Supercape

GM "Never needed one, toots. Barrel of a gun and a knuckle sandwich always did jes' fine for me!" replied the crime lord as he lay sprawled on the floor. "Look, toots" he whispered "there is always another option, you know. That hiatian, he's even worse than me. Dabbling in the unspeakables, raising the dead, terrible zombies. No offence, honey, of course. We could pounce him, use his door?" He looked at Revenant with a wink and then hopeful eyes. "Whaddya say?"

GM The Next Day, In the Texas Free State... "Yee Haaar! A rootin tootin Texas welcome to y'all! welcome to the Texas Free States!" "Never mind him" said McSaunders. It would have been nice to have got an official welcome, but McSaunders had set the Zepplin down on the outskirts of Austin, next to some beat up old bar, horses, and one clapped out horseless chariot, in the middle of a field. Their welcome was from a total drunk, who collapsed as soon as he had said it. He looked like a cross between an English gent with bowler hat and mexican bandito with stubble and six-guns. He snored loudly in some hay that the horses were chewing on. "We have an arrangement with the bar-owner here. Its the closest thing we have to a spy outpost. They may have some information..." he gestured to the bar, called Gunsmoke. It looked like a salloon in the wild west. "The bartender, O'Connell, is Irish, and loyal to the empire. Well, loyal enough when we pay him sterling gold, that is, the thieving Celt. Anyway, you can get some horses or try to get that old car working. Take you into Austin proper, the less uncivilised parts that is. We have an embassy there, although fat lot of good that will do. I'll stay here and tend to the Zepplin, maybe have a drink in the Gunsmoke. The rest is up to you, Gentlemen and Ladies..."

Omen - 1 HP - Unharmed!

Vignette: Lord Steam: 17th July 2011 Ia Ia Archeville fhtaghn! “I tell you M, its madness here!†“Are you sure you aren’t quite mad yourself, Sir?†Lord Lucien Lockwood wound up the particularly byazantine and antiquated copper-plated phone in his office to boost reception. Interdimensional communication required a lot of steam, and the tubes that curled away to his laboratory hissed with pressure. “I’m quite sure, dammit. You can send one of those Vieniesse quacks over, if you want, for all the good those gibbering fools do. Dead rising from the graves, no less. Gargantuan monsters, mass insanity. Almost biblical in flavour, by Vishnu. Nothing happening over there, is it?†“Just the normal. Texas shooting off a bit more loudly, Vatican scheming, Russia falling into Chaos, Germany rattling its sabre, and France... Well... France being France. Insufferable devils. If only their food wasn't so blasted fine. Thank Victoria for India" Replied M, who had put down his tea. It was now stone cold. For all his flippant remarks about Lord Lockwood’s incompetence, he had no doubts about the man’s intellect and astuteness. He conceded it matched his own. The situation seemed serious over on that dimension. Serious enough he would have to wake the Foreign Secretary. “Look, for God’s sake, keep an eye out on things over there, will you†he asked massaging his forehead. “Last thing we need is zombie plagues. Especially if they spread to this dimension. Keep me updated. I’ll draw up contingency plans with the cabinet if those damn colonial yanks in that ridiculous dimension of yours can’t contain things. Perhaps some evacuation plans are in order. Ms. Wells thinks she might be able to propel an Ironclad through to your dimension, at some risk, I might add, if they need a few Gatling Guns in support. “ With that, M, placed the phoned down. He would have liked to have slammed it, for he was angry. But his anger was tempered by real concern. Good Gods, what was going on there? Back on Earth Prime! Lord Steam hopped into Bessie, his car. What a mess, indeed. The whole world, it seemed, was going to pot. All sense of normality, reason, and even the laws of science seemed to be breaking down. He patted Bessie. “Thank Vishnu you are still normal and obey the laws of science!†he said as the steam powered car whistled away at over 200 miles per hour towards Freedom City. His meeting was with a Mr. Schwarzkrieg, a United Nations official with whom he had met once or twice. Schwarzkrieg was his point of contact in his role as official inter-dimensional ambassador. “So, the British Government…that is, our British Government…†he corrected himself “…from Earth Victoriana…†(he spared a thought for the British of Earth Prime, no doubt wrestling with the undead and insane wandering through Europe as they spoke) “would like to offer assistance, and, er, press upon you the importance of regular updates, in order to prevent the possibility, of, um, contagion, between said dimensions…†Lord Steam was as diplomatic as possible. But he was uncomfortable. True, it was his job to do, and he was loyal to Earth Victoriana and M, but he had, it must be said, grown to be deeply fond of this crazy Colonial Dimension, and the insensitivity of his duties pained him. He wanted to help. Sending an Earth Victoria Ironclad Gunship through might not be a bad idea after all. “Fnaah! Ia Ia!†gibbered Schwarzkrieg. “Guards! Shoot this man!!!†Lord Steam sighed internally. He should have paid more attention. The nervous tic of the left eye. The Banana sandwich, half eaten…. the German Surname. Why was he always getting shot at? And of course, one didn’t attend a meeting at a UN building with body armour on. His reactions were fast. Faster than the surprised guards, who would no doubt follow the orders, but were still rather wide eyed at the command. He threw his tea at one, and a well heeled shoe crashed into the knee of another, unbalancing him into the fist of Lord Steam. He turned and wheeled, hefting a chair into his hand and throwing it into the arm of the first guard, who was just pulling up his gun after wiping tea from his eyes. A few long strides, and another kick into the first guards stomach sent him into the wall. Lord Steam followed up with an efficient pair of straight punches clipped around the mans head, knocking him out. “Tk Tk! Ia! Ia!†yelled Schwarzkrieg. The insane dignitary had crept up behind the Victorian polymath and now seized his neck with hands powered by mad adrenaline. “Gasp!...That’s not Queensbury…Old…Bean…†croaked Lord Steam. He felt his vision fading as he tried to unpin the man’s hands from his neck. Normally he would be stronger and fitter, but this man was possessed by some truly insane and ancient force. His fingers bit like iron into his neck, and he could feel himself becoming light headed. He didn’t think the man would be satisfied with mere unconsciousness. No! what an ignoble end! Strangled to death by some middle aged lunatic! Not Lord Lockwood! No Sir! No! He steadied his body and nerves, and with a twist and nudge, manuevered his arms inside his attackers, then using advantageous leverage, twisted the man’s arms right out of the grip in a corkscrew movement. Schwarzkreig’s eye lit up in fury, but two open handed chops came down on his neck, and sent him off to sleep. Lord Steam stood up and adjusted his Cravatte. “Don’t get all steamed up about it†he said, with a slightly snooty air, looking down on the Ambassador, before stepping over him and out of the room.

Vignette: Rene Happy Birthday! 7/7/7 Paris, the Order of the Halbedier’s. “Happy Birthday Rene!†The secret meeting place of the order of the Halbediers was hidden in plain sight. It had taken considerable effort, in bribes, diplomacy (and in one instance, a night time escapade with a pick axe and welding tools) to alter the building of the Eiffel Tower just slightly. And now it stood in a precise configuration as a monumental iron and steel ward from the faerie dimensions protecting all of Paris. So, the Halbediers met, every now and again, to celebrate their achievement, drink fine wine, and shield themselves from eldritch sight, in its security office at the basement. One of the members, Phillipe deCompte, had taken a job there. He was a lazy good for nothing man who barely did any security work, but who was expert at reading aura’s underneath his drooping half asleep eye lids, and could spot a trouble maker in his sleep. Whilst the security staff all understood him to be the most idle and laziest of men, they all somehow knew he had a knack for spotting troublemakers that was uncanny. Rene was probably the oldest of the ragtag bunch of Frenchmen that comprised the Halbediers. They were a loose lot, numbering between ten and twenty at any one time, all dedicated to protecting France from supernatural threats and whose origins were suitably vague and fuzzy. They possibly went back to prehistoric times, with additions, subtractions, and alterations through the centuries. At some point or another, however, they had all sworn up to the oath of protection and taken their name. And they took their responsibilities seriously. Rene said probably the oldest, as one could never tell. The mysterious dusky Yasmine, for instance, looked as young as she ever did, and for all Rene knew she could have been born millennia ago. Count Bonnaire, of course was older. But not strictly alive. They brought his pickled head along for the major celebrations, of course, and he was quite willing to engage in conversation for those important events. Rene’s closest friend in the Halbediers was Marcel, the sewer cleaner. It was true the man rarely smelt particularly fine, but he was a cheerful sort, robust of body and spirit, and he had a keen eye for trouble in his haunts. For some reason, cultists, bogeymen, undead, and all sorts of arcane troubles tended to pop up below the city. And Marcel had his eyes down there. He was not the most powerful mage, but he knew a thing or two. “Make a wish!†said Marcel, passing Rene a small cake with a solitary candle on it. Rene also made his true age a rather obscure number – he was clearly old, and everyone knew (or at least strongly suspected) that he was older than any mortal human had any right to be. But he kept exactly how old a mystery. Rene made some cursory remark about how his old lungs couldn’t possibly blow out a candle at his age, but of course nobody was buying it. “Get on with it, you fool†croaked the Count’s pickled head “even I could blow that out…†So Rene dutifully blew out the candle, contemplating what wish to make. Wishes were powerful things, whether or not they came true. Even by making one, he was setting things in motion. He was usually disinclined to commit thusly, but then the very act of living is a commitment of sorts. He had lived a long life, and of course, being so long, it had been peppered with regret. It was rich with many things, including love, kindness, and compassion, and he held on to this things with an iron grip. But, he realised, he had seen horrors and evils that had terrified him. And really, it was not the evils from dimensions that should not be named, or the ghastly entities from beyond the realm of imagination that had scarred him. For those (mostly) could be faced and beaten back with spells, will, and ritual (and, on one memorable occasion, he recalled, a trumpet stuffed with a salmon). No, he realised that every year, on his birthday, it was the horrors of men that upset him most. The horrors that could never be defeated, that were driven by lust, greed, malice, or worse still, driven by unthinking devotion to God, State, or Cause. The wars and the revolutions. They had been the worst of times. And yet within such blackness, often the finest flowers of humanity grew. Yes, he told himself. There. “Forgive me, my friends, if I keep my wish to myself…†he smiled, as he addressed the Halbediers. A flawed lot, he acknowledged. But a fine lot, who had sacrificed, and no doubt would keep on sacrificing, for their noble duty. He wished that he would never forgot those flowers. Those beautiful moments and memories that stopped his cynicism dissolving into despair and bitterness. That kept life alive and sweet still. The perceptive would notice that as he shared that moment under the Iron Monument of Paris, his eyes had grown wet. But his smile was full and joyous.

The Interview Video records from research base Kalla Födelse, shortly before it was overrun by SHADOW. The video footage is black and white, and somewhat grainy. The sound and image are not good quality, perhaps being shot in an amateur way, perhaps because almost all records were lost. This sole record, labelled â€tape S-2117†suggests that huge amount of such footage was shot, intended to give an accurate record of the first year of life of Synth. The interviewers are unseen, and are at least two men and one woman, asking pre-determined questions. The questions are in fluent Swedish, although it is apparent that only one of them is a native Swedish speaker. The footage starts of with some shots of Synth, dressed in athletic gear, in the form of a woman. Synth responds to the questions in Swedish, without a strong accent, and is a little hesitant with her words, struggling at times, as though she has not fully mastered the nunances of language. 1. Hello, Synth, do you mind if we ask you some questions for the record today? How are you feeling? I feel very good…thank you for asking. Everything is working just fine. 2 For the record, can you tell us your first memory? That’s a little hard. It’s all rather vague, and fuzzy. I get flashes, images, sometimes sounds. I suppose my first memory is actually of smells – laboratory chemicals, I know that sound’s really cold [laughs a little], but that’s how it was for me. 3 What do those memories feel like? Distant, I guess. But familiar at the same time, like something stamped on me, but without knowing what it was? You know how smells are linked with memory – or so you told me [points at one of the interviewers]. Well, it’s true, for me as well. Those memories must have been when I was very young, maybe only a small ball of cells. But I have always had a powerful sense of smell for some reason. 4 And what reflections do you have on development? Do you remember your brain developing? Maybe, it felt like everything around me just started making sense, the pieces all started falling together? And I remember being shown myself in a mirror one day and suddenly gaining self awareness. That was a powerful memory. [Laughts gently] I know I’ll never be a genius like all you professors, but I learn fast. 5 You have a remarkable brain, don’t do it a disservice! How do you judge your own thoughts and feelings in comparison to humans? Well [a little sad] I prefer to think of myself as human, even though I know I am not. I am very much like a human. I hope there is more in common that not. And at this stage all I know about human are the scientists here at the station like you, which I don’t think are representative of the average human. My brain, I understand, works faster, and can process thinks in a more integrated, efficient way. Maybe things happen in slow motion for me? But these are difficult philosophical questions. I understand from your psychometric testing that whilst my processing speed is way beyond normal human speed, my functional abilities in other areas are within normal average human abilities. Whatever that is! [smiles] 6 And what about your emotional responses? I have them too! You probably remember them, more powerful and, well, chaotic, when I was developing. Rage, frustration, compassion, love, disgust, desire – as far as I know, I experience every human emotion. It seems I might experience them slightly differently, maybe. They seem more – integrated for me. The passions neither rule me or I rule them. I know them and they never overwhelm me. I don’t seem to repress them much like human’s either – perhaps I don’t need to, as they don’t interfere as much with my thinking. I’m not quite sure. It just seems that they aren’t a problem? [shrugs with a half smile]. 7 Lets move on to your body, how is that developing? Very well! This form [points to herself] has come to be my normal resting state. I don’t know if I chose it, or it chose me! I suppose, because I have the full equivalent of a human chromosome, an XX configuration, a female form is natural! Its pretty strong now, I exercise it daily. 8 How do you feel about gender? What is your identity? I think it is best to say I am female, or a woman. Of course, I could easily be a man if I chose to. And, to be honest, I will probably take that role at times, out of interest. But I have come to identify most as a human female. That’s the closest answer I can give. 9 And [slightly embarrassed cough] what of [ahem] sexual [ahem] feelings? Oh I get them too, like any human. I haven’t any experience with sexual activity yet, so I suppose I will see how that I feel about that when the time comes. Perhaps the best definition for me is omnisexual, or yet to be defined? My desires don’t seem to drive me to distraction like you. I’ve seen how you are around Professor McFritton. 10 [Protracted embarrassed mumbling and coughing] Yes, anyway, moving on… Describe the control you have over your body. My entire body feels….alive. I am connected to every cell in it. Even if it is separated from my body, I retain control over it…look… [Her hand separates from her left arm, drops off, crawls around, then re-attatches]. See? I retain full control and connection to all of my cells at all times. It gives me an marvellous and complete sense of control over my body. Oh, yes, I would be termed ambi-dexterous. 11 Thank you for that demonstration. How do you control the changes in your form? All of my cells are connected by a silicon biomolecule network and show stem cell properties with enhanced metabolism. I have learned how to rapidly code them to grow any human based tissue, like bone, muscle, or internal organs. Seems the only thing I really have problems with his hair [smiles, and runs fingers through her short hair]. 12 What’s special about that? I don’t know? Maybe because it’s not alive? You should see how long it took me to grow this… and quite an effort too. Not a follicle on my skin [pinches forearm flesh] even in the cold of north Sweden, no ‘goose bumps’. Guess I am not quite human after all. But, one thing I can do… [Her hair turns pink, then black, then back to blond] …is change its colour! My synthetic hair, and my skin, eye colour, everything, is all polychromatic. I can change its colour almost instantly! Looks rather pretty, but pretty useless, I suppose. 13 And how does these abilities to change your form feel? Liberating and exciting! It means I can do all sorts of things, experiment with all kinds of physical activity, and stretch myself in all kinds of ways – quite literally stretch myself! 14 Can you give me an example? [Turns into the form of a middle aged man with white hair, wearing same woman’s athletic clothes]. Like this! I can imitate the form of other people. Not perfectly… [Puts arm next to camera. It is hairless and unblemished] …but close enough I you don’t examine it carefully. [Turns back to resting form] 15 I’d rather you kept out of my skin if it’s all the same to you. Do you intend to go round fooling people? No, that’s not my intent at all [slightly shocked]. Perhaps you could say I would like to playwith my form. I don’t like to fool people. I strongly believe in respecting everyone. 16 Perhaps you shouldn’t have imitated me then? I’m sorry. I don’t fully understand human society or customs [looks ashamed] I know I keep doing stupid things, but It’s only because I don’t understand, I hate hurting people’s feelings. 17 What about deceit? Or lying? Can you explain those phenomena? I can explain the concept, but I can’t do it. It’s the one human thing I simply haven’t been able to do. I could fool people by keeping my mouth shut, perhaps. But the concept of saying a falsehood…it just doesn’t make sense. I can’t see how to do it. How do you do it? It’s just impossible. Like trying to smell a colour or touch a sound. 18 Do you think you will develop further? I don’t think, at this stage, I will gain any more resting biomass, if that’s what you mean. I think, with exercise and training, I might become conceivably faster, or stronger. And I am sure that I can learn new things to do with my stem cells. 19 Do you think you pose and danger? I hope not. I mean, I am certain I am not violent. I know there were a few mishaps and accidents when I was developing, but I have no inclination to violence and the utmost respect for human life. I would respect it and defend it at all cost. I know that much. But I know some more testing is needed to make certain I am no biohazard, although everything seems to indicate I am safe. 20 What do you hope for? I hope to evolve, and learn as much about who and what I am as I can. I hope to make a difference, to be a friend and cousin to humans, and do good for them all. To join them as one of their best and most noble.

HellQ Introduction Who are you? Sum yourself up in one sentence. Synth, short for synthetic organism. Do you have any nicknames, street names, titles, or nom de plume? None. What is your full birth name? Cell Batch 57474 Where do you live? Freedom City, various rented (cheap) apartments. I usually don’t stay in one place too long as I don’t technically have any legal papers. How old are you? What year were you born (if applicable)? 2009. I am one year old. Physical Traits What is your gender? If not applicable, please explain. My artificial cellular structure is only loosely modelled on human chromosomes. I am best described as female if I have any gender, as I tend to take that phenotypic form and the XX genotype is more complete. How would you describe your heritage? I don’t have one! How tall are you? At normal cellular configuration, 175cm. Or, to use alternative measurements I believe you favour, five feet and nine inches. What is your body type? At normal cellular configuration it would be described as a fairly muscular, athletic, and well proportioned build. Do you have any particular weaknesses, such as allergies or physical disabilities? Acid interferes with my synthetic cellular configuration. How do you carry yourself? Are you graceful, or heavy on your feet? Can you be stealthy, do you walk with confidence? My advanced synthetic silicon-based nerve system greatly enhances my agility and co-ordination. All my movements are precise, lithe, and graceful. Describe your skin, eye, and hair color. At baseline, I have rather pale skin, blue eyes, and platinum blond hair. However, I my unique cells can instantly adjust their reflectivity to light and thus change color. I usually have slightly darker / tanned skin and a slightly darker blonde hair. How do you wear your hair, if applicable? Do you have facial hair? Unfortunately, hair production is one of the few things my cellular structure struggles with. I have no body hair and my head hair is normally short. Do you consider yourself attractive? Do others? Its not so easy to judge oneself, but I think I am. Others have said I am very attractive. Of course, it depends on exactly what shape I take. Do you have any scars, tattoos, piercings, or birthmarks? None. Do you resemble anyone famous? At resting state, no. Do you have a dominant hand? No. I am ambidexterous. What kind of clothing do you wear? I usually wear loose, cheap, clothes. I don’t really understand the concepts of “style†or “fashion†to well. Many people have termed me “scruffy†unless they make an effort to “smarten me upâ€. I exercise quite a lot so often wear athletic gear. Do you wear makeup? No (normally). I really have no need to as I can alter my skin tone. What is your vocal range? Is your voice distinctive in some way? My voice is usually set for the normal timbre of an adult female. It could be adjusted. Do you have any distinctive habits, nervous tics, or mannerisms? Where did they come from, and what causes them? Do other people notice and remark on these habits? Do they annoy you or other people? I am largely ignorant of social customs and society, and the world in general. I can often, as you say, “put my foot in itâ€. That’s an expression I have heard a lot of. Due to my nervous system’s control, I can do things that seem a little peculiar, like being motionless for long periods of time. I also tend to move faster and more accurately than humans. History Where do you come from? North Sweden. Have you made any major moves, or do you live in your hometown? After the research facility that I was born in was overrun by SHADOW, I made my way to America, Freedom City, through Russia. Do you feel loyal to your country of citizenship? Do you consider yourself patriotic? How do you feel about the government of your country? I owe no allegiance to any particular country. However, I admire the Nordic system of governance and social democracy as principles. I find the politics of America both admirable in its commitment to freedom and democracy and horrid in its distribution of wealth. How do you feel about the place you come from? Even though I was a research subject, they treated me well enough and tried to educate and socialise with me. The scenery was beautiful, and I got to see the northern lights! Where is your home town? What was/is it like? A state of the art research facility in North Sweden. It was very isolated, so not much of a town. The facilities were very good. Outside it was cold, white, and beautiful. The nearest settlement was four miles away, I visited it occasionally on field trips. Growing up, were most of the people you knew similar to you, or were you somehow a minority? How did that affect you? I was, and remain, completely unique. I only knew the scientists and staff at the station and they were only nineteen of them. Is there something you've always been really good at or really bad at? How has that affected your life? I am very good and fast at athletic and physical activity, and even some mental activity. But I remain ignorant of much of human society and social conventions. That makes things difficult in terms of relationships. Were there any traumatic experiences in your early years (death of a family member, abandonment, orphaned at an early age)? After one year of life, SHADOW overran the facility in order to collect me for future experimentation. I understand now that SHADOW had been secretly funding the whole project. Briefly describe a defining moment in your childhood and how it influenced your life. I did not really have much of a childhood. From one cell I grew to full form in six months, and I could only be called self aware for the last two months of those, my brain developing more slowly. What stupid things did you do when you were younger? My cellular structure was rapidly altering and, for want of a better word, I played with it before my brain fully developed. Occassionally I accidentally caused injury to researchers and destroyed equipment. Where did you go to school? How much school did you have, and did you enjoy it? I received education from the research staff, although it was basic except for the field of biology and biochemistry, which was important for all of us. Do you have any mementos of your childhood? What are they, and why did you keep them? If you have none, why not? Only a small dog tag with my batch number (57474) on that I wear around my neck. Habit, I guess. When did you decide to become a hero? Why? Did anyone influence you one way or another in the decision? The staff inspired me to act for the common good. We all have a moral obligation to fight for the wellbeing of society and ones fellow humans. I am no different, it feels right. It is rewarding. Is the reason you give people for becoming a hero different than your real reason? If so, why? No. Do you have any deep, dark secrets in the past that may come back to haunt you? No. Do you represent yourself as being different from who you really are? Why? Yes. I have no legal identity, and I wish to live undercover for most of day to day life, so as to avoid SHADOW and experience real human society. If you do have these secrets, what do you fear would happen if the truth became known? How far would you go to protect those secrets? My only fear is being hunted by SHADOW for further experimentation. Do you have any sort of criminal record? If so, is it public knowledge? Other than having no legal documents or being legally alive, no. Technically I would be an illegal immigrant. Family What are your biological parents' names? None. I understand some of the DNA that my synthetic structure is modelled on has come from samples that are Utopian. Were you raised by them? If not, please explain and describe who raised you. I was raised by the research staff who created me. What was their standing in the community? What did/do they do for a living? They were respected and very able scientists. Where are your parents now? Not applicable. Did your family stay in one area or move around a lot? Not applicable. How did you get along with their parents? How do you get along with them now (if applicable). Not applicable. How do your parents view you now, or how would they? Not applicable. Do you have any siblings? If so how many and what are their names? Describe your relationship with them. None known. Several other cellular batches approached sentience but I was the only known full success. What was your birth order in the family? First, or fifty seven thousand, four hundred and seventy fourth. Depending on your perspective. Where are your siblings now (if applicable)? Do they have families of their own? What do they do? The other cellular samples either were not viable, or were destroyed when the station was overrun. It is possible that some batches were recovered by SHADOW. I hope not. Do you stay in touch with them or have you become estranged? Not applicable. Do you love or hate one member of the family in particular? Not applicable. Is any member of the family special to you in any way (perhaps, as a confidant, mentor, or arch-rival)? Not applicable. Are there any black (or white) sheep in the family (including you)? If so, please explain. Not applicable. Do you have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? If so, please explain, including how it has affected your life. No. Do you have a partner and children currently? If so, please describe them. No. If you do not have a partner or children, do you want them someday? How firm are you in your opinion on this, and what might change your mind? I am not sure it is possible. I have no particular desire for children at this point, as I have so much to learn. Eventually, if I can - children seem a vital part of being Human and I would want to experience as much of human life as possible at some point. What type of person would be your ideal mate? Someone calm, thoughtful, caring, honest, and good. Relationships Do you have any close friends? If so, please describe them, and how you came to be close to them. None at present. I find making friends difficult because of my nature, I don’t quite understand human relationships and customs and I realise my brain is not fully human, but I hope that wont be a barrier. I tend to make friends in a transient way at present, and I don’t think that is ideal. Do you have a best friend? If so, how did they become your best friend? How close are you to your best friend? No. If you were to go missing, who would worry about you? Nobody! Have you lost any loves? If so, how did it happen, and what did you do? None. Do you have any bitter enemies? If so, please describe them and their history with you. SHADOW. I don’t experience the intensity of emotions as fully as human beings – or rather, I experience them in a more ordered way. The way they ripped through my home and my friends and caretakers makes me interested in what you would term revenge. If you have enemies, how do you think they might attempt to work against you in the future? Again, SHADOW would like to collect on the experiment they funded, namely, me. The fact I have no legal identity technically makes me an enemy of the authorities here. What is the worst thing someone has done to you? Destroyed the research base I grew up in. Where do your loyalties lie? In what order? To the welfare of humankind first, the principles of freedom, democracy and fairness. Secondly, I am very curious to explore human nature, and its relationship to my own, closely related nature. I want to experience all that being human has to offer. Who or what do you trust the most? Why? I generally trust everyone, at least initially. Who or what do you despise? Why? Unfairness, corruption. Western capitalism. Slavery. Anything that demeans the quality of human existence. What qualities do you admire most in other people? Are these qualities you possess? Fairness, honesty, calmness, thoughtfulness. What qualities do you hate most in other people? Do you have any of those qualities? Greed, impulsivity, selfishness, thoughtlessness. Do you have a secret identity? If so, who knows it? Do you hide it from people who are close to you? Why? I have limitless secret identities. In an effort to explore human nature I drift around a lot, changing my appearance a bit and taking on different names, jobs, residence. Do you work well on teams and in groups? Are you a leader or a follower? I do not have much experience of working in groups, although I try to get on with everybody and welcome shared experiences and relationships. I do not believe anybody should lead or follow. Are you on a super team? If so, how do you get along with your comrades? Do you trust them, or do you have secrets from them? No. Are you a member of any church, fraternal organization, club, committee, political party, or other group? How much time do you spend on that? No. Although I have strong sympathies with both western democracy (for its liberty and freedom) and communism (for its equality and fairness of resource distribution). Religion doctrine or theological philosophy does not make much sense to me, although I admire and welcome the communal spirit in fosters and would like to share in that. Personality & Beliefs Who are your heroes? I don’t have enough knowledge of the world to have formed an idea of heroes. I admire great thinkers, such as Freud, Darwin, Marx, people who have practiced great reflection and startling ideas. I also admire some great historical leaders such as Ghandi, or Mandela. Did you ever become disillusioned with former heroes or idols? If so, why and what were the circumstances? Not yet, but I have limited experience. I don’t feel able to wholeheartedly idolise. Do you like being a hero? If so, what is the most rewarding part? If not, what makes you keep doing it? I neither like it or dislike it. It is who I am. My entirety is rich and I would not change it. My designation as a hero is just due to my inclination to do the right thing. Is there anything that would make you give up hero work, or even switch sides? No. What are your short term goals (what would you like to be doing within a year)? I would like to understand more about human society and experience as much of it as possible. What are your long term goals (what would you like to be doing twenty years from now)? Ultimately I would like to gain full legal recognition and settle down in the open without aliases. This would require resolution of the situation with SHADOW so that is also a goal. Possibly, I would like to experience a long term relationship and children. What is your greatest fear? Why? What do you do when something triggers this fear? Being experimented on, being found out. Is there anything you would give you life for? Lots of things. The lives of others. Social justice. How do you feel about money and material wealth? Do you desire it or disdain it? Are you miserly with what you have, or do you like to share? Is it a mark of success, or a means to an end? I don’t understand it very well, but I see how it is an important spoke in the wheel of today’s society. I have little or no desire to “possess†things. How do you generally treat others? Very honestly, I hope I care for them and if necessary fight for them. I try to be fair. Are you a trusting person? Has your trust ever been abused? In general yes, although I take suitable precautions about important things such as my identity. I tend to take what people say at face value, but am beginning to learn about this strange concept called “lying†humans seem able to do. Are you introverted (shy and withdrawn) or extroverted (outgoing)? Do you have a lot of self-confidence? I am neither. I am fairly confident. How do you act around attractive, available members of your preferred sex? I don’t really have much experience… What are your most annoying habits? Honesty. Do you feel contempt for any general category of people? Who are they, and why? I have considerable, but not all encompassing, contempt for the greedy rich, particularly those who are not philanthropic. What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any particular type of food? Do you take the time to enjoy your food, or do you eat as fast as you can? I enjoy all sorts of food! I have heightened olfactory senses compared to human beings and love experimenting and savouring with flavours. I eat very slowly, lingering over every taste. What is your favorite drink (alcoholic or otherwise)? I really like to drink plain water, a lot of it. What is your favorite treat (dessert)? I don’t have one, like food in general I love to change and explore with tastes. Are there any specific foodstuffs that you find disgusting or refuse to eat? None. My body system can easily tolerate even badly spoiled food. What is your favorite color? Are there any colors you dislike? I have a liking for whites and silvers, they remind me of snow. But I like all colours. What sort of music do you like? Is there any that you hate? I am still exploring this. I have enjoyed much classical music, particularly minimalist pieces with emphasis on rhythm. I also find the raw emotion of many music, like “rock†or “soul†as fascinating. If you have a favorite scent, what is it? I like the smell of snow and rain. Do you have a favorite animal? No, human / animal relationships are odd to me. What is your most treasured possession? Why? None. I do not believe in possessions. Do you enjoy "roughing it", or do you prefer your creature comforts? I would like to explore both, but currently I am quite happy and find “roughing it†very interesting! Is there a job or a task you would absolutely refuse to do? Any which contradict my core beliefs – that I would feel are unjust. Do you consider yourself a spiritual person? If so, how do your beliefs affect your life? How important is it to you? I find the question confusing. I do not believe in anything religious but on the other hand, I find the experience of many religious and philosophical traditions highly enriching. Was your faith influenced or molded by anyone special? No. If you belong to a religious organization, how often do you attend? Do you have a specific place of worship, or friends within the organization? How much do you agree with the beliefs of your organization? Not applicable. Could you kill? Have you killed? I could kill if it was necessary to save life. I have never done so, and aim not to. What circumstances led to you forming that conviction, or taking that action? It seems logical to me. Are there circumstances under which you believe it is permissible to kill? What are they? Yes, in order to save other lives. How would you react to watching someone kill another person? Would your reaction be different if the killer was a friend or an enemy of yours? I would be disgusted. How would you react if something important was stolen from you? I have nothing to steal! How would you react to public humiliation? Humilation is an emotion I find difficult to fully understand. I am me. If that was to be ridiculed, I would be angry and upset at the aggressive nature of that ridicule. How would you react if a good friend or relative were purposely or accidentally killed? Has it happened to you? I would be very angry. What do you consider to be the worst crime someone could commit and why? Murder, the taking of life without due cause is surely the worst insult. If your life were to end in 24 hours, what five things would you do in those remaining hours? I would probably try to squeeze some “extreme†human experiences that would otherwise be unadvisable or destructive in the long term. They would probably involve taking intoxicating substances, sexual activity, a communal “spiritual†experience, and some dangerous / exhilarating physical activity. Career & Training Do you have any special training in your hero skills? If so, where and how did you get it? None – other than the research done during my time in Sweden. Who taught you the most about your heroing abilities? What was your relationship with that person? Myself. Do you have any particularly unusual skills? How did you acquire them? None. Do you do something besides hero work for a living? Have you ever done anything else, or do you plan to? I do a variety of odd jobs – waiting, labourer, stuff like that. Jobs I can pick up and leave as I wish. I usually work hard and fast. What is your preferred combat style? I tend to prefer minimal injury, so I would try to grapple and subdue many opponents, growing extra limbs and length to my limbs in order to help. If I need to attack at range I would change my structure to give me greater reach or speed. Have you ever received any awards or honours? No. What skill areas would you like most to improve in? Is there anything you can't do that you wish desperately you could? I would like to improve everything. How do you act around people who are more skilled than you in areas you'd like to improve? Are you jealous, or do you try and learn? I would definitely like to learn. I love learning! Lifestyle & Hobbies What is a normal day for you? How do you feel when something interrupts this routine? I don’t have much of a routine. I get up early, maybe 5 (I don’t need much sleep), and often exercise, either privately or at a gym. Eat a light breakfast, and then, depending on what hours I am working and where, go to work – I drift around doing odd menial jobs. My evenings are quite varied, often just wandering the city, and seeing anything I can. If there are any free activities such as the library or outdoor concerts, that kind of thing. Maybe a cheap bar or nightclub (I don’t drink much, I do dance and love music). I tend to go to bed around 1 in the morning. I often read before I go to bed. Do you have any hobbies, or interests outside hero work? What are they, and where did you pick them up? I exercise quite a lot, and read quite a lot. I know a bit about biological sciences so I am interested in that. What do you do for fun? I am still exploring that, I try to take in a bit of nightlife and culture when I can, mainly the free or subsidised stuff as I don’t have much money. Do you have a costume? What does it look like? No. How do you normally dress when not in costume? Cheaply. I am often called rather scruffy and I have been told I have no sense of style. I wear baggy, second hand, and shapeless clothes a lot of the time, although I also wear athletic gear too when I am exercising. What do you wear to bed most nights? Varies, often nothing (I do not feel the cold). Do you wear any special jewelry? What is it, and what does it look like? No. Too expensive and I can’t see the point! Do you have a special place where you keep your valuables? What valuables? What's your preferred means of local travel? How about long distance? Walking (or running). I sometimes use a bicycle (if I have one) or public transport. If I do not need to conceal my nature, I can adapt my structure for much faster movement, using elongated legs, and adapting my musculature and skeleton to a spring-powered configuration. Miscellaneous Have you ever made a will, or tried to make arrangements for your death? What provisions did you make? No. If your features were to be destroyed beyond recognition, is there any other way of identifying your body? Any analysis of my cells, or internal organs would quickly reveal me for the unique specimen I am. What would you like to be remembered for after your death? As I fighter for human justice and fairness. Do you believe you pose a threat to the public? Why or why not? This is highly unlikely. I might pose a threat to the government (at a push) but not the people. What do you perceive as your greatest strength? Adaptability and a keenness to learn. What do you perceive as your greatest weakness? Youth and inexperience. As a player, if you could, what advice would you give your character? Speak as if he/she were sitting right here in front of you. Use proper tone so they might heed your advice... You are a unique and wonderful thing, and I can understand your desire to explore the wonders of the world and of life, but be careful and use as much judgement as you can. Don’t bow to cynicism and fight for what you believe in, stay true to that.

Vignette: What Price Freedom? Supercape 4th July 2011 On board the Starship “Starlock†Even Captain Kraken wouldn’t sink this low. It was from one of the Octopoid Bucaneer’s stooges that Supercape had first learned of the dread ship Starlock. It furrowed the outskirts of the galaxy, some said under a commission from the Star Kahn, some said by a rouge Star Knight, some said it was independent. Some said it flew straight out of a black hole, or from hell itself. The Starlock was a slave ship. It preyed on civilisations that were primitive, dying, or in trouble – be it from war, disease, or natural disaster. Perhaps it even created some of those miseries. Then, it pounced, rounding up some defenceless slaves, and carrying them off to sell on the galactic black market. To the very worst of warlords, cultures, or private enterprises. The risk was high – for the Lor took the very dimmest of views on slavery – but the price was high too. And the Starlock was a fast, well armed ship, that pounced and was gone. It was only whispered of. And here it was, landed on a world of sand, rock, and water, seeing if the primitive proto-amphibious race here would make good stock. Supercape could track the ship, and move faster than any Lor ship. But it had taken some time to seek out the slave traders. And he was not about to waste the opportunity. Two slavers were outside. The crew of the Starlock were serious people, hardened and cruel criminals, veteran fighters. Armoured and weaponised, alert and cunning. From thewaters, Supercape burst, his costume aglow with radioactive power and a shining field of quantum molecules all around him. He landed beside the two Slavers, and struck one – not powerfully, but with his energised fist melting the man’s armour and overloading his weapon. His comrade reacted, firing his hand cannon directly at Supercape. Its power overloaded his forcefield and he could feel his skin sizzle, but he responded quickly, striking the man back and giving him a taste of his own medicine. He reached down and took the Slaver by the collar, pulling him up to his own face. The Slaver was still wearing his mask, now smoking and sparking from the radioactive assault. Supercape was not an angry man by nature, but the affront to nature these men were dispensing had incensed him. “Your trade ends today, chum! I’m entering the Starlock with or without your help. Its just that if you give me the passcode, you won’t burn…†he sneered. Yes, he was angry. It showed in his face and in his white hot glow. Some things, he decided, were just wrong. Not many. But this was one of them. The Starlock itself was big and oppressive, all metal and function without thought to style or comfort. It was dark too, although Supercape’s extraordinary senses needed no light. The power systems and flow of energies lit the structure up like a Christmas tree to him. The Guard to the Slave’s Cells was alert, but caught by Surprise when his Pain Staff exploded in his face, rendering his unconscious. He dropped like a deadweight to the floor, the boots and cape of his attacker brushing over him. Supercape brushed aside his Cape and stood by the Cell door, with a moments Concentration, the door’s super-alloyed metal lost coherence, and melted away into dust. The chains on the slave there lasted no longer than the cell. “Only you?†asked Supercape, quizzically. “The other’s…didn’t make it…†replied the alien. He (if it was a he, but Supercape supposed so), was a blue-brown hue, about eight feet tall and thin as a pole. His four arms also gave indication to his alien status. He was wearing only rags. Despite his odd appearance, he was definitely of humanoid stock. Supercape noticed that whilst the Alien spoke, he felt rather than the heard the words. Some kind of telepathic communication. The alien’s tounge, now he focussed on the sounds, was completely unintelligible. “What’s your name?†“Quastim†came the true sound. “I am from the planet Seyat. A dying world. Very few of us left, very few of the Seyatis. We are strong, but our world is near its end, and we cannot fight…this…†he continued, gesturing at the Starlock. “The Starlock come’s to an end today†replied Supercape. True, he could not fight the entire slave ship – not a whole crew of veteran warriors with top end military hardware. But he could disable the Ship and strand it on this world. See how they get along with the amphibious tribes here until the Lor arrive… He traced the power lines of the Starlock, and studied the nuances of the ebb and flow of energies. A simple nudge here, and push there…and a feedback loop. Soon, alarms were ringing, and a subtle smell of smoke, before one, then two explosions were heard. “We are getting out of here…†he said to Quastim “I’ll try to find your world, if I can. But one thing I can promise you, my friend, is freedom, whatever comes. No man should live in chains…†And with that, space and time folded, and the four armed alien and caped Superhero vanished from the dying decks of the Slave Ship Starlock.

GM Voyeur Royer didn't recognise Kristen. "Hey, its that girl! you know, the Disaster from Down Under!" blurted a cameraman next to Royer. He was a small man, with a big nose, and a bowler hat with a "PRESS" card tucked into it. For all his unassuming, weasel features, he had eyes like a hawk, and an intelligence burning behind his eyes. "Jack Jackson" read his press badge. He took up his enormously long camera and took a shot of Kristen. "Bound to be some disaster when you go walking, honey!" he laughed at the young heroine. Royer rolled his eyes at Jack but didn't say a word to him. "Yeah, they fished two bodies out of the docks. Alive, but only just. More of them, perhaps, I don't follow this stuff. But the word's bad. And its no time for that Idiot Diamond to go flashing and cavorting. The man should show some class, if you ask me. " He leant in a little closer. "Word is - Mexican Illegal Immigrants. What happened to those poor souls, I don't know. Guessing many would rather not know. But somebody round here does. Somebody round here is doing a deal shipping some desperate fools in to Freedom City by the Ocean..."

GM The executive suite did indeed live up to its reputation, all plush cushions, silk, oak, and a magnificent view. Tea was served, and it too was spiffing. The butler who carefully poured her tea was dressed perfectly, with pristine white gloves and a marvellous elocution. "Your teah mad-ahm" he said in most regal tones. "Ahm I to H'understand that Mad-Ahm also wishes to make H'additional H'inquh'uiries?" he asked politely, giving a nuanced bow.

Well. I will certainly let you burn an HP to gain (find) a fire extinguisher! (as it allows the feat Equipment 1) - this would give you two sprays (and you would need one here) Otherwise, Ill just post some generic kick down door flaming debris stuff and give you a DC 20 toughness roll for the flames. Let you call on that one.

Rene stood up straight. This time, his bones really did ache. He was tired, hungry, and needed another sleep. The day was drawing in again. But none of them had any time to rest. "The stench of the demon has faded, it is true" he said, examining the unconscious form of the old woman "but perhaps, with the right methods, we could induce some trance, some...connection. Not for long, but perhaps, long enough..." Marcel nodded, and the two Halbediers got too work. More smells filled the room, less noxious but equally pungent smell filled the room - a series of smoking sticks lit by Marcel that had a faintly hypnotic, or perhaps narcotic effect. Rene wound up a mechanical clock and mumbled some words over it. It seemed to tick slower, and louder. He then whispered some words in the womans ear and peeled back her eyes. Her eyeballs had rolled right back and she was mumbling herself. Her words were faint and feverish, but some could be made out... "Arc...de Triumph...by...moonlight...comes...the hands...the eyes...the bull...the wings..."

(GM) The massive Catamaran was, indeed, massive. A couple of floozies, dressed up to the nines, laughed and blew kisses and the photographers that lapped it up. "Look, its Steve Diamond!" yelled one of the photographers, closely followed by the screams of some women - some young, some not so young. Steve Diamond was a film star and crooner, in his early fourties, but still blessed with film star good looks and a deep magnetic voice. He was, as they say, young at heart. His three ex wifes, conviction for drug possession, and multiple affairs were testament to that. But somehow, nothing damaged his charisma. Or, by the looks of it, his wealth. The man dripped gold, and flaunted in it in a way that was on the edge of ostentatious. He gave the crowd a cheesy grin and wave, before holding on to a young beauty by the waist with each arm. "Idiot" came a mutter beside the two young heroes. It was none other than "Voyeur" Royer, mutant reporter! RIch Royer had the power to communicate his vision and hearing directly as radiowaves, becoming a living camera! He turned to the two youngsters. "What a poseur!" he commented. "Flashing around like that when a few hapless souls got fished out of the water only this morning. And the morning before..."

Complication for Kristen - nosy reporter / fame. Glow - 3 HP - Unharmed Heraldo - 1 HP - Unharmed

OOC thread for this. Heraldo and Glow and some Immegrants in trouble!

GM December 29th "Quiet Paulo! Be Quiet!" Maria clutched the crucifix around her neck as she comforted her younger brother. There were eight of them, crammed below deck, huddled together. Maria and Paulo were orphans, their parents virtual slaves to El Diablo, the local businessman, politic, and crime lord all rolled into one. They had decided to escape their small town in Mexico for the freedom of America. They were on their way to Freedom City in a large cargo vessel, as illegal immigrants. A flashlight and some boots creaked down the stairs to the hold. "Halfway there" said the grizzly sailor, tough, unshaven, and broad. He fingered a submachine gun strapped around his chest and chewed a dead ciggarette in his mouth. "It's time for your...innoculations...har har..." he laughed. Another man came creeping down, a bald headed man, dressed in a scientists white overalls and fingering a syringe. The hold yawed slightly with the waves. As the sailor laughed. "I'm scared, Maria...." whimpered Paulo.... Meanwhile...at the docks of Freedom City... Boats, yachts, and cargo vessels of all sizes were tied up, arriving and departing the city. It was always alive with activity - from A - list film stars strolling around their billionaire yachts and lapping up the papparazi, to rather more shady deals and shady merchandise slipping around customs. And right now, the whisper was of a whole heap of customised new drugs, some kind of speed, or booster plus. Nobody was quite sure. But a few unnamed individuals had even been found and hospilised. The mood was not so good.

"Its good thinking" nodded Rene, as he started mixing the ingredients together. Rainwater, he had collected himself from the gutter of Marcel's house. "Carry on with eldrich insight like that, and we shall be forced to press-gang you into the halbediers!" he winked at Marcel, who nodded. The sewer worker had collapsed into an armchair, sweating profusely. "And now", he concluded "to rid ourselves of this cursed plague!" The ritual itself did not take much longer. The foul concoction Rene had brewed up added yet another odour to the menagerie of smells in Marcel's house, and the temperature of the building rose again. Rene was mumbling in various languages and at several times stopped to consult the text's Marcel had given him. A wrenching, churning feeling tugged at Marceaux, and he imagined a similar feeling swept through Marcel. It was like an unsteady fever. It was far from pleasant, but not painful. After a minute or two of wrestling, Rene stopped chanting and the feeling (along with the plague) had gone. "How do you feel?" he asked Marceaux "Ready to take down the beast?"

GM Vinegar was not so hard to buy - almost every store had a bottle of some kind of another. Admittedly, the sight of Marceau carrying the poor old woman raised a few eyebrows, but a convenient story lowered them again. Later, at the house of Marcel... "Come in come in" said Marcel "Rene is just setting up the ritual. He has done most of the work, with the aide of my meagre library. I confess I have not been of much assistance. And bring your, err...friend...in..." he added, gesturing to the old woman. In truth he did not look so well, he was sweating profusely and had bloodshot eyes. He had some unpleasant blotches on his skin. "I guess that's another old crone you have infected, eh? we best stop this as soon as possible. Have you all the ingredients? are you ready?"

post away ic!

"He was quite reasonable" replied Supercape, honestly. "And he struck me as an astute man. He would probably have to be, to rise to his rank. Even if he did have his prejudices, he restrained them. I can't say he strikes me as a man who is ruled by his passions, or has his judgement unduly clouded". "On the other hand, there is no reason to confirm any suspicions he has by making a mess of things. I imagine we are close to the site by now?" he asked. He spared a quick glance at the other heroes, assessing their state of readiness, and indeed, tiredness. He hoped they were reasonably well rested at least. "If so, then the mission proper has begun!"

GM Nora was, for the first time, showing signs of nervousness when Nick performed his ritual.Impatience too. "Hurry ups! Hurry ups! No tricking Nora!" she hissed, eyeing the Necromancer carefully as he dutifully performed the deed. Whilst the build up for the event was long, arcane, and, to many, tedious, the actual transformation was brief. Mercifully brief, for it induced pangs of agony and visible distortions in Nora's form. She yelled to the heavens as her eyes shone with black light and her breath became alive with horrible ghostly forms. Her screaming was short but horrible. She collapsed to the floor, arcane smoke dispersing from her form. Heaving with exertion, and clearly exhausted, she looked up. Her face was sallow still, and malnourished. But it was different. The glaze, the hunger, the pallid nature of her flesh had gone. Yes, it looked human again. "Its....finished...." she whispered. She still looked like she needed a good meal.

GM Marceau reached out and grabbed the old lady with both hands. For all the foul demonic power that had infested the shop, the vessel was still that of a frail old lady, and as he took her in his hands, he realised she was nothing but a mortal portal for Gallu. A rasping noise came from her mouth, and she seemed to shrink slightly, and collapse in his hands. "oooooh...." she gasped, fainting. As she did so, a belch of red and black fire and shadow spewed forth with her breath straight into Marceau's face. A poisonous, evil smoke and brimstone - the last wisp of Gallu's possession before it evaporated into the ether.

Ok She can't beat that - only a little old lady! The last puff of the demon is a Fort Damage Save DC 15.

"Scoundrels" replied Lord Steam with distaste written all over his face. "Well, I am sure I can look into this for you. A few possible avenues of enquiry form in ones mind, and a few possible contacts are available" he pressed his fingers together. "Under lock and key, however, rubs against the grain. Habeus Corpus and all that. Now, if this man was to agree to be my guest, for an afternoon, say, for his own protection, of course, whilst I sort out this matter. That would be an entirely different matter." He gave Oshima a delicate but firm look. "What say you Sir? an afternoon of Tea and billiards? and, of course, freedom from having your lungs filled with lead by your less than unscrupulous associates? I can assure you that Steam Manor is quite secure in that regard..." Oshima's head was in a spin, but his instinct for self preservation was not, and he did not require a lot of persuasion to agree. A few hours later... "Here you go, my lady..." said Lord Steam to Carrie, presenting her with some scribbled notes in what was rather elegant handwriting from what she could only guess was a quill. "A few enquiries and a little silver, and I have the address and names of your villains. A Mr. Garrod, known in the trade as 'Blowfish', operates out of 42 Littlepond Street in Grenville, no less. Quite respectable, by all accounts, nice little mansionette there. And several hired thugs. "

I take exception to that! Rene is French!!! On the latter point, I am mulling over exactly how female Synth is. But my experience with v1, Slick, is that it is better to come down on one side of the fence just for ease of reference!