Supercape

Supercape sat down, rather fatigued. Despite his relatively safe input into the whole adventure, he was awash with adrenaline, and deeply alert to trouble. The mirror image villains were powerful and dangerous, and not to be underestimated. "Ah well if you have your own spatial transolocation device here..." he said, referencing the teleporter "that certainly saves me further effort! all a bit tricky this hopping around dimensions. Takes it out of you. I could do with a cup of tea to be honest. " He bet that for all the state of the art technology and gleaming devices that surrounded him, he couldn't find a kettle...

Rather academic post: I was going to ask for a diplomacy check on Gabriels speech to see if he could calm the panicked civilians. Then I saw his diplomacy skill. Mission accomplished! :D

Supercape heard Gabriel quite clearly through the fog. There was something quite beautiful about the tones, too - almost unearthly. With the lake and the fog, he could not help but remember the tale of Odysseus and the Sirens. "I say" he replied, "anyone out there? what's going on?" He could hardly see the hand in front of him, let alone anything else. Instead, he drew his attention to the streams of esoteric particles that flew across the universe and let them do the work. Supercape was a living sensor, and rarely needed his eyes. Photons were only one particle, and he could see almost all of them. There were several figures around, most of them (he guessed) the civillians that had been caught in the fog. He hoped there wouldn't be a panic: heaven help them if people tried to Drive under these circumstances. However, they seemed remarkably calm: no doubt the effect of the wonderfully soothing voice he had heard. He could sense the shape of the speaker, and headed towards him, arms outstretched. At least, he hoped it was the speaker - whilst he could clearly sense the mass and shape of the figure, there was no way of knowing if it was the speaker: or indeed what the speaker was...

He yanked a few levers and pulled a few knobs. The Zepplin lurched wildly from side to side, still maintaining a dive into the fields below. "You can drive this here thing, can't you, young man?" yelped the Texan, his knuckles white from gripping the seat. "Of course Sir!" replied Lucien, as the ship yawed violently in response to another random tug on a brass lever. "But as temporary pilot of said vehicle, I would recommend all passengers adopt the brace position." It was hardly the most inspiring of speeches, but nonetheless, the passengers dutifully went to their seats and crouched in the position. Some were crying, some were saying prayers. Its all a matter of pattern recognition... Lord Steam told himself as he yanked some more controls. Slowly, the pattern resolved itself in his head. I see.. if I pull this, then that controls Engine angle... With another few twists and turns, the Zepplin slowly pulled itself up from its dive. It was too late to pull up completely, and the damaged airship still lurched from side to side, but it was no longer in danger of complete disaster. It hit the ground at a fair pace, dragging a furrow in the fields behind it. The engine screamed and belched forth more smoke. A few small fires started, and the passengers were bumped from pillar to post. Nevertheless, they had landed.

Lord Steam burning an HP for Jack of All Trades, giving him Pilot +3 Ability. Landing (perfectly) in this circumstance is difficult: 1failure means a bump, 2 failures a crash... 1d20+3=10 bump!

Lord Steam sat himself down at the Pilots control. Around him, a half dozen passengers trembled with fear, screaming at the Aristocrat to save them. "Ladies and Gentlemen" he began, surveying the assorted levers, dials, and readouts. "I am pleased to inform you that I have effected emergency repairs on this vehicle, and it is now air-worthy. However, due to the danger..." and the leaking balloon holding us aloft... "...I fear I must elect to proceed with an emergency landing, in order to ensure your safety. " He smiled, as reassuringly as possible. If nothing else, he did not lack for confidence. "Thank heavens you can fly the thing!" said one Passenger, a Texan from the sound of his twang. "Of course" he smiled back warmly, and reached out to grab a few random levers firmly. Of course, he conceded. He did lack in any flying ability.

OOC thread for this thread. Gabriel and Supercape face up to Dr Stratos evil plans! muahaha!

30th April 2010 Professor Quentin Quill was taking a stroll by the banks of Lake MacKenzie. He had been in Freedom City for over a year now, but this was his first trip to Port Regal and the lake. He never seemed to have the time these days: sure the chair at the university was fairly quiet. But then there was all the work hie did at the Lab as Supercape. And of course, all the work he did as the hero Supercape. He paused by one of the cafe's. He had struck beverage gold today, and managed to get a very acceptable mug of Early Grey. And a nice packet of biscuits. The weather was good, and the Lake looked magnificent. His moment of quiet repose was brought to an end. The scream of a woman, followed by shouts of alarm and "call the police!". He looked around but there was little to see - waves of fog rolled forth from the lake, obscuring all in its path. At least I can change without anyone noticing... though Supercape, as the fog rolled over him and his Tweed Jacket and casual clothes sparkled into the Blue and White costume of Supercape.

The Luddite charged again. Simpleton. Repetitive tactics. Easily predictable. Counter attack method now evident... Lord Steam could anticipate the man's move this time. His left hand came up to sharply slap the hammer away, whilst at the same time maintaining the man's momentum. His right hand drew back slightly and with a whipping motion, collided with the Luddites incoming nose. There was a nasty crackling sound of breaking bone, and a bit of blood. Never did like the claret in a fight though Lucien Lockwood, as the second Luddite sank to his knees and then keeled over. "Told you you would pay!" he said with satisfaction. Damn, his head hurt! Another violent pitch of the Zepplin brought him to the task at hand. Peering out of a porthole, he could see it was a matter of moments before the landscape would bring them all to a grizzly end. Without further ado, he leapt from the Engine room, running full speed to the Pilot's chair.

Try again: 1d20=11 for loddite, forgot to add +2 but still a miss. 1d20+8=21 for Steam, hitting resolutely. 1d20=13 again somehow screwed the mouse click, forgot to add +3, but still a KO! (vs DC 18)

The spanner, and the hefty arm, swung powerfully at Lord Steam, only to be blocked and twisted away by the Aristocratic detective's swift hands. The two men struggled, clashed and parted. Lord Steam was confident enough. True, he would have liked his trusty baritsu cane, but this stiff was no match for his training and reflexes. The man lunged forward again whilst Lucien chuckled with confidence. Over - confidence in this case. Never underestimate a fanatic! he decided, as he recoiled, seeing stars. That one really hurt. He had walked into a quick, sharp blow. His cheek glowed and angry red, vaguely showing the indentation of the spanner head. He barely rolled out of the Luddites follow up blow, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs as he did. The spanner connected centermetres from his head, denting the engine pipe as it did. "You'll pay for that" he swore, rising to his full height and putting up his guard again.

Next round: Luddite: 1d20+2=8 miss. Steam: 1d20+8=11 Bah! Again! 1d20+2=21 not quite a critical. Toughness SC 19. 1d20+7=14 stunned, bruised. Next Round: 1d20+2=13 A miss (just) Steam fights Back 1d20+7=11 sigh.

Lord Steam elegantly sidestepped his assailant, with a shuffle of his shoes and a well placed shove to keep the man off balance. As fast as he was, he was not quick enough for the second man. He spun on his heel to face the Luddite, raising his arm and crouching as best he could. The spanner hit his side with a loud crunch. "Ow!" he exclaimed. It hurt, but it could have been a lot worse. No ribs cracked anyway, but a nasty bruise tomorrow. He lowered his head and quickly charged his assailant, ducking under the makeshift club and heaving the man from side to side. The man fought to regain his balance and initiative, but it was to late. Lord Steam straightened from his crouching charge and brought up his fist quickly and smartly. It was the perfect uppercut, and the Luddite's eyes rolled from the blow. "Take that, ruffian!" said Lord Steam to the toppling body. He spun around to face the larger man. "Give it up, Luddite!" he said "the games up!". He wasn't particularly surprised at the Luddites response: a heft of the spanner and a spit of defiance.

2 Luddite Thugs with Clubs. Initiative: 1d20=16 for Luddites 1d20+3=11 Luddites Swinging first 1d20+2=7, 1d20+2=21 Toughness save for Steam: 1d20+7=22 Steam punching back: 1d20+8=23 Zing! 1d20+3=4 KO

Lord Steam staggered out of the Engine room accompanied by a belch of smoke and an unsettling clanking noise as the Engine wrestled with his makeshift repairs. In front of him were two large men. Both were dressed in shirts, bowler hats, and trousers with suspenders. Each carried a rather heavy spanner in their hands. Shoulder sleeves rolled up. Smell of smoke. Oil on fingers. Slight burn mark on one fellows forearm consistent with recent scalding. Conclusion: saboteurs. "Undo all our hard work, would you?" sneered the larger of the men. "Hard work?" replied Lord Steam. "Gentlemen, I have just performed the hard work. And I conclude that all you did was throw a spanner in the works, so to speak. " He glanced around. "And how, pray tell, would the saboteurs escape the sabotage?" Surely they weren't suicidal? "Two more parachutes in storage, well hidden..." started the smaller, before the larger thug kicked his leg. "Lets get this over with! For Ludd!" screamed the larger Brute, holding his spanner high and charging.

"Excellent work" acknowledged Ms Wells as she listened to Jubatus. "It is indeed most fortunate that you hitched a ride along with us" She knelt down herself by the Corpse. "Someone wanted him dead... and is misleading us as to how..." she muttered. Turning back to the three heroes from Earth Prime, she continued. "I am going to check on the Brit Machine, and the apparatus here. Firstly, I would like to make sure it can make another run, and secondly, I want to see if any of our equipment has been tampered with. " She nodded towards the door at the end of the carriage. "Through there are the passenger quarters, all three carriages. Followed by the lounge carriage, Then the scullery and kitchen, then the serving staff carriage. Finally, at the other end, we have the Engine and Driver carriage. No doubt the villain is somewhere in this very train... unless he has made off into the mountains. " "The only other people on board is Seargant Singh, the local policeman. He is used to policing the local mountain village. Sadly out of his depth here, I am afraid. "

And arbitary smoke damage, a DC 15 Fort check. 1d20+4=15 just made, again.

Lord Steam waded through the smoke to the bowels of the Zepplins engines. The noise, heat, and smoke were almost unbearable. He could swear that a spanner was rumbling around the main engine, from the sounds of it. There was a perpetual chaotic sound of metal clashing against metal. A small fire had started. Grabbing an extinguisher, he pointed and sprayed at the flames. Something furious was fuelling it and it refused to die. However, Lucien managed to fight it to a stalemate, and could at least get close enough to see the engine itself. Hefting his hammer, he started poking around. The engine was in a terrible state, barely functioning. One couldn't steer the Zepplin like this. There was no wonder the thing was yawing like a raft in an ocean storm. Nevertheless, it didn't need to be perfect. If he could just get it to hold together for the landing... A few moments later, he saw the solution. Bending a few pieces of copper piping (that blew off hot steam as he did, nearly scalding him), he managed to cobble together something good enough for basic flight. At least, he hoped it would be good enough. Coughing, he turned back to Sir Crane, who had lost consciousness, and started to drag the man out. The smoke was getting to him, too. He gasped for breath and coughed violently as he dragged the engineer out of the smoke-laden engine room.

Complex Repair, Jury Rigging. DC 15 1d20+10=15 just made it!

Sir Andriod mused Supercape. Yes I quite like that... It seemed to capture first the fact that Protectron was an android) or something pretty close to it, but almost, and more pertinently, Protectron's inherent chivalry. Sure, he might not open to doors to maidens (come to think of it, perhaps he would), but he had that unshakable noble purpose: protect the weak, better mankind. If anyone deserved a Knighthood, perhaps it was Protectron, and his selfless conviction. "mmmmwuah" he said, turning to Protectron. "Sir Andriod, that's a good name, quite like that. " Wondering if Protectron could pick up, Supercape started to play around with a few wave-strings, nudging them this way and that until they formed a shortwave radio beam directly to Protectron. "I say, Protectron old chap, can you pick this up? Baron here seems a man with good intentions at heart - bit nervous about all this vaccuum energy myself - so best keep him on our side eh? check no problems and all that. Maybe ask Doctor A for his opinion?" Turning back to regular speech, he continued "Excellent idea, Baron. Perhaps both projects have merit. I for one would certainly like to help with the solar power system. Just as long as I don't do to much heavy lifting. Lets all save the world!" The short wave radio flicked back to Protectron. "More saving the world than making money, if possible!"

Ok its mystic Mayhem time folks. The ghostly mystic presence of the Hotel, and Rene's art, plus possible other psionic forces equals... The paintings coming alive. ALIVE! Quite how you would like your artistic nemesis to be is up to you. They will be relatively unintelligent, and encapsulate something about your psyche. They are not necessarily hostile, but they might be mischivious, randy, curious, etc. Finally, they will be immune to your own powers! Post your thoughts on how you would like your painting to be...

Rene set up his easel and examined the lighting. It was actually pretty good: the sun was neither to bright nor to dim. The weather had that pleasant warmth of spring with a touch of wind - something that always set his portraits and landscapes alight. Despite his pervasive Frenchness, he always had a soft spot for Turner. "Right then" he said, as he licked his brush and organised his paints. "All together I think? would that suit you all? BUt of course it would!" He shuffled over to the threesome and started prodding them, manipulating their bodies so they would suit his picture best. He must have rearranged them four times. The final pose seemed suspiciously like the first one - which he had declared "Impossible! Ze composition would be ze artistic equivilent to murder!" in a tone of total conviction.

Lord Steam was not impressed. "Rotter! Coward!" he yelled at the departing Pilot, shaking his fist violently. I'll have words with him later... he swore. Still, first things first - he was in a pickle, to say the least. He gazed around the terrified passengers as the Zepplin lurched again. They were all in a Pickle. "To the Engines!" he declared, wrapping his scarf around his neck to keep the fumes out. The engine room was indeed thick with a vile black smoke. At the floor, spanner in hand, was a semi-conscious middle aged man. Dressed well, rather spiffy, too old to be an engineer on a Zepplin, no calousities... noted Lord Steam in quick succession. Conclusion: well meaning passenger, scientist, trying to save us. He leant down by the man, wafting away the fumes as best he could. The unfortunate soul coughed violently and started. "Keep away, man!" he spluttered. "I have to repair the engines!" "And who are you?" asked Lord Steam. "Sir Archibald Crane" came the wheezed reply. "Of the Society for Metaphysical Engineering. I design these damn things... leave it to me to fix it..." he grasped his spanner and tried to rise, but the man was overcome by fumes. "Leave it to me, Sir. I am a dab hand at this myself, heh? Lord Lockwood at your service!" Lucien gently took the spanner out of the man's hand. Lord Crane resisted briefly, but Lucien was firm, gentle, and persuasive. "Good luck to you, Lord Lockwood" he coughed, falling back to floor.

Diplomacy Roll 1d20+10=25

Supercape Vignette [if accepted!] +1 PP Checking out the Territory The Heroes are NEAR (PC & GM posts) Making a Splash Russian Reactors are Reliable (PC & GM posts) We'd All Go Down Together Rene de Saens Vignette [if accepted!] +1 PP First Impressionisms (PC & GM posts) Lord Steam HellQ +2 PP Vignette [if accepted!] +1 PP Ambassador steam Dada Disaster GM Posts go to Supercape first. Anything left over, Rene. First Impressionisms (PC & GM posts) The Heroes are NEAR (PC & GM posts) Murder on the Victorian Express Russian Reactors are Reliable (PC & GM posts)