Raveled
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Let's roll some dice! Maelstrom's Initiative roll. (1d20+2=9) And the bad guys, too. Big Curator drone's Initiative roll. (1d20+0=1) Fast Curator's Initiative roll. (1d20+15=34) Flying Curator's Initiative roll. (1d20+4=8)
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... And he blows up the base on the way out with the armor. Convincing the AI that he needs some help restraining it. Yesssss.
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Before anyone else could escalate the situation, the world itself decided to. A huge cylinder, easily ten feet across and thirty high, fell from the sky and came to a hovering halt over the wreckage of the space craft. It was mostly gold, with blue stripes from the top to the bottom. It scanned the wreckage with a neon green light; it quickly zeroed in on the spacesuited figure. "FUGITIVE-ESCAPEE-DISPLAY DETECTED," the cylinder intoned. "BEGINNING RETRIEVAL-REMOVAL-RECOVERY TO CURATOR MOTHERSHIP-BASE-HOME." "Like hell I'm gonna be 'retrieved'!" The spaceman cracked off a few shots that barely scuffed the armor of the golden cylinder. He took off at a dead run, deeper into the forest. The cylinder unfolded a tripod of thick legs and grounded itself, extending a flat-topped head with a blinking green sensor. The head regarded the assembled humans for a moment before speaking. "EARTH-LOR-HUMANS. YOU WILL AVOID CONFRONTATION WITH THIS CURATOR-DRONE-UNIT, OR YOU WILL BE KILLED-VAPORIZED-DESTROYED."
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The figure's gun darted back and forth as Thoughtspeed appeared to teleport from place to place. "I suppose you didn't need a groundcar," he drawled, edging away from the young heroes. "I suppose I'll just need to use my own two feet. In that case, if you could kindly direct me in the direction of the spaceport --" "Halt, villain!" Malestrom floated out the sky, hair moving behind her in waves, and put Mind-Set down on his feet. "Drop the weapon, and I can promise I'll go easy on you." The space-man twitched to cover the siblings descending from the sky. "Aw, hell. You people have a damn funny idea of a welcoming committee. Although if you think I'm going to just hand over my weapon, you must be touched in the head!"
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Those who obsess over chat logs will remember a discussion about a Blue Beetle-inspired hero, with a bit of a twist in that the suit's AI is the reasonable one, and the alien piloting it is the paranoid outsider. The idea was floated of an Area 51-style base where all sorts of alien tech and failed . My problem so far is that AEGIS, while led by a bit of a dick, doesn't seem outright evil enough to imprison a sentient creature who hasn't done anything wrong. An alien visitor seems like something the Freedom League would handle, frankly. Am I misreading the situation, or am I spot on? And if the latter, is there another organization who would do such a thing?
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"Very smart people on this planet, very smart." The figure struggled out of the craft, half falling and half leaping to the ground. He -- at least, it looked male -- was wearing a red-brown ribbed bodysuit, with a featureless black helmet rising from the high collar. "Now since you two got here so fast, I'm gonna assume you've got some kind of ve-hicle about. I'm gonna be commandeering that, or else you're goin'ta find out what it's like ta have yer molecules go in a bunch'a different directions." He cocked his helmet/head to one side. "Don't think'a me as a bad man, just think'a me as a desperate one."
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Blue Jay moved to stand next to Midnight, not inclined in any way to get between Wander and anyone Wander felt like yelling at. She wondered for a moment why he was mentioning the two heroes that, besides herself and Wander, had been unaffected by the magic Merlin had wrought when Accolon was from the Curator’s wo-- Oh. She kept her mouth shut to avoid her embarrassment. It was exciting enough to be standing next to the Marksman, after all, and to be in the same room again as the Brave. Although, his words got her thinking. “I thought the magic spell just changed people,†she said, quietly enough to avoid Cleary’s attention. “But if that’s the case, why does Accolon remember that world? Did it… did it create new life?†She felt a chill as she considered the logical corollary; that when they had ended the spell and destroyed that world, they had killed even Accolon had known.
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You have personalized air service, Malestrom replied, fixing on the blue and orange figure on the street. and you want a moped? Dream larger, brother-man. She didn't descend; instead invisible hands wrapped around Mind-Set and lifted him into the air to join his twin. Make sure your tray-tables are in the upright and locked position, because we're about to get going. The pair cut through the above the city, making a beeline for the smoking crash-site. Stronghold and Thoughtspeed were the first to arrive, to find what could only be the wreckage of a spacehip. It was hard to mentally reconstruct it; something lying over there might have been a wing or an engine or an abortive life-pod, and main body looked crumpled and deformed, and the debris trailing behind it could have been attached any-which-way, but clearly looked more advanced than anything either teen had seen on Earth. While they were looking over the wreckage, a hatch popped open on the largest part and a humanoid torso popped out. It pointed something glittering and decidedly gun-looking at the pair of heroes, and a drawling voice shouted out, "Put yer weapons on tha' ground! Or so help me I'll blast you where you stand!"
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Gene's face fell when the hulking mech was unaffected by his blast to it's legs. "Guess it was too much to expect the same trick to work twice" he said. Still, the thing was being worn down... but even as he watched more of the damage closed and reversed itself. More and more it seemed like this thing wasn't going to be taken out by a straight assault. Gene considered his options and a handful of glowing spheres formed in his fingers, as he walked them over his knuckles. He waited for his opening, and when he had a straight shot at the pilot's face -- "Open wide, you gorilla," he yelled, launching his handful of explosions. They arced and seemed to hang in the air, then exploded with a thunderclap that left everyone's ears ringing from several feet away. From several inches away the effect was sure to be magnified.
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Going to try one more attack on TNTeen's lonesome before I try to understand the Combined Attack rules. Switching to the Flashbang AP, going for the mech. TNTeen's ranged attack, vs Cobra Mech's Def. (1d20+7=25) No improved Crit on this build, unfortunately. But that's a DC 21 Ref save to avoid being Blind + Deaf.
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Rolls and suchlike for >this thread.
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Tuesday, June 3rd, 2013 Freedom City, New Jersey Lunchtime Rachel Coletta had chosen to take her lunch on the outside deck of Stan's Super Heroes, enjoying the warm weather now that it had come to Freedom City. She wasn’t particularly happy with her next assignment, covering a battle-of-the-bands style concert that was full of glorified cover bands. She knew that as the cub she would get all the stories no one else wanted, but it didn’t mean she was happy about it. To take her mind off things, she was indulging in a couple of her favorite vices; a big meal and people-watching with malicious intent. It was almost comical to see the small woman pick up the Atlas And All and try to fit a single bite into her mouth, but Rachel’s attention was more focused on the people walking around her. A woman in a trendy dress, swinging a bag from a Freedom City fashion house crossed the street; Rachel imagined that she was a secret shopper for a competing Los Angeles brand, scoping out the competition. She let her imagination run wild as she devoured the burger, and all too soon she realized her plate was empty. Rachel was pondering a cup of soup or salad to go when a piercing scream rose above the streets. She covered her ears, along with everyone else, but it didn’t seem to help; the scream deepened to a rumble in her gut, and centered itself high in the sky. She looked up, and saw a blazing something move rapidly towards the western horizon. It seemed to pass directly overhead, with a noise that set off car alarms and rattled windows, before disappearing over the horizon. The reporter left money pinned under her plate and dashed towards an alleyway, taking advantage of the confusion and found a dark corner. Her over-large purse opened and a form-fitting purple-and-orange costume floated out; Rachel’s hair shivered snake-like as it unwound from its long braid, and her clothes and her costume proceeded in opposite directions. In moments, Maelstrom rose from the alleyway, cape and hair floating behind her on the breeze and in the wake of her power. She made sure her purse was well-locked and stashed it on a rooftop, then headed north, towards the river. She meant to investigate whatever that was, but first she had to pick up someone. Nathaniel! Did you just hear that?
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Most of the passengers on the ferry were guards or doctors or other personnel of Blackstone, back from a few days in the city to do another term on the island-prison. That meant they were all fifteen or twenty years older than Cho, and consequently several of them were shooting the girl worried or suspicious glances. Eventually a fiftish man with close-cropped, greying hair approached her, a bit of a gut showing through his windbreaker. "G'morning, little miss. It's a brisk day today, isn't it?"
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Gene hunched over at Sam's rebuke and meekly reached for something wrapped in thick, green leaves. It turned out to be a banana, with a pale green skin. Gene peeled it and took an experimental bite, but it tasted just like the ones his mother brought home from the supermarket. That encouraged him, and he reached for a yellow, fluffy vegetable mash with brown bits in it; it looked a bit like mashed potatoes with bacon bits, just with very big bacons. Gene took a spoonful and tasted; it tasted more like a squash, and the brown bits were crunchy. He dug into the meal with a renewed fervor.
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Crowd Control's Ref save, vs DC 21. (1d20+6=7) Well, that's appropriate. That's a Bruise and a Daze! Post away, TT.
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Blue Jay glanced between Wander and Dr. Cleary; apparently there was a lot of emotion in the Brave right now. "Too much and nothing at all," Blue Jay said. "He talked about me, 'the golem, the circus freak, and,' um, you, I suppose." She shrugged. "He admits he attacked the police officers, but he keeps insisting this world is the wrong one. And he says he'll bring his world back. But," she added, glancing back at the room, "I don't think he'll be doing too much from an infirmary. Not for a few weeks, at least."
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Less than a day in and things were already going to hell. "Blod, no! We are not engaging any drones if we can avoid it at all." This was exactly what she was afraid of; only Kit seemed to have any conception of just how dangerous the Terminus could be. She looked around the camp, taking in the scene. Men, women, and children were moving with purpose, gathering up supplies and hiding what they wouldn't be able to take with them. She turned to her other two companions. "I'm going to go get Blod," she told them. "Crimson, stay with Kit and help get everyone ready to move." Blue Jay moved off before either girl could object.
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Saturday, January 18th, 2014 Early morning Approaching Blackstone Federal Penitentiary The water was still cold, and the waves crashed up over the bow of the ferry boat as it cut through the bay. The boat was small but fast, and the few individuals on-board huddled in groups, chatting and drinking coffee. Their shared location loomed out of the ocean like a mass of bad ideas, silhouetted blackly against the rising sun. Cho Paige hadn’t been able to get clearance to fly into Blackstone, the super-prison that held some of the most dangerous superbeings in the world. And somewhere, in the mess of power nullifiers and Impervium doors and alarms and armed guards, was a young man who wasn’t much older than she was, who had attacked a crowd of civilians. He called himself Ice Age, but the police report said he was Clive Ross.
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The civvies are technically a power. Crowd Control has Blast, ESP, Move Object, and a couple of other abilities fluffed as "mind controlling a bunch of people to make them do it." Any attack you make against the crowd is saved against using Crowd Control's Toughness, etc.
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Blue Jay frowned at the date. That was all wrong for someone who came from the Curator's world. And a reference to Ville d'Ye's made no sense; she was pretty sure the Curator had only recreated real cities. Unless he went mad on that world and when he returned to this one... No, focus Tona. Overly-elaborate theories weren't going to help her, here. She should just meet with Ms. White's associates. Wait, Ms. White? What that the one that looked like -- Wander was in the corridor, with a young man it took Tona a minute to recognize. He was tall, wearing black, and had black glass over his eyes. Tona felt her heart begin hammering and a wave of excitement wash away her fatigue when she realized that she in the presence of two of the Slayers of Omega. And this time he would recognize her and they could talk -- if she didn't wimp out like last time and leave without saying anything. She schooled herself mentally, took a deep breath, and nodded coolly to the two heroes.
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Blue Jay shook her head, bewildered at the sad, angry man in the bed speaking French. "<I never heard of St. Jude,>" she said, "<but I've never met a god I put trust in. Especially not one made of metal. If you're going to cry over the Curator, you deserve to be in here.>" She took a step towards the door, and paused. "<I don't do spells or curses,>" she said. "<I do arrows. If you hurt my friends, you will learn exactly how well I do them.>" She walked out of the room, rubbing at her eyes. None of this made sense, and the late night was beginning to creep back up on her. "Dr. Cleary," she said to the psychiatrist outside the room, "how long has Accolon been here? And why was he locked up, exactly?"
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Blue Jay's Reflex save, vs DC 27. (1d20+12=19) Blue Jay's Toughness savs, vs DC 24. (1d20+9=19)
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Blue Jay blinked and put her head to one side, trying to figure this out. The madwoman, the circus freak, and the golem? One of which was in this building. Jay was fairly certain that no one from Claremont was at Project Freedom or a sanitarium. But Callie Summers had said that Wander had a double here. Thinking about Wander lead her to thoughts on the Curator's world. Harrier could be the golem, and Bee-Keeper's costume was colorful enough. The only thing she couldn't figure out was why Accolon would care. "<I don't kill,>" Blue Jay said. She didn't add on this world. "<What exactly did we take away from you, though? That world was horrible.>"
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Waffle, does the guy still have the destruction glow around himself?
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Blue Jay took cover behind a bare tree, but that gave no protection to Gold's cataclysmic outburst. Light and force streamed forth, and there was nowhere for the archer to hide; she felt herself being lifted in the air and she gave a sort scream as she was thrown back to the ground, then up and then down again. She tried to curl herself in a ball and was only partially successful. She squeezed her eyes shut against the glare as points of impact spread and melted in a single all-body bruise, and prayed that she wasn't about to be tossed off a cliff.