csyphrett

Re: The New Circle 3 Character Name: The Trash Real Name: N/A Nationality: American Hair/Eye Color: N/A Place of Birth: Ragland Landfill and Waste Disposal Date of Birth: 3/19/2000 Height/Mass: Variable. Cost Characteristic Value 26 STR 36 42 DEX 24 40 CON 30 60 BODY 40 -2 INT 8 10 EGO 15 10 PRE 20 - 3 COM 4 PD 7 ED 6 SPD 3 REC 13 END 60 STUN 72 OCV: 8 DCV: 8 OECV: 5 DECV: 5 Phases: 3,6,12 Cost Powers and Talents (END) Trash Body: Full Life Support 45 pts Trash Body: Automaton Body does not bleed, takes no stun 75 pts Trash Body: 2d6 Regeneration(20 pts), can heal limbs (+5 pts), self only (-½), extra time (-1), only in trash (-½) 8 pts. Trash Body: Desolidification, Str affects real world (+1), reduced end (+1/2), Always on (-1/2), not through solids (-½). 50 pts Trash Monster 20 pt multipower 1u Teleportation 15", 30 pts, must pass through intervening space (-1/4), only to large amounts of trash (-1) 11 pts. 1u Invisibility versus sight, (20 pts) only in trash (-1), only when not moving (-1). 6 pts 2u Invisibility versus hearing. 20 pts. Cost Skills 30 + 15 vpp pool, only skills (-1), no conscious control (-1) 15 pts 150 Points Disadvantages 30 Hunted by EPA 11- 30 Hunted by Viper 11- 15 psych lim: Loves to ambush opponents 15 Psych Lim: Protective of his neighborhood. 15 Reputation: Sneaky, no good varmint (14-) 30 Vulnerability: 2 x body from fires 15 Secret: Once Human CHA Cost = 183 Total Powers Cost = 202 Total Skills Cost = 15 Total Cost = 400 Plot Hook 1) Homeless people are being killed more than usual. Fragments of trash at the scene convinces the authorities that the Trash has gone out of control. Is it really the defending garbage, or a clever killer with a gimmick? Plot Hook 2) Other Trash are seen in the streets making an exodus to a public area. They crash through anything in their way. At their destination, the ground emits a strange glow. Are the Trash aliens from another planet, or a mind controlled army being assembled to strike? And where did the other heaps come from in the first place? Plot Hook 3) Walter Peck is a man with a mission. He finally has the authority to go after the Trash with everything the government can give. When the city becomes a battlefield between the EPA and the Trash, things are bound to get more than a little messy. It's time for the heroes to step in and solve this matter. Gm's note: The Trash could have been an urban Man-Thing, or Swamp Thing, but the actual inspiration was the original version of the Ragman. Then I overlaid the others on top of him. I'm sorry about the wait for this to be finished, but he is the last Rover. Now I can do another team, or start on more fifties heroes. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... I have only seen three intelligent animals if that dog in Tick Tock was a dog, and two implanted memories. I am more bothered that half the protagonists/heroes of his books have a defective DNPC, bad family relations backgrounds, and develop the same set of super abilities. One Door/comatose sister, Velocity/comatose fiance, By the light of the moon/autistic brother, frankenstein/autistic brother, Bad Place/down's syndrome off the top of my head. The super powers tend to be teleportation/gating, clairvoyance, some psychometry, and at least two examples of remote telekinesis CES.

Re: Help me populate a "No Man's Land" city Air Riders- In the wake of global destruction, freak waves of energy have been released in the city. Seeing this as the new sport, board riders have congregated to ride this new surf among the debris and towers of town. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... Just finished One Door Away from Heaven by Dean Koontz. Has a lot of his common stereotypes crammed into one book. Heroines with tragic childhoods, serial killer who kills for a cause, eccentric background characters, unhelpful authority in one scene, quantum mechanics as God's imagination, and hero who wants to change the world if he can survive being hunted by bad aliens. CES

Re: Help me populate a "No Man's Land" city Pat Pitt- A kid who has become a hero of the neighborhood, protecting the helpless from the predators that have seized the town. Pat can duplicate himself and create holes. CES

Re: Best Mystic comic/character ever? I always liked the Phantom Stranger before Paul Kupperberg and Alan Moore. CES

Re: Concept: The Clockwork Man Most cyborgs are built with physical enhancements with EB as a weapon of some sort. Limbs with metal cables inside might match up with the Machine Man style stretching. Steam is going to need built in boilers. Those could be vulnerable to attacks. Hit one and it shuts something down. CES

Re: Rainbow Squad Bridewell did create most (if not all) of the Global Guardians before they were killed off, and wrote about half the stories for the Second Dial H series. CES

Re: List of Forum Members - Super Teams & Members Teen Guardians/Chance City Pusher-Transform EBer Tachyon- Speedster Hardball- Ranged MA EMP- Empathic gadgeteer Solo hero Nariko-gadgeteer/portable machine shop Reserve Titan-Sizechanging brick Lady Flame-Half dragon Katido-cat girl

Re: The Magistracy's Baby Epilogue The writer took the loose pages from his globulus minion. He placed them one at a time in the template with the other two pages secured by the Halberdier. The operation had been a success, but he had lost a good hireling for the moment. He wrote on the air over the special cradle. He had thought about the combination of symbols for a long time. Each one had to be perfect. The glowing letters dropped on the pages. Each one added a glow to the paper, added the characteristic he wanted. Crying erupted from the glow. He smiled as he hurriedly painted more signs in the air with his finger. He was writing a life's beginning in a few moments of time. Things had gone almost exactly as he had planned it. He doubted Stafford would appreciate being used as a Trojan horse. It did the job. That's all that mattered at the moment. The light faded as the letters finished their shaping. A tiny hand flailed over the bars. He smiled as his new son announced his arrival lustfully. He picked up the infant in his arms, rocking him gently. The writer wrapped the baby in a blanket conjured from the air. A smile crossed his face. His son would be the most powerful magician on the planet. There would be nothing he could not do. Dr. Krueger's clones would be his servants, and his army. It was time to think about handing over the reins to someone else. His vast financial empire would allow his son the leisure to plan better controls. The clones would carry out his wishes. His son would be the perfect proxy ruler while he looked at other dimensions to bring under his sway. The best thing about his scheme was he had made the Magistracy look like fools while he did it. The Chemist must be slowing down after all this time. Who would have thought that? "Higgins." The valet appeared at once, face as neutral as ever. "I will be taking a vacation for a while. I want you to oversee my holdings until I get back. Keep everything as quiet as you can. No massacres this time." "Your will is my command." The valet bowed at the waist stiffly. "Shall I ask how long you will be gone?" "Enoch and I will be sequestered until he reaches an appropriate age to handle things for me here on Earth." The writer gazed fondly down at his newborn son, quieting with the steady rocking of arms. "When we return, there shall be a grade on your performance. Don't let me down, Higgins." "I shall try to conduct myself with as exemplary service as I can deliver, sir." Higgins nodded to himself. "Shall I see you off?" "Don't worry about that." The writer carried his bundle to the door of his command center. "Please make sure the template is stored away. I may use it again if I can find the proper ingredients." The writer traced his finger over the cool metal surface of the door. The door slid open on a bright sunny day. He stepped through, holding his son close. "Take care of things, Higgins." The door closed softly, cutting off the sunlight. Higgins went to the wall of television screens. He snapped his fingers, taking in the news services telling him the state of the world. He waved the mechanisms to darkness, picked up the empty wooden frame on his master's desk, and moved to the door. The rest of the day was his to do with as he pleased. He paused in front of the door. "Well, Higgins," he muttered to himself. "The whole world is in your hands. What are you going to do now?" He closed his amber eyes for a minute, smiled at the decision he had made. "I'm going to Disneyland." The valet stepped through the door.

Re: Teen Guardians Tachyon and Pusher 1:45 pm "The school's empty," said Pusher. "It's locked up though." He didn't state the obvious that locks were child's play for him to get around. Patty nodded, the thought of bypassing locks just not occurring to her. "I have this list from the computer in the office," Pusher said. He handed the print out over. Some familiar names leaped out at Patty as she perused it. The blonde frowned, trying to wrap her mind around it. "I don't get it," she said, looking up. "I mean, I do--but its not connecting through." "Everyone on this list is a returnee like you." Pusher ran a gloved finger down the list of twenty five names. "Sandra, Anthony, Tammy, Eric, Dean Martini, your name here. All of these people are one of us. If Heartbreaker is a returnee like Hardball and Eric think, and if she goes to CCHS, then she's one of these females. "Unless she's a female impersonator." Patty nodded. "Well, here's another question," she said, "You've got a list for CCHS--but what about other schools in town? Why are we assuming we're the only ones?" She pursed her lips and sat back, tucking the robe tight. "All right, we can cross these names off the list as being accounted for during attacks, I think," she continued, "and focus on those we can't account for." She took another pencil and pad of paper. "Let's see...we need addresses for them all...and a way to track in on everyone... "Eric said you guys got the paper that matched the notes in the school store," said Pusher. "Yeah," Patty said, digging through her bookbag for the pad that Tammy had left for her. "Here--I have yet to actually analyze it..." Pusher put his hand through the paper, sliding a little along the floor. "It's ordinary paper," he reported. "I can see molecules when I pass through things." "It's the arrangements I'm looking for," she said softly. "Damn, I'm not a molecular biologist-you wouldn't happen to be one either, would you." "I deal in molecules," said Pusher. "It's a knack." "Can you take a look down at the root structure of various sheets of identical sheets?" she asked. "If we can get into the personal effects of one of the dead people--I'd give good money to see the differences in the paper--I know, just know, that they received notes on this stuff." she gestured at the pink pad of paper. "How much are you willing to give?." Pusher didn't point out that he could get in anywhere he wanted. "Hardball would be the one to ask on that, I'm afraid," Patty said, "And I don't think he'd comment either way, because it'd be sharing too much information with the rest of us." Her tone had a note of bitter anger to it. "And I doubt very much he'd listen to me were I to suggest it-I'm just a nosy piece of fluff anyway." "I don't think he knows." Pusher pulled out his personal pad and pencil. "I don't think anyone has ever went after him before. I also think he's worried that his personal life is at risk. If I were in the same position, I would be scared too." Of the names on the list, they could mark out eight out of the twenty five. The easiest were Patty, Tammy, Sandra, Anthony, Jason, Eric. Dean Martini had been a gang boss as an adult, and it was likely his father would have an accident soon. One of the boys had been arrested in the park Monday as the Dragon Boy. If they excluded all the rest of the boys based on gender, that left nine girls as suspects. "It occurs to me--what other similarities do we have? What are the commonalities in all this?" Patty mused, sitting down and staring up at the ceiling; she tugged her robe closed at the throat. "I keep seeing that scene in the original Keaton 'Batman' film where it was a combination of products-and this pad of paper would be the trigger..." She frowned. "Darn, but I wish that we knew for certain if the first victim had received a note written on this paper...and I wonder if Eric has managed to get in to talk to the Captain-and find out if he's gotten any notes on this paper as well..." Claire Bennent, blonde, cheerleader. Dee Dee Dexter, blond, dance student at the Arts Center, volleyball player. Brenda Banks, blond, soccer, basketball, and softball player. Mary Bromfield, brunette, school reporter. Sandy Hawkins, blond, cross country. Joan Dale, brunette, no clubs, no special interests. Jeanine Melnitz, red head, no clubs, no special interests. Sarah Winchester, gray/blond, archery and horsemanship champion. Blanche Deveroux, red head, soccer, basketball, softball player, chess club, band, school paper, last year's prom queen. The girl looked at Pusher. "The next thing is to figure out where those girls are and who they are...and determine the commonality beyond that." She looked at him. "Have any of these others been in detention this week...or when we first came 'to' here..." "According to the log, they were only on detention on Monday like the rest of you," said Pusher. "I seem to be the odd man out at the moment. Eric can break into the school records and look up things for us. The problem is we can't prove if any of these girls have powers are the know how to make an artificial bomb." Patty nodded. "We need to figure out what classes they're in--that could tell us something, so could attendance records...and a locker search." She sighed. "And a copy of the forensics records for the last few victims." She buried her head in her hands for a moment, then looked up with a silly grin. "Too much to do, too little time." "Not really," said Pusher, scribbling the names down for future reference. "We know that most of us returned Monday afternoon. Records before then won't matter. Classes might point us in a direction, who has the know-how to do things. A locker search might turn up something also. A copy of the autopsies should tell us how it was done if we can get in the morgue." "That's why I want into the forensics records--don't need to visit the morgue-already got the samples; I need to really talk to Eric and see if he can figure out a way to get a copy--everything's kept on the computer systems, or it was--but I don't have the knack for raiding computer systems, never did." she looked a little green. "So...we need into the school, onto their system for attendance records and class assignments; we need into the computer records at the station and forensics labs; and I need a laboratory myself to finish sample analysis." "We can do all that." Pusher made a few notes to himself. "Which one do you want to do first?" Emp 2:10 pm Eric nodded to the detective and stood to leave. "I'll see what I can do about getting Anthony to come by but I kinda doubt I'll have much effect. Later Allen." He forced himself to sound more friendly to the detective as he snuck his way out of the police station taking special care not to be around any officer for more than he needed to. Elevators only went so fast. Once he was out he took out his cellphone noting the messages he opted for calling Patty instead of texting back. While he took out a few quarters for the bus. He did after need to appear to be an average teen while around here. Someone might have seen Crush coming in and their might be people looking for him. Detective Allen was sharp and certainly knew his job better than some of morons in the station he'd seen and overheard, that or he put up a good front. Not likely though considering that one sucker question. So being careful was certainly helpful. Patty's phone rang-and she glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open; her whole stance changed to something more relaxed. "Eric!" she said. "What's going on?" "Nothing much, on a bus heading towards your location. Just got done chatting with detective Allen. Nice guy, Anyway I'll tell you more once I get there. Anything going on, on your end?" Patty shook her head and glanced at Pusher. "No-just that reporter-that Carl Kolchak," she said. "Pusher's here as well--just be careful coming in--make sure he doesn't see you, okay?" Eric had a chill go up his spine at the mention of a reporter. "Sure.. No problem I'll get by him in case he's still out there." Her voice went a little softer. "Be careful, okay? I'll have the back door unlocked for you." Patty held the phone to her ear listening to the dead-air that accompanied a hangup...and was glad that Eric has just cut her off like that. Cursing her teenage hormones-God only knew how any of them had managed to survive long enough to make it past puberty-she snapped the phone shut and paced the house, waiting on Eric, waiting on the dryer and her costume, waiting, waiting, waiting... ...she needed a science lab, she needed more information... ...and she ignored what her body said she needed. That...would be bad. "Thanks Patty. I'll see you soon." Eric smiled as he hung up the phone and once his stop arrived he got off and began walking towards Patty's house. He kept an eye out for anyone watching her house as he made his way towards her house in case he had to hide or avoid the person in a hurry. The street was filled with elementary and middle school kids coming home by 2:30. the time Eric reached Patty's street. Some kids from the high school were out throwing a football, stuck at home without a car, or a friend with a license. Eric came through the door she had left unlocked for him. It was a shame the captain's house and the captain's boat seemed to be one and the same but he at least got the meeting with the detective Allen out of the way. "Hey Patty?" he called he hadn't seen her dad's car so he figured he was safe for a little bit. Granted he needed to keep his wits about him. He and Patty definitely had chemistry and that chemistry tended to spark his powers. Last thing either of them needed was her father to come and catch them making out to the Nth degree. Patty actually jumped-she was still seated at the kitchen table, making notes and scribbling on a sheet of paper-the blank pad picked up by Tammy earlier sat before her, unused; she spun quickly, quicker than the robe she was still wearing could keep up with, revealing more than a bit of flesh beneath. She gathered the robe shut and, with theatrical grace, took a step forward towards him and pressed her hand against her chest. "You startled me," she laughed. "How'd it go, Eric?" She looked up at him-the girl stood but an inch beneath five and a half feet, her eyes...blue...and wide...her thoughts...elsewhere. "It went well." Jared Lee looked at a city map, pencil in hand. "His father wasn't there at the station waiting on him. I wonder how long it took to change that flat." Patty jumped again-with Eric's arrival, she'd pushed Jared out of her thoughts...damn these teenage hormones. It took Eric a moment to adjust his mind around the fact she'd spoken as his mind was still reeling from the sight of her body under the robe. "um..er.. right, um. Well it looks like the captain's house is his ship so I wasn't able to sneak on to get a look around as he's not in port yet. However I did send the police the information by my modified cellphone. The meeting with Detective Allen was interesting. First cop I met that I might actually like." He walked towards her "So how are you doing?" "There is that too. Although it was nice not to recognized by any of my dad's friends on the force as well. Gotta love the age old effect of acting like a regular teen...granted I feel pretty regular these days too." Having just noticed Jared was there he figured from the statement Jared had somehow took care of another of his dad's tires. Jared's voice and the sound of the buzzer on the dryer going off was enough to break her 'moment'; she stepped back and gestured to the table. "Have a seat? I was doing, well, some laundry and making it look like I was sick around the house this afternoon." Tucking again the top of the robe about her throat, she said, "'Scuse me-I'll be right back." She dodged downstairs family room and attached laundry room, then, basket in hand, zipped up the stairs to the second floor and her room; she paused when she pulled out her costume-then folded it carefully and sat it upon the edge of her dresser, tossing the robe aside and pulling on jeans and a button-shirt...as the robe flew aside and before she could dress at her accelerated pace, she stared at herself in the mirror and wondered what the hell Eric saw in her: small breasts, narrow hips... ...and got dressed, cursing herself...she'd had a good self-image a week ago and fifteen years older... ...and back down the stairs, her stocking feet slapping against the floor and slid into the seat next to Eric, sliding it a little closer to him. "Okay. We have a bunch of things that we need to do, Eric--did you say when the Captain is supposed to be coming back..." She frowned. "I wonder if he's got any fan mail," Patty wondered allowed, her pencil tapping against the pad of pink paper. "I gave them quite a bit to go on, so more than likely Detective Allen will get hold of either the coast guard or other police units in charge of the water ways. The boat will be covered and he'll likely make it to the school for the opening ceremony. If I was this heart breaker, the only and best option to kill the captain would be there as the police would have to remain somewhat out of sight as to keep the public feeling safe. It's too late to relocate the date of the speech and such so its there that she'll likely have her plan B. If where lucky she'll believe that Hardball had something to do with this snag and will be there anyway just so she can show her 'true love' how she feels." "I don't think she plans to do anything at the ceremony," said Jared. "I think the riddles are a double dare, and I think Hardball is on her list. Why else pick him?" Patty nodded, thinking fast. "Why not--seems to me he was sure he knew who she was, and was sure that this is a misguided attempt to attract his attention romantically, kinda like John Hinckley shooting Reagan in order to get Jodie Foster's love." "I think he's wrong," said Pusher. "I think this is all a game. Part of the rules is to pick a hero and draw him out, then whammy. Could have been Titan, could have been me. She just picked Hardball cause he works the streets." He kept a constant smile on his face the whole time while Patty was sitting next to him. It felt good to finally have someone he could be comfortable around. It also helped having Jared there to help keep his mind on business more than personal pleasure. "I think I might be able to get us a lab so that Patty can take a look and analyze her sample. I more or less started Nu-tech when I was this age its very likely my old passcode can get us into a lab." Patty raised an eyebrow. "You started Nu-tech?" she questioned. "That...somehow makes sense." She gave him a smile and patted his hand. Nu-tech was fairly well known in most hero communities in there time some of there advanced weapons programs had certainly helped the military and on a rare occasion helped some criminals whom managed to get 'special weapons' that where still in the experimental area of testing. Considering Eric's 'past', the group had another look into what Eric use to do. "Not sure what kind of lab they have in the city but it might work for figuring out that bomb of Heartbreaker." "That is if Nu-Tech is still there." Pusher put his pad away. "Didn't you tell me your ex married someone else? Your company might not be there." "We have to get in, first," Patty said. "Which takes us to a few other things: we need to get into the records for the forensic reports on the previous murders-the Principal's won't be available until tomorrow at the earliest--but we need the class schedules of these girls-they're our prime suspects..." "Only one way to find out." Patty gave Eric's hand a small squeeze and headed for the phone; she grabbed up the phone book and went through the white pages under Business rather than Residental, looking for Nu-Tech... "What all might it be listed under besides NuTech?" she asked, sitting back down and actually sliding just a hair closer to Eric so that he could look at the phone book as well. "The headline for the wedding was head of Nu-tech married multibillionaire Jackson Trull. Yeah I remember. Trull is a major jackass but he's no genius. Nu-tech was around before I got there but I put it on the map for military hardware. But when I was this age it was mostly helping come up with ideas. If my code works, don't expect to get into the top secret research areas. I wasn't allowed in there. But a few labs to test out ideas... that's generally okay. Although I doubt you'll find anything rare in there." "I bought a computer," said Pusher. "Why didn't you just wrangle one from this lab?" "I think it was under technology, the listing should read 'new universal technology' Nu-tech." he helped Patty look through the phone book. The closest listing was Newsome Technologies. There was two numbers. One was a one eight hundred number, the other a local number. "Part of a deal I made with the actual owners of Nu-Tech when I was a kid. I could use the equipment but I could never take it with me. After all accountants don't seem to like kids running off with high technology they just paid for." "Did you ever get these guys on your dad in the original timeline?" Pusher went to the phone to call information. "It seems to me if you're supporting yourself, you can get a divorce. Their lawyers could help with that." Eric looked stunned "Actually...that was unheard of in my time line. I might be able to do that here. I'll have to keep that in mind." "Two words." Pusher's blank mask hid his inner thoughts. "Macaulay Caulkin." Patty's fingers wrapped around his hand and she gave him a smile. "Your decision-you know what I think, but I'll support you in whatever you decide." It wasn't just an empty promise from a fifteen-year-old; there was more there-the understanding of what such a promise meant, yet tempered with the knowledge that her abilities were limited. "Where do I bring the plates?." Pusher went to the door. "Let's get started. The school's empty. We can get attendance records and hit our next stop. Any clue how to get samples tested without Tammy? Her father has probably got her on lockdown now." Hardball 1:10 pm "Son." The security guard paused about three feet away from Anthony, hand on his walkie talkie. "I'm going to have to ask you to move on. The school has a no loitering policy." He was a big guy, not in shape. Maybe he was a former athlete gone to seed. Maybe he liked too much of the beer on the weekends. He tried to be politely interested in Anthony, but the biker had an idea he was taking notes in case he needed to use it later. "What's going on, honey bunnikins?" Talia's voice was a tin whisper in his phone. Nariko 2:20 pm "Please tell Dr. Foreman that we have the dog that bit me and he's *not* happy!" said the teleporter as she watched the nasty, drooling beast with fear in her light brown eyes from the farthest corner of the tiny room. "Did the animal control people say how long they'd be?" "About twenty minutes." Dr. Foreman's voice drifted through the wood. "How the heck did you get an animal in here?"

Re: The Magistracy's Baby 14 Phaeton roared through the halls, leaving burning air behind him as he went. The vault room had been placed near the center of the building. The theory was invaders would have to enter through the lobby, the roof, or the sides of the building. Valuables and evidence should be placed where intruders would have to fight to get to it. Silver had a lot of faith that no one was getting through his guys. Phaeton paused outside the metal encased room. There was no way in beyond the door. If those booger things wanted in, they would have to get through him. His forbidding aura said no as he waited for his pint sized enemies. The solar hero didn't have to wait long before the yellow invaders poured from the vents. He blazed away with his heat blasts, but realized that they had multiplied making their way through the metal conduits. They flooded the room around him as he cut the monsters down by the score. The battle triggered the overhead firefighting system. Streams of frozen chemicals dropped down on the foyer. Phaeton tried to burn the cold away, fell, and slid on the floor. He noted that his enemies froze under the onslaught. He tried to get to his feet as the white fog cleared. Fresh jelly babies tackled him through the door, clearing the opposition away from their goal. Phaeton struggled to his feet. His aura flickered. It wasn't much, but it fired the vomit monsters touching him. He boiled away some more with a sweep of his arms. He fought his way back into the vault room. One of the beasts slipped into the cracks of the metal door. It was supposed to be airtight. Phaeton didn't know if the thing could press through to the other side. He had to make sure that didn't happen. First he had to get rid of the ones in the vault room. Phaeton flew across the room near the floor. He boiled any of the little monsters he touched into yellow steam. When he was sure he had taken care of those that had survived the first wave, he went to the safe door and opened it. He had to get rid of that last one. The last one searched several drawers before finding the one it wanted. It squeezed its yellow body through a key hole in the front. Phaeton roared across the vault. He gripped the front of the lock box and pulled. The metal came away with a shriek. The magistrate reached in to grab the booger baby. The menace grabbed the sheets of paper in fingerless hands. A letter appeared around it, whisking it away in a fit of unwriting. "Silver won't like that." Phaeton grimaced as he looked around the vault, hoping nothing else had been taken. "We lost," Phaeton said into his com. "One of them got away with the papers we prevented Stafford and the Triangle from getting." "Marvelous." Silver stood in the control room, looking over his domain. One beating didn't mean the war was over. "We need to finish clearing those things out of the building. Stafford needs to be checked for any more surprises. We'll regroup at the conference room when we're done." Phaeton boiled away the things that had been frozen. Then he checked the contents of the vault that bore signs of tampering. He cleaned the boxes as well as he could under the circumstances, then went in search of Luna after locking everything back up. A few seconds faster he could have prevented the theft. He didn't know why those papers were so important, but he had a feeling he had cost the team heavily. He hoped no one was killed because of his failure.

Re: The Magistracy's Baby 13 Jeff Stafford looked around, feeling something in his throat. His captors had varying looks of concern on their faces. Something was wrong with him. He strained at the cuffs holding him to the chair. They refused to give way. Jeff hurled on the table and carpet. It felt strange. He hadn't vomited since he was still in Basic years ago. He didn't like the way the bile smiled at him from the table top. The mercenary kicked back from the table, trying to stop his throat from doing what it wanted to do. His insides felt crushing pressure. More fluid escaped him as the Magistrates rushed forward to give aid. The bile split apart into droplets, each droplet becoming a featureless humanoid the size of a doll, then they tried to exit the room through the vent system. Some of them did that. Some went for the automatic door. And some went for the Magistracy. Quick tried fanning them out of existence with her speed. The effigies splattered. Each drop became another. She stopped, backing up from the pint sized menace. Luna and John Public were in the same boat. They could defend themselves at the cost of spreading their enemy. Phaeton called on his solar powers, frying the little beasts before they could touch him. His flaming aura and energy beams dissipated them as fast as he could boil them away. He got in front of Luna, and without intending to Quick and John Public. Maker willed a scanner to overlay her visor as she kept back from the yellow gummi bears. The readout said the things were made out of liquid. She didn't have a flame thrower in her armor, but her arm cannon should still be useful. A simple mental command to her factory loaded shells with nanomachines to solve the problem. She fired as the first jelly thing grabbed her ankle. The nanomachines spread out in front of Maker in a shotgun puff of technology. They hit the liquid menace, sinking to the core of the beasts. Then they dropped their temperatures until the yellow bodies turned to icicles. Jerry Silver jumped in front of the door. He glared at the stampede rushing him to get to the rest of the building. He knelt, then fired a bolt of electricity through them. A smile would have come but he had to angle his arc away from his friends. That took some finesse he didn't normally use. The job wasn't over. A lot of those things had made it into the vent system. The door and the attack had been distractions to allow their strike squad a chance to run loose. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were after. "Sound alert, Reilly." Silver thumbed his com for the order. "Little yellow things. They rode in with Stafford." The Chemist opened the door, one hand holding a line in preparation for battle. One look around the room caused him to frown. "Get rid of those things, Chemist." Silver pointed to the frozen icicles. "Quick, get Stafford to sick bay and put him under a microscope. Phaeton, head for the vault room. Chemist and Maker, we need to make sure we get all those things out of the building. Luna, we need weapons for you, John, and Quick to use on the things. We need to go over security after this. This magician guy is punching more holes in the Tower than anything we thought of when we started." The group split up to carry out their tasks. Silver headed for the control room. Sensors had been added to the vent system to keep out pests. Maybe that would help them get a handle on the situation.

Re: The Magistracy's Baby 12 Jerry Silver nodded to the Chemist when he entered the room. He had given the Triangle to Pointer. Some of it was to keep the law man from interfering with their business with the Halberdier. Mostly he didn't need them as long as he had Stafford. And he wasn't giving Stafford up until he had wrung something useful from the man. "What's going on?" The Chemist adjusted his sunglasses as he walked across the operations room. "We're getting ready to talk with Stafford." Silver put out his cigarette. "I got him in a conference room. Maker is trying to run things down from flecks on his costume. Forensics first. We don't want him to shut down again." The Chemist nodded. The mastermind behind the thefts probably had some line on Stafford. As soon as he saw the magician, there was a chance that he would take the mercenary out of the picture again. Why not exhaust other possibilities first? "I found some flecks I can't identify, but the rest is useless as far as locations he might have gone." Maker disconnected from the control panel. "Everything else is native to California. It's a bust." "Plan B." Silver popped a cigarette out of an abused pack from his jacket pocket, and lit it. "Let's see what happens when we start prying." "I can wait outside in case my presence is what triggers the mind spell." The Chemist felt better, but still hungry. Maybe he should have picked up some high energy carbo bars. "Some magic is specific that way." "We'll need you to exert some kind of influence." Silver led the way from the operations room. "I don't think this will be as easy as checking that clone." "I can give you something to take in the room that should be harmless." The Chemist patted his pockets, then realized he didn't have a pen or pad thanks to his clothes being ruthlessly dealt with by whomever had taken care of him when he arrived back at the Tower after being shot. "I'll need something to write on." Silver handed over a piece torn from his cigarette pack, and a stub of a pencil. The magician wrote two symbols on the paper. He handed both back to the electrical man. "Show him that and that should make him answer any question truthfully." The Chemist adjusted his sunglasses. "Anything more might set off the trap." Silver nodded, pausing at the door to the room where he had met Pointer and the members of the CORPS days ago. He pushed inside, putting on a neutral expression. "How's it going, Stafford?" Silver blocked the door until Maker stepped inside and it closed behind her. "I have some questions for you." "I don't know anything." The Halberdier's hair still stank from the shock he had been given in Los Angeles. His mask sat on the table in front of his chair. Weapons had already been locked in the vault while he had been restrained. Everyone knew he was still dangerous if they let him have an opening. "Even if I did, I have to respect the confidence of my employer. It's in the rule book." "I want you to tell me who you work for and what's the deal with the papers you were trying to steal." Silver held up the paper with the magic symbols on it so Stafford could see them. Silver's cigarette snapped out as pressure filled the room. He looked around. Please not another break in. Anything but that.

Re: The Lucky Charm Gang?! I have been thinking about using Lucky as an NPC. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought of something like that. CES

Re: The New Circle 2 Background Information: The thing that would be known as the Trash came from four men merging into a conglomeration of waste at the local dump. The effect was totally unexpected for them. They had thought they were going to die. Roscoe Ragland owned the dump, charging the city to put its waste and trash where it could be incinerated. He made a buck on the side for illegal toxic waste dumping. He planned to move out as soon as he had enough money. He just never had enough. Pete Worley ran the incinerator. He knew something was going on, but not what. He tipped off the government in hopes of a reward. Moonie Winchell and Mario Canplotti helped with the shoveling, stacking, fixing to resell, parts sale for those walking the dump desperately. They also knew something was up, but didn't try to pry into it. News of an investigation reached Roscoe's silent partners. They were not happy with that development. They talked with the four men. The result was leaving them dead in a chemical spill that ate flesh like acid. It was a story told in most major cities. What's not often told is that the four men's DNA combined with the chemicals and the surrounding trash to become a gestalt of all of it. The resulting example of blind luck shambled from the dump, looking for revenge. The Trash established his credentials as an urban monster very quickly. Becoming a vigilante came a little slower. At this point, he is a secret member of the Rovers much like Dr. Dream. Occasionally he does hit the road and wander far from his home stomping grounds, prompting a reward for capture and pictures. Quote: "Miller Lite...breakfast of...squirrels." Personality: The Trash has bits of personality and skills from all of his parts. Sometimes he likes shiny things, sometimes he raids a bar for a beer and pretzels. Every now and then he visits the strip clubs. Mostly he looks out for people in his territory, and along his random travel path. Mostly he is sneaky, and hides in the trash during the day, and wanders at night. He is known for his sneak attacks, and practical jokes among the criminals that have encountered him more than once. Appearance: The Trash is a humanoid mound of trash and debris that barely has what can be considered human features. His body colors change at random with the different trash he moves in and picks up. Powers: The Trash is naturally hard to hurt, strong, stealthy. He has also shone an ability to move between and through trash piles. Occasionally he demonstrates some skills that a trash monster should not have. Fire seems to be his only weakness. A man with a flame thrower can drive the heaping thing away quickly, at least until he can find something he can use to extract his messy revenge.

Re: cleopatra question I believe that is the name of a female pimp in Hudson City. She runs part of the sex trade, some clubs, and a movie making company, I believe. CES

Re: What Fantasy/Sci-Fi book have you just finished? Please rate it... Harbingers is the latest book in the RJ series, but I haven't seen it to read it yet. CES

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease That's fair enough, Hugh. In my case, if someone took stuff one of my characters was working on and everyone know was potentially a loaded gun, and just posted it to be used by anyone, my character would seriously consider exacting a pound of flesh. And no I don't play heroic characters as a rule. CES

Re: The Magistracy's Baby 11 The Chemist sat up in bed. The bullet wounds were closed. Some pain killer let him focus enough to work some spell work. The first thing was to get back on his feet. The temptation to do something to Stafford when they met again was strong. He kept thinking of toads for some reason. The Chemist climbed out of bed, pulling the sensors and IV loose, worked some writing on his wounds as he got to his feet. He could do a lot of things if he had the focus and will. The very least was relieving his pain enough to work on his wounds while he looked for his clothes and sunglasses. The magic worked on him as he searched the spare contents of the sick bay. He was not happy that his clothes had apparently been thrown away. He had worn those coveralls since the forties. A lot of minor spells went into them to keep them clean and usable over the years. Nothing to be done about that. The Chemist wrote on his hospital gown. The letters changed the thin fabric into the plain mechanic's uniform he preferred and boots. He ripped off a piece of tape and made sunglasses to match the ones he couldn't find. He took a moment to gauge his physical condition. His magic had repaired the damage done to him, was building up his strength. He needed some real food for fuel. Then he was back in business. He would remember the pain, and ache sometimes when he least expected it. Even magic wouldn't fix that. It was coded in his brain, whether it was real pain, or not. Still he was alive, and he was in a position to make someone pay. He wasn't going to waste that. The Chemist headed for the cafeteria. He nodded to the staff walking the halls when they froze in place. He hid the smile. Everyone must have thought he was on death's door. He got in line for Salisbury steak, mac and cheese, and a couple of other things that weren't on his diet. He needed the fuel, before he passed out. The Chemist enjoyed the mass produced lunch, only looking up when he got more. He spotted Reilly and headed for the back of the lunch room with a full tray before the operations officer could see him. He wanted to fill up before there was more trouble, and Reilly looked like trouble just stepping into the room. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Reilly settled at the Chemist's table, pint of milk in hand. "Maker will want to check you out." "Trying to eat, Kev." The Chemist gobbled up the servings on the plastic plate with the click-click of metal on dish. "I'll talk to her when I'm done." "The rest of the guys were out chasing leads." Reilly took a long pull from his carton. "They're coming back in a little bit. Silver and Pointer were arguing jurisdiction last I heard." "They would be," said the Chemist. "Let me eat, then I'll check in with Maker. I'm pretty sure she has some idea how to deal with things." "I don't think so," said Reilly. "At least you've made a miraculous recovery." "A little eye of the toad." The Chemist pushed back from his empty plate, sighing slightly. "Remind me to eat on the main land from now on." "Why do you think I only got milk?" Reilly hoisted the nearly empty carton. "Let's see what we can do for our lovely machinist." The Chemist got to his feet, feeling his large meal disappearing as he moved. He led the way out of the room after grabbing a few pieces of cake to take with him. The two men made their way to the operations deck. Support staff eyed them quietly as they entered the large room. Screens and keyboards worked furiously but almost silently. Maker didn't like squeaky components in her machinery. The woman in question was plugged into her own link to the computer system used by the tower. Her eyes had the abstract look of thought and absence. Almost like she was working a spell instead of sifting information.

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease They took a vote and everyone agreed to not release it from my impression above and one guy took whatever had been done which wasnt tested and sent it out. That's what was posted. If somebody did that in a game you were playing or running, you wouldn't say anything? CES

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease On the other hand, Real vector has a point. How much justification do you need for something that you're paying points for? Wealth isn't the problem in this case. What the problem is no one took an axe to Shadowlord's noggin. CES

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease While Hugh is an eloquent and clear spoken debater, I have to disagree with what he says completely. I have had immature players with reliable Time Travel and Dimensional/space travel. At no point did any of them say, "Let's post this on the internet so our archenemies can use it. It should be free for all." They said, "We have to put this under guard and protect it at all costs." It didn't quite work out like they wanted, but they kept it to only one villain copping the tech for his own use. This is a similar situation, except one guy said, "Screw all of you, I'm doing what I want. I don't care if it's safe, can be used against me, or kill my allies. Everyone has to have it." Legally I don't think he can be touched, but I would expect some of these countries that were conquered when their tech failed and killed their troops would have something to say to him. CES

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease Sloppy is a good word. The hero released not only the everything on how to build this technology and how to shut it off knowing his archenemy was at least as capable as he was at using this information. I assume he knew since it looks like they were hunting each other. How many heroes give their enemy the weapon to conquer the world? CES

Re: Richest Man in the World Disease This guy needs to be put down. I'm surprised some vigilante hasn't done it yet. CES