Supercape

1d20+4=18 for Toughness. Radman is bruised, stunned, staggered.

Drifter see's the two guards and the fact they both have machine pistols - they only half heartedly have them concealed. Worth noting they are better tooled up than the thugs you saw before.

GM As Nick scanned the street, two dozen ghosts caught his eye. None where quite the same, but all looked emaciated and ill. They surely had all died from a common cause: drugs. They were a sorry sight. The waifs and strays. They all looked hungrily at one particular house. Just as beaten up as as the rest, but this one had two large guys, one black and one white, outside, keeping a watch. The windows were boarded with iron. The ghosts were murmuring. "One more high" "I can pay, Knuckles" "Gimme a shot"

GM Haley was clearly shaken. "I... I... don't know. I was with Professor Quill, we heard an explosion and he went to look. I don't know what happened to him. I saw Professor Liebniz, glowing red, attacking the students... they all turned red too! I... I ... think its infectious! You have to stop them!"

Good move Sparky, You have heart! And 1 HP for complication / being cool!

Radman initiative 1d20=5 Sparksmith 20 HP1 - Unharmed Guardian 16 HP1 - Unharmed Radman 5! - Unharmed

Meanwhile Supercape Quill moved into main office of the SHIP collision building. The smoke was getting pretty bad here. Momentarily, he focussed his mind and disintegrated a segment of the ceiling. Then, shutting the door, the smoke started to thin a little. At least he could breathe now. Unfortunately, it also meant that the room became a little clearer. A large window on the north side joined with another part of the laboratory, the particle gun. And there was Liebniz, all aglow with red radiation, furiously smashing up the equipment. "Liebniz my dear fellow... are you allright?" Said Quill, without thinking. Liebniz glanced over and growled, slowly, "QUIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLL". And with a roar, charged the window, smashing it and leaping at Quill. Instinctively, Quill reached out to the molecules in front of him, and changed them, increasing their bonds and forming an impenetrable crystalline wall that blocked off Liebniz from himself. And the exit. Great.

GM Haley Heart ran into the courtyard just outside the SHIP collision building from which a plume of smoke was still bellowing. She had bedraggled hair, glasses askew, and was missing one heel. Seeing the two flying heroes, she screamed out "Help, help, they have gone insane!!!" At that moment, a lab technician burst out of the door Haley had come through. Normally he would be classed as your average computer nerd - pale skin and underdeveloped physique. Now, the door nearly flew off the hinges with force he exerted on it. He let out a primeval roar of a man with half his expected wit, and lunged forward after Haley. It was then that the ominous red glow all over his skin could be seen...

Supercape Quentin strolled down to another part of the building, and popped into another laboratory. A promising and attractive young student, Haley Hearts, was running some data through an mess of cables that passed as a computer. Quentin chatted some time with the young lady, bordering on flirting with her, although she was ten years his junior and he tended to prefer older ladies. No harm in a little banter, he mused to himself. And fascinating as maths was, a little light hearted conversation was sometimes more fascinating. Five minutes into the conversation, Quentin offered to get coffee, to which Haley gladly agreed. He had not taken ten paces outside the lab, when the building was rocked by an explosion. Quentin didn't just hear it, he felt it. Large cosmic flux, located 90 metres from here, contained burst with fractal dispersion.... it's where Liebniz was. He stood there stunned. Something must have happened at the Particle accelerator. Acrid fumes started belching down the corridor as Haley ran out to Join him. "Get help. Fire. Police. Ambulance. Hell, get everybody" he motioned to her. Pulling out a handkerchief and placing it over his mouth, Quentin started to drive through the smoke, waving his hand in front of him. The smoke made it hard to see more than a few feet, but he had his eyes clamped shut. Instead, he extended his consciousness and was directly aware of the mass off the walls and objects around him, interlaced with the pulsing lattice of electrical cables. Overhead, the sprinkler system activated, drenching him.

GM Yeat street was hardly salubrious, but Butler street was downright bleak. The houses were tall, four stories high, and often wide. In their prime, they were probably rather decent, but with social decline and the great depression, they had stopped becoming middle class houses and started becoming refuges for multiple immigrant families, the poor and the criminal. Drugs and prostitution completed its ruin. Now, half the houses were abandoned, or home to squatters. The other half lived in fear. Trash littered the street, and only about half of the street lights worked, making the street was patched with night time darkness. The lights that did work illuminated the kicked over trash cans, and the occasional vagrant or drug user unconscious on the pavement.

Open thread for all that want to join. Quentin Quill / Supercape accidentally sparks of a scientific accident. People are "infected" with a radioactive plague and the university go's wild! Mechanically: This is a container: +10 STR +10 CON -10 INT (Limited, will not reduce Int below 1) -10 WIS (Limited, will not reduce Int below 1) Strike 5 Permenant Aura All above is contagious (Fort 15 roll to resist). If PCs are "infected" its Fort saves to throw off (as per time table 1 min / 5 mins etc), and Will saves to resist animal urges (DC will vary!, or just roleplay it for fun and maybe HP!)

Supercape Professor Quill had finished teaching the undergraduates for the morning. A rather dreary lot for a rather dreary class, he concluded. In an effort to try and stimulate himself, he wandered off to the Super High Impact Particle Collision (SHIP Collision) facility of the university. They were doing some very interesting stuff. Professor Leibniz was working away, surrounded by three sycophantic post graduates all eager to praise his genius in order to garner his favour. Hmph. He didn't much approved of Leibniz. And he didn't much like the way he was leering at the two females of his trio of cronies. "Ah. Quill. So sorry to hear your paper on observer entanglement was rejected by the Royal Society. Again. " Leibniz sneered. Quill merely bristled. He allowed himself the fantasy of disintegrating the atoms of Leibniz' glasses. That really was below the belt. In barely contained rage, Quill muttered a brief "Leibniz. " and wandered off. As Liebniz laughed and his trio of syncophantic worshippers quickly forced a laugh to follow, none of them noticed a massive fluctuation of energy that appeared on the computer screen behind them, just as Quill had received his dressing down.

Slick would have loved to get to grips with Knuckles... but there was perhaps a more pressing issue. What exactly was the drug "Green" that had hit the streets? He knew a bit about biochemistry although he was no expert. He had to know a bit, being the owner of a large multinational pharmaceutical company. And that convenient fact gave him all the resources he needed to look into this. "You guys look like you can handle O'Hagan", he said. He drew out the vial containing the drug, its aroma of ketones and other complex hydrocarbons a symphony to his acute sense of smell. "I'm going to look into exactly what we are dealing with. This needs some analysis. " His muscles danced again to an unrecognisable man, with streaks of oil visible intermittently. "Stay in touch. And good luck". And with that, he performed a mighty leap and sped off at inhuman velocity.

Ok. Slick will be (probably) sitting in a lab for the Knuckles scene... so feel free to cut to Butler Street

GM From Nick's mouth came a voice that was not Nick. More like the running of a blade over a tombstone combined with the last words of a dying and ancient man. The words where not grammatical or logical, and ran in a peculiar halting lilt. The overall effect would be judged disconcerting to most. "Irishman... in Irish Street... Bathed... in Blood and Poppies... Butler Street... Slash... Grip me firm... Rend...."

Thats good enough for Drifter! Knuckles if holed up just of Yeats in Southside: A ramshakle street of run down houses called Butler street. (Chosen because Yeats was Irish like Knuckles) The houses are large tall and run down. The area is known for illegal immigrants, drugs and vice. Feel free to describe your contacts and phone calls!

This was an error: Both Dragonfly and Drifter have heard of Knuckles

In case needed, Slick's disguise roll for the thug 1d10+13=18

Slick "Hey, no offence taken. Perhaps Mumblin' Bob can't be of any help." Slick's muscles and skin danced and bulged for a few seconds. Some dark oily tears formed over his body. The sight was not pretty. After a few seconds, Slick had assumed the form of the lead thug (who stood to one side open mouthed). It was not a perfect fit, but it took more than a casual glance to notice any difference. "Perhaps I could be of help instead?" Slick smiled. "The names Slick ladies and gentlemen. I've been scouting out this place for a week or so now. And I think its time to finish the Job." Slick produced the drug sample. "But first, I'm going to see exactly what this is. " Slick produced his small, sleek (And expensive) cell phone, and started exchanging numbers. "Sounds like you guys can hit O'Hagan whilst I look into this?"

Power Level: 7 (114PP) Trade-Offs: +3 Attack -3 Damage, +3 Defense / -3 Toughness (or "None") Unspent PP: 0 Gold Status: 0/30 In Brief: Lowlevel "Kingpin" character and underworld bare-knuckle fighting champ. Alternate Identities: Billy O'Hagan Identity: Public Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Drug dealer, criminal, prize fighter Affiliations: Various underworld crews. Family: Younger brother Seamus O'Hagan, a boxer and thug in Dublin. Father is Catholic Priest in Freedom City (Paddy O'Hagan) Age: 35 Apparent Age: 35 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Irish Height: 6'2" Weight: 120Kgs Eyes: Green Hair: Red Description: A muscular, broad shouldered man with a fighter's build. Several battle scars on his body, and a broken nose. A tattoo of Jesus crucified on his left bicep, and of a dancing devil on his right. Knuckles usually wears his long red hair in a ponytail, wears sunglasses, and is often barechested. He usually has a solid iron knuckleduster on his left hand, with celtic goblinfolk adorning it. He usually has a large revolver tucked into his trousers on obvious display. History: Knuckle's mother came to Freedom when she was 17, and three years later she was pregnant - the local Catholic priest had had an affair with her. Five years later, with two young sons, she was an alcoholic destitute and lived by prostitution. Another five years later, she killed herself. Whilst his father always tried to look after his illegitimate sons, they ended up placed in an abusive catholic orphanage. Knuckles grew up big, strong and tough beyond reckoning. He constantly fought. By the age of 15 he was practically a career criminal. By 18, he was known as one of the hardest men in the city, and was regularly winning underground illegal boxing matches. Knuckles is a brutal, savage and impulsive man, and these qualities have given him an impressive reputation. Combined with his natural leadership, he has consolidated a nice little posse on the street, and is feared and respected everywhere. He only really cares for his younger brother, who is just a shade less psychopathic than Knuckles. As soon as he had enough money he shipped him out of the ghetto back to Dublin to live with his aunt - although by all counts, the younger brother is following in his brother's footsteps. Personality & Motivation: Knuckles is a brutal and impulsive man who loves a fight and loves being undisputed leader of the pack. He is not totally without wits, and has a street cunning. Powers & Tactics: Knuckles has no powers, he is simply a very skilled fighter. A lifetime of watching his back means he reacts quickly to any threat and his street skills make him an expert in intimidation (his normal way of interacting, and often way of fighting). Whilst he loves a brutal fist fight, he is never without firearms. Complications: Example: Impulsive: Knuckles tends to act without thinking and can be goaded. Family duties Knuckles cares for his younger brother. Psychopathic At the final analysis, Knuckles is a bullying psychopath, who loves watching others suffer, and intimidating or frightening people. Abilities: 6 + 4 + 8 + 2 + 2 + 6 = 28PP Strength 16 (+3) Dexterity 14 (+0) Constitution 18 (+4) Intelligence 12 (+1) Wisdom 12 (+1) Charisma 16 (+3) Combat: 20 + 20 = 40PP Initiative: +10 Attack: +10 Grapple: +13 Defense: +10, +5 Flat-Footed Knockback: -2 Saving Throws: 4 + 6 + 7 = 17PP Toughness: +4 (+4 Con) Fortitude: +8 (+4 Con, +4) Reflex: +8 (+2 Dex, +6) Will: +8 (+1 Wis, +7) Skills: 53R = 14PP Bluff 2 (+5) Drive 3 (+5) Gather Information 2 (+5) Intimidate 12 (+15) Knowledge (Popular culture) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Streetwise) 9 (+10) Notice 9 (+10) Sense Motive 9 (+10) Stealth 3 (+5) Feats: 15PP Evasion 2 Fearless Improved Initiative 2 Startle Uncanny Dodge (Visual) Equipment 2 All-Out Attack Defensive Attack Elusive Target Improved Block 1 Power Attack Takedown Attack 1 Powers: 0PP None DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC18 Toughness (Staged) Damage Brass Knuckles Touch DC 19 Toughness (Staged) Damage Heavy Pistol Ranged DC 19 Toughness (Staged) Damage Abilities (28) + Combat (40) + Saving Throws (17) + Skills (14) + Feats (15) + Powers (0) - Drawbacks (0) = 114 Power Points

Slick Slick sure as hell didn't. Hadn't even heard of the guy. So it was Nick, Drifter and Dragonfly. Looked like handy friends, and smelled like them too. Would have to keep his eye (And nose) on Drifter. He looked like he liked smiting the unrighteous just a little harder than was strictly necessary. All kids too. Slick had been keeping under the radar for seventy odd years. And he knew it wasn't worth dropping the disguise without a reason. Still, better introduce himself. "You guys, that was amazing. These streets sure'as hell need cleaning up. Knuckle's guys bin all ovah. Ain't no place for a man o' the road to sleep these days." He went up to Nick. "The names Bob. Mumblin' Bob. On account of me mumblin'. Let me help, these guys won't notice me. " He mumbled.

Untrained Streetwise from Slick 1d20+3=4 Slick is not slick.

Dragonfly knows zip Drifter: Knuckles O'Hagan is known as an hard case bare-knuckle Irish fighter on the street.

GM The thug went white. "What are you?" he stared at Nick, reevaluating his life and all he had known. "Its the new stuff. We call it the Schnizzle. The Superhigh. The Green. It gets you high man. Real high. Like nuthin' else. " "We gets the Green from Knuckles O'Hagan man. He holed up real tight. REAL tight. Not nobody get in and out of there. Man, his guys are 'packin heavy artillery. " "Don't no nuthin' else man. We just gets the green from Hagan, that's it. He wants us to push that dope hard man. Get the kids hooked up. And they get hooked real good."

NIck +2 modifier for your rolls - a ghost kind of helps intimidation!