Gizmo
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Closing his own eyes, Trevor returned the kiss, slow and gentle but no less passionate for it. "Works out well then." He held Erin close, drinking in the solid presence of her after the surreal experience of interweaving alternate timelines, altered events in the past and futures in question. They'd been left with more questions than answers and the snippets of potential events to come they'd been able to infer only make tomorrow seem less certain. This, here in the dim predawn of the present, was real and wonderful. Letting one eye open, he felt one corner of his mouth quirk as he tried to suppress a smile. "Still feel like I should apologize in advance for possibility of twins."
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The alumni waited while Aleksander spoke and allowed the younger boy to catch up a few steps so that he could lightly clap him on the shoulder. "Better," he congratulated the thoughtful youth with the faintest hint of an encouraging smile. Crossing the last few meters to the elevator, he keyed a ten digit code into the number pad to once side and the doors slid open immediately. He entered the metal box with a pair of long strides and waited for the student to follow before pressing the button for the lowest floor. He tilted his head slightly and looked over at Alek from the corner of his covered eyes. "Expectations?"
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Trevor's cheeks turned the sooty black that he apparently had at least a chance of passing down to his children and he coughed lightly into his fist. "Wonder who she got that directness from..." he muttered wryly under his breath before hugging Erin with a squeeze of the arm around her waist. "Know we've never... Try not to plan too far ahead. But you know you're the people I love." He stopped walking to turn enough to look at the auburn haired young woman face to face. He worked his jaw for a moment and swallowed quietly, trying to articulate his meaning as clearly as he could. "Whatever timeline, whatever name we give it, want to spend those decades with you. Anything else happens if and when we're both ready. Fair?"
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"Suddenly feel worse," Trevor replied with a small frown that was still comically exaggerated by his stoic standards. Dropping it after just a moment he slid an arm around her waist and led the way back into the manor, feeling a little silly simply standing in the middle of the garage next to a mystic circle and puddles of drying blood. They could worry about cleaning it all up later, for now they definitely needed some time to decompress. Stepping into the hallway, his mood turned pensive. After a few silent steps he began with some hesitation, "All of them seemed... good. Surprised. Never though I'd be a good parent. Not sure how that happened. Happens." He was sure he didn't know the first thing about raising children and the breadth of potential personalities the time travelers had shown only made the prospect more daunting.
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"That was certainly something," Travis commented with a subtle smile, breaking the quiet as he shifted his weight to his cane for a moment's rest before heading back into the main body of the manor. "I'll go make a few calls, have those boys in the armored car looked after. Sure you two want to talk." Redbird's hologram avatar blinked a few times before looking over to Erin and Trevor and abruptly winking out of view. "Ah, yes. Indeed," her voice came from the Night Cycle as it backed itself away from the couple toward the garage door. "I, too, have... an excuse." With something that sounded an awful lot like a throat clearing, the motorcycle turned gracefully about and absconded out onto the winding path that led from the road, her avatar flickering back into view as a rider before she was out of sight. In the suddenly very empty garage, Trevor turned to Erin and leaned into her shoulder a little. "So," he began in immaculate deadpan, "who were you thinking for godparents?"
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pc Sun Walker (PL10/11) - KnightDisciple
Gizmo replied to KnightDisciple's topic in Archived Characters
APPROVED -
As the Star Knights led by Cavalier streaked across the surface of the battle station like a rainbow fired from a shotgun it shifted and rotated, irising open on the side facing Lor-Van. From the revealed cavity a swarm of needle ships surged forth, tightly grouped enough to look like a single silver mass as they swept across the station's horizon toward the armored protectors. The Lorfleet vessels flying between it and the planet could see crackling energy building within its mirrored core, white hot and tinged with colours from the very edges of the visible spectrum. The Star Knights didn't need senors or instruments to tell them how much energy they were facing; through void and armor they could feel it radiating down to their bones.
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"Methinks someone has mistaken his place in the proverbial food chain," Set drawled, gathering handfuls of inky, viscous shadow around her own fists as she regarded the demon and his pet with a smirk. "Shall we correct his assumption, ladies?" Sekhmet responded with a primal roar that shook the rafters of the warehouse, her sundisk flaring with solar fury as she charged for the hellhound. A haymaker punched wrapped in golden flame cracked into the beast's jaw without mercy and adding the acrid smell of burning hair to the foul brimstone stench around them. The goddess' stance was unmistakably feline and predatory even as she remained in human form, ready to press her advantage. A pair of globules of shadowstuff followed quickly behind her, smacking into the crumbling wall on either side of the demon's head. Hopping up atop the workbench and giving him an infuriating, toying look, the godling gestured with one upraised hand for the unholy creature to try his luck.
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Midnight gritted his teeth stoically as the massive fist raced toward his plane but his throat contracted in a moment of genuine, gut wrenching terror as Wander vaulted over one of the Rafale's wings and intercepted the blow. In the coolly dispassionate part of his mind, the calculating observer that rotated facts like three dimensional puzzle pieces until they fit together seamlessly, he knew that Erin was more than durable enough to weather the impact and withstand the crushing force of the ocean as she was dragged downward. He knew that she could hold her breath for tremendous lengths of time and that she'd made a tactically sound decision. The rest of him just knew that he was going to wipe the smug expression from the waterlogged, pontificating @#$%'s face with extreme prejudice. "Redbird, lock jet configuration to maximum thrust and disengage," he instructed, pointing the nose of the borrowed fighter directly at Typhoon. "Edge, send the princess to help Wander. Now." The clipped words were almost lost over the communicator's channel against the roar of engines as they output far more raw power than their human engineers had ever intended. With one hand on the yoke and the other on the eject handle, the vigilante glared through the cockpit's window at the despot, rapidly growing nearer. "See who falls." The tip of the Rafale's nose smashed into Typhoon's chest plate and began to crumple only to be followed by the rest of the jet, compacting briefly and then exploding in a furious ball of flame and twisted metal!
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Midnight II Toughness Save vs. DC 21.: 1d20+12 18
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Midnight II Free Action: Activate Master Plan; Knowledge (Tactics) check.: 1d20+15 17 Full Action: Slam Attack vs. Typhoon: 1d20+13 26 Given the jet's Flight rank, that should be a DC 28 Toughness Save.
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Sekhmet Move Action: Demoralize Hellhound.: 1d20+18 21 Standard Action: Charge Hellhound.: 1d20+9 25 That's a DC 22 Toughness Save with Affects Insubstantial 2, Incurable and Vampiric 4. Set Move Action: Feint Demon.: 1d20+16 23 Standard Action: Shadow Globule vs. Demon.: 1d20+7 18
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Above Lor-Van the Communion ships paused briefly as the Star Knights streaked onto the battlefield in force, luminous beacons of vivid colour against the backdrop of black void and silvery vessels. The singular intelligence directing them seemed to be taking a moment to process the new situation and adjust accordingly. The Lor Fleet ships didn't waste the opportunity, surging forward as one despite the sabotaged communications. A pair of capital ships plowed forth with all the speed their massive bulks could muster, flanking one of the splayed ribcage spider-ships and pouring on a battery of turbo weapons fire from either side that quickly tore their enemy to pieces. A furious dogfight between two squadrons abruptly turned into the rout as Lor fighters, having learned that the seamless needleships could shrug off their lasers, launched pairs of lepton torpedoes that reduced their targets to vapour and crumpled metal. For the first time since the attack had begun the defenders began to push the opposing fleet back. The advantage lasted for mere seconds, however, before the Communion ships received their new battle plan. All the while the massive, moon-sized battle station continued toward the front lines at an unhurried pace, visible now from the surface of the planet as an ominous and growing presence.
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"This way, ma'am," one of Iana's bodyguards insisted tersely, guiding the young woman by the shoulder once they exited the hovercar while his partner forced his way through the dense crowd ahead of them. "There's a private shuttle on standby, ready to leave for the orbital cities as soon as you're on board." The senator's daughter brushed the hand from her shoulder with surprising firmness and gave the taller Lor a hard look. "Once its loaded to capacity, you mean." Her guard opened his mouth to object but after taking a moment to weigh his option he instead snapped his jaw shut, the grinding of teeth just audible over the noise of the crowd as he silently nodded and continued to lead the way. "Look, what do you want me to tell you?!" a Lor with scraggly hair and a weathered hide jacket was asking in exasperation as they passed, arms spread toward the port authority official he was addressing. "I'm not some hotshot ace, I just haul cargo for a living. My ship doesn't even come equipped with a manual, I couldn't fly into the broadside of a mountain with my instruments jammed like this!" "You and half the pilots here," the official said, running a manicured hand through her purple and navy blue streaked hair. She looked at the datapaper in her hand with a look of helpless dread. "Dammit, if we could just get back online for even a few minutes..."
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"Pizza had my vote, bro, but I think the tribe has spoken," Daybreak grinned, slugging Tensile affectionately in his cybernetic arm and producing a resounding ring on knuckles on metal. "Hm... I bet I could totally rock a scar. You think? I mean, I'm not going to get one on purpose or anything but, hypothetically, any advice? Across one eye is probably overplayed..." Shuffling silently around the edge of the crowd, Mystery paused next to Travis, holding her mask in both hands and staring at her feet for a moment while she gathered herself. "Um. Sir...? I just wanted, um, to say... That is, with everything..." Puffing out cheeks tinged with a sooty blush as words failed her, the petite time traveler wrapped a hug around her ancestor's waist, tight as she dared without injuring the aging patriarch. "Thank you." With a chuckle, Travis patted her on the back. "Very welcome, dear girl. Can't tell you how much meeting you, all of you, means." Something glistened in the corner of the original Midnight's eye for a moment but decades of control and poise won out in the end. "So, guess you really were pretty good when you were my age," Hematite drawled with a hit of wry amusement as he pulled his own mask back over his face and approached Erin. "Always kinda wondered. Sure, I've had time to learn all your moves and improve on them, but still. Not bad."
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"Yeah, kid, I noticed," Jack assured Blodeuwedd, looking directly at the goggles covering her eyes. He could no more see the invisible young woman than any random passerby but his metamagi senses provided him with certain advantages. The eyewear and weapon at her hip were magical, certainly, even while her ring and accoutrement hummed with more subtle energies. "With all that stuff you're wearing you smell like licking a curio shop. Not that I'm one to talk, believe me!" The pair had stealthily made their way to the back door of the community center when the Scarab contacted them. "Don't disrespect the ventilation shaft," Jack whispered aloud, not entirely sure how the telepathic conversation was supposed to work. "But sure, if you just wanna waltz right in, that works, too."
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On the surface of Lor-Van, amidst piles of devastated rubble, the remains of the needle ships whirred to life, holographic projectors orienting themselves upward before springing to life and generating the image of a figure hundreds of storeys tall. Every display and sound system primed to receive a signal on the hemisphere facing the invaders lit up with the same visage and the same voice simultaneously. It was a face known to every citizen of Lor-Van, gaunt grey-blue skin topped with a flowing mane of white hair and tapered ears, coldly intelligent black eyes set above high cheekbones. "Salutations, my bitter enemies." Star-Khan. This was not the regally armored and cruelly laughing conqueror with whom the Lor were familiar, however. Gone was his star emblazoned breastplate, replaced with a black sheathe and asymmetrical, chitinous surfaces on his abdomen and right shoulder. Partially translucent cables sloshing with thick silver fluid sprouted from his throat, wrists and the base of his spine like parasitic growths. Pale yellow lines like circuit board patterns traced his pallid flesh, even stretching over the surface of those black eyes. His voice was as deep and resonant as ever but with each word there was an almost imperceptible hesitation as though he were somehow unused to such vocalizations. "Long has Kinan Khan waited to see the arrogance of Lor-Van fall to ruin," the hologram continued, spreading his hands as if surveying the plumes of fire and smoke at his feet, "but I speak to you this day not as conqueror but as herald for my new--" The veins in Star-Khan's neck stood out like cords and his eyes bulged but more fluid pumped through the tubes in his neck and the expression faded. "My new master. Know that the Communion has returned to claim its place as the dominant and only intelligence in creation. Your homes, your works, your bodies will be but raw materials for the Communion and in this you shall finally know purpose. Rebellion is meaningless. Surrender is unnecessary. You will commune."
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"Got one!" crowed the starboard gunner from his side of the corvette's bridge, his seat rotating about on its pneumatic tracks as he scanned manually for another target. "Good, now stay focused," Seven called back she wrestled with a vessel designed with atmospheric flight as an afterthought, pulling out of a steep bank through sheer stubbornness as much as anything else. There was no way to stop all of the needle bombers from getting through, not with the battle in orbit thrown into disarray, but if they could protect the evacuating populace there was still hope. A harsh buzz preceded the communications officer reporting, "Sir, we're getting a transmission! It's... coming from one of the enemy ship, broadcasting on all frequencies!" Without being instructed to do so, the holographic projector in the center of the bridge sprung to life again, the overview of the star system replaced by a single, immediately recognizable figure. "Oh fark no," the captain spat.
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"To the Pit with it, Cie, we're not leaving you here!" Dame Th'emme, brushing off the senate page who was trying to pull her away from the collapsed archway. The great hall outside the High Senate chamber was caked in the dust of crumbled pillars and sweltering with the heat of open flames. With a pained cough, the barrel chested retired general snorted. "Acceptable... losses, Diena. N-not letting... the whole high se-senate-- nngh!" The orange glow around the grey haired Lor's outstretched hands flickered as his decades old military mentat boosts began to fail, the matching orange hexagons holding up the demolished ceiling dimming dangerously. "Never thought... Get going, kark you! Naaargh! Get to your.. families, save... our people!" Hair almost white with dust, the tall woman set her jaw tightly enough that her teeth hurt. "...I'll see they name a medal after you, General." "Ha! Might sound... better coming from Enymor." Part of the telekinetic lattice buckled, a chunk of chiseled stone landing less than a meter away. "Go! Go!" With the old soldier's shouts ringing in their ears, the surviving members of the High Senate fled the ruined building.
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"A technopath from an isolate...?" Iana observed as she braced herself on one of her guards' shoulders against the sudden acceleration of the hovercar. "You're not Terran, are you? They always seem to show up whenever there's real trouble." The situation certainly qualified as silver ships gleaming in the sunlight raced down from the upper atmosphere like darts, pointed bows still red from the heat of entry. It took the stunned populace watching from the walkways a beat to realize that the fighters were making no move to pull up from their sharp dive. The first collided into one of the taller skyscrapers surrounding the Vox, tearing through superstructure with a deafening rumble, the upper floors toppling with gut-wrenching inevitability. One after another the ship crashed into the surface like massive daggers, striking walkways and promenades, research labs and eateries. Just as a needle fighter headed directly for the most crowded pocket of panicking vehicles packed with evacuating citizens the roar of sublight engines accompanied the appearance of a Lor corvette, following behind the squadron of enemy ships and spitting precise laser fire. The aggressor exploded in a glittering fireball just overhead of Sharl's commandeered hovercar and the corvette circled around and zeroed in on another target.
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"Sir, we've lost contact with command!" the communications officer cried in distress, rapidly tapping away at his console while the projected overview of the battle flickered and warped out of control. "All signals are being jammed or corrupted! We're flying blind!" Muttering curses under her breath, Seven turned her back on the useless hologram. "Not blind, just deaf. Give me a view from our on-board vids, three hundred and sixty degrees." The cameras spaced out around the ship's hull, intended for use when flying in atmosphere or docking with repair facilities, provided feeds for monitors around the outer wall of the circular bridge. The scene they painted was considerably more intimidating than the sterilized tactical view, with the space above Lor-Van filled with laser fire and explosions, deadly silver slivers flying past as streaks while larger ships shaped like curled spiders' legs fired from the tips of their spires. As the dumbfounded crew watched, a formation of enemy fighters swept past, ignoring them and the larger vessel they were escorting and headed straight for the planet below. "Bombers! Take us after them, they can't reach atmo!" "You want me to fly a corvette without instruments?!" her pilot asked incredulously, helplessly holding up his hands. The captain walked over to him with long, angry stirdes. "I did. Now I just want you to get out of my chair." When he hesitated, her eyes narrowed. "You should go." As soon as the cowed junior officer had scrambled out of the seat, Seven took his place and wheeled the ship around, sliding two fingers up the console to divert shield power to the engines. "Karkkit, we're not going to catch them..."
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"Hard starboard!" Seven shouted, gripping the railing in front of her as the artificial gravity struggled to compensate for the sudden momentum. The engine core of the corvette immediately next to them had been ruptured as one of the silver, needle-like fighters dancing all about them had rammed it head on. The enemy had proven more than willing to sacrifice its ships if it meant doing damage to the Lor home guard and they seemed to have the numbers to compensate for those tactics. "We've sustained damage to the port engine," tactical reported, waving away a plume of smoke rising from one of her consoles where an overload had caused a small electrical fire. They'd taken a hammering keeping the smaller ships off of the capital cruiser they were supporting but they'd been largely successful. At closer range the heavier fire from their larger ships was starting to make a dent in the enemy fleet. "Rebalance shield power to compensate," Seven instructed, eyes darting across the holographic projection. The ships further back from the leading edge of the mystery fleet had begun pulling to either side, creating an open channel down the middle of the battle. As she watched, something massive, the size of a small moon, began to approach through the opened space. "Oh good, I was worried we'd get bored. Inputting new firing solutions; stick to the plan and mop up those fighters. tactical, I want information on that battlestation now."
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"I'm really terribly sorry about-- what are you wearing?" Iana asked flatly in the middle on an apology as she squeezed into the hovercar, flanked on either side by her bodyguards. The senator's daughter regarded Sharl and his outfit with the sort of cautious suspicion that came with suddenly wondering if an elaborate practical joke was being played. "Is there an imperial faire nearby?" "Continue to the Vox at all speed, Citizen," one of the bodyguards instructed the driver humourlessly as he tucked his badge away. "There are shuttles at the upper tier port reserved for key personnel and their families, ma'am." "I've already told you, I'm not evacuating to the orbital cities without my mother," Iana replied primly, folding her arms with some difficulty in the cramped confined of the overcrowded hovercar. "There's not reason to think--" Her thought was cut off by shouts and scream from the walkways below them, where the panicked crowds her looking skyward. Through the windows, the Lor inside the vehicle could see red and orange tinged explosion, massive enough to be clearly seen from the ground and far enough into the atmosphere to be vivid across the reflected blue.
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Seven kept the concern off of her tight lipped expression as her ship fell into formation alongside the rest of the corvettes assigned to the massive capital cruiser to their port side. The fleet stationed in orbit above Lor-Van was reputed the largest single grouping of military might in the entire Republic, a massing of firepower so great that attack on the homeworld could never be tactically viable. While that was more or less true, the assumption had always been that by the time any significant enemy force could make it into the system there would have been ample time to recall battle groups from elsewhere in the Republic to fortify the home guard. The Lor clone captain didn't know if the approaching vessels had some sort of cloaking technology or a new form of FTL drive but they'd made it all the way to Lor-Van's doorstep. Seven didn't much like the idea of getting into a fight with those sorts of unanswered questions hanging over their collective heads, but worrying about that now was a luxury she couldn't afford. "Leading edge of unidentified fleet coming into capital turbo battery range," her tactical officer reported, the military precision drilled into the lieutenant helping to alleviate the nervousness in her voice. On the holographic projection of the battle dashed lines representing cannon fire rapidly filled the space between the two fleets. "Damage reports coming in... oh. Fighter class vessels demonstrating theta plus eight maneuverability, evading fire. Cruiser and up vessels deflecting maximum range fire with minimal sustained damage." "Didn't think they were going to roll over and die for us, did you?" Seven drawled, leaning over the bank of controls and readouts surrounding the projection."Here come the fighters. I want chain-linked fire in groupings one, two and three. Let's see you dodge this."
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Set Initiative.: 1d20+3 23 Sekhmet Initiative.: 1d20+5 24