Supercape

That does hit, and Vassily (Who is actually the one shooting at you!) scores: Toughness vs JOhn Smith: 1d20+5 20 making him bruised! Post away IC and I will respond with their actions.

Flintlock "Das Schwarze Flag ist die Shnellest Ship on das Sea!" blurted Handsome Jack, offended. Perhaps in life his German, or English, had been better. His Zombie brain tended to make a horrible bastard of the two languages. "Easy there, Jack! We don't want these fine people thinking you are a brain eating zombie, now, do we?" said Flintlock. "Errr...Nein?" whimpered an unsure and slightly awkward looking Jack. "<But that whale brain Gutboy cooked up last week was delicious!>" he whispered to Flintlock in a more acceptable German. "The Black Flag can make Mississipi within the day. By afternoon, if the seas are good" said Flintlock in a cheery voice. "It is the fastest ship on the sea. I could even make it faster, if we travel by...uhhh...other seas. But I doubt you want the freezing winds of Leng or the black bile of Mootlestain. Unpleasant at best, dangerous at worse" she said, serious and black for a moment. "But if anyone can get us there faster, that's fine by me, me hearties!"

Ok so Vassily firing at John, which might miss - its technically total concealment but there is a pretty limited amount of places he can be so downgrading it to partial concealment: FIres at John, concealedish miss chance: 1d4 2 and he is broadly on target. John is probably flat footed hanging onto a car. Fires pistol at the Tattered Man: 1d20+5 22 in any case, that hits. Its a damage 4 effect, but as its firing through the roof of a car Ill rule that as halving the damage to 2, so a Toughness 17 save for John. What with that, and the slamming of cars together, can he make a Reflex DC 15 roll to cling on and not get thrown? If he does, lets give him another Toughness 20 save. In any case, very dramatic and heroic stuff, trying to save the dame, etc, so banging him up to (with burning HP to remove fatigue) HP 2

GM There were two men in the SUV. Russians, hard faced and hard nosed. Goergy, JOhn knew from his vision. The other was a large man, a little over six feet and with that solid broad frame that spoke of a little fat, a lot of bone, and even more muscle. Both had tattoos that looked suspiciously military, although others looked just plain nasty. In the backseat was a huge mini gun. It was doubtful that anyone normal could lift it, but the large Russian was reaching over for it when John landed. Some Russian swearing erupted from them both. Georgy kept his hands on the wheel, snarled, and accelerated. the other man, whom it seemed was called "Vassily" pulled out a large hand gun from the glove compartment, and spitting curses from his mouth, spitted lead from his gun, bullets thudding through the roof. The SUV jumped forward and slammed into Janes care, busting up both bumpers and jarring everybody...

Flintlock "Don't mind them. They are me loyal crew. Fine sailors, fine gentlemen, and zombies. Or at least, one of those three" she answered Asad. "Well me hearties, if you want to fight pirates, you best become one! I can get you anywhere in this world, or others, on me ship, The Black Flag! Fastest thing on the seas, might of cannon, billowing of sail, full of salted meats and rum. You couldn't ask for a finer vessel!" she said, with some justification. "And I give you some proper pirate clothes. Some proper threads. Maybe some jewels! And hats! Yes! Hats! Always good to have hats!" She tipped her own purple one proudly. "Although Sinbad here looks the part already! Don't you, me heartie!" she said, fondly, with a wink, and a quick tug of his beard.

The Red Rat Yes yes, breeding more Capitalists. Terrible thing, that. Nothing much to report for an evening in Bedlam then. The lead paint might be a cunning counter-subterfuge measure. It was probably just cheap paint that bordered on a health and safety hazard. Not that Bedlam paid a lot of attention to health and safety. Other than, arguably, trying to minimise both. The key was the computer. SLAVE could, hopefully, hack into it, but she needed to be nearby. Not right next to it, but nearby. She approached the front door, lock picks at the ready...hopefully it would not be a good lock. Hopefully she could pick it. Hopefully nobody would see her. A lot of hope, for Bedlam.

Cool, you can post all of that, for reference: Tattered Man - 2 HP - Fatigued GIven the nature of the scene, I am inclined to do away with initiative and just go in rotation between Tattered Man and the Russians?

GM "A motel? You know how to treat a lady on the first date, huh?" she said, a moment of jocularity providing antidote to the situation. An engine revved behind them. In the mirror, John saw a flash of the SUV, dented on one side, broken windshield, cracked windscreen. A couple of lights out, but still operational. He saw a glimpse of the two men in. He couldn't quite make out the larger man in the passenger sheet. But he could make out the smaller man. A wire. Bald, scarred. Someone he had seen before. Goergy the Strangler. The Russian was admirably persistent, with a grim smile on his cracked lips. He accelerated at top speed towards the back end of Johns car...

GM The SUV behind them kept its lights on, and, with a thundering of engine and squeal of rubber, accelerated right towards them. "Aiiii! Moooove!" screamed Jane. Her care buzzed into life. With a carefully calculated patience, John kept the engine throttled up, and the handbrake on, only releasing it at the last minute, jolting the car forward and slamming Jane into her seat. "AAaahhhgh! Seatbelt!" she screamed at herself, plugging herself quickly in. The SUV was not agile enough, or the driver not quick enough, It turned, slammed on the break, but John was away. It slammed up the pavement and collided, side on, with the building. There was the sound of shattering glass. "Drive! Drive!" yelled Jane, with a perfect redundancy. "Haven't you got some super secret Tattered-cave or something?"

Synth (as Bella) Oooohhhh.... "AEGIS? they were..what, here?" she asked. She was only half-surprised. She had imagined the investigation was still embryonic, or distant. At the least, she hadn't expected that all the staff were grilled. Sarah thought she was an AEGIS agent? It was a risky road to take. Maybe...but not quite yet. "Sarah..please. I do my research, that's true. I'm a scientist, after all" she said, pleadingly. "And this is Freedom City. The best of places to get a science job, but also the worst. Its a cutting edge city, but cutting edge can become bleeding edge" "I'm just looking to make a difference. Get a good job, but not sacrifice my morals when doing it. I think AEGIS probably do a good job, but I don't want to get mixed up with that sort of thing" she explained. "Maybe I did use you. I am scouting for work, and...well...you were kind and showed me around. You gave me a feel for the place that I would never have got, even if I had worked here a month. Maybe...maybe I'm paranoid" she said, ashamed of herself. "And even if I was AEGIS..would I have...you know..." she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Starshot Gunmonkey and Starshot were taking the Xeno out of orbit to the tune of German Opera. He got up from the cockpit leaving his co-pilot in charge, destination: Just get out of this system... "Coming right over" Whilst most of the Xeno was essentially a Yacht class design; luxury, comfort, and so on, the Engineering section, including the workshops, were more functional. Still good, but without the leather backed chairs and stuffed animal heads. Whilst Starshot liked a whiskey and a game of Zabraxian chess, he sometimes felt more home in the functional parts of the ship. "And that's a long name" he muttered. "Well done. At least we have a name to go on" he said, expressing confidence in Gear. He didn't much understand the data that his friend had collected. "The next problem is how to find him. Any ideas?"

GM The Skeleton Crew started waking up. They looked somewhere between rotting zombies and skeletons. The reason for looking like something like that was because that was precisely what they were. Only in pirate outfits. Handsome Jack had not been a handsome man in life. The dour German had been infamous for his pig-ugly nose. It mattered not so much when half of it has rotted off. Out of all the Skeleton Crew, he, as the first mate, was the only one with a degree of professionalism. He was a good sailor. He was also a little hungover, but less so. Nobody quite understood how the undead crew could get drunk, but they did. "Arr, Das Map!" he said, stabbing a finger on the article in question. "I know exactly where das is!" he concluded proudly to everyone. He paused an uncomfortable moment and went back to peering, closely at the map. "Stockholm! In Denmark!" he said, proudly. Flintlock clipped him round the ear. "Frunken Dool!" she slurred. "I mean...Drunken Fool! That's not anywhere! And anyway...Stockholms in...errr...Finland...No...Wait! Sweden!" she said, demonstrating superior geographical skills despite intoxication. She looked at the map a bit more seriously this time, knee on stool, elbow on knee, hand on chin. "Well, I say we check Mississippi coast first. They probably have the best rum" she concluded.

Again, whilst technically burning an HP I think we can simultaneously award one for bringing along a "civvie" and having her as a complication for this scene. Just so we keep track, HP 2.

GM Jane stood up, car keys in hand. It looked like she was ready to use them in a punch, but she soon switched them to a more regular use. Namely, opening her car. "Come on, we gotta get out of here!" she hissed. "Blowfish and his pet goons will be on us..." She scuttled across the seat to her car, opening it up... ...as another car, an SUV, pulled into Mootle street. Its beamed lights were dazzling and illuminated Jane and John in bright stark light. It revved its engine. "oh...shoot...." moaned Jane.

Intimidate roll vs Intimidate: 1d20+4 10 Its good enough, feel free to narrate them excreting inappropriately and running off (or whatever you fancy). Just a small distraction for narrative purposes!

GM "Oh shoot! My car! We can't leave it here!" she moaned, cursing herself. "I mean, not the money. Well, maybe a bit the money...can't leave an abandoned car in Mootle street for long without it getting torn apart by thieves. But...they are sure to come back. Maybe soon. If we leave the care they will check the plates" she said, getting anxious. "We need to drive out of here" was her conclusion. At that moment, a couple of street punks turned into Mootle street, trying to act tough. Leather Jackets, dyed hair in spiky styles, and a liberal adornment of facial piercings and tattoos. Three of them, the same build, all pepping each other. "Well hellooo! What have we here?" said the first, trying to act cool and intimidating at the same time, folding his arms and striking a pose. "Spare some change for Mootle street?" asked the second, a bit more boldly, indicating that it was not a request. It was a mugging.

Synth (As Bella) "Know what?" said Synth, innocently. Innocently and honestly. She did not quite understand what Sarah was getting at. She swallowed her self-disgust, and smiled. It was not totally false; Sarah was a nice person, friendly, engaging. And they had share...what was it? a moment? It was all a bit strange for Synth. She was only a couple of years old, after all. "Know how great you are?" she suggested. "I didn't. But you showed me!" "But lets get away from work, huh? Is there anywhere you would like to take me?"

GM "What...? Oh hell..." Jane ducked behind the dumpster, huddled up, as the patrol car slowly edged away. In suspiciously accelerated after breaking line of sight, its tires squealing slightly. "Has it gone? Damn Bedlam! I guess he was spooked, as spooked as we were" she mumbled. "I don't know how much more of this I can take!" she said pulling her hair. "I really don't. Why did I move to Bedlam, of all places? Because I thought I could make a difference! Hah! If I could meet myself ten years ago I would slap myself so hard..." Mootle street was quiet. A rat ran over Johns feet, seeing if there was anything to gnaw. Jane noticed but didn't bat an eyelid. As the day went, rats were not an issue. "It must have radio'd our presence. Blowfish can work fast, when he puts his mind to it, it seems...."

Synth (as Marie Shane) "Shaw? Good idea" she said positively. Sarah Shaw! The woman I... She brought her mind back to the present. Her heart tore again. Synth was horrified by manipulation and paradoxically most able to do so. But right now, time was running out. "I'll speak to her, then! Thanks for all your help!" she said, breezily. She sped back to the rest rooms, hopeful that the real Marie was still out cold. And with retrograde amnesia from transient hypoxia added her memories. That would be a push of luck, but it was possible. She did not want to stay longer in the building. She had mined the low-hanging fruit, and it was on AEGIS watchlist. Better to arrange a date with Sarah this evening, and see what she knew. The memories of Lena came up once more, implying it might even be pleasant, but alas those memories were but skeletal echoes, a sticking plaster on the gaping wound of guilt. A self-loathing made her grimace. No! Stay with it...think of what Hull might do...she told herself. It was an effective mantra, but the bad taste was still in her mouth.

Synth (as Marie Shane) "When we have AEGI...ah...." she cut herself off. "Sorry, but you know how it is. Everyone is on edge on top, jittery. Look, I can't tell you much, but you must have seen it? The nerves? Everyone covering their own backside?" She wiped her brow from genuine sweat. "I have a horrible feeling Mr Hull is, appropriately for his name, going to sink us..." He just might, too. Williams and Knight may not be completely clean, but what business is? They aren't the root of the rot, however. Jason Hull looks like he is the kind of man who would do anything to anybody... "I'm going to have to get some help on this. We need to speak to him. So, in the spirit of newfound interest in gossip, do you know where he might be?"

GM Jane sighed and forced the tears to stay. "I knew it, of course. It's a relief, somehow. Like a weight of my shoulders, even if it does make cold" She stroked the dumpster. Filthy, of course, but somehow she needed a tactile connection. "Its liberating, too. Now I know, I can act without doubt. Its like the chains have fallen off" she explained, her hands turning to fists. "But at the same time, I can feel myself sinking. Into the mire of Bedlam. Life will not be the same on this road, it will be bitter and poisoned. I must embrace that, though. I cannot ignore it..." She turned to John. "Georgy and Blowfish need to pay. One way or another...." Behind her, John saw a police car slowly, quietly, sidling down Mootle street. It seemed to be driving a little too slowly. The police officer took a look at John and Jane, his gaze lingering a little too long...

Flintlock "AEGIS? Didn't I take you dancing at King Louis' ball in Paris?" she said rubbing her eyes. "No! Wait! That AEGIS!" she said, snapping her fingers into a mime pistol pointed at Hannah. "Yes, some kind of secret service thing. I remember now. Very sexy! Double-oh-seven, Dum dum de daaah - de darr darr!" she sang. "Well count me in then. Do I get a poison tipped umbrella? I always wanted one of those!" She turned to Amir, put her fists on her hips. "Well, hello Sinbad! I have a bottle of rum and a shiny cutlass for you, my hirsute friend!" she laughed. She bowed at Hannah. "Consider myself, the Skeleton Crew, and the Black Flag at your disposal" she said, so deep her bow that her hat fell off and her hair brushed her boots. She pinged up straight again, eyes wide, and placed her hat on head once more. "Do you know where we should set sail to? Or do we have to tread feet on dry land?"

Search: 1d20+7 9 Fail!

Ok he sees the strangler jump Vanity, and, well strangle her. Feel free to narrate the details. You can get a mental image of the attacker -5'7", wiry strength, bald, a scar on his head. Enough to know he is indeed, as predicted, Goergy the strangler. If the strangler speaks it will be relatively brief like "Blowfish told ya not to leave", and in a Russian accent.

GM A bit later, around 1am... ...Mootle street. Jane had a black car, second hand but functional. Perhaps a target for theft, but it was not too ostentatious. Functional, reliable. Maybe even fast if you were inclined, but it was no sports car. It was not exactly filthy inside, more chaotic. Bits of paperwork, a few miscellaneous books, foodstuffs, and bottled water. A good enough ride. And she dove with hands gripped on the wheel, hey eyes on the road, full of anticipation. Mootle street was not a famous street. Run down, rough. Rougher than even your average Bedlam street, but not barbaric or anarchic enough to make it infamous. It was a block from the Bad Beat. A few poor artists and students lived her, amongst street hustlers, drug dealers, and the men and women who worked nocturnally. At this time, even those trades were beginning to fade. On a corner, tucked into a wet and rat infested side alley, was the dumpster in question. Jane pulled up. She was both angry and sad again, like a curtain of steel had fallen on her face. "There it is. Lets get this over with. Do you need any chants or runes or anything?"