Supercape
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Cool. For reference: Synapse - 1 HP Ulysses - 1 HP
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Foreshadow has a prepared suprise attack ready! Flat footed the athlete has a defence of +4 (14)
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GM "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" said Edward, indignant at the intrusion. "This isn't halloween or Freedom City!" he explained, standing up stiff. His challenge, and the mental interchange between the two heroes was cut short as, true to Foreshadow's visions, a heavy set Russian charged into Edwards appartment. He still wore that glazed, single minded focus look to his eyes. And his massive build was no different, all muscles and veins. But this man had a deep anger to his eyes, his mission set to more violence than the other athletes Synapse and Foreshadow had encountered. "Edward Farrington" he said through gritted teeth as he entered. "For you, the olympics is over! You should not have asked wrong questions, at wrong time, to wrong people!" he said, a cursory but functional english. The muscleman had no counted on Foreshadow being there. Nor on his sticks...
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GM The sewer man just gurgled as Blur sped around him. He seemed incapable of speech, the green goo covering him bubbling up through his lungs and mouth. That said, there was something dull about the man, slow, blind - as if his mental senses had been dulled. He looked half asleep. And in no shape to dodge the Blur. The blows connected solidly, and were enough to make them stagger, fall, and fly through the air. One landed heavily on a car, to the tinkering of glass. His limbs twitched briefly, and then he was asleep. The other crashed into a streetside hot dog stand, sending mustard and meat flying. He didn't even twitch, just sagged like a lifeless doll. Whatever strange force had taken them, was no protection from concussion it seemed. The goo fizzed and stung Blur's foot and fist where he had kicked the men. As if it was trying to get inside him. He could feel red and angry flesh underneath the boot and on his hand.
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Life Knight is up!
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Could you throw me an intimidate roll for that?
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ic Earth Victoriana: The Face of Politics
Supercape replied to Supercape's topic in The Realms Beyond
GM The Putty dribbled off the goons face, revealing a ruddy complexion of a country tough, one of Ned's boys for sure. What surprised Carrie was his strength. True, Neds gang tended to be strong and tall farm labourers, handy with a hammer or cudgel to wreck the machines of industry. But this guy - he felt like an Olympian. If it wasn't for Carries skill in manipulating joints and proper grips and holds, he would have flung her off like a gadfly. "Officers! This woman is my bodyguard!" said a huffing Lord Pennyworth, waving at the crowd, always keen to drum up a little more popularity with heroics, even by proxy. "What we have here is the mystery behind all these crazed speeches and political nonsense! someone has been impersonating us! it is Treason, Sir! Treason of the highest order!" he said, hands clutching lapels in indignation. "Thats all very well and good sir" said the head Copper, an older man who looked like he had been dished a little more brains than the regular bobby. "But where are the originals? dead? captured? we need answers!" Ned groaned, his nose a bloody mess on his face. "We shall have our day! brothers! sisters! the common man will never be...hey? where did they go?" mumbled Ned, voice fuzzy from concussion, under the grip of the three Coppers who had redirected their attention from Cannonade to the head Luddite. -
Noble Sentiment....gotta hand it to the guy...reminds me of... Carmen pushed aside thoughts of her own father, and his ambigious motivations for her. He had saved her life and ruined it at once. This guy seemed a lot cleaner. "Well I for one believe it, mister. I seen enough black metal groupies and dabblers to get a hint that there is more to this world than vivid imaginations and dungeons and dragons" she breathed, feeling a little flush from the wine. "Sometimes your dreams bite back" She paced up the room, grabbing her cane for comfort, both physical and mental. "But how do we fight this curse? sounds like bold and noble sentiment, for all that it is bold and noble, ain't gonna cut the mustard on its own, right? Far as I see it, we either try and fight the axe when it falls, give the witch the blood she want's, or some kind of resolution, or erase the curse once and for all. I'm all for the fight, but I don't know about the erasing...that looks like Nicks job..."
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So flashing ministry badge for Sil will likely do the job, but Coppers are suspicious b***rds. So a DC 5 CHA check to see if she pulls that off without questions. Cannonade on the other hand will be without information, so its bluff, intimidate, or diplomacy (or run, jump, fly, or whatever!)
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ic Earth Victoriana: The Face of Politics
Supercape replied to Supercape's topic in The Realms Beyond
GM Ned was a tough old boot, but Cannonade was a jackhammer on steroids. The blow caught him square on, and Ned sailed through the air, his limbs floppy as his vision dimmed. "What? You were meant to help us - impersonate...oh...." the penny dropped as he sailed in a parabola over the park. Ned was often blinded by his ambition, but he wasn't stupid. The real Cannonade had returned. Meanwhile.. "Now then madam, let the gent go...and no more ink throwing, if you please!" said three Coppers who triangulated Silhouette. They were reasonably capable men, but no match for the power of Silhouette - she knew she could drop them at a stroke. Still, the"Coppers" of this dimension were not armed with plain truncheons. Theirs were bound tightly with copper wiring, and a ratchet system. By rotating the handle for a minute, the "Copper" built up a nasty electric charge that could stun and incapacitate. Hence, Coppers got their name. "Ere'! Get your bleedin' hands off!" shouted one of the other three Coppers who approached Cannonade. As they approached, the three putty men started to melt into the crowd. "I saw that! What are yer? Some kinda Russian Strongman?" asked the second. "Yer cant just punch people in the face here, my lad! this is England!" he finished, branding his copper bravely. -
1d20+5=14 so Dazed and Staggered. Also, sailing through the air. 500 feet knockback, to be precise. Ill have him cut that short at 200 feet (as in a park), and hitting a pavillion for another DC 20 Toughness Save 1d20+5=18 which earns him a bruise. The Coppers are going to move around Cannonade and Silhouette, as they have just commited acts of violence, and speak! The 3 Puttymen who have not been grappled by Sil will start backing off into the crowds. Moving out of combat for a moment...
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HG Foreshadow can resist that, or chose to fail
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ooc Sweet Dreams (Aren't made of this) (OOC)
Supercape replied to Brown Dynamite's topic in Archives
1d20+2=11 for initiative -
"A beast?" said Rene, warming to the steel-clad woman. "Well, I shall certainly be on the look out for a magical beast!" he beamed, before clicking his fingers and putting them into a contemplative stroke of his white goatee. He tapped the floor with his shoe for effect. "But wait! My spectacles! Ze lenses are a most wonderful grind of glass, you see. With them on, the wearer can divine all sorts of magical aura's and enchantments. Ah! Alas and woe that you have them. For now, I am as blind as ze bat! Literally, as well as to the more esoteric arcane. I cannot read without them!" he complained. "Say, madame. Perhaps we should meet with ze...French Tart....as you said. If you could assure us of our safety with such a meeting? I would hardly like your mighty Iron fists in my fragile bones. Nor indeed would I much care to be transformed into a mouse or cursed with a pox!"
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"Zut Alors! The man is charmed to bullets!" decided Rene. "Unfortunately, I am not!" he realised, angrily, nursing the recent memory of being shot, and the present pain of just being stabbed in the shoulder. He unconsciously rubbed the Iron ring on his finger. As tough as iron, he told himself. Perhaps he needed to be tougher still. "And yet, there is no need to hurt you, Sir! We would just ask you questions! And walk away without being punctured by bullet and blade. I share the good Father's disinclination to violence!" and so was the truth. The horrors of the revolution were still painted into his skull. With a whip of his hand brought upright, like the growth of corn, a sapling sprung from the ground beneath the bandit, all wooden splinters, limbs, branches, like a basket or cage being grown around him.
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Ok so Rene will wrap him up in some trees: A snare (wooden!) descriptor, 1d20+8=15 if that hits, its a DC 16 Reflex Snare
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A few suggestions 1. Under caps defensively (PL 10)? 2. Blogger is all cool and up to date, but wont get you into Luis Lane type "On site" scrapes as much. Have a think. 3. Complications look a little spartan - not that thats a problem, but not masses to work on other than "who am I"? which is of course interesting! 4. Ave!
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Freddy whistled an exhale through his teeth. A good whistle too - his teeth had been pretty battered around and were wonky, although still resolutely in place. "Man, being shot sure is a bummer" he said, recalling his own adventures with the Mafia. He had been lead half dead with a good few bullet holes, bleeding in the gutter by a hitman. That's when he found out he could control his own blood. And saved his own life. "Dunno about taking it out though, a few knocks to the head is good for the soul" he grinned, whacking his head with a hammer fist. "But maybe not the brains, huh?" sighed Harry, rolling on his feet. "Head full of rocks, ya got, buddy. Still, damn handy when someones aiming a gun at yet head!" he joked. "Err..no offence, Lucy" he mumbled. "Guess your death scene kinda lingers. Kinda PTSD like" he said, findling with his tie, loosening it and tightening it nervously in rapid succession. "Still, what I was getting at was which dumb sucker pulled the trigger on you?"
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That hits - an you get the goo on the skin giving you a Fort DC15 Drain Constition Effect! (Also, could you add a link to your PC in your signature? Extremely handy!)
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Quick Mechanical Note: Transform Inanimate -> inanimate is 5PP/Rank (and sustained!) Yes, transform is expensive!
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Medicine Check for Bob. DC 5: He will live, he has an injury. DC 10:
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GM Big Bob groaned and sat up. His hair was singed, and his face a patchwork of black soot, grey dust, and angry red flesh. "What the hell was that?" he said, eyes glazed slightly as the ringing in his ears spun round his skull. "And where the hell are we?" he said, the cobwebs parting slightly. It didn't take much to realise the three of them were not in Kansas anymore. "I'm fine, lady...whoever you are. Take more than a gas explosion to hurt old...ouch!" he yelped as he stood up. It was then he noticed a shard of warped metal protruding from his stomach, bleeding at a brisk pace, into his apron and t shirt. He sat down again. "Holy bells! I'm skewered!" he moaned.
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GM "I'm still here!" replied Cruxberry over VERA's intercom systems. "General Cruxberry too, son!" he said, a little stiffly. "The Haven was supplied via the entrance you came through. That old door, it wasn't really closed so often. More a contingency. Not many knew of the Haven, we tried to keep it under wraps for the most part. Only the Ministry knew about it...and I suppose anyone the Vanguard told. Crusader and Headcase were always pretty reliable on that front, even if they were at loggerheads half the time. Y Dderwen and Lucy Diamond...well, they were less reliable. Truth was, the Ministry didn't trust them like the other two. Had tabs kept on them, although Y Dderwen was pretty impossible to keep tabs on..." "Anyway, I ramble. Supplied came in and out of the Haven. Only way in...except...well, if you haven't found it yet, I may as well let you know. Seeing as Freedom City was...is...the world centre for disasters on a global scale, and every type of alien and other dimensional interest. We built in a teleport shunt straight there. To allow instant access, so to speak. I suppose its possible that something came from Freedom City to Haven that way, but Headcase had that locked down good. Paranoid guy, but, well, Intelligence agencies like paranoia..." "Now can I get the hell in there? whats going on?"
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It does indeed!
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"Back from him?" gasped Carmen in cold shock. Her father was a man of considerable power and cunning. She had little doubt that he had had more skill in manipulating and binding demons than she had...although her birth tattoo was an advantage he did not have. Maybe he didnt need it. Where had he gone? killed, they said. Underground, cremated...not even Axel knew for sure, although he had sworn blind that her father had died. But would that stop him? From the way Axel spoke about his father, he was not exactly a bad man. A badass man, maybe. He lived life to the full, on the road with his gang. At his worst he probably knocked off a few shops, armed robbery, that sort of thing. No doubt got into a few fights with rival gangs or street thugs. Axel told the stories. But if there was one thing that was clear, is that he didn't like losing. He was looking after himself. His gang, and, briefly, his family, they were important to him. But he was the kind of man who would have left a loophole if he could find one. The Cantos Cane maybe? or even...herself? She felt the echo of him down her tattood spine. She was too shocked to move, for once. She just lay there, in the filthy street, jaw agape, as the mysterious smooth man took John away. "I'll get it back" she determined. "Although hell knows if I want it..."