Ecalsneerg

Not until September 22ndish.

"Agh. I can't really say I've had much worse than that... yeouch." He managed to sit up. Two dead, and all because I screwed up. And neither of them was Malice. I don't think I've ever made a mistake like this before... No. Getting maudlin won't help at a time like this. "Thanks for helping out, mate... I'll be fine. You better go help out, stop those fires... I should be fine."

Arrowhawk has a good Notice. (1d20+18=31) Hah! Your disguise doesn't fool me!

It's true. I once asked him to buy me a cheese bagel and I got a ham one instead. Asshole.

"Trouble is, dude, you can fix this, but what happens if something screws up again? Or again? I'm not saying you have to become emotional as a toddler, but you're about as repressed as a man with a stick rammed right up his... well, you know what I mean. I think your trouble is that you don't think you should let people know how you feel. You're scared of pissing people off, even if it's the right thing to do. I mean, it's not ideal, but sometimes you just need to go piss someone off. A small problem to stop a long-term one."

"We have to stop meeting like this." Dammit... Too close again! Breeeeathe! ... Think of baseball, too. "Fake Tim Burton managed to poison the soda, but I stopped its distribution. There... may be questions about how I did it, but in my defence there was very little time before someone bought it and drunk it. " He reached into his pockets and started rummaging. "Unfortunately, while I did that, the poisoner escaped. But I did find a hotdog I think his DNA may be on. Well, his or an accomplice's." He pulled out the hotdog and proffered it. "Sorry if it's a bit mussed up, I couldn't find one of those little plastic baggies."

"I'm through here," shouted Arrowhawk through gritted teeth, lying on a table in the medical bay. He'd torn open further the hole in his trousers, and had injected painkillers into his leg near where the shrapnel had gone in. "How's the situation back in Riverside?" Popping a pad of gauze between his teeth, he drew the scalpel around the wound site.

Up to 4 HP, for record-keeping purposes.

Chris had reappeared clad in the clothes he had arrived in, sunglasses back on. "Subtlety is our forte! Just make sure nobody throws a car or something. Nothing's more noticeable than a car flying through the air."

"I have an... idea," pondered Geckoman. "We split into two teams. One team goes to find the modulator. The second achieves the primary objective, that of beating up lots of Nazis. That way, we've both got a distraction so we can get the doohickey that'll get us home, and we're concurrently doing what the rebel peeps need us to do."

Arrownitiative! (1d20+9=10) Weeee!

"You want to fly? Because, so help me, any backseat piloting I will pull over and we'll see how you do!" said Chris indignantly, flicking a couple of switches experimentally. "I think underwater is still safer, as even if we don't have mines and stuff, we're still flying a submarine into Nazi territory. Just because they don't have robot sharks in the sky doesn't mean they lack conventional aircraft. Although," he peered at a couple of labelled switches. "I think we have machine guns. Maybe torpedoes. Do robot sharks explode easily?"

Geckoman pulled a hammer from his utility belt and handed it to Mark. "Sparks or cogs go flying? Percussive maintenance always works. Trust me." He then started flicking switches and pulling levers. "Ok, let's all go get shot," he exclaimed happily, tugging on the wheel and attempting to force the machine into life. It didn't. So he whacked it with a wrench and tried again.

Master Plan (1d20+2=14) Bleh. +1 bonus. Also, I'll ready an attack on the thugs present for when the car hits the spikes.

Arrowhawk stood, an armoured and cowled figure against the night sky. Ducking behind rooftops and chimney stacks for cover, he silently watched the thugs. They plan to kidnap one of Scarletti's people. Italian undermob. But why? Is this over the smuggling dispute Vaslev's had with him? But they're mobsters. A man gets captured, he's a fool and is left to die. Unless it's someone very important, but I'd've heard of this Natasha... I need to find out. This sounds big. They'll try to take out whoever's in the car as soon as they spike it, so they can get their mark. I'll thus need to subdue them as soon as the car goes over the trail. Then the car will try to escape, even with wrecked tires. They're target two, and will likewise be sudued. I'll need to interrogate someone from both sides.

Arrowhawk flung himself to the side as the pavement gave way beneath Scarab's feet. Oh no, I better help... wait, what's that? He spun to see the gunman from before had somehow managed to stand up and had a gun pointed at him. Lightning reflexes kicked in, and the first shot went whizzing over his head. Unfortunately, the second shot hit him in the chest and threw him flat on his back.

Damn you and your stunning.

Hmmm... Streetwise. Do I know you? (1d20+16=20)

Are we all representing a little of each, or are we each taking one of the three and going with it?

Because we'd rather look through the actual sheet, not the 2 pages of commentary.

Stop arguing and let me put a half-eaten hotdog in my pockets :P

I'll suffer the -4. Why would he carry proper evidence bags?

Geckoman decided to prioritise the immediate criminal over the threat of crime the next day. After all, there wasn't much he could do to track the signal from his current location. Instead, he wandered over to the empty spot. "Yeah, dumb crooks," he commented to the people on either side. "Amount of supers in this town, how do they think they can get away with this stupid stuff? I wouldn't watch Channel 39 tomorrow, though. Bad joojoo." He picked up the half-eaten hot dog. I'm guessing Raven has DNA analysis stuff... I hope she does. 'Cos I don't. He popped it in an empty utility belt pouch and ducked under the bleachers in search of his quarry.

Approved

And more, much more than this, I did it my waaaaaaay!