Gizmo
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Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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With Heka momentarily reeling from the divine blast of lightning, Set finally had the presence of mind to scan the rest of the battlefield, his attention drawn to Errant's dogged pursuit of the absconding arsonist. "Ho, scoundrel! Fleeing from the Lady's tender ministrations tis understandable, but creasing the brow of the masked mentalist borders on boorish!" Jogging a few steps himself to keep up and get into position, the godling made a broad circular motion with both arms, twisting them through the air. In response, sand kicked up into the air from whence there had been no sand moments before, seeping out of cracks and crannies in the surrounding buildings. The sudden sandstorm whipped about Guy Fawkes, surging unnaturally in coiling strikes like a scorpions tail but for a moment it seemed as though the acrobatic villain was yet again just slightly too agile to be caught by the heroes' combined efforts. Set, however, coughed pointedly from behind a set of snapping fingers and the seeking sands instead snagged upon Fawkes' ankle, dragging him back downward to quickly be enveloped in a determined dune. "I have cut him to the quick, yes? Quicksand, that is, haha!"
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"Redbird will want to know why we had to get her outfit soaked, too," Trevor sighed, a similarly mistreated jacket hanging over one arm and jet black hair a little too long to have been properly coaxed back into a presentable state without an actual comb and mirror. His already beaten black fedora, notably, sat tipped lightly backward away from his face looking no worse for wear than it ever did. "Hnn. Smell." The young heir raised his unoccupied arm slightly to consider the dark fabric from behind oval sunglasses, the sleeve rolled up above the elbow and hanging more heavily than usual. "Potential issue. ...ah. Yes, hello."
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From overhead, Midnight watched as his teammates struck hard and fast against the fae fascists, the ledge he'd perched upon becoming a rafter and then the lip of a massive chandelier in turn. Biding his time, the detective silently drew forth his escrima sticks, the solidity of their carbon alloy fibers standing in contrast to the chaotic fluidity of the shifting castle. All at once he dove from his hiding place, saying nothing but allowing the air rushing past to rustle his jacket just enough to give the leprechaun time to look up and see the shadowy form hurtling toward him but not enough to do anything about it. The expression of shock and dread was quickly wiped away by a blow to the face as Midnight landed atop his prey, boot pressed down against the fae's chest as luminous red lenses burned with a dire warning.
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Heka Dazed! Set Move Action: Taunt vs. Guy Fawkes. (1d20+10=20) Guy Fawkes Bluff Check vs. DC 20. (1d20+13=15) Set Standard Action: Sand Snare vs. Guy Fawkes. Guy Fawkes Reflex Save vs. DC 17. (1d20+5=25) Set Luck Control: Force Re-Roll Guy Fawkes Reflex Save vs. DC 17. (1d20+5=8) 27 - Guy Fawkes - Staggered, Demoralized, Bound 27 - Errant - Bruised x1, 1HP 23 - Heka - Bruised x1, Staggered, Insubstantial 18 - Set - Bruised x1, 0HP 17 - Temperance - Bruised x1, 3HP 14 - Sekhmet - Bruised x1 11 - Diehard - Uninjured 11 - Khania - Bruised x2, Dazed, Slowed 10 - Blackfire - Unconscious, Entangled 4 - Glamazon - Bruised x1, 1HP
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Midnight was a stoic presence striding next to the ifrit, arms crossed and mist pooling about the hit feet, the black clad detective was lent the suggestion of a greater presence beyond his actual form. Behind the ruby lenses of his blank mask, however, his eyes darted back and forth, taking in every scrap of information presented to them to be turned over to expose every angle by a mind spinning like high performance machinery. Typhoon's accusers may have been certain of his guilt but Midnight wasn't one to draw conclusions until every fact was accounted. --For example,-- he mused across the telepathic link, --if the victim was killed here, al-Darsah would have been the same size, not attack from an downward angle. Stay sharp.-- He observed Al-Qaum's inky outburst with particular interest. The mortal man knew something of darkness and war himself, after all, and he doubted anyone truly content with the shadows would be quite so loud and insistent, even a god. "In shadows, as in battle, things are rarely as they appear," he spoke up, his voice by contrast the still surface of a dark, cold ocean. "Proof beyond hearsay?" His voice lacked an accusatory tone, lacked any tone at all but the way it was framed left Al-Qaum little room for dissembling.
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Midnight II Hide in Plain Sight: Stealth 30 with Skill Mastery. Midnight is already hidden in the rafters, but just so you've got something to roll against if you need it, troll. Move Action: Demoralize Leprechaun 2. Intimidate 30 with Skill Mastery. Standard Action: Charge Leprechaun 2 with Escrima Sticks; Power Attack 4, Sneak Attack 2. (1d20+12=32), or 'drop down from the ceiling' in this case. That's DC 15 + 8 + 4 Power Attack + 2 Sneak Attack + 5 Critical = 34.
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Jack of all Blades / Jill O'Cure (2) >Paying it Forward (1) >Mercury Racing (1) Midnight II None Wail (3) >Your Spirit Lives On (2) >Both Alike in Dignity (1) Ghost Girl None Set / Sekhmet (1) >Fearsome Five by Five (1) GM (5) >Fearsome Five by Five (2) >Molehills (3) Wow. I, uh, yeah. That's just about the worst month ever. Okay. Toss the Ref Point on Set and call it a day, I guess.
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"Ideally," Combs told Stesha with a set to her jaw that suggested she wasn't as optimistic about that as she might have liked. The slate hued woman seemed to have having no trouble keeping her balance as their rocky platform slid downward at a steep angle, occasionally giving Tarrant minor course corrections but largely standing back and observing her fellow geokinetic work. Wendy seemed to have similar concerns to Fleur, bending down on one knee and steadying herself with a hand on the ground, while Bombardier rode the platform with the lack of concern of a pilot well acquainted with turbulence. "Generally, Igneous prefer to keep to themselves. They don't like change much and as a rule they don't have much use for the surface or humans," Canadian Shield continued, her smooth voice as well suited to a briefing as a press conference. "For the last few years, one of the younger senators, Laccolinth, has been advocating for a more open relationship with the surface, loudly and persuasively. Importing what we'd think of as modern tech, expanding trade agreements, a seat at the UN." Combs made a fist of one hand and tapped an extended thumb against her chin in a contemplative gesture. "You can see how that would make some people either very excited or very nervous and that's not even a fraction of the stir he's been causing in Hypabylon itself. Laccolinth is very popular with the young guard, especially the commoners since surface technology would go a long way to balancing power between the earthmover bloodlines. He's ambitious and depending on who you ask more than a little ruthless. The last messages I received suggested civil war is almost inevitable at this point." Pausing to point Gaian Knight slightly to his right, she pulled a weary expression. "Imagine a pair of eight point oh earthquakes fighting it out under our collective feet."
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"Family reunions on my old man's side are a little strained," Erik supplied with a sardonic quirk of his lips, though he rolled his shoulder forcefully as he did so, working out a tenseness that hadn't been evident in his earlier movements. He gave Eve a sidelong look before losing the affectation and letting out a thin breath. "Think secret society meets mercenaries with a survival-of-the-fittest fetish. They tried to kidnap mi princesita when she was born and received the thunderous ass-whupping they had coming to them, believe me. Made it clear they're not welcome in Freedom but listening skills don't exactly get a shout out on the family crest." Reflexively looking back over the Eden's crib, the instructor brought his free hand up to hold something hanging from a cord under his shirt. "Point being, you've got powers, pedigree and pesos to... pique their interest, so consider this fair warning, yeah?"
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Guy Fawkes Will Save vs. DC 17. (1d20+6=21) Go ahead and post IC, Absurdist. 27 - Guy Fawkes - Staggered 27 - Errant - Bruised x1, 1HP 23 - Heka - Bruised x1, Staggered, Dazed, Insubstantial 18 - Set - Bruised x1, 1HP 17 - Temperance - Bruised x1, 3HP 14 - Sekhmet - Bruised x1 11 - Diehard - Uninjured 11 - Khania - Bruised x2, Dazed, Slowed 10 - Blackfire - Unconscious, Entangled 4 - Glamazon - Bruised x1, 1HP
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Wail responded to the necromantic peer review with a rumble like sustain thunder crashing mere feet away, a wave of sound that blasted into the pair of fetches and continued part them with enough force to leave a spiderweb crack on the concrete of the opposite wall of the basement even after the half-melted creatures took the brunt of its power. The closer of the two rippled like a puddle of mud as a boulder fell into it, splashing to the floor as it lost all semblance of humanity. "Wrap this up, son, I'm well out of patience."
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Wail Hero Point: Negate Fatigue Move Action: Line up shot. Standard Action: Sonic Wail vs. Fetches; All-Out Attack 5. (1d20+13=31) That's a DC 33 Toughness Save, and a Line Area, so he should be able to hit both of them now that one is on top of the other.
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The demigoddess' blow was enough to send Khania sailing backward through the air, actually passing through the incorporeal but still dazed Heka as the air over the street was suddenly crowded with disoriented villains. Down below, Guy Fawkes saw the tide of the battle slowly but surely shifting out of his allies' favour and continued to abscond as quickly as the injuries Sekhmet had inflicted upon him would allow, small flecks of cracked mask trailing behind him as he scanned the growing crowds drawn by the commotion for an opportunity to slip away.
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Guy Fawkes Move Action: Run Away! Luckily he's staggered so he's not moving too quickly but he'll still manage to slip away if nobody manages to grab him this round. Errant is up. 27 - Guy Fawkes - Staggered 27 - Errant - Bruised x1, 1HP 23 - Heka - Bruised x1, Staggered, Dazed, Insubstantial 18 - Set - Bruised x1, 1HP 17 - Temperance - Bruised x1, 3HP 14 - Sekhmet - Bruised x1 11 - Diehard - Uninjured 11 - Khania - Bruised x2, Dazed, Slowed 10 - Blackfire - Unconscious, Entangled 4 - Glamazon - Bruised x1, 1HP
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Jack of all Blades / Jill O'Cure (25) >And Then a Step to the Right (18) >Paying It Forward (4) >Mercury Racing (3) Midnight II (2) >Vengeance From the Grave (2) Wail (5) >Your Spirit Lives On (2) >Both Alike In Dignity (3) Ghost Girl None Set / Sekhmet (5) >Under Wraps (1) >Fearsome Five by Five (4) GM (6) >Fearsome Five by Five (5) >Molehills (1) Points can roll over to Set, Ref point included.
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"Somehow shoddy workmanship doesn't strike me as the worst transgression here," Wail grunted, the explanation from what was left of Darius and the appearance of the misshapen doppelgangers doing nothing to cool his bottled fury. His movements were surprisingly quick for his size but devoid of grace or fluidity, an unstoppable, undeniable juggernaut free to take the most direct path between two points. One hand clamped over the second thrall's putty like face while the other caught the ectoplasmic creature in the stomach and lifted the whole thing over his head. Moving at the waist, LaMarr hurled the mockery into the one Nick was burning, the pair smashing together against the basement floor.
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Khania Toughness Save vs. DC 22. (1d20+9=14) Go ahead and get the IC post up, HG. 27 - Guy Fawkes - Staggered 27 - Errant - Bruised x1, 1HP 23 - Heka - Bruised x1, Staggered, Dazed, Insubstantial 18 - Set - Bruised x1, 1HP 17 - Temperance - Bruised x1, 3HP 14 - Sekhmet - Bruised x1 11 - Diehard - Uninjured 11 - Khania - Bruised x2, Dazed, Slowed 10 - Blackfire - Unconscious, Entangled 4 - Glamazon - Bruised x1, 1HP
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Diehard's single-minded assault on Temperance continued unabated, with reckless punches and kicks raining down from all angles as the unhinged martial artist bounded about. Eliza kept her composure, however, and each blow was met by a sweeping cascade of water or an icy bit of armor. Meanwhile, Khania refocused on her telepathic tormentor and let lose another blast from her eye, scorching Errants shoulder with enough heat to leave a hole with blackened edges in his uniform. "Yours will be a burning, screaming death, mud ape!" she screeched, one hand still clutching the side of her head.
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It was Sekhmet's human form that rose back to her feet as she recovered from Heka's blast, a look of murderous anger creasing her flawless complexion and bringing an unnatural, fiery glow to her golden eyes. Posture hunched and ready to pounce, the goddess was about to dash back into the fray when a pained groan from the injured lab assistant in the alleyway with her turned her head. Hesitating a moment, she took a slow, steadying breath and stalked over to the civilians, crouching down in front of them with a sober look that could have stopped a barreling train on its tracks. "Know not fear, mortal, for while Sekhmet tis indeed She Who Mauls, ma'at demands that I be equally the patron of healers and physicians." Without further explanation, a disk of radiant sunlight appeared about her head, illuminating the darkened alleyway like a summer day at high noon. The goddess placed her hands upon the young man and immediately pain ebbed away and bone knitted together until it was whole again.
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Bombardier laughed loudly at Fleur's comment before slugging Frost in the shoulder, thankfully without the strength amplifying assistance of his armor. "Eh, come on, how could you doubt anything coming from this face, haw!" he pleaded comically, indicating the Russian thermovore. Catching Tarrant's eye, the armored Francophone gave a broad friendly wave. "Paul Bouchard, Bomardier," he introduced himself cheerily. "The token man of common sense and science among godless mumbo jumbo types, eh?" Making his way over close enough to offer his armored hand to Tiamat, he added in a lowered voice in Gaian Knight's direction, "Don't let Lizzie scare you off too much. Moving rocks is a bit of a pissing contest with Igneous, tsé?" Wendy Go's eyes widened briefly at the attention but she smiled gamely and shook Stesha's hands with both of her own. The florakinetic could tell that the younger woman was being painstakingly delicate with the gesture but with the proverbial ice broken her expression was sunny. "Ah, that's right! It's really great to meet you, I've heard a lot, obviously!" With a rueful bob of her head that suggested she'd been accused of gushing in the past, she nodded to each of the Americans in turn, keeping one eye on her team's leader for direction. Canadian Shield herself had set her jaw slightly as Comrade Frost addressed her, taking a brief moment to point toward her own, nickel hued eyes and then back at the parka wearing man warningly. "I know there wasn't as much lead time as anyone might have liked," she agreed with Gaian Knight. "We appreciate you coming out on short notice. A united front may make a difference here but time is a factor. I'll explain on the way." The towering woman, raised both hands in front of her and the ground around the group stirred in response. She paused, however, turning to Tarrant. "Unless you'd care to do the honors, Knight?"
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Going they were, with a trip through the verdant field of Fleur's powers seeing the quartet stepping from the trunk of a ponderosa pine onto the uneven foothills of the mountain range. They were technically on Canadian soil for the time being and though it wasn't terribly far north the elevation and time of year made things chilly enough to be uncomfortable for those Leaguers sensitive to it. Having crossed a pair of time zones, it was now early morning, with the late autumn sun only just out in earnest. "And there they are," a nearby voice announced with the resonant enunciation of a practiced public speaker colouring a honey smooth drawl. "Welcome to British Columbia." The speaker would have stood out even in less stark surroundings, a muscular woman towering at nearly seven full feet, with an ashen skin tone offset by warm copper-hued hair tied up in a business-like style. Symmetrical patterns of mineral scales dusted her high cheekbones where freckles might have been on another woman and the maple leaf motif of her white and cool green uniform left little doubt that this was Canadian Shield. As Combs strode toward them with wide steps in serious looking combat boots, a loud guffaw erupted from the armored man to her left. "Haw! They dragged you out for this, eh, Frost?" Bombardier had the helmet of his armor tucked under one arm, exposing a wide grin framed by a thick brown mustache and goatee and eyes that positively twinkled. "Guess they didn't want me being the least diplomatic one here! We'll grab a drink after, yeah?" Most of his armor had the look of brushed steel with elements picked out in a brilliant, metallic blue slightly scuffed from wear but free of pits or dents, suggesting a man who took pride in properly maintained equipment if not cosmetics. The third member of the True North contingent, standing a little further back to Canadian Shield's right, said nothing yet, evidently waiting for a polite opportunity to introduce herself. Reedy by nature but showing signs of regular training through her simple red and white jumpsuit, Wendy Go regarded the Freedom Leaguers with a mixture of curiosity and the concern a student might give material she might later be tested upon. She chewed her lower lip absently and if her teeth were a little sharp and her mouth a little wide, it was a subtle thing and certainly not outside the spectrum of normal human features. The bone white streak in her otherwise dark, chocolate brown hair was more obvious as was scent that hit Tiamat's nose like the smell of freshly killed meat leaking from a closed dumpster.
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"You think so?" Wail cut in with a rumbling drawl that contrasted sharply with the hissing cleric, having listened to as much of the hatemongering tirade as he was willing to stomach. He didn't much care if the raptor's deity was about to walk in the door and empirically announce its existence or not, he had no patience for so-called spiritual leaders shouting for bigotry and violence. "Joker, please." Inhaling through his nose, the experienced educator let out a note of abject scorn, transformed by his superdense lungs into a column of force as wide around as a dinner plate and as brutal as any haymaker that lanced through the broken window and crashed into the limping raptor in robes, sending him tumbling back across the lawn in an undignified mess of limbs.
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"We will take back what is ours, and there is nothing you can do to stop us!" See, now, that just sounds like the cue for a sonic wail to the face. Are we still trying to talk this out or can Wail register his feelings about spiritual leaders advocating institutionalized bigotry and hate?
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"Vel, meet Geckoman. His main superpowers are being green and making me look laconic," Jack introduced with a light clearing on his throat. "He's also the best pilot you've ever seen so when he says he couldn't catch these rubes he's not blowing smoke." Indicating the young woman exiting the Pitchoo, the fencer continued, "Mi hermana, Jill. Medic and all around smartypants sass machine." The younger sibling gave the speedster a brief half-wave as she hopped off of the the craft's ramp, the crimson bandana mask covering the top half of her face doing little to hide the contemplative look she was giving Velocity. "Hey. We never got a chance to meet, back then. Thanks for showing up." "And this would be Willow, my considerably better half," Jack finished, taking a step closer to the dryad. "Plant control and thunderous ass-kickery."
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Fleur de Joie Fleur, being the one who actually remembers people's names, knows who those people are! Canadian Shield is the current leader of True North and as it happens is half Igneous herself, on her mother's side. As such she's usually the point-woman on the rare instances when surface heroes have to interact with the Igneous. Reportedly she's even descended from a noble house but that may just be spin; as a government funded team True North tends to be even more concerned with PR than the Freedom League. Elizabeth 'Liz' Combs tends to be the one delivering press conferences or accepting awards and the impression Fleur's gotten is that she's charismatic and strong willed but doesn't suffer fools gladly. The fact that she's nearly 7' tall and could break most fools over her knee means they tend to stay away anyway. Bombardier is Paul Bouchard, a battlesuit pilot from Quebec and nominally the team's second in command. Bouchard didn't design his suit himself but his image is one of blue collar common sense and practical know-how. He seems to laugh loudly, swear loudly and knock heads together loudly when the situation calls for it. His track record with True North speaks to a very competent hero, regardless, and he's even lent a hand preventing aeronautic disasters in the States surrounding the Great Lakes more than once. Wendy Go is True North's newest member, touted as a 'page', a sort of in-training cadet. Stesha doesn't know her real name which is unusual but not unprecedented for the team. She's in her late teens or early twenties by appearances and talks about how great it is to be working with her heroes during press events despite seeming a little camera shy. Her power appears to be transforming into a massive, white-furred monster of immense strength - should Fleur describe this form, Frost would recognize it as a legit wendigo and probably be suitably concerned. This is the first international mission Wendy Go has been brought along on.
