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((Because Gordon's house is going to be like the Magic Box. The center of all super-heroic decisions))
2212 Baker's Lane
The place is somewhat of a paradox. Packed up boxes everywhere, clearly labeled, mingled with the clutter that can only come from having a teenager in the house. Upon further looking at some of the boxes, the reason why they have yet to be unpacked is simple. They used to be Gordon's late wife's. The man can't bear to have them unpacked. Or put in storage.
Hagen does not particularly want to be on the second floor of a building if he's expecting an attack. He'd much rather have exits close to the safe, safe ground.
"Hope you don't mind me bossing you around in your own home, Gordon, but you mind coming down here? Or do you have enough insurance to cover a gal with a bum leg should she happen to fall down the stairs..."
The Lieutenant heads down the stairs. He isn't a particularly tall man, about average height. His hair's gone gray prematurely, and his concerns about fashion are distinctly not modern. Moustache, vintage horn-rimmed glasses, and a trenchcoat. His tie hangs loosely from his hands; the top two buttons of his wrinkled shirt are unfastened.
Hagen notices something off with his tie before the Lieutenant hurriedly hides it behind his back. The knot...then it clicks. It's a half-formed noose.
"'course I got em," pulling the fake samples from her coat and holding them out. Hagen made sure to stand close enough to a window to let anyone outside see what was going on. "Make sure this gets handled right. Went through a lot of trouble to get this, and Loeb certainly doesn't appreciate it."
A thought occurred to him.
"Oh, by the way... do you trust Montoya?"
Since Gordon's Sense Motive is probably on par with Hagen's bluff, I'm going to roll his Bluff and Hero point reroll it if its too low, say below 12, and take whichever is higher (with the HP reroll never being less than 10). Do I get any circumstance bonuses to my Bluff for being believable/impersonating Walker?
"Are you coming down with a cold, Detective. Because..."
Katherine sees it far too late. A black car, a big SUV, speeding down Gordon's street. One of the tinted windows opens, and something flies from out of it, crashing through the window.
Her brain catches up to her too late, recognizing the object only too late. A Glass bottle, with a rag stuffed down its neck. A Molotov Cocktail. Close to untraceable, and the fire would get rid of evidence. How practical.
It lands just past Gordon, spilling over a box labeled "Photos." The fire roars and quickly spreads, surging from ceiling to floor in a matter of seconds.
"My god. Barbara!"
Gordon tries to head up the stairs, tries to save his daughter. Heads into the flames.
Couldn't find a good description of a fire in the Book, so here's mine.
Fatigue 4(Airborne toxins)
Intense Heat(Fort Saves for "edge of volcano" heat: 1/minute)
roll a d2 every round you move. If its a 2, you're on fire(Blast 2 every round, standard action + DC 15 to negate. See Ignite power for details))
Walker is sulking back into one of the poorer neighborhoods when he sees the smoke and fire. There's work to be done.
Punks… Just an amateur would have a Molotov cocktail do a man’s job. Cowards. In his days, if he wanted someone dead, he’d have pulled the trigger himself, and then shoot at the policemen when they came after him. But then, that sort of thinking led him to the morgue. Rushing out of cover, Luigi moves to the roof of Gordon’s house, and tries to find some emergency ladder or some way in.
[roll]1d20+15[/roll] notice any details about that van.
Katherine tries to catch the details of the van - number, make, driver, anything - before she notices the small bottle and the boom of fire. She is about to ignore the ruse and leave Gordon and Hagen to themselves when she remembered that that damnfool commissioner had his kid in his house.
Cursing, the cop changed direction and headed for the house, little jabs of pain biting into her left leg with every other step. Snarling, she lifted her gun into the air and fired off three shots, one after the other - hopefully enough to wake the street, or at least draw some attention.
Close to the house now, and expecting another shot any second, Katherine pauses to grab a piece of fabric from her pocket and tie it around her mouth. Hopefully the movies were right about how effective this could be.
Last edited by DeafnotDumb : 10-28-2010 at 03:30 PM.
He starts running towards the source of the smoke; some of his flock might be endanger, and Walker helped his flock, no matter the circumstance; he was their protector, their saint. He would give them vengeance, and protection, as God had ordered him.
Doliest's crimes against good taste
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
The Smiler knows what he's doing. He's removed the plates from the car, and there are millions of the model he's using. Hell, it's the same van used for airport shuttles. The windows are tinted so darkly that it's impossible for anyone to see past them, either in or out; he must be using night-vision goggles to compensate. But then she sees it. As the van turns the corner, just before it leaves her sight, she sees a clue. A distinguishing feature. A bumper sticker. It's message was simple: The Police Never Think It's As Funny As You Do. Wonderful. The Smiler had a sense of humor. A very dry, ironic sense of humor.
The gunshots rouse the attention of the neighborhood, and Katherine can hear the sirens of campus police wail in the distance. A minute, maybe less until they show up. Maybe five until the fire brigade.
Out of the corner of her eye, Katherine can see someone leap from out of the shadows. A vague outline of a man, sprinting at the house. Something about him suggests he's armed. Something about him just screams "hitman." And Katherine's learned to trust her instincts.
Hagen weaves in and out of the flames, and either by luck or skill, manage to avoid the worst of it. He's covered in soot, and his face might be starting to slip, but he feels fine at the moment.
Gordon's frantically trying to open the door to his daughter's room, but the knob is scorching hot, and he can't touch it without reflexively snatching his hand away.
"I'm not leaving without my daughter, Detective! I can't lose her! I can't...I can't..."
He collapses, then, as his words and racing heart only hinder him in this oxygen-poor environment. Great. Now there are two people that need saving.
His sense of timing must be off; as he attempts to batter the door down, he lands squarely on a piece of burning tile; and that cane that his contacts so painstakingly procured lights up, the polished wood practically melting in his grip.
Congratulations. You are now on fire. Toughness Save DC 16 lethal damage each round in addition to the other rolls. Or a DC 15 Reflex Save, and a standard action to beat the flames off.
Katherine yells "Stop! Police!" at the hitman and then fires, because the prodecures have to be observed. This way, if the guy turned out to be harmless or innocent of this crime, she could always say she'd given him warning.
There's a moment of hesitation as she debates her chances in the burning house compared to fighting a trained hitman without surprise on her side, and then she turns and plunges into the flames.
She just hopes goddamn Gordon and his goddamn kid are okay.
Attack roll: (1d20+8)
Saves for fire (use them next round if they don't apply for this one):
Fire Probability: (1d2)
Fort save for Heat: [/roll]1d20+6[/roll]
Random other Saves if I need them:
Last edited by DeafnotDumb : 10-13-2010 at 10:48 AM.
Katherine is too preoccupied to notice whether or not the hitman went down. Either way, he'd be a problem for later. Because what sort of idiot would run into a burning building?
Oh, right. You would.
It's very odd, looking at Hagen as Katherine. Odd in that what would normally be something to do with vanity and curiousity has now become something like disgust and revulsion. The doppleganger is on fire, and where the flames lick at his(her?) exposed skin, thin rivets of a clay-like substance drip down instead of flesh. At least it doesn't smell like burnt flesh. It looks really disturbing though.
Hagen's managed to kick the door down, but Gordon's collapsed beside him. A rather petite thirteen year old dashes out of her room, frantically looking around at her surroundings. She spots her dad, and nearly bends down to try to get him up, before recognizing the two other people.
"You have to get my dad out of here! Help!"
In the distance, sirens are coming, drawn by the gunfire and smoke. But the minutes it will take them to arrive will be far too late as long as you stay inside.
The house is hot and cramped and confusing: Katherine can see cardboard boxes stacked everywhere, some scattered across the floor by the recent disturbances. And there's herself, on fire and dripping... something onto the floor, like some slowly melting waxwork. It's just to strange and odd to really care about now, but she hopes that the image won't come up again when she's trying to eat dinner.
Katherine collects herself before the teenager comes running out of her room and asks for help, giving Katherine time to be impressed with her gumpton: it looks like Gordon gave something to his kids, after all.
It's a choice between helping Gordon or the kid, but right now that's easy: she needs the luiteniant and Hagan can take care of the little girl. Probably. "Hagan! Get the girl!" She barks. "and change!" She really doesn't want to try and explain why there's two of her when the police come.
Ignoring her leg, Katherine grunts as she reaches down and tries to lift Gordon up on her shoulders before making her way out.
If there wasn't a way out, then she was goddamn going to make one.
Luigi decides the standard approach, walking through the main door. He jumps down to the street and hurries into the flaming building.
Scanning the place for a second before spotting the stairs, Luigy darts up, to find what he was expecting. The one who shot at him and her copy, now melting away by the heat. Luigi was confused, he thought this odd pair were planing something nasty, but at least not as nasty as this fire. Lots of things rushed in his mind, but the former gangster shakes them off and concentrated on what was important now, saving this Gordon guy and his daughter.
"Nice shot for a woman." he simply says to Katherine, as he kneels to pick Gordon up, not caring for the flames that catch his long coat.
Will use my posted acrobatics roll to land soflty on the floor, if that's OK.
Then move inside and try to move Gordon out.
Luigi is immune to suffocation and fatigue.
Keeping up the disguise was wearing Hagen thin; nothing would please him more then to let the facade fall - well, other than being home in his hot tub sipping a nice beaujolais. But who the hell was this new dude? He didn't want the exact nature of his abilities to be revealed just yet.
"This frickin' heat is melting my mask," Hagen says, making a show of flicking clay off his face. He adopts another, nondescript face, as if the Katherine facade were just a mask over this one.
Then to the newcomer, "I don't know who the hell you are, but we need to get out of here, now."
"I concur." Luigi simply says. It was better not to tell the man that he had been following them for a while now neither that he saw him morphing. "My name is..." ... "... Luigi." he says, deciding to start trusting in people. He looks at Katherine. "You are lucky I saw you and that you missed that shot, lady"
Toughness vs Flames: (1d20+8) DC for him should be 19 due to Fire Vuln.
Katherine tried to point her gun at 'Luigi', but considering that she was currently borne down with the weight of Gordon, she didn't look very intimidating and she knew it. "Hargen." She muttered. "Keep a gun on him, point it at his goddamn head and get the kid to follow us. You, walk in front of us and clear the way."
Katherine paused for a moment and looked at the calmly burning figure of the hitman. As ever when faced with certain threat and impossibility, she responded with sarcasm. "Oh, and you're on fire. You gonna do something about that or you gonna get moving?"
Saves for fire:
Fire Probability: (1d2)
Fort save for Heat: (1d20+4)
"That was close amici," says the Italian man, laying on his back, his coat half burned and his face partially blackened by the smoke. He incorporates, sitting on the pavement, suddenly "Did you check on the old man? Is he breathing?"