Supercape

Thanks Durf; Ill throw in my reasoning: Psychological Manipulation: I appreciate this is substituting one skill for three. However, I think it would be pretty hard to get it working. Psychological profiling is not simply "Study for one minute". Its hours of indepth work on somebody who would have to actually engage with the process (or several dozen hours of extremely high intensity observation, interviews with informants, neuropsychological evaluation). Actually getting this available would be extremely difficult, and certainly, its not a skill swap that could be used like online reasearch. Out of 10 interaction skill rolls, I doubt it could be used in one of those. Im not dead set on it, but I add it in because it has some flavour and plot hook elements to it. Aside from which, it gives Knowledge [Behavioural Sciences] some traction. If it wont fly with the refteam, its no biggie. But I add the above to explain just how hard it would be to actually use. In any case, helpful, because I will specifically annotate this for approval (or not!) Synthetic Cell Array: I disagree. Fades is a valid flaw in my opinion. To quote directly from core book: "Each time you use the power with this flaw, it loses 1 power point (not rank) and a commensurate amount of effectiveness. For powers with a duration longer than Instant, each round is considered “one use.” Emphasis mine. This means that instant duration powers are explicitly allowed to have the fades flaw. It essentially says that the power loses 1 PP every time it is used. So, Rank 10 effect first time, then Rank 9 (for two uses), then Rank 8, etc etc. Some ATT threads on the matter (unfortunately, nothing on official rules one way or the other)...http://www.atomicthinktank.com/viewtopic.phpf=16&t=44833&p=1025109&hilit=fades#p1025109, http://www.atomicthinktank.com/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=35321&p=633459&hilit=fades#p633459 There are probably others, but that was as far as I could be bothered to dive!

The gang of freaks must be thieves. And 'twas thieves she was after. Surely they were the culprits of the missing cargo? One could never count on anything, for life twisted and turned, but it was the road to traverse, most rightly. The questions of how they stole it, and why, were more burning and vexatious. And, at the end of the day, what exactly did they steal? "I have crossed swords with worse. The three armed strangler of Boston, the Weeping Giantess of storms, the mad half breed of Azathoth!" she said, proudly. And with a little shudder at the awful face of the last villain. "I'm sure we can handle a bunch of crooks" she said, insidious manipulation creeping in. "And I fancy you have some history, and black history, with them. So what do you say? Take me to them, I'll let you pick up the pieces like a vulture. Ill even throw in a whistle, if ye fancy!"

"Gimme a synth beer. Trivolian" sighed Starshot. The foamy orange brew was a poor substitute for the German beers of his youth. But it was the best he could get. And frankly, he didn't care, right now, if it was shaken or stirred. The last trip had ended almost as badly as it could get. Some wealthy Lor holiday maker had got trampled by a lumbering, tusked elephant like creature with hide as thick as Starshot had seen. Not my fault. He told himself. The idiot had been too bold, too confident. The ivory had fetched a price, at least. He could probably cover the almost inevitable litigation. Now, he wanted a little piece of oblivion. Dressed in a khaki tank top, his blond hair swept back, a healing wound on his back. The criss cross scars over his left side, strongest down his arm, on display. Despite the scar or two on his face, he was a handsome man, with cut features. And, courtesy of some genetic modifications, his physique was impressive, like a snake on steroids. He fancied some company, of the female sort. Not particularly a lovers embrace, but some eyes to drown in, some soft poetic words to here, some fascination. The bar was noisy, he was tired, and he was not, by his own estimation, switched on. Not alert. He didn't want to be, either. He had heard of the Praetorians, of course. He had ears, he travelled a lot. But damned if he would recognise them; not today. Not in a little bar, not when his mind was elsewhere... The giantess...well, might have been interesting. But after the trampling, he didn't like the association. But... "Whose the lady with the beautiful brown eyes?" he asked the robot bartender, giving a nod of his head to the Praetorian, Sitara Shashikala...

GM "Neutron? Who are they?" asked Deadbolt, suspiciously. "Don't trust him!" whispered Tin Hat, pointing, pointedly, to his "protective" hat. "I am picking up psychotransbeams!" he explained, in a hissing voice. "I don't know anything about Neutron. I came down here to escape detection. Freedom City Sanitorium is sure to send their goon squad after me. I trained half of them myself!" he said, furiously. "Have you seen them? Medical guys, stun guns, sedatives, manacles...and looking like a bunch of clinical stormtroopers. To be frank, some of them seem to enjoy restraining our patients a little too much. But, its a brutal world, our world..."

Taking down a criminal organisation was not on the menu; for one thing, it would be virtually impossible, even for a sorcerer like Flintlock. Put a dent in them, maybe. Inflict a grave wound, perhaps. But criminal organisations were mercurial. And even with dedicated soldiers and courts, it would be a herculean task, she did reckon. "The Market you say? Aye, that sounds a finely business. But I don't know me way around Singapore, much less the market!" she conceded, finger tapping chin. "So tell me, me rapscallion friend. Would you like to take me there, and show me round. Maybe I might make ways for you to steal some gold. No harm coming from stealing from a thief, methinks!" she said. "Ye can see what I can do, so your pockets should be full. Alternatively, I can let the beast of a thousand eyes loose on you, and I can tell you, the tentacles are the least of your worries then..."

'Twas a fair point; much money would flow at a Black Market, where elsewhere 'twould be of the newfangled electronic type. Bah! Give me the smell and bite of a gold coin any day! "The Yaks? What are they, some kind of mafia? yakuza?" she asked, peering her face close to the struggling thief. "And spare me your lies and deception, madam! I can hear them whistling through your teeth!" she declared. Such was three centuries worth of listening to such lies and deception. "And why, tell me, are they freaks? do they have horns? two heads? a taste for octopus suckers?" she asked, insistently. "And more to the point, where can I find these freaks? If you can lead me to them, I might even forget to collect their money once I tear their castle to the ground..."

Flintlock spared a glance for the onlookers. "I like a pugulistic party as much as the next gal', ladies, and gent. But today is not the day. One more step and Ill send a tentacle up your..." The tentacles must surely have had a most fortunate effect on the jukebox, for it chose to malfunction at precisely this moment and blare out, at full volume, a Queen Song. "Be-elezBUB!" The entwined voices blocked out Flintlocks most awful description. "...with a melon and a bottle of gin!" she finished, full of cocked eyebrow. Returning to Cik, she continued. "Why did you need the money, and why go to a black market to try and steal it? Not that I object...errr....too much..." she added, meaningfully, mindful she had an image to cultivate in this new world of multimedia. "But surely, not the best target? What was going on there? why the shooting?"

"It could get rum worse" replied Flintlock, hand on hip, finger directed, spear-fashion towards Cik. She relaxed her mental grip on the tentacles a little, which constricted... The dread Gog-Sothoth writhed in its dimension of madness, whistling and popping its bubbling form. Flintlock did not want to see the day the beast with a thousand mouths entered this world. 'Twas enough just some of its tendrils reaching forth like a spectre. Rum worse, it could get indeed. "Loosen ye lips, loosen ye tongue, ye scallywag! Ill send ye home with a kick up the arse and a doubloon or two for ye troubles. Don't say I am not generous. I could flay your hair from yer scalp, but I'm not here to scrape the blood from the walls. I'm hear to hear you spill your secrets!" she said, imposing her will. "Why did you steal from me, and what were you doing in the market? Yes, you know the market I mean. What did you see?"

Character Name Synth Power Level: 10 (215/215) Unspent Power Points: 0 Trade-Offs: None In Brief: Socialist Synthetic Organism. Alternate Identity: Winter Snow Birthplace: Northern Scandinavia Residence: Freedom City, Downtown (Run down flat) Base of Operations: Freedom City Occupation: Refuse Collector Affiliations: Freedom City Refuse and Sewer services Family: None Description: (Winter Snow) Age: 5 (18/8/2010) Apparent Age:25 (Varies) Gender: Female (Varies) Ethnicity: Caucasian (Varies) Height: 5’10” (Varies) Weight: 75Kgs (Varies) Eyes: Blue - Green(Varies) Hair: Long Brunette (Varies) Synth can take on the appearance of any human. As such Synth has no gender, but “her” main secret ID is female, so “she” tends to use this pronoun. In her natural state, Synth is a pale white, hairless human with no apparent gender. The skin is slightly translucent, and her appearance as a whole is pretty unnerving to look at. When asleep, Synth reverts to this form. It is also the usual form when a “Superhero”, as it is (whilst unsettling), unique! When Synth activates “hypertrophied” muscles, Synth becomes incredibly muscular, similar to a world class body builder with “chemical help”. Winter Snow, her main Secret ID, looks like a slightly androgynous, tall woman with long brown hair. She is beautiful in a sense, but also plain (no makeup, neutral clothes). History: Synth was created in a top secret laboratory in northern Sweden, led by Dr Ingvar Nyberg. Unknown to the team of scientists, the facility and research was funded by SHADOW to investigate creating the perfect “Aryan”. The team had access to Utopian (particularly, Superior) DNA. Synth grew up quickly, maturing in a year with full cognitive faculties and superhuman physical abilities. With such success, SHADOW moved in to reap its reward. Dr Nyberg managed to smuggle Synth out. The research team are gone, presumed (?) dead. With no identity, Synth moved to America. After some adventures as a superhero, Synth went into temporary retirement as part of self-discovery. She has worked a number of menial jobs, and had a number of identities. She settled down as part of the refuge collection service of the city. She would have been happy enough doing this, until she found on of her work friends murdered in a dumpster. Anger aside, she felt she could no longer just live the simple life…she had a duty to clean up the city, in more ways than one… Possessed of superhuman senses and spending days rummaging around the rubbish of the rich, famous, criminal, and ordinary citizen alike, Synth often comes across some interesting stuff… Personality & Motivation: Synth is a (democratic) socialist / idealist who wants a world utopia. This means fighting for the underdog and against corruption, as well as crime! As a person, Synth is caring, compassionate, but can harbour simmering anger at the injustice of the world. Synth is extremely “humane”. As synth also carries the imprinted memories of several scientists (and their brain patterns), she can also get a little odd, or unpredictable, if those personalities reassert themselves. That said, those brain patterns are generally of (relatively) benign and sensible scientists, and the imprinted memories usually have a rather vague quality rather than full blown personalities (unless…) Powers & Tactics: Synth’s major power is the ability to change her body to any humanoid. The change takes several seconds of concentration and is also painful depending on how extreme the change and how fast. For this reason Synth will usually (time permitting) change slowly. As an artificial organism, Synth has several superhuman traits. Synth has superhuman strength, agility, endurance and speed. Synth’s senses are extremely acute. Synth does not age and is immune to poison and disease. Synth can control his/her own biological functions voluntarily (such as heart rate or various hormones like adrenaline). Synth is able to change muscle function; normally (as it is most comfortable), Synth’s muscles are extremely efficient, able to function with minimal metabolic demands. Alternatively, they can hypertrophy and gain additional power, or become loose and elastic, meaning Synth has remarkable contortionist abilities. Synth’s cells can “infect” others, causing them to break out in contagious boils or blotches, a tactic used against biological targets. Synth’s cells can also regenerate, and can cannibalize others flesh, or even “shut down” genetic powers. However, Synth only has a limited store of such reserve cells, and they will wane in power with use (although replenished by protein…) In hand to hand combat, Synth has little martial training but is very agile, strong, and fast. In addition, Synth has advanced anatomical knowledge, and is able to use in a fight (attacking pressure points and the like). Due to imprinted memories, also competent in many biological / psychological fields of science (including medical care). Complications: Inhuman: Regular medicine, unless done by biogenetic experts, will be ineffective on Synth, or possibly harmful. In addition, whilst Synth normally has immunity to poison and disease, certain engineered toxins and diseases will still affect her (or possibly she might be especially vulnerable to them). With the right scientific knowledge and procedures, false memories could be implanted. Ugly: Whilst Synth can normally choose attractive forms, the “natural” state is pretty hard on the eye (and sensitive to sunburn!). When she sleeps, for instance, she will revert to this state. Of course, this is not a complication unless actually being horribly ugly causes some additional problems over and above losing morphed status). When Synth revers to "natural" state, Synth will shed some skin and hair (which means she has to spend ten minutes every morning sweeping up and hoovering the bed). Pain: Quickly changing appearance hurts Synth. Very slow changes (an hour) are barely noticeable. If done slowly (over several minutes) it is an unpalatable ache. A speedy transformation can be anything from a griping pain (if the changes are relatively minor) to a crippling agony (for major changes of size, hue, or gender). This could leave Synth flat footed, stunned, or even unconscious, and at the very least are distracting. Reverting to "natural" state is, however, painless. Memories: Synth has the imprinted brain patterns of several top scientists which can bubble, distract or even change her personality, particularly if Synth is tired or drained. Whilst most of these brain patterns are benign, this is not automatically so. In addition, whilst Synth can normally access these “echoes” to gain expert knowledge of biological sciences, this might not always be the case. Job Stinks: Whilst Synth can technically change her natural odour, the fact is her job smells. If called away mid work, she will certainly have a detectible odour. Even out of hours, sensitive noses (such as the scent supersense) may well pick up her day job. She would have to some time with industrial strength detergents to completely wipe the smell away. Aside from this making her recognisable, it may also make social interactions more difficult. In addition, refuse collection is not well paid; Winter woods is struggling financially (run down rented room, no car, etc). ...Not a fighter: Synth is a pacifist with little training in fighting (her attack and defence scores represent extremely fast reflexes and physical strength rather than true skill). She will often be reluctant to fight physically, and will be careful to cause minimal injury. Also, highly skilled and cunning martial artists may be able to pull a trick on her (said trick causing her to automatically miss, or them to automatically hit). Abilities: 16 + 25 + 20 + 4 + 8 + 4 = 77 Strength: 26 (+8) [30 (+10) with Rage] Dexterity: 35 (+12) Constitution: 30 (+10) Intelligence: 14 (+2) Wisdom: 18 (+4) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 20 + 20 = 40 Initiative: +12 Attack: +10 Defense: +10, +5 Flat Footed Grapple: +18 (Additional +2 with Hypertrophied muscles, Additional +2 with Rage) Knockback: -5 Saving Throws: 2 + 0 + 2 = 4 Toughness: +10 (+10 Con) Fortitude: +12 (+10 Con, +2) [+14 with Rage] Reflex: +12 (+12 Dex) Will: +6 (+4 Wis, +2) [+8 with Rage] Skills: 52 Ranks = 12 PP Acrobatics 4 (+16) Skill Mastery Craft (Mechanical) 4 (+6) Diplomacy 4 (+6) Disguise 0 (+2) [+20/+22 with Morph] Skill Mastery Escape Artist 0 (+12) Skill Mastery [With Hypermobile muscles; +12 (+24)] Drive 4 (+16) Knowledge (Streetwise) 4 (+6) Language 4 (English, French, German, Russian, Swedish) Notice 12 (+16) Search 4 (+6) Sense Motive 4 (+8) Stealth 4 (+16) As enhanced traits Knowledge (Behavioural Sciences) 8 (+10) Knowledge (Life Sciences) 8 (+10) Medicine 8 (+12) Skill Mastery Feats: 10 PP Acrobatic Bluff Blind Fight Evasion 2 Favoured Environment 2 (Arctic / Tundra, Sewers) Jack of All Trades Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Disguise, Escape Artist, Medicine) Takedown Attack 1 Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) As Enhanced Traits: Attractive 2 (Potentially) Chokehold Endurance 3 (With hyperefficient muscles) Improved Critical 2 (Unarmed Attack) Rage 1 (10 Round Duration) Stunning Attack Custom: Psychological Manipulation* *If psychological profile is available (e.g. extensive interviews with engaged individual, or several dozen hours of intense observation plus developmental / biographical information), knowledge [Behavioural Sciences] can be used for interaction skills (Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate). NB will not work with attractive. Powers: 11 + 3 + 5 + 2 + 10 + 5 + 1 + 2 + 25 + 6 + 2 = 72 Enhanced Trait 10 (Knowledge [Behavioural Sciences] 8, Knowledge [life sciences] 8, Medicine 8, Chokehold, Custom Feat: Psychological Manipulation, Improved Critical 2 [Unarmed Combat], Stunning Attack) [10 PP] “Imprinted Biomedical Science Memories” [11PP] Feature: Autonomic control (Feats: Rage, 10 rounds) [3 PP] “Synthetic organism” Immunity 5 (Aging, Cold, Disease, Poison, Own infection power) [5 PP] “Synthetic organism” Leaping 2 (x5 distance, total: running 90’, standing 45’, high jump 22’) [2PP] “Synthetic organism” Morph 4 (Humans, +20 to disguise rolls, Extras: Duration [continuous], Feats: Attractive 2, Covers Scent, Drawbacks: Full round to change [-3], Not clothes [-1], Power Loss: Sleep [-1]) [10 PP] “Synthetic organism” Muscle Array (3 PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 2) [5 PP] BP: Enhannced Trait 3 (Endurance 3) [3/3 PP] “Hyperefficient” [3/3 PP] AP: Super Strength 2 (+10 Effective Strength, Flaws: Noticeable) “Hypertrophy” [3/3PP] AP: Enhanced Trait 3 (Escape Artist +12) [3/3 PP] “Hyperflexible” [3/3 PP] Quickness 2 (x5 Speed, Flaws: Physical actions only) [1 PP] “Synthetic Organism” Speed 2 (25 mph or 220’/rnd) [2 PP] “Synthetic organism” Synthetic Cell Array (22 PP Array, Feats: Alternative Power 3) [25 PP] BP: Nauseate 10 (Extras: Contagious, Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Fades*) [21/22PP] “Infect” AP: Healing 10 (Extras: Action [Standard], Total, Feats: Regrowth, Stabilise, Flaws: Fades*) [22/22] “Regenerate” AP: Strike 10 (Extras: Alt Save [Fort], Vampiric, Feats: Incurable, Sedation, Flaws: Fades*) [22/22PP] “Cannibalize” AP: Nullify 10 (All genetic powers, Extras: Alt Save [Fort], Disease [+2], Feats: Insidious, Subtle, Flaws: Fades*, Range [touch]) [22/22] “Genetic Deactivation” *”Cell Points” are recovered by eating and metabolising protein (about 1 PP/hour of eating, more for high quality protein sources, much less or none for low quality) Super Senses 6 (Acute Olfactory, Analytical Tactile, Extended Hearing 1 [x10], Extended Olfactory 1 [x10], Extended Vision 1 [x10], Tracking [Olfactory]) [6 PP] “Synthetic organism” Swimming 2 (5mph or 44’/rnd) [2 PP] “Synthetic organism” DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 23/25* Tough Damage (Staged) Infect Touch DC 25 Fort Nauseate Cannibalize Touch Dc 25 Fort Damage (Staged) DNA deactivate Touch Dc 25 Fort (Disease) Nullify (Genetic Powers) *With Rage Active Totals: Abilities (77) + Combat (40) + Saving Throws (4) + Skills (12) + Feats (10) + Powers (72) = 215/215 Power Points

I have a reward incoming (after July rewards and edits). I am contemplating reactivating Synth; a concept I liked, but I let become too powerful. So, toning back the powers. Thoughts welcome on everything, but most particularly; Where to put Synth? Plot hooks? Complications? Secret ID?

Ignoring the crowds, wrapping herself in a most resplendent cloak of confidence, brave Captain Flintlock marched to the struggling thief. "Why? Well, you may recall, ye little rapscallion, ye stole something from me. Snatched it right off me, ye did! More than a few doubloons, too" she declared. Addressing the crowd with a sweep of her arm and modest courtesy, she announced that Cik was a cutpurse, a rouge, a pickpocket, a thief, a scoundrel, and a few less savoury and polite terms that should not be repeated to gentlefolk. With a theatrical spin of body and skirt, she turned back to her captive. "Now then, I don't mind the loss of a coin or two, to be fair. But I would say you owe me a favour or two...what where you doing, and why were you doing it?"

Possibly Starshot, as Space and right PL. EDIT: Not sure Starshot would meld well with Claremonters; might not work.

Flintlock Black heart of Dagon (2 Posts) Straight Up Theft (21 or more posts!) Origin Story (?2 PP) Doctor Warp Handyman 20Q Reputation Starshot The Red Rat Lord Steam GM Black Heart of Dagon (1 GM Post) Deadbolt (36 posts) Count Down (20 posts) Notes Not sure if origin stories are worth 2PP for over 1K+ words; so 1 or 2PP depending... If you are feeling generous, +1 PP for Super INT Roster, awarded to Flintlock GM Posts: Total 114 Bonus Posts Bring Flintlock to 25 PP (how ever many needed), Starshot to 25 (25bonus), Doctor Warp to 25 (25 Bonus), Handyman to 25 (25bonus), and Red Rat to 25 (25 Bonus). The rest bonus points go to Steam.

Flintlock Origin Story “Say yer prayers, lads! We goin’ ta hell!” yelled Handsome Jack, first Mate of the Black Flag. The Black Flag was a fast ship, and for such a speedy, small vessel, it was armed well enough. Armed enough to splinter the timber of galleons and merchantmen, fast enough to outrun the men of war fielded by the English and French. But today, the Black Flag was facing Captain Blood and his ship, the Black Plunder. The Black Plunder was faster. The Black Plunder had more artillery. And Captain Blood was determined to sink the only contender to his crown as Pirate captain of the Caribbean. Said Contender was Captain Annabelle Flint. Buxom red head, with sunburnt flesh and most splendid hat. Swordswoman, pirate, and even occasional singer. She did not feel much like singing now. With another crack of canon fire from the Black Plunder, all hope vanished. The slow sinking of the Black Flag accelerated into a rapid descent into the waves. It was dark, with just a pale moon. Rain and cloud filled the skies. The sea was angry, with deep rolling waves, just short of a full blown storm. “’Tis been a pleasure, me mates! See you at the bottom!” she said, fiercely, as the Black Flag took in a wave, capsized, and drifted to the depths. What spirit kept her defiant to the end? As ship and crew sped downwards, to a watery and gloomy grave, she leapt from the ship, into the waves of the rolling sea. A fool’s hope, surely. ‘Twas however, not for Captain Flintlock to die that night. She could stay afloat in the rain. The Black Plunder did not tarry, for, as far as Captain Blood was concerned, the task was done. Morning came, sweet rays of sunshine breaking through the dissipating clouds and diminishing rain. By the time the sun had rose past the horizon, it could almost have been a pleasant day. Flintlock had only a small scrap of sodden wood to hold on to. The rest of the Black Flag was splinters or sunk. Where was she? The stars had not been seen. She fancied not waiting further. She could guess her rough position from whence they sank. Islands to the west, she supposed. At least, it was best to try, despite the long odds. Her odds would grow smaller still if she waited. Hence, to swim. And swim, she did. A goodly swimmer, she was, but this was a feat of grit, teeth, and parched lips. Of flagging muscles, and flagging spirits. But most of all, a feat of sheer luck. For the dice rolled kindly, beyond reasonable hope. At first, ‘twas but a thin strip of possibility on the horizon, taunting the Captain. Then, with laboured stroke, laboured stroke, salt water in eye and nose, it firmed, to become an island. Lungs aflame with brine and exhaustion, our brave Captain crawled across beaches of black sand, and lay still. Even hunger could not, for a moment, arouse her from a foetal slumber. Limbs were sore, and bones were cold. The island had, for one thing, heat. But not, alas, of the pleasant kind. A damp, fetid mist hung most unnatural on the island, making the sun hot but hazy. Her skin never truly dried, but wetness clung to her rags. Some semblance of life, sufficient for a ragged pace of foot, had entered her, when she heard the insane yelping and calling. At first, she fancied it was baboons, or some porcine beast. But, worse, it was men. Or men and women, to be more precise. Not that it seemed to matter much which was which. A degenerate tribe of every race, shipwrecked madman she imagined. Dressed in rags or filth, or nothing at all, dancing, hollering, communicating in some base creole. More emphatically, they communicated with convulsions of the body, frantic and diseased, with bulging eyes, with acts of injury to own flesh or even others. The ragged tribesmen were clearly insane, both individually and a gestalt. They prodded her, poked her, and eventually jumped her. She understood little of their gibbering; perhaps even they themselves did not understand much, if any, of their tongue. She caught sound of strange names, strange deities, and the Black Maw. It turned out that the Black Maw was the sorcerer of the tribe, dressed in a French Naval officers uniform (now sadly worn and infested), and, one would hazard a guess, also dressed with the previous wearer of that uniform. Namely, a skull dangling around his neck, and fingerbones adorning his waist. Black Maw was a small, spindly man, clearly affected with rather purulent disease of more than one denomination. His eyes protruded so far from his bald sweaty skull that one would fear they might pop out. His mouth, lips, and teeth where all jet black, although from one process, mundane disease or other worldly sorcery, one could not rightly say. All this Captain Flintlock observed being trussed up, and being gently lowered into a simmering cauldron of sweet, noxious ‘erbs and spices. The fact that she would end up tasting so foul somehow added insult to injury. The repugnant Black maw, his dark mouth grinning, a little slobber oozing from black lips, seemed to understand English a little better than the others. “Look at me, all skin and bones! Surely you would get better meat for your mouth if I served you, rather than you have me served!” ‘Twas desperate words from Captain Flintlock, aye, but better to live as a slave and fight another day. And a little play on words might at least endear her to some of the lunatics whirling around her. “Aye, speaking truth, serving girl, clap n’ irons!” “No de Irons! Bones, Vines, Noose on d’Neck! Hahahaha!” It was hard to follow them, but soon enough, with a rope round her neck, she was lead away by Black Maw too his dark, damp, cave. ‘Twas dim, ‘twas gloomy. Flintlock caught such an awful chill for the next week that many thought she would die. Hah! If nothing else, to spite them, she lived. At first she feared most heartily that the old Black Maw would be vile of intent, but the sorcerer seemed to have lost all lust, other than practicing his mad magicks. Instead, she was serving girl to him, beaten and slapped, worked half to death, but nothing worse. Black Maw had an impressive collection of scrawls and tomes, but his elderly eyes could no longer read any but the largest (and often least informative) texts. Few of the tribe could read, and those that could had no wish to descend further into lunacy by reading about the arts most black. In this, Flintlock made herself useful. She had managed to learn to read growing up; not well (alas, lacking proper education of any fine sort), but well enough to get by. ‘Twas hard going, given the chaos of the scrawls, the nature of Black Maw, and the plain horror of the texts, but she kept at it. For it was her skin; and by virtue of her value, her safety, and even relative comfort, was assured. The texts and tomes spoke of strange gods. The Unspeakable ones. The dreaming gods in strange cities, deep beneath the ocean. Of spiders and ghaunts, and shambling horrors in forgotten non Euclidean tombs. Her mind reeled, and wheeled, from the strange and terrible stories. For most unnerving of all was the realisation that they were not just stories… From these words came spells. To contact the deep ones, the aliens, the dread Gods. And more still, to summon them, bind them. Yay, for as terrible as the unspeakable one was, there was at least a glimmer of hope, for in such black magicks were spells to contain, command, and banish these dread beings. Great power, indeed. And, with time, and study, with deftness of tongue and plenty of deceit, such spells became the arsenal of Captain Flintlock. She had no wish for such terrible power to be in the hands of Black Maw. So, one day, she poisoned his gruel with ‘erb and disease. She did not enjoy tending to him as he let his life drain out (in manner most unpleasant) from rear end over the next few days, but from such trail came desired effect; the sorcerer collapsed in on himself, a dead withered old man. The tribe now seemed suspicious, but our brave Captain used spell to bring forth a spectral horror that drove the tribesman quite mad with fear and fury. As they proceeded to rend each other asunder with tooth and nail, she stole away to the beach. And here, she called forth the Deep ones. Toad-men, amphibious, evil, wet, and degenerate. A parley could still be made. A debt she would surely pay later, be it decades or centuries. Never the less, it was an agreement she had to make; for she did surely not wish to spend her days on the Island. Carried through oceans by the repugnant deep ones, she came to the site of the sunken Black Flag. Now, calling forth every mighty spell, from her heart, from depths cold and bleak, from pipes of madness, she drew up the Black Flag with spectral hands, with spectral tentacles, and with spectral bonds. Timber joined again, with sorcerous strength. Sails billowed, spraying deep brine. The decks littered with rotting submarine horrors (fish of most unusual and ugly appearance). And the crew of the Black Flag, undead, bones and rotting flesh, come animated once more. “Better this than the ocean floor!” said Handsome Jack, the first mate (now, with bones and sinew grey and swollen, more uglier than ever; and he had been remarkably ugly in life). And despite the grim situation, ‘twas sentiment shared (to greater or lesser extent) by the whole crew. Spirits, undead as they were, lifted a little when it was found that even in unlife, a state of intoxication could indeed be reached upon imbuing sufficient quantities of alcohol (in this case, stolen Rum). And, dead as they were, there was still Piracy to be had. A Captain stronger than ever. A ship that could sail all the shores of the world, aye, and worlds beyond. So set sail the Black Flag, Captain Flintlock, and the Skeleton Crew!

Time to let rip with perception range telekenesis! Presuming Flintlock can percieve cik, its automatic hit and opposed grapple, : 1d20+20 24 is her roll!

"You!" Her voice travelled, velvet and rumbling, through the fight. Cutting the air and the ambience. By every fetid witch, this was no time for holding back. Horrible though such magicks were, horrible as they peeled away at her brain, more horrible yet was the elusive Cik escaping once more. Sometimes, the consequences must be tossed overboard, even if they fed the storm. Raising her arms, horrible spectral tentacles rose from the floorboards, wicked and ghostly, and far too many. They curled and swam through the ether, in ways most unnerving, even to Flintlock who had seen them before (and more solid, mores the pity). Around and around they curled, in the blink of an eye, to hold Cik fast...

Ah, the smells of Singapore! It reminded of her of Gutboy fighting over a spice rack in a sleazy opium den, why, not a few leagues from here. That had been a raucous and violent affair. Swords had been swung, and Guntboy had lost a thumb. It had grown back later, of course. Such was the way of the dead. It was not, perhaps, surprising that the Skeleton Crew had got into a fight. They were loyal and obedient enough, and besides which chained by sorcery best not spoken of. But they were rapscallions and rogues, the lot of them. In a drinking establishment that estimation of their personality could be doubled, at least. Flintlock was not overtly fond of shattering glass, for perhaps Cik was making her escape via another route. Curses! She would not get away a second time. In she burst, to the main pub, to see what was happening...

Fluff corrected. PP totals: Had over charged for Combat, should have been 52 PP, not 54 PP. Corrected the annotation to make it 200PP (no change to actual powers/skills/etc, this was an annotation error). Corrected all three sheets accordingly. Adaptation: You are correct (as was I, sort of). The Adaptation Power above is build as Action 2 Extra, not Flaw. It still adds up to 5 PP. I have corrected on all three sheets.

If Cik was there, and she saw Flintlock, it would be another chase, which would only lead to vexatious failure. No, this time, things would be different! She thumped her fist into her palm. "Pete, Rose, Lucy. Go in there, drink. When the young lady comes in, grab her!" The Skeleton crew looked a little perplexed. Drinking was fine, grabbing women, a little more odd. "Aye Aye cap'n!" they muttered, a little unsure. Flintlock was sure that Cik would evade her crew. They were able enough, but not fast enough. Instead, she scouted the back of the Pub, looking for escape routes. The Crew would drive the rat out of another exit. And Flintlock would be waiting. The Kitchens were the obvious way out. She creaked open the back door, taking a peek inside...

IM not sure we ever had a name for the pub, but One eyed Pete, Thin Lucy, and Ginger Rose were staking it out too. Not sure the most fun play here! Im tempted to have Flintlock go in, and the crew outside, but its one of those situations I am genuinely not sure about.... If you can think of a fun way to burn an HP to get some inspiration, like hanging outside of the kitchens whilst the skeleton crew chase her out, that would work for me...

So broadly speaking, a scene ciut back to the bar? Might be a wait but Cik was returning (ish?) Ill burn an HP if need be to scene edit / inspire etc.

Flintlock was a pirate, not an accountant. Still, books and writing were part of any businesswoman's life. Her finger traced the lines, the ink, the scrawls. Scale of Hydra? That looked worrisome. Cik Kunchai was the jackpot. The vintage rum in the barrel of swill. She doubted the mysterious woman was the root cause of the mystery, but she was clearly connected. The middle man, or woman, in this case. Someone with whom one could have a conversation. She cracked her knuckles. Now, the trick would be finding Kunchai. Or Osman. Or both of them. Or both of them were one and the same. Hopefully, she could catch the Parkour expert this time. No trying to vault around Singapore. Flintlock was nimble enough but outclassed, clearly. This time, she would use sorcery!

Flintlock drummed her fingers together in anticipation! Booty! Yay, booty of a different nature to gold and silver, rubies and gems. But information could be booty too. Sometimes more valuable. 'Twas better to avoid a fleet of angry Frenchmen by spies and informants than to sail with a cargo full of gold and get shot to the depths of the sea. She thanked the stars, both the living ones and the dead ones too. There was something here to salvage, like a drowning man kissing a piece of driftwood. As far as she could tell, there was no hurry. And, she supposed, if there was, and interruptions sprung, then by her hat, she would conjure up something horrible to scare them away, like last time! And so, feet on desk, rear on chair, she started to sift...

"By Dagon's black heart! What am I, a troll?" she grunted, pushing at the door. She disliked Trolls, most heartily. Aside from their irritable nature (and most irritable they were too), they were uncouth, ugly, and had a tendency (at least in her experience) to burp the most foul, noxious air. Like a fermenting swamp. She could only imagine the odour of gas escaping from the other end. Tucking her knife under her skirt, and her pistol (safety on!) into her sash, she heaved into the door with all her strength. 'Twas not that she was a weakling. Nay, not that, she told herself. But perhaps the years drinking rum in the captains cabin rather than scrubbing decks and heaving sails had sapped her limbs of a little strength. Well, mayhap I have lost a little of my vigour! But I am three hundred years old! Aye, and more! Her lungs and sinews strained on the door...

Edited by da Durf Updating Doctor Warp. I realise now his density makes travel difficult, so adding in some equipment. Could you add Feat: Equipment 12 And the following Equipment Block Headquarters "Glass House" (Ultra high tech Steel and glass building in North Freedom City) Toughness: 10 [1 EP], Size: Large/Mansion [2 EP], Features 18: Autonomous (Small drones and electronics attend to minor tasks like cleaning, lights, doors, coffee in the morning etc), Communications, Computer, Defence System (Knockout Gas), Fire Prevention System, Garage, Laboratory, Library, Masterwork Building, Masterwork Living Quarters 2, Power System, Security System 5 (DC 40), Workshop [18 EP] [21 EP Total] Vehicle "Warpmobile" (Grav Car of extraordinary power, able to carry very heavy passengers!) Toughness: 10 [1 EP], STR: 60 [6 EP], Size: Huge [2 EP], Features 6: Alarm 3 [DC 30], Masterwork, Navigation System 2 [+10 to rolls] [6 EP], Powers: Flight 8 (2500 mph, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Feats: Subtle, Drawbacks: Limited to 15' Elevation [-2 PP]) [23 EP], Super Senses 1 (Radio) [39 EP] Total