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Paola Castillo the Crook, bearing the battle name of Zapper.  ("It's just a placeholder until I find something better! And look, most of my inventions are electrically powered, that's close enough to a theme for now. I have other priorities." Look Woman, Hispanic, casual clothing, utilitarian costume. The "costume" is actually a set of unobtrusive dark clothes, a domino mask and a 10$ utility belt containing her portable inventions. She's not very good at the flashiest parts of the profession. Abilities -Gadgets and traps, not quite as physics defying as the work of a true mad scientist, but plenty good to short-circuit cameras or taze policemen. -Burglary and theft, learned the hard way during her first solo robberies and heists. If it wasn't for her inventions she would have been thrown in jail at her first job. Assets -A workshop. It's actually an old warehouse filled with materials raided at a junkyard and second-hand machines bought with her savings from an hardware store, but with her know-how and enouh car batteries she can put together plenty of decently powerful material. -A fence. Joan Alden, an old friend of Paola's, ows a shady pawn shop in the neighborhood. She asks no inopportune questions, gives her a fair(er) price and has an hidden stash of valuable odds and ends that no cop has ever managed to find. Moment of Triumph You’re about to make the score of your life. There is no obstacle that you can’t bypass, there’s no wall you can’t scale. You make out like a bandit. Everything is within your grasp, just take, take, take, and take some more. The more ridiculous the better here. You need to keep piling it on… because eventually that’s the point where the MC will call it, because it’s your being laden with all that stuff that will expose you once more. Plan Moves When you meddle in the plots of others… ask them if they can help you get what you want. If they say yes, give them Influence over you and clear a condition. If they say no, mark a condition and Curses! When others meddle in your plots… decide whether you slack off or focus. If you focus and get it done as a team, add Plan to the pool. If you slack off together and ease off, they can choose to give you Influence over them to clear one of their conditions. When you stop to gloat about your master plan… explain how after the score you’re going to fulfill one of your desires with your ill-gotten reward. Roll +Plan. On a hit, cross off the Want described as if fulfilled, as you flash forward to your fantasy. On 7-9, you are distracted; choose one: mark a condition; spend a Plan; the person you are gloating to escapes or gets an advantage. Curses! 0/5 Labels: Freak: -3 -2 -1 0 +1 +2 +3 Danger: -3 -2 -1 0 +1 +2 +3 Trouble: -3 -2 -1 0 +1 +2 +3 Superior: -3 -2 -1 0 +1 +2 +3 Menace: -3 -2 -1 0 +1 +2 +3 Crook Moves Bag of Tricks You’re never content to be predictable in your line of work, and constantly stealing new experimental technology and equipment that complement your particular skillset. Whenever you steal some new kit, you can write it down as a new ability if this line is empty. ______________________ 0/3 Treat the new piece of kit as any other ability. Whenever you use the kit in a cunning and risky way, roll +Trouble instead of +Freak to unleash your powers with it. When the third box is checked, the kit is broken, lost, or recovered from those you stole it from, and you can erase it from the line Eyes on the Prize When executing a plan, hold 1 (up to 3). Spend your hold to take +1 for 1 when seizing victory, and/or to abscond from the final action scene. Wants Steal from someone you know you shouldn’t (possibly Dr. Crawford) Pull off a ridiculous stunt Get a new villain name Get a new costume Backstory What got you into your life of crime? I didn't set out to be a thief, you know? I was good, so good that I skipped like two years, so good that my grades managed to get me into a good college, where I studied advanced electrodynamic theory... I wanted to be an invetor and gadget designer, you know. Except that the scientific world hates young people, loathes women and isn't especially fond of Hispanics, either. So all I got was an endless parade of closed doors and "don't call us, we'll call you"s. Of course, I didn't quite realize that was the reason at the time, and the frustation was eating me alive. All my dreams of fame and wealth were slipping through my fingers, after all the studying I had done. But then here comes Dr. Crawford. He really does call me back. He works for Phalanx Incorporated, a cutting edge design technology company, specializing in alterante energy sources. He said he was impressed with my resume, especially the inventions I had plans for. He actually hired me! Well, he let me in for a probationary period of time to see if I was as good as I advertised. And I was! What followed was a brief period of bliss as I worked in the advanced Phalanx labs, helping Crawford and learning from him, confronting our notes and working on his inventions. He promised me that my Micro Generator would be sold in stores just after I was finished with the probationary period! Which of course, happened... right after he threw me out because I was "inefficient" at the end of the period and got all the credit for my MG. Because I was never formally hired, the data for it was never saved under my name anywhere and all I could do was watch the old bastard get rich with the grant money that was supposed to be MINE. So here I am now. If the honest way got me hosed over, I will go for the dishonest way. A terrorized banker doesn't care if who points the gun at him has brown or white skin. And I deserve it more than him anyway. How did you gain your particular set of skills? My gadgets are all made by me, a combination of pure cerebral brute force and nights after nights spent studying the most advanced theories about electrons and neutrinos. Most are powered by my Mini Generators, which gives them much more power than you'd think such a small device could hold. My personal favorite is the Overloader, which overcharges electrical networks, frying alarm systems like they're not even there. As for my more... furtive talents, I had to develop those the hard way: through practice. They are not the easiest skills to train, and if it wasn't for my invetions I probably would have been caught in my first solo robberies and heists. But practice makes perfect, and now I can sneak, climb and lockpick with the best of them. Who, outside your peers, thinks you just a two-bit thief? Well, there was this one time when I was robbing an electronics recycling store for parts and materials (those places are great for this, they have everything!) and while I was sure that I had overcharged the alarm, less than an hour since I got there this guy with a top hat with gears on it and aviator goggles flies in (I think he had a jetpack? It was hard to tell with all the bolts and gears he had all over his outfit) and shouts me to drop my "ill-gotten gains". We had a brief fight in there, but the noise was getting too much attention so I had to bail without the loot. I did get one good tazer hit in just as I was leaving, and as I run I hear him saying "Ah! I shall return those wonders of science that you stole to their legitimate owners, ye wench! So swears the Wonder Worker!" He just assumed that I had stolen them, the prick! And who wears gears on a damned top hat, anyway? Why do you try to be a villain? I tried, I honest to God tried to be an honest person. But I always knew that I deserved better, and I proved that a thousand times over with my work and with my study. I am not asking unreasonable things: that my work is admired for the greatness that it is (and it is, just ask that fat cat Crawford about it) and that I am given what I am owed for what I can contribute to society. If that is not given to me willingly, I will take it by force, or even better by guile. My patience has been over for a while now. Why do you suffer the others? As stupid as they are (and believe you me, they are pretty darn stupid) there are things that even I can't do, at least not without stretching my resources so much, devoting so many gadgets to cover so many roles tat it becomes impractical. If the pie is big enough, sharing it with others is still better than a smaller pie to eat on my own. Plus, I could learn something from them. Different perspectives and all that. It's fascinating what sort of people are interested in the life of crime, isn't it? Tricky Dick Nixon posted:The Disembodied Duo: "Hem. Well, the name, and the costume, could use a little sprucing up, don't you think, Mr. Mind? Its not like you have the same, well, je ne c'est quoi that some villains possess by their very nature. But ah! Dr. Heart knows to not judge a specimen by its epidermis! Perhaps there is something you can show us, some distinction that will serve you better, in your work if not your... personal style, yes?" She then gets a small device from her utility belt. It's shaped like a telephone with an abnormally horizontally extended screen. After some fiddling with levers and buttons, a series of shouts of surprises and a diffuse crackling are heard, as a number of cellphones owned from teens all over the room shoot sparks and fry their motherboard, in one case causing a small explosion. "This is my Overcharger, sirs." Paola shows off her invention, a gleam of pride illuminating her eyes. "I have broken down anything from cars to computers with this. There is so much dependency on powered technology in this day and age, the possibility of breaking it down is just too big an advantage to pass up." Requests from the first post: Villainous monologue Why you? Well, there are the obvious reasons: you are well-off enough to be an appreciable target for a thief such as myself, but not so rich that you may adequately defend yourself and your earnings from the likes of me. Your bodyguard in particular was a pushover, by the by. Hope he didn't cost you too much. But yes, there is another reason I decided to rob you in particular is that I am the type that holds a grudge. Remember that young inventor who wanted a research grant to produce an optimized model of taser? And you barely listened to her and just looked at her luridly? ...no, of course you don't. Shut up, I can see that you don't, you took like three seconds to answer. Well, since you clearly were not impressed by it surely you have nothing against a getting tagged by my taser, do you? Since it's clearly too ineffective to be worthy of your filthy money? BZZZZZT! Thought so. Insults. Gosh, it must really be nice to be you, isn't it? You have enough time on your hands to faff around, writing down how whole nations, whole worlds work, all in your silly little head for your silly little games, and populate them with a bunch of imaginary characters, like a grown man still playing with his puppets. By all means, continue your little tea party and don't let us boring adults get in the way of your fun time. dont listen to her tricky i <3 you Untrustworthy comic cover We are in the interior of a bank. A sign helpfully points out that we are in the USA Washington Mint. Zapper is holding her taser and menacing a bureaucrat with it. The latter trembles, as he holds a light match in front of an enormous pile of dollars, that occupies half the page. "Get ON with it, you fool! DESTROY the national reserves of CASH and COLLAPSE this cruel ECONOMY! ONLY THEN shall my REVENGE be COMPLETE!" A DASTARDLY PLOT TO BRING THE AMERICAN DREAM TO ITS KNEES! A PAST HAUNTED BY TRAGEDY AND MISFORTUNE! JUST WHO IS THIS MYSTERIOUS...ZAPPER?!? Questions from MurderDome Who are you? Paola stands straight and looks her interlocutor straight in the eyes, or equivalent facial feature. "My name is Paola Castillo, sir/madam. I am a burglar, a second-story woman, a robber, but most importantly I am an inventor. My momentary alias is Zapper, but it is merely a placeholder. What can the Association do for you? "Up until now, I have had to make do with a woefully underequipped workshop. I could do so much more, and so much better, had I access to better materials and tools. Junkyard raids and stolen car batteries only get you so far. I would appreciate an upgrade." she removes her glasses and polishes them. She hopes this communicates more confidence than she actually feels right now. "Failing that, I wouldn't mind some info on some worthy targets. After striking those, I could buy some better equipment myself." She laughs for half a second. She hopes the villain she's talking to reacts well to some measured humor. What can you do for the Association? "I am a woman of many talents. I can destroy security, sneak into buidlings, retrieve anything that can at all be retrieved. Should you need some more delicate work to be done, the kind you wouldn't trust to a two-bit thief, placing hidden cameras, stealing or installing evidence, things like that, me and my invetions can provide. Those nice little things, by the way, can elevate, sap, stun, destroy and most of anything in between. They really are quite flexible." A large grin makes its way through her face, hopefully a good combination of friendly and predatory. "Just like me." paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 23:37 on May 18, 2016 |
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May 17, 2016 20:44
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 Paola doesn't have superpowers, like most of the other wannabe villains in the room with her. But she does have her grappling hook in one hand, and her tazer in the other, for now in short distance mode; it can be switched to long distance mode, so that the head detaches and flies towards the target, by flicking a switch. She doesn't know what to expect from the Chamber, so she brought a bit of everything from her gadget armory: her trusty Overcharger, capable of increasing the energy intensity of any powered object, from a cellphone to a car, to the breaking point; a couple of smoke bombs; Mini-Generator powered drill, pneumatic wrench and electric saw, for quick and dirty repair work or sabotage; rope, which it really sucks to be without when you need it, and a couple of other odds and ends. As they wait for the Freak Chamber to get ready, the boy next to her, a tall, gangly youth in a yellow and black jumpsuit with bike goggles, is fiddling with a scanner of some kind. He furrows his brow and takes a skeptical look at Paola. "I thought you were supposed to be a normie?" Paola barely deigns to hold her disdain. "I assume you mean someone with no superpowers? Yes, I don't have any. Very observant of you." "Listen lady, you can't be a normie if you've got ma-" The siren signaling the beginning of the exercive begin. Jumpsuit Boy is interrupted; the brief conversation is pushed outside of Paola's mind as she prepares for the test. quote:That's right, Paola's gadgets are the product of mad science or hypertech, although not quite as obviously physics-defying as other mad scientists' creations. This would mean, amongst other things, that they cannot be reproduced by human hands. But if that's the case, how did Crawford manage to mass produce her Mini-Generators? Roll out of the way of the holographic speeding car. Overload the thresher machine with all the spinning blades right when some other amateurs think they are outside of its range, so the exlposion sends the blades flying at them. Kick in the knees the zombie that you're pretty sure is real. Grappling hook yourself out of the suddenly quicksand-like pavement by grabbing onto the big guy who looks like an hippo. Paola is focused, concentrated, and intent on showing off as many of her inventions as possible, to show the Disembodied Duo just what is she capable of. And yet she never sees it coming. quote:Freak Chamber Test: 2d6-1 2. Ouch.  The Dervish jumps in the air with a battle cry, his speed exceding that of the most well-trained unpowered human. Paola barely manages to get out of the way, scrambling away from the woman's swords as they hit the floor behind her with a CLANG. The impact causes her opponent's cape, stylish and decorated, to flutter about; it somehow does not get caught in the costantly raising and lowering platforms that litter the Danger Room since the match started. Maybe it's another superpower. The Dervish takes a moment to find her balance again, but the inventor does not trust herself to reach her in time without risking stumbling and exposing herself to a counterattack. This cannot go on. Sooner or later she'll get lucky and land an hit, and then I'll be cut to ribbons. She waits for her opponent's next move; and as the acrobat warrior kicks against a rising tile to propel herself towards her, the Zapper throws down a smoke bomb and only then sidesteps her, careful to mantain her balance. With a little luck, between the smoke and the jump she won't see in what direction I've dodged, which should allow me to tase her good.. quote:Danger Room Test: 2d6 4  "C'mon, normie! We can't slow down for your sake, you know!" They are not, of course, slowing down for her sake. No self-respecting group of future villains would deign themselves to wait for someone that seriously fell behind. She just happens to be slowest runner in her team. She's never been great at PE, and falling into that pit hidden by an hologram made her lose precious moments; everyone else took heed of her fall and jumped the pit without breaking a sweat, naturally. The Trouble Run (or is it Trouble Track? Paola has heard it called both ways) now consists of ever narrowing bridges, one for each team. Stinger, the guy with the bike glasses and the jumpsuit, is leading her team, both in the literal sense and in the shout-insipid-instructions-that-doesn't-help-anybody sense. The bridge has gotten narrow enough that they have to walk two by two when they see it and for the first time stop to consider their approach. A towering metallic tree with six rotating sections, each with its own horizontal branches swatting away at any villain foolish enough make its way on the narrow walkway surrounding its trunk. The branches thin out as one went upwards: it's clear that they are expected to climb and acrobatically make their way through the upper sections. The variations in speed and direction from one section of the obstacle to another make this a daunting task. No one wanted to be the first to try and dodge its way to the rest of the track. "Alright everyone" says Stinger, turning around to look at his so-called team. "We need to-" He is interrupted as someone pushes her way to the head of the group. It's Zapper. "Ah! The normie thinks she can dance around this one no problem, eh?" laughs the horrible little man, with a nasal and unpleasant laugh. "Be my guest!" Zapper says nothing. She gets out her Overcharger and fiddles with the levers and buttons a bit. For a second, the obstacle seems to rotate even more, before making a buzzing sound, billowing some smoke and coming to an halt. Paola grins and starts traversing the walkway as the rest of the team follows her with an excited cheer. Stinger is so surprised it takes him a couple of seconds to join the group. Now all they have to do is duck under the higher branches and walk over the lower ones. With the machine immobile this is no great task. Paola is the first to make it through, and actually waits for the rest of the group. When Stinger is about to cross, however, she pushes a button and the machine comes to life again, hitting the jumpsuit clad teen straight in the jaw. The inventor's grin widens as she resumes her run. There is still plenty of Trouble Track to traverse, but Stinger won't be joining her for some time, and they certainly can't slow down for his sake. Trouble Run Test: 2d6+2 5  Seats, desks, tests: this is all familiar territory Trouble Run Test: 2d6+2 5for Paola. Sure, the subjects are really, really odd and the girl next to her appears to have a robotic arm, but still, it's a nice change of pace from all the booby traps and flamethrowers she has had to deal with until now. "Alright, get your head in the game. First things first, the things you are most sure of." She quickly flips her test book to the Sinister Science section, and starts working her way through them with gusto. Some questions she has studied in her advanced electronics classes; some she has read about in science magazines she consumes; some she admittedly does not know, especially the ones about magic, but it's still a decent base to work with. The problem is now the rest of the test; especially this Hardcore History stuff. Paola of course knows about the most infamous of malefactors (and notes that there are more questions about Madame Mode than what may be considered a fair share) but a lot of these names ring np beòòs with her. She takes a look at the girl sitting at her right. She biting her lip and tapping her pencil against the test. She's in trouble as well. An alliance is formed in whispers between the two students. Whenever they think Madame is not paying attention (an imperfect art, to be sure) one says the number of a question to the other and receives an answer. But the trick is, Paola noticed a small tic of the mouth when the android girl accepted her offer. She intends to sabotage her. So Paola assumes that the answers she is receiving are wrong. This allows her to reduce the pool of possible answers, which in turns makes it more likely for her to get the right one. A little reasoning and avoiding the obviously wrong one one make her acceptably confident that she has improved noticeably her final grade. She's particulalrly proud of her answer to a Torturous Thinking question. It's about a planned robbery at a Yokoyama Industries factory, in which there is a passing mention of a Wanwan Mdl. 2.0 support robot. Paola knows that Yokoyama is an old-fashioned industrial powerhouse owned by the Yokoyama family, Japanese magnates well known for their dislike of supers and even hypertech, who specializes in military, in particular military robotics, with the stated intention of "providing the common man with weapons strong enough to dismiss any superpowered menace". The Wanwan series, while pretty small and vaguely canine-shaped, are a "support robot" in the sense that they are designed to provide covering fire for other robots. A tricky question indeed. But not as tricky as another one, that Paola frankly has no idea how to crack. "What is Madame Mode's only weakness?" She isn't expecting anyone to actually answer this one, is she? She probably doesn't really have a specific weakness to something, right? Or maybe she does, and this is meant to make the new recruits just think that she doesn't? Paola decides to leave the question blank and focus on the rest of the test. But when she gives back her test, she is still thinking about that question. quote:There is no right answer to this question. Even if Madame does have a weakness to something, she is most certainly not goint to tip her hand if some random punk happens to get it by pure chance. She could, however, decide to arrange for said punk to have an unfortunate accident in one mission or other, just to be safe. Superior Hall Test: 2d6+1 7  "Technically, there is no intrinsic value in this test. I could lie like a rug the entire time, and for the purpose of this conversation, you would have to take it at face value, wouldn't you, sir?" Paola is walking up and down the Office of Menace, having found a path that allows her to do so without disturbing any bric-a-brac. "Yeah, man, sure" says Counter-Culture from his reclined position. "If you've done stuff you don't want to talk about, that's fine, man. You gotta look out for yourself, you know? If sharing ain't your thing, it ain't your thing." The young villain bites her lip. "Of course, the fact itself that you got things you don't want to talk about tells me something about you all by itself, little lady. Some good and some bad." Paola stops pacing. She now leans against the left wall of the office, eyes fixed on the mind controller. "It tells me that you are not the oversharing type. That you are sure enough in yourself that you don't need to, like, project yourself onto others to make you feel good about your sense of identity, yeah? You know what you are, and you are okay with that." "But at the same time, you've been burned by someone. You've been burned bad enough that you won't even have consider the risk that I may learn something about you, because I could, maybe, one day, use it against you. That's messed up, little lady, and I think you know that." Paola is slowly becoming more and more red of face. "You can leave if you want, little lady." Counter-Culture's gaze wanders to the ceiling. "You've told me all that I need to know." Office of Menace Test: 2d6+1 4 paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 23:25 on May 18, 2016 |
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May 17, 2016 23:27
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quote:Bouncing Betty Paola feels the sting of shame as she hears the advisor's words, but she can't blame Bouncing Betty for making this judgement call. The ex-officer is actually being even too kind with her: her perfomance in the tests has been downright embarassing. Yet she keeps her expression carefully neutral; back when she was trying to sell her inventions, she learned to mantain a good poker face, especially in formal situations like this one. "Ma'am, I know I am better than this. I realize you have no reason to believe this, nor do any of my future colleagues. But the important thing is, I know it; I am sure enough of it that I joined a villaionous organization over it." But even as she speaks, she realizes that this is not exactly true. Yes, she is sure of her talents as an inventor, but she just assumed that they were going to translate just as well into a villainy. Perhaps it was not so smooth a transition? Still, she continues. "I will just have to prove it on the field, and if in the meantime they think can take advantage of me... well, I can take advantage of that." A shiver of something resembling anticipation waltzes over her spine. Yes, she likes the sound of that. quote:Lord Playfair legal extravaganza Satisfied, she returns to her desk, where she studies the little tablet on which the contract is written on. It is remarkably standard form for a contract made by an organization such as this. Medical and dental coverage, yes, yes, all very good... but it's the access to the Salvaged Materials Room that really catches her eye. That's where all the detritus of the advanced experimental tech, both mundane and mad, is discarded to: all kinds of inventions considered too obsolete or battle-damaged to be of any use for their creators, from damaged mech or spent raygun to spent fusion reactors and malfunctioning portal generators end up there. Even the scrap of the greatest geniuses in the known world could be a treasure in the hands of someone with the know-how to use it appropriately. Of course, she also hads to mention that whole "unspeakable weakness" before she can enter. She wonders if they really have already figured it out or if this was a clever ploy to get them to reveal their weak points. Whatever the case may be, she's pretty sure Playfair is going to recongnize any lie she could probably fabricate, so she might as well spell it out. "I don't have the firepower to directly take down an heavily-armored, electricity-insulated foe. The only thing I have that can take care of such an opponent are my powered tools, and I sincerely doubt that my future adversaries are going to just stand there as I work them over with my drill. Given the materials of the average combat armor as worn by heroes with enhanced strenght such as Gladiator or Lamorak, I calculated tha tit would take me about five minutes to penetrate it with the tools I have now. Far too much in a combat scenario." My, but this contract really is surprisingly clear and standard, of the sort that... ...that you'd expect to see in a big firm. The kind of firm that refused to purchase her technology. In fact, she had studied some contract models that looked pretty much like this one. Paola bit her lip again. She had shared what had caused her to join the ranks of Y.U.M.A.D.D. (although she had been vague about who exactly had wronged her) so no big revelation there. The question is, what message are they trying to send? That they are the answer to her needs, the ones she is looking for? That would be awfully conceited of them, but not entirely out of character. She knows that there is no going back if she signs now. She has already reflected on this, and reached the conclusion that this is the only way that she will have what she needs and deserves. But then, why is she hesitating. She swallows hard, grabs the stylus and signs her name, her names, Paola Castillo and Zapper on the touch-sensitive surface of the tablet. And just like that, it is done. quote:Paola's Summer Chronicle of Science and Discovery: Part 1 Days 1-2: If I am going to sharpen and improve myself into the villain I need to be, I need to get ready. Step one: improve gear. Covering one's weakness is all well and good, but better yet in capitalizing on one's strenght.So, after finding a room close enough to it, I finally got to punch my Y.U.M.A.D.D. card into the reader and entered the Salvaged Materials Room. It really is a thing of beauty. It is immense, an immense room full of scrapped inventions and semi-destroyed equipment, waiting for the salvaging. Moving walkways slowly deposit new stuff into the room, only for it to be distributed by drones (the drones! Walkers and jetpack flyers and some sort of simian-inspired-no, focus on one thing at a time for now), by drones, as I was saying, into various piles. The logic of which object goes in which pile is not immediately obvious, but really, who cares? This is like being a kid in the candy shop again, except the quarters Papa gave me are a Swiss bank account and the candy needs some reverse engineering before I can enjoy it. My set of MG-powered tools removed panels, sawed chassis and unscrewed screws for hours at an end; I had to substitute the blade of the saw three times before I managed to find the wreck of one-man jet-powered contraption which judging by the Raygun aestetic used to belong to a guy called the Maverick. Can't say I'm too fond of that style, can't stand those retro-futurstic stuff, but I was able to convert the engine into a makeshift jet forge. All it took was some creative redirecting of combustion, no big deal, really. It took me a whole afternoon and a couple of tries (eyebrows grow back, right?), but after that I could smelt away the most resistant material, and shape it with a bit of old fashioned smithing into new blades and tips for my tools. Still not strong enough to work my way through combat armor, though, I remember thinking as I worked. No big deal. I will find a way to work around that as well. It was as I was testing my new tools on a crab-shaped automated combat walker (Yokoyama MDL Kanikani 28bis, armed with torpedoes, built to withstand ocean pressure) that I met Strain. She wanted to get the walker's CPU for one reason or another, and I said sure, that's not the part I'm interested in anyway.She huffs a bit and tells me to hurry up already, she doesn't intend to let the natural inefficiency of a meatsack get in the way of her work. Oh great, she's one of [i]those[i] villains, you know the kind? The ones that like to talk about how much greater and more powerful than everyone else they are, and how we should all get in line to kiss their boots. There's actually quite a few of them already in this class, like that Harry Potter kid. So I get what I need out of the robot and let her have at it. She walks over, touches it and pours a bunch of nanites over it. Man, those things are neat! They chewed through the external armor and flew the thing over to somewhere. Sensing an opportunity, I stalked her through the deposit. She didn't notice me, at least I don't think so, since she led me straight to a robot she was building using parts from all over the place. They were fused together so seamlessly, I don't think I would have even gotten that it came from different parts if I dind't recognize some of the original models. The robot itself, though... Man, she does not know the first thing about robot design. Talk about less than the sum of its parts, that thing is barely going to be able to sustain its own weight, let alone actually do something. I told her that, and I think she jumped a little, but her expression remained neutral so I am not sure. Anyway, I gave her some tips about reconfigurating the whole thing, and she pulled the "this was all a test to see if you were a worthy assistant, congratulations you passed" thing that villains do when they need to salvage their bruised egos. For now I'm gonna roll with it, mostly because I like her nanites and who knows, maybe I'll have an occasion to reverse engineer them. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 09:19 on May 25, 2016 |
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May 24, 2016 21:55
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quote:Paola's Summer Chronicle of Science and Discovery: Part 2 Meeting Strain reminds Paola that there is, in fact, more of the facility than just the SMR, which she proceeds to visit and frequent. She joins summer courses of Fatal Furtivity and Evil Electronics; "These plays on words are getting more and more forced", she comments to the person sitting next to her at EE, that Wilbur boy with the wheelchair, who is incredibly well adjusted given the powers he has. They end up getting along well enough, and sympathize with having an acquaintance that is convinced they are superior to anyone else. She finds Centipede's lackey act a bit unseemly for an up-and-coming villain, especially since Knobstradamus, as Wilbur once called him, had a stick so far his own rear end it was constantly poking what he ate at lunch; but she imagined an evidently sick guy in a wheelchair would be the perfect target for bullies. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive out there, regrettably. Between these courses and Caper Cultivation and Execution workshops, she hangs out at the bar/cafeteria, which while perfectly automated and capable of creating the most bizarre combination of drinks to accomodate the needs of different inhuman biologies, funnily enough still won't serve them alcohol. Everyone agrees that this is bull, and clandestine brewery projects spring up like mushrooms. Sensing an opportunity, she offers containers salvaged from the SMR for their experiments in exchange for one or two batches of the finished product. She's not sure if she actually would like to drink them, but you never know, they might come in handy, if nothing else because everyone likes the girl who brings the booze at the party. It is right after she is finished haggling with one such group of wannabe smugglers and she is enjoying a smoothie in peace that Yellow Jumpsuit makes his move. quote:Remember Yellow Jumpsuit? That isn’t really his name, but that’s how you remembered him, all the way up to this agonizingly awkward moment where he’s asking you out. He says that even though you’re a “normie”, he thinks it might be cool if you like, y’know, hung out. This is being done by a rank amateur, but come to think of it you’re hardly a professional in this field yourself. Do you just reject him outright, try and get some revenge for the comment by some elaborate scheme… or do you like, actually give him a chance, opening yourself up for disappointment? And maybe actually learning his name. For exactly half a second, Paola's brain freezes completely. Then, it goes into overdrive. He's asking me out. Why is he asking me out? Last time we interacted he called me a normie, hell, he is still calling me a normie! Also I had that obstacle smack him in the face. Why would he want to hang out with someone who did that to him? What does "hanging out" imply here? Oh god, what if he's into being smacked in the face? No, stop that, breathe. Regain composure. This line of thinking doesn't help. Focus. What reason could he have for asking me on a date, since we barely interacted and even then not in the best circumstances? The answer hits her mind like a jackhammer. They're going to see you as the weakest link. They're going to think you're the one they can push around. As she gets handle on the situation, she regains her composure. She takes a long sip of her smoothie, looking him up and down with a critical eye. Jumpsuit fidgets. He's about to say something when she speaks. "Hung out, uh. Yeah, sure, we can hang out if you want. Nothing wrong with some innocent hanging out, right?" He brightens a bit, he nods. She smiles. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, we were a bit... preoccupied, you know." She considers giggling. She decides that certain lines ought not to be crossed. If you think you can make a fool out of me, you've got another thing coming, mister. When the right time comes you'll realize this the hard way.
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May 28, 2016 10:56
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quote:Paola's Summer Chronicle of Science and Discovery, Issue 3 Now where did I hear this song and dance before? thinks Paola, as her facial muscles protest vigorously against the stepford smile she is forcing on them. Look at all these mama's boys and daddy's girls and all other configurations of parent and child gender possible. Descendants and scions and inheritors, both of their glorious team name and of a more earthly sort: it's hard not to notice that many of these so-called "top of their classes" stand on the shoulders of giants, wheter these giants are the supervillains that spawned them or the corporations or kingdoms that back them. One of them is so scared of leaving Daddy's shadow that he picked a name to remind everyone of who that is, for Christ's sake. She is not completely blinded by envy, of course. She recongnizes that they have power, that they have talent, and yes, some of them probably worked hard to get where they are now. But so did I she thinks, the ugly sensation in her throat expanding; and they are there and I am stuck here, clapping. She steels herself; takes a deep breath, adjusts her stash. I earned these with the sweat of my brow. she says to herself, passing a gloved hand on the medals, tiny bandaids for her bruised ego. She smiles at her favorite, the Hephaestus badge, red with lava and black with hammers and a volcano, like an album cover for a niche metal band. And that's more than they can say. She looks back at the New Masters of Disaster, all smiles and hands raised in victory. She inevitably focuses on the one in front. Adam (not Atom Smasher, never Atom Smasher, he would always be Adam or Yellow Jumpsuit to her). Tall, spindly Adam, who never actually tried to take advantage of her inexperience or push her around like she expected, who still called her normie from time to time; to whom she revealed, in a professional tone like this was an old, forgotten piece of her precedent life, about her attempts at becoming a legitimate inventor; who had revealed in turn that he was from the Burning Protectorate, which explained that slang and that choice in costume, and that unpleasant edge he had when talking with every other non-superpowered person in the Murderdome; most importantly, it explained why he seemed to feel almost guilty about having an interest in her. He never did tell her that he was the son of the Czar's right hand man. Which was understandable, to be fair: even is she were to believe something like that, it would not have endeared him to her. It certainly hadn't endeared any of the snobby scions of royalty that ended up in the MurderDome to her. Enough focusing on the past. You've won this round, Yellow Jumpsuit, but this will not be the age remembered for the exhuming of an old, dusty legacy; it will be the age of bright, new faces in the world of villany, the age in which... Her train of thought stops. She doesn't have a name for her future supervillain alliance. She doens't even have an alliance yet. But that can be fixed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hello? Oh hey Wilbur, what's up?" "..." "Uh, no one asked me to join on anything yet. Why?" "Really? Uh. Okay, I might be interested. Who else is in?" "You went for me first? Flattery will get you nowhere, mister. Seriously though, who else did you plan to invite?" "Uh-uh, uh-uh... ugh, come on, do we have to? I know you work with him, but-" "Yes I said 'we', smart guy, don't get your- look, fine, I'll work with him, just try and keep his stick from getting too far up his own rear end." "Who else? Yeah, yeah, makes sense... I got a couple of people who might be interested myself, actually. You know Strain, right? The girl with the nanobots?" "Oh don't give me that, she's not nearly as bad as him and you know it!" "Hmph! Anyway, what about Copycat? Right, exactly what I thought, good choice." "Alright man, it's worth a shot, try and get the rest of them on board and I'm game." "..." "...wow, you're ballsier than I thought, Wilbur. Yeah, I can work with that, no problem, who do you think I am? Let's talk in the SMR though, alright? I installed a jammer in there. Text me when you're done assembling the rest of the team." "Yeah, yeah, I'll call you Centipede on the job, big guy. Don't worry, your identity is safe with me." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- quote:The First Job: Issue 1 Paola, sitting next to Centipede, straight and professional, nods as he explains the reasoning behind his proposed team name. "It's a snappy, modern name, sir. We are a forward-facing team, aimed at the future. I think that our name should reflect that." she contributes. But as keeps talking, she furrows her brows and clears her throat. "Well, actually, sir, while the idea to rob Howler was Mobius', and he had some..." she grimaces a bit. "...opinions to share about how the caper went, the bulk of the planning was done by Copycat, actually. She and I both have some experience with robberies such as these. But she insisted that she had robbed magical mansions before, so I let her take the reins on this one." She adjusts her glasses, and looks directly at Copycat, making sure that she understands that she let her take command this one time. The Childlike Emperor turns his eyes on her. "You're Zapper, right?" he snorts. "Why don't you tell me about this, ah, robbery? What were you even planning to steal in there?" He gestures at a nearby pen, and with a whimper it rises by itself and starts taking notes. Zapper doesn't rise to the bait. "A silver chalice, sir, an object of a certain hystorical value; a gift from the vampire aristocracy in occasion of the end of a feud. I understand it was meant to symbolize how they could use silver as a gift now that they didn't need it for weapons anymore." The Emperor has a short laught at that, shaking his head. "And where is that oh so wonderful chalice right now?" Paola's fingers dig into her hands as she speaks. "...it was still in the mansion when the fire started, sir, so it's probably a malformed lump of metal by now. We had of course taken precautions against werewolves, in case Silverfang proved uncooperative, but we had not considered that he had planned to have guests that night. Halfway through the heist a couple of vampires, reasonably ancient ones, of the Szelsky strain, burst through the main doors complaining about not being properly received. I am not sure they were aware of us from the start, but they were headed straight for the treasure room just as we were working through tha last traps, so we had to retreat to avoid confrontation." "Lotta big words just to say that you ran with your tail between your legs." comments the Emperor, as Paola bites her inner cheeks. quote:Extra Feature: Zapper's Closest Teammates Centipede: If half to three quarters of your team is a few screws short of a full set, it pays to be friends with the other sane guy, at least so you can both avoid joining the ranks of the crazies. Wilbur knows what it's like being the link between the unwashed mass of humanity and someone who unironically uses words like 'unwashed masses'. Dark Eaglie: Man, what if she has it all figured out? What if there really is no working with the system unless you are born of it? What if the only way to save this world is burn it to the ground and rebuild on the ruins? Even if she's wrong, you have to admire someone with the stones to take a stance like that. Copycat: Potentially speaking, I think she might be more powerful than anyone in this group, no matter what CRISIS says on the matter. And she has such a carefree attitude about it, about everything! I wish I could be this free-spirited about my life. She scores extra points in my book for being a thief like me. Maybe we could share tips about it? Paola's Backgroud: -Both you and Centipede share a side-venture together you haven’t shared with the others. Man, it's so easy when you keep it simple, when you keep it small. It's a pretty airtight operation: he gets the tech, obtained with his "contacts", I dismantle it and make schematics that I later use to rebuild the same stuff. How come it never goes this smoothly when you bring the others into this, or when you aim at the bigger fishes? And how exactly does Centipede find this kind of tech in the first place? So many questions, so many potentially unpleasant answers. -Strain holds some kind of debt over your head you’re itching to pay off. It took a lot of cajoling, but I did get her to let me study some of her nanites. The insights they provided was invaluable (I might even improve my masterpiece, the MiniGenerator, with some of the compact technology in those bad boys) but she made it very clear that she is doing me a enormous favor by doing so, and without even too much bluster. drat. I'm going to have to pay her back one way or the other... paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 19:14 on May 31, 2016 |
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May 30, 2016 20:57
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Carmen's Diary In the warehouse district, there are many abandoned warehouses inhabited by untrustworthy sorts: smugglers and thieves stashing their loot where it won't be checked on, mad scientst fallen on hard times, even the occasional start-out villain who is smart enough to get a base of operations. This is jokingly refferred to as "the Neighborhood" by the snickering inhabitants; and in one of these warehouses there is the workshop, laboratory and occasional residence of the budding villain Zapper, née Paola Castillo. In the far left corner there is the workshop, with all that you'd expect to find in the lair of someone that builds their own equipment for amatorial villain work and doesn't have a lot of cash on hand: a large metal table supports a metalworking station, with grinder, press, and various drills and a small chemistry lab to make smoke bombs and other useful tricks of the trade, with a somewhat organized pile of scrap metal and electronics in the corner, to be searched for what is needed for the latest tinkering; all ransacked from the local junkyard and repaired or "donated" by the MurderDome.1. The walls are covered with schematics for future machines and projects to build once she gets the right materials; Paola keeps an umbrella holder full of large paper sheets for when inspiration strikes her and she feels the need to draw out a new gadget or to upgrade her plans for an existing one. There are also some costume designs that are never good enough to earn a place on her wall. The far right corner is occupied by an old iron2 bedframe, with a new mattress bought with the provents of her first heists, for when she works on her projects until it's so late that she just needs to collapse somewhere and can't bring herself to make it back to her lovely flat.3 She's recently added an humble wardrobe to keep her costume and a couple of changes of clothes as well. Now, at the bottom of this wardrobe is a little blue book, with a big, scary lock, exactly where you'd expect a young girl to keep her diary. Unlike the diaries of other girls, however, this one has a display and a little number keyboard behind it. If someone were to guess the right combination, they could open the little blue book... which would then spray an acid in their faces. Zapper does not entrust her deepest thoughts and rumifications to a bunch of paper like a thirteen year old that just discovered boys. They are entrusted on an USB hidden amidst the scrap metal, under the car engine too busted even for her to do anything with. After the report to the Emperor, she connects it to her laptop, powered like anything else in her workshop by one of her Mini Generator4, hops on the bed and starts writing. quote:When a beginner supervillain team fails their first mission, it usually means that their carreer is over. 2 Hm. Iron... maybe Iron Girl? Iron Woman? No, that sounds stupid, iron is way outdated anyway. 3 I can't stand that cramped place and I feel much better when I am away from it and in my roomy warehouse. I would probably just move here if it had running water. Plus there's no rent! 4 Why, why, why am I so terrible with names?
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Jun 15, 2016 00:52
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Of course I'm in. Time to reread the thread to make sure I did not forget anything. Fake edit: did anyone remember that there was an Iron and a Platinum generation on top of the traditional ones?
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Dec 25, 2016 16:11
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In lieu of the "let's find our voices" posts that everyone else is making, I'll write down Paola's thoughts on her teammates, since those are always nice and I forgot the first time around. Copycat: A free spirit at heart, this one. A pathological liar to booth. It's kind of amazing how she makes it seem so easy, just waltzing from one problem to the next without worrying too much about consequences or repercussions. How did she make it as a thief with so little forethought? I'm a constant knot of nerves when I'm on a job, but I've seen her skip along Silverfang's castle, stopping just in time to deactivate a trap thanks to that cat of hers. I don't think I trust her, not really, but yeah, she's cool in my book. (And to think that I'm a dog person!) Möbius: I want to like this guy, I really do. He knows his stuff, that much I have to hand it to him, and he's probably one of the heaviest hitters on our team. Plus he's friends with Wilbur. But good Lord, is he full of himself! And it's not enough that he needs to remind us of how wonderful and magical he is, he also refuses to admit when he's out of his depth. Yeah, I didn't forget about how you tried to throw me and Copycat under the bus during our meeting with the Childlike Emperor, Knobstradamus. This had better not become an habit of yours, or I'll have words with you. STRAIN: Her megalomania is much more subdued than Mobius', and her nanites are downright fascinating, so it's much easier for me to like her. I've made it clear to her that I am not, in fact, her assistant, and that she can fetch her own drat scrapped engine if she wants them, but now we're cool. Being trapped into a flesh body when you're actually a swarm of nanites is... hard to relate to, admittedly, but I can tell she's much more curious about humanity than she lets on. She's certainly human enough to party! I still can't believe what she did to that hot tub back at the MurderDrome. Centipede: It might not be high praise to be deemed the most stable and trustworthy of my colleagues, but I honestly think that Wilbur mostly has his poo poo together. Except... when I'm not sure just HOW trustworthy he is. The tech he provides for our little side venture isn't easy to get your hands on. The fact that he has such access to these toys is interesting to say the least. He didn't dwell on it, and that's understandable, I don't think I'd share a source like that either, but... all I'm saying is, this better not screw us over down the line. Dark Eagle: I like the idea of having supporting infrastructure I can rely on... but that infrastructure failed to appreciate my efforts twice already. It's not hard to imagine that Dark Eagle got the short end of the stick as well, and is now lashing out. I... don't know if she has the right idea. The possibility that society as a whole is too rotten to work with is a gutsy response, but not a totally unwarranted one. I try to just let her do her thing while I do mine, but I can at least admire her conviction. Royal Rose: Take all of Mobius' ego, take out all his likeable diligence, add an abundant dose of being a literal spoiler princess and sweet Lord almighty will you stuff a sock in it and shut up already?!?!? God, if only she knew how insecure her inane bragging makes her look like. Blackguard: We didn't talk much, but I hear she's got some baggage. Still, I haven't seen her do much that isn't acting at Rose's behest, so it's hard for me to judge her fairly. Maybe she'll surprise me with her hidden depths while we're off capering. If that happens, I have to ask her what exactly she sees in that spoiled brat.
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Dec 27, 2016 16:34
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Let's say that I want to be at the place and time that Her mentioned in her letter. Would there be scheduling problems with either of the proposed plans?
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Dec 29, 2016 12:25
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