Supercape

Comrade Frost. Yes, this was the man he had heard of. Not every detail, of course, but the man he wanted to speak too. A sensible, astute man. Probably had to be, in these times, with his job. "I have heard of you. The eater of fire. The Count of cold. The Child of the Chill. And many other whispers, some deserved, some not. But from what I hear, Sir, you are a decent sort, or at least as much as can be expected in such times. We are all scarred from the War" he sighed. He wished he could have stopped it. He tried, in fact, stepping out from the shadows to influence behind the scenes. But he was but a leaf in the wind of history. "Your story has a thousand versions, of course. And I doubt any of them hits the truth more than in passing. Such is the way of gossip and whispers. Tell me, would you care to share it?"

"Liberty, yes" replied Murk, rather stone faced and equally ossified of tongue. It was fair to say that the Soviet regime was a step up from the horrors of the Nazi one, but there was, he thought, room for improvement. After fifty thousand years, he had come to view democracy as the own safeguard against power. The Soviets proclaimed noble intentions, and of these he approved. But he was not hopeful, and his obscure visions of the coming years did not console him on the matter. "Any sane man must toast the end of the Nazi blight" he added, a touch of warmth to his voice slowly creeping back in. He took a liberal sip of brandy for further heat. "But what say you to the years coming? A divided Berlin seems a vexatious situation for the World, does it not?" he inquired. "I confess I see ill fortune ahead. And the world is still scarred from the war behind us...." he mused, sadly. "You are Russian, I take it?" he asked. "I suppose there is an official answer. And maybe I could press you for an unofficial one, too. This is Hertzmann's after all..."

"Gent over there wants a word" replied Hertzmann, giving a wiggle of his eyebrows. "German fellow. Has that look about him" he said in a hushed tone. "May I offer you a cigar?" asked Murk, pointing his spare cigar roughly in the direction of Frost. He too spoke fluent German. Whilst roughly pointed, it was clearly not on target. The cigar indicated a point a good foot or two to Frosts left. Mr Murk could of course sense the most peculiar soul of Comrade Frost, but could see not a thing. He was blind, and was playing a blind man. "If you would be so kind, I would enjoy the company of a fine fellow such as yourself. Russian?" he asked, cocking his head. "I might be mistaken, do forgive me if so. I have an ear for an accent..." he explained, giving a puzzled face. "These are strange days, and some conversation over a cigar would be a fine way to unpick them, say I!" he smiled, raising his cigar in salute to these very strange days. "And if you could spare a bottle of brandy and a couple of glasses, Hertzmann, that would be splendid!"

Unlikely we will need it (much) but here if we do.... For the sake of this encounter, whilst rather academic: Murk will take 20 on various rolls being prepared by foresight. Gather Info: 31 Knowledge (Arcane): 17 Knowledge (History): 31 Cross Referencing with Rep Sheet and mindful of time Comrade Frost is an ice-controlling Russian superhero: He is not actually a cold controller, but a thermovore. Frost's powers are magic, though not spells. World War II was particularly brutal on the Eastern Front, with the conflict between superhumans especially nasty. Comrade Frost is the only surviving member of the WWII-era incarnation of the Peoples' Heroes. Frost has been an active super-agent for first the Soviet, then the Russian government, since the 1940s.

West Berlin, 1948 A Cold Winter Night The snow fell lightly through the streets and whilst the air was still there was no denying the chill in the air. This was a defiant city but the blockade was biting, and there was a taste of misery floating in the air. Mr. Murk tapped his way through the streets. This was no place for a blind man, for charity was drying up even if not gone. And yet, here was an opportunity. He had money to buy on the black market, and a target in sight. Nevertheless, he felt the cold and his stomach rumbled. One nasty soul had tried to mug him. A blind man. Mr. Murk was a merciful sort by nature, but he had punched the man much harder than he strictly needed too. Counting the steps, clicking his cane, he knocked on the door of Hertzmann Fine Cigars. Not much call for cigars now. Not much coming in and out of Berlin. It had transformed, by necessity, into a smugglers shop. But it still sold cigars, and Mr Murk's nostrils flared at the sweet aroma as he entered. It was warm, too. Bathed in the bleak dimension of the Murk, he wore the look of a tall thin German man complete with well groomed blond hair and strong jaw. Best not his real appearance. He sat down, ordered a pair of cigars, and lit one for himself, waiting for the cold immortal he had seen in his visions to enter. Surely it would not be long now...

Rev Rev finished the last of her breakfast and washed it down with orange juice and coffee. She was feeling progressively more pumped with excitement. Or was it anxiety? She didn't get nervous often, but this was some crazy day. "Bah! Life's too damn short to worry about a few pounds here and there. As long as you don't have to call Greenpeace because you think I am a beached whale, I'm going to eat what I want" she said with a grin. And she did too, but her restless body kept the worst of her indulgences without consequence to her physique. "Mind you, its a bit early for chocolate ice cream" she conceded. "And I don't want to fall asleep in class. Whatever, and whenever, we get classes?"

Synth "You had me, but you slipped up" said Synth, finally feeling like the upper hand was his. He made a point of bleeding over the man as he held him tight. He was in control: stronger, faster. And now, as he gripped the man in a lock, he started absorbing him. It was not pretty; blotchy horrible welts broke out on the man and Synth started breaking down those cells into protein and glucose for his own consumption; to repair the brutal ass-kicking he had received. "Tasty!" he snarled. He wasn't a vicious man, by any means. Quite the opposite. But this was SHADOW. His red rag. His bullseye of rage.

Ok, so maintaining Pin, Maintaining Grapple: 1d20+24 42 And activating Vampiric Damage power: A Fort 20 Save damage effect, with vampric extra.

Rope-a-doped by Thevshi Bloody Mess 15 PP to spend Feats: [2 PP] Another Rank of Improved Initiative (also making his initiative +11 total under the combat section) Move by Action Powers [12 PP] 12 PP: Add 10 PP to Blood Control Array and adds 2 Alt Powers (Blood Infection, Nullify) This “Buys off” the Action Flaw in all the powers, and adds 2 ranks to Alternate Form. It now looks like this: Blood Control Array (42PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power 6) [48PP] BP: Healing 10 (Extras: Action [Standard], Range 2 [Perception]; Flaws: Limited (Damage causing blood loss or blood effects only); Feats: Stabilise) {41/42} “Seal Wound” AP: Alternate Form 9 (45PP Container; Extras: Duration [Continuous]; Flaws: Projection [-1]; Drawbacks: Full Round to Activate [-3]) {42/42} AP: Damage 10 (Extras: Alternate Save [Fortitude], Range 2 [Perception] Feats: Sedation, Subtle, Variable Descriptor 1 [blood], Drawback: Target must have blood system*) {42/42} “Cause bleeding / clotting” AP: Fatigue 10 (Extras: Range 2 [Perception]; Feats: Reversible, Sedation, Subtle, Drawback: Target must have blood system*) {42/42} “Thin Blood” AP: Dazzle 8 (All Senses but NB Drawback, Extras: Alt Save [Fort], Range [Perception], Feats: Reversible, Selective [Can choose which senses affected], Subtle, Drawback: Sensory organs must have significant blood supply [-2]*) [41/42 PP] AP: Nauseate 5 (Extras: Contagious, Continuous Aura [+4], Disease [+2], Feats: Reversible, Selective Aura, Flaws: Sicken only [-1]) [42 PP] “Blood Infection” AP: Nullify 10 (All Blood Effects/Blood Loss, Extras: Effortless, Perception Range [+1], Feats: Selective, Subtle) [42/42 PP] [1 PP]: Super Strength, add the Super Breath feat to make Super Strength 2 (+10 Effective strength, Feats: Ground Strike, Super Breath) [6 PP] NB: There is a pre-existing error on the sheet (Super Strength is costed at the top as 5 PP and should thus read Super Strength 2 with the Ground Strike feat already) Could you also change Immunity 10 to Immunity 10 (Fatigue Effects, Disease, Own Blood infection power Flaws: Limited [Half effect] for disease and fatigue) [4 PP] “Mutant Blood”, Saving 1 PP 1 PP: Reduce Vulnerability to Dehydration to “Minor” [+1 DC] Finally if you could also change the top of the sheet, his Reflex is now +9 (+15 in Alternate Form)

So from Mr Murk's speech and what you see, you have infront of you, oozed out from the Bonfire,... A insubstantial 3 (Fire) blob of fire demon thing. It is stupid of INT and PL 8, but the challenge for Dreadnought is that it is insubstantial!

GM At the mention of Slug, Amanda's left eye had a massive spasm. "Gluth...Gluth..." she whispered, trying to process the memory and failing (As always) to do so. But she would not speak further on the matter. 'Twas ever the mystery. "Kitty Riot, eh? Good choice! I approve of any feeling, I mean feline pussy" she said, brightening at their name and outrageous history. "I'll have a helicopter on standby in case of emergency extraction then. And let the embassy know. They will be spitting blood. Which is another good reason to have them!" she said, pondering the matter. "And yes, he did chance his name to Z.G" she sighed, frowning. She finished both coffees and started pouring another. "He says it is a representative nomenclature statement on current social cybernetics. Or something equally vapid and pretentious...here..." She pulled up his profile on the computer. It was a website that was predictably vapid and pretentious, but, as Amanda had noted, also extremely well done. His face was there too, smiles, dyed punk red hair, jet black goatee, a few piercings, a smile that made you want to punch out his teeth if it was not for the nagging sensation that he would probably just replace them with a false teeth rainbow of metals, woods, and bodily fluids in resin. "Annoyingly, he is actual good at what he does" she said. ""Electrical and computer wizard, degree in art and media studies, top honours, and so on. He should at least have had the decency to be an idiot" "I can set up a meet before the gig, if you want. Which you probably don't..." she sighed.

For stuff and so on and so forth, verily, forsooth, suchlike and thus be it and yay, so it is and it is so. Rep Table 20 Q HellQ The Codus / Codex Immortus Comrade Frost (Signed) Dreadnought (Signed) Voin Zhenshchina (Signed)

Mr Murk Knowledge [History] DC 35 Researching carefully, the master historian will find oblique references to “Mr Murk” or variants (in various languages) throughout human history, as a prophet, seer, or mystic of various forms. DC 40 The true master will also realise that even ancient cave man paintings found throughout the world might indicate his presence. Knowledge [Civics or Business] DC 20 Fiddle and Murk was a law company in London, mid 19th Century, run by Mr Ebeneezer Fiddle and Mr Erasmus Murk (His pupil). DC 30 Fiddle and Murk has run ever since from offices in London, although progressively smaller in scope until they virtually vanish in WW2. They are still technically active, however. DC 40 Mr Murk appears to retain ownership of Fiddle and Murk, and the offices are based in Soho, at the “Club Immortus” (With regards to the Murk Dimension) Knowledge [Arcane] DC 25 There are various rare occult and eldritch texts referring to a shadowy dimension called by names such as “The gloom”, “The shade”, “The murk” and so on. DC 30 This dimension feeds (mindlessly) on the soul and few can survive there. Rats and Flies seem to live their quite comfortably, however. On seeing Mr. Murks true form…Knowledge [Life Sciences] DC 10 He ain’t human! DC 15 (also possible with Medicine DC 15) Mr Murk is clinically albino. DC 20 Mr Murk is a Homo Nandethalensis

GM "It is fire and fury, and without brain" explained Mr. Murk, blind eyes gazing at the bonfire. And he was not wrong. For out of the bonfire slithered pure liquid fire, burning the frosted ground, steam arising. Like a flow of lava, the fire streamed, streams of fire oozing this way and that like a cobweb of tendrils. Screams abounded, and the crowds ran this way and that. " "Who is in charge of that fire!" "Call the brigade!" "This is an outrage! A health and safety disaster!" For, if one knew what to look for, one could discern an oozing bestial mentality in the centre of the flowing pool of fire. Otherwise, it looked like a most peculiar, even unnerving and unnatural, spread of fire. The scientific mind might notice that it was an impossibility of physics, but a panicked mob did not have a scientific mind. And it was full of rage, with great paucity of intellect. An idiot with a tantrum.

GM "What ails you, sir? You look like Ares preparing for war" said Mr. Fiddle who was watching the Fireworks with some enjoyment. It waned quickly when he saw the helmet of Dreadnought. The change in appearance had drawn a few impressed and frightened look from the onlookers. "See! I told you he was from Norway!" whispered one young boy. "It does not bode well" continued Mr. Fiddle, frowning and casting his eyes around. "I saw you with Doctor Armitage. What foul play is a foot? What did you learn?" Mr Murk, of course, was not looking at the fireworks. His milky eyes gazed at the bonfire. "Something lurks within..." he said, blindly pointing with uncanny accuracy towards the centre of the blaze.

VROOM VROOM'D BY HGM Rev Fluff change: Could you add under "In Brief" (As per template) Theme Tune: I'm in love with my car 15 PP to spend Attributes [2 PP] +2 to CHA [2 PP] NB: This increases Bluff to 4 (+7) and Intimidate to 4 (+7) Feats [2 PP] Add Move by Action and Improved Trip Powers [11 PP] 8 PP: Add new Power Anatomic Separation 4 (Arms, Legs) [8 PP] [Mechanical/Cybernetic] 1 PP: Add new Power Regeneration 0 (Feats: Regrowth) [1 PP] [Cybernetic/Bacterial] 1 PP: Replace Enhanced Trait (Improvised Tools) with Quickness 3 (x10 Speed, Flaws: One Task [-2, Mechanical], Feats: Improvised Tools) [2 PP] "Inbuilt finger tools" [Mechanical/Cybernetic] 1 PP: Add an additional power to Jet Array. Trip 10 (Extras: Area [Line], Knockback, Flaws: Range [Touch]) [20/24 PP] "Wind Tunnel" [Cybernetic, Wind]

GM "Everything has a price" answered Armitage, his soul flowing into steel. "It just depends if you are willing to pay it. I have no doubt that you have strength. I have no doubt at all. Little if anything could challenge it. But strength, in itself, is not enough. Do you have the finesse to apply it? Do you have the will to exert it? Can you pay the price?" He turned once again to the bonfire, and closed his eyes. He moved hardly an inch, and he mumbled barely audible words, lost in concentration. Some strange exotic language, from what Dreadnought could tell. And in the distance, the fireworks started, to the whooping and yelling and cheering of the crowds. Even Anna Longfield managed a smile despite the tight grip of Lord Rhodes. But Armitage did not open his eyes, lost in medication and trance...

Synth [As Grunt] Synth took a moment to straighten his nose. Septum gone sideways.... The man was more skilled than he was. Synth didn't really know martial arts, although he knew every pressure point in the body. But Synth was stronger, and faster. Not fast enough, right now. "I can take that all day. Should have brought more of your crew, SHADOW man" he said defiantly. With a burst of speed, he turned and walked up the wall of the elevator, jumping against the wall, spinning, flipping, and in the blink of an eye he was behind the man, crouched in a perfect landing. And ready to bear hug the man...

GM "Pretty much" answered Amanda, forcing herself to sit down. She stood up again. "A Camera and a few select guests. Some Saudi Prince wants to go, your biggest fan, I understand. A few other millionaires and their boobies, I mean floozies" she babbled. "You can pick your backing band. As long as it isn't the Cesspit Worms. You remember them, right? God, I wish I didn't. Even my therapist refuses to discuss them anymore" she complained. "The artiste is some idiot called Zyte Guyst. Got his finger on the pulse of multi media, or so he says. He is seriously annoying. It is even more annoying that he is actually very good at what he does" she said, irritated. "He can get your face around the world and on the cloud. Whatever the damn hell the cloud is. Jeesh, the world was simpler when a cloud was a white fluffy thing in the sky" she said, rolling her eyes. "Lots of money, lots of exposure, risky, contravertial and rock and roll. Right up your street, I thought..."

Toughness: 1d20+7 18 Finally a not awful roll. Move action: Acrobatic Bluff Acrobatic Bluff: 1d20+15 26 Standard Action: Grapple: Grapples Agent: 1d20+10 26 I guess that hits Which means: Grapple opposed roll: 1d20+23 37 as an opposed roll.

OOC for this

GM Prologue: Sometime in the Summer of 2017... ...The office of Amanda St. Croix, Freedom City It was a hot day, and the air con buzzed furiously. Amanda St. Croix was high on coffee, her blonde hair was its predictable mess and the roots were showing. She was a tall, thin, hyperactive woman full of restless energy and inventiveness but still learning the ropes as the manager of Valerie Cain. "Coffee?" she asked Valerie, holding two cups of coffee. Both were for her. Without waiting for an answer, she pressed on, alive with jitters. "Look, I got something pretty mad, but you may like it. But risky, but will make the nudes, I mean the news, big time...." she said, caffeine inspiring her characteristic rambling and Freudian slips. "Got some artistic savante guy, thinks he is breaking new paradigms or something. Totally dick, really. Cranio-rectal fistula. But I gotta hand it to him, he has some skills. Anyway, he wants to film a rock concert at the top of the Burj Khalifa. You know, that mad tall tower in the middle of the desert? If you don't mind a five star holiday, some sand up your backside, and the fact they live in the goddamn middle ages there when it comes to girls and boobs, I mean dudes, then you have a media frenzy that will go down in the history books...." she said, dribbling every word out through coffee and nerves.

GM "Really?" replied Armitage, turning a hint of cruel colour. "You would stand back and let this happen? I am not talking about her decisions, which she must own, but her circumstance. A poor family pressurising a girl to marry a man over her twice her age just so they can live? A society that allows this to happen with all but the vaguest whispers of malcontent, and even that is primarily for the purposes of gossip" he said, nastily. "Respect her decision, by all means. I dare say I do, if I consider the matter. But the circumstance, no, I do not accept. Decisions are redundant without the will to effect them. What, say, if Mr. Rhodes befell a mysterious accident. Would Ms. Longfield's life be better, or worse, do you think? And whom, of the two, do you think is most deserving of life?"

GM Armitage contemplated the response; it was not that he was vexed by it, more that a blanket of dissatisfaction had been laid on him. "I suspect that things are more complex than you say, sir" he said, diplomatically "although your principles are noble, the nature of the world is riddled with the peculiar. As for me, it is stasis of mind and thus culture that is the devil, the ultimate corruption. The seduction of comfort and safety, which, paradoxically, is the least safe of all" "But these speculations on philosophy are to be had over a meal and wine, I think. For now then, we have a practical problem. That oaf, Rhodes, and yes - I know you think him an oaf and so you should - is about to marry Miss Longfield, much to her assured lamentations. Possibly mortal lamentations, if I read correctly, which I must oft do" he said, more confidence than pride. "It is legal, and voluntarily, but I am sure you will agree, unpalatable. Now, what should you and I do on the matter? Stand back and let the railroad lead her to ruin, or act as we have power to do?"

GM "Perhaps, Sir" said Doctor Armitage stroking his nearly trimmed beard. "But I am yet to be convinced on the matter. No action is still an action. The mind of man is disposed towards inactivity, for we are more comfortable in taking responsibility for our lack of action than we are towards the reverse. And yet, if one is bold and fearless, it is action that defines us, not the lack of it" He turned to the warmth of the bonfire. "Do we stand by and drink in the fire's light, and heat? Passive but comfortable, or do we stare into the fury of the combustion, and master it?" he said, greedily. He turned back to Dreadnought. "You are a man of extraordinary strength and might, I am sure. You have the power to affect change beyond that of twenty normal men. Beyond a hundred, a dare say, or more. Surely you seize this and judiciously impose your will on the world to remake it in accordance with your vision, whatever it might be?" he asked. "I should ask too what that vision is!" he said, bold again.