Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'salvo'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome to Freedom City
    • Campaign Discussion
    • Character Building
    • Character Bank
    • Freedom City News
  • The City of Freedom
    • Downtown Freedom
    • North Freedom
    • South Freedom
    • West Freedom
    • Other Areas Around Freedom
  • The World of Freedom
    • The Lands Beyond
    • The Worlds Beyond
    • The Realms Beyond
    • Non-Canon Tales
  • Out of Character Discussion
    • Off-Panel
    • Archives

Categories

  • Getting Started
    • Templates
    • About the Site
  • People of Freedom
    • Player Characters
    • Non-Player Characters
    • Super-Teams and Organizations
  • Places of Freedom
    • Freedom City Places
    • Earth Prime Places
    • Interstellar Places
    • Multiversal Places
  • History of Freedom
    • Events
    • Timelines
    • People
  • Objects of Freedom
    • Items
    • Ideas

Categories

  • Player Guide
  • House Rules
  • Sample Characters

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


Interests

Found 24 results

  1. Magic Club Room, Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, November 5, 2018 5:45:13 PM Nicole Whitfield-Hall slammed Bellios' helm on the school table in front of her, causing it to wobble. She ignored the wobbling, instead turning to meet the eyes of everyone in the room that Claremont's Magic Club called home. It was, as club rooms go, nothing too magical. The walls were painted white and the floor was covered in wood paneling. Light fixtures did a good job of lighting the room in white fluorescent and the windows were open to let the fall air in. Couches and cushions littered one side of the room, fluffy in bright colors. A large whiteboard dominated the opposite side and it was covered from end to end in Nicole's scribbly handwriting -- notes to herself and metaphorica-logic based tandems used to navigate her type of magic. The two wooden tables were pushed to the wall, freeing up the middle for the current occupants, a bunch of monoblock chairs that matched their numbers, and one table in the middle of it all. Nicole's eyes were a little bit crazed, like those of a powered up cultist high on otherworldly drugs and gods. Too much caffeine and too little sleep frayed the edges of her features and she sniveled her nose, ruddy with the cold she had been harboring for the past few days. She was sitting in her wheelchair, in clothes that could have been a day old or three. A gray sweater and blue sweatpants completed the I-just-woke-up look, though for her it might as well have been a I-haven't-slept-for-two-days look. "Right, so, I've gathered yo--" She stoppped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth just as she sneezed. Taking her hand away with a sniffle, she reached for a handful of tissues to wipe at her nose. There was a few seconds of awkward silence as she did so and pocketed the used tissues before she looked up again to continue her explanation. "Right, so I need your guys' help. And I really need your help so I'm glad that you came here today no matter what we think of each other." And at this she looked pointedly at Huang, before muttering under her breath. "Jerkass." Then she continued, tapping at the helm on the table. The helm gleamed a bright red and their faces were reflected on its purple-tinted visor. "See, Bellios over here has been acting up ever since a thing I did last week, if you know what I mean. Now, I've fixed most of the problems but this last one is tearing my hair out. It's honestly pissing me off and it's been doing so for two nights now. And there's no way I'm going to a faculty member after Summers' drumming after the assembly." She paused and shivered, having experienced how scary Summers could really be in a locked room. Alone. "So," she said, picking up again. "I think you've got the skills. Is why you're here. And the magic obviously, this would be so much more complicated if you aren't. Some of us are touched by magic through the sympathetic bonds you've created with your... things." She threw a thumb at Elizabeth and Veronica. "And some are dripping magic like sweat after P.E." And here she tilted her head towards Abigail. "You're what I got and if you're thinking of walking back out the door right now we can deal. You scratch my back and I scratch yours kind of deal. What do you say?" She met their eyes again, clearly expecting them to either agree or "deal" in her words.
  2. GM Claremont Academy October 31 2018 10:13 PM Halloween was almost always hectic night for the heroes of Freedom City, with all kinds of occult madness happening all over the city. Most of Claremont's faculty was off campus dealing with it right this moment. The same used to be true for a lot of Claremont's students but since Headmistress Summer's crackdown on late night teen superheroing most students were spending All Hallow's Eve having parties off campus. Sam Thorn knew all this. In fact, it was one of the reasons why he and the rest of the other students that made up the Hidden Convenant decided to have the ritual tonight. It made sense at the time. The school would be mostly deserted, the wards would weakened without the teachers being around to bolster them, and Halloween was just altogether a great day for late-night summoning. As Sam ran down down an another empty hallway, his hands filled with an ancient tome that felt so heavy in them, and looked for someone, anyone, that could help him he tried to remember that things weren't supposed to be this way. He wasn't supposed to covered in sot and other things we didn't want to even think about. He wasn't supposed to be alone and scared out of his mind. And he was supposed to feel like some presence was getting closer and closer to him no matter how much he ran. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to be this way..." He kept repeating those words over and over again as he ran. Maybe if said them enough times everything would go back to normal. When he finally spotted a rec room with a light on it Sam immediately barged right in there huffing and coughing as he entered. He didn't know the people in the room but that didn't matter. He needed their help if he was going to save his friends and his soul. "Please! Oh God, please help me!"
  3. OOC for this. The assumption is the PCs are all returning from a Halloween party and are now relaxing together in a rec room when Sam shows up, but if you have another reason why'd you'd be hanging out there go for it and explain it in IC.
  4. Here is the OOC for this. Hero Points Arcana - 3 Masque - 2 Ouroboros - 1 Veronica - 3 Conditions Arcana - Fine Masque - Fine Ouroboros - Fine Veronica - Fine State of the Sphere. CPU - Kinda intact Forcefield - Intact, Breaking, ? Pinions - Kinda intact, ? Electronic Defense Systems - Offline, ? Pillars - Mostly Intact, ? Outer Structure a. - Breached, No ground, Blinding light Outer Structure b. - Breached, Floating islands, Electricity
  5. The Kirby November 10th, 1:30 PM Corinne had passes to a private showing before the public launch. Likely from her father. It didn't matter, really, though. As it was a show of modern Dakanan art, on a day the museum was normally closed, but for an exclusive viewing. Of course, she wasn't the only one with passes. Other people had them and she had been a bit free with handing them out at Claremont, so even some people who weren't really friends with her got some. Since Hannah left she felt a little... lost, and really just delved harder into the dancing. Until the injury, and the setback. But she didn't have much else. And no roommate meant she had no impetus to reach out, apart from stuff for the Orange team. Right now, she was standing there in front of a complicated mixed media sculpture, chewing thoughtfully as she took in the piece that dominated the room with it's abstract representation of... something. She wasn't quite sure what. But it seemed very insistent. She wore a pair of overalls, with her daisy adorned hat, and a big green sweatshirt on under the straps, and a pair of similarly green Doc Martens.
  6. Azuth65

    Red Sky at Night

    October 5th, 5pm The doors to the Doom Room hissed open as the various members of the recently formed Red Squad stepped towards the entrance. From inside the gathered teenagers found what appeared to be a stereotypical dojo, rice paper walls and wooden floors with banners hanging decoratively. Crickets chirped softly, the sound carried on a gentle breeze coming from an open doorway within the simulation to a forest outside the building. Standing by the woods, admiring the simulated sunset in her school issued costume, Gauss turned her head back to the group. "Hey guys, I see everyone got my notes. So, you guys remember when Headmistress Summers grouped us up together, I figured if we're going to be a team and competing together against pretty much the rest of the school we should probably have a formal meet up to get an idea of what everyone can do power wise, any skills or talents we bring to the table, all that good stuff."
  7. For rolls, which may be needed soon.
  8. The De Leon Househould West Vallee, Emerald City, Oregon Thursday, November 22, 2018; 7:30PM "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen." Around the table, the family performed the sign of the cross, ending the prayer, and with the sound of cutlery they began to serve Thanksgiving dinner. They were a family of five, the parents first-generation immigrants from Mexico. A mother and a father, three girls, the youngest of which was Nicole's age (who couldn't keep from batting her eyelashes at Pan) and the oldest of whom was in her mid-twenties. The wife, Elizabeth or Eli for short, was a matronly woman who had aged well in her late-forties, bronze of skin and her hair dyed a reddish-brown. She was, to hear it told by Nicole, someone who had raised her and saved her and someone the teenager owed a debt to. Rafa, the husband, seemed to have blood leading directly to a Spanish conquistador. Trisha, Kate, and Abby from oldest to youngest, from the most formally dressed to the least, from the one most resembling her father to the mother. They shared a round table just large enough to accommodate the five of them comfortably but with Nicole and Pan visiting, the table was cramp, all jostling elbows and clanging plates. Nicole and Pan were beside each other, Eli to Pan's right and Abby to Nicole's left. A white tablecloth covered the table. There was the traditional turkey dinner, laid out on the center as the main course, but plenty of breadstuffing and a few more homecooked Mexican dishes to go with it. Nicole wore a pink undershirt. She had taken off her sweater, in a white and blue striped pattern, which hung from the back of her wheelchair. Emerald City was a chilly place to be, with snow and clouds concealing the sun. Rain had just fallen a day before, lowering the city's temperature even more. But it was cozy inside the dining room and the house in general. It wasn't the biggest house, or even big, but it was cozy and homey, with old mementos and pictures doting the walls and tables. Well-worn sofas in the living room waited for them just a few feet away as an electric fireplace heated the house. Nicole had come in for the Thanksgiving holidays flying first-class by commercial airplane and by pity or some other mushy feeling invited Pan along. He flew couch. They had briefly met before his time at Claremont, back when he had reverted to his old trickster ways and Nicole in her armor was looking to vent her frustrations on the first opportunity that reared its head. It didn't end well for either of them and it left a bad taste in Nicole's mouth. So maybe this was an apology of sorts to the sophomore who had no family to be with during Thanksgiving. "So, Pan," Eli finally said, putting down her utensils. "Nicole never told us she was anyone. How did you two meet and where did a handsome young man like you come from? You aren't from around here are you?" Nicole, for her part, was in the middle of chewing on turkey as the question was asked. And she blinked in confusion before the realization dawned on her, her cheeks growing red, thinking that Pan had no idea what Eli meant. "N-n-no, no, no," she said with her mouth full, which made what she said sound more like, "M-mm-mhph-mwo." "Whymft." And she began chewing her food vigorously. The others around table meanwhile waited for Pan's answer.
  9. September 21, 2018 11:14 AM Southside, Freedom City "And right over there's the ArcheTech Disaster Aid Southside HQ!" Nicole waved an arm grandly at the squat, old building that sat at the corner of two avenues. It was rendered in a red-bricked style, as if it were from another century, though that image was marred somewhat by the the graffiti spray painted on its walls. Most of it were painted over but what Ajasoro could make out hinted at small-time gang signs, rude messages railing against the authorities, and cussing aimed at those '****ing aliens'. Buildings all along the area were in similar straits, faded in color and lacking in life. Down the street, only one store remained open amid all the shutter-closed stores, a mom-and-pop pharmacy where a man was smoking a cigarette beside the doorway. With a screech of tires on asphalt and its doors still open, the bus Nicole and Ajasoro had taken sped away as if it was eager to get to its next stop in record time. The two girls were the only souls in the bus stop, and it was nearing noon, a time that for all purposes should have brought busy streets and crowds, though they could only hear those city sounds in the distance. It could have been another world for all that they were alone. They were only at the outskirts of the Southside, where the west of Lincoln blended into eastern Southside and also where the effects of the Terminus invasion had lingered, even after the physical damage had been long rebuilt. "Not the greatest." Nicole's face fell with the admission as she began to drive across the street's pedestrian lane on her wheelchair. She wore a sunny yellow blouse, dark blue pants, and a pair of off-white rubber shoes. "Even with Doctor Metropolis fixing this area back to its pre-invasion state, the people living here still haven't been able to pick themselves up. Guess there isn't an economy-heal superpower yet." She chuckled at the thought. "Ever been somewhere here before?" With her vague wording she could have been referring to the local area, the city, or even a figurative dump of a place like they were in.
  10. 20 QUESTIONS 1. Where is your hero from? California, USA. 2. How would your hero physically describe him/herself? Is this different from how others would? She’s tall and on the thin side. Others wouldn’t see so much of her height as she spends her time on a wheelchair. She has frizzy hair too. 3. Does your hero have distinguishing speech characteristics or recurring mannerisms? She’s pretty excitable in that nervous, too many thoughts kind of manner someone dealing with a fascinating problem they just have to solve would have. 4. What is your hero's motivation? To be everything her namesake is not. That’s death, of the moral kind. 5. What are your hero's greatest strengths and weaknesses? Her mind’s pretty damn great and so is her motivation to excel. Her heart’s still finding the right place to be and how to get there but it is, slowly. She’s too prone to tunnel-vision, her way or the highway is how it usually goes. 6. What does your hero love? What does your hero hate? He loves the feel of oil on her fingers, working magic late into the night. She loves making the world a better place through the things she creates. She hates people who make the other people suffer and knows it. 7. How would you describe your character's mental and emotional state? Mentally, she’s in a great place. She’s like a sponge, always absorbing and revising information. Emotionally, she’s got something to prove to everyone out there but herself most of all. 8. What does your hero fear the most? Being insignificant. Failing. Making a fool out of herself. 9. What is your character's greatest ambition? To become the very best. Seriously, the very best. 10. How does your hero feel about the state of the world and his/her place in it? It’s a crappy place all things considered. It’s the reason why people have to come together and do something about it. But that’s just a pipe dream, really. It makes the efforts of those who do more precious. 11. Does your hero have any prejudices? How does he/she get along with others? She’d like to think she doesn’t, not the sweeping, generalized stereotypes kind. But she prejudices herself on individual people, like everyone does sometimes. They’re dumb or stupid, or an ass, and she sticks to it like industrial glue to hair. Otherwise, if they go through first impressions fine then anything can go. 12. Where do your heroes loyalties lie? In what order? No loyalties here. There’s no higher ideal or thing she puts up with except who needs her help in the here and now. She’s not doing what she does for country or religion, only that it’s the right thing. 13. Does your hero have a lover or partner? How do they feel about the hero now? No she does not. 14. Does your hero have a family? What is the relationship there like? She had a family. She kind of still has one in the form of her father. The relationship’s a bit icy as they don’t see eye-to-eye, but they’ve learnt to deal and at least know when something isn’t going to go down well, so they skirt past it. 15. How would the people closest to your hero describe him or her? She’s confident and sarcastic but with a streak of humor in all that when she’s in a good mood. It makes things interesting, though much easier to get tiring if it takes the wrong turn. 16. Is your hero a role model? If she is she isn’t one you’d think of at first. She’s no Centurion or Martin Luther King, that’s for sure. She’s a kid, a teenager, finding her way in this world by smashing through it at Mach 5 speeds. 17. How spiritual is your hero? Does your hero follow a relgious tradition? She isn’t spiritual. Zero. Nope. Never was and never will. Not even the higher powers that mages evoke sometimes get to hold any awe on her save for the academic and a source of magic. 18. Is your hero part of a team, or would he/she like to be? Why? She isn’t part of a team. She would like to be part of something, be with heroes who can work well together. The journey’s easier when you’ve got others to share it with. Right now, those are her friends in Claremont who share her… hobby. 19. How does your hero feel about the place of metahumans and aliens on Earth? It’s great. It’s all great. Part and parcel of the world she lives in and so she doesn’t see anything abnormal about them. But she tries to find how to turn those things into something useful and good society can use. 20. If you could give one piece of advice to your hero, what would it be? Hey, how about a trip to another country to relax and see the sights? An extended one too. Let your guard down and how about stop being so stubborn for a change? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, stop treating this like a 100-meter sprint and more like a marathon.
  11. September 8th, Saturday, 2018, early evening The Starlight Room, Midtown, Freedom City It was with all possible grace that a green dragon as tall as an elephant flared into being. Blue-red fire snapped and hissed across its body and its two mighty wings, which it flapped once to waft out the lingering flame. This act revealed two people sheltered under its wings, one of which was a tall young man with close-cut black hair, golden eyes and livid white scars from under his eyes to his jaw. He looked quite at ease, smiling reassuringly to the shocked and frozen staff and waiting guests just recovering from the appearance of the dragon. "Good evening. Party of two, name of Leroy Ransom-Conte and Nicole Whitfield-Hall," he told the burly, Biblically-bearded old man behind the desk, his seat framed by murals of the constellations, "my dragon will not be joining us." The creature looked at him very sharply for that. Blinking once, the old man said in a deep gloomy voice "Delighted to have you, sir." The man looked up at the boy, taking in the unfamiliar sight with no little wariness. The boy was dressed in rich blue tunic, trousers and robe with silver patterns suggesting roses or possibly eyes. He also, to the faint confusion of the man behind the desk, wasn't wearing shoes or socks, instead just a pair of ornate silver sandals. "Please wait to be seated, service will be here presently." Patting the dragon on the flank, Leroy murmured "Be close, keep watch." "Gild the lily, why don't you?" the dragon said, but he was already fading into another burst of heatless fire. The entry to the Starlight Room was hundreds of feet above Freedom City, with panoramic bay windows giving a breathtaking view of the sea, the hills and forests and rivers surrounding it. Light was fading behind the mountains far in the west, a dim orange-pink line receding before a tide of blue and black and farther stars. Light pollution was as bad in Freedom as anywhere else densly populated, but out the windows and across the sprawling domed ceiling of the Starlight Room blazed countless billions of stars. They were just images on a screen, one synced with real Earth-time to show an accurate picture of what the Lenape and early colonists had seen in the sky so many centuries ago. To add to the effect, the lights were kept low and in cool blue tones. Entry into the Starlight Room proper was up a flight of broad, gentle steps marked with the phases of the Moon from full to new and through a a set of doors decorated with the Pleiades, the lights cunningly set so looking directly at them hid them from view. The foyer itself was decorated so all color seemed to be fading into the floor, the walls in black snd silver, the floor and base of various objects like the lamps, chairs and the desk colored in orange, deep purple and faint pink. Only the bright red 'EXIT' sign by the emergency starway broke from the theme. Stepping over to his fellow passenger, Leroy beamed, his voice uncharacteristically-hushed as he said "How was the teleport? Sorry to say Dio is still young, but he learns swiftly." He smiled "Certainly bests waiting in an elevator."
  12. September 4, 2018 Claremont Academy (Fourth Floor, Rita Kord Dorm) Jaycee had suggested they meet people before the assembly. "The first time you meet somebody, you set the tone for the whole rest of your relationship. If I meet them now, when Ah want to and on mah terms, that'll make it easier to stay in control. And Ah gotta stay in control, right?" It was actually one of the most perspicacious things Ashley had ever heard her charge say - and certainly the longest string of words she'd put together since a recently-drained Jaycee had parted company with the bulk of her Secret Service detail at an undisclosed location and headed onto Claremont's campus that weekend. They'd come in early, before any of the other students arrived, and Jaycee had spent most of her time in her room studying and texting to her sisters. And so it was that the "sisters" headed out into the fourth floor hallway, Ashley taking the lead as she would for the next two years. Jesus Christ, she took a moment to think before she took in the scenery. 410 was down at the end of one hall on the fourth floor, with 409 and 411 on either side a little further towards the main staircase. There were backstairs too, of course, and escape hatches that the sophomore students probably weren't going to find out about yet. Ashley was dressed for her part in a leather jacket, denim shirt, and scuffed jeans. She'd told her handlers that the pink dye in her hair cut down on the "look" she was trying to present, but they'd told her it would soften her image. By which they mean not make me look like a lesbian. She contemplatively chewed a toothpick as she scanned the hall, then took a look back at Jaycee as she closed the door behind her. "Judy" Smith didn't look much at all like her First Daughter self - with her long hair loose and hanging down her back, in baggy brown shirt and slacks that had made her make a single small noise at the sight of them, she looked like one of the refugees they were pretending to be. She was smiling the smile of someone who'd had media training, though, as she ran her fingers against the gold cross she wore around her neck. That was new too; a gift from the First Lady that nobody had seen in public yet. "Well?" It was true - Ashley had to lead the way on this one. She headed down the corridor, looking for open doors - or the sounds of activity inside them.
  13. Cubismo

    Roomies!

    August 29, 2018 Claremont Academy (Rita Kord Dorm, Room 411) To say getting into Clarement Academy on move-in day could be hectic was possibly the grandmother of all understatements. The Rita Kord dorm had become a storm of activity. Students both new and returning were coming in and out of its walls in all manner of directions and methods. Speedsters were racing to get to their rooms, teleporters were popping in and out with their supplies, phasers nonchalantly passing through walls and people, flyers attempting to avoid the congestion on the floor only find out they weren't the only one's with that idea. In a word, it was chaos. And Astrid loved it. Easily holding a massive overstuffed duffel bag in one hand and her favorite guitar in the other, Astrid made her way through all the madness with a grin on her face. Asgard had been chaotic too, but there was a sameness to all that wonder. As strange as seeing giants, valkyries, dwarves and gods together was they all kind of clicked to together to make a whole that had its own internal logic and theme. Claremont, on the other hand, was just plain mad in Astrid's eyes. Everything and everyone seemed to keep from different worlds, each with its own unique theme. The school was diverse in the truest sense of the word, with super-geniuses, mutants, aliens, Atlanteans, and yes, Asgardians walking around every which way. Despite it all Astrid felt a there was sense of koselig here, a feeling of cozy belonging that permeated across the whole dorm as she made her way through it. It might have just been wishful thinking, but Astrid's gut told her it was genuine. When she finally made it to her new home in Room 411 she broke the dorm room in by causally flicking her duffel bag to one of the room's beds and gently putting her guitar there as well. Astrid was told that she would have a roomie to share the dorm with. Was it a Nicole Whitfield-Hall or a Nicole Whitefield-Hall? As Astrid began to unzip her duffel bag and unpack she wondered what kind of person this Nicole was. Looking at her guitar for a moment, Astrid certainly hoped she was someone who liked heavy metal.
  14. GM Tuesday, July 11th, 2018 The North End, Freedom City 3:44 PM Nothing. Even after several hours straight of observing, theorizing, and experimenting Dr. Eliot Westermen couldn’t figure out the Nexus Problem. He knew he had everything he needed to figure it out. ASTRO Labs was one of the greatest scientific facilities on the planet. They had reliable information on the paraphysics of the Cosmic Coil, access to salvaged Terminus tech and even an intact Omegadrone corpse for study. This should be easy. He should be able to see where everything connected. How this new portal system worked and how it could be deactivated. Westerman put his forehead against his chalkboard board and signed. “But you can’t, West. They’re right. This is beyond you. Beyond any of us.” It took him a minute to really grapple with that. To finally put his pride aside and admit the truth. “Chakwas couldn’t do. Oladeyle couldn’t do it. And you can’t either. They were right, we need outside help. A fresh pair of eyes to look at this nonsense.” Westerman had sworn that it wasn’t necessary. That the heroes needed to be out there helping people instead of slumming it with the eggheads. That if he had just a few more hours he could crack the Nexus Problem and stop the invasion. No one believed him. Senior expert on Terminus Tech and Paraphysics be damned. They put out the call for help about a couple of hours. Any heroes with an advanced knowledge of “exotic” technologies were asked to come to ASTRO Labs and help figure out how to dismantle the portal network that allowed the invaders to send wave after wave of monsters to wreak havoc on Freedom City. Westerman didn’t have to look at his watch to tell that the heroes would be in the “War Room,” as the scientists had started to call their primary laboratory working on the Nexus Problem, in a few minutes. Perks of being a super-genius he guessed, you get a great internal clock. That put a smile on his face. Westerman couldn’t remember the last time he smiled since the invasion began. Moving away from the chalkboard, he took a seat in one of the rolling chairs scattered across the lab and tried to relax. The lab was a mess. On all four sides of it there was notes, files, tech, empty coffee cups and lab gear scattered everywhere. Not to mention one scary looking Omegadrone on a medical table. Westerman didn’t look much better. Lack of sleep does that. The heroes would be here soon and Westerman knew he had to be at his best to get them up to speed on what little he and the others had figured out and answer any questions they may have.
  15. There is nothing quite like a good book. A good story, with well developed characters and an enticing premise. You learn to love and relate to the protagonist and learn to hate and despise the villain. Yes, there isn't anything quite like a good book and many people can easily find themselves lost in the world of the pages. Sometimes though a good book is too hard to put down... Calling @Zeitgeist Blue and @Exaccus
  16. OOC thread for this thread. The ur-haunted house, go get that file! @Supercape @Tiffany Korta @Zeitgeist Blue Knowledge rolls, preferably Current Events, Arcane Lore, Technology and Pop Culture.
  17. GM 1st January, 2018, 4.45PM Emerald City, Oregon, United States of America, Earth-Prime By the time everyone was where they had to be, night was already fallen. For those used to rising with the eastern Sun and seeing it vanish behind the distant western mountains, it was a faint shock to see that old stalwart's final moments, dragged slowly into the cold, grey mists of the Pacific. In its place a vibrant silver supermoon glared down, stark light reflected from the agless stone mirror. The world was light and shadow, the forbidding mass of the Elysian Forest brooding just beyond the flashing police lights and the searchlights of the near-noiseless choppers and drones hovering overhead. By comparison, the horror show that had burst into being that morning was a comforting reminder of normalcy. Never a very large building, or more than meekly grand, Bethlehem Heights Mental Hospital & Historical Society crouched atop its high and lonely hill like a forgotten child of the gleaming silver-green metropolis just a mile away. What remained of its classic Young Victorian design was covered in spiked and grisly chains that gleamed in the ruddy light spilling from the occluded windows. Only its front door was open, and then just a crack, revealing nothing. If you listened, very hard, the sea breeze coming in off the bay sounded remarkably like you were shrieking in purest agony. At 7.28AM, Pacific time, Mayor Amanda Talbot had made a general call for assistance on national television, radio and internet channels. The directness and candor of it had been a surprise, referring to a "deadly paranormal entity" that "has already claimed the lives of twelve dear friends in the Emerald City Police Department." Usually, you couldn't even get a straight answer about where all the homeless people kept vanishing to. Captain David Wrath, sweaty and wide-eyed, greeted them at the edge of the police cordon, stepping through the simple holographic "tape" to give them a fervent handshake. He was a big man, built like a bison with a mustache like a square bracket, but at that time under that cold cosmic stare, he looked as small as could be. "Wrath, ECPD, do you know what this is?" He pointed one brawny arm covered in carbon fiber armor at the dismal thing silhouetting dozens of officers in the blue and green of Columbia's Keenest. The low brick wall that wouldn't keep out a determined cat was more than enough of a barrier for the people milling behind it. "That place took twenty of us before we pulled back at 5 this morning. They walked in, and...just vanished. Not even a scream over the radio. Gone." Wiping his steaming forehead to spread the sweat more evenly, the police captain said "Tried to scan through the walls, blew out the truck. Tried to use echodrones to get a sonic picture, shot the waves back so hard they shattered the things. Please, if you can figure out anything..." he shook his head "I can't go tell Mitsy Shin's not coming back and I don't know why. Even if it's demons or something, I gotta know."
  18. Hey guys! Finally have things ready to go for this adventure and hoping you guys are ready as well. Do forgive me for making error here and there. I mainly play 3E and this is the 1st 2E I've run so bare with me. The 1st bit of story is going to be just Facsimile until you get into the thick of it. Shouldn't take too long to get there so don't worry about having to wait to play Blue. I look forward to running this for you guys. @Zeitgeist Blue and @Exaccus
  19. This is where all the rolls go. We do them at orokos.com. And feel free to ask me anything. I do make mistakes. I do hope you two don't mind threading together. Goddess of Storms Scion of Hephaestus
  20. It was a dark and stormy afternoon. The name on the sign was DELTA Labs. It had been quite a big operation. Two story warehouse. Now it was surrounded by cops and barricaded by sawhorses. Replica (masked android in search of justice) and Salvo (teen genius and power armored magus) were here because…wait, why were they here? That was odd…they didn’t remember leaving home. Or meeting up. Or even traveling here. “Thank god you’re here.” It was a police detective, clad in a suit with badge prominently displayed. He could have come right out of Central Casting. “Those two are holed up inside, and my boys couldn’t dislodge them with a forklift. First team’s on their way to the hospital now.” He sighed in disgust. “Should’ve known they were here. Building’s been empty for months. Company went bankrupt.” He took his battered hat off, and squeezed it. “We were promised some help from the LT, and looks like you’re it. Olivia!” An African American woman with a badge at her waist (who could have stepped right out of Central Casting herself) walked up. “What’s going on, Mason? Oh, the heroes are here? Good.” Mason put his hat back on his head. “Detective Rocky Mason. My partner, Olivia Briscoe. Just say the word, and we’ll get you whatever you need. And don’t worry about building damage. You’ll save the new owners some money. Gonna knock it down in a couple weeks, put up some condos or somethin’.”
  21. GM The Totality. The Solar Eclipse. Happens all the time, but why focus on it now? It has some magical significance for the Yellow Sign. Something about the Pact being weaker? Who knows, those guys are nuts. While they're being dealt with by other heroes, we focus on our daily life in Freedom City. Heroes with equally important tasks. Grimalkin, fae hero of great power. Spitfire, twisted firestarter. Red Moon, 'vampire'. Scion, former Olympian goddess. Going about their days as usual. Maybe they're fighting crime. Maybe they're trying to watch the eclipse (Good luck, only 70ish percent in New Jersey!)
  22. Sunday August 13, 7am The shuttle van passed by street after street of mansions (and family owned bed and breakfasts that used to be mansions) while the students from Claremont attempted to both remain awake and not roast in the back seats of the vehicle. Sitting in the back, Selena took a long pull from her bottle of water, nearly draining the entire container in one go and wishing the air conditioning reached further back than the driver and passenger seats. Turning to look at her winged friend Jann she sighed, "Think the park employees would get mad if we flew up to the top of the Ferris wheel? Half the rides this place has lose a little something when you can fly."
  23. Ok so the current idea runs something like this. Doctor Deoxy has come up with a fabulous new invention that could turn the farming world on it's ear, Self-harvesting Plants! Starting with the ever versatile potato Doctor Deoxy is set to unveil his creation in a small but public press conference. Unfortunately for everyone involved something goes wrong with the Potatoes as they rise up and begin the attack the assembled citizens, press, and Heroes! Luckily Mannequin and Salvo are among those attending the conference and the trio of science minded heroes can stop the spuds from devouring everything.
  24. Salvo Player Name: Zeitgeist Blue Character Name: Salvo Power Level: 10 (163/169PP) Trade-Offs: -5 Attack / +5 Damage, -5 Defense / +5 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 6 In Brief: Last member of a fallen house who refuses her family's legacy and seeks to make amends. Residence: Apartment at Riverside, Downtown Freedom City/Dorm at Claremont Academy Base of Operations: Claremont Academy Catchphrase: "Locked on... And firing." Alternate Identity: Nicole Whitfield-Hall Identity: Secret Birthplace: CA, USA Occupation: Student Affiliations: Claremont Academy, Whitfields, Halls Family: Arthur Whitfield (Father), Amelie Hall (Mother), James Whitfield-Hall (Brother), Lauren Whitfield-Hall (Sister), Gregory Whitfield-Hall (Brother), Belle Whitfield-Hall (Sister) Description: Age: 17 (August 13, 2001) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Mixed (African-Canadian, Caucasian) Height: 5'8" (without armor); 6'1" (with armor) Weight: 125 lbs Eyes: Brown Hair: Dark Brown Physical Description Tall and lanky, perhaps Nicole's most distinctive feature is her curly hair which she usually wears long and unbound. As if to match this carefree style, she prefers easily worn casual clothes or dresses, things she could easily be presentable. She couldn't go wrong with solid, bold colors in any style and that makes up much of her wardrobe. She oftentimes sports eyebags and a perpetually harried look as she rarely rests long. A thermos of coffee completes the look. Additionally, she uses a pretty expensive looking powered wheelchair made of smooth silver steel and a high-backed leather seat. As Salvo, her armor looks to be mundanely spray painted red and white, with hints of purple as highlights. Aside from that, nothing about Bellios seems normal. A repurposed magical suit of armor, while there still remains a hint of the knightly aesthetic from old legends it is as often disrupted with an array of weapons systems, limb hydraulics, exhausts grills, and a whole slew of whirring machinery that makes it more cumbersome and larger than a suit of full plate armor should be. Runes are etched in a variety of styles and patterns, some of which are repurposed from their original origins, customized step around to work with modern technology. The armor is hermetically sealed and does not reveal the wearer inside. It emanates a visible and crackling field of purple electricity, as the energy it produces escapes. Power Descriptions: While Nicole is innately attuned to magical energies, it is her battle armor, Bellios, which allows her to focus those energies into the powers she uses as a superhero. Once an old and storied magical heirloom, her work on the armor has made it something more, creating within its essence a platform that applies both centuries of tradition and cutting-edge methodologies integrated in a dialectic unity. Bellios usually manifests her powers in set systems with a technological bent, as befitting her leanings. Yet it is a thing as much of magic as the material world. Intersecting rune arrays tun electrical currents through chiseled patterns in the armor plates. Targeting spirits line up her Gatling guns and missile batteries as a handcrafted dimension, metaphysically tuned and coupled to Bellios, feeds alchemically-imbued ammunition to sate its voracious appetite for firepower. History: Seek Knowledge. Wield Power. Those were the words Nicole lived by most of her life. It was the words the Whitfield family has lived by and died for for hundreds of years, since the first Whitfields arrived in the Americas to gamble their fortune as plantation owners, since even before then as they lived like nobles in the Old World. These words were writ in gold-plated letters above every door and fireplace in the Whitfield grounds, so that each member of the family may remember the reason for their existence. The Whitfields were many and spread across the world, as befitting a venerable and wealthy family, but those Whitfields who called California their home were those who could trace their ancestry straight and true. The purest and oldest. The heirs of a legacy that was yet to come. It was this life and lineage, which Nicole was birthed to, third eldest among five siblings. As a younger sibling, she was not expected to inherit much and neither was much expected from her. She was left to her own devices, made busy with everything old money could buy. Servants in livery, the most expensive toys and gadgets, the richest food served in multiple course meals, yet she felt little, if any, parental love as a young child. She wandered the halls of the mansion alone, a small child who barely reached the waist of any adult, under the paintings of her ancestors, their eyes watchful and austere in the low light. Her parents were much too busy to take time off for her, always managing their holdings and grooming James, her eldest sibling when they were not travelling or locked inside their individual studies. Lauren, her older sister was sent to study in boarding school before Nicole could remember, and at the times the two met, they were even more distant to each other than she and James. Perhaps then, this would have been a sad life, a childhood with little friends and love, but her personal caretaker took a liking for the young Whitfield, and it was from there that Nicole had experienced a semblance of warmth from another. Elizabeth Leon, her caretaker, took her under her wing, and began to go above and beyond the duties of a servant of Whitfield in attending to her charge’s needs. She was there whenever Nicole needed her - as her only playmate in games of tea or house, or as a shoulder to cry on when either Father or Mother scolded her childish antics. It was the first time someone truly saw Nicole as more than just a valuable asset to the family. Elizabeth listened to her, and she in turn listened. She learned of her caretaker's family, of Elizabeth's three daughters, the youngest who was her age, and of her husband who was struggling with depression. Elizabeth's bedtime stories were not fairy tales, or fanciful adventure stories. They were of the ordinary, the mundane somehow made wonderful, for it was another world for Nicole. Years passed and Nicole would grow to adolescence, soon sharing the mansion with two younger siblings, Gregory and Belle, yet like her older siblings spent less and less time with them as she grew older and was sent to an English boarding school. It was also during this time that she drew her parents’ interest. She was a genius among a family which prided itself on producing geniuses, and her intelligence was obvious for anyone with eyes to see. She soaked up information like a sponge and understood lectures meant for students a decade her senior, the many lonely hours she spent pouring over her family library now had paid off, and she had not stopped. Time and time again a servant or janitor would spy the library doors ajar, faint lights open in hours that ghosts roamed awake. They were how she spent her idle time when not with Elizabeth or playing with Gregory and Belle, and neither did she feel a recluse in boarding school, not as much as she did within the Whitfield grounds. There she had other girls to gossip with, cute boys to sneak glances to, teachers to mock behind their backs. She just tended to develop a fixation for a problem she couldn't solve, or a theory that had caught her interest, and either would occupy the back of her mind, maddening and lingering, until she'd spend hours or days searching and solving, and trying and asking, until she could confidently say she knew all there was worth knowing about that topic. Only then could she dismiss those thoughts that gripped her. It was there that she came to love the wonders of the modern world, how intricate and detailed and interconnected everything was, if only people could see it. Physics led to engineering led to technology led to mathematics led to-- ad infinitum. She was fourteen when she was summoned to the Whitfield mansion. She remembers, like all things, it was the middle of autumn and school was in full swing, yet she received a phone call. She was to drop all that she was doing and arrive at a earliest date, and she acqueised. A private jet was already waiting for her the same day she had received the call and she flew half the world to California. She was not the only one to be called. Her older brother and sister had already arrived, as had a dozen of her blood relations. The next few days saw a few dozen more arrive - cousins, and Aunts and Uncles - if she was to be technical. Almost every Whitfield of any worth gathered for the first time within the multi-acre estate. It was unprecedented, and a little daunting for Nicole, even as Elizabeth and Belle greeted her home. Gregory had stayed in his boarding school in France. All of the Whitfields gathered within a vast chamber buried in the underground vaults of the mansion, and all the servants and retinues barred from entry. They were in the center of the estate, ley lines tracing energies where beats its magical heart, and patterns upon patterns of arcane sigils and stones dotted the walls, lights tracing paths safe to tread, the family's scrolls and tomes arranged orderly rows. Clearly, this ritual had anticipated for some time, and prepared for with a meticulous patience Nicole knew her parents possessed in abundance. She read what she knew, for she was not yet a full-blooded mage, could make only guesswork as to the reasons for trappings older than her grandparents, but what she saw indicated a technique that would converge every type of magic and energy present into the one point of chamber. A melding of sorts made larger than life for all those attending now as while they were all of the name Whitfield, and all knew the alchemical arts that so defined the family, decades and centuries had diversified their skills to the point of a sensory jumble. Like crossing a street in Los Angeles and picking out people of different ethnicities. Too many that it gets confusing, yet still holding many underlying characteristics in common. They began. The lights were shut off, a candle in the center of the congregation. Nicole could just make out her father, mother, then James and Lauren standing at intervals apart. Young Belle then, was not to be a part of their destiny. First, there was chanting, occult languages in different tongues reverberating through the walls and melding into one sonorous note. She does not know how long they had stayed there. She does not remember, she would admit uneasily, what had transpired in the darkness, amid hooded figures, and whispering fell things. The candle had guttered into a cold flicker, and a cackling, wet and heavy and inside. Her arms burned, and her throat cracked with smoke. She hurt all over but her legs, and when she awoke, barely aware, the chamber was on fire and Elizabeth was carrying Nicole in her arms, a bag stuffed with scrolls strapped on her shoulders. They ran from the chamber, out the basement and the mansion as everything burned. Nicole watched the mansion crumble in flames. Her legs refuse and Elizabeth carried her to the waiting paramedics, and she decided she was dreaming. The authorities would say it was a stray spark that started the fire. An unfortunate series of events led to this tragedy, the official statement would read, leading to 43 deaths, mostly from suffocation and localized within the chamber, except for one teenager that was rescued by a heroic maid. They applauded Elizabeth and shifted through the rubble, looking for survivors. They did not find Belle. Gregory would go missing shortly thereafter. She worried about Gregory and went into mourning, for Belle most of all. She was released from the hospital, a certified paraplegic, to Elizabeth and her family in the meantime, who were her legal guardians now. She saved what she could from the remains of her family's capital. The vultures had picked at everything long before she left the hospital. Through means legal and not so legal, her family's once vast fortune had dwindled, taken by rivals, and those seeking revenge or restitution. And perhaps it was for the best. She had canceled her boarding school. There was an itch her brain could not scratch, and a hunch told her she would find her answers by staying. She soon discovered a side of her family that sickened her. They were corrupt, and perhaps that was not a revelation with how rich they were, but in their dealings lives were lost and ruined with the act of a single handshake, and people killed from one spoken word of her parents. She dug into the books, into the diaries and records saved from the fire. She talked to the lawyers and phoned business partners overseas. The Californian Whitfields had its hand in every pie in the city, state, and a significant number in the country and beyond. Oil spill cover ups, land siezures from the poor, money laundering, arms trafficking, financing the local Mafia, and shaking hands with Mexican cartels. The Whitfields were far worse among the magical community, yet just as insidious, where an overarching authority non-existent. It was a headache to have it all revealed and heaped upon her in a short time, and she cut every connection she could and gave all she could to the authorities. As the only Whitfield left, she had that right, even if many of her family's erstwhile partners did not see it her way. She walked -- rolled rather -- the streets now, instead of the halls of a mansion or an elite boarding school in a far-off country. They were concrete and now, and she couldn't ignore what was in front of her, even as her magic began to die a slow death for no discernible reason. Seek Knowledge. Wield Power. Her family had its reasons for everything they've done, excuses more like. But it was something to say to let them sleep at night, and she couldn't say they were deluded. Not when those reasons almost felt right, like this was just the natural state of the world. The strong prey on the weak. Predators eat. Prey flee. Humans fought wars and died and gave birth. And Whitfields learned and gathered. She woke up one night as she felt eyes watching her. Bellios stood at the foot of her bed, unscathed. Her powers were all but dead by then, and when she had attempted to wear the armor, the recurring psychic backlash left her sick and vomiting food for a week. By the coaxing of Elizabeth, she decided to fly to Freedom City and resume her schooling. She was frustrated and without hope, disgusted by her family's activities - a useless feeling, lugging an armor that did nothing but make her ill. Still, perhaps she could find a solution in the city of heroes and start anew, far away from the death of her family and the toxic they left. So she transferred half the money she had inherited with Elizabeth and her family, as much as it was a pittance compared to what her family once held, it was a large sum for them and it felt like the right thing to do to thank them for everything. She flew out the next day. She was eligible for Claremont, if just barely, and wasn't that cute. For a whole year she was the most useless student to grace its halls. Stuck in a wheelchair and magic that fizzled pathetically, if she could even get it to work, she would have been kicked out if it weren't for her intelligence and ability to create tech and mystical devices. She brought with her the family scrolls, even if she could recall their contents easily enough, and could call on mystical energies that did not originate from within. Magic rituals and petty concoctions, she knew how to make them. Electronic riff-raff that would not have been out of place in a gadgeteer's arsenal. All the while the familiar presence lay heavy upon her mind. It was the strongest pull she had ever, and it was directed in its entriety to Bellios. She let herself fall into that obsession, working for a year upon that construct of ancient arcana. She learned so much more than she would within the confines of a classroom, or the laughable practicums the teachers would give to her. She dreamed of bolts and runes, and incantations and coding. And when she was not buried within Bellios, within the confines of her work, she was formulating ways to improve it, to create more energy, more power, because it hungered. For a year, barely anyone outside her scheduled classes saw her. During class, her presence was almost non-existent, her output just enough to pass. But just before the end of the school year she rose from her fugue, as if she had fallen asleep or into a coma and had only woke up, though she remembered everything as clear as day. Groggy, head aching, her insides feeling like jelly, she looked up to take in her work. And it was beautiful. Personality & Motivations Nicole is, if anything, inclined to extremes. When something deemed important should done, then it should be done to the fullest of one's abilities or not at all. She is analytical, perhaps a bit too cerebral at times, but mostly means well, especially regarding the well-being of those she meets. She tries to be friendly, taking the time to engage in small talk and get to know people before making judgments about them but fails more often than not. Sardonically so. In a similar manner, she prefers to have all the facts before committing on a plan of action. This does mean she is prone to taking too much time when presented with an abundance of information, perhaps even contradictory reports, until someone pushes her to act. Perhaps as a way to atone for her family's wrongdoing, she has chosen to bear the mantle of a superhero, opposing those her parents would have gladly drink wine with. They were failures, she'd be quick to admit, but she won't be like them. And like everything worth doing, she has taken no half-measures. Powers & Tactics: Though not trained or experienced in fighting, Nicole's common sense lets her understand to fight where she is strong and her foes are not. She prefers to keep her distance, flying and invisible as she overwhelms her opponents through judicious use of firepower. When hemmed in or grounded, she will attempt to cut her way free from the fighting, blasting her way out. Her arsenal also heightens her senses, encompassing machines and magic, which she can use to observe her opponents and perform reconnaissance undetected until she wishes to reveal her presence, usually through an opening salvo. Complications: A Parallel Path: Aside from her studies in Claremont Academy, the looming graduation and all that entails, and her nighttime superheroing as Salvo, Nicole still needs to find time as an intern in Archetech, providing quality yet affordable technology and energy to the less affluent locals of Freedom City, especially the marginalized persons of color. It's given her another purpose to work towards, and she takes this as a personal task, small a help as it is. She's met several people because of this, both from Archetech and Freedom City, but it does mean she's starting to see that part of the city as her turf, in addition to the magical hotspots. Sense of responsibility included. She will go out of her way for these people and places, more so than usual, even if she will not admit so. (Responsibility) Collateral Damage: Like it says on the tin: collateral damage. Turns out, holding the trigger of two fusion autocannons spinning at 3,000 rounds per minute each and firing super-heated metals in the city, or anywhere with infrastructure, isn't the smartest idea. Who knew? Nicole does, intellectually, but in the heat of battle there isn't time to think; only the surge of adrenaline and energy blasts flying. It's unfortunate, but damage does happen, especially when she pushes the suit to its full potential. Needless to say, there are consequences when this happens, even if she wins the fight. (Accident). Drives Like a Rock: While Nicole's modifications Salvo's finer motors have been tuned up, and the proper ritual runes etched up to keep it from acting up, it still doesn't drive like a second-skin armor should. Its lateral movements and fine handling have not panned out as well as she had first envisioned. Her armor's flies like a brick, fast but impossible to do maneuvers which require finesse, and her grip could crush bone if she wasn't careful. Still more tuning is required, field tests must be conducted for her to fully utilize the link between her and Bellios. Father Dearest: Her father isn't the nicest of people and just when Nicole had thought she had gotten rid of him, his ghost, or at least a very convincing simulacrum of it, has inhabited Bellios as its machine spirit. She has tried to get rid of it, but he unfortunately seems to be staying as an unwanted but essential component. Thankfully, he does seem more agreeable, seeing as she is his only heir. And while he wishes to see her alive and well, he cares not one whit for anyone not a Whitfield. This has sometimes resulted in a struggle between parent and child when their objectives conflict with each other, usually pitting risk anfthe acquisition of artifacts against her responsibility as a superhero (one other thing he cares little about). But his long term goals, if he even has one, are still a mystery. Of course, in a contest between man and spirit, more often than not, it is not often clear who will win. It Hungers for War: Bellios is first and foremost a machine of war. Its pistons hum in anticipation of battle, and the monistic links blur the line between wearer and suit. When Nicole rages, it responds with greater power. When Bellios rages, she responds by pushing it to its limits. Additionally, it is very susceptible to the appearance of the Fae. A whiff of emission from those foul beings causes in it a single-minded bloodlust. Luckily, these episodes have been rare, but less extreme emotions do sometimes bleed off, turning the well-thought out into just plain compulsive. Man and Machine: When Nicole enters Bellios she becomes more than human, and more than just an amalgam of steel and flesh. They become one, in all definitions of the word. The world outside sees one being and acts accordingly; any power that would have effected either her, as a mere human sorcerer, or the techno-magics enmeshed into Bellios would affect the whole that Salvo has become. To be able to process this, Nicole's mind translates the changes into a reality she could comprehend, creating a HUD and "eyes" to see from her helmet. Anything that would blind her, or interfer with the magic and electronics in the armor, would scramble that visual interface and all essential information arrayed within it . The Gift of Blood: Family legend traces their line stretches back to the age of Christian Rome, during the first centuries of the first millennium. During that time, the pope decreed the library destroyed. Unable to bear such wanton waste of knowledge, her ancestor had made a pact with an agent of a powerful being from another world. He would be given the ability to save the contents of the library, but he and his offspring must bear a price (or a blessing as the official version states), and a destiny to be fulfilled long after his death. Whatever the truth is, Nicole and those of her blood possess, without fail, a compulsion. Knowledge, especially forbidden knowledge, is the sweetest water, and she occasionally finds herself using her powers to fulfill her family's quest. While none of her episodes have reached the two years working on Bellios, many smaller episodes are still smaller occurences, particularly during her heightened magical state while using her armor. Nicole's obsession has her pursue information above all else, usually by absent-mindedly hacking into databases when she is in the suit, though there are many other ways she may go about this. These seem like good ideas at the time, but done at the wrong time, and with the wrong systems, and a slip-up may land her in serious trouble. (Obsession) The Sins of Family: Ever since finding out about her family's unsavory secrets, Nicole has endeavored to do good where they would do wrong. Still, there are those who see her as nothing more than the last Whitfield or a foolish girl. Most see her as no better than those bearing the same name. Yet some would go out of their way to rid her for revenge or opportunity. While there are enough in the mundane world, it is the magical community who has suffered the most from her family's excesses. As few and isolated as they are, they have long memories. And many ways to trace magic signatures. Whitfields and Halls, they say, are particularly distinct. (Enemy and Reputation) This Magic of Mine: Her magic isn't so hot when outside Bellios, understatement of the year, but her armor does act as a focus for her magic, heightening it into a weapon of mass destruction. While most of her inner energy transfers seamlessly into its various systems, a leak is unavoidable sometimes, and a once controllable yet feeble magic turns uncontrollable and potent; a combination that's often bad news. Though she may choose to hold it inside for a time, risking her magic's side-effects, she must eventually discharge the surge of power. A badly-timed spike, or an unwanted manifestation of that magic, could turn the tables very quickly. Not always for the better. Abilities: 0 - 2 + 0 + 14 + 0 + 0 = 12PP Strength: 18/10 (+4/0) Dexterity: 8 (-1) Constitution: 20/10 (+5/0) Intelligence: 24 (+7) Wisdom: 10 (+0) Charisma: 10 (+0) Combat: 6 + 5 = 11PP Initiative: +3/-1 (-1/-1 Base, +4/+0 Improved Initiative) Attack: +3 Base, +3 Melee, +3 Ranged, +5 Weapons Suite Array [+9 Containment Foam, +10 Missile Batteries, +11 Energy Vent] Grapple: +18/4/0 Defense: +5/3 (+3/2 Base, +2/1 Dodge Focus), +1 Flat-Footed Knockback: -7/2 Saving Throws: 0 + 0 + 0 = 0PP Toughness: +15/5 (+5/0 Con, +10 Protection or +5 Forcefield) Fortitude: +10/0 (+5/0 Con, +5) Reflex: +6/-1 (-1 Dex, +7) Will: +8/0 (+0 Wis, +8) Skills: 80R = 20PP Bluff 1 (+1) Concentration 2 (+2) Computers 8 (+15) Craft (Artistic) 1 (+8) Craft (Chemical) 5 (+12) Craft (Electronic) 8 (+15) Craft (Mechanical) 5 (+12) Diplomacy 2 (+2) Disable Device 6 (+13) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 8 (+15) Knowledge (Art) 1 (+8) Knowledge (Current Events) 2 (+9) Knowledge: Cosmology 4 (+11) Knowledge (History) 3 (+10) Knowledge (Physical Science) 5 (+12) Knowledge (Technology) 8 (+15) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 3 (+10) Language 2 (English, French, Spanish) Notice 3 (+3) Search 2 (+9) Sense Motive 2 (+2) Feats: 8PP Artificer Benefit (Wealth) Eidetic Memory Inventor Luck Online Research Ritualist Well-Informed Powers: 3 + 2 + 113 + 1 = 119PP Device 1 (Wheelchair, Tech; 5DP; Extra Effort [Device]; Drawbacks: Power Loss [Cannot use in Bellios armor]) [3PP] Descriptors: All (Hermetic) Magic and Technology combined. Magitech. Forcefield 5 (Extras: Duration [Continuous [+1]; Flaws: Ablative [-1]) [5DP] Device 1 (Eyeglasses, Magical, Tech; 5DP; Extra Effort [Device]; Drawbacks: Power Loss [Cannot use in Bellios armor]) [2PP] Descriptors: All (Hermetic) Magic and Technology combined. Magitech. Sensory Suite Array 2 (4PP Array; Feats: Alternate Powers 1) [5DP] BE: Super-Senses 4 (Radar [+3]; Radar [Enhancements: Accurate (+0), Acute (+0), Ranged (+1)]) {4/4} AP: Super-Senses 4 (Mental [Magic] Awareness [+3]; Awareness [Enhancement: Ranged (+1)]) {4/4} Bellios 28 (Battlesuit, Magical, Tech; 140DP Alternate Form/Device; Extra Effort [Device]; Feats: Restricted [Beings with Magic]) [113PP] Descriptors: All (Hermetic) Magic and Technology combined. Magitech. Protocol Sy 8.4 (42PP Container) [42DP] Enhanced Strength 8 [8DP] Enhanced Constitution 10 [10DP] Enhanced Combat 1 (Defence 1) [2DP] Enhanced Saves 20 (Fortitude 5, Reflex 7, Will 8 [20DP] Enhanced Feats 2 (Attack Specialization (Weapons Suite), Dodge Focus, Improved Initiative) [3DP] Communications 4 (Radio, 1 mile; Extras: Area; Flaws: Action [Move]; Feats: Selective, Subtle) [6DP] Hexagrammic Paneling 3.8 (19PP Container) [19DP] Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9DP] Protection 10 [10DP] Sensory Suite Array 5.5 (11PP Array; Feats: Alternate Powers 2) [13DP] BE: Super-Senses 9 (Direction Sense [+1], Distance Sense [+1], Radio [+1], Radar [+3]; Radar [Enhancements: Accurate (+0), Acute (+0), Analytical (+1), Extended 2 [1,000 ft] (+2), Radius (+1), Ranged (+1)]) {11/11} AP: Super-Senses 9 (Mental [Magic] Awareness [+3]; Awareness [Enhancement: Accurate (+2), Acute (+1), Analytical (+1), Extended [1,000 ft] (+2), Radius (+1), Ranged (+1)]) {11/11} AP: Data Link 4 (Radio, 1 mile; Extras: Area, Linked [Enhanced Feats]; Flaws: Check Required [Computers]; Feats: Machine Control, Selective, Subtle) {7/11} Servo-Dynamos 6.5 (13DP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 1, Dynamic 1) [15DP] DBE: Flight 0-6 (500 mph / 5,000 per Move Action; Feats: Subtle) {0-13} DAP: Super-Strength 0-6 (Effective Strength 16-46, Heavy Load ~200 lbs-~6 tons) {0-12} Weapons Suite Array 20 (40PP Array; Feats: Alternate Powers 5) [45DP] BE: Kinetic Beam 10 (Blast; Extras: Linked [Dazzle], Range [Perception]; Flaws: Limited [5 times a day], Slow Fire; Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2, Improved Critical [18-20], Knockback 3 [13 Total], Variable [Energy/Magic]) {18} + Dazzle 10 (Visual and Auditory; Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Blast], Range [Perception]; Flaws: Limited [5 times a day], Slow Fire; Feat: Affects Insubstantial 2) {22} = {40/40} AP: Containment Foam 11 (Snare; Extras: Regenerating; Feats: Accurate 2, Affects Insubstantial 2, Dimensional 2 [Magical], Split Attack) {40/40} AP: Energy Vent 9 (Stun; Feats: Accurate 3, Affects Insubstantial 2, Extended Reach, Variable [Energy/Magic]) {25/40} AP: Flamethrowers 10 (Hellfire; Extras: Area [General, Cone], Vampiric; Flaws: Range [Touch]; Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2, Dimensional 2 [Magical], Incurable Variable Descriptor 2 [Energy/Fire/Water]) {37/40} AP: Fusion Autocannons 15 (Blast; Extras: Autofire; Flaws: Distracting; Feats: All-out Attack, Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Precise Shot 2, Power Attack, Split Attack, Variable Descriptor [Energy/Magic]) {38/40} AP: Missile Batteries 10 (Blast; Extras: Area [Targeted, Shapeable]; Feats: Accurate 2, All-out Attack, Attack Focus [Ranged], Homing, Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Indirect, Power Attack, Progression [2 boxes per rank]) {40/40} Magic 1 (2PP Array; Flaws: Unreliable) [1PP] Dazzle 1 (Visual + Auditory) [2PP] Drawbacks: -2 + -1 + -4 = -7PP Disability (Paraplegic) -2PP (Frequency: Uncommon; Intensity: Moderate) Nearsighted -1PP (Frequency: Uncommon; Intensity: Minor) Normal Identity -4PP (Frequency: Very Common; Intensity: Moderate) DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 19/15 Toughness Damage (Physical, Bludgeoning) Kinetic Beam Perception DC 25 Toughness (Penetrating) Damage (Energy/Bludgeoning) Dazzle Perception DC 18 Reflex/Fortitude Dazzle (Staged) Containment Foam Ranged DC 21 Reflex Snare (Staged) Energy Vent Touch DC 19 Fortitude Stun (Staged) Flamethrowers Ranged DC 25 Toughness Damage (Electricity/Fire/Water) Fusion Autocannons Ranged DC 30 Toughness (Autofire) Damage (Physical) Missile Batteries Ranged DC 25 Toughness Damage (Missiles) Dazzle Perception DC 11 Reflex/Fortitude Dazzle (Staged) Totals: Abilities (12) + Combat (11) + Saving Throws (0) + Skills (20) + Feats (8) + Powers (119) - Drawbacks (7) = 163/169 Power Points Totals: Normal Identity: Device 1 (5) + Device 1 (5) = 10/10 Device Points Bellios Armor: Device 28 (140) = 140/140 Device Points
×