Ari

GM With a tremendous *BOOM* and flare of light, the flash-bang grenade exploded, briefly hiding the wailing monster with its brightness. When it at last cleared, however, it revealed that instead of a gaping wound or blinded, there was just an incredibly angry shadow-monster with an ugly gash on its tail, already healing with curling vapors of shadow spiraling up from it. What it had done, however, was make it focus back on Silhouette. "You use a trick of light against me?! I will not stand for this, I will send my essence into the Fissure, and emerge with the power to destroy you and everyone here in one fell blow!" So ranting, it raced into the dark, circular tunnel, sliding around a bend that hit it from view as the Messenger coiled and smashed its head against the wall between it and the worship hall, too furious to bother trying to use the doors.

Alright, he sounds like he's telling the truth, or at least not showing any signs of lying. He would probably try to put the blame on someone else if he was trying to get out of something...I am not a lie detector, not like some. Marceau shook his head, deep in thought. "I doubt that will be necessary" he said with a note of weariness "He isn't lying, as far as I can tell. My vote is that he accompany us anyway, just in case someone used his identity or something to get access to the meta-virus" he turned to Stormbreaker "I would suggest we go to the lab where the theft occurred, we might find valuable clues there." He shrugged his cape more comfortably over his shoulders, looking around at the flying patriotically-attired woman with light powers, the talking cheetah in the vest who was the Fastest Cat Alive, and the sword-bearing starship captain with stylings as anachronistic as Captain Kraken's. He felt deeply conspicuous in front of the crowd of regular Freedonians. As well as ravenously hungry. Oh come on! I was set to go for the rest of the day with that ration!

GM "" exclaimed one of the soldiers, just before being flung against the bare concrete wall hard enough to knock jim out. The raging explosion of air scattered the few guards who had been stationed near the stairway, most of them sent crashing into the walls, floor and ceiling in the first billow, though two of them managed to stand firm against it enough to be swept away soundly thrashed by the follow-up wave. The groans of the ones who had briefly retained consciousness mingled with the noise of clacking gunmetal as the now-terrified soldiery prepared for a desperate counter-attack, which by the look of things was highly unlikely to be mounted as effectively as they hoped...

6 DC20 Reflex save rolls: 11, 9, 21, 20, 9, 17. All but 2 fail, 4 DC25 TOU saves: 11, 14, 23, 20. All fail, knocked out. 2 DC20 TOU saves: 20, 17. #3 succeeds, #4 fails.

Twenty Green Soldiers. All but 6 currently concealed. Terrifying, I know. Surprise round. Bypassing, of course, an option. EDIT: Should probably clarify what the place looks like: it's a squarish room of about 100 square feet with the service elevator in the middle, the other stairway across from you two, and a passage on your right leading to the exit with a complement for the other staircase. On your left is a large barred metal door with NO ENTRY written above it in English and Spanish.

GM The two airborne heroes made their rapid ways down the stairs, which were just as damp and unpleasant as might be imagined, with most of the doors sufficiently boarded-up that they withstood most of the gusts and blasts used against them before falling apart. As they soared down the stairs and into the dimmed ground floor, a concrete and joyless place, the updraft of humid air from the floor below carried up the the sounds of idle talk among the guards, who were leaning against the walls of the ascetic and unadorned lobby in various states of being wholly unprepared for the arrival of the pair, few of them even wearing their helmets or with guns at the ready. They were twenty in number, spread out in clusters of two or five, mostly at the corners of hallways and around recesses in the walls where small tables and pamphlet stands had once been put. At the very least, they weren't wholly careless. Seeing the pair as they came into view, one of the soldiers called out sharply to the others as she sprang into cover "Hey! Que tenemos compañía!" Startled at the cry, the soldiers were galvanized into action, beginning to head for their positions in a dull thudding of rubber soles on the uncushioned slabs. All things considered, not a very promising start.

Sagrada. Anyway, yeah, I was going to suggest looking into the lab after Cubist posted.

Marceau was mildly irritated with how this case was going. He was familiar with the sinking sensation when everything you pinned your hopes on crumbled away, and was feeling it now as he glowered at the Drunken Mule sign, Tory Vetto's claims running busily through his mind... "Pardone?" he said in slight bewilderment, quickly catching himself Ah, right, not native here, and evidently not very interested in that aspect of our culture. "What Mr. Vetto here just said is, regrettably, entirely made up of existent words put together with the utmost coherency and meaning" he explained drily "The reference to 'tards' and 'noobs' is internet slang common to..some circles we rarely deal with. 4chan being the name of such a circle, and Photoshop a tool used to manipulate images on computers often used by those in said circle" He turned fully on Tory. "I spoke with the founder of the Cult of the Dripping Pox hardly two hours ago, he said that he and the others that had founded the cult had, to be quite honest, barely believed it themselves. It was founded by a Mr. Stills when he was still in high school, as a reaction to some things that angered him then. By the time you contacted them, he and the other 'cultists' used the site solely as a way to talk with each other. They did take your questions foolishly, though, I'll give you that." He scowled at the sign again.

Curse my total lack of a Sense motive bonus, what was I thinking?! Sense Motive roll to see if this droog is speaking the truth. 6. Nay. Rerolling(2HP, I believe): 20! Woohoo!

"That sounds very like what these surfacers dealt with a few decades back" Wave-Eye said, nodding slowly at the General's report. "They came from such a land and spoke that tongue. Or so I have been told by eels" he added mildly, recalling a meal by a sinking metal tube. He shrugged "If they have won out in their own planet, they could not help but improve their weapons, even if only to secure their rulership." He looked over at Ironclad with interest as he translated Gen. Lapidern's explanation for the benefit of the others present. "A good idea, especially if her world(with apologies for any unfortunate insinuations) cannot supply such things." Sitting heavily on his haunches, he observed the play of light on the water of the nearby pond casually. Perhaps they keep fish there... to Victory he said admiringly "That suit of armor is an incredible work. Tell me: where did you get it?" he asked with great interest

My mother's domain will not last forever, but it will outlast all who swim in it thought Wave-Eye as he propelled himself through the dark waters with slow strokes of his powerful tail. He had decided to travel a little further into the city's reaches, "Perhaps even show myself to the humans? It cannot hurt after that...event on the Centurion" he grated to himself, his enormous eyes swiveling around to watch the passing schools of small fish that prowled the waters of the Boardwalk and nibbled at humanity's refuse. He wondered idly if there was a stronger connection between himself and them than there appeared to be. He could feel the soft thuds of the feet pounding away on the shore, and he realized that there seemed to be more around this part of the city than had been felt a little downriver. A gathering of some kind? Perhaps a celebration, though I cannot judge the step. He shook his head I will not learn how to move in this civilization just by listening, let us see... he turned languidly to the shore, his tail transforming into a pair of thick legs as he let himself drift to the sloping bank. Once his feet touched and partially sank into the mud, he walked laboriously uphill due to his heavy and ornate bronze armor decorated with the animals that lurked in the depths, black eyes fixed on the glittering world above, fin-like fans of hair waving in the sluggish river and catching stray strands of seaweed. With a sudden uproar in the water, the massive red-scaled triton burst out with a splash directly in front of Eliza, lidless fish eyes staring coldly around at the sunlit city for a few minutes. At last deciding to notice the human directly in front of him, he turned his heavy head towards her, opened his fanged jaws and spoke in a harsh gurgle that resolved itself in her brain as "Hail, human. I am Wave-Eye, a defender of your city's waters, what is..this? I have never seen anything like it before, what does it do?" he asked, gesturing with a spined claw at the mighty Ferris wheel "And what are you called?"he asked, one eye flicking over her with grim curiosity while the other stared at the passing humans.

Tagged to the heights and depths.

GM With a final press on the numberpad, a panel opened on the wall to reveal a retinal scanner and small microphone. Without removing his helmet, the officer leaned down, saying "Groan, vat code 04A-2" he stepped away, letting the other officer space to lean over to the mic and say "Flay, vat code 04A-3." With that, the doors opened soundlessly, and the two began to march down the grey corridor it revealed. Which was nigh-identical to the one they had just left. They marched in perfect step in single-file, nodding briefly to the guards that they passed, all of whom carried heavy weapons that were to the guns seen in the reception hall as a water pistol is to a bazooka. The vent Myrmidon indicated was perfectly parallel to the path they were taking, leading to an imposing black door that was barred, irised and shimmered with a barely-visible force field. The now-cramped tunnel that led into the ventilation system of the room had no such precautions. Behind them, they could hear the distant noises of heavy machinery, and every surface softly vibrated to the mechanical tune of whatever it was that had been set up beneath the foundations of the bar. After a short inspection at the imposing door from the at least partially mechanical guards, the two officers were given back their uniforms(unsurprisingly revealing they had features nigh-identical to John Smith's) and permitted into the office of their superiors, the doors closing smartly and suddenly behind them. From their vantage point, the two beheld an unexpected scene. Two unhelmeted clones, one wearing skin-tight black spandex under a lightly-armored exoskeleton that glistened darkly in the stark light, the other wearing flowing robes over a more conventional version of the SHADOW uniform than any seen in the base so far. They were poring over large displays of some kind of gun platform on legs, making adjustments to the model and its accompanying equations while tossing peanuts into each other's mouths with impeccable aim, with the only words that passed between munches being "Magic" "Science" repeated endlessly. At the entrance of the two officers, however, they ceased their exchange, the one advocating for magic turning gleaming and hawk-like eyes on the two with a look of cool disdain, while the one standing for the scientific method actually smiled at the two. As one, the officers bowed, saying "Quaestor, Doctor, intruders have entered the facility on the last opening, the alarm will shortly be sounded, are there any orders?" The two who seemed to be in charge glanced at each other, before the Quaestor said crisply, in a nearly-precise imitation of Myrmidon's voice "I will retire to the southern levels and attempt to divine their location. Send a few cyborgs and a platoon of wolves from the chambers to guard me" without any further talk, he snapped his fingers and vanished in a roar of blue flame. The doctor sighed and looked apologetically at the officers, saying in his own mimicry "I'm sorry about Burkehardt, he's been troubled with the results of the last batches from the prisons, they never turn out like he wants. I'll go to the west wing, and reinforce this level, stand by for additional soldiers coming from the barracks. Be safe" he added with a note of genuine concern before placing a finger on the towering blue screen behind him, which before the eyes of the two superheroes drew the image into it, deactivating the computer. Tapping the belt of the exoskeleton he said clearly "Dr. Agate, requesting transit, square B-5" and was gone in a shimmer of green light. Instantly afterwards, a pulsating, grating noise of the common alert used by SHADOW roared to life, overpowering the sensation of thrumming from below with its insistence. The officers gave not the least start, turning and tapping the exit code before leaving the room for the blaring corridors that were already filled with the additional noise of pounding feet.

Upon their arrival at the Drunken Mule, Marceau observed the scene beneath the bizarre ship and gave the good Captain a sweeping bow, saying "Many thanks for your allowing us to travel on your wondrous vessel, Stormbreaker. With any luck and the favor of God, this unfortunate matter is nearing its end." He leaped onto the edge of the ship's rail amidships, balancing against a convenient line as he attached the anchor of his grapple gun before dropping unceremoniously off, releasing the tough cord gradually as he swung elegantly to the ground in front of the bar, landing with a swirl of his black and red cape and a soft thud of his boots. Rising to his full height and flourishing the cape back around his shoulders, he smiled warmly at the regulars "Good day, gentlemen! Have no fear, I and my comrades are looking for one person specifically." Turning to the man in the white apron, he said casually with a kind smile "I beg your pardon, citizen, but are you by any chance named Tory Vetto? We need to ask you a few questions about a meta-virus that was stolen and released upon the city" he placed a hand on the bartender's shoulder "It is a matter of considerable urgency" he added with a hint of steel in his voice.

"It shall be done, brother!" croaked the supposed Redcap, amazed he still hadn't somehow given the game away by now. Hurrying off through the throngs of Fey charging towards the signal flare, he quickly found a suitably large torch attached to a bundle of smooth white sticks set in an iron stand. Slipping it carefully out of the stand's grasp, he looked into its waving fire, watching the camp through the beckoning flame... Well he thought grimly you did want a fire! Without further ado he held the brand against the sun-bleached tent which almost immediately began to smolder. Galvanized, he sprang fully into action, sneaking around the side of the camp the flare had come from and hastily letting the torch's flames embrace the dry canvas of the tents, yelling after most of them were beginning to burn in earnest "Brothers! Some fiend has gotten loose! It has set the tents on fire!" he had no doubt that they would never fall for such a pathetic ruse, and he also had no doubt he could beat them all if need be. "Whatever happens, I must give Parsinkle as much time as I can..."

As far as Jay knows, it can't actually affect the human body in any noticeable way.

Seeing the packed mass of bodies belonging to the cultists charging towards him and the prisoners, Marceau blinked in surprise. To the prisoners he said quietly "Keep going, take that turn on the left" he gestured down the tunnel, leaning against the wall to let the three hurry past. That done, he stepped back into the middle of the vent(as best as he could bent forward) and called out sharply to the all-but heedless cultists "All of you, stop! Nothing is chasing you!" At the sudden words, the would-be stampede stopped in its tracks, the cultists glancing behind themselves nervously, some of the rear-guard slamming heavily into those who had heard the King of Suits' clearly and already stopped. After the chaos had been mostly sorted out, Marceau repeated himself "Don't run! Nothing is chasing you here" Or so it seems he reminded himself dourly, peering into the blackness behind them as he went on "Follow me, we will be out of here in just a few minutes, but you can't panic or you will bring that snake's attention to us, which is just what we don't want to happen" he turned at scuttled rapidly in the direction of the vertical exit "Follow me..."

Works for me, their transmissions are totally blocked and such.

Kingy will use Diplomacy attempt to try and stop the stampede in the vent tunnel: 21 That works.

He was just out there, he'll blasted well know it's sunny!

Fiating that it does nothing, as one of them pulls a gun and blasts the pellet clean out of the air! Have a HP(HP3). King of Suits leaps down to deliver a red card to the attackers! Move action down using the Grapple gun, targeting the closest of them. Accurate Attack(+-2) roll:27! Fiating that misses, and he is promptly downed by a dogpile of the attackers! +1HP(HP3)

Struggling ineffectually as he was dragged into the water, a surge of relief came over El Heraldo as he and the walking corpse dove in and he remembered Of course! I can breathe underwater! Time to turn the tables! With a terrific push of his loci-enhanced muscles, he forced himself out of the vampire's clutching embrace, snapping "Lady, if you keep at this I'll make you pay for what you've already done thatmuch quicker! Get back!" he cried while directing a swift punch at her head, that in the dense water was slowed enough for her to barely evade. We can't all be winners he thought ruefully, shooting backwards to another end of the shark tank. Eyes locked on his enemy. I hope Glow's okay with that snake guy...wait a sec, of course not! I gotta help! But I need to figure out how to beat her first, and that doesn't look too likely. Why couldn't I be one of those ultra-competent guys, like..like just about everyone else at school? How dare you disparage my gifts so glibly! Have they not served you well, Subito? Or do you think those others gained their power and skills by random chance? her voice grew softer I know you are upset you are not as powerful as you need to be here, but you will not win by being frustrated, try to immobilize her somehow she suggested.

About 300ft. from them.

The King of Suits shrugged broadly, palms upward. "I have not the faintest idea, Penitent" he told Bram apologetically "I am an investigator and a crime-fighter, my studies of the occult and the higher spheres of reality are minute at best. I can tell you what this creature did here, but not why or who they were. That would require a magician's expertise, like the Witch Equinox" he suggested, recalling a brief interview with her about an extradimensional wizard. He glanced around the apartment, a slight note of gloom in his voice "But we do not seem to have the time necessary to contact such an expert. For now, let us assume it is a demon who has transformed itself to look like you" still speaking, he took a cursory tour around the apartment, checking for any clues he had missed "A priest told me once that demons could make themselves look like angels of light in order to lead people from the path of God. It is quite probable one is doing the much less difficult task of looking like you, and seeking to undo the good you have done here" he explained, checking under a carpet with great care on his hands and knees. Looking up at Bram he added "But that is, of course, a guess and nothing more. If I had some way of detecting magical..or whatever it is that magicians use to track demons and other occult monsters, I would have more to offer" he got to his feet, flicking off the dirt from the floor. "Whatever they are, we have some information and not a few clues. What do you say we meet back up with Mz. Revenant and Starlight?"

Edit'd by Fox Wave-Eye 16PP spent, 8 on Impervious(Toughness), 2 on Wisdom, 4 on Attack and Defense, and 2 on Knowledge(Theology)/ [b]Player Name:[/b] Arichamus [b]Character Name:[/b] Wave-Eye [b]Power Level:[/b] 8 (136/136PP) [b]Trade-Offs:[/b] -4 Attack/ +4 Damage (Conch) [b]Unspent Power Points:[/b] 0 [b]Progress To Silver Status:[/b] 16/60 (Bronze status earned with King of Suits) [b]In Brief:[/b] De-powered and disgraced triton who has come to Freedom City hoping to gain entry to the Freedom League(believing them to be Siren 's retinue), and make amends for what he's done. [b]Alternate Identity:[/b] Nochehuatl [b]Identity:[/b] Public, most people don't know what he actually is, though. [b]Birthplace:[/b] What is now the Rocas Atoll off the coast of Brazil. actual birthplace lost in geologic shifts. [b]Occupation:[/b] Marine guardian, superhero. [b]Affiliations:[/b] Atlantis, sea gods, marine creatures, Freedom City Coast Guard, Charity. [b]Family:[/b] Chimali(biological father, long deceased), Tlaloc(stepfather) Chalchiuhtlicue(mother) [b]Description:Age: [/b]12,007 (DoB: 9989 B.C. [b]Apparent Age:[/b] N/A [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Ethnicity:[/b] Red-scaled from waist to foot(when transformed), otherwise vaguely ruddy, with prominent facial features with no distinguishable analog to human ethnicity. [b]Height:[/b] 7ft. [b]Weight:[/b] 400lbs./181.4kg. [b]Eyes:[/b] Blue. [b]Hair:[/b] Dull green. Nochehuatl is an unusually tall, broad-shouldered, roughly human sort. His broad mouth full of sharp teeth, interconnected hairs, bulging eyes, spined, claw-like hands and reddish, finely scaled skin proves otherwise however; not to mention the fact that he can transform his legs into a powerful tail, tipped with a dragon's arrowhead. A marker of his cultural origin, he retains the piercings, tattoos and ritual scars that cover most of his body from head to tail from his days in the armies he has fought with. In imitation of the heroes who protect the surface world he wears a costume in the form of light ornamental bronze armor decorated with carvings of sea life. [b][u]Power Descriptions:[/u][/b] None of his external powers have returned yet, though he can change his tail into a pair of scaled legs similar to a humans with a flash of light. The water that flows from his scarred conch is streaked with thin red bands reminiscent of diluting blood, and [b][u]History:[/u][/b] A "triton" is one of two things: the oceanic deity and messenger of the sea, or one of the manifold children of sea gods who serve as guards and solders of the marine deities. Wave-Eye is one of the second. Born thousands of years ago off the coast of what was to become Brazil to the ancient human sailor Chimali, and Chalchiuhtlicue the Aztec goddess of water, Nochehuatl lived many years in the rush of constant training, eager to take his place in the serried ranks of the marine deities' armies. His adoption by the dreaded fertility god Tlaloc after his marriage to Chalchuihtlicue was a profound impetus in that direction due to the god's distinct disfavor on a half-blooded creature as his ward. In those days, the waves hurled and crashed over an immense, bitter struggle for control of the waters of the planet, into which he enthusiastically flung himself at the tender age of 56, an auxiliary commander in the army of his mother. His motivation by filial affection was tempered somewhat by the ever-present fear of his father, who while he ruled a pastoral afterlife of ease and plenty, never lost his taste for blood. One of his first duties as a young triton was to gather the souls of those sacrificed to his father and bring them to the Tlalocan, which left an indelible impression on him, a mingling of fear at what the god demanded in return for his services, and awe that people would give so much for them. In contrast to his distant paternal relationship, he often saw and spoke with his mother in her murky home far below the surface, in the underground lakes and rivers that he spent much of his childhood in and learned the rudiments of morality in her care. At the age of 240 he obtained his parent's permission to leave his home, and travel abroad, where he fought for and against nearly every power in the waters, watching with curiosity as the Atlanteans built up their civilization after sinking beneath the waves. He tended to avoid them, as they had little love for creatures like him. By the time the majority of the war was over in 4000 B.C., he had been banished into the worming caves beneath the surface of the Earth, serving whatever dragons or small gods would have his power, deformed by a curse of the dragon Mizuchi to bear a mark of shame for his initial refusal to send deadly serpents into the boats and homes of fishermen who refused to worship him(an incident resulting from the stirrings of a late-born conscience), gnawing the bitter anger of his shaming for what he saw as a foolish and childish exercise. At length, as he slid and swam through the dark caverns of the world, he heard rumors of the slow changes, and he felt the shift of the dimensions at the sealing of the Pact. Encouraged by this though grieved that it would now be much harder to visit his parents, he ventured out into the wider world of the dimly-remembered waters in the year 1500 A.D. In the ensuing ages, he gave his strength to whatever cause seemed kindest and most likely to benefit humans. However, aside from bringing fish to people and driving away sea monsters, his efforts were distressingly limited. It was in the year 2004 A.D. that he first heard about Siren, from two Newfoundland fishermen. The paucity of truly beneficial work he could do led him to thinking: seeing as this Siren did good works all over the world, maybe he could make up for some of his evil actions towards humans if he got into her service. After deliberating for the better part of a decade, he finally set out for the Freedom City in 2010, taking care to reconnoiter the waters around the city as best as he could. In the centuries after the 1800's, he had done very little in the way of exercise or combat practice, and so had gradually retreated from battle altogether, leaving him in a state he knew was downright pitiable compared to his old glory.At last, in 2012, he ventured into the city itself, centuries since he had last walked among humans... [b][u]Personality & Motivation:[/u][/b] After all that's happened to him, Nochehuatl is grim. A life filled with endless struggle, battle and nearly ceaseless killing on the behalf of others has deeply embittered him to fighting after learning its real cost, but it's the only thing he's known or fully understood in eons, and old habits die hard. The ancient gods hold the majority of his awe(though he knows how selfish and cruel most of them can be), but humans he has much more indeterminate feelings about, a mingling of curiosity at what they'll end up doing in the physical world and envy that he'll never really be part of it. On the other hand, he bitterly regrets the evils he did to them in the past, and has been wondering how to make up for them in the eons after he was cursed. Ultimately he has no idea what he really wants to do, whether to remain in Siren's service if he gets into it, seek out something higher, or to find a way to become more human in his morals and thought. [b][u]Powers & Tactics:[/u][/b]The deterioration of his skills has reduced the once nigh-legendary warrior to a simple brute. He leaves finer combat to others, and simply lunges into the fray, relying on his diminished strength to win the day for him. Defensively, his skin is tough enough to repel small arms fire, and even the shots of a machine gun, so he rarely seeks cover unless he absolutely needs to. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b][u]Complications:[/u][/b] [b]Monster!:[/b] Nochehuatl looks quite fearsome to humans, and his appearance is likely going to get him into trouble sooner or alter. [b]Reputation:[/b] Among magical circles, Nochehuatl's history as a a brutal mercenary is well-known, and finding allies amongst such beings might be that much more difficult. "[b]This looks like a job for...!":[/b] He tends to assume he knows more about a situation than he really does, which translates to him attempting to take the lead on things he often knows next to nothing about. [b][u]Abilities:[/u][/b] 16 + 6 + 16 + 0 + 2 - 4 = 36PP Strength: 26 (+8) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Constitution: 26 (+8) Intelligence: 10 (+0) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 6 (-2) [b][u]Combat:[/u][/b] 10 + 14 = 24PP Initiative: +3 Attack: +5 Base, +9 Melee Grapple: +20, 22 w/Move Object Defense: +9 (+7 Base, +2 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4 [b][u]Saving Throws:[/u][/b] 1 + 2 + 6 = 9PP Toughness: +8 (+8 Con, +8 Impervious) Fortitude: +9 (+8 Con, +1) Reflex: +5 (+3 Dex, +2) Will: +6 (+0 Wis, +6) [b][u]Skills:[/u][/b] 40R = 10PP Handle Animal 12(+10) Intimidate 8(+6) Knowledge(History) 12(+12) Knowledge(Theology) 8 (+8) [b][u]Feats:[/u][/b] 9PP Animal Empathy Attack Specialization 2(Unarmed) Dodge Focus 2 Environmental Adaption(Underwater) Improved Grab Improved Pin Interpose [b][u]Powers:[/u][/b] 2 + 6 + 13 + 4 + 4 + 8 + 5 = 51PP [b]Comprehend 2[/b](Animals; Flaws: Broad Type(Sea Creatures))[2PP] [b]Comprehend 3[/b](Languages, All Spoken and Understood)[6PP] [b]Device 4[/b](Easy-To-Lose, Feats: Restricted(divine beings)[13PP] Conch of the Red Wave [device][b]Wave-Forming Array 9[/b](18PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 2)[20PP] [array]BP: [b]Damage 12[/b]( Extras: Area(Targeted, Cone 1200ft), Selective; Flaws: Action(Full-Round), Distracting; Feats: Indirect, Homing 2, Progression (Area) 3)[18PP] AP: [b]Create Object 12[/b](120ft. cube; Extras: Continuous, Movable; Flaws: Action(Full-Round), Distracting, Fades; Feats: Innate, Progression (Size), Slow Fade, Stationary, Subtle, Tether)[18PP] AP:[b] Move Object 18[/b](Effective Strength 90, Heavy Load 32k tons, Grapple 22, Range 240-1200ft.; Flaws: Limited(Water)[18PP][/array][/device] [b]Immunity 4[/b](Aging, Cold(environment), High Pressure, Drowning)[4PP] [b]Impervious Toughness 8[/b][8PP] [b]Super-Senses 4[/b](Darkvision, Tremorsense)[4PP] [b]Super-Strength 4[/b](Light Load: 685Lbs., Medium Load: 1466Lbs., Heavy Load: 1840Lbs., Maximum Load: 3680Lbs.)[8PP] [b]Tail Array 2[/b](4PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power)[5PP] [array]BP: [b]Swimming 4[/b](25MPH)[4PP] AP: [b]Speed 2[/b](25 MPH)[2PP][/array] [b][u]Drawbacks:[/u][/b] (-3) + (-0) = -3PP Vulnerable(vs. Fire Attacks)(Common, Moderate)[-3PP] [b][u]DC Block[/u][/b] [code]ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC23 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Blast Touch DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Create Object Ranged DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Totals: Abilities (36) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (9) + Skills (10) + Feats (9) + Powers (51) - Drawbacks (3) = 136/136 Power Points Edit'd by Fox