Amorkca

Wolfire
 
Robert Gramsky was a monster-movie fanatic, whether it was vampires, werewolves, or vampires vs werewolves. It was his escape from being a boring person with a boring job and a boring life. It would've continued to be boring until he decided to work extra-late one evening. On his way to his car after work, he met a man who looked like some mad scientist from one of those bad grade-z werewolf movies. Maybe it was the way the guy kept staring at him, or maybe it was the way he kept smiling; whatever it was, it was odd. A blow on the head from behind him stopped his thoughts.
 
When he awoke, he was strapped down onto a steel table in some strange laboratory. The man from before had a helper beside him and told Robert he hadn't experimented on anyone in months. "How would you like to be a werewolf, hmm?" Robert's reply surprised the man, "A werewolf? Yeah! Or a vampire? Can you make a vampire? Howabout both?" The scientist never had anyone volunteer and the subject was so willing. Very well, both! It would be the last experiment for the scientist.
 
Through mad science, Robert was transformed into a pseudo werewolf/vampire. Although not truly really a vampire or werewolf but a scientific-experiment approximation, he was still a blood-thirsty monster now.  A vicious one; a strong one. Snapping the restraints, the scientist and his helper were killed by the monster and it ran off into the night. It was within a week that the newspaper dubbed him "Wolfire" - the werewolf/vampire monster.
 
Wolfire is especially hard to stop, even by superheroes. With his agility, his claws can make short work of anyone without some protection. Even if cornered, he can transform into a man-sized bat to escape. His most vicious attack is his bite, which also drains victims of their energy. His bizarre appearance bothers even superheroes who don't seem to flinch at anything.

Ann Hathaway for Oceans whatever, looking more like the Scarlet Witch than the Scarlet Witch
 

Anyone who would steal tickets to an Amy Grant concert is going straight to Hell.

This show was highly recommended to me, so I just started watching.  I'm a few episodes in, and I was struck with this thought:
 
"She forgot to buy rPD."
 
Some people don't learn the lesson Seeker taught us all back in 3rd Ed.

Ideally, the cursed item is so useful and powerful that the player doesn't want to part with it no matter how miserable it makes their character.  Like Elric with Stormbringer; its just too useful to him despite its evil and treacherous nature.  Curses are usually more subtle than a big blast of power, things like "turns your money to ashes" or "ruins your love life" are more common.  Ill health, poverty, loneliness, unhappiness, bad luck, that kind of thing.  Yeah, this ring gives you levitation and +5 DCV vs arrows, but it also gives you 2d6 of Unluck.  Is it worth it?

I've never really liked the D&D system of making cursed items impossible to remove.  Its more interesting and useful to make the player(s) have to decide between the item's utility and its drawbacks.  Is it really worth it?  In one scenario I gave the party a very, very powerful item that had random but very nasty effects on targets, like "the earth opens up and swallows them."  But it was constantly hunted by invisible demons and so evil it made them uncomfortable to hold (and, had they encountered civilization, would have made them the target of witch hunts and shunning).  They finally decided it just wasn't worth keeping and honestly were kind of afraid of it.

like this image but is a little vampiric
 
 
 

4
Clonus groaned. He rubbed his face. He didn’t need the trouble now. How did he get
rid of Tribe?
 
The thin man walked toward the trucks outside of the lair. It had been a good move
to install cameras for security. How did he handle this problem?
 
He certainly couldn’t let Assault know their security was compromised. The criminal
mastermind was obsessed with no one knowing he was still alive. He would lose his
mind if he knew that Tribe was that close to exposing him to the world.
 
Clonus considered what he should do as he watched the hero approach the trucks. He
needed them to transport Assault’s prize. He couldn’t let them be sabotaged.
 
He also couldn’t let Assault know that Tribe was outside the secret lair. That would
invoke a row that he didn’t need.
 
He decided that he could put Tribe in one of the other buildings long enough to get
Assault’s target, and clear out. It would take a moment’s bit of work.
 
He split until he could reach the skylight in the ceiling of the renovated building. It
had taken a few days to get it to where he wanted it before he furnished it. With Tribe
so close, he would have to abandon it before the authorities started searching for it.
He snarled as he pulled himself out of the skylight and drew in his clones. He walked
over to the edge of the building where he could see Tribe walking around the trucks.
The thin man must be casting about for a trail.
 
At least he had a chance to deal with things before they got even more out of hand.
He split to drop down to the lot. He kept splitting so his army approached in a silent
wave. He couldn’t let Tribe fight back. Everything depended on taking the hero apart
before anything else could go wrong.
 
The clone army fell on top of the intruder. There was no time for any mercy. Tribe
went down under the fists and feet of his opponent before he could defend himself.
He groaned as one man army looked for a place to hide him until his business was
done. He saw a truck loading up cargo at one of the other industrial places nearby.
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it might buy time until he could make his move for
Assault’s prize. It would also get Tribe away from the scene and shipped to a random
location until he could move his things out.
 
On the other hand, as soon as he had put Tribe on the road, he would have to start
moving his things to his next hideout to avoid giving another beating.
 
He doubted Assault would understand the move, but he wasn’t going to explain it. He
didn’t want any trouble with the pain in the neck.
 
He gathered Tribe up. He didn’t care about the broken bones he had handed out
making things more painful for the hero. He needed to get the dingo away from the
site for as long as he could.
 
He carried the nuisance across the space in a wave of bodies, throwing him over the
fence around the other property, and flinging him in the back of the truck with the
already loaded cargo. The driver and loaders were nowhere to be found. He put one
of his guys behind the wheel after strapping Tribe down with the cargo. He closed the
door and told his clone to start driving.
 
He watched the truck pull out of the lot. That should buy him enough time to relocate.
He had to hurry if he wanted to get things done before Tribe brought the authorities
back to his headquarters.
 
He decided not to warn Assault. He didn’t need the headache of the other villain
complaining about how he did things, and he didn’t care about the other villain
wanting to keep his survival under wraps.
 
If he was there when Tribe came back, then he could deal with Tribe.
 
Clonus planned to be at his backup place so he could avoid any problems for himself.
He flowed back to his headquarters. He started packing everything up and loading the
loot on the trucks. He thought that was how Tribe had tracked him down. He should
have hidden them better from the street.
 
He looked around for Assault. The last thing he needed was to exchange words with
his contractee. Maybe he could beat Assault into the ground, maybe he couldn’t. He
was getting paid not to try while he was needed to steal something for the blowhard.
He would have to watch his back after the job was over. He didn’t need Assault trying
to clean house by burying him in the Outback somewhere.
 
He finished packing and inspecting his former lair in a few minutes. He would have
to find another place where no one cared about trucks waiting at the loading docks
of the building.
 
Assault would have to find his new lair, but that should be a breeze for the master
villain.
 
Clonus smiled at that. Assault probably had something that tracked his movements
and called him to show that the duplicator was out and about. Nothing he could do
about that.
 
He checked on-line adverts for anything he could use as a lair. He also put in a search
for closed companies so he could move in those places.
 
He found a ranch on the edge of the city that was up for sell. No one seemed to have
moved in yet. It might be perfect for what he wanted.
 
At the very least he could put in a bid for it.
 
He still didn’t have any information on when the pieces were coming in. He decided
that he should at least let Assault know that he was moving. That would prevent the
temper tantrum he saw in the future.
 
At the very least, it might cause Assault to hurry his end of things up so problems
could be smoothed away by fast action.
 
That would make it easier to lead him into a trap and get rid of his threat at the same
time.
 
He liked that. He would have to get another truck, but that was child’s play.
 
And with Tribe wandering around the city in the back of a cargo truck, he could
truthfully say he was covering his tracks.
 
Assault wouldn’t like it, but that wasn’t his problem.
 
Clonus sent a text to his boss. He waited for the inevitable reply.
 
He smiled when his phone buzzed as he moved out with his trucks and loot. How did
he put this in the best light? He scratched his head. He had no idea that there was a
best light. It was best to break the news straight so the emotional outburst could be
dealt with and they could move on.
 
“How’s it going?,” asked Clonus.
 
He held the phone away from his ear as he directed his clone to drive. He waited until
he couldn’t hear the enraged voice any more.
 
“Did that feel good?,” he said. “You need to work on that bad temper. That kind of
thing leads to strokes and heart attacks.”
 
He waited for the next tirade to end before he spoke again. He wanted to keep his
hearing in that one ear.
 
“I loaded him into a truck and sent him out of town,” said Clonus. “I’m moving my
lair right now. How much longer before you know when you need me to move?”
 
The response was a little more pensive than he was used to from his employer.
 
“All right,” said Clonus. “I don’t know where I’m going to hide at the moment. I’ll
let you know when we quit driving. You let me know of the general location of the
targets so I can do the job.”
 
He waited out the brief storm of words.
 
“You can always hire someone else,” Clonus said. He hung up before he had to listen
to another diatribe.
 
“Some people,” he said to his clone.
 
“I know, right,” said the clone. “Always talking, always with the threats. Like we
don’t have feelings or something.”
 
“We really need to expose him and make sure he gets taken in,” said Clonus. “I don’t
like the idea of having him at our back.”
 
“You’re telling me,” said Driver Clonus. “He might try to kill us to preserve his
precious anonymity. Probably doesn’t want to run into a big timer like the Leaguer
while he’s trying to get his scheme going.”
 
“Nobody wants to run into the Leaguer,” said Clonus. “Take us to that house I was
looking at, and we’ll see if we can fix it up into a new lair.”
 
“Might not be able to with Assault running around,” said Driver Clonus.
 
“I know,” said Clonus. “That’s why I want to cut him out if we can.”
 
“I’ll say,” said Driver Clonus. He gave Clonus a thumb’s up in agreement.
 
“Keep your eyes on the road,” said Clonus. “We don’t want to run into any blue boys
while we’re moving.”
 
“You don’t have to tell me, brother,” said Driver Clonus.
 
The little parade rolled through town as Clonus waited for Assault to call him back.
Did the master villain have the contacts to get the job done? Did any of them know
who they were dealing with, and what he would do if they found out?
 
He didn’t think so.
 
A murderer never let the victim know they were the target unless they couldn’t help
it.
 
Assault would never tell his assets for whom they were working. That would be
asking for trouble in the criminal dog eat dog world.
 
And it would destroy his precious anonymity if he missed someone bragging about
him being their boss.
 
Clonus smiled when he saw the property he wanted coming into view. It was outside
the city proper with some acreage, and a nice looking building. He needed some
security put in but he could do that after he settled on how to pay for the thing.
 
You could steal a house, but that only lasted as long as it took someone from
the authorities to come around and ask why you were living in someone else’s
property.
 
It was far better to buy the house and pretend you were a law abiding citizen.
 
Then the coppers had to get warrants and such to even touch your property.
It appealed to him to try and make them prove he was Clonus and he had stolen
everything in the house.
 
He smiled at the thought, but knew that the police only needed probable cause to
arrest him. Warrants for searches would come after when he couldn’t hide anything.
His clones would make sure they wouldn’t find anything.
 
He could dig out the space under the house and reinforce it for personal use. An army
of manpower would help that along when he was ready.
 
The pyramids weren’t built in a day, but they were built with so many hands that
combined individual strengths. He did the same thing.
 
Clonus directed the convoy to the back of the house, and told the drivers to wait. He
needed some regular clothes and the number of the real estate agent.
 
He went to the back of one of the trucks. He opened the door and climbed in. He
climbed out a few minutes later in what was usually called business casual. He
walked to the front of the house to examine the sign for the selling agency.
 
Time to settle down in an old disguise.

No.

Great pic!  I have to add him to my game world!
 
The call came in at 2:19 a.m.  - three car accident on Halsted and 18th.  Given that it was less than 20 minutes since bars close their doors, it's a pretty safe bet the police report on this will include the words, "alcohol was a factor."  And being just south of the university, I'd give it even odds the DUI is underage as well.  I sighed and hit the lights and siren while my partner Caren did a quick U-turn on Roosevelt and started heading east at a good clip.  While she dodged around the nimrods driving late at night, I moved to the back to prep our stuff. 
 
In less time that it'd take you to whistle the theme to Emergency! we were on the scene.  It was a bad one - I was pretty sure we'd need the Jaws of Life to get the driver out of one car where a black SUV had smashed into it broadside, and a Mini-Cooper had somehow ended up on its side a short distance away.  I popped open the back door, case in hand, and was hopping out before Caren even had the ambulance fully stopped.  I could see a guy and a girl standing beside the SUV, looked like some minor lacerations but judging by the fact both were standing around, and the way the guy was cursing up a storm, probably not terribly serious.  Looked like he was the one who t-boned the trapped driver, so I was guessing Captain Curser was the DUI.  I waved Caren toward the sideways Mini and headed for the car with the trapped driver. She's a good kid, smart and skilled, but let's face it, she's no superheroine like Sentinel.  Or a superhero like me, for that matter.
 
That's when I smelled the smoke.
 
Aw crap.  I looked at the couple standing around like morons, pointed toward the ambulance and yelled, "Get clear!" then broke into a sprint.  Sliding to a halt beside the car, I could see that it would definitely take more than a few normal tugs on the door to get this guy clear.  His head was moving, so I knew he was still alive.  But judging by the flames I could see flickering under the hood, he wouldn't be alive for long if I didn't get him out of there. 
 
A quick glance told me the nimrod couple weren't looking, and Caren was busy at the Mini, so it was clear, but I'd have to be quick.  I flexed my muscles, shouldered the SUV away a few feet, grabbed the car's door by the frame, and wrenched it free in one pull. The guy's leg was still trapped, but a few pulls at the bottom frame freed it.  By then, the flames were getting bigger, so I pulled the guy out, giving him a quick dose of healing energy (and hoping nobody saw my glowing hands).  Within seconds, we were both far enough away that the fire was no danger to us, and I could lay him down and start checking his vitals.  Nobody was kicking up a fuss or asking questions, so it looked like my secret was still safe.  For now.
 
- - - - - - - -
 
Charlie Green is the paranormal EMT known as Para-Medic.  Super-strong, tough as nails, and able to infuse the injured with healing energy, he is a true-blue hero of the Windy City.  When he's not driving an ambulance around the city, he's usually flying overhead, helping his fellow EMTs to save lives.

I'm sure that you can say you're using your cell phones and someone with Money could buy high quality ones, but someone villain with Systems Operation could start tracking.

I prefer fewer [mechanical] options and firmly believe it leads to better characters. If you focus on rules to differentiate characters you aren't focusing on their actual character. I have played in single-class / single-species parties composed of highly memorable and distinct characters. The focus wasn't on how to build the character, but how to play them. Their backgrounds, personalities, aesthetics, and exploits made them who they were. Those kinds of parties are also much easier to root in their milieu and create compelling stories for. 

More likely Demon... they are nefarious!!

It is one thing to be fired on by a flying man or woman, or to be punched through a wall by someone who is all one primary colour. But what happens when you get hit by what resembles a tower block or a brownstone ?
Certainly one of the most unusual beings OBCity is a large being which seems to be a sentient city or metropolis in a man sized shape. It can understand what is being said and is protective of innocents. However it is not in charge, one of the others is.

Wow! That is indefinitely suspended . . . . ?
 

There is a character named Jinx in the Villain Codex Vol 1 who is a luck based character you may want to take a look at.

I just saw Incredibles 2.
 
Start with the corny punny name.
 
Build the rest of the character around that.

I've been putting together comic covers to summarize each time our group plays.
 
Trouble Mounts: summoned to a mystical fight club on a mountain
Knight Watch: a cursed knight tries to steal a magical artifact
In Deep Voodoo: pursuing the chicken man
Safe Keeping: we hid the the artifact in our safe and the knight tried to steal it again
All Hollow Sieve: on Halloween, the demon inside our teammate escaped
Knight Clubbing: we finally lay the smack down on the cursed knight
Spell Bound: we capture Etrigan who is amped up on ley lines
Isle Eagle Alien: we check into an alert on hawkgirl's weapons cache island
Fangs Fur Visiting: we go to a mythical land to return a boy to his homeland
Nature Bound: we're trapped by giant spiders and jungle plants
Hell Hydra: we fight a multi-headed beast
 
(there are a few issue covers missing thanks to some corrupted files)

... and now I want to know about the infamous WKRP incident.  I'm imagining something along the lines of:
 
Les Nessman:  "Oh my goodness! Oh, the humanity! People are running about| Turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement!"
 

There is a deleted scene in Galaxy Quest which proves the point.

In my Secret Worlds game, our last big session was about five hours of a running gun battle, from the basement of an office tower to about the seventh floor (invading a PMC corporate HQ). The PCs are all above average, Jason Bourne levels, vs. trained, well armed, but much more normal troops. The dice went incredibly bad for them all night long, including one PC who had a 3 rolled against him on the very first burst from a bad guy of the game, and had to spend half of his luck chits just to take a heavy wound, rather than be greased, then rolled an 18 himself near the end of the fight, so that he failed to take out a shooter, and died subsequently (all out of chits on his end by that point.) At least two other "3s" were rolled against the PCs that evening, at least these were bad guy perception rolls and such, so didn't directly kill a character... but that was four rolls of 3 or 18 in one session, where we usually go multiple sessions without either coming up.  Also, at least 5 times, a roll massively in favor of the PCs went against them. Once, a character had the drop on a bad guy with a shotgun. Granted he was untrained with guns (master hand to hand, not so much with guns) and nearly missed, then only hit the Hand (6) on hit location... then rolled 2 1's for damage.  He essentially blew the guys fingers off and pissed him off so bad that he began just hosing the area with bullets for the next several rounds. Another guy needed a 15- to hit one shot, rolled a 16 and the return fire was really ugly. At least twice the bad guys needed a 7 or less to hit... and rolled 5s with automatic weapons, hitting twice!
 
It was so ugly. The players were both really into it and amazed only one of them died, but also dispirited. They weren't blaming me, but every roll was like, "OH COME ON!" as the "bad beats" (in poker terms) just kept coming.

It was in the nature of the game for things to be this bloody, and honestly they actually secured their objective (place a hack and rescue a captured comrade) but the fight was a loss by all gaming standards, and they lost one. I felt bad, but as the guy who lost his character said, "It's just math. You can't be mad at math."*
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* He was really mad at math, actually. 

True, and if they ever run into STAR in an Oppositional manner they are in serious trouble.  However, a bunch of gang bangers are not big on tactics.  The fights tended to have the heroes doing lightning strikes, the gangers did not even really get a chance...The only reason damage was done was that Dragonfly (think Blue Beetle-Ted Kord) stuck around to try to get some evidence when he knew the government was on it's way.
 
I really appreciate the comment about my players trust me.  Part of that trust is that I am not "out to get them", but rather a good story.  Gangers are not going to be using SWAT like tactics, or have super level attributes, and any big threat will be warned ahead of time...
 
Overall I consider the adventure a success.  I really need to write up the blog entry about how it went...

One of the best MA I ever saw had a TON of 3 point CSL (I think it was 12) with Dodge, Strike, and Grab.  No powers or MA's
 
The guy was a NIGHTMARE, using the CSL's to up the str of his attacks, 25 DCV on a dodge, just terrifying...

Outside of doing rewrites of existing agencies, I’d like to see a private for-profit agency which looks for applications of superpowers for real world purposes. Then the agency goes out and recruits the super for the job whether the super was a hero or villain.
 
I had an agency called S.P.I.R.E. (Super Powers Investgative Research Enterprises) which did that.
 
For example, they might find a religious organization which was wanting to build a temple on a mountaintop then find a super who could carry 50 ton blocks of stone up a mountainside and bring them together.
 
Or bring together people who can work easily underwater with groups doing underwater research. Or bring together supers who access inter-dimensional energy with programs looking at such energies.
 
In my campaign, SPIRE would contact villains while in prison and assess their suitability for employment. Then show up at parole hearings for some of them to testify on behalf of the convict and promise him immediate employment if released immediately. Or in a few situations, actually provide legal help to the prisoner.
 
It’d tick off the heroes who mostly wanted villains to stay in jail. But some villains actually reformed. And other villains who weren’t actively being hunted by the police at that point in time would contact SPIRE first when they needed money rather than starting a crime spree.
 
And SPIRE offered career and emotional counseling for any super regardless of ability to pay or whether the super agreed to work for SPIRE or not.
 
For a villains book, the ultimate goal of the organization would have to change, of course.
 
In addition to all its legitimate activity, It would be falsely testifying at parole hearings in order to get unrepentant villains released. Perhaps it also secretly helps recruit supers for illegal activities Perhaps its counseling services tries to identity psychological weaknesses, uncover secret identities, etc. Perhaps it offers free medical services or otherwise tries to collect supers’ DNA for their own use or for sale.
 
There’s a lot of possibilities for an organization which cultivated an image of respectability and which has extensive contact with supers on both sides of the law.