Supercape

GM Something had changed with the urn since she had last spied it. It was pounding, like a heart beat. Like it had been shocked to life, like it had awoken. To eyes that would not see, it would just feel horrible, a deep rooted unpleasant situation. To eyes that saw, like Gretchens, it was otherworldly, and not in a pleasant or good way. Just the softest of glances, and she was looking at something else. Beneath Cyclopean Masonry under the darkest and deepest of oceans, something stirred. It lay beneath the blackest of muds. Strange fish, with dull purple lights, and dozens of black eyes mouthed mindlessly through the dirty depths, eating the cold rotten algae that spewed forth from subterrenean vents. Beneath still, endless chasms, deformed blind humans of great strength and degenerate minds danced and prayed to strange gods. Spinning outwards, endless space, dead stars, stars that shone with light that could not be seen, and stars that burned alive and sentient, but mad. Wheeling dimensions beyond dreams and reality. And at the centre of it all, formless scales and serpents, mercurial amorphous Gods bubbling in endless universes, attended by dancing horrors that cavorted to piping music and horrible whistling... The heart was now alive. And that meant it could bleed...

Ok I laughed good at that. Have one of those rare but deserved HP for being plain spectacularly entertaining. Echo - Bruised, 2 HP At this stage I am inclined to drop out of combat as Deadbolt will have a good lead on you, and we have Neutron closing in (on both you and Deadbolt). Combat might resume soon, of course.

No, just nearby, strolling past Silbermans in a bit I guess but guided by you.

If Black was shocked by the nuances of Terrifica, his poker face didn't show it. Slowly, deliberately, he gave his cards one more shuffle and put them down deliberately. His identity was generally only known to AEGIS. It was neither a flimsy cover, nor a robust one. Enough digging, enough effort, you could find out that Sebastian Black was the Handyman. It was a good enough cloak to prevent him being recognised for the most part. No point in calling Terrifica's bluff. She was smart beyond anything he had met, or even read about. And, he judged, little point in pretending to the others present. His identity was to stop his past catching up with him. And as far as he could tell, the rich, bloated, and criminal fools he had cheated and stolen from were not present here today. He flicked out the King of Spades from the deck, and threw it to the centre of the table. It slid perfectly in place infront of Terrifica, who picked it up curiously. Without a word, Sebastian Black snapped his fingers into a gun shape. There was a faint but quite audible POP! and a slight smell of ozone. And the card was back in the Handymans hand. "Seems you know some secrets" he commented, slow, dry and deep. "The Handyman is here as well" he concluded.

The good Captain Flintlock was not best pleased with grinding metal. Just the sort of screech she never liked in the first place, and, she judged, a very respectable pitch and tone if one was designing a sound to wake up people who would best not be woken up. Still. "Aye, its a secret door! I always wanted to find one of those!" It had been a long life, but secret doors had not, to date, been part of her life's tapestry. "Ladies first!" she winked to Cik, as she let herself enter the passageway first. No time like the present, especially with sleeping (or possibly not sleeping) persons nearby. Out of habit, she drew her Flintlock Pistol. It seemed appropriate, even if summoning the dread talons of Weng-Gnarloc would be much more effective...

For himself, Black didn't carry handguns. He could shoot them if needed to, but his hands did a better job than most bullets. Still, no problem with the agents being armed. Having studied the files, he had decided he really didn't want to get into a fight with Grimalkin. He doubted he would even draw even. Not in a fair fight, anyway. He had no problems fighting unfair, as long as it was unfair to his opponent, rather than himself. And this being her home turf, it was hardly likely to swing his way. "I lost my appetite" he replied, with a smile, tossing the files to one side. Sullivan seemed ok to him, but Ramirez made him nervous. That kind of spring loaded body caused more problems than it solved, in his opinion. "You should take up yoga" he risked, trying to be friendly to her. "Great for core" he added. The stakeout could be long, he decided. But so be it. He could be patient. Very patient, if need be. He flicked through the various recordings, sorting out the files on the van computer, checking to see if there were any interesting or recognisable faces. "A coffee would be good, whilst we wait. Ill go nab some..." he volunteered. Just to stretch his legs. Should be a good coffee shop nearby, and, without his mask, he was just a guy in a suit and fedora. And, he could light up outside, take a draw to relieve the boredom and his withdrawal symptoms. And it would be good to get to see the place with his own eyes rather than through cameras...

"*Ahem*" coughed Erasmus Bolt, as loudly as he could muster. He quite fancied snooping around the office, acting all James Bond, but frankly, he wasn't a spy, and until the most magnificent Mr Mars did something to really vex him, he would abide by reasonably civil decorum. That said, he wasn't averse to sweeping his microscopically focused gaze around the room examining its crooks, its crannies, and the holographic display. qraW 00.4? what does that mean? it didn't ring any bells with him. Maybe a code? or some internal company reference? it could be pretty much anything. Nice display, though. Maybe better in blue. He grunted again, and waited for the man to wake up...

The dusty corpses were unsteady but not slow, moving with staccato myoclonic jerks, like puppets on piano wire. From dry throats and cracked lips, a sort of speech came, ancient and as dusty as the corpses themselves. Even if it was a language Presto knew, it would have been hard to understand from the rasping voices. But, angry they were. They advanced ominously. The one in the lead pointed at the Count, with blazing black eyes. "Shubbotheth! Shubbotheth!" he repeated over and over again, raising his arm to strike the frail man. "My curse...." whispered the Count to Presto..."they can...see me....and they will destroy me...." he almost sounded resigned to his apparent fate of getting his head pulped by skeletal fists....

Initiative: 1d20-1 19 for the cave guardians, but lets hold off a moment for drama and talk!

On requset for EP, a nemesis for Queenie Spice Power Level: 11; Power Points Spent: 220 STR: -2 (6), DEX: +6 (22), CON: +10 (30), INT: -1 (8), WIS: +4 (18), CHA: +1 (12) Tough: +10, Fort: +10, Ref: +8, Will: +5 Skills: Knowledge (life sciences) 4 (+3), Knowledge (popular culture) 4 (+3), Notice 4 (+8), Profession (Food Critic) 8 (+12), Stealth 4 (+22) Feats: Ambidexterity, Attack Focus (melee) 5, Improved Grapple Powers: Additional Limbs 4 (10 extra limbs, Feats: Ambidexterity, Improved Grapple; Duration (continuous)) Comprehend 2 (plants - speak to, plants - understand) Creeping Vines (Snare 10) (DC 20; Contagious, Regenerating; Range (touch); Reversible) Numbing Poison Cloud (Dazzle 10) (Alternate; affects: 2 sense types - olfactory plus tactile, DC 20; Burst Area (50 ft. radius), Poison; Range (touch); Subtle (subtle)) Sleeping Spores (Fatigue 10) (Alternate; DC 20; Cloud Area (50 ft. diameter, lingers); Subtle (subtle)) Elongation 4 (Elongation: 50 ft., range incr 40 ft., +4 Escape & Grapple; Duration (continuous)) Immunity 7 (aging, critical hits, sleep, starvation & thirst, suffocation (all)) Mind Reading 5 (DC 15; Action 2 (free), Burst Area (25 ft. radius), Duration 2 (continuous), Sensory Link; Feedback, Limited (Surface Thoughts only)) Regeneration 33 (recovery rate (bruised) 3 (recover 1 / round without rest), recovery rate (disabled) 8 (recover 1 / round without rest), recovery rate (injured) 6 (recover 1 / round without rest), recovery rate (staggered) 6 (recover 1 / round without rest), resurrection 10 (instantly); Limited (ONly physical damage (not from feedback or psychic)); Persistent, Regrowth) Shrinking 12 (-12 STR, -3 size categories, -15 ft. movement; Permanent; Innate) Super-Senses 3 (accurate: Scent, scent; Custom (Analytical Smell)) Teleport 10 (200000 miles as full action; Accurate; Long-Range, Medium (Vegetable Matter)) Toxic touch (Nauseate 5) (DC 15; Aura, Permanent, Duration 2 (sustained); Sicken) Attack Bonus: +5 (Ranged: +5, Melee: +10, Grapple: -8/-4) Attacks: Creeping Vines (Snare 10), +10 (DC Ref/Staged 20), Mind Reading 5 (DC Will 15), Numbing Poison Cloud (Dazzle 10) (DC Fort/Ref 20), Sleeping Spores (Fatigue 10) (DC Fort 20), Toxic touch (Nauseate 5), +10 (DC Fort/Staged 15), Unarmed Attack, +10 (DC 13) Defense: +10 (Flat-footed: +5), Size: Diminutive, Knockback: -2 Initiative: +6 Drawbacks: Disability, very common, moderate, Blind, Disability, very common, moderate, Deaf Languages: English Totals: Abilities 48 + Skills 6 (24 ranks) + Feats 5 + Powers 152 + Combat 14 + Saves 3 - Drawbacks 8 = 220 Spice is actually an interstellar plant species that landed on earth millenia ago, dormant. Somehow, it ended up in the mouth of renowned food critic Cressida Crow, who spat it out, disgusted, at Queenies restaurant. The alien poison sent Cressida into an apoplectic fury, and she has blamed Queenie for the accident ever since. And Spice absorbed her personality. It is an empathy plant, able to pick up on the thoughts of others, and when activated, it took on Cressidas personality (albeit in a distorted way...) Spice is a tiny little purple plant with numerous tendrils it can extend. It is blind and deaf, but can communicate with other plants and has an excellent sense of smell. More importantly, it is always in tune with the senses of others. In fact, this is also its weakness...Spice can regenerate almost indefinately (although some chemicals, or lack of any earth or organic matter might stop this), but not psychic damage - if others around it that it is linked to are hurt, so will Spice be. Spice pops up everywhere, curious and empathic, but also, with Cressidas personality - obnoxious, angry, contemptuous and deeply insecure. But most importantly, Spice is deeply pro-vegetable. It thinks humans should only eat meat, and leave vegetables alone. Woe to all cooks, farmers, and vegetarians! Especially vile is the consumption of herbs and spices, the most beautiful of all plant life to Spice's refined nose!

At AA's request, a nemesis for Sea Devil Blackmud Power Level: 10; Power Points Spent: 186 STR: +6 (22), DEX: +0 (10), CON: +6 (22), INT: +4 (18), WIS: -1 (8), CHA: -1 (8) Tough: +6, Fort: +12, Ref: +5, Will: +8 Skills: Intimidate 12 (+11), Knowledge (earth sciences) 12 (+16), Knowledge (history) 4 (+8), Language 8 (+8), Notice 8 (+7), Search 4 (+8), Sense Motive 4 (+3), Stealth 4 (+4), Survival 4 (+3), Swim 4 (+10) Feats: All-Out Attack, Fearsome Presence 5, Luck 5, Power Attack, Rage 2 (+1 Increased Duration x5 rounds), Ritualist Powers: Burrowing 5 (Speed: 25 mph, 220 ft./rnd) Swimming 5 (Alternate; Speed: 50 mph, 440 ft./rnd) Comprehend 2 (objects - speak to, objects - understand; Broad Group (Earth and Mud)) Enhanced Trait 5 (Feats: Luck 5; Limited (Only for rituals)) Immunity 12 (aging, disease, entrapment, poison, sleep, starvation & thirst, suffocation (all)) Mad Mud (Confuse 10) (DC 20; Burst Area (50 ft. radius); Limited (Only those standing in mud), Range 2 (touch); Subtle 2 (unnoticable), Triggered 2 (any trigger)) Mud Magic (Element Control 10) (element: earth) Disease Touch (Nauseate 5) (Alternate; DC 15; Disease) Muddy Breath (Suffocate 5) (Alternate; DC 15; Perception Range) Very muddy magic (Element Control 10) (Alternate; element: water) Mud Ritual (Enhanced Trait 4.75) (Traits: Knowledge (arcane Lore) +15 (+19), Feats: Ritualist; Limited (Only whilst immersed in mud)) Mud Slick (Environmental Control 3) (hamper move (25%), Radius: 25 ft.; Duration (continuous); Range (touch)) Super-Movement 3 (slithering, sure-footed 2 (50% penalty reduction)) Super-Strength 1 (+5 STR carry capacity, heavy load: 1k lbs; +1 STR to some checks) Attack Bonus: +10 (Ranged: +10, Melee: +10, Grapple: +16/+17) Attacks: Disease Touch (Nauseate 5), +10 (DC Fort/Staged 15), Mad Mud (Confuse 10) (DC Will 20), Muddy Breath (Suffocate 5), +10 (DC Fort 15), Unarmed Attack, +10 (DC 21) Defense: +10 (Flat-footed: +5), Knockback: -3 Initiative: +0 Languages: Arabic, Atlantean, English, German, Greek, Hebrew, Latin, Lemurian, Spanish Totals: Abilities 28 + Skills 16 (64 ranks) + Feats 10 + Powers 72 + Combat 40 + Saves 20 + Drawbacks 0 = 186 Vincent Vines was an archeologist and geologist, exploring various islands of the Carribean and southern USA. His interest was in the cults of the unspeakable one. Unearthing a foul lemurian curse, he was transformed into a horrible black slimy beast, exuding mud, black fetid earth, and horrible slime. His mind was warped too, now operating under the delusion that he has "visions" showing him the "truth" He sees the Unspeakable one, Lemurians, Atlanteans, Deep Ones, everywhere, including many "Ordinary" humans whom he believes are spies, cultists, and deep ones in disguise. But most particularly, he despises the actual deep ones, such as Sea DEVIL! He needs REVENGE! and must protect the earth from the vile ones! Tactically, Black Mud operates in the sewers and swamps, never far from water but never immersed in it either. He is physically capable in any situation, but his danger comes from preparation. When immersed in mud, he can fire off rituals quickly and effectively. He can also enchant mud, so that it can fire off a "mad bomb", a horrible vision to all standing in it. This is an effective trap. Aside from anything else, he is a plotter and a schemer, and patient. He will use rituals, planing, and other PLOT device magics to aide him and make him more dangerous, as well as planning things to make sure that earth and water mix... His weakness (And strength) comes from his absolutely firm conviction that the earth is about to be overrun by the Unspeakable one, the Deep Ones, and all allied to them. He is effectively paranoid. Of course, he could (under the right circumstances) even be an ally in defeating that real menace...

Sounds good to me. Hot dogs or donuts? (or both?)

GM "Get a taste of my world! Mmmm! Like fried banana curry with a side order of brazilnuts in custard! mwaahahahaha!" cackled Deadbolt. "Enjoy the flavours! Its the only way!" He turned, quickly donning a pair of bright pink oversized sunglasses, and sped off again, in a distorted blur. Amidst the screams and laughter and tears of the befuddled and crazed customers, and the shop owner pressing the alarm (the resulting cacophony just adding to the ambient level of madness), a voice could be heard. "There he goes! Heading north! Seal it off!" called two figures. One man, one woman, dressed in suspicious professional suits, with suspicious sunglasses, suspicious wires hanging from earpieces, and suspicious bulges at the armpit. "Call in the Gasman!"

Sorry for delay, had a rubbish day at work on Friday and knocked me psychologically. The confusion is active and we may drop out of combat at this juncture, but keeping it up for now and see what happens. I don't know if you have rolled on the confusion table? (but nice description!) In any case for reference, Echo - Bruised, 2 HP Deadbolt - Bruised Finishing off this round with Deadbolt running again, and some interesting IC stuff!

Might be a stretch, and might need an HP with your agreement, but Steam going to see if he can rig up something at the power mains, to cut the power to the building on command (if necessary rigging something up with an HP such as a remote wire-cutter to hand)... in any case, story first, so lets see what happens!

Lord steam had little or no sympathy for Pennington Sr. The man could fry and the world would be both happier and safer. His only resistance was the fact that it was, technically, a crime, and Lord Steam did not do crime. On the other hand, plenty of people were in danger right now, and Pennington Sr was not top of his list when it came to crime prevention. "By Vishnu! Who the blazes is that?" he said softly to Roma. Maybe she knew. She seemed local, and seemed smart. And, he conceded, seemed beautiful too, despite her profession. It seemed to him that half light and electrical explosions were actually not to their advantage; not his, and not the brave young man dancing around with prostigious strength. If anything, the electronic man might be feeding off the electricity around him. Speculation, of course. Still, it would be good to have the power grid under his control...

Ok I guess its time for a scene cut? Im going to suggest Black and the two other agents casing outside first, but whatever you feel works best.

"Yes SIR!" The meaning of the last phrase could be interpreted in a lot of ways. And the Handyman was trained to be suspicious. But for the Handyman, there was only one interpretation. AEGIS was right, and that was the end of it. They were supporting him. They made him, and rebuilt him. They were the good guys. They were the light, and he was the Black. "You can count on me sir. Here to serve" he said, crystal clear. He took up the two other AEGIS files on the agents, having all three in his hand. His own training had been brutal and quick, and he was a capable as most other agents; and most AEGIS agents were pretty competent. It would be good to have the extra back up. "I'll get right on it, Sir!"

This is almost certainly premature, but just a note that as we progress the Rat is very likely to use Master Plan feat for the "top floor (if thats ok).

Im putting in a bit of fluff regarding Eidectic Memory and poor visibility, but basically looking for cover and obscurement!

Lord Steam paid close attention, filing away all the information. In retrospect, he should have studied Bedlam more closely. He had heard snippets, here and there, but the detail was not something he had paid attention to. Now, he was paying attention. "A family of crooks then. Stretching back many generations" he concluded. A goodly number of "families" were crooks. He should now, he was in such a family himself, and he certainly appreciated that not all of the Lockwood name had been the epitome of gentlemanly (or indeed ladylike) behaviour. But he could not recall one so cruel as Pennington. He was pondering the matter as the lights failed and the glass rained. Thieves. Kidnappers. Liars. Murderers. Certainly all true, very perceptive. But chilling all the same. "Get down!" he hissed at Roma. "Mouth shut, ears open!" he added. If she was a reporter she would be good at the latter, but a little less good (too put it mildly) at the latter. He had met his manservant's semi estranged Son, Maurice Blakely, on a few occasions, and he was not on the whole best impressed with the profession. Just his cane and his mind to hand. Not the best of circumstances, but one must make do with what one had rather than rail against it. Too many unknowns, and not enough light. He took Roma by the elbow, and guided her (in a manner balancing gentlemanly manners and need for expediency as best he could manage - which in his dimension would be quite the most correct thing, but in this was perhaps less accurate given its more enlightened view on gender) away from the light, away from the falling glass, and away from the chandeliers. They needed darkness and cover, and his brain ticked away with perfect memory. He might not be able to see every nook and cranny, but he remembered exactly where they were...

No mask for this one. If he got recognised as the gambler Sebastian Black, it would be for the best. Instead, fedora on head, unremarkable black suit. Cigarette hanging from mouth, with thick smoke. He said they helped him concentrate, but truth was they just stopped the withdrawal symptoms. In his pockets, a packet of cards. Plus, deeper, the more clandestine tools of his trade. The Handyman had a fractured psyche at the best of time. This time was not the best. A call for crooks, well, Sebastian Black had been a good crook. But now, his mind had been bent towards being an AEGIS agent. A fanatic, some would say - and they would be right. And yet he was still a fanatic that could not stop stealing. He was a headache for AEGIS, but a useful headache. There was no getting away from it. He was both the best man for the job and the worst, too. He stood back a moment, studying the building through his black plastic binoculars. Spotted the kid go in. "Hmmm"...he rolled the buzzing word in his mouth. Without undue haste, he put away the binoculars, and brought up his hand. As far as the scientists at AEGIS could make out, there was no need for him to use his hand. But, that was them. He needed his hand to focus. With a snap of his fingers, he was inside, striding in from the shadows. There had been a "pop" sound and a faint smell of ozone. "Sebastian Black. Courtesy of AEGIS" he said, slowly and lowly. "I got your message" he said, sitting down slowly, still smoking his cigarette. He took out his cards and started shuffling them idly. "I can steal for you. But I am a lawman now" he said, politely. I can steal for you? Truth is, I can't stop stealing...even now, he studied Terrifica and Bonfire, and their pockets.

"Climbing is it?" asked Red, thoughtfully, studying the gear. Looked solid to her. Her skill set was wide, as would be expected of an international spy. But it didn't include climbing. More precisely, the Red Rat was not skilled at climbing. The Ape Rat, was another matter. Matted hairy muscular arms, knuckles dragging to the floor, feet that where as dexterous as her hands. The Ape Rat was a skilled climber and, she judged, would find the climb easy enough, especially with suction pads. The problem was, the Ape Rat was a moron. She was not even sure if her brain regressed to that state she would actually wear the suction pads. "Look, I can...umm...I can climb up the building pretty easily. I think. But...its complicated. It will be me, and, well it won't" she said, vaguely. "I think its best we keep that as a back up plan should things go wrong. I can do it, but you will be delaing with a different type of me if I do it. A type of me that isn't so sharp. In fact, a type of me that's as sharp as a rubber ball" she explained. She didn't really want to go into details. "I'd take the service elavator, myself. Scout the building, see if we can take some maintenance costumes. A touch of disguise. Maybe swipe some cards or some keys. No need for a fight unless it gets ugly. That said, better to get prepared for a fight if we need too..." she said, giving her opinion.

Thanks no apology necessary. Anyway, Ill throw out a roll or two proactively to see what Bolt might now. Lazy sausage as he is, he would not have taken 20 to investigate the various organisations, but I suppose he might hit the library at a later date. Business Knowledge: 1d20+14 26 for knowledge business. Might not be pertinent but being preactive. If it is pertinent, happy for that to go straight into IC or OOC depending on your judgement. If you do need any other knowledge rolls (e.g. another business roll or tech roll, feel free to roll on my behalf to keep up pace/speed, he wont be rerolling them!)

"You won't lie to me? But isn't that what a liar would say?" asked Erasmus, draped in his normal attire of Absurdism both inside an out. It could be abrasive, but it was penetrating. Erasmus took the card for inspection, focusing his eyes, which could focus rather well indeed. "Mr Kessler. Mr Kessler Arwin Kesller KessKorp" he muttered, rolling the word around his lips and tongue. His jowls wobbled slightly as he contemplated the man. Erasmus Bolt was no fool. Quite the reverse. "I would be delighted to listen to you, Mr Kessler, lies or not. I do often find that lies can be just as illuminating as falsehoods. Which is why I am also delighted to see Mr Mars" he said. The inversions and subtleties of his statements were rather disorientating, just as he intended them to be. Erasmus Bolt was not a naturally charmer, but he had a certain way of talking that provoked response without being clearly provocative. An ambiguity, one might say. It got him into trouble, and every now and again, it got him out of it. "Ill be sure to keep in touch, My enigmatic friend" he bowed deeply to Mr Kessler, before making his way up to see Mr Mars. He hoped the lift could take him. He weighed a ton. Literally...