Opening up the Campaign thread. Feel free to dot in, but please don't start making in-character posts (introductions, conversations, etc.) until I've had a chance to post some introductory/preliminary material.
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Here's the Necessary Background (see what I did there?) you'll need to know to start the game. Read it! Know it! Remember it! (Well, ok, over the time frames of PbP's - refer to it often!)
Then, in 2020, the alien spaceships appeared over every major city of the planet. There was no prelude and no demands. The aliens just attacked. They were an amphibious race that combined the nastiest aspects of sharks and crocodiles with an aggression matched by neither. They were the stuff of nightmares to most. The people called them “Fins.” Every major city was ravaged, even Atlantis.
Most Fins are well over 7’ tall — every bit of which is muscle. They have humanoid forms but with a thick crocodile-like hide. Their head has a distinctive shark-like appearance, especially with the fin-ridge that runs along the top of their skulls and their coal-black eyes. Their coloration runs towards the darker end of the spectrum along their backs, from light greens to blue and violet, while the front is universally pale.
Earth’s superheroes fought back immediately. After all, aliens had tried to invade Earth three times before, and earth’s defenders had always emerged triumphant. But the Fins possessed advanced technology and savage bloodlust, so the losses were heavy. Earth began to worry.
Then suddenly, advance forces of another alien race arrived in earth orbit — the V’sori. They claimed to be the long-lost allies of Atlantis who had been searching for their missing comrades in arms for hundreds of years. During their quest, they had grown to become the defenders of the galaxy. The V’sori claimed the Fins — or K’tharen as they called themselves — were rampaging mercenaries who ravaged world after world, but the V’sori had fought them before and would help Earth against them now.
The V’sori can best be described as beautiful. They are tall, thin, but well-muscled, and bear a bluish complexion eerily similar to that of the Atlanteans. Their hair is mostly dark brown or black. V’sori are rarely seen in public without their body armor, a tight suit of segmented plates composed of some unknown alien material. In battle, V’sori commanders wear full helmets with mirrored visors.
When the V’sori arrived, the K’tharen fleet rose to fight them. The alien ships fought a titanic battle in space, but the V’sori won out, and even beamed the images of the fleeing Fins to earth. Humanity cheered their saviours and welcomed the advanced alien protectors with open arms.
Of course that’s just what the aliens wanted all along. In every major city, heroes and world leaders joined together to welcome the aliens. The crowds cheered as the V’sori ships appeared overhead. Every superhero, sidekick, president, and even stars of sports, movies, and music attended these grand galas. The people of earth cheered as they watched their heroes greet the alien saviors on the news networks. The cheers turned to screams when the V’sori ships opened fire on the gathered throngs.
Moments afterward, the K’tharen warships returned — servants of the V’sori. Massive death rays then swept over the gathered throngs, slaying thousands of heroes, officials, generals, and innocents in moments. Within 30 minutes, the unthinkable had occurred. Earth’s greatest heroes were dead and its leaders vaporized. The aliens had won. It is believed somewhere around 98% of the Earth’s superheroes have been killed by the V’sori.
Soon, televisions and radios around the world carried an announcement from the admiral of the V’sori fleet. Earth was now under the control of the V’sori Empire. Resistance would be met with death. The V’sori Empire wanted Earth’s resources. They claimed destroying more of our infrastructure and our people was counterproductive to their goal, gaining a new self-sufficient source of raw resources. The V’sori have placed Governors in charge of the former nations of Earth. The invaders and their Fin servants are now commonplace. There isn’t a single government left to oppose them, and they feel they have nothing to fear from Earth.
The year is now 2024. The Earth has been under the control of the V’sori Empire for over two years. Various resistance movements have been quashed by the V’sori, but the most promising has only just begun to act — Omega. Omega was started by the greatest criminal mastermind of the modern age, Dr. Destruction. Its members are largely made up of former superhumans the world once called villains. Dr. Destruction has said that only he is the rightful ruler of the earth — “not some alien scum from the back corners of the galaxy.” No one knows who the doctor really is, or what his face looks like behind the mask. His powers are well-known, however. In his past battles with superheroes he displayed inhuman strength, energy blasts, and teleportation. What inherent powers he possesses and what might come from his incredible devices is anyone’s guess.
Omega is organized into cells, each of which is only aware of the other members of its own cell to prevent betrayal. Cells are contacted with their mission information through blind drops, secret codes, and most commonly, encoded radio broadcasts.
Star City
The main action in Necessary Evil takes place in Star City. New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, and most every other major city in the US were rubbled by the V’sori. Star City was left curiously untouched by the aliens’ weapons of mass destruction. Large numbers of K’tharen and drones operate in the city, however, and seem to take the place of weaponry that might cause too much collateral damage. This amazing island was created some time ago by a being of god-like power called the Outsider. The United States annexed Star Island after the Outsider was defeated and began a very expensive and high-profile scientific study of the island and its amazing ability to spawn superhumans. Two years of study at the taxpayers’ expense found no particularly useful results so it was sold off in parcels to the highest bidder. Exactly why the Outsider created the island Star City now sits on, why so many superpowered beings are spawned here, and why the aliens don’t blast it into oblivion is a mystery your team may unravel as they fight for its survival. For now, know that Star City is your character’s home, and he’d best defend it with his very life.
Star City is home to around five million citizens, down from the eight million who lived here prior to the invasion. Most of the loss comes from those who took flight rather than casualties, as the aliens took special care not to overly damage the island. They did settle it in force, however. A large number of citizens weren’t comfortable living in such close proximity to the invaders and were allowed to flee to the mainland.
Star City lies two miles off the coast of the eastern seaboard of the United States, about halfway between Boston and New York, and is roughly six times the size of Manhattan (180 square miles). The island Star City was built on was created in 1955 when the nearly omnipotent being known as the Outsider came to Earth. Other than the fact that Star City is home to an inordinate number of superbeings, the island seems completely normal.
Star City is in fact shaped like an eight-pointed star. Four large points alternate with four smaller points surrounding the large central sections called Uptown and Downtown. Each of the points forms a subsection of the city. The large points are known by their compass counterparts: Northpoint, Eastpoint, Southpoint, and Westpoint. The small points have the more colloquial names of Beachhead (NE, known as Bright Beach pre-invasion), Tempest (SE), The Docks (SW), and Prospect Point (NW). The central area of the city is divided into two subsections: Uptown to the north and Downtown to the south.
Star City connects to the Eastern seaboard of the United States via an amazing bridge, also built by the Outsider. Christened the “Sea Bridge,” this miraculous two-mile span has weathered powerful Atlantic currents, high winds, and even two super-powered terrorist attacks. The Sea Bridge supports seven lanes of traffic: three going toward the city and three going away. The bridge lands at Westpoint, funneling traffic north or south to Uptown and Downtown respectively. Engineers have since converted the seventh lane into a mag-lev line that runs from Providence, Rhode Island, to the Sea Bridge and on to Star City. A bustling ferry industry has also grown up around Star City, shuttling cars and pedestrians across the two-mile stretch of ocean to Star City’s Westpoint receiving station. More than a dozen ferries from two competing companies serve better than 50,000 cars and pedestrians per day.
Northpoint is the most heavily patrolled section of Star City that is not home to any V’sori. Once the upper middle class district, Northpoint is now the home of those humans who willingly work with the alien empire.
Mayor Perez: Northpoint’s most important human resident is Star City’s current mayor, Jerry Perez. The V’sori governor appointed Perez mayor about a year ago, and he has since surrounded himself with a number of
like-minded cronies. Perez’ primary goal is self-preservation, but his secondary objective is rooting out any resistance cells in Star City. He has proven himself an implacable foe of the resistance, and uses whatever resources given him by his alien overlords to hunt down any insurgents. He has used his freedom and authority to form his own Star City Police Department, and has even been allowed to arm his officers with a limited number of highpowered V’sori weapons.
Special Ops Corps: After winning the complete confidence of his alien overseers, Perez was allowed to create a special branch of the police to deal with superhuman menaces across the city. The Special Ops Corps, or SOCorp, was born, and with strong alien support, Perez outfitted his new officers to do battle with superhuman foes. Since its inception, SOCorp has worked closely with the V’sori governor in busting several rings of resistance operatives, earning them the enmity of every Omegan in town. Perez and SOCorp are based in Northpoint’s heavily guarded Public Safety Building, located on Center Avenue, the primary thoroughfare that bisects the neighborhood.
Beachhead is home to Star City’s V’sori base, which is walled off from the rest of the city. Besides military structures, the most notable place is the old Star City Aquarium, which has been converted to a recreation facility for the aquatic V’sori and K’tharen. More than just a fortress in a once-hostile city, Beachhead has become an enclave of safety and security where the V’sori and their most trusted allies can walk without fear of attack, conduct delicate research, or pursue pastimes unrelated to the business of the invasion. The only humans allowed through the walls of Beachhead are slaves or those with special clearance from V’sori high command. Even trusted human allies like Star City Mayor Jerry Perez must make special arrangements to tread the area’s heavily guarded streets, and no humans are allowed within the Star City Aquarium’s sea-green walls. Many members of the resistance have speculated as to exactly what transpires within the old aquarium-turned-alien recreation center, but no one has yet been able to penetrate its security to discover what’s really going on in there.
The V’sori in charge of Star City is Warlord Grypon, an aging commander and master politician who has shown a keen interest in Star City and all of its neighborhoods, inhabitants, and architecture, no doubt due to its near-magical origin. Grypon always travels with a bodyguard of a dozen elite K’tharen.
I’ll describe the other parts of Star City as needed, or you can read up about them if you have the NE Player’s Guide.
Sometime in the last two days, the aliens slapped you in irons. Nullifiers, to be precise (which negate *all* of your superpowers!). You were going about your business (that is, wreaking havoc) in Star City when the aliens performed one of their random sweeps. Some of you were spotted by dumb luck, others were ratted out by someone who has a very bad day coming sometime in the near future.
You were transferred from one holding facility to another, and finally put on this M’buna, a weird alien transport ship that’s currently zipping down Central Avenue. Most likely, they’re heading for one of those big Man O’ Wars to take you off world. Rumor has it they like to dissect folks with super-powers to see what makes ‘em tick.
At least you won’t suffer alone. There are a few other capes in here as well. Some you recognize. Some you don’t. You’re all in the same boat...er, ship...now though.
Time to introduce yourselves to each other. You can know someone else by just their name, or their repuation, or personally, or not at all. Some of you might have been captured together, working as a temporary team to accomplish some mutually beneficial goal.
Tell the others however much you wish to reveal about yourself, and what it was you were doing when you were captured.
Psst Zen
The green goo in the Ziploc bag burbled as it hung from a hook in the brig of the ship.
On closer inspection, this bag wasn't manufactured by S.C. Johnson and Son, but a product of convergent design. There's an odd prismatic sheen to the plastic and the fastener has the familiar annoying hum of a power neutralizer. And it's about four feet square.
The goo seems to be pushing the bag to stretch and twist it. As it does, it seems to modulate the hum of the neutralizer. Pushing the bag against the wall provides yet more variety of sound. The purpose soon becomes apparent as the sounds resolve into a semblance of speech. "Zheh-lo. Toktr Tahkzhik." A little more experimentation refines the process, or perhaps your ears grow accosted to the odd sounds. "Hello, I am Doctor Toxic."
"Thank god you are a prisoner! I was afraid you were the rations."
The young man in a prison jumpsuit tests the restraints. Muscles flex.
"Damn, normally I am pretty good at getting out of things like this. "
He sags back against the bulkhead. "Good to meet you Doc. My name is Jack of Clubs, just Jack for short. I have to say you are the second strangest person I ever met. No offence I hope? "
sitting against one wall is a muscular man with brown short cropped hair and an acrobat's frame. He sports fading bruises and contusions as if he had been a difficult capture. Both his eyes appear to have been blackened, with streaks of black radiating out from his eyelids.
The nullifier cuffs hum constantly in contact with his wrists. His suit missing, it was surprisingly hard to note anything particularly unique about the man, other than the cuffs seem to not need to work very hard to keep his powers offline.
Hearing the strange buzzing from the plastic bag, he blinks at it, an eyebrow rising as it starts speaking. "Heh, I thought *I* had it bad." he quips. "They only kicked me black and blue... but they tossed you in a blender and hit frape... Well doctor, you know that you're a bag of goo, right?"
He looks at his restraints and tests his bindings. He could deal with not having powers, but restraining his movement was too much.
First came range of motion, then activating the different abilities one by one. Nothing seemed to work. He could move a few feet, not so much that he could reach the other prisoners, but perhaps if he forcefully dislocated both shoulders...
"Seems we're in a tight spot," Alpha muses. "Don't suppose one of you knows where we're headed?"
He spots Jack of Clubs.
"That you Jack? I thought someone with your talents could've avoided something like this."
The goo burbles. Perhaps with laughter. "I am aware of my condition and don't take offense. I was like this before the aliens invaded. Though I am curious who the strangest person you met was."
At the end of the prison transport bench sits a skinny underweight kid, somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, though it's hard to tell, given his emaciated form and pale clammy skin.
His voice sounds wan when he speaks, "He looks like a Kelp and Spinach smoothie. I had a Physiotherapist who tried to force one of those on me once. It didn't go well for her." He has the decency to look abashed a moment later and adds, "No offense, Doc."
He doesn't offer up who he is, or what he is doing in a transport full of Super Villains. He looks more like he belongs on a poster for Sick Kids, not on a Maximum Security transport wearing nullifying restraints.
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Continuing the under-powered appearance crowd sits a lanky man in threadbare khakis and a second-hand polo. His head starts to bob up and consciousness returns and he hears a familiar voice. "Jack? Dat you? Ugh, I thought you got away. After I got napped at Wash'n'Wash I thought...ah what's the use."
Though his words are carefully crafted to convey a message of caring and common causes, the manner in which they are pronounced seems somehow plastic, like the words are mass-produced before being tossed into a bag.
"Name's Thomas, friends. And I think you look like a lime shake, Doctor. The kind my mom makes around St. patty's."
Sorry - yes, you are all handcuffed and footcuffed, and chains bolted to the thick walls of the vehicle go around them. You are all in the same "room" of the vehicle. The back of the room is the back of the vehicle, which has hydraulics to lower it to the ground, forming a ramp.
Any gear/armor/weapons you may have had is held in a storage room to the front of the room you're in, behind a thick steel wall, with a thick steel door, with a lock.
"Tsk." he says. "Such commonplace flavors. I actually taste like fluoromethyl hexafluoroisopropyl ether with a hydrofluoric acid chaser."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
He looks around through sallow, sunken eyes.
"Any idea where they are taking us? Detention, or liquidation?"
"Jack? Dat you? Ugh, I thought you got away. After I got napped at Wash'n'Wash I thought...ah what's the use."
"Seems we're in a tight spot," Alpha muses. "Don't suppose one of you knows where we're headed?"
He spots Jack of Clubs.
"That you Jack? I thought someone with your talents could've avoided something like this."
Jack cranes his neck to see the speaker.
"Alpha? Well now I don't feel so bad. If they were good enough to nab you and Thomas then I don't have to feel like such a sucker. The bastards pulled me out of Star City General. Some punk got a lucky shot in. It happens. You gotta take the smooths with the rough as they say."
He looks around through sallow, sunken eyes.
"Any idea where they are taking us? Detention, or liquidation?"
"I'm not sure where they are taking us kid. But I do know that very, very few people ever come back."
Jacks looks the kid over again.
"You look pretty harmless with those bracelets on kid. I expect the opposite is true once they're off but the cancer-chic you got going on right now might make the fish-heads careless. Keep canny kid."
Jack smiles.
The goo burbles. Perhaps with laughter. "I am aware of my condition and don't take offense. I was like this before the aliens invaded. Though I am curious who the strangest person you met was."
Jack leans back and starts telling a story.
"You remember Eon? The time displaced whatever-it-was member of Alpha Squadron? (Please replace with name of JLA/Avengers equivalent if you have already created such an org.) I won a contest back when I was younger than the kid over there......"
Jack goes on to tell a pretty damn funny story about his adventures in Alpha Squadron HQ. Is shows several of the more famous heroes in a comedic light. Most of it is clearly untrue but it is well told and the meeting with Champion sounds sincere.
"Wait... Jack?" the man hanging quietly suddenly speaks up, his voice drawn out and menacing. "Jack of Clubs... I remember you. You were a hard one to pin down... Always escaped me."
He looks up at Jack, grinning.
"You probably dont recognize me... I was wearing that god-awful white and red suit at the time. Still, I guess I should thank you. If not for you and the others, I might've been at one of those banquets."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"That was you in that mess? You my friend need a better tailor."
Jack pauses, remembering. "Ok, I am sorry for the second kick to the cracked rib in Nakatomi Plaza. Not the first one, you earned that one."
"Your damned left hook nearly cost me a tooth."
"Heh. Old news, old suit, old profession." He replies. "My new suit's much better than that spandex nonsense."
-Posted with Wayfinder
The white-haired woman sits sullenly in the corner, listening to the others introduce themselves. Her black bodysuit and boots complement her jet black, angelic wings that jut from between her shoulder blades. A yellow sword insignia is over her left breast. Her hair is a platinum blonde and her face is beautiful, almost unearthly in its attractiveness.
Some of you might recognize her as a vigilante known as the Dark Angel. As many considered her a hero, that many again saw her as a villain, as she was ruthless in dealing with her foes. She was known to meet even minor infractions with lethal force.
"You look pretty harmless with those bracelets on kid. I expect the opposite is true once they're off but the cancer-chic you got going on right now might make the fish-heads careless. Keep canny kid."
Jack smiles.
The kid coughs into a shackled fist, with some significant force. Wiry and thin muscle sticks out from sunken skin.
"What me? No, I am harmless. No need for them to be taking me in at all."
Oh we are all harmless right now. Even that not-so-nice bird lady in the corner. Collectively we could just about manage to threaten a puppy as we are now. However it's not the time for false modesty. The Fish fear us. I'm not sure why, but they do. You don't waste hardware like this" Jack shakes his null-restraints. "on trivial problems."
Now it may be far too late for any of us to do more than make the air slightly warmer but I've been in bad spots before. I got out of them by keeping my eyes open and grabbing the chance when it came. I propose that when that chance comes whichever of us are still among the interesting make the V'sori deeply regret not killing us when they had the chance."
"Oh and Tom, remember I know you. You are about as harmless as untreated appendicitis."
"Speak for yourself. Even without powers I can win my fair share of fights." Wolf Spider interjects. "Though I don't think I can break free here without help. Hmm... " He stops, looking around the chamber.
"Doctor, are you able to melt through any metals, were you to have your powers back?" he asks.
"I don't like this whole waiting for something come along thing."
Alpha looks at the arrangement of the room, and its prisoners.
"Anyone got anything remotely sharp? I figure if we can cut Dr. Toxic out of his bag, he can take care of our restraints. If not...well, any of you able to regenerate limbs?"
"Does Razor-Sharp wit count? Even if we could regrow limbs, how do you propose getting said limb off? I've seen people shrivel under a good tongue-lashing, but I haven't yet managed dismemberment... well, not via that method anyway."
"Severing limbs isn't necessary." Wolf Spider replies. "I'm more worried I'll get out of here alive."
He takes a deep breath. "All right, a+#$%@%s. We all know what's really going to happen to us. None of us want that. Not at all. Our only chance of getting the hell out of here is if we team up... at least, for now. They caught us individually, but I'm thinking that working together would be just what they're not expecting."
Turning back to Dr. Toxic, he tilts his head imploringly. "So, doctor. Work with me, and we all can get out of here alive."
"Oh, get me out of this and I'll melt us all free. One of the few benefits of this form."
He strains up within the bag but as the pseudopod comes close to the nullifier it turns liquid and flows back down.
"I meant if I could wrench free, at the cost of my hands and feet, I could copy somone with regenerative powers to fix myself. From there, it just takes copying a power capable of setting Dr. Toxic free from there. The only thing I don't know is if I can copy folks who are currently being nullified..."
Alpha sighed, he didn't really want to semi-tear off his limbs in order to get free, especially if he wasn't sure that he'd be able to fix it quickly after.
"I think we're all on the same page here Wolf Spider, the only question is how we're going to do it."
Wolf spider pauses, closing his eyes and taking a few preparatory breaths.
"Let's save the maiming for others. Fortunately for you, I'm double-jointed."
Total Roll: 22
"Since we're all working together, allow me to be the first to say... welcome to the team."
Ok, you get both hands out of the handcuffs. But you still have your footcuffs, and apparently they're Nullifiers too. And your footcuffs are still chained to the wall of the vehicle.
Let's see how close you are to Dr. Toxic :
Unfortunately, his bag is *just* out of reach at the moment...
Seeing how close they are, he sloshes back and forth to get the bag swinging. Maybe he can get it far enough over to get into reach.
Tensing as he finds his foot cuffs still restraining him, he tries to move closer to the doctor. Seeing him just out of reach, he strips off his undershirt and uses that to clear the extra distance to pull Dr. Toxic's baggy closer to him.
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"Heh, well I guess I have had my moments, haven't I?" The false modesty sounds...false. Like he's picking from a list of pre-selected appropriate responses handed to him from someone just off camera. "Ha! Remember that incident at Syracuse? Man, that security guard was so happy when he thought his high-school sweetheart was coming back to him, saying she was sick of that handsome rich guy. But then it wasn't! Oh man. I bet he remembered that for the rest of his life! I mean, I killed him shortly thereafter, but still."
"Whoa! Nice twisting there, Spidey! Hey, I got this itch on my back that is driving me cra-cra. Would you mind getting it when you're done?
No rush."
The white-haired woman with the wings watches quietly. She didn't like just sitting here, but there was a time to fight and a time to wait, and this is the time to wait. Without her sword, there wasn't much that she could do, especially since she was as weak as a normal human in these nullifiers.
"Oh.... That has got to hurt!"
Jack winces at the sounds of Wolf's dislocating joints
"You know this would be funny if we were not all speeding to our deaths."
"Oh, they might not kill us. I've heard the rumour the fishies like to dissect Meta-Humans in order to figure out what makes 'em work the way they do. Like maybe they'll use us to figure out how to give themselves a bunch of super powers. Wouldn't that just be grand; not just fighting off technologically superior aliens with seemingly unlimited resources, but fighting off Super-Powered technologically superior aliens with seemingly unlimited resources."
"Wonder if we'll be alive or dead when they do it, or if they bother with anesthetic... Heh, maybe if they try to copy me I'll give 'em all membership cards to the Cancer-chic club Jack was admiring."
That thought seems to brighten his disposition a little, and make him look slightly less close to death for a minute.
The second one who'd been quiet up until then finally opened his eyes from the rest he'd been trying to have, and looked around frowning at them all, after hearing the popping and grunting of the chain-dislodging. "Boy, you all are a mouthy lot, aren't you? And I thought *I* was the one who couldn't shut up most of the time! Or so I've been told."
He gave a sniff of disdain. "I'll actually be impressed if you can get out of those nullifier anklecuffs as well there, sir." But he smiled and chuckled softly at that.
He tilted his head from one side to then the other trying to work out a kink. He looked at the quiet winged woman for a moment but then turned away. "We'll either get where we're going soon enough...or we won't. Unfortunately, I don't see much that we can do about it while thus chained." His smile turned more wicked. "But don't stop trying on MY account. Break bones, pop off extremities, and if you can get free, my powers would be VERY useful for getting the cuffs off of all of us at once."
"By all means, I'd rather not segment my ankles if needless." Alpha says, as he watches Wolf Spider free his wrists.
The young girl sat quietly in the corner. The last to be loaded into the truck, she was unconscious when six fully armored warriors brought her in, carrying her like she was a case of liquid nitrogen.
Like the rest of you, she was wearing nullification manacles on her ankles and wrists, but she also had a band around her torso and another around her throat. Sometime during the subsequent conversation, she had apparently regained consciousness and had been listening to the rest of you.
"These ones are fools, but powerful fools none-the-less. They may be of use." she says, without appearing to be speaking to any of you.
Wolf Spider takes off his prison-issued shirt and tries slinging it around Dr. Toxic's bag. He eventually succeeds, and manages to pull the bag off its hook, which falls to the floor with a loud thump.
But, now that he looks at it, it isn't merely a big Ziploc(tm). The plastic looks to be at least an eighth of an inch thick (3 mm). And there's a extra-thick roll of it around its mouth, which means the Nullifier lock can't just be slipped over it.
There's *nothing* sharp or pointy in the room - what do you want to do?