Supercape

Hi folks, I wonder if you could give opinions (mainly on fluff and plot, but comments on crunch welcome) on this PC. I am wondering about retiring Sunset. He/She was a neat idea but doesn't play that well, I am concerned the Radical is fun but a one trick pony, and I didn't give enough thought into how Sunset would actually propel into action. So I am casting about for ideas, and here is one: The Red Rat. Its a spy, its a taxi driver, that's a start in getting into scrapes (the street, the espionage!) Also, considering the whole issue of relationships, she has an AI in her head, and three different personalities, making a nice web. I will work on fleshing out some of her NPCs if you think this one works. I dont do well historically playing female characters, but I damn well want to crack it. Pitch worked well, but I am a bit concerned she is a bit of a "Tortured femme", great fun to play, but I would like to crack a less screwed up soul. Anyway, comments please! Will this work? Improvements for PLOT (not interested in min/maxing, efficiency)? I dont think we have any super spies here, so this might be one angle!

The Power of the Ocean! 1d20+10=17 It holds...for now!

Excellent! Can we have an opposed roll Power 10 (The pressure of the ocean) vs Create Object?

So for Reference: Glamazon - 3 HP - Dazed, Bruised, Entangled. Tsunami - 2 HP - Unharmed Tenmperance - 3 HP - Unharmed Wave Eye - 1 HP - Unharmed, Entangled. As for initiative, no need as Captain Blood is not going to fight you. So really take it turn by turn in whatever order you please! At the moment we have: Sammy Smooth is completely encrusted in the contagious barnacles. Glamazon and Wave-Eye are entangled by the contagious barnacles Cold Enviroinment (unlikely to matter) Partial Visual Obscure from smoke Ship with a big hole in it and wrecked engines... Anyone with knowledge (phyiscal sciences) can make an estimate of how long the ship will take to sink but its a DC 20 hit.

GM Crack crack crack! Bullets hit the Dead Shot, but died down as the smoke filled the bar and windows. Without a target to see, the assassins gave a brief reprieve. "Man oh man...I don't want to die! Please please baby, I don't wanna die!" wimpered Carl, clutching his leg which was bleeding again. Deadshot brought out his own fire arm, an outdated but perfectly serviceable bolt-action rifle. It was no match for the automatic weapons being fired, but he was a good shot. "Damn you, and your capes, this is what happens when I...." He paused for a fraction of a moment, eyes cast down to the floor where something had landed, thrown through the broken windows. "GRENADE!" he screamed. And then there was a thunderous explosion. Carl screamed, and passed out. He had multiple shrapnel wounds, and his leg was bleeding ferociously once more, the bandages blasted off and wound reopened. Various screams of pain and fear hit the Deadshot, although none of the other drunk barflies seemed in mortal danger. Glass, blood, smoke, and sweat made it hard to see...

Assassins Turn.... Grenade!!!! Damage 5 area effect. +5 Situational Bonus for you and Carl on Reflex save, and the +2 Situational Bonus from Tactics. Carl is a thug with +1 Reflex, +7 from above: 1d20+8=23 he makes it, meaning a DC 18 Toughness save., He is already Bruised, Injured, Disabled, and Staggered. Hi toughness is +3 with leather jacket. 1d20+2=3 Eeeps! Carl is dying once more (Also Knocked out, Injured x2, Bruised x2) Various barflys are injured Dead Shot has a toughness of 4 and Reflex of 6 1d20+6=24 fast reflexes url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4588578/]1d20+4=11 not so good. He is dazed and stunned. King is up!

Ok for convenience sake, initiative is take 10 for the thugs, so 17. The thugs are actually 8 Assassins (M&M Core group) PL 5. They are armed with Asssault Rifles, other equipnment, and wear Bullt Proof Vests (so Toughness 7) Cole has spared no expense! For reference, Key Stats: Attack +3, +6 Ranged. Defence +5 (+2 flat footed), Tough 7 (+4 Flat footed), Fort +1, Reflex +6, Will +2, Attack +0 (Unarmed) +5 (Rifle, with autofire) Key feats: Improved Aim, Power Attack Key Skills: Stealth 8 (+11), Notice 6 (+7), Bluff 6 (+8) Normally a peice of cake for the King, but

GM "Deluded? No, no, my friend, my enemy. I am enlightened!" he said, coughing again.The fires were fully formed now, and smoke was rapidly filling the boat. "I am a dead man. Not for a few months, but my cancer is terminal, and aggressive. So, I wish to die on my own terms, in the service of God, rather than as a weakling coward" "Morsi is a traitor! He will not share his research, will not provide the nuclear weapons that the middle east needs. A vile, traitorous man, fallen from God, more interested in his own prestige than the faith. And so, he must be punished!" "I am no scientist, but I have money, I have contacts, and I have people who can help.....the Fission Chips have been modified...improved on. Morsi though they could not be used as weapons. Well, they can!" The glowing points under his skin burned even brighter, searing the Princes flesh. If not for the pain killers, it would have been agony. "Let their be light! Muahahahaha!" laughed a hysterical prince, as the chips continued to burn brighter and brighter....!

GM Filth was scrabbling around in a panic. "Heeeeeeellllp!" he shouted, barely listening to Bloodline, and tearing his t shirt as he tried to get through the crack in the tunnels a hundred times. But not whilst he was being threatened by a Vampire on one side and by Vampire hunters on the other. "Very well!" The answer, in English, came from the black eyed rat on his shoulder, the rat that Filth had named "Vermin". The little scoundrel spoke in perfect English, a hiss and a scrawl, but English all the same. And then he was off, scurrying through the darkness. On the other side of the crack, two of the mob strode. Two men, this time, just shy of middle age with torches and shotguns. They looked a lot more thug like than the benign pair Bloodline had met. Tattoos, a broken nose, shaved heads. Brothers, probably. Ex-military, maybe. "We found him!" "Wait....that's just some scrawny kid...." "Must be the Vampire anyhow...." Click...The sound of the safety coming off....

No problem, you sense that the Prince, whilst Ill, is hamming it up / distracting / stalling you.

GM Asad's fist flew into the energy, creating more sparks, more shudders, and more flashes of lightning. Then...it dimmed. Then...it faded. The lights blew out, the power shorted. The yacht was plunged into darkness, lit only by the setting sun and the equally red fires that had started in several places. Smoke started to curl around the ceiling. The Prince coughed. Painful, for someone so ill, despite the lines that fed in and out of him. The Fission Chips still glowed brightly under his skin, but no longer streamed out into the energy being he had become. "<Nothing....Nothing....*cough*...like a thief, like a bandit, you leave me with nothing! You, who had everything! Your gifts....a test....and you have failed. You are nothing but a bandit prince of old! A playboy, a hedonist, a pretender!>" The Prince was both sad and angry, and started coughing violently again as the smoke hit his fragile lungs. A few specks of blood. The medical equipment had shorted out but he was still hooked up to morphine.

That Hits! So, a DC 25 Fort Save. He cant make that, but how badly? 1d20+5=7 He is down, baby, down! Throw me a sense motive roll, will ya?

GM "And God will judge me Great, Fool!" replied the Prince. In his energy form, he was fast, flipping through the air like a floating fly. "And don't think I don't know who, and what you are! A squanderer of gifts! Well, so was I, but now, I am a different man!" The Prince was smart enough to avoid Asad's power drain. Around, he flew, and then touched Asad himself. Just touching the energy was a recipe for sparks and fizzing. Ozone hit the air, and the nostrils. One larger spark hit the curtains, and started a fire. The wisps of smoke added to the mixture of smells. Even Asad felt the power, roaring through him. And the Prince just laughed. "Too much for you?" The power was immense.

So, unfortunately at a miss (Defence is +8) In response, he will try to envelop you back, a [1d20+10=23 hit, which means a Damage 10 (DC 25) save please!

Edit made to attack bonus. And... ....wait for it.... ..... .... APPROVED! Yippee!

MY MAN FRIDAY by Thevshi Finally, in relation to Lord Steam, I will need to put in minion [Charles Blakely] Somewhere... Any Ideas where? Ideally it should be just below Steams sheet... Anyway

DEDUCTED by Thevshi And in reference to that, keeping up the tidying up, we have a change to Lord Steam. he has 15 PP to spend. 1. First off, the Sheet is erroneous in the first place, 138 Skill Ranks which should cost 35 PP (And have 2 Ranks of skills spare!) That said, it is costed correctly at the bottom (176 PP spent) - basically somewhere forgot to update skills to 35 PP from 26 PP. In any case, it does leave 2 skill ranks spare. 2. Lord Steam should be PL 9 / 12, could someone update the topic thread? 3. Equipment now Equipment 16 (15 Free from Silver Reward) meaning it costs 1 PP. 4. Minion 7 (Free from Platinum rewards) changed to Minion 6, costing 6 PP. Team Steam was never used, so abandoning them for just his butler, Charles Blakely (who was used!) 5. 4 PP Feats (Chokehold, Improved Pin, Defensive Attack, Improved Grab) 6. 4 PP for Skills (4 Ranks in Craft [Chemical], Knowledge [Physical Sciences], Knowledge [behavioural Sciences], and Ride) 7. The "spare" two ranks of skills (see point 1) are going onto Craft [structural])

SORTED by Thevshi Small edit for sake of tidy book keeping. Bloody Mess - For the sake of bookkeeping could he be defined as Gold Slot (This is same start, 180 PP) sorry to be a pain but Im just trying to rationalise everything! Rene was always a Bronze Reward PC (the sites rewards name changed!) could you update this (no longer Impervium, but Bronze) Similarly, I am tidying up the rewards which all got a bit cluttered and scatty (although in budget!). Could you define Renes Equipment feat as free from Platinum Rewards. (No other changes to Mess and Rene!) For reference I am tidying up all rewards so they look neat and proper, thusly:

GM "Sure, sure, cool your eyes, man. They burning up like some kinda heavy metal album cover. Well cool, man!" smiled Filth as the rat, Vermin conttinues studying him with jet black eyes" "I can get you to the surface, no problem-oh" said Filth, trying to be cool and dripped in slang. The effect was disconcerting rather than impressive. "Hundred and one ways out, to every nook and cranny of the city. Dunno about drug stores though, man. The Fat Fingers territory, they are" he spat, trying, ineffectually, to show his contempt of the bigger and, in all honesty, more competent gang. "By the way man" he said, as he started squeezing his way through the narrow crack out of the hiding hole. "Whats the deal with those eyes, you some kind of robot or something? You look really..." "Shhhh! Shhhy! I heard somebody talking! Quick, radio it in!" Filth was not keeping his mouth shut, and they both heard the voice echo down the tunnel. The pitchforks and torches had heard them. "Damn! Damn! They heard me!" squeaked Filth, even more loudly. He started panicking, hyperventilating. And in the tiny crack out of the den, that was not good. "Help! Help! I'm gonna die! I'm stuck...." he wailed.

GM "Vermin? My Rat?" gulped Filth, shuffling the rat of his shoulder dismissively. The rat still squarked and hissed in a language only Filth could understand. "No way, man, I ain't talking to no rat! I mean, not this rat anyway! You ever talked to a rat? You know how small their brains are? Anyway I don't need to talk to em, man. I can control them! That's right, dude, I am a super!" he smiled, looking very un-super. "Makes me king down here, ya know? Filth is gonna build up his gang and rule! Gonna take down the Sleazebuckets, and the Fat Fingerz, and the Street Spitterz! Hell, I can even take down the Gaschuggers. Maybe...." he mused, eyeing Bloodlines gun again. "I ain't gonna do anything good man! I'm gonna be the Filth! Biggest, baddest, gang in town!" he said, shaking his hands in heavy metal horn style, and trying to look imposing. "What did ya have in mind, something bad?"

GM Filth blinked. once. twice. Slowly. The rat on his shoulder hissed, and...smiled...before whispering in Filth's ear. Bloodline could hear him, but couldn't speak Rat. "Uh...Uh...Sure man...." gulped Filth, his mouth betraying all sorts of emotions. Cunning, fear, desperation....a childhood of being bullied for ginger hair and all the neuroses and desires that came from it. "I know the back of these tunnels like the maze of my hand" he smiled, blurting out the mixed up words. "Come with me..." he said, grabbing his electric lantern. He was good for his word, too. In but a minute of scrabbling through the tunnels - and at the end, squeezing through a space so tight one could feel your chest crack, he lead Bloodline to one of his "dens". A scrappy, dirty place. Bloodlines nose, sharper than any human;s could pick out a lot of scents. Rats, maybe. Lots of rats. Only a half dozen here, but the scent of many others that came and went. A lot of smells that one might want to not think about, too. A few ripped heavy metal posters. Some lights, magazines, even a black and white TV hooked up to some power cables that ran at the back of the den, and would frighten even a brave electrician. It was small, and cramped, but safe. Or so one would hope. The noise of trudging footsteps and whispered chatter could be heard outside. But with the echoes of the tunnels one could not gauge how close the mob was...

Filth is too cool for that! Actually auto passes.