Sophistemon

The mystic snare was shredded by an onslaught of rapidly-generated bone-spurs, tearing into a series of scintillating particles before fading out of sight. Presto watched, aghast, as Bailey regained his footing and took to his feet, breathing heavily. It appeared that his escape had cost him energy, leaving him open to reprisal. Presto, on the other hand, still thrummed his power -- his every cell was bursting with arcane energy that nipped at his heels like an overexcited chihuahua in its eagerness to escape, to be seen, to conquer. The magician's surprise and uncertainty left him quickly, evidenced only by a single stutter. "F-for my next trick," he said. "I'll need a volunteer from the audience." He lowered his wand, once again, at Alton. "You there, in the indecisive skin! Breathe deep!" He muttered an incantation and his wand began to spew forth a fearsome gale of icy wind in the form of a miniature tornado. Crackling with frost, the storm spiraled towards the monstrous Bailey, blowing papers and other small items hither and yon in its wake.

Hah, Christmas has come early in the form of a homicidal nemesis. All right, let's see if we can get Alton to reconsider his rampage with a bit of the ol' ultra-violence. Magic Blast (Elemental Cold): 1d20+10 20. An acceptably average roll!

There's not much hope of catching Baku, and Presto wouldn't leave Warne alone to deal with Alton regardless; if the little rat gets away, we'll just have to hunt him down. Toughness Check (Snare): 1d20+10 13. Ye gods and little fishes, Tyche, make up your mind!

The situation was so kooky that Punchline couldn't help but grin. His long, toothy maw split open to reveal a mouthful of glistening fangs and he chuckled in short, hissing bursts. "Hehn hehn hehn." He turned his head from side to side, taking in all the players currently on stage, and rolled his eyes. "Our story's getting complicated," he mused, and then stuck out a scaly claw. Intent on shaking the hand of Freedom Eagle, he wagged the appendage up and down before the veteran hero. "Used to watch you on teevee all the time," he said. "Old film-reels and documentaries. You and all the other greats." The big, toothy smile widened. "I'm a big fan." With his other hand, he arced a thumb over his shoulder, back at the building they'd come from. "Say, you wanna come inside and take a load off? We've got a baby in there that may or may not be a god, and may or may not be interested in making margaritas." Then, he turned to face the Alien-Gator -- with one of his hands still outstretched towards the Freedom Eagle, the action looked ridiculous. "How about you, buddy? Feel like having a little fun?"

"Roger that," crackled Upgrade's mechanical voice. "Preparing sub-orbital drop; he won't know what hit him." Ethan flipped a few switches and turned a knob, preparing the XO-9 to abandon weightlessness in favor of gravity. "Bonfire, watch yourself. If he's more than he looks, let Adept and I take point; we don't want your fire getting put out too early."

Samuel chuckled. "Ah, card tricks can be tricky." He reached behind himself and retrieved a deck from his back pocket. He popped the tab, shuffled the cards, and drew four. When he fanned them out on the table, they were all aces. Specifically, they were all the Ace of Diamonds. "But they can be fun at parties." His eyes sparkled, and he took a drink of water. "I miss it," he admitted. "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision, leaving it all behind. I used to spend weeks dreaming up new tricks, new illusions. There's an art to misdirection, and there's a science too. It was exhilarating to watch as people saw something that they'd never seen before, and might never see again." He leaned back into his seat and sighed. "But the work I'm doing now is good, too, I suppose. It's certainly less stressful."

Game Master (please allocate points to Punchline) Lights, Camera, Action! Presto Dreamweaver Nothing Fancy, Just Hanging Out Such a Cozy Room Upgrade Irradiated Intervention Punchline Puppet Day I'm sorry for the delay.

Oh, something that you'd be able to whip up in only a few minutes of real-time, then? Your character is going to have at least a few hours before everyone else is 'caught up' with what they're doing -- Sea Devil and Miracle Girl are watching a bunch of films, and Adept is combing the streets for information. Was there anything else that you'd like for Deoxy to do?

@Avenger Assembled & @Heritage The projectionist nodded -- though, again, the two young women couldn't see him do it -- and put in the following film. He set it to play at double-speed, and it wasn't long before Miracle Girl spotted the clown again, standing at the rear of a crowd shot as the camera panned by en route to more important things. He was looking even more disheveled, with his garish shirt torn away to reveal the white -- not Caucasian, white -- skin that lay beneath. It was apparent now that he wore no paint; that was his natural color. Even his sign looked to have seen better days, as it had been torn in half and repaired with ragged strips of tape. SAD CLN, it echoed. PLZ HLP. Interestingly, despite the damage to his clothing and sign, and the dirt that caked his body here in there in rough patches, the clown himself appeared to be uninjured. His expression had also changed to one of wry bemusement; it was a face that said, silently, "What are you waiting for?" The movie played on, characters whirring by at outrageous speeds, and the film ended without another appearance. The projectionist placed in a third film and it was a good long time before he popped up again, towards the end, all but hidden around a corner but a hair's breath away from the monster. Unbeknownst to the slavering beast, the clown had raised a hand up behind its head and was giving the peace sign so that his two raised fingers gave the creature crooked bunny ears. Despite the apparent silliness of his actions, the clown was frowning, the corners of his red lips dragged down in an exaggerated expression of distress. His sign was discarded, but his bright yellow eyes told the two young heroes that he was running out of time. @Blarghy Agent Warne left the AEGIS base with his mind full to bursting with ideas. He had leads to follow, and a grim vision of justice to sustain him. It was as close to heaven as he might expect to get today, and he relished the thrill of the chase. In addition to a head full of ideas, he also carried with him a slim file full of information -- specifically, the addresses of the electronics stores that had been cleared out by the black-clad villain. Speaking to the proprietors revealed something relatively unsettling. "Yes," they all told him, "We remember the guy in the armor. He came in and bought a ton of old junk." When Adept pressed them for further information, they all searched their memories in a similar way before responding. "He was here just a few days ago. He showed up at about a quarter to three. He gathered up every teevee, radio and antennae we had, and then he paid in cash."

Hey, everyone! I'm so sorry about the delay; real life grabbed me and between some unexpected trips and a bit too much focus on person projects I couldn't shake it off. I'm back now, though, and I'm going to try harder to update more often. @Blarghy Okay, that sounds about right. @Exaccus Would you mind typing out just what it is that Deoxy is attempting to invent? I'd like to work things into a timetable so that everything adds up even, more or less.

Presto bared his teeth in a vicious smile as Baku was engulfed by flames and the explosive force of the fireball blasted him up to and through the wall of the gristly laboratory. In his mind, the crowd went wild. They clapped and cheered his name, reveling in his victory against the dream-demon and applauding his vengeance against the monster that had invaded his mind. Their praise invigorated him, restoring the energy lost to fuel the spell he'd cast. Pride swelled in his heart and warmed the blood in his veins -- he had won, and winning was the sweetest thing in the world. He heard Warne's shout of warning only dimly, the words barely cresting the wave of self-adulation that roared inside of him. He turned and saw Alton's massive, club-like fist barreling down on him, the spikes of bone glinting in the light like stone knives. The magician raised a hand, palm flat and fingers spread, before speaking a word. It appeared from nowhere, the wall of opalescent white bricks, formed from the stuff of myth to absorb Bailey's extended punch. The fist struck like lightning and the wall wavered, bowed slightly, but held. Presto closed his fist and dismissed it before he leveled his want at the outraged and rampaging monster. "The show is over, Alton. Baku is gone; I've beaten him." His voice was loud, too loud, speaking to an audience that wasn't there. He was grandstanding and loving every second of it. "But if you're looking for an encore, I'd be happy to oblige." He laughed, and then winked at Warne. "But for my next trick, I feel like I'd prefer a captive audience!" He spoke another word, and a whirling maelstrom of multicolored handkerchief ropes burst from the silver tip of his wand and launched towards Alton Bailey with the intent of tying him up tight.

No doubt about that. Okay, boys -- let's see what we can do when we rub a little magic on it. Toughness Save Reroll: 1d20+10 29. Abra-ka-freaking-dabra! I beat it by one. I tell you, the dice can't decide whether they love me or hate me. Okay, I want to take Alton alive -- clearly -- so let's open up the final battle with a Snare. Elemental Snare (Earth): 1d20+10 27. Not bad! That's a DC20.

Punchline looked from Leviathan, to the Alien-Gator, to the Freedom Eagle, and then for some reason he stared up into the sun for approximately five seconds, his pupils contracting to narrow slits, before he licked his chops and faced the esteemed hero once more. "Citizens?" he rumbled, his voice an eerie mimicry of Leviathan's own. It wasn't a perfect copy -- it wasn't meant to be -- but it was similar enough to be moderately unsettling. "Do we look like a bunch of locals to you?" He looked around, taking in the swamp that surrounded them, and shrugged. "Well, tan my hide and make me a purse, maybe we do." He chortled, in a voice that was much too high to emerge from such a monstrous throat. "Where is here, anyway?"

The hug was unexpected, but not unappreciated, and Sam luxuriated in the affection. Giving as good as he got, he squeezed back on the two women and was moved nearly to tears by all they'd done for him. When the hug ended, he took a step back and wiped his eyes. "Right," he said, nodding. "Moving in as soon as possible sounds like a plan to me. You've never seen where I'm living now, but..." He waved a hand. "It's nothing to write home about. It's, ah. Well, being an ex-con and all, it's a little hard sometimes to rent in a good neighborhood, you know?" His smile was self-deprecating. "I don't really have much to move. The suit, as I'm sure you've guessed, serves as most of my clothing. The rest can fit in a gym-bag. Beyond that, there's just a small bit of furniture." He grinned. "It's so little that we could probably handle the move in a half-hour without magic."

"But don't be afraid to get into a scuffle, either," Upgrade buzzed, his mechanically-augmented voice crashing through the communicators like a thundering cannon. "Between the three of us, one man won't be much of a problem. Heck, Adept, I bet you could scowl at him and he'd have his hands up faster than [Insert Team A] beat [Insert Team B]." The agent chuckled. "Man, it just feels good to fly again. This thing handles like a dream!" The AMP did a lazy rotation, enormous arms outstretched with fingers spread to catch the wind. "These stabilizers, man! I wish I'd had these on deployment. Would have saved me a nasty crash. And the VTOL! Smooth as a stick of butter."

That's just fine. I'll spend two Hero Points as a reaction so that Presto can roll his Toughness at full strength. This leaves me with one remaining Hero Point, just in case. Toughness Save: 1d20+10 12. Which is good, because it looks like I'm going to need it. I'll await your ruling on damage before I take my turn, if that's all right.

It took Samuel roughly two seconds to respond, although the time passed much more slowly in his head. The first second was spent looking around the room, taking in every detail and processing the idea that it was, in fact, now his. The following second was spent gathering the words that he'd need to respond. Only three, out of every possible word that he could say, seemed suitable to adequately express his feelings towards their gift, and how overwhelmingly appreciative he was of the time and effort they'd expended preparing it for him. He cleared his throat and raised his head slightly, hoping that gravity would help keep the tears in his eyes when his willpower failed him. "I love it," he said. And then, almost as an afterthought, he added: "Thank you."

Punchline followed Leviathan outside, the shape of his body blurring in a hissing flash of buzzing static before re-configuring into an exact duplicate of the lumbering hero. When the fearless flier known as Freedom Eagle appeared, Punchline pointed at him with an extended claw. "Look!" he garbled, his voice indistinguishable from Leviathan's own. "Up in the sky!" He chuckled. "I know that guy! I've seen him on teevee!" He looked at the other creature, this 'Alien-Gator' and then back over to his partner in scales. "Uh-oh," he mused, connecting dots. "We look like his cousins."

@Blarghy If it's all right with you, would you mind just bringing Adept back to headquarters? Sea Devil and Miracle Girl's combing through the movies give us the opportunity to have a bit of a time-lapse occur, which should also accommodate Dr. Deoxy's work in the labs.

Would I be permitted to spend my Hero Points to alleviate the Exhausted condition before rolling Toughness?

The magician reached out and took the paperwork-laden clipboard and twisted his pen, which caused the nib to emerge from the bottom with a mechanical click. It was an ornate affair, silver plated with a golden clip, and likely a leftover from his former career. He flipped quickly through the pages, dotting a signature here and a signature there, until he'd reached the end. He chuckled at the mention of food. "You two remind me of my mother, back when..." He coughed. "Back when we were speaking. I couldn't visit without getting so much food put in me that I had to take my belt off." He handed the clipboard back to Lynn and smiled. "There," he said. "It's all official. Oh!" He snapped his fingers, conjuring a checkbook, and began to write out his deposit. "Except for this of course." He chuckled, and then dropped the check onto the rest of the pages before leaning back in his chair. "There. Now, what's this big surprise?"

I fully intend for Punchline to tell that one should he ever suffer a breakdown. Of course, he'd probably be kidding about the entire thing...

I hadn't thought of that, Blarghy; thanks for looking out for Ethan. Added a quick post to prevent a potential crisis.

Ethan chuckled. "Guys, guys. It was a joke. Remember jokes? They're those things that help alleviate tension when you're about to do something potentially dangerous? We do remember jokes, don't we?" Agent Stone looked at Bonfire. "Let me clear the air. The X-09 Armored Mobility Platform is what you get when you cross a tank with a fighter jet -- it is beyond safe. The lockdown protocols exist to keep enemy threats from coming in after me if the AMP is disabled; they don't keep me from getting out." He huffed, then chewed on a block of ice that he sipped from his glass. "I tell you, you guys must not watch a lot of war movies. Gallows humor is a bonding exercise, for crying out loud."

Ethan nodded, then lifted a napkin to wipe a spot of mustard from the corner of his mouth. "I'm with Warne," he concurred. "I think that we did the right thing, waiting to get everything approved, but now that it's over with we've waited long enough already. The faster we get this handled the cleaner it's all going to look in the end and the better everything will be." He cleared his throat and finished off his glass of cola. "Just give me the word and I'll go suit up. It takes a hot minute to get into and out of that thing, so we'd better be sure that we're on the right track before I initiate the activation protocols." He looked at his partner. "I showed you that part of the manual, right? I couldn't believe it when they first told me, but the damn thing locks up like a great big metal coffin. They'd rather that I die inside it than let anyone else get their hands on the technology." He laughed, then, and shrugged. "Not that I can blame them; if the American taxpayer knew how much they'd spent on the X-09 I bet they wouldn't want someone else laying claim to it either."