Avenger Assembled

Diamondlight had gambled when he'd guessed the vintage of this place - but like so many of his gambles, it had paid off! The two or three cars down here looked like classic 60s sportscars - the sort of Mustangs and Porsches that anyone who knew anything about art remembered just from the glossy Technicolor pictures of other times and other places. Somebody had been working on them, though, making custom additions that had once been golden and circular if he was any judge, as if they'd turned the cars into some kind of sweetroll-themed vehicle. Or something else yellow in rounded layers; it was hard to tell after fifty years of decay and rust. Conditions weren't perfect by any means but the floor beneath his feet was dry, even though the air here was reasonably fresh despite its depth. The vault door was set in a hexagonal-shaped opening in the cave wall, and come to think of it there were other openings in the cave wall too, some blocked by debris and some not, - There was a woman waiting on the steps of the old retirement home for the Bee-Keeper, a middle-aged woman who looked only about old enough to be Brian Nisbet's daughter, even though as far as Baxter knew he had no such thing. At the sight of the armored figure, the blonde woman looked relieved. "He's gonna be glad to see you," she confided as they walked inside the home. "He talks about you all the time, how yer honoring his legacy. I'm Anna, by the way," she said. She tensed up, ever so slightly, as they walked inside - but kept moving, making eye contact deliberately with all the staff who were carefully not looking at yet another costumed person visiting Brian Nisbet.

Harrier and Miss Americana Day 3 Archetech There had been terror on the first day - and despair on the second day fought off by desperate activity. And now the infiltrators were in place and the last stand was being made against the invading forces of the Terminus, and there was nothing to do but wait. On his back, Steve raised his eyes to the monitors before him and turned them off by blinking. His eyelids, skin and muscle plastered against his skull, were under his control. He could still hear what was going on outside, and take action if necessary - even if it was only to signal to someone else. What else could he do? He could hear Gina in the other room and that was some scant comfort. She was on the phone again, her voice rising and falling as she paced and spoke. Whoever was on the other end of the line would likely be hearing Miss Americana’s dulcet tones, but here where there was privacy Gina’s voice was edgy and a little pitchy, far more real than any computer-softened sophistication. With the Miss Americana robot damaged and offline, Gina was nearly as stuck as he was, although for different reasons. She could still lend her mind though, so she did. Eventually her conversation wound to a close and Steve could hear the soft thud of her sock feet on the floor as she came near. “How are you feeling?” she asked quietly. “Any change?” It was a genius’s question - one that made him concentrate on the situation rather than dwelling on it. His therapist had discussed the importance of the distinction with him. Come to think of it, Gina saw a therapist too. His voice sounded sick when he spoke it aloud; weak as he pushed through the words, but he did it anyway rather than surrender to his own body.“The pain and hallucinations have not returned.” The latter had been almost entirely psychological - but then the psychological could be very real. He’d known that even before therapy. “We are still alive. It is good.” “Good,” she echoed, carefully reaching out to brush her fingers along his cheek. Even that feeling seemed muted somehow, thanks to the electrical signals running haywire through his cyborg body, but it was pretty much the best anything could feel right now. “I’m running some new simulations that are really promising. We’ll have you up and around in no time.” Gina’s voice was confident, but there were sleepless nights under her eyes and fear in the tiny wrinkles at the corners. “Gotta get you functional pretty soon,” she told him, obviously trying for good humor, “I’ve got all kinds of heavy stuff I need you to move around in my lab. I cannibalized four Emersons for spare parts to build anti-Terminus equipment and I’m stuck doing my own scutwork now. Do you know how long it’s been since I actually had to vacuum?” She laughed weakly. Steve’s slight smile, tugging at the corners of his mouth, was real - the involuntary muscles powered by different nerves than the voluntary ones. If it didn’t last very long, well, it was sincere for all of that. All the great speeches about their feelings for each other had been given by now, and so had the quiet conversations about euthanasia (though those didn’t last very long given Gina’s feelings on the subject) so instead he said in a tone of perfect seriousness, “My labor is yours. Perhaps in...” He didn’t need to tell her which outfit it was. His left hand twitched and he winced slightly; as much pain as he was likely to show. It was easier to stay in the moment with her, so he did, focusing in with just his eyes. He could move his head, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. “...told the others I was in good hands. It was true.” She winced along with him, taking his hand in hers despite knowing it was no more to him than an empty flesh and metal glove right now. “Do you want another sedative?” she asked quietly. “You could do with some more sleep.” Sleep wouldn’t do much more than change the venue of his suffering, take him out of the prison of his useless body and plunge him into hazy nightmares whose details remained just beyond his grasp, but sometimes a change was as good as a rest. “Or how about a mouth swab? I’ve got mint, lemonade or strawberry now,” she offered. Steve hated dependency as much as he hated impracticality - there were no easy answers. At least his toughened skin was unlikely to give him bedsores, at least not in the span he’d been lying there. They hadn’t talked about what would happen if his systems did not reboot once the suppressor field was lifted - or if Gina was unable to repair them after the invasion. “...the lemonade,” he said, knowing that having a fix for a problem would take that look off her face for a while. He did not like seeing her that way, not for him, not for anything. So he could fix her, and she could fix him, and it would be one great cycle of the mechanic and the cyborg. Perhaps I do need that sedative, he contemplated as Gina worked on him. “...thank you.” “No problem,” she told him, carefully selecting and unwrapping the appropriate sponge-tipped applicator. “These things are actually sort of cool, I’m thinking about teaching my home Emerson to use one when I’m in gestalt for a long time, keep me from waking up with that icky mouth feeling. Of course that means letting an Emerson near my face with a stick and I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but it’s still a thought…” She kept up a steady stream of inanities as she moistened his dry mouth, the best she could do for him when his throat muscles were untrustworthy and his digestion spotty at best. Meaningless words were a necessary distraction for both of them. Finally she tossed the swab in the trash and settled back into her chair, resting her hands on her thighs. “Did I tell you I’ve been thinking about coming out? As a superhero, I mean, we’re not about to have an awkward conversation or anything,” she added hastily. Steve was quiet for long enough that it seemed he had fallen asleep, or more likely drifted out of the conversation entirely - but his eyes were still mostly open, and fixed on her. This had been a subject of discussion between them - never quite contention, since he knew how important her secret was to her but certainly - discussion. He’d have told the world who she was, in triumph, years earlier. “Yes. You deserve it.” He didn’t ask if this would mean more going outside, more socializing with friends - that was a conversation for later. His mind wandered - it had not, after all, taken the end of the world for Gina to reveal her identity. Would people find it more plausible now that Miss Americana was his lover? Better to keep that thought to himself too. “You should tell your brother.” “Man, jump right to the hard stuff,” Gina complained half-heartedly. “I guess I might tell him, but the rest of my family can hear it secondhand. That way I get the satisfaction of imagining them watching the press conference.” She laughed a little. “It’s like imagining the audience naked, but less traumatizing for someone with an eidetic visual memory.” There was a moment of silence, both of them quiet and thinking. “I’d like you to be at the press conference with me… if I even do it.” “Then I will have to survive. And so will you.” A war was going on outside still, one that would reshape the destiny of the multiverse - but a battle had been won inside their home. And it was their home now, and had been for a long time. “I love you.”

Here you go, @SpicyWaffle and @Supercape. Cape, give me a Knowledge (Art) check for some of the stuff you find down there!

"He's still at South Side. They're givin' him the hospice care now. There ain't nothin' wrong with him if that's what you're worried about. He's just old, and old men-" There was a distinct hitch in her voice as she went on, "old men die. Come real quick, I told 'em to expect you." - Diamondlight's descent into the cavern beneath his business was easier (albeit more nerve-wracking) than he might have thought; it helped that it was a straight descent rather than an actual climb down a dangerous slope. Of course, this would also make a quick return trip rather difficult. The cavern down below looked like a mix of natural and artificial construction; stone walls and concrete mixed with corroded metal and rough-looking stalactites. There was equipment down here; cars and other things, looking long-abandoned, and a steel door against one wall that looked exactly like a bank vault's door.

Do I sound like that? Anna mouthed at Esperanza, who nodded immediately. With a great sigh, Anna said, "Listen, honey, I don't know what you heard about no 'crazy arsons', but Lady Horus and Wadjet found a giant robot in that plant and traced it back to the owner and that creepy little dwarf that runs around with 'er." She'd never actually met the dwarf, but she trusted Esperanza's description of the man. "They're the ones that burned the place down," which was arguably true if you blamed them for starting the whole fracas. "You gonna send some cars?"

He didn't recognize the voice on the other end - but he heard the tension in it and the pain that might have been suppressed, or recently shed, tears. When she spoke she had a distinct old-style Joisey accent, reminding Baxter a little of some of the old ladies from the neighborhood next to his. "Hello? This is a friend a' Brian Nisbet. Listen, I'm sorry if yer workin', but he's...he's in a real bad way, and he asked to see you. I know you been retired for a coupla years now but I know you ain't no welcher on a deal." He heard a breath, and then, "I'd...I'd fly fast, if I were you."

"I am supremely confident that right will prevail," commented Comrade Frost. "You are fine champion, Warrior Woman. But I need you elsewhere," he commented, glancing from Klara to Dr. Sin and the Duke, then back again. There were no rules in trial by combat about other combats breaking out at the same time, after all. "I have been torn apart before, my dear Dreadnought." He plunged the tip of his sword into the ground, faced Morgen, and said, "Not even death itself could stop me! I am Frost, now and forever. If my blood will convince you then let it be spilled," he said to Morgen. "But be warned. It might not please you!"

Silver titan and possessed thug traded punches, hard enough that the house shook around them with a mighty vibration with every blow. It was a good thing the building was basically structurally sound (despite its age and ill-use) or the whole thing would have come down on their heads. "Rrr...stupid child! Don't you know who I am?" Up close he stunk of something other than human sweat, as if even his physical presence was partially overlaid by some hidden inner power that smelled distinctly of blood and animal feces, like standing close to a slaughterhouse floor. Feeling the ground shake beneath her feet again, Wadjet decided to get the hell out of the second floor of this building before the fight below knocked it down beneath her feet. She ran, fast and hard for the stairs, and came down to find Chromium in hand-to-hand combat with "...the goddamned Jigsaw Man!" she shouted aloud, sounding equal parts angry and alarmed. Why him? Why here? There was no calling Anna in on this one, damn it, not this late. It's just me and the jodido Transformer here!

Okay, Wadjet's turn. She's going to run downstairs and join the fight on her next turn. You're up again!

Fall 2018 The invasion was over, Freedom City was rebuilding and moving on with its life - even if most people had thought that life was going to come to an end. High Steaks had taken some minor structural damage during the fracas, not enough to shut the place down, but enough that keeping a regular movement of engineers, construction workers, and their equipment away from the tourists was just one of the many bits of sleight of hand that made life at the High Steaks interesting. At least until today. "Peter broke through with his pickax," commented Miranda, the tall, rangy Italian-American woman wearing the same orange hardhat and safety gear as the rest of her men. "If he hadn't had his line on him, he'd have fallen in-" She and Diamondlight were standing together at the edge of the substantial sinkhole that had once been the bottom of his lowest underground parking garage, her headlamp only partially illuminating the substantial cavern that the collapse had uncovered. Down below, they could make out other stonework that looked manmade - and definitely something more glittering than stone. Going down there would be quite a gamble. "You want me to call the Freedom League, boss?" - It took Baxter some time to realize that the music was coming from the armor, still tucked away where he'd put it. He recognized the sound; the old Nokia that his uncle had wired into the suit a lifetime ago still worked and the suit probably still had enough power to make it work. But why would anyone be calling it? It had _not_ been part of the numbers he'd given out - but then, he hadn't always been the one in the suit...

Anna slept soundly that night, a skill she'd taught herself in prison. Esperanza slept hardly at all - and was still working on building a new gun the next morning. She did have questions for Anna that she practically spat across the breakfast table. "Dammit, ,why the hell didn't we go over there when we had the chance? By now that lady is probably-" "still in her house. Women like that don't run, honey, not when what they've built up is so nice." She stirred the sugar in her cup, the spoon clinking against the ceramic, then said, "You know, I oughta call up that nice policeman we met the other day and see if he wants to come by. We're gonna hit that place one way or another. She's gonna be waiting for us either way. Might as well give 'em something to see." "And if she _is_ gone?" "Well, what they don't know about what was in it won't hurt 'em..."

It's just noted here in the OOC. Okay, that hits! Tou vs 20: http://orokos.com/roll/654435 = 30 Welp! He's gonna throw a punch of his own. http://orokos.com/roll/654436 = 23 Okay, that hits! Give me a DC 22 Tou save, @Tarrakhash, and I'll post IC.

Spend all the points, drop the feats you're no longer using, edit the stuff out that isn't from the template.

APPROVED

APPROVED

APPROVED

That's Wadjet's obscure effect! Her initiative is 18, if we're throwing down. http://orokos.com/roll/654178

Faced with her actual target, Lady Horus changed tactics. "Thy secrets lie bare, woman," she said, advancing slowly towards the doctor. "The girls school. The dread events of ninety-nine years ago." She pointed to the privacy of Blackmore's office. "You may speak or remain silent but the time grows short as does my patience - death itself stalks this city!" - Wadjet said something short in a language Arrowhawk did not speak but that did not sound polite. "Run," she finally said before firing a shot over the girl's shoulder and towards the sound of movement. "Smoke," she commented to Arrowhawk as the pungent stench of burning chemicals filled the air - along with thick clouds of white smoke as ammonia met hydrochloric acid along with a powerful accelerant. The hissing reaction was loud, blocking sound as well as sight from inside the house, and Wadjet took the occasion to fall back and out of the building.

It puts him at about PL 11, as far as I know - PL 10 offensively and PL 12 defensively.

Fall 2018 The morning after Things were...tense in the steel mill, or maybe it was Anna's imagination. She certainly felt tense - which wasn't the usual way she felt the morning after. She was in the Christmas fuzzy pajamas that she'd brought with her, a gift from her grandkids at the end of the last year. They were full-length and covered her from neck to ankle, but she'd already shown Nicola how quickly she could be out of them if so inclined. She curled her hands around her morning tea and commented quietly, "So...I suppose yer wonderin' who Bryant is." Bryant's name had come up the night before - in a context when if she'd been saying anyone's name, it really should have been Nicola's. "

Keep working on that math! Good to see you still going at it.

Looks good, though you should clarify that it's a 150 PP character - the drawback points don't count towards the total. Once you've done that, you should post it!

She's gonna leave the giant robot alone - now that the little robots are down, it's not too late to steal that thing. Plus if the police ever do show up, it's actual evidence. ?

Upstairs, Wadjet staggered briefly as the entire building shook again, the way it must have when the truck hit it. Jesuschristo what he is he doing down there? That thought was interrupted by a man stepping out of the upstairs bathroom, who had time for one startled exclamation before she spun and smashed him in the head with the butt of her gun, then kicked him in the throat while he was still staggering from the first blow. She threw him back inside the bathroom, acutely aware now that something was very wrong here. There was supposed to be a whole operation on the second floor, including the man she was here to terrify - but where the hell were they? If the whole crew was downstairs the way she thought they were, she hoped the silver guy could handle himself better than she thought. Down below, Chromium's blow had done its job, knocking men to the ground like so many toys but without doing any of them serious injury - sure enough, the display had the thugs pulling back rather than continuing to engage, some into side doors and others out open windows in the old-style house. But his antagonist with the chrome Uzi didn't run; instead, something unsettling happened. He clutched the side of his head, teeth clenched beneath an impressive mustache as the man's eyes visibly glowed and then - he spoke in a hollow, echoing voice that was clearly not human. "So. I was hoping for the pretty blonde or her girlfriend with the tattoos. But you'll do nicely."

http://orokos.com/roll/653545 = somewhat improvising the rules of field battle here, let's say that takes down every thug you can see! Wadjet: Encounters a thug! She hits him, taking 10 to hit him automatically. http://orokos.com/roll/653547 = he's down! Thugs: Something...happens on this turn. Take an HP and give me a Will save vs. DC 16.