Alchemical Solutions [Worm/Exalted] Thread 16: Playful Parasites Pervert Prayer, Perpetuate Plagues
- Thread starter Gromweld
- Start date
@Gromweld
For the record:
I enjoyed Clarity!Taylor.
The perception shift was different, and interesting, nor do I think it overstayed it's welcome.
Fluffwise, it also gave the Wards something else to focus on besides their dead families.
Mechanically, the fact that she was emotionally detached allowed us to sidestep much of the emotional impact of losing her home city and the rest of her physical connections to her mother, not to mention her body with it's ovaries.
I suspect you would be getting the same complaints if you had Taylor dealing with the trauma of losing her home city without it, at the same time the rest of the Wards were.
I do not find the wardrobe malfunctions less improbable than what I would expect from a bunch of teenagers living in close proximity; I went to boarding school, so I have no illusions about what lightly supervised teens get up to.
The only wardrobe malfunction that was even slightly iffy was the Aisha one, and that's because clothes that were first maintained by TIE and then fixed with omnitools do not have any right to be that fragile.
EDIT
I suspect you would be hearing less complaints about Clarity if it didn't have a social penalty that actively impeded people's plans for stealing all the parahumans.
Them's just the breaks.
For the record:
I enjoyed Clarity!Taylor.
The perception shift was different, and interesting, nor do I think it overstayed it's welcome.
Fluffwise, it also gave the Wards something else to focus on besides their dead families.
Mechanically, the fact that she was emotionally detached allowed us to sidestep much of the emotional impact of losing her home city and the rest of her physical connections to her mother, not to mention her body with it's ovaries.
I suspect you would be getting the same complaints if you had Taylor dealing with the trauma of losing her home city without it, at the same time the rest of the Wards were.
I do not find the wardrobe malfunctions less improbable than what I would expect from a bunch of teenagers living in close proximity; I went to boarding school, so I have no illusions about what lightly supervised teens get up to.
The only wardrobe malfunction that was even slightly iffy was the Aisha one, and that's because clothes that were first maintained by TIE and then fixed with omnitools do not have any right to be that fragile.
EDIT
I suspect you would be hearing less complaints about Clarity if it didn't have a social penalty that actively impeded people's plans for stealing all the parahumans.
Them's just the breaks.
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Ridtom
Good. Bad. I'm the man with the Wand.
Taylor: "Come on Iris we have to go now!"
*Iris slams pen and paperer onto a bloody tea-set*
I: "Don't you get it?! I! AM MRS. BEARING! HA HA HA HA!
- Location
- The end of all things
I don't mind Marrow, but this section is certainly on the long side. The RL timing may be a factor, as it has been quite some time sense we have focused on Taylor. Update size and rate are also a consideration. My biggest complaint is that there was way too much power testing. It gets old after a while.
FunkyEntropy
Occasionally insightful, possibly grumpy
- Location
- Los Angeles
^^This. Watching people learn how to use their powers is not the most interesting thing in the world particularly because this is not the start of the story and we have a very active plot to deal with.
ChandraMagic
I can't be bothered to expend the energy to care
Well, on the plus side, we should be shifting back to EOA after this update, I think.
I didn't mind them, but then, I'm watching Grom write them and shooting the shit with him at the time, so. Mileage may vary. The first power testing was needed, simply so the poor ford sedan could be vaporized. Also, Lockstep.
And that's all I have to say on the matter..oh, one more thing. It gave you all a different look on Uriel, which was needed. I got tired of saying 'jesus fuck, he's seriously not out to get you or anything;'.
In return, I give you canon charms that we seem to have missed when statting Marrow.Some fun images to keep you all occupied:
Riley being Best Little Sister:
Enduring Order Administrator Wins at Network Security:
And some potential sub-modules for when we get to a vat:
http://plagueofhats.blogspot.ca/2010/09/fuck-you-and-house-behind-you.html
http://plagueofhats.blogspot.ca/2010/09/everybodys-jealous-of-my-lifts.html
NEW CHARMS
SHOCKWAVE DRIVER BARRAGE
Cost: 2m [1m]; Mins: Strength 2, Essence 2;
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Combo-OK, Knockback
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Strength Augmentation
***
Oscillating bands of orichalcum wrap around the Alchemical's fists, magnifying the force of his blows. Attacks supplemented by this Charm automatically inflict knockback on a successful hit (see Exalted, page 153). Impact causes the flung character to take one die of damage for every yard he would have otherwise traveled (maximum 25 dice). The damage is usually bashing, although collisions with especially hazardous obstacles may cause lethal damage.
***
Submodules
Collision Magnitude Upgrade (Strength 3, 1xp): Each purchase of this submodule adds five yards to the knockback distance of this Charm. The Alchemical can purchase it up to (Essence) times.
*
Momentum Pulse Overcharger (4xp): If the Alchemical uses this Charm to supplement attacks in a flurry, he can choose to delay the knockback until the end of his last flurried action, stacking the knockback of all attacks enhanced by this Charm.
*
Gravitational Impact Hammer (Strength 4, Essence 3): For a three-mote surcharge, the Alchemical can knock his foes downwards, rather than flinging them away. Doing so causes them to suffer damage as usual for a collision
CASUALTY-MINIMIZING EQUATION
Cost: 3m [1m]; Mins: Dexterity 3, Essence 2;
Type: Reflexive (Step 2)
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Dexterity Augmentation
***
A reactive processor wired into the Alchemical's sensory cortex controls magnetized servos and gyroscopic swivels in her joints, deploying them in defensive configurations to protect those around the Champion. The Alchemical can activate this Charm to reflexively take a Defend Other action. He cannot do so if he is already protecting a character with Defend Other.
*
Submodules
Aegis of the Populat (3xp): Activating this Charm to protect a mortal cost zero motes. With Essence 4, other activations are discounted to two motes.
*
Parallel Defensive Geometry (Dexterity 4): The Alchemical can activate this Charm even if he's already using a Defend Other action, to a maximum of (lower of Dexterity or Wits) simultaneous Defend Other actions. Defend Other actions to protect mortals do not count towards this limit.
GEAR-DRIVEN REFLEX AUTOMATION
Cost: 4m [1m]; Mins: Dexterity 4, Essence 2;
Type: Reflexive (Step 9)
Keywords: Combo-OK, Counterattack, Obvious
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Dexterity Augmentation
***
Motorized gears of moonsilver are installed along the Alchemical's forearms, wired into his Dexterity Augmentation with starmetal circuitry. When the Alchemical is attacked, this precision assembly overrides his conscious motor control, letting him strike back with clockwork precision. The Alchemical can use this Charm to make a counterattack in response to any attack made against him at close combat range. He can make the counterattack using any appropriate combat Ability.
***
Submodules
Crossfire Targeting Sensors: The Alchemical can activate this Charm in response to ranged attacks, allowing him to make a counterattack with a ranged weapon of his own.
*
Perfected Clockwork Reflex Mechanism (Wits 4, Essence 3): The Alchemical can pay a two-mote surcharge to extend this Charm's duration to one tick, letting him respond to all valid triggers with a counterattack during that time.
CORTEX ACCELERATION MODULE
Cost: 4m [1m]; Mins: Wits 3, Essence 2;
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Combo-Basic, Internal
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Perception or Wits Augmentation
***
Six jade cylinders are surgically implanted in the Alchemical's occipital lobe, each one housing a chemical pump filled with synthetic neurostimulants. When the Charm is activated, these chemicals flood the Champion's brain, making time seem to stand still for him as his perception hyper-accelerates. This Charm can enhance any Join Battle, Join Debate, or Join War roll, adding the lower of (Perception or Wits) automatic successes to the roll. The Champion's distorted perception of the flow of time allows him to plan out his first move, adding a single additional die to the first attack or social attack he makes in that scene. This bonus is not considered dice from Charms, but dice from Aiming or Monologuing, as appropriate. The Alchemical must make the attack on his first action to receive this bonus.
**
Submodules
Hyperfocus Concentration (4xp): The bonus on the Alchemical's first attack increases to two dice. If he received more successes on the initiative roll than any other character, the bonus instead rises to three dice.
*
Sustained Release Formula (Essence 3, 4xp): If the Alchemical makes a flurry of attacks or social attacks as his first action in a scene, the dice bonus from this Charm applies to all of them.
NEW SUBMODULES
Motonic Reactor Discharge (Strength 4, Essence 4): The Alchemical's Essence Irradiation Corona gains the Stackable keyword, and can be activated up to (Essence / 2) times to enhance a single attack.
*
Void Hunter Reticule (Perception 3, Essence 3, 4xp): Aim-Calibrating Sensors upgraded with this Axiomatic submodule convert all Aim dice to automatic successes on attacks against creatures of the Void.
*
Champion's Compelling Assertion: Social attacks again un-Exalted members of a social group the Alchemical belongs to are undodgeable when supplemented by the Champion's Unconditional Imperative Programming.
*
Synthetic Bliss Engrams (Essence 3, 4xp): The Alchemical's Thousandfold Courtesan Calculations enhance any post-coitus social attack meant to build an Intimacy of lust or infatuation towards him, causing the target to automatically form the Intimacy if he fails to defend or resist, no matter how high his Conviction.
*
Syntax-Modeling Subroutine: The Alchemical can activate Anticipatory Simulation Processor to defend against mental influences, removing the unexpected tag from them or negating onslaught and coordinated attack penalties.
*
Tactical Analysis Engrams (Wits 3): The Alchemical's Optical Enhancement allows him to discern the Archery, Martial Arts, Melee, and Thrown ratings of any character that he can perceive, calling up a visual read-out displaying a relative assessment of their combat capabilities. He also learns any specialties that they have in those Abilities. A second purchase of this submodule adds War to the list of Abilities the Alchemical can detect, and reveals the Drill, Endurance, Might, and Morale of any unit he can perceive in mass combat.
NEW VOIDTECH SUBMODULES
Entropic Psyche Scar (Manipulation 4, Essence 3): Successful use of Rogue Cell Isolation Protocols corrupted by this submodule allows the Apostate to redefine the emotional context of an Intimacy, rather than removing it. He can choose any context he desires, so long as the resultant Intimacy opposes either the social customs of the target's native culture or the dogma of the Great Maker.
*
Machine-Cyst Concealment (4xp): The Alchemical can activate his Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier to disguise his Void Charms, rather than internalizing them. Alchemical Charms corrupted by Voidtech submodules revert to their normal appearance, while Void-keyworded Charms are rendered seemingly mechanical in nature. Activating an Obvious Void Charm still reveals its true nature, and this concealment is overcome by any effect which bypasses the usual effect of Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier. If the Alchemical conceals all of his installed Void Charms, then his nature as an Apostate cannot be detected by any means.
SHOCKWAVE DRIVER BARRAGE
Cost: 2m [1m]; Mins: Strength 2, Essence 2;
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Combo-OK, Knockback
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Strength Augmentation
***
Oscillating bands of orichalcum wrap around the Alchemical's fists, magnifying the force of his blows. Attacks supplemented by this Charm automatically inflict knockback on a successful hit (see Exalted, page 153). Impact causes the flung character to take one die of damage for every yard he would have otherwise traveled (maximum 25 dice). The damage is usually bashing, although collisions with especially hazardous obstacles may cause lethal damage.
***
Submodules
Collision Magnitude Upgrade (Strength 3, 1xp): Each purchase of this submodule adds five yards to the knockback distance of this Charm. The Alchemical can purchase it up to (Essence) times.
*
Momentum Pulse Overcharger (4xp): If the Alchemical uses this Charm to supplement attacks in a flurry, he can choose to delay the knockback until the end of his last flurried action, stacking the knockback of all attacks enhanced by this Charm.
*
Gravitational Impact Hammer (Strength 4, Essence 3): For a three-mote surcharge, the Alchemical can knock his foes downwards, rather than flinging them away. Doing so causes them to suffer damage as usual for a collision
CASUALTY-MINIMIZING EQUATION
Cost: 3m [1m]; Mins: Dexterity 3, Essence 2;
Type: Reflexive (Step 2)
Keywords: Combo-OK
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Dexterity Augmentation
***
A reactive processor wired into the Alchemical's sensory cortex controls magnetized servos and gyroscopic swivels in her joints, deploying them in defensive configurations to protect those around the Champion. The Alchemical can activate this Charm to reflexively take a Defend Other action. He cannot do so if he is already protecting a character with Defend Other.
*
Submodules
Aegis of the Populat (3xp): Activating this Charm to protect a mortal cost zero motes. With Essence 4, other activations are discounted to two motes.
*
Parallel Defensive Geometry (Dexterity 4): The Alchemical can activate this Charm even if he's already using a Defend Other action, to a maximum of (lower of Dexterity or Wits) simultaneous Defend Other actions. Defend Other actions to protect mortals do not count towards this limit.
GEAR-DRIVEN REFLEX AUTOMATION
Cost: 4m [1m]; Mins: Dexterity 4, Essence 2;
Type: Reflexive (Step 9)
Keywords: Combo-OK, Counterattack, Obvious
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Dexterity Augmentation
***
Motorized gears of moonsilver are installed along the Alchemical's forearms, wired into his Dexterity Augmentation with starmetal circuitry. When the Alchemical is attacked, this precision assembly overrides his conscious motor control, letting him strike back with clockwork precision. The Alchemical can use this Charm to make a counterattack in response to any attack made against him at close combat range. He can make the counterattack using any appropriate combat Ability.
***
Submodules
Crossfire Targeting Sensors: The Alchemical can activate this Charm in response to ranged attacks, allowing him to make a counterattack with a ranged weapon of his own.
*
Perfected Clockwork Reflex Mechanism (Wits 4, Essence 3): The Alchemical can pay a two-mote surcharge to extend this Charm's duration to one tick, letting him respond to all valid triggers with a counterattack during that time.
CORTEX ACCELERATION MODULE
Cost: 4m [1m]; Mins: Wits 3, Essence 2;
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Combo-Basic, Internal
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Any Perception or Wits Augmentation
***
Six jade cylinders are surgically implanted in the Alchemical's occipital lobe, each one housing a chemical pump filled with synthetic neurostimulants. When the Charm is activated, these chemicals flood the Champion's brain, making time seem to stand still for him as his perception hyper-accelerates. This Charm can enhance any Join Battle, Join Debate, or Join War roll, adding the lower of (Perception or Wits) automatic successes to the roll. The Champion's distorted perception of the flow of time allows him to plan out his first move, adding a single additional die to the first attack or social attack he makes in that scene. This bonus is not considered dice from Charms, but dice from Aiming or Monologuing, as appropriate. The Alchemical must make the attack on his first action to receive this bonus.
**
Submodules
Hyperfocus Concentration (4xp): The bonus on the Alchemical's first attack increases to two dice. If he received more successes on the initiative roll than any other character, the bonus instead rises to three dice.
*
Sustained Release Formula (Essence 3, 4xp): If the Alchemical makes a flurry of attacks or social attacks as his first action in a scene, the dice bonus from this Charm applies to all of them.
NEW SUBMODULES
Motonic Reactor Discharge (Strength 4, Essence 4): The Alchemical's Essence Irradiation Corona gains the Stackable keyword, and can be activated up to (Essence / 2) times to enhance a single attack.
*
Void Hunter Reticule (Perception 3, Essence 3, 4xp): Aim-Calibrating Sensors upgraded with this Axiomatic submodule convert all Aim dice to automatic successes on attacks against creatures of the Void.
*
Champion's Compelling Assertion: Social attacks again un-Exalted members of a social group the Alchemical belongs to are undodgeable when supplemented by the Champion's Unconditional Imperative Programming.
*
Synthetic Bliss Engrams (Essence 3, 4xp): The Alchemical's Thousandfold Courtesan Calculations enhance any post-coitus social attack meant to build an Intimacy of lust or infatuation towards him, causing the target to automatically form the Intimacy if he fails to defend or resist, no matter how high his Conviction.
*
Syntax-Modeling Subroutine: The Alchemical can activate Anticipatory Simulation Processor to defend against mental influences, removing the unexpected tag from them or negating onslaught and coordinated attack penalties.
*
Tactical Analysis Engrams (Wits 3): The Alchemical's Optical Enhancement allows him to discern the Archery, Martial Arts, Melee, and Thrown ratings of any character that he can perceive, calling up a visual read-out displaying a relative assessment of their combat capabilities. He also learns any specialties that they have in those Abilities. A second purchase of this submodule adds War to the list of Abilities the Alchemical can detect, and reveals the Drill, Endurance, Might, and Morale of any unit he can perceive in mass combat.
NEW VOIDTECH SUBMODULES
Entropic Psyche Scar (Manipulation 4, Essence 3): Successful use of Rogue Cell Isolation Protocols corrupted by this submodule allows the Apostate to redefine the emotional context of an Intimacy, rather than removing it. He can choose any context he desires, so long as the resultant Intimacy opposes either the social customs of the target's native culture or the dogma of the Great Maker.
*
Machine-Cyst Concealment (4xp): The Alchemical can activate his Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier to disguise his Void Charms, rather than internalizing them. Alchemical Charms corrupted by Voidtech submodules revert to their normal appearance, while Void-keyworded Charms are rendered seemingly mechanical in nature. Activating an Obvious Void Charm still reveals its true nature, and this concealment is overcome by any effect which bypasses the usual effect of Integrated Artifact Transmogrifier. If the Alchemical conceals all of his installed Void Charms, then his nature as an Apostate cannot be detected by any means.
Casualty Minimizing Equation in particular is ideal for both our Adamant and any Jade, being extremely mote-efficient.
Gear Driven Reflex Automation would fit a Moonsilver, and again our Adamant.
Then there's the Motonic Reactor sub-module for Essence Corona.
They gave me the impression that subconsciously Taylor wants to be just like Narwal.
But good luck trying to get her to admit it.
Girl went from feeling her body was gawky and awkward to a five dot appearance goddess.
This.They gave me the impression that subconsciously Taylor wants to be just like Narwal.
But good luck trying to get her to admit it.
Girl went from feeling her body was gawky and awkward to a five dot appearance goddess.
It was barely two months ago that she was a fairly awkward, bullied teen; right now she is acknowledged as one of the most beautiful women in the world.
Some degree of mental dissonance is to be expected, even with all the Alchemical charms and augs devoted to ensuring public poise.
Even veteran Alchemicals sometimes feel the same way; Dreadful Adjudicator of Law is one example IIRC.
EDIT
And if we have the free slots later at Essence 4-5, I'd advocate installing Appearance Augmentations to get her to Appearance 7, for that extra social firepower.
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Gromweld
Learning By Mistake
Chapter 7.7
Storming the Castle:
[X] Kick In The Door: Time is of the essence. You are the invincible diamond, and you bring the thunder. Kali can keep up.
- [x] Stunt: Metal screams as a tornado of blades clears your path. Kali, feet wedged between Plasma Thrusters, combines her powers with Gust's, annihilating any drones still targeting you through the jammer's interference. You slam through the X of insects on the wall like the fist of an angry god-machine, chunks of concrete scattering the surprised PRT heavy squad barricading the room.
Where's a Rogue When You Need One?:
[X] Bank Vault Door Strategy: Traps? ISF laughs at your puny traps!
- [x] Stunt: The last drone hits the floor with a dull thump, one of Kali's swords in it's back. As the shard-embedded walls begin to move again, you shift your shield to your left hand and begin to transform your fist into a razor-sharp crystal spike. "What are you doing," your insect guides buzz in confusion. "Making us a shortcut."
Do You Split the Party?:
[X] No, stay together.
- [x] Stunt: Kali smirks, "Not my first live-action horror movie, Marmar." Nor yours. Keeping an adamant blade in one hand and shard launcher in the other, you extrude a shield. No rushing ahead either. You chide sternly. Kali pouts but nods, silently rearranging her blades to cover your path as you weave through the cubicles in the dimly lit office.
Calculus of War:
[X] Save Tourists
- [x] Stunt: "Bladedancer, shield as many workers and civilians as you can without leaving yourself open." You ready your forcefield charm, "Focus on the tourists when you can. This isn't their fight." You notice that the tourists here are in much better shape than the average… and the tattoos of the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor...oh. That explains the lack of panicking.
Grab-Bag:
[X] Something useful
Free Action:
[X] Free Action: "Weaver," you whisper to the swarm above you in Old Realm, "can you use your bugs to keep an eye out for traps? And brief me on what you think is important." Part of the swarms settles on the back of your armor and then it begins to talk. "Confirmed. I'll direct you to the CC room."
XP Expenditures:
[X] FPoP - 2 XP - Craft (Shards ●○○)
[X] EOA - 6 XP - Artifact (Dragonsuit) ●●○○○
[X] EOA - 2 XP - Lore (Artificial Intelligence ●○○)
[X] FPoP - 4 XP - Occult ●○○○○
***
Strider arrives less than ten seconds after your declaration to him over the phone, and his appearance coincides with the call terminating on his end. Turning to the navy-clad Mover, you shove away the idle curiosity about long-range teleporters and their unique cellular phone needs.
Your own phone rests comfortably in your left hand, its new earbud in place in your right ear, and an idea for how to conceal the two critical communication tools in your manifested armor still forming in your mind. The garments crafted by Administrator will not survive the upcoming battle, so they will remain in the meditation alcove for the time being, leaving you in your base Alchemical form.
Condensing your armor is taking longer than during the tests without the extra mental threads to provide additional focus, but you should have enough time before Bladedancer arrives at the rendezvous point.
"Protectorate Island is compromised, along with its security. Bezalel and his drones are killing those inside. Do you know the northern Philadelphia-side bridge to the island?"
Strider's body is alert, but beyond that it is difficult to read his emotional state with his baggy costume, face-obscuring helm, and black scarf. He looks past you for a moment, likely in thought, then turns to meet your gaze. With a shake of his head and a horizontal cutting motion with his right hand, he declares that he does not.
"PRT Downtown Headquarters?"
A nod and a thumbs-up.
"Let us go."
***
Every teleportation device and power you have experienced in your years as a hero has been slightly different, but the disorientation is always there. Some powers, like the Twins' own swirling vortex, are far more jarring than others; even ignoring the effect itself, the mind has trouble understanding the sudden shift that comes with such a displacement.
Strider's effect is one of mind-shattering speed - as if you were being sling-shot from one point to the next - even when he is capable of teleporting into locked, underground rooms. Processing the instantaneous rush of sensory information is beyond human capabilities, and the mind is just beginning to accelerate when the effect ends as quickly as it began.
To the outside observer, there is a puff of dust and displaced air at the point of origin, then a similar effect at the destination. Yet another reminder of how powers that appear trivially simple can hide the deepest secrets.
You shrug off the disorientation with a single blink, then turn again to Strider. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you try once more to meet his eyes beneath the cloth covering.
"I apologize for abusing your gift barely an hour after it was given. Uzu and Tatsu were unavailable, and my city desperately needed my presence. But... you are a person, not a vessel of transportation."
The silence on the rooftop of Philadelphia's PRT Headquarters is punctuated by the crackle of superheated blasts of plasma and broken sonic barriers; barely two miles away, Protectorate Island's turrets are easy to hear despite the numerous buildings impeding your line-of-sight. Neither of you react to the sounds.
After a moment of hesitation, Strider nods.
"Philadelphia is anticipating an S-Class event in the near future. Knowing the capabilities of the Island's defenses and weapons housed within, I fear this is it. Will you stay to assist Director Uriel?"
Without hesitation, Strider nods again. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the resolution brings a smile to your face. You give a light squeeze to his shoulder and nod in gratitude.
"I will call you again, when time is no longer of the essence. Be safe."
Strider's shoulders shake a bit in laughter, before he gives you a quick thumbs-up and disappears in a puff of dust.
Re-centering your mind, you consider your options for a precious few seconds. Keeping your options open will be your best bet at this juncture, and once your anima is out in full-force there will be no way to retract it easily. For now, suppressing your expenditure of essence is critical.
The four wing-like jets recessed in your upper back spike outwards, roaring loudly as superheated essence blasts forth from their nozzles. Keeping a rein on the massive expenditure of essence with your Aura-Dampening Component charm, you rocket into the air on a blast of concussive force that kicks up an enormous cloud of dust on the rooftop's helipad.
While you would prefer to get an aerial view of the situation, the smoking wreck of a PRT helicopter only a block away reminds you of the range of Protectorate Island's laser and railgun turrets. Not wanting to expose yourself to that kind of firepower so early in the fight, you opt to keep low enough to have at least one building between you and the Island as you make your way northeast, towards where you are to meet up with Bladedancer.
Barely a minute into your flight, you notice something odd above you: there are other, unharmed helicopters in the sky. You take a risky detour upwards to get a closer look at one, revealing that it is a Channel Eight News helicopter. Just as recognition dawns, however, a fist-sized projectile blasts past your face and threatens to shatter your eardrums in its passing. Immediately diving and spinning erratically, you avoid a streak of red energy - the passing of which disrupts your flight pattern further due to the subsequent rush of superheated air.
Two questions answered, then, but in their answering a third question is raised: why are the news helicopters being spared? The Director's comment makes you think that Bezalel isn't being so discriminatory within the confines of the Island, and the constant rumbles and crashing sounds from near the waterline make it sound as if the turrets are scouring the riverside clean of civilian establishments.
Bezalel was always about results first, showmanship second. This dramatic departure from his usual methodology is either a sign of how far gone he is, or a indicative of someone else behind the crisis. Neither ideas bode well for your assault, as it means that you can no longer rely upon your knowledge of his established tactics.
Pushing the thought to the back of your mind, you refocus on moulding your condensed armor around your form. You will need as much armor as you can manage, as those two shots against you demonstrated.
Below, the twists and turns of Philadelphia's downtown fade into a dull, familiar blur.
***
The scream of laser blasts and thunder of supersonic projectiles pounding the riverside into rubble forces you to skim along the ground as you near your destination; traffic along the interstate has stopped completely, with most civilians wisely fleeing their cars and keeping low as they make their way to the nearest safe drop. You keep to the right shoulder - only having to dodge a few brave civilians trying to capture the spectacle on camera - and eventually take a screaming right turn as you rocket down the correct off-ramp. With some difficulty you manage to avoid careening into the pavement or an abandoned car as you make the perilous last leg of your journey at full speed.
Not that you have much choice in the matter, as your Plasma Thruster Assembly frustratingly only has one speed: ramming speed.
The smoking ruins of the PRT security checkpoint become visible immediately after you exit the off-ramp, and judging from the crimson lances and thunderous kinetic impacts it looks as though the turrets on Protectorate Island are aiming to reduce the two-storey building to ground-level.
You want to cut off your thrusters a few blocks away, but since you can't afford to bleed off the speed with any aerial maneuvers your instincts urge you into the only safe alternative: a more aggressive landing. Eying the storage lot across from the now-ruined security checkpoint, you spot a viable target.
Three seconds later, you sail through the chain-link fence and plunge your fist into the rusted metal of a white-painted shipping container. The accordion-like surface of the container buckles around your outstretched arm, even as your punch puts you shoulder-deep through the old steel. After the scream of your cut-off thrusters and deforming metal passes, you blink at the realization that you feel perfectly fine; your unarmored fist feels none the worse-for-wear, and you just went from roughly sixty miles-per-hour to zero in a split-second without a painful reminder of how physics are supposed to work.
Pulling your fist free, you offer a silent prayer of thanks to Autochthon for yet another of his wondrous gifts, then quickly begin a more stealthy approach towards the only remaining wall outside of the security checkpoint. Your haste is soon rewarded, as you barely manage a dozen silent strides from your landing point when a supersonic slug punches through several containers and obliterates the area with ground-shaking blast.
Moving more swiftly, you narrow your eyes at the accuracy of the shot. As you duck behind the last container before the chain-link fence nearest to the security checkpoint, you scan the area for- yes, there is a camera still intact above the checkpoint's entrance.
Though your efforts to shape your condensed armor are paused while you are sneaking, a hopeful mental plea rewards you with a flechette launcher on your right wrist. You take a quick breath, then exhale it slowly before you duck out from behind cover and send a burst of adamant razors into the wide-angle camera across the street. The camera explodes in a satisfactory burst of sparks and debris, and you follow up the action with a quick dive behind another container.
Just as your former cover is reduced to molten slag in a burst of crimson light.
You keep moving, but when more than a minute passes without another retaliatory strike - and your glances at the security checkpoint reveal that all the other cameras and sensors have been ruined by the constant bombardment, you allow yourself a moment to re-focus on your efforts towards your armor.
Bladedancer should be here soon, and you still have much to do.
***
Now that you know what to expect, and have a better grasp over the flow of essence in your body, the shock of pleasure from extruding the first layer of condensed armor is much easier to mentally power through. The feeling of rapturous joy is still nearly overwhelming, but you now are able to note how it is a peculiar inverse of the mind-shattering pain that your condensed bone armor once inflicted upon you. You cannot deny the change is not completely unwelcome, but you would have preferred no feeling at all, to be perfectly honest - the wave of positive feelings is far too distracting to be something you can afford in the middle of a fight.
Autochthon moves in mysterious ways, but you have faith that there was purpose in his decisions.
You are still kneeling behind the only standing wall on the outside of the security checkpoint when a light waterfall whispering razors announces Bladedancer's arrival. Turning from where your armored fingertips have been ready to push off of the concrete sidewalk, you observe her skimming along the same path you took in a similar stance atop the three-foot-wide, six-foot-tall blade she affectionately calls 'the Endslayer'.
The massive shard of your former prison housed within is the only reason it has survived the multiple Endbringer fights it has seen, and only her power allows her to wield it; left alone, it easily weighs as much as a garbage truck. Though you know she got the idea from Chevalier, it remains one of the happier memories of your former prison.
As she closes the distance, you slide a bit to the left to allow her - and her cloud of surrounding blades - space behind the concrete wall. You raise a fist, signing for her to hold and that the current location is secure. She nods, her eyes shining in a mixture of anticipatory zeal and deadly focus.
"Sensors?" she hisses between thundercracks of lasers and railgun slugs. You shake your head, pointing to the three destroyed cameras in the area, getting a nod from her in return.
"We think the phones are compromised, too, so turn yours off."
You wince beneath your streamlined helmet, then do a mental backflip as you try to manipulate your condensed armor to push out the pocket of space you managed at the small of your back. It takes a few seconds, but the pocket eventually snaps open and you quickly deactivate your phone before repeating the mental gymnastics to seal the pocket shut. Turning back, you note Bladedancer giving your new armor style a critical eye.
"Deeper blue means denser armor?" she muses, reaching out to rap a taloned knuckle against your shoulder pauldron. You nod, but the deep, satisfying chime from her move says it all. She gives a wicked grin at the sound.
"Little bit of Chevy's armor mixed with mine. I like it, Mar."
That… is not completely unsurprising, but you do not have a mirror to see just how the armor manifested this time. You do not bother with a response, however, as Bladedancer's grin is already sliding off as she updates you on her last orders from Director Uriel.
Gust is currently working on forming a large enough barrier of debris to give him time to work up obscuring tornados on the Island. Once they form, Geode is going to give Crocker's golems a bridge across the river while Legend takes out the displacement turrets and then starts hammering the shields from the sky. To avoid putting Crocker at undue risk, he'll only be operating one large golem from that range, and it'll be clearing up the ground-based turrets around the Administration building.
You and Bladedancer are to breach the Admin building when the shield flickers from Legend's hits, while the rest of the forces work to clear a safe path for potential evacuations. There is a scorched 'X' target on one of the river-facing walls, from where Weaver's bugs were blasted off by the Island's turrets, but it's likely that spot is now filled with hostiles and traps. Once inside, you are to clear turrets and drones as quickly as possible while looking for survivors.
That there is a tourist group inside does not surprise you, as it is a weekday and before seven o'clock, but it is saddening that even more civilians have gotten caught up in this madness.
"If we can find Chevalier, Trace, Weaver, or Who, great, but we need to make a beeline for the security control center. The physical overrides there should at least let us disable the automated defenses and shields-" she pauses, frowning briefly before shaking her head, "-but I'll have to do it, unless you've got your old body tucked in there somewhere."
You shake your head, as a gnawing feeling in your gut grows with the understanding of how much danger that will put her in; as a failsafe, the physical security shut-down mechanism locks the person's arms into the mechanism. That the genetic identifier won't recognize your new form mean that you can't volunteer in her place.
During her briefing, you have not been idle - an additional layer of condensed armor has thickened the plates and bulked up your form slightly, but while you realize you could continue stacking more armor the growing wind in the area is a sign that Gust is already on the move.
Instead, you are pouring your focus into generating as much raw, spare adamant as you can, and then discarding it. The act is considerably more difficult with your layers of condensed armor; no longer can you push out jagged armor and shed it with ease. Creating 'wasted' adamant in this mode is impossible, leaving you to resort to generating a constant stream of crude 'throwing knives'. Still, judging by the growing storm of electric-blue razors in the air around you, Bladedancer has caught on to your goal.
"These feel just as weird as your bladed armor did, Marmar," Bladedancer admits, once her briefing has wound down. There is a distracted twitch on her face for a few moments before she shakes her head, sighing. "I can't 'see' through them, and it almost hurts when I try."
You follow her gaze as a few of the whirling adamant razors slice through concrete like it wasn't there, then turn back to see the predatory grin that has grown on her face. She says something in response to the test, but the feeling in your chest and the growing howl of wind tosses the words away. A frown crosses Bladedancer's visage as she looks up to the darkened sky and nods to herself.
You push back the fear that has forced you to keep the world at arm's length for decades. The world grows sharper, crisper for your decision: you have lost too much to waste this opportunity.
Reaching up with both hands, your smooth helmet snaps off your head with a single fluid motion.
Bladedancer turns at the sound, and you meet her lips with yours.
The world does not go white, this time, though the joy is similar.
After a moment too short by years, you pull away. Bladedancer opens her eyes again, and a sly, knowing smile quickly affixes itself on her face while you place your helmet back on your head. The crystal somehow latches onto its previous moorings, sealing back into place.
A series of brilliant crimson bolts color the landscape, all aiming towards the sky. In response, a dozen multi-hued beams of varying size and speed careen down from high above, converging on the largest building on Protectorate Island. The Administration Center's shield strobes under the force of the blasts, casting a sickly green glow through the three growing tornados that now swirl around the Island.
In response, the world around the two of you drops away into a field of radiant whites and purples. The blessings of Autochthon settle over your body, granting you invulnerability to errant blows, coordination beyond measure, and strength to see your task through. With a gentle hand, you also bestow the blessing of coordination upon Bladedancer, watching her form shift and glide with divine power as a thunderstruck expression crosses her face.
Your thrusters effortlessly spear outwards from your upper back, and you slide your left hand down from Bladedancer's shoulder to take her hand.
Ansh'e fills the evening sky above you, a cascading field of stars framing the glory she sings of the Great Maker.
"Let us fly."
***
Bladedancer's maneuverability on the Endslayer is considerably greater than yours, in terms of speed - with a maximum speed of easily double yours and a minimum lower than your own ramming speed - but the gifts of the Great Maker allow you to perform dodges and spins without care for the concept of 'angular momentum'.
This is made clear when the two of you are forced from your original trajectory towards the Administration building, when a quarter of Bladedancer's protective wall of adamant and steel disappears in a tearing crack of space and time.
Not eager to give the remaining displacement cannons more chances to teleport Bladedancer into a holding cell deep within the Detention building, you swerve around to place yourself between the Island and her; you believe you share Administrator's immunity to teleportation effects while utilizing Industrial Survival Frame, but even if not then you will likely have a better chance escaping from confinement than Bladedancer would.
As the two of you veer right, following the Delaware River's course, Bladedancer barks a laugh at your protective gesture. After a few more moments of paired weaving through the air to avoid more shots from the railgun and stunner-launcher turrets, however, she waves a hand for you to move closer.
Tandem flying like this is completely new to you, but with both you and Bladedancer augmented by Incomparable Efficiency Upgrade, motions like this seem trivially easy.
As you close with her, Bladedancer reaches out and grabs your shoulder, pointing with her free hand to keep going past the western tip of the base for a while longer. You nod, and after a dozen more seconds of dodging and weaving together - some shots blasting away more of Bladedancer's floating shield of interlaced razors - the two of you soar past a massive bridge of greenish-blue crystal. A marble-white, two-storey golem reminiscent of an ancient greek olympian has already begun striding out onto the crystal bridge, though its form ripples slightly as it absorbs railgun shots with only small hitches in its stride.
As you and Bladedancer soar along the waterline - your own thrusters generating a massive wake of spray - it takes a few more moments for the remaining turrets to turn from your two receding forms and focus back on Legend, Gust, and Crocker's golem. When the coast is clear, Bladedancer sidles up to you with a wicked grin that reaches her eyes.
"Hold still!"
Used to her displays of manic bravado in times like these, you deduce what she's about to do the moment she zooms up above you, then gently lowers herself onto your back. You feel razor-covered feet slide gracefully along the gap running along your spine, until her feet are in an open 'V' shape.
Carefully, you crane your neck back as she begins a maniacal laugh, only to see her standing straight up with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
You resist the urge to swerve, even knowing that she would likely be able to stay attached - or, if not, at least resume her flight with ease.
Instead, you reach up with your left hand, tap her left shin, and then make a 'lower' gesture with the hand. Out of the corner of your eye you see her wave an arm in mock defeat, before she takes a kneeling stance similar to your earlier one: her hands gripping your pauldrons for stability, her left foot near the base of your neck and her right knee just between your two lower, smaller thrusters.
The entire affair takes barely thirty seconds, but for some reason you do not feel that this bizarre position is as ludicrously dangerous - and inefficient - as it might appear. Indeed, the sheer audacity of the move threatens to bring a smile to your face and you feel your essence reserves surge in response to the display.
You anticipate a thorough chastising from Uriel after this, but it will be worth it.
***
So attached, you quickly discover that Bladedancer is easily capable of maintaining her grip on you while you perform a few test maneuvers. Understanding that time is of the essence, however, the two of you are soaring back towards Protectorate Island - which has become difficult to distinguish over the three tornados tearing the Island apart.
You understand that storms and tornados have a one-through-five scale, but these three must be at least a three or four on them if the ruined PRT van being tossed about is any indication. Somehow, Gust appears to be capable of keeping the debris contained within the wind tunnels, as you aren't seeing the usual spray of debris for storms of that size.
Even with all your divine gifts, it is humbling reminder of just how potent parahuman abilities can be.
Even Crocker's massive golem is having a hard time of it, though it is considerably smaller now that it has broken of pieces of itself to smother many of the turrets on the west side of the Administration building.
Even still, the shield on the building barely flickers under the barrage of wind-driven debris and Legend's continuous blasts. As you begin your new approach, however, you begin to detect a pattern to its strobing. You're uncertain if Gust or Legend can see you now, but they appear to have worked up a rhythm to their attacks.
No longer needing to dodge as wildly anymore, you are free to begin weaving in a holding pattern while you sync up with the pattern. Bladedancer's fingers tap along as your own head bobs to keep pace, and after almost twenty seconds of it you hold up a hand with five fingers outstretched.
All around you, the remaining storm of silver and electric-blue razors funnels into a spiraling drill to keep the remaining errant turret shots at bay. Turning your head briefly, you glimpse the Endslayer poised to strike like a scorpion's tail.
Five
You finish your final loop, barely two-dozen feet over the ruined Philadelphia riverside before you make a severe turn and aim straight for the barely-visible Administration building.
Four
You hug the water, barely inches off the surface as the radiant white of your anima drowns out the rainbow of the laser turrets and Legend's bombardment. A hemisphere of ionized spray nearly twenty feet high trails in your wake.
Three
A 'stunner', resembling a sandbag in the middle of a bola, slams into the grinding drill of razors around the two of you and is shredded to dust.
Two
The remaining turrets on the island are too slow, now, as you rocket over the Island's shoreline and hit the leading edge of a tornado.
One
Thumb still extended, teeth-rattling winds ripping away at Bladedancer's shield, you cock your fist back. Ansh'e, the crystal moon, explodes into being above the two of you - visible for miles around even through the deep brown of the tornado.
Contact
Blasting through the sickly-green shield as it flickers out, your fist plunges forward, a brilliant corona of white lightning surrounding it. As your blow connects, a black rod of soulsteel screams its fury to the world as it hammers home in your elbow, shattering the ceramic white of the PRT's tinkertech-reinforced wall.
Just above where you struck, the massive slab of exotic alloys and your former prison spears into the foot-deep crater left by your blow, sinking nearly another foot deep.
Your momentum - and somehow, Bladedancer's as well - now spent, the two of you get to work on carving out the hole your combined efforts have made. Bladedancer extracts the Endslayer and braces herself against it to avoid being swept away by the increasingly-powerful winds, while in a four-foot circle around your arm the drill of adamant razors digs deeper and deeper into the material without sign of stopping.
Barely noticing the breeze, it takes you barely a handful of seconds to materialize a two-foot-long blade from the armored plate on the top of your hand. Willing your 'Dexterity Boost' charm into effect with a corresponding bloom from your anima, you join the smaller blades in digging out a hole through the four feet of armor plating. With you assisting the effort, it takes less than a dozen seconds before you feel the cut-away circle shift from yours and Bladedancer's efforts.
Retracting your arm and the attached blade, you take a hop, step, and a small jump back.
The moon fills the evening sky again as you repeat your opening strike, this time carrying the four-foot-wide circle of alloys and severed wires with your jet-propelled punch. You and the armored cylinder blast into an unsuspecting cafeteria table and associated chairs before coming to a cacophonous halt five feet inside.
Unconsciously triggering your 'Defensive Boost' charm, you snap off the blade from your fist just in time to roll away from five splashes of containment foam. Continuing to spin, flip, and jump over tables as you work to manifest your flechette launchers, you hear a cackling laugh from Bladedancer over the howl of the winds outside - which corresponds to five simultaneous tears of shearing metal.
You finish your one-hand backflip and stick a three-point landing on top of a cafeteria table, only to observe Bladedancer stalking towards you with a canine-revealing grin while the sparking remnants of the containment foam turrets fall to the floor.
Noting the vastly-depleted swarm of blades, you take a breath and close your eyes, focusing on shedding more palm-sized adamant 'throwing blades'. You're barely done with the first five when you feel Bladedancer's index and middle finger walking them way up the front of your armor until they reach the base of your helmet.
"Off," she growls, playfully. "Now."
Though you have much more pressing matters to attend to, now that you no longer have to wait on others to clear you an opening, it would be a waste of time trying to convince her otherwise.
The crystal helm has barely crested your forehead when Bladedancer yanks down on the pointed 'V' of your gorget while levitating herself up slightly to meet you, hungrily.
Then she pulls away after barely a second, her eyes dancing with wicked playfulness.
"Now we're even."
"Ooho!" comes a boisterous voice from the public address system, recognizable to everyone who lives in Philadelphia. "Now that's quality entertainment! And with it's own backlighting too!"
All mirth is gone from Bladedancer's face now, but you're already spinning around and slamming your helmet back on your head. With a quick mental plea you feel the massive shard throwers begin to manifest on your forearms, complimenting your flechette launchers.
"Vox," Bladedancer growls, accustomed to speaking for your silent armored form. With your focus on generating more blades for her to use again, you do not mind if she carries on with the habit.
"Cunning as always, Bladedancer! But who is this figure of radiant beauty that has so captured your heart? Is it…" Vox trails off, his tone conveying exaggerated shock, "Why, is that Marrow?! Our silent, stalwart savior of bone?"
You simply turn your head to Bladedancer while crossing your arms in silent exasperation. Your partner already has the dual longswords made of your prison's weapons-grade bone armor out from where they had been fastened to her back. Barely holding back a snarl, she continues to pace around, looking for the video cameras so that she can take them out of commission.
"What did you do to Bezalel, Vox? Where are the hostages?!"
"No hostages today, my dear," comes the quick quip, but you hear a tremor of some other emotion running through his voice now, just barely under the enthusiastic showmanship. Regret? "Though there are a few survivors still managing to hold out. Those that didn't made a good show of it, at least!"
This time Bladedancer does snarl. Keeping your focus on manifesting more blades is difficult, over the temptation to loudly condemn such an atrocity, but you manage it.
"I always knew you were insane," Bladedancer finally growls, "but this is enough for a Kill-Order, Vox! Forget the Birdcage!"
"Ah, ah aaah! We're on live TV and radio right now! Is that any way for a Hero to talk?"
Bladedancer flinches, spinning the bone swords in her hands while shifting in her stance - a nervous habit that you've picked up on over the years.
"Bullshit. The shields are up and landlines are cut. There's no way you're getting a signal out of here."
"Oh, my dear, do you think for a second I would actually step foot on that island right now? It was tricky, but when you have multiple Tinkers on-hand, anything is possible!"
Multiple Tinkers? Last you knew, Vox didn't have any Tinkers in his employ, and if he had somehow taken control of Bezalel then that would only leave him with one. You cast a glance at Bladedancer, and her furrowed gaze leads you to believe she caught that as well. However, just as Bladedancer opens her mouth to voice the question, Vox's voice cuts through the rumbling howl still emanating through the hole in the wall.
"But enough of that! There's only so long we can watch Chevalier slice up bird drones and hack his way through walls of containment foam! It's time for the MAIN EVENT!"
The room's lights drop to an ominous red and the security alarm - finally - begins to blare.
"A race to the Security Control room! Do you spend time rescuing the survivors from the autonomous drones? How many rooms have shifted since you were last here? What happens if you don't make it in time?!"
The alarm blares again, and you hear the growing sound of synthetic chirping and squawking from the cafeteria's entrances.
"LET'S FIND OUT! TWENTY MINUTES, GO!"
***
The running commentary from Vox is annoying at first, but proves enlightening when he shifts to talking about Chevalier's efforts after Bladedancer proves to be more than a match for the dozens of bird drones sent your way.
Like the two of you, the base's turret-based defenses are no match for Chevalier's durability and offensive capabilities. Unlike the two of you, however, Chevalier sounds to be having much greater difficulty when the turrets switch from attacking him directly to simply building massive barriers of containment foam to impede his progress.
The walls between rooms are barely two feet thick, and prove to be far more easily torn through by your own augmented fists and Bladedancer's cloud of adamant razors. Chevalier also sounds to have picked up on the tactic once clearing the containment foam barriers became slower for him than simply tearing through walls.
Less than two minutes into your mad dash towards the Security Control room on the second-floor basement, a small cloud of cockroach-looking metallic drones swarms through a ventilation shaft into the air above you. Both you and Bladedancer react instantly, already tearing apart the drones as they appear, until a warbling - yet still familiar - voice echoes through the remaining few dozen in the air.
"Marrow! Bladedancer!" comes a crackling, tinny version of Administrator's frustrated voice. "Stop! It's me!"
Both of you slide to a halt, momentarily broken out of your break-neck pace towards where you think is the nearest stairwell. Your voices echo the same incredulous question as you turn in unison to the remaining swarm:
"Weaver?"
"Aha! It looks like the world-famous Ward is still alive and kicking!" interrupts Vox, his pleasantly-surprised voice booming through the entire base. "And are those Bezalel's drones I see under her sway? Looks like we can add 'mastery of robots' to her ever-growing list of powers!"
As Bladedancer turns to fire a few blades into the few remaining turrets lining this hallway, you have a second to notice that Administrator's normally-coordinated 'swarm' is far more erratic than usual; judging by the way many of the insect-like drones are banging into each other and looping through the air wildly, you get the impression that she does not have a great degree of control over these machines.
Still, within a few moments the clumsy cloud of mechanical insects - most of which are of different types, you see now - land on your helmet and shoulders before scuttling down to settle in a group near the base of your neck.
Unfortunately, you can feel their unnerving, mechanical legs through your armor all too well. It takes a herculean amount of effort to not swat them away.
"I'm stealthed behind Chevalier, carrying Who. I found Trace's body in his room."
The whispered words are still slightly garbled and crackling due to some sort of interference with Administrator's power over insects, but enough of them are near enough to your ears that the whispered explanation is easily understood. Even more, it takes you a half-second to realize that words were not in English, but in Old Realm.
It may be the first time you believe you've ever heard it spoken, but it almost feels more natural than any of the languages you've ever spoken yourself.
Bladedancer seems to note that there is some sort of whispered conversation going on, but after a few seconds of consideration looks back to you with the folds of her mask's forehead wrinkling in what must be a raised eyebrow.
"Keep going straight, take a left and then go through the wall ahead of you."
Shaking your head, you point ahead and take off running again. You hear Bladedancer mutter something, but it's lost to Vox's resumed running commentary.
"Well it looks like wherever Weaver is hiding, she's still able to help out our contestants! But will it be enough?! There's only… FIFTEEN MINUTES LEFT!"
As the pre-recorded audience cheer track booms to life, you're already smashing through the next wall.
This is your first true mission as an Assembly. You will not fail.
***
Navigating the maze of the Administration building's interior is still difficult, however, when the rooms themselves are capable of shifting in place - a defense made to make it nearly impossible for teleporters to port in past all the other defenses, and the reason why Strider wasn't able to simply teleport you inside the base directly. The sensation of a room shifting around you is barely noticeable save for the sudden acceleration and deceleration, though the high rate of change is far beyond what you've ever seen the building capable of normally.
The smears of blood and chunks of crushed bodies lining the hallways and rooms you pass reveal the fates of the workers trapped inside the building. Judging by the pained expression on the upper half of one man from Sales, the rooms themselves may have killed just as many as the drones did.
"We checked Bezalel's room in the Dormitory building already, and that's where we found these drones and his body," Administrator explains as Bladedancer's Endslayer punches a hole clear through the seventh attack-dog drone in this hallway while you plant your glowing fist through the eighth. "We think he turned himself into a drone and took control of the security, but his body's been dead since at least Wednesday."
That revelation breaks your sprint towards your next destination, but you turn the mis-step into a slide as you charge up for another full combo to tear down the wall of containment foam created by the nearby turrets to barricade the stairwell. The dried foam explodes under the onslaught, opening a hole easily large enough for the both of you to dive through.
Just as you motion for Bladedancer to follow you, however, the tinny voice on your neck crackles to life again.
"Wait! Stop!"
You throw out a hand and brace your left arm across Bladedancer's clavicle, catching her before she dives in ahead of you. Just as you both stop, a piercing, warbling shriek echoes through the hole at the same time as a series of pained screams. Just as they trail off, Vox's voice comes bursting through the public address system again.
"Uh oh, viewers! Looks like it's decision time: helpless PRT workers, or unlucky tourists?!"
Administrator's voice pipes up from the drones on your shoulders, speaking English loudly enough for Bladedancer to her hear.
"There's a whole bunch of workers at the bottom of the stairwell getting torn up by cat-drones, but the room just behind you is dropping a wall - there was a group of tourists that had boarded themselves off safely, but now a pack of dog-drones is about to reach them."
"The Wonder Ward is right! Do you save the haple-"
But you don't even give the annoying announcer the time of day, immediately turning and blasting away at the wall behind you with an anima-flaring punch.
As the wall crumbles away from the blow, you leap through the new door and land in a crouch - followed quickly by Bladedancer.
"Civilians first, Vox. Always," Bladedancer snarls into the air of the darkened, cubicle-filled room. "They didn't sign up for this."
As Administrator stated, you see the wall on the far side of the room just finishing folding into the ground while the matching wall on the other side of the hallway folds down as well. Just as the rooms begin to shift together, a series of relieved cheers from somewhere on your left is matched by a chorus of mechanical growls.
"Hell yeah, reinforcem-oh shit!"
Ignoring any cares for property damage or waist-high cover, you ignite your thrusters and plow through the plywood cubicles and high-quality office equipment towards the sounds of the growls. Bladedancer is hot on your heels, diving atop the Endslayer as it skims along the tops of cubicles before she and her trailing cloud of blades slam home on the very real-looking doberman pinscher. It rips in half, while your own target - a wolf of some kind - fails to survive a rocket-reinforced blade of adamant carving its head from its shoulders.
Less than twenty seconds later, the ten other canine robots are in more than twice that many pieces. A few do manage to belch blasts of lasers that glance harmlessly off your own armor, but Bladedancer's right hand gets clipped by a blast hard enough to render it blackened and useless.
You only know about the wound because of Vox's commentary, as she's already covering her hand with enough razor blades from her armor to simulate a functional claw in its place - the bone blade once held in that hand now floating by her side, primed to strike.
Your focus, however, has turned to the seven civilians rising from a darkened corner on the (now) far side of the room.
"Hot damn, you two sure creamed those things!"
You ignore the compliments that begin to follow the initial reaction of cheer, holding up a hand to the approaching shadows.
"Do not approach us," you announce loudly enough to fill the room. "There is a Master involved in this battle. If you mean us no harm, stay where you are."
"And there we have it, that certainly sounds like our Marrow! But…" Vox loudly cuts in, his voice dropping with a mocking lament, "... it looks like the last of the PRT workers just got turned to kitty litter. So sad, being left to die by the heroes they worked to support."
The air freezes in the room at his declaration, but with a chopping motion of your left hand, you dispel the grim falsehood.
"You killed those men and women, Vox. We will never think any different."
"Welllll…" his voice trails off, though you hear some doubt lingering in his voice, "that's for our audience at home to determine! But you better hurry - just ELEVEN MINUTES LEFT!"
All relief in the voices of the tourists has dropped, but their leader's follow-up response is unexpectedly professional and crisp.
"Orders, m'am?"
Your own expression mirrors Bladedancer's, her brow furrowed as she steps forward to address the seven men and women barely recognizable in the gloomy wreckage of the office, barking out curt command.
"Identify yourselves!"
All seven surviving tourists snap to attention in the darkness with practised fluidity. "M'am, First Troop of Philadelphia City Cavalry, m'am!"
It takes a second for both of you to place the name, Bladedancer shaking her head in disbelief. "The private army group? What the hell are- nevermind! There's a clear path out of here now, so get moving!"
"Wait," you intone, holding a hand out, before turning your head slightly in an attempt to talk to your shoulder. "Weaver, can you spare-"
Wordlessly, half the remaining swarm on your upper back clumsily takes to the air and buzzes towards the 'tourists'. They startle at the silver insects, but Weaver's crackling voice comes out through the dozen insects before they move to swat the things out of the air.
"This is Weaver of the Philadelphia Wards. I will lead you to safety, as the rooms in the building are still shifting."
Not waiting for a response, the cloud breaks apart, with at least one bug-drone landing on each person. As this happens, you sigh to yourself and hastily form an adamant shortsword in each hand. You stab the blades into the ground, then carefully extract the two javelin-sized shards from your forearms and jam them into the ground as well. Next to you, Bladedancer picks up on what you're doing; with a sigh, she impales the half-destroyed cubicle next to you with two of her spare shortswords and a pair of small daggers.
"Arm yourself and follow Weaver's instructions!" you loudly call out to the Cavalry soldiers. "We must go."
Not even waiting for a response, you take off back towards the stairwell just as Vox calls out that only ten minutes remain.
Despite your earlier proclamation, you do not fear the civilians even if they are under Master control and armed with your weapons; both you and Bladedancer have more than enough ranged capabilities and defensive methods to deal with the unarmored humans. But with Weaver's guidance and some decent weapons, they may just make it out of the building before the timer winds down.
***
As you near where the Security Control room should be, Bladedancer's Endslayer is pulling more work as a shield than as a weapon. Likewise, you have tried a few times to manifest a shield of adamant for your own use, but for whatever reason it does not last anywhere near as long as your own condensed armor.
It was expected that the A-Class drones would be kept to the end, but you never realized just how many Bezalel had in reserve. Armored bears with containment foam breath and EMP missile racks, packs of simian-drones capable of wielding automatic rifles and waging guerilla warfare, and a least one pride of lions and panthers capable of tearing through walls with blazing claws and laser-beam tails.
Your progress would have halted completely if it were not for the timely reunion with Chevalier, though after his dynamic entry through a wall to sever the armor bear's head, it became clear that his own race had not been kind to him.
"You're bleeding, Chevy," Bladedancer quips, though her voice is uncharacteristically serious. And for good reason: blood has leaked out of the front and sides of his helmet, while his silver-and-gold armor is charred and pitted from acid, fire, lasers, and stunner rounds. Bits of white containment foam still poke out around his lower body from where he was unable to scrape it away, and he is clearly favoring his right arm and leg.
"He can't hear right now, and can only barely see," comes the voice of Weaver through a mass of robotic insects floating in front of him like a clumsy navigational arrow. "The sonic attack from the cats in the stairwell hit him hard."
"But the man just... keeps... going! You gotta love it, folks!" comes Vox's unwelcome opinion through the speakers. Both you and Bladedancer don't bother replying, though you make sure to fall into stride with Philadelphia's Protectorate leader as he gives the two of you a wave and follows the arrow of mechanical insects.
Pushing aside the feelings of pride, respect, and relief at seeing Robert preserving in the face of such adversity
"Are you here, Administrator?" you utter under your breath to the five bugs left on your shoulder. They buzz lightly before her voice breaks through in a whisper.
"I'm a few steps back from you, now, still carrying Who. We need to hurry, she's lost a lot of blood and her vitals are barely there. Security room is just ahead on the right, but I can't see what's inside."
"Where are your swarms? Why the machines?"
"Only a few dozen living bugs were inside the building by the time you arrived - I had a lot in the vents watching everything, but whoever's controlling things poured some sort of insecticide through the vents that killed them all. I think the PRT has security just for me, now. I feel special."
You nod, which is followed by what almost sounds like a warbling grumble from the tiny, synthetic insects. "If it wasn't for my experiment with Dragon today, I wouldn't even be able to control these drones, either, though I can barely do it right now. They hardly register to my charm at all."
Further discussion is cut off when your group finally reaches the armored door to the Security Control room. Chevalier slams his cannonblade into the door before anyone can react, only for the blade to bounce off the flickering green effect that pops up around the entire room - door and surrounding wall.
"Nuh uh uh!" Vox taunts from the speakers above. "You fine heroes wouldn't make it that easy for someone to get into the security room, so why should we? Better hurry up, though! Only TWO MINUTES LEFT!"
Sharing a glance, all three of you try unleashing your most powerful attacks in one coordinated assault. Though the timing of your anima-flaring punch with the two oversized blades is perfect, once again your attacks merely cause the shield to flicker.
Over the next thirty seconds, the three of you attempt a series of staggering assaults in an attempt to catch the shield when it flickers between hits, but this smaller shield appears to be able to take continuous assault more easily than the larger one. Or was it just because the larger shield had been under so much continuous fire?
After a dozen more seconds of attempts, you no longer have enough essence to perform a full combo. Just as you are about to speak up to ask Administrator for assistance, a rough hand forms in front of Chevalier, while the bugs on your shoulder loudly exclaim, "Wait! Let me try something!"
"Better hurry up, Weaver! ONE MINUTE LEFT!" comes Vox egging through the public address system.
Then, in a rising series of whiring clicks and mechanical clicking, the door to the security room folds up and disappears into some unseen point of space roughly chest-high. Barely two seconds later, you hear the sound of buttons being pressed and the fizzling of ionized air as the forcefield powers down.
"Whoa-ho! Was that Weaver?! Has she been here all along? What a surprise, folks!"
Vox's exclamations are coming from inside the room, now. But as the three of you sprint into the now-open room and survey the Security room, the only sign of the villain is the dozens of security monitors in the living-room-sized control center - each switching from their various, gruesome shots of the massacres within the four buildings, to Vox himself.
The zoot-suited villain is adorned in a deep purple outfit, and the VTV logo can be seen on a backdrop behind him. A picture-in-picture view of yourself, Chevalier, and Bladedancer in the security room can be seen taking up the bottom-left quarter of the display, so you imagine that this is what must be being broadcast live.
A ten-foot-tall, octopus-like drone sits in the far side of the room, though from the antenna-looking protrusions from its eight raised tentacles you gather that this drone is how he's been able to somehow transmit a signal out of the otherwise-impenetrable Island. The drone doesn't appear to be making any hostile moves, but the mangled and charred bodies of the seven PRT workers formerly manning the control stations shows that it is far from harmless.
The three of you exchange glances as the screens around you fill with Vox's grinning, masked visage, but Chevalier holds up a hand and points to himself before anyone has a chance to open their mouths. Without looking for a response, Chevalier strides over to the far wall while the rest of you cover him - your hands raised with flechette and shard launchers primed, while a cloud of finger-long razors shielding Chevalier from the nearby drone.
The shining white eyes of the octopus drone follow you, and they way the image of you in Vox's video matches its movements indicates that it is the camera he is using in this room. Otherwise, it makes no move to stop you.
Reaching the console in the wall, Chevalier takes off the glove on his right hand and places it on the horizontal scanner. After a few seconds, the red lights all turn green in a sequence, and the scanner itself falls away to reveal an old-school power switch. As Chevalier rests his hand on the switch, however, a spiraling mechanism extends from the wall and envelops his entire arm.
You hear Chevalier heave a sigh, then his shoulder twists and the entire room goes black.
"CONGRATULATIONS!"
Vox's boisterous cheer echoes from the humming octopus drone, just as red lights flicker on - a sign that the backup generators are still intact.
Turning to the van-sized octopus drone, you watch as the space between its eyes folds open to reveal a large LCD TV screen, roughly fifty inches across.
Vox's grinning face leers through the image at your group, and the illumination provided by the drone's eyes is enough to keep the three of you visible in the bottom-left of the screen.
Party poppers are going off in the background, and you hear the whine of a few party buzzers being blown as well. Vox raises his diamond-tipped cane and touches it to the brim of his wide-brimmed fedora in a mock salute.
"I have to say, that was some absolutely riveting action! Marrow's new world-class agility and thunderous strength was truly spectacular, as well! I'm sure our audience loved watching you all work, and will have a blast talking about Marrow's new abilities on the forums! However, I'm sure everyone noticed how similar your glowing effects look like Weaver's… is there something you'd like to share with the audience?"
You remain silent, keeping a guarded stance while angling to keep both the door and the drone in your line of sight.
Bladedancer, however, is eager to answer for you in her own vicious growl.
"We've got nothing to say to you, Vox. You've killed hundreds of people today, and you can be sure that the rest of Philadelphia is going to let you hang for what you did. We're coming for you."
For the first time in the seven years you've seen his acts, Vox's smile breaks completely. It's only for split-second, but a glimpse of genuine sympathy flashes across his face before he dips his head down and chuckles.
"No one's time in the lime-light is forever, my dear. And if you're going to go out, why not with a bang?"
Only silence follows Vox's comment, the partying in the background having died off as well. Bladedancer shifts in her combat stance, but only scowls at Vox's words. When the domino-masked villain lifts his head to look into the camera again, it's with a wistful smile.
"Philadelphia, it's been an hon-"
His words cut off in a strangled, wet gargle as Vox's neck suddenly splits open from ear-to-ear.
The villain steps back, eyes wide for a moment in raw pain and shock, before you see his eyes blaze with fury at something off-screen. His face turns to a snarling, bitter grimace, before Vox raises his cane and jams it underneath his chin.
In a blast of light, bone, blood, and brains, Vox's head disappears from his shoulders. His body slumps out of sight of the camera instantly.
For a few moments, silence reigns in the security room and through the drone's speakers.
A slow, considering clap breaks the stillness.
"A showman to the end. I can respect that."
Many emotions have gripped you this day. Euphoric joy, blossoming love, incendiary rage, steadfast determination, and creeping horror.
None compare to the dread that has just filled your entire being, for everyone in North America can recognize that voice. Disaffected yet charming, always with a hint of a knowing smile, even when it's perpetrating the most horrific atrocities ever witnessed by man.
The camera pans slowly, revealing a part of the VTV studio done up with a dizzying array of hanging gadgetry, all set on a backdrop that's been painted to appear like some kind of metal-industrial cathedral. Aluminum bleachers have been arranged like pews, though each bleacher has been painted in vibrant gold, black, and silver. Well over twenty people fill the pews, though from the back they look to be mostly to be children and young adults.
Each one appears to have some kind of wiring and tubing coming out of their heads, with some of it running down into their faces and necks.
At the end of the 'aisle' there is a barely-raised dais with a lectern fashioned out of junk metal and painted similarly to the pews. Standing behind it is a man in his late-to-mid thirties, wearing a white oxford shirt with the top four buttons open to display an attractively-sculpted chest. Around his neck is a stole of woven metals and blue crystals, with the arms of the stole lifted up by the man's clapping arms.
The man himself is smiling his devilishly-handsome smile through a neatly-trimmed full goatee, with a few locks of his tousled black hair trailing down his forehead.
"But fear not, good people of Philadelphia!" grins Jack Slash, raising his hands up as if to bestow a blessing upon his worshipers, "Autochthon has spoken! The Reckoning is nigh!"
Jerking in unison, the members of the congregation all clap once.
"No…" comes the strangled protest of Administrator beside you, though you cannot take your eyes off the screen to regard her.
"Only those judged worthy can survive His coming, and we blessed few in the Slaughterhouse 9 have been charged by His most divine instrument to enact His judgement! Behold: the Black Eye!"
Jack Slash raises his hands even higher, and with the sound of screaming pistons and sparking electronics, a platform behind him lowers from off-camera.
Sitting atop a pink, lacy pillow is an enormous black pearl, easily six feet across. The lights of the studio illuminate it only barely, as its shimmering, glossy surface appears to drink the light more than it reflects it.
You hear a rushed intake of breath from beside you, but no exhalation. The act confirms your fear, and you struggle to think coherently under its pressure.
"Now begins the first, most righteous holiday to honor the Great Maker on our humble planet! For the following nine days, each of our nine chosen will seek to test this glorious city in the manner they see fit, and by the holiday's end only those worthy to serve and worship when He arrives will be spared!"
Stepping down past the lectern, Jack Slash begins walking towards the camera through the aisle, before stopping and extending a hand to the child on his right. His hand guides the head of the child, with its head full of tubes and wires, so that its profile can be seen.
The expression on Missy Byron's face is blank, save for a rictus grin forced onto it by a series of bloody staples.
Even Bladedancer's razors have stilled in the air now, and you hear a sob from your right. Tentatively, you reach out and touch where you think Administrator is standing, which causes her invisibility to drop. You see now that her hoodie and sweatpants are nearly completely turned red with blood from the amputated body of Who she has been carrying on her back. Her face is twisted in agonized tears, but she does not look away from the horror on the screen.
You endured this brand of atrocity before, when the Slaughterhouse 9 visited Philadelphia all those years ago. You have lost countless friends and allies over the years, but those first few victims of Jack Slash and his psychopathic monsters still haunt your dreams.
"We will find them," you whisper in Old Realm, putting more faith into your voice than you feel right now.
Administrator nods, and you see the resolution settle on her face.
"These few have already been judged worthy," Jack Slash begins again, looking back up to the camera while resuming his stride towards it, leaving Missy's face stuck in its pose. "But many more have failed even our preliminary tests - as evidenced by the trial that just took place on Protectorate Island. But our time with our heroes is now at an end."
Raising his hands, Jack Slash grips the sides of camera and twists it so that only his upper body is visible. His eyes seem to bore straight through you with manic intensity, even through the television screen.
"So! Before the first Day of Slaughter begins, we have a message to our heroes on the Island - their prize, for delighting us all with their wondrous abilities! Especially Weaver and Marrow, two more of Autochthon's chosen."
His eyes dance to the side.
"Bakuda, if would you be so kind as to make a monument of this wondrous victory?"
The hideous, maniacal cackle of a woman can be heard just as Administrator straightens up and screams.
"BOMB!"
Blazing what bare essence reserves you have, you grab Administrator and Bladedancer before throwing them on top of Chevalier's restrained form and wrapping your arms around the group.
The moon of your totemic anima flares, a crackling forcefield erupts from your outstretched hands, and the world turns to glass.
***
FPoP Clarity Gains: +3
FPoP Clarity Losses: -1 (Intimacy Channel [-1, loss limit reached], Compassion Roll [Failed])
FPoP New Clarity: 3 (-1 to non-Intimidate social rolls)
FPoP Willpower Spent: 21
FPoP Willpower Regained: 9
FPoP Willpower Remaining: 3
FPoP - Intimacy: Bladedancer/Kali (Love) [3/3] GAINED!
FPoP - Intimacy: Strider/Kyo (Respect) [1/3]
FPoP - Intimacy: Jack Slash (Divine Wrath) [1/3]
FPoP - Athletics +1 Training Interval [2/6]
FPoP - Athletics (Ramming Speed ●○○) NOW AVAILABLE!
FPoP - Awareness +1 Training Interval [1/6]
FPoP - Craft +2 Training Interval [6/6]
FPoP - Craft (Shards ●○○) GAINED!
FPoP - Dodge +2 Training Intervals [4/6]
FPoP - Integrity +1 Training Interval [1/6]
FPoP - Investigation +1 Training Interval [4/6]
FPoP - Occult +1 Training Interval [1/6]
FPoP - Occult ●○○○○ GAINED!
FPoP - Melee +1 Training Interval [2/6]
FPoP - War +1 Training Interval [1/6]
EOA - Integrity +1 Training Interval [1/6]
EOA - Lore (Artificial Intelligence ●○○) GAINED!
EOA - Medicine +2 Training Interval [6/6] NOW AVAILABLE!
EOA - Stealth +2 Training Intervals [2/6]
EOA - War (Parahumans ●●○) NOW AVAILABLE!
EOA - Artifact (Dragonsuit Mk. XXVII) ●●○○○ GAINED!
EOA - Artifact (Aisha's Severed Limbs) ●○○○○ GAINED!
EOA - Artifact (Bezalel's Insect Drones) ●○○○○ NOW AVAILABLE!
EOA - Artifact (WCM's Hover Throne) ●●○○○ NOW AVAILABLE!
THE FOLLOWING AVAILABLE PURCHASES WILL BE LOST IF NOT PURCHASED BEFORE 8.1 IS POSTED:
EOA - Archery/Firearms (Sniping ●○○)
EOA - Presence (Swarms ●●●)
And with that, we end our time with First Prayer of Perfection. For now, at least - we may have votes to decide to pop on over to other Assembly POVs later on. After a closing Interlude for this Arc, we're going to have a quick detour to Arc 7.5 where I'll be tweaking a few recent, audience-provided omakes to make them canonical - they'll give us insight as to how others have fared in the last week, away from Marrow/Vajra and Taylor. Before they all die horribly, that is.
Just kidding.
(Maybe.)
Now might be a good time to discuss which characters are worth shoving into the Cradle for conversion, if worst comes to worst. You can only convert one person at a time, and the process takes a week, so if you have multiple dying candidates you'll need to prioritize!
Back to Taylor in 8.1, just in time for a fun holiday with Jack Slash!
VOTING FOR 8.1 WILL BE INCLUDED WITH THE FINAL INTERLUDE OF ARC 7.
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*is experiencing incoherent rage*
How does Jack know about Autochthon?! Also, he just torpedoed our recruitment efforts completely. Not happy at all.
How does Jack know about Autochthon?! Also, he just torpedoed our recruitment efforts completely. Not happy at all.
Jack Folstam
Refinement of Copper
What do you mean? He just gave us mandatory candidates! He's helping.
Gromweld
Learning By Mistake
That emoji is Councilor Sparatus from Mass Effect, and he's making a quoting gesture. It's immortalized because of his constant use of the gesture like so:Here's what I think of Jack Slash now.
"Ah, yes,
'Reapers'. The immortal race of sentient starships allegedly waiting in dark space. We have dismissed this claim."Still, it's funny to imagine that Sparatus is flicking Commander Shepard off every time, too.
I'm really not liking even more unnecessary fanservice here, to be honest. It's particularly jarring when contrasted with the rest of the content. That's really put me off following this quest any more.
Apart from that. Well, that's gone to shit.
Apart from that. Well, that's gone to shit.
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Quest
The Great One
- Location
- Everywhere
I know.That emoji is Councilor Sparatus from Mass Effect, and he's making a quoting gesture. It's immortalized because of his constant use of the gesture like so:
"Ah, yes,
Still, it's funny to imagine that Sparatus is flicking Commander Shepard off every time, too.
I noticed that it looks like he's flipping someone off a few days ago and couldn't resist using it.
Didn't that sniper rifle skill get changed to just 'sniping'?
Gromweld
Learning By Mistake
Whoops! Serves me right for copying that blindly. Fixed!
Are we really going to start complaining about fanservice in an S9 arc? There are more important things to bitch about. Like the fact that Jack Slash has single handedly demolished any chance we have of convincing the public that we aren't the heralds of a dark God.
I'm not too big on Exalted lore either, but is this the point where we start worrying severely about the Viator? Jack "converting" to Autochthon's worship is highly disturbing, especially when it's this fucked up.
Edit: Bakuda in the fucking Slaughterhouse Nine. I know she's only a hairsbreadth away in canon, but right now I'm sitting at my desk repeating four letter words in alternating rage and horror.
I'm not too big on Exalted lore either, but is this the point where we start worrying severely about the Viator? Jack "converting" to Autochthon's worship is highly disturbing, especially when it's this fucked up.
Edit: Bakuda in the fucking Slaughterhouse Nine. I know she's only a hairsbreadth away in canon, but right now I'm sitting at my desk repeating four letter words in alternating rage and horror.
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- Location
- Tokyo, Japan
Best I can see it is to somehow use Jack's claims to make him into a 'sect' of the belief in the Great Maker that is not canon, like how other religious did before with rival sects in history. Still, messy ordeal.
And I'm actually feeling sorry for Vox, a showman to the end indeed, though it took me awhile to remember who he was at first.
@Gromweld
For the record, I mostly don't share those problems. Clarity was fine, but we didn't understand what the rules for it were, and it seemingly made our character hard to control, so that was eventually very frustrating. The story-writing was fine, it was the game-playing that was problematic, and poisoned the well.
I think the perspective shift is a good idea. That said, I was definitely more interested in what Taylor and Dragon were doing together last time than in what Marrow was doing. As long as the POV character is the one doing the most interesting things, it isn't a problem.
I found the teen-sex-comedy moments to be funny, rather than a problem, so I think you've been handling this just fine.
*bows*
You're too kind. You and Ridtom provided most of the ideas, I just punched up the phrasing a bit and compacted the word count.
For the record, I mostly don't share those problems. Clarity was fine, but we didn't understand what the rules for it were, and it seemingly made our character hard to control, so that was eventually very frustrating. The story-writing was fine, it was the game-playing that was problematic, and poisoned the well.
I think the perspective shift is a good idea. That said, I was definitely more interested in what Taylor and Dragon were doing together last time than in what Marrow was doing. As long as the POV character is the one doing the most interesting things, it isn't a problem.
I found the teen-sex-comedy moments to be funny, rather than a problem, so I think you've been handling this just fine.
*bows*
You're too kind. You and Ridtom provided most of the ideas, I just punched up the phrasing a bit and compacted the word count.