Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'geckoman'.
-
As both an alumi and fellow educator Mike found himself at the Claremont Academy not infrequently. He had at times advised students before. But this mentorship program was a rare visit not in his mild mannered grade school teacher persona but as Phalanx and while his secret identity was by most reckoning the worst kept secret among heroes he at least attempted to draw a firm line between the two. One he hoped his partner for hte mornings event would abide. Though Geckoman was nowhere to be seen yet, not that running late was entirely out of character, and if truth be told Phalanx had arrived slightly early in his efforts not to be late. He kept a wary ear for the sound of the Pitchoo just in case as he waited cape blowing faintly in the low breeze and head just shy of brushing the rafters of the small pavilion adjacent to the gardens where he was to meet his fellow alumni and any students he might offer some measure of comfort and he hoped wisdom.
-
February 2019 Freedom City All your lies exposed - two worlds in collision! Deceiver - what will you do then? The best I can! Inside Copycat's faux-porcelain mask, Ashley George opened her eyes to where she crouched alone on the roof of one of Freedom City's more anonymous skyscrapers - a Brutalist tower that had survived the 1970s, two Terminus invasions, and various other crises with no more than now-repaired cosmetic damage. The flat rooftop (minus the usual equipment one found on the roof of tall buildings) was the sort no one would look too closely at in a city full of weird gargoyles, public art, and superheroes. It was actually the perfect place for a quiet conversation, especially if you were dressed like - well, dressed in a costume that had seemed appropriate when she was sixteen, an unholy merger of the Raven's cape and cowl and the white mask of someone cosplaying as a Chesire cat. She hadn't dressed as Copycat in more than a decade. But then this wasn't exactly a meeting Watchdog could attend; nor could Secret Service Agent Ashley George. She sat - and waited for Geckoman and the third Raven. She'd called, telling them there was a problem with her mission - but would they answer?
-
@Ecalsneerg @KnightDisciple Let's see die rolls!
-
Spring 2018 Outside Chris and Liz's Apartment Ashley remembered Chris - pretty and athletic, with a quick wit and a ready smile that had made him the subject of a whole lot of crushes. Maybe sixteen-year-old Ashley George, who'd spent her teen years behind heavy acne and thick glasses, had been one of those crushes. But ten years ago could be a long time, and she wasn't the same person she'd been back then. "And you're sure he won't mind us just dropping by like this?" With her hair up, folder under her arm, dressed in a dark suit, she didn't look like a teenager - something she'd have to take advantage of as long as she could. "I am fairly confident Christopher knows that you could find him easily enough," said Callie Summers as she knocked on the door. They'd managed to stay civil enough on the drive over here, probably because neither of them had said a word to each other once they were both in the car. "And you should."
-
Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship! December 16, 9:07 PM "Alright, we're locked up," Erik Espadas confirmed as he rounded the gap in the wall between the dojo's entryway and the training space. With the blinds drawn over the big front windows and a few more sophisticated measures in place the small group gathered were ready for their planned after-hours class. Unlike usual the mats were littered with piled weights, cardboard boxes and anything else that had been handy and looked like it might make for an inconvenient obstacle. "Remember, we're working on mobility tonight," he reminded the deceptively lanky man and the woman with short black hair in front of him, folding his bare arms across his plain white workout shirt. They could have easily been a pair of the college students who frequented his intermediary self-defence classes. "That means something a little different for you two than the rest of us so I figured it was past time you compared notes." The fencer let a lopsided grin split his businesslike demeanour as he stepped back toward far corner where Talya and Steve were watching. "That said, loser has to mop the footprints off my ceiling." In the apartments up above Ellie Espadas held her breath as she tip-toed out of the nursery, hoping against hope that her newest niece and nephew would stay asleep at least long enough to get back to the kitchen. Either one of them crying inevitably woke the other and even with three pairs of hands helping she wasn't sure how their parents were coping. Making it down the hallway and all the way to the kitchen table the med student silently raised a pair of crossed fingers as she sat down between Min and Mara. "And I thought pulling a double at Trinity took it out of you," she drawled just barely louder than a whisper. "Please tell me there's coffee or tea or something."
-
This is the OOC. Feel free to ask me quite literally anything about the thread, especially if it doesn't make sense. I've likely missed something. Dunno how many men there are. Let's see...three on the ground floor, covering the security guards. 5 or 7 per floor. So...somewhere between 38 and 52. Minion rules are in effect for everyone but "Cowboy". And they miiiiight have backup. Or not. Who knows? Fighty fighty.
-
October 16, 2016. Freedom City. Parkside. The Hayward Building. 12:05 AM. Everything seemed quiet on the top floor of the Hayward Building. This floor, and the seven below it, belonged to New Horizon Media. However, the actual media operations were housed elsewhere. Virtually no one, aside from a few night owls, would normally be in the corporate HQ at this hour. Or anywhere else in the building, for that matter. Tonight was different. Five minutes earlier, precisely, three nondescript delivery vans pulled up in front of the building, and armed men boiled out of them and inside. The front desk was taken completely by surprise and was forced to surrender immediately or be shot. The men had a military bearing and their weapons and gear fit it to a T. A team went up in each elevator. They quickly and quietly secured each floor. Now (as in five minutes later), the men were in total control. However, the plan was not to take the building. Their employer was only interested in one piece of information. It was locked away in an windowless executive office, on a unplugged USB. So when the man in the ten gallon hat kicked in the door, it was not exactly a surprise to the occupant. Her name was Amanda Walton, and she’d been riding herd on the European News division for nearly twenty years. The man in the hat addressed her in an exaggerated drawl. “I reckon you know what I’ve come for. Give it to me, and this can stay nice and civilized.” Walton was flatly unafraid. She’d seen a lot, from being raised dirt poor in Detroit, to reporting on heinous crimes across the Eastern Hemisphere. “The truth will come out, Cowboy. Just a matter of time. Wheeler can’t keep your existence secret forever.” “Cowboy” shrugged. “Probably right. But you know how he is. Man gets what he wants.” The situation was tense. However, this was Freedom City. Even in the middle of the night, could it really be possible that nobody noticed this brazen crime in progress?
-
GM Saturday, October 15th, 2016 Ashton Mall, West Freedom, Freedom City 3:23 PM It was a quiet day at Ashton Mall. A light rain, barely enough to be noticed made people stay inside, wheter at home, or at various public places. Ashton Mall was one of them. While there was quite a crowd, it was a peaceful one, families doing their weekly shopping, teenagers hanging out, people meeting for events in stores. A small crowd had formed in front of a set of TVs, showcasing a new Episodic TV series premiering later this month, some people were sitting inside a hobby store. A sale at a local independent clothes store had attracted some people too, looking for high quality clothes. All in all, it was business as usual. Amongst the shoppers was Chris Kenzie, currently on the mall’s uppermost floor, not far below the roof, made almost entirely of glass, only a few beams supporting it. Many people disliked the roof being set up like this, but on rainy days, it had a pleasant look, the water slowly running down the slight incline. And then, suddenly, Chris felt like this day was about to change. A noise was approaching, one suggesting that things were about to heat up. Distant at first, it became louder at a rapid pace. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” And then, the screaming was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking. A lot of glass breaking, as whoever had been screaming hit the middle of the mall’s roof, causing most of it to break and rain glass shards (and water) down, across the mall.
-
Monday April 25 Trinity Hospital After the events in Ocean Heights, Rhode Island, and Mexico, the heroes of Freedom City (and indeed the world) are aware of the global threat of the Makot Mitzrayim - the Plagues of Egypt. The threat isn't just the Plagues, of course, but the people driven to hysteria (one way or another) by an apocalypse that seems ("but only seems" Seven stressed in her briefing sent to the major superteams) to correspond to that of the three largest religions on Earth. The Interceptors in particular, thanks to Harrier and Echo's report from down in Mexico, have gotten a strong picture of what's going on. But with only one attack in Freedom City proper, it's easy for most people to let life go on. In the West End in the last few days there's been a freakishly rare flu epidemic, one of those bizarre moments that can happen in a city full of people and exposed to all sorts of exotic chemicals, viruses, and other ailments over the years. Things are bad enough that the hospital is nearly full, getting them to send non-emergency cases home, and they've called out volunteer doctors from other hospitals to help deal with the crisis. The flu can be a scary disease for parents, the elderly, the unlucky - especially when it turns to pneumonia. So if the hospital chapel is particularly packed with people praying for their families and themselves, well, maybe it has nothing to do with the Plagues of Egypt. At least until you turn on the news - and catch the continued cleanup elsewhere in the city, the nation, the world. But the heroes of Freedom have dealt with worse than this...right?
-
September 5, 2015 It started with a wave of car thefts from the edge of the West End, all of them parked, secured vehicles in the parking lots of the many strip malls and other commercial areas that took up space between the West End and the growing suburbs of Ashton and Grenville. Then came the dumpsters, emptying out without a trace, and then finally vanishing themselves. When store owners put out security cameras and caught glowing lights surrounding their missing property before it vanished, they called their local superheroes for help. This meant the Interceptors - this meant stakeout. A little investigation revealed what looked to be a regular pattern to the thefts; and suggested the next place the thieves would strike. The team was currently occupying the next location on the list; a strip mall adjoining a small stretch of scrub woods that had for the moment escaped the growth of the city all around them. This late, only the all-night liquor store anchoring one end of the complex was open; the rest of the businesses, like much of the neighborhood, were sleeping. Luckily, Steve had a face for customer service, and so behind the counter he sat in the uniform of Al's Liquor Store, his scarred face and brusque demeanor making him seem 'like the kind of person who would work at a liquor store late at night." He wasn't entirely sure he understood what that meant; but he'd been given a mission by his team and he did his job. He knew the other Interceptors were on the case too. Of course, they weren't the only people out tonight trying to solve the mysterious disappearances...
-
Here we go
-
From the album: Alder's Artistry
I was going to work on my to-do list but instead doodled the end of this thread. Ink and color work will wait until I whittle down my pending requests a bit.© k keppeler
-
March 20, 2015 It wasn't that Erik Espadas was expecting trouble, not really, but he subscribed to the idea that it paid to be the one carrying the biggest stick. Or to be friends with the people carrying the biggest sticks, anyway. When they'd worked out the rough schedule for Min's pregnancy nobody had been particularly surprised to find her due date landed on the vernal equinox. After the unexpected 'visit' by his extended family in the House of Swords for the birth of his first daughter, though, a whole different sort of planning had seemed in order this time around, just to be safe. Stesha had offered to host them on Sanctuary, of course, but even with one or two super-powered healers on hand the idea of being in a whole different reality from the closest modern hospital made Erik a little nervous. If he were being completely honest with himself there was also the fact that he wanted his second child to be born in Freedom City's West End just as he had. If was their home and he wasn't about to let anyone chase them out. That said, even if they weren't going to an earth goddess, the earth goddess could still come to them. A good section of the first floor of the Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship (!) was covered in toys where Stesha was keeping watch over Eden and Amaryllis laughing and playing, chatting amiably with Gina. Nearby Mara and Liz were engaged in an animated discussion of tweaks and improvements to the building's security over a folding table covered in computer equipment including a laptop displaying Vince's neon-green suit wearing avatar. They'd sent Chris out to get food mostly because it seemed like the only way to keep him from standing watch on the top of the building in full costume while Steve had insisted on standing guard, gargoyle like, outside of the second floor apartment where Ellie was making her sister-in-law comfortable. Yolanda had taken up a position across from Steve, solemnly following the taciturn bald man's example. It was, all told, a small army of love and support. Not that that stopped Erik himself from pacing back and forth with nervous energy, his gaze jumping back and forth between the stairs, the clock and Eden, hands clasped behind his back.
-
Outer edge of the Sol System The Communion's attack on Earth had been repulsed by many of the planet’s heroes, working alongside several military and extra-governmental forces. For the moment, the planet was safe. But the Communion's world killer weapon was still positioned at the outer edge of the solar system, barely held in check by the Freedom League and their allies. With reports reaching back to the Freedom League and Earth's heroes from the Star Knights about a fleet of Communion ships headed towards the Sol System, possibly to try to assist in getting the world killer free, it was decided that merely holding the world killer at bay was no longer a viable solution. So the remaining League members on Earth had begun gathering a number of volunteers to try to help destroy the world killer before the Communion relief fleet could arrive. The gathering of the various heroes coincided with the return of one of Earth's Star Knights, Kyle Steward, who had firsthand experience against the Communion's deadly weapon. Now, Geckoman was behind the controls of one of the League's Pegasus spaceplanes, flying a rather odd collection of heroes to help in the fight against the world killer….
-
15th April 2005 "So are you sure this is the place?" said the young woman, looking skeptically at the building in front of them. It hardly seemed the place to go for a biology consult. Hell, it looked like an apartment building. The man beside her checked his email on his smartphone. "Yuuup. Sharl said it was here. Something about a fake front to the building" After they'd got in contact during the problem with the Communion, Geckoman and Sharl had stayed loosely in contact. Being a member of Young Freedom was, while really only a big deal during school, still a thing. They'd all presumably come running if one member sent out an SOS. Or help out if one came asking around. "You ready to go in?" Liz Lawlett sighed. "Well, we've tried a bunch of stuff, Kenzie. This'd hardly be the weirdest place we've asked about this. Come on." She strode on into the gym, long black coat whipping around her ankles as she went. Chris hurried after her, until they hit the door. "How do we get in?" "I don't know, you know the weird digital guy." "He's not that weird! Ummmm." Geckoman reached out and pressed a buzzer down for a few seconds. Then the one below it. Then another below that. "Hit the buttons until someone answers?"
-
Geckoman Christopher James Kenzie is the civilian identity of the superhero Geckoman. Born May 17th, 1992, he became Geckoman when he was only 16, and as such has had as long a crime fighting career as many older heroes. A graduate of the Claremont Academy, former member of Young Freedom, and current member of the Interceptors, he has fought many foes, from the pettiest street thug, to cosmic horrors from other dimensions. History (Placeholder) Costume and Appearance Height: 5'1''; Weight: 175lbs; Hair colour: Brown; Eye colour: Brown To passers-by, Chris Kenzie looks like a twenty-something slacker. Messy brown hair, stubble, wearing rumpled jeans and t-shirts, and with a perpetually cocky smile spread across his face. A closer examination would reveal he is in great physical shape, with a lean acrobat's build. He typically favours a similar colour scheme to the one he wears in costume; a usual outfit is a yellow t-shirt with a green leather jacket. When operating as Geckoman, he wears a costume of lurid green of yellow. The specific patterning on it has varied over the years, but the core design has stayed the same. A bright green jumpsuit with a large yellow G emblazoned across the chest. A belt harness of pouches and weaponry, also in yellow. And a full head mask, open only for the mouth and to a large round pair of thick orange goggles. The distinctive design, after his many years of service, is instantly recognisable. Variants have included suits of darker green, or suits with more complex harnesses for the carriage of more gadgets and weaponry. Powers Geckoman's powers derive from a nanite serum which rewrote his genome to have many enhanced abilities bearing a coincidental similarity to those of a gecko. His most powerful ability is his body's ability to heal and repair injuries at a rapid rate, bruises and abrasions vanishing in seconds, and even mortal wounds and missing limbs regrowing in a matter of hours. Despite being a passive ability, Geckoman has honed this ability to allow him to function past the point most human beings would injure their own bodies performing at; letting him run faster, jump higher, and endure high levels of pain and discomfort. He also possesses preternatural senses, including a vastly enhanced sense of smell, an ability to see in lower light conditions and in the infrared spectrum. Geckoman has swifter reflexes and spatial awareness, increasing his reaction times and hand-eye co-ordination. His most iconic ability is, of course, the ability to cling to sheer surfaces with his hands and feet, supporting his own weight and that of others while retaining adhesion. Atop his superhuman powers, Geckoman's education, experience and training with the Raven and Jack of all Blades has made him a deadly individual in his own right. Physically he is in peak condition, his already-fast reflex honed to superhuman levels. At a push, he can pursue cars on foot, make hundred foot leaps, and rip doors off their hinges. He is skilled in multiple martial arts, notable capoiera, savate, zui quan and tae kwon do, with proficiency in several weapons. Geckoman is a skilled detective, driver, escape artist, and is by most metrics one of the most skilled pilots in the solar system. Despite his many skills and abilities, Geckoman is far from unstoppable. While fast, tough and regenerating, he is ultimately unable to take more damage than any other man in good physical condition. His heightened sense of smell renders him more vulnerable to assaults using gases or scents, and while skilled in many forms of combat, cannot truly be said to be as skilled as masters of those arts. Allies (Friends and teammates of your character, special relationships, family members) (Sidekick, HQ, Etc) (Create additional paragraphs for special features your character has. If they have a headquarters, describe it, how it is equipped, where it is located, how the hero came to have it. If they have a sidekick, the sidekick may warrant their own page, or simply a paragraph about them on the hero's page. You can also make sections for favored devices, your character's profession, or anything else you want to talk about.) Timeline (The timeline is a useful reference to all the threads your character has been in. The easiest way to make a timeline is to start with the year your character began, in the season they were introduced, and list all their threads in that season using the unordered-list button (buttons instead of numbers.) For every full year your character has been in play, start a new year in the timeline, with seasons listed Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, and Fall running till the Winter Solstice or all the way till the New Year. Make a link to the thread for easy later reference, and add a blurb describing what happened in that thread. The blurb can be as short or as long as is necessary to convey the important things that happened, or at least to give an idea.)
-
For making rolls as necessary!
-
December 25, 2014 South Pole Basin Lunar Farside It is not true that Farsiders never leave their city, merely that such events are rare and usually for a purpose. The construction of the South Pole station by Farsiders had been one such purposeful occasion, one launched over a Terran century ago by a Farsider monarch concerned about a recent Terran visit to the Moon. (Some Terran visitors to Farside City have pointed out that the Apollo missions took place over six decades later, but the Farsiders have the records of earlier 'interlopers' to show skeptical visitors of today.) With its neutrino detectors and concealed telescopes, the South Pole station is well-placed to directly monitor doings on Earth. Or for that matter, as Lady Lunar proved in the early 1980s, to strike at it. A collection of intellects vast and furious on Earth had realized the station's potential not long after the Communion crisis began - concealed as the station was, it was the perfect place to strike at an enemy in Earth orbit by surprise. What had been a location for observation could become a location for misdirection; a notion that appealed to the ruling government of Farside City, which liked the idea of saving the world they orbit without their true role ever being known. (Farsiders do love their secrets!) And so, for much of the last two months, the greatest minds of Earth have come to its only natural satellite with a singular purpose. To build a machine to protect the planet from the Communion! Steve Murdock had offered what advice he could during its construction, but his experience with dimensional technology was all practical. It had come down to Dragonfly's specific genius and Miss Americana's vast storehouse of general knowledge to put the great work into practice. Caradoc, and the other non-scientists in the party of heroes guarding the weapon (as Steve was not allowed to call it around his employer) had rapidly found another role in the small lunar colony. Lunar soil ashy beneath his feet, Caradoc raised his gleaming blade to the sky, the shining tip above the heads even of the tallest Farsiders in their environmental suits. A new group of Farsider militiamen had been deployed that week - and their usual trainers were busy with an Earth-Prime holiday, an important one, but one that he could miss while Gina Evans was safely ensconced in the tiny pre-fab quarters that she had occupied for the last month. There would be time enough for celebration when the work was done. He spoke over the radio. "Your enemy will target your environmental suits first! They are not pirates, or conquerors, or enslavers. Your dead flesh will feed their ever-growing armies." He lowered his blade as the group shifted uneasily, and for a moment there was dead silence on the lunar plain besides the domed Farsider military base even on the radio frequencies they used to speak with each other outside the dome.
-
Here is the OOC thread.
-
GM Sunday, 14th December The High Steaks Casino / Restaurant Early Evening Sasha Shots was dressed to kill. And that was her aim. Not a shot through the heart. At least not the ballistic type. Her target was Geckoman, and she was dressed to make him swoon. It was a simple matter - she had poured herself into a hot little black cocktail dress of high expense, adorned herself with a few choice expensive jewels and jewelry, and applied her face paint. Sasha Shots was a journalist of average capabilities. What did make her valuable was a body to die for and a face to weep over. She was the new "face" of media, sweating pure sex appeal. And the corner of High Steaks, overlooking both the ground floor eating, and the raised area where gambling of all sorts took place, was hers. It was an opera booth of sorts. She checked her watch. Would Geckoman be late? The Daily Herald has publically invited him here today to give his "side" of the story, under the headline "Geckoman? Has he the Geckoballs?" The crowd below were packed, both gamblers and diners (and a large number who were both), all craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the "Rogue Reptile!"
-
OOC for A social conflict thread for Geckoman, defending his reputation from the Daily Herald.
-
GM Just past midnight... ...September the 5th... ...Outside MAX MEDICINES!... The Van had caught Geckoman's eye. Was it too clean? Was it parked illegally? Was the engine running for too long, with no movement? Was it the five men that got out, and took a crowbar to the back door of MAX MEDICINES? It was cool night, but clear. The stars and moon lit up Freedom City, and in the North End, the soft amber roses of street lights always kept it bathed in a warm light. This almost looked to obvious. It was not quite the clumsy break and entry of street kids, grabbing a TV for their next fix of whatever drug had hit the streets this month. It was hardly a professional job either. It hovered in between. It was odd, however that no alarm went off... Geckoman could smell something on the crooks. Some kind of sickly sweet pheremone or scent. Not falling into unpleasant or pleasant either, just something that was distinctive.
-
OOC for a
-
November 10, 2014 A hyperlight signal crossed the vast interstellar network, ricocheting off Lor communications stations a moment before the stations were deluged by word of the apocalypse that had befallen the homeworld. Further and further out into the Orion Arm it went, passing by the populated worlds of the galaxy as it headed into a remote galactic backwater that held one insignificant yellow dwarf and a small system of eight planets. It hit the unmanned station the Lor had left in Pluto orbit decades earlier and headed in one last burst for Earth, passing by the Lighthouse and heading straight for its source - Archetech. In a darkened laboratory, Sharl Tulink arrived on his hands and knees, screaming. "NO!" Instinctively, he reached out mentally into the surrounding network, both the building's power grid and the computers all around him. The lights flared up at his command and the computers came to life, the primitive technology and raw naturalism of Terra a sharp contrast to the sterile, doomed world he'd left behind him. As the Terran computers booted up, Sharl fought the natural urge to dive directly into their systems and not stop running through that primitive wireless network until he reached the familiar confines of Tronik - but of course that wouldn't really solve anything, would it? Instead, he raised his head and got up off the floor - though of course being a holographic projection he'd only barely been on it in the first place. He reached out into the surrounding network of the city and called a familiar number. "Gina!" he called, remembering old distress signals easily enough. "Code 404!"
-
"Stories?" Eden Espadas inquired with a hopeful inflection as she ducked her head under her aunt's elbow and pulled herself up onto Ellie's lap to get a better look at the medical text open on the table in front of them. With a small laugh, Ellie shifted the toddler about into a safer position. "Not exactly, Edie. Y'know how tu papa teaches people here? This is how I learn how to be a doctor." She'd set herself up at a deck on the dojo's first floor partly so that she could take advantage of the light coming in through the large front windows and partly so she could keep an eye on her niece as she played on the pads covering most of the floor. Chris had also mentioned something about coming by to work on the security systems in the headquarters hidden in the converted bomb shelter under their feet and with her brother and sister-in-law out celebrating their anniversary she wanted to watch the door in the meantime. Eden looked equally skeptical at the idea of a book that wasn't for stories as she did about her aunt being a doctor. She liked Ellie, after all, and she knew she didn't enjoy visiting the doctor much at all. She could only assume it was another case of an adult trying to be funny. They did that a lot.
