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
-
"Running scared for now," Trevor told Mark, "she'll be back." Terrifying Medea into releasing her hold on Erin had been expedient, but hardly a long-term solution. Turning back to Erin, he struggled to sift through conflicting impulses. Seeing the way she pointedly avoided looking at any of them, however, abruptly made up his mind. Stepping forward before he could second guess himself, the lanky youth wrapped his arms around her shoulders, careful not to squeeze too tightly as he silently hung his dark-haired head next to her own.
-
"Medea," Trevor confirmed, helping Mark to his feet. Given the dent in the wall he'd have been considerably more concerned about the upbeat youth's skull if he hadn't been chatting away cheerfully. Trevor could only assume it was Mark's nebulous power-set at work once again, providing him with a lucky break, or lack thereof as the case may be. When Erin and James reappeared, he turned around in what was a rather abrupt movement for the usually composed teen. Concern and relief clashed with guilt and shame in his tumultuous expression. Sparing one last look to make sure that Mark wasn't going to collapse again, he walked hesitantly across the room to stand next to her, unsure what to say.
-
"Let 'er ri~i~i~i~ahaha!" Jack shouted as Wander hurled him from the rooftop mid-sentence. Greatcoat tucked behind him, the fencer soared through the air, rapier extended rigidly before him, eyes watering behind his bandanna mask from the speed. The teenager's aim proved to be unerring, and the sword connected solidly with the closest bee, leaving Jack to reflexively twist his body as he strained to keep his grip on the exposed hilt of the semi-solid electricity. "Bet this is the first time a bug got a person stuck in it's grill, amirite?" he shouted at the skewered colossus as he twisted blade deeper.
-
Jack totally wanted to wound the bee at the juncture! Reflex Save vs. DC 29. (1d20+15=35) He avoids getting squished against the bee, anyway. Jack of all Blades Move Action: Taunt, DC 28 with Skill Mastery. Standard Action: Energy Blade Power Attack 5. (1d20+13=30) That's DC 21 for the Drain Toughness and DC 28 for the actual Toughness save.
-
As soon as the villainess was gone, Midnight was appearing back in the room he'd just left, the displaced air he'd teleported with him blasting the remains of the cloud he'd left behind away like a boulder dropped in a pond. "Medea's dealt with," he informed Hellion brusquely, tossing his ushanka to the floor and hurriedly unfastening his mask, which fell open to hang about his neck. "Where is she?" he demanded, coming as close as James had ever heard to raising his voice, as he scanned the newly cleared room for Erin.
-
Midnight II Move Action: Teleport back. Free Action: Configure Gadgets: Air Control 10 (Flaw: Range [Ranged]) [10PP] Standard Action: Counter Midnight Mist with Air Control. (1d20+10=20)
-
Jackie B: Initiative. (1d20+9=13) Jacked Up Bees: Initiative. (1d20=2)
-
"Throw...?" Jack raised an eyebrow in surprise at the teen's nonchalant offer. Before dismissing it out of hand, however, he glanced over at the massive bees, which grew steadily closer. "Tell you what, kid," the swordsman drawled, a fierce, predatory grin spreading across his face, "I got two words for you." Cracking his knuckles, Jack extended a hand to an antenna on the rooftop, which abruptly surged with electricity which leapt to his palm, solidifying into a cascading blade of raw energy. "Dartboard Special."
-
Jack pulled up short from his rolling sprint as he spotted Wander on the rooftop ahead of him. "Hey, Slugger! Nice. Was just thinking this was a 'super-strength' kinda job." The athletic young man, rubbed the back of his head as he looked over at the massive, advancing insects. "Nertz, I hate fighting fliers," he muttered before turning back to teenager. Opening and closing his mouth once as he reconsidered his next words, Jack sighed. "Look, chica, I know we kinda got off on the wrong foot that one time. It's been brought to my attention that I can come off as insensitive or whatever so, y'know, sorry about that." The swordsman seemed genuine enough, albeit unpracticed with apologies. Living with the rest of Interceptors had had a noticeable effect on his manner; not everyone, he'd come to accept, was comfortable with the way he typically expressed himself. Hopefully he could muddle through how to handle the high schooler without setting her off the way Dead Head had. "You Claremont types hold your own pretty good, though, so hows about lending a blunt instrument, huh?"
-
Somersaulting through the air several storeys from the ground, Jack landed nimbly atop a flagpole and cocked his head to one side. There was a distinct thrum all around him, and it seemed to be getting steadily louder. The hum could have been the sound of rapid wingbeats, but there was a higher pitched element to it as well. Trying to discern where the noise was coming from, the swashbuckler grappled up and over the room of the building next to him, coming down in a crouch on the rooftop a moment later. Standing, he blinked is surprise. Rising up from behind the towering condominiums were a trio of bees, each easily the size of a tanker truck. Massive wings, vibrating so quickly they were nearly invisible, carried the behemoths through the skies and toward the park, while bystanders on the street below began to look up and scream. "...huh," Jack commented to himself before sprinting forward and readying his line once more.
-
Giant bees are bad. Giant bees that breathe fire? That'd be worse. Wander and Jack of all Blades explore their mutual knack for excessive violence.
-
The swashbuckling hero known as Jack of all Blades rarely patrolled too far outside of the West End, but with the slow expansion of what he viewed as his personal protectorate, he found himself swinging through the more developed parts of Freedom City with increasing regularity. The brilliant blue summer skies had drawn him toward Liberty Park and its surrounding condominiums. Flipping through the air as he released his grapple line from one building and launched it immediately to the next, his acrobatics took him over the heads of the citizens below, royal blue greatcoat flapping behind him, and a fierce grin of sheer athletic joy fastened to his face.
-
Accepting the mirror, Trevor took a long look into its reflective surface. His expression was carefully schooled to betray no hint of reaction as he slowly ran the fingers of his free hand over the cheek bone below on eye. The sclera of both was totally black, a gleaming darkness which exaggerated the brightness of the now brilliantly red irises. Calmly taking off his fedora and setting it on the armrest of Eve's chair, he took another look into the mirror to confirm what he'd just seen before handing it back to Mark without comment. The only sign of agitation was the increasing thick wisps of inky mist rising up from the back of his neck. "Excuse me," he said finally, walking swiftly to the common room door as mist began to pour form his sleeves as well. By the time he's crossed half of the distance, most of the dark haired youth was concealed by the cloud. Trevor stopped in his tracks abruptly, and was absolutely still for a few long moments while the mist dissipated into the air. "I can see through the mist without my goggles," he informed his classmates tonelessly, still facing away from them.
-
Trevor's expression fell a fraction of a notch at Erin's reaction, confusion flickering across his face, as he took a reflexive step back in response to her retreat. Eyes...? The lean young man's dorm room had come with a small wall mounted mirror, but one of the first things he'd done while unpacking was to take it down in favour of a large whiteboard. "How... how so?" he asked hesitantly, a subtle note of strain in his soft voice.
-
Trevor was distracted from Mark's disturbingly cavalier use of his immense power by Erin's sudden proximity to his face. "Not that I can think of," he replied as she slipped his sunglasses down his nose. Pale eyelids blinked in bemusement over glossy black orbs divided by luminous rings of crimson. Despite their inhuman colouration, from her vantage point Erin could recognize a familiar mix of careful observation and curiosity in the eyes, which looked into her own questioningly.
-
At Erin's scream, Midnight's teeth ground against each other as his goggles began to fill with acrid smoke from tear ducts which had long since ceased to function as such. Brutally quashing the voice which tore at his rigid analysis of the situation, demanding that he go to her, the black clad youth swiftly pulled a pair of items from his belt. The first was a passive sensor which monitored a variety of frequencies, from the mundane to the arcane and esoteric, while the second was something he'd pieced together after repeated jaunts using his peer's beacons. Medea might have fled when the midnight mist filled the room, but the fragments of Trevor's psyche agreed that there was nowhere she could go where she would be safe from him. Sliding the modular components together, he thumbed the activator and abruptly disappeared. He burst into the sorceress's hiding place in a violent burst of roiling gas, expanding outward too quickly for Medea to avoid. "You are old, witch," a cold, grating voice slid through the obscuring darkness like a dagger, "Have seen much." There was a brief pause and suddenly the voice was coming from right behind her, just soft enough that she had to strain ever so slightly to make out the words. "Darkness is eternal. Darkness sees everything." There was a soft breeze of movement as the mist shifted before the voice came again from somewhere indiscernible, its tone carrying the undeniable certainty of the grave. "Release the girl. Now."
-
Trevor murmured in brief agreement to Mark's suggestion, realizing that he'd left the coffee maker its automatically brewed pot connected to the alarm clock he'd swatted untouched. Coffee honestly hadn't occurred to him that morning, which in and of itself raised a few red flags in the recesses of the distracted teen's mind. "I'm fine," he assured Erin nevertheless, with a weak smile. "Not even that tired, just bit of a headache behind my eyes. Stress, I guess."
-
Midnight II Free Action: Moar midnight mist. Free Action: Gadgets! Super-Senses 1 (Trace Teleport) [1PP] Teleport 3 (Extra: Accurate) [9PP] Move Action: 20 Notice w/ Skill Mastery to Trace, Teleport after Medea. Free Action: Moar moar midnight mist. Extra Effort: Surge Full Round Action: Intimidate Medea, DC 30 w/ Skill Mastery. He also has Second Chance on Intimidate, for the sake of argument, not sure how that interacts with Skill Mastery exactly.
-
Trevor gave the two girls a questioning look, silently mouthing the word 'taffy'. "Not late," he assured Erin aloud. "Two, three o'clock. ...four, maybe." After a beat, he asked, somewhat sheepishly, "...what time is it now?" Glancing out the window, a faint wince flickered across his face. He wasn't sure what Erin had been talking about; the scene outside was uncomfortably bright. Then again, the lights in the common room were nearly as bad, so it might have just been him. Should have adjusted by now, he thought to himself.
-
Trevor responded to Mark's arrival with a exhalation that wasn't quite heavy enough to be a sigh. "Mark," he said in simple greeting, his tone soft but amiable enough. Pushing aside the nagging suspicion that the universe was conspiring to give him a splitting migraine, he answered his gregarious classmate's question by adjusting his fedora slightly and replying, "...no." A considerable amount of the tension in the young man's shoulders melted away upon seeing Erin in the common room. "Really?" he asked absently, brow furrowing subtly behind his oval sunglasses. "Seemed sunny out."
-
Trevor has freaky eyes! Srsly. Open to Claremont students.
-
Trevor Hunter brought his hand down hard on the shrill alarm clock next to his bed with an annoyed grunt, and let his eyes drift open slightly. Immediately regretting it, he threw the outstretched arm over his face, brushing through the small cloud of midnight mist he'd instinctively released to block out the offending rays shining through the window of his dormitory room. Casting about with his free hand, he located the pair of sunglasses he'd recently taken to wearing and stiffly donned them, rolling cramped shoulder blades with a mild grimace. The young man realized that he was still wearing the pants from the day before, having barely managed to toss his shirt into the growing heap of laundry in the corner of the room before collapsing into bed. Grudgingly, he admitted that he was probably pushing himself too hard; even given his trained stamina and copious amounts of caffeine, he couldn't keep up his current sleep schedule, or lack thereof, without increasing consequences. Hauling himself to his feet, Trevor reached into the open closet to grab a dark blue dress shirt from a hanger, squinting as he threw it on and waited for his eyes to adjust to the daylight. His time at Claremont had added a significant amount of lithe muscle to his wiry frame; though he was still notably lanky, the youth was slowly filling out to match his substantial height. Suppressing a curse as he accidentally stepped on a loose piece of machinery that had strayed from his workbench, Trevor continued to get dressed. Opting the run a hand once through his hair before covering it with his beaten fedora rather than a shower under harsh fluorescent lights, the teen stepped out into the hallway, making his way towards the common room and rubbing his eyes distractedly as he went. Hopefully a brief walk would alleviate some the pains left from an awkward night's sleep.
-
[Interceptors] Zombie Powder is a Helluva Drug [IC]
Gizmo replied to Dr Archeville's topic in West End
"Dammit," Jack grimaced, regarding the apartment complex. This wasn't an out of the way warehouse or repurposed garage, this was where families ate and slept. It was possible the gang was simply using that as a convenient cover for their safehouse, but the fencer thought it far more likely that this was simply the home of some neighbourhood kids who'd never been given a good enough reason to avoid getting mixed up with the gangs. Jack didn't like the idea of bringing a fight to anyone's doorstep, let alone misguided teens. "We do this quick and quiet, guys," he told the others. "If the rot-heads aren't here, no reason for anyone to know we were either, right?" -
"Uh..." Jack released Eli's throat and jerked his hand back uncertainly. "Sorry, Zip. I think, anyway," he added dryly, a broad smirk spreading across his face as he rose stiffly to his feet. "Warhg. Told you we needed a day for healing," the fencer observed with a nod toward Colt before cracking his neck noisily left then right. Good first session. Gotta feel for where everybody sits. Nice work."