Supercape

Once Cannonade had leapt off (did he look slightly flushed?) Slick couldn't help a little laugh. She winked at Dragonfly "maybe I'm not that much of a lady..." she smirked. "However, I wouldn't mind a back seat on that motorbike. I've done enough running for one day." She had been making a concerted effort to reabsorb her excreted oily secretions, and was now fairly confident that she would only leave a smudge on the seat. Hopefully the owner wouldn't be too picky, and if not, she could always slip some notes her way.

Slick couldn't resist a slight smirk. Cannonade was, she supposed, being chivalrous, but she had been around too long, and in too many forms, to treat that kind of stuff with anything more than bemusement. She appreciated the politeness and gesture, but nonetheless, it always made her smile. "I think I can manage" she said, having a few experimental hops. "Besides which, I would probably just slip out of your grasp!" she joked. "And we could, if feeling lazy, just take a cab", she added, producing an extravagant number of extremely high denomination notes.

Just to let you know - this could get messy! There is the potential for death here, like a drug - addled lady of the night getting killed. I don't want to get to Iron Age on people; and I also don't want to have your character get "Blood on his/her hands". As I said, its only a possibility. However, its your character and story (largely) so if you have any feelings on the matter, let me know.

GM At the top of the Stairs, 3 men appeared. They were clearly not your average thug. Their leader was a broken-nosed red haired man wearing a sleeveless leather jacket over a bare chest. He had tattoo's on his arms and was loosely carrying a Glock. Despite being shorter than his two subordinates, he somehow semmed bigger, commanding respect and having an air of authority. He looked tough, muscular and lean. The two men behind him were bigger and carried assault rifles. They wore combat fatigues and heavy boots, and looked ex-military. The red haired man peered down the stairs, and started to stroke the carefully wrought iron knuckleduster on his left hand. "Stay frosty, boys" he murmured, clearly more cautious now.

Get em on their back thought Slick. Easier said than done, indeed. However, it was probably a good plan for the future. She had had the right idea, perhaps. Turning to Cannonade, she started thinking aloud "It's a good idea in principle. And there is a strong possibility this is not going to be the end of the matter. If whatever was in that cigarette packet was mass produced, we could have a huge epidemic on our plans" Heh. Cheap, but after the intense fight, a small pun might help them all relax a little. "We need to be prepared. I'll have a little think about that one." Turning to Dragonfly, she was the lights dancing on her visor. Kid looks smart. Datalink I imagine, and from the way she is whipping through the net, she is an expert. "Any luck?" she asked, as the helmed hero continued to speed through cyberspace.

Rounded up, I think - lets not make it too difficult! I presume you are just using the darkness effect at present, and not targeting anyone with the snare?

OK Folks, with Knuckles in play (and some misc thugs), this could go into combat but he aint quite firing yet. Feel free to engage in Role play dialogue, sing out if you want to initiate the heavy stuff.

Thanks, forgot that Sparky had given me the name. Editted.

"That's quite enough fun with that little toy." Said Supercape, anxious about the near miss. He wanted to save the hostages, not kill them. "Sounds like you need a cage." and with that, he concentrated on the air molecules around the criminal. There was a whooshing sound as they collapsed, and new air was drawn in. Within a moment, the pirate was encased in a transparent and impenetrable cage, one that shrugged off the bullets he spewed out in rage and fear. With this last trick, the last two pirates quickly capitulated, barely able to see. They threw their guns down and knelt, starting to babble about how the leader had forced them into doing it, threatened their loved ones, and their own lives. One for the lawyers to have a field day on, no doubt. Thought Supercape. Well, let them sort it out.

Quentin not taking chances and encasing the pirate leader in a cage (create object) auto hit, Leaders reflex roll 1d20+3=17 Not good enough. Thats enough for the Pirates!

"Supercape", Quentin replied, holding out a dusty hand after he had carefully stood up. He surveyed the wreckage, mourning the loss of such marvellous equipment. "Yes, we should check up on the Firemen. As far as I can detect, the crisis is over, but I don't want to be anything less than certain. " He paused, remembering the initial explosions. "Also, the young lady, Haley Hearts, who got caught up in this.... I actually sent her to get help. I'd best check she is all right too. He looked down at his clothes. Perhaps not in these threads, however he added to himself, and gave a wink to Sparksmith.

Supercape Exhausted, Supercape was content just to lean, seated, against the cracked wall he had slammed into. his body still smarted, but there were no broken bones. All he could face at the moment was half heartedly dusting himself off. His cape was tattered, but he didn't have the energy to reform it quite yet. "That should do it, chaps. Energy fluctuations back to normal now. None of that anti-energy nonsense. " He sighed. "Liebniz seem's to be allright. I suppose the rest of the SHIP building needs checking over, but the fire department should be able to handle that, if someone could inform them. As for me, I just need to sit here a few minutes until the ringing in my ears stops." "Well done, well done indeed. "

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!"