"DON'T—" The anger that flashed in Goodwill's eyes was almost a palpable force. "TOUCH—" He pushed off the bars of the cage hard enough that they bent inward; he didn't even notice. "MY—" He was across the room in a blink, his feet not touching the floor even once, and through the hole in the wall.

"DOG!!!"

The self-proclaimed knight was armored. He'd probably survive being tackled through that tree behind him.

---

It’s Clobberin’ Time!
Goodwill rolled 8 using 2d6+2 ((1,5)).
--You hit hard (+1 Stun)

This message was last edited by the player at 02:11, Mon 22 Oct 2018.

"Od's blood!" swears Sir Gareth. "With what manner of villains have you allied yourself, Drocan?" Sir Gareth questions loudly. He seems to be talking louder than he realizes, probably due to the ringing in his ears-- the tree did not survive Sir Gareth hitting it. "And besides, I hurt the mongrel not... Bah! This is woodness! Have at thee, klazomaniac!"

Sir Gareth hits Goodwill a truly mighty blow with his sword... It doesn't knock Goodwill back, but it sure hurts. (Goodwill takes 1 stress.)

"Mister, your sword won't hurt me if bullets can't." It had hurt, of course, but he was adept at not showing it. Keeping up a heroic appearance in a fight was something Goodwill worked hard to learn. He wasn't quite a master at it... yet... but at least he was really good at not showing pain. Especially not in front of a crowd, like the one that was gathering on the other side of the street.

Also, talking gave him a few extra seconds to shake off the hit.

"But I'm starting to think you've been hit in the head too many times. Scorch isn't a bad guy!"</i> This was said loudly, Goodwill hoping to whip up a cheer from the crowd. "You can't judge him based on how he looks!"

Goodwill began to circle with the knight, each of them looking to their opponent for signs of weakness.

"It would have been easy for him to go evil," he continued, projecting all the way to the cheap seats in the back. He was new in town, and getting the crowds on his side was an essential ingredient to his intended success. "The world judges him by his outside, so why not just be ugly inside? But he did the right thing. He became a hero.

"He might be the ugliest dang hero there ever was, but I'd rather be him than you.

"He's brave!

"He's noble!"

Goodwill lunged in and launched a low punch at the knight's armored stomach.

"And I don't know what klazomaniac means!"

---

Goodwill rolled 10 using 2d6+2 ((2,6)).
 --You hit hard (+1 Stun)
 --There isn’t much collateral damage and no bystanders are left in danger

This message was last edited by the player at 15:50, Mon 22 Oct 2018.

The Silver Streak clenches his fists. Of course things wouldn't be that simple. If he was going to have any chance against a speedster, he had to play it smart. If he could just find a way to get near her...

He scans the room for a disguise, any officer wearing full riot-gear.

Sure, there's two policemen wearing riot gear...

The reptilian hero sees that his unpowered companion trying to improvise tools for himself and whispers his way"Get a fire hydrant, um extinguisher." It would make sense in a bit of time. With some recollections to that time with Blue Dragon.

Looking back into the streets, it seemed that all manner of words were not going to sway this man, that much Scorch Scale could see. He seemed determined, running on principle as much as anything else. So he would have to be brutal, and lay a little smackdown on this Knight before Goodwill stole the thunder for him.

"Take on someone your own time period, knave!" He projected forwards the circling pair, waiting for the moment to strike at the knight with his flames.

It's clobberin time
19:29, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 7 using 2d6+2 ((3,2)).

--There isn’t much collateral damage and no bystanders are left in danger

As much as he saw chances to really harm his target, Scorch Scale couldn't afford to bring them to harm.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Mon 22 Oct 2018.

Snapping at the one officer on the left, the Silver Streak fills them in on his plan "Quickly, your vest, your helmet - give it to me!" he speaks with urgency, almost shouting "The only way to get near her is to surprise her, and she won't be expecting me this way! In the meantime, go! Call for support!" It was a gamble, to be sure. Silver only hoped that he had enough time to get the gear on.

EDIT : He whips over to face the corner, removes his helmet and replaces it with the officer's as quickly as possible. He had made quick changes like this countless times, but now every action felt like it went so slowly, and not because of his speed. He would be exposing his most closely guarded secret - but without his powers the situation was desperate. He would just have to deal with the fallout later.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:20, Mon 29 Oct 2018.

Just as Silver Streak finishes his change of clothing, The Impersonator returns. "Wow, super speed is the best! I just ran home, cleaned my room, started some laundry, and went and stole this week's groceries and took 'em home and put 'em away. Finally, I realized I'd better come back here and finish what I started-- jailbreaking Blue Dragon!"

"Wait, jailbreaking Blue Dragon...?" says Blue Dragon.

"Yup! Let's see, what's the easiest way to do this..." She glances around. "Ah ha!" she says, spotting a ring of keys on the Lieutenant's belt.

A couple of policemen nearest to her leap at her, but she easily zips to another spot in the room. "Ah-ah-ah! No touchy the villainess! Now, it'd be easier if you'd just hand those keys over, Mr. Police Guy..."

Outside, Scraps was having a wonderful time.

As Gil took to the armoured guy, Scraps went bounding over t the crowd of Spectators and Media that had gathered for this Media Spectacle.
And with this tail wagging at one end, and his ears and tongue flapping about at the other, he began bound around in front of, and within, the crowd ... reveling in the attention and pats that his adoring fans rained upon him.

- rolled 7 using 2d6+1 ((3,3))
= they think better of our group

The Silver Streak holds out a palm to the other officers, urging them to stay back. Slowly, deliberately, he approaches the Impersonator. He reaches a hand back, as if to make for the keys.

At the last possible second he snatches at her wrist with his other hand instead.

OOC : Not sure what to roll for this one... Hold them off?

10:24, Today: Silver Streak rolled 2 using 2d6-1 with rolls of 1,2.  Hold Them Off.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:24, Fri 26 Oct 2018.

Sure, give it a shot...

The Impersonator whips her hand back at super-speed. "Ah-ah-ah! No touchy!"

She shoves Silver Streak away from her dozens of times, all in one second. She's not that strong, but getting pushed backwards sixty times in one second will have a dramatic effect.

(Silver Streak, roll Agile.)

The crowd cheering for Scorch Scale and Scraps and Goodwill throws Sir Gareth... well, that and the damage the heroes has done. He assumes a defensive guard position, ready to smite anyone who comes within range, or to withstand any other sort of attack. "What fell bewitchment hast thou worked, Drocan, to make these heroes-- and this city-- love thee in this modern age...?"

Any applause for Scorch Scale feels a little out of place to him. Maybe a little of what the dog was doing affected him by proxy? No matter, there was a Knight interfering with him right now.

"There is no magic behind this." Scorch Scale said to the man clad in armor. "The only cause for this is the power of being an example. Whatever happened before was a thing of the past. Plus, I have bigger fish to fry." Referring to villain behind why the police sent out the newspaper letter.

In reply to The Impersonator (msg # 92):

The Silver Streak gasps for air, struggling for breath after the unexpected flurry of blows.

22:42, Today: Silver Streak rolled 6 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 1,4.  Agile.

(Silver Streak gains 1 xp and a truckload of complications to his life. The break cannot be caught.)

Silver Streak not only falls backwards... his riot helmet falls off. The high silver collar covering his neck can thusly be seen... as can his face. He grabs it and shoves it back on one long second later, but it's too late.

If anyone noted the back of Silver Streak's head in the quick change he'd done earlier, they didn't say anything. Now, though, not only was his race revealed, but even his face for a split second. There were a couple of audible reactions from the gathered policemen, such as "Oh...!" and "...Well, I'll be...!"

(09:13, CONFIDENT check: Today: The Impersonator rolled 5 using 2d6 ((1,4)). Failure.)

The Impersonator certainly noted not only his face, but also his silver collar. "What th'-- wow, no wonder I didn't see Silver Streak around here when I got back. Nice try... But... but um... but you're no match for me without your speed... Silver Streak...! Uh, muah-hah-hah!" She's trying to not make a big deal of it, but this surprise regarding the identity of Silver Streak has thrown her, and she's clearly feeling very awkward.

She's apparently even momentarily forgotten that she has the keys to the jail cells in her hand, and that she was about to free Blue Dragon... She's just sort of staring at the riot-gear-beclad Silver Streak...

Sir Gareth holds his position, and his defensive stance. "...Are you... are you... What are you? Are you suggesting-- that you are in control of Drocan, young man? And not the other way around...?"

Goodwill wound up to throw a full-power punch at the knight, and then noticed that he and Scorchy were talking. He kept his fist cocked for a second longer then dropped it.

"Put away the medieval cutlery and we can talk," he said. "In fact, if we're all copacetic, maybe you might even be able to help us out with our other problem."

"Let me deal with this." Scorch Scale directed towards Goodwill, hoping the goodie two shoes would know he meant to resolve his knight problem himself. A dragon didn't need others in this way.

Darn him, darn this Knight for asking that question. It would be so easy for Saul just to tell the truth, to air it out and have this Knight accept his existence. But Saul had put effort into the "no secret" presentation, and not without good reason.

If it was known that Scorch Scale had a secret identity, people would know he could be found, possibly blackmailed. His family and anyone he knew could be compromised. He couldn't afford that.

The dragon shaped like a human turned back to the knight to say. "Look, whomever I was before, this "Drocan" guy, some person, I don't know." Scorch Scale raised his hands to use finger quotes the old name from the book. "But I know that they are gone. Nothing but instincts up here that tell me how to do. Not what to do. I'm Scorch Scale now, and I'll show everyone why I'm the best dragon around."

That aught to have done it.

(Yeah, make a roll...

Talk things out
When you talk things out, roll +Charming
The GM will decide what happens based on your roll.)

Talk Things Out
14:45, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 7 using 2d6-1 ((5,3)).

Sir Gareth seems... overwhelmed. "This bears investigation. I shall have to report this to the Order of St. George... Meantimes, what other emergency hath gathered ye all here...?"

Meanwhile, Scraps continued to bark and play with his new friends, licking and accepting all their attention.


Without anything else to do for the moment ...
- rolled 7 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 3,3.  Play the Crowd.
     = they like our group!

"There's a girl — uh, damsel, maybe? — in the building. She's stolen the power of super-speed from our other friend." It seemed like a good time to chime in again. "We're hoping to get her to give it back before she hurts someone... or herself."

"Whoa there boy scout. The lady is being boisterous about breaking a guy out of prison." Scorch Scale reminded Goodwill. "If she were forced against her will, she would just get the job done. She's doing this of her own accord, so we need to stop it, now."