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Everything posted by Mel Grimson

  1. Mel would have snapped back hard at the vitriol- Irish slurs especially, but with difficulty, great apparent difficulty, he controlled himself. "Karrie. One, I only heard the tail end as I just walked up. Second, a simple 'it's private' would suffice, I'll leave if that suits you." He turned and glared to add one more thing. "Oh, and considering you are trespassing... security was already screaming to grab you, but I asked them to hold off so you could have your talk. If I was a little less tolerant, you wouldn't have any more of that. As it stands, they're screaming to DSA now." Then Mel stalked away, muttering something Irish and unpleasant under his breath.
  2. That was a little unexpected by Karrie. Anyway, people mind holding off until I can formulate a proper response?
  3. "That'll give the eggheads at the DSA science event their new challenge of the year. Certainly EuroNet's." Mel commented as he stepped up from behind Karrie, grinning as she whirled in surprise. "Hello, Karrie." Turning his gaze to nod to his unknowing principal to protect, Mel nodded in greeting. "Hello, Mr. Vyserian... and Princess Amarath. Name's Mel Grimson, and I hope you don't mind the intrusion, but since Karrie showed up, I wanted to say hello. And the conversation was an interesting one, to be honest." Meanwhile, tangent to the talk, Mel's senses expanded onto the quantum, and he focused on his primary one hidden ability, a knack for focusing on one person for a time and simply analyzing to the point of knowing what they could do. Powers, enhanced attributes, it was all the same. And though the feed was slow, Mel found behind the mask of his smile, his head being floored by the surprise. A few powers Karrie. And a shapeshifter, lassie. You are a trickster, girl. At least I know how you got in.
  4. It's an old custom power Fox made in SGU, which we modded for CN: http://www.rpgpost.com/topic/16570-cosmos-nova-ooc/page__st__60#entry286155 Mel has it too.
  5. In an office overlooking the meeting of the two below, Mel Grimson peered out at the scene with observant interest. As far as the general Ramiles staff knew, he was assigned from EuroNet on ambigious 'special duties.' To accentuate the cover, he'd droven the staff crazy by requisitioning every sort of piece of patient data in the Centre's files under the electronic sun. In truth, his business was far simpler. Director Bequin had been rather strongly clear on that point, that member of the EuroNet command cadre much sharper tongued than usual when Mel was sent to meet with her for a special briefing. To be fair, she had to be feeling pressure there. One British citizen, one Swedish Princess, now two elves out of D&D and reported psychological issues on that score. It came down even more on his head thusly, but Mel was ordered to quietly keep a protective eye on Vysarian/Amaranth and Taeli/Kevin. Security had predictably started squawking about security intrustions once Karrie appeared in view, but Mel had calmly told them over the comms that Karrie was recognized, DSA, and to back the fuck off. He'd handle the issue about her entrance with her later. Still, the beserk fear felt ludicrious, if it wasn't for the fact that the UK was fricking even worse. Still, this made an excuse for him to get a closer approach to and gauge one of his unknowing charges for himself. Mel rose up, tossing elf-focused psych evals on the table and went for the stairs. Also, he noted, Karrie got in somehow? That was something to ask about too.
  6. Mel let out a whistle as Karrie went down, causing Rob to actually throw a serious look at him. Mel, chastened, shrugged. "I'll remember not to ask next time." He plucked the bottle, glanced at it, then decided, hell to it. "Bottoms up." Before anyone could stop him, Mel uncorked the bottle and started swigging the drink down to shocked anticipatory stares. But decades of liquor drinking and nova-stamina told here, and the bottle was dry shortly thereafter. Mel wiped off his mouth. "Nice stuff. I need to get the recipie when Karrie wakes up."
  7. So clarification for Mel's background, he's been edited to be a EuroNet agent, though he often is focused on 'home turf' in the UK.
  8. Mel had found himself eventually glowering out on the railing. He just didn't feel in place. For so long, his world had been blood, death, battle, and general dour-ness. The fellowship here was not the kind he knew. Why was he here? Was it serious to expect him to make bonds? You haven't begun to try yet. The self-admonition had its mark, and Mel got around back to the gathering knot and mentions of Cheeze-Whiz. A 'kids these days' comment he didn't make, seeing as that would have stirred up painful memories. Instead, Mel raised a hand for Karrie's attention. "You know, enough talk about the Hair of the Coyote. Put your beer where your mouth is. And I mean it literally. You wouldn't serve something you wouldn't drink yourself, eh?"
  9. "Which one?" Mel asked wryly with a quirk to his lips. "In my fifty-plus years of life, I've seen enough for a library of stories." Most of them involving death, violence, war, misery, pain, misery, blood- etc to oblivion and beyond, but fucking hell, so what? One couldn't pick and choose everything. Kei, more than a little surprised, remarked, "Fifty-plus? You look only late thirties, early forties." Her visual guesstimate was quite accurate, causing Mel to increase his grin. That was true, but there was a reason for it- and that context would make an excellent story in and of itself. "Well, then I think I know what story to tell you." The light glinted off a ferocious smile at the memory. *Flashback* March 18, 2008 Ballymena, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom The explosion, thundering with a boom worthy of Olympian bolts, jarred Mel awake, eyes snapping open to adjust to the flash of light that immediately followed, illuminating the living room with a golden glow, more ominous than reassuring. With decades of life in combat dictating that he get up and armed, he did so, cursing as he found himself knocking over the near-empty glass of whiskey on a nearby small table. The drink did not hamper him, thankfully, but the booms and flashes of gold continued as he stumbled over to one of the secure cabinets in the kitchen, where he kept one of his leftover guns from his IRA days. Not a good sign. Nova attack? Something nova-related was going on, and Mel suspected it was going to wreak havoc on the neighborhood if not stopped. In haste, when the lock wouldn't open- and he couldn't waste time to find the special key, Mel frustratedly resorted to smashing open the padlock- he'd buy a new and better one later. Immediately, he pulled out the AR-18 and quickly checked it over. Functional and the magazine was all set for loading. Mel slotted it in and raced out the front door... into Pandemonium. Fires were burning about the town, screams of fear and pain were resounding, and a clear trail of destruction had come to the neighborhood, through the prize public park even. The culprit was up in the air, a man with green hair, surrounded by a bubble of golden light which resisted the town police's meager bullets. He was inhumanly handsome, but the image was damaged by how casually the man waved, causing bolts of that golden light to shoot through Constables O'Ryan and Peters, leaving smoking, fatal holes in their torsos. What was worse than seeing his drinking buddies at the pub simply wiped out, what set Mel on edge, was how the man laughed. "Ha! What can you do, little zips? Huh?" As if the murder, the horror being perpetrated was sport. A game that only the green-haired man enjoyed and felt entitled to. The brutality, being someone who knew what it really meant, made Mel's vision go nearly red, pulse pounding drums of war. Raising the AR-18, he started firing bursts at the sphere-encased man while making a run for the corner of the house across the street, which would provide better. The bullets were practically incinerated as they intersected the force field, and the murderous nova snorted derisively at the aging ex-Legionaire. "Oh fuck off and die!" Mel had barely time to see the fast moving bolt splash into the area of his path, and he went up and into the house wall, collapsing to the ground in a heap. Pain shot around everyone, and he was instinctively certain ribs had been broken. But the beat in his head, aching tremendously did not let up. It almost seemed to have a language to it. GET UP. DON'T DIE. KILL THE SOB. Somehow, Mel pushed a hard up and lifted off the ground. Staggering to an upright position, he surveyed the field of carnage and understood. The nova's dismissive firing pattern led quick windows of time to jink aside. The AR-18 was smashed, but the dropped pistols of Peters would do just as well. He pushed off and charged. His target finally noticed and blinked in surprise, before focusing now on really swatting down Mel. But every motion Mel observed and figured into understanding where the next shot would come. Always he ducked or leaped away before the shot got close enough to have a chance of harming him. Then Mel slid and scooped up the service revolver, and raised it from a kneeling position, arms extended forward to point the gun dead-on at the nova's chest. "Take this!" The trigger was pulled, the gun discharged, but at the moment of launch, the bullet in question glowed blue, swathed in a jacket of energy. It cracked through the air and blew apart the golden shield like tinfoil, and the marauder had nothing of a heart or other local internal organs now. Even as he felt a deep belief that justice and vengeance had been rendered, Mel suddenly observed that his hands looked much less wrinkled now... *End Flashback* The story had just finished being told when Professor Darklighter showed up. Mel had heard enough to know who he was, and nod companionably in welcome. "'Lo Professor."
  10. Appearance/Personality: Mel's ruddy skin, short red hair and menacing brown eyes combine to inspire unease and spell trouble for people. He comes off as a crass, stony old man, fighting Irish and everything. For clothing, he might be wearing fatigues, or perhaps simply a windbreaker and everyday clothing, your choice. Also, expect him to be carrying a gun of some kind, maybe even a knife too. Scowl optional.
  11. Mel slid down and tried not to laugh at the whole scene, Dineh's commentary aside. "I'll take an upper room then. And I don't think Karrie's a hater... she was acting more like..." His observations pin-pointed on the lady, and the veteran had to hide his own smirk- failing, for he remembered that age in his life. "Doesn't really matter." He shrugged it off, letting Karrie have her secret safe from the oblivious Mech. The man had so many women fawning over him, he couldn't recognize the signs of a genuine admirer through and through. "I should ask though, what's the policy on what goes on in guest bedrooms? I think Telluris will be testing any restrictions to the limit."
  12. Mel supposed since everyone was letting their hair down like this: ah, fuck. Once if never. In a clear show of similar high-end nova coordination and reflexes, he leaped up, feet on the railing for miliseconds, before pushing off for a second jump and he grabbed the mast, swinging around but holding easily onto it several feet off the ground. "As the tom-fool Telluris said, I'm Mel Grimson, from North Ireland. UK agent, for the record. Also for the record, what just happened was how a real pirate boards a ship, not like your fake blarney Yank floating over."
  13. Why Director Hammond had been so pushy about getting him over to America to be at this party, Mel did not understand. All that blather about the need to form good relations with 'our allies across the pond' and the need for Mel to be more social was to say the least, aggravating and patronizing. Bureaucrats. Despite the nature and isolation of his usual missions, Mel more than certainly needed his freedom from lonliness, especially with potential colleagues. Besides, international waters would be a safe place from the overbearing desk jockeys like Hammond. He hoped so. When he showed up at the ramp to the Yacht, it was in a casual sort of black suit and green pants. "Permission to come aboard!" Mel bellowed with a hint of Irish brogue, meeting the eyes of Mech whom he had met once before- fuck. Lensherr too, at the same meeting. Time to face a load of Irish jokes.
  14. I'm not really certain Mel will be there, honestly, less interaction as security.
  15. Hmm. I am considering having Mel there, for the simple idea of being temporarily lent security for the place... even the egghead smug quotient pales in comparison to some challenges.
  16. I think what Umi is trying to say, is that a number of us feel that your concept, George, is not really going to fit in with our concept for CN. We're trying for a largely straightforward, vanilla Aberrant game.
  17. Well, once Varro gets more for the EU, I can elaborate for the UK. Anyway, just so I know I have group consensus, is there anything else marked on my sheets that can be considered in-theme other than the ones I have? I just don't want to mass discount my purchases without knowledge that I'm on solid ground.
  18. Concept: Super-Soldier Nature: Survivor Series: IE: Cosmos Nova Strength: 4 (Wiry) Dexterity 5 Mega Dex: 5 Athletics: 5 Drive: 2 Firearms: 5 Martial Arts: 5 Melee: 5 Stealth: 5 Stamina: 4 (Tough) Mega Sta: 3 Endurance: 4 Resistance: 5 Perception: 5 (Alert) Mega Per: 3 Awareness: 5 Investigation: 2 Intelligence: 4 (Pragmatic) Mega Int: 1 Computer: 1 Engineering: 1 Intrusion: 3 Linguistics: 3 (Native: English, Spanish, French, German) Survival: 2 Wits: 5 (Jaded) Mega Wits: 5 Tactics: 5 Rapport: 5 Appearance: 2 Intimidation: 5 Manipulation: 2 Interrogation: 5 Streetwise: 5 Subterfuge: 3 Charisma: 2 Willpower: 10 Initiative: +23 Movement: 7m/22m/40m Soak (Bashing): 29B Soak (Lethal): 23L Soak (Aggravated): 15A Quantum: 5 Quantum Points: 50 QP Taint: 0 Backgrounds: Resources: 2 Cipher: 3 Backing: 3 Merits and Flaws Merit: Iron Will Enhancements: DEX: Catfooted Perfect Balance Enhanced Movement STA: Durability Hardbody Regeneration Resiliency x2 INT: Tactical Prodigy WIT: Quickness Multitasking Foresight PER: Estimation Quantum Attunement Quantum Powers: Claws: 5 (Strengths: Extra without raising level, Weakness: Limited to melee, ranged or improvised weapons -3, Extras: Aggravated, Armor Piercing, Kinetic Discharge) Combat Senses: 5 Armor: 5 (Extras: Impervious) Psychic Shield: 5 Empathetic Shield: 5 Sensory Shield: 5 Premonition: 1 BP LOG WP +4 - 8 Iron Will Merit - 6 Background dot - 1 NP LOG WP + 3 - 3 Attribute dots +9 - 3 Ability dots +48 - 8 M-Per 3 - 9 M-Dex 5 (in theme) - 10 M-Wits 5 (in theme) - 10 M-Sta 3 - 9 M-Int 1 - 3 Extra for Claws - 3 Sensory Shield 5 - 5 Psychic Shield 5 - 5 Empathetic Shield 5 - 5 Claws 5 (in theme) - 10 Armor 5 (in theme) - 10 Combat Senses 5 (in theme) - 5 [/CODE] [/font] [font=arial,helvetica,sans-serif][CODE] XP LOG Month of March - +25 XP, Balance: 25 XP Regeneration Enhancement - -5 XP, Balance: 20 XP Resiliency x2 Enhancements - -10 XP, Balance: 10 XP[/font] [font=arial,helvetica,sans-serif]Premonition 1 - -6 XP, Balance: 4 XP
  19. Mel Grimson Personal Information: Birth Name: Mel Grimson Occupation: EuroNet Special Agent - UK/EU Legal Status: [Redacted] Marital Status: Single Known Relatives: Matthew & Melicia Grimson (parents) Concept: Irish version of the Gran Turino lead Nature: Survivor Physical Traits: Weight: 160 lb. Height: 5'8 Age (apparent age): 40 Gender: Male Ethnic Background: Caucasian Nationality (place of origin): Born American, Irish all his life Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Red Handedness: Right Appearance/Personality: Mel's ruddy skin, short red hair and menacing brown eyes combine to inspire unease and spell trouble for people. He comes off as a crass, stony old man, fighting Irish and everything. Background: Mel Grimson was born in Chicago, but his Irish-American parents split, Matthew Grimson taking Mel back to Ulster, and it could be said that Mel never really left there. Growing up in an angry and tense era, he was a youthful member of the IRA before he realized that it wasn't getting their lot anywhere in Northern Ireland. Sin Feinn's slow acceptance in public life convinced him to put down the gun- sorta. Perhaps war had never really left his blood, but he joined the Foreign Legion and went through the expendable life for France. Such a life is never easy on the soul, and when Mel returned after nearly three decades of experience, he couldn't really get on well with the neighbors, a now largely ethnic Asian neighborhood, nor with his mother and half-siblings from Melicia's remarriage. Even an romance with a woman he thought could understand him, Cecilia, failed when she tragically died from Lyme disease she never knew she had. Mel just was lonely in a peacetime place, and life was nothing like he could deal with. Then, the arrival of powered refugees from another dimension led to trouble, when a Terat nova began causing havoc across the neighborhood. Even uneasy with his neighbors as he was, Mel dared to go out with his old rifle to shoot the bastard. Two in the head, glowing blue-fire rounds that punched through Goldsphere's force fields, and to Mel's amazement, he'd recovered a decade of his life. The UK hopped onto him immediately, giving him a re-forged opportunity to do good in the way he knew best. Currently, Mel serves as one of the elite special agents of EuroNet, easily capable of going toe to toe with whatever nova threat there is to Great Britain or elsewhere in the Union.
  20. And re-posting the writeup for Combat Sense power so people can make judgements: Combat Sense Level: 2 Quantum Minimum: 3 Dice Pool: Wits + Combat Sense Range: self Duration: Maintenance Area: N/A Effect: Gives the character an uncanny awareness of the ebbs and flows of combat. Number of successes determines degree of effectiveness. Multiple action: yes Description: This power is a focussed and super-specialised evolution of enhancements such as Foresight and Tactical Prodigy. Through having a supreme sense of spatial awareness and an preternatural grasp of the flow of battle around them the nova seems almost to be a jinx for his enemies. Those that live long enough to curse his luck are unlikely to realise that it isn't fortune favoring him at all, but the ability to predict the way the fight is going before the first blow is struck. This power works as Luck, save that it’s duration is Maintenance, rather than Permanent, it is a Level 2 power, and it has a dice pool of (Wits + Combat Sense) instead of just Luck. Most importantly the extra dice and successes can only be applied to combat actions. This power won't help in any other way. Combat actions can include reading a tactical overview of a battle and directing forces appropriately, but not long term strategic planning. A nova with this power can use it in a fight or to direct a battle, but not to the scale of planning needed to wage a war
  21. Actually, sorry about earlier, I had to take some time to simmer down a bit. Hopefully you guys won't mind me still playing?
  22. Fox: Can I carry over the special custom Combat Hypersenses power Dec used in SGU?
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