trollthumper

If you're using Telepathy, yes, that's a Mental Grapple. But you're using Telekinesis. As it's Perception Range, that will be a +20 to the Opposed Grapple check.

Cavalier was about to say something about how one got used to the stars after traveling among them for so long... but stopped himself. It seemed like a bad idea to shortchange something that must have seemed like holy communion to the young Deep One. "Yeah," he said. "I've been out here for years now. Different branches of the galaxy... different galaxies... haven't quite wandered out of the supercluster, but it may just be a matter of time until that happens. It gets somewhat familiar, but... you never get used to it. There's an endless amount of wonders out there, just waiting to be discovered. Out here... you can feel lonely. But you also feel like you're part of something greater. You may be small, but you're small with others, and you know what that means." He was quiet for a bit, letting the grandeur of the galaxy flow over them. He wanted Aquaria to take this all in. She'd likely seen it before, of course, but that was different than just meditating on it. Once the anxiety bled away, there was a lot of wonder to take in. Before it got positively overwhelming, there was a ping on the comms network - both on his and Aquaria's armor, and on the Voidrunner. "Distress... crippled... Lor-Van science vessel Korata... assistance... coordinates to follow..." The coordinates were less than 5 AUs from their current location. Cavalier opened his broadband. "Think they're playing our song..."

"Something like that," Temperance said. While she fancied painting herself as a master of mystic arts and elemental manipulation, she didn't much feel like making explicit her demi-spiritual nature unless she needed to. "You're not half-bad at the elemental arts yourself, it seems." Flattery always seemed to help divert the more probing questions. Still, if she was going to be given accolades in turn, she decided she might as well live up to them. She turned her attention on the remaining bird-costumed bandit, gathering the remaining water to her hands. It formed another round of icy slugs, which flew from her hands almost immediately. The storm of frozen rounds hit the lone robber at several angles, sending him to the ground in a manner of seconds. She turned to Meathereal. "Shall we follow the party outside?"

Nick saw Phalanx buckling under the waves of necrotic energy, which flared bright ultra-black to his death senses. And that's Centurion Junior, he thought. If I go in there, there's a good chance I'll just end up a stylish pile of bones. He was not one to quake in the presence of death -- he'd been around enough "Death"s to get used to it. But he wasn't the kind of person to go skinny dipping in the River Phlegethon, either. Plus. If there was one thing he was good at, it was telling some of those deaths when to step off. He reached deep inside. It had been a while since he'd done this. Usually, he needed to be up close and personal with the injured person, getting a sense of just how death was seeping into them as life fled. But it was pretty damn obvious in this case, wasn't it? He reached out, forming a connection with Phalanx. He could feel Roman's death magic bleeding in... and knew just where to push back. Life flowed back into the hero, his wounds healing and his vigor returning. Make it count, man.

Nick decides that now is the time for power stunts. Free Action: Rearrange the points on his Healing so that now, it's Healing 12 (Extras: Total, Range [Perception]; Flaws: Affects Others Only, Distracting; PF: Persistent, Regrowth) Standard Action: Attempt to hit Phalanx with a healing burst! If it does, he gets a +12 to a Recovery check, and each extra 5 points against the DC10 CON check will wipe off another condition. As it is late for me and my computer is lagging horribly, I will hold off on the IC post until tomorrow. Poke me with a stick then, if I am slow.

Notice and Sense Motive checks for both Temperance and Aquaria. Notice: 16. Sense Motive: 25

O...kay. Temperance realized that Aquaria was a bit odd in some aspects, but it was a bit much to have her suddenly go into the religious spiel. Then again... from what she'd heard, a lot had happened to Aquaria in the course of her life. The armor was just one example of it. And could a girl who talked to invisible beings really pass that much judgment? She looked past Aquaria to the fire chief. "We think the fire may have been magical in nature. It seemed to act of its own accord, move like a living thing - and not just in the metaphorical sense. It had weight, it plummeted through the floor, and --" The fire chief raised his hand. "Is the part of it that's... moving, at least out?" "My associate took care of that, yes." "God, I hate this voodoo crap," muttered the fire chief. He turned back to his men. "All right, folks! Let's get some men in there! Make sure there ain't any nasty surprises!" Some of the men loaded up in coats and tanks, heading in to the building with fire axes. Others stayed behind, training their hoses on the last smoldering embers. Temperance turned back to Aquaria. "All right. I'm willing to hear the songs. May not be willing to dance to the beat, though. Where do we start?"

Ace's car took to the sky, soaring over the traffic and under the gigantic hailstones. Cannonade braced himself as the car took off, but quickly got it together as the car balanced itself, dodging around the inclement weather to the best of her ability. "You know what I really hate about the full wrath of God types?" he asked over the rising winds. "They - hold on --" A hailstone was plummeting towards them like a safe towards Wile E. Coyote. Cannonade managed to catch it in his hands and laid it down gently on the next rooftop they flew past. "They're always happy to call down hell on Sodom and Gomorrah, but they're never really willing to be there when it gets all apocalyptic. Always gotta watch the city burn from a safe distance." ---- Argonaut and Adept, meanwhile, found the contrails growing warmer and thicker. Soon, to Argonaut's thermographic vision, there was more than just a thin red line. There was a vaguely humanoid blur, hanging suspended in midair. Judging by the coils around her, warm air was swirling, mixing with cooler currents. A tornado. To Adept's unaugmented vision, it looked like Levant - clad in mosh pit vegan chic - was caught in thick air, the wind rising around her and buffeting her. He recognized the weather from a series of posting in the Midwest. A tornado was coming. But why did she want to bring the wrath of God down upon a small baseball field in Maryland? Off in the distance, Argonaut got a glimpse of a tiny shape - but it seemed to be growing larger with every instant. She recognized it from her flying time. An airplane. It was heading right for Levant's tornado...

Temperance makes her TOU save of 22. She will in turn respond by blasting the Fowlering with her Blast w/ Autofire. She scores a 15, so I'm not sure how much hits, but it's DC24 TOU + Autofire.

Nick Cimitiere A Ruined Eye That's Always Open August 1, 2016 The Port Regal Doll Hospital was closing up shop for the day. Adam Hawkins looked over his patients, both those ready for discharge and those still in need of treatment. His store always got a good deal of attention - write-ups in the alt-weeklies, photos on Instagram, Tweets from locals wondering if the Millennials had gone too far. This, despite the fact that Adam was in his forties. His grandfather had been a toymaker, and after years in finance, Adam had decided to try something else and follow in his footsteps. A city like Freedom had no small number of toys and dolls, both new and antique - and some required specialized care, rare parts, and proper reassembly. Vanessa, his assistant, carefully handled two of the newer inpatients. The first appeared to be a proper porcelain doll - a young girl with brunette hair, dressed in Sunday best and Mary Janes. There was a hole in her back where the porcelain seemed to have shattered from impact. "All right,' she said, "here's Savannah Sally. Ms. Lagrasse wants her back in peak condition for her daughter. Apparently the doll took a nasty fall down the stairs." "And the daughter?" asked Adam, concerned. "No, the daughter was fine. Her husband sprained something, though. Sally took her trip when he slipped on her. The daughter must have left her out." "Who leaves a doll like this where someone can step on it?" "Us damned kids, eh?" cracked Vanessa. "Speaking of us damned kids..." She held up the second inpatient: a felt puppet, dressed in strangely authentic leather and denim. His head was pale, skull-shaped, and topped with a pompadour that could stop bullets. "Does this look familiar?" Adam studied it. "That's that sorcerer, isn't it... Nick Cimitiere? Strange. You'd think if anyone was going to make a doll of him, it'd be an action figure." "Blame Etsy. I blame them for everything else." "What's wrong with him?" "I don't know. I found him in the drop tray. Maybe there's a voice chip that's busted, something that's supposed to say, 'Come to me, my ghostly buddies!'" "Well, we can do more intensive care tomorrow. Not like this city's lacking for puppets today." "Yeah... quick question, from the Charlotte girl. When do you get used to stuff like this happening?" "You never do. But you come to accept that it does." The two headed out, locking the door behind them. Minutes passed. Once Nick was sure the coast was clear, he turned his head towards his fellow patients. All going according to plan... ---- July 31st, 11:58 PM Eric LaCroix studied over the photos. Normally, he would be out on patrol on a night like this, but he had decided to stay in, watch some Netflix, and follow up on some leads. They couldn't exactly be called "leads," even - more like "inklings." But one was seeming to bear fruit. He thought back to his last trip to Lantern Hill Cemetery. One of the ghosts had mentioned that she'd been observing Jennifer Lagrasse, one of the local aristocracy, and her daughter Amelia on a visit. They'd come to pay their respects to Harold, Jennifer's first husband and Ameila's father. Amelia had been carrying an antique doll in her arms; the ghost had sensed that "something like me" was in there, but couldn't get a clear read on it. Nick had asked the ghost to describe the doll, and she'd managed to create a fairly accurate replica out of ectoplasm. Ectoplasm wouldn't necessarily last in that form, but it at least gave Nick enough time to make a sketch. That had led to a long series of Google searches, between shifts at the Black Petal and nighttime patrols. The perils of searching for "haunted creepy doll" was that you got no shortage of results, from Robert to Annabelle. But finally, he'd managed to hit pay dirt. Savannah Sally. More of an urban legend than a confirmed case, but one that got plenty of play. Her first appearance was in the family photos of t he Howards, wealthy land magnates who'd owned a good chunk of Key West in the 1910s. At least, until their mansion burned down, killing Mr. and Mrs. Howard but sparing their children. The doll seemed to crop up every 2 or 3 decades, entering a family for a few years before one or both parents met a terrible end, then moving on. Ed and Lorraine Warren - Eric had thoughts on those two - had discovered Sally in 1981, when a mother in Rochester, NY drowned in her house's pool, allegedly held down by an invisible presence; before the investigation was over, however, the doll had vanished from the house. That case was underplayed, compared to their more big-screen fare - you'd think they would have focused on underplaying Amityville - but intrepid occult junkies on Reddit had managed to unearth it and tie it back to Sally's other appearances. And now she was here in Freedom, and she was already racking up something approaching a body count. A few days ago, Alan Hammond, Jennifer’s new husband, had taken a nasty fall down the stairs. One article mentioned he had “tripped over a doll” that had been “left” on one of the top stairs. After doing some reconnaissance of the Lagrasse manor via astral projection, Eric had realized that the doll was no longer in the house – but it also wasn’t in the trash. So, that left a number of options… one of which was the place in Freedom where everyone with a surfeit of money or sentimentality took their busted toys. First, of course, he’d need to spy on the doll hospital – better to project himself than to break and enter in the name of following a false lead. After that, he’d get the warpaint on, go out to the hospital, and – And that was when he blacked out. August 1st, 12:01 AM Eric came to, pushing himself up from the ground. Why had he collapsed? Was he really that tired? And why were… his hands so tiny? He pushed himself to standing height – which wasn’t hard, as there was so much less of it. He looked down; strangely, he was in his Nick Cimitiere costume. He felt his face; the distinctive ridges of the skull makeup were there, but not the feel of the powder. No, it was almost like… felt? He scrambled towards the full-length mirror in his room, only to stop dead when he saw his reflection. He was, in fact, a puppet. A little felt Goth puppet. Okay, he thought, this is new. Maybe it’s someone screwing with me. Malador? Maybe he learned turning me into a vampire isn’t the best idea, and decided to go for something more harmless… The next few minutes put the lie to that. The news showed that it wasn’t just Eric being affected. Further, he still had access to all his necromantic talents, even if they were… slightly altered. With the possibility of attack ruled out, Eric just decided to focus on the fortune. Well. I did want to get closer to the dolls… 6:32 PM Nick Cimitiere hopped down from his perch and began exploring the hospital. He’d heard Sally being laid down, but he hadn’t gotten a clear view of where. He was over in the section of teddy bears and kewpie dolls, and he could see a whole VA hospital full of wounded GI Joes across the way. He opened his eyes to the realm of the dead, trying to get a sense of the haunted doll… …only for a beacon of black to wash up from the nearby table. He locked eyes with Savannah Sally… just as she turned her head and locked eyes with him. “My name’s Savannah Sally…” Nick went flying, pushed back against the distant wall. “…and I’m not sure you have the best of intentions for me.” The doll got up and walked towards him, its sly smile and blank eyes boring into him. Nick struggled with his tiny limbs, not making much progress. Fortunately, they weren’t his only option. Spectral hands popped out of the wall – with the rounded, clubby fingers he remembered from years of Sesame Street. Not normal, but I’ll go with it. They pulled where Sally’s telekinesis pushed, prying him away from the wall. Soon, he was back on the table, landing on his feet. Sally’s onslaught let up for a second, perhaps from confusion – and that’s when Nick struck, buffeting her with his own onslaught. She went flying, hitting the next table with a faint crack. “Owwie!” Nick paused. He had heard many things from malevolent entities… but rarely “Owwie!” Worse, there was how… authentic it had sounded. He used his onslaught to lift Sally up, keeping her suspended in the air. “Please don’t hurt me!” He knew that. That panic. But he couldn’t buy it. Not yet. He’d heard many ghosts – and other things – that were skilled at crocodile tears. “Why did you hurt them?” he asked. “You’ve wracked up quite a record, Sally. Why them?” “Because they hurt first! They were mean! You shouldn’t be mean to your family! Not like that!” Could that be it? Nick knew plenty of poltergeists born from violent tragedy. But sometimes, that violence twisted perspectives… and he’d known a few poltergeists who just wanted to hurt people, and would make up any lie to make it happen. “And why are you the one to do it?” “Because…” The voice dropped. It no longer sounded sing-songy and saccharine; it sounded like a little girl, but one who was turned inward rather than outward. “…because I know. I know. And no one else should.” Damnit. Either she was the best liar in the universe, or… There was one way to be sure. But it would suck. He crossed to Sally’s table and gently let him down. He took her porcelain hand. “It’s okay. Just… let me hear it…” He turned his ears inward, feeling the loom of the Fates in his head. A music box played in the distance. There was a plantation, tall and white. Then pain. Screams. Fire. And finally, one loud, terrible crack, just as the music box’s tune came to a close. He let go. There was no faking that. “Mr. Hammond… Amelia’s dad… has he hurt her?” “Not yet. But he screams at her. Calls her things. I know what that’s like. I know what’s next.” Nick shook his head. “All right, Sally. I have a plan. I’m sorry for what I did to you, but… I’d like your help. But I think it might work best if we do it when I’m… more like myself.” August 2nd, 2016 Alan Hammond stormed into the house. This whole city was going insane. The puppet thing had been sorted out, but this city still couldn’t pull its head out of its ass. Awful destroyers from beyond the stars had almost burned this place to the ground, and still no one could find a way to get things back on track without taking a damn week. Business was slow and frustrating, the wife and her brat were out of town, and he was in desperate need of a drink. He went for the lights… and got nothing. Damnit. A blackout? This city couldn’t be that screwed. He felt his way towards the living room, running his hands along the fine mahogany of the bar. He felt his way towards the bottle… and touched porcelain. He froze. That damn doll? She couldn’t have gotten it back from that stupid doll doctor that fast? Was it… no. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t… “Mr. Hammond.” Hammond turned around. His favorite seat was occupied, by a living shadow with a pale face. “My name is Nick Cimitiere. And you’ve been very naughty…” Hammond steeled himself. He knew this man. One of those damn wizards. Had a tendency for vigilantism, like all the other weirdos in capes. “And?” he asked. “Assuming I… admitted anything, what could you do about it? You’re intruding on my private property. Your accusations – at least, the ones I think you’re going to make – border on slander. And if you had anything, you would have gone to a social worker rather than come and haunt my house. So, I suggest you leave.” Nick stood up. “Oh, I will.” He pointed to Sally. “She won’t.” Hammond turned back to the doll, who stood up and curtsied to him. “She’s going to be watching very closely. She knows this house now – every nook, every cranny, every hidden step. And her eyes are always open. And if she ‘accidentally’ meets the business end of a sledgehammer, I’ll know. And I am not nearly as subtle as her when it comes to making sure no kids get hurt.” Nick patted Hammond on the shoulder. “So. I’m not going to do anything about what you may have done. And, as long as it remains theoretical, we’re not going to do anything. Because if you do…” Nick let it hang on the air like a last breath as he left the house. Hammond stood there, in the darkness of the house, paralyzed. At least, until Savannah Sally giggled. Then he ran like Satan himself was chasing him.

Cavalier, Sea Devil, Singularity, Roulette, Bliss, and Ruby get involved in time travel shenanigans and a Robinsonade.

82 Eridani System Thursday, September 28, 2016 Cavalier flew along side Sea Devil through the inky void, taking in the unfamiliar sights. There was an index full of the various planets, moons, and asteroids of the system, but he had never actually seen them with his eyes. Still, Mentor had recommended this as a nice peaceful system for a trial run. And surveillance. Mentor hadn't been so direct in calling it surveillance. But when Cavalier had asked why he was being asked to take Sea Devil on a ridealong - especially when she hadn't gotten off on good terms with the young Deep One, and her time in space had been far from a walk in the park - Mentor had relented and given him the full scope. "The individuals who tampered with our armor to make the Spectrum Knight design were powerful, intelligent, and given to deception. Although we have examined the altered armor in detail and found no obvious tampering, we know from our own designs that the armor can adapt under proper circumstances. It may be best to see if Ms. Innsmouth has managed to develop new... hidden talents in use of the armor. Talents that were hidden just so they could be... discovered at the right time." A full analysis would be too invasive; however, if Cavalier rode along, Mentor could analyze the code of the Spectrum Knight armor to see if there were any nasty surprises lying in wait. Of course, convincing Sea Devil to go along all on her lonesome might be tricky. Hence why Cavalier had been given dispensation to hire the Voidrunners, with whom Sea Devil had a somewhat better relationship. And hence why he'd had the request approved to let Sea Devil bring along Jessie, who'd also been dragged about half the galaxy alongside her. And hence why he felt like the fifth wheel on this whole trip. But he was the one in charge, so he had to make sure he was everyone's fun uncle rather than their drill sergeant dad. "How do you like the sights?" he asked Sea Devil. "Anything catching your eye?"

Great. It's one of those cases. Temperance hadn't had much chance to interact with Aquaria; she knew she came from something of an isolated religious community, but she didn't know said community had so many Things Whose Names One Dare Not Speak. She tried to parse it out -- the thing was an alien? Sent from a star god high in the sky? What was that star called again? Was it Betelgeuse, or...? Focus. She tried to recall, remember things she might have heard from the Court of Embers. One term came to mind, one spoken with a sense of rivalry, if not loathing. One she couldn't actually believe she'd heard the first time... "I think I know what you're talking about. A... fire vampire? I think that might be one translation." But judging by Aquaria's account, these things did not come down willy-nilly; they were sent. Or... "Could one... call the attention of the one above?" She pulled the bronze lump out of her coat and handed it to Aquaria. "I found this upstairs. Next to the body. For all I know, it could be a melted golf trophy... or it could be a ritual implement. Is it --" Her comments were drowned out as the ladder trucks pulled up in front of the apartment. The firefighters leapt out, swiftly cracking open the hydrants and screwing in the hoses. Soon, the building was drowning. A stout man in his early 50s emerged from the officer's truck, his salt-and-pepper high-and-tight paired with an imposing mustache. He called out orders to his men while striding towards Temperance and Aquaria. "I'm guessing you two were the first responders. Everyone out?" "All the living. There's a dead man on the top floor, back rear corner. He may have been at the point of origin." "Any idea what said origin might be?" Temperance fell quiet, as if trying to think of a way to explain it to the officer that didn't sound like gibbering madness.

The second the burning thing vanished, the floor beneath it split and gave way; though the bulk was gone, the heat had done plenty of damage. Temperance glanced down for a second, and her breath caught - the hole would have put the thing right on top of the water heater. This place could have been torn apart... Of course, that was still a possibility. She took a few seconds to process the use of "drown," then called up her sledge. I need to make sure... She crafted her sledge out of the waters and soared up through the hole Sea Devil had made. She rode it like it was a flying carpet, banking hard around the building. It was still burning in places, but it was more smoldering. She heard the sirens in the distance - the FCFD were likely less than a minute out - but that might not be enough time for some people. After scanning the lower floors, she returned to the top floor, where she'd been interrupted by the elemental. There was only one apartment she hadn't checked... The glass shattered easily - but there was no need for haste. The place looked like a bomb had gone off in the heart of it. The charred skeleton of a couch, a few fibers of carpet, and a slagged television were all that remained to show this had been a living room. And in the center of it lay a charred skeleton, its arms raised in a familiar stance... Defensive wounds... against fire? She scanned the room - the smoke wasn't as thick here, almost as if the fire had left with the elemental. Something glinted in the thin light of day - a half-melted lump of bronze, right next to the dead man. Too large to be jewelry, and really the wrong shape to be a candlestick. She picked it up; by some fortune, it hadn't melted into the floor. The sirens were deafening outside. She tucked the bronze lump into her coat and flew down next to Sea Devil, just as the firemen were five blocks down. "Everyone's out," she said to Sea Devil. "Everyone living, that is. One man dead upstairs; burned to death, awfully fast. Whoever called that elemental may have had a target..."

Hmmm. I can't say no to the idea of Leviathan aspiring to this. Though this might be a good idea of how to come up with a "vouching" process to get onto the FLAux. Probably not anything as formalized as "you need two recommendations and a notarized document," but a way of making sure a character has a level of socialization and seniority that gives them an inroad. That may still be a bit mechanized, but still. Worth a thought. And if names are being submitted... as somebody mentioned, we do have a PC Star Knight. So, I would be happy to have Cavalier join the team.

"Good idea," said Cannonade. He was still flexing his hands from the near car wreck. He may have been damn tough, but catching a speeding car with two hands still resulted in some blunt impact on the joints. Still - if they accomplished nothing else tonight (and he hoped they did), they'd done some good. He scanned the area, but it was still as sedate - yet busy - as ever. "There's also Hanover Square. The real estate is slightly more upscale, but that could just make for fancier fronts. I'll take Greely Street, you can take Hanover Square, and we'll meet back up at Machine." He grinned. "We can go in together. Think you might match the music, and I'd match the, uh... patrons."

Temperance still had no idea what this blob of fire was, but her curiosity could move to the very end of the line. She called up the waters again, this time drawing from the very pipes of the building. Sinks and showers ran as hard as they could without bursting as the water rushed to her beck and call. Once more, it rained down on the burning thing like God's lawn sprinkler, causing vast gouts of steam to rise up from its flanks. Sea Devil managed to dance around the fog; to her eyes, the fire vampire seemed somewhat diminished, and was reeling from the sheer onslaught. But that didn't stop it from continuing to burn. As the floor started to give way beneath it, it seemed that Sea Devil's trident was the main thing keeping it from plummeting into the cellar. "It's reeling!" said Temperance. "All it might take is one big push..."

"Yeah," said Joe, returning the kiss. "but weirdly, I think there are a number of cases where that wouldn't entirely work. I mean, I guess if I was in that position, I'd happily take a payout if it meant I didn't get punched in the face, but... I think there are some henches out there who really take pride in their work." He put his hand on Asli's shoulders, joining in the embrace. "They gotta earn their pay. Or the punch in the face. Either way." While still maintaining the embrace, he pulled out a cheap model smartphone and pulled up Google Maps. "So, Hanover. How do we want to take this? You take the rooftops and the vantage points, I take the back alleys and corners? Or we wanna switch it up this time?"

Oh, yeah. This will suck. Reflex: 18. Toughness: 24 I think I may spend a Hero Point here... Aaaand it actually got worse, with a 23. I think I'll hold off and probably spend again to shake off my Dazed, but... yeesh.

Nick is all kinds of down. I might do double duty and bring Temperance as well.

"We're working on that," said Argonaut over her headset. The heat contrails were growing thicker, leaving brighter marks on the air; the marks also began to trail upwards, leading the two higher into the sky. Beneath them, the Anacostia River trailed on, the buildings growing smaller. And then, they began to look familiar... Within a minute or so, AEGIS headquarters came into line of sight. There was a flurry of activity on the ground - likely agents mobilizing, fearing another possible front for Levant's mad crusade - but otherwise, the building and surrounding area appeared completely untouched. Argonaut looked to the sky. The heat contrails were much thicker here, as if the source had remained in the area for some time, superheating the air to produce thermals. The contrails then banked right, off into Maryland and suburbia. Running almost perpendicular to the river. "She's headed towards Maryland. But she stopped here first. Didn't so much as touch the place. May have been doing surveillance..." --- Ace's car was able to make short work of the waterlogged streets, but it was clear it was one of the few to do so. Traffic was even worse than usual in DC (which was saying something), and the cars that were on the road were slowly being abandoned in the face of flooding - and the impromptu roadblocks created by hydroplaning. Cannonade considered getting out to help clear some of the wrecks, but stopped himself. The bad weather and stopped traffic had effectively forced them north before they could go east. "This place is gonna need some cleanup once we take down Levant," he said. "What the hell is she looking for? Why just stalk AEGIS and not tear down? What could --" He was interrupted as something set the SUV in front of them flying upwards, as if an elephant had sat on its hood. A second later, a similar impact took out a newsstand nearby. Hailstones the size of soccer balls were raining down. Cannonade took a look outside the window. They were at Dupont Circle... and the rainbow flag hanging from a nearby pole told him all he needed to know about why the weather was worse here. "We gotta get out from under this," he said, "or we gotta make sure this stops being a thing, fast. How do you wanna handle it?"

The HP does come from encountering a figure of Sea Devil's faith. And as it has no immunity to Fortitude saves, I'd say yeah, it can be coup de grace'd.

And the Fire Vampire is Bound. Sea Devil: 22, Unharmed, 1 HP Temperance: 11, Unharmed, 3 HP Fire Vampire: 3, Unharmed, Bound, Staggered, 0 HP Temperance makes another attack with her Blast w/ Autofire. A 26 will do, especially when the target has an effective Defense DC of 5. So, that will be DC29 TOU save, which results in it getting Bruised and Dazed. Sea Devil: 22, Unharmed, 1 HP Temperance: 11, Unharmed, 3 HP Fire Vampire: 3, Bruised x1, Dazed (Temperance's Action), Bound, Staggered, 0 HP The Fire Vampire stays there and continues to burn. However, the Fire Vampire does have a Damage Aura 5, so let's roll against said Snare... which holds up. Sea Devil is up next.

Well. That was interesting. "That is not really standard operating procedure," said Cavalier, leaning over the map. "I mean, the Khanate's always had a policy of deliberate obfuscation that would make North Korea green with envy, but they also usually have a propaganda engine that would instill shame in the most graceful of liars. They don't usually hit 'we invented unicorns' level of self-aggrandizing BS, but they know how to sell 'the Khanate is strong; we have the greatest, most luxurious armies; the Khan is not flopping around like a hard drive with a magnet taken to it.'" He leaned back in his seat. "So, we have some options. The propaganda department was absolutely gutted during the Incursion; there's a bit of a rift between the executive branch and the 'hearts and minds' division; or there's not even the faintest bit of straw that can be spun into gold. Question is, what is the game here?"

"Odds are," Joe said, already moving to the bedroom. "These days, it seems like every would-be costumed crime boss and mad scientist is just throwing money hand over fist at his henchpeople." He neglected to mention he may have had something to do with that, having had a hand - if somewhat forced - in establishing the rules for a fledgling henchperson's union. "There seems to be a trend of new guys trying to make a name by offering competitive wages. Hell, wouldn't be surprised if some of these guys are offering insurance through the state exchange." He came out fully dressed - sans helmet - in the Cannonade costume. "I'll throw the purple stuff in the sink. Think we're gonna be stepping out for the evening."