Gizmo
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There's a GM post for you, Shaen. I'd still like to hear from Graft and Blod in-character.
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The three teenagers all seemed predictably startled by the Scarab's abrupt appearance but had enough aplomb to quickly play it off and accept the proffered bills. The shortest, a wiry youth with immaculate cornrows who looked like he made up for any deficiencies in height with quickness, thumbed through the bills to count them then gave the armored heroine a wry courtly bow with a toothy grin. "Ma'am, consider us adequately compensated. You have a good night." The basketball player to his right, somber and tight-lipped with a shaved head, nodded to the Scarab politely with the manner one might have usually reserved for a respected teacher or reverend and both began to walk away. The third, a heavyset young man who looked like he probably weighed as much as his friends put together for all that he carried it reasonably well, hesitated. "So, like, is something going down?" The more verbose teenager looked back with exasperation. "Man, c'mon! Don't make us look bad in front of our new favourite hero. You misunderstanding the definition of 'discretion' or what?" "It's not like that," the inquisitive youth shot back, annoyed. Looking back over to the Scarab, he explained, "Listen, I seen you on TV before, you fight, y'know, big guys. Heavy hitters, yeah? And things have been messed up lately. Rico's brother got capped in the leg and nobody's even seen the guy that did it before." He seemed more perturbed by the idea of unknown persons in the community than he was about the gun violence. "So I'm saying, like, if something is going down, maybe we can help or whatever?" His girth made it difficult but he straightened his back and squared his shoulders enough to indicate that he was serious.
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The pair raced out of the locker room in time to see a figure obscured by a ratty grey hoodie sprinting away from them toward the staircase, leaving an overturned plastic cart and a floor covered in neatly packaged medical supplies which had spilled everywhere when it tipped over. A startled looking nurse was only then stepping out into the hallway, head whipping back and forth in alarm. "Th-they tried to attack the patient!" she managed when she saw Ellie approaching, pointing back into the long term care room with one arm and after the fleeing individual with the other. "Call security!" the newly minted EMT-B shouted back as she took off down the hall, clearing the cart and its debris with a jump that sent her kicking off one of the walls with one shoe and continuing her sprint on the other side.
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Skehmet Opposed Grapple Check.: 1d20+16 22 Gulp! I'll burn one of Set's HP to reroll that. Opposed Grapple Check, HP Reroll: 1d20+16 32
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"I do not fully ken thy madness," Sekhmet admitted in a low growl as she reared up on her hind legs and resumed her human form, fists bursting into scorching flame the instant they ceased to be paws. "But Temperance has the favour of She Who Mauls and thy soiled hands shall not touch her again!" The possessed police woman weathered the goddess' initial combination of brick shattering jabs but in doing so threw herself further out of balance, limbs tangled in ribbons of ice. Sekhmet smoothly clamped one fiery hand around her foes' wrist and twisted her arm about, locking the Southern Belle in a fierce wrestling hold. Set visibly let out a breath he had been holding in. "Hah, thank sweet fluffy Ra. The second step of Operation: Poke the Proverbial Bear had continued to elude me." Sniffing, he straightened his jacket briskly and hurried over toward the continued brawl. "Naturally I knew you required no assistance," he assured Temperance with a light cough, "but one must cultivate a public reputation for teamwork, aye?"
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Skehmet Free Action: Shift to human form. Move Action: Demoralize Southern Belle.: 1d20+18 36 Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs. Southern Belle; All-Out Attack 2, Power Attack 2.: 1d20+7 21 That's DC 24. Free Action: Improved Grab: Opposed Grapple Check.: 1d20+18 32
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Set Move Action: Arrange Shapeshift: Leaping 1 (x2) [1PP] Speed 3 (50MPH) [3PP] Super-Senses 1 (Olfactory; Acute) [1PP]
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Set wove the fingers of both hands through the fur of the proffered forearm without any further prompting, making an appreciative sound in the back of her throat. The godling's touch was light and nimble, easily moving through the honey hued locks without becoming tangled. After a moment Skaere realized she was following the contours of the werewolf's dense musculature. "You must have beautiful hair in your human form," she observed, eyes flicking briefly up to Skaere's mane. "Tall, as well, aye? You're doing quite well for one who did not come by shifting by choice." The tone was different from the godling's earlier effusive complements, sounding somehow older and more world-weary while still encouraging. Mentioning her new friend's involuntary transformation aloud seemed to abruptly make Set aware of the looks the other patrons on the patio were giving them and more importantly Skaere's annoyance with the less than positive attention. Releasing the werewolf's arm and taking a step back, the godling made a show of looking her up and down as though considering an outfit someone else was wearing. Then with a languid stretch Set's form distorted, growing several inches while an extended snout and curly red fur sprouted across her bare arms and stomach. In moments she had adopted a slightly shorter, slimmer approximation of Skaere's hybrid form, her shendyt and halter having accommodatingly grown to match her increased size. Black tiger-like stripes cut eye catching swathes through the red and encircled her eyes. She grinned toothily, exposing elongated canines. "Be honest, do I make the look work?"
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There was a palpable silence before anyone really registered that the Centurion had asked them a question. The blood on his face looked completely out of place; LaMarr realized after a moment that the idea of the Centurion bleeding had legitimately never crossed his mind. It was Jav who finally piped up, sauntering over with forced nonchalance that covered the slight limp he'd been sporting for the past several hours. "C'mon, big guy. Do you?" Yelena snorted flatly, crossing her arm and refusing to even look in the direction of the opened roadway. "Honestly. Can teleport. If I was leaving, I would be gone." Huffing, she went about her business. Not entirely concealing a small smile, Wail looked up at the blond paragon, rolling his shoulder to loosen up the muscle that had been straining to support the truck. "There you go. I know you cape wearing brothers don't always think too highly of 1-800-JUSTICE but you know we don't lie down while we're still on the clock." Moving to stand next to Jive he gave the Centurion a solemn nod that communicated respectful thanks despite the jocular tone of his words. "You just knock the fool behind all this out. We've got Lincoln covered."
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Stooping into a more stable crouch atop the listing carrier as they arrived, Midnight waited until he was sure Wander had the helicopter literally well in hand before turning his attention to the mayhem into which they'd teleported. His mask, with its built in goggles and breathing apparatus meant that the water flying everywhere impeded him less so than it might have but there was still so much to keep track of at once. --French ship, your call. Follow your lead,-- he telepathically deferred to Eve privately while he produced Redbird's silvery egg form from his jacket and scanned the planes parked atop deck. --Borrowing a Rafale.--
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Chris is pretty sure Star Khan is a bad dude but he's also a bad dude in charge of a whole galactic level civilization and Chris can probably make the leap that some Lor might be a little cool toward the idea of just loading up ship after ship of their citizens to throw against a massive, extremely well armed army in a fight that doesn't really seem to have any clear exit strategy or win scenario. There's a difference between defending your frontier settlements from raids and declaring total war, after all. Shepherd-07, meanwhile, is doing a pretty awful job of hiding the fact that she thinks any kind of peace talks with the Khanite are a waste of time and that you don't let a bad dude continue to be a bad dude because maybe he'll fight back. Of course, she also just mentioned that she's a clone career soldier, if the numeral surname wasn't enough of a tip-off, so she's got some biases, too. Chris still has no @#$% idea why a princess is also a senator or whatever is apparently going on there.
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While Cobalt Templar took watch at the gaping hole in the base's wall, Midnight took a more direct approach and stepped through the twisted metal and out onto the ice and snow. Redbird was already pulling around to meet him in the Night Sled, signaled by a silent transponder in the stoic detective's belt. Anything with enough power, physical or otherwise to tear a whole like the one he'd just exited through wasn't likely to be intimidated by a solitary academic. If their would-be burglar had left so easily there was more going on than they'd been told so far, which was nothing new. However superhuman the thing fleeing the base was Midnight doubted it was faster than a Furion autonomic machine intelligence begging for an excuse to cut loose. Swinging one leg over to sit down atop the Night Sled he wordlessly turned to the others, his intentions clear as he gave them a moment to decide whether to join him or follow up on other leads.
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"Truly?! Truly." Tossing around lightning bolts and hail storms was one thing but there was something about attempted vehicular godslaughter upon his person that Set just found insulting.Scrambling up from the uneven ground where he'd landed after flinging himself out of harm's way, the godling couldn't miss the crumbling infrastructure all around him. "Tis why your remain a third-rate pretender, witch," he muttered largely to himself as he made sweeping upward motions with both arms, knowing that Weather Mistress was unlikely to be able to hear him. "No class!" Howling winds erupted from his side as he gestured, a palpable gale that pushed falling cinder blocks and twisted girders to either side of the demolished vehicle while Thrude freed it from its point of impact. Turning a strained grunt into a more polite clearing of his throat, he spared enough concentration to call through gritted teeth, "Could... easily parry debris, ahrn, indefinitely, L-lady Thrude but mayhap some haste...?" The Norse goddess was already gone before he could finish, carrying the villains out the collapsing warehouse to safety.
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How about Move Object 6 (Heavy Load: 1600 lbs; Power Feats: Subtle) [13PP] (high winds; storm aspect) to hold up the falling chunks of wall?
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"Suffocating," Trevor deduced between laboured breaths from Hendawhit even if he couldn't entirely parse the far future time-traveler's language. What their accidental guest did need in his atmosphere took a moment longer to reason out. It couldn't have been anything too bizarre or his various could-be children wouldn't have been able to breathe themselves when they'd stepped through the oily rifts into Hendawhit's version of the manor. Perhaps, then, it wasn't a question of what he needed in the air but of what he needed removed. Producing a collapsible breath mask from his belt and affixing it to the panicking old man's nose and mouth, the dark haired detective attached a capsule of compressed pure oxygen. At some point Daybreak's restraining hold around Knightfall turned into more of a mutually supportive hug. "But we did it, Hope. We won and we fixed it, yeah?" It was fairly clear he was trying to convince himself as much as his twin sister. "Whatever happens, we did it."
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Eden giggled in delight and clapped her hands when she saw Temperance's spinning ice sculpture, her attention thoroughly captured as the group proceeded down the corridor and came upon Geckoman talking with Seven and a fancifully attired teenager. "You are kind, Sri Geckoman," Iana was saying with a morose expression, "but we are truly mortified. We vow-- galaxies, is that her? She's adorable!" The change in demeanor was immediate as she noticed the approaching humans, placing a hand on each of her cheeks and bouncing up onto her toes to get a better look. "Take your word for it," the Lor commando muttered, studiously looking anywhere other than the toddler. "I'm tank-bred. I don't do children." "But you are muchso maternalwarm, Shepseven!" Czak piped up, bringing both hands together by one of her own cheeks in an exaggerated swoon, her antennae crackling with amused lightning. "You think I won't shoot you but I really, really will." "Ladies! Decorum!" Acting Senator Th'emme interrupted, hands on her hips as she did her best to stare down the two much more imposing Captains. "Ahem. We believe explanations are due. Our parents, like ourselves, are members of the Omgran'te royal family. Our mother, a vocal and respected proponent for peace has been kidnapped, along with our father, by warmongering extremists who desire more aggressive military action against the Stellar Khanite." The way the corners of Seven's mouth tightened for a moment suggested that she had something to say about all of that but she held her tongue.
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Midnight can make a 15 Medicine check with Skill Mastery if that tells him anything.
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Set Reflex Save vs. DC 17.: 1d20+6 19
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"Well, Ellie's in med school now, she's not really a kid anymore," Erik replied glibly, stepping forward to give the petite woman a brief one-armed hug that seemed friendly but a little tame and restrained for the outgoing fencer. Leaving a hand on Lynn's shoulder he stepped back far enough to get a better look at her, noting the colour in her cheeks. "Out of breath? What, if I'm not around to kick your butt you stop training?" His sister looked like she wanted to slug him in the shoulder as she moved forward herself but held off in front of Eden. "Hilarious. It's great to see you again, Lynn. How've you been?" The question was innocent enough but it was hard to miss the intense look of the keen eyed medical student as she searched for any clues that would help fill in the blanks of their friend's long absence. Letting go of their hostess' shoulder and turning to indicate his wife, Erik added, "You remember Min. ...wait, right, she didn't actually start going by Minerva until after you left, did she?"
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"Naturally, naturally," Set agreed with an easy nod, heading for the warehouse door once Thrude had scooped up the unconscious Stratos. "Duty tis my middle name! Well, were I to have a middle name. Or a surname. Well, tis the intent which carries weight, aye? I shall accompany you to the Freedom League's temple, they're all terrible fond of me over there." Stepping outside, he looked up at the sky, keeping an eye on the dissipating storm that had drawn his attention in the first place. The blonde goddess had a good point, the damage would have been severe had they not intervened in a timely manner. "...hm. I nearly forgot about the second one. Where did she land...?"
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"Ah. Goodness," Set opined after a pause, tapping the display of his phone to take a snapshot of Thrude, hair and cheeks covered in what looked like metallic soot, which probably would have been funnier if not for the expression which communicated very clearly her desire to commit unspeakable violence. "You do not believe strongly in moderation, I'm sensing," he called upward as he allowed the pillars of sand to gradually fall away into a sizable dune for Stratos' unconscious form to rest upon. Quickly checking the raving doctor's pulse he found with some relief that the Aesir had gauged the necessary force well and gained a greater appreciation for her target's surprising durability. "Well, that was bracing! Have you plans for dinner, oh prepossessing pummeler? Once you have had a chance to... ah, tis a little..." The godling indicated a position on his own face, his pointing finger taking in more and more surface area.
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Kimber looked over at Temperance and blinked several times before flitting around to float in front of the other young woman, gliding backwards through the air as they continued on their way. "Wait, you're the girl he was always talking about?!" The poltergeist's domino mask melted away as if she was concerned it was somehow impeding her vision. Looking the elementalist up and down as though seeing her for the first time she pursed her lips. "...I thought you were made up, and I actually know girlfriends who live in Canada." Avro seemed to pick up on the sentiment, leaning forward from Ghost Girl's shoulder and sniffing at Eliza, reaching out a cautious paw to bat in her direction.
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"Jebus, Nightie, don't kick the dead guy!" Daybreak admonished, rushing into the circle himself to grab his twin around the arms in a bear hug from behind, though they were evenly matched enough that he doubted he'd really be able to pull her back if she genuinely didn't want him to. "Or... mostly dead? Was that supposed to happen?" "The failsafe ritual was designed by Hendahwit," Blackbird reminded the group, equally unbothered by the nude man's sudden arrival and Knightfall's angry reaction. "Evidence suggests he did so in a way that would provide opportunity for his own survival." Hematite made a face, having a hard time not remembering the grisly video diary as he watched the barely aware Hendahwit. "So... what? The shadow thing just never existed now? We're good?" Travis made a sound in the back of his throat, tapping his cane against the garage floor in a syncopated rhythm as he considered. "Perhaps its an old man's pessimism, but seems too easy." Trevor, meanwhile, retrieved a tarp from atop one the half-disassembled cars resting nearby and brought it over to give their newest arrival some small measure of modesty. "Send him back, may just try again." The youngest of the group tore her eyes away from the place where the floating images had shown all of their timelines and stepped cautiously over to stand beside Sojourner. "Um, are you okay? That seemed like a lot of work, just now, with, I mean, with the chanting and... and everything?" Mystery chewed on the corner of her lip, hoping she wasn't insulting the raven haired gunslinger's fortitude inadvertently.
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"The nicknames are one of my many charming quirks, kid. I call her Lady Tin Britches," Jack elaborated, pointing with one thumb over at the implacable Scarab. "You can't really tell with the mask, but she loves it, really." Leaning against the large metal air duct housing sticking out of the rooftop with his arms still crossed, the fencer weighed the information they'd collectively gathered. "So. Not a lot of question that there's some serious abuse of trust going on here, huh? Trouble being that swinging down there and beating up a bunch of people in a community center is probably not Plan A material if we actually want to stop these guys, which rules out my main skill set. Anybody actually come with a plan in mind?"
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Set's dreadlocks flailed wildly behind him as he covered his face with his forearm against the force of Thrude's departure, looking upward after the goddess as he recovered. "...Ra's morning breath. You see, tis exactly about which I have been speaking! Bold acts of untempered heroism!" he observed to the still captive Stratos, thrusting his fist emphatically heavenward. "Tis exactly as Horus would have done. I think you may appreciate, Doctor, how such does not come so easily to us all." With a heavy sigh, the godling shook his head, apparently lost in his own thoughts. "For instance." Without warning Set's right arm came up in an underhanded pitch, flinging a barrage of inky globules of pure shadow stuff toward the mad weather manipulator. Several of the scattershot projectiles smacked squarely into Stratos' face, covering his eyes and effectively blinding him. "Effective? Certainly! Heroic? Eh..." The Heliopolian waved his hand back and forth in the air in a gesture of ambivalence, though no one was actually able to see him doing so anymore.
