EviscerusNox

So the basic idea is that it's karaoke night and a bunch of the super hero types show up to blow off steam and sing their favorite songs. Good chance for characters who haven't met to meet and for character building. If people want to do threads in other areas of the freedom universe that is good too. Bedlam karaoke night, emerald cities, CoVic etc Anyways if interested post up here

actually it's 2 reflex saves for dc 14, but he would have definitely failed a second reflex so instead he's just blinded the fort is for sleep gas which isn't what he used (doi!) so 2 reflex saves are needed for Brig, not a fort and a reflex

Ok here's where things get interesting Giving Brig an HP for the bad guys calling in hired muscle. Also the man is dropping a flashbang, so going to need a reflex save and a fort save from Brigandine as well as Declan Reflex save vs flashbang: 1d20+4 20 That's his reflex, now for Fort Fort Save DC 14: 1d20+7 10 so makes the reflex save but fails the fortitude, he is deafened and blinded!

GM With startled yelps of surprise that turned into full blown screams, the hapless thugs bolted back the way they came, passing either by, or just straight through Declan. One by one they threw themselves out of the porthole window, into the murky water of the Manitowoc River, and with the fight or flight response in the full tilt towards the latter, doggedly swam as fast as they could towards the shore. "Toes" Moretti looked completely shocked, both from seeing a dead man in front of him, and seeing his goons run out of the room, then back in after a booming voice had echoed through the hallways, only to defenestrate themselves. "What in the &*#! is going on here!" Moretti yelped in a higher register than his voice was meant for. Without waiting for an answer, Moretti pressed a large red button next to the door and strobing red lights started to flash through the interior of the ship. No auditory alarm could be heard, however a man stepped out of a secret room in the back of the illegal poker den. The man was large, and absolutely covered in tactical gear. Grenades of all shapes and sizes covered a bandoleer across his chest and he held in his hands a FN P90, one of those sleek assault rifles that loaded the clip from the top. He also, Declan noted, wore a gas mask with a tinted face plate. Without missing a beat, the man popped the pin off of a cylindrical grenade and tossed it on to the floor, and then the world exploded in light and deafening thunder.

Alrighty! Will Save Vs Intimidate: 1d20 10 Only on a natural 20 would that have succeeded so they are running for their lives!

Yeah she's got the room, barely, but she has it. she'll basically fill the corridor

Ok so Declan's gonna take a swing at the skinny one Attack Roll vs Fingers: 1d20+9 22 Hits so Finger's will save vs the attack: Will Save vs Ghost Punch: 1d20+2 7 Ooh, not good, failed by 13 so that makes him unconscious as he's a minion As for the rest of the thugs, they will all pull out pistols and unload into Declan to no affect as he is insubstantial. The 4 PL2 thugs are frightened enough by the display that they will bolt out the door right into the path of Brigandine as she was approaching said door, she gets surprise of course due to both her stealth check, and that it is very surprising to run into her!

Declan cursed as his first swing went wide. In life he would have never thrown such a sloppy punch! He could hear his old coach Tuck in the back of his mind: Whatya tryin' to do? Let all of Freedom City know yer about to throw a punch? Telegraph like that again and yer liable to get yer clock cleaned fer free! Declan took the old advise to heart and brought his arms in close, taking up a cross defense stance. Once "Fingers" righted himself Declan flashed out an uppercut that caught the skinny man flush. A dazzling blue flash erupted from Declan's glowing fist as it connected flesh for an instant, then past through the man's head. "Fingers" was lifted off his feet into the air from the force to come crashing back down on the poker table, destroying it and sending chips, cards, and cash all flying about the room. Finger's slumped to the floor, unconscious and deathly pale. Panicking the rest of the thugs in the room including "Toes" Moretti pulled their weapons and opened fire. A storm of bullets passed through Declan and he watched as the degenerate criminals eyes went wide. Declan started to laugh, it echoed off the walls of the room, sounding far away and ethereal. This shook the younger men in the room to their core. Each turned to look at the other before one screamed, "No way, man! I don't get paid enough to fight ghosts!" Then one after the other all four ran from the room, leaving only "Toes" Moretti with the specter in front of him. The men running down the hall didn't get far before coming face to face with a blonde wisp of a woman with the looks of something between a goddess and a movie starlet. They looked at her quizzically their guns still in hand, but those hands were trembling now. "What're you doing down here, lady? Don't you know this place is haunted?!"

Ok so the date is turned out but oblivious and there's no way the guards can spot her

ok, going to have the Gangsters roll notice vs Bugbear's stealth Stealth: 1d20+6 12 Stealth of a terrible 12 Perception: 1d20+0 11 Barely miss his presence I guess he'll take a swing at a lowly thug and then do initiative oooh, that's no good Ghost Strike Attack: 1d20+9 10 so initiative! Initiative: 1d20+2 7 Bugbear is slowwwww Initiative: 1d20+1 3 Thugs are actually slower Brigandine i'm gonna rule can hear the ruckus so go ahead and roll initiative as well, will only take her a move to get there if she uses her speed power, but more like a full round if not and tries to extricate herself incognito like

Declan remembered from his brief visit that the real deals happened at the aft of the ship, below decks near there engine. There is where the real money changed hands whether it was a poker game between mafia lieutenants or a smuggling deal, or any other type of nefarious thing. So, Declan made a bee line of sorts to the aft of the ship, trying to steer clear of anyone that could be civilians. Seeing a ghost on the water would most likely draw both screams and unwanted attention. He hoped that the lowlifes known as Frankie "Fingers" Malone and Tommy "Toes" Moretti were where he thought they were. He had tracked them to this boat, but he couldn't very well follow them in the way they came. Luckily walls, or hulls in this case, were no longer obstacles for him. Deftly gliding up under the keel of the boat, Declan ascended deck after deck until he found himself floating with just his head sticking out of the floor of a smoke filled room. The room housed about 6 men, all with shoulder rigs and all with the distinct look of what was once called "button men." Declan recognized both "Fingers" and "Toes," sitting at a poker table. Fingers was a tall lanky fellow in an awful burgundy suit that was stained at the shoulders and knees. He was smiling over his cards and "Toes" who was frowning down at his. "Toes" was the exact opposite of "Fingers," squat, rotund, balding and in a dark blue pinstripe suit that was immaculate. "You got nothin' Frankie, so stop with the BS smile already," Toes croaked from his seat as he shifted his bulk. "You ain't never beat me at cards yet, not gonna do it today neither." Toes pushed in a large stack of chips and smirked at Fingers as his smile faltered a little. "Oh yeah fatty? We'll see 'bout that," having successfully goaded him, Fingers pushed in an equal pile of chips and threw his cards down on the table. "Small straight to the 7, whatcha think of that Moretti?" Moretti smiled broadly and slowly layed down his hand, it was Aces full of eights. Fingers swore under his breath and pounded on the table. Declan floated all the way up out of the floor at that point, right behind Fingers. "Dead man's hand. Ironic, and yet appropriate." As Fingers stumbled to his feet shouting and reaching for his gun, Declan threw a haymaker that missed by a mile due to Fingers stumbling over the chair to get his piece out. Malone's eyes went wide as he recognized the wraith in front of him. "Mother Mary, yer supposed to be dead!" "I am," whispered Declan, "and you're gonna join me!"

feel free to describe whatever part of this riverboat you want, i just made it up so it can look like anything we want

Maxie set the marker down and cracked his fingers, nodding absently. "Yeah, probably about 3 or 4 hours. You want to take a break before we start? A refill on that OJ or somethin'?" Maxie grabbed her drink and his empty beer, throwing the latter in the trash and grabbing another. He closed the door to the fridge and leaned against it, taking a long pull from the bottle before looking back to Moira, his eyes lingered on her longer than he meant them to, then looked down at his feet. "The tree will probably take the longest, that and the fairy wings, but for 2 different reasons. Those heavy lines on that tree will require a few passes while the wings require slow delicate work. I see you've gotten a tattoo before so you know the drill on the pain," Max laughed and shook his head, "That is if you can even feel that as pain. Considerin' I seen you wrestle a giant metal bull I doubt you're overly worried about a few little needles."

Maxie smiled and looked up from the drawing at Moira, his face beaming with pride over her compliment. "I actually had a shop before, when I first moved to the city. Didn't stick and I left for a while. Though Morley's is in a good area of town, might open my shop up near there when I get around to it." When her hand touched the back of his neck it was like electricity ran through his entire body, but only goosebumps arose from his flesh instead of smoke or sparks. He felt his hand start to tremble and swallowed hard. He closed his eyes as her head touched his and took in a slow ragged breath, when he exhaled a small trail of smoke escaped his lips. Max shook himself a little and made a visible effort to slow his breathing before smiling again. Max reached into a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a small remote. It was about then that Moira noticed that though most of Max's place was homely and filled with second hand items, the sound system was top shelf, and wired throughout the entire home. Max hit a button on the remote, then slowly cracked his neck before picking Moira up in his arms and carrying her to a tall kitchen chair. He looked into her eyes without blinking throughout the short trip setting her down gently. "You sit here, turn around so your facing the back of the chair for me," then he slid up a rolling office chair next to Moira as Uptown Funk started to blast from the tactically placed speakers about the home. Maxie pulled out a sharpie and popped the top and made a little throat clearing noise before nodding to Moira's side. "Gonna have to have easy access to that darlin'." Max tried to focus on the work, being professional had never been an issue for him before, but he was finding it more difficult with Moira. Still he soon fell into a trance of sorts while drawing and put every ounce of his talent into the picture. He wanted her to love it, moreso than if it was some stranger, and so it took a bit longer than normal, every sweeping line and blocky corner, every gossamer wing and crackling flame done with the care of a surgeon before finally arching his back and popping it to sit up and look at the finished drawing. "Whatya think?"

Max ventured a hesitant smile at Moira's quip, but his heart wasn't in it. They had shaken off the effects of the last "room" but this hallway made him feel isolated, even though Moira was right behind him. It's dark passages seemed to narrow for a few feet before suddenly coming to a door that ended the hallway altogether. Max couldn't read the writing on the door, it was in a language he didn't recognize. Frustrated he blew out a breath and with it a small gout of fire before shaking his head. "End of the line it looks like," Spitfire said hesitantly before opening the door, "please god don't let it be spiders." The room inside was perplexing. It seemed to be an amalgam of 3 different places. There was one corner which had the obvious signs of a carnival tent, another that looked like his old shop Fire Eater Ink, and the last looked like the entry hall to some extravagant meeting hall. "Damned place can't make up it's mind on what it wants to be," Max scoffed, before he heard a voice from the tent. "Neither can you, it seems boy," a woman, on the small and rotund side but with laugh lines that creased what looked like her entire face, stepped out of the shadows and clucked disapprovingly at Max. "Why'd you leave us Max? Bertram was like a father to you, and I did the best by you I could as a mom. Was it the long hours? Was it the training, or the road? No, I know you boy, you always been lazy. That's what it was, you just quit because you couldn't hack it anymore, you got soft and tired of the good life. You just gave up on us is what you did." "That ain't true Deardra and you know it! I had a gift, and I couldn't just pretend I didn't. People need help, and with my abilities I could help them. That's why I left." "If that were so," Came a man's voice from the grand hall corner, "then why did you leave the city after so short a time? You weren't doing much making a name for yourself as a hero, sure you did a little bit but you never were big league, never even tried to be." The man coalesced into what was more or less a superhero in costume, cape and all. But it was hard to place him, he looked like one of the famous Freedom Leaguers, but it was hard to tell which for some unknown reason. "No, you didn't last long at that either, you ran away, joined the circus again, or just partied your way across country. So much for your high and mighty ideals. Seems Deardra is right about you." "I had my reasons fer leavin'. I was alone ya know. I just wasn't like the rest o' them heroes. Their pristine teeth and smiles, their sparkling outfits and shining ideals. I'm a carnie and no matter how much crime I stopped or how many people I saved that what I was to them. The circus freak who did fire tricks. I wasn't a hero to them, so I figured hell with it. They see me as a carnie that's what I'll be." "Exactly," came yet another voice from the tattoo shop, this voice was a breathy female voice that coalesced into a lithe woman, sitting on a tattoo chair while some faceless man gave her a tattoo what looked like a caricature of Max's face on her right arm. "You quit, you didn't stick it out. Just like you gave up on this shop you spent so much money and time on. Got too hard for you, and now look at you. Crying about how you were treated or how you were seen. You're lazy, and pathetic." The woman's words cut him deep, as all their words did, but what hurt worse was when they all started laughing at him. It rang in his ears like church bells and shook him to his core. A chant slowly started to echo from an unseen chorus that seemed to be in tune with the laughter. "LAZY! QUITTER! CARNIE! FREAK! LAZY! QUITTER! CARNIE! FREAK!..." Max clasped his hands to his ears and started screaming, "Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" His voice rose to a deafening yell and then he turned to the sky and let loose a gout of continuous flame so hot it was nearly white. The flames continued to spill from his mouth from lungs that would have burst in another person, they just kept coming without end. Max's face started to turn red, then purple and tears on his cheeks sizzled and boiled away in an instant.

Initiative: 1d20+3 19 Not bad i guess

Prince Akkar Total: 6 posts Diaspora The Trek Outwards (6) Spitfire Total: 35 Posts Gun Run (5) Gun Run Prologue Part 2 (7) Hell Isn't Good.. It's Hell! (3) Ink! (9) Karaoke Night At Morley's Pub (7) [Lost Expeditions] Castle Ravenloft (4) Bugbear Total: 5 Posts River Rats (5) GM (all go to Spitfire) Total: 10 Posts x 2 = 20 posts I Have Not Yet Begun To Fright! (9) River Rats (1) Guidebook: Illthus (Points go to Spitfire please!)

IC is here! http://www.freedomplaybypost.com/topic/9964-river-rats-ic/ OOC is here! http://www.freedomplaybypost.com/topic/9965-river-rats-ooc/ @Raveled

OOC Thread! Tag it!

September 2017 Bedlam City Corinthian Riverboat in the Babylon District 11:00 PM Declan floated high above the Manitowoc River, gazing down at the Corinthian riverboat Casino. The lights from the riverboat danced on the river, tantalizing passersby with promises of wealth, if one was lucky enough to hit it big. While not as big, or as high profile as it's counterpart, the Heart of Dixie, it did offer something to those of lower station and less than stellar reputations: availability and anonymity. It's the kind of place that looks glitzy and high cotton, but in reality was just another low rent mob front in an already low rent town. The mob in question that owned and operated this particular den of iniquity was called the Scarpias mafia family, and Declan had tracked some of those he believed to be responsible for his death to this place. When he was alive, he had only visited this place once, and didn't stay long as he got pretty drunk and was summarily thrown overboard. That life seemed so long ago now, almost like it belonged to someone else. Perhaps it was a side effect of his being a ghost, he thought, perhaps he was just an echo of what he had been, a soulless revenent sent to exact revenge. He wasn't sure if he believed that, because when he watched Victoria, he still felt that love, and that pain for having left her. Declan shook his ethereal head and descended slowly towards the riverboat. He had come here for a purpose. He had come here for answers. Mostly, he had come here for revenge.

@Raveled Still interested in this? Got busy last few days so was going to start this one today if you want.

Maxie took a moment to himself to simultaneously scourge himself mentally, and then feel relieved she hadn't decided to hate him for what had happened. A weight lifted off of him then, and he sighed, turning to face Moira and standing. "The only thing I'm not ok with is how this went down. This not bein' all our choice. I feel the same as you about this, it is something I've already thought about. I'm also glad you don't hate me for this, and can still look me in the face. Don't know how I'd deal with it otherwise. Tell you what, when we get out of here, which is becoming a more oft repeated statement then I care to admit, we are getting that drink and maybe... doin' this whole thing proper like, on our terms. Sound fair?" Maxie smiled at her and brought her in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her for a brief moment before setting back off into the unknown.

Spitfire jumped at the sound of the voices, and then nearly had a heart attack when an arrow landed near his big toe. He didn't need further prompting, or to understand what was being said. There was yet another new arrival but Maxie had no time to stop and consider that, much less make a proper greeting, instead he grabbed the woman on the ground brandishing a stick and took off running. He knew he ran the risk of being brained and subsequently pin-cushioned by arrows but they had to get out of there and those crutches were not going to be fast enough to do it. "Sorry 'bout this ma'am. You can kill me fer it if we survive." Maxie almost instinctively went to start breathing fire in front of him to start his fire skating routine but thought better of it when he remembered all the dried leaves and flammable stuff around them. Plus whoever was shooting at them would most likely hate having their forest burned down. "Guess we're doin' this the slow way!"

ok Reflex save for Spitfire Reflex save vs arrow: 1d20+10 26 yay! Guess I'll be the one to pick up miss "I hate Demon-wannabe's" So as not to super tick off the elves i will not use my speed power and set the forest on fire. This is me being diplomatic.

Spitfire nodded and put back the beer when she decided on just the orange juice, then decided against it and pulled one out for himself. It wasn't a fancy micro brew but it had alcohol in it, which is good enough for poor southern boy like hisself. When Moira showed him where she wanted the tattoos he almost dropped the glass he had pulled for her orange juice, and was quite proud of himself for a second for not doing it, before she so bluntly mentioned the fire tattoo was for him and then did drop the glass. "Sonuva-" Maxie cursed under his breath. Luckily it hadn't shattered (it was plastic) and there hadn't been anything in it yet to spill. He bent down, berating himself for his fumbling, and picked up the glass, put it in the sink, and got a new glass for her. He filled it with the orange juice and grabbed his beer then handed her the glass. "Moira darlin' I don't know what to say, obviously I'm touched, and more than a little proud. You mean a lot to me too. Which I'm sure is about the most obvious statement I could have made by now. I know I don't say a lot about how I'm feeling unless that feeling is hunger or thirst or just plain orneriness, but, well they're there, those feelings. You should know that. Lord, I should be better at this,." He shook himself and smiled. "Listen to me, I sound like bumblin fool, ramblin' on like that. Now let's see about getting you some proper art on that unblemished tapestry eh?" Maxie picked up the paper once more and looked from it to the midriff, putting the pieces together in his head how they could fit together. A mural, he thought, was a fantastic idea, but tricky. You had to put them in the right order to make sense, to look like a cohesive image and still maintain their separate meanings. It was a challenge he hadn't had in quite some time and he actually started to get excited as he pulled out a sketch pad of his own and started sketching out designs that incorporated all of them. He produced 2 sketches that he thought had promis, the Sleeping Angel and the Pixe side by side and surrounded by fire, he didn't much care for that one, made him think the fire looked like it was burning the other two which felt wrong. The second sketch he liked better, it had the sleeping angel curled up on the ground, the pixie sitting, leaning against a tree, and both were bathed in the light of a roaring campfire sparks coming off where the wood had burst. It felt peaceful to him, the designs were essentially the same as what Moira had given him, just some small tweeks to make it a scene instead of just symbols. He still wasn't sure about it though, maybe a third one. "These are just drafts, thought i'd throw somethin' together for you to look at, tell me what you think. Don't think you gotta take em as is cuz you don't, you can say you don't like either of em, and that's fine. This kind of tattoo, your first, it means a lot, and if you ain't happy with it, you will regret it and never get another one. And I need more excuses to see you so we don't want that." Maxie laughed and winked at her. "If you got a specific vision in mind on how to put these together then tell me and i'll see what I can doodle up."