Gizmo
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Alright, lemme get a DC 20 Toughness Save for Corona, Rav. Hey, they knew it was coming! (No, I won't count that as a spent HP, E.) Troopers Toughness Save vs DC 20: 4#1d20+4 23 19 21 22 > 21 - Corona - Uninjured, 1HP, Pending Save 19 - Eclipse - Uninjured, 2HP 17 - Wander - Uninjured, 3HP 16 - Antibody Group 1 - Unaffected 16 - Antibody Group 2 - Unaffected 16 - Antibody Group 3 - Unaffected 07 - Roulette - Uninjured, 4HP 05 - Squad C - Unaffected 05 - Squad E - Disrupted x1 05 - Squad W - Unaffected 05 - Squad R - Unaffected
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The metallic tang of blood stood out by familiarity alone, a streak of red on the concrete leading up to the bike where the boy had lost his balance and scraped up his knee and palms. A half-dried puddle of regurgitation overpowered that smell to Wildcat's right, little half-moons of blood on either side of it where the victim had tried to prop himself up while his stomach emptied itself. The rankling scent that had drawn the feral vigilante to the trail in the first place rose unmistakeably from the puddle along with a stew of half-digested lunch meat and cheap candy. The smell of the dumpster upon which Jill was perched almost kept him from looking more closely but the bent metal piping of a water bottle holder on the bike that had been ruined in the fall caught his eye. Rolled away from the sidewalk and under a discarded newspaper Wildcat found an emptied sports drink bottle, dented in one side. The drops of the drink around the fastened cap reeked of the contaminant, the strongest scent marker yet. He didn't even need to unscrew the top to know he'd found their culprit. He didn't recognize the logo, the word 'Maul' written in a faux-tribal font that took him a few passes to decode, but if the starbursts proclaiming the drink to be 'all new' and 'all different' were any indication that wasn't surprising.
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Kimber laughed nervously and shuffled her feet as best she could without any actual friction against the ground. "Um. Well, two problems with that option, really. One, even if I decided I liked somebody else it's not like I could do anything about it anyway. And two, I may have already talked to her about it?" The poltergeist glanced over at Eric before looking away again quickly, tapping her index fingers together. "See, 'cause I found out that she could actually still tell I was there when I was invisible and I had maybe been occasionally behaving in a not-un-creepy way under the assumption that she couldn't? N-nothing really bad, just like following her around a couple times or reading over her shoulder when she was writing poetry? Which still-- I needed to apologize, obviously." Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment but she pressed on. "Only, see, that's when it got complicated."
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Communion Antibodies Initiative: 1d20 16 > 21 - Corona - Uninjured, 1HP 19 - Eclipse - Uninjured, 2HP 17 - Wander - Uninjured, 3HP 16 - Antibody Group 1 - Unaffected 16 - Antibody Group 2 - Unaffected 16 - Antibody Group 3 - Unaffected 07 - Roulette - Uninjured, 4HP 05 - Squad C - Unaffected 05 - Squad E - Unaffected 05 - Squad W - Unaffected 05 - Squad R - Unaffected We're back in initiative! Corona is up but in the meantime everyone give me a Reflex Save!
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Just as the troopers were moving to follow their respective commander's orders - some more grudgingly than others - the glassy green computronium of the canyon walls and the uneven surface beneath their feet exploded, showering the entire formation with shards of converted material. The figures that erupted forth the newly carved tunnels had once been the planet's native population, tall and gangly by Lor standards with knobby joints on each of their six limbs. They were barely recognizable now, flesh having been carved away to make room for drills covered in gnashing metal teeth and asymmetrical tubing sloshing about something viscous and silver. With electronic screeches the scrambled forth, looking to surround the Coalition soldiers on the right, left and from below!
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"Well, obviously, mon jeune ami, he would attempt to punch me in my tremendously handsome face," Pique agreed easily, using one hand to stroke his goatee roguishly. "That's why I'm on the roof. Do try to keep up." Keeping a very calculated excess of a single lunge away from Chris, the swordsman moved in a slow circle to the edge of the rooftop and glanced downward. "As for Nassor, well, I don't think he truly means any harm. He's circled this block three times and if he were merely 'casing the joint' as one does he would have made his move already. It's as though he were nervous about asking the prettiest princess at the ball to dance." "A reasonable suggestion, Taylor, however time is somewhat precious commodity just now," the object of the rooftop discussion explained, pressing his lips together and visibly choosing his words more carefully as he touched upon a topic that would be more difficult to explain in full. "Suffice to say the issue has become less one of navigation and more one of, ah, survival."
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Hit me with a Notice check and a Search check!
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Jill's mask didn't do much to hide the arched eyebrow she raised when Wildcat referred to 'his' territory but she evidently decided that that was something they could hash out later if it became necessary. Instead she withdrew a boxy, vaguely pistol shaded device in battered stainless steel and matte black from her jacket and replied, "Can you?" Pulling the trigger she fired the grappling line up to the rooftop ledge of the three storey building next to the convenience store while an immediate double-tap sent her sailing acrobatically up through the air as the cable forcibly retracted then released at the apex of her arc. With a combination of swinging and gymnastic leaps from roof to roof she was soon setting a pace that the feline fighter would have been pressed to match if they'd been going further than half a block to an abandoned bicycle sized for the boy she'd just rescued. Skidding down the adjacent brick wall, Jill touched down surprisingly quietly atop a closed dumpster in a nearby alleyway, eyes narrowed and expression serious. "So? Smell anything?"
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"Cha, like used too much tongue, maybe," Kimber retorted glibly, rolling her eyes and making a frustrated huffing sound that puffed out her cheeks. "Why does nobody get the important part? She kissed me." Impatient, the ghost slid smoothly forward in the air, letting colour and illusory solidity fade from her left arm before unceremoniously thrusting her hand through the barista's chest halfway up to the elbow, her wiggling fingers sticking out of his back. "Eh? Eh? She kissed me on my totally incorporeal, very much previously unkissed lips, okay? You know how people get phantom limbs? I have phantom everything, Eric." She retracted her hand as she floated a little higher into the air, still disregarding the necromancer's personal space, looming over him slightly. "Every. Thing. Euuunnngh..." Dropping back down to the alley floor she retreated to a less confrontational distance, hands covering her face as she paced. "Sorry, this is just a... frustrating topic, you know? Like, frustrating? Yeah." Sighing heavily, she elaborated, "Anyway, no, Tarva didn't mind-whammy me, that was just how the spell worked. All her magic is kinda melodramatic like that, I think she's mostly overcompensating 'cause shadow magic is pretty much diet cola compared to the stuff most of the Annihilists use. Plus our landlord's a telepath so it'd be tough to pull a fast one." Kimber snorted flatly, ducking her head in between her shoulders and looking embarrassed for a new reason. "Woulda been a pretty lousy plan, anyway, since after that I maybe spent a whole year turning invisible and hiding whenever she was around to avoid talking to her."
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Slipping out onto the balcony as Sharl came inside, Set leaned his back against the railing next to Eliza and watched the holographic hero tinker with his projector with unconcealed curiosity. Sharl's apparently artificial nature certainly answered a few questions but it raised even more. "Now there tis a streaming service I'd yet to hear about," he remarked to the masked elementalist with a sly tilt of his head, dreadlocks swaying in the night air. Counting the earthly exploits of his elder self this was hardly his first encounter with artificial intelligence but Sharl was easily the best at passing for organic. "May anyone subscribe or does one need an invitation?"
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"Oh, honey, no," Jill reacted sympathetically to the attempted rejoinder, shaking her head. "It's alright, you keep thinking and we'll come back to it, okay? So far I've been moving east but they've been spread out," she explained, lips pressing into a thin line as she got down to business. The first victim, staggering with dizziness and abruptly appearing varicose veins, had just been lucky that she'd been close by while out running errands but once Vince had let her know about an emergency call from two blocks away reporting a similar case she'd gotten a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sure enough just following the shouting and scanning the streets while dashing from rooftop to rooftop had kept her busy for the better part of the previous two hours. "At least some of them collapsed with plenty of other people around, unaffected, but there haven't been any reports elsewhere in the city yet so best guess is the common denominator is nearby." The logic was sound but there was more than a little wishful thinking at work, too. She'd been able to flush the worst of the affliction out of the systems of the victims she'd found but she could still only be in one place at a time.
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Tagging!
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Lucy Harker's little office was barely big enough for three or four people to fit comfortably at a time so it was hard to miss so it was hard to miss a new arrival, particularly when she was translucent blue, floating a good meter in the air and entered by simply passing through the wall. "Lucy! Lucy!" The excitable poltergeist bobbed up and down as she rushed into the room, hands waving over her head. "We've got a big dead people problem and I need your lawyer powers!" Belatedly, Kimber looked about the office, dropping down until her feet were nearly touching the floor, one incorporeal leg halfway through a stack of file boxes. "Um, is this a good time?"
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Well, that's your prerogative! Did you want to make any changes to your last post in light of that info? You don't have to.
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Wildcat The costume was already a dead giveaway but the mention of healing powers and the snarky attitude confirm that this is Jill O'Cure, one of the Interceptors. She's been active primarily in the West End for more than four years now, notably using her force fields to help the fire department and her healing abilities in cases like the time the city's water supply was spiked with mutagen and getting a lot of news coverage along with the rest of her team during the Gorgon panic. Conventional wisdom among the non-powered criminal element is to just surrender if confronted by Jill: she's a formidable and acrobatic hand-to-hand combatant in the first place but the offensive side of her powerset is especially unpleasant. She's related to the Interceptor's leader Jack of all Blades is some fashion, probably siblings given the resemblance. She also partners with the armored heroine Dragonfly almost as often as she appears with her team.
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A little belated but it's worth noting that if Wildcat lives in the West End he'd almost certainly already be familiar with the Interceptors and by extension know who Jill O'Cure is. They're based specifically in that nieghbourhood and tend to make the news! Give me a relevant Knowledge check - Streetwise or Current Events would cover it or you can feel free to make a case for something else - and I'll let you know what he knows!
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Jill took a shallow breath through her nose, putting the brakes on a snappish response and immersing herself in the cool rationality of triage. The black-clad man was wound tighter than a mousetrap spring and had a feral air about him to match; getting into a mask measuring contest was just creating one more hurdle for herself she didn't have time to deal with. "You can smell it? Can you track it?" Enhanced senses would explain the questionable cat motif and cagey posture at least. "People are keeling over sick left and right; my powers let me cure them but each victim I run into is worse off than the last by the time I get to them and I'm sick of putting out fires. So congratulations, Kitty Commando, you've been drafted. Find me a disease vector!"
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A shimmering blue barrier of translucent electric blue burst into being an inch away from Wildcat's outstretched fingers as Jill whirled about, the burst of motion from the corner of her eye eliciting a decisive response from the agitated medic. By the time she'd turned to face him she'd dropped into a serious looking fighting stance, fists at the ready. She took one look at the young man dressed in black and his military surplus 'costume' and rolled her eyes behind her crimson bandana mask. "I'm a little busy for amateur hour, American Ninja. Just-- are those little kitty ears?" Making an annoyed sound in the back of her throat, she unclenched one hand and waved it dismissively in the air, the force field obligingly dissipating in response. "Look, I'm dealing with some sort of outbreak right now; you know anything about that or are you just staking out mini-marts?"
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"I guess," Kimber allowed, although that seemed to be a little more vague than she'd really been hoping for. Sighing again, she placed her palms on either side of her face. "Alright, then. This, um, this gets a little weird at parts, like a different 'weird' than the stuff you and Siobhan let me help with. I'll try not to miss anything important." She took a deep breath; she might not have needed it physically but it still helped her to get her thoughts in a row. "So there's these guys called the Furions who are sort of like future-alien-knight-fighters who live in the Terminus like those guys who tried to invade Earth only they're good and they fight the Annihilists and they know Renarde 'cause I guess she's just super kick-butt and this one time one of them showed up who's sort of like their version of the Raven and said he needed help so Renarde and Wraith and me went with him and they had this giant tree where they lived like that movie with the elves and Scavros brought up to their jail and introduced us to Tarva who was supposed to be a really bad Annihilist but wanted to warn the Furions about a really bad thing that the Annihilists were planning even though they were for sure going to kill her for it 'cause she figured that was still better than letting them do the thing they wanted to do which had to do with these really really really tiny robots that were going to turn people into Omegadrones who are kind of like robot zombies only a lot worse than that sound even but we figured that Wraith and me were probably mostly immune to that so we took Tarva with us to stop the plan and they almost got us but we got to the control center of the base which was actually a giant lady who was really sad and she asked up to just blow her up and we did but then we had to get away in time and I can't fly as fast as Wraith can run so we asked Tarva to use a spell to make me sort of solid for a bit because she's this shadow sorceress which I guess I forgot to mention before and then she kissed me!" Hands in the air she looked at Eric expectantly.
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Wander Corona Roulette Eclipse
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I like it! >Freedom's Finest #1: Cat Scratch Fever and the >OOC
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The OOC!
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April 4th, 2015 The door to the convenience store swung open with a chime from the bells hung above it and the resounding impact of the boot smashing into it. "Hey! I need a hand over here!" In her customary crimson and black, Jill O'Cure burst into the store in enough of a hurry to almost knock a rack of corn chips over, a boy of about ten or eleven unconscious in her arms. The heroine set the child down of the counter in front of the shocked cashier, unceremoniously sweeping a display of novelty butane lighters to the ground. "He got hit with some sort of fever," she explained, losing patience as the teenager behind the counter stared at her blankly, mouth agape. "Hey! Pay attention! I've got him stable and he shouldn't be contagious but he needs water and an ambulance, got it?" "Ah, r-right, I'll call for one right now, right," the cashier stammered, snapping her mouth shut over braces and reaching for the yellowing corded phone with chipped nails. She took a second look at Jill and worked up the courage to blurt, "Is this, like... a super thing?" The masked EMT-B paused for a moment, her shoulders dropping slightly in her dark red jacket. "...not sure. Maybe. This is the fifth case I've run into tonight and the symptoms are getting worse." She looked down at the unconscious boy for a moment before heading back for the door. "I need to get back out there. Take care of him, alright?" The teenager nodded more resolutely this time and Jill was out the door again in a sprint.
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Eyes still squeezed shut, Ghost Girl nodded quickly as she straightened herself out in the air to float alongside Wraith. <"I know, sorry, I'm okay. It's just... it's just a lot."> Forcing herself to calm down and open her eyes, the phantom squared her shoulders deliberately and swallowed. The screams were still deafening but she could set them aside with considerable effort. They had a job to do and the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass Wraith - not to mention all of Earth - by dropping the ball in front of all the alien soldiers. It helped that she now had a very good reason to want to tear into the Communion, a darker part of her added internally, her eyes glittering like chips of ice floating atop hollow sockets for a slit second. <"Where do we need to go? I can go invisible if we need!">
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"I dabble, in fact," Nassor admitted with a modest shrug. "The school curriculum in Dakana is very well-rounded. I heartily recommend it for your nephew, if that is of any help. The discipline of a martial art rarely goes amiss and you may be surprised how quickly clumsiness may be trained away into strength and sureness." He looked back over at the sign and frowned very slightly, looking pensive as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "As for affiliation, ha, that is a surprisingly complicated question. The fellow who has his name on the sign is a cousin of mine, several times removed, admittedly, but we come from strong family traditions, if you will. We parted on rather poor terms when last we spoke however and being in Freedom City after some years I have been debating how best to reintroduce myself." He looked back to Stesha and smiled again. "Strong traditions make for strong dramatics, I fear! I acted somewhat uncouthly then and my cousin is one to hold a grudge, I think." "In fact I don't have the honor of that nom de famille," the man on the roof corrected with a lopsided smile framed by an immaculate maintained blonde goatee that ended in a well-defined point. He was keeping his hands raised in front of him as promised, leaning nonchalantly against a trellis. "I am leur père, though, as you've surmised. Jean Pique, at your service." He bent foward at the shoulders in a sort of bow, careful to keep his hands when Chris could see them. "I suspect I am here for much the same reason you are yourself, oui?" His expression darkened a few degrees, the friendly smile slipping slightly. "I... underestimated the House's response to la naissance de ma petite-fille last time, my intent was to be more watchful the second time around."
