Fox
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Toughness Save vs. Thug 3, DC20: 1d20+6 11 The dice giveth, and the dice taketh away. Fortunately, I appear to have wasted invested a number of ranks into Luck. Toughness Save REROLL vs. Thug 3, DC20: 1d20+6 7 ....okay. Sure, we'll roll a 1. +10 for the bare minimums on rerolls, and that's a 17 - fail by 3.
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Alice was back. Where had she been? Only Alice could say - but while the thugs were looking at Anna Alice reappeared at the employee hallway, almost unnoticeable until she was scant inches from the lead thug's back. There was a quiet sshhhk as she flicked half of her collapsible staff out into an improvised baton, and that was all the warning he got. With almost military precision Alice's fingers were under the trigger, and Alice's weapon came down on the tendons of the man's wrist, and then, like magic, he didn't have a gun anymore. Alice had a gun, though. She eyed it with disdain, inspecting it like it was poisonous. "This is a terrible gun. I mean, all guns are terrible, they kill people. But this is a terrible gun," she said, and then gestured at Sofia with her half-collapsed staff. Hopefully no one would ask her why she had a matte metal stick. "You don't want her to drive anyway, Ace-holes. She's little, she won't reach the pedals."
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Well! Alice is sneaky and she's going before them in round 1 anyway, so they should be flat-footed, which is her favorite thing. She'll ambush the guy with a gun to Sofia's head while he's busy looking at Boxing Anna. Melee Attack Roll vs. Thug (Power Attack -5/+5): 1d20+12-5 27 .....okay. Well! I'll...just....take that +5 for the crit, I guess. With her weapon (I love you, PF: Subtle), sneak attack, and power attack, that'd be DC25 on damage, DC30 with the crit. If the guy's not a minion, though, I'd rather do a Disarm with the +15 opposed roll against his Strength check.
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Dragonfly hnned, barely audible behind her helmet, eyeing the remains and almost wishing they'd sent a better probe so that they could get a better view and assessment. Almost. Easier to cut this one off, she told herself. Less dangerous if it's corrupted and the enemy learns the terrible secret of off-brand low-bidder webcams. "Unsure if unfinished state is in our favor," she said, turning her attention to The Keyboard That Time Forgot, clacking away at a few quick instructions. "Good for technological issues, less likely to be set up. Bad for magic ones. Unrestful spirits, etc. Assuming this is one of the most important things in tomb, though - if foes made it here, they did well. How well...guess we find out?" She frowned, glaring at the screen again for answers before giving up and hitting [enter]. "Time to see if we're as smart as we think we are."
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Alice: Initiative Roll: 1d20+14 25
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"I mean, I guess," said Alice, pulling off her liberated cleaning clothes - she'd apparently opted to keep her own clothing underneath - and absently throwing the stolen articles onto Lou's head. "Had to use a backup plan, got seen - briefly, in disguise - and you had to get in a fight, sounds like. That's not ideal. Ideal for a job is always you get in, you get out, nobody knows 'til way later. Maybe you do a different kinda jobs than me, I guess." "Still. Coulda gone worse? Backup plan was pretty good, nobody's really badly hurt, nobody got caught, don't think we left anything bad behind, and we got the thing." She paused halfway through unwinding some kind of binding from around her wrists; it had previously gone clear down to her hands, helping to pin her sweatshirt to her arms, but she'd only had time to half-undo it so it could be hidden beneath her custodial uniform. "We did get the thing, right? Nobody dropped it? I'm not goin' back in there for a long time, their security's gonna be pretty pissed."
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Alice was gone. Alice had been right there, just in front of Sofia, eyeing the menu like any average, tiny fast foot customer, and then the guys with guns had shown up, and then she was gone. Not leaving, not moving, not hiding, but suddenly just...absent. On the bright side, she thought, back flattened against the partial wall that separated the dining and cashier area from the path to the kitchens, shouting gang members with guns made for one hell of a distraction. Everyone's eyes being on the same spot meant that there was a lot of overlap in blind spots, and that made disappearing real, real easy. On the less bright side, she couldn't confidently bring Sofia with her, and she'd have found her overall dining experience a lot happier without gun-wielding boy-men at all. But, sure, this was fine. She'd keep an eye on things or sneak away if someone made their way back toward her, maybe if the gang members made their way back one by one she could get the drop on them one by one, and then she totally wouldn't have to watch one of her only sorta-friends get shot and bleed to death and she really needed a new plan.
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"No, it's fine," Alice insisted, proceeding Sofia through the doorway. She was dressed casually, thin jeans and sensible running shoes. She seemed to have an extensive collection of hooded sweatshirts, really, each and every one of them completely unadorned - she made up for this with a set of t-shirts one could only describe as "eclectic", today's choice of some faded and obnoxious cartoon character peeking out from behind her half-zipped hoodie. "Steady work, fine, whatever. But it's not like we were expressly told we couldn't do whatever extra." She held her hands out in front of her body, as if grasping something precious and shiny. "Haven't you ever wanted to just...climb a building, and see what's up there? And then maybe someone finds out it isn't there anymore, but that's not your problem."
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"Yep," Alice replied with precisely zero discernible irony, taking a scant few seconds to eye Lou's new hiding spot with critical thought before shoving the remaining clothes and uniforms over and around him. The action was more functional than considerate, but it apparently came with some level of experience: by the time she was done, he'd have to move or pull the cover off to reveal that the cart contained a person, and not a pile of wage slave vestments. "Time to get paid." By virtue of well-oiled wheels or being far stronger than her slight form would imply, it took an entirely negligible amount of time to shove the cart back into the elevator and begin their ascent. "Maybe you talk, if we've gotta or the Brain asks questions," she said, tilting her head - face still well-obscured by her cap - toward Sofia. "My Spanish is okay but no one's gonna take it from a little Asian girl, and my Japanese is real, real bad, and I'm not always so great at not mouthing off. If you can't pull the accent, though, lemme know."
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Alice handed (threw) an appropriately-sized uniform to (at) Sofia as she arrived, pulling open the cover to reveal an industrial-sized laundry trolley that was only mostly empty; a few of the unusable uniforms she left in the bottom, and the rest of her small collection got pulled out to rest on the hamper's edge, apparently for use in later disguising Lou's human-in-a-bag profile. She'd already donned a uniform of her own, complete with a matching cap that she'd...acquired, somehow, the bill pulled down to cover her face. The look she shot Lou as she arranged things said that she'd probably heard of sympathy, once. "Get in the hamper." Maybe she'd read about it once in a book. "I am not joining you in a cell twice because you don't want a stiff neck or a cramped leg or whatever you babies think happens in small spaces," she hissed, looking up at him from under her hat and trying very hard to be intimidating. It sort of worked? "I just pulled myself by my fingertips through like a mile of tiny vents to put a delay on an alarm that's still going to go off, so get in the hamper and be all quiet-like and maybe I still get paid."
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"Probably. Maybe? Never dealt with them," Dragonfly admitted, frowning at the footage. It was true: she found magic fairly frustrating. Adamantly refusing to believe in magic was bad science, as far as she was concerned - it was an observable phenomenon outside the bounds of science as she understood it, and she understood a lot of science - but she'd never been able to get a solid grasp on the metaphysical rules magic supposedly obeyed past some extremely limited conservation of energy stuff, and she didn't like not knowing how things worked. A decent part of her brain was constantly dissecting how things worked, really, pulling apart and examining almost every non-biological thing around her. Looking at magic left that part of her brain grasping at open air. It was just...uncomfortable. "Not entirely bad signs," she mused, gesturing with one finger at some of the cratering. "Obvious implications of battle. What's the phrase....'enemy of my enemy is my friend'? Not true, tactically unsound. But better Lemurians wiping out Mandragora's stuff than other way around. Harder for us, though. Have to watch out for two kinds of hazards. Magical equivalent of unspent ammunition, untriggered land mines?"
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I'm good with Dragonfly in thread 3. Sounds fun!
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"Well." Dragonfly's armor could just barely be seen to power down before it started to fold away, lights dimming and plates lifting a half-inch even as reality wrapped in around them to pull them into the elsewhere she maintained through her science. Mara was tired, the weight of the situation pressing on top of travel pressing on top of already-poor sleep habits, but she managed to pull one corner of her mouth up into a wry smile anyway. "Will have to make sure he learns how to fear us, then." She managed to hold that corner of her mouth for just a few more seconds before it slipped, settling instead for pulling Ellie into a half a hug, standing at her side to look around their...accommodations. "Going to be okay," she said, "probably just normal bones. Worst case, kick its butt, get a little hurt, go home, sleep, take Yoyo out for a vacation. Just the three of us."
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Alice had made record time through the vents, though - as much as she'd like to take pride in her vent-crawling skills - at least part of that was due to a somewhat undignified and barely-controlled slip down a floor of vent shafts. She scolded herself for letting the rush make her sloppy, gently removing the cover to the closet vent access and sliding out head-first. "I don't pay good attention sometimes," she admitted with entirely less shame than she ought to have, pulling her feet free and working the crick out of her neck as she hid the signs of her ingress. "But, um. Advice? Maybe don't announce you have a weapon. It makes the big mean dudes want to punch YOU, and makes it harder to stick 'em with the weapon. Tasers and mace are pretty great if no one else knows you have 'em." The young thief looked around, taking stock of her...resources. Housekeeping. Right, okay. "Pretty sure I know what the housekeeping scam is, though. I'll get stuff ready on my end."
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APPROVED!
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Gaian Knight shrugged, allowing the inspection of his hand as casually as one could, raising the other to move his mini-Earth out of the way. It quickly dissolved back into a small sphere of loose stones, the gemstone somewhere down in the center. "We don't, as far as I know," he admitted. "Some humans come up with some very interesting technologies, and a few have made machines that can do crude manipulation - mostly seismic technology, vibrations, magnetics - but everything I've ever seen with any kind of fine control was also not really limited by medium, and anything that worked at any kind of large or permanent scale was always too big to easily carry around and use. My magic may be limited to stone and dirt, but it's more than enough for me." -- Tiamat snorted, not moving so much as one claw out of place. "You genuinely cannot," she said, "or, as it were, will not. The mistake is understandable, as I was perhaps not fully clear: I am not disappointed because I do not speak your tongue, I am disappointed because I do not know which tongue you speak." There was pride in her voice, but genuine curiosity, too, a puzzle to be solved. A mind to play with. "Is it your own, unknown language? <Or Lor, maybe, so eloquently full of itself?> <Grue, shifting and tasteless?> <I don't even know the name of this one; its speaker's ship crashed to the Earth and fell unconscious before we spoke much. A pity.>"
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The little man froze up like he'd had the life cut out of him (which, really, wasn't far off from the truth), staring blankly for a moment before doubling over with his hands on his face as he tried to rattle out...something. The noise had probably started as words. Hurt and distracted as he was, he never saw Wraith coming. She dropped out of the sky like a bolt from an alien god, slamming over-sized clawed feet into his body and using his rapidly-crumpling form to push herself back several feet to regard what was left of the would-be thieves. They looked at their boss's body, skidding a couple of feet and not getting up, and they looked back at the heroic, monstrous pair. One by one, two-thirds of the group dropped their psychic fields, carefully removing their harnesses with the practiced, hands-always-visible caution one might associate with people who'd been arrested a lot. The other two flickered, but snarled, pounding their fists together. The noise bounced around the empty lobby, distorting the distant sound of a car driving by outside. "Cowards," one of them growled, taking a menacing step forward. "We finish it, we get him out, we still get paid. I ain't goin' back to bein' nothing."
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Alright; way too long on this. My apologies! Wraith'll go ahead and Charge the angry little man: Melee Attack Roll vs. angry little man (Charge +2): 1d20+12+2 19 Ooh, barely. Fun fact: with his toys, the little guy's PL12ish, with a Toughness trade-off. Without it? A flat PL9ish with nasty psychic tricks. Which he may not get a chance to use, at this rate! Toughness Save vs. Wraith, DC27 (Shaken -2, Bruised -1): 1d20+9-3 12 Okay. In the interests of brevity, Wraith'll go ahead and Surge an extra standard action, combine it with her move action, and full-round a group intimidation: Intimidation Check (Imposing +2): 1d20+10+2 14 I said in the interests of brevity. Intimidation Check REROLL (Imposing +2): 1d20+10+2 15 ....thanks, Indira. +10 makes it 25, at least, on the reroll minimum rules. No hand-wavey here, it's an open fight. Intimidate Check vs. Intimidation (DC25): 6#1d20+7 17 8 26 27 18 23 Looks like two of them still want to play. They'll need initiative rolls, then! Initiative Check: 2#1d20+2 20 19 Round 1: angry man: KO 4x goon: standing down 21: Ghost Girl 20: Goon 1 (PL10) 19: Goon 2 (PL10) 12: Wraith (Bruised x1) Ghost Girl's up. Did she ever get in her will save from here?
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Short-changing yourself on max grapple a bit (STR +12, Attack +8, Super-Str +4 = +24). You're over-paying on the strength, slightly, too - 21pp for the Enhanced Strength, 7pp for the Super-Strength. For fluff purposes, how do you see the Contagious on the Javelins working? How're they damaging people in contact with your target when the javelin hits?
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Create Object does not allow you to create weapons that way, I'm afraid - it's explicitly for creating larger, more geometric creations. The only 'attacks' it offers you is creating an large object and then dropping it on people, or trying to create a cage around an enemy. If you want to create weaponry to attack with, you'll need to buy the appropriate Damage power(s).
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Alice hissed, the air passing between her teeth barely-audible even in the quiet of the library as she looked down at the van. Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope "Unfriendlies sitting on our egress," she quietly confirmed, scowling at them in the hopes that she'd manifest the power to make goons spontaneously combust. That'd be nice. A lot of her life would be better if she could make people spontaneously combust, she was pretty sure. "Minimum two guys, tattoos. They're in a van, though, and I don't know what's in it. If it's two, we can take 'em, but fighting in the open's gonna get risk attention. If the van's fulla more cheap ink, they'll at least slow us down way too long." She bit her lip, trying to weigh the odds. She didn't like these odds. Crews, what the hell. I'd be gone already. Empty-handed, but, y'know, gone. "Back-up exit?"
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Mostly just math stuff, on my end. Overall My immediate concern is that this character is under-capped: they're listed as PL10, but putting their drain aside the best they can do offensively is PL9 (+8 attack, +10 unarmed damage on the Str setting, which should probably be noted on the Abilities/DC Block sections). With the Drain I'm willing to call it 'close enough', though. Combat As AA noted, the grapple's a little off - my tired brain gives it a +10/+23, depending on whether or not Erebo's using their Strength alt power. Do correct me if I missed a bonus somewhere, though. With 6 Impervious Toughness and 2 non-Impervious Toughness, Erebo would have a -7 Knockback. Powers You're paying too much for the Create Object; with two extras that's 4pp/rank; 8*4= 32pp, plus 5 feats is 37pp, not 38. Fine for now, but worth updating on the sheet for when you make edits later. Final Costs You're over-paying; you have 19pp of saves and 9pp of feats, which leaves you at 149/150pp. You have one more point to spend anywhere you like!
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Did I make the fire better or worse? - Absurdist. How is it the 8th? I want my month back. No good excuses on this one, just too much other stuff going on. Gaian Knight / Tiamat (maxed) Strange Visitors (4) Dragonfly (maxed) The Nothing From Coming For You (3) Wraith - Eclipse - Grim Deep Into That Darkness Peering (2) Fragile (11) MAXimum Hunting (2) Gremlin Knock on the Door Job (2) Roll GK/Dragonfly over to Grim to get him to 15, if I miscounted, then split what remains between Wraith and Eclipse, please. Ref point to Eclipse.
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"Gap it," Dragonfly snapped - though it seemed more out of immediacy than any actual ire. "Or cage it. Probably did already, but worth making sure. If I had ego problems and villain tendencies, any 'tomb CPU' built would be either my brain upload or very bad traps. If I killed something like Mandragora and entombed it, the tomb CPU would be very very bad traps." Dragonfly's ego was debatable, but she did technically have a building full of science minions and some nascent robot body designs from the worst of her mad scientist phases, both of which she was trying very hard to not think about right now. "It's...fine, yes, okay. Mmh." She was tap-tap-tapping a finger against her leg plating again, audibly frowning. "Understand your concern. Don't like it, but understand. With Jill, though: free time travel would mean we were already doomed, or on very lucky fork of split timeline. More likely anomalous. What are the odds we can safely plug minimal interface equipment into tomb? Not putting my mind in there if able. Not worth the risk. Better to use oldest monitor we can find. Cheap keyboard nobody likes. Nothing that goes in there and touches any tomb should come back out. CRT suicide mission."
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I'm pretty happy to hold off on an IC post here until NPCs have had a chance to respond to Fred & Raina; dunno if I have much Matt can add that wouldn't make the IC thread's pacing weird.
