Raveled

This character is 95% done, if I haven't messed up the math somewhere. Obviously this is subject to Sorus's approval, but once I finalize the Complications I'm ready to toss her into the deep end.

Player Name: Raveled Character Name: Brigandine Power Level: 7 (105/105PP) Trade-Offs: None Unspent Power Points: 0 Progress To Bronze Status: 0/30 In Brief: The latest heir to an ancient legacy. Alternate Identity: Ami Jennifer Rask-Martel Identity: Secret Birthplace: Lyon, Rhone-Alps, France Occupation: Student, superhero Affiliations: Claremont Academy, Rask Aeronautics, Martel Industries Family: Walter Rask-Martel (Father), Brigitte Rask-Martel (Mother), Caroline Rask-Martel (Older sister), Jack Rask-Martel (Younger brother), many more. Description Age: 16 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Danish-French-Swiss Height: 5' 11" Weight: 115 lbs Eyes: Green-gray Hair: Black, dyed blonde Ami Rask is a tall girl, still skinny in the way of youth, with a boundless energy and an enthusiasm for life that shines through in everything she does. She hair is long and straight and naturally dark, but she dyes it a honey-blonde color. Her eyes are green-grey and bright and usually open very wide. Most of the time Ami is dressed in simple, elegant dresses and skirts in solid colors or complex patterns. She's a stickler for cleanliness and will usually check her clothes once or twice an hour for stray hairs, fuzz balls, or uncut threads. When Ami knows she's going into combat, she wears a jumpsuit designed by Martel Industries to maximize her psychic potential. It's grey-black, with large circles of channeling material over her chakra points and lines connecting them all. When she pushes her powers to the max, she lights up like a fiber-optic Christmas tree, but it helps to keep her powers under control. Her telekinetic 'suit' is a large, vaguely human-looking form with trunk-like legs and arms. Power Descriptions: Ami can create telekinetic fields that she layers around herself, creating an energy suit. While the suit is active, she is in the center of a ten-foot tall vaguely humanoid figure, with huge arms and legs and fingers. The suit is created from her will and her mind, so it reacts to her emotional state; when she's angry it may develop spikes and long, jagged claws. When she's scared it may become sleeker, more compact, more able to hide. When she's showing off it will gain a more defined and more clearly feminine form. History: Ami Rask has always lived in interesting times, and loved every minute of it. Her family is wealthy; about the same time as her parents married, Walter’s engineering firm was brought under the wings of Martel Industries. So Ami and her two siblings were born into the Martel family, with the usual high standards Martels demanded of all their family members. Ami approached every test with zeal and elan, and even when she failed she came through it with a smile. Even from a young age, there didn’t seem to be any limits to her courage or her desire to explore, and when she started moving things with her mind she accepted the new training with open arms. Soon, in addition to her regular schooling, Ami found herself given more specialized instruction and inducted into some of her family’s secrets. She already knew the Martels traced their line back to Charlemagne; she didn’t realize that the family had spent centuries battling to protect civilization. Now that Ami had some of the very special skills that the Martels had cultivated over generations, she would be expected to take a more active role in their fight. Despite the danger and difficulty of the drills, Ami approached every day with new enthusiasm and progressed through the training with speed. At the same time, her cousin Eve Martel was learning things at the Claremont Academy that she never could have understood if she stayed under the family’s protective wing. Sage was one of the most effective soldiers the line of Charlemagne had ever produced, and the decision was made to enroll Ami in the school. She accepted the notion of going across an ocean and living among strangers in a strange country with the same excitement that she did everything. She was sad to leave her family in France, but she was excited to go live in America and learn from the same people that taught her storied cousin. Personality & Motivation: Ami Rask is a gregarious woman, always upbeat and outgoing. She loves meeting new people, trying new things, going new places, and she very rarely says 'no' to anyone. She works hard to keep an upbeat outlook no matter what the situation may be; even if things seem bleak, she is always looking for the silver lining and trying inject as much positivity in to a situation as she can. Ami is intensely aware of her family's place, as the heirs of Charlemagne and longstanding protectors of the world. More specifically, she tries to live up to the standard set by her aunt, Eve Martel. While not everything the intense young Martel has done is openly discussed even within the family, she knows that her aunt has become a respected hero in Freedom City. Her name her family is a challenge to live up to, but her aunt is an example to emulate. Powers & Tactics: Brigandine isn't very subtle in her approach. She gets into melee distance to the most dangerous enemy on the field and engages them directly, wrestling them if she thinks she can overpower them with brute strength, or else keeping them busy so any allies she had can deal with other threats. If an enemy is keeping away from her, she can use almost anything lying around the battlefield as an effective javelin, or close the gap with a powerful leap. If she can, she likes to sneak up close beforehand to guarantee that she can start the fight by immobilizing the biggest threat Complications: Secret The decision was made a long time ago to keep Charlemagne's legacy a secret from the world at large. Ami strives to keep that secret, which means she has to keep her own superheroic activities a secret. Thrill Seeker Ami will try anything once, the more dangerous the better! She might choose an unsafe action simply because it's more thrilling. Psychic Backlash Ami's amazing suit is created by her own psychic power, and while she can usually control it, if she pushes her limits she can 'strain' her powers. Rousseau Was Right, You Know Ami can be idealistic, and if an enemy tries to surrender she'll probably accept it. This means ruthless foes can take advantage of her better nature. Agent of Charlemagne As a Martel, Ami may be called upon to undertake special missions for her family's mission. This could lead to a conflict of interest with other superheroes, even her friends. Abilities: 0 + 4 + 6 + 2 + 6 + 8 = 26PP Strength: 25/10 (+7/+0) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 20/16 (+5/+3) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 18 (+4) Combat: 6 + 8 = 14PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +7 Melee, +3 Ranged, +7 Thrown Grapple: +7/+20 Defense: +7 (+4 Base, +4 Dodge Focus, -1 Size), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -3/-1 Saving Throws: 0 + 2 + 3 = 5PP Toughness: +7/+3 (+5/+3 Con, +2 Protection) Fortitude: +5/+3 (+5/+3 Con, +0) Reflex: +4 (+2 Dex, +2) Will: +6 (+3 Wis, +3) Skills: 56R = 14PP Bluff 8 (+12)Skill Mastery Concentration 8 (+11)Second Chance Diplomacy 11 (+15)Skill Mastery Drive 8 (+10)Skill Mastery Intimidate 0 (+6Large/+4) Language 5 (Danish, English, French [N], Italian, Mandarin, Japanese) Pilot 8 (+10)Skill Mastery Stealth 8 (+6Large/+10) Feats: 17PP Attack Focus (Melee) 4 Attack Specialization (Thrown) 2 Benefit (Martel Family) Benefit (Wealth I) Dodge Focus 4 Improved Grab Second Chance (Concentration) Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Drive, Pilot) Quick Change Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Powers: 29 = 29PP Alternate Form 5.9 (Mind Improves Matter) [29PP] Enhanced Strength 7 [7PP] Growth 4 (Large Size, +8 Str, +4 Con, -1 Att/-1 Def, +4 Grapple, -4 Stealth, +2 Intimidation, Flaw: Permanent) [12PP] Leaping 2 [2PP] Protection 2 [2PP] Speed 2 (25MPH) [2PP] Super-Strength 2 (Str 40) [4PP] Drawbacks: (-0) + (-0) = -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Melee DC 21 Toughness (staged) Damage (Physical) Totals: Abilities (26) + Combat (14) + Saving Throws (5) + Skills (14) + Feats (17) + Powers (29) - Drawbacks (0) = 105/105 Power Points

Tona made to sit next to Wander, but after a moment's thought simply leaned against the wall and huffed. "So I just have to tell Marquez something and he'll leave me alone? But... c'est des conneries. I don't want to lie to my friends. It just... it seems like sometimes that they don't understand. I don't want to have to tell them that I regret what I did, because I don't. I just want them to understand that this wasn't just some criminal robing a bank or some supervillain tying to conquer the world. He had already won, and if I let him go free... he might try it again." Tona put her head in her hands. She suddenly felt depressed, drained, She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a hundred years, until this all just blew over and she could come out and not deal with it ever again.

Tona listened intently as Sam laid out her situation, even as it was a little hard to concentrate with her girlfriend sitting in her lap. "Um. So, your teacher broke the rules she set out for you. She killed some people, and... disappeared? And you went to AEGIS and AEGIS sent you to Claremont." She kissed the nape of Sam's neck. "And then you found me and I found you." She put her arms around Sam's waist, pulling the other girl closer to herself. "So if the Phantom Fox broke her own rules, is she still the Phantom Fox? Did someone else show up calling themselves the Phantom Fox?" She wiggled in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position with Sam's weight on her legs. It usually wasn't a problem, but now something kept poking into her belly and her thigh no matter how she repositioned. "Sam, are you wearing two belts or something?" Tona reached between them and felt her girlfriend's back, felt something rigid and metallic under her fingers.

Miras slowly stepped around the door and into full view of the others in the room. There were a few things she had expected to find tonight, but one of them was certainly not seeing a TV show host with his own Tumblr show up in Alison's apartment. The woman in street clothes with a glowing halo around her was more what she was used to, but Miras quickly regained her equilibrium. "I'm not looking to steal from a dead woman," she said, her tone cold. "I'm here to find out who is responsible for killing this woman." She focused on breathing steadily, but she couldn't keep a thread of anger from entering her voice. "If you're wearing a camera and think you're going to turn this into an episode of your show, we're going to have a talk off the record, Richard Cline."

Miras waved at the angry woman with the bow who was standing by the angry man with a bow. Masks and helmets aside, they were very much alike. "He was only own for about five seconds," she clarified, "after taking a missile in the back. You're welcome, by the by." She turned her attention to Set next. "I actually can't get back to Freedom City on my own, not right away. With a couple of days, I could probably replicate your teleport trap," she said, placing emphasis on the last word, "but I didn't bring that much water. If you can't get us home," she added, "maybe you could at least get us to Cairo. There has to be a consulate there. And we can just tell them that we got captured by the great and terrible Set."

Miras watched the cops and EMTs from her high perch, wishing that Deosil's journals talked a little bit more about scrying invisibility and a little less about orreries. She waited patiently for the last vehicle to leave, then wrapped fast time around herself and walked to ground level in a matter of seconds. She passed through the front door and up the steps of Allison's apartment just as quickly, slowing down as she approached the door. It was even easier to spot before, since now it was covered in yellow police tape, but Miras frowned when she noticed that someone had torn the tape down and left the door open. The mage flattened herself against the wall, creeping down the hallway until she was at the threshold of the door. She peered around the edge moments before a glare brighter than a spotlight shone out, chasing away the dingy shadows that clung to the corners of the shabby apartment.

Tona allowed herself to be kissed and sat at the table. She rubbed her fingers together, enjoying the tingling sensation that Sam's lips brought while she considered the question. "I didn't know it was a title," she admitted finally. "I know it was a person who helped you when you left Dis. That she taught you a lot about, well, what you do. Before you went to Claremont." She titled her head to the side and smiled. "If you learned anything at Claremont." "Um." Tona closed her eyes, struggling to remember anything else Sam had mentioned about her mentor. The little thief was even more close-mouthed than the archer about her past, and Tona didn't usually care to pry. "You're living at her place in Chicago. And she left you a bunch of money." She shrugged, hoping that Sam wouldn't be offended by her lack of knowledge. "You already met me pere, is this the point where I meet your mother?"

Corona checked her HUD and marched down to a section of seats almost at the tail end of the transport. The soldiers assigned to her were a scruffy, nonuniform sort, though so were most of the squads. Still, she gave them a look like their seedy appearance was a personal insult. The Lor stood before them at a position of parade rest, not saying anything for a long minute. Finally, she spoke, her words short and clipped. “Get yer minds off what’s going to happen down there,†she said. “It’s just a fight. Don’t worry none about watchin’ yer own back, worry about watchin’ the back of the guy next to ya. And he’ll be watchin’ the guy next to him, and he’ll be watchin’ the guy next to him, all the way around. And I’ll be watchin’ all of ya, and I don’t miss anything.†One of the soldiers, a lanky canid with a long-barreled rifle at his side, snorted at the idea. “You’re tellin’ me some grubbing Lor are going to care about my hide? When they can go and run away instead?†In an instant, Corona was pressed nose-to-faceplate with the canid mercenary. “No, I ain’t,†she whispered. “But I’ll tell ya this for free. Us grubbin’ Lor care a hell of a lot about messin’ up the Communion. And that’s what blowin’ this up is going to do, so just as long as we’re all about that then we’ll be fine.â€

Happy birthday, KD. I hope this year is particularly awesome for you, and I hope you get to barrel into adulthood with your foot to the floor and the wind in your hair.

Tona stood back and let Sam play with her skeleton pet. Mitsy fit right in with the general ambiance at Silberman's, especially now that the employees knew about Lynn's secret. Most of them weren't sanguine about a moving skeleton sleeping in sunbeams and chasing string and generally being a cat, so she had to stay locked in the apartment a lot. When Sam visited, Tona made sure she had plenty of room to pamper the little beastie. She returned Sam's hug briefly, and gave the spread-out papers and books an evil glare. "You're not interrupting anything that doesn't need to be interrupted." It was the work of a minute of stuff the loose papers and pencils into the book, close the cover, and set the whole thing mess aside. Out of sight, out of mind, and Tona was able to turn her attention back to her girlfriend. "So how is Chicago?" She slipped an arm about Sam's waist, not holding her close so much as just... holding her. "City's pretty cold these days. Did you find that backless parka for patrols?" She smiled slightly, her fingers tracing idle aimless patterns on Sam's shirt.

Tona Baudin did not want to be here, wanted to be almost anywhere else but here. She wanted to be swinging over the city; she wanted to be sparring with Mali; she wanted to be racing against Cerys; she wanted to be fighting for her life against some impossible robot. She wanted to be doing anything but what she was doing right now. Tona made an unhappy noise and bent back to the papers in front of her. Numbers and letters crowded her worksheet maliciously, stupefying her. The textbook was even worse, where ‘x’s and digits spawned entirely new fields that only had the most tenuous, theoretical connection to the original equations. The book and the teacher insisted that this all made sense, but the archer could not spot it for the life of her. She was searching for any release, any sort of distraction, which is why the upbeat midi ringing through the apartment caught her attention. She stood and wandered over to the hammock that been semi-collapsed by the simple notion of hanging it by one hook instead of two. The inside of the hammock was a wild ball of comforters, blankets, quilts, and pillows, and she had to hunt for a couple of minutes before she came up with the lighted rectangle of glass showing Sam’s face. Tona smiled and navigated through the unlocking, before she could read the message her girlfriend left. And then she frowned, slightly. Sam was usually quick and breezy and wasn’t above popping into a storefront a few doors down and walking up. Tona left the smartphone next to her math homework and walked into the apartment. She worked for a few minutes, then returned to the phone and messaged back to Sam, slowly and determined. Bathrum open.ready for u she returned, then set the phone down and waited. At least, she considered, she wouldn’t have to worry about algebra for the rest of the day.

"That's interesting." Miras glanced at the growing confrontation, but the magical discussion with Meatheral was pulling her attention away from the meeting of the archers. "I wonder if that was a defense mechanism, or is the book sentient? Did it choose you to be its bearer, or did it just want to survive? And then that forks off into a whole other bunch of questions." She stuck out a hand for the young man to shake. "I'm Miras, by the way. Somehow we superhero types never get to have a proper sit down, you know? Anyway, I got into magic the traditional route; i found some old books in an apartment I was renting, and since I didn't have anything else to do I started reading and experimenting. And now I can stop time. Not much call for that in the industrial sector, though." She flashed a half-smile and leaned back, feeling the hot stone through the material of her robe. "If you can remember what any of those shapes are, I can try and run them down. Who knows, maybe you'll be lucky and whoever wrote the book is still alive."

Tona clenched her teeth, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She looked to the side, up, down to the sidewalk, anywhere except directly at Wander. “I don’t go out looking to hurt people. I don’t hunt down purse-snatchers so I have an excuse to break their teeth. I look for people who need protecting, and I help them.†Her hands found each other and she started twiddling her fingers. It was hard to maintain anger, especially when it burned as hot as she was feeling it. She could feel that fire was flickering out, leaving Tona hollow and slightly nauseous. “I’m still talking to Dr. Marquez. I’m not skipping sessions or running out early.†The instant the clock said the seassion was over with she was heading out the door, but she never tried to cut out early. “But killing the Steam General was the right thing to do. I saved people by doing that, I know I did.â€

Is this the strategy Facebook game? As different from Avengers Alliance, which is the turn-based one?

Does anyone want to interact with the cops? Or shall we let them make their leave?

Miras could only stand aside and watch as Set and Arrowhawk's confrontation played out. It had the air of macho chest-pounding, and the arrival of the woman in silver armor and a wolf pelt didn't seem likely to defuse things. The mage took a step back, taking her well out of the triangle of valkyrie, Arrowhawk, and Set, and circled around to Meatheral. "I think they know each other," she said to him a bit lamely. "I figure the best we can do is stay out of their way until it blows over." She finished the last of her water bottle and walked over to a clear patch of stone, between two loops of silvery intestine, and lowered herself to the tomb stoop. "That was some pretty impressive magic back there," Miras remarked to Meatheral. "Do you just do the classical things, or more periodic elements? Because a magnesium elemental could've been handy back there."

Aya K’zan stood at the head of the transport, in her chipped and worn spacesuit, and tried not to glare at the xeno telling jokes just before they went into combat. She knew, intellectually, that there were a lot of different ways to approach a stressful situation, and that some people found that humor could bind them together, relieve tension, make them more effective; but given the stakes and what they were about to attempt, she couldn’t help but see it as a flippant, casual attitude at odds with the deadly stakes of mission. She didn’t know about the Terran, but she had seen Earth’s superheroes up close and personal before; Aya was sure this one could only be an asset. The grey alien with the metal tail, though, was proving harder to pin down. She navigated the military hierarchy like one born to it, but Aya had noticed purposeful insubordination from her a few times on this trip already, usually when one of the naval officers was throwing their weight around. The Republic’s normally-extensive data systems were shattered and overloaded by more critical data requests, so she couldn’t do her usual research, but something about that one rang in the back of the officer’s head. All that was secondary, though, to the mission at hand. “The operational commanders will tell us what we need to know,†she assured the others. She half-turned and boost the audio on her suit so that it would carry throughout the compartment. “There’s not much to say, though. This is going to be a simple operation, and if everyone concentrates on their job we’ll all get out of this alive.†She cut the boost and began reviewing the planetary details, hoping that she was right. She had only encountered a few of the Communion’s ground troops, and never in a mass battle. Aya was positive in her ability to hold her own against a few dozen; but the planet they were setting down on had had a population of billions. How many were left, mutated and controlled by horrible intelligences, and just salivating for the opportunity to get at these soldiers?

Likewise tagging. You know, I think all the commanders really do speak English.

Or maybe really awesome coupons.

Tona snatched her hand back. She took a step back from Wander and shrank back into her big, fluffy parka. "I wasn't passing judgement on everyone," she said. "The Steam General... He had attacked my people, my family. If he survived the destruction of that Earth and had gone on to attack another world, to destroy more people, then it would be my fault. Because it was my job to stop him, and I couldn't do it." She clenched her jaw and her hands; the anger was filling her with nervous energy, and she didn't have an easy way to spend it. "The Steam General wasn't some purse snatcher or bank robber. He killed planets, he killed superheroes and turned them into monsters. He was too dangerous to allow to get away." She eyed Wander, suspicion suddenly creeping over her. "I thought you would understand that, at least."

Now that her adrenaline was fading, the stress of the battle and the loss of her shuttle was beginning to start to weigh on Corona, and she sat in an empty chair on the bridge. She glowered at 'Prince' Dovox's transmission, wishing she could transmit her energy powers across a communication beam. "Damn pirates," she muttered to herself. "The Republic will have to send more patrols out here, once we drive back the Communion." She mind flashed to all the worlds, all the people, who had already been consumed by this new terror, and she felt a yawning gulf of despair open up under her feet. The Lor officer pushed through, though, standing upright and placing a hand on the merchant captain's shoulder. "On behalf of the Lor Republic," she said, her tone shifting to something official and imposing, "I will have to request that the Aphelion return us to the Sol System, or at least to a Republic military base. I thank you in advance for your cooperation."

Blue Jay I Know What You Did Last Summer We Need to Talk Fuel and Smokin' Engines Empty Mirror The Punk Princess Miras Incursion: God Squad Drugs & Death, Inc Azathoth Remix Corona Incursion: Opportunists and Opposition Incursion: Troopers The Dig Brigandine Mall Madness

Tona stopped suddenly, standing on the snowy cold sidewalk, her breath coming in harsh gasps. She turned to Wander, an irrational amount of anger surging through her. "The Steam General was an Annhilist," she pointed out, her voice barely below a shout. "He betrayed my home planet, he killed billions -- he killed my mother! And then when the world was coming apart around him, he wanted to jump ship and come to a new planet to start it all over again!" She poked Wander in the chest, driving her point home with sharp gestures. "I was trying to keep my people safe from him. I wasn't about to let him follow us! He killed that Earth, he deserved to stay there and die with it."

February 28th, 2015 Night The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey Miras stood at the edge of the rooftop and watched the police wheel the body out of the tiny apartment. She knew she really shouldn’t be here, she knew that it was a violation of the anonymity of Narcotics Anonymous, but her brain wouldn’t just let it go. She had missed Allison’s tousled blonde head at three weekly meetings, and after a couple of drinks the woman’s sponsor allowed that Allison wasn’t answering her cellphone, either. It had been a little bit harder to track her after that, as NA didn’t keep membership records, but she found the food bank Allison volunteered at and someone that Allison had taken home one night. That lead Miras to a dinky apartment in the Fens; at least she hadn’t had to break down the door to get inside. Inside it had been, well, the sort of place someone lives when they’re working too many hours at four different minimum wage jobs. The only thing that didn’t fit, the one thing Miras had been dreading, was Allison’s corpse on her bed, a needle still in her arm. She had called the police from a payphone and waited. To give credit to Freedom City’s finest, they responded quickly to an anonymous phone call from the bad part of town telling them that someone had ODed. Now the witch’s eyes followed the police and the paramedics as they wheeled the body away. She rolled an empty glass bottle between her fingers; it was a simple sort that existed by the hundred in any pharmacy. The label had been peeled off, and someone had drawn dozens of tiny ‘Z’s had been drawn on it with markers and fit it with a new rubber cap. It was perfect to hold a sample of intravenous drugs. A drug that had killed Allison. Miras felt something sharp cutting into her palm and looked down at her hand. The bottle was suddenly broken into little glass shards. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Whoever was behind this would pay for Alison’s death, but Miras wouldn’t let the scumbag take her own life and freedom away.