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  1. Last week
  2. So I am looking for FTL (or faster than light). I remember reading it back in the day in one of the White Wolf books but recall if it was a Power or enhancement. So the question is does anyone remember FTL and which book it is in? Like I know the Companion has "Light Speed" and I could default to that but I seem to recall FTL in one of the main books ...or I could be just remembering wrong lol. tyvm in advance
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  4. imho... and I mean there are some real good answers above but if I was to kill a party, it would have to be like an old D&D trick! Death by bee (or ants I forget). The point is 1 insect does 1 damage and to someone that could soak that is no big deal. but then make it 10 or 100 or 1000 or 100,000 etc. pretty soon the party runs out of the juice to stop it. Ofc back in that game in that day and age a literal hand could come from the sky and just squish your character...over time I guess civility or guilt got the better part of valor lol. Anywho In the original Aeon/Trinity the Psions weren't more powerful...just more numerous. You could always throw some Psiads at them where PC Quantum defense powers doesn't stop Psiad attacks. You could borrow from White Wolf's other D10 games...toss some Formoi at them or Have Legendary weapons like Sword of Nul (maybe that sword specifically but an artifact is the meaning)...or have Telluric Metal forged weapons from the original Telluric Engine (or Galatea debris) that also ignores soak (like Kryptonite to Superman) You could introduce Other Telluric NPC like Mercer who wields both the sub-quantum and quantum at the same time...though that is basically a kin to Psiads only rougher..after that was the 40's and only the to be Nova lines were sterile....there could be a whole town full of combat Telluric warriors ...somewhere. TBH, imho, I dislike Party Killer NPC. If your at this point in a game, maybe say hey all...it has been a great run but I'd like to try something new with the game and either give them a glorious death or let them win the game. Who knows maybe as an option one of them wants to try their hand at the Story telling and you get to be a player =D -cheers-
  5. "1- What were the problems with playing high-powered novas - 2ndGen or otherwise - that you encountered? Were they due to the geopolitical situation of Earth in Aberrant regarding powerful novas, or something else? 2- What do you suggest that a Storyteller could do to fix those problems? 3- If not everyone was getting the type and level of role-playing action they desired, what could a Storyteller do - either before the gaming begins or during it - to fix that?" Not to be facetious, and forgive my nativity...but I think the answer for all three is Story. Obviously there are layers and working parts, etc. but when it comes down to it..yeah story. I kinda get this (I am willing to be proven wrong ofc) Storyteller versus players vibe from the questions...maybe. I've played Trinity then Aberrant since around circa 2000...maybe 2001 till today (2020) and have varying groups and story tellers. And in general no player has ever purchased Quantum Inferno or Universe Creation (for example). Though we very well could have with the xp and game hours logged and story tellers each saying, "sure if that is what you want", like comments on the topic. Why? Well at base I guess because of the story we were in...why blow up the planet? Why create a universe? Our story is in this verse, on this planet*. Only once did I get a chance to play as a Terat and even then with Chrysalis mechanics none of us took those type of powers..for the same reasoning. Our actions had consequences be it we good bad or in between and at the higher levels, even more so. Now I admit one such campaign did devolve into feuding gods kinda thing...but even then the Storyteller did a real good job with there story with the rock paper scissors aspect of combat, gave hard counter groups but never PC slayers and the intrigue of story was genuinely had us hooked and engaged as we interacted with it. I realize also my experiences are the same as everyone else, maybe I just got lucky through the years (and mainly why I keep coming back to play this game lol). I am currently the story teller and I have a Dr. Manhattan'esk character and even he knows now as we enter the Second Act (each Act is about 4 Episodes) of the first Season that if he reaches his full potential..he'd kinda cease to be a Playable Character..not because I say so, but that is just how it would play out somewhere in the 3rd - 5th Season ((if people are doing the math, I should note that I give an extra 10-13 XP per Episode as I am doing a Rising Stars/Highlander type (in that as certain Novas dye around the world other certain Nova's gain more power) hook)) I guess I defer to the others on other high level campaigns -cheers- *=I did play a campaign where we went into space...but that was as part of Daedalus Project with some Traveler game shenanigans...was fun but not exactly a high powered game per say.
  6. Not the same but an alternative would be... Take a Flaw such as Dependence (where your suit is your life support)((Stark's arc reactor in a sense)), or a made up one such as where you can't use your powers w/o the suit. This way, your normal powers can only manifest while wear the suit, as you perceive it is the suit that has the powers not you. Taking Attunement (background) is a must imho. But Weave (Ability), Eufiber Attuned (Merit) could be helpful. Weave can help you integrate other armors into your suit for that mech look and/or higher soak rates...really depends on your Storyteller ofc.
  7. I know this is thread-o-mancy, but that is one interesting facet about the internet ...it can act as a sort of time machine if a subject matter lives long enough. I don't have all the answers. Point in fact I was looking for some when I can across this thread. I have a current campaign in Aberrant and we are primarily using ye old White Wolf books or .PDF anyways lol. Divis Mal has always, for me as a player, been a background thing. As a storyteller I continued that tradition. On rare occasion he acted as more a MacGuffin, than something that is out there in the world somewhere. This Campaign I decided to put Divis Mal in the story as an actual NPC. In fact, last session he knocked on the PC's front door. So before I can get into the Nova, I think I should disclaimer or give some plot points of the story (I promise to keep it short). Troupes, I love them and I use the hell out of them. I find that in Aberrant, unlike other games, Troupes enhance the experience. Example a main plot point of the campaign is that when some Novas die, some other Novas get more powerful. If you were to think Highlander, gold star for you. If you thought Rising Stars, a gold star for you. I digress.. It starts with a Nova calling himself Mr. Ubiquitous who is one of those secreted Novas that still lives (kinda) on Earth during the Trinity Era. His big claim of mastery over the Quantum forces is that he can teleport or "Jump". As a side effect of Taint he has an aberration of the Teleport power always being on and in effect he is everywhere at once. He is not omniscient nor really omnipresence he can only manifest/jump to a single point with his consciousness and physical form. Anywho one day he decided that time was just another Dimension or parameter he should be able to travel and with great efforts he traveled back in time. By doing so unlocking the chicken or the egg timey whimey wibbly wobbly shenanigans that the campaign is wrapped with.<--all of which is to say I get to change the lore/cannon as I see fit this campaign. Now that we know how I justify the Divis Mal changes, we can get into the man and his motivations. Divis Mal developed his instar/node naturally and long before the Telluric Engine was created. The problem with being one of the first is that there isn't a lot of knowledge, science, or others to compare to/with. It is exactly why Divis had to spend a better part of a decade just to learn how to control his vocal chords to do "The Voice". He was lonely as a man. Alienated by those around him. Unable to show what he could do for fear they might hunt him down, exploit him, or worse. And so the seed germinated in those way back days of old. His first great attempt and perhaps most scaring of failures was he would have children. ((I know it is not a PC notion nowadays to suggest that Divis went Gay because he couldn't breed...that is not my point. Suffice to say Divis Mal was and always will be gay, but in that time he decided to sire in the most basic of ways to have more of his kind...fair?)) It would be a long time later, when Divis met and befriended Mercer and the opportunity that would arise for Divis to jump start Evolution with Dr. Hammersmith's project the Telluric Engine. Divis ofc course knew he could sabotage it to cause an explosion that would unlock human potential and create more of his kind. And it worked! Those closest were indeed transformed. However the pool was split..it didn't make just his kind but other kinds as well. The further the the distance from the explosion the less effective it was. Sure it charged and mutated folks, that humans perhaps in a generation or three may one day be Novas. A leap all the same but still too slow for Divis. We fast forward, circa the Galetea. Once again Divis has found a way to create more Novas and this time narrow the scope to be only Novas. Awaking the children of the Telluric Engine and awaken the genes naturally laying dormant. This worked in a profound way (enter the regular Aberrant campaign setting/history...of sorts). Divis probably would have stopped there in another timeline, but he wanted more. In fact, wanted only Novas to inherit the Earth. The monkeys had nearly destroyed it and in his mind don't deserve it. He would need a rally cry to unit the Novas... a Null Manifesto! There was the other problem, Novas could never truly claim to be the superior species if they could not continue the line through propagation. As was all Novas to date were sterile... In 2010 Divis publicly killed Caestus Pax! Divis didn't want to in earnest , truly holding out the big galoot would come around..or have no choice but to do so. However Divis had foresight and new steps had to be taken for his next phase of plan to come to fruition. The world stage would need to see his Authority/Superiority now. 2015 Divis was ready and prepared. It had taken all his life and certainly the most from these last 4+ years for this moment. Divis gave an arbitrary demand, that he knew would never be met, to the world... to close down all Nova prisons and holding facilities. They had been given one week. Of course the monkeys did as Divis predicted and so he flew over Iowa and in both horrifying and spectacular fashion became as a mini sun and nuked the bulk of the corn belt. The effect/repercussions, despite the best clean up/healing efforts, would still be felt to this day (2022). Divis never really cared about the facilities. Sure they were a pain but... his real goal was to re-create the Galatea effect with some further refinements but this time w/o the artificial tools. It would be his energies, if successful, that unlocked the future. And it did work, by 2022 the first Homo Novus was born by two Homo sapiens novus. ((I think in a way, as a story teller, Divis was rather proud of that achievement...the future was his kind but also he corrected a perceived past failure)). It took Mercer till 2021 to realize Divis had released similar radioactive isotopes as the Galatea into the atmosphere with the Corn belt incident. And being a Time traveler himself that was Quantum locked (my way of saying Mercer could know how things were and are when temporal changes are made) began to redouble his efforts at Project Pandora. In 2022 Divis Gave Australia a week to evacuate, and all Novas were welcomed. Navies were sent but they stayed there distance awaiting orders...eventually they were told to aid in the evacuation. Peaceful Novas also gave aid to the baselines. And just like that Australia (to include Tasmania) became New Tera w/o a single death. This was what Divis foresaw and why (or justified) he had to kill Caestus Pax and in part make that arbitrary demand. So none would question his Authority/Superiority for this moment. I'd go on but it is an active session... that/these are my Divis Mal's personality and motivations in a nut shell. He was alone and went to extremes to not be so. As to the knock on the door by him at the PC's house... One of my player's character is basically based on Dr. Manhattan, complete with the eruption occur as he was destroyed allowing him to reform himself. Divis Mal ofc has heard of this occurrence (well a nova came back from the dead/disintegration) and came to meet him directly. What Divis saw a Nova filled with Taint (blue skin, glowing eyes, glow around body, perfect body, etc.) and in need of help only a Terat could give. The details of how he came back would wait...but Divis will have his knowledge. So for the PC's Divis offers so much but they are slowly learning Divis Mal is a bit of Faustian bag. How far down the rabbit hole is up to them. For now, almost on the daily Divis is someone they can interact with. Divis isn't even the BBEG of my campaign...the character hails from the future who through quantum entanglement kinda (Quantum Leap)s into his past self (Butterfly Effect) to change the future/his present as well. thanks for reading and cheers
  8. Branch-9 Underground Facility. Saturday Morning, 7th September 2019 He could feel himself becoming more. Mere months ago, before the world expanded, before powers and monsters and life and death and girlfriends, he had been content with his path in life. To coast through high school, avoiding notice, then to drop off the radar even further and seek a fortune in the illicit substances trade. Life had seemed transitory, the search for meaning futile against the meaninglessness of it all. His plans, such as they were, had simply been focused on survival and a modicum of entertainment: his endless thirst for knowledge the attempt to stave off boredom whilst earning enough to live in relative comfort in a world where he’d never felt he belonged. And now? He reflected as lounged quietly on a chair outside the lab area of the Project, idly watching the uniformed woman who had unobtrusively taken up a post a few yards away after showing him here. The soldier shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that inscrutable feline gaze, several times looking as though she was going to say something, but changing her mind each time she glanced at the expressionless scarred face. Possibilities, exciting ones. Potentially endless. A world where there was something new to discover, something profound. An existence where there was more than merely survival and staving off boredom to consider. The strange scientific frontiers that Shine opened up, the prospect of other realities and dimensions to explore, the truth of his own existence... all of these things to understand and study. And more besides, he mused as he pictured the others one by one, his mind’s eye resting at last on laughing blue eyes and a freckled nose crinkling in a smile. Connection – a simple thing he’d always dismissed as secondary, suddenly a matter of importance. His consciousness was expanding – whether as a result of his Shine, of his new outlook on life, or perhaps some strange synergy of the two. The increased awareness of other life, from the softly phosphorescent plankton of plants and lower order creatures, to the flickering firefly lights of other mammals, to the candles of human beings and then the brilliant torches of other Radiants – all of this served to further connect him to life, making it harder to exist purely in abstraction. As a substitute for a ‘normal’ human neurology it was at best incomplete, but it did help him in feeling the kinship between himself and other living creatures rather than depending on an abstract knowledge of that fact. The female soldier glanced at him again, only to find that his eyes, lacking anything more interesting to occupy their outward gaze, were still resting on her. She looked ahead again, lips tightening as she repressed the urge to physically shiver. Jase watched her, head tilting curiously, studying that essential living kinship, but also aware of the gulf between him and her, between him and Cade, between him and the Jauntsens... even between him and Sean, or Autumn. The lion is no less a lion simply because it chooses not to eat the goat. The paraphrase of his conversation with Courtney came back to him. Clever words, glibly spoken – or were they? How did his allies see him? Autumn, at least, liked and accepted him. Cassie seemed to take his otherness in stride. He felt himself becoming more distant from Sean, though, and the Jauntsens saw him as a reckless, sadistic creature – but was that projection of their own flaws onto him? Devin was certainly reckless, and Marissa delighted in tormenting others. That was a very human thing, he’d realised. They tended to threaten with what scared them, equate others motives with their own. They even anthropomorphised animals, assigning them human personality traits. They insisted on the existence of such concepts as fairness, as justice, mercy or honour – when no such elements existed in nature. And yet such irrationality gave them common ground with each other. It seemed to work for them, by and large, as a species. And what of his species? He remembered the conversation with his mother last night... “You are of the Draig.” She’d told him as they sat together in the room above his garden. She’d come to the house for dinner, at Gar’s invitation, and while Jase’s father was preparing the food he’d insisted mother and son spend some time together. Lacking any other plan, Jase had shown her the garden, which she had complimented him on, and then asked her about his-or rather their people. Reluctantly she had acquiesced, and now as he sat and listened, she wandered about the attic room, studying the various tools and bric-a-brac as she spoke. “I have heard that before.” Jase replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What does that mean?” “There are twelve main clans of Teulu.” His mother picked up the blunt practice knife, testing the edge and arching her brow at him reprovingly. “You should practice with a real edge. The feel is different.” “I got tired of patching the bag.” He indicated the criss-crossings of duct tape on the heavy body bag hanging from a rafter. “Dull blades will suffice until I have the control necessary not to do damage I don’t intend to. Twelve clans?” he prompted, getting them back on track. She nodded. “The Draig are the oldest, and first. So it’s said.” The blonde woman set the blunt knife down and wandered over to the window, seating herself on the sill and regarding him. “Teulu don’t lie, so if even the other clans acknowledge that fact, then it probably is a fact. So the Draig are the clan from which all other clan sprang, probably due to young, aggressive Prides splitting off and forming their own clans, as is customary.” “Why is that customary?” he asked, focusing on her words. “Why don’t young, aggressive Prides just take over the parent clan?” “A few reasons.” Kaitlin smiled slightly. “Firstly, and mostly, it’s just not practical. The leadership of a clan can’t just be challenged – the upstart would need majority support of his bid from the rest of the clan, comprising of many Prides. To do that, he’d need to be at least the head of a Pride, with a proven track record of cunning and success as well as prosperity for his family. No young Pride of hotheads is going to have the clout to reassure the rest of the clan that they are a better pick for leader. There have been instances where assassination has been tried, but even when successful, the assassins are promptly destroyed. We may kill each other, but there are rules and traditions to govern it. Murder is not sanctioned within the clan.” “I see.” Jason nodded, filing that away. “Also, we live awhile, barring accidents. A teulu male can be fighting fit well into his eighth decade, and is unlikely to go soft or become slow. Transitions of power within a clan are usually peaceful – by our standards - unless a leader proves incompetent. The leader ages until they feel their strength or faculties slipping, then a contest is held to appoint a successor from the best prospects. A ritual combat is fought, but not to the death, only to display the fitness of the would-be leader. Then the previous leader passes the mantle, and becomes an advisor.” She shrugged, glancing out of the window at the farmhouse. “That way the clan wins a new, strong leader and keeps the experience and cunning of the old one.” “So pragmatically, the best course for young teulu who want rulership is to split off and form their own clans.” Jase considered, nodding. “Often a handful of Prides will leave together to do that, if it happens.” She agreed. “It’s very rare for just one Pride to try and declare itself a clan. Especially a young Pride which may only have four or five members. They’re allowed to do it, it’s just considered foolish.” Her lips quirked. “Which is probably the most damning criticism amongst teulu.” “So what of our clan?” “They’re the oldest, as I said, and probably the largest. My father – your grandfather – is the leader. Or was, at least when I left. Barring war or accident, he likely still is.” Kaitlin’s lips tightened. “They’re terrible, even by teulu standards, Jase.” “How so?” She sighed. “There’s a rite of passage, a signal that you’re ready to become an adult. It’s common to all clans: hunt down a dangerous creature with minimal weaponry or armor, kill it and eat its heart. Usually the elders of your Pride will assign the prey, based on availability. But it has to be something capable of killing you. All teulu need to go through it – it’s a test of resourcefulness and cunning.” She looked out the window again, her eyes distant and sad. “Amongst the Draig, the chosen prey has to be sentient.” Jase was quiet, mulling this over as she turned back to him. “So... another teulu?” “Preferably a member of another species, captured during a raid. But in a pinch, yes.” She shook her head. “Given weapons, healed of any injury so they’re in good health. Non-teulu are told that if they beat the inexperienced youth they will be allowed to go free – which is true,” she went on, frowning slightly. “It just doesn’t usually work out that way. Teulu are told that if they win, they get to go back to their clan or join the Draig.” “But sometimes, youth of different Prides will be matched against one another. There’s not always a handy prisoner, you see.” She went on, her voice turning bitter. “That was what awaited me on my trial. And worse, my opponent was a friend from another Pride. I couldn’t do it. The mere thought of battling my friend to the death was sickening to me. But the worst part was, I saw it didn’t sicken her at all – she was totally prepared to face me, to kill me and to eat my heart.” “That’s why you ran.” Jason stated rather than asked, his eyes on his mother’s face. She nodded. “I had always been different.” She came over to the table and sat across from him. “Too gentle, disliking the casual callousness of daily life, capable of feeling fear. My... disability was common knowledge, though I wasn’t treated differently because of it. There was a general attitude that I would learn to cope and find my place in the clan, or I wouldn’t. Either way it was nobody’s problem but mine.” She smiled wryly. “Strangely from a human perspective, teulu are tolerant of oddity. There was some fascination from those who would bombard me with questions about what it felt like to be afraid. But I wasn’t persecuted for my strangeness.” Jason nodded, remembering his conversation with Lona about what it felt like for her to be afraid. He had never disdained that human quality even when he’d believed himself to be some form of... damaged human. Rather he found himself quietly interested in fear as a human might be interested in the concept of unaided flight, and how those around him dealt with it formed a lot of his regard of them. Bravado, quiet stoicism, seeking to confront and understand their own fears, deflection and denial... All categories with their own subcategories of nuance unique to the individual. He dwelt on that as he studied the nervous soldier for a moment longer, then to her undoubted relief switched his gaze to the door opposite as it hissed open. The elegant, white-coated blonde framed in the doorway met his stare with an appraising look of her own, then beckoned to him. “Mr Bannon. Please.” She stepped aside, motioning for him to enter the lab areas, and handed him a card as he stepped past. Jase glanced down, turning it over in his hands – it was glossy white plastic, blank except for a single small photograph of his face on one surface. “Please don’t lose that.” Dr Julia Carter murmured as she led him through the entryway. “Or if you do, let Major Taggart know immediately. It will get you access to the Project common areas and the labs, but that is all. It will not give you military clearance or access to Branch 9 specific areas.” She studied him for a moment as he tucked the plastic slip away and nodded affirmatively, then nodded herself. “Follow me, then. We’ll get you started.” Pale green eyes taking everything in, and giving little away in turn, the slender youth followed the doctor into the Project laboratories. Branch-9 Underground Facility: Lab Two, now. He was vaguely aware of Marissa and Lieutenant Osman talking in low tones as he scribbled on the electronic stylus pad Carter had furnished him with, just as he was aware of the sidelong glances from some of the other scientists and the open scrutiny of Carter, Taggart and Annette. It all went into his near-constant assessment of his surroundings as he stood slightly apart, a tall spare figure, his gaze intent on his work. Osman was decently smart. He ought to be - biology and genetics together was a demanding field. But he seemed very... young, which Jase acknowledged in his wry way as a strange thing for a sixteen year old to say about a grown man. Nevertheless, the lieutenant had listened well as Jase had, at Taggart's request, brought him up to speed. His questions had been to the point, and he seemed happy to accept what he was told without trying to force it to fit his own preconceptions of the universe. Maybe that was a function of his youth, Jase mused absently as he filled in another line of calculations. Greater flexibility, willingness to accept there were things he didn't understand. Or maybe it was just Osman. He mentally shrugged - time would tell. "Well?" Taggart had drifted closer, Annette in tow, as the group that had been studying Marissa moved, with the slender beauty, to another part of the cavernous lab room to set up the next test. The scarred young man turned his cold eyes on him, and the Major gestured at the pad. "Anything useful?" "Potentially. Her resistance to external damage can likely be worked out mathematically without resorting to an assortment of calibers of firearms." The teulu male's lips parted in the faintest of sighs as he turned more fully towards the two Project leaders. "But now, I think I need to see the full genetic workup your people have done on us." Annette could feel Taggart start to bristle, knew he was about to argue with an almost prescient sense, and quickly stepped forward smiling slightly. "Of course. As discussed." she interjected smoothly - but firmly - before the Major could open his mouth. "The gene lab is sealed from most staff, even most of the science staff. I will work on getting you permanent access - but for now would you be satisfied with the report they have given me?" She watched that pale, predatory stare as he considered, then nodded. "That would be a good place to start, yes." Jase affirmed. Smiling, Annette keyed a sequence into her own pad, unlocking and transferring the files to him. Jase opened it immediately, his eyes scanning down the text and graphs as he began to turn away. Then he paused, looking back at the two of them as though recalling something. "Thank you." he said simply, before once more turning away and sitting at a lab bench, intent on his reading. "See?" Annette patted Taggart's arm as the two of them headed over to where Marissa was surrounded by white coats like some scientific curiousity crossed with the belle of the ball. "Progress. A step at a time." Taggart grunted. "Said 'thank you'." The Major shot Annette a sideways look. "Great. He's polite." "Isn't it refreshing? He doesn't leer at me, or sass you." Annette's dark eyes sparkled with humor. "A pleasant change." "Until he decides, one day, that he doesn't need us." Taggart muttered dourly. "He already doesn't. None of them do, really. We need them, John, and that's the reality of it. Our support is helpful, sure, but these young people have already taken down a-" "-a dimensional horror from a realm where anuses were born." Taggart finished, his tone dry. "Yeah, I know." He sighed. "I'm stalling Washington as much as possible, but my guy on the Oversight committee is saying that, sooner or later, they're coming to inspect us." "I'm confident we'll show them that our work here is valuable for the greater good of humanity. And they will see the sense in letting us - and these kids - be." Annette stated firmly. Taggart, who had a soldiers impression of politicians, merely grunted as they rejoined the larger test group.
  9. Heya. How are you doing? The site doesn't get much activity these days and there are no active games. Maybe someone will start something new, but if not the site is here as an archive. Take care.
  10. I have not been here for a while. I was wondering how everyone is doing, what they been doing if (If you want to.) and what is going on with the site currently? The site seems silent or appears to be.
  11. Saturday Evening, The Barn Cade had done his best to wrestle with the knowledge he'd gained at the wake. Even after his Date with Marissa, and everything that happened, he still wasn't sure how he'd even bring the subject up now. So he turned to the one person he trusted implicitly in all of Shelly. He dialed up Sean on Saturday, "Hey Sean, I need to talk to you. You mind if I come by? I'll bring pizza." It was a bit out of the blue, so he thought to at least offer to bring food, Lord knew they all ate a fair bit these days. "Not at all," Sean replied. Phone caught in the crook of his neck, his brows rose in surprise when he looked at the time. He'd lost track and hadn't even started to consider what he was going to do about supper. It was already later than he usually ate. Cade could hear the sound of the wheels of Sean's computer chair rolling over the hardwood, as he went from one computer to another, this one showing rough designs for potential renovations to The Barn. "I'm feeling like... hm, pineapple tonight. I got drinks covered." He gave a mug on his desk a shake and frowned, finding it empty. "And I'll put some coffee on, if you want." "Alright, I'll be by in about twenty minutes with the Pizza." He couldn't believe Sean ate pineapple on his pizza, but whatever, they all had their strange tastes in things. He called in his order for pizza, one meatlovers and one pepperoni, and a Hawaiian with Bacon for Sean, then let his mom know he was heading to Sean's. After picking up the Pizza, he headed over to the Cassidy's, and parked next to the Barn, where he figured Sean was. He knocked on the door. "Yo Sean, it's Cade, ya in here, or the house?" "I'm here. Just a sec," came Sean's high, sweet voice from within The Barn. A moment later, Cade could hear the padding of feet on hardwood, then the unbolting of a deadbolt, the unlocking of a lock, and the unlatching of a heavy latch. Normally, Sean kept the place unlocked until he went to bed, just yelling for whoever knocked to come on in. But with everything that had happened lately, Cade couldn't blame his friend. The heavy door slid open and Sean looked up at his much bigger friend, nodding him inside. "Heya Cade, bringer of pizza goodness, c'mon in." Leading him inside, it was clear to Cade that Sean hadn't had much intention of going out for the rest of the evening. He was wearing shorts, big, fluffy Red Panda slippers, and an old, faded, green t-shirt, a distorted Triforce across his chest. A crackling fire in the cast-iron wood stove lent a cozy warmth to the central part of The Barn. Sean's grey cat Turing seemed to make a point of ignoring the buxom boy, sauntering past him to wind sinuously between Cade's legs with a barely audible purr. Sean sighed with a wry frown. "I think Turing is still pissed at me... for reasons. Fair reasons, I suppose, but I needed a test subject." He lead Cade to the big gaming table, its surface cleared off, save for placemats, plates, a bread knife, two glass mugs, and a ceramic one listing off game developer hourly rates. The scent of brewing coffee mingled with that of the wood fire. Sean bent over and dug through the mini-fridge for drinks, then plopped down into his usual seat at the table when he DMed. He took a sip tangerine lemonade, then added two slices of pizza to his plate. He glanced over at the shelf full of gaming books and painted miniatures. Cade would bring up what he wanted to talk about when he felt like it, there was no rush. "We've a lost a lot of players lately, and y'know, there's all this stuff going on, but are you still interested in the D&D campaign?" "Hell, yes!" came Cade's reply with a surprising enthusiasm. He chuckled, grabbed some of his pizza, and a regular lemonade from Sean's fridge. "Seriously, I've missed gaming. I don't know about the others, but I'm definitely in." Cade reached down to pet Turing who was still rubbing against his leg. He knew gaming was important to Sean, and Marissa was right, they needed to take the time to do the things they enjoyed together while they could. "You gonna invite everyone?" He already knew Marissa's answer should she be invited, but whether or not Sean meant to bury the hatchet with Devin and invite him was something he wasn't sure about. "I'm glad you're taking some precautions man, even if it seems so odd." He sighed. "I mean before, people left their homes unlocked, we all damn near knew everyone else. This town never really seemed that big or strange." "Yeah, well... " Sean gave an awkward shrug, then took another bite of pizza, chewing contemplatively. True, he hadn't really worried about someone breaking into the house or Barn before, but with his unusual condition in a small town in a more rural state, he had to be aware of the possibility of being accosted or assaulted. "After Charlie and what happened to Jase and Lilly, better safe than sorry, I guess. The town is getting bigger. And stranger." Sean finished his first slice of pizza as the much larger teen was demolishing his second. He picked up a chunk of pineapple that had been dislodged in the box and popped it in his mouth. "As for the campaign, yeah, I'll invite everyone." His lips twisted wryly. Running a campaign wasn't just about managing character interactions, but managing player interactions too. How the hell would he manage the Jauntsens? Not that he expected they take him up on the invite. "Not sure if I'll get any bites, though. Kat maybe. She came along to watch when I ran Sophia's game Thursday." He wasn't sure how interested Kat really was in gaming - she seemed more to be humoring him - but he smiled to himself at her reaction to Devin's sketches of him in potential Homecoming wear. He seemed unware of the faint colour rising to his cheeks. He hid his face in his glass, nearly finishing his lemonade. "So, uh, what about you and Marissa? That, er, still going on?" Sean asked as he picked up his second slice of pizza. "Yes, and some of what I've got to talk to you about is somewhat related on that front," he said before finishing another slice. "It'll be over after homecoming, one way or another, so we're both enjoying it until then. What about you? Any prospects? I know you seemed to get on well with Kat." It was true, that much of Cade's time had been taken up by his "relationship" with Marissa, and he hadn't really done as much with the rest of the Fellowship. Though to be fair, they'd not really gotten together with everyone since that time at the Bannon's farm, and the fight with the Tree. "Or maybe you found someone else. " "There aren't exactly many girls clamoring for a guy built like this," Sean said, standing up and gesturing at his amply endowed, hourglass figure with both hands. It wasn't that he didn't get attention. He did. it just was rarely the sort he wanted, from who he wanted, and depended drastically if they knew about his intersexed status or not. He had to shutter his Twitch channel and scrub all evidence of it from the internet two years ago less than a month after starting it. It was off to YouTube and strictly behind the camera after that. Just weeks ago, Cade would have heard bitterness in Sean's tone, could see him hunching his shoulders, and he probably would have been wearing an oversized hoodie, even inside the warm Barn. He definitely wouldn't have pointed at his attributes. But now, he only sounded matter of fact, maybe a little wry, and he kept his shoulders straight. "But Kat seems to like it." Sean tried to sound nonchalant, but his fair cheeks grew pink as he thought about making out with the slight French Girl after the funeral. It was his first time really making out with a girl. He picked up his plate and glass and turned away, stepping over to dump them on the tray he used to carry dishes to the house or the deep sink in the small bathroom to clean them. He mumbled over his shoulder. "She seems to like Courtney a bit too much." There was the bitterness Cade expected. "But we're going to Homecoming. We'll see how things go from there." Sean filled a mug with coffee from a pot he had brewing and returned to the table. The mug looked ludicrously large in his slender hands as he held it up, inhaling the delicious aroma. "I don't think you came over to talk about our dating lives, feigned or not actually started yet, dude." He took a sip of the sweet nectar of life and let out a soft sigh. "So, what's up?" Cade smiled as Sean talked about Kat, and chuckled. He was happy he'd found someone to go with. Then Sean got to business first. "Yeah, no, not exactly, though what I've got to say will definitely affect mine I think. You remember when I asked you to help with checking on my Dad? Well nothing really got resolved that night, and confronting him didn't work out to well either." He sighed, and laid out the rest. "At Charlie's home, I found out the truth. I was upstairs, looking for wherever Haruka had gone because mom asked me to find her, and I overheard Dad talking with someone. It was Marissa and Devin's mom, Misti, Sean. She's the one he's been having an affair with. " It was very obvious how angry Cade was with his father regarding this, and he sighed. "And no, I haven't told Marissa and Devin yet. I want to, I plan to, but I just couldn't. I know I need to tell them." Sean sucked in a whistling breath through his teeth. "Weeeeeeeellll... shit." Sure, stuff happened. People cheated, got divorced. Charlie's parents had gotten divorced, Avalon's and Clara's parents had... whatever the hell they had going on. There were a few other students at Shelly who had divorced or separated parents, and there had been more than one infidelity brought into the open. Sean was sure it just wasn't as prevalent in a small town like Shelly than in more cosmopolitan cities. It had never entered his thoughts that his own parents might cheat on each other or get divorced. He had no frame of reference of how it was hitting Cade, other than the obvious anger. On one hand, it so totally sucked. On the other hand, if the Sherriff was cheating, at least it was with, like, the hottest mom in Shelly. It could have been so much worse, like, someone still going to Shelly High. Ugh. He had had a vague suspicion when Cade had asked him to track his dad's phone but hadn't taken it any further. On the other other hand, that mom was Marissa's mom. "You do have to tell them, Cade, and the longer you wait, the worse it's gonna be," Sean said. He pulled up a knee to his chest, heel on the edge of his chair, and wrapped an arm around his shin. "I mean, it's going to be bad no matter what." One half of his mouth curled up in a fatalistic grin. "Can ya shoot me a text when you are though, so I can get out of ground zero." His grin faded and he spun his gaming chair with his dangling leg and gestured with his mug of coffee. "But if you need a place to get away from the fallout for a while, you can crash here, dude." Devin had given him the money Marissa had... acquired to spruce up the Barn for the psionic gang. He'd already been sketching some plans - definitely needed a full kitchen and a full bathroom - but putting in either bunks or turning the other loft space into sleeping space instead of storage space or something was added to his mental list and moving up it. "Maybe so. If anything I can help you with anything you need done around here." Cade sighed, and sipped his drink before continuing. "I know I have to tell them, that I probably should have told them already. It's just been hard to do. Hell it's hard to accept. Sure Misti is hot, I definitely see where Marissa got it from, but come on. My Dad's the sheriff. He's supposed to be better than this y'know?" He shrugged and shook his head. "And he knows about Marissa and I too, and that makes this fucked up even more." He looked to Sean. "It STILL gets worse." "Thanks to Devin everyone knows we weren't really going out. Fine, we had our reasons, I'll tell you if you want. Thing is, after the memorial, having heard what I did, I went over to get Marissa. One thing led to another, I just wanted to get away from Shelly for awhile, and we did, together, after having sex. We had what certainly didn't start as a date, but became one, and We actually are officially dating now, at least until after Homecoming." "That is fucked up!" Sean agreed, his melodious soprano voice blunt. But Cade saw a complicated mix of emotions cross his friend's pretty face. Marissa might be some flavour of crazy, but she was also crazy hot. Sean couldn't help but feel a spike of envy that Cade had gotten down with her. He'd been hit on by guys, two had even known about his condition. Some were old enough to be his father. Gross, even if he had been attracted to guys, which he wasn't. It would probably be easier if he was. Until Kat, any girl who'd known he was intersexed hadn't shown the lest romantic interest in him. A couple of the ones who hadn't considered him a total freak seemed to think he might be a suitable replacement for a gay best friend. Ugh. The one time he'd taken a chance, Sophia had turned him down. Hard. After that, he figured he just wait and once he made it big in Tech or Gaming and moved out of Montana, he could find someone who didn't mind his peculiarities. Maybe in California. Though now, he might not have that time... It made him wonder if he really liked Kat for who she was, or if he was grasping at the only opportunity he could see. "Dude, whatever you and Marissa have, it has nothing to do with your Dad. And whatever your Dad has with Misti Jauntsen, it might affect you, but it doesn't have anything to do with you." He stopped his spinning chair with a foot and leaned towards Cade, large jade-and-turquoise eyes intent. "Don't let his mess derail whatever you might have." Then he looked awkward and uncertain. "And if you need, like, I dunno, moral support - or maybe a witness - when you tell Devin and Marissa, you can count on me." It was an honest offer, Cade to tell Sean meant it, just as he could tell Sean would prefer to be anywhere but there at ground zero. "I appreciate it Sean, I really do, but I think it'll be best that I tell them alone. I mean it's probably gonna be obvious that I told you before anyone else. At least if it's just us, I'll be the only one teleported to Guam or somewhere else fairly remote." He chuckled softly. "They can be mad at me for telling you, but when it comes to it, I trust you Sean. You were already involved from before. You're always here for me, and have been. I feel the same way with you. If you ever need anything, if I can help, just ask. Besides, I think they're both better people than to take it out on me. I definitely wouldn't want to be my dad or their mom though. " He took a sip from his drink, then stared at it, as if it might hold the answers he was seeking. "I know, and I feel they definitely have a right to know this too. I just know the fallout from this is going to be major, and have some very lasting effects." "If Devin 'ports anyone, it'll be your dad and his mom, and it won't be anywhere you can find on a map," Sean said wryly. He took a sip of coffee, then suddenly straightened in his chair, head slightly tilted. A mere instant later, Cade heard Sean's phone chime with a notification. Sean gave his friend an apologetic smile as he plunked his mug on the table. "Just give me a sec, I gotta respond to this." "What's that?" the big boy scout asked curiously as the overendowed redhead planted a foot against a leg of the heavy gaming table and shoved, his chair skittering across the hardwood to one of his computer setups. "Question 'bout ReGenesis not loading right. He at least sent the error code, so it's a simple fix, problem with a config on his end," Sean answered absently. He wasn't even looking at his monitor, let alone using the keyboard. He uncanny eyes looked distant, and almost seemed to glow. "How's the game going?" "Pretty good!" Sean practically chirped. It hadn't exploded virally - yet - but pretty much every comment was positive, and it had already almost sold more copies than his first game, Annwn, and that had been over two years ago. "I mean, super psionic coding powers and virtual semi-autonomous agents for staff might make me better and more efficient than the entire team of a AAA developer, but I can't compete with their advertising budget nor have the accrued reputation to draw attention. But I ain't complaining." He pursed his lips, considering telling Cade about his meeting with Brad Stanton from EA, though he wasn't entirely sure what he had decided on that front yet. Well, he did, but still, the offer hadn't been what he had expected. He was going to stay mum, but Cade had told him about something way more private. "I had a dinner meeting with a guy from EA yesterday. At the country club. Brad Stanton. EA, or Brad at least, is interesting in buying Regenesis. What he really wants in the Spectrum Engine that runs it. The offer was... big." "And?" "And nothing! It's mine!" Sean said fiercely. "I'm not gonna sell, so they can make shit, piecemeal games that make bank that go mostly into the executives pockets." He sighed and scooted back to the table, cradling his chin in his hand, elbows on the table "Still, I can't say I wasn't tempted. There were a lot of zeroes." He shook his head, shaking the thought away. "Anyway, you didn't come over for me. When you talk to the Jauntsens, let them know that I know, instead of letting them find out later. It's only fair. And about the fallout... it might be bad, but c'mon! We fought personified evil in a hell dimension! Even Marissa at her worse is barely more terrifying than that!" Cade smiled, not just because it felt good to see Sean actually happy about something, but he knew he was excited. "Trust me man, seeing you actually happy is good too. I'm glad you're not selling, they'd probably screw things up. I mean it is EA we're talking about. They'd load it down with all sorts of unneeded microtransactions." He chuckled. "Yeah, fighting interdimensional horrors in a realm of pure evil, versus an angry pair of Jauntsen twins. At least with the horrors, I know there's no good in them and am free to shoot them at my leisure." He shook his head. "Can't do that with Marissa and Devin, and really I wouldn't want to. I know they've been shitty to us since they came to Shelly, you in particular. Marissa can still be a bitch, and Devin an asshole, but they have gotten better. They still think we're all a bunch of fuckups, but they haven't just left." He smiled. "I'm envious of all of you." It was one of the first times he'd really said that out loud. "I mean you can all do these cool things, you've got real powers. I don't. I can get on a bit with wild animals, enough to not get eaten by the big cat, or to not get bit by a badger, but that's kinda it. We know I'm different from everyone else, I'd just kinda hoped to have a cool power too." "I'm not gonna lie, the psionic powers are pretty damn awesome," Sean agreed with a smirk. Four beads of concentrated light coalesced in the air, blue, yellow, red, and green. They zipped about the Barn for a moment, leaving streaks like something from Tron, before Sean let them fade away. "But they aren't everything, dude. What happened to Jase? I'd probably be toast before I knew what happened." Maybe. It depended. If he'd known to look for it, he might have seen the bioelectric impulses going from brain, through arm, to the fingers about the gun. Whether if he could have done something about it in time was another matter. He gestured across the table at the strapping small town boy. "But look at you! You're a fucking Spartan. You could have disarmed the guy and fed him his damned gun, most likely. You're built for function, and you function better than the best Swiss watch. Me?" Sean pointed at himself with his thumbs and his most obvious physical attributes stretching his shirt, mouth twisting with self-deprecating wryness. "At best, someone could say I'm built for decoration. With mismatched parts." Mismatched, flawed parts that are leading to a total system collapse. Sean didn't sound particularly bitter to Cade. He sounded oddly monotone. "Starting a Twitch Channel was a big mistake." Before, Sean used to imagine what it would be like to be taller, tall as his sisters, as tall as Jase or Cade. What it would be like to be buff, ripped. What it would be like to look masculine. Like a stereotypical boy. Like a man. Now, he rarely did, and when he did, it felt wrong to him, felt like a caricature. He couldn't see it as being the 'right' version of what he should be. It just looked like a stranger with no connection to him. Who he saw in the mirror was the real him, whatever else he thought about it. "But who knows, Cade. Maybe your super special power hasn't manifested yet? People, er, develop at different rates. Or maybe it has, and its just super subtle and we haven't even noticed." "I know I'm different than the rest of y'all, but I can't help but wish I could contribute more to things at times. I mean I have to be armed to be able to do anything. What happens if we ever run up against something that our weapons don't hurt?" His look darkened. 'When I shot Cody, it was with an AP round. That should have killed him, probably would have killed any of us considering where I hit him. But it didn't, and more he just started healing it like it was nothing. That reinforced my own lack of power. I mean I didn't lose my shit in that other world, I don't think any of us really did, but still." He sighed, and rolled his shoulders. "As far as how you look Sean, I mean yeah it's different, but you're still you. That hasn't changed. You're still a nerd, and the smartest guy I know, and probably one of the most kind. Getting on Twitch, yeah probably a mistake though, I agree. I can only imagine the sorts of things you see come through your chatlogs." Sean cocked a doubtful brow. Not lose my shit? He wasn't sure about everyone else, but at the end, with the wave upon wave of monsters assaulting them in that hellscape, he had most definitely lost his shit. He still wasn't sure if he had actually pissed himself that night, not with all the muck, gunk, and blood he'd - they'd all been - slathered in. "Riiiiight. Shit. Totally not lost." He popped himself out of his chair, turned away from Cade unconsciously before stretching his back, then walked over to refill his mug of coffee. Stirring in his usually amount of cream and sugar, he spoke over his shoulder. "Three months. I lasted three months on Twitch," he admitted, not without some rancor. He hadn't been in a good place for a while afterwards. "And it all went down because of an accident." He reclaimed his seat and stared into his coffee. "I had kept the camera tight on my face. Streaming some playthroughs, talking about game design and stuff. It was going okay." Once, he had thought about making it big as a Videogame Streamer. Not anymore. He gave a negligent shrug, but Cade could tell some regret remained. "One time. I wasn't paying attention. I got up to grab a drink. It was late and I was only wearing a thin shirt. A shirt that had grown tight over the last few weeks.... " He looked up and ran his fingers through his hair, huffing a grunt. "Total shit show. Claims I did it on purpose. Fake gamer girl stuff, all that. Biggest mistake was trying to explain." He glanced away and frowned, eyes tightening with remembered hurt. "Fake girl gamer. Not gonna lie, that fucking hurt." He waved a hand and shook his head, chasing it away, then turned back to Cade. He took a calming sip of coffee, let the heat work its way down his throat. "I scrubbed everything. I prefer YouTube anyway to live streaming. Can edit and arrange more structured videos. Gives me more time to code. And now, all the weird. Anyway, how's football?" "Sean you're the least fake gamer I know. Your enthusiasm and dedication got me, a closeted weeb Jock, to pretty openly play and admit I play D&D. You're a real gamer, I got your back on that. Later on, when you're a famous game designer and programmer, all those idiots will only wish they'd not made fun of you." "As to football, There's a lot of resentment. I think Chet expected to be handed the role of quarterback, and I stopped that. Nevermind that I'm more accurate than he'll ever hope to be, I'm stronger than him, faster than him, and smarter than him. Aside from Lilly and your sister, I've been one of the biggest athletic stars at school, but I 'Kept to my Lane' so to say, in track and baseball. I let the coach talk me into to joining the football team, since Lilly's gone. I like to think I'm good at it, and if I choose to keep playing, I'll get even better, but there's no connection to it for me yet, not like baseball, or track. I want the team to win, but unless things really change, I can't see myself playing past this year." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I set school records not that long ago in three different track events, if they'd actually been a formal event, I'd have state records." He chuckled softly. "I guess that's one good thing about not having powers, I don't have to worry about anyone coming back later on and saying I only accomplished this because I was special and had an unfair advantage." A savage smirk crossed Sean's delicate features at the mention of Chet's resentment. If not the worse of his tormentors, he'd been close, and the most physical of them. If Cade taking the role he assumed was his hurt his ego, fucking awesome. And though Sean had never really heard Cade boast that much before, after him mentioning how much he envied the rest of the Fellowship their psionic gifts, it was good hearing him put himself above the asshole jock. "Dude! Every top athlete is special and has advantages, physical and/or mental," Sean protested with a chuckle. "Usain Bolt, Michael Phelps, Michael Jordan. Yadda Yadda. Yeah, Teagan, if she's not like Lilly, she might be close." He oldest sister was tall, nearly six feet, and had always been ridiculously athletic. He nodded at his hulkingly large friend. If they were standing side by side, the top of Sean's head didn't even reach Cade's shoulder. "And you, man. How many sixteen year old guys are as tall as you, yet seem like they've spent an extra ten years in a heavy gravity gym?" The redhead waved away Cade's protests with a grin. "I know what you mean. If football isn't grabbing you, don't worry about it. But if you aren't really thinking about baseball or track as an actual career, just do whichever will give you the best scholarship, or net you the most in NIL fees, so you can do what you want." He shook his head and took another sip of coffee. "Weird, thinking about the future, normal future stuff, when we know what we know, seen what we've seen, eh?" He chuckled. "Not so weird. I think it's important to still have dreams and goals." He smiled at Sean. "Can't fight interdimensional horrors for the rest of our lives. I know I sure as hell don't want to." He rolled his shoulders. "I love Track and baseball, and provided things stay on track, I'm pretty sure I can get a scholarship for either of them. Though, that brings up something else. I've started trying to read more, study more. Not looking to learn the secrets of the universe, I'll leave that to those of y'all who're smarter and far more interested in that sort of thing, but at least so I don't have to panic on every really big test." It was certainly true that all his extracurricular activities kept him busy and left him less time than he wanted. Taking on Football left him even less time, but for now he was going to try to maintain and keep up with everything. He sighed slightly, before grabbing another slice. "I mean you still think about it right? What you want to do after we're done with all this strangeness." His eyes narrowed. "Do you think we'll ever actually be done?" It wasn't that he was imploring for a particular answer, it was the same genuine voice Cade asked most questions with, seeking an honest answer. "We're done whenever we want to be done," Sean said with a somber seriousness. "We aren't forced to stay in this shit, except by our own morals and desires and choices. If you want, you can just walk away from it." He gave a deep sigh and slid his mug aside with the back of his hand. "You wouldn't be the first. That ain't judgement, by the way. Everyone has the right to make the decisions that are best for them and theirs. That said, I'm still in it. For now, at least." Sean didn't see the need to add that it was not least in part due to self interest. Site B might hold the best answer to his panoply of genetic questions. "But yeah, I think about what I'm going to do after all the time." I might not have any time at all. He waved back over a slim shoulder towards one of his computer set-ups. "The game is part of it. I don't plan to live in Montana forever. There's a whole world to see. Heh. After what we've seen, there's very likely more than just one, really. Thinking about - planning for - the future helps me get through the present." "If there's anything I can do Sean, I'll help however I can." He smiled, and it was clear that wasn't just an empty platitude. Cade meant every word. "If there's something you need to get off your chest, I got you covered." The much larger teen was nothing if not sincere, and while he couldn't claim to know everything he'd resolved to be a better friend to his friends, and that whatever he could do, he would. "I still dream of winning the world series. I'm gonna make that one happen, one day." "When that happens, I'll buy a ticket and be there to see ya," Sean said with a grin. "And, same offer, if you need something, you just need to ask." Cade collected the few remaining slices of pizza into a single box, his strong shoulders slumping slightly with a sigh. "I should probably head out. Got some truths to tell the Twins." Sean didn't envy Cade that at all. "Latter, dude," Sean said, seeing Cade to the door and watched him amble towards his Wrangler. "And good luck."
  12. Yeah. Place does look nice. Been awhile since I been here as well. I hope everyone is safe and been enjoying themselves. How the rp's been doing? Also how is everyone, and what's been going on?
  13. Good. Like I say, doing some writing. Working in the yard, trying to keep in my kids lives while they still live here, wondering how I'm supposed to retire in 15 - 20 years, the usual stuff. Hope you are doing well, sir? And you. What's been going on?
  14. Heya. Great to see ya. How have ya been?
  15. Like I say, the site looks fantastic. So, I figure I'll poke around a bit. I've been writing lately, which always makes me think of y'all. Hope everyone is doing well!
  16. Her target being grappled, even if he managed to avoid the attempt, was unexpected. Tisa had no idea who this slender person was, but the stun ring to their chest from the bounty hunter's blaster made it pretty clear that they were not on good terms. The lanky male was still standing though, and was at least forcing the bounty hunter to divide his attention, giving her the best opening for a shot that she was likely to get. 'Frak it. Enemy of my enemy...' Tisa thought to herself as she squeezed the trigger once more and sent another glowing stun ring down the hall, illuminating the walls for an instant as it passed.
  17. The bounty hunter reflexively shook off the attack, it wasn't until he saw had attempted to subdue him that fear washed over his features. This was wrong, this was all wrong. Had they been tipped off? Did the boss have a mole in his crew? How did could they have such a precise counterattack planned like this? Outlaw style the hunter panicked and fired off a shot from the hip. The blast caught Shiv square in the chest but the capacitors in his electromesh armor did their thing and dissipated the stun blast before it could overload his synapse and cause him to faint. The pale, long-eared warrior still took a couple steps back from the impact, leaving him looking grimmer, and now certainly more aggravated than he had been before being shot in the chest. The bounty hunter braced himself for a fight. The hall was blocked by the intimidating human further down, expectantly waiting for his opportunity to step in. The nagi must work for him, he thought, as Ian just stood near his doorway, non-chalauntly, and whomever had circled around behind them and blocked off the door… yeah, these guys were professionals. The boss wasn’t going to be happy one bit.
  18. "Might." The Grim Creeper emphasized, eyes flickering up from the book he'd been reading. "And that frankly," Mel went on with upfront brute honesty, "is a stretch at best. I only asked him because he happened to show up at the pier, and I didn't have any better ideas." All right, perhaps he wasn't quite as skeptical as he made it sound about the 'Theurge', but the ex-soldier wasn't ready to go all in on oracles either. Maya sighed, and went for the wine bottle. It had to make hearing this better, right? "Okay. Who is this guy?" "Deacon Knight," Mel answered. "My neighbor. Kid who goes all in on video games, has that kind of weekly game with dice, wizards, and whatnot. Agreed when I told him he'd be meeting college girls. He's that sort."
  19. Gunnar 'Einherjar' Torenson Role: Techie " Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, strike like a thunderbolt." Name: Gunnar Torenson Cultural Origins: West European (German) Personality: Rebellious, antisocial and violent. Clothing Style: Nomad Leathers Hairstyle: Short cropped Affectation: Mercenary tattoos What Do You Value Most? His word. Feelings About People? Despises almost everyone. ("Maggots." is his favorite term for the public at large.) Most Valued Person: No-one (Somewhat of a nihilist, Gunnar barely values his own life. It's mostly simple cussedness that keeps him going) Most Valued Possession: A photo of himself with an old flame. (Yes, he's still got a touch of the big hearted romantic in him. Well hidden, and very scarred.) Family Background: Pacifica Combat Zoners Childhood Environment: In Pacifica, learning to fight and survive. Family Crisis: Family were wiped out in one of Pacifica's innumerable gang wars. Life Goals: Save an old flame from prison. (A matter of honor as much as romance.) Current Employment: Works alone, a self-employed jack-of-all trades Techie. Main clients are Solos and combat types, wanting weapons fixed or upgraded. Gets most of his supplies through scavenging combat zones, but has attracted the notice of 6th Street, who want him to work for them. Attributes - INT 7|REF 6|DEX 6|TECH 8|COOL 4|WILL 6|LUCK 6|MOVE 6|BODY 8|EMP 2 (5) Skills - Role Special: Maker: 4 (Field Expertise 2, Upgrade 2, Fabrication 2, Invention 2) Awareness Skills [INT]: Concentration [WILL] 2, Conceal/Reveal Object, Lip Reading , Perception 4, Tracking Body Skills [DEX]: Athletics 4, Contortionist, Dance, Endurance [WILL] 4, Resist Torture/Drugs [WILL], Stealth 4 Control Skills [REF]: Drive Land Vehicle 1, Pilot Air Vehicle, Pilot Sea Vehicle, Riding Education Skills [INT]: Accounting , Animal Handling, Bureaucracy , Business , Composition, Criminology, Cryptography, Deduction 4, Education 3, Gamble, Language (German) 4, Language (Street Slang) 2, Language (Spanish) N/A, Library Search, Local Expert (Pacifica) 3, Science, Tactics 2, Wilderness Survival Fighting Skills [DEX]: Brawling 6, Evasion 4, Martial Arts, Melee Weapon Performance Skills: Acting [COOL], Play Instrument [TECH] Ranged Weapon Skills [REF]: Archery, Autofire, Handgun 5, Heavy Weapons, Shoulder Arms 5 Social Skills [COOL]: Bribery, Conversation [EMP] 2, Human Perception [EMP] 2, Interrogation, Persuasion 2, Personal Grooming 4, Streetwise, Trading, Wardrobe & Style 4 Technique Skill [TECH]: Air Vehicle Tech, Basic Tech 4, Cybertech, Demolitions 3, Electronics/Security Tech 3, First Aid 4, Forgery, Land Vehicle Tech 3, Paint/Draw/Sculpt, Paramedic, Photography/Film, Pick Lock, Pick Pocket, Sea Vehicle Tech, Weaponstech 4 Equipment – Light Armorjack Body Armor(Modified with Duraweave inlays) (12SP), Light Armorjack Head Armor (SP11), V. Heavy Pistol (4d6): Custom Smartlink, Concealable, Ammunition(Standard x50, Armor Piercing x20), Techtool, Computer, Agent. Fashion: Leathers (Bottoms x 1, Jacket x1, T-shirt x5, Boots x 1), 3x light tattoos. Cyberwear (23/50 HUM) – Cyberarm(left) with:-Big Knucks (Heated mod – applies mild fire status),Techscanner, Subdermal Grip; Neural Link; Right hand Subdermal Grip Hit Points – 45 (Seriously Wounded 23, Death Save 8.) Home/Lifestyle - Gunnar lives in a lockup (cargo container) on the edges of the Pacifica combat zone. It ain’t much, but it’s home. Sort of. At least for now. Workspace: A mess of blueprint paper, tools, and odds and ends of junk that may or may not be useful. Inventions of Note: Custom Neural Lock Smartlink – Acts as a smartlink modification but also is keyed to a particular neural link pattern, without which it simply will not fire. Bio: Gunnar Torenson has never known an easy lesson in his life. Born and raised in Pacifica, his family scrounged and scraped a living in the combat zone. He took to two things well – building and repairing devices scavenged by his family, and violence. His intellect helped him with the first, and his size and ferocity with the second, and the young man could well have become a fixture in Night City’s underworld if not for the murder of his entire extended gang family, including his first girlfriend, by a rival gang. Losing his taste for the backstabbing paranoia of Night City, Gunnar left what was remaining of his home and travelled, signing on with whatever merc group would have him and fighting in brushfire wars and corporate struggles all over the world. His skills at weapon maintenance, security and demolitions stood him in as good a stead as his aptitude for warfare, but his poor people skills and violent, rebellious attitude have inevitably led him back to Night City, minus an arm and all out of second chances... Psychological Profile: A life of harsh conflict and hard knocks has made a hard man. Gunnar has no time for weakness or sentimentality, his concept of 'warriors honor' the only check on his violent temper most of the time. He despises weasel words and people who pretend to verbal cleverness, preferring straight talk amongst allies - deception is for enemies, after all, and the surest way to get on his bad side is to play games with him. He is not, as people have found out to their shock and dismay, merely a violent thug however. His technological skills and his delight in setting intricate mechanical or electronic booby traps display a subtlety of thought that is not at all obvious when speaking to the man, and his lifetime of war has left him with a solid tactical grounding that many street-raised edgerunners may lack. Enemies/Problems: -Kingsly, the government official – During Gunnar’s travelling mercenary days, he crossed paths with a Fixer by the name of Kingsly Horowitz, a weaselly man with a tendency to play both ends against the middle so long as it benefited him. Gunnar caused him a severe public humiliation after a deal went sour and the big Techie lost his temper and beat Kingsly until he pissed himself in front of an entire bar. Nowadays, Kingsly has moved on to a different kind of Fixer work as part of Night City’s political machinery. Has three friends who might conceivably help him get even. Kingsly isn’t likely to risk direct confrontation again, but will almost certainly try to backstab Gunnar indirectly if he gets a chance. -R.C, the boosterganger – R.C. ‘Arcee’ Koontz, street enforcer and up-and-comer of the 6th Street Gang. Him and Gunnar just don’t like each other: like a more explosive mixture of oil and water. Can throw himself and 1 close friend at Gunnar. Confrontations between them invariably turn violent. Only the fact that 6th Street want Gunnar working for them keeps RC from being able to get the traction to off the big techie, but it's only a matter of time. Quirks: Cigars. He's always got one in his teeth, though it's not always lit. Maggots. If you've not seen war, if you're not prepared to shed your own blood to see the enemy bleed, if you think you can benefit from violence with clean hands and are better than him because of it, if you'd rather lick the boot than rip the leg off - you're a maggot. Deal with it, and be better. Anger Issues. He's got them. Morose and sullen most of the time, when poked this bear will turn vicious. And no, his bark is not worse than his bite. Brotherhood of battle. Einherjar has a lot of time for those he's shared a battlefield with, even those on opposite sides - so long as the conflict is now past. Mercs and veterans, if they can prove their bona fides, tend to get some slack.
  20. Well things were looking good last week so this week will pan out.
  21. That's good to hear. I hope that everything is ok.
  22. Sorry I didn't respond quickly, but it seems this Friday is for certain the bandages are done. They did one more week to ensure that everything was 100% healed and the skin was strong. After that I should be golden.
  23. Edgerunner: Megan "Quake" Richter Role: Solo "Boom." Name: Megan Richter Cultural Origins: North American Personality: Stoic, Dedicated, Chill Clothing Style: Leisure/Urban Flash Hairstyle: Shoulder length, sidecut Affectation: Metal What Do You Value Most? Loyalty Feelings About People? People are untrustworthy, until they prove otherwise. Most Valued Person: Father Most Valued Possession: Old photograph of mother. Family Background: Combat Zone Childhood Environment: Streets and gangs Family Crisis: Family debt Life Goals: Get out from under obligations so she can start living her own life. Current Employment: Private security contractor Attributes - INT 6|REF 8|DEX 8|TECH 3|COOL 5|WILL 6|LUCK 4|MOVE 7|BODY 8|EMP 7 Role Ability: Combat Awareness 4 Skills - Awareness Skills [INT]: Concentration [WILL] 2, Conceal/Reveal Object 4, Lip Reading, Perception 5, Tracking Body Skills [DEX]: Athletics 5, Contortionist, Dance, Endurance [WILL] 2, Resist Torture/Drugs [WILL], Stealth 2 Control Skills [REF]: Drive Land Vehicle 2, Pilot Air Vehicle, Pilot Sea Vehicle, Riding Education Skills [INT]: Accounting, Animal Handling, Bureaucracy, Business, Composition, Criminology, Cryptography, Deduction 3, Education 2, Gamble, Language (English) Native, Language (Street Slang) 2, Language (French Creole) 4, Library Search, Local Expert (Pacifica) 2, Science, Tactics 4, Wilderness Survival Fighting Skills [DEX]: Brawling 2, Evasion 6, Martial Arts (Judo) 6, Melee Weapon Performance Skills: Acting [COOL], Play Instrument [TECH] Ranged Weapon Skills [REF]: Archery, Autofire 6, Handgun 6, Heavy Weapons, Shoulder Arms 2 Social Skills [COOL]: Bribery, Conversation [EMP] 2, Human Perception [EMP] 2, Interrogation, Persuasion 2, Personal Grooming, Streetwise 3, Trading, Wardrobe & Style Technique Skill [TECH]: Air Vehicle Tech, Basic Tech, Cybertech, Demolitions, Electronics/Security Tech, First Aid 2, Forgery, Land Vehicle Tech, Paint/Draw/Sculpt, Paramedic, Photography/Film, Pick Lock, Pick Pocket, Sea Vehicle Tech, Weaponstech Equipment – Smart Glasses (Targeting Optics, Chyron, Customized Plug-In Port), Anti-smog Mask, Caryall, Radio Communicator, Flashlight, Rope (60yards), Binoculars, Handcuffs, Agent, Very Heavy Pistol, Heavy SMG, Light Armorjack Body Armor (11SP), Light Armorjack Head Armor (SP11), Ammunition (VH Pistol) 40, (HSMG) 80 Fashion: Leisurewear (footwear, jacket, bottoms, top), Urban Flash (jacket, bottoms, top) Fashionware: Shift-tacts (Glowing red; triggered when angry), tech-hair, chemskin Lifestyle: Housing - Cube Hotel (Rent: 500), Food - Kibble Cyberwear (70/70 HUM) – Hit Points – 45 (Seriously Wounded 23, Death Save Combat: Arasaka Zenith | Acc: 14+1d10 | Dmg: 4d6 | Acc: Smarlink | Qual: Std Beretta PM-26 PDW | Acc: 14+1d10 | Dmg: 3d6 | Firing Modes: 3 rnd burst, Autofire 3, Suppression | Qual: Std Judo | Acc: 14+1d10 | Dmg: 3d6 1/2 SP | RoF 2 | Manuevers: Counterthrow, Escape Grab Bio: Megan's parents were unfortunate victims of Pacifica's fall to anarchy. Her father worked on one of the construction crews as a foreman, her mother was a company medic. They weren't so much fired from their positions as the company ceased to exist overnight, and before they knew what was happening it was too dangerous to move around the streets. They found solidarity with a pack of similar residents and helped found 'The Eastgate Hussars,' which was essentially a cross between a neighborhood watch and a street gang; a model adopted by other gangs moving in, albeit on larger scales. For a time they held their turf, and there was a semblance of something approaching order. Megan herself ranged beyond the boundaries of Hussar territory out of wanderlust and loneliness. There weren't many kids her age on the block she grew up on, plain and simple. She learned to protect herself, training daily with several of the Hussars, and that combined with a child's sense of invulnerability to make her overconfident in her abilities. It all came crashing down with breathtaking speed though. (continued) Psychological Profile: Megan Richter is methodical in her approach to life; a symptom of someone who has fallen victim to her own impatience too many times. This applies especially to giving trust and forming relationships; though she tends to put forward a relaxed and convivial attitude, she is much slower to build trust than she might seem to be. The flip side of this is that she holds herself to high standards of integrity so she can honestly say she can trust herself. Similarly, when someone has earned that trust from her, she keeps it close and values it dearly. Less than a handful of people in the world currently enjoy that status with her. Beyond trust issues, Richter is not given to complain or give voice to her troubles; preferring instead to take action whenever possible. Her actions, as with most things about her, are planned in advance as much as possible...though Megan is not given to complex scheming. She prefers simple, direct plans when that's feasible and only adds complicating factors grudgingly and with prejudice. Indeed her planning process is more of a mental exercise to force her to slow down and think things through than anything. Known Allies: "Giz" - A technician posted in Quake's squad while she served with the Hellrazors mercenaries, Quake and Giz established a fast friendship after he took fire and she dragged him into cover and administered enough first aid to keep him alive until they could be extracted. Throughout the course of her service in the unit Giz was a confidant and occasional lover until she left. Quake benefitted from Giz's technical expertise as well, as he often offered her unique 'gizmos' to field test. Her customized smart glasses that can interface with smartguns is one such device. Enemies/Problems: ? – Quirks:
  24. Dar'Krin only hesitated a moment as the blue light from the stun blasts reflected off the ferrocrete walls. He wasn't sure who was in the right in this firefight - or even if there was a right side to start with - but the longer it went on the greater chance there was of a stray blaster bolt hitting a bystander, like the human male who stood gaping a few metres away. The best course of action was to stop the fight, then sort out who was who. That said, he wasn't about to glide up behind the nearest combatant and put his knife through their vitals. These weren't stormtroopers - it wasn't obvious who the aggressor was here. So he opted instead to draw his blade and moved up behind the roughly dressed man facing away from him. It should have gone off without a hitch. The bounty hunter was unaware of the danger at his back, and Dar'Krin was skilled at close-fighting. One arm snaked around the man's shoulders, designed to pull him off balance and backwards so that Dar could place the tip of his tehk'la to the thug's throat. Unfortunately, the burly human's reflexive jerk and twist as he realised his peril ruined the maneuver, and the man's eyes widened as he half-turned and realised he was face-to-face with one of his targets, the Nagai.
  25. Well, this wasn't exactly what Ianmar expected, when he got a view of the situation. There was the pointed-eared male humanoid (Ianmar didn't recognize the species) tensely facing outward towards the foyer, the hunter already there and taking cover, and finally, the pink Zeltron woman. Ianmar had seen her a couple times, coming in and out of a room at the end of the hallway. He hadn't been expecting... whatever this was...
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