Supercape

GM Oct 6th, Down South! On a dusty road, in a dusty desert, full of desert heat... Venomax was looking into poisons, toxins, and chemicals. And rumour had it, down here, in this strange remote landscape, there was some might fine poisons, of the toxic variety. And toxins of the poisonous variety. Scorpions! Venomax was entering the "town" of Littlebig Rock. It was hardly a town, more a collection of dusty buildings on a dusty road. But here, some old doctor lived, purpotedly proposing that the scorpions and toxins of this little old area of the world where the worst in the world? Was he right? He was drinking and smoking the day away just outside his home. Venomax could see him outside, drinking, and smoking. A thin leathery man, with dark wrinkled skin, dressed half like a cowboy, half like a shaman, and half like a gentleman. And probably half like something completely different. The sign above the door proclaimed this to be a dentists, for Doctor "Teeth" Whitefish as indeed a dentist. Or at least proclaimed to be.

GM "Hey, thats fine with me. Im a scientist. A field scientist. But even a field scientist is not a soldier. And it doesn't look like we are going to get any cavalry soon..." With a bit of wrangling, and cajouling, the spy and the police officer were persuaded or forced to agree it was the only, or at least the best, solution. Turning back to the Scarab, a relieved looking agent Fields expressed her thanks. "You got my thumbs up. And my gratitude. But please be careful, if not for yourself, then for the residents of Cairo. We literally have no idea what a corrupted Daka Crystal might do. Well...we do have an idea. It just doesn't really bear thinking about. I don't want the city levelled..." she added, nervously. "If you need any help, let me know..il stay in radio contact if I see any abnormal readings!"

GM As surprising as the formatio of the Dust Devil Was, the group of bohemians response was rather muted. Of the five of them, one appeared in a trance, one appeared unconscious, one stood up and declared himself Lord Emporer of Dune (giving a salute), his eyes fixed in the distance, and one of them mumbled something about "see...told you...I saw him coming!" to the others, her head down, studying her shoes. The last one, a rarther portly woman wearing black tie (and bow tie), with a big grin on her face, seemed more with it than her four friends. "What! Who are you! Whelp! Abdul is at the Mesa!" she blubbered, before putting her hand over her mouth. The band, engrossed in their music, kept playing. A peppering of gasps came from the dozen other audience members.

GM With masonry this old, seeping into the Yellow Sign was easy. There where almost too many choices! With no particular clue as to which one would be better, or worse, the Dust Devil chose one and seeped in. And ended up... In the lavatories! Well, aside for the ignobility of entrance, and the faint whiff of unpleasant aroma, it was a boon. For said toilets where currently unoccupied, and poorly lit anyway. And if he felt the call of nature, from excitement or anxiety (or just the ebb and flow of biological parameter) well, he had certainly come to the right place - for as fortune had it, they appeared to be the gentleman's. The Dust Devil could hear the sound of slow and sexy Jazz coming from nearby. There was the faintest sound of conversation. He guessed that the stage was nearby, possibly even next door. Peeking through the door, his suspicion was confirmed! The stage was on the other side of the door, but fortunately nobody was looking - they were captivated by Jazz! The audience was not large, maybe a dozen, maybe two dozen. A mixed bag of bohemians. And a small group of rich kids dressed like Bohemians, all looking rather dazed and confused, and almost hypnotised...

GM And so, in the evening, same Dust- day, same Dust - channel... The merely magnificent dust devil flew over head on a dark, overcast autumn night, with only a pale hint of moon to be seen in the sky. Below him, the Yellow Sign! 'Twas an old brick building, crumbling, speaking of dust and history, not well advertised, not well lit, not well attended, by the looks of things. From what the Dust Devil had gathered, it was a small Jazz bar, serving drinks, with a reputation for musicians that liked drinks. A lot of drinks. Tonight some minimalist three piece (Drums, Bass, Sax) was playing some slow, melancholic style. The Yellow Sign had a bit of reputation for exlcusivity, turning its crumbling architecture into a pull. Lots of rumours and stories about its histories, from ghosts to mafia hideouts. Even some stories about sorcerous pirates! as if...

GM "Steal? What do you mean! It's mine...I mean ours...in the first place!" "Ill be sure to tell Abdul! We need...we want that leaf!" he half-shouted, angrily. He tried to get up to his feet. Too fast. He slumped onto his backside again. He tried again, more slowly this time, and whilst he was unsteady he did manage to stand up reasonably straight and stagger off, mumbling something about the Snake Gods and the Queens of Tomorrow. Gibberish, surely. "Well, I guess that's the mix up" sighed Amy. "I bet Adbul's pretty livid about a recieving a dozen dried noodles" she laughed. "Look, I am sure they can do this legally, but they sound pretty desperate for that leaf and tried to do it without the fuss. Maybe he thought some intimidation or money would get it back fast" she wondered. "What do you want to do about it? I don't want you getting in any more hot water. Although I'm glad you socked him one rather than he socked me!"

GM "More than potentially. Probably, I would say!" replied Agent Fields, feeling smart by association. As she pointed out a few more interesting bits of data (after all, who could not resist the fascinating demonstration of metaobservational wave collapse in hyperalligned molecular isomorphism?) the tall Egyptian man - the intelligence officer - piped up. "You mean somebody has powered themselves with the crystal! Why, how interesting! The potential for weaponisation is....considerable!" he said keenly. "It is an abomination, by Allah! Man is God's cretaion and it is not for Man to change himself!" spat out the fat police officer who, despite his considerable corruption, appeared to have cherry picked certain parts of scripture to give himself the joy of righteousness. Fields turned to the Scarab. "Honestly, I am glad you are here. I have my hands full sorting out these two here!" she sighed. "We really can't let a Daka crystal, a corrupted Daka crystal, fall into the wrong hands. Officially, the Egyptian government has signed a declaration of coorperation with the UN on this matter, but unofficially, we have to work on the ground, with different persons with differing agenda's..."

Mr. Murk "Ah yes. Morgen. She is an strange woman, young and old. Quite...fierce...." said Mr. Murk, pondering her. "I see visions of her in the future, which indicates I think she will exert her will on the cosmos. And quite a will it is, I think. Not anybody has the strength of will to burn out their own eye. I wonder..." "Nevertheless, it seems she has immortality now, of a sort. I am not quite sure what sort either. She can clearly hibernate for centuries, and seems to have aged not a day. She so desperately needs some sanctuary in this modern world, and I am pondering inviting her to sign the Codus. But something tells me she will not be bound by any oath or law" "I would value your assessment on this matter, my friends. Invitation is not an easy thing, for every time it is offered, it runs the risk of the club exposing itself to the wider world which, for now at least, would defeat its purpose of sanctuary" "As for Doctor Sin, that is another matter again. I daresay he has engineered his defeat in some way and is playing a long game. Do you have opinion on this?"

GM It was a fair conclusion, but the Rat did wonder if Neisha was turning speculation into fact. Conflating the two. Thinking too rigid could get you killed. "Thank you very much for all your help" she said, politely. "We'll be sure to do whatever we can. Right?" she gave a nod at the other heroes there. She didnt really know them. But she guessed by the end of the night, she would know them a whole lot better. She turned to Venomax and Akhona. "Well, this is a strange situation. I can't work out if we are given a blank slate to work with, or no slate at all. Or perhaps both" she said, laying on the enigma heavily. "I can handle myself in a fight. Up to a point. But really, you can best think of me as a spy!" she said, hand on hip, green eyes flashing. I pretty much AM a spy. But sometimes honesty is the best way to lie! "I can go undercover inside. Probably the best. Or, I could just hover outside in the Ratcopter, my super secret spy vehicle!" she said brightly! It was not a bad idea. The Ratcopter did have a whole array of snooping technology!

Rev "Hey Fax! We ain't doing to bad even in this junk!" yelled Rev at Fascimile, as she took another corner at almost too fast a pace. She was sweating. Part of the bane, or boon, of having only about half of your body mass flesh and bone was that any hormones secreted in her body were twice as concentrated. At least initially (until homeostasis kicked in). Adrenaline rushes spiked hard. And she loved it. "Now...if we are gonna win....we better fire the hyperturbine boosters. You did bring the hyperturbine boosters, right?" she yelled at Fax, as a tease. She had no idea what hyperturbnine boosters were. But they sure sounded cool. Now she said it, she wished she actually had some. Might get up a space or two in the rankings!

Rev couldnt make that with a nat 20!

GM In the blink of a cybernetic eye, Replica was searching the internet. Red Dawn. It was of course a term used all over the place, and a particularly common one in various conspiracy websites. A Martian Invasion. A Communist Plot. A killer virus. Even a theory that the world was being saved by humans from the far future, when Sol had turned into a red giant star. It was a mess of references and counter references, and it would take weeks to sort anything coherent out, even at artificial brain speeds. Perhaps nothing ever could be sorted out. But there was one thing Replica noticed when cross referencing terms. There was absolutely no reference, anywhere, of mother board and red dawn. Which suggested someone had written the two terms out of the internet...or more precisely, had ensured that the two terms never came up together.

GM "Sure, I can watch him" replied Amy. "And maybe i might just clean my boot on his face. By accident" she said, winking with her one eye at an angle that the socialite could not see. It took a bit of time, with more mumblings from said socialite, and Amy shaking his f ist at him whenever he did, but searching through the crates and packages, together they found the misplaced item. Wrapped up in cellaphane was a most peculiar leaf. Coloured purple and yellow, thin and slim and very long, unlike any plant either of them had seen. "Thats it! Give it here and we can forget this ever happened!" suggested the socialite, eyes glinting.

GM "Abdul? Sure...he hands a round a jazz bar called the the Yellow Horn. S'where we hang out. The smokehead club. Abdul set it up..." His head began to clear and in doing so home started to stop his tongue from wagging so freely. "Not that you would be welcome... you little guttersnipe! It's not really your class is it?"

GM The rich kid started mumbling again. It was impossible to tell if his brain was misfiring from drugs or the solid right hook Cassidy had given him. Either way, he was rambling and in the midst of his ramblings were some clues! "Abdul found the leaf. Makes your head swim. Through space and time. Whistling flutes. Yellow sigbs. The turk rises in the east. The Red Dawn in the West. Yeah...turns your body and mind to cosmic smoke! We are going to transcend the universe! Abdul found it....majors in philosophy and he knows his stuff..."

GM Even without magic super powers, Cassidy was a strong fellow (as Amy could testify!) the Rich Kid almost lifted off his feet, and landed on his backside, completely stunned. "Wha-wha-what-what happened?" he mumbled, his eyes operating independently and his mouth even more lax than normal. A moment or two passed until he became at least semi-coherent, whilst still completely beat, physically. "You hit me! How dare you! I'm going to make sure you pay for that! I hope you have a good lawyer!" he said, humiliated. "Self - defence, right, Cassidy? You got me as a witness. And, from the sounds of it...you don't really want an investigation" said Amy, bluntly, rather pleased with the situation and completely sticking up for Cassidy even if she was (literally) blind sided to the action. "Nuu-nuuh---noooo...." mumbled the rich kid, cautious now. "But we are going to get the leaf, one way or another!" he said, brain to dazed for subtle thought.

In fact, STR 18! (Nice to have such a high natural STR, and sorry for missing it!) Dust Devil - 3 HP Tough Save: 1d20+1 11 down he goes! Move out of combat, as essentially he is beat!

Cool! Just to be clear you have two choices here: 1. Not using superpowers (STR 14) and gaining an HP for complication or 2. Using superpowers but keeping it relatively non-lethal / obvious. Let me know!

GM The soldier on the ground stumbled to the left, and stumbled to the right, but essentially he was out of options. Disarmed, battered, and alone, and facing Replica who was much stronger, he was soon pushed to the side and cuffed. The helicopter did not stay. Its mission was failed, regretably, and it started peeling off into the sky... In the distance, Replica could hear North and agent Simmons running (and somewhat out of breath) calling her. Being a bit out of breath, of course, meant that it was a rather gasped call! "What happened, are you alright?" summised North fron fifty feet away, yelling as loud as his burning lungs could let him.

No, thats fine, lets waive that! Combat over! (Unless you wish to fire an RPG at the helicopter retreating!)

That certainly hits, and he cannot match that toughness save - but before I post IC that is using your full super strength which will knock him fifty feet across the room! Given super secret ID do you want to use that? (if not, earn an HP for complication).

GM "Data? What are you, a scientist?" As it happens, the Scarab was! Even standing in the middle of the street, with Agent Fields giving he, on a small hand held scanner, the data she had collected so far, was enough to demonatrate that the Scarab was not just a scientist, but a very good one! The data did confirm her suspicions - as far as she could tell. Daka weaponry, the Corrupted Daka Crystal and...wait! Some other type of Daka reading! Something biological! The corupted daka crytsal had empowered a human! (well probably a human. It might have been a dog, or a goat. But something biological for certain!) "That reading there!" pointed out Agent Fields. "I can't work out that one for the life of me!"

Mr Murk "I don't think it will be as easy as that" replied Mr. Murk, cautiously. "If my suspicions are to be believed, he is much much more dangerous than you can imagine, and, I think, quite impossible to kill" he explained. "I am not entirely sure if he qualifies as an immortal..." He paused, finishing off his gin. "The Duke is a master of many arts, but particularly cloning. He is able to clone his own body. An immortality of sorts, I suppose. But only his body. Some fluke of genetics, or psychic power, perhaps. Even magical, maybe. In any case, whilst he has as many bodies as he wants, he has only one mind. He can transfer his body instantly to any of his bodies, whilst the other ones are in a coma" he explained. "It took some considerable resources, both financial and otherwise, to find this out" he added. "Lets just say he has a disgruntled ex-butler...." He paused, mulling it over. "Does this make him immortal? I am not sure..."

Mr. Murk From the shadows, Mr. Murk stepped in. His bowler hat was on his fleshy head, his eyes blind and white, and his mouth turned in that enigmatic sad smile that was his own. He took a seat by the three immortals, a small glass of gin in his hand. "I believe she met me the same way you all did. By invitation" he said in response to Dreadnought's question. "And I thank you all for your efforts today. It is something of a mess, but then, life is always something of a mess" he mused, drinking his Gin. "Morgen. Doctor Sin. Complicated" he summised. "And I am not sure that Duke fellow is quite a stupid as he looks, either. At least, not from his legal expertise. He hired a lawyer, of course. A good one too. But that was a smoke screen, I have come to understand. He knows more about law than his own lawyer..."

GM "What? Shut up, you. You don't know nothing" mumbled the rich kid. "You should learn you...frikkin...place!" he said, louder, just as Amy turned. But it was too late, for the rich kid had stumbled forward and given her a - well, clumsy but effective - right hook. If had been a little more co-ordinated, it might have knocked her out cold. As it was, it was still a mighty clrunch to her head, and she went over, falling to the grown, dazed and confused. "What...what..." she said, as the cobwebs in her head span around and around, and span more webbing from one side of her skull to another. She wasn't getting up just yet, no matter how furiously she told her knees to move. "Give me the damn leaf! I know it got sent here! Abdul gonna be pissed if he dosen't get it back" he sang, lips rubbery and clumsy as he spoke.