Amelia

Octoman

 

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Astrid took off her headphones and pocketed her phone. A wicked smile was on her face. "That sounds like something a cannibal would say," she says faux-seriously. "Watch out, Heroditus! We got a man-eater over here. His tendrils may seem inviting but he'll gobble you up the moment you drop your guard."

 

Ben bent down and mimed pulling a mask out of his pocket and putting it on, though anyone standing nearby could see that he merely shapeshifted. When he stood back up, he was taller and bulkier, and appeared to be wearing a mask made from patches of human skin stitched together. He held his arms above his head and waved them in a comically exaggerated style as he ran toward Astrid at half-speed. "RAAARRR! Y'know, most people think it was just another trashy exploitation film, but it's actually a symbolic statement about the breakdown of post-World-War-Two American ideals about capitalism and the nuclear family model in the face of a more cynical post-Vietnam-War, post-Nixon reality."

 

Ben knelt down again, "removed his mask," and stood back up at his natural, diminished height and weight. "Yeah, kidding, exactly! I mean, not about the mutated radioactive poisonous animals running around free in the sewers. That part's legit. They still haven't found most of 'em. We're talkin' the little shy guys, y'know? Snakes, spiders, that kinda thing. Like, most animals that can beat you in a straight-up fistfight don't HAVE to evolve poison in the FIRST place. It's the scrawny NERDS who cook up venom so they'll stop getting stuffed into their own lockers. But the me-eating-people part, yeah, that's a goof."

 

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"Here," Astrid said, taking off her headphones and handing it and her smartphone to Heroditus. "Give it a listen, ja. Tell me what you think and don't be afraid to be harsh about it. I'm a big girl and can take a bit of criticism it."

 

Ben's shoulders slumped a little and he frowned. Damn. I miss new music. I mean, yeah, I got the app, but it's just not the same. Still better than nothing, I guess. He sprang back up and waved at Astrid. "Yo, hey, toss me a link or email me a copy or something. I got an app for that." He tapped on his own phone a few times, then held it up for her to see. It was muted, but playing a song, and vibrating with varying degrees of intensity along with the music. "Works best if it's heavy on the bass, 'cause, y'know, OBVIOUSLY."

 

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Up ahead, Ben had caught a glimpse of the figure out of the corner of his eye, but by the time he had fully turned his attention away from Astrid and Heroditus, the figure had disappeared.

 

Ben's eyes narrowed. He tapped Astrid and Heroditus on their shoulders. "Hey, anyone else see that?" He pointed at the building. "Some dude creepin' around. I'm gonna go take a sniff. B.R.B."

 

Dirge

 

Dirge's eyes widened for a moment at Bliss's taunts. But then he laughed, and elbowed B'ka's. "You SEE, Cousin? The squid-waif KNOWS, even if we are gentle, even WITH the bionic enhancements I can see as CLEARLY as the COLOR of MY OWN WOOL, that she is too FRAGILE to take part in our rutting without risk of SEVERE injury. But she has A WARRIOR'S PRIDE, so she HIDES her shame behind BRAVADO! A less SEASONED warrior, one lacking my CUNNING INSTINCTS, would be FOOLED by her ruse, mayhap even LURED into A DUEL! Instead, I merely REJOICE that A WARRIOR'S HONOR no longer COMPELS me to copulate with some HAIRLESS EGG-HATCHED FEATHERWEIGHT. And DESPITE her FEEBLE INSULTS, she earns another measure of my RESPECT, for it is what I would do in her stead."

 

"But the squid-waif asks good questions. ARE there HOSTAGES held captive inside this fortress? Is there BOOTY to be recovered? If NOT, then I could simply crash a few ships into it from orbit, or an asteroid if there are any nearby, and be DONE with it. I...may need help with the math. To make sure I don't use something large enough to trigger an extinction-level impact. Or, if you prefer SUBTLETY, then assuming there was sufficient metal involved in the construction of this fortress, I could simply tear it free from the mountain and throw IT into orbit. Either way, the problem is solved."

 

Camellia's got +10 in Craft (Artistic), so she can take 10 and prepare a DC20 meal, "moderately complex".

If Marcus looked up that wine she mentioned in their DMs, he'll find that this particular vintage runs around $400-$500 a bottle.

The "ethics" she mentioned refer to the fact that the ducks traditionally used for the dish she prepared are foie gras.

 

Persephone

 

Camellia was already up and about, putting the finishing touches on a few things, when she heard the knocking. She slid her apron up and off and onto its hook in the kitchen, turned out the light, and ran over to the door. She stopped short of opening it, closing her eyes for a couple seconds and taking some deep breaths. Then she opened the door, forcing herself to do it slowly. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: He cleans up real nice. She looked Marcus up and down, and when her eyes rose to meet his, she stopped suppressing the ear-to-ear smile that had been trying to take over her face all evening.

 

The interior of the house was lit by a fireplace and an assortment of candles. The illumination, while dim, was enough for Marcus to make out planters sitting or hanging in at least a dozen places, each one of them overflowing with an assortment of flowers. The woman standing before Marcus was somehow simultaneously a colleague he'd met dozens of times, and also a total stranger. A simple change of clothing and pigmentation shouldn't have made her look so different, but it did. The facial features, the voice, the way she stood and moved, it was all the same. Camellia's skin was a pale pink instead of a rich green, and the violet hues decorating Persephone's face had been replaced with lips and eyelids painted a bright, bold red and a subtle, understated gold, respectively. The eyes looking out from under those bronzed lids were ice-blue instead of violet, but they were no less striking. Camellia's hair was platinum blonde instead of royal purple, and it only fell as far as her buttocks instead of her ankles, but it was the same wavy style. There was even a flower in the same place on one side, though this one was red silk rose attached to a hair clip, rather than a sunflower growing out of her scalp. The flower matched her clothes, a clingy crimson long-sleeved sweater-dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline that went down to just above her knees, where it gave way to sheer black stockings and knee-high zip-up black leather boots with four-and-a-half inch block heels that left her a mere half-inch shorter than Marcus. She'd traded out the usual pearl earrings for a pair of large gold hoops.

 

"Hey there, Cowboy!" She hugged him, again restraining herself from doing it quite as quickly or as tightly as she would have preferred. "Glad you could make it. You're just in time." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek as she pulled away and slid to the side to make room for his entrance. "Come on in before you let all the bought air out. I hope you didn't have trouble finding the place. I know the houses around here all look alike." She glanced at the bouquet in his hand and her eyes lit up a little more. "Well my goodness, don't you look as fine as peach fuzz. Nice color choice, we match! Are those for me? Aw, thank you!" High marks for reading comprehension. "I'll grab a vase. Those will be the perfect centerpiece." She turned to the side, waving a hand to gesture behind where she'd been standing, toward the space where the living room they were standing in transitioned into a dining room with little between them to distinguish where one ended and the other began. "Make yourself at home! Coat rack's right behind you if anything needs hanging, restroom's on the left if you need to freshen up."

 

On her way back to the kitchen, Camellia grabbed a remote control and pressed a button. Soft music began to fill the house, strings and woodwind at first, then a woman singing in French. She returned to the table with a crystal vase in-hand. She took the flowers from Marcus, closed her eyes, and smiled wide again as she inhaled deeply. The flowers moved of their own volition, their stems bending and curling toward her face, the petals opening slightly wider. When she gingerly slid them down into the water, they returned to their original configuration. The slices of seared, fatty duck breast fanned out across the two plates looked more like medium-rare roast beef at first glance. Each one was surrounded by sliced mushrooms and some sort of leafy green vegetable, and it was all topped off with some kind of sauce which smelled of garlic and at least half a dozen other spices.

 

"Hope you got plenty of room in the ol' bread basket." She playfully pinched his massive bicep as she took a seat perpendicular to his own at the dinner table. "Can't imagine you get muscles like that without working up an appetite. It's not the most ethically sourced dish in the world, I know. I certainly never would have bought it on my own. But it was a gift, and it seemed like a waste to just throw it out." She popped the cork on a bottle of red wine and poured each of them a glass. "Also a gift, another thing I'd never go out and buy for myself, but hey, we're celebrating." Then she unscrewed the top from a glass dropper vial and pinched a whole capful of blue fluid into her own wine. "One of the mixed blessings of my transformation. I can shrug off most toxins, but unfortunately, that includes alcohol. Caffeine, too. I figured out which chemical fertilizers can mimic the effects, so I can spike my own drinks and hold on to a few more of the old rituals, stay that much more grounded in normalcy. Most people like us underestimate how important that is, and how much those little things can help. But that also means nobody else can drink from my glass. I wouldn't want this night to end in the emergency room." She clinked her glass against his.

 

Persephone

 

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"Stop!" Cheval reached out to Persephone, gently taking hold around her arms. "Whatever this thing is, it cannot leave this place, else it would have done so. What if you set it free by destroying it?" He turned her around, to look at her as he continued. "Whatever is in our past, it is the past. Do not let this thing twist that into something it wasn't."

 

The green woman didn't resist the metal man's grasp. In fact, he could feel her relax into it. Persephone silently looked up into Cheval's eyes for a few moments, then turned down and to the side, resting her cheek against his chest as she hugged him tightly. The giant vines ceased their thrashing, though the basement wall which once held the pentagram and the mocking face had already been smashed to rubble.

 

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"It doesn't mean you." Woodsman landed among the group downstairs.

 

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"You!" Its voice was all laughter now, coming from the very walls. "You know what they'd do if they knew, don't you? Freak-boy-monster, last son of a dead world!"

 

Persephone looked up from her embrace with Cheval, but she didn't break it yet. "I guess it was silly to hope that slapping the mouth off its face would shut it up, but you know me, ever the optimist. You look like you're feeling better. Glad to see it."

 

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"My apologies for the delay. I was perhaps overly cautious in securing the perimeter."

 

Persephone eased out of Cheval's arms and slowly turned toward the two new arrivals. She smiled weakly at Torque. "There you are, Sweetie. I was starting to worry that something in the house got you."

 

Then she turned to The Woodsman and the smile fell off her face. "So who IS he talking about? WHAT is he talking about? This Thing can see inside of us, and he's showing us the worst parts of ourselves, the things we're ashamed of. He's lifting up the rocks in our souls and forcing us to look at the secrets squirming around beneath. The only defense against that is to get out in front of it. Benjamin Franklin was a notorious philanderer, but a scandal-proof one, because he had all his affairs out in the open. I can't approve of the man's conduct, but I can appreciate the tactical value. He can't use our secrets to tear us apart if we don't have any, and he can't shame us if we own up to what we've done."

 

She moved a few steps away from everyone and held her arms in front of her, wrapping them around herself as she looked off into the darkness. "Cheval's been under the microscope from Day One. I doubt he's got any skeletons in his closet we can't read about on the gossip sites. Me, I've got a little tabloid fodder, but not much. My biggest scandal is just being 'Persephone' in the first place. I killed some vampires my first night out. It was self-defense, and I didn't know what I was doing 'till it was done, but I'd do it again. I once spent a Saturday morning at Planned Parenthood. I knew EXACTLY what I was doing then, and I'd do THAT again, too. But you can't kill what's already dead or what wasn't alive in the first place. I know that sounds like I'm splittin' a hair four ways, but it's the God's-honest truth. I'm no killer. I'm a liar, obviously, but only when the truth would do more harm than good. I never saw the point of truth for its own sake, not when all it would do is hurt people's feelings or put them in danger. But I'm not a killer, or a thief, or a cheat. I've always played fair. I never threw the first punch in a fight, or stole something that wasn't mine, at least as far as the law was concerned. I've never cheated on a man I committed myself to, or knowingly helped a man do likewise, and whenever I found out I WAS the other woman, I ended things then and there." She turned back to Cheval and Torque. "My sins are collective, not personal. If my family didn't own this plantation back in the day, then they owned one just like it. All the misery and blood and death that happened here in those days, everything that kept this Thing as fat and happy as a woodpecker in a lumberyard, well if that didn't happen on our watch then it may as well have. The whole time I was growing up, every dollar that put food on my plate and clothes on my back was soaked in blood, blood my ancestors squeezed out of yours, and I haven't come near to making up for any of it."

 

She turned back to The Woodsman. "So what about you? It's obvious he's trying to drive a wedge between us 'cause he feeds on the drama. We're like a Real Housewives marathon and the party platter sitting in front of it, all rolled up into one. But why does he think YOU'RE the weak link in the chain? It wouldn't surprise anyone to learn that you've hunted game or killed in self-defense. Today alone you 'killed' a lot of things that were already dead. But I don't believe for a second that you ever 'murdered' anyone. So how is he twisting YOUR truth around?"

 

GM: 5 IC posts = 10 IC posts

Deep Runs The Dreadnaut (5)

10 to Persephone

 

Dirge: 18 IC posts = 2PP

All Aboard The Nightmare Ship (13)

For A Fistful of Tepeyoite (2)

Toccata and Fugue (3)

 

Mister Strix: 4 IC posts = 1PP

Century For A Dame (4)

Note: The spent/unspent total at the top of his sheet is incorrect. The total at the bottom is correct. He should show 216/216 spent before this month's awards.

 

Octoman: 19 IC posts = 2PP

The Eagle Flies Alone (7)

Hydra Yas Queen (3)

The Pinball Wizard Strikes! (2)

Puppy Love (2)

Reptile Brain (5)

 

Persephone: 15 IC posts + 10 GM posts = 25 IC posts = 3PP, +1 Guide = 4PP

Deep Runs The Dreadnaut (4)

Even The Mere Reports of Such (1)

Thy Golden Stair (4)

Transylvanian Mix Tape (6)

 

Persephone

 

Camellia's second phone, the one she kept solely for official City Defender business, blared to life, waking her from a deep sleep a couple of hours before her alarm clock was set to go off. Thursday morning was one of the worst times for something like this to happen. She had a full load of talk-therapy sessions on Thursdays. It was the most popular day of the week for that. Patients liked to lighten the emotional load right before the weekend. None of them would be happy if she had to cancel on them at the last minute. (They'd be even less happy if she charged any of them the actual going rate for her services, but that wasn't something she wanted to hold over anyone's head.)

 

The wheels started turning in her head as she listened to the dispatcher's description of events. I suppose this COULD be super-science gone wrong, some sort of distortion of local temporal physics...but no, this has "supernatural" written all over it. Which means it's time to call in an expert.

 

"Alright, this could be an extra-normal hazard, so let's not take any chances. Lock down the morgue and evacuate the medical examiners immediately, and get a S.W.A.T. team down there. Everybody just sit tight, nobody go back inside until I get there. I'll haul tail over, and I'll be bringing a civilian consultant with me."

 

On her other phone, her personal phone, she dialed up the number she'd first gotten from a business card on Croczilla Night. "Hey there, Betsy, it's Persephone. Sorry I haven't been in touch lately. We should make time to grab a cup of tea soon when we're not fighting monsters. Did you get that wine and cheese basket I sent to your office around Christmas time? Listen Sweetie, I'm so sorry about the early call, but there's a ruckus down at the morgue and I hear tell it's right inside your wheelhouse. Somebody's dead, but not the right kind of dead. Can I swing by and pick you up?"

 

Followed.

 

A lightweight post is better than no post.

 

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gravity based/mass manipulation stuff in blaster form

in additional to the physician-scientist stuff

like doctor first

scientist second

shooty blaster boom boom lady third

Oh, she's an alien. Same species as Paradigm

Paradigm got her stuff under controlled circumstances

Ringdown got hers when the facility was bombed

And there was a runaway reaction

 

@Nick Something like this?

 

 

Power Level: 12 (Built as PL10)

Power Points: 180

 

 

ABILITIES 36PP

Strength: 10 (+0)

Dexterity: 10 (+0)

Constitution: 22 (+6)

Intelligence: 20 (+5)

Wisdom: 20 (+5)

Charisma: 14 (+2)

 

 

COMBAT 16PP

Initiative: +0

Attack: +4, +10 Gravity Control

Grapple: +4, +20 Gravity Control

Defense: +10/+4, +5/+2 Flat-Footed

Knockback Resistance: 10/3

 

 

SAVING THROWS 13PP

Toughness: +10/+6 (+6 Con, +4 Force Field [Impervious 10])
Fortitude: +10 (+6 Con, +4PP)

Reflex: +10/+4 (+0 Dex, +4PP)

Will: +10 (+5 Wis, +5PP)

 

 

SKILLS 72R = 18PP

Concentration 5 (+10)

Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 5 (+10)

Knowledge (Life Sciences) 15 (+20)

Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 15 (+20)

Languages 2 (Delaztri [Native], Galstandard, Lor)

Medicine 15 (+20)

Notice 5 (+10)

Search 5 (+10)

Sense Motive 5 (+10)

 

 

FEATS 5PP

Interpose

Luck 3

Second Chance (Medicine)

ENHANCED:

Environmental Adaptation 3 (High-Gravity, Low-Gravity, Zero-Gravity)

 

 

POWERS 92PP

 

Enhanced Defense 6 [12PP]

 

Enhanced Feats 3 (Environmental Adaptation 3 [High-Gravity, Low-Gravity, Zero-Gravity]) [3PP]

 

Enhanced Reflex 6 [6PP]

 

Flight 1 (10MPH, 100ft per Move Action; Feats: Subtle) [3PP]

 

Force Field 4 (Extras: Impervious [10 ranks]; Feats: Subtle) [15PP]

 

Gravity Control 18 (36PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power 2) [38PP]

 

Base Power: [32PP]

Move Object 10 (Range: 1,000ft; Lifting Strength: 50, Heavy Load: 12; Extras: Area [Type: General; Shape: Burst], Selective; Flaws: Limited [Up and Down]; Feats: Indirect, Subtle) [32PP]

 

Alternate Power: [35PP] (Additional Descriptors: Focused Gravity Control)

Move Object 10 (Range: 10 100ft Increments, 1,000ft Max; Lifting Strength: 50, Heavy Load: 12 tons; Extras: Damaging; Feats: Accurate 3, Indirect, Subtle) [35PP]

 

Alternate Power: [36PP] (Additional Descriptors: Gravity Well, Singularity)

Snare 10 (Range: 10 100ft Increments, 1,000ft Max; Toughness: 10; Extras: Contagious, Transparent; Flaws: Action [Full]; Feats: Accurate 3, Indirect, Reversible, Subtle) [36PP]

 

Gravity Manipulation 5 (10PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power 2) [12PP]

 

Base Power: [10PP]

Flight 5 (6, 500MPH, 1 mile per Move Action) [10PP]

 

Alternate Power: [10PP]

Environment Control 3 (High Gravity; Range: 300ft; Area: 25ft radius; Extras: Selective; Feats: Subtle) [10PP]

 

Alternate Power: [10PP]

Environment Control 3 (Low Gravity; Range: 300ft; Area: 25ft radius; Extras: Selective; Feats: Subtle) [10PP]

 

Immunity 6 (Aging; Gravity effects; Flaws: Limited [1/2 Effect]) [3PP]

 

Also, I'm fine with there being at least one verbal back-and-forth between Miss Grue and the guards before Octoman unleashes the tentacles, and as soon as he does that, his Passive Concealment effect will end.

 

Since there's some amorphous shapeshifty types here, please let me know who does and doesn't have readable lips, so I know whose dialogue to ignore.

 

Octoman will move to wherever he needs to move to line up the 100ft or 250ft cone (the Progression power feat for his area size is optional), preferably up on the ceiling or at least above everyone else, and then he will unleash his tentacles in an attempt to grab and choke everyone in the temple who is not obviously an Atlantean prisoner.

 

Targeted Selective Area Engulf Snare effect.

Attack roll: 25. Add +1 against anyone against whom he has the higher "ground," and/or +2 against anyone for whom it counts as a surprise attack.

If that hits, then it's a DC20 Reflex save to avoid the Snare.

If they fail, then, in addition to the usual effects, he's applying his Chokehold power feat to, among other things, prevent them from speaking.

 

The vampires of Vibora Bay already have Persephone at the top of their hit-list, so if you want her involved, there's a ready-made reason.

She's also getting a lot more action than most other VBPCs, though, so feel free to hand the spotlight to someone else if you get interest from other corners.

 

Octoman can take 10 with Skill Mastery and hit DC25 on Notice, except for Listen checks which he fails automatically.

 

Dirge

 

The furry blue giant used his meaty three-fingered hands to shovel several heaping plates of salad into his snout while half-listening to The Traveller's proposal and the ongoing banter at the table. At several points during his meal, after swallowing a few bites, he would loudly regurgitate a wet, sticky clump of chewed-up vegetable matter back onto his plate, only to scoop it back into his mouth and gulp it down again, followed closely by a mug of ale drained in a single breath.

 

"I came to this planet in search of GLORY, in victory OR death! These PETTY MISCREANTS fancy themselves CONQUERORS, but they are merely GRIST FOR THE MILL! And when they are GROUND, it is not my people's MOUTHS they will feed, but our LEGEND!"

 

After answering The Traveller's offer to the table, Dirge made one of his own.

 

"Would any of you care to engage in the traditional rutting and grooming this night? I do not wish to give false hope to those of you capable of bearing children. The DNA of lesser races has always proven too weak to mix with the PURE UNFETTERED MIGHT of the Fryxus. Not that it should be of any concern, since copulation between comrades is for bonding and release. Reproduction is for one's mate. But I have found this a distinction many less-enlightened peoples have trouble understanding. Still, if any of you desire release upon the eve of battle, my flesh is available."

 

Stealth check: 26.

Dirge

 

 

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“Drinks for our brave protectors, on the house of cause!” looking at Sitara they added “And a meal after such long journeys.”

 

With a smile Sitara picked up the jewels and offered them back to Kanemu.

 

 

"So be it." Dirge scooped his meager funds back into his pouch, then turned back to the bartender. "And two mineral lick bars." The Fryxian handed one of the foil-wrapped rectangles-on-sticks to B'ka, then peeled the foil from his own, revealing several layers of salt and other crystals and metals which had been crushed into grains and then compressed together, a savory treat and vital source of nutrients for an herbivore. He licked at his between gulps of beer.

 

Dirge

 

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Walking up to him, the sturdy Squire offered a hand, his armor retracting to expose callused, scarred fingers and a powerful arm covered in the same coarse hair as his square, honest face. "Squire B'ka, from the Hapis herds, well met Kanemu! She's my partner, Squire Kath'lana. We're also chasing these pirates, and these" the bull ponted eagerly to the two Lor, "are with the Prophets and the Star Navy! I'd count it an honour t'fight beside you."

 

Kanemu met B'ka's handshake with one of his own. "Well-met, Cousin B'ka."

 

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"Greetings Kanemu. I was unaware there were any Fryxus left in the galaxy. I am pleased to see that is not the case."

 

"If the records kept by the Star-Khan's LACKEYS are accurate, I am indeed the last. I am...their DIRGE. THEIR story is now MY story, and IN my story THEY SHALL ECHO ACROSS ETERNITY long after the carrion-birds have picked my bones clean!"

 

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"Let’s hit the Cantina and I’ll lay out what I know about these raiders.”

 

At the Cantina, Kanemu checked his pouch, did some arithmetic, and made a decision. I could obtain food, drink, lodging for myself...but my funds are better spent on the group. He who eats like a cougar also lives like one, away from the herd.

 

"BARTENDER!" The last Fryxian slammed a meaty three-fingered fist upon the bar. "A round of drink for your saviors!" His fist opened to reveal the meager pile of tiny gemstones and ingots that were his life's savings. Lowering his voice almost to a whisper, he added "Your CHEAPEST drink." Claiming his own mug of swill, he turned back to the assembled warriors and raised it above his head. "A TOAST!"

 

He addressed Jolan first. "It is no surprise that a Lor would fall prey to terminal radiation sickness. Even by the standards of the lesser races, your kind are known to be ill-suited to the rigors of space travel. What IS surprising is that, while already hovering at Death's door, you would choose not the comfort of soft cushions in a hospital bed, but to PROVE YOURSELF WORTHY, spending your final days seeking battle against hopeless odds! Your FLESH may be weak, but you have the SPIRIT of a TRUE WARRIOR!" He turned to Fa'Rua and Sitara. "As do you. Instead of abandoning your brethren to die alone, you JOIN him in CERTAIN DOOM! All three of you are a credit to your people." The blue ram then directed his sincere if backhanded compliments toward Kath'lana and Bliss. "HONOR...COURAGE...SACRIFICE...HERD. These are things most FLESH-EATERS do NOT understand, sleeping alone and striking without warning from the shadows and the treetops. But YOU..." He addressed Bliss. "YOU have CLEARLY seen battle, and you embraced AUGMENTATION, TRANSCENDING grievous injury and innate frailty alike!" He turned to Kath'lana. "And YOU are no mere FELINE, but A KNIGHT OF THE CITADEL! You HAVE a herd. YOU understand. No doubt thanks to a PROPER BOVINE taking you under his hooves." He turned to B'ka and slapped him on the shoulder with his free hand. "One who has SACRIFICED a great deal! None would begrudge a blooded veteran such as you some sort of prosthetic, whether it be for tactical value like the squid-waif here, or simple vanity! But YOU bear your scars OPENLY, PROUDLY, as if to WARN your foes, you need NOT your horns, for you are DEADLY STILL without them! It is A GLORIOUS BOAST!"

 

He snorted and released a sigh, satisfied at having so quickly and shrewdly taken the measure of his new comrades. "It will be MY HONOR to die alongside all of you."

 

Maxed-out build:

 

 

Character: Dirge

Power Level: 15 (Built as PL12)

Tradeoffs: -5 Attack / +5 Damage, -5 Defense / +5 Toughness

Power Points: 248/250PP

Unspent Points: 2

 

 

ABILITIES 12 + 6 + 14 + 0 + 4 + 8 = 44PP

Strength: 26 (+8) (Heavy Load: 920 lbs.)

Dexterity: 16 (+3)

Constitution: 26 (+8)

Intelligence: 10 (+0)

Wisdom: 14 (+2)

Charisma: 18 (+4)

 

 

COMBAT 14 + 14 = 28PP

Initiative: +7 (+3 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative)

Attack: +7

Grapple: +15 (+7 Melee Attack, +8 Str)

Defense: +7, +4 Flat-Footed

Knockback Resistance: 14/4

 

 

SAVING THROWS 4 + 4 + 10 = 18PP

Toughness: +17/+8 (+8 Con, +9 Force Field [Impervious 12])

Fortitude: +12 (+8 Con, +4PP)

Reflex: +7 (+3 Dex, +4PP)

Will: +12 (+2 Wis, +10PP)

 

 

SKILLS 96R = 24PP

Acrobatics 7 (+10)

Climb 4 (+10)

Concentration 10 (+12)

Intimidation 17 (+21)

Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 5 (+5)

Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 5 (+5)

Knowledge (Technology) 5 (+5)

Languages 3 (Galstandard, Fryxian [Native], Lor, Zultasian)

Notice 10 (+12)

Perform (Oratory) 11 (+15)

Pilot 2 (+5)

Search 10 (+10)

Survival 3 (+5)

Swim 4 (+10)

 

 

FEATS 7PP

Fearless

Improved Initiative

Interpose

Luck 4

 

 

POWERS 127PP

Device 3 (15PP Container [Passive, Permanent]; Flaws: Hard-To-Lose) [12PP] (Descriptors: Environmental Force Field Projector, Technology)

 

Environment Control 1 (Light [Level 1]; Area: 5ft radius; Extras: Action [Move], Duration [Continuous], Linked [Features, Immunity]; Flaws: Range [Touch]) [2PP] (Descriptors: Environmental Force Field, Technology)

Features 4 (Environmental Adaptation 4 [High-Gravity, Low-Gravity, Underwater, Zero-Gravity]; Extras: Linked [Environment Control, Immunity]) [4PP]

Immunity 9 (Life Support; Extras: Duration [Continuous], Linked [Environment Control, Features]; Flaws: Action [Move]) [9PP]

 

Electromagnetic Control 25 (50PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power 4) [54PP] (Descriptors: Alien, Electromagnetism)

 

Base Power: [50PP] (Additional Descriptors: Magnetokinesis)

Move Object 18 (Lifting Strength: 90, Heavy Load: 3,200 tons; Extras: Damaging [12 ranks], Range [Perception]; Flaws: Limited [Metal]; Feats: Precise, Subtle) [50PP]

 

Alternate Power: [50PP] (Additional Descriptors: Magnetokinesis, "Maximum Effort")

Move Object 84 (Lifting Strength: 420, Heavy Load: 1.3824 billion tons; Extras: Damaging [12 ranks], Range [Perception]; Flaws: Action [Full], Distracting, Limited [Metal]; Feats: Precise, Subtle) [50PP]

 

Alternate Power: [47PP] (Additional Descriptors: Lightning Bolts, or Metal Projectiles and "Human Railgun")

Blast 17 (Feats: Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Improved Range 4 [1 4,250ft Range Increment], Indirect 3, Precise, Progression [Max Range] 1 [4,250ft], Subtle, Variable Descriptor [Energy and Electrical, or Physical and either Bludgeoning, Piercing, or Slashing]) [47PP]

 

Alternate Power: [47PP] (Additional Descriptors: Magnetically-Reinforced Metal Bonds)

Snare 17 (Feats: Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Improved Range 4 [1 4,250ft Range Increment], Indirect 3, Precise, Progression [Max Range] 1 [4,250ft], Reversible, Subtle) [47PP]

 

Alternate Power: [50PP] (Additional Descriptors: Shape Metal)

Transform 12 (Metal; Mass: 5,000 lbs.; Extras: Duration [Continuous, Lasting], Range [Perception]; Flaws: Action [Full], Distracting; Feats: Precise, Subtle) [50PP]

 

Electromagnetic Movement 3 (6PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power) [7PP] (Descriptors: Alien, Electromagnetic Control)

 

Base Power: [6PP]

Flight 5 (250MPH, 2,500ft [1/2 mile] per Move Action; Flaws: Platform; Feats: Subtle) [6PP]

 

Alternate Power: [5PP]

Super-Movement 5 (Permeate 3 [Full Speed]; Wall-Crawling 2 [Full Speed; Not flat-footed]; Flaws: Limited [Metal]) [5PP]

 

Force Field 9 (Extras: Impervious [12 ranks], Linked [Immunity]) [21PP] (Descriptors: Alien, Electromagnetic Control, Personal Magnetic Energy Field)

Immunity 25 (Electricity effects; Magnetism effects; Metal effects; Extras: Force Field [Free Action, Sustained Duration], Linked [Force Field]; Flaws: Limited [1/2 Effect]) [13PP]

 

Fryxian Biology 2 (10PP Container [Passive, Permanent]; Feats: Innate) [11PP] (Descriptors: Alien Biology)

 

Damage 2 (Feats: Mighty) [3PP] (Additional Descriptors: Head Butt, Horns)

 

Features 1 (Insulating Fur) [1PP]

 

Growth 2 (+4 Strength, +2 Constitution; Extras: Duration [Continuous]; Flaws: Permanent) [6PP]

 

Super-Senses 2 (Direction Sense; Radio) [2PP] (Descriptors: Alien, Electromagnetic Senses)

 

Super-Senses 7 (Electromagnetic Awareness [Electricity, Magnetism, and Metal]; Descriptor Frequency: Very Common; Sense Type: Radio, Default: Acute, Radius, Ranged; Extras: Accurate, Extended 2 [1,000ft Notice Increments]) [7PP] (Descriptors: Alien, Electromagnetic Sense)

 

 

ATTACK                      RANGE                 SAVING THROW              EFFECT

Unarmed                     Touch                 DC23 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Physical)

Horns                       Touch                 DC25 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Physical)

Blast (Lightning Bolt)      Ranged (4,250ft Max)  DC32 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Energy*)

Blast (Metal Projectiles)   Ranged (4,250ft Max)  DC32 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Physical*)

Magnetokinesis              Perception            Grapple vs +36 (Staged)   Pinned/Bound**

                            Perception            DC27 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Energy)**

 Thrown Object              Throwing (Str 80)     DC32 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Physical)

 Maximum Effort             Perception            Grapple vs +168 (Staged)  Pinned/Bound**

                            Perception            DC27 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Energy)**

 Thrown Object, Max Effort  Throwing (Str 420)    DC32 Toughness (Staged)   Damage (Physical)

Shape Metal                 Perception            DC22 Fortitude            Transformed

Snare                       Ranged (4,250ft Max)  DC27 Reflex (Staged)      Entangled/Bound

 

*Variable Descriptor.

**Only affects Metal targets.

 

 

Abilities (44) + Combat (28) + Saving Throws (18) + Skills (24) + Feats (7) + Powers (127) - Drawbacks (0) = 248/250 Power Points

 

Octoman

 

The Crime-Fighting Kraken's already-slightly-too-wide eyes grew even wider when Artificer's sister revealed her disfigurement. OH SNAP! Mermaid-Girl went all freaky fish-monster on us! Damn, this is some REAL stuff Squaddy's going through right now, and I wanna be here for him. But he's got a whole Squad of other Squaddies backin' him up right now. And someone's gotta go help those hostages. That's what Geckoman would do. Sorry, Dude. You're the distraction this time. I'll be back as soon as I can.

 

Still invisible to the naked eye, Octoman swam as quickly and quietly as he could toward the temple. He silently chuckled to himself as he looked down at himself, spotting the tiniest distortion between his body and the surroundings they were mimicking. "If it bleeds, we can kill it." Wait, no, I'M "it." Bad example. He crept up the walls, searching for a way inside. Gotta take it slow. Can't get a jet boost without ripping a super-fart, bubbles might as well be road flares lettin' everyone know I'm here. 'Sides, skin pigments can't keep up with the background if I go too fast. Learned THAT one the hard way. OK, start at the top, work your way down. Even fish-people never look up. There's gotta be somethin'...a hole, a vent, even a crack, somethin' I can squeeze through...

 

Perform (Oratory) check for Dirge's introduction: 21.

Dirge

 

The last Fryxian may very well have been the least observant sapient in the galaxy. Still, the gathering of Lor Navy and Star Knights alike, more or less directly in his path toward the structure which appeared to be the local tavern, was too unusual in its current context (or many others) to escape even his notice. His bright orange eyes squinted at them as he approached, silently appraising them. Strange. You barely see Lor civilians this far from...everything, let alone their military forces. You rarely see a Star Knight out here either, and never more than one. I did not know the local piracy problem was already so severe. Or it could be another matter entirely...No matter. If anyone on this world knows the best chance for a worthy death, it is they. He snorted derisively and sighed as he got closer. Puny, hairless monkeys. He raised an eyebrow at the male. Even more hairless than usual, that one. Perhaps he is dying from radiation poisoning. After all, the monkeys are quite fragile, ill-suited to the rigors of space travel even by the standards of the lesser races. The feline...I have seen her kind before, though I do not remember their name. The idea that there may be more than one felinoid race in the galaxy did not occur to him. They are stronger than they look. Powerful jaws. Filthy degenerates. Flesh-eating heathens. Great warriors, but they fight for no herd. Kanemu knew nothing of the Hapisian or his people, but when he examined the group and saw one among their number, he breathed a sigh of relief instead of disdain. Still, her prowess is doubtless what ingratiated her to a proper bovine. His glance ran up to the ragged stumps on the bull's head. One who has clearly seen battle, and sacrificed much.

 

"STAR KNIGHTS!" The bellowing blue-furred behemoth towered head and shoulders above the Lor and the F'terrix, and half a head above even the Hapisian, but he also appeared to be unarmed, save for the massive rack of curved horns running atop and alongside his skull, and unarmored, barely even clothed. He wore no robes, not even shoes, merely a belted loin cloth which left precious little to the imagination. He gave a nod of acknowledgement and what appeared to be a salute of some sort to the Hapisian. "Cousin." He shouted in Galstandard with a thick and muddled accent, nearly impossible to identify, frequently clenching his three-fingered hands into fists for even greater emphasis. "WARRIORS, HEED MY BLEAT AND REJOICE! For when your lambs and theirs ask you to sing songs of glories past, you can tell them of the day you first met KANEMU! Of the KRALLOS Herd! Son of DRUGO, he son of AMANI! DIRGE of The FRYXUS, BANE of the Star-Khan, the TRUE and RIGHTFUL masters of Ku'unum and the lesser worlds of the Harsaf! The stellar winds carry upon them rumors of DEATH waiting upon Temuera II! GLORIOUS death, for those with the COURAGE to seek it out! Tell me where to find it! And if that death eludes my grasp this day, if I emerge VICTORIOUS, then tell me who will set leaf and root upon my plate as fair recompense for that victory!"

 

24, plus a circumstance bonus for "Hey, @Tiffany Korta, c'mon, give her a circumstance bonus" makes it.

 

If anyone wants their character to have prior knowledge about Dirge or his race, I have no objection. They're obscure, but it's not impossible.

If anyone wants to mistake him for some other person or race, I'm cool with that too.

 

For anyone who wants to leave it up to the mechanics and the whims of fate: I haven't made up an official rep chart for Dirge yet, so for now I'd estimate it's a DC25 Knowledge check to know about the Fryxian race if you're from Lor space or spend most of your time there, or DC20 if you're from Khanate or unsettled/disputed space or spend most of your time there. Maybe as low as DC15 for someone who is or was specifically a bounty hunter by trade, or who was active in the Lor military or government back in the early 2000s. Galactic Lore is the obvious subskill, but for space-natives, History or Tactics would work too, maybe even Current Events (it happened years ago, but it was in "the news" when it happened). The high DC is on account of obscurity, not secrecy. The Fryxus were interplanetary but not interstellar, so they never had any influence beyond their own star system. The Khan specifically made an example of them, so he made sure the tale spread far and wide. He has a high enough bounty on any survivors that a successful hunter could retire comfortably on it (the equivalent of tens of millions of dollars at least), and since the Fryxus kept such detailed genealogical records, the targets are all named specifically. The Lor wound up taking in some refugees when the dust settled, and one (in)famous Lor captain was directly involved (see Dirge's backstory for details). But the genocide happened over a decade and a half ago, so even people who know the story might not know what a Fryxian looks like without looking it up.

 

Dirge

 

Kanemu of Ku'unum had only rudimentary knowledge of what the Lor Republic considered "modern technology" or the underlying science which made it function. He knew enough that he could understand what he was reading if he had to look something up, just not enough to remember what he'd read later. But his understanding was sufficient for the sorts of menial labor he subsisted on when mercenary work wasn't available, and that included the broader industrial applications of Tepeyoite ore, and, more likely relevant for his purposes, the best ways to mine it. And mine it he would, unless a more exciting employment opportunity presented itself, perhaps even the opportunity to die like a true Fryxian, to die a death glorious enough that his people would live on in the tales told of his great doom.

 

The passage he'd bought on the transport had drained the bulk of his credits, not that he'd ever had many to begin with. He'd lain on the bare plasteel of the not-really-converted cargo bay crammed in with other flotsam of the stars, mostly prospectors hoping that their fortunes would turn if they could catch some crumbs of the Tepeyoite boom before it ended. When the transport dumped them on Temuera II, one of its crew members repeatedly imitated the noise of a toilet flushing as the "discount" passengers filed out through the cargo bay doors. The massive blue-furred sheep-man turned around the second his feet touched the planet's soil, the moment he left the ship captain's legal jurisdiction, and head-butted the crewman hard enough to knock him out cold. There were two audible *CRACK*s, one when Kanemu's rack of curved horns and thick skull struck the man, and another when he fell and his head smacked against the inner hull of the cargo bay. Then Kanemu immediately turned back around and kept walking, oblivious to the reactions of his fellow passengers or the unconscious man's fellow shipmates.

 

The last Fryxian checked the pouch hanging under his scarlet loin cloth as he moved through the settlement. A few credits left on his stick, and a handful of tiny gems and ingots. Enough for a meal or two, maybe a night's drink, but he'd be sleeping in a barn tonight if he were lucky, or out in the street if he weren't. He needed paying work, and he needed it fast. The Fryxus deserved a better end to their saga than for the last of their herd to starve to death in a back alley. He strode purposefully toward the nearest bar.