Supercape

Why not! Maybe an Evil Dead style vibe? Head Pops off and mutters some last curse before shutting all-white vibes? (Up to you of course, but thats the kind of vibe?)

GM "Extra Security..." The Thugs eyes seemed to swish around lazy, caught in a haze of uncaring bliss. "Yes, thats right... extra security.... that sweet jackpot needs security. Like me. Like You..." The thugs seemed totally content with the outlandish story; maybe it was magic, maybe it was tiredness, maybe it was the bravado of Luke. And the suit helped. Luke walked straight past the man and into the private area. Drinks bar, with waiter. Serving olives and a variety of drinks. Lamentably, everyone was drinking whiskey. So the fine vodka, wine and port all went untouched. Four men sat around a table with a green vlevet finish, playing poker. The men all wore suits, open shirts, and had thick cuban cigars jammed between their lips. From the angle he came in, Luke could see one thugs - a heavily jowled man - had a pair of kings, and the cards on the table looked pretty much in his favour - a king, a two of clubs. One card yet to be turned. The stakes looked high; large piles of tokens sliding into each other in the centre of the table. Four other men - large, silent, armed, stood around the room. All bodyguards, all alert for trouble. At the other end of the room was a large vault door. Luke could sense the high density gold loitering just on the other side of the solid steel...

Lets go with the bluff with a bit of Emotion Control flavour? (as you will have to sustain it...)

I would like to practice writing from a YA perspective. Not easy. But with that in mind, I mull over a possible Claremonter Ideas and comments very welcome (along with any crunch!) Gamma Buzz (a.k.a the Cockroach Kid) Power Level: 8 (180/180 PP) Unspent Power Points: 0 Trade-Offs: None In Brief: Radioactive Cockroach Catchphrase: " Alternate Identity: Baltazar “Batty” Botez Birthplace: Mexico City Residence: Freedom City / Claremont Base of Operations: Freedom City / Claremont Occupation: Student Affiliations: Claremont Family: Bianca “Betty” Botez (Sister) Description: Age: 16 Apparent Age: 16 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Cockroach Height: 5’9” Weight: 75Kgs Eyes: Red Hair: None Gamma Buzz looks like a human shaped insect, covered in a green exoskeleton, with three fingers on each hand, and two antennae growing out of his forehead. He normally wears a t shirt, and jeans. History: Baltazar Botez grew up in the slums of Caracas, spending his time playing in a rubbish dump with his sister. His favourite activity was playing with the glowing green cockroaches that scuttled around suspicious rusty canisters. Illegally dumped experimental nuclear waste has strange effects. Whilst his sister mutated her eyes (and is able to see in infrared and ultraviolet), Baltazar mutated his eyes and everything else, turning into a half-man, half-cockroach radioactive mutant. Fearing prejudice, he and his sister illegally crossed into the USA so that Baltazar could join Claremont, whilst his sister scraped out a living cleaning the sewers and subways of Freedom City (Infrared vision is good for something…) Personality & Motivation Baltazar is a rumbunctious rapscallion who likes to play rather than study. He is keen to prove daredevil bravery. His hobby is electronics and DJ, and aims to set up his own pirate radio station in the future. Underneath the extravert personality, Baltazar is wounded; he is an insect, with no genitalia and (in his mind) a monster with no chance of getting a girl. He is awkward around females, and gets very angry with bullies. Baltazar is still working out his future. Part of him wants to be a hero, if nothing else to impress the girls and gain acceptance. He has a passion for the underdog and wants to help his sister. A rebellious streak in him makes him fancy himself as a “Punk Hero” – hence the pirate radio station. Powers & Tactics: Gamma Buzz has insect like strength, agility and senses. His armour plated skin affords some protection and allows him to crawl along walls and ceilings. He is immune to radiation, and at the same time can emit radiation in various forms. He is too inexperienced and impulsive to be tactically savvy, but he would generally prefer to crawl along a ceiling and dramatically surprise people. He generally fights with his fists, whilst glowing green (Aura Nauseate Power). Whilst his sensitive eyes can see throughout the EM Spectrum, this also makes him vulnerable to dazzles. He has a penchant for signing “GBB” (Gamma Buzz, Baby) with an elegant twist of his laser vision. Power Descriptions: Gamma Buzz’s radioactive powers look like green light. This includes his laser vision (which is also coloured green). His “Mutate” power looks like a sickly yellow green, whilst his “Dazzle” power looks more like a bright white-green. Complications: Half Insect: Gamma Buzz is half insect. He looks ugly and stands out easily, making disguise almost impossible. In addition, certain pesticides and chemicals will affect him if they target insects. Big Impact: He is no more vulnerable to impact damage / effects than the next cape, but Impact can easily dislocate his limbs. Vulnerable Antenna: Even an average guy (or girl) can easily tear of his Antenna. They regrow back eventually, but without them he will loose his tremor sense. Green Greeny: Tactically unsound and fresh to the fight, Gamma Buzz hasn’t quite realised that the colour green reflects green light. Some of his powers (particularly the laser vision) will be markedly less useful, or ineffective, against green coloured objects (or people). Signature Move: Gamma Buzz will normally celebrate a victory (or percieved success) by carving his signature (GBB or Gamma Buzz, Baby) into surfaces with his laser vision, Apart from the trouble this vandalism might cause, it can delay him. Struggling Sister:: Has very limited wealth (mainly from his struggling sister). Radiation Pressure: Even without actively using his radiation powers, Gamma Buzz is radioactive enough to be easily spotted and tracked by a geiger counter or those with suitable senses. He also has to periodicallly use his powers (he will feel a pressure build up) after a few hours or he will lose control of them (for instance, unwittingly releasing an extra effort radiation burst at a bad time) inadvertantly releasing his radiation in an attempt to let of steam / release the pressure. Abilities: 16 + 18 + 12 + 2 + 0 + 4 = 52 Strength: 26 (+8) Dexterity: 28 (+9) Constitution: 22 (+6) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 10 (+0) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32 Initiative: +13 (+9 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Attack: +8 Defence: +8, +4 Flat Footed base Grapple: +18 Knockback: -4 (-3 for Critical hits) Saving Throws: 4 + 3 + 4 = 11 Fort +10 (+6 Con, +4) Reflex +12 (+9 Dex, +3) Will +4 (+4) Tough +8 (+6 Con, +2 Protection), +6 vs Critical Hits Skills: 40 Ranks = 10 PP Acrobatics 10 (+19) Bluff 4 (+4) Craft (Electronics) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Popular Cultures) 4 (+5) Language 3 (English, Portuguese, Spanish [Native]) Notice 4 (+4) Perform (DJ) 4 (+6) Sense Motive 4 (+4) Stealth 4 (+13) Feats: 5 PP Acrobatic Bluff Evasion 2 Improved Initiative 1 Prone Fighting Powers: 37 + 1 + 3 + 2 + 4 + 6 + 4 + 1 + 1 = 72 Radiation Array (32 PP Array, Feats: Alt power 5) [37 PP] (Radiation Descriptor) BP: Blast 8 (Extras: Penetrating, Feats: Improved Range 3 (800’ Increments), Progression: Maximum range 3 (x10), Precise, Incurable) [32 PP] “Laser Vision” AP: Nauseate 5 (Extras: Sustained Aura [+3], Contagious, Feats: Selective Aura) [31 PP] “Radioactive Glow” AP: Nauseate 5 (1-50’ Cloud, Extras: Range, Contagious, Cloud Area, Feats: Decrease Area 5, Increase Area 1) [31 PP] “Fallout Bomb” AP: Dazzle 8 (10-200’ Radius, Visual plus Radio Senses, Extras: Burst Area, Feats: Decrease Area 6, Increase Area 2, Flaws: Range) [32 PP] AP: Environmental Control 5 (100’ Radius, Extreme Heat, Extreme Light, Heavy Radiation, Extras: Independent [+0], Feats: Selective [Mix and match effects], Slow Fade 6, one day, Flaws: Range [touch]) 32 PP “Irradiate Ground” AP: Transform 8 (Mutation to Mutation, 250lbs, Extras: Continuous, Flaws: Random [No control over what power points are turned into]) 32 PP “Mutation Beam” Protection 2 (Drawbacks: Weak spot) [1 PP] “Armour plates” Immunity 13 (All Radiation Effects, Hot and Cold Environments, Disease) [13PP] Leaping 3 (x10 Distance. Running 180’, Standing 90’. High 45’) [3 PP] Speed 2 (25 mpg) [2 PP] Super Movement 2 (Wall Crawling 2, Full Speed) [4 PP] Super Senses 6 (Infravision, Ultravision, Tremor Sense, Low Light Vision, Feats: Uncanny Dodge [tactile]) [6 PP] Super Strength 2 (+10 STR, total STR 36) [4 PP] Regeneration 0 (Feats: Regrowth) [1 PP] Feature (Iron Stomach, can eat anything) [1 PP] Drawbacks: -2 Vulnerability (EM base dazzles including light Frequency: uncommon; Intensity: Moderate [x150%]) [-2PP]

GM "Jeesh, capes these days. I show dem a little bit of common courtesy, and dey go an spit it right back in my face. Champagne too warm for ya? Lobster salad too cold? Pffft....Pffft...." Blowfish rolled his eyes and got out of the car, champagne glass in hand. "Well if you ain't gonna step inside, I guess I'm gonna step outside. Mohammed and the mountain, eh? Anyways...pfffft...." The pitter patter and tic was slick, and Blowfish made no attempt to grab a gun or throw a punch. "Machete Max is raisin' a Zombie Army. And dat means trouble...pffft....even to a... ah... honest businessmen like yers truly. I gotta civic responsibility to da streets, being a good citizen of Freedom City. So, I gotsta wondering how...Pffft... he's doing it. Now, I know you might not be be so inclined as to pffft believe in zombies, but I can ashorz you, they are real. The question being, what kinda zombies?" "Yeah, slow ones or fast ones!" piped up a goon. Blowfish slapped him round the ear. "Shut it, moron! I am speakin to dis here cape. Speakin proper, like civilised people...pfffft...." Taking another sip of Champagne, Blowfish continued. "I reckon I gotta idea. Now, we can stand arround here yammerin and yakkin and pfft pfft pfft... and so's on, but I found something might be explainin how he raisin da dead. Something not so voddooo. Something all technological and stuff. Whats da word...pffft....cybernetics! Dats da word. Looks like you know ya way around all dat techno-pffft-logics, am I right?"

The amazing Captain Cosmos The sight of the sloshing sea did not feel good. Captain Cosmos couldn't drown if he wanted to. But going underwater sent his skin into a cold dread-childhood memories, and not good ones. What did one say in this situation? He wondered. Halt Evildoers was not only cliche, but inappropriate. "Hey their, sailors" he started, addressing the rapscallions (aka teenagers). "No need to punch each others lights out. Try a food fight, if you really want to take it out on each other. I'll buy you all a custard pie if you stop it!" He hovered a few feet above the deck, hands on hip, smiling. "Or you can just tell me what's kicking off and I can try to fix it. Looks like this ship's been busted up pretty bad. Don't want to see you all drown. Those sneakers look too expensive to get ruined by seawater...."

I think Diplomacy is more Cap C's style [url=https://orokos.com/roll/982471]Diplomacy[/url]: [u]1d20+10[/u] [b]28[/b] Current Events is his bag! If he can take 10 on that, he will. Otherwise, [url=https://orokos.com/roll/982472]Know CE[/url]: [u]1d20+16[/u] [b]21[/b] he fails!

Rev "Yes my master... I am yours to...." Wait! "Hold on, this isn't a B-movie! Screw you, buster! Are those teeth real? Because I'm going to be punching you so hard, you will be passing their shattered remains out of yer backside for the next week!" Some part of her brain realised this was a Vampire, or at least someone doing a very good job of pretending to be one. Were Vampires real? It seemed so... she racked her brain for what she knew about vampires. What was it... Garlic? Running Water? Crosses? Sunlight? Silver... no wait, was that Werewolves? Or was it both? Never mind! For now, her mighty fist would have to do! BAM!!!! She threw a might haymaker aimed right at the ?Vampire's mouth. She looked away, covering her eyes, trying to remember more about Vampires. Hypnotism? Yeah... hypnotism. What else...aha! FIRE!!!! Well if the punch didn't do it, she hand plenty of fire to dish out...

[url=https://orokos.com/roll/982469]Will[/url]: [u]1d20+6[/u] [b]19[/b] Well I thats a "win". In response, she is going to punch him! [url=https://orokos.com/roll/982470]Punch Vampire[/url]: [u]1d20+9[/u] [b]29[/b] Which is a critical! If vampires are susceptible to criticals? DC 24 Tough Save, 29 if Crit applies. As a move action, she is gonna clamp one arm over her eyes! No more hypnotism!

GM The suit fitted, by and large. Maybe the pants were a little too short, but unless one was really scrutinising the fashion, it was a good match. Walking back to the casino floor, little had changed. Maybe one or two gansters gave a nod, maybe a few thick set bodyguards stiffened, maybe a few molls eyes him up, but such was the power of threads. Walking down the stairs, Luke caught the wiff of smoke. Cigar smoke. Cuban, if one had the nose and the experience to detect the subtle differences in flavour. A pair of wooden doors stood at the bottom. And beside them, in a chair, a very large man. A very large man indeed. He must have been over six and a half feet and gave the impression of being twice as wide. A scar ran across one blind eye, his nose was broken, and both ears had a cauliflower look. This was clearly no regular thug. This was a bruiser, a warrior, a killer. And he was in the way. "Huh. Who you?" he asked, scratching his nose. "This is private members only..."

GM "Whatever? Don't that kinda depend on exactly whatever I am whateverin?" He looked out to the Graveyard, lit by moonlight. It certainly was a spooky sight. "Look, I ain't da one raisin' da dead at midnight. I ain't got no voodoo hocus pffft pocus, brought up a Catholic. Ain't right. Ain't natural. Work of da devil himself, if ya ask me." He turned his eyes back to Chimera. "Jus' so happens I'm here to Pffft Stop Machete Max from raisin' a goddam zombie army. I swear to God almighty...." The man crossed himself and muttered a prayer. And a pffft. "You can call me Blowfish. On account of everyone callin me that. Pffft" Every time he ticced, his cheeks swelled up like a rapidly inflating balloon. "Why don't ya step in, I got champagne, I got cuban cigars, and if ya be so inclined, I gotta proposition..." The door of the car opened. Inside, Chimera could indeed see champagne, cigars. And a Tommy gun.

GM "What the frickin' goddamit bleedin' turdcakes???" The Man inside the car was short, squat - fat, certainly, but the kind of fat that had a certain solidity underneath, with broad shoulders and calloused hands. He wore a blue zoot suit, had a cool tie, and puffed a smoking cigar. He was in his late fourties, one would guess, with a face that was remarkable for a trumpters cheeks and heavy jowels. "Who the pffft... are you? You ain't no pffft...Machete Max!" He had a tic; a big blow of air and puff of his cheeks, that made him look like he was chewing a pair of pineapples. He held up his hand, signalling his men not to shoot. "What you... pffft... doing? Punching one my mooks...I mean...pfffft....bodyguards? You some kind of frikkin' Hero?"

Echohead Gotta look cool. Gotta look cool... Echohead sauntered over to the other two, imagining his cool suit flapping in slow motion in the wind, and a zephyr tugging away the lapels to reveal tantalising glimpses of his cool gun. He fell flat on his face. He was not a clumsy man by nature, but when a man tries so incredibly hard to walk a cool walk, and focusses on every muscle and movement, the brain will misfire. Plus, there was a gnarly root that conspired to catch his boot at a particularly impressive time. "Gnf!" He had a mouthfull of moss and a suspiciously coloured mushroom. He hoped he wouldn't go on a trip. "I mean..." he gabbled, pulling himself and dusting himself off. "I mean greetings, fellow heroes... I am Echohead, a tenth level... no wait, thats the computer game. I am Echohead, agent of AEGIS!" He wasn't technically an agent, but they did help him. He wasn't that bothered. He noticed he had grass stains on his cool suit. That bothered him. "But the real question is.... who has gathered us, and why?" He waited for the horn stabs to emphasise his words, but there was only the rustle of leaves. He had to fight off the urge to pass wind as dramatic punctuation to his statement. Now that, he realised, would be incredibly uncool. But with the realisation the urge just became stronger. He clenched his buttocks.

Lets roll a DC 10 Stealth - if you make that, you can narrate taking down the mook however you wish by suprise. If not - its more a question of if he can left off a scream before you KO

In case its needed... Notice roll [url=https://orokos.com/roll/982329]Notice[/url]: [u]1d20+4[/u] [b]22[/b]] And also in case its needed, an Initiative Roll [url=https://orokos.com/roll/982330]Init[/url]: [u]1d20+7[/u] [b]13[/b]]

Rev Guns... and Sorcery. What does that mean? Ghost Rifles? Spectre Shotguns? Witch muskets? Rev didn't really know what it meant, other than she was rather disturbed (albeit unsurprised) by a Merc devouring Gun statistics like a fethish. It was all well and good until a bullet ripped through flesh, shattering bones, severing tendons and nerves, blowing arteries... ...she stopped her train of thought. If she wanted to go down that road she would have trained to be a trauma surgeon, not a mechanic. Why does he smell of copper? You didn't meet many merc's who smelled of copper. Well, you didn't meet many mercs. Not unless you were a merc yourself. "I'm no beauty" she answered honestly. "You want a beauty, go to the Tancing Ditties bar." She had never been to the Tancing Ditties bar, but she guessed it beauties in it. Well, not beauties, but something that this copper man was looking for. "What are we stopping for? You gonna get me a Cherrypop! ?" Rev loved Cherrypop! Lollipops. She could do with chewing one right now. It would clear her palate for what she expected was a spot of upcoming violence. And she knew just where to stick that guns magazine....

GM As luck would have it, the Big guy was about the right size. Maybe a bit to big round the belly - for it had sagged with age, booze and fine dining. But it would be close enough. The man was throwing dice, and failing. "Snake Eyes!" "Screw this! Dang it!" the man cursed, finishing off the entire glass of champagne. Perhaps the alcohol had reached his bladder, for the thug loosened his belt... "I need a whizz..." he mumbled, waddling off to the Gentleman's toilets to relieve himself. His gait revealed a very full bladder indeed, for it seemed he was reluctant to apply any more pressure or jolt to his bladder for fear of setting of an embarrassing chain reaction. The toilers were mercifully near, and mercifully empty. Pretty clean, with that same faux-gold finish that permeated the whole casino. No doubt dozens had wept at their losses in quiet in one of the cubicles, but not so today. With a quick look around, Luke could see that nobody else was approaching the toilets... it would be just him and the thug... For now...

GM As Chimera turned the corner she could hear voices. Thuggish voices, in an Italian accent that may have been genuine, may have been affected... "We're gonna riddle dose Yardie Boys with so many bullets, dey gonna be shittin' lead for weeks Haw haw haw" "Dey gonna have so many holes, you could sieve pasta with 'em Haw Haw Haw!" "Machete Max gonna be lead-ing his tropps from da grave!" "Shhh! Ya know what dey say. He's been makin' zombies..." "Like in da movies?" "Yeah, dumb-ass, like in da movies..." "Fast one's or slow ones? I hope its da slow one's. I ain't much for runnin..." "Maybe you should take it up, get rid of dat pasta-belly?" "You callin' me fat?" Peeking round the corner, Chimera could see two vinatage, polished cars, with a couple of suited mafia thugs discussing the ins and out of zombies. There were a couple more inside the car. "Shut it... pfffft...." came the call from one car. Maybe the boss. "Just be ready. Machete Max shows his face, I want da...pffft... Tommy Guns ready, boys!" The boss apparently had some kind of tic, blowing out a puff of air every now and again.

Thats cool - enough to get the jump on the goons and listen to there yammerin'!

Echohead Echohead wore dark sunglasses and an impervium weave black trenchoat. At his belt swung a bleeding edge variable pistol. He looked cool. He felt cool too, thanks to the high tech heat dispersal systems in his suit. No sweating for Echohead. But he didn't feel the other type of cool. He felt like a tremulous wreck, and the reason he felt like a tremulous wreck was because that was exactly what he was. Like a moth to a flame, he craved being a super spy in the centre of an action film, sipping vodka martini's. But he was short, ugly, and scared. But still... AEGIS had faith in him. Or at least pretended to have faith in him. He stroked his almost completely absent chin. That was the problem. You couldn't trust spy types, could you? He could pluck out all sorts of things from a man's brain - but he couldn't read what he plucked out. He shook himself out of his paranoid ponderings and focussed on the now. At least the scenery was pretty. Umberto always liked the company of plants...

Hey could you throw me Notice roll And although maybe not needed, an initiative roll?

My own PC just in for a fleeting moment - not for the adventure. Just something to weave in for future threads etc

GM "Hrmph..." muttered the man. "I guess a throw of the dice then..." The man strutted off, shoulders squared, leaning forward, trying to project the image of a tough guy. Too add to the effect, he loudly muttered something about betting more money that the "damn waiters make in a year". A man in a white dinner jacket, observing the interaction, gave a tsk of dissaproval as he passed by. "Never mind him. Dice is a game of luck, about the only game a man like that can play. What a cesspool this place is, huh? But I gotta check out the competition. Say, if you ever want a better job, come to the High Steaks. I'll see what I can do... but just watch your step round here, kid. Don't want to be on the wrong end of a tommy gun when you finish your shift." The man gave a little salute and passed Luke by, sitting down at a poker table and expertly flipping cards. Meanwhile, the golden hoard was still golden and still a hoard. Luke could see a few stair cases downwards, but this seemed to be where the big name thugs came and went, some drunk, some flush, some broke. It was also where the gold was piled high. Ready to be plucked... ...but who would do the plucking???

GM Tazel burned into sight, living flame shaped like a skeleton. The pale smoke of candlelight kept them invisible to those pedestrians strolling past. The lock burned, melted. Puma could see that Tazel's fires were strong, but they still lacked a ferocity, a substance. It took a minute to melt the lock. And Tazel was not so precise as one would have liked. A hand of living flame was in the lock, melting it from the inside. But the door was wood. By the time the lock melted off, and the door swung open, the door was smoking. It was on fire. Inside, the alarm systems were quiet - for now. They were set to detect break ins. And there were smoke alarms...

Rev "...And the tweets of the birds go twitty twit twoo!" Rev finished her cute song with a smile. She couldn't quite believe it. Where the hell had that song come from? By luck rather than judgement every note had been on point. Adrenaline had given birth to inspiration. The only down down side was that she would have the song And the tweets of the birds go twitty twit twoo in her head for days. Possibly longer. She shuddered. She gave a thumbs up to Rick. He seemed like a decent sort. The kinda decent sort you wouldn't trust. Hell, she had been around enough crooked car salesmen to know the type when she saw one. She spent half her life piecing together heaps ouf junk that distraught owners had been sold. "I need to see Pete. Pete Moss" she said. "Somebody wants him to hear the tweet song. Thought it might cheer him up. Or perhaps mock him. I dunno. But that's what I'm paid to do!"