Mad Scientist

I'm game.

Using Extra Effort to stunt off her composite Environmental Control/True Sight power. Environmental Control: Light (Partial) 2 (Extra: Linked; Flaws: Range (Touch)) [1PP] + Super-Senses 10 (True Sight (Vision Counters Concealment, Counters Illusion, Counters Obscure (all), Detect Hidden)) [10PP] + Comprehend 2 (Languages; Speak any language, Understand any language; Extra: Linked; Flaw: Duration (Sustained)) [2PP] [13PP] Fatigued from Extra Effort.

Cerulean clapped her hands, delighted -- yes, that was the portal. She nodded enthusiastically, but was stumped at how to ask him if he could make another one for her to return home through. She glanced back at the city, receding in the distance behind them, as far as she knew still a war zone. That was, if it was possible for her to get back there. She figured they were probably far enough out at the moment that they weren't going to be inadvertently run across, and slowed to a halt. At this point, the bright trail she left while flying was likely going to draw more attention than anything else. Settling the bottom of their bubble into the water, she focused for a moment and reshaped her light construct, forming a broad-beamed, open boat with a deep keel for stability, with a couple of simple bench seats for the two of them. They bobbed in the water with the motion of the ocean, but weren't quite so obvious as a moving target at the moment. She bent her brain to the communication problem, wondering if there was something she could do about it. Her light...made everything she saw clear, for her. Could she somehow make it so what she heard was clear, too? It was a crazy thought, but the lessons she'd had in expanding what her powers could do had worked wonders for developing uses of hard light, so maybe she could twist things here, too? Concentrating, she focused her attention on the light she was shedding across the waves, only moderately visible in the light of day and lack of much of anything to cast a shadow. She thought about what she wanted to accomplish, took hold of the part of her mind that she used to light up, and...pushed. The light wavered, then contracted sharply about her, condensing to a pool a mere twenty feet across as she drew power from it in a manner in which it was not intended. It felt...strange, in her head, but then again, so had the first time she had managed to solidify light into something other than a shield, so hopefully it was working. A wave of dizziness and fatigue washed across her, and she was glad she was sitting down. "Okay, let's try this," she told the man -- Siddig -- with a smile. "Can you understand me now?"

Well, this was familiar enough, wasn't it, from any number of movies or TV shows? Nice to be on more-or-less solid ground, when everything was so crazy. Pointing at him, she repeated what she had to assume was his name. "Siddig." Touching her own chest, she enunciated clearly. "Cerulean." An exchange of names, communication was happening. Huzzah. So...'Ird' was what they called the planet, did they? And 'Lor' was...what, 'what'? Where? You? She was going to need additional references on that one. Pointing at the planet, she told him, "Earth." And then, for good measure, she began glibly listing off all the continents as she indicated them, so he would hopefully realize that they shared common geography, if uncommon culture. She tried to determine, then abandoned, a way of asking several different important questions. Without a common language to use, pantomime was only going to take them so far. She looked over his holographic globe, and picked out the comparatively small island off the European coast. "England," she told him, pointing at the country. Tapping her lips, she added "English." It wasn't where she was from, but if her language was spoken here at all, surely that would be where, right? Did he know of anyone who might speak 'English'? Or...whatever it might be called, in his language.... This could take a long time, couldn't it....

Nasal ridges flared a shockingly bright coral as Hūhunu grinned. "I have generally found the most effective distraction is coming under fire from an unexpected direction, at an unexpected time, by an unexpected enemy," the little Marine observed, perhaps unsurprisingly. "I do not have any weapon systems meant simply to disorient, but I have had much practice at picking my moment to ruin carefully laid plans." Which was true, so far as it went -- but what it came down to was, the versatile energy carbine the Corps was issued had no such thing as flares, or flash-bangs. Or 'Black Sabbath', whatever that may be.

Cerulean had no idea who was doing what to whom, or why, but she did know that the giant green ship had hit her with some sort of painful energy weapon, and so she wasn't about to tear into the little silver guys just for the heck of it. Of course, she wasn't going to make the mistake of assuming they were her friends, just because they were attacking the goons that had tried to do her in, either. What she did know was two things, primarily; one, just sitting around here being a standing target likely wasn't a good idea. Two, even if she was inclined to jump in on this fight without more information, her offensive capability was currently tied up in shielding and transportation, so that was right out. Time to get out of here, find a place to catch a breather, and figure out where to go from there. Any, chance, sign? her fingers flashed at her companion-of-the-moment, but she doubted she would be so lucky. Spinning a finger in a wide circle over her head, she spread her hands and raised her eyebrows inquisitively. If he had a direction to suggest, she was more than willing to let him navigate. Otherwise, she was going to just have to make a guess and book it.

Notice: Audio DC:20: 1d20+10 24 (Seahawk) Notice: Audio DC:20: 1d20+10 17 (Shrike) No check for Pulsar as of yet, as it's not yet clear if he's being a creeper and following these two fashion disasters into the casino just yet. Don't worry about getting left behind if you can't easily contrive a way of doing so -- it'll be apparent at some point that something's up.

The nearest of the casinos was the tastefully decorated Atlantis; large statue of King Neptune with naiads frolicking about the base out front, the building itself decked out in shades of blues and greens common to the ocean. The pair of young women, apparent fashion disasters both, headed for the main entrance and the scattering of expensive shops that would be found within. Tourists thronged the sidewalk and the courtyard before the casino both, pointing, talking, and taking pictures of everything. Typical for tourists pretty much the world over, in most people's experience. The entrance to the Atlantis was two pair of double doors, an 'airlock' setup that allowed the casino to more easily retain heat in the winter and cool, comfortable AC in the summer. This also had the side effect of muting both the roiling mass of noise of the crowds outside and the machines, music, and other lively noises of the casino within. And thus it was, during the short period between one set of doors closing and the other opening, that Naomi heard what sounded like...a faint scraping, almost scrabbling sound, coming from the ceiling some eight feet above their heads. A glance upward showed nothing amiss, but she had heard something. ...hadn't she?

More importantly, she wasn't about to go anywhere with someone clinging to her back. She was driven halfway to the ground as he weight landed on her -- sure, she was a little taller than average for a girl, but she certainly wasn't up to carrying a full grown man around, whether it was on foot or in the air. "Ack!" she exclaimed, an utterance that probably needed no translation as her limbs buckled. This...wasn't going as well as it might have. How was she supposed to effect any sort of successful rescue when her innocent was nearly as much of a hindrance as the goons trying to kill them? Calling forth her Light, she formed a bubble of protective hard light about the pair of them and began prying at his hands clutching her waist. "Off. Off!" she yelled, hoping he could see where this was going. If he didn't let go and let the glowing shield take his weight, they weren't going anywhere....

Toughness Save DC 25: 1d20+8 19 Well, that ends up in the little guy being dead. So, HP reroll! HP Reroll: Toughness Save DC 25: 1d20+8 18 Better! No damage! Time to get rid of a second HP, for Interpose, and will rocket down to take little scientist dude's place.

Well, my most spaceworthy character is already in that final frontier -- is there any plausibility in Seahawk hooking up with a Praetorian on the way to/while on Eris? If so, I'm sure I can come up with a reason for Hūhunu to be around.

Hūhunu nodded -- the point was decided, then, or at least certainly enough so for the small marine's purposes. "Dreeda III it is, then." Agreement came easily, since taking orders had been drilled until it had become second nature. A strong hand at the helm was always preferable. "That transit will take us some time, even through irrelevant space," the de facto pilot informed their commander. "Should we, perhaps, use the transit time to develop some contingent strategies for dealing with any or all of the escapees as we may encounter them?" That had been, in the end, the greatest downside to working amongst the Praetorians; while each was a powerful, individual hero, they tended to act as individuals, rather than a cohesive unit. Bolstering each others' weaknesses or augmenting each others' strengths would make them even more formidable of an organization, if they could start to depend on doing so consistently....

Cerulean hesitated, torn between the almost inevitable likelihood that she was far outgunned here, and the knowledge that if she didn't do something, the guy she just rescued was probably going to get his brains splattered all over the ground in a couple of seconds. The spotlight spearing her from above seemed almost ludicrously unnecessary, considering the degree to which she was already lit up by her own power, but it did serve to emphasize just how outnumbered and alone she was here, not to mention way, way out of her depth by culture alone. Still...the only thing that had changed since before she had entered the portal was now she was a little more aware of the odds up against her. A known danger wasn't much more of a deterrent than a merely suspected one, when you came down to it, and if she fled she'd have nightmares about that poor man and what she'd dropped him into. Now, she hoped as she hauled herself to a halt to begin to reverse course yet again, the trick was to survive long enough to have nightmares about other things....

Initiative: 1d20+1 10

All right then -- Nexus, if you can make a post placing yourself in the Boardwalk area, we'll be good to move on.

All right, so as well as Cabochard just kind of vanishing, Raveled has retired Brigadine due to a lack of feel for the character, so now we're down to three. Do we want to continue on with this trio, or try to recruit one or two more again?

Wildcat: Banana Republic Freedom's Finest: Cat Scratch Fever Organized Crimes Cerulean: The Ashes of This World Kindness to Every Living Thing Sky Crime! Uffish Thoughts Hūhunu: Praetorians: The Deadly Dozen GM: Monopoly Misappropriations Uffish Thoughts

GM: Eileen's presence seems...oddly difficult to pin down, and for no reason Zephyr can determine, the sense link isn't showing anything. Not darkness or anything like that, just...no sensation. For the purposes of this effort, they've always been inside Eileen's mind, but somehow it now seems even...moreso. Like every aspect of the landscape is composed of Eileenstuff, and Zephyr gets the impression that's what the sense of Eileen she has is. Also, her classmate doesn't respond in the slightest to a Loony Toons quote, which for those who know her meant she wasn't aware the quote was made, or she had been dead for two days already. The stone...doesn't appear to be within the immediate vicinity, to make matters more frustrating. In fact, the entire 'countryside' seems to be similar, but not identical to the glimpses that had been caught before. Flying through the landscape doesn't seem to work like it should -- it's difficult to tell if this is actually a memory any more, or something...else. The fact that her next question did nothing but roll across the grass and rock and disappear into the distant(?) hills seems to confirm that concern. Whatever was going on here, it had gone off the rails from a theoretically simple question and answer session.

Eileen had been distracted for much of the short flight not only by her nervousness towards flying, but also in trying to analyze why it didn't seem so bad when she was sitting in a comfortable chair but the mechanism was entirely out of her control, versus being overtly exposed to the dizzying drop below but being responsible for holding herself aloft. She wasn't the sort of person that surrendered control easily when she didn't have to, and so it made little sense that she felt more comfortable with someone else flying her about. And yet, this was the most relaxing airplane she'd ever been on, and she wondered why her neuroses weren't currently giving her fits. The counter-distraction of her proposed seatmate pulled her out of her own thoughts, and with a glance back up the aisle her eyes widened and she gave an overdone shudder. "No, sir, I don't blame you," she told him whole-heartedly. "Of course, sit down," she urged him. If it would keep that baby from starting up fussing again, she'd give up her own seat for the rest of the flight....

Well. Snap decisions certainly did have their consequences, didn't they? So, of course, she immediately made another. Surrounded by enormous, alien buildings, with an enormous, alien spaceship overhead, a rescued civilian way, way out of his depth (or, y'know, height), and a portal back to her own 'normal' starting to close already? Avoiding the portal, she streaked at top speed toward the ground, the giant light-construct keeping pace beside her. She could cover about a mile in only a couple of seconds, accounting for the need to, y'know, stop at the end, and so they were at ground level in next to no time. Dissolving the construct that had caught the man, she let him drop the last couple of feet to the surface before reversing course with all speed. She would love the opportunity to look around and check out what there was to see -- was this the future, or an alternate reality, or another planet entirely? -- but she could end up stuck here if she wasn't careful. And from the look of things, she wouldn't be able to read Tumblr here. If they even had Tumblr. So she hauled all possible ass toward the closing portal, hoping to make it in time after delivering her rescue to safety. "...must go faster, must go faster," she muttered to herself, featureless blue eyes squinted against the oncoming rush of air. She was pretty sure she'd make it, though. This was the dramatic last-moment squeaking through that you always saw in the movies....

Passive awareness of anything that might be about to smite her: Notice: 1d20 14

Sorry! I've always viewed Mirror Images as a Concealment edges of the Illusion type, but I'll make sure to be specific from hereon out.

Well, Cabochard hasn't logged in for about two weeks now, so I'm going to assume he's not going to be a part of things until/unless he returns later. Nexus, as soon as you get an establishing post up, we can move forward.

So, that's activating Mirror Images (Concealment effect) as a free action for 50% concealment, and then a firing of Blinding Beam at 20' diameter down the hall. Dazzle (Visual): 6, and Stun: 6, for a Reflex Save DC 16 and a Fort Save DC 16. Initial Reflex Save DC 16 reduces the first two to a DC of 13.

Cerulean's nerves were singing with tension, but she was feeling surprisingly less hopeless than she would have anticipated, if someone had been describing this scenario to her rather than being in the midst of it. But being in control...somewhat...of events appeared to go a long way to preventing panic from rearing its inconvenient head. "Well, this was the outcome I was hoping for, at least, Darth Babbage," she shot back cheekily. "Pretty much no chance that any of the hostages are going to get caught up in the crossfire now, right?" She was clearly outnumbered and apparently outgunned -- time to see what she could do about that. The single, bright-blue heroine abruptly became seven or eight of the same, crowding her end of the hallway and facing off against the Steampunk Menagerie. With identical cocky grins, they all raised their hands in unison and unleashed a flood of incredibly brilliant light that filled the corridor from ceiling to floor, wall to wall, and enveloped the armoured goons and their antique leader. Hah! Take that!