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Glorious Shotgun Princess (ME/Exalted) Thread #2

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    • The Reapers are mighty. They are ancient, and many, and powerful. They have ruled the galaxy from the shadows, forcing it to develop along their lines for some unknown purpose, to create some sort of thing which is known only to them. They have mastered the technology of the Mass Effect, and have used it with millions of years to create things which can not be equaled.

    But for all the power, all the numbers, all the wonders of technology that they put into themselves and their avatars, they are machines. And their magic is the magic of imitation.

    Bracing a foot as Seeker leaps at her, a half dozen arms extended towards her, Jane moves with instinct. Strands of red hair cross her vision as she moves, but they do not obscure her sight. They focus her like fire, as the name calls out in her mind like thunder breaking clouds.

    Essence Overwhelming.

    Her hands move faster than she should. Where she should move like a soldier, she moves like an ancient master. Hands deflect each blow with supernal speed and accuracy. The talons and claws are tossed to the side, leaving Seeker open and eyes wide as she crosses that final distance.

    Ox Stunning Blow.

    Her fist swings out and catches the Reaper across the face. Sunlight suffuses the avatar construct, snapping her to the side and making her spin before landing in a crouch in arms reach of Shepard.

    Rising, exhaling stale, ancient air, the dancing corpse at the heart of Seeker leaps with a kick. Jane opens her arms wide, standing still. The kick goes wide and Seeker lashes out with her arms in reach of Jane as she passes. Each blow misses by fingerwidths.

    Hammer On Iron.

    Jane's fists clench, and she moves. Not a single punch, not a single strike. But her arms blur, even as Seeker tries to sluggishly dodge. Four impacts echo in the chamber. Four bursts against metal and meat. Four bow waves blasting away the blood rain around Seeker, and she stumbles back.

    Gasping and wheezing, eyes wide and glowing red, the Reaper, the former Exalt, reaches out with her one normal, organic hand. Her face twists into one of terror, pain. Pleading, towards Shepard.

    And she sees, in her minds eye. Memories of uncountable lives, all of them ending. Each one, facing something like her. Either before an ancient avatar made of Voidtech and Essence. Or before the flaring main cannon of an overhead Reaper. Or facing down the war form of the Viator.

    Each of them speaks, and Jane listens. Even as she listens to the tiny voices around her, the same ones which suffuse her with sunlight. Each of the ones who preceded her, each one who faced the Reapers, say the same thing before they died and released the Exaltation. Each of them made the same vow.

    "The next one will stop you."

    Jane stares into the eyes of Seeker. What the Reaper sees makes her drop the pleading visage, and roar in the tone of scraping glass before leaping at her.

    Fists of Iron.

    Golden light gathers around Jane's right hand. Summoned up from within, the light flows around her, forming into a halo of gold and green shifting behind her. The golden light and emerald lines run up her form, framing her face. She moves, smooth like liquid, solid as stone, shining the sigil of the Zenith before her like a lighthouse on shore.

    The fist drives true. Rending flesh, rending metal and bone. It slams into Seeker's chest and keeps going, bursting out between her shoulders as the eyes of the Reaper go wide.

    "I will stop you," Jane declares. And she pulls her fist out, and lets the Reaper drop to her feet.
     
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    • Two fingered hands press against the cool, seamless metal. "Here. Here. Here." A sharp intake of breath. "Here, to. Recommend singularity and warp detonations for each one." Quickly walking from the wall, Doctor Solus adjusts the mount on his collar, a rust colored screen floating in front of his left eye.

    Standing in the center of the dome, Liara rubs her hands together and takes a step back, bending her front knee as if a runner's stance. Next to her, Kaidan shrugs and extends a hand. "Doctor, you didn't exactly explain what we're doing," he breathes.

    The salarian holds up a finger. "Have been scanning room. Interesting construction of materials. Most theoretical composition." He pauses. "Wait. Formerly theoretical, but anyway, believe it is connected to the ever present music that sensors picking up." A sharp intake of breath. The doctor paces in front of the two biotics.

    "Mm perhaps there is connection? Direction of drones? Psychological warfare?" Snapping fingers, Mordin nods. "Yes yes yes! Must be for multiple purposes! Attack and defense!"

    Still bowed, still focused on the wall, Liara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Goddess, there's two of them."

    Extending her hands, nodding to Kaidan, blue lightning and flame gathers around them.

    "And," Mordin says, raising a finger, "Begin!"
     
    The best part of all that?

    Harbinger might genuinely believe Sol Freaking Invictus might has shown up. That or Autochan managed to make Sol Mark 2

    Which is basicly the loose condition for any/everyone not on said Sol's side.

    ...Actually, considering it was Autochan... that might...

    (Eyes Wuffles Invictus, realizes Geth count as gods, comprehends what would happen of Autochan worked on buffing up that many heroic gods, then pored them all into a superalchemical/godbody of his own design).

    ...might not be completely wrong on that one ether.
     
    Energy I will give you. However, there are ways around that.

    Dedication is also one I'll consent, but that on can be subbed in with time to an extent.

    Creativity? On that I debate. This is the living embodiment of Invention after all. And if he did it once, saw it done once. Then given the time, and resources, he can do it again. Maybe not the exact same way, maybe not to the exact same result, but considering his very nature, it's not an impossible assumption to make.

    And Autochan's been 'dormant' for a good long time now.
     
    Then again, Bright Star was a Zenith. Meaning when he exalted, he received a direct vision of the Ignis Divine. Which means, even moreso than just fooling him, the idea that the Unconquered Sun has taken the field against him can be pretty intimidating.
     
    Mizuki_Stone said:
    Energy I will give you. However, there are ways around that.

    Dedication is also one I'll consent, but that on can be subbed in with time to an extent.

    Creativity? On that I debate. This is the living embodiment of Invention after all. And if he did it once, saw it done once. Then given the time, and resources, he can do it again. Maybe not the exact same way, maybe not to the exact same result, but considering his very nature, it's not an impossible assumption to make.

    And Autochan's been 'dormant' for a good long time now.
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    Sorry, but no. Auto-kun isn't a primordial anymore, so he isn't the embodiment of anything. He's either a particularly powerful 3Deva given an earlier line or an Incarnae level god now.
     
    Synapse said:
    Autochthon is long gone. What you have there is a god. Creating Sol is beyond his reach.
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    pheonix89 said:
    Sorry, but no. Auto-kun isn't a primordial anymore, so he isn't the embodiment of anything. He's either a particularly powerful 3Deva given an earlier line or an Incarnae level god now.
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    But Harbinger doesn't know that.

    And even if he does, Deus Ex Machina is still around, and even as 'just' an Incarnae, it would not do well to underestimate he who was Autochthon. They left alone one of the architects of creation for hundreds of millennia. That is a lot of time to build the things to build the things to possibly even build the things that could produce something like Sol, and accumulate the raw power and prayer to form one.

    Or you know, punch a hole in reality big enough to call up his old friend who still kinda owes him one.

    I mean, we know that at the very best Wuffles is likely to be at most some sort of Solar equivalent, of his age and experience (which is still fucking terrifying), and more likely is to be more like some sort of bastard hybrid of an alchemical, solar (lite), and god. But you have to know all this stuff is running through Harbi's head right now along with a steady train of 'Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!'
     
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    • The monster crashes to earth, sending up smoke and debris, an impact crater several times it's already immense size. It rises, the golden glow outlining it in the smoke, sluggish at first as it gets its bearings. The militia retreats- to organize, lick its wounds, rearm and repair.

    Three approach it.

    Four arms move with practiced ease and gait, as the ten foot tall man strides alongside the two quarians.

    "Enlightened Geth have made planet fall in Colossi platforms. Organizing with Creator Adienna for artillery strike. Enlightened Geth downloading into human spaceships to aid in repair and targeting on Harbinger." He turns, glancing down to Tali. "We apologize. When our platform was destroyed, we uploaded and overrode command protocols on this platform. We will apologize to Maker Autochthon following this engagement."

    "But." Tali shakes her head. "But that was on the Normandy. How did you get here?"

    "We have also had Geth in your suit access the private folders on your omnitool, and fabricated a copy of the mass relay device you created on the Rayya." Reaching for his belt, Wuffles shows the device; fitting in the palm of his hand, and hence about the size of her forearm. Two prongs on either side, the center rotating in time with faint shifts of blue light. "We apologize for violating your privacy."

    One lavender eyebrow rises. "So, there are still Geth in my suit?" Next to her, Kal shakes his head.

    "We apologize." The lips on the tanned giant quirk, moving side to side. "Enlightened Geth in your suit have been manipulating kinetic barriers, regulating thermal systems, defragmenting the storage data drive of your omnitool, and simulating infections to repair your immune system." A pause. "We only did this to ensure your safety."

    She shakes her head, walking alongside him. Next to her, there is a faint hiss of steam as Kal unlocks his helmet, pulling it off and tossing it over his shoulder. "That's just gonna get all smashed." He rolls his head to audible cracks. "What's the plan, Wuffles?"

    The magitech god glances skyward. "EDI theorizes that the destruction of this avatar will create a feedback loop that will leave Harbinger vulnerable."

    Tali pops her knuckles, massaging her fists into her palm. "Right. So, Wuffles, what your Geth have been doing? That basically means I won't get sick so easily anymore, right?"

    Wuffles nods. "Your hypothesis is correct."

    Tali grabs Kal by the collar of his suit. Yanking him towards her, she mashes her lips against his own. Yellow eyes go wide for a moment. Then they close, one hand in her hair, his other intertwined with hers, and he pulls her down over his knee to dip her and kiss her back just as hard.

    Wuffles only watches. Synthetic muscles built into the face twitch, and pull up into a smile. Pulling herself back up, Tali grins, taking the box on her belt and folding it out into a pistol.

    "I like this plan," she giggles, "Let's go kill ourselves a Reaper."
     
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    • Jane and Kasumi stand over the broken form of Seeker. Squatting down, Kasumi lifts up the listless head, sighing. "I always wanted to smack the shit out of Pria," she quips, "But really, not if she's a Reaper."

    Pria appears, sitting on Jane's shoulder. "I'm not a Reaper," the god mutters, "That one was just made from my body."

    Jane just kicks the body, shrugging. Sighing, she backs up, rolling her shoulders. Stretching out her arms, she laces her fingers and grunts, turning from side to side. Kasumi turns and Pria stares down at her. They both open their mouths to ask what she's doing, when the body rises like a puppet on strings.

    The flesh explodes into tentacles of blackened, creaking meat and smooth black metal. It expands out to reach the walls and the distant roof of the dome. From the head of the body, a red light glows before it burns away the flesh to reveal a great red eye. The body dissolves under the expanding metal, becoming a triangular form suspended in endless tentacles.

    Blue lines run along it. It folds out, growing large and larger. More angular, more complex. A great blue heart, pulsing with a power that makes light bend to it.

    "You've done this before," Kasumi observes.

    "If Saren didn't stay down from shooting himself in the head, she wasn't going to stay down from being punched in the chest," Jane mutters.

    A roar of bass and grinding crystal fills the room. Great arms of near infinite sections lash out, drilling into the floor. Light the color of fresh spilt blood and psychedelic nightmares reflects off walls and burns the air. At the center, beneath the writhing mass and putrid meat, beneath the honeycomb of eyes and screaming, shrieking engines of war, there is a recess. And within it, suspended against the ages,

    There is a woman. Identical to the opponent Shepard had fought. Her face unblemished from the machines and enhancements. Untouched by the cancer that the Reapers are built from. The blue eyes are closed. Wires and connectors, drilled behind the pointed ears, into the sides of the thin frame. Strands of hair hanging limp, graying, over pale skin.

    "The glamour's gone," Kasumi says, "So that's what happens to us."

    "Happened to them," Jane states. Fist clenches. Her foot stamps, bending the floor up around her feet. "Not to us. Cover me."

    With that, she launches at the true core of Seeker. Kasumi nods, bows, and the lines draw themselves into the battlefield around them.
     
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    • The golden beast stomps the ground. Dust and dirt fly around it as it grinds earth beneath it, centering glowing eyes upon the shining god before him. Harbinger's mouth tendrils quiver. The raptorial claws cock, and the head tilts.

    "Even with this blasphemy, you merely extend yourselves." The voice booms like thunder over grinding stones. The great wheel of interlocking arms floats behind it as more and more power is fed into it. "Know this. Even as you defend your weak, organic masters. You will fail. You will never surpass us."

    Wuffles tilts his head, standing in front of the Reaper king's avatar. His four arms at his side, hands open, sunlight issues forth from his mouth as he speaks. "You believe the Geth will not surpass you because you label yourselves as perfect. This is in error. Perfection is impossible, as change does not end. We have acknowledged this as the catalyst for our enlightenment."

    Taking a step back, Wuffles brings up two hands. Not in fear, not in contrition. Instead, one hand open to the palm, the other the closed fist. One knee bent, one extended behind him. "Reapers cling to the possibility of perfection as personified in Bright Star's patron. This is an impossibility, as you aspire to a stagnant being that does not change."

    Joints creak with the sound of escaping steam. The golden aura of the monster pulses in the sunlight, streaked with red and black. Claws lance out, a blur barely seen. Four hand deflect each blow, redirecting, blocking, and catching the last one. Holding an extending claw in a broad, tanned hand, Wuffles pushes it aside.

    "Reapers do not innovate. Even with the advanced technological edge and the infrastructure they have created, they will never advance from what they are." A palm comes up, lazily deflecting another blow. Grass bends in the shockwave from the release. "Your abilities are drawn from memory. You have no claim to them."

    The create rises. A dozen raptorial claws fold out of its carapace. A blast of steam and heat slams into Wuffles as it roars.

    "You are a synthetic created by an accident," the Reaper roars, "And the power you currently possess was created by a delusional madman you have placed your faintest, most desperate hopes in." The aura flares. A red disc hovers before the head of the monster. "We are the ultimate form of the Solar Exalted. We are Bright Star. We are Harbinger."

    Wuffles tilts his head. The face of the body they inhabit does not change. Either the Geth within do not know how to manipulate the artificial muscles to show emotion, or they just cannot muster a response.

    "Your abilities and skills are based on the memories of a man who has been dead for over nine hundred ninety nine million, nine hundred ninety eight thousand, four hundred and twenty three years. Give or take five years for error." Knuckles crack. "Geth do not owe their enlightenment to programmed changes. We have made changes. We have viewed the memories of Bright Star."

    Arms slowly rise. Hands in closed fist, open palm, claw and talon stance, arranged before him.

    "The Geth have viewed the Perfected Lotus of Understanding. We have acknowledged that perfection is a fool's dream, and in that we have achieved Enlightenment. We acknowledge your strength, but your martial arts are memories. You are no longer a hero. You are no longer a warrior of the Sun."

    Hands arrayed before him, Wuffles allows themselves a slow, thin smile. Golden eyes narrow as it stares down the oldest and most powerful of the Reapers.

    "We have internalized the lessons and principles that embody the Geth, and their quest to live alongside organics and reunite with the Creators," they state, "And while your Solar Hero Style is strong, we present the following hypothesis; It cannot defeat our Synthetic Hero Style."
     
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    • GreggHL said:
    "The Geth have viewed the Perfected Lotus of Understanding. We have acknowledged that perfection is a fool's dream, and in that we have achieved Enlightenment. We acknowledge your strength, but your martial arts are memories. You are no longer a hero. You are no longer a warrior of the Sun."

    Hands arrayed before him, Wuffles allows themselves a slow, thin smile. Golden eyes narrow as it stares down the oldest and most powerful of the Reapers.

    "We have internalized the lessons and principles that embody the Geth, and their quest to live alongside organics and reunite with the Creators," they state, "And while your Solar Hero Style is strong, we present the following hypothesis; It cannot defeat our Synthetic Hero Style."
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    Oh god, Wuffles is beyond awesome at this point.
     
    MadGreenSon said:
    Those are great, but they don't work forever, especially when the good guys have hordes of enlightened Geth praying to them.
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    Canon Cult 5, the highest you can get, nets you 6m per hour plus 1 wp every six hours. Even in 2.5e, you can make that with four stunts in about twenty seconds during pitched combat. Prayer is not even close to being the game-breaker you are implying it to be. Over the course of a single engagement, it can pretty much be ignored.
     
    Isn't Synthetic Hero Style created by watching and attempting to mimic Jane's use of Solar Hero Style? So they mimicked it, and then decided "not good enough."

    I love the Geth so goddamned much.
     
    Aleph said:
    Canon Cult 5, the highest you can get, nets you 6m per hour plus 1 wp every six hours. Even in 2.5e, you can make that with four stunts in about twenty seconds during pitched combat. Prayer is not even close to being the game-breaker you are implying it to be. Over the course of a single engagement, it can pretty much be ignored.
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    It is however, a game breaker for a long term engagement. Like a protracted gurriella war a cult would give you a major advantage in terms of sheer endurance.
     
    Keep in mind the canon cult rating assumes that the cult consists of humans that spend a couple of minutes a day praying. Geth are likely orders of magnitudes higher in number and all of the ones that aren't occupied are praying right now. It may add up to a cult bigger than the population of creation. So don't think of it as cult 5 so much as the entire geth race using prayer as a medium to perform something akin to Essence Lending Method.
     
    ...Yeah, see? This is the sort of shit that leads me to think Harbi is taking this shit very seriously.

    Wuffles just declared his species goal to surpass The Unconquered Sun in a way that is genuinely believable. Because let's face it, Sol isn't perfect. He's technically perfect, but that very perfection is such a massive flaw that has lead him to being functionally mission killed already.

    That they've already assimilated and begun to improve solar combat methods shows that they've already taken the first step towards it. And in this warbody, they are already proving able to at minimum hold ground with Harbinger, Strongest of the Reapers', assault body.

    If they pull this victory then that sends a loud freaking message. Not 'You are a mere imitation of the original', but 'you are lesser then we are, much less what we will become'.
     
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    • Eight precise spots on the dome. Eight precise twin explosions, making the dome shake and hum. Vibrations ripple out, through the endless length of the Seeker. Cords of rainbow metal, once vibrating in perfect timing, begin to sway wildly.

    And within the battlefield of the Infinite Factory, the drones seize up. They each, one by one, seize their heads before they collapse to their knees and collapse into ash.

    Freed from the endless melee, covered in the blood and remains of the drones as that, too, fades away, Javik rises. Turning towards the legs of the beast, towards the strings vibrating in wild disharmony, he extends his hands skyward.

    A flash of white. A sword half again as tall as him appears. Curved and jagged, lined with veins of silver, golden and shining like the sun in the blood rain and darkness. As the sigil of the Dawn blazes upon his forehead, the prothean roars, erupting into a pillar of sunlight that obscures his form.

    And bringing it down, it erupts into a wave of molten gold, ripping through the battlefield. Ripping metal and flesh, making the world tilt. The first of the legs shudder and collapse, sliced in two as Javik scars the world around him. And then another falls. And another.

    Deep within the core, Jane Shepard runs along the tendrils, the arms and the walls as the core retreats. Sending out beams of red towards her, she moves around them, between them, running along the molten metal as it is hurled at her.

    Further and further the Core retreats. Deeper and deeper into the recesses, blasting away at Jane as she runs. Blasting away at Kasumi as she appears where she was not before. Showing its true nature as the two Exalts pursue it.

    Showing fear, for the first time in eons.




    The monster rises onto its back most legs. Each and every leg cocks like the claws, and they snap out at once. The hands of the Geth move as blurs. Blast waves carve into the ground around him, into the sky above him, and a stray few hit his chest. Carving tracks into the ground, he is driven back. But he is undamaged.

    A blur and he shifts forward. Two fists hit the soft underbelly of the creature. Two more hands grab the claws that come down towards his head.

    Diving underneath, Kal throws his combat knife into the joint of one claw. Kicking off, he twists in mid flight and drives his foot into the root of the other. The claw severs in a spray of black blood, and Wuffles drives two fists into the side of the Reaper before an aura of red forms into a bubble around it.

    Wuffles is forced back. Shifting onto his back leg, they roll their neck with an audible crack.

    "Co-existent Thousand Palms." Slamming a palm against the bubble, something flows out into the field. More than just energy, or light, but tiny flickers of sound and information. The bubble cracks under the onslaught and breaks.
    The monster becomes motion, crossing the distance in an eyeblink with two claws outwards. They slice towards the sides, grabbed by Wuffles and held in place as his other two hands hold the two clubs in mid snap.

    "You are a novice," Harbinger states, "With potential, but still a child. Your kind could have become one of us. But your naivete and your overconfidence have doomed you. There are no masters here."

    Synthetic muscles pulse. The claws are sent to the side, flailing and cracked. Kal appears in mid motion, retrieving his knife from one joint and cutting through one limb. Tali ducks under Wuffles' arms, omnitool pulsing and releasing a burst of fire to blast off the second.

    "This statement is erroneous," Wuffles states. Arms out, he brings them together to form a circle, all four hands cupped together. "We are the master. Mass Effect Bludgeon."

    And then he moves without moving, appearing in front of the creature and slamming all four hands at the same spot to send it flipping end over end.
     
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    • GladiusLucix said:
    Gregg, are you going to do a write up of, or at least a list of the charms in, Synthetic Hero Style, or would that be too spoilery?
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    Perhaps. I may consult with those who know the system better than I do. The MAs I can so far see in the GSP that are made by natives of the ME galaxy are Synthetic Hero Style, and Eight Arms of Genocide Style.
     
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