Supercape

GM The Gas Man looked around warily, slowly. "Its just dust here. What do you mean, he was in front of you....?" he asked suspiciously. "Forgive me if I don't trust you. You shot me in the back last time we met..." he said, slowly, examining Justice carefully. "What exactly do you know? Are you keeping something from me?" he asked. "I had him....I am sure I had him...." he muttered, wringing his hands vexatiously. "He must have slipped past you, somehow...! Amateur!" he said, pointing his finger dramatically at Justice. "Have you ever done this before, hunted a man?"

Snakebite Not the easiest question to answer. "We are friends" she answered, soothingly, in Spanish. She turned around slowly, hands up, to indicate that everything was safe. At least, that she and Neil where safe. "We mean you no harm. Although it seems that something else means you harm. Great harm" she started, wondering if these villagers have had some terrible encounter with the beast. The monster. "I am Cassandra Crow. An explorer. What happened here? A monster, did you say?"

A notice roll please!

GM At the top of the ladder, Justice climbed up once more to the abandoned building. Nothing had changed. The fire was half burnt out but still flickered with dim light and dimmer heat. The masonry was just as crumbling as before, ready to collapse at any moment. Finnigan was nowhere to be seen. Had he developed a sudden burst of speed? gone invisible? as hampered as Rocket Lord had been, she had only been a second or two behind him, far faster than he had appeared to be. But there was someone else there, standing right next to the hole. "Where did he go?" snarled the Gas Man....

GM "I want something better" agreed Finnigan as he went up the stairs. "Who does not? You? Content with just a gun and a bold attitude?" he asked, and seemed interested, even if was bitter. He looked down and saw Justice climbing up behind him with one hand. "Although...It seems your gun is slowing you down..." he noted, something glinting in his eyes. Hope. He had once chance, it seemed, and he took it. Once he reached the top of the ladder, he bolted. He was slow, slower than Justice, but he had a few secopnds lead, and Justice was climbing much more slowly with one hand...

GM Finnigan seemed compliant. He dramatically took off his tall top hat and dropped it, defeated. It hit the sludge of the sewer with gentle splosh, and he hung his head in despair. "It seems then, that you are the master, and I am the slave" he muttered, shuffling slowly back through the sewer tunnel, his voice low. He took the first rung of the ladder that they had descended down, which lead pu to the abandoned building. "It is night, yes? I will at least be spared the horror of my exposing my condition to the world!" he said. The darkness swirled around him and turned him once again into the tall, thin, but ultimately human looking figure he had been. "Sunlight makes my illusion fade. I have some connection to a dimension of shadow and murk that sustains me. But sunlight...alas, I have no cloak of deception there..." he said, sadly. He started up the ladder. "What fate awaits me when the sun rises, I wonder?"

GM Finnigan paused, weighing up his options, his fingers curling around themselves. "...it seems my....options are limited. Such is the way of the gun" he concluded. "Opression!" "I will not spread a plague. My power to infect is simply....a side effect of my condition. Something I can at least control. It is not, as far as I can determine, contagious" he explained, solidly. "So I give you my word, such as it is, and surely you value it not a jot. I will spead no plague....!" "But what good are words when you are the one holding the gun, and I am the one staring at its barrel. You have me, and do with me what you will!"

GM "Oh yes, I am sure I will be totally safe in the hands of the police" said Finnigan, slowly and pointedly, dripping sarcasm. "Zombie man lures children to be thieves...yes, yes. Prison will be a splendid experience too, I am sure. My condition has left me weak and slow, and more than that, full of disease. How did you like shaking my hand last time we met?" he asked, cunningly. "Fevers? Sweats? Maybe you are made of sufficiently stern stuff. But put me in prison, and there will be a plague! Any deaths, on your hands. But then again, maybe you think such punishment is warranted. Maybe you think it is JUSTICE!"

If he fits, Ronin.

Vaguely thinking about a briefish light hearted social thread set at the High Steaks, den of gamblings, steaks, and champagne in Freedom City (owned by Diamondlight, my PC). If anyone has any thoughts or interest, let me know.

GM "Bah! Peace!" muttered Finnigan, playing with his skeletal long fingers once again. "Tell me then! What will you do with me? Hand me over to the police? Throw me into a dungeon? Maybe let the wizards and warlocks of the Parkhurst Hotel dissect me? Perhaps a priest could practice an exorcism with incence and flagellation! Or do you have some torture chamber in your Justice Headquarters...perhaps a cage suspended by iron chains over a bubbling pool of acid populated by mutant two headed sharks?" he demanded. "You may judge my intentions, yes, you may. They are not noble, but who amongst this city is truly noble! It is by action we judge, not intent. What are your actions now, I wonder...noble or not?"

GM This was Finnigan's turf. He knew every nook and cranny of the derilict buildings that littered Trumble street. But, he had counted on being able to see in the dark, and was confident that Justice would not follow. Or, if she did, she would follow blindly (literally in this case). But Justice, today, was not blind. With the night vision goggles she could see him descend into the sewers that were equally abandoned. She could smell the aroma, reminding of her of her previous trip. It seemed these were the veins and arteries that Finnigan used to travel between the abandoned buildings. Who knew, for sure, how far his cobweb spread? Beyond even Trumble street? In any case, as Justice followed him down the ladder she could see Finnigan spin round. "What? Are you still here?" he said, in the pitch black, rather surprised.

Snakebite And thank the fates! Cassie was no stranger to living in the wild, and could manage the basics like lighting a fire and navigating. But food was low, and feet were blistered. And she needed, badly, to have a good wash. She would not want to be down-wind of herself right now, or from Neil come to that. She wondered what dialect these people spoke. Hopefully someone understood Portuguese or Spanish. Maybe even english. But this was the jungle, so it was anybodies guess... She paused for a moment and knelt down to pack her whip and pistol into the backpack. "Keep your pistol out of sight, Neil. We don't want to look anything other than peaceful..." she looked at the Machete by his belt. That was probably ok....machete's were pretty useful to carve through the jungle, and besides...hard to keep concealed. "We come in peace, and so on....last thing we want is a fight!

Standard action: Burst Dazzle! Firing this overhead of the mastermind, so hopefully catching him in it and not too many others! (fortunately not lethal so not too problematic!) Thats an area Dazzle Effect 8 (visual), so Reflex DC 18 to half the effect, then a Reflex 18 or 14 roll to avoid visual dazzle!

Rev "Great catch!" shouted Rev towards Fascimile. "I'd applaud, but I seem to have mislaid an arm!" She gazed down to the stump of her left shoulder. She could feel the arm slithering back to her, in any case... "Yada yada. Sensitive scientific equipment. If its so sensitive, why you flying around like a lunatic? Because its fun! I guess..." she blabbered whimisically, putting her finger to her lips and pondering the golden mans motives. Hey, in someways its no so different to me! Then her rattling rib cage gave her a jolt of pain and she was brought back to the problem at hand. "Time to light this place up!" she yelled, and threw a blindingly hot streak of plasma into the sky, where it exploded like a sun!

GM "We have one thing in common then..." muttered Finnigan, rubbing his hands together, the long thin fingers playing against each other. "I do not want to fight either!" He took a shuffling step back into the darkness. "If need be" he continued from the darkness. "I will move street. I will move city. I even hear Rio is a nice place to live" he said, softly. "But I will be free to persue my agenda. Survival. Life. Sweet Immortality. Yes, even power...." His voice started trailing off. "I see you will not leave me alone here. Thus, I bid you farewell....!" And there was the sound of his shuffling feet, dissapearing into the darkness!

A good point. Any suggestions to polish this up, folks?

Happy to roll with whatever you guys wish from here. Certainly a very interesting position! Ill throw out the option anywhere in this thread for Dust Devil to spend an HP on the inspiration use, and due to the Magic Mesa and his back story, get a particularly souped up answer. That can be narrated however you wish! (such as traversing the desert of infinity via the door of dreams etc etc)

GM "Giving up? That is precisely what I will never do" replied Finnigan, for the first time with anger in his voice. He raised a clenched fist. "Never!" "If you stop me, you may very well kill me" he said, calming down and giving Justice sad eyes. "Or worse. A corpse rotting away, condemned to perpetual torment, unloved and forgotten under dust and stone! Do you call that Justice?" "Bah, now is the time for you to decide! Do you wish to stop me, or are you willing for the odd ring to be stolen? The odd wallet to be emptied? What, at the end of the day, do you, as judge, jury, and executioner, think is JUSTICE?"

Happy to roll with whatever you guys wish from here. Certainly a very interesting position! Ill throw out the option anywhere in this thread for Dust Devil to spend an HP on the inspiration use, and due to the Magic Mesa and his back story, get a particularly souped up answer. That can be narrated however you wish! (such as traversing the desert of infinity via the door of dreams etc etc) Sorry, mispost wrong thread please ignore!

GM "Hey, I'm right here, you know...!" said an indignant Mr. Sting. Abdul was slower to respond, thanks to blood loss and poisoning. "You can leave our knifey friend here" he said, indicating Mr. Sting "for all I care. Perhaps a few spears will teach him a lesson!" "But as wonderful as the past is to see, I for one do not think we will last long in a jungle. This is ancient times. The Human Race has not even evolved yet!" he explained. "Can we please go back to the Mesa?" he asked, and he was both contrite and pleading in his tone. As for the Lemurian riders, they continued their alien banter, wondering which way to turn. Dust Devil had been suitably vague in his answers, and they were suitably uncertain about what to do, other than click "Setho!" again, jabbing the spears everywhere, apparently insisting on greater accuracy. Whatever else, they were apparently very keen to find the mad sorcerer, and it seemed very keen to stick their spears in him...

Just checking is it Rev up?

GM The Sonic blast hit Yasser square on with full force. On any other man, it would have broken ribs and quite possibly more. But in Yassre's case, the sonic energy sent fizzing sparks to every point of the compass (and, given the hyperdimensional lensing of such esoteric energy, that may well have been more than four). Yasser flew across the room and landed on some rather expensive Persian cushions. "I will....never....surrender! I....am....DAKA MAN!" he mumbled, proudly. The fact that his eyes were pointing in different locations did lessen the magnificence of his proclamation. And with that, he fell unconscious. Meanwhile, the Scarab could hear the sound of his cronies boots on the floors and stairs, advancing on her position. And she could see the corrupted energy of Yasser fizzing, sparking, escalating. No longer held back by his mind, they looked like they were growing increasingly uncontrolled!

And Yassers Tough Save: Tough Save: 1d20+9 10 vs DC 27! I believe that is a KO! Stuff happening IC!

Snakebite "I would love to tell you why" replied Cassie. "But I honestly don't know...." She studied the ring again. "A curse, I think. I woke up from one of my trances with it bound to my finger. I can't get it off. I mean, maybe I could cut my finger off but I am rather attached to having all my digits. It would make playing the piano real hard..." "It gets warm, even hot, around...well, like you say, when something crazy happens. But other than that, I'm don't know...." she mused. "I would love to get rid of it. I have a feeling if we can break the curse of the sacrifice...well...it's more of a hope than a feeling" she conceded. "In any case, if we are going to get the sacrifice right, we need those ingredients. Problem number one. If we need to hike to the nearest village, then to the nearest village we need to go. Unless they are stored in those jars down in the temple. Faster, for sure. Not sure if its safer...."