KnightDisciple

At the far end of the parking lot, a plain-looking sedan pulled up and parked; pretty clearly a rental car. A teenage boy got out on the passenger side, while the driver proved to be a woman somewhere around 30 (but one never demands specifics from a lady). The former looked very unsure, an emotion that seemed to increase when viewing the gathering not that far away. The woman, who shared some family resemblance, just smiled. "Micah, it's okay. I know this is all overwhelming." "How do you know, though? I mean..." "I went to the Air Force Academy, remember? It's not the same, but it's close enough. Now, is that everything?" Micah, as it was revealed, was wearing a sturdy backpack, had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and a large rolling suitcase held in each hand. A guitar case was lashed to the larger of the two suitcases. The young man gave a slight smile and let out a soft, shaky breath. "Yeah, I think that got it, Aunt Janet." "Oh my gosh stop I feel old, cousin." An innocent, mystified look. "But...you are?" His cousin snorted and ruffled his hair, before grabbing him in a fierce hug that he returned. "You take care here, okay? Stay out of trouble. Call if you need anything. I don't care if the local growly-cape person is bird-themed, you know I've trained with the best. You need help, I'll come, okay?" "Okay, okay. I'll call Mom tonight when I'm settled and then I'll call you. Fly safe, okay?" "Always do, cousin." With one more hug, they part ways, the young man watching her pull out and drive off, exchanging waves one last time, before he sighed. This was it, the moment of truth. Gripping his bags, Micah turned around and started slowly walking toward the school entrance. Which meant he'd pass right by that big knot of students. Maybe if he just walked quietly they'd ignore him?

Player Name: KnightDisciple Character Name: Thunderbird Power Level: 14 (built as PL 10; 156/229PP) Trade-Offs: +2 Attack/-2 Damage [Melee], -2 Attack/+2 Damage [Lightning], +4 Defense/-4 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 73PP In Brief: Young weather controller seeking to learn to control his powers, and maybe see a bit more of the world beyond Oklahoma. Residence: Claremont Academy, Freedom City [School year]; Bartlesville, OK, USA [Summer/Family home] Base of Operations: Claremont Academy Alternate Identity: Micah Roebuck Identity: Secret Birthplace: Tahlequah, OK, USA Occupation: High School Student Affiliations: Claremont Academy Students Family: Lawrence Roebuck [Father, Deceased], Amelia Roebuck [Mother]; William Herrington [Maternal Uncle], Tess Herrington [Aunt], Janet Herrington [Cousin, informally called "Aunt" by Micah; also the superhero Stormchaser, member of the Barnstormers] Description: Age: 17 (August 2002) Male: Ethnicity: Cherokee [born member of the Cherokee Nation] Height: 5'9" Weight: 155 lbs. Eyes: Dark Brown; Electric Green when using his powers Hair: Black Micah is the picture of a still-growing teenage boy; his frame is somewhere between "lanky" and "filled out", but he's been told he's still got some growing to do. His father was over 6 feet tall, after all. Micah's hair tends to be kept short right now, mostly due to his mother wanting him to look good for "that nice school out East". His skin bears a fair deal of tanning, but other than a small scar on the back of his left hand ("accident in the kitchen with a can of beans"), is free of marks or blemishes. Micah tends to wear rugged clothes, with a preference for jeans and thicker t-shirts, complimented by a denim jacket. If dressing up, he does have a simple black suit, which he wears surprisingly well, but those on-campus may well never see him in it. He owns a couple of ribbon shirts, but is leery of wearing them for fear of looking "too stereotypical". As Thunderbird, he currently wears a sleeveless version of the Claremont uniform, complimented with fingerless gloves, a sturdy bandanna across his mouth, and a large, sturdy pair of goggles that cover his eyes and give protection against possible debris and irritants. Power Descriptions: Micah possess the metahuman ability to control weather. This typically manifests as him summoning up winds, lightning, and perhaps rain or hail. The lightning he directly summons is often tinged green, apparently a "tell" that it is artificially summoned; if he manipulates the weather as a whole to create conditions that support lightning, those strikes will look normal. When manipulating weather on a large scale, he sometimes manifests an aura colored like the Aurora Borealis. When flying above 100 miles an hour, he begins to manifest the same effect, but focused into a pair of wing-like shapes. Micah's control over wind is particularly excellent, enough to allow him to utilize it as a "speed booster" alongside bursts of ionic energy, such that even aside from flight itself, he is capable of delivering a high-speed barrage of blows. As an adaptation for this and for high-speed flight in general, his ability to process and react to information is high above the average person. As well, his body has adapted itself to function not only at high speeds, but high altitudes. Beyond high-speed strikes and blasts of lightning, Micah has one last option to bring directly against an opponent in a fight. He calls it the "Borealis Burst", since the manifestation includes a large burst of light similar to the Aurora. This veritable explosion of lightning, thunder, and wind is liable to knock over most any opponent while also given them more than one kind of headache. All of these things are accomplished, at their core, by Micah's powers manipulating ionization of the air, temperature patterns, and the rate of condensation in an area. By wildly changing these factors far outside the normal, natural rates, he is capable of manifesting and manipulating weather in the blink of an eye. By channeling these manipulations to himself, he achieves his flight, speed, and other close-range abilities. History: Micah grew up knowing where he came from. Where his parents, and their parents before them, came from. What his people had been through, but also what they were working to become. Micah was, if not immersed in Cherokee culture, very much exposed to and living in it all of his life. His father worked for the Cherokee Marshal Services, and his mother still works as a teacher of both the Cherokee language, and literature classes at the high school level. His grandparents on his father's side live on a farm well outside of Oklahoma City, and his mother's parents live on the outskirts of Muskogee, still helping run a local store for both Native American and tourist customers. Micah himself was born in Tahlequah, to a pair of loving, humble parents. He grew up knowing the traditions he came from, and was taught Cherokee and English in almost the same breaths. He went to school with only Cherokee kids during his younger years, and that was a grand old time. Then Lawrence Roebuck had a heart attack and died right before Micah would have gone to middle school. In the aftermath of the loss, Micah and his mother ended up moving to Bartlesville, to live with his Aunt and Uncle William and Tess. And his cousin Janet, whose older age had Micah referring to her as "Aunt Janet" (much to her vexation) was Micah's largest role model. He'd always been interested in cars, bikes, and other machines with engines, but her career in the Air Force piqued his interest in flying machines, especially jets. And his lanky frame lent itself well to the running that his Aunt Janet had done in her own time on the track team. However, while the presence of family helped heal some wounds, middle school made others on its own. For the first time, Micah was not in a Cherokee-only school, and his first encounters with children outside the tight-knit sphere of the Cherokee Nation was...mixed. Amelia tried to find a way to get him back into the old school system, but couldn't find a way for them to both stay in Bartlesville and get him into a Cherokee-only school. It wasn't long before he found himself clashing with the much more intensely clique-centric culture around him, and enduring more than a few rounds of teasing based on his background, as if one town in Oklahoma was that significantly different from another. While certainly not the same scope of problems and struggles others of his ancestry might face, for a young boy they were difficult things indeed. Micah withdrew from most all of his schoolmates, mostly spending time with those who came from the Nation or one of the other Tribes in Oklahoma (the city drew people from fairly wide backgrounds and areas in the state, all things considered). He kept his mouth shut and smiling at home; his mother was working more hours, not only teaching but also tutoring, to help make ends meet. William and Tess were doing what they could, but times were lean even for them; Janet would send back money sometimes, but William and Tess typically rejected the gesture if it wasn't to help with a particular bill. So Micah got to add being a poor kid, who didn't have a dad, to the list of things he was teased for and just bottled up. When he got to junior high, Micah joined the track and field team, looking to use sports as at least something of an escape; the school didn't have an auto club, and trying to copy his "aunt" was the next best thing. While Janet had been a distance runner and jumper, Micah found himself excelling at sprinting and the discus. He wasn't necessarily a shoe-in to get the gold at state, but he did well enough that some of the social pressure eased up, even if just by virtue of more attention in general being on him. After a while, he even started to make friends with the various boys on the track team. Even if they occasionally asked insensitive questions or told jokes that just made him flinch; at least they'd apologize for them when he told them why. Micah opened up, just a bit. He even talked to his mom about what he'd gone through in middle school, and endured The Talk from her. Micah's freshman year was when things changed. Just as spring turned and they were entering the "final stretch" of the year, and as the track team was going to the regional meet that would set them up for state, things changed. The night after the meet, a supercell storm cropped up when, by all rights, it should have been a cool, clear night. The heroine Stormchaser raced to the scene, and diffused a tornado before it touched down, less than a mile from Micah's hotel. However, when two more funnels tried to form, Stormchaser realized that, intentionally or not, someone in the area was using powers similar to hers. She could "taste" the ionization in the air, could tell it was working similar, but not the same, as hers. After almost an hour, Stormchaser felt the last ebbs of the power stop, and the storm calm into a normal rainstorm, instead of what could have been the most destructive storm of the year. Two days later she got a frantic call from her parents about how she needed to talk to Micah. He finished the year out at school, but as soon as track was done, any and all after-school activities stopped. He grew distant from the friends he'd made, keeping in touch mainly with texts. Finally, they found out he was going to some fancy school out East the next year, his sophomore year; some of his friends grew angry, others promised to stay in touch. None of them were told the truth: that Micah had awakened an enormously powerful gift that he needed help learning to control, help that his cousin couldn't dedicate to help him. So instead, he was going to attend Claremont Academy. Personality & Motivation: Micah is a young man who's almost desperate to figure out his place in the world. His life has had multiple upsets, and this latest one, of both gaining great and terrible power and then moving half a country away from his family and friends, has left him all but reeling. In response, he turns inward, seeking to focus on schoolwork, working on a car (if he can manage it), or perhaps playing on his guitar somewhere no one (supposedly) can find him. There are times he seeks out or "allows" himself to be put in extroverted situations, but the motivation is difficult. When it comes to his actual schoolwork, Micah is determined to excel, to prove any of the jerks from years ago wrong about how stupid he is. Even if he doesn't get flawless grades, his determination means he rarely falls behind. One of Micah's core motivating ideas is "living up to the legacy" of both his father and his cousin. His father was a good, just, kind man who made his mother happy and taught him everything he could in the time they had together. His cousin is a veteran and a superhero, someone casually at ease with both, and who, despite wielding enormous power, is more than willing to spend time with family, friends, and even random people, just to make their day better. Micah often measures himself against what he imagines either of them might do in a situation, which of course leaves him falling short and frustrated. Micah tends to be very level-headed and slow to anger; years of dealing with bullies and ignorant folks means he has practice with patience (as his mother likes to say). However, if pushed to anger, he gets angry, and is somewhat likely to get physical. The same levelheadedness meas he tends to be very reserved in general; unfortunately, the same principle of "holding it down until it bursts forth" holds true, especially with him being in the roaring midst of puberty. Micah's emotions tend to spike a bit if he's pushed past a certain point. Which can be a bad combination with his powers. His patience for ignorant questions from clueless people is present, but by no means endless, and if he senses he is being intentionally mocked, it quickly shortens his temper. Before getting his powers, Micah wanted to be a pilot like his cousin. After getting his powers, he found himself unsure if that's still his dream, since he can fly on his own now. He knows what he likes to do, but isn't sure if those hobbies are where he wants to take his career. Despite everyone telling him he has years before he needs to decide, he is already feeling pressure within himself to decide a path and start preparing for it. Some of Micah's favorite musicians and groups include Johnny Cash, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, and other classic country, bluegrass, and rock artists and groups; more recently he's been trying out genres like metal or modern rock, though he's reluctant to pick favorites just yet. Powers & Tactics: If pushed to fight, Micah tends to be quiet and focused, sometimes to his detriment; he has a tendency to doggedly work on something until it's done, be it a term paper or a single opponent in a fight. This mono-focus means he handles single opponents well, but when dealing with larger groups of foes, he can have a few moments of indecision. His primary tools in a fight are his rapid-fire strikes with his arms and legs, and his potent blasts of lightning. Often he opens up from a distance with the lightning, and only starts trying to punch people when they've closed the distance; Thunderbird's powers lend themselves to working at a distance, and he has had little reason to decide to do otherwise. If engaged in melee, Micah tends to start with what he views as the easiest target, and try to use his superior speed and maneuverability to quickly dispatch a great number of enemies. If faced with a situation where he needs to shift things in favor of the heroes rapidly, or perhaps do something like cover an escape, he will rapidly and dramatically shift the weather in an area (albeit one smaller than what his cousin can affect) to impede his foes. He's reluctant to use this in the course of a normal fight, but depending on the situation he can apply it with just enough finesse to avoid too much friendly fire. The Borealis Burst, though, is very consciously a measure of last resort. Not only does it leave him drained, but the area it affects is larger even than his general control over the weather. The fact that it leaves deafened, disoriented, and knocked-down targets of its indiscriminate shockwave in his wake means he's barely even tried generating this burst of power. Thunderbird is unlikely to deploy this unless he has no other choice that he can discern. Beyond his offensive powers and approach, Thunderbird is a blindingly fast flyer whose body and mind can naturally adapt to the heights and speeds he achieves, though he has found he needs goggles to keep his eyes from being damaged by high-speed but minuscule debris. Complications: Thunder Rolls and Lightning Strikes: Micah's patience is rather good for a teenage boy, but it's not infinite, and when it begins to wear thin, he is likely to have an explosive outburst of anger. This may cause friction with his team, distract him in a fight, or even briefly surge his powers out of his control. Every Nightmare Blown Away: Micah's control over his powers is currently nearly non-existent while asleep. Most nights this is a non-issue; his dreams are calm and disassociated enough no real changes happen in local weather patterns. But if he experiences intensely emotional dreams, especially nightmares, it can radically and dangerously shift the weather. To prevent destruction brought on by indigestion-induced bad dreams, Micah must wear special power-dampening bands around his head, wrists, and ankles. These bands are easy to remove (1 full action), but until all of them are off his powers won't function properly, or at all, leaving him a fairly mundane human being. Every Storm Runs Out of Rain: Micah's powers work in most any outdoor conditions, seeing as they can manipulate the environment to produce weather. However, if he finds himself in a tightly-closed system (such as a hermetically sealed building, a spaceship or station, or inside some kind of powerful shield or the like), he may have difficulty manifesting the full measure of his powers. Cold Kentucky Rain: While Micah's powers work in most extremes, sufficiently low temperatures may also impede his powers, more so than extreme heat. If it's cold enough, his speed might drop and his lightning struggle to work, though Micah would likely be able to manipulate any existing weather and moisture in that environment. Whirlwind in the Thorn Tree: Micah's powers can sometimes cause more damage in an area than expected. High-speed winds can be extremely dangerous, and if there's sufficient debris around, any wide-area usage of Micah's powers risks possibly shredding friend and foe alike, something that might well stay the weather controller's hand at using such power at all. Sky Is Falling Through: Controlling the weather is tricky at the best of times. While Micah's speed and thunderbolts are no real risk, his manipulation of wider weather area, as well as the Borealis Burst, run the risk of getting carried away even when their effects normally fade. Given just the right combination of factors, a pocket of weather created and molded by Micah may not fade, but instead grow out of control when released from his "grip", growing into a full storm of its own right; sometimes this artificial storm may horribly mismatch the existing weather patterns, or just build on what was there already. Song of a Summertime Storm: Micah is a young man of a heritage that's pretty rare in Freedom City, far from home and family, struggling to maintain not only his own secret identity, but more importantly his cousin's secret identity. That's a lot of balls for a kid to juggle. Abilities: 4 + 8 + 4 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 22PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 18 (+4) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 12 (+2) Combat: 12 + 16 = 28PP Initiative: +8 Attack: +6 Base, +8 Melee, +8 Lightning, +12 Flying Fists Grapple: +10 Defense: +14 (+8 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -3/-2 Saving Throws: 6 + 5 + 7 = 18PP Toughness: +6 (+2 Con, +2 Costume, +2 Defensive Roll) Fortitude: +8 (+2 Con, +6) Reflex: +9 (+4 Dex, +5) Will: +8 (+1 Wis, +7) Skills: 88R = 22PP Acrobatics 10 (+14) Bluff 8 (+9) Craft (Electronic) 10 (+11) Craft (Mechanical) 10 (+11) Drive 8 (+12) Knowledge (Current Events) 4 (+5) Knowledge (History) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Popular Culture) 7 (+8) Knowledge (Technology) 8 (+9) Languages 1 (Cherokee [Native], English) Notice 10 (+11) Perform (Stringed Instrument) 4 (+5) Feats: 20PP All-Out Attack Attack Focus (Melee) 2 Defensive Roll 1 Dodge Focus 6 Equipment 1 (5EP) Evasion 1 Improved Initiative 1 Luck Move-By-Action Power Attack Set-Up Takedown Attack 2 Uncanny Dodge (visual) Equipment: 2 + 3 = 5EP Costume: Protection 2 [2EP] Goggles: Immunity 1 (eye irritants); Super-Senses 2 (Visual; Counters Obscure [clouds/fog]) [3EP] Powers: 13 + 28 + 1 + 2 + 2 = 46PP Flight 6 (500MPH, Power Feats: Moving Feint) [13PP] High Flier Array 12.5 (25PP, Power Feats: Alternate Power 3) [28PP] Base: Damage 6 (Extras: Area [Targeted, Burst] [8], Selective Attack [8] Power Feats: Accurate 2, Mighty) [25PP] (Bludgeoning, Air/Wind) ("Borealist Blitz") AP: Damage 12 (Extras: Ranged, Power Feats: Accurate 1) [25PP] (Electricity/Lightning) ("Green Lightning") AP: Damage 10 (Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Dazzle], Flaws: Action [Full Action], Tiring, Power Feats: Progression 10 [Area, Max 20 mile radius) [15PP] + Dazzle 10 (auditory and visual, Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Damage], Flaws: Action [Full Action], Range [Touch], Tiring) [10PP] (Electricity/Lightning, Sonic) (Borealis Burst) AP: Environmental Control 6 (24PP, Mix-and-Match Environments: Cold, Distraction, Hamper Movement (High Winds, Icy or West Surfaces), Heat, Reduced Visibility [Precipitation]; Extras: Independent [+0], Power Feats: Reversible [Maximum Radius 250ft]) [25PP] (Weather) ("Stir the Storm") Immunity 1 (high altitudes) [1PP] Power Reserve 1 (2PP; Flight [up to 7 (1,000 MPH/10,000 feet/round)] or Quickness [up to 4 (x25)]) [2PP] Quickness 2 (x5) [2PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Borealis Blitz Touch DC 23 Toughness Damage [Physical] Green Lightning Ranged DC 27 Toughness Damage [Energy] Borealis Burst Area DC 25 Toughness Damage [Energy] Borealis Burst Area DC 20 Reflex Blinded, Deafened [Energy] Totals: Abilities (22) + Combat (28) + Saving Throws (18) + Skills (22) + Feats (20) + Powers (46) = 156/229 Power Points

Under his helmet, Corbin Hughes snarled. He hated the Terminus. He'd fought them before; not as long as he'd faced other foes, but the scars and memories of the events of Claremont's graduation day those many (to him) years ago were seared in his mind. He'd bled during that conflict. He'd seen horrors; he sometimes still woke at night, the image of a Terminus Zombie version of his fiancee hanging in front of his eyes. Quo-Dis had comforted him when she could; either gentle touches on his shoulder, or soothing telepathic sensations from half a continent away. And he'd gotten better, he had. He'd spent more time in therapy about his experiences on a war-torn Earth than about those few days gallivanting around a handful of timelines. But some nights, he still remembered that terrible, flaming figure, and he couldn't help but wake soaked in sweat and with tears streaming from his eyes. And now? Now some stapled-together doom-engine murder-bot was trying to help tear apart his city and his world, and kill his neighbors. "NO!" His power-fist rose up and slammed home, sinking below the armored plates of the thing, the crackling energy burning away the ichor to a sickly powder that floated away on the breeze. "I struck down your master! I helped kill Omega! I refuse to lose to you!" His great, burning blade rose again and slammed down, into the thing, before being ripped out and sideways, as Cobalt Templar sought to do nothing less than tear the creature apart. "FALL!"

Name: Micah Roebuck Codename: Thunderbird Year: Sophomore Pronouns: He/Him (Masculine) Roommate: Roll ze dice! Goal: Get a handle on his powers and get to know some of these East Coast kids. Favourite High School Movie: The Karate Kid, the original one. Cheesy as heck, but Pat Morita is great, and there's something about a film about an outsider who isn't just a stereotypical nerd-type.

Well, I don't need to move, but I will attack! Same shifts as above; PA +/-5, AOA +/-5 Melee Attack: 30. DC 34 (15+14+5) Toughness Save (I think the saves on CT's sheet are out of date).

Still a work in progress, but this is me hitting self-appointed "requirements": -Has powers instead of a device or primarily trianing/skills -Can be animal inspired/"totem" -I don't have to work too hard for the sheet -Powerset that's different from what I've had before And so on. The build itself is blatantly stealing from Gizmo's Rainbow Dash build.

Player Name: KnightDisciple Character Name: Thunderbird Power Level: 10 (150/150PP) Trade-Offs: +2 Attack/-2 Damage [Melee], -2 Attack/+2 Damage [Lightning], +4 Defense/-4 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 0 In Brief: Young weather controller seeking to learn to control his powers, and maybe see a bit more of the world beyond Oklahoma. Residence: Claremont Academy, Freedom City [School year]; Bartlesville, OK, USA [Summer/Family home] Base of Operations: Claremont Academy Alternate Identity: Micah Roebuck Identity: Secret Birthplace: Tahlequah, OK, USA Occupation: High School Student Affiliations: Claremont Academy Students Family: Lawrence Roebuck [Father, Deceased], Amelia Roebuck [Mother]; William Herrington [Maternal Uncle], Tess Herrington [Aunt], Janet Herrington [Cousin, informally called "Aunt" by Micah; also the superhero Stormchaser, member of the Barnstormers] Description: Age: 16 (August 2002) Male: Ethnicity: Cherokee [born member of the Cherokee Nation] Height: 5'9" Weight: 155 lbs. Eyes: Dark Brown; Electric Green when using his powers Hair: Black Micah is the picture of a still-growing teenage boy; his frame is somewhere between "lanky" and "filled out", but he's been told he's still got some growing to do. His father was over 6 feet tall, after all. Micah's hair tends to be kept short right now, mostly due to his mother wanting him to look good for "that nice school out East". His skin bears a fair deal of tanning, but other than a small scar on the back of his left hand ("accident in the kitchen with a can of beans"), is free of marks or blemishes. Micah tends to wear rugged clothes, with a preference for jeans and thicker t-shirts, complimented by a denim jacket. If dressing up, he does have a simple black suit, which he wears surprisingly well, but those on-campus may well never see him in it. He owns a couple of ribbon shirts, but is leery of wearing them for fear of looking "too stereotypical". As Thunderbird, he currently wears a sleeveless version of the Claremont uniform, complimented with fingerless gloves, a sturdy bandanna across his mouth, and a large, sturdy pair of goggles that cover his eyes and give protection against possible debris and irritants. Power Descriptions: Micah possess the metahuman ability to control weather. This typically manifests as him summoning up winds, lightning, and perhaps rain or hail. The lightning he directly summons is often tinged green, apparently a "tell" that it is artificially summoned; if he manipulates the weather as a whole to create conditions that support lightning, those strikes will look normal. When manipulating weather on a large scale, he sometimes manifests an aura colored like the Aurora Borealis. When flying above 100 miles an hour, he begins to manifest the same effect, but focused into a pair of wing-like shapes. Micah's control over wind is particularly excellent, enough to allow him to utilize it as a "speed booster" alongside bursts of ionic energy, such that even aside from flight itself, he is capable of delivering a high-speed barrage of blows. As an adaptation for this and for high-speed flight in general, his ability to process and react to information is high above the average person. As well, his body has adapted itself to function not only at high speeds, but high altitudes. Beyond high-speed strikes and blasts of lightning, Micah has one last option to bring directly against an opponent in a fight. He calls it the "Borealis Burst", since the manifestation includes a large burst of light similar to the Aurora. This veritable explosion of lightning, thunder, and wind is liable to knock over most any opponent while also given them more than one kind of headache. All of these things are accomplished, at their core, by Micah's powers manipulating ionization of the air, temperature patterns, and the rate of condensation in an area. By wildly changing these factors far outside the normal, natural rates, he is capable of manifesting and manipulating weather in the blink of an eye. By channeling these manipulations to himself, he achieves his flight, speed, and other close-range abilities. History: Micah grew up knowing where he came from. Where his parents, and their parents before them, came from. What his people had been through, but also what they were working to become. Micah was, if not immersed in Cherokee culture, very much exposed to and living in it all of his life. His father worked for the Cherokee Marshal Services, and his mother still works as a teacher of both the Cherokee language, and literature classes at the high school level. His grandparents on his father's side live on a farm well outside of Oklahoma City, and his mother's parents live on the outskirts of Muskogee, still helping run a local store for both Native American and tourist customers. Micah himself was born in Tahlequah, to a pair of loving, humble parents. He grew up knowing the traditions he came from, and was taught Cherokee and English in almost the same breaths. He went to school with only Cherokee kids during his younger years, and that was a grand old time. Then Lawrence Roebuck had a heart attack and died right before Micah would have gone to middle school. In the aftermath of the loss, Micah and his mother ended up moving to Bartlesville, to live with his Aunt and Uncle William and Tess. And his cousin Janet, whose older age had Micah referring to her as "Aunt Janet" (much to her vexation) was Micah's largest role model. He'd always been interested in cars, bikes, and other machines with engines, but her career in the Air Force piqued his interest in flying machines, especially jets. And his lanky frame lent itself well to the running that his Aunt Janet had done in her own time on the track team. However, while the presence of family helped heal some wounds, middle school made others on its own. For the first time, Micah was not in a Cherokee-only school, and his first encounters with children outside the tight-knit sphere of the Cherokee Nation was...mixed. Amelia tried to find a way to get him back into the old school system, but couldn't find a way for them to both stay in Bartlesville and get him into a Cherokee-only school. It wasn't long before he found himself clashing with the much more intensely clique-centric culture around him, and enduring more than a few rounds of teasing based on his background, as if one town in Oklahoma was that significantly different from another. While certainly not the same scope of problems and struggles others of his ancestry might face, for a young boy they were difficult things indeed. Micah withdrew from most all of his schoolmates, mostly spending time with those who came from the Nation or one of the other Tribes in Oklahoma (the city drew people from fairly wide backgrounds and areas in the state, all things considered). He kept his mouth shut and smiling at home; his mother was working more hours, not only teaching but also tutoring, to help make ends meet. William and Tess were doing what they could, but times were lean even for them; Janet would send back money sometimes, but William and Tess typically rejected the gesture if it wasn't to help with a particular bill. So Micah got to add being a poor kid, who didn't have a dad, to the list of things he was teased for and just bottled up. When he got to junior high, Micah joined the track and field team, looking to use sports as at least something of an escape; the school didn't have an auto club, and trying to copy his "aunt" was the next best thing. While Janet had been a distance runner and jumper, Micah found himself excelling at sprinting and the discus. He wasn't necessarily a shoe-in to get the gold at state, but he did well enough that some of the social pressure eased up, even if just by virtue of more attention in general being on him. After a while, he even started to make friends with the various boys on the track team. Even if they occasionally asked insensitive questions or told jokes that just made him flinch; at least they'd apologize for them when he told them why. Micah opened up, just a bit. He even talked to his mom about what he'd gone through in middle school, and endured The Talk from her. Micah's freshman year was when things changed. Just as spring turned and they were entering the "final stretch" of the year, and as the track team was going to the regional meet that would set them up for state, things changed. The night after the meet, a supercell storm cropped up when, by all rights, it should have been a cool, clear night. The heroine Stormchaser raced to the scene, and diffused a tornado before it touched down, less than a mile from Micah's hotel. However, when two more funnels tried to form, Stormchaser realized that, intentionally or not, someone in the area was using powers similar to hers. She could "taste" the ionization in the air, could tell it was working similar, but not the same, as hers. After almost an hour, Stormchaser felt the last ebbs of the power stop, and the storm calm into a normal rainstorm, instead of what could have been the most destructive storm of the year. Two days later she got a frantic call from her parents about how she needed to talk to Micah. He finished the year out at school, but as soon as track was done, any and all after-school activities stopped. He grew distant from the friends he'd made, keeping in touch mainly with texts. Finally, they found out he was going to some fancy school out East the next year, his sophomore year; some of his friends grew angry, others promised to stay in touch. None of them were told the truth: that Micah had awakened an enormously powerful gift that he needed help learning to control, help that his cousin couldn't dedicate to help him. So instead, he was going to attend Claremont Academy. Personality & Motivation: Micah is a young man who's almost desperate to figure out his place in the world. His life has had multiple upsets, and this latest one, of both gaining great and terrible power and then moving half a country away from his family and friends, has left him all but reeling. In response, he turns inward, seeking to focus on schoolwork, working on a car (if he can manage it), or perhaps playing on his guitar somewhere no one (supposedly) can find him. There are times he seeks out or "allows" himself to be put in extroverted situations, but the motivation is difficult. When it comes to his actual schoolwork, Micah is determined to excel, to prove any of the jerks from years ago wrong about how stupid he is. Even if he doesn't get flawless grades, his determination means he rarely falls behind. One of Micah's core motivating ideas is "living up to the legacy" of both his father and his cousin. His father was a good, just, kind man who made his mother happy and taught him everything he could in the time they had together. His cousin is a veteran and a superhero, someone casually at ease with both, and who, despite wielding enormous power, is more than willing to spend time with family, friends, and even random people, just to make their day better. Micah often measures himself against what he imagines either of them might do in a situation, which of course leaves him falling short and frustrated. Micah tends to be very level-headed and slow to anger; years of dealing with bullies and ignorant folks means he has practice with patience (as his mother likes to say). However, if pushed to anger, he gets angry, and is somewhat likely to get physical. The same levelheadedness meas he tends to be very reserved in general; unfortunately, the same principle of "holding it down until it bursts forth" holds true, especially with him being in the roaring midst of puberty. Micah's emotions tend to spike a bit if he's pushed past a certain point. Which can be a bad combination with his powers. His patience for ignorant questions from clueless people is present, but by no means endless, and if he senses he is being intentionally mocked, it quickly shortens his temper. Before getting his powers, Micah wanted to be a pilot like his cousin. After getting his powers, he found himself unsure if that's still his dream, since he can fly on his own now. He knows what he likes to do, but isn't sure if those hobbies are where he wants to take his career. Despite everyone telling him he has years before he needs to decide, he is already feeling pressure within himself to decide a path and start preparing for it. Some of Micah's favorite musicians and groups include Johnny Cash, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, and other classic country, bluegrass, and rock artists and groups; more recently he's been trying out genres like metal or modern rock, though he's reluctant to pick favorites just yet. Powers & Tactics: If pushed to fight, Micah tends to be quiet and focused, sometimes to his detriment; he has a tendency to doggedly work on something until it's done, be it a term paper or a single opponent in a fight. This mono-focus means he handles single opponents well, but when dealing with larger groups of foes, he can have a few moments of indecision. His primary tools in a fight are his rapid-fire strikes with his arms and legs, and his potent blasts of lightning. Often he opens up from a distance with the lightning, and only starts trying to punch people when they've closed the distance; Thunderbird's powers lend themselves to working at a distance, and he has had little reason to decide to do otherwise. If engaged in melee, Micah tends to start with what he views as the easiest target, and try to use his superior speed and maneuverability to quickly dispatch a great number of enemies. If faced with a situation where he needs to shift things in favor of the heroes rapidly, or perhaps do something like cover an escape, he will rapidly and dramatically shift the weather in an area (albeit one smaller than what his cousin can affect) to impede his foes. He's reluctant to use this in the course of a normal fight, but depending on the situation he can apply it with just enough finesse to avoid too much friendly fire. The Borealis Burst, though, is very consciously a measure of last resort. Not only does it leave him drained, but the area it affects is larger even than his general control over the weather. The fact that it leaves deafened, disoriented, and knocked-down targets of its indiscriminate shockwave in his wake means he's barely even tried generating this burst of power. Thunderbird is unlikely to deploy this unless he has no other choice that he can discern. Beyond his offensive powers and approach, Thunderbird is a blindingly fast flyer whose body and mind can naturally adapt to the heights and speeds he achieves, though he has found he needs goggles to keep his eyes from being damaged by high-speed but minuscule debris. Complications: Thunder Rolls and Lightning Strikes: Micah's patience is rather good for a teenage boy, but it's not infinite, and when it begins to wear thin, he is likely to have an explosive outburst of anger. This may cause friction with his team, distract him in a fight, or even briefly surge his powers out of his control. Every Nightmare Blown Away: Micah's control over his powers is currently nearly non-existent while asleep. Most nights this is a non-issue; his dreams are calm and disassociated enough no real changes happen in local weather patterns. But if he experiences intensely emotional dreams, especially nightmares, it can radically and dangerously shift the weather. To prevent destruction brought on by indigestion-induced bad dreams, Micah must wear special power-dampening bands around his head, wrists, and ankles. These bands are easy to remove (1 full action), but until all of them are off his powers won't function properly, or at all, leaving him a fairly mundane human being. Every Storm Runs Out of Rain: Micah's powers work in most any outdoor conditions, seeing as they can manipulate the environment to produce weather. However, if he finds himself in a tightly-closed system (such as a hermetically sealed building, a spaceship or station, or inside some kind of powerful shield or the like), he may have difficulty manifesting the full measure of his powers. Cold Kentucky Rain: While Micah's powers work in most extremes, sufficiently low temperatures may also impede his powers, more so than extreme heat. If it's cold enough, his speed might drop and his lightning struggle to work, though Micah would likely be able to manipulate any existing weather and moisture in that environment. Whirlwind in the Thorn Tree: Micah's powers can sometimes cause more damage in an area than expected. High-speed winds can be extremely dangerous, and if there's sufficient debris around, any wide-area usage of Micah's powers risks possibly shredding friend and foe alike, something that might well stay the weather controller's hand at using such power at all. Sky Is Falling Through: Controlling the weather is tricky at the best of times. While Micah's speed and thunderbolts are no real risk, his manipulation of wider weather area, as well as the Borealis Burst, run the risk of getting carried away even when their effects normally fade. Given just the right combination of factors, a pocket of weather created and molded by Micah may not fade, but instead grow out of control when released from his "grip", growing into a full storm of its own right; sometimes this artificial storm may horribly mismatch the existing weather patterns, or just build on what was there already. Song of a Summertime Storm: Micah is a young man of a heritage that's pretty rare in Freedom City, far from home and family, struggling to maintain not only his own secret identity, but more importantly his cousin's secret identity. That's a lot of balls for a kid to juggle. Abilities: 4 + 8 + 4 + 2 + 0 + 2 = 20PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 18 (+4) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 10 (+0) Charisma: 12 (+2) Combat: 12 + 16 = 28PP Initiative: +8 Attack: +6 Base, +8 Melee, +8 Lightning, +12 Flying Fists Grapple: +10 Defense: +14 (+8 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -3/-2 Saving Throws: 6 + 5 + 7 = 18PP Toughness: +6 (+2 Con, +2 Costume, +2 Defensive Roll) Fortitude: +8 (+2 Con, +6) Reflex: +9 (+4 Dex, +5) Will: +7 (+0Wis, +7) Skills: 72R = 18PP Acrobatics 10 (+14) Bluff 8 (+9) Craft (Mechanical) 8 (+9) Craft (Electrical) 4 (+5) Drive 8 (+12) Knowledge (Current Events) 4 (+5) Knowledge (History) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Popular Culture) 7 (+8) Languages 1 (Cherokee [Native], English) Notice 10 (+10) Perform (Stringed Instrument) 4 (+5) Feats: 20PP All-Out Attack Attack Focus (Melee) 2 Defensive Roll 1 Dodge Focus 6 Equipment 1 (5EP) Evasion 1 Improved Initiative 1 Luck Move-By-Action Power Attack Set-Up Takedown Attack 2 Uncanny Dodge (visual) Equipment: 2 + 3 = 5EP Costume: Protection 2 [2EP] Goggles: Immunity 1 (eye irritants); Super-Senses 2 (Visual; Counters Obscure [clouds/fog]) [3EP] Powers: 13 + 2 + 2 + 1 + 28 = 46PP Flight 6 (500MPH, Power Feats: Moving Feint) [13PP] Quickness 2 (x5) [2PP] Power Reserve 1 (2PP; Flight [up to 7 (1,000 MPH/10,000 feet/round)] or Quickness [up to 4 (x25)]) [2PP] Immunity 1 (high altitudes) [1PP] High Flier Array 12.5 (25PP, Power Feats: Alternate Power 3) [28PP] Base: Damage 6 (Extras: Area [Targeted, Burst] [8], Selective Attack [8] Power Feats: Accurate 2, Mighty) [25PP] (Bludgeoning, Air/Wind) ("Borealist Blitz") AP: Damage 12 (Extras: Ranged, Power Feats: Accurate 1) [25PP] (Electricity/Lightning) ("Green Lightning") AP: Damage 10 (Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Dazzle], Flaws: Action [Full Action], Tiring, Power Feats: Progression 10 [Area, Max 20 mile radius) [15PP] + Dazzle 10 (auditory and visual, Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Damage], Flaws: Action [Full Action], Range [Touch], Tiring) [10PP] (Electricity/Lightning, Sonic) (Borealis Burst) AP: Environmental Control 6 (24PP, Mix-and-Match Environments: Cold, Distraction, Hamper Movement (High Winds, Icy or West Surfaces), Heat, Reduced Visibility [Precipitation]; Extras: Independent [+0], Power Feats: Reversible [Maximum Radius 250ft]) [25PP] (Weather) ("Stir the Storm") DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Borealis Blitz Touch DC 23 Toughness Damage [Physical] Green Lightning Ranged DC 27 Toughness Damage [Energy] Borealis Burst Area DC 25 Toughness Damage [Energy] Borealis Burst Area DC 20 Reflex Blinded, Deafened [Energy] Totals: Abilities (20) + Combat (28) + Saving Throws (18) + Skills (18) + Feats (20) + Powers (46) = 150/150 Power Points

Cobalt Templar With All Respects to Max Tegmark: 3 IC Posts Guide Point to Cobalt Templar Raven While I Pondered, Weak And Weary (Summer Vignette)

An over-sized hand crackling with energy grasped the rubble above where Cobalt Templar had struck. His armored form rose, barely so much as dented by the impact of the blow. His jetpack roared to life, and with renewed determination, he kicked off from the ground and seared through the air toward the abominable warbot. "I barely felt that you walking trash heap!" He impacted the thing, feet-first, hitting it in the upper chest. His enormous sword rose and then plunged down. This time, instead of merely creasing the thing's armor, it actually sank in, splitting the plates of metal, and burning into whatever foulness lay beneath. "You cannot stand before my flames! Now fall!" The crackling fist reared back, and then slammed into the warbot's neck, even as he kept his sword firmly planted. He had every intention of destroying the thing, on his own if need be.

Cobalt Templar is going to try the same thing as earlier. However, he's going to do it with more GUSTO. We're going to Power Attack for +5 Damage and -5 Attack. Then we're going to All Out Attack for +5 Attack and -5 Defense. His Defense will be +8 for the next round. He's going to Melee Attack; gotta keep using that Penetrating Damage! Melee Attack: 33 That'll be a DC 33 Toughness Save!

Well, I didn't make 30, but I feel like 28 is good enough. I won't get a condition, at least, just a ding.

While I Pondered, Weak and Weary T-Minus 2 Days Aleksander sat up in bed, sweating. The nightmares faded in a few eye-blinks, and all he had were aching scars and echoing bad memories. He ran a hand over his face, sighed, and laid back down to sleep. Just dreams, after all. T-Minus 10 Hours Aleksander was in the above-ground gymnasium of the Summers Manor, working hard enough to make some CrossFitters proud. Currently he was doing dips while holding up weights with his legs. He grunted, sweating, as he pushed himself as hard as he could. The last week, he’d had this feeling that he needed to go as hard as he could. He didn’t know why; most of the crime lords were quieter than usual, which really just made the Summers and himself antsy. But gift horses and mouths, and all that. So, Aleksander trained his body, and he studied how to work on the Unkindness with Mister and Miss Summers. He was still getting the hang of the more hands-on mechanical stuff, and wasn’t nearly as good with it as computers, but he’d get there. He let out a breath, dropped the weights, then lightly dropped to his feet, walking over to a towel rack and grabbing one. He wiped sweat from his head and bare torso before taking a swig from a nearby water bottle. Then he moved to the squat machine, turned the weight up a bit, and got to work. T-Minus 30 Minutes Aleksander sat at the master console in the Rookery, idly tapping away at the keyboard as he contemplated the program he’d been coding on-and-off for months now. It wasn’t the sort of thing they’d likely need, but with as many spare models of the Unkindness, and the older Ravenmobile, that they had, never mind the older Corvids and Ravenplanes and Ravencopters, and it just seemed logical to build a contingency to do something with them. In Freedom City, you never knew what was going to happen. He just wished he could get the control loops to be more independent; as-is, you’d need someone managing them almost like the “AIs” in a lot of the older strategy games that still floated up from time to time. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers; an idea had come to him! Alek began typing furiously. T-Minus 0 Minutes, Seconds Alek hit “enter” just as Duncan Summers walked out of the elevator (the one that linked to his personal suite in the Summers Manor above). At which point every alarm in the Rookery went off. Alek stood up, wide-eyed, and made a wave-off motion. “I didn’t do it, I swear!” Duncan wasn’t laughing. His face paled as he strode forward, hitting a few buttons and bringing up a huge map of the city on the main (oversized) monitor. Alek stilled as he saw the veritable swarm of angry red-black dots. “...Mister Summers, what are those?” Duncan turned to face the young man who had inherited his mantle, his legacy. “Omegadrones.” T-Plus 3 Minutes Callie was on one of the screens. “I forbi-” Alek, now wearing the high-tech fabric “undersuit” that the rest of his Ravensuit was donned over, chopped off Callie Summers mid-sentence, his face stony. “I’m the Raven now. You told me that the mantle was mine. That you trusted me to do this. To make the calls. To be the shield in the night. To, if necessary, pay the price.” Both of their eyes flickered ever-so-briefly to Duncan’s long-injured leg; the retired hero just rolled his eyes as he watched from the sidelines. “You’ve got to stay at Claremont. And this is about more than just taking out Omegadrones. I can get whole squads of vehicles out there. I can evacuate people. Maybe not like some heroes, but I can do something. I didn’t call you to ask permission, Callie. I just called to inform you what the Raven is doing.” Her face had gone still, her brows furrowed. Finally, after many long moments, she closed her eyes and sighed. “You’re right. Damn it all, but you’re right. I’m sorry, Aleksander. I did you a disservice.” “I’m not mad, Callie. Well.” He smirked. “Maybe slightly frustrated. But I look at it this way…” He turned and started walking to the Vault, the place where all of his suits and gear were stored. “At least I’m not stuck bottled up in a school with a bunch of hormonal teenagers while the world’s falling down around our ears.” “Be safe, Alek.” “Always, Boss Lady.” Alek walked into the Vault. T-Plus 20 Minutes Miles away from the Summers Manor, on the outskirts of Freedom City proper, the ground opened up. But instead of some hellish crack, it was a high-tech door that opened up. Out from it roared a vehicle that looked like a rougher version of the Unkindness. It was followed quickly by a couple of long, lean vehicles, and a handful of Raven-themed “normal” cars. Bringing up the rear was simple black high-capacity van. “So, putting aside that having that van along makes me feel vaguely like a creeper despite not even being inside of it, this seems to be working well, Boss Man.” “Raven, never let anyone tell you you aren’t brilliant with computers. This interface is easier than I expected.” “I’d blush if I weren’t terrified out of my mind. Did you get the Last Ravenmobile on the road too?” Suddenly, a lower, leaner version of the Unkindness roared up the road, keeping pace with the bulky vehicle Raven was controlling directly. “Good.” The ragtag fleet of cars roared down the road toward a hot-spot, where a couple dozen motorists were surrounded by a dozen Drones. Despite being over a mile from where the Flock emerged, it took less than a minute for Raven to arrive. He opened the encounter with a barrage of energy weapon fire from the two heaviest vehicles, and a handful of old-model concussive missiles from the longer cars. Only two of the Drones were completely destroyed; the others regrouped, with half their number moving off elsewhere (likely seeking easier prey, or perhaps going to form up with reinforcements) while the other half leveled their pikes at the incoming vehicles. One of them was simply run over by the proto-Unkindness, while another was rammed into a wall by the heavy Ravenmobile. The two long cars turned in skid-drifts that saw them knocking the other Omegadrones away with sideswipe maneuvers.The other cars skidded to a halt next to the civilians and flung their doors open. The people present quickly got with the program and climbed in, even as Raven used his vehicles to battle a handful of Omegadrones. T-Plus 45 Minutes Raven pushed the ruined canopy from the proto-Unkindness aside, rolling his neck to work out the kinks. He was glad he’d equipped the extra armor plating on his suit before starting this brilliantly insane plan; otherwise he’d probably have whiplash and broken bones. As things stood, it would just be a few bruises. “Well, time to-urk!” A charred and cracked metal hand grasped his throat, as the half-destroyed Omegadrone, sparking and dripping who knew what kinds of fluids, strode out of the wreck of the proto-Unkindness. It stared at Raven with unblinking eyes, its head tilting slightly. Aleksander cursed his pride and inattentiveness before pulling a small spray dispenser from his belt. Before the drone could react, it was against its chin. Nothing spectacular happened, though; a bunch of grey goop piled up, with a consistency between whipped cream and play-doh. A few careful twists and maneuvers saw the armored vigilante freed from the apocalyptic soldier’s grip and gaining a few feet of space...at which point he threw a Pinion at the ground, helping it hit just so such that it bounced up into the explosive gel smeared across the Omegadrone’s chin, triggering a reaction that left a headless body with a sparking neck stump. “Okay, so, this is going to suck.” T-Plus 1.5 Days By now, Aleksander was using old aircraft, and had seen four of them crashed or destroyed; three Ravenplanes and a Ravencopter. Duncan Summers seemed cheerfully sad about the whole ordeal, as he was at least partially controlling them via Alek’s own computer interface. “Museum pieces given one last chance to shine”, he’d remarked. Currently, Raven was leading a veritable convoy of his vehicles and civilian vehicles from one of the heaviest areas of fighting to a safe zone, the two remaining armed Ravenmobiles (both of them the long, powerful models from a couple of decades ago) taking the sides of the convoy while the two remaining Ravencopters took the rear, the last three Ravenwings flew overhead, and the Raven himself flew in the first Corvid, as (much like his current Unkindness) the automated repair systems were still frantically working to fix the urban aircraft. At the moment, he flew like a veterna military member, his movements smooth and precise while he kept watch on the sensor feed (greatly enhanced by having over a dozen networked, high-tech, sensor-laden ground and air vehicles moving in a group). Suddenly, something registered ahead. He looked, the canopy of his aircraft projecting a zoomed-in view of a veritable flock of Omegadrones. His eyes narrowed and his hands gripped the controls more tightly as he spoke. “Boss Man, tell the civilians things are about to get hairy, and move the planes up to support me. Keep the ‘copters on overwatch, I don’t trust that there aren’t some preparing an ambush. The guns on the ‘mobiles should be good anti-air as well.We can’t let them near the civilians.” Duncan Summers had too much control to let Aleksander hear that he was shedding tears. Tears for the lives lost. Tears of impotent rage at being stuck in a cave while a child fought. Tears that they were reduced to lethal violence, even though for the Omegadrones it was likely a mercy. Tears that Aleksander was so good at this despite his age. Instead, he spoke smoothly, efficiently, and professionally. “Already done. I’m moving to cover you. Be careful.” Within moments, the sky was filled with missiles, energy pulses, and bullets, and helpless civilians cowered in armored hero-cars as they raced along the streets. It was just one of dozens of desperate battles. T-Plus 2-and-change Days “You need to rest!” “I am.” “Meditation doesn’t count!” “I’ve done several times this many days without sleep.” “Only when being abused by an insane cult!” “So without abuse I should be good for a few days at least.” Two men, one young and one old, scowled at each other. One slept in a bed. The other returned to a desperate fight. Later that Day Raven flew overwatch on a convoy headed to a National Guard safe zone, wearing one of the older powered armors that was flight-capable. His helmet’s HUD showed him incoming Omegadrones. Wordlessly, he angled toward them, and in moments, dark figures clashed in the sky while civilians ran and screamed in fear below. T-Plus 3 Days (Suggested listening) The war, for that’s what it was, had taken its toll. Only the recently-finished Corvid and a flock of unarmed cars, SUVs, and motorcycles remained. All the Ravenmobiles, Copters, and Planes had been spent against Omegadrones. The only Unkindness that remained was not in a state to go on the road, let alone this mess. The only extra armor left was the bulkiest suit they had, nothing but armor, servomotors, and a few hardpoints. He’d put what gear he could in and on it, but he felt frustrated at its simplicity; he was used to the flexibility his regular suit offered. But in the fights he’d been in, it had been proved his regular suit wasn’t enough. As for Alek himself, he felt like his entire body was a bruise, he ached to his bones, he suspected there were a few microfractures, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Instead, he fought. It was the only choice, after all. He saw a half-dozen drones circling a building that his HUD said was an orphanage. He pushed the accelerator, and flicked on the targeting computer. Within moments, half the drones fell to the ground as smoking wrecks. Several minutes of intense dogfighting contained within a four-block radius saw two more drones downed. The last one scored a significant hit upon the Corvid. Alek glanced at his damage display, sighed, and secured his utility belts to his armor; it took no real thought to secure another bandolier with several cylinders on it, and then reach down and grab an over-sized grapnel gun. Hitting a few keys, he tensed, then relaxed, just as the Corvid ejected him directly toward the larger-than-normal Omegadrone. Mid-air, he turned around, impacting the creature feet-first. As they fell, he aimed his grapnel gun, firing it just so. As they approached the ground, the line began to go taut, pulling just enough that by the time the Drone was hitting the pavement, he was landing with just enough force to compress its chest plate, but not to injure himself. He’d feel it in the morning. If there was a morning. Quick as a snake he was off the drone, stowing the grapnel while he all but slammed the cylinders together, until he had a metal pole assembled, one that extended a simple but powerful looking blade at one end. This was what he used to divert the power pike of the Omegadrone. This was what the Raven dueled one of the elite soldiers of Entropy with. This is what he beat the Omegadrone with, this spear. The same spear that was pulled from his hands by a crackling energy whip. He turned, seeing a gaunt figure dressed in dark clothes that somehow looked flashy, almost gaudy. The man examining the spear, laughed, and threw it (with far more strength than his limbs suggested) into a nearby building, sinking it two feet into the stone. “Delightful! A bit crude, but it’s a good foundation. You’ll do excellently with Mother, I think!” “I don’t know who you’re talking about you crazed freak, but you’re not taking me or anyone else anywhere.” “You would deny the Black Madonna? No matter, we will break you. You, and the other ones with potential.” Raven went very still as he realized that not far behind this man, there was a whole crowd of children. Orphans. All of them shackled. Some of them bearing marks that looked like a whip. Slowly, his gaze returned to the servant of the Terminus. “You just made a big mistake.” “Oh? Did I? Why don’t you edu-” And then suddenly there’s an over-armored fist smashing into his mouth, as Raven all but overclocks the servo-motors in his armor to practically fly across the ground between them. He doesn’t let up, either, pushing the whip-user back and back, away from the kids. His strikes are fast, efficient, and brutal. None will kill. But they’ll all hurt. One blow fractures the whip-user’s left arm into multiple fragments, only barely held in by his skin. The man just laughs. “You’ll do wonderfully in the Pits! They will purge your weakness! Refine you like fi-” “Shut. UP!” The next blow is like a thunderbolt, and shatters the man’s jaw. His eyes flicker with anger as he rears back and strikes forward with the whip. The Raven is quicker, however, putting one arm up to catch the whip and let it wrap around his gauntlet. Even as the entropic energies slowly eat at the armor, Alek begins to wind more and more of it around his arm, bringing the servant of the Black Madonna closer as the agent of Entropy begins to visibly panic. Before he can think to just let go of the whip, the entangled arm grabs him by the throat. The other arm grasps at a device on his belt. “I took an oath, that I wouldn’t take a life. I’ve bent that oath for the sake of the tortured souls you scum shove into those armors. But you won’t get that mercy. No, you carry a message for me.” “Wh...w...what m...me...message” the frightened lackey slurred out. “Tell everyone that not only is Freedom off-limit. But that the children are especially off-limits. So says the Raven.” A quick press of a button on his own belt, and then his free hand reaches over to crush the crackling whip’s handle, killing the power and leaving his left arm armor scarred but intact. Then he thumbs a button on the device he took from the man’s belt, and a howling wound in space-time opens up. It resolves into a view high above the streets of Nihlor, just far enough from anything happening that nothing comes back through. Raven lifts the man higher, still a good 20 feet from the portal, and pulls back to throw him in. “You shall desecrate this place with your evil….nevermore!” A flock of robotic ravens swoops down from nowhere as the hero named after said bird throws the servant of the Black Madonna into the rift. Raven crushes the remote as the man and flock cross the threshold; the ravens will carry the man to the ground. Not gently, and they may harry and harass him until destroyed. His conscience was clear. Raven turned and stumbled, leaning against a wall. He felt the earth shake at random, quivering as blows were exchanged between titans all over the city. For several long moments, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Alek...are you okay.” “I am now.” “Come home.” “Not yet.” His eyes opened within the helmet, and his face was set in a grim line. “There’s still work to do.” The grapnel gun lifted and fired, and the Raven flew off into the night. There were still people to save, and he still had strength in his limbs. He wasn’t done, not by a long shot. Even if part of him was weary.

Reflex, you say? DC 25 Reflex Save: 24.

Will be around some today, but not really available during the week. Next weekend I ought to start being around more, though.

Cobalt Templar's attention turned to the enormous monstrosity, his eyes narrowing inside his helmet. His stance shifted, his cape twirling around for a moment before shifting into a large, bulky pack that quickly screamed with increasing exhaust. "Ladies. Please keep the chaff busy. I will engage the beast until you can join me." He launched into the air, training faintly-blue fire, his sword gleaming, his armored fist crackling. The air rushed around him, and then he was perched on the Warbot's chest. His sword flashed out, clashing against the thing's armor, his fist pummeling at the plating keeping the abomination in one piece. "I defy you! I shall strike you down!" Even if he wasn't making much progress, he likely had the thing's attentions.

Should be 3 HP for CT unless you're invoking a Complication somewhere. Anyway. Free Action: Talk! Move Action: Get up in the Giant Robo's business. Standard Action: Melee Attack: 24. If that hits, it's a DC 28 Toughness Save, and the attack has Penetrating 12.

Templar goes on a 24.

Cobalt Templar took note of the stirrings of the war-droid, but couldn't split his focus at the moment. He raised the hand shrouded in an over-sized glove, bearing an automated firearm as some sort of after-thought. The weapon barked, and craters appeared in the armor of a half-dozen nearby Drones. Moments later, his great flaming sword smote them, the one at his left that somehow escaped that blow being grabbed with the crackling glove on that side. Its head was quickly crushed-burned, naught but ash falling to the ground. Fire and smoke swirled around him as he stomped after Sea Devil and Singularity, his own booming voice now silent. Now was not the time for words, and only his allies would understand his verbal castigation anyway.

Going to be on a short vacation and trying to be mostly unplugged from tomorrow through most of Sunday. Will be around (later) tonight.

July was not kind to me. Cobalt Templar With All Respects to Max Tegmark: 3 IC Posts Guide PP to Cobalt Templar.

Cobalt Templar considered the situation before shrugging and nodding. "The floor? Yeah. Give me a bit of space and a moment to concentrate." He stood, planting his feet hip-width apart, his weapon disappearing in a fiery haze of raw power that swirled back into him. The outfit he wore, his creativity-driven manifestation of the raw inner power of his Ring, grew indistinct before becoming an opaque swirl of blue tinged with red that spun about him. Before suddenly, a burning blade rose up, its tip barely touching the ceiling. The glow faded, and Cobalt Templar stood, seemingly transformed, before Singularity and Sea Devil. Some called the two young women there monsters (though usually far away from them and any friendly to them). But the ring-wielding hero knew the real monsters looked and acted more ordinary, and that sometimes you had to fight them force-to-force. Thus, he was now clad in dark blue armor that swirled with dark red patterns; arcane symbols of the Kabbalah, one shoulder bearing an Omega, his left chest bearing a "101", his right shoulder bearing a dark crimson eagle design. His right hand gripped an enormous sword that blazed with blue fire, while his right hand bore an enormous gauntlet that crackled with barely-restrained power; an advanced-looking firearm strapped to it seemed an almost undersized afterthought. His head was hidden behind a helmet that, while not as nightmarish as that of an Omegadrone, was nonetheless fearsome in its own right. When he spoke, his voice reverberated with power and authority. "Now then. The floor above. Be prepared, ladies." ==================================================== The hall above was dark, and the Omegadrones patrolling it were running a routine patrol pattern, clearly no specific threat in mind. Suddenly, the floor behind them rose up, then split, as an enormous blade pierced through the floor, a flaming mockery of Excalibur rising from the waters of the Lake. Moments later, the floor tore itself apart as a huge hand grabbed and pulled, some of its material simply melting away at the forces exerted on it, as a blue giant clad in gleaming metal rose up from beneath, bearing fire and fury in his hands. "Your time is up, monsters."

Going to Stunt off of his Fires Of Creation Array, and give him Impervious 10, let's say. We're going to keep that running as long as possible. Hero Point to negate Fatigue.

Cobalt Templar had silently followed behind Aquaria as she took the lead; despite all his enhancements he could tell she felt in her element. Besides, his abilities meant he was good at taking up the rear. Of course, being in the rear didn't make some of these discoveries less unsettling. When Aquaria signaled there were drones overhead, he crouched down, his gaze pointed upward but his conjured firearm still lowered. He considered the situation for a moment before he spoke, his voice barely even a whisper, and distorted slightly through the darkened construct-armor about his body. "We knew there would be many. Do we strike up through here or take another route? We can't afford the time to explore all 3."

Cobalt Templar found himself...not zoning out, but ending up in a place that was, if not zen, then very calm and remarkable relaxed, all things considered. He was falling back on years of hard-won experience at how to handle combat, putting his nerves aside in the moment. He acknowledge the genuine fear he felt on multiple levels, but coolly chose to not act on that fear. Instead, he swept his gaze down each tunnel for several moments, scanning for threats, before shouldering his conjured weapon for a moment and speaking. "I vote we go left. It doesn't have a drop-off, and the claws suggest a mutate of some sort who snuck around. There's probably some kind of sewer-type entrance they missed. Right side...I'm worried about what might have killed the mouse. I'd say it was paranoid, but..." But the city was under siege by the Terminus, and Corbin had learned his lesson well years ago the lengths the Terminus might go to deceive.

Thoughtspeed I'm a Believer, Are You?: 1 IC Post When We Were Gone Astray: 2 IC Posts Cobalt Templar With All Respect to Max Tegmark: 2 IC Posts Guide Point to Cobalt Templar