Sunday, July 21, 2019

Crusade: Issue 56 - Terror in the Storm!


The storm continued to show its fury. The Cyborg Crusader talked to the mother and her children. "Ma'am, I am StrikeForce, I'll be getting you and your children out of here."

"Thank you so much, my name is Jennifer, and these are my kids." She pointed to them as she named them. "Megan, James and George."

The Cyborg Crusader broke down his plan for the worried mother of three. "Jennifer, I'm going to take Megan first, then George, followed by James and then finally you."

StrikeForce thought, "No mom is going to leave until her kids are out first, and this should allow the oldest kid to look after the other two until mom gets there with them."

StrikeForce leaped with Megan in his arms. When he landed on the hovercraft he slipped. As he started to fall over the side he extended his glider wings to allow him to land back on the van. He jumped back onto the Hovercraft with Megan.

StrikeForce said something vaguely about second time being the charm and made sure Megan was securely in one of the seats. He reaped the sequence three more times getting her brothers and mother into the hovercraft.

Once everyone was safely secured into to the seats, StrikeForce prepared to take team to safety but … where?

Not far away in the bus on the bridge, Pete he couldn’t tell if it was the bus sliding through the breach in the wall or the sight of a colossal gorilla leaping and climbing towards the stricken vehicle that was causing his classmates to scream the most.

Time froze…

Lightning arced across a darkened skyline as the rain seemed to intensify, as if fighting the colossal creature climbing towards the stricken bus. Poised in a deadly balance the bus rocked gently whilst inside the muffled screams and cries of its young occupants could be heard.

Inside Ned and Pete were bellowing as best they could at their classmates to stay still or move to the back of the bus. It was chaos but their actions were having some impact.

TWANG!

A cable snapped under tremendous pressure and smashed against the bus like an angry cobra strike. Pivoting on its balance point the weighted end of the bus rotated around and began to topple backwards towards a drop into certain watery doom!

Wildman leapt, powerful legs propelled him forward as he reached over the bus to grab one of the snaking cables. With his trailing arm he struck the bus forcing the rotation further. The accelerated spin swung the bus full circle but drove it off its pivot point. With the prehensile grip of his feet Dr Wildman grasped the bus, caving in steel and glass as his toes gripped ever tighter. Grasping a second cable he hauled with all his might like a male gymnast on the most unconventional ring apparatus praying the cables would stay secure in their upper mountings.

With a final pull the bus was steadied on the bridge as bedraggled, shocked and bloodied children spilled from the now open doors. Dr Wildman cancelled the spell and reverted to his human form, sat just behind the bus breathing heavily.

Ned and Pete warily walked over to the seated hero: “Thank you...mister…??? I’m sorry; we are not sure who you are.” “Dr Wildman” panted the drenched druid, “and it's a pleasure...but I suggest you…”

ZZZAAP!

Dr Wildman couldn’t finish his sentence as a blinding bolt of lightning threw the two teenage scholars backwards from the dynamic druid. William blinked away the blindness of the sudden flare. Strange - he didn’t feel the usual ozone impact of a lightning strike. He’d suffered many such impacts as part of his training with the Cowl of Storms. No - the lightning wasn’t striking him it was arcing out of him, it was as if the eldritch energies in his Cowl were now being drawn into the storm itself.

ZZAAAPP!

Another strike arced away from him into the sky! He used the switch enchantment to deactivate the Cowl and checked the stunned boys. They were unharmed, the flare rather than the electricity had knocked them away - they were simply dazed.

DR WILDMAN...THIS IS TEACHER...PLEASE RESPOND!

“Dr Wildman here” replied William.

“DR, YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED AT FEAR ISLAND SUPER-PENITENTIARY. IT WOULD APPEAR THAT THE INDIVIDUAL KNOWN AS STORMLORD IS UNDER SOME SORT OF DISTRESS REGARDING HIS CONNECTION TO THE PREVAILING WEATHER CONDITIONS. AS THIS IS YOUR AREA OF EXPERTISE AND THE INDIVIDUAL IS KNOWN TO YOU THE AUTHORITIES HAVE ASKED FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE IN THE MATTER. I AM FORWARDING A VIDEO FEED TO THE HOVERCRAFT FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION.”

Dr Wildman clapped his hands: “Size of a falcon!” and with a nimbus of green eldritch energies where Dr Wildman once stood now flapped a falcon that took off into the rain diving towards the Crusader transport below. “If the storm was drawing energy from the cowl” he mused “then Stanislas is in for a world of pain if it's drawing off his own biology.”

Meanwhile two soaked and bedraggled teenagers looked at each other with massive grins and all they had seen, experienced and survived and instinctively gave each other the secret handshake they had developed since they were 6 years old as a celebration of all that had happened!

{Location: Fear Island Super-Penitentiary}

First there was the distinct yet familiar sound of a teaspoon circling a china cup. The darkness fractured away as the harsh light crashed through tired eyes. The overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that had momentarily and mercifully retreated in unconsciousness, crashed back.

Stanislas looked at his arms to discover his usual orange prison issue overall was covered with an unfamiliar dark green jacket, the hood of which was pulled over his head. He stretched his arm out, splaying each hand as if willing the ache he felt in every limb to somehow flow from his fingertips.

Stanislas Laird, third Earl of Darkshire reached out with his gift. No, not a gift...his birthright! His weak father had refused to wield the power that his own father had bestowed upon their lineage. Nothing. Stanislas’ face almost betrayed his feelings of loss until he was aware that someone else in the room was chuckling.

Across the table in a barren interview room sat a familiar figure pouring a second cup of tea whilst pushing the first towards the man known as Stormlord.

“Evening Stanislas”

“Oh, it's you...hello William.” It wasn’t a friendly greeting, but there was a reluctant admission of acceptance that revealed the two men knew each other. There was a mutual comfort in hearing each other’s English accents, unfamiliar for many months since both now resided in the States.

“How are you feeling?” asked Dr Wildman kindly.

“Void" sighed the tempestuous terrorizer, "I have nothing left in the tank and it would seem…” Stormlord pulled at the jacket “...I have you to thank that I can’t…feel this...” He looked upwards as another peel of thunder echoed above the prison.

“I can tell from your face you have as much of an idea about this storm as I do.”

“It’s supernatural rather than natural, that much I know...but even you would know that.” Stormlord sipped at his tea unable to help the condescending comment. William Wildman was nothing more than a media celebrity who through a mistake of fate wielded the very mystical artifact that was the source of his birthright. Back then the Cowl of Storms took on the form of the ‘Sword of Storms’ and was wielded by his Grandfather Excalibur during World War 2.

Wildman ignored the other Englishman’s attitude as if this was the normal way the two interacted. “Yes...and it looks like this storm is drawing mystical energy from the cowl and ...from you. Fortunately the Cowl has an off switch and let me remind you it's that which is stopping the storm from leeching the very life out of you.”

Stormlord nodded. It wasn’t a thank you but it was as close as Dr Wildman was going to get.

“Ironic isn’t it that you finally get to wear the Cowl and yet it's the only thing keeping you alive for the moment."

If Stormlord was internally reacting to that comment his externals were not betraying it.

"Listen Stanislas, this storm is unlike anything the Earth has ever encountered and as arrogant and self-centered as you are - you are still the one person on this planet who has the knowledge and connection to this storm that might give us a clue as to how to fight it.”

To underline his point Dr Wildman tapped the laptop beside him and the BBC 24 hour news feed began to show the worldwide devastation that the storm was causing.

“So Stanislas, I’m asking you...for the sake of the planet - is there any clue you can give me that can help us at this time?”

Stormlord gazed harshly into Dr. Wildman’s eyes. A multitude of ways to inform the good doctor on how to catch a clue raced through his mind. All were wonderfully condescending and dismissive to show once again that he, a third rate reality “Telly” star, was inferior to the third Earl of Darkshire. But Stanislas was too tired and hurt too much to bother with it. Finally the grandson of Excalibur said.

“My grandfather told me magic always has a master. Find the master.”

Adamas headed into the storm, using his heightened senses to find those in need. In the distant he saw a Gulfstream jet blown off course by the violent winds. There were 3 people on board. It was starting a rapid descent and there wasn’t a landing field nearby. It was going to crash.

In the plane he heard the screams of the passengers. He recognized the sound of Jessica’s voice. Jessica is on the troubled plane and she was screaming in terror.

Adamas scanned the plane with his ethereal vision to see if he could determine if the problem was mechanical, or if the weather was causing the problem, or if it's was just the weather. It wasn’t mechanical. The storm was too strong for it and was forcing it down as its wind gusts were stronger than the plane’s propulsion.

 "There's no way I can lift that thing, but I know I can get the passengers to safety." 

Adamas flew underneath the plane. Maybe combining his flight ability with the plane’s propulsion he can assist the pilot in safely landing the plane.

{GM Note: Do you want to push to add to your flight and strength? I will allow you to spend 4 Power Points to push each.}

All of CAST watched the storm from inside the mall.

Skink
Cannon

Green Peace
 
Manta-Lad

Power Plant

Rapidfire

Rapidfire said, “We need to get the crowds into the designated storm shelters. I see too many are recording video on their phones instead of moving.”

Canon said, “So Sis, how should be handle this? I can reinforce the windows or provide cover. Skink could help me barricade the windows or he could help you with getting those Youtubers to move?”

“Skink what do you want to do, any ideas?”

Skink stared out the windows. The storm raged with such ferocity and the people inside were about to panic.

Skink said, “We need to divide up. Manta-Lad, Rapidfire, and I will take care of helping the people to safety. The rest of you reinforce the roof and windows to withstand the destruction the storm is causing outside.”

Rapidfire speed off to a group of elderly men and women that were screaming as the glass started to crack above them.

Manta-Lad flew toward a group of kids with their teacher. The kids were all screaming and crying. They weren’t listening to their teacher.

Skink leaped down to a group of 8 teenage girls that were more interested in getting selfies with the storm in the background then moving to the storm shelters. One of the girls squealed, “A Crusader! We have to get selfies with Reptile-Man.

The rest of CAST moved out to perform their assigned tasks.

Black Orchid and Demolisher made it to the CHESS office. The Black Orchid introduced herself. She doesn't seem winded at all and immediately composed herself.

"Hello, I'm The Black Orchid. These are my credentials", she showed the official, and these are my colleagues Manta-Man and... Demolisher, correct?" After they approved her entrance, she immediately started with her slightly accelerated, activated voice, indicating her mind was almost moving too fast for her ability to speak. "I need access to all of the weather data - local, government, private over the past 24 hrs in a 250 mile radius from here. I'll also need unrestricted access to CHESS supercomputer 427B for performing data analytics. I am currently working with Manta-Man from the Crusaders here to help coordinate rescue efforts. I am also willing to liaise with FISH or other hero organizations if need be. Manta-Man, Demolisher, you two can go back and help with rescue efforts or you can stay here if you wish."

Manta-Man was watching the CHESS monitors. They were focused on the city streets because of the storm. Manta-Man pointed to the screens. “Demolisher, on this screen there has been a building that has crashed on a parking garage entrance. The drivers are trapped inside and the water is flooring the first level. That is where we need to go”

Manta-Man headed to the exit. “Demolisher are you coming?”

Nodding his head, “yes”, Demolisher followed Manta-Man to the parking garage.  He went go to the exit that was blocked and took a look.  He spit into his hand and rubbed them together before pulling out his Hammer.  "Let's see how we can open up a new emergency exit here!" Carefully he examined the debris and the wall. He was looking for a weakness he could exploit which would open up a hole big enough for people to get out.

WHAM!

Demolisher struck the wall. It cracked.

WHAM!
WHAM!

Two more strikes with his magic sledgehammer were all it took for him to create a hole large enough that he could walk through it.

Looking through he could see that most of the people were in their cars. Should he open the hole enough for the cars to drive through or would it be better to tell them to get out of their cars and swim over here. The Demolisher needed to decide what he would do next to help.

As Demolisher was deciding what to do next, Manta-Man flew up to the next level. He flew in through a window and down to the bottom floor. He dove into the water. He searched the murky waters for anyone who was drowning or on the verge as their car filled with water.

Overlooking from the roof of nearby apartment stood a new hero, Patty Plus.

Patty Plus discovered a nearby apartment building was on fire. She could see the people inside attempting to use the fire escape but the storm had made the escapes unstable. The groan of metal threatening to break free and send the helpless men, women, and children falling to the street below, she knew they needed her help.

The Black Orchid immediately set to work … she started typing; "Now where did this storm start...?"

To her shock, the Engineering Genius discovered the storm started in the center of Megalopolis. It appeared without any of the typical markers or indicators. There weren’t any pre-emergent winds. There was nothing then there was the storm. The Brilliant CHESS Bishop quickly concluded the storm wasn’t following any known weather patterns or even any of the basics of meteorology. This was not a question for science as what happening isn’t following the first tenet of science which is that it is demonstrable and repeatable. This had to be magic.

The Black Orchid opened the communications link with F.I.S.H. 

<Turns and Actions due August 3rd>

GM Note: We have a new player; please welcome Shane to our game. Here is a list of all our players and their PCs.

Player               PC
Jon                   Adamas
Marc                 Black Orchid
Chris                 Demolisher
Steve                Dr. Wildman
Shane               Patty Plus
Chuck               Skink
Jamey              StrikeForce

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 What are the names and ages of the occupants of the minivan that StrikeForce is trying to rescue.

Jamey
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Jennifer (Mom) - 32

Megan - 12
James - 9
George – 4

Tom
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Do you need a complete write up all at once, or are we doing a running dialogue?  

Jamey
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I am good with either way. If you would like to write it all that is fine with me. Or we could email the dialogue together

Tom
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I would like to email back and forth

Jamey
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 The storm continues to show its fury. The Cyborg Crusader talks to the mother and her children. "Ma'am, I am StrikeForce, I'll be getting you and your children out of here."

"Thank you so much, my name is Jennifer, and these are my kids." She points to them as she names them. "Megan, James and George."

The Cyborg Crusader breaks down his plan for the worried mother of three. "Jennifer, I'm going to take Megan first, then George, followed by James and then finally you."

StrikeForce thinks, "No mom is going to leave until her kids are out first, and this should allow the oldest kid to look after the other two until mom gets there with them."

OOC: StrikeForce will transport them one by one to the Hovercraft.

Jamey
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 StrikeForce leaped with Megan in his arms. When he landed on the hovercraft he slipped. As he started to fall over the side he .....

GM OOC: StrikeForce needed a 15 or less for his Parkour skill to get Megan to the Hovercraft safely. The d20 roll was 16, let me know what StrikeForce does next, it can be before he falls off or afterwards as he is falling

Thanks
Tom
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 StrikeForce will extend his glider wings to allow him to land back on the van, and attempt to jump back onto the Hovercraft.

Jamey
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 Jon,

Do you have any questions on the aircraft? Do you want to pump up the volume by having Jessica in the plane?

Thanks
Tom
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 I figured it was only a matter of time until she came into the story, on the plane or otherwise. 

Adamas scanned the plane with his ethereal vision to see if he could determine if the problem was mechanical, or if the weather was causing the problem, or if it's was just the weather.

"There's no way I can lift that thing, but I know I can get the passengers to safety." 

If he can assist the pilot, and get the plane down safely, he'll do so.  Otherwise, he'll try to make sure the plane won't hurt someone else when it goes down, and get the passengers out and to safety.

Jon
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chuck,

On the Mall, imagine those disaster movies where everyone is running in a panic. The Ceiling has huge windows/sky lights which trees are threatening to break sending giant shards of glass down on the shoppers. Instead of trees we could pump up the volume with motorcycles then compact cars.

Let me know if something sparks you interest for Skink and CAST. If this isn't it, let me know what would.

Thanks
Tom
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 Marc,

Do you want to go full on scientific mode with Black Orchid. She has access to all of CHESS equipment which is one step down from what Mr. Fantastic has or we can pump of the volume making it state of the future that would complete with Reed Richards or Tony Stark.

If scientific mode doesn't do it for you let me what would?

Thanks
Tom
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 Chris,

If you want me to give you more description of the parking garage let me know. The key points are all the exits are blocked by falling debris and since the lowest level is below street level it is being flooded. The exit needs to be cleared before the motorists drown.

Thanks
Tom
---------------------------------------------------------------------
 Hi Tom,
 So Demolisher will follow Manta to the parking garage.  He will go to the exit that is blacked and take a look.  He spits into his hand and rubs them together before [pulling out his Hammer.  "Let's see how we can open up a new emergency exit here!"  Using his find weakness ability he will find the best place to knock a hole in the debris or the wall to open it up for people to get out.  Once he accomplished this (assuming that he does ) he will use his strength to help get people out of the building and keep the exit open.

Thanks!
Chris
---------------------------------------------------------------------
 Hi Tom,

Hope you are well.

Great to hear from you and to start the next issue.

How much further do you want this part of the story line pushed along? Would you like me to bring the bus incident to a conclusion? Should I write up visiting Stormlord? Just wanted to check as we seem to be tacking on to where we left the last issue unless I missed something. I don't want to overstep where you want to take this part of the story line.

Cheers
Steve
---------------------------------------------------------------------
 I am playing this very free form. If you don't have a lot of interest playing the bus incident out and would rather get to Stormlord that is fine. If you want to do both we can Retcon Stormlord to prior to the current events, that way the Stormlord is played out as a flash back, something nagging at Dr. Wildman's mind as he is involved with the bus incident.

That is what I play on doing with the Dr Wildman and Donnah sequence. It will be a really nice tie in to the next act of this story.

Thanks
Tom
---------------------------------------------------------------------
 Hi Tom,

No worries, happy to go free form - just didn't want to overstep my input. Please do shout if I go off course at any time.

Steve
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 Hi Tom,

Here we go:

Time froze…

Lightning arced across a darkened skyline as the rain seemed to intensify, as if fighting the colossal creature climbing towards the stricken bus. Poised in a deadly balance the bus rocked gently whilst inside the muffled screams and cries of its young occupants could be heard.

Inside Ned and Pete were bellowing as best they could at their classmates to stay still or move to the back of the bus. It was chaos but their actions were having some impact.

TWANG!

A cable snapped under tremendous pressure and smashed against the bus like an angry cobra strike. Pivoting on it's balance point the weighted end of the bus rotated around and began to topple backwards towards a drop into certain watery doom!

Wildman leapt, powerful legs propelled him forward as he reached over the bus to grab one of the snaking cables. With his trailing arm he struck the bus forcing the rotation further. The accelerated spin swung the bus full circle but drove it off its pivot point. With the prehensile grip of his feet Dr Wildman grasped the bus, caving in steel and glass as his toes gripped ever tighter. Grasping a second cable he hauled with all his might like a male gymnast on the most unconventional ring apparatus praying the the cables would stay secure in their upper mountings.

With a final pull the bus was steadied on the bridge as bedraggled, shocked and bloodied children spilled from the now open doors. Dr Wildman cancelled the spell and reverted to his human form, sat just behind the bus breathing heavily.

Ned and Pete warily walked over to the seated hero: “Thank you...mister…??? I’m sorry, we are not sure who you are.” “Dr Wildman” panted the drenched druid, “and it's a pleasure...but I suggest you…”

ZZZAAP!

Dr Wildman couldn’t finish his sentence as a blinding bolt of lightning threw the two teenage scholars backwards from the dynamic druid. William blinked away the blindness of the sudden flare. Strange - he didn’t feel the usual ozone impact of a lightning strike. He’d suffered many such impacts as part of his training with the Cowl of Storms. No - the lightning wasn’t striking him it was arcing out of him. It was as if the eldritch energies in his Cowl was now being drawn into the storm itself.

ZZAAAPP!

Another strike arced away from him into the sky! He used the switch enchantment to deactivate the Cowl and checked the stunned boys. They were unharmed, the flare rather than the electricity had knocked them away - they were simply dazed.

DR WILDMAN...THIS IS TEACHER...PLEASE RESPOND!

“Dr Wildman here” replied William.

“DR, YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED AT (Sorry I forgot the name of the prison) IT WOULD APPEAR THAT THE INDIVIDUAL KNOWN AS STORMLORD IS UNDER SOME SORT OF DISTRESS REGARDING HIS CONNECTION TO THE PREVAILING WEATHER CONDITIONS. AS THIS IS YOUR AREA OF EXPERTISE AND THE INDIVIDUAL IS KNOWN TO YOU THE AUTHORITIES HAVE ASKED FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE IN THE MATTER. I AM FORWARDING A VIDEO FEED TO THE HOVERCRAFT FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION.”

Dr Wildman clapped his hands: “Size of a falcon!” and with a nimbus of green eldritch energies where Dr Wildman once stood now flapped a falcon that took off into the rain diving towards the Crusader transport below. “If the storm was drawing energy from the cowl” he mused “then Stanislas is in for a world of pain if it's drawing off his own biology.”

Meanwhile two soaked and bedraggled teenagers looked at each other with massive grins and all they had seen, experienced and survived and instinctively gave each other the secret handshake they had developed since they were 6 years old as a celebration of all that had happened!

Steve
-------------------------------------------------------------------
 Grounded!


First there was the distinct yet familiar sound of a teaspoon circling a china cup. The darkness fractured away as the harsh light crashed through tired eyes. The overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that had momentarily and mercifully retreated in unconsciousness, crashed back.

Stanislas looked at his arms to discover his usual orange prison issue overall was covered with an unfamiliar dark green jacket, the hood of which was pulled over his head. He stretched his arm out, splaying each hand as if willing the ache he felt in every limb to somehow flow from his fingertips.

Stanislas Laird, third Earl of Darkshire reached out with his gift. No, not a gift...his birthright! His weak father had refused to wield the power that his own father had bestowed upon their lineage. Nothing. Stanislas’ face almost betrayed his feelings of loss until he was aware that someone else in the room was chuckling.

Across the table in a barren interview room sat a familiar figure pouring a second cup of tea whilst pushing the first towards the man known as StormLord.

“Evening Stanislas”

“Oh, it's you...hello William.” It wasn’t a friendly greeting, but there was a reluctant admission of acceptance that revealed the two men knew each other. There was a mutual comfort in hearing each others English accents, unfamiliar for many months since both now resided in the States.

“How are you feeling?” asked Dr Wildman kindly.

“Void" sighed the tempestuous terroriser, "I have nothing left in the tank and it would seem…” StormLord pulled at the jacket “...I have you to thank that I can’t…feel this...” He looked upwards as another peel of thunder echoed above the prison.

“ I can tell from your face you have as much of an idea about this storm as I do.”

“It’s supernatural rather than natural, that much I know...but even you would know that.” StormLord sipped at his tea unable to help the condescending comment. William Wildman was nothing more that a media celebrity who through a mistake of fate wielded the very mystical artifact that was the source of his birthright. Back then the Cowl of Storms took on the form of the ‘Sword of Storms’ and was wielded by his Grandfather Excalibur during World War 2.

Wildman ignored the other Englishman’s attitude as if this was the normal way the two interacted. “Yes...and it looks like this storm is drawing mystical energy from the cowl and ...from you. Fortunately the Cowl has an off switch and let me remind you it's that which is stopping the storm from leeching the very life out of you.”

StormLord nodded. It wasn’t a thank you but it was as close as Dr Wildman was going to get.

“Ironic isn’t it that you finally get to wear the Cowl and yet it's the only thing keeping you alive for the moment."

If StormLord was internally reacting to that comment his externals were not betraying it.

"Listen Stanislas, this storm is unlike anything the Earth has ever encountered and as arrogant and self-centred as you are - you are still the one person on this planet who has the knowledge and connection to this storm that might give us a clue as to how to fight it.”

To underline his point Dr Wildman tapped the laptop beside him and the BBC 24 hour news feed began to show the worldwide devastation that the storm was causing.

“So Stanislas, I’m asking you...for the sake of the planet - is there any clue you can give me that can help us at this time?”

Steve
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