Supercape

The pirate leader yelped in surprise, and a little pain, and shouted at his underlings to open fire. Which they did. Quentin started to roll to one side, but knew that at this range, they where likely to hit. He gritted his teeth, expecting the pain... ...which never came. His lattice had held, slowing down, stopping or even evaporating the stream of hot lead that spewed forth from the two blazing weapons. My turn he thought to himself. And the centre of the room exploded in a pulse of intense light, as a simple oxygen molecule became the source of a huge pulse of energy. Whilst Quentin was unaffected, modulating the energy as it hit him, the light had effectively blinded the two gun toting pirates, as well as the ship officers. The leader, however, had shielded his eyes and could apparently still see. He pulled out his Glock and gave a panicked shot at the Captain. He was still fighting the glow in his eyes, and the shot whizzed past the officers ear, shattering a window pane.

Pirate Leaders cowardly attack on Captain 1d20+5=8 miss, phew!

And a DC 18 Dazzle Area of Effect. 1d20+4=20, 1d20+4=8, 1d20+4=13 The leader can still see, others are blinded.

1d20+5=19, 1d20+5=19 Both hit, with no autofire bonuses (Defence 18) DC 18 Toughness 1d20+12=29, 1d20+12=22 And both bounce off harmlessly

Well, it would do. Quentin was hardly the impulsive type... but between the adrenaline, excitement, and the practical need to actually have a name, it would do. "The name's Supercape, citizens" he intoned, before flying off. Supercape? he asked himself - well, it was probably a safer bet than letting the media or the workmen come up with a name for themselves... it might have been Tarpaulin man. With his brand new alias, he flew up to the top deck. He could dimly see the figures of the crew, captain, and three pirates through the windows of the ship. They looked armed. Even with the element of surprise, this could be tricky. He concentrated and instant, and formed the lattice of quantum events over his body - he had made sure he had got his practice in for that trick. Hopefully it would stand up to the gunfire. Wit the explosives disarmed, perhaps the pirates might listen to reason. With the blue-green forcefield glowing, he descended onto the deck, and boldly strode into the main control room. Three submachine guns swivelled on to him. The captain and his two mates might conceivably have taken the initiative at this point, but they weren't that foolhardy. "Stay back, or we shoot" snapped the leader, an asian man who looked somewhat older than his two mercenary subordinates. "Put down your weapons, and nobody is going to get hurt. I have disarmed the bomb in the engine room, and your man down there has been arrested. The game's up, gentlemen." The leader clearly didn't want to parlay. Which, to be frank, would mean a long stretch in jail. Piracy wasn't a crime that lead to a small fine and a parole order. He grabbed the captain and put the submachine gun to the poor man's belly. "We aren't going anywhere. This ship is turning round, and you are staying right there hero. One false move and I blow captain family man here into mincemeat!" This looked a bit tricky, but with a little concentration... zap! and the weapon splintered and fell apart.

A diplomacy check: 1d20+10=17 They remain Hostile.

Supercape Despite squeezing everything he had into the protective force field that enveloped him, the explosion ripped the atomic lattice to shreds, and threw Cape to the wall. His head was ringing, his ears singing, and all the wind had gone from him. The world seemed to briefly go double. Dazed as he was, his acute esoteric senses only caught the impressions of the strange energy changes and gravitation distortions that coursed through the immediate vicinity. Covered in dust, and slumped against a wall, he groaned. "Good lord. That was a bit much..." On the positive side, the anti-Liebniz had gone, as had the radioactive glow around his academic nemesis, Liebniz himself, who appeared quite unharmed. Must by the eye of the storm. He will be back in action shredding my academic reputation in no time... thought Supercape, ruefully.

GM As Liebniz collided with his mirror image, the room tingled. There was a kind of sucking, kind of silent sound, almost "negative" sound, and a brief pause. WHHHHHHOOOOOMPH! The mirror image of Liebniz folded up on itself, collapsing almost instantly, then the concussive blast started. It ripped apart Sparksmith's protective barrier, and hit the three heroes. All the windows smashed, and the walls cracked. The Particle accelerator was thrown, and it punched a hole into a neighbouring room before fizzing and exploding itself. The sound was deafening, and the force extreme. If it hadn't of been contained, the explosion would have been much worse, devastating in fact. Even with the containment it packed a punch.

Ok. It's boom time. Fortunately Sparky has sheilded us from the worst of a PL 20 boom, making it only PL 10. This is probably largely academic, but for role play purposes, DC 25 Toughness save. Feel free to post IC in no particular order. Reflex save (DC 25) for reducing it to 20 Toughness save As for cape, despite extra effort on his force field, its not great... 1d20+12=18 Stunned and Bruised.

The pirate pulled out his Glock, and started to aim. He was clearly an experienced solider, but the Sight of a flying caped superhero wasn't something he had counted on. In a fraction of a second, Cape had applied his mind to a few key atoms in the pirate, and with a slight nudge, they changed state, releasing a pulse of purple energy. The sudden heat and power was too much for the pirate, who collapsed, unconscious. "Hey look, its a cape!" shouted one of the workmen. As they came closer, Quentin opened up the bag. The timer, and radio control were wired up to the explosive. He was no bomb disposal expert, but this was not a masterpiece.. and he could sense the flow of electricity through the wires. A simple disentanglement of the atomic bonds, and the whole device fell apart in his hands. "Wow, that's... well, that's SUPER, cape!" exclaimed one of the workmen. Quentin pulled the hood over him and the oversized makeshift cape fluttered magnificently around him as he stood up. "CItizens, tie up this man. And disarm him. I will deal with the rest of them above." He intoned. The workmen looked suitably impressed. Perhaps he could be a hero after all. A name would be nice. Hmmm... what kind of name. What had that man said... Supercape?

Initiative Rolls Pirate 1d20+1=12 Cape 1d20+0=19 Cape is going to blast, auto hit. Toughness save 1d20+3=19 KO (Predictably)

That sounded bad. Extremely bad. Time to be a hero, then... Quentin Gulped. He could only assume that there was a fourth man down in the bowels of the ship. Presumably some explosive nearby. Probably some radio contact. The ship was extremely big, however. It would take a long time to search, and that was time he didn't have. Quentin crept away, and as soon as he was a safe distance, started to run down the ship, to the lower levels. He barged past a few joggers with uncharacteristic impoliteness, although he did manage a mumbled apology as he did so. Down several levels, and he was breathing hard. He was in quite good shape for a man his age, but this was some workout. He came to the engine room. Best guess for an explosive, he reckoned... take out the pumps too. With a glance, he fried the lock of the door, and burst through. A few men where working at some machinery but the deck was large. Damn, he needed some kind of disguise. Like those real heroes in Freedom City. And if he was going to be a hero, he wanted a damn good disguise. Something to hide behind. His eyes met a giant blue tarpaulin. With a flash of light and a burning smell, it was fashioned into a make shift, oversized, cape and hood he slung over his body. Now, he could fly. And fly he did, swishing through the deck, his huge cape fluttering behind him. The two workmen gasped as he flew past. There. Same bags. And... yes, a short wave radio He spotted the man, and the two bags by his feet. He spotted the man's sweat. And he spotted the electrical signature of a radio and what he could only presume was a timer in the bag. His senses now extended into more than the human modalities.

Quentin started wandering the ship. At this time of morning, it was relatively quiet. They were still an hour or two from Freedom City, and most people were getting washed, eating, or trying to fight off the hangover from the party last night. A few people milled around, the odd fitness fanatic jogged in laps around the decks. Hold on, that's a bit odd... He mused. Three men, in jogging gear and carrying heavy bags, looked around suspiciously, and undid the rope to the upper deck, supposedly a restricted area. Crew only, and from the looks of it, the driving seat of the boat. They didn't look like crew, that's for sure. Perhaps he ought to inform a member of staff. Yeah, and perhaps he ought to look into it himself, if he was ever going to be a hero. As they disappeared to the top deck, he decided to follow them. Nobody around, so easy enough top bypass the roped off stairs and creep up behind them... Quentin could hear shouting, despite the distance. They were in the control room of the Fantastico, shouting, threats, fear. "Open the safe, Captain, or we will open the hull of this ship. We have enough explosive here to sink the ship in minutes. I have a remote control, and one of my men has hidden the bombs where you will never find it! muahaha!"

And his first notice check 1d20+10=29

Elsewhere The four men were sweaty with nerves despite there experience. In the middle of the night, their accomplice had passed by them in a high speed boat, and they had scooped up the luggage they were now inspecting. Submachine Guns, Pistols, and Kevlar Shirts provided the basics. However, the real prize was several bricks of C4 explosive. After stripping and checking their equipment, and rigging the C4, the men loaded the submachine guns and explosives into unobtrusive sports bags. The plan was simple: the Fantastico was loaded with what was probably millions of dollars worth of personal items in the ship safe. Load up the C4 in the bowels of the ship, and order the captain to release the goods or the ship would be sunk...

Solo Thread, where Supercape fights some pirates (modern ones, not the eye patch and parrot thing...)

Professor Quentin Quill sat on the deck of the enormous passenger liner, Fantastico sailing into Freedom City. He was here to start a new life. All of his worldly belongings were stored below. He had deliberately not chosen much, a mixture of practical items such as clothes, and some sentimental items. He didn't particularly want to cling on to his previous life, so was ruthless sorting out his possessions. On the other hand, he wanted to keep want truly meant something, so amongst his baggage were knick knacks, photo's and souvenir's of his past - things that really defined his history. Perhaps his most sentimental item, his mother's piano, would be shipped over later. He could hardly play, but it reminded him of her. It was expensive, but he was not poor and in this case, it was worth it. Professor Quill was wearing a blazer, shirt, and slacks, and wore some small sunglasses against. It was still early morning, but the sun was shining bright. Yes, a new home awaited at Freedom City, an new job at Freedom University. He looked overboard, at the sea churning below. With a momentary furrow of his bow, a tiny flash of light appeared under the surface of the ocean. And, perhaps, a new life as a hero. He didn't relish the thought particularly, but given his power, a heroic life was perhaps required.

Slick pulled out the empty vial. "Only this" she replied. ""Something odd I can smell, but I can't quite place what it is. Perhaps a labloratory could give it the once over, but it's going to take time. " She drew out the cigarette case. "Not much on this. The picture on the packet is interesting, a delta sign, representing change. Very droll." She gazed at the wreckage beside them, and the bruised and battered man by her feet. "Unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure we have the luxury of time." She brought her gaze back up to the ruined apartment. "I didn't exactly go through it with a fine tooth comb. There may be more stuff up there. I'm not exactly a forensics expert, however. "

Slick Peered at the bruised and battered body. "He isn't looking to well. May need a hospital. " She knelt down, examining the man. "What the hell happened here? We could do with a few questions answered from this guy." she said, talking to herself as well as the two heroes standing by. She waved to Dragonfly, with a wink. "New body!" she called out. Of course, the streams of oily exudate that streaked over her body were a bit of a giveaway. Turning to Cannonade, she extended an oily hand. "Hi, the name's Slick, as you probably heard..."

"I have Indeed! Here it comes!" This time, Slick was determined, no matter the cost. She jumped through the Giants legs, upturning the bucket as she did so. A trail of greasy, oily liquid streaked out, this time right over the Giant's feet. No shoes to soak that mess up. She smiled. Well, time to see if the Giant was as nimble as he was strong. He didn't look that nimble... it was probably his erratic staggering that had kept the trio from any semblance of accuracy for the past minute. Rolling to her feet and discarding the bucket, Slick took a moment to observe the giant...

1d20+7=9 Fer cryin out loud. This is keystone cops version of superheroes! HP this time 1d10+17=18 Lordy, as low as possible. If this was pen and paper, I would be suspecting a loaded dice! Well, it should be enough to slosh him... I have taken the liberty of saying that hits (I hope)...

"Slick by Name, Slick by Nature!" yelled Slick, and leapt from the apartment to the feet of the staggering giant. Staggering was precisely the problem, however, as he danced like a drunken man searching for his balance. With his size, every slight reshuffling of his feet was magnifies sevenfold. This was actually harder than she had anticipated. One misstep, and she would be kicked like a football. She kept her distance, and gave an experimental slosh at the feet of the giant, but it was nowhere near. She would have to get closer...

I think I will save them! Question: Does this mean I loose the bucket (it misses), or I just cant get to the feet?

Take it away, VC OP: I'll let you confirm your above action before resolving it...

Lordy, 6 Bruises... Anyway, Slick is gonna.. well, sliiiiiick I have no idea what this entails but Move---- Leap to feet of giant Standard---- Pour oil I'll make an attack roll 1d20+7=11 pfft!