Raveled

"Yeah, I've... I've got a little." She opened a gloved hand slowly, being careful not to use any of her power. The last thing she needed was to have an actual witch trail spring up around her. "I can do time stuff, yeah, and I can make myself go fast when I do it. I've never used it to go back in time, though. And I never... Never thought I'd be back this far." She sighed and looked around. Everyone on the street seemed too concerned with their own lives to spare more than a glance at the strangers in the strange clothes. "I don't even know if it's still Ramadan, for me. How does a liturgical calendar interact with time travel?"

That will hit the dino and burn out the radio reciever.

Kit's fingers brushed lightly against the creature's scaled skull. It shook off her touch, but her mental magics still pushed into its mind, filling the creature's brain with thoughts of acceptance and serenity and togetherness. The raptor paused for a moment in its attack and Tona paused, but a breath later the creature was snapping at her again. Kit felt her magic being fried and burned from the dinosaur's mind, walls of steel and lightning slamming into place around it. The archer continued to struggle under a couple hundred pounds of prehistorical predator.

Kit will go first! 23 --- Kit --- Uninjured --- HPx2 18 --- Dinosaur --- Uninjured --- GM 17 --- Blue Jay --- Uninjured --- HPx2 17 --- Cultist --- Uninjured --- Mook 17 --- Cultist --- Uninjured --- Mook 17 --- Cultist --- Uninjured --- Mook

Miras put her head in her hands as she tried to absorb it all. "All the way back to the... I can't believe it. I was worried about buying groceries while hungry, now I have to worry about bringing polio or tuberculous back?" She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. If she was in the far past she had to handle it the best she could, which meant focusing on the issue at hand. "And what do you mean we can't fix it? Richard, these Pilgrims are going to attack the natives, maybe wipe them out. Do you really think a bunch of American Indians are kidnapping kids? Going all the way into town and mutilating cattle for the hell of it?" She shook her head. "You might be okay with waiting for your wife to bring around the family time machine, but I'm not going to sleep well tonight knowing I could have stopped a native massacre and just walked away from it.

It's not a tie; the guy controlling the dinosaur rolled a 20 and got a result of 30. I'll give you that HP back, because there's just no way for Kit to actually beat him. Okay, it's Initiative time. Blue Jay: Results 1d20+15: 17 [1d20=2] Dinosaur: Results 1d20+8: 18 [1d20=10] Cultists x3: Results 1d20+2: 17 [1d20=15] Well, Jay will go before the Cultists, at least.

If it happens purely in a Vignette and not in a thread, there shouldn't be a problem

It's more about passing judgement/sentencing on a criminal. The PCs may investigate a crime, but a hero isn't going to pass a conviction and a sentence in the course of a story (though I suppose if a hero is a judge...). It's also an easy way to differentiate our definitely-don't-kill heroes with folks like the Punisher/Silencer who very much do kill; the latter are vigilantes. (It's notable that, in the world of Freedom City, there explicitly laws allowing this sort of extra-legal, costumed crimefighting as long as no one dies.)

Character Name: Black Vulture Power Level: 10 (162PP) Trade-Offs: None In Brief: Arrogant king of the Avians Alternate Identity: Vohl-Turr Identity: The general public is unaware that the Avians or Vohl-Turr exist. Birthplace: Atlas Mountains Occupation: King of the Avians Affiliations: Sky Clan, Cryptids Abilities: 6 + 10 + 8 + 2 + 0 + 8 = 34 PP Strength: 16 (+3) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 10 (+0) Charisma: 18 (+4) Combat: 8 + 12 = 20 PP Initiative: +9 Attack: +4 Melee, +4 Ranged, +10 Claws Grapple: +7 Defense: +10 (+6 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -5/-2 Saving Throws: 3 + 5 + 7 = 15 PP Toughness: +10/+4 (+4 Con, +6 Defensive Roll) Fortitude: +7 (+4 Con, +3) Reflex: +10 (+5 Dex, +5) Will: +7 (+0 Wis, +7) Skills: 56 R = 14 PP Acrobatics 12 (+17) Diplomacy 6 (+10) Intimidate 11 (+15) Language 1 (Avians) Notice 8 (+8) Sense Motive 8 (+8) Survival 10 (+10) Feats: 26 PP Acrobatic Bluff Animal Empathy Assessment Benefit (Ruler of Sky Clan) Challenge 2 (Fast Demoralize, Fast Startle) Defensive Attack Defensive Roll 3 Dodge Focus 4 Evasion Fascinate (Intimidate) Favored Environment (Aerial) Improved Initiative Leadership Move-By Attack Power Attack Redirect Set-up Startle Track (Visual) Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Powers: 2 + 9 + 20 + 3 + 21 = 55 PP Comprehend 2 (Animals, speak to & understand, Flaw: Limited [Birds]) [2 PP] Flight 5 (250 MPH, Drawback: Wings) (Avian Flight) [9 PP] Obscure 10 (Visual, Extra: Independent) (Clouded by Birds) [20 PP] Super-Senses 3 (Visual, Extended 2 [1000 ft increments], Low-Light Vision) (Eagle Vision) [3 PP] Winged Warrior Array 10 (20 PP, Feat: Alternate Power) [21 PP] BE: Damage 7 (Feats: Accurate 3, Mighty, Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Split Attack, Extra: Penetrating [6]) (Claws) [20/20] AP: Dazzle 10 (Visual, Extra: Area/Cone [General], Flaw: Range/Touch) (Wing Gust) [20/20] Drawbacks: (0) = -0 PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC18 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Claws Touch DC25 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Wing Gust Area/Cone DC20 Reflex/DC 20 Fortitude Blinded Obscure Ranged None Blinded Totals: Abilities (34) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (15) + Skills (14) + Feats (26) + Powers (55) - Drawbacks (0) = 164 Power Points

This is not as straightforward as Kit thinks it is. I'm going to need a Power Check from Kit on her Emotion Control. Results 1d20+10: 30 [1d20=20] ... Though it's not likely to work against that.

Player Name: Raveled Character Name: Critical Power Level: 8/10 (150/150 PP) Trade-Offs: +2 ATT/-2 DC Unspent Power Points: 0 Progress To Bronze Status: 0/30 In Brief: An alien experiment, roaming the wide cosmos in search of adventure and romance. Alternate Identity: Adam Frei, Adem, GELF D-52 Identity: Secret Birthplace: Space! Occupation: Adventurer Affiliations: None Family: Multiple other GELFs, all estranged Description: Age: 25 (DoB: September 1990) Gender: Male Ethnicity: Genetically Engineered Life Form Height: 5' 9" Weight: 170 lbs Eyes: Green/Changeable Hair: Green/Dirty blonde/Changeable Adem is a slim humanoid with green skin and short, dark fur all over his body, a thin, almost emaciated frame, large hands, and prehensile feet and tail. His face is round and he's usually smiling, and his green eyes always seem to be sparkling with a secret laugh. His suit is skintight, and darkly colored with stripes that compliment his fur color going up his limbs. Inlaid on the arms are the controls for the morphological induction grid, which can cloak him and his clothes in hard-light holograms, to let him blend into any situation. On one wrist he wears the silvery, angular form of a digi-vault, a useful tool that lets him carry his battlestaff wherever he is. On Earth, Adem usually moves around as Adam Frei, a slim man with pale skin, green eyes, and dirty blond hair left to grow long. His chin always seems to have a few days' stubble on it, enough to seem rugged without being unruly. He is always careful to wear clothes that blend into any social function he finds himself in while being more perfectly cut and tailored than anyone else's outfit. If at all possible, he goes barefoot. Power Descriptions: D-52 was designed to be an organism with enhanced luck. Happenstance goes in his direction, and he can apply subtle psychic pressure to force the odds to go against his enemies. In addition to that, all GELFs have enhanced physical abilities. Lastly, Critical is armed with an arsenal of tricks he's assembled, foremost among them is the Digi-vault that can summon his battlestaff from nowhere at all. History: Out in the wide, wide galaxy there are infinite tastes and almost anything is for sale. Lanistia has grown fat and wealthy from providing some of the highest-rated entertainment in the galaxy, but his wealth was always rooted in blood sport. Often decried in the Lor Republic but never actually banned, and widely popular in the Stellar Khanate before the rise of the Communion, Lanistia took people from all social levels, from all walks of life, and pitted them against each other and fearsome beasts and even exotic environments for the amusement and cheers of the crowds at home. A successful gladiator could make a lot of money, and gambling is no small part of it. Of course the house always has an edge, and Lanistia has his GELFs. While GELFs all start from the same genetic base, there's an intentional X-factor in their construction that leads each one to be subtly different. That, combined with careful management from Lanista's stable of bureaucrats, meant that any up-and-coming gladiator who refused to sign an (exploitative, lifelong) contract very quickly found themselves up against a fight that they could not win, and the house got another champion up their sleeve. Adem was born into this hard life as another one of Lanistia's vat-grown assassins. The young GELF was a disappointment at first, with no flashy gimmicks or obvious extraordinary abilities. What he did have was a natural charisma and an entertainer's sense of timing. As well, he proved able to handle threats far above his experience or apparent ability; he fought many nail-biter upsets that made Lanistia even richer. He found himself in the role of a favorite pet, feted but kept on a short leash. Adem chafed at this, like he chafed under any restriction, and he looked hard for a way out. In retrospect, it's not surprising that it came from a lucky break. Adem was being paraded about the Republic as part of Lanistia's push to other markets, visiting different worlds and speaking on behalf of Lanistia Enterprises (always with a handler in close proximity). He was at a party on a Lor space station; he picked up a cute Lor executive and the pair retired to her personal shuttle for some 'private talks.' He convinced her to undock the shuttle and set it orbiting the system's sun, and once she was asleep he piloted the spacecraft to a neutral spaceport. He made sure that the executive wasn't harmed and able to return to the station and LE's bureaucrats, but he wasn't about to go back to his old life of servitude. With a whole galaxy in front of him and a whole army of bounty hunters in his wake, Adem is always on the move. He never stays in one place long and always dives feet-first into the most exciting scene around. He's had quite a few exploits and it always on the look-out for the next. Personality & Motivation: Adem is a free-spirited individual, always focused on the moment and how he can wring maximum enjoyment from it rather than planning for the future. He's not malicious, he just prefers to enjoy what he has now rather than what he could have in the future. This includes flirting with just about any self-willed creature who enters his line of sight. Adem is a performer, and never happier then when he can show off his athleticism, his good looks, or his quick wit. If there is one thing Adem is truly passionate about, it is freedom and liberty. He has been a slave, been a commodity who only existed to fight and die at the pleasure of others; he cannot and will not sit by when those with power use it to crush or subdue others. Powers & Tactics: Adem is a performer and his fighting style shows it, with lots of flashy flips and glib jabs at his opponents. He'll normally pick the flashiest, or angriest, or simply the best-looking combatant around and engage them directly, with words as much as with his battlestaff. He usually doesn't hold a grudge in a fight, and is more than happy to end it on mutual, neutral terms. One thing that he doesn't do well, though, is running -- he claims that it "doesn't make a very good story for the hero to retreat!" Complications: Karmic Rubberband Adem has wildly varying luck. When things go right, they go very, very right, and when things go wrong it is spectacular. Wanted GELF Adem is a runaway slave from one of the richest men in the galaxy, and his genetics could grant preternatural luck to anyone. He always has to be on the lookout for people trying to capture him. Man on the Move Adam Frei has no fixed address, and relies upon the kindness of strangers to not be sleeping on the street. Not From This Planet Adem was born far, far away from Earth. Earth culture and Earth customs are strange to him; while he's assimilated well enough not to raise too much suspicion, he could still commit a faux pas. Green-skinned Alien Adem has an alien machine that helps disguise his non-human features, but if something happens to the disguise it would be very difficult for him to hide. Shiver Shiver Adem has no body fat; cold environments are even less pleasant for him than they would be other people. "I call it improvising!" Adem lives in the now, and that means he can go off a plan pretty easily. Abilities: 4 + 10 + 8 + 0 + 2 + 10 = 34 PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 20 (+5) Combat: 8 + 8 = 16 PP Initiative: +5 Attack: +4 Melee, +4 Ranged, +10 Battler Array Grapple: +5/+8 Defense: +8 (+4 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4 Saving Throws: 4 + 5 + 6 = 17 PP Toughness: +8 (+4 Con, +4 Defensive Roll) Fortitude: +8 (+4 Con, +4) Reflex: +10 (+5 Dex, +5) Will: +6 (+1 Wis, +6) Skills: 60 R = 15 PP Bluff 12 (+17) Diplomacy 10 (+15) Disguise 0 (+5/+20With Morph) Handle Animal 5 (+10) Medicine 5 (+5) Perform (Dance) 5 (+10) Notice 11 (+12) Sleight of Hand 12 (+15) Feats: 10 PP Ambidexterity Defensive Roll 2 Dodge Focus 4 Evasion Taunt Powers: 4 + 31 + 12 + 12 + 1 + 1 = 61 PP Additional Limb 3 (3; prehensile feet [2] & tail [1], Feat: Innate) [4 PP] Container (Genetic, Luck) (Born Lucky) [31 PP] Enhanced Skills 11 (Acrobatics 12 (+17), Escape Artist 12 (+17), Sense Motive 8 (+9), Stealth 12 (+17)) [11 PP] Enhanced Feats 2 (Acrobatic Bluff, Uncanny Dodge (Auditory)) [12 PP] Luck Control 2 (Give HP to others, force rerolls, Feats: Luck 2) (May the Odds...) [8 PP] Device 4 (20 PP, Easy to Lose) (Alien, Digital, Technology) (Battlestaff) [12 PP] Battler Array (12 PP, Feats: Accurate 3, Alternate Power 5) [20 PP] BE: Damage 4 (Extra: Autofire [6], Feats: Improved Critical, Mighty) (Multi-strike) [12/12] AP: Damage 4 (Extra: Area/Burst [Targeted], Feats: Improved Critical, Mighty) (Crowd Surfing) [12/12] AP: Damage 6 (Extra: Range/Ranged) (Blast) [12/12] AP: Damage 6 (Extra: Area/Cone [Targeted]) (Multi-blast) [12/12] AP: Dazzle 6 (Visual) (Eye Blast) [12/12] AP: Stun 6 (Head Strike) [12/12] Device 3 (15 PP, Hard to Lose) (Exploration Suit) [12 PP] Comprehend 3 (Understand & read all languages, speak and one language at a time) (Universal Translator) [6 PP] Dimensional Pocket 1 (100 lbs, Flaw: Feedback) (Digi-vault) [1 PP] Morph 3 (Any Humanoid, +15, Feats: Quick Change 2) (Morphological Induction Grid) [8 PP] Leap 1 (x2, move action) [1 PP] Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1 PP] Drawbacks: -3 = -3 PP Vulnerability (Cold, Moderate [DC x 0.5]) [-3 PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 17 Toughness Damage (Physical) Multi-Strike Touch DC 21+Autofire Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Crowd Surfing Touch (Burst, 20 ft radius) DC 21 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Blast Ranged DC 21 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Multi-blast Touch (Cone, 40 ft long) DC 21 Touhness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Eye Strike Ranged DC 16 Reflex/DC 16 Fortitude Blinded Head Strike Touch DC 16 Fortitude (Staged) Dazed/Stunned/Unconcious Totals: Abilities (34) + Combat (16) + Saving Throws (17) + Skills (15) + Feats (10) + Powers (61) - Drawbacks (3) = 150/150 Power Points

This is a build for my next PC, Critical. It's a take on the whole 'rougish space adventurer/romancer' archetype. I did my best to blend aspects of Longshot, Han Solo, and the movie version of Star Lord. Please take a look and let me know what you think about him.

Miras sat on a bench next to Richard, watching the life of the town around her dumbly. She had pushed back the cowl of her robe, but she was still in floor-length green; turning back into her street clothes would likely attract even more attention. She was having a hard time absorbing the fact that she was two-hundred-years-and-change in the past, in a Freedom that wasn't a City yet. She distantly toyed with the idea of running down to Pennsylvania to meet George Washington or up to Boston to see Benjamin Franklin, but she felt like she had to approach the idea carefully. If she totally dove into the implications of being in the past, she might just have a breakdown. Richard's words shook her out of her reverie. "You're being pretty blase about this," she pointed out. "Aren't you surprised at finding yourself in Ye Olde Colonial Times? I did not wake up today expecting to be pushed back to a time before the invention of the steam engine!"

"Greg would never go for something like that," Anne said quickly. "He thought all that sort of talk about herbal tea and such was flowery nonsense. He never had much truck with, you know. New Age-y sort of thinking. But." Anne reached out and turned the coffee cup around, still not picking it up. "Taylor's attacks have been getting worse the last few years. It used to be he only needed the inhaler once or twice a month, now it's a few times a week. Sometimes twice a day. I found Greg one night looking up doctors on the other side of the country, but we could never afford that sort of thing." Asli caught Joe's eye and rose an eyebrow. Money problems could drive people to do crazy things. She reached out and touched Anne's hand gently. "Anne, I know how medical bills can pile up. Did maybe Greg talk to someone he shouldn't have? Gone to a loan shark, to get money for treatments?" Anne looked at the other woman, her expression wide and shocked. "No, no! Greg would never have done anything like that! I mean, I'm sure he would've gone to the union before going to a criminal!" Asli sat back and didn't say anything, but she caught Joe's eye. Some men would do anything if it meant their family didn't want for something, and some men would rather die than ask for help.

"Witches? Salem? Eighty years? Richard, are you telling me we're in the..." She broke off and tried to remember disjointed details about a part of American history that had never affected her before, when they rounded a bend and saw the city laid out before them. Her jaw dropped as she took it in, the wooden palisade near the harbor, the brick-and-timber buildings that rarely rose more than two stories off the street level, the smoking chimneys everywhere, the herds of animals being driven through the streets, and the smell and sounds and sights of tens of thousands of people living without the benefits of automation or computers. The group traveled down to the city proper, individual riders peeling off here and there to stop at individual stables or go off to their own homes and their own errands. Before long they were just left with the steel-eyed rider and the mouthy one; they drew up at a tall house with a clear view of the bay and the tall clipper ships in the harbor. The older rider dismounted and handed the reins to the younger one. "Temperance, take the horses around and see that they're watered and fed. Then you may join us inside." The boy rode off obediently and the man addressed them both. "You can call me Charity Moore. I know not what you need from this town, but as a Christian man I cannot in good conscience leave you out on the street. If you have need of it, there is a bed for each of you in my home."

Asthma and allergies. A lot of tough-guy talk about "need to get the kid out and rub some dirt in his face" and "in my day if you sneezed a bunch you just wiped your nose," but it sounds like it could be pretty serious.

The cultists looked uneasy; the blonde woman licked her lips and glanced around at her fellows, but they were all looking to her for leadership. "Okay, we warned you!" They opened fire, their stubby SMGs lighting the room in bright strobes and tossing spent shells aside. The hostages, kneeling on the ground, screamed and threw themselves to the floor, cowering and sheltering under their arms. The dinosaur rose from its crouch and jumped up on a table; it flicked its tail back and forth lazily, but it didn't seem perturbed by the gunfire. At a motion from Tona, Sam hauled open the door and left a clear firing line. The archer pulled her arm back, a bow of brilliant blue energy manifesting and an arrow growing out of it to rest near her ear. In a moment, she had drawn and loosed a half-dozen cerulean shafts down the car. They struck the cultist way in the back who still had the radio clipped to his belt. He went down, bowled over by the kinetic force of the arrows, and Tona paused for a moment. The dinosaur turned to look at her, and she barely had a moment to consider her options before it charged. The creature opened its mouth and let loose an ear-splitting shriek as it crossed the distance, leaping the last several meters to land full-body on the archer. She rolled with the impact and ended up on her back, the dinosaur standing over her and snapping at her with its tooth-filled maw. "Sam!" Tona grunted as she kept its snout and clawed hands back with main strength. "It didn't work!"

The mooks shoot at the Illusion and get another chance to save at it, with a +1; they'll still take a 10 and get 12, so they don't pass. Jay will use Volley Fire and take 10 to hit, making it and doing max Autofire damage for a DC 25 Toughness; the radio mook takes 10 on its Toughness and gets 14, so he's down. Dinosaur does not go down and will go after Jay since she's in front. Results 1d20+10: 14 [1d20=4] Doesn't hit.

Everyone in Bedlam must be PL 7. It's the law.

Power is out at my house. It should be back by tonight, but until then recharging and data is at a premium.

Tona's smile was fierce and small, and the gems in her bracers glowed blue in anticipation. She flexed her fingers and shook out her hands, rising from her crouch to a more ready position. "I can take out any of them," she said. She stood in front of the door in a pose almost like a runner, and waited for Sam's signal. In the dining car, the cultists continued tracking the creature as it floated all about the room. "If you don't care about us, what are you doing here," Blonde demanded. "We didn't do anything to antagonize you. If you don't have a problem with Doctor Rex, then get out here. Otherwise, we're going to see how well you deal with some bullets!" She gestured sharply with her weapon and the rest of them followed suit.

The horse riders shuffled unquietly, their weapons pointed at no one in particular, obviously ill at ease. They were tense and wanted to blame someone, but neither of these people before them was doing anything to provoke them, and they weren't quite ready to attack innocent travelers. Finally, the steel ride spoke. "We'll walk you back into town," he said finally. "These woods are not as safe as they used to be. Come along." Before long the group was riding through the forest, Miras and Fast-Forward hemmed in by the animals and the narrow path they were walking through the forest. Miras kept shooting glances out from under the cowl of her hood, taking in the antiquated clothes and the fearful glances at the treeline; she was sure that she could run if push came to shove, but she didn't know where she would be running to. "Richard," she whispered, "what the hell is going on? Who are these people? How did that bomb land us in a freaking museum piece? Where are we?"

But most of the time you're not going to be attacking immobile targets.

The cultists responded with remarkable discipline considering, bringing their guns up with a minimum of fumbling. Four gun barrels tracked the specter as it floated near the ceiling. The cultist in front, a woman with dark hair but in a bob, spoke up. "Who the hell do you think you are," she demanded. "Are you some kind of cape? We'll hurt these people if we have to!" The cultist in the back dropped his weapon on its sling and pulled out a hand radio, speaking into it. Tona swore; her mask and the built-in radio receiver were back in the cabin, so she couldn't listen in. As they watched, though, the dinosaur raised its head and blinked lazily. It slowly stood on scaly legs, a brightly-colored crest of gaudy feathers rising on its head like a mohawk. The archer narrowed sharp eyes at the creature, and after a moment she nudged Sam and pointed out what looked like a stubby radio antennae protruding from the back of the creature's skull.

Okay, Kit's Illusions has a DC 16 Save. Since these are mooks, they'll take 10 on the save and not pass it. They believe the Illusion is real, but now they're ready for things to come through that door. Kit gets a HP.