Ari

That hits. DC22 Toughness: 14. One down. Next, 16, two down. Next, 10, three down. Next, 17, four down. Next, 14, five down. Next, 15, six down. Next, 11, seven down. Next, 15, eight down. Well that's group 2 down. Group 1 takes action. Half fires on Spider, half on Sha'ir. Two hits on Spider. Two DC20 TOU saves. No hits on Sha'ir. The Spellsmith's move. Meanwhile, having found where The Faster Pussycat is hiding, Salmon starts heading back. Fiating he is suddenly nailed by the spider mystic from earlier, who hits him with something that knocks him out and gives off the magical equivalent of a flare to Sha'ir's mage sight.

So first round order is: Emerald Spider: Unharmed, 1HP Kittens Group 2(x8): Unharmed-GM Kittens Group 1(x8): Unharmed-GM Sha'ir the Spellsmith: Unharmed, 4HP Salmon uses Knowledge(Streetwise) and Notice to try and track The Faster Pussycat as she races theough the streets. DC20 for the Knowledge and 10 for the Notice. Knowledge, 21, Notice, 20. What a way to get a natch score. Anyway, Emerald Spider is up.

Get hecked I was distracted by snow.

GM The screams and howls and curses were a good deal more incoherent this time, and much more pained. As the men stumbled away, one of them half-tripping over The Human Javelin and TargetMan who had collided and bashed each other into unconsciousness, they swung their carbines in wide, erratic arcs, firing at anything their burning, star-shooting eyes told them was there. In moments the shouts were drowned out by gunfire that whizzed into the sky or cracked into the ground, but the moment they weren't any real danger. The looming gunship's pilot however, had evidently had enough. With a dull roar its underslung Gatling gun came to life, hot metal spiralling out to where the stabbing spotlight pointed, right for Arrowhawk's unmistakable silhouette. However, hitting a target with a cumbersome piece of advanced military hardware is difficult enough, even after years of training. The road and sidewalk around her splintered, Osla felt the red-hot muntion crashing through the air, but as the gun slowed and the helicopter moved to an angle unobstructed by the pillowing dust it had kicked up, the light shone on Arrowhawk still totally unharmed.

Another barrage of blindfire, this time with the gunmen swinging around in ways actually very perilous for the people most likely cowering indoors. Reflex check of 10 to kick the stray asphalt chunks lying at Arrowhawk's feet into them, throwing them off. If attempted singly, no penalty but only three interventions can be made. If one cumulative check for the group, DC increases to 15 and a -2 penalty is imposed. Using Attack counts as an automatic success, but invokes your Complication for Ammo. Meanwhile, The Chopper lifts up and back and Aims. It loses its Dodge Bonus, and next round will be able to launch an attack with a +4 bonus to hit. Arrowhawk's move.

Emerald Spider, your initiative, please. Sha'ir, with all that's happening, you can easily duck around the newsvan or hide in the crowd to transform. The Kittens' initiative rolls, divided into two groups of 8: 12 & 16

Ishmael was the last of the three to see what happened. Emerald Spider The adored, gentle Ha'ni of South Emerald's Korean community was quite a bit less patient with her own granddaughter. At least when it came to her habit of jumping off buildings into camerashot. ~"Oneul ai chenchang! At least have the good grace to jump from a building you aren't working on! You keep endangering your secret identity I'll...I'll-!"~ Her voice quavered ~"...Just come back. It's all right if you have to run. You're all I have left, too. Good luck Pey-Pey."~ Below her, the crowd burst into silence and confused shouts, quickly making space for the mysterious hometown-hero with the spidery super-suit. The press stuck around, but stayed put and swiveled their cameras in her direction. Which left her with plenty of room and a half-circle of about fifteen very startled-looking men and women in black jackets. The mayor and D.A. looked shocked as well, but Mars beamed down from his fifty-foot holo-screen with perfect equanimity. "Ah, our stalwart shield of science! Can we help you, Spider?" From offstage a cheery voice shouted, augmented by the P.A. system "Nope! But you can help me! Get your hands up!" Sha'ir the Spellsmith Marc jumped to his feet, jaw set and eyes alight "Yeah! We're not going down that easy. See you 'kim!" The WestRock crew got quickly back to planning, Hakim's words bringing them back to the task at hand. Meanwhile, the Spellsmith had a pretty easy time following his mystic man of mystery. Whatever energy he channeled left an ugly stain on the souls of anyone who so much as touched his shadow, amking a trail of sickly corruption and venemous evaporation that was almost impossible for him to miss. The man came to a halt beside a newsvan, a little further back than the rest, and watched Emerald Spider's arrival with undisguised disdain. But the voice behind the morning's stars got his attention, as did the voice's owner. She appeared on a blur of motion beside the Mayor. A woman dressed in a skin-tight white bodysuit with cheetah-print armor covering her lower arms and legs, her eyes shining behind gaudy white-gold goggles and blonde hair spilling down her back. A broad and dazzling smile, oversized cat ears and a cat-head silhouette cutout on her chest completed the effect. Whatever it was. With a snap of her fingers the holo-screens refocused on her, and grabbing a mic from the stand she called out to the crowd, the press and the heroine "Hey Munchkies! I'm Faster Pussycat, your new favorite villainess! Nice to meet you, Spider, I'd hate to be the only animal-motif girl in town! Sorry I can't stay, but I'm on a schedule here!" Sudenly she flashed around the trio on stage, her legs and fists smashing and battering them into unconsciousness, grabbing the golden flash drive from the D.A., the nanobots from the Mayor and slamming Mars face-first into the ground. Catching the microphone before it hit the ground with a bloodied gauntlet, she added gleefully "You'll find out alllll about it on my site! Keep Spidey-chan busy, Kittens! Sayonara!" Leaping off into the air, Faster Pussycat landed on her feet and dashed off in a white-gold blur. The people in black jackets took out odd-looking guns and began circling Emerald Spider. All but the man Hakim had tailed, who began sneaking off after the fast-paced feline... The Salmon Ishmael stared as the scene unfolded, until he remembered the costume he'd stupidly crammed into the bottom of his backpack. Rolling into some bushes to change, the boy tried to process just what he'd seen. Supers sometimes came through the Jeweled Cities. Most of the time, it was to meet at Joy's for some super-secret talks that couldn't possibly happen just in a house somewhere, or to help with natural disasters, or see Mars for...some reason. That last was mostly just Captain Thunder, though. But nobody was stupid enough to be a supervillain in either Emerald City. 'And I'm gonna be one of the reasons why!' Securing his backpack in the bushes, the Salmon burst out and charged in a super-speed flash of orange and black, racing after the feline felon! Suddenly he remembered that Emerald Spider was facing a dozen people all on her own, with a huge crowd and some of Emerald City South's biggest names hanging in the balance. Grabbing a lamp post he spun around a few times to slow down, mind whirling like his vision as he tried to make a decision. 'If I catch Faster Pussycat, I'll be a hero!' He glanced back '...and if I don't and I don't help Spider I'll be an asshole...' Shaking his head furiously, the fish-faced speedster took up the chase 'No! She'll be fine! She's...she's gotta be! But I'm faster, I'll help track this maomew and we'll both cach her!' He tore through the streets, following the elusive trail of his first super-crook.

The Collision, that hits easily: Damage bonus of +6, so both are out. The five left to endure it make their collective saving throw still(!) wearing their night-vision goggles, which will double the length of time a Dazzle affects. Dex save vs DC16: And they do not make it. Dazzled again. Next round: The Scarpians fire blindly, hurting nobody by some miracle. The Chopper, meanwhile, opens fire with its Gatling gun. Every attack is a Power Attack, +3/-3. Misses, chews up the road around Osla. Osla is up.

The doors banged open and a blur of Halloween orange and black zipped through, a lanky figure sliding to a halt along the smooth floor, scrabbling for purchase with their stripéd fingers. Pausing for a moment, the man, breathing heavily, glanced around the room until one embroidered eye caught sight of the catering tables. A flash of movement and he was on them, piling a plate high with the complimentary food. Adroitly maneuvering to a free spot at one of the party tables, the local speedster known as the Salmon dropped loosely into folding chair, pulled up the lower half of his mask to reveal his mouth and set busily to work. Luckily for the nearby diners he didn't eat at super-speed. He just ate. A lot. Outside Ishmael looked perfectly self-assured and confident. You'd have to be to just waltz in. When you're a suspected murderer of somebody as beloved and feared as Uncle Zhi, godfather of the Northwest, it looks downright daring. Inside, meanwhile... A landing on one of Emerald Tower's staircase mazes... "I believe you." That Mars said it so calmly didn't make it any less surprising. Despite himself the boy stepped back "W-what? But...everyone else thinks-!" "An easy lie. You're a perfect scapegoat, kid, but nobody in charge here really thinks it was you. I'm sorry, but that mask of yours makes it a cinch to put whatever face people need onto you. I'd love to have you downstairs, but..." The long silence between them let the music and laughter downstairs up unimpeded. Something fast and synthy with lots of bass thumped through the walls. At last the Salmon ventured "And you mean it? You can give me a new face?" "New name, new suit, a steady job working for me and this city. No strings. I know how you feel and it would mean everything if you'd give me a chance. You don't need to show me your real face if you don't want to. But you can't be seen around here, people will talk and we can't let it out we have no idea who killed Zhi." "Oh." It took a lot to say one word. At least while looking at Mars. The floor was less intimidating and didn't have those gimlet green eyes. "They don't take me seriously across the river, you mind if I bounce, sir?" Mars smiled his cat's smile. "Please, kid, call me Max. And that sounds like a great idea, go have fun, meet your new friends, keep this talk a secret, huh? Be seeing you, call me when you know that mask won't get you anywhere." 'Well, here I am' The Salmon leaned back and glanced surreptitiously at the other, proper heroes who had already got to talking and smiling with each other. A very large part of Ishmael twisted in jealously that he couldn't just go up there. But they didn't have anything in common with him besides fighting crime and unusual properties. It wasn't like at school, where he could slide effortlessly into any group by virtue of having the dirt on everyone else. Even Emerald Spider seemed like some millionaire genius slumming it out of the goodness of her heart. Ishmael wondered suddenly if she'd remember all that had happened in the first ever superhero/villain clash the Dragon's Eyes had seen in decades. He turned quickly back to the food, trying to ifnore the cold sweat beading under his tribe-patterned suit.

GM Struggling helplessly in Arrowhawk's grip, the looked wide-eyed into the merciless face of his captor, his night-vision goggles covering one eye at a jaunty angle. It was a moment before he found his voice. "I-it was Scarpia! The big boss, he doesn't want any more heroes, he thought you were gonna team up with the Hammer or somthin' and then he'd-" suddenly remembering himself, the man clammed up but remained as stiff and trembling as before. Out of the corners of her eyes Arrowhawk saw the other gunmen get clumsily to their feet, scrabbling into position as they circled the Asgardian, levelling their carbines...and pausing, none of them wanting to be the first one to shoot. The droning of blades swelled. From above, a stabbing lance of light blazed down to illuminate the scene as a helicopter swept to just a thousand feet above the ground, moving ponderously as its pilot examined the street. "When'd we get a chopper?!" One Scarpia man hollered. "When we jacked that shipment!" "What shipment?" "Don't worry about it! The Air Force won't miss a gunship!"

Opposed Grapple check: 17. Vs. Intimidate, Intimidate: 17. He was not prepared and spills several of his guts. The six not being grappled gather in a loose circle around Osla and her captive. All of them take their round to Aim. Meanwhile a helicopter miniboss heaves to from over the horizon. Initiative roll: 16. It will act next turn, after whatever gunmen are unfortunate enough to remain conscious. For now it is content...to watch.

"Aw, don't worry about it! No harm done! 'Sides, I like bumping into new people!" Giggling good-naturedly, the well-dressed blonde woman who had been behind Paris took his hands in hers. Both were sheathed in fine white leather gloves made of some animal the college student had no name for and was probably skipping merrily down the road to extinction. Through them her hands were remarkably warm in the chilly weather. A bright yellow coat, red headscarf, sunglasses and impeccable makeup completed the picture of an eccentric professional out for a winter stroll. "Call me Brandy! I was just with some friends, but I guess we got separated. Actually..." Brandy suddenly looked very thoughtful as she sized the younger boy up "You from around here, Paris?" 'Hell yeah! An in! High-class lady like her won't know the real good spots! Okay, don't screw this up, just be casual...' Suppressing his urge to beam gleefully, Paris nodded "Yep! I know m'way 'round, why? You need a guide that doesn't make you scan a QR code every five seconds? I know some places they don't show on the city maps, too." Brandy's face, already bright, grew positively radiant. Drawing Paris into a tight hug, she yelled over a swell in the crowd(Mars must have said something amusingly self-deprecating. His writers earned their keep with those) "Would you?! Oh, thank you so much, Paris! I'll find you by the podium after the show, okay? "Uh...sure! Yeah, sounds great! S'see you there, Brandy!" Disentangling from the woman, Paris smiled shyly after her as the garish woman ducked back into the crowd, waving to him before she was lost. Flicking back some thick black locks that had fallen into his face, the student mentally fist-pumped, grinning foolishly at nothing. 'Y'da! Great success! If she spends half as much on random stuff as she does on clothes, I just might get a hook's bonus. Ooh, gotta think of a good route, one that hits alll the high points...' Finding a small, well-fashioned rise, Paris sprawled on the grass, head propped up on his arms, and watched the show... Emerald Spider If nothing else, the job usually gave her a nice view of the well-planned and beautiful city. She had seen some of the best parties on the West Coast from thirty to forty stories above them. From Peri's vantage point it wasn't hard to spot things that didn't fit the familiar, colorful pattern of a crowd in Emerald City. For a start, black jackets were a rarity. Even the police preferred navy blue and deep green. For a follow-up, the black-coats were steadily making their way towards the podium-cliff in a unified semi-circle. Quick-like, too. Then Peri's phone started ringing. Caller ID showed the worst possible name: Myung-sook Pyeng. Sha'ir the Spellsmith "Two hundred and fifty terabytes?!" Marc Presson rubbed his head, grimacing. "How the hell is anyone supposed to compete with a goddamn flash drive that holds that much? What's Mars doing?" "The other four daibatsu have never liked us little guys either." Pris Tooley, for her part, looked as disinterested as ever, no matter how much venom was in her voice or how much her eyes burned. "Makes sense. This is their first step in pushing everyone else out." Glancing at Hakim she asked "What's with the-?" Somebody on stage said something and the crowd replied with a sudden, deafening cacophany of laughter and cheers, briefly drowning out the small cluster of coworkers. It gave Hakim a great chance to see the man literally crawling with mystical energy. He was a Chinese-looking guy in a black jacket and jeans, hair cut so short he might as well have been bald, fit and muscular with hard green eyes. Up and down his arms ghostly green spiders skittered. He was gone almost as suddenly as he'd appeared, heading towards New City Hall.

Breen, if I may call you so, it would be an extremely good idea to thoroughly read the House Rules and Newbie Guide and talk over anything that isn't too clear to you in Chat. It is indeed common practice to make your Attack/Damage and Defence/Toughness ranks as high as the caps allow. It just makes things simpler if you can reliably hit what you want to hit, hurt what you want to hurt and can dodge or absorb attacks that would make sense for the character.

Ah! In that case I would advise putting a note at the Base Attack bit of the Combat section something like ,+9 Blast. That way it doesn't look odd when you roll a ranged attack and you use +9 instead of +7. Is the character PL10 or PL9 with 150PP? You can do the latter, of course, but that puts you down by a PL with only 15 extra PP. In any case why is the Defence only +6? That's pretty important.

Well Macabreengel, first point of order is that Equipment, like, say, a car or HQ, comes feom its own Feat. Even if it's a book-stats car and thus free, still need to put Equipment in a separate space apart from and just below the Feats. Affects Insubstantial is a Ranked effect, so for simple bookkeeping reasons add a '1' on there. Exorcism is best replaced with Nullify: Magic Powers or some kind of Stun effect. As-is, I feel it's not quite as useful as the book makes it sound. You only need 10 ranks to beat the base DC to heal wounds, so I would strongly suggest dropping to rank 10 on the Healing and use the points to add in Feats or Extras to maximize it. What are your character's trade-offs? They are undercapped both for someone agile and fast-hitting and someone deliberate and powerful.

Wine night, of course, you need a pompadour.

Nope, feel free Olopi.

OOC for this thread. Emerald City PCs only, but if you want yours in only say so. Everyone's day gets a little weirder with the city's first-ever local supervillain. And all the people who want her dead. (The title is ironic.)

City Hall, Emerald City, Oregon December 3rd, 10.17 AM, 2016 "...so we turn to the man with a plan: Maximilian Mars! Together with our beloved mayor and crusading D.A.! Shall we give them a warm welcome, fellow munchkins?" Fit and fashionable John Nakane needn't have bothered with the suggestion. A roar of applause and hollaring voices greeted a short, smiling and stocky red-haired man dressed in expensive blue simplicity, a care-worn and kindly-looking woman whose quick wave, predominantly green wardrobe and auburn hair marked her as Mayor Amanda Talbot and a thin and stern-looking brunet whose bespectacled officiousness pegged him as District Attorney Stanley Everett. The unlikely trio took to the podium mounted at the end of City Hall's broad front porch, a stubby granite cliff flanked by the slopes leading up to the aggressively modern metal and glass structure from which over 450,000 souls had their fates determined. With a flicker the holo-screens snapped to life, showing the three at gigantic size in crystal-clear resolution across the front of the building. Tilting down the microphones a little to better reach his bearded face, Max Mars grinned boyishly at the congregation. In almost every direction the manicured lawns and gardens held scattered collections, singles or parties of locals, while the geometrically exact white lanes were crowded to the bursting with them, the throng thickest in the broad square right before City Hall. The winter sun was unusually strong today, despite the clouded weather, which fit with today's agenda perfectly. "Hellooo my little people! It's great to see so many of you here today! The public notification did say this was just a sneak peak at the future, and you're the ones who make the future happen!" Waiting for the whoops of approval to die down with a fatherly "aw, shucks" expression, Mars quickly got down to business. "We all pay attention to the news, and we all know the problems facing our world. A lot of them seem too big for anyone, or even everyone to handle. But we didn't get where we are by giving up! You can't cross a thousand miles in one step...well, at least not until our teleporter watches are out in 2018, but until then we take this one step at a time, one day at a time, one problem at a time." Mars took a hard drive out of his pocket "For a start, our wasteful consumer culture. This is a two-terabyte drive, peanuts, right? But look at all the stuff that goes into it, just to make a disposable, near-obsolete pile of junk. Mr. Everett?" The District Attorney stepped forward, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out something that took a second for the sensors to focus properly on it: a tiny thumb drive, grey and russet with the MarsTech logo. "How much space is that again, Stan?" Mars asked with a grin at the audience. "Two hundred and fifty terabytes, Max. Consolidation of city records is already almost complete, and the security is, well..." Everett frowned at the piece of electronics in his hand "...well it's actually almost unbelievable. I have even been keeping personal files on this." "And this is just the first step, folks! Mayor Talbot, you've been looking for material to shore up Red River Dam, correct?" "We all know what happens if it collapses, Max, and frankly I would prefer our fair city not suffer Astoria's fate." The mayor's smile was a little more wry than usual "This the part where we dramatically reveal those slow-growth nanobots?" Mars clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with betrayal "Mandy! How could you? But yes!" At his nod Talbot held her hand up to the sensors, revealing a tiny pile of concrete visibly alive with activity "Self-repairing structures aren't just Freedom City's thing anymore, folks! And we don't need an Ancient Egyptian cosplayer to do it either! This is all us, Emerald City, we're making this happen together!" This time the cheers, whoops, screams and claps lasted for a good five minutes. Which was no problem. Selective sound-pitching tech meant that the questions from the press, civilians and short statements from the most powerful people in Emerald City carried through loud and clear. In the hustle and press of the crowd, a cheerful-looking young man with a ponytail and a very consistent red/green color scheme accidentally stumbled against a smaller woman. With a yelp of surprise he whirled around, fists half-raised until he saw who she was. "Sorry! Sorry, I wasn't paying attention! You okay? I'm Paris, Paris Redwater." He offered his hand with a chagrined twist on his mouth "I'm here for school, my Comms teacher wanted me to see professional public speakers in action. How about you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow "Here for the city spirit?"

GM As you might imagine, the display was a little above what any of the men there had expected. Unused to being on the receiving end of super-powered violence, a few of the upright ones threw their guns aside and dashed into the night(making their goggles actually useful again), followed on their heels by the furious curses of the ones who stayed behind for reasons that would have been a mystery for a much more contemplative mind. Behind Arrowhawk, two of the men she'd downed got unsteadily back to their feet, unloading their carbines at the armoréd heroine in a hail of bullets that mostly just riddled the already-vandalized truck. An anguished moan from somewhere nearby indicated that its owner was still there and feeling the destruction. Far away, there was the sound of helicopter blades... The seeming leader jerked his head up "Wait, how...?" was all he managed before collapsing back to the asphalt.

A loving family, work that fuels and follows a well-honed passion, a peaceful country and now five-and-thirty years of uninterrupted existence. To be so blessed, AvengerAssembled, borders on the suspicious. A very happy birthday to you. May you see many more.

Time passed. Intimidate saves vs DC11 Intimidate: Three run for it. Fiating(have an HP) that Osla inflicts Bruises and knocks half of the Scarpians prone. Round 2. Scarpians(x7): Unharmed(x2), Bruise(x5), Prone(x5)-GM Arrowhawk: Unharmed, 5HP The untouched two open fire again, for all the good that'll do: ...Two critical hits. Huh. But Minions so no damage bonus. Two DC20 Toughness checks, please. The Prone'd take their turn just getting up again.

No, I will do it. I have recovered sufficiently and will resume regular posting starting tomorrow. And to the earlier question, I can't accurately predict what we'll need, we'll just have to see.

That and very very close coordinating with the other players. The only way something like that can actually be any good is if everyone has something to do and some stake in it to keep it going.

Probably? I don't know. The closest we've done so far to something like this is the Incursion Event. And work is sapping all my energy this week so my brain can't brain good. Suppose one option, taking from your suggestion, Nick, is sort of interactive events. Where a Thing happens and the players do mini-threads about how it effects them(if applicable). But yeah I actually have no idea until the weekend, sorry.