Ecalsneerg
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Round Two, Continued Forgot to mention Gecks healed already. The assailant tries to Startle as a move action. Startle; Resist! (1d20+13=33, 1d20+5=20) And... facepunching... DC 24 Toughness save (1d20+6=10, 1d20+7=18) HAH! Round Three Retaliatory feint + shot! DC 23 feint by default, Resist, shoot, DC 19[21 with feint] (1d20+12=29, 1d20+10=23, 1d20+10=12) So... fail to feint, then miss. Grapple! Roll to hit; assailant grapple; Geckograpple; damage if hits desk is DC 18 (1d20+11=18, 1d20+15=18, 1d20+10=20, 1d20+7=17) He misses by 1!
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I crash off my stool, landing sprawled on my face against the hard, wooden floor. Behind me, it finally registers that my window has shattered, as a dark shape flows through it, kicking my stove, and with it my source of light. Springing to my feet with a surge of anger, I find my .44 Smith & Wesson Model 29 revolver in my hand. Yes, the gun from Dirty Harry. I thought it was cool. Yet I digress. Squeezing the trigger even as I find my feet, the shot goes wide. Despite apparently having scaled a rooftop, shot me then swung across and in my window, the attacker doesn't look warm. Or fazed by my awful aim.
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Ok, so Geckoman shot from behind... DC 22 hit, he gets 15. Bruised + Stunned, knocked on his stomach. Geckonitiative, assailant (1d20+9=20, 1d20+9=18) Round One Geckoman lies down for some time, in pain. Assailant swings through window and removes flame, i.e. source of light. Round Two Geckoman stands up, draws .44 Smith & Wesson Model 29 revolver, shoots at assailant. Gets a 10. Assailant is not a bystander.
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"Whoa. Whooooa. Whoooah!" protested Chris, trying to pull free. "I didn't know. Honest." He called pleadingly towards the clacking at the computer screens visible as faintly glowing in the dim warehouse. "Bull. Chris, you know how tough my life's been. My parents split up. I did a spell in young offender's. Then, I meet you, and you actually like me. You were this sweet, charming guy, and I think 'Hey, he actually likes me!'" Spellbound got up, turned and walked over. "Turns out it was all some sick game." "Why do it, huh? Why act like a superhero while simultaneously playing around with someone's life!? " "I... I didn't," whispered Chris. Only now does my timing sink in. Fantastic. If I could pick a worse moment to swoop in and have a superhero origin, I'd... actually, I don't know what's worse. "It's all just chance." "That's not even plausible," hissed Liz. "Can't even concoct a real lie." Oh, damn my coincidental life.
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The crowd were going completely nuts. After a while of getting rammed into the front, Chris just shrugged, nodded and Liz and the two of them dived into the mosh pit. It was a raucous, but harmless affair, people here for a good time rather than violence. Nonetheless, Chris was glad he healed so fast, good humour or not, some of the slamming hurt like hell.
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"Oooh, swish," said Chris, wandering up to a nearby waitress with a smile on his face. "Scuse me, ma'am, but I wonder if you have a table for one. Just in the city on business, heard some good things about a new restaurant and came to check it out."He tipped his hat to the woman. "Seems good so far, although I'll pass judgement after a snack." He widened his grin.
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"Thanks," said Arrowhawk, not glancing to the side. "I studied your predecessor's methods when I first started out." He reached into his quiver and pulled out his bow. "I figure we need to prioritise the high-security wing. Much as it pains me, we might not stop them all, and I'd rather round up the minor-league creeps." Then Scarab was in his mind again. Elena, you know I don't like the whole mind-speak thing. Thanks for the offer, but I hope most of the cells here are intact enough for use.
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The Pitchoo swung down towards the hospital, landing on the lawn with the walkway already down and Geckoman running out of it.. "Anyone and everyone left out here, get them inside!" He turned and sniffed the air. "They're coming, if Atlas' broadcast was right." It was the reek of blood. He kept running towards the hospital.
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Geckonitiative (1d20+10=21)
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Arrowhawk's bike screeched across the city, jumping off ramps, roaring around corners and plowing through crowds. I can't believe this. Atlas? Gone rogue? He clutched the folder he'd picked up under his arm. I need to find 10 seconds to re-read this... Christ, I don't have 10 seconds! Spinning in a cloud of smoke to a halt outside Blackstone, he slid the folder into his bike as he pulled an assortment of arrows into his quiver. Put down the riot, formulate a plan, stop Atlas. Sometimes it gets interesting. His eyes narrowed as he ran towards the gates.
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Arrow'd! (1d20+9=29)
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"Yeah, sure," said Chris, waving her off, then pulling a baseball cap onto his head and strolling out onto the street. "Now... to Mark's." As he walked to the restaurant, he surreptitously pulled a couple of Geckorangs out of his belt and slid them into his trouser pockets. Quicker access, dontchaknow. Walking in the front door, he stood and looked around the bar.
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By the time I get to my apartment, I'm just ever so slightly damp and soggy. Freezing cold, I open the door and stroll in to find that, quelle surprise, the heating has died. Again. This has happened so often that I have a camping stove in the corner for these occasions. My landlord wouldn't be happy I was making fires, but I'm not happy that he can't get the heating fixed. Sure, many homes still lack amenities, but heating isn't one. That got prioritised during rebuilding. Sitting on a stool next to it, I have to wonder who killed Fear-Master. Frankly, there just aren't that many people in Freedom City, and none skilled enough to casually kill a supervillain. He'd had no noticeable wounds on his body, that takes some skill. Of course, this period of thought was disrupted by something hard hitting me in the back of the head and pitching me towards the fire.
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Following on from Life Is A Rollercoaster, Gecks has 4 HP. 5, when you factor in the No Save Nullify.
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Chris woke up in a dark warehouse to the sound of keys clattering on a keyboard. He couldn't see, but by the feel of it, he was tied to a chair with thick ropes. Damn... her father's a stage magician... I'm guessing she knows how to tie ropes. "Liz!" he shouted. "Get the hell out here!" He railed against the ropes, but to no avail. Wait... why can't I see ijn the dark anymore? My powers aren't working. I can see in the dark, why can't I now? "What the hell are you doing being a supervillain?!" "Currently..." Her voice came from the sound of clacking keys. "Setting up your little friends with a robot. Had it running around since last night. Nifty, huh? See!" "This is Geckoman. There's this robbery in progress, requesting back-up at my current position. Hostages have been taken. Someone get down here!" It was a perfect recreation of his voice. "Why, Chris? Why did you decide to mess with me like this?" Then it struck him. She actually thought it had been deliberate, that he was just tormenting her. Well... crap.
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Geckoman nodded to James, strolling over to where he'd landed the Pitchoo and popping the walkway down. He signalled for people to board with one hand while dialling with the other on his cellphone. "Hey, Kenzie, what's up?" came Liz's voice distractedly from the end of the phone. "Are you OK? Has anything happened? Where are you?" Chris said quickly, concern in his voice. "Burnt my goddamn hand on my soldering iron," came the reply. "I'm in my workshop, trying to get this bloody mainframe constructed. You owe me." Chris breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Ok, we'll talk later. Today's been odd. Love you," he said, before hanging up. "OK, anyone still need a ride to Claremont? Cos I got stuff to go do."
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Chris rubbed at his face. It felt normal. Resisting the urge to celebrate in spite of his friend's grief, he instead replaced his mask and goggles. "That's better," he said quietly. It felt good to be back to 'normal'. "Mark... Jeez, I'm sorry man. We didn't mean for him to... I mean, we wanted it to end, but not like..." Sentences were struggling to form properly. "Is there any way we could get your dad back?" He wasn't sure he meant the last part. After all... what the man had done...
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Chris pulled Liz through the teeming crowds, steering past people deftly and just barging past when need be. "Come ooooon..." He felt her lagging behind, and slowed so she could catch up. "I promised Eddie we'd get to the front!" He tugged on his black trilby anxiously. "They're the next guys oooon." "Kenzie, it's your fault we're late," sighed Liz, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. In accordance with the occasion, she'd dresseds in black jeans and boots, along with a white tanktop and purple streak in her hair. "Do I need to remind you who was busy uploading all their music into the computer?" Meanwhile, Chris had not gone with general vibe and was wearing a mismatched combination of muddy blue jeans, a Freedom City Comets t-shirt and a black trilby (with his Geckoman costume underneath). "I needs my Paramore when I'm working, Liz, you know that! Don't judge me!" He tugged on her arm. "Please." Liz again sighed, running her hands through her hair and then shoving them forwards through the crowd once more. "Remind me again why we date?" Chris pretended to think on this for a while before pulling out a pair of aviators and putting them on. "Style. Yeeeeah."
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"I got a commlink and a cellphone," said Geckoman, tucking his utility belt under his shirt. "I'd rather you used a commlink, although I suppose a cell'l do in a pinch." He frowned. "Mind you, I've only got enough commlink for me, so if you lack one, you're just going to need to ring me should something go wrong. Which it won't. Touch wood. I hope."
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"OK, then here's the plan," said Chris, pulling a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt on top of his costume. "I'm going to go in, sniff around the main bar and restaurant." He pulled a FC Comets jacket on top of that. "You go in the back, look around the kitchen. Poisons, drugs, illegal activity, that sort of thing." He started moving to come down some distance from the bar in an alleyway. "We'll need to walk there to keep up the deception, but before we do: anything you think needs changed in the plan?"
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Dropping the Disguise idea. Different clothes, not actually disguised.
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quote, can Chris take Liz or would that overcomplicate the combat? (Although, assuming she's no longer carrying her supervillain load-out....)
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"Ok, I figure we should try to get in, investigate the food, maybe get some samples," mused Geckoman, scratching his chin as he finished up his noodles. "Then perform an in-depth chemical analysis. Look into the management." "So, you wanna sneak in the back door or dress up fancy and walk in the front?" asked Geckoman with a grin.
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"There are some things EMP can effect. And for everything else, there's explosives," said Arrowhawk off-handedly. "You know what I mean," he continued with an edge in his voice. "OK, that's it. Whatever happens, I get Malice or Knieval, both if possible. Someone else focus on that robot, I don't have a grudge with that thing," snarled the archer, teeth visible in the shadows under his hood. "They're the real threat, and I've fought them both more than you."
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Add the following Complication to Arrowhawk's sheet: Enemy (Captain Knieval, Malice): Multiple run-ins with these two villains have led to a deep-set grudge against them. Arrowhawk will drop anything to pursue them if he possibly can. DONE BY SHAENTHEBRAIN