Supercape

"you are on my side? Funny,hahahaha! nobody is on my side! They are ALL against me, don't you see? I know what happens when they lock you up! I used to turn the key! Hahahaha!" he laughed, bitter and scared. It was hard to judge exactly what his mental state was - those glassy eyes, that dead looking flesh. "Pardon me for running! But I am rather good at it, you see!" he explained. "Ill leave you struggling..yes..yes...you see what my mind is like now? Poisoned by the virus, distorted by my little trip...fun, isn't it!" he gritted his teeth, angry again, but not so much at Echo. More at his life. With another bolt, he turned left and zoomed, like a blur, through the mall. Through her own distortions, she could hear shattering glass. He had propelled himself into "Speedy Simon's Sports Shop!"

Now Dagon is summoned the heart is vulnerable. Finding it means Shrike finding / going back to the man-lizard she stalked! She may need some of that powdered faerie dust to finish the job?

At Excaccus' Request, posting a skeleton build idea for brother / nemesis. Dreadbreath Power Level: 10; Power Points Spent: 156 STR: +15 (8/40), DEX: +8 (6/26), CON: +15 (8/40), INT: +3 (16), WIS: +3 (16), CHA: +0 (10) Tough: +15, Fort: +15, Ref: +8, Will: +10 Skills: Bluff 4 (+4), Diplomacy 4 (+4), Gather Information 8 (+8), Intimidate 4 (+4), Knowledge (business) 8 (+11), Knowledge (civics) 8 (+11), Knowledge (current events) 8 (+11), Knowledge (popular culture) 8 (+11), Notice 4 (+7), Sense Motive 8 (+11) Feats: Benefit 2 (Wealth), Connected, Contacts, Improved Initiative 2, Well-Informed Powers: Concealment 10 (all senses; Custom (Can be sensed by brother)) Emotion Control 10 (DC 20; Limited (Despair); Mind Blank) Enhanced Trait 84 (Traits: Strength +32 (40, +15), Constitution +32 (40, +15), Dexterity +20 (26, +8); Limited (Only when Mind Reading Brother)) Mind Reading 10 (DC 20; Duration (sustained), Sensory Link) Attack Bonus: +5 (Ranged: +5, Melee: +5, Grapple: +20) Attacks: Emotion Control 10 (DC Will 20), Mind Reading 10 (DC Will 20), Unarmed Attack, +5 (DC 30) Defense: +5 (Flat-footed: +3), Knockback: -7 Initiative: +16 Languages: Native Language Totals: Abilities 4 + Skills 16 (64 ranks) + Feats 7 + Powers 102 + Combat 20 + Saves 7 + Drawbacks 0 = 156 Marcus Walker was infected by the Darwin-X virus at the same time as his step brother, and, being weaker, was filled with despair - surely he would die, whilst his brother would survive. Marcus Walker was fighting for every breath... The Virus wreaked havoc on his body, turning him into a shrivelled, wasted boy, but with psychic powers that reflected his emotional state. He is able to project despair onto others, and read minds. Always shy, he can now shield himself from the perceptions of others... ...Except his brother. Oh yes, his brother can always see him! Curses! But, Dreadbreath can also "copy" his brothers immense strength, matching him blow for blow... Marcus Walker now operates as a businessman, "Cheating" with his mental powers. Frustrated by his crippled body, he seeks to humiliate his brother, but will never destroy him (even protect him), as his brother is the sole way he can become immensely physically powerful. And with that powerful body, he can do anything! NOtes: If you fancy being truly awful, you could add Morph (Brother) power, limited to when mind reading Dreadnaught, linked to the enhanced stats. Also, as his concealment is psychic, may want it to be phantasm limitation (probably should be)

"I have plenty 'o tricks up me sleeves!" said Flintlock, confidently. Inside, her confidence was eroding somewhat. It was, however, time to refine the search. "There was a house, near here. Short of it burnin' down, and that is a possibility with thieves, it should still be standing. I saw...well, yes, I saw...it's one of me tricks, y'see, well I saw some charts there. Some books. Couldn't seem em all, couldn't read em. But me guess is they would be worth readin'!" she explained. "Some mighty no good sailors were talking, right here. Followed one of them to the house. Well, it ain't too solid, I grant you, but we can but hope me nose was right!" she said with a wink and a tap of her nose. "Leave me crew searchin', and ye friends to. Might be they even find something. Meantimes, lets have a look at that house..."

Not quite in combat yet, but if you intend to go for it, roll initiative!

"..." croaked the Count. "Magic. Sorcery....Death..." he whispered. As if on cue, the walls of the cave crumbled, giving out a hacking dust that drove the Count, with his weak lungs, into a fit of choking, so severe one might fear for his life. From the walls, stiff, dusty, came six figures. Draped in crumbling rotten garments, skin tight and withered, eyes hollow, just skin and bones. Dead, surely... But moving, all the same! In an ancient language they spoke; one that neither the count or Preston could understand, but intimidating all the same. Spoken in dusty voices, with dusty tongues and dusty lips. Dead, stretched skin over the skull and teeth made for little facial expression, but the dead were clearly of woeful intent...

It would indeed, although it might be jack! (I will leave that to your discretion!) If its the latter, ill give an HP (rather arbitrary) for the bad luck. Although that would be next round! Post away, and Ill reply with Deadbolts actions.

"Reporting for duty, SIR!" When confronted with an AEGIS officer, nay, commander, Sebastian Blacks eyes glazed over just a hint, his back straightened, and his voice became just that little bit more crisp. He couldn't remember much of his conditioning and training, but he felt it. Better than the Slammer! whispered a distant inner voice. Despite all his conditioning, he had never liked the sea, and felt uneasy in the office. You could drown in the sea. Desperate lungs gulping in brine, choking, choking....but he stiffened his resolve. He saluted the director. Perhaps it wasn't AEGIS protocol to do so, but he felt compelled in the matter.

So, the light was not to their favour. Or perhaps it was. Not in the favour to search, but in their favour to be found. The Skeleton Crew, thanks to their differently-alive status had no problem seeing in the Dark. Flintlock, her heart still beating, had more of a problem. She was most thankful for those new-fangled torch beams. "Spread out! Not too far!" she half suggested, half ordered. "I heard some sailors - well, maybe not sailors, for they where mightly' suspicious - talk with words most suggestive. Like they knew something about the poor souls being taken here. Maybe it was just idle gossip. But maybe not! And if there be people smugglin' to be a - doin' then me guess is, middle of the night would the time most oppurtune!" she explained. With that, and with neither a flashlight nor undead eyes to guide her, she bolted on to Cik and her flashlight...

"Lash, Billy, keep watch by the boat" she told the respective members of the Skeleton Crew. One Eyed Pete and Ginger Rose would accompany Cik and her friends into town. For this merry Jaunt, Pete and Rose appeared as regular sailors, complete with the odd tattoo and calloused hands. Hardly a trace of zombie or pirate about them. Flintlock, on the other hand, wore her normal pirate garb, with knife and pistol tucked away where she hoped nobody could see them. Nobody decent, that is. "To the harbour! By foot! Aye, a merry jaunt by land, makes a change from the sea, me hearties!" she said, swaggering off to that very part of the city, with Pete and Rose behind her. "Keep an eye on the shift ones!" she whispered to her undead crewmates. She was growing to trust Cik, but that was a far step from trusting them...

Leaping would certainly work - or near enough for to make it waveable. Wall walking too, as the crowds aren't currently plastered over the ceiling or shop windows! So feel free to make an attack roll at Defence 15 (Ill go generous and say that Dead Bolt is Flat Footed by your action!) If you hit, an opposed grapple roll: Dead Bolts is: Grapple Roll vs Echo 2: 1d20+22 41 ooops! A sky high roll! ALso, touching Deadbolt is problematic! You are hit by an aura effect, a Confuse 10 (DC 20 Will Save) effect, with dimensional descriptor. (Of course, if you miss, that won't be necessary). Feel free to narrate your leap / wall walking + grapple (or failed grapple) + dimensional insanity (if you fail, or feel free to narrate some mind bending experience even if you pass) efforts!

So posted. Let me know if it works. Also, if you feel comfortable, feel free to GM the voice of SLAVE, the Red Rats in head computer (basically of dubious intelligence and complete progaganda driven fanatical communism). If you feel a computer roll needed, taking 20 (if its ok) for a 35 result. Basically looking for all files on Insider! If Alder feels comfortable with it, might be handy for the Red Rat to pick up LOVELACEs inquiries too..?

"Yeah man I mean this dude is far out like crazy far out ya know what I'm saying so for sure he like talking 'bout major drugs like for real major crazy drugs human experimentation military grade super upgrade like maxed out muscle for special forces and yeah I guess like assassins and super agents ya know so this dude like all over the internet man making hardcore noise and all the goss on him right now ya see on everyones lips on everyones keyboards nobody knows if he just some spaced on whacko got brainfried on the net or he got the real skillz and so..." Dave "the Duke" Devon spoke without punctuation. He rambled like a man high on caffeine. Which, appropriately enough he was. He was a moderately talented hacker, and slept far to little. A small man with dreadlocks, dark skin, and a belly formed from too many donuts, he also had epilepsy and couldn't drive. Noemi von Neuman had picked him up a few times. Drove him around. The Duke seemed to trust her, something she encouraged. Now and again, amidst his rambling, he came up with something interesting. Inferior Western Information Technology Systems Inevitably Corrupted By Capitalism Greed! Came SLAVE's inevitable propaganda readout over her cybernetic eyes. Her head computer spouted the same message, sometimes several times, triggered by the Duke's rambling. She had pretty much learned to ignore the machine in her head. Most of the time. "Yeah yeah, Sure Duke. Sounds..ah...swell...." she said, trying to get a word in. Perhaps the Duke even registered her. "So like Im gonna see what the buzz is see whats hap'nin on the cybernet gotta go in dark ya know no trace gotta keep it superclean ya know everyone after this dude calls himself the In$id3r says he wants some help uncovering the major conspiracy righth here in Bedlam gotta be some heavy heat man some heavy heat yeah drop me here call ya later..." The EZ Cab, battered and poorly maintained, was cheap. Her boss didn't go much for safety or clean. EZ Cabs did what it said on the tin. Got paying customers from A to B as cheaply as possible. And people sure got what they paid for. "Sure thing Duke, take it easy, stay off the coffee, yeah?" She had dropped the Duke of at "Cray-Z Circuits" an alleged electronics repair shop, but mostly a hand out joint for Hackers. Switching of her radio, already belting out the next customer, she sat back, and, as she had done before, got SLAVE to activate... Find out what the hell is going on with this guy? she mentally told SLAVE, feeling the computer connect with one of the many computers inside the building. Inferior Western Systems Are No Match For Superior Soviet Technology....

Good for me! Posted, let me know if any alterations needed.

"What a filthy city. Full of scum, lowlife, and depravity!" commented Lord Steam. "Yes M'lud" answered Blakely. "I wish I had come sooner!" quipped the Steampunk Sleuth. "Yes M'lud". Moreso, it was the sleaze and corruption of the upper classes that fascinated him most. Surely the upper classes did everything better, including sleaze and corruption. Amongst the procession of limousines, his Lordships car, named Bessie, certainly stood out. An antique, puffing, predictably, steam, full of brass and whistles and knobs and style. It hummed along at quite a pace in the open road. Driving cross country had been quite the experience for Lord Steam. "Right-ho" remarked Lord Steam, stepping out of Bessie, and flipping his cane under his arm. "Keep the seat warm for me. If its a jolly tedious party, might just slip of for a spot of cards and sherry elsewhere" he said to Blakely, who nodded with an impassive face. Lord Steam was dressed in suitably antiquated style. A penguin tuxedo, white gloves, and outrageously tall top hat. A monocle in one eye. Bar his most splendid cane, he was unarmed. One does not bring a revolver to such establishments. With a bold stride, he entered the Bedlam Arms, took a small glass of sparkling champagne (making most sure to smell and swish for taste), and took view of the scene. He had particularly low opinion of the rotund Pennington Snr. Drunk, fat, and uncouth. But most vexatiously, racist. It could, and had, been said of Lord Steam that his view of women was some antiquated (although polite). It could be said of him that he had a rather antiquated view of class. But it should never be said (for it would be most incorrect) that he was a racist. He was one quarter Indian on his mother side, and had travelled extensively in India and Japan. "I say old chap, quite the opinion you have there" he said, marching up to Pennington Snr. "Based on your considerable experience no doubt. Tell me, sir, what exactly did you make of Tokyo when you last visited?"

It does indeed! And for reference, as PCs will be mingling about (as well as others), feel free to use each others reputation tables - I suppose mindful that you arent going to (presumably?) spend lots of times making phone calls! The well informed feat and knowledge rolls (As reactions) would be cool however!

IM good to try two at once, Kaige!

Consciousness slipping back to earthly body was always something of a relief. The Astral plane was mind bending, and she had heard tales, tales she could well believe, of people losing their mind there. She rand hands through hair. She slapped her face a few times just to check it was indeed her own cheeks that stung. She gritted her teeth and stuck out her tongue. Yes, all present and accounted for. She took to deck to take a lie of the land, and drummed her fingers against the trustyworthy black wood of her ship. The Black Flag sometimes felt alive. She judged it sometimes felt alive because it probably was; imbued with some half sentience. No, it wouldn't do to sail into Singapore on a Pirate Ship. "Jack! You have the Flag! Keep her a distance. Don't want to attract too much attention" she said to her first mate, who gave a quick salute. "Lash, Pete, Rose, Billy" she said, indicating the four crewmembers, "Get the rowing boat out. Time for some exercise!" she told them. And so, Cik and co included, the rowing boat was gently lowered, and four mildly grumbling undead (with, it must be said, some strength and vigour to said undead limbs) started making for the shore.

GM Deadbolt was already inside the Mall, like a distorted blur. Screams and yells started erupting from the Mall, and in that confined space, with plenty of echoes and reverberation, it soon became an almost deafening cacophony. He did not stop when he entered, but ploughed through the crowds, right along the ground floor of one of the arms of the Mall, from one end to another. He paused at the end, skidding to halt, considering the best direction to turn. Behind him, the crowds had parted like water. But not all; a couple of dozen shoppers had been knocked clean over, like ten pin clubs. Not injured, at least as far as Echo could tell. At least, not injured physically. Some has started screaming, some had started babbling, some had started giggling, a couple had started barking, and one old man started insisting he was Frank Sinatra and just exactly where had his band gone to?

So, for reference: Deadbolt has Speed 7 (1000mph). Im going to keep this a bit dirty / easy, so rounding up to 10,000' per round. He is using overrun to charge through a crowd of people. This means a straight line, so I am ruling only 1000' through the Mall. He has improved overrun and fast overrun, so nobody has the opportunity of getting out of the way. Again, going a bit dirty here; essentially with +4 to the trip attack from Improved Overrun, very few if any will not get bowled over. So Im going with twenty bystanders getting knocked over. They also start acting bizzarre! So, Millenial mall is about 100' from you, and Deadbolt is 1000' into the Millenial Mall, ground floor. You have a bunch of confused and scared and insane bystanders between you and him!

GM Spanish! She had a brief flashback to her torrid love affair with Lt. Fernando of the Spanish fleet. He had been sent to arrest her, and they ended up stranded on a desert island for two passionate weeks. Her Spanish had improved considerably. Quite why Spanish was being spoken by Singapore sailors was quite the peculiarity. Not to mention their rather shifty countenance, or, most pertinently, their highly suspicious chatter. Next batch of workers? People buying there way out?...most suspicious. For a moment, she wished she could step out of the Astral plane and confront them. But, alas, her pysical body was many miles away, in a trance on the Black Flag. She took a good look at the men, trying her best to memorise their faces, their stances, and exactly where they were standing - or had come from - or would go to. All the while, listening...

Behavioural Sciences DC 20

GM If Sir August Card was nervous on opening night, he did not show it. Warm and cool at once, he was. He stood just shy of six foot, a man in his fifties but well preserved in body and mind. He still had a handsome face and, dressed up in a most splendid black tie suit, complete with white gloves, he cut quite a dashing figure. He stood at the lobby, with the restaurant already half full. Above the restaurant, a glass balcony, where those souls that were brave enough to gamble (at this early juncture) could have a view over the diners. And all were treated to an excellent view of Freedom City. The High Steaks building was over a dozen stories tall, the lower levels being kitchens and devoted to Sir Card's other business venues. There was even a modest little art gallery, showing the works of a local Freedom City artist - not of particularly outstanding quality, but still, it added, said Sir Car, to the class. Mr Card appeared to be chatting, casually to an Arabian gentleman and his elegant wife, who, one would imagine, were dripping in wealth. However, the astute would note he was casually checking out every entrant to the opening night. "Welcome to the High Steaks, Madam" The woman was nearly six foot herself, blond, icy, beautiful. A Scandinavian lady with short blonde hair and steely blue eyes. Her smile seemed genuine enough, although distant, somehow. "My name is Snow. Silver Snow" she introduced herself. Presumably a stage name, or some parents with an amusing sense of humour. She was dressed in an all white tuxedo, matching her complexion. "Are you dining alone, or with company?" she asked, all glacial pleasantries.

She can pretty soon orientate yourself, but there is a moment of whereamI? feel free to narrate however you feel best suits!

Went ahead and posted, hope its ok for you!