((OOC: So there's a complication? I want to see how the Dog handles that, and hoping we can get closer so I can try to do something that I'm a little too far back to do right at this moment.))

22:26, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 2,4 using d6-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of 3,5.  Notice with the Goggles.

Roll to support!

Kelly thought they might be getting away from the Iron Man for good or worse, but out of the corner of her eye, a real trick in these goggles, she spotted it.

"Harry!  There's a zombie in the road!"

One of the deadites had come out of the treeline.  It had been separated from the rest of the pack and it was even stupider than most of its ilk, because it was sprinting at impressive speed straight for the Black Dog!  It stood no chance of course, but that stupid thing might gets itself wrapped around an axle!

The Driver swerves, attempting to avoid the walking roadkill, but it's too late. The zombie goes under the wheels with a sickening crunch and the truck lurches as the deader's body hits the axles.

((OOC: 00:54, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 0,2 using d10-2,d6-2, rerolling max with rolls of 2,4.  Driving for The Driver.

That looks like a Fail. What happens now?))

The Driver caught Kelly's warning just as he started revving the massive engine.  Tires pawing and the pavement to drag the rig back up to speed.  The whole rig jerked suddenly to the left away from the stinker stumbling suddenly into the road.  Not quite far enough...  The dead thing is knocked flat and rolled over; exploding in an absolutely foul smelling gout of waxy flesh and bone that splashes back along the passenger side of the rig.  Its smelly.  Its horrible.  But, at least for now, probably no permanent harm...

I did add the Support from Kelly, but it brought the Dog to a 3.  Out of Control.  The results of the Out of Control was a Glitch (Critical Hit); the results of the Critical Hit were a chassis hit which is cosmetic and has no special effect.  So, horrible paintjob and that new car smell is a bit overwhelmed at the moment.

Harry!  You and the Dog are free to take the rest of your action!  No one died and the truck is still mobile!

Jonesy still has an action, but is free to Hold for now as the truck tries to catch up.

The results of Fletcher's Puppet will become evident next round.

The Dog rumbled forward, closing in on the opposing rig...

((OOC: The Dog's Drive Roll to move position:

23:50, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 8,4 using d10+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 6,2.  Driving for The Driver.

Looks like a Raise, so that's two cards up, yes?

What does that put my range at? I need to know to figure out the range penalty for Harry's Attack.))

"Thaaaaat....  Heeeee  ssssooooooooooon..."

The Iron Man's warsong continued to stretch and glitch with feedback.  The Iron Man's truck continued to speed forward down the old blacktop.  Fletcher was close enough to see that the Iron Man himself was juddering and twitching.  The lights marking his ocular sensors flicker, as does the energy conduit running along the barrel of his particle accelerator...

I pulled Initiative, just in case of complications, and drew none!  I rolled for the Iron Man's spirit to resist, in case Fletcher wants him to do something untoward to himself, and he got a 2.  So...  Fletcher has him tight for the round.

You are all free to go!  Which is to say, Fletcher can make his Puppet dance for the round.  Harry can move the Dog forward and possibly take a shot.

Ride Eternal, Shiny and Chrome! - Chase Round 4

Chase!

AD -

4C - The Iron Man's Truck, Fletcher's Bike

5D -

6H -

QD -

6D - The Black Dog

RJ! -

10C -

QC -

Chase Actions!

QH - Harry & The Dog

JH - Kelly

7S - Iron Man

3S - Fletcher

3D - Dean(not)

Fletcher did his best to keep his bike steady as he reached down and pressed a few buttons on a hacked together looking keypad clipped to his pocket.

OOC: Fletcher will issue commands to stop the truck and/or drop the gun, jump down, and lay face down on the road.

I'm unsure how the truck driving computer program hookup he has is working, but the main goal is to get him away from the truck and on the ground, I figure he won't be banged up at all if he has to jump off the back of a moving truck to make that happen, worse comes to worst.

The Iron Man suddenly lurched towards the tail gate of the truck.  Large armored boots smashed through it and the power armored figure stepped off the speeding truck. The remaining power cables snapped with popping flashes of more violently released voltage.  The Iron Man crashes into the pavement very hard.  The cannon tumbled from his hand, skidding down the pavement and whipping along on its own armored power tether.  The armored man became a wrecking ball of arms,legs, and armor plate; crashing and rolling in a sparking mess down the road.  The amplifier gear is completely smashed in the tumble and the music ceases entirely.

The truck carried on as though nothing had changed at all.  It trailed the snapped power cables, which lashed about in showers or arc and spark.  Should it continue in its straight line, which it seemed content to do, it would fly off the road at the next curve and into the woods...

Iron Man is Down!  Well...  Tumbling and sparking and smashing up the road...  But definitely down.

Fletcher would be able to stay ahead of him, so he's safe.  The Dog is far enough back to have time to slow down.

Fletcher!  NOTICE!

Everyone else, what do you do?

Fletcher brought the dirt bike to a stop as he sloppily swung it around so it was facing back the way they had come from.

ooc: Fletcher rolled 5,5.  Wild, notice

*crash, smash, clank, sssskkkkkrreeeeeeech*

Harry briefly considered urging The Driver to gun the engine and run the suit over, but common sense won out. The Dog began to slow, to avoid a collision, while still drawing nearer so that the Ma Deuce could have a shot.

Instead, Harry leaned out the window to take a few pot shots to distract the Iron Man's pilot again.

Which is why he didn't notice the lump of cabling and metal from the cannon that went under The Dog's wheels...

((OOC: The Driver is going to try to move cards so that we're closing in, but I can't actually ram him, so it's just going to be more movement.

22:44, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 3,3 using d10+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,1.  Driving for The Driver.

Fucking seriously?

So that's a Crit Fail, which means another Out of Control roll.

Let's see what happens here before Harry actually takes his action.))

Wires and chunks of the sound system ripped away as the Iron Man bounced along the pavement.  They hurtled back down the road straight into the path of the Dog.  The Driver attempted to swerve the rig, but only managed to hit one of the chunks.  The whole rig bounced violently as the wheels crashed over the junk.  The jostling threw everyone off balance and scrambling for handholds to keep from falling off the flat bed....

Out of Control Result! Everyone is Distracted (-2 to Rolls for this Round)
Also Bumped Iron Man, because that was fair point.

I left this Chase Round to allow a chance for some sort of ramming or cool move...but that got spoiled by the Crit Fail.  SO!  The Chase can be over.  Unless anyone really has something they need to do?

HARRY!  If you want to, you can feel free to ram the Iron Man as the start of the next "round" or you can skid the rig to a halt near him.  Everyone else hold on just a minute till we figure out

Harry took the wheel, helping The Driver keep control as the rig slid around. All thought of trying to ram the Iron Man fled as he worked to bring the rig to a halt.

Fletcher quickly input another set of commands.  The control mechanism he'd bodged together didn't have infinite juice, and it hadn't escaped the Iron Man's tumble unscathed.

He waved an arm in The Dog's direction as he worked.  "Hold fire!"  He called out to them, then added.  "But grab cover just in case."

ooc: Going to try ordering a separation between the Iron and the Man.

Kelly, realizing everything had just come to a horrible end, leapt down, well more like climbed down with her limbs shaking, then re-drew Connor and closed to the Iron Man.  She had no idea what she was going to do exactly but she couldn't let him rise and harm someone.

The Iron Man started to push himself up from the asphalt.  Road grit scarred across the plating.  Exposed wiring crackles.  The servo motors whine and seen to give out randomly, making his whole effort a sad struggle.

When Fletcher centered his device again on the armored man, twisting knobs and pushing buttons, the Iron Man seemed to flinch.  There were hisses of venting air.  More servos whirring.  There was a voice from inside the armor, not amplified now, muffled by the plating, "NO!  DON'T!!  STOP!!!  STOP!!!" It was desperate.  It was scared.

The Iron Man's systems fought whatever it was Fletcher was trying to do.  He started to bring up his arm towards the wily mechanic.  The arm with the machinegun....

LAST STAND OF THE IRON MAN!

Fletcher!  He scored an 8 on the resist!  Beat him and he'll be forced out of the armor.  Which will be a very bad day for a certain armored fella.

Everyone else!  Iron Man is trying to level that machine gun on Fletcher!  If you can Shake him, you will prevent him from opening fire!  Tests work!  Also the .50 is free to fire!

MAKE IT COOL!

Fletcher input a second sequence, to try and trigger the armor's release.  He was intent enough on his work that he didn't notice the weapon until the last moment.

Fletcher rolled 4,4 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4.  WS, WD.

Going to spend that blue chip I just got, since while I don't mind having to change plans, I don't want him succeeding with a raise.

Fletcher rolled 5 using 1d6.  Chip to not lose control.

That also works.

So 9 total.

Armed like a knight of old, Kelly had to fight like one.  Master Zhang had taught her much, including the murder-stroke, or as she preferred to call it, the mordhau.  The technique looked bizarre to anyone ignorant of how a sword was actually used, and to be fair, it certainly looked patently backwards to hold a sword by the sharp end and beat your opponent with the blunt end.  It was certainly a niche technique in the current era.

But here was its niche.  In its time, it had been used against heavily armored opponents who could not be cut by the blade, but whose motions could be impended by being beat with the hilt.  Done correctly, it could deform joints in the armor and prevent the wearer from moving, turning his protection into incapacitation, or trip an opponent wearing heavy armor to the ground.

She inverted Connor and put him to work.

I'm going to use this as a Fighting Test because this maneuver doesn't actually hurt the opponent, but it focuses on using the sword like a combination of a hammer and nightstick/tonfa to impede the enemy's mobility and incapacitate him from doing anything effective.  Yes, this actually is a real technique I swear I am not making this up.

I am presuming Improved Trademark Weapon counts.  Also, if he's prone, some penalty on his part to resist/oppose the test might be appropriate.

11:23, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 3,6 using d10+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4.  MORDHAU.

Ehhhh... that's not a BAD roll but let's make it better.

11:24, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 5 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5.  BLUE MORDHAU.

Turn that 6 into an 11.

Connor's cross guard hammered down into the Iron Man's elbow joint.  The gun tilted up and chattered bullets into the sky.  As the reversed sword was drawn back, it hooked into the joint at the neck and pulled the helmet to the side.  The desperate, muffled voice inside screamed again, "NO!!  NOOOOO!!!"

Then the helmet cracked with a hiss.  Chest and abdomen plates cracked and hissed open as well.  More panels opened on the arms and legs...

This had been a night full of uncomfortable, foul odors of rot and decay.  This was another sort of uncomfortable smell.  Unwashed and rancid.  There is a man inside the armor.  A sickly, thin figure in a nasty, stained, ragged body suit.  Some small hoses and wires are still attached to ports around the suit.  What skin can be seen is deathly pale, riddled with sores.  His greyed-out, matted hair and beard are tangled in an across each other in an oily, mask shaped to the inside of the helmet.  His eyes are shut tight; against the glare of the Dog's lights most likely.  Everything indicates that this bedraggled, stinky, mess of a man likely has not been out of this armor in a very....very long time...

Well he was coming out of this armor now!  This scum didn't deserve a bullet much less her sword.  Kelly yanked him out, pulled him up, and tossed him down.

Fletcher gaped at the old man a moment.  Of the things he'd anticipated, the reality of things was not one of them.

As Kelly rather unceremoniously yanked him clear, Fletcher's attention snapped back to what he'd been doing.

As a further safeguard he gave final instructions to the armor to button back up, get onto its feet, and propel itself onto the Dog's flatbed before shutting down.  He figured he had enough juice left in his jury rigged control system to make that happen.

He wasn't sure what the plan was now, but he knew they needed to be ready to get moving again in case there was still work to be done back at the bridge.

Dean, McKellar, and the rest of the scouts were still back there, though with a river full of dead it might be they lit off the other way.

Still, things didn't feel over just yet.

The scrawny, beyond unkempt "man" blubbered and tightened his shut eyes.  As Kelly grabbed him though, he came to violent life.  He clawed at the Templar.  He bit at the Templar.  He thrashed and kicked and did absolutely everything his emaciated body could do to fend off the swordswoman's attempts to pull him free of the armor.

Which amounted almost nothing at all against the steely strength and determination of Kelly.  His attempts were more annoying than effective....

The wires and tubes snapped free of their attachment points and he screamed again, "NO NO NO NO PLEASE!!! NONONONONO!!!"

He hit the ground like the sad sack he was and curled up on himself tightly.  He continued to mutter and blubber, "Nonononononononono....  put...back...please....not out....nononono... nobody...helps....him...."

The access panels on the Iron hissed shut and it stood with a grind of servos.  The jumpjets whined to life and the armor rocketed up; blasting everyone on the street with dust wind and grit.   The Lockesburg militia scattered off the trailer as the suit crashed onto the trailer.  They grumbled and cursed at the mechanic and his remote control.

---

Prudence was already clambering down from the trailer when the suit launched.  So she kept going and turned to shield her fast from the blast.  She headed for the everyone else and specifically the man from the suit.  In her hand now was her flintlock, she was checking the priming pan and singing softly, "Stay awake....don't rest your head...

Harry, who'd been watching from inside the Dog, stepped out. No cute musical cues accompanied him this time; he wasn't in the mood. Instead, he held his reclaimed SMG loosely...not pointed at the pathetic old man who'd been living inside the suit, but ready to cover him should he make an untoward move. He also gunned the chain of his blade-arm briefly.

He pasted a mean scowl on, making him look more menacing.

It's not as if he'd actually be able to shoot or slice, though. At the moment, the chip that regulated his mind had decided that the threat had been neutralized. Harry wasn't entirely certain about that, but unless the old man made some sort of aggressive action (aside from the flailing and biting, which it seemed to recognize was not Actively Threatening) Harry wouldn't be able to make good on any threats. Better to just look big and mean for now.

"So, what do we do with him?"

"He likely knows where more of this scum is.  We need to interrogate him.  Then decide.  But he should face some form of justice for his actions."  Kelly told in no uncertain tone.

"Get up!"

The Man had begun sobbing more when the armor jumped away and he was pelted with dirt and debris.  He reached feebly after the armor and began trying to crawl his way towards the trailer, "NOOO!!!! please... please.... nonononononono.... hmmmmm..."  At Kelly's command, he...doesn't get up...  Or acknowledge in any real way.  He just keeps pathetically trying to move towards the armor.  Which is made that much harder considering that his legs and arms don't seem to have seen much useful use in a long while.