Avenger Assembled

Wadjet PL: 8 (120) Character History: Born undocumented to a teen mom in the back of a pickup truck in northern Mexico in late 2000, Esperanza Azul and her mother made it safely to the United States on their next trip - when she was four months old. The Azuls (not the last name her mother had back in Honduras, before the gangs shot her brother right in front of her eyes while she was pregnant) settled in Bedlam's Hardwick Park area, where Esperanza grew up wild, her mother's poverty, drinking problems, and personality sending her out onto the street with the district's other wild kids. She was smart; smart enough to see that she was going to die or get knocked up if she stayed in this neighborhood, so she did things to get out of it - learning just enough in school to survive, working out every day of her life, making her plans to one day break out as a superhero. If she did some drugs or fooled around with bad boys in the meantime, so what? She was just doing what she had to do to survive. The Hammer of Justice showed up when she was seventeen, patrolling with a homemade costume to test out some new gear, and he - wasn't so bad. She'd heard he didn't like Hispanics but he seemed all right to her, and she appreciated that he wasn't a phony goody-two-shoes like the hero she'd expected to have to ditch once she'd saved up enough money to operate on her own. He was handsome, albeit a little old with his mask off, had some good stuff back in his lair, and if he had expectations about being his sidekick, well, it was her choice, wasn't it? And if sometimes he smacked her around, well, it wasn't the first time that had happened. Then came the day, after a time on the rooftop, when he beat her until she felt things break, and threw her off it, hard enough that she felt more things break when she hit, and it was so cold she thought she was going to die. The rescue by Lady Horus was unexpected, as was the discovery that the woman behind the mask was an old white lady who talked like Betty Boop and had been fighting the Centurion or something back when Esperanza's grandmother was in diapers. She knows why he did it. He was trying to use her as bait, and to make sure no one took his place as the only hero of Bedlam. Some time has gone by since then. She got her GED, thanks to some time-traveling (!) help from Anna Cline, and she has a home now that isn't that far away from where she grew up. She'll never be the person she was before it all happened, but she's still herself. She's going to be a superhero. She's going to get out of Bedlam. She's even going to make enough money for her siblings to get out of Bedlam too. But first things first - she and Anna Cline are going to take down the Hammer of Justice, and anyone who gets in their way doing it. It's okay. Anna Cline has fought superheroes before. Physical Description: Esperanza Azul is tall and rangy for a young woman of her heritage, indigenous stock from rural Honduras. She has dark bronze skin that's stayed that color even under the usually-grey Bedlam sky. She's cut her hair even shorter than she wore in high school and dyed what's naturally black an almost shocking shade of red. It makes a lot of guys think she's a lesbian but screw them anyway. She has a piercing in her nose and a tattoo on her neck that says "Nunca más." She's a lot sharper and less interested in talking than she used to be, and much less social - partially because of lingering pain from her injuries at the hands of The Hammer of Justice. She spends a lot of time in her workshop. As Wadjet, she's a masked figure whose face is totally covered by an armored costume that itself is partially obscured by a cowl and armored outer garment. Her colors in costume tend towards blue and yellow (which just happen to have been her high school colors too, as well as that of the Wadjet). She likes to stay anonymous, at least in terms of what she does in costume. She does generally sign her work with "Wadjet" when she's done, using spray cans or carefully placed paintball guns. Power Description: Wadjet's powers are combat training (from Anna and people Anna has managed to hire) and her brilliant mind - particularly her self-taught mastery of chemical engineering. Her niche in combat revolves hanging back out of harm's way and peppering her opponents with chemically powered projectiles that explode on impact with various exciting results. She only has a limited stockpile of such weapons other than her signature device, a pocket incendiary round, but she is quite skilled in their application. She doesn't actually have superpowers connected to the Egyptian pantheon, but she's not above allowing people to believe that she has such. Abilities: 2 + 6 + 6 + 10 + 4 + 0 = 28PP STR 12 (+1) DEX 16 (+3) CON 16 (+3) INT 20 (+5) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 10 (+0) Combat: 8 + 12 = 12PP Init: +5 ATK: +4/+8 Gun/+10 Damage DEF: +10 (+4 Dodge Focus, +6, +3 Base) Grapple: +5 Knockback: -3/-1 Saves: 3 + 3 + 4 = 10PP TOU +6/+3 (+3 Con, +3 Costume) FORT +6 (+3 Con, +3) REF +6 (+3 Dex, +3) WILL +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 76R=19PP Bluff 4 (+4/+8) Climb 4 (+5) Craft [Chemical] 5 (+10, SM) Craft [Mechanical] 5 (+10, SM) Disable Device 5 (+10) Intimidate 12 (+12) Investigate 5 (+10) Knowledge [Technology] 5 (+10, SM) Language 2 (English, Miskito, Base: Spanish) Medicine 4 (+6) Notice 8 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Sleight of Hand 2 (+5) Stealth 7 (+10, SM) Feats: 17PP Attack Specialization (Gun) 2 Attractive Eidetic Memory Evasion Dodge Focus 4 Improvised Tools Inventor Jack of all Trades Master Plan Precise Shot Skill Mastery (Craft [Chemical], Craft [Mechanical], Knowledge [Technology], Stealth) Speed of Thought Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 8 + 5 + 13 = 26PP Damage 3 (combat training, PFs: Accurate 3, Innate, Mighty) [8PP] Device 1 (Armored Jumpsuit, 5PP, Flaw: Hard to Lose, PF: Subtle [Concealable]) [5PP] Protection 3 [3DP] Super-Senses 2 (Commlink [Anna Cline], Extended Vision x1 [100 ft]) [1DP] Device 4 (Paintball Gun, 20PP, Flaw: Easy to Lose, PF: Subtle [Collapsible]) [13PP] Gun Array 8 (16PP, PFs: Alternate Powers 4) [20DP] BE: Blast 8 (explosive balls) {16/16} AP: Drain WIS 8 (drugged balls 1.0, Extra: Ranged [Range], Flaw: Unreliable [5 Uses]) {16/16} AP: Obscure 5 (100 ft, visual and auditory, chemical chaff balls, PF: Reversible) {16/16} AP: Paralyze 8 (drugged balls 2.0, Extra: Ranged [Range], Flaw: Unreliable [5 Uses]) {16/16] AP: Speed 1 (10 MPH/100 FPM) {1} + Super-Movement 4 (Slow Fall, Swinging, Wall-Crawling 2) {8} {9/16} costs abilities 28 + combat 20 + saves 10 + skills 19/76 + feats 17 + powers 26 = 120 pts

APPROVED

APPROVED

"...yes, I have heard of you," said Monsoon quietly, her voice still muffled by her armor as she took a few steps closer to her niece. "The Spawn of Sin. Ah, that we must meet at such a time, when the fate of the land whose blood is in our veins is frozen like a dead tide! I had thought you must still be in Asia, but here you are." Her youthful desire to avoid being like her sisters had found her here on a Dakanan hillside, her husband and partner standing behind her with her son in his arms, but that discussion was neither here nor there. "...Mark said you were here to find students for his school, and that is not my business. But if you are looking for your mother, I can...open the door. I have seen her since she married her husband, and she is my ally. I do not know you. You may not like what you find."

Joule didn't have much company at the mobile home park, which was impressively large - bigger than it had looked from the nearby road. She could see activity in some places, smoke rising from chimneys and bonfires, people moving back and forth between the mobile homes, and of course various scruffy-looking men and women idling in the parking lots and elsewhere, but for the most part things looked quiet. Of course - even in Bedlam, criminals didn't typically hang around on street corners (or in mobile home parks) doing crimes. And after all, she wasn't the sort of person to attract that kind of attention - yet. The vending machine was only sixty cents for a can of Coke, a good deal if you ignored labels on the big fat plastic buttons so faded that they looked to be the logos used before the beginning of the decade. Surely it had been changed since then, right? Joule felt a brush at her hip, and found a sticky note attached there where nothing had been before. "COMING DOWN. EYES ON ME. NOT ON YOU. DO YOUR-" A minute or two later, the sky opened up. There was no other word for it - there was a flash of brilliant light from the Sun and a figure stepped out of it with a boom as loud as if a jet had passed by overhead. She was tall and gorgeously platinum blonde, her face half-concealed by the mask underneath a pharoah's crown, her linen dress adorned with gold and jewels like something out of an Egyptologist's fever dream. In her hands were twin ankhs, glowing almost impossibly bright, and as she stepped out of the sunbeam that had brought her there she was practically in a spotlight of attention. "LO!" called the goddess called Lady Horus, a figure everyone in Bedlam knew. "I have come among you burdened with great purpose! There are those among this place who have poisoned this fair city! Who have dared lay their hands against children and women! I have heard tales told that thou art so swollen with haughtiness, arrogance, pride, malice, villainy, rashness, superciliousness, ignorance, and stupidity that there is nothing to surpass you! COME, AND BE TESTED!"

Where's the missing 10PP? =D

APPROVED

Okay. New fights. Going to try an experiment on the form. Still need that DC 22 Reflex save, @alderwitch The Sandersons: Ardent: 18 Sparkler: 17 The Sandersons: 8 Cannibal Alkahest: Woodsman: 25 Nighthawk: 23 Frostbyte: 21 The Solution: 18 Cannibal Alkahest: 5 Woundmaker: Woundmaker: 21 The Dog: 10 Remember to put in BOLD BRACKETS which sub-thread you are in at the top of each post. Okay. Looks like either Nick or I are up next in our respective sub-fights. I'll post tomorrow.

As Sparkler struggled to master the power of the portal, her mother nodded in satisfaction. "That's done. You keep that busy, darling, I'll get us out of here." Spreading her hands, she began to chant "Gaap! King and Prince of the Southern Region! Of the Kingdom Under the Earth! Carry us to freedom!" She kept chanting, drawing eldritch power around her from the blood dripping on the floor, from the nearby presence of her husband, and from some great power that seemed to lie at their feet. "Let your seas wash over us! Let your seas carry us home!" For his part, Mr. Sanderson chose to fire a shot into the melee before them, casting a quick spell that sent an icy blast flashing from his fingers that soon had ice and snow crackling up Nighthawk's feet and shins. "That should hold them long enough - what do you think, darling, shall we head for Switzerland?" He asked his wife. "Let this ugly little mess sort itself out - and start rebuilding family," he said, giving his daughter a meaningful, almost apologetic look. Elsewhere, across a crowded room, Peyton Smith took careful aim with her heavy .38 and pulled off a difficult shot, blasting wood shards into Woundmaker's face but otherwise not seriously injuring the masked assasin. Woodsman had been prepared to let the dog take him on while he concentrated on the Alkahest thing, but between his mother firing on Woundmaker and Nighthawk coming under attack, he found his loyalties uncomfortably divided ."That's the one," Peyton was hissing while she reloaded her .38, obviously an old hand with the brass tool at her belt that let her slide another cylinder in. "That's the one that came and took my arm, and took two hundred other people. The first time it hit the perimeter." She looked at Riley and set her gun down, reaching up to stroke his fuzzy cheek. "My beautiful boy. If I had known they were playing with Ferals, I would never have let them in. I'm so sorry." "It's okay, ma," said Riley, squeezing her hand. "We'll get through this." "I know," said Peyton, taking careful aim at the feral Alkahest. "Hey! Remember me!?" And with that, she opened fire again, bullets this time rebounding off the chest of the twisted image of the Alkahest, a monster-turned-predator from the bottom of the multiverse. "Remember me!?" The hideous beast laughed and turned, leaving behind even its counterpart as it barreled across the room towards Peyton Smith, its purpose unmistakable. Oh, how it laughed, louder and deeper than any of them had heard from Fred's twisted counterpart as it barreled across the room.

Tsunami got a few dozen yards down the mountain. The air was chill with the cool of early morning, the sky the color of a new dawn, and all of a sudden there was another sound like popping bubbles behind her. When she turned, her ride was back - this time joined by the familiar figure of Monsoon. The latter had changed into her armor, all blues and whites and Arabesque designs, her face invisible behind a mask like blue-white porcelain. "Tsunami!" she called. Mark was behind her, holding a big, bouncy baby boy who was eagerly waving his arms and gabbling, a small soft bear clenched in one chubby fist. Mark did his best to look discreet, but the look on his face was faintly apologetic. "I never thanked you for saving my life during the Time of Vengeance," she said. "Perhaps I had my reasons. I look at your face now - and I think I know it. What is your family?"

Ashley frowned at Alek, her dark eyebrows pushing together. You are a guest in their house - but it's not _his_ house, is it? "Didn't get a lot of info on your predecessor, huh?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at Callie as she spoke. Alek could tell he was being addressed but had that feeling he was watching old arguments play out. "You're looking at the first Delta-class metahuman in federal law enforcement," she said, her voice even in a tone Alek recognized from Callie's voice when she didn't want it to be even at all. "And since I'm going to be spending two years with my hair dyed pink pretending to be sixteen again, I'll call teenagers who can out-fight a tank as I see them." "Our firearms policy is going to remain the same," said Callie evenly, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression that mirrored Ashley's. "Agent George will be equipped with a suitable cover identity and cover gear, perhaps with those pulsed energy weapons the Army has been developing. It _is_ going to be a difficult task, Ashley," she said with great frankness as she looked up at her former protege. "I will _not_ let this school become a pawn in domestic politics. Our situation is already delicate enough with the Dakanan heirs arriving next year - I will not let the family of one student jeopardize the learning environment of all the students."

"Yes, she is my spawn," agreed Aquaria. "Her spawn are in that tribe too, so my blood will spread. I should have told you," she admitted with a croak, "but you were already being very kind to come there with me - and I did not want to make it more strange." She hopped out of the craft and looked around, peering into the darkness of the bay with eyes adapted to the ultimate darkness of the abyss. "This is quite a place," she added. "And there is only you here?" The thought of being alone so far beneath the waves seemed terribly lonely, but she wasn't going to comment on that aloud. "Hello!" she bellowed suddenly, the booming bass of her voice ringing out.

Watchdog Old Boss

Ashley frowned. "I am her bodyguard. I'm an agent of the United States Secret Service." Do I not look like I can do the job? her eyes seemed to demand. "This is going to change things for this institution," said Callie quietly, obviously trying to redirect her former protege. "While I've always suspected that some of our contacts in the United States government were more aware of Claremont's true nature than they realized, our secret is now officially out in Washington. The First Family and certain elements of the Executive Branch are aware of this school's purpose and location." "Well you couldn't keep it forever, could you? Fill up a high school with walking nukes and stick it in the heart of a major city, eventually the story was going to leak." It didn't seem like Ashley, or Callie, were particularly worried about the secret getting beyond the US government. "Still, you seemed to enjoy it," commented Callie, giving her former protege an unexpectedly sharp look. "Yes," said Ashley, looking like she was winding tighter and tighter. "I am a graduate of this school. But there's been an almost complete faculty turnover since then-" since your father retired - "and I...don't look like I did when I was sixteen." There had been a reason Copycat's mask had covered her face - and her eyes. "With that in mind, and given the need to provide full-time security to Jaycee Cahill-" "Ashley will be enrolling here as a student until her ward has graduated from this school."

Lacking a better idea, Mark followed along after her, taking out his phone and tapping a few buttons before he had reception. Behind her, the much more fleet-of-foot Tsunami heard Mark beeping his way through the buttons, and then, "Hey babe and baby! Greetings from Dakana!" There was the sound of a burbling small child, and then a familiar woman's voice, "Mark! It's good to see you, darling. And you're sure no assasins followed you there?" "Pretty sure!" said Mark cheerfully, tilting the screen so Tsunami could see a familiar face - Nina al-Darsah with a small child with fluffy black hair on her lap. "See, it's just me and Tsunami here." "...Tsunami, eh?" Nina peered out of the phone at Tsunami, bouncing her son on her lap. She suddenly barked something in Arabic, something that made Mark hesitate and say, "I...don't think so?" before he disappeared. On the outside, Mark's teleportation was a swirl of black bubbles, as if he was paint suddenly being taken up and deposited elsewhere.

"Honey, I'm an old lady. I ain't gonna fight a whole trailer park'a goons." She could, as it happened, but there was no reason to let even a new friend know that. Lotta tough ladies in this burg, she mused. "Gonna send a friend. Just wait by the vending machine by the landlord's office, and keep yer eye on the sky. Things around here have a way of fallin' out of it." She winked at Alyia - and then suddenly was gone, invisible to the eye and the ear except for footprints that rapidly appeared on the damp concrete of the alley before vanishing altogether.

The subsequent delay that brought was _almost_ enough to get Puigo to take action before he was joined again by a familiar face - almost. Free of her environmental suit, Dr. Ariel was short for a humanoid and pretty for one too (as far as Puigo's tastes could determine), with iridescent blue scales, the deep black eyes of a sea creature, and the suggestion of a bipedal posture that would have been as comfortable in the water as outside of it. She was joined by a new face, a pale-skinned humanoid male with bright green hair like a carefully tended mane, who introduced himself as "Captain Samran-342." The number seemed as part of his name as the words, but after the introduction and a welcome, he deferred to the scientist who had first met Puigo. She was in uniform now too, albeit less decorated than the Captain's. "Puigo, there's something we need to tell you, but before we do that, I need you to tell me something. As far as you can recall, what's the current date in the Delazatri calendar?"

PL: 7 (105) Jaycee Cahill 'Claudia Smith' Physical Description: "Claudia Smith" is a pretty girl with long, glossy hair she's dyed reddish-brown and big dark eyes she keeps covered up (even indoors) using the same brand of designer shades that Ashley wears. Her personal fashion sense leads her towards below-the-knee A-line skirts in primary colors and poofy white blouses, personalized with tasteful jewelry with a gold cross around her neck. She speaks with a slight but distinct Southern accent. Pulse's costume consists of a dark grey and brown bodysuit and full facemask (with brown goggles over the eyes), over which she wears a leather jacket like Watchdog's and cargo shorts. When using her powers, the smart molecules in the costume turn the greys and browns much lighter. Character Backstory: Jaycee Cahill was born in 2002 in Guymon, Oklahoma. She's the middle of three girls, all of them named after their father J.T. (who she still calls 'Daddy', especially when she wants something from him). Her family has deep roots in rural Texas County; her late grandfather's savvy business sense made him a millionaire (and the richest man in Texas County, at least for a while) when he sold his failing cattle lands to invest in the natural gas boom of the 1930s. Her daddy met her momma Rachel twenty years ago, when he was fresh out of Harvard and a graduate student at the University of Oklahoma and she was just finishing up her BA in nursing. Rachel left her family in Muskogee behind to settle in her husband's hometown and work as a school nurse; Jaycee looks a lot like her mom, with her mother's skin tone, petite build and dark hair. Jaycee knows there was a time when her daddy wasn't a politician, but she can't really remember it. She wasn't yet in elementary school when her daddy ran for the Oklahoma State Legislature, a position he held for only a few years before deciding legislative service wasn't for him. The former political science professor at OPSU wasn't a man for legislative negotiations and dickering - he wanted to be the man in charge. Friendly to the oil industry, married to a Comanche woman, projecting a folksy-but-informed manner that let him speak cordially to both Tulsa suburbanites and farmers in the Panhandle, JT Cahill ran first as an outsider in the Republican primary, then was elected Governor of Oklahoma in 2010. Jaycee found that she liked being a governor's daughter. She was one of the most popular kids in her tony private schools in Oklahoma City, getting her attention she'd hardly ever won as a middle child back home, and living in Oklahoma City was a lot better than living in Guymon. It meant changes at home - she saw a lot less of her daddy and her momma, but she was reaching an age where that wasn't so bad. She got to travel too; out to DC and down to Austin, getting to know the children of other politicians and rich friends of her daddy's, and even got to visit. She wasn't old enough to be interested in boys the way her older sister Jaybee was, but she was sure that when she did, she'd have her pick of the best ones. She had a lot of plans. Jaycee was old enough to have some idea of what they were getting into when her daddy and momma sat her and her two sisters down in December of 2014 to tell them something very serious. Her daddy had thought hard, he'd prayed hard, and he'd talked to their mom and his friends - and Governor Cahill was going to run for President in the next election. Freshly 13, Jaycee rolled her eyes but didn't actually backsass her daddy - her daddy had just been re-elected Governor earlier that year and she figured the campaign for President couldn't be _that_ different from the campaign for Governor. And besides, it probably wasn't going to amount to anything. She had to admit she loved her dad (privately, anyway), but the country wasn't going to elect her dad, with his corny jokes and his Sooner ties and cheerful belly, President, right? The headaches started around the time of Jaycee's fourteenth birthday, just a short time after her father had been elected President of the United States. They were small at first and she got aspirin for them, then stronger stuff - stuff the White House doctors had to prescribe, then hospital visits to get her on a new type of painkillers. Her daddy's people kept it out of the media, which made her feel a little better - running for President was _not_ like running for Governor at all, and the campaign had turned her life completely upside-down. She knew how important this job was to her family, to her sisters, to America; she decided not to tell anyone when the headaches came back after a few months of treatment - or when she started hearing whispers in empty rooms in the White House, and then seeing things she knew weren't there - strange colors and patterns that she blocked out by sheer force of will. She wasn't going to ruin everything for her family by being a freak! And then came D-Day. Power Description: Subject's metahuman abilities reflect a biological connection to the lower end of the electromagnetic spectrum - particularly the VHF frequencies just above one meter. Her neurological and skeletal systems have a unique chemical composition that makes her a natural transmitter and receiver of these frequencies. In a 'resting' state, she has the ability to send and receive signals along these frequencies, visual data being transmitted to her optic nerve and auditory to her ear canal. However, subject's abilities are 'overpowered' (as is common among younger metahumans). When in an environment with sufficient VHF energy (such as that found in any major metropolitan area), her body begins to act as a natural 'sponge' - absorbing and storing these energies throughout her cellular structure. Sufficient accumulation of these energies results in so-far uncontrolled discharges of energies cascading 'above' the VHF range into microwaves and infrared radiation. These discharges are extremely hazardous to her environment and others within it. Unless her abilities can be reliably controlled, there will be further D-Day events. Subject is not recommended for inhibitor technology for multiple reasons - in addition to the hazard her abilities pose to the sensitive environment where she lives, her neurological functions have become dependent on the VHF radiation she absorbs unconsciously. Without regular exposure to VHF radiation, her brain will begin to shut down and she will enter a persistent comatose state. Abilities: 0 + 0 + 4 + 0 + 4 + 8 = 16PP STR 10 (+0) DEX 10 (+0) CON 14 (+2) INT 10 (+0) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 18 (+4) Combat: 8 + 8 = 16PP Init: +0 ATK: +4 [+7 Ranged] DEF: +10 (+6 Dodge Focus, +4 Base, +2 Flat-Footed) Grapple: +4 Knockback: -2/-1 Saves: 3 + 5 + 3 = 11PP TOU +4/+2 (+2 Con, +2 Defensive Roll) FORT +5 (+2 Con, +3) REF +5 (+0 Dex, +5) WILL +5 (+2 Wis, +3) Skills: 56R=14PP Bluff 1 (+5) Diplomacy 6 (+10) Knowledge (Civics) 5 (+5) Knowledge (Pop Culture) 5 (+5) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 5 (+5) Handle Animal 1 (+5) Medicine 6 (+8) Perform (Vocals) 6 (+10) Ride 5 (+5) Notice 8 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Feats: 14PP Attack Focus (Ranged) 3 Defensive Roll 1 Dodge Focus 6 Improved Defense 2 Redirect Set-Up Powers: 2 + 1 + 29 + 1 = 34PP Concealment 2 (all radio, Extra: Duration [Permanent, +0]) [2PP] Immunity 1 (starvation and thirst) [1PP] Radio Control 14 (28PP, PF: Variable Descriptor 1 [any electromagnetic]) [29PP] BE: Damage 7 (Extras: Area [Burst], Linked [Dazzle]) {14} + Dazzle 7 (radio) (Extras: Area [Burst], Linked [Damage], Secondary Effect, Flaw: Range [Touch]) {14} {14+14=28/28} Super-Senses 2 (Infravision, Radio) [2PP] DC Table Unarmed DC 15 Bruised/Injured Damage DC 22 Bruised/Injured Dazzle DC 22 Ref/Fort Blinded costs Abilities (16) + Combat (16) + Saves (11) + Skills (14) + Feats (14) + Powers (34) = 105

"She's no longer an immediate physical hazard," said Ashley, unconsciously flexing her hands to chase away the memory of burns. "And the First Family and her protective detail have recovered from the injuries they sustained during her power trigger. But her powers are only barely controlled - and she's a Class F, with a recommendation against nullifiers." For a government agent, George was awfully familiar with technical terms about superheroes. "She's dependent on electromagnetic radiation for survival at this point - and there's no prospect of that changing." "After consultation with representatives from the United States government," Callie Summers broke in, "the decision has been made to enroll the young woman as a student at Claremont Academy." Now it was her turn to pause and wait for Alek's reaction.

"Ashley, would you be so kind as to brief Alek?" came Callie, using the voice that Alek knew meant she was trying not to betray any feelings. Ashley blinked at that, and shot Callie a look of faint surprise before she spoke, "...all right. I'm sure the Raven is aware of the incident last month when terrorists from the Foundry deployed an EMP device against the White House before being foiled by the Secret Service." She smiled thinly at that, folding her hands in front of her as she spoke. "I heard CNN called it 'Robot Rumpus'? In any event, The general public is not aware, and Ms. Summers tells me most of Freedom's superheroes are unaware, that this was a cover story created by the White House Press Office and promoted by friends of the President in the press." She shot another look at Callie, who nodded almost imperceptibly, her fingers steepled in front of her on the desk. "The truth is that the electromagnetic event was triggered by the activation of meta-genes. Meta-genes in a member of the First Family." She waited, studying Alek for his reaction.

IN PROTECTIVE CUSTODY by Thevshi Spending one of my Equipment rewards on Watchdog: Description: The Dawg looks like a decade-old Cadillac DeVille that's been modified by an experienced street mechanic into a fearsome road machine, perfect for a badass vigilante. The front of the car is modified to look like a snarling dog with headlights for eyes and snarling teeth around the grille, while the sound of its specially modified engine sounds distinctly like the growl of a large pitbull. It's fast and tough, easily capable of chasing down almost anything on the road - including metahumans! It's also completely bulletproof, with an internal life support system, built-in communicator and satellite phone, 'storage compartments' and an almost unbeatable onboard GPS. A close look reveals even more modifications - 5-inch armored doors, and "bulletproof glass so thick it blocks out parts of the light spectrum." run-flat tires, and a 454-cubic-inch engine.Confirmed accessories include "an integrated 10-disc CD changer, a foldaway desktop and reclining rear seats with massaging, adaptive cushions." It weighs about 14,000 pounds. At the touch of a button, it can turn itself into a normal-looking car - though it's still bright red. Normal mode The Dawg (STR 45 SPD 6 DEF 9 TOU 10 Size: Huge, Features: Alarm 2 [DC 25], Computer, Communications, Hidden Compartments, Navigation System Powers: Impervious Toughness 10, Immunity 9 (Life Support), Morph 6 (normal car), Super-Senses 4 (Radio, Enhancement: Extended)) [55EP] Description: The Dawg Pound is a specially modified warehouse in Port Regal that looks perfect for the home of a gritty young vigilante. With space to park the Dawg and space to park her crew, it's a totally radical place. The fridge is stocked with diet soda and energy drinks, the freezer with frozen pizzas and chicken nuggets, the gym has equipment for punching away your inner demons to an angry techno soundtrack, the flatscreen TV in the rec room even has an XBox One with the latest games. It's angsty teen superhero paradise! Headquarters Array 9 (15EP, AP: Alternate Power 1) [16EP] BE: Dawg Pound [Size: Huge; Toughness: 20; Features: Communications, Computer, Concealed, Garage, Gym, Living Space, Power System, Security System, Workshop] 15EP The House is just a perfectly normal one-story white house with attached garage near the edge of Bayview, away from the city limits - what do you mean? Why would this house be special? AP: House Size: Small; Toughness: 15; Features: Communications, Concealed [4], Garage, Living Space, Power (Impervious + Immunity), Personnel (Other Secret Service Agents), Power System, Security System [2], Workshop Power: Immunity 9 (Life Support) + Impervious Toughness 10 {19/20} 15 EPs 4EPs Masterwork Cellphone Masterwork Rebreather Masterwork Handcuffs Masterwork Tools (Craft [Mechanical]) If I have done the math right (a dangerous assumption) This all equals 75EP which equals 15PP worth of equipment

A big, muscley guy who towered well above her - and Callie to boot. Well at least she changed her sidekick preference, she thought without a trace of humor. "I see protocol's changed since the last time I was in this office," she said, keeping her voice professional. "Nice to meet you." She gripped his hand tight then released, perfectly controlled, perfectly professional. "Alek and I thought you would prefer a more personal approach," said Callie, who came around from behind her desk to touch first Alek's arm, then Ashley's. "Ashley George, this is Alexander Barbeau. Ashley operated as the heroine Copycat during her time in Freedom City." "Yes, well," said Ashley with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "that was a long time ago." Ashley was of average height, with a rounded face that made her look younger than Alek knew she had to be from the stories he'd heard. The hair she was growing out helped with that impression; the neatly-pressed dark suit and pistol in the ankle holster did not.

April 2018 Bayview Freedom City Day 15 since D-Day. In Callie Summers' office, Ashley George was adding up how long it had been since she'd had a good night's sleep in a bed and she wasn't liking the answer. Maybe she should have left the office, and the city, once the final arrangements had been made, giving her more time to wrap up the personal life that she was about to set aside for two years - God, maybe more. Maybe she shouldn't have had that third cup of coffee the night before, denying her a restful sleep in between images of the White House in flames. What could have happened, what might have happened. Ashley George, the biggest hero no one in Washington was ever going to talk about. Silence had fallen in the headmistress's office, in between the ticking of the grandfather clock she'd inherited from her father, and looking across the table at the silent visage of her former mentor, all Ashley could think about was how old she looked. "You actually kept the picture," she finally said, not asking the question of why. She knew the frame well enough, even if it was actually pointed at the headmistress rather than the agent standing on the opposite side of the desk. She wasn't sitting; she wasn't a student here, not anymore. She hadn't seen the girl in it, sixteen years old and bursting with pride, for a long time. "You should take it down while we're here," she said, keeping her voice even. "It'll compromise things." "I will take that under consideration," said Callie Summers, giving her former protege that ever-maddening imperturbable stare. "Thank you for staying for this meeting. I want to make sure you and Raven are properly introduced." "...that's what he is, huh? Just Raven?" asked Ashley, her voice sharper than she'd intended. "Must make things easier."

I'd say go ahead and post this, with the caveats I've already given.

Anna gave her a measuring look. "Yeah, I run by there a couple of times. Nasty little neighborhood if you ask me, but they gotta a gal who fries up cheese curds and burgers real nice outta the back of her place." She stuck her hands in her pockets, looking Joule up and down. "Gonna be guys there with guns and knives, maybe harder stuff - lot of 'em doped up on meth. You hit 'em, you're gonna make some enemies. You gotta way of making sure they can't find you?"