“The plan seems relatively solid, as long as no one here has any objections or differing suggestions.”

Lynx thought about further asking if some of the lieutenant’s officers could be on standby at a reasonable distance, but after some consideration, she assumed any police presence close enough to help would only hurt the plan.

White Lynx speeds off to the address, and, soon(ish), returns with a bundle in a brown sack. She shows the group the results-- it's a Silver Streak costume that fits her, with, ah, a bit of padding here and there and extra elastic there and here, so as to cut a more gender-neutral silhouette than would have happened otherwise.

Everyone is ready...

Since all four heroes are capable of getting to Flynn's house faster than a car (as long as a flyer carries Scraps, as usual), the (non-canine) heroes are given directions (followable from the air or ground) to Flynn's house.

They should arrive at the location with more than enough time to get into position for their plan...
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:02, Sun 02 Feb 2020.

Goodwill took to the air miles away from the house, and approached from a high altitude. He had excellent distance vision, but from this height he'd definitely need the binoculars he'd clipped to his belt. Since the idea was to see without being seen, he stayed as high as he could reasonably manage without rendering even the binoculars useless.

It seemed her role was to wait for the distraction from the Lynx, then gain access to the house with the Wonder Dog to rescue the hostage. That suited Cosmos just fine, as it meant she got to fly with a doggy, and that resulted in the inevitably wuzzing of soft furry ears.

She landed far enough away to avoid alerting the local inhabitants, then ran to get close to the house access point. She might not have had super speed, but she was in superb condition, and being able to change local gravity meant she could run with far greater grace and velocity than a human might expect. It took little time to get in position. She almost hoped someone did try to cause trouble. She had no time for those who stole away a kid. ANd she also had the belligerence of youth...

Scraps wasn't sure why Gil had gone away.
He understood that he was to stay with the girl that smelt like those purply flowers mixed with bee-food, but this was the first time that Gil wasn't with him ... the first time they were not working together as a team, and his demeanour probably showed it.
Scraps lacked a little of the zest he often had, and felt.

But he was a trained fire fighting dog, from a long line of fire dogs ... and sometimes a well trained pup needed to go with different fire fighters into a situation.
But he missed his human.

As he scampered though the nearby bushland at the back of the big house, he allowed his Enhanced Senses take in the scene ahead.   Notably, if (and where) other dogs were present.   If there were bottoms to be sniffed, you could be sure that Scraps would be in there nose first.

When the flowery scented honey girl came to a halt, and took cover, Scraps joined her.

Now completely encased in this other costume, Ch’rava felt strangely comfortable. She knew she was still stuck in Diana’s skin but, even just at the costume level, it was nice to be able to be someone else again. And whoever designed this replica did a fine job of it too! It didn’t really give her away as a, well her, and it was decently comfortable to boot. As long as she didn’t try to say anything more than deep grunts, she wouldn’t expect anyone to know it wasn’t Silver Streak. Unless of course someone knew him well, or at all, and got a good, long, close look at her. In any case, for all intents and purposes, she was Silver Streak now.

After waiting long enough for everyone to get in position, Streak dashed off, careful to avoid any visible sparking. Sliding to a stop just out of view from Flynn’s house, Streak took a moment to expel any excess electrical energy before making a rather noticeable entrance. Running figure-eights in the ground just outside of the home.

Goodwill sees a few (well, three) henchman standing guard here and there around the estate. One is smoking a cigarette. They're all dressed the same, in dark gray, with sort of ski-masks that have no holes except for the eyes, which are all covered by big goggles, giving them a vaguely goldfish-headed look (except for being dark charcoal instead of gold).

Each is armed with firearms.

They don't look up. (They're expecting a powered hero, but one who runs around on the ground, not flies, after all.)

(It is reasonable to presume that the lieutenant would have gladly given the heroes walkie-talkies, if they wanted them.)

Scraps:

As he scampered though the nearby bushland at the back of the big house, he allowed his Enhanced Senses take in the scene ahead.   Notably, if (and where) other dogs were present.   If there were bottoms to be sniffed, you could be sure that Scraps would be in there nose first.

(Scraps, give me an Insightful roll, please...)




White Lynx // "Silver Streak" immediately sees the henchpeople radioing in on walkie-talkies...

...But it proves not to be necessary. A guy wearing a blood-red bodysuit rushes out of the house (by the front door) and out onto the lawn. His hair is dark, shoulder-length, and very wavy (and kinda dirty-looking-- the longer one's hair is, the harder it is to keep it clean, when one is running around at super-speed), and he's got a mustache and a little goatee. He exudes a sort of casual, murderous confidence, and feels pretty darn dangerous.

A second-floor window breaks outward, because a shorter man, about five-foot six, jumps through it. He's covered head to toe in what look like tight black bandages. It would seem almost stupid of him, in a way, because while he's up there in mid-air, there's no way for him to dodge White Lynx // "Silver Streak" ...To her eyes, he's really falling in slow-motion. Except if she goes over there to mess with bandaged-guy, she'll open herself up to an attack from Breakneck...

No sign of a third dude yet. Maybe he's with the hostage, or maybe he's just taking his time heading to the front door, or maybe he's taking a nap or having a sandwich, who knows.

Scraps still hunkered next to the honey-smell girl, watching and listening and sniffing the scene ahead of them.
- rolled 11 using 2d6 with rolls of 5,6.  Insight roll.

Cosmos hunkered down and whispered softly to the pooch. "What do you smell, boy?"

Not that she would likely understand what the dog replied. She did not speak puppy.

Still, she smashing glass made her tense up, but she kept her power in check, lest the glow give her away. She spoke very softly into the walkie-talkie she had been given. "Goodwill? What do you see? Am I clear to enter? Um... over?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:29, Fri 14 Feb 2020.

Allowing Bandage Man to fall with style, “Silver Streak” approached Breakneck, waiting either for the man to speak or to begin fighting. Keeping an eye on the both of them, “Streak” hoped they were just planning on chatting.

Beyond that, “Streak” would have loved to notify how two of them were out front now, but “Streak’s” walkie-talkie wasn’t supposed to be on until after either the situation ended or “Streak’s” cover was blown. Hopefully Goodwill’s position was good enough to see them.

There were two figures in the front yard. As near as Goodwill could tell, they were two of the three supers. Then there were three other men, each one patrolling another side of the house. These would be thugs-for-hire, and no match for any of the supers they faced. Their most dangerous ability was the ability to alert the others, at which point all hell could break loose.

There was one more super to contend with, but he was nowhere to be seen. Guarding the kid, most likely.


"You've only got one man between you and the back door," Goodwill explained, still watching from above through his binoculars. "One super is still inside, somewhere.

"When this guy next passes your position you'll have about twenty seconds to get inside before he turns back and sees you. On my mark... stand by... mark."

Scraps sniffs the air deeply a few times.

--This is the house of that nice old man who was back at the police station.

--And a nice little boy lives around here somewhere, too. Plays out in this yard a lot, or did until a couple of days ago...

--There's also some bad guys. Grrrr. One remind him of Silver Fast Guy. Not nice like Silver Fast Guy, but fast like Silver Fast Guy was fast. Huh. But he's definitely a bad guy.

--There's also two guys around who smell even weirder.

----One is kind of alive, but kind of dead. A bad guy.

----One is even weirder... Smells a little like that strange man at the museum who had that weird ball or whatever it was. Not the same smell at all, but a little similar somehow, like old incense. Except the museum man smelled like fire and swamps, and whoever's here smells like... wine and sweat and hot peppers. But worse than that. Definitely another bad guy.

--There's several other humans around, but they don't smell special like the others. They just smell like normal humans. Some of them only barely smell like bad guys.





Then the fast bad guy ran out the front door, and the alivedead bad guy jumped out the front window. Grr. Yeah, these were bad guys.




"Wow, you're eager to mix it up, huh? I take it that means you remember me?" Breakneck yelled to White Lynx//"Silver Streak." "Right after the Doc died? I sure remember you... I guess he had some of the stuff left, huh?"




Cosmic Girl, holding Scraps, moved... (I presume? If so, roll an Agile check, Cosmic Girl...)

"OK!" Not Copy or Roger, as Cosmos was not really that familiar with walkie talkie type protocols.

She tried her best to slip towards the way into the house, small doggy in her arms. But she was not used to carrying this sort of wrigglesome burden, and sneaking was not her usual modus operandi. She was more a blow away the side of the building and ask questions later sort of operative...

<<OOC: 20:04, Today: Cosmic Girl rolled 7 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 3,3.  Agile roll! I suck.>>

Cosmic Girl speeds to the back door of the house. No one seems to see her (so far)... but when she gets there, it's locked. Now what?

(Scraps, give me ANOTHER Insightful check real quick, please...)

- rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 2,2.  Another Insightful roll, real quick

See, that’s what happens when you rush an artist of my caliber!

(Scraps gets -1 on his next roll, but gets 1 new xp.)

Eugh, someone's been smoking some strange type of cigarettes by this door lately. Yuck! Scraps will be of limited help to Cosmic Girl for the next several seconds (or longer?)...

Cosmic Girl frowned. Lockpicking had not been part of her curriculum while she was training. Locked doors were usually vaporised or kicked in. Covert work was presenting a lot of new challenges.

But she was up for the task.

She gently placed one finger against the keyhole. She tooka few deep breaths, and very, very gently, she let a tiny trickle of cosmic radiation infuse the lock. She counted quietly in her head. One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three hippo... or is that hippopotami? Fou... damn, lost track... let's just play it by ear...

Hopefully, the exposure to the radiation would slowly, quietly, vaporise the lock. No lock on the door - no more problem! Just so long as nobody inside noticed the greenish-magenta aurora lurking about the lock from the other side!

(Interesting... do a Confident check, please...

(There are those who might say, "Wouldn't this be a Forceful check?" To those people, I say: I thought of that, and decided to ask for a Confident check anyway, thank you.))

OOC: 17:47, Today: Cosmic Girl rolled 12 using 2d6 with rolls of 6,6.  I feel confident! Let's check!!!

That's right people. HOW D'YOU LIKE THEM APPLES, LOCK OF DOOM????

Externally, nothing appears to happen with the lock.

When she tries the door again, though, the door silently swings open.

Cosmic Girl (holding Scraps) quickly steps inside the door (closing it behind her), and is now in the kitchen.

There's no one else in there, just her and Scraps.

So far so good... now what?

(Look for the boy, presumably...?)

Cosmos placed the dog on the floor and then whispered to it. "All right. Time to show how much of a wonder dog you are! Can you get the scent of the boy? If you can take me to him, it will save time." And, a guard is unlikely to expect a puppy, nor would they likely fire on one. He would be a good distraction. Spotting a doggy would likely make someone act surprised. And make it a lot easier to kick his goshdarned behind!

(Sounds like it's time for another Insightful check, Scraps, but don't forget your -1 penalty from that last roll...)

Whaddami here?   An damaged Insight Jukebox?   :-p
- rolled 6 using 2d6-1 with rolls of 1,6.  Penalised Insight.

Scraps was not really focused at that moment, instead he was snuggling out some sneezes, and irritatedly pawing at his nose ... trying to get rid of the disgusting scents that had been left here by the humans.

The puppy just paws at his nose. Apparently something in the air doesn't agree with him, at least for the immediate future.

(Scraps takes -1 forward but gets 1 new xp.)

What now?

(Note, trying again is not allowed, at least not yet... I'll tell you if and when you're allowed to try again...)

Doc? Stuff? Those sounded important. Should “Streak” have asked for more of a briefing or something? They guessed that, even if they had been told everything, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference if they couldn’t sound like him. Whatever. This info was useless. “Streak” sank into a lower stance and raised their fists. They hoped all Breakneck wanted was a race, but, well, it wasn’t like they could ask. Hopefully, he’d get the message. “Streak” was here and wasn’t interested in smalltalk.