Supercape
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"Head's up!" said the Mess, possibly a little too loudly. But, after all, the sound of metalwork was somewhat overpowering. He jabbed a stubby finger in a straight line towards the large man. "I ain't the smartest tool in the box, I'll give ya that" he conceded. "Took a few too many knocks to the head when I was a tearaway kid. Prob'ly taking too many knocks to the head still. But I'll bet you ten dollars that guy is the Riveter!" he proclaimed. "Got word on this guy. Big man, nasty work. Messed up a few too many people on the streets - including some guy in hospital right now. I promised I would bring this guy down. give him a one way ticket to the slammer. And I aim to keep that promise!" he snarled. "Guy got a reputation, I'll give him that. Can handle himself real well. But, I ain't doin' this cos its easy!"
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The Mess crucnhed his inflated shoulders behind him. "Jeez, you are one slippery son of a gun..." he moaned, still defiant. He cast his eyes about to see the frantic whirlwind of melee on what seemed to be every side. He wasn't alone, he knew that much. He couldn't stop to work out who was friend and foe right now. "Back away!" he shouted at some of the costumed mooks. "This guy is mine!" he roared, looking straight at the Golden man. He took a lunge to the left, and to the right, and came up with a mighty hefty uppercut that would have thrown the man to the skies. "One DAMN slippery son of a bitch!" he cursed. The man was faster, and probably smarter than he was.
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Ok, Mess isn't going to worry about the small fry right now. Move Action: a Feint. 1d20+5=14 not spectacular. And then a straight up smash. 1d20+10=12 Let stick with that awesome fail!
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Freddy stepped nervously into the ring. It was all so familiar, but he disliked this. He knew well enough how to fight, and was confident enough. It was more that he didn't want to fight - he felt his mutant abilities gave him a terrible advantage. So for now, he cooled his blood, letting its power wane and keeping it in check. He would face whoever he was matched against as a man. Admittedly, he was still built like a brick. What he lacked in reach, he made up for in a powerful frame loaded with slabs of muscle. He looked like he had hit the steroids more than a few times, but it was just a result of his squat form and hours at the gym pumping away. "Ah'm ready. Send your stiff in..." he gestured at the compere - he wasn't entirely sure what the rules were. But for now, he would play it like a boxing match.
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GM Meanwhile... Robert Harrow strolled out of the Katastrov institute at a sedate paste. The rest of the world seemed frozen. On closest examination by him, he could see the very faintest of movements - like fly wings slowly beating as he moved up close to them. I can't dally too long...Megan is...fast. Not fast enough to catch me. But fast enough to be on my trail... He looked at the horizon and the low sun. I never was much of a walker. But so be it.. He was cold, colder than he would have liked. He would need better clothing. He would need food too - easy enough to steal both. And sleep, of course...even with clothing he would need shelter in the snowfalls of Sweden. Where too? I need to,....ah! yes! it was many years ago, but maybe with the right equipment...I think I remember where I...yes! I do!
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GM Wessex scratched his head. "Well, that's...kind of reassuring" he murmured. "I got a feeling, and not a nice one, in the pit of my stomach saying I got myself into a world I didn't really want to step into. But, seems I spotted something that needed spotting. And I have you to thank for sorting it out..." "The lab results all point to the same thing. Some kind of designer drug, makes the taker full of adrenaline, serotonin and dopamine, hell, it seems to stimulate about every neurotransmitter in the brain. It's basically excitement in a bottle. Not a whole heap of fun to be honest, although it could be addictive..." "But I'm guessing that wasn't the point. The point was it makes you feel alive...like a month's worth of living crammed into a few days. That must make blood all the sweeter for blood suckers..." "Look, I cant see the king of this dropping his concoction just like that. It would be too useful. he has found away to create crack cocaine for vampires. And that means a lot of power. So, look, I'm in this now. If you ever need my help, gimme a call..."
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Quentin stopped at the wall of Merge's. "Yes yes, I get your point!" he sighed, throwing his hands up in the air in desperation. What a ridiculous woman. I quite like her! Merge looked, and acted, like a child - in his opinion. A petulant, stroppy, and immature child. With attitude. The contradiction was she also had the appeal of one. "This is *ahem* clearly beyond me. I shall have to leave all villain apprehension to Superheroes like yourself!" he said, backing down the stairs. His eyes scanned left and right to see where he could change into Supercape. "Although I confess I am still not precisely clear what felony has been commited, and by who!" he mentioned. It was true too - he guessed that Merge could handle herself against any regular thief or miscreant, but the world was full of supervillains as well as superheroes. At the back of his mind he hoped Liebniz would not...get into any trouble...
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Lost the first result in IC, was 27 (as discussed in chat) Retrieved the second one... 1d20+9=18 1 (more) bruise
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GM Crimson Tiger was not alone. The night was dark, and the rain made visibility still worse. At least there was some dim light from the docks and the ship. It was hard to make out the figure under such circumstances, but he - if it was a he - was still, crouched on one knee, and looked to be observing the fight. He was more shadow than anything else - a blackness on a black canvas. He looked...in his silhouette, something like...a pirate? There was an extravagant floppy hat, the suggestion of breeches, and the glint of sharp steel by his side, like a cutlass. The parrot was fortunately missing.
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Crimson Tiger spots an observer as per IC! About 50 feet away. Crimson is up!
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The Mess cranes his neck skyward, watching the action fly away from him to the rooftops. "You slippery son of a..." he shouted, before launching himself into the air to land by his golden nemesis. For all his muscle and bulk, the years of pugilistic practice had made him suitably agile. He came down on the roof with a crunch, shattering more than a few tiles. Ok, so I ain't as fancy as you, mister, all backflips and cartwheels, but I know how to fight... With a bust of speed, his massive, throbbing arms gave a jab, a jab, and a powerful smash with his right. He knew now his opponent was fast, faster than him, and he needed to unleash a flurry of blows to connect...
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Ok is Lefty and Righty Time for the Mess I presume Mess, with Leaping 6 active, can jump up to his Golden Nemesis - which he will do as a move action. Then, a smash. I think this will be all out attack +4 Attack, -4 Defence. 1d20+14=32 now I'm pretty sure that hits! DC 25 Toughness save?
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1d20+9=18 for an Intimidate by Pitch (directed at the Gas Chuggers)
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Carmen downed her whisky, frowning. "Well who in hell is that?" she spat, her fingers playing on the goat's head of her stick. Her words rang with unpalatable truth. I wouldn't know...would I? came the whispering burning voice from her belly, as Carmen slid off her stool. Silence Tazel. Enough of your whispering today...she mentally shouted back at the demon insider her. A brief muttering was her reply, and then silence. The wretched creature had no choice but to obey. "Axel, that is a woman from hell, and I mean that literally, so peel your eyes of her. You know the kind of trouble her sort have caused..." she said to the mechanic biker, elbowing his ribs. She knew Axel fairly well, and the old man knew that such wretched creatures did indeed walk the earth. Hell, you didn't hang around her father for long without having those eyes open. Whether his fresh young assistant Ironhorse did or not - she didn't know. She took no relish in the fact her eyes might be opened tonight, but then, you didn't hand around Carmen Cantos long without your eyes being opened either... Carmen took her cane firmly in her hand and walked over to the demon and the Chuggers. Her walk was off beat, with a clicking of her right foot, thanks to the limp she had inherited from her damn father. "Back of guys" she scowled at the Chuggers. "I need a word with Miss Hamilton here..." she said, steel in her voice.
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Tagged!
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"So that's how you want to play, do ya?" The golden suited man was not ingratiating himself with the Mess. In the back of his mind, he was aware that the whole "find the girl" mission was getting uglier with every day. He wasn't sure what he and Fred should do any more. There was a fine line between finding a missing girl and bounty hunting. But, right now, there wasn't the time or inclination to work out the why and the wherefore. His adrenaline levels surged, and his fighters pride followed soon after. Perhaps if this guy had been unarmoured, or alone, he might have come at him fair and square, without his turbo-powered blood. But, not today. As he stood up, his veins popped out, his muscles swelled to twice their size, and his t shirt ripped. "You may be fast, but I've fought faster!" he spat, ignoring the crunching pain in his sternum.
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Mess is going to Pump up as a standard action As a move action, he will stand up!
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Slapping on a micro transmitter to the Ethergun. I dont think he could realisically conceal one on a flawless diamond!
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"And tell me, why would anyone rig up this telegraph?" he said, pointing with his cane. The tip followed a wire from the telegraph to a junction box. "A telephonic transmission, perhaps? now why would someone want to do that? transmit through the ether?" he said, an open question to both himself and his fellow detectives. His eyes flicked momentarily towards the ethergun. It is possible this is all elaborate hoax. Madame Vapeur has it in her to be the most cunning blade! A remarkable woman! He felt him push down his admiration and his...attraction to the woman. She is a criminal! "And how does the Madame transmit herself eh? That trick with the cloud? What exactly does she do? What exactly is she???" he asked. He went to inspect the Ethergun once more, this time reaching into his pocket and slapping a micro-transmitter on to it. It was a small thing, not easily noticed unless one was carefully examining the weapon, and knew it would be out of place...
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1d20+10=19 which is a bruise.
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Crimson Tiger is up, need notice roll.
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Gallia Falling, part 2 - Rene-le-Chateau (OOC)
Supercape replied to Tiffany Korta's topic in Archives
1d20+1=16 Stealth roll for young Rene! (May of course be not needed, throwing it out in case it is!) -
Rene shrugged. Marianne had led them true until now. He had little choice but to trust her, and, if he was honest with himself, he had grown progressively more inclined to do so. "An Ally is it?" he asked, making sure his voice was suitably low. He looked the stairs, which seemed empty. "Well, I would rather be upstairs than downstairs. Cold hard cellars, cold hard dungeons. Easy to get trapped, which is not ideal for liberterians such as ourselves...." he mused. He trod on the first stair and winced slightly as it creaked. "Let us meet this Ally then, Marianne. And let us try to be quiet about it. This house may have an Ally, but I fear it has more than one protagonist to our story..."
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"Smoke bombs? Coil cards?" replied Rene. "You remind me of Sun Tzu!" laughed Rene. "Before my time, of course, but that didn't stop me having a very pleasant tea with him...don't ask. Sometimes my life has been complicated..." he smirked, eyes twinkling at the thought. "Very well then" he concluded, fingering his magic paintbrush. "I fear the magic ink of mine, although able to mask us, or conceal us, will not avail us a second time. Our Fey masters are tricky, slippery, and astute..." he sighed. "Come then, let us feast! If nothing else, I expect good wine and fine delicacies! even if we are here to stop terrible war, even if we are to topple tyrants, then let us do it with full and content stomach!"
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I leave that to your discretion then!