Ecalsneerg
-
Posts
5,015 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by Ecalsneerg
-
"Saignant, s'il vous plaît.," Geckoman said to the waiter, smiling politely. Why did people always assume he didn't speak French? He spoke great French! "Et oui, cales de pomme de terre." He waved a finger at the table. "Pourrais-je avoir un peu de pain pour la table? Merci." To hammer it in, he turned to Ms Shots, and asked, "Que prenez-vous?" "Well, depends what you mean by peek behind the mask?" said the superhero smugly. He took a sip of wine. "Would that count?" He reclined back in his chair. While it'd be to his advantage to maintain a pretence of only speaking American, as he liked to do to mess with Erik, he didn't like the notion of them talking about him in posh places. At least while he was right there.
-
Geckoman pursed his lips and scanned the menu. "Hrm. The steak does look good..." He traced one finger down the menu. "That'd do it. Steak." He put down the menu and grinned widely. "Steak and chips!" He waited for the waiter to take the reporter's order, and leave with their menus. "Well, Ms Shots. We've established we both know the reason for calling this was largely a pretence, and your editor doubted I'd show. So let me ask you, what was your motivation for showing up here? There must be less high profile ways to have fun with the expenses account."
-
"Well, your boss has made a career out of being wrong," drawled Geckoman, smiling and sitting down. "And Geckoman's fine, we don't need the Mister." He leaned back in his seat. This was clearly going to be bait to sell papers. Threat or Menace, what kind of crap was that? "Besides, the superhero community still look up to Johnny Rocket. We'll happily have your boss spending money on us rather than on trying to destroy us." He turned to accept a glass of wine from a waiter, and to thank him. He took a sip from the glass, and tilted his head appreciatively. "Anyway, say I convince you of my utter harmlessness, and frankly, look at the outfit. Your boss will print I'm a threat. Say I turned around and attacked the whole room. Your boss will print I'm a threat. Every single action, one outcome." He took another sip. "As it happens, I do enjoy gambling, Ms Shots. This interview isn't a gamble, the house has fixed the outcome. The variable here is if you know that or not."
-
This was taking too long. Way too long. Galvanic had to find that reactor and take down this ship now. She closed her eyes, fingers rising to her temples as her electric sacs on her forehead sparked a bright blue colour, even against her skin. She could sense electromagnetic radiation at a distance, a huge concentration of it. While lots of smaller sources were present, running here and there, there was too much to interpret it all. So Galvanic just flew towards the largest source at high speed, arms ahead of her. At the first door between her and the main reactor, she didn't slow, the Tempestian flying at it like a humanoid missile.
-
Ok, then conclude with the Standard Action: Charge towards the door (at Flight 8 speeds, so easily reaching it), and Power Attack for 5 against it unarmed. Charge and power attack a door: 1d20+4 6. That's a DC33 Toughness on that door.
-
Free Action: Extra Effort off the main array, for Super-Senses! Super-Senses (Detect Electromagnetism 3 [mental; accurate 2, acute, analytical, extended 2 [100' increments], ranged, radius, tracking 2]) [10PP] Move Action: Attempt to find the main reactor to get to it faster! Notice check: 1d20+5 15
-
Geckoman is not a wine man. He is a man who can use Diplomacy, though. You sweet talker, you: 1d20+15 31
-
Geckoman turned to look up at Sasha Shots and gulped. It took him a good moment to get his eyes high enough to notice she was watching him with opera glasses. "Welp," he said, utterly deadpan, and knocked back the glass in his hand in one go. He handed the glass back to the Maitre'd. "Well, sir," he said slowly. He dragged his eyes over to actually look at the man. "That wine seemed fine enough, but ultimately the arts of cuisine are really much more your area of expertise than mine, I wouldn't hope to have the profession you have." Geckoman tapped his forehead and nose. "Simply lack your knack for it, I suppose. Please, I am sure whatever you would recommend, my good man, would be entirely satisfactory." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Nothing too heady, we may be a while."
-
Geckoman wasn't hugely satisfied with the sweep. Too many people, too much existing security. Also, wasn't this place meant to be run by vampires? Literal ones, not rich businessmen? Clearly not a place which'd be on his side. He casually spun on his heels to face the Maitre'd. He kept swishing his heels from side to side as he looked the man up and down. "Ah, very kind of her," he said, brazenly not meaning the compliment in the slightest. He took the glass from the man, and raised it to his lips, but didn't drink more than the slightest trickle going past his lips. "Is her, ah, interviewer here yet? I assume you'd know the seating arrangements better than I."
-
Current events: 1d20+2 20 This string of luck will not end well later.
-
OK, use Skill Mastery on Bluff for 31 to just walk past the bouncers with all the toys. And some Notice, for Casing the joint: 1d20+9 25
-
Geckoman's Cuban heels clicked on the floor as he strolled nonchalantly past the bouncers. He didn't wear his usual costume. They were trying to take him out of his environment, lure him into some sort of... thing. And, frankly, he never got to wear a suit anymore. The one he wore was a three-piece, the trousers and double-breasted jacket both cut to fit in a bright green similar to that or his costume. He wore a pale, pale yellow shirt underneath a near-golden waistcoat, eschewing a tie in favour of leaving the top few buttons open. His customary goggles stayed on, without the usual full head mask, the straps keeping the sides of his hair down even as the top fought to spike and curl in random directions. "Evening," he nodded at a couple of diners as he strode in. He casually waved at a croupier. Or he thought he was a croupier. Unlike the hospital fiasco, he wasn't unarmed. His waistcoat was a modified utility belt harness, with some smokebombs and boomerangs in the pockets, circuitry in the seams and buttons, and staves slotted in at the sides. Chris pointedly made a show of wandering the casino floor for a while. He could easily find the reporter. But this could be a set-up, so he surreptitiously cased the joint. Cameras, anyone who looked suspicious even by a casino's standards. Concealed weapons. Anything that a quick sweep would show.
-
"Hmmm," said Equinox pensively. "Well, I think I might have an answer." She turned to Pitch. "Well, not to your questions. This is really quite a complicated thing, I don't think even Eldrich'd be able to turn around and give a quick answer." She turned back to Nick. "But even if this guy isn't entirely physically or mentally here, he's still somewhere." The witch shrugged. "Why don't we go ask him? The entire energy map of this area is pointing to this physical body, why wouldn't that be the case on other planes? Bar something wildly different, the flows'd be similar. We could project our consciousnesses and see if we could find some way to communicate with our friend here."
-
Galvanic stopped short. Two more drones guarding this door? Well, it must lead somewhere, she reasoned. "Gentlemen," she smiled, floating down to the floor, electricity coruscating down her arms and sparking on her forehead. "You desirewant to clear that doorway." She hurled the bolt of lightning in an overhead throw, it crashing down between the two. The bolt sparked out in a wide cloud of explosive force, a combination of the displacement, force and electrical power smashing the two drones to the side. The power of it was such that the doorway ahead of her had a circular, smoking hole in it, ringed with red hot metal, revealing what lay beyond it. "Told you."
-
Full Round Action: Deploy the Area Burst Damage 11, centered to hit the drones and the door.
-
All-out Attack for 5, Power Attack for 3. Then take 10 to hit, so that's a 19, with a DC33 electrical Strike attack. Then go flying looking for something important to punch
-
Galvanic gritted her teeth and growled as yet another drone drew claws across her. Yet, still she didn't buckle or even slow down. She merely spun around furiously, delivering a sparking rabbit punch, the blow crashing into the metal drone like a thunderclap. "<I hate these things,>" she muttered to herself in her native tongue, before taking flight once more and soaring down the corridors at high speed, in search of some kind of vital power coupling or command centre that would help disable the ship from the inside.
-
Galvanic >Incursion: Opportunists & Opposition Geckoman >Adventures in Babysitting In Space >Jinn and Tonic +1 Ref pp, roll all his stuff to Galvanic, she needs more toys Equinox >Welcome to Springsvale, AZ
-
Dc24 Toughness: 1d20+12 21 5 Bruises! C'mon.
-
Geckoman shook his head. "Right. You're reporters, much of the necessities of your job are taking in information, and using words. I said I'd give a statement, not take questions. Apparently some of you didn't take that in, or didn't understand that. Just sayin'." He took a deep breath. "Right, there are two versions of this story. One, the warped one the likes of that foul harp will spit out. I don't know that story. Go to your offices and start typing if you want to tell it. I hope it's interesting, and I know some of you are already planning it." Geckoman sharply inclined his head away from the hospital. "Go on, scram. You've got a deadline here." He squatted down on his haunches. "Now, children, here's the second story. On a patrol, I investigated a robbery. This turned out to be a kidnapping..." He launched into a detailed, comprehensive account of his capture, draining of blood, and the chase of Doc Tonic to the hospital, including the Doc's motives, but deliberately leaving out his name or description. For all his crazy, unlike the journalists or cops, at least that man had tried to help someone. He explained that the ambulance had contained this man, that the police had made no move to stop the hijacked ambulance, necessitating a hasty action gone wrong in an attempt to stop said ambulance plowing through bystanders and police. "So, there's my side of the story. I know some of you have no interest in printing that. I know some of you do, but your editors prefer a nice second Mercedes with their sales bonus to integrity. So, go ahead, go be judgey or what have you. Because you know what, I don't know if I'd do this the same way if I did it again, I don't even know if that serum of my blood would have cured the daughter. But you know what, I tried to do something. So, like Lana Loeb so courteously put it, throw out some lies. Throw out some lies over what you'd have done. Because if, as I strongly suspect, that serum would kill that girl, don't delude yourself into thinking you'd have done better. The vast majority of you would have done nothing, and if the girl died, not felt a goddamn thing." Geckoman bowed his head. "I tried to do something, and if, if miracles do happen, noone got hurt here, even then I will still feel guilt. I didn't do the right thing here. There's going to be a lot of digging here, but remember. A lot of you just stood and watched this happen. Don't pretend you'd have done better." He leaned back to shout at the police. "Take me away, boys!"
-
Geckoman gritted his teeth, and clicked his neck from side to side. He leaned in close, and gave Lana Loeb a crocodilian smile. "You have no interest in what I have to say. You have no interest in who was actually driving said ambulance, or what they intended to do to anyone in that hospital. You did see the driver paralyze a police officer, right? Oh, no. No interest in reporting any of that." Geckoman smiled any wider. "So print the same lie you print daily. And that lie is... 'Lana Loeb Is A Journalist'." The greenclad hero yanked away from the police. "What is true is that yes, what happened here was a tragedy, and what happened here should not have happened. And what is true is that tomorrow, the city will know. To that end, as I said to the police, I will give a full unedited statement to the press, then be taken in by police for questioning." He turned back to gaze Lana Loeb in the eye. "So, again." He spoke to the crowd, but fixed his gaze on her. "I'd like to talk to a journalist to give that statement please."
-
Geckoman rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, I know I gave a really rushed description and all, but he's the guy I needed you to stop getting into paediatrics to inject a girl with an unstable mix of chemicals which were intended to cure a degenerative disease, but would in all likelihood kill her." He sucked in a massive breath after the long sentence he'd hurried out in sheer exasperation. "C'mon, guys." He took a couple of steps back. "Y'know what, I get it. You think I don't know launching an ambulance into a hospital wasn't bad? Really, really bad? But I was in a terrible situation. I had no options. I had no armaments. I had nothing, except a phone call. Which turned out to lead to a situation which ends in me having to hit a man with a wheelchair because he wanted to help his daughter. And... this. This is the outcome." The greenclad detective leaned in towards the closest officer. "So here's my compromise. You guys have helped me before, but today..." Geckoman shrugged. "Today is not one of those days. So I go outside, without handcuffs, because I'm just too tired for the charade that they'd do anything. I give my statement to the press in my own words, without your input. Then we go sort this out at the station." He blinked and shook his head. "And... I can't actually believe I'm saying this, but if you can figure out a way to shut down his powers, let the man see his kid, even for five minutes."
-
Geckoman sighed and took a step back from Tonic's prone form. Great. He'd stopped a man trying to cure his daughter of a deadly illness. He blearily looked at the cops, lidded eyes looking at them through his goggles. "Freeze, or what? You'll set up an ineffective cordon? You'll fail to pick up from dispatcher that an ambulance got hijacked? Did nothing to stop said hijacked ambulance heading to a hospital you'd been warned was about to be attacked? Y'know what?" Geckoman sighed and wheeled, hands held high. "I'll freeze. If you shot me, you might have the satisfaction of having actually contributed anything today."
-
Geckoman effortlessly dodged the blow, letting the momentum roll him slightly. With a pained grunt, he came to his feet, grabbing the wheelchair as he went. He managed to heft it up, and draw it back in a pitcher's swing. "I know this isn't how you're meant to talk in a hospital, but will you goddamn just lie down, you maniac! Stop this now! I am sick of this, OK? Look at everything you have done!" He swung the chair at Doc Tonic's head. "All you have done today is hurt everyone, and I am tired of trying to help you!"
-
OK. Move Action: Pick up the wheelchair. Standard Action: Hit him with the wheelchair! All-out Attack for 2, Power Attack for 5. Including his Exhaustion, that drops him to Defence +10, his Attack is +13, and the DC is 15 + 1 Strength + 5 PA + x for the wheelchair. He is so sick of this man: 1d20+13 22 Man, HP to reroll. Geckoman is pissed, he is hitting him with this chair. Really wants to hit him: 1d20+13 29 And so he does.