Supercape

GM "Bah! Reasonable is boring! I prefer wild!" said Smoky. "And hot!" He reached into the Jeep and brought out a bottle of whiskey. That was not filled with whisky. "Very hot!" he shouted, grinning from ear to ear. A quick flick of his lighter, and the molokov cocktail was lit. With a practiced arm, he threw the makeshift weapon onto the ground, where it errupted into a most excellent fire. Gossamer, master chemist, could not but help notice that the fuel burned brighter, wilder, and hotter than normal gasoline. But chemistry might have to wait. The more immediate issue was the flames that licked the boots of Queenie and Gossamer!

Smokey is up. As his jeep is in mid-air, and he is disarmed, he is resorting to back up, crude, weaponry. Namely, an enhanced molokov cocktail! This is a Damage 6 (fire) Area effect, so make those reflex and tough saves! Pervesely, Greenfingers and the Bandits are protected by the force construct. I think the presence of available cover (be it trees or force construct) warrants a situational +2 bonus on your reflex roles to avoid the flame area effect!

Snakebite "Kayara?" Cassie took a step or two back. Was this the same Kayara? If the priestess above was the spirit, this looked like the body. A reanimated, zombie like body, as if freshly sacrificed. She ignored the warmth of the ring. She was sure it meant something, but she didn't know what - and right now she had more pressing matters. "Explorers, yes. Neither Thief, nor murderer, nor defiler" she said, boldly. She was sure she had not murdered anyone. Theivery or Defiling, well, that was a little more murky ground, given how many antiquities she had dug up. It rather depended on whose point of view one was taking. But she was fairly sure she had not taken anything from the temple so far. Defiling? Not deliberately. But accidentally? quite possibly - who knows what ancient customs surrounded this place. "I already told you this....above this place, under the shining sun" she said, poking for a response that might give a clue...

GM "I didn't go round firing a blast pistol at a condemned building with kids in it" replied the Gas Man. "It ain't me whose going to jail!" He dodged a falling brick. "On the other hand, I'm not going to the morgue, either...." he added, more slowly, shuffling his feet. Finnigan was on his knees, weak. There was no muscle to speak of on his wasted, leathery limbs...he was only walking because he was so light. "Frankly, I don't even know if I can die...." he croaked, not moving. "It would be a relief, in some ways...to sleep...." "Ooops, butterfingers!" came a call from behind them. The Gas Man was calling. Clink...clink clink.... "You might just get some sleep after all...." said the Gas Man, as the grenade he had lobbed through the crack started pouring fourth a gas which was a rather nice shade of pink. For all his bravado, the Gas Man did not seem to be inclined to stick around any further, and - careful not to make too sudden a move - quickly scuttled out of the building, towards the tunnel they had came in from...

GM "Collateral damage" sniffed the Gas Man, although he was looking upwards and the creaking masonry. And not looking upwards confidentally, either. "Fingers! Fingers! Flee!" shouted Finnigan - and the kids needed no encouragement, for they were scuttling away as he spoke. He turned back to Justice and pointed a bony, almost petrified finger. "See what your violence has begat?" he commanded, angry and judgemental. "Only more violence. You may say what you like about me, but I never hefted blade nor bow towards anyone!" "Then you are a fool. Nobody goes to a fight unarmed" muttered the Gas Man, still holding his grenade. He brushed away some dust that fell onto his shoulder. "Now...time for me to go!" said Finnigan, boldly. "Don't try to follow, or I will bring the whole house down! Ha ha ha ha!" he chuckled, before shuffling off towards one of the shadowed cracks in the wall. A tough squeeze for anybody, but Finnigan, being so deathly, impossibly, thin would fit quite fine...

What position would Tsunamis father take with Dr Sin allegedly out of action? Loyalist? Power grabber? Fall in with someone else?

Lets have an intimidate roll then!

GM "Im...not a zombie...not yet!" retorted Finnigan. "And I don't want to be like this. Nor would I inflict this on anyone!" he pleaded. The Justice blaster was true, in fact, Finnigan was slow. Canny, cunning, and defiant - but slow all the same. He shuffled rather than ran, and he was not a hard target. The blast knocked him off his feet, ten feet clean, and he crunched into some more masonry. The Gas Man gritted his teeth and pulled out a grenade from his bandolier. "You are all crazy!" he muttered. There was an ominous creaking, grinding sound. The building was a ruin, and the Justice Blaster had slammed both Finnigan and the Gas Man against the remnants of the wall. A few bricks fell from above, along with an alarming amount of dust. "That ain't good...." muttered the Gas Man, looking up.

I actually make that a sickened status for Justice. Not to serious (-2 attack rolls and checks), and Justice still easily hits. That does indeed hit, and Tough Save vs Blast: 1d20+4 14 he is bruised and dazed for this round. That puts Finnigan out of action for this round. the Gas Man has but one action, and uses it to pull out a grenade. Putting us back to Justice, who can make a DC 17 Fort Save to shake off the Nauseate. Round 2: 14 - Justice - Sickened - 1 HP 8 Gas Man - Bruised, Staggered 0 - Finnigan - Bruised

GM Once again, Setho the Snake was fast, ducking behind the Throne with uncanny speed, his robes flattering with the wind. He had been unpeturbed by the sand, the storm, or anything else. It had, in fact, moved through him. His only vexation seemed to be the state of Abdul. But, he spied an opportunity. "You!" he pointed at Mr. Sting. "What is thy name?" "They call me...Mr. Sting, master!" said Mr. Sting, on his knees. "Would you serve me, Sting? It seems you have...disposed...of my previous partner. I need someone to bring the Leaf to humankind!" "Surely! I am in the midst of poisons like Ah nevuh seen!" grinined Mr. Sting, greedily, as the insects and spiders and snakes swarmed....

Unfortunately a miss. So, the swarm of insects is closing in - Dust Devil will be immune as insubstantial. Abdul and Venomax are beating it out of the tunnel, and Mr. Sting fascinated and awestruck, about to be engulfed in the swarm! What do you do! Dum dum daaah!

First off, its a Nauseate 8 Fort Save, thanks to Finnigans rotten body emitting such horrible gas! The Gas Man is, predictably, immune. Then initiative rolls, please! Initiative done lazy style: 2#1d20 3 1 with bonuses, the Gas Man gets 8 and poor Finnigan is on 0!

GM Finnigans face grew stony and defiant. "Never!" he said, his voice now firmer, louder. "Told ya so" said the Gas Man, feeling smug despite his pain. Finnigan ignored the Gas Man and stood up straight, tall, thin. "I was once a man of sunlight, I played by the rules, worked hard, got fair wages. Then, I got sick. Nobody could cure me, and I ran out of money trying to find some miracle cure..." He face grew lined. "I was nearly dead when I found a so-called cure...." Then, his face was gone. His flesh and clothes too. In it's place stood a half-dead, rotten man who was just skin and bones. If he had not moved, one might think he was a corpse. He certainly looked more like a zombie than a man. "Behold!" "Sheesh...I wasn't expecting that...." admitted the Gas Man. "Black magic. Sorcery. A Hex, a Curse. But at least I am alive! A man of the shadows, now! and I will survive! We are survivors, me and my fingers!" And with that, a cloud of horrible fumes flew from his body!

Once the Tsunami thread is done (which should be imminent) ill start up some threads. Broadly speaking there are three follow on possibilities (none need to be done!) 1. A social type thread inviting Forever Boy to sign up to the Codus. 2. Keeping Morgen out of trouble (i.e. there will be trouble, and heroes mop it up) 3. Addressing the Hornet's power play in Hong Kong now that Sin is apparently arrested (this one might involve the Scarab) @Tiffany Korta, @Exaccus, @RocketLord, @Avenger Assembled, @Thevshi which of these, if any, would you be interested in?

GM Chase...no. They were almost blind, in an ancient temple with some slithering horror. And it was anybodies guess how many pits and traps the builders of this temple had made to protect its contents. Chasing was a step too far. Follow...now that was another matter. Flashlight in one hand, pistol in the other, Cassie stepped forward. The Lemurian blood in her veins and eyes made her senses sharp even in darkness, and she trusted her instincts and reflexes. Besides which, she was in too deep now. "We come by invitation, we despoil nothing but dust" she said to the darkness. And her boots marched forward...

GM The Gas Man grunted himself back to standing. "What? He just returns what he stole and you let him go. You call that justice?" he snarled, angry and contemptuous. Finnigan, for his part, gave the Gas Man and Justice a long hard study. "Of course....of course...." he muttered. "Everything we stole....we will give to you! Just don't throw us in prison!" he pleaded, clasping his hands, kneeling, thanking Justice as if she was some merciful diety. "Fingers...my fingers! Quick now, gather our ill-gotten gains!" There was muttering and disquiet from the shadows. The fingers were not happy about being gassed, and not happy about returning the goods. "Finnigan! we can't just.." started the orange haired punk. "Do as I say!" interrupted Finnigan, a glare from his eyes. "Finnigan always looks after his fingers, does he not? Just trust in Finnigan, for he surely knows what is best!" The Gas Man gave another long look at Justice. "Seriously? You gonna let him walk?"

GM "Puh-please!" croaked Finnigan, dropping to his knees and shuffling forward. He actually crawled towards Justice. "I am crippled! weak! I cannot survive in Prison. My talents are few, and all I wish to is to carve a little happiness for me and my fingers!" "Yuh damn waste of space" grunted the Gas Man to Finnigan. He tried to get up, slumped a little, then staggered to his feet, almost bent over, his breathing laboured and his brow sweating. "We got him, didn't we?" said the Gas Man to Justice, now. "Quite complaining. Just kick him in the teeth and finish it" he said, firmly. "Do that, and I can forget you just shot me in the damn back...Jesus, you do whine on. We got the job done, didn't we? Justice is served...."

GM The sand whipped through the caven with a frantic fury, and no insect, arachnid, amphibian or serpent escaped its path. It was not exactly pleasant to watch. The thin-skinned poisonous creatures were shredded by the sand and reduced to bone and dust. The scaled and exosletoned creatures weathered the sand up to a point. Whilst they were not shredded, they were blown back, knocked about, stunned and concussed by the sand storm. Once the sand was blown, a clear and present path was open to the tunnel they had wandered in from. Hopefully, it lead back to Mr. Sting's stack. However, this was the Magic Mesa....

Rev All that glitters Racing Death Snakebite Jungle Memories: Walking the Daydream Mr. Murk Codus Immortus: Tsunami The Red Rat What Happens In The Shadows (Posts go to Sgt Shark) Starshot Crash on Volturnus (Posts go to Lament) GM Sting in the tail Busy Little Fingers Head West Red Net Texan BBQ Guide point to Mr Murk GM Posts: First, ensure 1 post to every PC. Then, boost post count to 25 in the following order: Snakebite, Echohead, Diamondlight, Mr. Murk, Lament, Sgt Shark, Rev, Ronin, Curveball I think there is enough left to then boost Mr. Murk to 50 PP / 4 PP

GM "I'm a me!" answered Rev, as proudly as she could. It was, superficially, rather proud and confident. But still, scratch the surface deep enough, and Rev did have lingering shame over her condition. Down to three limbs, her flying was not as controlled as she would like, but it was still enough to thrust upwards and let the blade swipe under her. She spied the running brother making a getaway. "Oh no you don't, buster!" she shouted, and swooped down after him, her foot jets burning blue plasma and propelling her straight for him. Fast as he was, she was a lot faster, and in a moment she was right by him, swinging a massive haymaker punch....

Defence +10 so I think that misses! I think Rev is up again, so Flying after the super speeding dude and giving him a heft one-armed punch! Punches Brother: 1d20+10 23 I guess that hits? If it does, DC 25 Tough.

Starshot Frankly, Starshot was rather overcome with the generosity of the Ul-Mor. No...not quite generosity. Their nobility. Your freindship. Was all he could answer. He hoped they could sense his admiration, his emotion, as well as his thoughts. He relayed the assembling plan to his crew-mates. "The Ul-Mor will need to time to gather themselves, their elders. They are from the desert, and whilst they will travel, they are not suited to the forests and plains. I think it is up to us to scout out the pirate camp and the Edestrekai" he explained. "I think our first goal should be to find out what we can about the Edestrekai, and, if possible, their religion...." He furrowed his brow. "This is outside my understanding. I am a hunter, not a psychohistorian" he muttered. "I can observe them and scout the land as good as any, but I am not sure I can understand what I observe. And then there is the matter of communicating with them...." He turned to Soreen and Laark. "I don't suppose you studied xenosociology anywhere, did you?"

GM Right in the back! Zam! The impact sent the Gas Man flying into one of the walls of the building, where he hit the masonry in a respectable cloud of dust. A few bricks fell. He slumped to his side. "Uhhhh..." he grunted. It was impressive he was still conscious, and no doubt his body armour had absorbed a fair part of the force of the blast. "You....you....damn Judas...." he mumbled at Justice as he tried to catch his breath. "Well done! You saved me! You saved us all!" croaked Finnigan, bowing deeply to Justice and doffing an imaginary hat. "Saved us from vagabond and vigilante both! How can I ever thank you?"

That will hit! DC 20 Save Tough Save vs Blast: 1d20+6 9 ouch. Fail by 10, so Bruised, Dazed, Stunned! Lets move out of combat a bit, unless you object.

Cool! I make that a DC 19 Tough Save Tough Save: 1d20+3 6 Thats a fail by a rather impressive 13, but ill half-waive that. He is conscious but ill say he is essentially so staggered (as well as literally staggered) by the blow he is only half-conscious for the next half minute or so, taking him out of combat bar the occassional muttering.