Supercape

"Sure thing, Mister" Any other taxi driver might have been intimidated. But Noemi was the Red Rat, dammit. Some huge guy like this, well, he was creepy, for sure. She was creeped out, for sure. But she wasn't going to back down, either. Some guy like this, huge, creepy, and cryptic. The Red Rat wanted to know what was going down with him. But Clam up for a bit?. That she could do. She turned up the Opera a little, as the man had requested, and drummed her finger on the steering wheel to the musical stabs. The city wandered past the Taxi as they approached North Bay. "Here we go, Mister. Anywhere in particular you want?" she asked, a little more stiffly than before. He had given her address, and she thought she knew the place. But....but he was a weird and vague one, like shifting sand. "Anywhere you want its good for me. You are my Last Fare of the Night...."

GM There was a smell of burning Aviation fuel, probably. But half the plane was strewn across a deep gorge in the landscape, marked by flattened trees. An explosion rocked the air. Cord was slumped in the cockpit, several dozen feet from Blue Jay. He was bleeding, and his leg really shouldn't be bent like that. She couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. If he was, it was pretty faint. The man looked white as a sheet. The Pilot, still wrapped up in Jays arrow, hung from a tree. He looked badly shaken up, but he was at least conscious and breathing. "I can! Get me down from here!" he said, weakly, swinging from a tattered branch. He had several severe abrasions, but he was alive. Gold was way off in the distance, still in his seat, which had departed from the rest of the plane. He was still unconscious from the powerful sedatives Cord had given him. At this distance, Blue Jay couldnt determine how badly injured he was, or even if was alive or not.

1d20+12=17 the Huntsmans attack roll. Which misses! You are up!

GM "I admire your loyalty, prey!" squarked the camera's overhead, distorted with a tinny sound from the small speakers. "You have taken the bait, this is good! And now, I come to reel you in! Your death shall be most invigorating, yes! A beast like yourself is worth a thousand noble tigers, or a thousand ferocious lions!" The man stepped out of the greenery for a second. He was tall, blonde, wearing a safari suit and what looked like an elephant gun. There was something antiquated about him - he looked like one of the great white hunters of Africa. A carefully waxed blonde moustache, tidy cravatte, and monocle on a chain. Bammm! A tree exploded by the side of Skaere, almost ripped in half. It creaked ominiously, and started to fall. For all Skaere's speed, the man had come close. He was an excellent shot.

Reporting for Superior Soviet Duty

Works! A male human with a gun, some faint traces of petrol

Good Q - I think your foe has cut you off! SMart ass!

Noemi's nostrils twitched for a second as she registered the smell. She recognised it. Much of her work had entailed spilling it. The work she would rather forget. Still memories haunt as well as soothe. She would have to forge some more of the latter to live with the former. "Work can take you far, that's true. Hell, I should know, huh? Rode a guy all the way cross country to Emerald City once. I was stiff as hell by the end of that, I can say. But you can't turn down that sort of money!" she lied. She wasn't bad at lying. Not bad at all. Especially when it was lie she wished was true. "What kinda work you in that takes you outta Freedom City?" she asked politely. She hoped it was "Butcher", and she really hoped it was the kind of butcher who prepared farm animals for food. Rather than the other type of Butcher. But she guessed the former didn't get out of Freedom CIty much. And the latter often did.

1d20+9=24 on form

Neomis face remained friendly and relaxed, nodding for a moment as she turned the radio up slightly. A pleasant crisp volume but not one to drown. She didn't say a word for a minute or two, relaxing through the night air of Freedom city and mulling her rides words. Any one mentioned Russia and her ears would prick up. Just reflex really. She didn't enjoy her Spy paranoia but it tickled her anyway. "So what do you do in North Bay?" She asked, making conversation through neon lights and hypnotic city. "Something to take you away on business? Or was it pleasure? Been away on holiday? You look like a wrestler or something. I don't think I have seen a bigger men in my car, that for sure!" She said making light conversation as the city rolled pass. At least at this time, even if they City never slept, it dozed. The traffic was a welcome ease.

EDIt after chat with Thev, she would rather keep Insubstantial up! So no probs, editted above post!

I gotta say I like this guy!

Cool awesome! Post away! Although with DC 30 a 24 result is just bruised, injured, stunned?

Even Lord Steam was puffing now. He could keep going, but he felt his lungs begin to complain and his skin begin to sweat. Pick up the Pace Lads...COME ON LOCKWOOD! PICK UP THE BLOODY PACE OR ILL TAN YOUR HIDE WITH MY BELT! The "Fond" recollection Master Poddlesmiths words and bubbling mouth were all he needed for the extra few inches of stride. The joys of Public School in England did, after all, come in handy. He slipped a hand in his pocket, and deftly brought out a tiny clockwork globe, no bigger than a thumbnail. With equal deftness he reached out and slipped it into the runners pocket. The effort mad him stumble, and fall to one knee, and the runner made several strides away. This was no matter to Lord Steam. He wanted to let the man run. As his target made haste away, Lord Steam brought out another contraption. A clockwork compass, with copper tubes and a hiss of steam. Pulling a dial and pressing a switch, the little thing started clicking away. "Got you my friend!" he smiled, as the compass needle pointed in the direction of the clockwork bug. Lord Steam started after the quarry once more, but a leisurely, and unseen, pace.

Ok, so first off, a Knowledge (technology) roll, DC 20 from you! Velocity- Unharmed - 3HP Grimalkin - Unharmed - 1 HP

GM One maid, a charming but short lady of middle age dropped to her knees, although she was very mindful of said knees in that they should not contact one of the myraid of power cables that snaked their way over the floor. "Please your grace! I mean ma'am! He never talked to himself! Though he was a secretive man, spending hours down here at a stretch!" she gulped. "We don't know why he drugged himself! We just got orders to serve the dinner, and then bring you down here! We just do what Mister Rutte tells us! He being the head butler, sir!" She said, at her wits end and tearing at her blond hair. She was not the only member of staff crying with fear in the cellars, either. A few machines blinked, ominously, and sparks began to fly from the wires, and from the central sarcophagus.

Necromme using a Power 12 Fear power on Dancia! DC 22 Will Save!

"Non! I would not!" said Valerie, rudely. Joe "Megastar" just shrugged and told Dancia to get out of the way too. "I must get to my carriage! Prepare the horses!" she shouted ahead at a rather confused aide and a rather confused Chauffeur. "Its...its cars these days, dude..." explained Joe Megastar... "Very well then, I must get to my car! out of the way, impertinent word peddler!" shouted Valerie, trying to barge past Dancia furiously. For a moment, Valerie looked into Dancia's eyes. "There is something fiery and strange about you, witch! Your eyes are defiant! But none can defy Count N....Count N...Val-er---rie Cain!" she said coldly. "Flee! See the awful power of death!" she said, as, for one moment, her eyes turned jet black and terrible, and a horrible chill crept into Dancia...

So I guess it is all fluff dream stuff, but I hope that IC post by myself and Tiff works, HG! happy to edit if need be!

"Why my dear, that is a most excellent plan! How about a rock slide?" he answered. Rene was good at this anyway, in the "Real world". Summoning up things from his imagination like brush strokes on reality. Could it work here, with his companions? "ZUt Alors! Oui! A rock slide! Just like in ze awful Western Movies which I never watch! A classic! With the low sun shining in the face of the driver! With the long shadows creating a beautiful spectacle of bronze and orange! Oui!" He looked up at the scenery, scanning for cliff faces. His eyes fared not well in any world, but his mind could see the world as a sea of impressions. He could not read with it, but for beauty, artistry, and shadowed rubble in a low sun, it was better than any eye. "By Jupiter!" he yelled to the wind, whilst his horse ran, a way behind Mona and Danci's more fluid steeds. And, from the heavens, a roaring thunderbolt, striking some rubble on a cliff...

So lets go for a Plane Crash! Toughness 30 Save! Harsh, but that should be it for the thread! How do Cord, Gold, and the Pilot thread. They all have +2 Toughness... 1d20+2=14, 1d20+2=16, 1d20+2=17 Not bad! Cord is dying, The other two are merely disabled and staggered, but not unconscious.

GM Cord rolled an fell into the Pilots chair. "Now then...lets see....if I remember my training..." he said, foggy headed. "Then we would be quite safe. Unfortunately, either I hit my head too hard or I didn't go to flying planes class" he said, wiping sweat off his brow. The ground appeared nearer and nearer. Lights blinked and flashed. Alarms sounded. The Pilot laughed the laugh of death. "Farewell, little girl! Once less American to foil my plots!" he said, hysterically, before his eyes rolled upwards. Then downwards. "What? What? Where am I? Get me out of this! The plane is about to crash!" he yelled at the approaching ground. A few panicked instructions were shouted to Cord, who dutifully tried to pull the plane up. It straightened, rolled, yawed, but... ....but it was too little, too late! Trees crunched into the plane, a few, then more. Blue Jay saw a wing being ripped off...an explosion...fire.... And darkness...

That works for me. Blue Jay - 2 HP- Fatigued

APPROVED

Cool post away. YB will see Y Dderwen hiding in the rafters. He looks like a little green man made from oak and holding a wooden club that seems suspiciously alive (a club with green shoots!)