Thunder King

With that resolved, Mali eagerly lead the group to the gym area, specifically her favorite spot; the weight room. "That machine over there works your abs... She said, pointing to a machine that surely looked strange and confusing to Tona. "Those are great for working the shoulders..." "Oh, this one's my favorite..." She said, walking, not to a machine, but a set of large discs and metal bars. "Free weights, just add the discs you want that add up to the weight you want to lift, and go." She reached over and grabbed one of the bars. With practiced ease, she picked up several of the discs and attached them. Anyone who was paying attention or knew how those added up could tell that Mali just strapped nine hundred pounds of weight to it. She grabbed a weight lifting belt from her bag. "These are essential, do not do what I'm about to do without one. You can really hurt yourself." She said, more for Tona's benefit than anyone else. With that, she dropped down and picked up the weights, straining a little, but not nearly enough considering the sheer weight she had added. She then performed four simple reps. With that done, she dropped the weights, straightened back up, and said. "That's how that one's done...though you may want to start with smaller weights, get a feel for what you can do, and...

Teleporting above the pair from the ground, blasting one of the minions taking ten for a 20 on the attack, (DC 25 TOU save) If he fails, as soon as Stormbreaker takes care of the other guy; 35 to hack the computer to determine where the device was going to take them

24 on a knowledge technology to check for what the device attached to Voltage does

Voltage rolled his eyes at the 'scrawny' comment, but agreed that it was a good plan. So, without further ado, he stumbled around a bit and finally dropped to the floor, closing his eyes. He slowed his breathing down, as if he were asleep. He hoped that his captor wouldn't expect them to be dead. He regretted not having the means or materials to develop something to determine the nature of the gas. Either way, he was still alert, still fully awake, and paying attention to his surroundings. Even if his 'captor' expected him to be dead, he could teleport away the moment he looked like a threat.

GM "The park sounds good, I know just the one..." Jennings said, pulling out a small piece of paper and writing something down. The other man nodded "Okay, meet you there in two hours?" "If my friend here doesn't object, that sounds good." Jennings said with a nod. The man walked back to the table and he and his friends began talking in hushed tones. It was obvious that they were talking about Jennings and Lockwood, probably discussing the meeting. They all looked scared, and very nervous. Worried about what would happen next... Two Hours Later The five individuals were all nervously huddled together. The one who had approached Lockwood spoke up first. "See, we're all people from local businesses. We all met at the diner about two years ago, and we just started going there regularly, becoming friends and whatnot. Well, it wasn't long before we began to give each other stock and investment advice. Nothing illegal, but you know, helping out friends. Well, one of the guys who...well...he came to us talking about some very high quality imported goods. Again, all legal. It was some electronics and mechanical components, rare stuff, really high tech. he said the guy was trying to get some of the local tech companies to manufacture the parts. Well, we got a tech guy to look at the schematics, and he seemed really excited. Well, this guy apparently needed a way to ship the prototypes here and store them, and had no idea how to do that. So we got together, pooled our money, and helped the guy rent a space. We had a contract and everything, it was all honest and legal. We even got paid really well. Then the guy started acting weird, asking how much we knew was going on. We didn't know anything but...that's when John disappeared. And then recently, Frank was found dead. We think that guy tricked us into importing something illegal and dangerous, and is trying to get rid of us."

Voltage: 16 posts A funny thing happened on the way to the office 5 posts Vanguard 3 posts Killer Frequency 1 post Pepper's Ghost 6 posts Vignette Crimson Tiger An Arrow In The Air 8 posts Eight Thousand MIles From Home Vignette Wiki Article GM Lord Steam and the Clockwork Assassins 5 posts Other Martial Arts Guide All GM posts go to Crimson Tiger, please. If the Martial Arts Guide has earned me a PP, give that to her as well.

Voltage: 16 posts A funny thing happened on the way to the office 5 posts Vanguard 3 posts Killer Frequency 1 post Pepper's Ghost 6 posts Vignette Crimson Tiger An Arrow In The Air 8 posts Eight Thousand MIles From Home Vignette Wiki Article GM Lord Steam and the Clockwork Assassins 5 posts Other Martial Arts Guide All GM posts go to Crimson Tiger, please. If the Martial Arts Guide has earned me a PP, give that to her as well.

Thirty-Six Seconds July 16th, 9:56 PM Thomas Morgan was sitting in his room, getting ready for bed and thinking about what to do the next day. It had been an ordinary day, he got up, went to work, went patrolling for a few hours, and then came home. He hadn't run across anything unusual, and didn't have any problems. His mind, however, was surfing the internet, checking messages, checking police activity and in general making sure Voltage wouldn't be needed any time soon. It was then that he caught something, a random text. Help me. It said. Kidnapped, docks, waterfront, please. Thomas sat up and immediately began triangulating the signal. It was indeed coming from the waterfront. He wondered briefly if the police were going to be en route, but then he realized that these kinds of situations didn't work out as often or as well as they ought. If this person was in trouble, they may end up hurt or killed soon. The phone was registered to a young Jeanine Smythe, within a few minutes, Voltage deduced who she was and what she might have gotten kidnapped for. Her father, Robert Smythe, was a wealthy business man, though not a public figure. Made sense, kidnapping someone who's father was rich, but not famous. It didn't take very long for him to find where the signal was coming from, a warehouse at the waterfront. Within moments, he arrived there and glanced down. He used his mind to scan for other signals and internet activity. Nothing unusual within the radius of his senses. The signal had cut off, but then again, she'd probably shut off and hid her phone, or it had been destroyed. Either way, there was no time to lose. Voltage teleported down onto the dock, and began to search around, hoping to spot the kidnappers. Even ordinary criminals were dangerous if cornered. Voltage's armored costume would protect him from small arms fire, but the girl wasn't so lucky. He landed right in front of the warehouse and walked inside. This was suspicious, very strange, and unusual. He was afraid they might already have moved her, or killed her. Suddenly, something slammed into him, he couldn't see what. His vision went white for a second as he stumbled back. His eyes opened, and he saw his attacker. The robot's body was smooth and sleek, with a humanoid figure and of human-like size. He scanned it for a moment, and determined a few key facts; it was balanced for great maneuverability, and was designed for hand to hand combat. He wasn't going to give it that chance. He flew backwards and was about to blast it with a bolt of lightning when another attack blindsided him. It struck him on his chest and sent him flying away. An energy blast, probably from some sort of weapon. He made it to his feet and took a step forward. It was strange, his foot had ended up in a puddle of a black, viscous liquid. Oil, perhaps? No, too thick, and this was sticky. He tried to move his leg, and to his horror, the puddle began to laugh. It twisted and changed, crawling up his leg, swirling and moving. He saw what looked like a face, before he was enveloped. The liquid was hot, painfully so, and as it moved, he felt it grab and stick to his arms, pulling them back so he couldn't move. Finally able to think straight, he began to channel energy through his body, trying to send a short-range blast into the strange, liquid entity. All that earned him was another laugh. The liquid was too conductive, the electricity passed harmlessly through it and out of it. He couldn't move his arms, but maybe he could teleport away. Just as he'd concentrated enough to try, he felt something stick to his chest, dig through his armored costume, and attach itself. He tried to teleport, but it didn't work. He tried to fly, and it didn't work. The device had somehow taken away his powers. He struggled vainly, but with his limited strength, there was very little he could do. The strange, viscous liquid let go slightly. He opened his eyes groggily and saw three figures step forward. The first and most obvious was the robot that had struck him, but the other two were another matter. One was an older man, early to mid forties, with straight brown hair and sinister eyes. He stepped forward and chuckled. Voltage swore he heard that voice, seen that man, before. Then, he remembered...this man was someone Voltage was familiar with. Still, he didn't want the doctor to know he remembered him. “Hello, good to see you again.†He shrugged. “You don't seem to remember me, but, I remember you. Young, brash, full of energy and verve. On top of the world, as it were. Ah, well, it's time to dispose of you.†He said. He reached over and cuffed Voltage's hands together. Then, a pair of shackles to bind his feet to something heavy. Moments later, he was in the water. “Do not panic...†he thought as he felt the cool water cover his body. “You panic, you die, simple as that.†He began an immediate assessment of his environment, along with all possible resources. These included, but were not limited to the water, the pier, the cuffs, the shackles, the weight, his own costume, and the device on his chest. He then realized that his hands were cuffed in front, not the back. That was a tremendous aid in his escape. He brought his hands up and felt around his costume. “The breach is significant, damaging the outer shell of the defenses. There still should be some residual current...†he thought to himself. He reached his hands up and began grinding the metal of the cuffs against his costume, hoping to start peeling away at the outer, protective layer. He felt around the device, and found the probe that had been attached to his skin with some sort of glue. That was going to be painful to remove, but not impossible. He began to grind the chain against his skin, hoping to touch the breach. Normally, electricity couldn't hurt him, but if that were also inactive due to the device... He roared in pain as current flowed through his body. He barely managed to keep his mouth shut, screaming through a clenched jaw. That hurt, but he'd managed to rub some of the components bare. The saltwater began leaking into his costume, up against the sensitive components within. He screamed again in pain, forcing his hands up. Using the cuffs and the water as a conductor, he directed the current from the suit directly into the probe designed to suppress his power. The device flickered, and then died. Above, Dr. Green and his two flunkies stared at the water. “Is he dead?†The black, viscous figure asked. “I don't think so. Remember, he can teleport.†He said. The four of them, the doctor, the robot, Andrew Hill, and the viscous figure formed a tight circle. If they were close, they could... Four threats, Voltage thought to himself. Dr. Green was much tougher than a normal human, but had no other superhuman powers. Andrew, however, had been re-purposed into some form of cyborg, now that he had the time to think about it. The black, viscous figure was a woman, had tar-like consistency. Last, but not least, was the robot that Green had constructed, a skilled hand to hand fighter, probably shielded against him. Green was the most dangerous and the least. So long as he had no other gadgets, his own inherent resistance to damage wouldn't do much to slow Voltage down. The tar woman and Andrew were both valid threats. Her strange powers meant that electric current had no effect, and she was likely virtually invulnerable. Andrew, however, was equipped with technology that he had yet had the opportunity to assess. The combat droid was, as always, dangerous, but only if Voltage let it get close. Based on his prior experiences, the robot could neither fly, nor did it have any ranged attacks. Still, upgrades weren't out of the question. Andrew represented the greatest overt threat, and needed to be dealt with first. “I think I heard...†Andrew said, not able to finish his sentence as he felt something slam into him, grabbing him up and throwing him into the river. Andrew's metal body would make swimming difficult, but not impossible, and his built in life support would ensure his survival, if not comfort. “Where is he, Doc?†The figure asked. “Where is he?!†Voltage decided that the tar-woman represented the next greatest threat, with her unusual anatomy and powers. A direct confrontation would be useful, especially if he were prepared to retaliate before she reached him. That was vital, if she got her hands on him again, it would hurt even worse, with his costume damaged as it was. He briefly scanned the internet and found a dossier on her. She could reconstitute herself if destroyed, but it took a great deal of effort. That was good, he had a quick and effective way to get rid of her, a nonlethal way. Voltage suddenly appeared in front of them, floating in mid-air. “I have him.†Said the black figure, whom Voltage could now recognize as a woman. She flew up to him, a tar-like mass threatening to envelop him again. “You seem to be immune to my electrical powers.†Voltage said as she neared. “But you're not immune to blunt force.†She got within a few inches, before a large metal beam slammed into her, causing her form to explode, sending her in a dozen pieces at once. As he expected, she began to recollect herself, but seemed sluggish and tired from doing so. The robot leaped into the air, having seemingly upgraded it's mobility. Voltage anticipated that response and teleported away before it could get close to him. The robot's AI was a simple one, and had redundant copies stored elsewhere. Voltage learned this moments before when he scanned for it's dossier. That meant that Voltage could dismantle the thing without risk of 'killing' it. Sooner or later, Green would rebuild it, if he got the chance. He reappeared moments later, a little farther away. “You seem to be built with a lot of ferrous metals.†He said as the robot neared. It jumped to attack him again. Just before it reached him, two large components flew from it's body, causing it to fall apart. Dismantling the robot was something that strained his powers, but he was capable of doing it. He had to catch his breath, but, hopefully Green would be too scared to retaliate immediately. “Good job.†Green said. Voltage didn't let himself betray his confusion, but the man knew anyway. “You did a good job.†Two metal cables flew out and wrapped themselves around Green, causing him to drop to the ground. He struggled, but didn't seem especially bothered. “You defeated us handily, just as I thought you would.†“What are you talking about.†Voltage said, turning to the crazed scientist. “I've been watching your progress. You're one of the smartest people in the world, do you know that? Your mind has granted you unlimited potential. Your powers are finely crafted tools, yet you wield them like blunt instruments. You are more than what you show yourself to be. You can analyze and assess threats with frightening speed, yet you blundered in here half blind. We ambushed you and nearly killed you. If you used that mind of yours, we should have lost the fist time.†“Your praise and critique mean nothing, especially since you tried to kill me.†“I tried to wake you up! I tried to make you realize how much smarter you are than that! Why do you think I cuffed your hands in front of you? You were meant to escape! Are you seriously that dense? Your analytical abilities are second to none, but you have the common sense of a doorstop.†“Why do you care? Why stage a fake kidnapping, why threaten my life? Why?†“Because, Voltage, I made you. I don't know who it was, but one of my subjects gave birth to you, or fathered you. It could have been any one of a thousand researchers, or even one of the cleaning staff. The genetic modifications I made to your parent have clearly paid off in you. I couldn't be prouder.†“You're insane.†“Perhaps, or am I the only man with vision? These 'superpowers' are divine in nature! It is mankind's destiny to break it's bonds and transform into gods! You could be changing the world, and yet you fight petty crime!†“And I should join you? Work to give people powers?†“Yes, you should. Those who cannot adapt must die, those who adapt will become gods. Humanity will experience a glorious transformation. One day, you will no longer be special, boy. You will be one of a legion of people with powers. When that day comes, humanity will have a bright future. No more evil, no more war, no...†“No, bad people get powers all the time. If everyone got powers, criminals and psychopaths would have even more power to wreak havoc. Maybe you're right. Maybe one day, humanity will all have super powers. But that day has to come on it's own, because we're not ready. We're not ready as a species, for that kind of power. If we got it artificially, we'd just destroy ourselves.†“Is that what you really believe, Voltage?†Green asked. “Or are you just afraid of not being special anymore?†With that, the police arrived and arrested the criminals. Voltage thought long and hard about what Green had to say. He was right about one thing, though. He had to fight smarter than he was, he had to make himself a better hero than he was. Otherwise, it might get him killed.

Crimson Tiger Crucible July 13th, 2012 “I'm going after him.†Mali said, her voice laced with anger. “No, you mustn't, let the police take care of it.†Apsari said to her daughter. “He put dad in the hospital! He's going to be gone back to Thailand before the cops catch up with him!†“Mali...Mali!†She shouted, but it was too late. Mali had run downstairs, thrown her costume on, and sped out the door on the Tigercycle. Apsari just shook her head, and reached for the phone. Mali focused as she sped along, she knew where he'd be. There was a warehouse that had a lot of imported goods from his company. She now had reason to suspect that he had been moving opium into the country for several months, even years. She had stopped a heroin shipment by pure luck a few weeks ago, and had noticed that it had been shipped inside imported Thai goods. She hadn't thought of it much until she made the connection. Anuman's anger at her, his sudden arrival in the states. How he seemed to have way more money than he really should. Of course, if he wasn't there, her hunch would be wrong. The warehouse had been a trap. Twenty men, armed with knives, clubs and other weapons waited for her. She dispatched them, but the effort was exhausting. She'd managed to get one of them to talk, though, though threats weren't her usual shtick. Having watched her her beat down an entire crowd of armed, grown men convinced him that she could hurt him. His real location wasn't that far away, a nearby building. She'd climbed up the side. She was already tired, and she hadn't even gotten to Anuman himself yet. There he was, standing on the roof of the building. The light was too far gone, but she could tell the man had a smug, self-satisfied look on his face. “Good to see you, cousin. I thought you wouldn't make it.†“Shut your face!†She roared. “Or I'll shut it for you!†The only response her threat earned was laughter. A cruel, mocking laugh. “You're hurt, tired....†He chuckled. “I've already broken you, you just haven't fallen down yet.†“We'll see...cousin.†She spat that last word out. Her mind reeled back to a little less than a month before. She'd met her cousin in Thailand during a trip there. They had been friendly, even going out to one of the best restaurants in Thailand. Later that night, though, she helped him dispatch a few thugs who had thought to jump them. His shift in attitude had been immediate. The next day, he challenged her to a 'spar', and nearly beat her. If not for her father's intervention, she had no idea what he would have done to her. They left Thailand shortly thereafter. For the next couple of weeks, life had been normal in the Benjawan family. Then, one day, she heard the news. Anuman was visiting America. She had hoped they'd put the matter behind them, and it seemed that Anuman indeed had. Earlier in the day, though, he had apparently gone to their house looking for her. Annan had not been forthcoming, and tried to get Anuman to leave. A fight ensued, and Anuman beat her father badly. Annan had still yet to regain consciousness. She glared at him and raised her hands. Her leg raised slightly, her foot poised, the muay thai fighting stance. “Oh, so, now you're ready to fight? Now that I've beaten your weak, pathetic father to death?†“He's alive...†She said, dashing towards him. She brought her right arm forward, starting the fight with a fierce right cross. He deflected the blow and brought an elbow down to her arm. Her shoulder popped and she half-screamed, half roared in pain. “Is he? Still?†Anuman said, losing his grip as she pulled away. “Even if he lives, he'll be a half-man. A cripple.†He kicked at her legs, but she jumped back and went for a snap kick to the side of the head. He dodged effortlessly and chuckled. “You're not bad, girl.†He grabbed her ankle and moved to strike her knee, but she dropped into a handstand and kicked him in the stomach. He grunted in pain and released her leg. Taking advantage of his momentary disorientation, she jumped up and grabbed his head firmly between her forearms. She brought her right knee up to his face with the power and impact of a shotgun. He roared in pain as the bridge of his nose broke. She reached behind his head with her good arm and grabbed a handful of his hair. Her head met his and he staggered back. She dodged back and grimaced, instinctively reaching down with her arm and feeling the impact in her sore shoulder. That moment was long enough for Anuman to stand. Blood was coming from his broken nose, but he didn't seem especially worse for wear. She dodged backward away from his first strike, hoping to get enough space to initiate the offense. He didn't let her, choosing instead to jump forward with a fierce knee to her midsection. She gasped in pain as she felt all of the air in her lungs burst out. She tried to catch her breath as he reached down and grabbed her by the hair. “Pathetic little girl, trying her best to be a superhero. Isn't working out, is it?†He said. “First your father, then you, and then your mother. Then I'm on a plane for Thailand.†“You're just pissed that I stopped your heroin shipment...†She choked out, hoping to get him to admit it. “Do you have any idea how much money you cost me?†He growled, too distracted to see what happened next. Mali brought her foot up and kicked him right in the stomach. He bent forward but didn't let go. The moment her feet found solid ground, she brought both knees into the air and to his bloody nose, again. He roared and she twisted herself, jumping out of his grip, leaving a clump of her hair in his hand. “Don't know why I didn't do this before.†He said, reaching behind him. He had a gun. Her whole world froze for a split second as she watched him, he was going to shoot her. But she was far too close, and he didn't have enough time. Mali would spend the rest of her life questioning her next choice. Whether it was right, or wrong. At the moment, though, she only thought of one thing; this man, her cousin, intended to kill her. She couldn't let him do that. She lunged forward and brought her right leg down on his left knee. He screamed as it popped out of place, sending him straight to the ground. She ran up and kicked his hand so hard the gun spiraled away. She may have even broken it, but she didn't think of it at the moment. She dropped on top of him in a moment. He tried to pull himself up, but she put her hand on his throat and slammed him back down, her fist ready to punch him. “What, cousin, are you going to kill me.†You were going to kill me!†She screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was shaking, she was crying. This man had hurt, maybe even killed her father, and tried to do the same to her. She couldn't let him live after that, could she? She thought of her father, her mother, and her great uncle Somchai, of the school, of her friends. Last, she thought of her prayers, her faith. Life was sacred, all life. Even the lives of vicious, evil people like Anuman. “Ei sut, I'm not going to take a life...not even yours.†She was still shaking, but she kept her fist raised, ready to retaliate the moment he tried to strike. Then she heard the sirens, the yelling. She was dimly aware as the police circled around them, as one of the cops pulled her from him. She gave no resistance, having been numbed to what was going on. She felt arms around her, a police officer's arms, not to arrest, not to hurt, but to offer comfort to a scared superhero.. She collapsed into her mother and began sobbing. The police officers tried to drag Anuman to his feet, but it was clear his knee was too far damaged to support any weight. They brought a stretcher up to the roof and strapped him in. “He's very dangerous...†One of the officers said to the EMTs. “Keep him restrained at all times, and we're keeping an officer with him at all times.†he turned to Mali, who sat there looking less like a superhero, and more like a scared sixteen year old girl. “Officer I...†“Crimson Tiger?†He said. “That's your name, right? We did a search of the warehouse off of an anonymous tip. There are several thousand dollars worth of heroin in bags in there. You just busted one of the biggest drug rings in the city. Congratulations.†Mali smiled and thanked the officer, but she felt numb. This hadn't been about stopping Anuman's drug ring. It had been about revenge. Revenge for her father's beating, for terrorizing her family. She stood up and waved the EMTs off, refusing assistance. She claimed she was unhurt, but that was untrue. She also said that she was glad she'd finally stopped the drug ring, but that wasn't true either. In truth, she was only glad to have stopped him from hurting anyone else. She walked downstairs, hopped on the Tigercycle, and rode home.

"Nooo thanks..." Mali said. "Climbing's not really my strong suit..." She chuckled and didn't mention how she didn't want to strain a muscle before going to her favorite spot, the gym. She fully intended to be the one to give the new girl a proper tour of the facilities. After all, she'd used nearly every machine in there, and had been training for years.

She felt a pair of strong, but gentle hands reach for her, helping her to her feet. Her mother smiled, happy to see her daughter was okay. She glanced over and saw her father standing there, hands raised. His foot delicately perched, his knee in the air. Her parents had apparently just arrived, and neither she nor Anuman had seen them. "What the hell are you doing?!" Mali had never seen her father this angry before. "We were sparring." Anuman said, crossing his arms. "You were about to hit her when she was down! Apsari, we're leaving." Mali waved her mother off with a reassuring smile. She was getting her bearings back. "Little girl needs her daddy to save her, huh?" Anuman said. "ANUMAN BENJAWAN!" Came a bellowing voice. They all turned to see Somchai standing there, clearly enraged."This is not how we treat guests." "Stop treating me like a child, grand..." "I treat you like I see you!" Somchai growled. "Annan, Apsari, Mali, I am so sorry for my grandson's stupidity. Please, I'm so sorry." "It's okay, Uncle Somchai..." Annan said, relaxing his body. "Still, we're leaving for home tomorrow." Somchai nodded, still said. He walked down off of the porch and towards Mali. "Are you okay?" He asked the scared, bewildered sixteen year old. "Y-yeah..." She'd fought superhuman foes before, but there was something...personal in it for Anuman. She was angry at herself for her weakness. The old man pulled her in for a hug, and whispered into her ear. "That was the best I've seen Anuman give in quite a while. Maybe he'll cool down in a few days and realize how stupid it was to attack you." Mali nodded and managed a small smile as she headed for the taxi. Within a week, she was back home. Still, Anuman cast a shadow over her for a while. She still didn't know what made him snap like that. She honestly hoped never to find out, either.

Finally, on the second to last day she was there, she arrived at their house to find Anuman standing there. Her parents were out to eat that afternoon, and she had taken a taxi to the house. He was dressed in a pair of fighting trunks, with his arms and feet wrapped. He had his arms crossed. "Dressed for a fight?" She asked. "Come,I want to test the extent of your training." "No thank you..." She said. "What do you mean?" Anuman said, his voice a low growl. "I want to see how well your father trained you. Spar with me." "No thank you." She said, smiling. "Come on, it's just a little fun, why not?" She didn't want to embarass her cousin,for one. She was a superhero, and she shouldn't be showing off,for two. "I just don't want to." She said, trying to walk past him. His fist whipped past her head, and she barely dodged. "Whoa!" She said,backing away from him. "Come on." He said, raising his fists. She shook her head, and he lunged again, this time, nearly hitting her with a snap kick to the side. "Hey!" She said. That was it, the last straw. He wasn't going to stop until he got his fight. She was going to give it to him. He didn't seem to notice her change of mind, because he lunged again, this time, with another punch. She deflected the punch with relative ease and delivered a fierce kick to his side. He tried for a kick, but she ducked beneath it, and delivered a vicious punch to the stomach. He gasped for breath. "Not bad." He said. She didn't see the strike coming, his hand slammed into her abdomen, sending her stumbling back. "What's wrong, cousin?" He asked. Through blurry vision, she saw his face. Outwardly, it was the same calm, passionless look he had always maintained. His eyes, however, were pure malice. He reared back, ready to strike again. Mali stared upwards, the blow to the stomach still too disorienting to let her defend herself. Suddenly, a blur passed by her, sending Anuman away. She looked over to see Anuman rolling on the ground.

As he finished the sentence, a young man, somewhere between 18 and 25 years old, entered the room. "Hello, Mali." He gave a smile and nodded. "Thank you for attending to my Grandfather and keeping him company. My name is Anuman, nice to meet you." He said in good, but somewhat rough English. "Anuman." Somchai said with a chuckle. "Her Thai is better than your English." "Oh." He said. "Sorry, I didn't know what to expect. How's my English?" He asked her. "Very good." She said, and that was that. "I would like to take you to a local restaurant, cousin." He said. "Best place in Bangkok, my treat." "Okay, let me call my parents, first, okay?" "I understand." Anuman said. Later that night, after permission, the two of them found themselves at Bo.Lan, one of the finest restaurants in Bangkok. "This is all so expensive." She mumbled to herself. Still, Anuman didn't seem to care. She imagined that he had saved up a bit to afford it. Perhaps he had heard about their visit and intended to take her here as part of 'showing off' Thailand. Either way, she wasn't going to complain. About an hour later, the two of them were walking to his car when four men stepped out of the shadows. "Pretty date you have there..." One of them said offhandedly, drawing a knife. "You don't want to do this." Anuman said. Mali froze. If Anuman didn't know how to fight, she'd be forced to defend herself. She didn't know how her cousin would take that. "What do you mean?" One of the men said. "You look rich, give us some money." One of the men lunged at Anuman. Anuman jumped back out of the way of the knife and delivered a fierce snap kick to the side of the man's head, sending him sprawling to the ground. Mali was grateful that her cousin didn't need her help, but only for a second. Five more men came out from the shadows and lunged at her. She apologized to her father under her breath, and went to work. The first man met a kick to the side of the head. The second got a knee to the midsection. The third recieved an uppercut to the chin and kicked into the fourth man, while the fifth got a swift kick to the back of the legs, sending him sprawling. Anuman turned and stared at his cousin. Mali smiled nervously, waving. "I see your father has trained you well." He managed. Mali nodded. "He wanted to make sure I could handle myself if I got attacked or something..." "Good." Anuman said, walking towards the car. For the rest of the night, Anuman was stand-offish and strange. Something about the way Mali handled the attackers seemed to upset him.

And Mali was good to her word. When they visited the family later that day, she was all smiles and politeness. She was respectful and kept her opinions to herself. Not just as a woman, but as a teenager. Her great uncle, Somchai, instantly took a liking to her. After a week of steady visits, he had asked to speak to her. "You wanted to speak to me?" She said in Thai. "Yes, yes, come on in, sit down child." He said with a smile, waving over to the seat in front of him. Respectfully, she did as she was asked, though she was confused. "I know they do things differently in America." He said with a smile. "I want to thank you for being such a good sport." "I'm sorry, what?" She asked, confused. He smiled and laughed. "American girls are so spirited. America is a land of equals, yes? That is not how it is here." She didn't have anything to say to that. She merely nodded. Nothing she could say would sound like anything less than disrespect of Thailand or her host. 'Anyway, you've been very respectful, trying to honor your host. You look like a Thai girl, but we both know you're not as comfortable here as in America, are you?" She shook her head. "In America, things are so different. I've been told all about Thailand my whole life, but it's not the same." "You know of the Black Tiger, yes?" Mali nodded. "The Black Tiger was my father, you know that, right?" Mali's eyes opened wide. "Well, he always taught me that one day, Thailand will be more like America. Everyone will have an equal opportunity. Everyone will have an equal say. That is why he was not mad at your grandfather for moving there." "That's...wow." She didn't know what else to say. "Anyway, I wanted you to know that I appreciate you being so nice and sweet to an old man like me. It does my heart good to know that our family is prospering in America. You are welcome in my home, Mali, and you do your family proud. My father would be happy to know that his great grand-daughter grew up to be such a strong girl." He gave a quick wink. It was then that she realized it. He knew, somehow, he knew. Had he been paying attention? How did he find out. However, no less authority than the son of the Black Tiger himself had said so. She smiled, not the sweet, kind smile of a Thai girl, but the energetic beam she normally had. Somchai grinned. "With that said, I want you to meet someone. He's your cousin, my grandson. Anuman is a minor businessman in Thailand, a real prodigy. Graduated from Chulalongkorn University at 18. He does good work. His father and mother, well, I raised him when he was a boy, so he is like a son to me."

June 17-24 Mali Benjawan stepped out of the Suvarnabhumi Airport, along with her father and mother. "Wow..." She said, staring out at the city of Bangkok. It was her homeland, it was part of Thailand. "Remember your first visit, honey?" Her father, Annan said, turning to her mother. "Yes, I had the same reaction." Apsari said with a smile. Mali looked out into the city with a smile. She'd seen pictures, she'd heard stories, but this was like a living history. Annan spotted the car intended to take them to their destination. "Good, here we are. Let's head to the hotel first, then we can go visit family. I need to unwind for a bit anyway." Mali nodded, though her energy and excitement were still fresh, even she was feeling jet lag. About a half hour later, they had unpacked their things and were living it up in the Prince Palace hotel. Mali was stretched out on a bed and trying to make sense of Thailand tv. "I understand what they're saying..." She mumbled to herself. "Doesn't mean I understand what's going on." "Mali?" Her father said. "I see you're settled in well." He looked at his daughter, remote in hand and laying down on the bed. "Yeah, this place is great." "I wanted to talk to you about something." She nodded and watched as her father sat on the bed next to her. He sighed, tried to think of something to say, and sighed again. "Mali, I love you, and I am very happy that you are such a strong, confident young woman." Mali nodded slowly, confused."It's just that...well, in Thailand, sometimes things are done differently. Women have..." "Dad..." Mali interrupted. "I get it, it's not like the States. Some people here think women should have a lower status." "Eactly. With that in mind, please, don't fight. I'm not saying you couldn't take some of those guys. I'm not saying that you're in any danger. It's just that, if you beat up someone here, well, they may not take being beaten by a girl very well..." "So play the good girl, hide my muscles, and act like a sweet Thai girl, not a headstrong American girl." "Exactly. I am sorry to ask this of you, but a girl who's as good of a fighter as you could get some unwanted attention." Mali nodded slowly. It made sense. She could take one, or even a dozen, but she might end up with more challengers than she wanted. Aggressive, pig-headed men who wanted to be known as the one who taught the American girl 'her place'. That wasn't the kind of attention she wanted for her family. "I understand, Dad." She said with a smile. "Don't want to make myself a target and all that." "Exactly."

Got a 12

"Well, you don't always know someone who knows what you need to figure out." Mali said. "I mean, yeah, it's better, and easier just to ask someone, but that's not always an option. And, well, unless you have perfect memory, you need to take notes when asking long, important questions anyway, otherwise you might forget important details. Trust me, when you start taking more complex classes, this place is going to be your favorite place in the world when you need to do research." "But, there's no research to do today!" She said with a mischievous grin. "I think it's time we checked out the gym. I don't know about you guys, but even though I don't always use the fancier equipment, it's useful if you need to target a specific area. My home gym isn't quite as fancy as the one they have here, but I prefer working out there anyway."

GM "Look, um, I don't know who you are, or what you're talking about." Jennings looked up and subtly flashed his badge. "Oh, so, you guys are cops?" "I am, he's working with us on this." Jennings said. The man looked a bit relieved. "Okay, um, I'll talk to my friends, and can we meet somewhere a bit more, um, private? Discreet? We'll tell you everything, I promise. Just not here, please." It was then that the others noticed he was talking to Lord Steam. They all whispered to one another in hushed tones, obviously afraid and worried.

Fighting Styles Some fighting styles are fairly common, while others are only known by a handful of people. You can take karate lessons in dozens of places in many metropolitan areas, but finding someone willing to teach you Five Animals Kung Fu can be a bit more difficult. Of course, that can be part of the point. Maybe your character's actual training is limited to self-defense classes taught at the local YMCA or YWCA, or maybe your character sought out a legendary master. Maybe he or she has a history, former Golden Gloves champion or contender, perhaps? Of course, the rarity of your fighting style has no bearing whatsoever in game terms. If you want your character to know a rare style, he or she knows a rare style. That's how the game works. But, if you want to explain where that style came from, how he or she learned it. It can help if you know the difference between a style that the hero can learn easily within the city and a style that is only taught in another country or to very few people. The fighting styles will be listed with a Rarity rating. Common means that finding instructors within Freedom City (or any large city in the country) is easy. Uncommon means that it takes a bit of work to find an instructor. Rare means that it's hard to find an instructor within Freedom City, or another large city, and Esoteric means that finding an instructor would be difficult, and may require travel to another country to learn. Aikido Origin: Japan Rarity: Uncommon Aikido is all about throws, generally on the defensive. Aikido masters can twist virtually any attack into a throw, defending themselves without causing undo harm to their attackers unless it becomes necessary. A practitioner of aikido is called an aikidoka. Once a target is down, an aikidoka will often force them into a submission with a quick move, ending the fight. For feat choice in aikido, it is necessary to have improved grapple, though improved grab is also a good idea. Grappling finesse is also ideal, because an aikidoka need not be especially strong to work with the style. Improved trip is also a good idea, because an aikidoka will often throw his opponents to the ground so quickly that they hardly had them in a grapple at all. An aikidoka may also want defensive attack, because they seldom start a fight first. In fact, virtually all grappling feats are applicable to aikido. When writing aikido, remember that it is a flowing style. It uses momentum and elegant turns and twists to move opponents without using brute force. It emphasizes using an opponent's own momentum against them. Remember that an aikidoka can look like they are barely moving or using effort, and still perform devastating and painful throws. Boxing Origin: Unknown, but current rules developed in the UK Rarity: Common Boxing is almost universal, and in a city like Freedom City, finding a tutor would be easy. Boxing uses only the fists, and nothing else, both grapples and kicks are banned. Boxers use quick footwork to move about, and sway at the hips to dodge attacks. The emphasis in boxing is in outmaneuvering your foe and then landing the strongest blows you can muster. For boxing, feat choice is often dependent on the kind of boxer the individual is. Some are like Mike Tyson, using overwhelming brute force. Other characters would perhaps be more like Muhammad Ali, using expert footwork and dodging to manipulate foes into leaving an opening. Boxers can make use of virtually every combat feat, except those that specifically involve grapples. When writing boxing, remember that dodging usually happens at the hips. Emphasize the strength and power of the blows over fancier techniques. Remember that a melee attack need not be one attack, a boxer can, for example, unleash a short combo even though the rules list it as one attack. As long as the damage does not go over caps, it doesn't matter how you describe the attack. You could describe power attack as a devastating haymaker, or, a quick, brutal combo of blows that is wild and uncontrolled. Boxers also make use of cross blows, uppercuts, jabs, and haymakers. They strike exclusively at the upper body in competition, but a superhero isn't necessarily limited to those areas. Capoeira Origin: Brazil Rarity: Uncommon Capoeira is a martial art with a very distinct visual style. The user looks as though he or she is dancing, flowing from one attack to the next, using kicks, punches and wide movements. It features flips and acrobatic stunts. A practitioner of capoeira is called a capoeirista. For feats and skills, it is a good idea to put ranks in acrobatics, or even perform: dance, though perform: dance isn't necessary, and is only for fluff purposes. Acrobatic bluff is a good feat choice, as is all-out attack. You may also want to grab instant up and prone fighting, due to the fact that a capoierista's constant movements mean that they can easily stand up, and can fight while laying down as easily as they can while standing. As another aspect of constantly moving move by action can also represent the constant movement of a capoierista.Elusive target isn't a bad idea either, because with all that moving around, your hero is likely to be hard to hit in a crowd. Takedown attack is a very logical choice, because to the sheer amount of movement the style requires enables the user to strike multiple foes with ease. When writing capoiera, know that capoeiristas use a form of movement called 'ginga'. It involves constantly swinging one's arms back and forth in order to never stop moving. They use wide, sweeping blows and throw their limbs with a lot of momentum. They also twist and move, doing handstands, flips and other acrobatic moves. In fact, a capoeirista may resemble a breakdancer in motion due to the wild and unusual motions. Eskrima Origin: Phillipines Rarity: Uncommon Eskrima (also known as arnis or kali) is a fighting style that has several varieties, the most commonly known of which involves two short sticks ranging in length from a little under to a little over two feet in length. Eskrima can also involve knives, staves, canes or open hand fighting. The weapons are also mixed and matched occasionally as well. A practitioner of eskrima is called an eskrimador, unless they call it arnis, in which the word is arnisador, or kali, in which the word is either kalista or mangangali. Different islands and organizations call the style different things, but it's all the same basic style.. Eskrima's two stick form involves using them to block and deflect blows, strike vulnerable spots on the body, and attack with ferocity. The open hand variety uses many of the same techniques, only without weapons. In terms of feats, accurate attack is a natural choice, sacrificing raw power for precision. Improved disarm is also a good idea, as disarming a foe is an important aspect of the style. Stunning attack is also useful, as a quick, sharp blow to the head is a common tactic. Quick draw, while not a necessary feat for the style, is helpful in ensuring that the sticks are easily available when needed. When writing eskrima, it is important not to forget that both sticks are used in combat together. Feel free to throw in a few stick-twirls and spins, as learning to do that is part of the style. As with boxing, it is perfectly viable to describe multiple strikes for one attack. In fact, because eskrima is more about speed and precision than brute force, it's a good idea to do so frequently anyway. Though is a mobile style, most blows are deflected, parried or outright blocked instead of dodged. The sticks can be used individually or together. For example, a disarm may involve using one stick as leverage while using the other to twist the weapon out of the enemy's hands. Or, it could involve twirling one stick around a weapon and moving it into a position where the enemy simply cannot hold onto it any more. The sticks can be used in tandem, individually, or as part of a combination that involves using one, then the other in quick succession.

Martial Arts Guide Martial arts have existed for thousands of years, in various forms. Technically, any combat form that requires training and learning can be considered a martial art. This guide exists to help Freedom City players add a little extra history, depth and fun to their characters. Though, this guide is intended to be used as a toolbox. Use whichever parts of it suit your needs, and ignore the parts that you don't feel like using. I've done it this way to help as many people as possible with the guide, not to create a series of hoops a character needs go through. There are many ways that choosing a martial arts style or styles can help your character. I will discuss many of these, discuss a variety of styles, and offer tips and ideas on how to write hand-to-hand combat. In addition, I will also discuss how to implement these styles in terms of skill and feat choices. Also, I intend to continually grow this thread over time, so if a style or issue is not covered, feel free to PM me with a request, and I will definitely keep it in mind for further updates. Table of Contents History and Other Fluff Martial arts have a rich, varied history. Nations and cultures from all over the world have created and developed a diverse tapestry of forms, styles and disciplines. From Brazil's Capoeira to China's Kung Fu. This can open up all sorts of back story potential. Who taught them? What did they learn? Where did they learn it from? Did your character wander East Asia to learn from the best, or did he or she sign up for karate classes in the dojo down the street? Of course, you don't have to specify where every element of your hero's combat abilities come from, but there is something to add if you want it. Many fighting styles come with a philosophy. A mindset that is taught along with the techniques. How does this affect your character? Does your character take the training and discard the philosophy? Does it define your character? Why did you character choose that style? What does the chosen style say about your character? Many styles of combat have their own subcultures, groups of practitioners and disciples that share a common history and/or philosophy. How does your character interact with them? Does he or she have rivals? Can your character potentially teach others in his or her chosen styles? On a more practical side, there's also writing. If your character uses hand-to-hand combat, you may find yourself struggling to describe exactly what he or she does, or struggle to avoid falling into the same, repetitive motions. Having a specific style (and knowing how that style is performed) can help you develop a more interesting fighting style than simple punches or kicks.

"I couldn't imagine being part of all that, I mean, it's crazy." He added hastily. "I get why all of that is necessary of course. I've seen some of the things bad people do when there's nobody around to stop them" He was grateful that elevator rides were so short. He honestly wasn't sure how long he could keep up the charade. It was already getting difficult to pretend he had no way to relate to her. He wondered if any of the other heroes ever had to do this. Ah, well, it was worth getting to know someone who had similar interests. Even if he couldn't relate everything back.

Knowledge technology,, got a 27

Voltage looked over at his newfound ally and shrugged. The guy was probably going to try again at a later date. Still, jumping through an unknown portal was a bad idea. "I'm going in." He said, nodding to her. "If you follow, we should watch out for a potential ambush. Don't want to get attacked as soon as we arrive." He took a moment to glance around, making absolutely sure the situation on that side of the portal was taken care of, before diving through the portal to the other side. He was worried, but he figured he was smart enough to figure out what to do from there.

Voltage's eyes narrowed. This was not good, this was far from good. He didn't know what this thing was, but it had taken over the body of someone, and it didn't seem nice. "I don't know who you are." He said, walking over to the ambulance. "But I have no intention of letting you hurt anyone, if that's your plan." He readied himself, his mind going over all the various ways he could approach the situation offensively. Thousands of minor calculations surged through his mind, thoughts on trajectory, how much electricity the human body can take, paralysis, stuns, blinding the target. How to avoid hurting Ace while dealing with the thing inside him. Of course, with a mind like Voltage's, all of those thoughts took place in less than a second.

"Regardless of the method, by accident or design, life is life." Voltage said, coldly gazing at Chimera. "Don't worry, D-Gray, we will protect you, and we will make sure she can't hurt you. We know you're not an 'it'." He said, trying to calm D-Gray down. "I assume we're going to try to isolate the problematic code and eradicate it? While leaving D-Gray intact?" He asked, turning to Miss A. "Either way, we need to make sure Chimera and D-Gray stay isolated. I'm not an expert on A.I., but I'm willing to bet there's a way to do what needs to be done." He scratched his chin. It was hard to believe that this man's entire personality suddenly...evolved, like that. Some outside factor was likely responsible, some form of interference, perhaps? More study was needed, either way.