MarkK

July 7th. 1993. That was the day that the future savior of Broadway was born. His name was to be Gordy St. James, first child of Gina Favro-St. James and Robert St. James. Though most significant- Lilly stuck her head into Gordy’s room as he was typing away on his new desktop PC he had just gotten for his birthday. “Are you writing your autobiography again? You’ve been in one touring production, how are you famous?†Gordy steadfastly refuses to look toward the door as he continues typing. “Hey, everyone has to start small. Besides, I am famous. Everyone at the Beaudrie knows my name.†“Big deal, they know my name too, ‘cause mom still drags me their instead of just letting me sit at home after school. How come you get to go to boarding school?†Gordy smiles in a way he knows will infuriate his younger sister. “Because I’m special.†Lilly grunted in annoyance. This was the answer she got whenever she asked about Gordy getting to go away for school, while she was stuck going to Eisner. Still, mom and dad weren’t making her go to summer camp as a way of forcing her into more normal social interaction. So she had that to be happy about. “Mom says it’s time for dinner. You’ll just have to lie about how awesome your life is later.†Birthday dinners where always a nice affair for the Favro-St. James family. Thomas, and it was always Thomas, never Tom or Tommy, had come by this year. Lilly was fairly certain he was only there for the free meal, but it was nice to see her half brother from time to time. “So short stuff, how’s it feel to be 15?†Thomas liked rubbing it in that he took after his father, and at 17 he stood 6’2, towering almost a foot over his half-brother. Gordy stuck his tongue out at Thomas. Still calling him short all the time. Five dollars says that with a year of school at Claremont under his belt he could take him in a fight. Not that mom would approve. Plus he was supposed to keep his powers secret from his siblings, Thomas especially. Godry had heard horror stories about Thomas father and his knack for exploiting people. There was a good chance he would try to get back into his mothers life if he found out about Gordy. “Well Tom, I have to say I feel ever so much more mature. In fact Tom, I’m not even going to rise to your bait about my height. Especially not when I have a show tomorrow. You’ll have to come by Tom, see me with all the flowers and accolades we actors earn.†Across the table Gina smiled, though she was obviously a little tired. Even with Robert making more money now then when the family lived in the Fens, Gina still had to work long hours at Beaudrie to afford the new place, and to pay Claremont tuition. She still couldn’t believe that Robert had bought Gordy a computer for his birthday. Oh, sure he rationalized that it was something the whole family could use, and it would help him with his case files, but Gina knew he just liked spoiling the kids. The upcoming bills for summer camp for Gordy and dance camp for Lilly spoke to that. But as long as they kept making rent and utilities Gina couldn’t really complain. Godry was halfway through his second helping of baked ziti when there was a knock on the door. They where early. Probably looking for free food. Lilly gets up and answers the door, letting in Frank and Bill, though Gordy more often referred to them as Marius and Enjorlas, the characters they would be playing. “Hi guys. You’re early. We haven’t even gotten to the cake yet.†Gordy saw the smiles they tried to hide. Part of him was amused at his cast mates transparent gesture. And part of him was annoyed that as actors they didn’t hide their smiles better. “I suppose we should do that part now.†After a round of happy birthday, a rather vocally full round thanks to the participants, and a slice of cake for everyone, Gordy grabbed his overnight bag and hugged his mother, his sister and his father. Thomas he punched in the shoulder after receiving the same. Off to an acting gig in Autumn Arbor, the first of a few weekend away performances he was going to be in this summer. Some kids might want an X-Box or a Wii for their birthdays. Gordy just wanted to be famous. This was step one.

It was the third time he had to give his report that the Emissary realized something was apparently very wrong. “.. and then I wrapped the lamppost around the fellow so that he could be restrained until you arrived.†For a third time he nodded back towards the unconscious, misshapen behemoth. The Emissary’s prone foe was propped up against the front of a bank that had undergone a way more literal smash and grab than usual. It was some new thug calling himself “Smash-orâ€Â. The Emissary felt his sincere in-fight asking about “smash, or what?†and follow up suggestion to go with ‘Smasher’ to avoid confusion was just being nice. It certainly didn’t deserve the stream of profanity he was given in reply. It was a clash that ended quickly all the same, repeatedly explaining all this to the police was actually taking longer. Like the first two times, they nodded blankly, and he sighed. “Is there something specific I have not provided? If so, you need but tell me, and I will do my best to accommodate. Please.†One officer coughed. Another scratched the back of their head. A third looked away. “Well… ah…†“Yes?†“… uhm… what’s with the hat?†Secured by a thin elastic under his chin, the Emissary was wearing a brightly multicoloured party hat. He blinked. “The.. oh! The hat. Well, it /is/ my birthday.†The Emissary’s tone had that sort of matter of fact tone that assumed he had now perfectly explained everything. The still confused stares begged to disagree. So he frowned slightly and continued. “My birthday? A day in which being otherwise extremely busy for most of it, I thought it would be fun to make some gesture towards celebration and glee all the same?†“Oh, well, uh.. Happy Birthday?†The Emissary managed to smile cheerfully through a faint exasperation he was now feeling. “Thank you very much officers.†He took aloft at that, his usual silvery blue streak through the skies having a bit of a red, pink and orange touch to it. The baffled reactions continued throughout the day, through patrols, paperwork, training sessions and meetings. The lowest point for the Emissary was definitely the small child. Who after being pulled away from an oncoming car and asking the same question everyone else did, offered a scrunched up face and accompanying comment of “that’s weird Mister Emissary. You’re being weird.†The Emissary was grumbling just a little by the end of the day. His hat was actually in hand as he made his way into his office, and he began to understand that expression that much more. He pulled out one of his favourite books from the shelf and plunked down on the floor to sit back against it, losing himself in Never-Neverland. “I actually think it looks quite festive.†He looked over with surprise, and then a fast, bright smile to see the shimmering, projected image of Councillor Sarlyn, his father. “I know! There were several others in the store, but that one seemed the most celebratory of them all.†Cheered, he put the hat back on as Sarlyn moved to “sit†down beside him. “So.. another year older, and another year of The Emissary Project besides. Quite the accomplishment my son, there were those in the council who felt it could not possibly last this long. You should be very proud.†The Emissary did beam at such praise, but then titled his head. “I am actually hoping to submit a request to get the name of this initiative changed. With my research into popular culture, it apparently makes me sound like some kind of British progressive rock band.†Sarlyn laughed at that, shaking his head. The Emissary just smiled. “I believe, if we are speaking of the customs of this world, there are several others we should attend to on this day.†Sarlyn gestured, and a small tray appeared before the Emissary with a flash, on it a brightly wrapped package, and a chocolate cupcake with a single lit candle in it. The Emissary held it up with a grin mirrored by that of his father. “So this entitles me to a birthday wish, does it?†Sarlyn nodded, and the Emissary furrowed his brow in thought, before carefully blowing out the flame. “What did you wish for?†“By my understanding, if I say, it does not come true.†“Ahh.. an intriguing mystery then.†They sat and pondered this solemnly for a moment before the Emissary buckled. “A pony for a young girl in the Make a Wish program. She very much wants one. Having told you, I am already scheduling appointments in my mind to encourage the fundraising to get it to her anyway.†Sarlyn chuckled. “A self fulfilling wish eh? And not even one for yourself? Perhaps for our people to accept as one the goals and philosophies behind The Emissary.. Experiment, and your very birth?†The Emissary shook his head. “I may as well have wished for world peace then. And as it true for either, I would want them to be something earned, something claimed and held to tightly so that it is naturally a part of those who have so accepted. Something they have grown into, something they have chosen. Every birthday I celebrate in this wider world is an affirmation of that one day hope. That each year I am here, I am doing my part to inspire the better part of people that only needs a helpful nudge to come to the surface. My creation.. my birth, was an act of hope. That the best of us could be used to make all societies as one. That the Utopians could stay on this earth and that humanity could become their equal partner. That there is a goodness to this planet, a quality, and that I can help everyone come to share in it. I am.. honoured by that.. I celebrate, revel in that, and I hold it as my personal challenge to meet. Doing it all in some cheap, dazzling magic flash would be like saying that collective hope was not good enough on its own. And I would never want to say such a thing. What worth could there be in any of us if I did? Why would we deserve our goals if I said or believed such a thing about the best part of us, and its power?†Sarlyn nodded with a proud approval. “Open your gift my son.†Carefully unwrapping the bright paper (he was going to save it), the Emissary found to his delight, a complete recorded run of Fox Kids’ Peter Pan and the Pirates, and a gaudily coloured noisemaker. He looked to his father happily, and noted Sarlyn was already hefting a similar noisemaker to his lips. “Happy Birthday Emissary.†They sounded out a commemoration of his creation together.

With a last few adjustments of the controls from Emissary, gunmetal grey training drones stream out from the walls, pairing off and making a beeline for each of the gathered heroes, forearms ending in blaster cannons that begin to crackle to life in rising pulses of energy.

Sorry about the delay, work sort of kicked my ass this week. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1790594/ The robots go on 10, so... Arrowhawk, Sentry, Archangel, Raven, Robots. You're each being attacked by a pair of them.

That limit for disable device still honestly doesn't feel like much of a limit.

Alright, clarify for me, did you take the limit out of your enhanced skills?

The main thing here is, you've basically traded off for a somewhat higher magic rating, the extreme fragility of your character. You've got multiple saves at, well, 2. If you lowered magic by a rank or two, they might at least both be at 6 or something.

Sorry, got drowned by work longer than I'd thought, okay...

init rolls!

The Emissary went over the readings taken from the attacks. "That was potent indeed Sentry. You and Archangel seem to strike apace with each other, if that was your curiosity." Meanwhile, Arrowhawk's focused shot sailed quickly through the air, wind whistling around the feathered shaft. With a faint pinging noise and a far more soild sounding thunk, it embedded itself dead center in one of the flying squares, seemingly in the same moment it flared to life with a red glow. Trading force for acuity did mean it stuck in partway, as opposed to shooting through completely. "Very well done, a mirror of one of the Bowman's shots I think." He pressed a few more buttons at that. "Alright, I'm going to send a few training drones out at each of you as a warmup before the grouped simulation, and so that you can see each other in action before it." No sooner had he spoke, than a hiss began echoing around the room, as metal panels shifted and slid back as smooth circles along the walls, sets of red eyes glowing from the darkened portals that opened.

It's not an actual fight or anything, so I'm fine with noting you had wanted to so use it, sure.

"With whatever sort of assault you would use in a fight that you feel is most potent," confirms the Emissary. "Well, within reason. Don't blow up the entire room or any such thing, if you can."

Going to try and set up an Acrobatic Bluff on the Doc, maxing out defensive attack this turn while so doing. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1778483/ Hur.. well, check of 18 total for it.

Given an opening after one of the androids drops, The Emissary pushes himself into a faster, more forceful arc, eyeing Otaku's battle platform warily. He moves to spiral up to and around the board, angling to send daylight shimmering off his silver skin and into Otaku's eyes, hoping at least to draw fire and prevent potshots from being taken at Velocity as she engages the robots.

So basically, just describe hitting something really hard, except for Arrowhawk, who I'll want an attack roll from.

The Emissary sat back within the control room as he spoke with Velocity, fiddling with a few of the buttons. The Wreck Room itself lit up at that, shimmering into view before Sentry, Raven and Archangel were rectangles of glowing blue white energy. The Emissary's voice then came in over the intercom "This is just an effort to record striking power, so if you could hit one of those as hard as you could. However, for Arrowhawk..." A series of far smaller, even tiny squares, looking to be of the same energy, formed mid air and began whirling around each other in what looked to be random, dizzying patterns, fast enough to leave glimmering, mutually obscuring trails. "Something different. This is one of Bowman's marksmanship excercises. One of those squares will, for a split second, pulse red. He is generally speaking able to hit it through the center in the moment it does."

Are you guys wanting me to skip ahead to the actual fair and such?

Among other things, if you took disable device and computers out of the skills your enhanced int applies to.

Ako goes before me, no?

Sorry on the delay, writer's blocked a bit. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like an initative roll from you.

After speaking, Emissary flew away in a wide, backwards arc, letting him take a separate approach back in. Ionica was far too high up to likely be spotted anyway, but there was no good reason to draw attention to where she was. He floated through the ramshackle and abandoned warehouses, back to where he had been before though at far lowee altitude. He did not have to wait long, hearing the scrape of their shoes on the pavement long before a seedy looking group in worn leather jackets and torn up jeans made their way out from behind a few buildings. There was something.. unhealthy about them, something beyond the usual, a more jagged echo to their greasy smiles, an ever so often flicker of a greenish, diseased cast to their skin, fingernails filed to points as if faux talons, the skin around them red and broken, sores oozing. They had taken up company with the infernal, and it was taking a toll. "You think you're going to just waltz in here and do us up like those little girls in Cesar's crew?" Even the sneering yell of what looked to be their leader felt off, shrill, and like nails being dragged over a chalkboard. The Emissary maintained his usual calm. "Oh, well, no, of course not, that would make no sense. This is a completely different situation. Defeating you will be impossible to replicate in exactly the same way." This was not exactly the standard defiant banter response they were expecting, but they managed a hearty "Your mother!" after a moment's confusion. In the mass lunge, three of them seemed to.. rip right out of their own skin, mortal flesh and clothing falling to red smearing tatters in their wake. They loomed as misshaphen beasts out of a nightmare, reddened skin gnarled and over muscled, bone spurs jutting out here and there, encircled by the gore of their own bodies. Massive hands ended in serrated claws to match the racks of horns that curved back along their heads, set atop faces that were a twisted mockery of human, their warcries forced out through all pointed teeth. They ran forward on hooves, and there were gouts of fire scorching the earth in each thudding step. The Raven's intelligence had pointed to demons, and it was spot on.

Again, that doesn't really seem like much of a limitation, as that feels like "disable device: pretty much everything but mundane locks".

Sure.

Don't especially need anything, no. You guys can always get in some interaction while the Emissary and Velocity hash out what they want to do though.

He nodded in response. "A good choice I think. I'll put in a few warm up exercises and power measuring sorts of things to get them started. Besides of which, Arrowhawk would likely be displeased without at least the one chance to test himself against a record of Bowman's."