Raveled

Am both GMing and playing in Something Old, Something New, as well as Save the Girlfriend, Save the World. Ironclad Conversations: Objective Something Old, Something New Conversations: Intimate The Jade Arena of Heavens: Auspicious Convocation. Fun In the Sun News Post The Jade Arenas of Heaven: Shock the Monkey 12 + 8 + 9 + 4 + 8 + 2 + 7 = 50 Glowstar The Eagle has Landed Getting the Story Robots! Training Day News Save the Girlfriend, Save the World 3 + 7 + 8 + 2 + 2 + 7 = 29 GM Something Old, Something New Wonder! Marvel! Fantasy! Terror... Weight of a Legacy Save the Girlfriend, Save the World 2 + 30 + 7 + 3 = 42

Jessica blinked. "I stopped him, what do you think? I couldn't just stand around and watch --" She cut herself off and glanced around, then grabbed Tom's arm and started walking down the street with him. "I couldn't just stand there and watch my grandfather kill all those people. But even so, I feel like everything's gone topsy-turvy. I thought I knew my grandfather, but if I was wrong about him, what else -- who else -- was I wrong about?"

Ironclad is designed as a pretty well-rounded fighter, able to adapt to most situations. That being said, there could be a few problem areas. Grappling is not her strength; she can do it, but she doesn't excel in it the way that that a Paragon or Powerhouse does. Her exotic saves are PL-3, meaning that they're an east target. Most of her technopathic abilities rely on being in an urban, settled environment. In a more rural setting, she'd lose several powers. Lastly and most obviously, everything she does is through the suit. Shut down the suit and she's a non-combatant.

"Don't count us out," Jessica teased. "Us science folks think with portals, remember? Get Dragonfly all competitive and you might find yourself walking into a hole that come out in New York City." She snugged close to Blake again, closing her eyes and listening to his heartbeat. It was a very nice way to waste minutes, but before long she started shifting uncomfortably and then sat up. "This was a lot of fun," she said to Blake, "but I've got to get some work done." She stood and grabbed her boyfriend's coat and, blushing, handed his shirt back to him. "I'll call you in a couple days, okay?"

The mutant didn't have a chance. The lightning bolt struck it full on and spun it around slightly; when the creature came to rest, it was breathing shallowly, dead to the world. The remaining Deep Ones mewled softly to themselves and retreated deeper into the tunnels, beyond the hero's sight. With the goons dispatched, Warlock had a chance to examine the runes they were daubing on the wall. His first impression was that they were painting in blood, but after a moment he realized it was a thick, red clay of some sort, with mica or diamond flecks mixed in. He didn't recognize all the sigils, but several seemed similar to signs for earth or dirt. They were conjoined with symbols for destruction, and everything was inscribed within a thaumaturgy circle. Either the magic was intended to affect something a good distance away -- or else it was meant to be triggered by something a good distance away.

It's Staggered+Stunned, so I'm going to say it doesn't get a Reflex save. Toughness vs DC 24 (1d20+6=12) I'm gonna say that knocks it out. Warlock is the winnah!

So this is just kinda generic fighting, right? Not necessarily martial arts? Because all Ironclad knows is the Glorious Western Style. ;)

Ironclad wasn't prepared for the energy controller to make a flying leap into her arms; her flight system whined audibly as it shifted into overdrive and she drifted down to the ground floor, setting the healer down once they were standing on grass. From the room they'd just vacated, they heard Bear-Knuckle's frustrated, enraged yell. A moment later the super-criminal appeared at the hole in the wall, leaping out into the air. He fixed the air of heroines with a crazy, hungry gaze as he plummeted -- past them and onto a concrete drive. The ground cracked underneath the heavy man, but simply staggered upright and fixed the heroines with an angry gaze again. Ironclad, for her part, flexed her metal muscles for a moment and slid an odd puck-shaped device into one hand. "I've had just about enough of this," she muttered to herself. She threw the puck into the air, where it suddenly sprouted thin wires. The inventor grabbed one of the wires and charged Bear-Knuckle, swinging the puck. Unfortunately, at the apex of the swing the metal disc broke the wire and went spinning into the air. Ironclad cursed her luck and back=peddled, trying to keep out of the criminal's clawed range.

So Ironclad floats down to the ground, stunts a version of Stun off her weapon array, and attacks B-K. Stun 9 (Electricity; Feat: Improved Range) [19PP] Full All-Out Attack, full Power Attack vs. Bear-Knuckle using Stun (1d20+14=16) Not gonna spend a third HP in a round to reroll that, though, even if it leaves Clad with a 14 Defense. Jill's up. Rage is at 3 rounds, 7 left.

Now that Otaku was reduced to harsh language and impotent threats, Ironclad released his arm and backed away a few paces, out of arm's reach of the mad genius. Her faceplate remained oriented on him, but under her helmet she tracked the flight of the metal ball that Victory had reduced Otaku's driver/bodyguard/girlfriend (ew) to. Once it was out of even her magnified view, she turned to attention back to the trunk of the car, where Blueshift had tossed Otaku's wrist-suit. A large part of her wanted to chase after that metal ball, to tear open the trunk and go to work on that strange villain-tech right away. Nevertheless, she kept her place and said to Victory, "As always, if AEGIS needs help analyzing the technology, the Lab is happy to help."

Know/Current Events vs. Falconer's Reputation (1d20+10=27) All the knowledge, all, ALL!

Jessica glanced at the workbench, taking in the evident tools, partly assembled pieces, and scrap (though as with mos good workbenches the different wasn't all that clear) instinctively trying to put the entire mechanism together in her head. While her brain ticked over, she absently refastened the sleeve of her undersuit. After a minute or so of quiet she decided that she wouldn't figure out Mara's design anytime soon and changed the topic as deftly as she could. The pair of young geniuses chatted about noting in particular for maybe three-quarters of an hour, but eventually Jessica decided that it was time to get. There was a spring in her step that hadn't been there before, though, and as she did a quick check of her suit's systems she paused to give Mara another hug. "Thanks again," she said. "I just... really needed to talk things over with someone."

With +14, that comes out to 20. A 60 ft fall is DC 21, so.

Glowstar didn't even see the shot come his way. He felt the sudden pressure on his force field and cried out as it flared, filling his world with painfully bright light. There was a sensation of great, rapid movement and he felt a tremendous dizzy spell pass over him. When he came to he was floating -- well, a great deal higher than he had been a moment ago, that was for sure! He could see the city and the forest spreading out beneath him, and just about make out the prison and the clearing where the fight had taken place. He oriented himself on the clearing and started moving straight down, as fast as he could.

"HIT is a good school," Jessica insisted, only half-serious. "Anyway, I'm going to be not quite eighteen with a bachelor's degree. That's not exactly slacking." The young inventor wandered back to the workbench and picked up a piece of whatever it was Mara was working on. It looked like a glass or crystal spring, some transparent material twisted into a corkscrew shape, and big enough to fit over either woman's forearm. Jessica wasn't exactly sure what it did, and she didn't want to think about how much of her friend's -- apparently dwindling -- personal resources it represented. After a moment she put the piece down and spoke up again. "Anyway, power armor is hardly unique. Malice, Daedalus -- AEGIS practically mass produces that MAX armor."

Jessica looked around at Tom's words, momentarily forgetting er troubles as she worked out his meaning. The ghost of a smile touched her lips and she waved one hand, dismissing his worries. "It wasn't anything like that," she assured him. "I was only there for a few minutes and --" Jessica glanced around and stepped closer to Tom, lowering her voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "He was killing people, Tom. This was back when he was in the military, but he was slaughtering those other soldiers. He wasn't even giving them a chance to escape, he was just gunning them down."

Cyrne hovered at the edge of the group as Blueshift's panic attack was handled. Once everyone was in control of themselves again, he leg them deeper into the trees. Under their fronds, the view of open space was obscured and the light sources were dimmed a bit. The alien held out a hand and a red fruit drifted lazily down from the treetops into it. As he began sectioning and eating it (separate pieces seemed to peel away into his hands like it was being cut by an invisible knife) a piece of the turf slid back and a metal pole rose out of the ground to about waist height. A white hologram flickered into sudden life in the middle of the group. Cyrne waved a hand at it and said simply, "The ship." Its basic structure was a circle within a circle, a pair of concentric touri with a cone at the very center. Four 'spokes' connected the outer rign the inner, and four more connecter the latter to the hub. The image was surrounded by oddly curved sigils -- almost certainly the Ki-Roc alphabet. "This is a colony ship," Cyrne explained, stepped close to the hologram and pointing at different parts. "We held in the neighborhood of twenty-five million Ki-Roc colonists in suspended animation, with another two hundred bridge crew who rotated between sleeping and working. We were fleeing a catastrophe in our home, and for seventy or so cycles everything worked fine. Then... this." The alien gestured and the hologram flickered, replaced by one that was the same except for a small difference; a full quarter of the inner circle and nearly a third of the outer circle had been ripped away, roughly if the rent edges were anything to go with. Some of the connecting spokes were crumpled, too, as if by explosive decompression. Cyrne let the heroes absorb the image, then spoke up. "There are roughly three million of us now. Maybe the only Ki-Roc left anywhere."

"My grandfather's company does, yes," Jessica replied, choosing her words carefully. "But I can admit that I'm not as smart as you, Mara. You speak, what, four languages? Even if you do struggle with English sometimes," she added jokingly. "I could never understand the physics for all that dimension-twisting stuff you do. Besides, there doesn't seem to be enough time to work on all the projects I want to. Although, saying that." The young woman pushed off the table and hopped into the center of the working area, doing an impromptu, twisting dance there. It looked ridiculous with her missing helmet and gauntlet, but she was clearly so happy it was hard to laugh. "School will be done in the middle of May. I'll have my degrees and then... Well, I kinda always expected to go back and grab my doctorate or master's, you know? But that seems kind of redundant with the Lab around."

"I'd love to see the look on some exec's face when you tell them their product won't work. 'Mm. Unworkable design. Scrap. Start over. Call in month, will reevaluate.' Of course, if you're brain's available, Dawes Tech might have some work for you in the future, if I have anything to say about it." Jessica's smile faded by degrees and she shifted uncomfortably. "That... that wouldn't be weird, would it? Taking money from m-- from my company? When it is my company, anyway."

Jessica considered her friend's words. She'd never had to worry about money -- while Dawes Tech wasn't on top of the market, her family had never had to scrape every penny to get by, either. She'd never really considered having to make money, having to make one's own way in the world. It was a depressing thought, really, to imagine someone as bright as Mara having to worry about something as mundane and prosaic as money. That was the kind of thing that the Lab was supposed to handle, and the thought of her friend devoting time to a budget instead of a new project was more irritating than Jessica would've thought before this moment. She tried to push all that aside and forced a cheery tone. "I can't believe I just heard you admit to an 'unsolvable problem.' Should I mark the day on my calendar?"

Jessica blinked, straightening up from her inspection of Mara's idle projects. "Paperwork for a... Uh, congratulations, Mara! You're thinking of starting your own company? Commercializing some of your ideas?" The young inventor moved over to the table and perched there, half-sitting as she glanced over the papers. "But I thought you didn't like the idea of your tech getting in the hands of the general public. Something about the idiot threshold and the time/space continuum." She glanced up and flashed a smile at her friend. "Of course, if you ever make a key fob that can take a whole car, I'll buy one; my truck's great, but parking can be a real hassle in the city."

"Right," Jessica replied sarcastically. "I'll just ring up Victory and ask for whatever top secret records they have for a thirty year period, and if that doesn't fly I'll just hack into a secure government database. Paragon of law and order, that's me." She looked up and smiled though, her tone a bit lighter than it was when she entered the warehouse. "Really Mara, thanks. I don't really know what I'm going to do about all this, but... thanks for letting me talk it out a bit." The heroine hopped off the stool and wove around the shelves again until she could give her friend a loose hug. Disengaging, she moved over to the testing area and examined the chopped remains of many mannequins. "You know, we haven't really talked in... jeez, maybe a month? Outside of work stuff, anyway. How've you been? How're things going with you and Jill O'Cure?"

Jessica stood there for a long minute, even as the light changed. She finally started speaking but kept facing out to the street. "My grandfather was the only real family I ever knew. My parents didn't have much to do with raising me, my tutors couldn't keep up me, so he was my only real friend growing up. I pretty much based my life on his, except for going into the military. But he's the reason I got into science, why I became a hero. He... died last November. It was really hard." Jessica tilted her head back; there were angry gray clouds churning overhead, blocking out the light and threatening rain. "Then last week, I went back in time and got to see him again."

The fist landed squarely on the teen's force field, but though the energy construct depressed it didn't buckle, shedding the energy of the blow and leaving Glowstar untouched. The young hero floated on the air for a moment and waited until the crackling energy field died down, then locked eyes with Thunk. "You have a problem with me," he said quietly, "do not try and mess with civilians. Don't try and mess with my friends. Really don't try and mess with my family. Call me and we'll have a throw-down, but don't try to ambush me or I'll do this." Glowstar placed his hands on Thunk's chest and concentrated hard. For a moment the Boardwalk was lit up as bright as day, the strange energies within the teen surging out in a torrent of power. The troll went flying, and skidded a good distance once he did hit the ground. The fey creature lay in a small pile, smoking from the force of the blow. The pair that had just emerged from hiding froze, then scurried over to their big brother. When he didn't move right away, they each grabbed an arm and pulled him into the shadows. For his part, Glowstar let out a long breath and lowered himself to the ground, his force field fading away slowly. The young man turned to Crow and smiled. "So? Up for another couple rounds?"

Bear-Knuckle's eyes bulged out of his skull as he kept after the lithe, masked heroine, gouging out the plaster walls and carpeted floors as his claws found nothing but air. Meanwhile, Ironclad floated around the action on a cushion of magnetic energy. "You're talking to an ex-illegal streetfighter turned mutated super-criminal," she reminded the energy controller. "High prose is beyond him, methinks." The young inventor floated out the hole that Jill had made, double-checking the position of the entrapped Contenders and their snarling de facto leader. "That said, he's probably thinking less than he normally does. Make a floor and see if he won't come out here!" To give the other woman a chance to breath, the armored heroine let off a full-powered blast at the criminal -- only to have him rear at just the right moment and catch it in the back of the head! He went down hard, but within moments was scrabbling at the floor again, trying to get his arms and legs under him.