Ari

18 on the REF roll, 27 on the FORT roll, so no further effect?

"<Sheep's offal, good butcher>" came the uncharacteristically terse reply, as the tail of his left eye was pretty firmly locked on the front door of the meat shop, in case a giant, fetid bull came through to try and start something. "<I don't imagine my friend will need more than a gram or two for what he's cooking up, how much will that be kind sir?>" he turned a smile of unfeined politeness and grace towards the butcher "<Don't mind the flies, I'm sure they'll soon be dealt with>" he added reassuringly, not wanting him to give dwell on just where the swarm had sprung from. Nonwtheless, he still remained alert in case behind the mask he detected the tell-tale stench.

Tie-breakin' time. Combot#4's roll:19

Okay, initiative time. Using the numbers from the Trainer Combots from the Crooks! book, their rolls: 9, 10, 5 and 7

GM As the four entered the wide enclosure of the simulator, a flat voice sounded "four mk.3 battle robots will be sent against you, defeat them using your individual abilities to assist each other. this test will not be graded or scored beyond a basic 'pass/fail' paradigm, good luck" It cut out without fanfare, and as it did so four cloumns of light stabbed out from the floor to the ceiling, collapsing into four generically sinister robots with a gun of some sort for a left arm. The voice spoke again, with cold finality "the test will begin in 3..2..1..begun, good luck" and with that it clicked out of existence, and the four holographic robots began to thrum with an illusion of energy coursing through their bodies, lighting. Up their eyes as they turned towards the four students and raised their left arms...

It took only a few seconds for the nightmarish possibility-no, nightmarish certainty to arise in. His mind. Why else would such a commotion of insects so suddenly appear, and who else but Gallu could be what they heralded? His brain began racing through the various escape methods he could use: grapple-gunning across the Parisian rooftops? The more he thought about it the more and more he returned to it. On the one hand it was hardly a surefire way to escape Gallu, but at the very least it would b e quicker than trying to escape on foot, and would potentially lead to fewer chances for people to die- He stopped his thinking short: what if he wasn't the target, what if the demon was coming around to kill someone else entirely? Mind buzzing with the unknowns facing him a sudden suspicion drew a darted glance at the elderly woman, as the "sorry" suddenly seemed a great deal less personally-meant. The idea that she might be in league with Gallu caused him to roll his eyes, and he directed his thoughts to the more immediate facts. Like how quickly he could find a place to remove the coveralls...

The yoing Frenchman laughed cheerily "<No worry of that, good butcher! Just toss over some sheep offal here>" he held out a gloved hand "<-and you'll not need to fear for the health of your meats>" To the apparently contrite old lady he said expansively "<It's alright ma'am, I'm sure I would be uneasy around someone who was sick too, think nothing of it. My name is Marceau Suvou, may I ask yours?>" he smiled as best he could around the mask, shuffling ahead as the line moved forward to admite Philipe.

Oh, okay then! Editing...

Subito had just learned that the transformation itself didn't require anyone else's benefit to be used(something he had long suspected but never outright asked for no good reason), and was presently floating upside down, dressed in his vibrant gold and blue herald's outfit, the cloth mask that covered most of his face from brow to upper lip appearing to be an extension of his face judging by how clearly it advertised every bit of the anxious look he directed at Net Fly for an instant. Subito was still unsure what was causing the drive for improvement after the fight at the mall, mere perfectionism would have smoothed it over a while ago into the laundry list of problems to be solved, and his friend hardly seemed inclined towards gloom for its own sake. He pondered the idea that Serge wanted to protect somebody close to himself and thus saw any weaknesses as a risk to them, and dismissed it out of hand, casting the matter aside until after the testing was done. Righting himself he floated towards the door into the nigh-legendary Doom Room in a soft golden haze, a thrill in his stomach telling him that he had been far more eager for this than he himself had bothered to think. "Let's do this" he murmured to himself, glancing curiously at Marcus and Kristin's signs of power. It would certainly be something to see them in action.

Pretty sire you need a definite target for a Feint, but whatever. If you're Acrobatically Bluffing the Driogano UB: 14, fails by 26(!!) Oliverti: 26, fails by 14(??). Also, Marcy first needs to catch up to the party Moving All-Out to move the 120ft. needed to enter Melee range. EDIT: why do that when there's the ranged option? Scratch that, attacking with the old boomerangs at the Oliverti UB: 27, hits. Oliverti UB Tou check DC21(due to KoS taking advantage of the Setup): 10...fails. Oliverti UB is out. EDIT: the AB was directed towards the Driogano UB, so actually that would be DC19. Fails by 9 rather than 11.

GM As the sable-clad protege of Foreshadow hurtled and fell just short of his target, the Underboss sent by the Driogano family spun on his heels(an ungainly sight)and drawing his pistol from its holster fired off an astonishingly well-aimed shot at his attacker. The bullet hit its intended target..and bounced off a curve in Omen's armor, only a sharp jolt of impact from his shoulder letting him know he had been hit at all, leaving the underboss in a fairly awkward situation.... The Oliverti emissary had even worse luck, a second pair of bolas whirling out of the warehouse to wrap him firmly in a tangle of line. With a yelp of surprise, he began to desperately bound forward in what is colloquially referred to as "the bunny hop".

GM It didn't take long for Martin to come up with a list of necessary supplies to complement Jay's, and before he had fallen asleep the two had figured out practically the entirety in number and weight of the items they would need for an optimal return. Jay's own rather brief sleeping needs were easily met without him having to sacrifice much in the way of security for the two. Fortunately enough, nobody attempted to disturb either Martin or Jay's slumber or life, and the warm Mediterranean night fled on its peaceful way. Once the morning came the two displaced personalities took their leave of the village, Martin politely accepting the sack of provisions the town leader had supervised the filling of. The trip to the city of Segesta was significantly different than that to the outlier village. Unlike that trek, they passed dozens of people on their way in or out of town, laden or unladen with heavy goods, on foot, on horseback or even seated on the back of one of a herd of cattle. The city itself wasn't easy to spot from further away than a mile or so from the road, not least due to the low-roofed style of Greek architecture. The familiar white walls and red-tiled roofs were largely obscured also by the bustle of humans about them, raising a cheerful din quite unlike that heard in Freedom City. Lean dogs raced between the legs and wheels that cluttered their world, sniffing curiously around the odd duo before shying at nothing and bolting into alleys to pursue some half-imaginary enemy. Martin looked about himself and asked quietly, after a deep breath "Where do you think we should begin our next act Mr. Xavier?"

Okay, so now the order is: Omen: Unharmed, Fatigued KoS: Unharmed (Quarrel is out for reason of supersheep's continued absence) Oliverti Underboss: Unharmed, Entangled. Driogano Underboss: Unharmed You're up HG!

GM The trip down to the fourth level of the Academy's sub-basement took noticeably longer than the journey down to the first. The twists, sudden jerks as the pod rapidly made its way and the sense speed were much less detectable however. It could be they were moving more slowly for whatever reason, or else they were hurtling downwards at an incredible velocity. Whatever the case, their arrival was heralded by a soft feeling of temporary weightlessness before the gentle sound of the pod's floor touching against something else of unyielding metal. The doors slid open, revealing the circular metal room covered with a regular pattern of lines dividing it into large squares. This place was referred to by the faculty almost exclusively as 'the simulator', but had gotten a new name after only a few months: the Doom Room. A different voice each of the students could place as coming from the enthusiastic teacher Alan Archer "Okay kids! In a few minutes the 'Room is gonna start up properly, and it'll give you the run-down on what to expect. I'd suggest keeping off the floor of the thing if you don't feel comfortable with it yet, no rush or pressure today!" it was almost possible to see the warm smile on Archer's face as he spoke, in stark contrast to Summer's icy impassiveness "First thing's I'd suggest ya do is get into costume if it's something you have to put on first, gives ya a little familiarity to help keep things from seeming too weird, and you'll probably want that when you see robots coming out of thin air!" With that, the lights previously shedding a sterile gleam over the simulator shut off with a sharp click, and with a faint hum the Doom Room was awakened.

Sense Motive roll DC15: 8, dang. Diplomacy roll DC10: 23, woohoo!

"<It's good to meet you, and to be able to tell you your uncle is in good health!>" exclaimed Marceau merrily, fond memories of his all-too brief time in France years ago coming back, loosening both his tongue and his posture. Relaxing his shoulders, and smiling as best he could with the mask over his mouth, he said unthinkingly "<A friend and I met in his shop due to both of us having a hunger for real French cuisine, and by shocking chance we managed to prevent a ghastly attack on one of the patrons from reaching lethal proportions>" he grinned cheerfully "<As a token of his thanks, I and my friend may partake of the meals he serves without charge if we wish, though I haven't taken that option as of yet>" He smiled politely at the woman behind him, saying "<I am sorry, but I can't understand Latin, never had the opportunity to learn it I'm afraid>" There was a lengthy pause as Marceau looked from the opened arms of the other man, to pretty much everywhere else. "<I..I dare not. As I mentioned before I have a contagious disease, and I would think it a terrible evil to do anything that might infect you with it. I should only be ill for a few days, after which I will be free to embrace you as much as you wish!>" he smiled hopefully at the Verdoux.

GM There was a long pause while Kalf absorbed this information, his face transitioning from cool annoyance and the casual undertones of insolence that marked his own corruption by office to one of honest surprise and doubt. After appearing to fully mull over and digest this new(to him)fact, he turned partially to Phalanx, saying with a trace of cold embarrassment "I ask your pardon if I have..offended you. I have simply never met any humans besides your immortal inventor or rogue Grue who showed any interest or skill with science. As far as I could tell, none of the rest could have so much as fixed one of their spaceplane's communication systems" To Ironclad he muttered dourly "Perhaps another thing will be remedied: your kind will speak up before being spoken to. It would be a welcome change if you made your people's skills more rather than less widely-known to us" bowing stiffly(not due to his loose and unrestricted uniform), and marched off back to the bridge to continue the short parade, calling over his shoulder "I'll see you tomorrow on the bridge, after the captain Mirta says whatever she has to say in the Mission Room" resuming his previous stance, he made his rapid way to the blue door, through which he exited after a loud(and rather ceremonial)conference with the two mechanized soldiers standing beside it. After the completion of the parade, the heroes were quickly escorted further aft of the ship, to the general area where the quarters were put, each of them was given a slim USB-like device that contained a holographic map of the ship, with their quarters marked unmistakably on it. Thus armed, they were given the run of the place until whenever they chose to retire for whatever rest or meditation they wished.

Subito wasn't in-costume either, a fact that occurred to him with a start when Kristin shed her winter wear. Realizing with some embarrassment that in order to be of any use at all in the upcoming testing he would have to be fighting on another's behalf, he quickly removed his own coat and myriad of scarves, quickly smoothing out the Claremont uniform beneath it that he now wore almost to the exclusion of the rest of the (quite varied!) wardrobe his family had insisted he take along with himself. He grinned at Serge "Don't worry Surge, now we've got two people who can bail us out if the going gets too tough for us" his smile vanished "Come on man, let's not keep the mistakes we made fighting our first ever supervillain too much in mind. If we start doing that it'll turn this into a never-ending slog of "am I good enough?". We're good enough to get better, is for sure" to Kristin he said brightly "Glad to hear you have some practice! I only had a night or two of practice with my powers before I came here"

After a moment's thought, Marceau bowed politely to the man before him, saying "<Neither, monsieur, I am but a simple citizen come to buy some offal for a friend of mine who requires it for his cooking>" looking down at the offered hand he added "<I apologize and don't wish to be rude, but I'm currently ill, and a physician informed me that I'm contagious. Otherwise I would shake your hand with all fervor>" looking now to the other man's face, he asked curiously "<Verdoux? Are you related to a restaurant-owner in Freedom City, he runs a place called Aliments Avenir>" he marveled at the coincidence of meeting someone who might be a close relation to someone across the world. Throughout his travels in Eurasia, he had on occasion met people distantly related to each other sometimes having the same name, and rarely being at all aware of each other. It had been quite odd to meet people of such vastly different nations, politics and experiences, and know that they had as a brother someone who would be almost totally alien to them. I wonder if that will get more or less prevalent he wondered idly. Not having any basis to pursue that line of thought, he brushed it away, focusing on the very real and present man in front of him.

"<That's very helpful to know>" said Marceau, much more cheerful now that he could help out "<I'll not return until these items are acquired Rene. Though..I might need some directions on how to find sheep offal in urban(even suburban)Paris, I don't think it's all that commonly used nowadays, and it might be tricky to find someone who sells it>". Upon receiving whatever advice Rene could give on the matter, he took a bite to eat and some water to drink, leaving the cape behind to cover the corpse due to it not having been cleaned, he set off with all speed into the wider city, careful to keep in his guise as a normal fellow, with his costume concealed under his habitual coveralls. Rene's advice on where to look(and who to ask), combined with his own skill in finding things out soon('soon' in this case being an hour or so) brought him to a small specialty meats shop. From the look of it, it had seen better days, but few more so than this one, with a line of eager customers that extended to and thoroughly blocked the front door, leaving Marceau in the uncomfortable position of near-loitering, which combined with the face mask he had gotten on the way to keep from spreading the sickness through his breath, made him look rather more suspicious than he would have wished. He hoped fervently the proprietor had loads of offal, and he wouldn't need to search "In the Back" for it...

Gather Information check to find a place that sells sheep offal(???): 21.

For the sake of expediency I'm going to rule that Omen moves the trivial distance difference between himself and the UB's before making the Slam. Anyway, tough luck, end of round four, beginning round fi...we just began it. Anyway! KoS's turn has him make another Snare attack :16, hits! Ub's save vs. Reflex DC14: 10, fails., he moves 20ft. further. Driogano UB stops and does the stupidest thing he could try to do: shoot at Omen. Attack roll: 21. If that hits, a DC18 TOU save is needed.

"Yeah, people are a lot more likely to want to play those" Subito admitted. His tastes for shooter games ran fairly retro, and he was well-aware that what was thrilling fun to him was frustrating beyond belief for others. Taking the bottle gratefully, he took a quick swig and handed it back "Thanks Victoria. Anyway, you're thinking of making this a regular club sort of thing? Maybe we could even bring in something like Wii Sports or other party games. They could be a good way of bringing in people who have only that kind of exposure to the hobby, and help to introduce them to the more complex kinds of games" he shrugged "Or you might be meaning something a lot more casual to start off, in which case I'd say something like JK2 or maybe even one of the Quakes, though I can seem them being too twitchy for most" He stopped to rest for a bit, observing the bar before him studiously.

GM Bowing slightly to the two, Admiral Kalf turned to Ironclad and Phalanx. "Ah, another scientist and another..'super' is what you call them, right? Glad to know your people have a system like that" Paying Phalanx not the slightest attention, he addressed Ironclad "I'm glad someone civilized was able to embark on this mission. The citizens Earth usually sends us are either well-meaning yet dull-witted sorts, or else sharp-minded monsters. Hopefully this signals a change of the guard!" he smiled genially, with comparatively little irritation or suspicion. Turning to the other Lor who had followed(blue-skinned, large eyes, gilled)he said "Please join the aide on the bridge, inform me if there is the lest discrepancy. Here on the frontier we cannot afford mistakes" with a single nod the officer left quietly through the small doors the humans had came through. Returning to Ironclad Kalf appeared to resume his former speech "Which reminds me, Ironclad: I recently received word that there's been some trouble with that brilliant Archeville fellow. Any truth to him being attacked by a monster in the middle of Freedom City, your world's leading port?"