Play@YSDC

With the evening drawing in, the traffic in Guildford is relatively light. Nonetheless the A3 is still very busy, forcing you to queue, moving stop-start on your way to Down Lane.

Please make an Observation roll.

Des scowled out of the window, watching the world go by as she brooded on the days events…

Observation (60%) 1d100

1d%50%

Fail.

Skipper largely had his eyes shut, enjoying a brief pause.

Jordan can barely see a thing.

Observation roll (70% skill) at Down Lane:
d%

Observation: 60%

1d100

Hard success!

It seems like the police officers are the only ones actually keeping an eye out for anything as they drive down the A road, with Izzy's eyes being particularly keen. Even her usual flighty nature can't completely assuage the professional policewoman in her...

As soon as they get onto the highway, Leo bursts into song, belting out a pornographic verse of the "Hedgehog Song" that makes everyone in the car simultaneously blush and uncomfortable, including acts that, while clearly physically impossible, still intrigue. You may never eat parsnips again. But Leo will.

Observation (60/30): 1d100

It’s pretty dark, so it’s only the observational skills of our two trained police officers that allow them to spot the badly-dented Range Rover turning off the A3 a few vehicles ahead of you.

Checking your satnav, it’s obvious that it’s taken the same turning as you need to take to get to Down Lane.

A few seconds later, an Aston Martin DB7 roars past you, before pulling across into the correct lane (cutting up a motorist) and taking the same turning.

"James Bond over there sure seems in a hurry, and he's going the same way we are," says Jordan. "We'd better follow."

"Yep, and there's that that Range Rover," Leo said, grinning and pointing. "And it's headed our way, too."

Leo groans . "Party foul, Mr. Aston Arsehole." He says softly. "That's a party foul. If we weren't trying to get to Barry before they move him, we would have to issue you a citation."

Leo says to Jordan, nodding, a passable US southern accent, "I suspect we all may be headed for Satan's Toilet Bowl, or whatever the hell it's called."

"The Devil's Punchbowl," says Jordan. "That's where the moss that lets you see invisible stuff comes from. We should pick some up while we're here."

Skipper stirred from his snoozing, during which there had been snoring, somewhat in the manner of a giant bumblebee, except louder and less attractive. He had noticed nothing of racing cars passing by.

"Whazzit? Are we there yet? Can we stop and get ice-creams? I won't spill any. Is there a services on the way? We could get a choccy bar too, for a more balanced supper. If we stop at a services, just keep Leo away from flammables..."

"Ever feel like you're just going up and down the same places all the time?" Izzy asks, as the group travel yet again down the A3, considering the map seems to have so far been sending them up and down the same major road to get to and from every location thus far visited.

"Anyway, seems sus to me. And idiots like that are one of the reasons I don't own a car..."

Well, she's passed her test at least. Lack of actual need for a car living in Central London also plays a part. Skipper's mumbled words remind her of something too.

"By the way... you know Leo actually had to take the same training course they put firearms officers on, when he learned how to cast a Fireball? It's a requirement of the job. Since the spell can be lethal... anyone who knows it is treated as a firearms capable officer, except they're always armed and dangerous. Peter was telling me, he had to do the same." As Izzy speaks, she gives Leo a very pointed look.

She wonders about the merits of learning the spell herself at some point... then worries about accidentally burning down her flat with herself, Alice and Freya inside...

Having slept through it, Skipper listened to descriptions of the cars racing by with muzzy interest, possibly more focused on vanilla ice-cream and a mars bar. "Wonder if those cars are heading to the same spot on Down Lane that we are? Could be like a secret car wash but with detergent that makes their cars invisible?"

Skipper then registered what Izzy had just said. He looked at Leo skeptically, then back at Izzy. "You have got to be taking the proverbial."

"I'm not sure what I'm worrying about more now, your Old Bill firearms course, or every Met firearms officer in London."

"The Sweeney never burnt down a skittle hall while innocent skittlers had to leg it. Neither CI5."

Des yawned loudly. ”Are we there yet?!” she grumbled, in the manner of a petulant child… …

"Kind of makes me glad I don't use magic," says Jordan. "It's a heavy responsibility."

Leo winced. I am a strong and capable man... he repeated silently. I will buy a new skittles hall with my lotto winnings.

"Totally serious, mate," Leo replied to Snappers inquiry. "Nightingale beta tested the course with Peter; I was in the second training group. There is an actual firing range in the basement of The Folly where you learn the spell and qualify, casting at WWII-era standup targets. I cast over and over until I could hit the target every time, just like Grant did for Nightingale. I haven't burned down a building in well over a month now," Leo added. "And in the interim, I requested follow up training on methods of identifying valid targets, which is ongoing."

He nodded at Jordan. "You know, I dream about it sometimes...not ending as pleasantly. Just me there. No Skipper hitting the fire alarm. No friends calling 999. And when I try to use my phone, I sanded it. And..." Leo's voice trails off.

The roar of engines cut rudely through the conversation, as another sports car zooms past you. It turns off at the turning to Down Lane just before you reach it.

Following along a narrow B-road, you approach what appears to be a patch of flat scrubland. A number of sports cars, plus the Range Rover, are parked in a rough line.

Nearby, a number of middle-aged men, mainly wearing denim and leather jackets, are milling around a large, new-looking corrugated metal shed. They look up as you approach.

”Great! A boomer convention!” snarked Des from the back seat…

"Boomers who like to race invisible cars," says Jordan.

"I really can't wait to see you flamethrower a few expensive motors, Leo."

Skipper quickly turned his smartphone off again. He deftly pulled out the venerable Nikon film camera and started taking photos of car registrations and faces.

"Photos or it didn't happen, to quote from Boris Johnson's 'How to Pleasure Your Man' guidebook."

"I wonder how many of these voted UKIP at the last election. Even odds on it being all of them..." Izzy murmurs as the team approach in their own vehicle.

She notes Skipper's candid camera skills with approval, but then sighs as she realises it's going to be pretty difficult to gather any further evidence for the moment.

"This is going to be tricky... even flashing badges, there's no way this lot are going to make it easy for us to get any useful information. That said... Skip, you've got the right idea. This is exactly how we deal with boy racers too, even though they're usually half the age of these ones. Get the reg numbers, send them fines and court summons' in the post afterwards. Safer and easier than trying to chase them down on the streets."

"Especially if they can make their cars invisible," says Jordan.

Leo grinned. "Oi, I thought I would never want to cast that spell again, but I do fancy the thought of punching a hole in an Aston or Jag, now that you mention it," he replied.

"Even better, Izzy or I could sand the lot of them with one fell swoop, once everyone else was out of range. They would need a fleet of tow trucks..."

"I wonder what's in that shed. Invisible car juice?"

At the mention of sanding, Jordan pops the battery out of his phone, just in case.

A wicked grin crosses Izzy's face.

"I'd love nothing more than a chance to sand all of those flash cars... although better make sure our own car is nowhere near first. We don't want to be walking from here to the Devil's Punch Bowl."

Des followed Jordan’s example and slipped the battery from her phone. The edge of the case caught under her nail, causing her to swear. It did not improve her mood…

Listening to Izzy's plan, and Des's griping, Skipper smiled in saintly fashion. He left his backpack on his seat and jumped out with just the Nikon F3, and a few rolls of spare old-school film in a pocket.

"Well, one skinhead arm-lock doesn't justify my skipping BJJ training tonight. So I'm looking for a proper workout that means later I can head straight to the rub-a-dub instead."

"Which means I'm down for bodyguarding duties. Come on, Sweeney Voodoo twins, let's saunter over and you can wave the magic proverbials at their motors."

"I always thought I could take Clarkson or May in a clean dynamite. Hammond looked small but scrappy, but that was before his accident. No chance now, sadly."

Skipper continued snapping photos.

Skipper will insert himself between Team Folly and any angry super-car drivers, and if necessary stop such drivers by way of manly fisticuffs.

"I'm right with you," says Jordan, getting out of the car and following.

Des slipped out of the car, pulling up her hood. She stayed behind Skipper and Jordan, waiting for them to start cracking boomer skulls…

Leo grinned and followed suit with preparing his phone for battle. "Although, worst-case scenario, if we did end up nuking our ride by mistake, I imagine an Uber from this far out split six ways wouldn't be too dear. "

Once the car was a safe distance away, he climbed out as well. He walked back to the others, positioning himself behind Jordan and Skipper.

Well aware of the effects of magic on electricals, Izzy also makes sure her phone battery is out once again and positions herself in the group alongside Leo.

"Still a bit of a distance, but fair enough."

With that said, she starts making her way a bit closer towards the group of middle aged men, warrant card out ready to head off any of the obvious questions as to what exactly the team are doing here.

"Afternoon gentlemen, hope we're not intruding on anything fun! Just thought you should know, there's been a bit of trouble around here recently, lots of unfortunate incidents with angry drivers, so might want to be careful on your ways home, hmm?"

She realises that the 'Car Killer' spell, as Peter so eloquently named it, would be ideal for this, and she hasn't learned it - but Izzy hopes that getting close enough to the cars and weaving between them as she talks will suffice, if she can keep a werelight going low enough to not be obviously spotted, and just powerful enough to fry the electrics of every car she walks by...

Scowling, the men mutter among themselves, before one of them takes a step forwards.

"This a private meeting and you're on private property! No trespassing!" he yells, seemingly ignoring Izzy's words.

Leo steps up and behind Skipper, getting as close as he can to the row of cars. Then with Skipper covering his motions, he casts a boosted Werelight squarely in the boot of the center car in the row. Yes, he knew that Werelight didn't generate heat, but he wasn't taking chances these days. It went in the boot.

Leo is hoping the boosted Werelight is enough to sand the cars. He may work his way around for a second attempt, just for good measure.

Magic (70/35): 1d100

OOC:   It looks like if I want to actually move it, I need to upgrade to Bumblebee or Light Bulb.

"Looks like that Range Rover's been in an accident, says Jordan. "Would you like some help?"

Skipper contented himself with continuing very overtly to photograph the motley crew and their super-car rego's.

"And if you could point us to the owner or occupier, we can discuss our entering the property with them."

OOC:   BOOM! Bonus die not needed.

POW 80 (40): 1d100

Bonus Die (if needed): 1d10

Eli hovered around the back, watching the situation intently, then suddenly remembeeing to take the batteries our tof his phone.

[30] = 30
1d100: [ 30 ] = 30

The men seem very suspicious and on the alert, but nonetheless fail to spot Leo's antics. With a deft flick of the wrist, he subtly casts a werelight and moves in into the nearest car with a skill that would make Nightingale nod in appreciation.

As he does so, he senses a strong vestigia emanating from the car - the feeling of strong sunlight, the scent of tropical flowers and the chirruping of exotic birds and insects...

One of the men, a tall hawkish man dressed as a walking mid-life crisis, takes a step towards Skipper.

"Who gave you permission to take photographs? This is a private gathering! Go away!"

Another - a leather-clad man with an ill-advised comb-over - snarls at Jordan.

"Leave that Range Rover alone! It doesn't concern you!" He turns his head towards the barn-like structure. "Will! Trouble!"

Another man, someone you recognise from your research, emerges from the building. He is wearing what appears to be some sort of backpack, attached by a hose to some kind of spout that he holds in one hand.

"Bloody hell, it's the A-Team," says Will Grimes, sneering at you with obvious distain. "Bugger off the lot of you!"

Behind him, a short fellow with a sharp nose and pointed ears, hovers uncertainly.

Of course, Izzy recognises the man as he appears, both from the research of earlier, seeing his face plastered across TV stations and newspapers on numerous occasions, and more obviously, hearing the other guy shout for "Will" only a few seconds prior.

"Ah, Mr. Grimes, I presume? Just to point out, I'm pretty sure this is a public space, and we have as much right to be here as you do..."

She is still holding her warrant card out on full show, if only to make it clear to him that messing around will be a lot more trouble than it's worth if 'Grimesy' wants to try any funny business. After all, attacking a police officer carries a much more serious penalty than whatever else he might be up to here, and Izzy is certain that hurting either herself, Leo, or their colleagues, will result in a particular wrath from the rest of the local force for hurting one of their own.

And not even someone as famous as Will Grimes would be able to withstand the public scrutiny of attacking a serving police officer.

Before things can get out of control, however, she sees the pointy-eared fellow behind Will, and thinks she's realised something. She decides to switch tactics just a little, and suggest that their real target of interest is someone else entirely. Twisting the truth, just a bit...

"Don't worry, Mr. Grimes, you're not in any trouble here. We just want to know about an associate of yours, one Barry Flowers. He's the one we're after."

"Say cheese!" Skipper took a few nice photos of 'Grimesy', before continuing with head shots of the gathering. Then he deftly wound the film on, popped the old camera's rear open, the used film went into an inner jacket pocket and a new roll replaced it.

With a stunning lack of respect for shiny, expensive cars, Skipper plunked the camera down on someone's motor's bonnet, freeing up both hands.

"I will be honest with you, lads. I'm looking for a workout now that gives me an excuse to skip BJJ training tonight." Skipper adopted a quite proficient-looking martial arts stance. "Come on, pheasant pluckers, let's be having you then."

Offler damn it... Izzy thinks.

She doesn't say anything further, at least not yet, but on hearing Skipper's words she has to force herself not to sigh. She likes the guy, she really does. But this is exactly why, she figures, most police teams don't routinely work with civilian consultants. Him wanting to go toe to toe with a group of EDL-esque mouth breathers is completely at odds with her tried and tested police approach.

Hardly the sort of thing that might make Grimesy cooperate. Especially given the warnings about his connections to the powers that be...

"Easy there, mate," says Jordan to Skipper. "I'm sure they'll be cooperative. Besides, it would be a bit unfair for us to unleash our skills on this lot, and our training is important. You know what the Sensei would say."

Mr. Handy wrote: ↑Mon Nov 27, 2023 3:14 am You know what the Sensei would say."

"Kill them all and let God decide?"

"What would John Wick do?"

"The sensei is a man of great wisdoms." Skipper made no further aggressive move, however.

”Fuq me! It’s an boomer-off!” said Des in a volume that may, or may not, have been intended to have been heard by everyone…

Barry Flowers squeaks in alarm.

“I-I haven’t-“

A wave of Grimes’ silences him, however.

“If you want to speak to Mr. Flowers, you’ll have to go through my solicitor.” Will intones, smugly.

“And please don’t try to threaten us with your big apes. My security team will be here soon…”

He turns to his cronies - seven of them in all.

“…and these dudes don’t take kindly to threats I…”

Gonna need some Social rolls I think.

Social: 60%

1d100

Hard success! Or extreme if this were CoC rules!

"Let me guess, your solicitor is going to advise you not to say a single word, and accuse us of a stitch-up, until you can get your friends in the EDL or wherever to come and bail you out, and then accuse the biased police force and the liberal media of slander until we all get fired... I think I'm in the right area there. Trust me, please. This is the easy way, because otherwise I don't think your career would likely survive. One person has already died, and we just want to make sure nobody else does. You do know exactly what you're spraying all over your cars, don't you?"

Izzy's face is a porcelain mask of calm and serenity, the sweetest smile she can muster adorning her lips. If only he knew, that Folly cases don't tend to end up at the Old Bailey...

She's looking forward to the moment when the penny drops, and Grimesy realises he's being taken down by Team Diversity. Two people of colour, a gay man, and a lesbian, and the two token white guys to round them out...

Eli motions to the thug whose attempt to antagonise Skipper " Look my intellectually challenged good man, it really wouldn't be in your best interest to pick and fight with my friend here unless you fancy a night in the cells, and Mr Grimes, surely you can see the sense in co-operating with my colleague here both for legal and publicity reasons." Turning to Barry, "Your mother is worried about you."

"There's no need for any unpleasantness," says Jordan. "We're here to help."

Social roll (60% skill) confronting the racers:
d%

[87] = 87
1d100: [ 87 ] = 87

Your combined eloquence clearly has an effect on the men, for their fists unclench and they're demeanour softens.

"Look, we don't want any trouble okay? This just like a... a race meet... sort of," says the hawkish man.

For his part, Barry continues to squeak in alarm.

"My mum? She went away when I was little. You mean my nan? I didn't mean to worry her! And what do you mean, someone has already died?"

"I can't believe you're all listening to them!" snaps Grimes to his compatriots. "Look at them! That's the police's diversity quota summed up in one big leftie package! We don't have to take any crap from the likes of them!"

Shaking with barely concealed rage, he points a finger at you. However, his fellow car enthusiasts seem somewhat unconvinced.

"Maybe we should-" one replies, but is cut off by his leader.

"Maybe nothing! The Speed Demons have nothing to fear from this lot!."

Please can someone furnish me with a Read Person roll.

Read Person (60) 1d100

Edit: Arse! Sorry!

Des didn’t need to be able read people to know that there was all sorts of racist boomer arsehole in front of them…

Read Person: 60%

1d100

Regular success

Izzy can see the walls around Grimesy breaking down. If they can only keep working on that... get rid of his support, leave him standing alone... she doesn't care about the others. The reg plates alone will be enough for them, let them all taste a bit of justice with a fine or a court summons. Barry is a weak link, a crack in the mortar, and Grimesy is the big target... Izzy hears the tremor in Barry's voice, the quiver at the suggestion that someone has died, and she takes full advantage.

Her voice softens as she speaks directly to Barry. She deliberately ignores Will Grimes, letting his anger build up just that bit more... angry boomers make more mistakes, and make for easy pickings...

"That's right. Look, I know you never meant for that to happen... all of this, it's just a bit of fun, right? Just a hobby, something to do at the weekends... but someone really got hurt, and I think you know how. We just want to make sure that nobody else gets hurt like that. Okay?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Flowers, your nan is just fine," says Jordan. "We spoke to her earlier. We can take you to her."

Read Person roll (60% skill) about the assembled group:
d%

Holding a martial arts sparring stance, Skipper was examining his fingernails with a critical eye.

He was conscious of an element of disapproval from the Met core of this Folly team regarding his somewhat lively address to Grimes and Co. Given his contractor status, he decided a more conciliatory attitude might be in order.

"And I wonder, Mr Grimes," he began thoughtfully, "If by security team you are referring to the van load of skinheads who are variously unconscious, in need of medical attention, and without exception currently under arrest?" Skipper looked up from his cuticle assessment to Grimes and smiled innocently.

Jordan adopts a similar stance, though Skipper has much more experience with martial arts than he does. Still, Jordan makes up for it with extra strength and toughness. "Yeah, I didn't even break a sweat," he says. "One little punch and down that guy went."

Leo is unsure about joining in. He knows that he is exactly the type of person Grimesy hates, so he follows Izzy's lead and keeps his comments directed toward Barry.

"I bought a flower from your grandmother. She was in fine fettle when we left. No one understands better than me that sometimes things can...get out of hand and have unintended consequences. We can help you explain it to your nan. She'll understand..."

Read Person (60/30): 1d100

Eli casts his eyes over the group. All of the years of dealing with students from all walks of life, of reading the signs of all their personal struggles and triumphs pays off as he sees all the tells in all the 'Speed Demons' body language.

The ‘Speed Demons’ mutter among themselves; clearly your words have had an impact.

Reaching a consensus, they step back, hands up.

“Look, we’ll cooperate okay?,” says their spokesman. “If someone’s got hurt… that must be Karl right? I wondered why I hadn’t heard from him. Is he okay?”

Barry too is clearly affected by what you’ve had to say.

“It’s Karl who’s been hurt?” he squeaks. “W-what happened?”

Grimesy, however, seems too far gone to be swayed. His features contort into a snarl.

“You’re all pathetic! Feeble! Is this what the Speed Demons have come to? You’re a bunch of women!”

He hefts the pack on his back, before hooking Barry around the neck with one arm and pointing the nozzle in the other at the poor man’s face.

“Arrest those fools if you want, but you’re letting me and Barry go, or he’s getting a face full of Demon Flower juice!”

A few things race through Izzy's mind at the same time. First and foremost being, that Grimes at least knows of the supernatural powers of the Demon Flower Juice, having seen cars turn invisible from it. So he must know about the demi monde, or at least have some inkling of the existence of magic. Second, he must know that the juice has ill effects on those who get sprayed, presumably putting the pieces together on hearing about Karl. Third, he's desperate enough to not care if somebody else lives or dies.

"So you want to add murder to the rap sheet? You know they'll eat a celebrity like you alive in prison, right?"

In her mind, Izzy prepares the forma and words for Impello Palma. If she can aim it right and just shoot the nozzle out of Grimes' hands, before he can squeeze the trigger...

Seeing the way that things were starting to go down, Des checked her phone battery again, while taking cover behind the largest object she could find… … (Jordan!)

"There's no need for any of this, Mr. Grimes," says Jordan. "Word came down from on high that you're to be left alone - unless you do something stupid like commit murder in front of a bunch of witnesses. Seems you've got friends. Of course, the people here who were formerly your friends aren't going to be so kindly disposed to you any more now that you've insulted and abandoned them. I'm sure they'd be willing to testify against you if you were to do something drastic. But none of that needs to happen. Just let Mr. Flowers go, and you're free to get in your car and zoom off."

"Right, so much for my workout."

Skipper picked up his camera and started shooting photos of Grimes. "Don't worry, Mr Grimes, I'm sure I can get some of these into the Daily Mail or the Sun. Any publicity is good publicity, right?"

"TV personality sexually assaults ugly man with garden pesticide sprayer. No offence, Barry."

Between photos, he pondered for a second. "Actually, the Guardian might even publish these. Not my normal clientele, granted, but the far Left probably could lower themselves to a bit of gutter press for a minute if it meant making a neo-fascist like you look like a psychopathic tosser."

[81] = 81
1d100: [ 81 ] = 81

Grimes snorts at your words. It is clear he has no intention of letting Barry go.

Until Skipper starts taking photos and insulting him that is…

Shoving Barry aside, he raises the nozzle of his sprayer.

“Screw you, you big oaf!”

DEX roll please Skipper, and anyone else who wants to act.

DEX roll: 60%

1d100

Magic roll for Impello Palma: 60%

1d100

Izzy sees the action before Grimes even has a chance to undertake it, and dodges to the side and away from the aimed nozzle of the spray pack, making sure to not get any of the Demon Flower Juice on her if her foe manages to pull the trigger. At the same time, she brings up her hand as the forma comes to her mind, focused on aiming for the nozzle itself, not to destroy it, but to push it out of Grimesy's grip. She fires off an Impello Palma, hopefully sending the nozzle flying out of Grimes' hands and out of harm's way...

OOC:   Izzy - I believe Grimes is wearing a backpack containing the stuff, with a hose attached that he is holding. Like a pesticide sprayer thing.

1d%d60%

Oops. Can Skipper spend 31 Luck to make that a success?

oh dear..

Seeing Grimesy about to spray Eli attempts to move out the way......slips towards Grimesy.

Jordan is slow to react.

DEX roll (40% stat) to act fast:
d%

DEX (75) 1d100

Having taken shelter behind Jordan, Des found herself caught flatfooted when his own attempt to get out of the way failed…

Leo knows speed isn't one of his strengths, so he starts casting as soon as he sees Grimesy throw. He steps in front of Skipper and raises his shield. "Aer congolar," he murmured, hoping the invisible barrier would stop the dangerous liquid.

My plan is to sustain the shield for as long as he sprays.

Magic (70/35): 1d100

I spent 2 MP on the boosted Werelight, and 2 on this Level 2 spell, so I currently have 14 MP remaining.

Snapper wrote: ↑Tue Dec 05, 2023 12:15 am

OOC:   Izzy - I believe Grimes is wearing a backpack containing the stuff, with a hose attached that he is holding. Like a pesticide sprayer thing.

That is correct

Oops. Can Skipper spend 31 Luck to make that a success?

Yes, by all means!

Lotsa Luck spent.

Skipper fumbled clumsily and dropped the little cap for a roll of film on the ground. Muttering, he instinctively knelt down and bent over to pick it up, fortuitously at exactly the right moment.

POW: 60%

1d100

Hard success, I'm guessing pretty darn accurate!

Will's DEX roll to see if he gets to act first

[70] = 70
1d100: [ 70 ] = 70

Will's STR to keep control of the sprayer

[53] = 53
1d100: [ 53 ] = 53 fail

Izzy's reactions are lightning fast and she strikes with uncanny accuracy!

As her colleagues duck, leap or stumble behind Leo's shield spell, Izzy's Impello spell knocks the nozzle out of Grimesy's hand before he can even bring it to bear on Skipper.

Roll to determine what happens next - 90+ = something bad for Will
[95] = 95
1d100: [ 95 ] = 95

As the nozzle clatters to the ground, the handle somehow catches on something, causing it to spray a raging Grimesy with Demon Flower solution!

He looks down aghast at the ragged hole in his midriff.

"What the-?"

Clinging and spreading like an oil slick, the solutions starts to spread across his body, which begins to disappear.

"Nnnghh! H-help!" he wails. "M-my head hurts! Argh!"

From the ground Eli shouts up, "Oh my God! The antidote! The moss or grass whatever
it's called! Barry! Barry! what its called!?" Your nan told us of an antidote!"

"The Tomtemoss isn't an antidote," says Jordan. "It would just let you see him."

"Nice work, Voodoo twins, and nobody's burning."

Skipper raised his camera, fascinated, and started shooting more photos of an unexpectedly ethereal Grimes as he apparently disappeared. "Don't lose track of him, this could still be an act."

"Oy, Barry! Watch yourself, get away from him. And can you make yourself useful like and make him reappear?"

Des watched aghast. ”Woz ‘appenin‘?!” she asked. ”Is ‘e disappearin’ or is ‘e disappearin’?!”

She drew a finger across her throat to indicate what she meant…

Hear Jordan's response Eli looks crestfallen. Looking up at Barry he pleads " Is there anything we can do to help him?!"

Like a rabbit in the headlights, Barry flounders for a second, but manages to rally.

"T-Tomtemoss! We keep some in the shed, so we can see each other when we race."

Taking his cue, one of the Speed Demons, scuttles into the building, nervously giving a gurgling and rapidly disappearing Grimsey a wide berth.

"I=it won't cure him - the magic in the flower is too strong for that - melts your brain - but you'll be able to see him and... I dunno, I'm not a doctor!"

For a brief moment, Izzy is horrified.

She did this.

For a moment. Before she rallies and realises that, at the end of the day, Grimes was threatening them all, not least Barry, with the same fate, and all she had done was use the most immediate method at her disposal to remove the threat. It wasn't her fault that Grimes had ended up firing the spray right at himself. Regardless of how it had happened. She had saved Skipper's life, and Barry's, and her own, and anyone else's that had been threatened by the psychopath's actions.

So why doesn't she feel positive about it?

Izzy quickly grabs the nozzle and pulls it away, where the spray can't catch on anything else and cause any more harm, as she calls out to Jordan, the resident medic.

"Is there anything you can do? At least try, maybe? Karl lasted at least long enough to get to the next room and he covered himself with the stuff, surely this small amount is treatable, right?"

She's not sure who she's pleading with more. Jordan, Barry, or any benevolent deity out there that might be willing to hear her prayers, atheist (save for the Genius Loci) as she is...

"Fortunately, I am a doctor," says Jordan to Barry. "I can't guarantee I can save him, but I'll try my best. But first I have to be able to see him, so I need to scarf down that moss. We'll also need to spray Grimesy with as much water as possible, to dilute the poison. Get me a hose."

"He's dead or dying from the quidditch version of an own goal. While trying to squirt me, I might add. And trying to first aid him seems dangerous. First rule of first aiding is don't endanger yourself."

"Can I just say oh dear, how sad, never mind."

Despite his words, Skipper started picking up and scattering dirt from the ground in the general presumed direction of Grimes, hoping it would outline his body as it landed on him. "So we don't trip over him."

Now on his feet Eli turns to any of the Speed Demons who may still be around. Quick! This is a farm! Where's the nearest hose!! Tell me NOW!!"

"Thanks, mate," Leo replied to Skipper. "Teamwork makes the dream...come true...however that saying goes."

Leo is now torn as he watches Grimesy writhing in pain and most certainly dying without someone to intervene quickly. Grimesy is someone who would gladly quote the bible verse about stoning people like Leo to his face. But he still wants the guy to live. If for no other reason, to save Izzy a lifetime of guilt (not to mention her career).

He steps over to Izzy, puts his hand on her shoulder, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry, Izzy. I know you didn't mean for this to happen. You must feel awful right now."

"Don't you know Aqua? Could you splash some Aqua spells on him while we wait for a hose? That couldn't hurt..."

Watching with a look of shock on her face as Jordan calls for a hose, Izzy flinches a little when Leo puts his hand on her shoulder, before realising who it is and recognising the attempt to comfort her. She's still in disbelief, but stammers out a reply.

"I... I do... I can try. I'll give... give it a go."

She almost doesn't want to. Not because she wants Grimes to die - of course she doesn't, as vile a pathetic excuse for a man he may be. But she isn't certain that anything Jordan can do will work, and she doesn't see a point to piling on such indignity on someone already doomed.

Doomed because of her.

It takes a second or two, but Izzy knows deep down that Leo might be right. They don't necessarily have precious seconds to waste, if there is still anything that can be done. Maybe Grimes can survive, albeit with some minor brain damage? HTD isn't always immediately fatal, after all. It can just build up over time, until finally reaching a tipping point, and maybe Grimes hasn't reached that point from the juice yet.

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, opens them once more... and casts the spell. Trying to wash away as much of the juice from Grimesy as possible, whilst they wait for a hose and for the Tomtemoss, using the dirt tossed by Skipper as a marker for where Grimes happens to be.

Magic roll for Aqua - 60%:

1d100

Oof, not good...

Watching Grimesy suffer wasn’t pleasant viewing but Des did think that Skipper had a point. ’Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’, she thought. She wasn’t especially religious but her grandmother had dragged her to Sunday school often enough as a child so that it had been drummed into her at an early age.

"A-a hose? Yes! we use one to w-wash the cars down after a race!" one of the Speed Demons yammers.

He follows his compatriot into the barn and a few seconds later they both reappear, one carrying a tray of russet-red moss, the other unreeling a hose pipe.

"Eat the moss," instructs Barry. "It's bitter but harmless. It'll make you see the invisible."

Anyone following Barry's directions will indeed discover the bitter taste of the Tomtemoss. Furthermore, their vision will suddenly become somewhat... sparkly. Lying on the ground before them, is the convulsing form of Will Grimes.

The Speed Demon with the hose, having similarly munched on Tomtemoss, douses the fellow with water, until he can be seen by everyone.

"That's why we don't race when it's forecast rain," he says ruefully. "Do you think he's okay?"

Please can someone make a Medicine check?

"He doesn't look okay," says Jordan after he consumes the moss and can see his patient, "but if anyone can help him here, it's me." He slips on a pair of latex gloves and sets to work expertly, careful not to get any of the Demon Flower Juice on him.

Medicine roll (70% skill) examining Grimes:
d%

Jordan, if it wasn’t for the whole invisibility thing, all signs point to a sudden and debilitating stroke.

The man needs hospitalisation and fast!

Jordan pops the battery back into his phone and quickly calls 999 to summon an ambulance, perfectly aware of how arcane this would appear to someone from centuries ago. "It looks like he's had a stroke," he says, trying to keep him stable. "He needs to go to hospital, stat!"

Camera hanging around his neck, Skipper stalked over to have a look in the shed.

As he did, he called over his shoulder, "Oy, Barry, d'you ever own any triffids? Or any other giant carnivorous plants?"

Eating the moss, Eli as horrified as he is cannot take his eyes from the sight infront of him. He had heard various tales of magic both good and bad, but this....the tales did not prepare him for this.

A terrified Barry answers Skipper's question with a frantic shake of the head. Entering the barn - a structure of shiny new corrugated iron - you find three large plastic water bowsers. Even though you lack the magical training of Izzy and Leo, the vestigia of tropical flowers, bright sunlight and exotic insects is palpable. Clearly these do not hold water...

Jordan's call for an ambulance does not go unheeded and soon one arrives with Sgt. Dhillon in tow. Will Grimes' supine form is quickly loaded in, left to the tender mercy of the paramedics.

Seeing the horrific effects of the Demon Flower solution on the human body first-hand, the remaining Speed Demons surrender themselves meekly to Dhillon's team.

-------------------------------------------------------

Some time later...

Will Grimes never regains consciousness.

Perhaps it is just as well, for the documentation recovered from his farmhouse reveals close ties with a number of far-right groups (a number of whom have been arrested). He is also found to have been the prime mover behind a number of online hate groups, geared towards the harassment of people such as Loz Drivez. When the press find out about this, the man's reputation is in tatters.

The rest of the Speed Demons, their aggressive behaviour mollified by the results of their MRI scans, soon 'fess up, as Des might say. Hiring him as gardener, Grimes found in Barry Flowers a hero-worshiping lackey. Barry was all-too happy to regale him with tales of the Demon Flower and soon a plan to use the sap to make an invisibility potion was hatched.

With several speeding convictions under his belt, this discovery gave Grimes an opportunity to drive as fast as he liked, hidden from the prying eyes of traffic cops and speed cameras. Soon he, and a select number of friends, gathered to spray their cars with watered-down Demon Flower juice and hold illegal road races (eating Tomtemoss, also courtesy of Barry, to see what they’re doing). In short order this expanded into an exclusive racing club, with races held up and down the A3.

Of course, while Barry warned the racers against direct contact with the magical solution (only Karl Chichester refused to listen), no-one realised how dangerous indirect contact was. Driving vestigia-soaked cars, they were slowly absorbing the effects and growing more unstable by the day. If you had not intervened, road-rage would have undoubtably turned to murder.

Shortly after the confrontation at Down Lane, Barry Flowers is reunited with his grandmother with a clip 'round the ear and a fierce hug. Under Maud's direction, the Demon Flowers found growing in the polytunnels at Grimes' farm are destroyed and his horticultural operation dismantled.

Flowers Fields garden centre remains open and, as far as you can tell, does a thriving trade with no discernible clientele.

With no unsuspected invisible 'ghost cars' to mess with the sensors, there are no more 'camera faults' along the A3 and traffic flows smoothly through the Hindhead Tunnel. Any ghosts that might haunt the Devil's Punch Bowl can rest in relative peace.

Jordan knows that he did everything he could to save Grimes, but it just wasn't enough. However, he is comforted by the fact that Grimes brought it on himself and is the one to blame. If he had only listened to reason, he could have walked away. But of course his brain had been damaged even before he was fatally sprayed.

Skipper had sourced a largely automated, 24/7 place in London where film was developed and printed while you waited. The uni student types staffing it cared less what he was printing, as long as he paid and it didn't stop them doing their streaks and worshipping at the mobile phone alter of Candy Crush.

Skipper delivered another album of strange photos to the Folly libraries, the weirdness prize going to images of the disappearing Grimes. And including a poster sized black + white of angry Grimes and the Speed Demons glaring down the camera lens, surrounded by high performance motors. (He rather hoped the latter might get framed and hung somewhere.)

While the Speed Demons did not provide him with an excuse to skip BJJ for a night, he did leave a standing order with Maud and Barry for seeds or seedlings of any really decent sized carnivorous plants. Especially ones that could eventually move and / or thump their trunks with tappers. Or sing...

Over the next couple of days Eli's students noticed a change in him, a slightly more reserved man, a hau Ted look behind his eyes. At night he reflected on the events of the past day. What started off as an exciting fun adventure,, the autopsy, the mystery of the damaged brain, the changing rooms all reminded him of an Agatha Christe or Conan Doyle classic locked room mystery. He enjoyed meeting all these new colourful people, got involved in a bit of action with a gang of skinheads.....but then.....that poor man.....Yes he was a despicable excuse of a human being. All the worst attributes one coukd think of personified in one person, filled,fueled by hate, driven to spread that hate and fear however, wherever he could. But did he deserve his fate? The image forever etched in Eli's mind. His thoughts then turn to that poor girl Izzy and what she must be going through, to take another's life is a heavy burden no matter the circumstances. He hopes she looks some solace in that her actions saved her friends life and those of innumerable overs in the future who would have been touched by the vile creature. 'He who live by the sword, die by the sword' He muttered to himself.

Des disappeared from the Folly for a few days once they had got back, heading off to her granmother’s, trying to put some distance between herself and the events of the past few days.Grimesy had got what was coming to him, but she couldn’t help but think of his final moments when she closed her eyes to go to sleep.

Tired, she became even more sullen than normal, but she didn’t think she could really talk to her family about what she’d seen. She didn’t even know if she had the words to describe it! How do you talk to people about magic? It would be a one-way to Bethlem Royal if she did! So she kept quiet, moping around for a couple more days before heading back to the Folly where she could at least speak to people who had experienced the same things she had…

It was all over much too quickly.

Despite his best efforts, Jordan couldn't do anything to save Will Grimes, and he was pronounced dead later in the day. The effects of a severe stroke. Of course, Izzy hadn't been the one to pull the trigger on the spray hose. She hadn't intended to cause his death. That had never been the intention, no matter what kind of scumbag he was.

She felt guilty all the same.

The drive to the hospital had been one of the worst of her life, and she'd been the bearer of bad news enough times before. Telling distraught parents that their child had been killed in a hit and run, or that granny had been found dead in her bed on a welfare check. She was used to that sort of thing. This was nothing of the sort. Jordan had unofficially diagnosed her with emotional shock, but she'd refused any sort of treatment. What could anyone do for something like that anyway? She'd waited in the hospital for news, any news, of what might have happened to Grimes, and even though she'd despised everything the man stood for... when the doctors told Izzy of his fate, she had barely been able to register it.

There were no tears. Not then. She'd simply been numb, a delayed reaction that deep in her mind she knew would come back to bite her sooner or later, but for that moment she had simply stared and nodded as the doctors explained. If she hadn't knocked the spray out of his hands, then he would still be alive. The others tried to reassure her that if she hadn't, any one of them could be dead instead. Or Barry. But it made no difference.

Izzy made her way home alone that day. She refused the offer of a lift in the group's transport, back to the Folly, or to her place on Seven Sisters Road. She simply got out of the car as soon as they were close enough to an Underground station, and rode the train in silence, thinking back on those final moments. Eventually the somewhat circuitous route ended with her stepping off the Tube at Finsbury Park, making her way down the street on auto-pilot. She didn't even remember taking her key out and unlocking the front door as she walked up the stairs to her apartment where Alice and Freya were waiting.

“Hey Izz, how was work...”

Alice called out in a cheery voice as she looked up from her Netflix documentary to see Izzy entering. Her lectures had finished early for the day, no coursework to worry about, and so she had been enjoying a rare evening off, but her voice trailed off as she saw the expression on Izzy's face when she walked through the door. She didn't need to say anything else. Alice got to her feet, moving the cat out of the way as she made her way straight over to the young detective, and simply scooped Izzy into her arms in a tight hug.

“Oh, baby, what's wrong... rough day?”

Izzy had no words. She accepted the hug, and put her own arms around Alice, as she buried her head in the messy chestnut hair of her love, and the emotions that had been building up all day finally spilled out in a flood of tears, deep and heavy sobs as her entire body shook in Alice's arms. They simply stood there like that, for as long as they needed to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(post script)

Alice is there for Izzy for as long as she needs her to be. The trust and the emotional strength that Alice provides only strengthens their relationship, and before long Izzy asks Alice to move in with her officially, considering that they've been unofficially living together for a while now anyway. It takes a long while for Izzy to stop waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares from having inadvertently killed a man, but Alice is there to comfort her every time.

The biggest worry is for her job. She considers handing in her resignation to DCI Nightingale, but DC Peter Grant talks her out of it. If any consequences are to come for her actions, then it will be down to Nightingale to decide on any course of action, not for her to offer it. As Peter says, regardless of the outcome, she had been acting to save lives. What happened to Grimes wasn't her fault.

Izzy nevertheless begins a series of counselling sessions to try and work through her delayed trauma and PTSD. It takes a long time, but the long term outlook seems positive. With her colleagues, girlfriend, and family supporting her, things do start to look somewhat better.