Ari

Of course not. But so far as I'm concerned >1=good enough.

Since Freedom City and Bedlam City don't really benefit from having a metaplot/coordinated direction, but Emerald does by nature of its more open and vague arrangement, I say it should have one. Preliminary suggested outline: Early threads(1-2) where they're just starting out. Who? Makes no odds to me. They get more or less established to the public and are initially just random curiosities fighting random mundane crooks/disasters or helping people with random problems. A collective one where they face Emerald City's first public supervillain: Faster Pussycat, who debuts stealing some outlandishly sensitive information leading to the revelation that Emerald City South's District Attorney, Stanley Everett, is in the pocket of organized crime and has been lightening sentences for people in the gang that's been blackmailing him. This gives the local police a lengthy list of suspects and leads which springboards the new heroes into a very asymmetric fight against the Malakov Mafiya and the Chamber. At first Koschei the Deathless and his comrades in crime are content to just make the south shore heroes look bad, arrange for crimebusting debacles, meddling in their private lives and doing all they can to make getting involved personally painful and difficult. This escalates into attempts on their lives, those of their families and a gradual influx of super-crooks. The few times they do get anything done the local AEGIS branch is always there to mess things up. Meanwhile public interest runs out of control with rampant speculation and a flood of attention and intense scrutiny over anything the heroes do in the open. Complicating matters further is the Ascension Event, where humans and Morlocks twisted by a monster living underneath Emerald City burst out and attack the upper world. The discovery of how the Emerald City government has been shunting homeless people into the subterranean Undercity for decades, creating the circumstances leading to the Ascension, creates a national scandal. The heroes are simultaneously blamed by city leadership for this black mark on the Emerald's reputation and transformed into celebrities for resolving the crisis. The local AEGIS branch, weakened and bloated by years of top-level corruption, performs disgracefully badly, so badly that Nat. Dir. Powers and newly-promoted Director Calpurnia Maddox finally have the excuse they need to totally restructure the agency. Maddox formally apologizes for the harm AEGIS has done and henceforth agents turn from obscurantist bureaucratic MIBs to some of the best help a superhero could want. Meanwhile the enigmatic Nightwatch, a tight-knit unit of powerful vigilantes who fight the fights nobody else will in the dark places nobody else can go, arrive in the Emeralds. Their first act is to obliterate all trace of the local Blood Brothers vampire clan, a mere prelude to their private and hard-hitting war on crime. They mostly keep their operations out of the way of lighter, less experienced heroes. Mostly. That they're a bunch of bloodthirsty opportunists using the hand-tying heroes to keep attention and pressure off themselves while working under the self-constricted Chamber's nose is ideally something that takes a very long time to unravel. The major companies in Emerald City start to capitalize on the hero craze. Those that can't get the new heroes to sign on with them import some from across the Pacific Rim, bringing an eclectic bunch of hyper-competitive corporate-logoed professional heroes who aren't the least shy about trying to steal the "local's" thunder. Across the river several members of Project: Safeguard are called in to help deal with the influx of supercrime and to protect the dangerous secrets at Joint Base Clark-Gordon. And the nuclear weapons at Fort Brewer. Despite their differences, the largely unaffiliated supers, dubbed the 'Emerald City Knights' by the press, are able to combine their strengths and save the city from destruction at the hands of the meta-supremacists of MEDUSA. Things take a very dramatic turn when the Emeralds' next 'official' villain appears: the enigmatic Commander, an armored, secretive genius who controls people through nanotechnology and quickly shows a mastery of misdirection and infiltration. Initially just hired help for the Chamber to reassert control she soon starts on a project of her own to control every last one of the Knights and, like everything else, is soon off the rails. There's more, but I feel this is more than enough for a start. Thoughts, concerns?

"I believe in America, Obayun." Ishmael froze, his hand hovering over the panel-switch that lay hidden under the rustic wood walls. Very slowly, the teenager flattened himself against the wall and listened intently, eyes narrowing as he digested the implications of the unexpected voice. "America made me great, as far as this city is concerned. Let me bring anything from the homeland to the Emeralds. Made me so I can give my family anything. I have raised my children in the American fashion, and so when one of my daughters found a boyfriend in another Osakan boy, stayed out late and started spending every weekend after school with him, how could I protest? How could I not give her everything she wanted?" This late(10.42, according to a quick glance at his phone) the Harada building with its sloping crenelations would be nearly empty. Sure there would be a few on the lower, corporate floors, but in the penthouse nobody but Mr. Takazumi, his family or his bodyguards would have much reason to hang around. And the Young Dragon had been very clear that the reason he was so comfy sending the young translator to meet the Old Dragon was because papa wouldn't have any other business. "Last week...the Osakan boy had another friend along, they and my daughter went out to some of the inner bars, got her to drink genshu. They tried to...she resisted, they beat her like a dog and left her on the street. I went to the hospital where she was taken. The doctors told me she would need a new face just to live." Was I supposed to hear this? Shifting uncomfortably, Ishmael barely stopped himself from stepping on the creaky floorboards Papa Takazumi kept outside his office. Why are all these people so paranoid? "I went to the police, of course. My girl could not speak, but she could write, I knew the boy and his family and the accomplice was soon caught. But that Gardner, he pled their case. Made those monsters out to be just irrational 15-year old boys. Judge Wagner was no better. A year in juvenile detention. A year! This is American justice? This is all I get for doing everything right?" There was a silence so long that Ishmael started to worry somebody had fallen asleep. "My wife told me, 'if we want real justice we must go to Takazumi.' I will pay any price, Oyabun, if you will just do what I ask." There was another long, long silence. Ishmael could hear the water flowing in the ornamental garden down the hall. Then a dry, rumbling voice asked in a voice thick with a Tokyo accent "The police? Not me?" "I-I just didn't want any trouble, I didn't know-!" "Calm down. I understand, Sakamoto. I have two children of my own and I worry every day that this is the day I get that call, that those words leave a man's lips. But I cannot ignore such shallow loyalty. And what you want is revenge, not justice. That is more expensive." "I will pay anything." "I do not need or want your money. You run an import business? On the Riverfront?" "Yes." "I may need you someday Sakamoto. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never, but I will expect total loyalty and cooperation all the same. In return I will send my son and his Demons after those boys and whenever you or yours run into trouble you will come to me. We will eat together, get to know each other, our wives will stroll through Jadetown and joke about us. I have friends, they will give your daughter her face back." "Thank you Oyabun!" There was a rustle as the supplicant shuffled into a low bow "I'll do it and anything else you want! Thank you thank you thank you!" "Go without fear, my friend. Never even think about the police again, you have a far stronger and better ally in me." With another rattling litany of gratitude the sliding door whisked aside to let out a rotund businessman, his black hair slicked greasily back and his face beaming through tears of joy. In moments he was gone, his feet pounding carelessly into the distance. Ishmael let out a breath in relief. "Come in, Ishi. Ryu called ahead. A thousand apologies for the wait." Startled, Ishmael nonetheless ducked into the low room with its antique lamps, wall hangings and a window admitting a glorious sight of the Moon over the Malory Bay. Sitting at a bamboo table and typing away at a concealed computer, Tetsuo Takazumi observed the translator closely. Fit, stocky underneath a loose robe bearing the family's dual hawk-head crest and with a kind of brusque elegance to him, the man's greying hair lent an air of authority and dignity while the lines spiderwebbing around his cold eyes gave him a flavor of the veteran sailor who can see a storm in a sail's flickering. It was hard to square him and his contradictory surroundings with the fact that Tetsuo Takazumi was one of the most powerful mob bosses in the Emeralds. The gangster gestured across the table to a cushion "Please, sit, I had to watch you standing all that time on the monitors." Dark eyes bored into Ishmael's very soul "I have a job for you."

Loshk birta He's not sure, but Tristan has a strong feeling that this Rayzer guy is writing cheques he doesn't actually want to cash. Also that he seemed to recognize Delacroix.

Okay combat time Round 1: Scarpians(x10): Unharmed, Dazed-GM Arrowhawk: Unharmed, 4HP They're all Dazed, besides that one guy, who shoots with a -4 modifier: 8, miss! Arrowhawk is up.

Are we just using your lineup of US government-sanctioned folks for the other team? If not wouldn't be hard to just take the builds best suited to that(Agent Paragon etc) and give them a few quirks and a history.

So for the Rampaging Thing I'm thinking Geez3r's Kaiju Kong, the Typhoon Terror. Say Lockdown got the "privilege" of hosting the thing because keeping it near the ocean wouldn't make much sense. But its broken out(OR DID etc) and is carving a swathe of destruction across Mizzoura. Its Will might need bolstering just a bit, though.

A very happy birthday to you, Darksider42. Stay fresh.

GONNA HAVE A SCRAP?! The Scarpia men's Initiative: 17!

GM There was no ominous thud of footsteps, or a gruff voice demanding an explanation, or a really vicious left hook. There was no absence of howls of pain, gunfire and incredibly vicious cursing from behind her, where a distressingly large group of men with guns and night-vision goggles was arrayed on the street. "Stop it!" bawled the apparent leader, a man with a truly impressive mustache and an AK-47, tearing the goggles from his head and clutching at his face "Just shoot the mask and stop whining!" "We can't, sir!" "Why not?!" "We all looked up at the arrow, sir, can't see a thing now!" "[Not okay, man, that is not cool] with a tire iron!" screamed the leader, who squinted through eyelids that seemed to be holding back a waterfall and leveled his gun at some region generally adjacent to Arrowhawk, opening fire with lots of gusto and no form!

GM The doors evaporated as they slid to a halt, permitting the visitors and their guides into a quasi-transluscent labyrinth of white and clear walls outlining brutally square rooms. In every direction pristine corridors ran, these also full of busy people doing busy things in a great hurry. Almost all of them acknowledged to Oum as they passed, and the few who didn't quickly did so a few seconds later when they realized who she was. On the floor a discrete and stylish series of lines led to the various sub-sections of the submerged portion of the base. Oum conferred for a fraction of a second with Panita before marching rapidly along the red line, soon burying the quartet in the 'gestation processing' of P3 Station. "As you can see, we keep all possible risk of contamination to and from the outside ocean to an absolute minimum." the director explained breezily, the walls turning transparent as they passed to show thousands of fish in various stages of life contained in massive tanks attached to machinery attended by dozens of people "A meticulous chemical screening process ensures that all our fish have as low a risk of birth defects and illness as wild salmon or pollock. Lower, even, thanks to selective breeding from our initial pairs that resulted in a strengthened auto-immune system and better ability to process and remove metals, toxins, etcetera." They came to the end of the red line, which lay before a blank wall stretching for several hundred yards. Oum rapped it once, and suddenly the wall was a window into a teeming mass of adult Pacific salmon, foraging from the ocean floor and visibly glowing with health. Standing beside and smiling proudly at the result of the Station, Oum gestured expansively at the animals outside "As you know, the P3's forcefield actively prevents any chemical combination we don't want from getting inside. As for degeneration, we have a contract with Maruha Nichiro for regular replenishment via wild stock from their fisheries." Folding her hands and beaming at the visitors, Oum added cheerily "Our read-outs and sensor data are at your disposal, as are-" ~"PANSTAR! MY PERSECUTORS! DEFILERS OF THE DEPTHS! HEAR ME!"~ Panita yelped and her phone dropped from her hands to clatter on the floor, startled by the sudden burst of noise from the Station's intercom. Oum, meanwhile, had frozen stiff, staring out the window. And well she might, as a gigantic shark-like submarine gleaming with dark red lights sled into view. A hatch opened and a man-like figure darted out, swimming with incredible speed through the forcefield and up to the window, looking the four behind it right in the eye. He was in some kind of caped armor that resembled a manta ray, but unlike Devil Ray's black and red he was in white and olive green, and while armored he didn't have any obvious weapons. He was holding some kind of electronic mask over his mouth. ~"I AM RAYZER, CHAMPION OF CORAL, AVENGER OF ANGLER AND WARRIOR OF THE WAVES! THIS FACILITY IS A DEATH-BLOW TO LIFE, WHICH ONLY I AND MY RAIDERS CAN TURN ASIDE! LEAVE THIS STATION AND WE WILL NOT HARM YOU, BUT IF YOU STAY...YOUR FATE IS OUT OF MY HANDS! YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES, CHOOSE!"~ With that, Rayzer turned and sped back into the gargantuan submarine, passing again through the force-field without so much as a blip. "It's that eco-terrorist," Oum growled, her fists and teeth clenched as she glared after the man "I'm sure you know how many of our installations that maniac has destroyed over the years! And it looks like in ten minutes we'll be next!" Throughout the station, the distant sounds of panic could be heard beginning.

Exaccus, Blarghy, Knowledge(Current Events) rolls please, and also Sense Motive vs. DCs5-15-20

GM Facsimile, with Richard holding tight to his back, was soon hurtling to earth as gracefully as anyone made of Dacron possibly could. Volt, spat out from the NightEagle's systems after another failed attempt at deactivating the bomb, cowered at the door before jumping. Looking between the city sprawling below and its rescuer as precious seconds dribbled away, its jittering, crackling body as meek as could be imagined, the electrical entity at last jolted into the sky and thundered out of sight. Whatever it was that was going to destroy the aircraft was probably also intended to be destructive on a large scale, forcing a sharp descent and the question of what kind of mind put a bomb on a cargo transport craft. And what secrets it might have that made the bomb seem so necessary. But that didn't matter. Because even as Endeavor flew towards the vast North Bay, time ran out, "Eleven. Ten. Nine..." It was the work of a second to eject. Another to free herself from the cockpit chair. Another to activate the X1's jet propulsion system and rocket to safety. Which lay outside the distance she could go in six seconds. Flaming wreckage smashed into the Atlantic, following a shockwave that registered as a cracking *BOOM* for miles around and made the windows of Pyramid Plaza shudder. The blessed cold of the ocean took away the searing pain as Endeavor plunged underwater, half-conscious and the suit which had saved her life almost in pieces. It felt like she had been sinking forever. Before the black swallowed her up fragments of a voice drifted through -earch team stan- -located...retrie- A searing light burned her eyes, then nothing. END

GM Nothing was in the right size but a little trimming with metal fingers fixed the more egregious discrepancies, several pounds heavier than they had arrived the oddball quartet strapped into the stealth Osprey. Even Volt was coaxed into cuddling up into the electrical systems nearest its savior, though Endeavor could still feel its enormous puppy-dog eyes boring into her head. Thanks both to a refit some time in the past and the relatively small size of the occupants, nobody was cramped in the sleek and glossy interior of the aircraft. Though its controls, designed for use by adult men roughly six feet tall, were a little trickier. Blessedly, a manual had been carelessly left under one of the seats. From the slight yellowing of the paper and a dark smear it had probably been there since the craft was stolen. After a quick skim through its most relevant sections the NightEagle's engines murmured to life, its ultraviolets lit up, its electronic eyes opened and with a hissing shriek it darted into the sky. (Its actual moniker was a brilliant play on the common serial designations for Boeing projects, but none of the teenagers or the charged-up lightning thief would have gotten it) Dismal Bedlam quickly lay below them. They'd emerged from under one of Wolverton's many discarded factories along Industrial Avenue, a secluded spot that within seconds had shrunk to invisibility among the unlit streets. Turning on its wing, the NightEagle flew away towards the east and the faint purple-orange of the dawn. The actual flight took hours. The craft was quick, quiet and a dream to pilot but it was still bound by the laws of physics. They crossed over the great blue patchwork of the Great Lakes, over New York and Pennsylvania until at last the bluey-grey of the Atlantic stretched before them and the familiar skyline of Freedom City shone in golden light. A vertical landing wasn't advisable even for the smartest novices, so the NightEagle was soon sweeping low over Greenbank and the Fens on its approach to Jordan International Airport. Which was when the voice began speaking through the Osprey's intercom. "Captives and Subjects. You have stolen our property and destroyed our work. You will not escape the consequences.This craft will self-destruct in twenty-five seconds. Farewell." On the dashboard a red light began to blink rapidly...

That was after Gizmo intervened, Thevshi. Way I'd started it the convo was much less useful.

Slowest speedster go http://orokos.com/roll/439441 A 21, gives him plenty of time to think.

To follow on from my post earlier: Gizmo, I readily acknowledge that this still has the problems you specifically mentioned as things you wanted nothing to do with. A thread to blatantly transition, a big jumble of NPCs, but as quoted I still think something so simple and direct is the best way into this. As for the threat itself? Superior bursts from the Zero Zone, followed by an army of fellow exiles and bent on FINALLY conquering the Earth. Or maybe alone, having attained the power to warp reality itself around him to his whim. Overshadow pulls on his Shadow Destroyer-pattern pants and attacks Freedom City with the shadows of its own people, even its heroes. So-Lar the Living Sun rolls in and tries to eat the Earth again? Only this time it's got a posse of folks burning with the White Light of Truth. The sunken land of Lemuria, marinating in fell magic for eons, rises from the deep with armies of machines, abominations and a thirst for vengeance against all humanity in its ancient heart. Argo attempts to seize Washington D.C. to become president by right of conquest. What appears to be a Grond-like monster rampage is a distraction by a cadre of villains from the theft of all of Ft. Knox. And every other gold reserve on America. I mean the Earth. Negator turns into a living rift between the Universe and the Counterverse. Every moment he remains this way means an invasion of Counterversians attempting to repel what they interpret as an invasion by the 'sttamorp' of Prime. And a cascade of people into the Battle Roil between their worlds. In all seriousness I don't know what would be big and serious without being ridiculous and overblown. I was considering "Overshadow tries to pull a fast one with the next Operation: Inundation", but I don't know if anyone would care about that. In short it ought to be something that really merits the attention of a whole Freedom League and makes use of all their talents and isn't something that's likely to come up again. Any ideas?

A very happy birthday to you, Quinn! Better BEAR with the next unBEARable BEAR of a BEAR to BEAR!

GM Stepping inside, the map of Bedlam with its neatly-arranged circles and connecting lines caught Osla's eye. It was hard to tell in the extremely dim light(which a normal human wouldn't have been able to read anything in at all), but its composition had the air of a rough-sketch from an expert's hand. Stark Hill was surrounded by a thick red line marked 'S', detailed enough to extend around individual businesses and buildings. Others littered Bedlam City, though none so clear, and even a relative newcomer like Arrowhawk could tell at a glance what kind of borders these were. It made sense for a vigilante like the Hammer of Justice to be tracking the organized crime of the city, but that left a lot unanswered. On the computer screens there was at least a little more information: one of the monitors was still on, showing a lengthy to-do list: 08/15/2016 Meet with Boss S. about shipping lines. FC interests, conflicting. Comm-worthy? Bangers on Hill streets. Deal with. Weekly city-survey. Drop-in patrols Meet Scarpia in. men about shooter I.D., question witness. NOTE: CANCELLED, RETURN TOMORROW Think of better name than 'Hammer of Justice'. Too long. The Hammer? Captain Justice? Retro in. Explain about Jess to Elle. Deserves to know. Cut down on carbs. No Ave. Bread stop.

DC20 Reflex save to avoid a DC25 TOU save.

GM As the rigid steel gave way before Arrowhawk, her eyes took in a new and remarkably mundane sight: a bank of computers, a wall-safe,ma wall-spanning array of high-tech gear, a map of Bedlam with multi-colored pins landmarking arrows and lines, a spotless corner of workout gear that would have been the centerpiece of any normal gym, all contained in a room the size of Osla's subway car. Further examination was delayed when holes opened in the wall before her, and a hail of spikes hurtled out!

Happy birthday, Raveled! May Ghorammuz banish your foes!

I am definitely still interested, Morrison.

Kaige, this is quite excellent as always, but I've a few suggestions and comments. The Lockdown quasi-setting book has as its principle antagonists the Cartel, a thoroughly international organization with a strong interest in making about as much money as God's rich uncle. They could easily be a source of advanced technology and 'loaned' superhumans for the Commission, or even active participants and instigators of the reformation that are only discovered after extensive investigation by the PCs. Their suggested ties/origins in the Labyrinth could also be part of Taurus' metaplot of reshaping Bedlam into something as profitable and stable as Freedom , as they work like binding agents to meld the far-flung chaos of the lesser underworld into a weapon at his command. The U.S. government doesn't like any threats to its unquestioned authority, at all(just look at what they did to the Black Panthers, or MOVE). Even if it's in a ghastly, dying hellhole like Bedlam, they'd still care about Scarpia people moving personnel and equipment elsewhere, and in a superhero universe they've the likes of AEGIS(or just an FBI with much shinier toys) have a much easier time pinning things on "mundane" criminals. That the likes of Al Driogano has escaped is because his family's got decades of experience while the Manettis enjoy the least-competent AEGIS branch on the continent. That's part of why the Tracksuit Mafia in Hawkeye & Also Hawkeye was just some dudes and the Mob in New York has the Kingpin running the show, that kind of street-level threat works easiest either as a strictly parochial challenge or as a front for super-shenanigans. If they stay some guys who help each other out 'cause friends don't let friends get kicked in the head by Lou the Hitter, they need some way of avoiding detection in a world where world powers need to check to make sure their people aren't actually shapeshifting aliens or Super-Nazi robots.

OOC thread for this thread.