Dariusprime

"Thank you," was her soft reply, along with a loving look of her own. She leaned back in her chair as Viktor delved further into the topic. Given her reach though, their hands remained intertwined. The thoughtful look on her betrayed little information, but she nodded to his conclusion. Nothing really more to say perhaps. Truth be told, she was drifting down other trains of thought again too. Mona worried about Viktor. He was a fundamentally good man, but so much had happened to him. The decision to erase his memories were well outside of her control. After all she was still dreaming the sleepless dream of death in the Terminus at the time. Why the powers-that-be would do so made sense. The long-term repercussions hadn't been fully considered though. Only after the fact had his doctors formulated a plan. No wonder the man had providers across continents. Triakosia's ship did bring up another issue: space. Mona did not know Miss Americana well, but the two seemed to share the same reservations. Maybe not reservations, but questions, about Viktor's motivations for this journey. The couple had discussed this idea at length. Lately though he seemed more firm in his convictions. She decided to broach the subject again. "Speaking of ships, how is your ship coming along? Finally settle on a name?"

The OOC thread for here.

Friday, June 21st, 2019, 6:23 pm Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship The West End, bustling and chaotic, was winding down for the evening. While still short of sundown, the cooling day drew people to porches and cafes and away from the daily grind. The weekend was at hand, and the weather was lovely. It was at this moment, a warm breeze whistling between the buildings, that something odd happened. In the alley behind the Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship a series of rents opened in space. Or more specifically, five thin, two-dimensional lines, spaced like vertical claw marks, split open space. The lines widened, drawing back reality to reveal two figures. The tall one stepped through the portal followed by smaller. "Good girl, Penny. You're improving every day," said the larger figure: Mona. The smaller figure, a Siamese mix the size of a giant bobcat, meowed her reply. Mona was expected. Word travels quickly in the West End. Especially when Gina "Nana" Espadas was Mona's first visit. There was catching up, pictures of grand kids, and the general goings on in the neighborhood. Then Gina put the word out that Mona was back in town. Not that she was really ever gone. You see, Fulcrum had gone globe. But she was always in contact. Video chatting from an art exhibition in Berlin. Seashells from the Seychelles. Pictures of sushi from Tokyo. Boxing footage with a mutated Tasmanian devil (no one was hurt). Postcards from Dakana. Lots of pictures of rampaging, giant robots. A surprising number. And from time-to-time, she'd fly home to provide her famous Mona Bear Hugs and all sorts of eclectic presents. Recently though...she'd been going silent for longer periods. Months at a time even. Today that ended. Before the portal swirled closed, Mona plucked out a large steamer trunk and hoisted it over one shoulder. She smiled as she knocked on the back door. Home sweet home.

Mona looked crestfallen. Despite all its associations, the Terminus was a favorite topic of hers. Still she perked up at the mention of the Zero Zone. The term wasn't totally unfamiliar, but frankly, she had only heard the layman's basics. Viktor, having been a member of the League, on the other hand... She smiled in parallel. Though hers had as much to do with him being happy. Being himself again. ...probably knew a lot about it. "I will text her first thing in the morning! This is so exciting. The technological breakthroughs alone would be worth the look, but the basic science would be groundbreaking. I mean, has much research actually been conducted on the Zero Zone? From what I understand, you'd need ArcheTech-level resources. Her ship's tech could open an entire new avenue of funding for physicists!" Penny, uncaring of the conversation about her, purred away and tried valiantly to guide Viktor's hand back to her ears. But deep tissue massages? Now while Penny was a dense ball of muscle, such attention reduced her to a cat's natural state: fluid. She was putty in his hands. The large cat yielded into a loaf and yawned. Her slowly flexing claws tugged at space itself. Mona, long accustomed to his diverging thought chains, didn't miss a beat. "I went in blind. What I can tell you is that she is the perhaps the most earnest, wholesome, flying brick I have ever encountered. Now I realize that heroes have public personas, but she completely embodies the 'American Sweetheart' role. Perhaps, just perhaps, she really is that good of a person." A wistful look came over her, while her voice sounded, jealous? Though she pushed that tone away. "Reminds me of Centurion. Just so damn kind and true and virtuous and inspirational." "Sorry, I'm rambling." With a light chuckle, she turned her attention back to her tea.

"I love you too." Her eyes said she meant every word. Someday, she knew, he would make peace with himself. A new, whole Viktor who was so much more than anyone who came before. A dainty ding sounded as he began speaking. Her form blurred for split second, but before his hand registered her absence, she returned coffee cup in (off) hand. A fresh brew, just the way he liked it, and with a pinkish sheen of his manganese supplement to boot. The word "daka", as usual, elicited a reaction somewhere between annoyance and grimace. This was especially true after her jaunt through space and time three years ago. Paradoxically, her tolerance level had improved while the effects were more pronounced in her coordination and motor skills. She was ever grateful to have a truly great mind pondering on her strange resonance. Before she could refocus herself this time, Viktor moved on. Slowly, comprehension dawned on her face. Her jaw fell open at the full gravity of the situation. "I completely agree! Would that suggest another phase to the Terminus? A different frequency? She only said 'Void', which I took to mean the Terminus. This though...depending on how it functioned..." Mona was no scientist, but she could see the possibilities. Stealth technology, anti-Terminus cloaking, suspended animation, even containment...maybe not that last one.

Mona watched Viktor's face. Technorganic or not, his face was quite expressive when thinking. Or perhaps Mona had just known him long enough to know his tells. Either way watching him think was fascinating to watch in its own right. Even if she had to lovingly steer him back to the topic. "Understandable yes, but not exactly well considered. Being a blind test of sorts for both of you from the sound of it." Judging from the tightness of her mouth, she was still a bit miffed herself. Listening to Viktor, her face softened to her contented baseline when the super scientist was about. She was drifting along with his new chain of thought when he derailed himself. She squeezed his hand again. "Viktor Helmut Archeville. You do not have to apologize for slipping into Super-Scientist mode. Remember it was that big brain that attracted me to you in the first place." "It's true," she added momentarily, "Yes, you were, and are, quite dashing, but that wasn't all. I'm just amazed you can tolerate someone who can't keep up with you." "To answer your questions, she has been active in Freedom City for a few years now. From what I gathered, she arrived here with powers. I do not know if she was lying low. She was a Centurion of the Triakosia Legion, and volunteered for the mission when Omega attacked her world. Apparently, the technology used wasn't quite stable, and left her suspended between worlds for decades by our reckoning." Mona rambled off the facts as if by rote. She did have shockingly good recall at times. Viktor was well aware of her penchant for painting landscapes from memory. "Now what were you wondering?" And Penny? Her purring suggested she was quite satisfied as well.

Mona couldn't help but break into a big smile as this totally random passerby waved at her. She waved back. Once the heroine was on her way, Mona tucked away her phone and looked around. Her mood was a good one initially. Now though...there was a certain lightness to the moment. Happiness came in those moments. "Swift journeys and safe flights. May we meet again soon," she muttered to herself. With that the giantess jogged down the streets of her old stomping ground.

Fulcrum 21 post = 2 pp A New Enterprise (8) Approaching Tremors (2) Contest of Centurions (1) Everybody Make a Scene (5) Midair Conversations (2) Scene: Fulcrum and Miracle Girl (1) Way Back Home (2) Extra-curriculars: 1 pp The Interview (1) Notes:

Mona glanced toward the university and nodded. "I understand. I wish you well in all of your endeavors. A pleasure to meet you too." "Before you go," at that she pulled out her cellphone and turned the screen to Rossignol, "here is my contact information. Please let me know if you need anything, or just want to talk." Knowing how private heroes can be, she didn't ask to trade contacts. If Rossignol was interested, she would make herself known. "Good to have you here."

Mona stretched out one long arm and ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke. The gesture was at once soothing and affectionate. She smiled warmly as he spoke. "Much better than expected. I did not run into any of the old gang, but I did also meet two heroines with similar power sets to my own. A Triakosia and Miracle Girl. We had an impromptu chat above Sentry Statue. Which is why apple turnovers aren't included among the selection." Mona took a long sip of tea before continuing. Amusingly, her Freedonian accent began re-emerging. "Both were quite friendly and gave me the lowdown on the local scene. Plus Triakosia is from Centurion's dimension to boot! I tried not to be slip too far into fangirl mode, let me tell you." Speaking of fangirls, a familiar patter of feet echoed from the shadows. Well, "patter" was a strong word. This particular quadruped was still adjusting to her increased mass. Which is why the couch suddenly tipped backs several inches as a giant Siamese mix scrambled over the top. "Your biggest fan arrives," mused Mona. Penny, creamed-colored body and gray limbs, turned her blue eyes on Viktor, meowed loudly, and plopped unceremoniously on Viktor's lap. All 60 lbs of her. Followed by a burst of motor-like purring and stretching. A clear signal of You may pet me now. Mona turned her attention back to her partner, and squeezed his hand. "I'm happier every time I hear that, sweetie. And I'll say it again: you were so very brave meeting Aquaria. Yes, even with the fainting."

"My pleasure, Dancia." To emphasize the point, Fulcrum held the box open and let them have at the turnovers. Or bits of tasty turnovers in any event. Dancia's comment caught her attention however. She cocked her head slightly and examined the costume again. Mona's face passed through a series of emotions: surprise, wonder, and finally intrigue. "Okay, now my curiosity has the better of me. Same sources, unit you served in. May I know more please?" Obviously, Dancia had her full and undivided attention!

The OOC thread for here.

Wednesday, June 19th, 2019, 10:30 pm The abode of Mona Teymourian, near the Waterfront "She was adorable, Viktor," drifted from the kitchen area. "I know she wouldn't want to be described as such, but she was. The third heroine to wear the name Rossignol! A very sweet young woman, obviously quite skilled, but still finding her bearings. I wished her the very best and gave her my contact information." Mona was unusually chatty, even gregarious. Viktor's arrival seemed to complete her day, and she was eager to recount the highlights. So after a quick kiss, she regaled him with the latest happenings while unpacking groceries. "Do you want something to drink? I picked up some of that white tea you seemed to like." One mock glare later and she started an electric kettle. "Also some Black Death coffee, pomegranate kombucha, and a lovely micro-brew stout. A bit light on snacks at the moment. Some brie?" The sounds of activity reverberated through the high-ceiling building. The space was big, certainly, with metal beams and rows of high, paneled windows above exposed brick. Perhaps, oh, a quarter had been converted into an open living space with a kitchen, adjacent seating area, curtained-off bedroom, and bath. The rest was devoted to her studio. Ghostly shapes of dust-clothed sculptures floated in the dim lights. Her workstation, an explosion of bright colors, seemed to glow through the murk. Even after months away, the place smelled of oil paint and stone dust. Mona had been very proud of her handiwork. From a tour now many years ago, the fixtures and furnishings were secondhand or recycled, and Mona had bartered or DIY-ed much of the renovation. The original purpose, an ice warehouse, was abundantly clear from the Linden's Ice sign on the wall. The foundation and roof work were her doing, and superhuman strength proved a great boon in that regard. The crumbling antique had been picked up for a song. She had rather sheepishly admitted to being quite broke at the time. The way her eyes lit up here, in this place, spoke volumes. The expression was much the same when seeing Viktor after a long absence. As for now though, Mona deposited a tray of goodies on the coffee table. The little table was surrounded by a sofa and two armchairs. One chair stood out a bit: high-backed, Mona-sized, and eye-searingly pink. This one she drifted into tea cup in hand. "Damn, it's good to be home. How was your trip?"

Mona smiled warmly. "And that is why you are Rossignol III. Inventive and crafty." Her mood darkened as Rossignol laid out the particulars. "Very slick indeed. Sounds like someone with a lot of experience. They can use local underworld connections as proxies. That minimizes their exposure while still delivering the goods. The locals probably have no idea who they are really dealing with." She started to add something, stopped, then spoke. "Unfortunately, I do not speak French. I speak German if that is at all helpful. Or at least not insulting."

Mona leaned sideways slightly to see the sword better. She nodded, obviously impressed. "Quite a blade. Practical and effective I imagine." Straightening up, she added, "Do you have trick arrows? I mean you could hypothetically build all sorts of fun accessories!" "A weapons dealer out there? Interesting..." She was lost in thought a moment, watching the clouds drift slowly overhead. "I would think them knowing someone is investigating would be good. In a sense. You could pick out their previous behaviors and movements, and hopefully, lure them into making a mistake. Again this is coming from someone whose secret fighting technique is 'punch them again'. But for what it's worth, I will help out any way I can."

Triakosia was offered the same enormous hand and consequent shake. "Very pleased to meet you as well!" The turnovers were accordingly, offered to Triakosia. Mona grinned at the heat vision trick. Then she offered up turnover pieces in her palm. "After you, Casey." As her turnover received super-powered heating, she turned her attention back to Triakosia, "I hear that a lot actually. I'm not as bulky as some my height. So people tend to underestimate. Sometimes by a foot or more." The turnovers were delicious, and Mona slowly chewed her perfectly heated bite while looking back and forth at the two paragons. "Okay, before we go any further, I just have to say this. You both have amazing looks!"

"What drew you to the bow then? If I may ask." As to the second point, her face turned more solemn. "I wish you the best in that regard then. That's way outside of my capability. Giant robots, sure. Organized crime? I'm clueless. I have a feeling though that organized crime is a much bigger problem than we know. Any luck so far?" Her gaze turned again to the neighborhood. The early evening chill was settling, and the streets seemed unusually quiet in the twilight. "And you've heard of Jack? Anything scandalous?" She shook her head. "I kid. I kid." "Although he may know of underworld things...," she added after a moment.

ARCHIMEDES'd by Fox Time to big update Fulcrum! This is more-or-less what I want crunch wise. I'm still working on the fluff. May I have these changes please? Changelog: 8 + 6 + 0 + 2 + -5 + 10 = 21 pp Drawback: -7 pp to -5 pp 23/23 pp spent 246/246 pp total Abilities: 8 pp 2 pp: +2 Intelligence (to 16) 4 pp: +4 Wisdom (to 18) 2 pp: +2 Charisma (to 16) Fulcrum's mentals were always a bit low. The intervening years have allowed her to develop intellectually as her superhuman body matured. Plus, frankly, she has learned a great deal. Combat: 6 pp 2 pp: +1 rank Base Attack 4 pp: +2 ranks Defense Relying a little less on combat feats. Skills: 2 pp (+18 ranks – 10 ranks = 8 ranks) +2 ranks Craft (Artistic) (to 10 (+13)) +2 ranks Diplomacy (10 (+13)) +9 ranks Intimidate (to 15 (+20, +2 Growth)) +1 rank Knowledge (Art) (to 7 (+10)) -4 ranks Knowledge (Business) -6 ranks Knowledge (Pop Culture) +2 ranks Notice (to 10 (+14) +2 ranks Sense Motive (to 10 (+14)) General upgrade and clean up of her skills. Business and Pop Culture didn't really come up and were redundant with Eidetic Memory. The rest represent continued refinement of her existing skill sets. Feats: -5 pp (-1 pp Veteran Reward) -1 pp: remove 1 rank Attack Focus -2 pp: remove 2 ranks Attack Specialization (Heat Vision) -2 pp: remove 2 ranks Dodge Focus -1 pp: remove 1 rank Equipment (5 EP Veteran Reward), Equipment 0 remains Shifted some points into Combat making some Attack and Dodge Focus redundant. Dropped the Heat Vision all together as it did not fit her. The Veteran Reward Equipment rank represented Interceptors Shared Equipment. She no longer has access to said gear. Nonetheless, if the rank is needed, I am happy to contribute it. Powers: -1 + 5 + 2 + -5 + 4 + 5 = 10 -1 pp: remove Feature 1 (Teleport Beacon) 5 pp: add 5 ranks Impervious Toughness 2 pp: add Power Feats: Persistent, Regrowth on Regeneration -5 pp: remove Super Senses 5 4 pp: add Super-Strength 1 (PF: Countering Punch, Freeze Breath) 5 pp: add 3 ranks Terminus Array (11 to 14): +6 pp Array -1 pp Healing -2 Immovable +2 pp Penetrating = 5 pp Remove Healing Remove Immovable/Unstoppable Remove Power Feats: Countering Punch, Freeze Breath, Heat Vision, Shockwave from Super Strength Add DAP: Penetrating (Unarmed) (Extra: Vampiric +1) Alternate powers increased to appropriate ranks. I've really had to hone in what I wanted from Fulcrum. Before I used a grab-bag approach from the paragon archetype. Finally, the solution came to me. Fulcrum is a no-nonsense melee paragon: no Heat Vision, no Super Senses, just raw close-range POW. She takes big hits and dishes them right back out. I could still see her stunting a Blast of some sort. Likely this would be quite draining and rarely attempted, hence the Extra Effort. The Feature is a remnant from her days as an Interceptor. Healing has been swapped out for Vampiric Penetrating keyed to her strength. This combo was inspired by Geez3r's work on nigh-unstoppable characters. The idea was that the vampiric would keep them in the fight for long periods. As for the combo, Fulcrum focuses her Terminus energy such that she can disrupt and consume barriers with her bare hands. Much like how her metabolism slowly consumes matter and energy. Drawbacks: -5 pp Weakness (Energy absorbed by daka crystals, Frequency: Uncommon -1, Intensity: Moderate -1, -1 Dexterity per minute -3) [-5PP] I love the Daka Crystal weakness. The mechanics, however, never really gelled for me. Shaen suggested many a moon ago to note that her Healing wouldn't work on the Con drain. Still I felt like it was missing something. That's when I read the Beast of Kilimanjaro. Its weakness was perfect and fit Fulcrum's flavor very well! She's essentially the Tin Man. Drain energy from her and she becomes sluggish. Drain enough energy and she locks up. Honestly? This weakness is one of the few things that scares her. She's still conscious even as a statue. And in a Beast-esque prison, she could be trapped there a long, long time. I hope everything is copacetic. Thank you for the big update!

Mona leaned against the nearest wall and continued. "World War II huh? I will have to look into her then. Does that make you Rossignol III?" "Small-time capers are how most heroes start. It's standard, bread-and-butter work." She swept a hand in front her, indicating the neighborhood. "And as far as I'm concerned, just as important." As if to emphasize the point, a silhouetted figure in a third-floor window waved down to them. Fulcrum pointed out the person to Rossignol before waving back. "But I'm sure you already know that. Sounds like you have a good pedigree." Silence reigned for a moment. Mona tapped her jaw in thought. Quietly, she addressed Rossignol's question. "I was. The Interceptors are, as the name implies, a rapid-response team. A small team generally, with a rotating roster. They are still active as far as I know. If you're interested, I would ask around. You'll likely have a moonlight visit from Jack of All Blades or Jill O'Cure."

"A pleasure to meet you." Left unspoken was question of her name. But she didn't pry. Heroes had many and varied motivations. "I am. I started here back in 2009. Although I've been more of a... traveler... since 2014 or so. Ran with the Interceptors out of here. Good people." She pondered whether to direct Rossignol to a certain self-defense school in the neighborhood. Given the tensions between her and the core Interceptors over the last years, she put that thought aside for the moment. Instead she turned back to Rossignol and focused on her last sentence. "Operated in the area? Is your grandmother a heroine? What is her name? Now you're piqued my interest," she said while sporting a big smile.

For a moment, Mona worried if she had really upset the heroine. This especially after having a moment to look her over. The meditative flyer had a good look. In fact Mona went so far as to say a darn good look. But something about her just felt off. Like an old memory tickling at the back of her mind. The feeling wasn't bad, per say, just linked to some other, forgotten feeling. Obviously, she hadn't met this person before... Fulcrum cocked her head and anticipated Triakosia's reaction. Which meant she was bit off-put when another flyer arrived. The expression on her face cycled through surprise to curiosity to pleasure. A bakery box appeared from her purse. "I can only speak for myself, but the more the merrier." She floated over to Miracle Girl and offered an oversized handshake. "I'm Fulcrum. Or Mona. Either works. A pleasure to meet you." The box was then opened...only to reveal the sad remains of golden pastries. Her smile faltered. "Eh...they were apple turnovers. Well! They're finger food now. Help yourself."

Fulcrum squinted as she neared the statue. Yes, that was definitely a person. Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to slow down. The abrupt outburst motivated her though. The streak materialized into a giant woman in a white bodysuit. Her gold bracelets, belt and anklets gleamed in the afternoon sun. The instantaneous stop didn't affect her wake however. A gust blasted around her and washed over Triakosia and the statue's face. The flyer herself clutched a white purse as her long braid whipped in front of her. Distance wise, she hovered maybe 50 feet from Triakosia. Judging from her size and the blue triangle and lever symbol emblazoned across her chest, this was probably Fulcrum: local heroine, former Interceptor, visual artist, and as of 2014, self-outed pseudo-Terminus baby and stalwart advocate for their rights. Not much seen in costume the last few years. At least around Freedom City. Her hair now under control, she smiled. "Oops! Sorry!" After a throaty chuckle, "I'm sorry to hear about your day. Maybe a pastry would brighten it?" She patted the purse.

Fulcrum chuckled and knelt down. The action seemed habitual and brought her to more-or-less eye level to Rossignol. "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Honestly, I was wondering if there was a fire. West End has had its share of fires, suspicious or otherwise, over the years." She tapped her chin in thought for a moment. Turning her attention presently, a large hand was offered in greeting. "And no, I'm not a rampaging monster. Although I can understand your concern. My name is Fulcrum, but most people here call me Mona." The name may have sounded familiar. Fulcrum was a local heroine out of West End. Worked solo and as a member of The Interceptors, the native team of the neighborhood. Though she dropped off the radar several years back. Some say due to focus on her career as an artist (given a secret identity was impractical) or her advocacy for Terminus-baby rights. At Rossignol's bow trick, she nodded. "Impressive!"

Fulcrum skidded to a halt well short of 30 feet. Rather light on her feet for her size. She stood there blinking momentarily, brows raised in surprise. Then she looked around the empty streets and back to Rossignol. "Excuse me as well, madam. We nearly had quite the crash." The response was diplomatic but kindly. "If I may ask, where are you headed to in such a hurry?" Her eyes scanned the streets more carefully. "Fire?" The big woman was obviously assessing this new person. Perhaps not so much sizing up as for tells of intent. As for herself, she seemed relaxed and curious about this new person.

Fulcrum 15 posts = 15 posts = 2 pp A New Enterprise (2) Approaching Tremors (8) Midair Conversations (5)