Supercape

GM Alex, for his part, could keep up easily enough with the van that was travelling at recklessly high speed. It would certainly catch the eye of any cop patrol, but fortunately it did not. The back streets were used, and the van picked up more than one prang and more than one dent. Pixie, for her part, was struggling to keep up, although she seemed to maintain her invisibility without the slightest bother. "Puff...hufff....puff....can't....go....on...." she wheezed up at Alex.

OOC for This

GM June 26th Morning ASTRO Labs A certain Ms. Cynthia Wright was approached by a certain Mr. Archibald Tweed, known as "Archie" to his friends, colleauges, and pretty much every body who did not want to vex him by calling him Archibald. Mr. Tweed was an chemical engineer, in his late fourties, and most splendid at his Job. A PhD for Oxford, a bright mind, thick glasses and a handsome jaw that would make him an attractive man to the ladies, where it not for the fact he seemed to have little or no interest in activities of the romantic kind, directed at any gender. Perhaps it was glass that attracted him, for he spent all his days studying and experimenting on it. If glass was your need, your need was Tweed. Archie set down a cup of fragrant strong coffee, full of milk and marshmallows and all sorts of deliciousness (one would hope it did not include glass, but one never could tell with Archie) by the desk of Ms. Wright. "Hrmph" he coughed, nervously. "Could you help with ah...ah rather difficult matter? Security breach or cyber crime, or something like that..." he mumbled vaguely.

GM Todd was moderately intoxicated, and took a second or two to pull his brain into gear. "By Hephasteus! What are you doing in my house!" he gasped, scrabbling to his feet. His short stature did not diminish his boldness or intelligence. No, it did not. The beer, however, did. "I mean, whatever you say...don't shoot!" he babbled as his brain clocked the gun. The television was resolutely on. Some cheers went up from some success or another but Todd paid no attention. "What dead woman?" he gulped.

GM "Depends on how fast the van is going" replied Pixie. "And uh...you went invisible too! Like me! I can still hear you though. Wow, spooky. Now I know what it feels like. And how to spook people tee hee!" laughed Pixie mischieviously. "I'm pretty fast. But...depends on the traffic...." It wasn't rush hour, but it wasnt the dead of night either. And big cities always had traffic. It did really depend on how desperate Marcus was, and how reckless his bodyguards were.... The question began to be answered. The van started off, and made good speed, a somewhat wobbly, reckless speed. It was doing a good 30 mph, but Marcus was screaming at his employees to drive faster. "That....is going to be tough to keep up with" groaned Pixie. "If I sprint...sure. A minute. Damn, I should work on my cardio..."

GM Martin Todds house was across the road from the Iron Works. Literally, just across the road. His security was tight. An old fashioned lock of exceptional complexity. It took even Wadjet, who knew her way around locks, nearly half an hour of sweat and tears to pick. As soon as Wadjet entered the house, she noticed something was off. The furniture, the kitchen, the... Martin Todd was a dwarf. From the looks of it, he was smart. Lots of books, computers, and several framed certficiates for academic distinction in the fields of engineering, metallurgy, and robotics. A very smart guy. But also, he was completely engrossed in the sports game, as predicted. With a beer by his side, and reclining in an exceptionally comfortable chair, Martin Todd was oblivious to Wadjet...

GM "I've got a puzzle to solve! Thats why I am the PUZZLE PIXIE!" declared Pixie proudly. "I mean, literally. I'm a pixie. Sort of. And I solve puzzles. Sort of. Um. Its a long story. But sure, I'll help! I mean, lets help each other..." She sighed, still invisible. "Its a really long story..." "Anyway I don't want the police snooping into my puzzles!" Marcus exited stage left into hot night air and into the Broken Wishbone van. There were a couple of bored looking stage hands or bouncers who were smoking suspiciously fragrant cigarrettes. Marcus virtually dived into the van. "Stalker! Stalker! Get me out of here!" The two security men looked at each other. They were slow to react but did react, bundling into the car and igniting the engine...

STR+DEX check: 1d20+10 19

STR roll: 1d20+5 9 adding dex to that it woul be 14!

GM Marcus kept his fingers pinched on his nose, trying to stop the nose bleed. He looked left and right. "Ill say it was witchcraft!" he said, dramatically. "I mean...IT WAS WITCHCRAFT! WITCHCRAFT, I SAY!" in a much louder, much more dramatic voice. "Witchcraft was what it was! And what it was....WAS WITCHCRAFT!" he concluded, for all to hear. Despite the redundancy of his repetitve statements, you had to hand it him, Marcus had a certain charisma, and he made a banquet out of sandwich. Also, he ran. After all, he reasoned, he could say that was witchcraft too (and that witchcraft was what it was, and that what it was - was witchcraft).

GM As the emergency services struggled in - and the audience cooperated, Felix raised an eyebrow. "I say you before. With that short girl" he commented. Said short girl, Pixie, was still invisible, of course. "So you are some kind of superhero. Of the benign kind, thank goodness. Plenty of shattered bones from the other type. Not that things are so clear cut. This is human behaviour" he sighed. "As for information. Well, first off, my bones didn't break. Not now, anyway. Plenty of breaks in the past" he explained, pointing to his legs. "Some kind of genetic problem. They snap easy" he said, bluntly. "Now, I don't know what that means, but it is an observation. I was the only one without any snappage. Which is a world first" he explained. "I dont know anything about this mistress of bones, but it looked awfully like Marcus Skull's girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, seeing as she walked out him..." Marcus Skulll looked up from his blooded nose and broken guitar. His wits restored, his appreciation of the situation sunken in, he quickly turned and tried to run....

GM "Ah, we have a trinity! A trinity of....ah...interesting!" The Hornet seemed to have realised something. "Yes, very interesting. The pieces are the same, but the board has been changed, a new actors have arrived. This makes things very interesting. I wonder what..." He caught himself muttering. As cunning as the Hornet was, he appeared to have a habit. When engrossed in his intellectual acts, he muttered out loud. Up to a point. Now, he shut his mouth closed. "Well, its interesting. That is all" he said, his will exerted. "Wales is very green. Nice sheep" he said, in concillatory tones to Voin. "As for experts in archeo-biochemistry, I suppose it is possible there are experts other than myself" he conceded. "Reagant knows more of chemistry, and Phantom more of the mystic arts. Yes, I have studied the happenings of the world, and Sin's network is vast. But I know of none who have mastered both magic and biochemistry together, as I have!"

GM The crowd cheered. Of course, having the mad mistress of bones depart was good news, granting a fertile soil. But fear was in full swing, and pain was playing a merry tune. But a bit of drama, a bit of performance, and bit of showbiz.. And a heap of inspiration, and Alex had them cheering again. The pandemonium evaporated, and surely much injury was averted. A stampede was the last thing anyone needed when a few dozen men and women already had broken limbs and ribs - and it seemed other bones too. "Awesome!" whispered the invisible Pixie in his ear. Even Felix gave a hearty clap from his wheelchair. Despite being in the zone of breakages, he was unharmed...

And a hero point for letting the villainess get away (and being awesome doing so) - Fax: Unharmed, 2 HP

GM "Ha, it seems my truth is unpalatable. Or unbeleivable. Perhaps both. Maybe I should try plausible lies next time" "Sin did not dig up the woman. I did" he explained emphatically. "I doubt Sin would ever set foot in the United Kingdom, let alone that dismal land called Wales" he said with distaste. "Does it ever stop raining there?" He shook himself to the business at hand. "I extracted the juice from the sleeping woman. And now, Sin...or should I say Sin has claimed...that he needs an expert from Holland to clone the sample. Now, That is what he has said. And by my estimation what he has done. But you know as well as I do, I am sure, that what he says, what he appears to do, and what he does are often different things. And the why of it is even more obscure" "I am not lying to you, and fear not your wrath" he said confidently. "You too, will find my reach long and dangerous, should I care to exert it" he added threateningly. "I do not strike directly, either. Mark that well". He smiled - a cold smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Now, I have given you information. I doubt you will catch Sin, but it is possible. And I will take the possibility. However, should you fail I must salvage some benefit from this mess. I would suggest then that you find out what Sin intends, and foil his plans. If you return that sample to me, I can analyse it for you. I doubt anyone else will fathom its complexities".

GM "I ah..." said Pixie, somewhat unsure. "I can play guitar. A little bit. I mean, not like super good. But a bit" she explained. "Like strum some chords and stuff. A few scales. I'm not in a band or anything" she explained, rather fast, as growing anxiety came from growing speculation as to Alex's plan. "And Ill call you a superhero. That sounds awesome! Like, totally awesome. I can say I met a superhero today. How awesome is that?" she added, trying to distract or deflect Alex. "Me, I'm like super shy and stuff. Cant stand people looking at me. Making fun of my ea...making fun of me. That's why I learned to become invisible!"

GM "Darn" The mistress of bones, as she proclaimed herself, was most pleased with the cracking of ribs below her in the mosh pit, but... "A superhero" Gosh, are you are superhero? came Pixie's invisible voice at Alex's ear. "Well, this is Freedom City, I suppose I should have expected it" said the bone witch, displeased but accepting. "And yes, running does sound prudent, even if it runs counter to my pride!" And with that, she heeded to good advice, and ran from the stage, left. "Wait! Wait!" mumbled Mr. Skulll, his voice week and garbled. He spat out a bloody tooth as he held his smashed nose (trying, with partial success, to stem the bleeding...)

This scene is coming to an end - the question would, to my mind, be on what terms LH leaves it - pushing /needling to the point of antagonism, a swift exit, or deceptively? The issue with more detective threads is the risk of "dead ends" narratively, but hopefully there are a few more avenues to explore, like the Iron Works (and workers therein), more ground level staff working either directly for Eve or at the iron Works, or the chief engineer mentioned? You can always dig into the streets or the victims life (freinds, relatives, etc), or even see if the police are corrupt. The decision for this scene is how do you part with Eve, I think.

GM Dispatch may have been on its way, but this was pandemonium. Everybody was stampeding to get out of the panic, and in doing so the panic fungated and multiplied. Felix Mossau had been knocked sideways and, with impressive strength, was rightening his chair against the wall, teeth gritted. He understood the panic, and rightly feared it. It would be the devil of a job for dispatch to arrive. And besides, they had another problem. Onto the stage strode a tall, thin woman with antique garb and a long bone staff. her eyes blue, her hair dark, her demeanour eagour. "I!" she declared theatrically. "I am the mistress of bones!" This only increased the panic.

GM The Hornet gave a cunning smile. "The woman you speak of, the sleeping icy woman, is immortal, or something close to it. You are aware that Sin has extended his life many times over, and yet I believe he requires rejuvination. I would not swear to it, for Sin is ever obscure. Yet, this I would gamble on! He desires her alchemy, that frozen blood, that icy juice, of her body!" "I extracted it for him. And now, he wishes to...clone it, I think. I am not sure if one can clone such magic. I am not sure it is magic, or it is cloning. But he has gone to Holland to seek an expert on the matter" he said, mulling the words over carefully. "Now, perhaps you could intercept him, or merely foil his plans. If you were feeling bold, you could contaminate the extract with a subtle poison..."

And I think Ex has opened it up to Frost and Voin!

GM The shockwave cut out the music, for the speakers blew in spectacular fashion. The force was enough to send most of the band and instruments (and large plastic ornamental skull) hurtling to the back of the stage. Marcus Skull, by virtue it seemd of determination and determination alone, stood standing, although his hairstyle (carefully crafted to look totally uncrafted) took a bad hit, and his eyes seemed more bloodshot than normal. He launched himself, completely heedless of his stupidity, into the crowd, who parted ways rapidly. His target, fortunately, was Alex rather than the myriad of broken bones. And his aim was very much off. He fell short, his prized guitar chainsaw bent at ninety degrees, and his nose quite bloodied from landing flat on his face.

Thanks for the heads up! Also, I am aware that this has turned into Dreadnought solo :D, for understandable reasons as it suited the narrative, but I will try and bend it to a more team effort now!

As per chat, Shockwave DC 25 The rest of the band, and most of the equipment, is knocked back and unconscious / destroyed. Amazingly Tough Save vs Shockwave: 1d20+2 21 MArcus is onlyl bruised. He will therefore stage dive towards Max, chainsaw in hand:CHAINSAW!: 1d20+4 8 missing! Pulling out of combat right now, as Marcus is on the floor and his prized chainsaw guitar busted from the dive.

Rene Rene sat himself down, tired. He had no wish for drinks, or food, right now. He was disconcerted. Had it come to this? Spirits and Gods. Gods and spirits. Bah! I spit at them all! Except Marianne. To his my mind, liberty was the highest force - the freedom from force. "It is desperate times" he mumbled. "Forgive me, but my heart is heavy and troubled. I bring Ze spirit of liberty, Marianne, always closest to my heart, and whose philosophy is mine own" he explained. "These days might threaten our freedom. Or our lives" he sighed. "It will take me no time to call her. Her answer, however..." He shrugged. He smiled at Phantom, whose image shone in his head. "Ze Master Mage is here, then" he said, not unkindly. If anyone was to be Master Mage, she was eminantly suitable. And yet, he never liked Master Mages, at least, not the title. Broken Crow had taught him centuries ago, and he had warmth in his heart for his tutor. And indeed for many othe Master Mages. Yet despite this warmth for the person, he disliked the title. Master. An ambigious word. Either it impled mastery of magics (and implied a heirachy of mastery), or it implied an authority. The term, and the implications, rankled him. Such philosophical defiance was best set aside. Phantom was wise and benign and if she wished the mantle of Master Mage, then good luck to her. And if she was here, it was good luck to them all. "Ze world needs all ze strength it can muster" he added, bowing to Phantom. "Ah! It is good to see you. It fosters hope. I am sadly just a helpless old man, you see..." he smiled. And gave Nick a wink.