Ari

Taking in at a glance the direction the administration building lay (I really must learn the right names for these places), Subito bowed slightly to John. "Thank you, John., I'm glad that isn't the norm here" turning to the other two he added earnestly "Thank you all for the welcome. I hope I can see you guys again in not too long" shaking them each by the hand again, he waved cheerfully as he flew off to the building where he needed to sort out his paperwork. The place was easy enough to find, a brownish structure with a purple roof with an outer facade that gave it an air of grandeur the color choices would have otherwise taken from it. Dropping to his feet at the doorway, he walked in with all the self-assurance he could muster, dodging neatly around the various staff members and students going in and out the large double doors. Saying his "excuse me"s to a red-skinned teen about his age with black geometric markings all over his body and a jovial attitude, a large and very shy boy in a suit of ominous armor, and seeing a girl in what he presumed to be gothic attire phase through the wall above the door and go flying off towards the quad put him pretty well at ease with the idea of what sort of a world he had become embroiled in. He marched up to the reception desk and politely stated his name and purpose. The woman seated behind the table, a kindly-looking sort, gave him a short form to fill out while he waited for his room to be settled. The form was much like the ones his parents had had to fill out when he was first getting ready for transferal to Claremont, asking if he had any minor medical issues and his attendance history and suchlike. It was hardly interesting to fill out, and Subito was deeply grateful when his name was called for. It turned out he was to be housed in the northern end of the 'Edward Jon Carter Dormitory Building', on the second floor. With great good will Subito thanked her and set off, marking down the time of his arrival on his way out.

"<Could I do both? To call ahead and let the local authorities know about the crash and the survivors, and go into town to make arrangements for the retrieval of the survivors?>" he sipped his glass, barely noticing the aftertaste "<If you need one or the other to be left unused by us I quite understand, but I really don't see why we can't use both>" in his heart, he wondered nervously if there was an energy shortage in the village that necessitated the choice. Despite his inward unease he kept up a picture of pleasant concern, hoping his feelings didn't show too much, which he gathered was a required practice in his line of work for some reason.

Hokay, I get a very strong feeling that I'm doing something very wrong with this guy, anybody feeling in the mood to correct me on what this mistake might be? I'm thinking it might be the basic composition and make-up of his powers but I dunno.

Okay, Diplomacy roll: 21, hope that works out.

Deeply relieved at the relative ease that marked their escape from the deadly(or so he presumed) searchers, Marceau had changed out of his heroing garb when it became plain that the danger was past. For the moment. There was still a great deal to do what with making sure the team spared the water and food, keeping the others warm in the icy cold of the desert night, and keeping their course straight with the help of Ford's device. When they had sighted the lights of the village he had felt an ill-advised sense of accomplishment and success. Marching briskly into the bar and beckoning the others to follow, he walked up to the tender with his brightest smile and asked for directions to nearest city and "<Some drinks for me and my friends>"

The girl in the containment suit turned to John, mouth opened to protest his crisp forecast of further trouble, but wilted quickly under his cool stare. She nodded and hurriedly helped the boy whose exercise uniform was supplemented with various devices to his feet. Without waiting for further rebuke, the two quickly re-formed the portal and dived through, and from the other side came the muffled and distorted sounds of what was presumably the beginning of the gym teacher's complementary tirade at the two students. The portal closed with a snap and wave of rapidly-dissipated bluish/orange energy. Subito looked at John with utter admiration. Back home, you usually had to shout for the better part of a minute to even be heard, and actually getting someone to do something took around ten minutes of ceaseless argument. Yet in under a minute, this John had gotten two people already in an argument to stop talking and go back to gym class with only a few words and a stare. Whatever this school taught, it seemed quite effective. "That..that is very impressive John Smith. Do they teach you that as part of the regular coursework, or is it an extra-credit sort of thing?" He had overheard three junior members of the schools staff across the quad talking about how they were heading to the administrative building, and began to idly float in the direction they seemed to be going. "Do you have anything you need to do or would you be able to talk on the way to the reception table?" he fervently hoped he would be able to find out the proper names for the buildings he could perceive, calling the place 'the administrative building' would be hard on the tongue with repeated use.

Keeping from his mind the question of how anyone could see Ford's decapitated head should it become attached to a space-going vessel, Marceau focused instead on trying to figure out if there were any loopholes in this situation they could exploit. Unfortunately, the place the attack was in kept the most obvious solution(contacting the Freedom League) from being viable, and the only other he could conceive as something he could do that would make an effect(rallying the Cercle) was rather out of his reach at the moment. Scowling into the night, he realized that there was another option: getting the device that had teleported the beings in black away, and using it to gain an audience with the Star Khan, and perhaps even convince the powerful creature to cease the hunt. But that lay rather far into the future, and the drones had to be dealt with. "Ford, if we don't get you to safety it won't be for lack of trying. Coming here might turn out for the best, as you were in the employ of the Star Khan, and must have knowledge of his tactics and stratagems and technology that few others on Earth could so much as guess at. If you chose to turn that knowledge against your old master you could hardly have come to a better place than here. But that's in the future, and the present consists of us needing to find a way to lure the drones away from the main party so they can get to civilization, if it can be got to. Can your mob-" he checked himself and corrected the question "Can that device be used to find energy sources at long ranges? It might useful to point the main team in the right direction" he handed Ford a few flash/bang cards as he spoke, just in case.

OOC thread for Under Cape and Banner.

September 10th, 8.15 P.M. Subito crept to the edge of the warehouse, wishing again he hadn't brought the Banner with him. For the last few months, rumors had spread about kidnappers wearing grey targeting young metahumans, though no attempt had been successful as the heroes in the city were usually on the case quickly enough. Oddly enough, no information could be got from the kidnappers, who according to the psychics called in to search their minds had absolutely no knowledge of why they did what they did, only that they had to do it. This time the kidnappers had had a bit more luck. A friend of his named Janet Eriksson, who had worked with him at one of the grocery stores Subito had worked at, had been grabbed hardly ten hours ago. Tracking the truck that she had been tossed into had been quite easy, but he had been ambushed when he had attempted to investigate the warehouse he currently was standing on. The kidnappers had dumped him into the water under the wharf with an anchor tied to his feet to speed him on his way. Getting out of that scrape was profoundly easy for him, but Subito had stayed nearby for as long as he could before going home to get the Banner, gathering as much information as he could. Apparently the kidnappers had finally found a chink in the armor of the city's defenders, and had struck at the homes of metas who lived alone, mostly college and university students with a few high-school-aged youths here and there. The kidnapped metas, or 'the haul'(which the kidnappers seemed to insist on calling it), had to be heavily sedated for what was apparently a lengthy sea voyage, meaning that Subito had plenty of time to get prepared for the assault on the warehouse where the metas were being held. That it might be a better idea to call the police or go looking for a more experienced super simply never occurred to him, as he was still extremely new to the business, and saw no harm in trying to make it on his own merits. That said, as he peered at the grey-uniformed kidnappers carrying the rectangular metal boxes onto the boat, he felt a profound sense of fear.

King of Suits Four Kings Habitat for Metahumanity Sleeping Worms Sting Operation September 2011 Vignette: Water Ripples... Heraldo Killing Time Out of Blue Waters Under Cape and Banner Extracurricular (Please award PP to King of Suits) NPC submitted and approved: Martin Brandtford Wiki page for King of Suits: Link

The bullets whizzed harmlessly past the caped agent as he rolled to safety, and with a weary sigh he decided that he had best try and dispose of the three men who were still giving him grief. Ducking quickly back around his cover, he let fly with three boomerangs, each meant for a different target. He knew there was a greater danger in this, that he might well fail to take some of them down even if he did manage to score a hit; but the fight was unpleasant to him and he was almost desperate to finish it as soon as he could, the distant gunfire of his nightmarish adventures in Cambodia ringing in his ears.

Well, DEF DC for King is 24, so they all miss. Going to keep up the method: Split Attack on the three Gunmen still in possession of their firearms. The Attacks: 23, 16, 31. DC's are all 15.

Player Name: Arichamus Character Name: Martin Brandtford Power Level: 4 (60/60PP) Trade-Offs: None. Unspent PP: 0 Progress To Bronze Status: 0/30 In Brief: Young optimistic scientist specializing in the field of the physics of time and space, eager to do good in other worlds. Alternate Identity: None. Identity: Public. Birthplace: Little Rock, Arkansas Occupation: Part-time teacher's assistant, Freedom City University student. Affiliations: Superheroes, A.S.T.R.O. Labs, Freedom University, physicists. Family: Brian Brandtford(father), Beryl Brandtford(mother), Sarah Brandtford(elder sister), Mark Brandtford(elder brother), Benjamin Brandtford(younger brother) Age: 21 Apparent Age: N/A Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 6'2" Weight: 158 Lbs. Eyes: Brownish-red Hair: Brown Description: Immensely thin(accented by his height), Martin wears long, loose clothing with a vaguely formal theme, foregoing the casual wear most of his friends prefer. He wears large and thick blue glasses marked on the arms with a Pi symbol. His hair is generally unkempt and slightly longer than is considered optimal. His nose is long and sharp, and straight as a spade-head, while his lips are narrow, and often hidden by a broad grin born of earnest cheer that pushes forward his otherwise-unnoticeable chin. On occasions when he feels a need to cut a more dramatic figure he wears a voluminous lab coat he painstakingly stitched together from several smaller ones. Power Descriptions: Martin has no powers in the strict sense, though he has an 'opened' consciousness that is as much a change of perspective as it is the result of being touched by another dimension. History: Martin Brandtford is the third of four children, with all the attendant profits and demerits of being a middle child. He had the example of his two elders to keep a watch on, while he also dealt with the slow change of his parent's affections for his younger brother, something that is rarely handled well in youth. He had a great deal to occupy him, thankfully, and his feelings towards his younger sibling never developed past a slight dislike that is rapidly being obliterated by the flickering years. On the farm he spent most of his life on in Arkansas, his parents never allowed any leisure time for more than an hour or so at most. In their view, if you weren't doing something to improve yourself or the world around you, you might as well be dead. Thus, Martin was encouraged to develop his growing scientifically-inclined mind from a much younger age than the norm, permitting him to familiarize himself with concepts like the space-time continuum and Brownian Motion. The farm, having been long occupied by people of similar hearts and minds as Martin's relations, meaning manifold strange gadgets, machines and pieces of art and architecture littered the homestead and its property. One of these devices was a half-finished portal machine. Completing what needed doing took until Martin was 10, but he was quite familiar with the inner workings of machinery by that age, and he knew how to make the odd gyroscope-like wheel spin properly. What he did not expect was for the rip in the dimensional barrier, and the sight of a gigantic needle holding on its tip a seemingly-endless wheel of worlds. He had no way of knowing that he had beheld the moment when the Alphians had completed their work on their first universes uncountable eons ago, or that the cosmic power leashed to such engines as the inhabitants of the First Universe used had permanently affected his very soul. The machine broke down almost immediately and the rip quickly closed, so it was only a glimpse, but it changed Martin forever. He became happier, a spring came into his step, he appreciated people more, to him the sky was bluer and the sun shone brighter and the dark of the night was less terrible, and all fear left him. Aside from his new-found joy, Martin's intellect was expanded by the experience, and the things that had seemed intractably difficult became, while not easy, at least explicable to him. He quickly finished his basic education, and set off at the age of 17 for Freedom College, where his breezy and open personality made him something of a novelty. Finishing his work there without much issue or incident, it was at Freedom University that Martin happened upon a singularly interesting prospect. He was doing swimmingly in physics, and was brought to A.S.T.R.O. Labs for testing to see if he had a super-human intellect. Their tests revealed him to be completely normal, but while being given a short tour of the place he was brought to the lab where a device for traversing dimensions was being planned. To the bafflement of the scientists working on the plans, Martin made several corrections and improvements to their design, despite it being absolutely impossible for him to have had any instruction in the theory of extra-dimensional travel. A hurried re-test showed him again, to be a normal human in construction and brain capabilities. Deeply confused by this, A.S.T.R.O. Labs gave Martin a scholarship to complete his training in conventional theoretical physics, while setting up a plan for his instruction at HIT, and giving him a job working in their extra-dimensional studies division int he interim. With his help the Dimensional Channeler was completed several years ahead of schedule, with the caveat that only he could properly operate it without risk to life and limb. His studies in school and in his own time revealed to him an apparent connection to the changes in the space-time continuum, which a subsequent observation of the time-warping time-suit Downtime was always stealing confirming an at least tenuous connection. A more thorough sweep of potential time-bending throughout the city in early 2011 revealed the speedster Jubatus to Martin, who thought that the fastest cat alive would be invaluable for dependable testing of his hypothesis. An attempt to contact the genetically-altered speedster led to a brief and eventful trip through the Schattenwelt and the dimension housing the ancient Hittite deities, and the consent from Jubatus to test how his powers worked. With Jubatus's help, Martin hopes to discover the possible interplay between the space and time of different dimensions, and bring the blessings of science to worlds that need it. Personality & Motivation: Martin is the sort of person who, if given powers on par with the Scarab or the Centurion, would be in such little danger of using them ill as to be no threat whatsoever to world peace(such as it is). He is as just, fair and kind as can manage to be to whomever he is dealing with, believing deeply in the ultimate goodness within everyone. Ever-ready with a kind word and an encouraging gesture for anyone he meets, Martin is filled with a boundless optimism in the positive effects of proper application of the scientific method. Powers & Tactics: Martin is completely unsuited for battle, and will usually attempt to get between opposing parties in order to keep a fight from breaking out with persuasion. If up against someone who can demolish him(i.e., most supervillains, random thugs and large dogs), he'll either try and escape the fight, or if he can't escape, he'll put up the best fight he can before his defeat. Complications: Pacifist: Simple as that, Martin can't bear to hurt anyone in any way if he can avoid it. Abilities: 2 + 4 + 2 + 14 + 8 + 10 = 36PP Strength: 12 (+1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 12 (+1) Intelligence: 24 (+7) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 0 + 0 = 0PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +0 Grapple: +0 Defense: +0 (+0 Base, +0 Dodge Focus), +0 Flat-Footed Knockback: -0 Saving Throws: 0 + 0 + 0 = 0PP Toughness: +1 (+1 Con, +0 [Other]) Fortitude: +1 (+1 Con, +0) Reflex: +6 (+2 Dex, +0) Will: +4 (+4 Wis, +0) Skills: 76R = 20PP Concentration 9 (+12) Craft(Electronic) 9 (+16) Skill Mastery Craft(Mechanical) 9 (+16)Skill Mastery Disable Device 9 (+16) Diplomacy +9 (+12) Handle Animal 9 (+12) Knowledge(Current Events) 4 (+11) Knowledge(Physical Sciences) 9 (+16) Skill Mastery Knowledge(Popular Culture) 4 (+11) Knowledge(Technology) 9 (+16) Skill Mastery Feats: 4PP Eidetic Memory Fearless Inventor Skill Mastery: ( Craft(Electronic), Craft(Mechanical), Knowledge(Physical Sciences), Knowledge(Technology) DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC15 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Abilities (36) + Combat (0) + Saving Throws (0) + Skills (20) + Feats (4) + Powers (0) - Drawbacks (0) = 60/60 Power Points

The King of Suits felt the impact of one of the gunmen's bullets slam into his shoulder. Staggered, he nonetheless managed to get to cover behind some support pillars holding a particularly confusing array of catwalks above the floor. As he dove to cover, he let fly with a boomerang, though he knew even as it left his fingers that it was unlikely to hit anyone. He trusted it would at least be another thing the gunmen had to be wary of. Meanwhile, the boomerangs he had flung seconds before came spiraling back towards the gunmen that had just managed to avoid them. As he heard the shots ringing around him, one thought came back into his mind time after time as he contemplated what he needed to do: what's happening with Mad Dog?

His eyes gleaming with an idea, Marceau turned to Ford and whispered "I'll try and lead them away from our position here with repeated shots in similar locations. When the drones investigate, you and I will strike at the drones while the other three continue on course. What weaknesses do the drones have, structurally speaking?" he was busily readying more flash/bangs as he spoke, his eyes seeming to be trying to pull themselves from their sockets as he focused on the dune where the ball had floated. He wondered why this was happening, and what it was that the Khan was trying to prove by expending such resources to locate one being on an out-of-the-way planet at the edge of the galaxy. "Why is the Star Khan so invested in your capture, Ford?" he breathed, "What's the point of this?"

The whole site's going to alderwitch, so I might as well too. My request is for the character of the King of Suits (weaksauce Batclone with the Spawn collar) in-costume and standing on the roof of a building looking down over the edge, with a ring of stars around his head in the night sky.

Upon hearing that, Marceau nodded and slung off a flash/bang at a dune due east of their position, figuring the heat(and noise) would at least slightly serve to assist them. If that failed to work they could always just throw more, or at the very least he could make up a special explosive compound that would look under UV light like a bonfire from the slightly nastier regions of hell. Turning to Ford he muttered "Sorry for the posturing just now, I'll keep from making any more principled speeches until at least this issue with you and the Khan is resolved"]

Okay, here goes: TOU DC 19 save is 21. Made. Attack for just-missed boomerangs is: 28, 15. TOU DC is 17 and 16. Attack for other boomerang(just one) against Gunman#3 is: 15, garn. TOU DC is 18.

"Ford, no, that isn't how it goes here. Not how it's supposed to, anyway. People like me who wear the mask" he was as quiet as he could manage under the circumstances "do not send others to do our jobs. While I'm here, trying to take care of this business falls to me. I know of several other unpowered powers who might be alright with sacrificing others for their goals, but I'm not. Besides, we need to keep them away from the wreck as much as we can. Tell me what I need to do to distract those things and I'll do it" He looked much less sure of himself than he sounded, he was deeply thankful for the dark of the night. Even so, he readied a razor card all the same, just in case one of the drones happened to start wandering over to them. He was immensely irritated by the enveloping dark of the night.

The massive horse stared at Jubatus for a few moments before throwing back its long head and letting out a mighty ringing like several thousand bells left out in a windy day. "There is no harm in that, no. If we were on Earth, there might be some trouble with the use of that device but not here. Besides, if I recall correctly the ban is on graven images, and you have to want to steal something for the ill-effects to work. But it's been eons since I was last on Earth, so the rules might have changed. Anyway, take as many pictures as you like. They won't vanish or turn blank or anything" Looking to the inn ahead it added "Want something to eat, there or on the way? It's a good long trek yet, and it wouldn't do to get to the gate and be half-starved. I have to talk to Wurrukatte about cutting through any barriers the Fatherdark might have put over the path to Earth anyway" Martin Brandtford jumped lightly to the hard flagstones, a tablet computer couched in the crook of his left arm. With his right he briefly shielded his eyes from the rays emanating from the golden-robed woman, until his eyes had suitably adjusted to the glare whereupon he set about taking recordings of his surroundings. In the middle of his analysis of the local air pressure, he spotted Jubatus at the back of the bus and came over, a cheerful smile on his face. "If you're not very busy Mr. Xavier, I'd love to get back to figuring out the parameters of our upcoming experiment. I believe we were just finishing up on where the contact wires were to be placed. As I was saying, if there is anywhere you'd prefer them not to be, your wish will be granted"

"How?" was the prompt response. "Do they track heat, movement, soundwaves, souls?" ppeering into the darkness of the desert night, Marceau wished he had night-vision goggles. He quietly began the process of discarding his outerwear, the dull greyish-blue coveralls that had withstood a great deal of potential damage over the years, including a light acid. He had since discovered that the material the coveralls was made of was proof against all but the harshest cleaning agents, and the acid had never stood a chance. Now in full costume(and thankfully almost invisible in the dark of the desert) he added "Distraction would be a good idea. How many? You want me to do it?"

Dropping prone to the ground(and gesturing to the others to do the same) Marceau asked Ford "Where are they, and how can we evade them?" For the last few hours the gnawing fear had been growing within his stomach, he was glad to finally have a chance to vent it through action rather than having it fester. Craning his head up, he scanned the horizon for any sign of the phantoms the mobile had detected. It was unlikely he would be able to see them, he knew, but it felt more reassuring than simply lying on the sand and waiting for the end.

"Marching order could allow us to respond to attack differently depending who's where" explained the King of Suits to Mala Suerte. "With me in front, we'd be in a bad way if we came under assault by melee fighters, while you or Revenant would turn them into chowder with much less trouble. I'm mostly a ranged fighter, so guys with guns would be little trouble for me" he shrugged as he took his old place "But you're right, so long as we stay close, there shouldn't be much trouble" Looking to the strange twins Dutch, they said? Odd. I never met any Netherlanders who looked much like that he said brightly "Lead the way, please"

Dropping down the ventilation shaft and landing neatly on his feet, Marceau took in at a glance where the armed thugs had placed themselves, and instantly took two boomerangs from their sleeves in the underside of his cape which he flung at the forearms of the two thugs closest to him, grumbling slightly at the one flung from his right hand, which sailed neatly over the limb he had intended to strike. He sprang out of the shaft, met by a hail of gunfire that completely missed him due to equal parts luck, the rattled nerves of the gunmen, and the King of Suit's own agility. Jumping behind a support pillar, he drew out two other boomerangs and, jumping out and aiming at the heads of the gunmen, let them fly.

Ha! Marcy is Immune to your Cold Environments. He'll be uncomfortable, but won't suffer any ill-effects from it.