Thunder King

26 for the first grapple 21 for the second

John roared in frustration and took off like a shot, charging almost blind at Blowfish. He knew punching the man in the head might kill him, so he aimed for his chest. He closed distance frighteningly fast, slamming his fist into Blowfish's chest. The boss flew back, skidding across the hospital floor before slamming into the wall, slumped over. John hoped that, maybe, his superhuman feats of strength and speed might dissuade them from continuing, but he was prepared to make them all guests of the hospital if that's what it took.

Hannah looked down. "My powers kinda, screwed up everything. Everything I wanted to do, everything I was planning to do. It's like, my life is so completely different now. I've been here almost a year and even now I still can't believe it. I don't know what's next." She shrugged. Although, she did like art, and music, and a bunch of other stuff. Those didn't lead to very good careers, though. She wished she was more talented in STEM stuff, that's where the success was.

Hannah knew Riley wasn't talking to her, knew he was just throwing her name out there, but she couldn't help but raise her book to her face to hide what was probably a blush as bright as her constructs. She took a deep breath. She didn't hate those...bro guys, they just weren't her type. Not that she knew what her type really was, of course. Just whatever they weren't, because they were, well, idiots. She wished she could become invisible or something, sometimes.

"It's okay, I have no idea what bubble tea is, and um, I'm not a big fan of avocados either." Hannah had let herself get dragged over. She was learning that Corinne's dragging was overall good for her. She knew Robin, not especially well, but she knew her. She recognized Phaedra, who was probably one of the prettiest girls she'd ever seen in her life. There really were a shocking number of attractive people at Claremont, she mused. Were there a lot of models with superpowers, or what?

Crimson Tiger didn't give him a chance to be smug, because she punched him straight in the face. "I want to know who makes their body armor." She said aloud. Getting some better protection was never a bad idea. Had to make sure it wouldn't slow her down, though. Mali needed to stay mobile, and felt vulnerable whenever she couldn't bounce in and out of enemy reach.

""Oh, I'm sure those clubs exist, or some clubs. I mostly just keep to myself." She shrugged. "I read, I study, that's most of it. Honestly you've been really cool so far. You could be a serial killer or something, but I don't think so." She blushed slightly and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. She didn't admit it, to herself or Corinne, but she was grateful that Corinne was an active person and wanted Hannah to be more so. She needed to get out more, she just seldom had the courage.

John is beyond tired of Blowfish, so he's going to charge him. +2 to attack for Charge, -2 defense. Power attack shifting by 2, taking the +2 from Charge and applying it to damage; 20 That's a DC25 toughness save, and John gets -2 defense next round.

Player Name: Thunder King Character Name: Solar Sentinel Power Level: 10 (160/160) Trade-Offs: -4 Defense/+4 Toughness Unspent Power Points: 0 In Brief: Cosmically empowered immortal veteran of an interstellar war Alternate Identity: Henry William Mason Identity: Secret Birthplace: Adolphus, Kentucky Occupation: Firefighter Affiliations: Freedom City Fire Department, the Zarnashi Military Family: None Description: Age: 121 (DoB: January 18th, 1896) Apparent Age: 35 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 6'3" Weight: 230 lbs Eyes: Gray Hair: Brown Henry is tall and broad shouldered, with a ruggedly handsome face, and stern features. He looks reasonably young, but anyone who sees into his eyes will see the age in them. He keeps his hair short and walks upright. He favors work pants and button up shirts, claiming to feel naked in t-shirts. He also favors leather shoes and boots, having a dislike for sneakers. Henry's costume is blue and gold, designed to look sleek and fast even when it's not in motion. Power Descriptions: Henry's cosmic energy manifests as a brilliant blue, though for certain things he can suppress the glow, such as using his normal flight or super-strength. The exact manifestations of this energy follow; Blast: Henry's blasts are manifested as blue bolts of energy, slightly resembling flame. Flight: When Henry flies, it manifests as a slight blue aura. When he's pulling power from his cosmic array, it produces a blue contrail that follows after him. Super-Strength: When accessing his array to enhance his strength, Henry's glow intensifies relative to the effort he needs to put forth. Healing: The recipient of his healing also glows slightly when affected by it. Extra Effort: The higher his energy output is, the more flame-like the manifestations become. History: Henry was born in Kentucky to a poor farm family. His father and mother both died early in his life, leaving him orphaned at 12 years old. At 16, he lied about his age and joined the US Army, where he served until the end of WWI, serving with distinction as a Non-Commisioned Officer. He was discharged honorably in 1920, and settled down in Freedom City. It was in 1922, however, that everything changed. One night, a friend of his invited him to stay out with him in the country, at his home in rural Pennsylvania. He never got there. Instead, an alien space craft captured him for study, crewed by members of the Zarnashi race. They were planning on sending him back after their tests, but they spotted an enemy vessel on their sensors. In their haste to escape the enemy craft, they accidentally brought their passenger, Henry, with them. Over the next few months, it was increasingly evident that war was inevitable between the Zarnashi and the Makh'rell peoples. Unable to go home, Henry became an ally of the Zarnashi race. A few months later, he found himself on a brand new space craft with an experimental FTL drive. The drive's core ended up with a massive breach. Selflessly, Henry helped everyone escape from the room, but he himself was trapped. The damaged drive bathed him in cosmic energy. The Zarnashi were surprised to find that he was not only alive, but far more powerful. He willingly joined the war against the Makh'rell race, becoming a respected and feared member of their military. However, the war dragged on for years. Henry fought for 88 years in a war that wasn't his own. Once the Zarnashi had secured peace, however, there was no reason to keep such an oddity among their ranks. And so, with his permission, they dropped him back on Earth with a few key supplies. Little did he know how much the world had changed. He managed to get enough help to set himself up again, with a new job; firefighter with the Freedom City Fire Department. However, after years of fighting, he found himself having a hard time adjusting to society. So, he decided to make himself a costume and start a new war; a war on crime. He'd never take another life again, but fighting is all he knows, and all he has. Personality & Motivation: Immortality has taught Henry a great deal about life, death, and survival. He has the long view on life, but also knows to cherish life's pleasures. Honor is very important to him. He considers his word paramount, and is reluctant to give it unless he knows he can live up to it. He fights crime because fighting is all he knows. He feels that he's seen too much blood, and will neither take a life, nor neglect to save civilians. Powers & Tactics: He uses the same tactics now that he did in the war; hit them fast, hit them hard. He makes ready use of move-by-action, charging in to blast, hitting them fast and moving out of range. When pressed, he has no problem closing distance and hammering at the opposition until it breaks. His powers leave little room for finesse or subtlety, but he's just fine with that. Complications: Secret: Identity. Nobody knows that Henry is a superhero, he likes it that way A Stranger In His Own Land: He's lived in space for most of his life. Earth, especially modern Earth, is so different that he won't get pop culture references and doesn't understand modern social norms very well. Child of Battle: He's been fighting for so long that sometimes he chooses to fight when he might have gotten away with a nonviolent solution. Blood on his hands: Henry is responsible for the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of sentient beings, this does not sit well on his concience. The Bloody Stranger: During the war, Henry had a bit of a reputation for being a ferocious and nigh-unkillable warrior. Sometimes this reputation gives him problems when dealing with extra-terrestrials. Abilities: 10+0+4+6+4+4= 28PP Strength: 20/30 Dexterity: 10 Constitution: 14 Intelligence: 16 Wisdom: 14 Charisma: 14 Combat: 8+6 = 14PP Initiative: +4 Attack: +10 melee +4 ranged +10 Cosmic Blast Grapple: +15N/+18B/+28S Defense: +6 (+3 base, +3 dodge bonus) +2 flat-footed Knockback: -7 N: Nullified, B: Base S: With Strength Array Saving Throws: 8+6+6 = 20PP Toughness: +14 (+2 Con, +12 Protection) Fortitude: +10 Reflex: +6 Will: +8 Skills: 56R = 14PP Diplomacy 10 (+12) Intimidate 10 (+12) Knowledge: Galactic Lore 7 (+10) Knowledge: Tactics 9 (+12) Language 2 (English[native], Zarnashi, Galstandard) Notice 10 (+12) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Feats: 17PP Attack Focus(Melee) 6 Attack Specialization 3 Benefit (Tactics to Master Plan) Dodge Focus 3 Improved Initiative Master Plan Move-By-Action Power Attack Powers: 23+10+10+12+6+6 = 67PP Azure Flame (20PP array; Feats: Alternate Power 3) (23PP) BP: Blast 10 AP: Enhanced Flight (5 to 15) 500,000 mph, 4,400,000 ft/rnd) 20PP AP: Healing 6 (Extras: Action (to standard) PFs: Regrowth) 19PP AP: Enhanced Strength 10 (to 30) + Super-Strength 5 20PP (Effective str 70, Heavy Load 204 tons) Flight 5 (250 mph, 2200 f/rnd) 10PP Immunity 10(Aging, Life Support) (10PP) Protection 12 (12PP) Super-Movement 3 (Space Travel 3) (6PP) Super-Strength 3 (6PP) (Effective str 35, Heavy Load, 3.2 tons) DC Block Unarmed Touch DC25 (staged) Damage (physical) Blast Range DC25 (staged) Damage (energy)

Attacking! 18 ...really?

"Ouch." Hannah said, sympathetically. "I was going to go outside and read later." She shrugged. "Oh well. Maybe it'll clear up a bit, later." She glanced around the room and realized something. She was, by a long shot, the least pretty and interesting girl in the room. Yet, this didn't bother her. Probably because by some strange twist of fate, Claremont was just full of pretty people. Except, of course, for her. But she'd gotten used to that part. She got up and started doing basic stretches. Things she knew she could do without looking stupid or without looking like she had no idea what she was doing. She didn't know what she was doing, but at least with stretches, she could fake it.

Hannah smiled. "Don't worry, I'll keep that in mind." She understood that Corinne was, perhaps, a little spacey, a little forgetful. But she was sincere. Whatever else she could say about Corinne, she was sincere. "I've never had a room to myself." she said with a shrug. "Not once, like, ever. I always shared my bedroom with one of my siblings. Six kids, no privacy." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Always loud, always people moving, always people talking. Though my oldest brother is out of the house, now."

At that, Hannah blushed a bit. She didn't really disagree, though. Mostly because, well, her powers were cool. Shapes in all sorts of colors, whatever shapes she wanted. Hannah shrugged and smiled. "I, uh, I make shapes, of crazy colors." She said, most unhelpfully. "Like, I could make a box, a wall, a chair, but the colors are all crazy, shifting and different." It sounded...wrong, when she said it. She groaned at herself. She was smarter than this, more articulate than this, and here she was being incredibly, outrageously unhelpful in her explanation. Smooth, Hannah. Good one.

After the first failed hit, Mali wheeled around with a kick to the side of his head, sending him sprawling. She realized she was too far from the other two to mop them up, and tried to stay mobile as she saw them draw their pistols. This shouldn't be this hard, she mused. Must be having an off night. Back to the gym again.

12 For the first toughness save...reroll! 13 Good thing I rolled under a 10 and can add 10 for a 23 here. 17 ON the second toughness save. Not great, but, it'll sit.

Mali jogged back to her car and fetched her clothes, and after a few minutes returned to Amir wearing a pair of black jogging shorts and a plain black t-shirt. She had a bottle of water with her. "You may be super tough, but I'm human." She said with a chuckle. "What's your daughter's name?" She asked. She wondered what sort of girl would come from him. He was a bit of bluster, a bit of swagger, but he had heart. She could tell that for all his foibles, he was sharper than he let on, and a good deal more compassionate than he appeared. She did her research, he was doing good work.

Hannah was...confused. Curious. She wasn't a chemist, but wine at a high school seemed a bit problematic, and from an apple peel, not all that good. She'd had wine, once. At her brother's wedding. She didn't get in trouble and it was only a sip. She didn't say anything to that, but she did listen. Was this guy flirting with her? She wondered at that. Hannah was no expert at flirting, though. She did speak up, though. "Wow, that's interesting. Um, like cider?" Cider was made from apples, right?

Hannah laughed at the idea of her at Burning Man. Not that she knew much about it, but what she heard told her everything she needed to know. Not her scene, nope. Not even remotely close to anything resembling Hannah Cooper's ideal vacation. She felt good about having Corinne for a roommate. "I'm tidy." She said. "Small, tidy, quiet, out of the way. I mean, if, if you do happen to leave something out, I'll probably end up taking care of it." She admitted. She often picked up after her siblings at home, unasked, unappreciated. "But, you know, as long as you don't make a habit of it." That was a lie, but, she hoped Corinne wouldn't exploit her. She didn't seem the type

He searched both men for the conspicuous bag of money from the sale and pocketed it, and both of their guns. He placed the guns in the same bag. He already had a plan for disposing them. Take them back to his motel room. Disassemble them, destroy them. He was familiar with the guns, similar to what police used. Wasn't anything too dangerous, too big, but whatever worked. John knew his chances of fixing Bedlam didn't exist. The problem was it's soul. Beyond the crime, beyond the violence. It was a city without hope, without ideals. If these guns didn't get to kill any kids or help in any liquor store robberies, if they weren't used in a drug deal gone wrong, well, John mused. That was good enough for now.

"Sucks, doesn't it." He said, landing on the other side of the car. "Feeling lost. Feeling stuck." His voice was cold. They were nervous. Very nervous. That was good. Shaken people rarely focus, rarely think straight. Or shoot straight, for that matter. The seller pulled a gun. A snub nosed revolver. Classic. Six shots. Held it in one shaking hand. Lousy shot. John slid over the hood and kicked the wind from him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He groaned ineffectually, but John didn't have time to waste on him. The other man pulled his gun, held it in both hands. Much better shot. John dropped and kicked his legs from under him. As he lay groaning on the ground, John punched him in the forehead, knocking him cold. Four men, on either side of an alley, unconscious. Probably had records, didn't matter. Even if the cops did catch them red handed, there wasn't much hope to it.

"You know me." He said, a grim smile on his lips. "Good." Then he simply knocked him unconscious. Both buyers were out cold right in front of their vehicle, and John had the guns. A handful of handguns, off the streets, out of their hands. Not much, but every little bit helped. Fewer weapons, not a cure, but a treatment. The sellers were easier. John came around to the other side of the building as they stared incredulously at the open hood and the missing battery. He almost chuckled. They really sucked at this job. He mused that, in a better town, these thugs would have been arrested a long time ago, in prison. Not Bedlam, in Bedlam the law sucked.

The sellers were on the same side of the alley as he was, left their car all alone. Too far from the alley to keep an eye on it, or even to hear it well. They really should have paid more attention. Should have parked closer, should have kept it close. Big mistake. If they had bothered to pay attention on their way out, they would have seen that the bum across the street was now gone. He was already on one of the buildings, watching silently as the buyers headed out of the alley. The sellers weren't going anywhere for a while. He watched the buyers from above. They were actually close to the alley. Two men, one had the guns under one arm, not the most convincing act. They reached the car, and he crouched to jump. He felt the wind in his coat, and waited. As soon as he saw they were ready to get in the car, he leaped. He landed behind one of the men and knocked his legs from under him. The other man turned around to see his friend, on the ground, out cold. "What the..." he felt the hand around his throat as he left his feet, gazing down. The eyes could be anyone's eyes, the mouth, anyone's mouth. That coat, though.

Bedlam City, 11:57 PM, May 20th, 2017 John was sitting in a corner. He had a brown bag bottle in his hand, but it was just water. He wore an old rayon jacket over a stained t-shirt and a pair of tattered, holey shoes. He kept his head down. He was just one more homeless man, one more bum. This face was an older man, graying, paunched, haggard. Looked like a man with a hard life. He didn't even look up when he heard the car stop, or the men get out of the car. There were two of them, one was noticeably heavier than the other, had heavier steps. He didn't look up when he heard the shuffle of footsteps heading into the alleyway. He didn't need to look up, he just sipped his brown bag water. There were more people in the alley, come from the other side. They were talking in hushed tones. This one was a gun deal. Someone was selling a couple of handguns to someone else. This one was important. His hearing was so much sharper than it used to be. He could hear the rats in the building behind him, skittering in the darkness. More importantly, he could hear the voices, the gun deal. The seller and buyer were easy to discern. He'd follow the buyer, first. Get the guns.

Crimson Tiger Tiger and Lion, Oh My! High Caliber: Whistling Dixie Prism Conrad and Cooper Incorporated Limber UpExpanding One's Social Circle Tattered Man Bad Beat Late Night Patrol

Accounted for. - Fox My Late Threads for April, 2017 Tattered Man: Bad Beat 15 posts.