Supercape

Escaped Mad Clone time, so notice roll..1d20+9=11

1d20+12=21?

That snares him! He cant make that., post away!

GM A few hours later.... "This place is awesome!" said Charlie Chalks. Charlie was the radio operator at the Big EZ. She looked like a punk, with short spiky hair, a nose ring, and attitude. She had a big mouth too. She was tall, skinny as a rake, flat chested, tattooed, but looked beautiful all the same. She just had a knack of attracting the wrong guys, and the wrong girls too, for that matter. If trouble was a moth, she was a candle. Charlie knew all about the Red Rat. She found out when Noemi accidently devolved into a hairy ape-woman in front of her. That was an interesting night. Fortunately, the two women where close. And Charley, for all her big mouth, could keep it closed when it mattered. When it really mattered. The taxi had driven them straight into the Safehouse. They had brought one or two luxuries. An old TV, a few blankets, some music and a CD player. Even some Pot-noodles and coffee for the kitchen. "Party!" shouted Charlie as they entered the living area of the Safe house. She wasted no time in setting up the CD player and blasting out the Sex Pistols. "Sheesh, good thing this place is sound proof, Charlie" sighed Noemi as her friend danced away, examing the rather spartan furbishments. "This place needs some living in! Some livening up!" declared the punk girl, spinning on one foot. "Are you sure we cant have a house warming party?" she said, pleading. "Not unless we find some drug to knock them out and make them forget they were ever here" explained Noemi. "Bingo!" smiled Charlie, bringing out a large bottle of Jack Daniels. "Charlie you are getting us into trouble" sighed Noemi, with a big grin. She took a swig. "But I guess we could do with a celebration! This place was a find!" Intoxication with Western brand alcohol leads to sub-optimal functioning... Great! Maybe you should have a drink too? Meanwhile... THe lights on the cloning machine blinked...and the lid of the machine slid silently away. Dry Ice, cool and crisp, flowed to the floor. And a pale white, veined, almost transclucent hand reached up from the frost...

And its wrapped. Keeping this open for underwater follow up discussions (if you wish!)

GM A little later... ....At the bottom of the Ocean, in an underwater cave... "The Sea be protected, oh dread lord beneath the waves!" declared Captain Blood, as boldly as he could. The cave was dark, only faintly illuminated by an eerie green light. The water down here was...sick, in some mercurial way, like swamp water, full of rot. Shapes moved in the shadow. Hands, feet, limbs. Bloated and grey... The figure on the throne could not be seen, at least fully. A large man, with long hair down to his waist. Glinting eyes that saw everything. A skull on one of the thrones rests. "Be protected? By whom?" boomed the voice. It was not exactly loud. It was rich, demanding, full, and complete. Bloods nerve began to fray. "Heroes, they say. From the land. Three women, one man. Possessed of unnatural strength, and fierce, too" The Skull on the throne laughed, its jaw clicking. "Wave Eye! Hahaha! I told you, the muredrer from the past, my dread lord! He know serves the men of the land!" "Be quiet, for once, Skull!" commanded the man on the throne "I know of what you have told me. And I must think on this. This is an unfortunate delay, Blood. All must drown, and all must serve...and I must punish those who fail me...." As he drifted towards Captain Blood, the shadows closed around them. And Captain Blood let out a laugh that was also a scream. ~ Fin ~

I can throw in Red Rat or Bloody Mess for street stuff, although Red Rat may be a more suitable PL.

GM The Duke seemed to be enjoying his food, at any rate, scoffing it down at a considerable pace. He only paused to drink his very fine wine, and comment on its vintage, tannins, and complexity. He turned to Grimalkin, fascinated by her. "My dear, you have come most highly recommended by a certain bookstore keeper. As has your speedy friend. Tell me, what manner of creature are you? An immortal goddess? A playful sprite? Do pardon my impertinence, my dear. I have a natural curiousity, the mind of a philosopher I am afraid. Too many nights of my youth studying Decartes instead of the rough and tumble of childhood play" he chuckled. "I won't deny an element of self interest, either! I still have my slowing brain to deal with. So far, Science has let me down, although Lord Harrow and Velocity may yet aide me with that. I cannot help but hope the Occult may be the cause and the solution to my problem. In which case, I must naturally inquire as to your nature and wisdom in such arcane matters!" he said, passing Grimalkin a very generous glass of rich and fruity port. Strawberries and cream were served, to complement the aroma of the ancient port decanter.

Ok an unusual circumstance, but hey, thats what makes things interesting. The crowd are about to Riot, but...will they? Its DC 25 to Stop them Rioting, and DC 15 to make sure they dont Riot at poor Rachel! So first off, can the Microphone help Rachel? Its like a modified aid other, so lets say a DC 10 CHA roll to give a +5 bonus to Rachel (if you please, Blue Rose) But it all boils down to the woman on stage! Does she have presence? She makes the CHA roll for the above, perhaps helped by her helpful Microphone!

You are both sleight of hand masters!

GM A little while later...on the Streets of the Fens...Early Morning.... Word had gotten around. The people of the Fens had had enough of being pushed around by yet another Crime Boss. By mouth, by phone, the people had come out. the King of Suits recognised more than a few. Some were criminals, most were just brave souls who had decided to clean the streets tonight. To show the Fens that it was more than just the dustbin of Freedom City. That good people lived there too. Good people with brave hearts, baseball bats, and guns. Deadshot was there too. This time with his old sniper rifle. "You started a big night, cape. For what its worth, this will go down in history. And I will be part of it" he said solemnly, giving the King a salute. The King of Suits saw them all. Big Jimmy Fists, Baseball Bat Billy, Mad Homeless Jane, Paul Piledriver. The Bloody Mess had come out to see what was happening, and was only too keen to break out lefty and righty. Even Harry Hound was there, wiping his brow and fretting, but for once, with the Kings Inspiration, his courage got the better of him. They swept through the streets. There was gunfire, intermittently. There were casualities. Wounded, and dead. The police were not far away, but this was turning into a riot. A force of nature that could not be controlled. The Night of the two Kings.. That would be what they called it. Tomorrow, next week, next year. Forever. Building after building was cleaned, the hoodlums thrown out. King Cole started running, his men and his morale breaking. There was a final stand, where bullets flew and everything went to hell. The police swarmed in, adding to the chaos. Tensions were high. The people of the Fens accusing the police of not acting, saying the Fens needed to be cleaned up. Politicians would debate the night for months. But everyone knew it was the Night of the Two Kings. King Cole arrested. His men broken. And the King of Suits, triumphant.... ....and shot again. And again. And again. Always at the front, but driven by a will so strong that bullets could not stop him until he finally had King Cole in his iron hands...

Post away, you can detecte somebody / something rustling in the bushes!

Ok so could I have a notice roll for Skaere? For reference, I make her liftung Strength 27. Vince is a smallish man so lets say 140 lbs. This is a light load for her, so away she goes!

GM Vince got up, stumbled, and fell to his knees again. Gritting his bloodied teeth, he sort of crawled up Skaeres back, clinging on to her fur, climbing up. "Who would have thought I would end up mounting a girl? First time for everything..." he joked as he wrapped his arms around her. "Lady, I love you, even if you are the wrong species and the wrong gender. I'll buy you fries and a shake for this" he joked, wincing in pain from his bruised and stiff body. "But, if someone is out for you, just drop me, huh? Looks like they want me to be your dead weight..." he said bravely. Ominously, the forest rustled. Surely just a gust of wind, but it was dense here, with trees, roots, and leaves everywhere. Easy to hide in. Skaere had managed to sneak up on the bikers, but somebody could now be sneaking up on her...

That all works! Thev feel free to respond accordingly!

ILl throw out something I have had a few discussions about. This is embryonic. It is for all those Star lords / Rogues / Bounty Hunters / Rapscallions / Safari snipers. Thinking about a "Space Station Primus" A beat up old space station in the middle of the galaxy, full of afore mentioned mercenaries, criminals, rogues. It is essentially the "Mos Eisley Cantina" to meet up, drink, and meet an old dwarf with a map to the fabled lost treasure of [insert generic D&D module here] contacts who can lead to plots! As a separate thing, wondering about a "Space Safari Club", membership of which gives you access to exclusive clubs, contacts, and stories. For the Big Game hunters of Africa, but in Space.

The food has been drugged. But what is the drug? Perhaps a Life Sciences (Knowledge) roll DC 20 (trained) would tell you...but has Grim got that? Dum Dum Daaaah Also Velocity is free to have eaten the food already! for an HP!

GM The pilot looked momentarily glazed, then shook his head, a smile on his face. "Sounds like justice will be served" he commented before moving back to the cockpit. A few minutes passed by, the landscape below rolling past gently. Then, there was a wobble in the plane. Then, another. Then a dip. The plane was starting to fall. The pilot appeared, wearing a parachute, running to the door. "I am sorry, American scum, the Sleeper is not about to reveal his secrets so easily! I may have lost an asset, but you will not have the pleasure of my exploding man either!" he said, in an odd voice. A trace of Russian, perhaps. Then, he reached for the door...

That works. I dont think that would count as a Sneak Attack, sorry - but on the other hand you do manage to bruise and daze him! 1d20+8=13 Can you post that?

Waiting for Tiffs roll! (and IC posts!)

GM Robert was already tucking into the onion soup. Delicious it was, too. The smell was enough to cause salivation in all but the most spartan of palates. He looked up to her, mouth full of delicious french bread dripping with soup. Robert was normally a most mannered eater, but right now he was in culinary heaven. "*Scoff* Yeah...its slowed down too....mmmm...means you can savour it more!" he grinned, a few crumbs falling onto his napkin and staining it. "Seriously, honey...this stuff is the best! I haven't been short of a few top class meals in my time, but this is better than Paris! the Duke knows his herbs and spices...that much I do know!" he grinned. "So it might be slowed down, just that odd tick...but honestly, the smells take my mind of it!" he said, draining the soup and popping a lemongrass prawn in his mouth.

SOunds good to me, Goose, Send me a pm to discuss!

Does she know (For tyings in of the characters!)

So if you guys are stealthing (one or other) can you give me stealth rolls. Also, throw me notice rolls the both of ya!

GM The castle was dark inside. THe grey skies of Wales still shone through the cracks, peppering the walls with shafts of light that had an eerie beauty. Underneath was stone, earth, and weeds. The faint fluttering of wings - birds, maybe. Or bats. The walls varied from relatively intact to completely crumbled, but overall it was fair to say that little remained of the architecture. Stone still stood, but wood was rotted. Between the darkness and the architectural decay, the castle was probably not safe to be in. At least without a solid helmet. In one corner, sparkles. Beautiful sparkles, like a fairy light, hypnotic almost. Lucy Diamond. There she was, glittering in the dark, the shafts of light bounding of her. She had chosen the perfect illumination for her. She waved her glittering hand in front of her, mesmerising herself. Her clothes were rags, and her hair a knotted mess of straw. Singing an celtic ditty about