Supercape

GM Penny sighed, and took off her woolen hat. She pointed at her distinctly elven ears. "I'm an elf" she said, quite obviously. "Or half elf, to be more precise" "And this" she continued, holding up the Puzzle Box "is a gift from my father. The infinitely infinite puzzle box. It brought me here whenI was tamperi...playing with it" she said. "Which must mean that there is a puzzle to be solved. Which involves you. Dad wasn't exactly a hands on dad. He made this to keep me entertained" she explained. "I think its magical. It kind of feels magical" she said, pondering the question more than she had done. "I haven't actually had it tested in a magic-ometer, or magicoscope. Do you have one of those?" she asked Oz. "Thats why it brought me to you, I guess! Sort of! A bit! Maybeish!" she blustered. "And the nightmares I have been having" she added more softly, shuddering.

GM "Who are you?" said a rather surprised Ms. Penny Coin. "And I am not a scout" she added. "I am Penny. Penny Coin...don't laugh!" she added, with a wag of her finger. "I'm here to solve a puzzle. I think. Its not always that clear. Sometimes its puzzling!" she said, with a grin. She tried to look past Ozwald into the contents of his mysterious cottage. "So who are you then? You look like a wizard or something. Which figures. Thats exactly the sort of puzzle thats particularly puzzlin'!" She paused. "You...don't have anything to do with cheese, do you?"

Lament Should he trust a Raven? Especially one that claimed to be Odin's pet (was that true, or was the Raven possessed of some delusion of grandeur?) He had no way of knowing, but he fancied a bit of flattery might butter the bird up. "Of course oh mighty Raven of cognitive clandescance" he said, bowing deeply again. Bowing was an excellent idea, in Lament's estimation. Bowing deeply doubly so. He was very good at bowing. He lay the three maybe-tears on the ground for the Raven to examine, hoping the Raven did not snatch one away. "What say you? Does thy wisdom find solution to conundrum?"

GM Blowfish went flying towards the Sunny Sunshine building, and ended up flying through a sheet of plate glass which tinkled and shattered as his considerable weight flew through it. He lay in the reception, covered in broken glass, struggling to get up. "Ge...pfff...ge...pfff...get her, boys!" he snarled to his henchmen. They weren't so keen, but neither could they refuse Blowfish. Instead, four of his heavies retrreated into the building, holding up their pistols, and backing off. "You...you want us to shoot her? In front of the Camera's?" inquired one, who was trying to help Blowfish up. "Pff...pfff...Self-defence boys....you saw what she did...." puffed Blowfish, cut and bruised to say the least. But somehow, the pain was clearing his head, his tic subsiding. "SELF-DEFENCE!" he roared at the camera's. "Get me inside..." he hissed at his henchmen, who started dragging him into the interior of the Sunny Sunshine building. "Poetry" grunted the Wall. He looked at Justice. "Blood for blood. Thats Justice. You think the Law is going to protect illegal immigrants who cant scrape a coupla dimes together? Might slow him down, but thats all" he explained. "He only stops when he stops breathing" So determined, the Wall marched into the building, following Blowfish...

A clean hit Tough Save: 1d20+2 13 dazed & staggered! And, for that matter, knocked back: several dozen yards. Ill make him face another tough save as he gets knocked into the building he erected. Tough save vs kb: 1d20+1 13 vs DC 22, he just about avoids be knocked out, but is bruised.

ooc for this

GM Jan 21st It started (in a manner of speaking) in Emerald City More precisely, with a puff of smoke outside the cottage of the Great and Powerful Oz, master of the mercurial and magnificent. "Where the hell am I now?" groaned Ms. Penny Coin. She had a woolen hat on to cover her elven ears. She was otherwise dressed like a hipster, in a long sleeved t shirt and jeans, with cool sneakers. She was short, just under five foot, and slender, with big eyes and tussles of golden blonde hair. And she bit her lip with nerves and excitement. In her hand she held the Puzzle box. It was a cube of a few inches in each dimension. At least, to look at. It probably contained infinite expanses of the multiverse. It could twist and turn, expand and contract in many dimensions (not just your regular three). And it was a blessing and a curse from her father, the Witch-King of Elves. "Where have you taken me now? Stupid box" she moaned, although in truth she always liked adventure. "Open up! Open Sesame! Open Season! Shazam! Abracadabra!" she said to the door, knocking loudly. "There is a puzzle to be solved!"

Ronin "Thats not good, is it?" asked Ronin, rather redundantly, backing off. Give him a bomb, a solier, or a master of preying mantis king fu, and he would know what to do. He held his street special tightly. But he didn't think bullets, even the modified non-lethal kinetic catridges that the Street Special held, would do much against a liquid. Might cause ripples. The books however.... He flipped a switch on the street special, changing the firing barrel into an ignition chamber. The Dragons breath. The ammunition would explode in fiery light. "What do we do... burn the books? I mean, I like a good read, but seems to me the books are feeding this thing...."

Rev Rev died gleefully into the engine. This was where she was most at home. The rest of the world almost seemed to fade out. She loved the sight, the sounds, the smell. It was like a toy. A glorious, dirty, oily, toy. She felt like a kid playing in mud, without a care in the world. But there was a job to do underneath it all. And there were lives at steak. Even so, this felt more like a dull echo right now, something that was there, in the back back of her head, but muted. Like the volume had been dialled down. From her fingers popped a number of tools; a drill, a welder, a spanner. It was, in more senses that one, handy. Next to the engine she allowed a little of the mechaphage, that strange half alive bacterium that had transformed her, to flow into a welded small cylinder. Now, it was full of fuel and power. And then she threaded a line to below the steering wheel. "DO NOT PULL EXCEPT IN CASES OF EMERGENCIES. OR IF YOU JUST FEEL LIKE DRIVING REALLY REALLY FAST" she wrote on a note. Then, she attached it to the nozzle lever that she had placed there. "Enjoy!" she said to Dom.

As requested: 1. Diplomacy Roll Diplomacy: 1d20+3 19 2. History Roll History Roll: 1d20+15 21 3. What Snakebite will advocate doing to Neil. Anything but kill him, essentially. Lock him up, frame him forsomething and tell the police. Her mercy is limited and pragmatic. Its only kill him she doesn't want. Arguably something horrifically torturous would be off the menu. 4. What Snakebite will do with the rings. Take them to the British Museum, of course! She is an appropriator! 5. What Snakebite will do regarding the temple. However, this she feels is to dangerous. The temple is going to remain a mystery to the world, if she can help it. Also, for bonus one Theology and Philosophy roll! Knowledge The + Ph: 1d20+7 16

GM The Justice beam, connected with the Tommy Gun and there was a squarking sound of bent metal. Blowfish was so furious, his tic so completely out of control, that he pulled the trigger anyway. Click click clickity click... the Gun clicked away endlessly, its mechanism completely jammed. Blowfish hardly knew it, for his mind was still entirely imagining the hail of bullets firing out of his Tommy Gun and he simply wasn't registering reality. "Move" The Wall was behind Justice now. He did her the courtesy of asking her to move. "Blowfish made a fool of himself. Everyone knows it. Now, I gotta make sure he don't bounce back...make sure he pays...." explained the giant Mexican.

An easy hit, and Ill waive the toughness roll - the Tommy Gun is broken! EDIT: Also I will waive the HP cost for that feat, as it was suitably heroic.

Lament Hugin! And...the other one! Thought and Memory! Lament vaguely recalled the Norse myths. Not really his area of the expertise, he concentrated on all that African, South American, and Carribean mythology for his shows. But he knew Odin, at least. And two ravens, thought and memory. He had no idea who this one was. "Well then, Hugin, I beg pardon, and bow deeply!" he said, bowing deeply. At least Hugin seemed to have a sense of humour. It was hard to say for sure, through Raven vocal chords (such as they were). "I beseech your Raveness for help then, and so most humbly. Can you aide me? I wish to know which of these three vessels holds the Elf Kings Tears? And...." he added as an afterthought "...frankly, whether I should give them back to their rightful owner or not...."

GM Zip zipped off. He moved like a blur again, somehow able to distort time around him. It was fast, but of course Delta was faster, for he moved right to the power plant direct. It was glowing with a pale blue-purple energy, and it took only one breif moment to realise that Ether had converted it to produe Nihilus energy. It was hard to say whether he was feeding the power plant, or the otherway around. Probably both. Whatever the case, an almost ethereal band of fluctuating energy connected the two. He caught the teleport out of the corner of his eye, and spun around - but by then, Delta had activated his stealth field. "Plenty to feast for you here...." he called out, trying to spot (without success) the invisible Delta. "Come now....no need to be shy....I am happy to share this bounty with you!"

OK I will give Ether a DC 20 Notice check to spot you teleporting in (the point where you teleport in and switch array). I could argue for lower, as thats the penalty of having stealth out of an array, but he is distracted! Notice: 1d20+5 22 but bam, he spots you. Now, that means he spots you arrive, but he still can't sense where you are with the stealth field active! Lets play out what happens, but as you have the drop on him, you can have initiative (and he will be flat footed first round) when you decide to spring into combat.

GM And so... Navigating back to the Magic Mesa was easy enough; the Dust Devil had an uncanny "sense" of where the Mesa was. Whilst it was hot, and sweaty, and plagued by insects and the occassional dinosaur, the Dust Devil could guide them through the wild jungle easily enough. And so to with Mesa itself. A perilous cavern of tunnels through time and space for most, capable of eroding sanity, 'twas with uncanny precision that the Dust Devil could guide them through this wonderful and terrible place, back to the desert from which they had come. Of Mr Sting and Abdul there was no sign. Perhaps they had arrived earlier, perhaps they would arrive later. But Mr. Sting would eventually come to tend to his pet giant scorpions, whilst being tended to by Big Mama. And Abdul, his mind have gone, would drop out of university and teter on the tightrope between brilliance and insanity, writing half crazed books that would garner a cult following. And Setho.... Was he dead in ages past? Was he lost in time and space? Did the mad Lemurian have plans within plans? Schemes within schemes? Who can say, when he worshipped the dread and limitless enitity that extended beyond infinite time and infinite space. The UNSPEAKABLE ONE! ~ Fin ~

Snakebite Now the adrenaline, the anger, started to subside, the pain in her broken nose started to grow. As did the fatigue. Lemurian blood only sustained her for so long. And also, a sense of disgust. Could she really let Neil die? She might not be pulling the lever herself, but she was letting him fall to mob rule. She would love sleep over that. Not a lot of sleep, admittedly, but some sleep. "<Ida....I can't let you kill this man. He doesn't deserve to breathe, given what he is done, but if we succumb to vengeance, we bloody our own souls>" she said. She didn't reach for her gun. She wouldn't fight Ida, but she had to try persuading her.

GM The Wall did at least pause. As did the entire congretation. Jackson was entranced. This was drama beyond his wildest hopes. "This is Justice" said the Wall. "Blowfish ain't gonna stop. And right now, I can reach out and crush his skull like a watermelon" said the Wall, grinning at the thought. "You can try! I...pfff....pffff...pffff...gonna like the Spanish Inquisition on you, Mexican!" shouted Blowfish, putting up his fists almost reflexively, incadescent with fury, his cool quite lost. It didn't look like a fair fight though; Blowfish was an ex boxer, but compared to the thirty stone of the Wall, most of it apparently muscle, he would quite easily get his head squashed like a watermelon. "Get out the way, or I'll have to go through you" said the Wall. "And I don't want to go through you..." "Get out the way, or Ill shoot the both of you..." said Blowfish, picking up a tommy Gun from one of his bodyguards, intent on doing the deed himself.

GM Verily, 'twas a fair warning. And a puzzle he would most dearly like to solve before facing the Elf King who, he thought, was not entirely trustworthy. In fact, one could only trust him to be untrustworthy. Luther was hardly an expert on mythology but he knew enough to be suspicious, at best, of fae (at least, according to the stories...but where the stories trustworthy either? for this was the real deal now...) He shook himself free from such speculations. Right now, he had three possible regal tears, and needed to know which from which. And, he had a raven to help. Not the day he was expecting. "Lo, Good Raven!" he started. "What manner of bird are you that understands English so well? Are you some victim of curse? Some transmutated being? A prince or princess?" he asked. "Squark three times if I hit the nail on the head!"

GM In such turmoil the voice of leadership was welcome, and its directions doubly so. The laboratory technician scurried. "I'm a lover, not a fighter" said Lulu, more defiantly. "By which I mean I love my job, I love science, and I am quite partial to being alive" she said. "WEST agents aren't soliders. I'll help how I can, but I don't even have a WEST blaster to hand" she explained. And truthfully; WEST agents were trained to detect threats and not combat them. They only had basic combat experience. Zip shook his D-hopper. It was fizzing slightly, full of power but looking rather charred. "I'm not sure how much help this will be..." Lulu handed him her WEST scanner, which was the size of a tablet. "Try this..." Zip zipped through the screen, fast. There was no denying his crazy intelligence. "Looks like he is...absorbing...no....transforming....ASTRO labs power plant into Nihilus based energy. That's dangerous...and interesting!" he added. "Its located in the basement" explained Lulu, who has part of her job was well breifed on ASTRO labs. "Under heavy security..."

Lord Steam "By Vishnu! A cloak of invisibility!" Wait! An Omegadrone! Delta! Ah....yes, I recall the briefing from the Ministry of Extraordinary Affairs! Did he steal the Brit Machine? Lord Steam decided not to let on about his briefing. Someone called Delta, looking very muchlike this Delta, had dissapeared and taken Ms. Wells' Brit Machine with him. The details, however, where fuzzy. "Splendid, splendid. Well, stealth and scouting are all very well, indeed, but in themselves look a bit suspicious if caught, what what?" he said, cherrily, leaning on his cane elegantly. "Caution, however, is less inflamatory to the diplomatic art" he said, in agreement.

Lord Steam "Well this looks rather splendid, chaps!" said Lord Steam as the doorway opened. "The mouth of the beast opens!" He peered in. "What is inside? A cup of tea and a civilized chat? Or shall we be digested slowly over a thousand years?" Blakely came rushing back, carrying a hamper full of food. Cured meats, speciality breads, stuffed olives and an excellent selection of pickles. Plus, of course, some Gin and Tonic water. Practical provisions - at least, in Lord Steam's eyes. "Ah! Blakely. It seems we are now equipped for a bold adventure and come bearing gifts. Fine food and wine. Well, at least what we can rustle up in short notice...!" he said, rather pleased with how the day was turning out. It was exceptional, even by Freedom City standards. "RIgh then folks!" he said, twirling his cane. "Shall we proceed? Once more unto the breach!"

GM As it happened, no bomb exploded. No dimensions were sundered. Time was not splintered. vvvvvzzzzzzipp! "Not here again!" groaned Zip, as they hit the most silly animal universe. "Why guess what we got a-here?" said a bear in a cape, whilst an aardvark in a mask sniffed the air. "Why don't you go to the woods and take a..." started the very angry ASTRO scientist, before he was rudely cut of from his rudeness by... vvvvvzzzzzzipp! "Where the hell is this?" cried Lulu. A clown on a unicycle cycled past, juggling brightly coloured bats. "Clown-verse! It really is hell!" sighed Zip. vvvvvzzzzzzipp! And they were back at the ASTRO labs. The poor ASTRO tech cried in relief, but not for long. For the place was a mess. Unconscious scientists - possibly worse than unconscious - lay littered around, and the machinery was dust. ".....this is your home. I am sure of it! Except...uh....oh oh...." mumbled Zip. He stopped speaking and showed Delta his readout on the D-Hopper. It was Nihilus energy. A particular type of Nihilius energy. A particular type of dimensional signature. Professor Ether had arrived back on Earth Prime before them.

Mr. Murk And the Murkman “I have for seen this moment!” Said Mr. Murk and the Murkman, simultaneously. Now, given that various duplicates of this person and that had been popping up all over Freedom City and beyond, it was a reasonable thing to say for anybody. But it so happened that both Mr. Murk and the Murkman had the power of foresight. They could literally see into the future. But, as their respective names suggested, the future was murky unclear and obscure. This moment, however, full of strange eldritch portent, shone out like a beacon in the fog. The Murkman was just as blind as Mr. Murk. However, he was a human in a world of Neathanderthal men, a strange evolutionary quirk. He possessed all the genetic strangeness that one might imagine; lacking the physical strength and robust build of his fellows, he had instead a unnaturally sharp mind, spinning and dancing with ideas and creativity. They had met in Freedom City park, under the moonlight, for both shared the uncanny connection with the Murk, a gloomy archaic dimension that existed under the realms, but never where sunlight shone. Both had wrapped their skin with this strange shadow, appearing as simple, unremarkable men in simple, unremarkable clothes. Perhaps the Murkman, being human, needed no such disguise – for here he was but a blind man with milky white eyes. But, force of habit was a strong thing, and especially so for these immortals who had lived a hundred thousand years between them. And now they recognised each other on site, and spoke the same words at the same time. Followed by a little chuckle. Then, the world fell apart around them. In such strange times, with the fractures of reality splintering and sundering the world, this might be taken literally. But no, it was not the end of the world, not yet. Mr Murk and the Murkman had taken the same decision. This meeting was not best suited to the mundane world (although mundane was a poor description of the current state of affairs anywhere, and more so when one considered they were living in Freedom City). There were prying eyes and noise, lights, people. No, this meeting, this conversation, was best had in the Murk. The Murk was as the Murk always was. Grey, dim, and archaic. There was the sound of flies, who seemed quite at home moving in and out of this dimension, and indeed seemed to thrive on it. Here, all life and colour drained and only a skilled navigator could stay long, lest all zest be pulled from their soul. Every now and again, one could find the motionless half alive corpse of some astral wanderer who had succumbed to total apathy. Fortunately Mr Murk and the Murkman were quite used to this dimension, they stood like torches in the darkness. Around them, the echo of the world they had left behind. A bleached, empty and crumbling echo. The paving stones cracked to dust, the trees petrified and dead, the wooden benches rotten and old. “Well met by moonlight” bowed the Murkman. “I do not know what strange gravity your world is holding over others, but it has pulled me here. And I am not alone…” “It is ill portent” replied Mr. Murk. “A taste of what to come. Times will grow desperate, and the different worlds will be as one. This, I have seen, although as always, the future is obscure” “Always” replied his counterpart. “And yet this will happen. The collapse of all futures into one. And then….” “Who knows? Not I” “Nor I” They both felt the gloom reach a bit further under their skin. But neither shuddered, for the Murk, despite all its bleak character, was not cold. “My home is full of your race, and yours full of mine” commented the Murkman, his face alive with the ironic humour and pain of the situation. “Perhaps we should have been born in each other’s world”. “Then maybe we would not have been born at all” said Mr. Murk. “Perhaps it is that cruelty that has driven us to these gifts, such as they are…” “Or these gifts drove us to such cruel fates. I do not see time as an arrow piercing the cosmos in a straight line” “Nor do I, nor do I” agreed Mr. Murk. “And as much horror as I have seen, I do not resent the way things are, have been, or shall be” he continued, boldly. “It has taught me to value love above all. It is the fire of life” “Alas that it burns us so. I would say Kindness is, but it is but a subtle shade different to Love” On that, they had no disagreement. “How then, does a human fit in with my kind?” asked Mr. Murk, genuinely curious. He had lived fifty thousand years and this was a genuinely new experience. It seemed he was getting more and more of them recently. “Not well, but it could be worse” laughed the Murkman. “I clothe myself in the murk when I can. The sun is not often seen by me. But, from what I can see, I have it easier than you. My world is full of forests and wood, we tend to art more than industry, stories more than science. It cannot be more than a tenth of your population, and wild expanses of untamed land flow from east to west, and west to east. It is a world of nature, and yours, it seems, is a world of steel” “With all that steel brings. Relief from pain, and the means to inflict it” replied Mr Murk, a blend of sourness and gratitude. “For everything we lose, we gain” “You sound like you like this world well, despite everything” said the Murkman. “I do. For I am woven into it. Perhaps then, even if we could exchange places, we would not choose to do so” “I think we would not” said the Murkman. “For all that is ill fortune, much is blessed, and like you, I am woven into the story of mine own world” The two immortals nodded to each other in respect and stood there, in the gloomy dimension, pondering what immortal oracles do. And one can only ponder what they might ponder. But nothing lasts forever, even immortals considering infinity and beyond in a silent and shadowy dimension. After much contemplation, the sun started to shine, and the gloom started to melt away, replaced by the world proper. Or in this case, two worlds proper. For a moment, Mr. Murk looked upon the world of the Murkman. It was as his counterpart had said, rich and vibrant. Tall trees, green and noble, with wooden buildings that seemed to grown as much as be built. Neanderthal man and woman went about daily business, dressed in splendid home woven clothes, smiling, loving, cooking, weaving. And, yes, conducting arts and crafts, drama and poetry. In the distance, proud mountains stood, capped in crisp white, and dawn sprang through them. And the Murkman began to fade. “My world, which now pulls me back. Do not lament overly much. The grass, as they say, is always greener on the other side” “Ah, I lament a little” sighed Mr. Murk. “It is beautiful, and tis wisest to see beauty in all things, even if only for a moment” And with that, he was in Freedom City Park, the dawn slicing away the residual Murk. He clothed himself in its remnants, but only for minutes. Then, he would be naked once more, that strange aberration, the last of Homo Nandethalensis. But, as he scurried away to his limousine, with blacked out windows, he felt just a little bit less alone.

Sgt Shark The Sarge would have preferred a stealthy approach, but frankly, it was all he could do to contain himself right now. He clamped his jaws shut, feeling the powerful muscles tighten. Still, there was biting to be done, it seemed. "Take cover..." he hissed. He was sure they could take pretty much anything underwater. And certainly hand to hand. But over confidence was a flaw that had to be beaten out of every soldier. Besides, if these aliens could control minds, they might have any number of long range weapons that would give them an edge. "...they may start shooting!" Oh how his brain was alive with smells and blood! He could barely think straight, let alone talking. He didn't know if he wanted to sniff the Sea Devil again, or if he really wanted to. Both options appealed and frightened. So he swam behind the nearest rock. For all the good it would do.