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  1. April 2019 Outside the Common Room Leaning against the wall, the corridor mostly empty at this time of day, Watchdog's eyes were firmly hidden behind her sunglasses by the time Monica approached, a few minutes after the 'incident' out in the greenhouse. Normally she'd have let the other girl pass, but she picked up on the indications in Lady Liberty's manner that she actually wanted to talk. "Got a problem, Liberty?" she sneered.
  2. Watchdog/Daystar Power Level: 10/12 (197/197PP) Trade-Offs: +4 DEF/-4TOU, +4 ATK/-4DMG Unspent Power Points: 0 In Brief: Teenage sidekick turned Secret Service Agent pretending to be a teenage vigilante. Alternate Identity: Ashley Tran, Special Agent (United States Secret Service) Identity: Secret? Ish? Depends on who you ask. Birthplace: New Orleans, USA Occupation: Secret Service Agent, Superhero, Bodyguard Affiliations: Her charge, Jaycee Cahill Family: Phillip Tran [father, deceased], Mary Arbour-George [mother, living], William George [stepfather, living] Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003) [sisters, living] Age: 27 (DoB: April 1992) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Eurasian Height: 5'6" Weight: 145 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black, dyed pink at the tips Physical Description: Ashley is short and round-faced, with big eyes and a smile that makes it easy for her to pass as sixteen - not that she's doing a lot of smiling these days. She's grown her jet-black hair out for this mission and dyed the tips pink, another way to help herself pass as someone a decade younger than her actual age. She has the muscular build of a born athlete, with the clear physical power many martial artists develop. When not wearing her helmet, she sticks close to "Judy" and doesn't say much except when directly addressed or speaking to her 'sister', keeping most of her face hidden behind dark sunglasses and a near-perpetual scowl. She speaks English with no particular accent, though her French and Vietnamese have Louisiana and American accents, respectively. She usually dresses like a teenage girl trying to look like a punk, or at least push the dress code - leather jackets, dark T-shirts, and denim skirts or pants. In costume as Watchdog, she wears a grey armored outfit with a bright red snarling dog's face over the chest. Over that she wears a black and grey leather jacket with metal studs on the shoulders - and covering her head a modified motorcycle helmet painted the same red as her chest symbol. She wears fingerless black gloves on both hands while in combat. Her jacket comes with a hood that she usually keeps pulled up, the better to strike a more intimidating profile. At her lleft hip is a silvered pistol. Watchdog is, if anything, a sourer presence than Ashley - her helmet-muffled voice sounding tinny and artificial. Character History: Phillip Tran fled what had once been South Vietnam with his parents in the late 1970s, his family traveling through the Phillippines and Guam before their arrival in the mainland United States. They settled in New Orleans, with its heat, its French language, and its Catholic population. (His father had served in the South Vietnamese army and his mother was Hoa, an ethnic Chinese minority disliked by the new regime - they had ample reason to leave the country.) The Trans were determined that their son, only a small boy when they fled the country, would remember the nation of his birth and so taught him language, culture, and customs. When Philip was a young man, he did what his father had and joined the military - at eighteen, he enlisted in the US Army in 1989. Phillip served his adopted homeland well, fighting in Operation Desert Storm before returning to New Orleans East to marry his high school sweetheart Mary Arbour in 1991. They were a mixed couple, but Mary was a good Catholic and fluent in French - the Trans had no complaints. They settled in New Orleans East, where Phillip's military service got him a job with the NOPD, patrolling the neighborhood where he'd grown up. Phillip and Mary became the parents of five girls [(Ashley (1992), Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003)] and did their best to balance both worlds - Ashley grew up hearing English, Vietnamese, and French spoken in the household and in both school and afterschool programs, worshiping at the local Vietnamese Catholic Church, and was honestly very happy. Her father doted on her and passed on his deep love of his adopted homeland, its people, and his chosen career - law enforcement. Ashley loved her father and the neighborhood where she grew up - but unlike her father, she hoped to use service to others as a way up and out. Her way out, influenced by her dad's love for Clint Eastwood movies, was from an early age the United States Secret Service. Protecting the President, the symbol of American freedom, seemed like the coolest job in the world - she read about the long hours and thankless conditions, but she appreciated the need for sacrifice to get what you want. And what she wanted was the Secret Service and the Presidential Protective Detail. It would take years of training and study, especially since fate and genetics had given her a small frame that would make a lifetime of physical activity difficult. But she had the drive and the commitment to make it happen. But life had some curves to throw her way first. Ashley was thirteen when Katrina hit - thirteen when her father died. It was all very sad - a beloved local cop killed by a looter in the frantic days just after the hurricane, four little girls and one very pregnant widow left behind. She didn't believe it - despite what the outside media said, there weren't that many looters around, especially not in their relatively isolated neighborhood, and even those looters wouldn't shoot a police officer in the back for no reason anyone had ever been able to find. It didn't add up. But nobody wanted to hear it - especially not her grieving mother. A few months after her father's death, a month after her baby sister was born, her mother married one of her father's former partners - an Anglo man who was himself eager to get out of the damaged city. They moved to Lafayette, where her stepfather found a job as a campus police officer for the University of Louisiana - and Ashley made plans to get the hell out of town. When Ashley's powers first appeared on the Fourth of July, 2006, when Lady Liberty's appearance at the Lafayette, LA Fourth of July festivities ended with a certain teenager firing beams of golden light from her eyes and singing the National Anthem (an utterly mortifying experience that she is forever grateful took place just before the widespread adoption of the smartphone), Mary George almost didn't let her daughter go to Claremont even after the League helped keep the news of the "Copycat" out of the national news, and after the arrival of kindly headmaster Duncan Summers - not until it was made clear to her that the school was safe and that her daughter would be protected. When Ashley found out what the school was _really_ for, it wasn't hard for her to figure out what she wanted to do - she wanted to find the man who had killed her father! First came two years of hard training and discipline, learning everything she'd need to learn to be a superhero. What was a social life when there was work to be done? Maybe she studied too hard, and pushed her body to its breaking point - but what else was there to do? She had to find justice, even if no one else wanted to - or could. Ashley George's first time on patrol with the Raven changed her life. It was 2008 and she was sixteen, in her second year at Claremont Academy and honestly not sure if she wanted to be a superhero. She didn't have the flashy powers of many of her classmates, the first Next-Gen students like Bolt or Megastar, she wasn't a particularly outstanding student (though she did work hard, spending hours in the library every night), nor was she particularly happy in Freedom City, so far from her home in New Orleans. But the Raven saw something in Ashley she didn't see in herself - and so it was that 'Copycat' joined the Raven on patrol as an occasional sidekick. People who kept a close eye on Raven around the start of the current decade will remember Copycat in her full-face mask and cat-ears, the black and navy blue costume that she burned years ago. But never mind that. Ashley enjoyed adventuring alongside the famous hero, especially once she gained enough control over her energy-draining abilities to use them in the field - but truthfully she appreciated the private lessons more. She learned the Raven's "style-less" style of goju hand-to-hand fighting, learning how to take down men half again her size in hand-to-hand combat. She learned how to work a room and how to control a crowd with her voice and her eyes, letting darkness, mystery, and the occasional violent beating distract from the fact that she was just a petite girl whose superpowers generally didn't do much to make her bulletproof (except when she was fighting psychopaths who could punch through steel doors!) She learned other things too - Raven was Amerasian too and had also lost a parent to crime. Maybe it was their similarities that had drawn Raven to her - Raven wasn't much for talking. The problem was, after her senior year, Ashley wasn't one for listening - at least, not to Raven. Ashley George's break with superheroing began the spring of 2010; the day she caught the man who, ten years earlier, had murdered her father. On the one hand, it was incredibly satisfying. Raven and Copycat found the killer of her father in the spring of 2010, the culmination of two years of investigative work by the duo (both remotely and on-scene) that finally cracked after a lucky break. He made the mistake of fighting back when Raven crashed through his apartment door and Copycat through his window, and Copycat had the great pleasure of kicking him in the knee until he collapsed, then beating him into unconsciousness with the butt of his own shotgun. Ashley still lets herself go back to that moment when she needs something to get her blood pumping. On the other hand, it wasn't so satisfying at all. Paul Dubois was a drug dealer and a criminal, a man who had turned to marketing zombie powder and Zoom to impressionable young people in Ashley's old neighborhood. He was a bad man and taking him down was a great thing. But he'd turned to crime as a way of paying for his own addiction to zombie powder, a downward spiral that earned him a death sentence in the spring of 2012 when he was convicted of murdering Phillip Tran, an NOPD officer who had come across him cleaning out one of his drug stashes while the storm hit. It was hard to ignore how superhumans had made him worse rather than better, how a man who might have been able to turn his life around had only sunk further into the muck because of the gods and monsters of the world. She and Raven started arguing more after that, arguing about superheroes and supervillains, about how much good the former actually did when they weren't stopping world-ending threats. In the end, it was no one great thing that drove apart hero and sidekick, no great crisis that either of the two born 'fixers' could have solved. When Raven kept Copycat at arms length, endless tests and trials and secret drills only taught Ashley that her mentor valued her costumed identity more than her real self - when Raven kept Copycat close, the hidden reality of the superhero world showed her the underbelly of the gods and heroes - the dimensional vibrations where supers had gone to war with humans rather than protecting them, the criminals turned heroes who laughed at justice for their crimes, the Grue and other monsters hiding among innocent people, the codenames and secret identities and the endless secrets kept from a general public that supposedly couldn't "handle the truth". When Copycat left the Raven's side after graduation, it was not on good terms - and she didn't look back. She had better things to do. When Ashley graduated from Claremont Academy in 2010, she had her diploma and her associate's degree both - having taken advantage of the school's early college program during her time as the "workaholic wallflower." After two more years, she had her bachelor's degree in criminal justice (and a minor in political science) from Our Lady of Holy Cross College. After a lifetime of repression, college had been a breath of fresh air - she'd gotten drunk for the first time and smoked weed while she was at it and had her first real boyfriend - at least until he found out she was serious about not wanting to stay in New Orleans and that she wasn't interested in getting married right now. She had plans. First came three years (2012-2015) as a New Orleans police officer, wearing the star and crescent badge her father had died wearing, defending the New Orleans East neighborhood where she'd grown up. (Beyond her family ties, it's the largest American police force that doesn't ask questions about superpowers or vigilantism when you join - a legacy of the post-Katrina recruitment drives.) Eurasian and female, she was part of a tiny minority on the force - but she'd already been through much worse than anything the boys in blue could throw at her. She enjoyed the work, enjoyed patrolling the streets and keeping people safe, but nothing about being back in her old neighborhood changed her mind about her desire to move out of it. Her mother, sisters, and step-brothers were settling in fine in Lafayette; there was nothing for her here but ghosts. The laws dealing with superbeings and federal employment are complex - something Ashley knew even before she filled out her application to join the Secret Service. She had the grades, she had the physical training, and she certainly had the experience. She had to be careful about how she wrote about that last thing (given that Copycat had much more training in criminal justice than Ashley George could ever admit to having) - but her three years at the NOPD, her fluent command of French and Vietnamese, along with glowing recommendation letters from her former supervisor, turned out to be just enough to make the grade. She was young (at 23, just past the minimum age) and not powerfully built - but she had what the federal government was looking for. Of course, she _also_ had the meta-gene. With so many witnesses to her accidentally stealing Lady Liberty's powers as a teenager, and the extensive battery of first physical, then psychological tests she had to undergo once she admitted to having superpowers on a federal employment form, there was no hiding who she was. But she'd thought this through, and she made her case time and time again. Despite her powers she was all-too-human; and those powers could be tremendously useful as a government agent - she could shut down the powers of an attacking metahuman with a touch, and detect the hostile intentions of many different types of beings even before they attacked. Easy to overlook (albeit often mistaken for a teenager thanks to her youth, slight build, and rounded features), she could blend right into a group of agents until she had to go into action. The hard part was avoiding AEGIS. After the mandatory ten week AEGIS training course for metahumans working for the federal government, almost all of them wind up working for AEGIS in some capacity or another - but Ashley wasn't interested. Working with AEGIS would put her too close to the worst parts of the life she left behind, with its codenames and its secrets, and she wanted the best parts instead - the bravery, and the courage, and the principles, to risk your life for another because it was the right thing to do. As the first superhuman agent of the Secret Service, her promotions were fast-tracked - within certain limits. She was in her mid-twenties (and had only been an agent for a year and a half) when she was assigned to the White House, but only to manage the file room in the basement. She liked it there, only called 'upstairs' when the President was meeting with superhumans of some character or another (usually the members of the Dream Team), where she usually stood discreetly off to one side in her sunglasses and dark, conservative clothing, making sure that President Cahill (a man popular with his detail) stayed safe. She wasn't actually part of the Protective Detail - but it was still pretty damn good. Then came D-Day. On March 15, 2018, there was an incident at the White House. The general public is aware that all the radios and other electronic gadgets near the White House went dead, some of them permanently, for a good hour and a half. The Secret Service, Capitol Police, and other law enforcement agencies in Washington went on high alert that afternoon and the whole city went into lockdown for 24 hours. The general public believes that the incident was the result of a terrorist attack by robotic members of the Foundry - an attack foiled by the Secret Service. This is a lie. What really happened was that Jaycee Cahill nearly set the White House on fire. 'Sick in bed' with agonizing migraines, she was the source of the sudden 'radio black hole' that made it appear that every radio and other wireless signal in the White House had gone dead. In the process of being evacuated from the terrorist attack along with her mother and younger sister, it was she who generated an EMP powerful enough to keep Marine One from flying - and then in a sudden burst of microwave energy, emit a pulse powerful enough to nearly kill her family and Secret Service detail as their internal temperatures raised to dangerously high levels. It was Agent Ashley George, running at full speed across the White House lawn even as the grass began to smolder around the frightened teen (who had run, hands to the side of her head, from the landing pad on the South Lawn), who saved the day, grabbing Jaycee by her pressure points and holding her as she drained the energy that powered the teen's radiation. She saved the First Family, she saved her fellow agents, and she probably stopped the irradiation of a significant number of White House staff and tourists. And it was Agent Tran who was on point for the news of what had followed - about Jaycee's powers couldn't be turned off or suppressed, about how she needed to learn how to use them or she would die - and so would a hell of a lot of other people if she stayed in the White House. So what could they do? Could they really tell the world that the President's daughter had power enough, theoretically, to fry an entire city - power that had come from alien DNA that blood tests found in the President and his three daughters? There had to be another way. Ashley's not sure if this was the right way, though. She was desperately improvising when she reached out to Claremont on behalf of the Cahills, desperately improvising when she suggested a plan to both the President and to the former Raven - and it worked. Judy and Ashley Smith are refugees as far as anyone knows, from a world where the heroes failed and the Grue are everywhere, and the former is getting trained to be a hero while the latter watches her back. But how many lies is she going to tell? Have her efforts to save Judy only corrupted her? Has she served the country she loves so much - or has she made it worse? When she looks at herself in the mirror, she doesn't know who she is anymore... Complications: Agent: Ashley is technically a sworn law enforcement officer, but doesn't act as such while wearing her costume except for her duties to protect Jaycee Cahill. This is a complicated situation. Break: Ashley's complicated relationship with the Raven remains both a sore point and a point of pride. Copycat: Ashley isn't hiding her superpowers but she is keeping them to herself; she'll use them as a second resort rather than a first unless she needs to save a life. Duty: Ashley George is responsible for the life and well-being of the First Daughter, Jaycee Cahill. This is her highest priority - whatever she or Jaycee thinks about this. Enemy: Baron Samedi's drug empire indirectly killed Ashley's father. Given the chance, she'll go for him - minus her duty to Jaycee. Forget-Me-Not: Ashley's powers, coupled with her undercover status, make it easy for her own identity to slip away. Lies: Ashley lied about how she'd developed her powers when she joined the Secret Service. Nobody Knows The Troubles I've Seen: Watchdog's personality is of necessity not very nice - she has to play the part of the gritty, unlikable vigilante as a way of making sure no one pays too much attention to her. Patriot: Ashley George loves the United States of America and all it stands for. Secret: Ashley George is a 27 year old Secret Service agent, not a teenager from an alternate universe! Split Personality: Ashley's powers occasionally result in her copying certain mental traits of those whose powers she steals - this annoyance is one of the reasons she doesn't do it very often. We Get The Job Done: Ashley is the biracial daughter of a first-generation immigrant. Who's That Girl: Ashley is losing track of who she is. Abilities: 4 + 12 + 4 + 4 + 6 + 6 = 36PP STR: 14 (+2) DEX: 22 (+6) CON: 14 (+2) INT: 14 (+2) WIS: 16 (+3) CHA: 16 (+3) Combat: 16 + 10 = 26PP Attack +8 (+14 Melee, +15 Tonfa) Defense +12 (+7 Dodge Focus, +5 Base, +3 Flat-Footed) Init +10 Grapple +20 Knockback -3/-1 Saves: 6 + 2 + 5 = 13PP Tou: +8/+6/+2 (+2 Con, +4 Defensive Roll, +2 Leather Jacket) Fort: +8 (+2 Con, +6) Ref: +8 (+6 Dex, +2) Will: +8 (+3 Wis, +5) Skills: 96R=24PP Acrobatics 9 (+15, SM) Bluff 12 (+15, SM) Climb 3 (+5) Concentration 4 (+7) Craft (Mechanical) 3 (+5) Diplomacy 1 (+4) Disable Device 3 (+5) Drive 4 (+10) Escape Artist 4 (+10) Gather Information 7 (+10) Intimidate 7 (+10) Investigate 3 (+5) Knowledge [Civics] 3 (+5) Knowledge [Streetwise] 3 (+5) Languages 3 (Chinese [Mandarin], French, Vietnamese, base: English) Medicine 2 (+5) Notice 8 (+11, SM) Search 3 (+5) Sleight of Hand 2 (+8) Sense Motive 8 (+11, SM) Stealth 4 (+10) Feats: 59PP Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus 6 (Melee) Challenge (Fast Acrobatic Bluff) Defensive Roll 2 Dodge Focus 7 Equipment 1 (Tonfa [Damage 3, PF: Masterwork, Mighty]) Equipment 15 [from Veteran reward] Evasion 2 Grappling Finesse Improved Initiative Inspire 3 Interpose Luck Power Attack Quick Draw Sidekick 27 (Daystar) Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Bluff, Notice, Sense Motive) Takedown Attack Well-Informed Powers: 4 + 1 + 32 + 2 = 39PP Device 1 (Leather Jacket, 5PP, Flaw: Hard to Lose) [4PP] (technological) Enhanced Feats 2 (Second Chance 2 [vs. piercing and ballistic]) [2DP] Feature 1 (Cellphone) [1DP] Protection 2 [2DP] Immunity 1 (Daystar's Powers) [1PP] (mutation) Power Thief Container 6 (30PP Container, PFs: Precise, Subtle 1 [psionic senses]) [32PP] (mutation) Fatigue 6 (Extra: Linked [Mimic, +0]) {12} + Mimic 6 (All Powers, 30PP; Extra: Linked [Fatigue, +0], Flaw: Tainted) {18} + = [12+18=30/30PP] Super-Senses 2 (Danger Sense [Mental], Uncanny Dodge [Mental]) (mutation) [2PP] DC Table Unarmed DC 17 Tou Tonfa DC 18 Tou Fatigue: DC 16 Fort Abilities 36 + Skills 24 + Feats 59 + Powers 39 + Combat 26 + Saves 13= 197/197
  3. April 20th, 10.25AM, 2019 The paths around Lake Mackenzie The sun streamed down through the trees, its light glinted across the silver-blue surface of the lake. The air was fragrant with flowers, the rich scent of warm earth, and the far-off food carts. Birds sang in the trees, boats plying the lake roared or burbled or splashed, depending how they were being pushed, and the park was thick with barking dogs, yelling children and dancing cherry blossoms. On the far side of the lake and muffled by ancient trees, a fairground had sprung up like a pale echo of Port Regal's Ocean Heights Amusement Park. "Amazing," Leroy stared wide-eyed from his and Judy's vantage point up the hill, hugging her a little closer as he looked down at the scene, "playing on the surface like this...nobody without a dragon would risk it back home." He smiled at Judy "You are a brave people, Dee!" For the hike Leroy had worn the plainest clothes he had, a short olive-green tunic with black piping and the minutest little golden embroidered foxgloves at the neck, and short grey trousers with generous pockets. The thicker sandals laced up his calves looked like they had never once been used. For Pulse the air tingled with the shuddering waves of electromagnetic energy. Phones, satellite dishes, radio antennae, a raging sea of information and raw power blistered the air. ------------------------------------------------------------------- They had started the hike an hour or two ago, Leroy largely drawn by a performance his father's high-school orchestra was putting on that afternoon. "He will be absent and his pupils are magnificent," he had explained gleefully, reading from the pamphlet in the mail, "and walking to the lake would be lovely this time of year." He had turned over the pamphlet, regarding the elegant signature on the back. "Lavernius never sends me these. I wonder why he did this time. In any case, why not make a day of it? A little change of pace for us devoted scholars of heroism." -------------------------------------------------------------------- Leroy scanned the lake as they went further down. "Boats, the park, I believe that is a Carnivalé...so much to do! Where first?"
  4. April 2019 Common Room "Ah can't believe you did that!" Judy was steaming mad, heat coming off her in waves, as she jammed her hands down at her sides and yelled at her sister. "Ah can't believe you just stuck your nose into mah private life like that!" "...maybe I shouldn't have," admitted an unhappy-looking Ashley, who'd forsaken her sunglasses and looked sick to her stomach. "But I saw what he was doing to you, and I knew I had to say something." Maybe she hadn't had to say something, actually, but dammit she'd seen too many people push Judy around in the last year without anybody saying a word in her defense. Well why don't you say that out loud, a voice suggested, so you can get the hell out of this assignment and maybe this town forever! "Let's talk about this in our room," she suggested, a conversation changer that usually worked. "Oh, Ah think I know what you're going to say in there," said a red-faced Judy. "But it's not...it's not your place to tell me how to live mah life, anymore than it's my place to tell you how to live yours." She jabbed a finger at her sister and suddenly her voice broke. "And...and Ah want to be crying right now, Ashley, because Ah am so mad, but Ah can't even do that! Ah don't get to do anything Ah want!" Under normal circumstances, Ashley supposed she'd probably be at a pretty high risk of being fired right now, but haha, normal circumstances had been shot in the head and buried on the South Lawn for the last year and they weren't getting resurrected anytime soon. "I'm sorry," she apologized, hands in front of her and considerably softer than her usual tones. "But you know this isn't the place to talk about this." she added in a firm whisper. "Ah want you to go away," said Judy, raising her head and looking Ashley in the eye. "Ah want you to go outside this room, so Ah don't have to see you for a while. You told me Ah'd have as much privacy as you could give me, right? You are gonna keep your word to me, right?" "All right, Judy," said Ashley quietly. "I'll be out in the hall." Because she knew what was about to happen, she didn't tense when she heard Judy's shriek of alarm from inside the common room, just as she was stepping out the door. - Her face bright red, Judy looked down at the sole other occupant of the common room. "Omigod Danica! You were here the whole time! Ah'm so sorry!"
  5. OOC for this thread. A bright new day marred by an old shadow. @Avenger Assembled
  6. December 20 2018 Claremont Academy It was December 20 and Watchdog was distracted. Ashley was thinking of the game schedule for the coming week and which ones she'd be able to check out from her favorite DC bars, and of seeing her mom and her actual sisters again (not that she didn't care for her charge, poor kid, but she wasn't actually her sister) - and also the common room was overrun with preteens with superpowers. It was the sort of situation to put any bodyguard on edge. It didn't help that Judy turned out to be great with little kids, having admitted privately to her sister that she'd always wished that she'd had more younger siblings. The youngest group of Nicholson students, a half-dozen or so kindergarten age kids, had been following her around all day, in the company of their teacher, a thick-glassed and big-haired young woman named Jessie Lupine who practically smelled of granola. Ms. Lupine had been content to let Judy stay close to her charges, though she was patiently watching as Judy led the kids in another round of Itsy-Bitsy-Spider. All around the common room, Nicholson kids were hanging out with Claremont students, the oldest of the latter on the anxious edge of teen, the youngest rambunctious gradeschool kids running around and giggling with the energy of small children when it was late at night. There were adults here too, Nicholson teachers watching their students, Claremont teachers watching both, but for the most part it was "Christmas Big Sibling Camp!" all the way. She caught sight of the Blue Team; a girl in a Disney dress chatting with Pan, a boy with electricity sparking in his eyes sitting next to Adam on the couch, a scaly child of indeterminate gender in Leroy's company, and a girl in forest brown discoursing with Arctos in Russian by the sleeping bags. That was the other great thing about tonight - the last night before Watchdog and Pulse went off for "special training". It was a sleepover. So freaking great.
  7. Early Spring 2019 Claremont Cafeteria A few weeks after the incident where the duplicates of superheroes showed up at Freedom City, Veronica was just starting lunch when she was interrupted by Judy Smith. Judy and her sister generally gave the Dangers a wide berth, but today Judy looked burdened with purpose and Ashley looked vaguely mortified through the usual air of disdain she tried to project. "Veronica? Can Ah talk to you for a minute?" asked Judy, who of course had no food. Judy usually didn't come into the cafeteria either, come to think of it.
  8. February 2019 Freedom City All your lies exposed - two worlds in collision! Deceiver - what will you do then? The best I can! Inside Copycat's faux-porcelain mask, Ashley George opened her eyes to where she crouched alone on the roof of one of Freedom City's more anonymous skyscrapers - a Brutalist tower that had survived the 1970s, two Terminus invasions, and various other crises with no more than now-repaired cosmetic damage. The flat rooftop (minus the usual equipment one found on the roof of tall buildings) was the sort no one would look too closely at in a city full of weird gargoyles, public art, and superheroes. It was actually the perfect place for a quiet conversation, especially if you were dressed like - well, dressed in a costume that had seemed appropriate when she was sixteen, an unholy merger of the Raven's cape and cowl and the white mask of someone cosplaying as a Chesire cat. She hadn't dressed as Copycat in more than a decade. But then this wasn't exactly a meeting Watchdog could attend; nor could Secret Service Agent Ashley George. She sat - and waited for Geckoman and the third Raven. She'd called, telling them there was a problem with her mission - but would they answer?
  9. Okay, @RocketLord, Pan is good with little kids and their thoughts - give me rolls of skills you think are relevant here before Ashley does something she'll get detention for.
  10. @Ecalsneerg @KnightDisciple Let's see die rolls!
  11. October 2018 Outside Claremont Academy Her long dark hair safely tucked away beneath a Freedom City Heroes hoodie, her face hidden by a dark pair of aviator sunglasses, Judy Smith waited by her sister's side for the arrival of their friends. "This is gonna be so fun," she told Ashley with a smile. "Ah can't believe we're gonna go shopping in a mall! It's gonna be the best day ever!" It had been a long, long time since she'd been able to go shopping by herself - and this didn't remotely count as by herself, but it was still a lot closer than she'd have been able to come under normal circumstances. Ah'm gonna find some jewelry for the dance, and maybe get a present for Leroy while I'm there - it's gonna be great! Secure in leather jacket and jeans, eyes hidden by her own dark glasses, Ashley thought about the vetting that the Secret Service had done before selecting the Patriot Shopping Center as the best 'mall' choice for Judy and her friends from Claremont to visit, the quiet checking she'd done herself into Danica and Micah's backgrounds, the advance scouting her team had done of the site, the advance driving she'd done to plot out the drive to Lantern Hill, the hope and the prayer that Lantern Jack wouldn't show up - and Watchdog grunted. "Hrm." It was going to be an interesting day, at any rate. Now where were Danica and Micah, the two friends Judy had invited along for a "crazy, secret trip to the mall!"
  12. Christmas 2018 "Ah'm so glad you're home." Rachel Cahill had had to look up to her eldest two daughters for the last few years now, one of the many challenges that the Lord sent her way in these trying times. She and Judith Claudia were sitting on Judith's bed, the one she'd given up after the Incident, and for a little while anyway it was like there weren't any Secret Service agents just outside their door and they weren't in the middle of the White House. "Ah missed you so much." She hugged Judith, and Judith hugged her back. She heard her own voice in her daughters' as she spoke; the pure West Virginia accents of the couple that had adopted and raised her after the violence of her childhood had taken her parents from her ringing clear as a bell. "Ah'm glad to be home, Mama," said Judy, tears in her eyes. "Ah was...Ah was worried Ah was gonna have to stay in that place, and not see everyone for Christmas!" There were other worries too, unspoken, worries about the power that had nearly taken her mother and her youngest sister from her, and worries about how the friends she'd made at Claremont would understand the life she lived here. "Now you know Ah would never let my baby girl go, and neither would your daddy." She smiled, then decided to address the elephant in the room.. "Ah know Ah told you this before, Judith Claudia, but Ah don't blame you for what happened." She squeezed her daughter tight. "You know that God tests us. He put that...that thing inside you," she missed Judy's hard swallow, "as a way of testing you, and me, and your daddy. And if we all work together, all doing our part to make His plan happen, that thing inside you is just going to be...something that's part of you, like the way your sister cuts her hair." She looked levelly at Judy, who felt her spine stiffen just a little. "What matters is that we stay strong, all of us. You've been staying strong at Claremont, haven't you?" - "Breakin' rocks in the hot sun I fought the law and the law won I fought the law and the law won I needed money 'cause I had none I fought the law and the law won I fought the law and the law won" It was Ashley's favorite kind of bar - the beer was cold, the music was loud, and most of her fellow patrons were involved in various sorts of law enforcement. She had her stupid pink-tipped hair tucked away under a US Government ballcap and her equipment belt on, and she'd had just enough beer that she was feeling ready for anything. "Okay, fine, here I go!" She threw her dart and it hit not in the bullseye but pretty damn close to it, enough that the section of the bar that was mostly Treasury Department people whooped and the section that was mostly Capitol Police booed. The champion of the latter, a slender guy with a swimmer's build named Craig, was decent enough to nod before he stepped up to throw his own dart - dammit! This time the Capitol Police guys cheered, and Ashley said something that wasn't very ladylike, but who the hell cared? - "...Ah already know the boy's name," said Rachel, hands on her hips as she studied her daughter, having risen to her feet to address her directly. "Your bodyguard works for me and your daddy, remember?" Judy blinked at her mother's words, and suddenly realized that wasn't true. Rachel Cahill might have been reading her Secret Service files because she was her mother but Ashley worked for the US government, not for the First Lady and her husband. "Ah just want to know what you think you were doing." "Letting myself be courted by a sweet boy," said Judy firmly, "he's the one that asked me out, not the other way around! He's sweet, he's kind, he's - a Christian!" This too was a lie, even if she was reasonably sure Leroy would get there one of these days. "One date and a few dances does not mean Ah want to marry him!" "Why would you let yourself be courted by someone you didn't want to marry?" demanded Rachel. "Ah'm not some prude, honey, Ah don't object to you having friends who are boys, but why would you go out with someone you don't think you want to be with?" - Craig and Ashley had lost the attention of most of the bar when the game had come back on, so they'd retreated to the pool table for some private competition. "I've been on assignment most of the year," admitted Ashley, which was all she was going to say in a bar to some guy she'd just met, even if he did have nice eyes and good hands. He'd won their dart game fair and square, even if he wasn't doing quite as well at pool. "and I'm only back in DC till the day after Christmas." After that she was going to deadhead a flight out to New Orleans, but really that wasn't Craig's business either. "And you?" "DC all the way," said Craig with a grin. "Thinking about switching over to DC PD next year, though. I get a little tired of watching the backs of fatcats and calling it policework." He took his shot and watched with satisfaction as he made the nine ball, then stepped back to let Ashley take her shot. "You have no idea," said Ashley drily. She considered Craig a moment, then without any preamble took off her jacket and set it on the chair near the pool table. The next time she took her shot, she leaned over the table to do it. She didn't mind throwing Craig off his game - in fact, to her delight, she did. - Alone in her room, Judy closed her eyes and tried to shut down the din of radio and television that permeated the White House. She could hear her mother telling her father that Judith wasn't going to stay strong at Claremont if they weren't careful, she could hear her sister writing in her diary that she hoped Jaycee wouldn't vaporize them this year, she could hear everything, on and on, through the vast house. Some people were judging her, some people were afraid of her, some people were worried about her, but most people weren't talking about her at all. Rising to her feet. she walked out into the center of her bedroom, body stiff with repressed emotion from her mother's talk about how it was her duty to keep herself pure, to keep herself strong, as a Cahill girl, as a Comanche, as a Christian. As if one date and a few kisses meant she was in danger of falling. As if her mother hadn't lied to her face to get her to tell the truth. "Ah am strong," she murmured to herself. "Ah am." She spread her hands wide and listened to other things besides the radio - the hum of power in the building's walls, the electricity that permeated the old structure, and suddenly opened her eyes to see something beautiful. A bright, arcing column of light had come from the power outlets in front of her and enveloped her hands like warm cotton, dueling rivers of light that made her room glow with an impossible blue-white beauty. "Ah'm fine!" she called out loud even as one of Ashley's backup agents hammered on her door to ask about the sparking light and noise from inside her room. "Ah'm - strong!" - Craig made breakfast the next morning - the thoughtful end to what had been all in all an evening full of thoughtful gestures. If he was a little disappointed when Ashley reminded him that she was going to be on assignment and not in a position to call him after the holidays, well, that was just life in DC. Feeling quite pleased with herself, Ashley packed quickly for her flight to New Orleans and didn't so much as look backwards at the city below when the plane took off. For a little while, anyway - she was on vacation! When Judy called her the next day, she answered it anyway. That was part of the job.
  13. October 2018 Claremont Academy Library Down in the third floor basement stacks, Judy Smith shone her flashlight around. "Wow, they really do have a lot of issues of American Heritage here," she said, not sounding terribly enthused upon finding row after row of the old magazines on their metal shelves. "But Ah guess Ah found the December 1957 issue, so that's one more!" She looked to her team and checked off another on their list of 'Scavenger Hunt in the Lights-Out Library!' "At least turning off the lights made it interesting," she commented to her team. "Oh yeah it's real interesting," hissed Ashley Smith, who seemed far less enthusiastic than her sister about the whole thing. She had on her gear for the night-time op; head obscured and voice partially muffled by her Watchdog helmet, her guns concealed beneath her leather jacket and body armor. "Night time in an empty building, where anything could be lurking behind anything!" She was only half in-character here. She'd spent a lot of hours in the Claremont library and had learned that it was full of all sorts of awful stuff. At least they probably weren't going to see that damned ghost this time. "What's next?" Judy asked the others.
  14. October 2018 It had all gone wrong during chili night at the cafeteria. Ashley had warned Jaycee not to try anything, but walking past the doors, memories of home had drawn the girl in. And despite Ashley's best efforts, she wasn't actually the boss of Jaycee Cahill. So the girl had eaten, bites of chili verde, chili con carne, Cincinnati chili (even if the latter had made Judy make a disgusted face) and a few more bites of things Ashley hadn't immediately recognized. Judy had had a good time socializing with her friends, even if she'd rolled her eyes a bit at the cliched country-western music playing on the cafeteria sound system, and so maybe that was worth what had happened when her body had started digesting the food - and belatedly remembered that it was powered by radio waves, not by carbohydrates. They were in the first floor hall bathroom - they hadn't quite made it all the way upstairs - and Ashley was standing outside the stall when she heard Jaycee say, a little weakly, "Ashley, Ah'm...ah'm gonna be here a little while. Can you go back to the library and get mah book? Ah think I left it in the study room..." Normally Ashley didn't go fetch things for Judy - but after the vomiting, and the crying, she wanted to do something to put a little smile on the girl's face. "Be right back. Stay in the bathroom, and hit the button if you need me. Five minutes." She laid her hand against the cool metal of the stall door, then turned and headed quickly outside. Of course, the one problem with public bathrooms was that they didn't have locks on the outside...
  15. October 2018 Boy's Common Room Kord Dormitorium First Floor In the corridor, Ashley ventured again what she'd said a couple of days earlier. "I don't know about this, Judy." "Ah know it may not work," said Judy with a faint smile, her arms wrapped around a small bundle of books and pamphlets. "This is not the first time Ah've tried to mission to someone. But Leroy is a nice boy and we're gonna have a nice talk, and talking about Jesus is a good way to do that." She grinned. "Do you know how hard it is to get people to ask most of the time? Anyway, maybe he'll take me to the fall dance if things go well!" She locked eyes with Ashley, stunning her bodyguard enough to let her slip into the boy's common room without another word. Damn! Ashley thought, unable to keep grudging admiration out of her thoughts as she adopted a scowl and stepped into the room after her sister, giving a few hard glares at the boys who were looking their way. Well she knows how to shut me up, anyway.
  16. September 15th, 3ish PM, the pool. Corinne Conrad was focusing. Visualizing what would come next, running it through her mind as she swung her arms at her sides, slowly working herself up to the next step. Which was going to be tricky, she had to use her powers. But then, they wanted people to demonstrate that, so... here she was. Trying, away from others. Or at least the classes. In her swimsuit, with her back to the pool at the side, water running off of her already from the previous efforts, and time in the pool. Then came the easy part, the physical part. The standing leap into the air, before the balls of her feet struck it like it was solid, a surface to find purchase, and she then pushed off that shimming step, and away, as she carried through a perfect arch to find herself in a handstand in midair, halting her momentum, before she worked herself into position on her hands, before allowing herself to fall forward, and into a frontflip to complete the movement and dive into the chlorinated water. This was not the first. Her arms screamed in protest, but this wasn't something she listened to before, so why would she start doing it now? Regaining her bearings she moved through the water, back to the side of the pool, and surfaced, gasping and blinking the water out of her eyes.
  17. 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.
  18. Fall 2018 "A psychic - and a psychic that powerful, here with all these students?" Ashley was demanding. Judy was off-campus with the rest of her detail for now, which left Ashley free for a meeting with the headmistress. Well, for what was technically the discussion of a rules violation. "With the Dangers, the Dakanan royals, and Judy?! Why would you do that?" Callie stared flatly across the desk at her former pupil. "Because she is a child in need of an education - a child whose powers make her a danger to herself and everyone around her. Would you have preferred I left her on the street, Agent George?" "...no," said Ashley, a little abashed. "But for God's sakes, you could have warned me. A psychic adopted by the Freedom League is not what I'd call a revealing personal profile!" "No, it was not," agreed Callie, "nor was it intended to be. As we discussed earlier this year I am not in the business of trading my students' personal information to the United States government for your personal satisfaction." "It's not my personal satisfaction!" shot back Ashley, her voice rising louder than she'd intended - just as Callie was perhaps speaking in a sharper tone than she'd have typically used in this situation. "It's about national security, and protecting a member of the First Family!" It was a good thing the walls were cunningly baffled - at least when Summers desired them to be. "I am aware of both of those concerns, Agent George, and I am doing my best to alleviate them," said Callie frostily. "But my primary concern is, and always shall be, the welfare of this students and of this school." She held up her hand to stave off a protest. "I am aware that you are in a difficult situation during your undercover work, Agent George, but it is a situation that you created. You chose to recommend this school as a place for metahumans - you chose to suggest that a Secret Service agent be planted with Judith Cahill. You placed yourself on this course and it is your responsibility to navigate it. For Judith's welfare, for yours, and for the welfare of our students." Ashley was quiet for a moment, holding back the adolescent urge to shout again, before she asked softly, "What if it goes wrong? What if the President shows up at the front door with the 82nd Airborne?" "Then I pity the President who comes to this school planning for trouble. And you and I will have failed. Do you intend to let that happen?" "...no."
  19. Fall 2018 "Ashley, what is Monica?" The question made Ashley George look up from the algebra homework that she had disgustedly realized she had to do earlier that week, turning across the room to face her ward, her protectee, her 'sister.' She caught the frown on Jaycee's face that meant this was a serious question; one that she'd no doubt been thinking of for some time. "What do you mean?" she asked, even though she knew perfectly well what she meant. "You know..." Jaycee tangled her fingers nervously in her hair and said, "A...boy or a girl? Like with Janus too, Ah don't really know what they're supposed to be." Ashley had considered how to answer this question carefully. "Do you need to know?" she tried. "You know the Spirit of Liberty picked Monica, and you know the school put Janus and Monica where they are. It's not really our business what they are." "Ah guess not...not like Ah'm gonna catch 'em in the showers or anything." It was actually Ashley and Judy who used separate facilities from the rest of the girls, most of the time. "But why are they like that?" Aghhh "Jaycee...gender is, uh, based on culture. You know, like language, food, music - so people from different cultures are going to express their gender in different ways." She thought of the new Lady Liberty and went on, gesturing with her pencil, "And with some people, it's more like their bodies and souls don't match. And since there's no operation to change the soul, better to change the body, right?" "Ah guess," said Jaycee, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Ah guess Ah just...Ah mean, Ah'm not stupid, Ah've heard of transgender people and stuff, Ah just never thought Ah'd actually meet one, not after-well, you probably heard about that." She clicked her pen, on and off, nervously. "Ah never found out what happened to that boy, and Momma said it wasn't our place to go asking, not with Daddy's campaign." "The student from your old school," said Ashley diplomatically. She'd heard about that too - there'd been enough of a security kerfluffle at the private school in Oklahoma City that the Secret Service had been briefed right at the start of the Presidential campaign. Just in case - after all, the Cahills had carefully not been involved. "I can...probably find that out, if you'd like," she offered quietly. "...Ah'd like that," said Jaycee, equally quietly. "Thanks, Ashley."
  20. Early Summer 2018 Jordan International Airport The busload of tourists who had recently been getting ready for their tour of Freedom City were certainly getting an eyeful, thought Watchdog. As the driver recovered from the punch she'd landed on the side of his head, she had to wonder if the touring company was going to give them their money back. "You think you can smuggle poison dope in my city? Those kids _died!_" The truth was that Rodrigo here was a pretty low-level dealer, but a sound beating from a vigilante was just the thing to get him to lay off and move out of town. Or so the Raven had suggested, anyway, and so Ashley had passed on to her superiors. He hadn't actually killed anyone with the watered-down crap he was selling to the nightshift package handlers, but if he thought he had, he'd probably run off and do something stupid that would lead the Raven or the cops to his boss. "I didn't kill anybody I swear to God!" Rodrigo wept, putting his hands up as he braced himself against the side of the bus. "SWEAR TO ME!" responded Watchdog as she kicked him again, knocking him to the ground and drawing her pistols. She really did hate dealers, and that made it easy to put real menace in her voice as she advanced on him."SWEAR YOU DIDN'T POISON THAT LITTLE GIRL! GO AHEAD!"
  21. Initiative! Watchdog: http://orokos.com/roll/609465 6 @KnightDisciple
  22. Spring 2018 Outside Chris and Liz's Apartment Ashley remembered Chris - pretty and athletic, with a quick wit and a ready smile that had made him the subject of a whole lot of crushes. Maybe sixteen-year-old Ashley George, who'd spent her teen years behind heavy acne and thick glasses, had been one of those crushes. But ten years ago could be a long time, and she wasn't the same person she'd been back then. "And you're sure he won't mind us just dropping by like this?" With her hair up, folder under her arm, dressed in a dark suit, she didn't look like a teenager - something she'd have to take advantage of as long as she could. "I am fairly confident Christopher knows that you could find him easily enough," said Callie Summers as she knocked on the door. They'd managed to stay civil enough on the drive over here, probably because neither of them had said a word to each other once they were both in the car. "And you should."
  23. April 2018 Bayview Freedom City Day 15 since D-Day. In Callie Summers' office, Ashley George was adding up how long it had been since she'd had a good night's sleep in a bed and she wasn't liking the answer. Maybe she should have left the office, and the city, once the final arrangements had been made, giving her more time to wrap up the personal life that she was about to set aside for two years - God, maybe more. Maybe she shouldn't have had that third cup of coffee the night before, denying her a restful sleep in between images of the White House in flames. What could have happened, what might have happened. Ashley George, the biggest hero no one in Washington was ever going to talk about. Silence had fallen in the headmistress's office, in between the ticking of the grandfather clock she'd inherited from her father, and looking across the table at the silent visage of her former mentor, all Ashley could think about was how old she looked. "You actually kept the picture," she finally said, not asking the question of why. She knew the frame well enough, even if it was actually pointed at the headmistress rather than the agent standing on the opposite side of the desk. She wasn't sitting; she wasn't a student here, not anymore. She hadn't seen the girl in it, sixteen years old and bursting with pride, for a long time. "You should take it down while we're here," she said, keeping her voice even. "It'll compromise things." "I will take that under consideration," said Callie Summers, giving her former protege that ever-maddening imperturbable stare. "Thank you for staying for this meeting. I want to make sure you and Raven are properly introduced." "...that's what he is, huh? Just Raven?" asked Ashley, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "Must make things easier."
  24. (note - this sheet takes the slot formerly occupied by the now-maxed character Edge) (note 2 - this sheet has one veteran reward [for Watchdog's vehicle + headquarters + equipment] + one veteran award [15PP worth of Pulse] + part of another veteran award [6PP worth of Pulse] This should leave me with 9PP of veteran award 7 remaining]) Watchdog Power Level: 11 (189/197) Trade-Offs: -1DEF/+1TOU, +5 ATK/-5DMG Unspent Power Points: 8 In Brief: Teenage sidekick turned Secret Service Agent pretending to be a teenage vigilante. Alternate Identity: Ashley Tran George Identity: Secret? Ish? Depends on who you ask. Birthplace: New Orleans, USA Occupation: Secret Service Agent, Superhero, Bodyguard Affiliations: Her charge, Jaycee Cahill Family: Phillip Tran [father, deceased], Mary Arbour-George [mother, living], William George [stepfather, living] Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003) [sisters, living] Age: 26 (DoB: April 1992) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Eurasian Height: 5'6" Weight: 145 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black, dyed pink at the tips Physical Description: Ashley is short and round-faced, with big eyes and a smile that makes it easy for her to pass as sixteen - not that she's doing a lot of smiling these days. She's grown her jet-black hair out for this mission and dyed the tips pink, another way to help herself pass as someone a decade younger than her actual age. She has the muscular build of a born athlete, albeit one with a boxer's training rather than a gymnast's. When not wearing her helmet, she sticks close to "Claudia" and doesn't say much except when directly addressed or speaking to her 'sister', keeping most of her face hidden behind dark sunglasses and a near-perpetual scowl. She speaks English with no particular accent, though her French and Vietnamese have Louisiana and American accents, respectively. She usually dresses like a teenage girl trying to look like a punk, or at least push the dress code - leather jackets, dark T-shirts, and denim skirts or pants. In costume as Watchdog, she wears a grey armored outfit with a bright red snarling dog's face over the chest. Over that she wears a black and grey leather jacket with metal studs on the shoulders - and covering her head a modified motorcycle helmet painted the same red as her chest symbol. She wears fingerless black gloves on both hands while in combat. Her jacket comes with a hood that she usually keeps pulled up, the better to strike a more intimidating profile. At either side are two silvered pistols, hanging on each hip. Watchdog is, if anything, a sourer presence than Ashley - her helmet-muffled voice sounding tinny and artificial. Quote: <Watchdog stares up at her interrogator until they go away> Character History: Phillip Tran fled what had once been South Vietnam with his parents in the late 1970s, his family traveling through the Phillippines and Guam before their arrival in the mainland United States. They settled in New Orleans, with its heat, its French language, and its Catholic population. (His father had served in the South Vietnamese army and his mother was Hoa, an ethnic Chinese minority disliked by the new regime - they had ample reason to leave the country.) The Trans were determined that their son, only a small boy when they fled the country, would remember the nation of his birth and so taught him language, culture, and customs. When Philip was a young man, he did what his father had and joined the military - at eighteen, he enlisted in the US Army in 1989. Phillip served his adopted homeland well, fighting in Operation Desert Storm before returning to New Orleans East to marry his high school sweetheart Mary Arbour in 1991. They were a mixed couple, but Mary was a good Catholic and fluent in French - the Trans had no complaints. They settled in New Orleans East, where Phillip's military service got him a job with the NOPD, patrolling the neighborhood where he'd grown up. Phillip and Mary became the parents of five girls [(Ashley (1992), Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003)] and did their best to balance both worlds - Ashley grew up hearing English, Vietnamese, and French spoken in the household and in both school and afterschool programs, worshiping at the local Vietnamese Catholic Church, and was honestly very happy. Her father doted on her and passed on his deep love of his adopted homeland, its people, and his chosen career - law enforcement. Ashley loved her father and the neighborhood where she grew up - but unlike her father, she hoped to use service to others as a way up and out. Her way out, influenced by her dad's love for Clint Eastwood movies, was from an early age the United States Secret Service. Protecting the President, the symbol of American freedom, seemed like the coolest job in the world - she read about the long hours and thankless conditions, but she appreciated the need for sacrifice to get what you want. And what she wanted was the Secret Service and the Presidential Protective Detail. It would take years of training and study, especially since fate and genetics had given her a small frame that would make a lifetime of physical activity difficult. But she had the drive and the commitment to make it happen. But life had some curves to throw her way first. Ashley was thirteen when Katrina hit - thirteen when her father died. It was all very sad - a beloved local cop killed by a looter in the frantic days just after the hurricane, four little girls and one very pregnant widow left behind. She didn't believe it - despite what the outside media said, there weren't that many looters around, especially not in their relatively isolated neighborhood, and even those looters wouldn't shoot a police officer in the back for no reason anyone had ever been able to find. It didn't add up. But nobody wanted to hear it - especially not her grieving mother. A few months after her father's death, a month after her baby sister was born, her mother married one of her father's former partners - an Anglo man who was himself eager to get out of the damaged city. They moved to Lafayette, where her stepfather found a job as a campus police officer for the University of Louisiana - and Ashley made plans to get the hell out of town. When Ashley's powers first appeared on the Fourth of July, 2006, when Lady Liberty's appearance at the Lafayette, LA Fourth of July festivities ended with a certain teenager firing beams of golden light from her eyes and singing the National Anthem (an utterly mortifying experience that she is forever grateful took place just before the widespread adoption of the smartphone), Mary George almost didn't let her daughter go to Claremont even after the League helped keep the news of the "Copycat" out of the national news, and after the arrival of kindly headmaster Duncan Summers - not until it was made clear to her that the school was safe and that her daughter would be protected. When Ashley found out what the school was _really_ for, it wasn't hard for her to figure out what she wanted to do - she wanted to find the man who had killed her father! First came two years of hard training and discipline, learning everything she'd need to learn to be a superhero. What was a social life when there was work to be done? Maybe she studied too hard, and pushed her body to its breaking point - but what else was there to do? She had to find justice, even if no one else wanted to - or could. Ashley George's first time on patrol with the Raven changed her life. It was 2008 and she was sixteen, in her second year at Claremont Academy and honestly not sure if she wanted to be a superhero. She didn't have the flashy powers of many of her classmates, the first Next-Gen students like Bolt or Megastar, she wasn't a particularly outstanding student (though she did work hard, spending hours in the library every night), nor was she particularly happy in Freedom City, so far from her home in New Orleans. But the Raven saw something in Ashley she didn't see in herself - and so it was that 'Copycat' joined the Raven on patrol as an occasional sidekick. People who kept a close eye on Raven around the start of the current decade will remember Copycat in her full-face mask and cat-ears, the black and navy blue costume that she burned years ago. But never mind that. Ashley enjoyed adventuring alongside the famous hero, especially once she gained enough control over her energy-draining abilities to use them in the field - but truthfully she appreciated the private lessons more. She learned the Raven's "style-less" style of goju hand-to-hand fighting, learning how to take down men half again her size in hand-to-hand combat. She learned how to work a room and how to control a crowd with her voice and her eyes, letting darkness, mystery, and the occasional violent beating distract from the fact that she was just a petite girl whose superpowers generally didn't do much to make her bulletproof (except when she was fighting psychopaths who could punch through steel doors!) She learned other things too - Raven was Amerasian too and had also lost a parent to crime. Maybe it was their similarities that had drawn Raven to her - Raven wasn't much for talking. The problem was, after her senior year, Ashley wasn't one for listening - at least, not to Raven. Ashley George's break with superheroing began the spring of 2010; the day she caught the man who, ten years earlier, had murdered her father. On the one hand, it was incredibly satisfying. Raven and Copycat found the killer of her father in the spring of 2010, the culmination of two years of investigative work by the duo (both remotely and on-scene) that finally cracked after a lucky break. He made the mistake of fighting back when Raven crashed through his apartment door and Copycat through his window, and Copycat had the great pleasure of kicking him in the knee until he collapsed, then beating him into unconsciousness with the butt of his own shotgun. Ashley still lets herself go back to that moment when she needs something to get her blood pumping. On the other hand, it wasn't so satisfying at all. Paul Dubois was a drug dealer and a criminal, a man who had turned to marketing zombie powder and Zoom to impressionable young people in Ashley's old neighborhood. He was a bad man and taking him down was a great thing. But he'd turned to crime as a way of paying for his own addiction to zombie powder, a downward spiral that earned him a death sentence in the spring of 2012 when he was convicted of murdering Phillip Tran, an NOPD officer who had come across him cleaning out one of his drug stashes while the storm hit. It was hard to ignore how superhumans had made him worse rather than better, how a man who might have been able to turn his life around had only sunk further into the muck because of the gods and monsters of the world. She and Raven started arguing more after that, arguing about superheroes and supervillains, about how much good the former actually did when they weren't stopping world-ending threats. In the end, it was no one great thing that drove apart hero and sidekick, no great crisis that either of the two born 'fixers' could have solved. When Raven kept Copycat at arms length, endless tests and trials and secret drills only taught Ashley that her mentor valued her costumed identity more than her real self - when Raven kept Copycat close, the hidden reality of the superhero world showed her the underbelly of the gods and heroes - the dimensional vibrations where supers had gone to war with humans rather than protecting them, the criminals turned heroes who laughed at justice for their crimes, the Grue and other monsters hiding among innocent people, the codenames and secret identities and the endless secrets kept from a general public that supposedly couldn't "handle the truth". When Copycat left the Raven's side after graduation, it was not on good terms - and she didn't look back. She had better things to do. When Ashley graduated from Claremont Academy in 2010, she had her diploma and her associate's degree both - having taken advantage of the school's early college program during her time as the "workaholic wallflower." After two more years, she had her bachelor's degree in criminal justice (and a minor in political science) from Our Lady of Holy Cross College. After a lifetime of repression, college had been a breath of fresh air - she'd gotten drunk for the first time and smoked weed while she was at it and had her first real boyfriend - at least until he found out she was serious about not wanting to stay in New Orleans and that she wasn't interested in getting married right now. She had plans. First came three years (2012-2015) as a New Orleans police officer, wearing the star and crescent badge her father had died wearing, defending the New Orleans East neighborhood where she'd grown up. (Beyond her family ties, it's the largest American police force that doesn't ask questions about superpowers or vigilantism when you join - a legacy of the post-Katrina recruitment drives.) Eurasian and female, she was part of a tiny minority on the force - but she'd already been through much worse than anything the boys in blue could throw at her. She enjoyed the work, enjoyed patrolling the streets and keeping people safe, but nothing about being back in her old neighborhood changed her mind about her desire to move out of it. Her mother, sisters, and step-brothers were settling in fine in Lafayette; there was nothing for her here but ghosts. The laws dealing with superbeings and federal employment are complex - something Ashley knew even before she filled out her application to join the Secret Service. She had the grades, she had the physical training, and she certainly had the experience. She had to be careful about how she wrote about that last thing (given that Copycat had much more training in criminal justice than Ashley George could ever admit to having) - but her three years at the NOPD, her fluent command of French and Vietnamese, along with glowing recommendation letters from her former supervisor, turned out to be just enough to make the grade. She was young (at 23, just past the minimum age) and not powerfully built - but she had what the federal government was looking for. Of course, she _also_ had the meta-gene. With so many witnesses to her accidentally stealing Lady Liberty's powers as a teenager, and the extensive battery of first physical, then psychological tests she had to undergo once she admitted to having superpowers on a federal employment form, there was no hiding who she was. But she'd thought this through, and she made her case time and time again. Despite her powers she was all-too-human; and those powers could be tremendously useful as a government agent - she could shut down the powers of an attacking metahuman with a touch, and detect the hostile intentions of many different types of beings even before they attacked. Easy to overlook (albeit often mistaken for a teenager thanks to her youth, slight build, and rounded features), she could blend right into a group of agents until she had to go into action. The hard part was avoiding AEGIS. After the mandatory ten week AEGIS training course for metahumans working for the federal government, almost all of them wind up working for AEGIS in some capacity or another - but Ashley wasn't interested. Working with AEGIS would put her too close to the worst parts of the life she left behind, with its codenames and its secrets, and she wanted the best parts instead - the bravery, and the courage, and the principles, to risk your life for another because it was the right thing to do. As the first superhuman agent of the Secret Service, her promotions were fast-tracked - within certain limits. She was in her mid-twenties (and had only been an agent for a year and a half) when she was assigned to the White House, but only to manage the file room in the basement. She liked it there, only called 'upstairs' when the President was meeting with superhumans of some character or another (usually the members of the Dream Team), where she usually stood discreetly off to one side in her sunglasses and dark, conservative clothing, making sure that President Cahill (a man popular with his detail) stayed safe. She wasn't actually part of the Protective Detail - but it was still pretty damn good. Then came D-Day. On March 15, 2018, there was an incident at the White House. The general public is aware that all the radios and other electronic gadgets near the White House went dead, some of them permanently, for a good hour and a half. The Secret Service, Capitol Police, and other law enforcement agencies in Washington went on high alert that afternoon and the whole city went into lockdown for 24 hours. The general public believes that the incident was the result of a terrorist attack by robotic members of the Foundry - an attack foiled by the Secret Service. This is a lie. What really happened was that Jaycee Cahill nearly set the White House on fire. 'Sick in bed' with agonizing migraines, she was the source of the sudden 'radio black hole' that made it appear that every radio and other wireless signal in the White House had gone dead. In the process of being evacuated from the terrorist attack along with her mother and younger sister, it was she who generated an EMP powerful enough to keep Marine One from flying - and then in a sudden burst of microwave energy, emit a pulse powerful enough to nearly kill her family and Secret Service detail as their internal temperatures raised to dangerously high levels. It was Agent Ashley George, running at full speed across the White House lawn even as the grass began to smolder around the frightened teen (who had run, hands to the side of her head, from the landing pad on the South Lawn), who saved the day, grabbing Jaycee by her pressure points and holding her as she drained the energy that powered the teen's radiation. She saved the First Family, she saved her fellow agents, and she probably stopped the irradiation of a significant number of White House staff and tourists. And it was Agent George who was on point for the news of what had followed - about Jaycee's powers couldn't be turned off or suppressed, about how she needed to learn how to use them or she would die - and so would a hell of a lot of other people if she stayed in the White House. So what could they do? Could they really tell the world that the President's daughter had power enough, theoretically, to fry an entire city - power that had come from alien DNA that blood tests found in the President and his three daughters? There had to be another way. NPC Backstory: Jaycee Cahill was born in 2002 in Guymon, Oklahoma. She's the middle of three girls, all of them named after their father J.T. (who she still calls 'Daddy', especially when she wants something from him). Her family has deep roots in rural Texas County; her late grandfather's savvy business sense made him a millionaire (and the richest man in Texas County, at least for a while) when he sold his failing cattle lands to invest in the natural gas boom of the 1930s. Her daddy met her momma Rachel twenty years ago, when he was fresh out of Harvard and a graduate student at the University of Oklahoma and she was just finishing up her BA in nursing. Rachel left her family in Muskogee behind to settle in her husband's hometown and work as a school nurse; Jaycee looks a lot like her mom, with her mother's skin tone, petite build and dark hair. Jaycee knows there was a time when her daddy wasn't a politician, but she can't really remember it. She wasn't yet in elementary school when her daddy ran for the Oklahoma State Legislature, a position he held for only a few years before deciding legislative service wasn't for him. The former political science professor at OPSU wasn't a man for legislative negotiations and dickering - he wanted to be the man in charge. Friendly to the oil industry, married to a Comanche woman, projecting a folksy-but-informed manner that let him speak cordially to both Tulsa suburbanites and farmers in the Panhandle, JT Cahill ran first as an outsider in the Republican primary, then was elected Governor of Oklahoma in 2010. Jaycee found that she liked being a governor's daughter. She was one of the most popular kids in her tony private schools in Oklahoma City, getting her attention she'd hardly ever won as a middle child back home, and living in Oklahoma City was a lot better than living in Guymon. It meant changes at home - she saw a lot less of her daddy and her momma, but she was reaching an age where that wasn't so bad. She got to travel too; out to DC and down to Austin, getting to know the children of other politicians and rich friends of her daddy's, and even got to visit. She wasn't old enough to be interested in boys the way her older sister Jaybee was, but she was sure that when she did, she'd have her pick of the best ones. She had a lot of plans. Jaycee was old enough to have some idea of what they were getting into when her daddy and momma sat her and her two sisters down in December of 2014 to tell them something very serious. Her daddy had thought hard, he'd prayed hard, and he'd talked to their mom and his friends - and Governor Cahill was going to run for President in the next election. Freshly 13, Jaycee rolled her eyes but didn't actually backsass her daddy - her daddy had just been re-elected Governor earlier that year and she figured the campaign for President couldn't be _that_ different from the campaign for Governor. And besides, it probably wasn't going to amount to anything. She had to admit she loved her dad (privately, anyway), but the country wasn't going to elect her dad, with his corny jokes and his Sooner ties and cheerful belly, President, right? The headaches started around the time of Jaycee's fourteenth birthday, just a short time after her father had been elected President of the United States. They were small at first and she got aspirin for them, then stronger stuff - stuff the White House doctors had to prescribe, then hospital visits to get her on a new type of painkillers. Her daddy's people kept it out of the media, which made her feel a little better - running for President was _not_ like running for Governor at all, and the campaign had turned her life completely upside-down. She knew how important this job was to her family, to her sisters, to America; she decided not to tell anyone when the headaches came back after a few months of treatment - or when she started hearing whispers in empty rooms in the White House, and then seeing things she knew weren't there - strange colors and patterns that she blocked out by sheer force of will. She wasn't going to ruin everything for her family by being a freak! And then came D-Day. Judith Claudia Cahill Metahuman Abilities: Subject's metahuman abilities reflect a biological connection to the lower end of the electromagnetic spectrum - particularly the VHF frequencies just above one meter. Her neurological and skeletal systems have a unique chemical composition that makes her a natural transmitter and receiver of these frequencies. In a 'resting' state, she has the ability to send and receive signals along these frequencies, visual data being transmitted to her optic nerve and auditory to her ear canal. However, subject's abilities are 'overpowered' (as is common among younger metahumans). When in an environment with sufficient VHF energy (such as that found in any major metropolitan area), her body begins to act as a natural 'sponge' - absorbing and storing these energies throughout her cellular structure. Sufficient accumulation of these energies results in so-far uncontrolled discharges of energies cascading 'above' the VHF range into microwaves and infrared radiation. These discharges are extremely hazardous to her environment and others within it. Unless her abilities can be reliably controlled, there will be further D-Day events. Subject is not recommended for inhibitor technology for multiple reasons - in addition to the hazard her abilities pose to the sensitive environment where she lives, her neurological functions have become dependent on the VHF radiation she absorbs unconsciously. Without regular exposure to VHF radiation, her brain will begin to shut down and she will enter a persistent comatose state. Reveal hidden contents Power Descriptions: Watchdog generally fights like someone who has no superpowers - hanging back and picking foes off with her pistols, or wading into melee to take them out with well-placed joint strikes and body blows. She's tough in her armor, capable of taking hits from metahumans or bursts of automatic weapons fire, and isn't afraid to take some hits in order to get the job done. Without her armor she's much more cautious (especially since that deprives of her of her firearms), preferring to strike from the shadows rather than enter openly into combat. When she does use her powers she doesn't comment on the fact that she's doing so; instead closing into melee range and striking her target with her hands. There's no apparent visual effect when she does so, but psionically adept characters can observe a spectacular 'splash' of psionic energy like ripples in a pond as she copies her target's psionic aura, then absorbs that copy into herself. Once she does have powers copied, she tends to fight in a style that mimics her opponent - taking to the air for a blaster, slugging it out for a powerhouse, etc. Complications: Agent: Ashley is technically a sworn law enforcement officer, but doesn't act as such while wearing her costume except for her duties to protect Jaycee Cahill. This is a complicated situation. Break: Ashley's complicated relationship with the Raven remains both a sore point and a point of pride. Copycat: Ashley isn't hiding her superpowers but she is keeping them to herself; she'll use them as a second resort rather than a first unless she needs to save a life. Duty: Ashley George is responsible for the life and well-being of the First Daughter, Jaycee Cahill. This is her highest priority - whatever she or Jaycee thinks about this. Enemy: Baron Samedi's drug empire indirectly killed Ashley's father. Given the chance, she'll go for him - minus her duty to Jaycee. Guns: Though Ashley's pistols are not actually firearms, they strongly resemble them (this is a way of distracting attention from the level of high technology she carries) - this may be something other heroes have trouble with. Lies: Ashley lied about how she'd developed her powers when she joined the Secret Service. Nobody Knows The Troubles I've Seen: Watchdog's personality is of necessity not very nice - she has to play the part of the gritty, unlikable vigilante as a way of making sure no one pays too much attention to her. Out of Town: At her core, Ashley is in many ways still a product of her conservative upbringing - even though she did learn to relax during her time at Claremont. Patriot: Ashley George loves the United States of America and all it stands for. Secret: Ashley George is a 26 year old Secret Service agent, not a teenager from an alternate universe! Split Personality: Ashley's powers occasionally result in her copying certain mental traits of those whose powers she steals - this annoyance is one of the reasons she doesn't do it very often. We Get The Job Done: Ashley is the biracial daughter of a first-generation immigrant. Who's That Girl: Ashley wears her helmet because while there aren't that many people who would recognize the workaholic wallflower that was Ashley George from her time at Claremont - or for that matter connect her with the heroine Copycat, there are a few. Abilities: 4 + 4 + 6 + 0 + 6 + 4 = 24PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 16 (+3) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 10 + 10 = 20PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +5 Base, +9 Gun, +9 Damage, +15 Mimic Defense: +9 (+5 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Grapple: +7 Knockback: -5/-2/-1 Saves: 5 + 6 + 5 = 16PP Toughness: +11/+5/+3 (+3 Con, +2 Defensive Roll, +6 Armor) Fortitude: +8 (+3 Con, +5) Reflex: +8 (+2 Dex, +6) Will: +8 (+3 Wis, +5) Skills: 88R = 22PP Bluff 9 (+11 SM) Climb 3 (+5) Concentration 2 (+5) Craft [Mechanical] 5 (+5) Drive 8 (+10) Escape Artist 3 (+5) Gather Info 3 (+5) Intimidate 8 (+10, SM) Investigate 10 (+10) Medicine 3 (+5) Knowledge (Civics) 5 (+5) Languages 2 (French, Vietnamese, Base: English) Notice 8 (+11, SM) Search 5 (+5) Sense Motive 7 (+10, SM) Stealth 8 (+10) Swim 3 (+5) Feats: 21PP All-Out Attack Attack Focuse (Ranged) 2 Defensive Roll 1 Devotion (Pulse) Dodge Focus 4 Equipment 15 (From Veteran Award) Evasion Interpose Luck Power Attack Precise Shot 1 Quick Draw [Draw] Sidekick 24 [Pulse, 21 from Veteran Reward] Skill Mastery (Bluff, Intimidate, Notice, Sense Motive) Takedown Attack Well-Informed Equipment 15 PP 4EPs Masterwork Cellphone Masterwork Rebreather Masterwork Handcuffs Masterwork Tools (Craft [Mechanical]) Description: The Dawg looks like a decade-old Cadillac DeVille that's been modified by an experienced street mechanic into a fearsome road machine, perfect for a badass vigilante. The front of the car is modified to look like a snarling dog with headlights for eyes and snarling teeth around the grille, while the sound of its specially modified engine sounds distinctly like the growl of a large pitbull. It's fast and tough, easily capable of chasing down almost anything on the road - including metahumans! It's also completely bulletproof, with an internal life support system, built-in communicator and satellite phone, 'storage compartments' and an almost unbeatable onboard GPS. A close look reveals even more modifications - 5-inch armored doors, and "bulletproof glass so thick it blocks out parts of the light spectrum." run-flat tires, and a 454-cubic-inch engine.Confirmed accessories include "an integrated 10-disc CD changer, a foldaway desktop and reclining rear seats with massaging, adaptive cushions." It weighs about 14,000 pounds. At the touch of a button, it can turn itself into a normal-looking car - though it's still bright red. Normal mode The Dawg (STR 45 SPD 6 DEF 9 TOU 10 Size: Huge, Features: Alarm 2 [DC 25], Computer, Feature: Cellphone comm., Hidden Compartments, Navigation System Powers: Impervious Toughness 10, Immunity 9 (Life Support), Morph 6 (normal car), Super-Senses 4 (Radar) [55EP] Description: The Dawg Pound is a specially modified warehouse in Port Regal that looks perfect for the home of a gritty young vigilante. With space to park the Dawg and space to park her crew, it's a totally radical place. The fridge is stocked with diet soda and energy drinks, the freezer with frozen pizzas and chicken nuggets, the gym has equipment for punching away your inner demons to an angry techno soundtrack, the flatscreen TV in the rec room even has an XBox One with the latest games. It's angsty teen superhero paradise! Headquarters Array 9 (15EP, AP: Alternate Power 1) [16EP] BE: Dawg Pound [Size: Huge; Toughness: 20; Features: Communications, Computer, Concealed, Garage, Gym, Living Space, Power System, Security System, Workshop] The House is just a perfectly normal one-story white house with attached garage near the edge of Bayview, away from the city limits - what do you mean? Why would this house be special? AP: House Size: Small; Toughness: 15; Features: Communications, Concealed [4], Garage, Living Space, Power (Impervious + Immunity), Personnel (Other Secret Service Agents), Power System, Security System [2], Workshop Power: Immunity 9 (Life Support) + Impervious Toughness 10 {19/20} Powers: 7 + 17 + 28 + 32 + 2 = 86PP Damage 3 (Raven's Training, PFs: Accurate 2, Innate, Mighty) (training) [7PP] Device 4 (Watchdog Armor and Guns, 20DP, Flaw: Hard to Lose, PF: Restricted 1 [voiceprint]) (technology) [17PP] Blast 5 (pulsed energy projectiles; PFs: Accurate 1, Improved Critical) [12DP] Protection 6 [6DP] Super-Senses 2 (Infravision, Ultravision) [2DP] Gadgets 4 (Utility Jacket; 20PP Variable Power, Any Power, Multiple Powers At Once; Extras: Duration [Continuous]; Flaws: Hard-To-Lose) [28PP] Sample Gadgets: "The Beast" Enhanced Blast 7 (to Blast 13) {14/20} Collapsible Shield Force Field 6 (Extra: Affects Others) {12/20} Grapple Gun Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1] + Super-Movement 3 (Slow Fall, Swinging, Wall-Crawling 2) {9/20} Taser Stun 5 (PFs: Accurate 5) {15/20} Power Thief Container 5 (25PP Container, PFs: Accurate 5, Precise, Subtle 1 [psionic senses]) [32PP] (mutation) Fatigue 5 (Extra: Linked [Mimic, +0]) {10} + Mimic 5 (All Powers, 25PP; Extra: Linked [Fatigue, +0], Flaw: Tainted) {15} + = [10+15=25/25PP] Super-Senses 2 (Danger Sense [Mental], Uncanny Dodge [Mental]) (mutation) [2PP] Totals: Abilities (24) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (16) + Skills (22) + Feats (21) + Powers (86) - Drawbacks (0) = 189/197 Power Points
  25. (note - this sheet takes the slot formerly occupied by the now-maxed character Edge) Watchdog Power Level: 10 (150/150) Trade-Offs: -1DEF/+1TOU, +5 ATK/-5DMG Unspent Power Points: 0 In Brief: Teenage sidekick turned Secret Service Agent pretending to be a teenage vigilante. Alternate Identity: Ashley Tran George Identity: Secret? Ish? Depends on who you ask. Birthplace: New Orleans, USA Occupation: Secret Service Agent, Superhero, Bodyguard Affiliations: Her charge, Jaycee Cahill Family: Phillip Tran [father, deceased], Mary Arbour-George [mother, living], William George [stepfather, living] Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003) [sisters, living] Age: 26 (DoB: April 1992) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Eurasian Height: 5'6" Weight: 145 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black, dyed pink at the tips Physical Description: Ashley is short and round-faced, with big eyes and a smile that makes it easy for her to pass as sixteen - not that she's doing a lot of smiling these days. She's grown her jet-black hair out for this mission and dyed the tips pink, another way to help herself pass as someone a decade younger than her actual age. She has the muscular build of a born athlete, albeit one with a boxer's training rather than a gymnast's. When not wearing her helmet, she sticks close to "Claudia" and doesn't say much except when directly addressed or speaking to her 'sister', keeping most of her face hidden behind dark sunglasses and a near-perpetual scowl. She speaks English with no particular accent, though her French and Vietnamese have Louisiana and American accents, respectively. She usually dresses like a teenage girl trying to look like a punk, or at least push the dress code - leather jackets, dark T-shirts, and denim skirts or pants. In costume as Watchdog, she wears a grey armored outfit with a bright red snarling dog's face over the chest. Over that she wears a black and grey leather jacket with metal studs on the shoulders - and covering her head a modified motorcycle helmet painted the same red as her chest symbol. She wears fingerless black gloves on both hands while in combat. Her jacket comes with a hood that she usually keeps pulled up, the better to strike a more intimidating profile. At either side are two silvered pistols, hanging on each hip. Watchdog is, if anything, a sourer presence than Ashley - her helmet-muffled voice sounding tinny and artificial. Quote: <Watchdog stares up at her interrogator until they go away> Character History: Phillip Tran fled what had once been South Vietnam with his parents in the late 1970s, his family traveling through the Phillippines and Guam before their arrival in the mainland United States. They settled in New Orleans, with its heat, its French language, and its Catholic population. (His father had served in the South Vietnamese army and his mother was Hoa, an ethnic Chinese minority disliked by the new regime - they had ample reason to leave the country.) The Trans were determined that their son, only a small boy when they fled the country, would remember the nation of his birth and so taught him language, culture, and customs. When Philip was a young man, he did what his father had and joined the military - at eighteen, he enlisted in the US Army in 1989. Phillip served his adopted homeland well, fighting in Operation Desert Storm before returning to New Orleans East to marry his high school sweetheart Mary Arbour in 1991. They were a mixed couple, but Mary was a good Catholic and fluent in French - the Trans had no complaints. They settled in New Orleans East, where Phillip's military service got him a job with the NOPD, patrolling the neighborhood where he'd grown up. Phillip and Mary became the parents of five girls [(Ashley (1992), Mary (1994), Cecilia (1997), Agnes (2001) and Phillipa (2003)] and did their best to balance both worlds - Ashley grew up hearing English, Vietnamese, and French spoken in the household and in both school and afterschool programs, worshiping at the local Vietnamese Catholic Church, and was honestly very happy. Her father doted on her and passed on his deep love of his adopted homeland, its people, and his chosen career - law enforcement. Ashley loved her father and the neighborhood where she grew up - but unlike her father, she hoped to use service to others as a way up and out. Her way out, influenced by her dad's love for Clint Eastwood movies, was from an early age the United States Secret Service. Protecting the President, the symbol of American freedom, seemed like the coolest job in the world - she read about the long hours and thankless conditions, but she appreciated the need for sacrifice to get what you want. And what she wanted was the Secret Service and the Presidential Protective Detail. It would take years of training and study, especially since fate and genetics had given her a small frame that would make a lifetime of physical activity difficult. But she had the drive and the commitment to make it happen. But life had some curves to throw her way first. Ashley was thirteen when Katrina hit - thirteen when her father died. It was all very sad - a beloved local cop killed by a looter in the frantic days just after the hurricane, four little girls and one very pregnant widow left behind. She didn't believe it - despite what the outside media said, there weren't that many looters around, especially not in their relatively isolated neighborhood, and even those looters wouldn't shoot a police officer in the back for no reason anyone had ever been able to find. It didn't add up. But nobody wanted to hear it - especially not her grieving mother. A few months after her father's death, a month after her baby sister was born, her mother married one of her father's former partners - an Anglo man who was himself eager to get out of the damaged city. They moved to Lafayette, where her stepfather found a job as a campus police officer for the University of Louisiana - and Ashley made plans to get the hell out of town. When Ashley's powers first appeared on the Fourth of July, 2006, when Lady Liberty's appearance at the Lafayette, LA Fourth of July festivities ended with a certain teenager firing beams of golden light from her eyes and singing the National Anthem (an utterly mortifying experience that she is forever grateful took place just before the widespread adoption of the smartphone), Mary George almost didn't let her daughter go to Claremont even after the League helped keep the news of the "Copycat" out of the national news, and after the arrival of kindly headmaster Duncan Summers - not until it was made clear to her that the school was safe and that her daughter would be protected. When Ashley found out what the school was _really_ for, it wasn't hard for her to figure out what she wanted to do - she wanted to find the man who had killed her father! First came two years of hard training and discipline, learning everything she'd need to learn to be a superhero. What was a social life when there was work to be done? Maybe she studied too hard, and pushed her body to its breaking point - but what else was there to do? She had to find justice, even if no one else wanted to - or could. Ashley George's first time on patrol with the Raven changed her life. It was 2008 and she was sixteen, in her second year at Claremont Academy and honestly not sure if she wanted to be a superhero. She didn't have the flashy powers of many of her classmates, the first Next-Gen students like Bolt or Megastar, she wasn't a particularly outstanding student (though she did work hard, spending hours in the library every night), nor was she particularly happy in Freedom City, so far from her home in New Orleans. But the Raven saw something in Ashley she didn't see in herself - and so it was that 'Copycat' joined the Raven on patrol as an occasional sidekick. People who kept a close eye on Raven around the start of the current decade will remember Copycat in her full-face mask and cat-ears, the black and navy blue costume that she burned years ago. But never mind that. Ashley enjoyed adventuring alongside the famous hero, especially once she gained enough control over her energy-draining abilities to use them in the field - but truthfully she appreciated the private lessons more. She learned the Raven's "style-less" style of goju hand-to-hand fighting, learning how to take down men half again her size in hand-to-hand combat. She learned how to work a room and how to control a crowd with her voice and her eyes, letting darkness, mystery, and the occasional violent beating distract from the fact that she was just a petite girl whose superpowers generally didn't do much to make her bulletproof (except when she was fighting psychopaths who could punch through steel doors!) She learned other things too - Raven was Amerasian too and had also lost a parent to crime. Maybe it was their similarities that had drawn Raven to her - Raven wasn't much for talking. The problem was, after her senior year, Ashley wasn't one for listening - at least, not to Raven. Ashley George's break with superheroing began the spring of 2010; the day she caught the man who, ten years earlier, had murdered her father. On the one hand, it was incredibly satisfying. Raven and Copycat found the killer of her father in the spring of 2010, the culmination of two years of investigative work by the duo (both remotely and on-scene) that finally cracked after a lucky break. He made the mistake of fighting back when Raven crashed through his apartment door and Copycat through his window, and Copycat had the great pleasure of kicking him in the knee until he collapsed, then beating him into unconsciousness with the butt of his own shotgun. Ashley still lets herself go back to that moment when she needs something to get her blood pumping. On the other hand, it wasn't so satisfying at all. Paul Dubois was a drug dealer and a criminal, a man who had turned to marketing zombie powder and Zoom to impressionable young people in Ashley's old neighborhood. He was a bad man and taking him down was a great thing. But he'd turned to crime as a way of paying for his own addiction to zombie powder, a downward spiral that earned him a death sentence in the spring of 2012 when he was convicted of murdering Phillip Tran, an NOPD officer who had come across him cleaning out one of his drug stashes while the storm hit. It was hard to ignore how superhumans had made him worse rather than better, how a man who might have been able to turn his life around had only sunk further into the muck because of the gods and monsters of the world. She and Raven started arguing more after that, arguing about superheroes and supervillains, about how much good the former actually did when they weren't stopping world-ending threats. In the end, it was no one great thing that drove apart hero and sidekick, no great crisis that either of the two born 'fixers' could have solved. When Raven kept Copycat at arms length, endless tests and trials and secret drills only taught Ashley that her mentor valued her costumed identity more than her real self - when Raven kept Copycat close, the hidden reality of the superhero world showed her the underbelly of the gods and heroes - the dimensional vibrations where supers had gone to war with humans rather than protecting them, the criminals turned heroes who laughed at justice for their crimes, the Grue and other monsters hiding among innocent people, the codenames and secret identities and the endless secrets kept from a general public that supposedly couldn't "handle the truth". When Copycat left the Raven's side after graduation, it was not on good terms - and she didn't look back. She had better things to do. When Ashley graduated from Claremont Academy in 2010, she had her diploma and her associate's degree both - having taken advantage of the school's early college program during her time as the "workaholic wallflower." After two more years, she had her bachelor's degree in criminal justice (and a minor in political science) from Our Lady of Holy Cross College. After a lifetime of repression, college had been a breath of fresh air - she'd gotten drunk for the first time and smoked weed while she was at it and had her first real boyfriend - at least until he found out she was serious about not wanting to stay in New Orleans and that she wasn't interested in getting married right now. She had plans. First came three years (2012-2015) as a New Orleans police officer, wearing the star and crescent badge her father had died wearing, defending the New Orleans East neighborhood where she'd grown up. (Beyond her family ties, it's the largest American police force that doesn't ask questions about superpowers or vigilantism when you join - a legacy of the post-Katrina recruitment drives.) Eurasian and female, she was part of a tiny minority on the force - but she'd already been through much worse than anything the boys in blue could throw at her. She enjoyed the work, enjoyed patrolling the streets and keeping people safe, but nothing about being back in her old neighborhood changed her mind about her desire to move out of it. Her mother, sisters, and step-brothers were settling in fine in Lafayette; there was nothing for her here but ghosts. The laws dealing with superbeings and federal employment are complex - something Ashley knew even before she filled out her application to join the Secret Service. She had the grades, she had the physical training, and she certainly had the experience. She had to be careful about how she wrote about that last thing (given that Copycat had much more training in criminal justice than Ashley George could ever admit to having) - but her three years at the NOPD, her fluent command of French and Vietnamese, along with glowing recommendation letters from her former supervisor, turned out to be just enough to make the grade. She was young (at 23, just past the minimum age) and not powerfully built - but she had what the federal government was looking for. Of course, she _also_ had the meta-gene. With so many witnesses to her accidentally stealing Lady Liberty's powers as a teenager, and the extensive battery of first physical, then psychological tests she had to undergo once she admitted to having superpowers on a federal employment form, there was no hiding who she was. But she'd thought this through, and she made her case time and time again. Despite her powers she was all-too-human; and those powers could be tremendously useful as a government agent - she could shut down the powers of an attacking metahuman with a touch, and detect the hostile intentions of many different types of beings even before they attacked. Easy to overlook (albeit often mistaken for a teenager thanks to her youth, slight build, and rounded features), she could blend right into a group of agents until she had to go into action. The hard part was avoiding AEGIS. After the mandatory ten week AEGIS training course for metahumans working for the federal government, almost all of them wind up working for AEGIS in some capacity or another - but Ashley wasn't interested. Working with AEGIS would put her too close to the worst parts of the life she left behind, with its codenames and its secrets, and she wanted the best parts instead - the bravery, and the courage, and the principles, to risk your life for another because it was the right thing to do. As the first superhuman agent of the Secret Service, her promotions were fast-tracked - within certain limits. She was in her mid-twenties (and had only been an agent for a year and a half) when she was assigned to the White House, but only to manage the file room in the basement. She liked it there, only called 'upstairs' when the President was meeting with superhumans of some character or another (usually the members of the Dream Team), where she usually stood discreetly off to one side in her sunglasses and dark, conservative clothing, making sure that President Cahill (a man popular with his detail) stayed safe. She wasn't actually part of the Protective Detail - but it was still pretty damn good. Then came D-Day. On March 15, 2018, there was an incident at the White House. The general public is aware that all the radios and other electronic gadgets near the White House went dead, some of them permanently, for a good hour and a half. The Secret Service, Capitol Police, and other law enforcement agencies in Washington went on high alert that afternoon and the whole city went into lockdown for 24 hours. The general public believes that the incident was the result of a terrorist attack by robotic members of the Foundry - an attack foiled by the Secret Service. This is a lie. What really happened was that Jaycee Cahill nearly set the White House on fire. 'Sick in bed' with agonizing migraines, she was the source of the sudden 'radio black hole' that made it appear that every radio and other wireless signal in the White House had gone dead. In the process of being evacuated from the terrorist attack along with her mother and younger sister, it was she who generated an EMP powerful enough to keep Marine One from flying - and then in a sudden burst of microwave energy, emit a pulse powerful enough to nearly kill her family and Secret Service detail as their internal temperatures raised to dangerously high levels. It was Agent Ashley George, running at full speed across the White House lawn even as the grass began to smolder around the frightened teen (who had run, hands to the side of her head, from the landing pad on the South Lawn), who saved the day, grabbing Jaycee by her pressure points and holding her as she drained the energy that powered the teen's radiation. She saved the First Family, she saved her fellow agents, and she probably stopped the irradiation of a significant number of White House staff and tourists. And it was Agent George who was on point for the news of what had followed - about Jaycee's powers couldn't be turned off or suppressed, about how she needed to learn how to use them or she would die - and so would a hell of a lot of other people if she stayed in the White House. So what could they do? Could they really tell the world that the President's daughter had power enough, theoretically, to fry an entire city - power that had come from Farsider DNA that blood tests found in the President and his three daughters? There had to be another way. NPC Backstory: Jaycee Cahill was born in 2002 in Guymon, Oklahoma. She's the middle of three girls, all of them named after their father J.T. (who she still calls 'Daddy', especially when she wants something from him). Her family has deep roots in rural Texas County; her late grandfather's savvy business sense made him a millionaire (and the richest man in Texas County, at least for a while) when he sold his failing cattle lands to invest in the natural gas boom of the 1930s. Her daddy met her momma Rachel twenty years ago, when he was fresh out of Harvard and a graduate student at the University of Oklahoma and she was just finishing up her BA in nursing. Rachel left her family in Muskogee behind to settle in her husband's hometown and work as a school nurse; Jaycee looks a lot like her mom, with her mother's skin tone, petite build and dark hair. Jaycee knows there was a time when her daddy wasn't a politician, but she can't really remember it. She wasn't yet in elementary school when her daddy ran for the Oklahoma State Legislature, a position he held for only a few years before deciding legislative service wasn't for him. The former political science professor at OPSU wasn't a man for legislative negotiations and dickering - he wanted to be the man in charge. Friendly to the oil industry, married to a Comanche woman, projecting a folksy-but-informed manner that let him speak cordially to both Tulsa suburbanites and farmers in the Panhandle, JT Cahill ran first as an outsider in the Republican primary, then was elected Governor of Oklahoma in 2010. Jaycee found that she liked being a governor's daughter. She was one of the most popular kids in her tony private schools in Oklahoma City, getting her attention she'd hardly ever won as a middle child back home, and living in Oklahoma City was a lot better than living in Guymon. It meant changes at home - she saw a lot less of her daddy and her momma, but she was reaching an age where that wasn't so bad. She got to travel too; out to DC and down to Austin, getting to know the children of other politicians and rich friends of her daddy's, and even got to visit. She wasn't old enough to be interested in boys the way her older sister Jaybee was, but she was sure that when she did, she'd have her pick of the best ones. She had a lot of plans. Jaycee was old enough to have some idea of what they were getting into when her daddy and momma sat her and her two sisters down in December of 2014 to tell them something very serious. Her daddy had thought hard, he'd prayed hard, and he'd talked to their mom and his friends - and Governor Cahill was going to run for President in the next election. Freshly 13, Jaycee rolled her eyes but didn't actually backsass her daddy - her daddy had just been re-elected Governor earlier that year and she figured the campaign for President couldn't be _that_ different from the campaign for Governor. And besides, it probably wasn't going to amount to anything. She had to admit she loved her dad (privately, anyway), but the country wasn't going to elect her dad, with his corny jokes and his Sooner ties and cheerful belly, President, right? The headaches started around the time of Jaycee's fourteenth birthday, just a short time after her father had been elected President of the United States. They were small at first and she got aspirin for them, then stronger stuff - stuff the White House doctors had to prescribe, then hospital visits to get her on a new type of painkillers. Her daddy's people kept it out of the media, which made her feel a little better - running for President was _not_ like running for Governor at all, and the campaign had turned her life completely upside-down. She knew how important this job was to her family, to her sisters, to America; she decided not to tell anyone when the headaches came back after a few months of treatment - or when she started hearing whispers in empty rooms in the White House, and then seeing things she knew weren't there - strange colors and patterns that she blocked out by sheer force of will. She wasn't going to ruin everything for her family by being a freak! And then came D-Day. Judith Claudia Cahill Metahuman Abilities: Subject's metahuman abilities reflect a biological connection to the lower end of the electromagnetic spectrum - particularly the VHF frequencies just above one meter. Her neurological and skeletal systems have a unique chemical composition that makes her a natural transmitter and receiver of these frequencies. In a 'resting' state, she has the ability to send and receive signals along these frequencies, visual data being transmitted to her optic nerve and auditory to her ear canal. However, subject's abilities are 'overpowered' (as is common among younger metahumans). When in an environment with sufficient VHF energy (such as that found in any major metropolitan area), her body begins to act as a natural 'sponge' - absorbing and storing these energies throughout her cellular structure. Sufficient accumulation of these energies results in so-far uncontrolled discharges of energies cascading 'above' the VHF range into microwaves and infrared radiation. These discharges are extremely hazardous to her environment and others within it. Unless her abilities can be reliably controlled, there will be further D-Day events. Subject is not recommended for inhibitor technology for multiple reasons - in addition to the hazard her abilities pose to the sensitive environment where she lives, her neurological functions have become dependent on the VHF radiation she absorbs unconsciously. Without regular exposure to VHF radiation, her brain will begin to shut down and she will enter a persistent comatose state. Power Descriptions: Watchdog generally fights like someone who has no superpowers - hanging back and picking foes off with her pistols, or wading into melee to take them out with well-placed joint strikes and body blows. She's tough in her armor, capable of taking hits from metahumans or bursts of automatic weapons fire, and isn't afraid to take some hits in order to get the job done. Without her armor she's much more cautious (especially since that deprives of her of her firearms), preferring to strike from the shadows rather than enter openly into combat. When she does use her powers she doesn't comment on the fact that she's doing so; instead closing into melee range and striking her target with her hands. There's no apparent visual effect when she does so, but psionically adept characters can observe a spectacular 'splash' of psionic energy like ripples in a pond as she copies her target's psionic aura, then absorbs that copy into herself. Once she does have powers copied, she tends to fight in a style that mimics her opponent - taking to the air for a blaster, slugging it out for a powerhouse, etc. Complications: Agent: Ashley is technically a sworn law enforcement officer, but doesn't act as such while wearing her costume except for her duties to protect Jaycee Cahill. This is a complicated situation. Break: Ashley's complicated relationship with the Raven remains both a sore point and a point of pride. Copycat: Ashley isn't hiding her superpowers but she is keeping them to herself; she'll use them as a second resort rather than a first unless she needs to save a life. Duty: Ashley George is responsible for the life and well-being of the First Daughter, Jaycee Cahill. This is her highest priority - whatever she or Jaycee thinks about this. Enemy: Baron Samedi's drug empire indirectly killed Ashley's father. Given the chance, she'll go for him - minus her duty to Jaycee. Guns: Though Ashley's pistols are not actually firearms, they strongly resemble them (this is a way of distracting attention from the level of high technology she carries) - this may be something other heroes have trouble with. Lies: Ashley lied about how she'd developed her powers when she joined the Secret Service. Nobody Knows The Troubles I've Seen: Watchdog's personality is of necessity not very nice - she has to play the part of the gritty, unlikable vigilante as a way of making sure no one pays too much attention to her. Out of Town: At her core, Ashley is in many ways still a product of her conservative upbringing - even though she did learn to relax during her time at Claremont. Patriot: Ashley George loves the United States of America and all it stands for. Secret: Ashley George is a 26 year old Secret Service agent, not a teenager from an alternate universe! Split Personality: Ashley's powers occasionally result in her copying certain mental traits of those whose powers she steals - this annoyance is one of the reasons she doesn't do it very often. We Get The Job Done: Ashley is the biracial daughter of a first-generation immigrant. Who's That Girl: Ashley wears her helmet because while there aren't that many people who would recognize the workaholic wallflower that was Ashley George from her time at Claremont - or for that matter connect her with the heroine Copycat, there are a few. Abilities: 4 + 4 + 6 + 0 + 6 + 4 = 24PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 16 (+3) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 10 + 10 = 20PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +5 Base, +9 Gun, +9 Damage, +15 Mimic Defense: +9 (+5 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Grapple: +7 Knockback: -5/-2/-1 Saves: 5 + 6 + 5 = 16PP Toughness: +11/+5/+3 (+3 Con, +2 Defensive Roll, +6 Armor) Fortitude: +8 (+3 Con, +5) Reflex: +8 (+2 Dex, +6) Will: +8 (+3 Wis, +5) Skills: 72R = 18PP Bluff 8 (+10, SM) Climb 3 (+5) Concentration 2 (+5) Drive 3 (+5) Gather Info 3 (+5) Intimidate 8 (+10, SM) Investigate 5 (+5) Medicine 3 (+5) Knowledge (Civics) 5 (+5) Languages 2 (French, Vietnamese, Base: English) Notice 7 (+10, SM) Search 5 (+5) Sense Motive 7 (+10, SM) Stealth 8 (+10) Swim 3 (+5) Feats: 14PP All-Out Attack Defensive Roll 1 Dodge Focus 4 Equipment 15 (From Veteran Award) Evasion Interpose Power Attack Precise Shot 1 Quick Draw [Draw] Skill Mastery (Bluff, Intimidate, Notice, Sense Motive) Takedown Attack Well-Informed Equipment 15 PP 4EPs Masterwork Cellphone Masterwork Rebreather Masterwork Handcuffs Masterwork Tools (Craft [Mechanical]) Description: The Dawg looks like a decade-old Cadillac DeVille that's been modified by an experienced street mechanic into a fearsome road machine, perfect for a badass vigilante. The front of the car is modified to look like a snarling dog with headlights for eyes and snarling teeth around the grille, while the sound of its specially modified engine sounds distinctly like the growl of a large pitbull. It's fast and tough, easily capable of chasing down almost anything on the road - including metahumans! It's also completely bulletproof, with an internal life support system, built-in communicator and satellite phone, 'storage compartments' and an almost unbeatable onboard GPS. A close look reveals even more modifications - 5-inch armored doors, and "bulletproof glass so thick it blocks out parts of the light spectrum." run-flat tires, and a 454-cubic-inch engine.Confirmed accessories include "an integrated 10-disc CD changer, a foldaway desktop and reclining rear seats with massaging, adaptive cushions." It weighs about 14,000 pounds. At the touch of a button, it can turn itself into a normal-looking car - though it's still bright red. Normal mode The Dawg (STR 45 SPD 6 DEF 9 TOU 10 Size: Huge, Features: Alarm 2 [DC 25], Computer, Feature: Cellphone comm., Hidden Compartments, Navigation System Powers: Impervious Toughness 10, Immunity 9 (Life Support), Morph 6 (normal car), Super-Senses 4 (Radar) [55EP] Description: The Dawg Pound is a specially modified warehouse in Port Regal that looks perfect for the home of a gritty young vigilante. With space to park the Dawg and space to park her crew, it's a totally radical place. The fridge is stocked with diet soda and energy drinks, the freezer with frozen pizzas and chicken nuggets, the gym has equipment for punching away your inner demons to an angry techno soundtrack, the flatscreen TV in the rec room even has an XBox One with the latest games. It's angsty teen superhero paradise! Headquarters Array 9 (15EP, AP: Alternate Power 1) [16EP] BE: Dawg Pound [Size: Huge; Toughness: 20; Features: Communications, Computer, Concealed, Garage, Gym, Living Space, Power System, Security System, Workshop] The House is just a perfectly normal one-story white house with attached garage near the edge of Bayview, away from the city limits - what do you mean? Why would this house be special? AP: House Size: Small; Toughness: 15; Features: Communications, Concealed [4], Garage, Living Space, Power (Impervious + Immunity), Personnel (Other Secret Service Agents), Power System, Security System [2], Workshop Power: Immunity 9 (Life Support) + Impervious Toughness 10 {19/20} Powers: 7 + 17 + 32 + 2 = 58PP Damage 3 (Raven's Training, PFs: Accurate 2, Innate, Mighty) (training) [7PP] Device 4 (Watchdog Armor and Guns, 20DP, Flaw: Hard to Lose, PF: Restricted 1 [voiceprint]) (technology) [17PP] Blast 5 (pulsed energy projectiles; PFs: Accurate 2) [12DP] Protection 6 [6DP] Super-Senses 2 (Infravision, Ultravision) [2DP] Power Thief Container 5 (25PP Container, PFs: Accurate 5, Precise, Subtle 1 [psionic senses]) [32PP] (mutation) Fatigue 5 (Extra: Linked [Mimic, +0]) {10} + Mimic 5 (All Powers, 25PP; Extra: Linked [Fatigue, +0], Flaw: Tainted) {15} + = [10+15=25/25PP] Super-Senses 2 (Danger Sense [Mental], Uncanny Dodge [Mental]) (mutation) [2PP] Totals: Abilities (24) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (16) + Skills (18) + Feats (14) + Powers (58) - Drawbacks (0) = 150/150 Power Points
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