Gizmo
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Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Assume that the parts arrived while Sei was talking to Eject over the comm, Heritage. She's got everything she needs so long as she's willing to get a little creative! As for the roll, it's a good start! It's going to take her a solid minute to actually get the things up and running, which is to say ten rounds from when combat begins. Each round she can either take a full round action and make a Craft (Mechanical) roll against DC 20 - which Ana would automatically pass - or take a move action to make a roll against DC 30, which is trickier but frees her up to use her standard action for something else, which may end up being handy! Ten successes either way means the FTL drives are back online. Feel free to get a post up for Ana IC now. Meanwhile, let's get an Initiative check from everyone so we can get the party started. Blue, let me know when you want to activate the Master Plan.
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Set looked as though she'd received an open palmed slap to the face, back suddenly ramrod straight. "Bright Ra, what happened to that boy?" There was a world of difference between poking at someone to find their buttons and accidentally gouging a thumb into an open wound and twisting. She didn't need to leverage her abilities to recognize a very familiar expression: survivor's guilt. "...go. Please," she asked Eliza, producing her smartphone and pulling up an app with a barcode. "I shall see to the debt. I am... sorry." Her shoulders slumped, the godling refused to make eye contact as brick red hair slipped free to hang across her face. "Jealousy makes a monster of me, as always."
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Eject looked at the comm speaker silently for a beat before placing a hand over one eye and taking a deep breath. "...this is the big, reptilian one, isn't it? Fine. Alright. That's-- alright." Letting out the breath quickly, the Lor officer clapped her hands lightly and rolled her shoulders. "Honestly I haven't even had time to meet the engineering crew yet so for all I know your Terran friend might really be the best on board. Why not? It's that sort of day. Just remind 'Ana' that every life on this ship is counting on her and ask her to keep me informed. Captain out." She pressed a button with the heel of her palm before hitting another to address the entire ship. "Attention everyone. This Acting Captain Samran-86. I won't try to feed you sweet paste, we have hostile ships inbound but we also have allies. The Praetorians are here to give us a fighting chance and I swear to you that's all we need. We did not survive the destruction of our home to die here. Please stay in the hold but be ready."
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"Bumpy 'equipment'? You truly should consult a physician," Set warned with exaggerated concern, meeting the wink with fluttering eyelashes. "Still, I'm terribly difficult to stay upset with. Merely ask your lovely companion." She was surprised by how smoothly Sharl had recovered from her wanton suggestion; she could tell the young man was sweating metaphorical buckets but she could at least respect his fiercely maintained composure. 'Fake it 'til you make it' appeared high on her list of commandments, after all. The abrupt absence of his leg, though, that was interesting. Not a spirit, presumably, given his ridiculous assertions of scientific explanations but perhaps not another simple metahuman either. "From whence do you hail, oh emerald eyed egoist?" Silently slipping off her sandal under the table, the godling probed a little more insistently, raising her foot toward the seat of Sharl's chair and straightening her leg, aided somewhat by a knee that could bend at whatever angle was most immediately convenient. Not wanting to be an inconsiderate guest, her opposite ankle crossed against Eliza's like an affectionate cat looking for attention. From the waist up Set remained perfectly stationary save for taking an expectant sip of her coffee.
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"...right," the boy replied simply as he watched Bliss drop back to the ground, leaning over the edge just long enough to make sure he didn't miss the display before ducking back out of view. The former gladiator found the bar her partners had entered without trouble and stepped inside to find Roulette and Ruby speaking to a Zultasian and Grue among other species represented among the patrons. The Grue grunted a sullen affirmative to something Ruby had said while Noz spoke up. "Bit far from everywhere, chummer. Grue took a lotta heavy hits lately. Those shiny @#$% that did in Lor-Van seem to got a taste for them, if you ask me. Unity'll bounce back eventually, probably, but for now some of the smart ones didn't take it real well how disposable their big brain boss treated them." "Can... speak for myself, Noz," the Grue interjected, although the hesitation in his - or her, it was always tough to know with the red shapeshifters - voice suggested it was a fairly new concept. Looking past the species, he was much like all the other refugees the Voidwalkers had seen in the city, haggard and desperate but determined to do what they had to do to survive. Noz raised his hands in apology. "Fair enough, K'jel. As for a new sheriff, Mr. Cool Guy Visor, that sounds like a 'tomorrow' sort of problem to me."
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The visiting instructor put an index finger to the side of his face and gave Aleksander a sidelong look. "Pragmatic. Bit grim." On the surface it seemed like an odd thing to hear from someone who had so far shown approximately the same amount of emoting as a sandbag. Certainly he wasn't overflowing with effusive enthusiasm himself, either. On the other hand it didn't sound like a criticism to the high school student so much as an objective observation. Alek's life had instilled certain biases of which it was important to at least be aware. "Curiosity is good. Won't leave you wondering." With a small ding, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, revealing the empty expanse of the inactive Doom Room.
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Nae-Dae's response over the comm was a garbled mess rife with static but Rock was too focused on the task at hand to hold up his usual standard of conversation anyway. "Rock!" A ton and a half of stone slammed into the tower's outer wall again, widening the cracks he'd made there so far. Materials converted at the molecular level to computronium buckled and gave under the force of his blows as he struck again and again. "Rock!" The Communion had killed an entire world, hollowed out its soul to use the husk and claimed to have done it a favour in the process. The enraged titan wasn't going to be satisfied with merely carving an escape, he was going to bring the macabre monument down around its creator. "ROCK!" Bellowing his fury, Rock focused all of his might into a final punch, shattering the entire wall.
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Rock Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs. Communion Drone; Power Attack 2: 1d20+3 20 That's another DC 32! Extra Effort: Surge Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs. Communion Drone; Power Attack 2: 1d20+3 23 Critical hit! DC 37!
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The expression Set made as she folded her arms under her bust and pursed her lips was less pouting than it was annoyance and frustration being smothered by chastisement with some difficulty. "Hmph. Tis not as though I would have interrupted had I recognized you..." She glanced at Eliza and sighed in resignation. Satisfaction was obviously going to have to take a backseat; she had no desire to bear the brunt of the elementalist's ire particularly if it meant giving up the moral high ground to young man to her right. "Very well. Consider the matter closed. Although..." It hadn't escaped the godling's notice how uncomfortable Sharl was with public touching or attention. She looked him up and down with a smouldering intensity and slightly parted lips, one shin nonchalantly brushing against his calf under the table while she shifted her crossed arms slightly upward. "...should he truly be good enough in bed to warrant enduring the deficiencies of attitude, might I borrow him sometime?"
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Samran-86 looked skeptical as Paradigm began her introductions but as the clone's eyes lit up with faint light and the paragon felt a light presence in the back of his mind, Eject's expression turned grave. "Void's breath, you're telling the truth. If you really have intel on these monsters we need to get you to the fleet immediately." "Sir, that bigger ship is going to be on top of us any moment," the copilot interrupted, looking between the Praetorians despite himself with a mixture of curiosity and hope. "Bunch of those smaller, pointy ones, too, I think. Hope you can handle as many as your friend," he added to Kharag. Eject took a steadying breath to cover the urge to curse and hit the comm button on the console next to her. "Engineering, how are those engines coming?"
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"Um." The boy on the rooftop looked a little nonplussed by Bliss' unexpected question, glancing about his makeshift hovel. "I take care of myself alright but nobody else, no." The second part of that was obviously true even if the first half seemed more than a little generous. Based on how ravenously he'd eaten the first bar the bounty hunter had offered him and the way he'd hoarded the second it was pretty clear he was barely managing to feed himself. The former gladiator also recognized obvious signs of old injuries, mostly healed but having never received proper treatment. Some of them might have been from falls or mishaps but most she knew could only have been the result of violent beatings. With the number of refugees living on the streets she'd seen just on the way from the spaceport Bliss could assume competition for resources was stiff among the homeless. The boy was quick and clever but given his age neither quick nor strong enough to fend for himself indefinitely.
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"Well, the worship tis negotiable, naturally." Set leaned back in her seat with a pout. It was a fantastic pout, too, drawing attention to her eyes and lips, just the right balance of wounded puppydog and maintained poise. It was hard to miss, however, that she was also keeping her hands pointedly to herself after Eliza's polite but firm rebuke, occupying them with her coffee cup instead. If she'd known she'd be interrupting a friend's personal time she wouldn't have sat down in the first place, the godling admitted inwardly, but pride meant she could hardly allow the obnoxious green-eyed cretin to have the last word at this point. She could either attempt to smooth things over and part amicably or aim for unequivocal victory. Horus would have done the more selfless thing and left Eliza's friend to his sad little delusions in peace, she knew. On the other claw, Sekhmet would have already throttled the arrogance out of him by that point. Set felt reasonably good about splitting the difference. "Then your sipping sounds strangely akin to disparaging remarks regarding the lineage of others, oh contentious clod. Mayhaps a visit to your physician would be prudent?" She quirked an eyebrow, keeping the expression she gave Sharl polite even if her words couldn't quite manage the same. "I require none to bow nor scrape before me. You have an unimpeachable character witness and your credulity be your own concern but I shall not suffer to be dismissed nor diminished by one ignorant of the subject."
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"Rock!" The animated remains' claws scraped distressingly across the surface of Rock's stone form but did little actual damage. One of the things was little match for the well-spoken statuary but the entire horde converging on them was another matter entirely. Going straight down through the floor seemed to be out of the question but Rock hadn't given up on opening up an avenue of hasty escape. Brushing off his attacker he lowered one shoulder and rammed his full bulk into the outer wall of the room they were in, pieces of infrastructure giving way under the force of his blow. Over the comlink back to the Horizon he shouted, "Rooock!"
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Whoops, sorry! Rock Toughness Save vs. DC 28: 1d20+15 33
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"Ol' Zaul's been running this town longer than any of us have been here 'cept Naouk and we're pretty sure Naouk was born on that stool," Noz drawled, sliding his empty glass toward the edge of the table and tipping his chin toward it significantly. "Course things have gotten worse since all these folks started showing up looking for a place to stick their heads in the sand. Lotta desperate bodies to bilk but you got fights breaking out and resources getting scarce, too, things you wouldn't mind having a real lawman around for. Bloom's off the quros, get the feeling Zaul's got his eye on greener pastures." A sly smirk slowly spread across the Zultasian's face. "'Spose it might be worth something to know where he's hanging his ugly ass hat at night, hm?" Iqué scoffed as he moved from around the bar and refilled Noz's glass. "You do not know that, old cheat. Zaul is bootscum but he is clever and very careful." Noz's smile widened enough to show teeth. "Oh no?" He jerked his head at the nondescript Zultasian across the table from him who hesitated with a morose expression before sighing. The second spacer's skin took on a wet, glossy texture that quickly spread to include his clothing as well. Like putty his form ballooned until Roulette and Ruby were looking at the spitting image of one of the two Broan who had been accompanying the sheriff earlier. The shapeshifter folded his arms as if to ask if the collective audience was satisfied before melting again, this time solidifying in the unmistakeable garnet complexion of a Grue.
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Rock Unarmed Attack vs. Communion Drone; Power Attack 2: 1d20+3 10 Since going down through the floor seems to be a bad idea, Rock is going to try knocking a hole in the wall to create a window instead.
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It was not unusual for a god to transcend the trivialities of language; language was after all a means to convey ideas and gods were, to a certain way of thinking, ideas conveyed in their ultimate form. As a patron of foreign lands and those that lived there, however, Set's gift for tongues went well beyond mere comprehension, from idiom and inflection to enunciation and euphemism. Having recognized something in the infinite subtleties of an individual voice she saw through the attempt at obfuscation immediately and lit up with a beaming smile that would have put and sun deity to shame. "Oh captivating corundum, we really must work on your skills for deceit," she chided teasingly, brushing her fingertips briefly along Eliza's forearm in a gesture that was familiar but almost demure compared to how readily she'd placed her hand in Sharl's personal space. "What an excellent surprise! To think you obscure such regal cheekbones behind a mask. Criminal." Set vaguely indicated the young man she was doing a fantastic job of thoroughly ignoring in favour of this revelation and added, "One wonders somewhat at the company you keep in your off hours, however."
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Ghost Girl Initiative: 1d20+3 11
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"Somebody has spent an awful lot of time memorizing my vital statistics," Set drawled with just enough throaty purr mixed into her tone to suggest she was still toying with the disrespectful skeptic. "Tis always lovely to meet a fan. I shall sign something for you should you like." Her voice cooled a bit as she warned, "Have a care who's relatives you speak against, however, or-- Hold." Something that had been itching at the back of her mind worked itself into a complete thought and caused the godling to stop mid-sentence. "Say that again. Not you." She placed a forefinger firmly against Sharl's lips to hold them closed, ignoring the slight tingle of static while turning her attention to Eliza, eyes darting about the lines of the young woman's face. "You. Say 'spiritual' again."
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"Laughing in the Freedom League's faces, you say?" a warm voice interrupted as Set smoothly slid uninvited into their unoccupied third seat and rested her chin in her palm with her elbow on the table. "Good times! Well. Bad times, but fun! Until the evil and the foiling. Laughter, though! Good for the ba." The godling's smile was undeniably charming as she glanced between the pair but although she didn't say anything to suggest she'd heard the more dismissive part of Sharl's comments there was an unmistakeable air of needling boundary pushing to her abrupt self-inclusion into the conversation. "So, no need for introductions, your discussion looked so intense I truly had to know the topic. Do go on!"
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While they chatted the bell on the coffee shop door jingled and a young woman with a flawless milk chocolate complexion and cascades of bright red curls sashayed inside, every movement dripping with confidence. The straps of her little black dress were arranged to leave precisely the right amount to the imagination and the novel shape defined by her heavy eyeliner drew attention to piercing grey eyes. Tucking the smartphone in her hand away somewhere that really should have affected the lines of her outfit but didn't, she approached the counter with a broad smile. "Hail, oh purveyor of caffeinated delights! I shall have an espresso with... pray, how many shot can you offer without concern of legal reprimand?" Looking over her shoulder toward the door for a brief moment she added. "Ah, should a tall, some might say over-muscled woman of a distinctly feline disposition arrive asking after me, I hope I may trust in your discretion?"
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Morgen didn't make any attempt to argue the point but he did wince noticeably at his old friend's assertion. "You are... not wrong, of course. The organization the boy works for, they're not so different from our old League. Tracking down time traveling villains, stopping dastardly schemes with moments to spare." He smiled a bit in spite of himself, remembering days which were a little older for Travis than they were for himself. "It's good work but narrow, you see? My 'outfit' is more focused on the bigger picture. The biggest picture." "Sounds like playing god," Travis observed bluntly, setting his tea aside entirely and leaning forward slightly in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly. "Good Lord, I did not honestly think you could become any more intense with age," Morgen admitted, leaning back a bit in response before he realized what he was doing. "And yes. It is. The alternative, though, is far worse, believe me. Still, there are... politics." The blond man hesitated, knowing he was saying more than he should professionally but just as certain that he had already made up his mind to do so. "Suffice to say your descendants cause a considerable amount of paperwork throughout the timeweb. What was it you always said? 'The right thing, not the easy thing'. All Mark's speeches, all Donna's rallying cries, that was always the message, wasn't it?" His grin belonged to a man who had gladly set himself against armies for the sake of what was right. "Well. It continues to get one in trouble with all the right people."
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Travis ran a thumb through the neatly trimmed hair of his goatee, considering. "Then their 'temporal inertia'...?" "Made the whole thing possible," Morgen assured him with a small shrug, "but it's hardly carte blanche, as our Francophone comrades would say. Five - well, six, really - timelines looping back to a shared, predivergent point?" The veteran time traveler pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, reflexively shuddering as he considered the prospect. "Without some oversight... well, a 'snarl' is perhaps oversimplifying but the sentiment is correct." "Whereas you're the universe's own macramé master, hnh," Travis snorted with a hint of a wry smirk that faded quickly. He looked down into his teacup for a moment and when he raised his eyes they were hard as flint. The look he gave Morgen wasn't accusatory but it clearly did not belong to a man who would accept any excuses. "Your outfit, this should have been their job, it seems. Even the Quark boy was late. Kept out of the way? Those two should have never been in danger," he insisted flatly with a small gesture upward to the estate over their heads, "not like that."
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Rock Sense Motive check: 1d20+10 29
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Set hopped down from the table, brushing lingering motes of shadowstuff and lightning from her fingertips and looking immensely pleased with herself as she walked over the rejoin the group. "And I worried my 'pull on dark forces' had escaped your notice, oh blizzardy beauty," she quipped to Temperance with a satisfied smirk, conspicuously adjusting the straps of her cross halter. Her expression turned more serious as she surveyed the warehouse. "Once we have seen to the beasts, the contents of this blasphemous lair would be best burned to ashes. Many nasty little toys I would not care to see fall into other hands." Sekhmet walked over to the former hellhound and took a seat on the warehouse floor nearby, gracefully crossing her legs beneath her. She did not reach out or otherwise invade the animal's personal space but remained a comfortingly immovable presence. "Aye, the reek of degradation and fell bargains be thick here. Better to cleanse it with purifying flame."
