Geez3r

Sweeping his hat off his head to reveal the shockingly bright blue hair underneath, Jester walked into the room and shook Gossamer's hand. "'Have-a-Land' was it? I would inquire as to the size of the tracts, but it seems the D was an appropriate measure." Resuming his investigation, and getting out of smacking range, Jester answered Gossamer's question "I am Sir Pip de Mongro Poppergotten, but you may call me Raymond Luxury Yatch if you so please. Now so that our investigation isn't reduced to utter lunacy, why don't you bring me up to speed on what your investigation has uncovered?"

Atlas returned to human form after the congratulations were delivered. He takes a mock bow. Atlas is left dumbfounded at the next test. He looks down at the bike, then back at Grim, then back to the bike and then back to Grim. He then fixes Grim with a steely glare with a single cocked eye and slowly brings his face closer to hers. It takes Grim a moment to notice the fact that Altas is making one of his eyes progressively larger as it takes up more and more of his face, resulting in a face that could only in cartoons. "I'm gonna say no."

"An inquisitive mind, that's quite a start. Says a voice from around the corner of the cell. Stepping into the light is a very strange sight. There appears to be a clown dressed like Sherlock Holmes, pipe and all. "But tell me, my dear, how do you intend to solve this mystery without the slightest spot of Earl Grey? It's simply barbaric." Stepping into the room, the clown blows some bubbles from his pipe and withdraws a stupidly oversized magnifying glass from his coat pocket (which was coincidentally too small to hold it).

Oh you silly people, thinking you can only mentally scar someone while naked; you have much to learn. :twisted:

When the group comes to, they are greeted by a sight that will haunt their nightmares for the rest of their days: Jester is wearing an old Victorian style dress and seems to be in the midst of doing a can-can routine. He continues for a moment before he notices that he people on either side of him aren't moving. He drops the dance routine, and places the back of his hand on his forehead as if to swoon. "Oh dear me. What foul machinations have been wrought against me so that I- uh... I... LINE!" shouts Jester to no one in particular. When no one answers, he pulls out a thick stack of papers labeled "Script" and hurriedly thumbs through it, muttering the occasional passage to himself. "This scene isn't in here!" shouts Jester angrily, smacking the papers in front of him. "Is the director drunk!? What the hell?" He tears off the can-can dress (thankfully) and chucks them heedlessly away, now wearing something a bit more presentable, for him anyways. But then the scream catches his attention. "Gasp!" says Jester as he cups his hand around his ear towards the source of the scream. Point high up in the sky he shouts "This looks like a job for: Barely-Guided-Rocket-Propulsion Man!" now suddenly sporting a giant red ACME rocket on his back and a full Evil Knievel getup. He lights the fuse and sets himself, but then the fuse goes out due to all the rain. "Awww." Jester hangs his head before shrugging his shoulders and sprinting down the alleyway with his arms spread wide, supplying his own "Woosh" sound effects.

Burn Toughness save, DC 32 (1d20+10=22) First attack, staggered and Stunned Concentration checks to maintain powers: Flight, Force Field, Energy Aura (1d20+10=30, 1d20+10=18, 1d20+10=25) All powers except Force Field remain active. Burn Toughness save vs MA "pounding" DC 32 (1d20+0=19) Toughness save of various walls due to Knockback, DC 32 -1 for every wall passed through due to slowing momentum (1d20+8=23, 1d20+8=25, 1d20+8=15, 1d20+8=11, 1d20+8=25, 1d20+8=16, 1d20+8=12, 1d20+8=15, 1d20+8=13, 1d20+8=10) Burn Toughness save vs Wall Impact DC 23 (1d20+0=19) Net effect: Burn is planted on top of the warehouse roof, very narrowly punched right through it. He was probably already out when he smack against the rooftop. 40 - Dash - Unharmed 24 - Jester - Unharmed, HP x4 20 - Breakdown - Bruise x3, HP x4 17 - Strong Man - Staggered, Unconscious 16 - Mongrel Angel - Unharmed, HP x3 15 - Jack of all Blades - Unharmed, HP x0 12 - Burn - Bruised x3, Injured x1, Unconscious 6 - Thad Minker - Unharmed, HP x4 2 - Force - Unconscious

"Actually, I may be able to help vith ze repairs." said Atlas as he stepped up behind Ace and Archeville. Atlas produced a small (to him) business card for Builder's League United. "I had to find a new day job vhen my powers decided zat zey vould like to remain in ze on position." explained Atlas. Flipping the card over, Atlas showed the pair the number for the regional director and other higher level management officials.

Although he was too slow to stop the initial attack on Phantom, he was able to put himself in harm's way for when the pack leader attacked Phantom. The shadow hound's magically enhanced teeth only drew a superficial amount of blood from the wound on Atlas's arm. Before he could take a more proactive approach however, the shadows around him began to encircle his body. They were trying to hold his body back, but he figured out their plan of attack quick enough that they weren't able to get a solid hold on him. "Ve got company!" shouted Atlas, not sure if the three of his teammates were in any condition to register the attack as he himself began to struggle against the shadows binding him.

Atlas will indeed interpose as he has no idea how this will affect the ritual deal Phantom is performing but figures being attacked in the middle of the thing is a bad idea. Interpose Toughness save DC 28 (1d20+16=33) Passed. Reflex save vs Snare DC 25 (1d20+5=24) Awww, so close. And judging from the DC that's a rank 15 Snare, so it's got a +15 toughness too tough to break normally. So he'll use the full round application of Super-Strength to damage the snare on his next turn. This will destroy the bonds utterly, as the Snare rolls a 20 (5 + 15 Toughness save) vs the DC 42 Save (15 base, 16 strength, 11 SS). And because I'm on fire right now, I'll roll initiative while I'm at it. Initiative (1d20+0=18) yeah. Definitely on fire.

Ok. Think I got everything ready, just double checking interest before we set off.

"Imagine how it vas on my end." replied Atlas as he shook her hand. "Actually hold on." Atlas screwed up his face for a moment. "Wonder if this worked. Yep. If I morph my vocal cords, I can kill my accent. I did it by accident before." Atlas knelt down by the block, examining it closely and he ran his hands over the surface of it. Standing back up, Atlas took a few steadying breaths and swung his arms like he was about to do a 5 mile swim. "Either way, this is gonna feel weird." Then as Grim watched, Samael became more and more of the brick house she knew him to be. Any round surface on his body became sharper and more definite until he looked like a collection of rectangles lumped into a humanoid form. Then his body began to twist and contort and fold in on itself, as if on hinges until it folded up into a cube shape. After a moment's rest the outer layer of Atlas's body took on the color and texture of the box Grim had made as well. "Well this is pretty cool. said the box, from god knows where, "But I think my head is literally in my ass right now."

Atlas had a plan for these sort of situations, perfected during those long and hard Russian winters. It was "stand back and shut up". It had worked pretty well so far and he didn't see reason to mess with that plan now. Especially when all this freaky stuff was going on. So he distanced himself from the group, nervously rubbing his hands back in forth, for one, feeling utterly helpless.

"I don't know." said Atlas truthfully. "but more than likely..." he left the sentence linger in the air. Atlas couldn't really comment on most of the techniques Grim was using (her hands on his face probably having something to do with it). After her last comment though, he playfully flicked her in the shoulder; showing her the full extent of his rage. "Ok, I zink I got somezing." said Atlas, he accent having now made a comeback, which was probably a good indicator he was in fact on the right track. "Zis is going to look very veird." he cautioned. Suddenly, a long cut appeared on his forearm, but lost no blood. Almost immediately after it happened it healed up and became a scar which slowly started to fade away. But before that was gone, Atlas started to sport a shiner on his right eye, which too began to heal. In short order, Atlas was suffering one phantom injury after another. Then all of a sudden, it looked like Atlas recieved dozens of bullet wounds to the chest, and his skin flared red for a moment before all the wounds vanished, and Grim was left standing in the presence of Samael Nitorvich. "It's good to be back."

Notice Check (1d20+9=18)

The fire is starting to get a bit smaller, but it's still quite big. And who knows what's being stored in those warehouses and how they react to elevated temperatures? :twisted:

I need to get Jester in more threads so I'll sign him up if that's alright with you.

Atlas drummed his fingers a few times on the table as he tried to figure out his next move. He had a straight, which was probably the best hand you could have in this situation. But something didn't sit right with him. If he was a little more sober he would have figured it out sooner, but he couldn't do it while skunked. "Let's keep for now. Zat just about ze biggest pot ve had all night."

Atlas blushed a little bit as he looked down at himself. "Actually, this is my mother." Atlas walked over to his dresser and took out a photo album, thumbing through it for a moment before he found a picture of his mother in the very dress he was in. "This was taken on my parent's honeymoon." Atlas spent a few moments wistfully looking over the photograph. With a small sigh, Atlas put the photo album away and stood in front of the mirror. "Okay first thing's first." Atlas's body sort of folded back in on itself, turning inside out reverting to a white-ish humanoid form devoid of most identifying features. This time he made a pair of ordinary blue jeans first. After a moment the color of his skin changed to a more human norm. "Well I'm a guy again, that's a good first step." He looked back at Grim, but his face turned beat red practically as soon as he made eye contact and he hurriedly averted his gaze with a small cough. After a few moments, he had most of his body back. It took him longer than normal just because he was used to having so much muscle on his frame, but the first couple of attempts just made him look utterly disproportional. There was also quite a plethora of very odd facial expressions as he tried to get his face back to normal. After a few moments, Atlas turned to Grim "Don't think it's quite right yet. Any insight?"

This happened to me the last time we played poker legit too.

"Just doing my part." said Atlas with a slight inclination of his head to Grim's thanks as he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He stood up and surveyed the rather impressive amount of damage done to the area. He still didn't know much about the way things were constructed and all the math and engineering that went into it, but he did understand the cost part of it pretty well. That little stunt was gonna run up a big bill. "Ve are all here for you." said Atlas to Taylor and Jack, echoing the other heroes. "Vhatever, vhenever."

So unless I'm mistaken.... On the Table Nine of Diamonds Jack of Clubs 10 of Diamonds 6 of Clubs King of Spades In front of Atlas: Queen of Hearts 8 of Hearts In front of Colt Ace of Clubs Queen of Spades So I've got: King, Queen, Jack, 10, 9, 8 Colt has: Ace, King, Queen, Jack, 10 So uh... who wins?

"I'd guess you'd be the judge of that wouldn't you? Then again if we got Colt in here..." teased Atlas with an impish grin. It felt like cotton in really did. But it was at least 8 or 9 kinds of weird to have the cotton feel back. "I guess. Still not entirely sure how I did it though. And I'm not gonna lie, being naked and clothed at the same time, not to mention the whole being in another person's body thing is definitely a sensation I will not get used to." said Atlas as he looked himself (technically) over in the mirror. It was a rather funny scene for Grim as Atlas still moved as if he was the 10ft wall of muscle, even though he was in the 5'3" Jersey girl body. He may have looked and sounded a lot like Grim, but a few moments of interaction would give him away to anyone who knew the real Grim. "Wes...? Wesley Knight?" asked Atlas turning around "Isn't he the one with the uhhh..." The look on Grim's face just caused Atlas to snort, but he thankfully let the issue drop. When Grim looked over at Atlas, he was a writhing ball of flesh in a vaguely humanoid form. He had his hands over his eyes as he responded "This is a lot harder when I don't have something to go off of." in a rather gravely voice. "I think I almost got it." After a few more moments of concentration, his shape started to solidify and he didn't look half bad. "OK. Now this is weird."

Alright. Here's your first Approval.

Or we can just say you delayed until this point in the round.

"I have no idea. Archeville is still trying to figure it out. But each time I see him, my DNA is different. Still going zrough changes. Obviously." said Atlas as he gestures at his mini body. "Ah you're going to reget zat." says Atlas as he plops down on the floor as Grim takes her new form, it wasn't a threat, just a statement. After a moment, Atlas's flesh started bubbling and writhing until it solidified into its new form. This time it looked like an exact copy of Grim... almost. He hadn't made clothes. "Great, I'm a chick again. And I'm nekkids." his voice sounding exactly like Grim's now too. Atlas however was still a gentlemen however (no, not like that) and kept his eyes locked on Grim's own eyes rather than let them wander to take in the ...*ahem*...scenery. "So what are we going to do no-AAAhhh." Atlas suddenly lurched forward and seemingly out of his spine, a duplicate set of clothes envelopes his body. "Well what do ya know?" Only now does Atlas look down to examine the new form, holding out the bottom of the shirt so he can read it. "Weird... I can feel the shirt. Like, the shirt's part of me... That's either really good or really bad."