Mad Scientist

It was, frankly, pretty freaking amazing. What had, at first, seemed like only a determination in herself to nut up and not be such a pansy about taking a plane home to visit with her mom and sister a couple of weeks ago, then turned into an ability to ignore her fear of heights when the situation demanded it. In the past week, she discovered it had gone even further than that; she wasn't afraid to fly anymore. At all. And the thought of deep water was only reflexively bad, out of habit, not due to any psychosis. It was amazing, incredible! And while she wasn't positive, she was pretty sure she could lay that all at the feet of-- Her in-flight introspection was interrupted by the appearance of The Amazing Falling Man, and she was caught so off-guard not only by his appearance and subsequent panicked descent that it took her a shameful couple of seconds before she caught up to him -- even at maximum velocity, which he hadn't reached yet, she could fly faster. And it was awesome. "Hang on!" she yelled as she drew along side him and matched pace. Not too long ago she would have had to watch helplessly as he plunged to his death, unable to support nearly enough weight to rescue an entire human being, but she'd learned a few tricks of late that changed the whole ball game. Calling up her Light, she shaped it into planes of coherent force, hard light like her shielding, but this in the shape of an enormous hand. Using her own hand in a concentration aid she reached out and grabbed at the scientist, and the giant, glowing blue hand did the same, enfolding about him in mid-air. Slowing her descent, it matched pace with her until the two of them, and her giant glowing 'hand', hovered motionless in mid-air. "...wow, dude, hardcore," she told him solemnly. "Watch that first step, huh?"

Despite the gravity of the situation -- or, in all honestly, perhaps in part because of it -- Cerulean found herself starting to get into the spirit of things. After all, they were in an alternate dimension, seeking audience with the leader of a machine society, to negotiate giving aid and succour to robots and organics alike. How awesome was that? "Take us to your leader!" she called out, a broad grin upon her face. An actual, legitimate opportunity to use that line? How often did something like that come along? Not nearly enough, in her opinion. She hovered along, perhaps eighteen inches off the ground to give adequate clearance to the carpet of green that Fleur was laying down, a short-lived blue contrail following in her wake. Her shields were up and tuned as tough as she could make them, and motes of light danced around her fingers as she made herself ready to start flinging around more power, should it prove necessary.

Muttering soft curses under his breath that even his exceptionally keen hearing couldn't pick up the monkey man's conversation over the noise of everything else below, Wildcat did a quick count of noses; video gamers, card players, sentries, and warehouse workers. If the odds against them were overwhelming, it didn't make any sense for just the two of them to crash in and let most of the apes get away. Trying to orient himself with the layout of the warehouse and the office where the phone call was taking place, he moved across the rooftop to try and find a spot where his mutant hearing could sift out the phone conversation. Maybe if he -- carefully -- scaled down the side of the building, so he was closer to the window that the office no doubt had....

The instinctive rejoinder of 'you're not my mother' died on his lips as Jill beat him to the punch, which didn't do a damn thing to make him feel any better. The fact that she was right about his state of mind didn't do anything more either. "...I'll keep that in mind," he agreed grudgingly, wondering if he needed to get himself a set of business cards made up, the way that these femme fighters kept handing them off to him. Not that he could imagine many situations where they'd feel the need to call on an only somewhat-housebroken punk-puncher. He looked over the front of the card. Espadas School of Self Defense and...Swordsmanship? Who the heck used swords these days, other of course than Jack of All... The masked young hero glanced up at Jill for a moment. ...nahhhh. That would be just way too sloppy on her part, were it true. The sharp-edge crowd likely just all kept tabs on one another, like some kind of elite fraternity, no doubt.

I don't see why we can't work with that. :)

If it's coming in Ashes, no worries; the intent there is to try an avoid combat, though, so I wasn't counting on it. Ari's proposed thread sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun; if you (or Phoenix) wanted to run something as well that's great, but don't feel obligated.

Ooooooh, actually I really like the sound of Sky Captain and the Steampunk Batallion, when you put it that way. There are currently-ongoing events that could lead to an increased willingness to take a commercial flight for a visit home, but the big concern there now is...how to get off an in-air jet with a pressurized cabin without killing anyone. Well -- that's what power stunts are for, when it comes down to it; I say we go with the Sky Lord scenario. It sounds the most up her alley.

The misfired Kappa Ray is exactly the sort of weird thing that often happens to her by chance, but it misses the mark on terrestrial notoriety. The grue bio weapon could work, as could the Lemurian construct -- I can see the potential for future conflicts between Shadow and the Light. The Sky Lord one doesn't work so well -- Boston isn't so far away that she wouldn't likely take a bus or a train rather than a flight -- she's not great with heights. Plus, we're into pretty much 'fish in a barrel' territory with an altercation on an airplane.

Awesome! No specific elements are needed, although Ceruelan is capable against both potent, individual foes and masses of swarm troops, with either full-out combat or non-lethal methods, so anything goes. High-profile would be good, though -- I'd like to have gotten in on that cruise thread, but as of yet she's just one of the many, many 'oh look, another Freedom City hero' masses.

Hokay, so I seem to be having a bit of an inverse problem than some people have been; every thread that Cerulean has been in so far has been a non-combat one. Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy social threads and Eileen is a social person, but as for a powers build she's slanted heavily towards combat-capabilities, and she hasn't had a chance to showcase any of them yet. So! Anyone willing to run a PL10ish thread that's guaranteed to have some smashy-smashy, pew-pew-pew in it?

Wildcat very nearly, quite disturbingly nearly, snarled and snapped at Jill as she 'interfered' with his 'prey', rendering the mad scientist unconscious. He prevented himself from doing so just in time, but the strength of the urge to defend his claim was almost overwhelming. "...don't call me 'Kitty'," he rasped, instead, pushing back from the now-docile man and rising to his feet. He wanted to offer to go run down the goons who had fled, but the intensity of that urge frightened him more than a little, and so he held his tongue. It seemed that while a good physical altercation was a way of letting off steam, whenever he delved too deeply into his unusual senses he started to get a little too in touch with his more feral side. He...was going to have to figure out how to deal with that, and soon, before he went further than he intended to. "Uh, thanks. For shutting him up," he added, his voice returning to something more like normal. "Ethnic slurs are bad enough, but this was sure something else."

Nice critical! ...aaaand have a hero point.

GM: The blue of the sigils still blocking off the memory slices pulsed and dimmed, pulsed and dimmed again, resisting the psychic probe. Resisted, but Zephyr could clearly feel the weakening. And then, under the weight of that tiny question backed by the formidable will of the Oracle, they crumbled, collapsed, and then exploded in a silent wash of brilliant blue, the light for just a moment filling the entire world. Vision returned in a moment or two, and the scene was something...incredible. Short green foliage and grey rock stretched out in every direction, the ground rolling gently in shallow waves. Before was an irregular cliff face, difficult from this position to see just how high it was, but a surging ocean could be seen at some distance out from the edge. It stretched out to either side until it disappeared from sight, as if this was some literal edge of the world, the point where the land was separated from the waters. Behind were rolling hills, although without anything to give a specific point of reference or scale they could be a mile off, or five, or fifty. There was the occasional small copse of trees or outcropping of rock, but no signs of civilization, or in fact any signs that this land had ever been touched by anyone at all. Except for the road. Off to the right, the road stretched along the ground like a dark ribbon, not like asphalt or concrete but some hue somewhere in between. It disappeared into the hills behind, and peeked out in flashes among the dips and rises as it travelled to the sea -- or, at least, toward the cliff. There was...something, near the cliff's edge, that looked to be where the road might lead, but from here it was difficult to tell what it might be, other than something standing up the surface of the ground. The sun was, indeed, high in the sky, but it seemed somehow to be a little...too large. And the sky itself was an odd shade of purplish-pink, not something that was ever found on Earth except for a few fleeting moments during some sunsets. And, to top things off, the sense of Eileen was...while not gone, per se, was decidedly more diffuse, and difficult to locate. She was there, but she wasn't right there.

Time seemed to slow a trifle as adrenaline kicked Wildcat's perceptions into a higher gear. Undoubtedly, their foes' plans wouldn't go off as intended if that bomb was detonated, but there was no guarantee that none of the toxin would make it into the water system regardless. Not to mention the damage to the water plant. Plus, y'know, he didn't really want to get blown up. Without a word he pounced, springing in a standing leap that cared not a whit for protecting himself from any counterattack. He slammed into the bomb-laden scientist and drove them both to the floor, pinning the man's wrists safely away from the detonator and using his own body weight to render him immobile. His eyes flashed amber in the artificial lighting, and a bubbling growl rose up low in his throat.

Saturday the 4th through the following week I'll be out at the campground, so my posting presence will be reduced. But likely not totally eliminated. :P

Definitely time to try and get Crazy Doctor McBigot under control! Charge, All-Out +2, Grapple: 1d20+12 28 Grapple Check: 1d20+20 36 Current Defense: +6

Given that it seemed there was at least half a dozen people inside, and from the look of things they had access to some pretty decent firepower, Wildcat was obscurely glad that he had backup with him tonight, no matter how unusual of a circumstance that was for him. While he'd rather have more information on what was going on below than less, he realized that getting what he did know back to the others was probably more important than getting discovered trying to skulk around further and leaving them ignorant to the situation. Backing away from the skylight, he padded back across the roof and dropped back down the side of the building to the ground. Loping back to where he had left the rest of their impromptu quartet, he quickly filled them in as to definite numbers, potential numbers, electronics, and guns. "Looks like they've got themselves quite a stash of valuables there," he concluded, flexing his shoulders briefly in an attempt to dispel some of the tension there. "Could be pretty dangerous, if they're using military-grade weapons instead of just selling them." If they didn't want to go in, fine -- he'd figure out where to go next all on his own. That was how he preferred it, right?

Still part of the gestalt, Eileen's amazement was clear for Zephyr to feel. "That was amazing!" she replied, not at all discouraged that the psychic's attempt had only been partially successful. A start was better than anything else she'd managed so far, and if there was a start, then that meant they could keep moving forward, right? "If you want ear-worm songs or randomness, they're out there," she went on, unable to resist commenting on the reference. "You ever seen the original Indiana Jones movie? I've got that warehouse full of crates -- pretty much anything is in there, if you poke through enough of them." Her tone was wry, but also pleased -- not many people had ever said about her that she had an orderly mind. Mind you, she rarely gave the impression that she did. There seemed to be a number of similarly 'weakened' images now, showing variations on the elements seen thus far. One also included what looked like part of an old country-style road, or perhaps a path -- it was difficult to tell. And-- "That...looks like something carved into one of those big standing-stones, doesn't it?" Eileen asked of her currently other half. More arcane symbols, maybe? It was difficult to see past the blue.

That was enough for Cerulean -- already in her powered form, she lit up her force field and lofted herself half a pace off the ground, the intense blue glow of her powers shedding a small pool of illumination about her. The pool abruptly widened as she cast her illumination wide, the cerulean light chasing away shadows and stripping away all concealment and illusions before her eyes alone. She held off on spinning out her illusory duplicates, but only because they hadn't actually seen any signs of hostility yet. "I thought we were hoping not to have to fight them, though?" the curvy young blonde protested, glancing down at the enthralled cyborg. "Wrecking things even more isn't going to make things any easier for anybody here, is it?" She looked about at the decaying world, and then back to Fleur and Dragonfly. "Uh, but along those lines -- if I give warning, make sure you're not looking right at me, okay?" she suggested with a weak smile, barely visible through the radiation suit's faceplate.

Cerulean spun around in place a few times as the magically-spawned parkland grew up about them, a look of enthused wonder clear upon her face even through the radiation suit. She watched trees clawing their way toward the sky, crouched to pluck a freshly ripened berry from a blueberry bush, and looked up at Fleur in admiration. "That's pretty amazing," she told the botanomancer a touch wistfully -- what Fleur could do compared to what she herself could do was like comparing a renaissance painter to her iPhone drawing app. Straightening again, she glanced a touch nervously toward the massively (and disturbingly) altered building, trying to spot if anything was heading their way yet. "Should I power up, do you think?" she asked, darting a look at Fleur before returning her gaze to the building. "I'm pretty sure this whole park won't go unnoticed, so I may as well light up, right?" She was feeling more than a little exposed, with nothing more than the radiation suit between her and whatever methods of violent death that might be employed by the machine armies.

Since the thread in question is Monopoly Misappropriations, we can consider it set.

No worries, Heri -- normally, I catch those sorts of things myself. Thanks for the heads up. Not too beefy, Endeavour; don't feel that everyone else has to make their first post something comparable, though. If you want to, feel free, but it's not necessary.

Yeah, yeah, you and your logic, Heri. Edit made.

An OOC thread for Monopoly Misappropriations.

The Boardwalk South Freedom City Friday, June 26, 2015 5:32pm The afternoon was hot and sunny; with the summer solstice just a week past, the days were long and the skies clear and even very nearly blue on this particular day. The height of the sun above the horizon made it feel like mid-afternoon instead of nearly evening, and the throngs of tourists and locals both enjoying the glitz and pageantry of the Boardwalk district were taking full advantage of it. Only blocks away the streets were starting to snarl with rush-hour traffic, filled with hot, tired commuters just getting off a long day's work and looking forward to getting home, but here the atmosphere was much more relaxed, and the temperature was even mitigated somewhat by the presence of the river to the north, flowing along blue-green and silent. There was much to do for all sorts on the Boardwalk, from drinking and gambling for those of legal age, to walks by the river, tourist-watching, or even a little illicit pick-pocketing for those unable to slip past casino security.