Ari

GM Rene "No to all those things, old man" Marsha replied dully, looking vaguely around the apartment as if she'd dropped those qualities somewhere and just needed to find them. "I've never been what you'd call exceptional, just hard working and luckier than a lotta people who have that going for them." Strolling over to her easel, the wan young woman stroked the canvas idly. "So...if it's not somethin' I've got, and if it was I doubt it'd be my artistic talents or winning personality, I guess that just leaves how I affect other people. I help out sometimes as a counselor for Eff See You, sometimes I paint or draw out problems people are havin', it helps to have a visual expression if words don't cut it..." Suddenly, a hand darted out and grabbed a brush. "Say, now there's an idea. If this demon fella wants me not because I've got somethin' but can DO somethin', that makes things a whole lot easier." Dragging up a stool and plopping down, Marsha almost automatically arranged some nearby paint cans and started to mix some of the colors, eyes fixed on the blank sheet. "Even if I don't believe it, there's gotta be some kind of place even for people like me. I just have to make it real to me..." As she spoke, the first strokes began. They weren't half as fine as what Rene had seen on her other work, but they had an energy and life he hadn't seen before.

I'm sorry ChrisClark, been neglecting this for no reason. That Diplomacy roll works fine.

GM Without cessation, the havoc above continued to rage, with a crackling feel across the skin as the Yellow Salamander reestablished his wavering illusions, followed by a sharp *snap* that echoed through Cho's very brain, cutting across her muddled thoughts like a knife blade. The roaring, primal voice that had sounded amid the wall being demolished burst out again, groaning and hissing in savage pain. Suddenly, it stopped with a low, contemptuous growl, and an audible gasp from the gold-colored mentalist. "Well screw this, then!" Red 2's now-nervous voice rang out, a crackling rumble following as a fire shield sprang up around her "I'll bust open the vault; Yellow Five, keep that big guy busy, we can still what the Hell" a growing rumble had started to thrum through the floor, and as Red 2 spoke Cho had felt something pass under her, and then erupt out of the floor mere feet away, the smell of burning tile now nearly overpower! a strange, crystalline voice rang out in challenge "Hold it right there, evildoer! Taste molten JUSTICE!" followed by a grunt of effort, a cry of surprise from Red 2, and a thump as somebody fell. Then, dead silence. A faint sensation of searching, and a tingle of satisfaction when the search was successful. A gasp of shock, a few seconds of harsh grunts and snarls. Then, out of nowhere, a high, shrill scream of agony, and somebody else fell to the ground. One Hour Later "...And so you see, ladies and gentlemen of the press," explained the young man in the green all-covering costume studded with ammo pouches and with a high-tech rifle slung over his left shoulder, hands clasped behind his back and staring calmly back at the reporters through a featureless mask dominated by a gold Eye of Horus "the regrettable state of the building is entirely thanks to the clumsiness of the World Youth Rescue Movement's wards. We express our deepest sorrow at the destruction our careless zeal and desire to fight injustice has wrought, and on behalf of the Movement's leadership I, Saboteur, as team leader claim responsibility for all damage not caused by the Salamander Gang." Breaking the dubious silence as the various people with cameras, microphones and eve a few scattered notepads, one of the newsmen, head dotted with sweat, called out "'Scuse me, uh..." he faltered momentarily as Saboteur's hidden gaze slid to him, but rallied quickly with "...Mr. Saboteur, but why are you apologizing? Doc Metro should have that place fixed up in no time! And if not, the construction guys will be happy for the work. You and your friends just stopped some-!" Waving a hand sharply sideways, the teen sharpshooter cut in "Assisted in the capture, yes. Stopped? Hardly. Our comrades in arms" with the same hand he gestured to the nearby lawn, where Stronghold, Cho and Thoughtspeed had been brought after the fray was over "not only stopped the arsonists in the act, but kept them occupied while I and the rest made our plan. They are the heroes here, in my opinion, WYRM's wards were merely the backup. Now, ladies and gentlemen," turning to go, and glancing briefly over his shoulder, Saboteur's lightly Nigerian-accented voice concluded "as team leader, I have responsibilities I must see to. Please contact WYRM's headquarters at their publicly-listed phone number, or see their press representative in person if you have any further questions. Good day to you." Regretfully, the newshounds turned their noses to other scents, such as the distraught yet stoic bank manager close at hand. "It's such a shame we could not get here sooner" muttered the gloomy-faced and slightly pudgy young Asian woman under the spiked black carapace who had snatched up Thoughtspeed. Watching the burning wreck of the bank while sitting on the grass, with her arms around her knees and long black hair hanging over the sides of her face like curtains, she seemed the only one there really interested in the building. A muscular African teen girl with a sleeveless, hooded suit of red morphic molecules, broad features and heavy dreadlocks stood watching the reporters and Saboteur with a grim look. So far, the Claremont teens had only learned that they were called 'Racer Khonchu' and 'Bestia Diabo', and that neither were much for talking, Bestia because she just didn't care to talk and Racer because she was painfully shy. Meanwhile, the fiery crystal girl called 'Magmatic' was talking cheerfully to Cho, unfazed by the other two's restraint "By the Furnaces of Grhu'kkashk, that was awesome!" she beamed, her gemlike body shifting color constantly "I like burst outta the ground and was like "P-FOOM", and then she was all "Nuuuuuu!"and then I was like "KA-BAM!" Hey, you in a super-team, Choie? 'Cause you totally should it's the beeesssst" As she spoke the bulky crystal girl had danced and careened around Cho, hair like wisps of glass trailing after her, until the last where she eagerly grabbed the mutant bulwark's hands and squeezed them with glee. Her grip was strong enough that even the T-Baby felt it, and the grin on the Magmin mutant's face was downright dazzling. Unlike the rest, Magmatic didn't wear anything like a costume, or even clothes, though she didn't seem to have anything to hide anyway. "Please excuse Magma's idiocy" Brainclay said to Stronghold and Thoughtspeed, the lithe...person sitting cross-legged in mid air, straight white hair drifting lazily above their pale, androgynous face with its dull red eyes "I assure you, we are mostly quite well-socialized." Extending a to Will hand covered, like the rest of the body from neck to sole, in a crisp white morphic molecules sheathe, he added "On behalf of the WYRM, we thank you for your assistance." "Me especially. You're tougher than I thought." Saboteur said as he walked up, removing his mask to reveal an African boy with an eyepatch over his right socket, thin lips and a well-managed head of curly hair. Nodding shortly to the three Claremonters he added "Miles Musenda. Don't ask for the other's 'real' names. Some of them have bloodhounds on their trail, the rest just want a new life." Glancing over at Cho, Miles asked casually "I don't suppose I could invite you to the HQ? Just a quick visit, get a drink of something, get to know the competition?

Feel free to use him as an NPC if it's helpful, that's how I'm switching out all my surviving PCs anyhow.

Nathan pulled up short when the escaped alien appeared. Glancing back at the battle nearby he had to admit that the guy had a point'Assuming this is a male of the species, etc etc...'), especially when it came to the question of why the 'bots had been so trigger-happy. Sure they were being confronted, but did the Curator really prize victory in battle over just getting away with his stuff? Times like this made Nathan grimace behind his illusory mask and wish there were more books on alien psychology. At least ones that weren't just sci-fi, since they mostly seemed to assume that even vastly different cultures from other worlds could all be boiled into convenient humanist categories that- He visibly started and hastily made sure his subconscious didn't make a sheepish grin appear on the mask. 'Eyes on the prize, Mind-Set! What's our reason... There's only a handful of robots, we're on our home turf, and so far the Curator's not sending more than we can handle?' Marching over to the hiding extraterrestrial, Mind-Set clapped him on the back, bones tingling as he subtly emitting a pulse that would trigger areas of the brain that would hopefully encourage the guy into fighting alongside the humans. As he spoke, the world behind his eyes shifted color, and it took a conscious effort to keep the pulse straight as his brainwaves did their best to warp and hobble it "We're fighting the Curator because this world isn't his, buddy! You're a free man(well, person!) on this planet, and no collect-'em-all robot creeps will stop us helping you KEEP your freedom! We know what we're doing," Mind-Set added with an anxious look at the fray nearby "But you gotta fight too, or else you might lose what you're so close to keeping!"

Yellow Salamander will reinstate the Concealment illusion, and SURGE for another Standard so he can attempt to afflict illusory burns on Bestia(Mental Blast, basically). It's a DC20 Will save, which Bestia barely fails with a 19. A Bruise. Yellow Salamander moves to the vault door. Red 2 Salamander surrounds herself with a fiery Aura, Rank 7 Area, and Moves to the vault door as well. Magmatic bursts through the floor and attacks Red 2 with a hefty flung molten rock 25. That hits, Miss chance roll: 11. DC25 Toughness save for the Salamander: 16. Bruised and Dazed. Brainclay uses his(possibly? I don't actually know) ESP to locate the Yellow Salamander. MIND-DUEL commences. Mental Grapple rolls: Brainclay gets 23. Yellow Salamander 17. Brainy inflicts a DC25 Will save via his Mental Blast :15. Staggered and Dazed. And...really, I think it's best to cut the combat there. AN HOUR LATER, once everyone was more or less recovered(and once I get the GM post up to detail the above combat and scene skip).

GM As Thoughtspeed began slumping to the ground, a faint tremor pitter-pattered through the floor, picked up by Will's sensitivity to kinetic force. It was rapid, staccato, like fingers tapping hard wood. It was also the only advance warning before a spiky black blur tore through the bank lobby, zipping over the still-smouldering tiles up to the baffled teen, halting just long enough for a scratchy, distorted girl's voice to say "Hold still, I'm getting you out of here!" and for a long, slender arm dotted with spikes and spines to slide gently under his waist and fling Thoughtspeed over his rescuer's shoulder, which gave the young man the odd feeling of being painlessly impaled as the blades on it retracted under him. Then he was outside, being put down next to a pale, willowy figure. "There's illusions inthere, Brainclay" The report got a silent nod and a strong feeling of agreement, preparation. Meanwhile, inside, Cho had been buried and trapped under the weight of the falling ceiling. Plaster dust choked the close air, and the heavy slabs and twisted metal steamed generously, making things all the worse. The rubble had shielded the mutant strongwoman from Red 2's incendiary barrage, but it also hid the battlefield from her. So it was a thorough mystery why suddenly a noise of smashing glass, snapping steel and a horrible bestial roar filled the air, followed by a desperate scream of Red 1's voice desperately shouting "Auuuuugh! It's got me! Kill it, kill ighk-!" before being abruptly cut off. Similarly bizarre was the reason for why, just after a deep, guttural voice barked "I'm comin', Red One!" the resulting pounding footsteps were stopped after a sharp, distant gunshot, followed by a dull thud. The last two Salamanders were shouting over each other now, furiously hashing out a new plan to deal with 'the beast' that had apparently just burst in upon them.

One more Staggered result, and you go under, rather. And will do Knight, seems reasonable a response.

Using Emotion Control(Hope, DC20 Will to resist) to try and sway the guy to their side. And another Diplomacy roll to boot(Move Action, -5): 18.

Waiting just long enough for the drifting smoke and eerie silence to tell him that his attack had been at least moderately successful, the King of Suits limped to his feet and set off again with Carl over his shoulder. It took a lot longer to get away from the scene of battle than he.'d wanted, and the noise followed him long after it was out of sight. In his battered and bloodied costume and armor, it was hard to be inconspicuous. But if you knew where to go and how to move, you could go to almost anywhere in the Fens with only a slight chance of being spotted. Slapdash city planning meant that it was a total surprise for Dr. Handley to open his clinic's back window at a tapping noise, and see Marceau looming before him. A few hurried words and rumpled bills later, the King of Suits set off for the meeting place with a new spring in his step. The pain meds and a little penicillin and disinfectant dialed the agony in his chest down to a steady, comfortable throb. He could't swing from the rooftops, but he could run and leap well enough over the lower ones, and so it was with minutes to spare that he made his way to the meeting place. And all the while he did his best to avoid even the slightest risk of being seen. Entering through the dirty, smeared rear door that had been locked a second ago, Marceau walked into the low, dimly-lit room and nodded to the local community leaders, more open-minded thugs and street people who had shown up. Moving right to the center of the gathering, the yellow light making the reds and blacks of his costume stand out all the more, he explained his plan. "Friends," that was certainly an odd start if you weren't cornering a couple in an alleyway and about to offer some free cosmetic surgery in exchange for no money "a new crime boss is moving to take over this part of the city. Your part. He is called 'King Cole', a master manipulator and engineer of crime. This King aims to kill anyone like me, who could stand against him. And any of you he deems a threat will be next. His assassins have plagued me all today, openly attacked Deadshot's, and nearly killed several people. I mean to stop him." His blue eyes glittered. "I cannot do it alone. I've realized by now that he is counting on me being a lone wolf. He cannot fight a pack." Gesturing to those around him at the last word, the King of Suits smiled warmly and made his pitch: "Help me take down his soldiers and the places he controls, and tonight, the next night and as many after as I can manage for as long as I can, I will train those of you who show promise, arm you like myself, and show the Mobs of Freedom that it isn't just the super-strong mutants and masterminds of justice they need fear, but everyone in this city strong enough to fight back. Help me, and I will make you strong too." With that, he dropped his arms, returned them to under his cape to nurse his aching chest, and waited silent as a statue for their reply.

Earth is supposed to be near the borders of both the Unity and the Republic, so SS Primus could be part of the general accumulation of frontier settlements near borderlands. Like, a place set up for visiting patrol crews party, or neutral ground for local shipping merchants. That would help give it a diversity of clientele that'd massively boost the chances for [random rare alien] to reasonably show up for one reason or another, or for people with law/personal problems to find brief refuge(and a hero's ear).

Okay enough stalling. Basic idea is that Kingy rallies the local citizenry, and with their aid(and knowledge of the district) they completely overthrow King Cole's recent holdings in the Fens. Marcy dies in the struggle, but is alive for the last handshakes and the swing off into the sunset.

GM The reason for the shaking soon became obvious, as Nihlor drifted into view, the dread black planet on whose surface could clearly be seen the forms and faces of massive creatures in frozen in poses of agony, alien but oddly familiar to the human's eyes. Around them glittered the evil lights of the great citadels and towers that housed Omega and his Annihilists, while a murky sprawl about their feet hinted at the terrible Black Ghettos where the fearful proles eked out their miserable existence. Like an ugly jewel, Nihlor shone in the Warpwold's red waste, a hideous insult and diabolical joke at the expense of everything good, living and free. Even from another planet, the smoke of the first and greatest Doomforge could clearly be seen. The more pressing problem, of course, is that where Nihlor goes, the Doom-Coil follows, and that very red tongue, that very flashing serpent of destruction, that river of the end of all things, had lashed out to consume Tona's world. Mountain ranges far off vanished like ice in a lava flow, the surviving matter caught up in a spiral that began racing back to the source of destruction. Even as they watched, the world around them began to visibly shrink, the earthquake-like shudder growing in intensity! With soft clarity, a nearby voice said "At last. Took those prodigals long enough, I almost lost to the Steam General. Of all people in the Omniverse, I almost lost to him." With a deep sigh and a thrumming whisper, the coated and uniformed young man floated down next to the heroines, watching the oncoming rush of destruction with a careless and slightly impatient look in his dark eyes. Passing a a callused hand through his coarse, short black hair, he glanced at Tona as she tried to wake up Sam, snorted contemptuously and began tapping away at something like a bronze calculator he pulled from one coat pocket. "Silex!" Leda pushed her way through the suddenly silent throng, nearly all eyes on the incoming engine of death, and stood before the young man. Looking closely at him, the rawboned woman asked cautiously <"Are you...have you come back to us?"> <"I have"> was the crisp answer as Silex put the device back into his pocket, raising a hand to forestall the murmur of hope as he concluded drily <"I have come back...to see this world perish. With its death my place is secured, my only rival will either die or wish he had, and my master Steelgrave will have my genius at his disposal"> At the horrified looks of the tribesmen he shrugged philosophically <"This planet is nothing but a corpse, my brethren, a festering body withering to nothing with only maggots like you and me eating at its bones. You have no hope of being anything but proles or worse, and I only spared those of you en route to the 'forge so you could have a reunion before you all died. It's better than most get when they enter the Terminus. I have seen the less fortunate, before the end..."> As he spoke distant sounds of energy discharges and the whistle of metal in flight filled the air, and like a horde of locusts Omegadrones roared into view a mile or more away, shooting at something in the trees that responded with darts. A few of the drones fell. Step by step, they too flew closer. In a few minutes or less they would be clearly distinguishable. A round floating platform studded with control panels and monitors drifted down from the air as well, which Silex athletically jumped onto and began calmly examining data readouts. Over the distant havoc he called "You! Outworlders! Better leave now if you ever want to! This world is lost!" As he spoke, the craft began lifting off again, the air vibrating and wavering beneath it. The tribespeople were still quiet, some looking anxiously at Tona and her still-conscious friends. A few had made the mistake of looking at Sam, and were still smarting from the sensation of their eyes twisting to comprehend devilish geometry.

Bowing to the both of them, his fan-like hair ducking with him, and turning a hopeful(or what a triton thinks of as hopeful) massive eye to Lady Temperance, Wave-Eye examined the small flotilla of lifeboats below. Thanks to modern seafaring law, there were enough for all the passengers, and to spare. If they had to take to the water in the small craft, they'd not crowd each other into the depths. On the other hand, letting the humans stay into such cramped and insecure things when a giant bulwark of metal lay right next to them seemed simply cruel. Not being strong enough to carry the boat on his own, Wave-Eye kept a steady rise of water near the rear of the ship, hoisting the engine room well above risk of swamping and providing a slower yet no less constant thrust back to shore than the crafts' own motors could have done. Once they had returned, Wave-Eye stayed only long enough to agree to a meeting place, vanishing once again into the black depths of the Atlantic Ocean after a sacrifice to his divine parents, searching for some word on this mysterious Drowned Man...

If you all let this fall through, there will be no forgiveness.

GM The village appeared back in normal space like a drop falling into reality's pond, the local space shivering for a fractional moment as the spacial paradox resolved itself. True to Kit's order, Tona's people had remained utterly stoic even as they left, however briefly, their native plane. Even the children and babies barely made a sound, and not even the youngest of animals struggled when encountering the alien void. Whatever lessons they had endured in their long torment, it seemed to have given them spines of metal. As the red light of the Terminus reasserted itself, a shadow remained over the villagers. Leda saw it first and began to ask, with a look of deep respect to Sam's prone figure "Pardone, shadow-walkers, but is that-?" The rest was unsaid, for suddenly one of the tribeswomen, who had looked up instead of around, pointed at the sky and bellowed "Sky-maw!" The effect those words had on the tribe was electric. In moments the orderly retreat started to turn into a riot. Now that attention had been drawn to it, the blocky ship Tona and Cerys had seen earlier was clearly visible above them in all its placid, angular glory. Formerly quiet people shouted over each other, animals began to run for the trees as if stung, and the whole mass of humanity began to move for the trees to escape the red-throbbing horror in the air as it began to soar down towards its prey. So when it faltered, shuddered, and then crashed heavily into the forest in a spray of dirt and wood splinters well behind the group and then smoked, shuddered and lay still, the lights blinking out, it made for a pretty embarrassing scene. And then the hatches opened. From seemingly every side, people dressed like Tona's village scrambled out, yelling with joy and racing to greet others of their kind! A first burst of suspicion had Tona's group standing their grounds, but sudden, amazed cries from either side of "Fille!" "Pappa!" and the names of long-lost friends filled the air, and the two masses of humanity met and embraced! Another man, dressed in a uniform and coat, something that looked vaguely Napoleanic in red and blue and black, got out from the top, looking much more surly. He wasn't the Steam General, though, his clean-shaven face and obvious youth made it clear. A lifeless Omegadrone dangled from his left hand like a landed fish, and with a look of disgust the young man tossed it away into the brush. One of the unkempt tribesmen jumped out of the same hatchway and tried to hug the uniformed man, only to be flung away in the same direction as the drone, with a snarl of almost comical anger. Glaring at the happy gathering he folded his arms and looked up at the dark sky, as if waiting for something, just as the ground began shuddering beneath the four heroines...

GM Too harried and and disoriented to even try for a counterattack, Devine slumped heavily to the floor, landing on the Cyberdragon's head with a *crunch* as it and the Dragon's body armor absorbed the powerful man's fall. His mask's strap broke during one assault, revealing a formidable beard and mustache over a hearty, tanned face contorted with pain. With a jittering wail and a spasmodic plume of fire, the electrified gangster Polarity had intercepted was flung against a wall, where he smoked and trembled for the remainder of the fight. Solvrytter's spear-haft caught the would-be voice of reason square in the mask as he whirled back from the thrust, bowling her head-over-heels to the floor where she lay in a dazed heap, head supported on the crumpled remains of the mask. In a few minutes, the eight Dragons were lying in various states of consciousness on the floor, the more more awake ones moaning and groaning their protests at the three young heroes. A map had fallen out of Devine's pocket as he weathered Nevermore's furious flurry of punches and kicks, showing the way right to the Dragon's main depot on the coast. With that and the contacts from all the Dragons' phones, they probably had enough to give the police an arrest and bring down the gang right then and there! Not bad for one night's work.

Exceedingly minor nitpick, lazerdwarf, but you missed the 'g' in 'Energy Whip'

Using the Gather Information roll from earlier(result of 22) to find good back-alley doctor for Carl. From then, he moves to the meeting(Stealth roll: 21. to avoid havoc while on the way. Using a HP to recover from the Staggered condition ahead of schedule. With the +5 Beginner's Luck bonus and a +4 bonus from Constitution, that makes for +9, so I can just Take 1 and be healed. Cape, is that acceptable?

As his stomach churned under the constant, endless rattle of bullets, Marceau made a very big mistake: He tried to stand up. A moment later, and the King of Suits was smashed against the wall and tumbled to the ground, gasping for breath as the last shot's impact sent shockwaves through his neck and collarbone, a dull silvery thing embedded just below the edge of his chest plate. From his prone position, the first thing he saw as his eyes refocused was Carl, lying nearby. His leg was still a ruin, and the man was already sweating from the inflammation. The second were the divots carved into the wall above Marceau's head by the gunman. By a creature who doubt considered themselves an assassin. A hunter of his own people. Somebody who saw those around them as either marks or clients. Whose highest value for another was how much they could pay in exchange for a brutal, sudden death. With his quarry lying on the ground, a single man, the assassin had paused to call for help. Marceau suddenly had an idea of what it felt like for bears in ancient Europe, when bolts tore their legs to ribbons and their lungs filled with blood as hounds tore them. And he'd shot at Carl, who could do no more harm to him than a fly could hurt a wasp. And at range, beyond any risk... Suddenly, in a fluid arc, the King of Suit whipped his torso upright, and like a catapult launched a card from his sleeve at the ground right in front of the trash can marking his enemy's location. The King of Clubs that landed near the assassin's foot, bearing a smiling, big-boned African monarch wielding a mighty sceptre, was rare in that no razor card struck it in mid-flight to weaken the impact. Instead, it sliced through the thing at point-blank range. His aching head and addled mind left him unable to fully appreciate it, but the irony of his retaliatory eruption of fire and thunder did cross his reason.

Strictly speaking it ought to be a Daze as well. Lobbing an Explosive card at the bad fellow: 18. If that hits, a DC24 Toughness save for him. Lethal damage.

Well &€)$. Thanks Blue, editing that.

Wayward, Grimalkin, Titan, Riff and Memorial have been added.

I like that Morph, Shaen, classic Plastic Man right there. Only thing I'm curious about are the Skills. They're super-focused and useful, which is good and all, but to me they look almost better suited to a construct than a person. What's the reason for that?

Excellent! Cho is only Pinned, not burned on smashed. Next round order. Red Salamander #1: Bruise(x1)-GM Thoughtspeed: Staggered, 1HP Yellow Salamander: Unharmed-GM Black Salamander: Bruise(x1), Staggered-GM BabyBrawler: Unharmed, 2HP Stronghold: Unconscious, 1HP Red Salamander #2: Unharmed-GM Cho Lee: Bruise(x2), Pinned(Rubble), 1HP And then the influx of new talent. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614880/ 19. Saboteur, tie-breaker with Red 1: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614910/ 13/18, Red 1 stays in the lead. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614889/ Besta Diabo 27. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614894/ Racer Khonchu 31 http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614896/ Magmatic 11. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4614897/ Brainclay 11. Magmatic's bonus is higher, so she goes earlier. So Racer Khonchu: Unharmed-GM Besta Diabo: Unharmed-GM Red Salamander #1: Bruise(x1)-GM Saboteur: Unharmed-GM Thoughtspeed: Staggered, 1HP Yellow Salamander: Unharmed-GM Black Salamander: Bruise(x1), Staggered-GM BabyBrawler: Unharmed, 2HP Stronghold: Unconscious, 1HP Red Salamander #2: Unharmed-GM Magmatic: Unharmed-GM Brainclay: Unharmed-GM Cho Lee: Bruise(x2), Pinned(Rubble), 1HP Racer Khonchu swoops in first, grabbing Stronghold and zipping outside to deposit her on the lawn. Besta Diabo smashes in(in her Giant White Ape form, basically Hulk mode) through a formerly-pristine wall and tries to grab Red 1: 19, rerolling that: 14, with the +10 is 24. Hits. Grapple roll: 35. Red 1 tries for a DC35 Grapple save(he'll need a natural 20 to succeed): 27. And he got the same on the 'on your turn, try to escape' roll. Saboteur makes his shot, shooting at Black Salamander with a 20. That hits for a DC22 Toughness save: 17. Bruised and Dazed again. Thoughtspeed is up.