Supercape
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GM The men clambering out of the van were somewhat slow, perhaps because of their overalls, helmets, gas masks and headphones, which must have limited their field of vision and certainly their hearing. They acted more like mindless zombies than trained soldiers. Having said that, they strode into the gas without fear. And perhaps with justification. All five swung the barrels of their heavy weapons at Paragon, and unleashed a thin stream of chemical spray - a vivid pink colour, as it so happened, at Paragon. The men were by no means crack shots, and the chemical spray swung wide most of the time. Where it landed, it hissed and bubbled, eating through metal, pavement, and cutting a neat dissection of the poor hot dog stand. The loudspeaker through which the rambling preacher had been extolling the virtues of kipper oil caught a glob, too, and it promptly fizzed and exploded, to nobodies great lament. Stargazer caught one gun's full eject straight in his might chest, and his nostrils caught the full smell of acrid smoke...
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Round 1 20 - Gasmen [5] Unharmed 16 - Graft, Unharmed, 3 HP 13 - ? 5 - Starchaser,Unhamed, 2 HP We have the potential for civillians in the way, so HP may be awarded for that. The chemical spill is still leaking. Also, you may, if both parties agree, play into Grafts monstrous form complication, and have Starchaser jump to a conclusion that the alien tentacle thing is a horrible threat. This might be an error made in the heat of the moment, but if you both wish it, it can be made so and we can have a round of Starchase lashing out at Graft for an HP to both of you. As this is a sensitive issue it must be with both of you giving permission. In any case, the Gas men will unleash a chemical spray attack on Starchaser, as he acted first! 1d20+4=24, 1d20+4=14, 1d20+4=11, 1d20+4=20, 1d20+4=13 and despite them being rather clunky, we have one crit and one basic hit. The chemical spray is effectively autofire, and starchasers defence is 15 (Being generous and saying he is not flat footed!) therefore the first hit has a bonus of +4 damage, and the second one has a bonus of +2 damage. The base DC is 23 (Damage 23) and +5 for the crit of the first one. Starchaser therefore has two toughness saves to make! DC 31 for the first spray (yikes!) and a mere 25 for the second! a nasty surprise for the costumed hero! Then, Graft is up!
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Done!
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Right we had better have some initiative rolls from people, please! ? 1d20+5=13 Gas Men: 1d20+1=20
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GM John's eyes positively glinted when he saw the watch. "That?...that is the original stopwatch? my my..." he breathed out, lost in the moment, which lasted several seconds whilst he admired the timepiece. "Forgive me. It is beautiful. It is rare you see such power melded with such beauty, such charm. It breathes antiquity, does it not?" he said, not really asking a question. "My breathe leaves body. Ah, what wond'rous artifice!" he smiled, full of joy! "Would that I had forged such a piece myself! I am envious, yes! envious!" he said. "May I examine it? Even looking at it, my work on the prototype fragment now falls into new and sharper focus. Mysteries of its ways now sunder to fresh perspective!" he said, enraptured by the ticking of the watch.
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Scooby Doo Spooky! She couldn't hold back a slightly hysterical laugh. She was getting panicked now. This was like a horror movie. Something, or somebody, was messing with her head. She crouched down and clamped her hands to her head. Get a grip! Focus! The only thing to fear is fear itself! She would grab any cliche she could right now. She wasn't even halfway composed, but she stood up and walked to the door. "Be right there..." he said, taking a deep breath in and breath out. Be bold. Show them who is boss! she screamed at herself. They weren't going to kick her around. She flung open the door. Fast.
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Ok, we may need a Sense Motive Roll for Asad, DC 20 And, presuming Havoc is following Boomstick (and being Stealthy), a Stealth roll. Of course, if he wants to flunk his Stealth roll deliberately but look like he is trying to be stealthy, thats a bluff roll!
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GM Meanwhile...on the Roof of the Jefferson Hotel... Swinging on the Zipline had been exhilerating at least. Now Boomstick and Havoc were on the top of the Hotel. Boomstick pointed to a ventilation duct. "Easy does it soldier. Here's the deal. I don't know which of those Afghan' has been brainwashed. Which puts us in a bit of a tricky position..." he said, bringing out some plastic explosives. "I got the place wired last week, got key places primed and ready to blow. When it comes to detonation, I'm an expert. Pre planning is the key. Now, I can't go and blow the hold building, just exits, entrances, the garage, certain rooms. The problem is, how to isolate our enemy and keep them isolated...I'm not taking down any War Vets..." The man seemed to be ignoring any idea of burden of proof, but on the other hand, he had clearly had this all prepared. "Now, we need to sneak in, and start monitoring the place, you got me? How's you black op's experience?" he asked, giving a wink, as he slid down the Ventalation shaft.
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GM Private Timbers was genuine, as far as Asad could tell, all good heart. Kabir was smoother, and edge of restraint on him. As well there should be, he had to balance one of the most difficult political jobs in the world. Saeeda, on the other hand. She had an edge of bitterness. She tried to disguise it, but she had none of the subtleties of Kabir, even when she was steered by him. She had lost her eyesight because she worked with the Americans. And that was a struggle for anyone. She tried to smile, but it was wan. She tried to be upbeat, but she was clearly sour. "Every day I wake up dreaming of the light and the fire, and facing darkness in the day" she said, the words like broken wheels on a broken cart. "For what good I did...I cannot say I wish I hadn't taken the job" she said, a steel smile on her face, painted on. Behind her sunglasses, one had difficulty reading her face. It wasn't a pretty sound, though. Kabir tried to smooth things over. "You see the damage, the lives ruined, Asad..." he shrugged. "It's the face of these problems we have to expose..." he shrugged. "Not easy to show..." he said, almost apologetically, and guided Saeed away. She used a stick herself, but did not object to his gentle guidance. Timbers whistled. "Yeah. Not easy, but those translators, they saved us out there. We can't leave them behind..."
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Ok feel free to post away! Currently the "terrorists" are being gripped by Glow, Jack Jackson is snapping pictures, and Towers is walking away on his super-stilts to his next "crisis"
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Carmen strained to hear anything, but nothing was all she could hear. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the Television burst to life. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest or explode. A film of sweat iced her body almost instantly, in a sickening drench, and for a moment she felt she was going to lose the real (as opposed to infernally unreal) contents of her stomach. She sank to the floor, leaning against it, clutching her chest. It's not real, it's not real. they can't touch me. Not whilst that damned tattoo is there...There was some comfort in that. No demon could burn her with that on her. Still, they could scare her real good it seemed. Jump her. She was rattled and angry. Screw this. I'm in a hotel, I'm rock and roll, and I'm angry... She was no muscle woman, but she was strong, and in shape, and, angry, it was no problem to tear the offending TV out of the wall socket, and throw it out of the window. "Hell yeah baby! Rock 'n Roll!" she shouted defiantly, through her very real fear.
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To kick off: We are going with a slight case of convenient fortune here, with both Graft and Starchaser witnessing this event. If you witness it as your secret I.D (commuting from work) you may take 1 HP for a complication. As you need to nip off to change, or otherwise you will be hampered. The Knockout gas is a 40' cloud of Gas propelled by mystery men. If you enter it, its a Fort 18 Save (Stun Effect) with Sleep Extra. Its effectively Cloud Area and for now the mystery men are carpet bombing the area to make sure everyone is asleep. The toxic chemicals are more dangerous. This is straight caustic chemical, a Damage 5 Effect with the Secondary Effect extra, and will cause lethal damage. No civiliians are in its wake yet, but it will not be long as the chemicals are seeping out of the truck. Feel free to make Knowledge (Physical Sciences) rolls to get an understanding of the Chemicals in the truck as it is labelled: DC 5: You recognise the hazard sign! DC 10: Its a caustic chemical. DC 15: You understand its potency (Damage 5, lethal) DC 20: You have an idea how to neutralise it.
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OOC for thread. Graft and Starchaser hit the ground running with some mad scientist driven by self preservation.
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GM Friday 1st October, 15:07pm The Beginning of Rush Hour... A busy street... It happened in a flash. The truck was stuck in traffic, beeping its horn in frustration. But then, lots of people where stuck in traffic and beeping horns in frustration. This was Friday evening rush hour. Freedom City was the city of heroes, but for all its super powers, it was not immune to traffic congestion. The truck was marked full of hazardous chemicals. And then, it got hit. Three. No four. No five men, marching out a nearby van, in full orange jumpsuits, headphones, and gas masks, and wearing heavy rifles, fired - gas grenades it looked like. Knockout gas. Everyone fell asleep - pedestrians, drivers, the hot dog salesman at the corner, the street performer playing "The Ace of Spades" on a rubber band and a smoked kipper, and the preacher with a megaphone and a particularly individual interpretation of the old testament that did not hold him back from telling the world of his unique revelations. All of them hit the floor, snoring heavily. Cars swerved into one another, crashed. Alarms sounded, and injuries - from minor to more severe, peppered the streets. And one car crashed into the Truck. The chemicals started flowing freely into the street. An unpleasant smell to say the least, and from the warning signs on the truck, a toxic one too...
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GM Meanwhile, outside the Jefferson Hotel... Boomstick had planned well. Very well. Havoc and he had set up a vantage point above the hotel, on a rooftop of a high rise that was undergoing maintenance. The Van was parked nearby and Havoc had been pressed ganged into hauling some equipment up. Binoculars, weapons, grenades of all types, remote triggers, the works. And most impressively, a zip-line cable shooter for them to travel to the roof of the Excelsior. "Well Havoc, I know you have your own weapons" said Boomstick, indicating the cyborgs arms "But I'm more conventional. Feel free to borrow if you want" he said, strapping his submachine gun around his chest. "I got word from Afghan. See, the Vets here are doing a good deed, but they have been duped. One of the Afghan's they invited over has been brainwashed by OVERTHROW. Turned coat, so to speak. A perfect mole. Now they are inside, they are gonna blow the place...." his face grew to a steely frown. "Can you imagine..." he shook his head. "So today, we are going to dismantle that overthrow cell. Explosively. Teach them a lesson. We get over there, locate the OVERTHROW agent, and boomstick their operation" he said, blunty. He took up the zipline firing line, aimed, and... thzzzziiiiiippppp..... "Ladies first, soldier" he said, his first trace of humour, handing Havoc the first piece of rope to swing down onto the roof of the Excelsior.
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GM Amir was guided away by Mohammed mid some rather bland conversation with the Chesterfields about Yachting. Mohammed was polite and demure, and somehow had a knack at social ju-jitsu. "Amir, come here, I have some people I would like you to meet..." They were an interesting threesome. Private Will Timbers was your average grunt with a big heart. He had been unlucky, caught a bullet in the back, and too close to the spine, left in a wheelchair. He now campaigned for better after care for those soldiers wounded in action, and in an even more heroic spirit, for better care for the Afghan's who aided the Americans in the war and needed asylum or medical care themselves. He was a hero, and pretty much nobody had a bad word to say about him. Accompanying him were two Afghan's. Kabir, a local part time polititan, part time imam, who had been flown over, and Saeeda, a translator for the armed services, who had caught an improvised explosive device full on and left her blinded - a typical case the American War Vet society was championing this year - and it must be said with considerable success, despite some degree of uphill struggle. Kabir spoke passable English, whilst Saeeda's was much better. TImbers gave Amir a hearty salute and shook Amir's hand. "Thanks for coming, Sir. Mean's a lot someone like you coming. Beats our regular fund raisers, y'know? Not that I would say a bad word about them, but this year we want to do something a bit special for the Afghan's who helped us and worked with us side by side. We don't want to forget them. People like you, well, they help break down the prejudice, if you know what I mean?" he said, full of enthusiasm.
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John's face seemed bored with pretence. He was clearly darkened himself with Velocity. "Major problems always happen. Who are you to judge what is major and what is minor? The suffering I witnessed, it certainly was not minor to me" he said. His voice was full of warmth - not anger, but full of love. An altogether more dangerous emotion. "How easy it is to bear other people's pain, is it not? and then tell them what problems are major and minor" he smiled. "This null time sounds very interesting. A sanctuary, perhaps. A purgatory, some might say, is safety worth such disconnection? I wonder. But, yes, your description of this null time...it would explain a lot. It would explain a lot of the problems I had with the fragment..." he said, as the pieces fell into place in his head. "Well then, for love! Shakespeare would be proud, would he not? Perhaps we should pay him a visit and ask him to write a play about this whole romance. It would be magnificent!" he smiled. "Let us be away then. I am your humble servant. I believe I can take you to this Null time. If you give me access to the fragments, the prototype, or better still, the stopwatch..."
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1d20+10=14 not so good! Let the horror commence! And yeah if we both fancy some complication of a fawning metal head groupie causing more problems, lets roll with it! your call!
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Ok I have taken a few liberties with that last post, I know (for the sake of momentum) like having a room next door to Johns (hey, I want to take advantage of that awesome bluff roll!) Let me know if you want any alterations or retractions, and I will throw you a pathetic notice roll on the off chance... 1d20+6=8
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Carmen walked up the stairs, heart beating fast. This is Rock n Roll...seedy hotel, groupie, undercover reporter... She could get used to this. She opened the door to her room, not caring about its mediocre dressing and standards. It saved on cash, anyway - which, whilst not in short supply was a bit hit and miss. She took off her Jacket and threw it on a beaten chair. He cropped top showed off more of that damned tattoo down her spine, protection and ward. The room she had chosen was next door to John's. She picked up a slightly dirty glass from the washroom and placed it on the wall, to see if she could hear anything...
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GM "Modern society has gained much, but forgotten the primal reality of humanity" answered John with complete confidence in regards to Velocities question about Hronos. "I don't forget" he added simply. He offered Velocity a cup of tea, paused, then, with a mocking smile, offered Hronos a power socket. "A Stopwatch, did you say?" he said, after considering Velocities words a while. "That would certainly make sense. I studied the fragment for many years. I always appreciated it was but part of a whole, but never what that whole was. Elegant, I must say. Poetic, too. You would not understand, metal man" he said, once again dismissing Hronos. "Yes, yes, I can help you" he said keenly. "But let me ask you this, why is that machine allowing this? It defied my wishes to help my beloved. And now it helps yours? this smacks of injustice!" he said, angrily. "I imagine it believes that snatching your friend was a perversion of the time stream, one it has to correct, whereas my crusade, to save my first love, my family and my tribe, from the misery of disease and starvation that chained the age, was a perversion in the first place. Ah yes! How noble a sentiment! One must, of course, allow suffering if it preserves the time stream!" he snarled sarcastically. "But I am moved to romance and love, Velocity. If I can save your beloved, I will..." he explained, smiling once more.
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.... .... A couple of screams and gunfire????? Carmen took a deep breath. She only had herself to blame. Tazel's nature was to twist words. There was no use in exploding at him. He was but a tool, a powerful one at that, but it was playing with dynamite. She strode out of the Monastry brazen as brass. Thank you for your service. Back in the cage, now! she commanded, legs akimbo with a fierce look on her face and deep frown in her eyes. She opened wide to swallow Tazel back into her bones. Now fire me up! I feel the hail in my blood, and I want warming. She commanded, as the smoke and wisps of flame once again surrounded her, and the studs of metal and bronze adorned her clothing. "Lets get moving sailors! Archeron's place is not far!" she called out to the men and women back in the Monastry as she swallowed the bile, and ignored her spinning mind - which conjured up all sorts of horrible images about what might have happened....
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ic Earth Victoriana: The Face of Politics
Supercape replied to Supercape's topic in The Realms Beyond
GM "Damn straight!" "Right on!" "Down with the toffs!" "Smash the gears!" The place nearly broke into applause, but Cannonade had to do with a round of congratulatory pats on the back and fists in the air, and similar sentiments voiced in stock phrases. "Look, you sound like just the kind of man to join the Luddites! Big, Strong, able to smash up machines, burn down the factories and give work back to the common folk" said one of the men he had been addressing, a fat dirty man with an enormous moustache, went by the name of Slim Jim. Clearly the Luddites had a sense of humour. Not a very advanced one, but still. 'Ol Slim Jim leaned close and addressed him in a lower voice. "'Jus so 'appens 'ol Ned himself is upstairs! Hows about you and I go and see him? 'Es always on the lookout for a man with a stout heart and a strong arm?" -
1d20+12=31 which should do the trick! although you can add a +4 for attractive if it counts!
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"Metal Man, I couldn't care two dollars about you. You aren't human. Just a toaster with ideas above its station" said John Smith dismissively. As Oscar Wilde said, if there was one thing worse than being spat at, it was not being spat at. John Smith didn't even consider Hronos worthy of his eye contact, let alone anger. He was just a machine that had got in his way. "Velocity...I have heard of you" he said, smiling at the speedster. "You, I can talk to. On account of being flesh and bone and soul. Please come in". It was not clear whether he included Hronos in the invite. Possibly, he simply didn't care. "You are not intruding" he said, relaxed and calm, and making himself some tea - nothing exotic but good quality. "I take pleasure in inviting you in. Fascinating to meet you" he said. He sat down, and crossed his legs. "The device, as you call it, I believe is legally mine, and I intend to challenge the charges placed against me by the machine you are with. I understand societies caution, but it has been in my possession for some considerable time, and I am well versed in its properties. It seems to me an interesting legal issue. After all, the government hardly seems to deprive every superhero in Freedom City of dangerous items does it? even if they are nuclear powered battlesuits? hmmm?" "I believe I have a good chance of legally recovering my property, and I am a patient man. But you intrigue me, what would you want this device for? what do you know of its nature?" Despite his calm, there was a glint in his eye, of fierce intelligence and the cunning of countless centuries.