Supercape

It will, let the cooking commence! (IC!) Also, with that roll you will notice during the BBQ off that FIgg's meats are pre-pepared and highly flammable!

GM "MY KEY! MY KEY!" Said Grumpy outside, pleased as a Giant who had lost his magic key and had got 1/3 of it back! That is to say, whilst the sour Grump still swirled like a mist around his persona, there was a merry little ray of sunshine that shone pleasantly through it. He took the jar of honey and peered at Sam. "Oh shoot!" mumbled Sam. "MAGICWORD!" rumbled Grumpy. Yes indeed, there was a magic word to put the key back together again, but Grumpy, in his no-nonsense manner had decided that the best way to remember the magic word was to call it magicword. In a puff of magic, Sam popped back into his proper shape. The shaft of a key. "Thats better!" smiled Grumpy. "BUT we best not DELAY!" he added, more grumpily. "HARRY the HEAD and TABITHA the TIP are still LOST!" He paused and squinted heavily whilst thinking. "Harry love MARSHMELLOW and Tabby love CHOCOLATE!"

@EternalPhoenix just so we can say you rolled it for once. A knowledge (Culinary) skill roll please!

GM "YOU? teach ME? HUAW HUAW HUAW HUAW HUAW!" faux-laughed Big Figg. "Let me tell you, Figg takes lessons from nobody!" he said. It was unclear if he recognised the worlds greatest chef as the chef who was the greatest in the world. But he did have an evasion coming up. "I ain't havin' no competition but the Barbeque one. Whaddya think this is? The Great British Bake off with Mel and Sue...not that...I...ah...not that I watch that off course..." he added, looking rather ashamed for a moment. "This here is Barbeque Land! And I'm going to win like never before!" he said, confidently. He threw some food down on the nearest grill and pulled out his secret blend of herbs and spices and...well...stuff. "You up for a BARBEQUE OFF?" he challenged Maybelle?

Tough vs Scarab Punch: 1d20+3 7 FATALITY! Er, I mean knock out. Its not Mortal Kombat. Post that how you like!

GM There was eatin', and it must be said, the eatin' was good. The worlds finest chef got a hearty round of applause, and many a stomach was bloated. It seemed that she was pleasing everyone. But not quite! For onto the stage stomped Mr. Fernando Figg. A giant of man, with a giant beard. Tattoos wound their way over bulging veins. He was blessed with plenty of muscle and plenty of fat, slabbed liberally on a broad big boned frame that was well over six foot. Big Figg they called him. And he was, apparently, the number one BBQ man of Texas. "Whats this, Pepper? Cheatin' again? You gettin' help? Nobody gonna help you. I'll kick their damn ass!" Lamentably, Big Figg's excellent skills on the BBQ were marred by his brute personality.

GM It was a stormy, windy, and wet situation. Or at least, a cyber-situation. Everything here was a represention of binary code. The Intrusion Conunter Electronic - the ICE - was literally, in this space, ICE. Hail and wind and cold. It was fortunate that Replica got a foot hold, for she could feel the ICE spiking through the connection into her meat-space body. But despite its brutal counter attack, it failed in its primary goal. For in cyber space, Replica was even more cunning and capable than meat space! Lo! A back door! In this case, a hatch beneath her feet. And through it, she descended! It was a brutal hack, but she landed in a comfortable white leather chair. In a featureless white room. Calm, neutral. Inside the AI. WELCOME USER She was in. Free to poke and prod and ask any question of the AI.

Thus it be, be it so, thusly be it, and it be thusly so.

GM "Oh! My! Well, what a day!" answered Sarah Sting, surprised to say the least. "Having my spoon turn into a metal doll and eat my hunny! A story I would love to share, if only people would not think me mad! Ah well, I shall have to be content with telling it to myself. Although I am not sure I would believe me" she concluded. She gave a friendly wave to her pots of hunny. "Please, help youself..." she started, before spotting the Beekeeper and having a few cogs in her brain turn over "....well, unless you are going to consume three times your own body weight. You aren't fueled by hunny are you?"

And edit made to last IC so anybody / everybody is up!

Yes! Sorry for missing this! Let us drop out of combat a moment for drama and words, words and drama.

Diamondlight The Bee All And End All Snakebite The Weight of Wealth Curveball Service Mr Murk Codus Immortus: Tsunami Starshot (Posts -> Sgt Shark) Crash on Volturnus Echohead No Better Time To Start The Red Rat (Posts -> Lament) What Happens in the Shadows Rev Racing Death GM Codus Immortus: Icy Juice Texan BBQ Puzzle Box: Key of Three Head West Gridlock North, West, and East Guide Point to Snakebite GM Posts to raise (in order) the following to 25 Posts / 3 PP (if possible!) Diamondlight, Snakebite, Echohead, Mr Murk, Sgt Shark, Lament, Rev, Ronin, Curveball I think I have enough to boost all to 25Posts/3PP. If there is enough following on, then Boost to 50Posts/4 PP in similar order as above.

Diamondlight "Whats this, a wasp?" asked Diamondlight in a friendly manner, running his fingers through his hair and stroking his chin. He have a broad grin. "No no! A bee! The beekeeper, actually, if my memory serves me adequately. And I believe it does, for who could forget the beguilingly brilliant bastion of bees that is the beekeeper!" he said, voice a blend of smooth and dramatic. He shook the beekeepers hand. "Zoss. August Zoss" He gave the O.K. Signal to Miranda. "Don't worry Miranda, we have here an upstanding citizen of Freedom City. Always welcome in the High Steaks, especially as we may have a bee problem to deal with. Looks like he is the perfect man to help!" "Can I get you anything? A drink? Coffee? A medium rare steak?" he asked the Beekeeper politely, with a little bow.

GM Vernon Salt, for his part, was keen to learn as well. He wiped his sweaty brow with his sweaty hand and tried to lap up every picosecond of demonstration. He was bold enough, on odd occassion, to ask question. As it turned out, he wasnt a bad chef at all. Limited in scope, perhaps, but no ignoramus. After all, he was the second best BBQ chef in the whole of Texas! Sam Pepper, for her part trotted Gossamer over to a requisitioned truck crammed packed with rather disorganised and compact laboratory equipment. "Best we could do at short notice" she said, a little ashamed. "We are kind of new..." It was sub-optimal, at best. But it would do in a pinch. Better than nothing. "The fact that this is a packed environment has certainly not helped our concern" she agreed, in reference to the Legionnaire's. "Im sure you appreciate WEST do not like big crowds around dangerous science...." She pushed aside a microscope and shuffled some papers to help tidy the place. It wasn't of much help. "Its an explosive situation. Like, literraly explosive. If these chemicals are infact such high energy combustibles, could be an issue. We have put the FIre service on standby. North* has, in his normal way, managed to avoid too many questions about the threat. He has a gift, that man" She pointed at a couple of fire extinguishers. "In the mean time, just be aware we have these...." she said, unhappy. They were not much. But as with the equipment, better than nothing. *Doctor Norris North is director of W.E.S.T

Fascimile - 2 HP Beekeeper - 4 HP

GM "mmmm.....REAL HUNNY! OOOH! Sweet and delicious! YES!" With not a seconds thought (in fact, less than no thought...yes, its impossible to do less then no thinking....but this was a magic key) Sam the shaft jumped straight into the hunny pot. "BLISS! OH THE BLISS! SWEET SWEET HUNNY!" he moaned, stuffing more and more of the hunny into his mouth. Where it went, nobody could tell. For it seemed that Sam had already consumed five times his body weight in hunny. "WAIT?" he stopped, halfway through a mouthful. "What are you doing? HEY! LET ME OUT!" he complained trying, to no avail, to break out of the pot. He pushed against the lid - and Fascimile could certainly tell that Sam was a lot stronger than he should be at that size. But he was no match for Fascimile clamping his hand down.

Ex> If its ok with you I think fiating against mimicing the key would be best as it might flummox the thread. Id suggest that works as something magic etc, but in any case it would be worth an HP? If you feel that grates against your head-canon we can roll with it and see what I can do! I wont even bother rolling against that trick!

Snakebite "Gin and Tonic. Easy on the tonic" replied Cassie politely, pushing forward a little more money than was necessary. A lot more money than necessary actually. "And give me your opinion on those tourists over there" she asked him, calmly, nodding her head at the two men who looked suspiciously like military men. "They look like trouble to me..." she said. It was said gently, a subtle suggestion rather than a definitive nail. Like placing a light feather of suspicion on someones brain.

GM Sam was fast and light on his little dainty metal feet, and how he pounced and danced left, then right, quite merrily. Oh! He might well have avoided the globule, except that it was... HONEY! At the faintest whiff of the sweet stuff, all attempts at evasion went out of the window, and he dived straight into the globule, till he was up to his neck in it. "MMMM..MMMM....HONEY!" he moaned, quite in escstacy. But, the strangest thing, for he was not impeded by the hunny. No! His metal arms flowed like shards of water as he shovelled mouthful after mouthful of the stuff into his arm... "MMM...WAIT!" he paused. "IS THIS THE REAL STUFF?" he asked the Beekeeper, suspicious? Clearly Sam was an expert on hunny. Only the real stuff would do!

I think we can run with that as Sam cant resist hunny! But...insubstantial 1! So it has psychologically trapped him, but not physically!

GM "Damn you! May your cow's udders shrivel and dry!" cursed one of the thugs, as he blocked the Scarab's fist with his face. "Get her! The slippery snake of Satan!" yelled another, who had successfully bruised the Scarab's foot with his kidneys. They pounced. Too slow, too inelegant for the Scarab. One got a hand on her arm from behind, but circular motions and momentun sent him turning around and knee deep in his own frustration. "By my uncles grey beard! GET HER!" screamed the last, quite embarressed at their performance.

OK so lets not let this drag on too long! As soon as you drop one, they will run! Grab her!: 3#1d20+3 10 21 9 three grapple rolls, one hit. opposed Grapple Roll: 1d20+4 10 his grapple roll. Ill waive that as its such a low throw and to keep things moving!

GM "Sort of" replied Pepper. "Trace amounts, and biodegradable. The chemicals are unreliable, unpredictable. Inflammable..." She paused. "Yeah...I set fire to the laboratory we used" she said, meekly. "I tell you what, if these chemicals ever get stabilised and mass produced, we solve the worlds fuel problems" she said. "But frankly I doubt it. Nobody wants their car blowing up..." She looked around a bit suspiciously. "But be mindful of that. This could attract the wrong kind of attention..." "I don't think they are nano-machines. Not really. Just self replicating chemicals, like RNA, that use organic molecules to feed into a quasi-valent helix loop" she said, more confident in her field. She gave a breif explanation of her theory which, too Gossamer sounded reasonable but unpolished. "Anyway, I got us these..." She produced too hand held sensors. "W.E.S.T. Field sensors" she explained, giving a little explanation. "They can pick up any abnormalities in the EM Range, and can even do a basic field analysis of chemicals. Not enough to understand what we are dealing with. But they can at least test a sample to see if there is something unusual..."

Tough vs Scarab Punch: 1d20+3 23 unebelievable! Do you want to throw an IC for that?

GM The first, ugliest, stupidest and baldest thug took the punch squarely on his nose. the Scarab heard a cracking sound that was far from pleasant. "Pfft! Is that all you got?" replied the Thug, who was bleeding profusely from his broken nose. He started saying something else, but the blood got in his lips and he just spluttered. "<Damn that hurt!>" he added softly in Arabic, his teeth gritted. He stepped back and it looked for one moment like he might fall. "Get her! The damn crazy woman!" said another to the third, and both swung their improvised weapons - a crowbar and a plank of wood with a nail in the end. The latter managed to strike the Scarab squarely on the back - a hearty and robust retort!