Ecalsneerg
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Geckonitiative! Trapped in a mosh pit... (1d20+10=14)
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"Yeah, it has been a long day," sighed Chris. "Thanks, sir." Feet heavy with leaden guilt at what he'd said, he trudged to the door and pulled it open. Then he paused, turned his head slightly, and grinned. "You do know I'm not fooled, right?" And with that, he was gone with nothing but a wink and the soft thud of the doorframe.
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MASTER PLAAAAN! Round 1-3: +2 to skill and attack rolls Round 4: drops to +1 Round 5: null and void Enjoy, people! Startle, then power attack Orion for 5. DC 27 Toughness if it hits. (1d20+20=26, 1d20+12=23)
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Arrowhawk burst into the courtyard, cape billowing and red eyes blazing beneath his hood. He nocked his bow as his eyes tracked the courtyard. "Ok, people, you know the plan, now do it! Midnight, can you think of a way to hem them in? I'll take out gun-bunny." With that he levelled an arrow at Orion, raising his voice to get his attention. "Hey, Orion! Ready to get locked up again?" he called to the assassin, waiting just long enough for him start turning before letting the blunthead fly.
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Geckoman sat at the computer console in the Arborealair, watching TV on one screen while programming the basic systems. "Liiiiiiiiiz!" he shouted. "Where's the USB with OpenOffice in it?" The sound of welding in the background ceased for a second. "In your pockets." Liz got back to attaching the blast doors to the Pitchoo's hangar. Chris reached into his belt to find... the USB stick he needed. Then he paused when he saw Alex walk on TV. "WHAT?!" There was a clatter as he fell off the chair and lay pointing. Liz threw the welding iron aside and came running up. "What the bloody hell did you do now?" she asked in an incredibly exasperated tone. "Alex! Television! Identity!" he said in a high-pitched voice. "Alex!" Liz turned and watched the show for a while. "Weird. You wanna call Mike or someone?" "Alex! Television! Identity!" "Uh-huh. I'm'a give you ten minutes, OK sweetie?"
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DC 21 Ref/Will (1d20+10=22, 1d20+5=7) Yay, Geckoman isn't mind controlled and crazy!
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DC 21 Reflex, then DC 21/16 Will for SPOOKY MIND CONTROL (1d20+5=8, 1d20+7=13) Oh, Spellbound, you so crazy. Geckoman is incensed! DC 21 Reflex, then DC 21/16 Will for SPOOKY MIND CONTROL (1d20+5=8, 1d20+7=13)
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"NOOOO!" shouted Chris as the automatic weapon fire tore through Spellbound's force field and left her lying in a pool of blood. "I'll kill you, Rick! I will slaughter you!" "Hah, kid, you can't get out of the chair," the ex-Marine leered. On his neck, a fresh Cobra tattoo was visible. "I'm the new Cobra boss. And I could order them to execute you right now, but that's no fun." "Heh. See this band on my ankle? If my lifesigns stop, it detonates. Kill me, you go down with me," said Chris, voice even as he lied. Looking at Rick, he grinned. "But that's no fun." Rick calmly walked up, and tore it off, hurling it out the window of the warehouse. "You lied to me, kid. I don't hear an explosion." "Yeeeeah... just tricked you into ripping off a power nullifier." Chris felt the ropeburn healing. "Moron. Let me free, so I can help Liz." A few thugs had grabbed her by the arms and were dragging her away. Rick leaned in close to Geckoman's face and sneered. "No. I'm done getting toyed with by kids." His first punch glanced off, cueing a mocking laugh from Chris. The second shattered teeth and cracked his nose. "C'mon, you can do better," growled Geckoman as the third punch outright shattered his nose, sending blood trailing down his face. He could feel the wounds healing already. There was hope. He just had to hold o- A final punch smashed the chair to the floor and spent Chris spiralling into unconsciousness.
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A HP for now having to save Liz. I'll let her insta-pass the first save to keep from dying as an apology for just dropping her. In an hour, that won't be the case. Bwahaha. Geckoman's Trick can't get beaten by Rick. So he un-Nullifies Geckoman, but leaves him tied up. Then Rick just mauls him, flat-footed and unable to dodge, into unconsciousness. I'll disregard his costume as Equipment for now, since he's unmasked and getting hit in the face. Repeated Toughness saves against Rick mauling him. DC 18 : [[20, 4],[14, 4],[15, 4],[6, 4],[6, 4],[1, 4],[18, 4],[8, 4],[8, 4],[19, 4]] So... pass by 10, fail by 4 (bruised+injured), fail by 5 (bruised + injured), fail by 15 (dying). The rest is just insult to injury.
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OK, screw this. "Liz, I love you. None of what Chris Kenzie and Liz Lawlett had was a lie. None of it." He looked at Liz dead in the eye. "Geckoman and Spellbound, yes, that's messed up. And we can fix that, because Geckoman and Spellbound are orders of magnitude less important." "How do I know you're telling the truth?" said Liz quietly, her resolve clearly weakening. "Well, we could-" Chris was interrupted by the sound of a rifle cocking. Oh, no. Then a familiar voice boomed out. "Spellbound! You cheating piece of trailer trash!" Slim Rick. Last I saw him, I'd... oh, damn. "You didn't say you were using my men as bait." Chris, astonished, looking at Liz. "I needed them to lure out Young Freedom in case they disrupted my plan. I thought, well... they're thugs, it's not like I'm using anyone you guys wouldn't arrest anyway..." "Untie me, quickly." Chris spoke quickly, and in a low tone of voice. "This man in dangerous. He nearly killed me once. Filled my with lead and handed me to Fear-Master. Untie me and run." "You aren't going anywhere!" snarled Rick, as gunfire filled the air.
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Goddammit, see my point of view, old man! Wait... c'mon, tongue, say it aloud! Dammit. "He's not dead, y'know. He's not on this planet anymore, but I don't think he died. He'll come back one day, I'm sure of it. Because, for all that I refuse to accept he was justified, he loved his wife and son. He'll come back." "So, yeah, I had one thing I wanted to ask, but was too scared to until this second." His voice and features softened again, and a sad frown replaced his anger. "I understand if you don't want to answer, but even in a complete lie of a reality, she was still, even for a while, my mom. She made me waffles for breakfast." He rubbed his eyes and sighed. "What happened to Jasmine Summers?"
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Chris's eyes narrowed. Really... the... no. He got up and kicked the chair backwards. "No. I'm not lying about what I think, just because you're a scary, scary man! I come here to find out what happened, because I think that what we got from a man trying to fulfil our deepest desires is important. I did not come to get convinced that he was in any way, shape or form justified." He started listing things on his fingers. "My real parents? Dead. Midnight's parents? I overheard earlier, they were dead too. So, that's four confirmed deaths. Then, he killed my Lizzie. Not bodily, but after I crawled through fire and bullets and agony to pull her back from the brink? One brick, he turned her into a cackling sociopath in love with the 'Geckoman', a giant humanoid lizard thing." Geckoman leaned forwards over the desk, until his nose was nearly touching Summers's. Don'tcrydon'tcry keep it together! "5 deaths. Likely more. 3 directly linked to me. And in my grief, how many did I kill?" Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to hold the man's stare.
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Cagey. "I dunno, at least legally, and near-definitely in the eyes of the adopters, an adopted kid is immediate family. Although the man was a colossal douche, so your theory has some merit." Chris stopped to think again for another second. C'mon, c'mon, how does one outsmart the Raven? "Thing is, the current female Raven refers to you as 'Old Man'. Sounds kind of like she thinks of herself as a successor." And who led to me meeting her to learn that? HEHEHEHEHEHEH
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"Ok, then," said Chris, leaning forward in his chair. Game time. "Why would it be, sir, that in a reality where Rick Lucas has brought back heroes from his sidekick days, to fulfil my apparent desire to be the Raven, that I end up adopted by the former Raven?" Hmmm... should clarify that one. "The former Raven was you. And, unless there's something I don't know, that seems arbitrary."
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"Um..." Dammit, that's not particularly clear, is it? "Ok, to be clear, were you briefed on the details of, and occurences within, the parallel Earth Rick Lucas briefly transformed our world into it, before his son convinced him that he should stop." Chris stopped and took a deep breath. "To stop people repeating each other over and over, how much of that do you know?"
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"I assume you know of the explosion at the Lucas household earlier today," said Chris with a grave expression on his face. "That's sort of what I need to talk to you about." He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts. OK, let's start with finding out how much he was told. "Have you been informed of what happened to James, Erin, Eve, Trevor and I during those events? Apparently only we remember it, and I don't know how much they told you, if they told, when or why, etcetera, yadda yadda."
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"Stop hiding on top of walls would help for a start," said Arrowhawk, not bothering to hide his exasperation. "Ok, Dark Star, man with jetpack I've not met, pair up in the sky. Mongrel Angel, new kid, you pair up as Ground Team Two." Arrowhawk glanced in the direction of the new Midnight. Eh, he'll do. "Midnight, you're with me. We'll take the left, Team Two, take the right, air team... take the air?"
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Chris just raised an eyebrow and pulled a knife from his belt. Then stabbed himself in the arm. "I shrug off automatic weapons fire by healing it. Me? I'm like a little blood waterfall." He yanked it out and watched as the injury healed and smoothed over within a few seconds. "Tah-dah!" "But I guess if you want, we can go back to hit it until it falls down."
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Master Plan, if that suffices for planning (1d20+2=16)
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Arrowhawk nodded. "Sounds about right. Keep doors and windows covered, prevent anyone escaping. Dark Star's idea is sound." He took a deep breath in, then exhaled. "And prioritise targets. For example, stop Dr Simian before the Beekeeper. Dangerous villains need to stay locked up, even if it means we lose a couple of losers." "Keep near another at all times. You go solo, someone could slip past. Pairs or trios minimise that risk. And if you can scare large groups into falling back, through intimidation or displaying your powers, anything that saves you wasting time and effort fighting a mob, do it. We just need containment, not necessarily incapacitation. If you've got smokebombs or," he nodded at Midnight, "Some form of obscurant, use it. Disorientation will slow escapees down." "Any questions?"
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Geckoman pulled himself up onto the roof beside the team. "Idea: we lure the monsters away somehow, and make sure they don't get inside." He stroked his chin, deep in thought. "If they go after blood, maybe we grab some bags, empty them on ourselves then run... to the team we have situated away from the wards, at which point we fight with no risk to patients."
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Chris had gone to the fledgling HQ he and Liz were constructing, just to make sure she was OK. But now it was evening, there were things he wanted to find out. Landing the Pitchoo in the Claremont grounds, he wandered out in his jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the Raven logo. He headed towards Duncan Summers' office, hoping that he was in. This is... going to be an odd conversation. But I need to get some questions answered, or I'll be kicking myself. Cautiously, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. "Sir, are you in there?"
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Dropping from the roof in a flip and landing on my feet, I raise my gun. "I think you missed. Want to take another shot at it?" I snarl, with squeeze of the trigger. By the time I hit the firing pin, he'd dropped into a crouch and was spinning up with two fists in a rabbit punch. The blow connects with my face, cracking a tooth. Blood seeps into my mouth, briefly, before my healing staves off the pain. "You'll need to hit me harder," I warn, levelling my gun. "You can't dodge forever."
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Round Four Geckoman drops the Feint bomb, DC 23 to resist again! Assailant resisting feint, roll to hit, Assailant toughness (1d20+13=32, 1d20+10=17, 1d20+10=23) :? The assailant PAs for 5 with a punch... DC 24 punch to Geckoface, in offensive stance! (1d20+8=16, 1d20+7=24) WHY CAN NOONE HIT IN THIS THREAD! Fiat. Retry, and a different save for fairness' sake (1d20+8=18, 1d20+7=13) Add 10 to the initial roll for... 20. Critical hit. Gecks fails by 16 and is unconscious. So, spend my Fiat HP on a re-roll. Back to 2... DC 29, don't fail me! (1d20+7=25) A mere bruise.
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"C'mon, strong and silent," I taunt. "You get off, sneaking into people's homes and attacking them?" I flip in mid-air, planting my feet on the ceiling as I shoot at the guy's chest. Before my eyes, almost in slow motion, he moves out of the path of the bullet. I kid you not, the guy is fast. And then he was flows at me, hands stretched to grab. Almost too late to dodge, I crouch down... well, crouch up on the ceiling, his hands pass under the top of my head and I straighten again behind his back. All in a couple of seconds. My assailant is clearly a dangerous man.