Supercape

Rev "Environmentalist? So she's trying to...what...make a statement? Crash and burn the gas guzzlers?" pondered Rev, wondering how anybody could be that crazy. "Anyway, you got to hand it to her. She's committed..." she added, genuinely impressed about someones long term plans and the will to act on them. She snapped back to the reality that people nearly died on the track. Murder! Most Horrid! "If she know's we are onto her, I guess she is going to dissapear. But...maybe we have a chance of capturing her if she doesn't. Like...another race!" she said, boldly (and not doing a very good job of concealing her excitement at a re-run!)

Cool. This might mean someone approaching Forever Boy to invite him to the Club Immortus - I am happy to have Murk do it, or one of the others - or indeed a combination! Then perhaps some socialising, then looking into the Fallout in Hong Kong. The HK situation does not directly involve immortals (other than Dr Sin by his absence), and yet of course this does not mean that this merry band of immortals cannot act!

Good to have you back, Heritage Round 1 19 Greenfingers - Unharmed, In Force Construct 16 Gossamer - Unharmed, 1 HP 16 Smokey - Unharmed 13 Bandits [3] Unharmed, In Force Construct 8 Queenie, Unharmed, 1 HP Greenfingers will smash and trash the force construct in rage. Tough vs Greenfingers: 1d20+11 21 vs DC 23 is enough to get the force construct a bruise. Gossamer is up!

There are indeed, and if you have any actions to that effect I am happy to edit.

Search: 1d20+7 12

Thats enough to knock out the pilot. As for the plane.... TOughness DC 25 Saves for the crash please! This is lethal damage, too. Synapse will have time to get her forcefield up, of course. If you do think of anything to do in those final seconds, please add it in to the narration. There is of course a possibility that the pilot and the co-pilot might die. I would like to leave that to your feelings...I do not casually throw about death of course, and there is the possibility of some cool medical rolls to stabilise them. On the one hand that may feel too brutal, on the other, it may serve to punctuate just how frightening the Sleeper is (frankly he is the most terrifying villain I have ever made for me) and propel the hereos. Let me know your thoughts (and your rolls!)

GM The co pilot may well have been under the influence of the Sleeper, but that afforded him no protection against the mighty psychic powers of Synapse, whose mental energies knocked him clean out in a moment. He slumped straight into her arms, his pistol falling out of limp hands to clatter onto the floor of the cockpit. Fortunately, it did not go off. But that was small fortune compared to the bigger picture. Even with Replica's speed, the fuel was almost gone by the time she reached the console. And even with the fumes they had left, one engine on the left wing had gone, and the other engine on the same side was coughing. It was nearly Winter, and northern Finland was ice and snow on top of leafless proud trees. It was another small fortune - better than bare naked mountains and rock. The Plane started descending rapidly, and Replica and Synapse could hear a well - justified Scream from North as the descent continued - far too fast. Replica did her best, unnatural reflexes keeping the Plane as true and steady as possible and, for now...airborne...

GM "University?" answered the Pink haired kid, almos incredulous. "What the hell is the university doing down here? Nobody cares about Trumble street? And, like, there is no laboratories or anything down here, in case you hadn't noticed..." she said, with something mocking creeping into her voice. Meanwhile, the Green haired kid was busy on the other sie of Robin, with her busy little fingers slipping into Robin's jacket Pocket! She knew her trade, sure enough, but Robin was quick enough to spot her even so!

Opposed against Picky Pocky: 1d20+10 14

GM "Hey missy" said an unthreatening voice to the side. It was two young women, shabiily dressed, unkempt, with a punk style. They were sitting around doing not much other than observe the wildlife of the street. "What you doing here?" asked the pink haired one. Again, there was no particular threat, although the green haired one did stand up and start circling to the other side of Robin. They were probably sixteen or thereabouts, rather skinny in build. They seemed to be inquisitive, even surprised, at the sight of Robin. As far as Robin could see, they were unarmed. But you never knew if a flick knife or knuckle duster was in a pocket, or boot.

Mr. Murk "I sympathise muchly with your thoughts" replied Mr. Murk, rather impressed with the thinking and wisdom of someone so young (especially from his perspective). "I am a man of the law, even whilst I know the law is fallible" he explained. "If immortals could walk freely with mortal men, without fear or prejudice, there would be no need of the Codus at all, I think. And yet...the world is what it is. For the most part, we are hidden, and hidden with good reason". "The codus does not ask that you break the laws of the world, only that you...judiciously ignore this one" he said, carefully. "It is not a position of comfort, I know, but there may be time when you are glad that this second law of the Codus is in place - for you or your immortal friend" he explained. "Complicated it is" he sighed. "I should add that you are free to leave the agreement of the Codus Immortus at any point. And, by and large, to sign at any point. As long as this is not done with the appearance or actuality that you are merely entering the agreement when it suits, and leaving it when it does not" he said, more firmly. "We only ask that you preserve the required secrecy of the Codus" he added. "As for the third rule, it is relatively straightfoward in nature, although perhaps not in practice. The Club Immortus in which you sit, and the several others around the world, is a haven. There is to be no violence here, unless it is in response to violence. It is, in essence, a final protection..."

GM Mr. Sting was faster than he looked, and no fool despite his appearance. He oozed cunning despite his missing teeth and squinting eyes. He slipped back from the punch and brought his knife up. "Don't get in the way of justice, mister!" he said, defiantly. "This here is desert justice. I ain't about stabbing any old belly. Just the ones that deserve it. You gonna just let him get away with what he done? You got your own beef with him, aint ya? And I ain't gonna let him jus' talk lies with that there forked tongue. I had an honest deal with him, and he went and stabbed me in the back. Well, I ain't lettin' that lie. He stabs me, I stab him. Thing is, I stab better!" he said proudly.

Snakebite "If there are curses, I am your woman" said Cassie, unconsciously and aloud. She knew the Crow name was a magnet for any hex or curse around, and she had an uncomfortable feeling about that ring on her finger. She was not sure about the moonlight. Perhaps it was beautiful, but this was a place of double-edged swords. It could be beautiful, entrancing, and deadly. "The Catacombs it is!" she said, firmly, smacking her fists together earnestly. "I cannot promise you a paradise, for I doubt there is such a thing for God or mortal, but no one should wander eternity as an echo of what they were!" she said, just as earnestly. There was something deeply macarbe about it. And this priestess was something beautiful and dangerous, and - quite possibly - mad. With that, she turned heel, beckoned Neil, and started the descent to the catacombs below! If they could find them!

LAmentably, he is faster than that, and dodges! Meaning Venomax is up (once Rocket Lord posts!)

No luck for Dust Devil, but he is still up for actions!

GM The liquid mist was particularly effective on such a large surface area. Perhaps particularly so as the snakes wheeled their heads around to look at Venomax, and elected to open their mouths and hiss at precisely the time the mist hit them. This fortitously meant the stinging liquid hit the bulk of their inner mucous membranes. Whatever sound snakes make when flooded with pain, they made that sound. And being giant snakes, the sound was suitably giant. With Venomax and the Dust Devil suitably engrossed, Mr. Sting - with a lithe burst of speed, leapt forward and thrust his blade into Abdul's belly. "What...what....you stabbed me!" gasped a shocked Abdul, holding his hands to his stomach which was slowly leaking blood. "You turn on me, you gonna get stung!" grinned Mr. Sting. "Ohhh....I don't....feel....so...good...." muttered Abdul, turning white. "It won't be pretty, but you wont be feeling anything soon...." replied Mr. Sting.

Mr. Sting is going to take the time to leap at flesh and blood abdul and stab him! Stabs Abdul: 1d20+8 12 and hitting poor Abdul! Saves: Saves vs Poison Dagger: 2#1d20 10 4 With bonuses, the first save is 11 vs DC 16, enough to make him injured, bruised, and dazed. The more serious issue, however, is the DC 20 Fort save which he completely fails, reducing his CON to 2! (and this has the poison extra, so he is in real danger of dying in a minute!) Dum dum daah! The last remaining snake will try to bite and entwine Venomax: Bites Venomax: 1d20+5 10 missing Round 2 24 Dust Devil - Unharmed - 3 HP 22 Venom - Unharmed - 1 HP 12 Mr. Sting - Unharmed 9 - Giant Snakes - 1 Unharmed, 1 Stunned 1 - Abdul - CON at 2 (Poison effect round 11) Dust Devil is up! and can, on your turns, roll a DC 20 Notice!

GM And so, on Trumble Street! The sun was setting, and the sky was alive with beautiful reds and oranges. It almost off set the horror of Trumble Street. It was if someone had deliberately set out to neglect a street of deliberatly awfully constructed buildings. Almost all were condemned, and none looked inhabited - at least in the conventional sense. A few hooligans and kids played in the chipped and cracked street, and it was clearly a place were drugs and quite possibly other merchandice was sold. But it hardly looked popular even amongst the underworld. It really just felt abandoned. And given how the masonry was crumbling at every angle, it was not just a warren (as Ms. Doors had rightly said), it was a potential deathtrap!

You can catch 2 snakes in your cone of cold, I mean cone of calamity. I will presume they get a reflex area save! Reflex and Fort Saves: 4#1d20 19 4 2 13 With bonues the reflex save is made and failed. With bonuses and reflex save they still end up both stunned, and in fact one is knocked out clean!

GM "Oh I am sure the police have a ton of reports..." replied Ms. Doors. "And social services, well...." She gave the distinct impression that neither the Police, not social services were competent or praiseworthy, whilst oddly also giving the impressio they were overpaid - without considering exactly how cutting their pay would lead to improved competence or praiseworthiness. "In fair.. ness...." she added, rather reluctantly, drawing out every vowel and constanent, "this does seem out of the ordinary. I mean, we always have vagabonds and urchins and thieves, of course....but this seems like some gang, something new, something rather...odd!" she conceded. "Trumble street is a warren of broken buildings and sewers. I dare say the police couldn't navigate through that maze even if they wanted to!"

GM "Well..." replied Ms. Doors, a little ashamedly. For you see, Ms. Doors liked to affect an illusion that she was middle class, or at least on the very upper end of the working class. Lamentably, she was single, a lowly administrator, and not wise with finances, and the truth was she was rather less than well off. And so... "I live in Bethlem heights" she said, truthfully. "Its very up and coming, you know" she lied. She brushed aside the awkwardness of her admission by redirecting the conversation to the more serious matter of theft, and the requirement that justice present itself. "From what I understand, listening to the gossi---the community" she started.."there was a big spate of thefts all around my neighbourhood. Pick pockets, would you believe! and on Halloween's night!" she said, making sure she projected the correct (and thus, considerable) amound of righteous indignation. "I am sorry to say, it might be one of those vagabound kids in Trumble street!"

GM The Dust Devils sword of sand, his scimetar of silicon, his dagger of dust, smacked most elegantly and with magnifdicent force into the snake. The snake was big, the snake was scaled, but neither size nor scale was match for the fury of desert! The blast of sand hit with such prostigious might that the snake was sent into a spin, rolling over and over until it lay, smacked and dazed and then quite clearly out cold against the mysterious stone walls of the mysterious stone cavern.... Not that this act of might deterred the other three snakes, that kept on slithering!

Tough: 1d20+6 14 and, as it is a minion, it is neatly KO'd! venomax is up!

Round 1 24 Dust Devil - Unharmed - 3 HP 22 Venom - Unharmed - 1 HP 12 Mr. Sting - Unharmed 9 - Giant Snakes -[4] - Unharmed 1 - Abdul - Unharmed Meaning Dust Devil is up!

GM Yasser was muttering something under his breath, not easy to hear, but the sharp-eared Scarab caught the gist of what he was saying. It was rather disjointed, but Yasser was mumbling religious texts, and more than that - his own spin on it. "Blessed" he was. "Divine gift" he had received. And some rather ominous interpretation of Jihad, which was much more about raging war than inner struggle. He seemed to think that he had been given great power by divine providence, and was intent on exercing it in a most theocratic and tyrannical way. And, a muttering that he needed to caress the divine gift. To recharge and recieve its holy power. Down he went to the ground floor, nodding to a few gaurds who were too busy studying there fantastic new Daka-weapons than they were to notice the sly Scarab. And then, he went to a rather poor quality - but still serviceable safe, turning the knobs to a combination the Scarab could not make out, and opening it... There it was...a corrupted, blackened Daka Crystal, alive with unstable energy, and in the carressing hands of Yasser...who seemed quite entranced by his prize...