Fox
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Wraith will use Skill Mastery to auto-26 the Notice check.
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Nocturne Natalia arched an eyebrow clear over the top of her sunglasses. "Cricket," she admonished, "my carefully-maintained mystique is not so fragile. I'm not going to give free answers to the lazy, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't either, but you can do whatever research you please." She shook her head, hair spilling in front of her face a bit as she picked up her bag. "Frankly I'm amazed nobody's done it already. It's hardly a difficult connection to make, and hiding it would be far more trouble than it's worth. Was there anything else you wanted to do, or should we head back?"
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"You do not have to come if you do not want to," Wraith had assured Jessie, resting one hand gently on her shoulder. "We will miss not having you, but the boat is not large - if there is trouble, you could get to us, and we might benefit from having someone out here. If there is too much trouble, perhaps you could simply rip the boat in half to get to us." That last bit was probably a joke, but Wraith had dropped down and skittered into the hole like an overgrown lizard before she could get a response. Three eyes on a face were hard to read even under good conditions. -- "Behind or enabling," mused Wraith. She was on the ceiling, or what passed for one, to make room more than anything else. "Can you be convinced to release the others? Their mission is...impossible. They deserve their rest, as all dead do."
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Nocturne "I think it would have been a fair trade just to see the jerk in charge disgraced," Natalia confirmed, a perfectly normal American accent reasserting itself as her personality iced back over. "I hope the media tears him into tiny pieces." She peered at the vial a moment long before snapping it through the air toward Ryder. "A gift for a gift, then," she said, busying herself with changing back into a more civilian outfit. The gauntlet, and its remaining vial, disappeared into her bag. "It's old and will decay quickly, and there's barely anything left, but Graviton always respected people who could start to figure out what he'd made. Maybe you'll have better luck than the rest." There was a challenge buried somewhere in that, but her pointed eye contact disappeared as she slid her sunglasses on. "If nothing else, maybe it will distract you for a day before you destroy the sample."
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"It would not be difficult to sink the boat," Wraith observed, gently scratching at a metal wall with one claw. This whole place smelled awful, and she was perversely glad that, for once, there were others there with a sense of smell at least as good as her own. "It would be very difficult to unsink the boat, so perhaps we should investigate while those who need air still have it." She cocked her head, growing a fine array of spines that jittered as if tasting the chanting in the air. "....I also vote for finding the spell-person first. They are the most likely reason the dead still walk. Unless we think there is a living person on this ship, those who talk may not be more aware or helpful than the zombie was."
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I think so?
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APPROVED!
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Wraith made a rattling noise somewhere deep in her torso, expressing something akin to mild frustration. "Swimming," she said, frown audible despite the lack of mouth. "Does anyone require assistance reaching their craft? I could - reluctantly - ferry someone across." She made a face, studying the water like it was there to spite her. One clawed foot dug at the sand. "Otherwise, I am inclined to travel underwater. Swimming is hard enough; swimming the surface is entirely unpleasant when not necessary."
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Nocturne Natalia was, for once, completely at a loss for words. She'd only just pulled her hood back and removed her mask, going to put the latter in her bag when she'd encountered the gauntlet instead of what she'd assumed to be some captured debris. She froze, then, before ever-so-gently retrieving the oversized gauntlet and turning it over in her hands to inspect it properly. "....they got his name wrong," she said, the smallest hint of Russian lurking somewhere in the back of her accent as her thoughts went elsewhere. "'Gravi-ton', with a dash, like the pun is a cheap joke that needs explaining. It's a good thing he's in Russia, if he was here he'd have shown up to crush them for the insult. I was wondering if the gauntlet was even real." She reached inside, hand dwarfed by whatever hand should have held such a thing, and touched something; a plate on the back popped open, extending two empty vials. She held one up to the light, something glittering in the nearly-empty glass. "But it is real. I wonder where they got it. ....thank you, Cricket," she said, turning an eye back his way. There was a real sincerity there, uncanny as it might have been coming from Natalia. "This was...thoughtful, and it is better that they don't have it anymore."
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Mostly just little math stuff here: You've listed +3 from Attack Focus (Melee), but you've only bought two ranks of the feat. With +3 Base Defense, Outrider would have +2 Flat-Footed defense, not +3. The Move Object power looks like it breaks combat limits; Accurate 4 would be +8 attack, for +10 total, on a PL7 character. (Accurate is a very limited attack bonus, equivalent to the Attack Specialization feat, so it gives you +2 attack for every rank you buy...but only for the very specific attack(s) you buy it on!) Darkvision makes Low-Light Vision redundant; Low-Light Vision is just a limited version of Darkvision, so you can save a point here to spend elsewhere (possibly on that Attack Focus!).
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Nocturne "He actually is, it's disgusting," confirmed Nocturne. She wasn't far behind Chitin, though she did pause long enough to wave a hand toward a mostly-broken booth; a black bag untangled itself from the wreckage and fell through the air after her as she exited. ---------- At a safe distance and position of probable privacy, Nocturne paused to check her bag and make sure she wasn't missing anything. "Well, Cricket, I never did get to see my promised tank, but all in all I think it was at least an interesting afternoon."
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Nocturne "And nobody will trust you for a while," pointed out Nocturne, who'd been standing somewhat behind Chitin to listen. "You worked with the feds." May shrugged. "I did. They'll forget. Until then, I'll find something tolerable. Your offer's...not nothing, but you seem young for a hiring manager." Nocturne almost suppressed an undignified snorting noise in time. "He could always be secretly rich," she said, instead of whatever thought was trying to betray her. "We really should go, though, Cricket. Tick-tock."
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GM There wasn't a scientific instrument sensitive enough to be sure, but it was entirely possible that May almost cracked the ghost of a corner-of-the-mouth twitch that could have one day become a smile. "I'll take your word for it." She settled back, wincing a bit as she adjusted her leg. "I can't do crime jobs for a while anyway," she said, which still wasn't quite answering the question she'd been asked. "Not without risking too much. They don't let people like me out and then forget about us. I'd really like to not have to get shot again."
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"Yes they would." Dragonfly didn't even look up from her work, though with the helmet obscuring her gaze who could know for sure. She seemed neither enthusiastic nor uncertain about her take on the topic at hand. "They would absolutely shoot an organic agent that they thought would turn. They would maybe hesitate slightly longer." With Irons' head no longer sparking or smoking, she snaked her tools back into her gauntlets and snapped them closed with satisfying mechanical precision. She did not, however, reassemble his head - she assumed they'd need the access later. Or sooner. "Would probably have run the numbers on killing all of us for asking questions, if most of us couldn't wage a one-person war they wouldn't win," she dryly added. "Might have done so anyway. Don't get to where they are without putting mission ahead of...everything. Deeply unhealthy. Recommendation: don't work for governments."
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GM May didn't respond immediately; she'd settled down to sitting on her platform, back against a robot gorilla's forearm with her injured limb flat against the floor in front of her. The corresponding pant leg was lying in a somewhat-bloody pile nearby; the leg itself was competently-bandaged and awaiting professional review. A little pale, more tired than even her default state, but all things considered one could look a lot worse after getting shot. That wasn't why she took a moment to respond, of course - she looked at Chitin, then at Nocturne, then at Chitin, then at his bugs, then at the space between him and his bugs. Then, and only then, did she look back at the hero himself. "A bullet made it through my shield," she said, very deliberately not answering the question as asked. "The trajectory missed arteries, barely touched the bone. I pulled it out myself. I don't expect any real long-term damage, and if I'm lucky I can call in a favor to recover faster. I couldn't have planned it better...if I'd planned it, of course. Which, officially, I didn't, and the shield fried itself so no one can prove otherwise anyway."
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Nocturne Nocturne tilted her head, looking at the small pile of still-breathing bodies Chitin had left in his wake. "Somehow," she said, "I think you would have managed." Somewhere off to the side, a masked gangster made a distressed noise, bereft of an escape route; he caught Nocturne's eye just in time to watch him get clubbed over the head by the loud reporter and a fire extinguisher. "Still, I'm sure you're pleased to have had me along, as you should be. I suppose the police will be here before long," she mused, glancing toward the front doors and the no few civilians who had already pulled their phones out. "You're welcome to stay if you like but I can't recommend it, and I don't plan to myself. If there was anything you were wanting to do before leaving, I'd do it now before security gets back up or the press closes in."
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Dragonfly took a peek at Scarab's technical work, making an approving noise as the video played out. "Could be faked," she admitted, though she didn't sound convinced - not by the hologram, and not by the agents. "In-buffer data manipulation, under duress? Didn't think Keres was good enough at that. Can pretty easily analyze the record later, check for tampering." Don't like it, she sent back over Gina's radio channel. Concerned it must be bad if professional liars are lying badly. What spooks spooks? The armored heroine's tools had set about their work under her careful direction, gently opening Irons' head up for better inspection; she wasn't going to start any operations proper without general consensus, but she could at least start isolating those sparking circuits before they threw electrons somewhere deeply unhelpful. "Assassin droids would help Keres' case, not harm it, anyway. Looks like the same damage to both of them - same kind of damage, anyway. More precise on Irons, Keres took...more hits. Durability difference, maybe. Really should get Irons a better body." She made a noise like a frown, snaking a tool in to stop one of the last wires from being angry at her. "So, supposedly, you chase Keres to a facility he doesn't control, where you all get attacked by drones, and you want us to save Irons but not...save Irons. Not in favor of reactivating Keres, but very curious what his perspective on that conversation is."
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Monkey save: 15! Down he goes. We are out of combat.
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Nocturne The besuited villain was, if nothing else, stubborn - increasingly unfocused, he could be seen flexing against the invisible force of gravity to no avail. "This is just kind of pathetic," Nocturne agreed, striding forward - she put a hand on the man's shoulder, almost gently, but the noise he made was less gentle and more like he was getting squeezed, hair flattening against his body as the ground beneath his foot and knee cracked. And, still, he gave nothing - nothing but a snarling noise, inarticulate and furious as ever. "You know we can keep doing this forever? There's really nothing left for you." The man on the missiles carefully considered Chitin's words and, nodding more to himself than anything, tossed his gun away and made a frantic break for the doors. Who would even know he was gone?
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Round 5 14: Chitin, 1HP, pending fatigue 13: Monkey Brother 2, in melee combat with Chitin & Nocturne; paralyzed (helpless), bruised x2, staggered 12: Nocturne, 2HP, pending fatigue 4: Monkey Gang 6, minion, disarmed, fleeing Chitin's up.
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Monkey Brother 2 attempts to shake the Paralyze: 16, not good enough. Nocturne's going to walk up and action surge to attempt to coup de grace him. That hits and crits, for a DC23 toughness save. Monkey Brother saves: 22, oh, c'mon. Fortitude against the coup KO?: 21 Monkey just does not know how to give up. For brevity, I'm going to say the last gang member can tell which way the wind blows and is going to try to run for it.
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Monkey saves: 21 Fails by 9; he takes a bruise (and refreshes his daze), but no KO I'm afraid.
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No hero point needed; full Paralysis is a rough condition, and sets the paralyzed person's defense score to 5. Monkey Brother 2 makes a toughness save: 16 Fails by 14; staggered, dazed, but conscious.
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Round 4 14: Chitin, 1HP 13: Monkey Brother 2, in melee combat with Chitin; paralyzed (helpless) 12: Nocturne, 2HP 4: Monkey Gang 6, minion, on missiles. May has been shot in the leg, but seems to be dealing with it. Her shield is unsteady but she's not under fire anymore. Most of the crowd has dispersed well toward the exits. A few stragglers have seen the tide turning and are cheering a bit. Security forces are still down. Chitin's up.
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Nocturne "YOU ARE SEEING CRUSH YOU!!" explained the monkey-man past a set of teeth a bit too large for his mouth, swinging both hands together where Chitin's head had just been; they didn't land, but they hit each other with considerable force - force enough to make a shockwave that billowed a nearby banner. Nocturne scanned the room, sighed, and picked a spot between the missiles and the raging ape; her dust collected and grew, less particulate and more overlapping dots of black and gold that clung to everything in the area. "Kneel," she demanded, and the area did: anything not sturdy enough collapsed, flattening to the floor. Even the angriest ape stuttered, dropping one leg to its knee and freezing under a weight Chitin couldn't feel from just outside the effect's circle. The last surviving minion had managed to scramble back in his seat, barely escaping his doom - though his success didn't do much to decrease his panic, and he immediately started working at the missile controls again. Another missile sputtered, paused, and then fell directly out of its clamp with a clatter and no boom.
