Ari

GM Kaurus shrugged at Jay's refusal "Suit yourselves" he murmured. Getting to his feet, began to casually wring some of the excess water from his tunic, thought better of it and stripped it off entirely, wrung off the water, rolled it up and tossed it over his shoulder. Martin had almost begun to make the first syllable of a word in protest, but clamped his mouth shut and simply looked over at Jay, muttering "What now sir?" About then, a distant wooden rattle sounded in the distance, which brought an actual gleam to the young student of geometry's eye, which previously had been curiously dull and unreflective. Waving pleasantly to the two time tourists(OOC: that sounds like a good name for a band) he set off in the direction of the clacking and rattling wheels and clip-clopping of heavy hooves. A sudden piercing whistle froze him in his tracks. With a cry of joy, he ran back, shading his eyes from the sun and yelling enthusiastically "There it is! I had no idea it would get here so fast! Look look! Behold the boat that's powered by naught but boiling water!" He was only half right. The large trireme that was cruising slowly(to the yes of the moderns) past the cape had its sails down, but the large paddles affixed to the sides and the billows of steam belching from the large engine aft did a great deal to distract from them. Kaurus stared at it with immense eyes, utterly speechless with amazement. Martin suffered the opposite affliction. The sight sent him into full babbling mode. "I what is that why how did there isn't @#$%*^~*& what WHY?!" was a small fraction of the torrent of syllables that poured out of his mouth as he spluttered with confused anger at the anachronism as it serenely waltzed past.

REMOVED FOR REASON OF OBSOLESCENCE.

King of Suits Late Shift Sandwiches 9 IC posts. El Heraldo None. GM The Harvestfair 15 GM posts= 7 IC posts(apply to King of Suits) Quick to Err 8 GM posts= 4 IC posts(apply to El Heraldo)

Hey Paragon! If you're agreeable/available, I'd love to run a thread with you.

GM "A god" declared the young man with great placidity "Is an entity possessing the power and authority to govern the existence of an aspect of reality, like how Poseidon rules the sea, Zeus the sky, and" his voice dropped to a barely-heard whisper "Just Lord Hades commands the earth.(his voice resumed its earlier volume) What do you command and rule? I am Kaurus of Syracusae, and this is a beach on the north-western edge of the fair island of Sicillia. There should be a cart coming in.." he scanned the sky for a moment "..an hour or so we can take to the port of Drepanon, where I can easily get you two passage to wherever you wish. I'm heading back to Syracusae myself; my father sent me here to survey this land for farming, an I'll be glad to bring him good news for once" he resumed an almost cow-like stare of insurmountable ease and patience. Martin decided that it would be best to clear up one small matter. Removing his mask and offering his hand he said a little nervously "Er, pleased to meet you Kaurus, I am Martin of Little Rock, and I'm not a Carthaginian, bu-" "No," responded Kaurus blandly "Now that I look at you, and hear you, neither of you have the accent or darkened skin most of them have. You look more like the northen barbarians, and 'Little Rock' is as barbarian a place as I ever heard of. How did you come to learn our tongue?" Martin seemed more than a little stung at hearing his birthplace described as sounding 'barbarian', but mastered himself and explained "My mother and father wished me to go to a higher position in life(["As seems to be the case the world over" Kaurus commented), and among much else I learned how to speak the tongue of learning" this satisfied the young mathematician, who turned once again to Jay with a look of unhurried curiosity.

The King of Suits called after him "Glad to be aboard! See you later Asad!", and gave a short whistle at Asad's flight capability "Never something to take lightly" he murmered. Glowing with excitement at this new, completely unlooked-for development. Only an hour ago, he had been wondering which one of the apartment's services to cut back on to allow money to fix a hole in the roof. Now an eccentric superhero with gobs of money had offered him a place on a super-team, with vast resources soon to be at his disposal Got to be careful, though he warned himself, I dare say Asad, while rich, still will want his comrades to show a little restraint in spending. For all that, his head was still abuzz with new possibilities, new plans, and the message he would need to send to the House of Suits' command center in Estonia. Scanning the rooftop for any last traces of debris, he rapelled down the side of an adjacent building to dump the garbage in an appropriate receptacle, and after regaining a higher vantage point, went off towards West End, thouroughly checking every street and alley he passed to see if evil was afoot...

GM Martin evidently had some idea of Jay's fury, as he made no attempt at further explanation. Instead, he quietly pressed the deactivation switch on the Channeler and returned it to his pocket. He then stopped abruptly, a strange look on his face. Whipping his left hand back into his pocket a slow look of renewed anger passed over it. He tapped the switch and the device returned to its usual dimensions once more. Turning back to Jay Martin said flatly "Sir, this will sound impossibly stupid, but I forgot it was in my pocket, as my miniaturization tech works even better than I thought it would. You see, it was just supposed to be a quick fix; I hated having it rub holes in every pocket and take up so much space in whatever bag I used, so I programmed the thing to shunt pieces of itself into other possible dimensions around itself. Of course now I realize that was a foolish thing to do, and I ought to have not tried to forget I had it, but that's most likely small comfort, and no apology I make will fix this problem" resuming his thoughtful look at the youth in the tunic, he mused aloud "Now would be a great time to know Greek, or maybe Latin" To both of the time-displaced beings shock, the young man replied with what sounded vaguely to Jay's ears like a Italian accent "Well, I'd say you speak it pretty well". The man appeared to have gotten over his initial terror, and regarded the two with interest, asking eagerly of Jay "Excuse me, but are you one of those Carthaginian gods I've heard about? I had no idea they walked the earth visibly anymore than ours do!" he smiled pleasantly at the odd vision of a great cat standing on its hind legs, showing at least no obvious fear. Jay could still smell lingering traces of it about the soaked native, however.

GM The operation involved in getting Mr. Mist out from under the giant lamp and into the gas-packs the AEGIS agents carried was at least interesting to look at: several heavy-duty jacks were taken from the back of the truly formidable-looking truck the agents had arrived in, placed under the lamp and jacked. Once the lamp was on its base Mr. Mist attempted to dissipate into the air but was quickly apprehended: the gear AEGIS had sent split his gaseous body into pieces, none of which had the full agency or power the whole possessed. Once that was done, the packs were placed in large sealed canisters, so that if he escaped through the cracks of the pack, he'd still be trapped. The apprehension done, the apparent leader of the squad, a Mr. Leuven(short, stockily-built, iron-gray hair and deeply tanned skin), approached the heroes on the beach "Thank you for your quick work here. From what eyewitnesses have told me, you acted admirably today. May I ask what you've named yourselves, so that if we need to get this guy again, I know who to call?" he smiled a little more broadly than if he was entirely serious, but he seemed grateful nonetheless. After the heroes had given their answers, he shook their hands, thanked them again and departed, the squad cars and AEGIS van threading their way through the returning(and renewed!) crowd. It was by now noon. Crowds clustered about whichever heroes hadn't slipped off back into their regular guises, the play on the dock was postponed until after lunch, and most of the assembled musicians, by some unspoken agreement, gathered near the meal tents to play their hearts out. As the heroes went their ways, they now had the satisfaction of having kept even the arrival of a supervillain from stopping others from enjoying THE HARVESTFAIR!

Well then, FIGHT OVER! Great job, guys! I'll get up another GM post, and you guys can respond as you like, then we'll call this done, sound good?

...With a warped popping noise, the portal had opened a little distance(no more than 20ft., if that) from a warm, tan-sanded beach set between a short, grassy hill and a broad-shouldered mountain. The sky was clear and blue as the meandering waves, the air was gently moved by a soft breeze from the east, and filled with birds yelling about whatever birds yell about, and there was only a single young man trying to work out how geometry worked in making boat keels in sight. With an unholy splash, the water from the tank crashed down out of the sky from its wrecked basin, with Jay and Marty only just escaping its flow into the sea that sent an immense wave directly onto the young man's intricate portrayals of triangles and minutely-done measure of the radius of a half-circle. It also relieved Jay of the need to swim for very long, as it tossed the two of them powerfully onto the beach. The painstaking marks were deatroyed utterly, the man was soaked and terrified, and for the next several minutes he dared make no move as he watched the new arrivals. Martin clambered slowly to his feet, looked around and groaned. Then he checked the various dials and numbers on the underside of the Channeler, and groaned again. Turning to Jay, he said grimly "Mr. Xavier, there isn't any way to soften this: we appear to be in the past, at what temporal point I can't determine yet. This is a terrible situation, as the Channeler isn't designed to go through time like this, and moreover has been drained of almost all available power by that stunt it just pulled" he glared at it, and for a split second looked ready to toss it into the sea. Then he pocketed it, and said with effort "This situation is entirely salvageable, we just need to get a consistent power source, while we do that I'll look through this WRETCHED THING'S logs and reconstruct how your Timeshift interected with it, we recreate it in reverse and get home" glancing at the staring man in the tunic he added more quietly "And of course with as little changing of history as we can manage"

GM The first ten minutes or so of the test went quite well(everyone had already worn out their stock of 'swimmingly' gags in the lead-up to the test), with the impulses traveling through the wires showing definite differences in how the Timeshift interacted in liquid surroundings compared to gaseous ones, Martin diligently keeping an eye on how the impulses were being sent and recieved by the monitoring computer banks, the peaceful golden light lending an almost holy aura to the proceedings and the watchful crew keeping the wires from getting tangled. It was just as the first turnaround was being readied for the swimmers when for the briefest of moments, Martin rolled slightly over to check the layout of the wiring and see if it needed any adjustment, and by unhappy chance, his left pocket entered past the two meter zone. At the very least, Martin would feel vaguely proud of having built such a sensative device as the Channeler, as it abruptly flared to life upon detecting the Timeshift, tearing a small rip in the wetsuit as it resumed its usual dimensions and opened a portal between worlds. Martin spun at once to press the 'off' button, but it was already too late: the prototype software that had encountered the Timeshift before hadn't been able to do anything with energy except use it as fuel, the updated coding now allowed it to 'test' potential sources of power for compatibility with maniplating the space/time continuum. Obviously intended solely for highly controlled environments, this function swiftly proved both its practical application and enormous hazards. With a harsh rasping noise like a file on a tin can, the portal opened beneath the two swimmers, swallowing them, thousands of gallons of water and a large chunk of the nearby tank wall with a dull thud, leaving the severed wires to turn the bottom of the tank into a deathtrap that was quickly dismantled. In the long and awkward silence that followed, the crew gradually set to work tracing where the two had gone...

Unless Airon and/or Evi want to do anything, yes.

Clasping the offered hand, Marceau shook it energetically "Unlike some of the other costumed vigilantes around, I'm not nearly powerful or connected enough to risk revealing who I really am and where I live and such, so that concession is greatly appreciated, and I thank you again for the info about Recall, if I get any sign or word on him I'll contact you. Who have you approached on this? I get the idea you're just starting to recruit heroes to your side, and I'd be happy to work as your agent and contact the more elusive ones you're thinking of gathering in your stead" By this point, a definite French accent had crept into his voice, and by the end of his suggestion he had become greatly animate, eyes now a gleaming blue and teeth starkly reflecting the harsh lights cast on the rooftop. He had casually gathered any refuse of the meal that Asad had missed, stowing it away somewhere in his cape for disposal when a conveniant receptacle was available.

GM Asad's words had little effect, mostly because the chemist supervillain was too dazed from the violence of the heroe's onslaught to focus much on what the man in the gold and burgundy costume was saying. He muttered something about "Ne'er surrend'ring", but it was abundantly clear that there wasn't much fight left in him, if any. It was about then that the giant tin lamp spray-painted copper came crashing down on Mr. Mist's wavering body, his crippling from Spitfire's assault meaning he could only stare blankly at it as it hurtled towards him and smashed a deep indent on the soft sand of the beach, trapping the chemical cloud beneath it. Fom under it muffled sounds could be heard, but obviously the gaseous man was pretty squarely trapped under the metal shell. A hearty cheer came from the fairgoers who had stuck through the fight, the jubilant cries attracting many of those who had fled back to the scene of what was shaping up to be a profound victory for law and order, punctuated by the noisy, siren-heralded arrival of several squads of the FCPD, including a few A.E.G.I.S. agents with what looked like vacuum cleaners strapped to their armored backs.

No need to apologize Evi, I'm new (and brainless) enough to need the reminder, good catch. That's right, I'd forgotten that being Stunned means he loses Dodge Focus bonus to Defence, gets another -2 to that check, so the DC is actually 18. Additionally he can't take any action besides reactions for the rest of the round. Your 19 hits squarely, and the lamp lands neatly on top of him. Mr. Mist's Reflex save to avoid being Snared, (DC25 due to it's size(Huge)) by the giant lamp: 22. Pretty close. He's now Pinned underneath the lamp. If that's not how it goes don't be shy in telling me so.

GM Martin nodded emphatically, eager to begin another round of a game he liked to call THE EXPANSION OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE(!!!!!! optional). After checking with the operators of the tank, he slipped on his mask and plunged into the tank. Several seconds passed in his check to make sure his gear had not a crack in it, and he gave the go-ahead signal to the crew standing by. He had already run through his array of tools strung on the imposing loops running from his right shoulder to his left thigh. All were in full working order and showed no sign whatever of being unfit for the task at hand. At his sign Jay was asked to begin his acclimation to the tank's water temperature, which at 10 degrees Celsius was at least mildly warm. After a great deal of discussion, chlorination of the tank prior to the test had been decided against, due to worries about how Jay's sensative nose would have to put up with the smell long after a human would have been able to detect it(and the dozen and one irritants besides), not to mention the fact that cleaning it would be the same regardless of whether or not the resulting particles were sterilized or not. Once Jay had become accustomed to the water(which with his power over the passage of time was no doubt quickly done), he and Martin began the first leisurely lap around the tank. The room the tank was in was roughly circular, flattening at the extreme east and west ends where the doorways connecting it to the rest of the Laboratories were. The pool was a neat rectangle with slightly rounded edges with segments of steel railing at intervals of three feet, in between which were currently raised plastic and steel platforms that usually served as docks for experiments in the durability of materials meant for underwater expeditions. The room hadn't any windows, but a large chandelier shaped like the solar system(with models of dwarf planets added regularly) supplied a pleasant golden glow. At the northern end of the room the command center lay reaching all across the room from east to west, a rectangular box with a door at each end and a clear Plexiglass window aimed at the pool, in which was the various monitors used for the tests the room held. At present about half of the monitors were in use, meaning there was a gentle murmer in the air from hushed conversation, inaudible underwater. If nothing else, the surroundings the two were going to spend an hour or so in weren't unlikeable.

Quite correct Paragon, his having Insubstantial rank 2 means getting a giant oriental smashed over his head won't hurt much more than his feelings. On the other hand, that sounds pretty funny, and makes a good image in my mind, so how about instead of it being a TOU attack, it's a Snare instead? Also, that roll misses him(he has +12 Defence, which plus the +10 given for Defence rolls and minus 2 from being Shaken makes his Defence DC a solid 20). If you'd like, you can burn a Hero Point and re-roll the Attack.

GM Martin slipped as quickly as he could into his wetsuit and SCUBA gear. Partially from having practiced several times before in his dorm at FCU, and partially because he was always filled with excitement when these experiments came around. As he fiddled with the straps of his SCUBA mask he explained to Jubatus "Now, we won't be able to perform anything as fancy as last time, when you were auspened in anti-gravity, but after talking with Dr. Pau(he gestured politely in the direction of a severe-looking woman of apparently Taiwanese heritage), it seems that a constant movement through the water will yield more illuminating results than remaining stationary. We're going to do four laps around the edge of the assigned pool there, two clockwise and two counter-clockwise, switching when a green light flashes on this" he proferred a small LED on his right wrist "while each lap, you and I will remain precisely 2 meters away from each other, to reduce the risk of my accidentally interfering with the signals transmitted by the wires, while still being close enough to help if aomething goes wrong. Any questions, Mr. Xavier?" he asked without any effort to conceal the fact that he was almost unbearably hyped for what amounted to swimming slowly around in a tank of water for about an hour, given the tank's size, while watching a bunch of wires and guages on the screen of a tablet he carried. He knew Jay was familiar with what they had planned to accomplish with the new battery of tests, but Martin figured it wouldn't hurt to keep it fresh in everyone's memory. Out of sheer habit, he still carried his Dimensional Channeler in his left pocket. In fact, he had entirely forgotten he still had it by this point, something his friends knew all too well.

GM The Bluesman's fist struck squarely into the side of the head. The man stiffened, swayed, and then crashed to the floor. Meanwhile, Mike had met enough of the force Asad had generated to knock him out fully, and lay insensible on the grass. By now the distant sound of approaching police sirens could be heard, and the majority of the fairgoers were either fleeing in droves, or else edging closer to the fight to shout encouragement, depending on how close to the fight they were.

I dunno, Ironox. Such radical and unorthodox methods go against okay that hits, obviously. His TOU save is: 16. Well, that's that. Next up, Quintessence!

OOC for this. Martin Brandtford and Jubatus accidentally end up in Terra Roma, and must return to both their own time and universe, a double barrier!

GM 6.40 P.M., October 21st, 2011: North End, A.S.T.R.O. Labs, Temporal Testing Center. Martin Brandtford("Just five weeks 'till I'm a BA!" as he's said every day for the last Monday) sat on a narrow bench in a gleaming white hallway lit by fluorescent lamps along its length. He was waiting for a friend of his, a man named Jay Nelson Xavier, otherwise known as the feline superhero Jubatus. The man's unusual power over the passage of space(and perforce, time) had deeply piqued the young man's interest several months ago, and he had arranged a mutually-beneficial series of tests with the intent to discover the exact nature and function of his powers. Today's test was an examination of how his powers worked while submerged in various liquids, to see what difference(if any) existed between that and their function in gases like air. He had been getting sniggers and sideways looks all month, as the other Lab workers found it hysterically funny that the Arkansas farm boy was going swimming with a cheetah. He had for his part joined right in with the jibes, cheerfully defusing what otherwise would have become a very nearly poisonous atmosphere. He examined the clipboard he cradled in the crook of his right arm, clicking the the button of a pen absentmindedly as he ran over the list of the evening's work to be done. He expected the fastest cat alive any minute now...

GM The flames roared over the beach, burning stray branches, leaves and grass in its path as it struck Mr. Mist like a hammer, burning away an immense chunk of his 'body', sending him reeling back in silent agony, until he came to a stop a few feet back from where the immense gout of fire had originated. Spitfire's taunt obviously rubbed salt into the wound Weaver had torn only seconds ago, as Mr. Mist had opened his mouth furiously just before the searing heat had struck him. His hissing, bursting cloud of a body slumped to the ground, where his features twisted and distended, clear signs that his command over his gaseous form was weakened greatly. Meanwhile, significantly closer to the other edge of the fairgrounds, the last Lad found himself surrounded by a massive cloud of swirling cloth, tent material and flags. Having no idea what to expect from something like this, he stopped dead, a wave of panic rooting to the ground as he stared wildly around at the barrier to the outside world, the swirling mass doing a lot to disorient him from his usual senses of both reality and direction.

Okay, End of Round 1! Round 2 The Bluesman: unharmed. Quintessence: Unharmed Asad: Unharmed. Mr. Mist: Staggered, Stunned. The Lads: All but one Unconscious, and he's Fleeing. Weaver: unharmed. Spitfire: Unharmed. Bluesman is up!

There was a brief quiet as Marceau weighed the implied offer(or inferred, he kept getting them mixed up and nobody ever seemed to know which meant which). On the one hand, being on a team had boundless benefits, with a ready source of aid in case of danger, the ability to do more good fighting the various supervillains in the city, and having someone as wealthy as Asad seemed to be as a backer would enable a team to have truly vast resources at their disposal. On the other hand, being on a team meant that he would need to be on call at all times to assist them(as I would expect others to do for me he pointed out to himself), and it would mean that they would as a group be easier to target than if they were isolated. As well, the threats he would be likely to face would increase appropriately, and he had no desire to end up out of his depth fighting the likes of Omega and Mastermind and Overshadow. On the other hand, it would mean he could pay the rent, buy food, and get Jackie her medicine more consistently than he usually could, and increase his own arsenal of weapons. He smiled broadly "Asad, if you'll have me, I'd be glad to join forces with you. Anything you'd like to go over first, ground rules and such?"