Thunder King

Mali remembered the sparring sessions with Indira with a soft chuckle. Training against someone without human anatomy was tricky, but she was grateful for the opportunity. "It's weird, I spent my whole time at Claremont just wide eyed and confused at the people I saw. Now, it feels odd not hanging out with any aliens or ghosts or people with powers." She smiled and shrugged. "Guess I'd rather be the weird one in a different way." She glanced around at the rather eclectic group of people enjoying their fun in the sun. "Not too many days like this." she shook her head. "So, we've got marriages, engagements, hookups, new people, and probably a lot of other myriad craziness, huh."

Player Name: Thunder King Character Name: The Tattered Man Power Level: 8/11 (150/177 PP) Trade-Offs: None Unspent Power Points: 27 In Brief: A murdered police officer, saved and empowered to save Bedlam. Residence: A cheap motel in Downtown Bedlam Alternate Identity: John Smith Identity: Secret Birthplace: Milwaukee, Wisconsin Occupation: Freelance and under the table work Affiliations: None Family: None he associates with Description: Age: 33 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5'9" Weight: 185 Eyes: Gray Hair: Brown John's appearance varies by which face he's wearing, but his default appearance is of a man of average height and build, with a handsome but otherwise nondescript face. His hair is neatly trimmed and his face is clean shaven. He deliberately picked this face to make himself appear as bland and as uninteresting as possible, to make it easier to fade into crowds and keep his head down. John's costume is an old, tattered coat that's somehow connected to his powers. Despite being tattered and worn, it keeps him warm, and any further damage seems to somehow repair itself. With it, he wears a simple pair of black khaki pants, worn old boots and gloves. All in plain earth tones of black and brown, with a plain black cloth mask over his eyes, forehead and nose to stop 'John Smith' from being recognized. Power Descriptions: John is empowered by ghosts. He's stronger, tougher, and more perceptive than he once was. He can change his appearance to look like one of the ghosts did in life. He heals much faster than an ordinary person, and he can tap into the memory of places and objects that are associated with death. The visions he receives in this way, however, are often jumbled and twisted by emotion. History: He was born Stephen Chambers in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He was an only child, raised by neglectful and abusive parents. His teenage years were full of anger, strife, and bad choices. However, sometime during high school he resolved to make something of himself. He emancipated himself and worked his way through college, trying to make a difference, wanting to be a cop. He served in Milwaukee for a time, and felt good about his life and the choices he made. Then, he transferred to Bedlam. He was in over his head and failed to see the warning signs. He knew Bedlam was bad, but he was unprepared for the scope of the corruption. He learned, though, six months into it. He was betrayed by someone he called a friend, and kidnapped. He saw things he shouldn't have seen. They dragged him out to an old abandoned lot and put two bullets in him, then buried him. Something about the gun or their aim went bad, because as bad as it hurt, he wasn't dead. The old lot was full of ghosts, the spirits of the slain. All the people who had been disposed of there over the years. They found him, clinging to life, and they concocted a plan. They poured power into him, supernatural, spiritual energy. They healed him, they strengthened him. They taught him a lot of what they knew about Bedlam, but the long years of haunting made much of their advice and knowledge incomprehensible. He doesn't quite know how long he was buried, some of his own memories were lost in the shuffle. He knows he was buried in autumn, and awoke in winter, and he doesn't quite know why. He dug himself out of his grave and discovered he was wearing a tattered old long coat, which he did not remember owning or wearing. He found himself some contacts for under the table work, and a motel that takes cash but doesn't ask questions. He introduces himself as John, John Smith, to all who ask. However, when rumors started up of a crazed man in an old coat sticking his nose in where it didn't belong, the rumors called him the Tattered Man. Personality & Motivation: Despite what happened, John's attitude hasn't gotten much worse. He's bitter about what happened to him, but he tries not to let it tear him apart. Whatever else happened, he's still alive. He feels that his newfound powers are more blessing than curse, because now he can fight Bedlam's corruption with the benefit of total anonymity. Powers & Tactics: John hits hard and moves fast, using basic self-defense techniques simply and efficiently. He can survive more than an ordinary person, but knows his limits. Therefore, he takes advantage of the environment and never fights fair when he can avoid it. Complications: Amnesia: There are some details about his former life that are fuzzy, up to and including the identities of his own attempted killers. He has most of the skills and knowledge that he used to have, but some of the minutae of his personal life remain a mystery. So Many Faces, So Little Time: John can change his appearance, but has a specific set of appearances he can take on. This means he has to be careful which faces he shows to whom, and can be caught if he's not careful. I am John Smith: John has no family, no friends, no support network, no job, and no real home. If it can't be done with cash or haggling, he can't do it. Through a Glass, Darkly: His postcognition is the ability to see visions of deaths in an area or on an object. However, this is done through the eyes of those who experienced it, either the killer, or the slain. What he sees is usually twisted and strange, difficult to understand and heavily influenced by emotional states. He has to parse what he sees and interpret it, and these interpretations are not perfect. Abilities: 4 + 8 + 6 + 8 + 4 + 6 = 36PP Strength: 14/26 (+2/+8) Dexterity: 18 (+4) Constitution: 16/22 (+3/+6) Intelligence: 18 (+4) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 10 + 6 = 16PP Initiative: +8 Attack: +8 Melee, +5 Ranged Grapple: +16 Defense: +8 (+3 Base, +5 Dodge Focus), +1 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4 Saving Throws: 2 + 2 + 3 = 7PP Toughness: +8 (+6 Con, +2 protection) Fortitude: +8 (+6 Con, +2) Reflex: +6 (+4 Dex, +2) Will: +5 (+2 Wis, +3) Skills: 104R = 26PP Acrobatics: 6 (+10) Computers: 4 (+8) Disable Device: 6 (+10) Disguise: 2 Escape Artist: 4 (+4) Gather Information: 8 (+12) Intimidate: 8 (+11) Investigate: 8 (+12) Knowledge (Civics): 6 (+10) Knowledge (Current Events): 6 (+10) Knowledge (Life Sciences): 6 (+10) Knowledge (Streetwise): 6 (+10) Medicine: 4 (+8) Notice: 8 (+12) Search: 8 (+12) Sense Motive: 6 (+8) Stealth: 8 (+12) Feats: 24PP Attack Focus (melee) 3 Beginner's Luck Dodge Focus 5 Elusive Target Fearless Hide in Plain Sight Improved Disarm Improved Initiative Improved Throw Improved Trip Luck 2 Move-by Action Power Attack Quick Change Takedown Attack 2 Uncanny Dodge (Audio) Powers: 6 + 12 + 2 + 4 + 2 + 2 + 3 + 10 = 41PP All Powers are of the magic descriptor Enhanced Constitution 6 (to 22) [6PP] Enhanced Strength 12 (to 26) [12PP] Leaping 2 (x5; running jump 90ft; standing jump 45 ft, high jump 22 ft)[2PP) Morph 2: Broad Group (The dead buried in the abandoned lot) [4PP] Protection 2 [2PP] Regeneration 2 (Injured 1/5 minutes) [2PP] Speed 3 (50 mph, 440 ft. per move) [3PP] Super-Senses 10 (Accurate Audio, Darkvision, Postcognition) [10PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 23 Toughness Damage (Physical) Totals: Abilities (36) + Combat (16) + Saving Throws (7) + Skills (26) + Feats (24) + Powers (41) - Drawbacks (0) = 150/177

Mali smiled, recognizing Daphne immediately. "I remember, yeah. We didn't get to talk much, no. You can run in the same circles as someone, but never actually interact with them." She looked around the beach. "Surfing, volleyball, eating. This is a beach party the way they need to be done." She looked all around. "I'm seriously considering moving in. Advanced training facilities, lots of good company. Sounds like a good arrangement to me." She fetched a bottle of water from the little bag she brought. "Plus, I mean, it's a castle, right? Who wouldn't want to lie in a castle?"

The gathering of the strange and wonderful drew Mali to the beach. She found Eve, her anchor in the oddness, lounging and talking with her fiance. So, without making a big deal of it, she walked up. "So, there I was, lifting, you know, like I do. Headphones in my ear, music blaring....did not check my phone. I would have been here sooner, but you know things are." She dropped a chair near-ish the one Eve was sitting in, and unfolded it. She was wearing a modest bikini, dark red against well tanned skin. It was obvious that she'd gotten a bit of ink in recent days. A tiger on her shoulder, a little writing in Thai near her ankle. Her short cropped hair was sticking out in all directions, and she wore the latest sunglasses. "So, been a while, thanks for the invite." she glanced around and just, smiled."Great day for the beach."

Vignette Proposal; How else have you helped? Concept: Tell a story about a time where your PC helped the community in a way that wasn't super heroics. Did they visit sick kids? Did they volunteer their time? Did they organize an event or establish a charitable organization? It doesn't necessarily need to take place in Freedom City, nor does it have to be out of costume.

"Not a bad idea." Crimson Tiger admitted. "But I think the big guy that can sneak up on me and uses a bow? Should stick to the shadows. A lot easier to hit people if they don't know you're there. The other thing is, I'm not immune to bullets. Are you? These guys are gun merchants, I do not want a small army to aim at my face. I'm good, I ain't that good. Panicky people with guns tend to use them a lot, and even if it makes them too nervous to be accurate, they might throw enough lead for it not to matter." She said. She wondered what Arrowhawk would think, and anticipated he'd disagree. He seemed far more inclined to stick to the shadows, and that's where she herself preferred to be. Better to be sneaky than shot full of holes. She wasn't afraid to die, but she wasn't going to volunteer for it if she didn't have to.

Well, this was ominous. A cab pulls up, a door opens, and...they're invited in? Hannah looked at the others, and blinked. "Uh...did someone call a cab? I didn't. I mean, a cab would be appreciated, but I don't think any of us called for one." she was a little perturbed, and even with the calming presence of the cab, it was a bit suspicious. Was it a super powered cab? A magical cab? She hoped someone else had an answer, or at least a reason to hop in. She'd been mostly quiet during the dinner, and was frankly happy that her fellow students were willing to do some of the work. At her old high school group projects ended up being solo projects. She often didn't mind too much, but it was still very annoying.

tagging

Hannah smiled. "Don't worry, you look fine." She said. "Your skin tone just means we need to apply lighter shades to you. I think it makes your eyes pop. Make up can work on any skin tone." She looked at the other girls, and sighed, resigning herself to the party. "I'm ready when you guys are." She managed with some difficulty. She was going along with it because that's what she needed to do, but she was still quite nervous about the whole thing. The closest thing to a party she'd ever been to was her friend's birthday party at six years old, and she was sure there would be no magician at this one.

Laptop charger died. A new one is en route but it probably won't be here until Friday.

Bad guys, yes, to punch. Mali wondered where the offer came from, and she wondered more why she'd accepted it. Probably her sense of adventure. She did not know anything about Tarva, and had only briefly spoken to a few of the other people she now associated with. She had a feeling there was more to the story than she'd heard, even in snippets. So, she stayed quiet, listened more than she spoke. She was happy to see her friends from school, if nothing else. The Power Corps she could handle, more so than the Terminus and magic. They had faces to punch, and they were robbing a bank. Should be relatively simple, she thought. Of course, when she put the costume on things almost never stayed simple. More than once, she wondered what she brought to the table, what she was valued for. More than once, she quashed those thoughts. These were smart people, they wouldn't have wanted her here if there wasn't a good reason to bring her in.

Crimson Tiger scoffed. "Yeah, I get you. This business gets shut down tonight, and everybody walks away alive. Even if they've had a very bad night." She shrugged. "I don't want to get shot either. I have better things to do with my time." She looked to Arrowhawk. "Now are we all just going to sneak in and punch or shoot them until they're all on the ground, or do you have a different plan in mind, oh great Scottish scowly one?" She was joking a bit, but she had every intention of listening to his ideas. She'd never worked with Terrifica before, but if she'd traced the guns back here that meant she had at least a little in the way of qualifications. As for Crimson Tiger, she felt it was best to do a multi-pronged assault, have everyone go in a different way and meet in the middle. But she didn't know how Terrifica fought.

Mali loved Halloween, always had. Had a lot to do with the costumes, the cheesy movies, the candy. One of the times of year where she managed her diet a little less strenuously. A few more crunches to her routine would help cover for any indulgences. Tonight she was a vampire. She wore a black dress for her costume, Gothic and a bit macabre, with some long black gloves. Some makeup to make her look pale, with dark red lipstick, striking eye makeup, red contact lenses, extendable fangs, and the last addition; an elegant black wig, because her short haircut didn't suit the get-up. She opened the door and was delighted to see that all sorts of people were inside. "Good evening." She said in a reasonable facsimile of an Eastern European accent.

"Heh, can't swing a longbow without running into another mask?" She chuckled. "Alright I see what you're pointing at. Multi-directional assault. Keep to the shadows, get the drop on 'em." She started moving to sneak over to where Arrowhawk had pointed. "Oh, and I'm in college." With that, she moved back in to the shadows. She doubted that he'd lost track of her. He was older, more experienced, probably more skilled. He got the drop on her, not an easy task, definitely suggested skill. His build, costume and gear suggested a lack of powers, or at least powers that weren't overt. His voice was probably exaggerated to make him sound scarier, but he still sounded noticeably older than she was. Someone worth listening to, she thought.

"Yes, I can do that." She said, producing a tiny ball in her hand that began shedding light in every direction. "So, I think we should get inside and find out what triggered the riot. Try not to hurt people as we do so." She offered as a suggestion. She looked up at the looming asylum, and closed her eyes for a moment. "It's just a simulation." She said to herself. "Like a video game, a play. It's not real, but we have to treat it like it's real." She then mumbled. "Not that it makes it less scary...." With that in mind, she set to walking towards the asylum.

It all started with a gun, three guns. Three thugs robbing a store together who found themselves at the wrong end of a punch. The guns weren't weird, but they were all the same model. That struck her as odd, so her gut feeling lead her to question them. That lead to more questions, and more people. More punches, more questions. Now, here she was at a warehouse. Warehouses were always fun, she'd once stumbled into a bunch of ninjas. Her cousin once had a bunch of his men ambush her in one. So now she was on a rooftop, surveying a warehouse and trying to get a plan together. How to break in, how to take them down. Weapon smugglers obviously meant weapons. She had no intention of barging into a barrage of gunfire. She was tough, not gunfire absorbing tough. Careful consideration had to be made. She could go in through the side, skulking and getting the drop on them, knocking them out one by one. So she crouched and planned.

Skill Mastery on Stealth for 23, she's approaching via the nearest building she can, though probably somewhere similar to Arrowhawk.

She's in, movies and friends

Hannah thought she understood, holograms. Solid but not real. She considered. "Like my powers?" She said, creating a small box between her hands, it was roughly shaped and looked to be made of stained glass. "It feels solid, but if I say...made a chicken it wouldn't be alive, it'd just feel real. I think what that means is these holograms look and feel real, but aren't actually there. Or am I not getting this either?" She asked. She was trying to be helpful, but she wondered if Winifred would understand the concept.

Hannah smiled. "I know how to apply makeup, I'll take Cathy, Robin, go with Raina." Makeup was in her realm of knowledge, at least, even if high fashion wasn't. "I can pick out something good, something that will work with your skin tone but won't be too...vivid." She nodded. "This is one thing I do know how to do." She said with a smile. "Colors are my thing." She gave a little smile and looked at each of the girls, wondering if they'd go with her plans.

tagging for future use

Hannah knew that Winifred was afraid of losing control, but she wasn't afraid. She knew what her monstrous form could do, at least, well enough to know what it was. She could put up walls between her and the monster if need be, and around others. "I can fly." she said quietly to Winifred. "I'll be okay." She did not say, however, whether or not she'd handle the assessment well. She trusted her scholastic abilities, but she secretly worried that they'd decry her as a lost cause and send her home, unable to truly master her powers. "An assessment, um, okay." She said, nodding nervously. "I've been practicing, and...um, yeah I'll do my best."

Hannah kind of understood what she was trying to say, even if she couldn't understand sign language. <Dunno how it works> She said, shrugging. <Name's Hannah. Nice to meet you.> She gave a little wave. She looked around. <Administration?> She said with another construct. She was going to try to limit it to yes/no questions, simple things that could give simple responses. The best option, to avoid forcing Naomi to constantly write in her notebook. Easier for both of them.

Hannah nodded, and thought for a moment. Then she had an idea. She placed her hands at chest height near her shoulders and a swirling mass of colors, it coalesced, shaped itself into varying shapes before turning into letters. It wasn't too difficult, the constructs were completely hollow and mostly weak. It changed, and after a moment, it said. <Ok> then, <will this help communication?> She grumbled, wishing she could give the other girl the ability, or at least something easier than a notepad.

Hannah was taking in the autumn air, enjoying the brisk weather for a few minutes before heading back inside. She was wearing a generously sized blue hoodie and a pair of blue jeans. When she spotted Naomi, she instantly recognized her for what she was; new people. The girl was probably lost, or at least confused. Hannah sighed slightly, and decided she would do the only fair thing; go over and help. "Hi." She said, walking up to Naomi. "New here? Need help?" She said with a slight smile. She felt better at Claremont than she had at home. Being normal here was being a bit weird, but that was okay.