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Found 11 results

  1. Date: April 1st, 2019. An hour or so after sundown. [GM Post] April Fools' Day. A day to play jokes, spring pranks, and spread hoaxes. A day where everything must be taken with a grain of salt, even in a place like Freedom City, where fantastic things happened with some regularity. But there are some things that even the citizens of Freedom would consider "unusual." Long-time residents of West Freedom know of Lantern Jack, the spectre that haunts Lantern Hill. Or, rather, haunted -- not a spark of his eerie lamplight has been seen for years. Some hope he had finally passed on to Heaven, others fear he had been dragged down to Hell, or banished to some Limbo. But now, an eerie, blue-green light -- similar to the one from his lamp -- shone again on Lantern Hill, slowly wandering about the graveyard. Was it Lantern Jack, back from... wherever he had been? Or was it something else?
  2. Date: April 1st, 2019. Noon-ish. Freedom Hall, the city-based headquarters of the city's -- if not the world's -- premiere superhero team, had received an unusual visitor. A man once welcome in those halls, who had worked and played alongside those esteemed heroes, was counted amongst their number... and then who fell, thoroughly and abruptly. He had retreated to seclusion for extended treatment, of both mind and body. Now, many years later, he had returned to Freedom, and was filling his former colleagues in on what he had been up to. Well, he hadn't gotten to his colleagues yet. Doktor Archeville was still in the ground floor reception area, talking with Cynthia, the League's not-quite-sentient robot receptionist. He was in disguise, as a German tourist (in socks & sandals, with a large backpack), asking mildly inane question vocally, but using his technopathic abilities to have a real conversation with her via radio. "... and it wasn't until I was certain that the Communion was gone from the system that I left that planet and returned here. Well, not here-here, but here, to Earth. I went back to therapy, and the therapist remarked how my time away seemed to have done me some good, so we started re-acclimating me to working with the public. Small steps at first, of course, working undercover as a handyman, posing as an apprentice who was being shown around by his mentor -- and supervisor. Eventually I did some work as a substitute teacher, again still in disguise, getting more exposure to working with groups, proving some guidance and mentorship to them." He sighed wistfully, "that felt very rewarding, and made me quite happy. And now I am here, back in Freedom, to touch base with folks, speak with those I had not spoken with since the... incident -- assuming they even will speak with me -- and admit the exact nature of my wrongs & attempt to make amends to them all. I know some may refuse, some may never forgive, but I must make sincere attempts at reconciliation."
  3. @Supercape @Avenger Assembled So here we go! Let’s go find some sea serpents. http://www.freedomplaybypost.com/topic/10540-something-smells-fishy-here/
  4. Dutemps Building December 2016 It was unusual for a groups of people who lived in the same location to gather together to throw a Holiday party, but Dutemps wasn’t the most normal of places. First it was a castle high above the skyline of Freedom City, looking like it was from a fairytale or a cartoon but then again so did a lot of Freedom City. And this fairytale castle in the sky was home to an amazing bunch of female misfit heroes. And today they were having a party. One of the smaller halls had been prepared for today’s event with a incredibly well stocked buffet table and a fairly impressive sound system for hopefully a fruitfuls night partying.
  5. A few days after the events of Shore of a Cosmic Ocean Aquaria crouched between the front seats of the shuttlecraft, her forelimbs folded in front of her, arms tucked under her body, and back legs folded forward so far her elbows and knees brushed together. It would have been an uncomfortable position for a Surfacer - but then she wasn't a Surfacer. She wasn't sure what she was, not after three sleeps journey through the cold, endless ocean of space, not with the faces of the creature she'd seen die, no, that she'd helped kill, burning in the back of her mind, not with the sight of the burning Spectrum Knight fortress overrun with those Praetorian thugs curling away like the ever-present shadow of a nightmare. She was still in her armor, largely because their hasty flight had meant she'd left her moisturizer back on the planet where they'd started and the glowing energy field it emitted was all that kept her from burning in the cold dry fake air of the shuttlecraft. There was water, but of course they'd needed that to stay alive. She and Jessie had been able to find food from a panel in the wall, silvery meat packets that tasted dry and squishy to her but that Jessie ate without complaint. In a few days they were going to run out if they weren't careful. Aquaria had seen the inside of the ship, once, when Bie Yie had given her a tour. She knew that the front of the ship was where you steered it and she knew where the food was, and the head, and the places to sleep in. But neither she nor Jessie White had the slightest idea how to fly a spaceship; or what the words and lights that the ship had been saying to them meant. Through the windows, she could see something approaching that Jessie had said earlier was a planet, a brown-green ball that was getting bigger and bigger, like they were going to crash right into it. She closed her eyes and began to croak softly. "Oh Father Dagon, Mother Hydra too, listen to me sing your song-" she opened up her eyes and stared out at the pitiless cold black ocean that surrounded them, then closed them again. "oh-oh so far from you. I know you have a plan for me and a crooked pattern for my life, a pattern you made when I was hatched from my egg. I know that you are trying-" the last word was more of a pained bellow, "trying me. Because I was vain and swam too high, the sun of your wrath burned me. I understand that." She thought of Jessie, still in the back compartment, quiet and still as a barnacle. "But Jessie didn't do anything to deserve punishment. She's tried so hard to be a good person. I should have listened to her from the start..." She swallowed hard, an impressive sight as her massive throat bobbed. "Dagon and Hydra, I know she doesn't believe in you - but please, please, take her into your maw if we die, and remember her when you return in your glory." She began to sing then, the names of her tribe and her friends from Project Freedom, the names of Jessie's 'sister' and her mate, of her friends from the DuTemps Building like Kimber and Indira. The names of people she would never see again. Meanwhile, the autopilot spoke again in a dignified male tenor Galstandard (Lor-Van Standard accent) that neither Aquaria nor Jessie could understand, continuing the conversation it had begun with them two and a half standard days earlier. "Autopilot protocol engaged. Fuel supplies critically low Emergency landing course plotted. Touchdown on planetary surface in five minutes."
  6. Sea Devil Power Level: 10/11 (200/200PP) Trade-Offs: None as PL 7 Deep One, +3 TOU/-3 DEF, -3 ATK/+3 DMG as a PL 10 Spectrum Knight Unspent Points: 0 In Brief: Deep One adventurer in Spectrum Knight armor, trying to save everybody while finding her own place in the world Alternate Identities: Ackwareeaa In-His-Mouth, Aquaria Innsmouth Identity: Registered Birthplace: An island in the Caribbean off the coast of Venezuela Occupation: College student, adventurer Affiliations: Jessie White, Project Freedom, Liberty League Family: Unknown - Deep Ones raise their children collectively. Age: Deep One ages translate poorly to human years. Aquaria is at the prime of her adulthood. Gender: Female Ethnicity: None in particular Height: 5'6'' [5'10" in armor] Weight: 140 lbs [180 lbs in armor] Eyes: Black and yellow Hair: None, but she does have a frilly green crest that grows when she is agitated. Description: Aquaria Innsmouth looks like a typical Deep One of the terrestrial variety - her skin is soft, smooth, and damp, colored a pale greenish-white on her belly and front and a mottled greenish-black on her back and rear. Her arms, neck, and sides are covered in black and blue marking identifiable as tattoos [an Arcane Lore check of DC 25 can read that they are Deep One ritual tattoos showing progression into adulthood stopping in late adolescence]. Her big eyes are black and yellow, set high and wide on her face, and her nose and jaw thrust strongly forward. She has webbed fingers and toes, all of which are much longer than the human norm, forcing her to wear big, oversized shoes when she needs to dress Surfacer. She has three fingers and toes on each hand and food. Her arms and legs are very, very long, especially the latter, giving her torso a smaller, rounded appearance. She has a thin crest on her head that, when she is excited, springs up like a Mohawk. When angry or afraid, her throat bulges out like a croaking frog. Her neck is extremely thick, the better to anchor the muscles for the two-foot-long retractable tongue that also give her a lisp when she speaks in English. Aquaria's armor is recognizable [with a DC 15 Galactic Lore check] as armor belonging to the Spectrum Knights, a terrorist organization active across much of Lor and Grue space. It glows an eldritch green while she's using it. Her primary melee weapons are energy tridents (which glow the same color green) that she projects from devices implanted in the palms of her armor. Even those who don't recognize the armor can tell it's something out-of-this-world, especially when they hear the booming bass of Aquaria's voice from within. History: Once the People roamed all the Islands and the seas beyond, singing their songs and dancing beneath the moonlight, leaping high in the air to mock the Sun and swimming as deep as they dared to greet their Dark Brothers in the depths of the seas. Then the Surfacers came, and at first things were good. There were battles, sometimes grim ones, but in the end the Surfacers had the land and the Dark Brothers had the sea, and the People had all that lay between. It was a good life. Then New Surfacers came - hearts as cold as the iron they wielded, and gradually the land of the First Surfacers shrank, and the People's land and sea shrank with it. Then the Pale Ones came from below - enemies of the Dark Brothers who hated all who bore the mark of Father Dagon and Mother Hydra on their bodies. The People fought them, oh yes, but they had spears and bone and muscle against machines of death and pain, and their lands gradually shrank. Gradually the lands of the People shrank over the years, with some fleeing below to join the Dark Brothers in their cities of obsidian glass, but most simply dying of plagues, of swords (and then bullets) from above, and the terrible pressure of the Pale Ones who let nothing live in their sea that did not love their gods or wear their skin. Their culture shrank, their world shrank, and gradually Ocean became a small patch of blue and a few scraps of land, surrounded by enemies all around. When Aquaria Innsmouth was born, her world was dying - the last remnants of the once-mighty People of the Islands having shrunk to a pitiful handful of a few dozen males, females, and spawn. She learned to hunt and fish like her brothers and sisters, and walked on land as soon as her legs were grown. Unlike many of her siblings, she took no mates - the sole survivor of her egg creche, she was widely considered to be cursed, or blessed, by Mother Hydra and Father Dagon. But that was all right with her; when she wasn't hunting to feed her many siblings, it gave her time to explore the ocean, to watch the New Surfacers with great care as they did unknowable, fascinating things on islands full of animals, to feel the sun on her face and dive deep beneath the warm blue waters of the Caribbean. It was a good life, but hard, and when she slept, she murmured prayers to the ancient gods of her people. She was fifteen when the Surfacers came - heavily armed men who attacked for no reason and gave no quarter, freely slaughtering the People.. Hating herself for her cowardice, Aquaria (as the oldest unattached female) hid with the spawn in hidden caves to guard them against Atlantean attack. When she came out, the island was burning - and her people's community was gone, with perhaps a dozen adults left alive after the battle. And so the People began a journey, a long, bitter one, through the waters of the Caribbean and towards the only salvation they knew - a Dark Brother colony near Cuba, lands they knew that were free both of the New Surfacers and the terrible ways of the Pale Ones. The flight wasn't easy - they had to stop and raid Pale One settlements to survive and the Pale Ones rarely gave quarter to their enemies, and the New Surfacers treated them no better when they clashed with their vessels. She learned to hate, there in the dark, hate the Pale Ones for their arrogance, their greed, and their seeming love of murder, more than anything. Aquaria had just entered adulthood and lain her first clutch of fertilized eggs when they finally reached their destination - the Dark Brother city off the coast of the island the New Surfacers called Cuba. It was beautiful. The temples to Dagon and Hydra rose high in their cyclopean splendor, all dark volcanic glass that reached up to the skies, and there was food to eat and nests to sleep in without fear of attack. It was cold for the People, and dark, and the oceans thick above their heads, but the Dark Brothers promised that they would soon be reborn as Dark Brothers themselves - and could gain revenge on the Pale Ones! It wasn't until the prisoners arrived that Aquaria understood the mechanism of her transformation - and the cold heartless nature of the forever war between the Dark Brothers and the Pale Ones. It was a human sacrifice that drove the transformation of People into Dark Brothers, and she watched in mounting horror as the elders of her community gladly submitted to the transformation, even as the screams of the murdered Pale Ones echoed in her ears. Monsters though they were, didn't they deserve to live? How could her joy come from the suffering of others? That night she tried to slip away, taking the roe with her, but she was caught by a Dark Brother patrol and, feeling guilty as sin, fled without the young ones. She was one young hunter-fisher, how could she take care of so many little ones? How could she even take care of herself? She wandered the coast of North America, a solitary hunter, for a long time after that, sticking close to the Surfacers to avoid both Pale One attack and the attack by Dark Brothers she was sure would one day come to take her back to their city. The Surfacers were an endless puzzle - their cities vast and terrifying, their skins a near-infinite variety of colors, their ships big and menacing as they cut their way through the water. She met a few of the People along the way, and a few Dark Brothers not from the Cuban city, but they were all vagabonds too - there was no home here. Finally, a few years ago, she heard of something big happening -a major Dark Brother raid against a Surfacer city. Tired of being alone and hungry, she decided to take her chances and explore there, figuring she could easily blend in with the People and the Dark Brothers on the surface. She arrived in Freedom City just a few weeks after the Deep One raid that accompanied the Archevil Event (as she later learned the news called it). She explored at night for a while, hanging low along the Waterfront, a little surprised to find none of her kind here. Finally, foolishly, she decided to reveal herself to the surfacers. The subsequent Waterfront battle pitted her against the Freedom City police and her hated enemy Nereid - a foul, loathsome Pale One who laughed and called her cruel names as she casually blasted her with the very water that had been her home! That night, caged for the first time in her life, she screamed and clawed at the glass, spitting venom and threats, until finally she passed out from exhaustion. She awoke in Blackstone, where the lonely silence of the air nearly killed her. It was Harriet Wainwright who saved her, the Project Freedom director having heard something of the Deep One female who had fought the police and superheroes without doing any more than property damage and turning out to be the culprit behind a chain of petty thefts. Visiting the prison with a translator, Wainwright gradually won Aquaria's trust (the frequent dips in the unchlorinated pool helped!) and the Deep One opened up about her life. It took the long, slow process of years for Aquaria to gradually open up to life in Project Freedom - first learning English, then learning to read, then finally earning a GED, all the while doing community service work and helping take care of the other residents who needed more help than she did. She did restitution for her crime, including doing enough work to pay back the medical bills for the police officer she'd thrown through the windshield of his car in the fracas at the Waterfront. She made friends - but her best friend of all was Jessie White, a strange, sad girl who was assigned as her suitemate after several got tired of the constant baths and smell produced by the froggy Deep One. An old hand now, she took the girl under her wing, doing her best to show her the ropes while trying to put a smile on that withdrawn face. She usually wasn't successful at the latter, but the two struck up a bond, one tempered by incidents with time-lost Frenchmen on one hand and the constant low-level murmurs of Frog-Face around the kitchens where they worked on the other. They both were monsters in their own way, even if Aquaria didn't really see herself that way and was determined to make sure Jessie didn't see herself that way either. Halfway house or not, it was a good life. Finally, after years of work, and months trying to help Jessie be ready to go, the two young women were freed from their Project Freedom confinement and ready to face the world. Shortly thereafterwards, Aquaria and Jessie were recruited by the Spectrum Knights - a secretive organization of political revolutionaries who revealed themselves to be interstellar terrorists. Now Aquaria and Jessie are on the run again, hunted by criminals and law enforcement alike - and even after they make it home, the choices they made in space will be waiting for them on Earth Powers & Tactics: Outside of her armor, Aquaria relies on stealth and leaping to stay mobile during a fight. She's strong and tough enough to take out baseline humans with a few good kicks (just like the cop she put through car windshields while fighting Nereid). Versus more powerful opponents, she'll try and lure them into the water where her aquatic physiology will give her an advantage. Inside her armor, she'll wade in and strike with her trident, moving unnaturally fast with her three-bladed energy weapon. She’ll stay mobile by fantastically high leaps and even flying. She only rarely uses the lightning blasts from her trident or hurls objects at people, saving those for a last resort. Complications: Frog Felon: Aquaria is a convicted criminal who could potentially go back in Project Freedom, or even to jail, if she gets in trouble with the cops. Frog Fear: Aah! A Deep One! Archevil wasn't that long ago and the general public - not to mention superheroes, have long memories. Frogger: Aquaria is always up for something new - even if it might be a bad idea! Frog Foreigner: Aquaria's eager to learn about Surfacer customs - maybe a little too eager! Frog Family: Aquaria feels a special loyalty to her fellow Deep Ones, except when they do evil stuff! Frog Foes: Aquaria hates and fears Atlanteans. Frog Friends: Jessie White is Aquaria's best friend in the whole wide world. Frog God: Aquaria still worships Father Dagon and Mother Hydra - a difficulty given the reputation those deities have on the surface. Frog Hunger: Aquaria sometimes gets distracted and snatches up a passing bird or other small animal to eat. This is the human equivalent of stress eating. Space Frog: Aquaria barely knows the names of the planets of the Solar System - she knows even less about outer space. Abilities: 14 + 4 + 14 + 0 + 4 + 4 = 40PP STR 30/24 (+10/+7) DEX 14 (+2) CON 30/24 (+10/+7) INT 10 (+0) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 8 + 8 = 16PP Init: +6 ATK: +4 (+7 Melee) DEF: +7 (+3 Dodge Focus, +4 Base, +2 flat-footed) Grapple: +14/+15/+18/+20/+23 Knockback: -6/-3 Saves: 0 + 5 + 5 = 10PP TOU +13/+7 (+7 Con, +3 Enhanced Con, +3 Protection) FORT +10/+7 (+7 Con, +3 Enhanced Con) REF +7 (+2 Dex, +5) WILL +7 (+2 Wis, +5) Skills: 72R = 18PP Bluff 8 (+10) Climb 3 (+10) Diplomacy 8 (+10) Intimidate 8 (+10) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 8 (+8) Languages 3 (Atlantean, English, Galstandard, Lemurian [Base]) Pilot 1 (+4) Notice 8 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Stealth 8 (+10) Survival 3 (+5) Swim 6 (+13) Feats: 45PP Attack Focus: Melee 3 Dodge Focus 3 Improved Initiative Environmental Adaptation (Underwater) Fearless Luck Sidekick 35 [Singularity] Powers: 1 + 2 + 45 + 8 + 2 + 3 + 10 = 71PP Additional Limb 1 (tongue) [1PP] Comprehend 2 (speak to and comprehend animals; Flaw: Limited to sea creatures) [2PP] Device 11 (55 PP, Aquaria's Armor, PF: Restricted 1 [Deep Ones]) [45PP] Enhanced Feats 3 (Interpose, Move-By Action, Ultimate Save [Toughness]) Enhanced CON 6 (to CON 30/+10) [6DP] Enhanced STR 6 (to STR 30/+10) [6DP] Flight Array 3 (6PP, PFs: Dynamic, Dynamic Alternate Power 1) [9DP] DBE: Flight 0-3 (0-50 MPH/500 FPM) {6} DAP: Super-Strength 0-3 (Effective STR 24/39-39/54, Heavy Load 1500 lbs-3 tons-24 tons) {6} Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9DP] Protection 3 [3DP] Strike 3 (energy trident, PFs: Affects Insubstantial 2, Extended Reach [5 feet], Improved Crit 2, Mighty, Takedown Attack 2, Variable Descriptor 2 [any energy]) [13DP] Super-Senses 6 (Radio [Enhancements: Accurate [+2], Analytical, Extended (100 ft Notice)], Uncanny Dodge [Radio]) [6DP] 3 + 6 + 6 + 9 + 9 + 3 + 13 + 6 = 55DP Deep One Power 3 (6 PP; PFs: Alternate Power 2) [8PP] BE: Swimming 6 (100 mph / 1,000 feet per Move action) {6/6) AP: Leaping 2 (x5, Running Long Jump 85 ft, Standing Long Jump 45 ft, Vertical Jump 21 feet) {2} + Speed 2 (25 mph / 250 feet per Move action) {2} + Wall-Crawling 1 (half-speed) {2} {2+2+2=6/6} AP: Super-Strength 3 (Effective STR 39, Heavy Load 3 tons) {6/6} Feature 2 (Deep One, Iron Stomach) [2PP] Immunity 3 (breathe normally underwater, cold, high pressure) [3PP] Super-Senses 10 (Auditory [Accurate (+2), Ultra-Hearing], Olfactory [Acute, Tracking 2 (Half Speed)], Visual [Extended, Low-Light Vision, Radius (All Visual, +2)]) [10PP] Drawbacks: (-0) + (-0) = -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed w/no Powers Touch DC 22 Toughness Damage [Physical] Unarmed w/suit Touch DC 25 Toughness Damage [Physical] Strike Touch DC 28 Toughness Damage [Energy] Totals: Abilities (40) + Combat (16) + Saving Throws (10) + Skills (18) + Feats (45) + Powers (71) - Drawbacks (0) = 200/200 Power Points Jessie White
  7. Atlantis is a cruel, selfish empire that has imposed its will on the other peoples of the Ocean by main force. Intolerant of other gods, they have banned the worship of Dagon and Hydra, and take pleasure in destroying their idols and oppressing their worshipers even in lands far removed from Atlantean power. Greedy for land, they have driven the Deep Ones to the coldest, darkest places in the sea, volcanic crags and undersea valleys where little grows and few fish swim. Ostentatious in their wealth, they parade around in orichalchum finery and live in cities adorned with jewels and precious stones. They live in palaces while Deep Ones have to fight and struggle to survive - and call the Deep Ones monsters when they raid their cities for food! The worst are the royal family, jaded, decadent monarchs who abuse even their own people. Surfacers love royalty so they assume Atlantean royals have to be just like them - but they don't know the truth. Aquaria admits that some Atlanteans do things that appear to be heroic - but of course you'd expect them to want to get in good with the powerful heroes of the Surface. And it's their planet too, so surely they have a natural interest in keeping it safe.
  8. December 25, 2014 Freedom City Midnight Manor Late in the evening on Christmas Day, a Deep One sang an eerie song in the Midnight Manor, her body silhouetted by the darkness outside. "BUT I GET UP AGAIN! YOU'RE NEVER GONNA KEEP ME DOWN! WOO!" As her song finished and the strains of Tubthumping vanished into the quiet of what was sometimes one of many front parlors in the Hunter mansion, Aquaria leaped in the air and cheered, her smooth, wet skin glistening from the exertion of the vigorous karoake number. "I am awesome!" For their part, Mark and Nina both cheered and applauded - Mark hadn't been at all sure bringing the machine along was the right idea, but luckily Jessie's amphibian friend had practically snatched the karaoke machine up with her tongue and practically begged to go first. (Jessie had, blushingly, commented that Aquaria used to do this a lot before disappearing herself) Aquaria first approached Mark and Nina, since they had been the latest to the party - only arriving after Martha Lucas had turned in early and left her son and his girlfriend free for Christmas. "You guys want a turn? C'mon, don't be chicken!" Between Nina's competitive streak and Mark's natural showmanship, it wasn't long before the couple was standing in front of the computerized board, picking out their song - 500 Miles seeming to be an early favorite. Aquaria bounded over to join Erin and Trevor to watch the show, declaring, "Surface music is great, you can yell so loud when you're singing! And nobody complains!"
  9. The clock on the wall chimed gently, ten soft repetitive notes. In the rooms along the taupe hallway, the lights dimmed and went out, leaving just a narrow beam of illumination from the observation window set in each door. Footsteps and voices in the hall were muffled by thick walls and soft shoes, but still perfectly audible to anyone who couldn't help but listen closely. In the third room on the right, Erin lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling where a muted afterglow lingered on the extinguished fluorescent tubes. Eight hours till morning, eight hours in the privacy of darkness, unmoving, unsleeping. She closed her eyes to slits. If they looked in on her and saw her awake, she'd be taken out and assigned some mindless time-occupying task, and she needed to think. She needed this time in the quiet dark to remember who she was. They'd tried to remake her here, gave her a new name and a made-up past, but it didn't change who she was. She was Erin Keeley White, and she was lost in time and space.
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