Ari

Okay, STR check failure means Nathan doesn't manage to keep his feet long enough to get fully away from the killbox before having to take another anti-Stun check, Fortitude check vs. DC20, with +1 bonus thanks to having just endured just such an assault.

Okay, this will come up in next GM post, but for preliminary details, Nathan gets about halfway through before accidentally nudging into the field of view of the gunnery. Reflex save vs. DC15 and a Strength check vs. DC10. Success on the Reflex halves the rank on the Autorifles' Stun, which is normally DC20.

Yay! Glad you have your own place and your own source of your own income, Moira!

I am here. For some reason.

Well as per discussion in Chat, this much has been decided, or at least not actively spoken against: Atlantis and her surviving colonies petition the ruling Council of Farside City to consider their case against the Guardian Willow. She is invited to be present to defend herself and reach a peaceful agreement with the Atlanteans, represented by Prince Telemachus, an invitation extended to the rest of her Earthly allies, family and friends. As the only terrestrial lawyer with much applicable experience, the revenant Lucy Harkness winds up as her defence attorney. But it has to be proved that a crime was committed in the first place, which is where the Farsiders' advanced technology and relaxed social mores about telepathy come in handy. By drawing on echoes of the past and exploring the mentality of Min, her defenders and accusers, something like truth might potentially be arrived at. Nick since you've no precise plan for this, do you mind if I mostly make up the circumstances of the situation, since there's conflicting data all over and I feel it'd be more interesting if the N/PCs legit don't know for sure what happened 100,000 years ago. Overall it working similar to Rashomon seems like the easiest bet. Only one person involved was ever there and even her memory and perception isn't flawless. It being about what everyone else wants or believes seems more useful than time-travel detective work or revealing some secret plot to smash, this being an issue she can't punch I recall as something Nick was explicitly interested in.

@olopi, @Sailor, would you both please make Fortitude saves, DC10. Olopi, as well, a DC18 Arcane Lore check for Sha'ir.

I mean more, how do you imagine her changing or reacting to the experience? Or is this more something that changes those around her to your mind?

Nick has broached the idea of his character Willow being brought to trial by the Atlanteans for the destruction of their people and much of human civilization thousands of years ago. This thread will be for considering and resolving any issues with the concept and exploring its implications. As AA has suggested that this be an Interceptors thread, I've offered to GM it. The loose story so far is the first sentence above. @Nick, what were you thinking this would be for? How does this affect Willow?

Jesus, hope he recovers smoothly, Heritage. Leg injuries are the worst. I had one when I was 10, still days I can barely put any weight on it. Good luck to your brother, glad he has someone like you to help him.

Thanks for all you've done here, Raveled. Reading your old threads about Ironclad was a major part of why I joined. Hope you do find something more fulfilling.

I could go.

GM ~"Receiving you, Levity, we saw what's happening. Get down here soon as you can, there's-"~ "NO!" That was right in her and Hakim's ears at once, and then the fingers closed. They had missed the plane, but the seething cloud burst out like a flood to engulf fifty thousand feet in every direction, just managing to enshroud the Peregrine in its roiling, screaming haze. Inside it was like the depths of Hell, the agonized shrieking and flashing, psychedelic glare of the cloud making attempting to focus on almost anything torturous. The rescue plane, trapped with the people it was intended to save, moved like it was driving through pudding. But gravity didn't seem to matter, and neither did momentum. Meanwhile, the dragon kept one ethereal claw around Hakim's neck, whispering savagely "Harken, mortal. I can help. I too am trapped here, with this scum, but you...you have the Gift." The emerald eyes seemed to sink into Hakim's heart. "Vow to free even one claw from this pit, and I will stop the screams. Your magic will not suffice against these shades, not alone..." Already, the howling and wailing was starting to make the pair's heads pound.

HP to the both of you, Fiating that despite Levity's successful flying she cannot get them free of the cloud.

GM Citizen Lances of howling unmaking stabbed up, down and all around Citizen as the five monstrous fusions of matter/antimatter did their utmost to annihilate the robotic hero. Luckily they hadn't counted on the advanced defensive technology that Archetech had by now perfected, and with the erratic precision of a fluttering snowflake Sharl dodged and anticipated the frenzied attacks moments before they even left the hands of the Negators. One of them held back, watching the futile barrages of his fellows as they eviscerated every molecule in the sky but their target's, a charge growing between his clenched fists. ~Sharl!~ The line from Dr. Lo suddenly darted past Citizen's eyes ~MarsTech just called, said they'd be sending 'someone' to help out~ WHAM It might have been a moment's immobility, that Negator had figured out a pattern, or just a very, very lucky shot, but it hit Citizen's nigh-invulnerable carapace dead-on, a white/black hammer that carried with it the collapse of the local atmosphere as air rushed to fill the gap like water into the hull of a broken ship. Said hammer rebounded off of Citizen, deflected by his latent EM field, much to the rage of the meta-villain. As one the rest of him hurled themselves away, but halted just at the edge of Sharl's retaliation range in a loose cross, ensuring that no matter where he went he'd have to deal with at least one of them. The lucky fellow who'd made the shot remained, positively shimmering with frustration. It wasn't hard to see why both sides of him had ended up lonely, embittered misanthropes.

Okay, their attacks: 4 miss, one hits. DC29 Toughness save. The Negator clones who did not hit him swoop just out of range of Citizen's eye beams.

"I quite understand, my lord Lockwood." For once, Thetis' face grew grave, her eyes solemn "Even if not by our will, it was our hands that made such suffering. Both the humans on the surface and the Deep Ones are owed a great deal of blood by us." Turning to Dol-Druth, she said "Thank you for the thought, Mr. Speaker. I've always wanted to meet more people from space! My friends Changeling and Mega are wonderful, but it's just not the same." "Mr. Blake is...is a criminal, in your world?" O'Collach looked little short of poleaxed. Literally. It was the exact same kind of expression as that Company man in Liverpool who had come under the axe of that clockwork assassin, one of those cases that just sort of burst in on you. Shaking his head, the Irishman turned to survey the passing scenery. As well he might. Atlantis had lost much of its old glory, but in the eons since had been rebuilt into something wholly itself, all but vestiges of its surface past washed away. It was a coral reef shaped and refined into living architecture, great rings of wonder under a shimmering dome of mystic power. Heading along the great roads that quadsected the undersea citadel, the carriages passed throngs of well-wishers, squadrons from the royal army, ahorse, aloft or on foot and even knots of looming and aloof triton mercenaries. The sea above and air within the bubble were packed with craft and creatures made or tamed by the empire of the sea, each stranger and more magnificent than the last, spires or hammers of crystal and gods of muscle and fin. But even the enormous, milling throngs they went by, and the packed city streets they saw as they went through ring after ring, each vast enough to contain a city of its own, could not disguise the emptiness. In its day, over three hundred million people had lived in Atlantis. Now, there was perhaps a hundredth of that. The French ambassador had long since become enraptured, taking pictures with his phone and murmuring something with a smile tugging at his face. For the rest of the trip there was little more than idle chatter, until the party pulled up before a palatial assembly of gold-capped domes and towers formed like monstrous beasts, the bodies made of pure white stone. It was dark and silent, unlike the bustling, buzzing city all around it. Jumping lightly out, Thetis gallantly helped Lucien disembark from the carriage, ushering the rest of the dignitaries to follow her. "The Palace of Poseidon!" she announced gleefully "Most of it is beneath our feet, bonded to the very living rock of the Earthshaking Seafather's dominion. But you will have the run of the towers! Make sure you don't get lost, and always go in pairs!" The two Envoys and the princess sufficed to carry all the baggage the surface ambassadors had taken with them, and Thetis loudly complimented the humans for traveling so lightly and austerely. The tower Lucien and Dol-Druth turned out to be sharing was shaped like a horned squid, was sumptuously decorated and furnished and gave them a breathtaking view of the palace of the Atlan family a few kilometers away. This distant, all that could be seen was its size and color, making it resemble a crouching golden dragon, sleeping on a bed of onyx and jade. Breaking the silence, Dol-Druth asked bluntly "Sri Lockwood, what exactly are...ghosts?" His few worldly possessions were laid out carefully on the end table in the form of a Doric pillar supporting a flat map of the world from 150,000 years ago. A strange, gun-like object was in his hands, humming and clicking beneath his tapping, twisting fingers.

"Partial detachment with this dimension" as the alien floated gently to the floor, a previously-unnoticed thrumming in the air cut out abruptly. Handing the container of cake to the wheelchair-bound woman, Red Moon lowered her left hand onto the table with the rest of the teas. Then the hand kept going. It passed through soundlessly, leaving no mark or trace of its passage. Facing Nicole through the smoke that filled the inside of her helmet, two blue eyes shining through the cloud, Red Moon added "An unfortunate accident. Do not attempt to reverse-engineer cosmitec without following the proper safety procedures. In my youth I failed to heed this wisdom, so I am now confined to this terrasuit." "I think we could meet them here. Whatever they may be, they deserve civilized welcome. A chance to make a good first impression."

The Civic Rotunda had been undergoing a change of management(words that, to those in the know, struck a deep chord of terror) so getting a message to the Speaker had necessitated some real tooth-pulling. When finally contacted it had turned out that the Speaker had, quite unceremoniously and without word to anyone else, been sent "elsewhere until such time as we need him". Another Speaker had been dispatched in his place. In the stead of bloated and blustering Dol-Druth had come skeletal and terse Sur-Gor. encased from neck to heel in an ice-grey bodysuit that blurred whatever gender characteristics they carried. Their charcoal-grey skin stretched tight on hard muscle and prominent bone, and their antennae had been trimmed to better-fit an encounter suit helmet. All trip, they had remained in place without moving a muscle or speaking a word unless directly addressed or required to act. At the pilot's words they glanced up, for a moment, their hollow white eyes glaring from the skull. "We are in peak condition." Then the head was down again. Unlike Dol-Druth, Sur-Gor had made sure to very prominently display the non-lethal frazzer most civil servants carried as a precaution. Most anything didn't do well with plasma, and a current of electrons seemed to halt most attacks quickly enough. Suddenly the head darted up. "May we make preliminary contact with the refugee base? They may not be familiar with mentats, we should make them aware we have this capacity so they do not feel taken unawares."

Evi this is real good. Real, real good. Lots to work with, doesn't get bogged down in the weeds, good clear themes. Four 2/3 thumbs up. Only thing missing is a note about local criminal folks.

Olopi, a DC10 Fortitude save, if you would, to avoid being Sickened.

An invisible shadow on the world, Atraxia sped up the eccentrically-chunky tree towards her target. The pulsating mass of heat she could barely see amid the mass of leaves and gnarled branches. Pausing just a few feet below where she'd last spotted the slurry of psychic foci and fresh-flowing blood, the Red Moon gathered the psychic claws about her bony ones. She'd only rarely been forced to harm anyone in all her long years, and every time was so long after the last it took a renewed effort to steel herself. This is necessary, this is- Suddenly, the sounds of battle from elsewhere rang and howled through the air! <"No!"> Clamping a hand too late over her mouth, Atraxia launched at what she fervently hoped was the hiding place of her quarry, a skeletal arm tipped with bright-red claws of searing psionic hunger lashing through the leafs and twigs to strike- Nothing. <"Yotz to all this.">

Miss chance roll is a 6

Okay then! Red Moon will try to knock one of the elves out, flying up and making with the slice at their sweet, succulent soul. Attack roll is 15 I stand by it.

Olopi, a DC25 Knowledge(Arcane Lore) would be good for Sha'ir right now. Sailor, a DC30 Piloting check, please!

Hey Moira, Red Moon's initiative result was a 6, which puts her ahead of Salvo in the running. Or is she not part of that side of the scene so it doesn't apply?