Dr Archeville

Note: Occurs in late October 2010 Atlas had been in Russia for the better part of three weeks when he ran across a rather weird site, or rather, one ran into him and then would not leave him alone. Dynamo had been out for an early morning jog, when he heard through the grape vine that there had been a wildfire out in the Russian “frontier”. Ordinarily he didn’t go that far north due to the blinding cold, but when duty calls, you go and freeze your little diodes off for the greater good. Atlas too was on the scene. The rest of the Vulcans were off in another part of Russia tending to a sudden outbreak in mutations, believed to be caused by toxic waste. Atlas was left to hold the fort. When the wildfire broke out, he of course went to go lend a hand. Between Dynamo’s Speed and Atlas’ strength, the wildfire was reduced to nothing more than a few glowing embers within the hour. “So ‘Lassie (Jack said to call you ‘Lassie) I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced. Name’s Dynamo, Fastest Man Alive; though not fastest person (damn you Z!) I’m with the Interceptors. So what’d you doin all the way out here?” “You’re talking very fast.” Observed Atlas. “Got to, freezing my tookus off here. The fire was keeping me warm up until now. And don’t change the subject. I ain’t seen you around Freedom recently. What gives?” asked Dynamo while furiously rubbing his hands together, trying to keep his hands warm. “I needed some time away. Kind of like I do right now. Thanks for the help, but I’ve got to get going.” Cuts off Atlas before he leaps back to the HQ. About a minute later, Atlas lands with a thud on the helipad back at Vulcan HQ. He gets no more than a few steps before he feels someone standing behind him. Standing there is Dynamo in a full length wool coat and a thermos full of hot cocoa judging from the smell. “Didn’t think I’d make it that easy for you did you snaggle puss?” “You do realize this is a restricted military base right?” Asked Atlas slowly, not believing he was still looking at this guy. “uh huh.” Replied Dynamo innocently as he took a sip of the cocoa, and offering Atlas some. “That it’s illegal to trespass on.” Continued Atlas, ignoring Dynamo’s antics as best he could. Dynamo nodded affirming “That it is.” While he still held out his hand out with the cocoa. “And the reason I shouldn’t just arrest you is…?” asked Atlas hoping he would finally get through to the speedster by being as blunt as possible. Dynamo just paused for a moment, and looked like he was contemplating for a moment before he held out the cocoa even more and gave it a little shake “I got you cocoa and you loves me?” he said with such sincerity it was quite sickening. Rather than fight a battle he could not win, Atlas let Dynamo inside. Dynamo took the time and really scoped the place out. There were super-hero bases and then there were super hero bases. Sure the Interceptors were great people, and they did have some pretty good funding, but they were sort of meant to blend in. They were almost as well known as the Freedom League, but the Freedom League was meant to be publically available to everyone and went out of their way to make themselves a symbol. Symbols cost money. Lots of money. In addition, the Vulcan Team had a really eclectic set of powers, the Interceptors were mostly comprised of people who were more defined by their skills rather than their powers. So the Vulcans had more weird crap just knocking about. Letting out a low whistle Dynamo commented “Noice set up you have here. Better than your set up with the Midnighers?” “We didn’t really have a set up. We all had some personal space issues.” Explained Atlas, wondering how Dynamo knew about the Midnigher’s and choosing not to reveal all that much as he knew Jack and Phantom had a new need for increased secrecy. “Is that why you left? They gave you a better set up here?” asked Dynamo, about as tactful as a parade. “Don’t even joke about that. The Midnighters were – are- some of my best friends. Nothing could pull me away from them.” Retorted Atlas, finally losing his patience with the speedster. “And yet here you are.” Pointed out Dynamo quite bluntly. “So why are you really here?” “You know damn well why I’m here!” roared Atlas. “No one wants me there anymore. I tried to kill them, and I brought an alien armada to Earth with the intent of killing everyone there. Who would want to see a monster like me after that?” “Oh don’t give me that line of bull!” retorted Dynamo harshly. “You were being manipulated by the Meta mind. You weren’t attacking us. Furthermore, when you regained a modicum on control, and realized that you would be a threat to Freedom, to the people you swore to protect and to your friends, you snapped your own neck! On national television. Without hesitation. And then when you saw that Freedom still needed someone of your strength, and I don’t mean muscles, you stood up again, broken neck and all. You’re a hero and you know damn well you are. And anyone with a brain in their skull knows that too.” “It’s not that simple.” Said Atlas wearily. He had had this argument with himself over and over again. “Something… happened to me that day. I didn’t feel like me anymore after that. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat. And I really thought I was dangerous to people. I needed some time to clear my head. I told you that already.” “Well that’s all fine and dandy, but to me it looks like you turned your back on your friends and family, who also happen to be some of the only people on the planet who have even a vague idea what it feels like to have your body taken away from you. We’re super heroes dude. Weird stuff happens. But no matter how many curve balls the universe throws at us, we help each other get through it. But no. you had to play the hero. You couldn’t show any weakness. You couldn’t let your friends inside and let them know that deep down, you’re just human. This doesn’t have to be your burden alone to carry. If you only let the you care about know what’s going on with you, they’d drop everything to help you.” “And what happens to everyone else they have to drop?” retorted Atlas. “The world depends on those guys being at full strength. They count on me being at full strength. I need to do this on my own. I know they’d all help me, but they’ve got enough on their plate as is. I want to show to myself that I’m strong enough to get through this. I want to show them why they should trust me. This is just something I’ve got to do.” “Yeah but you’re forgetting something. You’re a super hero. You don’t get to be proud. You’ve got a higher purpose. I’ll be back in Freedom waiting for you when you figure this out. See ya.” Called Dynamo before unceremoniously leaving. Atlas was just alone with his thoughts and some cocoa.

Time: After November 1st, 2010 "Okay, Dok, let's start at the top. Th' trapesiuz 'rises from..." "From the external occipital protuberance and the medial third of the superior nuchal line of the occipital bone, from the ligamentum nuchae, the spinous process of the seventh cervical, and the spinous processes of all the thoracic vertebrae, and from the corresponding portion of the supraspinal ligament." Dead Head read along on the laminated sheet Archeville had given him, and noted that the Doktor got it all right. He nodded, causing the exposed muscles to contract and expand as they slid over one another. Archeville had filed a request for a medical cadaver a few days ago, so he could practice some of his lesser-used medical skills and not let them get rusty. Dead Head got word of this from one of his contacts at the hospital morgues, and decided to volunteer, showing up at Archeville's doorstep in Hanover. (And if the good Doktor would pay him for his services, so much the better!) Archeville was skeptical at first, but decided to humor the man. He was surprised at how still he could lie while being worked on, no involuntary spasms or tremors, and if not for his incessant talking he would think the body on the operating table was a regular (if very badly bruised) corpse. But there was a complication, aside from the corpse's constant talking testing Archeville's powers of concentration as well as his medical skill: Dead Head's 'undying factor' repaired damage to him as soon as it was inflicted, making practicing most surgical techniques impossible. How could he practice a small bowel resectioning when the abdominal incision closed around him before he could even get his laproscope in? So instead they went with basic anatomical review, peeling back layers of Dead Head to expose and identify assorted structures. "Alright, next set," Dead Head said as he reached back and tore loose the clamps and forceps pinning back his skin. As soon as he did, the flaps closed and sealed shut, leaving him looking completely unharmed. He tossed the instruments, still holding tiny bits of his skin, into a bucket holding other used instruments, and resumed his face-down position on the massage-turned-operating table. "Latissimi dorsi, dextral and sinistral," he instructed. Archeville took up a scalpel and forceps and began cutting and pinning. "How is it you know so much about medical terminology? I mean, the stereotype is that you 'zombies' are, well-" "A bunch'a brainless boneheads?," he interrupted, and chuckled. "Most are, but I ain't 'xactly a run'a tha mill zombie. Had a Voudun loa in me fer 'bout a decade, animatin' me, but he left recently. Did somethin' ta me when he left," he shrugged, making some of the exposed muscles twitch, "but through it all I've kept ma mind. Which I am very grateful for! 'Fore all that, though, I was a college student, biology major. Wanted t'be a Neurologist, but didn't have th' grades." "Really?," Archeville replied, sounding quite surprised. "So your interest in brains existed long before your transmogrification?" "Heh, ya could say that, yeah, 'cept I ain't ever et a brain. Well, not since ma death an' rise. Friend'a mine back home, his granmaw had a hog farm, an' most ev'ry Sunday they'd have a big heap'a scrambled brains 'n' eggs fer breakfast." He grimaced, "never could stand 'em. Naw, my interest were from all the migraine headaches I'd get as a teen. I read up on th' causes, got hooked on the neuroanatomy'a it, tried pursuin' it as a career. Never had th' grades ta do so, though. An' in my current condition, it ain't easy ta continue mah education." "Oh, I am sure you could take distance education courses, many colleges offer several courses online, and-" Dead Head laughed, "that ain't it, Dok, not at all. I cain't go 'cuz I'm broke! I got nothin' but my shovel an' th' clothes on mah back!" "Oh, pshaw. I am sure there are numerous scholarships and grants you could apply for, and-" "Ain't got no permanent mailin' address. I mean, I could have 'em forward it care'a St. Stephen's Church on Lantern Hill, but... I don't wanna be a bother." "Dead Head, I would like to help. I am fairly wealthy, you know, and make numerous donations to-" "Nah, Dok," he said, shaking his head, "ain't no need fer that. I got so much t'do fer the Dead, I'd never have time t'study. I caon't get any'a my credits t'transfer, 'cuz I'm legally dead, they closed or erased all mah records. I'd have ta start over from scratch, an' I'd already been a full-time student fer four an' a half years. Now, quit yer jawin' an' answer me this: th' lateral margin'a the latissimus dorsi is separated below from th' obliquus externus abdominis by a small triangular interval, the..." "the lumbar triangle of Petit," Archeville rattled off, "the base of which is formed by the iliac crest, and its floor by the obliquus internus abdominis. And the latissimus dorsi can be remembered best for insertion as "The Lady Between Two Majors," as it inserts into the intertubercular groove of the humerus and is surrounded by two major muscles, the teres major on one side and the pectoralis major on the other." This went on for some time. Archeville was amazed at his recuperative powers, and mildly impressed by his anatomical knowledge; Dead Head was mildly amused at his fascination. As soon as he had seen the 'zombie,' Archeville had another idea for him, but it was not until halfway through the 'anatomical tour' that be broached the subject. "Dead Head, have you ever allowed your recuperative abilities to be tested?" "They're tested all the time, Dok," he replied while pinning back a section of skin on his left calf, "but, uh, naw, never had a scientific study done. Mostly 'cuz, well, I don't think science can 'splain it." "Oh, nonsense!," Archeville cheerfully retorted. "I am sure I can find out why and how this happened. And along the way, we can discover the extent of your abilities. Would that not be helpful to you? It certainly would to me and my research!" "Well, if it's fer Science, I s'pose I can help..." Soon Archeville had named all the muscles, bones, and organs in Dead Head's body, and he had exposed every inch of himself to the Doktor. Washing up, he lead Dead Head to the reinforced Hazard Hall below his laboratories, where realistic holograms covering overlapping polygonal force fields and tightly-focused pressor beams (as well as an assortment of robots) could create a variety of threats for superhero training... or superhuman power testing. "Alright, Dead Head, just stand right there, please, and I will go to the control room and set things in motion." "Yeah, but what about monitorin' me? Dontcha need, like, monitors attached to me?" "Indeed so!" A small section of the floor irised open, and a slim pedestal rose up, atop which was something looking like a watch. "Her, put this biomonitor on, it will link to the dozens of sensors in in the walls, ceiling and floor to monitor you!" Archeville practically skipped to the control room, giddy to start cataloging another Metahuman's abilities. He set the Hazard Hall to its lowest level to start, all nonlethal attacks. For the most part, Dead Head simply stood there, unaffected by it all; at one point he looked up with his arms crossed over his chest and the most bored expression his dead face could muster. Archeville looked over the biomonitor readouts, which showed absolutely nothing. He stepped up the intensity of the attacks, and these attacks did break skin and fracture bone, but Dead Head bounced back in practically no time. Archeville set about removing the safeties from the Hazard Hall, which caused parts of the control room to unfold as new options were made available. He turned to one console, but did so just as another was descending, and suffered a nasty concussion. Archeville fell to a crumpled heap on the control room floor. A hand reached up to the main console from the floor. It was not human. "Herr Totenkopf... I mean, Mister Dead Head... are you ready for de next level of intensity?" "Sure thing, Dok! I'm startin' ta get bored ta death down here! An' I'm already dead! Yer borin' me back ta death!" "Oh, do not vorry about dat," he muttered, while black-scaled, taloned hands manipulated the controls. First came whirling blades and crushing hammers, but they could not kill the zombie. A shotgun blast to the back of the head healed over with annoying swiftness. "Yea! Now we're cookin', Doc!" "'How about a little feuer, scarecrow?'" It would take days to get the smell of burnt zombie out of the Hazard Hall, but only moments for Dead Head's charred body to regenerate. "This ain't mah first barbecue, y'know!" "Hold on a moment, you are still smoldering..." A saline solution was prayed onto the smoking zombie; the solution was filled with several million particularly nasty nanobots designed to rip and tear their way through skin, organ tissues, and blood vessels, causing massive internal hemorrhages and shock response in the victim. They barely managed to keep Dead Head at the same level of injury, and in time, unable to draw power from the zombie's non-existent bioelectrical field, their tiny batteries gave out and they fell inert. And he didn't even seem to notice. "What's next?" Unintelligible curses issued from Arch-Evil's fanged and spittle-flecked mouth, even as he programmed in a new attack. Behind Dead Head, a machine assembled itself from hard light holograms, but the unconventional undead was too busy focusing on the large hulking robot that was rising from the floor. It charged, swinging a massive hammer-fist at the hero; he simply smiled as he braced himself for impact. The blow connected, a mighty uppercut that sent Dead Head flying into the machine behind him. The western wall of the Hazard Hall became dark red. "Ha! Ein Zombie shambled bis zu hölzernen abklopfhammer und sagt "Ich vergaß, nicht in sie gedrückt zu werden, und jetzt ich bin laubedeckt." Ha! Es ist lustig, weil der Zombie mit laubedeckt erhält! Ahhh hah hah hah hah hah!" The remains stirred, wiggling and writhing back towards each other, slowly un-mulching themselves. Arch-Evil looked on, unbelieving. "Nein! Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein! Computer! Erstellen Sie eine Kopie von den letzten fünf Minuten dieses Lernabschnittes und außer zum Wraith-Antrieb," he commanded while adjusting the controls to the Hall and his Electromagnetic Screwdriver, "wenden Sie dann Filter 23-E an den letzten fünf Minuten der Primäraufnahmenan." Arch-Evil took a few deep breaths, then did what he hated doing: went back to a quiescent state. With the last microsecond of consciousness, he activated the Screwdriver, which set off a memory-altering pulse to cover his actions, making Archeville think they were his own; the doctored audio and video logs would show Archeville running the tests. The gadget reset itself to standby mode as it tumbled from his unconscious hands. Archeville stood, placing a hand over his throbbing head. "Dead Head? Still with us?" "Jes' fine, Dok, the regenerative -- and very naked -- revenant called from the empty Hall, "but... uh... I'm gonna need some new clothes!"

Correct! Though since almost everything on your sheet except the Cutting Torch is a 1p thing anyway, your total would be the same.

It's not just that he loses the +4 he got from Total Defense, he loses all his Dodge bonus to Defense. So if his Defense was 16 (6 base), his flat-footed defense is 13 (since half your base Defense is treated as being a Dodge bonus and is lost when you're flat-footed). And an additional -2 brings it down to 11. And if that is the case, Mutt hit, so their Combined Attack worked, so DH's damage goes up by +2, so he failed that first save by 6, and is bruised & stunned again. Also, when you do rolls, please be sure to fill in the Notes field with what you're rolling & why.

The cutting torch is not 1 EP. It's listed as 1 EP in the Core Book's sample Utility Belt, but that's because is is an Alternate Power for the "Utility Belt" Array. Core lists a Cutting Torch as "Blast 1, Drain Toughness 1," which would cost 3 EP. Though, really, it should be Corrosion, a 3p/rank power. Duct tape wouldn't be Snare 1, since it can't be used at range, and a Snare 1 snare would have the toughness of paper or soil. Best to list it at 0 EP, since any mechanical benefits would be rare.

Still need lists from Angel AvengerAssembled Burlap Faust Lone Star Moira OmegaPlatinum rpgronin

Trying to count posts for you people! Note on the Stunned Head Cultist: you need to make a Concentration check (DC 10 + his Force Field's rank) to see if he can keep the Force Field up. Also, Stunned Head Cultist loses Dodge bonus to Defense, which includes his +4 from Total Defense, and he suffers an additional -2 modifier to his Defense. In other words, his Stunned defense = his Flat-Footed Defense, -2. And since he's denied his Dodge bonus to Defense, Sneak Attack damage comes into effect. Dead Head Free Action: Call to Mutt to do a Combined Attack Mutt Standard Action: Combined Attack with Dead Head to attack the stunned Head Cultist Attack vs. Head Cultist; All-Out Attack (-2 Defense, +2 Attack) & Power Attack (-2 Attack, +2 Damage); no damage (combining with Dead Head) (1d20+6=11) hrrmmm... Is Stunned Head Cultist's Defense equal to or less than 11? If so, Mutt hits, and DH gets +2 damage! Dead Head Standard Action: Combined Attack with Mutt to attack the stunned Head Cultist Attack vs. Head Cultist; All-Out Attack (-2 Defense, +2 Attack) & Power Attack (-2 Attack, +2 Damage); +2 Damage from Sneak Attack; DC 27 Toughness if it hits, 29 if Mutt got his hit in (1d20+10=22) IF he's still up, DH will use Extra Effort to SURGE for another standard action. Standard Action: Attack some more! Attack vs. Head Cultist; All-Out Attack (-2 Defense, +2 Attack) & Power Attack (-2 Attack, +2 Damage); +2 Damage from Sneak Attack; DC 27 Toughness if it hits (1d20+10=16)

"Guys, he's 'bout ta summWHOA!" Dead Head tried calling out to his new allies, but Push's hammerstrike turned the warehouse floor into a roiling wave of wood and concrete. The zombie stumbled and lurched, and, amazingly, remained on his feet! Need ta thank Hellion for them surf lessons! "We gotta stop 'im now!" he yelled (partly in anger at the cultists, partly in anger at Push for wrecking so much destruction), "'fore he summons... whatever it is he's summonin'!" The Revenant swung at the lead cultist, but the minor unsteadiness he still dealt with from the hammerstrike thre him off just enough to miss. Mutt had slightly better luck, running across the air to bite at the Head Cultist. But the spirit-dog was also foiled, by the unholy power of the Head Cultist's force field!

FC:PbP is offering the community another "vignette" opportunity. If you'd like to read about our previous vignettes, check here. December is a hectic month for many. For students and teachers, it's the end of the Fall semester, so tests and projects are due. There's also the assorted holidays, and the rush of gift-buying and -making, decorating, baking, and spending time with friends & family. There offers lot of ideas for vignettes.... So this month, FC PbP is offering two choices! 1) A PSA (Public Service Announcement) done by your character. It could be a tv ad, a radio spot, a poster that gets plastered all over Freedom City, a magazine insert, etc. 2) Revisit old vignettes -- ones you may have already thought on, maybe even wrote an entry for, but did not submit in time. Who: Any player who is interested. What: 1) Write a one (1) page vignette detailing a PSA your character has done. It could be the tv or radio spot itself, or a behin-the-scenes look at hos it was made, or the photoshoot for the poster/magazine ad. Be creative! 2) see prior Vignette When: The deadline for submissions will be Friday, December 31st by 11:59 PM EST (GMT -5). The time the vignettes themselves take place is detailed in the individual vignette entries; the PSA vignette can be done any time you wish. Where: 1) Anywhere. 2) see prior Vignette. As always, when you submit your vignette, please make a note clearly indicating in which forum it should be posted, as well as when it would be happening. Why: To enhance our community, to flex your writing muscles, to think more deeply about (or put a new spin on) your characters, and to earn a bonus PP for your character for the month of December. How: Once your story is finished and proofed, PM it to one of the Refs (angrydurf, AvengerAssembled, Ecalsneerg, Geez3r, ShaenTheBrain, or myself). When all the stories are in, one of our staff members will post them to the appropriate forums (which is why we need you to be sure to tell us where it should go!), and provide links to them in this thread. DO NOT post them in a forum yourself, otherwise it will not be counted for this exercise. Additional Notes/Clarification: Vignettes do not count as posts. The "Should auld acquaintance be forgot" vignette may be for any New Year's Eve, not just the one for 2007. The "Musical episode" vignette may take place in June 2009 (the time of the original episode), or at a later time. If doing so during the original event, but your char was not in FC (or not an active superhero at the time), you can still do so; the magic reaches out to those destined for greatness. If at a later time, please include something about your character finding an odd crystal or something which had captured some of the magic, and releases it when your char touches it. Post here with questions.

We ban Regen from Unconscious because even 1 rank makes it near-impossible to put anyone down. Per our "like the DCAU, but slightly more mature and thought-out, and on the whole non-lethal" guidelines, all damage done is, unless explicitly stated otherwise, non-lethal, which mean KOing someone is by far the most common way of taking someone out. When you're reduced to unconscious, you must normally wait one minute (10 rounds) before you get a chance to make a Constitution check to wake up; 1 rank of Regen for Unconscious reduces that to 1 round. And since most people with Regen are also going to have a high enough Constitution.Recovery bonus to reliably make that check, that means they'll pop right back up, which'd make combats last forever. Looking much better, though please do list his total Defense, Toughness, and attack bonuses in the relevant lines. I.e., Attack: +4 ranged, +12 melee Defense: +10 (+10 Base), +5 Flat-Footed Toughness: +10 (+2 Con, +8 Defensive Roll); +2 Flat-Footed Equipment 6 will give you 30 points worth of Equipment. You can definitely build a solid Utility Belt/Vest with that.

I have trouble seeing a heroic char in this setting seriously using the name "Mister Perfect."

I want to take this course.

Doktor Archeville Bats of Unusual Size? I Don't Think They Exist (2) Champagne Shenanigans (4) Die Me, Dichotomy (14) Fractures (8) How Do I Mold Life? (3) It's Not Lupus (9) Medical Matters (10) Stopping By For A Nice Little Chat (6) Welcome to The Interceptors, Jill O'Cure (1) Welcome to The Lab! (2) 2+4+14+8+3+9+10+6+1+2 = 59 posts = 4pp + Vignette = 5pp (but he's Maxed Out) add posts to Dead Head's totals Also, 1 Vignette for Dok; pp to Dead Head. Dead Head Carson Finbar and the Deathly Fellow (6) DOA? A-Okay! (4) Too Many Questions, Too Few Answers (4) 6+4+4 = 14 posts 14 posts + 59 from Dok + 13 GM/NPC work = 86 posts = 4pp + 1pp from Dok's Vignette = 5pp GM and NPC At the Opera Tonight (5) Die Me, Dichotomy (3) Too Many Questions, Too Few Answers (4) Who You Gonna Call? (13) Zombie Powder is a Helluva Drug (2) 5+3+4+13+2 = 27/2 = 13 posts, added to Dead Head

In order to make sure the Refs accurately count all your IC posts and award you the due amount of power points, please post with a list of all the threads in which your character posted IC this month (including the News forum). Please also mark things from the Non-Canonical forum as being non-canonical, as those count 1/2 (2 posts made for your char in a non-canon thread count as 1 post for the char). And if you are GMing something, list those threads, too. GM-only posts -- as well as NPC Villain posts -- also count 1/2, and can be assigned to whichever of your characters needs a 'push' to get up in post numbers. When you make your list, please post a link to the IC threads -- preferably to the top of the page where your first post for that month appears -- so we (and the auto-count program) can jump right to it. Speaking of the AutoCounter: when you start a thread, make sure [iC] is in the title/subject line of the IC thread, and [OOC] is in the title of the OOC thread. If you make a post in an IC thread as a GM or an NPC, add [GM] in the subject line of the thread. If you make a post and [iC] is not in the subject line, the AutoCounter will not count it! And if you do not put [GM] in the places you post as an NPC or Ref, it won't count those properly! Also, when you start a new thread, please mark it on the Timeline (if you have a handle here, you have an account for the Wiki, and anyone with an account can edit it). You do not have to be specific on the date, but I would like to keep track of when things are happening relative to each other. The Timeline also serves as an index for everything we've done in the nearly three years this site's been active, and it's useful to know if X happens before or after Y. If you've done any extracurriculars -- artwork, HellQ, 20 Questions, NPC, Vignette, Wiki work, etc. -- please be sure to list them along with your active threads. Help us help you (and help us keep some measure of temporal continuity ) :mrgreen:

Mutt's in the area, too, but since he's flying he's not a target. Reflex save, DC 20 (1d20+6=16) Zombies are not nimble. Toughness save, DC 25 (1d20+15=29) passes! Dex/Acrobatics check, DC 20 (1d20+2=21) :shock: passes! Dead Heads wobble, they don't fall down! Dead Head Free Action: Call out warning to allies Standard Action: Attack Head Cultist (and probably get intercepted by Golem) Attack vs. Head Cultist; All-Out Attack (-2 Defense, +2 Attack) & Power Attack (-2 Attack, +2 Damage); DC 25 Toughness if it hits (1d20+10=14) Mutt Standard Action: Attack Head Cultist (and probably get intercepted by Golem) Attack vs. Head Cultist; All-Out Attack (-2 Defense, +2 Attack) & Power Attack (-2 Attack, +2 Damage); DC 21 Toughness if it hits (1d20+6=17)

"I like to think I have picked up on a few things that you like, liebchen," he said, voice full of promises. He had shared much with her, more than any other woman -- well, girls, really -- he had been with. Largely because he had never been with any of them for more than two weeks; his relationship with Mona had already lasted twice as long as that, and they hadn't even had sex yet! (Well, not all the way, and certainly not for lack of trying; her Terminus-infused physiology proved certain challenges, which made him all the more determined/frustrated.) The tales of his own heroic exploits were easy enough to regale her with, and he was equally enraptured by her tellings of her own exploits. Stories of his grandfather, the Nazi super-scientist, came later, a dark spot in his past that we strove to mitigate, to prove he was not his grandfather's grandson. He even spoke more of his extended family line, stretching back nearly a dozen generations, of their contributions and the weight he felt from that. His closest living relative, though, he had not spoken of until more recently, and when he at last did, she realized why: his father's actions, and his own brand of madness, made him in some ways an even darker spot in Viktor's history than even his grandfather. (He did spare her the specific details of his self-mutilations, though, but if she still insisted on seeing him, he would tell her well before they reached him.) But there was one thing he had yet to tell her, in part because he was not sure how to tell her. A secret that only one other soul in Freedom City knew, and that due to her ability to delve into his mind. He had slipped a few times, of course, let his Other Side 'peek out' from time to time (or lost control and was unable to rein it in before it said or did something regrettable), but he dismissed those outbursts as either jokes, or an unfortunate lapse from overwork or lack of sleep. He would tell her, he knew that -- she deserved to know the full truth of him, for her sake and his own -- but even he was stymied as to how to tell her. But that could wait for another night. Tonight, he had plans, and needed all of himself on board for it. "But as fine as all this is," he placed his hands top her, ran them slowly up her arms, across her shoulders, and up her neck to stroke her cheeks, "I can think of something far more pleasing that I think we should share." He slid his hands around to the back of her head and pulled himself towards her for a deep, passionate kiss. Moments later, they had gone up the hall from his private dining room, past the private kitchen and small study to his private chambers at the northernmost tip of the space station. Their clothes littered the floor, and they rolled about on the special reinforced bed Archeville himself had made for just this evening. He soon pulled himself away, though -- "stay there, stay there!" -- and his bare feet padded across the chamber to another floating box, similar to the one he'd presented to her earlier. "This," he panted, holding his arms wide to indicate the chamber, "and this," he lowered his arms and held the box in front of him, "is the second half of what I wanted to show you." He opened it, and pulled out a small gas mask, the kind that only covered the nose and mouth, of transparent plastic. The filters on the sides, which were usually round, were on this one diamond shaped, and blue. "Watch carefully, liebchen; I think you are going to love this!" He depressed the two buttons in the center of the blue diamonds, and the mask filled with a light purple gas, which he inhaled deeply. A moment later, his whole body begin to glow the same color, and he grew over two feet in height! He was now a few inches taller than Fulcrum! "Nanite suspension, co-developed by Doktor Atom, suffusing my cells with the same energy his grandson Maximus uses when he grows. Very safe, tests dozens of times over the past week; duration is approximately 235 minutes. Now then," he said, tossing aside the empty inhaler and crawling back into the bed with her, "I believe we were about to test just how much exertion your new power dampers can safely contain...." ArcehStern's internal sensors picked up several energy spikes from the north wing, and a few dimensional energy spikes, but nothing intense enough to be concerned about. A few of the staff monitoring the sensors glanced at each other, and nodded knowingly. ~fin~

A regular handgun?

Oh, and even if he is an NPC, you'll need to alter the formatting so it matches our standard.

You'll also be knocking of 7pp, if he's to be a second PL 10 char for you. Or do you mean to submit him as an NPC?

"Heh, I think tha main reason my body repairs itself as fast as it does is 'cuz I keep puttin' it inta horrible situations," he said, concentrating just enough to have the hand stand on two fingers and twirl around. Its sense of balance was as good as would be expected for a necrotic severed hand, and it was barley able to stand on its two fingers. "I mean, startin' off, I could patch up pretty quick. Sometimes needed an extra source'a material ta work with -- meat, that is. Never human!" he quickly added, "jes' hamburgers an' sausage fer me! But now, I don't even need that ta boost my patchin' up." He looked around the room, then back to her, "I tried flyin' once. Lots'a undead in the stories can do it, I thought I might be able ta do so, too. It... kinda worked, but was real messy. And, uh, I think it kinda violated a few laws'a physics. I mean," he chuckled, "moreso'n my own simple existence implies. Ever hear of a penanggalan?" That word sounded really weird with his heavy Southern drawl.

It is. It really, really is. Welcome!

"Over a decade, believe it or not," he replied, concentrating just enough to make the disembodied hand walk in small circles. "I died New Year's Eve, 1999. Well, technically it was New Year's Day, 2000. 'Course, I didn't jump into the hero thing right 'way..." His mind's eye rolled back to his first few days, the horror and confusion of it all. He'd adapted fairly quickly to his situation, true, a feat he chalked up to his steady diet of horror and sci-fi movies. (And, he'd later realize, the loa in his head telling him subconsciously that it was all going to be okay.) "But I knew I couldn't go back to mah old life, to my family what already thought I was killed by the explosion, and with so many spirits pleadin' ta me -- one'a the few who could hear them -- fer help, well, I couldn't ignore 'em, so I started doin' what I could t'help." "So how long you been doin' this?," he asked. "When'd ya first learn ya could shoot lasers outta yer fingers? Or could fly?"

"That actually is what they did in tha movies!," he laughed, "'Course, they had a lot bigger budget, better effects, an' all that." At her request, the hand froze in place, like a spider waiting to pounce on its next meal. Her scanner detected nothing (except the presence of necrotic flesh), but she had a lot of sensors still to use, and ideas for several she could whip up if needed. "First time? Hrm, lemme think..." He moved to scratch his chin in thought, then realized he was just rubbing the wrist-stump against it. "Ah, yeah -- was in a fight with some organleggers in the truck they'd stolen, they knocked me off-balance an' hacked off the hand I was using ta hold on. I tracked 'em down, found 'em an' my hand, an' for a moment wondered how I was gonna get the door open without bustin' it in an' alertin' 'em. Next thing I know, my had hops up an' scuttles over to the window I'm at! I realize what's goin' on, direct it t'unlatch tha window, and I went in an' did my thing."

"How 'bout we start with the trick I jes' did, then?," he said as he hopped up off the table. "Always has been one'a my favorites. Y'ever watch much Addams Family?" The (still naked) zombie stepped into the proscribed circle and removed his hand again, letting it scurry up and down him and around in the circle. Mutt again barked, but a look from Dead Head kept him outside the circle. "Didja know Thing was played by the same fella what was the butler, Lurch? 'S'true!?"