Supercape

GM Earl gave a lopsided grin. "Cos I am crazy" he started, then tapped Mannequin's hard ceramic case. "And because of this..." "My brain may be half-fried, but I still know my chemistry. Super powered masonry ceramics. And Mannequin. This looked like a good piece fit" he said. "I don't know if I am right, but I'm right, aren't I?" he said, with a wild smirk. "You must have spent months, years, probably, on that body of yours. Used and discarded a ton of materials, yeah? Emphasis on discarded. Somebody or something went scavenging, is my guess...." he explained. "So now with all the spooksville going on at the site, I figured you were the man" he concluded, happily. The block of blue material crumbled some more, and abruptly, a face appeared on one side. A broad approximation of a face anyway. Like a blind man doing his best mould of what he could feel. "the...man...." it gurgled as an echolalia. "Whoooa! It never did that before!" gasped Earl.

Starshot There was no universal translator to hand, so bar some telepathic communication, this was a matter for communication without words, "Peace" he said. Reflexively. It was for himself, not them. To get himself in the mind frame after the flurry of brutality. He was unarmed, and thankful he was. He kept his arms open and down, and made not the slightest indication of aggression. "Starshot"...he pointed at himself. "Laark....Soreen....Peace...." he explained again. He bent to one knee, awaiting the beginnings of contact.

Rev "An evening of cartoons and tantrums eh? Let's hope the kid don't have laser vision or something" sighed Rev, climbing out of the car. "Still, its some pocket money, I guess. Which I need" Her feelings about kids were mixed. For starters, she was not entirely sure she could have any, which was something she tried not too hard to think about. At seventeen, she didn't want any of course. But that was different from not being able to have any ever. She neither disliked kids nor particularly liked them. Or, to be more accurate, she liked larking around with them for a bit, but looking after them for an evening was something that made her gears grind. "Anyway, I hope you got some pretty sparkles in you bag of tricks" she said to Zhu. "Keep the kid entertained! I can look after the crisps and candy. Maybe roast some marshmellows on my pinky..." She had dressed in a tank top and jeans and sneakers. Because Rev pretty much always wore a tank top, jeans, and sneakers.

Could you throw me a straight INT roll to spot something in the photographs. DC 15

GM "Snakes, dogs, you name it, we have it. And I bet its all coming from that their house. He ain't just selling steak and pork, you know? Snake meat. At least twice, and by accident. And blood. If you happen to have a forensic scientist in the boot of your care, I'd love to know what type of blood" she sighed. "Someone called the police. It went away. The detective said he had a migraine and has been on sick leave since. That's all I could find. Sorry" she apologised. "I've been sitting here watching the place the last twelve hours. I'd kill for a burger right now. Except not from that joint. Took plenty of pictures. A couple of suspicious faces...." she said, pondering the last half day. "But I reckon know I have a real life sexy demon witch babe to help, we can make some progress, huh? I'm just disappointed you don't have a tail. That would have been cool. And hot. Cool and hot. yeah...."

Ok so I think its some crazy threeway action! Whatever happens, its initiative time! Initiative: 1d20 12 for the many mind, with mysterious Init bonus is 29! Initiative: 1d20+5 25 for Filth Initiative: 1d20+13 15 for King Vermin

Gather Information: Arcanum is a magazine. About magic. And its full of rubbish. Arcane Lore: Lemuria was an ancient snake civilization (The Lemurian snake people, who were cruel sorcerers) that predated man. It is possibly linked with some of the Aztec and Incan snake worship religions or gods. The civiilization is rumoured to exist in remnants in hidden places in the world, and there are magical artifacts, ruins, and spells that linger in this world.

Rev "Stay there, handsome" ordered Rev. She kept the Posh thug wrapped up in her extended left arm. And then her arm fell off. It contracted a little, to wrap most fully around the brute, but was clearly quite detatched from Rev. "And you thought I was 'armless, didn't you?" she added, with a wink. With that, the soles of he sneakers blew right off, and her jeans and sneakers shrivelled up, on fire. A blast of furious jet had exploded from her feet, and it propelled her like a streak of lightning across the bowling hall. "Ow!" she complained as she collided into some trash cans and masonry when she exploded out of the door. Not so easy missing one arm... "You! Idiots!" she shouted at the two escaping brutes. "Come back here! I just want to talk! Or maybe violently crack your skulls together a little bit!"

Move action: Detatching her left arm Free action: Maintaing the bound status on Posh Standard action: Jets! Flying out of the ally and above Baby / Ginger. Free Action: Speak!

GM "Snakes alive! You really are red!" declared Vic, the cigarette falling out of her mouth. "I mean...uh....thank's for coming. And...uh....you are red! I mean, really red. Kinda cute" she stammered, picking up her cigarette and putting it back in her mouth. Vic got out of her beat up car and kept her baseball cap low. She appeared to be a fan of baseball, because Jessica spied a baseball bat on the passenger seat. One might suspect it was there to hit skulls rather than baseballs. "I'm Vic Vaquez" she continued, with a South American accent. "I work for Arcanum magazine. Its trash, but its a job" she said, a little ashamed. "Every now and again, I get wind of something that's spooky. And usually, it ain't. I try to write it up as spooky, but its a load of bull" "That" she said, pointing to Morgan's Meats. "Is not. A butcher selling snake meat. A butchers shop built on top of a Lemurian ruin. Not to mention rumours of hell hounds roaming at night and some red skinned she devil summoning Beelzebub under moonlight. Uhhh...no offence..." she explained, her defiance melting a little at her foot in mouth last point.

Feel free to make a preamble investigation into Arcanum magazine or even Vic Vaquez. Gather Information or Pop Culture would do.

ooc for this

Feb 3rd 2017, Early Morning On the outskirts of Freedom City... Where does a city end? It was hard to tell. But wherever it was, Morgan's Meats was right on the edge. That hazy place where the city drifts into the country, to the south east. It had a kind of sleepy air to it. Nothing much happened. Usually nothing much happened. But when it did happen, like today, it really happened. In a beat up old car, smoking cheap cigarettes, Vic Vazquez waited. She was a tallish woman, dressed in unassuming clothes, running hear and a baseball cap. She had olive skin and dark hair, and had that air of South America about her. If one looked at her closely, one could tell she spent long hours at the gym, giving her a muscular or even squat appearance. Vic was watching Morgan's Meats intently, behind dark sunglasses. And taking pictures with her camera. And waiting for Jessica Witchblood to arrive. She had judged the fledging demon best person to call. Hell, the police wouldn't believe her. And if they did, they wouldn't be of any help. Vic worked for Arcanus Arcanum magazine, dedicated to exposing and explaining eldritch forces. It was sometimes right on points of history and occultism, but rarely if ever right on points of real magic. Although Vic was the exception. She knew a thing or two...

Starshot Starshot slapped the knife away. "Its been a long road here" he grunted back at the Pirate Captain. "Blazing sands and dark caves. I've got blisters and sweat. I fought beasts with longer fangs than you. So don't think that little blade scares me. You aren't fighting a bound pig" he explained, grim. "You're facing me. And I'm going to dismantle you. Like a surgeon" he snapped, shouting his pure confidence and determination straight into the captains face. With that, he lunged like a snake, smacking his cybernetic fist into Pirate jaw...

Move Action: Startle Startle as Move: 1d20+10 16 Standard Action: Nothing to complex (again!) an unmodified attack: Punch pirate: 1d20+12 27

GM At this, Early became somewhat coy. "Its some, like, new building development North of Freedom. Green fields, pleasant non urban landscape, that kind of thing. Top of the range stuff. All cutting edge technology, and building materials, like this stuff..." he pointed at the ceramics. "Its only half built yet. But I heard some bad rumours. Workplace accidents and injuries. That kind of stuff. People don't want to work there no more. But they are frantic, you know, the investors. And...here's the really spooky thing. I guess they only have half the workers their now, on major hazard pay, yeah, but still only half what they had..." He looked frightened. "And the damn thing's getting built in half the time!"

Mr. Murk Mr. Murk reached out his hand, concentrating, and flowing his psychic senses outwards, rather than inwards. "This...is a creature of dreams...of soul....it is both real and unreal....born from strange times and stranger dimensions. Beware! For it comes from the deepest hearts of men!" he declared, boldly. With effort, he extended his senses outwards, encasing the creature in a shimmering haze, bringing its soul into the real world for all to see. "BEHOLD!" he said again, full of drama. And the concentration and effort required... ...made him neglect the mundane and pragmatic. For he did an excellent job of presenting his jaw to incumbent assault....

Tough Save: 1d20+6 12 lets go for a complete knockout, staggered, and an HP?

GM After prodding it this way, and poking it that, aided and abetted by the splendid facilities of Vision, Inc, and even (slightly) by Earl, who did seem to know a little bit about physics and materials scientists (and might indeed by the architect by training he said he was), Mannequin was able to refine his understanding of the material. And it did seem remarkably like the material that he himself was constricted of. Just...reactive. It was extremely resistant to impact force, bending like rubber, but still very hard to tear or burn or anything else. And it seemed, it a non-sentient way, alive...not that it could replicate or metabolise, but that it responded in a primitive reflexive way to the environment around it. "What did I tell you? What did I tell you?" yelled Earl, pulling his tattered grey hair. "It's spooky, right? I mean...real spooky!"

GM "Just this stuff...man...." said the wild man, pointing at the blue ceramics. "I mean....look at it!" The blue ceramics remained blue. And ceramic. "Crazy, huh? Oh..by the way, I'm Earl. Earl Redwood. I'm, like, an architect. Or at least, I was, till, like, I got fired and stuff. And hit the bottle. But I'm good now. Got a whole new perspective on life!" he said, smiling keenly. "I mean, look, right?" The blue ceramics remained ceramic. And blue. But then.... They wobbled, foamed, and melted spontaneously. A few bubbles appeared, popped, and the materials were still again. "Crazy, huh?" said the enthusiastic Earl.

GM The man burst into Mannequins office, propelled by wild enthusiasm. "Hey! Its you! I mean...holy cheesecakes...its really you! With all your arms and legs and everything...wow! You got no nose, you know that? Or eyes? Holy cheesecakes...no eyes! How do you eat? Man...no cheesecakes!" he said sadly. Rambling slowing, but not ablated, he plonked the box infront of Mannequin and opened it. "Look at that! Spooky huh!" he declared as he revealed some crumbling blue-cyan ceramics. Or masonry. It was not quite clear. It was crumbling, and it was blue. That was for sure. Quite a nice shade, actually. "I mean...can you dig it? I mean...you probably can't right? Can't dig this stuff out of the ground. I mean, its not natural is it? Spoooooky!" he said, throwing his arms around wildly. "What do you think? I guessed maybe you made it. Or are made of it. Or both...."

Knowledge Arcane: 1d20+15 23 ill do the paint thing

ooc for this

Feb 1st 2018 Vision Inc. The man was extremely scruffy, grey haired, and wild eyes, wearing a lumberjack shirt and jeans complete with builders boots. He was in his fifties, one would guess, but in all honesty, it was hard to tell. He looked crazy. Probably was crazy. And he was certainly just skin and bones, full of wiry energy and vigour. In his scruffy hands, a scruffy box. "Dude, you gotta let me in! I gotta show this to that Mannequin guy. Like, super important, man! I mean, I guess its super important! Something spooky is happening, and it's like, in his hands! Or whatever you call those things at the end of his arms. You know his arms, like, the thing attached his torso, yeah?" He looked pretty mad, but he also looked pretty together. Like he had something important to say, and was determined to get through reception and talk to the man himself...

GM "Mwah! Lord Whistable fears no knives, madam! Least of all from the Scotsmen. Brutes!" he said, proudly. He drew out a quill, a most resplendent quill, and dipped it in ink, ready parchment. "Names, madam! I need names. And times. And places. Evidence! to be used in a court of law, or by the loyal agents of the Empire who would lawfully execute their duties in defence of the realm without undue burdening by due process and suchlike. For Queen and country, madam!" he proudly orated. He put quill to parchment and gave Atraxia an expectant look. "Take your time, madam. Not too much time though. In fact, the sooner the better for it will go well with you when we consider due punishment for your henious crimes!"