Supercape

Go for it! For reference: Dreadnought HP 1, Bruised, Fatigued

Synth "Oh no, not again!" cursed Synth. He looked down to see some seeping blood over the costume. Damn it. He could synthesise moor blood quickly, but between his crushed nose, stabbed lung, and bullet wound...well, resources were not infinite. He needed protein! and with the thought came the craving to eat two roast chickens and wash it down with a MAXIPROT shake. But not right now. "Missed!" he called back to the shooters. Lying out of his teeth. But he felt like shoving a bit of frustration back at them. With a slight grunt, he stumbled forwards, pressing the button and hoping luck would be with him...

GM "Sure thing! I have some awesome make up artists, hey girls!" answered Zyte, giving a freaky wave to a pair of disinterested zoned out young girls wearing more make up than clothes. They waved back and giggled. "Awesome girls. Awesome talent" said Zyte, cracking his knuckles. And so, at the top of the tower, same Zyte-time, same Zyte-channel... A helicopter emblazoned with "KR!" came pounding down to the helipad. Zyte was all thumbs up signs and filming the view and arrival. And pretty much anything he could film. It was a tall tower, that was for sure. Anyone who fell off would be a pavement pizza at the bottom. If one was scared of heights, best not too look down. When the Helicopter landed, the three members of Kitty Riot! came out. Licky Spit, the bald headed tattoo'd beanpole, lead guitar, Fish Soup, the tiny dark skinned drummer with dread locks down to her ankles, and Milk Tray (Real name, Tracy Milk), the muscular bass player and backing vocalist complete with "RIOT" tattoo'd over and over again on her outstandingly ugly face. Licky Spit lead the group, and spat in Zytes face as she marched up to Wayward. Zyte seemed overjoyed and the phlegm covering his face, and smeared it on the camera lens for added authenticity. "Got the set list, baby" drawled Licky spit. "What ya wanna start with, what ya wanna finish with?"

Tough Save vs Bullet: 1d20+8 28!

Synth [As Grunt] Agents...of whom? SHADOW? AEGIS? No point in asking them. This was a world of lies. Undesirable as it was, his opportunity was limited here, jammed in. He could not afford a stealthy approach, but speed and delay. He knew he kept that gun for something. He pulled it out and unloaded six or seven rounds, rapid fire, into the air. Wouldn't hit any one, and wasn't meant to. But the agents would think twice about charging blindly if they were going to catch a bullet by doing so. That done, he tucked the gun back in, fluid and fast, and started to run towards the airlock as fast as he could - which, as it happened, was blisteringly fast.

If needed, Stealth roll: STealth: 1d20+16 26 Feel free to roll any notice rolls away from my gaze!

Synth Synth was about to throw the gun away again, before having second thoughts. If he had to shoot out some lights now, he may again. He tucked the pistol into his belt. He might need to shoot again, but he sure wasn't going to shoot anybody. Now, there was darkness, or near darkness. He couldn't see in the darkness, but hopefully neither could they. No IR goggles on his captors. And under cover of darkness he crept forward, virtually silent, nose and ears wide open to smells and sounds. With a bit of luck, he could creep out of Blackstone and the whole thing would die down. But, he sighed, he was unlikely to have a bit of luck....

GM The icy and frozen grounds of Kew Gardens now had the screams and flapping clothes of several dozen bystanders tumbling in the wind. No doubt a few bruises would be manifest by tomorrow, and mayhap a cracked rib or two. But at least people would not be burnt alive. Mr Fiddle was one of those that tumbled through the hurricane, rotating like a spinning penny and emitting an interested "Oh my!" as he did so, as if a student of strange phenomena. He seemed mightily glad that the flames had been snuffed out. The pool of fire seemed most displeased that its hard work of incendiary rain was snuffed out (quite literally). The mass of burning tendrils snaked across the ground, and in a flash, Dreadnought was standing in a patch of furious heat...

Meaning Dreadnought is up again: Bruised, 2 HP, Fatigued.

It was, thought Murk, a good answer. He had heard plenty worse. "You reassure me, sir. Vanity and hubris are, by my estimation, the most insidious and dangerous of enemies" he nodded, chewing the smoke in his mouth and the words in his mind. "For at the end of the day, even if our days stretch before us endlessly, one can only live one day at time. The rest is speculation" he conceded. "But on this matter, I am concerned. What if an immortal is encased miles beneath the earth, to live out endless days in black despair, or worse, torture and agony. The peculiarities of our condition allow horrors to be inflicted on us beyond imaging" he said, a thought that had worried him for many centuries. He had suffered plenty himself, and sometime for long periods (he shuddered at the brutality of the Spanish Inquisition, surely the worst he had had it). "I have mulled the matter over for some time. I am of the mind to do something about it. I doubt mortal kind can be relied upon to protect us, even if most would shy from inhumane tortures, not all would. And the nature of immortality, even if unbidden, breeds resentment. Even if, as you say, it may not be entirely justified..." He sat back, serious. "What say you? Mayhap it is only immortals who can look after immortals..."

Awesome sauce! Let us handwave that as blowing out the flames and bowling over as many as possible (out of danger) Are you using extra effort or HP for that? In any case, angryfire will lash out at you in response: Lashes out at Dreadnought: 1d20+12 18 which I think hits, and is a rather weak DC 23 Toughness save (fire). This just penetrates his impervious. Technically it is lethal damage, but his immunity makes it non lethal.

Limbered up by Thevshi Synth 35 PP to Spend – quite a lot, but mainly refining pre-existing sheet and bringing up to PL 11 Fluff: Could you edit trade offs now +1 Attack/-1 DC, +1 Defence/-1 Toughness Could you edit PL up to 11 Could you edit age up to 7 Abilities: 7 PP Increase DEX to 42 (+16) Saving Throws: 2 PP Increase Fortitude: +14 (+10 Con, +4) [+16 With Rage] Reflex is now +16 Combat: 8 PP: Add +2 to Attack Bonus and +2 to Defence Bonus for 4 PP each Initiative no PP cost but with DEX increase now +20 Grapple no PP cost but with DEX increase now +28 (+31 with hypertrophied muscles) Skills: 10 PP Increase skills to 100 Ranks = 25 PP. +4 Ranks Bluff, Climb, Craft (Mechanical), Intimidate, Behavioural Sciences, Life Sciences, Medicine, Sense Motive, Stealth, Swim Including the improved DEX this makes… Acrobatics 8 (+24) Bluff 4 (+6) Climb 4 (+6) Craft (Mechanical) 4 (+7) Diplomacy 4 (+6) Disguise 0 (+2) Skill Mastery [+20/+22 With Morph] Drive 4 (+20) Skill Mastery Escape Artist 0 (+16) Skill Mastery [With Hypermobile Muscles 16 (+32)] Intimidate 4 (+6) Knowledge (Behaviour Sciences) 8 (+11) [Enhanced: 16 (+19)] Knowledge (Life Sciences) 8 (+11) [Enhanced: 16 (+19)] Knowledge (Streetwise) 4 (+7) Language 4 (English, French, German, Russian, Swedish) Medicine 8 (+12) Skill Mastery [Enhanced: 16 (+20)] Notice 12 (+16) Search 4 (+7) Sense Motive 8 (+12) Stealth 8 (+24) Swim 4 (+12) Feats: 3 PP Add: Defensive Attack Move by Action Ultimate Effort [Fort Saves] Powers: 5 PP Increase immunity by 2 PP to make: Immunity 7 (Aging, Cold, Critical Hits, Disease, Own infection power, Poison) “Synthetic Organism” [Biological] Supersense adds 1 PP, adding in Low Light Vision to make: Super Senses 7 (Acute Olfactory, Analytical Tactile, Extended Hearing 1 [x10], Extended Olfactory 1 [x10], Extended Vision 1 [x10], Low Light Vision, Tracking [Olfactory]) [7 PP] “Synthetic organism” [Biological] Synthetic Cell Array adds 2 PP to give two additional AP. This makes: Synthetic Cell Array (21 PP Array, Feats: Alternative Power 4) [25 PP] [Biological / Cellular] BP: Nauseate 10 (Extras: Contagious, Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Requires Grapple) [21/21PP] “Infect” AP: Healing 10 (Extras: Total, Feats: Regrowth, Flaws: Tiring) [21/21] “Regenerate” AP: Strike 10 (Extras: Alt Save [Fort], Vampiric, Feats: Incurable, Flaws: Requires Grapple)[21/21PP] “Cannibalize” AP: Nullify 10 (All mutation powers, Extras: Alt Save [+0, Fort], Disease [+2], Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Range [Touch], Requires Grapple) [21/21 PP] “Genetic shutdown” AP: Nauseate 10 (Extras: Area [Cloud], Contagious, Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Action [Full], Tiring) [21/21 PP] “Shed infected skin spores”

GM "Sure thing, Rockette" replied Zyte, almost professional for one fleeting picosecond. "This here is Zane! My bodyguard. Used to be an extreme sports stunt kinda guy. My maaaain man!". Zane! who was pleasant enough but not the shaprest tool in the box gave a big smile and wave towards Wayward. "And this here is Alice my wonddeeerrrrr woman!" she said, as Alice rolled her eyes and sigh. "Don't let her fool ya! She loves me, don't ya, peanuts?" he continued, undefeated. "Sure, Zyte. I love you" sighed Alice, and mouthed dick-head to Val with her eyes indicated just who that label belonged to. "Well, its gonna be one hell of a show! Always happy to have some suprises! Keeps it fresh and sparklesnappy!" said Zyte, considering the matter and stroking his goatee. "Sure, sure, I can dig it, Like rock-jazz fusion. On the edge, man. On the funkin funked EDGE!" he said, growing more excited with every moment of contemplation. He got a call to the ear piece. "Oh man, Kitty Riot are here! You wanta meet them or freshen up, Rockette?" he asked Val.

Also given the havoc, I will award an HP! (edit made to 2 HP above post)

GM The earth flipped over like a pancake, rumbling over the pool of fire. There was a horrible smoky wail, which sent a chill of dread down all that heard it. The panic now rose, and unfortunately worse was to come. As the beast flailed, as the earth smashed into it, embers and pellets of fire exploded to the sky, and suddenly Kew Gardens was raining fire. Mr. Fiddle screeched as his left arm caught fire, and he started to bravely put it out - but that was sure to leave a scar and give a sting. Somehow, Mr. Murk, despite being blind, seemed to be standing in about the only place where fire was not falling. Poor Ms. Longfields dress caught fire, and the heroic Lord Rhodes responded by pushing her away and running full speed away from the infernal situation. Here, there, and everywhere, people were either alight or trying to put out the fires on those that were alight. It was all relatively minor sizzles for Dreadnought, of course, who was not even singed when the embers fell on his shoulders, but more than a few people would have a scar to remember the night by, and it looked like Ms. Longfield would have plenty of scars, or worse, if that dress was not put out...

So for the flip, I will treat this as an area attack on the Firepool demon, and STR damage, although I will give it a +2 situational bonus on the tough save for at the end of the day it is still an insubstantial being. On the flip side, being stupid and not expecting this, I will say it cannot pass its reflex save. Toughness vs Earth flip: 1d20+10 24 thats a DC 32 TOughness save so bruised and dazed. Unfortunately flames fly every where! (see IC post!) HAVOOOC!

Round 1 7 - Dread0, unharmed 2 HP 0 - Firepool demon, unharmed

YOu may roll! But the Firepool demon has an initiative of 0 thanks to low INT! Feel free to flip the landscape according to your upcoming IC post!

Synth This, surely, was not good. He had no chance of escape, not in a well lit corridor in Blackstone. And worse, somebody was coming. Probably someone not good. With a quick turn and fluid sharp movements he reached back down to the lift floor, picking up the ammo clip and the gun. He didn't like guns, not one bit, but on reflection it was because they were used to shoot people. Whereas of course they could shoot things other than people. He had never shot one before, but his arms were steady as a rock and his vision like a birds. So, concentrating, he slotted the ammo clip back in, and took aim... For the lights...

"Dead, are you?" answered Erasmus carefully. This was more of a tricky matter. A grey area, so to speak. "Yet you seem to move, seem to speak and think. What then, is death? The chill of an unbeating heart? The stillness of blood and breath? If you are dead, then it seems to me there are many different forms of death, and many that do not deserve that name" he said, finishing his brandy and continuing his smoke. "As for me, I cannot consider you dead. No, you are alive, Sir. Just transformed" he explained, which was his normal take on those in Comrade Frost's position. That said, many of those in his position were of vile and callous disposition and would very much be better dead. "I wonder then, what perspective you have on the endless days ahead? If one lives for ever, it is not a question of when you will some deed of noble or ignoble quality, but simply a matter of when. No vice you will not try? No love you will not experience? No horror you will not inflict? Is this, do you think, the nature of the infinite? Anything that it is possible for you to do, no matter how infinitely small in probability, will come to be..."

Synth These were clearly very well trained and equipped operatives - not surprisingly really, for getting into, and out of Blackstone was no mean feat and beyond the capabilities of even supervillains, let alone regular SHADOW grunts. He had no time for guns, so quickly ejected the magazines and discarded them. Knives, too, were not his thing. He would not kill, bar most exceptional of circumstance. He did, however, pocket the venom and antidote, giving each a quick sniff. He would be alert for drinking anything with that aroma. As the lift stopped he quickly danced to the side to get some cover, and risked peeking out...

Erasmus nodded, listening carefully, and judging Frost honest. Up to a point. Everyone deceived to a degree, the liar to his friends, the honest man to himself. "I was born a very long time ago, when the world was brutal and beautiful" he started. "I could not to justice to the long days of my life, at least without driving you mad with boredom. I have been called by many names. The Godhammer, Blindeye, and so on. As you surely note I am blind, but am able, in a manner of speaking, to see what will come. A prophet, an oracle. The future is obscured and shadowed, but I see it still" He sighed, not entirely happy about his visions. "And I see times of great change in the decades to come. In the centuries, even. Invasions from other worlds, from cities beneath the seas. A Roman and a Tyrant from other dimensions clash to save or enslave this world....and much much more..." he said, frowning. "In all this, the life of the immortal is a strange one. And, If I am right, you now will not die? You will live to see the strange days in centuries to come?"

Synth [as Grunt] Time was pressing, as it so often seemed to be for Synth. But there was still some seconds, and he would spend them well. He reached down to pat the two agents down. They would surely not be carrying "Ernest VIL, Agent of SHADOW" cards, but there might be something to give him a clue. Or, failing that, something helpful. If he could get out of Blackstone, he would take the opportunity, and presumably the two agents had made plans to do just that. In any case, he was feeling a little better. Not the most pleasant way to dispose of a villain, but, he had to confess, he was feeling better. Physically and, to be honest, mentally. A little dose of satisfaction...

I think that makes Synth bruised x2. He is going to try a quick search / pat down of the SHADOW? agents: if you need a search roll, Search agents: 1d20+7 16 Using his senses (acute olfactory, analytical touch) if that is pertinent.

"A fair question" replied Murk. He chewed it over only briefly; he had not come here for deception, although he had no aversion to misleading and lying if need be. "My name is Erasmus Murk" he answered, as he let the Murk dimension fall of him. Now, in front of Comrade Frost sat a blind Neanderthal albino in the clothes of an English Gentleman. Hertzmann did not raise his eyebrows, for he knew that Mr Murk had a talent for disguise of the Eldritch variety. He did not understand it, but dealing in the underground of Berlin included the fallout from Hitler's arcane obsession, and he was aware that the arcane was real. He didn't quite understand that Mr. Murk was not, strictly, speaking, human. But of course it would take a blind man not to note he was of most unusual (and ugly) nature. "I am a Lawyer. English, as it happens" he said, keeping to German. It would not do to let Hertzmann know too much. Erasmus was quite aware that Comrade Frost could easily overpower him. Freeze the blood or chill the brain. He was not unduly concerned; Comrade Frost did not seem the kind of immortal that did such a thing. And besides, even if the worst came to the worst, Erasmus could dig himself out of whatever grave that buried him in. "I hope you are not overly alarmed. I suspect you are, as they say, a cool customer" he grinned.