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
-
"Sounds like a plan, Wings," Jack called to the airborne angel, leaping forward from pew to pew. Throwing his hand backward, he cast out for the nearest source of energy he could use to fuel his powers. "Lemme just- woah!" A flicker of the white flame from Hayzel's blazing spatha shot down the swashbuckler like a spear of light, erupting into a rapier adorned with delicate filigree the moment it make contact. To Jack's metamagi senses, the blade was forged of resounding church bells and far off Gregorian chant, a feeling of warmth and well being extending up his arm and into his chest. "Oh, ho. Wow," he grinned fiercely as he continued forward, bringing his new sword down across the shambling horror's shoulder in a flurry of shining blows.
-
Jack of all Blades Free Action: Borrow from Hayzel's spatha to form an Energy Sword with holy/blessed descriptors. Move Action: DC 33 Taunt with Skill Mastery against Deathstar. Standard Action: Energy Sword Flurry Power Attack 5. (1d20+14=26) Against 22 Defense, that's DC 15 + 9 + 5 Power Attack + 4 Autofire = 33. The Taunt will probably confer a -2 penalty on that, as well.
-
I'm cashing in on Erik's Responsibility and Secret complications, for having his mother present and being out of costume, and spending one of the HP to stunt Quick Change. Ellie already has that Feat, clever girl. I'm assuming Hayzel's Responsibility to the church itself and the undead Enemy net him a pair of HP as well. Jack of all Blades: Initiative. (1d20+9=23) Jill O'Cure: Initiative. (1d20+4=11) So: 23 - Jack of all Blades - Uninjured - 6HP 20 - Freedom Angel - Uninjured - 6HP 16 - Deathstar - Uninjured 11 - Jill O'Cure - Uninjured
-
Sitting next to Erin, Trevor looked vaguely stricken. "...never going to be able to look Mike in the eye again," he lamented. He hadn't really made a point of attending any school games in their own universe, so he wasn't entirely sure how Clairemont's cheer team matched up to their own, but impressive athleticism aside, the entire exercise made him a little uncomfortable. Eventually he looked away and indicated the jacket Erin was wearing. "PDA in the inside left pocket has a copy of the book on it." He'd already completed most of the reading for the coming semester, and had nearly forgotten about the collection of digital versions he stored there.
-
Tricia made a small smile as Aaron turned away to walk back outside that was, by her standards, practically beaming, before adjusting her cap unconsciously and following him outside. For his part, Trevor gave Erin a simple nod of acquiescence, accepting a condiment free hotdog from his counterpart on her way out. The Hunters typically stuck to healthier fare as part of their regimented training and apart from coffee took a the stance that food was fuel regardless of taste. Even so, the dark haired young man found he was sufficiently hungry to make the snack a welcome respite, chewing thoughtfully as they joined the rest of the group at the storefront.
-
"Got it," Tricia confirmed lightly, quickly moving to handle things so as to make it a non-issue. Although Claremont had more than a few students from affluent backgrounds, some even more so than the Hunter family, just as many of her classmates were there on scholarships or other special circumstances. While she tended to downplay her wealth, Tricia did wish her friends weren't quite so reluctant to let her take care of incidental costs. "Jacket's a good look," Trevor opined with a faint smile, dropping his hand from her shoulder to her waist. Hanging back near the refrigerated units full of beverages, he lowered his voice. "Just so I know," the dark haired young man asked calmly, "are we pretending that fight never happened, or are we talking about it later?" Walking back from the counter, Tricia handed out food, presenting Aaron with a hotdog identical to the one Erin had ordered. "After that workout," she told her, forestalling his objections, "you could use the empty calories. Take it." She'd put her sunglasses back on to go out in public and there was a note of nervousness in her expression, but the set of her slim shoulders made it clear she wasn't going to take no for an answer.
-
While Trevor coughed lightly to suppress a chuckle, Tricia rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Marcie, we've talked about this..." she said reproachfully. "You have to ask before you do that." For a brief period the helpful cheerleader had hypothesized that the willowy girl's reserved attitude was due to her notably dark wardrobe; Tricia still had a pile of 'improved' clothes sitting in the back of her dresser. "Could eat," Trevor agreed, the corner of his mouth twitching subtly. He had a feeling a cheer routine performed by distaff counterparts was going to be a little awkward, but all things considered it probably made sense to stick relatively close by the reality manipulator when stranded on a parallel Earth.
-
"Like she wouldn't anyway?" Tricia pointed out, tugging absently on her cap before succumbing to vague embarrassment and pulling the brim down in front of her eyes as she turned away from Aaron's ruined uniform, clearing her throat lightly. "Beats simulated sparring, though, right?" Trevor left his hand on Erin's shoulder, allowing her to put as much weight on him as she liked without assuming that she needed to. Given the speed of her regenerative healing, the lanky youth was considerably more concerned by how the fierce heroine was going to react to the outcome of the match. For the time being, he remained silent, simply offering his presence.
-
"More like settling their similarities," Trevor murmured apprehensively, distracted from his card playing as he continued to glance over at the melee. On some level he knew this was something Erin needed to do, but it was still difficult to sit by and watch. When the fight was finally over, he tossed his card down and sauntered over to where the Whites were lying, calmly waiting a few paces away while they caught their breath. Finally closing the distance and bending over, the dark haired youth, helped Erin to her feet with one hand while slipping his unbuckled jacket over her shoulders with the other. He offered her a small smile, tilting his head in a subtle gesture which asked if she was alright. Nearby, Tricia stood, arms folded across her chest. Giving the visitors from Earth-Y a thoughtful look, she turned her attention to Aaron but made no move to take off her own jacket. "I'm good with the ripped costume," she declared nonchalantly.
-
Trevor let out a long breath, and placed his hands on his head. Clearly Erin and Aaron weren't going to be dissuaded, and by all appearances they weren't going to do any lasting harm to each other either. "Well, this might take a little while," he predicted in resignation. Beside him, Tricia reached into a pocket of her jacket and produced a small rectangular box. "Cards?" "That'll work," her counterpart agreed before turning to call over the Lucases. "Mark, Marcie, you two know euchre, right?"
-
Trevor paused for a moment before replying with a noncommittal, "...good sunglasses." Adjusting them reflexively, he turned to examine the rest of the lab. "Impressive set-up," he observed, a note of genuine praise in his otherwise unreadable deadpan. "Knew Chris had a support system; this is far beyond expected." The dark haired youth gave his classmate an deferential nod. Proud as he was of the Midnight Manor, it certainly hadn't been set up as quickly as Geckoman's secret headquarters must have been.
-
The White's furious movement blew the last vestiges of the midnight mist cloud away, leaving Trevor to unfasten his mask and plant a hand over his face. "...why?" he asked with a sigh, giving Tricia a look with was only saved from being plaintive by his naturally impassive features. Removing her own mask, she winced, obsidian and sanguine eyes darting back and forth to watch the fighting. "Should we... just let them work it out of their system?" she asked hesitantly. Trying to get between Aaron and Erin in full on battle mode wasn't a particularly attractive course of action. Trevor moved the hand upward to run through his hair. "Normally I'd say Erin could take care of herself, but right now I'm more worried about her taking care of herself. Hrrn..."
-
"Efficient," Trevor agreed as Liz laid out the design for the Pitchoo's fuel intake system. He considered the welding torch for a moment. With the sunglasses shielding his eyes from the sparks, his mutated orbs would easily compensate for the brightness of the flame itself. It would also avoid revealing them to the scientific young woman, which was probably a wise course of action. "Should be fine." With easy precision, he followed her instructions, welding the engine in place.
-
"Probably should have seen that coming," Tricia sighed softly as Trevor used the momentum of her fall to swing her boot first into a drooling canine face, cast in red relief to their shared vision. Her visiting doppelganger murmured in agreement as he released he waist and she set down in a light crouch. Although incorporating dance moves into their strategy had been largely tongue in cheek, it did have the added benefit of providing the masked teens with a shorthand for keeping out of each others' way. "Change in tactics?" Tricia nodded. "Clearly." While Trevor tossed out a handful of small impact explosives to clear them some space in the melee, she vaulted over to slide her staff between the Whites, purposefully making enough noise for the keen eared fighters to hear her coming. "Save the indiscriminate whacking for the giant monsters, hmm?" "Tactful," Trevor drawled, jogging over, escrima sticks in hand. His distaff counterpart's light shrug was clear. I'm not dating them. She looked back over to the irritated survivalists. "Ms. White, if you'd join me on the left flank, we'll show the boys how it's done." "Leaving the right for us," Trevor greeted Aaron, twirling his twin weapons deftly. "Should be finished twice as quickly."
-
Trevor and Tricia produced and donned their featureless black masks as one, the former calmly buckling the straps of his jacket while the latter extended her bo staff back to full length with a sharp click. Holding it in one hand, she gestured forward with the other, the filter in her mask giving her voice a thin, ghostly quality as she offered, "Gentlemen first." Her masculine counterpart snorted harshly as the pair sprinted forward. As they closed with the advancing hordes of mythological beasts, Trevor reached over to clasp Tricia's arms about the wrists, using himself as a fulcrum to swing her around and up into the air in an incongruously graceful movement. From above and below, the legacy heroes unleashed a torrent of stygian mist which rushed across the battlefield, enveloping all in its inky embrace.
-
Trevor looked between the Lucases appraisingly. "Or Marcie pulling a, ah, 'Angelo'?" he suggested, resisting the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "Wouldn't worry; be hard for them to mistake each other's intentions." As truly unsettling as he found their behaviour, the laconic youth had to admit that the only person who even had a shot at understanding Mark was another Mark. The probability controller had been a bit off ever since his father's breakdown, and there hadn't been much any of his friends could say to help him through the ordeal. Assuming the same held true for Marcie, there was a certain elegance to this solution. His own distaff counterpart evidently felt the same way, as Tricia sighed and stepped lightly over to her gregarious friend, stooping slightly to hesitantly pat Marcie on the head in a gesture which was affectionate if awkward. "Appreciate the sentiment, Marcie," she said with a faint smile. "Olympian Invasion it is."
-
Tricia breathed a small sigh a relief when Aaron didn't react too strongly to her unobscured eyes just in time to give Marcie a flat look at the cheerleader's outburst. "...your face," she grumbled quietly, crossing her arms and looking away in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment, cheeks colouring with her distinctive black blush. "It's alright," Trevor assured the Earth-Y students as he removed his own sunglasses and indicated his own discoloured orbs. "Secondary mutation; woke up that way about a month ago." Tricia nodded, blowing the insistent lock of hair away from her forehead again. "See infrared spectrum now, without light. Useful." She directed the last bit a little more toward the pragmatic survivalist with the tonfas than she meant to. "We are ten thousand ninjas," Trevor confirmed is a toneless deadpan, serenely sipping from his mug.
-
"Well," Erik deadpanned as he hastily leapt from his seat and maneuvered his mother's chair away from the shambling beast, "we probably should have seen that coming." Gina swatted at his hands as Ellie ran up beside them, turning herself around with practiced deftness. "I can take care of myself, get to work, both of you!" she chastised. "And don't you dare let this freak make you look bad!" "Best madre ever," Ellie declared with a broad smirk, kissing Gina quickly on the forehead then dragging her brother behind an outcropping in the church's architecture before he could begin to argue. Moments later, as Hayzel finished delivering his righteous ultimatum, a pair of matching figures in royal blue and crimson leapt forth, the grinning swashbuckler perching nimbly atop a pew while the coltish young woman hung back, hands glowing with energy as pale blue force fields appeared between the horror and the churchgoers. "You heard Tall, Light and Wrathful! I'm Jack, this is my sister Jill, and buddy, your name is mud."
-
The Espadas family thanked Hayzel before moving off to the end of a pew toward the back of the church which Gina could pull her chair up next to. "Kinda gimmicky, isn't it?" Ellie whispered, arching an eyebrow and stealing a quick glance back at Hayzel. "Actually, I met that guy once," Erik admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugging. "He's, well, I mean... the wings work, anyway, and he does this, like, celestial choir thing that's just... I dunno, he's more or less on the up and up." His younger sister gave him a sidelong look, trying to figure out if he was pulling her leg or not. "...bull." From next to her, Gina gave Ellie a light swat on the back of her head, reminding her, "Language." Erik spread his hands. "Hey, I got killed by real demons once, so it's not like --" "You what?!" Gina interjected sharply while Ellie covered her eyes with a gloved hand in exasperation. "I, uh, I got better," the elder sibling explained weakly as a few of the other people in the church looked over at their whispered conversation.
-
Let us consider the teachings of Saint Jack the Stabpuncher, Patron of Your Ass Being Grass, who did say, "Hey there, pretty lady, how you doin'?"
-
Erik Espadas tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his dress shirt as his sister helped their mother wheel herself off of the bus and onto the sidewalk. "Is this really necessary?" he grumbled as the trio started off toward St. Stephens. "What, running around in tights makes you too good to go to church with your mother?" Gina Espadas countered from her wheelchair. A dark haired woman in her mid forties, she's made a point of maintaining her athletic build regardless of early retirement. Though her features weren't quite so angular as those of her two children, it was clear where they had inherited their mannerisms. Her son winced. "Jeez, Mamá, trying to keep somebody out of the loop on that, y'know?" The young swordsman was still adjusting to the new situation with his family and secret identity as Jack of all Blades. "Nobody's around to hear," Ellie countered, stifling a yawn and absently smoothing a crease in her black pants. "Everyone else is asleep at this hour." With her hair cut shorter and dyed dark, the resemblance to her mother was considerably more pronounced. "You'll live, dear," Gina opined wryly, easily rolling herself up the church's ramp. "Late nights," Erik stated, holding the broad door open for the ladies. "One more reason to rethink this 'sidekick' thing, hermanita." Ellie responded with a snort as the family entered the building. "That's 'partner', hotshot."
-
"I've got it," Tricia assure Mark, dislodging his mug from its inset cradle and handing it to him, deftly compensating for the tray's redistributed weight. Well, he's not freaking out over my eyes, anyway. Of course, he's probably used to Trevor's and, well, he's a Lucas, so. Blowing away a stray lock of hair slipping out from under her cap, the slim youth continued on her way toward the Doom Room. She consciously straightened to her full height and squared her shoulders as she and the Lucases finally arrived to find the rest of the group comparing stick fighting notes, with Trevor looking subtly pleased for some reason. Her counterpart helped hand out the beverages before taking a long, appreciative pull on his own. "Mm, Mexican shade-grown, good choice." He noticed with an arched eyebrow that Tricia has forgone her sunglasses. It was vaguely comforting to see the now familiar red and black eyes on someone else, too.
-
"Probably not applying the same level of force," Trevor observed wryly, "so durability isn't quite the issue. Never took to the staff; guess Tricia did." With one hand holding Erin's, he thumbed the brim of his fedora unconsciously with the other. "You've seen her fight; honoring the Hunter name?" The question was a bit dishonest. Trevor had recognized enough of the practiced ease of movement in Tricia's manner to be confident that she was his equal in combat as well, but knowing the way Erin fretted over his own all-too-human frailty, he was interested to hear Aaron's assessment. Back in her room, Tricia slid six tall mugs into a convenient carrying tray of her own design, making the assumption that Mark, like Marcie, would drink just about anything with enough sugar in it. On her way to the door, she caught sight of herself reflected in a sheet of metal resting against the wall. Pausing for a moment, her expression set in determination as she removed her sunglasses once again and tucked them away before heading back out into the hallway.
-
Tricia quickly and silently made her way from the diminishing group back to her dorm room, nimbly picking across the floor strewn with partially disassembled machinery and tools to one of the intact coffee makers. Opening up her minifridge, the slim young woman removed her sunglasses as sanguine irises set in glossy black orbs darted between sealed containers of freshly ground beans, debating the merits of the various blends. With a sigh, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Not going to care, doesn't even like coffee. Stupid. Grabbing one of the containers, she set the machine brewing while she gathered the cream and sugar, shoulders slumping slightly as she replaced her sunglasses. Meeting another me would be more fun if he wasn't better at it than me. On the way to the Doom Room, Trevor observed Aaron as the the muscular youth walked a few paces ahead of them. He recognized a lot of Erin in her distaff counterpart, but this version seemed so much more terse, almost angry. Maybe what Erin was like when she first came to Earth-Prime, he considered. He didn't envy Tricia the uphill battle evidently in front of her. He felt a faint stab of something akin of sibling protectiveness at the thought. Well, that's different. An only child, he wasn't entirely comfortable with the sensation, but after his earlier accidental sabotage, he felt obligated to help somehow. "So, Aaron," he began, "you use tonfas? I'm partial to escrima."
-
Trevor picked up on Erin's discomfort immediately but hesitated. He'd already accidentally made things extremely awkward for his counterpart on this world, something she was going to have to deal with even after they returned home. A public display of affection in front of Aaron was hardly going to alleviate that tension, to say nothing of the difficulty he generally had gauging what Erin's reaction would be to any such gesture. Before he could agonize over it, however, Tricia stepped over and smacked him lightly on the back of the head, forcing him to hastily secure his fedora with one hand as he turned to give her a surprised look of inquiry. The willowy girl gave him a wry shrug and faint smile. "Seemed like what Everett would have done if he were here. And taller," she explained softly, nodding her chin toward Erin. The corner of his mouth turning wryly upward, Trevor took a step closer to his version of the dimensional refugee and reached out to take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Tricia, meanwhile, cleared her throat. "I'll grab the coffee, meet everyone at the Doom Room?" she suggested, glancing between the Whites. "Probably know how Trevor takes it. Erm, Aaron...es?"
