Supercape
-
Posts
21,085 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
Gallery
Events
Everything posted by Supercape
-
GM Sveta licked her whiskey past her lips and into her mouth. She gently tipped the glass and tapped it without spilling a drop. "There is a very dangerous man, on a very dangerous island. A Duke, no less. Or at least, he used to be one. He has his own private island and has made every effort that nobody lands on that island. So far, so eccentric genius. But that's the problem, he is a genius, and an expert on biotechnology. And his island is full of laboratories. And his laboratories are full of very suspect things" She took a small datastick out of her tight red pocket on her tight red flares. "Here, lists of deliveries, purchases, mercantile shipping, and even some chartered helicopter deliveries. I don't know if you no much about cytotoxic metagenics, or the Darwin-X virus, but I can tell you this guy does, and I can tell you I don't like this guy" she said, her velvet tones determined.
-
GM They did not need wait, for the Woman walked towards them, hips swaying, platforms sliding, and eyes locked. "Hello handsome" she purred at Bonfire, without obviously purring. "You look hot" she said, winking without batting an eye. She put a hand on the hit, and the other hand swiped a whiskey from the bar, placed a moment before by Gripper. It was cool and coordinated. Keeping her eyes inclined on Bonfire, she spoke to Torpedo Lass. "Thanks for coming dear. You look swell" she added. "My name is Svetlana" she said. Her English was impeccable, her accent firm but without location. She could well have been Russian. A Russian with perfect English. "The less you know about me, the better" she explained. "But you should know that I know lots of things. Not everything, but lots of things. That's my job. Finding out things that people don't want found out. And sometimes, what I find out is dangerous" she said, making dangerous sound exciting if not downright sexy. "And sometimes the dangerous things I find out are verrry dangerous" she said, rolling her "r"s on her red lips. "And when that happens, I need people who breathe danger..." she said, looking at them both.
-
GM The bartender had an eyepatch and not a hair on his head. He was dark of skin and dark of mood. Gold teeth glinted in the dark when he grinned, which seemed to be a grin of mirth and malice at the same time. The bartender was called gripper. He seemed to grip the bottles too tightly. One could imagine he was thinking of a neck when he did so. He probably gripped necks too tightly as well. Or, depending on your perspective, he gripped them tightly enough. "Satan's Wind, coming up, Ginger boy" he replied to Bonfire, tossing him a mad concoction of ghastly flavours that somehow induced a masochistic pleasure on the tongue. And might possibly set your tongue alight. It was red and purple, and had a blue flame on top. The Red Lady gave smoky eyes at the pair, slinking a pose that was serpentine and seductive, a moment in the air of engimatic looks....
-
Also, please note I GM a little different from standard here; please feel free to throw in any ideas - of any sort - at any time, here. I don't have a fixed plan for what will happen, so if you suddenly feeling saying an NPC is stroking your pet cat, please suggest it (here first preferably!)
-
good for me, please narrate that however you feel is cool and I will improv around it! (And same for you Olopi! )
-
Whats the bet they don't speak speak English? thought Starshot to himself. He didn't raise trigger to them, but he did thumb on the power to the gun. "Attention! Aliens to Kill!" shouted Trigger gleefully as it sparked into life. Wincing inside, Starshot ruefully noted that this would at least answer his question. He raised his other hands peacefully, hissing to Soreen to keep her blaster down. The aliens had only clubs and spears, but he well knew how dangerous they could be in skilled and strong hands. Or indeed tentacles. He made no sound, just kept his hand up, and his eyes peeled. His Helmet zoomed in the vision, scanning in detail the octopi and their mounts...
-
Thanks Guys, I will do my best. Please narrate however you want to enter the Bum Note. It may not even need to be explained right now. The only thing is the mysterious red dressed lady is on the lookout for you both and your secret ID is as secret as you want to be (to a SPY of great SPYDOM!) Have you receieved strange e mails? Did your last arrest blabber something about the Bum Note? Are you a friend of Horny Jack? Did the mysterious stranger press an envelope into your hand after your last public appearance? Etc Etc.
-
GM 16th April 2016 Freedom City The Bum Note Jazz Club. The Bum Note Jazz club was cheap and smoky. The wood was stained from booze, cigars, and stains of a less clear, and probably unsavoury nature. But wood it had, and charm too. And slow, drunken, low Jazz, full of brass and thick bass strings, peppered with snappy off beat snares and smooth strange time signatures. Horny Dick was smoking and tapping his hand to the peculiar and slick Jazz trio on stage. Horny Dick had been a top trumpet player and dirty rotten scoundrel back in the 70s. Today, Horny Dick had a busted lip, a Jazz Club that usually broke even, and was a dirty rotten scoundrel. The Bum Note played on. It had a few criminals. A few politicians. There was probably even a few people who were not both. And today, it had a dark haired lady in a red cut off top that was far too small, and red flared trousers that were far too flared, and red platforms that were just about right. Her smoking eyes swam from right to left, and left to right. For today, two superheroes would enter the Bum Note.
-
Starshot was feeling the pressure. Marching for so long was difficult, especially with the sand. The endless sand. He took his boots off and poured sand out of each. It was not a good smell. He checked on Laarks wounds, rebinding them. The Medkit was running low on supplies, but what the hell. Get out of the Desert alive first, he reasoned. He could only hope that this would be the worst of it. He suspected it would not. One thing for sure, he was starting to really dislike sand.
-
"I always hate bumps" complained Carmen. "I mean, those so - called Speed Bumps are a joke. If anything, they make you go slower..." she complained. In answer to his question, she considered a while. "Honestly, I don't think an answer is a good idea. Possibly even dangerous. You think one thing, and its probably what they want you to think. And even if it isn't, it probably isn't the truth. Or only half the truth. Its like an onion. You peel back one layer. You just get another...." "Best to keep an open mind and a clenched fist..."
-
Spy Island, featuring a Spy Headquarters on a Spy Island and lots of spies. And spying. And spying spies who spy. And Torepdo Lass and Bonfire Before we start, roll call for Torpedo Lass and Bonfire. that is, 1-2 sentence answer (preferably 1) too: 1) What would you like to explore with your character narratively / development / personality wise? 2) Where would you like to go with your character? 3) What would be a good internal conflict for your character? Any other thoughts feel free. I have core idea but I GM around PCs!
-
The sands shifted and scratched, and hid horrors. Starshot did not name what lay beneath, perhaps because they had no name. Whilst a raised fist and a wide circling of their course was prudent, he did not judge it wise to describe the anatomy of the earth. whilst the first beast had been dangerous, he was shore that the massive fifteen foot worm he saw was more so, and a description would demoralise. These sandworms certainly and spice to the sands...he mused to himself. Reshouldering trigger and ignoring the sweat collecting around his helm's neck, he pressed on, doing his best to keep focus...
-
Doctor Warp squinted, and looked behind him, at the chunk of pavement that had been blasted out by the lightning bolt. "That's a public hazard!" he declared, spinning on a heel. His arm stretched out, or rather, the universe contracted around his arm, and he had the chunk of pavement in his hand. His grip was like a vice, crunching into the concrete. "You'll swing for that! We can't have just anyone throwing arcs of lightning..." he said, grumpily. He did a little motion with his other hand, demonstrating the mechanics of a pendulum. Up and over when his arm, several dozen feet in an arc overhead. Crunch! His arm landed a foot away from the Lightning thugs feet, the pavement he had gripped exploding into dust and chips which covered the lightning man. Whilst it might induce a cough and ruin the cut of ones suit, that was all. "Your head's too small!" complained Doctor Warp. "Tiny target area!" He gave a wink at Eternal Dragon and Bonfire. "Don't them him in the head! No vital organs!" he said, indicating the three thugs in various states of consciousness.
-
Mainly for effect, stretching out to grab that piece of masonry, then swinging overhead to smash it on the Lightning Thugs head! Masonry on Lighting Thugs Head: 1d20+10 13 I am sure is a miss, but ill post something cool!
-
Starshot was getting worried about water. And heat. And sand. But mainly, worried about water. "Let's go then. There was an oasis of sorts, still far, but our best. It will take us a day or two to get there. Don't give up. We can make it" he said, determined. He was not sure if they could. But they would damn well try. If they did not get attacked again, then the odds were good. If they did, the odds were not good. This time, he kept his helm clicked on. The sweat would be uncomfortable and raw, but he needed to grit his teeth. They could not get ambushed again. Kicking sand with his boots, they pressed on...
-
Starshot contemplated shooting down the birds - maybe they had water. But it was a wild speculation; he had no idea about the biology of the creatures. It would be protein cakes and water until they could determine otherwise. "Good work...lets hope we don't need them..." he said to Soreen, in a satisfied tone. Even if they didn't meet a sand shark again, what with evolution there was, by his estimation a reasonable chance that other life forms would navigate by their nose as opposed to their eyes. The two precious grenades might give them an edge. He sat down under the shade, waiting for nightfall, and tending to Laarks wounds. Water had to be consumed, in moderation. Too little, they would dehydrate and be too weak to walk. Too much, and they would die later. Even judicious consumption would not necessarily save them.
-
Ok its craft structural time for a shelter with Laark: I doubt that is too difficult so taking 10 should do it? Then, seeing if he can modify the last two smoke grenades with Soreen. To try and make the grenades obscure olfactory only - or at least to make them partial obscure to visual and full obscure to olfactory. I don't know if Soreen has craft chemical skill. But between Soreen and Starshot try to give it a go. Feel free to roll for Starshot for Skill (Chemistry), either as aiding Soreen or on his own. Starshot has Jack of All Trades so can do the above at a +2 bonus, plus his cybernetic hand has the improvised tool feat to help with crafts!
-
"Stuck on a rock" cursed a bitter and frustrated Starshot. He scanned, fruitlessly, the horizon. "There is no road out of here that is not perilous. Nor is staying here safe" he concluded. "There is nothing for it, we are damned however we turn". He looked up at the glaring blue sun, his visor dimming with the flare. "Lets wait till nightfall then. Build a shelter. Hope for rain...and I'll take a look at my smoke grenades..." He had only two more smoke grenades left, but it did occur to him that they might be modified, to thin the smoke but keep the stench.
-
"Lightning?" retorted Dr Warp. "It could have killed me!" he explained. "Honestly, the hypocrisy! That car was barely travelling at 50 miles per hour! Lightning is much faster. Why, I do believe it travels...at the speed of light!" he mocked, doing a little tap dance and explaining velocity with his hands.
-
With a peculiar twang to the spatial dimensions, an arm appeared. Then another. The curious thing about the arms was they were both a hundred feet long, and just about two feet long. At the same time. Another twang, and they contracted, bringing with them a cannonball attached to the other end. This cannonball may have weighed a ton, but he was actually a man, to whom those strange arms belonged. "Its warp time!" declared the man, who was surely the most ridiculous looking superhero of all time. Not five feet tall, except for arguably his girth, and possessed of a sarcastic slapped face that was devoid of any square jaw or chiselled cheekbones. His jowls rumbled magnificently, however. Doctor Warp had arrived. He gave a curt, ungainly bow to Bonfire and Eternal Dragon, and a little mock salute. "Sorry for the speeding car, officers! Don't give me a ticket!" he chuckled, clapping his hands excitedly.
-
Taking 10 (Skill Mastery) on medicine for a 16 result. Mainly diagnosis (DC 10), but I suppose starting off some care for a bonus to his recovery rolls, although I doubt he will be making any soon!
-
"Damn in hell!" cursed Starshot as he cursed both the smoking beast and the wounds of Laark. He was half tempted to turn back, but that would put them all in danger. One thing for certain, they could not risk another attack from a burrowing horror. He unclipped his first aid kit and took a look at Laarks wounds, gently undressing the huge alien. "I will not lie, my friend, this looks bad. But we cannot risk going back. We have to get you to those crystal mountains, and hope that we are not attacked again. Given time and rest, you will live. But the sands will kill us all..." he explained grimly, giving Laark a shot of Omnivax.
-
Fire or ice? ...I feel a song coming on... Let's go for fire
-
Mind if I resolve hit/miss and, if appropriatrate, knockback distance and target before posting ic ? Alternatively you could post effect and I'll post follow up entrance? I just had in mind his grand entrance I a car sailing through the air, then cut to the man
-
Would it be appropriate to enter by throwing a car or something at a thug?