"Eat pizza." Ember responds deadpan, reaching for the recently delivered box of food.
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Ember is mostly down for pillaging some new toys. Mark thinks the hero nullifying formula box-thingy probably deserves a followup.
Ember reels from the errant blow momentarily, standing with a confused look on her face as she attempts to puzzle out what the hell just happened to her. It dawns on her pretty quickly, the giant mantis-alien-thing bowing up like one of those silly birds she had seen on the Discovery Channel. Unfortunately, dousing the flames of discord simply isn't in Ember's repertoire. Her eyes narrow to slits of molten fury, and her veins begin to throb with a glow like that of the sun. She manages to keep level enough not to unleash a pyroclasm on the room of once-Omegans, instead offering a couple of utterly ineffective kicks against one of Preacha's numerous stalk-like legs. Her voice is high pitched and full of anger when she screeches, ""
"We need a new television. Should probably get a few spares this time." Ember offers wryly from the couch. Her obese cat paces back and forth momentarily on top of the furniture behind her before ultimately settling on a precarious perch.
"Sure, Dracler, I'll eat some pizza. Sounds better than eating tartar-head for dinner, I guess. Just don't go getting all kinds of weird s!!# on it. Not gonna throw in money on a lemon-slice and hashbrown pie. . ." Ember makes her way to the living room, ready to unwind and get a little bit of gaming in while the brains and the brain make with the interrogating. "" escapes her lips when she lays eyes on the ruination visited upon the television—totally different than the times she's blown it up in frustration, of course. Reacting like any well-adjusted teenager would, she unleashes a couple of explosions and a litany of incomprehensible quasi-expletives at the corpse of what had been the television.
"Sounds like a few more people out there in need of a lot of killing, if you ask me." Ember shrugs. In truth, she's stopped paying attention to most of the conversation.
Ember continues rocking the streets with fiery explosions, careful to avoid catching Preacha Z in the destructive tantrum. She manages to find a sweet spot once more and Tartan is engulfed in a blast that could incinerate a Buick. Over the din of combat, Ember calls out, "BENJAMIN MOTHERF&$+ING FRANKLIN "HAWKEYE" F~!*ING PIERCE JR.!"
Accounting for the introduction of Preacha on the scene, Ember heaves another fiery blast behind Tartan in the interest of not incinerating the otherworldly hip hop aficionado dominating the street below her. Aiming and precision have never been her preferred method of operation, however, and she ends up pulling most of the punch her blast had to offer. On the bright side, Tartan's figure cuts an impressive looking silhouette against the explosion behind him. ______________________________
Ember manages to roll with the worst of the incoming squad car, spinning away from the descending vehicle to sail to a nearby building's roof. "I asked for ketchup, not tartar sauce!" Both of her hands are bathed in flame when she lands, summoning another explosion that rocks the street below.
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Ember frowns at the retreat of Red Samurai. "Guess the Tampon joke was a little too fitting." Turning instead to Tartan, she extends her right hand before her, left hand gripping her right elbow as if to secure or steady it. She presses the middle finger and thumb of her right hand together, preparing to snap her fingers, before calling out in a faux-masculine tone over the crowd, "" her Roy Mustang impression evaporates after she snaps her fingers, and she calls out in her usual, manic voice "" The click of her fingers is immediately drowned out by an explosion that engulfs Tartan completely, rocking nearby vehicles and sending shrapnel flying from the force of impact. Ember ascends higher in the sky to avoid retaliation and flames spring to life around her, curling around in a roiling inferno.
"Ain't that just the Pedobear and the Bloody Tampon, villains extraordinaire! Knocking over armored cars like a couple of two-bit nobodies, just to remember their roots I'm sure." Ember cracks her knuckles, lining up a shot on Red Samurai as she continues her monologue. "But, as one meta to another," she says, shooting a sour look to the news team, "I'll give you one chance to apologize for being an insufferable d!$%@ead before I decide to ignite you and show the world how red you could be."
Something between a giggle and a maniacal laugh escapes Ember's lips when the rumblings of the fight above reach as far deep as Steve's bunker-lair. She doesn't bother with anything amounting to an explanation or statement of intent, instead speeding to the bunker's lift, giddy at the opportunity to do something exciting. As soon as she reaches the parking garage, she races off out of one of the open-air openings that line the building's outer wall and into the sky, a trail of flame and haze behind her. She continues laughing the entire way.
I think Exile might have an extra Edge/Trait Bump/Skill Points left to spend, giving it a quick glance. As it stands, I count 15 skill points, 2 edges, and no trait bumps. Unless he took extra cash, but that doesn't seem likely at a glance.
A mischievous look flashes across Ember's face as she leans forward and hops off of the couch. Closing the distance to where Over-mind stands, she flicks the robotic body in the pelvic assembly and teases, "I don't know about fully functional. But it keeps your brain pickled enough to keep thinking, for sure." Excitement replaces her jesting as she regards the room at large once more. Her voice takes on a slightly higher pitch as she says, "So let's find something. Pronto! Quick like a bunny! Hop-to you geezers."
"Probably as easy as finding any places out in the middle of nowhere that got blasted to bits. Or maybe the places in the cities that got blasted after the first blasting." Ember shrugs, then furrows her brow in momentary thought. "Don't you have a lab full of computers without any games that're supposed to find out stuff like that for you? Just bleep-bloop your keyboard in there until it tells you."
Ember maintains her lounge of solitude in the Living Room Most Nefarious of their totally awesome and totally boring lair. Across the room, in the corner, a large flat-screen television sits atop an entertainment center. Directing her character with the wireless X-box 360 controller in her hands, she explores the same recycled cavern she has visited a dozen times already on this playthrough. It was infuriating, especially for the sequel to another game that had been so awesome. Most of what Steve is yelling about washes over her without registering, but after a few seconds of consideration she realizes what he's actually wailing about. "I don't have a godamn clue what a Mongle is, Paps, but if it means we can get out of this basement before I start installing skylights, I'm all for it." She shuts off the console and discards the controller on the couch before rising from where she had been reclined. "I need to find some new games anyway. D'ya think we can hit up one of the old cities for a change? They always have all the best stuff. Z's really hitting his limits with that old scratchy-board. He needs a fresher table, and I need to get a newer console. If we're going to be cooped up all the time, we need something to keep the troops in line, right?" And maybe I can find that s%$*sausage that swindled me out of four-hundred bucks for an Atari while we're out there.
Got the mechanics squared away. I'll get cracking on a backstory and adding it in shortly. Not terribly keen on the forum avatar, but it'll suffice. But I did find a great Chandra artwork from M:tG that's about as close as it gets.
This is Mark. Placeholder for now. If I don't change gears entirely, the basic premise is going to be similar to Marvel's Thor: Odin banishes Thrym to Midgard in mortal form, binding Thrym's powers to a weapon (an axe in this case, rather than a hammer). Odin hopes the ordeal will impart enough wisdom and humility to result in Jotunheim being a less volatile neighbor. Or something to that effect. And for more twisting, turns out Thrym was a Queen. Undecided on how the V'sori occupation shook things up. Odin could have banished her during the occupation, where Thrym's powers, even so restricted, would have been a great boon. Or maybe she was there before, and the alien invasion just put a huge wrench in things. |