Supercape

GM "Green AND Red! See, I knew you had a festive spark in you! Balloons, baubles... and snow! Yes. we need snow! Whats Christmas without snow?" giggled Mr Dickens. Balloons sprouted out of thin air, and, as per Golden Star's advice, they were both green and yellow. A few cheers went up from the crowds below. And then the snow! Glistening, white, shiny - imperfectly probable snow poured forth from his fingertips, leaving a trail of blizzard behind them as they flew. This, it seemed, did not cause as much cheer, except from children. Fortunately nobody drove very fast in the shopping season of Freedom City, and the crunches of cars colliding and sliding were mercifully low impact. The horns, the curses, and the occasional fight broke out. And the kids laughed and threw snowballs at each other. "What a pretty sight!" laughed Mr. DIckens. "Look, its pretty as a picture!" he commented as they flew southwards. Continued in Curse of the Swamp Hag

24

GM "That's right!" nodded a manic Mr Dickens. "You can't fool me because I am too clever. And furthermore, I am to clever to be fooled. Whatsmore, the reason I cant be fooled is because I am to clever, and my cleverness prevents you from fooling me. Ha! Full points to me, I think!" he yammered, voice getting more frantic with every word. "I want to go to Professor Armitage's house! Its not far. Just fifty miles south of Freedom City, 66 Golem Drive. Quite swish! Its got curtains, and everything! He knows what to do with real power!" He frowned. "No diamonds at all! Bah! Well, no diamonds then! But i will create a sea of balloons! Thats festive! Green or Red, what do you think?"

Gamma Buzz Baz didn't dress up. He couldnt afford it, and besides, most tailors didn't accomodate his physique. Armour plates tended to screw things up, for starters. So, it was a red (festive) t shirt and jeans. And he was green. Green was festive! "Hey hey, its Gamma Buzz, Baby!" he said, firing two green laser beams from his eyes into the sky. "Full of festive cheer! Mulled wine and cake! Yummageddon!" He looked around for festive treats. He was hungry enough to eat a rat. And he could, to, with his stomach. "So what do we do now?" he asked Lawrence. "I mean, what would make us look really cool? Not that we aren't cool. I mean obviously we are cool. PhD in Cool studies. But what would make us look cool?"

GM The Professor patted his pockets. "A hand written note? Is this some divination spell?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you mean... do I know where he is? Forgive me, the nuances of eldritch practice escape me. I know plenty about the occult, mythology, history, the theory. But the practice escapes me." He emptied some of his tweed jackets pockets ont othe table in front of him. There was an antique mobile phone (which did have Mr Dickens number on it, but alas, the professor explained there was no answer). There were some sweets, a pipe, tobacco, a notebook full of barely legible scrawlings and ideas (including the address of Blackstaff investigations), and a yo yo. And a hand written note from Mr. Dickens. "Going to be busy next few days - leave a message if you need me. TD" "Is this the kind of thing that would help with your divinations?" asked the Professor. "I am no expert on the casting of spells, but I understand - from a historical perspective you see - that an item of the target helps with scrying and so forth?"

GM And into the lurid lake they jumped. It was water - that much was clear. But it was water in the way that sparkling mineral water was water. Bubbles that went up your nose and a fresh, clear texture. No normal lake would be so gloriously free of grime, dirt, sediment. No normal lake would have glowing fishes that swam past your face singing an opera. And singing it well, too. This was a lake, squared. Bernadette had correctly deduced that sound travels differently underwater, and so the Musical Antibodies (the two that remained) merely danced on the surface, quite unsure what to do. The only problem was that the assorted gang had to breathe underwater. And... They could! "Hey! I can breathe underwater!" yelled Summer, spluttering and gulping at the same time. "This water is very refreshing! You could bottle it and sell it for a fortune!" agreed the Duke.

Absolutely - they are essentially helpless at the moment. Moving an inch a second (as an explanation)

Captain Cosmos It was a tempting offer. Buddy weighed up the deal. On the one hand, Bear Knuckle was a dangerous villain, and merely letting him go would be opening up the doors to chaos to come. But on the other hand, a girls life was in the balance right here, right now. He chewed his tongue trying to wrap his head around the delicate balance. Ultimately, he chose what he considered the selfish option. The girl. He couldn't live with himself if the girl came to harm. Sure, he could try and smash up Bear Knuckle right here, right now, and hope that Bear Knuckle would keep to his word. But would he? Who knew what that collar had in store, what was going on behind the scenes? And the kicker... would Bear Knuckle keep to the new deal? He decided to exert more leverage. "No deal," he said bluntly. "I could just drop you right here, right now, and I win the fight, and took out a supervillain as a bonus. So you aren't offering me anything." He paused. "Unless...." Here it came. "Unless you offer me something more than that kid's life. Like who set this all up? I'll give respect to your fists, big respect. You should have been a vigilante, not a crook. But your brains? You haven't got the patience to set something like this up. So spill the beans!"

GM "Carrying? pfah!" The Man in Orange squirmed his forehead, trying to wrap his head around the bamboozling word-play of Golden Star. "Are you being... whats the word... fillo-sofyikal?" he asked, lips quivering with the effort of mastering abstract thought processes. "Bah! You're just trying to trick me! Well, let me tell you, sucker, nobody tricks Mr Thomas Dickens! You ain't fooling me into revealing my name... wait... uh.... dang!" Bored and frustrated with Golden Star, Mr. Dickens (for it is he) shouted down to the crowd. "Murder! Arson! Whoever saves me gets a free Diamond as big as a a truck!" "And here's a taster!" he added. Lo, from his finger tips, a small rain of small diamonds started to fall...

GM Gold! Gold! Everywhere was Gold! The Cargo crate was now gleaming gold! The Golden Dead were gold! Enough Gold present to warp the minds of Midas himself. Enough Gold to distort world economics. The Golden Dead's fists struck the grinding floor. Gold was considerably softer than steel, even rusted steel. The Gold buckled and deformed under the impact of powerful fists, still threatening to fall apart and drop them all to the bottom of the ship, but for now, it looked more like puckered putty. The Golden Dead themselves seemed to slow, seem to flow, until one could no longer see where the golden crate and the flowing gold over their skin began or ended. The gold had merged into one. The undead moved at a glacial place now, as if stuck in the stickiest mud, the new gold merging with the old and flowing over their body.

Ok - so sorry I have been slow The Transform works, and has unexpected effects! (as per IC) We can temporarily drop out of combat

Captain Cosmos Ignoring (for the moment), Bear Knuckle, Captain Cosmos flew straight up, like a rocket. He could ascend faster, by transgressing normal dimensional status, but that was not something he was prepared to his mind through right now. And hopefully Bear Knuckle was going to capitulate soon. Because, quite frankly, Buddy felt his rage building. Bear Knuckle was an odious bully, and Buddy felt like smashing his brains out. But firstly, he thought that it would be hard to hit such as small target, and secondly he knew where his own rage came from. His father was a bully, and that bitter rage still lived in Buddy. He had to bite his lip. "Knuckles, if you don't let that girl I am going to drop you. Or maybe fly you into space where you can freeze and your insides turn inside out from the vaccuum. You can sure fight, but you can't fly. Maybe I'll do both. Now let that girl go and we can talk. Because otherwise it might be real hard to breathe, one way or another...."

Ok, well Captain Cosmos is going to maintain grapple as move action and move up as standard action (flight)!

GM "What? Just cos its correct doesnt mean its right? What kind of ham-fisted, dyspraxic logic is that?" gasped the Man in Orange. "How about this?" he added, still squirming against the iron grip of Golden Star. "Just because you are grappling me, doesn't mean you are holding me! Muahahaha! Hows about that then! And, therefore and thusforth, verily and forsooth, you have to release me! Ispo Facto, Logicus ad logicum, I have trapped you in your own reasoning!" He squirmed again. "Come on, I just trapped you with your own logic? So let me go, will ya! Or I will... or I will spray diamonds all over Freedom City! Diamonds as big as your fist, hows that for Merry Christmas!" A cheer went up from the crowd. "Keep holding him! We want those diamonds!" Then the chant to a slow clap. "DI-MONDZ! DI-MONDZ! DI-MONDZ....!"

Gamma Buzz "Ah.. I know hes your father and all that. Respect your parents and hail mary..." said Baz, reflexively tapping his armoured plates in the style of a crucifix. He didn't know what to believe, theologically speaking, but until he worked it out, he was going to play safe and not antagonise the man upstairs. Catholicism still ran in his veins, along with radioactive insect-blood. "...but still, sounds a bit... ah draconian?" he asked, tentatively. "How does he feel about you and your ball?" he asked. He imagined a strict, stern father ready to clip a boy around the ear. But then, Baz grew up in Mexico and clips round the ear were commonplace where he grew up. Not that where he grew up was representitive of Mexico, more like representative of the cess pit of Mexico.

GM "His contact details? Therein, as Mr. Shakespeare would say, lies the Rub..." said the Professor, stroking his trimmed beard. "He is a cautious man, as befits his... ah... skill set. He carries no communication device, no telephone, no pager, not even an arcane listening cystral. He works alone. I appreciate, even admire, his independent spirit, but when things go wrong - as they surely do - we all need a hand from time to time. Like me, now, for instance. I suppose I am a proud man, and not immune the seductions of hubris, but I do at least know when I need help." The Professor gazed at the room, and the eldritch trappings and happenings. "I would imagine this is a job for a magician... for magic!"

Gamma Buzz Baz shuddered. "Wait... this sounds dangerous. I didn't sign up to be a superhero recklessly leaping into almost certain death if it meant dying!" He hopped from foot to foot. "I'm too young to die, so it must be ok. Phew! Thats a relief!" he gabbled. "I mean I don't know about Nanotech an all that. Sounds pretty small if its got nano in it. Like... like you know how adding the word Quantum in front of something makes it sounds cool? Must be like that. Maybe its Quantum Nano Tech. That would be seriously cool. No. Wait. Would that mean that the amount of coolness is really small... hmmm?" He stroked his antenna. "In any case I am sure the youth... thats us, by the way, can handle anything! We got this!"

Gamma Buzz "My joints feel like Beelzebub has put me through his grinding machine..." complained Baz. "I mean, I know the dangerous isn't that dangerous. But being thrown about like that? DIslocates my arms and legs." He squirmed, and swung his joints around. They worked. But they were sore. "Lawrence is right. We will get better! Tactics, teamwork, and the Slowball Slam! I am sure that will be a great tactic once we perfect it. And...err.. work out what it actually is." He gave a little tapdance and twirl. Clickity click as his armoured plates scated along the floor. "We are going to kick ass!"

Diamondlight "The other... whatever's out there. Indeed..." "May I suggest you keep a perimeter?" he asked. "The Park needs to be clear, and the roads around it. Maybe even the a block around it. We have almost no idea what we are dealing with." He turned to Luke. "You, young man, are about our best shot at finding what it is, and where it is." August paused, raising an eyebrow in thought. "The real question is why it is... why here? why now? why the murders?" He shrugged. "But I guess we find that out when we find the... what did you say? the whatever's out there. About the best way to put it, I think."

that said, Blackstaff has a HQ with a (presumably arcane) library so he can take 20 on Arcane Lore and get a much higher result (by spending requisite hours)

I think its in the realms of "Heard of it / Rings a bell" but nothing specific.

Not much, no! Curses are done by Witches Witches do curses But nothing specific

Captain Cosmos "What, so you can headbutt me? Let you go so you can cut me up? I though you wanted a fight? Or do you think I am a stupid as you? Not easy to be that idiotic, you moron!" Captain Cosmos gave a mocking laugh. He didn't really want to taunt a dumb animal, it felt wrong. But Knuckles was stronger than he would have liked, and he had an animal ferocity to go with it. The fight wasn't done till he had won it. Or lost it. Yes, he could still loose it. But he pressed his advantage, crushing Knuckles with his arms from behind, exerting his full force. Hoping that would enough to defeat the villain-but far from sure.

So for next round Captain Cosmos will maintain grapple and then crush (DC 30 Toughness check)

GM The crowd was mixed, and had a mixed reaction. There was little appetite for helping the man, but many were on their phones - saying what? who could say. There was plenty of appetite for scooping up golden coins, but not all did. If one was homeless, cold and hungry it was quite the gift, and one could understand the greater good of economic stability was a weak argument against the demands of cold skin and empty stomach. And not all who collected the doubloons were in such dire straits. Some wanted to give their children a proper christmas, and, yes, some wanted it out of pure greed. There was no appetite at all to disperse quietly. What risk was there? Other than being struck by gold falling from the sky. And it was quite the spectacle, even by the high standards of the citizens of Freedom City. "See?" said the Man in Orange. "Delight always wins! Why be such as stick in the mud? Come on, join the festivities! I could turn your automobile into a platinum plated car studded with diamonds as big as your fist? What say you?"