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Lost my defensive roll, and because I forgot to take my bruised penalty to the roll, I'm now staggered. There's not a window in this room, is there?

As the punch connected, all the air was knocked out of him and he reeled backwards gasping for breath.

"None here," said Arrowhawk, going to follow the two while tightening straps and buckles on his belt and quiver.

Yeah, my rolls are getting pretty horrific... maybe I could run away like a little girl? :D

"Cool, let's go through," wandering through into Darian's hangar. "So... did you build this place yourself?" he said a little weakly.

Doesn't it fade to +1 after the 3 rounds, before going out completely? Not that it could have improved much there...

Quickly rolling with the blow, Arrowhawk's attempt at a feint was interrupted just enough to be rendered pointless. Who needs finesse, anyway? The hero brought his knee up in a quick jab to his foe's groin, missing as his opponent easily stepped back away from the move.

"Well, you could save the others by not piddling about in spirit form," muttered Arrowhawk, climbing up onto the sill with the woman and clinging to both her and the side of the building. "Ok, bring her down."

"Oooooooooooh.... sorry," says Chris, looking pensively upwards. "So, where did it just go? Simple teleport, or dimension travel?" Yeah, sounding real professional. Woot!

Unable to hold on, the bow is flung clear out of Arrowhawk's hands, but the costumed man continues forwards anyway. "Considering I don't use my bow as a crutch like you do your powers..." he said, turning his forwards momentum into a vicious punch towards the man's head. "Probably better!"

I can't beat it with a Strength bonus of +3, so bye-bye! Also, that attack roll should be 26 due to the roll being only 6.

Chris pulled out a remote, pressed a few buttons, and pulled back a joystick. The whole ship rose and disappeared into the silvery portal. "Voila?"

Arrowhawk ponders for a brief second, before answering. "I have no superpowers at all, so all my capabilities are experience from eighteen years of crime-fighting. I have some skill in stealth, intel-gathering and planning, and am well-schooled in both archery, as my name implies, and a mish-mash of martial arts and other fighting styles. I also construct and use simple equipment, like high-tech arrows and grappling guns." "I came here for a few reasons. I came to Freedom City to battle orgainsed crime, so my reasons for coming here today were to test my skills and meet other crime-fighters in the area. Taking some guilty pleasure in trying to out-do Bowman at his own game might factor into it as well," he smiles under his hood.

Wednesday to Friday, I will be away on my trip to Glasgow. Immoral acts are possible. :D

"Hold on!" Arrowhawk called, the smoke beginning to affect him despite his rebreather. "Ma'am, I need you to help me in getting you out to my friend." He gave her a leg up and held her hand as she leaned out of the window waiting for rescue. "Lullaby, it's getting really hot in here!" Flames were getting dangerously close to his legs. Damn, this is not going to end well for me, is it?

Chris takes the top three pizza boxes. "Here, let me give you a hand," he says, "Thanks for calling back." "So, you said you wanted a look at the Pitchoo?" he asked, sweeping a hand in gesture at the green ship floating a short distance off the ground.

I can't slug it out for long here, I need to take him down fast. Arrowhawk pulls an arrow with an unusually large round head and fires it straight at his opponent, the arrow exploding into a tough net upon impact.

I'm upset that I rolled a 2. :cry:

Continuing his hail of arrows, Arrowhawk's aim is put off as a blow to the big guy knocked him backwards, skewing his aim to the point where the shots were poorly aimed. Dammit, John, amateur mistake!

"Hi," says Arrowhawkto the girl in the yellow bodysuit, "It's Velocity, isn't it? I'm Arrowhawk." He extends a hand in welcome, a sincere smile visible under his hood.

I made a mistake in my roll, missing out the Master Plan so it should be 31 for that attack roll. That... autofire attack roll. :D

Seeing his opponent stunned, Arrowhawk planted both feet squarely and began firing off a series of arrows in rapid succession at the hired thug.

"Gaaaaaah, dammit," swore Chris, as co-ordinates came up on the GPS and the autopilot kicked in. "Why didn't I remember to turn you off!" Quickly flicking a switch, the ship ceased moving causing him to fall over and hit his head off of the chair. "DAAAAAAAAAMMIT!" A note had appeared on the computer screen. Aaaah, he replied with directions. And pizza. I like pizza. "now what to do for an hour and a half!" he said, pulling himself up from his knees in one quick jump. And thus it came to be that a teenager in green spandex spent over an hour flying around, high over the city in a green flying machine before turning on the autopilot and landing near Darian's house. Grabbing a jacket to throw on over his costume and stuffing his mask in the pocket, he wandered out of the exit hatch and sent to a parking position a few feet off the ground. There came a small beep as he turned on the central locking system.

Quark and Geckoman flying around on a whirlwind adventure!

This thread is set chronologically after this thread, despite it being ongoing at the time of posting. The Pitchoo hovered up in the sky over bay, Chris Kenzie sitting around in his costume without the mask on. Some Seether was playing in the background. He liked to listen to music while he flew around, usually loudly. But he twiddled a knob on the dashboard and pulled a lever, allowing the chair to swivel around while he took out his cell phone. That Darian guy had seemed pretty cool, maybe he should take him up on that answer. Bloody voicemail! he cursed as the phone politely asked him to leave a message after the tone. God, he hated the tone. It seemed to be designed to annoy people. Who designed the tone for voicemail? Really? I'll go aft.... oh damn, I think it toned. "Hey, Darian? It's Chris. I'm just flying around just now, thought you might want to come take a ride? Call me back, thanks, bye" He went to hang up, before thinking twice and bringing the mouthpiece back up. "Bring pizza." Reclining in his chair, he turned the music back up again. Very peaceful up here he thought, pulling a Coca-Cola out from a mini-fridge he'd plugged into the cigarette lighter and grabbing a set of blueprints he'd left on the floor. "Personal flight harness?Ooooh, the next wave in fashionable transport." Taking a sip, he began to go over the blueprints, suspended over the clear blue bay in his green flying machine.