A New Chance

[Glawackus]

Andrew/Vox Populi

"Do we have any sort of regulatory body being set up for this sort of thing? I believe that the....gentleman...at the press conference the other day suggested some kind of coalition. Another thought I had about all these people: have we explored some kind of government-sponsored..."team"? Employing these people for law enforcement...the "forces of good", so to speak?"

[Raven T.]

Alex

Alex forces the bills back into her palm and closes it tightly. "This isn't charity; this is payment for services rendered. As far as this asset acquisition is concerned, dillegent search of the internet should turn something up after a while. I do not need to keep you looking for something you may not find. All I ask is that you keep your ears open. If you hear about something that might prove useful, pass it on. If I haven't heard about it, I will pay you well according to the quality and usefulness of it.

"Remember, this isn't me asking as a favor between friends; this is me offering you a little work on the side. You need put no special effort into it, but I know you. You have a knack for getting places you probably shouldn't, though accident or design. Again, thank you for this; even if it doesn't seem like much, you have found some potentially valuable information. I doubt many people know how volatile this chemical was." He returns to his thoughts again...

So, we have a chemical that is unstable at 20C and decays rapidly once it hits the air, rendering it inert. What about the air causes the decay; does it oxidize, is it strong enough to break nitrogen bonds and decay that way, or is it one of the myriad of greenhouse gases in modern air...it could even be the ozone. Much testing would need to be done by R&D before anything could be said for certain. WHY was it developed is the next burning question. If this company that spawned it INTENDED to force the next phase of human evolution, they must have known of the consequences. What, did their mothers refuse to give them comic books as children?

Much research will need to be done before we can move on this information. Just because the general populace doesn't know...well, they are likely spilling their guts to the government about everything save the part where they stole the chemical. I could attempt to bring charges against the board for industrial espionage, but concrete proof is needed. Much concrete proof. There would be nothing quite like being laughed out of a courtroom with minimal evidence and losing the opportunity thanks to the modern Double Jeopardy laws...

But we have a meeting soon with..."The Man." What kind of cretin is he, I wonder. Let's hope he intends to speak frankly; I'll be pulling no punches.

[Wiz]

Excerpt from the research journal of Dr. Harold Smith...

The sense came clear when the building exploded, like the proverbial light bulb going off over my head. Someone is running an experiment on us. God, I hope they are running an experiment on us, and not just playing a game! First we have this mutagen. Mutagen, that’s laughable, as if a chemical could truly do what has been done to the mutates of Rainport. No, it was only a chemical in the sense that a nanomachine is often a single molecule. Yet, though it is even more than a decade since the creation of the first nanomachine at Cambridge University, nanotechnology is still in its infancy. Then there is the fire, which is no mere fire, but a carefully prepared stage with multiple stories going on. And we poor players blundered out to fret our time upon it, but all the while there were deep mysteries set out like dishes. What was the gas that killed the family, and what special device did the fire department take in with them. Who is it in the city government that is onto this experiment or game? And the situation itself, played out with either extreme intelligence, or somehow… foreknowledge of what would happen. Foreknowledge, or dare I say it… past knowledge? The nanites could not have come from our time; so our experimenter, our tormentor, our gamester… is from a future time.

[blennus]

“The Man”

He felt a tension within him release as she agreed to his proposal. This first meeting would be key. Once he got one investor interested and committed, that alone could be used as leverage to coax other investors, and by the look of things Ms. Yamashima was a sufficiently successful investor to help him inspire confidence in other potential backers. His mouth turned into a slick smiled as he said “I am glad, that you agree. All that is left of course, is to hammer out the details.” They spent a good half hour discussing the details and the terms and conditions of the investment, but after all was said and done the papers were signed (I won't bore you with tedious details).
They shook hands and he gracefully strode out of the room as Ms. Yamashima started filling the secretary in on the details to print out. That last handshake felt different from the others, his hand seemed to warm slightly, but only just. He felt his confidence surge as he saw his future unfolding before him. A surge of power seemed to flow from within, and he could feel his hair become just a bit silkier, his muscles just a bit more toned, his buttocks a bit more tight. This change was not merely in his mind or even a superficial change. He could feel it right down to the core of his being. Suddenly it dawned on him. All of his powers were defined and powered by his confidence, the very thing that Fauntleroy lacked. The miniscule confidence left within Fauntleroy that was shoved to the back of his subconscious, bloomed with the power of that mutagen into Him. This was what he needed most. However increasing his confidence was not simply a matter of believing more or persuading oneself with a meaningless mantra. No, it was a matter of experience. He needed to get out more and have more opportunities to employ his sexiness and awesomeness. By spreading his awe-inspiring personality, his confidence and power would grow exponentially.

The secretary broke him out of his musings as she handed him an envelope filled with copies of all of the forms he had signed. As she opened her mouth to say something her hand brushed against his hand. As the secretary gave out a gasp, his hand flashed hot.

Summary: Seal the deal. Touch activated (Cause Pleasure) on secretary. Assume "The Man" failed his reflex save (he didn't have a reason for making such a save until now). Will save DC 28. Cost: 4PP

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

Davan searches the streets for a few moments more before getting lucky, and finding a fight already in progress.

Hmm...a pair of thugs, and some guy...are those katanas? Wonder if he's another of us 'superhero' types. Hmm, better get a little closer.

Davan stalks close enough to hear one of the thugs finish saying "...bring you in."

oho, a snatch and grab? Could be fun...besides, they don't look like your average thugs. Whoever this is, he might actually need help...I doubt he'll mind horribly. This should be fun

With that he springs into the fray, saying "Will you be so confident when the odds are even?
Quickly glancing over the two, he adds
"Or stacked against you, it looks like.

Slipping a shuriken between his fingers, he charges it, and throws it at the second thug, hearing the dull thump of an explosion off behind him.

What the hell was that? Oookay. Explosion. Sounds big. Gotta focus on the here and now, plan my next move. I can find out what happened afterwards.

Initiative (1d20+7=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1412076)
Attack roll (1d20+13=23) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1412079)
Charged Damage (4d6=22) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1412085)
Attacking the one that wasn't talking, and designating the one that was for the unbalance opponent.
78/78 pp

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

At the sound of the explosion, the Reaper jumped to the shadows cast by a nearby building and emerged, startling the officer. Ignoring him, he asked, "What was that? It sounded bad. I hope everyone got away safely..." His voice trailed off as he thought of the girl, but he shook his head to clear his thoughts. No matter what happened, he had done what he could, and he couldn't do anything now. He had to clear his name. Thus he turned to the driver of the vehicle. "As you no doubt already know, I am the Reaper. I mean no harm. I trust the vehicle is sufficiently protected against sunlight? Also, for your own safety, don't touch me. Some of my powers are...unstable."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse looks over at the Reaper, "If you wish to use my cloak again, let me know, otherwise we should be on our way. Corporal Green, if you're ready to drive us?"

[PlasticSoldier]

"Meh, alright I guess. Well I'll go tell the guys what's up, see you later." Guard says before waving bye and starting to walk down the hallway.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Whatever super sensitive abilities he possessed snapped into operation and his hands clapped over his ears an instant before the building performed its lengthy and dramatic collapse. A billowing could of dust filled the air, which was itself torn by uncountable screams; the roar of wild, animal panic.

The allusion of the vanishing man was not missed by Dark. It was absurd, of course. And he had today already met a mutant who was only an opera cloak away from claiming to be Count Dracula. But the Vanishing Man - which would serve as a suitable name for the moment - had displayed vast and terrible power.

Worse still, Dark calculated that it had been perhaps 36 hours since the explosion and a little more than a day since the mutants became widely known. Was it possible for any one person to be motivated, to conceive a plan and to execute it in such a short space of time? Yes. But, was it probable? No. An organisation would be needed, a support network. And even then...

Dark was forced to concede that the Vanishing Man must have had prior knowledge of... No, again, prior knowledge was unlikely. Dark himself had something akin to precogniscence and he understood it to be merely the operation of extended thought patterns. It was most likely that the Vanishing Man had been somehow involved, which meant it was a deliberate act... Which meant...

Dark was staggered by the scale of what could only be called a conspiracy. The simple fact was - you could not know or logically surmise what had transpired. You would have to make it happen. You would need to have been able to manipulate people, corporations, the government and the laws of nature.

The thing about dominoes is, before you knock them over, you have to set them up.

But why? If Dark's instinct was correct - he stepped neatly aside as rogue brick soared past his head - then the Vanishing Man planned to destroy most or all of the human race. It was such a massive statement that it couldn't help but seem flippant. A purging, a scourging, a mediocracide! And super abilities, well, either he had directly gifted all those involved - and the chemical explosion was a simple screen - or he had been well aware of the chemical's abilities - having been subject to it himself at an earlier occasion - and had arranged that a random group of people would be affected.

And tested.

And the result of this test would mean what? That they would live, while others died - that all would live - that all would die. A chemical which could produce the aberrations observed was light years ahead of an engineered virus which would wipe out all life on the planet in a matter of weeks. So the purpose was not to kill everyone - killing everyone was actually incredibly easy. Dark could do that by himself with a couple of days planning and some favourable winds. What you'd need to plan for was being selective.

The Vanishing Man had said he was disappointed. Because he had expectations.

What now? That was a more difficult question to answer. More tests perhaps - certainly more violence. More traps for troubadours. What was puzzling Dark was the nature of this game.

And which side was he on, if there were sides in this at all?

These thoughts run through Dark's mind as the rubble settled.

If he had seen further than other men... it was because he was a giant. Damn them all. Damn these heroes. Damn this Vanishing Man.

Dark was on Dark's side.

((Action tomorrow, promise))

[Raven T.]

Alex

We all have a dark side. That part of ourselves that polite society tells us is wrong and possibly immoral. People deny it's existence even when presented with overwhelming proof, usually in the form of a serial killer who has murdered his prey in particularly heinous ways. We don't want to believe that we are the same as them because we're "civilized," that mankind has evolved beyond such acts. However, this barbarism is still very much a part of our blood. The same things that motivated Viking warriors to raid Europe still drive us: a desire for glory, wealth, and power.

We still indulge it, though. Why do you think there are so many movies with explosions, gunfights, and other gratuitous violence? We hide it, but it hasn't gone away.

We are taught, from our youngest days, to behave in a socially responsible manner. Often times, this is a form of peace, love, and harmony left over from the hippies or from Western religion. The problem is this is counterintuitive to our nature as animals. Natural Selection teaches that the strong will survive and the weak should die out to preserve the species. Perhapse this is why these events have been set into motion. Mankind needs an evolutionary punch in the gut to remind it of the "Evolve or Die" rule. Men fear change and that will be their downfall.

But this still doesn't answer the question of where the malice comes from. The darkness within humanity is such that it goes beyond preservation. It leads to total domination and potential chaos. This is why these laws for social niceties are in place; to retain an iota of decorum and order in a world of anarchy. All beings desire power; most pack animals have an Alpha male and/or female. To impose our will on the weak...to crush those who oppose us...that is the desire of all men. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar.


Do you recognize me? Do you fear what I represent? I am that which you loathe the most. I am that part of you who WOULD kill for a new Jaguar or a laptop. I am that part of you who recognizes how easy unseemly acts are to accomplish.

Some call me the Devil. This is a misnomer; every human has the potential for "good" and "evil" within them. There is no outside force acting on you, whispering to do or not do something into your ear. These are lies told by the same people who would have you believe simply saying "I'm sorry" gets you completely off the hook. The world doesn't work that way. Regardless of what comes, you must accept the consequences of your own actions. You can only control yourself in life.

In truth, I am a cosmic balance. For every "good," there must be "evil." For every hippie preaching to love your fellow man, there's a man out shooting cans with an AK-47 in his back yard. Within this vessel? I am here to balance all the superheros who seek to uphold "truth, justice, and the American way." It sickens me.

I will not be denied my prize. This vessel is useful for me; the mutation has opened it's eyes and allowed me to almost become personified. It does keep me in check, and that is good. It balances me in return...tempers me.

[The_Snark]

Judy

Judy finds herself in the awkward position of having a handful of money that she really rather wouldn't have taken. Services rendered... You asked me to help as a friend, Alex. That's why I agreed. She grimaces, too, at Alex's comment about a knack for being where she shouldn't. She did have that, true. And it had gotten her in as much trouble as almost everything else in her life combined. Except maybe that explosion, she thinks, with a mental sigh.

"I'll do that." She falls silent, watching Alex as he drifts off in thought. Eventually, she speaks up again. "So... how have things been going for you, Alex? It seems like we missed getting caught up last night." She didn't want to say that it had felt almost like a business meeting, in retrospect. It made all too much sense. Alex was the type to let his work take over most of his life, and if he did that, he wouldn't have anyone left but business acquaintances and old friends. In some ways, she was in the same boat. Most of her old 'business' acquaintances were people she preferred to avoid... folks like Ronnie and Al weren't bad people, exactly, but it was hard for her to shake the knowledge that they lived off other people when she was around them. They reminded her inescapably of her life, a couple years ago. "It's been years since we last really talked, I think."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu wandered slightly in the aftermath of the explosion. Having helped where he could moving larger pieces of debris, but having no medical or emergency training, he was essentially now useless to the situation.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but each overshadowed by the towering few. What happened? An explosion. Having seen the way the building went down, it was likely from inside as opposed to a missile. Plus no helicopters or planes flying about, or tanks wearing their tread into the concrete. So, why did it happen? The dramatic centre of his brain snatched at a cinema cliche image of a ticking timebomb reached 0:00. Unlikely. There is a much better chance that someone had explosive materials stored away somewhere that got cooked off by the heat. There are certainly enough gun nuts around for someone to pack something 'big'. Or even more mundane, a fuel source could have gone up in flames. There was mention of strange gases before. Perhaps a fuel leak could have led to the main storage igniting. Yeah. That was probably it. Its a good thing it didn't go off earlier, when everyone was inside...

Still numb through lack of purpose, Nosferatu heads back to the truck. Pulse is talking to the guard, and looks like people are ready to go. Slowly, as Nosferatu's mind shifts to the task at hand, his mind returns to normal. Spotting Reaper out in the building shadow, he remarks:

"Hey, good to see you finally got out for some fresh air and sunshi- Fresh air. Probably a good idea to stay low until we are out of public view though."

Turning to Green, he says

"I call gun rack"

before leaping onto the roof of the drivers compartment. After making sure he can get a good fingerhold, he looks to see what the rest of the group are up to.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Thunderous destruction had wrought a day fit only for infamy and despair. All those heroic efforts eclipsed with the perfect simplicity of power; and how could this day be remembered without the claws of that master manipulator wrapped around it. This Plutonian figure now bestroed their world and at his heels, leashed in like hounds, Famine, Fire and Sword crouched for employment.

Dark, perhaps alone amongst all men, knew the nature and intent of this extant doom and what had once seemed like a boon of great ability now appeared as a harbinger of the destruction of the world. Rainport was now the proving ground for all mankind.

Dark had seen enough. Power was one thing - and he yielded the primacy of his ambition and determination to none in its pursuit - but widespread destruction ran counter to his instinct and to his reason. He woud not, on reflection, be such an antagonist, nor could he stand by idle. He had no desire to see civilization brought to its knees.

He drew a card from out of his pocket and considered it. He typed the number into his mobile phone and then wrote a message.

Nosferatu, I need to speak to you. In fact, I need to speak to ALL of you. When? Where? Dark.

If Dark was right about Nosferatu then the gregarious and insistent young hero with the nose for trouble would be as well connected as anyone by now.

Professor Dark turned down the alley, away from the scene, and after some minutes emerged on the other side of the block. The streets were filled with people going towards the explosion, going away from it, standing still and staring at the spreading dust cloud which was covering the city and already had started to fall like grey snow.

The sound of sirens and a child across the street crying. The city was some shadow of Beirut, of Baghdad, of New York.

Lachlan had been reading by the fountain in New York City Hall Park that morning when the first plane struck. He was on day two of a three day field trip with a dozen of his classmates, and three teachers including his father, looking at the architecture and civic planning of New York. On day three they had been scheduled to visit the World Trade Centre.

Dark remembered how unreal it had seemed. Like a bad movie; like toys crashing into poorly crafted models. And he remembered how later it had become what the French philosopher Boudrillard called Hyper Real; ubiquitous; ephemeral. An event lost but ever present.

As a man long past his teens, he took a break from his doctoral studies at MIT for a few days and drove down to New York in his beat-up and dusty 2001 Fiat Seicento. The tiny car looking as small as he felt amongst New York's verticle landscape. He had not been back to New York since the night he spent in JFK years earlier, when the airport was gripped by silent and busy terror - and terrible relief.

He had marvelled at the construction of the replacement building, catching the light like a diamond. But somehow he could not bring himself to go inside and on the drive back to MIT the radio had played Van Morrison's Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child.

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child...
Sometimes I wish I could fly...
Like a bird up in the sky
Little closer to home...
Motherless children have such a really hard time
A long way from home

He pulled off the road and sat in his car, thinking about his own mother, whose death only two months earlier from long degenerative illness had been a knife wound into the side of his abstract and academic existence. Had he thrown himself so much into his work because he was terrified of that day he knew had to happen? And how his father, furiously pious, his father the zealot, would stand up at her funeral and talk about how it was a release and she would be happy with God. And the mourners would nod in belief. And he, the apostate son, would rage against the welcoming of death like a friend: the envelopment of utter blackness: the surrdendur to the godless void.

And now, in 2014, Professor Dark was once again standing in the softly falling grey snow of pulverised building rubble and contemplating his own powerlessness.

He snapped his fingers - an action which made the tailor jump, look affronted, then, instantly afterwards, terrified. He had been looking out the window and had not seen Dark enter or approach, or stand and wait. He saw him now, his eyes as cold as an ancient glacier.

"We're closed," the tailor blustered and flapped his hands as if to usher Dark out of the shop. Dark towered over him more like a statue than a man and could not have been moved by ten such men.

"You're open," he said, in a voice not to be denied. A voice, grown in strength from only this morning, of which Dark was no longer frightened or surprised in use.

"But I live on an apartment on the next street, that could be my-"

"We've all got a story to tell," Dark cut him off. "I'm going to need a whole new wardrobe, so get your tape and your fabric book and talk to me about staff discount".

[Raven T.]

Alex

Alex blinked several times. Judy had really cut to the quick of the matter here; he had asked her to do it because she was a good friend and he trusted her. Her desire to catch up was to be expected, though. "It has been a long time and I do apologize if you feel slighted or otherwise insulted by my terse nature. Modern business practices being what they are, one cannot truly let emotional baggage get in the way. Therefore, one develops a cold, focused demeanor if they intend to succeed. I have some time before I must go speak with my new client; what would you like to know?"

[harmonictempest]

Gust

Everyone wants to be a hero. At least, Robert Blain always had. His exhilaration of the last minutes vanished like smoke in the wind as he came to halt above the smoking remnants of the utterly destroyed building, the wind about him suddenly much more evident as it created eddies and swirls in the slowly falling flakes of ash. A snowstorm from Hell. His heroic (heroic?) efforts in putting out the fire were trivialized in the face of such destruction. They had been children, playing games with newfound power. You couldn't stop it. You failed...failed failed failed failed failed--

And Gust was away, almost fired from the ground in his furious ascent, and leaving a tumultuous wake through the settling clouds of smoke and debris. Unaware of his surroundings for almost the first time since gaining his powers, he simply flew as hard and as fast as he could, his mind a vast, swirling hurricane of sentences, opinions, observations, and myriads of trivial minutiae jostling each other for the forefront of his attention. It was a feeling he recognized and hated, but whose seductiveness he could not avoid. By instinct, he tried to seize on the nearest pieces and form them into some kind of order, some recognizable pattern that would mean something, that would lead somewhere, open his mind or shift his understanding in some way that would finally make the world make sense, instead of the endless tessellation of crumbling minutiae and complexity that refused him. There's no reliable path, no guaranteed formula to reduce this teeming swarm of cognition into sensible, ordered, meaningful and useful theories, patterns, plans, and schedules. There never was - just the feeling of navigating a storm-tossed sea without a compass, when the rest of the world was born with one. And no matter the effort, he couldn't seem to locate it, to locate that spark of direction that seemed to guide so many others through the day without a thought, when every decision was for him an agony, a sense of floundering without gut feeling of what the right path might be. And yet there was always the strange certainty that somewhere within was that key, that thought or path that, when seized upon and followed, would lead to that certainty of purpose and comfort in his own skin that the average person seemed to have in spades.

Eventually, his thoughts tired of tumbling chaos, and slowed back toward normalcy, from weariness less than any conclusion or resolution. Gust looked around, paying attention again, and found himself above a low cloud layer. Diving through it, he realized he had little idea of which part of the city he was over, less from having lost himself than simply the difficulty of recognizing familiar things when seen from above. In lieu of trying to find his way back for now,he settled to the top of the tallest building nearby that he saw. In the aftermath of his personal storm, he felt simply tired rather than angry or frustrated - as usual. The saving grace in such moments was that the mind couldn't handle such high levels of energy for long, and so resolved or not, the storm eventually quieted to a calm. Sitting on the edge of the building overlooking the city, he ran his fingers through his hair and, breathing deeply, expelled a long, slow breath. Realizing he was sitting on a rather uncomfortable lump, he shifted slightly and discovered the carrots still in his pocket. For lack of something better to do, he pulled one out with a wry shrug and began to munch absently, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably. Staring out at the still-rising cloud of smoke over the rooftops in the distance, he sank into contemplation.

I'm...different now. I suppose that's obvious, but it seemed like a good place to start. I don't know what to do with it, though - it's like I got all my wishes answered and then couldn't do anything with them. I felt tied down, forgotten, insignificant, clueless. I have a mediocre job, and live by myself, and have no real plans for the future, despite wanting since forever to "be someone". Then this happens: I felt tied down, but now I'm as free as could be possible, free as a bird, I guess. I felt clueless, but now I notice *everything*. But somehow, I'm just as helpless as before. It doesn't do any good to notice everything if I have no idea what it means - I could have passed right by the clue to that entire explosion, and I'll never know it, because it wouldn't mean anything to me even though I noticed it. The explosion didn't make me smarter, for certain. And while I'm not stronger, I'm pretty sure I could beat up just about anyone if I wanted to. And there's a lot of other things I'm capable of, like at that fire...but I don't know what they'd be. I can't *imagine* how I'd use control over the air in devious and unexpected ways, no matter how fine or strong my control is over it. I guess...I guess life isn't like the comic books. Geez, how un-profound. There's no magical clarity of purpose that comes with superpowers - sometimes, I guess there's just *power*, and you have to figure out how to use it best all by yourself.

Gust's musings were interrupted by a small shock, which he quickly realized was his hand not finding another carrot in the now-empty bag. He crumpled the bag slowly and put it back in his pocket while getting up, a little stiffly from sitting in the same position too long. Dusting off his hands, he flew slowly back across the city in the direction of his apartment. I think I'm going to need help. Something was wrong, very wrong at that building, and I couldn't figure it out. Maybe if I had, I'd have been able to stop it. I guess I'll be attending that meeting tomorrow after all. Whoever blew up that building must be stopped - it's one thing to be evil, but another thing completely to toy with power like that.

Had you asked him, he could not have told you how he knew it was deliberate. Could not have described how he noticed the perfect placement of explosions on each floor, or the precisely timed explosions coming exactly one second apart. Nor could he have relayed his reasons for what he felt about the person who had planned it, how the fact that the fire had been only on one floor, but the explosion on all of them, plus a thousand other tiny details had built up into a certainty of a figure who would destroy an entire building for a lark, or as a test. But this person, he felt sure, he would know if he met - such callousness and brilliance could certainly not have mixed in more than one individual.

Unless he sees something interesting, he'll find his apartment and go home for now (probably stopping if he sees anything worth stopping for, though). What time is it?

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse looks up and nods to Nosferatu. He reaches down and picks up the briefcase-sized flyer and takes the shotgun seat. He looks back at Reaper, "Coming?"

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu felt a buzz at his leg. A few seconds later, the cell phone rang with the subdued electronic notes of a ringtone. A keen ear could spot it as the tune from a classic movie, The Imperial March from Star Wars. Of course, such an old movie was technically before his time, but when within the nerd culture there are just some references that will never die off.

Slipping the black casing from his pocket, he flicked open the phone. A text message:

Nosferatu, I need to speak to you. In fact, I need to speak to ALL of you. When? Where? Dark.

Huh. That was interesting timing. Not a few moments had passed since the explosion and Prof Dark sends a mysterious text asking to speak with me and the other... supers, one would assume. Immediately Nosferatu's minded leap to the idea that Dark was linked to the explosion, and the fire! Wait. Slow down. That is very unlikely. We were talking immediately before seeing the fire. While it is possible his powers could have included some mode of incredibly fast travel or teleportation, it still would have taken a little bit of time to set things in motion. He could have set everyhting up in advance... that seems more his style. But surely if he had, there would have been some crytic remark working into the conversation. Quickly scanning his memory, the conversation held no such phrase. Of course, he could just be smarter than a Saturday mornign cartoon villain.

Hmm.

Well, Nosferatu had said for people to invite others if they wished to come. Several of the heroes could be young enough to be students. Its entirely possible Dark would find out anyway. Besides, Nosferatu had a good feeling about Dark. He was usually a pretty good judge of people.

Decision resolved, Nosferatu types quickly on the tiny keyboard, and constructs the reply:

12 Noon. Tomorrow. Abandoned quarry on the west side of town. Bring a costume.

After a brief thought, he takes a quick picture of the digital vampire on his shirt, and adds it as a form of signature. With a brief smile, he hits the 'send' button and saves the number it was sent to as 'Dark'. The meeting will be much more interesting with Dark attending. As long as he does not do a recruiting run for his experiments...

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper swiftly melds into the shadows and emerges a moment later in the backseat of the car. He says, "Let us be off."

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Dark completed his transactions and caught a taxi back to the institute. This proved to be considerably more difficult than getting into the city. He saw police officers react organically to the situation, like white blood cells in a body damaged and invaded. Suddenly every beat cop was imbued with that sense of absolute power and the necessity of its use in extremis.

The ordinary people - and now of course the phrase "ordinary people" meant something quite different - had reacted as their own instincts told them to. Some were paralysed with fear (he saw a woman, about his age, sitting on a shop front window ledge and shaking, though she was not visibly injured) while for some it had a mobilizing effect. The woman on the window ledge was being comforted by three others.

And of course - of course! - this was exactly the intention. In the same way as the world had eventually come to recognise the attack on New York as a rallying of extreme fundamentalism (Christian and Muslim) so this incident would galvanise, for want of more discrete phraseology, the heroes and villains. He read the text he had received from Nos: the heroes would be meeting in less than a day. The villains? Well, some of them had been at work already and their ranks would be swelled by those who would hold all mutants responsible for this, only the first, major attack on Rainport. And the lines between the two would become inevitably blurred.

He wondered vaguely how the mayor's position would have changed by the breakfast shows tomorrow. The radio in the taxi was on the news - did nobody listen to music anymore? - and he caught the names of a few of the heroes who had volunteered their information to the police. He wondered with only marginally more interest which of them would be the first to make the cover of Time magazine.

Back at his office Dark was pleased to see more order. The Fermi Building janitor - a middle-aged Puerto Rican with male pattern baldness advancing in all directions - was putting bags of paper onto a trolley.

Dark introduced himself, which seemed to surprise the janitor. And they traded about thirty seconds worth of pleasantries before both men - apologetically busy - had to continue with their own tasks.

Remainder of post redacted. The CIA and I deny all knowledge.

[The_Snark]

Judith

Alex's words confirm what she was thinking. If he was talking to her like this, he'd been letting his work demeanor creep into his normal life. "Just how you've been doing. Before all this started happening, I mean. What have you been doing anything in your spare time? Anything terribly important happened in the last couple years? Are you still in touch with anyone else from college?" That she knew, she meant; she hadn't really known many of Alex's peers, since a good number of them had been graduate students also. And those she did know... well, she'd drifted away from a lot of them in her last year or so at college. She couldn't fault them for it; it wasn't as if she was comfortable with what she'd been doing back then, either. It would be nice to get back in touch with some of them, if she could.

She goes on without pausing, to cover up her discomfort at that thought. "A new girlfriend I should meet? Take your pick." Just so long as it's not about what's happening today. Just for a little while, I'd like to pretend things are still normal.

[Raven T.]

Alex

Alex sighed some softly. She wanted the exposition and he had to get to Frank's before The Man. It would be close, but he figured he could pull it off. Beckoning her to follow him to the coffee shop for something to drink, he started the story...


It had been a hard road to get where he was. College had almost burned him out; getting your PhD in six years will do that to a guy. However, he steeled himself against the pain and exhaustion before starting to look for work. He hadn't done much as far as clubs and whatnot; a courseload like his, designed to prove that his skill and wisdom were on par with the expectations that preceded him. Even with his internships during school, it was quite difficult to find a company who would take a chance on him.

Industrial Innovations took him in first. They stuck him in a low-level management position and hoped he would just...disappear. However, he wouldn't stay silent. He often would bring up to the more senior members things he saw as inefficient wastes of time. This they bought to their superiors and used it to their advantage. This raised a new problem; they never gave the devil his due. Frustrated, upset, and ready to beat the snot out of something. He quickly realized, though, that no one cares. He was just a cog in the corporate machine with no hope for advancement.

His cutthroat instinct began to kick in. To clear a path, he kept his eyes and ears open. Anything that he could use against his superiors, he did. Some people began to fear him, but their worries were relieved when they realized he only used these tactics when they failed to recognize him. His reputation also began to develop as he rose through the ranks. Those under him were always rewarded for success, but never punished for failure. He always told them that, as long as they tried, they never truly failed. Setbacks were a part of life. Through this mentality, their productivity increased and everyone moved up through the ranks.

Not everyone was excited for him. People who had been with the company for decades and weren't as accomplished as Alex was resented the ease with which this newcomer asserted himself and rose to a position over him. Office politics being what they were, Alex decided to move on before his reputation was irreparably tarnished. This is what brought him to Rainport and Steel Widgets. He got a glowing recommendation from his last job and this landed him a position overseeing their delicate CNC machine shop. Granted, he knew little about how to RUN a machine, but that's not why he was hired. His job revolved around bookkeeping, ordering, and overseeing the big picture. The foremen on the floor loved him from the start; he didn't tell them how to do their job and listened to their advice. Production efficiency increased by leaps and bounds the first few months, then steadily afterwards. Proving his micromanaging skills, he got more departments and a higher position over them.

His loyal management base had seen him through thick and thin. Continuing the tradition of rewards with no real punishment, everything fell into place. The leadership skills he displayed throughout the last three years began to cause the same fear in the upper echelons that had prompted his exit from Industrial Innovations three years ago. His ambition being what it is, he had already been looking into striking out on his own before the incident. All the events did was cause him to pursue it more aggressively than ever before.

[Xerxes Shadow]

Joe quick-drew his shotgun and fired once at a thug, then leaped towards the top of the building.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Jump: 52. (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1415622) ((I forgot the last roll tag and forum rolls don't work with edit.))

[geez3r]

{I don't know about the rest of you, but the boards have been really buggy for me today, nothing has been loading properly, so I hope this goes through, I've been starting at the loading bar for like 20 minutes.}

B]Pulse/Nosferatu/Reaper[/B]

After doing what you can, the three of you set off with Green, who radioed his superiors about making contact with you and about the explosion. As he drives you across town, you see several emergency vehicles heading in the opposite direction. Green remains silent most of the time, but it doesn't feel like an awkward silence, it just seems like he's deep in thought about the events of today. After a bit of driving, you finally realize where he's taking you. There's an old abandoned airstrip just outside of the city; after a bit of work, it would make the perfect base of operations for the National Guard.

When you get within sight of the place, you see a great deal of flames and smoke rising from it, as well as some large lumbering figure, but Green doesn't look phased at all by these events; it must be the norm.

From all the activity, you guess there's about 200 people there already. Some of the more intact builings looks like their being put to use while the old ones are being ignored for the time being, and there are a great number of tents scattered about.

"Here we are gentleman." Says Green when you are still in the Hummer, getting closer to your destination.

Kid Zeus

1d4=4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1417623)

You fly around for a bit before you start hearing something weird; someone’s playing guitar, really well infact. Intrigued you start flying in the general direction of the music, as it continues to get louder and louder. It starts getting to sound level of a rock concert until you finally spot the cause, there’s a guy standing on a roof top with a guitar rocking out. You’re nor sure if he’s in a costume or if he just dresses like that normally. To understand what this guy looks like think Slipknot meets Kiss meets tackle box. A small crowd has gathered to hear him play on the streets below. You don’t see an amp anywhere.

Murky

There’s another door in the back marked “Restrooms: Paying customers and Employees only” There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around, and you notice that the shop keeper is also looking around too, and he is apparently satisfied as well. ”No need to yell man, I’m right here.” He examines the gun for a moment and say ”Yep, I reckon I can set you up with something with a little more kick. Now, how much more kick do ya want?” The last part of the sentence obviously means “How much are you willing to pay?”

Gust

1d4=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1417754)
{It’s currently like 1 or 2 in the afternoon, surprising huh? Fire right around noon and with all the flying and monolouges, about 1-2 hours have passed. Glawackus is like the furthest “behind” it’s only like 10AM for him}

You don’t see anything that note worthy on your way home. Just emergency vehicles going every which way. It’s pretty chaotic down there.

Andrew/Vox Populi

For the first time, the man from the NSA speaks up “We have no specific regulatory body in place for such an event, but due to the nature of the abilities granted, it is the opinion of the government that the NSA should have a role in the regulation of the events we are discussing here today, which is percisely why I am here. From what I’ve seen today however leads me to believe you have a fairly good handle on things, so the NSA isn’t going to take over, more of like lend a helping hand. At least, that’s what I’ll reccomend to my superiors.”

The Leuitent General then says “We currently have no official coalition, but I can personally attest to the efficiency of such partnerships. The National Guard has begun setting up base at the abadoned air strip to the West outside of town, and the two metas known as Inferno and Titan have lent us their assistance in getting the place up and running. It’s also a bit scary to see how efficient they are however. One of the old hangars was a bit too damaged to be feesibly repaired, so we needed to knock it down to give us some space, and for safety reason. Titan ran through that building like it wasn’t even there. And Inferno is helping up patch up the tarmac by melting it and then smoothing it out, that is some serious heat. We could probably smack down a Super or two, but it a bunch of them banded together, they could do some serious, serious damage before they were bought down.”

The Man

The secretary’s eyes gloss over as she emits a content sigh, and she smiles with a bit of color rising to her face. Ms. Yamashima looks at her secrecretary and asks ”Is everything alright dear? You look a little off.” The secretary answers ”Nah I’m good. In fact, I feel great.” she continues smiling at you, biting her lower lip impishly.

Joe/Davan/Thugs

Joe shoots one of the thugs, and leaps high into the air, landing on the roof top of the building with an impressive amount of grace. This action however leaves Davan alone with 2 agitated thugs who both move in and attack. The second thug tries to come in and sweep out your legs, but slips on some junk on the alleyway and his attack is thrown off target. The first thug comes in high with a spin kick, but Davan manages to evade it. Your shuriken hits the thug in the shoulder, and the explosion it generates nearly knocks him over, but now he looks pissed.

attack roll (1d20+14=15) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1418301)
attack roll (1d20+14=22) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1418305)

Legion

As you start walking away, you notice that it just got real quiet like. You stop dead when you hear 3 guns **** and a voice says ”Who are you and what have you done with Frank?”

[Glawackus]

Andrew/Vox Populi

"That's precisely what I'm afraid of, sir," Andrew says, holding his hands out. "We're playing with fire here, and I'm afraid we'll get a burn we won't recover from. I'd like to start setting up that regulatory body here in the city, with the National Security Agency's help, of course. I think that some kind of organization needs to be established here. Don't get me wrong--I don't mind if a man who can fly stops a potential suicide, or a woman who can breathe underwater saves a man from drowning--but I think that over the next few weeks, the good citizens of Rainport are going to find themselves walking the line between hero and villain. Not to change the subject, but speaking of villains, what happened to that Reaper character? Did we ever manage to get him?"
Andrew sits back, feeling a little smug that he remembered to work the Reaper in there, hoping that the mayor will feel the squeeze for a regulatory body on remembering what transpired at the press conference.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "It looks like you boys have been busy. So, have you been informed when the mayor might be able to join us here? I'm sure his meeting is of the utmost importance, but I wouldn't put Reaper on the low priority list, by any means."

[evisiron]

OOC: This was meant to be up earlier, but I could not get near the forums with the server bug. So, this post takes place while in transit on the truck, and I will post another 'up to date' one in a minute

Nosferatu

Nosferatu lounged back on the top of the truck. He reveled in the sun on his face, feeling the energy seep into his skin, and wash gradually through the rest of his body. It was like being linked up to a constant power source. Even when out of sunlight, the energy did not diminish for quite some time.

Nosferatu lifted his hands level with his face and stared at them. They almost appeared normal. They were a little paler than he remembered, but they would pass any studious examination. With a thought, he flushed the skin with the chlorophyll, drawing the light absorbing cells to the skins surface. Now the hands looked strange and alien. They reflected the change that had taken place.

With another thought, he returned the green tint back to the depths of his flesh. It was strange, even when buried behind layers of living cells these new additions to Nosferatu’s body could detect the subtle differences in the light, as well as minute oddities in wavelength patterns. This generates the ‘taste’ when he boosts his perception in the presence of other altered. Recently though, the skin has done more. It has begun to filter the light, or alter it to be better processed. He could still ‘taste’ the air, but now it was less overwhelming.

With a sudden jolt of realization, Nosferatu recognises that his body is still changing. Not everything changed overnight after the blast. Seeking to confirm or refute this claim, Nosferatu carefully raises his blade to his hand, and tries to slice a minor cut in his hand. At first he is unsuccessful, as his skin is much tougher than before the explosion. More force is added, and eventually a thin red line is left on the skin. From it, a drop of blood slowly forms. When it becomes large enough, it starts to drop from his hand. However, instead of sailing through the air like a droplet of water, it sags and stretches downwards, before coming to a halt as the wound closes itself up.

“Just like tree sap”

Nosferatu holds the string of red viscous sap towards the light. Within the strand, particles of green can be seen. It is confirmed, his body is indeed still in the process of change.

But where will it end? Perhaps he will keep changing until he is nothing but a plant, lounging in the sun, never moving, never thinking. Maybe it would be best to join Prof Dark’s experiments. A cure developed now may save his life later.

Nosferatu gives out a gentle sigh.

But if they do find out how to reverse it, his powers could be torn away from him. As much as he wants to help people, and would argue that losing the powers would stop him, in the core of his being Nosferatu knows that there is another reason. No one would willingly give up such power. It would be like being born blind, then receiving the power to see, before being told that it may eventually kill you and to be safe you must risk that sight once again.
A few minutes are spent pondering how far he would go to protect the new power.
Would he avoid the experiments? Of course.
Would he fight the government if needed? He might.
Would he kill someone…
Nosferatu shakes his head to dispel these dark thoughts. A bridge cannot be evaluated properly until you have to cross it. The thoughts turn to the Reaper. Is this how it happened to him? Was he once filled with pure intentions and ideals, before losing them one at a time? Well, if worst comes to worst, at least he is trying to redeem himself.

Nosferatu leans his head back, and once again begins to think only of the suns energy seeping through his body.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu
As the destination comes into sight, Nosferatu notices the smoke and the lumbering figure. Green says something, but it is lost in the hiss of the wind. Gripping the metal frame, Nosferatu leans over the cab roof, so that his head can be seen upside down beside the drivers head.

“Hey, is it normally like this, or is something up?”

He has to almost shout the words to ensure being heard.

[Wiz]

Excerpt from the research journal of Dr. Harold Smith...

What to do about mutates? This is a question that is going to echo at the highest levels of our government. First of all, what to do about this mutating agent? It seems likely that Balchem, Forthwind, and anyone else responsible for this “accident” will be given some kind of immunity for full disclosure. It also seems likely that this mutagen will become the most intensely studied and greatest military secret of our age. Why wouldn’t it… if you could recreate the mutagen, you could turn any number of your citizens into super beings. It would be the greatest military edge any country could have, and it would be particularly favored by countries with high population but low technology. Will the military force conscription of all mutates?

Will the government require registration of all mutates and mutant powers? We insist on registration of handguns. Many of these powers are more dangerous than handguns, so registration makes sense. Then of course, there is the lurking final solution. In the past when one group of humans has devised hatred for another group, genocide has occurred. Genocide occurs today on a daily basis in Africa. Why might not someone here decide that Genocide is the answer to the problem of the mutates. So, do the mutates meekly submit to registration, or will not some of them fight the process. Would they be right to resist? I might want to think about contacting an ACLU lawyer.

Will these powers breed true? If I have children will they have the same magnetic powers I have? I cannot but think that the boosting of my intelligence is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me… even without all the rest. Wouldn’t I want my children to have that same increased intelligence? If I bred with another mutate, would our children have expanded powers from both sets of parents, or would some lurking vestige of the mutagen - bonded to our very genes make each child completely different from their parents? How will humans see us if our powers do breed true… as a new species? Our children would be true mutants… will there be conflict between the changed and unchanged? Mutate vs. human… mutant vs. human?

The mayor’s speech stressed that we were all people, all humans. Will that attitude prevail among the people of Rainport? I like the mayor. He seems to be the kind of man who deals with each individual as a person, and doesn’t tend to group any person into just a stereotype and a title. I think he can be trusted… but how long will he retain control? There is a huge potential for fear here, and many politicians smell fear as an opportunity to grab control.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus


You fly around for a bit before you start hearing something weird; someone’s playing guitar, really well infact. Intrigued you start flying in the general direction of the music, as it continues to get louder and louder. It starts getting to sound level of a rock concert until you finally spot the cause, there’s a guy standing on a roof top with a guitar rocking out. You’re nor sure if he’s in a costume or if he just dresses like that normally. To understand what this guy looks like think Slipknot meets Kiss meets tackle box. A small crowd has gathered to hear him play on the streets below. You don’t see an amp anywhere.

"Whoa." the teenager exclaimed as he hovered in for a closer look, circling around to the guy's rear so as not to disrupt the performance. The guy looked like something out of a black metal amusement park, but he listened to his fair share of thrash metal so Kid Zeus actually approached the situation with some amusement. Then again, he didn't happen to see an amp anywhere in sight, nor was the guitar connected to any wires as far as he could see. Was this guy another metahuman like him? Was this his power? To rock people's socks off? "That is so cool." he grinned.

Kid Zeus let himself down onto one of the chimneys rising from the roof and stood perched there, letting his power die down a bit so his electricity wouldn't interfere with the guy's guitar. He didn't see any reason to stop the guy, or that he was a threat, despite the way he looked. He seemed to just be using his new gift to entertain people. Sure, there'd be a noise complaint or two from people who couldn't understand the appeal of a heavy metal riff, but Kid Zeus hadn't been given a police order or anything yet. So he just waited until the guy paused for breath, or hit a low note if he never stopped playing.

"Hardcore, man! Where'd you learn to play like that?" he called.

[Raven T.]

Alex

On the nature of Good and Evil...

Nero. Rasputin. Jack the Ripper. Charlie Manson. Hitler. Pope Innocent III.

Why are these names so infamous? Why do we despise them? What crime do we hate more than anything else in the world?

Murder. They all ordered or preformed the wholesale slaughter of people. Whatever their motivations, mankind reviles a murderer more than any other criminal. We hold the sanctity of life to be of utmost importance in our society.

This makes perfect sense, if you look at the animal kingdom. Most interspecies relationships, even battles for dominance, are most often non-fatal. A show of force through nonlethal means is usually enough to deter whatever action or behavior prompted the show in the first place. Even if they are bitter rivals, species solidarity and preservation seems to come first.

But men have evolved some sort of deviant gene. There are those out there who relish killing, who revel in the blood of the fallen. Animals may fight over territory, yes, and the losers sometimes die off from lack of food, but Homo Sapien is the only creature who wages war for idealogical reasons. We fight, not because our houses are being invaded or our lovers are threatened, but because some jerk looked at us funny. Humans are violent, destructive, and dangerous creatures.

What evolutionary block did we trip over to bring this to the surface? Science has never bothered to take a serious look at this aspect of human behavior, labeling those who display it outwardly as either warriors or deviant psychopaths.

No matter what, though, mankind will kill itself in the end.

[PlasticSoldier]

[OOC: Rasputin didn't kill anyone.]

Legion

"My name's Legion. The guards are okay and they will be if you follow me to where they are and then wait the ten minutes its going to take us to finish here. Finishing up his statement by casually drawing his gun and pointing down the hallway with it. "In the deposit room, come with me." If they continue to stand there with there guns pointed at him he'll repeat that last sentence in a much more threatening manner. If they continue to stand there with there guns pointed at him he'll point his gun at one and say "Surrender, if you don't, don't blink or you'll die in the dark.".

Giving how I phrased it its supposed to be more said negotiatingly than intimidating but I rolled both just in case. I used invcastle because I forgot to make the rolls when I posted this.
Diplom 1d20+18=31, Intimid 1d20+23=41 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1420635)

Edit The last sentence I edited in it's not very important but I found a really cool One-liner and just had to use it.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper sits silently, deep in thought, as the Humvee speeds across the black asphalt. Finally the car pulls to a stop, and the Reaper leans forward, addressing the driver. He says, "Do you have an umbrella or something? I'd like to avoid the lethal rays of the sun if at all possible."


:mitd: reference. :smallbiggrin:

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

Dodging the kick and sending it wide, Davan turns inwards in a spin, preparing to
strike out against the thug
Well, the other guy is definitely another mutant. How nice of him to run away, no? Makes this more interesting. Especially since that one's still in the fight. Hmm, so they're both probably tougher than they look. Gooooooood. Well then, what to do next? That one at least knows how to fight a little...his kick wasn't bad. A little sloppy, but he might have been a little overconfident. Then again, I might be too? Who can say? Now then, two targets. The only question I should have is...who do I take down first? Better leave one of them well enough to at least talk.

Completing the evasive maneuver ingrained in him by years of practice and sparring, Davan only pauses enough in the nearly reflexive strike against the thug to activate the odd aura ability he has only recently acquired. He strikes out with an open palm, ducks down, and quickly turns the opposite direction, sweeping towards the other thug with his leg, completing only a small movement in one of the many forms he has spent much of his life training in.

Ah, sometimes I only really feel alive like this...in the midst of a friendly spar, or a fight, or maybe even an all-out battle to the death-wouldn't know, never had to do it before, but this might qualify.

activating aura, and Full Attack action, attacking first the thug who kicked, and second the one who tripped.

Full attack action (1d20+10=18, 1d20+5=17) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1420496)
Damage rolls-unarmed and kinetic from aura (1d8+4=6, 4d6=13, 1d8+4=11, 4d6=14) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1420497)
And I'll use an action point to keep form killing the talking thug-now designated as Thug 1 .
Unbalancing Thug 1.

The damage rolls are a little off, I entered 5 where i should have 4.

2 pp activation
2 pp maintaining

74/78 pp remaining

[Raven T.]

[OOC: Leave me alone in my little fantasy world; I was on a roll!:smalltongue: ] Not sure how that's less than ten words, but whatever...

[blennus]

“The Man”

He turned and thanked Ms. Yamashima one last time and left the building, all the while being ogled by the secretary. The secretary was only a 6, so he wasn’t really interested in her in that way. Too bad, really. With the loss a few pounds, and a bit of cosmetic surgery on her large nose, and some generous implants, she’d be much better to look at. But of course he wasn’t in the business of making models, just sleeping with them. As he entered his limo he thought back to what had happened when his hand had brushed against hers. The look the secretary gave him suggested that she wanted him, in a bad way. His skin now appeared to emit some sort of powerful aphrodisiac. How this happened he did not know, but apparently it was connected to his newly increased confidence. He instinctively knew that it wouldn’t affect men, but the real question was could he control it? The last thing he wanted was to affect Angie in the same way.
“Angie, I need you to buy a pair of gloves for yourself. Apparently the chemical that changed me hasn’t stopped working yet. I want to make sure that you take any and all precautions so that we will never be in physical contact. Believe me, you really don’t.”
“What happened? Is your skin toxic somehow? Can it be fixed?” She had a look of genuine concern on her face.
“Nah, I’m not poisonous. It’s not something bad or something that I want to fix, it’s just that you don’t want to be affected by this new power. It won’t be good, trust me. Just bill the gloves to my account.”
“Oh” She looked relieved. “Well, I guess I can go shop for a pair while you’re in a meeting or something.”
“Good, you get on that. Anyways, I think we have time for some lunch before my appointment at the Hospital.”
“Where do you want to go for lunch?”
“How about the all you can eat, Hurl’o’rama. I used to eat there often before the explosion.”
“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
“I know, but it has the best roast beef in Rainport.”
“But I’m a vegetarian!”
“Oh, right. I guess that wasn’t a good idea, especially for someone of my social standing to go there would be wrong. Ok, well that’s off the list. Too bad I can’t afford to eat at Raphiel's.”
“How about Bob’s Sammiches?”
“Excellent. Let us be off then!”

Summary: Think to himself, then go to lunch.

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

This room isn't very big. On the wall looks like... some kind of painting? The door's closed, and I'm laying on some kind of bed... Is this a hospital? Jason opened his eyes slowly, and even though the sun shone down menacingly his eyes didn't hurt. Past the hum of the electric lights above him he began to pick up a great bustling from all around him. Jason just breathed, remaining looking up at the star-filled sky. What's going on...

Finally he shut his eyes tight and sat up, and opened them slowly. The room was exactly like he described in his head. He was there in his mind, just moments before. He felt weak, but the smells of cooking food from below were tantalizing. He rose to his feet slowly as the door opened. Jason gave a slight smile for the nurse before she entered completely. I was right. Hospital room.

When the door swung open, a thinly-muscled skeletal form stared back at him, a half-grin on its lips. Jason screamed and shut his eyes tight again before opening them slowly to see just the nurse, with an alarmed look on her face. "Are you alright?" She asked.

Jason took another deep breath. "Yeah... fine..." he said shakingly. The smells still were dancing around his nostrils. "Um.. where's the cafeteria?"

She smiled. "Just take the elevator down three floors and follow the signs. But if you're feeling too weak to walk we-"

"I'm fine." He jotted out quickly. The nurse, looking a little discomforted, turned and left.

Summary: Intro post and spent 3pp to see through ceiling, atmosphere, and skin. :smallsmile:

[Xerxes Shadow]

WHEN IT'S JOE'S TURN.

Joe leaps down from the top of the building, smirking. This was his new favorite tactic- he got to totally confuse thugs, annoy other supers, and leap around all at once. He fired the shotgun at the thug that kicked in midair, landing catlike on his feet.

Attack- [roll0]
Damage- [roll1]

((I'd roll a Jump check, but the +47 bonus kind of ruins the chance of failure. I bet I could jump onto a moving dragon. :roy:))

[The_Snark]

Judy

She listens in the coffee shop, slowly drinking as Alex talks but mostly using the cup as something to hold on to, enjoying the warmth in her hands until it's gone. When he finally finishes, she looks up from toying wih the cup. "Well... it sounds like you've done pretty well for yourself the last few years. I'm glad." She hadn't done quite so well. She reaches across the table to pat him on the shoulder, giving him a reserved smile. "I hadn't really thought about how much all of this must be messing up your life, also. I'm sorry if it is."

"Anyway, you said you had to meet with somebody? I won't keep you, then." He'd mentioned it was supposed to be about a bar for people who'd been affected by the blast, which would be interesting if it panned out. "I'll call you if I hear about anything." She rises with a smile. "Thanks for the coffee."

Outside the coffee shop, the grin she'd been restraining breaks out. Maybe Alex's intense focus on his work should have worried her. It did, actually. But it was also so much like Alex to talk for twenty minutes about his work and never realize she'd been asking about his life outside work, she couldn't help but find it funny. It sounded like he needed to take some time off. Without actually taking time out of his work, of course; that wouldn't go over well with him, and it was hardly the best thing to do now. But you couldn't spend your whole life in business. She'd have to make sure he got out sometime.

Later. In the meantime, she has other work to do...

[Wiz]

Pulse

Watching the scene outside the car as he waits for Corporal Green to answer his query, he knocks the ceiling, "Nosferatu, it looks like Titan and Brimstone are giving the tarmac a face lift." He glances over to Reaper and nods, reaching to his belt he pulls off a short baton-like item and hands it to him. "Once outside the car, hit the button. The umbrella opens up."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu leans over the side of the truck to reply to Pulse.

"Oh yeah. Those were the guys at the Mayor attack right? Umm, Reaper, you might want to keep your head down for a bit until everyone knows what the situation is. Are you sure his name is Brimstone? I can't tell whether its him or Inferno from here."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "You're right, I think... his name is Inferno. Can't figure out why I called him Brimstone, unless it was because he seemed so unhappy with the name he'd been given."

[Nelphine]

Murky

"Well, I'm looking for the biggest thing you've got in stock. But a friend of mine has told me that he might be interested in a bulk purchase, and he's asked me to see if I could arrange a meeting to discuss that possibility."

Murky waves the gun a bit. "Preferably.. as soon as possible." Murky waves the gun in the direction of the phone. "My friend doesn't like to be kept waiting. And I don't think you're the man to talk to. So perhaps you'd like to get me in touch with the guy I should talk to about such an order?"

Murky really wanted to just put this guy down.. but he had to figure out who was actually part of the Neo-Mafia first, or he wouldn't have anywhere to go next. And as much as he wanted to get rid of these guys, he wasn't going to torture anyone for information. So, slow and impatient was the name of the game. At least for now.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu gives a sigh of relief.

"At least its them. I was worried that the base might already be under attack. Thats the last thing we need at the moment."

[blennus]

“The Man”

As Angie casually navigated the roads and wove their way through the sparse traffic of the back roads towards Bob’s Sammiches, they noticed a hitchhiker next to a Harley-Davidson. The biker was about 5’10 and looked the part with his various tattoos, leather jacket, dark sunglasses and long shaggy beard.
“Hey boss, can we stop here and take a look at his Harley?”
“Fine, fine. Just don’t take too long.”
She parked just past the hitchhiker started toward the motorcycle, ‘The Man’ exiting a few seconds after her. “Hey mister, you have a problem with your bike? I can take a look at it for you.”
“Nah, I just need a ride. I’ll come back to fix it later.”
She bent down and took a closer look at it, and then looked up and said “But I can fix it right now. It’s only a simple problem in the wiring. I can take care of it in a jiffy. Let me go get my tools.” After which she ran back to the Limo. Meanwhile ‘The Man’ had come up right to where they were standing.
“Your girl sure knows a thing or two about bikes” The biker seemed agitated.
‘The Man’ started rubbing his chin and looked down at the biker, “Actually, I was wondering how a man of the streets like yourself didn’t notice that simple wiring problem. I was under the impression that your lot took care of your bikes like most folks take care of their children.”
He seemed more and more nervous as ‘The Man’ had spoken “Just what are you trying to imply.” he growled.
“Nothing, nothing. It just seems odd, that’s all.” he gave a penetrating gaze towards the biker, as his theme music buzzed with suspense and suspicion.
Sweat beaded on his brow, and he looked around suspiciously, and then whispered in a hoarse voice “Look, I’m not actually a biker. I’m actually an undercover cop. The department loaned me the bike. I actually don’t know a thing about fixing them. Don’t tell anyone about this or it may cost me my life.”
“No need to fear, my good man. Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t dream of putting an officer of the law at risk. Indeed if there is any way I could expedite your passage I am at your service. If you wish, my limo is at your disposal.” He swept a bow.
The officer visibly relaxed then chuckled “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I mean riding up to the bar I’m going to in a limo would be suicide. Besides, who knows what they would do to your ride. You’ll want to steer clear of that area. They don’t take kindly to rich snobs on their turf.” A roar of the engine could be heard. “Wow, she really does work fast”
Angie was back and crouched over the bike. “Everything seems to be in order mister.” She wiped her hands off before heading back to the limo with her tool bag.
“Look, I owe you guys one. Just look me up at the PD if you need anything. Just ask for Decker.” He jumped back on his bike and was on the rode again, quickly disappearing from view.

Summary: Meet and fix Decker’s bike. (Connection Ad from level 6)

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse looks up, shouting so that Nosferatu can hear him from on top of the vehicle. "I don't think that's a problem, it looks like our celebrity heroes from the mayor's speech are offering their assistance to the national guard."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu hops across the truck and swings into the rear compartment with the other, so not to be overheard by Green.

"Yeah. Hey, in case I forget, remind me to tell them about the meeting tomorrow. Things will run smoother if we get everyone involved at ground level"

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu sits for a few more moments of silence. Green must have dropped the speed approaching the base, the last stretch seems to have taken forever. Then again, any amount of time spent immediately before bringing a reformed mass murderer to a potentially hostile army base would seem like an eternity. After the thoughts that plagued his mind earlier, Nosferatu feels compelled to talk to Reaper. Perhaps he holds some secret that could prevent others from collapsing into the dark chasm of insanity opened by the chance for super human powers.

"Hey Reaper. If we are going to talk to these guys and the Mayor, we should probably know a bit more about you. What made you kill in the first place? What made you try and seek the redemption you are persuing now? I know this is not the easiest or simpliest conversation, but better to find out now than in front of judge, jury and executioner."

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper sits silently for a moment, trying to collect the memories that he had managed to piece together, bit by bit, from his own shattered mind. He says, "I remember little from before my transformation. I believe my mind was shattered by the explosion, and I have lost my memories of my previous life bit by bit, like sand pouring from a broken hourglass. My first victims were my parents, when I was very young. I had nearly died in my sleep, and I felt like..." He pauses, grasping both for words and for memories. The fog lifts slightly; he continues, "like I owed Death a debt that had to be paid. I had lived, and I had to repay that gift. I remember little after that, only that the debt was never paid, never satisfied. From my memories from just after the explosion, I believe I was some form of hired killer. Then I was changed, and at last I had the power to pay my debt in full. That first night I went on a murderous rampage, slaughtering dozens of innocents. But the debt was still owed, and so I tried to kill the mayor. I thought that perhaps his death would be worth enough to settle my debt."

"But then, I failed. I had never failed before, never failed to kill anyone that I had tried to kill. Then I saw clearly how many lives I had claimed, and I saw that the debt would never be repaid in blood. If death could not settle the debt, perhaps life could. And so now I sit here, trying to figure out why I survived, and what to do with the life I was given." He then stops for a moment, deep in thought. He says, "I think my life was wasted until now. That is why it is gone. All of it is gone, save the shattered remnants of my crimes. Everything else is gone." He then says, in a barely audible whisper, "Even my own name."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu sits in silence for a moment. He did not know what to expect… but this was on an entirely different scale from what he anticipated. It was not just someone who murdered for greed or vengeance, it was like a character from an RPG who killed to appease their dark god. And to later find that the god never existed…

To exist in a reality based on such a grand delusion would drive almost anyone insane. And yet, now he seeks redemption. He has lost everything from his previous life. Surely his previous identity would be marked dead or missing with no-one to claim it. It is almost as if his slate was wiped clean in the explosion, only to be stained once again by the murders that took place later that night. Nosferatu was stunned by the dark deeds of the figure speaking to him, and yet, there was a small part of him that was glad that the man was not made a killer by the explosion, but rather it set him onto the path of good. Well, ‘good’ might be a tad strong at this point. At least he has not attacked anyone since they met…

Nosferatu tries to ensure that his voice is steady before speaking again.

“I hope you can find the redemption you seek. At least now you are on the right path. I don’t know how anyone else will react to your moral 180, but as long as you have been telling me the truth, I will try and help ensure you get the opportunity to prove yourself. Who knows, you might just get the chance to save the world some day.”

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

Coming back upstairs from the light meal Jason could feel his strength regaining. He was noticing weird changes around him, little things mostly. He knew where he was all the time, could 'see' it without looking. And when he did look Jason could see things he'd never noticed before. He could see the light coming out of the window all the way down the hall, he could see the doctor's face through the respirator mask. Every so often he'd look at another patient and get the chills, but somehow different. He could see anything he wanted. And it was amazing.

On his way back Jason stopped at a certain door, another chill moving through his body. He tried to focus, specifically on the door, and everything behind it slowly became clear. Inside a man... more of a monster... lay on the single bed, its blue skin and malformed head gurgling as it struggled to breath. The many bending tentacles shifting from its body moved methodically on their own. Jason quickly pulled back, the image stuck in his head.

He finally returned to his room from just looking around. The nurse walked over to him right before he entered and he quickly pipped up before she had the chance. "What happened to me? What happened to everyone? ... What's going on?" but by the time he asked, hundreds of possible explanations flooded his mind.

Summary: Trying to move my character into the acceptance stage of it all before trying to react externally with other PC's. :smallsmile:

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "It's interesting... the change has also affected my attitudes. If you'd asked me a week ago what kind of super character I would have turned into, I would have said a rather self-absorbed one. Yet I find myself out there, trying to do the right thing... caring where I never cared before."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

"I guess there are people who feel that when gifted with such power, they should use it to help others. Like with the fire, I suppose any of the supers could have trained to become a fireman to help people in that situation before the explosion. Of course, there would surely be others who could be better at it than you. But when you are one of the few who have these kinds of powers..."

Nosferatu trails off, struck with the realisation that he could have done so much more to help others in his 'previous life'. But was it the new powers and the capability for improving the world that drove him now, or was Pulse right, and the chemicals had changed his brain?

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shrugs, "I once heard the saying, 'Opportunity makes the thief, an honest man is one who has had no chance to steal.' But I don't know if that is true or not... it does seem that the opportunity provided by this power has motivated some to good, and others to evil, but how much of that good or evil was in the person before, it's hard to say."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

"Huh. Good saying. Of course, by that logic there would be at least one altered robbing a bank right now. And we have not heard anything like that. Well, unless they were able to use their powers to disable or bypass every guard and every security system. Or control the guards to do it for them... or melt their way in through the back... or leap from shadows inside the vault... or teleport... or just tear the vault from the building itself..or...

You know, thinking about it now, the banks really aren't prepared for something like this. We should check around later on. The variety of methods used might make a good acid test for how many altered have become criminals."

Nosferatu once again starts to stroke the beard area of his mask in thought.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "A lot of institutions aren't prepared to deal with our kind." He pauses suddenly, as if considering something. "Even the non-legal kind..."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu pauses for a moment, then replies.

"Heh. You said that as if someone might... Wow. No way. Are you thinking that someone may have taken the vigilante thing to the source, and gone to slaughter the criminal leaders of the city? Does this city even have underground criminal organisations?

If thats so, what do we do? Warn them? I guess a warning seems misplaced, but if someone decided to go judge jury and executioner on the crime of the city, it could be bad for the entire situation. It will be much worse if they kill and innocent by mistake..."

Nosferatu gives out a sigh.

"Well, I am sure the police will have anticipated it, and know what to do. Hopefully."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shakes his head, "Actually, I was thinking of the gangs... then again, considering the areas they spend time in, it's likely several gang members were actually in the blast... it's interesting, I wonder what gifts they received and if it changed the balance of power between the gangs."

[Gnomish Wanderer]

OOC I'm going to try and get in another post! Huzzah!
Jason

The nurse began to speak, but Jason had his own thoughts to worry about. With every unsolved question there just came more. He needed out of here, needed to clear his head.

"Excuse me." he said loudly enough to cut the nurse off. He entered his room and looked around for what he could gather. His clothes, the ones he remembered wearing, were in the closet. He tossed them on and reached in his pocket. Sure enough, the sharpie was still there.

Jason quickly went to the pillow and drew the figure, the two intersecting ovals. They had always made him feel comfortable, made him feel like he belonged somewhere, and he needed the feeling now more than ever. Whatever was going on, Jason didn't want to become one of those freaks downstairs, those lonely friendless monsters with no one in the world. He would go back home, go back to his family even, but he wouldn't stay here.

Jason quickly left, again ignoring the nurse as she attempted to speak to him. He took the stairs, couldn't stand just watching these sickening images while trapped in the small elevator. When he touched the front door he practically burst out, the sweet freedom just within his reach. He started walking home.

Summary: Got my character out of the hospital, and now will wait to see who or what he comes across on the walk home. :smallbiggrin:

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu looks a bit caught off balance as his musings turn out to be completely different to what Pulse was considering.

"Huh. I guess that could make things interesting too. I can see the altered heavy gang rising through the ranks of Rainport gangs. I suppose the best case scenario is that every gang is too scared of what the other groups might have in the way of super powers, and violence will die down. More likely is the chance that the toppling of the hierarchy will create a power vacuum, and every low level thug will be making a scramble to establish power. Argh, there are too many factors involved. It would take some kind of super genius to figure this out."

A meaningful look is sent the way of Pulse.
After another moment of thought, Nosferatu looks to the shadows.

"Hey Reaper, I don't suppose you have had any contact with the gang element of Rainport on your travels, have you?"

[geez3r]

Andrew/Vox Populi
{Wasn't his name Anthony at the beginning?}

The Mayor answers "We captured and then lost him. Last night when he was recovering in the hospital, he was expressing what was believed to be genuine remorse for his actions. We sent in Dr. Fritz, a respected psychologist, to determine his mental stability. While she was interviewing him, several of the lights were broken, and the Reaper escaped in the shadows. We believe either the Reaper had outside help, or somehow convinced Dr. Fritz to help him. Dr. Fritz disappeared from the scene as well, but from her notes we found at the scene, it is apparent that she believed that the Reaper had a change of heart, but is still not mentally sound. Since his escape, there have been no more bodies recovered that bear his MO. So we believe that he is lying low for the time being."

The Commisoner then speak up: "We have been tossing around the idea of bringing in a special task force designed to combat any that would use their mutations to harm the general public. The main problem with this plan is that we don't really have the resources or the know how to do implement such a plan. In the mean time, I think a suitable alternative would be to go over the roster of those that have registered with the Police. Those that willingly came forward and exposed themselves to the Police, are most likely trust worthy individuals or at least they have a sense of civic duty and the difference between right and wrong. And to express a view that should never be made public: if a few of those that volunteer their services to the Police were to die, then it would be a few less mutants we have to worry about running around."

There's a few muttered agreements, though the Mayor looks like he doesn't really want to agree with that kind of thinking, but he just might have to in the given situation.

Pulse/Nos/Reaper

Green says "This is normal since today, but normal today was unheard of 2 days ago so..." He drives you into camp, and stops at one of the abandoned hangars, "We're here. Follow me." He leads you into the hangar, opening one of the giant sliding metal doors with a code. Inside there is what appears to be fairly large square cage, roughly 20ft to a side. It appears to be made of standard chain link fence. Off to the side is what appears to be a generator of some sort with what may very well be jumper cables clipped onto a side of the cage. There are a total of 9 lights directly above the cage, in a 3x3 set up, that look a lot like spot lights; the middle one is turned off, and as such the dead center of the cage is a little shadowy. There's 12 guards in the room, 3 to each wall, each of them have a few grenades and a machine gun of some sort on them, as well as a side arm. They tense up a little when you enter the room. "Not exactly high tech but it's the best we could do on such short notice." says Green with a shrug.

"Alright Reaper, if you were true to your word, please go into the cage. You will not be harmed unless you first try to harm us, or try to escape; in which case you will be met with lethal force.”

Kid Zeus

After a bit of showing off, the guy ends his song. "Dude, like I was good at playing before man, but like, I've gotten sooo much better since the boom, man. I don't like even need and amp now. Dude, and check it." The rocker plays a heavy power cord and the air around him seems to.... shake is the best word for it, and then he's airborne. As he's laughing, apparently very pleased with himself, a police squad car rounds a corner with its siren and lights on. The officer gets out of the car and while pointed at the rocker says "Oy, you with the guitar up there. We've been getting complaints about the noise, and we've got more important things to worry about than some punk who thinks he's got talent. So do us all a favor and go home and practice in your parent's garage."

A scowl, and smirk cross the rocker's face "I got a better idea, how about you walk home?" The rocker plays a complex riff and when he hits a crescendo, the volume gets wickedly intense, and the same shaking you saw earlier makes a b-line for the cops car which suddenly has all it's window's shatter and the top crumples in.

Legion

You start monolouging, and as you reach for your gun, the leader yells: “Open Fire!” {surprise round}

Shots are fired in a rapid succession, and you soon find yourself resembling swiss cheese {35 damage}. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to threaten police officers who had their guns drawn while obviously going for your own.

Your other clones hear the gunshots, and so do the guards you were holding hostage. The last one captured says ”Get him!” and they rush their lone captor in the deposit room, who never bothered to restrain the guards in any way and try to tackle him to the ground. With his police training, the guard rushes you, and easily takes you down, knocking the gun out of your hand



attack and damage rolls (1d20+8=13, 2d6+2=9) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424656)
attack and damage rolls (1d20+8=18, 2d6+2=6) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424659)
attack and damage rolls (1d20+8=17, 2d6+2=12) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424661)
Guards' Initiative (1d20+6=25, 1d20+6=21, 1d20+6=20) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424671) {This is for the guards outside}
Guards' Initiative (1d20+6=24, 1d20+6=14, 1d20+6=9) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424750) {This is for the guards inside}
Legion Initiative (1d20-2=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424688)
Touch attack (1d20+7=21) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424814) {to start grapple, hits}
grapple check (1d20+11=26) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424825) (guard’s}
grapple check (1d20+1=12) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1424834) {Legion’s opposed}

Attack and Damage rolls (1d20+8=13, 2d6+2=9, 1d20+8=27, 2d6+2=7, 1d20+8=25, 2d6+2=10) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1426531) {Guards again outside in First round}


Davan/Joe

Joe springs down and shoots one of the thugs in the back with a shotgun {you forgot this bit: crit confirmation (1d20+11=20) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1426542), success} and the thug looks really hurt. The same thug that just got shot pulls out a cell phone/ walkie talkie thing and says "Boss, team A needs some serious help, there's 2 of em." His buddy mean while continues the assault on Davan, but he is obviously concerned for his friend's well being and gets really sloppy with his attacks. Attack and damage rolls (1d20+8=9, 1d8+6=8, 1d20+3=4, 1d8+6=11) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1426554) {Fricken natural 1, twice!}

Davan then goes ahead and cleans up the Thug on the phone (still alive just down for the count) and thwacks the other one pretty hard.

New round

The Man

You set off on the road again, and eventually get to Bob's Sammiches. You get quite the weirdest collection of looks ever assembled by man kind as you walk into a the local deli in full "super hero" get up. At least 2 people who were about to take a drink are now pouring their beverage all over their lap without noticing it in the slightest. From behind the counter, the infamous Bob says "Ummm... uhhh... What'll it be partner?"

Jason
{hrmmm... what shall it be.... 1d6=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1426601)}

You get to about the end of the walkway for the hospital before you hear a bit of a whooshing sound before there is suddenly a nurse standing in front of you. She looks quite young, and has her black hair in a bun; her name tag says "Jen". Standing there with her arms folded she says "Well Jason, care to explain why you wanted to leave so desperately?" She sounds a lot more curious than overbearing.

Murky

After considering for a moment the shop keeper says, "Tell your friend to be here at 11 pm sharp, and to bring the cash. I don't care what he needs we'll have it. Now that that's out of the way, let's finish our own business." After scouting the area again he reaches under the counter and pulls out a deadly looking revolver (unloaded) and sets it on the table. "That right there is a 50 cal. Not a damn thing'll stand up against that sucker, but it'll set ya back 3k."

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper calmly steps forward and enters the cage, steping into the patch of shadow swiftly. He then says, "I will not try to harm you or your men, and I promise not to try to escape unless you start shooting at me without provocation. I assume that's a reasonable condition."

He stretches, then turns to Nosferatu. "Now that you mention it, one of my associates is planning on taking out a gang leader named D-Train. A group of his goons mugged him, and we managed to subdue one and question him. It was originally scheduled for tomorrow, but we might have to postpone, do to present circumstances. After everything that's been on the news, any criminal would think twice before messing with me, and with D-Train brought into custody by yours truly, well, let's just say gang recruitment would take a nose dive."

[Xerxes Shadow]

Joe Quick-Draws his swords and proceeds to slice 'n' dice the thug he hit in the back.

Attack 1- [roll0]
Attack 2- [roll1]
Damage 1- [roll2]
Damage 2- [roll3]

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus



After a bit of showing off, the guy ends his song. "Dude, like I was good at playing before man, but like, I've gotten sooo much better since the boom, man. I don't like even need and amp now. Dude, and check it." The rocker plays a heavy power cord and the air around him seems to.... shake is the best word for it, and then he's airborne. As he's laughing, apparently very pleased with himself, a police squad car rounds a corner with its siren and lights on. The officer gets out of the car and while pointed at the rocker says "Oy, you with the guitar up there. We've been getting complaints about the noise, and we've got more important things to worry about than some punk who thinks he's got talent. So do us all a favor and go home and practice in your parent's garage."

"Oh man, that is nuts." Kid Zeus said, grinning, as the guy showed off. He simply floated there as the air seemed to shake around him and he let out an impressed Keanu Reeves impression as he looked around himself, trying to decipher exactly how he was doing it. It looked like the rocker could actually super-amplify the sound waves coming from his guitar so much that they could actually be used to affect solid objects. He didn't even need an amp! He could just pick up and play anywhere! That was so cool! Kid Zeus had an electric at his house but had never gotten around to learning how to play more than a few chords. He loved going to rock shows and hearing bands play, though. This guy sounded like he could easily start up his own group and head straight to a world tour if he wanted to. However, it was that point when the party got crashed by a black and white.


A scowl, and smirk cross the rocker's face "I got a better idea, how about you walk home?" The rocker plays a complex riff and when he hits a crescendo, the volume gets wickedly intense, and the same shaking you saw earlier makes a b-line for the cops car which suddenly has all it's window's shatter and the top crumples in.


"Ah man...party's over...well, whaddya gonna do, right, d-" Kid Zeus was in the middle of saying when the guy suddenly hit another chord and the police car reacted as if Titan had just stepped on it. "WHOA! Hey, man, time out! Stop! Kid Zeus yelled, floating over to suspend himself in the line of fire between the rocker and the destroyed cop car.

"Hey man, I can't let you do that. That's a police officer! Do you have any idea how much trouble you are going to put yourself in? Calm down, okay? If you stop now and apologize we might be able to get you off with some kind of fine that doesn't deserve jail time, okay? Like destruction of private property, you can deal with that, right? We can find someplace else to rock out, alright? Like the stadium! How cool would that be? But if you keep attacking that police officer I'm not going to be able to help you!" he said, trying his best to be diplomatic. So far Kid Zeus had only displayed his ability to fly, keeping the aura of lightning that had been surrounding him earlier down so as not to alarm anyone. Now he was keeping it in reserve in case the rocker decided to snap a string and start blasting everything. He'd have to take the guy down quick or there could be a lot of damage. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that. The metahumans should be working together to help people, not fighting amongst themselves! Or at least, that's what his rosy notion of things was.


Diplomacy: 1d20+8=28 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1426724)
Oh yeah! Nat 20! Slightly disappointed that fighting might be delayed, but this would be one of those decidedly in-character moments for Kid Zeus!

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods as Reaper steps forward into the cage. He turns to Corporal Green, "Reaper has been cooperative, please don't turn on that central light, unless, as you say, your men are threatened. Bright light can be very painful to him." He looks around, "Not a bad setup for such a short time period, so... how long do you think we might have to wait for the mayor?" He sets his flyer case down and looks the setup of the cage over slowly, are the cables from the generators powering the lights, or meant to directly electrify the cage?

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu stares around the room for a moment as they enter. And the men, with the guns. Lots and lots of guns...
Being resilient is one thing, but he would still end up like a termite infested bit of wood.
Oh, and grenades. Lets not forget the grenades.

An evaluation is made of the cage. Lighting there, but the walls are a bit flimsy. Ah, but they are connected to a...

"Say, are those electrified walls?"

Nosferatu turns to Pulse with a mildly smug look upon his face.

As Reaper walks into the cage, Nosferatu slowly and carefully places his sword back in his back scabbard. After hearing Reaper, he turns to speak to him again.

"So, you actually caught this guy, or is it still in the planning process. And I have to ask, with your reputation, who is your 'associate'?!"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper answers, "We haven't caught D-Train yet, just one of his cronies. The operation to take him down was scheduled for tomorrow. And I believe Pulse knows my associate, the young man with the katana and the jumping powers. Joe. He probably isn't exactly a girl scout, but he's no, well, me."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods, "I've met him... I guess he got over having his life threatened by you."

[PlasticSoldier]

Guard: -14 +1 = -13/21 Drill: 21 +2 = 21/21 Orig: 42+2 = 42/42

Josh? Orig. thinks to Guard before waiting a second... Then he loads his rifle and steps out of the office "YOU TRIED TO KILL ME DROP DEAD!" He then shoots at the leader and runs back into the room.

Drill Clone continues the grapple and says to the guy he's grappling with right after Orig. shoots at the guy. "That shot was mine. And the target is on your side." He then spits in the guy's face, just to annoy him.


Attack & Damage 1d20+1=9, 2d6=9 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1427193)
Drill Clone's comment and spitting in his face is supposed to be a Demoralize Opponent use of Intimidate so [roll0]

Future Actions:
Drill is going to keep doing grapple stuff.
Orig. is going to crawl out the hole I cut and then run around the building to the front and try to flank them.

P.s. Tell me if/when I realize that Guard isn't dead.
Also can you tell me...
Whether gunfire in this area in the middle of the night is unusual.
Unusual enough to call the cops.
Average Police Response Time?
And How much ammo I have.

[Nelphine]

After considering for a moment the shop keeper says, "Tell your friend to be here at 11 pm sharp, and to bring the cash. I don't care what he needs we'll have it. Now that that's out of the way, let's finish our own business." After scouting the area again he reaches under the counter and pulls out a deadly looking revolver (unloaded) and sets it on the table. "That right there is a 50 cal. Not a damn thing'll stand up against that sucker, but it'll set ya back 3k."

"3 G's?? After our last little arrangement I looked up how much this piece should have set me back; you overcharged me by like 1200 dollars! I'm not paying 3 G's for no bloody revolver!" With that Murky shoots the man in the arm. "Now call your boss and tell him we have to meet now! Don't mess around with me!" Murky aims the gun at the man's face, waiting for the phone call.

[roll0] (presumably a flat footed shot on an apparently unarmored man.. hopefully I can hit him) [roll1] damage, which hopefully doesn't kill him. If I need intimidate or bluff rolls or anything, go ahead and roll them for me.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

An expression of shock crosses his face quickly as the katana-wielding man slices into the downed thug

good gods that was brutal. The guy probably couldn't even get up...this guy's either ruthless, or blood-crazed. I'd better watch my back when this is done with...he looks fairly skilled with those blades. As for the shotgun...pfeh! Real fighters don't use guns...I mean come on? Anyone can pull a trigger...doesn't take any discipline or anything.

Davan lets the aura power down, and flows into a double strike against the thug left standing, taking care to keep from causing any lasting damage-evidently trying to keep one of them alive at the least.


full attack, (1d20+10=29, 1d20+5=10) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1427509)
subdual damage rolls (1d8+5=7, 1d8+5=10) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1427513)

not maintaining aura, 74/78 pp

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Ensconced in the dry heat of his office on the second floor of the Fermi building, Professor Lachlan Dark brooded.

There was no measure of humanity which now applied to him. In every sense he had moved beyond the mortal and was now something for which no appropriate human word existed that was not drowned in myth. Titan, djinn, demon....

If by some magic this has all transpired a few thousand years earlier his immortal coutenance would be stamped onto all the currencies of the world. An eternal god-emperor ruling over the ant-like race of man. But not even Dark had the liberty of chosing the world into which he was born or the circumstances of his assent.

And so he was a professor in an age of nuclear weapons, at the dawning of space exploration, when being handy with a sword simply didn't cut it and solving universal mysteries got you half an hour on Larry King and the lead story in British broadsheet newspapers for one day.

He had always wondered, in the comic book stories he had read as a boy, why it was that so many people were determined to blow up cities. At what point did being a cackling master criminal become a viable career choice for these people? There was simply no logic behind it. Still, Dark had to admire the kind of tenacity that brought these beard-stroking loons back again and again to court destruction and defeat.

But what were his ambitions? He had already advanced as far in his career as was possible. Would he spend the next twenty years teaching until it became too obvious that his face had not aged and then would he vanish... and do what? And in any case it was only a matter of time before he ran into some academic who knew him from MIT; they would immediately see he was changed. Or he would make some discovery and his picture would appear somewhere, an unimaginative reporter would find his high school year book.

Anonymity was not practical. Eventually, unavoidably, his super powers would be known. He could not keep that secret.

So whatever his ambitions were, he would have to pursue them publicly.

He pressed the speakerphone button and dialed the number he found online. After a few rings someone answered.

"Good afternoon," he replied. "My name is Professor Lachlan Dark, I'm Head of Applied Mechanics at The Randoph Insitute of Technology. I am an unregistered mutant and I would like to be interviewed live by a member of your evening news team. I have a lot to say and I have exclusive details about the explosion in Rainport today which are not known by the police... Of course I'll hold, I'll give you 30 seconds before I look for Larry King's number".

[Glawackus]

[[Was it? I'll have to go back and take a look. I think it's been Andrew.]]

Andrew/Vox Populi

"Gentlemen, I've always had Rainport's interests at my heart," Sellars says, looking around the table. "I may not be able to fly, or breathe fire, or any of that sort of thing, but I love this city. I'd like to be...not so much a tactical leader as a go-between...that protective shell of plausible deniability we all love so much." Sellars folds his hands and looks around the table. "If you would have me, I would prefer to use some kind of...false identity, of course. And this would have to be somewhat...under the table."

OOC

Andrew is going to try to get himself appointed to assemble the team, and if the guys at the meeting won't take him, he'll try and use telepathy or his charismatic aura to persuade 'em.

Diplomacy roll, if you want it:
[roll0]

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

Without an alarm to wake her... and after a remarkably good night, Tasha slept fairly well. It was as if a weight was taken off of her, and it wasn't until a pressing need to use the bathroom woke her, that she felt the need to leave her nice comfy bed.

Getting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed... she saw Draven through bleary eyes, just one bed over. None of it had been a dream. All the insane and bizarre things that had happened last night had really happened. She briefly mused over the idea of looking in on whatever dream he might be having, but decided against it. The boy deserved his privacy... and she was going to stay out of his head until he asked her otherwise.

Instead, she rose and ventured off to use the bathroom and clean herself up a bit. Without a hair or toothbrush, she still felt a little grungy... but a nice warm shower was just what she needed. Luckily, the place had shampoo... and enough for her impressive length of hair. That made her feel considerably better, despite having to climb back into the same clothes as last night. When she stepped out of the shower, she heard Draven up and about in the main room. She dried off as best she could, and wrapped a towel around herself. She usually threw one around her hair... but at the moment, she had only one, and that would mean walking out to collect her clothes from by the desk entirely in the nude... and even she wasn't that big of a tease.

Good morning. She said, slipping over to the desk and doing her best to collect her clothes without flashing anything. Give me just a second.

With that, she slipped back off into the bathroom to change... re-emerging with her hair bound back in a long, wet pony-tail and her club outfit from last night on again. She sat down on her bed, and smiled... as she began to pull on her boots.

I don't know if you had anything planned... but I need to get back to my dorm eventually to finish a paper. Apparently the dawn of a new age of man isn't quite enough for them to call of my political science class. She said with a soft laugh. You're welcome to come by if you like.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu wanders about, doing a loose circuit of the cage. It does not seem the sturdiest, but then again, the wall of light is whats meant to be keeping him in. Well, at least stop him from escaping while the surrounding army staff fire round after round into his shadowy body.

It is not a pleasant thought.

The path takes him to the far side of the hangar, from which he can see the other two mutates going to town on the tarmac. A mental note is made to offer to help when this meeting with the mayor was over. At least one of the supers looks across to see Nosferatu. It almost looks like he is about to say something, but gets caught up in the pattern of work with his partner. Well, if using their powers is as tiring as flight, they would have to stop eventually. The various altered would have a chance to chat then and hopefully there would not be any trouble when they saw the Reaper was here.

Slinking away from the entrance, Nosferatu returns to the cage. Looking it over, a thought springs to mind.

"Hmm. Reaper, I heard you got out of a smiliar cell before. How did you manage that?"


OOC: geez3r, is the mayor going to have to finish in the other posts before coming here, or can he 'be in two places at once' due to the time distortion in forum posting? I guess me and Pulse will be waiting in the base for him to arrive.
Anyway, Nosferatu is talking to Reaper at the moment, but will go introduce himself to the other mutates if he hears the construction die off.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper pauses for a moment at the unpleasant memory, then says, "The good doctor Fritz broke me out, and then vanished herself, using some form of teleportation power. I would rather have stayed if I could have kept her there. I looked into her eyes and I saw the eyes of a killer, the eyes that had stared back at me from the mirror all my life. I fear what she might do if she remains free. I want you to promise me that if the mayor decides I am to be imprisoned or executed, you will bring her to justice. I would not die knowing that she was still loose in the world."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse turns when he hears Reaper, "This Dr. Fritz let you go?" He frowns, "Interesting..."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

"So she broke you out... and you think she is a killer based on the 'look in her eye'. I am familiar with the playground laws of "takes one to know one", but are you completely sure about that? But I guess it would be worth keeping an eye out for her, seeing as she broke a super powered murderer out of his cell and all.

Pulse, where do you know this Dr Fritz? And any idea what she looks like?"

OOC:
By all means, just say '...describes Dr Fritz' if you want to avoid long blocks of text. Just trying to gather info IC

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper say simply, "Yes. I know." He tries without success to suppress the memory of her soulless eyes. Finally, after a moment's silence, he whispers, "I know."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shrugs, "I've never met her, but Reaper has met her, naturally... what does she look like?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper describes Fritz.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse shakes his head, "It's nobody I know... If she teleported, she must have been affected by the explosion and perhaps was changed by it." He frowns, "There are a lot of nasty ways that a teleporter could kill by stealth."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

"I will keep an eye out for her. Of course, if she can teleport on command, I doubt there is much I could do unless I caught her by surprise. I wonder what kind of teleportation it is. Could range from line of sight to anywhere around the globe..."

Nosferatu gives just a minor glance around the hangar, just in case.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

He was there, and they were together. Holding each other, her smooth dark hair under his fingers. They embraced, in the dimly lit room. Then behind him, the door swung open with a bang.

Over his shoulder, she saw who it was, and her body stiffened against him in mortal fear.

"I knew you'd come back", he heard that familiar dry ugly voice say from the shadows where her gaze was locked.

He swung around, but saw only yawning darkness where the door should have been.

It swallowed him whole.

He sat up violently in bed, cold sweat beaded on his brow, a howl of futile protest choked off in his throat. For a moment, he imagined the darkness had somehow followed him out of his dream, lingering in the air around him like tattered storm clouds, but when he looked again, he saw nothing there.

He got up quickly, dressing hurriedly, fragments of the dream still haunting him as he tried to organize his thoughts and decide how he wished to proceed.

As Tasha emerged from the bathroom just as he finished buckling his belt, giving him a quick greeting, he was almost caught by suprise, being so distracted. He did his best to give her a wide berth, doing his best to prevent accidental contact.

"A good morning to you as well" he managed distractedly.

How gorgeous she was despite being entirely unmade up did not escape his notice, as he tried unsuccessfully to not stare at her glistening skin and long dark hair...so reminiscent of hers.
He busied himself with buttoning his shirt, pulling on his gloves with some resignation.

That's as good a place to start as any. Perhaps with some research I may discover a way to control this...

By the time she had remerged from the bathroom, he was sitting crosslegged on the end of his bed, his his chin resting in his palm, staring a hole through the floor as he sat lost in thought.

He barely noticed that she'd returned, until she started talking to him, putting her boots on as she did so, her creamy white legs dissapearing into encasing black leather, the feeling of which, being entirely new, drawing him out of his revere soon enough to catch the last part of her friendly banter.

His brow furrowed a moment, as if in consideration, a thoughtful "Hmmmmm" punctuating the expression.

Then, looking up, his eyes sparkling with humor he said "My visiting you is inevitable, it's just a matter of when. So, lets not get too far ahead of ourselves." smirking sarcastically he continued "then, maybe when we get back to my car, you can give me the directions to your dorm...and I'll actually be able to write them down".

Taking her had to help her off the bed he said, "Now grab your coat and bag so we can be off. How does a cab ride back to the club sound?"

Walking out of the room, he slid into his coat and held the door for Tasha expectantly.

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

"Uh.. what? How in the world did you get here so fast? Never mind..." he replied quickly. "Where am I going, you ask? Huh..." Jason's mind drew a blank for about half a second. "Out. I gotta leave. I gotta think. And I'm definatly not gonna stay here and have a bunch of people try and tell me how to live my life, ok? So why don't you and your little friends and those freaks just butt out, alright?" He sighed and looked away, that same strange feeling coming to him from her. His eyes moved curiously at the building across the street, looking inside each room. He wished he could just escape into each one, get back to his own thoughts and away.

Summary: Conversation and roleplaying a low charisma! Yay!

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

Part One: the farewell

For Draven Glazing over a bit, so that we can get caught up with the going's on. If you have anything you wanted to do or say before I split off for a bit, we can backpedal a bit.

Passing up the chance for breakfast before she left... Tasha took a cab back to the club with Draven, as he suggested. Rooting through her car for a bit, she came up with a notepad and pen, and jotted down her cell number and how to find her dorm. # 113 in Harris Hall.

I'm sorry I can't stay around longer... but I need to get this thing finished... and it will give me time to think. She said to him, taking his gloved hand and pressing the paper into it. Call me whenever you like, alright? And maybe you can come by later tonight?

She stood awkwardly for a moment, looking at him intently.

This should be the part where I kiss him... She thought to herself, All last night too, actually...

She sighed softly under her breath, and instead slipped in and slid her arms around him... careful to keep to the parts of him covered by his coat. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. This was as close as she could get to him... and she was sure he knew it.

Be careful... alright? I've still got a bad feeling about this whole thing. Don't let anyone else know what you are, alright? I'm worried.... She pulled back and gave him one last deep, meaningful look before she slipped into her car and headed home.

---------------------------------

Part Two: Awwwkward...

Tasha cursed under her breath at her door... She jiggled her keys in the lock, finally getting the stupid thing unstuck, and headed inside.

Hey Tash. Said a familiar blonde girl, looking up from a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

Hey Heather. You're home early. How did things go with your mom?

She's alright. I left at like, ten... She said she didn't want me missing school just to be with her. Heather paused for a moment, before smiling and looking over Tasha's choice of wardrobe, So... You're dressed up. You weren't home last night... And are those your @#$%-me boots?

Oh shut up. Tasha said with a laugh, and slipped into a chair of her own... discarding her coat over the back of it, and started brushing out her long hair. It's actually not what you think for once.

No? Were you at the library all night or something?

No. I was out with a guy.

A throw pillow flew at her head.

But nothing happened! I'm serious! She said in protest, a smile across her face.

Uh huh... Sure. Heather gave her a sarcastic look and put her cereal aside. Nothing happened with... who?

Whom. Nothing happened with whom.

You know what I mean!

Tasha laughed at her light-heartedly, You know him... Draven... something or other. You know... the guy who tutored you last semester.

Draven?! I thought you didn't like rich boys! She said, looking equal parts shocked and confused.

I don't like SPOILED rich boys. He's nice. I invited him over later tonight.

Oh... She said, and perhaps a bit too quickly, changed the subject, Well... um. There's an assmebly going on at noon about the whole chemical mutant... thing. I'm going. I heard that there might be a mutant who goes to our school!

Do you think? Tasha said, trying hard to conceal her concern.

Yeah. I mean... the school is pretty big, and it's on the same side of town as the place that blew up... There has to be at least one.... right? It's creepy.

Yeah... creepy. You could be talking to one and not even know. She said, looking away to the small mirror on her dresser...

I know! It's crazy! Heather said, pulling on her shoes. I'm going to go and meet Nick and Jen. Want to come?

No. Thanks, but I have to get that paper finished. I'll meet you at the assembly.

Alright well... I'll see you later then! Heather said, pulling on her coat and hat and headed out... leaving Tasha alone.

She seems alright... I thought she'd be more upset about the thing with Draven... So why do I feel like something horrible is about to happen? She thought to herself, and then settled down to write her paper.

---------------------

Part Three: The Last Domino Falls

The assembly was a huge waste of time. Nothing but an hour of the Dean talking about how the school would stay open and how anyone who was at the blast, or knew someone who was at the blast, should come forward and cooperate with the police immediately. Fat freaking chance!

Afterwards, she went to lunch with Heather, Nick and Jen... and the commons were again filled with two dozen televisions all tuned to the news coverage of the "mutant issue". She didn't pay much attention, listening to her ipod and focusing mostly on her grilled cheese, until....

Check it out! A bunch of mutants are at a fire across town! Someone yelled a few tables over, Channel eleven!

Nick nudged her until she finally took out her earphones and listened. There was a camera-crew outside of the building, where it looked like a VERY large fire had broken out.

This is the scene at midtown today, where we can clearly see at least three... No wait! A fourth is arriving on the scene as we speak! the obviously harried reporter looked up into the sky, where a clap of thunder drowned out her voice for a moment, and a crackling figure in a black bodysuit with some sort of lightning pattern hovered down from above. A more amazing thing i have never seen!

The new mutant joined the others in the rescue attempt... while the reporters struggled to get a good view, held back by a score of the police force. They eventually gave up and went to speak with a young girl and her family outside the police line.

Superman saved me! She exclaimed in response to the reporters questions, and pointed up into the sky, Then he went back to help Miss Wentin... cause she's in wheelchair and she can't get away.

The story becomes more and more insane from that point on, as mutants of all ages and various bizarre costumes move about the flaming building pulling people to safety. One on a strange metal glider glides unsteadily to the ground, coughing and looking ill. One in white robes drifted in a window, and within moments, the fire was blown out of said window... leaving only smoking remains in part of the building. It was madness.

Maybe this isn't so bad. If there are so many of us... and people are doing good things with all their powers... well... Maybe this won't be so bad.

Then, it all came crumbling down. With a blast that knocked the cameraman to the ground... the building went up like a roman candle. The yells and screams could not be heard over the sound of the explosion... or the collapse.

Get up! Get up! Are you alright? The reporter could be barely heard over the sound of the collapsing building, and she was screaming. Finally, the cameraman got up, or rather, pointed the camera up, just in time to see the building come tumbling to the ground in a pile of rubble... spreading ash and smoke that made it hard to see.

What the hell happened?

A bevy of voices filled the room, but she stayed silent. Tasha already knew. Something horrible had happened... and there was nothing she could do about it... The rest of the report was a blur.

The police have no comment... but the blast was not one that could have been an accident. It was too perfect... At a level that only a demolition team could manage. What does this mean for Rainport?

That's what I'd like to know...

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

The return trip back to the club was pleasant enough, chatting and flirting back and forth, and sharing a few comfortable silences in between, as they shared the back of the cab.

Draven watched as subtly as possible as Tasha bent over to search through her glove box for a piece of paper, her skirt riding up more than he imagined she realized.

As she pressed the note into his hand, and she looked at him awkwardly, it occured to him that she was probably hungry, having not had anything to eat since the night before.

"I'll make a point of calling you tonight Natasha, and don't worry, your secret, as well as mine, will remain just that. There's a lot we still have to discuss..."

He accepted her hug, noting the pause and the way in which she executed it, stroking her hair and noting the careful way in which he held her, subconsciously knowing the merest slip might...might what?

He consentrated, and savored the moment, trying not to think about the strong similarites this moment held to...her and that particular night.

I'm stronger now than back then. But I know that I can't protect her all the time. To top it off, she's worried about me. How ironic is that? he thought to himself, listening to Tasha's warning with some amusement, but doing well to keep it off his face.

"Don't worry about me, you take care of yourself ok?" as she looked at him meaningfully, he nodded, and with a brief smile turned and walked off in the direction of his vehicle.

As he drove, he considered his options, deciding upon a course of action after a few moments thought.

***

Stopping by his apartment, he walked in, noting that everything was as he left it the day before.

I'm going to have to relocate soon, or at the very least, find a secondary location in case things get complicated. Preferably an unlisted address...hmmm, this is going to require some research.

Changing into a black fitted tank-top, matching dark grey cargo pants and bomber jacket, all of designer quality and design.

I'm going to run out of things that go with these gloves sooner or later. I'll have to figure out some way of dealing.
So, unless there happens to be a designer in town willing to do piece work, I just might have to outsource a project. Luckily, I have a little put away that should cover it.

Moving to his night stand, he picked up his medicine bag thoughtfully, putting it on and looking in the mirror.

He saw nothing but darkness.

Startled, he took a step backwards, staring in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on him.

What the..oh, right, how could I have forgotten so quickly? Almost like it's becoming second nature...almost.

He walked over to the wall, flipped a switch and illuminated the room.

As much as I love the snug cozy feeling these cold dank basement apartments give me, it's a little creepy how dark they are, even during the day.Although, I guess that's not going to be much of an issue anymore. It's not like I ever really had to worry about color coordination...

Cinching the leather thong so it hung like a choker, proudly, around his neck, he left, locking the door securly behind him, getting into his car and heading towards the blast zone.

Class work will have to wait, first thing I need to do is some serious research on my...condition...and I know just where to start. I hope they haven't expanded the quarantine zone.

He headed towards the book store, driving carefully but with purpose, taking back streets, but remained vigilant for anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

If any place in this entire town has any useful information about the changes that I've undergone, I'll find it there. Plus, it'll give me an excuse to have the store open for a few hours today before I go back out later this evening.

[Raven T.]

Alex

Alex felt a little remorse that he hadn't done much but work and relax at home, but he had become a recluse since Greg had died, refusing social interaction to be with his thoughts and dreams. He knew Judy would try her best to entice him to relax and enjoy life more. He enjoyed life just fine, though.

Picking his stuff up, he headed back to Frank's in preparation for his meeting with "The Man." It should prove to be...interesting, to say the least. Only time would tell what could and would happen.

(Like I said, writer's block. If anyone sees him, feel free to react.)

[blennus]

“The Man”

He leaned up against the counter in a casual fashion. “We’ll have one veggie combo for my assistant, and I’ll have the works, but go easy on the onions. By the way, you wouldn’t have any regulars that have been affected by the blast would you? I’m looking to hire certain types of mutants for a bar that I am starting, and was wondering if you could give me any leads.”

Summary: Order lunch and gather info concerning possible mutants for hire.

Gather Info: [roll0]

[geez3r]

RESERVED FOR DM USE

This will most likely be the last, or the second to last post of this year depending on how busy everyone is after the holidays. I got about 1/2 of the post done last night, but I was frankly too tired to finish it up, and I went to bed. This should be up sometime tonight, but before I do anything, I needs FOOD.

Pulse/Nosferatu/Reaper

Green and the other soldiers looks quite relieved when Reaper enters the cage. "We actually have the center light off, so he could stay in the cage without hurting him, the other lights are a kind of defense thing... sorta...." Green pulls out his watch "Ummm, I'm gonna go ahead and guess that the Mayor will arrive in about 25 minutes, but I'm just guessing honestly." To Nosferatu he says "Yep those are electrified, do your best to not stand to close, they may very well kill you. That generator was the only we could find on short notice, and it's damn powerful."

As the rest of you wander about and converse with one another, Green talks to a few of the guards for a few minutes (if anyone cares to eavesdrop, you'll learn about Green's 4 year old daughter, Maria and who got KP duty for a week for mouthing off).

{I'll have the Mayor appear in the next post}

Kid Zeus

The rocker glares at you for a moment before he hangs his head saying "Damn" He plays a quiet and slow riff and descends to the ground saying "Sorry dude, I'll fix it." to the cop. When he lands, he walks over the to the car and fiddles with the strings and pick ups on his guitar. He puts his left foot up on the hood of the car and he starts playing this kind of up beat blues thing. For a moment, nothing happens, but then slowly but surely some of the glass shards from the window start wiggling, and ever so slowly raise off the road. The roof starts to uncrumple slowly and the bits of glass start to reform the windshields.

After about 30 seconds, the car is fully reformed as if had never been touched. The rocker takes his foot off the hood of the car and starts walking towards the cop. You notice that his left hand is pretty bloody and there is even blood on the neck of the guitar. He repositions his guitar so it's on his back and digs in his front pocket and pulls out a prescription bottle and takes a pill or two before redepositing the bottle in his pocket and stands with his arms folded in front of the cop. "What now?" To which the officer responds "This." and whacks the rocker upside the head with his night stick, knocking the rocker flat on his back. "You punks are all the same, just because you got some goop on ya, you think you're above the law. Well guess what freak show, you're not. You assaulted a police officer and your ass is gonna fry."

Legion

{A dozen shots going off accompanied by a shouted death threat, followed by another, louder gun shot right outside a bank in the dead of night is pretty much in the realm of "What the *bleep* is going on? Call the cops." Especially for the liquor store clerk who is just down the street and has already had a guard leave their post in the dead of night to buy a ton of booze {which they could barely carry (your STR penalty) even though you would think police officers would be a bit stronger than that}. Especially when the clerks know that the shift change is soon, because they always see the truck pass by on its way to the bank. In fact, the clerk saw it pass by just a few minutes ago, and now suddenly gunfire is ringing out from the general direction of the bank. And especially in a city that just suffered a massive chemical explosion where random people were given the ability to defy the very laws of nature and as such it's citizens are in a heightened state of awareness. Yeah, a few flags went up just there. The cops should be there in like 5 minutes. You've got this many shots left: 3d6+5=18 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1434864)}

Your rifle shot goes wide. The 3 guards outside the bank check the life signs of the guy the just shot, and finding him dead, slowly move into the bank. Of the 3 inside, one of the guards darts off to the security room, definitely not intending to turn all of the cameras on so he can find where everyone is and rely that info to his buddies. The second one takes the Drill's gun and heads off to help topside. The final guard torques your arm probably a little more than was necessary after you spit in his face {5 subdual damage} though he does look a little concerned for the well being of his friends. But as he pins you to the ground, there’s really not all that much you can do.

The original makes it back to the room with the hole in it okay, but he knows that at least 1 cop isn’t too far behind him. The only reason that they haven’t caught up to him yet is they’re afraid of getting shot at again. He get’s about halfway through the hole when a voice over the PA says There’s a hole in the west side of the building, he’s climbing out right now. He’s got a van in the parking lot.


grapple check (1d20+9=22) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1436477) {guard}
grapple check (1d20+1=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1436479) (Legion)
You know what, I’ll speed this up: grapple check (1d20+1=12, 1d20+1=15, 1d20+1=3, 1d20+1=3, 1d20+1=11) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1436481) (Legion)
grapple check (1d20+9=23, 1d20+9=11, 1d20+9=17, 1d20+9=12, 1d20+9=19) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1436485) (Guard)
From the rolls above, and with no outside interference, he’ll pin you for this round and the next, you manage to break his pin and go back to the grapple stage, but you’re unable to break out of the grapple and he pins you yet again, where you stay.

spot check (1d20+7=24) (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1436496) Guard 1 seeing if he can find you on the camera’s some where, which he can.


Murky

The guy falls to the ground holding his now bloody arm and spewing an impressive collection of curses and insults at you. What grabs your attention however, is the comossion heard from….. downstairs? If you had to guess what it was, it kind of sounded like a large heavy box falling from a good size height. The clerk on the floor chuckles softly before passing out.

Davan/ Joe/ Thug

Joe dices up the downed thug, and his partner simply stands there, too stunned to move, and Davan takes advantage and knocks the guy out cold.

Paragon

An obviously stunned receptionist immediately puts you on hold. You listen to delightfully quaint elevator music for 17 seconds, until you are transferred to an important sounding person. The voice on the other end of the line says ”Proffessor Dark, are you still there? Good. I’m Theodore Wallace, I own the channel 4 news station, and we would be most honored to have a person of your stature appear on our program. Tell me, what times and conditions would be most convient for you, such as who the interviewer is?” He sounds like a reasonable man… who just got the story of the century thrown into his lap.

Andrew/Vox Populi

The Mayor speaks first, “Mr. Sellars, I have great confidence in you, otherwise you would not be attending this meeting, please understand that. But a project this grand in scale, I believe is quite frankly out of your league. In order to run a project of this size, someone would need decades of experience before even being considered. Your heart is in the right place son, and I commend you for that, but this is one thing you can’t do.”

The Man

Bob stares at your for a moment, before shugging and getting to work on making the sammiches. Over his shoulder he says ”Yeah one of my buddies, Tiny, worked down by the docks and got a bit o’ that goop on ‘im. He’s a good guy, and knows a bunch a other good guys. He’s probably hangin’ round dock 7 or 8… or was it 23…? I ain’t so hot with the numbers. That’ll be $8.50.” He says bringing the completed sammiches up to the counter.

Jason

The nurse touches your shoulder comfortingly. "Listen, there isn't a soul in there that is going to tell you have to live your life. But out of everyone on this whole planet, the people who have the answers you want are in that building. If this is something you want to do by yourself, and you want to turn your back on this place, then go ahead and pick a direction and start walking." She takes her hand off your shoulder and starts walking past you, when she gets level with you she says "Just... just do yourself a favor and know what you're walking away from, alright?" She continues walking towards the hospital, not looking back at you.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods to Corporal Green and Reaper and the others. "I think this has gone fairly well. I'm sure the mayor will be a reasonable man, Reaper. You've done some heinous acts, but I think redemption is something we should all be allowed to strive for."

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

At that very moment when the cop was standing over the dazed rocker, threatening him like a lowdown thug after the guy had not only apologized, but fixed the car, there was a deafening crash of thunder. If the police officer had forgotten that the teenage superhero was still hovering in the air above them, he was now being loudly reminded. A lightning bolt split the sky and impacted the ground right at the officer's feet, turning the pavement into so much hot tar, and Kid Zeus descended until he was floating just over the guy's head.

"Officer, what in the hell do you think you're doing? You are supposed to be a model citizen, an example to the people you are here to serve and protect, and you attack an obviously repentant person who was not offering violence? Your talk about 'freaks' in my presence notwithstanding, you're dishonoring your badge." he said the last through gritted teeth while his eyes jumped with buzzing electricity, his pupils becoming lost in the display of energy. The officer's behavior was affecting him more than it would have because the memory of his father as a policeman was something he held in very high regard. To have a moron like this crapping all over the department's good reputation was embarrassing.

"Now, unless you want this man to decide that apologizing and cooperating with the law was a bad decision and going back to destroying your car, you will help him up and apologize profusely. Then, we can all agree that this incident never occurred. Am I clear?" he said in a tone that brooked no argument. It was almost humorous to see a teenage kid talking like a disappointed father figure or older brother to a policeman who was easily ten years his senior, but there was nothing funny about the way electricity zapped and jumped from his buzzing, dangerous aura to the metal of the police officer's car or the look on Kid Zeus's face as he spoke.

1 PP spent for a lightning bolt. Um...and I'm not sure if I should be using Intimidate or Diplomacy for this one. He's appealing to the officer's better nature, but he's also being more than a little threatening. Maybe a synergy?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

Arriving at The Unsung Edition successfully, he parked in the private back parking lot and let himself in the back entrance, locking the door behind him.

Leaving the store locked up for the time being, as official store hours had not began as yet, he took his time checking over the reverence ledger, determining which titles would be most valuable to him in researching the current topic.

Yes, I think these will be quite insightful. I wonder what effect the current situation might have on business? We might end up getting a lot more traffic if there are other...what are we called anyway? Or, more importantly, what do I call myself now?...Well, if there are "others" out there that don't look to science as their first answer to all of life's mysteries.
Now, where did he put that original second printing of the Maelus? I know he has it around here somewhere...

After several hours, during which he gathered and poured through text after obscure text, taking notes as he did, Draven opened the store, but continued his "studies", expecting customer traffic to be light as usual. Although still somewhat disconcerting, he found that his newfound senses made watching the store, while doing what he loved, far more easy.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse walks over to Reaper in his cage and nods to him. "So, we should lay out what it is you wish to present to the mayor in your defense. First of all, there is your change of heart and desire to make up for your crimes. Secondly, there is the fact that you've turned yourself in and followed directions peaceably. Thirdly, that you were released by Dr. Fritz who is apparently a teleporter with the eyes of a killer... she may have wanted you at large to cover her own crimes. Fourthly, you participated in rescuing people from the burning building, one girl that we know of for certain, and did I hear someone say you may have found the person who set the blaze?" He pauses. "We may or may not want to emphasize that, because who set the explosives... that is something we don't know." He considers the list carefully, "Is there anything else you think you may wish to say?"

[Nelphine]

The guy falls to the ground holding his now bloody arm and spewing an impressive collection of curses and insults at you. What grabs your attention however, is the comossion heard from….. downstairs? If you had to guess what it was, it kind of sounded like a large heavy box falling from a good size height. The clerk on the floor chuckles softly before passing out.


"Goddang.. this thing really works..." Murky looks blankly at the gun in his hand. Had he really shot it?? Had he really shot that man? Yeah the guy was bad, but did he deserve to be shot?

He wasn't going to get a chance to figure that out now.. something big was downstairs. Maybe it was an alarm system. Or a bomb. Or maybe the guy behind the counter was just happy to finally be released from his terrible job.
Maybe he really was just an innocent!

Murky grabbed the revolver off the counter and jumped behind the counter to find hte phone. Crouched down, he dialed 911, listening for any more activity from below. As soon as someone answers he yells "I'm at Edgar's Pawn Shop, and someone's been shot! Please send help right away!!"

And then, with the realization that maybe you can't just shoot people, and the world isn't really that nice, and not everything will turn out well... Murky slips back into the shadow world. Everything goes grey again. The clerk can't see him, and can no longer try to hurt him. Whatever is down below won't surprise him.

He'd be ready. He'll survive. And maybe he'd even figure out a way to deal with this mess without getting killed by the Neo-Mafia.

Murky slides to the back of the shop, where he can see everything, and where there are plenty of shadows for him to flee into.

{OOC: call 911. go into shadow world so that nothing can affect me while waiting to see what happens next.}

[Raven T.]

Alex

Excerpt taken from a personal entry, Oct. 31, 2014...

The effects of this chemical explosion will be far reaching, indeed. What we DON'T know is why it affected different people in different ways. Perhaps it tapped into latent memories from our youth...or it brings the true us to the surface. Everyone puts on a mask; it's part of human nature to keep the outside world from knowing what we really think about things. It is a defense mechanism designed to both keep ourselves safe and to garner social acceptance. Mankind is a social animal and has been for the entire span of it's evolution. One of the first things that "smart man" learned is that there is survivability in numbers, not safety. Social interaction relieves stress accumulated during the day, from simple grooming by our ancestors to the online gaming and bull sessions between friends over expensive coffee.

But back to the subject at hand. I know from firsthand experience that I was, and still am, to a lesser extent, completely steeped in the mystique and overall atmosphere of the Star Wars movies and dragons in general. I have noticed that the powers I have developed are closely related to both...after all, what is a blast of concussive energy but Force Push/Slam? Corrosive acid is the famous breath typing of the Black dragon. Could these appendages be failed wings or homage to a villain who went down like such a [censored]?

If my theory is correct, we can extrapolate from there. I have met with "The Man," a singularly crude creature, dripping with machismo and chauvinistic attitudes. He believes he is the gods' gift to women and acts as such. Following this line of reason, this must be his inner person. What kind of weenie would he be when you strip away his powers?

The same can be applied to the Reaper. His dark, shadowy nature seems to be who he really is; there are many rumors that he worked as an assassin before the incident. I suppose some people are who they say they are, but why is he fighting himself, attempting to become an instrument of vengeance? The logic escapes me and perhaps my theory is flawed fundamentally. There is no accounting for the random nature in which the powers were distributed. I suppose I will have to wait until the time is right and I have access to the secrets behind the chemical to make my final decision.

Forces continue to move against me, though. Villains are moving faster than I had anticipated and the abundance of superheroes has me worried. They are pesky, rarely a threat to a supervillain's wellbeing, but enough to cause massive failures in their plans.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper says, "I believe that about covers it. I wish to thank you for everything you've done. No matter the outcome, you've helped me in more ways than you know. The same goes for you, Nosferatu. Thank you." This was it, then. Soon, he would come face to face with destiny. Would Death be waiting there to greet him, or would he be given a second chance to undo te atrocities he had committed? Only time would tell.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu gives a small bow at Reapers thanks.

"You are welcome. It is good to see you may receive the chance to redeem yourself. The question now is should Pulse and I stick around to see the Mayor? I suppose any major events back in the city would be reported here. Besides, I would like to see what the Mayor is planning and whether Reaper gets out or not. How about you, Pulse?"

[Glawackus]

Andrew/Vox Populi

"Thank you, Mayor. I understand," Andrew says, opening his mouth to try a more...powerful...touch, but then deciding against it.

Fine. They don't want me, is that it? Then I'll bring them to their knees until they beg for me to run the show.

Sellars leans back with a soft smile, and gets ready for whatever will come up next.

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods to Reaper, "If anyone deserves a chance at redemption, the only way it would work is if everyone deserves that chance." He glances at Nosferatu, "I'd personally like to meet the mayor, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly with Reaper here."

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

"Wh-What answers?" He asked slowly, stumbling over himself. She was practically telling him he'd never figure it out for himself. He moved slowly toward her, his mind swarming again. Who does she think she is? What does she want with me anyway?!? "Wait up for a second..." he said, trying to keep his voice from faltering. "What are... are you talking about?" He forced himself to speak calmly and curiously. Bluff Check [roll0] Edit: Wow that sucks... Guess she could tell he was hiding his anger.
He moved up next her, wondering if it was working. She doesn't know anything. She knows nothing about me or about anything! "I just want to know what's going on." Finally he reached out his hand slowly and touched her shoulder."Help me?"

He felt the surge of anger rush through him, adrenaline following. His hand felt hot and with a short flash he fell back, the world seemingly blackening out around him for a second. He regained his sight quickly and looked around frantically to see what had happened... what he caused to happen.
I'm thinking I'll take 10 on a touch attack to place my hand on her shoulder slowly, or even 20 if you think it'll be applicable. Then I'm going to try a cause blindness attack against her fort save.
Summary: Angry!

[dfpiii]

Paragon

An obviously stunned receptionist immediately puts you on hold. You listen to delightfully quaint elevator music for 17 seconds, until you are transferred to an important sounding person. The voice on the other end of the line says ”Professor Dark, are you still there? Good. I’m Theodore Wallace, I own the channel 4 news station, and we would be most honored to have a person of your stature appear on our program. Tell me, what times and conditions would be most convient for you, such as who the interviewer is?” He sounds like a reasonable man… who just got the story of the century thrown into his lap.

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Good afternoon Mr Wallace," Dark replies. "My terms are very simple. The interview needs to be live to air and at least five minutes long. If you want to go longer that's up to you. The questions are up to you too. I can't answer anything about confidential work being performed at the Institute for obvious reasons and I won't go into detail about my own abilities or demonstrate them on camera. I should imagine you have hundreds of hours of footage of people shooting fire, flying through the air and so forth".

"Also a car to pick to pick me up from work and take me home would be nice," he adds as an afterthought. "If you can agree to that, I'd like to go as soon as you can be ready. Tonight. Now. Whatever your schedule allows".

Dark wondered if he still had the songs from Wicked! stored on his phone. Popular... it's all about pop-u-lar. He smiled as he listened to Wallace's reply and felt the world tremble gently under his fingers.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion
The Unsung Edition

Listening to Mozarts 18th symphony, broadcast on NPR as it played in the background, Draven sat behind the book stores heavy dark-oak counter, surrounded by books, writing notes and flipping pages.

Continuing his research into the afternoon, his body now freed from the mortal demands for fuel and relief, he worked with diligence and great relish compiling a sizable amount of notation and reference on the subjects upon which he focused his efforts.
Namely, notable and credible accounts of psychic occurence and abberant biology in the human animal throughout history and up to present day. While at the same time, working to uncover any ties that each might have to the other.

Surrounded by a variety of books ranging from occult tomes to modern medical journals, he pondered the possibilities.

It seems clear that psychic expression has been occuring since the beggining of recorded history, as well as biological aberration. These things I knew.

The difficult aspect to pin down is that the relation between the two is tenuous, at best. Although the "savant", or even Stephen Hawkins, in their respective and different expressions of genius, could be considered an example, there's no obvious relation to great ability and aberrant biology. If it were true, Nikola Tesla would have been bedridden and deformed beyond belief.
By what I've found and know to be true, genuine psychic expression seems to be held more often by those of sound body, which the principles of chi manipulation and control would generally support.
Additionally, aberrant physical expression rarely is found to be beneficial.

In addition, strong psychic capability has manifested when an individual is exposed to a violent or emotionally charged event...what all this means for me I don't yet know.
What I do know is that my abilities seem to not only correlate with historical examples of psychic expression, but also with both my conscious and unconscious desires...and fears.
I must keep this in mind when next I speak to one of the affected as this may well be the key to unlocking my full potential.

Flipping to a clean sheet of paper, after reviewing his other notes, he wrote down the following.

At this juncture, there seems to be only one plausible conclusion.

The "powers" demonstrated by these Neo-Sapiens (as adequate a term as any) is an entirely new expression of psychic ability never before seen in recorded history, somehow unlocking the psychic capabilites as well as, or possibly just, the full genetic possibilites of each individual exposed to the agent or agents carried, spread, or caused by the explosion.

He sat back in the comfortable office chair, deep in thought.

While Natasha seems to have had no physical changes, I have witnessed my own on two occasions. It seems that physical manifestation is not necessarily universal.
If not for the size altering individual at the Mayor's speech, I would surmise that the physical aspects were merely a phantasmal side effect of true paranormal activity, but seems not to be the case.

More research in the field is obviously imperitive.

On a whim, he swiveled the chair, pausing a moment to enjoy the genius of the composition some things never change, before flipping the radio to a local news channel, hoping to perhaps catch news as to the current "Reaper" situation.

He listened intently as the reporter described, using over dramatic terminology and in almost a cheery tone of voice, the morbid scene of a building on fire, and the horrific effects it was having on the residents inside.

Then, Draven's interest matching the reporters enthusiasm, the young reporter went on to describe the Neo-Sapiens arriving on the scene, demonstrating a range of super-human abilities.

It would seem that many have quickly grasped and mastered their abilities, a notable accomplishment.

Although a tempting opportunity, I would rather avoid testing my powers in such an unstable environment. Not to mention that the media is present, in all likelyhood broadcasting on a national level. I would rather avoid so much exposure at this juncture,

Perhaps when I have gained a satisfactory level of control over my powers, and devised a sufficient disguise. Until then, I will have to act with extreme caution, using my powers only when necessary and prudent if I wish to avoid excessive Government interference in my affairs.

Half listening to the report as the heroic goings on continued, he contemplated his next step.

So many steps to take, so little time. Hmmmm...ah yes, perhaps there would be best...

Gathering the books together, and neatly filing his notes, he made ready to leave, as several blocks away, the unthinkable occured.

The deafing "Waathooom" of explosion after explosion could be heard over the radio broadcast. As pandimonium errupted, the exact situation became difficult to determine.
Whipping around to look at the radio, he listened in shocked horror and facination as one of the worst possible senario's he had considered occured.

The glass windows of the store rattled for several seconds as the sound reached across several blocks to his location, punctuating the immediacy of the situation.

Another explosion? The same as the first, or different I wonder? If the former, what does that mean?
Regardless, I dearly hope that it is not as bad as it sounds, because if so, it's only a matter of time before the witch hunt begins.

Deciding that having the store open for business was no longer prudent, he began locking up, carefully considering his plan of action.

[PlasticSoldier]

Drill: 21+2/21 (5 Subdual) Guard: ? Orig: 42+2/42
((So how are you calcuating PP's for this?))
((Also, how does fast healing affect sub-dual damage?))
((I have the Low-Light Vision and Quick Reload Feats))

Drill after a few seconds of struggling in silence asks the guy that's grappling him
"Don't you guys have a much more complicated system for dealing with hostage takers, or is shoot first what your trained to do? Because them attacking Guard was a really reckless move."

Orig. stops when he hears the PA announcement and runs back to the door turning the lights off (again), reloading, and waiting to the left of the doorway to shoot whoever comes in the room.


Move (Move Action), Turn lights off (? Action), Reload(Free action)w/Quick Reload, Ready attack (Standard Action) I assumed the lightswitch is right next to the door but if the architect is weird then assume I didn't turn off the lights.

I ready an attack against whoever comes in the door, and am spending 1 AP to boost it 1d6, so its a Natural 19 + My BAB (1).
1d20+1=14, 1d6=6, 2d6=9 (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1440046)

Also here's a hide check in case I'm not the only one who can see in the dark.
[roll0]

By the way if I don't use that attack will I have spent that AP or not?

[Wiz]

Excerpt from the research journal of Dr. Harold Smith...

So, perhaps we have one face of our researcher, protecting her experiment? Were Dr. Fritz's eyes the cold eyes of a murderer, as Reaper claims, or were they something similar that he's had little experience with... the cold, calculating eyes of a scientific zealot? One thing is certain, if Reaper's story holds any water, she has the power to teleport... or does she... perhaps, she rather has the power to move through time. I intuit that we have this grand experiment being conducted from a future date, but why would researchers risk their own time line against a possible change... unless they live outside of time, or unless all time lines can exist as parallel universes. There are some theories that multiple universes coexist and some forces may pass between them, hence the idea that dark matter is matter in an alternate universe exerting gravitational effects in ours. It is hard to fathom the purpose of this experiment though. To test the effects of the mutating nanomachine perhaps? To test the socio-dynamic effects of the introduction of super beings? As a bet to see how long it takes for us to tear ourselves apart, made between bored lab workers? It's hard to fathom... but if Fritz was one of them, why is it important to them that Reaper is free... and what will they do now to free him again, especially after he seems to have had a change of heart from what they expected or wanted him to be. Were they actually able to plan or calculate who would receive exactly what powers?

[Xerxes Shadow]

Joe wipes his bloodied swords on the man's shirt. "That was fun," he says, "even though I barely broke a sweat. Who are you?"

[blennus]

“The Man”

“Thank you my good man, you have been most helpful.” he declared as he paid the sum of money, along with a hefty tip. After he and Angie took a seat he took a big bite and gave an approving nod towards Bob. “Now that’s good eats. Your sammiches are as good as their reputation.” They took their time while eating lunch as they went over the things he wanted to say, both to the Doctor as well as potential investors. He knew that this first meeting with the Doctor could really further his cause. After finishing he made sure that he left the area clean as possible, as he had an image to protect. It was already getting close to 3:00, so they got in the limo and started to head over to the Hospital. Destiny awaits!

Summary: Eat lunch, go to Hospital. Note to DM: Hope you didn’t forget about the stink bomb in his trunk. Let me know when the smell starts to seep out.
PS. this will be my last post of the year, as I am about to pack up my computer.

[harmonictempest]

An excerpt from the thoroughly unscientific life chronicles of Robert Blain

A quiet afternoon, mused Gust as he wafted across the city towards his apartment. Well, aside from a building blowing up downtown. Arriving on his block, he paused momentarily before flying down the next street and landing on the top of a random building. Stepping inside the (mercifully unlocked) door from the roof, he changed back and marched down and across the street as naturally as he could manage. They always gloss over that sort of awkwardness in books - I guess I won't get the romantic treatment in real life.

Arriving in his apartment, Robert surveyed the somewhat messy scene left from his discoveries of the last few days. At least I won't have to worry about making a mess accidentally as Robert - I'm not sure I can access powers at all like this. Straining briefly, he found that although the wind still whispered in his ears and he seemed to be a little faster, he could not manage any control over the air. Oh well, can't have everything - and it's not a bad price for such a handy disguise, really. Now, time to put this place in order. One ominous rumble later, priorities had again shifted toward food. Robert got out a steak, then after consideration, put the whole package out to thaw, and started munching his way through a package of granola bars and a sack of apples while he cleaned.

As the apartment slowly grew more tidy, Robert realized in much subtler yet stronger ways how thoroughly different-and-will-never-be-the-same-again things were. It was easy to avoid such blunt realizations when you were FLYING - your mind dismissed it as if you were playing a video game, or dreaming. But when you were doing something as mundane as cleaning an apartment, and noted in just a moments glance that the pile of dirty socks under the dresser had fifteen socks, fourteen of which had a mate nearby, and in the next glance saw the runaway sixteenth peeking out from a back corner of the dark closet where he never would have noticed it a few days ago - then was the moment where that hard reality sat down on your couch and opened one of your beers, and you realized it was, for better or worse, a permanent house guest.

Robert tore his mind away from musing and his eyes away from the couch. If this is a way of life and not just a weekend adventure, then I'll have to take care of at least a few details. He sat down at his home computer and laboriously typed out a short email explaining that he had decided to use some vacation time, especially because of the recent weirdness in the city, and he'd be back next week. After hitting the send button, his stomach rumbled again, and he got up to check on the steaks. Finding them mostly thawed, he decided to get at least a little fancy (as small celebration for his first bit of hero work), and dredged up a simple recipe he could pull off - a soy sauce and ginger marinade for the steaks. Getting back to the computer with food still on his mind, he frowned briefly before entering a few Internet searches to see if there was any precedent for an appetite like this.
Computer Use (untrained) = 14 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1446338/)

His first few Google searches, "always hungry" and "big appetite", turned up very little, but then he remembered the exuberant sensation of flight, and how immediately hungry he'd felt afterwards. After a few more searches, this time on birds, he started coming up with a little more.
The skeleton consists of very lightweight bones. They have large air-filled cavities (called pneumatic cavities) which connect with the respiratory system.[32] The skull bones are fused and do not show cranial sutures.[33] The orbits are large and separated by a bony septum. The spine has cervical, thoracic, lumbar and caudal-- what the heck is "caudal"? Neeeext, please. Still, that does sound pretty much like Gust-- gotta be light to fly, I guess. After a few more minutes, he finally came up with "Most birds are highly adapted for rapid digestion to aid with flight". Theeeere we go. *sigh* Oh well, comes with the fancy title and superpowers, I guess. Speaking of which...dinner!

He got up and put the steaks in the oven, then started another apple. While they cooked, he sat and looked around the apartment. Finally looks pretty decent again...y'know, until I have to change here 'cause some goon catches me off-guard. Hmm...I guess I should put some thought into that. After a little work, the spare robe and bolts were hidden in an easily accessible corner of the closet, and he'd gotten a good idea of which windows could be quickly opened and either entered or exited. Well, that went fast - hopefully I never get followed home. I'd rather somewhere that's not here be the battleground, anyway. In case I can't always rely on a convenient rooftop or stairwell, though, I should have somewhere to change here. Hmm....bathroom! Great. He went inside and made a quick check - all loose objects stowed in tightly closed cabinets, toilet lid down, etc. Satisfied, he walked back out into the apartment and looked around to make sure no neighboring apartments had straight views through his windows. With a reassured grunt, he spun on his heel and strode confidently into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. After a moment, there was a mighty tumult from within the bathroom, during which the the door hinges creaked ominously. The noise then stopped abruptly and was followed by vigorous cursing. The door swung open to reveal Gust fading back into Robert as he stepped out, entirely swathed in most of a roll of toilet paper.

After a few minutes of swear-filled effort, the toilet paper was in the trashcan, and a significantly subdued Robert was plowing his way through a few pounds of steak.
Deft adult fingers
clumsy on my five-year old hands
I didn't think I was supposed to grow up this fast
Smiling at the bit of unbidden poetry, Robert got up to put some music on, and sat back down to finish his steak.

Summary: Puttering about the apartment - going to get around to going out on patrol later, but as I've gotten through a few hours by now, I figure I should see what happens before getting too far ahead.

Also, he's definitely listening to Simon & Garfunkel (and wondering why he forgot some parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme for these steaks).

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

(Possibly Geez3r wants this to run differently, but I'm basically posting with the assumption that Dark gets what he wants. Just letting you know this post might not happen).

I'm calling this the "I have a nightmare" speech :smallbiggrin:

There was no business like show business... except for politics. Dark sat under the fierce studio lights and read the sense of quiet anticipation and power on his interviewer's face. Gordon Baumann was the silver fox of early evening news. Dark was a rube, a fool to be exploited, a quarry to be hunted - a fish to be landed. There were innumerable metaphors.

But Lachlan Dark did not sweat. Literally or figuratively.

He was as smooth and polished as marble and his skin drank in the artificial light so that he seemed to glow. Dark was handsome by any standard, with that special touch that might be described as beautiful; masculine but with well-defined, elegant features. And under strong artificial lighting he seemed even radiant, to have qualities unobserved since the introduction of colour film.

He was wearing a light grey suit he had purchased only that day and a wristwatch which had been a present for his 21st birthday. No-one would ever know how carefully he had selected everything, no-one would believe he was exercising such precise control over his posture and movements. Dark looked relaxed, with only a twinkle in his eyes disclosing his own sense of imminence; his own anticipation.

He looked like he might be a European Prince, some long lost descendant of the fallen house of Romanov. Or an underworld spy - a man who knew people. Or maybe the director of some multi-billion dollar technology company.

He looked like a Kennedy.

He looked absolutely right.

This was the first image the world would see of Professor Lachlan Dark. An image that would be seen by a billion people in this ultra-connected world before the sun rose on the Eastern seaboard tomorrow morning.

Purpose was all that mattered. Drive and ambition were magnetic: gravitational: tidal. They pulled oceans and set the spheres of heaven in motion. And Dark was as certain as a laser.

"We'll go live in thirty seconds, professor," said a young woman who had been identified earlier as the floor manager.

"Thank you, Yvonne," he replied.

People would misunderstand his motivation when they came much later, as they certainly would, to analyse what he would say next. They would call him a Machiavelli. They would say he was an opportunist. But they would not understand the necessity of it as Dark did.

A storm was coming that threatened to sweep away a hundred generations of civilization. The forces building on either side could not be dissipated, so they had to be channelled and Dark would make himself a lightning rod.

His destruction - and such it would have to be; a seismic event that shamed the word death - was almost assured. Men dare not grapple lightning or with bare affront challenge gods. Dark's only hope was that he was indeed something more than man. And though they did not know it yet, this was the hope of all mankind.

Yvonne counted down and the music started.

"Good evening, I'm Gordon Baumann and this is the news..." There were updates from the fallen building and the on site reporter passed on wild speculation purporting to be news. The number confirmed dead was surprisingly high - probably because so many had come to watch the super heroes rescue others. Eventually a camera swung around to focus on Dark.

"I'm joined this evening by Professor Lachlan Dark from the Rainport Institute of Technology. Professor Dark, received his PhD in atomic metallurgy from MIT where he was also an associate professor before being named as the new head RIT's department of Applied Mechanics. Professor Dark is also - and forgive me if this is the wrong word - a mutant".

"Good evening Gordon. I've heard that word used a lot. Mutant, or mutate, applies to something which is genetically different. It is by no means clear that the changes we have observed are entirely, or even partially, genetic in nature. It's important to note that no single word will define us, any more than a single word defines all people who are black, Jewish or even American. That is true in this case more than any other".

"But don't worry about it Gordon, we're all finding our feet here. Let's do without the catchall label for the moment and simply say that I have been significantly empowered".

"Very well, Professor. You contacted the station and requested to be interviewed, but you have so far refused to sign the register set up to monitor your people".

"I'm glad you mentioned that. The list is entirely voluntary - and if it wasn't it would be entirely unconstitutional. My right to speak to a journalist on television is protected by the constitution and that right is not compromised by any other action I take or do not take. There are, as you have seen, a number of men and women who have powers and are choosing to employ them in defence of this city. But there are many more who will wish to remain private citizens, and that is an essential freedom. The government does not have the right to invade the privacy of any citizen, providing they are not engaged in criminal behaviour".

"You mention protecting the city of Rainport - what are your views on the events of today?"

"Be afraid," Dark said flatly and let it hang there for a heartbeat. "Be afraid of the way your leaders will package this and present it to you as something simple and horrible with a simple and efficient solution. Neither of these are true. The planning involved and the intelligence required to bring that building down at the right moment were not acts of random violence but precise calculations. And our response to that cannot be ill-considered, it cannot be rash; we cannot react as if provoked - we must act with purpose".

"Professor--"

"No, let me go on... I was there this afternoon in central Rainport and I had the opportunity to speak to the person responsible for the bombs that brought the building down... He was there; watching, awaiting, predicting our reactions. You will have a lot of questions now which I cannot answer."

"I imagine you would like to know why I have not spoken to the police about this. The police cannot touch him; he is beyond the abilities of any normal human and involving them would only lead to their deaths. This is the challenge of our lifetime, this act today was aimed at us, at my people. We are the only ones who can respond to it and it will require all of our abilities to do so."

"It would not be an underestimation to say that the fate of the entire human race will be decided by what happens here in Rainport and those you call mutants are the only line of defence".

Dark turns and looks directly into the camera, his face perfectly symmetrical, his eyes confident, strong. When he spoke it was as if he read words from a holy book, from Shakespeare, etched in stone by alchemists and put to music by Willie Nelson. He spoke, perhaps as no man had done in a generation, to the part of the soul that still knows how to fly.

"I have always believed that each of us has a responsibility - to our community, to our family and most of all to ourselves. A responsibility to excel. To reach beyond what we thought we were capable of. To confound expectation and achieve greater things".

"For some of those watching, your excellence will be a college degree, for some a high school diploma. For some it will be half a second faster, those last ten yards or just making it through the next year after losing someone you love".

"There are men and women who risk their lives every day because they believe in right. You may know one of these people. You may be one of these people. There are those who struggle against their past and themselves, through the long dark night, to stay on that straight and narrow path".

"There are those who fall into dust. And who lift themselves".

"We do not set the height of the bar, but nevertheless we must clear it".

"That is why I call upon all of you, at the beginning of this remarkable age, to be true to the talents given each of you. I call for excellence when it has never been more needed".

"I call for heroes".

Dark had been watching the counter for time remaining and had spun it out until there was none.

The floor was silent.

"We're clear," said Yvonne in a tiny voice.

And someone started to applaud and the applause grew. TV people were very dramatic. They were lost in the moment and only Dark, smiling benignly - and signing an autograph? me? really? what a surprise - was already thinking on to the next step. And the next.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu had been wandering around the cage for quite a while, while Reaper and Pulse had gone silent. The collected army staff seemed to be pretty focused on their task, and striking up a conversation with them was likely a lost cause. Eventually, Nosferatu perks his head up, and announces that he is going for a little wander around the area, see if anyone needs any help. Pausing in case one of the army personel has an objection (in which case he will stop), Nosferatu heads out of the large doors.

It appears the other mutants on the base have moved their work a bit further out, so their are probably still pretty busy. So much for talking to them. Wandering about, Nosferatu looks into the relative bustle of a fast growing base. With a smirk of amusement, it appears even here there is some people who are relaxed. Nosferatu has spotted a uniformed individual who is out of the way, relaxing on the top of a barrel and watching a portable TV. But as if to reverse Nosferatu's musings, the man is called away almost immediately, and he drops the TV on the barrel. With no one around, Nosferatu walks over and scoops up the TV. A few minutes are spent channel surfing, until a name catches his attention. Dark. Its an ad for some talk show where Dark will be interviewed about the mutate situation! It will be on after the break.

Hitting 'Live Pause' on the set and scribbling a 'BRB' message on the dust on the barrel, Nosferatu rushes back to the prison-hanger.

"Hey Pulse, Reaper. A mutate called Prof Dark is going on this talk show to talk about the superpower incidents. Thought you would want to see."

Setting up the screen so that everyone can see, Nosferatu hits 'Play' on the Mobile Tivo panel and listens in.

As the interview goes on, Nosferatu's face seems to fall as it looks like little important information will be mentioned. However, his attention is held as it is said that Dark had met this person who planned the bombings... that the bombing appears to have been planned... and that the Altered where the only line of defense.

As the interview cuts to commercial, Nosferatu lets out a small whistle.

"Whew. No pressure, right?"

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse nods slowly. "It only confirms what I've been suspecting. This is all some kind of scenario being created, for some unknown purpose." He watches Dark carefully, "He's seen one of them... the writers of the scenario... I think Dr. Fritz may have been one..." He frowns, "Unless Dark is one himself... he's awfully polished in his performance, don't you think?"

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

Part One: Turning Point

This is insane.

Natasha Verraine sat back on her bed, having excused herself from the commons and the commotion there to her dorm room for a touch of privacy. Her roommate Heather had gone with her... and now the two sat on her undersized bed, watching in rapt attention as story after story flashed by on the news about the explosion, or the mutant issue. The two girls watched as every man and woman who could get in front of a camera gave their opinion about the matter to news reporters who all but cackled in glee as they played up the media frenzy.

Heather sat wide-eyed behind her, and Tasha didn't even need to read her mind to know that she was scared. She could feel it rolling off of her as they watched the newswoman at the scene interviewing everyone she could find. Then, just as suddenly as the explosion itself, the reporter looked aside, cutting off the man she was speaking to mid-sentence.

I'm sorry. I've just been told that we have an important feed coming through. Back to you in the station Tom.

We have another development in this incident. A man professing to be a mutant himself has come out about the matter, and is now speaking to a reporter in an exclusive interview. We take you now to this interview, with a man by the name of Lachlan Dark.

The girls watched as the camera focused in on a handsome blonde man of the type not seen outside of young girl's fantasies of the handsome prince who would sweep her away to happiness and luxury.

Why does he look so familiar? She thought to herself as she listened...

*one speech later*

The professor's words were potent. He seemed determined and intent. Dignified, but concerned... and his plea to other mutants dragged up a lot of fears that she had been afraid to consider. She had hoped that she could lay low and just be a normal person with a abnormal trick she could exploit to make her way in the world. But he was right... people had died. People would keep dying... and the only ones who could even hope to understand and do anything about it were other mutants.

But what can I do? I'm not stronger or tougher. What kind of hero needs help opening jars and has to sit down and curse for five minutes after stubbing her toe? She thought to herself, Plus... there's still no way I'm going public. No one can attack me if they don't know who I am. That's the only defense I have!

Tasha barely payed attention to the men who came on after Dark, as her mind rolled over how to best approach this. She was scared... but she couldn't let that stop her anymore. She was hardly the most moral person around, but whomever had taken down that building had no regard for the lives of anyone... The next place he brought down could be the school... or the homes of people she cared about. She could really make a difference, provided she was smart about it.

I can do this! I'm smart enough... People have told me it my whole life. I just need to find a way that doesn't expose me as a mutant. That's going to be the hard part.

Tasha's mind reeled over the first truly important thing she had ever contemplated in her life... but in the end, she was resolved. If she played it right, and didn't mess up... She might just be able to pull it off. If not, well.... she would make sure it didn't come to that. As the news station rambled about the professor's speech, she formed a plan...

(DUN DUN DUN!)

---------------------

Part Two: Crow


Tasha got up from the bed and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge by her desk, as well as her purse.

Holy @#$%. Heather! I have to go out and meet Draven. She exclaimed, noticing the time on her desk-clock. We were going to get something to eat together before we came back here for the night.

With all this happening, you're going out on a date? Heather said in shock.

I'm not letting a bunch of freaks on the news ruin my sex-life! That's how the terrorists win, you know. She said with a smile so well feigned, it may well have been genuine.

Ok well.... If that's your plan, I'm going to crash over at Jen's tonight. I don't really want to walk in on something like that... again... Heather said with a sigh and roll of her eyes.

Tasha faked another smile and a soft laugh, Alright, prude. Then I'll see you in class tomorrow.

Tasha grabbed her coat and headed out the door, heading straight for her car. It was going to be a busy night.

Tasha hopped into her car and shut the door behind her. Putting in her earphones, she turned her music on and up... The opening of Evanescence's "My Tourniquet" blaring into her ears. The music made her feel more focused... More brave... Like a mini adrenalin rush.

She picked up her phone and scanned for Draven's number. Rather than taking the chance that he would pick up and she would have to explain to him what was going on... she sent him a text message instead.

Hey. Be back at 9 tonight all alone. Please come by. -Tasha

With that hopefully ensuring that Draven didn't show while she was away, she started her car and headed out. It would be a bit trickier to get in touch with the next person she needed to.

Driving a ways into the city, she parked in the lot of a diner and got out to wander on foot a bit. The first place she wandered into was a radio-shack... To pick up a disposable cellphone... The untraceable kind. Several blocks down, at a Best Buy, she purchased a small hand-held voice changer with a record function. Sure, it was meant for novelty purposes... it would do well enough. Her mom would probably be pissed that she'd charged it on her credit card... but she could deal with that later. Now was time for the hard part.

With her hands in her pockets, she walked down the street, lost in thought... paying attention to little, save the music playing in her earphones and her musings over what to do next.

The report said that this Professor Lachlan Dark teaches at RIT... That big technical school in the city that mom wanted me to go to. After his coming out... he's probably swamped with calls... so I need to find a better way to get in touch with him. I doubt they'd give out his personal number to someone they didn't know over the phone. Ok ok... Think! You're a relative who wants to... no. That's crap. No one would buy that... Wait! I've got it!

With new purpose, Tasha walked back to her car... calling information along the way to get the number of the RIT faculty offices. She sat down in her car, making sure there were no prying eyes about, took out her headphones, tested the voice changer twice... It made her voice sound slightly mechanical, and best of all, masculine. With any luck, no one would suspect that the real voice could come from a woman. Content in that, she took a deep breath, shook off a bit of nervousness, and called. The girl answering the phone barely got through a "Hello" before she spoke up.

I am calling to deliver a message to a Professor Lachlan Dark. She said into the voice-changer... Her voice coming out oddly mechanical sounding and best of all, masculine-sounding. Can you get in touch with him, immediately?

Who is this? The woman on the other end sounded fearful.

My name does not matter. I am a mutant who wishes to get in touch with the Professor in regards to his speech today. Can you reach him, or not?

We have contact information for all of our faculty members... She said hesitantly, But I can't give any of it out... I'm sor...

That is fine, she interrupted, I would be offended if you did. I am going to ask you to deliver a message to him... and you must do so the moment you put down this phone from speaking with me. Agreed?

A-alright. The woman said softly, now very obviously frightened.

Alright. Inform the professor that I am, as I said, a mutant. I do not wish to give my real name... so he may call me Crow. I wish to speak with him personally, but I also require that my identity remain a secret. I will call this number again at 8 pm tonight. That gives you some time to ensure that it is the professor who will answer. If anyone BUT Professor Lachlan Dark answers this phone, I will be very... disappointed. If you contact anyone BUT Lachlan Dark with this information, I will be very disappointed. Am I understood?

Yes. The woman's voice was just a squeek at the other end.

Very well. 8 pm. Do not disappoint me.

Tasha hung up the phone and slumped back into her seat with a long, deep breath. That had been tense... and she may have laid it on a little thick, but by making the woman afraid something horrible might happen, she was all but assured that Dark would receive the message. If worst came to pass, she tossed the phone and voice-changer in the river and went back to the way things were. Now it was just a matter of killing time until 8. Tonight was going to be... interesting.

(With that, Tasha will stow her new electronics, turn off her new cell-phone... and head into the city for something to eat, and possibly take in a movie if she has time while she's waiting for 8pm to roll around. Then, the real fun begins! :smallamused: )

[Raven T.]

Alex

These events take place after his meeting with The Man and are in response to viewing Prof. Dark's speech.

Home again. The last sanctuary on earth just for him. A place where he could be who he really was; an amalgamation of every mask he put on for the world. Both the extent of his lust for power...and his caring side...came out and battled each other. The computer had shown him nothing new had happened among the companies he watched now, hoping for an opening, so he turned on the news.

Prof. Dark's speech was being broadcast across the nation on CNN and MSNBC (Foxnews, oddly enough, was too busy talking about the impact of these heroes on Mr. and Mrs. Middle America to cover it) over and over again, complete with "expert" analysis over it. Alex, though, had his own ideas...

Who is this Dark and what is his angle? He's putting out a call for heroes to rise up and...oh, dear gods...that BITER! I see. He's attempting to raise a hero army, one he can wrap around his finger and use for international domination. I must STOP HIM before this gets out of control! If he succeeds, everything I have planned will be for naught...

But wait. Let him champion mutate's rights. I'll play the opposite angle and we'll see who comes out on top. Perhaps he will be receptive to a mutual arrangement between us. We both have our fields of expertise; together, we can be more than individually. Only time will tell.

But if he's not receptive...well, he MUST be removed before he becomes a greater threat. I will find him, I will pay him a visit, and we will go from there. Tonight sounds good; I have naught to do.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Apparently he needed an agent. Or so everyone was telling him. Television was the fuzzy end of reality. Cataclysms were something they filmed, edited and voiced-over; they were not things that actually existed any more than the zany characters in the sitcoms that followed the news. Could this nuclear winter be any colder?

A costume designer had approached him excitedly with colour swatches. All the fabrics had some percentage of lyrca in them. Dark did not bother to point out that you didn't wear a costume if everyone knew who you were; he did however excuse himself from the conversation.

Producers pounced. A coherent mutant, one with some kind of vision - it was exciting, inspiring and frightening. It was the kind of thing that got ratings.

Professor Dark had noticed one thing about the media, before he became a super hero, back when he was in a co-ed dorm as an MIT undergraduate and the TV in the common room was always on MTV. Fact was - you either commented on the news, or you were the news. Though of course "the news" in that case was Britney Spears shaving her head. But the principle was true everywhere.

Politicians know never to answer a question about somebody else. Talk about the issues. Everything else makes the other guy the story.

Whatever happened to Britney Spears?

...That was enough. Wondering what happened to Britney Spears was a bridge too far. He'd had enough of TV for one night.

Dark parted the crowd around him and glided through like a cruise liner; all smiles and waves. He absently signed several further autographs outside the studio and shook some excited hands. A young man in the crowd shouted emphatically, "You rock! You rock!"

Dark was pretty sure that he had never rocked. Certainly not to the degree that required positive citation. He smiled, but inside Dark wanted to tell him to get a hair cut, go home and seriously consider enrolling in some adult education classes. And the hair cut could wait until tomorrow.

The journey home was mercifully anonymous. The driver of his car was not listening to the news - apparently you needed to hire a Mercedes before you could avoid hearing the news in a car in this city - and so had no idea who Dark was.

Back at the house called Apollo, Dark pressed the play button on answer machine and lay back on his Chesterfield in front of the fire. Maybe he would order take out. He was pretty sure he could get shot in the chest and keep going, cholesterol was the least of his worries.

The first voice he heard was his own, then the voice of the Vanishing Man. Hearing it again was disquieting, especially here. Not of course that Dark needed the safety of four walls - or that these walls were safe - but psychology was psychology.

There was a message from Professor Turpin at MIT. The old man sounded concerned. Of course Dark had not had time to explain the circumstances of his departure. It was before the evening broadcast - not that Turpin watched news anyway - but he'd find out more tomorrow.

Was it really so difficult to reach back into the so-recent past? He was not the boy Turpin had known. Paragon was a terrible giant. A murderer. But somehow he knew he would not have been able to make the call anyway. Because Lachlan Dark had done something worse. He'd stood back and done nothing in the face of brutal injustice, and profited enormously by his cowardice.

He might stare down the devil before he could face Turpin.

A third and a fourth message were administrative. The second floor toilets were working. And then they were not. Maybe this could be some sort of a student project? Was there any way he could make the plumbing system part of a graded test without breaking labour laws?

The fifth message prompted Dark to sit up. He picked up the phone and dialled the main building where a telephone operator explained.

"I see," he said. "Of course, I switched my mobile off when I was in the studio. Did they leave a number? Well, if a call comes through with a withheld number at 8pm then put it through to me here. I don't think we need to bother the police yet... Margaret was it? Margaret, don't worry, I'll be fine... Thank you... Did you think so? No, I've never done TV before... Yes, well, interestingly enough I haven't had any messages from the staff so far. I think they're possibly a little nervous. In future, if anyone calls claiming to be a mutant, you can put them through to my voicemail here. Thank you again, Margaret. Good night".

Dark hung up, paused and dialled again. "...Margaret, who does good Chinese food in this city?"

[Raven T.]

Alex

Note: These events are occurring later, after my meeting with The Man, considering he has no internet access. If need be, I will be in two timelines at once.

It was time to pay the good doctor a visit. Grabbing a mask he had worn in high school as part of a production of The Phantom of the Opera (he had a passable singing voice,) he headed out into the night. Flaw 1: he made himself too public. It's too easy to track him...almost TOO easy. Thinking twice, he grabbed his kukri, placing them in his coat, and wrapped the length of chain he often used for a defensive weapon around his waist, doing his level best to keep them hidden.

An hour later, he was on campus and staring at the Apollo, breathing evenly to steady himself. Pulling the cowl of his cloak down to further hide his face and give him that creepy aura, he gave himself one last pep talk...

Ok, old boy. We know he must be powerful, otherwise his hubris would have spelled his doom long before now. Underestimation will prove to be fatal. We also know he's intelligent and a charismatic force, judging both by his profession and his speech on TV earlier today.

Whatever his motivations, we must make him see things our way and educate him on the natural order of things. It will be tough...but I like a challenge. After all, I wouldn't be where I am today if I had let fear get a hold on me. Time to let it all hang out.

One last breath and he strode up the porch, knocking firmly on the door. As he waited, his personality began to change. The dark, cruel, ambitious part of him rose to the surface again, ready to take on anything that the professor could throw at him...literally and figuratively.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Joe wipes his bloodied swords on the man's shirt. "That was fun," he says, "even though I barely broke a sweat. Who are you?"

Davan

"Someone looking for a bit of a challenge, who happened across what looked a nice little brawl-I don't have much in the way of a name yet, so lets just call me Zhang...by the way, you didn't need to kill them, I had one of them down for the count already. When I heard the one mention "bringing you in" along with the costume, it wasn't exactly a big mental leap to think they might've come after me if i was in your shoes...it've been nice to find out why. Interesting style by the way...I get the whole "death from above" bit, but I realy don't see the need for ashotgun myself, if you're handy with those blades. Too messy, no style to it. To each their own, I guess, but I've never liked guns.

So, was this just a chance mugging gone bad, or do...did these guys actually have something against you?"

[harmonictempest]

Robert Blain/Gust


"I call for heroes".

Click. Well, that didn't take as long as it should have. Figures. Wonder if there's anything else on?
((This section is waiting for a reply from geez3r))

An hour of channel-surfing later, the steaks and apples long gone, normal life had officially become boring (but then, watching TV by yourself always was). Stretching, Robert realized he'd outgrown evenings like this as a child outgrows a shoe. The more he reflected on the events of the day and the interview he'd just seen, the less organized and more turbulent his thoughts became. I need to go for a walk. Though...why walk when you can fly? With a little extra care in securing the bathroom, the change went more smoothly this time. He switched out the white robe for a black one, and headed for the roof. Entering the roof through the stairwell, he did a few backflips and rolls to loosen up while heading for the edge, though his face, unlike most people's would, showed little sign of the exhilaration these acrobatics produced. Reaching the edge of the roof, he plunged off without hesitation, leveling out and heading off into the night sky with a few twists and turns. Time to see what this guy's capable of...

A hour later, having exhausted himself with flying practice and fruitless attempts to figure out the events of the day, Gust flew along slowly, thoughts spinning out of their tangled coil at last.

Life is strange, isn't it? My worries of today make everything else in my life look petty. It's a strange concert of personalities and choices, with unbearable potential for heaven or hell. And a bunch of us just got promoted to a new orchestra, one that gets to play the tune the whole world will dance to. Some will get drunk on that power and abuse it, others will have the strangely opposite reaction of clamping down and trying to protect and control as much as possible. It's...beautiful, really. Every participant is their own string of clashing or complementing colors, and together we'll have to figure out how to weave. And yet, is it sad that it's so easy to see where it will go? Some will plan a beautiful blanket, a symphony of classical structure and great beauty. Others will reject it, some because it does not have a solo movement for them, some because they reject the possibility of such an idealistic goal, never realizing that their lack of confidence will help it to fail.

I can imagine all too clearly the spectrum of reactions, both seen and unseen, that this will and has caused. The participants of that meeting, though enthusiastic, may not realize how small a segment they represent. There will be the classic heros and villains, who will happily duke it out, but there will also be those who keep their gifts secret and use them only for small personal gain, and those who reject open activism in favor of covert use of their powers - we'll see their names in the news, and few if any will realize the cause of their success. Even the tiny fragment I've encountered so far is fascinating, like a bouquet of flowers or selection of wines - wonder-full in their differences, and creating a strange alchemy in their coalition. Our powers are apt to our essences. The headstrong teenager, full of the black-and-white vision that his age affords so readily - he's a flame, flickering and sparking. If he's careful, he'll be able to wind up as more than a tool whose spark is directed by others. The man on the glider - a machine, moving metal parts in perfect concert, sharp blades on either end and hard to fool. Hard to fool, but slower to act than more ambitious sorts. The vampire, despite his supposedly dark nature - a tough sunflower, turning to the light with a friendly smile. Let's hope the grittier side of life doesn't disillusion his hopes and optimistic plans. And Professor Dark - well, that's another sort entirely. He'll have an army at his disposal, and soon. It remains to be seen what he will do with it. ((again, waiting for clarification on this last bit from geez3r))

Too many cooks spoil the soup. Let's hope we have a forgiving recipe.

Where does that leave me? Am I a bird, a breeze? I'm not a leader - I couldn't even begin an inspiring speech without trying too hard and getting stuck, no matter how comfortable I am now. But I couldn't be a follower, either - I see too much, and I can already envision the lies some super-politician will tell to those who follow him. I guess I'm somewhere in the middle, then - best not to push it, I'll figure it out, eventually. He floats, having mastered a sort of drifting hover, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, flying along slowly and letting nearby winds determine his course. Staring up at the stars whose constellations he had never learned, he was aware of a feeling of complete contentment.
Growing older
dreams of superpowers fading into adulthood
where did the stars go?
perhaps wishing was too hard
and learning to pay taxes became easier.
what if we gave up too soon?
Savoring the unplanned poetry that seemed to be ever-more-constant visitor these days, Gust decided he was happy. This is who I've been wanting to be since I've been mature enough to know what I wanted. I know this feeling, and sometime soon I'm sure I'll decide that this was unneeded euphoria, but I want to hold on to this. I'm closer these last few days to finding that peace that comes with doing what you're supposed to - I've seen it often enough on other people's faces to recognize it now. Now's the time to stay the course, and find out what part this instrument, this thread, can play. I'm confident enough now to say that my part will be worthwhile, but it remains to be seen what it will be. One thing is sure, though - I've practiced for long enough. This afternoon was nice, but I was never in any actual danger. I've learned as much as I can by doing cartwheels and flying corkscrews. I've been sharpening this blade long enough.

He falls gracefully out of his hover into a swooping dive, as if, lying on his back on a diving board, he had slid headfirst off the end of the board.

Gust is on patrol.

Summary: Reflection and self-discovery. Going on patrol over a relatively undetermined part of the city (he's been flying for a while, so he could be anywhere).

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

The movie may have been more interesting if she had been able to pay attention. As it was, she spent two thirds of it trying to come up with what she was going to say at 8 when she made her little phone call. Once the credits rolled, she wandered back to the diner she had parked beside, and had something to eat.. hoping it would calm the butterflies in her stomach. She stared out the window idly, her music turned up high, checking the time on her cell phone every minute and a half or so. The closer the time became to 8, the more she considered backing out... and the louder she made the music.

7:55 found her back in her car... where she spent the remaining 5 minutes staring at her new cell phone and voice changer as if she could make them make the call themselves if she watched them intently enough. Finally, the time struck 8, and she turned off her music, cutting Jonathan Davis of mid-song. She took a deep breath and relaxed a bit.... or tried to.

Alright, alright... I can do this. Be calm. I can't act nervous over the phone if I'm going to pull this off. She thought as she turned on her new cell phone, Ok... Here goes.

The phone rang... for a needlessly long time in fact.

Crap! Did I scare the stupid secretary so much she won't answer the phone?

-----------------

Elsewhere, Margaret Del'Gado looked nervously at the phone. Just a few hours ago, she had received a call from a very disturbing man who had claimed to be a mutant. What is more, she was fairly certain he had threatened her. Her hands shook as she reached for the phone... Not certain if she should pick it up. The caller had asked for Professor Dark and only Professor Dark. She had barely time to cope with someone she had known for months coming out as a mutant... and now there were threatening calls coming for him? She had caught the professor speaking about the man who blew up a building downtown... Maybe that man was angry at him for it? Images of the phone somehow exploding filled her head. Sure it was absurd, but with all the things that these mutants could do, was it really so impossible?

Rather than risk answering, she pushed the button to transfer the call straight to the professor, just as he had requested. Then she stared at the now silent phone for a minute, before deciding that now was a very, very good time to head across the street for coffee and a bagel.

-------------------------

Just before Natasha hung up her phone in irritation, she heard the click of it responding, followed by what sounded like a recorded voice-mail message. (I'm mildly curious what kind of message Dark would have, actually) Either the professor was too busy to take the call, he hadn't been told about it, or he was just choosing not to answer for whatever reason. No matter the case, she let out a sigh of relief. It was almost better to not have to speak to him in person. Now she just had to make sure that she didn't put anything on the message that would be bad if anyone got their hands on it. She turned on the voice-changer and waited for the beep.

Hello Professor. I saw your speech today, and felt the need to contact you. I do not wish to reveal my name... but you may refer to me as "Crow". I am an unregistered mutant, and if you spoke honestly on television, I think we share a lot of the same views. I would like to speak to you personally, provided my true identity can be protected. I simply do not trust people, I'm afraid.

There was a very slight pause in the message, before the voice spoke up again.

I do not wish to threaten or harm anyone. I am merely concerned for my well-being. I hope you will understand. If you do wish to contact me, use this number *insert new cell's number here*, and give me a more reliable way to reach you. Otherwise, I will assume that you do not wish to speak to me, and I will not trouble you again.

*Click*

Tasha slumped back into her seat with a long exhale of breath.

That could have gone worse. There's no way he can trace the phone to me, and the voice thing makes me sound like a guy with one of those smoker's voiceboxes.... I think I'm safe. She assured herself, as she started her car. Alright... I guess I'll leave it on until Draven comes by, just in case he was screening his calls or something.

Proud of her own plan, Tasha began the drive home, keeping her phone in view so she would see if it rang, and putting her headphones back in. Pulling out of the parking lot, she smiled and cued up her current favorite song.

This secret informant thing isn't so hard. In your face Deep Throat!

OOC: That should take care of things... Now Dark can reply, wait, or ignore... his choice.

Also, fun fact for those who do not know... Jonathan Davis is the lead singer of Korn. Unlike SOME other masterminds... this little girl doesn't listen to classical music while scheming and sipping wine. I speak of no one in particular, but I could easily see both Dark AND Alex doing that. :smallbiggrin:

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper is silent for a while, processing this new information. He then says, "Whatever the purposes of this Dark, he makes a point. I can testify from my own experience that ordinary men will be unable to stop the vast majority of the superpowered beings. If I had not turned myself in, the police would have had no chance of capturing me, and if I was still what I was before, the death toll would be in the hundreds already. It is the mutants who will tip the balance, though for good or evil I cannot say. I can only say that as for me, my weight will be on the side of good. As for Dark...if I am released, I may pay him a visit tonight and try to discern his intentions. I do not trust him, but I may be wrong. Only time will tell." He closed his eyes, his face becoming a blank wall of shadow. If only good and evil were shown plainly on a man's face, but alas, all was dark with shadows even the Reaper's keen eyes could not pierce. He said, in a melancholy voice, "All great change is like death. It cannot be seen until you're on the other side."

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse turns to Reaper and nods, "We can never see the results of a paradigm shift till we are on the other side of it... and there is no paradigm shift more dramatic than death." He pauses, looking at the television, "Perhaps Dark means well, perhaps not. If he wants to act in some supervisory capacity over the significantly empowered, he is going to have to play it straight with all of us... he will have constituents who can engage in immediate and personal impeachment."

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

I had actually planned to answer, but this gives Dark a chance to look much cleverer. :smallwink: Also, Margaret had never spoken to Dark before that night - Dark's still on his first day in the job, technically

In a car near a diner a phone rings and is answered.

The voice on the other side is melifluous, and has the peculiar quality of sounding very close by. It is instantly recognisable as Professor Dark.

"At the top of the stairs is a locked room," he says. "My secret chamber that no outsider views, for entry is forbidden".

"Siouxsie and the Banshees. I take it the reference isn't lost on anyone who would call themselves Crow?" The mind is the key that fits every lock - and Tasha gets the impression she's being jiggled. Dark sounds friendly, even warm, and perhaps curious. But definitely amused. Almost as if you weren't the first person to call him secretively or leap through his office window today.

"Forgive me for not picking up when you rang, I was at the door and the man who brought my Chinese food must think I live a very interesting life... Which I suppose I do, come to think of it. Of late, anyway".

"Thank you for contacting me, Crow. I'd certainly like to meet. In fact there is a group meeting tomorrow at noon, at the old quarry. If you want to meet before then, or elsewhere, a place of your choosing might make you feel more comfortable".

"Will you permit me, first, to give you a little advice? And having heard it, you should feel free to ignore it if you wish."

"You should be more confident. There's no such thing as an untraceable cell-phone. You should always lock the doors of your car when you're inside, especially when you're alone and parked. This is my cell number - store it. Your voice changer was probably not money well spent".

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

Tasha had barely made it out of the parking lot when the call came in. Momentarily panicking, she fumbled for the voice-changer... not about to make the mistake of answering the phone with her normal voice. Plucking the headphones from her ears, and turning her music off, she shut off her car and picked up the phone.

Then her face went pale as the Professor spoke.

He can't know! Her thoughts raced, It's a bluff! It has to be. There's no @#$%ing way he knows who I am after calling him ONCE! Did he trace the call somehow? That.... doesn't make any sense.

There is a moment of audible silence before a voice will finally come over the other end... The changer making it sound oddly calm and dry despite her panic.

You're a smart man Professor... And you're hoping I give something about myself away. Or you DO know who I am... in which case, you've already acted against my wishes to keep who I am a secret. Nither shows a lot of trust Professor... so which is it?

She all but held her breath waiting for the reply.

[Xerxes Shadow]

"The style I just came up with now; I was annoyingly wounded in my last battle, and these morons were actually a bit tougher than the other punks around.

"As for the vendetta against me, I'm currently involved in a plot to take down the gang leader, and I feel it would be easier with less resistance at the hangout. I can give you the details if you'd like to strike a blow against organized crime..."

He looked at "Zhang", obviously expecting the man to want to help. He seems like a hero type, Joe thought to himself. He didn't want those thugs to get killed, but he doesn't seem particularly averse to it... he seems to be in a moral gray area. I suppose he'll do for my purposes... I do need more of a minion base than just Reaper. If I have these powers, I might as well gather followers. It wouldn't hurt to have a few bodyguards, and I could probably eventually convince some other mutants to assist me. Mwa ha ha and such.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

The smile was audible.

"Merely observations and a little guesswork. I give myself away much more than I learn, but I enjoy puzzles and the crossword just doesn't do it for me anymore. I have no interest in your true identity, per se".

"If you do wish to contact me, use this number... Otherwise, I will assume that you do not wish to speak to me, and I will not trouble you again... How meek. And when you spoke to Margaret - that was her name, by the way - you were quite blunt. Almost threatening. Both make the assumption that I wouldn't want to talk to you, and since I've just said quite the opposite on television then it must be yourself you doubt rather than me".

Dark has no great appreciation of art, and never had. He was always bored by great masters and found modern art quite ridiculous. But he does have a certain fondness for portraiture. The impression of the artist of the impression the subject tried to convey - the whole thing was smoke and mirrors. It was a game of capture and display and those were the best kind.

"You made it clear how secretive you were - so the pre-packaged cell was a safe bet. The voice changer is reasonably obvious - unless you've been transfromed into some kind of robot - but that would be very unsual. If you were using both of those, chances are you wouldn't call from your house or a public area".

"I'd be willing to bet all the money in my pocket that you've got dark hair," he adds with a chuckle. "Though that is only about two dollars in change".

"However, while I enjoyed it, I observed to make a point". There is a leathery creak as Dark adjusts his seating position on some large item of furniture.

"We leak information," he continues. "Everything we do discloses our hidden nature. The song I mentioned is about Dorian Gray; whose portrait does not simply age - as people who haven't read the book believe - but takes on the appearance of the actions of the owner, becomes a picture of their soul. It is not a photograph - though Wilde could have made it so - it is a portrait. So when you speak to me of the desire to be hidden, that tells me a great deal - because it was not a disclosure made by Crow, it was an expression of desire from your original identity".

"The portrait in your attic nursery speaks to me," he says, with playful archness. "And what have I told you? Can I reverse my focus? I think you're clever, but not as clever as I am. I understand duplicity, which almost certainly means that I am in some ways false. I must believe that I can still win you round, even though I cross the boundaries of your assumed privacy. Perhaps it's an act of dominance - men are very accustomed to that. We would certainly not openly disclose our weaknesses - our fears of discovery - to another man we were meeting... or calling, for the first time".

"But I think you can trust me. Because if I was anything other than a potential friend, I would never have told you any of this. I would have called you back and been exceptionally charming. I would have put you entirely at ease and then, at a time of my choosing, I would have used my position to take advantage and play you as a pawn in some much larger game. And I could have done all of this without you suspecting, I assure you. The things we can do, but from which we refrain, are as significant as the actions we take".

"There are bad times ahead, Crow. You're right to be frightened. You're right to try to keep your secrets. Simply by contacting me you have opened yourself to new dangers. But I have sacrificed my anonymity, I have become visible and public, to protect people like us. People like you".

"I can help you, and with me, you can help the world".

"And I think that's what you really wanted to hear, isn't it? Not someone you've never met promise everything will be fine; because you would know, surely, that promise would be hollow. There comes a time when birds must leap from the nest - and in an instant fly or die. The choice you have is not between saftey and danger, for danger seeks us all and safety is an illusion. The choice you have is whether, when the time comes, you matter or not".

Even the silence following him seemed richer and more distinguished by association. You could knit cable sweaters out of the yarn Dark could weave with words. It was almost a spell, a trick. He juggled knives and turned them into doves.

But then the doves flew off and it was just him. Staring at you better than a mirror could. Demanding that you answer all the questions you've asked yourself.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

You're arrogant professor... And I'm not certain which of us you are trying to impress.... but I didn't call to play games. Tasha said through her little voice-changer... her panic had slowly faded into something closer to anger as the professor spoke. I called hoping that the man speaking for mutants was something more than another double-talking politician or glory-hound in need of attention. Be serious and stop playing games with me. You said you spoke to a man who may have been responsible for the explosion downtown today. You must suspect there is more to this than just a random pyromaniac. The chemical spill... The mutants... the explosion. It's too much to be coincidence.

There was a moment of silence over the phone, as she thought for a moment if she really wanted to do what she was thinking of doing.

I have ways of getting information that are probably not available to you... But without going public, I can do very little with it. That is where you come in. Or would you rather keep playing games?

[geez3r]

Alright, I've got like 34 IC posts to respond to :smalleek: so I'm going to do this a little differently than I normally do. I'll do this piece by piece, starting with the character who is the furthest behind in the time line (by my reckoning) and then work my way up to the "present" editing in the new bits as I go along. However, even that will have to wait because I seriously need to eat something.

Legion

{You have a net power point expenditure of 26 so far, fast healing heals the same amount of lethal and non-lethal damage, but heals non lethal before lethal. Your guard clone is currently at -8HP, and recovering steadily. You do not officially spend AP until your action officially occurs, if it doesn't happen, you don't spend the AP. }

The guard pinning the Dupe responds "Firstly, they wouldn't open fire unless your buddy there did something even more reckless. Secondly, they didn't know about any hostage situation, for all they knew he was the only robber, at least until your other buddy opened fire on them as opposed to - I don't know, holding a gun to a hostage's head like you would expect in a normal hostage situation. So because your buddy opened fire up there they know 1 of 3 things: 1) the other guards are already dead 2) the other guards aren't your hostages or 3) you have no idea what the hell you're doing. So yeah, my buds opening fire was a dumb idea, but your guy firing back was an even dumber idea, which is only surpassed by the group effort of no one coming up with the idea to restrain any of us while you had the chance."

Back to the original, as you ready yourself for the coming fight, you heart pounds in your chest. In between the hear beats, you can hear the guards getting closer as they come down the hallway. Just as they start getting close enough to worry about, you hear a voice over the PA system cry out "Careful, he's still in the room. He never went out." The guards in the hallway stop dead in their tracks.

==============================
{If you want, you could open the door and potentially blast one of them, but you would leave yourself open to a potential counter attack, or you could just hang back for now. Choice is yours/}

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"I appologise, Crow. I sometimes forget that people don't see the same benefit in games as I do. The cause is such that I cannot afford to turn away help".

"What is it, exactly, that you can do?"

[PlasticSoldier]

{I never shut the door, but either way it's open after my turn]


Drill thinks for a moment before replying "I had not yet done anything I would have opened fire for. Also, a hostage crisis would only end up in a larger shootout against people who are probably better people than the ones that shot me, which is bad. This shootout only results in me avenging myself and fleeing ASAP, which isn't as bad."

Orig. though it's probably not the smartest idea steps out of the door and looks around for the "Open Fire" guy and will promptly shoot him.

Once again spending an AP.
1d20+1,1d6,2d6=[19, 1], [5], [5, 2] (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1449520/) So I think that's either Nat 19+5+1= 25 or the Action Point boosts the Nat 19 to a Nat 20. Therefore, 1d20 1,1d6,2d6=[2, 1], [3], [4, 1] (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1449527/) I'm spending an AP again.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

Leaving the store, his mind swam with the influx of new information as he drove as calmly as he could.

How much longer will I posess my privacy I wonder? If I've learned anything, it's that times may change, but people very rarely do. I don't even want to think of what the "suits" are thinking up as a "solution" to this "problem".

All this explosion will do is accelerate the entire response process, even if it wasn't caused by a mutant in the first place!

Taking a deep breath, he focused on his next objective, after only a moment more of consideration, heading towards the hospital.

Since I haven't given myself away yet, I expect that I'll still have at least twenty-four more hours of anonymity left before I'll need to seriously consider relocation and potential...extermination risks. In the mean time, I have to find out more. But how.....?

He continued to drive, growing more and more certain that being seen at the hospital would be too much exposure too soon, the risk of which seemed to vastly outweigh the gain, when an idea occured to him.

I am a student...what better way to cover up my true intentions than to cover them up with the truth?

From behind the wheel of a black BMW, a rather pleased smile spread across the full lips of the man known as Draven Knight.

As the hospital in which those affected by the blast were being treated came into view, his plan formed itself like a monolith of black stone and blood-red mortar, slowly twisting it's way into the stormy sky of his mental landscape.
Though still primal and incomplete, it had the potental to grow into something great, if only given sufficient opportunity.

This will be a critical time. I must stay focused. As Sifu always said, be ready for anything.

Now if I could just find some decent parking...


*******
The Hospital

Finally finding a decent parking space near enough to the entry for his tastes and liking, but secluded enough that he probably wouldn't be observed getting in and out of it, he shut the engine off and got out.
Taking a moment to remove a dark scarf, a pad of paper and pen, and his old reading glasses from the glovebox, he then closed and locked his car, musing as he did.

Ironic that the "glasses as a disguise" convention is still tried and true. I'm just hoping it'll be enough. At this point though, it has to be. I can no longer afford to be ignorant about the nature of the situation, and this is the fastest and, I hope, the safest way of rectifying that particular issue.
I'm just thankful that it's just cool enough to justify gloves and a scarf.

Donning his new accouterments, he walked across the parking lot briskly, knowing that the traffic was likely to become much heavier as the injured from the building explosion would soon arrive, approaching the lobby entrance confidently, pad and pen in hand, he strode inside.

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

Tasha calmed a bit, and paused to let out a long held-in breath. The professor seemed concerned that he would lose her as a contact if he kept testing her. Rightly so, at that. She settled down a bit.

Maybe I can trust him... and maybe I can't... He's still human, and he probably hasn't always been as smart as he is now. I'd probably show off too if I was him. Even smart people can make mistakes... She thought to herself, Or maybe he's used to people just agreeing with him... like that mutant who gave that rediculious speech... and his power doesn't work over the phone. Regardless.... he's all I've got right now, and he does SEEM trustworthy.

Thank you for your understanding Professor. I don't see good things on the horizon, and I am adamant about keeping my status as a mutant a secret. She spoke into her little electronic device. Since you chose not to reveal your abilities in your interview, I trust you will understand why I choose to show the same caution. Let me just say that I can go places that people do not want me to be, and ferret out information that people wish to stay hidden. Proof... is harder to come by. But I think in that regard, you may be able to do what I cannot. You have influence I do not. Also, you asked for other mutants to join you. Together... I am hoping we can figure out what it going on before it is too late.

[geez3r]

Legion

The guard pinning your dupe pauses for a moment before saying "Just - shut up." Obviously annoyed at you, and how poor executed the rescue mission has been.

The Original comes out of the door, finds his target and fires. In a panicked effort, the guard attempts to hurriedly get out of harms way, but fails. Your shot buries itself deep into his right shoulder and after the resounding echo of the rifle shot, you swear you hear bone break. The guard cries out and falls to the ground. One of the other guards, in one fluid motion grabs the scruff of the downed guard's neck and barrels through one of the office doors, bringing the both of them to safety. The last remaining gaurd then dives through the now open door (the one the other guard just opened) firing off a shot as he goes, but misses you by at least a foot. From inside you here one of the guards say "Let him go, we're out gunned and there's no space to manuever here."

Andrew/ Vox Populi

There is silence in the conference room for a moment before the Mayor says "I believe we have done all we can for now. We've gotten everyone on the same page and that is the most we can hope for at the current time. You members of the federal government need to report this information to your superiors, but only those with class 7 security clearence or higher. Report to them in person, no documentation of this meeting is allowed. I believe that we can all agree that a new organization needs to set up to aid us in this time, but at the same time, the handful of us here don't have the right or authority for such action. Keep in touch, and good luck. Meeting adjurned unless there are other queries..."

If you don't have anything else to add, everyone gets up, shakes a few hands and then exits the room in silence, and exits City Hall in an obvious hurry.

Pulse/Nos/Reaper

After waiting for a bit, there is a bit of sudden activity. You quickly discover that the Lt. General has just returned with the Mayor, and both are on their way here. The door to the hangar opens and the Mayor, Titan, Inferno and obviously the Lt. General enter the hangar, with the stationed guards saluting them as they enter. The new arrivals shake hands (after INferno extinguishes his) and exchange pleasentries with Pulse and Nos, introducing themselves, thanking them for all you've done, etc. before they turn their attention to Reaper.

The atmosphere gets a little more tense as the Mayor approaches the cage and looks at Reaper, a man who had preevious tried to assassinate him (for all he knows anyways). "Well Mr. Reaper, we meet again. I honestly did not expect this meeting to be so soon, nor did I expect you to bring yourself into custody willingly, but here we are. So let us start off with what we know, we know that you are a murderer and you have been granted powers, which you used to kill. You then attempted to attack me, and where quickly apprehended, and hospitalized. Upon your recovery, we sent Dr. Fritz over to evaluate your mental stability. We have her notes from that event..." hold up a clip board with some notes on it, much like the one Dr. Fritz had, except for one detail: you distinctly remember there being no writing what so ever on Fritz's clipboard. "What happened next we don't know, so before we go any further, would you please reaccount the details of that event."

================================================

Alright, I'm out of free time, I'll be back later.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Alright, I can accept your secrecy - but you have to accept that, even without directly attempting to do so, I will inevitably discover what your powers are. But perhaps when we are more used to one another you will mind that less".

"I do have a task for you now, if you're willing. I will explain what it is and why it's important".

"I need to find out what the chemical signature of the bombs used in the building explosion was. Do you have - ah, wait - I'll presume you don't have a scientific background".

"All manufactured explosives are produced with a chemical fingerprint. It allows us to say which company produced it and then with some effort we can usually trace back the sales batch. I wouldn't rule out that the bombs had explosives from a number of different sources, or that they were stolen".

"If we find we're dealing with manufactured explosives then we have a lead we can pursue".

"What would be even more interesting is if there isn't a manufactured chemical signature. That would tell us even more. It takes a long time to make that much explosive yourself - unless the individual can simply magic explosives out of thin air. The explosion was only 36 hours after the mutation - making your own explosive, planning and carrying out that plan in 36 hours is just about impossible. Which would mean the explosion was not the work of... for want of a better phrase, one of us. Or at the very minimum it would have to one of us who was planning to blow up a large building before the early hours of Saturday morning".

"If you could obtain a sample lifted by forensics, that would suffice, but might be difficult. The site itself will be sealed for days, if not weeks, and you appreciate I am rather too public to be caught in the act of lifting the sample myself. The police will be performing this examination already - as we speak. They'll be doing all the leg work, if you like, I just need to know what they know".

"What do you say, Crow?"

[Wiz]

Pulse

Pulse pleasantly greets everyone, he is particularly interested to see the mayor, for he has a feeling this man will set the tone for the days to come here in Rainport. After the mayor approaches Reaper and asks his questions, Pulse waits to see what the self-avowed murderer will say in his own defense.

[Glawackus]

Andrew/Vox Populi

Andrew heads back to his office to catch up on office type stuff (voicemail, paperwork, et cetera), and attempts to get the list of the mutants registered so far...and any reports of unregistered ones.

[Raven T.]

Alex

Excerpts from a personal journal entry, Oct. 31, 2014

There have been many conspiracy theories floating around the internet, likely from people with too much time on their hands. Some people believe that everything that is happening stems from some unseen puppet master pulling our strings. As a D&D aficionado from high school and college, the concept of some "DM" or "GM" running the show is not alien (it is a central tenant of many religious factions, as well,) but the idea that the government or another such agency is setting these events into motion cannot be grounded in reality. Balchem knew nothing about the instability of the chemical. As such, they did not notify Forthwind which led to the events that have brought us all to today.

These theories hinge from the fact that there was an unknown man believed to have set a series of explosives at the structural fire that proved to be the first meeting of the more heroic folks who had been affected by the accident. There is another, more rational explination: someone...hero, villain, or government agent...wanted to know the extent of the power exhibited by the heroes present. It is evident that he does not want them dead...at least, not yet, or he would have blown the building with them inside. It is also evident that this was not about the bystanders, otherwise he would have blown it BEFORE the heroes got there and, quite possibly, have taken out some of the firefighters in the process.

Are we merely playing out roles in some universal play? Possibly; in the famous words of The Bard, "All the world's a stage." However, was this event carefully scripted, right down to who was affected and who wasn't? Not likely...otherwise, they will be sorely disappointed over the part I'm going to play in this drama.

But we must touch on the others affected to understand how to go about our takeover...

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper nods respectfully as the dignitaries enter, then speaks, "Dr. Fritz entered the room and asked me details of my previous life, which I can no longer recall. Most of my past before the mutation is now lost to me. As I spoke, she continued to write on her pad. When I finished, she set it aside. There was no writing on the paper. I looked into her eyes and saw the cold eyes of a remorseless killer. It was like staring into the cruel abyss of death itself. She laughed and said to me, 'Until we meet again, my prey.' She then faded away and vanished, no doubt with some form of power caused by the explosion. As she vanished, several of the lights in the room burst, casting the room into darkness. I merged with the shadows and fled."

"Why did I flee? There were several reasons. First, I did not want Fritz to escape unpursued, but there was no trace of her anywhere. Second, I had begun for the first time to feel the weight of the dead pressing down upon me, and I feared for my tenuous hold on sanity. Had I remained, helpless with my memories, I expect that my mind would have been destroyed by the guilt. So I fled. I set of to return to my home, and I came across some thugs attempting to mug someone. I assisted him, and at the time he is probably preparing for an assault on the gangster D-Train, who the thugs worked for. At any rate I layed low after that until the fire."

"When I noticed the fire, I immediately made my way there, keeping myself hidden for obvious reasons. I made my way into the building and rescued a small girl, who I moved to a nearby rooftop for later removal by a super without an arrest warrant. I then reentered the building and found a psychotic old man, and it appeared that he had started the fire, judging from the gasoline spilled over the room and the pyromantic ravings scrawled on the walls. I incapacitated him and called for help, leaving him to be found by another of the supers on the scene. At this point I returned home and, noticing the gathering of supers near the fire, returned to turn myself in.

That one life saved, measured against the hundreds I had killed, may seem a small thing, but it was the difference between hope and despair for me. And so I came here, to accept your judgment. I ask for my freedom, to redeem myself and undo the wrongs of my life, but I do not expect it. If I deserved mercy, then I would not need it. I do not defend my actions, for they were the actions of an animal. What I do say is that I am a changed man. No longer will my hands be stained with the blood of the innocent. No longer will I be haunted by the ghosts of those long dead. Only those who prey upon the weak will have need to fear me, and even they will not die by my hand. Never again will anyone, good or evil, human or mutant, die by my hands. But as for now, my life is in your hands. What is your decision?" His voice is that of one resigned to his fate, marching stoically on towards the gallows. All that kept him alive was the small flame of hope in his heart, fed by the memory of the girl he had saved. This would be the time when hope became reality, or when all hope died.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Upon hearing the official group approaching the hangar, Nosferatu leans over and turns off the portable TV. If this was to go as expected, such tense discussions would run more smoothly without an advert suddenly blaring the offers at Disco Dan's Discount Derby. As the four new arrivals enter the room, the gravity of the situation sinks in. Amoung the people here, there was enough physical and political power to level the city or plunge it into a terrible war. Of course, there was also the chance that this 'accident' could lead to a new golden age for humanity. The potential medical breakthroughs that could be achieved, even with- Nosferatu halts his line of thought. What was important was the here and now. And it would take a force of mental effort to ensure that an amusing pun would not slip past his lips. Humour was a great way to diffuse tension, so it was a natural instinct for 'Robert' in normal situations. Needless to say, within the guise of Nosferatu meeting with powerful mutates and military figures, this was (very, very) far from a normal situation.

After greeting the newcomers in a friendly manner, Nosferatu stands to the side, listenning intently to the exchange.

[PlasticSoldier]

{**** it}
{Remember kiddies always save your work before restarting your computer}

Orig. sprints over to the place they were piling the loot and stuffs a few handfuls of money and valuables in his pockets, preferring money over items and prefering the most valuable. Then he sprints down the hallway and rushes into the security room and points his gun at the guy grappling him or alternatively anyone in the room with a gun. He'll say Excuse me. RELEASE HIM OR YOUR DOOMED! DOOMED I SAY!

Spending an Action Point
1d20+21 [roll0]
Note: If I'm shot at by the guards in the hall I ignore it and continue.
Messed up roll. 1d20 21=27 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1450208/)

[BloodyAngel]

Natasha

That makes sense. I knew getting in touch with him was a good idea! I'm sure he's testing if I can do what I say too... but I can't blame him after being so secretive about everything. As long as he genuinely wants to help... that's fine. Tasha thought to herself, feeling a bit more comfortable with her potential new alliance. I just hope I CAN do what I said. I'm... not really a spy. But I can really make a difference. I have to try.

Tasha pushed a lock of dark hair from her face and stared off into the distance as she spoke. This was going to be quite a trial.

I will try. It may take time, but I will do what I can. Something tells me you are a patient man. She finally replied into the voice-changing machine, Perhaps if things go well... and I believe I can trust you... We can meet in person. But until then, this will have to do. I will contact you if I find anything. Have a good night, Professor.

*Click*

Tasha slumped back into her seat and took a few deep breaths. That was not so bad. She did not know why, but she figured she could trust Dark. At least... for this. He had just as much to worry about as her if there was a crack-down on mutants. Plus, she couldn't place it, but something about the man made her want to believe that he was sincere. Still... better to not take chances.

Jotting down the number Dark had given her to his private line, she started her car and drove off.... detouring only long enough to toss her new "untraceable" cell phone into the river. The voice-changer, she could keep for now. She would need it if she contacted Dark again. For now, she had to get back to her dorm... She had a date for tonight.

------------------

Tasha slipped into her dorm room and checked the clock. 8:47... almost fifteen minutes early. Close, but she had made it. Just a little bit to clean up and slip into something nice before Draven came by. And to decide how much she wanted to tell him. Looking into the mirror in her bathroom, she flipped back her hair and smiled. Things were going to get hectic... but she did her best work under pressure.

(and from here... I just wait for Draven to come by. :smallamused: )

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon (how long has it been since we saw that second guy anyway?)

Professor Dark hung up the phone.

He thought about the impudence with which this Crow had snapped at him and briefly considered unpleasant revenge for the sleight. The thought hung in his mind for several seconds and he turned it, this way and that, enjoying the way it sparkled.

But revenge, like all sparkling things, was a bauble for a lesser being. He was not some petty Pharaoh or Tzar - he was the Nile: he was the Russian winter.

Besides, the lesson was useful in itself. He was not a poker player by instinct, he was a discoverer of secrets. He would need to be more careful when he met the other mutants tomorrow. And should this Crow actually manage to deliver the information, well, every good boy deserves fudge.

Every good boy deserves fudge? Where had that come from? Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain. King Phillip Came Over From Geneva, Switzerland. The lesson? Oh Be A Fine Girl, Kiss Me Right Now - Smack!

Mnemonics? Was he forgetting something?

Of course. Big Elephants Can Always Use Small Elephants. He hadn't thought about that since he was four years old, sitting at the worn writing desk in the high attic room of his childhood home. The room's only window, thin and tall, overlooked a summer garden.

Because, he had written on the paper in front of him. Because. One hundred times at his father's instruction: you will do what I say because I told you to. You will do what I say because I told you to.

Out in the garden his mother was hanging out washing bathed in sunlight and the smell of mown grass. A blush of purple under her eye was not concealed entirely by the blush on her cheek. Because.

A door in his mind slammed shut with a sound like thunder. And a voice in his head that was not entirely his own spoke. You may not sleep, but heaven knows you dream.

The sound came again... it was not thunder, it was the door. Dark dismissed the entire text of Poe's The Raven which leapt unbidden to his mind. He did not need and certainly did not wish to be reminded of that poem now.

He rose from the Chesterfield where he had been lying - his eyes open, staring at the ceiling - and opened the door of the house. Opened onto a face full of anticipation and cunning. Keen and dangerous, like a shark dressed in that outdoor coat. Dark paid the compliment of avoiding pretence.

"Oh," he said, in acknowledgement, rather than surprise. "It's you. I was wondering who you'd be. You'd better come in".

[Raven T.]

Alex

Is he psychic?

No, as the old saying goes, great minds think alike. He had to know that this public display of hubris would not go unnoticed. Does he expect me to pop out of a shadow, threaten him to shut up or meet a violent end? No; this will be a friendly meeting. This, like everything else, is business.

"Quite." He took the good doctor's offer and stepped in confidently. No matter what happens, no matter how right...or wrong...he is, we display no emotional affirmation either way. "I can only speculate as to why YOU think I'm here. However, I would like to say this now: I am not here to threaten you in any way, shape, or form. This will be a civilized discussion and will remain so until you break said civility." Alex bowed curtly before Dark. Shall we retire somewhere comfortable or do this here in the hall?"

You've dealt with guys like this all your life. They attempt to grab the upper hand with an egotistical introduction, looking for weak chinks in your armor. There is no weakness that he can exploit, nothing he can say that will rattle you. He will not get his way; we will speak as equals...or I will prove superior. There is no other way.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Just through here is fine," Dark says as he closes the door.

He leads the way through into a large room that was probably intended for a rather grand living room and dining room when the house was originally built. Like so many homes, it has taken on the eccentricities of its owner. Now a cluster of heavy, well-upholstered green leather couches lounge like a herd of drowsy cattle around a roaring fireplace. They are much too big for the room - to the extent that windows much have been removed to get them in.

At the other end of the room, two desks have been abutted in an L-shape to form a large work area. Two desktop computers and several neat piles of papers cover this area, except for a completely free square of green leather writing surface. Behind all this and randomly placed around the room are filing cabinets of various sizes - chosen for sheer utility rather than their aesthetic properties.

The room has a sense of being recently cleaned and, despite the number of strange and unusal items, there is a definite sense of order.

But more noticeable is that the room must be at least 100 degrees.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offers, sitting down on one of the couches. Dark appears, and is, quite relaxed.

If Alex asks for a drink, Dark will provide and will continue

"No threats? Ah, but of course the mention of threats is the implication that they could be made," Dark says, though quite conversationally. "However, for my part, I can say that I am not in the business of murdering people and burying them in the cellar. The cellar is in fact filled with junk, as is the attic. Any threats I offered would be quite hollow until I've had a chance to do a proper clear out".

"I've been waiting for the person who was going to come and divide the world with me - like a full-size game of Risk. I don't object. This is not Highlander and none of us are so powerful that we can act without regard for all of the others".

"However we're not up to a full cast of players in our story yet. The federal government has yet to intercede. Even the best estimates you have of identified mutants - which will doubtless be better than mine - will be far short of the true number".

"But we're getting ahead of ourselves and I'm denying you your pitch. Why don't you tell me your vision, I'll tell you mine, and we'll see if we are to be friends or enemies".

"Oh, and your name of course".

[Raven T.]

Alex

It was like watching the beginnings of a chess game, both players jockeying for position to strike a decisive blow. The heat did bother him some, but it was a dry heat and he gave no indication of that fact. "A nice wine, if you have it; tea if you don't." Alex found himself the best couch and made himself comfortable, leaving his hat and mask on for now. However, he did afford himself a smirk and soft giggle at the mention of the messy cellar.

"I suppose I should answer your points in the order you provided them, then. You have already made the groundwork of your plan known to anyone with a brain stem and my line of work is all about the exchange of information. As such, I already have the advantage...however, I am willing to level the playing field.

"First, your analogy of the game before us as Risk is quite astute...and it is a game that I have not played since college. One just has to remember to wipe out the guy turtling in Australia before he actually becomes a threat. However, unlike Risk, we may wind up playing with the same pieces instead of as two allied armies." It wasn't in Alex's nature to tip his hand so early, but, as he mentioned, this was about trading information for information.

"Secondly, you might be surprised how quickly the government is locking this whole thing down. All you need is an internet connection and a little bit of diligence to uncover this. However, once trust has been established, I will be more willing to let you know what I know about this whole drastic mess.

"Trust is the biggest issue here. I did not come to play the role of salesman any more than the mafia enforcer. You are quite astute, I have come with the desire to further ascertain what kind of ally...or enemy...you could be. For now, I will leave you with some food for thought: I have no desire to rule the world. My desire is to RUN the world. I'm a businessman; it's what i was born to do and it is what I love.

"A name...'What's in a name?' This comes back to trust; if you know my name, you know enough to destroy me." Alex leans back some, tenting his fingers. "However, it is quite obvious that any of us could potentially destroy anyone else with utter anonymity, so that shoots my reasoning right to hell. For now, we will simply start with a first name: Alex." Queen's knight to queen's bishop six... The game was fully under way now. Sure, he couldn't trust Dark any further than he could throw him, but the feeling was likely mutual...and there were plenty of other men he had done business with that he found to be unsavory and that had worked out fine for all parties involved.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Tea might be better," Dark says. "What with room temperature being what it is. If you'll excuse me".

The professor returns a minute later bearing a wooden tray and various crockery which is, like the rest of the house's furnishing, utilitarian and mismatched. Dark encourages you to continue while he pours.

"Ah," Dark says when Alex has finished. "I think I can understand that motivation quite well. You see I am a scientist, not by title or accident, but by instinct and profession. My... yes, I don't think it would be too misleading to call it an obsession, is with the principles of order in the universe".

And here is the electricity. He leans forward ever so slightly, a degree or two; the almost imperceptible gesture of being brought into a confidence. Whatever the merits of his arguments, Dark has a voice like history. Carving words out of the air like Egyptians carved stone - to last forever.

"What a ridiculous accident of fate it is that someone born in Alabama should enjoy priveliges denied to those born in Azerbaijan, or that they should operate under different restrictions. Let us judge the unequal worth of excellence under equal conditions and afford everyone born the chance to excel".

"How absurd that one bale of cotton changing into one pair of jeans should require the use of a dozen currencies and the permission of as many bureaucrats. How inefficient borders and nations are, and how counterproductive. Half of the 20th century and hundreds of millions of lives across the world were wasted in wars which we know today achieved nothing. We simply exchanged the Empires of Britain and France for the Empires of America, Russia and China. And in two hundred years we will see different empires again, rising and falling on a wave of their own self-importance".

"Presidential candidates live in fear of saying one national language for America - as if only knowing how to speak Spanish was a bold and individualistic choice, rather than a circumstance that condemns to an existence of grinding poverty. Unnecessary poverty".

"One language, one law, one currency, one world". The word that Dark did not add was the one which mattered most. Forever.

"Let us not talk about Utopia, because that implies equality of outcome. I believe that those who work harder must receive more. I did not acquire my abilities and then join the world's wealthiest one percent. I went to school for more two decades. And I presume your life's achievements are not simply the result of the last two days".

"I believe in opportunity. I believe in hard work. And not based on ideology, but because the hungry always improve faster. History is an account of those who wanted it more, taking it. And I intend to unlock the full potential of humanity".

Dark takes a drink of his tea from a NASA mug.

"So you see we are not entirely at odds. Not quite Managing Director and Chairman of the Board, but certainly the opportunity for... what is the business term... better partnership working?"

[Raven T.]

Alex

Dark was good. His thoughts were rational, his goals attainable, and his methods, though still secret, would be functional. It was apparent from the surroundings and whathaveyou that he believed in simplicity and utilitarianism over frills and lace. In short, he was a man.

Where Dark's voice was that of history, Alex's voice was steady, calculating, and dispassionate. It carried the weight of ten thousand board meetings...and the authority of a mafia Don.

"Ah, but, depending on who you ask, Alabama and Azerbaijan aren't that far off as far as poverty goes. So you advocate a complete, total dictatorship. None too surprising. All men who desire power want to be the man at the top...the ONLY man at the top. I can see a few flaws in your 'one world' idea...

"First off, let us consider WHY man has waged wars and created countries. We are all separated by idealogical and linguistic barriers. Demanding some poor Chinese farmer to learn English will be a waste of time. Religious differences, as well, come into play. Getting the 'big three' to agree on ANYTHING is a chore even with the most liberal members, not to mention the insane fundamentalists on all sides.

"Secondly, control is an issue. Even 'commanding' legions of superpowered beings isn't the way to go, as those you have put out the call to are, as you so bluntly put it on TV, HEROES. I wonder, did you ever read a comic book or see one of the myriad of movies that came out in the last several decades? Heroes are there to foil the villain's plans and create the 'great underground resistance movement.'" Alex smirked some. However, creating some to do our bidding isn't out of the question, but that should be my "ace in the hole." What fun is it to tell him everything?

"I must admit, it sounds like you are trying to create a paradox: a totalitarian military dictatorship that rewards ambition, drive, and desire. You must realize that ambition can know no bounds; it could all fall through the floor and into someone else's hands, who could potentially undo all that we have...and will...struggle to bring to fruition. Do you plan on having death squads to kill anyone who steps beyond their station?

"You are correct in assuming that it took more than the recent events to make me the man I am. We both have our PhD. Though I must admit I may not have gone to the same schools you did, I wasn't partying every weekend. We busted our asses off to get this far and now, thanks to serendipity, we have the means to seize everything we are owed.

"Utopia? It's pointless to even THINK about a Utopian society, as they cannot exist, save on paper. Communism is a utopia on paper, but we've seen how it works out in practice. Besides, I do not wish to create one.

"Despite my objections to your current idea, we are both on the same page in at least one respect. Current events have sparked the next phase of human evolution. People, affected or not, must adapt or die. The cosmos is trying to bring our current 'Reverse Darwinism' into check. It is time for someone to take the reigns of the planet and steer it in the right direction. Overpopulation is a horrible problem, lending itself to global warming, deforestation, and the ruin of the natural world. We cannot pose dominion over nature; the planet rebells against us. Oversights like this are what led to the current state of affairs.

"My plans so far have been subtle in nature. In truth, while you are attempting to use the tools you feel are most wise, I have been using the ones available to me. I have been looking into the events surrounding our sudden change in abilities and I believe it is because of incompetence on many levels.

"For now, I will give you two bits that I know. First off, the companies that are responsible for it had no knowledge of the chemical itself. Balchem, the ones who had it stored, failed to tell Forthwind that it is unstable at room temperature. This is because Balchem didn't know themselves. Apparently, they've been using more...illicit means to snap up ideas and other companies to pad their R&D department, often at great fiscal loss. I can imagine the shareholders are none too happy about what has already occurred, ESPECIALLY if that last bit of information gets out. People do NOT like to lose money.

"The other is the speed at which the government is moving on this. National Guard troops are already here...and even more are en route. Stories all over the internet, from credible sources and not, are talking of martial law being called into effect to protect the 'innocent.' I think you can grasp the gravity of what that means.

Alex lounged more, sipping on his tea slowly. He had made his big play for now and decided to let Dark make what he would out of the information provided.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"No, oppressive rule of that sort is not necessary. Anything won by the sword can be lost by it. Iron fists rust. But you leave the details of that to me".

He listens intently to the recount of Alex's information.

"Indeed? A genuine accident? That seems unlikely. What's more likely is that both Balchem and Forthwind are pawns - willing, witting or otherwise".

A smile spreads slowly over Dark's face.

"You're looking for the chemical, aren't you? And, let me guess, because Balchem have been stealing whatever they can get their hands on, they don't know anything about it".

"I do hope you keep me informed of your progress in that respect. But let me give you something to mull over. If the chemical was a powerful mutagen and it was stolen, why isn't the creator looking for it? Why, in fact, isn't there a billion dollar lawsuit being filed against Balchem as we speak?"

"The information you want is one step back. Because, chemistry being what is is, simply having the formula gets you nothing. How you combine the chemicals is what's important - and it's clear Balchem doesn't have that information".

"I had expected the national guard. I had expected them to be on the streets this morning, in fact. The mayor must be working overtime. Martial law is unlikely, because this situation doesn't meet the requirements of article one, section nine. The president may declare a state of emergency and take control of the situation - which affords him almost all of the powers of martial law, or the governor may take control, in which case the national guard are simply operating as normal law enforcement".

"Civics," Dark says. "I dated a girl who was a member of the ACLU".

"I am not surprised. In fact this suits me very well".

"And now I must tell you something of the obstacle we both face. The person who bombed the building today was the Devil".

Dark finished his tea.

"I should explain that I'm an atheist. I have no metaphysical leanings whatsoever and I can scarce contain my contempt for those who do. The individual has put themselves forward with this nom-de-guerre; this persona. And in answer to your earlier question - that is exactly what's in a name. If you're concerned about what happens when shareholders discover they're losing money, imagine what happens when the religious right realises that Lucifer is walking the streets of Rainport, blowing up buildings".

"His intention, as I understand it, and my contact with him was brief, is what the Devil's plan always is. Limitless destruction. This afternoon was nothing. While it might serve its purpose in the short term, longer term nobody's ambitions are helped by that approach".

"Now imagine what happens when the Devil rises... and you beat him... And I think you will come to understand the beginning of my plan".

[Raven T.]

Alex

"Indeed. It seems you are willing to indulge the idea that this is one giant conspiracy plotted by 'Big Brother.' Frankly, I am not ready to accept that until I see some concrete proof. Just because some whack-job weekend Satanist has let power go to his head doesn't mean that he's a governmental puppet. Power corrupts, and we have been gifted with absolute power. It is to be expected that something like this happens.

"I understand that the information I need does not lie with Balchem...and yet, it does. From where I sit, and with what resources I have, it is the linchpin in the chain. If I can get to them, I can backtrack to where it originated from. I know having the chemical itself will do me no good; that's why I'm building my own company through completely legal means to mop up after this disaster. If you get ahold of the companies, you get their notes. From there, all you need is the right R&D people to crack the secret, reproduce the reaction...and develop an antidote.

"That's right. I want to develop an antidote. It would be fitting if the world's villains were stripped of their power when brought to justice instead of being locked in an asylum. Remove the threat and the public is safe...until the next crazy with a desire to rob and plunder comes along. A two way street..." Alex tented his fingers some. A little more of the story was revealed, but he wasn't giving much more away than what Dark could likely observe on his own.

"I mention martial law as a potential because you know what people do when they are scared...though, it seems like you are counting on this. One thing we differ on; I work best under less chaotic circumstances. The world is beginning to change faster and faster...and it is a little overwhelming. However, I will either adapt or be destroyed. Such is the way of things.

"I understand what you are ready to do. In a way, our plans are similar. Use chaos and fear to set up law and order. Fear, though, is a poor ruling tool. Every failed dictator in history has ruled by fear. I have a lot of trepidation about your ideas, but the world has changed a lot in two days. The rules have been rewritten and your plan has a good chance of success...but I am concerned for the long term picture. How do you intend to maintain rule over your new order?"

Alex remained silent for several moments, but gave indications that he was still thinking. "But, as you said, I'll leave the details of that to you. Like I said, I have no desire to rule the world; I merely want to run it behind the scenes. If we agree to a partnership, you are more than willing to be the face and 'ruler,' but all I ask is that you consult me in matters of policy and give the 'devil' his due." He wasn't sure what Dark would think of that comment, but it is what he aspired to. Should Dark think him weak for not WANTING to be top cat, then so be it. It's not mediocrity to desire to be the second-in-command or even co-emperor.

He also hadn't made any motion or comment about Dark's distaste for those who practice religion. It wasn't...and wouldn't...be an issue between them...

As long as Dark didn't institute some sort of religious cleansing once he was in power.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

Davan considers the offer a couple of moments before replying

"Well, I don't really have anything to do for the rest of the day, I may as well. What do you have?"

[Xerxes Shadow]

"Actually, it's happening tomorrow. I'm meeting someone who can supposedly disguise me as a little punk at 5:00 PM. Reaper is helping as well, and I think we'd both feel a little more comfortable with some extra muscle on our side. We're meeting at (wherever the meeting place was). Their hangout is at (wherever their hangout was). Can you make it?"

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion

As he approached the second set of automated doors that would admit him to the hospitals lobby, memory flashed unbidden into his minds eye.

The blood upon the sidewalk, the smell of it so cloying in the cold dry air. The glazed look in her eyes as he carried her dying body in his arms, her life slipping between his fingers as he looked on helplessly, the leaden feeling of utter emptlyness crushing him from within even as the ER staff took her from him.
Yes, and the rage as well, like a blizzard, numbing his soul, burying his emotions in lifeless ice...so many years ago.

What has become of me now I wonder? Now that I am posessed with so much power I have yet to comprehend the fullness of it's scope? It's been so long since I cared about...anything but what I sought.
...I don't know.

He narrowed his eyes as the doors slid aside.

But I soon will.

[geez3r]

Wow, looking back on the IC thread, this is gonna be messy.... Ah well no time for complaining. I'm mentioning any important NPC's present in case anyone forgot what was going on (I know I had to remind myself more than once, especially because the last full DM post I did was back on page 20). Oh, and there seems to be a little misconception about the building exploding earlier on in the day. The combined efforts of the heroes and the fire fighters, allowed everyone to get out safely. The only people that didn't make it out was the family that Pulse found, and the 4 fire-fighters that went to investigate. The explosion was so calculated and exact, that if you were 15ft away from the building, you were fine. The number of people injured or killed can be measured on just your fingers and toes.

Andrew/ Vox Populi
{You are currently right up to about when the fire and eventual explosion took place}
You've got all the standard political beurocratic paperwork waiting for you back at your office. It's boring work, but still needs to be done. You manage to scrounge up a list of the registered mutants: Inferno, Titan, Bolt, Jen, Hound, Pulse, Nosferatu, The Man, Legion, Smoke (NPC guy mentioned briefly)... {I can't remember anymore off the top of my head, I'll have a look-see back through the thread to see if I can find more after I finish up with the inital stuff.} Un-registered: Natienal, Gust, (you don't know their names, just the bit you gathered from their activities at the fire) and some guy down at dock 7, who's helping them load and unload the boats. None of the mutants down at the hospital are registered yet, because most of them are in no condition to go anywhere.

Pulse/Nos/Reaper/Mayor/Lt. General/ Dozen Armed Guards

There is dead silence as Reaper reaccounts the details of his little excursion. When the Reaper finishes, the Mayor's face remains unreadable. You all know that he is trying to make quite possibly the hardest descision of his political career, but it doesn't show on his face. He and the Lt. General walk a bit away from everyone else and start conversing in hushed voices. They do this for easily 10 minutes, but it feels a lot longer.

They eventually come back after their discussion. The Mayor looks at the Reaper for a moment before saying "Well Mr. Reaper, for reasons I don't even fully understand myself, I believe you. What I don't get is that I know Dr. Fritz is a personal friend of mine and has been one for years. Not once have I ever considered her to be even close to as dangerous as you claim. I think you are telling the truth, and therefore I don't think it was Fritz that interviewed you, it might have been an imposter of some sort, possibly someone has been given powers themselves.

So that brings us back to the topic of your sentencing. You have quite frankly, a very large debt to society, and more importantly, a personal desire to repay that debt. Therefore, I propose a compromise. If you agree to work for the government for an amount of time equal to a month for each life you claimed, then that will fulfill your debt to society. Do we have a deal?"

Murky/ Neo-Mafia Enforcer

Just as you enter the shadows, the metal grating for the front of the shop comes crashing down, cutting out all sight of the outside world. You hear some wood creek, and in the back of the shop a trap door opens out, and from inside you see quite possibly the largest man you've ever seen in you entire life.

He bears a striking resemblance to this guy:

http://www.nintendoworldreport.com/media/11450/4/23.jpg
but wears an obviously tailored pair of khaki pants (black) and a light brown pair of Lugz [/product placement]. But what is really intimidating is the gun cannon this guy has. It's like an assault rifle, but bigger and meaner.

The guy surveys the room, obviously looking for you. After a moment of tense silence, a voice from the trap door says "Find anything?" the big guy answers "No, but I know he's here. The shutters wouldn't have closed if the door was open. Be ready for anything, it was probably one of those muties." You hear a few more guns get loaded from within the trap door.

He makes no move to check the condition of the shop keeper.

Kid Zeus/Riff (Rocker guy)/ The Bad Cop

You can tell that the officer is torn. A large part of him wants nothing more than to beat the snot out of the pair of you. But an equally large part of him does not want to be on the recieving end of either your lightning blast, or the sound blast of the other guy. He appears to be mulling it over when you hear some chanting and yelling; it's the crowd Riff was playing for earlier, they're telling the cop to let the pair of you go.

The cop glares at you once more before saying "Alright fine. You punks get away with it this time. But as God as my witness, if either of you step so much as a toe out of line, I will personally bring you down." He stalks away to his squad car, opens the door and then looks back at the pair of you sneering "Have a nice day." in a tone laced with sarcasm, while tipping his hat to you, befre driving off.

When you look down at the rocker, he's still flat on his back, but his hands are folded behind his head as he looks at the sky. With a grunt, he stands up again and dusts himself off. "Two things. 1) That was incredibly bad-ass. 2) Don't mind my dad, he's a [insert favorite insult here]."

Jason/ Jen (speedy nurse)

As you touch Jen, she lets out a piercing scream, and stumbles forward. Her voice cracks badly and she sounds absolutely teriffied "I-I- Can't see!" She gets more and more frantic by the second. "Darkness! Can't See! Can't See! Can't See! Can't See! Help!" She starts hyper ventilating, and then you start seeing a horribly side effect of super speed. It looks like she goes through a complete mental break down in a poorly made stop-motion film, in less than 3 seconds. She winds up about 20ft away from you, clutching herself in the fetal position, shaking violently (again "aided" by super speed) and muttering to herself.

{Jen's got a 3rd level of the Phobia complication (home made) and she just rolled a 1 on her Will save and failed by 20, so I'd say that's a pretty accurate desciption.}

The Man

{I’m being kind and it won’t start stinking until just after your meeting with the good doctor. This is a little after Jason’s time line, so no screaming nurse on the front lawn.}

Upon entering the hospital, the receptionist gives you directions to Dr. Wilson’s office up on the top floor. As you near the door, you see Dr. Wilson coming from the opposite direction. You reach the door at the same time, ”Ah right on time, please come in.” he says after shaking you hand. It’s a relatively humble office. He’s got one wall covered by a book case, full of medical journals, another wall houses a window with a great view of the city, the third wall is plastered with 2 dozen certificates, degrees and the like, and the final wall is bare except for the door you just entered. A single desk, with a rather expensive and powerful looking computer and several note books sits in the middle of the room. Wilson takes one chair and signals for you to sit down in one of the comfortable looking chairs opposite him. “I believe I have a vague idea as to why you are here, but if you’ll indulge me, please tell me in your own words.”

Gust

As you decide to go on patrol, you quickly notice a high speed chase. There's a blue sports car starting to gain on 3 squad car following it. It's on the "highway" on the very outskirts of the eastern section of the city, he's headed towards the south section. There are 4 lanes in each direction, and traffic is minimal.

{If I missed anyone let me know.}

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper is silent for a moment, thinking. He then says, "I believe that the total currently stands at four hundred and seventy...two, I believe. That comes out to around forty years. If that is your wish, then it shall be so." There is something subtly different in his voice, a peace that was missing before. He feels as if a great burden had been lifted from his chest. Forty years, and the debt would be paid. He would gladly serve for four hundred. He felt like jumping for joy, but he retained his composure, aided by his lack of any discernable facial features. He asked, "Now, what exacly would this service entail? I do not feel I would be redeemed by four decades of cleaning up litter."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

As the verdict is read out, Nosferatu feels a strong sense of relief, and an oddity that he can't place. In the minutes waiting for the Mayors decision, every possible scenario had raced through his head, from the mundanity of a prison sentance, to the extremes of Reaper being made the new mayor, or the Mayor revealing himself as a cunning doppleganger and ordering them all executed. Sometimes a mind honed by years of RPGs led to some interesting conclusions...

With a minor jolt, Nosferatu recognises the source of the odd feeling. He could practically feel the air shake as people who were holding their breath let it out. Since the change, Nosferatu had no need to breath, and so was not holding his breath when the decision was given out. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it was a minor concern. Despite this, the sheer sense of "you are not human any more" threatened to whell up within him. With a force of effort, Nosferatu pushes the feeling away, but still it niggles at the back of his mind, like a deep rooted itch.

Returning his mind to the present, Nosferatu looked around as Reaper replied to his verdict. Thankfully Reaper had refrained from jumping into the air yelling "Yahoo, suckers!" and was now moving to the number crunching. Nosferatu knew he should remain silent, but the moment of tension had passed.

"Hmm, you could get some job in the government. CIA, FBI, something like that. Not sure if you would look the part in a black uniform though, probably not your colour."

Nosferatu's smile can be heard in his voice. For a moment he contemplates whether he should be so happy about a murderer just getting community service, but shakes the thoughts away. And of course, this seriously reduces the likelyhood that the Mayor will order anything seriously anti-mutate if he is willing to be reasonably with Reaper.

[Nelphine]

Murky

Murky watches as the metal grating comes crashing down, and then the Giant comes out of the trap door.. and the Giant's cannon comes out of the trap door.. Murky mutters to himself 'Wow.. I really hope he's one of us muties.. no one should be that big!'

Murky then walks up to the trap door, still covered in the protective greyness of the shadow world, and looks down. 'Maybe there's something I can use down there... hmm..' Murky then blinks through the shadows to the farthest open spot he can see inside the trap door.

{OOC: I'm trying to figure out just what I'm getting into, and how many guys will be there. At this point I think the big guy is still in the trap door, but if at any point he leaves (or is already out) I might try to take out all the little guys while he's gone. I'm also looking for unattended weapons so that I might increase my own little arsenal when I let loose havoc. If however I cannot see past the big guy into the lower area (and therefore cannot shadow hop down), I'll move to a spot where I will have the most cover possible from things in the store were I in the coloured world, but am still within about 15' of him.}

[PlasticSoldier]

(Missed me.)
(By the way Andrew, for my thing in the registry I put anonymous for name and alias and only mentioned healing powers.)

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"The enemy - I don't presume him a government puppet. Just someone very focussed. You will be amazed at how the world can turn on a single will".

"I wouldn't seek to teach history, but it seems to me that every successful dictator in history used fear too. What undoes dictators is age, madness and treachery. But I take your point and again I would advise that I have almost a whole deck up my sleeve".

"As to your own ambitions, I have no objections. Should you require assistance with anything that fits my skillset... well, you know where to find me".

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion
St. Pauls Hospital

((Man, this secret ID thing is tough. Especially now that I realized that what was going on was actually happening outside. :smallredface: I'm guessing that it wasn't extremely obvious though, since no one actually corrected me on it. ::smallannoyed: Whatever, I just hope I didn't lose those amazing rolls...If I did, they were 21 for the Sense Motive, and 23 for the Diplomacy. Hopefully someone else read that part and can vouch for me...))

As the first set of doors slid shut and the second set slid aside, revealing the empty lobby beyond, he heard a piercing scream from behind him.
Whirling quickly around and peering through the glass, he could see a figure sitting on the sidewalk, looking toward something that Draven couldn't quite see from his vantage.

Stepping back outside, he approached the scene quickly but carefully, his movements unconsciously agile but cautious as he approached the strange scene.

As he got closer, he saw that the figure upon the sidewalk was a young man, as he stood back up, wearing a look of both fear and anger that twisted his features. His attention, for the time being, seemed locked on a prone figure nearby.

Draven sensed her before he saw her, the alarming sensation of her hyperventilation as her torso rapidly expanded and contracted at a superhuman rate, the inhuman speed at which her body quivered in fear upon the grass. A nurse, dressed in hosptial whites, who obviously posessed super speed, and seemed to be in extreme distress.

I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened here! Too many unstable mutants and too many unpredictable reactions...but she's not going to suffer if I can help it.

Scowling in concern and anger he aproached the boy in the middle of the walk, Draven kept his distance, trying to judge the degree of which this individual was unbalanced or agressive.

"Hey, what's going on here? What's wrong with her?"

Stretching out with his senses, he felt the power contained within the young mans frame, it's energy still in flux, it's energy a discordant mix of thruming, flickering and pulsing that he could feel like a ice pick jabbed into the center of his forehead and right down the middle of his cerebral cortex...and a pain he welcomed.

I am awakening.

"Look, I want to help. I'm a student from the local university, my name's Draven, what's yours?"

After pausing to listen to the young mans response, he continued "Now, I'm sure it was just an accident, but I'm guessing that you have a good idea as to what is wrong with that nice lady over there.
If you can, I suggest you make it stop, or she might...well, be really hurt. I know you don't want that...so either notify someone who works here to bring a sedative, or make end it right now".

He glanced over at the woman as she thrashed on the floor, sensing the waves of eldritch energy shifting within her. He wanted to go to her, perhaps see if he could calm her down, but he didn't want to leave his back exposed to this guy if he ended up being more unbalanced than he appeared.

He stayed ready for anything, hoping that the situation would resolve itself without him having to reveal himself as one of the New-Humans before he had more opportunity to research the condition.

I'm trying to go the RP direction on this one, but it Gnome_4ever decides he wants to keep throwing his little tantrum, I'm willing to back track, roll initiative, and throw down with the guy.

Until then, just to be thorough, this is 2 rounds worth of actions.

1st round, move forward, sense motive [roll0] on Jason, swift action to activate Power Detection, 1PP spent, free action to talk.

2nd round, whole round spent diplomacising with Jason [roll1]. I know he's not an NPC, but I thought it might help with any NPC's that might be listening, including Jen (if she's able to in her "scared Sless state).

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus



The cop glares at you once more before saying "Alright fine. You punks get away with it this time. But as God as my witness, if either of you step so much as a toe out of line, I will personally bring you down." He stalks away to his squad car, opens the door and then looks back at the pair of you sneering "Have a nice day." in a tone laced with sarcasm, while tipping his hat to you, before driving off.

"Creep..." Kid Zeus felt his lip curl in the bully's passing. He hated jerks like that who abused their power just for the sake of feeling superior. He'd known more than one kid in school like that who had tried to scare all of the smaller, weaker kids just because that's how they got off. He'd been in more than a few fights, lost a lot but won a few, to hold up that ideal. Now that he had the power, he aimed to keep that up...protect the weak and the innocent just because it was the right thing to do. Kid Zeus was so lost in thought for a moment he almost didn't notice the rocker guy, Riff, stir.



When you look down at the rocker, he's still flat on his back, but his hands are folded behind his head as he looks at the sky. With a grunt, he stands up again and dusts himself off. "Two things. 1) That was incredibly bad-ass. 2) Don't mind my dad, he's a [insert favorite insult here]."


Kid Zeus actually blushed at the complement. He hadn't even thought about it that way. He'd just gotten full of righteous anger and done what seemed right to him at the time. He scratched behind his head and grinned as Riff continued to talk. #2 was what made him stop and stare. "Wait," he said, surprised, "that was your dad?" He blinked a few times and looked back the way the cop had gone. "I'm sorry. If I'd known, I wouldn't...I mean, you might be getting it worse back home just because of me." he frowned. Damn it. His overactive conscience berated him with thoughts of what might be waiting for Riff once his dad got home and had a few drinks.

"I just- My dad's a cop, too." he stopped and started again. "I mean, you know...back on uh...Krypton."

Great job, idiot. A day on the job and you're already giving off clues to your secret identity. I'll bet Batman didn't screw up like this when he was starting out.

"Look, some guys like me, like us, are having a meeting tomorrow. We're thinking about doing something good with these powers we've got, get organized. Come by. That stuff you can do with the guitar is amazing!" he quickly changed the subject, giving Riff the information about Nosferatu's little get-together. He was then surrounded by a crackling, buzzing aura as he slowly lifted off the ground. "My name's Kid Zeus, by the way! See you around, bro!" he yelled as he rose out of sight behind the next building.

[harmonictempest]

Gust
Day 2, around 8 p.m.

Well, here goes nothing. Almost as soon as he turned over to begin his patrol, he heard three police sirens to his left. Registering even before he turned that the three squad cars were headed in the same direction and quite close together, Gust was unsurprised to see them in pursuit of a blue sports car. He froze, for a moment torn between his resolve and fear. As he forced himself onward, he noticed that the breeze around him was plucking at his clothes as if urging him toward the car chase. Without time to ponder this oddity, he leveled out into his fastest possible flight, and was pleased to find himself keeping up with all but the fastest cars. As he cut across a curve of the highway to put himself in front of the chase, the thought crossed his mind, This is why soldiers love combat, this fear and adrenaline, completely aware of every inch of yourself...what a rush.

Glad to find few other cars on the road, Gust alighted ((alit?)) in the middle of the highway. Pushing his dark hood back to reveal startlingly light blond and white-streaked hair, he saw with a smile that the oncoming cars were a little over a hundred yards away. Perfect. Let's make sure the cops don't lose this guy.

Seeing no reason for unnecessary dramatism, Gust kept his open hands by his side as he turned the winds that had previously been keeping him aloft into a full-blown gale. A small section of highway on the eastern side of Rainport temporarily became home to its very own hurricane ((1)). Focusing hard not to give in and just throw his head back and let the power surge through him, he amped up the power as far as he could, trying to catch the sports car and slow it down or turn it on its side with as little damage as possible to it or the surroundings, especially to the cop cars (which, fortunately for them, had begun dropping slightly behind).

Gritting his teeth as the cars bore down on him, Gust tried to relax and be as ready as possible for what might happen next. Time to make a difference.

((1. Sadly, without the actual storm, rain, and so forth - just really strong winds.))

In crunchy terms:Yay, finally combat! :smallsmile:

-Trying to land just far enough in front of the chase to finish activating Air Mastery just as the sports car enters its range.
-Attempting to wrap the winds under and/or around the car to slow or stop it, or turn it on its side, with as much attention to doing minimal damage as possible.
-Spending an AP if the above is counted as Power Stretching.
-Though Gust is not consciously aware of it (RP reasons only), he is readying an action, which will be triggered if he sees anyone attacking him.

-Power details are in my char sheet.
-I found the details in Elemental Mastery about how fine my control is to be somewhat ambiguous, which is why I was unsure whether I'd need Power Stretching or not.

[blennus]

“The Man”
Day 2: 3:30 PM

“My good doctor, I have much to speak on and as a consequence this may take more time than you can spare, but I will endeavor to be brief. If at any time you have any interjections please let me know. To begin I have four different medical projects to request. I will go over each one in detail, and the reasons why I am requesting these experiments.”

As he began his long explanation he felt strong mental and emotional stirrings within that seemed to empower his speech and clarify his words.
“First, I will begin with the project I mentioned at the press conference. I propose that we research both cellular and sexual reproduction of mutant cells, both with mutant and human gamete donors in as many permutations as possible. There are plentiful reasons for this, as I am sure you know. The chief reason of course is to determine if we are indeed a different species. Why? Well the possible political ramifications are enormous. Do we as mutants also have the same rights as humans? The answer of course must be a resounding Yes, but to ensure that we have those rights we need to act. Without a clear and public knowledge of our genetic compatibility, our rights may remain uncertain.”
“Another reason for this project is to determine the future of mutant-kind. Are we mutants doomed to a reproductive dead end? If each individual mutant is a separate species with no possibility hybrids, we may be destined to disappear from the face of the earth. Perhaps this genetic mambo that went on within our cells has permanently sterilized each mutant. Another possibility is that while mutants cannot reproduce with each other due to the extreme changes to our DNA, we may still be compatible enough with the base human genetic stock that a human-mutant pairing may result in reproductively viable offspring. Hopefully mutants will be completely reproductively compatible with each other as this would be the easiest way to ensure our future. Our future will, of course, fundamentally alter the future of humankind as well, and as such these answers are vital to all.”
“Results of this experiment will also help us determine if powers are inheritable. If they indeed are, then how will these powers be manifested? Will they begin manifesting their powers in the womb? If so this could pose serious health risks to a human woman who is with child by a mutant father. Also will the powers that are inherited be identical or will they vary from generation to generation? Will a human-mutant coupling produce powers different from a mutant-mutant coupling, and if so, how? By gaining knowledge of the mechanics of the inheritance of powers, we may gain greater insight in how these powers actually work.”
“Finally any and all embryonic stem cells that are generated from this experiment can in and of themselves lead to further useful experiments in discovering mutant physiology.”

“The next project that I propose is strongly related to the previous one, but it involves not cell reproduction, but the immune response of donated tissues. As you obviously know until now, human donors have had restrictions on what blood type they can receive mostly because of antigens found on the surface of red blood cells. However with this great change in mutant physiology, our blood may be rejected by human recipients as being foreign and vice versa. This not only applies to blood, but also to organs that are donated. From what my assistant has told me, all attempts at xeno-transplantation have proved unsuccessful, and thus there may be far more problems in mutant-human blood and organ compatibility than simple Rhesus factors and blood types. We need to find out how cells of humans and mutants interact with each other to stem the tide of medical mishaps and organ and blood rejections that may take place. If humans and mutants are not compatible in that sense, it would necessitate the creation of a screening program to separate human from mutant donors. This may also cause some medical shortages for mutants. Organ donors are few enough as it is, and we cannot afford to waste a single organ due to a compatibility mishap. This also brings up the problem of mutant to mutant organ donation. This simply may not even be possible depending on how different our internal makeup has become. Even if it is possible, there may be far more factors involved in determining compatibility. This research is vital for the future reference as the medical needs of the mutant population becomes an issue.

“The third experiment is on a more hopeful note. Let me start with a personal example. My skin seems to secrete a substance that causes intense euphoria in women. One possible medical use may be to treat chronic pain in women. Now this is a singular example, but I suspect that due to the changes in our internal chemistry, each mutant has many new and exiting compounds that may be of use to medical science. I propose that cell samples be collected and categorized by the mutant’s powers. Thus we may be able to find substances related to those powers in treating the sick and injured. The mutant known as inferno for example may have fire retarding compounds, as well as compounds that may be used to treat burn victims. This is of course pure supposition, but the medical possibilities are endless.”

“And finally I come to a slightly selfish request. I admit that this last request is mostly for my own benefit, but it is one that I nevertheless feel is a great value to the medical community, as well as humanity at large. I would first ask that you hold in your confidence what I am about to tell you. This sexy godly form is not my only form. Indeed I have a mundane form which overcomes me in times of sleep, exhaustion, and boredom. This other form is inhabited by a most repulsive personality, which would make the men and women of this world recoil in disgust. It is the anal polyp of humanity, a form so repulsive that so see it is to know true horror. Besides these mental triggers I do not know what causes this abhorrent form to manifest. All I know is that I must be rid of it. I would gladly volunteer cell samples to help diagnose this disorder, and to finally be rid of that pustuled boil of a man. Now, there are other possible medical benefits of solving the dilemma of this disorder. Firstly this may give insight into mutants that have difficulty controlling their powers. They may have a similar dilemma as myself, and as a consequence have problems accessing their powers. Secondly finding a means of suppressing this walking infected ingrown-toenail, meaning my alter-ego, may serve as a means of suppressing similar negative effects that other mutants may have. Some mutants’ powers are triggered on contact, which may cause unintentional adverse affects. Researching and solving my predicament may be the means to solving many mutant power related issues.”

“Now I would have you know that I am not only ready, but willing to expend a great portion of my time and energy in the research projects mentioned above. Just so you know, much of these ideas I have presented here were fleshed out with the help of my assistant, Angie. While I am no scientist, and I am surely not as knowledgeable as many of your medical staff, I am sure that my powers can be of great assistance in finding the answers to the questions I have posed. If possible I will make monetary contributions from my upcoming business toward funding these research projects. My charisma and sexiness can be used to help gather volunteers as well as grants. Just let me know how I may assist, and I will gladly follow.”

Summary: Use Amazing Diplomacy to request the following:
1) Research Reproduction compatibility.
2) Research Immune response and donor compatibility.
3) Research special mutant secretions for possible medical applications.
4) Find the cause and get rid of Fauntleroy (his alter ego).

Use Power: Amazing Diplomacy 2PP
If diplomacy check is needed: [roll0](Amazing Diplomacy & Super Style)

[geez3r]

I appologize for missing both Legion and Draven in my last post.

Legion
{wow, totally wasn't expecting that, and neither were the guards}

Your utterly suicidal manuever somehow actually works in your favor. You dash past the 3 guards who've taken refuge in the office, none of them manage to get a shot off as you wiz past. You barrell down to the Deposit room and point your gun at the guy grappling your other clone and shout your death threat. The guard obviously thinks you're an idiot, but you're an idiot with a big honkin' gun, where as he and the other guard in the security room never bothered to regain their firearms {Do'h}. The 2 guards present in the Deposit area release the Dupe and give up without a fuss, their hands raised in surrender.

Draven/ Jason/ Jen

As you and Jason try to sort things out, a few other nurses and doctors come out of the hospital. Their immediate concern is obviously Jen (which you gather is her name as everyone is calling her that) but they don't want to get too close to hurt for fear of injury. Then another famous figure of the hospital emerges as a neon orange cheetah bolting arcoss the courtyard. Erica shifts back to her normal form (which resembles a dryad) and embraces Jen, trying to comfort her.

It was obviously a good idea for a normal person to touch Jen in these circumstances, judging by how violently Erica is now suddering along with Jen, but Erica's tougher skin is apparently protecting her, at least a little. After a moment, Jen visibly calms down, but is still very much freaked out.

Attention then turns to the two of you, but no one is entirely too sure what to do or say.

{To Draven: Erica reads as Moderate in cheetah form, but Minor in normal form. Jen reads as Major, barely, until she calms down at which point she reads as Moderate.}

Reaper/Nos/Pulse

In response to Reaper, the Mayor says "Basically, you won't be working for us every day during that time, but during that period you'll basically be "on call" so to speak. Essentially, every now and then we have the right to call in a favor that needs your unique talents. We won't ask you to kill of course, and if you perform admirably for us, we'll reduce your 'sentence'."

The Lt. General* then adds "A sample favor we would ask would be to gather intel on a local gang's activities. Or maybe aid in stopping a crime in progress. Potentially helping us neutrolize a renegade mutate. Though if you feel like picking up litter, no one would stop you from doing so in your free time."

*{whose name I should really try to remember}

Murky

The big guy has left the trap door, and is roughly in the middle of the room, which is at most 15' from any wall, facing away from the trap door. As you peer into the trap door, you see 3 other thugs, notably much smaller in build than the other one. There is also good news and bad news. Good news: you have found proof of gun-trafficing occuring at the Pawn shop, Bad news: you have found proof of gun-trafficing occuring at the Pawn shop. That loud bang you heard earlier was them apparently moving some crates around; crates that are filled to the brim with guns. There are currently 2 open crates, 1 held the cannon the big guy has (there are no more in the crate) and the other holds shot guns (and ammo), which the thugs have in their hands.

Kid Zeus/ Riff

"Well, he's only my biological father, he left my mom when he found out she was pregnant. He didn't even recognize me, and I'm my street cloths, *mutters a few insults*. I just might show at that little meeting of yours, but I'm a little more interested in seeing Krypton." he ads with a smirk, before continuing on saying "Call me Riff, and see you around Zeus." A few power cords later and he's airborne.

{And because you're all interested in theme songs at the moment, here's the song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qG74eVb6V10) Riff was playing for the crowd, minus the drums of course, he's not that good... yet.}

Gust

Rainport temporarily became home to its very own hurricane
{You're not kidding, you can make winds up to 150mph, that's nearly a category 5 hurricane!}

The sports car (which you can now tell is a Lamborghini) comes barrelling at you, but when your wind hits it, the effect is dramatic. The side mirrors are taken off almost instantly, and the car comes to a halt about 10ft from you, even though the wheels are still spinning furiously. The stop came so abbruptly, that even the air bags deployed.

As the police come to a stop behind the car, you notice the sports car starts to slide backwards a bit; whoever was behind the wheel has let off the gas for one reason or another.

The Man

After your "little" speech, Dr. Wilson responds "You will endeavor to be brief huh? For my sake, don't try to be verbose." with a bit of a smirk.

"Now to answer you, I shall go point by point. Your concern over the, for lack of a better term, "interbreeding" between mutates and humans, or even mutates and mutates is justified. We have gathered a significant amount of data in this regard, albeit unintentionally, when we were collecting data to ascertain if any methods of treatment were available. A few of our patients have either lost their reproductive organs or they have undergone such a radical transformation that they can no longer concieve and/or give birth to a child, human mutate or otherwise. However, our initial observations allow us to hypothesize that such inter-relations are in fact possible by those that still possess the means. The mutagen left the "human base" intact and added their mutate properties onto the human base. The process by which gamate production takes places and the relative structure of the mutate "addition", lead me to believe that specific abilities will not be hereditary, but there is roughly a 40% chance of inheriting and expressing abilities of some kind, and roughly a 20% chance of effectively being a carrier of mutate abilities. Furthermore, I hypothesize that mutate abilities will most likely lie dormant in new borns for several year at the earliest. My initial hypothesis is that the mutate population is effectively a sub species of homo sapien. On the other hand, everything I've been taught in my 40+ years in the medical field has informed me that mutations such as these simply cannot be, and yet here we are."

"The matter of organ donation is... complex, to say the least. Some of my patients are exhibiting unknown bloodtypes, and others no longer truly have blood circulating through their viens. My initial belief is that in most cases, a mutate will be able to recieve a human organ, of the appropriate blood type, but the odds of a rejection increase by a staggering amount if attempted in reverse. I would only recommend a mutate donor for a human in the absolute most dire of circumstances; there are simply too many variables to account for."

"We have already started on your third proposition. Progress is understandably slow, and many patients outright refuse, as is their right. It's also an ethical issue; do we really want to "harvest" these people? And if we do, where do we draw the line? Furthermore, some of our findings are counter intuitive. With the Inferno gentleman for example, his skin essentially allows for permanent combustion, he is literally being burnt alive. It's not his powers that cause him to be on fire, he burns whether he wants to or not."

"Now for your final request, I cannot help you, or rather, I will not help you. I am a man of science, I do not play God. I will not kill the Hyde to save the Jekyll. I shall not reveal your secret, I am a man of my word, and on my word, I shall not rid you of your alter-ego. The ends do not justify the means, ever."

"Now, I of course will accept any assistance you have to offer. I am not proud enough to ignore the fact that we all need help in this time, however at the current time, we have no immediate need for your abilities or resources. But should you feel the need to contribute in the future, we will alert you to any situations that could use your assistance."

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason remained fixated on his hands for a moment. What happened? Moments later he felt Draven walk toward him, and remained still as the other man spoke. As Jason began to concentrate on everything around him, he felt it; the familar aura around the newcomer.

He's one of them, one of the weird ones.

Jason looked over at Jen again, watching her shake and move inhumanly. He turned toward Draven finally, his eyes searching for emotion, other witnesses, and inside the hospital itself to see who was going to react to the screams.

Jason took deep breath and ended it in a sigh. "I'm... I-..." he says. "Sorry." He then took off down the street, running as fast as he could, just trying to outrun what happened, trying to run from himself.

[harmonictempest]

Gust

Gust doesn't quite smile, but there is a glint in his eye as he moves around to the side of the car, still keeping it immobilized as best he can. When he is facing the driver's side door, still about 15 feet away, he gestures the cops over.

Spot check to see who's inside the car and what condition they're in:
[roll0]

((Edit: Wow...I'd kinda hoped to save my nat 20 for actual combat, but that works too.))

[PlasticSoldier]

[Well when you don't have much time for vengeance, you sometimes have to] [settle with giving someone a life-threatening & crippling wound @ pointblank]

Orig. says "Thanks" to the guards as he reloads his gun. Then says "Drill, get your namesake, their guns, whatever money's nearby, and wait here." to Drill who starts to do so. "I'm going to go make our escape easier." Orig. then walks into the security room and says to guy there "If you say anything over the intercom while I'm leaving, I'll find your name in this morning's newspaper article and have a sniper waiting at Police HQ just for you. Got it?"

[roll0]
By the way I've standardised my speaking colors, Orig. has DarkOliveGreen, #1 has the one to the right of it in the color thing, #2's is 2 to the right, #3 is 3 right, etc.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper nods. "So be it. Am I correct in assuming I am free to go?" As he waits for the answer, he melds with the shadows in the small square he is standing in, and almost instantly emerges on the other side of the fence, clearly showing that he was staying of his own free will. He then turns to the colonel, and says, "It just so happens that some of those things were already on my to do list. I'll pick up a cell phone sometime tomorrow and give you the number, in case you need me." He then turns to Nosferatu and Pulse. "Would you be willing to assist in D-Train's forcible retirement? Tomorrow at five, at (insert location here)."

[MountainKing]

The sound of organ music mingled with the sound of applied synthesizer, and in the midst of it all, a young man sat alone in his apartment, eyes closed as his fingers plied the keys of the Yamaha. Gerard had worked hard to earn the instrument, paying a thousand dollars on it in his brief run in college. For two years now, the instrument was the only thing keeping him sane, but now... as of a few days ago, perhaps that sanity had suddenly shattered, annihilated by the emotional whiplash of self discovery. Leather gloves covered his hands, a black and white mask half depicting Thalia, half Melpomene covering his entire face, hugging firmly to his skin by means of both the mask's nature and the leather strap that held it in place. A tight black t-shirt exulted over his newly defined musculature, black Levi's and leather boots flexing as his foot tapped in time to the music. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, and Gerard Laarson had not slept... had not needed to sleep in over three days.

It was a peculiar thing, he knew, but at the moment, he did not care. He did not hunger, nor thirst, but was not perturbed. He had put in for his two weeks worth of paid time off that he had saved up over the last several years, having been in the employ of a local retailer since his college life had begun. A new era had begun, however, and the music began creeping to a crescendo, and suddenly the CD player cried out in time with Gerard as he stopped playing; this song had more instruments in it than just a keyboard, after all.

"Miiiiiiiister Crowley... What went on in your head?" The organ began to play once more, slowly weeping out of the Yamaha under the skillful touch of Gerard. He had this skill, and now he had power... limitless it was not, but compared to the powerlessness of his former life, Gerard felt he could shake the foundations of the world.

"Ooooh, Mr. Crowley, did you talk to the dead?" Yes, he felt he had. Gerard had wept his bitter tears many times over, begging forgiveness from his best friend, now long deceased. As the song continued, Gerard felt himself slowly giving way to the music, further and further... until a pounding began at the door.

"Come on Laarson, knock that crap off, will ya?! I'm watchin' The Price is Wrong in here, and I'd like to hear it!"

Gerard... no. Muse stopped playing, cracking his knuckles as he stood, then turned off the CD player. A few steps was all it took to reach the door, and he opened it slowly, revealing his masked face to the overweight, balding man in a greasy shirt and sweat pants standing before him. The landlord.

"Mr. Rex Turner, please, come in. I've been expecting you." Muse murmured, his mouth twisted into a smile, though his landlord would never know it. He took a step back, gesturing into the apartment and opening the door, physically bidding the man come inside. It did not even register as a concern to Muse that his landlord appeared physically uncomfortable upon laying eyes on his tenant... perhaps a mixture of Muse's mask and the apparent aura of extreme uneasiness that Muse gave off was unsettling the man, but Mask did not care; rather, it delighted him to see a man who once held such power over him quaking before him.

"Uh, I... look, Laarson, I've gotta go... The Price Is Wrong is on and-" Muse held up a hand, cutting the fat man off.

"I will not ask again, Mr. Turner. We have a matter that we need to discuss; a pressing one, and one that I am certain will be rather... important, to you as well." Nodding slowly, the landlord stepped quickly inside, and Muse shut the door, motioning him to a couch, set facing away from the door. Muse himself, however, remained standing even as the lock softly clicked shut.

"So, uh... what's this about?"

"It is simple, Mr. Turner; I do not wish to deal with the aggravating expense of paying you rent, any longer." Anger welled up in Turner's face, giving the man strength to look into the dark holes of the mask.

"Tough crap, big guy! Your lease ain't up for another six months! You movin' out ain't gonna get you out of owin' me money, and if you try anything, I'll put your ass in jail! I'll-" Again, Muse raised a hand, unmoved by his blustering landlord's jockeying.

"Enough. You clearly do not understand my position, nor the peril of your own." His right hand shaped as if he were holding an invisible conductor's baton, Muse raised his left hand, palm upward, to chest level. As the hand rose, the anger, and subsequently, the color in Turner's face fell. The overweight man began to convulse, pudgy hands slapping to his limbs and clutching at an incredible pain that seemed to spring from every nerve in his body.

"Sing for me, Mr. Turner," Muse stated humorlessly as his hands dropped to his sides. With a great heaving effort, Turner rose from the couch and staggered to the door, eyes rolling like some crazed animal.

"I-I'm callin' t-the cops, Laarson! Your ass is goin' down! I-" the man paused, his mind apparently unable to understand why the door wasn't opening, though he could distinctly understand the mental image of his tenant now standing before him, mere feet away, a long bladed dagger in hand.

"Don't you see? No? Perhaps you don't," Muse said, sick, sarcastic humor dripping from his words, even as suddenly he, and the rest of the apartment, vanished from Turner's vision. The only sound he could make was a strangled, half sob, half gasp as a strong hand gripped him by the throat, flinging him through his unseen world and causing him to stumble and fall. Crawling, Rex Turner unwittingly went in the very direction his antagonist wished him to, tears and mucus wet on his face as terror fueled the fires of his primal urge to flee.

With a thud, he bumped into the bathtub, and with shaking hands, he used the familiar seeming surface to stagger to a standing position. Suddenly, his vision crashed back into clarity, the inky blackness of before vanishing from his sight. Before him stood Muse, dagger in hand.

"L-look, L-Laarson, don't do this... I gotta... you gotta g-get me to the h-hospital... I think I'm dyin' or somethin'! Come on, you can have the apartment, okay?! H-Have some pity!" Turner cried as he stepped backwards, though the bathtub stood steadfast, and his overweight body went crashing into the tub's embrace. Pinpoints of brilliantly colored light flashed before his eyes, his vision swimming as only Muse's voice pierced the murk of the stunning blow he had dealt to his own head.

"No, Mr. Turner. It's too late for prayers and useless pity!" There was a sudden, burning pain in Rex Turner's chest, as the long dagger plunged downward, into his heart, the angle sliding the cold steel between his ribs and avoiding his sternum.

Muse wiped the blade clean; he had some contractor trash bags in the kitchen, and a plundered grocery cart from work stashed outside. Idly, he reached to a vase atop his Yamaha, plucking out a single rose, which he placed upon his former landlord's chest.

"Good night, sweet prince."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferau stiffles a mix between a sigh and a laugh as Reaper slips from his 'prison'. On one hand, it was like he was demonstrated that he was never really turning himself in as he could leave at any point. On the other, it was funny to see the initial setup falter so quickly. Then again, a dozen armed guards is enough of a contingency in most cases, not to mention the superhero backup.

"Well, I guess that means our work here is done. And yeah, shutting down some local gang sounds like a good idea. We should be careful though, maybe its different for you, but I am not entirely sure how far these powers extend. I would hate to end up like the fictional Bulletproof Man. Incidently, he was killed with a crossbow bolt.

But as for now, I guess we better split. I will probably be heading back into the city. How about you guys? Oh, one sec"

Nosferatu quickly walks to the portable TV, folds it up, and returns it to the barrel, writing a THX in the dust beside it.
Returning to the group, Nosferatu hands out a few more small pieces of paper with his number written on it, in case the army or mayor should need to contact him.

If at any point Inferno and Titan are left alone with us:
"Hey, great job helping out army get set up. You might have heard about the fire in the city. A bunch of mutates jumped to help people from the blaze, Reaper, Pulse and myself included. Anyway, I was able to get hold of a microphone at called the mutates together, and we organised to have a meeting tomorrow at noon in the abandoned quarry [additional directions if neccesary]. We might be forming some kind of group, so we can work better to help people. Feel free to come alone if interested, and tell any other well meaning mutates you know, if any."

Nosferatu looks back towards the uniformed figures.

"Keep it mutates only though. If anything comes of the meeting, we will tell the officials. But until then we want to keep it amoung people who are in our somewhat unique situation. Hope to see you there"

If there is nothing else to be said by anyone around (may be changed, but putting it here for faster moving):
"I am heading back to the city then. You know how to reach me if you need me. I will keep a keen eye out for trouble until then"

Nosferatu lifts up, and starts to fly back towards the city, flying alongside Pulse if he is heading back as well.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper says, "As for me, I believe I will look up this Dark fellow. I much desire to speak with him, although I am not yet sure why. Only time will tell."

(edited due to later post)

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

*Tries to stop Reaper*

OOC: Assuming talk away from NPCs

"Hey Reaper. If you are looking for Dark, I can probably get in contact with him for you. Normally I would not give out someones number, but he did appear on TV, so few secrets there...

Waaaait a second. Did you say "I much desire to speak with him"?! Haha, you may not remember much of your past, but you remember Lord of the Rings quotes. Man, I hope you weren't a nerd or the anti videogame nuts will have a field day with this one."

Nosferatu ends the sentence in a joking tone, then gets back onto topic.

"Tell you what, I can text him then we can ring him on my mobile. You can either get your query sorted over the phone, or arrange a time to meet with him. He's pretty cool, and a bit strange. I have no doubt that he would want to meet with you for one reason or another.

Or, if you want to be patient, he should be at the meeting tomorrow. You could meet him there."

As long as Reaper does not speak against it (and is still here), Nosferatu pulls out a mobile phone (black, of course) and starts a message:
Hi Dark. I am standing beside the reforming Reaper, and he "much desires to speak with you". I said you would probably be interested and could get in contact. Can you talk now, or shall we see you tomorrow?

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper pauses, turning to Nosferatu. "I'm afraid that such speech patterns simply come naturally to me. Such coincidences are likely to happen from time to time. Back to Dark, I would prefer to speak to him tonight, before the general meeting. In person, if possible. I just have a feeling, and my feelings tend to keep me alive. Relay my desire for a face to face meeting, preferably after nightfall, if you would be so kind."

[Nelphine]

Murky

Murky slips through the shadows into the room underneath the trap door. He walks over to the crates, and takes a look into the smaller one, holding shotguns.

'This is just like the movies; bad guys, lairs, guns. A bigger bad guy with a bigger gun at the end. Just need a girl and some kind of treasure and this'll be right out of a western.'

Murky suddenly has a flash of a movie seen long ago - he sits at his father's feet, watching, awe in his eyes as the hero gallops into certain death to save the town. This was what it meant to be on the side of good! This was what it meant to be a grown up! The long-ago Michael resolved then and there that he would learn to ride horses and would be able to shoot beer bottles from 100' away.

Michael then went to high school, was bullied by his elders, and bullied younger boys in turn. He forgot about that long ago movie, the purpose of that man and his horse. He forgot his dreams, found reality too bleek for them; he barely passed high school, and moved to the big city. The city was his barely felt attempt at reviving a dream. The move became his last step toward a rut in a dead end job. He picked up mechanics in order to tell people he had a hobby, a passion; and he did love mechanics, but he had no talent for it.

The explosion made his life physically grey. His choices before the explosion made his life emotionally grey.

These three punks would be his first real step into finding a new role in life. Murky stands next to the crates, unaware of the tactical benefit of being behind them. Similarly he didn't notice that it made no logical sense for him to plan to tap the first punk on the shouler. Something told him that was how to deal with these punks, and that was good enough.

Murky melts out of the shadows and taps the nearest punk on the shoulder, his black arm unravelling from his clothing and stretching across the inhuman distance.

Touch attack against a hopefully flat-footed opponent, and hopefully from an unexpected (possibly even rear!) direction. [roll0] Damage [roll1] 7 PP spent. Assuming the thug drops, Murky picks up his shotgun and transfers it to his normal arms. If the thug doesn't drop Murky either grabs a remaining shotgun from the small crate if there is one, or readies the large revolver taken from the store clerk.
And one assumes initiative is required [roll2]
Incidentally, are there any other obvious exits from this little trap door room?

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

I think Dark would probably receive the text message while in the car back from the studio. So this would be before he spoke to Crow and Alex.

The professor feels his phone buzz and reads the message. Lights pass over his face as the car drives through the growing gloom of the evening, heading back towards the Randolph Institute of Technology.

He replies: Mine is the only house on campus. Come LATE.

The last thing he needed was to be associated with a known murderer. But Dark trusted to the instincts of the young vampire - all things considered he had been a most useful contact - and Dark had always believed in allowing talent freedom to find its own niche.

But what on earth was he going to do with Reaper? Reformed characters were always so holier-than-thou; he would have to play this straight down the line.

And then there was the other issue. Do you cater for a late night meeting of the empowered? He didn't have anything in. Should he stop now and get chips and beer?

He'd seen films in which the President held late meetings and told people his chef could make anything they wanted. They never asked for anything, though. But who wanted steak at 1am? That's how you ended up with colon cancer. And of course when you visited a master criminal, they always offered you funny tea.

Dark had a lot of tea stored up, just in case people expected it, but he was now worried it was a tell. Would he one day be led away in titanium cuffs by Sergeant O'Mally saying, "To be sure, it was the tea that gave you away. Only the evil drink Lap-Sang-Soo-Shong, boy-o".

Then the Irish bastard would whistle and twirl his truncheon. And Dark would be top dog in the weirdest prison in the first world. Like Oz, but with elements of Oz.

"Stop!" Dark commanded the driver - who leapt six inches out of his seat - and the car skidded to a halt outside a corner store of the variety that was robbed every six hours.

"I have to get chips and beer. Wait here".

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

Reading the answer over Nosferatu's shoulder, the Reaper said, "Tell him I will come around 1 A.M. And tell him to leave the lights off, if he doesn't mind. Less suspicious for him and more comfortable for me."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu swats his hand at Reaper, slightly annoyed at him reading over his shoulder.

"Oi! What are you, twelve? In fact, thats a very good question... What age are you, I wonder? Anyway, yeah, I will text him"

With a furious clicking of keys, Nosferatu sends a reply to Dark:
Yeah, Reaper says he can be there at about 1am. He asks you leaves the lights off if you don't mind. Good luck, and Don't Fear The Reaper!

There is a soft chuckle from Nosferatu at that, and he notices Reaper saw the text sent.

"Looks like you might have a theme song. In retrospect, we should have had that playing when you made your plea to the Mayor!"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper would have smirked, except he didn't have a mouth. He said, "Oh yes, very witty. Remind me to pick up a wooden stake and some garlic when I goo to the dollar store."

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu shakes his head, chuckling at the remark.

"While we are there we can grab some UV lights and a bucket of white paint. Maybe if we dump it over you people in the street wont be fleeing from you when you try to save them. Or a little sign that says "Not Evil"."

Nosferatu holds his hands in front of Reaper in a box shape, trying to work out the best place to attach the potential "Not Evil" sign.

[dfpiii]

((I think Alex and Dark are pretty much done for the evening - so feel free to turn up whenever. I have no idea when everybody else is)).

[MountainKing]

Muse was not finished with his gruesome deed; that would be far too simple. The last part of the afternoon still had some things to do; first off, a brief trip to the kitchen for a shaker of salt. Returning to his victim, he unscrewed the cap of the shaker, pour salt over the stab wound, pushing it into Rex Turner's flesh callously, packing the home-remedy coagulant tightly. Less of a mess, for certain. After this brief affair, he paused only to rinse the blood off of his fingertips and spray air freshener into the air... heavily.

That done, Muse unlocked his door and peeked into the hallway; nobody was present. He had the fortune, he supposed, of living in the apartment next to the landlord, and in a structure of low income housing where arguments with Turner were frequent, and the tenants were frequently not home during the day.

Striding the few paces to his former landlord's door, he found it still ajar; his foolish landlord had thought he would never leave the hallway, perhaps. Stepping into the room, he shut the door softly and promptly hunted for one thing, and one thing only: the master ring of keys for the complex... he found it in short order, in a tray filled with a disarray of loose change, crumpled tissues, and candy wrappers. Jangling the keys softly, Muse smiled behind his mask, and returned to his apartment, again peeking into the hall to ensure he would be unseen. Almost jauntily, he tossed the key ring over to the chair where his coat was hung...

----------

That evening, Muse had only one task remaining for himself: removing Rex Turner from his bathroom. Humorlessly, Gerard tore a cotton ball in half and packed his nostrils tightly, the mask sitting on his bed. The long bladed dagger's sheathe was strapped tightly to his left forearm, the pommel snug against his wrist. He had already retrieved the cart, and the four gallon can of gasoline for the lawnmower and snowblower from the shed behind the complex. Donning his coat, a black leather reverend's coat, he buttoned the closures with satisfaction swelling in his chest; his musculature had changed so drastically that the coat, while before a little tight, now fit snugly, but comfortably. Donning the mask once more, Muse topped everything off with a wide brimmed black leather hat, treated with waterproofing and his favorite piece of attire.

No... his second favorite piece of attire.

Groaning with effort, he hauled the rigid bulk of Rex Turner out of the bathtub, having triple bagged his former landlord with the contractor bags earlier and tied tightly; it would take some time before anyone noticed that the dumpster Turner was destined for was reeking of something truly unpleasant... and with any luck, that wouldn't happen, given that trash pickup for his destination occurred three days a week. With a great deal of effort, Muse managed the bundle into the shopping cart, having already opened the sliding glass door that opened to the back of the complex. Across the vacant lot, and across a parking lot, was the dumpster for an older mom'n pop restaurant's; Edna's, or some such. Both lots were cast in darkness; it would be the work of a few minutes.

A concerned meow pierced the silence of the apartment; Muse paused, turning to consider his cat.

"Do not worry, Orpheus. Daddy will return in a few minutes." Heaving against the shopping cart, Muse began his quiet trundling, gasoline can beneath the basket of the cart. Almost a hundred yards away, cars passed in the night, unconcerned and unaware of the macabre shopping trip underway. Some minutes later, Muse leaned against the dumpster, gasping from the effort of heaving the five foot two inch, two hundred and eighty pound landlord into the yawning maw of the garbage receptacle. Grunting, he heaved the four gallon gasoline can upright, dumping its contents into the dumpster along with the former landlord and God only knew what else; if the trash pickup didn't get to the body, surely the mixture of gasoline and who knew what else would take care of things in a somewhat less discretionary manner. Tossing the can into the cart, he made an equally stealthy return to the complex, returning the can to the shed, then the cart to his place of employment.

Upon his final return an hour of walking later, Muse sighed heavily, having locked his doors and windows, and drawn the shades. Collapsing to his couch, he smiled as Orpheus leapt onto the furniture with him, having recognized that with his gloves on, Muse's touch could not harm him. After taking a break, Muse stood, removing his mask and gloves, and changing his clothes to something he didn't care about getting bleach on.

It was late in the evening, but he had no need of sleep... and so, Gerard Laarson was going to clean his bathroom.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion
Near St. Paul’s Hospital

Watching the young guy run off down the street after making his lame apology, he looked back towards the nurse on the lawn, torn for a moment in indecision.

I came here to research the condition, and hopefully gain some level of insight into my own powers, but this is not what I expected.
…As it is though, this guy seems to be an ideal candidate in more ways than I could have hoped. Hopefully, he’ll be cooperative.

“Hey, just wait a minute man!” Draven shouted after the quickly retreating figure.

Being aware of his increased agility, he did his best to appear to run like a natural human, allowing himself to not fully close the distance with the young man, although he was certain that he was capable of overtaking him with ease.

“Wait up, I just want to talk!”

He seems so confused and uncertain, I’m sure I’ll be able to gain a lot of insight. The challenge will be to calm him down enough to get him to open up.

Draven continued to follow him down the street, sticking to the sidewalk and out of traffic.

I can’t afford to lose him, he’s simply too potentially valuable…and volatile if pushed too far. There’s really no telling what he might do…or what he’s capable of. I may have to use my abilities to catch up to him and possibly subdue him if necessary, but hopefully it won’t come to that.

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

Pulse listens to the mayor's decision and Reaper's reply before nodding as if privately agreeing with the whole matter. As the meeting breaks up he nods to the mayor, "My pleasure to meet you, your honor. You do honor to your role in this time of difficulty." He turns and tips his hat to the general. "Lt. General Kerrigan, good to see the Pentagon made the same choice as I would have for the man to take charge of the National Guard during the crisis. It actually brings positive meaning to the term Military Intelligence." He pauses as Reaper makes his request and Nosferatu replies, "Things are a little too unsettled at the moment, I think, to try taking out the gangs. I agree that we might want to tackle that at some time, but keeping track of the day-to-day disturbances might be better for now. The gangs, though illegal, do regulate some areas of the city. Weakening or taking out one will only cause the other two to start jockeying for position to take over their territory, which will cause more disruption... not less."

Pulse will then [unless someone pulls him aside for a moment to discuss something (which will take place in a different post) or immediately after; pull out his sonic screwdriver and point the beeping/flashing device at his briefcase which will unfold into his glider, and then he'll climb aboard. He will nod to Nosferatu, "See you tomorrow." And to Corporal Green, "Thank you for the ride, Corporal." Rising slowly into the air as his engine begins thrumming to full activity, he will fly away, taking an evasive course back to his home.

Arriving at home he will remove his costume and makeup, and prepare a large dinner as he turns up the thermostat for optimum working conditions. After several hours he will repair his computer, install new drives, prepare the old disk with the recovered drive, and carry it all down to the basement before returning to the den and activating it remotely. Harold activates the bluetooth screen and begins typing away on his keyboard. He notices that the input from his keyboard seems a little slow at first, the bluetooth signal lagging perhaps? Although he hadn't thought his magnetic signature would affect that. The problem steadies out though with a little time and he smiles to himself as he realizes he's suffered no major data loss from the recovered drive. He just needs to stay away from the main drive while it is in operation, and with the remote screen and keyboard, that should be no problem. He turns off the screen and moves to turn off the keyboard... and pauses, looking very startled at the keyboard in his lap which he's been using for the past hour. It's been off for the entire time!

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu breaks for a second in his banter with Reaper as he hears "See you tomorrow", and looks around to see Pulse already flying off into the distance, the plume of heavy smoke already dispersing in the wind.

"Dang, he left already? Oh well."

With a brief few seconds of concentration, Nosferatu recalls what Pulse had been saying in the background.

"Hmm.. he mentioned that bringing one gang down might cause more disruption. But with so much change going one in the environment at the moment mixed with the possibility that gang members might be super powered now, the gangs are likely already going turf crazy. By making a public display of stomping one down, we might get them to back off to the rocks they crawled out of.

What do you think Reap? It sounded like you were ready to start beating up some bad guys from the out-set. That still the case?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper nods to Pulse as he flies off, then says, "Whatever occurs, there will be shifts in the balance of power. If we strike now and decisively destroy D-Train's gang, we can send the others the message that we will not abide by their presence. And with me in the assault, and some proper planning, we can put the fear of justice in them."

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

Jason continued running, doing his best to dart through people and any other obstacle. His eyes darted the horizon frantically, trying to see through to somewhere he could hide, escape to. He could already feel the burn in his lungs, and the weakness of his muscles. Before he found anything, though, Jason 'felt' the guy behind him almost easily catching up.

He jumped into the nearest alley and turned, hands up defensively. He could again see his dad, yelling at him to do better and fight stronger. He felt the surge of anger rise up as he changed to one of the defensive positions he'd been raised on. I won't go down, I won't be the weaker one. I won't let just another freak beat me...

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

"I think we are agreed on that then. I will meet up with you in the evening, but will hopefully see you at the meeting before hand. I will try to make accomodations for you since we are in the middle of a pretty well lit area. How far can you 'shadow jump'?"

Nosferatu waits for an answer, already pondering how to sort this out. After Reaper replies, Nosferatu speaks again.

"Ah. Well, I best be off then. Try and lay low until the Mayor's decision is more public, if ever."

After another pause in case someone needed to speak, Nosferatu jumps into the air, and flies from the hanger.

***

Nosferatu glided through the air back towards the city. The sensation of flight still thrilled him, and he tried to guage the speed he was moving at. It seemed that the truck carried them faster on the straight lines. Still, being able to take straight line routes between A and B would give him an advantage over anyone based on the ground in the city. He would just need to think it out to catch any high speed foes.

Eventually Nosferatu reached the suburb outskirts of the city, where the houses each had a neat piece of front yard before the road. The gardens were well tended, and despite the highly organised nature of the local plant life, Nosferatu felt a little better being amongst them than in the 'concrete jungle' of the main city. In fact, it almost felt- GGGRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHH...GRAH GRAH, GRRRRAAHHHHHH. The loud mechanical noises jolted Nosferatu from his train of thought, and he scanned the area for the source. A few houses down, a man was wielding a large chainsaw, and taking large chunks out of a tree in his yard. With each stroke, Nosferatu could see the many teeth of the blade bite and rend through bark and wood, sending a spray of shattered chips into the air. At the corners the tree leaked sap like blood seeping from a mortal wound in slow motion. The tree shuddered with every strike, as if shaking with pain.

With a flare of illogical anger, Nosferatu swooped down, landing near the man before walking closer. The unnamed figure continued tearing the flesh of the tree until he was tapped on the shoulder. He looked around, his sap and wood chip covered overalls in stark contrast to the dark clothes of the figure beside him. The man stepped back, his eyes fixated onto the twisted face, with furrowed sloping brow casting a small shadow over the dark green eyes, that seemed to be filled with a cold fury. His hand relaxing on the handle, the motor stopped.

Nosferatu stared at the man, wearing what could almost be a butchers apron. Breaking eye contact, Nosferatu stepped to the tree, and looked it over. The chainsaw had cut several terrible wounds into the bark, and the pulpy wood flesh beneath. Deep inside, Nosferatu knew this tree would not survive.

The man stepped back as the dark figure drew his sword from the back scabbard, and slashed once through the tree trunk. The tree held for a second, before sliding apart at the neat cut. The figure caught onto a sturdy limb, and lowered it gently to the ground without it landing on the nearby car or fence. With a final look at the overalled man, the figure hoveed off the ground, and flew into the sky.

Nosferatu shook his head, the simmering anger that held him moments ago already filtering out of his body. With a mildly confused sigh, forced out of necessity, Nosferatu wiped the blade clean and slid it back into his scabbard and flew back towards the centre of the city, eyes once again looking out for trouble.

"What was that all about?"

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Draven/Oblivion
Business District
Mid-Afternoon

((For Gnome4ever))
I'm making a couple of assumptions here: 1. You don't have any powers feats or skills that allow you to run and hide at the same time. 2. He pretty much matches the "skinny highschool kid" stereo type appearance.

If either or these assumptions are incorrect, let me know. Otherwise, I'll assume you're going to include any character sheet related actions in spoiler boxes with rolls included.

This should be fun. :smallbiggrin:

That little punk! He's acting like he's some kind of fugitive, and all I want to do is have a conversation with him! Now I know how the paparazi feel like...except without the excessive picture taking and the printing of the inevitable smear article of course.

"What's your problem kid? I'm on your side, I'm just trying to figure things out the same as you. We might even be able to help each other, if you'll just hold up a minute!" He said, calling it out loud enough to be heard clearly across the distance between them and over the background noise of the city, but trying to sound calm and reasonable all the same. He hoped absently that he was using common enough language that the younger guy could relate.

If he hadn't made that lame appology, I'd think this kid was deaf. For all I know though, he's lost it and managed to escape before the hospital could evaluate him. I could very well be wasting my time here, and risking early exposure of my powers, not to mention my health. But I have to try...

As he began crossing the street towards him, doing his best to keep an eye out for him among the crowd, he spotted the guy as heducked around the corner of the alley.
Pausing as he crossed the street, standing in the median, he considered his options.

What's that saying about chasing a mad dog into a corner? But, if it's not a dead-end, he might end up getting away. If I didn't see the hospital staff basically ignore him, I would have to guess he's really dangerous...but since they didn't bother to take up the chase or shout a warning, I guess I'm willing to take my chances.

Dashing across the street and coming up to the corner of the alleyway, he pressed his back against the bricks and listened around the corner for the tell tale sound of running feet.

((Listen:)) Listen check 1d20+5

((Successful roll:If can hear his heavy breathing around the corner, minus the pitter patter of running feet))

He's trying to ambush me?!? What the hell was this kid's deal?

Staying where he was, and edging up to the corner as close as he dared while keeping his hands up at the ready he ignored the pedestrians that gave him wierd looks as they walked by.
"Hey man, I know you're back there. I'm offering you an opportunity. An opportunity to be normal. Not normal like everyone else, but normal enough that you won't have to worry about not getting treated with the equality you deserve.
I'm talking about freedom. It's not going to happen overnight though, and I could really use your help, but if you head the other direction, I gaurantee this city will swallow you whole.
You'll be beyond my ability to help, but I don't want that and I don't think you do either. So think for a second, chill out, and listen to reason will ya?"

I feel like the RPD talking down a Meth-head. For all I know, this guy is some kind of walking meth lab. Might actually explain what happened to that nurse back there...all I do know is, this is his last chance.

He paused a moment to let the guy consider what he said, and reply if he was willing.

As he stood there waiting, his back against the brick storefront, A cold fury entered him. More cold and deep than he remembered it being in a long time.

The sheer audacity. He's running like the law is after him, and all I'm trying to do is help him! He must be a criminal, or it's only a matter of time before he becomes one...I guess it falls to me to deal with him one way or another.
That nurse was powerful, but he must have caught her off guard, and she didn't strike me as a real fighter. I will be ready for him.

((Power activation))
A familiar but disturbing twisting feeling began under his skin, stretching out from his chest, throughout his entire body. It was cold and inhuman...but somehow comforting as well. He wondered briefly as he pushed himself off of the now warm feeling brick, if he looked any different, but having no way of finding out and full of cold righteous anger, he cared very little.
He paused only long enough to remove his gloves and stuff them into his pocket, barely noticing the writhing veins beneath the skin on the back of his hands.

How ironic that this boy that I am trying to help may be the first subject upon which I test the full extent of my capabilities he thought to himself darkly.

As he strode around the corner, his hands balled into fists, he growled menacingly "This is your last chance. Give up now, or you will regret it". [/SPOILER]

((What Jason would see))


A fairly tall lightly tanned Native American guy in his early 20's wearing a matching set of cargo pants and bomber jacket, both a faded dark grey. He's also wearing a dark navy scarf as well as stylish narrow black wire framed glasses.
The top buttons of his jacket are open revealing a black tank top underneath and rather well developed pecks. You notice that he wears at his neck a black leather choker with a small bag of the same color and material attached to it.

In addition to the above, there are a few other things of note.
His eyes are reflectionless black orbs, and it appears as though all the veins under any and all exposed skin are writing as though alive and standing out in sharp relief. All of these veins also appear as blue black, despite the fact that he does appear to be breathing (I'm assuming your character has a massive spot check)

((Action Summary:))
3ed. round, ran across street, stopped at corner of alley, listened.

Diplomacy check (full round; for what it's worth) [roll0]. Pause 1 round. Remove gloves (move), 5' move diagnally infront of the alley while activating power (swift) avoiding AOO, talk/make threat (free)

((To speed up and potential conflict between us that might occur))
Initiative: [roll1] He will do what he can to make sure if violence breaks out, it happens in the alley, out of sight of the general public

((Edit: Screwed up the listen check (the most important one of course), Geez3r, you can make it for me, otherwise, I'll retry it in a separate post))

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper answers Nosferatu's question, saying, "Several feet, but no farther. Bring an umbrella and I'll be fine. See you then." As Nosferatu flies away, the Reaper melts into the shadows, and vanishes.

He arrives a short while later at his apartment. Seeing that it is already evening, he decides to rest for a while, until his meeting with Dark. His mind races the entire time as he tries to process everything that has happened in the past few days. Eventually giving up on that, he decides to focus on the fact that he is free, and good, and sane, and all of those wonderful words for people that aren't what he used to be. The voices in his head, that once whispered so persuasively, leading him to madness and despair, have lost their teeth; they are all but gone entirely now. The face of the girl stands clearly in his mind, eager for company; more faces of the living to stand against the faces of those dead by his hand. The world would be a better place because of him.

Surprisingly quickly, the appointed hour drew near. The Reaper arose from his rest and set out, staying in the shadows, invisible to all of the normal people living their normal lives. How he envied them the chance to be normal, to be sane, to not live every waking moment in penance for crimes too terrible to even comprehend. But the moment passed, and at last he came to the doorstep of Professor Dark. Emerging from the shadows on his doorstep, he knocked on the door.

[Gnomish Wanderer]

(Thrall_Of_Ao Sees:)
(No he's not hiding and yes he is somewhat stereotypical)
A young man stands in the middle of the alley about 6 feet in. His hands are raised defensively, and he spreads his feet a little apart with obvious training. His dark brown hair barely touches his ears and the tip of his forehead. He's wearing a dark green shirt and blue jeans, and a short-sleeved unbuttoned dress shirt hangs loosely around him, almost flaring out like a cape.
(Thought I'd post that as reference so I'll know which scenario happened.)

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

The television sets, heaters, electric clocks, stereos, and such in the specific section of downtown upon with Kid Zeus was descending went briefly on the fritz as the teenaged super hero used the above-ground power lines to propel himself down the street. As he descended to the street the electric field that was suspending him in midair dissipated, buzzing down from him and grounding in the concrete under his feet. He sighed, scratching at the mask that covered his face. It was becoming uncomfortable after sweating in it all day long and he was looking forward to taking it off. The comics never mentioned how uncomfortable the blasted things were.

He leaned against the wall, ignoring the looks he was getting by any of the people passing him on the street and checked his pockets. Maybe he had enough for a soda?

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

((Repost of Listen Check. For The Win. Drum roll please.))

Listen: [roll0]

((Edit: MAN, I'm good. So, senario #2 it is then. Balls back in your court, what're you going to do?))

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu sailed through the air as he re-entered the city streets, mind still wondering about what had happened earlier. It was still kind of surreal... Why would violence against a plant invoke such a dramatic response. "Oh, yeah". The answer seemed to be staring him in the face. He was changing, and becoming more like a plant himself. He was feeling for... ... "his own kind". Once again, Nosferatu's mind had wandered into considering whether or not he was truly human any more.

Thankfully, his mind had something new to consider as a strange feeling twitched at the edge of his perception. Pausing in his flight, Nosferatu scannded the area around him, but could not see the source of any such disturbance. With a sparkle of inspiration, Nosferatu slowly closes his eyes, and opens the senses that belonged to no normal human. With his skin flushing a deep shade of green, he could "taste" the air around him. There was an oddity that seemed somehow familiar, but it was much too faint to place. After a few seconds were spent locating the "scent" Nosferatu opened his eyes. They fell to rest on the power cables. is brow furrowed in confusion, and he flew closer to examine the lines. They seemed to almost be twiching, tiny sparks of electricty hoping alone the line.

"That can't be good"

Nosferatu drew his sword, and followed the cables along. His mind was fixated on an image he remembered from an old movie he saw as a kid. Small reptillian humanoids had invaded New York, and for some reason one had become a being of pure electricity and travelled through the phonelines. This could very well be another superpowered criminal testing his powers.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, Nosferatu turned a corner to see a figure leap from the cables and glide to the group, electricity flowing around him like hundreds of tiny serpents. With a grin, Nosferatu returned his katana to his scabbard. It was one of the mutates from the meeting earlier that day, Kid Zeus. Dropping to the ground and walking up to him, Nosferatu called out to the familiar figure.

"Hey, Kid Zeus! It was good to see you got the girl to the ground okay. What are you up to now?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

The Kid turned his head sharply at the new arrival, gaping for a moment before finding his voice. It was still a little new for him to see people flying down from midair at him, especially ones that looked like vampires, even though he was doing much of the same. "Uh...h-hey, Nosferatu! How's it going, man? I met another of our kind earlier, some guy who could make the soundwaves from his guitar crush and then reconstruct the hood of a car. I had to talk him out of attacking a cop, then talk the cop out of crushing the guy's skull in with his baton. Everything worked out alright though, and he said he was going to come to the meeting. He's calling himself "Riff". You should have heard his music, dude. The guy could make his guitar do things I've never heard Slash or Hammet play. What about you? Put that homicidal maniac behind bars, yet?"

Obviously, he was referring to the Reaper, who he had more than a single problem with being included in their little team of super friends.

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason

Jason took a step back when he saw the man's strange coloration. He then shook his head and rereadied his defensive position. "What do ya want anyway? You couldn't help me, alright? Back down." He looked over Draven, trying to figure out what he was doing and if he had any other weapons. What to do, what to do. What would be best here?

Freak! he wanted to scream out, but subsided. Jason narrowed his eyes and starting breathing heavily, trying to flair himself up a little bit. "You don't know what you're getting into. Either tell me what you want, or leave."
Summary: Talking, make a knowlege tactics [roll0]roll to see if he can figure out what would be best in the close quarters of the alley, and make an intimidation [roll1] roll at the end.

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

The figure sat in lotus position, but at about three feet above the floor. After several hours in a meditative state he opened his eyes, looking around, blinking. That was a successful experiment. Apparently my ability to sense and manipulate electromagnetic fields allows me to access computers remotely. Smith looks down at the floor below him. I still don't know why my body is generating this intense localized magnetic field, but it does allow me to lift myself without wearing or carrying large amounts of metal, so I guess I won't bitch about it, even if it does cause me problems with computer memory. I also bet I will set off every store alarm or metal detector I pass through though.

[evisiron]

Kid Zeus

The Kid turned his head sharply at the new arrival, gaping for a moment before finding his voice. It was still a little new for him to see people flying down from midair at him, especially ones that looked like vampires, even though he was doing much of the same. "Uh...h-hey, Nosferatu! How's it going, man? I met another of our kind earlier, some guy who could make the soundwaves from his guitar crush and then reconstruct the hood of a car. I had to talk him out of attacking a cop, then talk the cop out of crushing the guy's skull in with his baton. Everything worked out alright though, and he said he was going to come to the meeting. He's calling himself "Riff". You should have heard his music, dude. The guy could make his guitar do things I've never heard Slash or Hammet play. What about you? Put that homicidal maniac behind bars, yet?"

Obviously, he was referring to the Reaper, who he had more than a single problem with being included in their little team of super friends.

Nosferatu

Nosferatu listened to the story about the soundwave guy, a wide 'That Is So Cool' grin hidden under his mask. The only way he could be better if he made his axe into..well.. a fuctioning axe!

However, when the conversation turned to Reaper, Nosferatu inwardly sighed as he remembered Kid Zeus' reaction to the dark figure popping up at the meeting. Threats leading to lighting him up "Like a christmas tree" were involved is the memory was accurate. Of course, at the time Nosferatu had been almost glad that there was another as paranoid about the Reaper as he was! An ally, if things turned nasty. However, Nosferatu had listened to Reaper, heard him out. Kid Zeus seemed to cling to the initial impression.

"We took him to the army base thats been set up outside of town, and he *did* do behind bars."

Nosferatu pauses for a second.

"Electrified bars"

"Anyway, he essentially turned himself in, and awaited judgement by the Mayor. I am not sure I can say too much about what happened inside a military base in the middle of the street, but essentialy Reaper is now 'on the governments leash' as it were. He is seeking redemption for his previous crimes, and it looks like he will be paying for them for most, if not all, his remaining life. This includes working against criminal elements in the city. I think the Mayor has made a good call, and at the end of the day, it looks like it would be much better on the side of good.

By the way, did you tell Riff about the meeting tomorrow?"

[The_Snark]

Judy

Earlier

She was lucky. Flipping through the channels, she was about to turn the TV off when she heard the words "... forgive me if this is the wrong word—a mutant."

That got her attention. The new phenomenon was all over the news, of course, but it paid to know what the news was saying. Even if it was wrong, or exaggerated, it gave hints as to what people were thinking. She knew very few people who accepted everything they saw at face value, but the media nonetheless managed to shape people's views.

She was glad she'd kept it on. The man they were talking to, a professor or scientist of some sort, made it clear that he was (or at least claimed to be, a small part of her clarifies) one of those who'd been in the blast. I wonder. Everyone affected by this must have been in the southern district of the city at the time. I can't picture this fellow walking around the streets near the port.

She watched and listened to the professor's speech with mixed feelings, giving way to incredulity at the end. She switched the TV off—maybe the news anchors would discuss the speech, but she wasn't in the mood to listen.

What is it about this whole business? First the people turning up at the fire to help out, and now this. Why is it that they're suddenly willing to take risks they never were before? I'd wager none of them was thinking of being a fireman before this happened, or a policeman. Suddenly, give them a single gift—flight, strength, whatever—and they're all too willing to throw aside whatever they had been planning to make with their lives in order to do something they had passed over before. Why? Because it's easier to do something else now? Something that's dangerous despite whatever the chemical did to them? That many people helping out is the sort of thing to restore your faith in human nature... if it weren't so foolish.

And Dark. All that talk about fear and an enemy no normal person could possibly touch—what's he trying to pull? What makes him think that only something knew could possibly provide a solution to this problem? Does he know something he isn't saying about that, or has he simply been caught up in whatever fever is surrounding this whole event?

It's like everyone involved believes this has turned into a comic book. Only the efforts of a few individuals can save the world? Sure. In Hollywood. Dark talked about everyone overcoming their own difficulties, but what he ended with was an encouragement to that sort of Hollywood thinking. And they applauded. It's as if the chemical altered everyone's brain...

With a chill, she realized how possible that was. Not even possible—likely. How could something that so drastically altered the human body leave the brain perfectly untouched? At the least, nerves to convey new impulses had to be present. The lunatic at the conference, the hero fever that several individuals had been caught up in... symptoms, maybe. It was a disquieting thought. Had Alex's behavior of late been normal for him? She thought so, but it had been long enough that she might have been wrong.

And her behavior? How was it she could see out of three pairs of eyes, all at the same time? Thinking about it, she felt dizzy for a moment, then firmly repressed the nausea that thought had induced. She did it perfectly when she wasn't thinking about it, but a human shouldn't be able to comprehend that many viewpoints without a hitch. Nor should she be used to working with more than one pair of hands, or managiing three tasks at once, but she was. Very disquieting. She didn't want to think about what else might have changed in her. How could you tell if you were going mad?

With a chill, she shook her head, trying to clear it of that thought. She wasn't going mad. This situation would put stress on anyone. If she kept sitting here on the couch alone, she'd just keep dwelling on it.

Taking her spare set of keys in case she wasn't back from the clerk's office or the lower port before she wanted to come back, Judy locked the door and went out for a walk.

Some time later

She'd been wandering the streets for an hour or two now. Stopping at a bar or restaurant had just given her the time to keep thinking about what might be happening to her, this time without even a familiar setting, and unfortunately, she didn't have anyone she could confide in. Alex was busy, and she hadn't told him that she'd been in the blast yet... without that, she could hardly mention her fears to him. Linda was the only other person she might have told, and she was on duty.

Watching the surreal sight of a figure soaring down onto the street and around a corner was a welcome distraction, and on a whim, she changes direction, heading around the corner. The figure was easy enough to spot, with a black mask covering the lower half of his face and a sword of all things slung across his back. And he had a friend, complete with a jumpsuit and a reverse mask covering the upper half of his face.

Oh, yes. Hero fever.

She leans against a wall for a moment, studying the two of them, then shrugs. Why not, after all? She walks up to the pair of them, who looked... young, actually, what she could see and hear of them from closer. She looks them over with raised eyebrows, clearly evaluating them, then speaks, sounding amused. "Dressed up for somewhere?"

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

I have a feeling, if this scene were to occur with almost any of the other characters in this game, some nonviolent resolution would probably occur.
Unfortunately, Jason chose to anger a...well, let's just say the wrong guy, at the wrong time, in just the right way. I'll let all the rest come out in the wash. To be completely honest, I probably should be thanking you for the opportunity.

Draven (but not for much longer)/Oblivion
Business District(?)

Draven clenched his jaw as he listened to the drivel spilling out of the punk in front of him.

The chill within him deepened...and he no longer cared.

The delinquents attempt at hiding his fear behind a thin veneer of courage and threats. Asking questions that he already knew the answers to...questions that he would never believe the answer to even if he was given them a thousand times.

He's not worth it, just walk away, let him find out what it's really like on his own... some far away part of him said.

He took off his glasses, slipping them into his jackets breast pocket, and began to turn away.

But something else inside him, something stronger, stopped him.
It's wasn't the fact that this guy hurt the nurse, someone who was more than likely trying to help him, and had run away as his way of thanking her for her trouble. Or that his actions, regardless of reason, would almost assuredly once again marr the image of the Ne-Human population of Rainport...

It was that he suddenly represented all the pig-headed, narrow minded, needlessly violent coward-bullies Draven had ever met. The kind of thickheaded self-declared victims of poor upbringing, lashing and acting out just because they were too scared to just think for two seconds and choose a better way, but too dumb to do so even when it was offered to them, and just dim enough that they never gtt blamed for any of it, never truly had to take full responsibility for any of their misdeeds, no matter how horrible.

Three strikes, you’re out echoed crazily through his mind as a singluar word built, from barely a whisper to a mind shattering roar.

NO!!!

Whipping back around, he growled out, between gritted teeth, "You had your chance...now you're going to have to learn the hard way!"

The unnamed thing within him twisted and rose up...

I am a vessel, for what I have now become emerges.

His last thought faded as the nothingness engulfing his senses, drowning out further thought, his head thrown back, the roar in his mind reaching a creshendo and bursting from his mouth.

((Power Activation))
…But not as sound, but a gout of inky black tendrils that burst forth skyward, then whipped down, adhering to, and sliding across his flesh.
Working their way across face, slithering into his collar and under his clothes and rapidly covering his body in a laticework of pulsing black strands, the very air around him seemed to shiver and darken.

Everything became so clear then, his unreadable ebon eyes seeing it all in moments.
The dead-end alleyway with the singular dumpster at it's end.
The solid steel emergency exit door of the building on his left.
...And his prey.

He smiled wickedly.

I guess now we're even and initiative begins

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Arg. This doesn't look good. Guess I'll roll initiative... [roll0]... btw 'Them's Fightin' Words!'
Jason steadied himself for a moment just as the man... no, the thing in front of him began to transform. "Wha... What the hell's wrong with you, man?"

He sidestepped over towards the dumpster, eyes glued onto Oblivion. Taking a deep breath, he disappeared from sight.
Dammit I can't try the door without going flat-footed, and I think I desperately need all the AC I can get. I hate combat! Anyhow, I spent a free talking and move, well, moving, and then my standard moving again. I'm not sure if I need to make a hide check... Anyway, depending on how high the dumpster is off the ground (older ones are usually taller) I'm either under or behind.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

((In all fairness, the intimidation check wasn't rolled against, and I'm assuming it was attempted in an effort to avoid the fight.
Here's the opposed roll (MLC); [roll0].
I'm also assuming the Tactics skill is a reflexive or free action to use...I'm only vaguely familiar with it, but I guess, since it's an "advice" type skill, it's up too Geez3r))

Edit: By the by, I already rolled init., and since I beat your intimidation attempt (officially), you take action first. Let's see what ya got.

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Dammit! Forgot about something... [roll0]
Edit: Just barely made it!
Jason starts to hyperventilate as he feels the closed space of the wall/ground and the dumpster. He wills himself to calm down, trys to force himself to ignore it, and slowly his breathing begins to return to normal. He does his best to think of fields and clouds instead of the trap he found himself. It's just a small space, don't freak out. He told himself, and he felt himself returning to a more normal phase. I have to get out of here.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu stands, waiting for a reply, when a voice chirps up from behind him. "Dressed up for something?"
With a surprised perk of the ears, Nosferatu spins on his heel to face the new arrival. From all that he knew of superheroes, such a quip would be expected from some agile costumed female in a dark and mysterious outfit. However, the source of the voice was not that at all. Nosferatu looked the women over. She appeared relatively normal. Then again, 'normal' people would rarely walk up to two costumed figures after an event like the Mayor attack and throw snarky remarks at them. But what the eyes could miss, he could still detect with his new senses. Within seconds, Nosferatu had activated the cells buried in his flesh, and kept them deep to prevent from him turning dark green.

I sort of debated on this, but settled with using due to the hyper confident behaviour. If it had been "Hey, I saw you on TV!" the scan would not be necessary.

Detect power: 3PP spent

Ah yes, this person emitted the distinct "taste" of one of the altered. But it was strange, and like all the others, unique. Where as Infrerno had the distinct reek of burning, and Kid Zeus emitted an ozone like flavour, this women gave the sense that she was spread over some vast distance, like taffy pulled apart. What could that mean? Could she be a teleporter, and the stretch was due to the residue of travel?

Nosferatu answers after several seconds, the deep grumbling voice at odds with the words spoken.
"It never hurts to get an early start for halloween. My name is Nosferatu, but I shall allow the charged up figure beside me make his own introductions. And who might you be?"

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion (Draven’s not exactly here right now…)
Business District

The smile enlarged, it’s true intent and meaning becoming clear; A snarl of pure animal aggression.

The look on the boys face served only to fuel the cold fire of rage that burned within him.

“Coward!” he growled, his voice now possessed of a deep inhuman echo.

((Power Activation))

Clearing the distance between himself and the dumpster in a single leap, he landed nimbly in a crouch.

“What’s wrong boy. Does seeing the truth frighten you? Or is it the guilt of victimizing that woman that haunts you?
...You can’t run away from your problems forever, nor the consequences brought about by those selfsame problems.” he said, his voice low and filled with menace.

With head cocked to the side, his breathing deep and regular, he considered the options currently presented to him with reptilian-like precision.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

((Misposted jump check for the record))
Jump: [roll0]
He's aiming to land on the top of the dumpster. I'm assuming the alley is no more than thirty feet (30') long and that the dumpster is large (so 25 or better should make it).

[kpenguin]

Ryan Tran/Ace
The Hospital

Ryan walks into a cold hospital room. A young man lies on a bed connected to several machines in the middle of the room. No one else is there.

Ryan walks slowly to the bed, pulls up a chair, and sits. He stares at the young man for a while before opening his mouth to speak. His face is solemn and his voice is soft and quiet.

"Hey Eric. How are you? I was going to bring you something, but I couldn't think of what to bring. Funny, huh? I guess I don't know you as well as I wish."

He pauses for a moment.

"The doctor says he thinks you're going to pull through. I know it. You're strong, like me."

His mouths twists into a small smile for a moment.

"Well maybe not like me, but hey, not everyone can be me."

His smile fades a little.

"Hey, you know, you're missing out on some crazy things. There was an explosion, just a few nights ago. Everyone's talking about it."

He leans in a bit closer.

"Some of these people here, they... changed. They got these, well, powers. Like out of a comic book. But... I guess you'd know something about that.

You know what's even crazier? Some these guys are dressing up in costumes and going off to be superheroes and stuff like that. I bet you'd really like that. People being heroes."

He leans in very close, his voice drops to a whisper.

"You know what's the craziest thing of all? I have powers too and I'm going to try to be a hero."


He leans back, his voice still very quiet.

"I know, me of all people. Crazy, huh?

I guess its because of something that happened the other day. I helped this old lady with a mugger. It felt good, helping her.

You're always talking about how good you feel, just helping people. I never understood what you meant until that moment. I guess I've always been too concerned with my own pleasure to notice what you say."

Ryan gets up and puts his hand on his brother's arm.

"Listen, Eric. I'm going to try and make you proud of me, for once. I'm going to try to do what you've been doing all you're life: just helping people. So, can you do something for me? Can you make me proud and just get through this? For me, little bro?"

He lets go and begins to leave. At the door, he looks back.

"Next time, I'll bring you something. You're my brother. I should know what to bring."

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

I hate the server speed. It takes me forever to do anything

The old wooden house is lit like embers. A fire roars in the otherwise quiet living room, dappling patches of light and casting strange shadows through the room's esoteric contents.

Dark opens the front door and is backlit by the fire. He seems momentarily celestial, a body moving in front of the sun; his huge frame all but fills the doorway. And then he moves to one side and in so doing appears more... but not quite... human.

"Mr Reaper," Dark says with a voice like a tiger's purr. He extends a hand in a gesture of invitation. "Do come in".

And once inside it is Dark the conversationalist. Dark the convivial, fascinating and fascinated professor. Dark the urbane and beautiful. It was difficult to imagine him as anything other than the image he paints of himself.

"You have undergone quite the change in only two days," he says, sitting close to the hearth. "Phyical and, so I hear, moral. If you know Nosferatu then you know about tomorrow's meeting. In which case I am curious about why you wish to speak to me now".

He indicates a seat for you. In the fire light his hand, like white marble, looks graceful, unnatural and as hard as stone.

"Can I interest you in a beer or some chips?" Dark asks, with a strange tinge of hope in his voice.

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus



She leans against a wall for a moment, studying the two of them, then shrugs. Why not, after all? She walks up to the pair of them, who looked... young, actually, what she could see and hear of them from closer. She looks them over with raised eyebrows, clearly evaluating them, then speaks, sounding amused. "Dressed up for somewhere?"

Kid Zeus looked over, interrupting his thought processes about if Riff would make a good addition to their little super team. He couldn't hide a boyish grin at Judy's question, knowing that he most likely looked ridiculous, even though he thought it had looked pretty cool in the mirror at home. Before he could answer, Nosferatu piped up.


Nosferatu answers after several seconds, the deep grumbling voice at odds with the words spoken.
"It never hurts to get an early start for halloween. My name is Nosferatu, but I shall allow the charged up figure beside me make his own introductions. And who might you be?"

"I don't know about you, man. I just think it's terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future." he added, not being able to resist quoting a certain movie he had at home. He let the current running through his veins come to the surface for just a moment, bluish-white bolts playing over the surface of his body like he was a human tesla coil, then he shut it off. Didn't want to scare her off. "It's 'Kid Zeus' while I'm wearing this crazy getup. What's up?" The electricity that had been jumping across his skin seemed to collect in his eyes to make them glow. He didn't seem to be doing it on purpose.

[blennus]

“The Man”

“I must say that I am impressed. Your reputation is well earned. I had expected that very little was known, but in a short 36 hours you have already begun to unlock much of the mysteries in our mutant physiology. My hat is off to you sir.”
“As for harvesting mutants, that was never something I had considered. I had only thought that new substances could be perhaps studied, and then synthesized somehow. I do realize that such work must be done voluntarily. Your study of this Inferno gentleman is very fascinating though. Indeed I would be grateful if I could receive any updates on mutant ability research.”
“As for your unwillingness to work on my multiple personality disorder, caused by the mutagen I understand. Personally I do not consider my alter-ego real, but rather a repressed portion of my past life, prior to my transformation. However I appreciate your value of human life and the possibility that it is indeed a real “person”, therefore I will not press the issue. I would never ask one such as yourself to compromise your moral integrity merely for my benefit. And I do thank you for your discretion.”
“Before I go I would like to volunteer some skin and tissue samples, so if you could direct me to whatever area is most appropriate, it would be most appreciated.”

Summary: Blah blah blah. Direct me to tissue samples lab.

[The_Snark]

Judith

Judy eyes the glow in the second of the two figures' eyes askance for a moment, not really sure what to make of it. Before now, the only... 'mutants', for want of a better word... that she knew had looked relatively normal. Alex's tentacles were unusual, but an extra limb was an extra limb, no matter how bizarre the idea might seem. She didn't look any different at all, and Nerros hadn't, either, not that she'd seen. This pair was different, more like the ones on TV; glowing eyes, a raspy, dramatic voice, and so on. She wonders if they're doing that on purpose, to try to accentuate their 'costumes'—it would make going unnoticed in their real lives difficult if it was something they really couldn't stop.

"What's up?" she repeats, mouth quirking upwards in amusement. "A couple days ago, I'd have figured you two were just nuts and walked on by. These days, I think everyone's a little more curious." She studies them a moment longer. "Were you two were at the fire earlier? I didn't see that myself, but I heard about it." One of them had been flying earlier, and how many costumed, flying figures could there be? More than I really want to think about. I'd have thought that only a couple people would actually fight crime in costume, if someone asked me about it before and I somehow took them seriously... maybe I'm just an optimist.

Still, at least these two have a sense of humor about it.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper enters Dark's home, staying carefully in the shadows. The dim firelight was not particularly harmful to him, but it still bothered him to be in it. He answered Dark, "No, thank you. I no longer need to eat or drink. Let us proceed to business."

"You have placed yourself in a curious position, Professor Dark. It seems clear that you are capable of manipulating the events that are unfolding, and that you have chosen to do so. What I have come to find out is why. You have spoken, and the world has changed a little. What will you do with this power? You are far more dangerous than a simple superpowered being like Nosferatu or Kid Zues. If they used their powers for evil, they could be killed. I trust my ability to stop them should they go mad with power. But you, Professor Dark, you are far more subtle. You can play on the hearts and minds of the people, and if I should try to stop you your slaves would rise up to protect their master. You are dangerous, Professor Dark, and I will know now what you intend. Speak."

[evisiron]

*Do Not Read Until Noon Tuesday Due to DM Shutdown*

Nosferatu

"Hmm, you would think everyone is a 'little more curious' but you are the only one who has come up to talk to us. I guess some people have a more direct stake in the mutates in the city, right?"

Nosferatu paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. On one hand, it might be a little awkward to reveal this new arrival as a mutate. Then again, the only ones who would be likely to hear are Kid Zeus and himself, and they were not exactly aggressive to other people in the same situation. Of course, perhaps she didn't know that she was a mutate... In that instance, it might be quite a shock. But then she could figure it out carefully, instead of figuring out that she has powers through some tragic activation, such as teleporting several hundred meters in the air while reaching for a can.

Bah, more good than ill would come of it. Besides, playing mind games was not exactly Nosferatu's 'thing'. Subtlety could be left to the people in suits for now.

Nosferatu starts speaking again with a gesture to the burn areas on his leg and arm, melted plastic showing through the gap.

"Yeah, I was at the fire. If only these had been caused by cigarette burns...Kid Zeus was there too, along with some others. We were able to help get the building evacuated before some nutter blew it apart.

So, what is your name? Of course, if you would rather not use your real name, I would be more than happy to help you come up with one linked to your powers"

Nosferatu finishes with a casual, open armed stance, despite the 'bombshell' he just dropped.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

Dark leans back in his seat.

"You probably wouldn't want any tea, either, then".

The crackling of the fire is the only sound while Dark's intense and unwavering eyes study his newest guest.

"There is no zealot like a convert, that's how the saying goes. Very well. It is the challenge that defines the age. The Soviet Union put America's first man on the moon. Hitler created a stable and unified Europe. Religious persecution brought our ancestors over the sea and greed made them to slaughter the peoples of the new world and from that iniquitous morass came this nation which in its best moments places liberty above gold".

"The challenges of our age are monumental. Need I list them? Suffice to say that the most urgent of them is a being who intends the destruction of our way of life. He is the fire. And as all people in all ages have been tested, so we will be tested. And when the fire subsides we will be either steel or ashes".

"Do you want to know if I dream of power, of a tyrant's throne atop a mountain of skulls? A childish ambition. I wish for none of what is to come. I am the very hand of fate and I will guide this world through disaster for there is none better than I to do so. I am the first son of today and father of all tomorrows".

"You think I have slaves, or want them? None call me master".

Dark rises from his seat and crosses the room. An elegant display of spears is fanned across the wall and Dark selects one of them.

"What are you? And what do you want? To kill one set of people rather than another? Will all your remaining days be drowned in screams of the dying? And will your memory be a tale to frighten children when all that remember the real horror are also dead?"

He takes the spear and places it into Reaper's hand and quickly, without ceremony, kneels down and puts the point over his heart. His gaze never wavers and is locked onto Reaper's.

"Did you think that you had recanted your ways?" Dark asks. "No. You are a murderer still. The choice comes now. The choice is always made in the moment, by instinct. Kill me and watch this world vanish. Or help me face what waits for us and in so doing come to know a better purpose for yourself. There can be no grey areas between us. We are allies or we are enemies and one of us will not survive that".

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper listens to Dark's bold speech, then replies, "I do not wish to kill any more. If the world is merciful then I will never have to, but I doubt the world is merciful. If the world was merciful then I would never have been brought into it. But as for you..." He pauses, then drops the spear on the ground. "Your blood will not stain my hands today. Still I do not trust you, for any serpent can have honey on their tongue, but I will give you your chance to do good. You have the power, of that I am certain. You deserve the chance."

[geez3r]

There's not nearly as much as I would expect for this post, but what'll you do?

Jason/Oblivion

{Weee Pvp combat. Jason’s knowledge of tactics gives him an edge, by which I mean a +2 to initiative, +2 AC (applies to all), +2 attack rolls, +2 damage rolls (all circumstance modifiers) while fighting in this area for the next 6 rounds. The two of you are doing a good job by yourselves, so I’m more of less just a ref and give our rulings for the more obscure tactics. Oblivion’s jump check makes the DC.)


Gust

When you peer into the car, you find the driver obviously a little dazed in his seat, there’s some blood on the airbag, so he is apparently roughed up a bit. However, he doesn’t appear to want to give up, as he staggers out of the car, wobbling a bit as he tentatively takes a few steps. You can’t place it, but something just seems… wrong… with the way he is moving. The police pull out their guns and one of them shouts “Freeze! Get down on the ground with your hands on your head!” The criminal makes no move to do either and continues staggering away.


Legion

The guard you threated gulps as you walk away. It appears as if the guards have decided that whatever they’re being paid to guard this bank is not worth it anymore. The 2 guards in the deposit area don’t make any move to stop you finishing up, and you hear no movement from the 3 in the office room.


Reaper/Nos/Pulse/”Ignored” NPC’s

To Reaper: The Mayor give you permission to leave and says “Make sure I don’t regret my decision here today, or there will be all kinds of Hell to pay.”

The Lt. General disappears for a moment and comes back with a mini head set that bears a striking resemblance to a Bluetooth. “A cell is unreliable, we’ll use this to contact you, and besides, I don’t think you could very well walk into a store and buy one.”

Nos: You manage to snag a word with Titan and Inferno who both agree to go to the meeting, though Titan looks a little nervous, though who wouldn’t be, he’s about to meet a dozen or so genuine heros, none of whom he’s ever met. Inferno on the otherhand practically jumps at the opprotunity saying he wants to race everyone there to figure out who’s the fastest.

Pulse: The Mayor and Lt. each thank you in kind for your compliments, and thank you for your contributions to the city. Just as you are about to get on your glider the Lt. General covertly says “You know, if you ever need a little extra cash, the military will pay handsomely for some of your inventions.”


Murky
{The only other “exit” so to speak is further down the hall, but you can’t see it because the hall way turns to the left.}

You slink out of the shadows unnoticed and succesfully take down one of the thugs, grabbing his shotgun before it his the ground. The other two thugs spin around, obviously frightened, and point their guns at you in shaking hands “Drop the gun man, just drop it.” The other one shouts up top “Boss, he’s down here, and got Charlie already.” “Be down in a sec.” is the reply, but the big guy doesn’t appear to be in much of a hurry.
{You’re up.}

The Man

Dr. Wilson nods and rises from his chair “If you’ll follow me please.” A short trip later you find yourself in more or less a standard room that one might visit to get a physical. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to. It has been a pleasure.” About 10 minutes after the doc leaves a nurse comes in and (if allowed) takes a tissue sample, a blood sample and a sample of that drug you mentioned on your skin.

{I’m kinda skipping the detail here, because doctor appointments are terribly exciting}

[harmonictempest]

Ho hum, not much to do during combat except react.
Perhaps he couldn't hear them over the wind... Gust allows the wind to die down, affording some measure of calm to the situation. Then, still poised for the unexpected (because there's something weird here I can't quite place), he moves to stand in the man's wobbling path. His tall but slight figure moves with assurance, and he takes a loose pose in front of the man that speaks of withheld action like a coiled spring. His loose garb seems almost medieval, alien in this setting, despite the cuffs of jeans barely visible under the edge of the robe when he moves. Though clearly not the strongest of figures, the glint in his eyes speaks to an assurance of physical superiority, and the observant might decide that he's even hopeful for a chance to fight. The scene becomes tense, and it's not difficult to imagine a camera panning from an elevated angle to take in the whole scene, figures frozen in place and waiting for the next move, flashing lights irrelevant under the stark glare of street lamps, onlookers and participants alike holding their collective breath, underlying music low, pulsing, and expectant.
Then Robert Blain speaks with more confidence than he has ever previously possessed in his life.
"Maybe you didn't hear the policemen. They told you to freeze."

Not blocking the policemen's line of fire if I can help it. Previous action still readied.

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Since, according the the SRD, a jump is considered part of a Move action, and Gnome4ever hasn't posted his next action yet, I'm using this opportunity to take my Standard.

Balancing easily on his haunches atop the closed dumpster lid, he listened carefully for his prey, attuning his senses to his environment.

Listen:[roll0], particularly to find out if I hear him struggling to not panic

The next move will be critical, I will not be lulled into a false sense of superiority. Truly, he is now the cornered dog, unless...

His body like a coiled spring, he remained patiently watchful.

((For Gnome4ever)): I'm assuming two things at this point: First, that he's behind the dumpster, because you didn't specify one or the other (please do so in future), and since it's against human instinct to expose their back in a threatening situation.
Second, that he's considered "squeezing" (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/combat/movementPositionAndDistance.htm) under the heading Terrain and Obstacles.
Generally, dumpsters are placed a lot closer to walls than 5 feet.
I've I'm not mistaken, that would make him impossible to attack from all but directly above or directly to either side, in which case the bonuses balance out the penalties, giving him his normal AC, with his additonal +2 from Tactics.
I've asked Geez3r, to determine if he thinks otherwise, but I'm going with that for now.

[kpenguin]

Ryan Tran/Ace
The Hospital

As Ryan leaves the hospital, he spots the gaggle of hospital workers gathered outside. They seemed to be circled around two nurses. The one who looked a little shaken was a bit cute. The one with green skin? Totally hot.

Well, if I'm going to be a superhero, I should probably start now. Plus, if I help out, I might get to take one home.

Ryan walks over to the group. He starts to ask what's going on, but stops himself.

Wait. Superhero, right? I should probably say something witty. Hmmm... doctors... I know!

Ryan's mouth curves into a smirk and he tries to saunter in as coolly as possible.


"Hey, what's up docs?"

Ryan grimaces a little.

Okay, that was lame. Definitely not picking anyone up tonight. I should probably work on some material. Maybe I should hire a writer or something.

[Wiz]

Dr. Harold Smith a.k.a. Pulse

As Harold prepares for another outing he thinks back to his conversation with the general. It made him smile to remember telling the general that he would consider the offer, knowing that his particular devices would not do the military any good whatsoever. His misdirection as to the source of his power seemed to be working, however, and if it saved his life even once, it would be worth the small deception. He frowned, considering that in the past he actually did construct several weapons for various employers, some connected with the military, but now that his business is going private he has no intention of making weapons again... sure that his increased intelligence could produce even more deadly devices of destruction... and knowing for certain that he never wanted to feel responsible for such a misuse of his intellect again.

Fortified with a large meal, and donning his makeup and costume, Pulse heads out into the city once more. an evasive route away from his house he begins to patrol the southern section of the city. Hearing a scream for help, he notices an alley where several lights click on in the surrounding tenements. As he turns his glider toward there, he notices with some anger that people seem to be looking out of their windows at what is unfolding below, but not doing anything about it. The girl, cornered by four large men is calling for help, but she seems more angry than scared, and indeed one of the fellows goes down suddenly, clutching his groin at her expert kick. Another man slips behind her though and grabs her arms, leaving her flailing as the other two advance. As Pulse swoops down to ground level, his multipurpose sonic screwdriver is out, beeping and whizzing as he points it at a nearby dumster. Hearing the low thrum of the engine, the two spin about, seeing Pulse coming toward them, but totally miss the dumpster which rolls at them suddenly from the side crashing into them and sending them flying against the nearby wall. The remaining thug, still holding the girl says, "Back off flyboy or I'll break her arms!" He howls suddenly as the girl plants her heel down firmly on the toe of his boot, breaking several small bones. He throws her aside, then looks up, gaping as Pulse grabs his cape, causing it to billow out, pulling him backward off the glider which continues to speed toward the thug. A flat plate folds up on the front, turning it into a battering ram as it hits him in the chest with a sickening crack of ribs.

Silence fills the alley as Pulse glances around at the moaning or damaged fellows. He pulls his guns out slowly and dramatically. "Shall we dance?" The one the girl kicked seems to recover first and he doesn't bother to stand but pulls out a gun and fires at Pulse. The hero seems startled by the thug's swift action... certainly he couldn't be startled by the fact the bullet hit him dead on, and bounced off! The thugs, however, seeing that their opponent is apparently bulletproof, get shakily to their feet and begin running off, nursing their wounds. Pulse points the beeping sonic screwdriver at his glider and its engine shuts down, then he turns toward the girl. "Are you allright, miss?"

The woman looks at him squarely, and defiantly. "You're one of those mutants!" Pulse smiles, "I prefer mutate, but I suppose you use whatever term you're comfortable with... look them up sometime, though, if you want to know which is correct." She shakes her head, "Are you wearing body armor?" He chuckles, "It's funny... I have all these gadgets and people would think I had nothing defensive either. May I know the name of the person I have the honor of rescuing?" She frowns, "I could have handled that trash by myself... I've been in worse fixes." Pulse nods, "I can see you have a healthy dose of confidence. In that case, may I know who it was who helped me scare off those low-lives?" She smiles, "I'm Kellie Kellog, ace reporter for the Rainport news. Aren't you going to go after them?" Pulse shakes his head, "I think it would be far more effective if they carry news to their compatriots that crime no longer pays as well... and far more painful a lesson too if they aren't provided the best possible medical care on the city's tab. I'm called Pulse, by the way, sometime inventor and provider of minor assistance to those who can mostly handle situations by themselves." Kellie smiles, "I do owe you one... could I perhaps get an exclusive interview?" Pulse chuckles, "Perhaps another time, and then you'll owe me two; but I'm sure that a new crimefighter like myself can find a way to be payed back by an ace reporter... and get her some stories in the process. I'll be in touch, okay?" He points his device at the glider, activiating it, and causing it to rise, hovering. Then he leaps aboard as it slowly begins to cruise past. "Perhaps I'll follow our new friends for a few blocks... get the lesson in firmly. It's hell to run with broken ribs!" He waves and turns, slowly gliding down the alleyway like a huge bat with a jet engine. Kellie smiles calling out, "Don't wait too long... I'm going to have to have something to follow up this story soon!"

ooc: acquiring my new contact (from last level)

[MountainKing]

Gerard sat quietly in his living room, watching the news reports replaying over and over from the last few days. Mutants in the city, imbued with superhuman powers by a chemical explosion... Exceptional individuals jumping to the fore, helping beleaguered citizenry... heroes. A man, one Professor Lachlan Dark, calling for a meeting of the mutants in the city, to unify under the banner of justice. Gerard smiled bitterly at that; he no longer had any use for their "justice". It was a tool, a ploy; the ideal had died long forgotten years ago, at the hands of humanity.

Gerard stood then, flexing his hands as he turned on the CD player and turned to the gathered cleaning materials on his kitchen table. He had already gone through the apartment once, but it would never, ever hurt to be certain. A gentle melody began to drift through the apartment, courtesy of an acoustic guitar... until a finger jabbed down on the "Next" button, silencing the music and moving to another disc. Something more orchestral was in order; Gerard needed to calm his beating heart, yet feed his insatiable soul. Luciano Pavarotti would do nicely.

Humming softly, his feet moving with perfect tempo, Gerard gathered up his materials, and returned to the bathroom. He began with a simple spraying of bleach on the tub, coating every inch of the fiberglass surfaces with cleansing chemical. With a washrag in hand, he scrubbed vigorously, alternating between humming softly and singing snatches of opera as he worked. As a finishing touch, he plugged the drain and filled the tub with a quarter inch of bleach, permitting it to sit; he would drain the tub in a few hours. Standing, he washed his hands, not wanting the chemicals to harm his skin.

His next chore, the doorknob, which also received a coating in bleach and a vigorous scrubbing. Satisfied, he put away his various cleaning solutions, and turned to the vacuum cleaner. The apartment was relatively small, yet Gerard still took a full ten minutes going over ever inch of carpet and furniture that Rex Turner had sat or stood upon; the man WAS balding, after all. Finally satisfied, he stowed the vacuum in his closet, and settled back onto the couch, donning his leather gloves, putting his feet up and relaxing with the collected works of Shakespeare.

He had a debut to plot, and any good actor always prepared for their debut.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"What a good choice," Dark replies and in the flame touched darkness a glint shines in his eye. A source of light not found in the polished items that glister and shimmer in the fire's light.

"Ah!" he says, his voice touched by a breathless and hungry anticipation and... fear. "Critical mass!"

A lightningbolt, a literal spike of celestial and cerulean power, arcs from Dark's body and discharges itself into a large metal shield. It bounces from its place on the wall and skids across the room to stop, smoking on the wooden floor. A second, then a third, much less in power than the first, discharge into the room's many metal objects.

Then rather than arc, the lightning seems to flow over the entirity of Dark's body, rushing over him like waves, crashing and breaking in a storm of lethal energy.

Dark stands and then rises further. His feet do not touch ground and as the power surges, pulses, he throws back his head - his clothing ignited by the flames; his body alight like Inferno, like a living nightmare - and he screams!

And just as suddenly the fire is gone, leaving the room somehow darker than before.

The blackened body of the professor hangs motionless in mid air as if suspended from a meathook, without sign, without indicator, of enduring life. And the smell of smouldering skin drowns out all sensation.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

OOC: This may end up in conversation juggling, but oh well. We can't have Nos and KZ standing in proximity without some barrage of bad puns and odd comments!

Nosferatu waits for a reply for a moment, when a thought strikes him. Turning to Kid Zeus,

"Wait. "When wearing this crazy getup?" Kid Zeus is not your given name? Blast, I thought I had found a kindred soul to share the pain of parents with a fanboy complex and a sense of humour when naming their children. I am shocked at the deceit. SHOCKED!"

There is a brief pause as Nosferatu catches up with what he just said, letting a small chuckle slip.

"Haha, I promise I didn't think of that before hand. Ah, I sure it won't happen again, you know what they say about lightning striking twice"

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"Dude..." Kid Zeus couldn't help but laugh at Nos's horrible puns. "Keep it up and I'll knock you out. No joke." he shook his head. "Don't tell me you're taking that superhero banter thing seriously. If I have to hear that every time we take down a couple of street thugs I'm going to go insane."

"Anyway, yeah, we were at the fire earlier. Did I hear that right? You have powers, too? Awesome!" he said, trying to keep his voice down so only the three of them could hear. "What can you do?"

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

At the first hint of light the Reaper reflexively lept into the shadows, and he did his best to hide from the arcing bolts of brilliant death. When darkness claimed the room once more, he observed Professor Dark's charred body, without leaving the safety of the shadows. Invisible, he creapt near him, trying to see if he was still alive. It was undoubtedly some form of power, but did he also have the power to survive it? From his speech, it sounded like he saw it coming, and was enthused, relishing the moment. He remembered unlocking his own latent powers, and continued to wonder about the nature of the mutations. Would they all continue to grow stronger, until the world would be utterly consumed by their powers and all life on the planet completely obliterated? The future was difficult to forsee, so the Reaper returned to the present.

Emerging from the shadows, the Reaper moved beside Dark's still form, checking for a pulse. He suddenly thought of how badly this would look if Dark was dead, but he pushed they thought aside. Best to deal with that hurdle when it came. If it came. Dark could still be alive.

[The_Snark]

Judy

Judy blinks, rocking back on her heels as the one with the lower voice—Nosferatu?—casually mentions something linked to her "powers". Fortunately, something the other had said catches his attention, and she has a few seconds to think, barely paying attention to the banter between the two. What? Is he guessing? He'd have to be crazy to assume I was in the blast, too, just because I'm talking to him. I can't have been the first person to talk to him since then—the news, at least, if he was at the fire. Is he like Nerros? Can he actually tell? By the time Kid Zeus is finished rolling his eyes, she's collected herself again.

"Wait- back up a second there. My what? What are you talking about?" If they coud somehow see whatever changes had been made to her, she couldn't deny it, but they didn't have to know she already knew. D*mnit. How many people are going to find out about this, anway? How many before my life's been completely changed by the whole business?

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

At the back of his head, Nosferatu could almost hear the words "Oh no, now you have got him started..."

"Yeaaaah...superhero banter... its totally not how I act in real life"

Nosferatu leans in and speaks in a hushed voice.

"Seriously, feel for my friends and family"

Nosferatu leans back to standing position again as his eyes almost glaze over.

"But who knows, perhaps that specific type of joke has been enhanced like the rest of my abilities, giving birth to a new hero. The PUN-isher! Thankfully though the vampire powers are cool enough to prevent me from changing. But oh... if I got ice based powers... there is so much opportunity there... I actually had this conversation years ago. Wonder how much I can remember."

Readying action to dodge Zid Zeus if necessary :smallbiggrin:

Nosferatu takes a deep breath for dramatic effect

"FREEZE! (either by me or cop), Time to cool you off, Ic-see you, A Freeze is Coming, Fear Uber Frosty the Snowman!, I only have ice for her, Did it just get cold in here, FROST SHOCK!, Wrap up warm, Ooohhh.. Frost-brurned, I can freeze hell over!, My appearance is chilling, is it not?, The Iceman Cometh, Ice of you to stop by, Ice ice that baby (villains only), You are skating on thin ice!, oh I'm getting chills just thinking about it, Ice Cubed! (after at least 3 ice based attacks), I will frost-bite your legs off"

Nosferatu shakes his head, returning from his 'trance'.

"Sorry, I think I slipped away there. The last time I started rhyming off that list I was stopped by a blunt strike to the back of my head. It has kind of stuck with me since then. *Ahem* Where were we?"

[evisiron]

Judy

Judy blinks, rocking back on her heels as the one with the lower voice—Nosferatu?—casually mentions something linked to her "powers". Fortunately, something the other had said catches his attention, and she has a few seconds to think, barely paying attention to the banter between the two. What? Is he guessing? He'd have to be crazy to assume I was in the blast, too, just because I'm talking to him. I can't have been the first person to talk to him since then—the news, at least, if he was at the fire. Is he like Nerros? Can he actually tell? By the time Kid Zeus is finished rolling his eyes, she's collected herself again.

"Wait- back up a second there. My what? What are you talking about?" If they coud somehow see whatever changes had been made to her, she couldn't deny it, but they didn't have to know she already knew. D*mnit. How many people are going to find out about this, anway? How many before my life's been completely changed by the whole business?

OOC: Hmm, this really seems like a sense motive vs bluff kind of call, since Nos would likely label you as niave if you win, or a liar if you don't. Normally I would rather use the text for this, but this may change the early impressions of a character for the rest of the game.

Sense motive: 21
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1469892/

Roll opposed bluff I guess.
And please give Nos a name, before I have to start referring to you as 'that lady' :smallwink:

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu studied the women for a moment. She seemed to act defensively when the powers were mentioned. It seemed she was well aware of at least one power she possessed. However, Nosferatu doubted it was because she was trying to deceive him, he would act the same if someone talked like that to him while wearing his 'street clothes' after all.

Nosferatu checked his voice so no-one but the group could hear.

"Your powers. Super human abilities that you now possess due to the chemical explosion the other day, that you previously did not have. To be honest, I don't know what the power is exactly, but its pretty obvious you have them.

And hey, out of everyone in the city, you should be safe enough discussing it with other people in your situation. Well, us at least.

So, what's your name and/ or powers?"

[Gnomish Wanderer]

You took your turn?
So... with my last turn I guess I made the knowlege tactics. I'll do my best this one...
Jason took a deep breath and felt the surge of energy flow through him. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he had to get out.

Jason pushed himself forward toward the street, nearly falling as he almost leapt from behind the dumpster. He immediately turned at the black thing staring down at him, and shot out his hand, just trying to touch the creature. Sure, not a long post but still. I guess i'll move out and then use a standard to try and touch you. If I do manage to lay a hand on you, roll a will save. Here's my touch attack: [roll0]
Edit: Urg. Not my best. Well, at least I tried.

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

As Reaper approaches the body he doesn't need to feel for a pulse... he can see one.

Veins stand out all over the blackened skin of the professor, but they seem translucent, and within microscopic motes of light flow all in one direction, back towards the heart.

Dark splutters and gasps, regaining consciousness. One eye rotates and falls upon Reaper.

"Better... stand..." he mumbles. "Back!"

And in the space of half a dozen heartbeats the motes double in number, then again. They can be seen not only in the large veins, but in the tiny capillaries in Dark's eyes. As they move through the charred skin, it seems to fall away, cracking and dropping to the floor to reveal a new layer beneath.

Only seconds later and the individual motes become indistinguishable, their number having swelled a hundred fold. Dark, the whole of the man, glows with a diffuse, unearthly light that grows to be as bright, in this dark room, as a dozen candles. Here it holds steady, while the professor descends and touches down onto the floor again.

The glowing Dark, possessed of full faculty, returned to physical perfection and entirely naked, smiles at his guest.

"Well," he says with total nonchalance, surrounded by what seems like a permanent aura of white light. "That was exciting. Now if you'll excuse me, I don't feel we know each other well enough for me to continue our conversation without trousers".

He leaves the room and heads up stairs, muttering, "I only bought those a couple of hours ago".

He returns, dressed, after a minute and slumps in a chair. He says, "Of course there are calculations which need to be done and I admit it's only a slim possibility, but I think I've just broken the first law of thermodynamics. Which, if you're a physicist, is really quite the big deal... So I'm definitely going to have a beer even if you're not".

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper is mildly impressed by Dark's display, but he has learned long ago that those who look strong are often weak, and those who look weak are really strong. Where had he learned that? It was on the verge of recollection, but Dark's words drove it from his mind.

Answering Dark's comment, he said, "I haven't worn clothing since the accident, but I suppose it doesn't matter as much for me. If I couldn't remember my gender I wouldn't be able to deduce it. The sacrifices one must make to be a hero." He sighes slightly as Dark walks away, in a bemused, sarcastic manner. When Dark returns he says, "I assume that you have your own theories on the continued development of the supers. Obviously you have observed such evolution. What I am still trying to figure out is why we obtained the powers we did. As a man of science, I would like your input."

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Oblivion
Business District

From behind the steel obstruction, he heard the focus of his ire manage to control it's respiration, a single slow breath before it began to scramble to escape.

Observing his prey coldly as it emerged clumsily from it's hiding place, he watched, as if in slow motion, as the man-creature extended it's hand out toward him, the look of desperation and fear evident in it's eyes.

He felt the flow of energy swirling within it's limb, and the dark strands covering him shivered hungrily.

The cornered beast lashes out.

A multitude of feasible responses to the potential threat flowed through his mind like reflections upon a moonlit pool, the best one snapping into focus the merest moment before he was struck.

Flipping upwards into a backflip, he nimbly removed himself from the path of the attack, appearing to almost disapear for a moment, before landing again in a crouch and whipping out with an attack of his own.

His senses missed nothing, the feeling of his preys fast beating heart, the wind against his face as he spun in the air, the look of suprise on it's face as realization dawned.

His hand ripped throught the air, his open palm and hooked fingers like the iron claws of a raptor.

Unarmed Melee Attack (yes he has Improved):[roll0] (+1 to attack for higher ground) Damage:[roll1]

((For Gnome4ever)) He has another attack, but how, and even if, it is executed will depend of the success or failure of the first attack, so let me know if he hits

[PlasticSoldier]

"Time to go, Drill." Orig says.

Drill & Orig. start runnng to the van, when Orig is by the door that the 3 people are in he'll stop & look inside returning fire if hes attacked. If he's not he'll continue over to Guard clone and check if he's alive. Drill when he gets to the van will drop his stuff off & then pull the van around to the front.

1d20+2=6, 2d6=8 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1470835/)

[The_Snark]

Judy

Judy returns Nosferatu's measuring look with interest. No, he wasn't just guessing. Pretty obvious? Do I have a sign on my back reading I Was In The Blast? "Powers? I don't think... d*mn." She grimaces—at the ground, not Nosferatu, but she's clearly not happy about this.

"I live near the warehouse, as it happens. Right next to where the quarantine zone was. I was hoping... well, anyway." She fixes her gaze on him. "What do you mean, it's pretty obvious? How can you tell? I haven't been able to see a physical difference for the life of me, though the last couple days have felt weird as hell." Why did she feel so awkward saying what had happened to her? She hadn't told Alex, though he suspected, and these two knew already, somehow. It didn't really make a difference if they knew exactly what. They were just two people she'd met on the street, of course, who were hiding their real names and faces. It simply felt personal. Maybe that was it. She pushes away her resurfacing thoughts that this incident has somehow altered the way she thinks—she's trying to ignore that.

[Nelphine]

Murky

"Boss? He's your boss? He doesn't seem to care much for you here. Why do you guys work for him?"

As Murky talks he tries to recall what the good guys do when the bad guys don't fight back. It doesn't make sense dang it! They're supposed to wear grey suits, do bad karate, and mostly just get out of the way after something bad happens to them. These guys weren't even shooting at him, and he had just dropped one of them from 15 feet away!

Murky hopes the Boss will explain everything. Maybe he'll shoot at me! I.. holy crud he might shoot at me!

Wasting my round

[The_Lonely_d12]

"Actually, it's happening tomorrow. I'm meeting someone who can supposedly disguise me as a little punk at 5:00 PM. Reaper is helping as well, and I think we'd both feel a little more comfortable with some extra muscle on our side. We're meeting at (wherever the meeting place was). Their hangout is at (wherever their hangout was). Can you make it?"

Davan

"The reaper? You know him? Interesting...

well, this'll give me a good chance to really figure out just what I can do. I feel even stronger as time goes on...is this going to top?

"I'll come along, sure. Do you have any plan for it...how to get in, for example, or are you just making it up as you go along?

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason watched, eyes wide, as the creature does its theatrics and turns to strike. He felt his mind surge as his brain processed the creature's fickle footing and artsy movements in the air, studying the balance of the land and the swing. He pushed himself back a step and bended his torso back, the swift attack coming close enough to feel the soft off-breeze. :smallsmile: didn't hit me
Also I just took the Unbalanced Opponent feat (unlogical but still) with my level. Probably should've mentioned it

[Wiz]

Pulse

The thugs are running down the alleyway, grunting and groaning as they nurse their injuries. A whirring sound comes from behind them and one looks back to see the shadowy form of Pulse on his glider approaching. "He's still following us... run!" They continue to run on ahead, and as they reach a dark, shadowy intersection, one of them dashes to the side and hunkers down in the garbage, in the shadows. The others follow suit and their leisurely pursuer makes his way to the cross intersection, while the thugs stay in the shadows, quiet. Reaching the intersection, and still looking forward in the direction they had been running Pulse pauses, hovering. "Nobody keeps their fingers on the pulse of this city the way I do... do you think that mere darkness can hide your shadowy deeds from my eyes?" He turns slowly, hovering in midair, "You can't shoot me, and in fact you can't reach me... but I can float up here all day taking shots at you if I wish. However, I'll give you one chance to turn your back on your evil ways. If I ever find you harming anyone in my city again..." He pauses, dramatically. "Well, then you will find out what will happen!" He laughs and turns on his glider, rising slowly up into the night.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu looks confused for a second.

"You mean... you can't tell other mutates from 'normal' people?"

Leaning over to Kid Zeus, Nosferatu asks

"You can tell who is a mutate, right?"

Before waiting for a reply, Nosferatu's mind starts recalling every other mutate who knew that he was also one.
Inferno - Watched me fly
Pulse - Flight again
Everyone at the fire - Flight, of course
Dark - Flight... but then, despite never really voicing the thought I kind of assumed Dark had done a scan of the classroom and used that as the starting block towards who I am.
And the costume is a dead give away...

I mean, how can people not tell? All you have to do is clear you mind, let your senses settle, raise the chlorophyll infused cells to the skin- Ah, that would be it then.

"Ah. Well, it seems that is an ability that is unique to me, for the moment"

Nosferatu pauses, almost hearing the end of the "I was hoping...". Could it be "...to lead a normal life?"

"Hey, if you want to keep your new abilities under wraps, thats fine. If only I can tell, it might be easier than I assumed. While I may have been able to see it, I still have no idea who you are 'in real life' so you don't have to worry about me talking.

And yeah, the last few days have been weird for all of us. And if you want to talk to others like yourself, there will be a meeting for well meaning 'altered' tomorrow. I very much doubt that they will be able to answer any questions, or possess more info than you... but sometimes it is good to see you are not alone. The only thing might be... you would want to wear a mask to hide your identity."

Nosferatu smiles beneath his own mask at the oddity of the last sentence, and how normal it sounded in the situation.

[Xerxes Shadow]

Davan

"The reaper? You know him? Interesting...

well, this'll give me a good chance to really figure out just what I can do. I feel even stronger as time goes on...is this going to top?

"I'll come along, sure. Do you have any plan for it...how to get in, for example, or are you just making it up as you go along?

"I put out the unofficial equivalent of a 'classified' ad and got a response. Somebody who says they can transmute the appearances of others. It might be a fake or a STING, but the three of us can easily defeat her if it is. We'll be meeting her tommorrow at (time and location); she'll disguise us as a couple punks." He pauses for a moment. "Also, if the change is permanent, I could do with a haircut."

[ChronicLunacy]

Kid Zeus

"Sense other mutates? What are you talking about, dude? I had no idea she was one of us until you spoke up. It's not like she's on fire or looks like a vampire or anything. Unless she did something cool right here in front of us I'd have never caught it. You must have some special trick that lets you do it." KZ pondered aloud. making sure to keep his voice down so only the three of them could hear him.

"So, do you want to tell us your name or...do you want an alias or something? I feel wierd just going 'hey you, mutate girl', you know?" he grinned sheepishly at Judy. "Oh, hey, just what can you do? Is it awesome?" he asked as his eyes lit up again and sizzled a bit.

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu tilts his head slightly while listening to Kid Zeus.

"Huh. I guess that confirms it about the 'mutate spotter' thing. Hey, if you two don't mind, do you think you could keep that particular ability between us?"

Nosferatu already had an image of himself pinned and secured to some portable table, eyes stitched open, uniformed men barking to say who from the line up was a mutate.

"Seriously. Don't tell anyone about that."

"But I agree with Kid Zeus. We could start calling you Mysterious Stranger, but that would get old really fast. And I am just as eager to hear what you can do."

Nosferatu looks over to the sparking eyes of Kid Zeus, tiny arcs of electricity sizzling between his eyelids.

"Well... maybe not *that* eager."

[The_Snark]

Judy

Judy half-smiles at the Mysterious Stranger remark, despite herself. "Sorry, I never did introduce myself, did I? You kinda caught me off guard. Call me Judy." She knew firsthand the impossibility of trying to track someone down by their first name alone. Besides, reluctant as she was to talk about what was going on as it related to her, she didn't actually have anything to hide from them.

"As for..." She glances sideways a moment, casually checking that nobody else is close enough to hear. "Let's get somewhere a little less public, you know? People are staring." Or they were giving the two costumed guys a funny look and hurrying onward, but it was more attention than she wanted anyway. They weren't paying attention to her, but somebody might remember her face. Why hadn't that occurred to her before she walked up to these two?

Because there was no reason talking to them would be suspicious, she realizes. It wasn't as if that labelled her a... mutate, if that was what they wanted to call them. Nosferatu seeing straight through her must have unnerved her a bit more than she thought. Still did, come to think. It was as if someone had causally mentioned being able to see through her clothes. "Why don't we sit down? Maybe get something to eat? You two can keep the masks on if you like. Just try to keep the eyes down a little," she adds to Kid Zeus, heading towards a restaurant two buildings down the street. Didn't look fancy, which was fine by her. She was starving, now that she thought about it.

Once seated at a comfortable booth, Judy continues, letting the dim restaurant chatter down out her words for anyone not at the table. People were still glancing their way when they noticed, but she didn't feel so... exposed. And if the two would-be heroes felt awkward wearing masks and costumes in such a mundane situation, so be it. "Not a whole lot I can tell you about... me, I'm afraid. Mostly, what I've done is confuse myself a great deal. And thanks for letting me know, but I think I'll give the gathering a pass." If meeting even this many people who knew she'd been changed made her uncomfortable, she wasn't about to compound that by meeting a lot more. "I'd feel pretty d--n silly in a mask."

"How about the pair of you? Aside from an ominous voice and glowing eyes?"

[evisiron]

OOC: I am going to elaborate on this bit, okay? Heading into a restaurant brings various problems, but Nosferatu would likely go in and be careful rather than avoiding it altogether. Feel free to stop me if any of the details mess with Judy or Zid Zeus.

(Judy) "Why don't we sit down? Maybe get something to eat? You two can keep the masks on if you like. Just try to keep the eyes down a little,"

Nosferatu

"Hmm. I am not all that hungry, but I guess we could head in somewhere"

Nosferatu pondered on that. He had eaten relatively little through the day, but was not hungry. Admittedly, he could eat. It was not as if he felt like like he was full. It was likely that the energy for day to day stuff was provided by the sun, but nutrients and proteins would have to be taken up by eating food.

As they walked towards the restaurant, Nosferatu chimed up again with another thought.

"Just as a heads up, we may actually be less obvious out here. People are around, but they are going somewhere. Sure, we get the curious looks, but then they move on. If people dressed like us head into somewhere to eat, we will be static. All it takes is one diner to flick on a camera phone and a video of us eating will be on youtube in a matter of minutes. Probably on the news too. Admitttedly, thats no problem for us, we have already been on the TV from the fire incident. But if you want to remain out of the way..."

The statement was left to hang in the air, but if Judy had heard or aknowledged the worry, she remained silent about it and headed straight for the restaurant.

"Damn. The Hunger has her"

By now, they had reached the restaurant. The building was not overly ornate, but was by no means shabby. It was clean and well maintained, with a reasonably trendy sign in white above the entrance, proclaiming the restaurant to be called "789", with a smaller sign beneath it reading 'Seven Ate Nine'. Within a moment of reaching the entrance, the group of mutates was greeted by an overly enthusiastic waiter.

"Hi, and welcome to..."

His voice trailed off as he looked over the group, a look of surprise, and possibly a hint of reognition playing across his face. He caught himself, and retreated to the safety of his well rehearsed routine.

"...to 7 8 9. Table for 3? If you will follow me..."

Nosferatu reaches out and firmly grabs the mans shoulder.

"By any chance would you have a booth in the corner?"

"Err, yeah, I believe we do. Follow me please"

The group was guided through the dining area, which was relatively busy. Obviously '789' was fairly popular. Nosferatu scanned the faces of the people around him, constantly on the lookout for anyone who might react violently to the 'Altered'. They attracted a few curious glances, but went through uninterrupted. Eventually they reached the corner of the building, where a comfortable booth is waiting for them.
Nosferatu breathes a mental sigh of relief. The booth is positioned so only the table next to them could get a decent view, and it was currently empty.

Nosferatu steps up, and slides into the far side of one of the booths. He looks up, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he waits to see which way people will sit. Would Judy try to sit alone, or would Kid Zeus grab at the chance to sit beside her?

[Seating arrangements to be determined by next Judy/ KZ post]

When they were all seated, the waiter pipes up again.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"Yeah. I will have a glass of O negative, how about you guys?"

The waiter shrinks back in shock and worry, before Nosferatu speaks again.

"Don't worry, I am joking. I am fine for the moment"

The waiter laughs, relief evident on his face. With a quick bustle, he issues a set of menus and rushes off to gather the drinks. Nosfertau waits until he leaves, then sets the menu to the side. It occured to him that such a mundane situation in costume would but him off balance, and to a certain extent, she would be right. It was strange to be sitting indoors after all that had happened. However, there was a confidence that there was unlikely much to be feared in here. And if there was... he could probably deal with it. *They* could probably deal with it.

Judy starts to speak again:
"Not a whole lot I can tell you about... me, I'm afraid. Mostly, what I've done is confuse myself a great deal. And thanks for letting me know, but I think I'll give the gathering a pass." "How about the pair of you? Aside from an ominous voice and glowing eyes?"

"Well, most of the powers I guess you have seen. Standard vampire set I guess; flight, physically stronger, better senses, faster healing. And don't worry, I don't actually drink blood. Kid Zeus, I am guessing... Ice based powers?"

Nosferatu ends on a joking note, but becomes serious again when turning to Judy.

"But you have not exactly described yours, unless it is actually just the ability to 'confuse yourself'. You don't have to be really exact, but I would appreciate knowing something."

Nosferatu shifted slightly, becoming mildy suspicious of 'Judy's' repeated attempts to slip by without answering the question of her powers.

[The_Lonely_d12]

Davan

Davan nods, and smirks slightly while saying

"Good, at least there's some kind of plan. I can probably get us all inside the 'hard' way instead of the soft way, but that'll be much...well, lets just say it'll be easier to notice. Might leave that as a last resort, or a last-chance escape route. This should be fun...That being said, what now? Unless you've got something in mind, I'll need to find something to do until tomorrow's funtime...I don't exactly have any plans."

As he finishes, Davan entwines his fingers and stretches his arms outwards, palms facing forward, causing his knuckles and joints to begin making popping noises.

[The_Snark]

Judy

"I think I can tell if someone's watching me, kid," Judy replies just before they enter. "Thanks for the warning, though."

She slides into the booth across from Nosferatu, ordering water. It isn't at all obvious, and she's perfectly casual about everything, but she watches everyone who looked at them with more than a casual glance, mildly relieved when the booth proves to be out of the way of nearly everybody. Either Nosferatu felt a little more awkward in such a setting than he looked, or he was trying to keep her from being caught out by the media, which she appreciated.

"Standard... vampire?" She quirks an eyebrow. "That's an odd way to put it, but maybe you know more than I do." As Nosferatu turns serious, she does also, twirling the ice in her glass around with a finger before looking up to respond.

"I'd prefer not to describe it further, all right? No offense, but if I'm going to confide in somebody, I'd prefer it to be somebody I know. It feels... maybe a little more personal to me than it does for you, since you're willing to go out in public." She studies the both of them to see if they're taking offense. Both of them seemd nice enough, if a little strange, and she trusted them enough to give them a name, but... "You understand?"

[evisiron]

Nosferatu

Nosferatu looks up at the mention of the 'standard vampire' phrase.

"Ah, guess its not too common a phrase outside specific circles. I was just relating it to the closest general point of reference. If it were stealth and disorientation, I would have said ninja. Same for pirate with sword fighting and rum consumption. Of course, I mentioned the powers themselves after to clarify which ones I meant (since there are so many variations on the vamp theme in the media these days)."

Listening to the Judy again, Nosferatu leans back slightly while crossing his arms.

"Hmm. I feel a little caught out that you asked for our powers, but were unwilling to reveal your own. I guess we are a bit more public with them, as you mentioned, but keep in mind that you and Kid Zeus are the only people on the planet who know about my ability to detect other mutates. I felt I could trust others people in a similar situation that far."

Nosferatu pauses for a second, then with a slight effort breathes out a sigh, and unfolds his arms, leaning them openly on the table once again.

"But while I don't agree with it, I do understand. If our roles were reversed, I would still be seeking out others and sharing our knowledge, but I can see how one might want to remain as apart as possible. So, until you feel the sudden urge to tell someone about what happened and get it off your chest, I can respect your silence in the powers department."

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Ah, the question of the day," Dark says. Despite the fact that he just cought fire and is still glowing, Dark seems perfectly relaxed.

"Well, two basic hypotheses with various sub-hypotheses. A - some mysterious chemical was responsible for the explosion. A-one, that chemical reacted with the other chemicals stored with it to produce effects which are random but consistent - by which I mean everyone who was hit with chemicals X Y and Z will turn into Mutant P. With me so far?"

"A-two, that chemical is physiologically- or psycho-active and reacts with the individual. Perhaps there is some latent genetic quality being activated - that's not really my field though. All of this only seems unlikely; but in fact most drugs have differing reactions - which is why the list of side effects on prescription medicine is often lengthy. This means that chemical X in the same quantities can create Mutants P Q and R".

"B is our catchall hypothesis and states that the chemical explosion was a coincidence and that powers are derrived, in whole or in part, from another source. This is currently pure speculation, but until it is possible to verifiably create another mutant under a process that fits a previous hypothesis, then we must continue to consider this".

"None of these hypotheses, it should be noted, can exclude the possibility of pre-exiting mutants".

"As to the process - the progression of mutation - again, speculation. It would appear that there is ongoing development, but of a lesser magnitude. You, for example, are unlikely to change from your current form into a being with powers themed around, for example, a duck or an armchair. It's not impossible, of course, but it appears at present to be extremely unlikely. However, you might yet lose all human characteristics and abilities. You could mutate into a quadruped, lose the power of speach and so forth".

"Continuous change, however, is unsustainable and even more unlikely. That you would then sprout wings or develop the power to start fires with your mind does not seem in keeping with the nature of your mutation. All that said, I could not begin to say what would happen if you experienced a second exposure to whatever caused your initial mutation. This would depend strongly on which hypothesis is true".

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper listens closely to Dark's hypotheses, then adds, "I am inclined to believe that the powers are somehow psychoactive, rather than caused by slight variations in chemical absorbtion. While I have lost most of my memories, I believe that I was some form of hired killer in my previous life. My powers seem particularly tailored to that lifestyle: the claws, the shadow powers, the fear powers, it all seems based off of that consistent theme. It seems riduculously unlikely that that happened by chance."

The Reaper pauses for a moment, then comes to a decision. He says, "I have a favor to ask of you, Professor Dark. You are highly intelligent, whether through natural talent or mutation. If anyone could solve this mystery, it would be you. I want to know my name. I want to know who I was. My mind is leaking memories like a broken hourglass. I have lost almost every memory I had from before the explosion. I want the chance to confront who I was, so that I can move on with my life. I ask you to help me in this."

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

Jason watched, eyes wide, as the creature does its theatrics and turns to strike. He felt his mind surge as his brain processed the creature's fickle footing and artsy movements in the air, studying the balance of the land and the swing. He pushed himself back a step and bended his torso back, the swift attack coming close enough to feel the soft off-breeze. :smallsmile: didn't hit me
Also I just took the Unbalanced Opponent feat (unlogical but still) with my level. Probably should've mentioned it

Ok, let's continue this. I'll conclude this round as if I hadn't leveled yet, since we both took actions that weren't modified by our new levels changes. That is, assuming that the AC you used vs. my last attack was your lev. 5 AC, modified only by our tactics roll.
Regardless, next round, all things gained through leveling will apply ok?

Oblivions obsidian eyes narrowed ever so slightly in suprise and distrust as his prey managed to evade his attack by mere inches.

More agile than it first appeared...

Tilting his head to the side, he looked at the it and growled, "You really have no idea why I pursued you here do you? What a pity...what a supreme waste", the echo in his voice now posessed of a strange liquid quality.

He could feel the strange energy within it as he observed his devious prey, and at that moment, realized that there was a connection between it's and his own. Only now, as he fully embraced what he had become, had it become clear. This...feeling...this hunger. I've felt before. This is what it was, this is what it meant... The ethreal tendrils that criss crossed his flesh writhed.

Using only his enhanced senses, he felt the catwalk above, and made a blind jump backwards, tumbling through the air.

((Power Activation))

((Assuming he makes the jump))

Landing in a crouch upon it's railing and affording himself some leeway to consider this new revelation, he simultaneously observed his prey's reaction to the new situation closely.


((Gnome)): I realized that if I was to make two attacks, I would have had to roll with a lower bonus on my last attack, so I'm just finishing my action with this post.
It's your turn again, both of us now using full stats for our new respective levels

[Thrall_Of_Ao]

((Because I guess previewing posts with rolls in them spoils said rolls))

Jump check: [roll0] not sure of the DC, but it can't be much higher than 20. Balance check [roll1] just in case

[Gnomish Wanderer]

Jason took a short step back as the thing did another flip, this time upward. How is he doing that? Eyes wide, Jason stepped back slowly. He stopped short and the edge of the alley, sensing the various activity behind him as to not get trampled by any busy-bodies. "Just.. Just tell me why you did chase me then... We can stop this and talk..."I'm just going to move back and use Diplomacy [roll0] to try and calm things down
Edit: Ouch...

[dfpiii]

Professor Dark aka Paragon

"Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves...
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow".

Dark sings with a wistful, faraway air and then refocuses back on the room and Reaper.

"I possess, quite possibly, the most brilliant mind of any man ever born. And most of the time I still have absolutely no idea what Bob Dylan's singing about. In fact, neither does he. But my point is that there are areas which, despite my natural talent, lie out with my skills. I am not a detective and that is quite surely what you need".

"We cannot locate you by physical features; likely we would encounter the same problems with DNA and blood type. You have no identification, otherwise you wouldn't need my help. You have no possessions that could be traced. You have, in effect, become entirely a different being. And all that you see is reflected in a glass, darkly".

"How would one even begin to find the origin of you?" Dark asks, though this question is as much for himself as Reaper. "Do you know how, in the physical sciences, we find something which is presently invisible? We look for its effect on other things. Astronomers locate planets by their effect on the movement of stars. So what have you orbited, Mr. Reaper? What stars have you affected?"

Dark stands from his chair and moves across the room, leaving a briefly glittering trail through the air. He sits down behind his desk and turns one computer. He proceeds through booting up and logging on.

"So you are a killer. Let us presume that you have killed before. That would mean you would have to be at least in your twenties or thirties - there are no teenage serial killers or assassins; it takes time to make what you were. But that also stands us in good stead, because it means you will leave a trail. Let's presume you were successful and were not apprehended for your crimes - otherwise you'd be in prison. So let's say you've been active for a decade".

The computer beeps and Dark opens up a blank command window on the screen and types at an impressive speed, while explaining.

"I can design a search algorithm which will filter all murders, internationally, for the last ten years, that were caused by bladed implements. I'll put in a bias towards unsolved murders and murders where no weapon was found at the scene - if you were an assassin or a serial killer, you probably worked with something you were intimately familiar with. From that let's bias it in favour of crimes committed at night. And then crimes committed against wealthy people - so we can rule out 95% of the world's population there; they aren't worth the attention of a paid assassin. That one I will split in two. If you were an assassin you'd be after the wealthy, if you were a simple killer you'd probably be after women and income wouldn't be a factor. Logical bias, not exclusion".

"Now, in both cases we'll mix the MO around. If you did anything distinctive you'd have been in the newspapers - the police are actually quite good at noticing similarities. MIT worked with the FBI and NSA back in the 80s on developing complex algorithms for precisely that reason and development has never stopped. Let's give you credit and presume you were smart enough to not leave a calling card, or DNA, but not smart enough to completely change what you did every time. And finally we'll reduce bias on cases with logistical difficulties. So it's unlikely you'd kill someone in New York on Tuesday, then someone in Cairo on Wednesday".

"And finally, I'll wrap this all up in a... standard... interface," he concludes, with a final thump of the carriage return. He puts a memory stick into his computer and downloads the file to it then tosses it over the desk to Reaper.

"Now, that little program will gather all of the information we need. All you need to do is plug it into a computer and press run. It should take about ten minutes to perform the full search, then it will store the information on itself. You need to bring it back to me after that and I'll see what we've got. If we're lucky we'll get security camera stills, if not, we'll need to match these events against passport records and see what we come up with there".

"The problem is, in order to use this algorithm you'll need to have authorised access to the FBI and Interpol databases. They record searches and remotely hacking them is both difficult, illegal and thus risky. You'll need to get someone to give you that access. But how you go about that is really none of my business".

Okay, can't seem to get the roller to work - just going to take a 10 for a 27 on the use computer skill check. Hopefully that will be enough.

[Tar Palantir]

The Reaper

The Reaper listens to Dark's deductions, then adds the scant information he has. "I have a few dim recollections, and some conclusions I've pieced together from what I've noticed of myself. I can remember faces of who I've killed, but no names. That doesn't help much, but it does give me a number. 472 kills, 430 from before the mutation. The first was when I was very young, ten or twelve, the exact age eludes me. The first few dozen kills were random, senseless; later on, they begin to take shape, many people who appear at least moderately wealthy; so I believe I was a serial killer who later became a hired killer. Also, I know for certain that I never used a firearm of any type. Even now I can barely stand to look at them. And lastly, I am relatively sure that most of the murders were in the general Rainport area, or at most a few states away. Even with no conscious memories, I know every back alley of this city like one who has stalked it their entire life. I am certain that that can help narrow it down further. Also, while this is probably not your area of expertise, do you know anyone in Rainport who might have hired me? If I killed more than four hundred people without being caught, I must have been good, and therefore expensive. There can't be many people in this city with both the money, the need, and the desire to hire such an assassin."

"As for breaking into the FBI database, I'm sure I can find someone willing and able to do it. Your assistance in this matter is most appreciated."


I'm assuming that I'm talking while you're typing, so you add in the information I give you.