Supercape
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Bloody Mess Freddy was pretty impressed with the sheer resilience, sheer determination of his foe. Grit like that wasn't common. Not that he would say that aloud, of course. No no, such resistance just made him puff up his chest even bigger, spit blood onto the sidewalk, crack his knuckles, and get on with business. "Maybe I shouldn't go so light on you," he said through gritted teeth and snarling eyes. "I'm going to turn this up to one third power!" That said, he put every ounce of energy and will into his uppercut - and uppercut that sent Anarchillies flying upwards, only to come down again and get stamped to the ground by Freddies foot. OK, he was a boxer. But a dirty boxer. Feet were certainly on the menu. "That enough for you, sunshine?" he said, gloating over the man beneath his heel.
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How about incapacitated but conscious? Leave that to you!
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Yes that makes sense. SO what I have done is spent those PP (and the spare) on skills but annotated that the Knowledge (Tactics) skill only applies to the first mate, Handsome Jack, Perform (Strings) only applies to Thin Lucy, and the Medicine skill on applies to Whiskey Saw, the Quack. So in some ways that is inefficient but I think adds a little flavour to the crew. Also added 2 ranks of language skills but annotated it so that in a similar manner.
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Are you saying a PC whose special power is exploding and dying is a bit whacky? Also, noted an error should be Boost 4, not 6 (Have corrected)
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Spore "Thirsty, yes! Yummy." Harper closed here eyes and filled her lungs with air inhaled via her nostrils. She really needed to get a grip. She exhaled, let the baggage go, and opened her eyes at least partially grounded. "I could do with a nice strong coffee," she said. She guessed that Miss Delago would not approve of wine, even mulled wine. Technically, Spore wasn't allowed to drink, and she wouldn't want to drink anyway. But she grew up on a Vineyard, and wine was part of her blood. She knew plenty about subtle tastes and flavours of the grape. "Not sure about the smoothie. Too much sugar..." Paradoxically, Harper was pretty militant about health (physical and mental) despite the vineyard heritage. Or perhaps because of it. She adjusted her sunglasses. Even in dim light, she preferred wearing them. The fungus had made her eyes and skin somewhat sensitive to ultravoilet light. Hopefully the sun would set soon...
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5 Bruises! Quite the tough guy! So Mess is going to feint, using his attackbonus as per feat: Getting a 28! OK lets go for broke! All out Power attack shifted, so -5 defence and an attack roll of 16 not good, but if the feint works?....
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Could you give me a sense motive roll, @Kaede Kimura? And an initiative roll as we may need it
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GM The snowmobile kicked into gear, speeding Archer across the land. Snow fell into his eyes, as did a low hanging sun. Not ideal driving conditions, but on the other hand the snow was hardly dangerous. Until it got a little more rugged, a little more drifty. Enough to make one slow down. There! The WEST station, hard to see - small, underground. And something else! Another snowmobile! Despite the snow and sun in his eyes, the Archer had the eyes of the eagle. Even at distance, he could make up a woman - middle aged, at a guess, flecks of grey hair, wrapped up warm - driving the snowmobile. A twisted face, angry, bitter, maybe anxious. And driving at full speed straight towards him!
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Gamma Buzz "Its just one of my many amazing cockroach powers! I.. wait. No." He put a cockroach finger to his helmet. "I mean. Its public so we cant talk about that. Its a secret!" He turned his head, his helmet, left and right, scanning for snoops. He couldn't see any, and nobody would believe he was actually a cockroach - human whose green armour plates were part of his skin. "And you look good too, Parker! Maybe a pitchfork, and perhaps you should be chewing a flower or something? Or lugging a huge barrel of ale with your amazing super stre--- I mean a small and easily luggable barrel of ale. What does ale taste like anyway? And is it illegal for us to drink it?" He looked around the crowd of Claremonters. "I mean, for historical purposes. Hey, is anyone studying law? One of should study law, right? Someone who isn't me, that is."
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Haven "The Centre. Of course. Max Mars, the man who makes the universe revolve around him." Haven felt a pang; was this oversight of human psychology because he was no more a human? Or was he always so blunted of insight? Milo Mikano spent more time in front of a computer screen than a person. Psychology was not his forte. Never mind. Haven was who he was now. "Thankyou," he said, with a touch of sorrow. Max Mars was soaking this place with a blanket of fear. If these programs actually felt fear. He went of the bar, got his bearings. The Centre was where he needed to be, and that was where he headed.
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GM The Crowd were starting to get riled up - Jack could smell it. Fear, adrenaline, rage. It was in the sweat, in the air. And Sunshade was savouring every morsel of it. Some of the crowd were shouting at Jack to leave the woman alone. He was three times her size. Some of the crowd - the wiser ones, or the ones that had seen the abuse of her husband - were trying to explain the situation. But nobody was really listening. Not any more. Who through the first punch? Who knew. But suddenly Jack, the snapchat girls, and the angry woman were being jostled by an angry crowd, a few seconds away from a full out riot, and already elbows, fists and knees where being used, amidst the screams and the shoves.
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Lament Perfect, thought Zombo, as the woman approached. Just the right level of fear - fear blended in with excitement to make a soup of delight. He pulled a pack of cards out of her ear. An easy enough sleight of hand, what with the lighting and smoke set up exactly as per his specifications. Pick a card, any card! He said, full of smiles as he shuffled the deck in an impressive display of dexterity and skill, streams of cards flowing up and down his arms. He was enjoying this. The stage! Nothing like it! For a moment, he could ignore the ravenous hunger, and the thing it belonged to. And in just a moment, the card she was holding would vanish and her husband would find the card under his seat. That was because every seat had the same card under the seat. The king of spades.
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6!!! for Reflex. Well, lets see about tough 17 so dazed and bruise number 2. And knockback!
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Lament Luther could feel the ghastly hunger of the Void. No... no... the void must not destroy the show! He was the Great Zombo, entertainer, star, adored man of the stage. His reputation would not be sullied. The crowds would walk out of here full of delight, not with some sombre flat mood that would feed into reviews. By the gods, he had had those! Despite technical proficiency and stage presence, the Great Zombo was a mechanical affair, and left me feeling flat... Bah! He fought down the hunger. Stamped on it through gritted teeth. But what was that man? The piano player? Something about that made him itch. Some mystery, some jigsaw. Never mind that! Focus on the show! "Any volunteer to aid me in performing voodoo sorcery? Only the bravest of souls, please...!"
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Gamma Buzz "Thats right! The Green Knight! En Garde!" said Baz, locking foam swords with Mike. "Your Kung Fu is really pathetic! Your Golden style is no match for my Cockroach style! Wait... no, that's China, right? Not Europe? Oh well, it still sounds cool!" He gave another few chops of the foam sword. "Jousting sounds fun, too. The thing about jousting is - sooner or later you will get the point..." He cast his eyes left or right, seeing if he could detect any tumbleweed. "...anyway, what I meant was. Sure, lets go see some jousting. Hopefully on motorbikes!"
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Spore Spore ran forward, seeking to challenge Dr Zero. Seeking to eat him. Not with her mouth. That would be icky. No, consume his flesh with her hungry skin, feeding on his protein and glucose and... Wait, she realised that was pretty icky too. No matter! It was all part of her fungoid powers. "You got cold powers? Well, take a look at this, doc! I'm going to kill you! ICY DEAD PEOPLE!" It would have sounded cool, if her mad swiping had actually managed to get a hold of him.
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Move action: Move Standard Action: FUNGUS MUNCH - Strike power on doctor zero 14 I am going to guess thats a zip!
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Happy to go with whatever transport is going
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Presuming there is no stress etc, taking 10 on perform wind instruments and acting for a 30 result
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Lament Luther was somewhat discombobulated by the man; happy? that happy? in Las Vegas? Well, it was a place of extremes. But entertainers were normally a little more balanced in their mood than the sweaty drunkards at the roullette wheel. As the stage lights hit, the speculations evaporated. This was the STAGE, darling! He spun on to the stage, ragged coattails flowing behind him, plastic skull in one hand, his trumpet in the other. Cue music. Cue lights. "BEHOLD! The dance of DEATH!" Smoke, cool wind, a lobbed skull that vanished into thin air half way through its arc. A tune! A dirge! Macarbe, hypnotic, a tritone cord.... the CORD OF THE DEVIL!
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Thanks as always Fox, Flintlock: Skills, counted and recounted and lowered Cosmology and now down to 32 PP (I may have fumbled) Corrected annotation on Quick Change Corrected Aging immunity cost Corrected Protection cost (it is protection 7) Corrected Astral Projection cost Clarified Illusion senses (yes, all senses albeit phantasm) Added in Emotion Control rank (yes, 10) Skeleton Crew Corrected Annotation of Reflex The ghostly 2 PP was Supermovement 1 (which I have added in) I can standardise the minions if need be, but as I understand very minor alterations in minions are allowed but I dont know where I read that so it may be my befuddled brain. Let me know. Leviathan Yes indeed, corrected Dex down to 10 (+0)
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Lament It was not the money - for Luther, and not for the great Zombo, his stage name. It was for the craft. The glory. And the void in his veins grew hungry. Hungry for joy. The void was not malign, merely hungry. No more evil than a bacterium that ate the flesh. Except the void fed on hunger. How vile! Luther wanted to give a great entertaining experience, but the Void was so hungry it would soon start feasting on Luthers on spirit, sinking him into a depression. But Las Vegas? This would keep the Void fed. The winners at the slot machines, or the tables, they won but felt a strange flatness. No elation, for that was being stripped away by the Void. It felt sour. Luther would rather the void felt on the crooks and villains of the world, not the poor saps who risked their savings on a roll of a dice. Pfft! Las Vegas had enough misery and tears already. He sat in the dressing room, in full make up and costume. The great ZOMBO! with his face painted skull white, and all sorts of voodoo ornaments. Not a real voodoo practitioner, of course. This was entertainment - Zombo looked like an archetypal voodoo sorcerer complete with mad laugh. Tricks and trickery awaited the audience. And Zombo awaited his call to the stage...
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Gamma Buzz Baltazar scratched his antennae. "Lawrence, disturbing the time-space continuum is way beyond me. I don't understand what the consequences will be. But, this I do know. You know more about this than anybody here. And I trust you." He looked around at the others. "We all trust you. And doing nothing can be as bad as doing something, right? So, what I am trying to say is. Whatever way you turn, we will be right behind you. We got your back!" He gave two thumbs up and a smile that seemed as genuine and loving as he had ever given.
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Thankyou!
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GM The woman in the car stepped out, and spat at Jack, apparently without fear. So blinded by rage, she didnt even notice the living shadow standing to one side, and orange smirk on his face. "Keep your nose out of this, musclehead!" she screamed. "Its a free country! You are oppressing me! Oppression!" A small crowd was accumulating around them. A furious woman, a living shadow, and a huge young lad. Quite the spectacle, even for Freedom City. Jack could he whisperings and camera clicks circling around the crowd. "Oppression!" said Sunshade, orating to the crowd. "Oppression of women! Bullying! Harassment! Aren't you angry?" he asked. There was no doubt about it, Sunshade was looking fat now. Obese, even. It was impossible to make out the definition of pure blackness, but his torso had become very wide, and wobbled when he moved. Even Sunshades normally slim neck looked fat.