Character generation, with random mutations and powers ranging from "not very mutie at all" to "holy crap what is THAT".

We know what to do (ish). We know where to do it (more ish). Now we just have to get there (very ish indeed).

Our research bears fruit. Strange, disturbing fruit. Fortunately we have an infeasibly large revolver.

We start to look further into Johnny Martian (disclaimer, may not actually be a Martian), and unearth some disturbing possibilities.

It's 1910. Health and Safety is just an industrialist's bad dream after eating too much cheese. So why is this office so lacking in lethal things?

Further investigation, and desperate plot-evasion, leads to an embarrassing interview (especially for the GM).

We do our best to offend everybody, but in spite of our success we stumble over what may be a Sinister Plot. Or a public utility.

The finale (for now), as our heroes concentrate on delivering strict value for the money they haven't yet been paid.

On the road from Whitefall to Persephone. Or maybe not. Why don't things ever go smooth?