Supercape

Take it away

Brazen walk for Echohead! But defaulting to the Scarab!

Good news: The spider bots are minions. Bad news: Their defence is 7. i'm going to defaul to p47 rule book on disabling technology needing a DC 30 disable device check (Which kind of makes sense, Todd is very good at his job!). Initiuative Time! Scuttle Bots: Initiative: 1d20+5 6 Also be aware that Wadjet, at least, is precariously posed / climbing (flat footed) on Barrelhouse. And LH is not far from molten metal either. In any case, a dip in that is going to be a Damage 12 heat effect every round, although you can make a DC 15 Reflex save to grab on at the last minute to some bar or another if you fall or get knocked back.

Curveball Jazzy was pumped from her throws. Nice Job! she told herself gleefully. But hold on! What was this? A collection of contemptable contemporaries congealing in curious canters! Or something like that. It was certainly an action packed evening, ladies and gentlemen! "Ill need another!" she said to the world, grabbing one..no two...no four more baseballs. If grenades were going to be tossed around in this packed building, she might need to throw again. Aiming for somebodies head this time!

GM "Sure" said Tweed, happily. "Say, you don't think that old crooner had anything to do with it, do you? I mean, he was a bit eccentric...." he conceded. "A living fossil, really. But he didn't look like a ...well, I guess what does a crook look like, especially in Freedom City..." He wrote the name of Trrestock's club down anyway. Not far from the labs. Called "Golden Notes". A seventies theme disco place. Moderately popular. As for clues, there was not much to tell. Some glass fragments; shattered or half-dissolved. Not mimetic glass, as far as Replica could tell (and Tweed could confirm that). But it looked like it had been...well...eaten....

NOt great rolls, so pretty spartan results!

Initiative: 1d20+9 15

str and dex and the chaotic rules of randomness aii aii Azazoth lives: 1d20+10 17

Echohead "The Scarab? Why I er er er er er er errrrr" stuttered Echohead, gibbering and yammering and make all sorts of clumsy movements with his lips until once again he exerted his frontal lobes onto his limbic system. "Why yes! The Scarab! I have heard of the Scarab. I mean, the Scarabs. The third you say well I hear third times the charm hehe yes well that great" he said, voice fluttering away with his thoughs. "Please do join me. I could do with company. And...er....the help" he added, putting his blaster away again. He vaguely heard about the Scarab in some AEGIS briefing and it all seemed good fortune to have her onboard. Providing it was some morphic platic deathbot or something. But if he started thinking that way about everyone, insanity beckoned. Wibble wibble....

OK I wont post an IC yet, but please go ahead with that crazy plan with some IC posts! For prosperity, I would suggest notice rolls from you all (which I may or may not use!), a bluff or perform roll from Dreadnought if he is distracting, and some stealth rolls from Voin and Frost (if being sneaky). You may need disable device or someway of breaking and entering but lets cross that bridge later!

Echohead "Gazooks!" yelped Echohead as he saw the Scarab. He reached for his gun, and pulled it out rather clumsily, but had enough presence not to fire the thing (even if it spat out decidedly non-lethal Ionic C-beams, it was not the most friendly thing to do). "Who are you? Yes I am? I can help me out and you can me out help" he gabbled non-sensically before clamping his jaw shut and gritting up his determination and self control. He gave a brief shudder of effort before continuing. "I mean...yes! Help would be great. It would be nice to know who from though. I cant call you gargoyle girl, I guess" he said, his brain pulling itself together. "All I have found out is that there is something close to the river..."

GM As soon as Wadjet started to work on the skull of Barrelhouse, she heard a scuttling sound. Metal on matal. Rapid clangs. Climbing up a metal pole to her left side, she saw a spider. Not quite a spider, for it was two feet wide on spindly metal legs. A spider-robot. It stopped and glared at Wadjet with a dozen glowing red eyes. More clangs. Another spider robot was climbing up to her right. Then some more clangs over head, as two more spider robots appeared. In a second, six of the little arachnids (of robotic variety) were scuttling around, glaring. They seemed rather intent on protecting the Iron Giant beneath her...

GM Marcus Skulll was on the cusp of wealth, with the money starting to flow most liberally into his coffers, but his assets not yet robust. Still, he was a man of excess, and he had splashed out on a pent house suite on the twentieth floor of a luxury block of flats. Outside the tower, a large man and a large woman in large coats nodded politely and let people in and out of the building. It must be made clear; large in this instance did not mean fat. It meant six foot tall and nearly as wide. It was a most splendid block of flats though, all glass and steel and modern architecture. Must be costing a fair bit to rent even one of the less luxurious flats, let alone the penthouse suite.

Gather Information: 1d20+1 10

Echohead The acquisition of superpowers was a serious business with serious ramifications. And it was the business of AEGIS. Or in this case, Mr. Umberto Velluti. He needed practice, he needed experience, and this was what turned up on his radar, Stepping through the fens in his remarkably cool Impervium weave turtleneck suit, with blaster pistol tucked in its holster, he felt pretty awesome. At last, adventure! heroics! He was terrified, of course. But he tried to steer that fear into excitement. Not easy, and not successful, for he was still riddled with the cognitive architecture of a perpetually bullied weedy short kid. "Er...um...have you heard anything?" he asked random strangers, bubbling and stammering. He didnt really want to read peoples minds. But...it was getting progressively more tempting.

Cool!

Rev "That sounds like a plan to me" replied Rev, scanning the forcefield. "I mean, its as good as any, right? That energy field seems to be made of energy. And its a field! A field of energy!" she said, full of eagerness. She didn't really know what she was talking about, and she didn't pretend to. But she remained eager and positive - and after all, she had clocked what Alex could do. It sounded reasonable to her. Dangerous, but reasonable. Which, in her eyes, was pretty perfect. "How are we going to get the hostages out though? Do we need a van or a bus?" she asked. Of course, she kind of wanted that. Supercharging the school bus and driving it at a thousand miles an hour had always been a little ambition of hers...

GM "I can dig that" said Fields, helping himself to another thick and large cup of coffee. His bladder must have had super powers of its own. "Stalker, eh? Well, I guess those fancy famous types get stalkers every now and again. Watch out, you might get one yourself one day" he grinned, helping himself to yet another cup of his coffee. The smell alone was enough to keep one awake for a day and induce cardiac palpitations. Fields had a tendency to talk too fast, and his hands trembled oh so slightly. "Well, we put out the word on the car. That much we can do. We got a few hits, but nothing too helpful. Might have been heading to his penthouse flat. We sent a few officers down there to invite him to help with our inquiries down here. And if he doesn't bite, then to arrest him so he has to help". "I can give you the address if you want".

GM "Sheesh, that mess?" sighed the pencil thin officer at the desk. He looked like he had swallowed his own body weight in caffeine. Twice over. "Well we ain't got a lot of folks here right now. Spread thin as it is, and half of what we have is at the hospital interviewing the casualties. Not that we got much to go on. Just a load of broken bones and some crazy woman" he sighed. "Marcus Skulll is missing. Assault with a chainsaw, we might get him on. But the lawyers are gonna have a feild day mining this one" he groaned. "So I'm probably your best bet. Sgt Fields. I'm nearly a detective. Got my exam next week!" he said proudly.

GM "Oh yeah, the singer" replied Tweed, embaressed. He fiddled with his bow tie. "Quite an odd fellow. I mean, he made me feel young..." he said wistfully. "A disco man, from the 70s. Yes yes, I know its hard to believe but I do follow something of popular culture. Even if I prefer Jazz" he conceded. "He must have been seventy, but he looked younger. Purple and yellow clothes, gold chains, an Afro. In shape, too. Damn, he was in better shape in his seventies than I was in my twenties. I gave up donuts for a week after I saw him. Well, a few days anyway". He shook himself back to the point. "We had this idea that the mimetic glass would respond to sound. Particularly, song. We wanted something actually in the lab, so we did a quick search online, and came up with this guy, who charged nothing and said it was all very interesting! well, despite his eccentricity he was free, available, and very well recommended on the internet. So we went with him!" "Aaron Treestock was his name. He owns a club, I think..."

Good enough for it all to go swimmingly!

GM And so... With a fond farewell to Pixie, and the time now 02:00 hours, Alex hit the local police department. At this time of night it was just beginning to quieten down, but that didn't mean it was quiet. Even the drunks and drug users were beginning to fall asleep, but crime never slept (it just dozed a little). Police cars and night shifts still pulsed through the city, and the tired and demoralised cops of Freedom City night were living off caffeine and bitterness. It was hard to keep up your morale and dedication at this time of the night for all but a few of the most ludicrously commited policemen, and the odd souls who just plained preferred the night.

GM And so...windmills it was... Holland! Or, more precisely, the stately home of Duke Jaap Duke Jaap Dooyeweerd, a most curious fellow. A recluse at times, of whom most extravagent rumors circulated - despite his elusiveness he seemed to travel the world getting into wild parties, scientific conferences, magnificent opera's, and jolly hunting expeditions. A man of two sides, it seemed. He was also a notable expert on biochemistry and cloning. Not one to share his research, or advertise his expertise, a little digging by Comrade Frost indicated that the Duke, and his father (and indeed Grandfather) had been of interest to the KGB for nearly a hundred years. Nothing concrete, it seemed - but Hitler and Stalin had both been most keep to acquire the families skill and yet nothing had materialised. And it was the Duke whom Doctor Sin had intended to visit. Quite in what manner, that was another issue altogether. A dozen miles outside of Amsterdam, the elegant old stately home was well maintained but resilutely unmodern. The security seemed fairly tight - walls, camera's, gates, and so on, but there were no armed guards (or killer robots, mutant dogs, or clone warriors come to that) - at least ones which could be seen. A tiny speck of fortune had befallen the immortals. Opposite the Duke's home was a most excellent coffee shop serving most excellent coffee and most excellent pastries, and it afforded a most excellent view of the manor.

Ill throw in Echohead at PL 8 if it is a fit. If it needs a super detective, I can use Lord Steam.

Rene "Bah!" muttered Rene at the sight of the various Gods. "You speak for yourselves, most suredly" he said, neither loud nor soft. "Such is your nature, and your nature is such". He turned away in contempt of the Gods, like every God. A blight on the liberty and will of mankind. "But what do I know?, I am but a helpless old man. A fool" he added, contemplating the roof of Parkhurst - until he turned serious eyes back to the Gods assembled. "A fool who would know your agenda..."