting a bit of work done. For Talya, that had involved a quick flight too and from Switzerland. She always had preferred the personal recon work and the old habits of working alone did die hard - no pun intended. It had been a busy few days, not only the quick recon work, but there was still a party to shop for and fortunately for Talya, Ace was around to pay the tab so she didn't have to avail herself of her usual five fingered discounts. So much easier when one didn't have to tailor a stolen dress. While Ace set about setting out a few appetizers and the like, getting the suite ready for more unusual guests, which was saying something as part of the visit had been about catching up with old friends. Instead of propping the suite's door open, Talya slipped on her silk robe and went to throw open the balcony doors. Honestly, at this point, she was more used to balcony arrivals than people knocking.
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"I like to not carry anything that I can't easily replace," the masked heroine responded with a faint smile, "You would be surprised the number of times I end up captured and all my toys taken. I find it's best to be versatile." As if to elucidate the point, she held up the tool she'd been using to spring the rusty lock on the cabinet to show it was a twisted bobby pin and then with a flick of her fingers, sent it spinning into the darkness of the office absently until it plinked off of some rubbish in the distance. Her gaze followed it absently and her lips quirked in a smirk. "Not yet, although, we might both yet get 'lucky'," she teased back easily and between her nimble fingers presented a thin white card. It, unlike the rest of room, was mostly clean and looked new, "Don't you just hate when people drop business cards. They're so small. So easy to lose under things. Tsk."
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Bombshell's going to use her time pre-gathering to do an initial scouting of the party location. Fore-warned is fore-armed and all of that!
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Alex gave her a grateful smile for the pep talk before her gaze focused on the door handle in her hands and narrowed. "Hmm... Of course!" It was unrelated to their conversation but Erin had many times seen that 'Aha!' expression on Alex's face. This time was no different. She took a step or two away from Erin and then, switching the door handle to one hand, beckoned with her free hand. Random bits of rubble floated down the hallway, summoned from several distant corners of Singularity's mind, all similar to the door knob itself and none of them noteworthy to look at. "Don't worry, these aren't memories you share." Alex explained, moving quickly through them. Since it was Pathos' patch job, they were easier to undo than the ones twisting Singularity's older memories. Alex sorted through them, dropping them into piles once the memories were restored of 'quickly subdued', 'serious battles' and 'near escapes' as she fixed each one. Under her fingertips, the visual representation of each adjusted, as if a patina of grime was cleared off of the surface. Still dented or fragmented, but no longer with that oil-slick illness of Pathos touch. "Singularity?" Alex turned slightly, once the work was done, looking fatigued but pleased, "I know you've been watching. I have something you should look at. Did you know that you almost got away on your own from Pathos? A few times?" She started to back away from the pile of memories slowly, giving a good deal of space so that her presence wasn't intimidating Singularity from the cleared memories. "I've restored these. The truth, like I promised. There's nothing here to hurt you."
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"Bloody multiverse. It's always terrible people that seem to have doubles just merrily breaking through the dimensional barriers. At least it's not a talking-ape Nazi. I don't know why, but those always seem to be worse," was Bombshell's laconic reply from where she was making a languid strolling circuit of the audience chamber. She still only has her small clutch purse in one gloved hand, the other was absently running her fingertips along the closest pedestal. She came back to attention though at the talk of alternate earth doppelgangers. Bombshell fixed her most winning smile on the despot and tipped her head at him, pulling off the dark sunglasses with a tug of her fingers, "As much as I love a good monologue - and you know I do love a good rumbling monologue, love. Honestly, you could give the original Scarab a run for his money on it and that's not a compliment I give lightly - but that said, that still doesn't explain why *that* Nazi is here after *your* daughter." She wiggled one fingertip at him, "Typhoon, you naughty thing, have you been playing with dimensional portals again? Tsk."
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Bombshell had been having a quiet argument with Ace about just which Nazi had been whisked off. Ace had been correct, of course, although Talya pointed out that she couldn't be expected to keep them all straight. Really, they all looked alike anyways. Once you saw the bald head and swastika, what else really mattered? Once there were French authorities, the blonde bombshell performed her own little vanishing act. The Nazis weren't the only ones with a history with the French police. Fortunately, with Typhoon's grand entrance, there was no eye on the blonde as she turned up once again at Ace's elbow. She reached to pull the glasses briefly from her nose to eye the Destroyer, "Well, still showy but far less destructive an entrance than I'm used to." She glanced down to the toes of her now wet pumps and, making a face, amended, "Mostly." Without any real hesitation about heading onto a bridge of hard water and into the lair of an old enemy, Talya strode forward, pumps clicking on the hard-water gangway, "Come, Ace, I really ought say hello while we're in the neighborhood. It would be terribly rude not to, considering past history. Also, I do want to point out that he now owes me yet another pair of shoes. I liked these shoes."
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"Here," Alex said and took the kit gently in her hands, picking it up from where it had fallen. Alex's brow wrinkled in concentration and her eyes closed as she felt for the memory running through her fingertips and looked for the accuracy of it. "No, this is spliced together. It's part construct. Most of her memories are twisted into nightmares I think from what little we've seen." With her brow still furrowed, she twisted the kit in her hands a few different times, opening it and twisting it this way and that as the plastic seemed to bulge between her fingertips. Blowing out a breath, Alex finally opened her eyes and handed it back to Erin, untwisted by Pathos handiwork. It was a bizarre exercise for Alex, as she had to figure out how she would have made such a nightmare - were she willing - and then delicately untwist the falsehood from the reality of it all. It helped that she was so familiar with Erin's own memories and thoughts. She reached out to Erin and put the make-up box back in her hands gently, "You didn't. It wasn't real, Erin. You must be very careful here to guard yourself as these nightmares are designed for her emotional vulnerabilities, for your emotional vulnerabilities. They will be designed with as much skill as if I had crafted them to wound you, with all of my knowledge of your dreams." Alex paused then and asked, her voice quiet in the too silent chamber of Singularity's mind, her tone vulnerable, "Does it frighten you? That I could do this?" She glanced around and went to pick up another discarded relic, turning it over in her hands as she admitted, Because it frightens me.
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Alex paused to listen as well and then shrugged at Erin, "Well, I won't go in there unless she invites me. Part of a good mental defense is the belief that it works. Maybe keeping the boogeyman out will be a bit empowering for her." She glanced around and for the first time since entering the mindscape, Alex smiled. It was an expression filled with relief. "This, this is good. It's a starting point. I can move mountains if I'm just given the starting point." Alex turned back towards the tree-house and moved forward until she was with in easy eyesight of the vantage points that Singularity no doubt had from her fortress. Turning slightly towards Erin, she waved her hands towards the surrounding landscape, "Like any frightened, abused creature, we'll let her come out to us. If she doesn't come out, she's not ready. But this is where we start rebuilding. Just like junkyard clean up at school, we'll move things around, fix what can be fixed and use what can't to help add to her defenses here. It will register on some level that we're not cornering her, we're not forcing her to deal with things, we're just making her safer. That's the best first step I think we can make. It comes down to trust. And it has to be earned." She pointed out a few places that seemed the most in need of shoring up but Alex would defer largely to Erin's expertise on creating makeshift fortifications. For once, their roles were reversed as Alex gave over the planning portion of creating a fortress and what would most make Erin herself feel safe and took over the heavy lifting of the actual rubble.
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"Yes, and no. Our minds read what is and provide a visual that translates it the most easily into something that is... more accessible. What you perceive here and what I perceive are actually subtly different as well, as my senses provide more information than yours do, due to my particular talents,' Alex explained, keeping her pace slow and meandering. She was using this chance to get a look at all of the damage and would pause along the way to fix this or that small crack but mostly to make sure that any artifacts spilled into the pathways were put neatly back in the open dioramas with a wave of her fingertips. That seemed more important to Alex than all of the signs of damage along their path. "The inside of your mind is different, because YOU are different. This level of organization is... unnatural. My mind might appear more like this thanks to my training, with everything in neat rows and columns but the untrained mind is more meandering. This is, like most things here, a manipulation of her natural mind into something more useful to Pathos' needs." Alex shrugged slightly and looked over her shoulder, "And the damage represents both her own fragmented response to all of her trauma as well as the occasionally heavy hand of my counterpart. Which, for the record, is deliberately so. She has my control, that much I can sense, although I think her power is focused differently. Not unsurprising since we have very different world views but she deliberately chose to leave these gaping, damaged holes. I suspect for cruelty's sake alone. That, in some way, I find the most obscene. She didn't HAVE to do this to her to control her, but she WANTED to."
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"Must be faster than bullets. Or just hard to see. Although the armor is shiny and likely effective at the stopping of projectiles, it would slow me down too much. Besides, silver never has been my color," she smiled faintly at that and then glanced over to give him her full attention as he went down the possible list. Despite her flippant nature, Bombshell did turn her head to listen and give his thoughts weight. It wasn't her turf and she was happy to get clues from any source and the word of a hero that patrolled these areas was an excellent source indeed. "Mmm," Bombshell murmured and slid her gloved fingertips through the old paperwork still in the drawer idly as he talked, "I have a bad habit of tripping over arms dealers, I will admit, but I think that's more likely than drugs. Frankly, drugs are moved in much smaller quantities than you'd need a warehouse for. Gun crates, however, are bulky and do tend to need places to store them unless one happens to know an army looking for said guns. Might be ancient artifacts, but the locale makes that less likely. Not enough security for one thing and those are easiest to move in and out of things like museums and libraries."
