Raveled

Robin rubbed at her nose; all these overlapping auras were giving her something not unlike hay-fever. Still, if she was here to network she needed to talk to people. With that in mind she walked up to Dead Head, giving the zombie a small nod, one professional to another. "I didn't expect to see you here," she admitted. "The rest of the city's dead resting soundly?"

"I'll be alright," Robin assured him, ignoring the question of where her attention had been. She wasn't eager to explain it, not until she had a chance to do some research. She wasn't even sure she could explain it to a mundane. Instead she glanced around at the beach and the boardwalk above them. There was no nasty fog, and if they were getting some weird looks, none of the bystanders twigged as demonic to her enhanced sight. The sorceress smiled a tight, private little smile, and pushed away from Wesley; she wobbled a bit, but stayed upright. Robin turned and started walking up off the beach, moving slowly and using her staff to help. "This was pretty interesting, Wesley," she said, "but I think next time we should just hit the movies."

O.O Um... Whu, what PL is this?

Power Level: 8 Trade-Offs: +3 Att/-3 Dam, +3 Def/-3 Tough In Brief: A new generation of an old villain Alternate Identities: Mikaela Reeves-nee-Rivers Identity: Public Birthplace: The Fens Occupation: Professional anarchist Affiliations: Criminals Family: None Age: 32 Apparent Age: 32 Gender: Female Ethnicity: ??? Height: 5' 4" Weight: 140 lbs Eyes: Green Hair: Black Description: Mikaela is a slim young woman of indeterminate ethnicity, with mocha stick, straight dark hair pulled back in a queue, and piercing green eyes. She’s not over muscled but she is well-toned. She usually wears cast-off clothes, mostly jeans, layers of tee-shirts, and dirty tennis shoes. While she is competent, even deadly, in hand-to-hand, she’s also been seen using a variety of firearms and explosives; usually shotguns and revolvers, things that can go for awhile without maintenance. History: Mikaela Rivers grew up in the Fens, before the neighborhood was cleaned up. Living surrounded by moral decay was tough, but Mikaela tried kept to the straight and narrow. She really did try her best to live a good, quiet life – but when her best friend was killed, gunned down in a fight that didn’t have anything to do with her, Mikaela just couldn’t sit on the sidelines anymore. She started striking out at the criminals in the Fens any way she could, and she experienced a kind of success. The big crime families retreated to wait out the storm, and the local gangs halted all but their most necessary money-making schemes in order to focus on this new threat. Mikaela didn’t know when to stop, though. She started killing people, and attracted the attention of Freedom City’s proper heroes. In the long run the vigilante was small fry and quickly apprehended. In prison, she ended up in a cell with one of the few remaining converts of the old Conqueror Worms, one of the original Raven’s nemeses. Mikaela was in a pretty bleak place, and the Worm’s black and white philosophy and promise of Old Testament judgments seemed to make sense. Mikaela bided her time, training and studying. When the Grue attacked the city, she seized the opportunity and broke out, going to ground in the city’s twisting, labyrinthine sewer system. Months passed. Rumors started to circulate that the Conqueror Worm had returned – that he’d come back to life, that he’d never really died in the first place, that one of the Worm’s (many) illegitimate children was taking up where Daddy left off. Eventually Mikaela reappeared, having taken the surname Reeves and the sobriquet of the Conqueror Worm. Can this new generation succeed in destroying the world? Only time can tell. Personality & Motivation: Mikaela Reeves is a dyed-in-the-wool fanatic. She believes that the modern world is corrupt, decadent, and sinful, and that every effort must be made to cleanse it and return the world to a purer state. Similarly, everyone who lives in and profits from the corruption must be cleansed or eliminated. This goes double for any so-called hero who tries to defend the world, especially those who are products of it! Mikaela is easy enough to classify as an anarchist: she wants to see the whole world burn. But she’s not to type to mail a letter-bomb to the mayor. She’d more subtle, more tactical in her approach, than that. She prefers targets that will cause a maximum of chaos with a minimum of effort – utilities, emergency services, rail line and airports are all fair game. Powers & Tactics: Mikaela has no explicit powers, just training and fanaticism. She rarely mounts an attack without a firm goal in mind, and has no problem fighting dirty or even taking hostages. When she needs to cover her escape, she tends to sacrifice her followers to ensure her escape. Complications: Hatred (Superheroes) Abilities: 10+6+10+4+8+12 = 50pp Str 20 (+5) Dex 16 (+3) Con 20 (+5) Int 14 (+2) Wis 18 (+4) Cha 22 (+6) Combat: 22+12 = 34pp Initiative: +15 Attack: +11 (+12 Ranged) Grapple: +16 Defense: +11 (+6 Base, +5 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -2 Saving Throws: 3+8+8 = 19pp Toughness: +5 (+5 Con, +0 [Other]) Fortitude: +8 (+5 Con, +3) Reflex: +11 (+3 Dex, +8) Will: +12 (+4 Wis, +8) Skills: 132r = 33pp Bluff 13 (+19) Craft (Chemicals) 8 (+10) Diplomacy 13 (+19) Disguise 6 (+12) Gather Information 13 (+19) Intimidate 13 (+19) Knowledge (Streetwise) 10 (+12) Knowledge (Tactics) 10 (+12) Knowledge (Theology & Philosophy) 13 (+15) Notice 10 (+14) Sense Motive 13 (+17) Stealth 10 (+13) Feats: 30PP Assessment Attack Focus (Ranged) Blind-Fight Contacts Connected Dodge Focus 5 Equipment 5 (25EP) Fascinate (Diplomacy) Improved Initiative 3 Master Plan 2 Minions 7 (The Night Crawlers, 50 thugs, 30PP) Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Gather Information, Intimidate) Well-Informed DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC20 Toughness (Staged) Damage Heavy Pistol Ranged DC19 Toughness (Staged) Damage Shotgun Touch/Area DC20 Toughness (Staged) Damage Abilities (50) + Combat (34) + Saving Throws (19) + Skills (33) + Feats (30) + Powers (0) - Drawbacks (0) = 166 Power Points

Power Level: 10 (189 PP) Trade-Offs: +3 Def/-3 Toughness In Brief: An old villain, revitalized and returned to the fray. Alternate Identities: Samantha Cline Identity: Public Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Professional Criminal Affiliations: Criminals Family: None Age: 65 Apparent Age: 30s Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5' 2" Weight: 120 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Blonde Description:Back in the day Samantha Cline was a beauty; short, curvaceous, with a mass of blonde curls that drew eyes from across the room. Time stole her beauty as it dulled her mind, but her mysterious rejuvenations seems to have restored the former if not the latter. Samantha is still a well-formed woman, with surprisingly slender limbs and a soft, heart-shaped face. Her features are dominated by two large bug eyes, black and multi-faceted. Her shoulders, elbows, and knees are all thick with extra bone, pushing up against her skin from underneath. The flesh on the undersides of her wrists are paler than the rest of her body, a dead fish-belly color. Four iridescent fly wings sprout from her back. Her costume isn’t much changed from the old days. She still prefers wide strips of dark green, covering just enough of her body for decency’s sake. Power Descriptions: Luna Moth can exude pheromones that can alter a person's emotional state, as well as shoot a sticky webbing from her fingers and fly. She's also much stronger than she was back in the day. History: 1Samantha Cline always knew from a young age that she was destined for greatness. She was so much better looking than the other women, so obviously she wasn’t meant to live such a mundane, grubby life. She got a low-level job as ASTRO labs in the 1960s and started looking for a rich, handsome scientist to marry, but found very few contenders. She despaired of ever finding a man who met her (admittedly high) standards, until Professor Elias P. Stickney took her into his confidences and revealed his masterpiece: a machine that could mimic human pheromones and potentially control people’s actions. Tragically, Professor Stickney’s excitement at impressing the sweet Samantha aggravated his heart condition and he died right there in his lab. Samantha was quick to grab the opportunity and the machine, though, gathering up a few more goodies from the building before taking off to a life of crime. At first her targets were predictably material – money, jewels, furs, almost anything her heart desired. After a time, though, wealth lost its glamour, but she never tired of playing with men’s emotions. She particularly delighted in taking the rich and powerful, the city’s elite men, and breaking them down until they begged at her feet for her least favor, but her main target and the one could never snare was the Raven, a.k.a. Duncan Summers. Through the 1960s and 70s they battled each other, but Samantha could never ensnare the hero. When Duncan Summers retired, Samantha became unhinged. She began seeing every superhero as the object of her obsession, male or female. She attached them indiscriminately, and it wasn’t long before she was captured and committed to Providence Asylum. There she languished for more than thirty years before agents of the Conqueror Worm – or at least someone claiming that title – came for her. The new Worm had a piece of super-tech and wanted to try it out on the old supervillain. Somehow, the device restored Samantha’s powers to her, and somehow made them a part of her body. It also de-aged her, and changed her appearance to be more like her sobriquet, Luna Moth. The new Conqueror Worm apparently expected Samantha to work for her, but the newly revitalized woman has other ideas. She started arguing with the Worm, and things might’ve turned ugly for her if it wasn’t for the intervention of two of Freedom City’s heroes. The pair focused their attention on the Conqueror Worm and Samantha was able to sneak away in the confusion. Now that she’s back, Samantha’s goals are anyone’s guess. Enough money to live comfortably is a given, and she’ll probably return to playing games with men, but how will she respond to the news that the old Raven is retired – and that the new one is a woman? Personality & Motivation:Samantha Cline is a narcissist, plain and simple. She loves herself, and she loves other people telling her how good she is. With her powers, it isn’t hard for her to build up and maintain a small group of sycophants. However, she quickly tires of the same faces all the time, so there’s a steady turnover in the group. Too, she prefers powerful and wealthy men to common Joes, and superheroes rank the highest of all – forbidden fruit and all that. Samantha rarely reacts well to other woman. At the very least she is dismissive towards them, often mocking their appearance, belittling their opinions, or outright ignoring them. If she sees another woman as a threat to her status as queen bee, she’ll not hesitate to attack them verbally or even physically. Samantha was never the brightest woman around, and the years have not given her reason to exercise her intellect. Her years inside a mental asylum were particularly unkind to her, and she runs more on emotion and instinct than intellect and reason now. Powers & Tactics: Samantha never enters combat without a group of brain-washed thugs if she can avoid it. Her most common tactic is to circle above the battlefield, trying to brainwash the most powerful men in the room and web up the remainders. Complications: Obsession (Wealth, fame) Hatred (The Raven) Abilities: 10+6+6+0+0+14 = 36pp Str 30/20 (+10/+5) Dex 16 (+3) Con 16 (+3) Int 10 (+0) Wis 10 (+0) Cha 30/24 (+10/+7) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32pp Initiative: +11 Attack: +8, +10 Airborne Grapple: +20/+13, +22/+15 Airborne Defense: +10 (+8 Base, +2 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed, +13 Airborne Knockback: -4 Saving Throws: 10 + 6 + 5 = 21pp Toughness: +7/+3 (+3 Con, +4 Protection) Fortitude: +13 (+3 Con, +10) Reflex: +9 (+3 Dex, +6) Will: +5 (+0 Wis, +5) Skills: 60r = 15pp Bluff 15 (+25/+22) Diplomacy 15 (+25/+22) Gather Information 10 (+20/+17) Knowledge (Pop Culture) 10 (+10) Sense Motive 10 (+10) Feats: 11PP Favored Environment (Aerial) 5 Improved Initiative 2 Minions 4 (5 Thugs, 15PP, Fanatical) Powers: 31+10+6+5+4+4 = 60PP Array 15 (30PP, Feats: Alternate Power) [31PP] BE: Emotion Control 10 (Pheromones; Extras: Area/Cloud [General], Alternate Save [Fort]) [30 PP] AP: Snare 10 (Webs;Extra: Contagious) [30 PP] Enhanced Strength 10 [10 PP] Enhanced Charisma 6 [6 PP] Flight 3 (Wings; 50 MPH; Drawback Power Loss [Wings]) [5 PP] Protection 4 [4 PP] Super-Strength 2 [4 PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed --- Touch --- DC 25 Toughness (Staged) --- Damage Emotion Control --- Perception --- DC 20 Fort Snare --- Ranged --- DC 20 Reflex (Staged) --- Entangled Abilities (36) + Combat (32) + Saving Throws (21) + Skills (15) + Feats (11) + Powers (60) - Drawbacks (0) = 175 Power Points 1: Originally to be found in Freedom's Most Wanted, pages 84-5.

The younger man scowled at Dead head. "You're sick," he said to the revenant. The pair of men stood up, pulling the girl to her feet a moment later. "Go to Lincoln if you want a fight, alright? Just don't plan on coming back." The little family unit hustled away, the men careful to keep between Dead HEad and Gina.

(20:40:58) Sandman_XI: or what shaen said (20:41:08) ShaenTheBrain: Goddamned right "what Shaen said."

Mostly just saying "a-ha, I got you." And trying to dissuade him from firebombing it later on, once Robin moves off.

Sam something kinda interesting today. was making a midnight run into the West Side for snacks -- Lantern Hill's a nice neighborhood, which I guess means there isn't a lot of fastfood or take-away. On my way back a dog the size of a city bus (c.f. 'Greyhound') forced my truck off the road. I armored up and went after it. It slowed down to beat on some cop, and I managed to get a couple sots off. It, uh, didn't seem to do much, but some other heroines showed up. One of them had a whole bunch of tentacles sprouting off her and managed to blind the dog, then another one swung a hammer at it. The blow hit at the same time as a lighting strike (out of a clear sky -- clearly related) which pretty much finished the dog-thing off. Then it delivered some kind of ultimatum and -- teleported, maybe? Wasn't there anymore. Talked with the ladies afterwards. The one with the hammer wouldn't even let me hold it or take a small sample. (But see appended notes.) And I think I have a standing invitation to a bar called Morely. Gonna have to go in four years.

KC needs to make a Will save.

"No," she said, "I can stand. I'm just... a little unsteady after everything. I've never come that close to..." She swallowed hard, but stayed upright and vertical. "I'm good." Something caught her eye and she turned to see someone climb out of the sub-way and make a bee-line towards the pair of heroes. Jessica waved at a command hanging in ehr air and her helmet folded around her head again, hiding her face from view; and just as quickly she was Ironclad again. The armored heroine stepped forward, interposing herself between the dead man and the new figure. "Stay back, citizen," she said, the suit's speakers adding an electronic buzz to her words. "This area may not be safe yet. Please wait until police units arrive." but if the man was worried about her personal safety he didn't show it. He marched right up to Ironclad and started poking at her chestplate. "What'd you do to him," he demanded. "You broke him!" Up close it was easy enough to see that this wasn't a normal citizen. He was a head shorter than Ironclad, and his gray woolen overcoat was stiff with dirty and going bald in patches. His eyes were bright and angry, and his face was dominated by a bushy beard speckled with grime. Without waiting for an answer from Ironclad, the vagrant turned on Kid Cthulhu. "You! You did something!" He reached into his coat and pulled out something that looked like a portable cassette player. He pushed a button and brandishes it at the hero, filling the street with discordant tones.

Robin felt herself falling, felt the terror wrapping around her, squeezing her heart. But she wasn’t asleep, and this wasn’t a dream. The sorceress focused her will in a blade and drove it at the voices, slicing through their illusions. They tore like wet paper in a high wind, and as the dark place faded she almost caught a glimpse of what they were. She came to half-leaning against Wesley, pallid and sweating clammily. She gripped his shoulder in one hand and her staff in the other, holding them both tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She was breathing raggedly from the effort of fighting off the seeming, but her eyes tracked over his face properly. She swallowed, feeling her dry throat close up painfully, but after a minute she was able to speak. “I’m fine,†she answered him. “I just… went away for a little bit.†She looked around herself, opening her inner eye just a crack. “What happened?â€

I'm considering another focus, something to focus my magic in a different direction. My power is basically mental, most often changing someone's sensory perceptions. With the right focus, however, my magic could affect the physical world. Telekinesis, basically, and maybe a few other tricks. It's pretty basic stuff, actually; I wonder why I haven't done it before now. Device 9 (Magic; hard to lose; Feat: Restricted; 45 PP) [37 PP] BE: Trip 10 (Magic, telekinesis; Feats: Improved Throw, Alternate Power 1; Extras: Range/Perception, Knockback) [42 PP] AP: Create Object 9 (Magic; Feat: Stationary, Subtle 2, Tether; Extra: Range/Perception, Movable) [40 PP]

Oh, really? Rerolling that Will Save, then. 1d20+8=16 Add ten to that to get 26. Finally something respectable. Have to do something about that woman's saves...

Will Save 1d20+8=11 Do I still have an HP left?

Jessica let herself be lead to the curb again. She took a sip of water from a tube extending out the neck of her armor and spat into the street, trying to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. Her face was even paler than usual, and he fair fell just below her earlobes. She pushed it back from her face with both hands and sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "He was strong, and tough, and he could shoot lightning, but that doesn't narrow the search much in this city. I'd lay money on it being dead a long time, though, so probably some kind of automaton. At least," she added, "I hope it is. I really don't want to have to burn the thing inside a confessional, or whatever it would take to keep some kind of golem down." Jessica was breathing easier, even if she didn't look directly at the hunched over dead thing. It would seem being able to approach the situation with cold logic and reason was helping her deal with it.

Robin shivered as the voice spoke to her. This place was deeply unpleasant, and when the voices sounded it was with a sensation like a cold wing blowing across her soul. The sand underneath her feet wasn't always table, like the bedrock far beneath it was shifting slowly. She kept her extra senses firmly clamped down; she was fairly certain that she didn't want to know who, exactly, was talking. Still, she didn't need to see the speakers to know how to respond. The sorceress stuck her staff in the sand and the spoke in a loud, carrying voice. "Your agreement is void," she declared. "You will not be carrying anyone off without their consent. Not as long as I stand."

Robin had a smile for him when Dead Head finally emerged, thin but with real warmth behind it. She was surprised to see him, though. She understood that this was a gathering of sorcerers, witches, and other such workers of magic. Dead Head obviously had magic, he had it down to his bones, but she didn't consider it the same sort of power that she used. Her ruminations were interrupted when a flood of energy banged the double doors open and filled her head with the scent of fish and dust and sea water. Instinctively she brought her staff up in a horizontal guard, but as the other mystics let their active defenses dissipate she slowly let her staff fall. One end hit the ground and in a moment it was vertical again. When she spoke it was with an edge of irritation in her voice. "Why am I the only one who knows how to use a door?"

The dead man clutched tighter at his head; if he'd been living and blood had been flowing past his knuckles they would've gone white, but they kept their corpse-gray color. The creature's mouth fell open like it was going to scream or moan, but no sound came out. After a moment it stopped rocking in mid-sway, like a robot that had just been shut off. It was overbalanced far to the left, and Ironclad pushed it onto its side easily. The heroine sat down heavily, well outside the dead man's reach, and nodded to KC appreciatively. "Thanks. If you hadn't come along when you did, that could've been... I might've been... Oh god." She felt her gorge rise and waved away her helmet hastily. It folded into her collar and the heroine stumbled into an alley, falling to her hands and knees and vomiting up her all-too-recent lunch.

The two men drew closer to the little girl as Dead Head started talking to them, but after a moment the white guy responded. "Lincoln," he said. "Don't go under the bridge there." The black man nodded. "Should probably find a shelter, or stay at the Church for a few days. S'what we're doing." Gina's mouth turned down into a sulky frown, but she didn't protest. Either she knew that arguing was futile, or else deep down she agreed with the men.

Ironclad's fingers twitches as she typed a silent reply. She muttered under her breath as she did so; the sound wouldn't carry past her helmet, anyway. "Matches pictures of the Worm in his prime. Supposed to have been killed by old Raven, so can't really say who this is." She took a picture of the group in the platform and sent it along with her next text message. "Man in the suit is the one who nabbed the case earlier. Woman looks like Luna Moth -- 'nother old enemy of the Raven. Captured years ago, committed." Ironclad paused, looking over her last few messages. "You're bad for my grammar," she typed.

Frank's Will Save 1d20+5=8 And he fails miserably. :D

Ironclad was listening to her grandfather's summary when an indicator flashed in the corner of her eye; a blue radio tower, rotating slowly and emitting stylized lightning bolts. It indicated an attempted outside connection. She'd never actually seen it before (expect in tests) but the young scientist believed in being prepared. She blink-clicked it, listening to her grandfather's summary with half an ear.

Knowledge (Streetwise)

The OOC for this thread. Both of Mal's GI rolls. 1d20+11=31, 1d20+11=26 Le gasp! A 20!