Fox
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"Huh. 'Middling' is more'n most people, I guess," Matt noted, frowning down at his guitar. The dog, meanwhile, responded to its scolding by completing its roll, looking at Winifred upside-down with a canine expression completely free of shame. "Wagner's...hrm. He was the, uh...." He strummed a few chords of Ride of the Valkyries - an acoustic guitar was probably not one's first pick for that particular piece, and he wasn't going to admit that he didn't know much more than those few notes, but at least it was recognizable and the dogs seemed pleased. "That guy. Never did any piano - can't take one around with me - but if you ever feel like practicing again I think there's an old one gettin' dusty in one of the storage rooms we're not supposed to get into. High notes have gone out of tune, but you can fix that. But that's it, huh? Wagner and parlors? No....what, uh, records? Wax, I guess. You probably didn't have vinyl."
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There was only guitar strumming, for a moment, while Matt tried to figure out how conversations with people his own age worked. Little kids were easy; ghosts he at least had an easy conversation-starter with. But peers? "So, uh, are you--" "Howl wishes to know what was popular in your time," one of the dogs casually interrupted in a voice like warm smoke and gravel, rolling onto its side to get a different perspective on their visitor. "We are not old enough to tell him, and the culture is not in our memories. We were doing other things." Matt bore the expression of anyone whose friends had jumped into a conversation on one's behalf uninvited, but he knew it was a losing fight. "Yeah, okay. I'm not big on, uh, history, I guess, but some stuff makes me kinda curious. Music and theater and whatever."
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"Got nothing to prove to me," Matt diplomatically pointed out, settling back with his guitar, which he went back to strumming. "Besides," he added, "I didn't...uh. See anything." One of the dogs made a noise suspiciously like a snicker, and Matt reached out to poke it with his foot. "You shut up. Tryin' to be nice, here." It playfully bit at his toes, but otherwise seemed undiscouraged. "What're you bringing him, anyway? 'cos if it smells or explodes, the dogs 'n I would probably not want it in the room with us. They knock things over sometimes, and I barely get away with having them here as-is. Mostly because nobody can stop 'em from showing up, but, y'know. Tryin' not to cause trouble."
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Mara smiled her happy Ellie smile, knowing just how badly Ellie needed that shut-eye. If Ellie needed a pillow, Mara was more than happy to serve for a good cause...and she wasn't going to pretend she didn't enjoy the same consideration sometimes. It was almost too comfortable an arrangement, really, even as the headrest - the young inventor wasn't nearly as worn down as her partner, but in the quiet of the room and the comfort of her love and the background hum of her own creations keeping watch, it took a major act of will to not join Ellie in her nap. Instead she gently ran her fingers through the medic's hair, softly humming as she watched her drone-delivered security feed with interest. Hospitals had enough bad things happen in them; she wasn't going to let someone else add to the pile. Not where Ellie worked. Not if she could help it.
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"Yeah, sure," Matt invited, stopping his guitar fiddling long enough to wave a hand; the dog didn't turn to look, but it somehow knew to get out of her way to let her into the small room, trotting back to jump up onto the already-crowded bed to Matt's grumbling discomfort. "Fred, right?" he asked, pushing himself back a little to make room; his dog cheerfully claimed that room with a satisfied sigh. "Seen you around, but haven't talked to you since the Halloween thing. I don't, uh, hang out much, I guess. How're things?"
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Gaian Knight: Fortitude Save vs. Nausea: 1d20+13 19 ....woooow, okay. With a +13, too. Eesh. Tiamat: Fortitude Save vs. Nausea: 1d20+13 28 I guess dragons are made out of sterner stuff. In the interests of not taking hefty penalties, I'll spend a hero point to re-roll GK's - which he can't possibly fail.
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There was a sound, muffled behind the door, that sounded oddly musical - it paused for a moment at the interruption, as if skipping a note, but picked right back up. "He's not here!" came the response, more informative than irate. "What do you mean she probably couldn't--" "Yes, I know their ears aren't great, that's--" "I- for-...fine. Go check the door." There was a beat of peace, a scrabbling sound, and the door slowly swung open. How, exactly, was something of a mystery: the only being near the door was a large, scruffy hound, looking very pleased with itself as its tail slapped the floor. Matt was still sitting on his bed, two more dogs in attendance, strumming something pleasant but unrecognizable on his guitar. "Guessing you're here for the Tin Man," he clarified, jerking his head toward his dorm mate's empty area; the motion dropped some hair over his eyes, but he tried not to let it bother him. "'fraid he's not here.
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"Not sure we have any better options, to be frank," Gaian Knight admitted - his attention was somewhat divided, trying to keep his cage whole for as long as possible, but from some of the cracks that were briefly forming across the outside of his earthen bars he was slowly losing ground. "At this point, if we can't pin him down long enough to get him out of here, our only remaining option is to beat him down. That's not really more kind than temporarily grabbing him by the brain and making him sit. Plus, maybe we can get one step closer to figuring out who did this to him." "I would vote for the beating," Tiamat rumbled, still in a half-circle around the cage as if daring it to split open, "if only as a lesson to his master. But perhaps removing him or stopping him entirely will force their hand regardless."
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Gaian Knight did not speak Russian, though he certainly got the gist of the message from Frost's voice. For all that he didn't want to hurt the man if it could be helped, he found that he agreed with the sentiment. He brought both hands up into glowing fists, the collection of pebbles and stones orbiting his platform following the gesture as if caught in the wake of something far larger; the ground under their defiant foe cracked, long bars of hard stone lancing up to snap closed over his head like the jaws of some great, earthen trap. "Hope you're getting something good off of him, Psyche," Gaian Knight grunted, dragging his hands together to grow crossbars across his makeshift cage. "I'm not going to lie: I'll do my best to hold him, but if he can snap Fleur's vines like that I'm not amazingly optimistic it'll last for too long."
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GK'll just try to cage him - a nice dome of stone bars, well-anchored. Alas, he gets a reflex save - DC23 or he's stuck inside the jungle gym. Assuming it does snag him, I believe it has 13 Toughness.
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Tiamat was ready for the man to break free; as soon as the vines began to break she shifted her weight, bringing one great clawed forearm up....only to be foiled by the foliage, errant plant matter knocking her strike just a hair off-target. She growled in self-imposed frustration, falling back onto all fours to re-assess. She was no coward, but anything strong enough to snap Fleur de Joie's hold was worth caution and teamwork.
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Yeah, that'll do it. Melee Attack Roll vs. Boil-Man (unarmed dragon): 1d20+7 22 If that hits, it's a DC30 Toughness save vs. damage.
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Mara was largely quiet as they made their way through the hospital, content to hold Ellie's hand and give her a moment's peace after so much excitement, but found she had to break both on their arrival...the held hand somewhat more reluctantly than the quiet. "Ought to remember this room," she observed once the door was shut behind them, glancing around. "Can see why it doesn't get used much, but quiet places are valuable. Am sure we could find a use for it." She stole a quick, simple kiss before stepping away from her girlfriend, space twisting around her body to replace clothes with powered armor....though only long enough to hold her hands out and call her friends. Space opened up and deposited a half-dozen little robots into the air, each the size of a football with the front end lopped flat, metal bodies of adjusting plates formed around a large, cyclopean eye that glowed a neon blue. They looked for all the world like Puppy's oblong, flying, militarized cousins. "Drones," Mara brightly supplied, suit disappearing to whence it had come. Her new pets hovered around her, some peering around the room and at least two inspecting Ellie with bright chirping. "New project; thought the support could be useful. Good for search and rescue, some combat utility. Plus, recon." Lights danced behind her eyes, and some of the set issued a quiet chirrup - their eyes dimmed, their bodies shimmered, and they nearly disappeared from view - visible only by the chameleon-like ripple they caused in their surroundings. "Not very smart on their own," Mara noted, holding the door just open enough to let them slip away and into the hospital, "especially without the suit, but good at figuring out orders and teamwork. Hive AI. What one knows, they all know, so we know." At a gesture, one of the ones left behind settled down onto the ground, extending little legs to balance on its pointed end. Its great eye shifted color, projecting a two-dimensional screen into the air that played camera feeds from each drone as it made its way into the room with their patient or the surrounding hallways. "But, now, waiting."
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Tiamat hit the ground with a stone-shuddering thud, claws braking her slide across the ground until she was just within a dragon's arm's reach of the man. She circled him, cautiously, wings folding back across her sides. "Now we secure him and allow the psychic another chance," she rumbled, lowering her head to peer at the plant-wrapped prey. Her tail lashed, great scale-covered muscles rippling in quiet anticipation. "We also ensure that if he breaks free of even your chains, he does not get far."
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Tiamat will land at melee range (albeit the edge of her melee range), and ready an action to swat the guy if he breaks free.
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Gaian Knight & Tiamat Brave Enough to Burn (4) [ToV] Short Attention Span Theater (3) Dragonfly - Wraith The Traveler In The Dark (1) Eclipse - Grim MAXimum Load (1) Ref point to Eclipse, please.
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My cousin is getting married this weekend; I'm flying out Friday (5/6) to attend, and won't be back home until the following Monday (5/9). As usual, I'll try to keep up with posts and such, but responses may be delayed and I'm unlikely to have much chat presence.
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"Yes." Wraith had apparently finished cleaning up outside with Blue Fox - though what entered the doorway was terribly alien, a three-eyed hunchback on long, unnaturally spindly limbs, one of which casually dragged the last of the guards in behind her to throw him unceremoniously over into one of the building's corners. "It is a poor god that eats people," she noted, slowly withdrawing back into a more conventionally humanoid profile as she walked the aisle to join the others. "A good god watches over their...what is your word. 'Flock'? As with sheep? One that eats people who do not wish to be eaten is rabid, or not a god at all. Both should be brought down for the good of all."
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"Well, so much for walls," Gaian Knight grimly observed, begoggled eyes watching the man as he hurled through the air. "I'm with Frost: we may need to take a more direct approach here." "At least he cannot fly," Tiamat noted, wheeling in the air to follow their foe. "It is a small advantage, but an advantage none the less." "Mmhm. We still need to keep civilians out of his path, and I'm still on-board for getting into his head - don't put yourself in too much danger, but if we can figure out what he's been sent after, it'll help...and if we can shut him down and get him some proper care, all the better. If we can keep him busy long enough, Fleur and I can try to cage him in properly - something he can't jump out of...if he doesn't have any other tricks."
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Initiative Rolls: 1d20+0 18 1d20+1 21 18 for GK 21 for Tiamat. Which is actually worryingly good for both of them. I'm sure they'll make up for it with many, many failed saves later on.
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"Sounds like a plan; backup in progress. Tiamat, hang back to play distraction or heavy hitter if we need you; I don't want to test the boiled scales theory any more than you do, but if we're going to test it, be ready to hit him like a ton of bricks." Gaian Knight dropped out of the sky, grabbing the edge of his platform as it flew through the city at roof height. Everywhere he went the earth flowed up and out, bits of broken architecture and the ground from beneath the city coming together in a solid patchwork of a spike-topped wall, two stories high and almost half as thick in places. It ran between the buildings, zig-zagging wherever he could put it that would be in the path of the seemingly-malicious being and not in the way of fleeing civilians...though where that wasn't an option, he left open doorways hopefully barely too small for something of its stature, large engraved arrows pointing citizens to their nearest exit. "Let's hope this guy's not a great climber - or can't turn into mist, or heaven only knows."
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While Psyche's doing that, GK's going to fly down a little and throw up some (hopefully unnecessary) walls - basically blocking off anything he can that won't trap civilians between a wall and Mr. Boils. They'll be Toughness 13, and ~2 stories tall, built through and between buildings where he can since Mr. Boils clearly isn't phased by mundane architecture.
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"I'll do whatever I can," Grim promised, with a teenager's sincerity and all the gravity of someone who'd dealt with the dead far too often. "Shouldn't be too hard to track down if she spent a lot of time here - though if you've got a phone number for her to go with that address in the woods, I'd take it." He got to his feet, dog huffing in annoyance at the loss of its head scratches. "And of course it'd be in the woods," he wryly conceded, popping his back. "Been all over the city, what's a trip out into the trees? Gotta take the dogs out on a run anyway, or they go stir-crazy."
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"I'm going to argue for containment as a first priority," Gaian Knight said into his League communicator; he stood on an earthen platform, well above ground level, looking down at the path of destruction with obvious concern. He we already moving in the thing's general direction, though he was keeping as much distance as he thought he could afford - no telling what it could do yet. "He can't even get near people without hurting them. If we can blockade him off, even for a little bit, we buy time for people to get out of his path - or for us to do it for them. Best case, we draw his attention and either take him down or lead him on clear path out of the city or into the water. Thoughts?" Tiamat rumbled overhead, turning slow circles in the sky as she, too, watched from above...though with keener eyes than her friend. "I do not relish the thought of finding out if scales can boil," she said, turning her great head to scowl at her prey, "but I may have to if we must get close. We may be no more immune than the common people."
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Brave Enough to Burn [IC] (Open to FL Auxiliary Members)
Fox replied to alderwitch's topic in Americas
"You're not on fire," Gaian Knight assured her. Coffee had only gotten him so far - he made an odd gesture with one hand, and the earth gently, quietly flowed up to form a few simple earthen chairs for anyone who chose to take one. Some of the grass had gotten taken along for the ride, for the sake of more comfortable seating, and so as to make room and disturb the rest of the plant life as little as possible; his own seat was barely formed before he eased himself into it, pulling his face cloth down around his neck. "We're sorry for the, ah," he paused, glancing Sandman's way, "abruptness of your trip here. Safety comes first, for you and for everyone else...basically anyone who isn't us, heh. And this is the safest place we know, generally speaking. You turned back as soon as you fainted, and that's a pretty great sign, especially since you stayed that way once you woke up; between that and not grabbing at the earth anymore when you calmed down, I'd say you'll get pretty great control over yourself, even if you're not--" "Twenty-sixteen," said the tall redhead. "Tiamat--" "No. She deserves to know," she insisted, leaning against the back of a chair, arms crossed. Her expression was hard to read, but when she looked at the girl she seemed...uncharacteristically sympathetic, something harsh but protective buried somewhere in her glowing red eyes. "It's 2016. Whatever happened to you, you've been out for 54 years. These people are too nice," she added, gesturing, "except maybe the Russian; they've been trying to find a careful way to say it. But you deserve to know."