Shofet

The violent man tumbled to the ground with a surprised look in the face as consciousness faded from his face, while the man with the Gwynedd accent's eyebrows raised first in suprise at the use of Welsh, but he nodded in recognition, and scurried out of the room while the others dealt with the incapacitated men, letting the door swing behind him. The others showed signs of being down and out, though the depressed man might soon rouse from his artificial emotions and return to his violent nature. The Gwynedd man watched from outside the room, eyes wide with horror.

1d20+1=19 However, GM fiating he's down cold.

The Penitent nodded at Starlight. "You've got a point there, miss. All we seem to be getting so far is that he's taking out criminals... Non-supers, it seems, and sometimes just cops that get in his way. I don't know who we could talk to since our... "friend" seems to have killed most of his victims." His face wrenched at the idea of hurting cops. It was obvious the Penitent was not happy about this guy. Marlow, meanwhile, was grinning rather broadly at Revenant. "Nah, I don't need nothin'. I'm used to needing to hide out every once in a while. PI, you see. Eheheh, don't make a lot of friends, and it seems my buddy doesn't either." He smirked. "But spending more time with you sounds lovely." He looked a little more serious for a moment. "But seriously, Lucy, right? Well... Make sure Bram's okay. He's a good guy, even if he is a big lug sometimes. I mean, yeah, he's a super, but... I just worry about him, alright? Especially if the guy framing him has all the powers Bram does..."

Uh, TK?

Welp, that's not good. Rolled for initiative. 1d20=3

The Penitent sniffed the air, and looked about. He followed the smell, and stopped, turning to face his fellow heroes. "I think I found it. I think it's beneath the boiler room." He looked down, then up. "You know, I never figured Hell was, well, actually directly beneath us. You know, because of the core, the mantle, all that. You'd think the pressures would have them all smooshed like pancakes."

I'll have the Penitent if it's possible. He's a PL10 all 'round, so I figure he'd do well. I rather like C and B, though I would need to see more about War-Earth

Thug breaks free, and decides to open a can of PAIN. 1d20+5=12 However, he lacks the can opener, it seems.

"Well, I don't recall anyone telling me I'm acting any different, no... And as for family with powers like mine, well that's not really how it works. The way I get my powers is a ritual where a thousand damned souls are bound to me so I can help'em go on and repent then bring 'em up to the Good Place, and the ritual only happens once every few generations, so... I couldn't have any family mimicking me like that, I don't think. As fer admirers... Well, I don't have any admirers. I'm a big guy with a funny accent who looks like a demon. As for the fourth, the only time I'm technically allowed to kill is when humanity risks extinction. But the fifth... There's Hamilcar... I mean, Weissnacht, but he's in prison, and there's the vampires, but... They're kind of lame. So I don't think so." The Penitent sighed, downing his drink, then looked up at Starlight. "Well, miss, if you're gonna help me... I appreciate it."

The latter, unfortunately.

The Penitent stood up stiff as the creatures attacked in a rush against him. The first launched forward at him, punching for the diaphragm. The Penitent didn't even move as the vampire's knuckles landed squarely on target, only to see the Penitent looking down at him, his yellow eyes dilated into cat-like slits as they sat in the sea of red around them while the Penitent's face wrenched into a dark, condescending grin. The next hurried up to him in a similar beserker charge, throwing himself at the Penitent with a powerful punch, prompting the Penitent to casually swat his attack away with barely so much as a notice. The leader readied a blast of Hellfire, hitting the Penitent with perfect precision. The ball of flame swept over and engulfed the Penitent just as another vampire managed to ineffectually swing at him. The hellfire glowed white hot, flickering over him for a minute, and the outlined form of the Penitent fell to his knees, arms crossed over his chest, shrieking. Before anyone could proclaim victory, the hiss of the hellfire died, and it became apparent that the shrieking was in fact hysterical laughter. Slowly, the Penitent rose to his feet, his leather jacket in tatters but his person no worse for wear was he looked about them. "That's it? Eheheh. That's all? That's your best? Ahahaha!" His face rapidly hardened into an intense glare as he looked at the minions. He looked from each and every one of them. "Y'all're pathetic. Seriously." He focused intently on the minions. "I hope you're getting it, though. None of you pose any threat to me at all. Not one. Never have, never will. So I'm going to give you all one last chance. You're all in thick now for the kidnapping, but I'm going to let you go ahead and sit this fight out. If not, I will hit you just as hard as I am about to hit your master, and for what you did to my friends... Well, as the good book says, every little bruise, the slightest scratch will be "paid back sevenfold". So if you have the slightest amount of self-preservation instinct, you will all stand-down and stay out of this fight." He looked back at the leader. "But you? You organised this. You've bullied most of these poor beggars into this. You don't get a chance."

He has nothing of interest on him beyond the strong smell of sea-salt, and some ratty clothes. His wallet is gone and he has no ID. Second round! Depressed dude can't do anything, so... Thugly's opposed grapple time. 1d20+8=28 Oh my.

1d20+13=30, 1d20+13=23, 1d20+13=32 ...My God. Responding with an intimidate on all the minions to try to get them to stand down. 1d20+10=30

The Penitent glared at the vampire, grinding his teeth. "You know, all these punches may not hurt too much, but they're sure as heck annoying me like nobody's business." He reared up. "Mine, however, will definitely hurt!" The Penitent threw his fist upwards, hoping to get the vampire in an uppercut and take him out, but the vampire quickly bent back, the punch just barely missing its intended target as the wind from it fluttered up the vampire's hair a bit with the force. "You were lucky that time, I'm doubtin' it's gonna happen again."

D'oh. The one that just tried to hit me, sorry.

1d20+10=16 Punch on Vampy.

1d20+13=19 Ooo, not good.

1d20+3=20 For the Penitent.

Marlow looked at all the supers now in his home, and sighed loudly. "I shall... just sit here, I guess." He pulled out a chair, and slumped in it, looking a mix between irritated and bewildered as he put his derringer down on the counter, safety on. The Penitent also scanned over all the newcomers, and sighed, folding his arms. "Yeah, I guess I should..." "I really don't know any more than you guys, but I can say that it isn't me doing this sort of stuff. Heck, I've been at the bar most nights, playing billiards." He grinned sheepishly "I'm not exactly rolling in dough so competing is a way to earn some extra cash." The Penitent's face fell again. "But I don't kill people, regardless of who they are. I wouldn't call myself a hero, but I try to work towards absolution for people. To help them become better people... Or sometimes just make sure they survive to be better people. I'd never kill anyone because doing so takes away that chance." He glanced at all them. "I don't know who is doing this, but it isn't me." He sighed, running his fingers over his horns. "I've worked with Rev before. She knows what kind of person I am, and Marlow can attest to it as well. Like I said with Rev, if you're not convinced, I won't fight you, but I am being as honest as I can. I'm not a murderer." He looked at the King of Suits "You can ask me those questions, if you want."

The man struggled against Blodeuwedd's grip, but found himself unable to break free against her strength. Snarling, he continued to struggle futilely, barking at Blodeuwedd in a strange, incomprehensible tongue, while his companion simply sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands, his hollow eyes peeking just barely out of his fingers as he slumped as the sheer uselessness of it all overtook him, the depression consuming him like a void and leaving him unable to do anything but just stay there. The man with the Gwynned accent looked up at them. "Th-thank you! I... They almost got me!

"I suppose as ready as we're gonna be." The Penitent sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Well, I suppose we better get a move-on." The Penitent approached the door, and the ghosts clinging to him looked positively terrified. "Any plan of action we have beyond 'rush in and hurt them bad', before I forget?" asked the Penitent as he turned to face his comrades. "I'd hate to be underprepared when storming the Bad Place of all places."

+5 to notice for everyone since this darned place is rather creaky, being an old apartment and all. 1d20+8=20 Penitent still don't notice.

Marlow's face fell a little when he found that Revenant was looking for Bram instead of him, but he nodded. "Of course, madame." He nodded, and went to go get Bram. "Dame is here to see you, Bram." "Dame?" "Hey, don't judge me, mister 'hyuck hycuk dagnabbit hoedown.' Anyway, she said to tell you her name was Revenant." Bram's face lit up a bit. "Thanks, Marlow." Under his breath, while Bram walked up, Marlow muttered "Lucky beggar." Penitent smiled slightly as he saw Revenant, still clutching his drink, but his face fell a bit. "Hey, Rev..." He sighed, looking down at his drink. "It's... It's good to see you, I just wish it were a better time... You're uh... Looking great..." He looked down at the floor. "I know you've heard, and I just want to say... It wasn't me. I know you don't know me too well, but I'd never kill anyone. I don't believe in that, and now the city's turned on me and... It's cuz of these stupid horns." "You here to take me in, Rev? I won't fight."

1d20+3=14 Starlight remains unnoticed.

GM Marlow sighed as he heard a knock on the door. "Alright, I'm gonna get that. You will stay here." Marlow quickly poured Bram a glass of scotch. "Here, take this, it should calm your nerves a bit." Bram nodded, and took the scotch, staring at it for a moment, before giving another nod of compliance to Marlow. He stared at the glass, watching the oily little swirls, before taking a sip and letting the burn rush down his throat. He sighed miserably, looking down at the glass again. Was it already the end of his career? What was the right thing to do, here? Should he just turn himself in? Was that the right thing to do? And what would happen when the cops came for him? "Dangit..." Meanwhile, Marlow opened up the front door, clenching the deringer in his pocket. "Hello?" He looked Revenant up and down. "I mean hello."