Geez3r

If it worked once, then it could work again. Atlas charged another group of demons and clapped his hands together again, creating another roar of thunder, if possible, louder than the last. "Run you tiny, itsy, bitsy demons! You vill all die before ze Atlas!" It was amazing really, that even in this sea of Red how easily Atlas stood out from them.

"Atlas." said the big Russian guy between mouthfuls of a Phillie Cheese steak. After brushing a few crumbs off his hands (not onto the table) he digs into his bag and pulls out his money-clip. You could tell that the money had changed hands a few times. These weren't bills taken from a bank, they were likely taken from a cash register."Try to keep ze buy in low. Don't vant zis to be over too soon. Is friendly game da?"

"Beggan yer pardon there Dark Star, but doncha think yer o better use out der stoppin' some o them criminal fellers? I mean I appreciate what you're trying ter do here, but..." says Earl as Dark Star looks about. However, the other guys in the garage don't seem to match his calm demeanor. They always keep their eyes on DS, even a sideways glance. They keep a certain distance away from him, or always happen to need a part that's on the opposite of the garage of DS. Shady, but nothing illegal. That is until however, that DS notices that for all the parts they're putting in, he doesn't see one single receipt anywhere. Or any invoices. Or anyone scheduled to work tonight. Or nearly enough parts that have been replaced lying around. Something's definitely going on here. Better take a closer look at exactly what they're doing here.

Well, let's see if we can wrap this up some time in November shall we? Recover from Stun (1d20+12=19) Okay, ordinarily Boomer would totally pop one of his 5 HP at this point to join in the fight, but I'm lazy and I'll keep him out unless we need him. Goons, the stunned ones recover from being stunned, but are pretty much just going to play dead at this point. The one barricaded in the truck stays in the truck. .... Wait, hold the phone. Just realized I have no idea what you did with your turn. Can you spell it out for me?

"Vell now.... zat is interesting." Samael took a moment to ponder this new information. He wanted to get a handle on the situation. To make sense of his life if you would. "Vell, is it unusual for some of zat to be naturally occurring? After several years in ze Russian vinter breaking ze permafrost, I feel a little ill ven looking at pick axes. not ze best of times. Or are you zinking of something more complex?"

Assuming the demons are all medium sized, and standing shoulder to shoulder (ie: no gaps in the area) Atlas will be able to hit about 200-210 of them. This is of course ignoring the 3rd dimension, and any flying demons, as well as any that might go down from the demons being knocked back by this attack, aka the domino effect. And don't forget, they get a reflex save for half damage But in all seriousness, handwave as much of the above as you deem fit, you've got a full plate as it is.

Atlas was a different kind of combatant from the other Midknights. They tended to be precise, surgical, though still quite violent in their attacks. Each attack was a personal signature of brutality, an individualized work of destruction. Atlas on the other hand, hit things. Usually hard. His fighting style was a glorious lack of finesse. If you gave him a sword, he would wield it like a club. If you gave him an axe, he would wield it like a club. If you gave him a club, he would demand a bigger club. That sort of fighting style had no place in the modern world. Not when there were things to protect, save and undue violence was wrong. But - if your battle directions were "kill everything in that direction", suddenly that glorious lack of finesse became one heck of a strategy. Seeing Atlas leap through the air, close-lining flying demons as he went, only to crash back to the earth before slamming his hands together to create a massive shockwave that sent demons reeling was just a sight to behold.

Atlas will use his Leaping (Max distance ~260ft from a stand-still while only taking a move action) to position himself to use his Shockwave (100ft cone) on the maximum number of demons while simultaneously not hitting any civilians or allies.

It was like looking at an alien landscape to Samael. There were familiar themes and motifs to be sure, but everything was different than you would think it would be. In all honesty, Samael had never considered what he would need to become stronger and tougher. It was all just some abstract concept, but all the required stuff that went along with it was just flat out staggering. Samael spent most of Doc explanation doing one of three things. 1) Being too utterly confused to do anything else. 2) Wondering how exactly that chair worked and 3) How the heck Doc was able to process all of this information so quickly. The chair doing it was one thing, but Doc was keeping pace. It was quite impressive. "Vait." interrupted Samael. "Even my brain vas changed?"

Let 'er rip.

Samael went to stand next to Doctor Archeville for a moment, with his arms crossed. He stood in silence for a moment before turning to Doctor Archeville and solemnly asking "Put it to me straight Doctor. How long do I have?" After a light chuckle, he got a little more serious. "So vat are ve looking at here? Anyzing out of ze ordinary? I vould ask you how zis machine vorks, but I zink my brain vould leak onto ze floor." He added as an aside.

Nope, this is more or less one continuous combat. Unless I specifically say you're flat footed against an attack, you're not.

GM ONLY POST The choppers broke off from their attack formation to engage their targets. The one on the right veered off course to engage the flying demon. It performed a text book circle strafe maneuver as it unloaded with its Gatling gun. The other two choppers increased their speed to close the distance between them and the assailants on foot. Once they were within range, then let loose with their own Gatling guns, tearing up the ground around Knievel and Ronin.

I'm sorry everyone, I would have sworn it was Knievel's turn. I guess I had the initiative from the last battle still stuck in my head. Chopper Attack rolls vs Bel, CapK, Ronin (in that order); DC 25 toughness save - Autofire (1d20+10=18, 1d20+10=22, 1d20+10=24) It's Auto-fire 1, so +1 DC for every 2 it exceeds your Defense, maximum of +5. Ronin - Unharmed - VP x3 Helicopters (3) - Chopper 2 has -3 toughness penalty Belphegor - Unharmed - VP x3 Malice - Unharmed - VP x5 Captain Knievel - Unharmed - VP x5 Tanks (5) - 1 and 5 have -5 toughness penalty Battalions (2) - Both have -5 toughness penalty War Mechs (2) Bel, you're up as soon as I get IC up.

It appears Samael had completely forgotten about needed to create a benchmark. He lowers his head a little and rubs the back of his neck. "Oh.... vell zen... TO SCIENCE!" shouts Samael suddenly as he seizes his glass off the table, holds it aloft in the air and then promptly downs the contents. "OK. So now, I need moar sandvich - to keep ve strength up da?" asks Samael with a smile as he goes to town making himself a new sandwich.

Seems to be in order. Approved.

"OOoooooh. I'm ze big Russian guy? You Americans vith your stereotypes - all ze same. Big Russian guy with big guns, big punching and big vodka bottle." Samael shakes his head indignantly before reaching into his bag and withdrawing a rather large bottle of Russian vodka. "Okay. I am sucker for stereotype. Anyone else vant?" says Atlas with a shrug as he starts pouring out quite generous portions into 2 glasses (also procured from the bag). "Greetings." adds Atlas to Angel as she makes her appearance.

It was then that Tempest exhibited his most potent ability to date; he simply sat and listened. But there was something deeply powerful about that. He sat and observed. He was like a great oak tree. It had been there for decades, braved countless storms and towered over its peers, but it did it with a silent and powerful grace. He would simply wait off until the sides until he was needed. He felt dependable, reliable, and weirdest of all, it felt like he just might understand. If you met his eyes, you could feel as if he was asking you to come, sit, stay and talk. He didn't seek to judge, only to understand.

Samael looks a little put off when Doc starts prattiling off standard things. "I vas talking about ze limited time I can stay as Atlas. I vas zinking you vould be testing my strength and such, not doing zis standard stuff. Vat else do you have planned, beside ze samples?" Perhaps he could spur the Doctor into action with a well placed blow to his pride. "No offense Doctor, but I could get zat stuff done at any hospital. Vat do you offer zat is unique?"

"Do not worry comrade. Ve vill put end to 'zem'. Ve good at zat." Atlas stood up from the muck and brushed himself off slightly. "Do vatever. Ze more time ve spend talking, ze less time zat person has. Move!" Samael starts heading further down the tunnel. The speed at which he moves seems more to signify the need for the team to take immediate action, rather than him acting independent of their plans.

Questions exploded in Tempest's mind as the sky darkened so unnaturally. How did this occur? What did this mean? Was this the plot of a villain human? What was the point of this event occurring? But all of that stopped just as soon as it started. This was death. This was the end of life. Tempest knew this. He could feel it down in the deepest core of his being. And it scared him. He was wholly and truly terrified at what this day had brought. Life was fragile, but it could endure. But this... this was too much. It had to stopped. The humans must survive. They just had too... His senses reached out, and he felt a gathering of life in the distance, and death encroaching all around him. This is where he would make his stand, this is where he would have purpose. Tempest streaked across the sky to this bastion of life. He came to a halt hovering over the mass of people making their way to the building. Wreathed in elemental fury he declared "Humans! So long as I am here, no death-dealer shall touch you! This I swear upon the Creators!"

Initiative (1d20+0=5)

A deafening roar of thunder shook the ground as the face of a building violently exploded outward from the force of a tractor trailer being thrown through it, several demons scattered in the rubble. Atlas stood, framed in the wreckage of the building, visibly shaking with rage. He always took caution to hold himself back; to not become the monster people believed him to be. But this was the End of All Days. A monster was exactly what they needed. Atlas strode out from the building, bellowing his challenge, every syllable was a crescendo of violence. "Ask of me, and I shall give zee ze heazen for zine inheritance, and ze uttermost parts of the earth for zy possession. Zou shalt break zem with a rod of iron; zou shalt dash zem in pieces like a potter's vessel. Be wise now zerefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of ze earth. Serve ze LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss ze Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all zey zat put zeir trust in him. AMEN!" Atlas was prepared to lay down his life this day, but he would make them pay dearly.

Oh this is going to be fun. Initiative (1d20+0=1)

Mid Terms 2: The Revenge! Yeah, I've got 4 exams and 2 papers due in the next week, not including the mid-term today. So uh.... :flash: