Raveled

Jessica had braced herself for Quo-Dis to argue the point passionately, possibly even make an embarrassing scene. It was a pleasant surprise when she dropped the subject so readily, and she took a deep breath to settle herself. She glanced through the menu quickly and settled on a composite piece, featuring samples of three of the restaurant's most popular dishes with a bowl of soup on the side. She felt Blake's hand on her knee and blushed again slightly, glancing over at him. Her hand still covered his, though, and gave it a quick squeeze.

Robin glanced around the shop, giving a slow roll of her shoulders. "It's late," she said. "Another hour or so and I would've been at dinner. Besides, most of my business is mail-order," she added. "Mystics are a reclusive sort, as a rule, but the serious ones need some pretty esoteric ingredients that you can't get at the corner store." Her eyes flicked past Gabriel, taking in the darkened street and the rapidly-sinking sun, its last rays illuminating the building opposite. "I hope you didn't have to go too far out of your way to get here. I could have delivered the charm."

Jessica's blush spread over her face until she entire face was beet-red, though she was more shocked than embarrassed at the conversational turn and Quo-Dis's frank discussion of the topic. She found herself trying to stop thinking entirely, to avoid where her imagination would take her. Still, Blake's peck brought her back to the moment and she took a deep breath, composing herself again. "It's not just about about 'compatibility,' Quo-Dis. It's about finding someone that means something to you. Haven't you ever heard that if something's worth doing, it's worth doing right?" She glanced over to Blake and smiled, squeezing his hand. "Sometimes it's worth waiting, to make the moment something special, do you understand?" She turned back to the alien and took a sip of her water. "Besides, some of your assumptions don't scan. We don't have 'a few decades;' no one here at the table -- excepting yourself -- is older than twenty. We can expect another sixty or seventy years with where technology stands today. We might each of us live to be a hundred if medical technology keeps improving. It can be worth it to wait and consider the consequences -- and there are consequences, not just of the 'biological compatibility' type." She blushed again, but pressed on. "There's emotional consequences, too. You don't get involved with someone at that level without getting attached."

Sounds interesting, but pretty big. This isn't on the level of the Grue invasion, but nearly a hundred space-bikers coming down to cause trouble? That's a big deal.

What PL is he? I'd say 8 just looking at the sheet, but in that case he's not combat capped.

Jessica listened to Corbin talking about himself and Claremont, comparing what she knew about the school to her own house and the Lab. Claremont sounded nice enough, but she was willing to bet that even a team of superhumans wouldn't be able to analyze and devise as well as the scientists at the Lab. Quo-Dis's comment about 'recent history' caused a bit of mental conflict, given that Corbin had talked about archeology; Jessica was trying to figure out how old someone would have to be to consider pre-history recent when the alien dropped the "I" bomb. The young woman's throat clamped shut, and if she had been drinking anything she probably would've either sprayed it across the table or choked on it. As it was her hand grasped at Blake's hard enough for her knuckles to go white, and a bright red blush began to spread from behind her ears, across her jawline. "We... we haven't, um, just yet," she said, her voice coming out soft "We... well, we just haven't." Her eyes locked with Blake's for a moment, then she broke the gaze and desperately searched the walls and ceiling of the restaurant, trying to figure out how to chance the topic of conversation. "So, ah. Quo-Dis. How long have you been going to Claremont?"

Jessica was facing away from the doors, so when Blake reacted to his friend walking in she had to twist in her seat to see the other woman. Instantly, she felt under-dressed for the occasion, sitting across from Quo-Dis. Still, she kept a smile on her face and reached over to shake Corbin's hand lightly, once he was seated. "It's very nice to see you again, Corbin. I'm sorry for running out when I did, but -- well." She waved her hand in the air, brushing the topic aside. "I don't think anyone was in full control of themselves in that fight." The young woman turned slightly and smiled at Quo-Dis. "Hello. I'm Jessica Parker. Do you like to be called Quo-Dis, or just Quo?" Despite her genius, most of Jessica's training had been in technical fields. She didn't know much about the many extraterrestrial races that visited Earth on what seemed to be a regular basis. It seemed best to ask, rather than risk an intergalactic incident.

Robin glanced up at the door, smiling to see Gabriel back. She put the damp washcloth in another pocket in her apron and went over to open the door, beckoning the robed man in. "Time and tides wait for no woman," she said. "Doesn't mention dust, but it's the same in that respect." She walked back to the counter, but instead of circling around to the other side she leaned back against it, half sitting on the glass display case. "Almost missed me, you know. Another hour and the shop would've been closed."

Hm, not sure how to play this. Should I just write out one long post about how Clad gets better?

It was late Friday afternoon, golden sunlight slanting through the buildings -- none of which found its way into Cross' Road. Robin damp-dusted the bookshelves nearest the door, stocking the books nearly on the floor and drying after herself. Her thoughts flitted from place to place, never settling for long. It was almost closing time, and the cleaning gave her a chance to relax. She was wearing the leather apron again, with a copper and bone charm curled in one pocket.

A muscle twitched in Robin's cheek, maybe the beginning of a smile. It faded after a moment as she turned her attention back to the villains the spell. A sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead and she made an odd, twisting motion with the hand she held out. She examined the structure of the spell hanging in the air and nodded to herself in satisfaction. "That should hold," she said, "for a few more hours at least." The sorceress took a step back and turned to Nick, giving the necromancer a small nod. "Nick. Never a dull moment in this city, is there?" She turned to the robed man and examined him closely, noting the golden glow the covered the man like a cloak, at least to her eyes. His magic smelled like freshly tilled earth, and felt like smoothly polished granite against her skin. She gave him another small nod, almost a bow. "Good sir knight," she said, just a touch of humor in her voice. "Thank you for your help. And for dealing with the police."

Added Knockback to her Trip, added some names to other spells. Should be clearer, now. Boosted the Magic array by 6 pts, too, to bring Illusion, Mental Blast, and Emotion Control to PL 12 caps. Because, really, if she's an NPC, why not?

Five Will Saves, inbound. 1d20+5=15, 1d20+5=16, 1d20+5=13, 1d20+5=20, 1d20+5=11 Looks to be about the fourth one lets her shake it off.

New Design Journal 16.1. Something interesting happened not too long ago in the middle of a fight. My etheric drive failed in the middle of the fight, but I need to move fast. I managed to jury-rig a system that let me... Well, I don't quite know. The whole thing is kinda blurry, but my suit recorded everything. Except I'm not sure I can trust my suit. My clock was off by nearly two hundred seconds. Very nearly three and a half minutes! I have a theory. Dragonfly records me disappearing into a blur. That could happen with some kind of temporal mucking about. It would also explain what happened to the missing time. I don't have the math to begin to explain what happened exactly, but maybe someone else at the Lab will.

Ironclad :arrow: Lose the trade-offs entirely with this update. :arrow: Buy two more ranks of Dodge Focus. :arrow: Buy another rank of Accurate onto the suit, raising its cost by 1 PP. Combined, the Combat block should now look something like this: [u][b]Combat[/b]:[/u] 6 + 8 = 14PP [u][b]Initiative[/b]:[/u] +3 [u][b]Attack[/b]:[/u] +3, +9 Battlesuit Weapons Array [u][b]Grapple[/b]:[/u] +3, +14 Battlesuit Super-Strength [u][b]Defense[/b]:[/u] +9 (+4 Base, +5 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed [u][b]Knockback[/b]:[/u] -4/-0 :arrow: I'd like to apply the 3 point version of the Normal Identity (Free action) Drawback to Ironclad. The justification is right here. This only applied to her suit, not the technopath powers that will (hopefully) come next month. Doktor'd

Ironclad collides with an RA!

Ironclad probably could've made some interesting observations as the sped through the city, dashing between cars literally too fast to be seen. She wasn't thinking about science for the moment, though; the only thing running through her mind was a constant mantra of OhgodBlake ohgodBlake ohgodBlake.Before long she came to her destination, slamming to a halt in Blake's dorm room in a flash of golden light. The superheroine scanned her surroundings, but couldn't find any sign of her boyfriend. She opened the door to reveal a startled man made of mist and fog. She grabbed the Claremont student -- or rather grabbed at him, since the mutant was apparently as insubstantial as he looked -- and demanded, "Where is Blake Salazar? Where'd they take him!?"

Jessica, all of six foot and an inch or two more in her armor, felt suddenly and acutely out of place. She stepped back from her friend and ran her flight system through a quick check. When it all came up green a second or two later she gave her friend a nod and said, "I hope you enjoy your pet. All the documentation is on the laptop." She turned to Silhouette and inclined her head slightly. "Again, sorry about the 'thinking you were a thief' thing." She turned away from the pair and moved further into Mara's warehouse, moving to the front door this time. As she moved, though, her fingers twitched against the skin of her armor and she tapped out a text message for her friend. Need to talk with you on something. Later. In private.

Don't forget it's the middle of the night! This should be fun. How do you want to handle it?

Nah, Ironclad's still running straight to Blake's apartment. Or rather, the dorms at Claremont. Hm. What would happen if an armor, heavily-armed figure rushed at the school traveling ~ 400 MPH?

*Scratches his head, looks at the base sheet* Now when the heck did that get changed around?

I'm worried about giving her too many points. She's only PL 12, I don't want to build her with 250 PP.

Got rid of the wards. They've just caused too much trouble. Of couuuuurse not... :twisted: Fixed! The Obscure is a fog. The staff strike is imbuing the staff with power, making it tougher and more powerful.

Ironclad felt a cold wave pass through her and settle just behind her temple, like the worse ice cream headache ever. It faded, as the terrible vision of her boyfriend getting savagely beaten replaced it. She went white beneath her mask and her moved even more rapidly that normal. There wasn't any faffing about with menus and screens; her mind reached out in some impossible way and her suit replied, reconfiguring in a thousand subtle ways. "Blake," she shouted, suddenly pushing the horned one and the confrontation at the warehouse out of her mind. "Hold on, I'm coming!" There was a sudden gold-and-green blur that lead to one wall, and a delayed sonic boom, then the heroine was gone.

Spending the HP I just gained to stunt off my Flight. Superspeed Array 5.5 (11 PP array) [11 PP] Speed 3 (100 MPH) [3PP] + Concealment 2 (Visual; Flaw: While moving all-out) [2PP] Enhanced Feat 2 (Improved Initiative 2) [2 PP] Quickness 2 (x5) [2 PP] Super-Movement (Permeate) [2 PP] ... What? It's based off Zephyr's sheet, okay?