Supercape

Diamondlight Failed sniper? After her? If in doubt, the truth served best. "A woman dressed in a Swiss costume sent me" he explained. "Although I have not the faintest idea who she is, or who you are for that matter. I stopped the Sniper, for what else could I do? I saw a man about to fire, and presumably kill, and that would not sit well with my heart if I stood back and did nothing" he explained. In the blink of an eye, his force field zipped on - a shimmering field of blue silver light. And from his hand, an elegant sword of the same light. "I was feeling light a noble knight!" he said. His pose was indeed noble. Not agressive, but theatrical, an emphasis to his words, whilst at the same time it meant he wouldn't get easily blasted. "And equally ignorant. I am being played!" he concluded. "But by whom? you? or her?"

GM "Yummy!" "More!" "Food!" Came the replies, in a rather brusque and unfriendly manner. And whilst it seemed the Dogs could speak that terrible tongue, and had some basic intelligence, the emphasis was very much on the word basic. The alpha dog out of the three took the lead in talking. "We ate new meat. Tasty and hellish! Made us strong! Strong enough to eat chompy chompy human!" he said, slobbering. "We eat you! We gaurd dogs! We gaurd! Mmmm...yummy!" it slobbered.

Well technically they are hostile initially so now unfriendly. But thats a lot better!

The Dogs are Hostile and are thus now Indifferent! Attractive wont count, sorry! Technically HP wont give you languages (I think) but this seems to me a quite appropriate use of am HP for JW! We fudged the above a bit with a stunt and complication, so lets ignore that (as it both spent and arguably gained an HP. I make JW starting with 1 HP so she is now without HP!

GM "I had to improvise" said Moon, not so sure of his plan. "Calm down, Steve, we just here to help out this girl" he said, pointing to the shocked homeless woman who had started the nights proceedings. "She one of yours. Lives on the street..." "Poor gal" muttered Steve, his hands still on his shotgun. "You gotta makesure they dont beam ya, girl..." he said, rather severely, to the woman. "Stay out of the lights. They beam ya if ya let them beam the FBI straight into your bones in the brain makes a stain stains bad real mixed up placebonic..." he said, his level of chaotic waxing and waning. "Wants she want.." he asked Moon before turning his gun to Arrowhawk. "No dont you answer, they probably got you with psychotronium big needle up ass...no...you!" he said, snapping at Arrowhawk. "What you doing here? Come to bleed over my carpet?"

Knowledge: Behavious Sciences to pick up Steve is mentally ill DC 15. (Higher DC for what types / info but no skill!)

GM And as it happened... Marcus Moon saw Shotgun Steve first. Such, it seemed, was the nature of his moonlit eyes. But Arrowhawk was not far behind, hearing the soft shuffling of feet. And the smell. Shotgun Steve was a hobo. And he dressed and smelled like the very worst of them. He had a stocky build of average height, and lank, infested hair that reached to his waist both from scalp and beard. He was dressed in thick and disgusting garbs, and was caked in dirt. And yes, he carried a Shotgun. His speech was cracked and garbled and without any hint of candendance or intonation. "Whotcha dooin here spi'in the beams gotcha inmahead gotcha aint getting in there no I gotcha you givin me dabeams?" he mumbled, eyes staring intently at the three of them...

GM The Tuna was, as said, a delicacy. Mayhap on another day, with another bowl of tuna, with another fleshy treat, the rabid dogs would have chosen to chomp jaw around succulent thigh (or other limb of equally succulent nature), but today... ...they paused. Eyes moved left to tuna, and eyes moved right to Ms. Jessica Witchblood. And eyes move left and right again. And, to punctuate their indescicion, once more did they move left, and once more right. Then, slobbering tongue decided. They punced on the tuna. Gaseous and noxious brimstone was their breath, and their breath, it should be said, was both Gaseous and noxious - for the point must be made clear that these were not ordinary dogs but canines of the most infernal variety. For now, the dogs were distracted, but they were eating so very fast...

GM "Its not a long term solution, but its the only damn solution I have, kid" said Moon, irritated now. I ain't seeing bow-girl coming up with better. Maybe that thought was just in his head. Maybe he muttered it half-audibly. Such was his vexed reflex. He cooled down quickly though, giving a smile and a glinting eye. "I save one life, its a net win. Thats a good day in Bedlam. Much as I'd love to clean up Bedlam, I ain't got a plan for that, other than a nuke" he explained. "What's your plan for that?" he asked, his question having a taunting edge. It was, after all, easier said than done.

GM The plasma coiled around Imprint in a most peculiar form, and most peculiar smell. It was like ozone with a touch of burnt sugar. In any case, it was accompanied by a most peculiar shrill shriek that went to ultrasonic ranges and would give the skull a jolly good rattling. It was not pleasant to hear, but fortunately it did not last long, for Imprint promptly shrunk further and... Pop! She vanished! Nay, not a trace of her was left. Vanished to oblivion. Or perhaps elsewhere! Down below, Block head twirled once, twice, and clutched his head. "Oh! I feel so empty!" he wailed, sinking to his knees, all five faces deeply melancholic. The fight had gone right out of him...

Giving an HP to Dreadnought to make Dreadnought - 2 HP - Unharmed Because of his extreme noticeability / recognisability (and the Hornet's superior intelligence)! If anyone can make a DC 20 Streetwise roll they can clock that most of the goods in the Warehouse look smuggled (no proof, but the packaging and labels all point that way). DC 20 Tech to spot some cutting edge poison-weapons in some cases.

GM The Hornet replied with snide intelligence. "Cactus boy? I am neither a boy, nor a cactus" he said in fluent English with a Cantonese accent. The astute would judge it affected; the Hornet, whatever else he might be, was molded from pure cunning, from refined brains. "You are Dreadnought..English...Vanguard...yes, I know you. I know everyone I might meet" he said, taking a few steps back. But not in fear. No, in prudence. Tactical prudence. "Why are you here? This is private property, and the English have no jurisdiction here..." he pointed to the cameras on the ceilings, which had been lamentably out of view of the Skylight. "I just filmed you breaking and entering, I think..."

GM At that moment, as per cunning plan (most expertly executed), Frost turned to mist and Dreadnoughts fist plowed through into the door. It promply exploded back, in a cloud of dust, and with it, a fair few blocks of masonry. So extreme the power, the door whipped through the warehouse and cut a hole in the opposite side of the building a good several dozen feet away. The hired hands looked scared. This was because they were scared. And not a soul look upwards to the skylight, where Voin was perched. Inside the building, loaded and half loaded crates full of merchandice that smelled of smuggling. Knock off goods, arts, and, yes, weapons and drugs. The hired hands held guns that looked like dart pistols, carved into the shape of a wasp or seprent or some other venomous insect. Some carried clubs and irons. And behind them, a man in green shiny armour, not tall, very slender, his body half crouched to spring away. The Hornet! "What are you doing? Why have you come?" he hissed in a low, surprisingly high-pitched voice...

Bluffing, now, he actually knows something! Bluffing that he knows something...: 1d20+16 24

Diamondlight Feigning ignorance was one thing. Feigning insight quite another. He put on his best poker face. "What would you like to know?" he asked, cool lips and velvet tones. He kept his face passive and his silver-blue eyes still. "I can't answer your questions if you don't ask them? What do you know? I can try and fill in the blanks..."

Recovery made! Block Head is hit with Plasma, and:Zapped: 1d20+12 32 sucks it up. Imprint, however, is hit with a crit, and its a DC 30 Save: Save vs Plasma: 1d20+10 11 Stuff happens. We are out of combat!

GM "<Get lost!>" "<Beat it!>" "<I'm Buddhist! Take your Christ elsewhere!>" "<Shhh! Stop shouting! You'll draw attention!>" Were a selection of the babble and cacophony behind the door. Aside from the voices, agitated foosteps and the muted sounds of firearms being pulled. Of what type of fire arm, there was another question. This was a smuggling dock. It could be anything from a peashooter to an illegal RPG. Possibly even a hybrid of both. Up above, Voin got a slightly better look of the figures. A dozen, maybe more figures backing away from the door and pointing weapons that side. Mainly firearms, from what she could tell, although quite possibly it was crowbars and machetes. Behind the dozen hired help was a tall thing figure with an angular silhouete. It was hard to say, through the old glass smudged with some livid green fungus, but he had a greener shade...

Ok lets see if this works... Mr Murk is using dimensional travel, as per his array, Supermovement 1 (“the Murk”, Extras: Affects Others, Area [Burst], Feats: Progression Area 3 [50’ radius], Selective) [8/8 PP] Hopefully everyone agrees to come along! This doesn't get them out of the trap, but it does at least take them to another dimension, The Murk, where the walls may still be there but the ghosts may not. As per character sheet, the Murk has crunmbling gloomy analogues of the real world but does not exist where there is sunlight. THis may not work and feel free to bend and twist this, or just fiat it away, Ari. There is a littlle bit on the Murk in the PC sheet. It has the disadvantages of being a distraction DC 10 environment (spookiness, uneasiness, flies), and causing 1 WIS damage / hour, but hopefully we wont need it that long!

Mr. Murk "Out of here? Yes, indeed. No use in denying it. We have bitten off more than we can chew..." He furrowed his brow. "Don't worry so about being blind. It means you cannot be deceived by your eyes, in any case" he muttered, drawing his own senses and insight into the situation. He did not look left, nor look right, nor down did he look, nor up either. But he sensed up. "Boxed in like rats in a trap. Like snakes in a pit" he concluded. "We need to go upwards, even if we grope dust and dirt and grime. There is something above us. To ascend, so often, is to escape. This is primal and true..." he concluded. He was not certain. But he never was. Instead, he was certain he was uncertain, and comfortable with it. "Freinds, prepare yourself for a journey..."

GM "I hadn't much time for a plan" conceded Moon. "One step at a time. Getting her somewhere safe was the idea..." he looked around. "Not sure here is entirely safe. This is Shotgun Simon's digs. He is a crazy as they come, and, yes, he has a shotgun" he explained. "He isn't exactly safe, but on the other hand he usually doesn't have a bone to pick with the downtrodden. Usually..." He was a little nervous now. "Best bet in a bad spot, however. And as crazy as Shotgun Simon is, he isn't as dangerous as the Man in the mask, and that guy in the shades. Yeah, I saw them..." he said, his silver eyes glinting. "I can see anything in the city, if its bathed in moonlight. Even you..." "If they are still around, the city ain't safe. And you aren't in any position to hunt the hunters. Not today. Not even next week, by the looks of you. At least the woman is safe..."

GM The door opened, not too fast for alarm, not too fast for fear. Her robe wrapped a little tighter round her, the cigarette snubbed out. She frowned; not too tightly too distort her face, but a frown undeniably. "Who are you? The Sunhawk?" she said, although Lady Horus suspected a click of familiarity in Ms. Eve's eyes. "And what are you doing in my house? Come to rob me?" she asked, defiantly. Lady Horus caught sight of a derringer antique (although perfectly servicible) in her right hand, hidden behind robe and wall. It would do little, of course, to hurt Lady Horus, but the fact it was in her hand was interesting. Lady Eve showed not a hint of fear, but she was not bold to the point of stupidity either. Lady Horus got the impression that she was dealing with an astute, intelligent and cunning woman.

GM "No, it is not" replied Moon, in response to the quite accurate assessment of the police force of Bedlam. "And I can't change that. I doubt you can. Maybe nobody can, least, not today or tomorrow" He looked back at the girl. "That's why we ain't going to get the police down here. Or get you patched up at a police station" he said, slow and deep. "I don't know what you mean about my eyes" he continued. "They are blue. Must be the moonlight" he smiled, knowing quite well that it wasn't the moonlight. And knowing quite well that Arrowhawk knew it wasn't the moonlight either. "Let's just say I got some ways of lookingf at things that are quite...unique..." he said, a smile now. "If you trust me, I can help you in the future. But I'm guessing you ain't really the trusting kind..."

GM The woman got up, quite scared, trembling in fact. The detective calmed her down. "Don't worry, don't worry. She's an idiot, that's all. Not the dangerous type of idiot, the one that sucks their thumb and wears a silly hat" he said, kindly. Well, kindly to the trembling woman anyway. He turned to Arrowhawk, hands in his pockets, silver blue eyes glinting. "You remember me, right, Detective Marcus Moon. One of the good guys round here" he said, his voice soft but with a kind of velvet steel behind it, born of wisdom and intelligence. "What happened out there? Looks like you got the wrong end of some lead. And more besides. I hope you gave out as good as you got?" He did not move but cast those strange silver eyes over her in more detail. Despite the dim light, his vision was apparently excellent. "You need medical attention. I'm no doctor, but I can try to patch you up. I know a bit..."

Round 4 35 - Dr D - Sickened Status (DC 16 to Recover) 2 HP 21 - The House/Imprint - Bruised 5 - Manneq - 2 HP - Fatigued Dr D is up again, and remember that recovery roll from round 3 (DC 17) and now round 4 (DC 16)!

Mr. Murk Formatting Error (1) Diamondlight Cretan Connection (3) Rev The Only Thing I Know (1) Rene And The Moon Is In Shock (Post to go to Ronin) (1) Curveball Service (2) GM Icy Juice (11) Poor Target (9) Block Head (4) Robots and Rangs (2) Hung from the neck (2) Violence is Golden (21) Iron Works (9) Glass and Gold (4) Guide point to Snakebite GM Posts (I make 62 = 124 Bonus) 25 Posts to Echohead and Snakebite (3 PP), 23 Posts to bump up Diamondlight (3 PP), 24 Posts to bump up Mr Murk to 25 (3 PP), and the remaining 2 Posts to give 1 Post / 1 PP to Lament and Sgt Shark each. If I fall short on GM posts could you give only 14 Posts to Mr Murk to bump him up to 15 (And give 1 Post to Lament and Sgt Shark)