Amelia
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The trio returned to the church to find the unconscious thugs still draped over the pews like wet sheets on a backyard clothesline, though they'd been moved around in the intervening minutes. The man in white was still there too, standing with his back against a side wall. With him there, it still felt colder inside the church than it did out in the rainy night. There were a few new spots of blood here and there, and the thugs looked noticeably paler than when the trio had left for the diner, but there were no fresh wounds beyond the existing bruises from the earlier brawl. When they entered, he pointed at one of the two used garbage bags he'd scavenged and emptied from the back alley. "Money. Your friend the preacher can put it to better use than they would." Then he pointed to the other. "Weapons." His deep voice still echoed with an unnatural resonance from a fanged mouth still far too large for its face. "Destroyed beyond repair, but you should still find somewhere else to throw them away. If someone found them in the preacher's trash, he might face questions he doesn't have answers for." His black eyes turned to stare straight at the girl. "They," he pointed at the sleeping gangsters, "were hired to kill you, and your little brother, to keep you quiet. They were going to burn down your entire apartment building, just to cover it up. They got the job from their Hardwick Park drug dealer, but he's just a middle-man. They were supposed to meet up at a warehouse near the Rook Island Terminal after, to get paid. But they don't know who they're really working for. They don't care. They just want their next fix." I can relate. "But you already knew all that." He turned to the others. "Did she fill in the gaps?"
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Both of your absurdly high Will saves beat the DC18 to see through Mister Strix's concealment power. Mister Strix gets a decent but inadequate Notice with 20. He is completely oblivious to the presence of all other PCs at this scene. I'll forgo a Stealth check for Mister Strix so that this doesn't turn into a parody. Arrowhawk and Tattered Man both see Mister Strix, but they don't notice each other. Both of you can post IC now.
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Mister Strix inspected the stationary vehicle as closely as he could without touching anything. The black discs at the center of each of his eyes expanded slightly when the sweet smell of blood filled his nostrils. As he almost always did while prowling the nighttime streets of Bedlam City, he broadcast a psychic command forcing anyone around him to ignore his presence. It wasn't as powerful as the complete control he could seize of a victim's mind by looking directly into their eyes, but it was usually effective. Usually, but not always. Both Arrowhawk and The Tattered Man felt a gentle nudge when they observed the scene, as though whenever they looked in a certain spot, an invisible hand grasped the backs of their heads and pushed it an inch or two to the left or right. They pushed back against that force, and started to hear a whisper. Do not see me. At first, they couldn't make out the words, but as they continued to resist the invisible hand, it grew louder. Do not see me. Still, they looked in those places It didn't want them to look, and the deep voice took on an echo. They both started to feel a headache. Do not see me. Finally, a vague, spectral suggestion of a face, with furious black eyes appeared in the air in front of each of their faces. DO NOT SEE ME. But still they defied It's command. With those final words, the face vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Their headaches disappeared with it. Now they could both see a man in white they somehow hadn't noticed a few seconds ago, creeping around the parked Camaro.
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IC is here: https://www.freedomplaybypost.com/topic/10841-to-serve-and-protect-ic/ Please do not post in the IC thread until I give the go-ahead. In the meantime, both of you please make a Notice check and a Will save before you make your first IC post. If you intend to be sneaky with your approach, please also make a Stealth check.
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GM John Smith's most recent job had run well past sundown, and the closest bus had still dropped him ten blocks away from his shabby Downtown motel. Five blocks into his hike, he spotted a yellow Chevy Camaro 5G with its driver-side door hanging open. It was parked on the right side of the street, facing him head-on, a couple blocks away. The passenger door was adjacent to the sidewalk, but closed. He thought he could see someone in the passenger seat, but the driver seat was empty. There was some kind of dark lump sitting on the street behind the open driver door. Twenty stories above Smith, Arrowhawk perched atop the crumbling faux-Gothic stone facade of a half-empty tower. Even with half the lights burned out on this street, her eagle-eyes could read the license plate, confirming that the Camaro belonged to Mike Donaghy, the Scarpia family associate she'd been stalking for the last few weeks. He extorted protection money from several lower-tier businesses in the worse parts of Downtown, and she'd planned to intercept him along his usual pick-up route. One of those businesses was a convenience store a few blocks away. She'd doubled back on the most likely route when he didn't show. From above, she had a much more clear view of the situation. It was obvious to her that the lump in the street behind the car door was a person, halfway into the fetal position but unmoving.
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recruitment HG's Shameless Plug for a Calvacade of Camaraderie
Amelia replied to Brown Dynamite's topic in Archives
???? out of ????? -
recruitment HG's Shameless Plug for a Calvacade of Camaraderie
Amelia replied to Brown Dynamite's topic in Archives
Your werewolf + my vampire = ? -
Heh. Nevermind. I came up with something to post after all. Using Extra Effort to power-stunt Super-Strength 9 as a temporary alternate power on the main array. (Str +8) + (Super-Str 1) + (Stunted Super-Str 9) = 18 Steel is Toughness 10. 18 is "5 or more" than 10, so he's temporarily got what he needs to destroy beyond repair every weapon he can find on the gang.
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The conversation in the diner across the street gave Mister Strix ample time to do his work. As he took a drink from each of the gangsters, he also rifled through their pockets. He threw any weapons he found into a pile with the ones he'd already collected from outside. If he found any money, he threw that in a second pile. Finally, if he found any identification, then he made sure to match it to the person whose blood he was consuming. I have you. I have your name. Your scent. Your taste. When you do this again, I'll know you. I'll remember. Once each thug had been thoroughly searched and his belly was full, Mister Strix closed his eyes and clenched every muscle in his body. With a moment of concentration, he literally burned off excess blood, feeling a slight warmth inside his dead organs as it evaporated into steam and then quickly dissipated. His muscles bulged slightly, imbued for a few minutes with the strength of The Devil himself. Then he turned to the pile of weapons and used his newfound strength to methodically destroy them. He emptied clips from guns and thumbed individual rounds free from clips. He twisted and crushed every gun. He pinched every lead slug and its casing into flat discs between his fingers. He bent and blunted every blade, even if it was merely a foldable pocketknife. These things will never be used again. They won't be sold, or traded, or "lost." They won't hurt anyone anymore. You're the last people who will bleed for them.
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I think the three of you can go ahead and keep talking amongst yourselves. I kinda doubled-up on posts last "round" as it was, and I think I'm outta stuff to talk about until you get back. So don't wait on me, just keep posting!
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The man in white didn't need to breathe, but he forced several deep breaths in and out of what was left of his shriveled lungs, a ritual effort to calm himself down. Then he poked his own tongue with one of his fangs, lifted the gang leader's neck to his mouth, and transferred the blood with a quick lick to the puncture marks he'd left in the man's neck. His blood sealed them shut, removing any traces of his feeding. Mister Strix wasn't about to follow Judex or Thorne or anyone else into a diner. Even if his costume wouldn't attract too much attention from the other diners, his presence would probably terrify the girl, and no one would appreciate watching their food turn into mold on their plate. They'll need a few minutes to help her catch her breath before she sees me again. But she will see me again. She needs to answer some questions. While awaiting the return of the girl and the other paranormals, Mister Strix drifted between the other gangsters in the main room, biting necks and wrists to take brief gulps of their blood. Spread it out. The more of them I drink from, the less I need to drink from any one of them...the less chance I'll get carried away and wake up with a dead body in my arms...again.
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Once Judex and Thorne had ushered the girl out the office, the man in white crept inside, with the gang leader hanging limply his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He dropped the thug onto the ground with less regard than he would have given to an actual sack of potatoes. The couple of drops he'd licked up in the main room had inflamed his thirst. He lifted the thug up into the air, turned him to face away, then pulled him close, one hand clasped over his mouth in case he woke up, the other wrapped around his torso, pressing their bodies together. He sunk his eager fangs into the man's neck, and started sucking the blood out. He did not breathe, but he sighed. He growled. His whole body quivered. The first bite of a perfectly cooked steak after a whole day without food. The first sip of water after running a marathon. A hot shower after hiking through the snow. As the blood hit his tongue, he closed his eyes and let the psychic resonance bound up in the blood wash over his mind. He felt his own mind sink into the thug's, like a body sinking beneath the surface of a lake. He saw the yearbook pictures of the girl and her brother. He heard the name of the drug dealing middle-man who hired the junkie gangsters to murder children. He smelled the gasoline they would use to burn their corpses, their home, their neighbors... Drink more. A child-murderer. Evil. There's so much more. An aspiring child-murderer. Evil and pathetic. Drink it all. No one would miss him. More blood more blood MORE BLO- He jerked the thug's neck away from his face, dropped the man back onto the ground, and roared up at the sky. Then he smashed his fist through the nearest piece of furniture.
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7) What's the significance of the warehouse near the Rook Island Terminal?
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6) Why do you smell gasoline when you think about the boy?
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5) Where is the boy?
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4) Who is the boy in the yearbook picture?
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3) Where can I find "Frankie?"
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2) Who sent you after her?
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1) Who is the girl you were chasing?
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Here's some rolls to save time. You can always toss 'em out if the next couple of IC posts invalidate them somehow. He'll be using his blood-based Super-Senses (Postcognition) and Mind Reading powers. Notes on Postcog from UP: You can make Notice and Search checks to pick up on past information in an area or from a subject. The Gamemaster sets the DC for these checks based on how obscure and distant in the past the information is, from DC 15 (for a vague vision that may or may not be accurate) to DC 30 (for near complete knowledge of a particular past event as if you were actually present). If required: Notice check: 16 Search check: 10 Mister Strix's Mind Reading effect has -Requires Grapple, but his target is unconscious, so he automatically wins that check. Here's the Mind Reading check: 16. If I'm allowed to coup-de-grace (the Mind Reading effect isn't Perception-range, it's Touch-range, it requires an attack roll, so a case could be made), then it's an automatic critical for 21. Regardless, the gang leader opposes that check result with his steadily-increasing Will save. He's doing a mind probe. If I won the opposed check, then I get the answer to one question I ask the GM. Since the Mind Reading effect has a duration of Instant (Lasting), the victim gets a new save every round to kick me out, with a cumulative +1 bonus per round. Each round he doesn't kick me out, I get another question.
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GM (6) To Serve and Protect (6) Mister Strix (15) Golgotha Tenement Blues (11) To Serve and Protect (4)
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I'm basically waiting for the others to clear the bystander out of the office so I can get a snack and start reading the gang leader's mind through his blood.
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"Sorcery. Witchcraft. Abomination. I'm all that and more. And you two are quicker to trust than you should be." "Not all owls are scavengers. Some of us hunt live prey." The man in white dropped a plastic trash bag onto the pew next to him, triggering a series of loud clanking and thumping. "Guns. From the four in back. You should secure the rest if you haven't already. If you can't destroy them, let me know and I'll take care of it. Anything else, and they'll just wind up back on the street." Then he walked over to the gang leader, heaved him up over his shoulder, and started back toward the central room. "I'll find out what he knows. He'll be alright. But you don't want to watch."
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The man in white held his unblinking gaze on Judex and Thorne. When he spoke, his voice had a slight echo to it, but not one created by the acoustics of the church. "The girl needs help. If she's still here, then we need to find out why she came here. If she ran off, then we need to track her down. You'll have better luck with that than I will." He pointed at the unconscious thugs draped over the pews. "We also need to make them talk. I'll have better luck with that than you will. Just point out the one who was doing the talking outside, and give me a few minutes." His shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground for a few moments. "We need to find the priest, too. Whatever cash the goons have on them will hopefully cover the cost of repairs. And when you find him...tell him I apologize for desecrating this place with my presence."
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Wow, Tiff. No foreplay or nuffin'. Jeez, buy a guy dinner first! ?