Supercape

GM The Bullet hit Hatchet neatly in the neck. It was clear it was a fatal shot. But there was no pyrotechnic explosion of blood and gore. It was silent, slow, and chilling. A hoarse bubbling of his voice as he sank to his knees and blood soaked down his shirt. The clang of his notched machete hitting the wet street. Like death, the dying was punctuated by silence and absence. By withering rather than presence. "You...you...got me...you little rat...just like I...got ya...man..." *gurgle* He fell to the floor, hands to his throat in a vain attempt to keep blood and lungs working. "...But...you...never knew...why...did...ya?..." he struggled to spit out the words in one last act of defiance. "...Never knew...what card...he carried....and why...the jokes...on you...." he whimpered, as his eyes rolled back and he exhaled his last tombstone sigh.

"Dream's are ephemeral beasts!" replied Rene, turning on the lord of lies. "I suggest the Dream changes to fit the world, rather than the world change to fit your dream! Happiness lies not in having what you want, but wanting what you have!" He was quite pleased with the crystal focus of his mind in response to his rage, and the wisdom of the ages floating down to zen like delicacies spewed from his tongue. But it was not just wisdom he wished to dispense. No no, he wished to box Parsinkle on the nose. With a flourish, he painted magic onto reality. In this wond'rous realm, extravagances came more easily, with colour more vibrant. A large comedy boxing glove, propelled by creaking wooden hinges, flew straight towards the Fey...

Rene will turn, and Finally throw a blast at Parsinkle. Given the Fey realm, and his variable descriptor, he will make it a comedy expanding boxing glove! 1d20+12=14 A miss! (although it is homing!)

I dont think the water supersense would necessarily help in navigation - I could possibly buy a +2 situational modifier but it would be moot. Yes, she can look down! its pretty dark, the sea is black, but then she could certainly perceive the sea by her supersense even if she couldn't visually see it.

Right, so Hatchet is flat footed, no toughness roll and injured. This aint going to go well - 1d20+1=9, fail by 15, which means he is dying! Combat over at this point, IC post coming up!

1d20+10=15 and the Captain does not notice! Which means Tsunami is up!

Mess is activating alternate form. Ok, a bit dangerous leaving his body behind, but I am supposing that a liquid form travelling along the ceiling is less likely to get knocked out from banging into a wall in the darkness!

The Mess paused for a moment, catching the sound of voices. He strained his eyes, but it was no good. It was almost pitch black down here. He could just about make out vague sub-grades of blackness, but it only made his head hurt. If he ran down here, he would probably knock himself out at the speeds his pumped up legs would travel. It was a risk, but he really didn't want to leave his partner in trouble. He inhaled deeply, and then doubled over, blood streaming out of his mouth and nose in a vomiting motion. As he did so, his body shrivelled up until it resembled a dried up, dessicated corpse. The copious amount of blood he had expelled then stood up, a virtual, liquid simulacrum of the Mess himself, only made of liquid, red blood, a couple of feet high. The Mess, or rather the Homunculus stretched briefly and then leapt to the ceiling, slithering along by touch, at a startling speed...

Could I have a Stealth Roll for that? and is that the totality of your action this round?

1d20+5=18 as requested, Mess' Notice roll!

Carmen pumped her fist to the audience and pumped her blood full of adrenaline. How long had it been since she had played in front of an audience. Years. Too long. Well, she never really wanted to be a rock star, but she loved the power of rock. Damn, she was out of practice. She could play it safe, but... Life's too short for safe... She spat out a quick lick and fell into a heavy heavy power chord riff, fast, choppy and low, full of promise for Riff to do his work with more intricate fretwork and melody. But it had a groove, a hypnotic groove that caught the crowd. She half yelled, half sang into the microphone, full of abandon. It could have done with some auto-tune, but its very freshness was invigourating, and it didn't sound half bad...

Could I also have a Survival Roll DC 15 from you alls. Given the stormy conditions and low light, -2 to the roll unless you have some kind of compensatory super sense.

GM Meanwhile... The Captain looked at the juddering knives that had embedded themselves inches from him. "You raise the stakes, woman!" he said. "I'll not risk everything I have worked for. Not when I am so close and on course!" he said, scanning the instruments in front of him. Taking careful aim, he fired - once - twice - into the instruments, that exploded in smoke and sparks. "There! we are set on course now! nothing can stop us!" he said to Blod, as a Siren sounded in the ship, and a red flashing light appeared over them. Meanwhile, the Ship propelled itself quickly over the storm and waves. Whilst it was a powerful ship, it was pretty clear that the wind of the storm was propelling it forward, pushing it to even greater speed...

The Captain will blast the controls of the ship, and I will rule that they are damaged as a result. Round 8 25 - Blod - 1 HP 24 - Tsunami - Fatigued - Bound (Grappled) - 2 HP 21 - Crimson Tiger - Bruised - 4 HP 13 - Devil Ray - Bruised x2 11 - Free Booter - Injured, Disabled. , 750 feet away, out of sight. 11 - Captain - Unharmed Blod is up

GM The Devil Ray swooped down, through the rain and wind, and caught Tsunami in his vice like grip. The Servo motors of his Armor groaned, exerting their full power on her. Catching her by her wrists, he briefly stood on the deck of the ship, before blasting off into the dark night sky and thunderous rain above the ship. "Not so slippery now are you?" he laughed. "I have been hired to protect this ship, and that's what I'm going to do, no matter who is in my way!" he said, yanking Tsunami's face to his. "That little boat is loaded with enough explosives to tear apart a few city blocks. And its destined for OVERTHROW. That's right. I'm working for terrorists..." he goaded, his hands gently crushing Tsunami's as the wind and rain whipped through them both... Down below, the sparks coming out of the neck of the Freebooter subsided, and his eyes aligned themselves in parallel once more. "Discretion be the better part of valour, me hearties!" he sang, with a salute. He span on a heel, and with a hop, skip, and mighty jump, sailed off into the darkness in an impressive parabola.

So, Devil Ray Binds Tsunami in a Grapple, and will automatically beat that strength roll, thus sailing back into the air with her in his loving arms! to keep it relatively simple, Ill say he soars 100 feet into the air. The damaged Freebooter will Jump away: his Acrobatics Roll is 1d20+12=31 which adds 16 feet to base leaping distance. His base running leaping distance is 14 feet, so that is a neat 30 feet: then with Leaping 4 at x25, we have a nifty 750 foot jump away into the darkness!!!

"Billy, I don't like the look of that!" shouted Carmen, uncertain as to what the demons where up to, but succumbing to her natural instinct to be wary of them. It looked like they might explode. "Everyone, get out of here!" she ordered, with as much conviction as she could manage. "Grab Acheron! I'll hold them off! I know what I'm doing!" she explained, as she unleashed a wild flurry of bullets. Yeah, I DO know what I am doing...she shouted at herself to firm up her resolve. She ignored the sweat on her palms and forehead as she unleashed another round...

Ok, so lets just go for a straightforward attack to try and finish off the staggered demon: 1d20+10=14 pfah!

I was going to take 10, but I thought lets keep this interesting... 1d20+5=24, 1d20+5=23 wowzers! For Perform (Guitar) and Perform (Singing) - a Great performance on both counts!

"That's another neat trick..." said an irritated Lord Steam. "Confound that ladies..brilliance! she will be the ruin of me!" he smiled. "But is invigorating to finally have someone worthy to pitch my wits against! even if she is a woman!" He flipped his cane up to his hand. "Now, let's see what these simulacrum are made of shall we? rather well constructed, I will concede! lets put their engineering to the test, shall we?" he said, taking a few steps back, looking for an opening and giving none, before whipping the tip of the cane forward and then round, to test that very engineering.

Right, Lord Steam: Move Action: Feint at -5, 1d20+10=14 And a shifted -2 attack, +2 defence attack with his cane, on Oswald bot: 1d20+11=18 if by some chance that hits, its DC 20 Toughness. His defence is a total of +15 this round

"Marceau my friend!" called out Rene as loudly as he could through the wheeling chaos that exploded around them. The Fey, even at the most subdued of time, were not as silent and subtle as one would have wished for. Colours, screams, music, and - yes - blood danced and proliferated left, right, and centre. "As receiver of my most generous gift, I now command that you fight for the rebels against the most despicable Tyrant, Lord Parsinkle! Let his whip and chains be forever struck from this land, and every land!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the effort to be overheard above the mellee. He swung a few wild and ineffective blows as punctuation.

In case needed, Rene is trying to be stealthy! 1d20+1=17

Rene raised an eyebrow at the smoke. "Well done, young...err...well, sort of young lady..." he said, momentarily disorientated by the duality of Marianne's age. He wafted the smoke away - it was somewhat acrid. "Marianne - whoever you are - I dislike leaving you. I know you are much more than a little girl, but nevertheless, that is how you appear. And to an artist, appearances are everything!" he explained with a warm smile. "And yet it seems I must leave you in the hands of fate for now. I follow your lead, as you seem to be more wise than I in these matters. But scream, and I will come...." he said, trying without much enthusiasm to be reassuring. And then, he was gone, as silently as he can tracing his footsteps back to Madmeoiselle de Rennes. I dislike this. This smells bad, and not just the smoke from that burnt lock. I feel machinations and devices wheeling around me. I am a mouse in a trap...

"The Military look was so last decade" said Carmen, examining her gear. The gear covered her spine which was, she reflected, a good idea for her disguise, but she dearly hoped she wouldn't be facing any more demons, especially with Tazel out of her. Ironically, she felt naked. "All I need know is an AK-47. Which, now I think about it, might not be a bad idea..." she reflected. "IN any case, lets get going. Before Tazel causes more havoc than he strictly needs to. I don't trust him further than I can throw him. And its rather hard to throw a wisp of flame..." she explained. Waving her hand over to her motley crew, she pulled them down to the walk to the church. She did her best to walk stiffly to conceal her limp, but it was going to be obvious to anything more than a casual glance. She decided she would say she twisted her ankle or something if asked...