Supercape
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GM "If the power comes back on...yes..." said the agent, rather glumly. "A breach by Collapse, or one of his manifestations, does not bode well..." His companion was already trying to get her side arm to work, but it seemed it had been killed by the breach. "I hope you can handle what is coming through..." he said. "But just say you can...then yes, if the power comes back on, we can revert to using the artificial womb. The...uh...." he said, blustering. "You may experience some slight discomfort and nausea...and other effects..." he said, as he prepared the machine, and indicated for Velocity to lie on the med-bed. "Gosh isn't this exciting a real life baby well we always talked about one or did we perhaps we just skirted around the topic you know its kind of akward to bring these things up its so soon after all the problems and worries we had and after all we knew each other for years but only months with that gap of years but what is time anyway if there is one thing all this null zone superspeeding jiggery pokery wokery has taught us is that its all relative isn't it babe you are the best gosh how exciting" blabbered a seamless train of thought at full speed from Roberts mouth.
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Ok you are up, post away, you can narrate the mind control! We are out of combat.
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It will indeed! So we need an opposed roll: Your damage bonus vs their strength. I suggest you roll once for damage roll (can always use HP to reroll), their STR rolls are: 1d20+2=16, 1d20+2=11, 1d20+2=13, 1d20+2=14 For reference, the first roll is the leader (who is not a minion, an experienced hunter). The other three are also good hunters, but minions.
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Posted post fall. Hope a broken leg is a suitable descriptor!
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Crack! She landed badly. At least it wasn't her head. She was still conscious, she was still breathing. But even if John hadn't broken something, she was pretty sure she had. She had landed on her right leg. The nerve endings there were pretty shot, dulling sensation as well as causing paralysis. But even so, a split second of blinding pain well up to her eyes and she felt her vision constrict to black... ..and come back again. She was sprawled on the floor, blood on her cheek, bruised all over. Her ribs hurt, her arm hurt. Badly, but not, as a far as she could tell, broken. She had probably shot and strained all the muscled and ligaments in her legs. But worst of all, her right leg shouldn't bend like that. Not at all. She could only hope it was a break, not a shatter. And it hurt. Pennance for John... She crawled towards her target, everything hurting, but teeth gritted. I'm gonna do this...was all she could think. A flame of defiance, never out, was fuelling her.
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1d20+3=14 for the Hound, who will keep his mouth shut on the matter!
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Sorry for delay! Christmas plus personal family issues. First off, Im not sure you need an HP at all! as per core rules, you can attempt a disarm as a standard action - if you attempt to disarm with a ranged attack, you are at -4 on the attack roll. It seems reasonable to me to spend an HP to eliminate that penalty for the scene? (as a feat)
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Right, back on! Vahn, feel free for Hronos to have a power failure briefly as the Null Zone goes down. If you wish, you can become fatigued from the power drain and gain an HP. Also, by virtue of your super senses, and PLOT narrative, you can sense a severe temporal anomaly has entered the null zone and caused the power drain. Thev: Basically the time agents are proposing implanting the embryo in you! (its only a lump of a few dozen cells at the moment, not a big thing, before we get too icky and ethically wibbly wobbly). We don't have to go down that route of course, but its open. If you wish, we can have that operation cause a fatigue level, again, for an HP.
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GM Meanwhile... The Caretaker slumped, powered off, dying like an old mannequin, when the power failed. When the red haze came back to the null zone, only the faintest glint in his eye revealed he was active. "innnntruuuderrrr allllerttttt.....innnntruuuudeeerrr allllllerrrrtttt...." he said in a slow, flat voice, bereft of the Caretakers normal melodic tones. "Machines. Can't trust them" muttered John Smith, by Hronos side. "On the other hand, I don't much fancy the universe ending, tinribs" he said to Hronos. "So whatever this creature from the future is, I won't let him destroy the past and my wife..." he said, fiercely. "Let's get out of here and see what horror awaits us!"
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GM The agent looked at his readout for a brief moment. "The breach is coming overhead. Loosely speaking. That is, directly over the dome. But you have to understand that the null zone has very peculiar spatial and temporal dimensional qualities...oh!" A flutter of lighting, and the power went out, leaving them in darkness. After a brief moment, a dim red haze appeared, giving them the barest level of lighting. "The anomaly has shorted out the power systems. We are running on fading residual energetics..." he muttered, consulting the medical unit. "The embryo...won't survive in this unit. We only have a few minutes of basic power left..." he muttered, before turning to Velocity. "There is only one option...transplantation to a natural womb..."
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That will hit a flat footed barrel carrying gasman, go ahead and post a knock out. He had an off chance of saving, but.,.. 1d20+9=19 Also, apologies for being AWOL on this, personal stuff and Christmas. Ill try to get things back on track!
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GM The "Osprey" was, however, cold, and did need to breathe. And the air was cold, and getting colder. And thin, and getting thinner. His muscles convulsed, and went limp. His lungs were not full and rich enough to emit his husky croak, but he gave Young Brittania a look of black vision. There was something deeply powerful about the bird man. He was larger, stronger, and faster than Young Brittania, or the Osprey. And meaner, more deadly and violent. He was, however, very short in the brains department. He tumbled back to earth in a lazy, swooping arc, his wings held fixed, gliding back to England. Meanwhile... "That's the biggest goddamn bird I ever saw, or I ain't Big Nelson" whistled the man, his shotgun held limply in his hands as he saw the Aerial battle spiral off into the dark London sky. He whirled around to the Vanguard van, seeing the action of his ex-captive, Catalyst, and Synpase. "Hold it there, Osprey, and whoever your friends are. I ain't letting you go without saying toodle pip!" he sneered with a mock upper class accent, and pumping his shotgun for effect.
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Ok so sorry let this slide a bit, personal stuff at the same time as Christmas, back on track I hope! Thev feel free to post about Mind COntrolling Nelson and posse.
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On top of normal yuletide disruptions, my mother has had some semi-serious health concerns. Nothing terminal or dangerous, but she has been too the hospital a few times due to cardiac arrythmia - ill spare the details, suffice to say that whilst it is nothing to particularly worry about, one still worries, and I am dashing to and from my parents a lot - so little time (which is not the same as no time) for this 'ol place right now! Hopefully things will settle soon.
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How about auto failing that and playing into complication?
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Ok: So the Big T does actually fit into the whole mess, which I can reveal if you wish of course, I have had to put together some unlikely coincidences to ram the four of you together, but T is not total chaos. His INT and WIS are 6 due to his mind being bird like too, but he does have an agenda and fit into the relationship map with the whole osprey formula (somewhere in his addled mind!) As for Big Nelson and his crew, they are averaging around PL 4, and are not going to be a match for even two of you, let alone three of four, so I suggest we can narrate that either as defiance and Synapse mind controlling them, or as surrender. Up to you guys. Don't worry about derailing stuff YB - this whole thing has no rail, just vague plans, wherever you guys go, thats where this thread goes! Up to this point I have had to pull together a few bits of narrative unlikelihoods in order to get you guys together, but from this point on, the foursome are the foursome, and the sandbox is yours!
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Carmen did not stand on ceremony. The coldness of the room did not sit well with her. I'm a rock and roll reporter sitting in a dead house, in a dead dining room... ...with a dead family... She groaned to herself at the awful end to her train of thought. It was utterly grim and she was not without sympathy. But the wine was too tempting with that bleakness laying over the room like a black blanket. "Cheers" she said, brightly, and poured herself a glass to just over spilling point. She downed it like she was drinking a beer. "I needed that" she said, defiant of any disapproval. "If this is going to be the family's last night, you best not spoil it with cold words and sombre mood" she grunted. The wine's warmth hit her blood, and hit her brain. She felt her tongue loosen. "Damn this! I say live!" she said, as a toast. "Unless any of you have a death wish? Whether this curse fruits or not, lets make this evening alive and full of fight! this family seems so full of secret's and shadows it could be the FBI christmas party!"
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Ok so Tyullian is going to fly off. As we effectively have only YB and Osprey who are airbound, how do folks want to handle this? I am inclined to let Tyullian off but we could have an arial battle between YB and the T (not sure Osprey could get that high in time)
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The furious, kinetic storm of battle swirled around the Mess, and he loved it. His brain had taken a few to many knocks over the years, and he knew he wasn't the smartest tool in the box, but when it came to fighting and brawling, he had a knack, and all his dullness evaporated. Despite, or perhaps because of his pugulistic smarts, he figured this was getting to out of hand for regular brawling. The battle brothers didn't seem standard fighters either. This was super powered stuff. And needed a super powered retort. He summoned up his blood, which fizzed and churned, throwing his body into a spasm of power. His muscles swelled and engorged, his already block like figure become a sack of melons . So empowered, he cannonballed his way to the twosome.. "Say hello to lefty and righty" he grinned, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.
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Mess is going to spend standard action boosting to his full strength, and then run (at turbo speed!) to the Two Battle Brothers!
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"Go to hell!" whispered Pitch, her face black with despair. "If people get hurt, its not for lack of me trying. Even if I fail. Even if I fall" she said. And with that, she tumbled off the building to John. It was, she told herself, the only way to get to him fast enough. She couldn't wait to limp down the stairs, to get to him, or a phone. But part of her wanted to jump, to end it all, to just be rid of the whole rotten mess, to stop her hurting herself, to stop her hurting everything around her. She felt a black numbness in her. She wasn't prone to suicide, or depression, but right now, she felt the words of the past hours eat her skull, and poison her. Right now, part of her felt empty, numb, and gone...
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Ok, well lets go for it! Jumping off the building and hope she is tough enough to stand the fall! With Tazel out of her that's a bit of a long shot, toughness only +2, but 1D20+2 => 10 well that's pretty bad, might knock her out, but hey, it plays into the whole despair emotion thing too!
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The Mess was pretty pleased with himself, but he had been in enough brawls to not let his guard down. He never underestimated a fighter. But he never showed it either. "Games up, buddy" he laughed at the Riveter. "You gots a whole heapa questions to answer, and that jaw of yours is gonna get some good oiling" he said with a wink. Looking around, he hefted up a steel girder, and flexing his arms until it looked like they might pop, the super powered blood in them fizzing with energy, he bent it straight into a u shape. The impressive display of strength may have looked good, but the weapon, intended to grip the Riveter, was unwieldy to say the least, and the Mess clumsily handled it, almost tripping over himself in the effort.
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So Mess is going to grab some steel girder and try and bend it around the Riveter! 1D20+10 => 11 flunking the attack roll, so I guess we dont need to work out how to mimic that attack (I would have said use a snare attack!)
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GM Willis shuffled his feet. He was obviously a stickler for rules, despite his goodwill to the pair. He took pride in his job, and was probably good at it. "Well..." he said, slowly, not looking them directly the eye. "It's damn wrong, ya know. Damn wrong. I'll be hung drawn and quatered for this. If you gets eaten..." he whistled between his teeth. "But then again, you pretty much saved this zoo, and me. And you are superheroes, so I guess you wont get eaten. But you gotta make sure you don't hurt the animals?" he said, carefully. "My job, ya see! its not just making sure the animals are safe from the tourists, its also the other way round. Crocodiles, lions, snakes. Well they can be mighty dangerous, f'shure...but you'd be surprised how dangerous we are them" he said, with concern. "So just be careful. No lightning bolts, or laser bombs, or anything like that" he said, with a smile that tempered his worry. "Here you go then" he said, unlocking the gate and letting them both into the swamp complex, which was an assault on eyes, ears, and nose. Its was fetid, damp, and artificially heated. Not a tolerable place to be for long. Buzzing insects swarmed around them, and their feet sank slowly into the mud and ooze under them.