Supercape

13 which is mind blowingly bad - staggered, dazed. Meaning you are up again! EDIT - Wait! Lightning? Mr Metal is immune! Muahahaha! Meaning he will do a burst of metal spikes! Damage 10 Area Affect Reflex DC 20 And TOughness DC 25/20!

Skill mastery on Climb for a 20 - unless it looks exceptionally difficult (in which case I think Cassie may try something else?) As for Fort roll: 23 (+4 if Endurance counts)

Echohead Echohead shuddered, the sweat on his brow icy. "I'll survive. The stress will only cause a non lethal heart attack, I guess. Probably non lethal, anyway. Shoot, why didn't I copy the mind of a doctor?" He paused, his eyes darting around the ambulance. "Look!" he said, pointing. "One of those defribilator things! You can use that, right? With your super genius? Just shock me back to life when, I mean if, I suffer a heart attack?" He shook himself. "Anyway, we better get going. Sooner we get going, the sooner I can have a heart attack, I mean the sooner we can complete the mission!"

Nat 20 and a hero point? That's about as mind-ready as you can get! She will press the button - but she is clearly bluffing. The creatures in the vats are nowhere near ready for anything combat (as opposed to NOrth and the SOldier). THey might explode, however. You also get a sense that the scientist is, in essence, a proud coward. She wants to protect her ego, but she has no stomach for risk.

Echohead "Got it!" said Echohead, clenching both fists and pumping them with satisfaction. "We got this, huh?" "Oh..." He blinked at the location. "In the woods, huh? Good thing I'm not scared of dark scary woods, right? That would be awful. I mean, it would be awful if, for instance, I had a bad childhood experience in the woods involving a dog and a bottle of pickled onions." His eyes glazed over and he shuddered. "Yes that would be a terrible thing. Fortunately, it never happened to me, no sir. And I dont eat pickled onions..." "...pickled..." "...onions..." He shuddered again. "I suppose we have to get there somehow," he continued, forcing some mettle into his words. "Could we risk driving the ambulance? At least to the edge of the dark scary woods which hopefully dont have any pickled onions in?"

GM Cassandra's body reacted before her mind was fully aware of the danger. The feeling under her feet... the wood and rope slackening, falling. Perhaps she would have been scared, but her snake-reflexes were already launching her to the mountain ledge behind her. She was in the air before she absorbed what was happening. Once absorbed, however, the magnitude of the peril hammered into head like a stream of nails. "Oh, Sh---" she started, before deciding to preserve her energy and breath. She grabbed hold of one flailing rope, and as she swung towards the sheer cliff face, launched herself up with her wiry strength, flipping her body so that she managed to get one-two hands onto the mountain, and climb up to safety. "Spiderbite today..." she said, impressed with her own agility. Pausing a moment to get her breath back, she contemplated the lights. The light of the body - that sounded the first to go to. Because she was sure her body would fail before her will did!

Great! Just to keep track Round 2 15 - Big Brother - Bruised 7 - Dwayne - Bruised - 3 HP I think that means you are up!

At the risk of killjoy - skill mastery, taking 10, +20 bonus = 30 Snakelike reflexes! Super DEX is good for something!

Snakebite Cassandra looked down - to her regret. Swirling air, swirling wind. The view made her feel queasy, made her step back. Her hand now lay on the undrawn pistol. If she fired, and the Yeti fell unconscious - it might take a tumble to the depths below. She was no killer. She took her hand off the pistol. "I have to pass," she explained, breath harder now, laced with adrenaline. "I cant let a friend die, even if there is only a chance. Would you leave one of your tribe to die?" All the time her tongue worked, she wondered what she was going to do if the Yeti turned violent. She would, she realised, have to make sure it got off the bridge before she fired, or even struck. If it fell, it would die. For that matter, so would she.

Bloody Mess Bloody Mess batted the insects away, but for every dozen that got smashed by his spade like hands, there were another two dozen that flew into his face and up his nose. "Gfff!" he sneezed. "Screw this! I ain't gonna punch no dame, but I can punch him!" he said to the world, pointing at Anarchilles. With a mighty leap from mighty pumped up legs, he launched himself into the air, insects smacking into his face. He landed with a crunch on the tarmac right by Anarchilles, spitting out a mouthfull of splatted insects, pulling back a hammer fist, winding it up, and letting loose a mighty punch from a mighty pumped up arm! With a bit of luck, Anarchilles would block righty with his face.

Mess is going to jump to Anarchilled and do a straight old punch! 23 pretty good. If that hits its a DC 25 TOugh/Damage and DC 16 Fort/Nauseate

Gamma Buzz "Yippee!" yelled Baltazar. He flipped into the air, landing on a nearby wall, stuck to it like a cockroach that had been bitten by a radioactive kid. "Boss Lady! You remind me of..." His humour centre choked. "...a Lady... who is bossy. Like a really bossy.... Lady..." He scowled at his inability to come up with anything witty. "And that calls for.... GAMMA VISION!" he add, blustering out the taunt with speed to make up for the paucity of his previous statements. With a grin, two green laser beams popped out of his insectiod eyes...

Ok Baz is going to vault into the air, stick to a wall, and try and get the lady in a gamma vision blast! 14 which I guess is on target but she dodges.

Snakebite That, thought Snakebite, looked very much like a Yeti in a cloack. Of course, she was expecting, nay, wanting, to see Yeti, so she was seeing Yeti all the time. But still, this looked more like a Yeti than the last cluster of rocks that had piqued her interest. "Some things," she called back. Her hand moved a millimeter closer to her dart pistol. She kept her eyes on the figure. Mainly because she didnt want to cast them down. She was adventurer archeologist. Whilst she wasn't scared of snakes, she felt queazy at heights. "But a man's life in danger. And a life is priceless." That was a half truth. Sure, save the professor. But untold fame and glory would be a nice little side salad, wouldn't it? "I need to pass. A friend was lost here, and I must find him, or his bones."

She is good, but give me a Sense Motive roll (Dc 25)

GM "Swimming, not downing," said the Scientist, a crooked smile on her lips. "And you, sir - or is it madam - are trying to tilt me..." She took a deep breath in, deep breath out. "I am not the finest mind on the planet. But I know what am I doing. I studied psychology before biochemistry, and I can assure you I can recognise when someone is trying to tilt me. Or distract me, like know..." Her finger poised over her keyboard. "We can either work this out, a comprimise where neither of us are particularly happy, or I can release my babies and we see where the dice fall. I would say the dice would be loaded for me. You have, I am sure, seen what even one of my creations can do. And I have six..."

GM "Alaska..." said the tremulous thug. "North Alaska. Theres a plane flies from the airport there, they supply the..." the thug shuddered and looked at the carnage of flesh around them. "The merchandise. Augustine airport, some frozen hell. Pack a thermos, if I was you..." He tried to pull himself together, and failed. "The Plane was... what... called Whiteshadow. Cant remember the serial number. Z778-something something. Look, they didn't let me take a photo, right? the pilot was some thug with a broken nose and a scar on his chin. Looked heavy, if you know what I mean. But he always delivered the goods."

Haven Although there was no air, and Haven didnt need any air to breathe... Haven still found himself exhaling. He didn't sweat, either, but in this cyber world he found his shirt damp. "That was... unpleasant..." he said to the Lion, adjusting his tie. "You have some serious protection here. Militant protection. Dare I say this is tyrannical?" "I can understand you fear. But living like this? When will the fear end? Please. Something feels corrupted. What is going on in this land of Oz?"

Given BM is effectively blind (visual obscure) - is anyone bleeding that he could target with his detect blood supersense?

GM The Thugs looked at each other and ran. Stupid, they were, but it would have taken a fool of the highest calibre (with a PhD in Foolishness) to hang around facing this threat. Knives clattered to the floor, and sneakers pounded the tarmac. It was amazing how fear lent wings. And then, Sunset appeared. The black silhouette seemed more solid now, the orange eyes blazed with a more corpreal fire. His grin was as wide as ever. His hands rubbed his stomach. "My days!" he whispered. "I cant recall a feast so sumptious! The anger! And the effort you put into stopping it! I couldn't dream of a sweeter meat!" His blazing eyes turned to Jack. "Thankyou, sir! The dice of fortune fell most kindly when I bumped into you! The feast of a century! of a Millenia! Where does that rage come from? And how do you hold it in check?" He laughed, and kicked the beaten man. His foot was not fully corpreal, but neither was it fully intangible. It sort of half passed through the man's head. Enough to tip him into unconsciousness, but not bloody the nose.

Snakebite A night in a tent? It was tempting; but the dark held no peril for her snake eyes. And every hour was another hour her quarry might be dying, or dead. The flip side was that the climb would be arduous even for her wiry physique. A good nights rest? It might be in order. "Ill pitch up," she said. "But I'm off the first glint of sunshine." She made up a tent as quickly as she could and snuggled up to try and sleep. It did not come easily, and when it came, it was fitful, full of dreams about Yeti and Professors and Snakes. The first glint of sunshine did arive, and Cassie was not sure if she was more, or less tired. She heated some strong coffee over fire - very strong. In retrospect, she should have pressed on. The bitter coffee matched her bitter mood. Her face was sour, scowling. Throwing the last dregs of coffee onto the fire, she picked up her backpack (with surprising ease), holstered her dart pistol, and hooked her whip onto her belt. She was as ready as she could be; pack full of mountaineering gear, rope over her shoulder. Plenty of food. GPS signal in one pocket, Swiss Army Knife in another. She consulted her maps one last time, and started heading off in the direction of the Professor. She hoped. It was not easy; one could not climb in a straight line. Cassie had a grip of iron and wiry muscles that were - for her size - inhumanly strong. She knew how to climb, too, but she was not an expert. For now, she stuck to the moderately difficult lines; ones that might pose some challenge, but were not perilous.

Ok! Well CLimb has Skill mastery so just taking 10 for a 20 result. If I can take 10 on Survival (I presume as no threats) then I will for a 20 result. If not, then 21, almost the same

GM The Firewoman appeared to take some resolve from Dwayne's calm certainty. She nodded. "That right. Just gotta d--phleugh...." She vomitted once more and fell back to her knees, clutching her head. "See?" said Big Brother. "You are just PUNY FLESHLINGS That are made of FLESH. And are PUNY!" "At least they can swim! You should see the ocean here!" said Mr Metal between sobs. Just mention of the word ocean sent a shudder through his body. And it silenced Big Brother, who snarled and waved his hands. "Pffft, I am not afraid of.... oceans...." he said with a shudder. From the ground beneath Dwayne, metal prongs spiked upwards, bent and twisted, ripped into a new shape, a shape that threatened to chain Dwayne to a customised skin-tight cell!

27 so comfortably making it this time. Big Brother is going to respond by a snare! Its an indirect perception attack so hits - Reflex save DC 20 please :0 Also can you give me a notice roll? DC 25

Haven in Summer of Zen Every Summer, Haven went to Kyoto. To be more precise, just outside Kyoto. In a tranquil area, full of Zen gardens. It was here he came to reflect. On life, the universe, and everything. Getting to Kyoto was an ordeal. He could mimic the appearance of anybody, and with his computer skills, he could bypass the passport control. Illegal, of course, but it was not the first time Haven did something illegal. He was a man with no face, and anonymity was his shield. To keep his shield, he had to dive into cyberspace and tweak a bit of data there, a bit of data here. He could do the act without remorse. The danger – the fear – was its addictive power. He could tweak, tweak, tweak, slowly progressing to larger tweaks in more critical systems. This was the crack for a good hacker. And good hackers could go down a dark path, confident that they knew best. Using words like “Greater good” with free abandon. Haven dressed in a crisp black suit, jacket, shirt, tie – all black, in different shades. He knew he looked like something of a Yakuza, a thug, but there was no ink on his back, nor his arms. Hopefully, he looked professional, just another businessman on some business. And yet people seemed to avoid him all the same. He smiled at the woman nest to him in line to depart the airport. She smiled back. Polite, but not intimate. If Haven had lungs, he would have sighed. This seemed to be the nature of his existence. But could he change that nature? He wandered the streets, smiling politely at passers by. Some smiled back, some hurried along. One evidently intoxicated woman tried to clumsily flirt, to the point of borderline sexual harassment. He had to push her away. He shook his head at he behaviour, and shook his head again, contemplating the nature of lust and desire, and wondering if his metal form could embrace that joy. Summer, he recalled, was the season of lust and love. It seemed an echo now; was this carved into his artificial system, or was it merely cobwebbed, atrophied from underuse? For Haven, Summer was a time – a ritual – of such contemplation. Perhaps he could be using his time more productively? I do enough, he told himself. Every soul must also strive to improve itself, not just the world it lives in. He found a garden, paid the entrance, and sat on a wooden bench. His fingers touched the wood, feeling its grooves, the organic nature of the substance. Perfect, imperfect. Both grown and carved. An old man sat by him, slim stick in hand, face weathered with lines, skin loose over thin and old bones. His spine was a little hunched, his legs a little bandy, but still he gave a smile. He spoke in Japanese, voice soft and hoarse. “Hot day for a suit.” The sun was still rising, but it was a cloudless sky in Summer. It was indeed hot. Any man, or woman, in a suit would be sweating. But Haven didn’t sweat. He nodded. They sat together. “Visitor?” asked the old man. Haven nodded. He wishes he wasn’t. He wished he could sit here forever. But forever was a long time, and the wish he could sit here forever would not last. Time passed. Haven and the old man sat, still, reflective, contemplating the carefully cultured zen garden, each plant and structure carefully arranged to look unarranged. This was the paradox of Zen. “Not many people can sit in silence for as long as me,” said the old man, not looking at Haven but smiling at him. Haven found himself smiling back. He hadn’t come here for conversation, but this was an unusual conversation, words slow and laced, pregnant with meaning and without threat. “Not many people are me,” he said. The old man’s smile threatened to widen, possibly break into a smile. “You belong in this place.” Haven nodded. “I need to belong somewhere.” “Ah. I am old, and it the simple pleasures that remain. Peace, belonging. It is only when one has lived life full of complexities that one can appreciate the simple.” “Relativity.” The old man nodded again, slow, almost sad now. “At the end, we are just dust on gravel. We form one way, then another, and then we are lost.” Haven nodded back. He formed many ways. And he could, potentially, live forever, or at least (as he understood it) until the universe ripped itself apart. But would he be the same person? “We die every moment, to reform the next.” “I like you, Visitor,” said the old man. “What is your name?” Haven paused. What was it? Milo? Haven? Perhaps he needed a name for this moment, this state of being, that was neither Milo nor Haven. “Mercury,” he answered. Fluid, metal. One could not nail mercury down. Perhaps that was his nature. “Greek God? You don’t look Greek, you don’t look like a God. Not your real name, is it? But what is a real name?” asked the old man, who shrugged. “Pleased to meet you, Mercury.” “And yours?” asked Haven, out of politeness. “Oh, I don’t know,” said the man. “If you are called Mercury you can call me Uranus.” Haven was about to make comment on the juvenile jokes that perpetually frothed from the name, but held the reflex in. This was not the place. Uranus, god of the underworld. The old man was truly venerable and would be soon in that place, if it existed. If Haven was Mercury, this man could call himself Uranus; and give a subtle check regarding Haven’s humour. “Pleased to meet you, Uranus,” he said, pronouncing the name entirely correctly. “Likewise.” Haven stood up, straightening his jacket, straightening his tie. “I must go.” “Must?” “I am... Compelled to. We must follow our will.” “And thus we chain ourselves.” Haven raised an eyebrow. “Free will isn’t anything of the sort, is it. But best my slaver is myself than another.” “That is true,” nodded the old man. “I have seen many slaves, many masters, and some are harsher and more cruel than others.” The old man stood up and straightened his back. “How old are you?” asked Haven. The old man winked. “Old enough to know he should not say how old. Same time next year?” he asked. Haven found himself nodding. He wondered why he was nodding, although he would indeed be at this Garden next year. “If you are alive,” he said. It was an inquisition, not a cruelty. “Oh I’m Uranus. I am the god of death. I would be surprised if anything can kill me, other than myself.” And with that, he took his cane and slowly walked out of the garden, leaving Haven to ponder the man’s words.