Supercape
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Also as discussed in chat, morphing to dog form as a free action at the end of that.
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Harry looked left and right at the top of the stairs, and then felt the top of his matted hair, slick with sweat. The fist of his pursuer had passed over it and knocked his hat off. "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses would ya?" he squealed, forgetting he wasn't wearing glasses. He couldn't see any obvious exit. He was like a cornered rat - and a cornered rat had to fight back, even if it was just for a moment. "I'm a lover, not a fighter!" he blurted, lying through his teeth. He was neither. "And I love you!" he said, falling to his knees in a desperate bluff. That put the macho fool of his guard - for he sprang back up and gave a mighty push that sent his aggressor tumbling back down the stairs - and out of eyeshot. Harry didn't waste the chance. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, and a shaggy mongrel dog stood in his place. "Woof woof" he said, in rough English. Hopefully he wouldn't be recognised. And if he was, he could run faster.
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Okay: Move Action, Bluff / Feint at -5. I will skill mastery that for a result of 15. Okay, lets go for a modestly shifted attack, -2 on the attack, +2 on the DC. 1d20+8=15 Not a great attack. So, if that misses, I will reroll spending Messes HP - because pushing a dude down a flight of stairs is to cool to miss. 1d20+8=21 should hit. Opposed roll, he will use Dexterity: with a +4 bonus due to his feats and +2 bonus for shifting. 1d20+8=14 is pretty rubbish, unfortunately. If I have an HP left over I will reroll that 1d20+8=16 with the +10 bonus for rolls under 10 is much better, at 26. He opposes with worst of acrobatics (untrained) or strength.
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So, if we are at the top of some stairs, can Hound try to trip his attacker (push him down the stairs)?
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GM Mindy, Mandy, And Melanie had gone into the fabulous miracle patented insta-weight loss cream booth, and came out wrapped in cellophane and smeared in a green goo. "Wow this is fabulous! I feel slimmer already!" said Mindy, sipping on a full fat frappocino. "You got it ladies!" said the store owner, clicking his fingers into a pointed single finger and giving them a wink. The man was likea 50s ad man, a tall, thin, handsome man, with slick black hair and a perma tan. He had a long, intelligent face and a sharp suit. "Don't ever say Mr. Swish don't work miracles!" he finished, giving them another wink and thumbing the impressive wad of money he had made off them. Jeesh, who would have thought I could not only get rid of this muck cheaply but make a killing on it too! "This is gonna be awesome!" smiled Mandy, emitting jazz hands in excitement. None of the three girls needed any weight loss except if they planned to do some modelling of the borderline-starvation look. "It sure is honey, it sure is! You girls just relax and wait for a whole new you. I gotta go and get some..ah...new supplies" smiled Mr. Swish, ducking back into his booth. I gotta go get outta here before this stuff kicks in!
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Battle Brother A! Flip a coin!
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GM The hulking form of the Mess, bristling with swollen muscles, looked much more intimidating. He sized up the opposition. Even whammed up with his blood... "I like a challenge" he said defiantly, and truthfully. Thing was, there was a limit even to his bravado. Things were getting out of control here, and he wondered just how stupid he was going to be. Just how much could he take on? People were gonna get hurt. And here he was pumped up full of bravado and a boxers ego. These thoughts whizzed through his brain, seeping regret, but he didn't have time for it. He stepped up, stepped sideways, and launched an uppercut. But the nagging feeling that he was doing this for his ego rather than to help people made him half hearted and he knew it. These boys were trained fighters. As good as him. And he knew he didn't have to try and hit them, he could just mash up their blood, give am a bruising from inside that they couldn't dodge or duck or weave. All that stopped him was his sense of pride.
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No shifting here, just a straightforward attack on one of the battle brothers. Move Action: A Feint: 1d20+5=15 Standard Action: Punch inna mouth: 1d20+10=16 Rather mediocre!
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Ok whilst the Collapse manifestation has not quite entered the Dome/Zone yet, we have an enraged T-Rex to contend with. Lets have initiatives all around please, although Velocity still in the Med lab and not quite yet in the fray. J. Smith 1d20+8=23 T-Rex 1d20+1=7 We are in thick Jungle type foilage, which gives ample cover for stealth etc (+2 situational bonus). Also, the breach has dropped the temperature to cold conditions, and the monsoon rain is distracting DC 5. Unlikely to be major problems, but still.
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GM Meanwhile...outside the dome... Hronos and Smith emerged from the dim Red Light of the Null Zone to a frosty reception. The sky was the wrong shade of blue, and the air was full of cold hard rain, despite the temperate forest around them, vibrant with green warm life. Up above them, in the distance, a distortion, painful to look at, was descending. It was hard to judge the distance - perhaps because past the breach in the Null zone there simply was no dimensions. The Null Zone existed outside normal time and space. A violent roar emitted from beside them. One of the cyborg T-Rexes, its control systems down - or worse - from the breach, was charging at the pair... "Reminds me of when we first met..." said Smith. Adrenaline and fear were in his voice, but he was a master of his fear. He dived for cover, melding into the scenery like a man with millenia of hunting experience would have...
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Harry barely heard or saw the sound of crunching fists and knees behind him, although in his minds eye he saw plenty of broken noses, and the slow motion images of powerful fists slamming into shattered teeth. He was drenched in sweat, and kept on glancing behind him. His worst fears were realised as he saw and heard pursuit. Years on the force had taught him how to handle himself in a fight. But he was past fourty and past his prime. And his fear simultaneously made him a dangerous fighter and one who seriously doubted his own ability. He launched himself up the stairs in a state of panic, searching for an exit or a hiding place, and covering himself, ready to throw himself away from any kick or punch that might come his way.
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Harry is going to carry on bolting, looking for any exit. He will use his move action to run, and standard action to use defence (pushing his total defence to +18!)
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GM "Like where? The Null Zone...the dome...its the safest we have..." blurted the agent, a trace of panic despite his tracing. His companion, the dark woman, put a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was stiff with fear but she glanced at Velocity with the memory of empathy. "I'll sedate him. Keep him out of trouble..." she said, putting an advanced hypodermic gun to his arm. Robert stopped his babbling for a moment - cutting off his wandering curved diatriabe about the nature of reproduction in Scottish small mammals and how it implausibly connected with the nature of the universe - and gave Velocity cow eyes. "Sedate me? But Honey you are in danger and our kid I cant let you go I dont want anything bad to happen what if I am asleep and something bad happens you cant let them sedate me I want to be there for you let me go instead you are number one I love you and I love our baby and you mustn't do anything now and let me go and dont go and let me be with you" he burbled like a broken record... The dark woman looked at Velocity, asking for her permission with her eyes, the hypodermic gun still pressed on the passive and zany Roberts arm.
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GM Rost was hard at work on her laptop, where her nervous energy translated to a rapid typing speed. Her fingers flew across the keyboard so fast, it seemed to hum. "Hypothesis, Hypothesis. Aggression? Accident? Too soon to tell. But we have a danger, in any case. If the channel tunnel collapses, its a disaster. We need to close it down..." she said. "Which will be politically hot, to say the least. Which translates to heat on us to get this fixed. And, bingo! we have another sighting..." she said, as an alert flashed up on her laptop. "Outside the tunnel this time, not far, but a relief. Another flash of light and smoke. In..." she peered closely through her glasses. "...Big Bob's Bangers..." she said, a voice pregnant with sneer, thanks to a diet of vegan health food that maintained her fabulous beanpole figure. She was obviously a health fascist. "Lets go. Ill wind up Frankenbolts to take us there..."
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"They left because they knew something" answered Carmen, pretty sure of herself. There was no other explanation to hand, and clearly something had spooked them. A fire was bad, but not enough to make a whole village up and leave on its own. "Maybe they knew what caused the fire. Maybe it was no accident" That would be the best guess. "Well, I don't think we can get much more from this place" she said, a little disappointed. Still, they were getting somewhere. "Following in the footsteps of master Phelegthon, whoever he might be. I wonder if we should check out that cave...although I'm not looking forward to the hike" she said, feeling exhausted.
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editted last post
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You want to post that IC? or shall I?
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"Jackpot!" said Pitch. She was a restless soul, not one for scrutinising text endlessly. But to a degree, it came with being a Journalist. Her job was not all about going to rock gigs and interviewing people. Admittedly, a lot was, but she did actually have to do a bit of writing now and again. And even some reading. She dusted down an old table and put the book down, gently - as if the accumulated ash and destruction of the building might infect the book. Paper was a fragile think, after all, and the records were not new. "The Lamant family. Some geneology, perhaps?" she asked the crew around her. Carefully she turned the pages, devouring and studying the documents, to see if any clue could be extracted. One name caught her eye. Maria Ambrosia Phelegethon. The surname was an invitation to wonder. She was the wife of Jean-Louis Lamant, the last mayor of the deserted village they were in, St. Blaise. Married in 1930, with two sons, Felipe, born in 1932, and Georges, born in 1936. "A long time ago" she said, carefully closing the book. "But, relations of our mystery man? and how distant?" she asked the questions. "I wonder why this village was abandoned? any records on that?" she asked the crew.
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1d20+10=30 Bananas! its a rollercoster!
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Right then! She can find some clues: Fragments of what look like explosive (metal shards) From the Physical Science Check this looks like a ground based explosive that flew upwards. It was not designed to cause structural damage to the tunnel, so either it was random, for another purpose or incompetent. In addition, the blast pattern and damage all points to a "flash" effect, as if a powerful explosion was briefly brought to this dimension from another one.
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Carmen merely grunted. This was word play, and she didn't want to listen to it. Instead, she just focussed on dragging herself to John. "Well, kid" she answered the youth. "Whatever I say, you are just gonna twist back at me. I guess you got more practice than me at that, ain't ya?" she explained, as she hauled herself to John. What the kid had said might be true, but she just had to clam her mind up. The truth could twist people just as hard as lies. Harder, sometimes. "Just go and jabber on, please yourself. I'm sure you like the sound of listening to yerself. I won't be" she determined. The more she responded to the kid, the more he would respond back. He was an infernal troll, she decided. She pulled John, tugged at him. "John, John, wake up, man. Its time to wake up!" she said, slapping his face - probably harder than she should have.
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So feel free to make Search checks on the damage, and to make another Knowledge (Physical Sciences Check) to assess the blast damage. DC is 20 for both. Of course, other actions are possible!
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GM Dr Rost waved her hand at the driver. "Old Frankenbolts? Well, he is just for us to tinker with down at the Ministry lab. Some of his parts even come from the original Vanguard Haven, you know. Perfectly safe. No weapons. Just a bit of fun really" "I am pleased to service of" said Frankenbolts, smiling cordially and speaking with a buzzing voice inbetween the occasional spark "And, I can inform you that we are about to enter the Dover Channel Tunnel facilities, having made time good. I hope your journey was a one comfortable" he finished. "We never managed to work out the transposition of words at the end of the sentence" said Dr Rost. "To be honest, none of us really want to now..." she said wistfully. The Dover site was shut off by police, but Rost, Frankenbolts and Synapse could slip in without any fuss. It was a short journey, and one that required the emergency lighting, to enter the tunnel itself, and survey the damage caused by the explosion.
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The driver is basically a functional robot / andriod, a bit quirky and malfunctioning, but passable and efficient nevertheless. The design and systems all look pretty good, but it falls into the "experimental prototype" field of technology. Its high tech, but unreliable. No signs as far as she can see of military or combat applications. Just a plan old butler, the sort that could hang around in an HQ, for instance.
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I...think...this all adds up! APPROVED!