Amelia

Octoman

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"Miss Katastroff!" said Ms. Hancock, cutting through the noise as she appeared in front of Eira's desk - and yes, by God, the guesses were right because she had clearly teleported from behind her desk to in front of Eira's. "Report to the headmistress's office immediately." Eira glared up at Ms. Hancock before rising to her feet and striding her way towards the door. As she opened the door, she turned and raised her hands in the "horns" symbol, sticking her newly-pierced tongue through them and called "An-arch-y!"

"YEAH!" Ben stood up out of his seat, raised a pair of horns of his own, and started chanting. "Mess with the best and die like the rest! AN-ARCH-Y! AN-ARCH-Y!" Before Ms. Hancock had a chance to react, he started walking toward the door on his own initiative, still chanting, horns raised, following Eira out into the hall. "Yeah, yeah, Grandma Summers office, I'm goin'. AN-ARCH-Y!"

Ben slapped Leroy on the back and fist-bumped him on his way out. "Prince Akheem, with the LOYALTY. MAD RESPECT."

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"Anarchy!" There was a brief set of sparkling, and then Mia's hoodie had an A in a circle on it. She stood, and fist-pumped towards Eira.

Ben smiled and nodded at Mia, fist-bumping her with one hand, while his other hand pointed at his own eyes, then at hers, then at his own again.

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“If you want to see true Anarchy I’ll happily take you to places where the government has no power and the populous are controlled over the barrel of the gun."

Ben pointed twin finger-guns and a cocky grin at Àjàṣorò. "Dude, we're already IN New Jersey."

Once he was out in the hall, he ran to catch up to Eira. "Yo, Chica, RIGHTEOUS hack you pulled off there! Didn't know you were a fellow keyboard-warrior."

Octoman

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The creatures red eyes peered over the scene below it before locking onto Octoman. "There you are!"

For a moment, Octoman felt like those red eyes were stabbing his own, and he was completely frozen with terror. Then a single thought seeped through the cracks in his mental ice, a thought he'd had many times before but had never put so rigorously to the test, a thought so profound, so moving, that he couldn't help but say it out loud.

"What...would GECKOMAN do?"

Octoman saw the "cool punk-rock Viking girl" trade blows with the charging rhinoceros, and it gave him an idea. His tentacles reached up over her head and wrapped around the enormous beast. "Hey Chica, can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks." The tentacles lifted the beast into the air. He whispered to himself, or, at least, he thought he did, but since he couldn't hear himself, he didn't realize he was speaking at more or less a normal volume. "Time to yeet like you've never yeet'd before. The Ultimate Yeet. The Yeet of Destiny. The Yeetening. The Yeetgasm. No, not that one. So yeet it be." The tentacles hurled the beast at the giant lizard-man. "HEY GO-GO! DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TELL YOU THAT YOU SHOULDN'T GET HORNY ON MAIN?!"

Octoman

Free Action: Maintain the grapple on Fear Master.

Free Action: Apply a Chokehold to Fear Master.

Full Action: Grapple and throw the rhino, at Goanna.

Full-grown rhinos top out around 2.5 tons. That's a Heavy Load for Strength 40. At Strength 50, Octoman has 10 points more than he needs, two 5-point increments, so his throwing distance goes up two steps on the Progression Table, from 5ft to 25ft. If that isn't far enough to hit Goanna, let me know and I'll have him use Extra Effort to double it.

Attack roll to hit the Rhino with the grapple attempt: 13.

If that fails, Hero Point re-roll: 26.

Grapple check: 42.

If he wins, attack roll to hit Goanna: 30. Natural 20.

If 30 would normally have missed, then the natural 20 hits, and it's a DC25 Toughness save for both the rhino and Goanna.

If 30 would normally have hit, then it's a critical, and it's a DC30 Toughness save for both the rhino and Goanna.

Dirge

When the Fryxian walked into the Synthia Bower and saw how much larger the interior was than the exterior, his eyes grew wide and his jaw slowly fell open. The skeptical squint that had been his only reply to Archeville's reassurances regarding his own mental state vanished completely. For the first time since they had met, the human saw what it looked like when Dirge was impressed. "EXTRAORDINARY..." he half-whispered to no one in particular. His eyes were continually occupied by the highest and farthest parts of his surroundings as he followed the group to Archeville's laboratory. He didn't have much to contribute to the scientific discussion, save for a suggestion that "Whatever tests you perform on the corpses, Terran, should also be performed on you." Mostly, he stayed out of the way.

Persephone

Some time later, Camellia's entire bedroom was covered in blossom petals, as though a bomb had gone off and used them as shrapnel. Which wasn't too far off from what had actually happened. While still cuddled up to Marcus, Camellia chuckled and lifted a fistful of them up off of the mattress, only to shrug at the futility and drop them again. "Good grief. I promise that doesn't happen every time" she mumbled, red-faced, into his chest.

After a period of relaxed silence it was impossible for either of them to gauge, Camellia rolled halfway over and leaned her head on her arm, looking Marcus right in the eye while one hand stayed on his chest. "Listen, Sweetheart, there's something we need to talk about now that certain doors have been opened. I'm sure you noticed how I steered us in the direction of...'everything but'...and, well, there's a reason for that. I'm a firm believer in informed consent. And you can't give that without being informed. I...for the first time in my life, I don't know what my own fertility situation is. Like I said before, my whole physiology's outta kilter. I was on the pill before, well..." She grabbed another handful of petals, "...This. And after, I just kept taking it. But I have no idea if it's still doing anything. I could have a super-womb now for all I know, or I might not be able to have children at all while she's with me." She tapped her own chest. "I just don't know. But you should know...how do I say this...Before you till that patch of soil, understand that if you plant a seed there, it will bear fruit, and if that's unacceptable, then you should keep your plow away from that field." She laid her head back down on Marcus's shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, if we do...that...we should use protection. It's not like I'm trying to get pregnant right now. I do want to be a mother, but I'd prefer to be a wife first, and a girlfriend before that. But if I do get that way, I'm staying that way. It's not that I have any moral objection to...the alternative. I've been down that road before. But that was a long time ago. I wasn't ready then. If it happens again, I'll see it as a gift from God, and I'll act accordingly. If that's a pair of dice you'd prefer not to roll, I understand, and I won't take it personally." Her finger traced up and down his sternum as she grinned. "I think we just proved there's plenty of other fun and games at this carnival."

She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "But if you are feeling lucky, the dice are in the nightstand on your right, top drawer."

Octoman

Ben Wang was indeed "a bit of a flake and drama queen"...in other words, he was a teenager.

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"Borrowed, not jacked. Well, took him for a walk, at least. Just did a friend a favor. Sir Woofington is back home. now."

Ben was deflated, almost mumbling. "Dog-sitting, not dog-napping. Right. Doin' a buddy a solid. Gotcha. My bad. Next time you see him, I guess...give him one behind the ears from me." He glared at Ms. Hancock as he hoisted his pack back over his shoulder. "I dunno how Geckoman stuck around here for four DAYS, nevermind four years" he grumbled as he departed for class.

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"Take heart, good Ben!"

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“Maybe we go to a shelter after school and find you an Octodog of your very own?"

"Don't have room for a dog. Tiny apartment, remember?" He threw his hands up. "Look, Guys, I'm fine. Just got, like, caught up in the moment. Moment's passed. Forget about it. I'm good."

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"Students:

 

When I was born, the seed was sown
I will not obey, my life is my own
Battle those, who wish to enslave me
Expose the lies, that enrage me..."

Ben squinted quizzically at the screen. He couldn't hear the music, and he didn't recognize the lyrics, so at first, it was just gibberish to him. Then he discreetly slid his smartphone out from the "pocket" he'd created from the folds of his own flesh and ran a web search for the words. When he realized it was a rock song, he started laughing. "HAH! NICE. Rock on, Grandma! Someone slip something into her coffee this morning? Or did she finally get the surgery to take the stick out?"

Octoman's Initiative: 26.

Octoman had the most recent IC post inside, particularly in the "let's go outside" conversation, until just a few minutes ago, so I was trying to let Tiff and Fox respond before posting again.

Octoman's Will save: 12. Nope!

Octoman

"Mamá and Tatay always said we didn't have room for a dog, 'cause we've always lived in tiny apartments, and we couldn't afford one anyway, and, I mean, YEAH, they're right, but we'll figure somethin' out-" Ben fell over onto the floor when the giant dog he'd been wrapped around and pressed up against disappeared. "NO!" His fist slammed into the floor. He jumped to his feet and grabbed the front of Pan's shirt. "Bring him BACK! Wait, whatta you MEAN, 'the owner'? As in, NOT YOU?! You freakin' JACKED somebody's dog?!" He pushed Pan's chest, hard. "Double-you-tee-eff's the MATTER with you, Dude?! That's SO NOT RIGHT!" His shoulders slumped. "Did...did you even know his name?"

Persephone's Notice check to pick up on the +Subtle Emotion Control (DC20): 23.

Will saves (DC20): 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9, 11, 12, 12, 13, 16, 17, 17, 18, 18, 19, 20, 20 .

Of the 23 able-bodied crew members of the Elizabeth Dane, 2 resist, 6 become Friendly, 4 become Helpful, and 11 become Fanatical.

The Helpful and Fanatical ones switch to the side of abandoning the ship.

Dirge

Twin bright orange eyes squinted at Archeville from under the sheep-man's prominent eyebrow ridge. "Did it not OCCUR to you, TERRAN, that the VOICE you hear may be the first sign of THE VERY MADNESS which set the PREVIOUS crew at each other's THROATS? YES, we should INDEED leave this place, IMMEDIATELY, so we can HALT the effects of WHATEVER affliction this ship has PLAGUED you with." Before the Fryxian could say another word, his stomach growled, loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked down at his own belly, then back up at Archeville. "And also to retrieve these...'snacks' you speak of."

Octoman

"FINALLY! WHEW." Octoman's shoulders relaxed as the ball captured Gabriel. "MAN am I glad you finally pulled that off, 'cause I had NOTHIN' else up my sleeve." He then realized what he'd said out loud, turned to Gabriel, and said "Um, I mean...NOT THAT."

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"Caught myself a Koffing," Soliton said with a grin. Then she gestured at Octoman, like 'yeah? yeah?'

Octoman pointed twin finger-guns at Soliton, flashed her an open-mouthed grin, and nodded. "NICE."

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"So, she was one of my friends in high school, so maybe we should...Not give her brain damage?"

Octoman shrugged. "Look, the second I pull her outta this water, the flames are gonna start back up, and, pun EXTREMELY intended, we're HOSED. You whip up someplace fireproof for me to put her, and I'll put her in there. Besides, the REAL brain damage won't start until AFTER she passes out. This right here, we're talkin' one night of keg stands, tops." He glanced back at Angela and stage-whispered "Gooooo into the liiiiight."

Octoman

Ben's face emerged from the massive dog's fur, his eyes even larger than before. "NOOO!!!" He clutched the mastiff even more tightly, and slid around to place his body between the dog and Ms. Hancock. "Don't send away my new sidekick the Octopup! I just GOT him! Hmmm...'Octofloof'? 'Octodog'? I'll set up an online poll. 'Octobark'?" He buried his face in the dog's fur again. "And I...uh...I NEED him! He's my...my new hearing-ear dog! Also, like, emotional support and stuff! Look, we can set him up in mine and Davyd's room. That place is ALREADY a total freakshow unfit for human habitation! A dog'll probably make it CLEANER!"

Mister Strix

She's older than me. Much older. I guess most of them are. Not that it's saved them...

The pale man was animated enough when he spoke, but otherwise, for as much as his face moved, it may as well have been carved out of marble. But Lucy saw that unflappability crack when he sniffed and sipped the wine. She spotted how he didn't actually swallow any of it, and she caught the brief expression of anguish cross his face. It wasn't just a bad taste in his mouth. It was a memory.

"I'm...just some Guy."

Never gets old.

"I know our kind can be...territorial. Rest assured, I'm as eager to get home as you are to see me on my way. I've already been away longer than I'd prefer. I'm just passing through. I was here on business, and that business is concluded...for now. I've followed trails of breadcrumbs here before, and I'm sure I'll be dragged back here again, but not for a while."

He let out a half-chuckle and a wry grin. "I didn't know if there were any of us active here, but if there were, I expected a less cordial reception. And greater discretion. I should have known. After all, it's Freedom City. So of course even the monsters here are kinder and gentler, and living out loud and proud. My...associate back home, Burt, he suffers from a similar case of terminal respiratory failure, but without the crippling addiction. He's from here. The shiny idealism still hasn't quite rubbed off of him yet. You can thank him for the fact that we're talking right now instead of fighting. Before he came along, it never would have occurred to me to let a thing like us keep walking around for one second longer than it took to see it for what it was."

He stared down into his wine glass for a few moments, before sliding it away. "I don't drink wine. Just a bit of silly self-indulgent sentimentality. And no, it's never been 'consensual', or 'on the level'. I don't kill..."

EXCEPT FOR THAT ONE TIME. AND THOSE NEAR MISSES.

"...and I'm not contagious. But 'consent' is something for...companions. So far, all I've had is...prey...and they've all been...guilty. The act is...inescapably...pleasant...for both parties. But I've tried to inflict enough terror and pain, before and after, that no one involved forgets what it's really about. The one who made me, he wants it to be...fun for me. He wants me to become like him. I'd rather feel the kiss of the Sun again. And 'companionship'...is something that hasn't occurred to me in a while."

Lucy caught the man casting an involuntary glance toward his own left hand. Toward the third finger from the right. The tan line was gone, along with every other scar and imperfection upon his skin. The change had affected him in that manner the same as her. It was obvious once you knew to look for it. But there was little doubt that a wedding band once decorated it.

"But I would like to hear about this 'Cantina'. If it's 'human-friendly', then there's no way they let him in there, him or the screwed-up 'family' he wants me to join. Any place that can keep them out is useful. And I can make a fair trade. If you ever have the misfortune to find yourself in Bedlam City, and you need a place to stay, or other...'resources'...pick up a phone. Any phone. Doesn't have to work, doesn't have to be connected to anything. Just ask for the Twilight Lodge. The Operator will connect you."

@Thunder King If you want, feel free to have Mali notice that a certain someone sitting in the background did not show up in the picture.

Dirge

The cerulean sheep-man nodded and headed straight for the crates. This was nothing new for the last Fryxian. Since striking out on his own, he'd made at least as much of a living as a laborer as he had a bodyguard or a mercenary. Even with the latter jobs, the former tended to bleed in as often as not. And the labor did not always involve metal. He clamped down upon opposite sides of the next stone lid with thick three-fingered hands, and he strained and groaned. Even beneath his fur his fellow explorers could see his muscles bulge and quiver. The chunk of carved rock weighed more than the Fryxian himself, but he was able to heave it up over his head and hurl it several feet away, inflicting a second quake upon the chamber.

"They had WEAPONS, but they did not USE them. Either they could not FOCUS their psychic power enough to retrieve the rifles, or it did not OCCUR to them to TRY. The explanation is THE SAME. They were not in their right minds. It is as I suspected...AFFLICTED, by MADNESS."

Yes, Dirge will help. His Heavy Load tops out at 520 lbs., so he's strong enough to lift a lid over his head, and either throw it 5ft, or carry it while moving at 2/3rds speed.

Edited!

Short answer: 8 ranks of Progression.

Long answer:

A rank 10 burst area is 5ft per rank radius by default, covering a 100ft diameter area.

The bay is basically a triangle, with a height of 3 miles and a base of 8 miles, and a depth of 150ft.

Progression 8 would give you a radius of 2,500ft (1/2 mile) per rank, 50,000ft (10 miles) total diameter, which, if your epicenter is anywhere along the middle axis of the bay, would cover the whole bay along every dimension (and, unless you have +Selective, most of the city, and quite a bit of land on either side of the bay).

Since Octoman is no longer using all of his Additional Limbs to grapple his victim, his grapple bonus drops by -4.

Let me know if you want me to make an opposed Strength check for Octoman to move his victim. I assume, however, since he's lifting the guy up above the ground, that the guy has nothing to brace himself against, and thus, no way to resist. And unless he's got a bunch of Density ranks, he's well under Octoman's light load.

Octoman is going to move back out into the open air as fast as he can. His Elongation lets him zip along at 25MPH / 250ft per move action, as long as there's something for him to grab onto and pull himself toward, and he has full Wall-Crawling. But beyond that, he's limited to the normal 30ft per move action ground movement. If it doesn't take both of his move actions for the round just to get outside, then he'll use his second one for Leaping, to get some air, and with it, a bird's-eye view of the situation. He has a standing high jump of 125ft. If he sees trouble, then he'll try to land as close to it as he can.

Octoman

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"You are already too late. By now half the park, including your friends, should be cowering in fear, as agitated animals freed from their enclosures start to run amok among them. So you have a choice young hero. Waste time dealing with me and let people start being injured or killed, or go now and try to help stop the animals."

The tentacles wrapped around the man slowly dragged him through the air toward Octoman until their faces hovered just a couple inches from each other, practically touching. The white eyes of Octoman's mask half-squinted, half-glared at him. He lowered his voice, almost growling through gritted teeth. "WHY. NOT. BOTH. DOT. OLD. EL. PASO. DOT. GIF!" His grimace melted into a grin, and he took off back the way he came, running up the walls, lashing out with his tentacles to grab onto far-away fixtures and then rapidly pull himself forward as his tentacles retracted. While stuck to a nearby wall, Octoman dropped into a crouch, flexed and clenched to release a blast of air from his internal bladders, soaring into the air and screaming "IT'S NOT WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE!" in a vain attempt to obscure the unmistakable sound of gas being pushed out through fleshy sphincters, which any observers would reasonably correlate with a loud fart. Several of his tentacles still held the mysterious man firm, dragging him through the air along for the ride.

When he reached the apex of his jump, he spotted his fellow students and the runaway animals, but he momentarily forgot any of them existed once he spied a certain giant lizard-man creeping along the rooftops, and audibly gulped, feeling like he'd just swallowed a baseball. The first time he'd seen that monster in-person, it was tearing people limb from limb, biting people's heads off, and looking down at Ben as the boy seized and puked and voided his bowels and died in the street. That was also the last time, unless you count all the nightmares Ben had about him since.

Octoman's tentacles shot down at the ground as close to the action as he could, and they pulled him down toward the ground, accelerating his descent. He pointed up at the rooftop where he'd last seen Goanna and started stammering. "Th-th-THE GUY! Who is also a LIZARD! The LIZARD-GUY! With the RARRR! And the CHOMP!"

Persephone is going to try to convince the remaining crew of the Elizabeth Dane to abandon ship. It's going to be a DC30 Diplomacy check. She will take 10 with Skill Mastery and hit DC25, so she needs +5 more.

Sagrado Corazon has Diplomacy +15 with Skill Mastery as well, so he could take 10 on an Aid check and hit DC25, with 20 being enough to give a +3 Aid bonus (+2 for DC10, +1 for DC20 = +3). Or Sagrado can take the lead and Persephone can Aid him.

That's 28. They still need another +2, which would require one other PC to Aid them and hit DC10 on a Diplomacy check.

However, if your PC doesn't feel the need to pressure the crew to abandon ship, then don't feel obligated to have them contribute to the effort. I'm not trying to railroad anyone.

Aside from that matter, things are fairly open for this round of IC posts.

GM

Over the next few minutes, the shoreline descended into chaos as bystanders fought both to get away from the bay and to get a closer look. Emergency vehicles and black S.U.V.s gradually accumulated along the waterfront, their occupants managing the crowds as best they could.

With the ship no longer on fire or in imminent danger of sinking, the captain of the Elizabeth Dane had no intention of leaving her, and his remaining crew, the ones who were still conscious and could still stand upright, followed his lead. They insisted on staying behind to repair water pumps and oil leaks, and to recover what cargo they could that had gone overboard while the hull was breached. The situation was still fraught with peril, but the crew's livelihoods were at stake. "We can just drop anchor until the Coast Guard is done sweeping the mines." If they were going to leave, they would take some serious convincing.

Having no first aid to administer thanks to Sagrado Corazon's healing powers, and no floating bodies to retrieve, the two boat patrol cops spent most of their time on their radio. Eventually, they held it out toward the assembled heroes. "The mayor wants to talk to the Defenders."

Even over the scratchy, static-ridden radio, Richenda Barker's voice was instantly familiar. "We're getting a lot of conflicting reports, but right now you're the only eyes and ears we have on the ground, so we need you to help us separate the signal from the noise. I can tell you on our end, Tallahassee and Washington are both taking this seriously as an act of domestic terrorism. The governor and Cahill's office have already been in touch. Every F.B.I. and Homeland Security agent in Florida is on their way here, along with half the agents in Georgia and Alabama. It'll take them a while to get here, but when they do, they're going to take the city apart looking for the Dreadnaut and any accomplices he might have. I'd like to have this whole thing resolved before then, but I know there's only so much even you all can do. The Navy is dispatching a mine sweeper, but it'll be a while before they get here either. And after the loss of the Disco Volante, the Coast Guard refuses to send in any more ships until they do. But they're setting up a perimeter at the mouth of the bay, and they're stripping down a chopper right now and loading it up with as many sonar buoys as it'll carry."

Dirge

The blue-furred behemoth glared down his snout disdainfully at the corpses. "These are not the signs of BATTLE. These people were not SLAIN. They were BUTCHERED. EATEN. Set upon by some FOUL BEAST...or they TURNED upon each other in desperation. In MADNESS. They did NOT die like WARRIORS."

"This reminds me of an old Fryxian legend, a TALL TALE the elders would tell around campfires to scare the lambs. The Og'd'nu. Once in a great while, a Fryxian WEAK of spirit would be CONSUMED by GREED or RAGE, and FORGET his HONOR and his HERD, forget ALL which made him FRYXIAN. In such FERTILE SOIL, a SEED would be planted, a DEMON who would POSSESS him. A voice whispering blasphemies into his ears, ROTTING him from the INSIDE, HOLLOWING him out, driving him BEYOND DELIRIUM AND DESPAIR. He would ABANDON his herd, to live as A CAT would, ALONE. He would retreat to the FARTHEST REACHES of Ku'unum, the lands where NOTHING grows in the ground, and he would...he would eat FLESH. TEAR it from the BONES of his victims with HIS OWN TEETH, while they still lived, while they SCREAMED. Having NO ONE to huddle with at night, he would RIP the fleece from his victims and WEAR IT as if it were HIS OWN. The demon would make him strong, but his hunger COULD NOT BE SATED, for when HE ate, THE DEMON WITHIN fed as well. To become such a DEGENERATE ABOMINATION was the WORST FATE imaginable, worse even than becoming its PREY. But to SLAY one...there was no GREATER GLORY."