KnightDisciple

For long moments, Cobalt Templar stared at Bonda, not speaking a word. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "This seems to be the only way. I agree with papercut. And make no mistake." He scowled and leaned forward, his natural bulk likely a bit intimidating. "If anyone besides the king in this room, especially those that are not armed, are brought to harm, I will have words with you and the others. Very stern words." Probably words back up by fire constructs. Cobalt Templar took a step back, the better to watch the room for action against the civilians. "I suppose we can't stop this bit of bloodshed, at least."

Right then. This should be at least a little bit better than last month. Gabriel Earth Victoriana: Deliver Us From Evil: 10 IC Posts Ordinary Time (Solo Thread): 5 IC Posts Total: 15 IC Posts Cobalt Templar: Ethical Dilemmas: 10 IC Posts Change is Necessary for Growth: 5 IC Posts Total: 15 IC Posts Totals as of 10:58pm CST, Wednesday, November 30.

Gabriel may not have been subtle in deeds, but he was certainly decisive and impressive. He watched several other men fall as Carrier went about her business. Oh, he couldn't see her, though his ears were catching hints of her location without even trying. But he knew he hadn't hit those other men, so it was only logical it was her doing. He turned to the last man standing, not moving from his spot, and lifted the spear to point at him. "Red light says "Stop"." An invisible lance of force flew outward, striking the man head-on. The vibrations wormed their way to his brain and nervous system, working to jumble and disrupt things just enough to lock him in place, even without ropes.

Hm. I think that'll be a Paralyze attack against this guy... Full Round Action: Ranged Paralyze. Mook, I take 10, that's 23. That'll be a DC 23 Will Save against the Paralysis.

Gabriel stood there and narrowed his eyes. These men, so-called "protectors of the faith", they annoyed him. Which was poor form for them. "Understood." In the twinkling of an eye, he was suddenly holding a shining spear, one covered in holy sigils and symbols. He held it in a somewhat defensive posture, as much as he could with only one hand gripping it. With his other hand, he pointed at one of the farthest grey-clothed men and fired off a blast of sonic energy that would make an average man's punch feel soft by comparison. "I'm far from winded, gentlemen, and I'd say the forges of Heave outstrip what you've all got for your blacksmith. Perhaps you should all give up?"

Hm. We'll take this a bit slower, since I'm vague on how many we're facing... Free Action: Switch his weapon to Spear "mode" from the Ring form. Standard Action: Blast one of the dudes. Since these guys are apparently mooks, I'll just take 10, which nets a 23 to Attack. DC 28 Toughness Save.

Shelved for the moment, will do more later perhaps.

Gabriel's on 18. Sorry for delayed response.

Cobalt Templar (for he didn't really even want to think of himself by his real identity here) cautiously eyed the rest of the lunchroom as he and his team found seats. He ended up on one side of the table from the others, his sheer size inadvertently giving him a fair bit of elbow room. He tucked his notable cape in somewhat, but after one person nearly tripped over it, he just dismissed the construct, leaving him in the now rather plain blue outfit. He was rather quiet as they ate, taking in the sights and sounds of the lunchroom, not really noticing the eyes that were likely upon his rather bulky frame (he probably dwarfed all but a small fraction of the other students there). When Kimber spoke up, he frowned in thought. He spoke quietly, surprisingly so, even. "Hm. That's...suspect. Makes me wonder if this place tends to attract more shapeshifters? Wish we could cross-reference the roster, powers, other possible incidents, that sort of thing. I mean, maybe it's mostly what the headmaster here told the Headmaster. But I'm not sure I want to take things at face value, either."

Gabriel was already moving out the door, but he clearly wasn't flying that fast as his voice entered the ears of M. "Chancellor not corrupt. Helped uncover conspiracy. Group within the Church. Large, foul ritual planned. Retrieving Carrie." It was clear he'd given the information as a mere courtesy, and didn't consider the British man any sort of actual authority figure. A moment later, a sonic boom rumbled the windows. Moments later, he was at the front door of the Vatican, his eyes searching for Carrie. Round trip had been perhaps a minute. His voice cast about the area around him, seeking only her ears. His own ears strained to hear her voice, and in that strain they easily covered a huge range... "At the front door. Hurry up. Yell if you need help."

It wasn't a big room, and due to the need for Cobalt Templar and Papercut to cooperate in forming the construct they'd be leaving in, the large blue-clad boy wasn't very far away when Bonda talked of killing the king. Then Sharl suggested basically letting it happen. At least Koshiro had the decency to suggest an alternate path. For many long moments, he stood there, opening and closing his fists in near-helpless frustration. Finally, he looked around the room, looked at the globe containing the impotent king, and glanced toward the battered door. Then he sighed, a sound that conveyed the horrible jumble of emotions writhing around inside his mind right now. "What Papercut said. If the king renounces his title, can he be allowed to live, instead of being murdered in cold blood? Or must your new "paradise" be paved in the blood of the unarmed?" It was clear he was still disgusted with the incredibly violent revolution they had going on. "Either way, can you guarantee all the others will be safe?"

Gabriel frowned a bit and heft the chancellor to a fairly stable position. "I'll get him to the Consulate. You start heading for the entrance, I'll pick you up as well. We really shouldn't split up right now any more than we absolutely have to. We can talk about how to get back in here soon." With those words, Gabriel left the room in a rush of air. Had the chancellor been aware of his surroundings, he'd have experienced an incredibly disorienting rush of sight and sound, and then a rather quick stop right at the door to the British Consulate. Gabriel frowned and spoke, his voice echoing throughout the building...but not an inch further. "I need someone to take an injured VIP off my hands at the front door! We still have an agent in the field in danger!"

Gabriel turned as the men in grey burst into the room. He was already stepping in front of the chancellor when the first shots flew out. Most missed entirely. A few struck his armor and *spanged* into the walls or furniture. A couple managed to scrape some of his less-protected flesh (especially near his armpits). He didn't seem to notice the pain. Instead, the anger on his face was due to the sight of the blood flowing from the Chancellor's wounds. Carrie had already moved to help him, which was good. Gabriel was interested in something different. He finished stepping in front of his fellow hero and the simple man of the cloth, and spoke in harsh, clipped tones. "Get him somewhere safe. These men are mine." He took a deep breath, and then shouted. But it was by no means a normal shout. While Carrie could hear the attack, to her it was as if Gabriel was speaking loudly, in a somewhat deeper voice than normal. To the men suspected of being Inquisition lapdogs, it was like being struck by a solid wall that shook them to their bones, moving faster than any vehicle in this world likely could move.

So, I'm currently down to 4HP. We've got a bunch of guys with guns, a severely wounded chancellor, and an injured Gabriel Free Action: Extra Effort: Power Stunt! I am stunting Damage 13 (Extras: Area [General, Shapeable, 13 5ft cubes]). Move Action: Place Gabriel in front of the Chancellor, with all the mooks in front of him. Standard Action: Sonic Shout! It makes me wanna shout! That'll be a DC 23 Reflex save for half, DC 28 Toughness Save for full (21 for half damage).

Let's see. 3 DC 22 saves. 25, 18, 13. Ugh. The 18 means another bruise. I'm going to burn an HP to reroll that 13. Since I'd have a +11 bonus, and the minimum roll is 11, that's 22, so no point in actually rolling it.

Save 1: 20 Save 2: 15 So 1 Bruise. EDIT: Initiative is 25.

Uh, SC? Sure this is the right thread? Anyways, DC 25 Notice....18 also fails.

October 7, 2011 Freedom College, Southside, Freedom City USA It had been a rather trying week for the staff at Freedom College. While classes had been cancelled for 4 of the 5 days of the previous week, this week had been "business as usual". Or at least, that's what the administration was trying to do. Considering the still-agitated nature of the student body, Carson Keefe wasn't totally sure it was working. Every day he'd do his level best to keep his students in line without resorting to the higher levels of his supernatural people skills (out of a sense of professional ethics). And every day he'd been tempted to pull out his hair, shout his students deaf, then sweet-talk them all into model citizens after their ears were healed by the local UNISON outpost. The one that was just now packing up. That was a good bit of news for the college, as it meant things could (hopefully) go back to being totally normal. there. It was bad news for a suddenly shy theater professor trying to figure out a way to talk to a beautiful UNISON medic that he'd only met in his costumed identity. 'Why is she sticking in my mind like this? Something about her...it's almost like that idea of a "kindred spirit"...' Ironically, for a man who could casually fly at enormous speeds, and sometimes hear for miles around him, he didn't see the collision that was about to happen. Instead, he ran directly into the back of one Lieutenant Sonya Sokalova, UNISON Medic. She had been standing on the sidewalk, distractedly looking around the campus as if lost, when Carson walked into her, eyes still looking up at the sky (for just a moment, he'd thought!). The two barely caught their balance, though Carson cheated just a tiny bit. After a moment of recovering themselves, Carson spoke first. Some back part of his brain made sure his Irish accent was easily noticeable. "I'm so sorry about that, miss! I should have watched where I was going! Again, I'm sorry Miss...Sokolova?" He feigned glancing at her nametag. She gave him a tired smile as she spoke, stronger hints of her Russian accent peaking through. "Yes. Lieutentan Sonya Sokolova, UNISON. We're actually leaving, but I was trying to find a good coffee shop first. I saw a few outside the campus proper, but somehow I've gotten turned around. Must be the trees. And you are...?" Gabriel flushed, then gave a grin. He took a step back and gave a dramatic bow. "Miss Sokolova, I am Carson Finbar Keefe. Irishman and master of theater, teacher and molder of young minds, and occasionally pretty handy with a flute, trumpet, or bit of song." Sonya laughed as he straightened out of the bow. "I am off duty, so please call me Sonya." "Only if you call me Carson. I'll seal the deal by showing you the best coffeehouse nearby, but only if you promise to allow me to share a table!" "Why Carson, I think I shall agree to that." The two began walking, Carson taking the lead just a bit so they reached their destination without too much wandering. 'Well. There it is. Thank you, Lord...' He couldn't help but smile as they chatted and walked, a few of the students who knew him in passing stopping to raise an eyebrow at their theater teacher apparently about to go on a date with a woman from UNISON. "So tell me, what's it like being a theater teacher here?" "There is an American saying I've found to be a good analogy. "Herding cats". That's not to say it isn't rewarding, mind you..." And so a single step was taken in a journey.

September 30, 2011 Southside, Freedom City USA It had been 3 days since the Gorgon left the Sol System. In that time, Freedom City, and the rest of the world, were slowly moving back to a state that somewhat resembled normalcy. Or at least the new normal; there had been fear, death, and destruction spread across the globe, and things would likely never be quite the same again. And while Southside hadn't been hit too badly by the attacks of the Gorgon, or the natural disasters caused by the being's presence, it had felt the consequences of frightened and opportunistic human beings. So it was that the hero Gabriel was on patrol today, his civilian job still having a day off as everyone recovered from thinking the world was ending. The major crime had died off, many of the fearful rioters going home as soon as the Gorgon disappeared. At this point, he figured there were one or two stray looters/robbers, and a couple of the local gangs that had swollen their ranks a bit and were feeling brave. 'Oh look, there's a group of numbskulls now.' He was perhaps more irritable than he ought to be for his work, but frankly it was wearing on him, dealing with these folks. He'd barely gotten any sleep since the incident with the demon-led mob. And that was...3 days ago. He shook his head and blurred through the air to land in front of the gang. His coat gently flapped in the breeze, his armor gleamed, and the light shone off his spear just so. When he spoke, it was a calm, almost friendly voice. "How about you kids run home and think about other ways to spend your time." "Screw you!" One of the gang members pulled a pistol and fired right at Gabriel's center mass. The projectile *spanged* harmlessly off of the heavenly metal. The hero himself frowned. "Hm. Hard way it is, then." He took a deep breath, then gave a guttural roar that blasted the whole gang off their feet and into unconsciousness. As soon as he was done, he sagged a bit, the spear helping keep him upright. He watched the young men, but they were all so out of it there was no danger. A few moments later, the owner of the shop behind him jogged out. "I've already called the police, Gabriel. Are you-" "I'm fine, I just need to-" "Rest for a bit. I'll make sure he gets on his way. UNISON help and all that." Lieutenant Sonya Sokalova of UNISON strode up, a bag of medical supplies over one shoulder. The shopkeeper gave her a slightly odd look, but nodded and moved to stand next to the unconscious gang members as he talked with the authorities over the phone. Gabriel just raised an eyebrow at her appearance out of nowhere. "I've been helping with various minor wounds around here, from the unrest and so forth. At least you kept your not-Yankee self from getting hurt this time. That said, perhaps we could move elsewhere to speak for a moment?" Almost before she was done speaking, they were on a nearby rooftop, and Gabriel was sitting down on a convenient piece of stonework near the middle. His spear simply vanished before he pushed his hood back and pulled off his helmet. The mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth stayed, though. He gave a wry grin to the woman. "We keep running into each other." "I looked for you this time, oh shiny one. I figured you'd be in this condition. I can't do a whole lot, but I can at least clear your head. You're not the only hero down here in Southside, but you're certainly one of the most well-known and obviously powerful ones. It seems like a good idea to make sure you don't work yourself to death." "What, are you my nursemaid now?" 'No, bad Carson! No images of nurse outfits! Bad boy!' "I'm a medic from UNISION, Gabriel. It's my job to make sure heroes like you stay alive. So as a licensed medic, and a doctor to boot, I'm ordering you to go home, wherever that is, and rest." "Hn. I actually was about done with things anyway. Glad to get a doctor's advice though. Hey, that's cold!" Sonya had laid her left hand on top of Gabriel's head and channeled a bit of energy into it; at his response, she just smiled. "I'm easing your symptoms of fatigue. Like I said, take it easy for a day or two. Doctor's orders." "Uh...Yes, ma'am. I'll drop you off back at the College where your outpost still is." And in the blink of an eye, she was standing on the lawn there, and Gabriel was out of sight. But perhaps not totally out of mind... ----------------------------------------------------------- Back at his apartment, Carson sighed and stowed his costume, before heading into his bedroom to take a quick, cold shower. He was still bone-deep tired, and needed some rest. "Women." He couldn't fight the slight smile on his face, though...

As a note, between CT and Papercut, we've got 16 5-foot cubes (if I did the math right), minus whatever was used for the king. That's a lot of material (since it doesn't have to be stacked in those cubes, right?). Probably enough we could actually enclose the thing, though it would be tight. But hey, if it lets CT fly at full speed (500mph), then its worth it.

"Good call. I was tempted to do something less elegant." He frowned at Koshiro's admittance of how stretched such a conveyance would be for him. He closed his eyes for a moment, his body actually pulsing with wisps of his blue flame for a moment, before he nodded and opened his eyes. "It would take me a few moments, but I could help you. I could provide the "base" of the construct, and you could layer over it. No worrying about burning anything, either. Then I can just carry everything."

"What is the closest border of the Empire that would provide a place all of you could comfortably survive? I'm not dumping everyone in the middle of the woods or anything like that." The large man in blue didn't seem at all phased by the idea of moving this many people so far. "Seriously. Papercut can make the, ah, "carriage". I seriously doubt it'll weigh so much I can't carry it. And I can fly pretty fast, all things considered. I bet I could have you at the best spot outside the Empire by sunrise, or shortly after. But if keeping you here means things would be worse than taking you, that's what's happening. I want to avoid as much death as possible." He turned to the king again. He almost stood to grab him and toss him in the opposite corner, but figured that was probably not going to be helpful. He turned to face knight and squire again. "I...I can't make anyone leave, I guess. But I'd really appreciate it if you guys could point me in the right direction, and then help me convince all these people to go along with my idea." He frowned more deeply in thought. 'Biggest worry is dealing with the folks outside. Hm....'

Cobalt Templar had, on the ride over, taken the time to "soften" his appearance. Instead of massive armor plating, he was wearing a deceptively simple outfit that was mostly blue, with his typical maroon highlights in various places, and a solid maroon cape. Still impressive, but less...combative. For a change he let the others talk, especially with the Headmaster present, and instead took in the scenery. The choice to let the campus run a bit less "trimmed" was odd, but it didn't totally detract from the look. Seemed a bit more tightly packed than Claremont, though. 'Wonder if they try to run a stricter operation here, or if it's just a space-saving thing.' The artist in him appreciated the vague symmetry of the design, and the contrast of "developed world" and "untamed forest", though.

Gabriel closed his eyes and sighed. Carrie had no subtly at all... "Chancellor, sir. Please understand this: there is no way we can't be involved at this point. If nothing else, my conscience as a Catholic means I have to try and find out who's doing this. Beyond that...you may very well need our help. Think about it. Right now, we 3 know something's going on. There are others who know: the conspirators. You need allies, sir. We are those allies. While Carrie may not show the same...deference...to the Church as I, I will vouch that she is as committed as both of us to seeing this thing through. Beyond that..." He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep, pained sigh. "I have seen before the dangers of refusing any outside help when investigating dark, secret things. For the sake of the Church, for the sake of all the sheep in the flock, please, let us help. We are hunting wolves, Chancellor. It would be best for the sheepdogs to work together."

"Anyone protected by us in that room will have no political power, as far as I'm concerned." With that, he took off down the hall with the rest of them. He played rear-guard, his eyes vigilant for any threat, whatever shape it might take. When they got to the room where the non-combatants were holed up, for just a moment his face was an expression of sadness. 'This country will know nothing but upheaval and violence for decades to come...' The sadness burned away to anger when he saw the king ranting through a window. A king clearly in good enough shape he should be helping in the fight, if he was so angry. "You're the overlord of nothing, Fala. And you're certainly not nearly deific enough that rebelling against you is blasphemy. Now, if you're not going to actually go out there and help the men fighting, bleeding, and dying for your sake, maybe you could sit yourself in a corner and be quiet?" His gaze fell on Sir Connor, whom he walked over to and knelt next to. "Glad to see the two of you are alive. Look. I...I can't in good conscience just help beat back the chimps. There's...there's too much that they've got a right to be angry about. But I won't let anyone in here be hurt, so long as they don't try to run out and fight. But...Is there someplace I can take all of you? Some neutral town or something? I have a feeling it would be best if we thought of someplace that would give you all sanctuary...but not active military support."