Supercape

Sgt Shark. Yes please!

I hope that scene cut was ok. Let me know if not ??

GM And so... The air was bitter and cold, but had a beautiful crisp quality to it. The night grew dark, in a manner of speaking, for Replica and Synapse were treated to an impressive display of northern lights. It was about an hour walk to the nearest main road, which ran west-east, and, from the maps, would reach the Russian border about thirty miles away. Despite the cold, the survival clothing kept Synapse warm enough along with the march, although anybody in such situation would surely appreciate a hot bath and hot bowl of soup. It was less than a minute before the pair saw a pair of beam lights approaching from the east, presumably driving towards Russia. Of course, in the darkness and the dazzle of beam lights, it was hard to make out what the vehicle was. With eyes, that is. Synapse's radar identified the vehicle as a transport truck (presumably transporting something from Finland to Russia), whilst the mighty mind of Synapse detected the brain of a single driver (of, she judged, average intellect).

GM "Hmph..." said a slightly red faced Ms Doors, who was unused to people arguing back at her. It was, to her mind, particularly vexatious when they had a point. Its quite unreasonable to cheat in a debate by having a point... And later, at 7:30, outside the Sunny Sunshine Immigrant Centre... The crowd holding up placards and back slapping each other seem to be of the same broad opinion. Thinking about issues was clearly much to hard work. How much more pleasant and easy it was to merely feel about issues. Majoried Doors was there, handing out home made cookies. That was Ms. Doors for you, for even if she had many unpleasant qualities, she was always making cookies and tea for students, and had held their hand on more than one occassion in a maternal sort of way. And she loved cats. Jack Jackson was also there, a shortish man with a jacket but no tie, crafty brown eyes and a winning smile. He had polished his act to make sure he appeared quite unpolished. One of the people. He was talking about the Sunny Sunshine building which was not yet finished. A few more days, said the builders. And yet, some immigrants had already moved in. There were, he was insinuating, concerns about local crime gangs both financing the building and using it to recruit.

Ok, so these idiots are PL 2, and frankly Gauss could take them down hand to hand (maybe taking a bruise or two at worst), so feel free to narrate however you want to teach them a lesson. The key is whether she openly uses her powers to do so. There will be no problems doing so, its just whether the one - armed man notices. If you want to pick up a cool scar from a lucky knife-swipe, or catch a bruise from a lucky punch, please feel free! However, any bruises or injuries you do get are moot, as this is the quick prologue and any "damage" you take will have healed by the main event. (Although of course you may want a momento scar!)

GM The four thugs stopped a moment, wondering just what the hell happened. "What the hell happened?" mumured the least intelligent (and it must be said, the competition was stiff in that department) of the four. The leader, who was the most intelligent (and, it should be said, had little competition) looked at his empty hand. "Damn...stole my knife..." he mumbled, still not entirely sure what had happened. He took a look at Gauss and his empty hand. "Nobody makes a fool outa the blades!" he shouted, angryily. The group had obviously tried to pick a cool name and had discarded any attempt at originality, although in fairness the way the leader pronounced their name one could imagine it was spelt with a "z". Although, one might wonder (given their intelligence) exactly where that "z" went. In any case, they were to dumb to register what had precisely happened, and too wrapped up in reputation and ego to let any insult smiled. Knives were drawn, and the blades charged!!!

GM There was, predictably, a lot of science going on in ASTRO Labs, and it would take days to pore through all the data. That said, one thing stood out. An experimental reactor in one of the lower basement laboratories, with a dozen scientists trying to pull the plug on some apparently self-sustaining dimensional energy nexus. It...didn't look quite like terminus energy. More like an echo. Or an imitation. "...oh I am sorry. Forgive mt ignorance, haha" laughed Dale without mirth. "I am but a humble public relations officer. I dont really understand all this terminus things. I haven't got the brains for it, haha" "And I am quite sure we aren't meddling with terminus energy" he said, more stiffly. "Quite sure?" mimicked Lulu. "Quite sure" said Dale, without missing a beat. "The world sorely needs new energy sources, but that's one place we won't go. Nor should anybody!" he said, crisp and firm.

Bingo. Results as per IC.

GM "Well, surely" replied Ms. Doors, realising that perhaps she had slightly over stepped her mark. "I mean, thats part of the American spirit, isn't it? helping your neighbour! Just as long as they are the right neighbour of course!" "I am all for community spirit! Love thy neighbour, peace and goodwill. But I am afraid some folk - not you or I, of course - aren't such fine upstanding citizens" she sighed. "I blame the lack of community spirit!" she said in a quite outstanding peice of tautological logic. "Thats why I am going, of course. Its democracy in action! God bless this country and free speech!" she said, patriotically, hand on heart full of pride.

GM The building emptied with the speed of panic and despair, which, as it turned out, was pretty darn fast. Yasser had dissapeared! The holy crystal of Daka had evaporated! A superhero was here! And Agent Fields was outsides, examining her WEST scanner. "Well I'll be damned!" She had seen the energy spike, and for a moment had made her peace with the universe, thinking that Cairo was about to be destroyed. Frankly, the readings had been so worrisome that not only was she going to make her peace with the universe, she was wondering if the universe needed to make its peace with...well....something even bigger. *Everythings back to normal...the readings went....really strange....what happened?* she said over the radio, to the Scarab.

Snakebite "<I think it is....>" replied Cassie. "<Cursed that is. For I cannot take it off....unless you know some special trick to do so. I am afraid that, even though I dig through much that is old and forgotten, I am not an occultist, shaman, or witch>" she explained. Although Witches have a somewhat mixed reputation! "<I think it is from the temple...but I am not sure. I found it on my finger after a vision of the past. A dream, you could say. Hmmm....the old Gods....>" she pondered for a moment. It was true she was no occultist, but she had heard of strange an terrible ancient Gods, the Cult of the Yellow Sign, the Unspeakable one.... "<If you can spare the herbs we can make the sacrficial drug. Perhaps that will end the scourge of Paruma. I hope so. In the mean time, we would help the village as best we can. Perhaps even fight the creature off, should it show its teeth to us....>" "<As for your wounded, we have some medical supplies. I am no doctor, but perhaps we can help a little>" she added.

How would people (including any others) feel about a New Years Party?

GM Unfortunately, as the crod further, security did not swing buy and the thugs decided to move into action. "Hey man, how ya doing? Came to see if you need a hand...." The large one armed man glowered at them. "Screw off" he grunted. "Hey, you hear that? We just trying to be freindly!" "I wonder how he ties his shoelaces" "Yeah, man, how do you tie your shoe laces....?" The large one armed man stood up. "By ramming my boot up your ass" he grunted. He took a swing at the thug...with his absent arm, like he had not got used to being down when limb. He staggered a bit, clumsily. This caused the four thugs to laugh. One flicked out a knife. "You shouldn't have done that...not when we just being friendly" he said through spiteful teeth. "No you gotta say sorry, by giving us your wallet and watch. Then maybe I wont cut off your other arm...." Given the strength of the man, and his massive arm, it was doubtful a flick knife could perform such surgery. But still, it was a clear enough threat...

GM And so... At ASTRO Labs.... It seemed that the relationship between ASTRO Labs and W.E.S.T, whilst not cold, was somewhat tense. WEST had little or no legal clout to enter ASTRO Labs, without either extensive legal wranglings that could drag on for months, or clear and present danger. On the other hand, there was a diplomatic agreement that they would co-operate. The question was how far that cooperation went. Lulu and Delta had been assigned a slick talking, tanned, suited gentleman called Damien Dale that looked like he spent a little too much time under a sun lamp. "Of course, of course, pleased to help WEST, of course of course!" he said, trying to steer the conversation towards the vapid and innoccous. "And...a genuine terminus drone! pleased to meet you, Sir! Thak goodness you are on our side, heh?" he said. "Can I offer you anything? Tea, coffee? refreshments" he added, trying to guide them to the corperate lounges and away from the laboratories. "Just the free reign of the laboratories....so we can determine the origin of this signal...." "Of......course...." said Dale, pulling at his collar. He was sweating slightly. "Of course!" he rallied, smiling as he pulled himself together. "If you would just...ah....for safety reasons....submit to a full medical and decontamination scrub, and...ah....go through standard health and safety training...only two hours....and....ah...then we can get you fitted for protective clothing....you understand!" he said, with a completely false smile.

I think Rev is down to 2 HP! (and an awful run of bad luck!)

OOC for this theme song

GM Prologue Nov 6th, 2018 Bayview Mall Our story of madness on the Monorail begins a month before hand, with a chance encounter in the early evening. 'Tis but a little story of humankind both putrid and pleasant, but should be told first. 'Twas a shopping day, of course, but even days of shopping come to end. Stores were beginning to shut, and people began to drift home to home food, spouses, or an evening of entertainment (of various savoury and unsavoury flavours). Amogst the thinning crowd, Ms. Kwon spied an interesting fellow. He was a tall and broad man, whose left arm was thicker than most peoples thighs, with enormous muscles. He had a shaved head and a broken nose. He was half heartedly smoking a cigarrette, and looked half-hearted. His mood was sullen, and his eyes gazed almost vacantly to the ground. His right arm was missing. Gone. Sewn up with livid scars. And more, Ms. Kwon spied a group of four punks, full of leather jackets, tattooed, and died hair, eyeing him up. "Shall we give him a hand?" sniggered one.

GM The temple was not large, although progress was understandably slow. A few more suspect stones were noted on the floor, and duly avoided. It did not help that the light was so dim. In the centre of the temple, with beams of shattered light falling from the broken roof ahead, was a temple to most horrible gods. The statues here were strange and disturbing, and built at odd angles giving everything a giddying, almost nauseating appearance. In various pots and urns, the Dust Devil could see the strange magic leaf growing... In the centre of the forbidden temple, Setho awote, dressed in yellow robes, his eyes red and black, a serpent coiling around his body. "You are...persssistent!" he croaked. The three Lemurian riders pointed spears at the mad sorcerer, their fear and loathing oozing from their hissing tongues.

Ronin And so... Ronin had walked back to the Crane residence, having memorised what to give Yoshie. Should tide her over till this mess got tidied up. Goddamn it, just when you think you have seen it all, Bedlam throws crazy at you... He gave Yoshie a kiss on the forehead, and she in turn told him he was a good boy and a bad boy in the same breath, as was her stern and loving way. He opened up the trap door to the Well, his secret hideout below the home, and descended. A few internet searches and he had the address. This, he thought, might mean trouble. Hell, it was usually trouble in Bedlam, and twice usually in Nancy street. He strapped on his protective vest, and with a cool flick of cloth his trenchcoat was on. Finally, with an elegant and even cooler spin, he picked up the Street Special (his customised gun) and slotted it into his trenchcoat. A few minutes later, he was driving his pick up throught the streets of Bedlam, pondering (without conclusion) just what in the hell could cause ink to flow and form like that. A few minutes more, and he pulled up outside the Black Rose detective place. Well, lets see what this is... Curtis was bold, but this was outside his comfort zone. Still, he kept frosty as he entered the building. "Hello, hello? Anyone here?"

GM When Robin asked when it was going to start, there was a brief second when Ms. Majorie Doors face lit up. Another recruit! How wonderful! said her beaming face, her jubilent smile, her gleaming eyes! Then, when Robin clarified that her query regarding time was for the express purpose of avoiding the protest, her face collapsed, her smile evporated, her eyes fell. "Oh!"...came the sound of hopes plumetting. "...well, its a seven thirty..." she said, more crisply than even she would have liked. "I am going of course. We cannot be intimidated by threats to our way of life! God Bless America!" she said, patriotically, shuffling some pointless papers in a pointless manner in attempt to show how much of a point she had.

GM "Ill try taking you then!" replied Rev, gritting her teeth (Which were, to date, still human) 50 Seconds....well that isn't good...but its better than five! Even with her optimism, she found herself counting down the seconds in her head, almost to the tune of her heartbeat (although, in truth, her heart beat was acclerating with every beat) She whipped forward her elongated arms and with splendid dexterity, made them wrap and coil around the Golden Villain. "Got him!" she yelled at Facs, most pleased. I hope! Unless he has a magnetic repulsion drive, is super strong, or teleports! Unlikely, but then again, this was Freedom City!

From the sounds of chat, its Rev that is up! So going to grapple Midas. Grapple Midas: 1d20+10 30 bam! Opposed Grapple: 1d20+25 29 to make totally sure this works, going to spend and HP to reroll that. Grapple reroll: 1d10+35 39 for opposed roll.

Yes, @Tiffany Korta, @Avenger Assembled, @Exaccus, @Thevshi this is still on my mind. And more, stuff about to happen in Hong Kong. The fall out from Head West (which is a few posts from a wrap) is that some Daka weaponry is heading for Hong Kong, into the greedy hands of the Hornet, who is in the midst of a power play now that Dr Sin is (apparently) incarcerated. If you are interested, the key questions are: 1. Tiff do you want Voin or the Scarab in the thread? (the latter following up from Icy Juice and the Hornet, the latter following the trail of the weapons) 2. Thevshi, what, if any, role to do want Tsunami and family to have?

GM Three spears behind them wavered slightly, as the Lemurians followed Venomax's actions with their black serpentine eyes. Yes. Traps! Lemurians did not sweat. They were retile men built for heat. It was hard to read their retilian faces, hard to see the flick of muscles under the scales, hard to penetrate the black eyes to see what wheels turned within their skulls. But even so, one could feel their fear. And fear begat aggression. Not towards Venomax or the Dust Devil. At least not yet, but they seemed to view the pair as tools in their mission, not allies to whom loyalty and empathy might hold sway. And their fear was like a powder keg. Spears and knives were grasped tightly, on coiled limbs ready to lance out. And they pointed down the temple. Onward! Like canary birds in a mine.

GM "You know Jack Jackson!" Jack Jackson was a somewhat obnoxious reporter who "Specialised" in super heroes. He was not anti superheroes, he was not pro superheroes. They were his meal ticket, and he loved reporting on them, and "reporting" meant "twisting the facts of the case as much as possible in order to boost sales and reputation without breaking the law" when it came Jack Jackson. No superheroes, as far as anyone knew, had been involved in the construction of the "Sunny Sunshine Immigrant Refuge", but it had been a political issue. Paid for by churches and charity (thanks, partially, to the devoutness of South American culture), plenty of people were unhappy at the refuge. Emerald City, like any city, had a problem with illegal immigrants. Some people even had a problem with legal immigrants. Crime had been circling around the refuge. But how much of this was news, and how much was fake news, was often debated. Sooner or later some superhero would step in. And presumably Jack Jackson hoped it was sooner. "The protest is tonight, right outside the Refuge! May it fall down in a heap!" said Majorie Doors.