Supercape

Initiative: 1d20+5 20 Sense Motive: 1d20+13 31!

Please do so! (And thus roll initiative and bluff!)

GM With a snap that sounded like cracking bones, the eyes popped open. The mistress of bones was quick on the uptake, her mind razor sharp, and her body spun around with alarming speed. "What? Who? You!" she spat, recalling her adversary. "You caused some real headache for me back at the concert, my friend. But this is a different playing field" she said, voice low and slow. "Before I crack open your skull and scoop out the straw inside, tell me...who are you?" She looked at a nearby grave. "And what would you like on your gravestone?"

GM The Mistress of Bones was gripping her long staff hard with white knuckles. Her eyes were almost closed, and between the drooping eyelids and her mumbling, she seemed for all the world quite oblivious to Fax's silent approach. The language appeared Latin, and whilst Alex was mult-lingual, alas, Latin was not part of his repertoire - although he recognised the language well enough. The Mistress swayed slightly, lost in concentration, lost in ritual. She seemed thin now, even more so than before, but wiry and vital all the same.

Stealth roll!

GM "Sure. I can ride a bike. I mean, its simple right? only two wheels?" asked Pixie, a little unsure. The Graveyard was rather pleasant in the sun, with plenty of green that ran this way and that, and over gravestones. Fax could see no mourners, but every now and again their were flesh flowers, and the smell of the pleasant was a gently natural one. It was indeed a peaceful repose. The graveyard was middle sized, not too big, and a few dozen yards in, Fax spotted her. The mistress of bones, dressed as she had been before, clutching her staff and studying the graves around her, mumbling to herself feverently....

GM "What plan?" came the invisible voice. "March into the Graveyard, shoot out lightning, and hope we dont get our bones snapped? Or zombies rise from the graveyard?" she asked. "Wait...if she is mistress of bones....and this is a graveyard....errr....dont graves have bones in them? I mean, this is fighting on her turf isn't it?" she asked nervously. "Like, skelingtons and stuff. Shall I try an buy a chainsaw or something? Like in the movies?" she asked, getting a little too keen about the idea. "As for the Salon. I don't think it is safe to enter. I mean, it might fall apart if we even look at it. I mean...look at it!" she said, indicating that Alex should follow her gaze to the Salon. With the accumulated pressure of two gazed on it, the half rotten "SALON" sign creaked, and dutifully fell to the road.

GM The rooftop had a door with a reasonable lock on it. A reasonable lock that took Replica nearly ten seconds to pick. After that, it was a mixture of luck and skill, as she sneaked through the corridors and stairs of the building to get to the basement. She nearly ran into the cook, but he was almost asleep as he stumbled to the toilet. Perhaps he was drunk, too. At the basement, there was another locked door but this took some picking. Fortunately, nobody went down here. It was strictly forbidden. At least, thats what the sign on the door said. After a few minutes of fumbling around, it to sprang open. Inside, it was low level lighting. Very dim. Hard to see, although Replica did of course have a handy radar to navigate. There was not much technology, other than lights and a few computers of mid level quality and without much interesting going on. What was more interesting was the glass woman lying in repose, motionless, in the centre of the room on what appeared to be a bed of some kind.

Thats a success! Ive taken the liberty of assuming Rep takes 10 on disable device to get in too!

GM This was impressive. A storm of spectacle, a shocker of a display. A watt of "What?!?!?!" For the two men dropped their tins of beer in surprise. "A goddamn superhero!" they echoed eachother. "Well how about that!" said the older man, scratching his head. "Well, we ain't going to be gettin' in your way, son. Just you make sure you stay on the right side of decent round here. This is a nice place, with nice folks!" he said, emphasising his loyalty. With that, the two men stumbled off still mumbling about the extraordinary events. "Zap! You got em!" came an invisible voice just by Alex.

GM "A goddamn superhero" said the man, not sure if Fax was telling the truth or not. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Well, that's some tale, sure. In any case, if you want to arrest that woman then you sure wont find any objection from me and Jim" he said, keen to exert some vengeance, even if it would be vicarious. "But a Superhero? You don't look like a Superhero....no cape or nothin..." he said. He was no suspicious, exactly, but neither was he persuaded that Fax was indeed a superhero. "What do you do then? Fly? Breathe Fire?"

That moves them from unfriendly to neutral

Time for a diplomacy roll!

GM "Hmmm....sounds like that satanists girlfriend. Damn perverted, if you ask me, wearin blue hair like that. Ain't proper" sniffed the older man. "She didn't seem as bad as that Skull fella, but she didn't seem much good, not niether" he commented. He took a more suspicious tone now. "And exactly what business would ya be havin with her? Yer a young fella, driving a motorcycle. Looks like ya got more muscles than brains" he said, holding onto his baseball bat just a bit tighter now. "What exactly is she to you?"

GM Both men stood up. There nerve was not gone, but neither was it solid. After all, pride was an antidote to fear. One could hardly discard it so friviously. "Well you got good and bold, son" said the first, older man. He was not aggressive, yet. But he had a certain firmness of conviction. "This here is a sacred place, son. We have been having some problems with kids, you see. Now, maybe you are a regular citizen, all respectful. And maybe you ain't. So, me and Jim here..." he pointed at Jim, who nodded silently in agreement "we got a duty, ya see. We don't want no trouble. Not round here. This was a decent enough place, a month ago, till some satanist used Peaceful Repose in some goddamn publicity stunt. Now, we got to send out a clear message. No more messin' with this here community..."

GM The two Cherrybomb! Lollipops were snatched up by the invisible Pixie. They promptly dissapeared, engulfed by her invisibility. "Yummy!" said the air. "Whatcha doin' here, stranger?" said the older man to Fax, who was moderately intoxicated and moderately fat, and had a baseball bat of moderate size. "We don't wan't no loiterin', see. Best ya just move on. No place to stop, round here...."

GM The attendant dutifully handed over two Cherrybomb! lollipops, almost reluctantly, for the one in his mouth was almost sucked dry, and running out of Cherrybomb! lollipops would most assuredly not do. "Those guys? Huh, they just got their pants in a twist or something. Some metal head came down last month and recorded a song right outside the graveyard. Now, I ain't exactly a religious man, beg your pardon. But I still believe, in my own way. And this dude was singing some real disrespectful stuff, no matter what almighty lord you believe in, or even if you don't beleive in the almighty at all" he said, seriously. "So people got riled up. Didn't help much when is fans started comin' down to see the place and follow in his footsteps, you see? So some of the locals, with nothin' else to do, started up a militia. Next dude acts all disrepectful prob'ly going get his head cracked open with a baseball bat..." he sighed.

GM "A Cherrybomb! Lollipop?" asked Pixie, keenly. Cherrybomb! Lollipops were sugars and chemicals and tasted awful and great at the same time. The man at the Gas station came out and gave Fax a once over, hands in his jeans and chewing, yes, a Cherrybomb! lollipop. He must have been in his early twenties and fairly well blessed with acne. "Evenin'" he drawled. "Nice bike ya got there. Need a hand with the Gas?" he asked pleasantly, giving the two men over the other side of the street (by the Graveyard) a scowl. "Watch you step with those grumpy old men, partner. They got nothin' to do but pretend they doin' something important..."

ok! an IC post of that drama would be great. +1 HP for Lady H pulling Wadjet Out +1 HP for the Gun going off - I think its pretty hard to burn a steel smelting factory down but we can have some sprinklers going off, a Damage 3 effect on Wadjet Lady Horus from the explosion (And blobs of molten metal) and all sorts of tomfoolery The metal does hit the scuttlebots, but they are immune to heat! Round 2 32 Lady H - Unharmed - 3 HP 24 Wadjet - Unharmed (NB: Flat footed / Climbing) 5 Scuttle Bots [6]

GM And so.... Pleasant Repose was, as Pixie said, just north of Wharton forest, and somehow managed to be green and dusty at the same time. It was sparsely populated, not quite a suburb of Freedom CIty, but not quite a town in its own right. It couldn't really decide what it was. A few residences, a few shops, a graveyard, a gas station, and a boarded up beauty Salon that looked like it hadn't seen a ghost let a lone a living person in years, and was ready to fall down at any moment. Pixie was invisible, and riding on the back of Fax's bike. "What a dump!" she summised, and quite accurately too... The graveyard itself was fairly peaceful, however. A couple of middle aged men sat chewing gum and looking mean outside, with tins of cheep beer to keep them company.

Thats cool by me, but two thoughts: 1. I dont think the feature is necessary (that kind of minor stunt I think is just part of the electricity descriptor) 2. The Snare seems odd. It feels more like "Id like a snare" than "this is a regular use of electricity?"

Echohead Echohead dutifuly put up his hands. "Calm down, freind. I'm not going anywhere. Not moving a muscle!" he said, quite calmly. He hoped the Impervium weave suit worked as well in the field as it did in testing and training. Did this man recognise him? "Do I know you? I mean, I dont even know what I'm doing half the time, and know where I am supposed to be even less" he said, whimsical. "And I certainly don't want anyone dying. Or even hurt. Not if I can help it!" he said, trying to keep his calmness in his voice.

GM Pixie contemplated the matter and then reached over and put her wooly hat on, tight over her ears. "I can't say I blame them. Heavy Metal Shock Singer records a live track outside a graveyard called the Pleasant Repose?" she mused. "With his rather twisted fan base, thats asking for trouble..." "But it means I dont want to get caught with my Pixie ears, thats for sure..." She gave him a firm stare, however. "I'm not sitting this one out! NO! Its my puzzle box!" she said, angry and...sad? "So, I'm riding with you. Don't worry, you can be my sidekick!" she said happily again. "I can always turn invisible if it gets nasty!"

GM And so... The Puzzle Pixie did indeed have things to do; namely, scour the internet and the local library. She was away a few hours, but this was her life - solving puzzles. "Got it!" There was a moderately sized graveyard out of town, just north of Wharton Forest and predictably ripe with myth and legend about native American bones and mysticism. To top it all, the Ceremetarym named "Pleasant Repose" had been visited by Marcus Skulll a few weeks ago, in a publicity stunt, with him recording a rather unpleasant shout metal song just outside, which raised plenty of legal and moral objections. Alex, for his part, got the distinct impression that the locals had become very paranoid and sensitive...and had organised a rather agressive and over-reflexive neighbourhood watch...

GM There was of course a cursory - even rather reasonable - firewall around the club, but they parted like butter under Replica's electronic barrage. The security camera's of course showed the music and dancing, and a somewhat angry Gold Note, who was not dancing but consulting with some security guards with a mean look on his face. But what was more interesting... Was the cellar, or basement, of the building, behind a reinforced steel door. There, amidst shards of half-eaten glass, was a woman in motionless repose. A woman she was in form, but not in flesh. Rather, she was made of glass!