KnightDisciple
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And then just as suddenly, there was a knight, in shining blue armor, a noble cape of dark red flapping in the breeze, a face seemingly made of blue fire, standing just in front of the summoning sigile. He was huge, nearly 10 feet tall. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his voice was firm. It carried authority in it. "No, we call you forth to find what your tasks have been, and who has called you for these tasks. We do not seek to enslave you or use you. But we will have the knowledge we seek." There was a rather strong implication behind the blue giant's words. It wasn't so much a threat, though, as a statement of intent. "If you deal honorably with us, my inclination would be to return you to the place from whence you came and ensure you are not called to this world or plane. Ever again."
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William Cline wasn't dropped off by any car, but he was still one of the first people there. He wandered into the Festival area proper, his gaze bouncing all over the place. The run over had been a nice warm-up, which was good, since he was definitely feeling a bit of a sting in the air. He snugged his coat and scarf a bit tighter; higher metabolism or no, unless he was fully in-costume in a fight, this weather was chilly. While not cutting edge fashion or anything, he was in good shape, so he figured he cut a dashing enough figure out here in the snow. So he took to just meandering on in a bit at a time, keeping one eye open for people he knew, and another eye open for people he didn't. This was likely to be a pretty awesome day.
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Tagging.
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Just FYI, going to be in and out today, probably won't be around at all tomorrow (or if I am it will be late and briefly), and won't be around much Sunday (once again, other than fairly late). I think I'm caught up at the moment, though.
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Okay, here is an incredibly rough mock-up of the actual "complex". The large rectangles are the existing warehouses. They look to be repaired but not "prettied up"; there are no holes or broken windows, but there are a lot of welded-on patches, not-painted lumber, or cleanly boarded-over windows. They are roughly 50 feet wide, and...uh, probably 150 feet long? Exact dimensions aren't hugely important. The bit in the middle is clearly prefabricated buildings. The temporary kind that a military group could easily tear down and rebuild somewhere else. There are a few guards stationed at the mouth of each of the alleyways, as well as a couple of patrols making a circuit of the complex. There are a couple doors facing outward on each building, a good number of windows, and the rooftops are flat with no visible guards but not necessarily any visible entries.
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Cobalt Templar couldn't help but grin a bit as he was now meeting the famous Fast-Forward. "Fast-Forward, it's a pleasure and an honor. As for the situation, I managed to get a bit more insight from a professor who specializes in the stuff we're dealing with. The victims are done up in a manner similar to a figure that was dug up recently. A figure archeologists think might have been Unferth's wife. Which might explain his connection, but not Medea's." Templar would go into a bit more detail on what he'd learned speaking with Professor Churchill, along with some of his own speculations. After that was done, he turned toward Shadowblade for a moment. "Shadowblade caught wind of nasty goings-on and has volunteered to help. Which is probably for the best, as Stronghold's not answering calls. With you subbing for your wife and Temperance on her way, we've at least got the same headcount, and maybe a bit more variety. The real problem, though, is that we haven't gotten a lock on where Unferth and Medea are based, assuming it's even nearby. Or, really, what they're trying to accomplish."
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Thoughtspeed is PL 10 at PL 8 (shifted) caps. Also. DINOSAURS!!!!!
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Greenbank, Freedom City Friday, January 10th, 8:00pm They'd all started getting whispers, but they came from different places. Shadowblade was still making her mark on the city, but she'd heard rumors on more than one patrol that someone was restarting the same sort of experiment she'd busted up at that school just a few weeks ago. Except, this sounded bigger. With even more planning and setup, and in an area few seemed to care about. Blodeuwedd's patrols had gotten her a lot of rumblings about...well, it wasn't so much a "gang war" as it was "outsiders gobbling up territory". Except these outsiders played things smart. One day, suddenly several of the not-quite-empty warehouses were no longer under their existing management. Some of the previous tenants had made it out with rumors of men (and a few women) in matte black uniforms moving like ghosts in the night. People in uniforms that sometimes had guns, sometimes nothing. Always scary. Not all of the tenants (a polite term for small and medium gangs squatting in warehouses and other buildings) made it out, though some were whispering they weren't dead, they just switched "sides". Graft had been hearing rumbles from many of his patients coming through the clinic. Most were homeless people who'd seen these strange people lurking about, or just barely missed their "grabs". But they didn't seem to be primarily targeting the random homeless and transients. Instead, the primary targets were gang members! The folks Graft talked to mentioned at one point seeing black-clothed figures nab a half-dozen gang-bangers without killing them. A couple nights later, it seemed like there were even more paramilitary folks running around... Comrade Frost, meanwhile, had gotten some disturbing rumors himself. Rumors of the mafiya being paid a pretty penny to help move a lot of very interesting things into a couple of warehouses right on the river. Things like lots of high-end scientific materials, loads and loads of wires and cables and pipes and ropes, prefabricated housing and other long-term residence supplies... And weapons. Nothing too big, all man-portable, and nothing incredibly advanced. But weapons nonetheless. But it wasn't a continuing operation; it was a one-and-done transport deal, conducted with some people who were so professional you could cut paper on it. Not a pretty picture, but he hadn't heard of anything major getting blown up. Yet. Now, what would they all be doing about it?
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The thread where our heroes deal with some shady, shady things.
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Corbin sat calmly, waiting for Rojas to be headed out the door before taking the map she left and carefully folding it up, tucking it into his shirt pocket. He glanced around as he quietly drew out his wallet and counted up their tab. He stood, nodding at Indira's words. "I simply wished for the Professor to get some distance from us. Just in case. And I like your thinking about location, Indira." He began walking for the door, keeping his voice quiet as he also tossed some money toward the bartender, not even having to look to have it land almost exactly on top of Rojas's money. "It also puts us in the existing...search area." Meaning it could be a two-for-one sort of deal.
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Well, to clarify, this gathering will happen at the end. I don't think it's a spoiler, because it's not part of the central plot! It's just a hook for next time, a sort of "consolation prize" for the villains.
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For a brief moment, the Baron considered slipping off to change into his armor. But there weren't a lot of spots available. Still, the truck was loading up fast. Perhaps he could hop in the sedan and get out later... And then the sedan stalled out. He cursed under his breath in Swedish and ran over. He shouted as he did so. "Pop the hood and don't try to turn it over until I give the signal!" Perhaps miraculously they listened, and he was able to all but slam the hood open, his sleeves already shoved up his arms. Almost immediately, he was tweaking things in the engine. At one point he gently pulled a fuel line and let a bit of gas drain before reconnectiong. Then he took a single step back...and hit the main engine block with a respectable kick! "Turn it over now!" He just hoped percussive maintenance continued to do its part in engineering.
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I want to run this by all participants before I finalize the idea, because how many say "yay" or "nay" might well affect how I do things. The question I put to you is this: Are you alright with the Labyrinth getting one or more samples from your PC for the purpose of attempting to recreate powers and such? This won't compromise secret identities (where applicable), but it might result in some interesting times in the future!
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I think I'm going to go with Shadowblade, Blodeuwedd, Graft, and Comrade Frost. Congratulations on being the only American, Graft! I'm going to let a couple of ideas in my head percolate for a bit, then try to get balls rolling.
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Corbin had unconsciously rolled his shoulders at the slightly odd feeling that had poked at his spine a couple times now. It felt...off...but he couldn't pin it down, and they were making some good headway. But then Indira said they were being mind-scanned. His face locked down into an expressionless mask that might as well be made of the same fiery steel as his armor. He looked at the professor, frustration clearly peaking through. "That's why I try to keep the possession of certain artifacts less-than-public." But the woman had refused to meet with him or reveal anything until he'd finally relented and revealed he might have one of the legendary artifacts on his person. He hadn't told her the full extent of what he could do, or his heroic identity. He wasn't stupid, after all. "Perhaps, Professor Rojas, it would be best if you left us with a couple of helpful maps, and headed back to the university. I think at this point we've got what we need. For the time being." His gaze slid to the two young women with him, likely trying to indicate they should be ready if things...went south.
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Cobalt Templar considered the question, even as he casually looked around the corner of the park where he'd suggested everyone meet. "Well, Temperance was wrapping up some research, but should be here. Stronghold is strangely unreachable. But Hologram's available. I think she said Fast-Forward might make it as well. So, counting us, that's a minimum of 4, possibly 5. Even better, with you in the mix it would give us a pretty diverse mix of ability and skill, which may well come in handy. If there's one or more big-time evil magic-users in on this, I'd wager one or two of us can get them monologuing, while some of you sneak around behind for a sucker punch. Or rescue op. Either way." He seemed content to wait and chat for the time being.
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So, looking to help CorsecJedi get some more threadage, I'm thinking of trying out GMing another thread. In this case, I'd be GMing only. I don't really have a specific story idea yet, but I kind of want to tailor it to the characters involved. Maximum of 4 PCs counting Shadowblade. PL 9-12, though looking more for street-level or skill-based, anyways, moreso than raw powerhouses. But, I think I can be flexible! If we get more than 3 other people (besides Corsec) applying, I'll go over who's put their names in the hat and decide from there.
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"Good to know, good to know. As for getting there, well, this won't be the lap of luxury, but...." The big man in blue turns, his cape evaporating in the wind, and a rig that seems not unlike a simplified ejection seat from a plane appears on his back. Straps included. His torso now had extra braces and straps over the armor plating, helping secure the seat. Cobalt Templar went to one knee, facing away from Shadowbloade, and waited patiently as he spoke. "Hop on and strap in, let me know when you're secure. Should give you a five-point harness. I'll make sure the wind isn't too bad." This would be accomplished by generating an aerodynamic pod around Shadowblade, just big enough to contain her without terribly cramping her. Then they were in the sky, quickly moving at a very high speed. High enough that it was pretty much just one big parabola, going up and then almost immediately back down, until they landed. After landing, the pod walls would go first, then the harness, leaving the seat until Shadowblade disembarked. Then Templar's outfit would revert to normal as he looked around, waiting for the others. "Short flight, even. Now to wait for the rest..."
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Freedom City was the sort of place where random heroes popping up out of nowhere was just how things rolled. And in Cobalt Templar's mind, a sneaky, shadowy hero catching wind of something that had been going on for over 12 hours, and had at least 1 police precinct on high alert, and the rumors of involvement of a Crime League member? Well, that was just normal. He was good friends with Midnight, after all. So he just gave the shadow-jumper a big smile and offered a handshake. "Hey, if you're volunteering, you're welcome to join up! Besides, might be nice to have someone on board who's less...." He stops and looks down at himself, then back at her with a wry smile. "Noticeable. I just got some intel from a professor here, so I'm hoping that combined with what the others found out, we can maybe start tracking the folks who did this. If you want, I can conjure up a seat and give you the Cliff's Notes on the way to the meeting place." When you can juggle semi trucks, one lady riding in an energy construct seat on your back was nothing. If she decided to go on her own power, he'd give her a meeting point before taking a few moments to place a couple of calls to the other heroes to meet up as well. Or at least, he tried; he frowned after he finished his last call. "Can't reach Stronghold. But we can't wait for her. You ready to go, ma'am?" If she was, they would be heading out immediately.
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Expanding on the above since I've had some time to think on it! Here's what Miss A will get from the databanks, beyond random sensory bits. These are the major pieces: -These 3 drones are "armed scouts". The design is a bit slapdash, but they're mainly intended to find, stun, and secure any "stragglers". They're under strict orders to not cause permanent harm. -They don't have fully independent minds, but it's not quite a direct hive-mind connection. Rather, a bit of a mix. -The intent of the ultimate controlling intelligence, while very unclear and not really decipherable, is not destruction. -There are probably two dozen armed scouts, but the rest are pretty far away, and while oddly quiet for robots they can't fly or teleport or anything. -There are a half-dozen actual "soldier" drones in unknown locations. More heavily armored and armed, and bearing high-speed movement systems. -Other than the "conversion wave", the post-conversion halls aren't really laced with nanites. There are some in a few key bits for repairs, but the bulke are in that shiny "bulge" that sweeps down the halls and such. -There's not an entire map, but the scout's most recent routes show that the deepest parts of the new facility are even deeper than the original, and everything is rather radically changed. -There's also something else. Something in the background. Almost like a...mantra. "Metal is brittle and cold and barely changes. Flesh is soft and fragile and goes too soon. Apart they are weak and lesser. Together they are powerful. Flesh and metal as one. Flesh and Metal as one. Flesh And Metal As One." It's on a sort of erratic loop. Anyways, Drone 2 is gone, Drone 1 is mind-whammied, and Drone 3 is Dazed. So as soon as Electra gets her IC up, it's Harrier's turn! Turn Order Harrier (25): Uninjured; 4 HP Dragonfly (23): Uninjured; 4 HP Miss Americana (14): Uninjured; 6 HP Drone 2 (9): Uninjured Destroyed Drone 1 (6): 2 Injury, Mind-Controlled. Drone 3 (6): 2 Injury
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Templar listened as the historian expanded on what they already knew, and his brain started spinning theories. He accepted the papers, looking over them for several moments. "It's making me wonder if it was actually Aesir cultists, or if it was the creature Temperance encountered. Or even Unferth himself. This whole affair...now I'm wondering if they're using these girls to try and...resurrect Unferth's wife. Or find the "perfect replacement"? I just don't get why they're going for so many so rapidly. And beyond gender there's little to nothing that really ties the targets together. And why kill Saknussemm? It doesn't sound like he was involved, and it's not like his research is secret or hidden. They'd have to get a computer hacker and a sneak thief to even try to erase the information." He sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose through his helmet. "I wish Midnight were in on this case. Argh. Well, this has at least given us some more to work with, Professor Churchill. You have my sincere thanks, along with the other heroes and the police department. I think I'd better get back to the others. If we come across some more clues, we might need to run them by you again, if that's okay with you."
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She will be able to physically control it. The databanks won't give her much information, mainly just capabilities and such. It seems like it doesn't store orders or whatnot on itself.
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Will gave a noncommittal shrug at the whole "it's the staff restaurant" conversation. "Cafeteria, staff restaurant, point is, it's on-campus, and it's food, and it's good quality. And don't be such a Debbie Downer, Georgia. Not every single public school ever serves the worst food in existence, sheesh. Besides, this is a private school, you know they've got good stuff here. Maybe at least give it a try before getting completely depressed about it?" He rolled his shoulders a bit, rocking back on his heels for a moment before going flat on his feet again. "Hey, here's what we do! You gals go rock out in the dorms for a few, get your stuff put away, get your bearings, all that stuff. Meanwhile, I'll go get us a big table with room for everyone here, plus a few if other folks want to join the party." He gave a slightly embarrassed smile as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet for a moment. "Plus that way I'll be able to pack away a small course or two before everyone else gets there, and I can split attention between eating and talking instead of needing to just shovel it all in." Giang might recall having seen Will eating on campus a couple of times. it certainly wasn't something you forgot. Then again, he was a speedster, and they pretty much always seemed to have way higher metabolisms. It's not like the boy was getting chubby!
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Will rolled his eyes while his parents couldn't see (though with a mind-reading mother it was probably a moot point). He turned to speak to his father for a moment. "I didn't say I need it for the speed, dad. I need it for the transport capacity, but more importantly, the style." He turned back to Giang and gave her one of those "what are you going to do" shrugs. Will seemed genuinely attentive as Giang explained the garden, as well as the non-study opportunities on campus. "Garden policy seems reasonable. Just thought I'd ask. Also, movie nights? Fantastic! Gotta love it. Oh, I hope someone has a collection of totally terrible, awful films from, like, the 50s or whatever. You know, like on that one show where they sit there and poke fun at the movie? That's just a total blast if you get like six people doing it. As for video game competitions, hah! I bet I'll be medaling before you know it. Oh, I hope at least some of them are those group party games, though. Those are great, too. Like the ones where you're a rock band or whatever." He held up his hands as he spoke the next part. "I'm great at those; the stuff on screen just moves in slow-motion to me, and I've got quick hands! I'm not so great at real guitars though, and for some reason my folks won't let me try my hand at drums." Probably because they heard his attempts at guitar playing. In a blur, Will was standing next to his father, smile over his face, hand extended for Elias to shake. "Dad's stuck in the 80's. He just meant you're cool. Awesome. That your flight is impressive in a good way. Hi, my name's Will. William. Great to meet you, glad to see there's one or two other guys on campus. You'd think a school full of beautiful girls-" He stops and turns, giving Giang and Mali a cheesy smile-and-wink combo that's so cheesy and terrible it has to be over-done on purpose. "-would be a dream, but the way I see it, having some time to pull back and regroup just makes the experience more exciting! Plus a bit of competition stirs the blood, you know?"
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Gabriel chuckled and nodded. "True enough! Either way we leave their heads ringing." Gabriel gave her a small bow. "But of course, and feel free to take your time. There's plenty to choose from." As she moved on, he eyed the rest of the crowd, just taking the whole event in. "Kind of wish we had these parties more often. Old friends and new faces, together in one place to celebrate, have fun, and relax. Seems like we spend all our time fighting and running and resting, and not enough celebrating and eating and drinking. Fun's important too, after all!"