Supercape

Echohead is going to search the clothes for CLUES! Getting a 15

Echohead "Sp-split up?" said Echohead, his voice high pitched. "Well, ah, if you think its best?" "You look like you can handle the computers. Your brain is so bright it hurts my eyes..." This was true. Echohead couldn't recall seeing a brain so effervescent with intellect. At least on a human. "...I'll check the clothes. At least I know a little bit about clothes..." he smiled, thin lips, weak smile. He ran his fingers down the lapels of his cool black suit. Yes, it was stylish, or so he thought. And he reminded himself it was bullet proof and fire proof and hopefully a lot of other things proof to. Impervium weave had its uses. He gave a salute, trembling fingers touching sweaty brow, and then started off up the stairs. At least he wasn't in too bad shape...

Captain Cosmos in Cosmos Man In another dimension, in another world, Buddy Brand was – once again – a reporter. In a simpler age, a golden age. When good guys were good, bad guys were bad, and the future gleamed with possibilities. Like every Buddy Brand, in every dimension, this Buddy Brand gave a miniscule fraction of his life force to the Buddy Brand that was Captain Cosmos. So small that it was without salience, like a drop in the proverbial ocean. But a connection, all the same. Maybe it was that fraction, that atom of connection, that made mild mannered reporter Buddy Brand want to do something more. He had seen too much foul play in his career, too many crooks and swindlers. Too many mad scientists and mad science. It was enough to drive a man to don a silver spandex costume, red cape and mask, and seek justice. Armed with one of those mad science experiments from a good guy scientist (too old, too frail to don the cape himself). Professor Kosmo had created the incredible dimensionizer gun. It looked sleek. A gold and glass pistol with a wide barrel, two flashing red lights, and a magnificent yellow fin. A weapon straight out of the cheap and wonderful sci-fi serials and films that Buddy still enjoyed. Silly, yes, but fun. Escapism, hope, heroics. They inspired Buddy to put on his splendid costume, charge up the dimensionizer, and take up the mantle of Cosmos Man! OK. Maybe he felt a little silly in his costume. Maybe he was sweating more than a hero should do, trembling more than a soldier should. But this was a calling, and one he was resolved to heed. Cosmos man could do the work no other could! That’s what he told himself. As Buddy Brand, investigative reporter, he knew darn well that Hammerhead Jones was a no good mobster, blackmailing the police and the law, twisting the knife of corruption into the otherwise good soul of Freedom City. Its just that nobody could prove it – or if they could, they didn’t dare too. Hammerhead Jones would soon send some ruffians round to your door and play the piano on your ribcage with a couple of baseball bats. Hell, sometimes Hammerhead Jones did it all by himself, just to “keep his hand in”, or maybe just because the thug liked to. No place for Hammerhead Jones in this city, not whilst Buddy Brand could act – as COSMOS MAN! Hammerhead Jones base of operation was a no-good den of sleaze in the worst part of town. Suited Cosmos-Man, at least for now. The lights were busted, it was dark, and he could slip to the back of the den with ease. What next? At the back was just junk, flotsam, stench. And a brick wall. But no matter! Cosmos Man adjusted one of the five small dials on the dimensionizer. With a zim of power, the dimensionizer shone a blue-green light on the brick wall. Phasing into… ANOTHER DIMENSION! Which meant it was about as solid as one breath on a winters day. Cosmos Man quickly stepped through the wall, and turned off the dimensionizer, allowing the brick wall to resolidify. “Neat-o!” he muttered with a smile. Swing music played from a radio-an infectious rhythm and tune that almost got Cosmos man tapping his spandex feet. But no, he was not here to dance. At least not that kind oof dance. There was work to do! As quietly as he could, grateful for the background noise, Cosmos Man crept through the den of evil. There, in the lounge, four of Jones’ goons, lounging about drinking whiskey and smoking cigars. The smoke filled the room, giving the air a sickly sweet taste that Cosmos Man thought most suspicious. Apart from all the murder, extortion, theft and violence, it seemed that Hammerhead Jones and his motley crew were, even worse, junkies as well! The lounge was cramped. Battered leather furniture, a wireless, bottles of whiskey. It was not a well kempt room, either. Cosmos Man spotted more than one cockroach climbing up the walls. He turned his lips to sour disgust – typical junkies! “Halt Evil-Doers!” he yelled, making all four men jump up in alarm, spill their whiskey, spit out their suspicious cigars. “Who are you? Why are you dressed like that?” asked one. “We ain’t going to be halting for you, crazy man!” said another. “It was not a request!” said Cosmos Man, smiling. “It was a statement!” He fired another spectacular beam from the Dimensionizer, and all four men were frozen in place, including four faces with unbelieving shock painted on them! So far, thought Cosmos Man, this heroic jaunt was going very well. An excellent debut. But heroes should not rest, at least not easy. And hubris was the downfall of Cosmos Man. A baseball bat, swung hard, connected with the tip of the dimensioner, wrenching it out of the Grip of Cosmos Man. It was made of sturdy stuff, what with its drawn reciprocating dingle arm and semi-boloid laminar plates, and it would no doubt be serviceable still. But in whose hands? What if… and here your blood might run cold… what if it was in the hands of Hammerhead Jones. For it was he who swung the bat. He who grinned a toothy grin, absent more than one tooth. He, with broken nose and cauliflower ear, who stood before Cosmos Man, tapping the palm of one hand with his bat. And what did Captain Cosmos have? Bereft of his amazing weapon, all he had was sweat, fear, and a spandex costume. And, of course, a plucky attitude. Fear? Pffft! This was an age for heroes, and heroes didn’t succumb to fear. That was for commies and crooks. Besides, armed with a plucky attitude, Cosmos Man could use the most amazing super power of all. Smarts! Everyone knew that crooks weren’t smart – Crime didn’t pay, after all, so you had to be pretty stupid to be a crook. Hammerhead Jones sneered. “What you got without that gizmo of yours, buster?” “You mean the Dimensionizer?” replied Cosmos Man, keeping his cool despite the heat. “You shouldn’t have hit it so hard! The feedback of the variable lotus configurations will cause irretractable parabolic feedback. Your atoms will be reduced to subatomic particles! Look!” It was a bold bluff of babble, but Hammerhead Jones didn’t know any better. He looked down to were the dimensionizer lay, on the floor, clearly doing nothing at all. He didn’t have a chance to look up. WHAM! A solid suckerpunch from Cosmos Man, right to the jaw, sent Hammerhead Jones flying across the room, out cold. “Never forget!” said Cosmos Man to whoever might be listening. “Evil is no match for Good. Especially with science and a solid uppercut to back it up!”

Bloody Mess In Silver Age Mess It was cold, icy, but the sun shone bright. Captain Blood bounded across the frozen landscape, wearing his star spangled spandex costume. No red for this hero! This was a true patriot, fighting for truth, justice, and freedom. As mighty pumped up legs propelled him into the sky, his cape, adorned with truly patriotic stars and stripes, followed behind him. Captain Blood had a mission! And he wasn’t going to make a mess of it. Freddie Furlong had been picked up by the US military for brawling. A crook, it seemed, but a patriotic crook. And a valuable patriotic crook at that – a mutant, born from the atomic era. As strong as a dozen oxen, and able to manipulate blood. In this dark time of democracy vs communism, of freedom vs autocracy, of west vs east, Freddy Furlong was recruited. Now, it so happened that Freddie Furlong had some eastern European ancestry. That, of course, simply would not do. Agents were immediately put on the case do manipulate the data. His father suddenly became an Irish Immigrant, not an Eastern European one. New passports, papers, and a hefty sum of money to relocate with his wife, as long as they maintained an Irish backstory. Unfortunately, Mr Frederick Furlong was not the brightest spark in the book. He was, to put it bluntly (as the CIA report did), a grunt. Captain Blood was never going to be a subtle, nuanced superhero. He was going to be the sledgehammer. At least, the intelligence officers agreed, his low intelligence would allow a certain degree of leverage. In other words, his lack of perception meant he was most suitable for dirty work where a degree of tunnel vision was not only advisable, but necessary. So here he was, in Siberia, bouncing across the frozen landscape, fresh out of a week long trip in a stealth sub, ready to pound the crap out of Soviet missile silo. The specifics of the technology was far beyond that of even an average man’s, much less Captain Bloods. Something about quantum. And nano. Nanoquantum, maybe. It sounded cool. Cool and dangerous. The silo was in the middle of an icy plain under a white camouflage net. If not for the advanced laminar directants of the turbo encabulator spy satellite orbiting far above, it would have been missed. But clearly, in this day and age, the forces of freedom, liberty and capitalism always prevailed over the stodgy, autocratic forces of evil. Evil communism, that is. Which, it must be pointed out, is evil and furthermore, evil it what it was. This is clear and must be repeated constantly in this day and age. Who knew where undemocratic soviet sympathisers might bloom? The silo had turrets with thick, brutal machine guns. Designed in typical Soviet style – to pump out as many large bullets in as short space of time as possible. But it could only spit a half dozen large callibre shots before the pumped up figure of Blood Mess landed, skidded, and collided with the Silo, sending juddering tremors aroud the silo that cracked ice and unsettled snow. In but a moment, the two hammer like fists of Blood Mess were on the turret, and bent the barrel into a bow. No more bullets today. Taking a deep breath, the Mess pulled back one of his swollen fists and punched out the trapdoor, sending it flying to the bottom of the silo, singing as it clanged against the walls. With a grunt of satisfaction, he jumped down to the bottom of the base. There were, of course, soldiers. But the Mess had given them only seconds to react, and a few peashooter side arms were no match for a fully powered Bloody Mess, who thundered his way through the silo, smacking soldiers aside like ragdolls. But of course, the Soviets, whilst fully reprehensible and inferior to the power of the West, were not completely stupid [Editor-please check with McCarthy re: this], for they had brought one of their Super Soviet Soldiers to guard the Silo. Soviet Man! Dressed in shiny red spandex, complete with flared black boots and flared black gloves. His ches adorned with the hammer and sickle in resplendent gold. His hair dark and short, his eyes grey and sparkling. Soviet Man was every inch a hero, and had twice the intellect of Bloody Mess, making him entirely average in that department. “Halt, Capatalist scum!” he yelled, hands on hips, chest puffed out, full of righteous soviet confidence. Bloody Mess had brawled a hundred street fights in Freedom City before he even realised he was a mutant. He may not have been sharp in the head, but he had experience. And he didn’t fight fair, nor clean. And besides, he was just as patriotic as Soviet Man. Bloody Mess didn’t waste breath with words, nor time with poses. He just charged, like a supercharged bull, straight into Soviet Man. The result was a mixed bag: Soviet Man knew his judo, his sambo, and dragged the Mess to the floor, but he was caught by the sheer speed and ferocity of the mess. This was no elegant martial art throw, but more a equivocal scramble to the concrete floor. And the Mess came out on top. Righty, his right fist, was raised like a hammer read to fall. Soviet Man threw his own hooks that smacked into Bloody Mess’s jaw – one, two, each one jarring the jaw, grinding the teeth. But the Mess had taken a lot worse. He spat out specks of blood into Soviet Man’s eyes (alas, whilst his super suit was shiny and red, it had neglected super goggles). Dirty, effective fighting that made Soviet Man squint and rub his eyes. And made him wide open for a solitary sledgehammer punch with every ounce of power the Bloody Mess could muster. A pulsating arm holding aloft Righty came right down onto Soviet Man’s nose with an almighty wallop and crunching of cartilage. “Fbghmmmm” said the mangled mouth of Soviet Man, as his eyes rolled upwards. “Fbghmmmm ilthy capatilist… ghmmm glorious communism….” A brain soaked in communist propaganda and then crunched by a superhero (capitalist) fist could only resort to such vapid, reflexive statements, before unconsciousness set in. Standing up, breathing heavily, chewing on bloodied gum, the Mess slammed righty into the palm of lefty. “That’s the sweet taste of Freedom, folks!” he said. “Ain’t nuthin’ going to crush da human spirit!” And with his (rather short) dialogue finished, Bloody Mess set about demonstrating the humanity of capitalism by violently smashing the base and its soldiers to smithereens.

Thanks Dracostern Dont worry!

Could you throw a bluff roll for me? DC 10

GM "Roger... Paramedics en route...." called in the control tower. The Captain grabbed Predator by the arms, wincing in pain, skin pale, sweaty. Snow was falling on his face. Light snow, melting. "Listen. We are comprimised... do you understand? Nobody knew about our flight. Classified. And someone... something... was on it. They didn't tell me what this was about, but you can bet is hot, right? So take it from me, somebody, somewhere, is a mole. Whatever this is about, someone is on to you. Don't speak to anyone..." The Captain looked down to his bloodied military fatigues. "Nice job..." he muttered, before passing out.

@Dracostern the psychic blast will automatically hit, so post that IC 11 for his will save vs DC 23, so that makes him staggered and dazed

GM "What am I? What am I? I am no mere... THING!" roared General Sparks, shaking one lightning fist to the skies. "I AM GENERAL SPARKS! SUPREME COMMANDER OF EARTH!" He looked around. "Where am I? Am I on earth?" he asked, looking quite confounded and confused. The sparks still flewm however. The lights on the cieling exploded, and glass tinkled to the ground, covering the heroes. "What have you done??? Where am I?" screamed General Sparks.

Gen Sparks is going to let you hit! Unfortunately as he is pure lightning now (Insubstantial 3) he is immune to physical attacks, and further more you suffer a Damage 8 effect from his lightning aura, @MoonSimply:( Could you post that IC and then Daniel is up, @Dracostern

GM "Why?" asked the Metal man, his little legs running frantically in mid-air. "Why, because its metal! I like metal. Us Metalloids do. You have so little metal in this place, but its awfully fun to play with. Look at all the fun we are having," he giggled. The metal men started melting, dripping right out of Dwayne's hand, reforming in a crouch on the monorail itself. "Wouldn't it be fun if we electrocified this? Shocking! I am sure I saw the power generator earlier. So primitive.. but effective! Yippee!" With another wide grin that threatened to split his face, the metal man shot away again, pounding across the monorail like a bullet.

Round 1 24 Puma - 3 HP - Dazzled 20 - Daniel - 16 - Golden Star - OHP, Bruised 13 - Gen Sparks 13 - Iris - 4 HP, Staggered Puma is up! Although Dazzled this round. Still need a dazzle save from Golden Star

Thanks Fox - I appreciate a lot to wade through with three sheets The Evolition Array - I think it is Drawbacks on the sheet? (Unless you corrected for me) Corrected Grapple for Rat and Beast Boot Knives in DC Block You are correct about total PP cost and Feats: I have added in Elusive Target to Rat and Head, and another rank of Favoured Enemies (Animals) to Beast Corrected the Total cost to 248 PP

Ok for reference, Metal Man isnt going to attack so we dont need to faff around with combat (especially as its a ping pong solo thread) As Metal man slides into you, it gives you a chance to react with a punch / grapple / whatever Take it away!

GM "Whoooaaaa!" screeched the Metal Man, his voice tinny, like scratched metal. "I didn't see you coming! Wait! Are you going to chase me? WHEEEEE! FUNTIMES!" The Metal man leant backwards and tried to slow his pace - lamentably, he was not fast enough. He may have made the metal as shiny and frictionless as an oiled mirror to try and fool Dwayne, but that very transmutation now worked against him. He only had a second to decelerate, and whilst his reflexes were fast, they were not fast enough. He slid right into Dwayne!

Bloody Mess Now Bloody Mess was not da smartest of heroes, and he knew it. But... Red Cap? Treasures? It reminded him of old folk stories his parents told him. Back in eastern Europe. He shook his head. No way these crooks could be goblins... could they? Not that he was sure dey were goblins. Goblins, ogres, what was da difference? Could even be those short fellaz, like in da movies. "We ain't givin ya nothing, ya bozos!" he called back, slamming lefty and righty together. "You gotta earn treasure. By workin and stuff. Ya can't just steal treasures. Da'ts what theives do!" He thumped lefty and righty together once more, and let his supercharged blood swell his muscles...

For when it comes up, 18 for Bloody Mess initiative

Yes could you @MoonSimply @Poncho and @Dracostern all give a DC 15 Reflex to avoid the dazzle And then Round 1 24 Puma - 3 HP 20 - Daniel - 16 - Golden Star - OHP, Bruised 13 - Gen Sparks 13 - Iris - 4 HP, Staggered Giving G Sparks the edge on initiative (they have the same DEX but as Iris is just waking up...)

Nope - although the game itself is buzzing and sparking

And we have the FINAL BOSS FIGHT! FIrst off you all succumb (or dont) to a Dazzle 5 (Visual) effect from the burst of light. (DC 15 Reflex) Iris is recovering from being unconsious, so eyes closed and she is immune to that effect. However, the light also awakes her. Then could I have initiative from you all. G Sparks Inits is 13!

GM Meanwhile... Amidst the chaos... More Chaos was to come. The Nintendo 64 startes buzzing, the sparking, and then in an explosion of blue-white light, General Sparks was in the real world! The light was blinding - enough to give the poor students glowing after images in their retina's for days. But - if they could see (and that was to be determined!) - they would have seen a General Sparks transformed. Not flesh, no! But living lightning! A man sized shape of pure energy. One could still see his ridiculously tall military hat, his flared gloves and boots, and his short cape, all now made of blue-white electricity. "I AM HERE TO CONQUER!" he yelled, flexing his lightning muscles, and standing tall and triumphant. Lamentably, his form was still only two feet tall. But short stature never stopped any dictator!

Echohead "I'm fine, I'm fine..." said Echohead. "Just a mild case of extreme anxiety. Nothing to worry about, eh?" His throat felt dry, his cheeks felt flushed. He was very glad his high - tech sunglasses were black. The thought struck him - the hospital would have diazepam, wouldn't it? No - no - NO! that way lay madness. "Patient Zero. Who was he?" he asked. "How did this... happen?" Perhaps the hospital staff had some clue. "Do you have his medical records? I understand confidentiality, but given the situation we are in..."

Plenty of speed! And concealment will work fine too. Post away

Dwayne - Bruised - 4 HP For reference the Monorail will be 25' Above the ground normally. Metaloid is 100' from Dwayne

GM "Har Har!" laughed the micro metal man, laughing and pointing. "You humans are so STUPID! You uare no match for my amazingly amazing metal powers, are you!" He paused, drumming his hand fingers on his bald metal scalp. "Wait... you are one of those.... Super heroes! Arent you! Har har har! What an IDIOT! What do they say on those programmes I watched... oh yes! Your KUNG FU IS REALLY PATHETIC! Har har har!" However, as Dwayne got up to the fight again, the Metal Man decided it was more prudent to run, or more accurately slide. He skidded along the monorail as if he was surfing a wave, the metal undulating under his feet. "WHEEEEEE!" he added, clearly enjoying himself. Scanning ahead, Dwayne could see a potential problem.... Aside from all the business buildings, pedestrians, and vehicles, an unfortunate issue lay ahead. A lorry labelled "Franks Fabulous Fireworks" had parked just below the monorail, delivering fireworks to the liberty park for an upcoming festival...