Ecalsneerg

"Sure, why not?" said Geckoman, pulling some wipes from his utility belt to deal with the perspiration. A can of Axe swiftly followed. "Should warn you, though, people will warn you of my flying. I disagree, considering I'm reliably informed that I should be flying the Pitchoo like a helicopter, not a fighter jet. The fact noone has died is a miracle!"

Arrowhawk IN SPAAAAACE! (1) Monsters in the Streets! - Southside (1) Whispers in the Night (4) 1+1+4=6 posts (1pp) Geckoman Life is a Rollercoaster (5) House of L (5) House of L: Wake-up Call (8) Fisticuffs 2: Opening Credits (5) Fisticuffs 2: Rycon vs Geckoman (14) Monsters In The Streets! - Bayview (1) Woman of Quiet Tastes (4) Non-canon The Maltese Gecko (4) 5+5+8+5+14+1+4+2=43 posts (3pp) GM Banking On It (4)

Geckoman arced an eyebrow at that question. "The whole grue thing. Y'know, aliens, giant monsters, death, destruction, city-wide panic?" He shook his head sadly. "Muggers, I can ignore. Godzilla stomping the streets? Not really ready to ignore that." "And I'd rather not discuss my retirement, it's personal."

"Dunno. She's been fine for months," pondered Geckoman. "Thing is, those months have been largely undead-free. She has a kind of issue with them. Not really up to me to disclose, but... that's kind of her normal reaction to dead things walking around."

In defiance of his injuries, Geckoman forward flipped as Rycon tried to help him up, jogging across the arena. "You gotta bounce back from things!" he grinned, doing a handstand and walking on his hands out of the ring.

"Really? He's that important to you? Well, that's... that's..." Wrong! Geckoman threw back his mask. "My name is Christopher James Kenzie and I'm not the Raven. This reality is wrong. I'm Geckoman." Letting his actions sink in, he swung a fist towards Spellbound's face. "And you're not my girlfriend."

Initiative, evil-doers! (1d20+9=17) If I win initiative, FEINT! using Skill Mastery for 32 and PUNCH! Evil-doers, fear the fist of RAVEN! DC 19 (21 if feint successful) (1d20+10=22)

Geckoman still has 2pp for skills! Ok: Knowledge [behavioural Sciences) 3 (+5) Language 2 (French, Spanish, native: English) Investigate +1 -> Investigate 9 (+11) Stealth +2 -> Stealth 10 (+13/+15) DONE BY SHAENTHEBRAIN Also, just get rid of the PL7 sheet. No. I will finish 3DoTG someday.

Geckoman blinked rapidly as he slowly came round. Most of his body still hurt, even if it as healed now. Pushing himself up to his feet, he rubbed his forehead. "Did you guys knock me out and send me to Germany?"

Liz... what? No, that ain't right, that ain't right. "Wha?" Something's majorly wrong. I can't deal with this. And with that thought, the Raven burst into action. "I mean no harm," he reassured, hand held out in an authoritative manner, "All I want is to ask who or what this Gecko Man is? And why you're involved with it?"

The Raven cocked an eyebrow and went to raise his hands in surrender. When the thug hesitated at this action, he quickly swung his fist. POW! One quick upper-cut, and he was letting himself into the house over the unconscious form one unconscious gangster. "Spellbound! I need to speak with you!" Chris's head was swimming with memories fighting to resurge. Raven, Geckoman, Raven, Geckoman. He cupped his hands to his mouth. "Liz!"

STAND ASIDE, CRIMINAL! (1d20+6=17)

The Raven leapt from the car and strode straight up to the thug. "You!" he pointed dramatically. "I need to talk to Spellbound. Now! Kindly step aside, please." I need answers. Liz, Spellbound, whoever you are, it seems important. He drew himself up to his full height, arms across his chest.

"Sure thing, Dad!" grinned Chris, lying through his teeth. Something is wrong. Really, really wrong. "I'm just going to go grab my psychology book from the cave, then I'll head off." Kissing his mother on the cheek, Chris ran down to the cave before Duncan could respond and somehow found himself running to the garage. "Ok, time to find out what the hell is going on. Like why I keep swearing." He quickly threw on his Raven costume, consisting of black tights and a leotard, with grey gloves, belt and boots. Sweeping his long cape around himself, he leapt into the Nightbird. For some reason, the sports car's black paintwork and green highlighting seemed wrong. "Alright. Let's go." He turned the keys, resolved to set off to where the nagging in his head told him Spellbound's secret identity lived.

Epic fail.

What? Spellb... Lizzie? Wait, who's Lizzie? "I guess she had her reasons, I still feel like it's my fault," said Chris sadly. Wait... what!? "But that Gecko Man looks scary. I might need to look into that." "What've we got planned for today?" Chris asked, looking at his father. He's not... goddammit, what's in my- I said goddammit! That's... that's naughty!

Breakfast was great, as usual. Mom was a great cook. And after a night of bashing the baddies, a hearty plate of waffles hit the spot! Then he saw his reflection and the memories started gushing back. Geckoman... I'm the Raven. Wait, no, I'm... He turned pale. Ok, something's seriously wrong. Fake memories? One of Fear-Master's tricks? "Dad, you ever hear of someone called... Geckoman?" It's worth a shot. I mean, he's happy now he's got me to be the Raven.

While I'm waiting, some scrawny kid in an outsized leather jacket swaggers over, letting me see the gun in his pocket. "Wallet, now," he mutters. Oh, isn't he precious. Apparently didn't recognise the coat. "Hey, kid, word of warning. Don't." I think the words are casual enough. Kid doesn't scare me. The fact he immediately pulls out the gun does. "Oi vey, muggers today. Heh, rhymes." "You nuts? Give me your wallet," he hisses. There's no passers-by. Why seem so worried? "Prise it out of my cold dead hands." I blow smoke in the kid's face. Poor choice of words. I think he's on something, he looks strung-out. So I lunge at him. The kid's not too slow, going to raise the gun to shoot. Thing is, I'm not too slow myself. The gun is soon in my hands, cheap piece of crap that it is. Aaaand... definitely on drugs. He's pulled a knife now, despite how obviously good I am. Ah, what the heck. So I let him knife me in the gut. The wound scabs instantly. "Boo." I whack him in the gut. Tough kid. Ordinarily, I think he'd have kept standing. Thing is, I had the edge. I took advantage of him being off-guard from my little knife feint. He dropped like a sack of bricks. That's what this town is now. Thugs, kids on drugs, trying to cope. I don't understand why people stayed. Would they have had they seen this ten years on?

The rain had messed up the scene just enough that all I'd managed was to take some samples from Fear-Master. Blood, vomit, skin, some clothing... the usual. Thing is, I lack a lab for analysis, and I lack the skill to do so effectively. Time to call the boys in blue. A few cops had somehow managed to acquire funding for an under-staffed, over-worked "police department". They try, but frankly, who the hell doesn't these days? I lean against the wall of the alley. "Giordano," I say in greeting as the phone is picked up. The cell network works... barely. I helped get some pylons up again, back before my technical knowledge vanished in the dusty library of memory. "It's me." Well, duh. "What do you need, Chris?" He sounded tired, and old. Hell, he was in his fifties to my knowledge. Shouldn't be stuck in this literal hellhole. "Lab access. I found a stiff. Remember Melvin Blume? Reason we first met." Long time ago, I took a dart of fear poison aimed for Dick Giordano. The Raven had to restart my heart. "Fear-Master? Dead?" He sounded interested, as he should. This was messed-up. "Send a team. Bottom of 23rd." I hung up abruptly. Small talk? Well, we're not friends, me and Giordano. Had a slight falling-out when I swapped my tights for a trenchcoat and a trigger finger. Lighting another cigarette, I smiled. When we first met, I was a dumb kid. Didn't see this ever happening. Life, eh?

Rain cascades down my coat, soaking me to the bone. At least I wasn't as cold as this schmuck, lying face-down in the alley in a pool of blood and vomit. The rain was causing it to dilute and snake, leaving a sticky coating on my shoes. "Ew." Using my collar as a windbreak, I light a Marlboro. Well, hats off, buddy. On the downside, you're kinda dead. Upside, I'm actually going to find who did it, unlike some of the assholes who'd just take your wallet and run. That's an idea. I reach down to grab his wallet from his pocket. Oh, great. Someone else has. Kids today, taking the whole thing and not just the cash and cards. Not that cards help nowadays. Might as well look at his face. When I flip him over though... oh, Christ. Melvin Blume. Fear-Master II. An old enemy of mine. I could turn away. Hell, I should. In life, he was scum. Thing is, I'm not. So I kneel down. "Bet you're laughing your ass off," I tell the corpse as I set to work on him.

Players Name: Ecalsneerg Power Level: 8 (175/120pp) Trade-Offs: N/A Characters Name: Geckoman Alternate Identity: Christopher Kenzie Height: 5'10'' Weight: 160 lbs Hair: Brown Eyes: Brown Description: Chris Kenzie looks haggard and tired, stubble on his jawline and dark circles around his eyes. His Geckoman costume is no longer a full outfit, but rather a dark green trenchcoat with a G printed on the back, and his trademark goggles slung around his neck. He wears a bulletproof vest under his shirt, and with his gadgets in disrepair and ruin, carries a .357 Magnum in his pocket. History: "Hellion's breakdown destroyed us. We stopped the demons, returned Freedom City to Earth. Thing is, we were beyond repair. How could we fix it? Doctor Metropolis had died, along with a good chunk of the superhero populace. The survivors fled, leaving few, so few, to pick up the pieces. There weren't enough people left to justify carrying on. At first, some of the remaining people tried to repair, tried to rise from the ashes. It wasn't enough. Gangs fought over resources, the last bastions of peace holed up. It was like the Moore Act again. Me? I stuck around. I figured, the city needed Geckoman then. God, I was such an idealistic fool. The Pitchoo was downed. Liz was dead, my parents were dead, so many friends... Young Freedom? Assholes didn't lock up Hellion, claimed he was innocent. My parents died. **** those idiots, I didn't need 'em. Ten years on, here I stand, on the raggedy edge. One of the few 'heroes' left. Some people still say we can fix this. Hah. Idealists." Personality & Motivation: A bitter, cynical man, Geckoman nonetheless retains his acid tongue and spark of hope. Projecting an outward image of hate and anger, deep down he wants to fix the city. Powers & Tactics: Geckoman has the proportionate agility and healing power of a gecko, giving him Olympic-level reflexes and the ability to regenerate severed limbs in the space of a few hours. In addition, he can also scale sheer surfaces by clinging to them with his hands and feet, see in low light and the infrared spectrum, and has a slightly heightened resisilence to physical damage and diseases. His gadgetry is long fallen into disrepair, leaving him with only his wits and gun to fight with no. Complications: Addiction (cigarettes): Sure, his healing factor means they won't kill him. The serious lack of them, and fights to get them? They might well kill him. Responsibility (Freedom City): Deep down, Chris wants to fix the city and protect its people. A threat to it is a personal threat to him. Temper (Young Freedom): Disgusted at the aftermath, Geckoman is not "one of those kids from Young Freedom" anymore. Stats: 4+6+4+4+0+10 = 28pp Str: 14 (+2) Dex: 16/20 (+3/+5) Con: 14/18 (+2/+4) Int: 14 (+2) Wis: 10 (+0) Cha: 20 (+5) Combat: 16+12 = 28pp Attack: +8, +10 unarmed or pistol Grapple: +10 Defense: +9 (+3 flat-footed) Knockback: -3/-2, -2/1 w/o costume Initiative: +9/+7 Saves: 2+4+5 = 11pp Toughness: +7/+5 (+4/+2 Con, +3 vest) Fortitude: +6/+4 (+4/+2 Con, +2) Reflex: +8/+6 (+5/+3 Dex, +3) Will: +5 (+0 Wis, +5) Skills: 96r = 24pp Acrobatics 5 (+8/+10, Skill Mastery) Bluff 13 (+18, Skill Mastery) Diplomacy 5 (+10, Skill Mastery) Disable Device 8 (+10) Escape Artist 5 (+8/+10) Gather Information 10 (+15, Skill Mastery) Investigate 8 (+10, Skill Mastery) Knowledge [Technology] 3 (+5) Notice 10 (+10) Pilot 5 (+8/+10, Skill Mastery) Search 8 (+10) Stealth 11 (+14/+16) Survival 5 (+5) Feats: 18pp Attack Specialisation (pistol) Attack Specialization (Unarmed) Beginner's Luck Challenge (Fast Taunt) Connected Dodge Focus 3 Equipment 3 Evasion Fascinate (Bluff) Improved Initiative Luck Sneak Attack Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Bluff, Gather Information, Investigate) Taunt Powers: 4+4+13+4+4 = 27pp Enhanced Dexterity 4 [4pp] Enhanced Constitution 4 [4pp] Regeneration 12 (bruised 3/no action, injured 6/no action, staggered 1/20 mins, disabled 2/hr; Feats: Regrowth) [13pp] Super-Movement 2 (Wall-crawling 2 [full speed]) [4pp] Super-Senses 4 (infravision, low light vision, scent, tracking [olfactory]) [4pp] DC Block: Unarmed - 17/Toughness --- Bruised, Staged Unarmed/Sneak Attack - 19/Toughness, Bruised, Staged Pistol - 19/Toughness --- Bruised, Staged Pistol/Sneak Attack - 21/Toughness, Bruised, Staged Costs: Abilities (28) + Combat (28) + Saves (10) + Skills (24) + Feats (18) + Powers (27) - Drawbacks (00) = 135/135pp

Spaceship turret attaaaaaack on foremost attack ships (1d20+14=29)

"Now? I was thinking lunch first," sighed Arrowhawk, opening fire on the foremost attack ships. Aim for the rears. Spaceship engines go in the rear, right? Cripple, not destroy.

Reflex, hopefully with a chance for Evasion! (1d20+9=20)

OK, Quark or Phalanx, act please ;)