Ari

GM The blow from the staff sent shivers down its length into Omen's hands, caused by the sudden halting of the swiftly-moving rod as it struck the Driogano family's principle underboss. With a slow moan of pain, the man slumped to the ground, his balding head striking the worn concrete with a sharp thud, the gun clattering from his grip as his body sagged and slumped into a nearly boneless state of repose. The watchmen were still insensible thanks to Quarrel's quick bowmanship, and the bodyguards were no better off. All in all, the deal was at least stalled. By this point, the shots and sights of the smoke had alerted the local citizenry and police, not to mention the fire department, whose wailing sirens signaled their speedy approach...

GM With a soft whisper of displaced air, one of the vaguely more human robots slid casually towards El Heraldo, pulled back its left arm, and punched with a great deal of force, slamming its fist against the teen's right shoulder hard enough to send the boy staggering backwards through the air, a deep purple bruise beginning to form from the impact of the fist. One of the three robots nigh-identical to the two Fulcrum had sent packing let loose a hollow roar, and as before a panel dilated open in its chest, and a column of blazing energy shot forth, thankfully missing her and evaporating a vast gulf of water behind her left hip, the steam being left behind rapidly enough to not impede anyones' vision. For better or worse. A white twenty-something man wearing a thickset body, a buzz cut and overalls was manning the cannon closest to the metal monster that had shot at Fulcrum let loose a barrage from his cannon, only for every shot to fly harmlessly past the eerie thing and plow into the bay. The agents at the aft wailed in terror at what seemed to them to be their impending demise.

That hits! DC21 TOU check: 18, fails. Okay, Combat is ended, all enemies subdued! Great job HG_M and sheep!

Combat over, talky times!

El Heraldo looked in amazement at the holographic robot as it withstood Arcturus and Glow's attacks. The way things had gone previously, he had assumed that they would easily plow through the things, and the idea they might have trouble even with such small fry as this did a great deal to change his perspective on the so-called 'minions' employed by supervillains. Be that as it may he reminded himself I've never heard of many heroes having all that much trouble with them, and it has only been a few minutes at most. So thinking, he hurled himself into the last robot feet-first, the double impact apparently too much for its defenses to stand up to, and it smashed to pieces on the ground before collapsing back up into the ceiling. Subito gave a short whistle as he watched it dissolve "I'll bet not many real robots will do that" he commented. Turning to the other three he gave a cheery fist-pump "Alright! Great job guys!" he began to walk back over to the others, thinking to himself Thank you Blue Dame. I return your power, the costume dissolving back into the flag stitched under the overlay of his shirt, leaving him back in his jeans and blue t-shirt.

GM Arcturus's lightening-charged punch slammed into the being of light without fail. However, the thing had apparently been fitted with shock-absorbers, as bent with the punch, the force hardly scuffing its holographic paint. As the attacks of the young heroes either bounced off or went wide, the robot's targeting reticule(now visible since it was moving through the visible light spectrum)swivled from Glow to El Heraldo, firing a rapid, searing bolt at the novice hero that hissed just over his shoulder, taking out a broad chunk of his costume's left shoulder, causing a small(and hurriedly suffocated)fire on the youth's arm. The glowing lines of the Ddom Room seemed to have almost imperceptibly shifted, as they all now flowed into the square the last robot occupied.

That's an unholy mess. So I guess DoomBot#3 goes. A blast at Heraldo: 11, misses. Round 3. Heraldo: 0HP, Unharmed Arcturus: 1HP, Unharmed Glow: 1HP, Unharmed Net Fly: 0HP, Unharmed DoomBot#3 Heraldo's up, Kick Attack on DoomBot#3. 14, hits. DC24 TOU save for DoomBot#3: 13. #3 is down.

That hits, the DC is indeed 22 TOU, the 'bot's roll: 30..what?! Net Fly is up.

<"Think about it this way Frederick"> Marceau said grimly, <"Will fewer people really laugh at you if they learn that a man turned to magic to escape the taunts of others? Magic is a powerful tool, and using it for such a narrow purpose as getting revenge for being slighted has inspired mockery before"> he leaned against a nearby marble wall, feeling the chill seep back into him, the light dust in the air causing him to briefly wrinkle his nose <"I don't blame you for feeling trapped, but what will this do for you that a steady exercise regimen won't? If you try to use whatever powers are in that amulet, do you even know for sure it won't just turn you into a horrific monster and devour everyone who can't fight back? Bargains for power have little chance of NOT turning against you, even if you have decades of experience with them"> bouncing slightly off the wall he wandered closer to Frederick, looking over at him with sudden confusion <"Where did you even get something called the Invincible Amulet of Invincibility?"> Seeing the nervousness on the man's face he added in a slightly kinder tone <"I won't hurt you if you don't try anything Frederick, but this is very dangerous and I can't guarantee that I can get you out of this safely"> he looked piercingly at Frederick <"But I dare say you had no idea about the inexplicable deaths recently, did you? The demon I suspect gave you that trinket was involved in them, just so you know">

Okay that hits. Now for the DC15 TOU saving throw: 21. Darn. EDIT: Actually, the DC is 20, my mistake. Glow, you're up!

The stocky youth nodded thoughtfully as Kristin spoke, he had been feeling uncertain as to how much good sending word would do anyway. Not calling was much more to Subito's liking, especially considering what Kristin had mentioned about how vague they would have to be if they had tried to tell someone at the school what was happening and avoided speculation. Turning neatly on his heel he walked in the direction of where he had heard this 'Diego Cruz' character spent his of time, chatting unconcernedly with his schoolmate "What d'you think of Freedom City so far Kris? I've noticed quite a few new students aren't from around here, and I gotta admit: I'm curious what this" he gestured to both the dingy warehouses and docks nearby and the gleaming, almost impossibly grand towers in the downtown of the city "My parents moved here when I was eight, so I don't really remember Puerto Rico all that well, this place has just about always felt like home" he looked placidly before them, eyes alert for any danger,

Things have been pretty fair all around. The new Young Freedom is realy pulling together it seems, the Interceptors are getting ready to move into a new place, the unaffiliated heroes are starting to pick up, and Scolar, Harrier, Wraith and Victory are in a Predator-esque situation in the Mintaka system after some Fang Mother-worshipping jerks kidnapped them.

Okay, using the Medium Robots from the Core Rules for the base of the new smaller Deathkillers 5000000000002, adding sixteen PP to bring their Dex from 9 to 12, and give them Flight rank 3, Concealment(Auditory Senses) rank 1, and Strike 5. Combat Begins Anew. Rolling Initiative. (For the Metas, using the Bystander template with 2 ranks in (element) control). In order, the three Dark Metals: 5, 9, 14. The two Deep Eyes: 18, 3. The Metas: 4, 8, 9, 5, 14, 3. So, order is: 1.Deep Eye 1 2.Dark Metal 3 3. Meta 5 4. Fulcrum 5. Dark Metal 2 6. Meta 3 7. Meta 2 8. Heraldo 9. Dark Metal 1 10. Meta 4 11. Meta 1 12. Deep Eyes 2 Jan. 2nd: Well, that took way too long. So now the Deep Eye#1 will punch El Heraldo. 25, a critical hit. DC20 TOU save: 21, a Bruise. Dark Metal 3 shoots at Fulcrum: 17, misses. Meta 5 shoots the cannon at Dark Metal 3: 12, miss. Fulcrum's turn!

"...So, as best as I could find out," concluded Subito after rambling off what he had learned about the matter "this El Sierpe must be involved with the drugging of those immigrant Mexicans. I dunno how he's managing it, but I think he might be doing this to discourage people from trying to escape him" he frowned as he looked up at the sky "This Diego Cruz guy might be able to tells us more, I say we look for him right away, but maybe we ought to at least tell someone at Claremont what's up?" His eyes had slowly worked their way down from the zenith of the sky to Kristin's left pupil "Whaddaya think?"

Eh, just use the ChatRoll. Either click on the 'roll die' option in the dropdown menu under your name in Chat, or write /roll 1d20+(bonus).

Swinging his trusty Bandera about his head, Subito called to the other students "Guys! Focus on the one I'm about to attack, we're almost there!" with that, he flew just short of the robot maked with the number '3' on its chest, and swinging his arm back he focused carefully and shot forward, his super-powered fist crashing into the robot with deliberated might. However, he misjudged the force with which he punched, and the fact that for the holographic robots the head was a weak point.. With a sound of crumbling steel, his fist plowed through the robot's carpace, ending up on the other side of its head. Subito stared at it for a moment and said at last "Er..the next one I guess" he hurriedly removed his arm from the vanishing hologram.

Subito gave a low whistle, recalling his own comparatively tame first use of his-the powers granted me he sternly reminded himself. No reason to get confused on that score, the Blue Dame certainly wouldn't. At her reminder of their task he nodded emphatically "I know some places around here we can find some of new immigrant folks. Don't think they'll be too keen on telling us anything, but we can at least try and find something out. Try to be engaged, if you can, if the people you're talkin' to get the idea that you want help, they'll be a lot more eager to try and get you what you need to do it. If they think you're just being nosy they'll send you packing" accelerating his steps he led the way towards a group of warehouses "Last I checked this is about where some of them are staying until they find work..." Once they had spoken with seemingly half the Spanish-speaking population of Freedom City, and had found a good place to talk over their findings, Subito had a much more thoughtful look on his face "Okayyy," he began, "This is what I managed to find out:..."

Mid Town of Freedom City, USA on a wintery Saturday... With a terrific crack! the door collapsed behind the drug seller as he hurtled into it, exposing the dimly-lit circle of sinister figures clustered around the circular table in the meeting the informant had mentioned was to take place. The dashing crusader for justice, Ace of Suits, resplendent as ever in his red and white attire(with a breastplate shaped like an over-sized playing card affixed to his trunk)strode into the room, fixing the swarthy villains with a bright eye and brighter smile under his curled mustache "Well well well, what have we here?" he chuckled at the now cowering corrupted crime-pedlars "That kid you thought would never talk has told everything, you're finished! From this day forward" he added darkly "I am henceforth declaring WAR on you and anyone else who tries to sell drugs in my city!" the ten suited men dropped their jaws in shock, gasping out the broken fragments of sentences that went "But, you can't mean...!""You fool...!""How did you...?!" and so on, until one of their number, a large and imposing man with a permanent scowl on his face, stood up and lifted a hand, this gesture silencing the panicking merchants of death. "But Ace!" he said in tones of abject horror "we sell drugs in this city! Do you mean to deal so harshly with us, honest businessmen all?" Ace stared in confusion at this incident of inanity "I..just saiHGMMMMFF!!" this exclamation was due to the large sack tossed over his head by the recovered dealer, who tightened the strings, kicked Ace to the ground, and aimed his gun at the prone figure. The drug lords laughed evilly. Some twirled their sinisterly unshorn mustachios. His resolve to pull the trigger was shaken somewhat when the booted feet caught him precisely where Ace's boots had struck hardly a minute before, sending the dealer to the ground in a heap, staring in pain at the large, mustachioed man above him. Marceau Suvou, the mysterious African from the jungles of Sudan, walked over the groaning body, gazing with contempt at the huddle around the table. With a flick of his ebony wrist, a bladed card slicing off the rope and cutting open the hood in a smooth arc of metal. Turning to the men before him he growled "A pack of vile jackals, effendi" his eyes smoldered in their sockets "I shall strike them down where they stand" drawing a curved sword from his belt, the richly-dressed African strode towards the now terrified drug-merchants, and raising it level with the neck of the large man who had distracted Ace, he gave a cry of anger and swung it with all his might! With a dull 'clunngg', the blade struck the outstretched armored hand of Ace, who had moved to counter his comrade's blow "Nuh-uh, Sultan of Suits" he said briskly "We don't kill like these fiends do: we hand them over to the criminal justice system that was set up to do that" the tail of the Sultan's left eye glared daggers at his mentor(and the savior of his life), but let the blade fall to his side, slid it back into its sheath and set about collecting the drug dealers' masterminds. After silencing their impotent threats of future retribution(Ace marveling at the efficiency of modern prisons, that seemed to make the worst of criminals simply disappear), the two costumed crime-fighters saluted Freedom's Finest and fired away into the night. They didn't have to go long to find more evil afoot: Doc Holiday II had begun her Christmas rampage through the snowy streets, tearing down the beautiful streamers and banners decorating the city in her robotic Santa Claus suit, and sending her robotic minions disguised as elves to vandalize the storefront decorations and interior markers of holiday cheer that brightened the souls of all who saw them, and destroying the speakers that sent the gentle tunes of everyone's favorite Christmas songs twirling through the air. The mechanical elves were hardly a threat to the two experienced heroes, and Ace watched in awe more times than once as his more pugnacious friend tore through their ranks, his sword-blade slick with oil from their innards. After a grueling half-hour of battle, the two had carved their way to the red titan piloted by the scurrilous Doc Holiday II, facing down the machine and its gargantuan sack of 'presents'(mostly bombs). While Ace distracted the pilot with well-slung barbs against her weight and dexterity, the Sultan raced about the craft, slicing whatever needed cutting, and sending explosive and electrically-charged cards into the gaps presented by the armored mech. Despite the valiant efforts of its pilot, the metal terror at last crashed to earth, the sinister grin on its face dying as the power was spent. Doc Holiday II clambered awkwardly out of the pilot seat, facing the two superheroes with as much defiance as she could muster "Hahaha!" she cackled, "Even if you FOOLS have caught me, nothing will stop me come New Year's! Let's see how much you like it when the city's fireworks goes haywire, and destroys the newly-built orphanage block!" the Sultan leaped forward, gripping her by the collar of her feminized Santa Claus outfit and lifting her into the air telling her furiously "You'll never succeed in that! I and the Ace will stop you, even if no-one else does!" the villainess sneered at the hero "Oh really? Does the city need guarding by Afros now? Have all the real protectors abandoned this place?" the silence was almost palpable, as was the seething rage evident on Moussa's face as he slowly pulled back his arm. Before he could punch Doc Holiday however, Ace said "Wrong Doc, this place needs everyone, no matter the color of their skin or where they're from, to stop people like you. I don't see how you can say stuff like that Holiday" he added "When you're from Louisiana!" the Sultan's mouth twitched, he burst out laughing and tossed Doc Holiday back into the broken cockpit, and embraced Ace, saying in his ear "Well said, my friend!" escorting the doctor to the nearest police station, the robotic elves having seemed to vanish in the interim, they waved and cheered as the familiar gold and blue figure of the Centurion sailed past into the night above them, calling down "A merry Christmas to to you all, and to all a good night!" The Sultan smiled up at the glorious champion above them, and turning to Ace was about to wonder aloud who he might be if the man had wanted a secret identity when the black dots swirled about him... The Fens, Christmas Eve Marceau Suvou woke up with a start, staring into the beard of Creaker, the ancient lawyer fallen on hard times. Gently moving him to the side, the young man wandered over to the window looking out into the city, wondering what to make of that strange dream. That wasn't me at all, and neither was that Ace. Who would dream up a pair like that? Lost in thought, he watched the moon fall over the mountains, the dream remaining in his memory with peculiar vividness...

Gather Information roll:

"I don't know much about what newly-arrived people won't do if they're desperate enough, but I'm sure they wouldn't fill themselves with toxin and jump in the bay" agreed Subito, keeping pace with Kristin on quiet lopes, "Wouldn't hurt to at least try and find out what's going on" he added casually "The odds of some low-life trying to get in control of the immigrant population this way are higher than I'd like to think" Turning to Kristin he asked "Thirty? Really? What did they think they'd see? Were they hoping you'd lose control of your powers or something?"

Intimidate check against Mr. Theylaughedatme! :

<"Which they still will, no matter what powers you gain"> Marceau replied flatly, pulling back his cowl, seeing no purpose it could serve here. Walking firmly towards the power-hungry man he continued in his usual voice, growing colder and more final with every sentence. He wished he could have come earlier, the museum showing the Arc's history. The models reminded him of the old crumbling things he had seen all over the strange corners of Romania he had been to once upon a time..but there was no time to lose here, evil had to be averted. <"And that's not the worst of it. You're not just going to imbue yourself with power you haven't earned(which I might add is VERY hard to regain if lost), you're betraying the human race. By allying with this demon, Gallu, who's face I see on that amulet, you're giving the beast a foothold in this world. With you as its tool this demon shall use you to promote violence, fear and anger that shall leave their stains on the souls of those who experience them long after you have been dealt with by those with higher authority than I. This demon will then simply take you to hell leaving your branded corpse as a mockery to those who battle it, and so encourage in all who hear of this a bitterness and sense of evil as absolute that shall do more harm than you could do on your own in twelve hundred years"> Picking up a pen, left by some careless tourist the day before, he flung it with uncanny precision at the center of the bull's head on the amulet <"That was not given to me by a demon, the strength I shall bring to bear against you was not granted by some monster, and the friends who SHALL avenge me if I prove unable to best you will not be phantasms conjured up to be a prop for weakness!"> he glared at the man before him <"The choice is yours, monsieur, either I beat you into the ground, or else you will relinquish that bauble and find some strength of your own. I can do it, there is no reason you can't either. Will it be hard? Of course! Will you ache and groan and sweat? Yes. But you'll be better off dealing with that rather than staying where you are, a butt for slurs and jibes, won't you?"> He had never talked so much to one person in such a short span of time in his life. He had the distinct idea that this wasn't the way most people in his situation did things.

"Well, thanks Mr. Royer, hope we hear from you when this thing is solved" Subito said brightly an as 'curious youth who respects authority' a way as he could be. "If you'll excuse me and Mz. Jones we'll be on our way" he added casually, giving a clandestine gesture to Kristin to follow him. Giving a polite wave as he led the way deeper into the maze of moored boats, he waited until they were out of sight to slump against a mostly clean support pillar and wipe away the beads of sweat that hadn't come from the sun...seeing as it was December and all. Looking at Kristin he said flatly "Kris, I hope you don't mind, but I wouldn't want to be famous if that's what it's really like"

"Don't mean to bother you Mr. Royer, but what can you tell us about those people who got fished out? Not really likely they just jumped into the bay for no reason, right?" he was more than a little on edge(seeing as Royer was most likely broadcasting everything he saw and heard to millions of people), which gave him a nearly overpower urge to fidget. He suppressed it as best he could, though he stood a little straighter than was normal even for him. His mind unbidden raced back to only two nights ago, when his mother and some 'family friends'(smuggled immigrants hiding in the neighborhood until work could be found for them)talking about a large number of deadly problems with a mysterious source in Mexico, which was sending people north looking for shelter. According to them, there was a rash of drug overdose-related deaths and sicknesses among the immigrants, which were hardly helping their image in the eyes of the American already living in the area. Adjusting his stance slightly he added "There's been talk of sick people from Mexico being smuggled into the 'States, were these people anything like those others?"

Pop Culture roll: Current Events roll: Diplomacy roll to ask Royer about the case: