BRANDON OAKS, RETIREMENT HOME, ROANOKE VIRGINIA-January 01, 2012:
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:40, Sun 08 Jan 2012.

 She lead the little miniature horse along the hallway toward a group of elderly women sitting at a table chatting and playing cards. They all stopped and started petting the pretty little dappled mare as the little horse nibbled fingers and sniffed hands and faces. The little mare was very gentle and the elderly folks loved her and the little tricks she could do, like counting to 10 and dancing and bowing.
 When they had all had their fill of the little horse, she smiled and said goodbye before heading off down the hallway toward the lounge area where more elderly people waited. Minx the manx cat came running down the hallway to jump up on Confetti Lady's back and demand pets. The mare just snorted and kept walking. She was used to her best friend's antics by now.
 "Hello Minx. Been visiting the fellows in the hall?"

"I'm here to see Thomas Gage, please," Malcolm said to the woman at the reception desk. He smiled at her. She tried not to smile back, tried to stay professionally aloof. It didn't work. She smiled at him, a little embarrassed, a little coy.

It wasn't the man's real name, Thomas Gage. His real name was Giovanni Caprese, and he was a federal informant who went into witness protection in the late 80s. The man was responsible for putting away scores of low and mid-level mobsters, and one capo. Malcolm had seen the file; this guy took the steam out of a lot of organized crime in his day, set 'em back a long ways.

Now, Thomas Gage had a problem. He was getting old. He was getting a little senile, and he started talking about his past. The people at Brandon Oaks chalked his rants up to dementia, but the Mob was always listening, always waiting, always patient... always ready to take revenge.

Others may have seen what he was doing as a demotion, a set back in his career because of the failure and inexplicable report from Malcolm's last assignment, a high-profile attempt to grab one of the Bureau's most wanted. Malcolm didn't see it that way though, and neither did his superiors. This was the Mob.

The young agent had been sent from DC to assess the situation and give a recommendation. As he looked around with his keen, focused eye, he didn't notice anything necessarily amiss.

But since his last assignment, he was never truly confident.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:22, Mon 09 Jan 2012.

 She lead the mare and her companion cat Minx along to the lounge where a group of elderly men were sitting, some here and there alone, some in groups or pairs. She looked over at one of her favorites, an old gent everyone called "The Count" or Thomas. She smiled and walked over to his chair and asked if he wanted to pet the horse today. He looked at her and started waving his hands and speaking in a fast clipped agitated voice. Then his eyes cleared and he mumbled apologetically for becoming upset. She just smiled and let him pet the horse. It saddened her to see the old man going downhill, but she wanted to make his time left as enjoyable as possible.
 She knelt down and asked him if he'd ever had or ridden horses in his youth. Many an Italian counts surely had had horses, if it was true about him once being some minor royalty. Even if it weren't true, though, maybe he had ridden horses at the park.
"Hello Mr. Thomas. How are you feeling today? Do you like the horse? Her name is Lady. Did you ever ride horses?"

Malcolm found Thomas Gage right where the receptionist said he'd be, in the lounge. There were a score of elderly people doing various things in the big, open room... playing cards, doing art, watching TV.

And apparently, Sunday was petting-zoo day because right next to Thomas was the smallest horse Malcolm had ever seen. It was seriously a midget horse. This must be the freakshow version of a petting zoo because along with the midget horse there was an abused cat... someone had cut its tail off. That made Malcolm a little sad. He didn't like it when people hurt animals. No, not a good petting zoo at all, no billy goats, no ducks to feed bread to... Still, a broken petting zoo was probably more entertainment than the folks at Brandon Oaks usually got.

The young woman, young judged by the current crowd, holding the midget horse's leash-thing was talking to Thomas. Malcolm couldn't hear what she was saying as he approached. He checked her out, but more in a threat-assessment way than a male-female way, and then broke into their conversation.

"Hey! Grandpa Tommy," he started, code words for contact. Malcolm then addressed the woman as he glanced from her to her horse and back, "Hi... cute." He smiled at her and then went back to Thomas, "Hey Grandpa Tommy. How ya doin'?"

 She looked up as a young man approached the "Count" and called him "Grandpa". She frowned, because as far as she had ever heard, the man never had any visitors and had no living relatives. She looked at the Count to see if there was any alarm, confusion or recognition upon the old gents face. She was always on the lookout for scam artists with these elderly folks. It was so easy to confuse them and to take advantage of them. She frowned again at the confusion upon the old mans face as he looked over at the stranger.
 "Excuse me Sir. I wasn't aware Mr. Thomas had any living relatives. The only one I've ever heard him speak of even in the vaguest manner was some godfather he once knew as a kid. He rarely even mentions him either. I'm afraid his memory isn't what it used to be."
 She carefully backed Lady up so her small rubber-bootied hooves didn't step on the strangers toes. Minx crouched upon the small mare's back and gave the young man a piercing glance then looked at Moon with glance that seemed to be speaking.
 She frowned even more fiercely then and stared almost rudely at the young man. That Minx was cautious about the man spoke loads, because Minx liked nearly everyone.
 "Excuse me again, but do you have some form of ID? How are you related to Mr. Thomas? I mean, anyone can walk in off the street and claim some relationship and not be a relative or a friend. I'm afraid if you think Mr. Thomas has any money, you're mistaken. Just so you know."
 She was protective and fond of the elderly people here. Even the cantankerous ones. Those needed love even more than the sweet-natured ones, no matter how gruff or abrasive they tried to act.
 Minx jumped from the horses back to land in the Count's lap, where he turned around twice then curled up into a tight ball, kneading his leg with soft paws, purring loudly to reassure the elderly man.

With her careful and defensive inspection of the man claiming to be Mr. Thomas' grandson, she noticed that he seemed quite charming, was dressed rather well, and that he had a gun of some kind slung under his left armpit, concealed by the sport coat he wore.

"Oh, sorry," Malcolm said apologetically, taking notice of the witness who might just ruin everything... smart, insightful... it couldn't get much worse.

Time to sell it.

"I'm Thomas MacTaggert," he said throwing out the code name, telling Caprese that everything was under control, part of a test of the older man's mental faculties. He ran down the dossier list from the file, "Mr. Gage has three children, my uncle Marco, my other uncle Peter, and my mother, Celia. Mommy Mary, his wife, passed away, like twenty years ago or so. I was a kid. Anyway, all his kids are alive and he's got something like a dozen grand kids."

"Uncle Peter lives in California and Marco moved home to Genoa, Italy to take over the family winery or something like that when Grandpa Tommy's brother died. My mom and dad live in Seattle."

"The way my mom told it to me when I got old enough to hear it, Grandpa got really depressed when Mommy Mary died, and became really antisocial. He was already upset with my mom for marrying a Scot. Anyway, he removed himself from everything having to do with us."

"I work in Northern Virginia, and mom asked me to come check on him because she thinks she's psychic and she got worried about him. So I'm here on this glorious Sunday to make sure Grandpa Tommy still hates us all."

Turning his attention back to the aging mobster, Malcolm asked, "So how the hell are you doin' Grandpa?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 03:23, Thu 12 Jan 2012.

   Moonchild and Malcolm scrutinize one another, actually looking at each other for the first time.  And slowly both become aware of a strange, but powerful, connection between them.  Looking into each others' faces, they see a reflection of themselves, and the secret that both share.  Both now realize that they are alike in one important respect.  They have seen things, experienced things, that no one else can possibly understand.  They know this with a certainty that defies any and all logic.

   Mr Gage shakes slightly, as he stares at his 'grandson' with watery eyes that seem vacant and unaware.  Then, returning from whatever place his mind had wandered, his eyes light up in recognition and his wrinkled mouth slips downwards, into a scowl.

   "Ehhhh, Tommy!  You come ah to see if you old ah Nonno ees a dead ah yet?  Or maybe you need ah something from me eh?  Ees always ah the same.  No one even ah remembers if I'm ah still alive, unless ah you wanta something!  Why you come Tommy eh?  Whadda you want?"  He pets the docile Minx with one withered hand as he watches Tommy.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:27, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

 She backed away further, nodded to Mr. Thomas then walked over to the nurses desk, Lady following along behind. Minx didn't budge though. She spoke with the nurse at the nurses station for awhile then took her phone out of her pocket to answer it. She spoke for a moment as she turned to look toward Mr. Thomas and Minx. She glanced down at her screen then closed the phone and put it back in her pocket. Meanwhile the nurse moved off to pick up the phone and make a phone call.
 She sighed and took out a comb and started combing out a tangle of mane before leading Lady over to another group of men. She spoke to them softly then had Lady do some of her tricks before letting them pet her and fuss over her.

"Awww, crap..." Malcolm breathed as he noticed the girl for the first time. His mind was racing this was the first one he could see since he could See. And, did he get this assignment because of her, or was this random. And if this were random, how many like him, like her, out there must there be for him to bump into her at random...

And worse, she'd seen it too. She backed away with that look on her face. It was a good look for her, he had to admit, but that was beside the point.

He would have to talk with her; there was so much he didn't understand.

But her distance opened things up when Grandpa Tommy came around.

"I don't need anything, Grandpa. Just checkin' in," Malcolm started. Then got a hushed, serious tone and looked the mobster straight in the eye, "Mom heard that you were runnin' your mouth off, and tryin' ta make trouble. Are you ok?"

But his thoughts stayed with the tall, brown-haired girl. He had to make sure she didn't leave.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:07, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

 She finished with the men, but suggested they go outside to the gazebo shortly because she was going to have her other animals put on a show for them if they would like that.
 "Come on out, Ben and Misty and all the others are out there. They will be serving cake and ice cream too I think, afterwards."
 She lead Lady off down the hallway, the bells on Lady's tail jingling softly with every step. Lady was nearly prancing after all the fuss the men had made over her, she was a pretty mare and knew it! Such extroverted creatures were popular with the old folks and with kids as well.

"Aww, crap..." Malcolm breathed as he watched the brown-haired girl move down the hallway, away from him... He knew he needed to gather more intel, and to do that, he needed proximity to the target.

"Let's go outside Grandpa Tommy. I gotta go courtin' a girl." There was no reason not to use the excuse the old man (and everyone else) would assume no matter what excuse Malcolm came up with. It was the best cover he could think of. He's a guy, guy's are pigs... perfect.

   The orderlies and some of the nurses helped all of the residents who wanted to go outside to see the show.  Most did, as it was one of the more exciting things that had happened in the old home in quite some time.  Soon the lounge was almost empty, the last of the chattering, jabbering, mumbling, and whooping dying away as the front door closed behind them.  A few of the more infirm residents, who had no desire to watch, or who were unable, or unwilling to venture outside, were wheeled back to their rooms with little fanfare.

   As Moonchild leads her talented mare, and her would be audience, out towards the gazebo, she spies the police car, parked at an angle in the parking lot.  Three police officers exit the vehicle and begin to walk in her direction.  They are all dressed for a cold January day, all wearing their standard issue jackets, and leaning forwards into the wind as they walk.  As they come closer, Moonchild can see that one is an older man, with salt and pepper hair sticking out from under his cap, and a matching moustache.  His partners are younger, one man and one woman, perhaps half the older officer's age.
   The police speak briefly with the Director of the Broad Oaks, Eugenia Crawford, then they walk all walk over to Moonchild.

   "Ma'am, my understanding is that you were the one who alerted the nursing assistant...Constance, to the issue with your 'guest' today?"  Asked the older officer, not waiting for the Director to explain. "We would like you to accompany us back inside to identify the man and then we'll take things from that point.  We'd prefer not to endanger Mr Gage, who is apparently still inside with the man claiming to be his Grandson.  We would prefer to do this discreetly, you can understand I'm sure."


--------------------------------------------

   Thomas Gage, once Capo di tutti Capi, rises unsteadily to his feet, gripping the  handles of his walker for dear life.  He looks into Malcolm s eyes, his expression one of helplessness that is almost heart breaking.  Trembling, he stumbles forwards grabbing onto the younger man's shirt, their eyes meeting.  For a fleeting moment, the old man's eyes are sharp and lucid, and wild with desperation:

   "I don't wanna go out ah side!  Whoever you are, I'm ah begging you, HELP ME, please...get this monster out..." he gasps.  Then his eyes roll back behind his eyelids and he collapses in Malcolm's arms.

"Aww crap!" Malcolm said as the old mobster crumpled into his arms. Easing the man to the floor, he called out, "Orderly! something's wrong! Nurse!" It was only then that he noticed the room was empty except for him and the old mobster.

Knowing to the weirdness that had recently come to his life, and especially since he'd run into the girl just moments ago, Malcolm was not unused to taking strange things people said at face value, so he looked at collapsed human with his Sight... there might be a monster in there. He took the time that the two of them were alone to do what he'd just months before learned to do.

"What the hell's going on with you, Thomas Gage..." Malcolm said, calmly in the crisis and perhaps a little cynically as he cast his gaze on the older man.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Fri 13 Jan 2012.

 She looked up as the policemen came up to her and started speaking to her. She was disconcerted at seeing three of them, because they usually traveled in pairs or as single officers.
 When she noticed the strangeness of the one officers gaze, she stumbled a step or two then reached up to rub her forehead. These strange visual effects and the headaches were getting worse. She sighed and rubbed her forehead once more. No more putting it off, she was going to have to see an eye doctor, or maybe a neurologist. She didn't like that idea at all, but she couldn't risk there was something really wrong.
"I'm sorry...what? Oh, he's the gentleman in the lounge sitting on the blue sofa. Has a cat in his lap. Just let me hand my pony over to my helper and I will show you the man with a gun. I hope they have the room cleared out now. I didn't want anyone to get hurt, so I told them I'd put on a show out here. At least it's not too cold today."

   Stepping back inside, in the company of the trio of police, Moonchild finds the place empty.  It appeared that the nursing assistants and the Director had done an admirable job of clearing the place.  In the main lounge, 'Tommy' is kneeling down, bending over the prone form of Thomas Gage.  The older cop looks to his companions and they both nod.  The female officer turns and walks back towards the door and quickly locks it and draws the curtains on the windows.

--------------------------------------

   Looking at the old Mobster, Malcolm is surprised to see an almost lost look upon the once hardened Don's face.  No longer the iron hard, indomitable crime lord he once was, he looks for all the world, like a small child, desperate and afraid, begging for help.  Thomas Gage seems, in that moment, tired and vulnerable, and very much alone.
   Without warning, another image appears to Malcolm, as his searching eyes probe the man's wizened face.  A different face, something strange and disturbingly  inhuman, with an enlarged cranium, cold black eyes, and sharp angular features flashes in Malcolm's head, as if the old man's visage was merely an overstretched mask.
   Then Thomas rises, a rather jerky movement, like a marionette being jerked back to its feet by the Master Puppeteer.  He stands glaring at Malcolm, and the eyes that the startled F.B.I. agent sees are not human now, but the black frigid marbles he saw before.
   "You have always been clever, Malcolm," he says, but the voice of the old man is now echoed by a SECOND voice, a high pitched, arrogant tone that eerily follows the first. "And I have hated you for it!  Now that I know what you, and your female friend Moonchild are, you will finally be more than a thorn in my side...you will be USEFUL!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:12, Sat 14 Jan 2012.

 She took in the situation in a glance, saw the strange things the police were doing, and was sure something was NOT RIGHT! She thought she saw something weird with Mr. Gage too. At that moment, on pure instinct, she raced to the wall and pulled the fire alarm, then dived form cover behind a sofa.

OOC: I know what this thing is, but Malcolm doesn't (seeing as he's only had one real brush with the paranormal) and that was watching a man disappear into thin air when his abilities first showed themselves... and there have been no mentors. So what I'm doing below may be dumb and ignorant, Malcolm is ignorant.

Feelings of bewilderment and a sense of vertigo swept over Malcolm as the thing he'd Seen, the thing that was controlling Caprese somehow, mocked and threatened him. He was not Fox Mulder; he didn't know how to fight this.

The blare of the fire alarm klaxon snapped him back into the moment with clanging clarity. In that instant, Malcolm processed want was going on around him... the local police acting against standard procedure, the girl diving for cover, the threat from the creature he was kneeling next to...

His battle-honed predatory nature took over; there'd be no bluff and bluster here.

He drew his service pistol and his ID badge. "Malcolm Laurence, FBI!" he announced with all the authority he could muster. "Nobody move!"

OOC: If anybody moves, Malcolm will fire... he's outnumbered, and he has no idea what the moral character of this body-snatcher thing is nor what's going on with the cops.

   The thing that looked like Thomas Gage laughed, a dry croaking laugh edged with a cold and malicious glee.  It was not a pleasant sound.

   "You truly imagine your primitive weapon will frighten me, Malcolm Laurence?" he asked, clearly amused by Malcolm's attempt to intimidate them.  He glanced towards the sofa where Moonchild was hiding.  Apparently something seemed to dampen his pleasure, his mouth closing quickly, think lips twisting in a dark scowl.
  "Enough of this.  The human authorities will be here soon, now they've been alerted.  Capture them both and quickly.  I want them alive, wounded if necessary, but still living!"

OOC: Malcolm Laurence rolled 10 using 1d10+2. Initiative. (it's actually a 13 because I forgot the +3 from the pistol)

Malcolm will try to kneel on Gage to keep the old man immobile, firing carefully and deliberately at one of the fake cops.

OCC: Attack a fake cop (if there's one 10' away or less, that's Point Blank Range for a pistol, if not, I'll fire at whoever's closest). If they come at me, I'll wait until Point Blank before executing a Special Ranged Attack Rule Thing. 1 level of Aiming and 3 levels of Defense for a total of 15 To Hit (or 17 if it's Point Blank) and -3 Armor vs everyone. Damage will be 2d8-3.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:25, Sun 15 Jan 2012.

 Whatever was going on, she did NOT like the sound of it! And what had happened to Mr. Gage? If she believed in that kind of crap, she'd almost swear he was possessed. But she didn't believe in that. Maybe he had multiple personality disorder. He sure didn't sound like the usual befuddled Mr. Gage!

   Responding to Thomas Gage's commands, the cops go into action.  They draw their pistols, odd looking long barreled weapons that do not resemble anything Moonchild or Malcolm have seen.  The Old Cop guards the door while the lady cop covers the man cop who strides forward and pushes aside the couch, looking for Moonchild.  They are slow to respond, however, and both Malcolm and Moonchild may act before them.

OOC: 14:53, Today: LoC rolled 4 using 1d10-1. Cop one, two and three init corrected.
Old cop movement to the door, attack draws weapon.  Lady cop moves, following man cop.  Man cop moving to sofa, pushing it aside, action drawing weapon.

14:57, Today: LoC rolled 10 using 1d10+1. Thomas Gage Init.

The old mobster, however looks up at Malcolm as he tries to pin him down with his knees.  Suddenly Malcolm's head begins to swim as he feels something odd...

OOC: Luck Roll please Malcolm:)
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:59, Mon 16 Jan 2012.

The strange assault on Malcolm's mind destroyed his equilibrium as he took aim at the fake, male cop who was going after the animal-show girl. His three carefully trained shots rang out, but went just wide of the mark. "Aww, crap..."

OOC:
Malcolm Laurence rolled 16 using 1d20. Luck Roll
Failure - His Luck Roll is 7
Malcolm Laurence rolled 18 using 1d20. To Hit
Miss - His To-Hit Roll was a 15 (or a 17 if PB, but a miss nonetheless)
This message was last edited by the player at 23:38, Mon 16 Jan 2012.

 She leaps up and bashes the man over the head with her lamp, hoping to knock him out, but he's awfully tall and she's not able to bring down a lot of force unfortunately. She still tried her best! She hopes it's enough!


16:41, Today:Moon Child rolled 6 using 1d20+1. attack.
21:08, Today: Moon Child rolled 7 using 1d6+1. damage.

This message was last edited by a game editor at 04:15, Tue 17 Jan 2012.

   The man cop staggers backwards, stunned by repeated blows from the heavy lamp.  The Lady cop screams loudly in her two toned voice, weapon out now and pointed towards Moonchild:

   "Stay where you are, human.  Your struggling only delays the inevitable.  You and your other 'potential' companions will serve the MARI'ONEK!

OOC: End of Turn 1

------------------------------------------------

Turn 2

08:31, Today: LoC rolled 6 using 1d10+1. Thomas Gage Init.
08:31, Today: LoC rolled 7 using 1d10+1. Cop one, two and three init.

   Thomas Gage retrieves Malcolm's handcuffs and secures them around the helpless agent, who is still reeling as every sense in his body explodes from the savage  psychic assault.

   The old cop (cop 1) produces an odd metalic cylinder and proceeds to activate it by touching its surface.  It responds instantly to his commands, flashing a myriad of colours in a random pattern.  The result of this is striking, as a jagged diagonal of light appears, then widens like a someone had rent the air asunder.  Within can be seen some completely different place, as if the viewers are looking through a window to someplace off in the distance.

   The badly battered man cop (cop 2) and the lady cop (cop 3) both train their odd looking pistols on Moonchild, ready to shoot.

   OOC: Initiative please if taking any action Moonchild.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:46, Tue 17 Jan 2012.

 She throws her lamp at the battered man and grabbed a sofa cushion off the sofa and throws it at the woman, then tries to run for help!

14:20, Today: Moon Child rolled 10 using 1d10+2. init.

14:26, Today: Moon Child rolled 9 using 1d20+1. attack. woman
14:26, Today: Moon Child rolled 2 using 1d20+1. attack. man
run roll?

   OOC: You made me laugh Moonchild...hehee.  You only have one attack, but lets assume you used the more effective one...which isn't the sofa cushion :P  Roll me damage for the lamp because, even taking a penalty for throwing something not designed to be thrown, a 2 still hits:)

I'll come and update tonight:)

OOC:
And if I may jump in here with a rules thing...

She's not supposed to be adding a 1 to her attack either. The one gets added to her Physical Score, not the roll itself.

And that makes her attack roll a 1, which either disarms her opponent or does double damage!
This message was last edited by the player at 18:29, Wed 18 Jan 2012.

11:44, Today: Moon Child rolled 2 using 1d6. damage.

OOC:  You are correct, Malcolm yes, good catch.  Unfortunately I have not done as good as job as I might have in teaching this system.  We do have a few unfamiliar with it, but I have assured them it is easy to learn, and it is really, that's part of the beauty of it for me.  I don't use all the complications for combat either, which helps keep it that way.

So lets say double damage, 4 pts, which is enough to incapacitate the male cop and as he hits the floor he drops his weapon.

   The Lady Cop shoots point blank at Moon Child, releasing a shower of micro balls that burst into streams of black goo, attempting to envelop Moonchild.

OOC: Luck Roll please Moonchild:)

   Meanwhile Malcolm is lead into the glowing aperture...
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:11, Thu 19 Jan 2012.

21:15, Today: Moon Child rolled 1 using 1d20. luck.

   The male cop falls to the floor with a loud thud.  The Lady cop shoots her bizarre weapon at Moonchild, but the young lady manages to avoid the barrage of silver spheres that attempt to entrap her within their ebon tendrils.  Having narrowly escaped, Moonchild prepares to run.

   Now the Old Cop leaves the door, raising his weapon and joining the female cop to capture Moonchild, before she makes good an escape.

OOC: New Initiative Moonchild

Malcolm, you may now post in The Big Scary, Spooky, Secret, Hideout

link to a message in this game
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:25, Fri 20 Jan 2012.

**ooc*** doesn't know how to roll run or would have done so earlier.

   OOC: No roll is necessary to run, Moon Child, just roll init so I know if you manage to start running before they can attack or chase you :P

 She tried to run as the weird lady cop tried to shoot her with some strange gooey black stuff. As she turned to run, she glimpsed the stranger with Mr. Thomas being dragged...through some kind of vortex in the middle of the room! OMG! What the hell was going on? Was she finally going crazy? Was she seeing things? Maybe nothing was real and she just thought she was seeing what she was seeing!

14:46, Today: Moon Child rolled 3 using 1d10+2. init.

Simon looks at sign.
He is here for reason but what that reason is is unclear.
Somehow he hoped someone would meet him.  Someone call him by name.
He looks around.
Trying work out if just moved in space or time.
Best be careful.  Say little.  Do little untill he know better.
At least they spoke english.  That make life easier.

So Simon stand and tried take in as much as can.  Looking for clue why he here.

   As Simon watches, several of the more mobile of the nursing home residents make their way, hobbling on crutches, shuffling with walkers, or meandering with canes over to the big window by the entrance.  Peering in they begin to shout to one another their old feeble voices making a surprising amount of noise.

   "Carol? Those cops are trying to arrest our dear Moonchild!"
  "Yep, s'what I've been a saying fer years now; ya can't trust no copper!"
   "Oh Harold pipe down, you old reprobate, this is SERIOUS.  someone get the Director, she needs our help!"
    "You're RIGHT Ethel!  Well, I sure ain't a gonna stand here and see our sweet girl hauled away, why if she ever hurt so much as a fly, she had good cause, sure as sunrise!  HELP, SOMEONE HELP HER!  THOSE BAD COPS CAN'T TAKE OUR PRETTY MOONCHILD!"
   "Don't you tell ME to pipe down and then start a hollerin like a banshee, ya cantankerous old nag..."

-------------------------------------------

   Meanwhile, inside a desperate struggle continues while the concerned spectators watch:

   Lady Cop steps over the fallen male cop and discharges the last of her ammo, determined to finally snare the troublesome woman.  She sends one last shower of exploding spheres to entangle the fleeing Moonchild! (Luck roll, please Moonchild)
   The Old Cop rushes around the other side of the sofa and makes a grab for Moonchild's shirt, but misses in his haste, fingers just brushing across her shoulder, harmlessly.

  OOC: 12:40, Today: LoC rolled 5 using 1d10+1. Lady Cop/Old Cop initiative.

12:48, Today: Secret Roll: LoC rolled 11 using 1d20. Old Cop unarmed attack.

12:47, Today: LoC rolled 6 using 1d20. Lady Cop attacks (tangler).
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:51, Sun 22 Jan 2012.

PM

Simon pulls one of his boomagran out of his backpack.
He may have got it very wrong but seems he sent here to find The Moonchild, what ever that is.
It seems the men in uniforms are badies.

Jail seems to be the most likely outcome.
Walking slowly and trying be as small as possible Simon move round building trying find this moonchild.

 She dodged the Lady cops tangler and the bashed cops reach and ran down the hall as fast as she could, her nonskid shoes making her faster than the cops in their civilian street shoes! She crashed through the crash-doors and headed down the sidewalk away from the group of elderly people watching the show her friend and helper were putting on for them.
 She reached up to pull some of her long hair out of her eyes and nearly ran into a young man carrying a boomerang. She grabbed at him to keep from knocking him down, or from falling down herself.
"Sorry! Sorry! Please, watch out! There's some fake cops with weird guns chasing me! They took the FBI guy and the "Count" through some kind of gate or hole or something! RUN!"

   There are cries of alarm, and frightened whinnies as the Old Cop and the Lady Cop run out the front door, guns drawn, running after Moonchild.  They are surprised to see Simon, but it does not slow them down.  With looks of determination on their faces, they rush onwards to capture her, heedless of anyone or anything else.

18:18, Today: LoC rolled 9 using 1d10+1. Lady Cop/Old Cop initiative

   As Moonchild turns she notices the police car directly ahead of her.  Beyond is the highway and a small copse of willows and birch where the land starts to rise somewhat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:20, Fri 27 Jan 2012.

 She looks at Simon as the cops come crashing out the door, notices he looks strange too, and without really thinking about it tries to urge him toward the trees in the copse on the hill.
"Come on! RUN! They are NOT cops! I don't know what they ARE but they are not cops! One is wearing tennis shoes for gods sake! RUN!"

18:16, Today: Moon Child rolled 3 using 1d10+2. init.

Simon is left a little stunned by the group of people coming out of old peoples home.
However he put two and two and come up with "help needed".

He let Moon child and cops pass him.  He be just teen age boy to them.
Then when passed him he pulls out one of his boomarangs.
Giving him good distance to throw it but also clear line sit.
With flick of his wrist he let at fly at Old cop.  Aiming for side of his head.

He then move forward to follow up with another boomaroong if needed and pick up one thrown.

OOC:-
00:35, Today: Simon Smith rolled 18 using 1d20+2. init.
00:36, Today: Simon Smith rolled 10 using 1d20. attack with boomarong.

Not sure if move after an attack but hay.

Don't know what damage a boomarong is but should be along lines knocking person or animal out (or at least nocking them over.  Leaving them going face down in dirt which while running do some more damage) instand of killing them.

Also I don't thing anybody going be expecting boomarong hit them in side of head.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:53, Fri 27 Jan 2012.

OOC:  I know you aren't familiar with the system, Simon so I'll take a moment to mention a few things here:

   Initiative is rolled with a 1d10 and your initiative modifier is added, which for you is the plus two as you guessed.  So let's take ten off your initiative and call it 8 instead of 18.

   The cops start out about 60 feet from you and Moonchild, and they are running which is double their movement.  If you decide to wait until the cops pass you by you will not make any move this turn.  Its up to you if you don't want to take any action.  BUT before you do, I need a LUCK ROLL please which is 1d20 and should be at or under your LUCK ROLL to pass, which for you is an 7.

   Guinness Book of Records has the world record distance for a boomerang throw to be about 79 feet, so I'd give your boomerang about the range of a spear, with forty feet being average distance and extreme range being eighty feet.  If you choose to attack either of them it will be at mid point in their movement or thirty feet, which is average for your boomerang.

   Cops are moving fast, enough to give you a -2 to your Physical Score, which is your base chance to hit with any attack.  Your Physical is 12 minus 2 = 10 so your attack will hit.  Roll me 1d4+1 for damage.  The plus one is for your boomerang skill of one, not your muscle, which does not count on ranged weapons.

   Now let me know if you are attacking this round or if you are waiting and hoping the cops go passed you.

   Both cops, flying forwards, aim their pistols, one at Simon and one at Moonchild, the Lady cop attacking Moonchild, the Old Cop going for Simon.  The Lady cops shot goes off to the left of the fleeing Moonchild, but the Old Cops attack is more successful, tiny metallic spheres bursting around Simon and releasing their sticky tangle webs

22:16, Today: LoC rolled 9 using 1d20. Old Cop attack (Tangler).
22:13, Today: LoC rolled 11 using 1d20. Lady Cop attack (Tangler).

LUCK ROLL SIMON PLEASE.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:22, Fri 27 Jan 2012.

Simon tries deal with cop attacking him then throws his boomarong at old cop.

OOC:
01:43, Today: Simon Smith rolled 8 using 1d20. luck.
05:57, Fri 27 Jan: Simon Smith rolled 3 using 1d4+2. damage.
01:45, Today: Simon Smith rolled 19 using 1d20. attack with boomarong.

   Simon doesn't manage to toss his boomerang in time to stop himself from being bound by the black sticky webs that explode out from each tiny micro sphere showering around him.  He falls hard to the ground unable to move as the two false cops rush over.  The Old Cop activates an odd looking machine in his hand and suddenly a rift appears in mid air, exactly like the one Moonchild saw earlier inside the main building.  The Lady cop walks over Simon disdainfully, her sights still on Moonchild.
  "Give me the teleport key, I will fetch the female human.  Take this one back to Imirrhos now." the female cop snapped, almost snatching the key away from the older man.  She ran after Moonchild even as the other one hefted Simon and carried him through the waiting portal...

OOC: Simon you may post in this thread now, with your fellow prisoners:

link to a message in this game

   Moonchild manages to make it across the street to the copse of trees, but the female cop is only a few minutes behind her...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:43, Mon 30 Jan 2012.

 She ran across the road and dived into the brush and undergrowth in the copse, the thickest thicket she could find, hoping the lady "cop" would get tangled in it, while she herself was used to the woods and knew how to roll right over the top without becoming too tangled.
 She grabbed up a branch off the ground and waited for the lady to come running through.

rolled an 11 (1d10+2)
This message was last edited by a game editor at 04:15, Tue 31 Jan 2012.

   She entered the woods just minutes later.  Scanning the area, she bent down, looking for signs of where her quarry had fled.  The human couldn't have gotten far, she knew.  If she were still running it would be noisy and obvious.  No she was hiding, somewhere.  Slowly, warily, the false cop walked forwards, sweeping her strange pistol left and right, eyes darting at every sound.

   "I know you are here, human female called MoonChild.  Surrender and it shall go much easier on you," she called out in her odd two toned voice.

 When she got close and passed the tree she was hiding behind, she used the branch to try to stun her and bring her down. Once down, she'd try to get the lady's feet tangled in the vines and briars, then she'd grab the weird gun and take off her cop shirt to wear over hers. Maybe she could open a doorway and go rescue the FBI man.
 "Lady, you done messed with the wrong girl! I may be loonie, but I can still get around the woods better than you!"

22:18, Today: Moon Child rolled 10 using 1d20. attack

   Although the Lady Cop is expecting some sort of response from Moon Child, the young woman's attack from behind seems to catch the woman off her guard.  Moon Child beats her with the heavy branch several times...

OOC: You just hit, Moon Child, roll me 1d6+1 please

 She bashes the lady cop in the head with the branch trying to knock her out, so she can take the gate device and her uniform to put on over her own clothes.

   The female cop crashes to the ground, quaking violently for a few moments before she slows and lays still.  She turns her head to stare up at Moon Child for a moment, a strangely serene expression on her face, then her eyes close and she does not move again.

 She knelt to check the woman's pulse, then quickly stripped off her uniform. She put it on over her own clothes, then gathers up leaves to cover the woman's torso, in attempts to keep her body warm. She prays that the woman doesn't die. If she was possessed by some creature or spirit, maybe it would leave her unharmed.
 She picked up the gate device and tried to figure out how it works, then tried to use it. If it works, she will step through once she's decided if it's safe to do so or not.

   The woman seems to be alive, but definitely unconscious.  When Moon Child removes the female cop's uniform she beholds a sight she could not possibly have expected.  On the back of the female cop, underneath her heavy police jacket, Moon Child sees a small humanoid, perhaps not more than a foot and a half in size: large bald head, little eyes, spindly legs and arms, sallow skin.  It is joined to the woman by some sort of spinal link that runs along the back of this creature and into the lady cop's back below the shoulders and again at the small of her back.  The little Puppet Master appears to be as incapacitated as its host.

   When Moon Child turns her attention to the device, she remembers how the other Old Cop used it back at the main house.  It flashes light in a rainbow of colours, but it does seem to have a pattern that can be followed.  It is very sensitive and touching it lightly in the proper sequence produces a glowing rent in the fabric of reality that hovers in the air, as if waiting for Moon Child to enter...

   The sound of sirens wails nearby as two more police vehicles race into the parking lot, swerving to a sudden stop.  Peeking through the trees, Moon Child can make out six more cops, three from each car, exit the vehicles and draw weapons.  One cop gestures to the others and they begin to fan out, searching.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Sat 04 Feb 2012.

 She used the stick to try to pry the alien thing off the woman's neck, and bashes it again with the stick, hoping to kill the parasite. Then she uses the device to open the gate... She stops briefly to consider trying to take the woman with, but decided against it. She doesn't know what she'd be taking the helpless woman in to, but it couldn't be a good place if it were full of aliens!
This message was last edited by a game editor at 06:33, Sun 05 Feb 2012.