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Sophistemon

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About Sophistemon

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  1. Psichology [IC]

    The savagery on display turns Steiner's stomach, and his averts his gaze from Warne's gleeful use of his mind's more destructive potential. That man's hand would never function properly again, and based on what Samuel knew of Warne it was likely the agent would never forgive himself for what he'd been forced by Berns' strange power to do. The explosion shocked him back to reality. He wanted to stay, to help, but was able to remind himself that what he was seeing had already happened. Warne survived, likely scarred but alive, and there was nothing Presto could do to change the past. Then he saw the hole, and the subconsciously conjured ladder leading down. Unfortunately, it was being guarded by the liquid-black monster. Convenient and inconvenient, respectively. "Can't risk running for it," the magician grumbled to himself. "Have to distract it somehow." Being able to use his magic would make this a much simpler thing, but of course that would bring Warne's other mental defenses down on him like a ton of bricks, defeating the purpose. Thinking quickly, the former criminal cast his eyes around for something to pick up and throw to the other side of the room. Hopefully the creature would go chasing after it, allowing Steiner enough time to make a break for the ladder.
  2. Active Threads for September 2017

    Game Master: Heavy Metal Christmas. (Please allocate points to Upgrade) Lights, Camera, Action! (Please allocate points to Punchline) Viva Val Verde! (Please allocate points to Presto the Preposterous) Presto the Preposterous: Psichology.
  3. Viva Val Verde (IC)

    @Blarghy The boy nodded and motioned for Warne to follow after him as he jogged towards the building. "/Perez hanged people,//" he said. "/My cousin Ruiz went to a protest once, to complain about the price of bread and toilet paper. The police came and arrested everyone, and we never saw Ruiz again. The government sent my uncle and aunt a letter letting them know where he was buried.//" He opened the doors to the museum and pulled Warne inside. It was a large building, and brightly lit. The exhibits in the main hall seemed to focus on Val Verde's founding, and there was a scale model of the original ship that carried the Spanish missionaries to the island. Other displays showed the missionaries interacting with the natives, the construction of the mission, the original disagreement, and then finally the battle of Puerto Rojo. Native art and artifacts lined the walls, covered in glass cases, and people milled about, chatting aimlessly as they browsed. @Heritage The servant looked at Lynn's hand on her arm -- the color of their skins clashed in a pleasing way -- and smiled. "/I am Camila,//" she said. "/Please, follow me and I will draw you a bath. You both must be very tired; it is a long way to Val Verde from Freedom City.//" She led the two women down another hallway, and up a short flight of stairs to the visitor's suites. The room she showed them was, as Samuel had promised, exceptional. It appeared that despite having stripped much of the opulence from the rest of the palace, Gallo had recognized the importance of pampering his guests and had left the suites alone. "/This can be your room, miss,//" she told Lynn. Then she looked at Gretchen and indicated the room next door. "/And that can be yours. We have no other visitors, so please feel free to make yourselves comfortable. Shall I draw you each a bath while you relax?//"
  4. Lights, Camera, Action! (IC)

    Gabby nods, but her mother Shondra shakes her head vigorously from side to side so that the beaded braids clack together like clucking tongues. "No!" she blurts. "Not without my baby! Jason's out there alone with that madman and if you think I'm going to leave when he's in trouble you're out of your mind!" Gabby huffed air through her nose and placed a hand on her mother's shoulder. The muscles beneath the older woman's skin are tensed and trembling; she's like a wire ready to snap. "Mom," Gabby says. "Look at them, mom." She directed her mother's gaze to the assemblage -- a blonde young woman that practically radiated power, a grimly noble (or nobly grim) man in a dark suit whose smoldering eyes burned with a promise of justice, and an armored amphibian whose bizarre physiology was less terrifying than it could have been due to the look of concern she was giving them. And that wasn't counting the three others -- the enormously muscled barbarian, the dapper spy, and the clown. The clown gave Shondra pause but his glowing yellow eyes were soft, his brow was furrowed, and his mouth wasn't twisted into any unnatural expression. So far as clowns went, maybe this one was all right? "Let them handle it, mom," Gabby continued. "Whatever this is, they can fix it. Dirk and Rhekgar have fought off entire armies on their own; they can handle one armored weirdo." The barbarian nodded his craggy-featured head, but the spy spoke up. "Too right," he said. "Don't you worry a whit, darling; we'll have your son back to you right as rain." Shondra sighed, then nodded. "Okay," she said at last. "Okay, we'll go. Thank you." Gabby released her mother's shoulder and turned to face Warne. "My brother's a genius," she said. "Like, mom and I are pretty smart and my dad was a whiz with effects, but Jason's a certified egghead." Her eyes saddened. "When dad died, he kind of lost it. Started skipping meals, classes... showers. Spent all of his time tinkering in his apartment until we found out he wasn't paying his rent and had to move back here with mom. Then, when we learned they were working on remakes of some of dad's movies -- without practical effects -- he went off the deep end. Those movies are my dad's legacy, you know? They're what he's left behind and I guess Jason thought they were trying to replace his work, ignore his contribution to what made the movies good in the first place. I mean, it wasn't the acting. He started talking about... man, I don't know. Something metaphysical something ontology something pantheistic solipsism. It's beyond me, but the gist was that he wanted to make fictional things... not fictional anymore." She looks at Rhekgar, and shrugged. "It looks like he got it to work."
  5. [OOC] A Heavy Metal Christmas

    The car (which I hadn't considered before now) is parked in the driveway. Good thinking!
  6. Psichology [IC]

    Samuel wished, and not for the first time, that he had the ability to detect the presence of magic. As it was, he couldn't tell whether was Berns was doing was somehow mystical in origin, or the result of some natural or otherwise unnatural ability. The issue vexed him -- it was so subtle, so dangerously unnoticeable. Who would suspect that Berns, the slick, giggling little pervert, could have the power to turn men against themselves in an irrational rage? Then he heard the knob twist and turn, the door open, and he looked up apprehensively at the stairwell. "Damn," he muttered. And then, glancing at the fight that was about the break out, he swore again. "Damn!" He glanced this way and that, looking for an exit, feeling as powerless now as he had locked inside his prison cell with a power-dampening field buzzing incessantly around him like a hive of hornets in his head. He drew his wand and considered his next move. If he couldn't leave, and he couldn't hide, the writhing black clot of psychosis would find him. And if it found him, it wouldn't matter if he used his magic or not -- it would be a matter of life and death regardless. Strangely enough, the thought of it pleased him. He was getting tired of running. He was Samuel Steiner, Presto the Preposterous -- a former criminal mastermind! Well, maybe not a mastermind, but he'd plotted his way out of tougher circumstances than this more than once. That was, until a cocky speedster had laid him flat, clapped him in cuffs, and stripped him of his dignity. The magician bit his lip and looked around once more. "Has to be a way out," he hissed. Desire to fight aside, to prove his worth, he didn't want an errant spell to crash through Warne's subconscious and result in yet another neurosis. Or worse. He looked at the memory of Berns. "Okay sleazeball, if I were you where would I hide the exit?" He hugged the wall and moved around the room, searching for hidden doors, a hatch in the floor, the ceiling -- anything.
  7. [IC] A Heavy Metal Christmas

    Meryl nodded, then blinked the tears from her eyes and turned away. After clearing her throat, she called out to her daughter. "Lilly!" she said, and the girl's head whipped around, eyes wide. "Pack up your things, honey; we're going with mister Warne." The child bit her lip and shook her head. "Going where?" she asked. "What about daddy? What about Christmas?" =-=-=-= Ethan remained silent, but the AMP's speed gradually slowed to a stop so that he and his captive were hovering roughly one-thousand feet above the gently churning waters of the ocean. "Why me?" he asked, and tightened his grip so as to elicit an audible sound of pain from the injured Pangolin. "Why my family? Who sent you?" The Pangolin coughed, then hacked a wet laugh. "Because he hates you, mister Stone. Because he hates all of you, and he wants to see you suffer before you die." Stone pondered, then responded. "Why? What did we do to deserve this?" "You stole from him," explained the Pangolin. "Everything you are, you stole from him."
  8. [OOC] A Heavy Metal Christmas

    No, that's fine; it's a sensible course of action.
  9. Psichology [IC]

    Sam hated this. He possessed a grim foresight -- a forewarning of events about to unfold -- and that knowledge curdled his stomach. He had been a criminal, had interacted both in and out of prison with people who took the title villain with a sort of indulgent pride, but men like Berns were something else entirely. Not only sociopathic, they were gleefully cruel to their fellow man. Animals, wolves in men's clothing, they were a despicable breed. Steiner hated them, hated Berns, but not even the burning contempt that he felt could stymie his ongoing progress through Warne's subconscious. The mental defenses, man-like and monstrous alike, were on his tail. He had to move, so he cast his eyes about the room in search of way deeper into the mind of his host, and the exit that waited for him at the center.
  10. Active Threads for August 2017

    Game Master: Heavy Metal Christmas. (Please allocate points to Upgrade) Lights, Camera, Action! (Please allocate points to Punchline) Viva Val Verde! (Please allocate points to Presto the Preposterous) Presto the Preposterous: Psichology.
  11. [IC] A Heavy Metal Christmas

    Meryl Stone lowered the shotgun -- Buck -- and breathed a sigh of relief. Warne could tell by the smudging of her lipstick that she'd been chewing on her bottom lip for a while now; she was lucky she hadn't drawn blood. Peering past her, Warne could see that the basement had been largely undisturbed by the turmoil above. Lilly sat cross-legged in the corner, building a tower out of interconnecting plastic bricks that seemed impossibly tall. She looked up, saw Warne, and smiled. "I told you it'd be okay," she told her mother. "Where's my husband?" asked Meryl. "Where's Ethan? What happened out there?" Ethan tightened the AMP's grip on Pangolin, digging metal fingers into the cyborg's body. One of them pressed against a crack in the assassin's armor, digging it open and eliciting a thin and rattling screech. "Shut up," he ordered. "I don't want to hear another word out of you." In response, Pangolin laughed. It was a weak, wheezing chuckle marred by pain and lack of breath, but still it set Ethan's teeth on edge. "What is your plan?" asked the villain. "Do you really think to turn me in? Or will you throw me to the sea?" He paused a moment. "Perhaps you'll tear me in half?" Upgrade was silent, thinking. "If I were you," continued Pangolin, "I would not let me live. I am too dangerous to you, to your family. Killing me would take a weapon from the hands of your enemies." "I don't kill," countered Upgrade, and the Pangolin huffed another laugh. "You have been a fighter pilot," said the cyborg. "You've fired bullets, dropped bombs. I have been shown your files. I've seen the craters, the bodies." "That was war," Ethan protested, his voice restricted to mechanical flatness by the systems of the AMP. "Do you think this isn't?"
  12. Psichology [IC]

    This seemed wrong. True, Becker had warned him about Berns, but Presto wasn't impressed by the man now that he was meeting him in person. Or, rather, now that he was witnessing a memory so worn from repetition that it was frayed around the edges like a photo in a wallet. But, despite the relatively unimpressive appearance of the sleazeball, Presto kept his guard up. This was a deeper level of Adept's unconscious, which meant that whatever was about to happen was somehow more damaging to Warne's psyche than what had happened immediately above -- where a horde of bloodthirsty plant-zombies had committed indiscriminate slaughter. Moreover, Sam recognized that grin. He'd smiled similar "Who, me?" smiles before himself, usually only moments before triggering some trick or trap to confound his enemies and make good his miraculous escape. The magician sighed, gathered his wits, and pressed forward. "Inward and onward," he murmured.
  13. Viva Val Verde (IC)

    @Heritage Gallo's eyes widened slightly at Lynn's touch, then the lids drooped slightly and his smile softened. He looked, with appreciation, at Samuel. "She is something special, my friend." He shifted, reluctantly pulling away from Lynn, to clap his hands together in a practiced, casual way. It wasn't but a moment before a young woman, dressed in a smart little outfit, appeared from around the corner. Gretchen got the feeling she'd been waiting there, standing statue-still in case she was summoned forth. "/You called, mister President?//" she asked. Her voice was like honey, smooth and sweet. Gallo nodded, then motioned towards his female guests. "/These two want to relax a bit before we eat; show them to their rooms and then fetch the bourbon for Presto and I.//" He turned to Samuel and hooked his arm around the magician's shoulders. "Come, my friend!" he boomed. "Let your guests recover from their trip. You and I have years of catching up to do!" Samuel swallowed, laryngeal prominence bobbing, and nodded. "Sure thing," he said, and cast his eyes at Lynn. "We'll meet up later," he promised. "Work up an appetite; nobody throws a party like Gallo." The islander beamed. "Ah, this is true! The fun we used to have was legendary!" @Blarghy "/Papa says they left the island,//" answered the boy, fishing a cigarette from one pocket and holding it lightly between his teeth. He didn't light it, and appeared to have it only to look more grown up. "/He says they went to... ah..." He struggled to find the words, hidden within an old memory. "/The old Communist countries. In Europe. Old USSR places. It's where they'd be comfortable.//" His eyes hardened. "/Papa says we should have hanged them, but Gallo wanted a clean start -- no blood. So he put them all on a boat with the clothes on their backs and he sent them away.//" He smiled. "/Gallo's smarter than my papa. He was hard with them, but fair. They got better than they'd earned. They should have hanged, but Gallo found a better way. Now they're someone else's problem.//"
  14. Lights, Camera, Action! (IC)

    Shondra Brown's eyes well up with tears while her daughter's head shakes from side to side. "We haven't seen her," Gabby states, addressing agent Warne. "We didn't... I mean, we didn't even know this was possible. I knew Jason was working on something for a while, something big and secretive, but when he told me what he was planning I thought it was a joke." While her mother sobbed, Gabriela turned toward Miracle Girl. "I don't know where he is! This is all so crazy -- none of it makes any sense!" She points a long painted fingernail at Dirk Saber, who blinks and looks to one side. "You! You're crazy! You aren't real!" Saber scowled, sniffed with an air of aristocratic derision, then crossed his arms over his chest. "All evidence to the contrary," he rebuts. Shondra wipes her eyes and stifles a whimper. "I haven't seen my son since the beginning," she answers Miracle Girl. "Not since that lunatic in the armor threw us in here... and dragged Jason off somewhere else."
  15. Viva Val Verde (OOC)

    Both Lynn and Gretchen have seen Sam act like this before; it's how he gets when he's too busy planning a conversation inside his head to pay attention to what's going on around him. It gets worse, and more noticeable, when it's a conversation he feels he needs to have but doesn't want to.
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