Raveled
-
Posts
7,385 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by Raveled
-
Corona nearly went insane from having to sit around the ship for so long. She was used to having a job aboard a vessel, or at least a berth and a bunch of paperwork to sort though. Here though, on the Praetorian ship, she had a bed and nothing to do. She didn't even know enough about Praetorian tech to offer her help, all she could do was sit around or get in peoples' way. She ended up spending most of the time either in her bunk, reading up on what little the Lor knew about the Praetorians, or else exercising in the bowels of the ship. When they finally reached their destination, she could've jumped for joy. Instead she dressed in her battle armor and took a position on the bridge, avidly watching the sensor sweep. Her fingers itched to reach out and do the job herself; she was used to flying alone in her own shuttle and had to fight the impulse to do everything on her own, but she knew that she needed to step back and let the Praetorians work.
-
"Winters here are insane, yeah. First year I was here it kept getting colder and colder. Every day there was a new low I was like, 'yep, that's as cold as it can get,' and then the weatherman would talk about the unseasonable warm spell the season was." She rolled her eyes. "I don't get why everyone didn't abandon this place years ago, migrate somewhere with sane temperatures. "LA is... I'd like to go to Seattle or some place, maybe, and it'd be fun to say that I partied in Baja or whatever. But it's... It's just a place, you know?" She flashed a smile, trying to cover her unease at talking about where she came from. "Places aren't important. People are." Asli sipped at her water, frowning at Nina's comment. "You can't force greatness on people," she said. "You can't make someone get a college degree at gunpoint and then expect them to be a million-dollar CEO or something. Yeah, the country's really messed up in some fundamental ways, but you can't force everyone to be da Vinci or whatever. Some people just don't have it in them. What you need to do," she added, speaking more forcefully, "is provide a safety net. Make it so when people do take a fall, they don't fall right out of society. Make a safety net and then make sure there are some ways for people to climb up society. More and more things seem way too stratified, with the people at the top staying at the top and stamping down on anyone who tries to climb up."
-
Tona crossed her arms and tucked her chin into her chest, adopting a petulant tone. "I wasn't planning on killing her," she said. "We should be prepared for anything, though. If these heroes are under Tarva's control, then we have to be prepared for them to try to protect her." She frowned, thinking hard. "It might be a bad idea to confront them at all. If we can draw them off the building somehow, we might be able to take Tarva with much less danger to anyone else." She eyed Steve's road form and Yves's slim one. If they wanted to cause a ruckus but not a big one, who would be better at it?
-
Aya K'zan was on edge. She was in among Lor again, except not; she was walking in the bowels of a Communion ship, of the Communion ship, of the Communion mothership that had almost ended the galaxy. Scientists from all over the Coalition (and wasn't that an odd thought? Trusting Grue scientists!) regularly toured the vessel and repeatedly claimed it was safe, harmless and inert. That didn't stop her skin from crawling or her mind from imagining things in dark corners. Now she was in among the Grue, and even if they were supposed to be free Grue she had a hard time telling them apart. A few had adopted radical bodyshapes, with lumbering shoulders or two heads or three arms or loping limbs, and she could only imagine that it was to look different from the masses, but the effect was somehow even more unsettling than a crowd of brick-red faces. She shook herself out of her funk and consulted the dataslate she was carrying. "We have the location of the latest murder," she said. "A factory down in something called Bricktown. We should check that out, first."
-
Asli glanced at the menu before setting it down. She waved off the waiter; she would make do with water. "I was born in LA, matter of fact," she said. "I managed to snag a scholarship to FreeSA and moved out here when I was just a kid. After that..." She sipped her water, trying to decide how to summarize a decade of bad behavior in a way that wouldn't send Joe fleeing into the night. "There was some bad stuff. I didn't go home, and I guess Freedom City's home, now. "Now my music, that's just influenced by life. If you don't know Stone Soup, they encourage their artists to mix their sound up. I've played alongside county bands, punk bands, speed metal, even a marching band once. Mostly though, I just go for a strong beat and lay down truth on top of it." She leaned in, her hands reaching out as she tried to shape abstract concepts in the air. "I'm not doing gangster rap. I hate that stuff, wasting words and time on singing about drugs and rape and violence. I'm a hip-hop artist, and that means I put poetry to rhythm and rhyme. I try to make something so infectious and catchy that you can't every forget it, and I fill the words with what people need to hear. Wonder and beauty and kindness -- that's my style."
-
"If it was even the Furions," Tona said. "I'm not saying that the Terminus has subverted some, but would the Freedom League know the difference if someone showed in shining armor and said they were from the Silver Tree? If we're dealing with one of Steelgrave's chosen," she pointed out, "then we can't assume she's telling the truth. About anything." She shook her head sharply. "She could be feeding Steelgrave information on every single one of the city's heroes, prepping the Terminus for a successful invasion -- and the longer we stay here talking about it, the more time she has to do it."
-
Asli sat up a little straighter, stopping herself from reacting to the look from Nina by shooting a look at Joe. She had never dined with actual royalty before, even if the head of the family was someone she'd like to -- well, she'd like to do a lot more than just slap Typhoon, but she'd start there. She certainty hadn't considered that she'd be eating at the same table as her daughter on some blind date! "It must be hard to find yourself opposing your father so often," she said, unsure of what else to say. "Do you... still get to see the rest of your family?" Asli had her own family problems, but they mostly were about guilt and debt, not state treason. She couldn't imagine abandoning them and then standing up against what they stood for, but if Nina had then the woman was truly remarkable. Even if she seemed full of herself.
-
With Mark in his almost-suit and Nina in her slim dress, it was official -- Asli was way underdressed for the occasion. She exchanged quick hand-shakes with Mark and Nina, greeting them both quickly. She followed at the end of the group as the waiter led them through the press of tables. It gave her time to take a look at Joe, and realize that even the damn wait staff was more dressed up than she was. This was already getting off to a swimming start... Once they were all seated she finally had a chance to answer. "Yes, I'm a writer and a singer. Hip-hop, mostly, but I'm under contract to the Stone Soup group so I've done a little bit of everything." She glanced down at her own shirt briefly. "Halestorm's not my usual style, but it's, uh, sort of laundry day I guess. So Nina," she added, "is your family from Socotra? If you don't mind talking about it, when did you get out?"
-
I'm still here! Corona's still up for punching bad guys Lor scum xeno scofflaws alien criminals!
-
Corona needs some stuff happening. Maybe something with the Praetorians, or some other space PCs?
-
Asli told herself, for the seventh or eighth time that night, that she shouldn’t be so nervous. She had faced down muggers, bank robbers, supervillains, and unfathomable terrors from beyond reality. A simple dinner with some strangers shouldn’t make her stomach do flip-flops (unless they were eating barbeque, maybe…). Of course she did those sorts of things every week, and she hadn’t been on a proper date since high school. She didn’t really have anything to wear to one. Her wardrobe was bereft of dresses and skirts; she was wearing her least-ripped pair of jeans and a Halestorm tee-shirt without any profanity on it, and she’d polished her boots for the occasion, but she still looked more ready for a mosh pit than a dinner out. She could claim it was because of short notice -- the bouncy guy with the cape and infections energy had only talked to her a couple of weeks ago -- but this was probably the nicest outfit she had owned in a decade. The train slid into the station and Asli stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her pants and joining the crowd making its way to street level. She spotted the restaurant almost immediately and felt her stomach jump up into her throat. She had a sudden, irrational desire to run back up the stairs and get back on the train until it was in Greenbank again, but if she ran away from a date Samantha would never let her live it down. She took a breath and crossed the street, walking in behind a man with a long jacket on.
-
The archer tensed up at the Omegadrone's sudden outburst, her hand dropping to her sides and her fingers flexing slowly. She knew that she wasn't supposed to attack the drone, that he was supposedly working to protect this world, but seeing him so angry still put her nerves on edge. Every instinct she had was telling her to run away, but she had to stand her ground and see this through. An Annhilist living literally above the city was too dangerous to let stay, even if she had to ally with the drone. And... the woman. She swiveled her hips to consider the other woman. "I know what Harrier is," she said. "I've never seen you before."
-
"We should consider," Tons said slowly, "that they might not be themselves." She glanced at the pair in the room before continuing. "The Termnius likes to turn people against themselves, turn their mind and body to Omega's side. Are we sure these heroes are still in control of themselves? Still able to make their own decisions?"
-
Tona crossed her arms, tapping at her bicep thoughtfully. The DuTemps Building rang a bell, but she just couldn't place it quite right... In any case, it didn't change the situation much. "If we know where the witch is, let's get her. I don't know what you can do," she said, addressing Yves directly for the moment, "but an Omegadrone through their front window should distract them long enough for me to sneak in a back way. Once I'm inside I can find the witch and deal with her. Then we all get out of there and," she narrowed her eyes at Harrier. "I can go back to trying to forget that you are in this city, too." The plan was direct, and simple, and probably overconfident, but the archer didn't feel like standing around and trying to hash out every little detail. In fact she didn't feel like standing around in the same room as the former Omegadrone for longer than strictly necessary.
-
Tona glared daggers at the other woman, her ire rising at the suggestion that she was one of those sorry masses that labored under Omega's rule. Harrier's revelation was more important, though, so she put the comment aside and focused on the big man in front of them. "You should be bringing this to the Freedom League," she pointed out, "or told us to show up in battle gear. If there's an Annhilist in this universe, we need to find them and --" She paused. She immediate reaction to the presence of an Annhilist was, well, rather permanent, but she was painfully aware that most superheroes had a softer view on how to deal with even such huge evil. "They can't be allowed to threaten this dimension. We should deal with them quickly, however we have to."
-
Happy birthday, Quinn, wherever you are.
-
Tona Baudin had spent a long time thinking about the situation. She did not trust Harrier, not entirely, despite what Wander said about him -- he was a creature of the Terminus, and would never be able to shake that association as far as Tona was concerned. If Sam was around, maybe they could have put their heads together and come up with a more elegant solution, but Sam wasn't around. The only plan Tona could come up with was, well, direct. She walked through the front of the restaurant with quick, angry steps, tugging at the cuffs of her long shirt. It didn't exactly hide the otherworldly leather braces she wore under her clothes, but then she wasn't really trying to hide anything. She found the door and paused, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing herself. She didn't want to lash out at Harrier directly -- well, she sort of did, but it probably wouldn't be too productive. Tona stepped through the door and immediately stepped to the side so she had a wall at her back. She gave Harrier a hard look, the silence between them stretching out until she finally broke it. "You said you wanted to talk," she reminded him. "Why?"
-
ic Graduation Proclamation: Honor Society
Raveled replied to Brown Dynamite's topic in Unknown Space
Tona Baudin lay in the dark, her hands creeping blindly over the floor and walls and ceiling like spiders, searching for a crack or an opening. She heard the babble of other voices in the back of her head and her own harsh breathing, but she stayed silent unless someone addressed her by name; she was in Hell, and hanging on to the last bits of her sanity with an iron grip. It was almost ironic. Tona had been born to death and struggle in the harshest dimension in the multiverse, and was one of a handful of Claremont graduates that had actually experienced war. This wasn't war, though. She was under lock and key, trotted out to fight and kill for the amusement of the masses and then herded away into the dark again. She had heard stories about this sort of thing, of Omega's gladiatorial arenas where the victors would be 'rewarded' with transformation into a drone. She didn't know exactly what her captors intended -- she didn't even know who they were, the guards where completely armored and might well have been robots for all they responded to the students -- but in the darkness her imagination created the most horrific scenarios. So she spent every waking hour trying to find the limits to her cell, and hopefully a way to escape. -
Welcome back, JD! School can be pretty rough, yeah. Feel free to take all the time you need for RL issues.
-
... Okay. What do you want Jay to roll for that?
-
Would it be possible to intercept the guy as he's jumping over? I'm foreseeing a rooftop-ledge interrogation.
-
Blue Jay Punk Princess Dead Island Honor Society A Problem Like Corona Miras Is This One of Those Dates? GM Don't Go Into the Water Filling out my veteran rewards so it's all official. PL 10: Blue Jay PL 7: Empty SPAAAAAACE: Corona Bronze: 5 PP of Equipment on Blue Jay, 10 PP of Equipment reserved Silver: Miras Gold: Untouched
-
Tona stared glumly at the airplane. "It had to be by air," she said as the baggage handlers loaded her heavy bags, clutching at her carry-on. "No one travels anywhere by foot or by plane anymore. No, everyone thinks it's perfectly fine to climb into the air and hope it doesn't fall out of the sky like would make sense." Eventually she was allowed to board and she chose a seat more or less at random, hugging her bag to herself. She had to be shown how to buckle the restraint, and absolutely refused to let go of her weapons. As the airplane spooled up and taxied down the runway, the acceleration pushed her back into the cushions; she closed her eyes tightly and felt her heart try to beat its way out of her chest. Images surfaced from her memories; snow, a man who was dangerous to be around, a mocking Russian accent, a twisted wreckage of metal, a man bleeding out on her arms. She opened her eyes a crack, staring at Cerys. "If we crash," she groaned, "I'm going to eat you first."
-
Blue Jay took a long look at the man, wondering just how much he knew about their mission and the island. "I don't know about gangs see," she said, stressing the words. "There are plenty of gangs in the city, but none hit like that. In any case, I should see the AEGIS agents. They're why we came here, after all." She looked around at the forests, trying to discern the paths the monk used to get around. "For that matter, how long have you been here?"
-
Harris sipped his drink. "I don't know anything about Atlantean graves," he said. "For the last seven years I've been living in Frankfort and diving into Lake Michigan. Don't believe what people tell you about the Bermuda Triangle, young miss," he said. "Foot for foot, liter for liter, the Great Lakes have swallowed more lives and more ships in peacetime than any other waters in the world. And Lake Michigan has more wrecks at the bottom than the other four put together." He put his drink down and walked over to a bookcase, pulling a thick folio tied shut with cord. "I was looking into the disappearance of a cargo ship in 1912. The Nautiloid set sail from Cardiff under Captain Olmstead and was due to put in at Chicago in April. It never arrived." He put the folio in front of Thaelia; the name 'Nautiloid' was embossed on the leather cover. Harris picked up his drink and settled into one of the overstuffed arm chairs. "I charted a course on the 1912 sea charts and sailed it in my own ship, using SONAR to look for the wreckage. I found a few unusual outcroppings and investigated with my RSV. At the second site, I found the Nautiloid" He took a drink of liquor and smacked his lips, sighing. "And a couple days later when I was exploring it with the sub, a bunch of frog m-- sorry, a bunch of Atlanean soldiers pull themselves up on my ship and point those damn sticks at me. Start screaming about how I'm desecrating graves. Let me tell you, I did find some skeletons down there, but humans and Atlanteans all look the same once critters eat the fleshy bits."