Heritage

Ok, since we discussed this in the chats, I'm okay with this use of your power, but I have one last question before I post, and I'm sorry to be such a weenie. As described both in the post and in the IC die roll page, this sounds like a punch/melee attack, but in the OOC this sounds like a Gravity Attack linked with a Strength drain. I'm just trying to figure out A) how the demon would resist this, and how to describe it if he doesn't.

In a flash, the beautiful speedster's fist darts around like a hummingbird, seemingly in all places at once; the young toughs prove to be anything but, and seconds later they tumble to the floor in a tidy heap at Velocity's feet. - - - - - Mr. Red Eyes looks at Kevin incredulously, as though he was speaking a foreign language. "Immortality." He shakes his head and chuckles, and it is a hateful sound. "What else matters?" Suddenly, the veins in his neck start throbbing, and it spreads up to his temples. "Boys, I think it's time we got our groove on." The others nod, and soon the same effect is visible on both of their faces as well. A thin stream of drool leaks out of the corner of Red Eye's mouth as his grin gets more and more feral. "Ain't it great to be alive?" In a flash, their guns seemingly forgotten, the three boys leap at Kevin, the two previously hesitant boys attempting to pin his arms as their leader goes for his throat. - - - - - The two smaller boys look like their nerve is flagging, but the larger boy merely laughs. "I don't know about you, but I've always kinda preferred the hard path; Coach always said it builds character, and he was right. Coach was always right." One of the other boys is starting to visibly sweat. "Dude, he's a super. We can't take on supers, dude; we're not strong enough yet." The big guy turns and spits. "Shut up, Connor; maybe you're not, but I sure as hell am." He drops his backpack to the ground and motions for Blaster to approach him. "C'mon on now, sport; let's see what you're made of under that blue leotard."

Hi all. Sorry I've been completely absent the last few days; I had a very hectic work schedule over the weekend, which also lead to me getting pretty darn sick (I took off my weekday job today), completely sapping me of any creative energy. After taking lots of Dayquil and drinking cup after cup of cranberry juice, I'm finally starting to feel better, so I'm starting to post again as of now.

If Ryoga is not in fact interested, we might need a new baddie; heck, even if he is, maybe you two can team up. I will PM him to make sure, and we will move forward from there.

Ryoga, did I misinterpret your post as interest? If so, my bad, but it would be awesome if Captain Communist would be involved. If not, we might be able to make do with some NPCs goons of sufficient caliber.

I think you might be right on this, especially since 4E seems to have a lot more in common with WoW than 3.5. Flipping through the MM, I was disappointed by several other things. Dryads have been increasingly desexualized, why I'm not sure; in 3rd, they were smoking hot babes, in 3.5 they became smoking hot babes apparently carved out of wood, and in 4E they now appear to be large lumpy creatures formed from mud and twigs. I didn't read the full write-up, but that's what the picture showed. The lamia thing bugged me, too, not because of concept (which is actually cool), but because as others have said why call it a lamia? And dopplegangers are now just Eberron changelings with a different name; I can kinda see combining them, but why go for the weaker, more limited choice? My biggest disappointment is the loss of the mimic; sure, it's a silly monster, but to me that thing is one of the classic D&D monsters; taking it out of the MM makes me inexplicably sad. I will have to say the most singularly disturbing thing I've seen about 4E is no listing of magical treasure in the DMG, which bugs me on two levels: 1. The DMG has always been the Sears Wishbook for D&D players; I've been jonesing for a Ring of Shooting Stars since 1981, and I've still never got one, and the Rod of Lordly Might (insert double entrede here) has been the Lamborghini of magic items for decades. Leaving out the magic items hurts more than losing the mimic. 2. I smell a separate splatbook that everyone is going to feel compelled to buy, meaning the real magical treasure will be leaving our bank accounts and heading towards Washington State. Grr!

I hope this is a good flick, and I love the clips with Chuck and James Lipton.

Ok, so it sounds like the North End might be a good place to start. Since CC would be our 'bad guy' (though I love how his communist outlook makes labeling him difficult), we need to figure out what he's up to in the North End that would take him away from South Freedom, where it sounds like he's based. The NE has some museums, the university and ASTRO Labs; maybe one of them might have an item the Revolution needs? I would tend to lean away from the museum, since it seems to get hit all the time, and a technological MacGuffin to me sounds more likely. Here's one possible scenario: Right now, Gossamer is, to my knowledge, the Norseman's only friend in FC, so it's natural they might hang out from time to time (even though we're still RPing their first meeting). Maybe late one night Ullgir comes by the lab to visit his midnight oil burning friend (she's vouched for him, so he can easily get a visitor's pass) at precisely the same time as CC is planning to break in to ASTRO for a vital component to complete the 'People's Patriotic Atom-Colliding Weapon' or some such thing. Meanwhile, Lullaby has just left a gig at an off-campus bar when she sees CC and members of the lumpenproleteriat making ready to kick their plan into gear. Wesley is currently asleep in his car in a student parking structure, and hears the ensuing fracas. Contrived? You bet! But most meetings and match-ups in comics are, so it ain't nothing new. Obviously this is just one idea, but I think we could use it as a framework. I haven't seen much of Lullaby, Wesley or CC in action yet, so I'm still a little foggy on how you all operate; let me know if this idea has any merit, or inspires something much better to take it's place.

Just so we're all clear, that's not an actual ad she placed; it's a metaphor or something, I dunno. So we have three heroes, 3 PL11 and one PL6, and one PL11 bad guys; where do people's characters hang out? Right now, Gos mostly splits her time between Hanover and the North End, but she likes shopping and culture, too, so she could end up almost anywhere Downtown. She hasn't really begun an actual patrol schedule and route per se, but she might want to start.

I would like to spend my one pp for Gossamer on a rank of Wealth, to reflect her signing a licensing deal. Now to start saving up for some fun stuff! Updated by V_M

Okay, here's my spending for Grim: 2 pp to buy 8 ranks of Intimidate; about time the bad guys started taking her seriously. :twisted: 1 pp to add 4 more ranks to Notice; about time this supposedly hypersensitive girl started sensing stuff. :roll: Updated by V_M

Sorry, I got very behind on most of my threads last week. I don't think we need to play the whole thing, so I'm down with montaging it. Any other votes?

Estelle nods in agreement. "Yes, that looks like a wonderful spot." Once they arrive at the tree, the blond super spreads her about half her hair over the grass like a blanket, lengthening it a bit to cover more ground; she takes a seat and gestures for the Norseman to join her. "Believe me, it's very clean and won't get into anything." The surface is very soft and surprisingly comfortable. She continues talking as she uses both hands and several tendrils to start spreading out the food on disposable Chinette plates. "Don't worry if you spill anything, I can stop by the fountain for a quick rinse later." What's most striking about Dr. de Havilland's power is how natural she makes it seem, all of her extra 'hands' working in concert like she's been this way her whole life; her attitude does much to preserve a sense of normality, but it cannot banish the oddness entirely.

Grim can't help but chuckle and shake her head. "Boss, have you looked at your masked face in the mirror lately? You have 'commanding presence' up the wazoo! You called this meeting, the team was your idea, and though you might hate to admit it, you're a natural leader." The diminutive crimefighter smiles and shrugs. "Now, no one said a leader can't delegate things so he doesn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders all the time. Being a leader is about setting an example, and telling someone if they're doing a good job or not, and not being a jerk about it either way. It's listening to others' opinions before making a tough call, and yeah, taking the responsibility if you mess up, which can suck, but still." And now her eyes are practically glowing, and Grim chokes up just a little. "You're a hell of a leader, boss; why do you think I'm still with you? I'd follow you to hell and back." Then she makes an off-handed gesture in Hub's direction. "And he can be like your co-captain, like Riker on Next Generation, only less annoying and no beard."

Sorry, I've been quite the slacker in this thread, will try to keep up, hence the new IC post.

As quiet as a somewhat injured invisible mouse, Grim sneaks over to the two-way door and nervously peeks into the other room, ready to leap out of the way if someone notices the movement and comes charging at the door.

Well, Grim is doing that while taking a Total Defensive posture :)

Ah, sweet illegally-purchased alcohol, how I love thee! Lynn sits on the roof of the Freedom Aquarium and has another swig of beer, which she's actually not that crazy about, but it seems like the thing to drink on the Fourth. Before her is spread the whole of Freedom Harbor, now dotted with boats of every shape and size as the last rays of sunlight continue to slowly drop below the horizon to her back. The breeze off the river is cool and drenched with a wide variety of smells, not all of them pleasant, and Lynn can clearly hear the orchestra playing at the bandshell in Riverside Park. The young vigilante takes a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out. To call it a fight would probably be a bit much, but it was definitely a disagreement, and she would have to make it up to him; Ren didn't understand why she didn't want to hang out for the Fourth, and her vague mention of previous plans clearly irritated him. God, I put that poor guy through the ringer sometimes. Soon her sensitive ears pick up the buzzing of large diaphanous wings, and Lynn lets out an irritated sigh; she reaches down into the cheap Styrofoam cooler, snags another beer, and holds it up without even looking. "You're late, Carmine." A stick-like chitinous arm takes the offered beer. "Sorry, Epstone," mumbles a wet crackling voice. The giant insect lands beside her, his head a sticky mass of feelers and mouthparts topped with a pair of glittering compound eyes that somehow still manage to look sheepish. "I hadda fix a generator up on seven, and then Mr. Pitt, well..." Lynn turns to look at him sharply. "Mr. Pitt what? You still doin' jobs for that psycho?" Carmine waves two sets of arms defensively. "No, no, nothing like that, just, y'know, a favor. He's like the landlord, sometimes you have to pay, y'know?" He pries off the cap with a pincer and somehow manages to take a swig. Lynn continues to shake her head. "I don't like you doin' jobs for him, that's all." The bug man snorts, and a viscous fluid bubbles out of an orifice. "Yeah, well maybe if you were around more he wouldn't be leanin' on the rest of us so much." He takes a deep breath, a disturbing papery rattle, then extends one of his arms to lightly touch Lynn's shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry, let's not fight. I really appreciate you askin' me out here; looks like a beautiful night for the show, huh?" The young girl shrugs. "I guess." "How are things with Loverboy, anyway? You two done it yet?" "Carmine!" She softly punches him in the side of his thorax, not too hard because he's built like a piñata. The bug man laughs, takes a long pull of beer and shakes his grotesque bristly head. "I didn't think so. What are you waiting for, sweet thing? He's a guy, he thinks with one thing!" "I dunno; soon, not that it's any of your business." "Yeah, well, you can kiss my butt, sweetie." "You don't have a butt, Carmine. Just an abdomen." "Touché." They both sit in silence as they sip their beers, waiting for darkness as the band continues to work its way through every patriotic American tune known to man. Carmine finally breaks the silence. "You really gonna move out this month?" "That's what it looks like." "And you're sure this is what you want? Think of all your giving up!" Now it’s Lynn’s turn to snort. "'What I’m giving up?’ Like no showers, rats and neighbors who would kill me for a used air freshener if they had the chance? I don’t think so; those are things I’m glad to give up.†The giant insect wags a long clawed finger. “No, things like gettin’ to come and go as you please, no taxman breathing down your neck, livin’ off the grid. I’m talkin’ about freedom, real genuine freedom.†Lynn sighs and starts picking at the label of her beer with her thumbnail. “Look, I know I’m giving up a lot; I’ve given up a lot already, it’s just…some things are worth the sacrifice, y’know? Ren is worth the sacrifice.†Carmine can only shake his head sadly. “Well, I hope you know what your doin’.†Lynn smiles. “Me, too. To new beginnings.†The bug man clinks his bottle against hers. “To new beginnings.†Just then the band in the park starts into "Stars and Stripes Forever", echoed through radios and loudspeakers all over the city. Carmine wipes his mouthparts with a spindly leg and points out over the water. “Now shut up and watch the fireworks.†BOOM!

The two near-misses Grim's taken hurt like the blazes, but thankfully don't seriously impair her; they do, however, make her very pissed off. I am not going to die in some stupid deathtrap, not if I can help it. She shoots quick darting glances around the chamber, looking for anything like an air vent or seam she can try and pry open, or anything else that might be even vaguely useful. Her other thought is somehow getting up behind a turret (Rival might have to throw her), and see if she could rip apart the works with her claws. But as intently as she scans the room for a possible way out, she remains ever vigilant for the next attack, which will surely come from where she least expects it.

The box has been sitting on Estelle's coffee table for three days, but she has not had the nerve to open it. The blond heroine stares at it as she sits on her leather couch, wrapped in a terry cloth robe as she gnaws on a thumbnail, nervously pumping her leg. Her amazing golden hair is draped majestically over the entire couch; it’s still wet from the shower that took twenty-five minutes and god knows how many gallons of water, and it takes forever to dry out. "To heck with this." Estelle extends a damp golden pseudopod to pick up the box and bring it to her as she straightens up to get a better look. Her extra limbs easily slice through the shipping tape and worm their way inside to draw forth several mock-ups for a proposed line of Gossamer toys. The sensitive fibers prod, stroke and probe the figures like alien life forms from a Japanese cartoon, testing the quality of the designs. After several minutes of through examination, a slender filament darts across the room, lassos Estelle’s cell phone and brings it to her waiting hand. “Hello?†“Hi, is this Paul?†“Speaking.†“Hi Paul, it’s Estelle de Havilland.†“Oh hi, Estelle!†“I’m so sorry to call you on your day off-" “No, no, it’s fine; I’m just getting ready to prep the grill. What can I do for you?†She picks up one of the smaller figures and studies it carefully. “Well, I’ve finally gotten around to looking over the prototypes you sent me, and I’ve got some feedback.†She chuckles ruefully. “To be honest, I’ve been avoiding it, but now it’s Saturday, and the box has been staring back at me all morning.†Paul Becker, head of the toy division of Development Concepts, laughs on the other end. “It’s a perfectly normal reaction, Stelle; either you can’t wait to see them or you live in dread of the day you do. It’s one or the other for everyone the first time they see themselves molded in plastic.†“I’m sure. I just had a few thoughts I wanted to rattle off, but if you’re busy…†“Don’t your worry ‘bout a thing, I’ve got pen and paper right here. Shoot.†“Well for starters, none of them look a thing like me; one appears to have acromegaly, this one has been inbred to the point of chinlessness, aaaaaaand this one…well, this one has two different sized eyes, one nostril and appears to be in the throes of religious ecstasy. I can’t say I’m pleased by the selection, but if I had to pick, I’d go with the Chinless Wonder; she looks a bit like my Great Aunt Pearl.†As she talks to Paul, the beautiful chemist has looped fine strands of hair around all three prototypes, and is dancing them across a landscape of golden hillocks she’s formed on the couch for her own amusement. Unfortunately, the movement attracts the interest of her cat May-Ray, who unbeknownst to Stelle has been watching the proceedings with great interest; in a flash, the cat leaps upon the chinless mock-up, savagely biting its tiny head. The low golden hills erupt in alarm as Estelle yelps and leaps to her feet, the whole of her animated head of hair roiling in a brief panic. For a moment May-Ray is completely engulfed beneath the amber waves before the heroine comes to her senses and releases his on the floor, allowing him to scamper off into a dark corner. “Estelle? What’s going on?†She plucks the discarded phone off the floor as she scrutinizes the damage to the figure. “I’m sorry, Paul, I just dropped the phone. My cat attacked Great Aunt Pearl, and it looks the old girl’s done for; she may never show her face in public again.†There is a long sigh from the other end of the phone. “Well, we already knew you didn’t like that one, so I guess it already did its job.†“She fell bravely in the line of duty.†“Heh, yeah, something like that. Other than the faces, anything else, anything you actually like?†“Well other than the face, I really like the look of the Rondo Hatton figure; the costume is well done, the pose is dynamic, slightly heightened yet still realistic, and my boobs are just about the right size. If it wasn’t for the Neanderthal brow and Popeye jaw, I’d give my approval on that one.†“Well that is excellent news, Stelle; maybe we can schedule time for you to have your face laser scanned-“ This gets an instant reaction from Estelle, who shakes her head violently as she goes off in search of her cat. “No, absolutely not; I’ve seen how women’s faces turn out from the scans, and they look horrible. Men’s faces turn out fine, but for some reason, women’s…no, but I do have an idea.†Paul sighs. “Okay, I’m all ears.†Estelle finally locates May-Ray behind the couch; she coils her hair up into a thick braid that falls down her back and starts to gently coax the frightened cat out. “I know a sculptor named Xavier Maki, who does the most amazing miniatures; I’d like him to have a crack at the maquette, if that’s alright.†“Does he work cheap?†Finally with her cat in her arms, the blond heroine returns to the couch, scratching behind his ears. “Not usually, no, but we might be able to get him for cheap; I think he’d love the challenge, and the novelty of the concept might give us a bit of leverage.†Estelle grins. “Also he has a mad crush on me, and a chance to have me model for him might be impossible to resist.†“Hah! Well, if you can make it work, it sounds great.†“Good. Now, onto the ‘Gossamer Glitter’ dress-up doll…â€Â

Well I managed to do a good one from Grim, for whom freedom is a big issue, but I wasn't able to finish the one for Gossamer in time; it's just as well, since the freedom analogy was a real stretch. I'll take out the 4th of July references and put it up in the News section when I finish it later this weekend. Off to see me some fireworks, Chicago style!

Gossamer groans and rolls her eyes. "You have no idea; I'm probably going to have to move out of my condo because a conventional shower is just not equiped to handle this much hair, and I'm spending a fortune on hair care products. I've sketched out an idea for a sort of miniature waterfall that would then recycle the water to reduce the enviromental impact of my showering, but it will cost a lot of money to design and construct. As grotuesque as I find the concept, I may have to accept an offer to license my likeness for a line of dolls and action figures." She sighs and shrugs. "But maybe I'm being too harsh; after all, I'm probably a better role model than Barbie in my sleep." When practicing and teamwork are discussed, the blonde heroine frowns slightly. "I actually haven't done anything particularly heroic, for lack of a better word; I bought a Viking lunch and helped a man change a flat, but that's about it." She smiles a bit sheepishly. "To be honest, part of why I came here was the opportunity to meet and network with other heroes, so I could actually make myself useful." Gossamer lays a finger across her lips in amused contemplation. "Hmm, there are definitely possibilities to be explored here; if you don't mind, I'd like to pick you up." The twinkle in her eye suggests she's aware of the double entendre. A thin bundle of fibers, no thicker than a finger, extends out of the golden cloud and gently wraps itself around the pint-sized hero; while she's able to lift him easily, Estelle is still surprised to feel Rusty's actual weight. "My goodness, that's fascinating! Forgive me for saying so, Rusty, but you're rather dense." She smiles as she hefts him up and down a few times. "Just how resistant to injury are you, Rusty? It occurs to me that I could form a sling and hurl you a great distance, but of course I'd need to be sure you'd survive the actual impact."

I have to admit I'm kind of stymied here as to how to survive this room, since it appears we have a 'gun hydra' situation going on. My one desperate thought is based on the area of the walls the guns came out of; is there any sort of space behind the housings that Grim might be able to wriggle into if Rival sort of lobs her up there? She can climb it but throwing would be faster.

I just finished counting up my posts for the month of June and was appalled to see that while Grimalkin (a known attention hog) racked up 40 posts, poor Gossamer had to make do with a measily 9. This is an outrage! Of course it's all my fault, so I mean to rectify it by placing the ad below:

There is a quick yelp from Grim as she is snatched up, but then she quickly goes limp. "No worries; I love it when I don't die." Ren can hear the smile in her soft voice, and a gloved hand strokes his smooth metalic back.