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Found 34 results

  1. Mutants have been with us since the beginning of human history, passing unnoticed because of their small numbers and government persecution. But since World War II, humans have been using and abusing mutants for their own ends. Now a mutant seeks to free his people, but he can’t do it alone… Interested in Magisterium? Start with these links! World History in Brief Operational Policies of DEHA Slang of the World DEHA-RUS Reference Database Ready to make a character? House Rules / FAQ PC and NPC Histories/Backgrounds PM your background and stats to Dawn OOC. Folks, welcome to our official OOC thread. Also, welcome to our new board! As always, a giant thanks to Chosen, as I didn't even get a chance to PM him before he set this up for us. Chosen, you are the best! Next, to business: Travis, I made those edits. I added a bit too. For the rest of you: if I get a description or visual wrong, please let me know. I'm always happy to alter my posts (though that will be done time permitting) to make the world more real. Third, I'd like everyone to put their character's history into the DEHA Offical Mutant Files; I'd like you to do it in the style of the OMF form. If you haven't picked a Codename, please either do so or have me pick one for you. Those who do it will get a 1 PP reward, so long as all the fields I created are filled in. I know that it's a bit unusual to have PCs and NPCs together, but you guys are all part of one world. Until we have a character subforum, this is the way I'd like to do it. There's PP in it for you! Sweet, sweet, PP... Last: Alts. I will allow Alts, as many as you like. Only one Alt may be active in a plot thread at a time (no, as a current example, having one in Stone and another in Conquest). I will only review and approve one Alt a month for a given player. All Alts will have a prelude with me before play starts. Alts may participate in fictions. Please be aware, most of the plot will center around David's group to start, at least until/if people leave on their own. If your Alt isn't going to be with the group to start, you might be a little lonely and at a loss. Feel free to start a school for mutants, if you like. With all that said: game on!
  2. Hi, folks, for 3.3's combat, can I get some actions and rolls? That way I can post and move us forward. ,, Here's the current initiative. ,, Tengri - 25 Nyght - 24 Soldiers - 22 Night Sorrow - 21 Prime - 20 Travis - 20 RR - 17
  3. Delhi – 7:30 a.m. local time ,, ,, Invaders had come once again to the city of cities, though this time they came without the intention of conquest through blood. Instead, the idea behind Delhi’s conquest was through the hearts of the Indian people. The Qutb complex had an Islamic temple as well as the Qutub Minar, an iron pillar erected by various Muslim invaders. The minar had degraded, as had numerous other monuments in the complex. ,, The area was the most visited site in India, having even more guests than the Taj Mahal. There were plenty of buildings and tombs in poor repair and there would be people around the area. The site hosted a major festival every year and while it wasn’t the right time of year for it, it still added to the number of people who would see the plan’s outcome. ,, The plan here was for something a little different: Mary was going to be the focal point. Her ability to restore an important monument had been Lamia’s idea, one that David had liked. So their plan was slightly different than the others and one that would likely be far more satisfying to Mary than any other.
  4. Tokyo – 11:00 a.m. local time ,, ,, The heart of Japan, home to the seat of government, the twenty-three cities and home of the imperial family: it was a bright and shining city, especially in the early morning light of a Saturday. Children hurried to and fro, free from school. Adults enjoyed early lunches or late shopping, depending on how they wanted to spend the day. The downtown of one of the busiest cities in the world was bustling. ,, Shibuya crossing was as busy as ever; cars rolled down its wide length until stopped by lights; then people flooded over the intersection. It was to this iconic location that David had sent the four mutants. The plan was simple – Idris would be hidden and waiting to provide backup. Edward was to stand with Grav; she was to make a big show and then – together or separately – they would announce their presence to the world and decry the evils of DEHA. Rebekka would be in the crowd to lead their responses to the desired outcome. ,, They’d been slipped into Japan the night before and put up in a hotel room in the Shibuya area. It gave them a chance to relax, feel out the city and clarify the details of their plan. David had given them the specifics and even a speech if they wanted it but the details were all theirs to determine.
  5. May 25th, 2012 0230 hours. 7 kilometers SW of Playa del Carmen, Mexico ,, It took some convincing, but Idris was getting annoyed smelling her burned clothes from a few days ago, so she went over her mental list and remembered a dead-drop she set up in Mexico for a extended mission she was on, taking down a drug-lord who had been dealing with a free-range mutant who could generate a drug from her skin that matched the effects of crystal meth. She had to take everything down, and she had left her gear in a dead-drop so she could sneak in the forests around the compound. ,, She showed Jaunt the coordinates, but oddly enough, she gave him retrieval coordinates for almost 4 hours from then, and almost 100 kilometers into the carribean sea off of the Yucatan coast. at 0600 hours. Right before sunrise. ,, She even said if she's not treading water there when he looks there at precicely at that moment, something went wrong, and he should abandon her. Wasn't much hair off of him as she is ported to her requested spot alone. Wearing nothing more than a black sports bra and some biking shorts. She didn't want to risk any guards smelling her burned fatigues. ,, She snuck through the jungle, observing the area around her Dead-Drop. There was a old box, still intact, that she used. It looked like she could store her stuff there for a year easily. ,, As she snuck around, she encountered a suprise. The mansion was back up and running... the guards walking the perimeter told it all. ,, "Bloody hell, a new cartel. They're like damned cockraoches." ,, Her ears pinned back. While there was no fences to her dead-drop, she would be within their perimeter. She would have to be clever. As she snuck through the growth there was the snapping of twigs. ,, The two guards spun their flashlights towards her direction, looking aruond as she took to the ground, just her shiny eyes visible. As they leveled their guns out into the night, she growled. ,, "Shit... there's a panther or something out here." ,, "You sure man?" ,, "Ya, see thsoe eyes?" ,, Idris squinted, keeping her growl as one of the guards leveled their rifle in her direction. ,, "Nah, man... she won't attack, not with what we got... let's keep goin'" ,, "Man... I wanna bag one of thos things and stuff it." "No... the last thing the boss needs is the federales bustin' down his door for shooting at endangered animals." ,, "Shit... Right... yer lucky bitch you're rare." ,, The two walk off, unaware that some 20 meters away and in the brush was a 5'8" cat-woman mutant holding back every urge to rush them and rip out their throats. She slinks through the brush, happy that in the night she could pass for a particularly large panther. ,, Soon she finds her drop-box. Opening it, she breaths a sigh of relief. The black waterproof bag was still sealed and intact, so everything inside was protected mostly from the humidity and tropical climate. She puts on the dark reddish bodysuit on, followed by the dark grey tactical vest that came with it. She checked her M1911A1, still loaded and looked like the day she packed it. There were some spare clips and some MREs that were close to expiration, but still sealed. Also the helmet she wore when she was air-dropped into that forest some 8 months ago. ,, She tossed the random left-over things into the black bag and zipped it back up. Starting to circle around to observe things further and formulate how to get out as undetected as she came in. ,, Suddenly she heard a sobbing. ,, Sneaking around behind the sobbing, she carefully peered through the dark. ,, It was a girl, no older than 12, clutching something in her hands. Bloody and injured, she looked very scared. The insect bites were not helping her situation. Idris could smell the minor infection she had in the large gash on her leg. ,, Suddenly the girl fell silent. ,, "Who... Who's there?" She weakly said. ,, "You're lost, child." Idris said, keeping her appearance hidden. ,, "N... No... You're not taking me back." ,, "I'm not. you're in a dangerous place. There's wild animals here that would eat you for dinner... Why are you here?" ,, "I'm... I'm... running away." ,, "From?" ,, "They kidnapped me a year ago..." ,, Idris took a closer look. She was not Mexican. She looked like she was American. By the accent... from Texas or a border state. ,, "Say no more." Idris said, her liverpool accent showing. ,, "Wait... are you a... soldier or something?" ,, "No... But the guy running that place is a dead man. What was he doing with you in there?" ,, "He... filmed me." ,, She shushed the girl. "I get it." And Idris did. She knew exactly what was going on. "Now I got a reason. The 307 is northwest of us, about a Kilometer away. Run and don't stop. I'm about to give you an opening." ,, She reached into her bag and put her helmet on after putting the hooded respirator on first so she could hide her face. She stepped out where the little girl could see her. "Someone hired me to take that guy down. What I want you to do is run. You never saw me, got it?" ,, The girl nodded, swallowing back her fear. Idris moved with purpose to where she knew the two guards she saw earlier were. She took off her gloves, stuffing them into a pocket on her vest before lining up. ,, She growled again and the guards once again were listening. But then she sprung out. The first guard didn't even have a chance as Idris' claws ripped through his neck. The second guard wheeled around with hsi rifle, but idris had faded into the forest. She took a moment to take her helmet and mask off, her growl more audible. ,, As the second guard stumbled backward his rifle went off through the trees, firing into the night. ,, "Bingo, asshole, I want the attention tonight!" ,, It wasn't long before her claws were into his chest and her mouth full of teeth had bit through his neck. She timed the 15 seconds until he bled out into unconciousness and shock. By the time she heard the jeep full of more guards, she had faded into the forest again, setting up another flank. Taking a rifle with her and the ammunition. ,, "Shit..." One of the guards that went to check only to find the eviscerated guards on the ground. A look of fear on the second. ,, "Looks like a Panther was out here alright. A pissed one." ,, "Yeah. Jose and Rodriguez were talkign about that over the radio." ,, Radio... important to note. Idris thought as the bodies were looked over... ,, To be continued
  6. London – 3:00 a.m. local time ,, ,, It admittedly wasn’t the best time to make a big reveal. David insisted however, namely for safety reasons. His outing in New York City, scheduled fifteen minutes ahead of everyone else’s, would draw the heaviest hitters of DEHA, possibly even from other countries. David was confident he, Matt and May could handle the Titans of DEHA. That left the second-stringers to deal with everyone else – if DEHA mounted a public response at all. ,, In Islington district, the mile-long Upper Street held many bars and restaurants. The former were just finishing kicking patrons out, while the latter were getting ready for an influx of drunk patrons. The streets were as busy as they were going to get at this time of night. ,, The cadence of drunken Londoners filled the early morning, disrupting the quietus of the half-sleeping city. The bright lights of Upper Street blazed as the mutants took up their positions.
  7. Edward buttoned the last button on his shirt and rolled the shirt sleeves up to his elbows. It was the first time since arriving that he had woken up early - four-thirty a.m. on the dot, though there was no clock to confirm it. It was the first time he'd woken since being rescued and hadn't to shake off confusion regarding where he was or what was real. He knew his history now, knew when he'd been taken and how much of his life had been a lie. Reading through his file had laid the questions and uncertainties to rest - now all that was left was to regroup, and take action. ,, Of course, there wasn't much action to take at four forty-one in the morning, in the jungles of Guatemala. He doubted there was anyone else awake, and seemed to remember that breakfast had usually been brought to him a couple hours later than this, on the mornings he'd noticed it at all. So he'd gotten up, and taken advantage of the morning quiet to utilize the shared restrooms. He relieved himself, and allowed himself a full two minutes longer than the normally allotted seven-minute shower he usually took. The facilities were crude, but welcome. He'd toweled off, and used the full-length mirror they'd somehow acquired and a razor blade he'd found lying about to shave. Then he'd made his way back to his simple room, behind the privacy of his blanket-draped doorway, to dress. ,, He pulled on his shoes and headed out, through the hallway towards the temple's back entrance. He climbed out of the hole in the ground with a bemused smirk - he'd stayed in worse conditions, but never fully underground before, and it amused him a bit to realize there were still new experiences after over a hundred years of living. Once he was outdoors, in the dim light of the jungle dawn, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. He had taken a drag or two of it before realizing that he heard something out of place. The jungle was full of strange sounds, especially in the still of the morning, but he was pretty sure that the soft sound of a woman singing wasn’t normally one of them. He made his way down along the wall of the temple, and then circled around towards Lamia’s hut. ,, The smell of baking bread and drying herbs greeted him the moment he rounded the corner of the temple, Lamia’s stone house coming into view across the cleared grounds immediately around the ancient building. She had a large hearth and gathering area with a stone tables and benches enough to seat as many as Edward had seen here and probably half a dozen more with ease. The woman herself was singing softly in a language Edward had never heard before as she went about her own morning routine: getting the fire started from the evening’s embers, starting the cooking for breakfast, checking on the drying herbs, the smoking meats, and the curing leather. Water had already been procured from the stream and set to heat in the stone cauldron, a light broth set to simmer for the afternoon meal. ,, She smiled as she lightly ran her hands over the buckskin leather she’d been carefully tanning over the past week and picked up a small stone jar, scooping out a handful of fat, spices, and other unknown but pungent ingredients. She began to methodically rub the into the leather, giving the buckskin a glossy shine and keeping it supple as it cured. There was a peaceful practiced rhythm to her movements, the song almost an afterthought to add melody to the beat of her actions. It was soothing to watch and Lamia was herself lost in the comforting repetition of a morning routine older than the stone of the temple Edward was standing next to. He stood and watched quietly for a moment as he smoked his cigarette. It was beautiful to him, her morning routine - he could feel the presence of time in it, like the peace one feels when traveling a well-worn road, or the feeling of sitting down with a cup of coffee and a newspaper every morning. Finally he moved closer, clearing his throat softly as he approached in order to get her attention. “Good morning, m’lady. What a delightful surprise - I didn’t expect to find anyone else up this early.” ,, She turned, still smiling, and nodded to him. “Well met this morning, Edward. I seem to usually be the first one to stir, or at least to I do not much see the others until breakfast is being served.” She motioned for him to join her in the gathering area, still methodically massaging the spiced fat into the leather, working her way from one corner to the opposite one. “Does something bring you out so early today?” ,, “This is my usual time to rise. In my virtual prison, and in my true life before that, I was a businessman. It has always been my practice to keep to a strict schedule whenever possible.. I’m not fond of wasted time. Waking up early allowed me to complete my morning duties early enough to...” To see the children off before work. He paused for a moment, as if he were about to say one thing, but then changed it to another. “...start my day off without rushing.” ,, She nodded, though her glance said that she’d caught the dissimulation, but she didn’t press the question. Edward was still mostly a stranger and it wasn’t Lamia’s way to pry. She had learned, over time, that most secrets came to light and that most people confided in the person who never asked the direct question. “I see. For myself, I find it comforting to see a true sunrise and hear the world waking. In my captivity they made a room with walls that appeared like woods or plains or sand and the ocean, and they made the sounds, but it was never the truth.” ,, She took a deep breath of the fresh jungle air and let it out slowly. “I enjoy the truth of these mornings.” ,, He nodded, with a sad smile. “My prison was too real - created by machines hooked in directly to my thoughts. I never knew it was fake until I was free of it. The truth is indeed a precious thing.” His eyes flickered over her space, as he took in everything she was occupied with. ,, “My father used to hunt, but the servants always took care of the details afterward. I’ve never seen anyone tan a hide before. May I?” He motioned to the jar, and she nodded slightly. He picked it up and sniffed it, his nose wrinkling slightly at the smell. “What's in it? How does it work?”
  8. Everyone was called together and gathered by David outside the Temple under the shelter of the trees. Matt and Mary had snaked a cable out into the trees, and set up a laptop on the table. There was also a plastic baggie of thumb drives on the table. Matt and David stood at the table, while Jack was too the side, his chair pushed up so he could see the laptop. Once everyone had settled and had focused on him, he smiled at the room and started. “Good afternoon. I wanted everyone to get settled before I thrust this on you in addition to getting used to life here. ,, “As many of you know, we have mentioned that May infiltrated DEHA, and many of you met her there first.” David gave his former lover a nod and if he felt anything about her being ‘former’ he didn’t show it now. “While she was there, she stole all of the DEHA files on mutants. At this time, I’d like to offer your files to those of you who are interested.” ,, “We have thumb drives that we can load these files onto,” Jack said from behind the table, “and then you can open them in private later. Alternatively, you can view them on this laptop right now.” ,, “And please remember – these are accurate as of the first rounds of liberations so they’re about three weeks old.” David shifted on his feet comfortably and looked around the group, waiting to see who had any objections or questions—or requests on how to get their files. ,,
  9. Travis awoke to an unusual level of silence. The temple, with it's thick solid stone walls, hardly tended toward an excess of noise, but it seemed more still than usual. The space beside him was both empty and cold; May had been awake and away for some time it seemed. He sat up and worked his tongue around his mouth as he brought a glass and a pitcher of water to the bed. Such casual use of his powers was so ingrained in him now that it as as unconscious as flying across the room would be to another, or creating the drink from nothing was to Mary. He drank his fill washing away the thirst before stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom. Half an hour later, washed, dressed, and feeling hungry, he shoved aside the door to May's room, their room, and went looking for something to eat. ,, In the kitchen, such as it was, he found some fruits and some not entirely stale bread. Travis snatched up a little of each and set them orbiting him as he started on a banana, likely fresh from nearby. Floating through the halls he finally caught up with Sol in one of the larger gathering rooms. The kinetic suppressed a frown, "Hey, where is everybody? It's like a ghost town around here." He really had no idea what to think about Sol at this point. In two weeks he'd more or less gotten over the fact that the other man had been with May while he was frozen. After that he had found himself regarding Sol as one regards a figure of legend or history, but David quickly proved himself entirely more real than that. This was no towering God or Titan, he was just a man and a mutant, the same as Travis, and that meant that he really stood above Travis by way of power and position. Maybe they weren't equals, but this man was certainly not one to worship either. That left Travis unsure of their relationship, and the lack of communication between them had not helped to establish a course. ,, David looked up, "They're all on missions, or dealing with the needs of supplies and the like." He went back to reading the sheaf of paper in his hand. "Take the chance to enjoy the quiet," he added as an apparent afterthought. ,, Travis' frown deepened. "Why am I here then?" ,, "What?" David looked up and seemed to actually notice Travis for the first time. "Come again?" ,, "Why I am apparently left to loaf around, if everybody else is out on missions and stuff?" Travis was more than ready, willing, and able to kill humans, especially DEHA agents. ,, It was Sol's turn to frown. The expression slid into place like clouds crossing the sun before it melted away in similar fashion. "Because your talents weren't required this time out." ,, "Oh." Travis took a deep breath and chewed on a hunk of something that tasted like a pear. "Is this about the thing in Germany?" ,, Sol's frown made another cameo, "Kind of, but not entirely." The older man put the papers he was reading to the side, "Listen kid, honestly you weren't needed. A bunch of them were sent into a city to scout and secure some living space, another couple were sent on an infiltration, and I sent Fahrenheit and Grav out to deal with Silberman, mostly cause I didn't figure that Fahrenheit would rest until she did. That's her revenge to get and the two of them are more than enough to deal with him." ,, "And?" Travis asked around a mouthful. ,, "And, yeah, a little of it is because of Germany. Don't get me wrong, you probably did more to save everybody than not, but you also lost control and put the others at risk in the process. You crippled that kid, he might have joined us otherwise, and ..." ,, "And so now none of them trust me right? I'm just the psycho who lost control." TK dropped into a chair, "You know what happened to May and I. You know that that leech was there. It's no different than what Fahrenheit wanted to do to Silberman, I just-" ,, "You just put your fellows in harms way in the process." David shook his head, "I get it, I do, but they don't. These people are your people Travis, and I'm sure they'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but try and see it from their side. Heck, try to see it from my side. I, they, need to know that you won't cause as much mayhem to our own as you do to the DEHA. You've got amazing power and potential, but I can't make use of that if all I can do is drop you like a bomb into an area I need blasted into rubble. I need you to be a weapon, but not a WMD. OK?" ,, Travis sighed, frowning, and ripped a hunk of bread in half, stuffing a portion into his mouth. He nodded though. "Besides," Sol continued, "by keeping you behind, if the others get into trouble and need extraction, we have somebody ready to lend a hand, and for that you do seem more than capable. Your hatred of captivity, understandable as it is, makes you ideal to keeping our people, and yourself, out of DEHA hands." ,, "Ok." Travis left it at that. They sat in silence as he finished his meal. Finally the younger mutant broke the silence once more. "I have a question, and I don't think I can ask May." David looked up, surprise on his face. "What did the DEHA do to me while they had me?"
  10. Edward Mansfield had a schedule. He held to it more or less diligently; his major deviations were due to his family. This morning, for example, he would have normally been in his shower by 6:45 a.m.; instead he was five minutes and seven seconds late because he had to stop and mediate an argument between his children. To compensate for that lost time, he took one minute less in the shower and cut his breakfast short by the remainder. Before leaving for work, Edward checked his phone, frowning when he saw his first appointment of the morning. It was at his home, which was irregular. Still frowning, he called his assistant. “Yes, good morning, Sebastian. Please look at my first appointment today. What do you see?” “A meeting with Mr. Urianhai and Mr. Canis about the Bankhurst deal.” His excessively competent assistant was cheerful until he added, “Odd, it’s… It’s scheduled to be at your house.” “Yes, I saw. That’s why I called, to confirm.” Edward didn’t ask if Sebastian had scheduled the appointment; he didn’t need to ask. “Sir, I don’t know what happened; I’d never schedule anything at your home.” His assistant’s sincerity was impossible to fake. “It must be an error.” The doorbell rang and Edward’s frown deepened. “I believe they are here. Find out what happened so it doesn’t happen again.” “Yes sir.” Now Sebastian sounded worried, but Edward didn’t have time to comfort him. He hung up and headed for the front door, opening it to see two men on the step.
  11. May 22, 2012, Rio de Janeiro Isaac leaned against the railing of his balcony and breathed in the sea air. The weather was a perfect seventy degrees Fahrenheit and the sky and sea were both an impossible shade of blue. The stark white of the railing of his balcony was almost harshly white in the bright sun. Two stories below, giggling caught his ear. When Isaac looked down, he saw two Latina woman in bright sundresses. They glanced up and happened to catch him looking; they giggled some more and waved. They knew a tourist when they saw one in the pale, pasty flesh. Isaac was cute enough that they wouldn’t mind letting him buy them some drinks. That’s what tourists were for, after all. Isaac chuckled uneasily and waved before withdrawing from the balcony. The jet lag had settled into his bones and Isaac decided to lay down for a bit. He was excited to be in Rio for his all-expense paid trip but he wasn’t going to enjoy himself if he was exhausted. Plus, there was a show and dinner tonight at a dinner-theatre. Still smiling, Isaac laid down. As he passed out, his last thought was, This will be the best vacation ever. “I need you all to establish a safe place for us in Rio.” The announcement from David was something of a surprise. He’d never mentioned taking them to a city or working on a place in a civilized area. “I’m choosing you because you can all blend. Thanks to May’s actions, we have passports for you, fake identities. “What I need you to find is housing for us. Rent or buy. Something on the outskirts of Rio, where our coming and goings won’t be noticed.” David smirked. “I know that’s a tall order, but we’re going to need access to civilization. Tyrone will get you to an area outside the city proper.” “So… what’s the plan after we get a house?” Rebekka asked. David smiled slightly. “Focus on this step. The next step comes later.” The smile turned into a chuckle as Rebekka crossed her arms and started to pout.
  12. “I know it’s what you want.” David was smiling at Farhenheit, his mouth curved up in a little quirk. It wasn’t quite a positive expression, but it was hard to say what exactly was wrong with it. “So I’m not expecting any argument.” “You’re letting me hunt Silberstein?” The flames that compromised the woman seemed to flare hotter for a moment. “You’re giving him to me.” “Of course.” David watched the expression that crossed her face with bemusement, wondering if she looked nearly-orgasmic at the thought of killing most people or just this man. “He deserves to die after what he did to you. But. There’s a condition.” Farhenheit’s eyes narrowed. “What condition, Atum?” “We are a family, a fraternity of mutants. We share burdens and pains. So I’m sending Grav with you, as backup.” David leaned forward and looked at both women. “Is that a problem?”
  13. May 7, 2012, 9:45 p.m. Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center April Wolcott and Scott Harrison were getting married. It was a gala affair that was the buzz of the Washington D.C. social circuit. April Wolcott was the daughter of the British Ambassador to the United States, Marcella Wolcott. Scott Harrison was the son of U.S. Senator Richard Harrison, a hardcore warhawk Republican from Florida. The social and political implications of the evening were a minefield. The Democratic President, Jonathan Henshall, needed Harrison’s support for a Medical and tax bill that had been a key point of his campaign. Harrison’s support for this sort of thing was grudging at best, but the promise that Henshall would protect Harrison’s pet weapons project in exchange for support made this alliance a possibility. For now, Henshall had to play nice and attend the wedding and reception. The International Trade Center, or ITC for short, was the site of the wedding and reception. The lavish wedding was to be held in the Atrium; its 125 foot tall skylight, marble and granite floor and bold columns created the perfect place for a wedding of power and prestige. The reception would be held in the Atrium Hall, while there would be dancing in the Ballroom. The guest list numbered in the hundreds; anyone who was anyone in the U.S. Capital had been invited – and would probably come. The riff-raff were not invited, and it was here that Mirage, Rebekka and May found themselves. They were clothed appropriately for their roles – Mirage and Rebekka were in the most fashionable dresses Mary could create. May was dressed nicely as well, but she was going to work the crowds outside – and provide a distraction should it be needed. It was a trial by fire- '[i Yesterday...']May 6, 2012 Home David grinned at the two women who had entered the room. May was already there, lounging in her ‘base’ form, a woman with black hair and green-blue eyes. While similar to Raven’s image, this woman appeared to be far more innocent and younger than Raven had been. “Sorona, Rebekka, thanks for coming.” “Tyrone hinted that you had plans for us. Something about… the President?” Rebekka asked this with a coy tone, but David didn’t seem to take it personally. The powerful mutant’s smile didn’t change as he waved the two women to a seat. “I do have plans. We need, more than anything else, information. Specifically, military codes for satellites. If we have those codes, we can use the United States’ satellites to monitor the DEHA.” David smiled thinly. “Sorona, I’d like you to help Rebekka determine who she needs to sleep with to get those codes. Rebekka, I think you understand by now what we need from you. May’s faces are known to DEHA until she develops another, so she’ll have to remain outside for now. She’ll be there in case things go wrong.” “There’s one more catch.” May didn’t act like it was a problem as she said, “We don’t have invitations to the wedding reception. It’s the only place to have this kind of public access to the people in the highest positions of power but we don’t have the pull to get you into the party. You’ll have to find your own way in.” -but somehow, it seemed more fun this way.
  14. [Continued from 1.3] The yawning black hole opened before the rag-tag group flying over Germany, exactly as planned. Travis felt relief as he angled the flying disk through the hole. After the fuck-up that this fight had been, he just wanted to hole up with May and bitch to her about the sheer amount of crazy in their growing group. They burst through into the morning light of highlands of Tibet. Tyrone and Jack both frowned, while Ty-ty squealed with delight. “You found her!” the child cried happily. “And you rescued others!” “Damnit! I hope we have enough spray for everyone. Get that boy over here, before they bounce the signal to detonate his collar off a satellite.” Jack was already digging in a bag for the bottle of freezing chemical. “Maybe Jeremy can make more if needed.” Tyrone had already hefted the sensor. “Let’s see how many microchips they have hidden in these poor guys.” He shook his head. “Man, they gave them a beating for trying to escape, didn’t they?”
  15. DEHA OMF Subject: David Bryant Keir lassification: Titan Status: Code Omega Designation No.: 99002451 Codename: Sol Vital Statistics Height: 1.88 m Weight: 77.3 kg Hair: Brown Eyes: Gray Age: 39 Known History: Born to Scottish immigrants in Melbourne, Keir had a relatively normal life. He was the only boy of four children, and doted on by both his mother and his father for it. His sisters were annoyed by it, but he was also the baby of the family, which gave them dress-up rights. From the start, there were signs that Keir wasn’t normal; he naturally had a higher temperature than normal and his mother couldn’t remember him being sick. He loved being outside and in the sun; he seemed to have a special vitality and glow when he was in the sun, according to her testimony. The downside was that he was seemingly a pyromaniac; there were unexplained burns around the house. The reason for all of this was revealed when he was ten. The Keirs were taking a family trip to the Gold Coast for a vacation when the train derailed. It plunged off a bridge and into the river below. In desperation, Keir unleashed the power he wasn’t aware he had. Deep below the dark waters, a miniature sun flared into life and melted a hole in the train, freeing the trapped passengers. Everyone on board made it off, but not without witnessing Keir’s rescue. Fortunately, the DEHA was on-site to assure people that nothing of the sort had happened. When people began to suffer from radiation burns, the authorities found a convenient dirty bomb, planted by terrorists on the bridge. Keir and his entire family disappeared into the Australian Mutant Control Division. Partnered with the DEHA, the AMCD put a lid on the entire affair and declared the family dead. They were all buried, both literally and figuratively. His mother and father fell victim to radiation poisoning; their deaths both spared them from learning what happened to their children and allowed the scientists to understand that Keir had channeled the power of the sun. All of his sisters were rapidly assessed and found to be mutants as well; the two oldest were Icaruses and shunted into a breeding program. The third daughter, Amanda Keir (codename: Brawl) began to develop massive strength and body power. She was naturally producing steroids but they sterilized her. She was eventually traded to the United States for another breeder. As his powers grew, his mutant tell became more apparent: Keir glows when in dim lighting and is always hot to the touch, as if feverish. When he uses his powers, he glows even more brightly, sometimes blinding opponants. Keir was put to good use by the AMCD, aiding his oppressors in missions from search and rescue to assassinations. Until age 18, Keir did as he was told, following orders exactly. When he learned one of his sisters had died in childbirth, he asked permission to attend her funeral. That was when he learned there was no funeral; after the autopsy, she was cremated and her ashes dumped in a medical waste bag. The mutant snapped psychologically and attacked his handlers. For the next ten years, control of him was possible only through near-constant kytone doses. When the dosages became prohibitively high, DEHA ordered him terminated. The attempt was made but Keir escaped in the confusion, releasing two other mutants, Quake and Slipface. Today, his whereabouts are unknown though he has been linked to several terrorist incidents.
  16. Geneva, Switzerland - January 2000 Standing in the luxurious, marble bathroom of Jacobus Schonland's suite at the Grand Hotel Kempinski, Rebekka braced herself on the elegant vanity with one hand, the other pressing her fingers against her smooth brow. Her head felt tight and cold, the pain a squeezing vice, like a migraine mated with an ice cream headache. It was a week into the new millenium and she had been in Geneva with the president of the South African Council for Scientific and Industrial Research, attending a grand symposium at the CERN complex. She had spread her legs for eighteen men and one woman, counted among the greatest physicists and astrophysicists in the world, so Jacobus could cherry-pick their ideas and research for his own. She had little but contempt for the administrator of CSIR who fancied himself a preeminent scientist. He was mediocre at best, earning his position as the head of CSIR purely on the legacy of his grandfather. Basil Schonland, now there had been an impressive man, the first president of CSIR. He had started the collaboration between certain sections of CSIR and the DRM, using the skills and gifts of mutants to advance the scientific and economic progress of South Africa, instead of for his own self-aggrandizement. And even as a man well past his prime, he had been a considerably more inventive and energetic lover than his grandson. He had taken an instant interest in her when she had been inducted into the DRM and had shared his bed several times since she was sixteen, so he could have an equal to confer with. Rebekka scowled at the mirror, at the woman she saw there. She was the most sexually experienced and enticing woman in the world and Jacobus insisted on her taking his wife's appearance, if a somewhat idealized version. Fok! He even fucked her with the same lazy and pedestrian technique, though she coaxed some more stamina out of him. But Jacobus wasn't the cause of the pain piercing her brain like an icepick. She believed it was the nineteen people she had sleep with over the last week. It was not because it was an onerous amount - she had had more sexual partners in a single day before - or that all save one was a meek, lackluster, and uninspired lover - the woman in particular had been horribly repressed - but rather, despite all having individual lives, the central focus of those lives were so depressingly similar: Physics, science as religion. It dominated every aspect of their lives. It was too much of the same thing in too short of a time. Even the finest wine lost its savour if imbibed with every meal. Now, she wanted beer, coke, fruit juice, and hard liquor. Anything else. And she was going to get it, even if it led to being punished. In the mirror, she watched her lips twist into a crooked grin as she shivered. Unwillingly or not, she'd enjoy the punishment more than the throbbing of too many similar Doors swinging open and shut in her head. She got dressed in an understated, cream skirt suit and strode out of the suite, taking in the shadowed view of Lake Geneva and the Jura mountains through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the way to the door. The plush carpets muffled the sound of her heels, the silence of the room broken only by the snores of Jacobus Schonland - it was past 2am local time, and she had exhausted him. The concierge looked up in mild surprise as she entered the lobby, but knew better than to question a guest at the five-star establishment. He nodded in acquiescence as she asked him to call her a cab and a few minutes later, the doorman got the door for her and handed her into the yellow sedan.
  17. I am starting a long overdue tracking thread for Hero Points. To start, please note below what Hero Points you currently have; I'll compile them into one post. Then, going forward, I'll update after each round. I need people to mark clearly when they use their HP. And by 'clearly', I mean something like the following examples: Matt's attack roll: 1+8 = 9 HP REROLL: 4 (14)+8 = 22 Matt is using Extra Effort to add an AE to his Earth Array. Spending HP at the end of the turn to negate Fatigue
  18. February Experience for PCs: <table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Name </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> Award </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Comments </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Dog </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Fenris </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Gold </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Grav </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Lamia </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Mary </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Mirage </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Noctis </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Rebekka </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> <tr> <td style="width: 103px;"> Travis </td> <td style="width: 84px;"> 1 </td> <td style="width: 213px;"> Prologue </td> </tr> </tbody></table> NOTE: PCs can earn an additional PP by completing their DEHA OMF.
  19. May 7, 2012 Umatilla Military Correctional Facility Umatilla was something of a legend among conspiracy nuts. It was labeled as a military prison, but there didn’t seem to be many prisoners listed there. As just one example, there was a Tiffany Schmit listed among the prisoners. She’d been convicted of treason and the records were sealed. Her family had been trying to get her released for eight years, to no avail. It was cases like this – where people were imprisoned under secretive reasons, where the government was telling people, ‘Trust us, really’ – that made Umatilla so notorious. What made the conspiracy people drool was the fact that an inordinate amount of resources, men and space was dedicated to imprison less than twenty people. Of course, those were just the official prisoners. Located in the dry mountains of Eastern Oregon, it was highly inaccessible. It was off of Up Middle Fork Rd, but vehicles without at least of foot of clearance were not making it up the narrow path. Most people and supplies were flown in by helicopter, which was the most reliable way in and out. Walking or horseback might get you close, but unless you had a way over the Constantia-wire fences, you probably weren’t getting into the facility. Of course, the four people now approaching didn’t need horses. Between their own skills and the skills of their companions, the fences were not a big deal. They crossed the ‘Border Zone’ – the area between the fences and the facility proper – in no time. Now the prison, a squat brown building, was just in front of them. All of the attackers knew the facility. They’d all see the map recently. They may not have to even enter. The goal was get one of their own out, and he was planning on meeting them halfway. Yesterday... May 6, 2012 Home Grav – at least one of her personalities – Gold, Jeremy and Matt were all in the planning room when David entered. “Now that we’re all here,” Jack started, “I’d like to go over the plan. Then we’ll be asking if you’ll go along, help us out.” “It is completely voluntary.” David’s interjection was probably unnecessary, but he made it anyway. “All we’re asking of you to stay here is help with provisions, but this is above that. This is war and I’m not conscripting any mutant into the conflict. Go on, Jack. Sorry to interrupt.” “Not a problem. We have an operative named Randall who is currently imprisoned in the Umatilla Military Correctional Facility. It’s a prison for mutants and humans alike. Most of the humans there have been convicted of collaboration or treason regarding mutants. We have little idea as to the internal layout but we know that there are three wings: Alpha, Beta and Gamma. Alpha is high security and that’s where Russell has been kept. His mission is to retrieve another mutant codenamed Foresight and files of her precognitive predictions.” “She can actually see the future?” Jeremy looked intrigued. “According to DEHA files yes. Her abilities were fairly minor to start and affected only large scale events. But they are getting more and more precise, and it’s just a matter of time before she forecasts something about us.” David looked grim. “She’s a program baby, and we’re going to try to get her out of there and show her the world. Give her a wakeup call like we did Mary.” “She’s in Beta Wing, and Russell’s going to break out and head for her. His signal is that you guys will start blowing things up.” Jack picked up the details of the plan again. “He’s also going to get the recordings of her prognostications, if he can. But that’s secondary to getting her.” “Are we ready?” Matt looked at the three of them. “Just give the word and we’ll get this party started.”
  20. May 7, 2012 Staging Site in rural Tibet “Shit. Shit!” Jack’s cultured British voice wasn’t used often for profanity, but when it was, it had an impact. “What’s going on?” Tyrone asked, looking up from his surveillance of the phones. He was waiting for the calls for evacuation. “A mutant escaped yesterday from a German facility.” Jack looked up from the communication hub he was monitoring. At some point, DEHA was going to figure out that the mutants could peek into this emergency channel and they’d alter the protocols. Until then, it was a resource for them. “They’re setting a trap to catch her today. It looks like it might work –they’re using a nullifier to take her down.” “We already have missions going on.” Tyrone’s statement was delivered reluctantly. He was quiet, then scooped up the phone. “I’m going to go back really quickly and round up everyone who can help. Then I’ll be back.” Jack hesitated; there were few things he liked more than altering a plan, particularly if that could result in the possible failure of the plan. But the whole idea, the entire purpose to what they were doing was to save their people. And one of them needed saving. “All right. Make it fast and be sure they have a phone for extraction.” * * * DEHA facility in Southern Germany Seeker had been loaded on a plane yesterday and flown somewhere. All he knew is that he’d crossed the Atlantic in the night and was somewhere over Germany. This had the feel of another mutant hunt, and the young man stared moodily out the plane window. When they off-loaded him, he was hustled into a building. It was a standard military complex, one of dozens that Seeker had seen in his time with DEHA. He was marched into a room where a couple of other men were already seated. There was a short, dark-haired man whose face brought to mind yard gnomes; Seeker had worked with him before. If Cancel was here, this was definitely a mutant hunt. The other man was probably the muscle: he was slim and blond with an intense gaze that seemed to take in all the details of a room. Like Seeker, they were in AMP collars. The door opened one more time and a group entered. One of the members was a boy in his early teens; he took the open seat between Seeker and the blond without a word to anyone. The other men were clearly DEHA and they opened the briefing immediately. “This is Farhenheit.” An image of a woman made of flame appeared on the screen behind the man giving the briefing. “She’s exceptionally dangerous and completely crazy. Yesterday, she escaped from German custody so it falls to all of you to get her back. We’ve arranged for a capture outside of Passau, Germany. Her tracking chip shows she’s in the region and we have someone she really wants to kill. We’ve leaked where he’ll be for her to come and find him.” A satellite image replaced the woman behind the military man briefing them. It showed a wooded area, remote and perfect for staging a balls-out mutant fight. “I’m going over what everyone’s roles will be in this operation. Seeker, you’re our hound, as normal. Assist where you can. Cancel, take out her powers as fast as you can, before she kills someone. In particular, the doctor we’re using as bait is to be protected. Strike-” The young boy looked up at that. “-you’re going to protect Dr. Silverstein from damage, taking attacks for him if necessary. Hopefully she’ll think twice about attacking you. Prime, you’re to take her on in the air. Seeker and Cancel, this is Strike and Prime’s first mutant hunt, so feel free to share your wisdom with them. We’re all in this together.” * * * After gathering up everyone at Home who was willing to go, Tyrone jumped them all back to the staging ground in Tibet. “Everyone, here’s what we know. Fahrenheit is a flame-based mutant who escaped from the facility holding her in Germany. She’s now in Southern Germany. DEHA is setting a trap for her south of Passau, Germany in a wooded area. They’re using her former doctor to draw her out. We’d like you guys to go get her, keep her free and get her home.” “Easy enough, right? Let’s get this baby rolling.” Tyrone turned from them and began to open up a warp, making the way for them. “Does she look like a flame controller?” Fenris asked. “Oh, you can’t miss her.” Jack nodded firmly. “She’s quite distinctive.”
  21. (Time and date indeterminable - sometime in the not so distant past.) Days turn blue to gray… Sascha stared out of the tiny window in her cell. Clouds gathered and darkened the sky and she felt today was a special day. She turned around and her gaze fell on the high-security door just across the room… or cube, as she referred to it. For the last 4 years it was the only space she knew besides the “walks” she had to take in the asylums park. It was a beautiful park for sure if it wasn’t for her being literally imprisoned there. Her daily dosage of sedatives and medications had been already administered to her but somehow the full effect didn’t deploy today. Instead she felt her just underneath her skin… waiting patiently to be unleashed. It was a long time she felt her… it was a long time she heard from her… it was a long time she felt the urge… The red light in her cell turned on and almost as if it was a automated process she turned around to face the wall and put her hands on her back. Then she slowly slided into a crouching position with her knees balancing her against the wall. As her head brow settled on the cold wall she spoke out monotonously “Ready when you are, Dr. Silberman” The door opened with a heavy clacking sound and in stepped two guards and an elderly man in a Doctors apron. He nodded to the guards who proceeded to lay Sascha in chains, making sure that both her hands and her feet didn’t give much space but for little steps to walk. One guard behind her and one guard to her left she started to walk outside of her cell and turned to the left down the hallway which led to the asylums Park. “No, Ms. Kindler… the other way, please” objected Dr. Silberman and took the lead down the hallway to the right which led to a simple white door – Dr. Silbermans office. Sascha wasn’t sure if yet another year had passed and she was due for her psychological exam but she turned nonetheless and followed Dr. Silberman. “Take your seat, Ms. Kindler.”, said Dr. Silberman, pronouncing the last syllable as he sat down himself. “You know the procedure, so lets get this started.” He took a small sip of his glass of water and opened a file folder containing Saschas medical history. “Do you still believe that there is an entity in your subconscious mind, waiting to be released in a blaze of fire?” his voice sounding mockingly. Sascha knew the procedure all too well and she knew no matter what she said, she could never convince Dr. Silberman of her mental stability. Today it didn’t seem to matter, though. She knew the truth, she felt it. Fade out... Fade in... The constant dripping of water on cold stone echoed through Sascha’s mind. Her body ached all over, even breathing felt painful and exhaustive. The cell was dimly lit and she could hear the squeals of rats scurrying around. She felt an odd itching pain on the back of her head and reached with her hand to feel for it and realised that she was shaved bald. She tried to stand up but the pain in her legs was unbearable. Gritting her teeth she managed to pull herself across the floor to her bed tears running down her cheeks both of frustration and pain. Obviously she was thrown forcefully into the cell and not taken care for where she landed. Bloodstains gave the floor an eerie sense of doom… as if she would never make it out of there alive. Almost screaming from the pain she managed to drag herself on the bed before she lost consciousness and oblivion darkened her mind. Visions of flame and fire coursed through her subconscious mind. Fire was virtually everywhere – in space, on the streets and in the darkest corners of her soul. Encircled by lashing flames Sascha tried not to be burned and to her surprise the fire didn’t harm her. The dancing flames slowly formed a face vaguely resembling hers and spoke just one word. "Burn" Fade out... Fade in... Maybe she was getting crazy. Sascha remained on the floor and looked at the ceiling. She barely felt the cold stone floor or the bruises of her encounter with the ‘caretaker’. Though her body ached all over she couldn’t remove the smile on her face. Her breaths got interrupted by uncontrollable fits of chuckling and laughter. It felt like an out-of-body experience. The same thing people who lay in a coma described. Sascha registered the world around her through an odd haze of dreamy fog. Her movement strangely delayed from the decision to the actually motion. From the distance she could hear the alarm and the clacking of boots. Something has happened… something that had spared her from getting raped. She wondered if all this was making sense. If the dream she had was connected to this. Her mouth was dry and she bled from her nose but she didn’t cared. The rhythmic sounds around her carried her thoughts away and she remembered a song she heard years ago. She's not a girl who misses much. Do do do do do do, oh yeah She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand Like a lizard on a window pane. The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors On his hobnail boots Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy Working overtime A soap impression of his wife which he ate And donated to the National Trust. I need a fix 'cause I'm going down. Down to the bits that I left uptown. I need a fix 'cause I'm going down. Mother Superior jump the gun Mother Superior jump the gun Mother Superior jump the gun Mother Superior jump the gun. Happiness is a warm gun (bang, bang, shoot shoot) Happiness is a warm gun When I hold you in my arms And I feel my finger on your trigger I know nobody can do me no harm Because happiness is a warm gun. Yes it is Humming its melody she smiled to herself "Yes it is..." (OOC:Lyrics taken from Tori Amos - Happiness is a warm gun) Fade out... Fade in... The disjointed feeling did not go away. She didn't know how long she sat there, humming and interrupting herself with laughter, but it felt like a cleansing eternity. She rocked back and forth, and hugged her secrets tight. The vision came to her again. Not suddenly, like usual...it just sort of drifted up. Her other self, wreathed in fire, walked toward her. The air pressure in the room seemed to change when Sascha saw her. The finger pointed. The woman spoke as always, said the only thing Sascha had ever heard her say. "Burn!" Sascha thought about it for a moment. While she thought, the door clanged and began to open. Her attacker had returned. ***** The orderly grinned at the sight of the new girl cowering in the corner. She might have thought he forgot, or was scared. He didn't get scared. Once he saw that the staff was watching the news, all about some satellite, he knew for sure no one would come down here anytime soon. His lust had cooled, but he felt himself getting hot all over again. He stepped forward. "Where were we?" She just looked up at him, a blank expression on her face. He frowned a bit. That wasn't right. She was gonna react to him. He took off his belt, and wrapped the end around his fist. The buckle dangled. He moved closer to her. ***** Permission, she decided. That is what her other was giving her. Relief flooded her body, and she saw the man standing over her. Over his shoulder, her other self whispered to her. "burn." Sascha grinned. She spoke aloud. "Okay." Fade out... Fade in... Again she felt droplets of water on her skin. It felt alien and her skin didn’t get wet. Instead the droplets which were heralding the rain they’ve been birthed from evaporated the moment they touched her. Reaching for her head images of an inferno and the bright light of the sun flashed through her mind. Sascha tried to focus on her surroundings but only managed to smell something akin to tar. The images kept disorienting her, as if she was assaulted by flashlights. Eachtime an image burnt into her eyes, the caretaker’s face distorted in agony, melting metal bars and strangely deformed plastic tables. The images seemed to come directly out of a Salvador Dali painting. Sascha didn’t know how she came to her feet and she stumbled around trying to reach out for something to hold on to when she suddenly stopped sobered up by surprise… or was it shock? She stared at her hands which were a crimson red but the color was slowly fading away until it resembled her normal rather pale complexion. Looking around she had difficulties to process what she saw… a huge crater of molten concrete – and she was standing right in the middle of it. “Oh my god…”, the images flashed again through her mind and as if that wasn’t frightening enough she started to hear voices or screams to be more precise, deathscreams. “It was…”, she couldn’t finish the sentence but the truth dawned on her. She relinquished to the voice in her head and what she saw now was the consequence of it… of losing control. Terrified by the damage she had caused Sascha started to run unaware that her clothes had been burned off her body, too. Fade out... Fade in... Falkenberg? FALKENBERG?!? They’ve actually sent her to the “Karl Bonhoeffer Klinikum” or “Bonnies Ranch” for those who knew what transpired within once you got transferred to it. Sascha felt a strange satisfaction as she looked back at the devastation. She knew she must’ve killed dozens of people – IF it was her doing - but she didn’t feel any remorse. A car passed by and honked at her and she heard a male voice yelling at her as one of the passengers obviously saw her nakedness. She wasn’t sure if she really understood what he said and decided to don’t bother about it. The ground felt warm and malleable. The asphalt must’ve melted a bit from the intense heat behind her. Knowing that she would be in great trouble if someone found her near the Asylum she ran towards Falkenberg keeping a lookout for any buildings on the road. Sascha ran like she never ran before. She felt her legs cramping and the pain almost paralysed her but she managed to stay on her feet – then she ran some more. In the distance she could make out a small building and she immediately headed towards it. Her legs were killing her and her lungs almost rattled from the exertion yet instead of collapsing from the strain her body kept her going providing her with enough endorphins and adrenaline. As she got closer she recognised the building – it was a rest stop, a bit off the road and there were two cars and a truck parked just behind it. Through the windows she could see people sitting at tables and having their coffee or a small snack before they went on with their trip. Deciding against going into the building and causing some major uproar she walked around the building and approached it from the parking lots hiding at the truck and waiting for its driver to come back. Fade out... Fade in... While she was waiting, she heard the sound of a helicoptor. Mentally she subtracted the sound, until she felt the wind whipping her bare skin. The copter landed in the field to the south of the rest stop, at the edge of the parking area. As Sascha watched, two women jumped out of the copter and approached her. One carried a bundle under her arm "Ms. Kindler?" The one without the bundle shouted above the noise of the helicopter. Sascha was too dumbfounded to do anything but nod. The woman with the bundle unfurled it to reveal a tee shirt, jeans, and sandals. She gave them to Sascha, who quickly pulled on the clothing. She looked around. People at the rest stop were starting to come towards the copter. "We want to take you away from here!" the first woman shouted, "Some place safe!" Her German was heavily accented. "Please," the second one yelled, "won't you come with us? We can help answer your questions!" Her German was similarly flawed. Fade out... Dr. Silberman’s office The elderly man shook his head and closed the file. He was dealing with her since the early 90s and she had managed to escape again and again. Each time the DEHA managed to recapture her before more damage was done. And each time he had to explain he had things under control – that it was part of her therapy and he had to revaluate her dosage of Kytone. The latter was getting exceedingly difficult. Sascha responded less and less predictable under the influence of Kytone. While it still had the desired effect and Dr. Silberman could exclude a building resistance to the drug Sascha’s behaviour certainly... adapted. Dr. Silberman added another report to her file and started to speak. “Sascha is showing an unusual reaction to the general treatment. While we managed to condition her and get her to do what we want I’m still not certain if we can move on to the next stage and take advantage of her more destructive abilities under controlled conditions. The risks are still too high.”, there was a short sigh followed by this statement. “If I could only find a way to reach to her core personality. Creating Sascha took us roughly one year until we got a stage to work with but progress has been... stagnating ever since. There are days I feel like we’re making good progress and then she suddenly slips away. Her disorientation increases and putting more pressure on her makes my work near impossible. Maybe my assumptions were wrong but I’ve never encounter anyone like her before. Her adaptability is... amazing. If I could get her under full control she’d be an invaluable asset for the Department.” Finish recording.
  22. The warp opened into a tree canopy. It was dark enough that reading would have been difficult. There was almost no growth; the thin soil had only scrawny plants growing in it. It was hot and humid; the air was thick with moisture. It smelled like the wilderness, and the scent of water hung in the air. Animals were screaming in alarm at their sudden appearance. Ahead of them, a hesitation in the density of trees revealed an old temple. The stone rose in stairs and blocks, though some of it was crumbling. Matt grinned and stepped backward, waving them away from the temple. “The under-canopy entrance is back here.” Now his smile was proud as he explained, “I added this entrance so we wouldn’t risk being seen coming and going by spy satellites.” “Where are we?” Rebekka asked softly. “We’re in Guatemala.” Jack was being picked up by David; clearly he found this undignified but he continued to share his information as he was carried like a child. “Almost in Mexico. This is an old Mayan temple, refurnished courtesy of our earthmover.” Matt bowed, smiling. Their rescuers seemed more relaxed now that they were here and the warp was closed. The under-canopy entrance appeared to be little-more than a hole in the ground; once inside, there were handholds in the stone. The tunnel under the ground was straight and smooth; electrical cords appeared to be trapped in blocks of stone along the ceiling. Matt had gone first, showing people where to grab, then he was the one leading the tour. They were walked back toward the temple, rooms opening up quickly. At first they were storage areas; next they were empty rooms. There were more rooms than people, even after the increase in numbers with the escapees. Lights came from lanterns that were plugged into the cords or by chemical glow sticks. “The power comes from generators, back in a cavern that way. We have to steal gas or propane for them.” David smiled. “Pick a room, make it home. We have blankets and basic bedding in all the rooms, but let me know if you need anything. Or want. We can’t guanatee anything, but I’ll do what I can to make this feel like home to you.”
  23. He awoke in darkness. At first, he didn’t remember where he was and sat up in a panic, thinking his guards had forgotten about him. He felt and ache in his back, the kind you get from sleeping in an uncomfortable position and his hands brushed an unfamiliar substance as he sat up; stone, not the metal of his bed frame. That is when it came to him. He wasn’t in his room back at the centre. Dog waited for the lights to come on for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes. He didn’t like being in the dark but the guards didn’t let him make any of his nightlight constructs. He wondered if the people here would mind. A soft golden light suffused the room as a tiny sphere materialized just over Dog’s hand. It gently floated up the about the center of the ceiling a just hovered there. Dog took a good look around the room that he’d fallen asleep in. It was a bare stone cube with a shelf like bed on the wall opposite from the rough wooden door that was firmly closed. The only furnishing in the room was a utility emergency light on a tripod in one corner of the room, its cord hugging the wall and leading out through a small hole in the wall close to the door. The young mutant sat there for a while, absorbing the room and waiting for someone to come in and yell at him for using his powers when he wasn’t supposed to. Another eternity passed and no one came. Maybe they didn’t know? Or maybe, maybe these people didn’t care? Dog took a breath and held it as he created a small construct; a humanoid figure about the size of an action figure. Again he waited and again no one came in to yell at him or hit him. At first he was afraid, and then he was annoyed. The strangers he’d followed had forgotten to turn on the lights this morning, and then forgotten to feed him! Did they forget he was even there? Dog was sure he was missing his cartoons and wished he had the TV from his room at the centre. Dog thought for a moment and wondered if he could just make a TV with his light. He concentrated really hard, remembering whet the TV from his room looked like and stretched out his hands. His tattoos flared to life and rapidly, a TV took shape on the floor in front of Dog. At first it was a simple box, perfect and angular, then it shifted some more. Its edges softened and became slightly curved, a screen appeared and buttons appeared on the left hand side. Below the buttons a small rectangle was outlined and then perforated with tiny holes, just like on the speaker of the original. Dog sat back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. He pressed the on button ready to sit back and enjoy the ‘Super Adventure Hour’ but nothing happened. Puzzled, he hit the button again but still nothing happened. A rapid punching of the button several times in a row didn’t produce the desired result either. At first Dog was annoyed, then agitated. He was missing his favorite cartoons! He smacked the TV construct in frustration and when nothing happened he smacked it again, and then again. As he hit the construct the pent up stress of his failed mission, his inadvertent escape and the punishment he knew he’d receive for both finally sank in and with a bellow of rage a massive golden hammer construct appeared in his hands which he brought down on the not-TV as hard as he could. The first blow shattered the boxy construct, shards of it quickly vanishing even as the fell to the floor, but the emotional floodgates had opened and Dog continued pounding the hammer on the floor and bellowing his anguish. Cracks began to form on the floor where Dog was venting his rage but slowly the energy to keep raging drained out of him and he ended up sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, sobbing. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, exhausted from his emotional outburst. He slept for several hours, sprawled out across the floor but when he awoke, he felt better; purged somehow. He looked around. The door was still closed, there still wasn’t any food and the only light was still his tiny construct, hovering at the ceiling. Dog sighed.
  24. System: Mutants & Masterminds, 3e (PL 10, 150 pp starting) Icarus Class - 0-60 pp, “spot on wall” powers Orpheus Class - 61-100 pp, As dangerous to themselves as others Prometheus Class - 101-200 pp, Moderately dangerous Gorgon Class - 201-400 pp, Very dangerous Titan Class - 401+ pp, Kill on sight Not allowed: Pretercognition, Jack of all Trades. Mutations Each mutant has tells that mark them as being parahuman. The marks of being a mutant do not have to be visible, but if they are not physical mutants, then the PC must have two mental/emotional/power complications. That brings the starting total to 3. However, energy bleeds and power signature bleeds are physical powers. Mutant and Human Abilities A human’s max Ability ranking is 5. A mutant is allowed to surpass this limitation, to the PL limits. However, any abilities that rise above 5 must be bought as the power, Enhanced Ability. This does mean that these traits can be copied and are vulnerable to nullification. Certain abilities can be purchased as innate, but they should be the primary ability for the character. Please ask me if you're unsure. Healing Rates by Rank on the Rank / Measure Table Each injured result (i.e. -1 toughness mod.) recovers after 1 hour of full rest (Time Rank 9) Staggered recoveres after 8 full hours of rest, i.e. a night's sleep (Time Rank 12) Incapacitated, i.e. unconscious, recovers after 8 minutes (Time Rank 6) Lasting injuries and conditions are Complications and will grant a Hero Point to the player. Regeneration works as described in the book with no changes FAQ Is magic allowed? No. Is super science/tech allowed? Yes. There are significant technologic advances that this world has over ours. Can my mutant be immune to Kytone/Tethorzine? Not completely. Those mutants who are immune to drugs and chemicals are still affected by Kytone or Tethorzine at half ranks. My using these drugs on them will result in the reward of an HP, just as it will any time I bend the rules to the PC’s disadvantage. Character sheets When approved, please put your character sheet in a spoiler box in your signature. This does not mean that character sheets are public. This means that I have them done that way so that I can easily access the notes I need to run the game. I trust that my players are mature enough to not go digging in people's sheets unless they ask permission first. If you have information about someone's sheet, do not disclose this to other players unless they specifically permit it. Please remember to be courteous and respect other's privacy.
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