Ecalsneerg

Geckoman pondered for a second, his thought processes not even interrupted by the faint hum of How cool is this place? For once, his easily distracted mind was actually thinking, although for the first thirty seconds it was closer to Oh no, what if I guess wrong? Pressure... pressure... pressure... dammit! than a solution. Then, inspiration struck. "Food," he said slowly. "That's the common link. The sisters went missing, without a cell phone or keys, and cotton candy was found on the scene. Officer Robinson's scent crossed paths with fake Tim Burton at a spot with a half-eaten hotdog, and a coke mixer, fitting with the alcohol connection, and fitting with the use of Cola as a transmission medium. Fake Tim Burton contaminated a drinks vending stall. The latter got foiled, but the first two instances... completely AWOL, no cell phones, noone found them." He sped up as he gained confidence in his idea. "The two sisters, clean records. The officer, exemplary record, so their link to these crimes is really out of character, regardless of me not having met them, and I'm awesome, so I'd probably draw similar conclusions from meeting them. It's not in character. Conundrum's really smart, Fear-Master's using the toxins of his predecessor... perhaps the formula got modified to alter behaviour in some way other than screaming bloody terror." "So, I suppose my theory is that all these people are being controlled, and the Cola thing was an attempt to do that on a massive scale. Officer Robinson got used to do it in the stadium, being on security detail and having a maintenance uniform meant he could go anywhere in the stadium, and unnoticed too if he wanted. He probably helped get fake Tim Burton in. The purpose of the drugged Cola is somehow linked to the broadcast, cos they made that message probably not knowing that I foiled them. Hell, they didn't know I was alive." Geckoman stopped, thoughtful. "The sisters, I got two theories. One is that it was a lure to get you distracted, but Conundrum couldn't help leaving the note. Like you said, he can't help it. The other is, it was an experiment. Fear toxin scaring him already, then a scary film goes on and pushes him right over. The sisters were the agents used to kill him as part of the experiment, cue the two supervillains and their toughs showing to inspect their work." He finally stopped talking, took a breath, and flashed a grin. "So, how many holes does my elaborate deducation contain?"

Arrowhawk paused. Wait... she's stopped talking... and gone red. Did I offend her? Christ, I'm a forty-year-old man, I should know what to do in this situation. He looked at her and smiled. Oh, what the hell. Worst comes to worst, I'm the creepy guy who came in the window and how is that different from most people's reactions? He reached up with the hand not on Vivian's lap and slowly brought it up to run it through her hair. "Thank you," he said hesitantly and softly.

Surprisingly, Arrowhawk nodded in agreement. "Ok, then. Next time." "Well..." he said, trying to ignore her hands working their way over him. "One guess is Orion. He's one of the best gunmen around, and he's apparently worked for the mob lately. Thing is, last I knew he was in Blackstone." In trying to get his arms out of her way so she could fuss with the bandages, his hand somehow ended up on her leg. Um...

Arrowhawk reluctantly let himself get led over to the bed. My life is a surrealist drug trip. "Um, yeah, if you've got whisky, then... wait, you Americans call it Scotch. No ice." He sat down heavily and smiled at her next comment, however wryly. "I don't doubt that, but I think in this case you'd not be strong enough. I'm usually fast enough to not get hit directly in the chest," said Arrowhawk with a tinge of regret. That's not happened in years. Perhaps I'm just getting too old. "I just can't think of who or why... well, I can't narrow down who or why."

Arrowhawk forced himself to stand and struggle over to the window. "I'm not sure, but it was a good shot," he said, pulling the curtains shut. "Not many people could take me out like that." He shook his head then turned away from Vivian. "You should have left me, I don't know who it was, and thus if they'd come after you. And I don't think either of us want that." He rubbed at his temples, still ignoring the pain in his chest.

Ok, looks better, so long as you accept he's defensively lacking. :approved:

Arrowhawk nodded, taking another swig of his drink. "Sounds plausible," he conceded. Then suddenly a thought occured to him, and his eyes narrowed again under his domino mask. "Wait... what if someone saw you take me up here? And why didn't you take me to a hospital or something?" OK, veering into the rude again... "I mean, if the person who shot me followed you..." He trailed off sounding, concerned.

2 HP Take 10 on the Minions, using my 7 5' Shapeable squares to hit as many as possible. That's a 35' line/7' radius, 15' diameter circle, yadda yadda. That should hit a few robots in front. Power Attacking for 3, so 24 to hit, DC 25 And now I'm flat-footed. Joy.

Arrowhawk slid to the wall to the side of the elevator, aiming and firing in rapid succession, heedless to the laser barrage heading towards him. This is gonna hurt... Walking his fire along in a row, he launched a volley of razor-pointed arrows spinning through the air at the robots. "That's a lot of lasers..."

Ok, should work, yeah. Approved

"Eh," grunted Arrowhawk. "Had worse." ... why am I half-naked? Oh, not again. He tried to stand up when Vivi had left the room, but felt his chest tighten painfully so settled for sitting down on the bed, self-consciously glancing around for his shirt or something. He reluctantly accepted the drink. Grudgingly, he downed some of the mead, showing little reaction to a mouthful of liquor. "Out of curiousity..." wondered the Scot idly. "How did you get me across and up eighteen floors? No offence, but you don't look like you could easily lift me." Wait... she just saved my l... well-being. I should be nicer. "Uh... thanks, by the way."

"Least I can remain in a conversation until the end of it, and not disappear," remarked Geckoman with a start as Raven appeared out of nowhere. I stand by choice, I didn't screw up. Did I screw up? Oh god, she thinks I screwed up! "And they're rich people. They can afford an extra hour in bed," he continued obstinately. Screwed up, screwed up! Then he was stopped short. "Wha? The Rookery? You're taking me to your secret HQ?" AWESOMEAWESOMEAWESOMEAWESOMEAWESOME. Ahem. Non-chalantly, he managed "Cool, that works."

That's an unusual colour, is it linked to his powers, or is it just a descriptive term for deep brown eyes (homo sapiens can't have black irises naturally, and I know of no recorded real life mutations for it). Looks good, but you don't need the quote tags. I'd also like to see more on being a superhero. Currently, it looks like a person-with-powers, with family mysteries to look into. Dark pasts are a genre staple, but so is fighting crime and stopping supervillains. Justice League, not Heroes. Adds up. But follow, formatting, it's not 16pp, it's 2+4+0+2+4+4=16pp Adds up, but see formatting note. And note your Attack Focus here. Right, major concern. This is a superhero game, and thus combat happens. Defensively, you're PL 2. If you didn't Teleport away, a thug with a knife could kick your ass into next week. Adds up, needs correct formatting. Exotic saves are also quite low, Shaen recommends PL-2 on average. Adds up, although all the bonuses seem quite low. It's generally good to have a few skills at high levels, say, +10 for PL7. Adds up. Formatting again. I'd add the carrying capacity to the Dimensional Pocket and Teleport for quick reference. And Dimensional on Teleport doesn't let you teleport between Dimensions. That's Super-Movement (dimensional travel).

Looks good, but an interdimensional police force is really something we'd like more information on. Adds up. Adds up. I personally would make more of the Attack up from Accurate/Attack Focus/Attack Specialisation, but who am I to object to a player getting base Attack? Adds up. I would note that exotic saves are pretty low for a PL 10. They average out to 5, Shaen generally recommends averaging to 7-8 at least for a PL 10, even if that average comes from one high save. Adds up, but I'd format it: Language 4 (Dutch, French, Italian, Japanese; native: English) since your way confused my adding at a swift glance. Also, out of curiosity... Dutch? Doesn't seem like a choice that'd leap out at me. (Not an objection, genuine curiosity) Adds up, but is there any reason he has no feats linked to other things but combat? Even Connected or Contacts to represent help from his organisation? Also, to clarify, you are aware Wealth 1 is just quite rich, not millionaire level, although it stills makes sense if his cash is tied up in his restaurants. Devices themself add up. Before I do the maths, can you format the powers in the correct way, such as: Cobalt Knight Armor – Device 16 (Hard to Lose) - 64 pp Mystic Sword – Device 2 (Easy to Lose) – 6 pp Seems to add, but without costs it's hard to judge. Help us help you Drawbacks: 4 = 4 pp Normal Identity (Major, Common [Full-Round]) – 4 pp DC Block: Barrage of Weapons (Blast 8) --- 23/Toughness --- Bruised, Staged Mystic Sword --- 23/Toughness --- Bruised, Staged Chains of the Once-Imprisoned --- 18/Reflex --- Entangled, Staged Unarmed --- 18/Toughness --- Bruised, Staged Costs: Abilities (28) + Combat (32) + Saves (8) + Skills (12) + Feats (10) + Powers (70) - Drawbacks (4) = 156 pp note: I'd like to port over the 6 pp from The Vestige thus the 156 pp build

Edit request time! Arrowhawk Change his last complication to:

Geckoman steered down towards the tower with the penthouses atop it, whistling a merry tune as he went. Gently lowering the craft to hover inches off the roof, he crept out of it and looked around for the Raven. "Hello?" he called, voice wavering nervously. Please don't sneak up on me... "Raven?" He sniffed the air experimentally as he glanced around him.

Softness. Warmth. Arrowhawk was only semi-conscious for much of the time. Then the voice came from somewhere on the edge of his hearing. Someone is taking off my mask. Almost by animal instinct, ignoring the pain in his chest, Arrowhawk's arms lunged upwards and grabbed Vivian's wrists in a vice-like grip. He started applying pressure as he growled. "Who the hell are you!?" Then rational thought started clawing its way back, and his grip loosened (although he kept a hold). "Vivian? What... why am I here?"

I hate Midtown, thought Arrowhawk as the bullet tore through his cape. He slid down the roof tiles to the chimney stack in a shower of slate, crouching for cover just as a hail of gunfire tore over his head. Dammit, who is shooting at me!? Unsure of where to go, he broke cover and sprinted towards the edge of the roof. But, at the least possible second, his bad leg collapsed under him even as a round burst through his chest armour, sending him crashing onto the hard cement. The last he thought before blacking out was that, once again, he hated Midtown. Orion ducked down behind the window and put the sniper rifle into its guitar case. Knowing he'd attract little suspicion 3 streets away, he casually saunted out of the room, down the elevator and into the streets, whistling a jaunty tune.

Geckoman could bust out his ol' six string!

Well, thought so... Arrowhawk narrowed his eyes as he picked up his bow. "I'm a busy man. In the time you wasted, I could have arrested ten muggers, or carjackers, or drug dealers." He turned up and climbed onto the window ledge. OK, that was slightly harsh. Hmmm... Turning, he forced a wink from under the shadow of his cowl. "Next time, I'm partial to a drink first./color]" And too convivial. "I will be checking up on you again. What's it the kids say... catch you around?" And with that, he turned to leap from the window.

Arrowhawk dropped his bow to the ground and once again folded up his arms. Now... go! "Ok, then. But I think it's my turn to ask this question." He looked at his feet for a second, and sighed deeply. Because I can't pick up hints to save my life. Bullets? Fiiine. Hints? Scary. "What exactly do you want from me, here?" Ask a stupid question, cue... stupid answer.

Oh... bouncing... damn. Arrowhawk took a couple of steps backwards. This never happened to the Raven. Dammit, I know she's playing me. "Look, Viv- um, madam," began Arrowhawk. Ok, keep it formal. "I apologise if you're offended by my actions, but if you want me to leave, please just say so." Flee! Run away! I'm a disgrace.

Notice that Raven (1d20+5=9). Wait. What Raven?

"Fine. I believe you," said Arrowhawk, rolling his eyes. "But if it was something innocuous, isn't it quite immature to mess with the guy who just happened to check if you were OK? Seriously." Arrowhawk met her gaze. "I'm just here to help, there's no need to act... well, like that."

Lie. "Listen... "Vivi"," growled Arrowhawk. "I'm far from stupid, and like I said, I don't like people playing games with me." He pointed the bow at her. "Now what are you mucking around with?" Eyes gleaming red, his glare cut a swathe towards her. C'mon, give it up. What's going on?