Supercape

Ok, so just checking what entry points are open / available on the main building at this point?

Now with the BOOM. Ronin 11 PP to Spend Feats: 11 Bomb Defusing Expert (+5 situational bonus on disarm device only for defusing bombs / explosives!) Improved Grab Improved Sunder Precise Shot 2 Ranged Pin Second Chance: STR Saves vs Disarm Stunning Attack Equipment: 3 Equipment Changing Trenchcoat Array (The Batton Doesn’t really work with him) for 0 EP and adding Explosives for 16 EP Trenchcoat Array (8 PP Array, Feats: Alt Power 3, Easily Concealed Weapons*) [12 EP] BP: Obscure 3 (25’ Visual Feats: Slow Fade 1) [7/8 PP] “Smoke Pellet” AP: Damage 2 (Extras: Range, Feats: Improved Critical 2) [6/8 PP] “Shuriken” AP: Snare 4 [8/8 PP] “Weighted Bolos” AP: Dazzle 2 (Auditory) linked with Stun 2 (Extras: Range) [2+6=8 PP] “Firecracker” *To notice weapons: DC 15 for Shotgun, DC25 for Trench coat array. For a pat-down/search, DC 5 for Shotgun, DC 15 for Trench Coat Array Explosives (Blast 5, Extra: Area, Feats: Triggered 1 [timer]) [16 EP] Powers: 0PP Changing Device to be more streamlined! Shot Array (16 PP Array, Feats: Alt power 4) [20 DP] BP: Blast 4 (Extras: Penetrating, Feats: Improved Critical 2, Variable Descriptor 1 [Piercing / Blunt) [15/16 PP] “Iron Fist” / “Swift Arrow” AP: Blast 4 (Feats: Progression Range Increment 2 [Rx50’], Drawbacks: Reduced Range 2, to 100’ Max) linked with Trip 4 (Extras: Knockback, Feats: Progression Range Increment 2 [Rx50’], Drawbacks: Reduced Range 2, to 100’ Max) [8+8=16/16 PP] “Divine Wind” AP: Strike 7 (Extras: Area[Cone], Feats: Progression Decrease Area 6, Flaws: Limited to Damage 3 Effect vs Protection power or armour) [16/16 PP] “Hornet’s Nest” AP: Dazzle 4 (Visual) linked with Blast 4 [8+8 = 16/16 PP] [Fire Descriptor] “Dragons Breath” AP: Strike 1 (Feats: Mighty) “Pistol-whip” [2/16 PP]

GM Pixie, for her part, did her normal and turned invisible. "Run? Run you say? Well...ummm....sure!" she concluded, as the water started to churn ever more. And run she did, by the sound of her light footsteps on the bridge. The Gravedigger hefted his Machete again. "I not be running. It not me nature" he explained. Perhaps he would change his mind however. For from the cool clear depths came a behemoth! A rotting beast! A zombie squid! Twenty of thirty feet long, with tentacles just as long. And it looked intent on feasting on brains!

GM "Distract them? What do..do you mean!" gasped Ahmed, his face quite white. "I can't distract them! Well...I can distact them...but then they will shoot at me! Or beat me up! And that will hurt!" he complained. "No! I can't do it. I don't want to die...death will kill me!" he explained. "Besides which, I am a coward! Its a medical disorder, you know. Like a disability! I can't do it on account of my condition!" he said, adding particular emphasis on his logic (such as it was). He might have had a point; he was sweating, pale, and hyperventilating. A panic attack was apparently imminent.

Its all a bit tense! Due to Morgens history however, Comrade Frost is one step away from a sword swing - and he gets the distinct impression she will stab him anyway if it was not for Dreadnought's freindship.

GM "Men! Trial by combat! Ha!" spat. "What way is that to live? Deciding on the merits of one road or another by violence? No! I shall not. If fight I need to, I will. And I have. But I will not decide on my course of action thusly!" she said, proud and defiant. "And yet..you seem to be in my way...." She reached into her embryonic sac of ember and concentrated. "Why! What have we here!" muttered the Duke, peering over Doctor Sin's shoulder. Morgen pulled from the ember a sword made of the same strange stuff; orange, semi-transculecent. It did not look particularly sharp, but it looked sharp enough. "Born from millenia in my slumber. Born from my passion, from fire and ice. In case any fool would wake me with ignoble intent. Not again will I be powerless in the face of forces from sky or earth" she said, defiantly. "Why do you think I tore out my eye, Joseph?" she said. To him, her words were kind and strong. To the others, suspicion. She pointed her sword at each of them. "This man if vile ice challenges me, and to any other man I would refuse. But I remember the bitter sting of ice. And sometimes violence is necessary, as Joseph and I have learned. And so, let us fight, you and I. This time, I burn with something mighty. This time, I will not be helpless before the cold!" she said, proud and defiant. She brandished her sword. "What is it to be, then, Ice man? What do we fight for? What do we fight with? With sword and shield, or with bare hands?" She was still buck-naked, bar the remnants of ember gel on her body, and seemed not to mind one bit. Whilst brimming with life and vitality, her body was neither ugly to behold, nor one which would be plastered onto magazines. It was the body of an every-woman, and thus she was comfortable with. She came, after all, from a different time. "Oh! A duel! This I must see! Perhaps the Garden Lawn?" suggested the Duke. "Sir, I have a magnificent Russian Sabre from the Cossacks, a fine antique and very servicible, if you would care to use it?" offered the Duke to Comrade Frost, quite taken with the sheer drama of the play. Even Dr. Sin stayed quiet, caught up with the unfurling act.

GM "The dead? Yes....the dead. That seems...right. That seems what he would do. For love..." she said, sorrowfully. "I hear him sometimes. By the colloseum. Playing. He wakes the dead with his music. It is a strange thing, for something so beautiful to begat something some full of horror" she said. At this point, she started to fade. "Careful then, for the only way to break his spell might be to break him..." She faded back to view for a breif second. "And beware this lake, for something wicked this ways comes..." The lake began to ripple; quite unusual for its normal mirror like surface. Something was rumbling in its depths... "I hope ya can swim..." muttered the Gravedigger, hefting his machete.

GM "I do not know...the past is misty and obscure" said the ghost in a lilt, quite unsure of herself. Her speech was well elocuted, almost poetic, almost a song. "I remember music and laughter, then tears and lamentations. I remember a man who played the violin as if God himself was dancing on the strings" she continued. "But these are echoes of who I once was. And this echo now floats on a lake of calm sorrow" she said, sad but without despair. "We are locked in a box, where the dead do not die, and the living barely live. Beautiful as it can be, it should end..." She turned once again to Fascimile. "...what brings you to this half-place, and what are your intentions?" she asked.

Should have been a tag for attack roll, @Cubismo

Starshot Starshot could feel the initiative slowly slipping. Surprise and pace were potent factors... but are lost, sooner or later.... Then, it would degenerate into a grinding brutal slug match. And then, they would struggle. No time for thinking. Action is needed! He jumped five six feet in the air, and pulled back his fist. There was a cinematic pause of slow motion, and then he came down, slamming his hard cybernetic fist straight down, like a hammer, on to the robots head...

Move action: Startle Robot Startle Robot: 1d20+10 25 Standard Action: Punch Robot! Punch Robot: 1d20+12 32 well that certainly hits. It may even be a crit although I suspect Robot immune to crits. Its DC 23 or 28 depending.

GM It was a short, hot, and moderately unpleasant taxi ride to the outskirts of Cairo, through bad traffic. The taxi driver, A fat sweaty middle aged man had a terrible habit of chatting about this, and chatting about that, having the radio pump out bad music at loud volumes, and taking no hints that he should shut up. Still, Ahmed gave him a tip. Just to be safe. The roads on the south of the city had become bad and infrastructure was patchy. Things were better by the cool waters of the Nile, however. Beggars and peddlars still flocked around the pair, brushed off by both the Scarab and the Doctor; speaking Arabic was quite the boon here - it made it clear they were not guilable tourists. The warehouse was in poor repair, by the nile, looking virtually abandoned. However, two young thugs in leather jackets and sunglasses lounged outside, smoking stong cigarrettes and listening to arabic music on a radio station. "My cousin's thugs! I asked him to keep an eye on the place. But this...this doesn't look right at all!" said the doctor.

GM The poor scientist gulped. "Ah..Ah...yes...sure....I'm sorry!" he babbled, as he felt his bluff land flat on the ground and get solidly stomped to death. And an ignoble, ugly death at that. He decided not to try any such nonsense again. "Certainly! In which case...." Cairo! Ancient city of history, culture, and religion. But my, it was hot hot hot! Doctor Ahmed Misi seemed quite at home after the quick plane ride across the world. "Ah, Cairo! How I adore thee!" he said, clearly relishing a bit of Shakespear. And, if one ignored the head, it was indeed a rather adorable city. "It...may not be easy" he conceded. "I have stored the crystal in the city. An old warehouse on the Nile, in the South of the City. There are interested parties, even here. Like my cousin, Farouk" he said. "He is a crook and a thief, and has been pressing me for the crystal ever since I opened my mouth to him. Curses for my wagging tongue!"

Mr Murk "It is very interesting" said Murk with a smile. "Although I am not an oceanographer" he conceded, slowly and warmly. "My interests and field of study are somewhat...more exotic" he conceded. Approaching an immortal, particularly a young one, was a delicate matter, he had found. And the fact that this woman - as he understood it - was blessed with powers far greater than mere immortality meant a particularly delicate touch was needed. "Take, for instance, certain jellyfish like the Turritopsis dohrnii, or hydra. Functionally, biologically immortal. It is these questions of immortality that interest me. What would it mean for a man - or a woman, beg your pardon - to be immortal?"

Mr Murk Mr. Murk approached carefully. He was, of course, quite blind, but between a walking stick and his uncanny senses, he could see Tsunami's soul blazing in his mind's eye. He wore dark glasses, of course, to help conceal his blindness. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am" he said, as he enjoyed some rather delicious daal. "Are you enjoying the conference?" he asked. As for himself, despite his vast experience, science was never something he had applied himself too other than in the most shallow of ways. He only hoped he would not be asked some complex question on thermal currents or nitrogen osmosis. Or a thousand other terms he had registered but not understood today.

GM The building did indeed burn, and burn furiously. The night sky was lit up, and smoke filled the air. Of course, this was an Iron works, and some contingencies had been made for even the worst of fires. It was brick and steel rather than wood, at least for the most part. Whilst windows and furniture burned, the best part of the masonry did not collapse. True, some of it did...and no doubt some Architect or builder somewhere had skimped slightly on the safety paremeters of the buidling. It looked, however, like the building would survive. Burnt, blackened, and horribly damaged, but upright. The smoke, however, was thick and unpleasant. It would be a devil of a job to see your own hand inside...and oxygen was no doubt in thin supply. The scuttling robots, however, appeared mindless. Neither the Lady nor Wadjet could see them inside, but they made no attempt to follow the heroic pair, or do anything other than what their limited programming allowed. Protect the grand giant robot, Barrelhouse... Wadjet was also correct. No alarms. But fire brought attention. And tonight, it was in the form of a group of five punks who had been loitering and spray painting graffiti and kicking over trash cans. One might well call them vandals, because that was indeed what they were. "Woah! Awesome!" said their leader, a short muscular girl of twenty years age with a horrible collection of facial tattoos that appeared to inform the viewer that her name was "Destructor". She seemed very impressed with the fire. "Did you do that?" she asked Wadjet, awe in her voice at the perceived act of arson.

August 14th Delhi...World Oceanographic Conference Delhi was hot and humid. And this was summer. Combined with the pollution and dust, it was almost unbearable - and quite a jolt to the conference members who were discussing environmental aspects to oceanography. It was sunset now, and the blazing sun had at least receded somewhat. The Hotel "Golden Sky" was hosting the conference and even now the air conditionoing systems were working full blast. Mr. Murk had left the Club Immortus and assumed the form of an elderly Indian scholar, white hair, white moustache, elegant suit. Even cloaked in the Murk, his appearance changed, he was sweating. He had missed most of the talks this day, including some drama when the remarkable Victor Finn collapsed halfway through his guest talk on shark ecology. The poor fellow was in hospital recovering from dehydration. Now, it was tea, a most wonderful assortment of curries and spiced foods, and light drinks. Mr Murk could not resist greed when it came to Indian food. His belly was full and his tongue quite happy. He rounded it off with some Cobra beer, although he had no intention of intoxication tonight. His real interest this evening was the young woman called Tsunami. Through process of divination and his vast network of contacts and information, he had come to know her as an immortal...

Give me an attack roll!

GM "I'm not threatnin' da girl" smiled the Gravedigger threateningly. "Ya know when I'm threatnin'" The bridge of earth looked impressive, however, and the Gravedigger was thusly impressed. "A bridge! Ver' 'Andy!" he nodded, picking up Bitey in his basket, who once again wailed in misery. "'After you!" he indicated with his machete. The lake was crystal clear and shimmered in blue moonlight. Hardly a ripple crossed its surface, and when it did, Fascimile thought he could see skeletal fish swimming in its depths. A chill swept through the air halfway across the lake, and the moonlight somehow became clearer. From the ether, the moonlight condensed and formed the image of a woman in the garn of the early thwentieth century. Not corpreal, not alive. Somewhat like a ghost, one might say. "Who crosses!" she whispered, barely audible.

Looks good!

That looks good - except for regen flaw? I am a little reticient about aproving a flaw: medium on a variable power (as you could hypothetically just switch around until you find a medium) and am mindful that earth/soil is practically everywhere in this thread!

GM "Bitey! Ha, I like it!" Evem the Gravedigger seemed to approve, silently, of the name. Pixie talked Latin some more with Bitey. The conversation was not warm, but it was less chilled than before. And at least Bitey was not wailing in torment as previously. The rotting head still looked both disgusting and insane, however. Pixie finished up talking to Bitey and relayed the conversation, in Romanian, to Fascimile. "He says he is Octavio Rumus, sage and scholar. Or something like that. Sounded a bit like sorcerer if you ask me. Said he had made...errr....spells or wards or something so he would not...err...die when he died. Sorry, Latin isn't really cut out for these concepts" she blustered. "Or maybe I just don't translate so well. Anyway, it seems this violin player, Mr. Ludwig Necromme, reanimated him and tricked him into revealing his secrets" she explained. "He isn't exactly happy with this Ludwig, I can tell you that much..." "Enough talking! You speak English now, ya hear! No with the secrets!" demanded the Gravedigger, wagging his finger and gripping his Machete. "What did em skull say? And how we getting across de lake? I 'ope you swim good!" he cackled.

In which case, you note nothing!

Could you throw me another DC 15 Fort Save? If you make it, a DC 10 WIS check.

GM The Gravedigger gave a broad toothy grin. "An we shall see if that be so" he answered, voice rumbling and deep. And so, we see... More trees and stones past. Many more. If felt like time here was stretched, hypnotic, or maybe didn't exist at all. It was not an entirely unpleasant state, but neither could it be called pleasant. Every now and again, a skeletal hand popped from the earth, or a rotting corpsed lurched out of the moonlight. They were easy enough tpo run away from, punch, or...in the case of the Gravedigger, chop head off. "I'm tired. I'm, bored. And that nasty old skull says we are only halfway there..." moaned Pixie. It was hard to say how long they had been trudging under the moonlight - and the moon had not shifted, although it had surely been hours. They were by a mirror still lake now, and apparently they had to cross. Pixie, however, said she needed to wait as her feet hurt. "More 'n ya feet be hurtin by the time we finished" muttered the Gravedigger. It was not a threat, but it was grim. "Oh you are soooo grumpy" muttered Pixie back. In Romanian, just to be sure... "How are you doing, Captain Copy?" asked Pixie, much more cheerfully, to Fascimile.