Supercape
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Carmen Cantos was itching to get an interview with Valerie Cain. Its just that her management team didn't think Carmen Cantos was going to write nice things about Valerie Cain. Perhaps they were right. She did have a habit of scathing reviews of pretentious wannabes. But Valerie Cain didnt strike her as a wannabe. She had the licks. She had the attitude. She looked good with a guitar. She had just managed to get a half blurred shot of the superstar, interviewed by Super-Vision, before a security arm thrust the Camera out of her way. "Get yer goddamn hands offa me, suit!" she implored. She was halfway to getting a couple of security officers introducing their shoes to her ass and her face to the pavement outside, when a meteor strike. "Now that's news!" she grinned, before exiting. She may have been a rockster rather than a reporter, but she could also seize oppurtunity when it came. And she did have a camera with a long lens. She ran to her bike parked illegally outside. Not fast, mind. A limp slowed her down, but fast enough. She threw away the parking ticket, kicked on the throttle, and sped off!
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Following like a beady eyed hawk!
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GM Clonk...clonk...clonk.... To join Roberts head, three more hit the table. The Duke's, Grimalkin, and Velocities. Some snored, some did not. Who snored? That, dear reader, shall remain unsaid to protect the decorum of those present. The Head Butler, Rutte, coughed, then poked the Duke with a silver fork. No response. "Why the Duke has resorted to such drastic measures I will not know. Drugs, in food? Not a gentleman's game, I daresay" he sniffed, poking Robert, Grimalkin and Velocity in equal measure. The poke was hardly agony, but it was a firm and proper poke. "Take them downstairs. I don't know what the Duke plans" he continued, beckoning the manservants, and poking the Duke particularly hard to no effect. "But I would imagine we shall soon find out. Probably wants to address this slowing effect. Beyond me, I must say" he sighed. The assorted butlers and maids, two to a slumbering figure, started dragging the prostate heroes and the Duke down to the cellars...
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GM K was stomping his feet outside the car, smoking and cursing under his breath. "Yes, sure, American. I be missed you liking a head in the hole" he said, flipping his cigarette away. The night air was cold and he was tired. "But you are being passport to the America? I helping you with deep secret Communist plot? My life is in the dangerous now. The Sleeper, the Doctor. These men are being the mythology in Russia. The Dangerous men. Eyes being the everywhere...." His eyes shifted left to right and back again, trying to spot the shadows in every corner. Spotting shadows was not difficult, with the pain light of street lamps. "Not the safe for me in Russia now. Word be getting out and..." he cut an imaginary line across his throat. "Where is the woman one?" he asked Foreshadow, trying to see if he could see Synapse.
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GM "Freaky? Honey, I have seen freaky...that finger don't even come close!" he said, taking a few steps back and putting his hands through his elegant hairsprayed hair. "Why, I saw some schoolgirls turn green only an hour ago. But I ain't ever seen no finger that long!" he continued before pausing. "Wait...he told you? What are you talking about? Somebody did this to you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Honey, you shouldn't buy any old junk from any old man. Believe me, I should know" he said, recalling the mall. "...I ain't ever heard of any funky chemicals that did that, though? Exactly what happened? who did this?" he asked, voice turning to one that was laced with suspicion. He gave Daphne a penetrating look with one eye, leaning forward as if the extra foot he gained by doing so would make his ears sharper and his eyes clearer. Perhaps they would, too. Mr. Bluff knew how to tell a lie. And he knew how to spot one, too.
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GM "I am disappointed, American. For all your strength and skill, your mind is still constrained by lower, base morals. Would you kill one person to save ten? to save a hundred? For a man of your abilities, inaction is as guilty as murder" he replied, with a smile. His eyes shone blue once more. "But enough! my plans with Blonsky are ruined. And I cannot salvage them by your defeat. The experiments provided useful data, and it to this I must attend. Good bye and farewell, American! The Sleeper is watching!" he laughed. He backflipped into a run, faster than any olympian, and finished with a mighty leap, close to a hundred feet, which ended with a nose dive into the cold cold waters of the river. For all his arrogance, Doctor Zero clearly had something to be arrogant about!
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So lets see if Zero can make it! He is running across the building roof for 50 feet (the maximum length of the building), then he is taking a massive running leap of 90 feet into the river, and diving into it! Its cold an wet! The river itself is 100 feet away (50 feet across the rooftop, fifty more feet to the bank). Zero is 40 feet into the river.
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Rene heaved a big sigh and clutched his shoulder. "I am not a young man anymore. War and bloodshed has lost its youthful appeal" he said, limping back to Father Henri. "Once, the flower of youth marched for glory. And met with tears and wailing. There is no glory in war, no credit in fighting for country or God, Father" He sat down on the broken coach. "And now, we have no coach. Unless you are a carpenter as well as a priest, I think we must ride the rest of the journey and pray that God does not bless us with rain from his heavens" He cast a look back at the bandit leader. "But first, I think we should tie up our bandito here, and make sure he is fully disarmed" Tying up the man was accomplished with the leather reins of the coach and horses. then, Rene patted the man down thoroughly. There was plenty of chance that the brigand could have a stilleto in his boot, or a garrotte in his belt. And then, Rene slapped him awake. Not to hard. But not gentle either. "Bandito! Awaken! It is time to tell us who you are, and why you haunt us!"
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He cant possibly match that bluff (the dice turn) The Strike hits a flat footed Zero. 1d20+7=21 Another Bruise, post away!
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"Wow!" Pitch had seem some crazy stuff in her time. Short as her life had been (by infernal standards), it had been packed with wildness. But she had never seen a demon explode into a swarm of hellish bats. Spectacle aside, it still posed a problem. She could barely see for the horrible flapping of leathery wings. "What's the matter, honey? Are you falling apart? Going batty?" she shouted back, as full of defiance as ever. I hope these things aren't flameproof. Probably are. But I hope they ain't anyway! ...I hope Nikki is flame proof too... She took a mighty lungful of dusty desert air, feeling the heat, feeling the sand, feeling a burning fire. And then she exhaled, a massive wave of flame from her mouth. She turned her head this way and that, her lungs acting like a human flamethrower, spraying the horrors in the air with brimstone and burns.
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The best kind! Pitch will narrate a breath of flame!
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Post away!
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GM Doctor Zero dropped to one knee. Not without a fight. He slumped, his face gritted. His eyes focussed, ignoring the cobwebs in his head. "Only human. Yes. But there is no Only about it, my friend. None at all" he said, through gritted teeth. He bowed his head, and then with sheer force of will, stood up again. "God is dead. Behold the superman" he quoted, once again upright, bringing his fingers into his palms, clenching his fists. "Humans are evolving, my friend. I should know. Stronger, faster, smarter. Your Freedom City is full of costumed marvels, throwing lightning bolts, flying through the air, and lifting freight trains. What then, the place for man? Like all your country, the world lies in the hand of the elite. For me, however, I serve the human race. And will elevate them!" "Do you not want such power? Do you not want to be stronger? faster? I have the means. A viral agent, that will evolve mankind. Not yet perfected, but it has shown " he finished, before once again bringing his fists up.
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ok so Foreshadow is up again, as Doctor Zero is dazed.
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GM The rat scuttled away into the shadows. Bloodline could swear he heard a snigger from the Rat as it vanished. Filth had pulled himself out of the wedge he was in, outside in the main tunnels. You would have to be deaf not to hear the boots on concrete, steel, and filthy tepid water at this stage. "They are coming, man! They are coming!" he said, hopping from one foot to another. "A whole damn gang of them! We gotta split man! Gotta split! Or they going to fry us, burn us, tie us to a flippin' stake, dude! Getting Medieval on us!" he spluttered, too loudly. No doubt the vampire hunters could here them. Filth decided that, whatever he owed the Vampire, or the other way round, he was going to fall back on a tried and tested tactic that had served him through school and into early adulthood. He turned heel, and ran!
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In for a dime, in for a dollar... Western capitalist monetary system is corrupt and obsolete. Translation: In for a superior soviet kopeck, in for a superior soviet Ruble. These days, Noemi was getting pretty good at ignoring Slave. "Hey, this is hot stuff, y'know, like you!" she winked. "I would love to tell you, but, like, not in the middle of a reception where people could be listening or have bugs implanted on you....you ain't bugged, are you? Not wearing a wire?" Spy reflexes never really died. "Look, Ill tell you all on the way. I guess you got some nice wheels? Preferably something that can drive...well, not quite off road, but on roads that havent been repaired for a few decades?" she asked. Decadent American Automobiles are for corrupt and wealthy only. Analysis: Automobiles owned by Target are likely to be ostentatious phallic symbols, inferior to the Superior Functionality of Soviet Models...
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Good good. DO you fool people? Who knows.... Heri, throw a bluff roll for Grim if you do the same
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Pitch clenched her hands, willing the chains to tighten, to crush, to rend. She imagined, and even felt, the red welts, and her blazing fury smiled. Wait.... The chains clinked as they tightened still further, beginning to draw blood. ...He is using you....he wants this.... The anger did not subside, but she felt it now. Felt that something the kid had set alight in her. It was not a difficult thing, to make her angry. And people didn't like her when she was angry. But...her anger should be her own, not some manipulative sorcery. Every so slightly, the chains relaxed, shifting, squirming. Still tight, still full of ache, still squeezing the breath out of him. His voice! His tongue! "I got ya know, ya witch...or whatever ya are..." she said through gritted teeth and fast breath. "So know...don't speak...just nod or shake your head. One chance, and one chance only. You got a choice - either I squeeze you to ribbons, or you tell me where Tazel is, where my cane is, and what the hell you have done with John..."
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Switching too non-lethal damage but keeping up the constriction.
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GM The Pilot grunted as the cord whipped around him. He made a reach for the pistol tucked into his belt behind him. No more than a peashooter, but bullets were bullets. He wasn't fast enough though. "Very well, young woman. This man will go down with the rest of the plane. A shame, but necessary. I have done far worse over the years, and no doubt I will do far worse again. You have no idea of the shades of grey that swirl around the political, know idea about the dirt that lies under the fingernails of spies. I am used to such filth. Perhaps I even no longer care" The pilot looked glazed, his eyes glassy. Clearly now he was under some kind of telepathic control. "This pilot was innocent, however, and I prefer to spare the innocent. But prefer does not mean I will. In the Game of Thrones, only those who will sacrifice a few to spare many will win" he said. The plane began to dive. Cord rolled over, and bumped his head again. Gold was so drugged up he simply slumped, and carried on snoozing. "Are we there yet?" asked Cord, groggily.
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GM "There is no duchess, madame But fear not, I am far from lonely" he chuckled, amused with himself. He paused a moment, rubbing his eyes. "So tell me madame...what would the Faerie veil say about slowing down, eh? Is it a glamour? an artifice? Some wicked curse? And more importantly, is there a way to speed things up again? After all, your good friend Madame Velocity has remarkable pace, does she not?" He turned his attention to Velocity once more. "How did you come to possess such marvellous energy? Like a bolt of lightning! Perhaps that was it? Struck by lightning? Or was it a mere...ah...um...a mere..." he shook his head and yawned. "A mere accident of fate? or...birth? Good lords, I feel sleepy..." he said, yawing once more, his eyes crossing. Next to Velocity, Roberts face was in his bowl of strawberries and he was snoring heavily.
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Still enraged or...?
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ILl throw Pitch in, with the proviso that there are not more appropriate people to be in ths thread!
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Character deceased and archived at player request