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Dwayne Devon responding to emergency! And more? Drive and Medical rolls will no doubt be in order here

GM May 19th Near Midnight... The clock was but five minutes from the middle of the night. In this part of the city, there never was any total sleep. Cars still drove, lights still shone, drunkards still drank. Even at the weekend. And the monorail still circled round Downtown, slick, smooth, effective. A testemant and a salute to the hope that technology brings. Until it goes wrong. Disaster! With an almight creak, with a shower of sparks, the rail cracked, tore asunder, and sent a wailing carriage to the ground, sliding across the tarmac and crunching into a building. There was smoke, there was fire, there was panic. And there was, of course, a call for all emergencies services! It looked like they would be needed....

Blackstaff Blackstaff stood over the unconscious form of the sorcerer Batita. Ice was slowly melting all around the back alley not far from the railyard both had been heading towards. It seemed he wasn’t alone in having heard the rumors. The Octavo. A unique grimoire said to contain 8 of the most powerful spells ever recorded. It was a myth, of course. No one had any proof they had ever actually laid eyes on it. But it didn't stop the young and/or foolish from seeking it out. This time someone had started a rumor that it was among a shipment of items bound for the Natural History Museum being unloaded tonight. Blackstaff shook out his shield bracelet, flecks of ice raining off his coat as he did. A staff of old blackened wood with runic carvings oddly held not a single trace of ice or water upon it. Turning towards the alley’s entrance he walked casually towards the rail yard again. He hadn’t gotten much further before a distance ruckus erupted from the direction of the yard. Sounds like explosions and gunfire never amounted to anything good in this city… or any other city he supposed. He cursed and began to run.

alright, new enemy has joined the fray; Hotshot. Initiative Results 1d20+3: 10 [1d20=7] I'm not clear if Neko gets a HP for him being able to see through her Illusion due to the battlesuit. If it needs to be so, she can have the HP. @Avenger Assembled's turn! Round 2 Neko: 28, 1HP Kazra: 26,1x Bruised Timeout: 21, 4HP Esquire: 21, 1x Bruise, Everyone has Total Concealment from him. Drones: 13, 5 of them Hotshot: 10 Daniel: 4, Bruise Iris: 4 2HP

(GM Post) The Hunter was a willy one indeed, and he fought of the Telekinesis even though he couldn't tell where the group was coming from. "Oh no you don't, I'm not getting caught with such a novice move, my good opponents." he called in threat. Then the drone Iris threw hit him straight in the face and exploded, and he stumbled back a few steps, holding his broken nose. "How dare you! You should know better than to beat up your elders! I say, are all you people in this world so rude and uncultured!?" he yelled. "I will not be standing for this, I assure you." "Boss, I'm coming in now." spoke a voice on a loudspeaker above "About time! Any longer and I'd have to cut your pay." the man responded. What descended was less a person and more a mobile fireball with a suit of armor inside of it. Some sort of robotic battlesuit, definitely, but with a distinct firey theme; white and blue. It was encased in a burning orange and red aura and spewing flames from the feet as it pulled in. "I can't see them, Hotshot!" called the man. "These damnable cats are impossible to hear or see over!" "Relax....I can see them clear as day right here." Hotshot responded. "I'm gonna take them out." And coming ever closer was the sound of roaring; something big and heavy was making it's way towards the group.

I'll try this again! Strength Check Results 1d20+15: 17 [1d20=2] RIP

"Ah! Hey!" Michael yelled in surprise as the blasts hit Iris head on and she went down. He turned his attention back to the tower and growled, glowing ever brighter as he shoved against it. "YOU! STOP! THAT! NOW!" he roared at General Sparks, strength filling his arms as he tried to shove the entire tower over. He turned around and flew away, soaring up and away several thousand feet. Then he turned back around and charged at the weakened section of the tower, going so fast the corona of light around him warped into a trailing bubble of red/gold light as he got faster and faster before he smashed directly into the tower at full speed!

GM The "Private" tumbled through the air. They were not far from the ground now, not far from the ice and snow of Alaska. Predator could see the runway up ahead, lights blinking. It was early morning, but at this time of year, at this lattitude, that meant only a smudge of light above pitch black. The northern lights were still up. Looking down, Predator could see - with infravision - the private getting hotter and hotter as he fell. Just before he hit the ice, he was raging hot, maybe fifty or sixty degrees. Far beyond human capabilities. And then... BOOM! The private exploded in that same shower of over charged fleshiness that "Dr North" had. Meanwhile, the pilotless plane was wobbling in the cross currents. It would not have been an easy landing at the best of times. And without a pilot... this was going to turn into a crash. One the one hand, the snow provided some buffering. On the other, ice wouldn't help with the traction...

Bloody Mess The sound was enough to draw attention. Freddy ripped off his jacket, revealing a red t-shirt and the black "M" insignia. Bloody Mess, back in business. He reached down (metaphorically) to his gut, and supercharged his mutant blood. Muscles swelled to the size of giant watermelons, stretching his t shirt, pulsating his veins. And then, with mighty pumped up legs, he shot into the air in a huge leap. Gunfire wasn't good. Not da kind of thing a superhero could ignore. And this sounded like a lotta gunfire. He landed on an old train in the yard, crushing the roof into a crater sized dent, one hand on the steel to balance. It was a proper super-hero landing, and no mistake. He was lucky - had the train carriage been any more rusty, Bloody Mess would have gone straight through da roof. He scanned the streets, the rail track, looking for da source of da action. He had ta make sure he wasn't going ta punch da wrong guy, after all....

Awesome. Since you suggested it, I’ll use Blackstaff.

Paper Leon was focused on the building as Luke returned from his sweep of the building’s perimeter. “I get the sense of two people. One packin some serious cash I think.” He looked up at Luke and grinned. Sue had become a fast favorite of his. He glanced at the entry points Luke pointed out and thought for a moment. “Hmm. We could try a two-prong approach.” He suggested. “I’ll take the door and you take the hole? If they are expecting us, they’ll have to split their attention. Then it’s just a couple of 1v1s.”

Thanks, KK!

@Spacefurry @Supercape OOC for this

GM Sunday 19th May 8pm Union Rail Yards Greenville The day had been been quiet, a train arriving around midday to offload cargo, some historic items bound for the Hunter Museum of Natural History being locked securely in a safe in the primary warehouse. As the sun descended however the quiet was suddenly disrupted, the armoured form of the villain Steel Shade and his team smashing through the wall next to the safe, before the rest of his team got to work. Within minutes they were ready to depart, the teleportation device they'd made use of many times prior about to activate when a stone flechette tore through the delicate device, and a tide of small green creatures burst from the walls. The combat quickly became a fighting retreat, leading deeper into the train yard. Gunshots and yells ring out across the evening air as the groups engage in their battle. For the first time in quite a while the heroes have time to respond to this latest robbery.

Cerebral and Cerebellum The twins seemed to act as if they were one person. Daniel would reach out his hand and try to hold the Hunter with his Telekinesis, however he was not able to get a good hold on the man since his will was a bit too strong. At the same time, Iris held out her own hand and gripped a drone with her powers and looked over at Daniel. "I couldn't hold him." The young man spoke to his sister telepathically. "Throw it anyway." Iris nodded with a look of concentration as she pulled her hand back and thrust it forward like one would throw a shot put. The drone, with extremely feint purple energy outlining it, pulled itself back before launching foreward as if an invisible hand had thrown it. The machine when flyin and hit the Hunter before BOOM! it exploded!

That is fine with me, so she gets free.

Alright, that's a crit! So I'm treating this as a TK attack on both the Drone and Esquire; this means the DC is 15 + Power Rank + 5, which is 28. Toughness Results 1d20+8: 20 [1d20=12] The drone Explodes! Toughness Results 1d20+5: 24 [1d20=19] Esquire rolls very well however, he only takes a bruise! Round 1 Neko: 28, 1HP Kazra: 26,1x Bruised Timeout: 21, 4HP Esquire: 21, 1x Bruise, Everyone has Total Concealment from him. Drones: 13, 5 of them Daniel: 4, Bruise Iris: 4 2HP once Draco does their IC post, an ally will be joining on Esquire's side and then it will be Neko's turn.

17 on the Grapple so doesn't beat it, still fighting this psychic attack. Realized by rules I can do an Escape Artist check which is higher but will go with what I rolled for now Thev unless it's okay to substitute the modifier, which is just +2 more and would free her. Up to you.

Iris throws the drone for: 28

Missed the response because I'm bad. Okay; so Esquire has Uncanny Dodge, BUT since this is the first round and this is basically you all surprising him suddenly, I'll let the sneak attack go through for this one but he'll be aware from now on. Grapple Roll Results 1d20+14: 30 [1d20=16] So Iris grapples and Throws it. In Comparison, on Daniel's roll; Grapple Roll Results 1d20+11: 31 [1d20=20] The guy gets a nat 20 and escapes. So Iris should now roll an Attack roll (Can't take 10 on it); if she hits, she's hit the guy with the drone. Otherwise she's just smashed the drone into the tree he's hiding behind

Predator The soldier slipped through her grip and forced his way into the cockpit. In an instant he had incapacitated both pilots. Predator cursed behind her helmet and made a split second decision. The soldier was bent over the controls, thrashing at buttons and switches, and she tensed. She exhaled and like a coiled spring, the armored hero sprung in blur. She had every intention to carry them both straight out through the front windshield. The full weight of the armored hero collides with the suped-up soldier. Slamming into him and driving them both out through the window in a rain of glass, most of the debris blowing back into the plane from the sheer force of wind. The two tumbling across the nose of the plane and out into the open air. Predator let him go with a shove, watching as he plummeted away. Leaving the potential biological weapon to gravity’s unkind mercy.

GM The remaining large mecha saw both Sovereign and a Justicar fall in short order. Rather than focus on the Terran heroine before it, who was mainly acting on the defensive, the mecha decided it needed to try to deal with one of the more serious threats. Moving away from Fleur, the large mecha closed with Paradigm, bringing its plasma bladed down at the Praetorian in a wide swing. However, the Naram paragon was easily able to side-step the attack, the blade cutting into the pavement next to her instead. A short distance away, the remaining Justicar climbed back to his feet, taking a moment to glance about. He then leveled his weapon at the held La Puma Negra, firing a blast of energy at the teen, hoping to remove her from the fight. But Star Khan stepped back into the path of the attack, raising one gauntleted hand to deflect the blast away.

Okay, going to stop picking on Fleur (as E is too busy) and the Hunter will move over to attack Paradigm (it is one of the few things with an attack that can hurt her now). It badly misses. This brings up: ROUND FIVE 26 Justicar Wryy (bruised, prone) 22 Fleur de Joie 3 HP (bruised) 22 La Puma Negra 1 HP (bruised, bound and helpless) 20 Paradigm 2 HP (bruised, weakened -1 all stats rnd 1) 19 Star-Khan (fatigued) 18 Boran Lieutenants (x2, one facing Predator bruised 2, staggered; 1 on Paradigm/Golden Star) 13 Predator HP (bruised 2) 10 Tough Aliens (x2, one on Fleur, one on Predator) 10 Troopers (two groups: 20 to the left and 20 to the right) 9 Hounds (1 telekinetic on right, one telepath on left bruised) 8 Golden Star 0 HP (bruised 2) 6 Hunters (x1 in melee with Paradigm) The remaining Justicar will get to his feet and try to blast La Puma, Star Khan will interpose: misses Star Khan. To keep us moving, I will say Fleur deal with the minion alien on her, that brings up @MoonSimply La Puma. She can use a move action to try to get free from the grapple. The hound only gets a 17 on its grapple check.

The "Soldier" cannot beat that, so out of the plane you both go, tumbling through the air! And the soldier cant fly!

Snakebite In Finding your teeth On the fifth day, the fever broke. Those days had been full of sweat and delirium, dreams of jungles and strange night skies full of unfamiliar stars. Several times, the doctors and nurses had been fearful for Cassandra Crow’s life as they struggled to keep her temperature up, or temperature down. The Crow family could afford for the best of care, although their relationships were not always pleasant. It had not gone unnoticed that a few choice members had been hovering around Cassandra’s bed with a glint of glee, hoping that some of the Crow’s byzantine inheritance laws my bless them upon her passing. A month ago, Cassandra Crow had been deep in Amazonian Jungle, exploring the unexplored. She had located a golden snake head, about the size of a fist, with glittering emerald eyes and a malign serpents grin. Worth a fortune, to be sure, but it was glory not dollars that motivated Cassandra Crow. Caressing her prize, she heard a click… and two golden fangs stabbed into her hand. If it was simply a matter of a few scars on the back of her hand, there the story would have ended. But each fang contained a shot of ancient and Eldritch poison. Her temperature rose, her tongue coarsened and swelled. Her eyes darkened and pierced the dark. The poison was crawling around her arteries, into her muscles and skin, changing her. And quite possibly killing her. To get back to the Amazonian river boat was a feat of endurance that she would have, a day before, considered impossible, beyond human flesh. Lying in the boat, convulsing, shaking, was an agony she would rather forget. And then, descent into a coma, until she awoke five days ago in a Hospital in London. And now, the fever had broke. She could sit on her bed, she could even walk, clutching onto her IV drip strand like a crutch. Sleep – yes, sleep. She could sleep twenty hours a day and still feel tired. But no longer was her temperature spiking. No more mysterious cold fevers. It was, as the doctors said, as if her blood could not decide whether she was hot blooded or cold blooded. All in all, she was a mystery. Her blood tests, only now resolving, were impossible to understand, and should have killed her. The ascribed her ongoing life to Ms. Crow’s remarkable fitness, what with her being an explorer used to climbing, hiking, and swimming through the harshest of Earth’s terrains. Maybe that was true, but Cassandra Crow suspected other forces were at play. The Crow family were as wealthy as you could be, thanks to good fortune. But fortune was a fickle and two sided beast. Curses, Hex’s, supernatural bad luck – these too came with the Crow Raven Hair and Crow hooked nose. The Golden Snake Head had sensed something in her, it had smelled the Crow blood, and it had attacked! “Uuurgh….” It was a groan of livid arteries, of pounding head. Pain that morphine had muffled but not removed. Her mother and sister were at the bedside. Caring, in that Crow way. Obscured, mysterious, even narcissistic caring, but caring all the same. And Cassandra would rather have them there than some of the more obnoxious and machevellian characters in the more distant part of the family. “How long?” she asked. “Too long…” said her mother, he black crow hair tied, harshly, to the back of her head. “We feared the worst, you rapscallion! Although… I would not have my daughters any other way. You get poisoned, your sister falls of mountains. Tsk! Better a day a lion, eh?” “Or a snake…” muttered Cassandra. There followed more days in hospital, more mysterious medicine. And then a trip to the Crow family manor once she was healthy enough. In some ways, the doctors told her, she was suspiciously too healthy. They were not wrong. A couple more weeks, and Cassandra was riding, swimming and running through the grounds of the Manor. She was always athletic, her long limbs used to the strain of hiking and exploring. But now she rode harder, she swam faster, and she ran for longer than ever before. Her strength was beyond her frame – tight, hot muscles able to lift a motorcycle above her head (yes, she tried). And speed, yes – faster than before, able to balance and leap like a cat competing for the cat Olympics in agility. Cassandra could feel her body writhe, stretch and bend like rubber. Like a cat. Like a snake. And then, there were the teeth. They manifested – with an sharp electrical pain – when Cassandra was running through the nearby woods and was startled by an irritable fox. No threat, neither before her transformation or, much less so, after it, but enough to cause that little flux of adrenaline. Her canines elongates – subtle, maybe half an inch or most, but quite the shock nonetheless. And the bitter taste of poison at their tips. What was she? The answer surely lay in books. And the Crow family had plenty of dusty tomes in the library. Books of history, archeology, certainly. And darker, eldritch, arcane tomes of pre-history and mythology. Books documenting – in crazed words – the worlds of Atlantis, Lemuria, the lost world. And even, in some particularly hushed and warped words, of the yellow sign. But even these were not enough. Cassandra turned to the British library, pulling strings to get the most obscure and forbidden texts. She spent her days away from sunshine, in the depths of the library, in a private and dusty reading room, poring over yellow paper. At least, it was usually paper. Sometimes it was hide. Sometimes it was skin. There it was: Lodged between a scrawled (in blood?) ramble on the sixty six dimensions of the silver chair, and an alleged spell to bind the third eyes of the unspeakable one. A note on the golden skull of Lemuria, its poison deadly to all but those with snake blood. A ritualistic device to prove one was a true snake person. And Cassandra Crow had survived the bite. Survived the poison. It made her blood run as cold as a lizards. Her sweat felt icy, her tongue felt bloated. Something was very wrong with the Crow family line. Something… inhuman. Somehow, they were not mere homo sapien, but something else. Maybe not material, maybe not genetic. But somehow, in aeons past, the Crow family had taken something of the Lemurian people. Perhaps this explained their strange fortunes, their mystic eyes, the family legacy littered with witches, shamans, sorcerers and oracles. Cassandra Crow was a snake? Then so be it. An enigmatic and twisted smile creased the corner of her lips. There was more work to be done. As Snakebite.