Thunder King

He has +10 in Life Science, as part of his police training. 23

The Tattered Man cursed under his breath and charged toward the truck from the opposite direction. He jumped clear onto the side of the truck, and after a moment of wobbliness, managed to stabilize himself on the passenger side. He managed to pop the door open and slide inside to see what state the driver was in, if there was one.

https://orokos.com/roll/998425 He landed. Do I need to roll to get into the truck?

John is going to try to see if he can jump onto and into the truck to see if he can see if there's a driver inside and if he can get control over the truck. Acrobatics check?

Tagging

Crimson Tiger introduced herself to the students in the room. Then said; "Try to avoid using your powers, if you can. I know some of you can't, and that's fine. If you have enhanced strength, try to avoid these heavy bags. Use the other ones over there, those are better suited to that." "Let me show you a quick demonstration." she said. She stepped up to the heavy bag, and looked to the students. "Martial arts is all about applying momentum. Let me show you." She threw a quick punch at the heavy bag. It hit with a decent amount of force, with a slight thud. "This punch was just with force from my arm. Just from my shoulder, to my fist." Then, she delivered another, much harder punch. The students heard a much louder THUD from that punch. "This one started here, at my hips. I rotated my entire torso into that punch." She mimed the punch slowly, drawing attention to her body, from her hips, up through her torso, then to her arm. "It's about channeling momentum. I rotate my hips slightly into the punch. Getting good at it takes months to years of practice. Getting good enough to throw a decent punch doesn't take a whole lot of practice." Then, she shuffled backward slightly. "Now, years of practice looks more like this." Suddenly, her right foot flew up and slammed into the side of the heavy bag with the loudest THUD yet, sending the bag rocking on it's chain. "Or." Then, she stepped forward, and delivered a powerful knee strike to the heavy bag, then hopped to her other foot and threw another knee strike. Her foot touched the floor for just a second, before she slammed her knee into the bag again, and again, and again. "This is just an extra; I practice muay thai, which is a martial art that doesn't just use the hands and feet, but also the knees and elbows. By shortening the distance the force from my torso has to travel, I reduce the amount of force lost to momentum, and maximize the amount of force delivered to the target." She delivered a quick, powerful looking elbow to the heavy bag. "Now, each of you partner up and step up to one of the heavy bags, and practice some basic punches. Remember, try to rotate from your hips. If you need to start slower to get used to using your whole torso, do that. Start slow, move slow, and build up speed."

Voltage Voltage had been simply mingling in the party when one of the smartest people on the planet arrived. He knew, secondhand, that things had happened with Archeville. He had devoured the information years before, and now, the man was here. The super-genius cyberkinetic did nothing but stand by and observe. He could have attempted to hack into the security systems at the Hall to observe things, but he didn't. For one, they were competent enough to sort things on their own. For two, he wasn't sure if even his prodigious skills would allow him to circumvent their security. It would be a terrible time for the League to think they were under a cyber attack. Instead, he simply continued to mingle while he stood in the room. He, like many of the other heroes, was on edge. He didn't anticipate an attack, but Archeville's arrival could certainly create tension.

Crimson Tiger chuckled. Cockroach boy. She had seen weirder, and with worse form. "Agility is great." She said. "Very useful. I'm going to help you learn how to fight." She smiled. "Let's wait for a couple of the other kids to show up before we get into the heavy stuff." She glanced over at the extra strength speed and heavy bags she had dragged out of storage. They could withstand much more force than she herself could put out. Specially designed for students that could hit with superhuman force. She would assess them, one by one, asking them to throw a simple punch. She would make sure their hands were properly wrapped, too.

Mali smiled to Cassie "Hello, Cassie. It's great to meet you. I always like meeting new people. It's a lot of fun." She smiled to the girl. Cute kid, she thought. She accepted the hug from Chris with grace, and a little awkwardness. "Edge would. If he's the kind of guy I've heard he is." Then, turning to him, she remarked. "Zeke here looks like he has a punchable face. Though that'd probably screw with the whole redemption thing she's trying. Hope he learns." Mali turned to Golden Star. "Actually, yeah, I've done quite a bit of teaching before. I have a full time student, he's a cousin of mine. I don't mind teaching the occasional lesson. In fact..." She pulled a card from her pocket. "This is an email address that connects to Crimson Tiger. Talk to someone at the school, get permission for me to show up and work with you, and I'll teach you and some of your friends a few moves. Or just give them my card. Somebody there will remember me, and contact me about showing up a few times." "Now, if you don't mind me, I've got an Atlantean princess to go greet. Love meeting you." She waved, and walked toward Thaelia. "Thae! Long time no see!" She said with a laugh. "Still allergic to subtlety, huh?" She walked up and greeted her old friend with a grin.

Crimson Tiger Mali politely excused herself, and walked over towards Geckoman. She wanted to politely introduce herself to one of the old guard of Claremont, and one of the original members of Young Freedom. Not to mention one of the Interceptors, which, as a street level hero, were her favorite hero team. She walked over and gave a smile. "Hi, um, I'm Mali. I go by Crimson Tiger, um, out there. Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I was on Young Freedom, too. After you. Actually, um, after me, the name stopped being used. I'm so sorry, I'm being awkward, and weird. That's not me, not normally."

Voltage Near where Angelic was standing, a small cloud of silver electrical current appeared in thin air. A second later, the electricity coalesced into a rough humanoid shape, before solidifying into a lean, nearly gaunt man with short gray hair. He actually looked somewhat healthier than he had recently. He smiled and nodded rather awkwardly, smiling to Eira, who was one of the people he knew well enough to greet. "Hello. I don't often come out for these sorts of things. How are you doing?"

Crimson Tiger For a moment, Mali stared off into space. "That was nine years ago. Nine damn years ago. I graduated from high school 10 years ago." She chuckled. "Wow, yeah. Um, I'm good. I own my own business, now. I'm into sports medicine, helping people recover from injuries. Heroes, especially. If you know anyone who needs PT from a hero injury, I can give you my card. I've got some solid backers." Mali turned and looked out, before mumbling to herself. "Holy crap, that's Geckoman...never actually met him, before."

Mali spotted someone familiar, and wandered over. It wasn't like Mali was unused to meeting new people, but, she still felt more comfortable with people she knew. So, when she saw Lynn, she had to head over and say hello to her old boss and landlady. "Hi! Been a while. How are you?" She said with a broad smile. She hoped Lynn would remember her. She didn't live there or work for Lynn for long, but her memories were positive.

Mali stepped into the room. She had elected to go without her costume. Either people would recognize her, or they wouldn't. Any that would would be people she knew, anyone who wouldn't would be people she simply hadn't met. So, there she was, in a biker jacket, a black t-shirt and black leather, heeled boots. She had a somewhat wild pixie cut that had been tousled by her helmet. A quick look at a mirror told her that it hardly hurt, so she didn't bother to correct it. She had considered bringing Somchai, her student, along. She waffled on it for a bit. She was considering bringing him to Claremont, or recommending his attendance. While his mother was alive, and still taking care of him, she felt a motherly attachment to him. Either way, he was no less talented than she had been at his age. She smiled, looking around for people she either knew, or wouldn't mind talking to.

Valid points, thanks! I'll deal with them.

I mean, if you have any, sure.

Batallion (PL8/10) - Thunder King Unspent Power Points: 0 All PP must be spent at character creation but unspent points may accrue during play. Trade-Offs: +2 Damage/-2 Attack (melee only) In Brief:German-American teenaged battle suit. Catchphrase: Theme:. Alternate Identity: Alexis Schwartz Birthplace: Munich, Bavaria, Germany Residence: Freedom City Base of Operations: Claremont Academy Occupation: Student Affiliations: None Family: Karl Schwartz, Father. Emma Schwartz, mother. Jacob Schwartz older brother, Claudia Schwartz, older sister Tomas Schwartz, older brother. Description: Age: 16 (April 19, 2007). Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5’1”/6’8” in the Battalion Armor Weight: 105 lbs/350 lbs in the Battallion Armor Eyes: Brown Hair: Brown Alexis is a short, slight teen girl with big glasses and a lot of pride. She never slouches, always holding her head up. She’s not unpretty, but she doesn’t put a lot of time or energy into her appearance. She carries the bearing of someone who’s used to being overlooked. She wears a lot of jeans and t-shirts, mostly blank. The Battalion armor is six foot eight inches tall and looks like a suit of medieval knight’s armor, colored black with dark blue accents. In it, she wields a big mace and wears a large tower shield on her other arm. There’s a small energy blaster built into both wrists. History: Alexis always dreamed of being big. Her father is north of two meters, and her mother is fairly tall as well. Both of her brothers are as tall as their dad, and her sister is near the equal of their mother. Alexis is the only member of the family that one can call ‘short’. Alexis was born to Karl and Emma Schwartz. Her father had been a supervillain in Germany from the mid-90s through the early 2000s. He met and married American fitness model Emma Lawrence, and moved to Freedom City to be with her. Karl reformed and quit the villainy business in 2001, right before he and his wife got married. She was already pregnant with their first child, Jacob. They moved to the United States, specifically Freedom City, where Karl used his wealth to build up business contracts and reestablish himself in the United States. Alexis went to a prep school for rich kids for most of her early life. However, she was easily smarter than most of her class, and asked her father for tools and bits of old tech so she could tinker around. One day, shortly after her 15th birthday, her father stumbled into his workshop to find that Alexis had constructed the beginnings of a mechanized battle suit, a suit of personal armor of great physical strength and energy blasters mounted on the gauntlets. He realized that he had a nascent supervillain in his own home, and, after reaching out to some contacts in the super community, decided to send her to Claremont Academy to correct her course. Personality & Motivation: Alexis is at Claremont because she has to be, not because she wants to be. She’s eager to make friends and show her stuff, but her goals are not entirely heroic. The Battalion suit is still in continuous development, and Alexis is looking forward to a chance to use it in a proper scrap. Still, she is at a school for superheroes, and while that isn’t necessarily her goal, she’ll play along if it means getting a chance to grow her skills and properly learn. Powers & Tactics: The Battalion armor is not a subtle machine. In it, Alexis moves with a fairly plodding pace. As Battalion, Alexis firmly believes that straightforward brute force is often the best solution to any problem. Despite her brilliant mind, Alexis would rather hit her problems than solve them with cleverness. Power Descriptions: The Battalion armor stands at over six feet eight inches tall. The wrist mounted energy blasters fire brilliant blue blasts of energy. However, the main offensive tool of her armor is the mace. Her power mace is little more than a metal cudgel, swung with significant force. Complications: Cynical: Alexis has never been popular with anyone but her doting parents. She’s frequently overlooked even by her older siblings. Because of this, she is slow to trust, and already deeply cynical before her eighteenth birthday. Unsubtle: Alexis is a fan of complex machines and simple plans. She will suggest the quickest, most efficient course of action in every context in which she has a say. She will endeavor to convince her allies to act decisively, even when that isn’t the most prudent decision. Proud: She is a genius engineer and the daughter of a genius engineer. She has a big ego, and will try to make people answer for it if they bruise it. Clunky: The Battalion armor is much bigger than Alexis herself. This means that, in some situations, it might make things inconvenient for herself or others due to its sheer size. She might break things in it by accident. Normal Identity: Alexis has no powers or combat abilities if she’s deprived of the Battalion armor. All she’s left with is her clever mind and the skills she has developed with it. Abilities: -2 + 4 + 2 + 5+ 4+ 6 = 24PP Strength: 24/8 (+7/-1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 12 (+1) Intelligence: 20 (+5) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 6 + 6 = 12PP Initiative: +2 Attack: +6 Melee, +8 Ranged (energy Blast) Defense: +8 (+2 Base, +5 Shield), +2 Flat-Footed Grapple: +13 (+17 with Super Strength) Knockback: -7 Saving Throws: 13 5 + 4 + 4 = 13PP Toughness: +8 (+1 Con, +7 Protection, +7 Impervious) Fortitude: +6 (+1 Con, +5) Reflex: +6 (+2 Dex, +4) Will: +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 96R = 24PP Bluff 7 (+10) Computers 11 (+16) Craft (Electronic) 11 (+16) Craft Mechanical 11 (+16) Disable Device 7 (+10) Diplomacy 7 (+10) Knowledge (Earth Sciences) 10 (+15) Knowledge (Life Sciences) 5 (+10) Knowledge (Physical sciences) 9 (+14) Knowledge (Technology) 11 (+16) Search 7 (+12) Feats: 13PP Accurate Attack All-Out Attack Attack Focus Melee 3 Attack Focus Ranged Attack Specialization 2 (Energy Blasts) Benefit Wealth Eidetic Memory Improved Grab Improved Grapple Improvised Tools Powers: 64= 64PP Device: Battalion Suit Blast 8 (energy blast)(80 ft) [16PP] Enhanced Strength 16 [16PP] Flight 3 (50 mph) [6PP] Protection 7 [7PP] Shield 5 [5PP] Speed 3 [3PP] Super-Senses 2 (Low-Light vision, Ultravision) [2PP) Super-Strength 4 to 5.6 tons [8PP] Drawbacks: (-0) + (-0) = -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 23 Toughness Damage Mace Touch DC 25 Toughnes Damage Energy Blast Ranged DC 23 Toughness Damage Totals: Abilities 24) + Combat (12) + Saving Throws (13) + Skills (24) + Feats (13) + Powers (64) - Drawbacks (0) = 150/150 Power Points

John knew one of the two vehicles had this man’s driver. If he let him get there, he would drive off. Just as the man got to his car, John landed on the hood of the car and stared him dead in the eye. “What the hell do you want, freak?” He stammered. Without even looking away from the seller, John shattered the windshield with his bare hand and knocked the driver out cold. John stepped off the car and walked toward the seller, malice in his eyes. “Look, man, I got money, take it. It’s inside. Lemme just get out of here, and…” HIs courage failed him, and he turned to run. He ran straight into John. Though he was the taller of the two, he did nothing to budge John. John snatched the man by his chin and lifted him clear into the air with as much effort as he might a jug of milk. “You like guns.” He said walking forward, the man dangling helplessly in his hand. “You’ve seen this city, man, it’s a hellhole.” “People like you make it worse.” “What do you want from me, man…I’m just a middleman, I just…” John reached into his coat and pulled from it a sawed-off shotgun. He leveled it at the seller’s head. “Have you ever been shot?” “N-no, no man, I…” “I have. This is a twelve gauge, sawed-off, double barreled shotgun. Now, I’ve never seen one of these fired so closely before, so I don’t know what it’s going to do.” The man began shaking in raw terror as John leveled the shotgun directly at his face, touching the tip of the barrel against his nose. Suddenly, his hand jerked to the side, and John fired both barrels into the wall behind the seller’s head, with the barrel inches from his right ear. “I’d like to imagine you are the most afraid you’ve ever been in your life.” John said, letting the man collapse to the ground. He held one hand up to his ear in pain. The man was a stuttering mess. John gripped the shotgun in both hands and, after some effort, bent the barrel to the point of uselessness. “You will remember tonight.” John said. “You will remember the night I had your life in my hands. If I could do that to hard wood and steel, imagine what I could have done to your bones.” He sneered down at the shaking man, and walked away. He turned towards the warehouse where he saw the other driver stare in amazement. The driver took off driving, and John let him go. Let him tell everyone he knew what he saw here tonight, what the Tattered Man could do. John found the guns and broke each one with his bare hands. He gathered up the ammo to dispose of somewhere. Last, he took up the cash. The life of a vigilante crime fighter gave John few money making opportunities, and he wasn’t above taking ill-gotten gains to feed, house and clothe himself. Most of the cash would be slipped into the coffers of trustworthy charities throughout the city. He didn’t bother surrendering any of it to the cops. He had two old scars on the back of his head that told him how fruitless that would be. John returned to his motel room. He stopped by the office and paid for the next month before settling into bed, falling to sleep just before dawn.

His enhanced hearing allowed him to hear everything. They had about ten guns, ready for sale. He’d gotten there just in time. He pried one of the windows open, and let himself drop to the rafters that held the lights. All in all, there were twelve men. Two men, presumably the buyer and the seller, stood near a table with a bag and a couple of wooden crates, he assumed they contained the guns. The men seemed to have five each, all standing a distance away. They were the guards and thugs, here to make sure the deal went smoothly. None of the men below seemed to notice when he pulled the cord out from the first light, or the second one. By the fourth they were trying to figure out what was wrong. As far as they could tell, it might be a power failure. He was too far up and it was too dark in the rafters for any of them to see him. All they saw was the light in the building slowly going out as he disconnected each one. He left the last one, right above his targets. Then, he dropped. He landed on the table where the cash and guns had been placed and shattered it with his impact. He was completely unharmed and stood up slowly to stare the buyer straight in the eye. He knew this wasn’t the best tactic, but they needed to know that they had something to fear. The man reached for his gun, but John kicked him hard in the chest, sending him crumpling to the ground. He had seconds before the rest of them would draw their guns and fire on him. He picked one of the men out in the shadows, and leaped towards him. He blocked his head with his arms in case the man got a shot off, landed into a crouch, and knocked him off his feet with a vicious uppercut. Two of the twelve were down. He ran quickly towards the next man and kicked him in the side of the head. He heard a shot go off, then another. They had no idea where he was, they were just panicking. He spotted the third man’s rifle and whipped it across the room at one of the men on the other side of the light. It hit him square in the chest and sent him sprawling. He ran towards the next man, who managed to level his rifle at him. John hopped to the left in mid stride, then the right before he reached him, nailing the man with a straight punch to the nose. He whipped around, tattered coat spinning as he turned to the sixth man. This one just stared in horror as John approached. John kicked him in the gut and sent him crumpling to the floor. The seventh man, who was right by the sixth, raised his hands as if to block a punch. Instead, John grabbed him by his arm and threw him over his shoulder at the eighth man. The ninth man drew his pistol and had him dead to rights. John ducked low and charged in. He managed to shoot John in the shoulder before John tackled him, lifted him, and threw him hard on the concrete floor. The final three men broke out into a run. John bolted after them. He reached the tenth man only a few feet away, grabbed him by the back of his coat, and threw him hard to the floor. The eleventh man almost made it to the door. John jumped into the air, landed in front of him, and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling back into the warehouse. Only the seller remained.

John landed beside Sally and walked up. She was sitting outside the diner, a cigarette in her hand. She was in her mid-fifties, wearing an old stained jacket over a server’s uniform. She was somewhat heavyset, with graying hair and pale skin. Still, her gray eyes were still sharp, and she was clever when it counted. She glanced up at John. John Smith, aka the Tattered Man, was not a tall man. However, towered over her. Sally handed him a bag with a sandwich, a bottle of soda, and a bag of chips. He tried to pay him, but she turned him down. A few months prior, John had scared off a pair of would-be robbers and broken their guns. They ran off in a tear, and Sally had given him free food on occasion, since. “Thank you.” John said, sincerely. He knew from experience that you give everyone the same base respect. Sally was a good person, and she didn’t have to give him anything. Sally’s Diner was not a star restaurant, but it was a fine little place to eat. Sally kept it clean, and her cooking was decent enough for what it was. John liked her diner for more than just food, however. People saw old Sally as little more than wallpaper, and they let all sorts of juicy details slip. Neither mentioned it, but Sally had slipped a little note into the wrapping of his sandwich. She had an amazing memory, and passed any info John could use along. John turned to leave and sort out the night’s activities. “Hey, do you think you’re gonna make Bedlam a better place like this?” She asked. John turned back. “No.” “Why bother?” “I can’t fix Bedlam, but I can make a difference.” Sally nodded. “Alright. Maybe one day one of them big supers from over in Freedom City will come help wash this place clean.” “I doubt it. Thank you again.” John vanished back into the shadows, away from the light outside Sally’s Diner. He slipped into an alley and bounded up the walls before he landed on the roof. The sandwich was turkey, swiss and mayo. He devoured it, having not eaten much that day. His powers made him tougher than most people, so he could live longer without food. Didn’t do much to stop him from getting hungry. He read the note. There was a deal going down in one of the warehouses. A few guns for some cash. He couldn’t make Bedlam a better place by himself, but he wasn’t about to let them make it worse. He finished his dinner and stretched. The sale was in an hour or two, which gave him plenty of time to scout ahead. When he got to the warehouse, it was obvious that something was going down. There were four cars parked outside the warehouse, two of them were idling with just drivers in them. He considered disabling the vehicles, but he couldn’t risk the people inside getting warned. Instead, if anyone escaped he’d simply have to catch them before they got too far. It took little effort to climb up the side of the warehouse and peer into the windows to see the deal below.

vCat-Sith Simon signaled something resembling sympathy, and moved no closer to Neko. He did, however, make sure she knew she wasn't alone, unless she wanted him to leave. He wasn't entirely sure what happened, but he could tell she was upset, so he decided to sit up in the tree to keep her company. He stretched, and curled up. He kept his eye on Neko, letting her know he was just going to be there.

Cat-Sith Simon wasn't quite ready for the crowd that gathered, and, so, slowly slipped away. He doubted anyone noticed, or cared all that much. Then, Neko climbed up the tree. He slipped in to cat form, walked around the tree, and hopped up the other side. He climbed on to a nearby branch and curled up comfortably. "Don't mind me." He said, one yellow eye glancing at the girl. "Just enjoyin' one of my favorite spots on campus. I ain't good with all these people just yet."

Cat-Sith Simon didn't want to admit that he didn't relate to his foster parents very well, so he just said. "They're nice people." Simon turned to Holly and gave a broad smile. "Why, yes, I am. Thank you, yours is very nice. People didn't have hair dye from where I came from. I don't know Owain or Neko very well, I just got a bit thirsty." He had to admit, she was pretty. Claremont was full of pretty girls. This was not a negative. When he heard a reference to cats, he chuckled to himself. Then, his form shifted in shadow, and he was replaced by a small black cat, with a white spot on it's chest. He blinked up at the rest of the crowd. He gave a cat-like languid stretch. He briefly considered jumping up to the counter, but he didn't want to get his fur on their wares. So, after showing off a bit, he changed back into his human form.

Cat-Sith Simon was already on campus, having nowhere else to go. He avoided any and al responsibility as an 'upper-classman', but he did decide to actually get out of his room. He decided the little lemonade stand was a good place to start. He hopped down from a nearby wall and walked over. "Oo, lemonade." He said, fishing around in his pockets. "Sounds good." He looked up, and up, and up, at the much taller boy, and handed him the coins. "Can't blame ya for makin' a little money. No shame in offerin' up something to drink. A little honest business never hurt nobody."

Saturday August 20th There were certain advantages to catlike mobility. One was solitude, when he needed it. He had his bundled lunch sitting beside him as he sat on the roof, just staring out into the distance. He didn't quite acquire a taste for fish sticks, as they were called. He knew what they were, like sausages made from fish, battered and fried. He ate them, but they weren't the same thing. Even before he was turned into a cat, he had a thing for fish. Fresh fish, caught right from the river or lake, cooked properly. He loved a lot of modern food. Once he got used to how well seasoned everything was he discovered such a wonderful variety of foods. He let one foot dangle off the roof. He liked sitting up here. Few people would bother him. One thing he almost missed about being a cat was all the solitude it afforded him. He could socialize if he was inclined, or he could just keep out of reach. Humans loved a little black cat, but he never let himself get too close. He never had friends. Not before he turned into a cat, not while he was a cat, and not in the nearly two years since he turned back into a human. The faculty encouraged him to see a therapist, and that had been surprisingly helpful. He was trying to let go of his fears. He didn't need to be afraid anymore. He could, maybe, make friends for once. He ate the last of his fish sticks and took a deep breath. Then, he reached behind him and untied the string he used to keep his ponytail up. He shook his head and let his hair fall to his shoulders. He liked having long hair, even though it got him looks. Let people look, he thought, standing up. He stretched, and looked over what he could see of the campus. He was going to try new things, he thought, meet people, make friends. Then, he jumped off the roof.