Troy was a bully and had always tried to destroy Mark's confidence. But he'd always managed to stop short of anything that would get him written up by the project's supervisors. Mark had been told once that Troy was 'well-connected' but Mark had never known to whom he was connected, or how. It had never really mattered to him, as there was little he could do about it. Now he really wondered, though, who the heck Troy knew. Because someone had set him up with super-powers.

Mark had never faced a super-powered opponent before today. Taking down Sluggo had been a team effort. Was he going to have to face Troy by himself?

It looked that way.

"You've always been jealous of me," Mark said plainly, just stating the fact. "Even when I was a child, I was stronger than you, faster than you. You want to try your luck now? That's fine. I've never been scared of you."

Mordred's eyes went wide when Morgan Le Fay appeared before him. He had not seen his aunt in some time, not since she shared the details of Arthur's sins and her intended revenge. The revelation had left him shaken to his very core. It left with two unpalatable choices: continue to serve the king who tried to kill him in infancy or risk dooming all of Camelot by joining Morgan in her quest to topple Arthur. Mordred still felt chills when he recalled her icy response to his rejection of vengeance. It was the one time Mordred truly felt afraid.

For no being in all of Mordred's wanderings, from wizards to witches, possessed the power of Morgan Le Fay and the cunning to creatively use it to devastate those who displeased her.

Mordred stumbled back as Morgan conjured her own Ebony Staff. He looked at the staff clutched in his own hand, needing to reassure himself that the weapon---perhaps the ONLY tool that could shield him from Morgan's wrath---was still with him. He brandished his own staff before him into a guard position.

"Aunt Morgan," he said as tears began to well in his eyes as the realization that the woman he considered his mother---who raised him to be the person he was today---wanted him dead as well.

"Do not do this. Please."

Le Fay observed her nephew for a moment, taking in the signs of his distress, as a mild breeze stirred the fallen leaves about them, as well as her long, raven tresses.

"You've always been jealous of me," she said finally. "Even as a child, perhaps.  And why shouldn't you be?   I'm stronger than you, and see things far more clearly. I'm one of very few to see through Arthur, and plan a reckoning with him.    You could aid me, as you were destined to.  But you have chosen to defy and oppose me instead."   She smiled coldly, and whirled the staff, causing a flare of darksome energies.

"You want to try your luck now? That's fine.  I'll teach you to be properly scared of me."

Morgan sped at him to close the distance, feinting with her first blow, then sweeping a second one straight at Mordred's neck...

* * * * * * *

Troy shook his head, tsking in a contemptful manner.   "Don't do this, Marky.  Please." 

"I mean, for your own sake.  Instead, just admit I'm right about you." He waved a hand at the crowd surrounding them.  "Admit it to them.  You'll feel tons better.  Honesty is so cleansing, such a relief!  Even when it hurts, you know?"   He smirked.

"'Course, it hurts less than this."     He swung a crude but super-swift and super-powerful haymaker punch straight at Kid Hyperion...

Mark had grown up with a lot of instructors, including literature, mathematics, history, and any other subject that one might expect from a good school system. But he was also trained in various methods of combat. Given his powers, he didn't strictly need to learn how to fight — he was infinitely faster and stronger than any opponent he was expected to fight — but he was trained in hand-to-hand combat in order to make it look good. One never knew when a camera might be present.

So despite the fact that he didn't truly expect Troy to have super-powers, Mark reflexively blocked the punch.

Or he tried to, anyway. It seemed that Troy was faster than he'd ever been before. Superhumanly so.

"Jealous?" Mordred repeated, taken aback by his aunt's revelation. Aside from momentary frustrations at the limits of his own abilities, Mordred never felt jealous of his Morgan. Save for one key difference.

"Aunt Morgan, the only thing I envy from you is that Fate gave you leave to forge your own destiny while I am bound to a Doom I may never escape from."

Mordred tried his best to parry Morgan's attack. He knew full well he could never best her. While he might be more skilled at the staff, her magic could more than compensate for her lack of prowess. This was not a fight he could win through combat. If he was to survive, he would have to suffer her wrath while appealing to whatever feelings she had left for him and his late mother, Morgause.

"If Arthur was merely a man, I would join your quest for revenge," Mordred said. "I hate him for what he did to my mother and those innocent children. But he is not simply a man. He is the King of Camelot, and no matter how justified your vengeance is, his fall would shatter the fragile peace of all Britain. And it would not be the petty kings who suffer, it would be their subjects, from the humble farmers drafted to fight such wars to their consorts who are seized by the victors.

"I could not bear such sins on my conscience, Aunt Morgan. And I know the woman who raised me to be the knight I am today would feel the same."

Scott admired the plot of land, hands jammed in his jean pockets as he listened to what Logan had to say. At the word Mephisto, though, he turned suddenly.

Wait... Something's not right... I didn't sign on with the demon until after Logan--

But he didn't want to think about that. Not on such a good day as this. While the doubt gnawed at the back of his mind, he tried to shrug it off and focus on the conversation.

"Heh. Always a kidder. So where'd you really get the cash for a place like this? Xavier's School finally start paying its babysitters?"

It was a friendly jab, only meant to poke fun at the old friend he'd lived and fought beside all those years. He'd certainly done his own share of "babysitting" when he'd served as the X-Men's field leader. It seemed so long ago. Before his friends had all--

No. Logan's right here in front of me. Maybe it was all just some kind of dream. Maybe I never failed them... Maybe they're all alive!

"Tich," sneered Le Fay, with another whirl of her flaring staff. "Such a pity that being a knight has ever been your priority, when it should've been secondary to the esoteric teachings I've tried to impress on you.  Apparently without much success!   The rabble ever think in terms of weal and woe, in the context of a pitifully small picture!   But the universe is concerned only with its larger, inviolable laws!"     She stopped the staff abruptly, leveling and pointing it at Mordred.

"And one of the chiefest of those is the Law of sacrifice!   Whenever something significant is gained, something else is lost."  She sneered again. "It's the tragedy of so many that they cannot make peace with that.   And so stunt or squander their potentials in the name of compassion.  Frequently specious compassion, I might add."  Her eyes narrowed.

"Your unwillingness to sacrifice is your weakness, nephew. And being weak, you will die here!"   

* * * * * * *

Kid Hyperion successfully blocked the massively powerful blow of his attacker.

"Not bad, not bad!   And just as well.  I don't think my patriotic conscience could've born it if I'd busted your rib cage on my first swing!" Troy grinned unpleasantly.

"But it's not you who's gonna suffer if you don't step up your game here, Marky!   It's them!"  His hand swept out toward the seated spectators.

And Troy's eyes flared crimson with swiftly building power.  Power that would be unleashed in a searing, deadly arc across the hapless audience, if Kid Hyperion didn't stop him now...

* * * * * * *

Logan grinned. "You're thinkin' Scotty, I can tell!   You do a lot of that, I know.   Too much. That's what's kinda great 'bout havin' a job, you know?   Doesn't leave ya time for rearrangin' all those mental deck chairs!  And, like I said, I got me a great ol' job now!"

Logan's grin broadened and he raised a fist.   With a familiar 'snikt' his claws extended instantly from his knuckle bones.

They were not forged of the familiar, gleaming adamantium. Instead they were deepest black -- not metal, not stone -- but the utter and soul-chilling darkness of absolute void.

"Mephisto says it's time to pay up, Bub!  Here's the end o' the line for you!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:59, Sat 31 Dec 2022.

Troy having laser vision was as much of a surprise as his having super-strength. He'd gotten himself super-powers somehow, but they seemed to be the same powers as Mark's. Was this a lack of imagination, or what?

Regardless, he needed to be kept from incinerating the bystanders. Protecting the innocent was one of Mark's primary directives. His eyes widened, glowing a bright red, and then he fired his own laser vision at Troy, hopefully interrupting him from his lethal brand of mayhem.

Solo: d8
Truth, Justice & a Better Tomorrow: d8
Heat Vision: d10
Combat Expert: d8

Kid Hyperion rolled 2,3,5,5 using d8,d8,d10,d8 ((2,3,5,5)).

Total: 10
Effect: d8

Barbara watched the woman shrouded by the mists of Niflheim approach her. Battle instincts took over, as the Valkyrie withdrew Dragonfang. She knew the fearsome figure who approached—Hela, Queen  of Hel, the Goddess of Death dreaded by Asgardian, Vanir, & mortal alike. Though it likely meant her own death, Barbara would fight with all the fury of the Valkyrie.

Then, Barbara’s jaw dropped when she saw the fearsome woman pull back the horned cowl. “It can’t be…!” Her voice stammered haltingly. “You died, but you shouldn’t be here.” But wasn’t Niflheim where all the souls who died of illness, old age, or misfortune dwelled? Celeste died in a car crash. The result of careless mortal error.

Of course her mother would be there. “Mother, I won’t let this wretched place keep either of us.” Valkyrie charged the intimidating foe who wore her mother’s face. She feinted with Dragonfang, then thrust an elbow toward Celeste’s face!

OOC:

02:41, Today: Valkyrie rolled 8,3,3,5,9 using 1d8,1d8,1d10,1d8,1d10.  Overpower Celeste.

Solo: d8
Born Again Asgardian Goddess: d8
Superhuman Strength: d8
Dragonfang: D8
Combat Master: d10

Total: 17
Effect: d8
Opportunity: 0

PP: 1





This message was last edited by the player at 07:50, Wed 11 Jan 2023.

One mention of Mephisto could be dismissed as a joke. Two-- accompanied by an obvious threat, no less-- was asking for trouble. Scott's easy smile vanished as he took a step back from Logan's claws. One hand reflexively gripped the red sunglasses, ready to pull them from his face and unleash his power at any moment.

"What you've done was reckless, even for you. Don't make me do this, Logan."

Inflict Emotional Stress on Logan.

Solo d10
Avenging the X-Men d4 (+1 PP) (He's my fallen friend)
Menace Expert 2d6

19:08, Today: Specter rolled 5,3,6,3 using d10,d4,1d6,1d6.  Try to talk Logan down.

Total: 14 (-1 PP for 3rd die)
Effect: d6
Opportunities: 0
PP's: 2 (from Msg #127) +/- 1 = 2

Next: Mordred

Mordred furrowed his brow as Morgan le Fay continued to speak. He was perplexed by how she ignored his reference to her deceased sister and his own mother, Morgause. That seemed uncharacteristic of his aunt. However, given the dark dabblings she had taken up as of late, it was possible that the Morgan he considered his surrogate mother was buried beneath whatever had spurred her to move against him.

However, it also offered an opportunity to cheat prophecy.

Mordred took a breath through his nose and let it out in a long, soft, sad sigh.

"Perhaps I have learned such a lesson, Aunt Morgan," Mordred said as he knelt on the ground and rested the Ebony Staff on his legs. "Perhaps it is my death here by your hands that spares Camelot from the doom Fate saw fit to place on me."

OOC:

I don't know if there are any dice I should roll. This is more a roleplaying choice of leaning into "Morgan's" Law of Sacrifice. Mordred's loss is Camelot's great gain.

"Aye, perhaps it's so, stripling!" replied Le Fey to Mordred.    "I'm done with you and I say let's find out, shall we?" Morgan too rested her staff.   But her nephew should take no comfort from that --  as her eyes widened, glowing bright crimson, and twin lances of hellfire shot at him.

Mordred, Reaction:  (free to be taken out of the normal turn sequence)   You must defend (or not) against Kid Hypersion's laser vision attack:
Total - 10
Effect - d8

Mordred, to answer your question:   You would roll dice only if you were attempting to stress or psych your target out in someway.     If you do want to try, it will be reinterpreted at Kid as baiting by his foe.

Kid Hyperion:   Mordred's reaction will be reinterpreted (by me) as your opponent's defense, or lack of same.   So hang tight till he does his post.

Val & Specter, you two are next, hold on there...

This message was last edited by the GM at 00:18, Wed 01 Feb 2023.

"What you're doing is reckless, even for you!  Don't make me do this, daughter!" she said with a condescending sneer, even as she was forced to defend herself.

The figure the Vakyrie faced possessed the darksome power of Hela, combined with the identity of the mother with whom she'd had such a conflicted, confusing relationship.    And the words bore the gravity of that unholy twinning:

Val, Reaction,  to resist Specter's stress attack:
Total - 14
Effect - d6

* * * * * * * * *

“Scotty, this wretched ol' world was never any good for any o' us! Maybe Hell is better? Let me help ya get there, and ya can tell me how ya like it!”

Logan thrust at Specter with the void-black claws.   But it was just a feint, and he came in with an elbow intended to incapacitate...

Specter, Reaction to defend against Val's elbow attack:

Total - 17
Effect - d8

* * * * * * * * *

As with the other pair, the Reactions here will determine how your foe handles your attack.

Alone and accepting his death, Mordred bowed his head and let the hellfire strike him. Despite his melancholic acceptance of his death, he was spared by two things. First, training and surviving as a Knight of Camelot had forged him into stronger stuff than the average human. Second, the Ebony Staff---Merlin's gift to Arthur's unfortunate son---still touched him. Morgan's hellfire felt hot against Mordred's skin, but left him unsinged.

Mordred opened his eyes as the spell failed to end him. He sized up Morgan and his eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Aunt Morgan, do you toy with your nephew? I thought your magic to be stronger than that..."

OOC:

Reaction-Defense
Solo d8
Knight out of Time d4 (+1PP)
Combat Master d10
Ebony Staff-Superhuman Durability d10

20:48, Today: Mordred rolled 5,3,10,6 using 1d8,1d4,1d10,1d10 with rolls of 5,3,10,6.  Defense.

Total: 16

Troy laughed unpleasantly, unconcerned, but making a show of being caught off guard, as Mark's laser vision struck him and failed to have much effect.

"Marky boy, what, you just screwing around here?  I thought you had better than that in you!"

The audience sitting in the stadium around them started to boo and jeer.   Apparently thinking that Kid Hyperion had tried to sort of sucker punch his adversary.

Troy smacked a fist into a palm and grinned.  "Heh. Guess they're not fans. And I got that in common with them.  But I'm fair, I'll give you one more shot, before I really cut lose!"   

Mordred gripped the Ebony Staff once more and slowly rose to his feet. As he did, he sized up his adversary. Mordred had never tried to openly defy his aunt, seeing the suffering she inflicted on those who crossed her as reason enough never to try. However, he had never had to test himself against her sorcery---and certainly never with the Ebony Staff at his side.

The Ebony Staff. It was a unique artifact, from a set of four forged by Merlin from the mysterious starmetal. And yet Morgan now possessed one, a perfect twin to the one in his possession. Perhaps his aunt had finally bested her former mentor and betrothed, and wrested the Blade, Chalice, and Shield from the wizard's grip to create her own weapon. Or perhaps this was an illusion, an act of guile to rattle his own certainty that the Staff still was in his possession. Still, such trickery seemed half-complete if Mordred could still see, feel, and use the Ebony Staff against her. The Morgan he remembered would never overlook such a glaring flaw in her scheme.

"I wonder," Mordred mused softly as he used his own magical prowess to reconnoiter his predicament. "Is my Doom so certain that even your magic cannot prevent it, or is something else at play..."

OOC:

Solo d8
Suspicious d4 (+1PP)
Mystic Expert d8
Mutant Mage-Mystic Senses d6

14:28, Today: Mordred rolled 3,3,3,3 using 1d8,1d4,1d8,1d6 with rolls of 3,3,3,3.  Surmount the Nightmare.

I'll spend the PP from Suspicious to add another die for a total of 9 and use one of the d8s as my effect (if necessary).

Scott grabbed Logan's elbow before the blow connected.

"I'll do you one better than that," Specter growled. "How's this, Logan? Feeling the heat?"

Searing hellfire flared around his hand as he gripped onto Logan. With the other hand, he whipped the sunglasses off his face and levelled an optic blast right at his attacker's chest. The eyebeams were unreliable these days-- and much weaker than they used to be-- but Scott figured he had enough juice to knock a bit of sense into his old friend.

Blocking Logan's attack.

Solo d10
Avenging the X-Men d8
Hellfire d8
Optic Blast d6

21:28, Today: Specter rolled 1,7,8,6 using 1d10,1d8,1d8,1d6.  Scott grapples with Logan.

I'll spend 1 of my 2 PP's to add a 3rd die to the total.

Total: 21
Effect: d4 (default)
Opportunities: 1
PP's: 1

This was just a reaction, so I figure Logan/Val takes no stress.

Edit: Adding my Penance attack.

As Scott tried to let go of Logan and let the blast carry him away, the Spirit of Vengeance inside his head laughed. Refusing to let go of Logan's arm, Zarathos gripped tighter and whispered:

"I have a better idea. Why don't we take a peek inside his soul... with our Penance Touch?"

Using the Penance Touch against Logan.

Solo d10
Avenging the X-Men d4 (+1 PP, Scott fears hurting Logan)
Hellfire 2d8 (doubled from SFX)
Menace Expert 2d6

SFX: Penance Touch. Against a single target, step up or double Hellfire Blast. Remove the highest-rolling die and add a third die to your total.

21:51, Today: Specter rolled 3,4,4,5,2,6 using 1d10,1d4,1d8,1d8,1d6,1d6.  Scott uses the Penance Touch on Logan.

Total: 13
Effect: d10
Opportunities: 0
PP's: 1 + 1 - 1 = 1
This message was last edited by the player at 04:58, Thu 30 Mar 2023.

Barbara felt a nausea as her “mother’s” words stung her. Not so much what she said, but the crisp Patrician tone that always elicited shame when Celeste chided Barbara, and elicited an equally desperate yearning for her approval. A multilayered barrage of Guilt, Shame, & Sorrow struck Barbara, but still she stood strong. “Your threat won’t stay my hand, Mother!” The Daughter had spoken, but it was time for the Valkyrie to answer the taunts…


OOC:

14:57, Today: Secret Roll: Valkyrie rolled 5,8,1,8 using d8,d8,d10,d8.  Reaction Vs. Penance Stare.

Total: 16.
Effect: d8.
Opportunity: 1



 

Though something felt wrong to Sir Mordred, his effort to attain clarity didn't bear the fruits he'd hoped.    His senses continued to assert that his situation was tangibly real...

Morgan le Fay's features twisted into a sneer at the knight's attempt.

"Well, I don't know, nephew.   What do you think might be at play, hm?    Do you think this all some elaborate glamer, spun by dear Mab, perhaps?   Or just some bent dream, brought on by month after wearing month of serving causes that serve others far more than they do you?"   She shrugged. "Maybe you've slipped at last, could it be?"

Morgan's expression abrubtly changed then, and she looked at him differently.  Seeming to peer within, perhaps..."Wait... what is that I see?"  She frowned, repeated, "What is that?"  Her eyes narrowed.

"Tell me all about this shard, I command you!"

She means the Shard of Eternity, that Strange tasked you all to find.
Sundown Scribe rolled 9,11,5,4,3,4 using d12,d12,d12,d10,d10,d8.  Nightmare mind sifting v. Mordred.          Total = 25  Effect = D10

Make a dice pool, beat the 25 total, or reveal in detail about the shard to Nightmare.    (I realize it's been awhile, if you need me to refresh your memory, PM me)   

* * * * * * * * *

Still facing Mark, the bravado-filled Troy seemed to hesitate.    And something seemed off to the paragon hero for a second.   It was hard to put a finger on, and for all his training and might, Mark wasn't psychically sensitive.    Yet, maybe it was enough to notice...

If you want to, make a dice pool relevant to piercing this false reality.   You need a pretty high total to pull it off.

* * * * * * * * *

Results for Val & Specter coming up next...

During her young life, Barbara had endured all manner of withering, belittling looks from her mother when she was in one of her moods.  Though now far from the child who'd had to endure them, the impression of it was still there.    Perhaps she'd even likened her mother to a demon, on occasion...but there was something about this gaze that made that an almost palpable reality.

Surely, it was from Hela's infernal power, that had somehow been conferred to Celeste.  Didn't that explain it-?

Demon...a thought, buried deep down in her mind, jingled and glinted faintly.   Was there something she should remember?

Val, you can try a dice pool roll to remember your ally who is host to a demon, and possibly see though the matrix.   (again, we need high rolls, here)   

* * * * * * * * *

At first, Scott thought that Zarathos' ploy might just work.  He could feel Logan's soul react almost like flesh exposed to naked flame, as a toxic cocktail of Guilt, Shame, & Sorrow was served up by some combination of emotional scars and wounds.

But that soul rallied and asserted itself, fending off the harrowing assault that would've disabled one of lesser mettle.

"Your threats won't stop me, bub!"   yelled Logan.

"Ha!  Ain't this a blast?  C'mon, c'mon!   Gimme your worst, quick, before I do what you'll regret for eternity!"   

"No!" Mark shouted. He was tired of Troy's game, and he wasn't going to play it. And the crowd meant nothing to him, so he ignored their jeers.
 "You want me, you come at me!"

"What shard?" Mordred began to ask, before flickers of foggy memories began to flit toward the forefront of his mind. Something instinctive told him to resist, but whatever compulsion Morgan cast upon him was too strong.

Still, Mordred tried to resist. But his attempts resulted in sharp, blinding pain searing into his head. The knight let out a scream of fury, anguish, and shame as he succumbed to his aunt's command...

OOC:

Pool:
Team D10
Sorcerer's Apprentice D8
Psych Master D10
Mystic Senses d6

15:35, Today: Mordred rolled 6,5,8,4 using d10,d8,d10,d6: Total of 14, fails

Infernal…Mother may have been a witch at her worst, even the Devil…but she was no true Demon of Muspelheim…!

Barbara stared quizzically at “Celeste”. The patrician woman who wore Hela’s raiment elicited a churning mix of guilt, shame, and rage at first. However, the longer she stared at her maternal tormentor, the more doubt stirred within her. “Mother is dead…and whatever her faults, she didn’t end up in Hel.”

Valkyrie spoke with the beginning of defiance, though she wasn’t still wasn’t entirely certain yet.

OOC:

Solo d8

Born Again Asgardian Goddess d8

Enhanced Senses d8

Mystical Expert d8

16:20, Today: Valkyrie rolled 8,6,5,2 using d8,d8,d8,d8.  See through the illusion.

Total: 14

Effect: d8 (vs. Nightmare’s illusion?)

Opportunity: 0


 

What happened next was almost like glass shattering, but felt within the psyche rather than seen and heard.

Nightmare's matrix fractured and suddenly ceased to exist.  Certainly the heroes' perception of its flaws and their subsequent refutation of it were part of why that happened.

But the other part was the knowledge he'd plucked from Mordred's mind.   Which filled even him with horror.

The fantastic foursome found themselves back in the gleaming, adamantium hall of the Underground, which they'd never physically left.   Facing the real face and form of the being who'd psychically waylaid them.

Nightmare's chalk-white features grimaced, his emerald lips pulled back from his teeth in an almost feral expression.

"I know...I know why Strange sent you all here!  And by all the Demons of Denak, such a thing is..." he shook his head almost frantically, "..beyond comprehension!   That anyone, mortal or immortal, would think of going that far!" He snarled.

"This universe is my playing field!  Its slumbering masses my sustenance, my unwitting audience!"  His eyes narrowed.

"There is little direct aid I can offer.  My presence in Sundown City is only due to a loophole, my powers not at their peak. But I can point you toward one who should help you in your objective."   

Well, well...to believe this evil entity or not?    A simple decision, but not necessarily an easy one...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 03:44, Tue 02 May 2023.

"Understand this," Mark said, his eyes literally glowing with his anger at this chalk-faced creep. "If you steer us wrong, we will come seeking retribution."