Lord Fell

:cry: :cry: :cry: The video link is no longer loading properly. ...I hadn't wondered what would happen... but now I do.

Pompadour smiled broadly. "Ah, my reputation, or at least my hair, proceeds me." Pompadour stepped inside Thunder's place glancing around curiously. He had a sports bag over one shoulder, and a pair of Gatorades in one hand. "You can call me Pomp, for short. I don't use any other name these days. How should I call you?" Glancing down at the floor "and am I supposed to take my shoes off?"

Pompadour's hair drove the first two beer demons up against the roof, crushing them there, and he felt them go limp in his hair's brutal grasp. While distracted, the 3rd imp darted in from the flank. The Beer Demon's bottle smacked into Pompadour, with all the effect of a rolled up newspaper against a Kodiak bear. Pomp dropped the first two demons he'd vanquished with a dual flop, and turned a baleful glare at his assailant. A massive coil of hair formed above Pompadour, swelling into the shape of an anvil the size of a small pony. The unwieldly lock smashed into the unoffending tiles of the store, as the imp skipped out of harms way. Pompadour snarled in frustration, and backed away from the demon, extending his hair defensively.

I failed my first toughness save by 10, So I'm burning an HP to reroll. DC20 Toughness Save (1d20+7=15) [+10 for under 10 =25] Hair strike against Minion. (1d20+4=10)

Pompadour sipped his champagne and eyed the other man in a domino mask. Where the hell do I know him from? Before tonight, you've only met three superheroes, and he ain't one of them... so you must know him as a civilian? Mr. Discrete? I don't think I've heard of him... but I shouldn't have, if he doesn't suck. Maybe he's an investigator? Checked up on me? Maybe? Pompadour barked out a laugh. "A slipped through a crack into a crack house. Awesome-sauce." He reached out to take Grimalkin's hand, briefly brushing his lips across the back. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Grimalkin, I'm Pompadour." Turning to Thunderstanding, Pompadour does an exotic little foot shuffle, ending in a martial-arts style bow -somewhat marred by the half-full champagne glass he is still holding. "Sifu... Perhaps later you'll show me if you dance as well as you fight." Pompadour glanced at Mr. Discrete while listening to Dark Star's endorsement, but did not greet the enigmatic... guest. Pompadour sipped again from his diminishing champagne supply, as he listed to the talk of street crime and vigilantism. "I'm not saying Avenger's a bad guy. When we worked together the first thing he asked me to do was clear the innocent bystanders. Priorities tell the tale there. But, I'm not sure if that style of heroism is doing much good against problems where the root cause is poverty. If my economics isn't completely faulty, taking 10% of the drug supply off the streets just pushes up the price by 10%. Half the people caught up in that cycle of crime are victims, not perpetrators... On the other hand, if I had a better idea on how to handle that type of crime, I wouldn't be keeping it to myself, that's for sure. I'm far more comfortable with dropping some dumb-ass trying to steal money from a bank... there's no grey area there to warp my mind." Pompadour tosses back the last of his champagne, and nods in the general direction of the bar, before drifting that way.

Ah. Here was a power he was confident in. He sauntered up to the first group, and as he began to talk to them about the horrors of gingivitis, they began to shift uncomfortably... one lad began to run his fingers over his gums in a worried fashion. Finally, the vast majority of the group fell on their knees, promising to brush, floss, see the dentist and pray to the Tooth Fairy. click "17 Seconds!" Dr. Williams called out. Pompadour frowned as he headed to the next group. 17 seconds? That doesn't sound very good. I usually work a lot faster than that. He stopped in front of the next group, turned on his heel to face them, and leveled his finger at them. "Drugs are bad, m'kay?" The group of techs started from his pointed, accusing finger, then scrambled to their feet and bolted. "4 seconds!" Tha's right. Who da man? Pompadour was already concentrating furiously as he approached the third group. He noticed that they seemed to be all women. When he came to a full stop, he merely raised his eyebrow slightly. The combined weight of the women drove him to the floor almost instantly. He turned his power off immediately, but he could already hear two of the women fighting over his shirt, which seemed to be missing. "uh... 1 second?" The good Doctor didn't seem entirely sure. There was a brief pause while someone ran down to the gift shop to find Pompadour an Albright Institute T-shirt. Pompadour eyed the last bunch. They seemed a surly, stoic bunch, and predominantly male. This calls for a speech! After pulling on the T-Shirt, Pompadour walked over to face the final group. Striking a pose, he began to orate, right from the diaphragm. In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe. Now the trumpet summons us again -- not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need -- not as a call to battle, though embattled we are -- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation," a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself. Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort? In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility -- I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it. And the glow from that fire can truly light the world. And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man. Pompadour turned to the Doctor, who was misty-eyed himself. "I called it at 22 seconds, but I didn't want to interrupt you... and thank you."

Counting rolls until failure. (1d20+0=17, 1d20+0=16, 1d20+0=7, 1d20+0=14, 1d20+0=8, 1d20+0=14, 1d20+0=18, 1d20+0=16, 1d20+0=5, 1d20+0=20) 3rd rounds Counting rolls until failure (1d20+3=5, 1d20+3=18, 1d20+3=13, 1d20+3=16, 1d20+3=17, 1d20+3=7, 1d20+3=13, 1d20+3=11, 1d20+3=23, 1d20+3=22) 1st round Counting rolls until failure. (1d20+6=13, 1d20+6=23, 1d20+6=8, 1d20+6=18, 1d20+6=17, 1d20+6=25, 1d20+6=20, 1d20+6=20, 1d20+6=19, 1d20+6=24) 1st round Counting rolls until failure (1d10+10=15, 1d10+10=17, 1d10+10=14, 1d10+10=11, 1d10+10=15, 1d10+10=16, 1d10+10=11, 1d10+10=19, 1d10+10=20, 1d10+10=17) 4 rounds

Pompadour turned to take the walking, sparkly shadow's hand "Death... er, Dark Star." Given the inherent problems with shaking hands with an insubstantial man, Pompadour's awkward smile escalated slightly and he turned towards Ace Danger instead, "Ace." "Having a party for heroes to network is genius. It's the sort of thing my agent would have had me do, if I had the big name draw. I definitely hope to make some contacts that I'll be confident to call after tonight. I had a chance to work with Mercy and Avenger, so far..." Pompadour frowns as he sips champagne. He has stopped scanning the party for more interesting people to talk to, giving the host his full attention. "That team-up with Avenger though... entirely impromptu. I don't understand crime in The Fens, and that means I can't judge, but I need to be image conscious, and that sort of vigilantism isn't the image that I want to fit into."

Eh. Pompadour has a history of totally misreading people (irony -he thinks he's good at it). Of course it might also be flattery... if he bumped into Elizabeth Taylor, he'd probably tell her she didn't look over 40 either. Is Nyrath going to return to this thread? Despite causing a stink about bringing two characters, I didn't intend to chase him away. I just had a... legitimate concern about logistics. I'm sorry if I made him feel unwelcome... I know I'm a bastard, but I'm working on it.

They should still be notified.

I'd say the person running the thread. If the person who dreamed up the thread, and put it in motion has a problem with it, that should put an end to it right there. Then sending a Ref notification just to keep everything on the up and up.

Wednesday, June 3rd, 2009 Mandy's plan sounded pretty reasonable to Pompadour. He could handle himself against a typical tough guy, but if he wanted to actually get into the hero-game, he needed actual skills. He was on his way to see someone who could teach him practical fighting technique, in a superhuman world. He got turned around a few times, on his way to the address Mandy had gave him, and he'd be running late, if only she hadn't insisted he get their half an hour early. As it was, he ended up knocking on the (warehouse?) door, 7 minutes before 1 o'clock, which was when his appointment was.

Ok. Did you ever date your training session?

Well, the lifting thing is probably something that the tug-o-war was able to measure, so that's not a problem. Pompadour is specifically interested in how durable he is. Again, not something that would require a lot of testing... a glance at his sheet says Toughness 8, impervious 3... which makes him completely immune to most small arms, and larger calibre weapons would have a tough time hurting him. He'd just like someone who's all Smartified to tell him that all official-like. I'm not sure if you need to change your testing for that or not... and to be honest, I could certainly add that detail to his test results whether we specifically test it or not.

Pompadour allowed himself to be lead over to the refreshment table, stripping off his T-Shirt as he goes. One of the techs, apparently a female one, lets out an appreciative whistle. Pompadour pours two glasses of water over himself, causing more feminine murmurs from the squad of techs. Pompadour picks up a stack of sugar cookies, and begins to munch on them, while considering the Doctor (who is busy frowning at the techs). "I don't know that I'd say I am intending to be a hero. That might be putting the cart before the horse. Right now, I'm just looking to see if I got the goods." Pompadour is going through the cookies fairly rapidly now. The appreciative tech seems to have gotten her mind back on business, and the murmuring has ceased. "I mean, I know I have super powers, but I don't know if that means I can afford to get lippy to someone pointing a gun at me. I'd like to know where I'm at before I rush into anything." "My agent actually suggested it to me last week. She figures being a Superhero will raise my profile, which is the best free marketing available. I haven't actually said aye or nay yet, but maybe that doesn't matter. In the last two weeks, I've fought a Thunder God and a half-dozen demons. I think, maybe, having super powers draws trouble to a person. If there's a test you can devise to measure that effect, I'd take it."

I'd still like to see Players get permission before it was done... and once we stick a fork in this thread, have something official scribbled into the books.

Pompadour sipped his champagne, his brows furrowed in thought. OK, he's actually serious about being 2500 years old... wait, he says Daedalus is even older. So... Grandpappy wasn't just senile? Or is this guy grasping at anything that would lend credence to his claim? Of course, that whole Underworld invasion thing sort of means Hades exists, so... "That... blows my mind, actually." Taking another sip, Pompadour's eyes scan the room. "Ah! It looks like our host is heading this way... with... some sort of Shadow Man following him." Pompadour searched his memory. I think I know that guy... name starts with a D... Death Star? Heh... but, no... His eyes catch a new arrival, who's outfit causes him to snort champagne. "G-Money in da Hizzouse!"

Not too late to edit your post to reflect that Ace isn't actually talking to you (us) yet. ...I'm a little confused as to why it would matter if Nyrath agrees with something to do with your character or not. He's your character, not Nyrath's.

For the first time, Pompadour availed himself to the refreshment table. The first glass of water, he chugged. He tossed the empty plastic cup into the waste basket with a satisfied aaaaaaaaaaaah! followed by a raucous belch. The second glass was poured into his hair... which seemed to merely absorb the fluid. Finally, Pompadour tucked into a third glass of water, drinking it at a more sedate pace while nibbling a sugar cookie. Brushing the sugar off his hands, he listens to the Doctor's instructions while eying the "tug-o-war" machine. "Alright, Doc! Let's do this." Pomp settled his feet into position, and gripped the tow cable. His hair lashes out with a whip-crack, forming a three-point anchor behind him, as well as wrapping around the cable. The first stage gives him little difficulty. Starting out strong, he keeps the power indicator in the green easily. It dips briefly into the yellow before he redoubles his efforts and drags it back up into the green. Stage Two begins, and Pompadour lets out a big breath and locks in his grip. Again, he starts out strong keeping the indicator in the green easily... but it dips into the yellow... and continues to drop. As the Indicator touches the red-line, Pompadour screams out "Nyear-aaarrrggh!" Tendons stretch in his neck and arms, as he manfully drags the indicator solidly back into the green. Pompadour takes a few minutes to massage his arms and neck before settling himself in for Stage Three. The indicator starts green, but in tiny skips and large leaps descends into the yellow, and finally into the red. Pompadour frowns, and shrugs... motions for Stage Four to continue. Perhaps not unexpectedly, a massive "tearing" sound is heard, as Pompadour's hair is pulled free of the ground it was sticking too. A split second later, the tow-cable has completely retracted, and Pompadour is hanging in the air from the pulling apparatus. He drops down to the ground with a rueful laugh. "Yeah... I sort of figured that last one was gonna be a bit too much for me."

Tug-o-War, DC 15 (1d20+9=18, 1d20+9=12, 1d20+9=25) 2 successes. Tug-o-War DC 20 (1d20+9=29, 1d20+9=11, 1d20+9=13) 1 success HP to reroll fail vs. DC20 (+10 on roll under 10) (1d20+9=25) 2nd success Tug-o-War DC 25 (1d20+9=16, 1d20+9=24, 1d20+9=11) No Successes. DC30 -Success not possible. I was sort of hoping for something that would document Pompadour's lifting capacity, both normally and with hair... but that's probably as easy as looking up my numbers from the character sheet...

Pompadour has a host of different ethnicities in his background. Not sure if it's here or over on ATT, but I've mentioned that Pompadour's grandfather is Greek, and claimed that Daedalus was the figure out of Greek Mythos. That isn't to say that Pompadour isn't just humouring Grandpa... and quite possibly the Spartan too. Pompadour is so blase about the Spartan's claim of immortality, not so much because he believes it, but is suspending disbelief -it's a super hero party after all.

I see Speed of Thought as more of a "predictive + preparedness" than actual speed of movement. Eg: the kidnapper masquerading as an encyclopedia salesman reaches into his sales-trunk, to pull out a big tranquilizer to use... but when he turns around his quarry is gone! Spinning around again, he's just in time to flinch before being slammed into his open trunk. "You should have known better than to trick Dr. Stephan Hawking you cretin! Ah-ah-ah." Slammed with powered wheel-chair, and dissed by a type & speak voice synthesizer... terrible for the street cred.

Bendigeidfran -Ace is bringing Dark Star over to see us, provided that DS agrees to be brought.

Pompadour regarded the ancient Greek. "2500 years is a long, damn time. I've heard some strange myths and maybe biblical stuff... that Cain was marked by God, and cursed to walk the Earth until the end of days. Or stuff like that Highlander show, immortals wandering around. Are there a bunch of you guys that have been wandering around since the dark ages?" Pompadour sipped his champagne and frowned. "Seems to me my grandfather told me that the Daedalus that's active now is the same one that was active when he was a boy. He does look the same age now as he did when I was a toddler. Is he an immortal too?" Pompadour seems fairly blase about the prospect of talking to an eternal man... internet exposure, movies, TV, comic books... seems like nothing shocks young people these days. Or, perhaps he's just too distracted to really grasp what he's hearing. His eyes continue to scan the party, perhaps looking for the next person he should be talking to. Ace had seemingly dismissed the man he'd been speaking with, but Pompadour wasn't quite ready to go rushing into that zone of intensity.

If Jack can see Spartan, he can see Pompadour... although it does not necessarily follow that Pompadour would see Jack. I'm inclined to think that Pompadour would recognize Jack if he were close enough to make eye contact -not as Avenger, but 'as that guy from the club.' Meanwhile, Pompadour's domino mask is only millimeters wide, and not designed to disguise.