Supercape

20 so bruise for Spore

Spore "Wow! Fast!" Spore was like a rabbit in headlights - everything happening so fast. But not for long. The adrenaline speared her heart and brain, bringing sweat to her skin and her pulse to her neck. Everything swam into focus. Was it fear? Excitement? Did it even matter? She jumped into action, fast, lithe. Landing in a cool kneeling pose, her head down, her face screwed into focus. From her skin, a hundred grey-purple spores burst, ranging from microscopic to thumb nail sized. "Its sporing time!" she yelled, with a mouth that was a mix of grunt and grin.

Ok its sporing time! Fatigue 8 Effect (Fort Save DC 18) as an area burst (Reflex DC 18 for area) Will use move action to help get into optimal position

GM "Amazing!" said Dr North. "You cut through that computer like butter. Look, if you ever want to help out with WEST, then we could sure use your help. We have bases everywhere, and our headquarters is on Easter Island..." He paused, his breath a groan. "That's right. WEST is run by North on East. Haha. Yes very good. Not deliberate, I assure you. Easter Island is just the most remote landmass we could get. In case we find something a bit... you know. Explosive..." He cast his eyes to the six hypersynth clones floating. "Which reminds me - what are we going to do with these? They havent been imprinted yet. And they are explosive. But... they are still alive... arent they?"

Spore With a twitch of effort, Harper put down the camera, leaving in dangle around her neck. "Yes. See. Dang, think I got so caught up in the photographing that I actually forgot to use my eyes and soak in the sights. And the smells, for that matter!" She tapped her nose. "Mushroom nose! I can smell real good," she said. "Which is not always a good thing. But! makes me a good cook. I think... or maybe it just makes me appreciate good cooking." She gave a little laugh. "Anyway, its a great idea. Lets stick together, see the sights, and if you see any roasted pigs then let me know! I want some medieval food!"

Absolutely! Go for it!

Thats enough to get most, but not quite all, of the decrpted files. Contacts, names, dates. You can tell that the scientist was trying to sell to OVERTHROW. A few may have already reached them. But other states and terrorists organisations are also targets. Quite the gold mine for the intelligence services.

GM The back room was dark, with sullen, soporific air. Dust hang suspended. There was the grind of a malfunctioning air condition unit, a fan stuck. The air was hot. "Splendid!" said Mr Pudgeball, sweating profusely. One more guard stood here, but if the one in the main room was dozy, this guy was practically asleep on his feet, his head nodding downwards, occasionally jerking up, only to repeat the pattern. The art here was strange, vivid. Clouds, castles in clouds, strange skies, strange birds. Steampunk zepplins and ornithopters. All very alien, like a figment of imagination. And one picture in particular stood out. A man with long red hair, handsome, perhaps melancholy, elegantly dressed in 19th century drapes in the style of a gentleman. In his hand, a glass ball full of lurid green smoke. "Moyd!" said Pudgeball, pointing at the picture. "No. Seriously. Its called Moyd. Perhaps the name of the gentleman? Very mysterious painting. Odd name...." But what particularly resonated with the Dreamer was the skies and people of these paintings, particularly Moyd. It felt, surely, as if this was some dreamscape. Perhaps the dreamscape that she had come from!

Spore "Alice?" said Spore, one hand on hip, one on forehead. She still had a headache. Not surprising - she had nearly been blown up. "I mean. Sure. Alice, why not. Nice name. Pretty name. Hopefully the small details like who, why and when... hopefully you can fill me in on those.... sorry, my brain still feels like scrambled eggs." She shook her head to free it of the eggs. "And dont worry about the mushrooms. They are totally cool. Oxygen, remember? And all sorts of other benefits!" "Just say the word and you too can be the proud, and temporary, owner of a symbiotic fungus!" she said with a bright smile to the other heroes.

GM Filth and Venom smiled in unison, but it was Filth he spoke. "You saying our lands smell of crap?" he asked. "Well, they do. And my Gods they smell worse then ever right now. Yeah, we know the sewers pretty much better than anyone, and we noticed this place is like a pool of poison." "An Egg, you say? What kind of egg?" asked Filth, rodent nose twitching. "I bet its the kind that hatches," said Filth, spitting to the ground. "Like, there has been something slimy and large floating around the sewers. Now, me and Venom and all the rats here. We can look after ourselves. But we also know when we are beat. There is something down here. Something big..." He swallowed. "So if you want that egg, you going to be going up against something big..." "What is this egg?" repeated Venom.

GM "Sure, honey!" said one of the girls. "Its public service, ain't it? I mean, its horrible and anything and you know really horrible..." The other two nodded. The first continued. "Social media! Its going to be use in evidence and stuff. And we get tons of hits for this." The other two nodded, eyes wide in delight at the thought of such a bounty. The smiles were wiped of their faces as Sunshade, now fully corpreal but still completely black jumped out from the bottom of the car. Everyone gasped - the street wasn't busy but it wasnt quiet either. The sight of a living shadow was strange, even for Freedom City. "Hey, are you some kind of super hero?" said the first girl. "The hits are going to be off the scale for this!" she said, barely believing her luck. "Thats right, ladies!" smiled Sunshade, his crafty burning orange eyes swinging to Jack. "I'm a superhero! Ill just pose for you all whilst this lady metes out justice to her husband for some vague and irrelevant reason!" he said, striking a faux-flying pose and laughing. "Pfftft!" said the woman in the car. "You need a superhero to save you!" she laughed at her husband. "You really are a pathetic excuse for a man!"

GM Karen turned around and lowered the window. With a red face, livid with apoplexy, she leant her head back and then spat an impressive ball of saliva at Jack. "Get loss, %$*£*!" she screamed. "Mind your own business!" She raised her fist at him. It was a knobbled, knuckled fist, and the woman was in fair shape - presumably a lifetime of tension and puncing had given her a slice of strength. But against Jack? It would be like an 80 year old man going up against Mike Tyson. "Go on! Wow!" said one of the girls, still filming him. "Please, sir..." said the Man, holding his nose. "No need to get involved. We are fine. Its just one of those... things, you know?" he said, with a weak smile. Below the car, Sunshade's smile was so broad it nearly severed his shadowy head from his shadowy body. His voice was an oily whisper, infused with pleasure. "mmmm.... Jack, keep a lid on it. Please. You have no idea how delicious you are!"

GM "My my, aren't you the crazy queen with a silver tongue?" said Vermin, eyes twinkling red. "And you have a lizard of your own, don't you?" It scuttled around their feet a few seconds, sniffing. How anyone could sniff in this place was beyond human comprehension, but then, Vermin wasn't human. It was not entirely clear if the creature was a rat. "Royal Rat Vanguard? No thanks. I have enough problems without being your court jester," it said, nose writhing into what might be a sneer. "And you are pretty crazy, I would say. Although I am no psychiatrist." Footsteps echoed down the tunnel. "And on the subject of court jesters, here's my prime gem of a fool..." "Vermin! Vermin! Stop running away! Did you find.. did you find... huh?" It was a man. Or more precisely, a punk. A man of pretty average build. Green hair, pale skin, tattoo's. He didn't look particularly dangerous, other than the glinting knife he carried. But then, the sewers could be a dangerous place. Hobos and vagrants, crooks and thugs. And if the stories were to be believed, snakes, zombies and mutant crocodiles. And that was just the good ones. "Who are these guys?" said the punk. With remarkable agility, Vermin scuttled up the unresisting man's leg, to perch on his shoulder, licking its lips. "Friends," started Vermin. "This is my... associate. Filth." "Associate? You mean you are my pet?" said Filth, giving his rat an evil grin before turning his gaze back to the heroes. "So. Really. Who are you? This is my patch. You are trespassing!"

Pitch "What a fat bastard," said Pitch, nose wrinkling into a snort. "I've seen some pudgy demons in my time but this one has been eating too many infernal pies." The whole place streamed with infernal power. This was a hellscape, no mistake. The smell of brimstone certainly added to the flavour of the place. She looked up at the iron chandelier. "Now that looks like a trap. It couldn't look more like a trap if it had a PhD in trap studies and was walking down Trap street dressed as a Venus flytrap holding an illuminated sign saying I am a trap." "And that door. That skull is going to blurt out something occult and wicked, or maybe it will sprout out a poison coated tongue whilst cackling." "And this lump of lard?" she said, pointing to the fat demon. "Is going to fart and stink out the place with the stench of the lowest level of hell." "Which trap do we spring first?" she asked her chums, her own smile wicked and glowing with orange fiery smoke.

Sorry for delay. 12

Snakebite Cassandra gave out her hand and shook the professors. It was not easy, nor was it easy to know why it was not easy. Something about this whole caper sounded a little - what was the word? Rotten? Like a sweet fruit on the turn. Nothing you could pinpoint, but it left something distasteful in the mouth. Was it the place? or was it Cassandra Crow, running from something? Like she always ran. Was it the place, or was it her? Was she missing something? Here, or always? The questions itched in her skull, but she was wise enough to know she couldn't answer them. Questions to think about, but not to linger. "Fare well then professor. And mister... ah... mister Yeti... I shall remember this place for the rest of my days." She didn't offer her hand to the Yeti. It might very well get crushed...

Spore "Botanist? Its fungus not..." But today was not a day for biology lessons. "Yes, my liege..." she groaned. There was no time to debate King Cole's delusions of grandeur. Someone had just set off a bomb. With a little hiss of concentration and effort, Spore's skin turned blotchy, bubbly purple as the fungus within her stretch out through her body and organs. "What was this? What are they stealing?" she asked. With a slight twitch of her eyebrow, she dragged her eyes back to King Cole. "Aren't you studying to be the world greatest... I mean most royal... detective or something?" Perhaps the law would clean this up. But this looked weird, and intriguing. And Spore was, after all, training to be a superhero (probably).

Snakebite "All things do," said Cassandra. "To be honest, part of me will miss this place, but a greater part of me will not. I suppose I am one who finds stillness in movement, not movement in stillness." That sounded cool, she thought. Maybe the echoes of touching the cosmic wheel. "It is time to go. But perhaps, Professor, you could give me some letter. From you to your loved ones, so that I can pass on that you are safe and happy. Otherwise others will try to find you, and many may perish under the trials that guard this place." "And then, good Sirs, we can depart...."

Spore "It's SPORING TIME!" yelled Spore, as the purple-grey spores floated off her body and filled the air. It felt like tingling on her skin, with the occasional fleck of pain, like a scab being pulled off. Not exactly an agony, by any measure, but it wasn't a pleasure either. It wasn't something she would repeatedly do in the Claremont school yard just for kicks. Well, not every day anyway. King Cole she recognised, even with the fogged up head of the explosion. She gave her a wink. Everyone else? No... But maybe when her head didnt feel like a dozen smashed eggs. And when these goons fell asleep. At least, she hoped they would fall asleep...

Spore It was becoming almost a reflex - Harper was taking photographs of everything! Up went the camera, down went the finger, and she had clicked off three pictures of Daniel before she was even aware she was doing it. She forced herself to put the digital camera down. Thank God its digital! How many pictures had she taken already? More than old fashioned film could manage, that was for sure. "The Twins, right?" she added. "Psychic twins?" Do they share a connection? I heard they are never seen apart?

Snakebite "Whoooo...." Her hand left the wheel, but a part of her would always be on the wheel. "That was incredible," she said, eyes so wide Cassandra feared they might fall from her skull. After that experience, she feared they might not just fall, but sprout legs and arms, get married, and have a wedding. It was a pretty mind bending experience. Everything was possible. This, she thought, was a vision of infinity. And compared to infinity, anything was nothing. "I won't forget that in a hurry, or maybe I will. It was too... big... to fully hold in my head, but I will remember the taste of it. Forever..." She took a breath in, held it, and exhaled. "Professor, I can see why you wish to stay. But I cannot. These boots were made for walking, and they wont rest till every hidden corner of the earth has seen these soles..."

GM "King. Great. Well, I wish. Maybe I am, in some worlds, but I have been crushed under many feet and hooves, I can tell you," said the Rat, smirking despite its teeth. Its eyes blazed red for a moment. "I am called Vermin. You may call me Vermin. My real name, well, even I have forgotten that and frankly it is probably best forgotten. It comes from an ugly place,were words, and names, have power." Vermin scuttled down a wall and to the floor, staying away from the horrible waters. "Maybe I can help. Maybe I can't. Whats in it for me?" asked Vermin, tongue licking its lips. "And please dont say cheese..."

Pitch has detect infernal supersense (visual), so I imagine she is seeing a hellish fire or something

Pitch "Absolutely," said Pitch, cracking a shell of rocksalt into the chamber of her pump action shotgun. She didn't need a shotgun. At all. But it looked super cool. She gave a wink at Daniel. "Ready for action, ma'am! Lets go in and poke around." She turned her eyes to the church and squinted, eyes glowing red. Long experience of devilry and demonology... and having one in her stomach... these gave her insights beyond most mortals. She had learned to see the profane, even if it was hidden...

I like "Its Sporing Time!" btw. May well adopt