Microwave Pantometry (Updated)

I played my Pantsomancer again tonight in another session of Truth & Justice. Click for Recap of the previous session.

The big bad was running us ragged most of the session, but we managed to figure out where his lair was, and arranged an ambush. Time for some more stupid Trouser-Magic tricks. On paper, I'm the weakest superhero in the party, but I didn't let that stop me. I fought dirty.

To make a long story short, I found myself in a kitchen, far from the fight scene, but with an established sympathetic link between a pair of pants I was holding, and the pair of pants the villain was wearing. I knew the villain was mopping the floor with my buddies, and that I'd only get a couple quick shots at him before he realizes the Pantomancy involved in my attacks and strips down to his supervillain under-roos.

Wasting no time, I grab a Kitchen Knife. I shove it into the pocket of the pair of pants I'm holding. Lucky attack roll, too. The blood that oozes out tells me that my Voodoo Doll trick worked. I'm squarely into Anti-Hero territory now.

Then I run across the kitchen to the microwave oven. I throw the pants into it, with the big metal knife still in the pocket, and the magic link between pairs of pants still open. I turn on the microwave, which results in heating, radiation, and a shower of sparks cascading down the knifeblade. Elsewhere, the bad guys pants are exploding and burning around him.

It was all stupidly effective, because the bad guy kept using his big defensive powers on the superstrength punches and other massive attacks he could see coming from the Tank / Brick PCs, and had no defense against cutlery and microwave radiation manifesting in his trousers. Not very becoming of a hero, but it sure got the job done. When all was said and done, I had done more damage to him than the rest of the party did.

Update: It has been brought to my attention, that it's possible my Pantometry / Pantomancy wasn't as effective as I imagined it to be. Seems the bad guy had defensive / regenerative powers that would allow horrible wounds to exist, and then just heal up right afterwords. Which means that possibly when I thought I was doing all that damage, he might have been soaking it up. It still felt darned good to squeeze even a few drops of effectiveness out of something as silly as pants-flavored-magic.

Truth, Justice, and Pantsomancy

Tonight's session at the weekly one-shot group was the second leg of a three chapter short-shot that started at a session I'd missed a few weeks ago. The system is Truth & Justice, a light and flexible superhero RPG (I was quite impressed by the system, to be honest).

One of the existing PCs was Geckoman, like Spiderman with a tongue instead of webs. That encouraged us to be a little odd, too.

Sarah's character, Madame Griselda, is a psychic with temporally-displaced senses. She can smell the future and hear the past, or was it the other way around?

My character is Peter Braccae, aka The Trouser Weasel. Occultist, Reformed Criminal, Tailor. My power is control of pants. I can summon pants, teleport myself to pants, transmute pants, reach into my pocket and pull out your wallet (or car keys, or whatever's in your pants), etc. My signature stunts are the Panteleportation Swap (I go to your pants, you go to mine) and Immobilize From The Waist Down. My weakness is skirts, kilts, and nudists.

I just sent the following email to the other players. The plot is far too complicated for me to explain, but I think this will stand without further context beyond "Dread Wizard Calvin is the badguy, and he has a wild cat as a familiar." Here's the email:

Those of you who wear pants find the following note in your pocket. It's been laminated in hopes that it will survive all the rain, and to make it a little more noticeable when it's inserted into your pants. It reads:

"My esteemed colleagues,

I was walking miss Griselda home from the Trolley ambush, and as we talked, a theory hit me. It's gonna sound pretty ridiculous, and I don't mind if you call me crazy. Dirty looks and funny names don't hurt a guy like me. As you may know, my ancestors were excommunicated for heretical Pantsomancy. In this enlightened age, the science of Pantsometry is finally getting some acceptance, but it's been a long hard road full of dirty looks and funny names. A few more of each won't bother me.

More to the point: Griselda tried to smell the future, and she can't smell The Dread Wizard Calvin at all. Funny thing that - a guy in a fancy suit, who's pet is a wild cat, and he ain't got no scent. You'd expect some fancy cologne, or lacking that, some cat dander and piss. But no, nothing, nada, like a totally normal generic nondescript everywhere kinda scent.

Likewise, I tried to teleport to his pants, and struck out. Wrong pants, wrong guy. These ain't no simple pants, neither. Distinctive. Green Armani. Hard to confuse 'em. They don't sell pants like that in Harbor City. If they did, I'd own a pair. One way or another.

So what kind of guy looks like a million bucks, but's got no pants and no smell? An illusory guy, that's who. He ain't no wizard, he's a scentless well-dressed red herring. My money's on the cat. I bet it's a magic cat, hiding behind a guy who never was. It's some kinda exotic breed, probably related to a Cheshire.

Calvin = Illusion, Cat = Illusionist

That's a tough nut to crack. Like the Pope, a cat's got no pants. Don't know how to fight a pantsless cat. This one's gonna take some out of the box thinking. I'll let you know when I come up with a plan.

In conclusion, I'm really honored that you invited me to team up with you. You're real heroes, the kind I've always wanted to be. Feels good to be part of something. Maybe we should consider a team uniform. I'll sketch up some designs, and send your pockets a memo.

Fashionably yours,

The Trouser Weasel."