Derin

Someone was asleep in the bedroom? And she'd walked in without noticing? Man, she was rusty. It was a good thing she'd given up crime, or she'd be in jail all the time with sloppy work like that. She glanced around, eyes lingering in areas where experience told her the cameras probably were. "I assume there are cameras in here?" Although a lot of people never bothered with security cameras, even when they had something worth protecting. And this was no random grab; it was a professional job. This person had something worth protecting.

Sorry about this huge delay, I'm having a lot of trouble getting invisible castle to work for some reason.

Whiplash briefly considered the situation as they swung towards her destination rooftop. She couldn't exactly drop the man off and go have a chat with Pyre, but if they were lucky he'd see that his informant was safe and stay out of the way for a couple of minutes. Or follow them. Which would probably just scare the guy all over again. "If you cooperate and tell me everything I want to know, I'll protect you," she promised. As if she had any other option, no matter how unhelpful he was. "And the first thing you're going to tell me about is this... mystical mumbo-jumbo. We can talk on the way to Morrison Avenue." They'd take the rooftops but move fairly slowly and stay in sight, she decided, in case Pyre wanted to follow. She had just stolen his contact, after all. She just hoped he had enough sense to keep his distance.

Dex check, DC=5 (1d20+8=14)

Whiplash watched the exchange from a safe distance. It was important that the thug didn't notice her or she might endanger Pyre's interrogation. She didn't bother trying to find a vantage point for lipreading; she'd just find Pyre later and ask him. He wasn't exactly difficult to find. She was there for safety. She'd been chasing ghosts and dead ends and she'd watched Pyre do the same and now he had a lead. She wanted to make sure that nothing happened to that lead. Nothing was more frustrating than a snitch being killed or kidnapped right before giving up important information. She clearly watched Pyre's contact back up and stumble. Amateur. She knew immediately from his posture what was going to happen, and was firing her grapple before the man had completely fallen. She tugged to make sure it was securely caught on the building and leapt. This is going to look really stupid if I miss,

Whiplash would be on a nearby rooftop. She's going to try the old swinging-from-a-grapple rescue to catch the man mid-fall.

Let's say the man you're holding is 175lb. You're about 150ft away from the fleeing man, so you'd need to get about 125ft closer.

Whiplash had fought the urge to flee as the heroes approached. She was not a common criminal and this had not been her robbery; she had... well, she didn't have any right to be there, really, but that wasn't the point. She nodded at the mention of her name. "I was in the area and heard the report..." she didn't recognise the suited figure that had addressed her, but the underdressed gentleman accompanying her was a different matter. She'd seen him on the news, some rich business owner. Al-Misri, that was it. "Do either of you know what was taken?" She thought about adding, 'why aren't you wearing pants?', but decided against it. It was unlikely to be connected to the case.

Is the apartment occupant still home or would she have fled?

Whiplash took another deep breath as the pain in her leg faded to a manageable level. She should not have become involved in this fight. The conditions were entirely wrong. The man in Revenant's grip struggled feebly and shouted for help. The man with the gun shot at Revenant, but the bullet flew wide. Whiplash made a note to take his gun away as soon as possible. The remaining unarmed man gaped as Revenant before turning and running for an alley. Go on, little man. I can come back for you later.

Goon tries to break the pin: Goon tries to break the pin (1d20+9=12) Goon 2 shoots at Revenant: Roll to shoot Revenant (1d20+4=18) That's going to miss.

If it hadn't been for the change in her work schedule, Whiplash would've been in Southside when the police scanner alerted her of the robbery. As it was, she dismissed it out of hand due to its location and it took a couple of minutes for her brain to catch up and remind her where she was. She swore under her breath, more from habit than any real irritation, and turned the motorbike around. Might as well check it out. It was unnerving to be travelling as Whiplash so far from her usual haunt, but she had a job to do. Or at least get a look at. She changed in a dark corner and locked up her motorbike (which was probably less likely to be stolen in the more upmarket neighbourhood, at least), took to the roofs and headed over. No sound of hostiles. Was the battle over? Old instincts told her not to be caught loitering around an abandoned crime scene immediately after the crime, but she ignored them and dropped inside. The place appeared empty. Hmm. Damage from the fight, of course, and a broken safe. Did anybody mess about stealing money or jewels in a city full of vigilantes? Or had there been something more exotic in the safe?

If you like. I'm not sure what else we can do with this storyline. The thugs could come after Pyre and Whiplash maybe? They'd probably target Pyre since he'd be fairly simple to track down, but then, he is rather a lot more terrifying than Whiplash.

He's about 250 feet away, where you threw him in the first round. 1d20+9=12 Don't know why I even bothered to roll that. He is grappled. What's Revenant doing with him? Pinning him? Whiplash is still healing so she can't do anything until next round.

He writes comics about himself? Whiplash took the card and looked it over. Should she try to get his autograph? Did little girls like the autographs of comic book artists? Probably not. And she could always ask him the next time she nearly died and he had to rescue her, anyway. "Thanks," she said in response to his offer to cover for her. She pulled off the mask and heart monitor and simply walked out. She didn't expect anybody do come running at the flatlined monitor; a nurse should be able to tell the difference between heart trouble and a loose electrode, and things probably came loose all the time. Downstairs. No problem. She was a shadow of vengeance, a stalker of the night. She used to make a living breaking into high security buildings and vaults looking for priceless, often well-hidden artefacts. She could find some stairs.

He had a wife? Whiplash didn't comment. There were giant bees in the city after all, so why not... fire demon things? Whatever he was, she felt like she owed him some information if he was willing to tell her his name. "My daughter reads comics with a character that looks an awful lot like you," she said conversationally. "She pretends that she doesn't -- kids, you know -- but I'm sure I've seen a character that looks like you." She, too, glanced at the clock. "You reckon they'd be mad if I just walked out and dropped into the police station tomorrow night? Do you know where they stored my equipment?"

"I need to be home by six," Whiplash said, "if at all possible." She sat up. "I should be able to get there fine. Thanks for... you know, saving my life and everything. Are you okay? Did you get burned?" She looked thoughtfully at the machinery next to her, wondering if she should just tear off the mask and pulse monitor and walk out. No, she'd just woken up. She might collapse again. Besides, she still needed to talk to the police. "I was doing fine until the fire," she grumbled. She glanced at her bandaged shoulder. "And the bullets."

Whiplash came to in a hospital bed. She didn't open her eyes immediately. The lack of annoying questions and calm explanations told her that there weren't any doctors or police in the room right at that moment. "Pyre, are you there?" she murmured. "Was I out long?" She had no idea why she assumed that Pyre should be there. He probably had better things to do with his time than loiter around unconscious gunshot victims. But she knew his name, or at least his superhero name; he wasn't a nameless doctor and she couldn't have her own friends and family around her for obvious reasons. (How did the paperwork work, with secret identities? Or the bill? Or her medical history? She needed to figure that out. There surely needed to be some sort of protocol in place.) Her goggles were gone! No... no, she'd taken those off. Right. Her mouth was covered by an oxygen mask. Her hero mask didn't cover her mouth, and the doctors hadn't removed it. Presumably they dealt with superheroes all the time, or at least idiot vigilantes in stupid costumes like her. She opened her eyes a crack and looked down; still in her outfit, although one sleeve had been cut away to expose the wound. Good thing it was just cheap fabric. Her belt and whip were gone, but they'd probably been put in temporary storage somewhere. Not important. Only one thing was important. "The time! Was I out long?"

Whiplash closed her eyes against the dizzying ripple in the world around her and felt the pain in her leg lessen. Adrenalin! Oh yeah! When she opened them again, she saw that Revenant was right -- the goons were prone once more. The one that had been knocked into the wall seemed ready to take the hint and stayed down, but the other three immediately struggled to their feet. The one with the gun moved slowly and seemed to sway a little. "They're already in trouble with their boss," Whiplash told Revenant, trying not to look too disconcerted with the woman's newly revealed earth-warping abilities. I bet she turns out to be some kind of magical alien or earth god or something. "They'll probably blame us if they get away." Whiplash wasn't sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. It'd make it easier for her to do her job, sure. But what if she was tracked home? It might put Anna in danger. That needed to be avoided at all costs.

Str check to resist trip (1d20+3=10) The others aren't going to make that DC. Everyone falls down. Recovery check for Whiplash's Disabled condition: Disable recover check (1d20+4=16) But it'll take 2 rounds, due to being Staggered.

How do hero points even work on this forum? The book says one per session... is that just one per thread?

You want to do anything else in the van or should we skip to the hospital?

"She'll probably be fine," a paramedic said, forcing a breathing mask over Whiplash's face while the other took her blood pressure. "We'll run further tests at the hospital. Did you get injured? Inhale any smoke?" He frowned and looked Pyre up and down. "I admit I'm not certain of your physiology. Do you have a private physician or anybody who knows how to diagnose and treat you?" The ambulance started moving, turning the siren back on. Whiplash wasn't sure that her condition should count as an emergency, but protocol was protocol she supposed. She lay back and closed her eyes. The painkillers and blood loss were making her woozy. "Pyre?" she murmured. "Secret identity... whatever they do, my family can't know." Then she passed out.

The police glanced between Pyre and the criminal. But they'd dealt with strange heroes before. One cuffed the unresisting criminal while the other walked over to Pyre. "We're going to need statements from both of you, but they can wait until your friend is treated. Go on." She glanced at the paramedics. "Actually, I might come with you. Easier to get your statements that way. I'm not strictly supposed to but I'm sure the paramedics won't mind." Meanwhile, Whiplash was being herded into an ambulance. A paramedic bandaged up her shoulder. "We'll get the bullet taken out in surgery," he said. "For now, breathe through this." He handed her a plastic tube. "Painkiller?" "Yes." Whiplash stuck it in her mouth and breathed deeply. It tasted terrible, but she felt the pain fade immediately. Maybe things would work out.

Whiplash nodded. "I'm a bit new to this myself. I'm sure they won't freak out, though..." Maybe. A single police car rounded the corner, followed by an ambulance. "Hold onto the criminal. I'll make sure nobody does anything stupid." She stood up and walked slowly toward the police car, hands spread, making sure she stood between the police getting out and Pyre. "Hi. I'm Whiplash," she said without preamble. "That large and imposing gentleman over there is a hero, he rescued myself and that other man from a housefire. The more normal-looking gentleman is a drug dealer who tried to kill me. He had three associates but I believe they have left. Excuse me, I need medical attention." She headed over to the ambulance, whose crew seemed reluctant to approach Pyre without the police.