GranspearZX

Ah! I misinterpreted your last post then. Disregard that 2nd toughness save. Trigger's still Bruised though, so yeah, Smokey's up next! First, a Fortitude save to overcome the Dazzle: FORT Save vs. Dazzle Effect: (1d20+10=14) And he fails. Still blinded. That doesn't stop him from attempting to do something though, and he sends a fireball flying at Supercape: Concealment Roll 50% (Success on 51-100): (1d100=67) Ranged Attack Roll (Blast 12): (1d20+8=28) DC22 TOU check from Mr. Cape. IC post forthcoming!

"Is that what this Dr. Green's schtick is? Granting powers to people?" It wasn't the first time Crusader had heard of that sort of thing happening. There were rumors of 'power brokers' doing it all the time, occasionally even snatching homeless people right off the street for those sort of experiments. He could just imagine his brother doing something like this for a quick buck, regardless of the consequences. "'Metahuman' is just a term I picked up from my father, I guess. He was The Crusader before me. Died during the Terminus invasion." Crusader's expression didn't change. It was nearly twenty years ago, and he'd known his father's secret then. It was a difficult secret to keep, and he'd thought it was firmly behind him until he found the shield--or rather, until the shield found him. "I guess you could say my father left it to me. Among other things. I'd always thought about taking up the name to carry on my father's legacy. Turns out the shield chose me anyway." Clark straightened up a little bit and looked down at the woman, nodding. "It was weird... It felt like a record skipping. Never seen anything like it before. She's pretty lucky her injuries weren't worse."

12 hours earlier... "Wow. Smells like someone died in there." Arcturus watched the crime scene investigators as they combed the scene. He knew that no one was really dead inside that building, or at least no one that had died recently. Zombies were always tough to deal with, but he managed to mostly restrain himself. A couple of scorch marks from flaming fists weren't going to hamper the police from their investigation, after all. He sat on the hood of the police car until the officer in charge came to speak to him. That's when he showed him the gem. "You sure it's safe to be touchin' that, son?" It was a fair question. The deep purple gem was emitting a strange black smoke in his palm, thin and just barely visible. Arcturus could smell the magic pouring off of it; it smelled of ash and dry leaves somehow. "Probably not. It's called a nightstone... Some old lady shoved this in my hands like an hour ago, looking all panicked, and then she ran off. Then those cadavers came out of nowhere. It's fine though... I've got a good place to contain this thing." "Where's the old woman now?" "Not sure... I lost track of her during the fight. I hope she's okay though... Apparently somebody wants this rock really badly." "Any idea why?" "Nightstones are part of a lot of really ugly rituals. Supposedly, you can blot out the sun with one of these. Legends though. No reason to believe that's true." If nothing else, Arcturus had been made a believer.

November 30, 2012 4:32 a.m. The sound of feral howling was all but deafening. It cascaded throughout the woods, or at least it seemed that way to Arcturus ran, zig-zagging his way through the trees as quickly as his legs would take him. He couldn't risk stopping. He didn't bother looking back to see if they were keeping up; he could still smell them. The scent of decay was rather hard to miss, especially out here in the middle of the woods, and the sound of a pack of rabid and outright angry wolves was a difficult thing to miss when one spent as much time outdoors as Marcus did. How the hell do I keep getting into these things anyway?! It was mostly a rhetorical question. He knew exactly how it happened this time. Note to self. Stop helping the old ladies.

Oh lord. I'm JUST now noticing this. But if you're still interested, I'd be happy to oblige. :)

"Right. Well." With a grunt of discomfort from muscle soreness, he gets up to turn the monitor on. He sat back down in the same spot, musing to himself as he looked between the screens displaying Heraldo and Net Fly. "Sorry about earlier, by the way... I had to hold back a little bit and it got a little bit out of control. I don't usually go all-out in front of other people... Tends to weird people out later." He leaned forward a little bit, mostly to stretch while he focused on Heraldo's opponent. "Huh. Who the heck is that guy?"

"Well... I don't really remember a lot of it. But I got the sense that it was something that hadn't happened yet. I heard this voice--a young girl, I think--and she was urging me to prevent it from happening. All I really saw was a lot of shifting shadows in the rail yard, but I felt panic. The kind of panic you feel when you're hopelessly outnumbered." Crusader shuddered a little bit. It was hard to say if it was because of the sharp, cold breeze that blew through the area or the chilling thought he'd recalled, but he folded his arms across his chest nonetheless. "It made me feel like I had to be here. Like it was incredibly important that I prevent it from happening. Not that you can't handle yourself, mind you, but I think you would have been up against these two and all those goblins. All at the same time." He nodded. "I'm not a metahuman. But ever since I took up the mantle of the Crusader, I can get these glimpses of the Crusaders before me. That's how I picked up a lot of the skills I have, to be honest. This felt like it was a warning though. That's never happened to me before."

Marcus realized what he'd said after he'd said it, his palm meeting his forehead. "I didn't mean that literally... Heh. Sorry about that. But you're probably right about that, I do eat a lot. I think being a physical Adept changed my metabolism or something. Just figured I should warn you so you aren't surprised at how much I can pack away. As far as finding a place, I could always... ah... cheat a little bit." He looked around to see if anyone was around, tapping at his nose. "Not so good with directions, but when I'm in bear form, my sense of smell is MUCH better. Of course... I can smell magic too, but that's a different thing entirely."

"Not angry? ...heh." Marcus chuckled at that. "I used to be. I still can be. I mean... this magic of mine does feed on aggression, so for a while I thought that's what it meant, and that it was okay. Took me a while to figure out that also meant not being in control. Not a comfortable feeling at all. But hey, my dad overcame his with a little help, so I guess I'm not completely hopeless." Marcus extended his right hand, staring at the back of his palm. He couldn't quite tap into the runic magic he'd learned without serious effort. He'd only recently figured out that the Beast Rune was essentially dominating much of his natural magical ability--not maliciously, that was just its nature. Marcus hadn't quite given into it, however, and he'd already conceived a workable solution around it. "Food? Oh man, you read my mind... where are we anyway?" Marcus looked around for a landmark or something he recognized--even a street sign would do. There was bound to be somewhere they could stuff themselves nearby.

TOU Check: (1d20+6=24) TOU Check: (1d20+6=12) And he fails BOTH Toughness saves. Ow.

GM The explosion of light manages to consume them both, forcing both Smokey and Trigger to shield their eyes. By the time they do, it's already too late, both of them clearly disoriented by the blast. Smokey lets out a few choice curses before his entire body is consumed in a burst of flame, leaving behind a rather sizable cloud of cigar smoke. Trigger's still there, however, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "I-I wasn't ready!" He stumbles forward a few steps and clumsily swings the whip at Supercape, only for it to strike uselessly at his force field. "This isn't what I signed on for..."

Smokey's Reflex Save [vs. Visual/Radio Dazzle DC23]: (1d20+8=10) Trigger's Reflex Save [vs. Audio/Radio Dazzle DC23]: (1d20+16=17) So both fail and are dazzled. Owchies. Smokey immediately turns into a huge cloud of cigar smoke (Insubstantial 2 + Flight 3) and Trigger tries in vain to take a swing through the blindness at Supercape: Concealment Miss chance (1-50): (1d100=58) Neural Whip (Paralyze 7): (1d20+7=15) I don't even think that beats SC's defense. Erf. Which ends the round with: 14 :: Supercape [3HP] - Unharmed 12 :: Smokey - Blinded, Insubstantial 2 -- :: Trigger - Blinded, Unharmed Supercape is up next! IC post forthcoming.

There was something definitely off about what happened. Crusader was just about ready to take his chances making a run for it when the King of Suits went charging in after his strike, managing to land a solid blow and knock her to the ground. He grimaced inwardly; he still wished that hadn't happened, but she was armed. He checked again on the unconscious man as the King of Suits, in both a literal and figurative sense, tied up the remaining loose ends. "We? Wait a second..." Clark hesitated for a moment. Technically, he was rather involved now... and it wouldn't be long before this Dr. Green person caught wind of his saving the King of Suits. And if Green already had a grudge against him, Clark himself wouldn't be too far behind. "...mm. I guess we do." Clark Noble wasn't exactly a stranger to making enemies, after all, and if this Dr. Green wanted a piece of him, he could certainly give it his best shot. "It's always better to end these things before they get really ugly," he commented, eying the woman's arsenal with a disapproving frown. "Maybe you can fill me in on this Dr. Green guy while we wait for the authorities?"

Alrighty! And you're being sized-up by the skinny guy via Assessment: Assessment [sense Motive (+9) vs. Opponent's Bluff]: (1d20+9=18) And he emerges victorious... and now knows that Supercape is serious business. But Smokey's a stubborn idiot. Thus: INITIATIVES! Trigger's Initiative: (1d20+15=21) Smokey's Initiative: (1d20=12) 21 :: Trigger - Unharmed 14 :: Supercape [3HP] - Unharmed 12 :: Smokey - Unharmed Trigger is delaying his turn, leaving Supercape up next!

GM "Is this guy for real, Trigger?" The first man, notably younger and skinnier than the chain-smoking gun wielder, adjusted his glasses quietly as he regarded Supercape. "I... I think this guy's for real, Smokey." "...huh." 'Smokey' dropped the gun, exhaling a rather large cloud of smoke from his mouth. He pointed his index and middle fingers at Supercape, and a red sphere of flame began to form at his finger tips. "How about now, tough guy? Think that fancy little force field will keep me from roasting you alive?!" The skinny fellow's palm met his forehead and he sighed heavily. He looked almost pleadingly at Supercape. "Look, can't you just... leave, or something? This isn't really any of your business, you know." He took another look at his all-too-eager companion and shook his head, removing a small cylinder from his belt. His grip around it tightened, and its upper end extended into a long, sturdy-looking whip. Every few seconds it buzzed with electrical energy. "This is exactly the kind of thing Knives got in trouble for. I'd really rather not have to deal with this..."

Duly noted. Combat hasn't started... yet. I do, however, need a Sense Motive roll.

GM To say they were caught off guard was an understatement. There were only two of them, and Supercape's sudden and rather blunt entrance threw them off. The one on the right dropped the beer bottle he was holding, while the second, with a little more composure than his companion, drew a pistol. The second stood out clearly from the first in that the cigar smell was coming from him--he had two of them lit and wedged between his teeth, smoke billowing from his mouth like a chimney with every breath. "Curiosity killed the cape, fella."

GM The temperature was starting to rise noticeably as Supercape headed further inside, down another flight of steps. The lights here were all emergency lights; the building was still without power, and even these were flickering and largely unreliable. The hallway itself seemed old. Paint was peeling off of the brick walls where it wasn't littered with graffiti. About halfway down, the scent of cigar smoke became significantly stronger, and there were voices having a casual discussion much further in. "...glorified babysitter." "What're you complaining for? We get paid to watch a glowin' circle for a couple of hours. Big deal. Better than gettin' caught like those idjits workin' for the Hermit. That four-armed freak is nuts..." "I'd take that action over watching that creepy kid. Hell, I'd almost risk goin' back to old Armstrong and taking a couple of broken bones." "...shut up. Nobody's goin' back to that senile old geezer. He can have that rundown old shop; I'm out for some REAL power."

"Temperature's supposed to drop pretty hard tonight," Arcturus commented. "Shelter and a guaranteed meal is a small price to pay for a quick sobriety test, hm? I'm sure this nice officer will let you go about your business in the morning." He offered an encouraging smile. Arcturus would have smelled any alcohol on the guy, and he was sober enough. Getting him off the streets was more for his own safety than anything else, especially if what his forum buddies were saying about Port Regal was true. Then again, no one really had anything concrete--but one of these two just might. He decided to ask the homeless guy first, purely on a hunch. "Maybe I can even do something about your home. Where exactly were you living before?"

"Stealth, huh? I've actually got a pretty good spell for that." He paused in thought for a moment, then nodded. "I, at least, heal pretty fast." Other than being a little tired, Marcus didn't look physically harmed at all. When he first 'discovered' his magic, he could only recover in bear form, but that was slowly beginning to carry over into his human form as well. He couldn't help but wonder where that would end. Still... hearing Kristen's account of what she'd gone through wasn't the most uplifting thing he'd ever heard. He couldn't help but think that things would have turned out a lot differently if he'd been around to protect her. She's plenty capable; why does she need protecting? Marcus quickly shook the thought out of his head. "Yeah, I suppose so. ...do you want to see what the others are up to? I'll admit... I'm kinda curious now."

Marcus sat down in a semi-exhausted heap on the floor--plenty of chairs, but he chose to sit cross-legged on the floor. "Nah, it was mostly me talking some kid down from world destruction." He smiled faintly. "Didn't go quite as bad as I thought it would. I mean, I wanted to just go in and just punch stuff into submission, but I guess the point is that's not always the best option." She hadn't been watching. Marcus wasn't sure why that made him feel relieved; it also meant that she hadn't seen his bear form. It was especially weird because part of his training to control it had, at one time, been to walk around campus spending the whole day transformed. So much collateral damage that day, mostly from pulling doors off their hinges. "You sure you don't need to be looked at?"

Notice roll: (1d20+5=11) Neither does Marcus!

"I wish I knew someone to refer you to, but come to think of it... I don't really know any. Most of the people I've been around lately are more 'magic' and 'supernatural' than psychic. I figure there's some things that might, y'know, overlap, but... maybe not." He felt a little bad about not being as directly useful to Elias. He could also tell that Elias was still playing everything very close to the vest; he didn't really expect much else, and he doubted one walk through the city was going to open him up. It took him over a year before he'd even really been comfortable around other people. "Anything you feel like doing?"

"Hm." Arcturus watched the scene with a little more curiosity than concern. A lone officer against a homeless guy... armed with a can. It's all fun and games until someone needs a tetanus shot. But helping the officer seemed like the right thing to do. He continued his sprint forward, stopping just long enough to leap into the air to try and cut the homeless guy off. The Beast Rune, half hidden by his uniform, turned a soft but noticeable red at the exertion of power, and he turned in midair so that he was facing the homeless man when he landed. He put one hand up, eyes slightly narrowed beneath the furry cowl. "Hold it." It was a simple command, laced with implication in his tone on the possibilities of what could happen if he didn't. He didn't intend to do much of anything though--hopefully stalling would give the officer a chance to catch up and do his job. If anyone knew what was happening around Port Regal, it was the cop. It was the best lead he'd had so far.

Marcus wasn't the first to be finished, but he was relieved that he wasn't the last. The whole thing had given him a little bit of a headache, but he'd certainly learned not to be so quick to start a fight--it wasn't always necessary. As he headed through the door, he realized that Kristin might have very well been watching from the lobby. The thought of it was a little embarrassing. Thankfully he was pretty well rested by the time he made it to the lobby. His trial had been all tension and no physical action outside of sneaking past a sleeping dragon. He spotted Kristin and gave a slight nod in her direction. "You alright?"