Fox
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Welp, probably no point in Dragonfly using Master Plan as well, especially since she isn't playing coordinator here! Initiative Roll (Speed of Thought) (1d20 + 7=8) ....ouch. Well, at least they (probably) don't know she's nearby....
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Dragonfly had no particular compulsion to be or act sympathetic; ire practically rolled off of her in waves as they made their way out the front door, and it continued to do so unabated when she spun on her heel, crossed her arms, and started sending her signal out. One finger tapped the seconds out on her arm: eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourt-- A wash of static prompted a mental note to recalibrate her suit's clock. Only then did she take and release a big breath, apparently finding some release in the rumbling explosion that came from destroying a terrible place. "You are reckless and dangerous," she said, turning her head to look at the Baron. There was less venom in her voice than could have been expected, and mostly she just seemed...tired. "Body augmentation is dangerous enough. Have seen three brain augmentations, two self-inflicted, and all three ended badly. It is bad science, especially with poor controls - and you do not count as control if it is your own brain," she preemptively countered, with an accompanying frustrated gesture. "We cannot take these kinds of chances. Not by choice. Too good at what we do - too much high science, too many unexplained forces and singularity technology and corrupting influences. Have to be better than...than this," the heroine insisted, motioning vaguely at the imploding mountain. "You have to be better than this." Her wings twisted into existence, floating behind her like four neon blue blades of twisted space as she took off. "We all do."
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"Nanotechnology is powerful, but dangerous, and aggressive nanotechnology rarely ends well," Wraith darkly observed. She didn't have her best friend's unique untouchable nature, and what she did have was a few years of pre-immigration history lessons that she wished she'd paid better attention to. "I will help in this. It...the word is 'abhorent', I think? An abomination. It will be a danger to anything it touches if it is allowed to continue. Ah, more so than normal. I will gladly help to put it to an end."
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Tiamat laughed, a full-body rumble of amusement as she leaned down to grin right in front of the Impundulu's face: a predatory, cheshire smile full of entirely too many carnivore teeth. "Oh, little bird. You are so much more fortunate than you know; In another time and another place, you would be lunch. Here and now, you are simply not worth the trouble...this time. Ponder that deeply the next time you are in my. city." She grasped both his wings in her great taloned claws, digging in near his shoulders to lift him up off the ground before slamming him right back into the pavement with a dragon's own strength. When she turned back to the others it with was with a hiss of challenge and triumph, casting her red eyes up at the Hekatonkheires - while, somehow, still managing to look down on him as only gods and dragons can. "So much for even numbers," she pointed out, flicking her tail toward the broken ground that cradled the unconscious thunderbird. "Your friends did not hold up so well. I do hope you'll be more fun."
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Dragonfly's armor almost sounded relieved to spin down out of combat mode; as the blue and humming quieted somewhat it looked and sounded nearly new again, minus a cracked piece and a tiny wisp of acrid smoke coming out of one shoulder. She paused for a moment to glance over the room, mind reflexively putting together half a dozen rough designs for lethal, complex-leveling devices before she caught herself and shut that down, too. Her day didn't really need to get any worse. "Will take those codes when you're ready," she said, catching up with Miss Americana. "Or if you aren't ready. Either way this complex is coming down as soon as we are out of it. Would prefer to take a little time to atomize things, but will settle for something with a lot of fire, electromagnetism, and a satisfying boom."
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Full round: Coup de grace the Impundulu (non-lethal). She'll power attack for +5; auto-hit, auto-crit, so DC40 (base 30, +5 crit, +5 power attack) Toughness, and a DC35 Fort to not be KO'd outright.
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Wraith kept her face in calm, relaxed tourist mode only through great practice and willpower. Unless there was some greater tactical purpose to it, she was not terribly fond of sticking to level earth or going around nearly anything; she'd spent her whole life climbing vertical walls and overhangs with ease a spider would envy, and to be restricted to the horizontal was always...chafing. Still, it isn't like life in human society hadn't required enough of that. Her hopes of cutting loose notwithstanding, this was nothing new. "It seems a reasonable plan," she agreed. "Especially when staying in a single group, it may be best to be efficient; we would not wish to rush through the sights, but it would be less fun to waste time backtracking."
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"Contact here," Dragonfly sent back over radio, lights dancing behind her eyes as she watched through the building's security. No sense tipping her hand until she was ready to fight the...whatever they were. "Multiple targets, eleventh floor - 1430 Schuster. Don't know I'm watching yet. Not...sure what they are, actually. Poor visibility. Metal, oddly-shaped...." She cocked her head to the side, frowning. "No shortage is correct - seems like, anyway. Don't like implications of this level of simultaneous activity. Was hoping culprit or culprits would be more limited."
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Dragonfly made a soft hissing noise as the room dimmed and her suit attempted to compensate with thermal imaging - 'attempted' being the operative word. She quickly disabled that unpleasant reminder of her suit's slowly cascading failure, and unceremoniously ejected what looked like a broken vacuum tube from her unlit gauntlet. There was a soft hum as the arm powered back up, just in time to deliver another - apparently failed - spatial assault on the would-be world uplifter. The sputtering hum of her suit reporting assorted failing minor systems was rapidly drowned out by her swearing.
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Dragonfly spends 1HP to waive her Exhausted status, but that still leaves her with device fatigue, -2pp on all her effects. Basically a 1pp drop to Damage, Defense, and Toughness, boo. That takes her down to 2HP, I think. Well, she can't really stunt anything new and useful with that, at least nothing that'll last. May as well keep failing at Drain Toughness for a round while she catches her breath. Melee Attack Roll vs. Kurator (drain tou; Master Plan +2) (1d20 + 11 + 2=21) Swing and a miss, I think?
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"I do not believe I have sufficient knowledge of the English language to give myself such a name," Wraith admitted, casting her three-eyed gaze around the cell as much as the person in it - frightened darkness-wielding villain-types were apparently no more or less interesting than the wonderful technology or magic that had to have gone into the construction of such a room. "Wraith the Wrathful, perhaps, but I do not believe it fits. I have a growing reputation for several things, but not, I think, for wrath." She shook her head, turning her attention back on the prisoner. "You will have to explain why you are here before we can decide whether to help you, though that decision is not truly up to us."
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Gaian Knight/Tiamat >Getting Your Shots In (2) >Molehills (1) 2+1= 3 posts Dragonfly >By All His Engines (3) ?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>The Family You Choose (2) >Stirring Up a Metallic Nest (4) 3+2+4= 9 posts Wraith >Aqua Regia (2) >Necklace of Ropes (2) >Night Rings (3) 2+2+3= 7 posts GM/NPC ?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>The Family You Choose (1) 1/2 = 0 posts
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Tiamat outright laughed, a low rumble of good humor shaking her spines....or maybe it was bad humor, really, depending on your point of view. She'd been in enough scraps, and had been on the aggressive end of such attacks, often enough to know the difference between a punch meant to throw her off-balance and a punch meant to knock her to the ground. She ducked and twisted with surprising agility as the fists came down, deliberately placing the Impundulu between her and the meaty hands whenever possible to keep both assailants off-balance. As soon as there was a break in the assault she twisted out from under his futile feathery flapping, though, deftly snagging him with one scaled hand and none-too-gently yanking him down and into the pavement. "Little bird," she intoned, reproachful, casting an eye on the rest of the fight before sliding her gaze down to him. The talons of her other foreleg scraped against the pavement, ever so close to his head where he lay pinned on his back. "Naive little bird. What shall we do with you, I wonder?"
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Unexpected! Grapple Check vs. Impundulu (grapple) (1d20 + 40=47) Not...a great roll, but her bonus should do wonders.
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Tiamat shifts her array from fire breath to super-strength. Move Action: Fast Task (Startle) vs. Impundulu Intimidate Check vs. Impundulu (Startle; fast task) (1d20 + 22=28) Bleh. Standard Action: Grapple Impundulu right back. Melee Attack Roll vs. Impundulu (grapple; All-Out Attack +2/-2) (1d20 + 7 + 2=12) .....aw, c'mon, Invisible Castle. That's no fun. A little too early to be Fatigued, I guess. Boo on no HP. Tiamat's at -2 defense.
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Opposed Grapple Check vs. Impundulu (1d20 + 30=43) Nnnnnnope. Intimidate Check vs. Hekatonkheires (resist Startle) (1d20 + 22=37) Nnnnnnnnnnnope.
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Teagan hopped backward to avoid the lightning, laughing all the way. "Blood so hot? So hot? Oh, little bird. Naive little bird." Something flashed deep in the woman's ruby-red eyes and she burst into flames. "Hot wishes it was my blood," she announced, voice deepening and rumbling as the storm twisted and grew, dissipating only when it was large enough to reveal the great wyrm in all her scaled crimson-and-charcoal glory. She craned her neck, clawing at the ground with one set of giant talons. "'Hot' is a faint mortal echo of what runs through my veins. I am fire!" Her last word was accompanied by a torrent of the same, a jet of blistering plasma shooting out from her mighty jaws...not at the thunderbird, but at the ghoul, Tiamat snapping her head to the side to catch the thing off-guard and keep it on the defensive.
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Move action: Dragon form! Serious business time is serious. Standard action: Startle vs. Harionago Intimidate Check vs. Harionago (Startle) (1d20 + 22=37) Tiamat uses Set-Up to pass the result of the Startle on to Sekhmet.
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Mental quickness is a wonderful thing; Dragonfly'll take 20 for a 'roll' of 25 (or an auto-15 with skill mastery if something's being jumped on her and she doesn't have the liberty of any kind of active check). By the same token, Computers 37/27 if it comes up.
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Dragonfly was still for a moment, watching Pitch stroll off with her...scouts?...before turning her head back to look at what had been dropped in Nick's hands. "....horrifying," she keenly - and dryly - observed, and one could almost hear the raised eyebrow in her voice as her blade-like wings flared back to life. The armored heroine rose off the ground for a couple feet, though she paused in mid-air long enough to glance back at Nick. "Will survey nearby buildings for surveillance. Number is already on your phone," she added, and indeed it was - she never did get tired of that trick. "Will let you know if I find out anything interesting. You...may have to relay it to others. And the rat." Wings humming, she took off toward the nearest building that had seemed likely to have useful security.
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"Nothing available for wide survey at the moment," Dragonfly admitted, shaking her head. "Working on it, actually, but won't be ready for a long time. Could sift through surveillance very quickly, but would need access to - or proximity too, mmh - digital records. Otherwise...." She spread her hands helplessly, glancing at the nearby buildings. "Not much of an investigative expert, for magic things. Not really my area. Not enough wires and steel. If it isn't arms dealers or obvious high technology, don't have much of an advantage over anyone else in sleuthing."
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"I prefer not to gamble," Indira admitted, though there was no reproach to be found in her smile. "There is perhaps a thrill in...what is the word, 'uncertainty'?...but not in unnecessary risk. Act after observing, not before, if it can be helped. So long as you do not get carried away, anyway. I...confess that I sometimes get carried away." "Agreed," the young woman chimed in, nodding. "We were fortunate to even run into each other; if something were to happen to anybody here while they were alone - or in too small a group - it is unlikely that help would arrive in good time. It may slow down our exploration of the castle, but it cannot hurt to stay where we can keep an eye on each other."
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"She is correct." Wraith remained on all four legs after skidding to a halt, though her tail had disappeared - she'd apparently reclaimed the mass to form two long, club-tipped tendrils that extended out of her back. They waved and twitched in the air above her like they had their own - not entirely benign - mind. "This place is lost to you - you cannot change that now. Your best option is to minimize loss, including the loss of his life. It is better for you to admit defeat than suffer his death, and better for you," she added, turning a cautious but stern look toward the Meta-Grue, "to wait for your vengeance. It would have no satisfaction here, like this. There is no pride to be had in hunting the weak and helpless."
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"If they are going then I shall go too," Wraith hummed. She'd straightened out a bit when it became clear that 'Mr. Scarred' didn't pose any immediate threat - she was still ever the faceless quicksilver entity she'd always been, but was a bit less dangerous-looking and more conventionally humanoid. "Though I believe I would have done so anyway," she added, giving their guest a respectful nod. "Even if Ghost Girl and the Fleet-Footed -" - she appeared to use the name with due respect and not so much as a trace of teasing - "- were not here, I helped your people once and am please to do it again."
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"No longer inclined to care what he wants," came Dragonfly's growling, filtered voice - from behind the Curator. Space unfolded to reveal her five or ten feet away from their once-comrade, both hands held toward him and humming. "Not a priority anymore. Has to end here." Twisted space rolled off her gauntlets in waves, flowing through the air toward the Curator like some kind of reality-twisting gas. Whatever its intended impact was, though, it didn't appear to do much - ate away at his surface, maybe, but not enough to have any lasting impact. It also didn't appear to be a very healthy use of her suit. She took a calculated risk and tried to pour a bit more energy into the effect, and was rewarded with a sharp CRACK as the glass on one of her gauntlets split apart; the entire arm went dark as bits of newly-revealed machinery could be seen clicking and shifting in an attempt to bypass the damage. In the meantime, both Miss Americana and Harrier got a high-density information feed - though it likely meant less to the latter while he was unconscious - that manifested as a detailed heads-up display of the combatants in the area and the observed properties of...well, most things present, with a startling level of detail borne of her uniquely multi-tasking attention span. Dragonfly might not be in top form combat-wise, and she couldn't keep it up forever, but she was apparently a long way from being completely out of this fight.
