Supercape

Notice Stealth: 1d20+4 9 I am also proactively awarding an HP each for a ruckus in a hospital, with the understanding that there will be a lot of crap hurled around! Bird of Arms - 4 HP - Staggered Spit Fire - 2 HP - Staggered

GM "Security to reception! Security to reception!" came the squark over the loudspeakers. "Oh what now..." groaned the nurse trying to treat Jann. He was an experienced and able professional, it was clear, but he also had that spice of cynicism from a few decades of his job. Boxy and Jack looked at each other, and decided, a little nervously, to check out the disturbance. Then, a scream. Another scream. And panic started rising slowly through the hospital. No gunfire...yet. Just the sound of violence. And a clinking...

Flintlock "I'm no fan of the Spanish either!" agreed Flintlock, remembering the heated sea battles around the Carribean. "Why, they are almost as bad as the English!" She started to swim back to the Black Flag. "And yet, they destroyed you, did they not? Wiped clean. Oblivion. But who do you think destroyed them?" she asked. "I did. Never a battle lost, never a ship sunk. So if I beat the men and women who beat you, what chance for you now, when I am stronger than then?" she laughed confidently. "Fire the Cannons! Destroy him!" she called to the skies, as Sweet Jennie once again fired the black iron cannons of the Black Flag, and the tentacled horror in the sea flailed it blubbered tentacles at the ghost...

Flintlock: Standard Action: Intimidate Intimidates Mortz: 1d20+16 24 Move action: Command Kraken to smash up Montz Swipes at Montz: 1d20+5 25 its all going well! Thats a DC 30 Toughness. or 35 if somehow the ghost is vulnerable to criticals. Fires Cannon at Motz: 1d20+5 20 might hit, and DC 25 if it does.

GM "I have a bad feeling about this" said Arna, intently. She peered down the crater. "I'm a book worm, not a fighter. Or a climber. I would only get in your way..." And Arna stayed back with the professor, who was very concerned about the unnatural rock formation. "No meteor does this..." she muttered to Lord Crane, who brushed her aside. "Excellent! I am sure there is a paper or two in it for you, dear lady...." Lord Crane and two of the sailors started descending, with Mr Hale Esq. It was not an easy climb, even with ropes, not with the ice and the snow, but it was not a hard one either. Plenty of handholds, plenty of blasted rocks, and a slope that whilst steep was still a slope rather than a cliff face. A slip might be dangerous however, with all that jagged rock. And yet the descent, carefully done, was not difficult. At the bottom, the rock started to smooth out, and there was a hot mist. Another one of those springs, perhaps? Not quite so stiffly boiling, but still hot. Shallow too, only a foot deep at the most. But now steam was impeding vision rather than snow. "Quite the place, Greenland!" said Lord Crane, jovially. Mr Hale Esq could feel a tug on his sword, a vibration, pulling him to the obscured centre of the crater. A howling could be heard. Wolves! of the arctic variety. How could they tolerate this heat? Perhaps they could not..hence the wild howl. In response, Lord Crane and the two sailors pulled revolvers from belt. "Be on your guard, gentlemen!" hissed Lord Crane.

For reference, the climb up/down is DC 5 using the ropes, DC 15 not using the ropes. In either case, you can take 10 and make the rolls.

Flintlock "Ow! Ow ow ow ow!" snapped Flintlock as golden coins pinged into her like a machine gun. Curses! Bruises and welts scraped over her body. If not for her eldritch tattoos, she might have been made mincemeat. The Skeleton Crew took it worse, with flesh and splintered bone popping and exploding, landing into the sea like rain. Flintlock could swear she saw an enucleated eyeball fall to the ocean beside her. Her undead crew were torn to ribbons, and fell into the sea, the waves swallowing them. All but Sweet Jennie, by the cannons, hidden under the firm planks and wood of the Black Flag, whose timbers buckled and cracked but did not sunder. "I'll guzzet your snoodleguff!" she yelled at Montenzuma. Who knew what guzzet and snoodleguff meant? but Sweet Jennie meant it, anyhows. With a determined lighting of fuse, with gnashed teeth, she fired the Cannons once more, the smoke bellowing, the iron hurling, and Montezuma's face ready to receive a right smashing...

So, Flintlock Toughness Saves Tough Saves: 2#1d20+10 22 17 ok I got it wrong so only the first save needed, that makes her bruised and dazed The Black Flag itself: Tough vs Cannon: 1d20+15 22 its injured Now the Skeleton Crew, i would imagine anyone dazed and overboard last round is probably underwater / sinking so immune, and Sweet Jennie will be by the cannons so probably protected / cover? so everybody else: Ill roll 10 times but omit Razor and Gutboy who are sinking Tough Saves vs Coins: 10#1d20+5 22 23 11 17 6 9 9 25 20 14 so they all fail and are thus "Disabled" meaning everybody but Sweet Jennie is sinking!. Don't worry folks, they are dead already! Sweet Jennie: Injured So Imagine in response Flintlock will just be dazed, whilst Sweet Jennie will fire the Cannons once more at Montz: Fires Cannon at Montz: 1d20+5 25 Bullseye crit! Now, as she is a minion its not actually a critical, but hey ho: In any case, that is a DC 25 Toughness save on him.

Flintlock "Nay beast! By the thousand faces of Nyarlothotep, I command you!" shouted Flintlock, loudly. "Crush and rend! Splinter and sunder!" she managed, before mumbling more ancient Lemurian. "And now me hearties! Don't hold back! Fire the cannons!" she commanded the Skeleton Crew. Well, those who were not falling to the ocean floor or screwing their head back on the right way. Sweet Jennie was relatively intact, at least, and grumbling and grunting, full to the brim of malice and miscontent, she swam to the Black Flag, ready to fire the guns...

Ok so not releasing the ship. Move action: Command Kraken to crush (Damage 15 effect) the ship in the grapple and to put down the Black Flag. Move action: Command the Skeleton Crew to open fire with Black Flags Cannons: Fires at the Ghsost Ship again: 1d20+5 9 which may actually miss despite the size, if so, homing next round!

Flintlock I Have Not Yet Begun To Fright (10 Posts) The Red Rat Soviet Kitch 2 Posts Anniversary Vignette Ronin Giving up the Ghost 2 Posts GM Industrial Strength 7 Posts Gun Run 23 Posts GM Posts (60 to allocate): 1 to Bloody mess, Synth, Lord Steam 25 to Starshot (for 3 PP) 15 to Flintlock (for 3 PP) 13 Left, bung onto The Red Rate (for 2 PP)

Ok as per chat, using HP to swing through the door. Edit made to IC

The Red Rat "Oh come on! Stay down!" The Rat shook the axe ready to take another swipe. Whatever malign force had overwhelmed the men and women here, it had to be given credit. Nobody should get up from a resounding clang like that. The Zombie Zeitgeist hit her for a moment, and she entertained all the usual tropes; bullets in skulls, knives in eye sockets, magnificent swings of axes cleaving through necks. But now, this man was alive, not a zombie. And would no doubt be unappreciative of decapitation. Instead, she turned heel and ran full pelt to the house. It would probably not be open.... Yes! It's locked! she sighed internally, rattling the handle impotently. But at least she had an axe! She leaned back, took her balance, and with a lungeforward, swung with all her considerable might. All those hours in the gym, pumping iron, and her body responding so quickly, well, it gave her quite the physique. And quite the swing...

GM "Whoa there!" said the nurse, his hands pulled back, his vacutainer half full of Jann's blood. "You best take it easy, sir! I mean, I know you have wings, you know, like some bird man thing...but you still got knocked out. We need to keep you in for observation!" he explained. "Never mind that" grumphed Boxy, waddling up to Jann. "We gotta few questions, if you don't mind. Like what the hell happened?" he started. "What happened? What the hell?" piped up Jack. Giving Jack a glance, without actually turning around (but a metaphorical glance it was, all the same), and chewing his mouth, Jack carried on. "We got you knocked out. Your friend here half way there, and some story about the Beastly Boys gun - running in Central Park. And some damn Red-head burning her face up. Or something. I didn't quite get it. Anywhere else, It would be a tough donut to swallow. But this is Freedom City..." he said, scratching his nose. "Can you tell me what happened? We got patrol cars going round Libety Park and I don't want them getting the hell blown up with some RPG..."

GM "Jumping on a grenade?" replied Boxy. "I don't know whether to arrest you for stupidity, or slap a medal on your lapel" he said, shrugging in disbelief. "And you are right about the gangs. Came out of razzafrazin' nowhere. We got some of them. Except...you know... them...." he said gravely. "The Cheesegraters. Man, nobody ever even seen then. But the stories..." shuddered Jack. "Anyways, if the gangs are dealing drugs, that's racking it up. Up to now, just a bit of drisorderly. The Leap Froggers tried to steal some rubies last week. Some hero dude stopped them, we think. Made a goddamn mess of it as the airport, though. We don't know quite what happened other than they took two days to sweep up the debris..." said Boxy, sadly. "Odd thing is, when we spoke to these gang guys, they didn't have much of a previous record. Some didn't have any. Just said they wanted to get high, you know...hey, what did they say, Jack?" "Wanted the buzz" piped up Jack. Boxy shook his head sadly. "Kids today..." "I think he is coming round!" said one the nurses by Jann's side, half way through taking blood from him...

GM Freedom City University Hospital *sqwark* "Yeah...sure...listen, Jack, you want to drop your customer off at the nearest mental institute?" *sqwark* replied control. "No it's the Gods honest truth!" piped Jack, high-pitched. "You tell 'em, Boxy!" he said, thrusting the radio at the fat cop. "Control, this Boxy. To truth is, even Jesus H Christ doesn't know what the hell is happening. Goddamn crazy city. So just do the best you can. Send a couple of units over to FCU ER too, will you" he finished, hanging up the radio as they pulled in to the hospital. Together they hauled out Jann, to waiting nurses and medics. "So, now we are here, you mind telling me what ripped a whole in you?" Boxy asked Spitfire.

GM En Route to FCU Hospital 17th November, Just Past Midnight In a Police Car The lights flashed and the car sped. The cops may not have been smart of head but they seemed to drive competently enough. It would be a minute or two at most. The Thin cop pulled out the radio and blurted into it. "APB Alert on Flare. I mean. A red head. Got some guns. Got red guns. And a head. Or something..." he babbled, scratching his head. He turned to look at Spitfire and Jann helplessly. "Hold that. I'm passing you over..." he conceded, giving the radio control to Spitfire. "Give control the details...hell If I understand it...." he mumbled.

GM "What?" said the two cops, in unison. "I don't understand a goddamn word of what you just said, sir" said the Fat one, who seemed, if not brighter than his thin partner, at least less nervous. It only looked as if he was going to fire his gun sometimes. On the other hand, he was sweating more. "But if your friend..the..uh...winged guy, is injured, we can escort you to hospital..." "I know CPR!" piped up the thin cop. "....you know jack, Jack" snapped back the fat cop at Jack, his thin partner, before continuing. "Get in the patrol car, we can blue light you to the ER..."

Toughness vs Coins: 1d20+15 33

Could you throw me a CHA roll for that? DC 5 THey don't panic / open fire, but they will attempt to arrest DC 10 They don't buy it, wont arrest you but will follow you to verify your story. DC 15 They buy it, waive you on.

I think Montezuma is up but made an IC post anywa to react!

Flintlock Amid the lapping waves, Flintlock surfaced to witness the fruits of her labour. Or more accurately, the fruits of the leviathan's labour. Its tentacles stretched through the water and into the air, full of ictal jerking. The large form of Lash splashed right by her, and started to sink. She was nearly hit by the huge black man, his scar tissue visible even on his decaying body. "Careful!" she reprimanded him. "Glug!" gasped Lash, his lungs full of water as he sank. No matter, he did not need to breathe. "You shall pay for this, Montezuma, mark my words!" she said, defiantly, tucking her flintlock into her belt. Powder wet, its charge was useless.

GM The two cops got out. Fat and thin. Both looked nervous, and held guns in sweaty palms. "Villain? Blew up?" said the Fat one. "Blew up? Villain?" said the Thin one. They looked at each other. Then looked at Spitfire. "What the hell is going on here?" they said, in unison. If nothing else, they at least thought alike. "Who are you?" as the Fat cop in a slow, rumbling voice. "And who is the winged guy?" asked the Thin cop in a piping voice.

As per chat, rolls for the skeleton crew apart from Handsome Jack Sailor Skill: Stay on Deck: 9#1d20+13 30 28 32 15 23 19 14 14 31 So I make this: Stays on board: One Eyed Pete, Ginger Rose, Thin Lucy, Sweet Jennie Goes for a splash: Spike the Monkey, Gutboy, Billy the Fish, Razor Renzo, Lash And now a damage 10 effect Toughness save vs Shake: 9#1d20+5 23 20 23 23 15 22 15 23 17 So One Eyed Pete: Injured Ginger Rose: Injured, Dazed Thin Lucy: Injured Spike: Injured, Overboard Gutboy: Disabled, Dazed, Overboard Billy: Injured, Overboard Razor: Disabled, Dazed, Overboard Lash: Injured, Overboard Sweet Jennie: Injured, Dazed

GM As Flare ran into the woods, fleet of foot (and in a similar direction to the old hippy), Spitfire tore out of Liberty Park. The first of the police patrol cars, its lights flashing, caught sight of him and flashed him. "Halt! Police!" came the cliche hail from the speaker. As far as Spitfire could see, the patrol car was the first on the scene. Other more distant cars could be heard, but they would be, by his judgement, at least a minute away. The streets outside the park were lit, although it was not full blaze. The car was nearly a hundred feet away, cruising at a snazzy 50mph. Perhaps close enough to make him out, perhaps not. But then, he was carrying a guy with wings...