ALPHA: Born Again

[Brute]

Perception: 51% 1d100: [82] = 82

JIC: 1d20: [17] = 17
JIC: 1d100: [47] = 47

" 'Cuse me."

Brute stares wide-eyed at the child.

I didn't see or hear - or even smell - her come in... how?

Shaking it off, he moves to the side and allows the girl acccess to the keypad. As he does, Maia offers her report.

”ONE. WITHIN SLUMBERS. NEST. OTHERS. ABANDONED.”

Brute nods. "Thank you, Maia. The sooner we can get this figured out, the sooner we can get you back into The Life." It's gotta really be bothering her to be surrounded by all this artificial environment. Turning back to the little girl he thinks, almost as an afterthought, I'm just glad Maia's on our side. I get the feeling she could swat us down pretty easily otherwise.

As Barricade and Crucible ask the little girl questions, Brute steps back. No need to spook her - though she didn't seem real afraid of me, even in my monstrous form. still - having three grown men asking you questions at the same time is enough to rattle even some adults.

As the others talk to the little girl, Brute looks at her, watches her responses. He's no stranger to the supernatural, so the possibility she is a demon or some other supernatural entity in disguise is not lost on him - though equally likely is that she's the child of a homeless person. though the fact she appears to know the passcodes for this place - this place that makes dolls - could indicate that she's...

Brute shudders.

She's a doll.

Identify common odors 98% 1d100: [24] = 24 (does she smell like a human? - SUCCESS)
Identify uncommon odors 58% 1d100: [5] = 5 (Does she smell like a construct? i.e., plastics, acrylics, polymers, etc.? - CRIT. SUCCESS)

[Blackhaunt]

BRISBY FLATS
Date: Monday, April 6th, 2043
Weather:

• Outside: Cloudy, raining, warm (60 degrees Fahrenheit)
• Inside: Stale air. Cold (53 degrees Fahrenheit)

Time: 9:57-10:01 am

Barricade, fearing digital trickery afoot, begins to copy the files from the Dolltastique computer onto his flash drive. One by one, they populate on to his media stick until the download is done. A project for another time.

Maia reports back to Brute that there is a sleeping...something in the warehouse. But before he can respond, the sudden appearance of a young girl in their midst throws the Omegas for various loops. Crucible quickly scans the newcomer to see about

Level: Low. Magic: None. Psychic: None. PPE Base: High. Possessing Entity: None. Health: Sick. Aberration: Yes.

Brute posits that she is a doll given the name of the building and tries to sense whether she is human with his antenna. He finds...nothing. Neither human nor plastic smells emanate from her. No smells at all. Crucible and Barricade both ask the young girl a series of questions.

Excuse me young lady, but do you live here?" he asks the newcomer politely, like the situation was the most normal thing in the world.

"And what's your name, young lady? I'm Mister Barricade, this is Mister Crucible, and that's Mister Brute. Miss Maia's here too. If you live here we'd like to know more about your home. Could you please tell us about it?"

The girl finishes typing in the code for the door which opens up. She steps down from the chair and pushes it back into place. She turns to Crucible first and says "No, strange man." Then she turns to Barricade and says "My name is Sarah. I don't live here. I'm just visiting my friend, strange man. Did you come to help, strange man?" She picks up her duffel bag and laboriously begins to carry it across the now open floor. Anyone looking in the room can see that it has not been cleaned in... well maybe ever. There are cups, bottles, cigarette butts, cans, wrappers and everything else lining the floors. It is disgusting. The doors from the reception room put you smack in the South end of the building. There are rooms in each of the corners (NE, SE, NW, SW). Alice heads toward the NW room.


What are you doing?

[Brute]

Perception: 51% 1d100: [98] = 98 (FAIL)

JIC: 1d20: [7] = 7
JIC: 1d100: [70] = 70

Conditions: Monstrous Form

Brute's eyes widen. He leans over to Crucible and whispers. "She's got no smell at all. Illusion, you think? Hologram maybe? Or some kind of energy construct?"

Lore: Magic 35% 1d100: [62] = 62 (is this child a magical construct of some sort? - FAIL)

Brute follows her in, warily, after she opens the door. Looks like any of a number of squats I've slept in - but for the pristine reception area. And the creepy odorless little child.

"Stay on your toes, team." As they pick their way through the garbage, Brute's antennae work overtime, trying to distinguish relevant smells from irrelevant ones, while he keeps his eyes open for signs of trouble - or signs of their quarry.

Track by scent 48% 1d100: [85] = 85 (FAIL)
Identify common odors 98% 1d100: [54] = 54 (SUCCESS)
Identify uncommon odors 58% 1d100: [11] = 11 (SUCCESS)
Motion detector, 30’ radius range
Identify temperature (within 2 degrees) 98% 1d100: [8] = 8 (SUCCESS)
Identify wind direction and speed 88% 1d100: [56] = 56 (SUCCESS)

Streetwise 64% 1d100: [95] = 95 (Any signs of gang affiliation inside - FAIL)
Intelligence 54% 1d100: [88] = 88 (Any signs that abducted individuals might be inside - or had been at some point - FAIL)

[Maia]

JIC: 1d20: [7] = 7 , 1d100: [3] = 3
PER: 1d100: [89] = 89 vs. 21%

"Did they look anything like her?" Crucible points at the 'girl'

Maia hovers in front of Crucible for almost a minute (if nothing else happens), uncomprehending (and maybe a smidge irritated). ”INFESTATION. LOOK. SAME.” Frustrated with the amount of time they’re taking indoors, she ripples her energy form in annoyance and considers the subject closed. Or possibly beneath her notice. They will want to take a look themselves either way. She also isn’t terribly interested when the young girl shows up- she has a vague sense that even by the standards of the infestation, this one is less connected to The Life. But Maia is eager to get the show on the road, and follows the rest of the team inside. If (when) Maia becomes cognizant of the girl’s destination, she will again rumble ”THERE. SLUMBERS.” If there is any indication of a fight, Maia will begin looking for any plant life she can use.

[Crucible]

Perception 1d100: [31] = 31 31%/56% vs the arcane
1d100 1d20

Crucible quickly scans the newcomer to see about
Level: Low. Magic: None. Psychic: None. PPE Base: High. Possessing Entity: None. Health: Sick. Aberration: Yes.

Brute's eyes widen. He leans over to Crucible and whispers. "She's got no smell at all. Illusion, you think? Hologram maybe? Or some kind of energy construct?"

Lore: Demons & Monsters 1d100: [35] = 35 vs 50%

Crucible frowns at Brute, scrunching up his face as the answer is not obvious to him.

"I'm not sure what she is. No magic, no psychic residue, but I sense power about her, an aberration and she is sick." He looks at her and at the door in turn, as he scratches his chin,"any answers I think are in there. Perhaps she is a mutant, her abilities being the reason why she isn't showing up with your abilities."

Maia hovers in front of Crucible for almost a minute (if nothing else happens), uncomprehending (and maybe a smidge irritated). ”INFESTATION. LOOK. SAME.”

Crucible shakes his head at Maia. so much help.

The girl finishes typing in the code for the door which opens up. She steps down from the chair and pushes it back into place. She turns to Crucible first and says "No, strange man." Then she turns to Barricade and says "My name is Sarah. I don't live here. I'm just visiting my friend, strange man. Did you come to help, strange man?" She picks up her duffel bag and laboriously begins to carry it across the now open floor. Anyone looking in the room can see that it has not been cleaned in... well maybe ever. There are cups, bottles, cigarette butts, cans, wrappers and everything else lining the floors. It is disgusting. The doors from the reception room put you smack in the South end of the building. There are rooms in each of the corners (NE, SE, NW, SW).

Crucible follows the 'girl' through the door and starts to reach for the bag. What ever her abilities, it doesn't include superstrength then

"Let me help you with that Sarah," he offers, offering a friendly smile to the girl. If she allows him, he will take the bag and heft it up unless it weighs a couple of tonnes. "we might be able to help your friend. What is wrong with him?

[Tom Cassidy]

Perception: 1d100<63: [2*] = 1
JIC: 1d20: [8] = 8 / 1d100: [81] = 81

Conditions:
- Force Field S.D.C. 3,100/3,400
- Bruno the Force Construct Northern Grizzly Bear: 59.75 minutes (239 melees) remaining

Bruno Stats

Size: 9' (2.7m)
A.R.: 6
Hit Points: 300
Attacks per Melee: 3
Damage: Claws -- 2d6+10 SDC; bite -- 2d4+4 SDC; bear hug -- 2d6+4 per melee round
Natural Abilities: Nightvision 60' (18.3m); prowl 30%; track by smell 68%, swim 70%, climb trees 30%
Speed: 22 (15 mph/24 km), but maximum speed is 44 (30 mph/48 km), which can be maintained for 2d4 minutes.

The girl finishes typing in the code for the door which opens up. She steps down from the chair and pushes it back into place. She turns to Crucible first and says "No, strange man." Then she turns to Barricade and says "My name is Sarah. I don't live here. I'm just visiting my friend, strange man. Did you come to help, strange man?" She picks up her duffel bag and laboriously begins to carry it across the now open floor. Anyone looking in the room can see that it has not been cleaned in... well maybe ever. There are cups, bottles, cigarette butts, cans, wrappers and everything else lining the floors. It is disgusting. The doors from the reception room put you smack in the South end of the building. There are rooms in each of the corners (NE, SE, NW, SW). Alice heads toward the NW room.

Tom shrugs. “Helping people is pretty much our business in a nutshell, Sarah. We’d sure like to help if we can. You say you don’t live here. Do you live close by? In the Oasis, maybe?” He looks dubiously at her duffel that Crucible hoists up onto his shoulder. I’ve got this feeling there’s more than just aspirin and chicken soup in there… but only one way to find out what’s going on in here, I guess.

"Stay on your toes, team." As they pick their way through the garbage, Brute's antennae work overtime, trying to distinguish relevant smells from irrelevant ones, while he keeps his eyes open for signs of trouble - or signs of their quarry.

“Don’t need to tell me twice, bud…” Tom replies with a half-disgusted expression as he surveys the mess. Now this is a little more what I’d expect out of an ‘abandoned’ warehouse. For more than a hot second he contemplates whipping up a hover disc to avoid walking through any unpleasant… surprises… but ultimately decides against tipping anyone off about the group’s collective abilities. He does however keep a watchful eye on his surroundings, looking for anything out of place or hinting at evil shenanigans.

Did I just say ‘evil shenanigans’ to myself? Geez, and here I thought I was over the ‘spandex’ mindset…

Streetwise -- 1d100<49: [43*] = 1
Crime Scene Investigation -- 1d100<90: [1*] = 1

[Blackhaunt]

BRISBY FLATS
Date: Monday, April 6th, 2043
Weather:

• Outside: Cloudy, raining, warm (60 degrees Fahrenheit)
• Inside: Stale air. Cold (53 degrees Fahrenheit)

Time: 10:01-10:05 am
Brute can smell a lot of things. Most of them unpleasant. Stale beer, molding food, melted plastic, playdough? Brute still can't smell the little girl next to him, but her duffel bag smells faintly like blood and motor oil. He thinks about what she could possibly be to create such a blind spot in his senses like this. His current hypothesis is a magical construct. Crucible rules that out as he scans her aura, not sensing magic coming from her person.

Crucible helps the young girl with the duffle bag that she's struggling with. It's light work for him, but it's pretty heavy for a tiny girl.

"Let me help you with that Sarah," he offers, offering a friendly smile to the girl. If she allows him, he will take the bag and heft it up unless it weighs a couple of tonnes. "we might be able to help your friend. What is wrong with him?

"He's all alone, strange man. I bring him presents. The shinies."

Over the sounds of the team sloshing through piles of trash, Barricade hears a metallic TING come from Crucible lifting the girl's duffel bag. He doesn't notice any evil shenanigans afoot.

Maia recognizes the direction that the girl is headed and warns the others that someone is slumbering within. Sarah reaches the northwestern door and knocks on it.

A young male voice comes from the other side. "Ugh... Who... who is it? I was sleeping."
Sarah replies "Only one person ever visits you, silly. It's Sarah. I have more shinies. Oh, and there's some men to see you. And a ghost. I think she's a ghost. 'Cuse me, are you a ghost?" Sarah is now looking directly at Maia in her invisible energy form.
"Some men? A ghost? Sounds like a job for STRANGE-MAN! KAZOO!" A few moments later, the door opens and a powerful looking hero stands there about 6'8" high, densely muscled with a pristine costume.


"How can I, STRANGE-MAN, help you, three men and a ghost?" Barricade (CRIT PERCEPTION!!!) notices something is...different with Strange-Man's look. Although he is obviously human, he reminds you of... burlap?
As soon as the door opens, Brute is overwhelmed by a strong rolling wave of smells. It must be the playdough he could smell earlier, but now it's magnified into its base components. Everything around him smells like clay, rotting spinach, and a chemical finish like chlorine.
Sarah smiles and yells "Strange man!"

What are you doing?