Supercape

Synth (Winter Snow) "Well, it's not bones and brains, Breakfast. Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you will have to wait till Lunch to eat" she joked. She quickly torn off a small strip of cotton and shoved it in a pocket. It would be good reference material. What had ripped that pipe off the wall? Something strong. Or maybe just a few guys with crowbars. But however you cut it, it looked suspiciously like it had been used as an improvised weapon. The police could no doubt put it under a microscope. But the police also asked questions, and Synth had no papers, and was most keen to stay off the Radar. Winter Snow, particularly. This was the first time she had kept down any kind of life for more than a couple of weeks. And she had friends. "Nothing to be worried about, Breakfast. You can turn around. Lets get this trash loaded up and have lunch at The Meat Mountain. That should get your spirits up. Ill buy the coffee" she offered. With her nickels and dimes, she could barely afford to buy him lunch, even at the cheap greasy smoky cafe called the Meat Mountain. Still, it was nearby, tolerated the stench of labourers and refuge collectors, and was even a good source of street chatter if you kept your ears open.

Synth (Winter Snow) "Can't say I want to know either" replied Synth, whose nose was hit hard. "But guess I have to know now I'm here" she explained. "Look away, Breakfast. You don't want to lose those eggs and sausages from this morning" she said to the burly man. She shuffled to position herself between the sheets and her co worker. Carefully, she took off her leather gloves. Sure, her hands would stink, but nothing some bleach wouldn't wipe clean later. She needed to touch and feel. And smell. She reached out to the blood-soaked sheets, feeling around, and then smelling her fingers. Pretty foul, and pretty foul behaviour, But a year working in refuse collection and your perspective on these things changed. Then, she unpeeled the sheets, steeling herself for what she might find. Her hunch was, a murder weapon. But in freedom city, you just never knew what was tossed out in the trash...

Synth (Winter Snow) Winter grabbed the bags and winkled her nose. She was dressed in the uniform of a refuse collector, complete with boots and leather gloves, her hair peeled back with a hairband. Benjamin "Breakfast" Bloom grabbed another two. He was a short, wide man, comprised of large amounts of muscle and a huge belly. He had a handsome enough face despite not a hair on his head and veritable explosion of hair on his jaw, giving him a massive beard. Winter and Breakfast often pulled shifts together and she had become friends with the man. It was said he had a dodgy past, and had been in more than one serious fight. He had a cool scar running over his forehead, anyway. "This one really stinks. What the hell do the do in Scrapper's?" she asked her friend as she held the bag of blood to her nose. "I got to know..." She put the bag down, and tore the bag open. They always had spare bags in the van, and bags ripped all the time. Breakfast and the other guys often "accidentally" tore bags to have a laugh at what was inside.

Apologies this was annotation error. Synthetic Cell Array should have been 23 PP, not 24 PP (and 2 alt powers, not 3). At 23 PP, it all adds up.

GM There was a long bar of white ceramic and steel, behind which, a range of expensive drinks in expensive bottles. Several synthetic food dispensers plugged away, providing tasty delicacies for those that wished them. Quite the rainbow of aromas for Barrier. Most of the work was being done by the half dozen chrome robots that walked like cats amongst the hall, but directing them seemed to be a nervous little man. He was probably only four feet, if that, wizened and grey, with the occasional tuft of white hair. An undiplomatic soul could call him a shrivelled little gnome. He was clearly nervous and deeply uncomfortable, polishing the bar and keeping an eye on the robots. He had an intense stare that he instantly averted when catching somebodies eye. He was not, it should be said, the most charismatic of souls. Quite the oddity amongst the smooth, rich, famous and handsome that trod the hall. Even the chrome robots showed more charm than he. But he did seem to be good at polishing, a knew precisely where every one of the hundred plus drinks were, plus exactly what species it would suit. "Yes Madam, how can I...guh...help?" he squeaked at Barrier. Unfortunately by mischance the four robots beside him had all wandered off in a masterpiece of bad timing, and he had to attend to a guest himself.

You may wish to make Knowledge (Galactic) or (Current Events) rolls to spot a few faces. Eidectic memory would count! DC 20 to spot / recognise Fish Man Speaking to Lexa Horribly ugly big dog-man DC 25 to Spot Red haired, Red eyed, red clothed woman with horribly ugly big dog-man Half rusted robot wearing a splendid suit and bandana. In addition you may wish to make a knowledge [Technology] roll DC 15 to note that

GM Trident Hall The panoramic glass hall did indeed offer a magnificent view of the opera, where it seemed the final preparations for the opening were going on. There were fifty people, at a guess, gathered. Drinks were being served, alongside a variety of foodstuffs for various palates. Some were clearly delicious, some clearly repulsive, according ones olfactory system. There was, however, a slightly synthetic quality to it all - perhaps unavoidable, on a lifeless world. A few faces were recognisable. Famous artists, famous politicians. Most were not. It was a big galaxy, after all. The Tinker (and nobody was quite sure what he looked like), was not present - or at least, could not be seen. Several robots manned the foods and drinks, tall, slender chrome robots with red eyes, smooth movements, and silent politeness. "There she is" said Sphere Lexa herself was a slender, slightly short woman with white skin and black robes that clung and flowed in a pattern that was somehow both revealing and concealing at different moments and angles. She was Lor, but looked (bar her tone) fairly human. Beautiful, perhaps, in an unconventional and fragile way. What was not fragile was her magnetism, for the social atmosphere bent to her gravity. She was holding a clear fluid drink and chatting to an enraptured Fish-man.

Just a refresher: The centre of the vent can be considered a hot environment, whilst if you submerge yourself to go actually to the vent entrance, it would be extreme heat (actually swimming into the vent would be direct heat damage). Just past the lake, you will have a mile or so of a cold environment, whilst any further (the bulk of the planet) would be extreme cold. You are also under low gravity. As a reminder: • Speed: A creature’s speed increases by +5 feet in a low-gravity environment. This bonus applies to all of the creature’s modes of movement. • Carrying Capacity: A creature’s normal carrying capacity is doubled in a low-gravity environment. • Movement: Creatures in a low-gravity environment gain a +10 bonus on Climb checks and an effective +20 Strength for jumping. • Attack Roll Penalty: Creatures take a –2 penalty on attack rolls in a low-gravity environment unless they are native to that environment or have the Environmental Adaptation feat. • Damage from Falling: Creatures do not fall as quickly in a low-gravity environment as they do in a normal- or high-gravity environment. Falling damage is halved. • Long-Term Effects: Long-term exposure to low-gravity conditions can cause serious problems when returning to normal gravity. A creature that spends 120 hours or more in a low-gravity environment takes 2 points of temporary Strength damage upon returning to normal gravity, which recovers at a rate of 1 point per day. Of these, the Attack roll penalty is probably the most pertinent. The Long-Term Effects of STR loss are unlikely to be (we should only be on Nocturne about 3 days), and we can probably ignore that (always open to roleplaying something like a Gravitronil drug and a medicine roll, of course!) Also note that environmental adaptation (low gravity) will do away with all the penalties of the above (which Paradigm has!). You can spend an HP to gain that feat for a scene (but not the entire thread!)

GM And it seemed it would not be long. The Silver Bullet fired out of hyperspace into orbit around Nocturne. It was a cold, dark world, in cold, dark space. One could only see it as a silhouette against a sky densely cluttered with stars, thanks to the proximity to the galactic core. And the stars were beautiful. Nocturne, a planet with no sun. Its atmosphere breathable, its gravity low. Terrible cold in most places, but several dozen massive geothermal vents that melted the ice and could even create steaming scalding geysers. The Tinker had housed himself in one of the best spots, a vent not too large, not too small. As the Silver Bullet descended almost silently through the clear atmosphere, his home could be seen from the lights. One could even make out the magnificent opera stage that had been built, next to a lake of pleasantly warm water that bubbled in places. The Tinker had named this place Triton, after an Earth mythology that he seemed to be familiar with. It was glass and chrome and quite beautiful in a cold lonely way, as befitted the Tinker himself. In contrast, the Opera stage, designed by Lexa, was full of colour and textures. Woods from a thousand worlds, quilts, textiles, and dyes from more. The Silver bullet floated into dock. Amara may have not been the best pilot, but she was good enough to slip easily into the bay, and she knew the ship handled superbly. "We have arrived" said Sphere, glowing warmly. "Some normal tourist advice. Outside the lake, the planet is extremely cold. The atmosphere is quite breathable, and no precautions need be taken. However, the whole planet is low gravity for most species, so please mind your step!" "We have arranged living space on Triton, which you are free to check into. There is also an observation hall in the base, with a view of the Opera, although for the main performances, the best position would be in the open air. We have arranged an elevated box for you. I believe there is already a number of guests at the hall, where drinks and refreshments will be served. You might even catch Lexa herself there"

GM The Oogian brandy was served in a small wooden flask. The Oog, it transpired, were a primitive simian species on a distant jungle planet renowned for tribal wars and excellent brewing. The brandy had an brusque harsh texture and was more interesting than pleasant. It would linger on the palate for hours. "I am afraid I am not privvy to the Night Flower" replied Sphere, smoothly. "Lexa keeps her works quite close to her chest, working with a small group of fellow artists and automatons to construct the opera itself. I understand it will run continuously for three days, although most of it is more a fixture, with background music and images, rather than the story itself. The piece is interactive, with the audience being present for its major events, whilst in between these events they can peruse the piece, as if one would stroll through an art gallery" explained the robot. "The premise of the Night Flower is a fragile and beautiful flower that blossoms when the sun sets, only for one night, and despite its brevity and fragility it is alive, and all that behold it experience love. At least, that is the official word" said Sphere, politely. Whilst Lexa was known for grand advertising, she usually threw up surprises, some of which were not much appreciated. "But you may of course ask Lexa herself. She is awaiting you on Nocturne and will meet you personally, although..." came a soft electronic chuckle and witty sparks "...you will find her more cryptic than me, I would think".

GM "As you wish" replied Sphere, floating silently. "Perhaps some music? Might I suggest Septuplets in Sevens? Apparently it formed the foundations for the Night Flower" suggested the Sphere. Through the speakers, softly, came the piece. It was complex, an acquired taste, using the most intricate and obscure time signature, but despite its oddity, it had (at least, to some ears), a beauty. The Silver Bullet itself was a beautiful ship inside, and handled well. Its speed was excellent, both in normal space and through the dimensions of hyperspace. It would be an hour at most before they arrived at Nocture. As they sped through space that was not space, Sphere floated two the two Praetorians. "Whilst we traverse the galaxy, I am at your service. I was designed by Lexa herself, although not built by her. I am, apparently, quite the work of art" sparkled Sphere, apparently polite and happy, with glowing embers floating over its metal skin.

Synth Power Level: 11/15 (250/250) [251] Unspent Power Points: 0 Trade-Offs: +1 attack/-1 DC; +1 defense/-1 toughness In Brief: Socialist Synthetic Organism. Alternate Identity: Winter Snow Birthplace: Northern Scandinavia Residence: Freedom City, Downtown (Run down flat) Base of Operations: Freedom City Occupation: Refuse Collector Affiliations: Freedom City Refuse and Sewer services Family: None Description: As Synth (As Winter Snow) Age: 7 (18/8/2010) Apparent Age:25 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5’9” Weight: 70Kgs Eyes: Blue (Green) Hair: Chestnut (Jet Black) Synth can take on the appearance of any human. As such Synth has no gender, but “her” main secret ID (Winter Snow) is female, so “she” tends to use this pronoun. In natural state, Synth is a pale white, hairless human with no apparent gender. The skin is slightly translucent, and her appearance as a whole is pretty unnerving to look at. Whilst asleep, she reverts to this default form. When Synth activates “hypertrophied” muscles, Synth looks visibly (and extraordinarily) more muscular. Winter Snow, her main Secret ID is a tall woman with rather messy choppy hair. She is beautiful in a sense, but scruffy with drab, cheap clothes. As a “superhero” (and there is time to change), she wears a dark all in one spandex number. She changes her appearance slightly, her eyes becoming blue, her hair and skin lighter. History: Synth was created in a top secret laboratory in northern Sweden, led by Dr Ingvar Nyberg. Unknown to the team of scientists, the facility and research was funded by SHADOW to investigate creating the perfect “Aryan”. The team had access to Utopian (particularly, Superior) DNA. Synth grew up quickly, maturing in a year with full cognitive faculties and superhuman physical abilities. With such success, SHADOW moved in to reap its reward. Dr Nyberg managed to smuggle Synth out. The research team are gone, presumed (?) dead. With no identity, Synth moved to America. After some adventures as a superhero, Synth went into temporary retirement as part of self-discovery. She has worked a number of menial jobs, and had a number of identities. She settled down as part of the refuge collection service of the city. She would have been happy enough doing this, until she found on of her work friends murdered in a dumpster. Anger aside, she felt she could no longer just live the simple life…she had a duty to clean up the city, in more ways than one… Possessed of superhuman senses and spending days rummaging around the rubbish of the rich, famous, criminal, and ordinary citizen alike, Synth often comes across some interesting stuff… Personality & Motivation: Synth is reflective, wise, and even introspective. She leans heavily to liberal socialist politics, finding much to admire in democracy and little to admire in capitalism. That said, she is not a political person but finds her expresses her beliefs in day to day empathy. As synth also carries the imprinted memories of several scientists (and their brain patterns), she can also get a little odd, or unpredictable, if those personalities reassert themselves. That said, those brain patterns are generally of (relatively) benign and sensible scientists, and the imprinted memories usually have a rather vague quality rather than full blown personalities (unless…) Powers & Tactics: Synth has the ability to change her body to any humanoid. The change takes several seconds of concentration and is also painful depending on how extreme and speedy the change is. For this reason Synth will usually (time permitting) change slowly. As an artificial organism, Synth has several superhuman traits. Synth has superhuman strength, agility, endurance and speed. Synth’s senses are extremely acute. Synth does not age and is immune to poison and disease. Synth can control her own biological functions voluntarily (such as heart rate or various hormones like adrenaline) and is able to change muscle function; normally (as it is most comfortable), Synth’s muscles are extremely efficient, able to function with minimal metabolic demands. Alternatively, they can hypertrophy and gain additional power, or become loose and elastic, meaning Synth has remarkable contortionist abilities. Synth’s cells can “infect” others, causing them to break out in contagious boils or blotches, a tactic used against biological targets. Synth’s cells can also regenerate, and can cannibalize others flesh. Due to imprinted memories, Synth is an expert in many biological / psychological fields. Synth has no formal martial art training and will always prefer non-violent or non-lethal conflict resolution. In a fight, Synth will use a combination of strength, speed, and advanced knowledge of pressure points / anatomy to subdue rather than “skill” in combat. Complications: Inhuman: Regular medicine, unless done by biogenetic experts, will be ineffective on Synth, or possibly harmful. In addition, whilst Synth normally has immunity to poison and disease, certain engineered toxins and diseases will still affect her (or possibly she might be especially vulnerable to them). Ugly: Whilst Synth can normally choose attractive forms, the “natural” state is pretty hard on the eye (and sensitive to sunburn!). When she sleeps, for instance, she will revert to this state. Of course, this is not a complication unless actually being horribly ugly causes some additional problems over and above losing morphed status). Pain: Quickly changing appearance hurts Synth. Very slow changes (an hour) are barely noticeable. If done slowly (a few minutes) it is an unpalatable ache. A speedy transformation can be anything from a griping pain (if the changes are relatively minor) to a crippling agony (for major changes of size, build, or gender). This could leave Synth flat footed, stunned, or even unconscious, and at the very least are distracting. Reverting to "natural" state is, however, painless. Memories: Synth has the imprinted brain patterns of several top scientists which can bubble, distract or even change her personality, particularly if Synth is tired or drained. Whilst most of these brain patterns are benign, this is not automatically so. In addition, whilst Synth can normally access these “echoes” to gain expert knowledge of biological sciences, this might not always be the case. It is possible certain psychology experts or psionic / mental powers might take advantage of this part of her. Job Stinks: The job smells. If called away mid work, she will certainly have a detectible (and unpleasant) odour. Even out of hours and after a shower, sensitive noses (such as the scent supersense) may well pick up her day job. She would have to some time with industrial strength detergents to completely wipe the smell away. Aside from this making her recognisable, it may also make social interactions more difficult. In addition, refuse collection is not well paid; Winter snow is struggling financially (run down rented room, no car, etc). Abilities: 16 + 32 + 20 + 6 + 8 + 4 = 86 Strength: 26 (+8) [30 (+10) with Rage] Dexterity: 42 (+16) Constitution: 30 (+10) Intelligence: 16 (+3) Wisdom: 18 (+4) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 24 + 24 = 48 Initiative: +20 Attack: +12 Defense: +12, +6 Flat Footed Grapple: +28 (Additional +3 with Hypertrophied muscles) Knockback: -5 Saving Throws: 2 + 2 + 2 = 6 Toughness: +10 (+10 Con) Fortitude: +14 (+10 Con, +4) [+16 with Rage] Reflex: +16 (+16 Dex) Will: +6 (+4 Wis, +2) [+8 with Rage] Skills: 100 Ranks = 25 PP Acrobatics 8 (+24) Bluff 4 (+6) Climb 4 (+6) Craft (Mechanical) 4 (+7) Diplomacy 4 (+6) Disguise 0 (+2) Skill Mastery [+20/+22 With Morph] Drive 4 (+20) Skill Mastery Escape Artist 0 (+16) Skill Mastery [With Hypermobile Muscles 16 (+32)] Intimidate 4 (+6) Knowledge (Behaviour Sciences) 8 (+11) [Enhanced: 16 (+19)] Knowledge (Life Sciences) 8 (+11) [Enhanced: 16 (+19)] Knowledge (Streetwise) 4 (+7) Language 4 (English, French, German, Russian, Swedish) Medicine 8 (+12) Skill Mastery [Enhanced: 16 (+20)] Notice 12 (+16) Search 4 (+7) Sense Motive 8 (+12) Stealth 8 (+24) Swim 4 (+12) Feats: 17 PP Acrobatic Bluff Blind Fight Chokehold Defensive Attack Evasion 2 Grappling Finesse Improved Critical 2 (Unarmed Attack) Improved Initiative 1 Jack of All Trades Move By Action Skill Mastery (Disguise, Drive, Escape Artist, Medicine) Takedown Attack 1 Stunning Attack Ultimate Effort [Fort Saves] Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) As Enhanced Traits: Attractive 2 (Potentially) Endurance 5 (with hyper efficient muscles active) Rage 1 (10 Round Duration) Powers: 6 + 3 + 7 + 2 + 8 + 6 + 1 + 2 + 7 + 2 + 25 = 69 Enhanced Trait 6 (Knowledge [Behavioural Sciences] 8, Knowledge [life sciences] 8, Medicine 8) [6 PP] “Imprinted Biomedical Science Memories” Feature: Autonomic control (Feats: Rage, 10 rounds) [3 PP] “Synthetic organism” Immunity 7 (Aging, Cold, Critical Hits, Disease, Own infection power, Poison) “Synthetic Organism” [Biological] Leaping 2 (x5 distance, total: running 90’, standing 45’, high jump 22’) [2PP] “Synthetic organism” Morph 4 (Humans, +20 to disguise rolls, Extras: Duration [continuous], Feats: Attractive 2, Drawbacks: Full round to change [-3], Not clothes or inorganic material [-2], Power Loss: Sleep [-1]) [8 PP] “Synthetic organism” Muscle Array (5 PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 2, Drawbacks: Move action to change array) [6 PP] BP: Enhanced Trait 5 (Endurance 5) [5/5 PP] “Hyperefficient muscles” AP: Super Strength 3 (+15 to Strength, Drawbacks: Noticeable) [5/5 PP] “Hypertrophied muscles” AP: Enhanced Trait 4 (Escape Artist +15) linked with Quickness 3 (Additional x10 for x50 total, Flaws: One task [Escape Artistry]) [5/5 PP] “Hyperflexible muscles” Quickness 2 (x5 Speed, Flaws: Physical actions only) [1 PP] “Synthetic Organism” Speed 2 (25 mph or 220’/rnd) [2 PP] “Synthetic organism” Super Senses 7 (Acute Olfactory, Analytical Tactile, Extended Hearing 1 [x10], Extended Olfactory 1 [x10], Extended Vision 1 [x10], Low Light Vision, Tracking [Olfactory]) [7 PP] “Synthetic organism” [Biological] Swimming 2 (5mph or 44’/rnd) [2 PP] “Synthetic organism” Synthetic Cell Array (21 PP Array, Feats: Alternative Power 4) [25 PP] [Biological / Cellular] BP: Nauseate 10 (Extras: Contagious, Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Requires Grapple) [21/21PP] “Infect” AP: Healing 10 (Extras: Total, Feats: Regrowth, Flaws: Tiring) [21/21] “Regenerate” AP: Strike 10 (Extras: Alt Save [Fort], Vampiric, Feats: Incurable, Flaws: Requires Grapple)[21/21PP] “Cannibalize” AP: Nullify 10 (All mutation powers, Extras: Alt Save [+0, Fort], Disease [+2], Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Range [Touch], Requires Grapple) [21/21 PP] “Genetic shutdown” AP: Nauseate 10 (Extras: Area [Cloud], Contagious, Feats: Reversible, Flaws: Action [Full], Tiring) [21/21 PP] “Shed infected skin spores” Drawbacks Vulnerability (Acid, uncommon, Minor, +1 DC) [-1 PP) DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 23/25* Tough Damage (Staged) Infect Touch DC 25 Fort Nauseate Cannibalize Touch Dc 25 Fort Damage (Staged) *With Rage Active Totals: Abilities 86 + Skills 25 + Feats 17 + Powers 69 + Combat 48 + Saves 6 – Drawbacks 1 = 250/250PP

GM The Sphere sparkled and glowed a moment. Interestingly, its ambient light seemed to compliment its speech, in so much as it reflected what one presumed was its mood. With the complete absence of facial features to augment communication, the effect of light and sound together was impenetrable but soothing. "We will be most pleased to have you present at the opera" Sphere had arrived in a fast and sleek shuttle, without armour or weapons, simply designed to get from point A to point B as fast as possible (or, arguably, to bend space so that point A and point B where in fact the same), and to do so in comfort. One might imagine the Silver Bullet (for so it was named, thanks to its speed and hue) might also be designed to evade sensors and detection if one construed its architecture and materials as there for stealth rather than art. Nevertheless, it would be a quick and comfortable ride. "Would you do us the honour of providing transport?" asked Sphere. "We have some complimentary Oogian brandy, very rare and quite popular with organics I understand".

For This! Barrier and Paradigm contemplate life the universe and everything. In a literal space opera. Knowledge rolls [Galactic or Art] Lexa DC 20 DC 30 Nocturne DC 20 DC 30

GM CoVic Station The robot was an sphere of metal a few feet across, decorated with beautiful engraved patterns. It was a work of art. Literally. It was owned, and sculpted by the famous and eccentric Lor artist known as Lexa. She was a musician and performance artist, one of the best in the known galaxy, but obscure and erratic. Little or nothing had been heard from her the past few years, but now the galaxy was abuzz with the rumours that she was unveiling a new experimental opera called "The Night Flower" The Sphere ceremoniously and silently floated to Barrier and Paradigm. One could imagine it bowing, if a perfect sphere could do such a movement. Its voice was perfectly soft, low and rumbling, with a lovely inflection. "I am Sphere. Thank you for hospitality, dear friends. I have come at the behest of Lexa to invite you to the once only showing of The Night Flower, on the planet Nocturne. I hope you can represent the Praetorians, their noble history, their epic saga, and their everlasting philosophy"

Hi folks, For those who don't know, I am leaving the site, again. I can't say permanently, for nothing is eternal. Its been 13K+ posts, its been an awful lot of GMing, I'd probably say that I have been the most active GM on this site ever. Now is not the time for false modesty. I have been good, and I have been bad, and I have been everything in between. I left about 18 months ago. I popped back in, to chat, to get some help with an article I was writing. Everyone was very friendly and helpful, and thank you for that. Possibly unfortunately (in retrospect), I was persuaded (and this is no critique of the persuaders or persuasion) to come back. I have enjoyed my time back. But not enough. For those who you who I have spoken to over the years, you will be aware that I am of the view that we all have our own agendas, and sometimes they come into conflict. I find myself in a position of being in conflict with the general atmosphere and indeed direction of the site. Over the past few months, the changes and directions of the site have irritated me, and lead to a further divergence of agendas. This is not a snap decision, I have been teetering for months. I have other creative projects in mind and I have been torn up deciding which way to go in my life for that creativity. I realise that I can never treat this site as a more than a side project, and I don't think that's something that works very well here - at least not for me. Whilst I split my attention often, my heart must be in any project or creation pretty completely. Because I can't commit to this site, I don't feel valued. And if I don't feel valued, I can't commit. I have come to realise I am a coward at breaking up and ending things. Vexed, I have consulted the I Ching on two occasions over the last week. I am not supernaturally inclined, but I find its answers help disentangle a mind and heart in conflict. The answers I received where enlightening; firstly, that my creative endeavours would be productive and heartening if I chose to use them fully, and secondly, that my relationship with FCPbM was a "loveless marriage". On reflection, I think that means just as FCPbM is not particularly good for me, neither am I particularly good for it. To my friends and story tellers, my best. To the people I am currently in threads with, my apologies. To the people I have GMd for recently, I hope you had a good time Some of you have my email address or other ways of contacting me on the internet. Feel free to do so. Best, Supercape.

Is having that as a remote controlled power cutter ok? i.e. not to cut power now (which would I think be a straight craft roll), but to have a cutter at a press of a button?

"Ouch" muttered Flintlock under her breath. She had been shot before, and for all her sorcery, it was never a pleasant experience. She faded out of the line of site, concentrating on the spider, bending its phantasmal image from other dimensions, bending and dominating it. "Bhlwahaha..." it burbled, dribbling noxious salvia, and extending its horribly thin limbs to the walls, swinging just a little closer to the man. "Bhuublbuatell me, morsel, how fine is your meat? What stones do you crawl under? What are you dreams? I need to Bhwualahafeed...What meat shall you Bwhluaffeed me? Your thoughts? or your bwhabrain...." It licked it fats lips, all seven of them. Despite its nightmarish appearance, the spiders mouths were uncomfortably human...

Toughness: 1d20+10 26

Initiative: 1d20+3 9

Flintlock had no desire to rend the man with spectral hands, nor toss him in spectral winds. Well, not unless really needed. Drawing her flintlock, she closed her eyes a moment and summoned something... A bloated spider, tinted green and grey, bulbous, descended from an illusionary crack in the ceiling. It inflated like a mutated balloon as it did so, with soft purple fumes seeping from its body. The dread spider of :Leng, crawling through dreams and nightmares. On a single toxic thread it descended. Its body was fat and round, with waxy fat. Its limbs pencil thin, and several feet long. It crawled to just in front of the figures face, blind, but with several blubbered mouths dripping something awful with sharp humanoid teeth. "Blwhat....do you taste of? Bllwhoo are you?" it mumbled.

GM Echo may have been babbling and seeing things, but she could still see the real world. Sort of. One customer lurched out, and slapped her face. "Take that, Mrs. Mudworthy!" she screeched, before leaving the shop A few of the other customers were slowly coming to their senses, to various degrees of mortification proportional to their action. One elderly gentleman seem particularly disconcerted about the bikini top he had adorned. The man and the woman Echo had seen approached the shop cautiously, and with some justified caution given the screeching alarm and the madness therein. They had pulled out tasers as a precaution. The woman also had a beeping gadget in her hand, which seemed to indicate something was active. "Where did he go? Did you see him?" asked the man, looking around the room. Clearly he clocked that some of the crowd were barking mad, and he directed his question away from them. Echo, covered in sewer water and wearing a tin foil hat, was one of those he did not make eye contact with.

"Aye, that is a good question, so, to balance things out, I will give a bad answer" laughed Cap'n Flintlock. 'Twas unfortunate that Flintlock did not have one of those cameras. Especially the new ones that ran on bottled lightning. Electricity. Would have been most handy, she conceded. But she preferred old fashioned. "Take the boxes under the desk. They most probably hidden there for a reason. Anything that is placed away from eyes is the very thing that 'tis most interesting to see" she opined. She reached out to grab the maps she had seen. "And for these maps. Some have been marked. Interesting, I should bet..." she explained, scrunching them up as best she could. "If they not be sufficient, then we may need to return" she added. "But there may be a perilous thing yet. A little look at the sleeping man..." she suggested. If they could sneak back out, then creep into his room...well, what was to be lost? even if he awoke, his reaction might be interesting. And besides, summoning some spectre might be even more productive...man, woman, and child would often gable secrets to some ghost or horror...