Secret Histories feats (Casino Infernale)

Hadrian Coll describes the Red King's Ruby, a purely conceptual item with supposedly unlimited power:

“We had the Red King’s Ruby, you see. And we thought that with that, we could do anything.” He saw the look of horror in my face, and the blank incomprehension in everyone else, so he sighed heavily, and paused to explain himself. “The Red King’s Ruby is a magical artefact that originally existed only in dreams. A purely conceptual item, and therefore unlimited in its power. Someone found a way to bring it forward, out of dreams and into reality. Once it was made manifest, and material, it was supposed to be powerful enough to give its wielder control over everything. How could we resist?” -Casino Infernale

This thing was then used to summon a living idea into the world. Which then proceeded to force the Ruby back out of reality with its sheer presence and power:

“That’s why there are carvings of white horses on hills and cliffs all over England. Because our ancestors worshipped the White Horse. What we’d awoken, and called forth, was a living god. Not
the god of horses, but the idea of a Horse, worshipped as a god. Worshipped by so many, and for so long, that the sheer concentrated belief was enough to create what they believed in. We never had a hope in hell of controlling such a thing. An idea, with the power of a god. Once it was out and free again, it shrugged us off like we were nothing. After so long asleep, imprisoned under the barrow mound by priests who’d grown afraid of what they worshipped, all it wanted to do was run free.
“Scared out of our minds by what we’d unleashed, we tried so hard to rein it in, to break the White Horse to our will, and control it. But the Red King’s Ruby just faded away, driven out of reality and back into the world of dreams by the sheer power of the living god. Because the Ruby was only ever a dream of a thing, made solid by its dreamer’s faith . . . and it was no match for the certainty of a living idea. We’d brought other things with us, other Objects of Power, I’d insisted on that . . . but none of it did any good. Just the backlash was enough to weaken us all, rob us of our strength and certainty. So we ran away.
“We used a preprogrammed teleport spell to transport us back here, to Trammell Island. Our oldest and most secret bolt-hole, where no one could see us. We thought we’d be safe here.” -Casino Infernale

Molly is capable of armoring herself in living tree bark, to carry the strength of the wild woods with her wherever she goes:

We both looked to Molly, to see what she would do, and then we both stepped back quickly as a great leafy tree burst up through the flag-stones of the chapel floor. The tree surged upwards, and stopped only when its leafy head slammed against the stone ceiling. The tree toppled forward over Molly, and engulfed her in a brown and green embrace, until it was gone and only Molly stood before us. Wrapped from head to toe in skintight living tree bark, decorated here and there with strings of mistletoe. She looked like a wood nymph, or a dryad of old, with an elemental Druidic feel. The hole in the floor was gone, as though it had never been there, and possibly it hadn’t. Molly turned to face Uncle Jack and me, and smiled. The gleaming bark stretched easily across her face, without cracking.
“I got the idea from you, Eddie,” she said. “This way, I carry the strength and protection of the wild woods with me, wherever I go.”
“You look amazing,” I said.
“Treemendous,” said the Armourer.
“Leaf it out,” I said.
Molly shook her head sadly. “You don’t deserve me; you really don’t.” -Casino Infernale

This allows her to bring oxygen from Earth with her to Mars, apparently:

I looked at Molly. “Are you all right, in your . . . bark? Breathing okay?”
“I’m fine, Eddie. Don’t fuss. I’ve probably got more air inside my woods than you have in your armour.” She stopped to look at the Armourer. “Should we be hurrying? Didn’t occur to me to wonder about your air supply.” -Casino Infernale

Dead Boy appears, and when he does, we're informed that him being dead allows him to survive on Mars. (And anywhere else where there's no air):

Tall and adolescent thin, he wore a deep purple greatcoat over black leather trousers, and scuffed calfskin boots. He wore a black rose on his lapel, and a large floppy hat crammed down on dark curly hair. He stood alone on the Mars surface, unprotected and unaffected by the local conditions because he was, after all, dead. He stared about him in an open, touristy way, and then jumped up and down a few times, to test the gravity. He looked like he was giggling. He strode off across the red plain, kicking red dust this way and that with happy abandon. -Casino Infernale

Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat appear as well, and we're informed that they can survive on Mars due to their fictional nature:

Dead Boy went over to join them, and they were soon having a cheerful conversation. The lack of air didn’t seem to bother any of them. Because he was dead, and they were fictional. Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat resided at Shadows Fall these days, a small town in the back of beyond where legends go to die when the world stops believing in them. An elephant’s graveyard for the supernatural. -Casino Infernale

Apparently the two of them being fictional means they can't be hurt:

“Oh, bloody hell,” said the Armourer. “Not Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat . . . I was sure Shadows Fall was going to send Old Father Time. Okay . . . hide everything valuable, including the cutlery; don’t promise the Sea Goat anything; and if he starts any trouble, just hit him over the head with something solid. Don’t worry, you can’t hurt him; he’s fictional.” -Casino Infernale

The London Knights fight threats from the Outside, dealing with gods, monsters, aliens and even other-dimensional threats:

I let go of Molly’s elbow. She was still glaring daggers at the Knight, but even she had enough sense not to take on a Knight of the Round Table. Unless she had to. The London Knights exist to protect our world from Outside threats. They’ve fought off alien invasions, other-dimensional incursions, and gone head-to-head with gods and monsters and everything in between. And they’ve never lost a war. The Droods exist to protect Humanity from Earthly threats; the London Knights take care of everything else. -Casino Infernale

Some of the bullshit Crow Lee was capable of and had access to when he was still alive:

“But what is Crow Lee’s greatest achievement?” I said. “Something he made, or had made for him, perhaps? We could be talking magic, or technology, or just his personal cache of secrets. I mean, he dabbled in everything at one time or another.”
I looked to the Armourer, but he just shrugged. “Given some of the things Crow Lee’s been known to use, the possibilities are worryingly endless. Information bombs, to rewrite reality. Words of Power, that could blow the whole world apart like a firecracker in a rotten apple. Blackmail information, to manipulate the movers and shakers in power. And let us not forget, he was responsible for the removal of Drood Hall from this world, for a time. No one’s ever been able to do that before. Of course, we have since put new protections in place to ensure that can never happen again.” -Casino Infernale

Dead Boy breaks his hand trying to punch Sir Kae/Parsifal in the face:

Dead Boy punched Sir Parsifal in the head. The Knight’s head whipped round under the force of the blow, and we could all hear the bones in Dead Boy’s hand breaking. When Sir Parsifal turned back, his cold expression hadn’t changed at all. Dead Boy snarled defiantly at him, and quietly pushed the bones in his hand back into place again. -Casino Infernale

Sir Kae/Parsifal keeps up with an armoured Eddie in a brief skirmish:

We both lunged forward, and our blades slammed together and then jumped apart again. I could see surprise in Sir Parsifal’s eyes; he’d expected his magic blade to shear right through mine. He knew nothing of strange matter. We cut at each other, again and again, stamping and thrusting, parrying and retreating. Circling each other, feinting and withdrawing, searching out weaknesses in the other’s position and style. The two great swords hammered together, and neither of us would give an inch.
Sir Parsifal was fast and furious, incredibly strong and practised, coming at me from every direction; but he’d never met a Drood before. He didn’t know how to fight dirty. So when I was sure I had his style down pat, I deliberately let my sword drop, just a little. He thought he saw an opening, and lunged forward, his sword leaping forward in full extension, to run me through the chest. I stood my ground, and the sword point hit my chest and bounced away, unable to penetrate. And while Sir Parsifal was shocked and caught off guard, I swung my sword with both hands, and hit him so hard on the wrist that his fingers leapt open, and his sword fell from his hand. I set the point of my golden sword at Sir Parsifal’s throat, unprotected under his steel helm.
“Had enough?” I said.
“Well played, Drood,” said Sir Parsifal, standing very still. “You took a hell of a chance, though. You couldn’t have known your armour would withstand my sword.”
“I gambled,” I said. “And I won. And that’s why I’m going to Casino Infernale.” -Casino Infernale

Ethel not only removes Eddie's torc, but also rewrites him on the genetic level so that there's no trace left of him ever having been a Drood:

“Do it!” I said. “Do it now, before I change my mind.”
The torc disappeared from around my neck. Just vanished, drawn back into whatever unnatural place Ethel found it. I felt it go, and it felt like being skinned. Like having a layer of my soul ripped off. Afterwards, Molly told me I screamed. I don’t remember. I think I made myself forget. I think I had to. The next thing I do remember, I was on the floor . . . on my knees, sobbing like a baby. Molly was on her knees beside me, holding me in her arms, rocking me back and forth and murmuring comforting words to me.
“You bitch!” I heard her scream at Ethel. “What have you done to him?”
“I’m sorry,” said Ethel. “But I couldn’t just take the torc away. Casino Security would still have been able to detect that it had been there. Strange matter leaves marks. I had to alter you right down to the genetic level, Eddie. So you’re not just a Drood without a torc; you never were a Drood. Never have been a Drood. You’re Shaman Bond, and you always have been.” -Casino Infernale

Molly confirms that she can transfer the magic of the Colt Repeater, a gun that draws bullets from some pocket dimension and remains empty when not firing, to a regular revolver during a game of Russian roulette:

“You can’t risk it, Molly. Not with your soul already owed to so many. I will do it, because I have just had a really sneaky idea. My Colt Repeater has no bullets in it because the gun teleports appropriate ammo into place, as necessary. You can tap into that magic, quietly and discreetly, and apply it to the Russian roulette gun. Any time a bullet threatens me, you just make it disappear.”
“I can do that,” said Molly. “But I can’t keep the gun empty all the time. Someone would notice. You might have to shoot someone, Shaman. Kill your opponent, to win. Could you do that?”
“He’d shoot me, if he could,” I said. “Are you in?”
“It’s sneaky,” said Molly. “I love it. Let’s do it!”
“You haven’t wasted any time getting into the swing of things,” Frankie said admiringly. “You’ll do well here.” -Casino Infernale

Molly gains 21 extra years of life added to her own after a croupier is caught cheating her in a game of roulette:

“This man is the guilty party, so it is only proper that he should pay for his crime. Molly Metcalf, please allow the Casino to pay you the twenty-one years you rightfully won, courtesy of the man who cheated you.”
He turned the hour-glass over with a dramatic flourish, and as the sands began to fall, so the extra years fell upon the croupier. He was a young man, and he cried out miserably as the best years of his life were taken from him; until a middle-aged man stood slumped between the two Security men. Weeping silently, for what he’d lost. I might have felt sorry for him if I hadn’t seen him enjoying it so much when it happened to other people. I looked at Molly. She threw back her head and laughed out loud. She didn’t look any younger, but she practically glowed with new energy. -Casino Infernale

Molly can tap into a telepathic field and wrap it around herself and a car she's in:

Molly scowled, considering. “The cover of darkness would have made it easier. . . . Let me think. There are all kinds of null zones scattered throughout the building, of various strengths. So any spell I might cast could fail, at any time, without warning. So, time to get creative. And just a bit sneaky. Frankie told us the Casino has a whole bunch of telepaths down in the cellar, broadcasting Don’t Notice Anything Unusual . . . I can tap into that, and wrap the field around the car. The null zones must be programmed not to override the denial broadcast.”
“You’re right,” I said. “That is seriously sneaky. Go for it.”
Molly gestured briefly, and the Scarlet Lady rocked back and forth. “Hey! That tickles! Kinda like it, though . . .”
“You are a deeply disturbing vehicle,” I said.
“You don’t know the half of it, big boy,” said the car.
“Get in the car, Shaman,” said Molly. “There’s no telling how long my override patch will last and somebody notices something.” -Casino Infernale

Molly shows some more of the things she can do with her magic, blowing apart cars with gestures, hitting several attackers with various spells, and then finally summoning a storm wind that blows the rest into walls with enough force to splatter them:

With the machine destroyed, Molly had her magics back, and she was not in a good mood. She gestured sharply, and all the cars around us exploded. The Jacksons standing among them were caught completely off guard, terrorised by the sudden fiery explosions. Some were killed instantly, others caught fire. Those remaining tried to target Molly, but she was off and moving. Here, there, and everywhere. Popping up between the remaining cars, hitting the Jacksons with energy bolts, shaped curses, and really nasty hexes that made their flesh run away like water. Eventually, she got tired of playing with them, and summoned up a great storm wind that came howling through the underground car park. It ignored me, but picked up the Jacksons and slammed them into walls and ceilings and support pillars. With such force they all blew apart like rotten fruit under a hammer. -Casino Infernale

Molly can perform a "mystic sweep" that prevents anyone who's not an exceptionally powerful telepath from picking up traces of something that's happened:

She punched me lightly in the arm. “I also performed a full mystic sweep, to keep any of the hotel psychics from picking up on what happened. You didn’t even notice, did you? You don’t appreciate me; you really don’t.”
“Unless the hotel’s got a major league telepath stowed away somewhere,” I said. “This is Casino Infernale, after all.”
“Second-guessing never gets you anywhere,” Molly said briskly. “Just makes you nervous.” -Casino Infernale

Hyde is fucking fast:

I threw myself backwards, rolling out of the chair and across the floor. Hyde threw himself across the table. I scrabbled backwards, and every guard in the room opened up on Hyde. He charged forward so fast he actually avoided most of the bullets, and the few wounds he did take healed almost immediately. He towered over me, massive and monstrous. -Casino Infernale

That white horse god from before? It's capable of traveling from Earth to a distant world in a matter of seconds:

“I can’t call on my family without my torc,” I said. “But I believe there is someone who might still owe us a favour. So . . . Horse! Please, come to me! I need your help!”
There was a pause. Molly glared at me.
“That’s it? That’s your big idea? We’re on a whole other world! What makes you think the Horse can hear us from here?”
“Because he’s a living god,” I said. “And I believe he can hear a prayer for help, wherever he is.”
Every single member of the generic army suddenly tilted their heads right back, to stare up into the night sky. I looked up too, and grinned broadly. A massive White Horse filled the entire night sky, from one horizon to the next, blocking out the stars and shining bright as any moon. The generic people cried out as one—a terrible, awed cry. Because they’d never seen anything like the White Horse before. The Horse came riding down, out of the sky, shrinking rapidly in size without losing any of his grandeur and majesty, becoming finally a simple horse standing before Molly and me, regarding us with old, wise eyes. -Casino Infernale

Upon instruction, it then proceeds to divide itself into several clones and them travel to numerous locations (including the Nightside and Shadows Fall, both of which aren't even in the same reality as this world) and back again, all in relatively short order:

“You may have noticed,” I said to the Horse, “that Molly and I are currently surrounded by a whole bunch of enemies, who mean us harm. We need help. Reinforcements. If I were to give you the names of those I need, could you find them and bring them here? Really, very, very quickly?”
The Horse looked at me as though I’d just asked him whether he could gallop without tripping over his own hooves. For a horse, he did have a very expressive face. Comes with being a living god, I suppose.
Molly reluctantly let go of the Horse, after I’d cleared my throat meaningfully a few times, and turned to look at me.
“Who did you have in mind?” she said, just a bit suspiciously. “All the Drood field agents?”
“I don’t think we should push our luck too much,” I said. “The more people I ask for, the longer it might take the Horse to round them up and bring them here. And I don’t know how long the shock and awe of the Horse will hold the generic army back. So, I thought, those who started this should be here at the finish. Horse, please locate and bring here, as fast as is godly possible: the Drood Armourer, from Drood Hall; Sir Parsifal of the London Knights; J. C. Chance of the Carnacki Institute; Dead Boy from the Nightside; and Natasha Chang from the Crowley Project. And, I suppose, Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat, from Shadows Fall. No reason why they should miss out on all the fun.”
The Horse nodded his great white head, and disappeared. The generic people made a single, very disturbed, sound. Despite their characterless faces, they all gave every indication of being very upset. The generic spokesman looked at Molly and me.
“What . . . Who was that?”
Molly and I ignored him.
“Natasha Chang?” said Molly. “Are you sure? After the Sea Goat smashed a vodka bottle over her head at the Summit Meeting?”
“She’ll have recovered by now,” I said confidently. “Hard-headed creature like her . . . and I don’t think she’ll bear a grudge. She is Crowley Project, after all. She’ll have done worse.”
“You are clearly too dangerous to be allowed to live,” said the generic spokesman. “You have to die. You have to die now.”
“Too late,” I said. “Listen, can you hear the sound of approaching hooves?”
The whole generic army raised their eyes to the sky again as the sound of pounding hoofbeats filled the night . . . and then they all fell back abruptly, pushed back by the godly pressure of a whole bunch of White Horses appearing out of nowhere, to stand in a great circle around Molly and me. It was the same Horse, appearing simultaneously in several places at once. You could tell. The Horse’s presence slammed on the air, like a living thing, like an endless roll of silent thunder.
He was currently bearing several rather surprised-looking riders. The Horse turned his several heads to look at them, and they all dismounted quickly, in their various ways. After which all the Horses seemed to just . . . slide together, until there was only one—the living god of Horses, standing before Molly and me. He bowed his great white head to me, winked briefly, and was gone.
“Is that the end of our favours, do you think?” said Molly, practical as always.
“Who can tell with a living god?” I said. “Or a Horse.” -Casino Infernale

In doing this, it bypassed every single defense and protection surrounding Drood Hall, including all of the isolated protections specific to the Drood Armoury, all without setting off a single alarm:

“I was just in the middle of something important, you know. But it is hard to say no to a Horse like that, particularly when it’s just appeared right in the middle of the Drood Armoury, passing right through the Hall’s defences as though they weren’t even there, and without setting off a single alarm. . . .”
“He’s the living god of all horses,” I said. “I don’t think they do defences or alarms. And I did sort of promise Ethel she could have the Horse as a companion.” -Casino Infernale

J.C. Chance outright describes the Horse as having taken him through the dimensions at speed:

“When I agreed to attend the Summit Meeting on Mars, I had no idea I’d been conscripted into a war,” said J. C. Chance, striding forward to join us in his bright ice-cream white suit. He glared about him with all his usual cockiness, apparently not bothered in the least by the sheer numbers surrounding us. “Not that I’m complaining, you understand. Always ready to do really horrible things to villains and scoundrels, but I do normally like a bit of warning. If only so I can stock up on really nasty weapons. I mean, there I was, just on my way home from the pub, when suddenly I am kidnapped by this really big horse! And before I know it, I’m riding through the dimensions without benefit of saddle or bridle.”
“He doesn’t like bridles,” I said. “He got you here safely, didn’t he?” -Casino Infernale

Dead Boy confirms that it appeared to him in the bathroom of Strangefellows, having bypassed all of the bar's protections laid down by Merlin Satanspawn:

“I don’t even want to know how that Horse got into the toilets at Strangefellows,” said Dead Boy, looming over everyone in his dark purple greatcoat, scowling at everyone with his dark fever-bright eyes.
“What were you doing in a toilet?” said Molly. “You’re dead.”
“I still eat and drink,” said Dead Boy, reasonably. “It’s got to go somewhere. Often suddenly and violently and all over the place. When I’m short of funds I bottle it, and sell it to the Little Sisters of the Immaculate Chainsaw for use in their emergency exorcisms.” -Casino Infernale

Molly overrides a set of security systems with her magic:

I armoured down, and went back to join her at the desk. Molly quickly used her magic to override the desk’s security systems, and the built-in computer immediately showed her where the hidden switch was. She hit it, and the whole wall behind her slid smoothly to one side, revealing a huge open area beyond, packed full of computers and high-tech equipment. -Casino Infernale