Raveled

Time for the Lightbringer to, well, bring the Light. Using Environmental Control to counter that Obscure. Starlight's power check. (1d20+7=25)

Ironclad >Shadows of History >Independant Threats >No Tern Unstoned Starlight >Overthrow of the Sea! Blue Jay >Field Trip: Chicago >Forest of the Dead >Friends or Family GM >Homecoming >Next of Kin >Independant Threats

~~Crraaaaaaaaawling in my skiiiiiiiiiiiiin...~~

Jessica shrugged. "I could probably have a PhD in something," she said offhandedly, "but school takes up too much time. I'd rather be working, you know? "Anyway, I'm not really plugged into the biochem parts of the Lab as much as I should. I think the big project at the moment is using nanites for body-mapping purposes -- sort of an all-in-one x-ray, CT scan, and fMRI. Inject them, let them circulate, and they build a 3D map of the body and how it's functioning. It's interesting, but of course the problem is always in making enough nanobots cheaply enough, and making sure that when they break down there's nothing harmf--" She broke off abruptly as a gunshot rang over the plaza. "Was that a... excuse me for a moment, Dr. Steel." Jessica touched her titanium watch and towards the sound of gunfire.

GM "Luck, indeed," Melissa said, laughing as she turned away to face the camera. "Well, we'll be back in a few minutes to bring you the start of the race. In the meantime, back to the studio." Robert MacKay was still early in his career, and being in the crowds was raising his blood pressure. He slipped past groups, keeping an eye on anyone and everyone, watching for any person leaving a bag behind or staring too intently at a cellphone. He suddenly felt something tugging at his belt, and dropped a hand to his holstered weapon. It was still there of course, safety strap still buttoned. He patted it and turned to track a young man who was jogging around the exterior of the plaza -- The smell of cordite registered before the gunshot did. His adrenaline spiked as he unsnapped his weapon and looked around for the attacker. It had been close, MacKay's ears were still ringing. And in fact, his leg and foot felt hot and wet. He glanced down, at the ripped trousers stained with blood, and in a woozy moment realized that he had been the one who had shot, and had been shot.

Jessica blushed and stammered at Cassandra's Missus. "Well -- I mean -- You're welcome. It's nice to see people other than the normal group benefiting from the Lab. That's part of why it was founded, so that scientists and engineers would have a place to meet and converse without worrying about overheads and deadlines. But..." She blushed deeper. "You don't have to call me 'missus.' I know I just turned twenty, but I'm not married or anything! Call me Ms. Parker, or heck just call me Jessica."

GM "You shameless flirt," Melissa said, smiling. "So you mean this is just a normal day out for you? A bagel, some orange juice and coffee, and a twenty-mile run to start the day? That's a heck of a training regimen, Mr. O'Conner. I wonder if you have any words for your fellow runners?" She smiled and held out the microphone, as the cameras kept rolling.

The long-awaited dice rolling thread for >this story!

Aita chuckled dryly and ran hand through his hair. “I don’t know about you, Baron,†he said, “but I intend to supervise from the shade. Heat in this region is not something to play around with.†For her part, Jessica didn’t seem to notice the heat as she walked out onto the tarmac. She slipped on a pair of what looked like sports glasses, all wrap-around plastic and sleek, aerodynamic curves. She held her smartphone horizontally, tapping and wiping through levels of apps and data as the Hercules’ rear hatch lowered. The interior was filled with plastic and metal rectangles, looking like nothing so much as colorfully-painted trash bins all lined up in a row. Then she poked an icon and they unfolded like mechanical flowers, limbs and heads extending and flexing until a dozen blocky, man-shaped robots stood in the rear of the cargo bay. Jessica grinned, a fierce expression of pride at the display. More than two days since she’d loaded them in the back of this plane, and they were still functioning as well as they had in the lab. Their first field test, it seemed, was off to a rousing start. Another icon pressed and the robots began marching down the ramp in lockstep, their feet raising a clamor on the noisy metal bed of the transport. Jessica walked backwards, leading them into the hanger bay, a finger always on the screen and an expression of pride on her face.

Blue Jay reacted first. She brought her bow up and unloaded on the monstrosity across from her, the air suddenly full of flying shafts of wood. They hit the drone squarely, but most simply shattered or bounced off. It looked up at her, organic eye full of anger. "You stupid girl," it spat. "You can't even imagine the situation you're in!" It crossed the distance between them in a single leap, a metal fist bearing down on Tona's skull. With her leg good as new, however, it was simplicity itself for her to spring out of the way. "Maybe not," she taunted back, "but at least I can hit you. Let's see you do the same to me!"

Blue Jay Jay's Ini (1d20+15=29) Drone's Ini (1d20+2=9) Oh yeah, Jay's going first. Blue Jay's ranged attack w/ +5 Power Attack, vs Drone's flat-footed Def. (1d20+10=21) Flat-footed, the Drone's Def is +2. That mean Jay gets full Autofire bonus, so Toughness DC 30. And flat-footed, the Drone's Toughness is +10. Drone's Toughness save, vs DC 30. (1d20+10=29) Oh f--- you, IC. Okay, the Drone will close the distance and smack 'er. Drone's melee attack vs Jay's Def. DC 23 Tou (1d20+8=19) Nope!

El Heraldo I need another DC 20 Will save for EH, vs Mind Control.

The robed man picked his way through the planted fields. "We own three-quarters of the world," he said smoothly. "These few dry islands would be just a small addition." He stood before El Heraldo, standing and speaking calmly. "Not like you surfacers have done much with these islands. Slavery, overplanting, brutal revolution, threatening atomic war over the placement of a few missiles." He cocked his head. "All we plan to do is put things the way they were. Atlantean settlements, paying loyalty and fealty to the oldest human culture of all. "In the meantime," he added, his voice suddenly pitching lower, "I think you should drop that banner before you hurt anyone else, alright?"

Jessica Parker hummed to herself off-key, her mind already far past the idea of super-speed power armor and wondering what sort of topological effects she could create with captured singularities. If I could bend an object across the fifth dimension and fold it back into itself, it would appear to be two-dimensional and could be hidden inside a wall. If it's also folded across the seventh, even that two-dimensionality would disappear... I would if that's how Mara does her thing? She began to walk around the plaza to get warmed up for the marathon, when she saw a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and turned to the athletic woman. "Excuse me," she said. "Are you Dr. Cassandra Steel? The same Dr. Steel that spoke at the bio-enhancement seminar the Lab hosted last year?"

GM Melissa Zhong's circulation around the crowd had brought her out the news vans again. The live feed had ended and she was sipping on fast-food coffee, eyes hunting the runners for an interesting interview subject. With luck, this could be aired before the commercial break, or even on the evening show. But to do that, she'd need to find someone the audiences at home would recognize... And there he was. She swallowed hurriedly and snapped her fingers, bringing her cameraman to his feet as she plunged back into the crowd. "Jack O'Conner!" She inserted herself in the businessman's path. "I hadn't heard that you were running today. Are you part of a group from Freedom Consolidated?"

The drone squeezed mercilessly, and tossed Tona aside. "It can," the monster with her father's face hissed. "It happened because you weren't good enough. You're a failure, little girl!" Tona struggled to her feet, swaying slightly. "Maybe. But I know one thing -- drones don't taunt. They came after you, and they kill you, but they don't talk to you and toy with you. Whatever you are you aren't a drone!" The monster paused, and silence filled the forest for a moment. "And maybe that means... this isn't the Terminus." She closed her eyes and pictured herself in a Claremont jacket, compound bow in hand and mask in place. She opened them and looked down at herself, seeing the familiar blue-and-gold of her jacket and the matte black carbon-carbon weave of her bow. She was still wearing leather breeches, though, and she was only holding a few wooden arrows, but she could feel the tension in the glade changing. She didn't feel desperate and hunted anymore. She was about ready to turn the tables.

The thread for rolls related to >this thread.

Jessica Parker was in a haze as she prepared for the race. Like almost everything else in her life, she was relying on technology for that. She had just finished rigging up a system to measure her glucose levels via sweat – a nifty idea the Lab was working on for active diabetics, adapted here to general sports equipment – and was checking her pedometer/blood-pressure monitor when she heard someone call her name. She looked up and her eyes widened in a fear reaction as the beaming reporter and the pitiless eye of the camera zeroed in on her. “Oh. Um. No, no I’m just running by myself. Well, walking is more like it. This is a full marathon, and forty-two kilometers is a long way to run.†The reporter was used to dealing with people who were less than eloquent under the camera’s gaze, and she attempted to steer the conversation in a direction that the young genius would find more comfortable. “I suppose the race would be easier if you were running it in a super-suit, huhn?†Jessica, however, seemed immune to any attempt to make her appear graceful under the public eye. “The Ironclad armor? I wouldn’t run a race in that, it flies. Flight’s much easier than running – although I think you could do it. Hm.†Her brain started picking away at the problem, as her eyes unfocused. “Simplest way would be to attach a wheel structure, but that’s cheating. Human joints can only take so much movement per, so the easy way would be to enhance strength and leap with every step – but that’s jumping, not running. But if you harnessed a baby black hole and projected the event hori—“ “Well that’s very interesting,†Melissa interrupted, gamely heading off the flow of techno-babble before the station lost viewers. “We’ll just leave you to your preparations, shall we?†Without waiting for a response the reporter and cameraman dove into the crowd again, putting distance between themselves and Jessica.

GM July 6th, 2013 Pyramid Plaza, Freedom City 7:42 AM Pyramid Plaza was crowded with runners, volunteers, and on-lookers as the last touches were put on the day’s big event. The red-white-and-blue arch straddling Wading Way was already up, with gold and blue balloons tethered to it and ready to fly off. Volunteers were standing behind folding tables, signing in the last few attendees, while other runners stood in close knots or began stretching in preparation of the day’s activities. Off to one side, a line of news vans were lined up, and several reporters were shooting second or third takes for the morning news. One reporter, however, was preparing for a live broadcast. Melissa Zhong checked her appearance in a hand mirror one last time, made sure her audio lead was invisible and her microphone was working, and took her position in front of the camera. “Ten second, ‘Liz,†the cameraman said. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…†On cue the light went on and the reporter’s face broke into a pleasant, sunny smile. “Good morning, Freedom City,†she said. “This is Melissa Zhong, with Channel Four news in the morning, reporting live from Pyramid Plaza!†She walked and the cameraman rotated, swinging the view from the Channel Four van to the base triple towers, an icon of the city’s skyline. Right now though the view was crowded with people, and Melissa indicated the crowds with a sweep of her arm. “Hundreds have come out for today’s run, the 41st Annual Independence Day Charity Marathon. Almost every corporation in the city, from Dawes Tech to Martel Industries to Majestic Industries, has sponsored at least one group running here today.†The reporter plunged into the crowd and the cameraman followed. They quickly zeroed in on one young red-blonde woman, as she stretched and checked a device hanging from her neck. “Speaking of which, here’s Jessica Parker herself! Ms. Parker, who are you running for today?â€

Last time Willow was PL X. ;)

With Freedom Eagle II approvr,I think the team will be Ironclad, FE, and Maxima.

Tona's hesitation gave the drone the opening it needed to strike. It hit her square in the jaw, launching the girl off itself and sending her rolling. She came up with a nasty cut over her eye, and blinked away blood as the drone lurched to its feet and closed on her. The slim body, the knotted muscles, the ears sticking out of that sharp face... It was unmistakably her father, though adulterated by the Steam General's mechanistic touch. She had always known that a fate like this awaited most Resistance fighters, but somehow she had never quite thought that her father of all people would fall victim to it! She backed away, unable and unwilling to fight the thing that had been her parent, almost physically sick just watching it. "You... how. How! You were always so careful, how did they get you?" "Because you were gone." The drone didn't speak, so much as its jaw flopped open and a grating, electronic voice issued forth from its gullet. "I had nothing to care for. Nothing to return to. I fought until I was overcome... and became this." Tona continued to back away from her drone-father, but she soon came up against a tree trunk and was trapped. The drone reached out and grabbed her by the neck, lifting her and squeezing. "I... this can't be happening. This can't be you!" she protested, scrabbling at the iron-clad fingers with her good hand.

Schooner vanishes in South Pacific. Quite aside from the idea of being on a three hour tour that takes three years to get back to shore, this seems like an interesting situation for a PC to be in. The environment is small enough that you can't run off and change into your costume whenever there's a problem to solve, but the group is big enough for interpersonal conflict to arise.

FLAux, get thee to this thread!

Well Ironclad's PL 12 herself, so if she shows up it'll skew higher, anyway. And I can always throw more not-Nazis at you!