R. Bluefish

"Guy who owns the place isn't here," Lena said quickly as she darted into the room. "The cops get here, they stomp all over everything before shelving the case. Detectives in this city couldn't catch a cold, so the guy doesn't get found unless we find him." She paused just long enough to jab a finger in her brother's face. "And don't blame me - you were the one who called me here, man! You think I hang out in Stark Hill for my health?" She scanned the room quickly, her eyes resting momentarily on the security monitor, also noting the remaining jewelry. Wonder why they didn't take that too. "There's no way out back here. We just locked ourselves in a closet." She rushed over to examine the monitor, acutely aware of the impending danger. "If we can take this with us, we can look at it later. Cops won't like it, but..." she hesitated as something belatedly registered with her. "...wait. Was there somebody out there?" She pointed to the door Luthor had just slammed shut. "You just shut the door on some Robin Hood-looking chick."

"I don't like violence!" Echo protested. "I deplore violence!" She blurred once more, over to a shelf full of hockey equipment, and was back in a fraction of a second. A hockey stick was raised over her head, and the baseball cap had been replaced by a goalie's mask. She leaped, vaulting nimbly over Deadbolt's head, landing behind him once more to break the hockey stick in two across his back in a move that seemed to rather contradict her claim from a moment ago. I really hope they don't make me pay for these. "It's just that in my line of work, it's inevitable that you're going to have to hit some people. And you gotta love what you do, right?"

Echo will use her Quickness to grab another bat, then do another Acrobatic Bluff on Deadbolt (assuming that all works for you). She'll take 10 again, for another 32. Then she'll give him another whack of the bat, with 2 points of Power Attack once more. Echo's attack roll: 1d20+10 26. Should be the same damage as before.

Echo sighed. "Okay. Hard way it is, then." She lunged straight towards Deadbolt, swinging the bat around in an obvious arc - then at the last second, blurred around to attack from behind instead. Without hesitating, she brought the bat down hard on the top of his head, so hard that it snapped cleanly in half with a wince-inducing crack. "Insert baseball-related pun here." Tossing aside the splintered bat, she danced backwards, expecting a counterswing, but he seemed to be shaking the little birdies from his eyes after her blow. "You know I really don't want to do this, right? Contrary to all appearances, I actually don't like fighting that much." She thought for a moment. "Okay, that's a lie - but still, I don't want to fight you right now."

Okay - Echo will use her move action to open with an Acrobatic Bluff. She'll use Skill Mastery to take 10 on the check, so Deadbolt has to beat a 32 or lose his dodge bonus for this round. For her standard action, she will of course smack him with the bat, in the hopes that not actually touching him will protect her from his aura. She'll also throw in two points of Power Attack. Echo's attack roll: 1d20+10 25 That's +8 damage from her Strength, and I believe another +2 from the bat (her base melee attack bonus is only +12, so that should still be within caps). And another +2 from the Power Attack, so +12 damage, for a DC 27 Toughness save.

Echo's Initiative: 1d20+14 32

Echo held out the bat as he tried to move past her, blocking his path. "Hooold it right there, pal. Despite how it may appear, I was not born yesterday. You disguise, while admittedly cunning, ain't foolin' these peepers." It might fool Chris, but not me, no sir. She no longer had the luxury of avoiding ultimatums. Their battle was sure to attract Neutron's attention if it lasted much longer. "Last chance, Deadbolt. I'm on your side here, but if you keep doing this, I'm taking you down before you get somebody hurt. What's it going to be?" Slapping the bat into her palm to emphasize her point, she looked him dead in the eye. "You going to calm down and work with me here, or do I hit you with this here stick until you fall asleep?"

Echo took an instinctive step towards the changing rooms, then thought better of it. What was her plan here? They were quickly reaching the point where she needed to take Deadbolt down, plain and simple. People were in danger. She could talk some sense into him once she had kicked his ass. But when she'd touched him, she'd fallen victim to his weird extradimensional mind-whammy. Man, I didn't get that power. All I got was super-jumping. She might not be so lucky as to be able to shake it off twice, so she needed to play things a little safer this time. But how? Punching was pretty much her tried-and-true method of combat. She was no ranged fighter - she didn't even have eyebeams. Her eyes lit upon the deranged customer with the bat who had just taken a swing at her. The bat was currently coming back for another go, so she had to admire their persistence. "Hey, mind if I borrow this?" she said, reaching up one hand to grab the bat in midswing. She twisted it out of their grip effortlessly and swung it through the air, testing its balance. "Thanks." She now made for the area the store owner had indicated. As she passed by the overturned hat display, she looked down, then snatched the filthy tinfoil hat off her hand and grabbed a baseball cap. "Much better," she said, settling the cap on her head backwards. Suitably attired, she edged up to the changing rooms, newfound weapon readied in a batter-up position. Hey Deadbolt, c'mon out. Nobody's gonna bat you.

Hmm. Uh, I think we should probably do what we need to do, then make ourselves scarce before the cops show up and see a black woman at a crime scene in Stark Hill (because what could possibly go wrong with that situation). I'm assuming the store has a backroom of some sort, Kaige - if not, let me know and I'll edit the post! Also be sure to let me know of any skill checks I should be making. I will throw in a Notice check here, because it seems suitable. Justicar's Notice check: 1d20+5 13

The distant wailing of the sirens set Lena's nerves on edge, and the blaring alarm didn't help. Cops never helped any situation, not in this city. Especially not for people like her and her brother. Momentarily caught by indecision, she looked up at her brother, watching her from the alley. Robbed, she mouthed. She wasn't sure what he wanted to do - and it wasn't like there had ever been much she could do to change his mind - but it couldn't hurt to clue him in as much as was possible. Making a sudden decision, she ducked into the store. "I'm just going to look around and make sure he's all right. Maybe he fell down or something," she said over her shoulder to the guy with the glasses. Not that that'll matter when the cops get here, but might as well try to establish that. Inside, she could feel her heart speeding up. Those sirens weren't getting any quieter, and she didn't want to be around when they arrived. Whatever she was going to do, she needed to do it fast. "Mr. Rothstein?" she called out, not expecting an answer. "Are you all right?" Even as she spoke, she was going into action, striding through the room, wincing at the volume of the alarm as she cast her eyes all around her in search of anything that seemed amiss. More amiss than it already was. She had minutes at most - she needed to make the most of her time. Her eyes lighted upon the door to the backroom, and she hurried towards it, testing the doorknob.

Dazed, Echo stared after him for a moment, then took off in blind pursuit, the ground pounding past under her hyper-accelerated feet. As the broken window rose up before her, she leaped through, maintaining some semblance of grace even in her unnaturally confused state. She hit the ground in a roll and sprang back up, only for her senses to be assaulted. Tacky store music was playing through tinny speakers. Brightly colored t-shirts and baseball caps were strewn around, spilled from knocked-over display stands. Customers were milling around in confusion and fear - whether simply panicking, or affected by Deadbolt's powers, she was in no state to determine. She took a step forward, shaking her head muzzily, and her foot slipped on a stray baseball bat. "Whurr'd he go?" she slurred through the haze of confusion, tilting her head this way and that in search of Deadbolt. What's...where am I? Her brain felt like it was stuffed with marshmallows. A vague idea occurred to her, and she slapped herself. There was a ringing smack and she nearly passed out. Right, hitting self with super-strength = bad idea. It seemed to clear her head slightly, though, and with a resigned sigh she slapped herself again, this time with the other hand, dialing her strength back a notch as she did so. It took a moment for the stars to fade from her eyes, but when they did, she seemed to be thinking more clearly. Okay, note to self, don't let that happen again, or I'll spend the whole rest of the day kicking my own ass.

Oh, oops. Echo's Notice check: 1d20+12 15

Phew. Right, Echo will chase the guy into the sporting goods store and attack him. Superfast Fists vs. Deadbolt: 1d20+14 22 Damage is +8 plus Autofire. Will save to shake Confuse: 1d20+8+1 11. Really, Orokos? Going to drop a HP on that save. Echo's re-rolled Will save: 1d20+8+1 22. Man, not sorry to be rid of that condition.

Hmm. So, now that Echo's action is up and Deadbolt is no longer the closest creature to her, does she pursue him...or does she turn her attention upon the unfortunate crowd?

And I think that pretty much wraps things up, unless you have anything else you want to get in!

Sam looked at her for a moment, then looked away, down at the ground far below. "Yeah." I hate it when people younger than me are also smarter than me. She waved a hand vaguely to indicate where they had come from. "That..." she searched carefully for the right words, then sighed. "That wasn't much of a life." Her words sounded inadequate even to her. They had been bloodthirsty monsters that fed on the innocent. But when it came to living fast, irresponsibly, without regard for how it hurt other people, she was pretty much living in a glass house. Or at least she had been. Not that she regretted stopping them, of course not. She just wondered, if things had just fallen a little differently, if maybe she wouldn't have been a million miles away from them when it came to what kind of person she was. She shook her head and at her eyes with her forefinger and thumb. God, she wanted to sleep. "Anyway," she said. "Good night's work. They aren't going to be fanging anybody else anytime soon." She was silent a moment longer, then extended one fist for a sideways fist-bump with Gretchen. "Let's go get you back to Lynn so she can start fussing over you. Maybe get some cake too."

Whoah, that ain't good. Echo's eyes darted across the crowd as she felt panic start to rise in her chest. It looked like Deadbolt had some kind of madness-power, and he wasn't picky about who he used it on. For all she knew, those people might start biting each other's faces off at at any moment, or worse. They didn't seem much of a danger to themselves now, but... On the other hand, punching was pretty much her one and only area of expertise. She didn't have an easy and effective way of restraining an entire crowd of people who weren't in control of themselves, and she couldn't just go around smacking them on the head. So that meant that her best bet was to go right for the source. She paused in her sprint just long enough to set Jack down on his face and clap him on the shoulder. "Back in a mo'." Then she was off again, once more swerving sideways to run sideways along the storefronts, bypassing the crowd. "Hey! DB!" she yelled. "You need to cool it with whatever you're doing here!" She blurred straight towards Deadbolt and lashed out with her hands, trying to grab him. "I'm on your side here, so stop freaking out!" The moment her hands touched him, a thought passed through her mind: this probably wasn't a smart idea. Her physics-senses went into overdrive. Everything seemed to be warping and distorting around her - it was like the split second when she teleported, only she wasn't going anywhere. "What the...what's..." Her head felt like it was about to explode. The floor seemed to be rushing up to meet her, but she wasn't falling. Deadbolt was there, and she realized she didn't know where "there" was. The only coherent thought she could manage was the vague recollection of her intent to...was it attack? It was attack.

Weeell, let's give it a shot. What could possibly go wrong, eh? Echo's attack roll: 1d20+14 17 Echo's Grapple check: 1d20+24 28. Oof. A resounding failure. Annnd...Echo's Will save: 1d20+8 18. Oh, that's just brilliant. I'll just roll real quick to see what effects she suffers, if that's all right with you (purely for the sake of expedience, so I can work it into my IC post.) Confuse result: 1d20 16 Hm. "Attack the nearest creature." She just tried to grapple him, so would that be Deadbolt?

And the reason that Justicar's at the scene is that Stronghold called her to the scene. Makes you think, don't it?

It went without saying that Lena Lexington didn't like Stark Hill. The entire neighborhood was like one giant, twisted labyrinth that seemed as though it could have been deliberately designed to confuse visitors. But that wasn't why she didn't like it. It also wasn't because of the aura of shabbiness and decay projected by the jumbles of bars and rowhouses. Hell, it wasn't even because of the entire goddamn place being run by the mob. It was the way everybody looked at her whenever she was there. They never said anything - nobody ever did - but she didn't need psychic abilities to know what the first thing through their minds was the moment they saw her. Sideways glances, quickly-averted eyes, and pursed lips said a lot more than words ever did. It used to bother her, but at some point you just had to stop giving a @#$%. And it wasn't as if she wasn't going to get those looks no matter where she went in Bedlam. For most of her life, she never set foot in Stark Hill if she could help it. She'd heard - and been witness to - enough horror stories to know why that was not conductive to a long and healthy life. But once you found out you were pretty much bulletproof, a lot of places suddenly became a lot safer. And once you found out you could lift a car, you didn't shy away from dirty looks anymore. Which was why, when her brother Luthor had called her about a mysteriously empty storefront, she hadn't been worried about going to investigate it. Jewelry store break-ins weren't her wheelhouse, but when you picked up the mask, you didn't pick-and-choose. Everybody running this city picked and chose what to care about, and look how that turned out. Lena stepped off the bus into a cloud of heat and stinking exhaust. She was simply dressed in a navy blue polo shirt and jeans, with her bag slung over her shoulder and her dreadlocks tied back in a loose knot. Scanning the street, her eyes quickly landed on Luthor's truck, and on Luthor a moment later. She repressed a snort at the site of him trying to blend in with the scenery - her brother had never been much good at blending in anywhere, least of all in Stark Hill. Both of them stuck out like sore thumbs here, and they knew it. She gave a curt nod in his direction, making eye contact, then twitched her chin at the store. I'll check it out A worried-looking man stood outside the storefront - a storefront that was, Lena saw, just as suspiciously empty as Luthor had described it as. The place had probably just closed up overnight, but since she was already there she might as well poke around. She approached the man, one hand on the strap of her book bag, keeping a safe distance. Didn't want to scare the daylights out of the guy. "Hey," she said, opening with a nonchalant question. "What time's this place open up?"

Boy, better and better, eh? Echo should probably have just stuck to the coffee shop this morning, her day would be going much more smoothly. Right. So, seeking more GM judgement: with Speed 9, can Echo weave her way through the crowd to reach Deadbolt, or are they packed too thick? And if the crowd is too thick to penetrate without bowling people over, could she use Leaping to just jump right over? (She has a long jump distance of 875 ft.) The idea is to reach Deadbolt and attempt a grapple (her answer to everything today, it would seem), in the hopes that she can make him stop whatever he did to the people. If there's any problems with any part of that, let me know.

If Deadbolt made for quite a sight, Echo could only imagine how she must look, clad as she was in filthy blue-and-silver tights, with a tinfoil hat on her head and a vomiting man in her arms. I really hope this doesn't make it onto Youtube. And she imagined that none of them were exactly a symphony for the nose either, considering how covered in...stuff they all were. "Excuse me! Pardon me! Comin' through!" She ducked and weaved as she super-sprinted her way through the crowd, using her unnatural reflexes to avoid colliding with any mall-goers. All she needed right now was to knock over a baby carriage or something, then her day would be complete. I always thought saving the city would feel more heroic and less...pathetic. All I've ever saved is 19th-century Utah and a city council election. "Superhero stuff, go about your business!" As she ran, she tried to figure out exactly where they were. Midtown, obviously, and somewhere in the Millennial Mall. But where? Which entrance had they come through? Which direction were they headed? She cursed herself for not keeping better track of her surroundings. She was supposed to be used to traversing the city at super-speed.

Echo's Intelligence check: 1d20+2 5. Whoops. Looks like she got a little turned around in the sewers.

Give me a poke if there's any problems with that post. I figured that those actions were reasonable with Quickness 9, but if not, let me know. Also, now that she no longer needs to keep Jack on her back, she's really opening 'er up and configuring her Reality Warping array to boost her Speed to Rank 9.

Tin Hat's words made Echo bite her lip in indecision. He had already helped her find Deadbolt, right? So he'd helped her more than he had to. Dragging him on a cross-city supersonic chase against his will would probably make her kind of a jerk. They had already put plenty of distance between them and Neutron, judging by the speeds they were going at - so maybe it was time to let the poor guy get on with his life. Quick-like. She skidded to an instant halt, sending up waves of what she firmly chose to believe was water, and warped time further, almost stopping it entirely. Momentarily released from her gravitational hold, Jack hung nearly motionless in the air with a severely pitiable expression on his face, and she set Tin Hat down on his feet as gently as she could. Let's see...Feeling she owed him for his help, she produced a scrap of paper and a pen from her utility belt and scrawled him a note: Her pen paused as she struggled with the last part, but she decided to leave it in. She didn't exactly have a public phone number for her Echo persona, and she didn't want to give him any info that could lead him to her secret identity - simply because he might accidentally reveal it to someone at an inopportune moment. She really did owe him for his help, so the dojo was the best bet for contacting her. If Erik had a problem with her telling a homeless guy where to find the Interceptors' home base, he could chew her out all he wanted later. It's not like supervillains have never attacked the place before. And I didn't really tell him what it is. Task done, she tucked the note into Tin Hat's unmoving hand, along with a pair of twenty-dollar bills. Looks like I don't eat this month, but eh. And with that, she grabbed Jack, in her arms this time, and was off again. Time resumed its normal speed as she burst out of the manhole in renewed pursuit of Deadbolt.