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"A what?" Carmen would respond, thinking that his mother was some sort of monster creature or something and that he had for a moment descended from one. Was her boyfriend in fact partially some sort of bug creature, waiting to devour her and her fellow students. That was foolish of course and quickly she threw such a thought out as he squeezed her hand softly. It didn't matter whom he was or what she was as Carmen saw him as her Michael, and he couldn't be more perfect in any other way for her as she attempted to push forward, closing her eyes and steeling her nerves for a kiss as she pushed herself up to meet him. He was taller than Carmen, pushing up on her tip toes to meet his lips. Then, without any warning trouble appeared as a tiny man appeared from out of Michaels backpack to interrupt the two of them, "¡Qué mierda!" she lets out as this breaks any sort of attempt she was trying to make, now rather annoyed. "What's the big deal?" she says, a bit of venom as she her catlike eyes narrowed down on this creature. It looked cartoonish in nature. Strangely proportioned and small. It wasn't natural and only meant for the two of them that they had walked right into more trouble.

O' creepy ;D

Bonus points if you get the reference.

It is not actual a dog creature, just called a Hound. It gets a 23 on its toughness save (vs the DC 28), so is bruised and dazed and knocked down.

Ok then. In retaliation, Puma will go for the dog creature that tried to keep her bound and slash it with her claws in retaliation. I roll 27, which is a critical hit.

Shooting Star Alice soared on a ballistic trajectory across the city, tearing through the sound barrier as soon as she achieved enough height to avoid doing damage from the sonic boom. The journey took mere seconds, the wind roaring in her ears as her descent began. She stopped in an instant about three feet from the ground to catch her bearings and identify the situation. It didn't take long to home in on the sounds of gunfire, arriving at the location of the battle at about the same time as Bloody Mess and Blackstaff. She looked down at the chaos unfolding before her, trying to identify both sides of the fight.

Torpedo Lass II Mizuki was wishing she could fly... although she'd been getting odd sensations doing her jumps lately. "Yeah, sounds like a plan. Just watch out, in the water I can outrace an F1 car, particularly on a straightaway. To make it fair I'll stay on the surface. Been practicing keeping speed while surfaced." She turned to Vueriz walking over to her board. "Although I gotta hitch a ride over to the starting spot."

Torpedo Lass II Mizuki walked into the arcade... wearing her favorite sailor collared shirt with jeans, sneakers, and a bomber jacket with various aviation patches. Seeing a lot of the custom arcade cabinets alongside the manufactured ones gave her a grin. But it was the flight simulator set up in the corner that caught her attention... as it was running Ace Combat: Emerald Skies... the first of the series based on real events, including a certain test pilot sucked into intrigue and danger. Mizuki wasn't interested in playing the story mode though, she already had a save file and had beat the game... she was hunting different prey online. After signing in for an hour time, and plopping down some cash without Michael knowing she sat down. Noticing there was a second seat and screen set up recently. Seems finding the consoles needed was getting easier for the arcade's management. She booted up and loaded her save and started searching lobbies. She didn't want to get noticed yet... there was a certain player she was hunting for.

I need to look this over a moment. If we're starting at the river this could get interesting.

sure sure! Drive Results 1d20+6: 11 [1d20=5] pretty bad drive result. Medicine Results 1d20+10: 25 [1d20=15] Really good Medicine!

Dwayne Devon Davidson had been asleep. He was on call, but the correct thing to do whenever you're working on the shift is to catch some sleep when you can. But no EMT sleeps through alarms either. When the station started blaring, his eyes snapped open. The dispatcher's voice rang through the bunk. Monorail crash. Injuries. Serious. Pants, boots, shirt buttoned. He was ready in a few seconds, stomping his boots as he ran towards the ambulance. "Let's go let's go let's go!" He clapped his hands quickly, getting his partner up and at them as they ran towards the ambulance. They were out of the station before the trucks were, as fast as could be; sirens blaring as they cut down the streets, with careful, effective speed. He was calm under pressure, but he had practiced this, and he was ready; he'd had plenty of emergencies before, after all. He navigated the heavy ambulance with speed as they headed to the site in question. Once the ambulance arrived, it was time for triage. They tagged who they could, and worked with the firemen to help anyone who was severely injured but still capable of saving. This was his job, his serious, non-heroism job, and he had far more experience at that.

(GM Post) As the two Claremont students were discussing the future and their ongoing existence, something strange was happening all across the library. It started with ruffling books. In the library it started in the middle of the exhibit. Old pages under glass cases fluttering in the wind that didn't exist in the middle of the library. Mumbling and wind started. Then the effect started to spread. Rustling through the library, then out into the wild. From inside of Michael's bookbag, something popped the zipper from the inside out. A burly looking man crawled out, only the size of a man's palm, but looking as rough as a trip down the Mississippi and back, a rough beard, an oarsman's tattered outfit. He scrambled out of the backpack and let out a woop, swinging his pint sized arms too and fro. "Lookie here, ya galoots, I'm Mike Fink, and if you're wanting a brawl, I'm the boy for it." Across the rest of the stairs, similar things were acting up; pint-sized versions of the pictures in books harassing the people that had borrowed the books in question. A tiny John Henry, a minuscule Paul Bunyan, a petite Davey Crockett and more.

(Golden Star Post) "No, Protestant only. Mom's family has been W.A.S.P.s for as far as they go. But I still go every weekend with Mom. So it's not like I'm not keeping up with my faith." he said as he closed his eyes. "So it'll be interesting to see the differences at least; maybe I'll think Martin Luther is full of crap or something." he laughed. He squeezed her hand tighter and enjoyed the soft feeling of her fur. He was enjoying it, and enjoying spending time with her. He liked Carmen for the effort she put into things. He didn't have to expend much effort in a lot of ways that other people did; he got to skate by on being the right gender and the right race and having a pretty face. He always kept himself aware of that, but it wasn't something he talked about to people either. He had conflicting feelings. "You're not going to college? I guess that's fair...the Patriot could probably get you a good Government Job, a lot of those have nice pensions too. If you do end up wanting it or needing it, I'll help you work on any applications or the like you need...I don't actually know what paperwork comes with that transition though, I'd have to do some research on it." He said. It wasn't something that seemed like he had an issue with it, just something he didn't know about at that point.

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!