Raveled

Doctor Hobo Initiative (1d20+5=22) Respectable. Ini for the thug 1d20+6=25 O.O Let's hope this trend reverse itself, shall we? Thug delays until after the hobo goes, and the eeeeeevil hobo doctor is working on something that takes a standard action, but still manages to hunker down and get partial cover. Thug moves and initiates grapple on Ironclad. Melee attack roll Melee attack roll to initiate grapple (1d20+9=13) Oh, wow. Even with her Defense suffering due to the Charge, that's a wiff. Okay, Ini order is as follows. Doctor Hobo --- Reconfiguring VP -- GM Thug -- Missed Grapple -- GM Dragonfly -- No injuries -- HP x2 Ironclad -- -2 Def -- HP x3

"Right then," Ironclad muttered under her breath. She channeled energy into her gauntlets, empowering the disruptors there and charging her flight systems. She gave a cry as she charged out of the darkness, aiming to hit the large thief squarely in its wide chest. She just hit him a glancing blow, though; the force managed to spin him around and knock him off the vat, but the heroine caromed into the ceiling of the tunnel and ended up partly embedded in the bedrock there.

OOC for this thread. This is not a shame pseudo-fight. Clad charges, Strikes, goes full Power Attack. 1d20+4=8 And misses, horribly. Would've hit 10, if I had figured in the Charge bonus, but still doesn't hit the thief. Ini time! Initiative (1d20+3=8) :shock: :? :(

[floatr][/floatr]Player Name: Raveled Character Name: Glowstar Power Level: 14 (196/199PP) Trade-Offs: None Unspent Power Points: 3 Progress To Platinum Status: 49/120 (Gold Status earned with Ironclad) In Brief: Son of a pair of villains, out to prove that he can be a hero. Identity: Public Birthplace: Little Rock, AK Occupation: Student Affiliations: Claremont Academy, the Irregulars Family: William Harris AKA Lawrence Patterson AKA the Saucer Lord (father), Camille Harris AKA Curare (mother) Description: Age: 18 (January, 1994) Gender: Male Ethnicity: Northern European/Sub-Saharan African Height: 5' 11" Weight: 190 lbs Eyes: Black sclera, red iris. Hair: Dirty blond Brian Harris is a young man of average height, with a slight, athletic build. His skin is naturally a creamy mocha color, but since he likes to spend a lot of time out-of-doors, it’s often tanned much darker. His face is broad and square-jawed: he shaves nearly every day and keeps his fine, flyaway hair trimmed short. It used to be golden blond, but it’s darkened several shades since his powers manifested. His eyes are his most shocking feature; the sclera is pure black, and the iris is bright red. Brian usually wears casual street clothes, almost invariably jeans and hiking boots. When he's expecting a fight, he dresses in a loose, silvery jumpsuit with dark red stripes that start at his boots, continue up his side and on the underside of his arms, and terminate at his fingertips. A scarlet half-cape completes the look. When not needed, the costume folds into a silver ring with a thin red line down the center. His energy blast and aura manifest as a dark red color, with black motes or fog swirling around the edges. Power Descriptions: Brian can generate and manipulate strange energies, which he can use to protect himself, blast his foes, and even fly. His body seems to be changing because of the energies, making him tougher than he was before and compensating for sleep and food. He doesn't even need to breathe anymore, and doesn't seem affected by weather or his environment. History: Brian Harris thought he had a pretty normal life. So sure, his parents didn’t have regular jobs, always going off on consulting gigs for a few days, and once even two weeks, but the family always had money and his parents were always there for important things. Brian was in Scouts, his high school baseball team, and had a girlfriend; he was prepared to live a normal life in American suburbia. He wasn’t prepared for the police to bust in during dinner in full riot gear and try to arrest his parents. He really wasn’t prepared to blast two of them off his mother with black and red energy blasts. She escaped; his father didn’t. Later, the folks from Social Services filled in some of the blanks. His parents weren’t just his parents. His father had been known as the Saucer Lord, and had used extradimensional technology to battle the forces of good on every planet in the Solar System. His mother was once called Curare, and in her prime had been the most hunted and sought after assassin on three continents. They had disappeared from the super-scene at roughly the same time, and until recently no one had considered that they might’ve retired together. Brian, though, was a complication no one had planned for – or rather, his powers were. No one wanted to put a kid in Blackstone or any other prison, but they couldn’t just set him up with a normal foster family, not with his abilities and background. At some point, someone contacted Duncan Summers, and Duncan and Brian had a long talk. The upshot was that Brian got a spot at Claremont Academy, and the chance to prove that he could be better than his heritage suggested. Personality & Motivation: Brian Harris’s parents raised him right: don’t cheat, don’t steal – don’t lie. It’s this last one that makes his parents’ betrayal so painful. The truth of their lives upset his life almost as much as the sudden appearance of his superpowers. He’s still reevaluating his life, seeing what makes sense and what needs to be adjusted. Some things don’t seem likely to change, though; he doesn’t like being regarded as a threat, as a villain-in-waiting. He does seem to genuinely enjoy helping people. And last, he’s still loyal to his parents, still loves them despite what they didn’t tell him. Brian is most happy when he's doing something, physically working to solve a dilemma or further his goals. Whenever there's a problem in front of him, he's likely to try and take some action, even if sitting and waiting would be the wiser decision. Powers & Tactics: Brian knows he's the big guns and acts like it. In a fight he tends to try and identify the most powerful threat, and deal with it personally. If civilians are in danger or his teammates go down, he'll protect them and try to get them out of the line of fire. He's not used to fighting foes on his level yet and can overextend himself in combat. Complications: The Family Business: Brain has to deal with a lot due to his parents. On the one side are people who distrust him because his parents were villains and they expect him to go down the same path, or else blame him for his parents' actions. On the other side are villains who expect him to help them because his parents went bad. Golden Age Honor: Glowstar tries to be very careful about how people view him. To try and avert his intimidating appearance, he sticks to a strict 'heroic' code of honor: he always engages in Diplomacy first, he always accepts a villain's surrender, and he will never endanger a civilian. Herald of the Destroyer! : Brian doesn't know it yet, but the energies he generates and manipulates are those of entropy, of the Terminus. Power Glows: Whenever Brain uses his powers it generates a strong glow around his body. While this usually isn't a problem, it makes it almost impossible for him to be stealthy. Terminus Baby: Brian's parents were passing through Freedom City when the second Terminus Invasion hit and had to take shelter with the rest of the civilian population. It wasn't until later that Camille realized she had been a full month pregnant at the time. It's almost certainly that in utero exposure to Terminus energies which caused Brian's powers. They're The Only Family I've Got: They may have lied to him and hurt him, but Will and Cammy are still his parents, and he'll defend them, physically if need be. Never Say Die: Glowstar's usually the last to retreat in a fight. Abilities: 6 + 4 + 6 + 2 + 2 + 4 = 24PP Strength: 16 (+3) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 16 (+3) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32PP Initiative: +6 Attack: +8, +12 Terminus Energy Array Grapple: +24 Defense: +12 (+8 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -10/-1 Saving Throws: 9 + 7 + 8 = 24PP Toughness: +12/+3 (+3 Con, +9 Protection, Impervious 9) Fortitude: +12 (+3 Con, +9) Reflex: +9 (+2 Dex, +7) Will: +9 (+1 Wis, +8) Skills: 80R = 20PP Acrobatics 16 (+18) Concentration 8 (+9) Diplomacy 13 (+15) Gather Information 3 (+5) Knowledge (Current Events) 9 (+10) Knowledge (Pop Culture) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Streetwise) 4 (+5) Medicine 4 (+5) Notice 7 (+8) Search 4 (+5) Sense Motive 4 (+5) Survival 4 (+5) Feats: 16PP Accurate Attack Acrobatic Bluff All-Out Attack Challenge (Combat Diplomacy) Defensive Attack Dodge Focus 4 Improved Initiative Luck 4 Move-By Action Power Attack Powers: 4 + 1 + 5 + 10 + 8 + 9 + 44 = 81PP Environmental Control 2 (Light, Extra: Duration [Continuous], Flaw: Range [Touch]) [4PP] Features 1 (Quick Change) [1PP] (Morphic-Molecule Costume) Flight 3 (50mph / 500ft per Move Action, Drawbacks: Power Loss [Daka Crystals]) [5PP] Immunity 11 (Life Support, Sleep, Food/Water; Drawbacks: Power Loss [Daka Crystals]) [10PP] Impervious 10 (Drawback: Power Loss [Daka Crystals]) [9PP] Protection 9 [9PP] (Energy) Terminus Energy Control 19 (38PP Array, Feats: Accurate 2, Alternate Power 4, Affects Insubstantial, Drawbacks: Power Loss [Daka Crystals]) [44PP] Base Power: Blast 12 (10 120ft Range Increments / 1,200ft Max Range, Extras: Autofire, Flaws: Action [Full], Feats: Knockback 12 [DMG 24]) [36/38PP] (Entropic Multi-Blast, Energy) Alternate Power: Blast 12 (10 110ft Range Increments / 1,100ft Max Range, Extras: Penetrating [DMG 24], Feats: Precise) [37/38PP] (Focused Entropic Blast, Energy) Alternate Power: Create Object 12 (Lifting STR 60 Heavy Load: 50 tons], Toughness +12, Extras: Movable, Feats: Stationary, Tether) [38/38PP] (Energy) Alternate Power: Strike 12 (Extras: Area [General, Burst, 60ft radius], Feats: Knockback 12 [DMG 24]) [36/38PP] (Boom!, Energy) Alternate Power: Strike 12 (Extras: Linked [Drain, +1]) [24PP] + Drain Toughness 12 (Extras: Affects Objects [+0], Linked , Feats: Slow Fade [1 minute]) [13PP] [37/38PP] (Entropic Strike, Energy) Drawbacks: -2PP Vulnerability (Daka crystals, Frequency: Uncommon [-1], Intensity: Moderate [DC x 1.5]) [-2PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC18 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Boom Touch/Area DC22 Reflex 1/2 Effect DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Create Object Ranged DC22 Reflex Trapped Focused Blast Ranged DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Multi Blast Ranged DC27* Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Strike Touch DC22 Fortitude (Staged) Drain Toughness DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) *Up to DC32 with Autofire. Totals: Abilities (24) + Combat (32) + Saving Throws (24) + Skills (20) + Feats (16) + Powers (82) - Drawbacks (-2) = 196/199 Power Points

Robin tilted her head slightly, considering the entire situation for a moment. Gabriel was pleasing to look at, no question, and he possessed a magnetic charm. She couldn't help but be attracted to him. On the other hand, he either had a very eclectic wardrobe or was one of those heroes who was determined to keep his heroic and civilian lives separate. Could she even have a casual relationship under those circumstances? She'd never know if she didn't try, though. "There's an Italian-sushi place around the corner," she said. "They never look at me twice when I wear my coat in the summer."

Their meals arrived at roughly the same time as Quo-Dis's question, giving Jessica something to focus on besides playing footsie with Blake underneath the table. She started cutting into her chicken breast as she answered. "It's been kind of hectic," she admitted. "Lately I've been doing a lot of work at the Lab -- that's this big building in Hanover, where a bunch of science and tech heroes like myself have gotten together to pool our knowledge. It's proving a very good idea. "For instance," she added, moving onto preparing her pasta, "I'm pretty good with computers, but mostly they're a means to an end, a way to coordinate various systems and functions much more surely and competently that I could otherwise. But there's this woman at the Lab, Miss Americana." Jessica took a deep breath and regretted it almost immediately. As usual, she was two meal behind, and the smell of such well-prepared food literally under her nose made her want to throw etiquette to the wind and stuff her face now, never mind that she'd be talking with her mouth full. She swallowed the saliva that suddenly flooded her mouth and forced her attention back to the conversation. "I swear this lady could make a computer sit up and tango if she wanted. She shaved a few runcycles off my targeting algorithms, folded redundant programs into others, and reduced my sensor packaged quite a bit. Let me stuff even more into my armor." Jessica took a bit of chicken and close her eyes in bliss. She didn't quite moan and she didn't quite stuff her face, but it was a close thing either way.

"I own fifteen percent of the company," Ironclad replied. "Should I go in and ask for my fifteen percent of the dangerous chemical back? No, this is about stopping a madman from killing people." Rather than try and sneak down the tracks, the heroine activated her ehteric drive and rose a foot or so into the air, floating over the rusting steel tracks and the accumulated mess on the floor of the tunnel. Maybe a hundred feet away and hidden by a slight curve of the passage was the subway stop. This had evidently been finished, but judging from the color scheme it had been sometime in the Fifties. It was both lit and heated by several strategically placed kerosene heaters. In the railway was a huge vat; several empty drums were scatted around it, and the thief was in the process of pouring the Dawes Tech chemically in. Three large ducts led off the vat and up the stairs, presumably to the surface. There was some kind of control interface set into each vent partway along, and a smaller man in more shabby, dirty clothes bustled between the stations, making adjustments here and there. Ironclad floated just inside the mouth of the tunnel, careful to stay within the flicking, inconstant shadows shed by the heaters. She didn't want to risk even whispering to Dragonfly with the bad guys so close, so she texted instead. Looks like we got here just in time. Which one do you want?

Jessica sat back and listened to the conversation. It was refreshing to sit here in the company of people her own age and not be in mortal danger, or even discussing the latest scientific and technical breakthroughs like she did with Mara. Just sitting here was nice, especially with Blake by her side. She glanced over at him, and under the table her foot moved over to tap against his.

Ironclad wasn't sure how to respond to the idea that they were retrieving her property. Ever since her argument with her mother two months ago, her future employment was less certain than it had been. "It's not really my property," she protested. "It's the company's property. I mean, my family runs the company and we hold most o the shares, but the company's property isn't my property." Ironclad lapsed into silence again as the two women trudged through the muck and the mire. They transitioned into different tunnels several times as they hunted the tagged chemical container, and eventually they left the sewer tunnels behind. Soon, Ironclad pushed open a steel door to reveal a tall, wide tunnel with what looked like rail tracks laid into the ground. The young inventor looked up and down the tunnel and spotted a solid wall a few hundred feet in one direction. "Unfinished subway station," she said, her voice suddenly quiet. "We might not be all that far outside the city."

Ironclad wanted to blast through the tunnel at top speed -- aside from the whole 'bringing a criminal to justice,' people messing around with Dawes Tech, with everything her family had built over the years, really got under her skin. She managed to keep from leaping into the air, but her long strides were quick, keeping her ahead of her shorter friend. "Don't know his name. Don't know if he has a name. Last time we met, he was a dead man, so I assume he's still dead. Had some wicked-strong electricity blast, and wasn't a slouch up-close, either. Actually, um, got the better of me. That's when I met KC -- he saved my life." Ironclad's step faltered for a moment, then she resumed her fast, angry stride. "We took him down, but some hobo with a sonic pistol showed up, grabbed him, and disappeared. With any luck, he'll lead us right to Doctor Dishabile's lair." The pair came to an intersection and the heroine checked her tracker. Their quarry had evidently turned inland, so she set off down a different, even darker tunnel.

Ironclad reached up and unfastened the odd attachment to her faceplate. "Sorry about the muck," she said. "As for how we're going to find him -- preparation." The battlesuited hero flexed her arm and a pair of small flat devices, roughly the size of a credit card, shot into her hand. She gave one to Dragonfly and pressed hard in the center; instantly, a holographic arrow appeared above the little device, pointing down a tunnel that ran north and roughly parallel to the coastline. "This warehouse is Dawes Tech property," she explained, activating her own tracker. "Earlier today, I came in here and planted special tracking bugs on the most likely targets. Now we just follow the glowing arrow." She suited action to words and turned to walk down the tunnel. "There's good news, though," she called over her shoulder. "I think I've seen our thief before."

The figure ducked to one side and the spacial distortion slammed into the wall of the warehouse. It still didn't speak, but instead moved away much faster than something that large should be able to, racing to one corner of the building where a storm drain sat. The heroines had a moment to realize that something had ripped the cover of the drain from the concrete floor, then the large figure jumped into the drain and disappeared. Ironclad charged straight after it and dropped into the sewer herself, but although she sent her enhanced senses questing up and down the tunnel she couldn't find any trace of the thief.

Jessica saw her friend blink into existence out of the corner of her eye, but didn't spare time for banter. Her suit's sensors cut through the dark inside without a problem, and she immediately focused on the large figure making its way to the far corner. She shouted wordlessly at the figure and it stopped in its tracks, turning slowly to face the two young women. Whoever or whatever it was, its form was vaguely humanoid, but the long, shabby coat and shapeless, dirty hat obscured any other identifying features. The creature was hefting a large metal drum under one hand like it weighed nothing, and slowly raised its free arm to point at the heroines. Electricity gathered along its arms, gathering faster and faster, until it leapt out at the two women in a shattering, blinding lance.

Ironclad snorted, the sound coming out odd and distorted through the armor's speakers. "I should've gotten you a parka instead," she said. "Or gone all the way and gotten one of those orange survival suits they have on --" She broke off suddenly and reached a gauntleted hand to the contraption bolted onto her helmet. After a moment she spoke again, her attention clearly on something else. "The alarms. Inside. Were tripped. By something." She bit her lip and debated the wisdom of crashing in right now. On the one hand, doing so might scare away the thief they were trying to catch. On the other hand, the interior of the warehouse was still cold, suggesting that whatever was in there wasn't a mundane criminal in there. "What the hell," she muttered aloud. "If you wanna be a hero, you gotta be heroic." She stood and seemed to jump off the roof, but as her arc tended downwards her flight systems kicked in and she floated across the gap between the warehouses. There was a skylight there, and she dramatically crashed through it, sending hundreds of tiny glass shards falling to the concrete floor.

Robin Cross :arrow: As her NPC version has been approved, I would ask that her hero version be archived, please. Doktor'd

"Just make sure you keep the espresso stocked, then," Ironclad replied. "Speaking of which, how's the 'bot coming along? Installed an AI on it, yet?" The heroine shifted her stance slightly and glanced at the clock burning in the lower-right hand corner of her vision. It was getting on to midnight. If the thief didn't show up soon, the young heroes would have to switch off stake-out duty while the other one went for a snack run.

"You're underage," Ironclad muttered to her friend, her own attention clearly fixed on the opposite warehouse. "Remember, we have to set an example for... little kids and puppies. Or something like that." Her scanning program caught a heat source and directed the heroine's attention to it; after a moment of inspection, though, it turned out to be a patrolling night watchman. Ironclad silently urged him to hurry on. If her guess was right, he could only be hurt by staying here. "Remember I wanted to talk to you around Christmas? I think someone's been stealing chemicals and heavy equipment from different storehouses here in Greenbank. I've a couple of suspects in mind, but I don't want to just catch a mook in the act. I want to track them back to wherever this stuff is ending up."

Ironclad started when her message indicator beeped at her. It took her a few tries to stab the icon, but as she read and re-read her friend's message her mind grew calmer, her emotions more under control. She tapped back a reply a few minutes later; I'm fine. Just, suddenly had to check on Blake. Can't really explain it, actually. Just suddenly knew I had to make sure. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Um. Should I be hurrying back with the cavalry?

11:28 PM, December 31st The end of the year winds were blowing across the city, and across the warehouse roofs in Greenback. Ironclad, crouched at the edge of one such building, didn't feel the chill through her armor. She was focused on a chemical warehouse across the way, looking through its walls with her infrared sensors. She had one knee against the ground and a bulky contraption affixed to her helmet, scanning the building's frontage steadily. Sitting next to her was her good friend Dragonfly; Ironclad hadn't told the other woman exactly what was going on, only that she needed backup for a job.

"Cash always spends," Robin agreed, pulling out a paper bag. She searched through the apron until she came up with the charm, then wrapped it in tissue paper and put it inside the bag. She slid the bag over the counter and took Gabriel's cash, counting it out carefully and retrieving his change. She passed it over and placed it next to the bag, but kept her hand there for a long moment. "You know," she said, her voice quiet, "if you really want to learn more, we could talk a bit. Over, say, dinner?"

Ironclad disappeared in a flash of golden light. She dashed across the campus commons, literally too fast to be seen but nevertheless tracked by a half dozen systems that vetted her as a guest. The library was a single large room on the ground floor of the teaching building. The heroine slowed as she approached the door and adopted a slow, careful gait; even with her mind in the state it was in, she subconsciously tried to keep the noise down. Ironclad walked through the library, drawing no more than the occasional odd glance from the other students. There were several places where long tables were laid out for study and she finally found Blake at one, his nose in a book. Just the sight of him whole and hale quelled the loudest of her eats, and she retreated out of sight behind a shelf. There was one of the rolling footstools there, and Ironclad gratefully sank to the seat, trying to quiet her mind.

"I know the feeling," Jessica told Quo-Dis. "I had tutors for most of my life. When I finally went to HIT, it was hard to adjust to a classroom with twenty or thirty other people in it. I found it very frustrating when I'd snap up a subject or concept easily, but the teacher would have to keep going over it for the benefit of the other students. Have you found anything like that," she asked, her tone polite but her brain buzzing with curiosity. After all, it wasn't every day she got the opportunity to talk to an actual alien! "Any topics or subjects you find difficult to understand, compared to the, uh, native-born students?"

"I don't know why you're surprised that the Catholic Church knows about magic and the supernatural," Robin said. "They've been protecting folks from such things for thousands of years. As for a theurge..." The sorceress trailed off and stared at the ceiling again, collecting her thoughts. "In general terms, a 'theurge' is anyone whose magic is tied in with their religious or spiritual faith. To be a bit more exact, it refers to those mystics whose religions don't already include an element of magic. You've heard of Kabbalists, no doubt? They believe that by studying the Torah they can learn to control the world around them; they are, in fact, theurges. This is in contrast to, say--" Robin stopped abruptly, pressing her lips together and giving Gabriel a small smile. "I'm sorry. You didn't come here for a lecture. I should be able to get a copy of the Malificarum in just a few days, actually. It's a rather popular tome, next to expurgated copies of the Necronomicon." She walked back behind the counter and pulled out a length of paper, quickly scribbling out a few prices. "Here's the price for the charm, if you want to pick that up now, and for the books."

The idea is that the staff is normally in the form of a choker around her neck, but when Robin wants it, it transforms into her staff and leaps into her hand (as a Free Action, thanks to Quick Draw). There's lots of examples where a staff or a sword is stored as a ring or bracelet. I'm just using it to solve the problem of carrying a big, clunky stick everywhere.

Robin blinked at the overt question, put off her game a touch by the sudden change in topic. "I have several books on magical theory," she said, "as well as bestiaries, herbological texts, traveler's guides to the outer planes, histories of the weird. I myself am not a theurgist, but I think there's a history of several of the Church's more, ah, mystic orders." The sorceress untied the apron and lifted it over her head, shaking out her hair and folding the stiff leather over the glass counter. She walked over to where the books were piled and squatted there, walking her fingers across the spines for a few minutes. Before long she pulled out a largish tome, perhaps three hundred pages long, and bound in a blue velvet cover. Letters embossed on the cover declared it to be Shepards of the Flock: the Definitive History of the Church's War Against the Black Arts. Robin walked over and handed the book to Gabriel. "And of course, there's usually some interest in Malleus Malicifarum. I'm out of stock at the moment, but I could order a copy in."