Hellbound

Notice -- Hellbound is deliberately lowering his defense to zero for Moira's sparring against his hands. He's not avoiding the blows, and will probably even move his palms so that they'd hit solidly. He's evaluating her abilities at this point, not trying to avoid the shots.

"If ya' hurt me?" Hellbound chuckled. "Yeah, I'd like to see you try..." He was interrupted by the blow, which landed with far more force that he'd been expecting. Fortunately, he hadn't locked his elbow, otherwise Moira might have had a shot at breaking his arm. The fighter was both pleasently surprised and brilliantly amazed by her power. Granted, she had problems with her stance and telegraphed that punch badly enough that a blind man could have seen it coming, but she'd still struck a more than solid blow. Moira could already clean up in SuperSlams, but get the girl a little confidence in her prowess and teach her how to stand and she might even give him a run for his money. "Okay, not bad... not bad." Hellbound grinned, shaking his hand while trying to keep her from noticing how badly it stung. "Maybe you got potential after all, I've been wrong before. But why don't we try a few more? Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke?" Hellbound raised his hands once more, this time taking the exercise a little more seriously and prepared for the superhumanly strong punches.

Okay, 'nudder combat question has come up. What's the most amount of damage that a character can take without actually feeling it or being moved by it? Hellbound has an Imipervious Toughness of +10. Would he even feel something that did 10 or less damage, or does it all depend on what he throws on the save?

Hellbound felt a touch of surprise at the show of tenderness. Here he was prepped for taking a hard shot to the jaw, but what he got instead was a beautiful girl's head layed against his chest. To say that his body had been thrown off its equilibrium was an understatement. Shifting gears from fight-mode to something he was less prepared for also had other influences on parts of his body, but fortunately he hadn't worn some of his more form-fitting jeans for the evening. "Ah, yeah..." He tried to regain his balance as Moira picked her head up. Hellbound looked into her eyes as she offered an alternative demonstration and cleared his throat as he tried to think straight. "Yeah, okay, so you're wanting me to teach you how to fight but you're afraid to hit me? I'm pretty sure it doesn't really work that way, but I'll humor you for once. Don't hit me in the head, just... here." He held his arms straight out with just a slight bend to the elbows. His palms were facing Moira and his feet were set in a bracing stance. "Just the palms, then. A few quick jabs. I promise not to break."

"Oh, what, you mean like a nail?" Hellbound grinned amusedly at the girl. There was simply no way that he could accept the possibility of a pretty thing like her being able to hurt a guy like him. It was going to take a full physical demonstration to teach him the reality of such a delusion. "Sorry 'bout that, Moe. I know how tough it is to try puttin' a dent into this pretty face of mine, but the least you could do is give it your best shot." He'd decided that the nickname Moe didn't roll of his tongue as harshly as he'd thought it would. Moira probably ended up being called 'Red' all the time. It was a better bet that Hellbound could find some more memorable status with something more unique.

Ah, that's the trick, isn't it? If Hellbound were a more established hero then he could be there on some sort of official business. As a relative unknown and thuggish pugilist, however, it's not very likely that he'd be on site. However, he could be relatively close at hand and in position to respond to a threat. If there are tourist-type ferries that come close to the island or even decent fishing waters then he might be nearby. If the adventure ends up being noisy enough once trouble starts then he might be able to hitch a ride out there. This really depends on the sort of trouble the scene is likely to have, anyway. If it's akin to an unfriendly E.T. or extra-dimensional invasion then Hellbound might be good to have around. If it's more of a stop-the-reactor-before-it-blows plot, on the other hand, then he wouldn't have much to do there anyway. Depending on how things go, this could be a good way to get him introduced to the city as a genuine defender. So far, he's not actually done anything to put him into the 'hero' column. 'Might be nice to start chalking up some saves and get a little good press to his name.

Works for me -- Hellbound would be interested in fighting a threat from beyond the stars, if that's what you're thinking. We'd have to come up with a reason for him to be hanging out at the SCC, however.

Hellbound drew back in surprise at the interruption, uncrossing his arms and making room for Steph. Unless she was superhuman as well, then getting the chipper girl caught between the two was likely to be a bad idea. It sounded like Jack did fast work. The earlier conversation implied that he'd put down some ground work into the deal, but they'd only just showed up to the party before the pair was running off. To some extent he was surprised that he was leaving with only the one blond on his arm, but to each his own. "Tell Jack to get a hold of me, later." Hellbound called after the departing Steph. "We'll talk about my career." With that taken care of, he turned back to Moira and asked "Now where were we?"

Ah, yes, Hellbound is offering Moira one free shot on him. He wants to see what she's got, and if she takes it she better make it a good one. It's probably the only one she'll ever get... for free, at least. ;)

"Ah, yeah... ya' see..." Hellbound watched the seemingly mortal woman move the tree easily. It was an impressive feat, he had to admit. "You didn't tell me you could do that, now did you?" She was strong, but he wasn't sure just exactly how strong. The fallen wood must have weighed several hundred pounds at least, and it would have required far more force to drive it back into the ground than simply lift it, but that didn't always mean everything. He'd ran into strongmen before who lacked the fast-twitch fiber needed to be anything more than walking trash compactors. They could lift, sure, and push things around, but when it came to throwing out a punch or dodging they were hopeless. Just because Moira could haul a tree around that didn't mean she had what it took to be a fighter. Clearly there were some things in her background that he had been oblivious too (granted... he'd only known her for an hour or so at the most by now), so maybe there was far more to this chick than he'd expected. "But my grandma could plant trees, too. Didn't mean she wanted to spar with me." Actually, he had no idea who his grandmother was, at least not his real one, but he wanted to draw out more of the girl's personality. Before he either said yes or laughed in her face, he wanted to know who she was and what she could do. Hellbound crossed his arms over his chest and stepped up close to her. He smelled like a locker-room shower and cheap shampoo, the faded memory of sweat and blood from the ring lurked beneath the pungent, surface odor of his living cigar. He stayed a hair's breadth from Moira, not quite touching her but also standing well inside her comfort zone. It was a personal distance that seemed to issue a challenge on more than one level. "So exactly how hard did they say you hit?"

Hellbound had been in this position before. Many times, fans and groupies managed to catch up with the young fighter and pull his attention away from the crowd. He liked where such walks usually lead, and in his mind he was already exploring the subtle curves of his current companion. When they came to a halt, Hellbound put a hand against Moira's tree and leaned in closely to listen. His arm was near her without making contact and he seemed able to take in her scent, a wild and exotic aroma. That might have been her perfume, residue from the bonfire still crackling visibly through the trees or it could have just been plain-old-fashioned lust in the fighter, but he was fairly certain he'd never smelled anything like it. He interrupted, only once, during her pause with a quiet 'yeah?' His head was closer to hers at the time and he leaned in, expecting only the best to come out of her mouth next, and almost missed the question that had actually be asked rather than the one forming in his head. "...what?" Hellbound muttered in disjointed confusion. His hand slipped along the tree bark keeping him propped up and he stumbled for just a moment as he rapidly switched mental gears. "You want me to... what?" He asked, rhetorically. O'ren had heard her correctly, but there was a part of his brain that just wasn't excepting it. Humor seemed to form in his voice as he spoke next. "... no... no, I don't think that'd be a good idea. I mean, I aint exactly Billy Blanks over here. I punch out cinder blocks for frag's sake." Demonstrably, he drew back the hand which had nearly let him fall and shot it forward as a fist. Hellbound's blow landed solidly against the tree a good foot or so from Moira's head, but the impact was felt clearly. The wood seemed to resonate deeply from it and a fair depression had been left around his knuckles. "I hit a normal human being like that? They're probably not gonna do well. 'Might be better to hit one of the self-defense classes they teach downtown, you know?"

Hellbound watched the exchange between jack and his friend with curiosity. Without knowing the relationship between the two, it wasn't really any of his business how they handled each other. For all he knew, Jack had a perfectly good reason for stepping on the girl's buzz. When Moira asked him to wander off by themselves, he muttered an amused comment about everyone wanting a piece of Hellbound before looking to see that Steph would be okay. He wasn't completely comfortable with leaving her hanging all by herself, but if she didn't mind then neither would he. It seemed that she was still keeping close to Jack, so once satisfied that the other girl wasn't going to wander off and get into trouble, he headed out with Moira. "So what's up, Red?" He'd degenerated back into using her nickname. The only alternative that he could really come up with for Moira was a simple 'Moe', and she really didn't have the right haircut for that.

I'm not sure what our timeline's intended to be, but let's assume warm weather regardless. Snow and ice don't make for great river-side soirée seasons...

I have some confusion going on regarding a few aspects of M&M combat. After taking a moment to get over the image of two pieces of candy in Roman gladiator garb, please let me know how the following three concepts work if you have the time/understanding: Total Defense Dodging Defensive Stance Okay...page 159 of the core rules describes the Total Defense combat action as sacrificing your attack in exchange for a +4 to your Dodge Bonus. Okay, that makes sense. I decide to spend my time getting out of harms way so I see a nice return on my leaping about like a frightened bunny. Got it. However, page 161 displays a chart of Defense Modifiers which lists something called Dodging. Is that a reference to taking the Total Defense action, is is there listed an actual Dodge that a character can perform on top of that? I'm not sure why they would have listed Total Defense as Dodging, but the game doesn't seem to be 100% consistant in its terminology in all cases. Further, there is the Defensive Stance modifier that can grant up to an additonal +1 dodge bonus for each -2 Attack (up to a total dodge bonus of +2), that a player declares. Can this be stacked on top of Dodge/Total Defense? I'd have to guess that... no, don't be stupid, you can't do that... but I'm not seeing clarity in the rules at the moment. Further, when can all of this be declared and/or swapped around? Can a player declare a defensive stance on his opponents turn and then switch to an aggressive stance on his own? I'm not entirely sure of the timing as to when declarations have to be declared. Any help on this subject would be appreciated.

"Dunno." He put an honest answer to Jack's question. "Whoever's dumb enough to get in the ring." It hadn't occurred to Hellbound to put effort into setting up his fights. He was pretty happy just encountering foes randomly in the ring, it gave him a nice variety of people to beat on. Certainly, actually scheduling matches might create greater opportunity for profit, however... As they came up on the scene, the first thing they noticed was the brilliant and warm light of a bonfire. There was a thin windbreak of trees surrounding the locale, but firelight could still be seen dancing beyond the trunks. A dirt road broke off from the asphalt they'd been traveling which lead downwards towards the river and the cab, following directions gleaned from the flyer, pulled off onto it. Loud music became obvious and could probably be heard clearly a good mile or two away. There was obvious reason why the ravers wanted to come out this far, the city probably didn't hold a spot private enough for them to make quite this much noise without incident. The dirt road turned into well traveled sand which led them through a grassy parking area carved into the surrounding trees. Cars of all descriptions and price tags occupied every conceivable square inch they could and even spilled out into the still-untraveled spots of the wood. The place was packed with party-lovers and, if the vehicles were any judge, they came from a lot of different walks of life. As they continued to pull closer to the rave, shadowed figures could be seen moving around in the glow of the massive bonfire. Flames reached a good ten or fifteen feet into the air and the entire beach was lit up by smoky, hypnotizing light. Techno music with electronically tortured lyrics and a bone-rattling bass drive seemed to reach inside of the group and become them to come closer. A big, white van had been pulled onto the curving, secluded beach and a D.J. setup spilled out from the rear double-doors. There was a wild logo on the side which proclaimed them to be members of the Porta-Party crew (Good Times for Hire), with stacks of CDs and a complex digital audio rig surrounded the boy working the spins. He had at least one tech buzzing around him following directions, but it was difficult to tell what all they were doing with the crowd that'd been gathered. A large number of people gathered around the D.J. to get watch him work. Far more were moving in frenetic motion around the bonfire itself in a modern scene of expressive dance. Glow sticks and other accouterments could be seen spinning in the mix of light and shadow while knots of people gathered around random coolers and grills spaced at the edge of the fire's effect. It looked like everyone who couldn't get into a club tonight had gathered for the party and there were clearly people from every cultural aspect represented. Some clearly had money to throw at the latest fashions as they were dressed sharply in the trend-of-the-week, while others seemed to have just thrown things on at random before showing up. There were the stereotypical rainbow-bright ravers of the late '90s along with the more modern interpretations of that bygone era. One thing was clear as they made their exits from the cab, however. No matter what walk of life someone seemed to have come from, all were welcome and the whole crowd seemed to mix without incident. "See, man?" Hellbound proudly proclaimed as he exited and put his foot into the soft sand of the beach. He struck a match in the semi-darkness and put it to a cigar which had appeared, almost as if by magic, in his mouth. "Now this is what I call a fraggin' party!"

...is laying background imagery for what he'd just said about finding people bigger than him to fight. ...is laying background imagery for whatever is to be said next. Hellbound didn't continue rambling on about his childhood memories, but I also didn't want the conversation to come crashing to a halt simply because we're close enough to hear music. So, basically, I'm just throwing a few environmental references in now and then.

"Same thing happens when you experience it, too." O'ren admitted. "Not just when you see it, but I'm not sure I'm the best person to go by. I've pretty much been into the rough stuff for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I swear my earliest memories are about me finding someone bigger than myself to pick a fight with." The road continued to pass by as he talked and looked out into the night. It was dark hours like this that he liked to stare into the shadows and wonder who his parents were. Hellbound had, for all that he knew, been born with his powers. Without understanding where he'd come from, though, there was no way to know why. But that was hardly proper conversation for a group of people heading towards a party. As the cab cruised along, eventually the passengers could hear the first thrumming beats of some over sized set of bass speakers.

"Heh... money's crap. But there are more important things in life than money, you know?" Actually, one of those more important things was not having to bum rides from people or walk everywhere. He might be the reinging poster boy of SuperSlams at the moment, but that didn't mean they were ever going to pay him what he was worth. And it wasn't like he'd ever see an endorcement deal out of the quasi-legal fight club scene. Hellbound's eyes glazed a bit as he considered his lot and stared out the window. Maybe there was something to this whole 'having someone work for you' thing that a good agent could put behind him? "Yeah, whatever. How about you, Red? Whatcha come out for, tonight? Can't be just to get out of the house, you could do that at any club downtown and not worry about getting hit witha broken tooth."

Hellbound's arm was rock solid as it welcomed Moira, making him seem strong as an anvil and twice as dense. Despite this solidity, though, he didn't show even a hint of clumsiness. His footsteps seemed lighter than they should and he moved with a grace and confidence that was almost inhuman. Once in the cab, and the question regarding his career choices had been posed, Hellbound had to laugh. "You gotta be kidding me, right?" He was leaning, casually, against his door while one arm dangled from the cab in the wind. Night air whipped past them all as they drove through the starlight peace of their little-used utillity road. "Where else can a guy like me go to have fun and not get thrown in jail? I mean, besides putting on a cape and wearing my underwear on the outsides of my tights? Bust heads like that on the street and eventually I'll end up sitting in a very small room with very little to do. "This way, I not only get to meet dudes willing to get tossed around for a while, but I get paid for it at the same time." It was harsh outlook on life, perhaps, but something from the way he spoke almost made it seem like a prepared speech. Hellbound certainly didn't seem like the type to randomly assualt someone in the street even without the threat of jailtime. There was no doubting that he loved what he did, but at the same time that he also had enough self-discipline not to get carried away with the role. "So I poked around to see who was letting metas fight without laying a ton of regs on 'em, and that's what I got. But what about you guys? What brought you out to watch a bunch of us mooks knock each other around like that?"

Tightly packed works. The main concept is that the scientists who made him couldn't figure out how to get that level of strength and durability without jacking up his weight. His dense cellular structure probably goes along with muscle groups that are more tightly packed than in a normal human. Oh, and... D'OH!

1d20+4=14 Sense Motive roll for Hellbound's Assessment of Jack's combat abilities.

Hellbound was comfortable under Moira's scrutiny. After all, he tended to attract a lot of attention no matter where he went and his ego was large enough to accomodate. The fighter almost seemed to behave like some overconfident rooster who basked in the limelight rather than shrank from it. As she made her considerations, though, he was performing his own assessment of Jack . Hellbound remembered the deceptively strong grip that the man had demonstrated and wondered what, exactly, was lurking beneath the human veneer. O'ren himself came off as pretty human in most circustances, but he was certainly stronger than he looked. The shoulder had felt as solid as granite and about as dense during the brief period of contact and his performance in the ring reflected that strength. As they walked, he held his arm out in an inviting way for Moira, almost as if it were waiting for her to step into it and wrap comfrotably around her waist.

Hellbound had been caught smoothing back his hair by the question. The unkempt mane was acting stubborn and not wanting to behave despite the dampness. It wasn't often that people asked him his real name, for the most part they stuck with his more public version. "Hellbound usually does me just fine, and most people eventually admit that it fits, but my friends call me O'ren." Which was strange as he didn't look much like an 'Ishi'. "What about you? 'Red work fine for now, or did I hear your friend Jack call you something more official?"

Maybe Hellbound should throw a Sense Motive against Moira before he gets the wrong idea... oops, too late :D

Hellbound noticed the exchange between Moira and Steph, but wasn't sure what it was about. Just exactly what was she supposed to ask him, and why was she having problems coming up with the words? He wanted to tell her that a girl who looked like she did could ask him just about anything, but he knew that wasn't going to get them to the party any sooner. Well... he supposed that depended on a person's definition of 'party'. "So what do you say, Jack?" He asked the man in black. "You got a ride, or are we gonna have to ask the old lady up there for the keys?" Certainly the term 'old lady' was simply a gross appellation rather than an accurate descriptive. The was no way Hellbound could know the true age of the undead queen who was watching their conversation.