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Supercape

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  1. Either / Or works! WIth that knowledge roll ill post IC accordingly; you may recognise a few faces of criminals (ex and current) and cops (ex and current). You also know that "Bad Beat" is what you might call "Switzerland", where cops and crooks can drop off their normal profession and the door and just behave like normal people. Doesn't always work, but thats the unofficial rule. Anything else comes up, ill bear that streetwise roll in mind!
  2. Notice: 1d20+12 26 Shall I wait to post IC until result of that?
  3. GM "They sure are" smiled Dick, full of warmth. He had taken over this joint after it was burned down, along with some of his friends as co investors. There were a fair few ex-cops here, some of whom had actually developed freindship with ex-criminals who also frequented the joint. Dick was an ex cop himself, and between his experience on the streets and in the Bad Beat, he knew a lot of rumours. "I'm Dick. Dick Young" he said, offering his hand to Caroline. "Always nice to see some young folks in here. Most of us have gout and arthritis!" he winked, and his friends grunted their empathy with both conditions. "You came on a good night, Caroline. Now, the Bad Beat always got taste in music, but tonight you got jackpot!" he said, pausing to applause as the band finished another number. "You a Jazz fan or you just come here to drink?" he asked.
  4. Ok, you dodged the rubble! Dust Devil - 3 HP VMX - 1 HP Please feel free to post IC your escape, and also plot where do you go from here. I think its drawing to a close so at this point its largely loose end tying - we can say Dust Devil knows the Mesa well enough to traverse back to "normal" time. Any thoughts on what you would like to end on, please sing out - including, if so inclined, follow ups.
  5. GM Brapadapadum pdum tish! finished the band in a lazy paradiddle movement. There was polite applause, some of it even genuine, but few if any took their eyes of the cards. "Weeerrr going to take a quick break fffolks!" smiled Amber to the crowd giving them a wave. She staggered off in high heels and alcohol, which combined made her most unsteady. The band followed, and didn't look entirely sober themselves (although they had, at least, normal heels). The backstage was just to the left of the stage. It was not, as far as Robin could see, unguarded, but it was somewhat exposed. There might, of course, be other ways in - the kitchens? the fire escape? the ventilation system?
  6. Lament Spooky! Wait!....it might literally by spooky! Is this castle a ghost? Or am I??? Lament let these interesting speculations circle and stew in his head as he wandered the castle. A suit of ancient armour here, a rusted pike there. He quite fancied the look of the pair of rapiers above the throne, but kept with his stage machete hanging by his belt. He could not turn off the part of his brain that pondered new ideas for new shows. Zombo and the Zombie King! Zombo...and the Throne of Games! Ok, he hadn't quite worked the last one out, but he vaguely imagined a throne made out of board games and the like. What he really needed, however, was a clue!!!
  7. GM Setho was splayed out, bruised, battered and broken. His chant had stopped and he could barely speak let alone crawl. "I have seen beyond time and space, to the spinning chaos at the centre of it all, where blind and mad Gods cavort to tuneless pipes" he hissed. "And through it all, the Unspeakable One! This is his temple, and it too resides beyond your vision, beyond anything you can comprehend!" Large chunkes of rubble started falling, and the walls started collapsing. "You will see! You will ssssseeee!" proclaimed one last hiss of Setho, before he was buried under a heap of rubble, enough to crush and splinter any mortal flesh. Enough to sunder and slash any mortal flesh. And the same was about to happen to Venomax and the Dust Devil! The temple was collapsing around them!
  8. Collapsing building alert! Damage 10 effect, although you may make a DC 20 Reflex Save to avoid that!
  9. GM "Morgen" muttered Revd Root, frowning. "A lost soul, isn't she. I'm not Catholic, but still, there is a touch of something evil in her. Poor Morgen" he shook his head. "I hope she finds peace. I hope she finds redemention" He paused, uncertain of how much to say. "I tried to guide her. Gently. But she would have none of it. She is a stubborn one!" he added, with a little smile. "I let her have use of the ruined church. It seemed to suit her, and I hope its presence might...guide her" he sent, gently. He sipped his tea. "Lot of folks round here have been seeing ghosts, or feeling perturbed. Rumours, maybe. Still, some say its Morgen. Would you happen to know whats going on? Do you know her?"
  10. GM "You seduce her? I think it might be the other way around, if you like women" said Winchester without a flick of an eyebrow. "I think it might be you who needs to be careful" And later, at the Bad Beat... Winchester had covered the cost of entry. The Bad Beat was underground, and its ventilation systems strained. It was not well furbished, in fact, it looked rather shabby, but it had a charm. If one looked carefully, you could see the evidence of old smoke damage on the walls. A high tempo experimental jazz band was playing, and playing well. The audience was small today, but they were enthusiastic, having clearly found a high calibre three piece band who were as yet unknown. Jette could see the pleased smile of the owner, Dick Young, an elderly black man with grey hair and a friendly face, who was tapping his foot excitedly to the beat with a couple of his elderly friends. And over to the side, the "Floozy", a beautiful cat like blonde, acting drunk, and looking adoringly into the eyes of some heavy set man with a boxers nose who looked suspiciously like a crook. Partly because two bodyguards were keeping a close eye on him from across the floor.
  11. So given Jette's respectable skills and profession, she can easily find out the Bad Beat is a Jazz club run by a retired cop, DIck young (and his pet cat, Old Pussy). It was nearly burned to the ground over a year ago, by a vigilante called the Burner (who wont be appearing in this thread so its incidental). It used to be run by crime, but Dick has turned it into a more musical venue, although it still has some old school criminals turning up (but behaving, for the most part, well). If you want any further information, post it here with Gather Info or Knowledge rolls (Pop culture or Streetwise, I guess).
  12. Unless anyone objects ( @Tiffany Korta and @Thevshi) I suggest a scene cut to the docks? Ill presume Cho and Wu tag along although if you want them to not, let me know! (Cho will happily stay at the club, although Wu would like to tag)
  13. Supercape

    Zip Zap

    GM "Ah, who has not heard of Henrietta Getrude Wells?" replied Zip. "Only damn woman they let into the Institute of Metaphysical Engineering, and smarter than the lot of them. She developed, in this dimension, a machine that could traverse dimensions" he said. "Thats when the Ministry of Extraordinary affairs stepped in. It deals with all...ah....extraordinary affairs" he explained, not very eloquently. "Look, I don't come from this dimension. Its silly. I mean, steam powered zepplins with difference engines coordinating their gatling guns? silly silly silly!" he said, petunlantly. "So I don't know everything" he conceded, vexed at the reality. "But the ministry make sure she is on a tight leash. They don't want any trans dimensional hopping without them knowing"
  14. Supercape

    W.E.S.T

    W.E.S.T (World Exotic Science Taskforce) OOC Background After the last decade has seen a number of potentially world-threatening events from dimensional anomalies like the Terminus, to viral plagues like the Darwin-X virus, the United Nations decided that merely responding to these events was not enough. Instead, threats needed to be actively investigated before they exploded onto the face of the world. UNISON deals with super powered threats, whilst the world health organization (W.H.O) deals with threats to the world like pandemics. These two organisations are the model for the World Exotic Science Taskforce. Operation WEST operates under the umbrella of the United Nations. It is a small operation, but well-funded – on the basis that potential threats are relatively small, but need expert analysis. WEST is tasked with risk-threat analysis of any scientific anomalies or potential risks from cutting edge technology. Small scale local threats are not a priority, whilst threats that may cause widespread harm are. As such, WEST has links with a vast number of organisations – in particular UNISON and the WHO, but also international scientific communities, political groups (such as the EU), and individual countries. A particular difficulty is related to security clearance. WEST personnel have to be cleared by a number of intelligence agencies, and of course many would like to exploit any findings that WEST uncover. In short, WEST is someone hamstrung by politics. WEST has about thirty agents, and double that number of support staff (from pilots to administrators, law experts, and even cleaners) all who have security clearance from a number of intelligence agencies. Aside from its regular staff, it has a number of “consultants” who have clearance, such as experts in particular areas of science, explorers, physicians, and even super-heroes (particularly those with scientific backgrounds or super powers which might be particularly helpful). WESTs data is usually rather sensitive, but open to any official of United Nations member states. Its computers are DC 25 to crack. However, it also has a “Black Book” of data that is considered highly sensitive and open to only WEST operatives, the President of the United Nations, and heads of state, that is considered maximum security (DC 40). EAST (Headquarters) WEST have small offices in major world centres (Freedom City, next to ASTRO labs, London, Delhi, Bejing, and so on) staffed by one or two local agents and support staff. The ASTRO labs office is the largest, double the size of the others. However, its main base of operation is Rapa Nui, Easter Island. This was chosen for its remote location. If anything goes wrong there, casualties are minimised. Whilst not exactly happy with the risks, the United Nations pays the locals a large and welcome subsidy for the risk, which is bringing considerable affluence to the tiny island. EAST (short for Easter Island) is the headquarters of WEST, which is a rather tired joke but also has served as a counter any accusations that WEST is a purely western organisation. The HORIZON (Plane) WEST of course has access to planes, submarines, and automobiles – both its own and often via assistance from other agencies. However, its pride and joy is the HORIZON, a modified cutting edge jumbo jet packed full of sensors, laboratories, and communication equipment. The Horizon is not a military vessel, but you would be hard pressed to find a better scientific vehicle. STAFF W.E.S.T have a list of individuals they work with, who have scientific or other useful skills. This includes a number of super heroes around the world. They also sub-contract out other specialists around the world, working closely with UNISON and the W.H.O (as well as other arms of the United Nations), or even military, paramilitary and investigative organisations. Beyond that, they have a number of “consultants”, who have full W.E.S.T clearance. This is a complicated process as it requires all members of the united nations to approve security clearance. This allows the individual, in principle, access to the W.E.S.T data bases and resources (although under supervision and agreement from W.E.S.T). This is a benefit 1, as it allows significant resources to the individual. Director Norris North Doctor Norris North is original a medical doctor, specialising in virology. He worked in medicine sans frontier and then moved to the World Health Organisation. He is recognised as a very experienced and capable man, with as much skill in diplomacy as he has in science. When W.E.S.T formed he was head hunted for the director role. He is a softly spoken man in his early fifties, divorced and without children. He tends to wear smart casual clothes, wears glasses and sports as moustache. He is committed but not obsessed with his role, and is generally very friendly to super heroes who, in his mind, have an essential part to play in protecting the Earth from scientific threats. WEST Field Agent WEST Field agents are essentially field scientists. They usually have some specialist scientific background, and a broad basic scientific training. Given the nature of their work they are expected to be adaptable, and have some basic diplomatic skill. Whilst they are given basic combat training, they are not expected to fight unless the situation absolutely requires it – they are there to detect, understand, and neutralise scientific threats (in that order) but that normally means utilising other resources and scientific knowhow rather than going in with guns blazing. WEST Equipment W.E.S.T is a well equipped organisation and can be expected to have access to equipment as required. There are three particular devices that agents often use: WEST Hand Scanner The WEST Hand scanner looks like a small box that would be held by a 1960s sci fi show about trekking across the stars. It detects a variety of energy signatures that can be analysed. It is the main tool of W.E.S.T field agents. WEST Blaster Only used in last resort situations, and only carried when there is a risk to agents, this is a handgun sized energy weapon that can neutralise energy signatures. WEST Exploration Suit This silver suit is environmentally sealed and carries a 6 hour oxygen tank on its back. Its helmet is reinforced glass and comes equipped with allows visual and auditory input in a variety of spectrum, as well as a short wave radio. This is the standard suit when exploring hazardous areas (including other dimensions!)
  15. Lament Now thats a castle! Full of fairy tales and beheadings and regal debauchery! the reflexive part of Luther's brain started wondering about how he could put on a show here...full of spooky ghosts and voodoo zombies. Yes! What a splendid backdrop! He was not sure if he should look here or move on. But the decision was made as he started thinking about it for the purposes of a future show. He had to check it out! The angles! The lighting! Yes there was the matter of regal tears and kidnapped children, of course, but whilst he was here, it wouldn't hurt to have a little think! In any case, he better take off those boots before he launched himself into a pike or something. He carefully pulled the shoes off and wiggled his toes. Barefoot and bold, Lament entered the castle...
  16. GM Politeness was not a universal currency in such places, but it certainly did no harm. With a flick of an eyebrow, Robin was beckoned in. She got a pat down - rather cursory, even lazy - but the Justice buster was sufficiently small and concealed to avoid detection. Given the look of the place inside there was probably more than one handgun in the joint. Probably more than a dozen, to be more accurate. People were playing cards left right and centre, with others just drinking whiskey or vodka. There was a smell of ingrained nicotine and spilled alcohol. Amber was singing along with a bass, drums, and keyboard. They looked rather bored, or even lazy, but they could play reasonably well, to the occassional polite applause. Amber was probably thirty years old, and looked ten years older. Her hair and makeup looked like she had done them herself, whilst drunk. And drunk she was. Her hair was however a lovely rich red, and her eyes dark and smokey. She had a kind of beauty that was treading with determination towards premature ruin. Her voice was fairly skilled, but again with a rasp and slur of heavy drinking. All in all she had a certain charm, in that devil may care attitude, but she looked, underneath, scared and empty.
  17. For the pat down, could you throw me a sleight of hand check vs the bouncer who takes 10 to get 10 on his search roll.
  18. Snakebite Cassie did not really think running was an option. "If we run, we will get picked off. The beast is faster than any of us" she said, firmly. "Unless we hold our ground, we are doomed. I understand the temptation, but that's the flush of fear. No, say I. Use that fear to defend. Or even to attack. We have a fighting chance here! Do any of you think that a long journey will lead to anything but disaster?" She did not wait for an answer. "If any of you believe in Gods or Magic, then know this. I think I know a way to defeat the beast. It comes from ancient times, from a moon Goddess. From a ceremony incomplete. If I can finish the ceremony, I can finish the beast..." I hope. "I know you may not believe in such tales, but what you are facing is no tiger or snake. You saw it with your own eyes. This is something else. We must hold it off with guns and machete's. Even our bare hands" she explained, boldly. "But to kill it, that requires something else. To fight sorcery with sorcery!"
  19. Sgt Shark That was satisfying...gloriously satisfying! And here was the conflict in the Sergeants brain. The military man, disciplined and professional, and the mutated part of his brain, deep in the limbic system, that abided no such hypocracy. It was this primitive area, linked to his olfactory system, then came alive with the pleasure of blood. The taste! He gorged himself on the smell, for it was joyous, and distracted him from what he thought was the hideous allure of the Sea Devils scent. What a disgusting creature...but the smell! THE SMELL! It must be pheromones, said his cortex. But the pleasure centres of his primitive brain lit up like a christmas tree. He did not trust himself to speak. Something odd might come out. Instead, he clamped his jaw tight and swam down, trying not to get too close to the pleasure incarnate that was Sea Devil.
  20. GM Setho was being pinned down by Venomax, and was battered. He had clearly underestimated the combined strength of Venomax and the Dust Devil. But he was not paying attention. Instead, his eyes had rolled to the back of his head. They were black still, but vacant and blind. He was muttering some foul ancient Language that was beyond comprehension (or quite possibly, sanity), and his body was both stiff and paralytic, as if in the grip of some rigid seizure. One could not understand his language, but it appeared to be a chant, with similar phrases turning over and over again in his reptillian tongue. And the ancient temple seemed to respond. Yellow lights, yellow eyes, yellow mist oozed through the temple, giving an unnatural chill that did not, impossibly, diminish the unnatural heat of the place. Cracks. Groans. Falling dust. Growing louder. The temple was about to collapse and bury them all!
  21. Lament Seven leagues with every step! Verily, the boots are named well, for they doth do what it says on the tin! He was not sure about the shade of Gold - not with the black. He would have gone a little brighter. A little more tinkle. But, one could not complain. He looked down and felt giddy, but maintained his composure - at least on the outside (which, when it came to it, was all that mattered, darlings!) lights and laughter, engines and words. He couldn't make sense of any of it, but at least it gave him some existential orientation rather than being lost in some ethereal burning world. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how he was doing it. But he kept bounding forward all the same...
  22. GM Winchester did not like rules. More precisely, he did not like rules being dictated to him - for he surely liked dictating rules to others. He bristled when Caroline clarified the situation, but he was in a jam, and he knew it. He pretty much knew that Caroline knew it too, but damned if he was going to show it. "Fine. I'm hiring you for information. The End" he said, bluntly. "As to where I found you? Information is my business. American Data Management. Sometimes we need information that we can't get leg-I mean, through regular channels. I've got contacts all over the city, and beyond. You got a reputation. Not a great reputation, but a specific one. Competent, it seems" he said. "Don't make me wrong about that" he said, standing up and gathering my coat. "I can survive the expose. But it will sting, and sting badly. And I don't like getting stung". It wasn't precisely a threat, but it wasn't far off either. Winchester was a mix of emotions - frustrated, angry, even anxious. But above all he was driven and determined.
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