Ari

~"It may be best, Sun Walker, if we let the others take point"~ Red Moon drifted up alongside her fellow Solarian and linked her arm with his. ~"We are very strange, even in such a cosmopolitan locale. As well, they are more aware of the current social and cultural tensions. For instance,"~ she inclined her helmeted head to Greasy Gear ~"Goodarm Gear, you know about these 'Nameless' while I am wholly ignorant of such. Would you lead us to this crime scene?"~ ~"Sri Praetorian,"~ she added brightly to Sitara ~"Your position and implicit authority would be invaluable, if you would act as our mouth."~ Inside the smoking, murky confines of the terrasuit, Atraxia couldn't help but feel the squishy comfort of the bloodbags she'd brought along for the ride. When they'd first arrived there had been a frantic, horrible moment when she'd though they had broken. But that was just one of the coolant tubes, it would keep. It had already leaked out and been soaked into her dessicated skin, and it would be easier to synthesize that than get a handle on suitable blood. Red Moon surveyed the broken vampire robot. How much difference between us, I wonder... ~"As well, this must be brought to the proper authorities as evidence of a crime. Does anyone know of anywhere this could be put?"~

Please do roll, Avenger!

@Kolohehonu You still up for this?

@Tiffany Korta If you'd like Spider can try for a Computers check to try and get into the system before whatever is happening finishes. Or do any number of other things, if you'd prefer. @Avenger Assembled Most relevant for his situation would be a History or Sense Motive, or Technology if he wants to figure on how psychic energy could affect his systems like that.

GM Spider As it happened, there was a whole extra green bar of signal strength for both her wifi and data, which even for hyper-connected Emerald South was an oddity. A relatively mundane server rack occupied half of what her compass app told Peri was the western(right hand) wall. A very neat, labeled system of cords ran across the other walls and ceiling to connect with the servers, grouped into color-coded series that corresponded to the wings or sectors or whatever the strange coloured Hanzi letters in the screens' corners were supposed to say. They didn't look like anything Peri had seen, not even while working at Subatdau Systems, where she had first encountered the Spdr Rig. Below Emerald Spider the guard kept at her exercise routine, switching to a slow Nestorian hymn. And very suddenly one of the monitor screens switched off. Then another. Then another. Then two. Then five. Then ten. There were dozens of windows, but from the look of things, as the main screen began to slowly clear, that wouldn't last long. Citizen With a final shout of "QUIET!" Hermits Ochre and Green got shakily back to their feet. There had been nothing in sight or sound that could have caused such distress. Just screaming gulls and sloshing grey-green waves rich with seaweed. "Cortex" From the way Green said it, it sounded like a curse "he can reach this far into the field?" Ochre was trembling, her voice strained as she began "Citizen, with respect, I think we'd better leave you and..." she glanced at OtherSharl. "Larhs" She shrugged "Yes, quiet-I mean...anyway. There's some psychic force that tries to invade our minds if we stray from the Fallen Heavens Complex. You and he are immune. If you check the tunnels you should find where your counterpart was attacked. Good luck Sharl." Without waiting for a reply the two Hermits hurried back to the dock, leaping up the thirteen feet block of concrete, into the facility and out of sight. 'Larhs' peered into the sewer tunnel, eyeing the metal corpses nervously. "They just throw them away..." he shook his head, doggedly fighting against the stopping and starting motivator "Any ideas? This all seems too much like a setup to me. Like they're trying to keep us away from the Complex. I could check the sewers while you go pull something useful out of the Hermits. Doubt there's anything in there, nothing dangerous anyway." ~Citizen!~ with a jolt, the link to Archetech West appeared in the corner of Sharl's vision ~That was the interference! That's why we couldn't figure it out, it's raw psychic energy! Nothing on record of anyone called 'Cortex' in the Northwest coast, though I have no idea how someone so powerful could stay hidden. Oh! Er,~ ~We've been trying to reach you for ten minutes, but this wall of we didn't know what sucked everything in like a black hole. We got desperate and tapped into your audio-visual feed, sorry about that. We cut that line when normal channels opened back up.~

They're blank bracelets around four inches broad and half an inch thick.They're quite tight and would require the usual DC30 Escape Artist check to get out of. They don't have any keyholes, either. Being immersed would not weaken their magnetic attraction. A Bluff check wouldn't go amiss.

GM One of the crew, a stocky and brawny fellow with a red grinning wolf mask, sidled a little into Roland's field of view, favouring the bound hydrokinetic with a sour eye. "The 'gems', as you term them, are crystalline formations growing from the manacles' absorption field. In due time, they will entirely cover your hands and carry on the device's work indefinitely. And if you need to urinate, sir, please be so good as to say so. This American vague insinuation business is intolerable." Hoisting Roland, chair and all, over one broad shoulder, the man told his fellows "Back in a bit. Need one other. Fox?" The fox-mask nodded, and the two fell in step out the door and into the building beyond. It was all grey corridors, beige walls and white doors with bare teal carpet. Some windows were passed, all papered over so whether it was day or night was impossible to tell. All Roland could hear besides the breathing and footsteps of his guards was a faint thrum of power running through the walls. Stopping before a pair of doors identical to every other pair they had passed on the way, wolf and fox released Roland from the chair and led him inside a strikingly clean restroom. All green and gold with antelopes on the walls. Stopping outside a stall, wolf took out a coin. "Heads or tails?" Fox paused, weighed his options. "Heads." "Your skin, not mine." Wolf flipped the coin into the air and caught it on the way down, slapping it onto his other wrist.' He sighed. "...Heads. Wait out in the hall, I'll shout if anything happens." "Got it." Wolf let Roland into the stall, closed the door after him and barked "Well, get on with it. Your fingers still work."

Not this time, that works out fine! By the way, Tiff, would you roll Knowledge(Business) and Knowledge(Technology)?

"Alright!" Hyperslice's tail lashed nervously back and forth as she peered into the monitor "Plan A: I will jump into the ssship, carrying Barrier, and together we will fffree the crew and defffeat what piratesss are in that room. Then I will jump to the computer core and obtain what we ssseek. With Sssri Barrier'sss asssissstance the crew ssshould have no diffficulty repelling the piratesss and retaking their vesssel." Slithering around to face the other two Praetorians, Skirris bobbed back and forth and side to side as she worked out the jitters that had plagued her since they'd come within sensor-range of their quarry. Her plan largely revolved around Barrier doing most of the work, since Skirris knew she couldn't possibly keep a secret like "we're here to spy on you" from the people they hoped to rescue. "I can jump usss there anytime we wisssh," Hyperslice added reassuringly, with a dismissive flick of an armored hand "there isss nothing here we cannot handle!"

The Red Lion, or Prince Baako of Dakana, was once the celebrated and beloved heir-apparent of King M'balla of Dakana. However, the recent upset victory of his sister Tafari in the White Lion Trials, as well as his own, crushing defeat in them, exposed a dark side of the young man who went into self-imposed exile. He reappeared as the supercriminal Red Lion, attacking Dakanan interests outside the guarded and quasi-isolationist kingdom and stealing or destroying daka crystals and technology that uses them. He claims to be preventing the 'exploitation of [his] peoples' genius and superior nature' by 'imperialist' forces. Surprisingly, he has amassed a large number of disciples, though largely non-Dakanans. Most recently, he and his followers stole some of the long-range sensor components off of the US nuclear submarine Columbia.

Yes Scion would absolutely know enough ins and outs to see that this douchemonger is being the ol' illiterate lawyer.

In the cavernous hanger bay of Covic Station, ships from worlds no human eye had ever seen rested, drifted, coiled or blossomed or bubbled in the hollowed-out heart of a dead god. Another, a silver teardrop, fell silently through the membrane of the station's forcefield, landing on a small platform that rose up to greet it, the hanger shifting subtly to accommodate the new arrival. The station was dead, but its body could still be jolted into compliance and reaction, as the Lor engineers, Grue lifeshapers and Free Space starhearts had discovered. A twisted kind of magic now ran through the station, giving Covic an atmosphere similar to a cathedral turned into a torture pit turned into a mall. The silver teardrop opened a round aperture. Dol-Druth, the Speaker of Dotrae and voice of the manyminded insectoid Lor, a pallid mountain of flesh filling an iridescent beige suit glittering with black letters denoting his name and station, stepped through. He paused with half his body still inside the ship and filling the hatchway. He turned his enormous head back to where he'd come from. "Sri Steward! We request your assistance. Again." With a jerk the Speaker hurtled awkwardly out of the ship, stumbling to a halt on his short, stocky legs and panting furiously. Taking out a small container, he spritzed a little solution around his twitching, slender antennae and began to stump for the slidewalk that had curled up to the teardrop's ramp. Tapping out the address Ser-Vai of the lower decks maintenance crew read off through his species-wide mental link, Dol-Druth blithely carried on the conversation he'd been very insistent he and Earth's third Star Knight have during the trip. "Anyway, we still hold that Earth's governments could be united given a single, universal threat. We have observed how all nations and persons on Terres are defined by outsiders, what they set themselves in opposition to and do what their neighbours do not. The Unity, still hungering for the subversion and absorption of all other life, is enemy to all, especially to such cultures as yours that stress individualism. Expansion into space is, you all already agree, necessary." "It would alleviate the strain on your resources, the feuds over territory, and the risk of all life on Earth being destroyed if that meteorite you call Apophis crashes into Terres next round. All that stands in its way is the unprofitable expense of space travel, which, again, could be surmounted just by making inroads to the Farsiders. Think it over, we urge you. We are accomplished at making friends." With a final tap the slideway twisted and shifted, realigning itself for one of the far archways glimmering with the sheen of melted metal. "Speaker!" A hologram shimmered into being beside Dol-Druth. A trim and meticulous Star Navy officer with the finned ears and webbed hands of the Pisceans. Smiling apologetically, the officer bowed slightly "Welcome to Covic Station, Speaker. This is Oversight Chief Morosaut. On behalf of the Security Force, we hope your visit on Election Day is safe and productive. May the strongest candidate be chosen. Proceed down the slideway to the ambassadors' lounge." "We thank you, may the wisest be chosen." Dol-Druth bent his cumbersome girth briefly and waited for his escort to disembark before stepping onto the humming self-propelling causeway. "Another recorded message will be transmitted at recognition of the Star Knight Sri Kyle Steward." Dol-Druth's antennae twitched irritably. "We forget, Star Knight, does your position allow you to vote despite a developing homeworld?"

Current Events, if you will!

GM All earned points to the Salmon, please: Link Bloody Work : 2GM posts Do It Again : 3GM posts Edison vs Tesla 2k17 : 3GM posts Escape From York Hill : 1GM post Freedom Needs Green : 2GM posts Infinite by Inches 2GM posts Stronghold Blues : 2GM posts The Death Song : 2GM posts Hyperslice Calculating the Abyss : 1IC post Red Moon Blood Runs Cold : 1IC post Salmon From Beneath You It Devours: So Do Our Minutes Hasten : 1IC post Everything Is Illegal Here! : 3IC posts Speaker April/May Vignette: Neither/Nor Meeting of the Minds on an Exponential Level 2IC posts

/

13. They go along with it, picking up the Subtle Hints as well.

You can totally try. (Spoilers though, the manacles have daka crystals embedded in them which drain the psionic field Roland generates to control water. We can have HIM find out about that, if you like)

(Which is to say, you'd get a bonus to a Sleight of Hand roll if done in the context of angling for small talk with the guards)

They're restless and grumbling amongst themselves, but they don't seem like mercenaries. From their attitude and general deference to the Prince they seem like honest companions. Roland wouldn't have to work hard to set them at their ease by not obviously trying to escape.

Yes, you have free reign of the tiny, cramped room full of eight dudes and a chair. The restraints feel like gem-studded titanium bracelets magnetically linked together. They're snug, but Roland could get out of them, given time and non-supervised conditions. Would You Like To Know More?

GM The man in red bristled "It's significance, Weekend, is that it is why my kingdom has survived. Why my people were able to escape the depredations of European invasion. Its value is in cementing my foothold in the land I was meant to rule." The man in red tossed the suitcase to one of the men behind Roland. "And do not think I miss your threat, Weekend. A little here, a sprinkle there, and soon all of it will be gone and in my hands. They are very public figures, yes. Which will make their loss of Dakana's stolen treasure all the sweeter. I have already stolen all of daka to be found in the rest of this country. Once I have ensured your powers will serve me, I can gather the rest at my leisure. Another year will be nothing." Despite the shimmering mask, Roland vaguely picked up a frown. "Do not underestimate your value, Weekend. If you knew how much suffering could be undone by turning the course of a river, even that tourist Tsunami wouldn't waste her time thrashing brigands and drug-addled meta-criminals. Once the repairs to your brain patterns are complete, you will forget about these paltry dreams of crime-fighting and bend your powers to the service of the weak. As I have." "Men, your Lion will return shortly. There is brief business to be concluded downstairs. Keep your eyes on the prisoner." With a curt nod, the man in red stepped out of the room and marched down the hall, soon out of eye and earshot. "What a clown," Roland heard one of the men behind him mutter "What else would we do?"

Sailor, will you give me a Notice check, and a History check of Torpedo Lass's Intelligence and Profession bonuses?

GM Unsteadily at first, but with each step stronger than the last, Rebecca was drawn toward the stage. Her cramped face loosening into a faint smile as she hopped up onto the stained wooden dais and edged next to Valerie. Taking the mic like someone in a dream, Rebecca took a deep breath and glanced briefly at Val, just to make sure she was really there. Meeting Val's eyes, she shivered and closed her own. A moment later a voice clear and strong as diamond soared from the speakers. Leaping, gliding from note to note, entwining itself with the melody and turning the human voice into a thing of transcendent magnificence. It didn't matter that the speakers wavered, that the power flickered dangerously after Rebecca came alongside Val and Jane. The ghost, who could only barely keep herself from bouncing with glee right out of Val's body, bent a little of her spectral might to coax submission out of the electronics. The Bedlamites, who had quieted while expecting disaster after the new girl came onstage, roared and flung things with relief and pleasant shock, some of them tussling off into the dark to seize a rare moment of beauty and joy. It was almost a shame when the music finally had to draw to a close. The lights slowly dimmed, the crowd dispersed even slower, the road crew started to dismantle the stage equipment. Little by little the magic was torn down. "That...That was amazing," Becca(as she'd introduced herself) blurted with a giddy grin as she, Val and Jane left the stage "I haven't sung for months! Not since-" she checked herself sharply, her face apologetic "Family stuff, you know." Suddenly, she stopped. "Hey, uh...Ms-er, Val? I..I have a band. Not nearly as good as yours, of course, but we get by. Would" she shuffled a little, looking for a moment like the lonely little thing Val had plucked from the sidelines "would you be alright singing with us, before you go?" 'It will be a while before I go,' Jane murmured 'At least three days. Could you, Valerie?' "When we're back together after one of Roger's blowups, we play at the Circle Perk downtown, near the community college. It's kind of a dumb, post-anti-ironic s###hole, but the crowds are good and they know good music when they hear it." Becca smiled hopefully.

Red Moon can finally prove once and for all that Hell don't real.

So mysterious Wayward isn't even being asked to try and detect this passing, irrelevant, superfluous addition to my ultra-tight narrative of Wayward helping a ghost help her help a random young lady get some. Nothing to see here.