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
-
Apart from some confused groaning the pilot in the mech suit was far too insensate to respond to anything Thoughspeed was saying to him. His telekinetic blade cut easily enough through the cockpit, though even with no sign of the robotic suits mystical self repair undoing his work it was still slow going making a hole large enough to extract the barely conscious cultist. Set, meanwhile, sprinted over to the fallen torso of the massive mechanism where the clamps holding the vault in place had twisted and collapsed, leaving the door to the metal cube hanging open. Ducking inside briefly, he reappeared holding a golden staff almost as tall as he was sculpted in the image of a hooded cobra, two ominously luminous green gems set in its eye sockets, fangs bared dangerously. "The 'intended target', I expect!" Before anyone could stop him, the godling plucked the emeralds free with long, nimble fingers and squeezed them tightly in his palm, uttering a word none of the Claremont students recognized. There was a rumble of thunder overhead and a flash of green light from between Set's fingers that looked something like the muffled death of a tiny star. When he opened his hand, dull grey dust blew away in the wind. Tossing the staff unceremoniously back into the vault with a clatter, he added, "Somewhat less desirable with the batteries no longer included, ha!" Hopping down from the ruined metal supports, he cracked his back before shooting a finger gun in TNTeen's direction. "Speaking of desirable! Well plotted, oh explosive emir! I dare say I owe each of you a favour."
-
"T--!" Set's eyes widened behind his makeup and he sprinted forward a trio of steps as Temperance was grabbed about the throat, the might of the storm gathering within him. The godling came up short as he realized that he was more likely to do harm to the water magister than the apparently nigh invulnerable madwoman holding her. A direct attack was not the way to go. Instead, he raised his phone to continue recording and laughed loudly and pointedly in Southern Belle's direction. "Hah! You truly would not last five minutes on the Tumblrs, oh most basic of &*!@#es." Making a show of tucking the phone into his jacket pocket, the godling adjusted his rolled up sleeves and walked calmly toward Southern Belle, making sure he had her undivided attention even as the other heroes attempted to hit her. "Little ghost, know me as the god of chaos. My elder self spent decades possessing a mortal shell; think you that I could not banish you quick and easy as breathing?" He raised his hand as though about to snap his fingers and instead gave the anachronistic bigot an infuriating smirk. Bringing both arms to chest level and spreading them to open his jacket and draw attention to his mesh top, he made a beckoning gesture with both hands. "Let us make this more interesting, hm? Come at me, sis."
-
Set Move Action: Feint Southern Belle.: 1d20+16 28 Set Up: Transfer benefit of Feint to Temperance. Standard Action: Trick Southern Belle.: 1d20+16 36 Trying to convince her to let go of Temperance and come after him.
-
Set Move Action: Feint Stratos.: 1d20+16 31 Standard Action: Shadow Globule vs. Stratos.: 1d20+7 20
-
PARRIED by Thevshi Jack of all Blades In accordance with the House Rules for Super-Senses, his metamagi senses become: Super-Senses 14 (Mental; EM Spectrum Awareness [3], Magic Awareness [3]; Extras: Accurate [4], Acute [2], Radius [2]) [14PP] (metamagi senses) This frees up 8PP. Also dropping one rank of Uncanny Dodge since he only actually needs to be paying once for Mental Senses, so 9PP freed. Buying +2 Intelligence, +4 Wisdom, +2 Charisma and +4 ranks of Skills. Updating his age while I'm at it. Rearranging Skill ranks a bit to give him: Skills: 84R = 21PP Acrobatics 10 (+15) Skill Mastery Bluff 18 (+25) Skill Mastery Climb 5 (+10) Gather Information 8 (+15) Knowledge (Streetwise) 14 (+15) Knowledge (Tactics) 4 (+5) Language 3 (Cantonese, English [Native], Persian, Spanish) Notice 11 (+15) Skill Mastery Stealth 10 (+15) Skill Mastery Survival 1 (+5)
-
"No one is launching missiles," Trevor cut in, his flat tone making it sound more like a decision he'd made than a prediction. "Of course we're going." He might have had a better grasp of the politics of international intercession than Erin but it had just as little effect on his decision making. He was hardly about to go back to bed while his best friends went off to get between two nations worth of metahumans regardless of who's toes he ended up stepping on in the process. "Dress myself," he told Mark. "Always mix up the belt pouches." He stepped out to do so and make a few predictably brief calls about Antar just in case.
-
Alright, trying to pick up the pace here a bit, folks. I'd like to see a post each from Graft and Blod sharing what they learned but I'll be moving things along shortly either way.
-
Erik grinned and bowed low over Min's armored hand, planting a light kiss on the smooth bark covering her knuckles. "You say the most romantic things, florecita." He turned back around to face his father and the dryad was able to see a certain energy common to the two men now that they had a clear goal, a mutual target. Erik stood with his posture a little looser, limbs made of perfectly coiled springs ready to explode while the subdued wince Jean had been sporting since being hit by the Katanarchist melted from his face. "Where are we headed?" Pique gesturing for the younger couple to follow him as he took a moment to shove the ensnared ninja who'd hit him with his boot. "Not too terribly far, worry not! You do tend to advertize your location somewhat, you know. They have commandeered an office space in the city's west end." He flashed a smile over his shoulder. "I believe they may have even rented it legitimately, which seemed a touch of class." His son snorted as they skirted along the edge of the woods, sticking to its cover for as long as they could. "The idea is letting them know who's protecting the neighbourhood so they stay away." "Ah yes. How is that working out, incidentally?" Before too long they'd made their out of the forest and down a few side streets before scaling the building across from the one Jean assured them was staffed by an alliance of Katanarchists and House of Swords members. "Now then," the Frenchman asked his son and daughter in law, stroking his chin, "what is our plan of attack, hm?" Something in the way he said it suggested a test as much as deferring to the locals for direction.
-
"Pie à la mode!" Kimber suggested with a peal of laughter, flying in a loop-de-loop much to Avro's vocal annoyance as he dug his claws into her spectral substance to avoid falling off. She scooped him off her shoulder as she returned to an upright position, holding the manticore kitten in her arms and scratching him behind the ears until he settled down with an annoyed snort, temperamental after the long day. "I kinda doubt we're talking about the same guy, though," she continued, weaving through the intruding beams of sunlight streaming through the breaking cloud cover. "Sharl - I mean Citizen - never even actually believed I was even really a ghost no matter how many times I stuck my hand through our corporeal buddy's chest to prove it! He was all, 'science blah blah empirical evidence blah blah blah computers blah blah square root blah blah!'" Kimber rolled her eyes as she imitated her stodgy if well meaning classmate. "But you're all, 'spirits and hidden stuff ooh ahh!' He'd have annoyed the pants right off of you!"
-
Erik Espadas tugged uncomfortably at the skinny black tie tucked into the collar of his light blue dress shirt as he led his family toward the recently reopened bookstore and the apartments above it. "This feels really weird, right? It's not just me?" When the letter had arrived at the dojo he'd had to read it three time before actually parsing the words. After that his first instinct had been to sprint right over to Silberman's and knock down the door but he'd hesitated. Vince had spent a lot of time looking for Lynn and Bill when they'd disappeared three years ago and never gotten anywhere. Eventually they'd had to accept that if they were still out there the pair hadn't wanted to be found. It had been a rough time for Erik and the other people they'd left behind and the fencer had been hurt and angry. Three years later, though, he had enough distance to examine those feelings with a little more objectivity and it gave him pause. Ultimately he'd settled on respecting Lynn's wishes and showing up at the invited time but the whole thing left him feeling uneasy and off-balance. "Well, I mean, I remember Billy saying he figured time moved differently here compared to his home dimension," his sister replied, her lips pressed into a thing line curved faintly into a frown and her words hurried as she did her best to frame things in facts and logic, "and we always knew there was a chance Lynn would just... keep going, instead of aging. So it... it sort of makes sense?" Ellie had dug out the vintage vest Lynn had given her for Christmas years prior and worn it over a deep crimson blouse and dark slacks. She continued to fidget with the buckle of her belt as they walked, trying to occupy more of her own attention. "Not really what I meant," Erik muttered as he put his own hands into the pockets of his khakis, the pants a little too crisp and obviously rarely worn. Turning to his wife on his other side he asked, "You're sure you're alright with this? Things got kind of rough with you two when... You didn't really get to know Lynn that well before she left, is what I mean."
-
"Yay!" Kimber clapped her hands and flew over to float in the air next to Temperance as they walked, Avro's scorpion-like tail swinging back and forth over the shoulder as he picked up on her excitement. "Gosh, it's a good thing we ran into each other earlier, eh? Most people would have had a lot of trouble when things got that cold! Well, I mean, a lot of the people I know are dead and they would have been fine," the phantom admitted, tapping a finger to one side of her translucent chin while ticking off the fingers of her other hand as she listed examples. "Zombies, vampires, spirits, other kinds of vampires, robot ghosts... Anyway, I should have thought of meeting more icy people too ages ago!"
-
"Cline!" Yelena appeared in a flash next to the speedster, flesh and blood hand restraining his shoulder. The teleporter's hair had become uneven, one side partially burned off before Jive had taken down the pyrokinetic who'd taken her by surprise. "Enough! He is not worth it." The traitorous inmate began to speak again and Jump's cybernetic limb lashed out in a brutal backhand that sent him bouncing off of the nearby curb to fall insensate again, followed by a string of Ukrainian cursing that would have given anyone fluent grey hairs. By the time she finished it was clear that she was holding onto Fast-Forward's shoulder more for support to remain standing than to hold him back. Drawn to the commotion, Wail jogged over, hands caked in debris well past the elbows from digging out survivors and more horrifyingly frequently bodies from the collapsed structures surrounding the site of the latest battle. Looking over at the tattooed Quisling and the expression on Richard's face he quickly deduced what had happened. "Man, hey. Listen." LaMarr's voice was still deep and resonant but had begun to develop a hoarseness that sounded terribly out of place coming from the broad shouldered hero. "Your moms, she's fast like you, yeah? And tough; way I heard it she used to go up against Big Blond back in the day, right? No way does she not get somewhere safe when this all goes down." The reassurance rang a little hollow despite his sound logic; so far they hadn't found anywhere that could honestly be called safe.
-
Sekhmet bristled reflexively at Teagan's backhanded praise, her better exercised pride responding more quickly than her less developed sense of humour. When it finally did kick in the goddess let her shoulders fall back into a more relaxed posture and gave the dragon a pursed lip look of amusement and concession. "Hrrrawr, twas a time when casting doubt as to the ultimate virtue of my form would mean death. Hathor may be fair of face and supple of bosom," she allowed with a tone that suggested she was repeating compliments she had heard repeatedly from the lips of others, "but the superior buttocks belong to the Lady of Slaughter!" Her volume rose a few notches past what was truly polite even on the largely deserted street before she composed herself with a sniff. "Thy be fortunate I have use for a slightly less attractive companion beside whom to better display my attributes, particularly if I am to be stuck on this plane for 'a few more years'."
-
"Oof, haha, you gladden my heart, oh princess of projection!" Set laughed as he regained his footing and gave Thrude a brief bow from the waist. "Pray tell what would be required, though, to upgrade to a comrade with benefits...?" The discussion was cut off by Stratos' return, the rambling mad doctor surprisingly the godling with his ability to shrug off Thrude's mighty blows with only mild pause. Lightning, he suspected, would be even less effective against a man well known for his many battles with Captain Thunder, leaving Set to cast about for another medium close at hand. Or rather foot, as he considered the blanket of sand crunching under his feet. "Apologies, Stratos, but your brain be clearly madder than a sackful of scorpions. Mayhap a padded room and copious tapioca pudding would be of benefit." Snapping his fingers again, Set sent a trio of twisting pillars of particulates surging upward from the floor, the sand twining together as it crashed into Stratos, holding him in place. For a moment it looked as if he was going to free himself before the bonds could solidify but another snap from the godling had a subtler effect, throwing his flying target off balance just long enough for the animated dune to ensnare the villain's limbs.
-
Set Reaction: Luck Control: Force Reroll.
-
Daybreak pulled a less than enthused expression of his own but took the scalpel from his sister all the same. "Maaaaan. Fine, but you owe me one." With some hesitation he pricked the end of her thumb as she held it over the bowl. Knightfall hissed sharply, her eyes quickly filling in with crimson and black as blood several shades too dark and considerably too viscous to be quite normal dribbled into the growing pool. Her twin retrieved the next knife from the package of medical supplies and added his own contribution to the vessel, unsurprisingly with the same odd characteristics as that of his sibling. Hematite took the bowl next, the unmasked strongman holding one glove between his teeth as he pressed just as hard as Erin to pierce his own superhumanly tough skin. He grumbled as the first cut failed to bleed at all, refusing to meet anyone's eyes until he'd found a spot on his palm closer to a vein with Blackbird's help. Once he did, the blood ran easily and thinly from the cut in direct contrast to the twins', leaving him to produce a small bandage from his belt before replacing his glove. "Just... make sure to dispose of that, alright?" he grunted as he added his knife to the pile of discards. Travis was next in line, placing the bowl on a nearby workbench as he supported himself with his cane. Redbird had brought the Night Cycle up to the garage and resumed a more mundane appearance for the vehicle, not wanting to miss the conclusion of the bizarre night. Trevor helped his grandfather with the scalpel, the younger man's lips pressed into a thin, serious line as he looked carefully between the pinprick and Travis' face, worried about his discomfort. "Old, not made of paper," Travis reminded him dryly, giving his hand a shake to get a few more drops out and into the bowl before walking slowly but steadily to stand behind one of the candles. With a flat grunt in response, Trevor went next, cutting a precise line exactly as Sojourner had, wisps of inky black mist rising from the wound as soon as the skin was broken. The blood that dripped out was swirling with the same black colouration and continued to smoke as it fell into the bowl along with the collected offerings. Mystery stood a little straighter as she watched, setting her jaw and taking the vessel when Trevor offered it to her. The youngest time traveler cut her hand with a wince, revealing the same midnight mist-infused plasma as her father, leaving a pair of slowly dissipating clouds floating toward the garage ceiling as she brought the bowl back over to Sojourner. "Is that enough?"
-
18 - Thrude - Uninjured, 3HP 16 - Weather Mistress - Unconscious 10 - Set - Uninjured, 4HP 4 - Stratos - Bruised x2 Set Move Action: Taunt Stratos.: 1d20+16 30 Standard Action: Sand Snare vs. Stratos. That's a DC17 Reflex Save.
-
Jack of all Blades / Jill O'Cure (19) >Growth Rings (4) >Adventures in Babysitting in Space (3) >Mystery at Bedside Manor (8) >Charity Begins at Home (4) Midnight II (9) >Midnight Dynasty (5) >A Cold Reception (1) >Until You've Crossed (3) Ghost Girl (6) >Night Rings (2) >With Ice Cold Hands (1) >Polar Vortex (3) Set / Sekhmet (20) >Getting Your Shots In (4) >Werewolves Are So Hot Right Now (2) >Extracurriculars (3) >The Spirit of Revolution (5) >Cast of Four (6) I'll rollover enough posts to Ghost Girl to get her past 15 and enough to Set to get him past 25. The Ref Point can go to Set.
-
"There, you see, Tarva?" Ghost Girl addressed the nervous sorceress in an encouraging tone as they passed by the tentacles. "We're rebels! Rebels are cool! We should get matching leather jackets when we get home! With patches!" The latter was aimed more toward Renard Bleue, hoping to win the French telepath over to her proposed team uniform. Even Kimber had difficulty keeping upbeat as they passed through the silver filled pipes, with their ominous, organic shuddering. "Guh. Does that make anybody else think of, like, a heartbeat?" she asked hesitantly, unable to resist peering downward, trying to spy the source of the viscous liquid.
-
Problem solved, doh-ho-ho!
-
Without warning, Sekhmet stretched like a sprinter taking their blocks in a motion that ended with a full grown, tawny lioness padding across the coffee shop's floor and sniffing about the table their morose would-be werewolf had indicated. "Snnf, rrr... The hidemonger's stench tis strong enough to track," the goddess informed Temperance, her feline mouth showing rows of intimidating teeth as she spoke. Ignoring the waves of commotion brought on by her companion, Set gathered the tray of caffeinated drinks and the paper bag of questionably priced baked goods from the counter and walked calmly out the front door back onto the patio. Rooting inside the bag, she produced a chocolate ship muffin larger than her fist and presented it to Skaere. "Tada!" Setting it down on the closest table atop a napkin, she leaned against the wall next to the lupine heroine, tilting her head so that her ponytail of gathered dreadlocks swung to one side. "Would you be offended were I to ask to feel your fur? Seems potentially quite rude but tis so fluffy!"
-
Sekhmet bared her pronounced canines with an angry growl as the fight began in earnest. "Rrrowrr... Betrayer or not, none of the Ennead shall be spoken to with such bilious disrespect!" she roared as she began sprinting forward, smoothly dropping to all fours in her lioness form mid-stride. She covered the distance to Southern Belle with the speed of an apex predator and did not slow, barreling into the possessed police woman claws first. The goddess retained enough restraint to hold back for the sake of the innocent host but was shocked to find her attack failing to find purchase at all across impossibly tough skin. "Wretched sorcery! I shalltake satisfaction, blasphemer!"
-
In truth Ellie wasn't paying full attention to the explanation of contract litigation as she finished putting on her fresh pants, instead planting her hands on her hips and sticking her tongue into one cheek at the unimpressed sound Mara had made. Tossing the dark red ribbed tank top in her hand over one shoulder, she closed the locker and strutted over to the bench near the room's labyrinthine entrance with great deliberation. Swinging one coltish leg over the other she sat down on the engineer's lap and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, what was that?" Before Mara could make much a response an alarmed shout rang out from outside the locker room followed by a commotion of clattering metal and plastic then sprinting footfalls. "What in-- c'mon!" Hurriedly tugging her top on, the med student scrambled to her feet and headed out into the hallway. "No jewelry yet!" Trinity had a reputation for being left alone by super powered brawls and she wasn't quite ready to break that streak with an unexplained appearance by the armored heroine known as Dragonfly.
-
Sekhmet Free Action: Shift to lioness form, with Speed 3. Standard Action: Charge Southern Belle.: 1d20+9 22 That's a DC 22 Toughness Save. Move Action: Demoralize Southern Belle.: 1d20+18 26
-
"If tis any consolation, milady," Set addressed the jagged block of ice with the Aesir center, "I likely wouldn't have truly submitted to Freedom League custody either. Now, I cannot bear to have you giving me the cold shoulder!" Making a slow, swooping gesture that took one arm behind his back, the godling stirred the power of a very different sort of storm. From every crack and crevice in the wall behind him sand began to pour forth like a tide, bleached pristine by the sun of some far away place. Wind followed inexplicably, along with the blistering heat of the Sahara, the air inside the warehouse swirling and shimmering. Abruptly shoving his palm forward, he sent a howling, spiraling pillar of sand battering into the ice, the gritty particulates shredding the crystalline prison layer by layer while the scorching incandescence turned it to dribbling rivulets of water. When the furious blasting reached Thrude, however, it was no more than a warm, gentle breeze that delicately caressed her cheek, dried her hair and did away with the waterlogged stains in her attire. As the last of the ice vanished, Set snapped his fingers and the torrent stopped dead, leaving the warehouse floor looking like a beach. Grinning, he offered the warrior goddess his hand and tipped his chin toward the hole in the roof. "I believe we had a point to make about to whom the storm tis birthright?"
