Supercape

Gamma Buzz Baz crawled back unto land, not cold, but certainly wet. "Mizuki you got to teach me how to swim. I mean, I can dive into the water pretty cool, though, right?" He shook himself as he stood up. "Crazy guy!" he said, wagging a stubby finger at the man. "What happened? Did you jump, did you push? And... are you ok?" He looked ok, but Baz was half asleep during the first aid class. "I mean you must be cold, right?" Once again, Baz streamed his radioactive radiation into the ground, which started to glow green and warm...

Anyone want to go bluff / diplomacy / intimidate, feel free to make the rolls. no sense motive needed - the Chuggers clearly are guilty. They aint even pretending otherwise, they just arent admitting to anything!

GM The fat man laughed. "Geddalowdofthis! I ain't no sir, and I ain't no good neither." He spat on the ground. "Artifacts. Now we dont know nuthin about that. Sounds mighty fancy though, maybe you should go look in library or something?" The Chuggers laughed. At least the good cheer made them less trigger happy. "We just good old community motorcycle enthusiasts." He mopped his brow. "Although you do have a point about the heat. It ain't natural, thats for sure. What you know about it?" The suspicious eyebrows were raised once more, and hands moved a few millimetres nearer knives and pistols.

GM The Gold--- frothed! It seethed and spat and swirled and staggered. It was if the angry curse was actually trying to push back at Nightscale! Visions of slavery and vengeance, of pillaging and looting once again assaulted the young heroes brain. Angry and unpleasant and best - furious and revolting at worst. And yet, for all the psychic turmoil that lay in the Gold, the dragon's spell appeared to be working. It bubbled less, and the vortex-drill started to slow. With a final quiver of slumbering rage, the gold stopped moving at all. Sea water was still seeping in; up to the boots now, sloshing and cold (it was a cold night and a cold ocean!). It would be hard to guess when the ship would sink; not days, not seconds. The sea water sloshed a little higher. Rusty metal groaned. And the sound of gunfire from the docks grew louder.

Bingo!

Opposed power check please? I havent got Oroukous to hand on my laptop so can you trust me with a manual d20? Click-click-tappity-tap... 14

GM There were about a half dozen bikers lounging around. It was too hot for leathers. Tank tops and vests, jeans, dark glasses were the order of the day. A few gloves, poking around engines. Tattoos, plenty. The apparent leader of the Chuggers - or at least this group of them, was a dark skinned man with long hair and an impressive beard, both flecked with grey. He was bare chested, but fat. A closer look-and one would see that he was strong, as well. He had more than a few scars, and a knife at his belt that said he wasn't afarid to get more. A few of the others had guns, but it seemed that fists and knives were more fun to the Chuggers. The leader spat out on the dust below him. "You been looking for us. Why?" Professor Armitage hissed to Blackstaff, a low whisper. "I can protect myself against sorceries. But not bullets. I hope you can provide due protection..."

GO with heating and lighting the water up then (normal heat, sunlight). Green light, of course. INteresting; its an independent extra so once irradiated Baz doesn't need to keep it up. Normally- but with water I imagine the water will swish around and disperse the charged H20 molecules. So yeah, probably in that circumstances does have to keep it up!

Diving into to follow the man, although this is really Torpedo Lass's thing, so Baz is going to play second fiddle! If the water really is extremely cold, he could irradiate it (Environmental effect, Heat) Just a quick question - is it night / dark etc?

Gamma Buzz Baltazar hopped from foot to foot. "Sea!" "Man!" "Help!" The Cockroach kid didn't do well in water. He was not worse than any other kid, he just couldn't leap and cartwheel around like he could above water. He couldn't breathe underwater, or super swim. But the man was in trouble, so Baz really had no choice. The water was absolutely freezing, but at least that wasn't a problem for Baz, who was warmed by an internal nuclear furnace. "Oh well!" With a huge leap into the air, he dove into the water and started pounding the water with mighty Gamma Buzz arms!

Throwing a Fallout Bomb (from radioactive array) Not sure of the positioning here so whatever you feel works target wise. Trying to get Djinn and Geometer for starters. If he can get more, great. He can control the cloud area (And it will be a cloud, for better or worse!) from 1'-50' so I guess he will at least be able to get a couple in. Its a Nauseate (DC 15) effect with the contagious extra (once they glow green, then can nauseate anyone else who touches them!) Which may not be wise (although Baz is immune to all radiation effect), but then Radiation is dangerous, kids!

Gamma Buzz Baltazar only half understood what was going on. "Half" would have been generous. But he did know he was a puppet on a string, and it made him furious. Unless the puppeteer is making me furious? In which case, he better not be furious. Out of spite. Wait... unless the puppeteer has made me chose not be furious because I am a puppet and that makes me furious. He blinked, wondered whether the puppeteer had made him blink, and decided to put the whole philosophical mess in the bucket of "uh?". Relieved, he allowed himself to be furious again. His hands glowed green. In a second, a glowing green ball of gas formed between his hands. Supercharged radioactive air. Baz leant back and hurled it like a basketball towards what he guessed where the antagonists of the story (although he was fully expecting some switcharoo). In a furious puff, the ball exploded into a glowing green cloud. Little droplets of sparkling green light fell slowly to the floor like feathers.

That will do nicely; If you are up to it, you can narrate asking around for the Chuggers HQ (which is essentially a chop shop near the docks) - will take about an hour.

Just in case it provides any information - -IR vision on the Kid. Is the child the correct temperature? or is it a nuclear bomb enchanted with Vulcan magic?

Gamma Buzz With another leap and flip, Gamma Buzz was on one of the walls of a nearby building, peering at the most peculiar scene. His eyes glowed slightly; ready to stream out charged green particles-his amazing "laser" vision. Lawrence may have frozen a dinosaur, but to put the whole thing in context: a talking T-Rex had just stomped down a street. Anything could happen. Another day in Freedom City. And there was the kid. "What the flipping flip is happening?" he shouted at the Kid. "Going back where? Who are you?" The Kid might have been an andriod electro-bomb ninja, or something. Best to be alert! What was its temperature, for starters? Regular for a kid?

GM The noise came to abrupt stop. Squeaking came from below the Truck. The purple oil oozed through cracks in the road tarmac. John could smell the fumes; like vinegar, like poison. Whatever it was, he could feel the chemical seep ingo his body, lashing it somehow, but flailing hopelessly. Whatever the chemical was, it didn't work on dead men. Or men that had been dead. But it was seeping out of the truck faster and faster. And Bedlam never slept. Like a gunshot, three rats scuttled out of the bottom of the truck. Not normal rats, either! maybe two feet long, with hands and feet that looked suspiciously simian, with faces that looked suspiciously human. Gorilla - Rats! They were fast - rushing towards an alley filled with garbage...

Diamondlight August raised an eyebrow. They seemed to be doing a U-turn. He pressed one of his temples. This didn't seem quite right - he felt the same urge - a feeling that there was something he was missing. Some piece of the puzzle that would change the whole jigsaw. But he couldn't place it. On the tip of his tongue, on the tips of his fingers, but something he could neither digest nor grasp. At least the park was containing the threat. Probably. Were the detactives part of this? He kept the peculiar thought to himself, for now. "I don't like this," he mumbled as they walked. "Somethings amiss... I cant quite place it. But you two have the scent, so we must track it down. But... I feel like a mouse in a trap."

Notice roll (auditory) DC 20 The ship is sinking - but the hole is very small at the moment. Also, an HP each for me being nasty and throwing all types of stuff at you at the same time! Luke - Unharmed - 6 HP Chimera - Unharmed - 6 HP

GM The accursed mystical visions died down, leaving Chimera free of their intrusions onto her mind. Powerful impressions, though - easily recalled. Not hallucinations, but some deep memories. The Gold had a past, that was for sure. Moving between the continents to and fro, seeped in blood, traded for slaves and spears. Two sounds... The sound of water, gurgling, hissing, spraying. The smell of salt water. The gold had made the smallest of holes in the hull of the ship, and the ocean was clamouring for entrance. The sound of gunfire and grenades, dull but audible. Reverberating around the rust and steel of the ship. Somebody outside, on the pier, was engaging in a gunfight!

GM "Fifty bucks? Jee mister, thats a bunch o' Generous! You are alright..." He shivered more violently, his teeth now chattering. "I g-g-g-g-g-gotta go get that c-c-c-c-c-offeee!" The squeaking and scuttling below the trick intensified. John could smell petrol now, mixed in with that odd vinegar smell. Dark purple oil swilled from below the Truck, threatening to set ablaze. You would not want to drop a match here. The Fireworks factory was only two dozen feet away...

GM It was cold, it was true. A bitter winter breeze of a bitter city. And the rags did little to hold the heat in. The man was already shivering. "Cup of coffee would be swell," said the driver. And just a minutes walk away, John would be able to find some dive serving passable coffee. One thing about Bedlam - it was awake 24 hours a day. "But..." John picked up a smell, something like sour vinegar, coming from the truck. "Smell that?" said the driver. He shuddered, not just from the cold. "It... it screwed me up. I was transporting it. Couldn't resist having a look. Chemicals, or something. Made me... what... an animal?" There was the sound of Rats from under the Truck. Scuttling, squeaking. Rats were common enough in Bedlam, but these rats sounded... big... "SQUEAK!" It wasn't just a squeak. It sounded like a human saying the work "Squeak"...

CLOAK AND DAGGERED by THEV Very small edit: The Red Rat Going to focus her down to Freedom City Could you eliminate the Alternate HQ and Alternate Vehicles (Based in Emerald City and Bedlam) Could you eliminate knockout gas/defence system from the HQ This should free up 5 EP for Boot Knives (Strike 1, Feats: Thrown, Improved Critical 1, Mighty, Multiple Weapons 1) [5 EP] Because boot knives are super cool for a super spy.

GM Professor Armitage took off his tweed jacket and draped it over his shoulder. He linen shirt was already damp with sweat. "This heat... its unnatural. Global Warming? or something else... I am no meteorologist, but this smells more than just freak weather. Its not just the heat, either. Its the humidity..." He patted down his brow. "An inhospitable place, to be sure. I dont suppose either of you are skilled in survival techniques or jungle warfare? And before you ask, no. That is not in my array of academic pursuits. Although by the looks of this place I should probably have brought my revolver." "Or let me have that Golden Wreath again?" asked Dickens. "No!" said Armitage, firmly.

Diamondlight in Light Sleeping Prince Zoss pulled himself through the undergrowth. The brambles had already cut his regal clothes to shreds, and overhanging branches had frequently tried to snag his light silver crown. It now lay at a jaunty angle across his ruffled blonde hair. He looked very little like a prince; any passer by would think him some montebanc or actor, a beggar trying to pass himself off as a prince. I’m not a prince anyway… he thought, but that was in a different life, a different reality. He blinked, it was hard to think. How had he got here? He was meant to be managing Zoss enterprises and fighting supervillains. But every time he thought about that, the memories seemed greasy, evasive. It was so easy to slip into thinking he was a prince rescuing a princess. And he was – Prince Zoss rescuing the sleeping princess of legend. Everything here appeared asleep, from the bees to the birds, all deep in some slow slumber. They had, legend said, been sleeping a hundred years. The magic spell that had cursed the princess had spread to the wildlife. They did not look a day older than when they had dropped their heads into the centennial long sleep. Prince Zoss might have fallen to the same spell, if he had not brought the fabled magic diamond of Zoss. He held it tightly in his hand, feeling its warmth. Silver Blue light glimmered from between his fingers, testament to the great power of the gem. The diamond light. The sleeping princess was in a crumbling tower that looked suitably worn and tired. Vines and brambles covered every stone – missing or present. Prince Zoss put a hand to the stone, which was surprisingly warm. On withdrawal, the skin of his hand was red from welts and scratches, and already swelling. Soon, it felt just like a balloon. He wrangled his hand in the air, in a futile attempt to shake the poison out of his pores. If anything, the swelling got worse, but at least it did not spread. If it was not for the overgrowth, climbing the tower would be easy for the charming and athletic Prince Zoss – it was not high, and the stones were loose enough that there were plenty of cracks and holes. The only risk would be architectural collapse. But with the brambles and vines, climbing would be impossible, perhaps even dangerous. Prince Zoss needed to clear the way. What would he use? Wits? Charm? Bravery? No – he needed none of the above. For he had the diamond light, the magical Zoss gem that had been handed down from king to prince for ages. Nobody quite knew where it came from; legend said some hot jungle land in a distant continent, where the men and women flew in flying cars and had spears that spewed dragon breath. The legends were not kind to the Zoss of those times; thieves, scoundrels, warlords. But Prince Zoss of this tale was a charming prince, and a prince of charm was sure to be benign and wise as well as handsome. And humble, too, although he would be far too modest to mention his humility. The Zoss diamond could only be used by the royal Zoss line. He held the regal gem aloft, closed his eyes, and lets its light flow. Silver-blue energy crackled up and down his arm, enough to turn the skin of anyone but a true prince of Zoss into a cinder. Then, the handsome prince opened his eyes and directed the mystic energy. It erupted like a storm, sending writhing bolts of lightning up and down the tower. Some of the brambles were set alight. Most turned to ash, in the blink of an eye. Witchcraft and curses were no match for the merely magnificent might of the diamond light. That sounded like an epic poem line, noted handsome Prince Zoss. He hummed a few tunes, trying to get the metre, whilst starting the climb. With his hand swollen, it was not as easy as he had liked. A few loose stones gave him a panic, and more than once he worried that the whole tower would fall to pieces, crushing both him and the sleeping beauty in a pile of rocks. Nevertheless, he arrived at the top of the tower safely, even if covered in soot and panting. The sweat on his chest started to congeal with the ash, forming unpleasant globules. Together with the ragged clothes and swollen hand, Prince Zoss did not look so princely. Fortunately, he was so handsome and modest that he could pull it off. He hoped. The soporific princess lay aslumber on a four posted bed that had not aged. Of course, more brambles and weeds had taken root around the bedroom, and some bold shoots had even dared clamber up the bed, but it was if the flora dared not intrude too deeply into the abode of the princess. Maybe it was the curse, or some reverence for the beauty. For a beauty she was; dressed in fine silks that were untouched by time, simple silver earings, her flaxen hair in braids, her skin without blemish, bar some light freckles that seemed to augment, rather than detract from her fair complexion. Yes, a beauty she was, no man (or woman) could deny. And nor could Prince Zoss. Now – the awkward part. The Legends said that the princess could only be woken by the kiss of a prince. And there, readers, lay the rub. Prince Zoss was an old fashioned – or perhaps new fashioned – kind of Prince. Kissing a sleeping princess rankled, for it would be done without her assent. Quite the conundrum. The Prince paused, enthralled by her beauty, yes, but weighing up the merits and morals of his next move. It rankled, most certainly, but if he weighed up his action, he reasoned that the sleeping beauty did not, in her current circumstance, have capacity to either consent or not consent to a kiss. And she would not, he reasoned, wish to spend eternity locked in sleep. Pleasant? Perhaps. But dreams could also be nightmares. And would any sane human wish to spend no time awake. It was a vexatious question of philosophy. Maybe the solopist would argue that we are all in a dream anyway, so what did it matter? Perhaps these questions, these actions, were all part of a dream, or even a short story posted in some kind of electronic format. He shook his head. Such meandering and mulling did not belong in this tale. He should kiss her and wake her. And in any case, her lips were plump and red, and it would be rude not to. “Cor blimey, I weren’t ‘alf sleepy luv…” said the Sleeping Beauty. “Errr….” Prince Zoss spoke a variety of European Dialects, as befitted a man of education. But he had never heard a Princess speak like that. She sounded quite common, in fact. “You look well fit…” she continued, licking her lips. Quite common indeed. “I am Prince Zoss, come here to save you from an evil hag’s curse…” he started. “Stop your gobwagging and give me another kiss. And get undressed, I fancy a sh---” “Ahem! Just one moment…” There was no room for such adult shenanigans in this tale, at least, not shenanigans that can be seen or told. So, with a jaunty wink of his eye, Prince Zoss turned your camera to the flapping silk curtains, and naught could be seen of the locking of lips and, well… use your imagination….

GM As it happened, the gold could be eaten. It almost wanted to be eaten. It responded to Chimera's touch eagerly, seeping into artificial pores and through artificial skin. There was plenty of gold to swallow, and once half had been sucked up, Chimera started to experience visions... Visions of graves, of funeral pyres. African warriors and Kings, trading gold with the Europeans, soaked in blood of war and slavery... ...Of cheap and shallow graves of the Slaves in the colonies... ...of Conquistadors in search of Lemurian gold... ...of Swamps and Marshes, ruled by a Hag, a sorcerous Hag casting curses on gold... ...of the Dead, burned alived from molten gold... It made little or no sense, and Chimera could feel the fringes of her sanity under assault. But one thing was certain, the gold was cursed, and the dead followed it. And the other half of the gold continued to drill down to the ocean. Slower, to be sure, but given enough time... What would absorbing all of the gold, all of the curse, cost Chimera?