The Silver Streak had to grin at their enthusiasm. So they had a lead after all. "Excuse me, officer," he steps away from the policemen to stand with the other two heroes "But you heard the lady." He wasn't sure how he felt about having a minor with him in the midst of danger, but she seemed to be able to take care of herself. At the very least, he could make sure to watch her back.

"Lead the way." He nods to the walking dragon.

Scorch Scale felt a little pride bubble in being believed by a longer lived hero.

"I got this." He said out loud, for the others but more for himself. He got this, as Scorch Scale, Saul has this in the bag. He should be able to get out without further injury, because that would bring complications into his life if he needed to visit a doctors... Or a vet...

Putting his concerns aside, he put more focus onto his senses and what they picked up to follow the trail by rubber and heat.

The trail leads for blocks. It is determined that Scorch Scale and Patch-Work Powerhouse will crouch on the hood of the police car (holding onto some of her tendrils that anchor her to the hood of the car), and he points the way forward, following his nose...

The trail leads to an alleyway not far away... but while the smell is strong there, the truck is absent... sniffing around further... Ah ha! The truck was clearly in the alley for a little while, but then it continued on down the street... paused at a stoplight...

They see the truck again in the parking lot of a police station. There are a lot of police hanging around.

"Someone take this guy and put 'im in a holding cell, fast," says Al the policeman, dragging the body of Blue Dragon out of the back of the squad car. "Some new powered criminal, apparently got electrical shock powers, when he's awake. Get him under lock and key, fast, and then we can negotiate with 'im after he wakes up."

They do so.

"What the heck are those things on yer hood, Al?" another policeman asks.

"More powered vigilantes, apparently, like Silver Streak. He vouches for 'em... says they helped with that 'Blue Dragon' guy. What's the story on this truck? It's what the Blue Dragon was fighting over."

"We dunno, we were just trying to figure that out. Someone started a fire in the cab with straw and a lighter. We put it out, but there was a note on the windshield that said 'check the flat back.' We've been tryin' t' figure it out. None of the tires are flat, not even the spare... the bed of the truck's got wooden crates in it, looks like they're filled with farm equipment, rakes and hoes and things..."

As the police discussed their findings Frankie motioned her fellow vigilantes to come closer, then when they were close enough she whispered, "Are all bobbies this dense or is it just this lot?"

It was odd, though seemed like an accent was there with the child, or at least some terms that made no sense. But in this case, Scorch Scale understood what was meant through sensible conclusions.

Though the dragon would reply in whisper, it still held something uncanny in how it came across. "Are you suggesting that the poor souls might have missed out what a secret compartment is? Probably a floor for these tools to rest within the crates that hides the real goods. Many a treasure has tried to deny themselves a place within a dragon's hoard through that little trick."

Scorch Scale came with that idea through something he did as Saul. Even now, the original book to cause his draconic power was hidden away by a similar deception in his bedroom.

Silver Streak rubs his chin for a moment. After hearing the other two he quickly snaps his fingers. "Sounds like you're on to something. If you two can get the police attention, I'll zip in and get rid of those crates - see if we can't get a closer look at that truck."

"Distraction, got it." she whispered with a nod, then turned to the police with a glowing smile.
"Officerrrrrs!" she cooed in a horrible impression of an American accent, "Brave heroes like you are just the reason I wanted to become a crime fighter!"  moving between them she positioned herself so that they would all be facing away from the truck.

Patch-Work Powerhouse does in fact get the policemen to all pay attention to her. "Er... that's very flattering, but, um... what are you...?" one asks...

Scorch Scale admired the initiate the kid had. But in case she might stumble, he decided to speak of something that might burden their minds.
"Clearly a superhero in the works, we all have to start somewhere.
Now, look, officers. I was wondering how prepared the NYPD is for magic? Or rescue services for that matter. If it would be a benefit, I could put some time aside for a talk on early signs of magic crime before the big lights show, some small measures that can be an aid, stuff like that. How might you say I would go about that, gentlemen?"

"Magic?" says one policeman. "Why? Are you going to do a trick?"


 

"You mean you're serious? I guess in a world that has Silver Streak and powered criminals in it, nothin's impossible anymore... so... I guess the answer is that we are not remotely prepared for magic. We were sort of hoping we could leave stuff like that to people like Silver Streak... and I guess people like you...?"

"Are you expecting some big magical trouble?" asks another policeman.

"Sounds like he should speak to the commissioner, to me," one policeman says to another.

"Or the mayor."

"Yeah, like they'll let 'im talk to the mayor."

"Who's gonna stop 'im, if 'e wants?" the first cop whispered. "You?"

"Oh," whispered the second cop. "Right... This is outta my pay grade..."

"Naturally I'm going to be operating as a hero like silver Streak, like I presume our friend here wants to as well. Also naturally, I'm not expecting something to happen. I'm just aware of it as a possibility, as Silver Streak is aware of the sort of powered criminals he has had to deal with so far. I'm sure the previous arrangement will work quite well for now, though it helps to know who I might need to arrange a meeting with. I would like to thank you both for informing me of this."

This line of dialogue has their attention for the moment of time at least. Scorch Scale hoped that Silver Streak would have an easy enough time with those crates.
So he turned back to one of the officers in particular, Al was it? "Say, you said before that a friend, Connor was it? Mentioned this possible gun running. Did he mention any other details that might explain what groups are involved or such?"

"...In what way are you aware of some sort of magical thing being a possible upcoming problem?" asks an officer. "Because personally, I wasn't aware of some sort of magical thing being a possible upcoming problem until just now when you said so. So... what makes you say so?"




"Ah, no, that's just it... the buyers are gangs, criminals, people like that... but we don't know a thing about who's doing the selling. And that's weird. It doesn't seem to be any of the usual suspects"

"It is a possibility because magic users have been around since the dawn of history. Sometimes you hunted them down, sometimes praising or worshiping their power and sometimes they were out of sight and out of mind. Salem, Pendle, North Berwick, Bamberg, the list goes on for just the witch trials alone. Never mind the wizards or mystics or shaman and then the monsters of the far, deep and hidden."

Realising that just their existence alone might not justify concern, it was decided that an example reason was needed. Scorch Scale takes a folded up newspaper from inside the police vehicle and before they can protest quickly demonstrates his point. On one of the pages, an article on some of the work Silver Streak does is visible, pondering a dozen questions about him as journalists do. "See here? This is a culture that exists right now. Everyone is looking to the next big thing to talk about. Attention seekers might see this as a big chance to do something, or those who with worrying circumstances to take care of might find it easy to get a few goons and commit the big crimes for power or paying something big."

Feeling like that matter should be finally at rest, Scorch Scale decides to focus on the other matter. "So who would be the unusual sellers that are known?"

Muttered: "They have?"



Muttered: "Does he mean Bamberger's, in Jersey? My ma shops there..."



"...So you're saying that you know that magic exists, so if a magical criminal exists... they're gonna wanna come here and mess with people like Silver Streak."

"Is that why you look like a dragon?" another cop asks. "Magic?"




"That's just it... none. There must be someone like that out there, but, well, this stuff all just started happening this year... I figure maybe it's the mob? Tryin' t' make money off fear of powered heroes? And powered criminals? And their henchmen?"

"Nah, it don't feel like th' mob..." says another cop. "It's gotta be some new criminal behind it... Someone powered."

Silver Streak was satisfied with how thoroughly distracted the police officers were. Without further delay he zips over to the truck and removes the crates to expose the bottom of the truck, and what may be hidden inside.

(Where does he remove them to, exactly?)

In reply to The Grandmaster (msg # 67):

That's an excellent question! He stacks them neatly behind a police car.

(Roll + Forceful, please, Silver Streak... twice.)

20:27, Today: Silver Streak rolled 4 using 2d6-1 with rolls of 2,3.

Uh oh.

(Silver Streak gets 1 point of XP.)

Silver Streak places the first crate behind a police car.

But as he grabs the second crate and starts to move it, it slips out of his hands-- because he wasn't ready for how much heavier it is than the first.

When he drops it, the lid comes off.

Inside the crate are a lot of brand-new pistols, but with no serial numbers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:38, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

Hearing the clatter coming from the truck Frankie looked over, her eyes going wide at the plethora of guns.

"That's some funny looking farm equipment." she said as she looked at the police.

The officers come over and look. "...Um, yeah, we just opened one crate..." There's a pause, and then they rush back to the back of the truck.

Every crate is opened. Of the four crates, the one at the front and the one at the back are full of rakes and hoes and things. The two that were in the middle are full of unregistered pistols.

The policemen are very impressed. Two run off to ask questions of Blue Dragon as soon as he wakes up. One runs to get the prosecuting attorney involved in this. One runs to get the commissioner on duty. Another goes to get people from the forensic lab to come and check the truck and the guns (and the farm equipment, for that matter) for prints. The rest prepare to enter the pistols as evidence (once forensics gives the go-ahead).

"Guns," Siver Streak snaps his head up and looks at Scorch Scale "Just as you thought - good instincts." He lets the officers get to work and pulls the two heroes aside. "This was a good start, but it's not over. There may be a bigger fish supplying these firearms." The Streak pauses, glances around and leans in with a hushed tone "And I don't know about you, but I'd like to find that woman in black and see what's really going on."

He straightens up and claps his hands. "Tell you what. Keep your ears to the ground and let me know if you learn anything, and I will do the same." He rummages through his pockets and produces a scrap of paper, scribbles down a company name and hands it to the two younger heroes "Just send a me a courier through this agency. They'll think it's a prank, but word will get to me."

"My apologies on her. I think I sensed her during the conversation, but I couldn't find an easy enough a way to check without dropping the distraction.
So we shall need to see what she is about."

Getting a map, Scorch Scale points to where he proceeds to describe. "As for communicating, I think I know of something where I can talk to you guys. There is a public bin along where 5th avenue and E 96th Street meet, near the park. I'll check it for mail if you guys need me."

There were other ways to communicate, faster ways, but Saul needed to preserve his distance between human and draconian identities. Make it seem like Scorch was always roaming around as himself. The best secret identity would be people thinking his heroic identity had none at all.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:42, Fri 10 Aug 2018.

Frankie made a mental note of the number and the address, she hoped she wouldn't misremember, she had to look professional after all!
"You can....er.... you can...." suddenly she realised she had nothing to offer the others in way of contact information, she doubted her Auntie would like her handing her phone number out to strange men, even if one of them WAS the great Silver Streak!
"I'll figure something out." she ended lamely.