Supercape

GM M was in a relaxed posed on the other side. It was a very similar mansion to Steam Manor, but more antiquated or anything. M was being served tea by a butler, whilst a scribed kept notes on everything he said. Two men in starched suits and bow ties stood at ease. No doubt his bodyguard, probably from the Special Zepplin Squad - the SZS had the best fighting men in the dimension. "Ah there you" he said, standing up and dusting of some scone crumbs. M looked perhaps a bit more thinning, perhaps a bit more rotund of waist, and perhaps a bit more lined with worry. But he still had a genuine smile on his face. Despite his soft appearance, the man was fiercely smart, and his eyes could not conceal it. "Well, if I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it!" he said, putting down his tea and studying Cannonade. "The leader of the Cannonites! Your face is plastered half way across London, sir. It adorns every issue of The Cannon of Justice, that appalling rag they produce. Not a perfect match of course, clearly memory and desire failed and filled in respectively. Your jaw not as square, your eyes not as sparkling, but a hero nonetheless! welcome back to Earth Victoriana!" he said, with genuine pleasure. He offered them seats and continued. "Now, I don't know how much that unscrupulous rotter Lockwood has told you. We are a few weeks away from a general election here, and somehow the Luddites have found some magic potion. All their candidates are storming ahead, and all the main parties have somehow been caught stealing, adultering, defrauding, or - if none of the above, just tripping over their tongue and gaffing every speech they make. And we haven't found anything. Something is up, I tell you..." he moaned.

GM "Secret conversations in old drawing rooms?" smiled Lord Steam. "My dear, you have all the makings of a world-class spy!" he laughed. "I can see why M likes you. Give the old fart my regards, won't you?" he smiled, standing up and bowing to them both. He walked up to the grandfather clock, and fiddled with the time hands, which clicked...letting the clock swing open to reveal a mass of pipes, wiring, and - yes - odd puff of steam, and a treacle-finish swirling mirror. "He's on the other side, when you are ready!" he explained. "I'll just go and take a stroll. Toodle pip old bean!" he said, doffing his top hat to Cannonade, before tucking his silver headed cane under his arm and striding out with his long legs.

"Damned if I know, old bean!" said Steam, finishing his tea. "M has more details. And probably more details than he cares to share with you, or anyone else. The man has the mind of an octopus, tentacles everywhere" he said, slightly irritated. "What I do know is that the Luddites have a splinter group, the Cannonites. Guess who they are named after? They took your words quite seriously in that little speech, and are a moderate group. Which made the original Luddites even more nasty. The oikes!" he said, clearly no fan of them. "Which would be quite manageable, but what concerns us is that the Luddites are putting up candidates for the next election. Mainly in London. And they are extremely well funded. And they are winning. Well, that's no a problem for a democracy, but M smells something fishy. The other candidates are lacklustre, losing every debate, getting involved in scandals, and having dirt on them dished out like it was a five star restaurant....all politics, I know, but the pattern here is beyond the normal social pugilism" he explained. "I suspect M wants you to mobilise the Cannonites and use your influence to see exactly what has happened. Its a bit of a weight on your shoulders, old bean, and probably as dirty as you would expect coming from a spymaster who is responsible for a quarter of the world, but if M smells something fishy, you better expect something to smell rotten!"

GM Robert gave velocity a worried look. "I you sure you trust him?" he whispered into her ear. "I mean...it...well, whatever he is..." he said concerned. "The whole thing with out son...it's....well....personal..." he gulped. He looked ill, sweating despite the cold air that had blasted them. He Steed looked at them all and sauntered over, managing a convincing model walk despite being encased in thermal jackets and leggings and gloves. "The Ruskies sure now how to make warm clothing!" she commented, patting her clothes down. "I just hope that spandex keeps you warm, sweetheart!" she said to Megan, giving her a saucy wink. "Lets worry about what goes boom and whizz when we find it, huh?" she said patting the prototype fragment in her jacket. "I'll keep this one safe and sound, don't you worry!" Robert gazed at her chest, but not for her figure. He wiped his brow as his gaze penetrated to the bulge of the prototype fragment in her coat.

"This is the place" said Harry, scrawling up the note paper and stuffing it in his mac, which was a rumpled as his shirt, loose tie, and hair. He had half a mind to burn the note, his mind conflicted about whether it would be evidence, and if it would be used for or against him. "Reminds me of being a kid!" smiled Freddy, admiring the run down old building. "Where I got learned about the no-bel-art-of-pyoo-jel-ism..." he spoke slowly. "And may you never forget it!" replied Harry, constantly pleased at his partners shield of muscle over his own cowardly heart. As the quartet entered, he plucked up his courage - bolstered by the three capably fighters he was with. "Hello, hello?" he called out - loudly, but not too loudly. "Is Carl here?"

Thats cool, Thev. No need to be to dice-like about that, feel free to narrate a few rigged devices, like firework explosions, or gas mains being let loose - I leave the details up to you as its more the appertisers to the main event!

GM "We have all the security footage here..." explained the Mayor as he sat down by his computer and punched a few a suitable keys. "Ah! Modern Technology, you swine!" he smiled as he stabbed the keyboard in frustration, trying to pull up the data files. He was not a complete technophobe, but he lacked any grace on the computer. "Here we are! We have not gone through it all yet, but its the same story...or rather, a different story every time. Pickpocketing, fires, gassing, drunken brawls, food poisoning, the list goes on. One particularly odd one where a brass band had LSD laced to their instruments" "A very original sound, sir..." said the police officer, trying to stifle a giggle as the cacophony played on the computer.

OK, Reviewing the security footage: Give me a straight INT roll to put it together. DC 10 DC 20 Thev: Megan can whip around searching the incidents herself with her speed and taking 20. She is certainly fast enough! However, there is no pattern to the incidents and they are all rather variable. You can collect DNA traces of who might be there, but its not particularly helpful other than to say there is no particular one individual doing all of the crime.

GM "Ho! What is this and who are you?" said the surprised Mayor at Foreshadow's Entrance. "Foreshadow" said Lady Brazil, speaking for the first time. Her voice was rich and slow, full of timbre and wisdom. Scrutinising her behind her mask, the woman was perhaps in her late thirties, or older. Full of life and vigour and with a handsome bronzed olive face and rich black hair that sprawled to her shoulder behind her mask. Whatever her age, her physique was virtually perfect, lithe and strong, and her spandex costume fitted it well, both modest and immodest at the same time. She knew her superheroes, that was for sure. "I have heard of you, and your predecessor. If you can see into the future, then perhaps you can direct us where to go?" she asked politely. "Gah! A revolt?" gasped the Mayor in almost a shriek. "What next, Civil War? Brazil cannot afford such histories! We are a democracy!"

NB: TiffK, the Admiral is using an Atlantean Power ring to control the weather. Technically Blod can detect magic, but I was never sure in my head if this was magic or some kind of divine sea god descriptor. In the end, and to keep suspense and surprise, I decided to award you that mystery HP above and keep it hidden. I hope this is ok. If you want to narrate some fluff for how she missed it, you have complete license to do so, otherwise I will just say its some kind of divine Cthullu-esque descriptor.

Ok so we fall back to action! First off, the Admiral is more than he seems! A lightning bolt from the sky crashes in on Blod. His attack roll is: 1d20+12=30, meaning the lightning strikes the poor woman, and its a DC 23 Toughness save. This is a surprise attack. Could I have initiative rolls from you guys again, as you now have to deal with the Admiral. To Recap on status: Blod - 2 HP - unharmed - On Deck Tsunami - Bruised - 2 HP - Fatigued - Underwater Crimson Tiger - Bruised - 4 HP - On Deck (Wherever you would like to narrate yourself, Thunder) 23 - The Admiral - Bruised - On Deck 1d20+8=23 for the Admirals Initiative

GM Whilst the fiery deck of the Prince Edward showed no signs of dying down, despite the rain and wind, the ship itself groaned and twisted, yawing terribly and spinning on its axis. Slowly it ground to a halt, and then started pulling away from the Naval Base. The captain sprang to his feet and gripped the side of the ship, before turning to Blod. "What is this? What is this? This is not possible!" he wailed. "What force have you conjured to snatch my victory from me! Tell me! Tell me know!" he demanded of the Welsh woman. He raised his fist to the sky, and at his command, a bolt of lightning leapt from the sky to crash on the deck...

Looks good to me!

Rene waited until their leader had left before turning to face his would be assassins. "Do not be fooled, sirs!" he started, drawing up his full height and giving them a stern look. "I am a master of powerful sorcery! By the seven flames of..errr...." He juggled his mind to come up with some suitably preposterous and fantastic name. "By the seven flames of King Juju, that's right, King JuJu...and...um...the dark moon of ...errr....Fulmigator the Magnificent!" He paused, gauging the effect. "I will eat your bullets and transform them into...errr...toads! and stuff them in your ears!!!!" he finished in a crescendo of trumpeting vocals.

Well I shall go for a probably ineffective intimidate! 1d20+2=3[/url Well and truly ineffective!

GM "Orchestrated?" mused the Mayor, rubbing his eyes, cigarette still in hand. "But why? what is going on? and how is it going on?" he muttered, as the police captain by his side looked on, quiet and meek. "So far it has been the edges, the fringes of the carnival" he explained, gesturing to the map on his desk. The map was large, covering the desk and more, and in it where markers of incidents. They were scattered in a fairly random way, but clearly formed a circle around the main event. "So what do we do? Try and fire fight the perimeter, or concentrate on making sure there is not some grand finale in the centre? there is no right decision here..." he frowned. "The main bands and fireworks are set for 9pm thats..." he consulted his watch "...about 2 hours from now. We have that long to..how you say...nip in this in the bud?"

Post away! That will stop the ship, or even reverse it a little if you so wish - although it will tie up your array.

That sounds like an opposed power roll to me! Versus: 1d20+10=30 Yoikes!

Cool. So, we have the Admiral gloating, and a flaming ship being swept into the FC Naval base. You are all up!

Well I guess Rene's initiative is called up! 1d20+5=9 He will act as soon as the leader leaves.

GM "I thank you for your help, madam, and gentlemen!" said Santo, wiping his perpetually perspiring brow. "It doesn't help that our chief of police, a man who knew these streets and its ways better than anybody, is now in intensive care" he explained, drumming his cigar nervously. "It all feels a most unfortunate set of misfortunes!" he groaned. "Any help would be appreciated, Sir" he said to Erick "Any from what I hear about you, Sir, any medical experience would no doubt be much appreciated by our services. Our hospitals are excellent, but we can't get to anybody tonight...the streets are jammed beyond our wildest imaginations!" He bade the two men goodbye, ignorant of their other identities. "As for you, Madam, your speed will aide us! May I ask you to help Lady Brazil, the cities protector, in helping? I know it is a lot to ask, but I implore you!" "The wider problem is not firefighting each separate crisis, but finding out what the hell is happening!" he sand, angry at once, and thumping his battered leather desk. "Calm down, dear" purred his wife, stroking his back comfortingly. "The people are depending on you! You must help them!"

GM There was indeed a flashing light on Velocities (or Megan's) phone. A message that Robert was ok. But was the Carnival? It was dated only five minutes previously, as the three heroes (or their alter ego's) were being fawned over by pen pushers in the Mayor's office. Message from Robert Harrow

Ok you can use Knowledge (Popular Culture) or (Current Events) to know about the lady in spandex. DC 10 DC 20 DC 30 In addition, DC 20 Behavioural Sciences Check DC 25 Behavioural Sciences

GM The Police Chief coughed, spluttered, and jolted upright. "You saved my life, Senor!" he said, weakly, kissing Tyrone's hand. His English was good, but not perfect. "What is happening here?" he asked, before some of the policemen around his started swarming around him, talking to him in high speed, mopping his brow, and keeping him upright. The man was rumoured to be corrupt, but he was popular even so. And his officers clearly liked him - or perhaps were intimidated by him. Or perhaps both. The man was ill, nevertheless, wheezing and wan. He probably had pneumonia, a collapsed lung, and who knows what damage from his cardiac arrest. But he seemed at least roughly coherent of speech. He turned to Megan, Erick, and Tyrone. "Americano's! I thank you for your aide. But I hear that something is sweeping the carnival into chaos from my men. Please...see the Mayor, at once. Tell him what has happened....we must stop this before the city erupts into the flames of riots!" A little later, the Mayors Office... was smoking a cigar and nervously looking at a map of Rio with a senior police officer when the three "Americano's" where ushered in. To one side stood his wife, Sandra Santo, looking out at the Carnival and drinking a deliciously aromatic coffee. On another, stood a tall and powerful woman, dressed in Spandex and decorated with the colours and flag of Brazil. In her hand she carried a flag pole and flag of Brazil. She gazed at the three Americans with a totally unreadable and neutral face. "Ah! The Americans! You, at least, have helped stem the tide of chaos that grows in the city! Incidents, fires, fights, theft, chaos! chaos! everywhere!" he moaned, wiping his brow scarred with lines of worry. "You, I know! Velocity, from the freedom league! You have my thanks, and, I confess, my plea for your aide. I don't know what going on, what thread intertwines all of this madness. But it creeps, creeps and grows! It is evening now, and the party is in full swing. It will be a disaster!" he gulped.

Huzzah! Post away!