Supercape

Applying 'Capes Analytical Energy senses to it, in combination with Knowledge (Physical Sciences): 1d20+20=22 which is not great...

Both good for me!

Enough to know the fundamentals of the American Civil War (length, key politics, individuals, and battles - but not the timeline etc).

GM A first aid kit was thrust under Glow's nose. "Here you are...can't...say...you are first on my Christmas list" groaned Jackson, a nice blue-black shiner swelling up over his left eye, and a smattering of blood on his shirt. "But...I got to....keep you alive...so I can..." He groaned once more, wincing with pain. "Sue the damn hell out of you!" he added, before sitting back and passing out. The Plane, bouyant as it was, was easily propelled by Glow's telekenetic force, the ocean parting as it skimmed over the seas and waves, towards land. "I got a bearing" said the Pilot "we are 50 miles out from Cuba. Damned if we didn't actually circumnavigate the globe after all of that! Maybe this plane does have a future!"

GM "Your Grave?" replied the man, an eyebrow raised faintly and for the first time a note of - well, not quite uncertainty, but surprise perhaps. "How sentimental" he said, barely missing a beat as Revenant pushed him down the street, in full sunlight. "This intrigues me. Your...nature is not quite as I had expected. So, why don't we visit the cementary. It is, perhaps, fitting, is it not?" he said, a faint chuckle and slightest twitch of his mouth into a half - smile. As they made their way to that very place, he continued. "So, tell me, if you do indeed have a grave there, whose corpse resides under the ground. 'tis not yours, that much is evident..."

Feel free to make History rolls, primarily for fluffiness, to know about the American Civil War! NB: You probably know more than me, so I wont give any info about it, its just for flavour of your posts!

GM "Cham-pee-ons of justice?" answered a befuddles Seamus. "Shure enough need some justice 'round here, ill say. Ash fer the year, well, any dolt knows its the year of our lord eighteen sixty three. Two years of war, and still going strong. Plenty of blood, guts, and gizzards bin spilt already, and the world going to hell. What with all the gunsmoke and dyin' and maimin', well justice bin takin' a back step recently..." He staggered slightly. "And that's not includin' the whisperin's from down south, make a man's blood freeze!"

GM "As you can see, madam..." the young man said, gesturing weekly to his wheelchair "walking is not something I have had the capacity to enjoy for a very long time..." The man's flesh seemed cold, sallow, and dead, despite his handsome features. Only his eyes brimmed with, for want of a better word, life. "But if you would care to push, then then I would be happy to enjoy the sunlight..." he smiled, a trace of contempt in his full lips, mocking Revenant with his tones. "Do not deign to think you have the better of me, no matter appearances" he said, slowly and deliberately. "And do not for one moment think the sun enjoys any power over me" he added, nodding to the venerable butler who opened the curtains fully. The cold flesh basked in the midday sun, without smoking, or bursting into flames, or any such effect. "Come then, my dear...Lucy...was it not? Harker, I recall...you may push..." he said, his eyes flicking to the wheelchair "and let us see where you take me...."

GM The plan worked perfectly - or at least, as perfectly as could be expected. The landing was not exactly smooth, but it was at least relatively safe. Given that a few minutes ago, the SX-1 had been spinning madly, out of control, plummeting from the edge of space, anything that didn't involved total disintegration of the craft and its passengers was counted a success. "Brace yourselves..." mumbled the Pilot, steeling his nerves as he sat the plane down on the artificial construct. A few more jolts, and a few extra bruises, but the plane landed, stationary on Doktor Archeville's landing strip. Bobbing up and down on the ocean gently.

GM Diedre paused a moment. She was clearly in a lot of pain, but was made of stern stuff. "I think...I think I saw somebody, or something, else..." she said, her voice still weak and slow. She looked pale and clammy, and her head was clearly not quite there. "Larger...dark, he was, like pitch...fearsome..." she shook her head. "Then everybody scattered, I don't know if they where alive or dead...I don't know...I'm sorry...I..." "..." "...where did he go...I can't remember...uhhhh...I feel so sleepy..." The woman's eyelids fluttered as she hovered on the edge of unconsciousness.

GM The drunkard was about to open his mouth to reply to El Heraldo. His reactions and speed were both significantly impaired, despite his newfound vow of sobriety. His jaw slackened still further with the entrance of Young Brittania. "Sweet Jesus o' mighty" he swore, staggering to one side and balancing himself against the wall. "Ah seen all sort's ah shannagins, but today is the damnedest peculiar, ah swear!" He dropped to his knees. "Ah swear it's a sign so it is! Old' Seamus Snape, I am, and ah swear my ways will be a'mendin! I been a lousy good for nothing, ah swear, ah confess! Ah seen all sorts of low life goodfernuthin business here, foul devil business, ah knows...but this be a sign! Ah swear ah mend my ways!" He hiccuped, and for a few seconds looked like he might vomit. "Seamus Snape at yer service!" he bowed, rather to much, and fell on his face. "ah seen some fella matching' yer description!" he moaned from the floor.

GM "Ah....number two...." The curtains were drawn, but light still perfumed the room, sunlight at that. The old drawing room was elegantly furnished with wooden pieces, full of dusty tomes. The voice was crystal clear but faint. Still, it seeped confidence and intelligence. The man was young of age, but sunken, like a cancer victim. He came in dressed in a neat black suit, black of jacket, shirt, and bow tie. He was in a motorised wheelchair, frail, his frame collapsed in on itself. Despite the youth of the face, a handsome face at that, with crystal blue eyes, his hair was pure white, and swept back. His skin was pale, but not ghostly white. "How are you feeling?' he asked, in a voice devoid of emotion but sharp and astute.

GM The Print's were almost a swarm now, pouring out of cafes, shops, and homes, shouting their undying love for Harry Print. Whilst many yelled threats and abuse at the Golden Robot, and a few took pot shots with thrown objects (including, on one occassion, a bucket of bright pink paint thrown from a rooftop - that did no damage but gave Protectron a bold new look), they could not harm the hero, and within a short time the steel cables had trussed up a goodly proportion of the Prints. "You will never find him! hahaha" laughed one tied up Print, dressed in a fetching red dress. 'His' sentiments were echoes by the laughter of Print's all around him, mocking Protectron. As they laughed, Protectron picked up another radio communication. Calling Protectron...Calling Protectron... Police Station has been overtaken! Its full of Print's! Our command has been overtaken! What do we do?

These Prints are just bystanders, so no meaningful chance of saving and not much in the way of fight back, so all snared!

GM [quote="Aoiroo" "Someone has been killing the local homeless and using experimental chemicals to reanimate them. In the modern sense they're zombies, minus the usual contagion displayed in the movies."

They cant make that 1d20=6, 1d20=1 no chance!

GM As Revenant started towards the house, she could see it closer. No 22, Flag Avenue, said the engraving, with unsurprising accuracy. The house was not magnificent or ostentatious, but it was old and perhaps even worn. It was also large. As she approached, the front door swung open, held by what, to all intensive purposes, appeared to be a butler. He was old, venerable even, bent and pale, with strands of white hair over his head. "Welcome, Madam Harker" he croaked, his voice infused with iron despite its age. His posture and gaze was unassuming, but it did not flicker. "Please come in and make yourself at home..."

P.L.O.T. Miles! Probably some mid atlantic tiny Island (take you pick. The Falklands? ) Enough to get to by pushing your screwdriver / Glow. Or alternatively you can ditch the plane and swim the last mile!

Ok, you may not have great equipment for diagnosis (or time) but the leg is shattered, and there will be blood loss (not life threatening, but still). She also appears concussed. There is a possibility of a cranial haemorrhage (a bleed inside the skull) which could be life threatening. But without a higher medicine check or specialist equipment (i.e. a head scan) you wont know for sure (if she starts getting unwell, that would indicate it!). You have the drop on the Zobo's, go ahead. As there are only two (stuck in for narrative purposes)..for now...and you have initiative, narrate how you want to drop 'em!

Skull Face "My ears are long and my words will be heard. You cant escape your past!" (Skull Face to Wave Eye, Under the Bridge Character Name: Skull Face Power Level: 8 (136 PP) Trade-Offs: +4 Toughness, -4 Defence In Brief: Ancient undead, slain during Wave-Eyes dark past. Now a disembodied, silver tounged skull! Alternate Identity: Acalan Identity: Public Birthplace: Ancient America's Occupation: Previously, fisherman. Affiliations: Anyone who listens to him (particularly the undead, and those slain in battle). Family: None alive. Description: Age: 12,000 (aprox) Apparent Age: Who can tell? Gender: Male Ethnicity: Was indigenous American. Height: 10 inches. Weight: 1 Kg Eyes: Black sockets Hair: None Power Descriptions: Skull Face has no visible powers, his strength comes entirely from his speech skills and communication powers. He is able to use the ritualist feat by chanting, which may have more esoteric effects. History: Acalan was a simple fisherman ages ago, with a wife and a family. When his family and tribe were slaughtered in an ancient war, he took up arms only to be mown down in battle. The war was the one in which Wave-Eye fought, at that time a bloody mercenary of great infamy. Acalan did not die, his will and spite, and the magics of the battles somehow combining to keep his skull intact, and his spirit inside it. Thousands of years of such an existence has not done anything for his sanity and desire for revenge. And yet he has learned the art of manipulation well. He became a master of cajoling, threats, and lies, and listened to all the creatures (alive and dead) of the sea. Personality & Motivation: Skull Face desires revenge upon Wave-Eye more than anything, although he would dearly like to strike a blow at all the undersea empires, from Atlantis to the Deep Ones. He hates bloodshed and violence, and would inflict bloody revenge on warmongers in a insane act of self defeating logic. He is somewhat mad from his endless existence, but his skill in deception is beyond par. He actually enjoys manipulating people. Powers & Tactics: Skull Face has no offensive powers at all. He can use nasty intimidates, but his real skill comes first in recruiting servants by manipulation, and secondly by putting people against each other, and manipulation. Abilities: -10 + -10 + -10 + 8 + 4 + 14 = -4PP Strength: - Dexterity: - Constitution: - Intelligence: 18 (+4) Wisdom: 14 (+2) Charisma: 24 (+7) Combat: 0 + 0 = 0PP Initiative: +0 Attack: +0 Melee, +0 Ranged Grapple: +0 Defense: +0 (+0 Base, +0 Dodge Focus), +0 Flat-Footed Knockback: -0 Saving Throws: 0 + 0 + 0 = 0PP Toughness: +12 (+12 Protection) Fortitude: Immune Reflex: -- Will: +5 (+2 Wis, +3) +13 vs Mental (+8 Impervious mental). Skills: 80R = 20PP Bluff 13 (+20) Diplomacy 13 (+20) Intimidate 13 (+20) Knowledge (Arcane) 6 (+10) Knowledge (History) 6 (+10) Notice 8 (+10) Perform (Singing) 8 (+15) Sense Motive 13 (+15) Feats: 15PP Distract (Bluff) Fascinate (Bluff) Fearsome Presence 8 Ritualist Second Chance 3 (Bluff, Intimidate, Diplomacy) Taunt Powers: 0 + 0 + 0 = 0PP Communication 9 ('Anywhere on Earth', mental Extras: Omni-Directional, Sensory LinkFlaws: Only undead Feats: Selective) [19PP] (Speak to the Deads) Communication 3 (Ventriliquism, 1 Mile Feats: Subtle 2) [6PP] Comprehend 11 (Speak to and Understand Languages, Plants, Animals, Spirits, Objects. Read all Languages ) [22PP] Immunity 30 (Fortitude saves) [30PP] Feature 1 (Vocal Mimicry, +10 to related bluff check) [1PP] Mind Shield 8 [8PP] Protection 12 [12PP] Super Senses 4 (Darkvision, Extended 2 on Hearing) [4PP] Totals: Abilities (-4) + Combat (0) + Saving Throws (3) + Skills (20) + Feats (15) + Powers (102) - Drawbacks (0) = 136/136 Notes: Skull Face was an experiment with a nemesis who has absolutely no attack powers whatsoever. He ended up causing no end of trouble for Wave-Eye, goading and diverting the hero through all sorts of trials whilst maintaining complete innocence throughout. The reveal was a perfect surprise. Although Skull Face is primarily a nemesis for Wave-Eye, he could be used to create all sorts of problems for other characters, maybe even pitting themselves against each other. He could agitate for Atlantean political strife. He is by no means limited to the sea, either. He might also pop up in the context of other necromantic villains or heroes. He is also not inherently evil, just maddened and grieved by the past. He could even be an ally of sorts, a font of information, although his wicked tounge would always try to manipulate the end to his goals. Appearances Under the Bridge

OOC for This[/thread] El Heraldo, Glow, and Jack Jackson!!!

GM 16th May As Subito and Kristen walked through Claremont, the ever-acute hearing of Subito heard it... Click....Click Click... On further examination, it was none other than Jack Jackson, snapping the "Happy couple". "Ah there you two are..." he blustered as approached. "The disaster from down under and her lovely boyfriend.So nice to see you both. What spectacular threat are you two going to serve up to Freedom City today, huh? Perhaps a nuclear meltdown? a tsunami? a crashing plane?" Giving Kristen a particularly spiteful glare at the last scenario. "Or perhaps you have come to see those illegal immigrants you 'saved' being carted off back to Mexico, huh?"

Continued in Meeting the Master

GM The address of "the Master" was in Lantern hill, near to the cemetery, and not far from St. Stephens Church. the buildings here were old, very old, and very beautiful, full of class and distinction, with a Victorian flavour. They were, almost certainly, extremely expensive. The Address lead Revenant to a particular delightful, tall house, not quite a mansion, but spacious, with a garden. It had a slightly tumbledown appearance, with an overgrown garden peppered with rubbish and bricks. Its chimney filled the air with a plume of smoke - someone had a fire going inside.

"Thats...Japanese...isn't it?" asked Synth, pointing to the symbols. She was far from certain, but she remembered some books she had read about the caligraphy when she was learning to read. "Anyone speak it? I don't..." she smiled, looking at the other heroes down here with her. She was deeply uncomfortable down here. She preferred open spaces, after being cooped up whilst she was "Grown". She remembered the fields of snow and ice that looked so beautiful. Also, this place was ripe for an ambush. "It's a death trap down here..." she commented. "We need to press forward...."