Raveled

Forest Brunch 11AM Near the edge of the Hunter property “No, we don’t need t’call the house,” said Woodsman into his phone in one of the quietest whispers Blue Jay had heard from someone on Earth-Prime. “Not gonna ruin their party because some punk has a lotta trees.” He hung up and pulled up his hoodie, rolling over in the tall grass to look at Blue Jay. Blue Jay, the legendary archer - the girl everyone at school was still comparing him to. “Less ya got weedkiller in yer quiver, we ain’t gonna help Fleur with those things.” He cocked his head towards the small grove where Fleur de Joie was patiently putting a stop to the animate trees that had been trying to march onto the estate for the past half-hour. “Les’ circle round through the grove there and catch the guy a’fore he gets bored’a playin’ Tree Army and starts ‘nuff trouble ta ruin the party.” Blue Jay didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly and rose to her feet, still staying hunched over and moving silently. There was only an infinitesimal chance that someone would pick up her profile against the lights of the Hunter mansion, but one didn’t survive the Terminus by taking any chances; so she walked with her back bent and moved between pools of shadow. The pair moved slowly, and they moved patiently, and they moved carefully, and so the pair made better time through the undergrowth than anyone else could have thought possible for a pair of unenhanced humans. Blue Jay had her amazing alien gauntlets on, but she had also picked up her old bow and quiver, filled with special ASTRO Lab-provided warheads. There wasn’t any point to keeping a quiet eye on the party if she was going to throw around glowing blue energy projectiles, after all. And if it just happened that she had a chance to show up Claremont’s newest refugee-turned-archer superhero, that was just a happy coincidence. Blue Jay carefully drew out three arrows and nocked one, crouching in the darkness and observing the target. When she was sure that Woodsman was next to her, she spoke, in a tone just barely louder than the rustling trees. “I can put him on the ground,” she said, “make sure he doesn’t get away. But we need to make sure he can’t create more plant monsters to send at the house.” “Gotta flashbang,” replied Woodsman, carefully notching a particularly fat bolt into his crossbow. His hands moved as he spoke with cool precision, his gloved fingers having picked the bolt from his belt without a backwards glance. His whisper was a fast, almost inaudible rush of words. “Hit ‘im from rear, you hit from front,” he suggested. “He can’t see - he can’t do crap; and then you’ll hit ‘im in the face. Once he’s down, we go in and take him out.” Their target was…Riley made a hiss that was the loudest sound Blue Jay had yet heard him make. She knew the figure of the Green Man well enough, the humanoid plant and his minions were a frequent threat to the people of Freedom City. But Riley seemed to be looking at him and seeing something else. “Goddamned freak,” he finally muttered as he began to move into position. Blue Jay shot a look at Riley as the teenager moved deeper into the darkness, her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed. She didn’t expect an outburst of emotion like that; emotion made people irrational, it wasn’t good on a hunt. There wasn’t hardly time to have a discussion, though. The archer crept out of the treeline and onto the manicured lawn of the Hunter mansion. The tails of her long coat hung down, obscuring the shape of her legs and body, making her into an indistinct, shambling shadow against the indistinct green-gray-black of the forest. Blue Jay made sure to avoid any pools of light until she was where she wanted to be; then she stood in one fluid motion and fired, the heavy warhead of the glue round making almost no noise as it soared through the air. She had chosen her position intentionally, standing between the Green Man and one of the lit windows; she was immediately obvious, and the plant man instinctively raised his arms to defend against the incoming projectile. That was precisely what the archer had counted on, though, and when the glue warhead detonated it coated his head, arms, and torso in a sticky, fast-hardening shell. He was strong, pulling at the gluey shell as if ready to break free, but a moment later Woodsman’s bolt erupted from the other direction and hit him in the back of the head. The flashbang was bright and loud, enough to stun the Green Man and keep him restrained. Woodsman was on the move - running up behind the Green Man, a razor-tipped bolt now loaded. “Hey, freak,” he spat. “Fleur de Joie is nice. We aren’t. Herbicide in yer eye, y’know? You stop fighting right now, do you hear me? Right now.” The Green Man turned as best his bonds allowed, saw the look in the eye of the teenager with the crossbow bolt aimed at his head - and surrendered. After Fleur de Joie had stopped by to pick up the now-subdued Green Man, Woodsman (who had been dead quiet while Fleur was there) unexpectedly spat right on the spot when the plant controller had been subdued. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. A moment later, he added, “Uh, sorry. I...had some trouble with guys like that. You know how it is, right?” He looked over at her and tentatively said, “They talk ‘bout you at Claremont still. The girl from the Terminus, with the bow.” Blue Jay (who had been quiet and as helpful as she could to Fleur) watched Woodsman from behind her mask. She hadn’t maintained close ties to the school since she graduated, but she had heard about a new archer from another ruined world. It was almost enough to make her wonder if there was some connection between bows and the apocalypse. “I’m not from the Terminus anymore,” she said, and then “That’s an impressive weapon. Did you build it yourself?” “Yeah.” Woodsman hefted the crossbow carefully, making sure it was uncocked with a matter-of-fact air that bespoke long, long practice, to show it to the other archer. “Gun’s too loud,” he said quietly, “‘n longbows ‘r no good in the woods ‘r in the city.” He showed her the various trick bolts, and the mechanism. “Built this one in d’Claremont shop. Lost the old one when I showed up on Prime. Y’know how it goes.” He smiled tightly. “How ‘bout you, how many bows’ve you gone through here?” Blue Jay held her bow out at arm’s length, spinning it easily with one hand. The weapon was much more than just wood and glue and sinew; it was a masterfully crafted piece of ASTRO Lab technology, carbon fiber arms balanced to within a centimeter, housing silently-spinning wheels that could hold hundreds of pounds of pressure. It wasn’t the sort of thing a survivalist could craft in the woods or even buy at a sporting goods store. It was a Mazarati of longbows. “I’ve gone through a few,” Blue Jay said dryly. “They don’t respond well to hitting a robot across the face.” The unspoken fact being that it was even worse to try and punch a robot. “I knew a few people back home who used crossbows,” she said, crouching in the shadows of the trees. “They were useful for ambushes, but they’re slow and they don’t arc.” She squinted, mask zooming automatically in response to her facial muscles. “I could put a dozen arrows on the other side of that hill,” she said, pointing out a hillock at the northern end of the Hunter estate, “before you could get to the top and recock your mechanism. Better reload means faster switching means hitting a target exactly how I need to.” Woodsman’s crossbow was a more modest affair - the mechanics looked relatively simple to Blue Jay’s trained eye, with the only real novelty being the reloading mechanism that Woodsman demonstrated for her. Pulling a recessed handle along the side of the bow pulled the string back and raised the bolts up one at a time from an internal magazine, letting him squeeze off bolts (into the nearest tree) at a rate _almost_ (but not quite) as fast as a trained archer with a longbow. “Don’t get penetration with that,” he admitted, “so I put junk on ‘em to knock ‘em out - or just binary explosives so it goes off in the skin. Just on really tough guys, though,” he said, perhaps a little too sharply as he walked over to retrieve his bolts. “Know it’s slow,” he admitted, “but where I’m from, they come fast and they hunt ‘n packs. You gonna take on a whole pack, might’swell break out the flamethrower or the razorwire.” “It still locks you into a load-out,” Blue Jay pointed out. She drew an arrow from her pack, holding it near the fletching and running her thumb over the knurled end. The arrowhead unfolded as she rolled the selector, going from blunt to bodkin to serrated. “If you load surface-reactive warheads and then decide you need a taser in middle of a volley, you’re stuck reloading. Besides,” she added, “if you were being hunted by an Omegadrone you didn’t want to stand and fight. You want to run from them, or lure it into an ambush. You don’t want to turn and fight unless you can’t run anymore.” Sh paused and added, “And we didn’t have flamethrowers, anyway.” “Heard ‘bout Omegadrones,” said Riley, his voice falling quiet in sympathy. “Bad stuff. Fer us it was the Ferals, uh...cannibals,” he added. “Ones who used to be super, you’ve gotta…” He turned his head and looked at the manor, half-visible through the forests, and then back at Blue Jay. “Hey, listen. I’ve got venison jerky and orange water in my canteen. You wanna get up in the snipers’ nest ‘in talk about where we’re from? Sounds like ya got some stories.” Blue Jay considered the offer, tuning to look back at the light and laughter of the Hunter mansion. “I don’t want to talk about Omegadrones,” she said flatly. “But I can think of a few useful stories.”

I'm going to be out of town Friday and Saturday, so don't expect anything from me those two days.

The Stranger floated to the ground, bare feet touching the carpeted floor for the first time. He considered the arm in his hand for a moment, making sure that the corpses weren't getting up again. When he was satisfied that the zombies were down for the count, he dropped the arm onto its body and turned to the tellers. "Excuse me," he said, his blank face moving the absolute minimum required to speak. "Have you angered a necromancer lately? Perhaps turned down a loan mean for drippy candles or medical cadavars?"

Ghost Rider would be great? You've lost all credibility, man.

Where does Deadpool fit on the list?

Blue Jay danced back from the dinosaurs nimbly, easily, avoiding their slashes and rushes with grace and ease. As she spun away from one blow, she looked up at the big-headed dinosaur ripping up one of the buildings. She narrowed her eyes and leaped, springboarding off the back of one of the smaller skeletons. That got her free of the crowd, and she easily sprinted to the tail of the larger dinosaur. The nimble archer swung into the beast's ribcage, her gauntlets shimmering and energy reforming into a pair of blue, studded clubs. She didn't really climb the creature; instead she leapt from rib to rib, shimmying up vertebrae as she swung the clubs all around herself. The blunt weapons broke bones and pulverized limbs, and by the time she exited out the creature's body the young woman was covered in bone dust.

Oh-kay. This is kinda complicated, so let's break it down. Move Action: Moving to the big guy, climbing in and about him. Jay has Acrobatics +15 and Skill Mastery, so no roll needed. Standard Action: Making an Acrobatic Bluff against the big guy. Again, Acrobatic +15 and Skill Mastery makes that a DC 25 check. Free Action: Switching array to Energy Blades, but I'm going to use the Variable to have those be energy clubs instead. Free Action: Spend a HP to Surge. Standard Action: Bop the big dino on the head with a full Power Attack. Results 1d20+6: 17 [1d20=11] ... With the Bluff that should still hit it. DC 29 Toughness + Autofire.

These things are hollow, right? Just skeletons? Could an acrobatically-inclined individual run through one? And can Jay reach the allosaurus still wailing on the building with her move action?

You could just have them be on their last legs.

Corona gave a cry and slammed Santri into a wall, dragging him along and digging a furrow in the plaster until she threw him through a door frame. Breathing heavy from the exertion and with plaster dust painting her armor white, she stomped over to Santri and glanced him over. Her armor's HUD popped up brief medical information; content that the criminal was out of commission, Corona turned to consider the rising spacecraft. Before she could pursue the craft, though, she ripped a steel beam out of the wall and quickly wrapped it around Santri's unconscious form.

Thank the space gods! Okay, Corona's going to take her move action to wrap him up in a steel beam or something.

Since Santri is grappled and pinned, Corona doesn't need a melee attack check. So it's just a DC 25 Toughness check for Santri.

The Stranger is going to punch again! Results 1d20+10: 20 [1d20=10] Ugh. This fight is never going to end.

Wayward brings her own chair so she can sit backwards on it. "Let's rap, kids."

Obviously just about anyone could work for Entrance of the Gladiators, but Blue Jay's already been in a couple situations like that. I think Corona would be fun there, to play up her fuming at her own helplessness, or else the Stranger so he could talk to and try to psychoanalyze the mind behind it all. Miras could do drug hunting in Purple Haze, but she'd need a reason to be in Sweden. Maybe a European tour with the rest of Stone Soup? I would put the Stranger in for What Should Not Be Unearthed. It's fun to throw one eldritch abomination at another. I HAVE to get Blue Jay into Age of Unitron. Robots going crazy? She'll have nightmares for weeks! Same thing with Extinction Agenda, really. Corona's an easy choice for Grue Today, Gone Tomorrow. Grue and crime and Khanate? Talk about a target rich environment. The only concern might be her racism going into overdrive. Blue Jay's a natural choice for Blank Space. She's worked with AEGIs and UNISON before and is simply the best tracker on the boards -- potentially the entire planet. Miras has to get into Thank God, It's Thursday. Disco vs. Hip Hop, who can piss off old people more?

The Stranger ducked back out of the zombie's reach before charging back in. He grabbed the zombie's arm, yanking and separating the monster's arm from its desiccated body. "Your master shoudl understand," he said, "that attacking any place in Freedom City is a fool's endeavor." He considered the arm for a moment, then tossed it over his shoulder. "I regret having to do damage to whomever claimed this body before, but you have forced my hand."

Wow, that's... a lot of threads. So Purple Haze is actually going to take place in Sweden? Am I reading that right?

This sounds like something Miras would take an interest in. Or possibly the Stranger, if he's piqued by bad dreams.

Good luck, H, and have fun, Fox!

Blue Jay Un-Organ-ised Crime Corona The Deadly Dozen Patriot Acts Miras Black Tie, White Hood The Stranger All Arise GM

Aya considered the hologram and tried to bring up something that hadn't gotten into her reports. She wasn't the sort to shirk her duty gathering intelligence, and she was sure that she was part of the Lor Republic, not a Praetorian; she hadn't held back any detail or scrap of recording. Finally, she spoke. "The Praetorians are individuals," she said. "Paradigm doesn't group them like a military organization; she doesn't seem to even try. It's hard to talk about things that apply to the entire group, but I will say that they're all brave and capable warriors." She paused and added, "But they're not soldiers. They don't focus on an objective. They hunt down personal honor rather than working as a group."

The Stranger is rushing back into melee combat with the monster. Results 1d20+10: 25 [1d20=15] THAT'S more like it!

The Stranger dropped his gory trophy and floated back, observing the creature's wild flailing with detachment. At least he had drawn it off the teller; with the civilian safe, he reached out his hand towards the undead creature. "Give me your strength, rotted beast," he hissed. "Tell me what bins you, and undo it!" He reached out with inhuman power and plucked at the threads tying the corpse together, seeking the cut the strings and drop it.

Blue Jay watched as more superheroes made their appearance. Th field was quickly becoming too crowded to stay back and launch attacks from afar. She shook her arms and a coil of blue energy fell out of her sleeves and pooled on the asphalt rooftop. She considered the street and cast out with one arm; the energy snapped out, wrapped around a rooftop corner, and she leapt off. The odd energy beam arrested her descent and she swung up, reaching the street at a run and extending another, wider tongue of energy from her other hand. The archer gave a yell and snapped the wider beam at one of the big skeletons with the bony tails. It hit, and wrapped around the ribs of the dead creature -- but the dinosaur just turned and it slipped off, leaving her to huff and reconsider.

So one was Dazed and the other one swung at the Stranger. Stranger is going to back up and hit that one with Hunger. Results 1d20+10: 25 [1d20=15] Thank goodness.