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Mutants & Masterminds: Future Imperfect - [Fic] Some Days [Complete]


z-Ronnie Collins

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It was a typically hot day in Vegas, but Ronnie was smoking anyway. She’d drawn her hair up into a ponytail to get it off her neck, but it didn’t help much. Her purple eyes were hidden behind her shades, but her hair marked her as a mutant and some people gave her a wide berth on the sidewalk. That and the heat put her in a bad mood as she walked toward the Spearmint Rhino. Normally she’d drive, but the Rover wouldn’t start and cabbies wouldn’t pick her up, not an obvious mutant like her. All of that put her in a worse mood – that third strike made this day officially suck.

The only thing that kept her from just calling and canceling on Travis was that it was Travis. She’d walk through hell for her former partner, so hanging out with him in a comfortable place with beer shouldn’t be too much of a burden. And she was sure if she told herself that enough, she’d believe it. Probably.

Ronnie paused and turned back, squinting through her shades. She wasn’t really aware of what she’d done until after she’d done it. Sucking hard on her cigar, she stared at her path, trying to see why she suddenly had her back up. Her instincts were telling her something was wrong. Her senses weren’t telling her why. With a snort, she turned around and continued on her way to the Rhino. The nagging feeling wasn’t going away and she could feel her shoulders knotting up.

Her phone rang as she was crossing the street and she dug it out of her pocket. It was Travis and Ronnie sighed around her cigar. The sun pounded on her bare skin like a hammer, making her wish she’d worn a shirt with sleeves. “Yeah?” she mumbled around her smoke after thumbing the ‘Talk’ button.

“Violet, where the hell are you?” Travis’s voice was querulous and Ronnie scowled. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“The Beast wouldn’t start,” Ronnie said, pulling out her cigar between sentences. “I took public transport.”

“You should have called me,” Travis told her. “I could have picked you up.”

“Right, you drive thirty minutes to my place and thirty back,” Ronnie said. “Doesn’t make sense, Trav.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to ride the bus,” Travis retorted. “Do you know what kind of diseases you can get from public transport?”

Ronnie found herself grinning. Maybe she was getting out of the house for more than just Travis’s sake; maybe she’d known he’d at least get her to smile. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“You do that, Plum. So what’s your ETA?”

“I’m out front,” she said, looking up against the glare of the setting sun to see the entrance for the strip club in front of her. “Almost to the door.” She waved at Dexter, the doorman. He grinned at her, showing his slightly oversized canines. He wasn’t a mutant; just a human guy who managed to be gifted with a bouncer’s physique and a naturally menacing smile.

“I’ll order you a beer,” Travis told her. Ronnie didn’t reply, because Dexter’s smile faltered and his eyes widened.

Ronnie spun, her cigar already dropping. She’d held onto her phone for a second because it was in her off hand and because if he was overreacting, she didn’t want to mess up her phone. But he wasn’t overreacting; a guy who was muscled like Schwarnegger was charging her. Ronnie had just enough time to shout “Fuck!” and drop her phone. Then his fist came around and clicked her teeth shut hard enough to make her world go grey. Ronnie slammed into the pavement, too far out of it to even hear Dexter shouting.

Click to reveal..
Attack vs Defense of 15Unarmed Strike +6 (1d20=18) = 24, crit threat

Critical confirmation +6 (1d20=10) – confirmed

Chooses to apply an Affliction (Dazing blow)

Toughness save vs DC 23 - Toughness Save +5 (1d20=8) = 13 failed by 2 degrees, -1 and dazed

Toughness vs DC 15 (+5) (1d20=1) = 6, failed by 2 degrees, stunned

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"Now girls, you know club policy on guests touching the dancers," Travis mock chided. The two thong clad girls sitting on either knee giggled in reply and Travis couldn't help but muster up a rather lecherous grin. "Ok but only this one ti-," he cut off abruptly as all three of them felt the other bulge in his pants begin to vibrate. One of the girls looked at the other and then at Travis with unmistakable lust, "Relax ladies, its a cell phone in my pocket, not that I'm not happy to see you." He attempted to fish the device out of his pocket but finally stopped, "Ok, my dears, everybody off Travis the Engine, gotta answer this."

The strippers reluctantly disembarked his legs, and spurred on by a fifty each wandered off in search of another male in need of company. Travis fished the phone out and opened the text message, Meow? -F, it read. Travis shook his head, Felicienne was almost more hot woman than he could handle; almost. He couldn't figure her out though, he'd get texts like this that would lead to sexual binges that sucked him dry, often literally, for a week. The rest of the time a could shoulder would be a step up. He shrugged and exited out of the text, he'd get back to her later, once Ronnie had once again turned him down.

"Speaking of Ronnie," he muttered looking at the time, and dialed her phone as he picked his way toward the bar. She answered, explained that her piece of junk car had failed her, proclaimed she rode the bus, of all things, and said she was at the door. "I’ll order you a beer," Travis told her.

There was a pause, barely a second and then, "Fuck!" before the sound of the phone hitting the sidewalk and a muffled floppy thud nearby the receiver. Travis was headed for the door in an instant, instinct overriding any amount of second guessing that may have occurred. Travis shouldered into the door out in time to see a steroidal flesh mound hit Dexter hard enough that the big bouncer went flying ten feet into the well to Travis' immediate right.

The lanky blonde scanned the area and saw Ronnie, laid out, though apparently still mostly conscious, a dozen feet in the other direction. "Hey, Roid-rage, why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" Travis asked, getting the nearly seven feet of muscle and knuckle's attention.

"YOU!" the fleshy brute spat upon seeing Travis.

"Me?" Travis asked innocently.

"YOU!!!" replied the erudite thug.

"Yes, me. Do I know you?" Travis quipped.

"Kill you!"

"You're welcome to try." Travis was circling the bald bear in boots and denim, moving away from Ronnie and Dexter both, "Wait, why?"

"You fucked my girl!"

"Oh please, take a number y-" Travis replied before being rudely interrupted by a honeydew sized fist hammering into his face. Travis rocked back, taking a step away from the muscle-bound man, "Umm ... ow? No. Nope, sorry, didn't hurt. Try again."

Click to reveal..
Max's attack roll

1d20+6=26

Crit +5 damage effect

Damage DC 28

Travis is immune, no save roll required

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Ronnie wasn’t sure why she wasn’t being pounded on more. If she had a victim down and out, she’d be separating their kidneys from their bodies with her boot. After another second of lying on her ass, the world wasn’t gray anymore – and she heard Travis’ voice.

"I can't imagine how I ever managed to get your girl - I mean, you're such a witty guy." There was the sound of skin making contact with skin again. "And so quick on the uptake! You must be a keeper."

Ronnie’s legs came up as her body crunch on itself. She threw herself to her feet with a powerful burst of strength, only to sway as she gained her feet. “Fuck,” she muttered as she squinted at the moving forms. Thugly was attacking Travis – not that Ronnie was particularly worried about Travis. She was pissed about him getting the drop on her and knocking her on her ass. She hated that shit; it made her feel helpless.

With a mere thought, her skin rippled as her mutant powers activated. Her skin thickened and hardened, making her less susceptible to damage. Bending down, she picked up a rock from the ornamental rock garden that graced the edge of the Rhino’s parking lot. She gave it a small toss to assess its balance, then hurled it at the back of the asshole’s head. It hit him in the skull with the sound of a rock bouncing off a wooden wall.

Snarling, the jerk twisted to look at her. “Come back and finish what you started, asshole!” Ronnie shouted at him.

Click to reveal..
Recovering from Stun at the end of the round: Toughness Save vs DC 15 (1d20=10) + 5 = Success.

Instant Up on next round

Activating ‘Choose Your Weapon’ + 3 to Fortitude, Protection 4, Sure Footed

Accurate Attack: shifting 4 points off the damage DC to the attack bonus (+8/22)

Attack vs DC 11 (+8 - ouch) (1d20=18) = 24 – Success

Max’s save vs DC 22: Toughness Save vs DC 22 (+6) (1d20=15) = 21, failed by 1, -1 on Toughness

Ronnie is at -1 Toughness

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The second blow had hit Travis squarely on the jaw. He absorbed all the kinetic force and grounded out it into the ground. Max's fist may as well have been hammering into the pavement beneath them. If the brute even noticed that fact it didn't show on his features. Travis merely smiled, he saw no need to treat this threat as credible, the guy could punch him all day and the best he might manage would be to raise a little color in Travis' cheeks.

Behind Max he saw Ronnie finally get up, and grab a rock, tossing it like a baseball at Max's head. It hit him squarely, and the steroidal moron spun, growling, as Ronnie taunted him, "Come back and finish what you started, asshole!"

"Uh-oh, looks like you got her mad. Better you than me though. Still ..." Travis muttered to himself and then made a gesture, a simple flick of on hand. An eye watering distortion twisted the air between Travis and Max as something slammed into the big man's back, pushing him forward, almost reeling, as he shook his head.

"Aw, honey, two on one ain't fair," Travis heard to his right. Turning, his eyes were greeted by the sight of a stunningly beautiful redheaded bombshell. For the barest moment a twinge of familiarity piqued his mind, but was lost as the woman drew in a sudden gasping breathe that did wonderful things to her ample bosom. "It's you!"

"Me? Yeah, I get that a lot lately," Travis replied, smirking.

"You said you'd call," Desiree screamed, "You bastard!" The words came out backed by the mutant's unnatural voice, a hammer strike of pure sound. Travis dodged aside as the energetic attack sliced through the air where he'd been standing a moment before. The concentrated sound waves hit the side of the building cracking brick, and turning mortar to powder.

Travis turned back toward the woman as he readied himself for an actual fight. The redhead had a crimson trickle from one nostril; blood marring the beauty of her face and telling the tale of the mutant virus. Travis also saw for the first time another woman, plainer, almost ugly by comparison to her gorgeous companion. Her short black hair, and punk-meets-goth clothing didn't do her any favors either. The second woman was moving purposefully toward Ronnie, a look of pure hatred in her eyes. "Some days," Travis muttered, shaking his head.

Click to reveal.. ("Combat")

Travis Attacking Max with a stunning attack:1d20+8=24 = hit

Max Fort vs DC 18: 1d20+6=14= 1 degree of failure, dazed

Travis' virus resistance vs DC 23: 1d20+8=24= pass

Des, sonic attack; 1d20+6=13 = miss!

Des' virus resistance, DC 21; 1d20+3=11, injured, -1 & dazed

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie

Travis

Des - injured (v) x1, dazed

Mag

Max - Injured x1, dazed (DC 18)

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Ronnie grinned as the thug was shoved toward her. This is what she was itching for – a good fight. Nothing would put her in a better mood than to ruin someone else’s day. And nothing ruined someone’s day like being put in traction. The icing on the cake was that he’d attacked her first, so Ronnie had no compunction about putting all kinds of hurt on him.

The woman joining the field of battle changed things a little. “Hey, Maggie,” Ronnie called out, “long time.”

“Too long; killing you has been on my to-do list for a while!” The woman drew back her arm and threw it forward.

Ronnie knew what was coming. She threw herself forward into a roll, dropping under the five-foot wide sheet of lightning that flowed from Magnetic’s hands. The wave passed over, ripping into the building across the street. Ronnie rolled to her feet – and nearly right into the brute’s fist. Only by buckling her knees did Ronnie avoid the fist that was coming at her face – and she’d had quite enough of that.

Ronnie surged out of the crouch she’d dropped into and slammed her fist into the thug’s face. Her fist hit his face with a satisfying thud that made her smile.

Click to reveal.. (Bad Guy’s rolls)
Click to reveal.. (Ronnie’s rolls)
Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie

Travis

Des - injured (v) x1,

Mag

Max - Injured x2

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Travis heard the smack of Ronnie's fist as it smacked into Max's ugly face. He spared a small smile as he assessed the hot chick with the killer voice, literally, and the goth chick who had just shot lightning out of her hands. "This just goes from bad to worse," Travis quipped to no one in particular. Whomever these three were the didn't seem too happy to see either of them. Travis barely had any idea why, other than possibly having had screwed the gorilla's woman, and apparently having banged a psychotic ginger.

He sighed and extended his hand. A handful of the rocks from the garden lifted off the ground and with a gesture sped toward the redhead with the force of fastball. His aim was off, too much power, not enough finesse, the stone sailed past the dazed woman who wiped the blood from her face and then screamed again, sending another blast of sound his way. Travis was already moving however, and the blast tore a furrow into the pavement behind him. More blood began to flow from the woman's nose, now dribbling from both nostrils.

Click to reveal.. (Rolls)

Travis power attack +2/-2 on a rank 4 blast

1d20+6=11 = miss

Des' attack roll:

1d20+2=8 = miss

Recovers from daze

Resists Virus: 1d20+3=14 = -1

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie

Travis

Des - injured (v) x2

Mag

Max - Injured x2

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Magnetic was going to stand back and pepper Ronnie with lightning. It’s what she did before and Ronnie knew that mutants, like most people, didn’t really change their styles. They got patterns that worked for them and never changed them – until they stopped working or it killed them. And Magnetic was doing what she always did: have someone go in close to keep the person occupied while she stood back and zatted away. Ronnie could try to take her newest thug out fast and close, or she could close and try to get Magnetic to go down.

Her plans were interrupted by another sizzling blast that she dodged, this time by dancing to the side. Magnetic had to try to get around Max, and she didn’t seem to be willing to sauté her buddy to get Ronnie. Guess you don’t want to get me that bad, bi-

Max’s fist was like a sledgehammer as it pounded into her stomach. It actually hurt, and Ronnie spared the ass a vicious glare. But that had made up her mind. Dancing around that asshole was keeping her from getting Magnetic out of the fight, which Ronnie wanted. Time to close with the ranged person.

A mere thought was all it took to thin her skin back to normal while making other changes to her body. Ronnie’s calves swelled with new muscle while most of her joints gained the ability to swing both ways. Add in a few extra vertebrae, and Ronnie was now crazy-limber and able to jump like a grasshopper.

She surged into the air, flipping over Max’s grabbing arms and Magnetic too. For a moment, it looked as though she’d missed – until she rebounded off the wall behind ‘Maggie’. Kicking off that wall allowed her to put all of her momentum behind the coming blow. Unfortunately, Magnetic jerked herself to the side and Ronnie’s descending foot smashed into the sidewalk. Cracks radiated out from the crater the purple haired mutant made in the concrete. The startled look on Magnetic’s face made her feel a little better. But not much.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)
Mag’s Ranged Attack +7 vs Dodge 17 (1d20=3) = 10, Failure

Max’s Close Attack vs Parry 15 (1d20=19) – Crit! Applies an Affliction

Ronnie’s Toughness vs DC 23 (+9) (1d20=11) = 20, Failure by 3

Ronnie's Fortitude save vs. Affliction 0 DC 10 (+11) (1d20=6) = 17, Success

Shifting to Jump 4, Agility +3

Ronnie’s Athletics +11 (1d20=1)

Hero point reroll (1d20=14) = 25

Ronnie’s Close Attack +5 vs Parry 12 (1d20=3) = 8, Failure

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - injured x1

Travis

Des - injured (v) x2

Mag

Max - Injured x2

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Three combatants to two was not good odds. Even taking into account Ronnie's incredible healing and Travis' invulnerability to conventional attacks. Once the fact that two of their attackers were using attacks that could cripple Travis and things were looking decidedly bad.

"OK honey, I'm through playing nice." Travis quickly gathered some of the nearby rubble into a whirling screen that physically separated him from the woman. With a gesture he launched two hunks at nearly super sonic speed at the woman. The twin missiles hit their target but were slowed and buffered by a nearly invisible wall of sound waves cascading around the redhead. By the time the improvised weapons hit her they had only enough force to bludgeon.

Travis barely noticed, the sudden pounding in his head, and the blood leaking from his nose were signs that he was pushing himself too hard. The virus would finish what the women started, and he'd not rebound from it quickly. He barely had time to wipe at the blood with the back of his hand before the woman unleashed a crescendo of sound that had Travis' head spinning like he's come off a carnival ride. He stumbled, his normal grace and physical dexterity stripped away as vertigo pun the world around him like a top.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)

Travis activates Shield for a free action at rank 4, using debris to help intercept incoming attacks

Travis attacks Des with a TK blast at rank 8 vs Dodge DC 12: 1d20+8=14 = hit!

Des' Toughness +9 -2 vs DC 23: 1d20+9=22 = fail by 1 degree, -1

Travis uses Extra Effort to surge and makes a second attack at Des: 1d20+8=10, HP to re-roll: 1d20+8=17 = HIT!

Des' Toughness +6 vs DC 23: 1d20+6=20 = fail by 1 degree

Travis Saves vs DC 23 Virus x2: 1d20+8=10, 1d20+8=24 Passes one, fails by 3 degrees on the second, Staggered

Des' attack's Travis again with a sonic weaken (agl): 1d20+4=22 = hit

Travis' Fort vs DC 16: 1d20+8=9 = loses 7 pp from AGL, -3 ranks

Des' virus resistance vs Dc 21: 1d20+3=21 pass

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - injured x1

Travis - Staggered (v), Injured (v) x1, -7 pp from AGL, fatigued

Des - injured (v) x2, injured x2

Mag

Max - Injured x2

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Ronnie didn’t notice Travis’ predicament, but she was coming to the same conclusion. Three on two was a losing battle. Fortunately, she knew just the thing.

Then Magnetic grabbed her arm and sent volts of electricity through her. For a second, Ronnie’s world was pain and shorting nerves; then the terrible ordeal was done. She gasped for air, aware that Max was charging to join them, trying to close with her again. Then it would be two on one and Ronnie didn’t have much hope of winning that game.

She reached out and caught the troublesome bitch who’d decided to ruin her day by the back of her neck. “I didn’t kill Paulo, you emo bitch!” She lifted the woman with one hand, wound up and tossed. “Garbino did!”

She wasn’t sure that Maggie heard her; she was already a small dot in the sky. “Travis, we should g- Fuck!” She had turned to tell Travis to run, only to realize he wasn’t going anywhere without help.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)
Ronnie’s Perception check to notice Travis is in trouble DC 15 (+2)(1d20=11) – Not good enough.

Shifts to Protection 4, +3 Fortitude

Magnetic’s Close Attack (+6) vs DC 15 (1d20=9) = 15, Success

Ronnie’s Toughness save vs DC 21 (+8) (1d20=7) = 16, failure by 2 degrees, Injured x2, Dazed

Max is moving toward them.

Ronnie’s Grab (+5) vs DC 12 (1d20=14) = 19, Success.

Ronnie's Str check +11 (1d20=16) = 26

Dodge check (+2), DC 26 (1d20=14) = 16, Ronnie wins.

Throwing distance is 11 – 2 = 9 = 2 miles.

Magnetic goes for a flight.

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")

Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - injured x2, Dazed

Travis - Staggered (v), Injured (v) x1, -7 pp from AGL, fatigued

Des - injured (v) x2, injured x2

Mag – having her in-flight meal of bugs

Max - Injured x2

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Travis grunted, then coughed, a wad of bloody streaked phlegm sailed past his lips as he spat. Not good. The hot chick was making his head spin like a night with too much tequila and Ronnie was yelling something, she was always yelling at him. Not my fault. Just trying to find who I am. He looked up at the redhead, "Shut up." The blast of raw force caught her on the shoulder, spun her around, made he wobble. Not good enough. She'll tear you apart. He coughed again, more blood flying from his lips.

The sonic blast that Desiree unleashed missed Travis however, skewing wide and blasting the doors of the club into glass powder and twisted metal. The two bouncers who'd been coming out feel back, shielding their faces from the exploding glass. The scream broke up into a hacking cough, as blood flecked spittle escaped her own lips, the mutants virus taking it's toll on Desiree as it had on Travis.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)
Stun blast, rank 8: 1d20+8=24 = hit!

V resist DV 23: 1d20+8=21 = fail by 1 degree

Des resist stun DC 18: 1d20+3=14 = fail by 1 degree, dazed

Des' attack roll, rank 6: 1d20+2=11 = miss!

Des' V resist dc 21: 1d20+3=13 = fail by 2 degrees

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")
Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - injured x2, Dazed

Travis - Staggered (v), Injured (v) x2, -6 pp from AGL, fatigued

Des - injured (v) x3, injured x2, dazed

Mag – having her in-flight meal of bugs

Max - Injured x2

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Max arrived as Magnetic disappeared. “Bitch!” he roared, punching at Ronnie. The blow caught her in the gut – again – doubling the tall woman over – again. She’d just recovered from the last blow he’d given her and found herself snarling in reply. Normally, she’d stick it out to take this fucker out but she didn’t have time to mess around, not with Travis in trouble.

She’d left him to die once. Never again.

Another alteration to her body, as fast as thought. Her muscles reshaped themselves, her calves thickening again as her body seemed to smooth and thin itself. She felt a twinge of pain and knew she’d pushed herself, but so far she seemed alright. She moved –

And was standing next to Travis, who had been nearly fifty feet from her. She stopped and faced the redheaded bimbo, baring her teeth. “Enough! The sex couldn’t have been that good!”

Click to reveal.. (Combat)
Jim told me I’m going the Regen wrong; at the end of Ronnie’s last round, she had two conditions remove, Dazed and an Injured. I’m making note that they were removed and the previous Damage notes are incorrect.

Max’s Close Attack +6 vs Parry 15 (1d20=14) = 20, success

Ronnie’s Toughness check (+9) vs DC 23 (1d20=2) = 13, Failure by two degrees, Injured x1, Dazed

Shifting to “GTFO” form: +4 Protection, Leaping 4, Speed 4, Fortitude +3 (requires all 4 ranks of Variable, Virus check)

Ronnie’s Virus check (Fortitude +11) DC 17 (1d20=8) = 19, success

Dazed, so only a move action.

Regens 1 injured and 1 Dazed at the end of her turn

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")
Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - Injured x2, Dazed

Travis - Staggered (v), Injured (v) x2, -6 pp from AGL, fatigued

Des - injured (v) x3, injured x2, dazed

Mag – having her in-flight meal of bugs

Max - Injured x2

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Travis put his hand on Ronnie's shoulder, steadying himself, and holding himself a little more upright, "You should try me and find out. You might be surprised. Then again, she could just be psychotic." He laughed, but it turned into a wet cough that leaked more crimson from his mouth.

Max was already turning toward them, and the redhead, She really is quiet stunning, and a little crazy goes a long way in bed ..., was shaking off his last attack already. One of them had to go, and being that Max could wail on him for weeks and not even give him a nosebleed Travis knew whom it would be.

He reached out with his free hand, and as he did the debris fell away, hitting the ground like abandoned toys. Desiree suddenly gasped as she was lifted into the air. With a grin he quipped, "It's not a one night stand if I call you back hon, have a nice trip." With a gesture Desiree went sailing down the block a good couple hundred feet, landing in a painful heap that would hopefully discourage her from returning. Travis felt tired, had he not been pushing himself so hard already he could have sent Desiree further, but he was already pushing himself too hard. Burning himself out over a scuffle with flunkies.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)

Travis is using pure TK to grab Desiree. No roll needed (perception range).

Grapple rolls:

Travis:1d20+5=9

Des: 1d20+2=7

Travis (barely) grapples Des ... and tosses her down the street like a monkey flings poo. Travis' active TK Rank is 5, Desiree's Mass rank is 2 (between 100-200 pounds). The throw's distance rank is 5 - 2 = 3 = 250 ft. Bye bye!

Click to reveal.. ("Order of battle")
Init:

Ronnie - 17 (D7)

Travis - 17 (D6)

Des - 11 (Awe 4)

Mag - 11 (Awe 1)

Max - 2

Click to reveal.. ("Damage")

Ronnie - Injured x2, Dazed

Travis - Staggered (v), Injured (v) x2, -5 pp from AGL, fatigued

Des - injured (v) x3, injured x2, dazed, down the block hopefully not intent on coming back

Mag – having her in-flight meal of bugs

Max - Injured x2

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Max had slowed his charge toward them, apparently having the same thoughts about being outnumbered as they had just had; Ronnie spared him a single glance before turning around. "Sorry," she told Travis, "I know you hate this." Before the ladies-man could ask what she meant, she'd picked him up like a baby. Her knees bent and then Ronnie was jumping.

Her jump earlier had been playing around. The sixty-foot standing jump had been only a hint of what she could do. This time, she was clearing small buildings. Her first series of hops took her half-way across town while Travis hung on and tried not to do or whimper anything too unmanly. She turned brought partway back, but at a wide angle. Travis knew where she was headed: his condo.

She landed on his balcony, setting him down and letting him unlock the door. "Well, that was fun," she growled as she followed him into his place. Without him asking, Ronnie went to his bathroom, getting out some of the medicine all mutants kept around. Nothing stopped the virus, but most mutants kept over the counter drugs to deal with the symptoms. In most cases, that was all you could do. "So, do you need 'snuffly, sneezey, achy' or 'coughy, weezey, achy'?" she asked, holding up two different boxes.

Click to reveal.. (Combat)
Max is just moving.

Ronnie uses Jump 4 to get away.

Combat is over.

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The vertigo faded quickly, half a minute at most, and was gone by the time they got to Travis' condo. He stood steady and pulled his keys out letting them into the stylishly appointed living room. For his part Travis felt like he'd been hit with the flu, he ached in places that hadn't hurt at all mere minutes before, his head swam, and he occasionally coughed, bringing more blood up. He collapsed onto his couch and used a tissue to step the slowly oozing blood from his nose.

"So, do you need 'snuffly, sneezey, achy' or 'coughy, weezey, achy'?" Ronnie asked, returning from the bathroom, a box of cold & flu medicine in either hand.

"How about moaning, groaning, climaxing?" He looked her way, she didn't even react, and he had to admit it wasn't even a very good attempt on his part. "The second one," he replied, then caught the tossed box with an iota of power, allowing it to hang in mid-air while he got up to locate some water, or maybe a beer.

After a few minutes he lay on the couch, the bleeding largely stemmed, and sipped water from a glass. "So," he began, drawing the word out, "what was that all about? Friends of yours?" Ronnie grimaced. "They were nice," Travis added, "shame that the girls had to leave so abruptly though..."

Click to reveal..
Travis remains Staggered and Injured x2 from the virus, as well as being fatigued. Nothing a decent night's sleep and rest can't cure.
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Ronnie came back from his bathroom via a detour through the kitchen to grab a beer. Unlike him, she was fine, all of her weariness and pain gone. To celebrate, she'd stolen a beer from him - not that he wouldn't return the favor when he came over to her place. She sat down on his coffee table, a habit that she knew annoyed him but also knew he'd ignore rather than say anything about.

She'd just fished a cigar out of her hip pocket when Travis asked his question. "Not long after you were... gone," she started, patting her other thigh pouch for a lighter, "I was to infiltrate a homebrew screaming weenies group." Travis nodded as he caught the lingo: she was talking about a domestic mutant 'terrorist' group. They were called screaming weenies because it was usually a bunch of Class I's and II's getting together to whine about the state of things. They almost never went past that.

"Lemme guess... they weren't weenies."

"Nope," Ronnie said, pausing to light her cigar. Travis floated an ashtray over beside her, earning a grunt of thanks. "They were the real deal, a clear and present danger. Some Threes and Fours that wanted to lash out at the US.

"I was about to slip back out and report when one of them cracked my cover. His name was Paulo, he was a cyberkenetic and he'd dug up information on me. He found out that my cover was fabricated." Ronnie's eyes were distant as she spoke, trying to hide the emotions she was feeling. It'd been a hard mission; her first after Travis' 'death' and one in which she'd connected with her targets. It hadn't been good, and with an effort, she shook off the emotions. "He confronted me, we started to fight. Garbino walked in, saw us fighting and decided to side with me. He hit Paulo too hard. Paulo was kinda of scrawny and Garb wasn't - any hit was probably too hard." Ronnie drew on the cigar, thinking she was cloaking her emotions but telegraphing them to her old friend. "I needed out so I pretended to freak out. Garb told me to go lie low until he called me to come back, that he'd take care of it. He never called; I assumed that he learned I was an operative. Guess he said I killed Paulo. I was already a traitor, why not a murderer too?"

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"Don't feel guilty," Travis murmured, "you didn't kill the punk. Besides, he was a bad apple right?" He peered over at her, "That's what you do right? Did. Us. Whatever. We stopped the bad guys? Kicked their asses before they kicked back?" The questions were rhetorical, less questions and more conversational statements.

"I mean you think that those idiots would have felt bad killing you? Me? Dexter? Shit, I wonder if he's ok?" Travis' head thumped down into the pillow behind it as Ronnie looked at him oddly. That was the kind of question he;d have asked before. Travis wouldn't have spared a thought for collateral damage like Dexter.

"Well?" he squawked, breaking her thoughts, "What's eating you? Or are you just worried about where lightening lass is going to land?" Travis sat up, rubbing at his face, "I'd say this isn't like you ... if I knew that was the case. If it isn't," he paused and looked over at her, "we could fuck to take your mind off it."

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Ronnie stared at him. She wasn't used to this from Travis. He'd never thought about others; he'd been considerate of her and whatever woman he was going after, but other people never seemed to matter. And he'd never asked about her feelings, not like this.

"Uh," she said, wondering how she could tell him what was 'eating her'. Garb had come to her defense for a reason; he'd been sweet on her and had been a good distraction for losing Travis. It had been the only time she'd let a mission become personal. She'd almost let it become really personal; she'd been, at least one time, a heartbeat away from sleeping with Garb when they'd been interrupted. Only the knowledge that she would be using him as a roughly Travis-shaped comfort had stopped her from making a mistake.

She'd still let her heart get entangled, a little. It hadn't been hard. She was a mutant; she'd seen the same things they railed against. She'd been persecuted, too. They'd been smart - vicious, but smart - and their call to arms had been seductive. She'd dealt with that before, but with Garb's extra attentions, it'd gone a bit further.

Ronnie had no idea how to tell Travis had his loss had hurt her so badly she'd nearly blown a mission over it, or tell him that she'd nearly slept with a terrorist because it would be a comfort. This just wasn't stuff they talked about, at all. So she grinned, blew out a perfect ring of smoke and said, "Video game would do the same thing, and last longer."

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Travis laughed which quickly broke into a wet cough once again. "Damnit. Fuck, Vi, I've seen how you play video games, we both know you're full of shit." He let it drop though, no point in poking at it, she got all closemouthed about all kinds of stuff, and didn't budge under any prior attempts. "Still feel like shit though. Saving your ass no less. How many times is this?"

"Very funny," Ronnie stuck out her tongue.

"I'm serious," he said defensively, "you never tell me anything. I got a head full of holes and you won't even tell me how many times I saved your butt?"

"Nine," she answered, exasperated.

"Nine? Seriously? That's it?"

"If your count is higher, feel free to correct me," came the retort.

"Touché." Travis rose, and sighed, "There's goes another shirt. I don't even know where I bought these things to replace them." He slung his coat over a nearby chair and moved toward the kitchen. "I'm making soup. You want any?" He looked back and saw her questioning expression, "I've got a cold. Coughy, weezey, an' achy, remember?" Ronnie laughed and Travis just shook his head as he opened a cupboard entirely filled with cans of chicken noodle soup.

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"Actually," Ronnie said suddenly, standing with the ashtray and cigar in hand. "Lemme make the soup." At Travis' look, she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, I might not be Emeril, but I can fuckin' open a can and heat up the contents." Standing up, she walked into his kitchen, setting the ashtray and cigar on the counter. Taking him by the shoulders, she firmly steered him toward the bedroom. "Go change into your pee-jays. I'll bring you some hot soup in bed."

"Gee, Mom, I don't know what to say," Travis smirked.

"You're supposed to say 'thank you'," Ronnie mock-snapped. "Now get your ass to bed, young man!" She emphasized her order with a quick slap on said ass, not pulling her punch. Travis could take a bit of slap and tease. Grinning unrepentantly, she crossed her arms and waited for the sexual come-on.

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Travis rolled his eyes, "That didn't hurt, you're gonna have to try a lot harder." He shuffled off to his bedroom, shedding clothes as he went. His jacket managed to make it onto a chair back, but most landed on the floor. Ronnie heated as she realized that Travis probably slept naked, and she'd just told him to get into bed no less. "I'm ready to be tucked in!" he called from the other room making her turn redder, thankful he couldn't see her.

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Ronnie managed to mumble, "And what if I didn't want to hurt ya, huh?" She kept it soft enough that her partner wouldn't hear; no point in giving him more fuel. Suddenly, Ronnie realized that she still thought of herself as his partner, even through he wasn't with UNISON anymore. Chuckling to herself over her ingrained habits, she quietly stirred the soup.

It was thoughts of her present situation that kept her occupied as the soup finished heating. It took a couple of tries, but Ronnie located the cabinet with his bowls and a cookie sheet. Using a towel as a hot pad, she made a make-shift lap tray and headed for the bedroom.

Travis was in bed, his back against a wall of pillows with his hands tucked behind his head. His covers were pulled up to his waist and Ronnie tried not to peek. "There," she announced, putting the tray on his lap. "Hot soup. What else?"

"An open offer? Well, I could use a Vicks rub," Travis said, glancing down at his chest.

Ronnie went and got the vapor rub. Travis' smile was only a touch rueful as she put the container on the tray. She went and fetched her beer and cigar, settling in on the corner of his bed. "You still wanna hear about our third mission?" she asked. It had been the entire reason that they'd been getting together today.

"Sure," Travis said, already applying his spoon to his soup. "Tell me a bedtime story, Mom."

Ronnie stuck her tongue out at him, but launched into the story anyway. It took a while, and Travis had set his tray on the floor - revealing enough of his hip for Ronnie to see he wasn't wearing anything - before she was done. He was also yawning before she stopped. "Go to sleep," Ronnie told him gently.

"I'm gonna. You gonna stay and creepily watch me sleep?" he asked with his grin. Ronnie studied him for a moment; it was clear from his expression that he was just teasing her, without an understanding of her feelings - as usual.

"Figured a friend would stay until they were sure you were resting," Ronnie told him casually, grinding out her second cigar.

"You are a good friend," Travis said sleepily. "I'll deny I ever said such a sappy thing," he added in a tired murmur.

"I know." Ronnie fell silent as she watched him sink into slumber. Once she was sure he was asleep, she took the tray into the kitchen and kicked his clothes into a pile by the closet. She started to leave the room, only to give into temptation and place a feather-light kiss on his temple. She immediately regretted her sissy sentiment and was scowling as she went back out into the main area. Ronnie rinsed the dishes for him, emptied the ashtray and threw out her empty beer.

At his door she paused, remembering what she'd forgotten to tell him. "Crap," she muttered and dug out a scrap of paper. She scrawled a quick note telling him she'd be out of town for a few days and she'd call when she came back.

The purple-haired mutant had just secured the paper under his ashtray when his cell phone buzzed. Ronnie didn't mean to look; it was just instinctive glance at the screen. Meow already! -F glared at her from the lit screen, stabbing her right in the heart. He'd had plans for later this evening, she immediately surmised, after their talk. Probably with some bimbo he'd fuck stupid. Now she was glad she was going to be out of town. She wouldn't have to hear the conquest story.

Ronnie collected moments like these - those times when something reminded her of the man Travis was. She gathered them for her reason to use when Travis had nearly breached her heart. They reminded her that no matter how much she liked him, he was who he was, and she couldn't change that. Silently, she added this one to wall around her heart and let herself out of the apartment.

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