Fox
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Freedom City Guidebook
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Oh dear - take all our best wishes, olopi, and all the best luck we can send your way. Rest up, and know we'll be here when you get back!
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"You don't even know." Grim was in the fight on the heels of his own hounds, giving them just enough time to break their way into the enemy pack before he ran in himself, beelining for the one that had been knocked down. Dark smoke gathered around his fists as he struck out against it...only to miss, the creature twisting out of his way. Its agility was rewarded by the sharp teeth of one of Grim's hounds, which dug into a leg to yank it back into the path of a follow-up punch, which was significantly more successful in finding its mark. "They aren't even mine and I still feel bad about it. I'm gonna have to give belly rubs all around after this, or somethin'."
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Dropped the ball here; my fault entirely, and I'm very, very sorry. Grim will run up and punch a dog. But not his dogs! The bad dog. Since Prone gives him a +4 to hit it, he'll take a -4/+4 Power Attack, why not. Melee Attack Roll vs. Cu Sidhe (+4 vs. Prone, Power Attack -4/+4): 1d20+12+4-4 18 That's why not. The dogs didn't do so well on their go, and I'd rather he not fall behind (or drag the thread out any more than I already did....), so I'll cough up a hero point there. Melee Attack REROLL vs. Cu Sidhe (+4 vs. Prone, Power Attack -4/+4): 1d20+12+4-4 20 Good enough. That's a DC27 Toughness save vs. damage. They shouldn't count as undead, so his Drain Tou won't apply.
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Alice's eyebrows went up an inch, and she took a minute to size Lou up; as far as she was concerned his offer was concerningly well-timed and way out of left field, but it was an offer, none the less. Besides, she needed the money, after having her place raided. And she'd worked for worse. "Better'n what we have already," she observed, her distress replaced with purpose. "Still not super happy about working on a crew I don't know, but for the right price it's doable. And a shot at keeping the police off our backs?" Her face split into a grin. "I'll make my rates real reasonable, just for you."
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"Other side of the aisle, then," Matt offered, pointing back and to the left toward a relevant display. "Probably a little less variety, though. I guess they're less popular? Unless you go to, like, someplace that sells the big knee-highs or whatever, but that's all vinyl crap. Or work boots, but like Raina said, probably not a lot of that here worth getting, and they're more practical than fancy." His tone made a moderate attempt to give both terms equal weight despite his better and more frugal instincts, and largely succeeded. "Might be able to find something with a thicker heel, at least?" He frowned at the less comfortable-looking heels on offer, shifting Fred's goods to one arm so that he could pick one up and frown at it. "Y'know, I've seen people actually move in these, and I still don't know how. Pretty sure I'd snap my foot off at the ankle, and then who'd walk my dogs?"
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GM "Aw, Jacob, what'd--" The thug made an odd choking noise as the spectre of his friend's injuries came to light, and his bravado fell away - quite literally, his glowing persona shredding against the terror for the poltergeist's projections. His legs went first, pulling his less responsive other half behind him as he fled for the door and scrambled ineffectually against the barricade, throwing chairs to the side and desperately banging against the bookcase. "Hey! HEY! GET - GET ME OUTTA HERE I GOTTA GET OUT, LET ME OUT, SAVE ME!!" On the outside, his friends had lost their meager remaining protections as well; one banged on the door as hard as he could, working the doorknob as the other turned tail and ran....only to reappear, hurled a few feet through the air and into the door hard enough to rattle it in its frame. Several hundred pounds of molten metal dropped from the ceiling without so much as a whisper, one of the frightened remainders turning his head to look into a terribly amused face that held one finger over lips it didn't have. "Ssshhhh," said Wraith, eyes narrowed in a Kinigosi grin that the thug could barely register before the hammer came down on his head. The rattling had stopped. No help was coming. The thug inside the room turned around, backing into the barricade bookcase like he wanted to disappear inside of it. "N-naw, man, naw...."
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GM ".....nuh uh," said one of the glowing figures; he and his compatriot flickered like bad lightbulbs as they backed away from the beckoning door, hands raised to ward off whatever this new evil was. "We didn't sign up for this ####." "W-we were told supers, maybe," said the other fearful felon, his field collapsing entirely as he backed away. "Capes, y'know? Tights, speeches, worst you get is a concussion or a free trip to the doc's. I've seen this movie, man. Guys like us - guys like us don't survive to the end of this movie, man!" The last of them snorted, as if he, too, wasn't mysteriously several feet further away from the door than he'd started. "You guys are...you guys are just-- wusses. That's what you are. Kids." He brought his fists together, psychic energy radiating outward as he psyched himself up. "Ain't nothin' that can stop us, y'know? Some freak in a cowl with a gas grenade, or somethin'. You'll see." He walked down the corridor, field jagged and fading, but still protecting him. "Gonna show you there's nothin' for me to be afr---for you t'be afraid of. Yeah," he said, cracking his neck as he made his way through the door. "Nothin'."
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Mara frowned, turning her eyes - but not her head - away from her holographic screen for a moment. "Dislike the implications of that," she noted, one of her security designs reconfiguring into something that was less "passive threat detection" and more "active threat elimination". It only took a moment for her to get her mad weapons scientist brain back in order, but it was a moment too long, and she dismissed the screen with a reflexive scowl. "Implications of an anti-Minerva, bad enough, clearly," she said, drumming a finger against the table. "Tactical considerations aren't great. Suicide troops and mind control are only good for deniable operations - things you don't want traced back to you. Fear, caution, testing waters. If they can last a while under control, mildly concerned about someone....stockpiling. Should probably keep an eye out for any groups, gangs, populations losing numbers suddenly. Imperfect, hard to get numbers, but better than going blind. Choice of pawns can't be coincidental, though. Luxury of choice implies carelessness, raw power, or both. Really don't like that."
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APPROVED
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"'Women and shoes' is sort of a modern stereotype, but I guess it's also a fashion thing?" Matt offered, adjusting his load of clothing now that Fred had taken part of it off the top. If he'd noticed what items she'd deliberately made sure ended up in her set, he was wise enough not to let on. He seemed perfectly content to play pack mule, really - either because he figured it would be his role, or because he was somehow already used to it. "There's a lot more variety in your fashion, gotta have to the shoes to match, I guess. Guys have it easy, unless you want to be really fancy or go all movie-star." "Steel-toes aren't a bad idea, though. Good for kicking people and stomping around off of nice roads and sidewalks, pretty durable if you find a good pair. Guessing Raina's gonna want you to get a pair of heels or...whatsit. The not-heels dress shoes," he weakly proffered, glancing at the fashionista in question. "Flats - to go with any nice clothes you get. Those ones are probably not great for every-day wear."
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"Never really got the pockets thing," Matt admitted, shrugging helplessly while his hands were still trapped in his own. "Purses, right, sure - I kinda envy those sometimes, unless they're those little...what're they called. The little tiny purses - clutch purses?" He paused, gesturing a jacket-pocketed hand toward the relevant counters a bit away in the store. "If I wanna carry something that doesn't fit in my pockets, I've gotta use something backpack-sized or bigger, or I'm some kinda deviant. The pocket thing seems dumb, though - why make it look like you have pockets, if you don't?" He cocked his head, eyeing Winifred's hair as Raina held it up for inspection and evaluation. "Short hair could be cute," he admitted, raising an eyebrow. "Could be worth trying. If you don't like it, I'm sure Raina could find you a hat you like, and at least you wouldn't have to worry about your hair getting into chemicals and science and stuff for a while?"
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GM Even without Wraith's tracking, the intruders wouldn't have been difficult to find - big, glowing figures in a darkened building tended to stand out somewhat. The small group had a variety of shapes and sizes represented, but all three had the same monstrous, glowing humanoid form that their frozen friend had sported, all three showed signs of having moved less around obstacles than through obstacles, and all three were growing desperately uncomfortable in the face of a fog they couldn't understand. "D'you think they just turned on the AC? Like, it's acting up, or something." "You idiot, we cut the power." One of the forms smacked another upside the head with a noise and force that implied something that would be more bone-crunching without their protective fields. "How're you gonna run AC without power? Someone probably just, y'know, broke a pipe." This part of the building had high, lofted ceilings, once you were out of the offices - Kimber and Indira had been working together far longer than was necessary for her to guess where her friend had gone. She hung from the rafters invisible but for Ghost Girl's supernaturally perceptive eyes, growing an extra arm to flash her friend a quick thumb's up. "Yeah, sure," muttered a glowing thug, his luminescent field flickering for a moment. "Broke a pipe. Probably didn't even notice, 'cos we're awesome."
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Blast 5 is probably in-line with a space gun, if only just - the +Penetrating's a bit much. Really, if you want it to be useful, you should probably buy it as a Device - equipment's cheap for a reason. You'll also want something closer to your PL caps, since PL10 enemies aren't likely to be terribly impressed by a PL8 weapon (factoring in the new ranged attack bonus your character's sporting).
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Gaian Knight & Tiamat - Dragonfly Interceptors: Echo vs Gecko (1) Wraith Horrorshow (4) Nine+ Ladies Dancing (2) Eclipse - Grim The Dog Park Will Not Harm You (3) Transmutation (5) Gremlin Knock on the Door Job (2) GM Horrorshow (7) Ref point to Eclipse, please. 15 posts to distribute, between Dragonfly's rollover and the GMing, assuming I got my counts right - let's push Wraith up to 15, and throw the rest Eclipse's way, please, as I don't think I'll have enough left to also get Grim up to 15.
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Aha, fair enough. Kenson! APPROVED!
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For the record, I'm a crazy person and was looking at the wrong reward tracker. I swear I must be losing my mind, sometimes. Sheet feedback has been sent via PM.
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APPROVED!
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Saves +3 Con +4 would give you +7 on Fort saves, not +8. Skills You appear to have bought 18pp of skills, not 17pp. Double-check your final bonuses, too - you're short-selling yourself on your final Diplomacy bonus.
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According to your reward tracker, all your character slots are currently occupied - is this a replacement for one of those slots, retiring the existing character, or is this an NPC?
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Starshot Saves While the final pp tally is right, the Saving Throws line currently adds 2+4+4 to make 10. Feats Your current reward tracker lists 30pp of equipment for Starshot, and this sheet lists a combined 45pp of equipment and minions. For the sake of updating your reward tracker, I'm assuming you're spending your last remaining veteran award on the remaining equipment/minions? Equipment As currently listed, you're 1ep over-budget at 181ep. However, I believe you're paying 1ep too much for the spaceship (which, incidentally, also notes the base feature set as 13ep instead of 31, and is missing the ep cost of the super-movement) - maybe give it another pass and double-check my math there? Powers Your pp total here notes an 8pp power that doesn't appear to exist, leaving you 8pp under-budget. It also disagrees with the final pp totals line (54 vs. 46 actual vs. 49 under Totals), so double-check that when revising. Gunmonkey Abilities Double-check the math here - the totals line lists 18pp spent on constitution, instead of 8, and the total would be 33pp spent, not 37, so you're under-budget. Combat With a defense of +10, Gunmonkey's flat-footed defense would be +5, not +6. Powers Super Senses 3 costs 3pp, not 2; this is noted correctly in the powers tally line, but the final tally there would be 23pp, not 22pp.
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"I learned from the best," Wraith insisted as they left the room, body melting together into a less horrifying shape...and one that was easier to move around in. "Spending time with you, and movie nights, have been very good at teaching me what humans fear. Not having bones very much helps, though, yes." She held up a finger just outside the door, eyes narrowing as she grew a multitude of long, thin spines that arched back from the sides of her face, gently twitching in the near-lightless air. "....they are not being very subtle," she quietly pondered, cocking her head toward one corner of the floor. "The ones below us I cannot hear well enough, but I believe they are on the far side from the stairs to this floor, breaking something. The ones on this floor are further away...I think there was another hallway there. They may have gone the long way around, checking other labs for the device." She frowned, spines twitching as she tried to figure out how and where sounds were echoing across the old, abandoned office spaces. "....if we split up," she suggested, gesturing left and right along their own hallway, "we can follow the outer walls and sneak up on both sides of them. If you frighten them, perhaps I can knock them out, and we can trade on the next floor? At least they will have nowhere to run."
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APPROVED
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You have 65pp of powers, not 64 - as such, this character is one power point over their stated budget.
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MECHANICS TIME! For the purposes of this thread, our luminescent naer-do-wells are thugs plucked from Freedom City and beyond (mostly beyond) to act as muscle, and have been equipped with a device that vastly improves their fighting prowess - depending on the thug, they'll be anywhere from PL7 to PL13, with a lot of physical strength and durability and a few extras (like Affects Insubstantial and an immunity to direct mind-altering or -reading effects, as their 'skin' is basically psionic force). As noted by the odd, scary small man with the Riddler complex, though, it's basically a projection of their own confidence. Scaring them shorts it out, and leaves them not only street-level, but minions, besides. Given the environment and goings-on, well-crafted and inventive scare descriptions get a hefty circumstance bonus to what would normally be some kind of Intimidation roll - generally assume that if you can give them a proper scare, you can be-minion them, barring special circumstances. Their current floor is mostly the lab they're already in, with some open-floor lab space (and a couple other large labs) outside, with two stairwells going down. The floor below them, from what little they saw coming up, was all boxes, crates, and dust-sheet-covered science nonsense.
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GM The thug had watched Ghost Girl's transformation with increasing distress, but his response wasn't really needed by the time she was done: his own panic was clear, and as soon as she'd started pulling a scythe out of his torso his device had, by all appearances, shorted out entirely, losing what glow it had left. Curiously, the device itself had resisted her passage somewhat - not enough to keep her from her dramatics, but enough to imply that at full power whatever field it created might not be so easy to trespass. The scientists had watched them both with a mix of horror and scientific curiosity, but the former appeared to be winning - especially for their business friend, Mr. Boll, who was trying extremely hard to look calm while simultaneously trying to position himself near the trash can as his face slowly lost every color but white and green. "I, uh. Y...yes, well, that's....oh. Oh, oh dear." Browning mopped his forehead with his tie, deliberately turning his back to the pair to watch his slowly-dimming screens. "Yes. Well. I'm...I'm certainly glad you're on our side. If we may be so bold, there are two groups of three quite nearby, one on this floor and one on the floor below. If...if you could kindly clear those out, we will try to block ourselves in, in case you - in case anyone you miss makes it up here while you work your way downstairs. Good, uhm. Good...good luck." "Do p-p-p-please p-p-ut your faces back on before you come back?" ventured Hitch, which earned him a cautioning kick to the shoe from Whale. "I-i-if you w-want, I mean."
