Supercape

Mr Murk "Vodka?" offered Mr Murk as Comrade Frost arrived. Whilst Murk viewed the chilly Russian as a cold customer, he also considered him in some ways the most valuable member of the Codus. Comrade Frost appeared cynical and critical of the Codus, and that was precisely why he was so valuable. He scrutinised it carefully and found the loopholes and dangers. Mr Murk felt strongly that the Codus was better present than absent. But this was an aggregate opinion of net risks. And Comrade Frost was invaluable in refining those risks to sway towards the positive rather than the negative. "I find myself drinking Gin these days. Been in London too long" he said, his milky blind eyes not looking at Comrade Frost although he could sense him perfectly well. "You will let me know when the timing is right for a Moscow club, won't you?" Mr Murk had been in much chillier climates. But he could sense the cool. "Now I think about it, you didn't whip up that snow last week did you?"

GM "Men like me?" scoffed Metal Head. "What has me being a man got to do with anything? You don't even know me. I was born from brutality, and I was tempered to iron. Do you know what lies behind my mask? Maybe my father burnt my face on the oven. Maybe my mother beat me with a rod" he said, firm and contemptuous. "Your ridiculous ignorant taunts reveal you for a fool, nothing more. An ignorant fool. And you are twice foolish if you think I do not mean what I say. I do not make threats and then retract them..." So said, he backed up his words with action. He threw Arrowhawk's axe, hard, fast and with horrible accuracy...

So reaction throw: Throws Axe: 1d20+11 31 gah! This guy has rolled incredibly. Thats a critical, so DC 26 Tough Save.

GM "Phone! You got it!" said Zyte. His fingers and eyes could handle a phone camera quicker than a super speedster on zoom. And he was catching the whole thing. Bonfire whipped in through the bars and swiped the mask from Vazquez, who looked crestfallen. Even, for a moment, angry. But then she seemed to deflate somewhat, her trance balloon popped by fear. As for Bonfire, for a moment he felt the whispers of longing in his fingers. For a moment, he felt the lingering urge to plant the bony skull over his face. But it subsided as quickly as it emerged. There were the faintest whispers, if he strained. The mask was a corrupting influence if one held it, but it would take time to erode his psyche. "Bravo! Got it!" applauded Zyte, quite happy with the proceedings. "But...you know. We really need to get Chill Pill in on this. He wants to be a hero, you know. I got you stealing all the limelight..." he added, considering the broader picture. "And we better call AEGIS and get this thing in some proper facility!" added Gibbons, rather frightened. "Man, I need a donut!"

In that case ill proactively roll initiative! Initiative: 1d20+10 23

GM That got Gibbons attention. He almost dropped his donut. "What? Level a city block?" he gasped. "That's serious!" he said, as if this insight was a marvel of deductive reasoning. "And you say somebody want to steal it! Very serious!" he added, refining his wisdom on the matter. The thought of commendation was most pleasing. "Let me take you to it!" And so, followed as ever by Zyte Guyst... There it was, safely locked up with a variety of guns, drugs, stolen goods and a bottle of cologne (for some reason). The officer in charge of lock up was caressing it, enthralled. She was a middle aged lady of hard mind and hard body, committed to her job, but with that creeping sense of burn out splintering her commitment. "Vaquez!" blurted Gibbons. "Put that back! Its dangerous!" Vasquez looked back, someone glazed of spirit. "But...its beautiful!" she replied. "And lovely!...so strong!" she said. And behind the Iron bars of the lock up, she started to put it on... "Damn, why didn't you let me bring my camera!" complained Zyte...bringing out his mobile phone....

GM The Nose and the Hunters, not wishing to fight where they might actually get hurt, but keen to get a refund, scuttled off. The Nose could do exactly what he said - track, and at speed. He directed them as they ran full speed away, after the poor woman. Metal Head backed off more slowly in that direction, blocking Arrowhawk from giving chase down the small alley. He held his knife and her axe in either hand. "I am competent. Like you. It was you who disposed of my sniper, Mr. Shades, I see now. I wondered who got the best of him, for he is not easily bested" he said, voice slow and confident. "I have no wish to kill you, although I have no compunction against doing so. The world is, broadly, better for your presence. You contribute. I deal with vile circumstance, and profit from it. But I would only kill those who are parasites on society. Or those who get in my way..." he said, grimly, hefting the axe. "This night is over. I can smell your blood. Go away, head held high that you tried. And Bedlam will be without one miserable homeless woman who does nothing but drain society..."

The Nose and the Hunters will scuttle away. Tempted by $, motivated by fear. Round 3: 18 - Metal Head, Bruised, Injured 17 - Arrowhawk, Bruised x3, Injured x3 1/0 Nose/Hunters [4] running Metal Head will back off (30' away), speak, and ready a Throw Axe action if Arrowhawk attacks or moves forward.

GM Metal head grunted, and you could almost smell the blood. He suit was armoured, to a degree, but it was nothing that a well swung axe would not part. And it cut in hard. But he was a big man, and a tough man. And he did not flinch more than a fraction. "Get" "Out" "Of" "Here" He said, slowly, not turning, but clearly indicating the hunters and the Nose. "Find the woman. Kill her. Slowly. And I will refund your fees!" Metal head slammed his hand on to the axe still in his shoulder before Arrowhawk could take it out. "Nice axe. I'll take it..." he grunted, twisting his body and wrenching with his arm, and pulling the handle out from Arrowhawk. He took a few steps back, fully rotating, and spinning round with her axe in one hand and his huge knife in the other.

GM "Without a camera...why....I...I...." Zyte was rarely short for words. This was a remarkable occasion that would surely be mulled over by media academics of the future. And so...inside the Police Station Detective Frank Gibbons was nearing retirement and was eating donuts. You could tell he was eating donuts because firstly, there was a donut on his desk half eaten. Secondly, he had donut crumbs over his uniform, and thirdly, his magnificent portly physique was testament to a long and noble history of donut eating. "Yes...what can I do for you?" he asked, his eyes glazed. "A superhero, is it? Yes, how interesting, yes, yes" he yawned and pulled out a pen and paper. "What's up this time? Doctor Otaku created a giant four armed robot woman?" he said, trying to pull himself into some semblance of feigned interest. Zyte came rushing in, apparently without his camera. He looked uncomfortable, like a kid having his security blanket torn away. "What happened, did I miss anything?" "Oh great. Its Zyte Guyst...." sighed Detective Gibbons, despairing of his day.

The intimidate he can automatically resist. The damage, however: Tough save vs Axe: 1d20+6 19 As discussed due to danger and Bedlam and axe and not killing, lethal damage: he is Bruised and Injured Round 2: 18 - Metal Head, Bruised, Injured 17 - Arrowhawk, Bruised x3, Injured x3, 2 HP 1 - Nose 0 - Hunters [4] Metal Head will try a disarm attack: Disarm Arrowhawk: 1d20+10 26 Bam! Opposed rolls please: You are facing an unarmed disarm (As he is trying to actually take the axe), so Opposed Disarm: 1d20+4 24!!!

GM The Metal Headed Man noticed the axe, and gave the slightest of nods. Maybe it was Bushido. But he didn't fight like a Samurai, and didn't wield a Katana. He moved quickly, very quickly. And he was strong and big. And he knew how to handle a knife. As he pulled it back, there was a click sound, and from the edges sprung a horrible concoction of serrated blades. This was a wicked, nasty knife, designed to be wicked and nasty. "I see you like slashing tyres" he said, the air still with the moment. The moonlight, predictably, glinted of the knife. "I like slashing too..." he said, and lunged forward, fast, powerful, accurate....

Initiative: 1d10+10 18! I am giving Nose a nominal Init of 1 and the hunters an nominal initiative of 0, neither of whom will be reacting this round. The low inititaive is because they are essentially going WTF? (and because I am lazy). Round 1 18 - Metal Head, Unharmed 17 - Arrowhawk, Injured x2, Bruised x2, 3 HP 1 - The Nose 0 - Hunters [4] Metal Head will try a move action Feint: Move Action feint: 1d20+2 9 And then an unshifted stab: Stabby: 1d20+11 27 Ouchy Ouchy! Damage 6 effect (Tough 21)

Opposed by: well...

GM The Nose sniffed around, as might be expected given the monstrosity situated mid-face, and his appropriate name. "She hath Gone! Gone! But the Nose can findth her! Yes he can! Oh yes he can!" "Come on then!" answered one of the hunters, feverish with antici...pation. "Guys a goddamn freak...." muttered another under his breath, quietly. He could not look at the Nose, and one could not blame him. The giant organ seemed to attract ones gaze and it was a devil of a job to distract oneself from it. "Gentlemen, the Nose is on the trail" said the Metal faced man, moving from his stillness. His voice was low and smooth, like oil being poured over rusty metal. "I suggest we continue the entertainment of the night" he said politely but with an insidious firmness. "Sure thing! Time to rid the world of another parasite!" said a hunter keenly, taking out a magazine from his gun and clipping it back into place theatrically, just like in the movies. And so the men climbed into the two pick up trucks. Except the Metal Faced Man, who once again paused, quite still. "Gentlemen, it appears we have a saboteur" he said, quite cold. Fast, so very fast, he spun around, looking at the street.... "If I find her, Ill gut her, and gut her good..." he said, bluntly, pulling out a knife and walking obliquely towards Arrowhawk. It was not a walk on target, nor did he look precisely at her. But Arrowhawk had a feeling. The Metal Headed man could see her...and was intent on his promise.

Sure can but lets give Vorik a chance to chip in

She isn't but (but that would have been awesome!) The clay people are very very good mimics physically but actually have rather blunted mental scores and a blunted personality; they cannot mimic peoples personality very well. They are essentially dull. Lizzie Blush is actually rather dull of intellect, but has a cunning way of manipulating people with her lipstick and winning personality! She is just a minor character!

GM "Yeah, well, it wasn't loaded anyway" bluffed Mr. Brick, trying to maintain some credibility. "I am sure we can talk business!" he said, steeling some calm into his manner and voice. Miss Blush hugged him in an attempt to capitalise on the situation. Mr. Brick did not resist. "Sure, sure, I heard about Vision Inc. A man in my position knows things, you see" he said, painting a grin onto his mouth. "You do some stuff with chemicals and stuff, right? Sure, chemicals and stuff. Interesting, we should do business, you know!" "Here at Autonomous Living, we have state of the art buildings, you see! Top of the range! You won't by better!" he said proudly. "Maybe I can construct a super powered Headquarters for you? I mean, I'll give you a twe---ah...ten percent discount! Glad to be of public service, you see!" he continued, airily. "But I am afraid I don't know what exactly happened at Vision Inc. I didn't have any part to play in it, I know that much...."

I am not entirely sure it would be the same thing? Blast is damage, this represents being able to throw things long distances? Also. Blast doesn't need someone to pick an object up (a move action)? To put it another way, lets take out the Super Strength Power and just have throwing mastery 2 feat. Mechanically this would allow a thrown attack +7 attack, +7 Damage. The Super Strength power (without limitations) just adds in the ability to throw stuff further. And the Super Strength with limitations to throwing means cant lift heavier stuff, no grapple bonus, or destruction bonus or save vs disarm bonus etc? I am not sure it makes things complicated myself, as its just shifting the distance chart two places for light object distances. However, if its a problem, Ill just drop Super Strength and keep the throwing feat (and throw the spare PP somewhere else).

We have AEGIS affiliated characters already so I thought that was OK. If not, I am happy to rewrite the concept?

For this A few notes: 1. Mr Murk only cameoing in this. 2. Long tracts on philosophy, ethics, and law encouraged. Especially if dry and tedious. This means I am mainly going to be throwing things for the three PCs to debate carefully and will give a lot of space for this. Which means please nudge me when you want to scene cut and propel forward. (PvP debate is encouraged - as opposed to frank PvP combat!) 3. There will be a lot of Globetrotting here. Wales, London, Belgium, Hong Kong (at least!)

March 25th, 2018 Club Immortus, London... Late Evening Mr. Murk awaited patiently. He was a patient man. He had all the time in the world, and quite possibly longer. And yet, whilst things were not urgent, he felt the need to act. Something had gone missing, and that something was important. Not merely because that something happened to be an apparently immortal woman encased in ice in a hill in Wales, but because he could forsee some of the web of possibilities that had been wrapped up in this act. It disturbed him. The rules of the Codex Immortus were far from perfect, he knew, and must always be examined - not just by him, but by wise minds of its members. But he was, for the most part, glad that they were there. They had been used positively from time to time. He was not sure this was one of those times...not sure at all. So he had sent for Voin and Comrade Frost for help. Dreanought too, was intimately mixed up in this, but he would need awakening...it would be about now, by his timekeeping. He remembered their favourite drinks and favourite foods, and had arranged for them to be prepared. He knew, after all, when they would be arriving. For himself, he drank some Gin and tonic. For now, at least. He had a Pinot Noire and Chicken salad waiting, but he confessed to himself he had no particular thirst or appetite today...

GM And so it was... Morgen the Scarred went back to sleep, awaiting days of wonder to come. Her body entombed in Eldrich Ice. Y Dderwen went wandering the lands merry for the most part, and yet, as Men and their wonders grew, he became ever more sad, and wondered what he was protecting. His story continued for many many turns, his cudgel and vines employed by the Vanguard to come, until eventually he withdrew from the world in uncertainty. And Dreadnought, the Giant blown to the land by the Sky-Maidens, he once again slumbered in the hills of Wales, for thousands of years... Until... ~ Fin ~

GM Y Dderwen nodded sagely, contemplating. Like most wise men (or women), he could look wise and contemplative even when he was thinking, for instance, about doing the washing up or taking out the trash. Morgen was studying everything and more. He face looked a little sad. "In all these cycles, the world has not changed very much, has it? I have outslept my tribe, but the wonders of days to come are yet to arrive. We do not know the Gods more now, than before" She took a deep breath in. "I must sleep some more. If I can....there is little left of the last age of Ices, but what remains of that spirit, I shall use" she said with determination. "Giant, I trust you have all the answers you came for. Perhaps we shall see each other again. If not, I must thank you again for your skyborn arrival" she said, nodding deeply.

For stuff 20 Questions Reputations HellQ Guide Entry