Supercape

So Vermin will sort of act as according to IC. And now, you guys are in the middle of a furious rat war!!!! ROUND 2 29 - Many Mind Rats [17 Left] 7 snared in pipes 25 - Filth - Unharmed 21 - Lob- Bruised, Fatigued, 2 HP 21 - Arc - Injured, 4 HP 15 - Vermin, Unharmed. The Many mind will now try to mind control Filth: A DC 18 Will Save: Will Save vs Mind Control: 1d20+3 8 he is controlled. I am not moving us out of combat as its all a bit wobbly! You have a war between the rat army of Vermin and the Many Mind (physically, the Many Mind is completely outmatched). And you have the upcoming threat of Filth (See IC)

Mr. Murk Mr. Murk frowned. "You misunderstand me, I am afraid. I have lived fifty thousand years, by my best estimate. In that time, it is not a question of if I have done something, but how much of it I have done..." "Whilst I have avoided war as much as I can, and have become skilled in doing so, I have seen war too. And fought. I am blind, but I can sense the souls of men and gods. And in brutal times past, when tribes would scrabble over water and food and, yes, women, driven by cruel gods and still crueller kings, I have fought. Split skulls with stone axes and slit throats with shards of obsidian. Felt the man next to me scream his death howl. Felt hot blood ooze seep from horrific wounds and enrage passionate hearts. Yes, I have seen all that. In such death, life is so magnificently alive..." He brought himself out of his recollections. "As for the codus, itself. I can explain as much as you wish to know. In principle however, there are three overriding rules, if you will. To neither kill nor subject to inhuman torment another signature. To aid by all reasonable measures another signature in escaping such fate. And to inflict no violence on body or soul within the grounds of club Immortus. This is safe haven" he explained. "This is not to say that there are not other smaller principles, but they are of trivial importance, such as flow of monies and charities, sub positions such as treasurer, and so on. But I would not consider them of much, if any, pertinence".

GM Hettie and her thugs stopped dead in their march towards Ratchet. "Go go! Smash their heads in, man!" yelled Ratchet, tearing his hair and dancing from foot to foot with glee at the prospect of Hettie getting her just fate. "Who da hell are you?" grunted Hettie, shifting her hammer. "You from da building?" she asked, suspiciously. It was clear that whilst Hettie was extremely strong, she was not particularly smart. Even her thugs, of less than impressive mental powers themselves, were probably smarter than she was. Although they capitulated to her lead as she was strong. Accordingly, they tried to look tough themselves. Whilst not holding firearms these were strong guys carrying things like tire irons and spanners. The fourth one carried a chainsaw. "If you from da building, you gotta get back. We sort you out, says boss...." mumbled Hettie, full of fumbled and ambiguous diplomacy.

Aye, no problem then! Feel free to post that metal twisting IC!

The Many Mind is a curious beast and we need some Jazz rules for its oddity. What I will do is give it a DC 10 + STR Reflex save (in this case 12 I think, so a DC 22) Reflex. ReflexSave: 1d20+5 15 And say that 1 rat per point fail is caught up in the pipes. In this case, you capture 7 rats in the pipe. This would allow you to beat them to death next round and so on! (PS Could you run me past healing an injury as a free action? Thats seems a bit suspiciously cheese - but I do trust you on that)

Lament Luther had just dropped off when he awoke with a sweaty start. He felt the void, growing more hungry, inside him. He had a day, maybe two, before it started lashing out. "The Hamster was yellow! YELLOW I SAY!" he muttered as he awoke from some surreal nightmare. Why was the hamster yellow? Alas, we shall never know, for it was lost in dreams. "Wolves? I don't believe it!" he said, not happy about the situation. This was a threat, nothing less. He burst out of the door, one sneaker on, and one foot bare, his clothes hanging off him and his whole persona dishevelled. "Whose there, whose there?" he called out.

Rev Rev scratched her head pondering all this stuff about physics and many worlds and time and space and... No. She was lost. She made the heart sign though. That, she did get. "Sounds like you are often to a swell start, kid" she said, encouraging. "Just don't forget to play a bit, yeah? Homework is great and all, but a bit of time on a skateboard never hurt anybody. Well, except for some scar tissue on your knees and elbows. But that's worth it!" she said, full of encouragement.

Rev "Man, that's spooky!" said Rev, fascinated. "Kind of like a rewind button, I guess? Makes your whole life a video game...you can press reset!" she gasped when she started thinking about the ramifications. A part of her was a little scared, or perhaps uncomfortable. "How does it feel?" she asked in response. "I mean, it kind of feels a bit dangerous to me. Or maybe not dangerous at all. If anything goes wrong you can just go back and make sure it doesn't happen?" Thats a lot of power in the hands of a kid...

Starshot Starshot never really liked heights. He had to make sure not to look down. It was an unfortunate trait in somebody who was actually an accomplished climber. He always had to grit his teeth. "They won't cook us" he said, full of determined optimism. "They might not help us, either. But we need to try. There are our best bet. I imagine they have mixed feelings right now. We look like pirates, to their eyes. But we fought on their side. I hope the chief is wise..." He sat down and unslung his weapons, taking off his helmet and running his fingers through his hair. "We have to trust them. Best play..." He put his boots up and waited for comments, or the arrival of the chief.

The Streets of Bedlam City are perfused with gossip and stories. Small tales of small heroics circle round friends and bars… …here are just a few pertaining to the enigmatic Red Rat. Are they true? Or are they bent and twisted by Chinese whispers? Or are they simply urban myths? Maybe we shall never know… The Red Rat, as told by Audrey Hunter, 50, Retail. My husband and I own a store on Root Street. Sure, it gets rough every now and again, when some tweaking junkie comes in demanding money. I got a shotgun under the counter and a baseball bat on the shelf. Thank God I ain’t had to shoot someone. Lot of traffic on Root street corner. Plenty of folks going this way and that all time of night. All sorts of folk, if you get my meaning. Some of them working. If you get my meaning again. Anyway, we heard about the Red Rat. Most folks have, although it’s a load of nonsense, I reckon, for the most part. Soviet super spy, they say. Mutant Rat-woman, they say. Alien body snatcher, they say. Well, we heard plenty. I guess you can pick out enough to make some guesses. Ain’t no mutant, Ain’t no alien. Ain’t no rat, neither. Those folks, like us, who listen to the stories enough. Well, most people think she is some kind of spy. On the run, although who knows from? Maybe it is the Russians. The name would fit. Anyway, people on the run have a habit of ending up in Bedlam. And I guess she fits in just swell. It’s a place where you can lose yourself. Maybe you have to lose yourself. On the run, I reckon. But even if she is hiding, she is still there, you know what I mean? Just pops up, here and there, helping people out. Nobody can make Bedlam safe, not all the time. But its nice to know at least some folk are out there. Makes the villains think twice, I guess. Maybe makes us all sleep just that little bit better. So Tony and I, we were finishing up one night. Must have been two in the morning. Even the drunks have passed out by that time, least for the most part. We get the sound of braking wheels outside. We just look at each other, you know? Get that sixth sense thing. Tony went to get the baseball bat, and looked outside. Four punks, in a stolen car. “Looking for some action!” they said as they barged in. Tony ain’t a young man no more, but he tried to throw them out. Got a kick in his nuts and a boot in his face for that. His nose ain’t been the same since, I swear. They were punks, all of ‘em, with bright red hair. Soon worked out why. Their idea of fun was the setting buildings alight. Just for the thrill of it. Didn’t matter to ‘em if anybody was in or not. I guess they probably preferred it if someone got roasted. Now, we could have been cooked that day. Came darn close. But fortunately, someone had got wind of these punks. And someone had been following them. And that someone was the Red Rat. Silent, she was, just standing at the door whilst the punks started pouring out gas. Wearing a smile and that red jacket of hers. And carrying some guns. Not your regular street ones. This was something else. In the blink of an eye, she fired. Silent, you could barely hear them. Just a little flash, a little sizzle. And she was fast! You could barely follow her. The guns hissed and spat, fast! I don’t know what they were firing, but it wasn’t bullets. The thugs fell to the floor! Zam! Out cold. Like they had been tasered, or something. And there she was, blowing the tops of her pistols. Huh. Now I think about it, I don’t recall them smoking. Like I said, not bullets. Just for effect, I guess. Looked cool. And were just so…scared? And relieved. So that’s my little story. Plenty of those around. Some of them true, like I said. Bedlam ain’t safe, but a few stories like that keeps people a little warmer in a cold city. The Red Brain, as told by Charles Higgins, 18, Internet blogger. I’m got mad internet skills, see. Like, super mad. I can burn the stream and ride the flow. Big style to the supermax. You know, as an awesome internet guy, I get a lot of info storms. Gotta sift through the data web, trying to see the patterns, the holes and the glitches. You can get real then. See the truth as it is. Not some Government cover up. Only way to live. Takes up a lot of my time. My fingers and my brain are my weapons. So I might be a bit on the large size, what with only getting out of my deck to go for a dump. Sometimes I even got to cut corners in that department. Its serous sweat getting out of my chair when I’m jacked in and over thirty stone. My momma keeps telling me to get some sunshine and take some exercise, but what does she know? Well, she treats me good, I suppose. Keeps me in crisps and soda whilst I am cruising the web to the max. To the supermax, actually. Anyway, I get all the cyber gossip. And I was cruising the information highway when I catch this hyper glitch. Some Russians, splicing the FBI hard software. You know, like its real superserious and stuff. Cybersuperserious! I got mad skills, yeah. But, you know, I’m trying to frack their Snizzle, stop them or warn somebody, but I’m cut out. I may have the skills, but I guess they had the better hardware. Cut me out and start frying me. Like, serious circuit smoke. Double circuit smoke, really. Now, on the cyberspace city, there’s this dude. The Red Brain. I mean, smooth like electronic lightning. Zips in through the security traps, icy cold artic frost man. Never seen nothing like it. Just this icon, a red brain. We all heard of him. Nobody knows who he is. Maybe Russian, they say. Some say he hangs out with the Red Rat. Well, I don’t buy that, I mean, sure they are both red but that’s it, yeah? The Red Rat is a girl, anyway. Even if she is super hot. So the Red Brain slicks through cyberspace hyperstabbing counter measures all the while like they weren’t even there. Supercool. Wish I had his rig. Gets the Russians and they like don’t know what hit them. E-fried, man. BAM! Must have smoked their rigs and traced them. Doublejacked their hard drives. Toast! The Red Brain, man. King of cyberspace. Don’t mess, seriously. The Red Ape, as told by Jim “Jimmy” Block, 56 Ain’t that many folks up at five in the morning. Even the scum that litter the streets at night have gone to bed or passed out in the gutter. Almost like a ghost town. We and the crew, we start picking up the garbage. Around Five thirty. Usually meet for a breakfast and a cuppa strong coffee. Maybe three of four coffees. It actually ain’t a bad time to be in Bedlam. The folks at the diner are friendly, and there is a kind of comraderie for us early morning folk. After filling up, we start the rounds. It’s honest work, and the pay reflects how honest it is. We don’t grumble. Well, don’t grumble much. Sometimes we even have a laugh at the things we find. Maybe we might find some thug passed out on the street. Them are sweet days, because we might accidentally step extremely hard on his, or her, face, with an iron shod boot. But every now and again, we find some thugs still out on the prowl. Looking for some mischief or another. And it can be pretty brutal mischief. And sometimes, they get a pretty brutal payback. Heard of the Red Ape? Big ugly thing. Like a cross between a man and a gorilla. Hairy, tall, strong, knuckles on the ground. Some say its actually the Red Rat, but I doubt it. She’s hot. This thing? Yeah, not so much… So, we catch the Red Ape at work. Pounding six thugs to the ground. Never seen something so strong. Flipping them around like they were dolls. Finished ‘em off by picking up the leader, and using him as a club to batter the others. I can still here the bones splintering. Then the Ape, I swear, not wearing a single scratch, looks at us. I’ll always remember this. Now, the Red Ape may be strong as hell, but looks like the brains department are a bit lacking, you understand. So, the Red Ape goes to us. “Bad man get smashed up” with a big grin, like a child who has done something naughty but, you know, is like really happy up. “Me smash bad men” it added, by way of explanation. We just stood there, with our jaws to the floor. So the Red Ape turns around and lumbers off. And then, and then…it did a little dance, a little skip. To celebrate the smashing of bad men, I guess. Don’t know who started it, but we ended up giving a round of applause.

Bloody Mess "Hey ya bozo, even with those sloppy punches, you have a point" agreed the Mess, backing off slightly. He crouched down and gave a mighty big leap into the air, landing, with a little wobble, on a nearby rooftop. "So come and get me, if ya can! Cos you can't punch me up here" he laughed. Then, with a little twitch of his eye, a little spasm of his little finger, he concentrated on Malcolm. He felt the churning blood, and started poisoning it. It wasn't really something he understood or did consciously. He just knew that if he concentrated on someone, he could thin their blood. And whilst he liked a brawl, he also needed to even the odds a bit...

Ok so Mess is going to... Move Action: Jump up to a rooftop Standard Action: Thin blood - Perception range fatigue power, DC 20 Fort

Rev Rev toned down her personality. She was feeling sorry for Laurence and she didn't honestly know if that was a good or a bad thing. Probably a bit of both. "It's ok kid, nothing wrong with being wrong. Sometime's its right" she said, tripping over her own Faux-zen. "Zhu and me felt pretty strange growing up. And I guess things got even stranger. But it worked out all right in the end. Sort of" she said, smiling. "You can tell us, you know. We won't judge..."

GM "How good at that am I? That's my damn job!" laughed Vic. She brought out a note pad and a pen. "Yes sir, no sir. How very interesting sir. Yes, I would love to lick your boots sir. It would be an honour sir. Please tell me how to lick them sir" she said, nodding all the time and pretending to take notes. "How did I do? Eh, I do that all the time to my boss and to boring people I interview but can't offend and have to pretend they are interesting" she muttered, bitter. "And I have also gone undercover and lied. Hey, I'm a reporter! So whats the plan and do I take my baseball bat?"

Starshot "That's a big tree" commented Starshot. Arguably a redundant statement, but he felt it needed to be said anyway. He looked down. Not a fall he would like. He looked up instead. It had a beautiful, simple, and organic architecture that he loved. If he ever took a vacation, he would take it in a tree hut like this. "I'd tell you to mind your step" he told Laark and Soreen. "But I think you already know to do that" he said, a kind of blunted black humour to his voice. "We are in their city now. At their mercy. I don't think we are in danger, but if they do turn on us, we aren't going to just fight our way out of this. No matter how many grenades we have" he said, gravel realism in her voice. "So whatever you do, no violence. No aggression. Nothing that can even be misinterpreted. Not unless we have our backs to the wall and are bleeding..." With that, he carried on up the tree.

Starshot Starshot was taking the time to enjoy the scenery. As far as he could tell Kurabanda were friendly. He would not yet call them passive, for they were armed and had clearly fought hard and true against the pirates. But he was feeling relaxed about it. He might even learn from them. He was ever eager to do so, and had learned a hundred, a thousand tricks about hunting from as many species and tribes. "Rest is good" And so it was, he leaned against a tree and breathed. He pondered sleep and the risks associated with it. But there was a risk in not sleeping, too. Energy needed to be conserved, and when he could sleep, he should. The same for the rest of them...

Lament That sure hits the mark...groaned Luther inside when the moon (and the interpretation) came up. A big black void of a moon. He didn't much like the sound of deception and illusion either. But was it him, or her? "Huh. I don't much like the sound of that. Pretty as the moon can be" he sighed, leaning back and finishing the berry pie. "I guess I got to be careful. Or folks have got to be careful of me. Maybe both. After all, I am the great ZOMBO!" he smiled with a grin full of teeth. "You know, my whole show is illusion. I hope that's what it means..." But if this tarot has any meat to it, then I doubt it is... "Mystery woman there...I guess there are layers to her, too. I'm guessing I gotta peel back the masks, one by one. Like you would slice an onion..." he muttered to himself, pondering the dark night. "As for dreams, I would dearly like to have some. But I'm at that black pit where I'm bone tired and sweating awake at the same time. I gotta feeling its a long night. Maybe I should get some sleep. Or at least try to..." he concluded, getting up. "Let me know if anything changes, huh? I'm just next door, and even if I do doze off, I'm guessing it wont take much to wake me..."

Lament "I can do that" replied Luther with considerable turmoil. He felt like a moth drawn to a flame. And he was going to get burned. He placed his hands on the deck. He knew the principles of Tarot reading. He just wasn't sure he actually believed in it. He just utilised the mythology in his stage show. He didn't actually do magic. Was it even real? "What happens between the woman and me?" he asked, solemnly, indicating their mystery woman fast asleep. He coughed a bit. "Darn. That sounded all wrong. Like I'm a damn stalker. That's not how I meant it...." he muttered. "How does the woman change me?" he offered, trying to refine it a little.

Mr. Murk "You would do well to not trust authority" agreed Mr. Murk. "And just as well not to distrust it either" he added, more softly. "I wonder however, if you confuse a code with authority. This is not the will of another imposed on you, is it? Maybe think to the the trenches..." he proposed, closing his own eyes to remind himself of the smell of war. "Your comrades in arms, and you. There is a code, is there not? Not signed in ink, but signed in blood. It is perhaps not explicit, but is still there. To protect one another, even at peril to ones own life. To not leave a man or woman behind. To honour each other with sweat and bravery..." he suggested. "And those that break the code...there is consequence, is there not? They are no longer trusted. Outcasted. Branded. Sometimes even killed?" he asked. "The code is different in content, and explicit in nature, but it is only a code, after all...."

Ok so I will have Steam maxed out next month, so posting early to get those comments and suggestions in. Very interesting building a PP 105 PC! If anyone has a good idea for a catchphrase or even theme tune, I am all ears! I am not a fun of over-defining a PC to start with, I prefer a more organic approach. But if you have musings on the "as advertised by freakshow" thing? I had a kind of black, Tim-Burton kind of comedy vibe going on in my head with that. Curveball Power Level: 7 (105/105) Unspent Power Points: 0 Trade-Offs: None In Brief: Four armed mutant baseball girl Alternate Identity: Jasmine "Jazzy" Rita Jagger Birthplace: San Francisco Residence: Freedom City Occupation: Commercial Endorsements Affiliations: None Family: Jimmy Jagger, Brother (Mutated Coast Guard), Uncle Billy "Boomer" Bootwell (Boxing Coach) Age: 21 Apparent Age: 21 Gender: Female Ethnicity: (Mainly) Caucasian Height: 5'7" Weight: 68 Kgs Eyes: Blue-Green Hair: Short Blonde History: Jazzy and her twin Brother, Jimmy were blossoming professional athletes (she liked baseball, he liked swimming). At the age of 20, just beginning to make a little headway in a highly professional field (they were on route to being professional sportsmen/women, although would fall short of Olympic elite status), they both were hit by a Darwin-X outbreak in East Berlin that claimed the lives of a few dozen, including their parents. Jazzy and Jimmy survived, their bodies adapting to their field of sports. Jimmy became aquatic, able to breathe underwater and swim incredibly fast; although his skin turned grey and he looked pretty ugly afterwards (hairless, and finned). Jazzy grew an extra pair of arms and found an ability to throw baseballs at incredible speed. Such mutations disqualified them from any professional sports career. Jimmy turned his mutation to good use, although bitter about his appearance. He has become an extremely valued coastguard, and has saved countless lives already. Unfortunately, Jazzy had a less overtly useful mutation. What good was a batting and bowling if she couldn't play sports? She managed to get a little local fame as a "freak on TV", doing advertising, and even got a little bit of a cult following (with some weird stalkers with it). She wasn't exactly happy with this, so when uncle "Boomer", a boxing coach, suggested she take up the superhero business, she jumped! Personality & Motivation: Jazzy is a competitive person (she had to be, being an ex-athlete) but doesn't trash talks, she actually really respects and admires athletes. She has a lingering bitterness that her dream career got torn away from her, and she does harness this anger from time to time. She likes physical activity and exercise, and can be a bit obsessive about it. She has developed a bit of a comradery with other freaks and weirdo's. She particularly likes campaigning for the living and dead victims of Darwin-X. Part of being a superhero is simply a job; more fame, more money, more sponsorship. But aside from all of that, she feels it is good in that it turns her condition to a positive use; and besides, it helps others when all is said and done. Powers & Tactics: Jazzy was always athletic, but her physical abilities are slightly improved, in particular she is a lot stronger than she looks (although not superhuman). An obvious mutation is the fact she has grown an extra pair of arms under her normal ones (although on close inspection her "normal" arms are an inch above normal height in placement). Her arms are no adjusted to provide incredible throwing power and speed, although only for light objects. Her eyes have equally adapted, and she is able to see at incredibly long distances (all the better for long distance throws!) Curveball arms herself with four baseball bats strapped to her costume, often holding more than one at a time. She also has a bandolier with a half-dozen baseballs ready to throw at skulls for a knockout. She fights in a straightforward, even reckless manner, charging in, throwing stuff, and swinging her bats. Complications: Pop! Whilst Curveballs mutation is generally helpful, her incredible throwing arm physiology means her arms easily pop out of their sockets. Impact or falling damage can particularly do this, but other effects, even things like punching an impervious object / target, may also do that. The other Left: Her throwing is amazing thanks to an adapted arm and brain, but as a side effect, curve ball pretty much always gets left and right mixed up, and never admits to this... Morning Stiffy: Curveball wakes up with very stiff joints in her arms. She usually needs an hour of stretching to get herself going. Physiotherapy or medical treatments can cut this down. This happens even if she gets knocked out. Reckless: Young and foolish, Curveball is impatient and reckless, and will charge in without properly assessing situations or noticing pitfalls (potential or actual). Sponsored by: Curveball doesn't have a job. She lives by making kooky commercials for sports equipment or other stuff. She doesn't really have the skills or wit to capitalise on this, so whilst not poor she is not well off either, and is often called to make strange commercials. If on TV she will often turn around and try to get sponsorship or the like. She is actually quite famous in a Z-list way. A frequent request of her is to write her signature with all four limbs at the same time. Abilities: 2 + 8 + 6 + 0 + 0 + 4 = 20 Strength: 12/20 (+5) Dexterity: 18/20 (+5) Constitution: 16/20 (+5) Intelligence: 10 Wisdom: 10 Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 14 + 14 = 28 Initiative: +9 Attack: +7 Defense: +7,+4 Flat Footed Grapple: +12 (+14 Using All four arms) Knockback: -3 Saving Throws: 2 + 2 + 5 = 9 Toughness: +7 (+5 Con, +2 Protective Vest) Fortitude: +7 (+5 Con, +2) Reflex: +7 (+5 Dex, +2) Will: +5 (+5) Skills: 12 PP = 44 R Acrobatics 8 (+13) Skill Mastery Bluff 4 (+6) Climb 6 (+11) Skill Mastery Intimidate 4 (+6) Knowledge [Pop Culture] 2 (+2) Knowledge [Streetwise] 2 (+2) Notice 4 (+4) Perform [Acting] 4 (+6) Sense Motive 4 (+4) Stealth 4 (+9) Swim 6 (+11) Feats: 12 PP Acrobatic Bluff Ambidexterity Bounce the Ball [Applies Ricochet 1 thrown attacks with balls and similar] Equipment 2 Evasion 2 Improved Aim Improved Initiative 1 Precise Shot 2 Skill Mastery 1 (Acrobatics, Climb, Stealth, Swim) Takedown Attack 1 Equipment: 2PP = 10EP Four Baseball Bats (Strike 2, Mighty, Thrown, Multiple Weapon 3) [7 EP] Undercover Shirt (Protection 2, Subtle) [3 EP] A half dozen baseballs ready for throwing [0 EP] Powers: 2 + 14 + 1 + 3 + 3 = 23 Additional Limbs (2 Extra Arms) [2 PP] "Four armed" Enhanced Traits 14 (Strength +8, Dexterity +2, Constitution +4) [14 PP] "Physiological boost" Speed 1 (10mph) [1 PP] Super Senses 3 (Extended Normal Vision 3 [x1000/-2 Per 2 Miles]) [3 PP] Super Strength 2 (Feats: Throwing Mastery 2, Flaws: Limited [-2], Applies only to throwing distance for objects that would have been light anyway) [3 PP] "Perfect throwing arms" Throwing distances for light load…(133lbs/14 Kgs) Drawbacks: None DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 20 Tough Damage Baseball Bat Touch DC 22 Tough Damage Thrown Baseball Ranged DC 22 Tough Damage Thrown Paperclip Ranged DC 17 Tough Damage Abilities 20 + Skills 12 + Feats 13 + Powers 23 + Combat 28 + Saves 9 = 105

IC inspiration is up! (feel free to mine that for further questions if you wish to narrate sifting through the psionic effusion) Arc is up

GM As the blood trickled down Lobisomem's throat, the psychic power of the Many mind fused with her own... ....flashes of memory.... the memory of rats in the sewer...before everything changed.... ....the King of Rats, Vermin...to whom all must bow....for he is the demon king...bound to Filth... ...then, the Doctor....his chemicals and toxins poured onto the rats.... ...many died....many were worse.... ...but one changed....the first of the many....the Many-mind... ...A disease that spread...and every infected rat changed too... ...and now...together they formed something beyond human intelligence....if together... ...but apart...they were only as before...the rat...and nothing more... All these thoughts dripped into Lobisomem's head via psionic infusion. All these thoughts, and more. She got a sense of the Many Mind - a new mutant species of rat, that could psionically boost the mental powers of others of its species nearby. In large numbers, their intelligence and power was extraordinary. But as their numbers dwindled, or they spread apart, so did the strength of the commune mind. These thoughts flowed through her brain, as yet another mutant rat snapped in half, rent asunder by her claws...

Even fatigued, thats not a toughness save they can make, so squelsh goes another mind rat. I will post the insipiration memory in IC. ROUND 2 29 - Many Mind Rats [17 Left] 7 Are on the floor, 10 more in the pipes. 25 - Filth - Unharmed 21 - Lob- Bruised, Fatigued, 2 HP 21 - Arc - Injured, 4 HP 15 - Vermin, Unhamred

GM "An apprentice! Cool, I like the sound of that! Get me out of this hell hole...ah...um...I mean, well....you know. Something other than hell hole. Ahhh...never mind. No offence!" she garbled her words. Vic breathed deeply, and took off her cap. She was beautiful, in a way, and had a tomboy, androgynous type of look as evidenced by her short bob haircut. "I feel better already. Well, as better as I could hope to feel. I'm still a mess" she admitted. She sighed and threw away her packet of ciggies. "So what's the plan, Red? I mean, I hope you aren't going to set the place alight with hellfire or anything. Problems might be solved, I guess. But burning people alive isn't part of my deal..."

Rev "Sure, sure" answered Rev, picking herself up. Damn, flying is difficult with just one arm... "Look, I get it, you know? Like, buddies. A clan. A team. Something like that. But we didn't swing first. He did. Now, I know you guys didn't start swinging. Thanks for that. So I'm not here to beat you up" "I will however, grind that phone to dust and force feed it to you with a dash of tabasco sauce if you don't put it away and stop calling your buddies for back up. That would be super uncool" she asked politely. Or at least as politely as she could.