Supercape

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.

Snakebite I hope we don't have to sacrifice a human either. Especially not me... Cassie was driven in many ways. But she wasn't so heroic that she would lay down her life. Risk her life, maybe. Sacrifice...well. That was another matter. She liked life. Quite a lot. "If we can help, we will. Although I really hope that doesn't mean human sacrifice. I...don't think it does. If we can just make sure the sacrifice that should have happened properly does happen properly, maybe that will work. But to get it right, we need herbs. Ingredients. Some kind of drug..." she offered. A thought struck her. She showed the old man her ring. "And if we can work out what this is...maybe that will help...."

Ronin Curtis thought he was seeing things for a moment. Did that really happen? He had seen plenty, but this was something new. "Sheesh...thats some spooky $£"%" he whistled. "What the hell's going on?" First things first. No rioting. "Hey guys!" he called out to the queue. "This ain't nobodies fault. Shouting and fighting at going get anybodies medication quicker. Its going to take a helluva day to get this sorted, and it's going to fry everyones nerves waiting. But we gotta pull this together, like Nancy street does, ok?" he said, firmly. He turned back to the pharmacist. "That's right, yeah? We can sort this somehow? Like, can't stop giving out medications people need. Even if they have to remember how they take it, still gotta give it to them somehow. At least, till this gets sorted..." And how am I going to do that? He turned back to the queue. "I'll look into this guys, don't worry. Just got find somebody who knows voodoo and spooky stuff, cause that's what this looks like to me. So if anybody knows anyone who can help....?" he asked the people.

ooc for this

GM Dec 5th 2018 Emerald City University Majorie Doors, the administrator of ECU was a pleasant enough middle lady in person. But, when it came to gossip, she was political. And when it came to politics, she was a gossip. A slightly sour lady with a big mouth, she had a rather firm attitude to immigrants, and was most pleased to let everyone know how noble and correct her firm attitude was. And today, she was most keen to complian to Ms. Robin Langley. Again. "Its disgaceful, you know!" she complained. "They are setting up a new immigration asylum centre in the Northern suburbs. The suburbs! Pff. Can you imagine the poor honest hard working people there!" she hissed, sure that everybody shared her view, because her view was surely common sense! "The crime, apparently, is through the roof!" she explained. "They should not have built the roof at all!" she added, pleased with her pun. "Housing all those Mexicans there, in one building! A breeding ground from criminals and crime!" At this point, every sentence simply had to have an exclamation mark. Perhaps even every word. "I! Will! Not! Stand! For! It!" she said indignantly. "Jack Jackson, the reporter, is doing a special on the crime there tonight. And I will join the protesters! No wonder people have tried to sabotage the building!"

GM The three men looked at each other. They were scared, sure. Panicked, even. But they weren't sure that dropping their weapons was any safer than keeping them in their hands. They looked at each other. They looked at the Scarab. They looked at the last faint glow that Yasser had left behind. They looked at each other again. "<Remember Ahmed? When he tested it?>" "<Remember? I had to mop up the mess....>" With memories activated and evidence mounting, fanatic loyalties melted. Three daka guns dropped to the floor, and they all ran from the building as fast as possible...

GM As knowledgeable as the Dust Devil was, the statues contorting around the archway were beyond his comprehension. He had the feeling that if he studied them too long, they would be beyond his sanity, too. They were not meant for human eyes. And even the Lemurian riders seemed to register disgust - even fear - at the ghastly scultpures. They pointed their spears into the temple, but seemed to prefer bringing up the rear. They were afraid. Although, to their credit, they mastered their fear, and moved as silently as one could have hoped for. The stone underneath wobbled at times, and the place echoed as they entered. It was a little dusty, and despite the blazing sunshine, the light was dim - beams of dusted light peppered the interior of the temple, seeping in almost languidly through the cracks in the stones. Venomax was about to step forward when he spotted it. A trap! A suspiciously discoloured stone on the floor, an inch from his about to descend boot. And to either side, suspicious holes in the walls...ready to fire a stream of poison darts that would make Mr. Sting lament his absence even more!

GM And so... The Gas Man departed, muttering under his breath about back stabbers and people who stabbed backs. He wasn't a genius, but he was cunning enough to know when to cut his losses. Finnigan was marched off to special circusmtance jail, and both doctors and occultists went to studying him. He was a curious case, for sure - his danger seemed to lie in his infectious nature rather than strength. It was therefore deemed that regular prisons were not well suited to him. Instead, he was eventually handed over to the arcane heroes of Freedom City to set up what they could. He refused to be "Cured", for that would mean his death, and nobody was much inclined to do that. Instead, he rotted - literally rather than figutively - in the most humane cage they could conjure (again, literally conjure rather than figuratively) up. Trumble street continued to decay. It was not much improved by Finnigan's absence. Perhaps it was even a little worse. But at least the pick pocketing around that area dropped off considerably. But not completely. For there were still thieves around. With orange hair. And green hair. But Justice never sleeps! ~ Fin ~