Mad Scientist

Eileen slowly came to, and her head felt fuzzy for far too long, considering the circumstances. She found herself in comfortable little cell, complete with sleeping and sanitary arrangements, water and apparently food service, computer, gun turret, and no way out. Given the layout and amenities, she abruptly felt like a hamster in a cage...and didn't much like it. "Oooof, knocked out by freaky bright lights? Awkward," she muttered to herself, more than a little put out by the fact that she'd been laid low under her own ballywick. Apparently whatever it was that restricted her from using her powers until 'activated' didn't even leave useful stuff like her ability to absorb excess light accessable Totally unfair. Well, she definitely wasn't going to just sit around and see what happened, of course, but she had to be careful before she tried anything. Taking her time, she went over small cell rather thoroughly, looking for any signs there was a camera concealed somewhere. Given that there was a gun in the ceiling, she imagined that there was likely a way of keeping an eye on the hostages as well....

Even though they were doing so because he could do something they couldn't -- because they needed him -- Wildcat's hackles rose at being put on the spot and at the focus of attention. Impressive, since he essentially lacked hackles in any real sense, but he didn't let that stop him. "...yes, I can do stealthy," he growled in reply after a moment. "Lights out won't even bother me either," he admitted, which would definitely be of use in a case like this. "Can't say as I'll be able to deal with all the guns before anyone goes to use one, though," the young feral pointed out. Especially since a number of the guns inside the building were being actively carried by criminal types. "Still, with the lights out, I'd have a huge advantage in there," he admitted. "And once they start trying to make a break for it--" and he didn't doubt they would, after the beatings started crooks pretty much always tried to quit the scene "--you guys will be able to pick them off as they come out, right?" It wasn't an airtight plan, but it was relatively simple, and had the benefit of leaving most of the important work in his hands, where he was most comfortable with it.

A little surprised with herself in doing so, Cerulean found her voice, "Besides," she added, raising her voice to carry clearly, "regardless of improper procedures and unannounced incursions, it was this robot's arrival that alerted us to your plight in the first place," she pointed out. "Without that, we would not be here, and there would be no aid, for organic or machine." She gave Vigil a very pointed look -- the cyborg had been to their reality as well, and he knew just how well things could, and should, have been going. Artoo's arrival had been more or less an accident, but it was quite possibly the best thing that had happened to any of the inhabitants of this reality in a number of decades. Still -- she wasn't going to leave it to chance. If anyone tried to take Artoo apart, she was ready to slap a shield over him to protect him...hopefully.

Zephyr confirmed that slowing her pace slowed the passage of her immediate surroundings, but didn't appear to make a difference in her overall progression toward the coast. She seemed to be on a schedule here, no matter how fast she 'ran'. Curious indeed was the little blue light, for as she approached she saw that there was a small figure in the middle of it, which resolved to be...a blue canary. But not just any blue canary, but a Loony-Toons, Tweety Bird-style canary, unusual proportions and all. Fluttering wings too tiny to keep it aloft and managing to fly despite this fact, the canary landed on a bright yellow Eileen-bloom which bobbed, but held, beneath its weight. "I tawt I taw an Oracle," it tweeted at her, blinking its huge, outsized eyes innocently at her.

Unfortunately, it only took a couple of shop's worth of perusal to come to the realization that pretty much everything that was to be had was, in its essence, designed to be an impulse souvenir and not any sort of actually useful purchase. There were countless designs of t-shirts revolving around Freedom City in general and the Atlantis casino in general, along with ash trays, oversized monogrammed pencils in hundreds of different names, and collectible figurines of all manner of cute little stylized sea creatures. Nothing that anyone actually needed, which was hardly a surprise, all things considered. And, given the quality apparent in much of the offerings, it seemed fairly clear that the machines and tables of the casino were far from the only place that the casino turned a profit. It was little wonder that they had a substantial security force on the premises, both overt and otherwise. ...actually, speaking of security forces, there seemed at several within sight of where the girls where, all moving rapidly in the same direction with grim expressions upon their faces. Not running, but certainly going somewhere with purpose.

Fort Save DC: 20: 1d20+8 19 Dazed! Missed it by one.

Agreed. Given that Nexus hasn't posted to anything in a couple of weeks, we'll just move on. If he shows up again later, then we'll see where we're at.

Eileen/Cerulean is also a Junior, Senior for the 2015-2016 year, and while she had a Sophmore roommate, the player went and vanished on us, so she's up for room reassignment once the summer is out.

On one hand, Cerulean was somewhat relieved that superhumans were a relative rarity here, and lower powered to boot -- that meant that she was unlikely to run into any one individual that could give her much of a problem. On the other hand... "Wait -- you're not talking about Amir al-Darsah, are you?" she demanded in not quite a squeak. "Goes by Typhoon, ruler of the Kingdom of Socotra, incredibly powerful hydrokinetic?" Surely he couldn't be -- with centuries of divergent timeline, surely the same man couldn't have come to exist here at this time, could he? Not by coincidence, anyhow. The news that the Scandinavian Emir was 'The Holy Roman Emperor' boded well for being able to communicate with them, although if she remembered her history correctly, that could just as easily mean they spoke German, French, or even Italian. Mind you, that was pretty much what English had been cobbled together out of, so there was still a decent prospect. As long as there wasn't going to be some sort of ridiculous inverse parallel of her world that would get her caught up in an extremist Christian terrorist movement that wanted to use her abilities to strike a blow against the Capitalist Islam....

Indeed it would...if it wasn't for that pesky, Normal Identity drawback she has...

So, since it isn't entirely clear -- people around Eileen have been stunned and levitated, but...she herself hasn't been affected, due to resisting or some other mysterious means? Or do I get to do a dramatic passing-out scene?

Eileen had sank back into her seat with a shaky sigh and a sweat-beaded brow as the rising levels of panic in the cabin subsided instead to tense but manageable worry. Just goes to show, if you talk fast enough you can sell people on just about anything. She desperately hoped that yes, there would be a posse of heroes coming to rescue everyone, but she also knew they were quite a distance in the air, and unless someone's radar picked up the suspiciously large airship and called in the cavalry, odds were that nobody groundside knew what was going on. Which meant that it -- gulp -- might just be up to her, once she got herself into a position where she could take action without risking everything. And, well, even that was risky in its own right, because there was no way she could keep the airship from crashing if she broke it too much, and she wasn't sure she could crowd everyone onto a hard light platform, even if she could get them all into one place. She would definitely have to play this one by ear, and decide whether or not it was worth the danger of trying to fight back. She needed more information. And so, when it came to her turn to be ushered off the plane, she smiled up at the guard in geeky enthusiasm. "Awesome outfits," she told him approvingly as she got to her feet again, ducking to avoid cracking her head on the overhead compartments. "It's way cool that you guys get to use steampunk in your work uniforms, amirite?" she added with a grin, seeing if she could elicit a response from the otherwise-silent goons. Left behind in her seat, tucked down in between the seat cushions as well as she could make it go, was all of her ID. If possible, she didn't want them to be able to tell exactly who she was, should she need to bust out of here later....

I'm not going to be able to top Eileen's Pop Culture/Eidetic Memory recall, so we'll just roll that one: Knowledge: Popular Culture (+4 Eidetic Memory): 1d20+14 26 Aaaand she's really going to have to invest some effort in learning to pay attention to her surroundings, scatterbrain that she is. Notice: 1d20 7

Cerulean was more than a little nervous at the situation, all things considered -- sure, she was supposed to be this fairly effective combat powerhouse, potentially, but that didn't mean that she had much in the way of, y'know, actual experience with fighting stuff. It was a good thing that an actual fight wasn't something they were looking for. Still -- she kept her attention focused on the swarms of drones hovering in the air about them like giant, mechanical mosquitoes. She'd be less likely to hit anything she shouldn't if she kept her field of fire aimed upward, and she could -- hopefully -- clear some large swaths of them at once if she had to. "Don't suppose there's any way we can take advantage of that, huh?" she asked in a low aside to Dragonfly as Artoo outed Talos' control of the warbot. "You guys are going to have to sell him on your services -- I just light things up," she reminded them in a voice that was, perhaps, just a little higher and tighter than usual.

Who is this dastardly Sky Lord, anyhow? Gather Information (Well Informed): 1d20+10 25 Taking 10 on Bluff for a total of 20, trying to Fascinate the plane's passengers to prevent panic.

Eileen gaped out the window as the impossibly ostentatious, anachronistic airship made its melodramatic appearance, and was ashamed to admit to herself that her immediate, gut reaction was 'Cool!' Considering what was happening, the whole situation was very not cool, but there was more than enough geek in her to admit that this Sky Lord certainly had balls to go with his sense of style. Her wrists had actually crossed before she stopped herself, and she separated her arms quickly before her transformation could begin. This...wasn't at all a good time to do so, despite the instincts screaming at her to do something! For one, she was in the middle of a fairly small space full of people, and transforming in plain sight wasn't a good way of keeping people from finding out her secret identity. For another, she was inside the airplane. The zeppelin was outside the airplane. She couldn't think of any way of getting from inside to outside while the plane was in flight without blowing a big hole in the side and likely killing everyone. For yet another, yikes! Outside was tens of thousands of feet in the air, and one of the last places she'd like to be, given an option. So, for now, it looked like Eileen was going to have to deal with panicked civilians, rather than Cerulean with thumping bad guys. Also yikes. Pushing herself up out of her seat, she hauled herself to the aisle so she could stand and be seen, if people were inclined to look at her. And she began to babble. "Everybody!" she shouted out, pitching her voice over the rising hubub. "Everything is going to be fine!" she called out brightly. "There's no need to panic, not because one oversized gasbag comes riding in on another oversized gasbag, spouting threats! We're over New York City, there's like, a bazillion heroes down there that are going to come and save us in no time!" Sucking in a quick breath, she began listing viable heroes who were associated with NYC in an attempt to keep people off-balance enough that they were paying attention to her, rather than the immediate situation. "There's Metro Champion, and the Antagonizer, not to mention the Star Family and their Cosmic Hound, and don't forget about Skipjack! Plus, we're not all that far, really, from Freedom City, so there's Dragonfly, and Harrier, and Miss Americana, and..."

Wildcat frowned. While he didn't so much prefer to go in 'guns blazing', as it were, he had to admit he did tend to prefer a more...direct...approach when it came to dealing with thugs, rather than a clever one. But when he heard someone else expressing a similar preference, it sounded so...basic. Was that what he was like, more stealthy approach or no? "Well, maybe," he temporized, glancing about again. "Problem with that, what if there are people in buildings nearby, that aren't involved in this at all? If we go in there and cause a panic, and they start shooting everywhere, someone innocent might catch a bullet," he pointed out. He himself didn't tend to deal with things that involved that much firepower...inasmuch as he had a 'tend to', given how short a time he'd been doing this so far...for just that reason. Trying to help out and making things worse didn't really appeal to him. "Anybody got any ideas that might keep them from accidentally shooting someone?" he asked hopefully. "I'll take my chances with myself if I have to, but...."

Camping stuff was, perhaps, a little too tall of an order for a swanky casino, but shiny, disposable-income-grabbing electronics weren't all that difficult to find if one was so inclined. As well as shops selling hats, t-shirts, jewellery, all sorts of ocean and beach-themed souvenirs in line with the casino's decorating scheme.... There were even, believe it or not, spray tan booths and water-massage capsules, for those who wanted to cover up the pasty pallor or massage out the stiff ache of spending way too much time inside at the tables or the machines. There was certainly enough to do -- there was even a showing of Thunder From Down Under starting in about forty minutes, according to a posted schedule. Who had time to pay attention to every little oddity in a place full of odd and exciting things?

GM: At first, things seemed to be going very well. Unlike the attempt to fly cross-country, fast-forwarding along the path resulted in a blur of movement, the stones of the path flashing by beneath her as she raced along, wind blowing her hair back from her face. Clearly, she was making rapid progress! ...unfortunately, upon checking progress based on distant landmarks, it seemed that she wasn't, in fact, actually making any extra progress. She was definitely getting further from the hills and closer to the coastline, and was covering a lot of terrain in the immediate area, but it was like.... Well, it was like the intervening terrain was expanding to compensate for her speed, like an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon -- she was making great time, but she wasn't making much progress. No taxi showed up either, unfortunately, but there was something small and blue flitting about in the flowers along the left side of the path, coming up fast now with the pace Zephyr was making....

The differences between the two worlds were fascinating, and Cerulean avidly compared bits and pieces of odd little historical curiosities that had been tucked away into her prodigious memory. The fact that humanity had united into one people here and headed to the stars was...inspiring, if perhaps a little bit of a letdown to learn that everything had come crashing back down in short order. "I don't get it," she protested as her smooth, tear-drop shaped force bubble sped along twenty feet above the waves. "I mean, sure, I can understand someone being greedy or narcissistic enough to want to tell a whole world how they should be doing things, but you said that your people have already gone to the stars, and met new people from new planets," she protested. "There have got to be other worlds out there that can be built up however someone wants; why is this al-Darsah insisting on fighting over this one? What's this 'Umma', anyhow?" she asked curiously, while firmly reminding herself that this wasn't her world, and wasn't her fight. She had to get back to her own world, before anyone got really worried that they hadn't heard from her. She was less worried about losing her part-time summer job for not showing up, but it'd still suck to have to try and find a new one, so that, too....

BUMPED BY HGM Wildcat: Minor edit only, +1 Regeneration (Staggered) Cerulean: PL jump! +4 points to array +1 Light Bolt Spray (Blast), +1 Affects Insubstantial +1 Sniper Beam (Blast), +1 Progression, +1 Affects Insubstantial +1 Kamehameha (Blast), +1 Affects Insubstantial +1/+1 Blinding Beam (Dazzle/Stun) +1 Nova (Dazzle) +1 Hard Light Projections (Force Constructs), -1 Progression +1 Hard Light Snare (Snare), +1 Affects Insubstantial +1 Force Field +1 Shield Altered Complication: Phobia replaced by Overconfidence +1 Attack Focus: Ranged Merged the following edit by HGM: Whoops! When I submitted the above formatted sheet, I forgot to modify the saves category with regards to Toughness -- should be +7 from the Force Field, for an overall of +9.

Awesome, it worked! Cerulean was very pleased, and not just because the lack of communication had been equal parts frustration and annoyance. "Not everyone is as powerful, but there are quite a few who are far more powerful," she told him; not at all a bad idea to plant the notion that trying to invade her world would be foolhardy. Plus, it was true. "Okay, first things first, you don't have to keep holding on to me," she went on, thankful that he had been, effectively, clinging to her force field up until this point. Not that he seemed a bad guy, really, but she didn't exactly feel comfortable with the idea of strange men clutching at her waist. "I'm not super-strong or anything; it's the field that's been carrying you, not me directly." She flashed him a quick smile. "Just relax, it'll hold you," she assured him. The fact that there might be someone who could get her home was a heartening thought, that lifted her spirits despite her fatigue. "Reykjavik -- that's...Iceland," she dredged up from her capacious memory. "Yeah, I could fly that far, it'd take..two, three hours," she went on slowly. "But, I don't have anything like navigational equipment," she pointed out. "We could end up missing the island altogether." Or flying around in circles, and wouldn't that be embarrassing. "So -- great war?" she repeated, wanting details. "That giant ship was the Revolutonists, and the little silver guys were...?" There was actually a war on? One that involved large parts of the globe? It had been two thirds of a century since such a thing had happened back home....

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be anything to see, no matter how intently Gretchen peered into the rather boring beige depths of the ceiling with bare-faced enthusiasm. The inner doors opened again, passing through a quartet of largely overweight casino guests, who went on talking animatedly amongst themselves as they passed the girls and exited into the hot, sunny day outside. Surely it was nothing, though. Casinos were large buildings, they probably made odd noises all the time. Standing around in the doorway wasn't getting any shopping done, after all, and if there was nothing wrong, well, there was no reason not to get to it, right?

GM: The suspicion that this might be some sort of dream or subconscious tap seemed to be gaining weight, as attempts to conjure images didn't have any effect; apparently, whatever was really going on here, it had stepped outside the bounds of telepathy as she knew it. Also, the flowers. It hadn't been immediately obvious, but by the time Zephyr passed the third bunch of cheerful yellow flowers on her way to meet up with the winding path, she noticed that they weren't...exactly...flowers. Oh, certainly, they grew on green, leafy stems out of the ground, and they had a nice spread of yellow petals, but the centre of the flowers were faces. Eileen's face, to be exact, smiling cheerfully but vacuously out of each bloom, like a bad Teletubbies concept. She was quite near the path now, and saw it was in fact a good-sized track, some fifteen feet wide and paved with brown interlocking stones that, at odd moments, seemed to have a bluish tinge to them. Looking down toward the coast she could see the road vanishing and reappearing as it dipped and rose through the folds of the landscape; it definitely seemed like it was leading to...whatever the outcropping or structure there might be. Looking back along the road, up into the hills, she could see what looked like...men. Well, the outlines of men, or something like men, clean white stones set large into the hillsides -- hill figures, like what could be found in the UK and other parts of the world. It was difficult to tell what they proportions were supposed to be; they could be hobbits, they might be giants. What they were supposed to mean? Well, that was anyone's guess.

There were numerous ways that Eileen wanted to reply to that oh-so-tempting opening, but she managed to restrain herself. "Eileen Labatt, student," she introduced herself in return. "Just making a trip to visit with my family during the summer break." She'd never thought of a statue being made of her before, and the idea just seemed...silly. Sure, she had some powers, but it wasn't like she was anyone important, right? If everyone who could do something unusual and had a costume got a statue made of them, the countryside would look like there was a plague of Medusae on the loose. The view outside her window caught her attention, and her nervousness about flying began to climb up out of the quiet background hum that it had been behaving itself with until now. Was that...some kind of storm cloud? Were they about to get into some rough weather? "Holy cheese," she muttered to herself, craning her neck to try and get a better view. When the sky went that kind of dark, she'd learned to expect hail, or something of the sort. How well did a plane fly through a hailstorm, anyhow?