This thread is for the Adventures of Paperweight, the Heavy Hitter!

You gesture before you with thin fingers as you force ribbons of anti-gravity out from your body and around the lip at the bottom of the window pane. Concentrating, you attempt to gently slid your apartment window open. Unfortunately, you over shoot it. With a loud "CRACK" the pane slams into the top of the groove, sending a cascade of hair thin cracks through the dry wall. Miraculously, the glass itself seems to be undamaged.

Small favors, you guess.

Either way, you're off work, your pads are laced up, and the window is now open.

It is time for Paperweight's patrol to begin.

I take off from the window and begin looking for problems to fix.

You feel the fundamental forces of the universe shift as Anti-Gravity rockets you up into the sky above your apartment. Your initial elation is cut short, as your new vantage point allows you to see the Hooverville a few streets over from your apartment. The radio says the Depression is easing, but it doesn't look like it is on your street.

Two purse snatchers and a burglary later, your evening is starting to look like a easy one. Suddenly, you hear a loud eruption from the financial district. Over the tops of the buildings you can see a plume of smoke, followed by the bone chilling rattle of Thompson Machine Guns.

I quickly look for rubble or large collection of rocks. I place my hand on the ground and force them into a sphere my size then fly towards the gunfire.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Sat 19 Jan 2019.

(You are essentially using your super strength power to lift these.)

Boulder cluster in hand, you launch yourself towards the sound of the commotion.

You see a well built man in a garish bright orange costume walking down the stairs of a bank with a large sack of money in hand. His chest is emblazoned with a cartoonish explosion. Around him are four men in similar outfits holding tommy guns that are rattling shots off towards the fleeing crowd.

(Give me a perception check, when your character sheet gets finished.)

Paperweight rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  Notice Check.

At first this situation seems like a massacre. You know there's no way to get to all the civilians in time. But then you notice something's...

1. The Mobster thugs are firing the rig Tommy Guns directly into the crowd, but NOTHING is hitting. No people are getting shot, and you see no signs of the bullets connecting with anything around them like the buildings or the side walk.

2. The orange clad leader seems to have the power to point at things and make them explode. But, everything he points at seems to have a brief delay before it actually ignites. And there's a cloud hanging in the air from his explosions that smells like...fire works.

"Oh no boys! It's Paperweight! Chicago's hero! The most powerful costumed hero on Earth! We're in for it now!"

Very skeptically I jump between the crowd and the gunfire.

You land with an earth rattling thud, arms spread wide just in case. But it is just as you suspected. There is a muzzle flash from each gun, but no billets are actually being fired.

The Captain shoulders his way to the front of the gang.

"Those pop guns won't do anything against a do-gooder this powerful! Step aside boys! I'll handle him!"

01:35, Today: Captain Kaboom rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  To blast Paperweight. You have been hit.

No toughness save is needed though, as what hits you is little more than a large sparkler. It's lights up in a crackling flash, but in no way could have damaged any one at all.

"It's no good, boys! He's INVINCIBLE!"

I tilt my head in confusion. Then fly over, grab Captain Kaboom, and hover a few feet off the ground. "Whats really going on here?"

The Captain grabs you in the best approximation of a wrestling hold he can do on someone as strong as you are. As he does so, he whispers to you.

"Alright, now gimme a tap on the chin. Don't put any heat on it; I'll sell it. I don't need ya to take my head off or nuthin. Just needs to look good. And could you smile a little? Yer s'posed to be the hero guy!"

I toss him down dismissively."You cannot be serious, do you know who may have actually needed my help while I was wasting time with you!?"

The Captain looks incredibly confused. He meekly raises his hands in surrender. Seeing their leader give up, his thugs all drop their empty tommy guns and give up as well.

One of the ones closest to you seems like he is unsure of what to do, and an older goon next to him grabs him by his suspended and pulls him down. As he does, you hear him say, "What are you fussin' for? Maestro's payin' us either way!"

"Wait, what did you say? What does he have to do with any of this?.." I begin approaching the one who mentioned the name.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:38, Sun 10 Mar 2019.

Captain Kaboom steps between you and the thugs.

"No one has anything to do with this but me. I'm a mastermind. Planned the whole thing."

He slows you only for a second, but it's enough time that the police are already hand cuffing him and his goons and starting to lead them away.

"Hold on, I still have questions for these thugs" I get between the police and the cars

The Chicago PD didn't really get a feel for your powers, so they mostly have your looks to go off of. Meaning they're a little underwhelmed.

One of the lead officers tries to shove you out of the way, to which you of course do not budge. He stands stunned for a moment.

The next officer behind him shoulders his way to the front.

"Hey! Stringbean! Get outta the way! Ain't you got a little league game to call strikes for or something'?"

"I am actually a superhero and I have reason to believe these men are involved with an extremely dangerous man" I lift the back end of one the cars to validate my credentials

An audible gasp goes through the officers. Those that's weapons were bolstered draw them, and the ones already armed turn their shotguns towards you.

"T-Take your hand offa that car and get outta our way or I'm takin' you in for obstruction o' justice. Don't make me have to tell ya again."

I gently put the car down. "Listen officer I just need to ask one of those thugs a couple of questions. Also please don't shoot; the ricochet could be dangerous for you guys"

The tension dissipates a bit, but you notice the shotgun cops linger around you as the others move their prisoners towards their squad cars.

"Listen, Mickey Rooney, you wanna talk to these mooks, either get yourself a badge, or takenit up with their lawyers, but I'm workin' here."

And with that they move around you with the prisoners.

"If they were talking about the person I think they were, then this city is facing trouble. But sure let the guy who can lift a car not help." I slowly begin to take off

As you fly off you hear them muttering amongst themselves.

"Geezus. Anaheim gets a smokin' blond with nine mile legs. How'd we end up with Peter Pan dressed as an Umpire?"

They load up Kaboom and his cronies and fly away. Leaving you hovering above the city.

What do you do?

What are the jail cells like in this city? Do they have barred windows for example?

Chicago is a big city with a big crime problem and more than a couple jail houses. You've been in a couple that had windows, but you've also been in a couple that were little better than basements with iron doors. The trick is going to be which one they take them to, a detail you currently don't know.

One that you do know though, is which penthouse Cicero Sivero lives in. You've been there many times, and seen many horrible things there you can only hope to one day lose to senility.

With the limited knowledge I have I am going to scout out Sivero's penthouse.

You swoop up on Sivero's penthouse in a few minutes. The top floor looks like a garden with a little court yard and several bronze statues of musicians playing classical instruments. In the back of the garden are two large glass double doors that lead into the actual apartment itself. They are standing wide open, curtains wafting in the breeze.

With an almost reckless curiosity I land and go through the open doors.

You move into the familiar office. There are more expansive looking statues of musicians in here, but these are limestone rather than bronze, as they don't have to worry about the Out door weather. There are four leather couches facing each other in the center of the room, each loaded with two or three triggermen a piece. All of whom are looking you over, but none of whom move.

In the back center of the room is a large ornate wooden desk that you have cleaned many times. Sitting at it is Civero Sivero himself. A thin man, and shorter than you'd think he is, but with tired piercing eyes that remind you more of a predator than a person. His black and grey speckled hair is slicked back against his head and he's smoking a cigarette with a long filter. His maroon suit and Italian leather shoes might seem effeminate on another man, but Sivero's cold malevolence ememinates any hint of that criticism from your mind.

Sivero is flanked by two men sitting on high bar stools. The one on his right is a boy you recognize. His name was Paulo Marittzi. He was a runner for Sivero back when you were his assistant, just as you had once been. He sits clutching a ledger book to his chest as if it was an infant.

On Sivero's right though is a man you don't recognize. He's a big fella, easily 6'5 and probably 300 pounds of solid steak eating muscle. Though his eyes are covered by a thin domino mask and his hair by a green newsboy cap, there's a certain boyish mischievousness about his face that unsettled you. He's one of those people that looks like he's smiling even when he isn't, like he's knows a great mean joke about you that was said just before you came in the room. From the neck down he's wearing a green and white striped sweater and a pair of plum covered overalls. On the pocket of the overalls is a patch that looks like the letter S with arrows going out from it in every direction. He's tall enough that as he sits on the stool one foot is resting flat on the floor, and his arms are crossed across his enormous chest. You also note that he's the only man in the room not wearing a gun.

Sivero greets you with a look that could chill shrimp, and a twitch in the left of his cheek that was the closest he ever came to a smile. He takes a long drag off his cigarette and speaks. His voice is low with just a hint of a civilian accent, and an edge that confuses the polite way he speaks. You always got the impression he spoke quietly intentionally, as if daring someone to ask him to repeat himself. Of course, no one ever would.

"Harold. It's been minute. I've missed you. I wondered when my prodigal son was gonna make the trip home."

"Well with whatever stunt you had in mind tonight I'm sure you were expecting me pretty soon" I slowly walk forward while keeping some distance from any of them.

"My stunt went exactly how it was intended to, despite what my men tell me was a poor performance on your part."

He sits back in his chair and crosses his legs, while knocking the ash off the end of his cigarette into the floor. Paulo climbs down off his stool and sweeps into a little dust pan with a small wooden brush.

"There's super folk crawlin' outta the woodwork, Harold. The say there's a seven foot knight that shoots lightnin' livin' in Hawaii now. And we've all seen the glowin' space man the Feds are sendin' after normal, red blooded Americans. The days of masked fellas like Green Gunman and Vinnie Valkyrie are behind us. Sooner or later, Chicago is gonna get one. And it might not be a person with a bump like you. It might be another space man, with who knows what kinda agenda he's workin' on. You don't wanna work for me? You wanna flit around doin' good like Robin Hood? That's fine. But I'm gonna make sure America's FAVORITE super guy, is the one that I know. All you gotta do is wait for me to toss you up pop flies like that Kaboom schmuck, and smile for the papers when you knock 'me out."

"I know you too well to believe you're some sort of altruist now. This is just some ploy to have me under your thumb again and that isn't going to happen." I turn and begin to leave

He knocks the spent cigarette out of his filter. He draws a brass cigarette case from his desk and opens it up.

"That's the thing about you, Harold. You're clever, but you ain't never been smart. You think thafter all I have you, after everything you've seen, that you get to decide the terms of our relationship?"

He takes the ledger out of Paulo's hands and tosses it across the room so it lands at the back of your heels.

"You ain't never been out from under my thumb Harold. I just ain't been pressin' down."

I reluctantly start taking a look at the ledger. What am I seeing?

The front of the ledger book has "Harold Lionel Hendricks" written on it in fountain pen.

Inside is an almost impossibly detailed list of every crime you either witnessed or commited while in the employ of Sivero, ranging from misdemeanors to felonies. Each is listed next a date and time, then a list of every one else who was there with you, and then a list of items of proof that connect you to the crime that Sivero has in his possession, each listed with a short serial number you assume connects to some filing system in a warehouse some where.

The one that catches your eye, the night you've tried so long to forget, is the night of your full initiation. The night Antoni Gunzaga died. And it says...he has the gun...

I don't speak for about a minute and take a deep breath. "I'm not gonna lie to you Maestro; this is difficult to look at. But I'm not going to double down and become your pawn again. I'd rather turn myself in to the authorities and face the consequences for what I've done. OR cut a deal with them. I would sooner fight along side that alien fella you seem so upset up over then work with you. Those days are behind me."

"I sure am sorry to hear that, Harold. Swell?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Harold says he don't wanna be our friend no more. Show him out."

"Yeah, boss."

The big Ox lumbers down off his stool and starts charging your way.

20:23, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 5 using 1d20.  For initiative.

Roll initiative.

21:28, Today: Paperweight rolled 15 using 1d20.  Initiative.

I'm going to shove Mr.Swell with both arms (effectively an attack roll)

Paperweight rolled 27 using 1d20+11
Edit: it's really a 22
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

(Swell spends a Hero Point. You get one Hero Point)

12:43, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 13 using 1d20+9.  Toughness Save (23 after Hero Point). Bruised.



Swell sails across the room and crashes into the support column in the corner. He looks up at you with a grin. Once you hit him he grows to 8 foot 5 inches. When he hits the pillar, he grows to ten feet tall.

Mr. Swell's turn.

Swell leaps across the room and hits you with an over hand right.

13:00, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Attack on Paperweight. DC 21 Toughness save.

A 21 is not enough to get through your impervious, so you're unharmed, but the blow still knocks you back through the door and out into the roof top garden.

I launch off from the ground and shoulder tackle Swell into the wall.
Paperweight rolled 21 using 1d20+6

You drive him back hard into the wall by the door.

13:49, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 17 using 1d20+10.  Toughness Save. Stunned and Staggered.

Swell is now 18 feet tall.

He recovers from being stunned, your move.

"He's getting awfully big.. Well let's try this out" I put both hands on the ground and attempt to shatter the floor beneath and wall behind Swell.(effectively a groundstrike)

Paperweight rolled 20 using 1d20+11.

14:23, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 19 using 1d20+10.  Strength Check vs Groundstrike.

Cracks reverberate out through the cement. You and Swell fall through to the top floor beneath you. Swell falls prone on the ground, and does not grow.

On Swell's turn, he stands back up, but that is his full action, as he is staggered.

Your move.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:34, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

Rather than fall I hover from the floor above and fly straight into Swell with a strong right. (All-out Attack)

Paperweight rolled 15 using 1d20+11

Miss.

Swell kirks his head to the left and catches you by the head with his right hand. He then smashes the back of your head through the wall and out into free fall in the street.

14:53, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  Attack. DC 25 Toughness Save.

Hero point used.

Paperweight rolled 23 using 1d20+11
Actually:26
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

I catch myself then take off and launch into Swell
(All-out Attack)

Paperweight rolled 29 using 1d20+11

15:26, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 23 using 1d20+11.  Toughness Save. Two Bruises, and Staggered.

Swell grows to 25 feet tall. He bursts through the roof above him. His feet tear through the floor below you. He grins at you.

Mr. Swell uses does a Charge.


15:34, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 14 using 1d20+8.  The Attack hits due to your All-Out attack. Charge. DC 27 Toughness Save.

You are now both falling towards the street again. There are pedestrians and cars below, and Swell is 25 feet tall and weighs 9 tons.

Paperweight rolled 26 using 1d20+14

Fail by one. You take a Bruise. -1 to Defense and Toughness checks (nothing else though).

Your move.

I grab Swell by the back of his waist and aim towards the penthouse. (Grapple check)

(Roll to hit, then if you hit, give me a roll adding your strength bonus, your attack bonus, and your ranks of super strength.)

Paperweight rolled 9. Nat 1

You rocket towards your target, but at the last second Swell bats you into a window across the street with a massive backhand.

When you make it back to the window, he has landed in crouch.

Mr. Swell is now 30 feet tall.

I launch towards him attempting to tackle him into and possibly through whatever I can (power attack)

Paperweight rolled 4. Nat 1

Swell spikes you into the ground and you land on one foot and one knee.

You look up as a shadow falls over you, and Mr. Swell's enormous right fist comes crashing down on you.

14:42, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Giant Punch DC 27.

Paperweight rolled 27

I launch upwards with an uppercut (power attack)

Paperweight rolled 18 (power attack)

Hit. DC 31 Toughness Save.

11:02, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 20 using 1d20+13.  Toughness Save.

Failed by 11. Stunned and Staggered.

Swell goes down hard, but he's not out completely.

He is also now 42 feet tall.

Your move.

I hover above his head and bring both fist down (power attack)

Paperweight rolled 10

Mr. Swell rolls away from your punch. Bracing himself on a store front and rising to a knee, he fires a punch at you trying to regain some momentum.

11:59, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 21 using 1d20+6.  Giant Punch DC 29 Toughness Save.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:06, Fri 19 Apr 2019.

Paperweight rolled 29

I shift to the side and raise both fist back up into his chin (power attack)

Paperweight rolled 9

Swell leans back away from your punch and throws a haymaker at you.

13:46, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Power Attack

I mimic the move, lean back, and throw a haymaker myself (power attack)

Paperweight rolled 7

Swell misdirects your attack with a titanic shove that plants you in the side of a building, though you sustain no damage.

Blood trickling from his nose from your last blow, Swell's boyish grin fades into a twisted scowl. He digs his enormous fingers into the pave meant deep below the street and lifts a two story laundromat above his head to throw at you. But that is all he can do due to being staggered.

You see a few customers through the windows of the building, and hear the screams of several more.

I attempt to shatter the ground beneath his feet and catch the laundromat (groundstrike followed by a movement)

Paperweight rolled 29

(Ok, so the first thing that needs to be settled is the trip Attack from the ground Strike. The D.C. to not be tripped is 29 because of your strength roll. Swell will make a Strength check against tripping in return, with an additional +4 per rank he is over medium sized. Medium sized is 4-8 feet tall. Swell is currently 42 feet tall which makes him Gargantuan sized, three tanks up from medium. This gives him a +12 from his size alone. He'll then receive an additional bonus of a +14 from his strength, bringing him to a total of a +26 on this roll. Which will lead us to,
14:45, Today: Mr. Swell rolled 40 using 1d20+26.  Trip Check Against Groundstrike.
So he doesn't fall. But, does he drop the building? I will answer that question with a Dexterity Check against the rank of your Groundstrike, which was 29, as as far as I can tell dexterity is what solves most rolls not to drop something, not raw strength. And because if he does clamp down with his strength he will likely crush the laundromat over his own head, which would only hurt him anyway. At his current size, accounting for his decision bonus, this roll will become a -2.
14:52, Today: Mr. Swell rolled -1 using 1d20-2.  To Not Drop a Laundromat.
So, as you can see he super fucking drops it. Which brings us to you catching it. Ordinarily catching something would be a dex roll, but as this is a fucking laundromat and you can fly over 100mph, getting under it doesn't seem like the issue here. So this is going to be a strength roll. But, how difficult will it be? I googled how much a laundromat weighs and Google laughed me. Then, I googled the weight of a house. The ballpark figure seems to be 70 tons, not counting the foundation. I'm going to use this figure for the laundromat, and to account for the weight of the foundation (which Swell specifically lifted the building by) and the weight of the large steam laundering machine, in going to multiply it by four, bringing the weight of this Laundromat to approximately 210 tons. Which is 40 tons lighter than Paperweight's light load carrying capacity. So, give me a D.C. 10 Strength Check to catch the fucking laundromat. The higher you roll, the less damage the building and the people inside will sustain from the catch.)

Paperweight rolled 30

(Out of combat)

You catch the building as gracefully as could be, deftly manipulating your anti-gravity field to support every molecule of the structure without crushing it in on its occupants.

Having said that, your required need to touch what you lift means you can see nothing around you but cement foundation. From the direction of Mr. Swell you hear a crackling like a lightning rod and feel a wave of warm air hit you like you're suddenly standing too close to a Christmas tree. But otherwise, he makes no move to Strike you.

You do hear many, many police sirens gathering around you.

I go and attempt to put the laundromat back where it was as gently as I can. Then I fly to a rooftop and see if I can see Swell.

You set the building back down in its plot and dig yourself out from it. By the time you get back to street level, you see that the customers of the laundromat have already fled and there is a veritable swarm of police officers moving towards you brandishing pistols and shotguns.

"Halt, in the name of the law!" barks the most decorated of the officers. But you ignore him, swooping up over the city streets.

Try as you might though, you cannot find any trace of Swell. Though you do, from up here, see the how large the trail of destruction from your battle has been.

There are screams and sirens still echoing off the buildings as fire trucks pull in. Faintly, you can hear the officers still trying to get your attention.

You completed your first Story Arc! "With Friends Like These". Receive 2 Power Points, and proceed to your second story, "The Search For Cosmic Ray".

It's been one month since the attack on Pearl Harbor, and for you that month has been a whirl wind. A photo taken of you hitting the creature known as Kumame with the remains of the USS Nevada was used on the cover of time magazine, and the press on you has shifted from "the screw up who let a slug fest trash Chicago" to being the only super hero that responded to the attack getting any personal recognition.

Though your injuries were more minor than most, it still took you about a week to heal from the injuries you sustained in the fight. During that time the US declared war on Japan and the two sides of the Great War have organized a cease fire to negotiate the terms of superhuman involvement in combat. Eager to show what you have to offer, you have waited patiently for the call telling you that you were being put into active duty. Instead, you got a cryptic call asking you to come to the DARE wing at Fort Clark but wouldn't tell you why.

That mystery led you to the waiting room you've been in for the last 30 minutes. The silence is broken by a middle aged woman in a gray dress coming into the room with a pen and clip board.

"Mister...uhhhhh...Paperweight? Is that right?" She crows.