Derin

Whiplash disarms boss: Attack roll to disarm goon, using power attack, DC=12 (1d20+7=17) Attack bonus roll to disarm, using power attack, improved disarm (1d20+15=32) Goon 2 attempts to throw off daze effect: Fort save to throw off stun effect (1d20+4=8) Boss attacks Whiplash, misses: Attack on Whiplash (1d20+7=14) Whiplash uses stun gun on dazed goon 2, knocks him unconscious: Attack roll to stun goon 2, using power attack (1d20+7=21) Fort save against stun effect, DC=23 (1d20+3=10)

The man looked almost surprised when his hit connected. Whiplash dashed forward and struck out with her weapon to tear the gun from the hand of her opponent. The weapon clattered across the pavement, coming to rest against the building behind her. The newly disarmed man swore and swung a meaty fist at her. She dodged it easily. The man who had struck Revenant, emboldened by his success, grinned and tried to hit her again, but his knuckles met only air. Whiplash's back was to the two men who were already down. She didn't see Kev climb to his feet, nor the other man drawing his gun.

Attack rolls for the next round are as follows: Whiplash attempts to disarm goon 3, succeeds: Attack roll to disarm goon 3, DC=18 (1d20+12=29) Attack damage roll to disarm, inc. Imropoved Disarm (1d20+10=30) Strength check to resist disarm, DC=30 (1d20+5=21) Goon 3 attacks Whiplash, misses: Melee attack against Whiplash (1d20+4=11) Goon 4 attacks Revenant, misses: Melee attack against Revenant (1d20+8=11) I believe that leaves goon 1 bruised and goon 2 staggered (from previous round), and everyone else fine (since your regen takes care of bruising)?

Whiplash crept through the door, offering a silent prayer that it wouldn't squeak. It didn't. Even if it had, it probably wouldn't have been noticeable over the sound of somebody swearing loudly as they frantically rattled the front door. Whoever was in charge, though, had kept their heads. "Everybody silent, no guns!" he shouted. "We go for the back door, and whatever you do, nobody break anything!" Whiplash's goggles let her "see" through the smoke as if it wasn't there. It seemed like the front room was a combined kitchen and lounge. She saw a weedy, nervous-looking man at the front door stop rattling the handle and begin edging his way around the room. She saw a muscled, bald man draw a baton from his belt and try to squint through the smoke. She saw a man crouch under the table in the middle of the room, drawing a gun against his boss's orders. The man who had spoken said orders felt for a long knife on the table, found it, and picked it up. He then backed slowly against the wall. The table itself was piled high with glassware, pans and various chemicals that Whiplash assumed to be vital to making illegal drugs. She didn't know what they were, or particularly care. Her sonic goggles showed the outline of boxes and bottles, but couldn't read the labels. Dangers. The gunman, he'd panic. The knife... stay away from the knife. The baton. The other idiot was just looking for an exit; he could be ignored. Whiplash crept towards the table, edged to one side of the man crouched underneath it, and jammed her stun gun into the base of his skull. The man twitched under the jolt, cursed, and shot wildly, missing Whiplash entirely. "What'd I tell you about guns, Brick?!" the leader roared. "He's on me! The bastard's on me!" With that, the knife-wielding leader and baton-wielding goon advanced on the table. Brilliant.

The force of Revenant's blow sent "Kev" flying along the street, landing on his back some 250 feet away. He didn't look dead, but he didn't look inclined to move either. The man with his hand on his gun swore, but Whiplash wasn't letting him draw it; she dashed forward and struck out at him with the end of her whip. The man shouted as the whip struck across his arm and chest, stumbled backwards 10 feet, and tripped. "Jake!" One of the men still standing drew a gun, looked from Revenant to Whiplash, and aimed at Whiplash. "Nick, you get the other one!" He fired. Whiplash heard the bullet whistle past her ear. The man she'd knocked back was trying to crawl away from the fight. "Oh, sure, send me after the one who just threw Kevin down the street!" growled the other man, but he nevertheless went for Revenant, cracking his brass knuckles against her jaw.

Whiplash strikes with her whip. Whiplash’s attack roll: 1d20+12=19 Goon 2’s Fort save: Fort save (DC=23) (1d20+8=11) Goon 3 attempts to shoot Whiplash: Ranged attack on Whiplash (DC=22) (1d20+8=16) Goon 4 attempts to punch Revenant: Melee attack on Revenant (DC=20) (1d20+8=27) I believe that's a hit, with a DC21 fort save?

kthen. 1d20+7=20 Failed the save by 6. That's what, stunned and bruised? Also, if I've calculated the knockback correctly... did Revenant just throw this guy 250 feet with her knee?

I made up the goons' stats as follows: So the DC to hit Kev should be 17, right?

The man with his hand on his gun frowned. "Kev? Isn't that... I know her, I'm sure of it." Whiplash wondered if she should get some height. Could she climb without making any noise? Maybe. But if she was spotted, the situation might erupt into violence. Violence that could still be avoided. "What, you're sayin' this one's yours?" 'Kev' asked. "No, it's... holy sh*t, that's a hero!" "Solves our scapegoat problem, then, doesn't it?" One of the other men advanced menacingly on the woman. These men really are idiots, Whiplash thought, repositioning herself to keep one of the goons in range without leaving the shadows. Remember, Helen, try not to bring home any injuries you can't explain to your daughter.

Whiplash will delay until after Revenant's action. That makes it Revenant, Whiplash, then the goons.

Initiative rolls for combat: Whiplash: Initiative for combat (1d20+8=24) Goons: Initiative for combat (1d20+1=5, 1d20+1=14, 1d20+1=19, 1d20+1=4) Need a roll from Revenant.

Doktor'd 11/20/2011 Whiplash Forgot to make Whiplash's smoke grenades independent. Smoke grenades in her utility belt should have the Independent extra and 3 ranks of the Slow Fade feat, as follows: Doktor'd 11/20/2011

Was that somebody approaching? Whiplash risked a peek around the corner, confident that her outfit would blend her shape into the alley. It was... a young woman, by the looks of it, pale, well-dressed and not possessing the normal wariness that one would expect of somebody strolling through Southside so late, especially a lone woman. She didn't seem to be paying attention to the small group of men. Whiplash drew her whip. There was every possibility that the woman and the goons would ignore each other -- they had more important things to worry about, after all. But there was also the chance that they wouldn't. Sure enough, one of the men glanced over and grinned. "Hey-hey, lady!" He started to stride over to the approaching woman. "What're you doing out here by yourself?" "Kev, you moron, we have a more important situation here!" one of the other men hissed as the man swaggered past him. Yet another of the men was frowning at the woman, as if he vaguely recognised her. His hand was reaching for his belt. A gun.

OOC thread for Gangland Violence.

November 20, 2011 Southside It was unusual for criminals to talk so openly in lit areas, in Whiplash's experience. But the four men standing under the streetlights weren't even trying to be subtle. They hadn't bothered to retreat to an unlit alley or corner, the only concession to privacy being to lower their voices as they hissed and bickered. Whiplash herself watched from an alley, where she'd been forced to descend to ground level to hear the conversation. "He'll kill us if we don't bring him the money!" "Well, maybe we can... dispose of the guy responsible, instead." "You expect to find Johnny now?! We only have a couple of hours before the meet!" "Doesn't have to be Johnny, does it? He doesn't know who took it. We find someone, blame them, give ourselves some time, right?" "Yeah, like that'll work!" "Got any better ideas?!" Whiplash remained hidden and silent. Four was too many to take on by herself. She had a kid to think about. Besides, if she waited, these guys might lead her to their boss. So long as they didn't hurt anyone.

Finding the red-doored house wasn't difficult, even from the rooftops. She lowered herself to street level, crept around the back, and started to look for a way in. Three doors. She noted them but dismissed them as entry points. Windows were sealed shut and hidden behind heavy curtains do disguise the nefarious activities within. That was good, she supposed, but she'd have to break one to get into the building. Unless... there might be roof access. Whiplash put on her sonic goggles, blocking out her own sight entirely. She switched them on and the world jumped into view once more, a clear image built of ultrasonic echoes the chouldn't hear. The darkness had no effect on her sonic sight. Front door... how could she jam the front door? There were some old logs used as borders for the overgrown garden. Carefully, she pried one up and carried it over to the door. The door was in a depression, It was a simple matter to wedge it between the door and the wall at right-angles to said door. Would it hold? Against panicking drug dealers, certainly. Side door. She wedged a big rock from the garden against it. The back door had no gardens immediately around it, but it did have some rusted guttering above. Should she go back round the front for another log, or just rip down the guttering? Would that make too much noise? She was contemplating the issue when somebody shouted from inside. "Who locked the f--ing door?" Dammit. Well, that decided her entry point. Whiplash threw open the back door and tossed in a smoke grenade.

"I'm sure she would. Thank you." Whiplash had never met a ten-year-old girl who wasn't interested in eating evey sweet thing that she could get her hands on. She glanced down at the baby, sleeping in the... grass-floor-blanket. Yeah, it was definitely time to return to the same planet as her family. Not that the people she had met weren't very nice and friendly. Magic, she decided, or whatever else this whole thing was, was something she was just going to have to get used to. Maybe she could invite Fleur over to her... tiny apartment, where she lived as a civilian with a daughter who didn't know about Whiplash. Yeah. That would work perfectly. "Thanks for the coffee," she said, standing. "It's nice to meet another hero." A real hero.

Whiplash had to wonder what such people would think of Fleur. They probably took her to be some sort of nature goddess. She glanced around the cabin at the quickly tiring baby and plant walls she didn't think it would ever be possible to get used to. "If I want to make my patrol tonight and get home in time to get my girl to school I'm going to have to leave soon," she said. Not that anything interesting was happening on her route recently, but the 'alternate planet' thing was creeping her out. "Apart from Super Bee, are there any heroes in Southside I should keep an eye out for?"

Whiplash smiled and nodded, trying not to look like she was panicking. "I... I'm just not used to this sort of thing," she admitted. What was the proper social protocol when you'd just discovered you were on an alien planet (did another version of Earth count as an alien planet?) and weren't sure how to handle it? But what was that about history? "What happened here? Are there any people here, I mean, people native to this planet? You mentioned ruins. Did everybody die?"

Whiplash headed to a dilapidated part of town that was depressingly close to her own home. She knew, based on several nights' survaillance, that there was a drug dealer in the area, but she was yet to pinpoint their exact location. They could be holed up in any number of dilapidated, poorly lit houses. If she wanted to wrap the situation up fast, it was time for a direct approach. She'd been waiting barely an hour before she spotted a young couple stumbling down the road and giggling. She'd seen them in the area before, and last time she'd managed to spy the cocaine as the young man handed it to his date. It wasn't hard to tell that they'd come back for more. At least they didn't look to be high, yet. Whiplash slipped from the roof about a block away from them and quietly crept up behind. The whip caught the man entirely by surprise as it whipped around his body, entrapping him. The woman screamed, startled, as the man swore and struggled to see what had caught him. “Where did you buy them?†Whiplash growled in his ear, loud enough for them both to hear her. “What?†“The drugs!†Whiplash tightened the whip around him, eliciting a groan. “I could spend all night out here playing with you, but I’m rather more interested in who sold you the junk burning a hole in your pocket. So if you tell me where they are, I’ll go away.†“It’s from that little house with the red door just off Kissinger street!†the woman gasped, glancing from Whiplash to her date. “Now let him go!†“I don’t suppose you have a lightly more precise address?†“I don’t know! I don’t know what the address is!†Whiplash sighed. “Fine. But listen up. I don’t care what you do to your own bodies, but when you go around buying this sh*t off people with home chemistry labs, you’re giving money to people who hurt and kill. You’re supporting violent industries, encouraging future death and danger to innocent bystanders, and I can’t tolerate that. If I catch you funding these crooks in my neighbourhood again, I won’t be lenient. Understand me?†She released the man from her whip with one deft movement, and the pair took off down the street without even stopping to answer. Would they listen? Maybe. More likely they’d just find somewhere else to get their drugs. A house with a red door just off Kissinger street. It wasn’t an address, but she already knew the general area. She’d worked with worse leads before.

Whiplash frowned at the floor. The strange, grass-carpeted floor. That wasn't helping. "A few universes away? What does that even... no, don't tell me, I doubt I'd understand. But you're saying we're in a different universe? Is that safe?" Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Although the giant bees made more sense in that light. Presumably. Physics and biology weren't part of Whiplash's skill set. Whiplash sudenly felt trapped. Not 'homeowner's between me and the door' trapped; that she could deal with; more 'I'm locked in a safe and only my accomplice on the outside can get me out' trapped. Which was a bit like prison trapped, except less safe. Partly because it required trusting somebody else and hoping they were well disposed toward her. In what she thought was a reasonable voice, considering the circumstances, she continued, "A whole different planet, huh?"

Roll log: Whiplash ensnares a drug dealer: Attack roll to ensnare drug taker. Drug taker given defense of 8 and caught by surprise. (1d20+14=31) Reflex save for snare (DC=31). (1d20+1=15) Whiplash intimidates a couple of drug-buyers for information: Intimidate check, +2 for intimidating circumstances (1d20+2=15) Will save to oppose Intimidate check (1d20=14) Will save to oppose Intimidate check (1d20=10) Whiplash attacks Goon 2 with her stun gun: Attack roll to hit goon 2, using Power Attack (1d20+7=17) Fort save against stun effect, DC=22 (1d20+3=21) Goon 2 tried to retaliate with ranged attack: Ranged attack to hit Whiplash, DC=22 (1d20+8=14) Goon boss tries to stab Whiplash with a knife: Attack on Whiplash, DC=22 (1d20+7=22) Total concealment miss chance, DC=10 (1d20=7)

This is currently a solo thread, but I'm happy to have people jump in.

Whiplash nodded, not entirely certain how she felt about the suggestion. A giant hive of bees wasn't what she'd call a fun day out, but Baybee had been alright. Friendly, even. And she was definitely curious about them. She put her empty cup down next to the biscuits. "How do the bees... how does this entire place stay hidden? I mean, we're above the city, aren't we? But you can't see this place from the city, so I assume there's some sort of... invisibility field around it? Doesn't that cause a danger with aricraft?" Unless they were too high for aircraft. But that would mean some sort of giant down or something maintaining air pressure and temperature, which was too dizzying a possibility for Whiplash to think about. She didn't contider anything she couldn't safely cling to the outside of to be 'safe'.

After work, Helen bid her workmates goodbye, jumped on her motorcycle and headed for home. About a block away from her house, she turned into an alley and found her normal seculded corner. She wore most of her costume underneath her uniform, and adding the rest of it took very little time. She tightened her belt, adjusted her wig, and stepped out of the shadows. Whiplash scaled the side of the building next to her with practised ease. It was her alley, her wall -- she could've done it blindfolded. Which was a good thing, considering the darkness. Once on the roof, she marked the direction of home, and began to run. Finding her way home from the rooftops wasn't a problem for Whiplash. It was a practised route by now, and it was easier to navigate from rooftops than roads. Her feet never slipped as she sailed between rooftops, each landing barely a break in stride. Once above her own apartment, she carefully lowered herself to peek into Anna's window. The girl was sleeping peacefully in her own world of nauseating pink and glitter. Whiplash pulled herself back onto the roof, took a moment to catch her breath, and sighted the next roof. Right. Time to go to work. Time for her second night job. And she knew exactly where to start.