Supercape

Lord Steam Tokyo Takedown Lord Lucien Lockwood had been to Japan before. He had been to Tokyo before. But that was a different Japan, and a different Tokyo. In Earth Victoriana, Tokyo was an exotic trading city of the orient, with the Spaniards, Dutch, and French all vying for its favour in equal measure. The Spanish, in the grip of the Vatican, had tried too, but Japan was not fond of its missionaries and priests. It was an independent land of some measure, playing catch up with the Steam powered industrialisation of Europe, and playing catch up successfully. He had visited Tokyo in his home dimension, and found it just as exotic as its reputation. He had savoured and enjoyed Sumo wrestling, Noh theatre, and a delightfully varied and crisp cuisine. After an rather embarrassing and best forgotten summer post matriculation, he had spent just short of a year there. He had learned the language and even studied under a Jujitsu tutor, an experience he took back to London where the derivative art of Bartitsu was blossoming. He had a fancy to go back. Disinclined to take Cressida, his Zepplin, he took a first class ticket to Tokyo via Jet. Cressida would not doubt be more luxurious, and have a better range of tea, but it would have taken a considerable time longer, and his time was precious. Tokyo was electric. Literally as well as metaphorically. Of course, he was used to the amber roses of electric lighting from his time in Freedom City. Almost second nature now. But somehow, Tokyo seemed even more illuminated, with crisps letters and colours all around. It was crowded too – beyond London or Freedom City. He was a tall man, and stood a head above most there, which he felt granted him a degree of buffer from any claustrophobia. The memories of his time in Tokyo, several years and one dimension away, engulfed him. Whilst he took in a few sights, and ate in the most famous restaurants, he found himself inquiring about the dojos of the Jujitsu teachers there. He could have chosen a number of reputable, famous, or even not so reputable and famous institutions. But the one he wound up in was clean, austere and beautiful. Run by a Mr. Tanuka, a short and grey haired man with the body of a whipping snake. Lord Lockwood made a few introductions and courtesies. His Japanese was near enough fluent, and whilst he had an accent, clearly his mastery of the complexities of the language put him in good stead. He took some Japanese Tea – a blend that again brought back pleasant and exciting memories, a tea which would never replace his own fair English variety, but still was a pleasant one, and watched Mr. Tanuku instructing a small class. He studied them carefully, watching the careful practicing of moves, drilling again and again until it was a reflex. Then the sparring of students, with his eye noting the shifting of feet and weight, the trapping of arms, slapping, gripping hands, the formation of circular movements. He could only conclude that Mr. Tanuku was a master, and that the art of Jujitsu was more subtle and effective than in his home dimension. He could hardly say that he was an expert in Jujitsu, but he was more than a novice and considered himself a master of the English derivative, Bartitsu, a fusion of western and eastern styles. There was no point in resisting. He would have to take a class from Mr. Tanuku himself once the class had finished. And, with a little diplomacy and flattery, that was what he did. It started with discussion and instruction. The application of chokeholds, the effective kata to know, the tactics, always the tactics. Mr. Tanuku applied his knowledge as if he was playing a board game, the subtleties of Go applied to the physical forms of his martial art. Lord Lockwood was most impressed. But of course, he had to do it. He had to spar with Mr. Tanuku. There was a little reluctance, of course. Mr. Tanuku had recognised he was not instructing a novice. But still, he was an Englishman, and a guest. It would not be fair to say the fight was over fast. There was an initial movement, like the opening of a chess board, when prods were made rather than attacks. A way of sizing up the strengths and weaknesses of opponent. Lord Steam was stronger than he looked, and so was Mr. Tanuku, but still Lord Steam had size, youth and strength to his advantage. He was arguably even the faster of the two. He was able to strike and block with the slight edge in speed. And yet he could not quite throw his opponent, who somehow twisted. He could not quite hold his opponent, who turned. And whilst he could parry Mr. Tanuku’s own attacks, there was something of a frustration about his own. There were punches and kicks and elbows that both men received and both men delivered. Blows that were pulled for sparring. But then, Mr. Tanuku’s form fell together like a jigsaw. He had been studying and probing Lord Steam, and now he put together a deceptive ploy, an invisible tactic, a hand here, a foot there, a slide, an imperceptible shift of weight, a strike here, paralysing, a sweep there, and in a tornado of circular motion, an end. Lord Lockwood opened his eyes. He could not even remember the last few seconds, but the lesson was learnt. A master of an art was a master for a reason. He was a good, able student. An expert even. But a true master, of years of study and iron devotion. Now, a true master could show him exactly how wide the gulf between expert and master was. “Mr. Tanuku Sir…†he said in Japanese, from the floor. “My hat to you, Sir. I consider it quite the honor to learn from your Tokyo Takedown!†“Very Good Sir†sighed Blakely, his Butler, his face a mask of non-judgement, offering Lord Lockwood his coat and a hand up.

"I think you will find I can, mister" replied the Red Rat taking a step back. The Ponytailed guy was no faster than his unconscious friend, and probably no stronger or iron of jaw. He would be easy enough to fight - but that wasn't the issue... Slave dutifully reported the time, flashing down the seconds in front of her cybernetic eyes. This was going to be close. Too close. She should have got here earlier. Already Slave was scanning the room, the windows, the view, to see if there was any sign of a sniper. But it might not be a sniper. It could be poison in the pool, or from the air vents. Maybe even Ponytail himself, manipulated or coerced into an assassination of the man he was protecting. Or the ponytailed guard could even be her fare in disguise. If so, she told herself, it was the best disguise in the world. She came forward again, lifting her knee and extending her foot into the ponytailed mans jaw...

So Red is going to kick the other guy, another take 10 and shifted attack for a DC 20 Toughness Save.

Analysis: Size and mass increase of humanoid female, which I am sure your superior mind has already grasped faster than I could ever hope to! Correct again! Your primitive silicon hard wiring has grasped the concept of my cognitive faculties! The Evolved Rat took a nanosecond to be smug. The cube...it must be the cube. Someone was after it, perhaps some power source? Was it the source of the dimensional lensing? Would it filter or compress cosmic energy? Surely some cosmic device. A cosmic cube! And clearly the larger woman was intent on its theft. The giantess could also crush the...alien...? in her hand. The Evolved Rat looked at the gun in her hand. An effective, top quality silenced pistol. She had an awful feeling it would be little more than a pea shooter against the Giantess. The Rat was an expert shot. But hitting such a massive target was easy....

Rene frowned at the invasion. "Zut Alors! Is a man's mind not his castle?" he asked her. "Non! Do not answer. If you borrow ze eyes of another, be sure to knock first" he said. He had an instinct to close his eyes in defiance, but then decided to defy his urge to defiance by keeping them open. "Are you aware of ze predator of ze dreams? Something is plaguing ze city, a creature that feeds on ze despair of ze city. I fear ze modern zeitgeist is ze meat and ze cheese on which it has grown!" he said, stroking his goatee. "What this City needs is hope! Hope for ze men and women! Ze heroes in capes and masks are not inspiration but inferiority. How can we inspire ze gestalt, hmmm? Shakespeare? How noble in deed?" "Anyway, I ramble, vexed by ze horror I have seen. What brings you wandering into ze dreamlands? A most welcome wandering too, I say!"

"Caution can kiss my sweet behind" laughed the Mess heartily. And loudly. If Stealth had been on the menu, the Mess would have made a...well, a mess of it. "What wuz ya saying anyway?" he said, stopping to scratch his ear and contemplate the situation. He wasn't none to good at contemplating. "I ain't so good at Contemplatating" he said, sticking his jaw out defiantly. "I ain't stoopid, though. If you gots a plan, I'll hear it" he said, impatiently cracking the knuckles of his left hand and his right hand. And then his left hand again. "I reckon you and me, we go bargin' in, and kick some ass, and bang some heads! If that ain't a plan, I dunno what is! See, I got some brains!" he said, thwacking the side of his head in anticipation.

Red Rat using Datalink and penetrating any security to look at files. So x10 speed task and 1d20+15=32 on computers roll.

Red Rat "That doesn't sound good" sad the Rat to Revenant, cocking her ear. "Violence is golden. But also imminent!" "I guess you can handle yourself in a fight?" she asked her differently alive partner. The pale pugilist was looking less spooky and more beautiful by night. And from what she understood, she had the strength of twenty men. Twenty dead zombie men who each had the strength of twenty living ones. In other words, she could snap the Rat in two if she wanted! "Can you check out the men about to tear each other s head off? I got a date with a computer..." With that climbed through the basement window, up to the computer, and turned it on. It looked pretty ancient, but even old files could be interesting. As it fired up, she activated the SLAVE system in her head, connecting directly to the old computer and starting to slide through the files...

So DC 21 Toughness save and you are up!

GM Silberman's Book Store It was not much different to how Velocity had left it. Staff were milling around. Books were being looked at. Books were being perused. And the Duke sat in a comfortable chair in a tweed Jacket, tweed cap, and brown shoes, happily ruffling through an obscure compendium on the Cuisine of the Ottoman Empire. He could not have looked more at home unless he wore slippers and smoked a pipe. He probably would have done the latter if it was permitted. At his feet, a battered leather suitcase of suspicious size and form. Velocities entrance was announced with a gentle gust of air that flipped over a page in his book, halfway through his visual digestion of spiced goat surprise. "Goodness, that was fast!" he said, as Surprised as the goat, but managing a friendly smile still.

Cool. He is not exactly hiding so we can say you run and find him in one move action. As you will automatically win initiative, you will also have a standard action. Lets split this up with an IC post from you processing what the Duke and Grim said, followed by a run. Then Ill post the scene at Silberman's. Then back to your standard action.

Oops! I forgot about horse. Im just going to say the horse runs! Edit made!

One thing - I believe if they are mooks / minions, any PC attack can automatically inflict the highest effect (namely unconsciousness!)

Sure I will throw Starshot in.

GM The sound was a sonic attack on ear and spirit. Whilst the horse could not stand it, and bolted into the woods, The Huntsman dropped his gun and clutched his ears, shaking his head until the long wail finished. "The howl of a beast! Of an apex predator! The howl of a hunter that knows not fear, nor foe, only flesh and blood and sweet marrow betwixt its jaws! Yes! I have had heard many such howls, but none so full of life and dread!" he said, reaching down to pick up his elephant gun. "I was born in the blood rich earth of Africa, beast. If you only knew quite how much you meant to me! Your life is so so precious...and I must have it! Nothing will deny me it, now I have felt its warmth!" And with that he fired at Skaere once more...

1d20+8=23 Which, unfortunately, he makes with a good roll. Ill say he drops his gun to cover his ears, though. Although he has a chance to pick it up as a move action, and fire on his turn! 1d20+10=18 which does Clip Skaere. Its a DC 21 Toughness Save (Like a nasty old shotgun!)

So there is not a massive amount to do at this point, let me know if you guys want a scene cut to the spooky interior... Yes, it does feel a bit like the Abyss, I know!

I believe not! Red Rat doesnt have the best defence in the world (it will improve!) but at the moment its +8 (or 18). In response, take 10 for another similar attack, another DC 21 Toughness save.

GM "Ah! Hello!" said the Crackling voice of the Duke down the Telephone. It was not the best of lines. And there was a lag delay of a second or two. "Velocity isn't it? How are you liking my little Cellar? I suppose the game is up by now? Has that pretty little pixie told you everything? My she is a vexing thing, is she not? If she was not so delightful I would be quite quite Irate with her hahaha!" he chuckled. "Now, I think you are doing most splendidly charging up my machines. Yes indeed. Very helpful. I think I feel quite normal again. But I confess, your little display of speed is so intoxicating, I find myself wanting more. A little taste of your Velocity, so to speak. Ahaha!" "So if you would be good enough to just run around that Cellar at high speed, be a dear..." "Oh, and by the way, I am currently at Silberman's book store with a lethal gas device and will use it if you don't comply..."

Sigh. They must be getting a better class of hired muscle here. In my day, soldiers were as thick as two short planks....Not strictly true, but she had noticed the breed of soldier and military moving from barely contained brute to a trained professional. Which was probably a good thing. Except ex-military body guards and the sort where less likely to have soup between their ears. As Slave started punching out all sorts of tactical information on this, that, and the other, the Red Rat sprang into action. "So do I. So do I" she said, turning her body slightly. Quick like a fox, she clenched her fist and rammed it into Stubbles chest. "You guys are sure making a difficult job just that little bit harder. I'm on the clock..." she explained, as Slave flashed the time in front of her eyes.

1d20+8=18 Just edges it. So this wont be so pretty. Lets start with a straightforward Puncharooma on Stubbles: I will shift this attack -2 Attack +2 DC, on the basis that she needs to be fast and these guys are unlikely to be kung fu experts. If they are minions, taking 10 for a 20 Attack roll. If not, a 1d20+10=16 possible hit. Its DC 21 Toughness if it connects.

Surprise Round 18 Young Brittania 11 Synapse 7 Y Dderwen Lucy DIamond not acting for now. Which means YB is up!

GM Lucy Diamond did not stop sparkling, but it became muted and chaotic. Her eyes widened in fear. "<Young Brittania!>" He called, with familiarity and alarm. The air was still in sparkles for one moment, until Young Brittania heard the Oaken Man, Y Dderwem, above her. Y Dderwen was short and squat, like a hardy tree cut to size. His skin was gnarled brown, all wood, and his eyes pure black. His mouth, such as it was, was curled in an enigmatic grin, half smile, half wail. Whilst he had no visible tongue, his speech was like grinding wood, bending and splintering. "Leave her alone! She has suffered enough! I will not abide it! No!" he said, in a sing song voice with more than a hint of Welsh accent about it. He dropped to the floor, on one knee. In his hand, he held a wooden club. A shillelagh, probably. Whilst it was thick and stout, it was not dead. Green leaves curled from it, up and down the shaft.

GM "Of no consequence, Green Gecko!" said Tonic, clenching his teeth, and clenching his hand around Geckomans blood, shaking it in front of him. "This is the universe, this is everything! Every spirit, every planet, every atom, to me! My Daughter will not suffer as I have. This is my vow, my God! hahahaha!" he said, becoming cheerful once again. "Oh Guardian Jinn! Forces of God! Lend strength to my legs and breath to my lungs! I shall be fleet as a fox, silent as a panther!" And with that, he turned foot and sped off. His pace was beyond Olympian, equalling anything Geckoman could have done.

GM Fiating that. Nothing will stop him! Geckoman - 4 HP Tonic is moving all out. Now you both move the same speeds but he has the advantage of lungs. You are 2 All out moves from the Monorail Station by foot. Geckoman up again.