Amelia

Slight edit to Octoman's latest IC post after the fact, to account for his deafness.

Octoman "WHOA!" Octoman had been occasionally glancing back and forth at the city skyline around him, and when he saw that Bombshell was suddenly there, his costume turned completely bright red from head to toe. His two existing tentacles started to fumble with his smartphone. It bounced back and forth between them, and suddenly six more tentacles burst out of his back and the sides of his torso, and another two out of his forearms. The added participants didn't seem to make the effort go any more smoothly, but eventually, seemingly by accident, the phone got stuck to some of the suckers on one of the tentacles, and stopped threatening to fall onto the roof. His shoulders sagged as he breathed a sigh of relief, and his costume returned to its original yellow, black, and blue color scheme. "...I guess now I have a blooper reel?" He turned around in time to read her lips and catch the back half of what she had said. One of his tentacles shot out toward Bombshell and stuck to the edge of the roof next to her. A moment later, the tentacle retracted, bringing Octoman, who was suddenly laying on his side and supporting his head with one hand while the other hand rested on his hip, sliding over the roof to meet her. "Heyyy." A chunk of his chest the shape of a heart, not an actual human heart but the heart symbol, started rising and falling like a piston. "We don't have to choose between thrilling heroics and suggestive banter. We can multi-task." He pointed two finger-guns at her and winked. Then, startlingly, he leapt to his feet, and his whole demeanor changed. He made large and frequent gestures with his hands and arms as he talked. "NAHHH. I'm smooth, but I'm not THAT smooth. I mean, you're BOMBSHELL, right? Like, THE Bombshell? Yeah, that's out of my league. I don't even play the same SPORT. But seriously, wow. Just, WOW. Meeting a member of Geckoman's team, it's an honor, TRULY. The Interceptors, the HOME TEAM, I know everything ABOUT you guys, and after this, I have SO MANY QUESTIONS. But right now, like you said, people to save. I know the vlog might look like it's in bad taste, but if that idiot down there gets lucky and kills me, UNLIKELY, I know, BUT, then at least I left something behind, y'know? DAMN you smell good. I'm sorry, I don't mean that in, like, a CREEPY way." He pointed at his nose. "I smell good. I mean, not like that...it's Old Spice, so probably...but I mean I can smell A LOT, y'know?" He pointed at one of the suckers on his tentacle. "It's these guys, I think. I smell ALL the things. And most of 'em don't smell anywhere NEAR as good as you. I swear I don't mean that in a creepy way, but I'm also not sure there IS a not-creepy way. Wait, what...Right." His hands moved from left to right, back and forth between each phrase. "THE GUY. WITH THE GUN. AND THE POWERS. BUT MOSTLY THE GUN." He gestured toward his own chest. "Shot..." Then at Bombshell. "...Chaser." His tentacles shot out again, this time toward the edge of the roof over the half of the building containing the fifth-floor apartment in question. He let them pull his body up over the edge. The momentum sent him tumbling down straight through the broken window, now shattered, and into Olivia Lenkiewicz's apartment. He landed in a crouch, with one hand, one knee, and both feet touching the floor, tentacles floating all around him. "NAILED IT."

Power Level: 10 Tradeoffs: -2 Attack / +2 Damage, -2 Defense / +2 Toughness Power Points: 132 ABILITIES 0PP Strength: 35/10 (+12/+0), 45/10 Lifting Dexterity: 10 (+0) Constitution: 34/10 (+12/+0) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 10 (+0) Charisma: 10 (+0) COMBAT 32PP Initiative: +0 (+0 Dex) Attack: +8 Melee (+6 Base, -2 Size, +4 Attack Focus [Melee]), +4 Ranged (+6 Base, -2 Size) Damage: +12 Unarmed Grapple: +28 (+8 Melee Attack, +12 Strength, +8 Size) Defense: +8 (+10 Base, -2 Size), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback Resistance: 14 SAVING THROWS 16PP Toughness: +12 (+12 Con) Fortitude: +12 (+12 Con, +0PP) Reflex: +8 (+0 Dex, +8PP) Will: +8 (+0 Wis, +8PP) SKILLS 0R = 0PP Intimidation 0 (+0, +4 Size) Stealth 0 (+0) FEATS 4PP Attack Focus (Melee) 4 POWERS 80PP Vehicle Form 16 (80PP Container [Active]) [80PP] Disability (No Hands, Frequency: Very Common, Intensity: Moderate) [-4PP] Enhanced Constitution 16 [16PP] Enhanced Strength 9 [9PP] Enhanced Skills 8 (Stealth 8 ) [2PP] (Stealth Mode) Environment Control 2 (Light [Level 2], Area: 10ft radius, Extras: Action 2 [Free], Drawbacks: Reduced Range [5 20ft Range Increments = 100ft Max Range]) [7PP] Features 1 (Internal Compartment) [1PP] Growth 8 (Size: Huge, Size Modifiers: +16 Strength [+26 Lifting], +8 Constitution, -2 Attack, -2 Defense, +8 Grapple, +8 Knockback Resistance, +4 Intimidation, -8 Stealth) [24PP] Morph 4 (+20 Disguise, Any Vehicle) [8PP] Protection 2 [2PP] Super-Senses 3 (Darkvision, Infravision) [3PP] (Descriptors: Infrared headlights and windshield for Stealth Mode) Vehicular Movement 5 (10PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 2) [12PP] Base Power: Flight 5 (250MPH / 2,500ft per Move Action) [10PP] Alternate Power: Speed 5 (250MPH / 2,500ft per Move Action, Feats: Subtle) [6PP] (Descriptors: Subtle power feat = Electric back-up motor for Stealth Mode) Alternate Power: Swimming 5 (50MPH / 500ft per Move Action) [5PP]

Octoman "Oh HELL no, not in MY neighborhood is he pulling this crap!" Octoman shouted without thinking in reply to the police sergeant's description. The sergeant cocked his head and squinted, studying the "detective" more closely. "I mean...uh...gotta go." Octoman vanished from sight as his skin once again took on the colors of his surroundings. The sergeant jumped back. His hand instinctively grabbed the gun on his belt, though he stopped short of drawing it. While Octoman invisibly backed away, the sergeant grabbed his shoulder radio. "Dispatch, Sergeant Collins in the West End here. We got an ETA on STARs?" Still invisible, Octoman let the skin on his hands and feet unfold, covering them in suckers which he used to scale the side of the apartment building. He'd wound up approaching from the opposite direction as Bombshell, but they arrived on the roof at about the same time. Octoman, thinking he was alone, shifted his skin colors back to his costume as soon as he swung himself over the roof's edge. Then he reached into the "pocket" he'd formed out of his own skin, and pulled out his smartphone. Two of his tentacles sprouted from his back and took the phone from his hands, holding it slightly above him. "WHAT UP FAM, IT'S YA BOY, the Crime-Fighting Kraken himself, that's right, the OUTRAGEOUS Octoman, doing my first ever vlog and my FIRST EVER superhero gig!" He then made what appeared to be his attempt at mimicking a rapid-firing air horn. "You all are my DAY-ONES, getting in on the ground floor, which is funny, 'cause as you can see..." His tentacles turned and tilted the phone. "...I'm actually on a freakin' ROOFTOP. Some nasty stuff's goin' on under me, a very bad man gettin' high and hurtin' his wife and kids, and we don't PLAY THAT in Freedom City, ESPECIALLY not here in the WEST! END! Our hero, Geckoman, might be retired or lost in space or something, but don't worry, Guys, I'M here, I'm pickin' up the slack..." He balled his hands into fists and weaved back and forth while throwing a one-two punch combination as he finished the sentence. "...And I'm TAKING. CARE. Of BUSINESS."

GM Mister Strix's mesmerism never fooled Dead Head. When he ran around the block, Dead Head saw him go by, a white blur. When Dead Head first reached the townhouse block, he felt the familiar tingle in the back of his head that magic always caused. The closer he got to the Delgado residence, the stronger he felt the presences, and the more clearly he could separate them. There were three in total. The first, he couldn't identify, save that it was by far the strongest, and nothing like the other two. Of those, he recognized one as Mister Strix immediately, even before he watched the vampire run by. He'd become quite familiar with that presence. The third and final one, he could have mistaken for Strix if he didn't focus more intently upon it. The two weren't identical, but the differences were slight. When he thought about Strix, the first thing that always came to mind was a canvas, painted completely black. This new presence made him think of a similar same canvas, but with a layer of red paint underneath the black, peeking through it in cracks and splotches, as though the black topcoat weren't as thick. There was a back door on Dead Head's side of the townhouse, and it did indeed have a dog door. He would be able to contort his way into the kitchen without alerting the cops, or probably anyone else in the house. The downstairs area had a living room in front, a kitchen in back, and a dining area between them. Lady Horus was able to take stock before the cops had even stepped out of their vehicle. It seemed like an ordinary family home. There were pictures on the walls, books on the shelves, and toys on the floor. The pictures showed a man, a woman, and a child, a little boy. The man hadn't even been lying about the cold food sitting on the kitchen table. There were three chairs, but there was only one plate of food. The only truly unusual part of the house was that the pictures also included a dog, a mutt that looked like he had a lot of Chow Chow in him. There were bowls for him in the kitchen, near the back door. There was a leash for him hanging by the front door. But the dog was nowhere to be found. When Lady Horus creeped up the stairs, she saw the adult man from the pictures in profile, sighing and resting his head on the crown molding around one of the bedroom doors. The child's voice was coming from the other side of the door, which he didn't try to open at any point during the negotiations. Mutt, meanwhile, being able to fly through the walls, could take in the whole scene. He telepathically relayed everything he saw and heard back to Dead Head. The person on the other side of the bedroom door was indeed the little boy shown in the photographs, and the room was clearly his room, filled with all the usual trappings of lower middle class American childhood. The kid was hiding under his bed, staring at his bedroom door. He'd been crying. He had bags under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. The older of the two patrol cops banged his fist on the front door. "POLICE! OPEN UP!" he shouted, but his relaxed posture didn't show any of the urgency suggested by his voice. Inside the house, the man calmly made his way downstairs. Lady Horus was able to stay out of his way, and he showed no signs of noticing her. He walked over to the door, opened it, and smiled warmly. "Good evening, Officers. Can I help you with something?" The older cop spoke up first. The younger one kept glancing at him. "We got a 911 call from this address about a possible assault. You know anything about that? Mind if we come in and take a look around?" The man's eyes widened. "'Assault?' '911?' No, I don't know anything about that, but please, come inside. I think there's been a misunderstanding." He stepped aside, and the two cops walked through the door. Mister Strix walked in behind them, slipping through before the man closed the door.

Yep.

Mister Strix The man in white ran as fast as a car could drive, sometimes faster, since he didn't have to worry about traffic. He could jump over any intervening cars or pedestrians, and most of the buildings in Bedlam. When a building was too tall to clear in a single bound, he could cling to the side like a spider. He used his hypnotic power to cloud the minds of everyone around him the whole way. He wasn't as fast as Lady Horus, but he still made it across the river and into the heart of Hardwick Park in a matter of minutes, and no one saw him either. Still hidden from the minds of others, he made a quick circuit of the block, and still reached the front door of the Delgado residence before the two uniformed police officers, but he waited for them, crouching against the wall beside the door.

The windows are locked, yeah. But if she wants to avoid being spotted by the cops who just pulled up, she could easily duck down behind the opposite side of the townhouse block before teleporting. The voices are both coming from the second story, so her best bet is probably to jump in at the ground level. The cops aren't moving very quickly, so she'd easily have time to jump in and re-activate her Concealment before they reach the door.

By "flies in", do you mean "into the house"? If so, is she teleporting in, or is she actually breaking through the door or one of the windows?

GM The Hardwick Park townhouse was quiet when Lady Horus arrived. It was one in the middle of a row of several just like it. The car parked on the curb in front of it was obviously a rental. The lights were still on inside. As she got closer, she could hear voices arguing. It sounded like an adult man and a child. In calm, even tones, but with a voice raised loud enough to be heard through a closed door, the man pleaded with the child to "Be reasonable" and "Open the door". Mention was made of dinner having gotten cold, of it already being past bed-time, with school in the morning. "Your mom will be OK." When the child responded at all, it was to yell things like "GO AWAY", "NUH UH", "YOU'RE LYING", and "IF I OPEN THE DOOR YOU'LL EAT ME, TOO!" Surprisingly enough, Lady Horus then saw the flashing red and blue lights of a Bedlam patrol cruiser pull up toward the townhouse.

Mister Strix Guy had "slept in", still not back to his usual routine after having taken a night off to rest and recover from his latest ordeal. He hadn't even gotten dressed yet when Dead Head knocked on the door to his suite, which Guy answered with wet hair, wearing nothing but a towel. Before Burt could tell him what was going on, Guy interrupted him with an odd question. "How does my neck look?" He pointed his head up toward the ceiling, exposing skin below his jaw that was as pale and unblemished as the rest of him. "Mirrors," he muttered as the sole initial explanation. A few moments later, he he added "I found out the hard way the other night that cutting my head off doesn't actually kill me. It's like the stake; just puts me to sleep." When he did finally let Burt get a word in edgewise, his face hardened at the news and he sprang into action, pulling a fresh costume from a hanger in his closet, where it had dangled next to half a dozen more just like it. He went through so many of them that he'd had to reassign two of the damned souls to assist the Lodge's in-house tailor. "I'll head straight over and meet you there."

@alderwitch You can post whenever you're ready. Feel free to have Bombshell find out about this and get involved however you want.

GM The patrol cop sent Octoman over to the uniformed sergeant in command of the scene. "Wow, you sure got here fast. Lessee..." He checked his notepad. "Holed up in a three-bedroom flat on the west side of the building, fifth floor out of eight. One rogue metahuman, armed. Josef Bankowski, age 27. Five hostages that we know of; Olivia Lenkiewicz, age 26, the former Mrs. Bankowski. Their two kids, Mia and Gabriel, ages 9 and 6. Her mother, age 47, and her new boyfriend. Got nothing on him yet. Mr. and Mrs. Bankowski have been separated for two years. Divorce was finalized a year ago. She got the kids. He got a restraining order and garnished wages for unpaid child support. Been living with his brother since she kicked him out. Smacked her and the kids around, cheated on her, spent all their money on drugs, just a real pillar of the community all around. Brother says he's hopped up on both Max and Zoom. I'm old enough to remember when a 'powerball' was just coke and smack, but times they are a changin'. He came knockin' today, wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. She had a gun, but he took it, so now he has a gun. One shot fired when we got close, no casualties yet that we know of. We set up a perimeter and evacuated the building. Now we're just waiting on STARs."

Octoman OK, showtime. Gotta play this cool. Get the intel first, then yeet through the window. Octoman flexed more of his new muscles to change the pigmentation of his skin. Now it matched the world around him so well, he was effectively invisible. He knelt down, and pushed his body through the space of only a few inches between the bars of one of the metal barricades. SQUISH. Then he crept up to one of the patrol cars and crouched down behind it, looking up at himself in the side mirror. His skin began to shift again, this time to resemble the plainclothes detectives he'd seen on television. Lessee...No, can't go full Benjamin Bratt, too pretty. Dial it back to like, 75% Bratt, and 25% Edward James Olmos angry dad energy...Nice. Octoman flashed a thumbs-up at the mirror, then stood up from behind the police cruiser, now looking like he'd just walked off the set of a network procedural. A gold shield against a black leather square hung from a chain around his neck, resting over his business suit. He walked up to one of the uniformed officers. He tried to make his voice as gravelly as possible. "Diaz, Major Crimes. Whatta we got?"

GM Ben couldn't listen to a radio, police band or otherwise. But he could set up search engine alerts and social media feeds. He could gain access to restricted computer systems without getting caught. And he could write a program that would organize that data into something streamlined and manageable. His phone started buzzing at him. The Freedom City police were responding to a hostage situation at an apartment building less than ten blocks away. It was a building that Ben had walked or been driven past a thousand times. Metahuman involvement was confirmed.

Octoman Ben Wang intended to take full advantage of the summer months to get the hang of this superhero thing before school started back up. The weekday morning found him on the roof of his West End apartment complex, shifting the colors and textures of his skin, and recreated the costume he'd only drawn on paper. OK, that doesn't look right in 3-D...darken that part, brighten up this one...now we're in business. He took a few deep breaths to fill up his internal bladders. Then he crouched down and flexed muscles no other person had, forcing the air through his internal siphon and expelling it through the now-open valves in his hands and feet. He shot off into the air like a rocket. "AWWW YEAAAHHH!" Tentacles sprouted from his body while he soared over the buildings. Once he started to lose momentum, the tentacles stretched out for dozens, sometimes hundreds of feet, slapping against whatever building was in reach. The suckers lining the tenacles stuck to any surface, and the tentacles could retract as quickly and forcefully as they expanded, pulling the rest of his body through the air to meet them. He held his smartphone with one of the tentacles, using the tip to press the virtual button. As he bounced around between buildings, he took a series of candid action shots, and a few plain old selfies. What has two thumbs and doesn't need a transit card anymore? While being pulled toward the side of a building at 25MPH by what was basically a motorized winch in tentacle form, he actually took the time to raise two fists and point his thumbs at his own chest as he completed the thought. THIS GUY.

Enhanced By Durf Please use the 1PP of Equipment Dead Head is investing in the Twilight Lodge (the HQ is on Mister Strix's sheet) to add the following Feature: Communications (Feats: Dimensional 3 [Any/All]) (Descriptors: Interdimensional Ghost-Phone) That'll cost 4EP. The Lodge will have 1EP unspent for now.

Cool, I remembered that correctly. OK, @Avenger Assembled, I made another GM post in the IC thread to loop in Wadjet and Horus. Feel free to post there whenever. With her speed (five times as fast as Strix on his best day), Horus will most likely get there first.

GM Meanwhile, on the other side of the Manitowoc River, Esperanza Azul heard the same dispatch come over her own police radio. A child, Esteban Delgado, had called 911, stating that his father Javier had attacked the boy's mother. The child described his father as having "turned into a monster", which the operator assumed was exaggeration. They were treating it like any other domestic disturbance call. One car supposedly was on its way to the residence, which happened to be a townhouse right there in Hardwick Park. But it sounded like they were taking their time. Unfortunately, domestic disturbance calls weren't unusual in any part of Bedlam City, and between the low likelihood of collecting any kind of bribe and the average Bedlam patrol officer's tendency to vent their daily frustrations on their own family, they were rarely made a priority. There was no guarantee the patrol car would show up at all.

The young vigilante couldn't tell if the man in white didn't hear her admonishment through his half-starved blood-soaked haze, or if he was just ignoring her. He sliced his tongue with one of his elongated canine teeth, willed a drop of his blood to rise from the wound, and licked the cultist's throat. The punctures vanished from the man's neck, and with them, any sign that Mister Strix had fed upon him. Strix slowly rose to his feet. His sleeve was still shredded cloth loosely hanging from his arm, but his pale flesh mended itself seamlessly in a matter of seconds. His eyes were completely black, as were the veins bulging from his arms and neck. His shoulders remained hunched over as he trudged over to the next nearest cultist. He knelt back down onto the ground, grabbed the cultist's robe, pulled them up off the ground, and sank his fangs into their neck, drinking from them as well. He seemed oblivious to all else.

@Dr Archeville Dead-Head is up in the IC thread. @Avenger Assembled You expressed interest in bringing Horus into this thread. Assuming you're still interested, do Horus and/or Wadjet monitor the police bands? Or should I have her randomly hear the call over a nearby patrol cop's radio? Or is there some other way you'd like her to be alerted to the situation?

GM One small room in the Twilight Lodge was dedicated to the monitoring of an old radio which had been illegally modified to pick up police and emergency service bands. Two of the damned servants were in the room at all times, listening for any events which might require Mister Strix's intervention. The electromagnetic interference generated by the clubhouse caused frequent static, and the overburdened channels were frequently jammed with traffic, but occasionally, something slipped through. One of the spectres on monitor duty rose from its perch in the radio room and drifted through the walls of the Lodge. She stopped in front of the first club member she happened to see: Burt Lee. "Excuse me, Sire." The translucent image of a woman in a hundred-year-old maid's uniform floated in front of Dead-Head. There were no legs sticking out from under her dress, which was splattered with blood. It was difficult to make eye contact with her, since her neck had been almost complete severed, and her head rested on its side, perpendicular to the rest of the body to which it was barely attached. "The radio picked up a dispatch I think The Prez'dint would wanna know 'bout. Domestic call. 'ardwick Park. Some lad says his da's turned into a monstah. The wight working the radio room with me, he's writin' down the address now. I'm not that good with a pen yet, what with 'avin' ta use me mind and all."

Mister Strix As he regained consciousness, Strix's hands shot toward his neck. The fabric linking his cowl to his shirt was completely ripped apart, but his flesh felt whole. His head had been torn off, but then reattached. Heh, he mused to himself. Like he said. He taught me something after all. The wry amusement quickly curdled into genuine despair. Oh no. Not even beheading is enough to finally kill me. Looking around, he realized that Johann had not dropped him in just any random sewer, but right outside the secret sewer entrance to the Twilight Lodge. So he knows everything. Strix dragged himself up into the clubhouse. Blood. And rest. Then I'll figure out what the bastard was talking about.

GM Johann's black eyes widened as his vampire child expressed his disdain, his contempt. He surged forward, faster than even Strix's own black eyes could follow, grabbing Strix's neck again and lifting him up off of his feet. He walked over to the edge of the Gorman roof and dangled Strix over it. "How dare you?! HOW DARE YOU?! You ungrateful, insolent whelp!" He bared his fangs and growled like a tiger. "You could not possibly know of that which you speak! We watched empires rise and fall! Your tiny mortal mind cannot conceive of a bond such as ours! And all that glory was snuffed out like a candle flame by an insignificant speck! It's unthinkable! It's unforgivable! You have not yet begun to suffer in kind!" Johann pulled Strix's face toward his own until their noses just barely touched. "You will learn, my child. I will teach you how little mortal life matters. You will try to save them, and they will break you with their failure. Their cowardice. Some day, you will come to me, crawling on your hands and knees, begging me to let you take my lost child's place at my side. You will look back on your pitiful little crusade to save a city so beyond saving, so undeserving of the effort, and you will laugh. But for now, a lesson. You clearly do not appreciate the wondrous Gift I have bestowed upon you. You do not appreciate me for giving it to you. So I will show you how lucky you are. How much worse it could have been." He kissed Strix on the cheek. "See you next year, my child." One hand still strangled Strix, while the other grabbed the top of Strix's head. Johann's fingers punched holes through Strix's skull. He yanked, and tore Strix's head off. Strix caught a glimpse of his own headless corpse, the stump of a neck gushing black blood like a fountain, before he lost consciousness again. Later, Strix woke up in a sewer.

Mister Strix Strix thudded back against the floor, the impact disorienting him. His claws remained defiantly unsheathed, and he made fresh gouges in the stone around him as he staggered to his feet for a second time. "You're pathetic," he growled. "Forgetting for a moment that you're an abomination so disgusting that the entire world closes its eyes and pretends you don't exist because it can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you. What if this curse really was a gift? Then you've squandered it. Eternal life, power beyond imagining, and all you do with it is play these stupid games. You're not a god, Johann." He spit blood onto the ground at the mention of the name. "You're not even remotely interesting. You're just another rich parasite who couldn't think of anything better to do with his wealth than hoarding it and torturing the people he stole it from. Throw a stick at any country club and you'll hit three people just like you. My brother was worth a hundred of you. Raff didn't 'murder' your child. Raff exterminated him, because that's what you do to vermin. That's what I'm going to do to the entire stinking litter you polluted the world with."