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Supercape

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  1. "A Mango, A whale, and a cutlass....twice over!" sang Flintlock, slurred and drunk. Despite her raucous sea shanty her ears pricked when she heard the gossip. She liked gossip. It was neither entirely true, nor entirely false, and thus a perfect encapsulation of life. With a large mug of rum, her pirate hat askew, her clothes hanging lopsided, her gait the dance of a drunken acrobat, she made her way over to the gossiper and sat down, pushing him an ancient doubloon across the table. "That sounds like a fine tale for the night, me fine fellow" she started, leaning forward, then back again, moving her head with dolls eyes. "Cargo vanishing? Sea-Swellers? Aye, sounds a mighty fine tale, and I'd be hearing it! I've seen the deep ones, I seen the sea dwellers, and I seen vanishing cargo!" she said, full of encouragement. Of course, she had often 'vanished' cargo herself. "How y'come by this tale? And what y'hear?"
  2. "As little time as we can spare" answered Flintlock, finally getting some focus. "The longer we wait, the graver the risk. Maybe a second, maybe a year. I do not know what awfulness the heart of Dagon contains, nor do I know how it could be used. Perhaps it could not be used at all" "But we cannot take that risk. If Dagon awakes, the world shall tremble! We must destroy it! Even if they cannot use it, even if the spells and rituals are lost and unknown, even if the very best of circumstances befall, the mere heart itself is a poisonous black thing, that will blight all in its wake" "I can almost smell its foulness here!" And with the eye of belief, one could imagine a slightly rotten, existentially nauseating atmosphere lingering. "And to be destroyed, then we must consult the Cthaat Aquading! and hope that it contains some clue, some ritual, that could do so. I confess, black as it is, I would see this work! Pray, bring it forth!"
  3. Awesome! So that means Echo is Exhausted! We have a minute of conversation; unless you want to attack the Gas Man of course, and then the poison effect kicks in; another DC 15 Fort save! Post away IC, or if you want to attack / intimidate / perform (dance) then post here too!
  4. GM "Jesus! If its not some fire-freak, its some whizz wonder!" gasped the Gas Man, backing off. From shocked fingers, his grenade slipped his hands. Tap tap, it clattered off a bin and hit the ground. Whoosh wen the smoke. A rather pleasing sound, followed by a rather unpleasant putrid green fuzz in the air. It did not obscure the vision, although everything did look rather green. And it clambered up the nostril. Didn't smell to bad, actually. Everything might well feel rather splendid. And one's eyes might just feel rather tired. One might be inclined to just rest your eyelids for a moment. One might be inclined to slump to floor quite asleep. And so it was with Mr Jack Longweel, Esq, who was dribbling slightly, snoring severely, and quite gone to dreamland. The Gasman didn't seem affected in the slightest...
  5. Yep even flat footed that will miss. So, the Gas Man will drop his grenade, knocking out (sleeping) Jack. Its a Fort 15 Save for Echo, but lets drop out of combat after that save!
  6. GM "Oh my heart!" complained a pale Jack, leaning against a wall. "What will kill me first, my angina, or that man shooting me?" he asked in a moment of splendidly black humour. The rats, eating stale half-eaten pastries, appeared to have some primitive sense of impending violence. As if the alley was a sinking ship, they scuttled away, leaving their decomposing treasure, The backdoor exploded open, thanks to a heavy boot applied in a forceful manner. The man was strong, not just big. The door actually splintered and cracked. Up close, this "Gas Man" was grizzled. He had salt and pepper hair, and salt and pepper stubble. A scar or two, neither subtle nor disfiguring, crossed his granite face. He was not holding a weapon, but could easily be carrying one under his coat. Spying Jack, who had gone white, but not Buffy, he reached inside his jacket for a grenade... "I can't actually assault you, but I can accidentally drop this registered knockout gas grenade..." he said, with a surprising tone of politeness for all his force.
  7. So Gas Man cannot beat that, you have a surprise round!
  8. GM "What tha..." gasped Jack, as he got pulled along. Panic rising, he looked behind him. The large man was picking up pace, accelerating to something between a run and a walk. His coffee was thrown to one side. "Ackgh...." came a gurgling noise from Jack. He was not a coward, in the sense that he had a reputation (of sorts) for digging where it was not entirely safe to dig. But a six foot two man with thick arms and a determined jaw was a different sort of palpable, in the moment threat. "What da..." said a wide eyed Paul, as Buffy half threw Jack out the back entrance. They half collapsed through a small corridor, then the fire door, into a back alley. A rat scuttled away. Bins overflowed with black bags full of left over pastries and stained plastic cups. The large man marched through the coffee shop, looking for business. His business, was, it seemed, encapsulated in the way he cracked his large knuckles. "What da...?" said Paul again, meeting the eyes of the man for a moment. "Go make some damn coffee and stay outta my way..." said the man, giving Paul a look that withered any trace of courage. He looked at the back entrance, and broke into a run.
  9. GM "Yeah, sounds good" said a worried Jack. He finished his coffee in one big gulp. "I mean, I don't know where I'll run too...but I'd rather not have some goddam spook on my ass" he conceded. "You know..." he paused, genuinely touched..."I've been a pariah the last year, after I got sued. Its nice to have someone hear me. Give me half a chance, even if I might be a crazy" he smiled. "Show me out...I appreciate it..." Even as Buffy and Jake took a few steps, a man leaped out of the van, not too casual. He was a big man, well built, wearing heavy clothes, a trenchcoat (Despite the weather), and a beanie. He had a grizzled look, a few scars, and a set jaw. It was easy to imagine a gun, or two, or more, under that big jacket. He was holding a coffee, but was still swiftly walking to the coffee shop.
  10. HP for secret ID being an issue when stuff is happening. Echo - Unharmed - 2 HP
  11. GM Jack patted his jacket pocket. "Damn. No cigarrettes. And I gave up two years ago. Sheesh. Id kill for one now. Even if they kill me" he mumbled. A certain shifty look dropped over his face. " How to stop em? Good question. I been thinking that over myself the last few hours. Damn good question" He settled for his coffee. "Well I don't know Karate or Judo. Fired a gun once. All I could think of was trying to find what they were tracking before they did. Huh, like I stand a chance. All I knew is that it circling around this area" he said, pressing his temples and squeezing his eyes. "Like, this very street. Could be right below us. Feel anything spooky? Do ya?" he asked, like a man clutching at straws. "No? Well, damnit, neither do I. Don't know if I would feel anything anyway. Maybe the sugar cubes would levitate or something" he said, forlorn. "And even if I found it, what would I do? Invite it to an all exclusive interview?" he asked, a trace of laughter with a trace of hysteria. "So, your guess is a good as mine" he said, distracted, looking over her shoulder. "Recognise that van?" he asked, indicating the street. Over the road, a black van, armoured, with the words "GAS MAN", was parked.
  12. GM "Yeah, breathe, breathe...." said the sweating hack. He brought out some medicine and stuck it under his tongue. "GTN. For angina..." he said, rubbing his chest. "Jesus my cardiologist will kill me..." he laughed. He gave a cynical laugh straight after. "What I am saying? Like I'm gonna see my cardiologist again. Unless I move to Siberia this weekend...." he moaned. A few more deep breaths and he started to relax. Relatively relax. "Phew...this is enough to get me back on the valium..." A few more breaths, and he was nearly back to normal. "I don't know what anomaly it is. I'm not sure they do. And they have some proper scientists working with them. Me, I didn't study quantum physics much in high school. Thing is, nobody would believe me. I'm disgraced. I got a motive to slander Neutron Industries again. Nobody would give me the time of day if I came up with something like that" he said, solidly. "Best guess is, something from another dimension. Sucking up other dimensions. Or other anomalies. Or something like that. Sort of like a black hole, except sucking up dimensions rather than space. Look, I don't know. I write corruption stories. Or papparazi scandal when I'm short of cash. I know law and journalism. Not theoretical physics. Get that short asshat Doctor Warp for that. Jesus, that guy is fatter than me..." he wheezed. "Hell, what am I doing? Blubbing my guts to you. I'm sure they have a tail on me..." he said, looking out of the coffee shop window suspiciously.
  13. GM Now that he had a bite, Jack looked somewhat embarrassed. "Look...Buffy...I'm sorry for that rant over there" he said, playing with his coffee in his hands. "You ever heard of Neutron Industries? Bunch 'o Jackasses, they make a business out of nuclear and experimental energies. And like any good coorperation, they are after money not safety. Some hero called Bonfire knocked out a reactor of theirs a month back. Guy deserves a medal, if you ask me, but he got roasted. They have good lawyers" he complained. "Guys sued the hell out of me last year. For stuff I said that I know is true but cant prove it..." "But, even though they have the morals of a leech, they do know there stuff. I caught whisper..." again, he looked embarrassed, even fearful. "...Caught whisper that they have picked up something even they are scared of" he said, nervously, undoing his tie with sweaty palms. "And given they play dice with nuclear fallout, that's gotta be serious, right?" He mopped his brow again. "And worse, if I know them, they are going to exploit it. Sure, they are worried now, but if they see an angle, they will take it. I don't know whats worse, to be honest. Everything looks horrible right now" "They have picked up some dimensional anomalies over the last forty eight hours. A moving anomaly. They don't know what to make of it other than it looks bad. Real bad. Sent out men to try and track it down. Two men fried so far. I mean, literally, fried. Like, not breathing fried..." he gasped, on the verge of a panic attack. "Jesus, if they knew I knew...hell, if they knew I was talking to you..." he gasped, aware that his rambling may have put Buffy in danger.
  14. GM Jack gave a sardonic and short laugh. "Stressed. Yeah. You could say that" he said, slowly and faintly. "High blood pressure, diabetes, fat, fifty. Hell, my heart would have probably given out anyway" he laughed, without any real mirth. "Look kid, you are nice. Served up my coffee with a smile for, how long?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "You know what I do? Jack Longwheel, freelance reporter and slanderer. Thing is, I found out you can slander someone even if its true" he said, bitterly, and sighed. "SO much for doing the right thing. Shoulda learned my lesson. Trouble is, a hear too much..." he said, evasively, looking around the coffe shop and spying no spies. "You done me good. Strong coffee. Dont give me an ear bashing. Look like a good kid. If you want to hear some mad end of the world warnings, then take a break, and get yourself a coffee. Ill be over there, deciding whether to blow it all in Las Vegas for the weekend, or whether to get shot dead trying to stop it..." he said, almost apologetically. "But thanks for the coffee, any how" he said. In all the time Buffy had known Jack Longwheel come for coffee, he had always been polite, friendly. This was out of character. He never flirted with the waitresses, always tipped well, and was well liked.
  15. GM Friday Mid Afternoon, June 3rd Starbase Coffee Southside A blend of pleasant coffee aroma swirled in the air. It was hot outside, and a pervasive kind of dustiness filled the air, a precipitation of pollution and sweat. Nobody was feeling very energetic, despite the caffeine. And at this time of afternoon it was never that busy. And today it seemed positively quiet. A trickle of the tired, a line of lethargic. Jack Longwheel ordered his coffee. It was full of cream and milk, and Jack Longwheel did not mind. He had given up trying to control his ever expanding waistline years ago. Jack Longwheel was a hack. He covered gossip and covered corruption. Neither of these topics had earned him many friends. It had earned him money, and a lot of fines. Most recently, he had been nearly broken by publishing accusations on Neutron Industries unclean energy. Accusations that were, all agreed, probably true, but unproven. He was a regular, Jack. A cynical man in his fifties who knew too much but like a dog with a red rag, couldn't quite let go. He knew "Buffy" stein. Every friday, like clockwork, about this hour. "The regular, ma'am. And a one way ticket to Hell on the side please..." he sighed. "God the things I hear...." he mumbled under his breath. "I'd Jack your Job in and sail to Hawaii, if I was you. Don't want to be stuck in Freedom City this weekend!" he said. He wiped his brow. Rotund as he was, Jack Longwheel did not normal have cold anxious sweat. He did today.
  16. GM Sveta returned, holding two vodka martini's. They had a slice of lemon in. They were almost crystal clear. One could almost see how very dry they were. She handed one to Asad, and took a sip of her own. Not too spartan, and not too liberal a sip. Her eyes landed on Merge. "I smell history" she said, looking at the two of them, with a polite suspicion, or more accurately, an interest. Merge was certainly difficult to ignore. "I don't want to get in the way of a lovely reunion" she said, without awkwardness, even a little demure. "Ill be at the pool, sunning my ass and sipping on this" She raised her glass. "I'd stop by, if I was you. And not just for the view of my ass" she said, her tone flecked with seriousness now. "I'm not here just for pleasure. This conference is hot stuff. I'd keep your eyes open" she explained to Asad. "My are" With that, she took her martini with her, walking without undue haste or sloth to the pool. Her hips swaying, her movements lithe, but not perhaps as much as they had been.
  17. Starshot made sure that both he and his crew filled their water bottles to the brim, as well as drinking as much as he could. Dehydration would kill them sooner than starvation. So what if Ill be taking a leak every hour...better than shrivelling like a corpse. Not for the first time, he thought of making a run for it. But for two reasons, he decided against it. "They know this planet. And we don't. If it was the planet of soft cuddly baboons, that may not count for much" he explained to his crew over drinking time. "But I fear it is a planet of teeth and claw. Not to mention a lot of the sun, and not much of the water. At least, here. Who knows what the jungles or the mountains hold. I suspect they will not be welcoming either" The second reason, he kept to himself. From the Sky Tribes of Omecron 8, to the Moon Hunters of Carsan, he had befriended so called "primitives" in the past, having a fascination for their "simple" cultures. And, at some level, at discomforting pleasure at the rituals of hunting, so entwined with life. And whilst these aliens might have more tentacles than was palatable, they also held that same fascination for him. He was not entirely sure he could walk away not knowing of the rituals. And, prideful though it may be, he was not entirely sure he could walk away from the challenge. Taking a last swig, he went to find The Ul-Mor who had first "spoken" to him. Not easy. His eye was not trained to differentiate them. What can you tell me of this world? He was keen to know.
  18. Updating this for 2016 Rules: PC must have earned 5 PP to be on this roster (so done to exclude people who make a PC then leave or change their minds soon after!) Player must have been active (posted) in last three months. Effective STR is calculated by base STR, plus any ranks of Super Strength. Some things are a judgement call. I have judged according to the spirit of the roster, namely, overall strength. Boost, Density, Rage, and Growth all count. Variable powers count only if it is a “reasonable” use of the variable power (i.e. reasonably fits descriptor of the variable power). Hard to lose devices count. Easy to Lose devices judged on a case by case basis. Limited Strength Super Strength, such as to grip, to one limb, or so on, will, in general not be counted (as its “overall” strength). Other drawbacks such as fades, or distracting, do. And so, onward. If anybody spots any errors, please feel free to make a post afterwards and I will edit if I agree! Please note this is not as easy as it looks, and mistakes happen! Whenever I do this I get a barrage of angry players (well, not that angry!) and corrections are easily made. Also please note that this has been done, as previously, for interests’ sake (and who is Freedom City Gonna Call when an Aircraft carrier gets dumped in the park). Don’t take it as a competition. Finally, I have slightly altered the categories compared to previous Rosters, to give a more even spread. Superheavyweight (75+) 111 Phalanx 103 Paradigm 90 Triasoka 85 Galvanic 85 Citizen 83 Glamazon 80 Vion Shenshchina Heavyweight (50-74) 73 Torpedo Lass 69 Meatheral 69 Rock 65 Asad 61 Cobalt Templar 60 Doctor Warp 60 Sea Devil 57 Ms Britannia 54 Miss Americana 53 Titan 52 Cannonade 50 Hronos 50 Revenant 50 Miracle Girl Supermediumweight (35-49) 49 Arcturus (In bear form, potentially higher in other forms) 49 Wander 46 Echo 46 Wail 44 Willow 41 Master Vyrdna 40 Harrier 40 Bliss 40 Cavalier 40 Reagent 40 Miss Grue 39 Comrade Frost 37 Leviathan 37 Dragonfly 35 Phantasmo the Unliving Mediumweight (26-34) 32 Skaere (full wolf form) 30 Net Fly 30 Argonaut 30 Corona 30 Nighthawk 30 Blue Stinger 26 Nightingale 26 Merge Trois 26 Ape Rat (Red Rat) Peak Human (20-24) 24 Silver Spider 24 Wraith (Potentially more if shapeshifted, up to 49) 24 Ace Danger 22 Ardent 22 Grimalkin (with Rage) 22 Wayward 20 The Traveller 20 Blue Jay 20 Starshot 20 Terrifica 20 Psyche 20 Ouroboros Exceptional Human (16-18) 18 Blodeuwedd 18 Foreshadow II 18 Elite 18 Nevermore 18 Geckoman 18 Arrowhawk 16 Red Rat (See also Brain Rat, Ape Rat) 16 Grim 16 Jack of All Blades 16 Eclipse 16 Ghost Girl (Corporeal Form) 16 Frostbyte 16 Bombshell 16 Ruby Voxx 16 Woodsman 16 Tsunami Normal Human (10-15) 15 Velocity 14 Edge 14 Gabriel 14 Thoughtspeed 14 El Huracan 14 Lord Steam 14 Gaian Knight 14 La Rendarde Bleue 12 Presto 12 Nick Cimitiere 12 Set 12 Red Moon 12 Fast Forward 10 Equinox 10 Temperance 10 Errant 10 Roulette 10 Quenie 10 Sparkler 10 Wave Rider 10 Doctor Deoxy 10 Phantom 10 Fleur de Joie 10 Bonfire 10 Flintlock 10 Sandman 10 Starlight 10 Miras 10 Synapse 10 Riff 10 Moon Moth Weakling (Below 10) 8 Kit 8 Endeavor 8 Hologram 8 Psyche 6 Brain Rat (Red Rat)
  19. GM Sveta took in Merge, with barely the twitch of an eyebrow. But she laughed at the comment about Bond villains. "My God, I've never been a Bond villain" she replied. "Although I'm Russian and have a mysterious past, that much is true" she conceded. She was about to say more, but stopped herself, looking at Merge. "Quite a crowd here at the Buck" she said, sipping on a vodka. It was only a gentle sip; enough to savour without risking intoxication. "But let me get the drinks. Vodka Martini?" she said with a wink, moving towards the bar, all swaying hip. As she brushed past Asad, she pulled him slightly, and, out of sight of Merge (or at least one of them), whispered to him. "I would say more, but for your ears only..."
  20. Flintlock History: The Age of Piracy 1664-1674 In 1690, during the Golden Age of Piracy, Ms Annabelle Flint arrived in Tobago with her mother. ‘Twas a brutal uncertain time, with the Dutch, English, Spanish, Swedish, and French all fighting over the island, not to mention conflict with indigenous population. By the Time Ms Flint was fifteen (in 1694), the young rapscallion had decided her mothers’ life of drink, endless toil, and penniless hardship was not for her. No, ‘twas to be a pirates’ life. Joining up (dressed as a young boy) on the nefarious Black Flag, captained by the daring Captain Hawk, she scrubbed decks and hoisted sails. For all her powers of deception, she was eventually outed as a girl (or, by that time, more accurately a fair maiden). But by that time she had friends on the crew, grit in her mettle, and could handle the ship as well as anyone. Piracy, in them days, was open to women and slaves and all sorts. So competent was Ms. Flint that when the daring Captain Hawk was lost at sea, celebrating his latest victory by getting blind drunk and dancing on deck in the middle of a ferocious storm (with predictable “Man overboard” results), that Ms. Flint seized her opportunity to become Captain Flint, pirate of the Black Flag, at the “Tender” age of 22 (1671) And so began a three year history of the most successful plunder and loot, where Captain Flint and the Black Flag roamed the seas, changing allegiances from one European power to the next, and helping themselves to much bounty. History: The Island of the Unspeakable One (1674-1675) Not all good things last for ever. The rum and gold will run out soon enough. In this case, the end was from another pirate, the mysterious Captain Blood, who had had enough of the competition. The Black Flag had sunk many a pretender, but was undone by an equally cunning (or, in this case, more cunning) captain. Down it went, complete with all crew. Captain Flint survived, hiding under upturned wreckage. Her only hope was to swim the seas. Despite the odds, she made found her way to a small uncharted island, exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated. Here, her good fortune was to be marred by ill fate. The Island was home to a cult, who worshipped the Unspeakable one and all his unspeakable kindred. The cultists were odd, deranged, devolved, eating strange deformed fish, and howling simian songs. Initially, Captain Flint found herself in a robust iron pot, underneath a fire, ready to be literally cannibalised. However, she managed to persuade the cultist’s head sorcerer, Tul C’Tul, that she would be more useful as a serving wench than a meal. And so entered a year of horrible servitude to the mad sorcerer. Despite miserable circumstance, Ms. Flint was not to let opportunity waste. Instead, she studied the mad cultist, his ways, and his strange and horrible texts and tomes. She had an aptitude for such strange and horrible knowledge it seemed. For whence a year had passed, the young Ms. Flint caved in the head of Tul C-Tul with a blunt spoon. Sneaking of the vile island with a few of those horrible tomes, she set about summoning the deep ones, degenerate tribes of the deep sea, and bade them do her will. Into the seas they took her, till she had reached the very spot the Black Flag had sunk… History: Sailing strange Tides (1675 onwards) ...And using horrible magick, of which little should be said and less should be heard, a dreadful leviathan arose. In its mighty tentacles, the Black Flag, reborn. Blacker than ever, faster than ever, the Black Flag was manned with the undead, now more loyal than ever to the might sorcerer-pirate-queen of the seas. Plunder there was to be had, there was no doubt. But Captain Flint had changed on the island of the unspeakable one. She had seen horrors, terrors, and aberrations that could not be forgotten, and surpassed any mortal cruelty she had seen on the seas and oceans. With time, Captain Flint and the Black Flag changed course. Cults and degenerate tribes were broken and scattered. Horrible creatures banished. Sorcerers vanquished. Necromancers killed (well, killed again). Even other pirates fell to the cannons of the Black Flag and the sorcery of Captain Flint. And stranger shores beckoned. Firstly, the shores of all five continents. Then, beyond, into the oceans of other worlds and moons, of liquid ether and the void of the astral plane. To the plateau of Leng, to the piping madness in the centre of the universe. Over the years, Captain Flint has sailed countless seas and met countless mariners. She had a furious affair with Captain Nemo, drunk with Captain Ahab, visited Ry’leh and its dreaming horror, and navigated the jungle-rivers of Barsoom. Costume and Appearance Flintlock looks like a pirate, although she does vary her garb. On modern day Earth, for instance, she will sometimes dress as a sailor of modern times. She generally prefers pirate garb, however, with a nice pirate hat. Her appearance is of a tallish woman of average build, sun-browned, with dark red hair normally loose and long. She has a few tattoos of arcane or mundane type. She normally carries a flint lock pistol and a knife. For all her sorcerous power, Flintlock is reluctant to use such witchcraft, due to the danger to others and her self. If she can get away with a knee to the nether regions or a shot of her pistol, then that is what she would do. Summoning the horrors beyond the mortal veil. (Powers) Flintlock can summon and command arcane creatures from other dimensions (or even our own). Such horrors are usually used to spectrally manipulate; grasping, biting, crushing, throwing, holding inanimate or animate things. For instance, a ghostly leviathan might wrap spectral tentacles around a man, and haul him to the skies (or crush the air from him). She can also use such horrors to possess a man, driving him mad, insane, or filling him with passion (of one sort or another). Flintlock’s spirit can also leaver her body, travelling the world (and many worlds) on the astral plane. The Black Flag The Black Flag is a medium sized privateer from the Golden Age of Piracy, and a fine ship she is. She has a rather black appearance, and a jet black flag. It is armed with port and starboard cannons that are enchanted and powerful. The Black Flag can skim through even rough waters at amazing speed, and can easily outrun even the fastest marine vessel. It can summon rough storms around it to improve its advantage, since it simply cuts through waves without difficulty (whilst other vessels will be thrown by such weather). The Black Flag is manned by Captain Flintlock herself, and ten undead crew (the “Skeleton Crew”). It also has a pet parrot, Beaky. The Skelton Crew (of the Black Flag) Then Skeleton Crew are the ten undead crewmembers of the Black Flag. The appearances given below are of their “alive” appearance, an illusion that masks the rotting flesh and bones that are there true (and horrific) appearance. Handsome Jack, First Mate German. Handsome Jack is a middle aged bald man. His already unattractive face is further distorted by a “X” of scars running lopsided over his face. Handsome Jack is, however, an expert sailor and knows how to handle maritime war. “Lash”, Carpenter / Shipwright Freed-Slave, Lash is a large, rotund man with jet black skin and a loud laugh. His back is a network of livid scars. Despite his jocularity, he will come down hard on anyone who does not pay respect to the Black Flag. He uses a whip instead of a sword; perhaps because he used to have a particularly cruel “master” when he was a slave. Sweet Jennie, Gunner Swedish. Sweet Jennie is a petite woman with almost platinum blonde hair and shining blue eyes, who wears formless and unattractive clothes. Sweet Jennie is a dour sarcastic woman with a cruel tongue, who is generally nasty to everyone. Her only love are the cannons of the black Flag, which she dotes on almost romantically. Monkey Spike, Lookout English. Spike the Monkey is the lookout of the Black Flag, nearly always manning the Crow’s Nest. He is a thin, wiry fellow of young years. He has very tall, spiked red hair. Spike the Monkey is quite at home in the Crow’s nest, with good eyes and a natural flair for climbing rigging. Gaston “Gutboy”, Cook French. Gutboy is short and fat with long greasy grey hair and a stained apron. He was the ships cook. Now, he only occasionally cooks for Captain Flintlock (the only person who actually needs to eat). He fancies himself as much more of a cook than he is, although truth be told he is not actually that bad. One-Eyed Pete, Ship-hand English. One-Eyed Pete is an average build man with an eye patch and a pony tail of dark hair. He always carries around a pack of thumbed cards and some dice. He has a habit of licking his lips around money or wealth in a rather unbecoming way. Perhaps the greediest of the Black Flag, One-eyed Pete loves to gamble, and loves to cheat at cards (which is how he lost his eye in the first place…) Ginger Rose, Ship-hand Irish. Ginger Rose is a pleasant looking red haired woman, slightly short and slightly plump, fairly easy on the eye and probably the nicest member of the Black Flag. Ginger Rose looks after the Black Flag’s parrot, Beaky. Thin Lucy, Ship-Hand Ex Slave, Lucy is tall and obese, dark skinned and dark haired, but surprisingly agile for her size. Not the hardest worker of the crew, Lucy loves music and dance, often leading the crew in a song (and distracting them from other tasks). She carries a beaten up fiddle. She uses a stout wooden stick to fight with rather than a cutlass. Billy the Fish, Ship-Hand Ex-Slave, A capable strong, even handsome young man with long black hair and a deep brown colour to his skin, Billy the Fish is a jovial crewman, who is a natural underwater. Now he no longer needs to breathe, he is often found swimming the shallows, exploring the seabed contentedly. Billy is a strong contender for the nicest member of the Black Flag, one who does not actually enjoy piracy or violence (or even drink) but has fallen in love with the sea. Razor Renzo, Ship-Hand Italian. Razor Rezno is a short white haired middle aged man of average build and dark eyes. He has weathered brown skin. He is all smiles and charm initially (or at least, he thinks he is charming) but is also deeply paranoid. “Razor” is wanted for several counts of murder as well as Piracy (admittedly, three centuries ago), and whilst loyal to the Black Flag, is, as they say “a nasty piece of work” who thinks nothing of cutting throats and back stabbing. Fortunate, it is, that Captain Flint has the Skeleton Crew tightly bound and commanded by her magicks…
  21. The Red Rat The Red Rat (Noemi von Neuman) is an ex-Soviet Superspy, who has been cryogenically frozen and released for special high risk operations over the past fifty years. A few years ago, well after the collapse of the Iron Curtain, she was found by AEGIS operators in Russia. Once defrozen, however, she had no wish to become a political pawn again, and escaped to Freedom City where she works as a Taxi-driver and superspy - superhero. History The Red Rat was a soviet experiment from the 1960s. Groups of political dissidents were exposed to the “Darwin-X” virus, created by the Super-Scientist “Doctor Zero”. Few survived. The Darwin-X virus induced (when it does not kill) adaptive mutations to the Red Rat, allowing her to survive the implantation of the SLAVE system into her head. The Slave System was a computer system, well ahead of its time that was implanted into the skull of the spy directly, and replaced human eyes with much more advanced cybernetic ones. It was created by a shadowy Soviet called “Motherboard”, a young (at that time) woman who could design and programme computers decades in advance of the technology at that time. Over the decades, the SLAVE system became progressively more advanced as it was updated, to the point of possible artificial intelligence. After the collapse of the USSR, the soviet spy programme imploded, and the Red Rat was left in cold storage for decades, until AEGIS unearthed her. Escaping their clutches, never again willing to work for any government, the Red Rat fled, eventually ending up in Freedom City. She keeps a low, but watchful profile, as the taxi driver Noemi Newman, illegal immigrant. The SLAVE system has not only provided her with several advantages (most usefully, the ability to hack into computer systems), but also background on “Project Ice”, a deep-cover spy operation in the USA (and Europe), which it seems not even the KGB knew about. Project ICE was led by four super powered hard-core Russian Communists. The super scientist “Doctor Zero” (who created the Darwin-X virus), the Computer genius “Motherboard”, the Superspy “Red Snake”, mistress of poisons, and most enigmatic and dangerous of all “the Sleeper”, a telepath who could implant hidden commands in anyone, potentially making anyone in the world his own sleeper-agent, ready to activate at any trigger. Project ICE was designed to create a communist Utopia for the world, and even activate as a fail safe back up should the USSR fall. The Sleeper was (and is) a communist visionary, dedicated to the cause. Amongst their many achievements, they have set up secret underground stations in many, or possibly all, cities. The Red Rat, thanks to SLAVE, was able to track down one of these stations in a disused part of Freedom City, and appropriate some of their advanced technology. Costume and Appearance The Red Rat is of average height and in phenomenal shape. Whilst she is not super strong, the Darwin-X mutations give her greater energy and recovery, and combined with an aggressive workout regime, she has a muscular strong physique. She has medium length blond hair and Slavic good looks. Her costume is a silver-grey spandex leggings and crop top. On top she will wear a light red jacket, with a rat emblem (in darker red) on the back. She also wears black leather boots. She has two guns on her hips and boot knives, alongside carrying some spy equipment (mini tracers, microphones) at her belt. Powers The Red Rat is able (thanks to the Darwin-X virus) to adapt to the environment, such as growing fur in cold environments, or gills underwater. She ages slowly, and needs little sleep (3-4 hours a night will leave her completely refreshed). The Red Rat can also “Super-evolve” into a hyper intelligent but physically shrivelled form, or “Super-devolve” into a powerful primitive human with limited cognitive abilities. The SLAVE system provides her with cybernetic eyes (and many super human senses) plus improved tactical and computer information, allowing her to (for instance) hack remotely into computer systems, or decrypt coded information. She also has access to some highly advanced Project ICE equipment, such as her guns and her headquarters. Finally, the Red Rat is a well trained spy with much experience over her years of operation. This includes being an expert in combat and martial arts (utilising mainly the Sambo style of Russian unarmed combat). Allies and Enemies The Red Rat is a suspicious sort and has no real allies (that she completely trusts). She has made a few friends at work, most particularly Charley Chalks, the sassy night receptionist. She is also on familiar terms with much of the night life of Freedom City. Her most feared enemies are the remnants of Project ICE (or indeed the KGB), who might well wish to appropriate the SLAVE system, or perhaps even her. Who knows what psychological hold the Sleeper has over her, or what subroutines lay dormant in SLAVE? Her relationship with many UN / Government agencies such as AEGIS is also strained and stained with Paranoia. She is, after all, a rogue spy on the run. Headquarters: The Safe House In Greenbank, amidst crumbling and abandoned brick buildings and rusted rail lines, lies a Mothballed building called “Grin and Bear it”. The ownership of this building is hidden in a complex web of many layers. Nobody seems able to buy it or redevelop it. Because underneath lies a Project ICE safe house, almost impossible to find. The cold, Spartan underground fortress is fully equipped as a base for spies. Whilst a few touches (rugs, house plants, photographs) have been introduced, it is still a rather grim place, reminiscent of old communist Russia. The Safehouse monitors communications and has its own computer system, and a fully equipped infirmary, workshop, and library, as well space to store air and ground vehicles (of the smaller type). It has a kitchen, bathroom, and living quarters, even a gym. One could live down there, although one would probably not choose to. It was designed for function, not comfort. Timeline …
  22. CRAFTED BY HGM Spending 1 PP on Lord Steam to add Inventor Feat please (Always meant to have it, just screwed up when submitting the rebuild!)
  23. Using the Cantos cane as a crutch (despite its infusion of power most infernal, it was rather handy for her in this regard), Pitch struggled forward, feeling rather battered, feeling rather blue. "Billy! Wait! Don't run!" she called out, expelling smoke and ash from her lungs. Still, exertion had diminished her volume. "The mutt is under my, err...spell!" she explained. She had no time to debate complex arcane matters with Billy, particularly as she was hardly well versed in them herself. "Good boy!" she yelled, needlessly, but hopefully as some reassurance. Quite how long the mutt would remain under her control was another matter, of course. It hardly looked like the strongest of beasts, but she would not be counting on its obedience. And now, the cave was calling. "Billy, whatever you do, don't go into that cave. I can feel something pulling. And a cave on this island, swarming with demons, is going to be bad business!" she ordered him. She hoped he would obey, but like the mutt, she could not count on it...
  24. GM "I keep my eyes open. As you do, I am sure" she replied, turning her attention back to Amir. "Don't ask me to explain what is going on with the world of finance. I just like to watch people. Interesting people..." She paused. "And frankly when it comes to bankers and computer programmers, interesting people are in short supply..." She turned her head back to Dwayne and his sister. "Him, for instance, I'm not sure if he is a fool, a lunatic, or a genius, or all three. I guess today this hotel has plenty of them all. As long as they are wealthy..." she sighed, a little cynically. Her eyes turned to the guards, all sunglasses, suits, and bulges at the armpit. "And of course, where there is wealth, there is violence" she said, whimsically, pointing at the impassive men. "And with you, that is all the more true, is it not? Are you ready to take to the skies or punch out a terrorist? Or will you be dining, wining, and dancing the night away instead? Either would be..." "...." "interesting!" she finished with a smile.
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