Supercape

"Hey I can see!" said the Mess, as Nick illuminated the place, and he found himself in the chamber of horrors, fists swinging this way and that. "Awesome. Now then..." He cracked his muscles, his muscles swelling and bulging with turbo charged blood. The haemoglobin was practically sweating out of him. There was blood, and there was his blood. Blood squared. Blood cubed. He wound up his fist to let crack at the nearest vampire-thing, and, whilst his force was to be commended - a brutal uppercut that would have knocked the head of a marble statue, his execution was too slow, his ambition to great. "Man, sloppy" he grunted to himself.

He swings 1d20+10=11 He misses.

"Thats a lot of blood" commented both Harry and Freddy at the same time. Indeed it was. "How did the stiff...I mean the deceased, die?" said the Hound to Jerry, licking his thumb and bringing out the archetypal low tech information device. A pen and a notepad. "I mean, it is a lot of blood, 'scuse me for saying so, sir" he said, all apologies. "But what happened? A bullet? A chainsaw?" he asked, dancing his feet in and out of the pit he was digging himself.

Pitch paused, waiting, and listening to the sounds of fire and wings outside. Can't say I would ever have guessed I would do this... "Cunning is a double edged sword, bird. And much as I would like to flee..." She actually gulped the words... "...I can't leave her out there...with that..." she thumbed out of the old Church at the sounds of demons. She nodded to Axel and Rachael. "You guys, go" she said, both kindly and snappy, to them both. She didn't expect either of them to like fleeing either. She knew she didn't.

1d20+10=29, 1d20+10=24 Mess is rocking. I suppose the thugs clubs are bludgeoning damage? (To which he has limited immunity) - in any case, made them both! Except, whoops, he has a bruise already so I guess it was 28 and 23, still enough. Except, whoops again, there was a third club! 1d20+9=26 done.

Right lets have some initiative rolls: This is not a major threat...but... 1d20=2 Captain Singh 1d20=13 Cultists There are five Thugee cultists (M&M Core Book PL 2) The Priest of Kali is a Minor Mystic from BoM p85 At present, all but the priest are in partial concealment due to the smoke and incense.

Also, with Foreshadows DEX that above manuever is fine for me, HGM. So, Synapse is up!

Sure: they were all pretty beat up though (the Jeep was just as bad). Still, that high Craft skill should come in for handy. How about removing the drive penalty? If you, want, narrated at some point as her making some swift ad hoc adjustment?

Round 1 15 Geckoman - 3 HP - Exhausted 7 Tonic - Staggered I may throw in more HP if the mood turns nasty / obstructive!

"Errr...." answered the Cop, vaguely tapping at his empty holster, vaguely looking at Geckoman, and looking rather spun. "Yes...Geckoman..I mean...Sir... I mean...errr...." he bumbled over his words, as Flashlights and Cellphones clicked over him and Geckoman. He shot down an Ambulance! Did you see? He wrecked the hospital! There might have been kids in there... The mood hung in balance, like a spinning plate that would eventually fall, and shatter. And from the mumble - and admittedly, without full facts, deservedly so - was turning ugly to Geckoman's ears. "Medical attention, yeah, er..." said the Cop, looking at the hole in the hospital. "That might be a little hard to get right now, Sir...um...Geckoman...given what you...err...just did..." he spluttered, before losing nerve and running to help the seizing Policeman.

GM Bang! Bang! The front tyres of the Ambulance blew out, shredded by Geckoman's bullets. The Green Hero just caught the site of Tonics bruised and battered face, teeth gripped in a furious grin, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight it bent, as he sailed past him, the Ambulance tumbling and tumbling, glass smashing, metal crunching and denting, in a full on roll. Three...four...five...six! times it flipped and rolled, before crashing into the Hospital itself, masonry and glass exploding, the Ambulance sliding several feet into the hospital proper as bricks and mortar and dust fell on it. "That's my gun, Sir..." said the slack jawed Police Officer, eyes like saucers, as he witnessed the carnage his firearm had caused. He looked as shocked and stunned as the large audience. "Geckoman shot an ambulance!" cried one outraged cameraman from the gathering reporters, capturing, and admittedly accurately, the situation in four words.

Lets have some initiative rolls at this point: 1d20+1=7 for the T.

So for reference: Geckoman - 3 HP - Exhausted Driving an Ambulance with shot out wheels? DC 15 to stop crashing, DC 20 to drive at all, DC 25 to steer too! But his Drive skill is only +1! 1d20+1=6 Kaboom, the Ambulance makes a dramatic tumbling Roll straight into the hospital. Tonis takes an arbitary DC 25 Toughness Effect from the magnificent crash. 1d20+12=29 which he makes Dr Tonic - Staggered

GM "Fast! Faster than a galloping horse!" gasped "Wayward" as the Limo was lifted above Triasoka. "Whereforth though Strength? What Sorcery!" she snarled, composing herself. "No matter! No matter for me! You may be able to lift the horseless chariot! You might even bound towers in a single leap, or fly like a bird! You are no match for me! Non!" she said defiantly, spitting French at the end. The chaos around her was only magnifying. Even "Wayward" was getting jostled, elbowed. Screams and babbling rumbled through the air. People ran out, crying, shouting, laughing, all hysterical. Up above her, Dancia saw a man giggling with fear, flapping his arms, and leaping into the air...and start to plummet to the earth. And in the crowd, 'Wayward' was lost in the heaving throng, as Triasoka watched the man on the building start to fall...

Ok...so...erm...shooting out tires...um...yes...I am sure there are good rules for that. But lets go with some on the fly rules! So lets say its a base defence of 10. Tires are probably Size Tiny (1-2 feet tall?). Also moving so I will throw in +2 Defence for that. Shall we say a net Defence of 14 (IE DC 14 to hit with ranged). As for damage, lets say any hit will blow out a tyre (or two, depending on your narration. Both will have the same effect).

GM Even in unfamiliar terrain, tired, and hungry, Bloodlines undead limbs were faster and stronger than the hunters. Daybreak gave chase, faster than his minions, but despite his speed fuelled by moral certainty and righteousness, he could not come close. Bloodline was faster than any man alive by a long shot, and did not tire. The tunnels sped past, left, right, damp, with varying degrees of foul ordor. It was easy to get lost, and that was exactly what happened. As he stopped, Bloodline took stock of the small, dusty, dirty and damp tunnel he was in. This was deep in the bowels of Freedom City, alive with rumours of various creepy crawlies, ghouls, and worse. Perhaps even some of the rumours were true. In front of him, staring at him with black eyes, was Filth's Rat. "Need a way out?" it squeaked in a dead voice.

No worries! So for all out movement there is an absence of rules for how long you can go. Throwing it about chat, I think everyone sort of thought "Forever" for how long you can run all out! Benefits of undead legs! With the sewers, you can easily outpace the hunters with Speed 2. Lets drop out of combat for a bit. Although I suspect he is getting hungry!

"Nocturne. Never heard of him. Or her" replied Rene stiffly. "I do not believe in authority. Especially not here. Liberty! Liberty! Liberty! If not in the world of dreams, of stories, of imagination, then where? Non! Nobody has any right to impose their will on others. Not anywhere. But most of all here!" he said. Something about it made him furious. And when Rene got furious, as opposed to just passionate, his voice became as cold and firm as tumbling gravestones. His eyes were full of cold crystal ice. "Every chain Nocturne weaves, know that I will break. Every prison she builds, I will crush" he said defiantly. "And that includes you, whatever you are!"

"Sending out the troops?" replied Starshot, biting his lip. He never liked generals that lead from behind a wall of cannon fodder. Still, the man was paying, and he was, at least so far, no trouble. The Xeno landed without incident on Nocturis starport, and Starshot put on Mask, around his neck, who spat out a few warnings about every danger under every sun. He slung Trigger, his gun, around his back, who spat out a few excited comments about getting to shoot. Fingers, his cybernetic hand, merely commented: "What are we buying? Is it shiny?" a question that he asked himself. "Who is the contact? Barus leading the way?" he asked the General, and, he supposed, Barus, as he flipped the airlock, and with Ana stepped into the Nocturnis air...

GM The lights of the Van could make out the riders now. Dust around them, glints in the eyes. They were dressed, appropriately enough, in crocodile skins, although paired with flowing sandy silks. The camels they rode were well trained, and fast, making good headway along the road, and no doubt would be equally mobile in the desert. Foreshadow could even sense the future - vaguely - the Crocodile cultists riding to the Van, firing submachine guns and cracking, scratching, cutting the Van with curved sabres. Shouting the name of the Crocodile King as they did so, and sparing neither steel nor bullet in their assault. "The Crocodile King?" said Zaki, hearing the faint cries in the wind. "Never heard of him..."

We have six Crocodile Cultists, who are fanatical minions, PL 6. They are all riding Camels (for which we shall essentially use the horse archetype, although they are obviously much more cool) 1d20+1=8 I don't know who is driving - Foreshadow? In any case, you have the standard Van equipment (Core Book) with -2 to its toughness and your driving rolls because it is a piece of trash. We shall start this out at a distance of 200', again in low light conditions, with the Camels and Van heading towards collision! You are on a dusty track, essentially desert on either side, although the Nile would be not too far to your right. Zaki has a nominal initiative of 10, but will essentially be a bystander (or be attacked) Round 1: 29 Foreshadow - 1 HP - Unharmed 15 Synapse - 2 HP - Unharmed 8 Croc Cultists [6]

So its up for postage and idea s to you guys - otherwise I will cut to the bridge of the Walker.

GM Captain Sparrow must have lowered and raised his weapon at least twice as he contemplated the assorted wisdom thrown at him. However sensible Tsunami was, she was a teen. Myrmidon, however, was, in his mind, a solider, and worthy of attention. "We do seem to have an...unknown...adversary" he conceded. "Which changes the mission parameters. But we still have to secure this vessel, no matter what is in it" he explained. "We can start with those fish men" he said, undiplomatically referring to the Atlanteans. "Lock em into the Pressure Hatch. Best we got, I agree. But then we need to go the bridge of this vessel. See if we can find out what is going on" he decided, putting down his assault rifle and flicking the safety on.

I think lets just go for a straight yank given Geckomans generally awesome DEX. If you want to do it without the policeman noticing, then I would go for a SoH roll, lets say DC 15 to keep it straightforward.

"Ouch! Ouch! Gedoffme!" shrugged the Mess, his back scratched and bleeding, being battered left right and everywhere. Just because his body was built like a pile of bricks didn't mean it didn't smart. Still he was used to a beating. He could take it. On the other hand... "Oh man, this is voodoo!" he gulped, as the Robed figure summoned up another horror. "And bad Voodoo!" he added, a slight shudder rippling across his wide shoulders. Against a fighter, like that Catwoman, he would have come at him with fists. That didn't seem to work, and the guy was summoning an army of spectres his fists would not fight. So, time to pull out the stops. Frowning with concentration, he started to thin the Guys blood. Forcing the red blood cells to slow and deoxygenate. Not stop them working completely, but make him fight for breath, and sap him of energy.