Ari

Don't mean to be rude, but are we letting this go?

OOC thread for this IC thread

GM: The day was May 14th, 12.38 P.M., and a warm breeze, smelling ever so slightly of the ocean, was blowing slowly through the city of Freedom, having traveled far to see the great metropolis, and feeling in high spirits at being allowed to pass through at its own speed. It blew its warm, slightly salty and ever-so-sticky breath with special kindness on a bus stop in Midtown, plastered with posters for plays, local music groups, more ads than anyone could ever want or need to read or observe, maps to various locations of interest in the city, and dazzling with multicolored(and multifaceted) panels of tinted glass, the product of an over-enthusiastic glass-blowing convention gone frighteningly beautiful. The most eye-catching part of this eye-catching display, however, was the myriad of people from practically every socio-economic group waiting patiently for the arrival of their piece of the mass-transit pie. They were in the throes, for the most part, of deep disappointment. Their driver(a dour, angst-ridden soul named Norman MacArthur) had stopped for an idle 5-minute chat with a fellow driver as they waited for the lights at the hazardous Liberty/40th Ave. stoplight, where gridlock was practically constant. As a result, the unfortunates at the bus stop had plenty of time to get acquainted... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ IC: A sound of quickly moving feet sounded from around the corner of a nearby alley, and a tall youth wearing a dark green coverall and heavy boots came into view, though on seeing the bus-bereft nature of the bus stop, he slowed as quickly as he was able, skidding a few inches to a stop. Marceau sighed deeply, rolling his beard through a series of metal rings as he did, as he watched the streets gloomily. He'd been hoping he could be back at Monkey Towers in time for lunch, which he knew vanished quickly on his floor, to the point where he had to post small notices on meals he wanted to take to work saying"Don't Touch' on them. Glancing up, he caught sight of Lady Liberty carrying two heavily armored fellows high above him. Seeing his movement, a few of the other waiters followed suit, and the stop and most of the street briefly erupted in cheers for the gallant heroine as she sailed smoothly overhead, and some of the crowd swore she looked down and waved to them as she passed. The small respite gone, the crowd sank back into the mire of gloom as the minutes ticked away. Deciding he could do worse than make some acquaintances while he was here. Turning to the person to his immediate left, he smiled cheerfully and said "High time the snow left, eh? Haven't seen the city this bright and pleasant in a while"

The instant Larry leaned back in his chair(to better keep an eye on the door and the current speaker), he felt a faint rush of air behind him, and fortunately enough didn't dismiss it as "just the wind" and turned to see what it was. At the same time he turned Marceau's left fist landed on his cheek, sending his head into the table before him, whereupon he lapsed into unconsciousness. Mike, seated almost across the table, was raising his hand to call forth his mystic blade when the cloaked and masked figure in red and black struck him in the chest with his left foot, sending the thief into a shelving unit behind him stacked with flat-screen TV sets. Amazingly, these failed to explode, or even drop on top of him. This miracle was followed by an act of genuine competence from the third thief the KoS tried to drop, a man named Jonas, who ducked under the whip-like lash of Marceau's right foot, and slashed at his attackers leg. The blow was turned by the armor under the heavy cloak, but Marceau had only seconds to breath before the blows from the other thieves rained down at him. The fifth, a man named Raphael, managed a hit on the shoulder of his foe, but the armor turned the blade, with only light bruising to show for his effort. The others had hacked at their enemy without any sign of its efficacy, and after only a few seconds had retreated several steps from the table, tossing their chairs away to keep themselves somewhat free from obstacles.

No worries! Glad it's not as much of a problem as I feared. Speaking of which, I just remembered, would Falconer bring Snow aboard a bus? Just wondering.

Uh, how long would you say it'll take to sort things out with the refs? a day or so?

Added.

Pleased and proud to have you! Also, anybody who wants any further information about the thread/has concerns/criticisms they'd like to make: by all means! Any feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

PL cap adjusted per your suggestion Quotemyname. Cubist: sure thing! I was thinking of this as more of platform for players with less exposure and experience, but it would be good to have more experienced role-players around to showhow it's done. I'll increase the player limit to seven or so.

Basic plot Idea: Some heroes/heroines are on a bus traversing Freedom City in Midtown. The bus is stolen by an entity who submits the heroes aboard to a series of riddles and tests. Where: Midtown. When: Thread begins as soon as we get enough players(Edit'd). In-universe it takes place in early May. What: Very light Skill/heavy Social thread with no combat planned. Who: \\PL 7-10 EDIT: Actually, five is good, maybe even too many. We'll see, but I'm going to close recruitment here and start it up. Why: To provide a platform for launching relationships among players who may not have met or were only recently established. Players Joined: Arichamus(GM/PC), felicitousFolly(PC), Quotemyname(PC), Azuth65(PC), Cubist(?)(PC) PS. Edit: Requests for entry should be directed to the OOC thread.

Also, I should mention that any suggestions, criticisms and corrections on points of the rules, wrongful appraisal of the background of the campaign setting or just random facts I ought to be aware of are appreciated and encouraged. Anyway, Second Round of Combat! Kingy attempts to Intimidate the group of wrong-doers into ceasing the conflict, with a -3 circumstance modifier due to him suffering my poor implementation of his abilities skills and powers in the previous rounds. Anyway, he rolls (17+2) = (19) The Thugs Will Save, collective :(7) = (7) success. So...Combat Ends!

Glad to know you're safe!

An idea finally occurred to him: an attack from above would be much more difficult to defend against than of he charged them from the horizontal. If he could get to a place where he could strike them without their being aware, he could easily wipe the floor with them. He then rapidly sketched out a plot that went roughly as follows: he would climb to the top of a shelving unit near the table and leap down from there, using the momentum from the blow to incapacitate the man called 'Larry', and then go down what he presumed to be the rough ranking system that usually grew within gatherings of humans. The shock of losing their commander(s?) would then hopefully lead to the quick surrender from the subordinates. That done, he would then use his sudden and potentially fearsome appearance to scare some information out of them as to any other groups like them. That aside, he knew full well the adage of plans never surviving contact with the foe, so he spent the last few minutes of his plotting considering how he'd escape from a turn-around like having one of his strike's blocked. Jumping with eerie silence onto a nearby shelf, he avoided climbing and simply jumped from one third of the way up the rack to the top, then leaped from one rack to the next until he was practically overhead the table. Then, gathering himself into a spring he set his heels against the shelf, recalled his plans, and launched himself at the man with blue hair.

Master Plan check, DC 10 as always (11+7) = (18) Excellent! KoS's Stealth check, (7+10) = (17) +2 due to Master Plan so 19. The Thug Minions' collective Notice check(gonna get this moving along, staid still long enough!) (15) = (15) Great! Now the Acrobatics check, DC 10, to get closer to the table. (2+6 = (8) +2 due to Master Plan so 10. Activates Empowerment Array. So, within attack distance, so Marcy strikes! Initiative rolls will be collective for thugs to save time. Thugs: (4+1) = (5) Kingy: (2+7) = (9) +2 " " so 11. Surprise Attack aiming for Thug #2(Larry). (18+5) = (23) +2 " " so 25. Defence for Thug #2 is negated by 2 due to surprise, so (18-2) = (16) still one-hit K.O. for minion-level enemies, so blue hair is down. Takedown Attack on Thug # 1(Mike): [10,5) = (15) +2 " ", so 17. Defense for Mike: (1+2) = (3) Still surprise attack, so 1. Down. Takedown for Thug #3( Jonas) (6+5) = (11) +2 " ", so 13. Defense for Jonas (18) = (18) Misses. Jonas strikes at Marcy with his sword of magic(K?). (16+2) = (18) Marcy's defence is (13+4) = (17) +2 " " so 19. Misses. Thugs 4-8 Attack. Thug #4(Charles 1): (19+2) = (21) Marcy Def: (11+4) = (15) +2 makes it 17, still hits, so Damage DC is 17. Now for Toughness on Marcy's part:(16+10) = (26) +2 makes it 28, huzzah! Thug #5(Raphael) Strikes :(9+2) = (11), and Marcy's Defense, (1+4) = (5) +2 makes it 7, hit. Damage DC is 17 and Marcy's Toughness: (4+4) = (8) +2 makes it 10, KoS is now Bruised(1). Thug #6(John)'s Strike (5+2) = (7), and Marcy's Defense is (9+4) = (13) +2 makes it 15 due to Master Plan so miss. Thug # 7(Adrian) attacks (2+2) = (4), Marcy's Defense (17+4) = (21) +2 due to Master Plan is 23 so miss. Finally, Thug #8(Paul) attacks with (13+2) = (15) and Marceau defends with (10+4) = (14) +2 makes it 16 so a miss. Thus endeth ROUND ONE. KoS: Bruised (1). Mike: Out Cold. Larry: Out Cold. Jonas: Active. Charles: Active. Raphael: Active. John: Active. Adrian: Active. Paul: Active.

KoS Notice check: (7+2-2) = (7) Blah. Initiative check: (18+2) = (20) Yay!

I would like to use the spare point KoS has to buy 4 ranks in Notice please. Doktor'd!

Marceau soon left the campsite,wandering over to a stretch of clear sand near the water's edge and lying down on it, little caring about the small pebble boring into his back. He felt acutely self-conscious over his abruptly jolted memory, and was uneasy over what the brief spell might be forecasting in the realm of his generally peaceful mind. His rumination was short-lived due to the close rhythm of the water, which sent him swiftly into a peaceful black void bereft of fears of any kind. Awakening a few hours before sunrise, he practically jumped into a run around the building site, went into his exercise routine with gusto, and by nine in the morning had caught at least a half dozen large fish which were soon sizzling over the re-kindled fire.

At Blueshift's question, Marceau shrugged "Not so much insomnia as being out of practice in sleeping outside, forgotten how jarring sounds out here, when there isn't a constant thrum of sound to even out the noise level." He caught sight of the star map, and a quick glance showed him the stars portrayed in the sand had no relation to the ones above, he guessed they had something to do with Blueshift's upbringing. Light pollution and lack of time had cut down heavily on stargazing. In fact, the nights he'd been out in Freedom had almost always been clouded anyway, which confused him deeply until he realized that the city was right next to the sea. "Anyway, this was such a beautiful night, with the sky so clear, that I figured it'd be a shame to waste all of by sleeping, haven't seen the stars in years now." he paused to search the sky for Crux again, though this time he was so out count he gave up quickly. "Which stars would those be, Mz.? I don't recognize them.". It was then that he head the sharp, metal-striking-metal noise nearby. Having no real idea of what the sound was, his imagination was given a blank check and ordered to "Make something terrifying". It happily obliged. In a flash, he was back in Cambodia, the jungle pressing in around him like a dimly-lit green cage, with every step potentially ending in a hail of gunfire, and he'd just heard the tell-tale 'kla-chck' of a warlord's minion in the brush, readying his firearm. Unprepared for sudden action so soon after waking, Marceau's attempt to jump into action simply meant he fell over. Recovering hurriedly, he got back up blushing with embarrassment. Mumbling "Sorry 'bout that, I get jumpy at night", he brushed the sand from his coveralls, returning to his previous position and speedily regaining his composure.

Just one last post 'round the campfire for me, after Push, then ready to get back into action. ED: Thanks Cubist, never occurred to me KoS'd suffer flashbacks like that, but now that I think about it, it does make sense.

For his part, Marceau lay stretched out on the sands, arms behind his head for a pillow, without so much as a futon or a stretched tarp over him. After two years of being slowly suffocated in the city, sleeping out under the stars was an incredibly refreshing experience. That said, the nearby forest still lingered in his thoughts even in sleep, filling his dreams with visions of him stealthily creeping through the jungles of Cambodia, ears alert for the least sound, jumping nearly out of his skin at every wandering binturong or foraging banteng that walked past without warning, while all around he could hear the rumbling growls of ravenous tigers, and every now and again a flash of a green eye would warn him away from some patch of dense brush. Briefly awakening at some imagined sound, he watched the stars above, still muddled by sleep. Deciding he might as well refresh his memory, he silently recited the contsellations, tracing their paths about the sky. He'd got confused by a seemingly misplaced Crux, and was about to start over when he saw Push walk over to the fire and start in on some leftover chili. Figuring a jot of conversation wouldn't hurt, he got up, brushed the sand from himself, strolled over to the fire and sat down next to Push. Smiling politely to him he asked with evident concern "Trouble sleeping, Mr. Push? I sympathize."

While Wisp explained the criteria by which she gauged the energy needed after each teleport, Marceau kept a careful ear on her exposition, while watching Blueshift present Jubatus with the thought-operated glove. Shaking his head slightly in amazement with a look of sadness on his face, he commented to to Wisp that "With such devices all but springing from her head, your teleportation skills, your" he nodded to Push and Jubatus "Ability to levitate, and your incredible speed, I must confess to feeling a mite superfluous." He kept the dour look for all of three seconds before bursting into booming laughter like a drunk sea lion, at last needing to sit down unsteadily on the sand. After he'd finished, he wiped away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, saying as he did "In all seriousness, thank you for coming to help. This would have been an arduous and dangerously time-consuming process otherwise." He fell silent for a short time. After a moment, he glanced up at Blueshift. "Mz. Blueshift, where are we starting the next construction phase, by which I mean where in relation to the Command Center will the other structures go?"

King of Suits (how not)To Catch a Thief (Solo) 3 IC posts. Habitat for Metahumanity 7 IC posts. Wayward Transit 5 IC posts. GM Wayward Transit 1 post. (how not) To Catch a Thief 2 posts. Total this Month: 15 IC posts. 3 GM posts.

This response was utterly unlike what he had been expecting, and there was a long pause before Marcy spoke again, digesting this(to him) deeply important piece of information. Its importance in his eyes was bound up in his expectation that one of the first things most powers did was try and discover the source of their abilities. While he had admittedly not the foggiest idea how his worked, it wasn't due to lack of trying. On the other hand, he realized that someone who got powers because a certain series of stars were placed in a certain fashion so as to visible in a certain section of sky on one solitary planet was pretty difficult to explain itself. Wisp's were probably perfectly explicable. After clearing a bowl or two of chili(which flowed into him with a feeling like liquid love and charity), he turned to Wisp and said: "Have you found any direct relationship? as in, one teleport of yourself takes so much energy, while you and another takes such and such, and so on?" Turning to Push, he added earnestly "Good chili, mind telling how its made? there are a lot of guys back home who'd love this stuff."

Marceau had stared in amazement as Wisp and Jubatus dug and built an outhouse in a matter of minutes. Setting himself to the task of putting together the Command Center, he glanced every now and then to them, in evident awe. Once the Center was built, and the assembled workers were gathered around the fire, he decided to try and strike up a conversation Wisp, seeing as Jubatus seemed a bit touchy about questions regarding his condition, and he'd often wondered... "S'cuse me, Mz. Wisp, Marceau Suvou, I've often wondered how teleportation works. Is it bending space or something? most reports of it I've read are oddly vague." He took a hefty bite of chili, adding after swallowing noiselessly "By the way, thanks for digging that pit. It would have taken ages to dig a respectable latrine hole in the sand, our being past the tide-line or no."

Marceau smells like a variety of explosive mixtures, mainly nitroglycerin, as well as metal cleaning oil, sweat and vague fear. The smell of fear intensifies whenever he so much as glances at the nearby forest. Also, his beard is a bizarre medley of various scents, mainly tuna and a lilac-like scenting oil.