Supercape

GM The man walked in, fast. He was trying to keep his cool, but he clenched and unclenched his fists in a most agitated manner. He was not cool. He wasn't agressive though, just...frustrated. He ignored the mess. He clearly had other things on his mind. "Cruz, I presume. I'm Tyrone Winchester" he said, introducing himself with a well eloctued American accent. "I got a problem, and everybody else is too drunk, too stupid, or too lazy to help me with my problem" he said, falling into the chair and pressing his hands together, hard. "And I got till Christmas day to sort it out. So if you can sort it out, Ill pay you. A lot" he said. It sounded like he wasn't best pleased with paying anybody anything, let alone a lot. It sounded like it wasn't his nature. But, on the other hand, he sounded like he was in a jam, and he needed to get out of a jam. Badly. "Someone's blackmailing me" he said. "I need to know why, I need to know how. And I need to have it stopped. And a bonus if you stop them hard..." he said, unambigiously clenching his fists.

OOC for this

GM Saturday 22nd Dec, late evening We wish you a merry S**tmas, we wish you a merry s**tmas, we wish you a merry sh*tmas, and a $£%!ing new year! Yes, it was that glorious time of year in Bedlam, when the drunks prowled the streets spreading violence and badwill to all men. And women. And dogs. Of course, some people tried to celebrate it, but cynicism knew no bounds in Bedlam, and Ms. Caroline Cruz could hear a bunch of louts singing outside. Drunk. She knew drunk, of course. She knew it very well indeed. But that was not her concern right now, for she heard some banging on the door. "CRUZ! CRUZ! ARE YOU IN THERE? ARE YOU IN THERE?" It was not an unfriendly voice, but not friendly either. It was a low, panicked and desperate voice. And it belonged to a man in an overcoat, gloves, and hat. Dark skinned, darked hair, moustache, thick rimmed glasses. Slightly rotund around the girth but one would not call him fat. He was of average build and not blessed with good looks, but one would say he was well dressed. Rich, even. And of course Rich people had money. Money to spend on investigators. Even at this time of the evening.

Lament "Grendel's mother! Then, O great King, we have it!" said Lament quite uncertain whether they had it at all, but quite certain that it was a good idea to appear certain. "Now, all we must do is locate this theiving thief who has mastered thievery!" he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. Despite the stakes, he was rather enjoying this most novel of experiences! "Where, do you think, oh wise King whose widsom is mose wisery, do you think this scoundrel would be found? I promise to determine the truth of the matter, and rectify the insult! For I do not merely do this for the children, King! No! Even if you had not stolen - ah - in response to being stole from, then I would gladly help you, for to live without tears is grevious and ugly a wound!"

GM "Amber? I don't know" said the Wall. "Maybe in a gutter. Maybe in a bar. Maybe singing in a club. Could be cut in lots of pieces and buried in Mexico..." "If she knows dirt on Blowfish, then she is keeping a low profile. If she is sensible" commented Kidd. "Or, maybe Blowfish is paying her to stay low. Might make sense, and he always was soft on her..." "....but we better keep this quiet. If Blowfish does find out she talked, then she might as well be buried in Mexico. Some parts of her, anyway..." Both the Wall and Kidd grunted at this. Blowfish might have been cunning, he might have several stategies and tactics. But it was clear that fear, intimidation and sheer brutality was certainly on his menu.

GM "Ah! A scientist!" replied Mr. Goose knowingly. "Well, I suppose the poor little fellow, being so diminished in his physical nature, might well devote his energy to intellectual development" he pondered. "Veritably, better than the other way around!" mocked Zip. The walk was relatively short at their brisk pace, and soon they were at the Institute which was really rather splendid. Copper and brass pipes conveyed steam and parcels from one building to another in a feat of wondrous engineering. They went to the main building, where, it seemed, luncheon was being served. "May I help you?" said the attendant in the hall, dressed in black tie, slicked back hair, and an attitude that he was quite uncertain about whether he desired to help this riff raff at all. "Why, my good man, I am Mr. Arthur Goose, member of the Etonian Amateur Engineering Society" said Mr. Goose quite proudly. "I would like, if I may be so bold, to take advantage of my annual luncheon at the institute, and mayhap have words and discourse with some of the good Professors during our meal!" The attendant raised an eyebrow. "We do have a dress code, Sir..." he said, eyeing up Agent Lulu, the ASTRO scientist, Delta, and Zip....

I'm going to suggest a scene cut to next day unless you want to play out the conversation more. If that works perhaps a gather info roll? We can cut to the singer's haunt

GM "Ah yes! Serving King and Country, what what!" said Mr. Goose with a smile. Even if his wife seemed impressed. This Greenwich park had, like most alternate realities, differences - albeit in this case, minor ones. The observatory of Earth Prime was bigger, bolder, and dominant. It was, in this reality, the Institute of Metaphysical Engineering. A massive institution of brick and marble, with several smaller buildings on the outskirts. It was more like a tiny university than a building. And splendid architecture, too! "I am most pleased to hear of your valiant efforts, Sir!" said Mrs. Esmeralda Goose, now quite taken with Delta. "Fickle!" muttered Zip under his breath. "Let us to the Institute go!" declared a rather spiffy and cheerful Mr. Goose, setting off at a pace that seemed to, admirably, be both brisk and relaxed. "And please, your companions may join. Even the little dwarf fellow! What is that helmet, Sir? I pray it does not mask some hideous deformity?" Zip seethed. "No, Sir, Just the enormousness of my enormous brain!" he said. "I...see...." said Mr. Goose, before sidling up to Delta as they walked. "Curious little fellow you have there...what's his story?" he asked, a little concerned, a little suspicious.

Snakebite FIre would be a problem. But it wasn't the most pressing problem. The Earth kept spinning, and the moon would fade. And if that happened, as far as she could see, they were done for. There was a beating of her heart and a cold panic in her lungs. Like every heartbeat was a clock counting down the seconds till doom. But despite this, she ran. Perhaps, because of this, she ran. Legs fueled by desperation. "<Then we need the herbs. The potion. Back to the village! Let us regroup there!>"

GM "Hmph! So you say!" blubbered an incredulous Zip. "Lets have the discussion after you invent a dimensional hopper belt. Or, for that matter, a microwave biscuit. Which I have" he said, proudly. "What the hell is a Microwave biscuit?" demanded Agent Lulu. "Language!" said the wife, shocked. "You shall never know its mysteries!" answered Zip to Lulu. "What is a microwave biscuit? Alas...you shall never know, Madam!" Mr Goose, Esq, did not pay attention to such babble. He was attending to Delta. "Alas, sir, I do not. I am a Lawyer, not a scientist. And certainly not of the calibre of those fine gentlemen of the institute!" he said. "Although I do walk in their social circles. But my, you seem rather versed in science for a war veteran...mayhap you served on a Turing Battleship? But I must not pry, fascinating as you are, Sir. Please, allow me to assist. The name of Goose still has some weight, thanks to both profession and stock. And dare I say it, wealth!" he said proudly, putting his hands in his lapels. His wife rolled her eyes again. She really was an expert at it. "May you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the Instituete, sir?" he asked Delta. "'Tis a pleasant stroll through Greenwich park, just over yonder...!" Mr. Arthur Goose pointed across the park (Which was indeed Greenwich Park) to the magnificent building at the top of the hill.

GM "What, did you spend twenty years studying interdimensional quantum realities? I think not!" said Zip, rather inignant. "No, sir! You shall not! Last time I handed it over, it was a veritable disaster! It was...." He paused, and looked around. "Why, it was here! Some professor at the Institute of Metaphyisical Engineering! Professor Phineas Blakewell, if I recall correctly - and, when you are as smart as I am, recalling correctly is something you can certainly count on!" he said, pointing his gloved two fingered hands towards his temples. "Goodness me, what a monstrosity!" said the wife (or presumably wife) of the gentleman with the steampunk spectacles, pointing at Delta. "Can't they do anything? Quite horrid!" "Nonsense, woman!" replied the keen eyed gentleman. "I understand it is all the rage in Oxford! Metal flesh! Steam powered limbs! Why, it would revolutionise our treatment of war veterans!" he said. "I suppose so..." said the wife, bringing out a fan and fanning herself, her eyes rolling. "But it is still rather horrid!" "Sir!" said the Gentleman. "Mr Arthur Goose, at your service! May I ask....are you from Oxford?" he asked Delta, politely. "Oh never mind me...." grumped Zip, less than pleased to be of secondary interest.

GM There was a loud crunching noise as Captain Cosmos hit the ground. And an explosion of dust and rubble. Far off, they could hear the grind of failing metal, and something collapsed. Zip was furiously fiddling with his arm band. "Ive just got recalibrate the science!" he declared. Captain Cosmos could be seen getting up, wobbling. "Zip! I'm dying! Its coll---" vvvvzzzzziiip! And they landed in a graveyard. Around them, the groans of living corpses....everywhere! "Bit dead round here!" commented Zip as he fiddled again, and the living dead starting closing in on them. vvvvzzzzziiip! "Why hel-hel-hello folks!" said a rabbit dressing a mask, his chest puffed out, his hands on his hip. "What..I say whats up folks?" By his feet, a mouse in a cape and a mask adopted the same pose. "Welcome to ani---" "This place is very silly!" interrupted Zip, punching his dimension hopper once again. vvvvzzzzziiip! London, full of smog. Giant Zepplins flew through the air, and the smell of the industrial revolution was left, right, and centre. They were by a park, and gentlemen and gentlewoman (As well as very children) took casual and elegant strolls, although they did most certainly stop and stare. One took up a brass pair of goggles, which hooted and whistled, and let of some steam. "By Vishnu! What a curious spectacle! Have those fellows at the Institute of Metaphysical Engineering being playing silly sausages again?" he declared. "This place is less silly. Almost" explained Zip. "Earth Victoriana. And...I am out of power...." he sad, irritated with himself. "Something interrupted the flow of dimensional space-time information. My guess would be those...ah....silly sausages at the Institute of Metaphysical Engineering...."

Flight: 1d20+6 7 bang. He is down. Post away!

It is indeed, with of course the normal option of applying extra effort for +2 (and an HP to reroll)..or both!

Yes indeed! in fact, I dont think that needs an HP, we can say the TK is opposed to his flight. Could you make a power roll?

GM "Why no...it recharges in just a few days!" said Zip, proudly. From the horizon, there was the sound of thunder. No! A sonic boom. Something in a blue and white cape and costume was hurtling towards them at phenomenal speed. "ZIP! I'LL STOP YOU THIS TIME!" it roared from the distance. Although the super-hero - or super villian (or some such permutation) that has screamed through the air on his (or her - one couldnt see from this distance) was moving at such a speed it would be not long before he was standing in front of them. Or worse. "Or a few seconds, if one is being bold!" stuttered Zip, frightened. "That fool is some idiot called Captain Cosmos. Not from my reality. Very stupid. And quite insane..." he added. "And rather intent on killing me. And probably you, by extention!" he added again...

Ronin Ronin crept through the door, his Street Special gripped in hands. Not too tightly, but not to limply either. He had built it, and he knew how to use it, and how to handle it. And he had had his ass kicked by Yoshie so many times as a kid, he wasn't going to let any two bit thug disarm him. Although he rather feared that it wasn't going to be a two-bit thug in the factory. "Easy...easy...." he whispered in the factory. The thing was, they couldn't take too long. DIstractions had a time limit. Sooner or later the guards would come back. It felt like a balancing act - the need for speed vs the need for caution. One could only hope to take a middle line and hope for the best. He was no stranger to serious danger. He was no stranger to his life being in the hands of cosmic dice. But still, the adrenaline kicked in and the sweat flowed. Even if it did, he remained as frosty as snow....

Rev Lexa tagged along with Sofia and Dom, and prepared to get her hands dirty. Oily, greasy, and dirty, just the way she loved them. Of course, she gave her hands and arms and legs (for that matter) a quick spray with SFX's synth-skin concealer first. There! As good as new! her limbs once again looked human. Unless one looked really close! Lexa tried to be proud of who she was, but still, she was glad that she didn't get stared at by everybody. Unfortunately, no fresh pair of shoes. It was hardly as if being barefoot (given her feet were steel now wrapped in synthetic plastic) was problematic, but it certainly odd looking. "Say, you got any spare shoes?" she asked Sofia, as he peered over her shoulder to look at the Engine of Letty. "I can help, if you would like. I'm pretty good with motors!"

Edited, TA Thanks for update / edits. Could you amend Laments Reflex to +9 (+2 Dex, +7) just to keep track (the edit above was wrong in that it indicated 1 PP spend to increase it to +10 when it actualy adds up to +9). Or, if you fancy editting so he spends a spare PP, change it to +10 (+2 Dex, +8)

Lets have Rev go to the racing! (D&S) If its of any value or pertinence, Rev will aid in mechanical repairs (taking 10 to give the aid bonus)

GM "An independent mind is a fine thing indeed!" replied Zip. "And I am most pleased to hear you fight against Lord Omega, who is just as reprehensible as Collapse" he said. "But you must understand, sir, that the Time Bomb I am devising...well, bomb can sound so ugly!" He flexed his four fingers and two thumbs (with prostigious cracking of knuckles under his gloves), and proceed to use them to animate his explanation. "If you imagine that Collapse gains strength with every dimension he forces together, my genius has invented the Time Bomb! Which forces dimensions apart again! It is, I can understand you thinking, a brute force, and you would not be entirely wrong. But it is designed to uncollapse dimensions. Putting things back to their natural order, so to speak!" he said, proudly. "But as for the dimension hopper, no. I simply wont hand it over to a stranger! But neither will I leave you in the lurch, sir! No! My conscience will simply not allow it! Come then, let us be on our merry way..." He reached to his belt and pressed a button. "Hmm....that normally works...." he muttered. The belt fizzed a little. "Ah...that looks like someth---" vvvvzzzzziiip! They stood in the middle of an apocalyptic Freedom CIty. Orange hellish clouds thundered overhead, the buildings were in ruins, and the broken wreckage of war was all around them. "Oh dear...this doesn't look like home for either of us, I wager. Dear me...not at all...." muttered Zip, putting on his helmet....

Stealth: 1d20+12 15

Awarding an HP as a complication for being a Terminus / Drone type creature, arousing suspicion. Delta - 4 HP

GM "Ah...interesting!" said Zip, stroking his chin, his eyes widening. "You do, do you? I wonder how come! Few indeed dare experiment with Nihilus enegy. Usually it is Lord Omega or his drones...." He said the last words pointedly. "Are you a drone? If so, I may need more than a Killbot...although...." to mitigate his suspicion he looked at Agent Lulu and the ASTRO scientist. "You do at least travel with humans..." "Now....this being so, I am not so sure I should hand my dimensional hopper over to you. It is the only way off this rock, and it would be quite a feat of trust to hand it over so blindly! Especially to a...well....what exactly are you? what Terminus taint to do you carry?"

I think the priority is getting the ceremony done by the end of the night - so checking up on the herb concoction?