Avenger Assembled

"Hello!" called Sea Devil suspiciously from near the treeline. "Are you still in there?" She wasn't entirely sure how to handle this, though her short-lived respect for the creatures who lived in the park was going through a steep decline. "Are there any bad murderers there?" Shifting nervously from foot to foot for a moment, executing a hopping dance, she decided to throw caution to the winds. Crouching low and deep, she leaped in the direction the trail seemed to point, branches cracking around her armored body as she leaped towards the danger, bellowing a challenge.

"Who set up your website - and is anyone managing it now?" asked Neko immediately. "Proper social media management is essential for a rising brand such as yours." She hmmed as she circled the room, giving a critical but not-unfriendly eye to everything. "I have access to a very successful website manager," she admitted, "he was very helpful in getting Catgirl Reacts!" she put the exclamation point in the middle of the word by sheer force of will "out there in the social media market place." She pressed Bernadette and Summer on the social media question in particular, making sure they had a presence on every major platform - and a few of the minor ones. "Who is your market?" she added, climbing up onto the back of a big overstuffed chair; and then without seeming to think about it climbing up to the top, so she perched there while she watched the other two girls talk. "There are people who market to the metahuman community," she said, enunciating the last two words carefully, "and people who seek a broader market share. I recommend the latter," she went on, "inside jokes and winks to your friends are cute but they won't make you any money."

Neko While Neko returned from the drug store with her burden in hand, she caught sight of the adult in the company of the teens and frowned. She had almost walked in on them, tipsy as she was, but she'd been aware of the imminent face of death since she was a small girl. She cooly stepped back into the doorway and considered what to do. A man who was too friendly with teens was generally not a friend at all, but wasn't that the man who looked like Alice? A resemblance didn't necessarily mean a friend either. Considering her options, she cracked open her phone. She thought first of texting Owain but if there was a menace there, she did not necessarily trust him to keep a straight face. So instead she texted Leon their danger signal: DO U WANT PIZZA TONIGHT?

Neko/Owain "Everything okay up here," Neko had reported to Erik, tilting her camera back so she could see Owain trying unsuccessfully to keep Fleur's youngest away from a large cookie tray that had made it upstairs with them. There was lots of noise behind her but Erik had been father of a large brood long enough to distinguish the good screaming and running from the bad screaming and running. "There are eyes on the perimeter and nobody has crossed it." Neko had picked up martial English first, and maybe best. "Don't worry, if anyone does, we will take care of them." Erik had known Neko long enough to understand he was hearing a polite and super-kawaii way of phrasing 'the intruders will wish for death but it will never come.'" - in other words, she sounded ready but unafraid.

Copycat/The Patriot When Velocity took Jack of all Blades aside for the confrontation with Archeville, Copycat took this opportunity to slip into something more comfortable. Trusting Jean to keep an eye on Velocity and Jack of all Blades as they headed for the conference room, she moved fast, practically running in her stocking feet to one of the building's elevators. Well, what looked like an elevator to the untrained eye, anyway. And so it was that the Patriot joined everyone for the final confrontation, her jacket gleaming with its pins (a Christmas tree having recently joined the collection), her armored costume gleaming, and any cat mask and cute dresses she might have once been connected to tucked away in the guts of Freedom Hall. Before the moment of confrontation could quite begin, she stepped close to Fleur and murmured, "I've got this if you want. Basil's up in the family shelter." The truth was that Ashley had not been thrilled to hear that an Axis supersoldier was guarding the littles tonight, one of many, many reasons why Phil was home with Fa'Rua tonight, but by all accounts Neko had earned the trust of the other heroes of Freedom.

Angelic "It is fine." Angelic had put her fingers over Percy's delicate ears, holding his head in place so he didn't run off and join the cavalcade around the "Deliverer from the Astral Realm" as he was insisting on calling Archeville, the music on the dance floor still playing around them. Eira had done her duty and made sure Miss A and Dragonfly both got the message about the new arrival, for all that she was reasonably sure both those worthies already had their own means of knowing about the party-crasher. "Part of being a hero means trust, yes?" She put her hand where his elven heart beat a faint up-tempo version of Santa Baby. "They are the greatest heroes in the world. They will solve this problem. And you," she said, pulling him down for a kiss by his tie, "do not need to solve everything." She kissed him, long and lingeringly, and smiled again. "That is my job, yes?"

Copycat Oh great. Goddamned alien Santa Claus. When neither Velocity nor Fleur seemed to think the idea was particularly amusing, Ashley groaned internally, crossing her arms over her chest. Is that really a thing? Goddamit. When the security alert beeped, she took the arrival of a mostly-shirtless Jack of all Blades as an opportunity to escape this scenario. (Velocity got there first, but then she usually did) "Predator," she murmured softly, "you're with me." No reason Jean has to sit here and watch this malarkey. Once they were out in the crowded hall, she made a bee-line for the new arrival, remembering that Erik would certainly know Ellie's friend from high school, at least. "Jack of all Blades!" she said ebulliently, "Merry Christmas! I guess VINCE called you, huh?"

"Hello," said Neko to Summer, giving her a quick bow as she folded her hands in front of her. "I am Neko Musume and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." As she spoke, a tiny bug took off from her shoulder and began flying around the room, a gaily-colored robot ladybug that Bernadette had seen buzzing around their room more than once. "Please do not mind Red," she said sociably, "he is just filming B-roll footage." She smiled at Summer, showing little points of teeth that weren't much bigger than a human girl's. "I like your music," she offered. "It is very nice. Where did you learn to play?"

Okay, let's see here. I don't think any of Neko's friends are within 250 ft of her - so she'll drop Obscure 6 (summoned storm of illusions; all senses; 250 ft, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Selective, Flaw: Phantasm) {32/32} on the soldiers.

"No problem," said Neko seriously. Bernadette had seen enough of her roommate to know that Neko's illusions went beyond hiding her ears and tail or summoning monstrous creatures - today she was wearing a downright studious mask, a blue-lined yellow notebook in one hand, her ever-present phone in her purse, and a manner closer to an accountant's than either the girl who acted like a friendly kitty-kat on camera or who occasionally woke up screaming on the weeknights they shared a room together. She was wearing today the small illusion of humanity; plus a flower-print dress and sensible shoes. She smiled at Bernadette and added, "I am saving my ideas until we get there." Inside, Neko was nervous - this was a real opportunity, and Bernadette a real friend. To have learned so much about this world was one thing; to teach it to another a different one.

The blows hit - and tore deep gouges in the illusory Neko's flesh. But as La Puma watches, the slashes healed up again almost immediately, flesh and blood knitting back together like they were being stitched together by silvery cords. As if whispering a confidence, Neko crouched low, her tail wagging behind her like a happy dog - or a very angry cat. "You see? You can't even do this right! Pathetic!" Lady Liberty and the Patriot were trading blows now; the former firing blasts of light from her hands, the latter from her dual-wielded pistols. Neither seemed to be hitting the other but they were certainly introducing the students to wide varieties of profanity. It was easy to notice, however, that they seemed to be repeating the same phrases over and over again, as if on a short loop of 'tape'.

Okay, that hits: Tou vs 23 She makes it!

Copycat took up a position by the side of the door, the better to keep an eye on the people who came in and to make sure nobody came in who wasn't supposed to. Technically one of those chairs belonged to her but she'd already been sitting most of the evening, and besides, there was no use telling the entire universe that Copycat was more than just a visitor here. She gave Gaian Knight and others who actually had a chair in this room a nod that meant 'take a seat. I've got this.' The small space would make it easier to handle the Archeville situation, which was rapidly going to spin out of control if they weren't careful. She appreciated those in the room who were handling things diplomatically; especially since it meant she didn't have to keep her hand on her weapon when talking to the dangerous technopath. It was close by if she needed it, along with some other things. "We could use cover in the hall," she murmured to others in the group, glad Tiamat was there backing her up. It wasn't that she couldn't herself, but the big, muscular woman projected more space and threat than she did unless she was trying very hard. "I'll close the door once everyone's in position." When Ghost teleported in with Grimalkin, she made a small noise but didn't interfere with him - or her, for that matter, taking a seat. For the benefit of the people in the hallway and along the wall with her, she added in a low murmur, "There are going to be people with an interest in this. Some of them are going to want to kick this guy's ass, some'll just want to talk. Either way, if they all crowd in here at once, the place is gonna explode. We need to make sure the League can actually have a conversation with this guy."

Neko Neko looked at the text message from Owain relating to the arrival of her mentor's old nemesis, eyes widening, for a barely perceptible moment. She remembered the first time she had met a German, a cruel-eyed man who had made a crude comment about her relationship with Crimson Katana in her presence, and wondered if everyone from that nation was cursed. But then of course there was much to do. She put away her phone and smiled, clapping her hands three times as she moved quickly through the busy rooms. She and the others had worked out a signal that would let them know to go on alert without actually frightening the many superpowered tots they were watching, an innocous set of words that were just for them. "Oh it is so cold outside!" she said with a theatrical shiver, producing an illusory gust of wind and shower of snow over the children's heads. "We should close the doors and drink cocoa!" As she spoke, she checked for any loose children and was glad to see none, with even the new girl - Cassie - having slipped smoothly into play. "Leon and David, take the doors. Lulu and I will make a show for all the children to see, so we can stay warm. Come children!" she said in the middle of the largest room they'd set aside. "Come see us!"

Owain Juggling urgent texts from his leader (a title Erik preferred over master, even though it meant something rather different to Owain than it did here) and a hungry toddler was a difficult task, but a true knight met adversity and mastered it. "That must be good!" he said, kneeling down by Basil and smiling at the green-haired boy. "You should eat it up!" Erik got in reply: NO HOSTILE MOVES. PLED SPIRIT OF SEASON. FLEUR + IVORYCAT? + ARMORED FOX?? + + TEXTING NEKO. A picture of the group (Fleur de Joie, Copycat, Predator, Geckoman, Spellbound) heading off with Archeville. He took a moment to text the situation upstairs to Neko, then another moment to chase Basil, who had run off with surprising speed for a boy his age, to grab another cookie and shove it into his mouth. "Well you are definitely going to be quite the crumbmonger!" he said, smiling at the little boy, who smiled at the game. Seeing no harm in helping the computer intelligence, he took a moment to connect his phone fully to the room's wifi, figuring VINCE was going to stage a broadcast in the area.

Copycat "You came to the wrong continent if you're looking for Dimitri Peshkov," said Ashley evenly. "But I hear they throw a good Christmas party in Moscow." She considered if Archeville had really meant to call out the Russian super-agent who'd been operating on American soil for years as a character reference, then decided that hey, she couldn't blame that particular security gap on him - the League had just welcomed the ex-Soviet operative as one of their own for years before his return to Russia! Trusting Predator to keep an eye on Archeville as a precaution, she pulled her hand from her purse and hit the button on her phone that yellow-alerted the rest of the League. (If you asked her, they needed considerably more complicated and specific alert measures, but "please come here, caution" was easy enough to translate into a one-button push.) She looked profoundly relieved when Stesha arrived. "Yeah, let's talk," she said, keeping herself between Archeville, Fleur, and the crowd as they headed for a more secure part of the room. She was mindful that Archeville in his villainous days had gone in for mind control, but she was reasonably sure that her current state of annoyance and bafflement were not the product of emotional tampering. She tended to have a pretty good grasp of threats, and for the moment Archeville wasn't acting like one - at least, not one who knew he was one. "You call your people?" she asked Chris softly. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing if the Interceptors showed up - but it would be good to know if they were.

Okay: La Puma Negra: 34 Lady Liberty: 30 The Patriot: 25 Spaceman: 22 Buzz: 21 Djinn: 20 Geometer: 15 Golden Star: 10 Okay, LPN is up.

Ashley thought of the silent stare she'd have gotten from Callie Summers if she'd said that to her - and made sure to actually say something. "There's super-Dramamine in the yellow tube under the console if you need it. Just take one shot, though, or it'll knock you out. Don't worry, it's a short flight." She gave her mentee a supportive smile. She was mostly hands-off on the ride out to the Moon; trusting in the autopilot and taking the time to appreciate the view. It was a little unreal to her even now; the antigravs on board the ship meaning that they hardly felt the acceleration despite the fact that they were going faster than a Saturn V on takeoff, the engine as quiet as an electric car. "Maybe there is something to all this malarkey after all," she said as the Earth (not just a landscape, the actual curve of the green and blue planet itself) came into view behind them. "That's the place we're defending, right there. Those are our people. Damn." She rapped the viewscreen for good luck, then said, "If you do want to take a nap, now's the time. We're faster than Apollo but it's still a long flight." On the way out she logged onto her Freedom League account and did some paperwork, posted a few more pictures of the baby to social media, and answered any of Carmen's questions about space and the Lor. She didn't talk too much about her marriage, figuring that was the last thing a teenager wanted to hear about - or that she wanted to talk about, for that matter; instead focusing on Earth's relationship with their somewhat battered interstellar neighbors. When Farside City finally came into view, it looked a bit like a cliche of a sci-fi city - all straight-edged metal towers under a glass-looking dome, like something out of a science fiction movie of the 1950s or 60s. "They used to be totally invisible," said Ashley. "Well, to anybody on Earth - they had an invisibility field up the second we had rockets. They really opened up for business after the Communion. You ready back there?" she asked as the computer started talking to Farside traffic control.

Okay, it's initiative time! Who! Will! You! Fight! For!

"What's the matter?" the silvery illusion of Neko taunted Carmen. "Cat got your tongue?" "Did the fascist thug tell you that?" asked the blue person, who rose into the air on a cloud of blue silver-shot smoke, a loose, open vest forming around its midsection like a djinn from the Arabian Nights. "Please. She's the one who forced us to do this!" bellowed the Genie, pointing at the Patriot. "Do you really want some all-American conformity?" demanded Buzz's counter, who as she spoke seemed to assume various geometric forms, stretching and moving from square to circle to triangle. "Do you think you'll be safe if they squish you down into shape?" added the Geometer. "Come on, Michael," Lady Liberty said, reaching down a hand for him, her fingers silvering with the nanotechnology of the Communion, as if she was extending it to them as an offering. "You know what they did to the others! This is our last chance for freedom." "Shut the hell up you commie-," said the Patriot, firing again, her shot cutting off an angry word!

let me know what you'd like to do next! I'm good with combat or more sneaking, or whatever. =D

The Patriot "It's not that I don't love him," Ashley insisted, "or Fa'Rua. It's just..." She hesitated, looking down at her drink, then glanced over automatically as she saw the new arrival teleport in. She'd been gone from Freedom City when Archeville had gone mad and invited in a Deep One invasion, safe away at college in New Orleans, but she'd certainly been briefed on the consequences of what he'd done - and all that had happened afterwards. "Suit up," she whispered to Jean before rising from her seat and striding over to Archeville, seizing on the moment so fast that she forgot that she was not the Patriot right now but a former Claremont student in a sexy black dress and ivory cat mask. Well who the hell cares, it's a party! She stepped out of her heels, reached into her purse, and walked right up to the space-traveling menace. "Viktor Archeville." She left her hand inside her purse. "If you make me scare these kids, I'm going to take it real personal."

Owain Owain was dressed tonight in the armor of a gentleman; a dapper black tuxedo that the women at the Espadas house assured him showed off his muscles and his dark eyes. He had applauded when Velocity danced and Multi-Girl sang (rather for the latter more than the former; neither of the performances had exactly been to his tastes, but Bernadette was a peer and a friend), and nodded wisely when Velocity revealed herself. "Milady, would you honor me with-" He had been about to invite Stesha to dance (as a gentleman should when confronted with a great lady of the fae, even though he didn't know the great lady well) when the new arrival appeared, a strange figure whose whispered name and appearance struck him as strangely familiar. He hesitated a moment, took out his phone and snapped a picture, then texted Erik. THE SAXON??? he asked, before putting his phone away and turning back to Stesha.

Eira had been idly recording the (quite good) music and dancing for later chopping and screwing when Velocity unmasked herself. She gave a startled exclamation as Percy returned and didn't hesitate to take the peppermint cocktail from him, tossing back a shot. "That was the oldest secret identity in the League, yes? It is an interesting night. Do a shot with me!" She couldn't actually get drunk, of course, but it was the spirit of the thing that counted. When the music swelled again, she pulled him out onto the dance floor, their red velvet outfits making them a striking and matching pair. They could both fly; she on magnetic levitation currents and he on sprinkles of fairy dust, she was a machine and he a jolly Christmas elf, but tonight they were a man and a woman and they danced as such, bodies pressed together with the intensity of lovers who didn't have that long until their inevitable separation.

Sea Devil What is a Deep One tale? What stories do the cannibal cultists tell their spawn? Some of them are stories about what will come when the stars are right. The time will be easy to know. Even the Surface-Men will have become as the Deep Ones, free and wild and beyond 'good' and 'evil', with their laws and morals thrown aside and all reveling and enjoying themselves. And then there will be a loud noise in the sea of stars and Dagon and Hydra will lay down the yokes placed on them by the gods of Atlantis and all Deep Ones will take them up and fight against all below and all above. And the sea will be as the land and the land will be as the sea, and the first will be last and the last will be first. And there will be new ways to shout and kill and all will love them and despair and not even the dead will be spared their wrath - But those are not every story. There are also stories of the Apostate. You aren't supposed to tell those stories, at least not all of them. But Deep Ones grow fast even if they never die (except killed) and stories of the Apostate have spread with every abyssal congregation and every unholy squatting on dank and forgotten beaches. They say the Apostate was not like the others - a terrible sin in a culture where everyone sings the same songs and dreams the same dreams of destruction. She dreamed strange dreams and thought strange thoughts, and found her way to the hell above, where she has sided with Surface-Men against her people again and again. The Apostate has tried very hard to tell her people new stories but they like the old ones. They are predators who feed on what can speak, who know that cries for mercy are just cries to postpone dinner, and they are always very hungry. However. There are few Deep Ones with an education in theology beyond those who have squatted obscenely before the unholy texts of gods below for a great length of time; but one thing a theologian could tell them is that the problem with telling stories of sinners is that you're also telling stories of sin. If you tell stories of sinful defiance - well, in the end you're just telling stories of defiance. The Apostate dared ignore the songs of war and death and sacrifice. So it is possible to ignore the songs of war and death and sacrifice. The Apostate pitted herself against the champions of Dagon and won - therefore it is possible for a Deep One to reject the teachings of Dagon and survive. The Apostate says that we are stronger - together - and she must be strong indeed to have defied the gods below and to survive the terrible ravages of the hell above for so long. Stronger. Together. is a potent tale indeed for a race of predators. But even the Apostate may not like the ending they prefer.