(IC) Gulf State Guardsmen (RCU) Adventure #3

[jcjec]

Using her good arm, Ortiz flipped her coffee cup over to make it easier for the waitress to pour. "Not nearly as much as I do. We lost several good men the other day, but I also appreciate the fact that you all got there when you did. As easily as they blew through us, I'm afraid of what would have happened to the rest of the platoon if you hadn't shown up when you did."

The middle-aged waitress dropped a couple of menus on the table and began pouring Ortiz's cup. When she moved toward Magnaflux, she looked at him for the first time, a bit of recognition on her face. "You look familiar. You somebody famous?"

Ortiz, who had brought the cup toward her mouth, snickered.

[DeusPravus]

Shaper
HP:1

"Benjamin is based out of New York, and travels quite a bit for business, so he may send one of his representatives, but yes, a meeting should be able to be arranged. I'll orchestrate everything for you. Just send me your schedule and I'll set something up. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Matthews?"

"That will work, I'll give you my schedule as best I know it, but if something comes up, I'm sure you'll see it on the news. That should be everything Mr. Wertham, look forward to working with you."

As the call ended, Shaper reclined in his chair, while his fingers danced over the input pad on his gauntlets. Bringing up a visualization of his schedule, he tried his best to identify blocks of time where he didn't already have commitments, and ran it through an algorithm that accounted for typical supervillain activity to give him the best shot at being able to make it to the meeting undisturbed.

Shaper forwarded the text output of his work to Mr. Wertham, and decided to order a lunch delivery from a nearby deli shop to his home. Honestly, Shaper wouldn't have minded the jaunt out in the sun, but being a well-known face did have its disadvantages, and he wasn't quite in the mood for the questions or stares.

[Shadowbourne]

Wraith
HP:1 Cnd: Dark anger

Stephyn feels the fury and rage wash across him with contempt added in for flavor. All that did was stir up the dark malevolence that flowed within his body. Dark tendrils coiled just beneath his flesh as his own shadow actually grew three times its size in the blink of an eye. But, just as quick as that anger surfaced, the former Mage Knight leveraged his iron will against the beast within...both the monster and his own pride. With gritted teeth, Wraith pulled the darkness back. His anger, though did not retreat...it sat there and stoked.

A couple of heartbeats pass as Stephyn gathers his wits. He knows that Fontaine felt the swelling of darkness. He knows that the old man goaded him on purpose. He knows that one wrong move would have dire consequences for his future. He also knows that he can do nothing about the fire that runs through his veins. That wasn't a beast or forbidden magic at work...that was heredity, pure and simple.

For Stephyn, it wasn't the devil that made him do it...no, it was his mother and father that did. For Stephyn, the reply was nothing more than genetics at play.

So, as the words flowed from his lips, they were cast with an angry sneer...an almost challenge...almost, "I was doing my Civic duty. Being a good citizen and helping the authorities...like a TRUE knight would!...Magister Fontaine."

[jcjec]

As the call ended, Shaper reclined in his chair, while his fingers danced over the input pad on his gauntlets. Bringing up a visualization of his schedule, he tried his best to identify blocks of time where he didn't already have commitments, and ran it through an algorithm that accounted for typical supervillain activity to give him the best shot at being able to make it to the meeting undisturbed.

Shaper forwarded the text output of his work to Mr. Wertham, and decided to order a lunch delivery from a nearby deli shop to his home. Honestly, Shaper wouldn't have minded the jaunt out in the sun, but being a well-known face did have its disadvantages, and he wasn't quite in the mood for the questions or stares.

Having finished placing his order, Shaper's eyes were drawn back to his gauntlet, like a habitual texter constantly glances at their savantphone. The display was lit up from an ongoing program that was designed to report disturbances, but didn't bare the standard descriptors. Instead, it simply held the location of the disturbance -- roughly a half mile from Shaper's home.

[jcjec]

The old man's ears moved slightly, visible due to his reduced amount of hair. They returned to normal before he turned to look at Stephyn, a scowl firmly in place. "And, of course, you know what a knight would do. After all, your track record so far as a member of this organization has been exemplary so far. Just like your uncle, and other members of the Parthenos clan before him. After all, what could possibly be wrong with a member of a secret organization like ourselves being caught by the media." The sarcasm and superiority practically dripped from his words.

[DeusPravus]

Shaper
HP:1
Condition: Curious

Shaper looked at the alert flashing on his gauntlet. As a matter of curiosity, he had set up a program in the background that would notify him of nearby events as they came up on any of the police or law enforcement databases, as well as larger scale events from non-local sources. However, most of the time, these alerts had additional information. This one merely had an address.

Setting up a notification to tell the team of his location, to be sent in an hour, Shaper changed into his costume. He could always cancel the alert if it was a false alarm or something trivial, but a small nagging sensation made him want the cavalry available if for some reason it was beyond his ability. In all likelihood though, it was probably something small, like a robbery.

Stepping out of his apartment, Shaper launched himself into the sky, heading toward the location of the disturbance.

[jcjec]

Within moments, Shaper found himself at the address, looking down at an odd picture. Two beat cops were standing on either side of a fire hydrant, though it was colored gold instead of the typical red. Both men looked nervous with hands on their guns, ready to be drawn. On either side of them, less than a block away, two crowds of a half dozen people, give or take, mulled around, restless. They seemed angry, with some of them picking up various objects that could theoretically be used as weapons.

[Horsenhero]

King Croc
Wallace G. Dorre
HP 1

The sight of the unsheathed knife falling out of the box was a shock to Wally, but not as big a shock as the feel of it.

*Thunk!* Right in the foot.

"Son of a...!! Nnrgh! Even when they aren't here my parents are torturing me!"

So, a Raw Dex Check DC10. 1d20+0=7.http://roll.coyotecode.net/lookup.php?rollid=147539

[Hero4hire]

Mangrove

"Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of this." He slid her hand off his arm and started walking forward.

"Be careful, Tag."

Mangrove saw the new "boyfriend" start to make his way towards him. He watched and with each step towards him he felt a red hot anger grow within him. The Man he was filling the Plant-man with rage. A dozens of images filled his head; ways he would make the offending man suffer!

OOC
I am thinking of adding the complication "Legally Dead/Tortured by Former Life" on his sheet.

[jcjec]

The strange blade stuck straight up for about two seconds, less than an eighth of an inch of the tip sticking into King Croc's hide and failing to penetrate the dermis layers of skin. The very sharp blade then began to wobble, then fall loose and clunk onto the shack floor.

In his hands, King Croc is able to feel the weight of two more objects, one shifting slightly and a smaller one sliding toward the open hole.

[jcjec]

As Tagget advances and he gains a better look at the creature in front of him, his machismo began to waver. After all, this thing was a monster. But he had to put on a good show. "Go on, ya monster. Get outta here. You're not wanted." Feeling a surge of adrenaline kick in, he followed it up with, "don't make me kick your @$$."

All around, savantphones were being drawn. A few were being dialed, but the majority were being pointed and used as a recording devise.

[DeusPravus]

Shaper
HP:1
Condition: Still curious

Shaper looked at the now gold colored fire hydrant with curiosity. Note to self, invent goggles with material analysis capabilities. Not far away, he could see a crowd milling about, but Shaper wasn't sure if the hydrant and the crowd had any connection.

Shaper slowly raised his right arm to wave at the officers to try and get their attention. "What seems to be the trouble here, officers? Anything I can help with?"

[jcjec]

The officer on the north side looked up in the sky, briefly confusing Shaper for a bird or a plane. "Its the fire hydrant. They want it. Its somehow turned to gold."

[Horsenhero]

King Croc
Wallace G. Dorre
HP 1

Wally snickered to himself as the blade fell over. He'd forgotten that he'd taken a dose of Swamp Water before he started cleaning up, just in case there was any heavy lifting to be done. For once his aversion to breaking a sweat on menial labor worked out to his advantage. If he'd been regular, human Wally, that knife would've been a trip to the emergency room. For the mighty Sarcosucchus Imperator it wasn't even a flesh wound. Still, better safe than sorry where the other things in the box were concerned.

Squatting down, he tilted the box ever so slightly, so the items within could spill gently out onto the wooden floor.

[jcjec]

((OOC: Sorry if I assumed he was in Croc form. As he was waiting to go out to do some crime-fighting, I guess I assumed he was in that form. Worked out well for you, though.))

A second dagger, matching the first, fell out of the hole. Down close, Wally could not only make out the runes on the handles and blade, but also the fact that they were razor sharp.... and had dried, old blood on them.

The larger item in the box wasn't able to fall out of the hole, but when opened the rest of the way, he could tell that it was an old book, bound in a strange leather. The language the book was written in was unfamiliar, based on some form of hieroglyphics as far as Wally could tell at first glance. It also stank, especially in his King Croc form, with the symbols written in a dark red instead of black or brown, as might be expected.