Gizmo
-
Posts
11,085 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by Gizmo
-
If Dul'ce had had actually had glands like some primitive solid sweat might have beaded upon his forehead as he regarded his console. "Still gaining! Collision in seventeen frac-cycles! Fifteen, sixteen--" "There! Between those those two!" Faa'et shouted, pointing emphatically at a pair of asteroids hurtling through the void at cross purposes, moments from colliding. Each one easily dwarfed Theta-Theta-Gamma by a wide margin, their rocky surfaces dominating the forward facing view as they neared. "Insanity! We'll never make it through in time!" Dul'ce sputtered, recoiling instinctively from the projected display as visions of viscous red Grue paste dripping from the tremendous rocks ran through his mind. Faa'et clenched a fist in front of him and leaned forward in his seat. "Insanity for them to follow! Divert power from deflector grid to engines!" The second drone made the commanded adjustments despite Dul'ce's inarticulate protests, the entire bridge cast in harsh green warning lights as multiple imminent collision warnings sounded. On Dul'ce's monitor the dot representing the pursuing needle ship was practically on top of their own at the center of the screen. "Almost..." the captain muttered, eyes narrowed. "Almost..."
-
Set studied the inscriptions carved in the workbenches with some disdain, crinkling her nose as she ran her fingertips over the troughs in the wood. "Literal devils? How gauche." There was little mistaking the magics for anything other than infernal, textbook Faustian bargains designed for mass productions. She'd honestly been hoping to find something a little more subtle; what she saw in front of her was no doubt effective enough to snare many a mortal but there was an element of impersonality that bothered her on a professional level. Sekhmet made short work of the locks on the wolves' cages, freeing the wary, mistreated beasts. "Stand," she instructed them when the pack bowed in their four-legged manner, in no mood for worship for once. "Free of thy prisons, thee be hunters once more and ma'at shall be served. Show me the one who has trespassed against thee."
-
Set barked a laugh in spite of himself, nose crinkling in amusement as he turned back around to face the hydrokinetic, still perilously close to the edge of the roof. "Should I ever get around to canonizing any saints, oh masked marvel, you shall be at the fore of the list. You've the walking on water bit down cold already!" The godling looked skyward, clearing his throat and suddenly reluctant to meet Temperance's eyes. "Mayhap you mistake me, however. Tis not my words to the shade of Mary Hammer which vex me. Running tis good advice, as I well know. There lies the trouble, hm?" His shoulders slumped very slightly for a moment before he very consciously squared them again, the jocularity in his voice ringing a little false for once. "The pale shadow of a monster who left kin slain and spent lives like coin, clinging desperately, pathetically to delayed judgement. Sounds a bit familiar, aye? Truly, I ought to sue, but intellectual property law can be so fickle."
-
What does Set find out from the Arcane Lore check?
-
With neither Miss Americana nor Temperance keen to receive the benefits of her healing abilities, Sekhmet allowed her sun disk to fade away, not coincidentally allowing her less benevolent aspects to rise to the fore at Terrifica's pontificating. Only Caradoc's timely intervention stopped her from delivering a wordless but emphatic rebuttal to the immodest scholar's disrespect, instead giving the Mistress of Dread a moment to let out a hissing breath and grind her pronounced canines against her lower teeth. "...very well, armored one. An Eye of Ra may practice patience as easily as decisiveness. Thee, mortal," she added, the one golden eye visible behind her raven black hair glaring at Terrifica like a magnifying glass above an anthill, "speak as one of the betrayer's faceless electric flock, thinking never to truly face the targets of thy invective in the flesh. Know that a goddess of vengeance stands ready when thee would 'have thy words'." The snarl as she turned away made it clear that she intended to let her claws do most of the talking. * * * * * One knee under his chin while his other leg hung over the side of the building, Set glanced over at Temperance with a weak attempt at a smirk when she spoke. The godling's grey eyes seemed tinged slightly with red, though his face was dry and he looked away soon enough, speaking unusually quietly. "My elder self, you know, he could truly brood. Mastered the slouching atop a throne look, riveting stuff." Without warning, one of his arms blurred into motion, punching the rooftop next to him hard enough that one his knuckles left a trickle of blood in its wake. Overhead, thunder rumbled. "Tis more of a tantrum, though, aye? Hardly becoming. I blame hormones." With a bitter little laugh, Set got to his feet, barefoot now with his toes sticking out over the edge of the roof as he looked downward, wind tossing his brick red dreadlocks about. He paused for a few moments before continuing. "His petty temper, though, oh, that I received. All the bubbling blackness, so truly deserving of a second chance."
-
"Good god...?" Set asked with exaggerated consideration, sliding smoothly out of his bright red blazer as he stood and draping it around the disoriented public servant's shoulder. "Tis none matching that description here, officer!" With a broad wink and a sloppy salute, the godling favoured her with an ear-to-ear smile but all of the affectations of good cheer slipped from his face like water over wax paper the moment his back was turned. "Pray ensure Temperance's throat bares no great injury from her mistreatment, oh Patron of Physicians," he called over his shoulder before sauntering over to the square's statue of Wendall Phillips. Glancing at the inscription on the monument behind it, Set made a flat sound in the back of his throat and stepped into its shadow as though stepping off a tiled edge into the deep end of a pool, disappearing from view. Sekhmet rolled her eyes as she released Miss Americana from her unyielding grip. "He shall not be far. Apologies for thy rough handling, champion," she told the patriotic paragon with a slight bow of her head. "Thy form be formidable even with another at the helm." A disc of golden sunlight sprang into being behind the goddess' head, a halo of divinity that matched the light radiating from her raised hands. "Thy injuries, too, shall be healed."
-
"And they call me a liesmith," Set piped up from behind Temperance's shoulder, the sun at his back as he loomed over the weakened spirit and her unwilling host in shadow. Crouching down, the godling looked Southern Belle directly in the eyes. "Temperance tis a good soul, you see. You and I, though, we recognize our own kind, aye? So a word of advice, Miss Mary Mary Quite Contrary, one sin without the sense to pass into history to another." Leaning forward so that his mouth was near her ear, Set lowered his voice so that only the fading shade and the water elementalist could hear him. "You've cheated death for a terrible long while and been thoroughly unpleasant for even longer. I doubt you'll fade away; too many things would very much like a piece of one such as yourself. So, when you get where you're going... run. Run and don't stop."
-
Faa'et slammed a fist into the armrest of his chair. "Trying to ram us, are they?! They're about to see how the Unity deals with lesser scum!" Pointing a finger emphatically toward the image of the needle like craft on the main monitor, he commanded the drones, "Arm all maser cannons and fire!" The drones efficiently followed the instructions without question or hesitation, sending three bright green beams of coherent microwave radiation lancing out at the strange interloper. The silvery ship made no attempt to take evasive action, the maser blasts soaking into its unbroken hull without effect as it continued to pick up speed. "It's hull doesn't have any apparent weak points," Dul'ce reported with a hint of dread curiosity in his voice, the sensors giving him more information as the distance between the ships closed. "It must have been cast from liquid or constructed from nanotech..." "Bah, cheating cowards!" Faa'et spat, keeping more in the moment. "Parlour tricks are no match for the seething intelligence of the Unity! Set course for the asteroid field!" The drone at the helm controls responded instantly, steering them toward the meat grinder of floating rocks, some smaller than their perimeter vessel, some much, much larger. The needle ship smoothly adjusted its course to follow just as quickly.
-
Hematite glanced over at Erin and pulled a bit of a face, some of his stubborn awkwardness returning now that the crisis seemed to be mostly in hand. "Hnh. Sooner we get going the better, probably. We're probably already pushing our luck like stupid." "I look forward to analyzing the significant amount of data collected during this adventure," Blackbird chimed in, her hologram winking back into view atop her partner's shoulder and placing a finger to one side of her chin thoughtfully. "The genetic scans alone..." "Are pretty trippy, yeah," Daybreak finished with a tired looking grin, resting an elbow on his twin's shoulder. "Guess this is what big ol' family reunions are like for people who actually do that sort of thing, huh?" "Certainly... interesting," Trevor allowed, drawing a snort of amusement from his grandfather. "Hopefully we... versions of us... your parents say this already, but done the family proud. Good work, everyone." Looking up at Sojourner, then to the rest of the room, Mystery bit her lip slightly and shifted from foot to foot before moving quickly over to Trevor's side and tugging on his sleeve. When he bent down slightly she whispered something in his ear softly enough that even those present with better than normal hearing had trouble making it out. Straightening, the Hunter heir considered the suggestion for a moment before bringing it to the group. "Hh. Group photo?"
-
Let's get some fresh initiative rolls! Jack of all Blades Initiative.: 1d20+9 23 Jean Pique Initiative.: 1d20+9 19
-
"Our city. I keep saying, Min, it's our city. Let's keep the unscheduled demolition as Plan B for now, though," Erik suggested with a narrow eyed look toward the building in question. He was less concerned with showing the Katanarchists and their partners mercy than with avoiding any undue attention while they were handling their business. "I wouldn't mind giving them that object lesson up close and personal. We'll take them head on." Folding his arms, the fencer looked to the other two individuals on the rooftop. "They probably already know their ambush didn't pan out but they won't be expecting us to have come right here. We take them harder and faster than they can handle, no tricks, no showboating. Focus on anybody with powers but don't let the small fry swarm you. Clear?" The last was directed much more at his father than his wife. "Crystal!" Jean agreed with a faint smirk, keeping his serious assessment of the decided approach to himself.
-
"You'd be surprised," Ellie replied as their quarry scrambled on the slick hospital floors and ducked into the same stairwell they'd used on the way up to the second floor. "Still rude!" With each stride she closed some of the distance, more sure on her feet than the assailant in the hoodie. By the time she hit the stairs she could just barely see whomever she was chasing exiting at the bottom as she grabbed the railing and swung herself over it, dropping down to the first floor in a single drop. As she speedily turned around, however, all that greeted her was a pile of discarded clothes, hoodie included, lying before the hallway. "...what?"
-
The unhurried pace the dark haired man set brought them to the cafeteria in due time, joining a smattering of students having dinner or simply choosing to hang out at the long tables and benches rather than the dormitory common areas. The kitchen staff were beginning to wind down for the evening, starting by packing up the parts of the comprehensive menu that most of the student body couldn't safely digest anyway but when one of the women behind the long, curving counter spotted the pair standing in the entrance she let out a loud greeting and ducked into the back momentarily. By the time Aleksander and his instructor had reached the counter the stocky blonde chef had returned with a steaming pot of inky black coffee and a thermos with the school's name imprinted upon it. The proffered beverage was potent enough that its aroma hit the younger man with almost physical force even from a few meters away as it was poured. Accepting the thermos with a faint smile, the alumnus in the weathered fedora exchanged brief but evidently genuine pleasantries with the woman who'd recognized him, asking her how the latest crop of students had been while she insisted he say hello to his girlfriend for her. Turning to Aleksander he asked, "Want anything?"
-
"Shall be a treat for them, I expect," Set chuckled as he regarded the fallen mech suit before making a show of dusting off his hands. "Well! Tis only sporting to allow you precocious paragons to claim the spotlight here and you seem to have everything well in hand. Come Sekhmet, we should be on our way!" The goddess growled menacingly as she walked over to the shorter Heliopolian, her desire to be done with the entire affair apparently outweighing her distaste for following Set's suggestions. "We shall have words about thy disappearance from the midst of battle, betrayer," she promised in a hiss that seethed with tested patience. "And won't that be a delight!" her charge replied cheerfully, sauntering toward the alleyway where her and the high school students had emerged. Turning back to the trio he cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and called, "Remember to think on those favours! Raining out an intramurals match, tutoring for Ancient History exams, date to the Sadie Hawkins dance...?" With a wink and a flourish he stepped into the shadows and disappeared.
-
"Report!" Faa'et commanded, sitting down in the captain's chair in the middle of the bridge while the drones silently moved to man the helm and weapons controls respectively, awaiting orders from the more sentient Metamorphs. "Hold on, it's... alright, it looks like a ship, smaller than us. Maybe a single being fighter?" Dul'ce supposed, leaning over his monitor and trying to interpret what the sensor readouts were trying to tell him. "I'm getting power readings but no life signs and the spectrograph is... Here, we have a visual." The larger screen in front of them lit up with an extrapolated image of the interloping ship. Long and thin, it was shaped like a needle, barely large enough for the sublight drives at its rear and sharpened to an imposing point at the fore. The hull was featureless and silvery, with no obvious signs of weapons or sensor emplacements. Faa'et's brow furrowed as he brought one hand up to his mouthless face and tapped at his chair's controls with the other. "Design fails to match any known species? Impossible! The Unity's databases are the envy of known space!" "We are at the edge of known space. Sir," Dul'ce pointed out with a small shrug. Another, more insistent beep from his console drew his attention back downward. "It's heading for us and not slowing down. It's... it's gaining speed!"
-
Edges of Grue Unity Space Lor Timemark 1312.4 "Perimeter Vessel Theta-Theta-Gamma reporting all quiet," the Grue Metamorph named Dul'ce sighed, repeating the same message he'd been sending back to command twice a cycle for the entire duration of his posting. Cycle after cycle of staring at a field of stars, empty apart from a patch of asteroids or the occasional comet, lightyears away from anything to conquer or infiltrate or even just observe, just the arbitrary border of Unity controlled space past which there was simply nothing worth claiming. It was busy work of the highest order, that was the worst of it, Dul'ce reflected as he melted back in his chair, dejectedly allowing his form to become slightly liquid. The Meta-Mind could have easily focused on his thoughts, just like any of the Grue, if it truly wished to know what was happening on the frontier. The twice-cycle reports proved that it was simple bureaucracy, a tick in a ledger that no Grue would ever bother reviewing once it was logged. "Pull yourself together, Navigator!" a sharp voice barked, causing Dul'ce's outer layer to go spiky in surprise. The only other Metamorph on the vessel and his commanding officer strode onto the bridge, flanked by a pair of drones. Faa'et had taken to making his form a little taller and broader at the shoulder since his promotion and Dul'ce might have sworn his chin was even a little more square, though he couldn't imagine for whom Faa'et was making the effort. "I don't tolerate loose shifting on the Double-Theta Gee!" Dul'ce hid another sigh. The Unity didn't bother naming its vessels like lesser species and for good reason. Faa'et's attempts to give the scout ship a nickname were ridiculous, though the navigator never would have said so aloud. Just thinking that was about the captain would have been bad enough if Faa'et had ever bothered to read anyone's thoughts apart from his own. "Apologies, Captain. I was just finishi-- eh?" On the console in front of him a green dot blinked on, floating through nearby space before changing direction and heading toward them.
-
"That, um... that seems like it might actually be pretty good advice," Kimber piped up in the dread silence that followed the projected monologue, her bravado undercut in the face of the pooling nanite solution. The phantom suddenly felt a lot less confident that Indira would be able to simply metabolize the little metal horrors and she didn't want the rising tide of goop anywhere near Eve or even Tarva. "Everybody get going! Maybe I can slow it down some!" Floating forward and a little higher into the air, the phantom faced the dripping grey goo and allowed her jaw to stretch toward the floor like melting wax. "I dunno if you're still listening, buddy," she spoke to the walls, her voice taking on an oddly raspy, echoing quality as though coming from the opposite end of a tunnel, "but creepy deathtraps are one thing and just up and talking about what somebody does when they're naked is a totally different deal! Rude." A blast of wintery blizzard erupted from Ghost Girl's mouth with a howling scream, spreading layer after layer of ice across the nanites.
-
Midnight Initiative.: 1d20+5 25
-
"What, you're suggesting a lady in bright red and gold armor tossing around fistfuls of cash isn't the most subtle approach? Your ideas are new and strange to me, Banana-fana-fo-fuwedd," Jack murmured in a hushed tone, waggling his eyebrows as he watched the Scarab speak to the youths on the basketball court. It occurred to him that there was something oddly comforting about the supremely powerful psychic attempting a bribe before simply rifling though the minds of random passersby to get what she wanted, unorthodox though it may have been. "Meat Suit, keep a look out up here in case our flush friend needs backup. We'll see if there's a better spot to sneak inside around the side." Gesturing for Blodeuwedd to follow, the swordsman backflipped off of the rooftop and disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway.
-
Sekhmet Handle Animal check, HP reroll.: 1d20+10 19 That'd be 29 with the +10.
-
The soft-spoken alumnus nodded slightly and continued down the hallway without missing a step. He certainly seemed to know where he was going, which made sense, but even with the sunglasses obscuring his eyes Aleksander could tell he was methodically scanning the space around them as they walked, taking note of whatever had changed since he'd last visited the campus. It seemed more reflexive than paranoid, a sort of relaxed awareness that seemed to occupy very little of his attention. Only when they reached an intersection did he pause for half a beat. Turning toward the cafeteria rather than the training facilities, he tilted his chin minutely to indicate the teenager to follow.
-
"You possess a delightfully peaty musk," Set assured Skaere from somewhere to her left in the darkness, the godling's voice carrying a tense strain that undercut the pithy words. "Bracing yourself might be wise, however. Sekhmet...?" The shadows of the room were abruptly pushed back from the group as a disc of sunlight sprang into being just behind the goddess' head, a radiant halo that transformed the impenetrable darkness into midday. "Rrr... Butchery and rancid magics!" "Aye," Set agreed darkly. At some point since entering the warehouse she'd resumed her human form. "Mayhaps it would be best were you to see to the prisoners, She Who Mauls," she suggested, indicating the caged wolves. "Your gift with animals outstrips my own. Those sigils seem a better focus for my attentions."
-
Eden giggled at Chris' antics even if she didn't completely follow what was being said. "Are you a princess?" she asked Iana, looking up and down the Lor teen's elaborate outfit as she doted over the toddler. "Ah, well, it is a little more--" The acting senator's eyes were drawn upward by Ellie clearing her throat and giving the alien noble a significant look. Turning back to beam at Eden, she corrected herself, "That is, yes! Yes, we are." "At least someone is asking something relevant," Seven complimented Temperance with a short nod. "Don't know much about numbers but we do know where they're holding the senator and her husband. Lucky us, Czak has contacts with all the big shot scum and villainy." Electricity arced between the Tempestian's antennae as she grinned. "You canable admit you're aweimpressed, Shepseven," she crooned before looking at a readout attached to her wrist. "We have shortlittle time beforefirst arriving."
-
Sekhmet Free Action: Activate Environmental Control 3 (Sunlight, 25’ radius) [6PP] (sun aspect) Handle Animal check.: 1d20+10 11 Yuck. Let me know if that's worth rerolling. Set Knowledge (Arcane Lore) check.: 1d20+15 29
-
"When on an aircraft carrier..." Midnight muttered under his breath, too quiet to be overheard amidst the sounds of hydrokinetic battle. Flying wasn't his preferred method of transport during a fight but there it was certainly the most practical atop the turbulent waters. Sprinting over to one of the fighter jets parked atop the carrier, he pressed Redbird's egg against its side. The Furion technology melted into the airplane, disappearing as it merged with the Earth vehicle. The jet's silver hull darkened to a matte black, obscuring identifying marking and tinting the glass of the cockpit. "Primitive but serviceable," the autonomic machine intelligence's voice opined from within as a stylized feathered design emerged along the Rafale's wings in a deep crimson in aggressive contrast to the black. The cockpit opened and the plane somehow lowered itself almost like an animal kneeling its front legs, inviting the laconic vigilante inside.
