Dariusprime

"She is a real beauty, Captain," commented Officer Stanton nonchalantly. Sitting in the passenger seat, Stanton watched the afternoon sunlight gleam off the polished STAR Squad truck. He stretched his arms and put them behind his head, "Comfortable seats too. Must have cost the department a fortune, considering all the high-tech goodies you requisitioned." "Don't even think about putting your boots up there," the Captain in question pre-empted to his subordinate. As Stanton settled back reluctantly, Bill "Bulldog" Maddicks smirked, beamed with pride at his new baby and looked up at the red light. As far as he was concerned, the signals downtown seemed to last ages, and the annoyance thereof was evidenced by his expression. He past the time enjoying the new car smell and rubbing off a smudge on the windshield. Officer Stanton opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a green SUV zoomed through the intersection. Obviously this was something strange, judging the speed, strange streak-like aura tailing it and the fact that the roof was missing. Strange too was it's exaggerated swerving, like the driver was about to roll the thing. "Holy...!" was all the junior officer managed. The big SUV clipped the big truck and pushed it a good two feet sideways. Plastic crunched and metal dented as the fleeing vehicle scraped itself along the front. Stanton glanced slack jawed at the SUV and leaned out the broken passenger window to the smashed bumper, fender and headlight. Bulldog Maddicks sat at the wheel, his body frozen in place and staring blankly ahead. He blinked a couple of times and the toothpick dropped out of his mouth. Without missing a beat, he spoke calmly, "Call in that we are joining the pursuit."

"Why would this be considered a variant Turing test then? After all this is a radio show, not any sort of controlled scientific experiment," said the caller, "Plus how would you define intelligent behavior? How would you define a transition from appearing to think to actual thinking? Sounds as if the test is as much based on cultural bias and the intelligence of the observer. 'Fool me once' as I've heard." After another quiet chuckle, she added, "I wonder how many humans would fail the test." Whimsy echoed in her voice.

You may earn some real super powers after all, Doc. Icky ones...but...well, yeah, get well soon. :)

Gathering some distance, the high-tech gangsters breathed a sigh of relief. Soon the giant disappeared among the cars and traffic lights. Over the roar of wind, Mr. Gray yelled to Red, "Great thinking, Ty! Those supers are always saps for crap like that!" Red just shrugged, a hateful smirk on his face and laughed. Soon Mr. Gray started up, and finally the more cautious members, Green and Blue joined in the villainous laughter. They made a good go of the classic evil cackle too. Red picked up a bag that had come untied, pulled out a stack of 100 dollar bills and kissed it. Dancing in his seat was the only way to describe the gray-suited man. Their moods changed rapidly as did their luck. First, a bolt of electricity arced across the car's frame. Secondly, before they could respond, the car nearly rolled as they swerved around a bus in an intersection. Mr. Gray just barely corrected as two tires left pavement, but still scrapped his side against a delivery truck at the stop. The console screen lit up with flashing yellow and red lights. "Ah no! The inertial dampeners are overheating! We'll have to shut it down soon! How far are we from the bridge?" "Not far! If we can hit the bridge, we won't have to worry about the things. I thought they said this thing was rated for hours!" "It is, but the dampeners aren't made for city traffic. I told you not to plan this thing during the lunch rush!" Red just glared at him. Meanwhile, Fulcrum was far from out of the game. Up into the sky she flew above the buildings of downtown Freedom City. The car was difficult to track, or would have been, if not for the exaggerated tail left in its wake. Seeing them heading for the Pramas Bridge caused her to frown. Even with the traffic, Pramas had a wide sidewalk...

Alrighty. Rat and Angel are up right? Lets kick some demon.

A teasing laugh echoed over the line, "I'm not sure if it is too mainstream or not, but would you play Orbital's 'Halcyon' please? I'd prefer the original 11 minute version over '+ on + on' if you can find it. The whole song has such a relaxing vibe to it. Thanks." The caller went quiet for a moment, and the cat's purring continued, "And I just have to ask, why is your program named 'The Turing Test'? Is it some sort of inside science joke for the peps over at HIT?"

Thanks. No, a specific date shouldn't be a problem.

Fulcrum knew the time had come without even looking at the barrier. The flicker of light alerted her, but the look on Phantom's face told her everything she needed to know. As the others readied themselves, Fulcrum stood up full and straight and turned to face the horde. Calmly she replaced her gloves and flexed her sore hands. Vaguely she heard the others, particularly Ace, rallying the troops and she felt somehow lightened. She wasn't good with words. She would lead by example. The barrier came down and her heart skipped a beat. The wave of supernatural horror washed over her. She stared ahead unflinchingly, fists at her side and cape waving. All the trauma of the day flashed before her eyes. The screams of the dying and the howls of the monsters. Sinister red eyes mocking her. The longest moments lingered on her family and friends, all missing or dead in this place of ruin. No way out. Nothing holding her back. She finally gave light to a recessed part of her personality that she worked hard to master. The part of her psyche that not only enjoyed fighting but reveled in the sheer carnage and destruction. The side she likened to Omega. A relentless ambition for victory or death. All that fear and horror and terror she had numbed herself toward was transferred into pure will. If the end of the world was nigh, she was going to fight the long defeat her way. Her expression set in iron, Fulcrum took off at an angle and slowly gained speed as she ascended. As the infinite hordes lay stretched before her, she spoke softly, "So this is how he felt." Black dust specks coalesced into flying monstrosities. She leveled off, accelerated and slammed into the first wave, disappearing into the sheer numbers. Alone there in the dark, she drew them to her and crushed bone, dismembered limbs and tore flesh with her bare hands. Mauled corpses rained out of the sky like black snowflakes. Dark Star said the toughest should go up front. Sounded like a good idea.

Will vs Fear (1d20:10+8=18) Alrighty "If you're going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill

Fulcrum Bailing Out First National By All Your Powers Combined Fisticuffs Fundraiser! Invasion! - Danger Mansion Invasion! - Pramas Bridge Painting the Town The Turing Test Shoggoth on the Roof

Lashawn Kevanport read his text message and smiled. Brianna always had a way of cheering him up. Today he had a lovely surprise for her. For maybe the hundredth time, he pulled out the ring case and gazed at the gray velvet. He bit his lip as doubt crept into his head once more. Then he nodded to himself and pocketed the box. A late lunch today and their lives would be changed forever. The sun darkened overhead. Lashawn looked up to the sight of a car's undercarriage hurtling toward him. In that moment everything was silent. The car fell in slow motion. He didn't even say goodbye to Brianna. He swore he could hear Granny Kevanport's voice calling to him. He felt at peace. The car didn't crush him. A streak of blue and gold flashed out of nowhere. The thousand pound bullet flew over his head, and he couldn't help but watch its mad flight. By the time his wits returned to him, the woman responsible for saving five lives was gone. "Was...was that Centurion?" Lashawn grinned and shook his head, "No, but does it matter?"

I'm here and I know Semi-Autogyro is around here somewhere. The sneaky...

I know the Mastermind's Manual has several styles, including Muay Thai. But of course now that I need the book I can't find it...

The sci-fied four door zoomed through the city streets. Weaving through congestion, reckless driving became the least of their problems. Running lights, jumping the curb, nearly running down pedestrians, causing wrecks, these guys seemed willing to do anything to escape. Just how far became quickly apparent. Fulcrum had one distinct advantage over the villains: flight. While they still had a maze to navigate, the hero simply flew above the stampede. Still the sheer speed of the vehicle kept it just ahead of her despite the obstacles. She threw everything she had into her flying, and looked ahead for any open streets. An open stretch of road would be a problem. Descending on her unsuspecting victim, Fulcrum went with an upper cut against the SUV's roof. Off the roof came with a satisfying crunch. Glass and metal shards sprayed over the gangsters and tingled onto the streets. Blue and Green sat there slack jawed. Mr. Gray looked just a little nervous. Maybe it was the sweat beading on his forehead. Red though had everything covered. Instead of firing at Fulcrum, he turned the gun on the car beside them. Squealing tires signaled big trouble. The car veered out of control toward a bus stop full of pedestrians!

(18:52:28) ChatBot: Dariusprime rolls 1d20 and gets 9. Attack +8 vs SUV Defense 8. Hit. (18:52:50) ChatBot: Dariusprime rolls 1d20 and gets 6. SUV Toughness +9 vs DC 27. Disabled.

Not sure if it would be GMing or not, but I have an idea for another caller. The topic would be a lead in to my Green Man story. Interested?

A few songs into the first hour, a call comes into the program. The caller sounds like a woman in her 20s or 30s, and unlike the more unusual callers, sounds like she is both sober and grounded in reality. Her voice is mellow and contemplative. A tonal buzzing in the background suggests a cat's purr. "Hi, is this the Turing Test? I would like to make a request please." This one could be interesting.

Sounds like fun! Fulcrum will call. Sounds like her kind of program, and super heroes keep weird hours anyway. Not sure if Elektron would be interested in a walk in the park, but my first intro thread is Painting the Town. Similar low-key rp. She is just enjoying the morning and painting.

"Its a super!" Blue and Green leaned out the back windows, "And she's a big one!" "Shoot her you idiots!" growled Mr. Gray. A touch screen popped up from the console and the masked robber tapped in commands. His two buddies looked at each other hesitantly. Soon two chromed 'blaster' weapons sounded simultaneously. One blue bolt went wide, blasting a light pole, but the second found its mark against Fulcrum's shoulder. As the hero reeled back, the SUV shuddered amid a high-pitched charging noise. Then it was off! Only a Tron-like streak remained as the getaway car zoomed into the distance, zipping around obstacles like they were standing still. One perfect 90 degree turn and they were gone. Fulcrum blinked and looked down at the bumper in her hands. "Hmm..." Stretching her shoulder, Fulcrum smirked and took off after the crooks. The chase was on through the narrow streets of downtown!

I had a feeling it wouldn't, but I can dream. ;)

November 28, 2009 Just after lunch, history decided to repeat itself. In 1938, Centurion foiled a robbery of First National Bank in downtown Freedom City. 71 years later, the hero Fulcrum followed in her hero's footsteps in Bailing Out First National!

This is a solo thread for Fulcrum based on Centurion/Superman's first appearance. Centurion stopped a robbery at First National Bank, and I thought it appropriate to do the same. History repeats itself, yes? I'm still working my Green Man story though!

28 Nov 2009, 1:35 pm If pressed on the issue, one of Fulcrum's favorite activities was flying. Just flying for the sure joy of it. Feeling the wind whipping through her air and cool of evening on her skin. Plus it served the dual purpose of surveying the city for problems. Which meant that this fine evening, she was diving and barrel rolling while looking across the rooftops of downtown. Everything seemed quiet enough. Until a little something came over the scanner. All units be advised: 211 in progress at First National Bank. Suspects dressed in stripped suits and masks. Considered armed and dangerous. "First National?" Fulcrum hovered in mid air and looked around, "Where the heck is First National?" As if answering her question, a shot rang out directly below her. Glass shattered outward from the bank's window. Four men in pin-stripped suits reminiscent of '30s gangsters stormed from the stone-fronted entrance, waving around futuristic weapons. Each wore a different color, blue, red, green or gray, and a mask portraying a movie mafioso. The quartet raced for a SUV, three of them leaping inside with sacks of money. Mr. Gray stopped at the driver's door, firing his rifle at an approaching patrol car. The shot sounded like the pop of a normal rifle, but the blue bolt of energy sure was something else. The police cruiser flipped onto its side, the front tire and wheel well blasted to bits. The man laughed, hopped inside and fired it up. Fulcrum scowled and dived straight down toward the getaway vehicle. "Come on, lets go!" "No problem." Mr. Gray chuckled, his voice full of confidence. He hit the gas...and the car didn't move. Instead the back end lifted into the air. "Hello, boys."

Fists out before her, Fulcrum swooped into battle. Her cape flapped wildly as she leveled from the dive and cocked back a powerful right. Making the decision was the moment of hesitation, but now made, she committed herself completely to the struggle. Inflicting pain was only part of the equation. Dealing with your own pain was the greater portion of the battle. Let the old pain come. "Freedom is worth the fight," she intoned unconsciously. Before the little beast was aware, several hundred pounds of muscle rocketed into its face and threw all that energy into a wild hook. Either it was quick enough to dodge or it's ugly little head was coming off. Either way she was hoping to take some of the heat off the hero in the airship. Game on.

Charge attack against flying monkey demon (1d20+10=12) If I hit it, the Toughness is DC 27. :)