Gizmo

"Wow wow wow!" Ellie leaned over the table, halfway standing out of her chair to get a better look at the photo on Ashley's phone. "I love the shoulders on that. And that's such a sweet tradition." Thinking on the 'traditional' along with the reminder of the other woman's fairly conservative politics gave her a moment's pause. She leaned back in her chair and took a moment to choose her words. "This is always the thing with weddings in the community but does your family know that your ladyfriend is from 'out of town'?" Ellie chewed on the corner of her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose in a muted wince as she added the potentially more delicate question, "And, y'know, a lady?"

Chitin Standard Action: Activate CMYK Driver Move Action: Activate Bush Cricket Instar Extra Effort: Surge Standard Action: Charge Canister: 1d20+11+2 = 23 Canister Toughness Save vs DC 20: 1d20+10 = 19 Move Action: Demoralize Chitin; -5 Challenge (Fast): 1d20+10-5 = 16 Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs Chitin: 1d20+12 = 28 Chitin Sense Motive Check vs DC 16: 1d20+13 = 19 Toughness Save vs DC 23: 1d20+5 = 8 Toughness Save vs DC 23; HP Reroll: 1d20+5 = 14 + 10 = 24 24 - Chitin - Uninjured, -2 Defense, Extra Effort, 2HP 21 - Canister - Bruised x1 19 - Nocturne - Uninjured, 3HP

Ellie rolled her eyes at 'government drone'. "I've worked too may ER shifts to think cops with guns sounds like a good idea and I've never had to wonder how one of the bees' body cam footage mysteriously went missing. And look, this is obviously a downer but people already vote to put kids in cages; would it be inappropriate if, whoever, say Gabriel said that was a crappy policy?" She leaned back in her chair, not looking terribly pleased to be committing the the more serious topic but also unwilling to brush it aside for the sake of social niceties. "The main issues with policing come from them prioritizing property, wealth, maintaining established power structures because they're part of those structures. The system is actively hostile to cops who actually want to "work for us" and being a fewer steps away from lobbyists and @#$%s jockeying for re-election doesn't seem like it would make the Patriot more effective, does it?" The brunette raised her empty hand in a vague gesture and looked into her teacup. "Look, obviously I'm coming from some bias here since I've met most of the current League but the geology nerd has gone of bat for "us" time and again. On the other hand, last time a Patriot was on a League there stopped being a League. Which, with the benefit of hindsight, I think we can confidently label 'not great'? I didn't miss any campaigns on social to make McCarthyism cool again? I never check mine, the algorithm is still showing me nothing but wedding stuff, it's unusable."

Ellie looked up to listen to the televised interview as the proprietor drew attention to it and was polite enough to wait until he'd delivered their tea and stepped away before pulling a face. "Can't say the lady's not trying, at least. Wouldn't see me taking that job. Sucks they trot the kid out there too, though." She looked across the table to Ashley and gave a gesture of embarrassed apology. "Sorry! Not what we were talking about. It just gets me, like, meta-humans can't have a political opinion? Should we not vote, either? The government's going to make laws about people with powers, about our bodies but watch out, it'd be inappropriate if we had opinions about it?" The subject had obviously hit a bit of a sore spot and the young doctor looked over her shoulder briefly to make sure she wasn't disturbing anyone else in the little restaurant. Lowering her voice just in case she extended a hand toward Ashley. "Like, we both come from cops, yeah? Can't be a cop if you've got powers. But how is the Patriot not a cop? So what even are the rules?" She made an irritated gesture before picking up her teacup. "Don't get me wrong, I'd rather it was her doing it than some bro from your hot wings place; everything I hear is she's good people. You can just tell there's ten speech writers off camera vetting this stuff. They know exactly what they're doing getting the Soqotri kid up there going, 'meta-humans in government is bad, actually,' like that's the squeaky wheel in this country." She hunched her shoulders and covered most of her face with her cup. "Ugh, Mara, baby, help change the subject again or I'll keep being totally unbearable. Sorry, Ash."

Chitin Initiative: 1d20+10 24 Canister Initiative: 1d20+10 21

Canister punctuated the statement by snapping the aerosol can in their hand to the left, right arm crossing their body while their left grabbed a lever on their belt and pulled it to a locked position on the opposite side of the chunky central piece. "Chitin Runner Canister, online!" A gravelly, distorted voice replied from the belt, "RGB! Leave a mark!" Their index finger plunged down on the head of the paint can, spraying in a wide arc in the space between them and the others present. Rather than a hiss of compressed pigment the sound was like a shotgun blast as thousands of droplets each punched a pinprick hole into a pocket dimension, bright white light and displaced air bursting forth, creating a streak of distorted space that hung in the air. Slamming the can into the space on the belt opened by moving the lever, Canister charged through the violent tear. "Danger! Flammable!" They emerged on the other side armoured in black and slate grey plates, burnished bolts spinning to lock pieces into place and steel studs on the knees and reinforced toes reflecting the last of the quickly fading light behind them. Their scuffed and stained red jacket echoed the X-shaped visor that dominated their helmet, pulsing with a muted crimson. They channeled their momentum into a high kick aimed at Ryder's chest. The startled teen had just enough time cross his arms in a hasty block before being sent flying backward into the chair Natalia had been using. Not missing a beat, Canister pointed a hand toward Koshchei's scientific equipment and let loose a torrent of scorching flame in an unavoidable arc!

"Honestly Dr. Koshchei, bit of a fan but you've pretty much made all your meaningful contributions to history so..." Canister shrugged, face schooled into a flat expression that was hard to read. "Omelettes, eggs. You get it." Despite the relaxed banter they noticeably didn't come any further into the room, staying where they could keep all of the room's occupants in their sight lines "Wow. Okay, ethically a hot mess and also weirdly, needlessly rude?" Ryder took a show, careful step forward, one hand still raised toward the intruder. "There's gotta be a smarter way to deal with your whole deal than trying to start a fight so you don't feel as bad about the whole premeditated murder thing. Literally just talk to me, okay?" One of Canister's eyes twitched as their neutral look broke into an irritated scowl. "Wild. I just assumed the sanitized, sexless, loves-children-and-animals, theme park mascot version of you from the corpo history minute vids was propaganda but you're actually an oblivious caricature of a person, aren't you? I've had to @#$% around in your time period for longer than I wanted and it's not just an old-timey thing, it's just you, you actual clown!" Ryder puffed up his cheek and let out a loud breath. "Woof. I mean, most people like children and animals, that's sort of the default? And I'm still feeling out labels on the ace spectrum, but 'sexless' is factually--" Abruptly remembering who was in the room he stopped short. "We don't really need to have that conversation right now." "What d'you know. Consensus."

Jill O'Cure Americhristmas - 3 Chitin Past & Future Tense - 1 GM Past & Future Tense - 1 Rollover and Ref Point can go to Chitin!

Ari Rainshadow - 1 Guide Point = 1PP Dr Archeville Artificier - 0 posts + 1 Ref Point = 1PP Horrowshow - 1 post = 1PP EternalPhoenix Effigy - 1 Ref Point = 1PP Fox Eclipse - 1 post = 1PP Grim - 1 post = 1PP Nocturne - 1 post + 1 Ref Point = 2PP KnightDisciple Patrioteen - 1 Guide Point = 1PP MikeFCPBP Patriot - 1 Ref Point = 1PP MoonSimply La Puma - 6 posts = 1PP Nerdzul Nightscale - 6 posts = 1PP Spacefurry Chimera - 1 post = 1PP Paper - 8 + 1*2 GM = 10 posts = 2PP TheAbsurdist Jotunn - 1 Ref Point = 1PP Thevshi Multigirl - 3 posts + 1 Ref Point = 2PP Tiffany Korta Starshine - 1 post = 1PP Zhenshchina-voin - 1 Ref Point = 1PP trollthumper Cavalier - 1 Ref Point = 1PP

Ellie followed Ashley's lead while ordering, giving the proprietor a broad, lopsided smile as he ushered them to their table. She noted the news segment with a glance but decided to steer away from politics given the occasion. "You don't need to go big with any of it, is all I mean," she continued an earlier thread of the conversation, reaching under the table to link fingers with her wife. "Everything online is going to say you need these flowers and this cocktail menu at the reception and some relative is going to have opinions about tradition all of the sudden and if they want to propose to their 'out-of-town' girlfriend they can do whatever they want. It's not like you've ever been about dressing up all ostentatious and giving speeches in front of a huge audience and you shouldn't have to fake it on a day that's supposed to be about the two of you." She paused. "Unless you want the princess gown and everyone you've ever met in attendance, in which case go off, queen, absolutely."

"Aw, nostalgic," Ellie approved of the statuettes, turning one over in her hands and giving a little laugh at the explanation for its design. She stopped short when Ashely segued into her announcement. After a slow blink the young doctor's expression split into a broad grin. "Well @#$%, that's huge!" She set down the tchotchke to step closer and clap a hand on Ashley's shoulder. "Do you need help with the proposal or were you thinking more low key? You were never big on having an audience. Intimate is probably better anyway. What about location? Are you going to make her dinner? Our kitchen isn't huge but it's got more room than the boat if you want to borrow it."

"Ahoy, Captain," Ellie deadpanned as she stepped aboard, giving a flourish that vaguely implied a salute. She overcorrected for the gentle rocking of the boat for a moment before years of gymnastic training and real world experience saved her balance and her pride. "This is great," she assured Ashley once they'd entered the main interior space of the vessel. "It's honestly wild that we don't know more people with houseboats. We're around a lot of people with big 'lives on a boat' energy." She handed off the cookie tin and gift bag so she could walk in an admittedly small circle to take in the living room, leaving Mara to accept the box Ashely presented in return. "This is how I know we're getting old, because I unironically love those throw pillows. I have throw pillow opinions now, Ashley. Hot throw pillow takes." The gift bag was surprisingly heavy and nestled in bright red and green tissue paper Ashely found a soft plush cat with cartoony smiling eyes, about the size of a dinner plate and almost as flat. It's weight shifted with the telltale sound of dried grains pouring as it was lifted and an attached tag explained that the pancake-esque calico was a saffron-scented reusable heating and cooling pad for soothing aches and pains. The cookie tin was also densely packed, a wild variety of homemade cookies grouped into several sandwich sized resealable bags for easy refrigeration and piled atop each other so that the lid barely stayed attached. "Yoyo and her cousins had a baking day with mi mama so if you like those for the love of all that's holy let me know so we can foist more of them off on you. I cannot overstate how many cookies we've been working though. Just an unconscionable number." Ellie picked up one of the mugs and noted the sports bar's logo while blowing gently across the steaming liquid. "Tell me again how you thought you were passing for straight...?"

"And only being able to copy other people's cool @#$% is sort of a raw deal when you're a teenager," Ellie was explaining to her wife as they walked from where they'd parked Mara's own bike toward the marina. One arm was linked with Mara's at the elbow before her hand retreated to the warmth of her white puffer jacket's pocket white the other supported a small gift bag balanced atop a tin of cookies. "I dunno, maybe it would have been cool for some of the kids with weirder situations, like they'd have somebody to practice with or relate to about whatever but with the side-effects nobody was lining up to shake Ashley's hand, right? So she pretty much never used her powers at school and got a reputation for having big hall monitor energy." After a pause she rephrased to account for Mara's lack of high school experience. "Fun police, I mean. My point is it's kinda huge that she'd reach out at all and making friends as an adult is like pulling teeth so I just want it to go well. Do I seem nervous? 'Cause if I seem nervous she's going to think it's her fault." She huffed, breath hanging in the chilly air.

One of Ryder’s eyes squinted briefly in a subtle wince as Wilona left the room but the small, silent shake of his head toward Luke was a little more obvious. Sending multiple people after the distressed girl wasn’t going to salve her wounded pride. He brought one hand closer to his oversized, novelty belt buckle, the one that looked to have started life as a printer ink cartridge, but reconsidered. Having one of the nearby Robugs keeps an unobtrusive eye on Wilona out in the hall wasn’t the worst idea but it seemed like it might require an awful lot of explanation and backpedaling if she noticed them. That did suggest a similar plan, though. He looked over toward Neko, trying to gauge the guarded time traveler’s reaction to the outburst. He’d seen her use her illusory cats in a similar way to his insect inventions but he knew she also had her own complicated feelings about wealth and having to adapt to a new environment. Probably better to let her decide what she wanted to do without any cajoling. Maybe the other cat-girl was a better idea; Carmen seemed like she’d be able to align with a little indignation in a reassuring way. Ryder just wasn’t sure how to suggest that without getting her hackles up as well. Which felt an awful lot like doing nothing but as Natalia liked to remind him he wasn’t necessarily the best person to solve every problem. Instead he gave a soft, disarming chuckle and leaned back to look over to Naomi’s table. “Ha, wow, paper cheques! You can get fun prints and stuff on those, yeah?”

Ryder shifted around the table to move into the space between Jonah and the girls, not blocking anyone’s line of sight but ensuring that anyone would need to step around him to move into another’s personal space. “The cat people get to make the cat jokes, big guy, that’s the deal,” he advised with an easygoing smile in Carmen’s direction that implied the spray bottle gag was somehow more at Johan’s expense than her own and a casual wave of his hand that coincidentally wafted away any lingering scents. He did a poor job of stifling a laugh when Natalia corrected her own claims and was about to refocus the conversation in that direction when Neko’s offhand remark startled him enough to nearly stumble where he was leaning against the table. “Wait, what? Oh, no, I mean I can’t sell any of the stuff I make, it’s not even really safe to use—“ He caught a look from Nat. “—no, I mean, it’s fine for me to use! Mostly. Just, y’know, uh. ‘Rich’ sort of implies a level of exploitation beyond making ends meet, right? We should talk about that more than acceptable margins for personal injury, haha, yeah…?”

Ryder started to reply but was interrupted by a muffled explosion of crumbling cement and creaking steel from back toward the front of the warehouse. “Mag, go camo and try to get a look,” the young inventor instructed, jogging across the room to put himself between the disturbance and Natalia and her grandfather without really thinking about it. “Yellow, see if you can get outside to—“ “Don’t bother, Professor Fujioka. I’m not planning to draw this out,” a clear alto voice called from the makeshift workshop’s entrance. The intruder was young, maybe only a year or two older than Ryder or Natalia, with dark skin in stark contrast with shock white hair starting to grow out of a buzz cut and a distinctive X-shaped scar on their jawline. Their clothes were a mishmash of layered pieces in blacks and greys punctuated by pops of neon green and pink, covered in patches, pins and tears. What drew Ryder’s attention, however, was the familiar chunky belt. “Aw jeez. Still super not a professor, yeah? Was kinda hoping you’d gone back to the future after the music festival.” His left hand hovered near his own belt buckle while the right was raised in an appeal for calm. Behind him the Robugs shifted nervously in place. “One-way trip,” Canister clarified, idly shaking the small red aerosol can in their hand with a metallic clacking. “Besides, you probably noticed the part where you’re not dead yet.”

"People who need a mobility aid like maybe a wheelchair too, yeah?" Ryder asked, leaning back and turning to make eye contact with Wilona at her table. "You're better than them. 'In some ways,' of course! Folks with learning disabilities, the blind or deaf? Hey, the elderly! You can do loads of stuff they can't any more. That's 'better', isn't it?" He lifted both hands in a sort of apologetic gesture. "Not to call you out or anything, nobody thinks that's what you meant. But more capable, more powerful, privileged if we're using hashtags, that's all different from 'better'. When someone starts talking about being 'better' that's kind of a red flag. "Better' turns into a justification pretty quickly, historically."

"Well, I'm just one guy but I'll alway try!" Ryder told Natalia in a dimpled aside before letting his expression dim a few degrees. "So, in the restaurant and bar business there's this, like, wisdom, I guess. Guy comes in to your place with some borderline Nazi punk patches on his jacket but he's being all polite and you don't want to make a scene so you let it go. And the guy keeps coming back and he never causes trouble while he's there and he turns into a regular. Then he starts bringing his buddy and that guy's being reasonable, too. And by the time one of their buddies starts being unreasonable you look around and realize you're running a Nazi bar, now." His mouth twisted in distaste, the expression looking a little alien on him. "I don't go in for slippery slope stuff but supremacist rhetoric is inherently violent, yeah? 'Wait and see' is not a viable option." He did a quick scan around the room and gave another self-aware shrug. "This friend might have a harder time paying off the meta-supremacist thing as no big deal to me specifically? If I've let a friend having a bad time get that far gone, though, I think I'd feel responsible for talking sense into them anyway. And maybe have a follow-up conversation with their club's leadership if they're hanging around." It was tough to say whether or not Ryder intended 'conversation' to be euphemistic or not.

Ryder wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction. "Framing it as practicality versus morality is a trap, though. If it was actually practical places with the death penalty would have, like, zero crime!" He turned both palms upward, exasperated. "If you're going to kill the villain and everyone they might have told and everyone they might have told, it never stops. Morality barely event enters into it, it's just a bad solution!" It was pretty clear that Mr. Hawke was planning to move onto the next scenario but Ryder continued in his rapid cadence, crouching down to about chair height and lowering his voice slightly in a faint compromise. "If you can track down all the 'agents', you make them a better offer. Nobody works for the Conqueror Worm if they think they have another option! Problem solved, network dismantled, no unintended collateral." He made little waving motions with both hands that Natalia recognized meant Ryder felt like he was stating the obvious. "If you're doing definite, immediate harm to avoid risking possible future harm you can't act like that's the big bold tough guy play. Take the big swing and do it right." He glanced back up to the front of the classroom then quickly back down to the table, mumbling, "That's what I was getting at, anyway."

"Jonah's got a good point," Ryder agreed encouragingly, walking over to the table from behind the lanky teen's seat and giving him a supportive clap on the shoulder. He didn't take a seat himself; it was enough of a challenge to contain his effervescent energy to a chair during a lecture and during a discussion his body language demanded more freedom. "We don't really have enough specifics to talk tactics. That's not really the point though, yeah? If we're approaching the prompt in good faith we have to assume there's a credible threat to hypothetical people we care about." He looked about the group for signs of agreement, running fingers through his strawberry blond bangs with a dimpled smile despite the grim topic. "So obviously you're going to think 'I'll just stop them from giving the order' but that's not putting the genie back in the bottle, is it? Intimidation's risky, panicky people are more likely to pull a trigger than not and threats aren't actually a great deterrent in practice. If they were we'd all be saying to let her go!" Ryder nodded to some of the other students who'd been quick to chime in with his usual friendly demeanour in recognition of their bravery in getting a thorny conversation started. "Broken jaws or burned hands heal eventually and even if you did something permanent they'd find a different way to communicate eventually plus if they didn't have, like, a personal vendetta against you before they sure would then!" The cheerful youth laced his fingers above his head in a stretch, rising up onto the toes of his paint splattered sneakers. "So if the plan is to force them not to make the call, you have to be to be talking about killing them, then and there, while they can't fight back." He shrugged with about as much gravitas as though he'd just suggested which take-out place to order from for lunch. "If that's off the table you need a different approach altogether. That's my thinking, anyway!"

Set Sense Motive: 1d20+3 23 Sekhmet Sense Motive: 1d20+2 15

"Um, excuse you," Set scoffed, casually taking a step to one side to get out of the way of Sekhmet's nimble dodge. "Tis but one failed god and one fetish streamer and both are me. Prolific and multitalented! Sekhmet hangs about mostly to romance dragons and Miss Neko tis a wholesome delight." The godling kept her hands curled in front of her like exaggerated paws while sauntering in a lazy circle so that Faster Pussycat couldn't keep both Sekhmet and herself in view simultaneously. She made no aggressive move but something about the singsong cadence of her voice made her irritatingly difficult to ignore. "Do you not consider yourself a fetish steamer? Imposter syndrome must be a terrible burden for you! Keep up your best efforts and surely you'll one day make it on Only Nyans! Ha, you see what I did there?" The other Heliopolian was considerably more to the point. Sekhmet's right fist erupted in golden flame as she pulled back before driving her fiery knuckles directly into the cat burglar's jaw with enough force to rattle bone. She made a move to grapple and pin Faster Pussycat with her other hand but stopped short and slid back a step instead as she noted that the abrasive thief wasn't as shaken by the blow as expected. Whatever power suffused her made her more resilient than her feckless attitude suggested. The warrior goddess sized up her opponent more carefully. "...why scribe a calendar on they garb?" "Right?! Your theming tis a dreadful mess. I appreciate Tura Satana as much as the next genderfluid sexpot but you wouldn't call the reference topical now would you!"

Sekhmet Delaying until after Set. Set Standard Action: Feint Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16 32 Move Action: Taunt Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16-5 26 Set Up: Transfer benefits of Feint to Sekhmet Sekhmet Standard Action: Unarmed Attack vs Faster Pussycat; Power Attack 5: 1d20+7-5 6 Hero Point from Set: Unarmed Attack vs Faster Pussycat; Power Attack 5, HP Reroll: 1d20+7-5 15 That's a DC 27 Toughness Save, with solar fire descriptors and Affects Insubstantial 2 and Incurable if it's relevant! Reaction: Initiate Grapple vs Faster Pussycat: 1d20+16 20 (With Improved Grab)

Set Initiative: 1d20+3 14 Sekhmet Initiative: 1d20+5 18

Set clapped his hands in genuine, childlike delight when Neko unleashed her skin-crawling illusion. "Oh, classic! Love the pop of colour, too many default to black-on-black but one needs variation or the definition of the legs gets lost in the writhing mass." In her lioness form Sekhmet shifted from foot to foot and narrowed her eyes at arachnids disappearing under the door, less enthused. She stood back up to humanoid form when Faster Pussycat opened the door so that she could properly glare down her nose at the self-aggrandizing thief. "Thee desired adversarial attention, reprobate," the goddess growled, flexing the fingers of her hands one at a time where they hung at her sides. "What then do thee intend now tis gained?" In the tense atmosphere Set looked between the imposing Sekhmet, enthusiastic Neko and smug Pussycat before giving a harrumph and snapping his fingers, much as their young streamer had done. The godling's form shifted in a heartbeat to a feminine presentation, white linen bordered in blood orange wrapping itself around her chest and sandals lifting slightly with a kitten heel. Lacquered nails lengthened to sharper points to imply claws and a pair of feline ears sprouted atop her head, brick red at the base to match her dreadlocks and fading to black at the tips. After a moment of consideration she added a black ribbon collar with a scarab-shaped bell hanging against her clavicle. "Can-nya-t stand to be left out," she explained sotto voce to Neko, bouncing on her heels enough to produce a little jingle.