Gromweld said:
You've struggled out of the ruins of the three-story office building that had partly crumbled on you from the shockwave of those last attacks, so you're able to dodge the shots as you accelerate to the edge of his two-thousand foot range; you're not certain if the appearance of reinforcements is going to cause Behemoth to go back to his more potent arsenal, but you're not interested in taking those chances.
Dodge, perhaps Athletics to get out of the rubble?
No, those are scale-sized forcefields all around her body. Well, that certainly explains how she gets so much… lift for her assets. The two-foot long horn of curled, shimmering forcefields atop her head almost distracts from her otherwise-naked appearance.
Awareness? Is now the time, Taylor?
You had an idea to loan Eidolon and Legend your Incomparable Efficiency Upgrade, but you're not certain you'd last long enough to get close to them at the moment, what with the wild display of powers filling the air around them.
Maybe something here. War to both consider the bonuses of applying IEU and the risks of getting there?
"Weaveaaaahhh!"
You barely make out your name being shouted
Awareness.
Your consciousnesses are so busy pouring over your mental lists of capes present, trying to catalog their powers and affiliations, and hoping that they rapidly get over the terror your anima display is causing, that the lone consciousness you have dedicated to body control barely reacts in time to avoid getting blasted out of the sky by another arc of superheated plasma. The bolt surges through your suit and sears into your skin through the many layers of ablative coating, before continuing on its path to blast out a sizable chunk of an low-rent apartment complex farther up the street.
Lore (Parahumans) and maybe War, then a failed dodge.
Idly, one of your consciousnesses notices that a contrail of white smoke (visible because of the contrast against the black smoke of your anima) is flowing from your hair. You can't bring yourself to care about such a superficial concern at the moment, but a quiet part of you acknowledges that once-upon-a-time it would have been deeply distressing.
Awareness, sign of increasing Clarity? Or Conviction?
your form still pouring out streaks of blue-and-black lightning, acrid black plumes of smoke, and the echoing, whispered cries of tortured souls fills the air around you, so you suspect Dragon doesn't want her suit to freak out like everyone else did as you passed over their heads.
Warning, warning: our anima is
fucking everything up, warning.
"Dragon. Behemoth destroying shelters. Attempting to draw me out. Shelters must be evacuated."
Looking down at the quadrupedal Endbringer Dragonsuit as it lands on the street below you, it's difficult to judge Dragon's reaction to your concise summary of current events beyond the long pause before her response. Certainly she must understand the need for efficiency in both speech and action in such a dire time?
Presence, affected by Clarity, Dragon is curious. Did we fail a roll (sense motive?) to understand why she was curious/strained/affected?
Your house otherwise is exactly how you last left it, almost three and a half weeks ago.
I need to work out a timeline for this. Also, we start social combat, this time with a clarity
boost.
I wonder how Iris recognized our house. Because we spent the night/meditated there, so there might be trace Essence?
You are curious why that never occurred to you before, as it seems so logical right now; you made the connection practically as Iris was masterfully laser-etching his explanation into your bedroom wall.
Not sure if this is a check or fluff.
When your swarm sense makes out what is being displayed on the projection screen set up against the PRT HQ's wall, slowly scrolling up through an updating list of names, numbers, and statuses.
That "when" is out of place.
Your clock shows 11:48PM. It's only been twelve minutes since you left the battlefield, and already fourteen are dead.
Eek.
But your mind cares little for the hopes, dreams, and families lost in this brutal calculus of war. No, that would be a waste of their sacrifice to sink down, hug your knees to your chest, and weep - like you see Panacea doing behind the medical tent. Those still in the command center tent are grim and strung-out, and you can already see the pressure of the task before them wearing down upon their shoulders.
Yay Clarity.
You begin a small loop around the area, high above the floodlight-lit camps that squat against the PRT Headquarters. Your mind is calculating the names and faces you saw gathered in the large mass that teleported to battle Behemoth, reviewing known abilities and combat tactics. In your split consciousnesses, you group capes with similar powers, or maybe design small squads based on specific tactics, or even just allow some capes the freedom to cut loose like they've never done before. But by the time you have swept the seven blocks all around the PRT Headquarters and filled the sky with millions of insects, you are finally ready to bring your knowledge to bear on the battle at-hand.
Lore (Parahumans) + War.
Alighting atop the PRT Headquarters, you have your sky-blanketing swarm fan out to give you total coverage of your Shard of Perfect Administration's range, and then solidify the extra mass of bugs a half-dozen swarm-clones.
War (Swarms).
You nod once, then absorb your armor while only extracting your pajamas to avoid causing a stir. After only a handful of seconds, you are once again exposed to the world.
Clarity on the bold part. Not sure what would cover realising that we can just absorb/extrude our armour like that -- Lore? Craft?
Don't think this stuff here needs outright social combat as we're not disagreeing.
And Lisa over on the far side of the tent, pouring over some maps with two PRT officers. Correction: she is Tattletale, now.
Might be Awareness to locate people, probably not necessary. Same for working out that we should call her Tattletale.
It takes you a split-second to put together her name and powers from Parahumans Online and the internal PRT Parahuman Database.
Lore (Parahumans).
Unfortunately, the moment several of the capes in the tent turn your way, you can immediately see some react with a twitch, spasm, or grimace - likely a sign of their Thinker powers going haywire just trying to analyze you. You keep your distance from WCM, as her powers reportedly work through touch, which is easier said than done with the way she's casually tapping people around her in a manner that would be comforting to those unaware of her lesser-known power: the ability to override nervous systems just as easily as she manipulates computers and other electronics.
Maybe a check on the anima interference. Maybe an Athletics check to not touch WCM.
You've already surreptitiously tagged every person in and around the command tent with a few flies, but getting bugs into the medical tent is proving difficult with the ambient mist-sprayers filling the only opening with a chemical concoction that is blinding your bugs' senses; the decontamination chemicals don't appear to be very bug-friendly. You keep looking for an opening while the majority of your thought trains focus on the matter at hand: detailing your experiences tonight ever since being thrown to the ground in Vista's room by the Protectorate Base's first shudder.
War (Swarms), success and failure.
You're uncertain if your anima display will burst back into terror-inducing mode if you spend anything at the moment,
Might be a hidden Occult failure to come to a realisation about our anima.
Focusing on the printed map of Brockton Bay proper, your two marker-filled hands trace the paths of your flight and Behemoth's destruction
Not sure what this kind of precision memory would be.
There are a few comments from the Thinkers - mostly Tattletale, who looks almost sorrowful when her eyes flit over to you - while you recount every dodged strike, every decision made, every obliterated house, apartment complex, store, church, or factory.
Awareness or Investigation to notice Tattletale is 'sorrowful', but we don't follow through to wonder why. Also, holy crap.
You do not move your head or cease your drawing on the maps to answer, as it is clearly unnecessary in this situation.
"Behemoth control range greater than insect control range. Risk too great."
Clarity.
WCM is also on the other side of the table, having briskly retreated from your presence after finally managing to casually bump against you during your recounting of events.
Sounds like WCM's Athletics beat ours, perhaps through a surprise attack.
Almost in time with your armband's activation, the Casualty List flickers behind you briefly and updates itself. Your focus remains on the battle map as you draw the path dictated by the new casualties' locations, but you spare three mental threads to review the lost powers and what it means for the battle moving forward.
War, Lore (Parahumans). Interesting that Cuff is here.
Judging by the surge in vibrations your bugs can feel through the medical tent, one (or more) of the mass-teleporters must have just arrived with a new batch of wounded and dead.
Awareness (Swarms).
"Teleporters deliver casualties here; deliver healed, tactical updates to battlefield?"
War.
Some social stuff follows.
Outside, you have already absorbed your pajamas and extruded your armor, ignoring the looks your briefly clothless form attracted, and leap into the air on waves of anti-gravitational waves.
Awkward phrasing at the end there.
You wait five seconds, then begin to push Incomparable Efficiency Upgrade applications to them through the insects hiding in their costumes. The world around your body drops away into a billowing cloud of blue-and-black lightning-streaked smoke, from which erupts the massive Design Weaver of your Iconic Anima. There are a number of alarmed exclamations from observers below, but your six-fold mind is focused on the clones below and observing the reactions of the now-augmented Thinkers.
Suck it, Glenn!
You carefully monitor their gasps and almost reverent murmurs as they each appear to be looking upon the world with new eyes
Checking for poor reactions. Awareness, maybe something else.
Finally, the silence is broken by Tattletale's maniacal laugh, which draws a few looks from the PRT officers but the other Thinkers appear oblivious or unconcerned.
Admit it, Tattletale, you always wanted an excuse to laugh like that.
"Oh, you naughty girl. You just changed the game."
Which is why Behemoth is trying to kill us, obviously.
Ignoring Tattletale's comment, your six consciousnesses - through your six bug-clones - begin to lay out the tactics you've pieced together from the battle so far and your own experiences against the Endbringer.
Impel deceased, AT-18 - RECOVERED
Zun Tsu deceased, AT-18 - RECOVERED, UNREVIVABLE
It's time to turn this battle around.
War checks, go!
By far, the most dramatic change to the battle effort has been your augmentation of Strider himself with Incomparable Efficiency Upgrade - the six-fold consciousness upgrade resulting in a nearly-transcendental upgrade in his teleporting speed and carrying capacity, allowing entire formations of attackers to appear, attack, and disappear in almost the same heartbeat.
OK, we're hax. Just gotta admit that here.
In the precious few minutes between Strider teleporting into the med-bay while in the process of being struck by a lightning bolt,
Strider's pretty badass too.
Worse, it appears Behemoth has burrowed into the ground, taking Alexandria with him in the process - attempts to dive after or unearth the Endbringer and his Triumvirate hostage proving futile. The signal disruption does not abate, however, so Behemoth is assumed to be digging to a new location.
Worried he was going to choke Alexandria to death here.
BEHEMOTH uses DIG!
"What does this power of yours do, Weaver? Those you've used it on thus far have shown incredible gains in their abilities, but you must understand that the legacy of Teacher is hard one to forget.
Brief social combat. Missing closing quotation mark here.
Might be a Lore (Parahumans) check on Teacher, but we'd likely have been specifically educated on him because of the similarities.
"I will. Don't push yourself, Eidolon - we still need you for the rest of this battle."
LEGEND uses FORESHADOWING!
It's super effective!
With a focus of will, you withdraw Armsmaster's benediction and push the charged essence through the link connecting your mind and the small fly on Eidolon's back. With a bit more focus, you push further, into the Hero himself. Your billowing, towering Iconic Anima explodes into existence above you, causing Legend to flinch and move away warily while keeping his eyes on Eidolon.
Almost instantly after receiving the power, however, Eidolon starts with a gasp audible through his helmet, causing Legend to tense and point an arm at you.
WEAVER uses ANIMA POWER!
It's not very effective....
WEAVER uses INCOMPARABLE EFFICIENCY UPGRADE!
It's super effective!
EIDOLON became confused!
EIDOLON hurt himself in his confusion!
Your swarm provides the sensory feedback before you feel it yourself, giving you enough warning to accelerate your mind to deal with the attack.
CENOTAPH uses SURPRISE ATTACK!
WEAVER uses SWARM SENSE!
WEAVER saw the SURPRISE ATTACK coming!
It's not very effective....
"Die, so that my daughter, and this city, can know peace."
Guess he doesn't think we're Taylor any more....
Before you can respond, the building around you explodes in a torrent of lightning and magma.
BEHEMOTH used DIG!
Your various consciousnesses are too busy directing the masses of parahumans attempting to rally after Behemoth's sneak attack to ponder your father (now calling himself "Cenotaph"), his words, or his betrayal. You only tangentially noted his slinking, shadowy form pass out of range of your swarm sense, your multi-tasking through your swarm being pushed to its limits as you attempt to coordinate the parahumans left standing from the PRT Headquarters' explosion.
War, Awareness.
Unfortunately, it appears your immunity to random powers applies to Strider's teleportation power as well
We really need to meditate/raise Occult.
Still dripping with somehow-harmless molten rock, you clumsily attempt to dodge Behemoth's lightning bolts for a almost a full minute before slamming into a toppled building.
Dodges. Failed Athletics check.
As you try to regain your speed and altitude, Behemoth seizes the opportunity with a nearly point-blank, double-handed attack, drilling two massive blasts of electrical current straight to your chest. Even your accelerated mind struggles to keep up with what is happening when the force of the bolts sends you spiraling out of control and into the bay.
Ironically, the magma from Behemoth's eruption saves your life, disintegrating while absorbing the majority of the bolts' harmful energies. As you devote one consciousness to struggle free of the rapidly-hardening shell of rock encasing your suit, you turn the rest of your minds towards using your still-significant swarm to broadcast orders to the rapidly mobilizing parahumans.
"Spread out! Shields up to cover the medical tents!"
Not sure what the first paragraph is: referencing an external penalty?
Last line is War (Swarms) maybe with Presence(Swarms).
Before anyone can react to your orders, however, Behemoth raises his arms in a show of rage and triumph, roars a bone-rattling challenge, then rears back for the start of a charge… until he is blasted off his feet by an almost equally-massive, flame-wreathed metal dragon.
BEHEMOTH uses CHA--
LUNG uses INTERRUPT!
Eidolon appears to be on the ground, holding his head, so you reclaim the power that appears to be rendering him insensate.
Unfortunately, all this does is make him fall over.
Whoops. Not sure what kind of check would go here. Occult, Lore (Parahumans), Medicine all could fit I suppose.
This gets a great number of alarmed cries from the massed defenders, but their calls of alarm are quickly drowned out by a thunderclap of force that pulverizes the remaining buildings standing near the wreckage of the PRT Headquarters.
Then, rising from behind the comatose form of the great metallic dragon, Behemoth raises his bloody, battle-worn arms and propels Lung's body into the mass of defenders like a cannonball.
BEHEMOTH uses DYNAKINESIS!
LUNG is stunned!
BEHEMOTH uses FLING!
LUNG is FLUNG!
Shyfter deceased, BA-24. Triumph down, BA-24. Hookwolf down, BA-24. Ryune down, BA-24. Crickett down, BA-24. Bob down, BA-24. Whirlygig down, BA-24.
It's super effective!
