Avenger Assembled

APPROVED (With the caveat that her self-delusions should eventually wear off over time - just to provide some growth for the character)

APPROVED

You find a camera and transmitter set up in the vacant house across the street - attached to what looks like a decade-old laptop with a now-cut Internet feed, so there's no good way to track it with what you have on hand.

In the end, it wound up being quite a smooth operation. While Woodsman and Mannequin took out two of the thugs still in the van, Hyperactive rescued the two hostages inside the van, the elderly, shaken, but nonetheless grateful van Raaltes. The thugs, one who'd knocked himself out dodging Mannequin and the other still drugged by Woodman's poisoned bolt, had rather different emotions. "Dammit, take them out!" one of the still-conscious ones was yelling at no one in particular. "You have a clear shot!" "Wrong, dumbass!" declared a cheerful Woodsman, who despite his own pounding nerves was feeling pretty good right now - even if he wasn't yet willing to break cover himself to test his theory. But nobody was shooting at Hyperactive or Mannequin, who looked much faster and much tougher than him, respectively. "If your sniper lady was actually here, she could have taken us out no problem the minute we showed up! She fooled you stupid bastards too, huh? Now come out of there or I'll shoot you somewhere it'll hurt real bad!" Cursing and calling out to their evidently-absent ally, the thugs surrendered to the heroes - big, beefy muscle-for-hire types, they didn't look inclined to do much talking.

He did! Go ahead and post to that effect if you would care to make it more explicit.

That does hit, and takes them out. The other thugs surrender! Note by the way that they're all visible.

Neat! Let me know when we're doing it.

Ultrasonic Whistle (Communication 2, Extras: Omni Directional, Flaws: One Way, Limited to whistle) [1 EP] - weirdly enough, this is the only thing I have a question about! Wouldn't limited to dogs be what you mean here?

You need to spend all your PP at character creation - and you need to have some points sunk into Attack. A PL 10 character, given our House Rules, needs at least +3 base attack. Looks interesting! Even if it depresses me a little that someone born in 2000 is actually old enough to be a PC.

As Hyperactive blurred his way through the train, Woodsman worked his magazine lever and fired a bolt through the windshield of the van - the shaft sinking through the shoulder of one of the thugs inside. The man gave out an alarming cry and immediately slumped over, Riley nodding in satisfaction at the rapid effect of the chemical he'd soaked the bolt in. Since his enemies already knew where he was (safely behind the car's engine block), he called, "Just gonna keep shootin' till you quit!" Of course, the guys inside _could_ leave the van and rush him. With that thought in mind, Woodsman lay his razor-sharp hatchet on the grass beside him.

Okay, that's Hyperactive's action. Go ahead and recover, H! Woodsman Power Attacks and shoots one of the thugs, taking 10, and hits automatically. DC 26 Tou save - which he cannot pass. Okay, Mannequin is up.

Hyperactive: 26 Woodsman: 19 Mannequin: 18 Thug 1: 18 Thug 2: 17 Thug 3: 14 Thug 4: 11

Okay, Heritage, did you want to post here?

If you have the space, I'll happily volunteer any of my PCs you think are applicable. Don't prioritize me, though!

Okay, our last combat! Woodsman: 19 Thugs: 18, 17, 14, 11 (Notice how I'm not rolling for the sniper)!

"It's more money than you'll get for saving an old man, that's for sure," taunted the sniper, her amplified voice sounding very pleased with herself. "Look at you, hero, what are you running on, Red Bull and painkillers? What do you think you're wasting your time on?" Despite her words, Hyperactive had a pretty good idea of exactly where his targets were between his own very sharp gaze and Mannequin's indication, but how to actually hit them? At the news of invisible, silent enemies nearby, Woodsman had gone dead quiet, crouching perfectly still in his shelter behind the engine block. Wait a second, he thought, thinking this over. Neither of the adult heroes were looking at him, but something about this whole situation was starting to feel very funny. Why wouldn't she just- He made a snap decision and worked his bow, jerking the handle back and forth and rotating a new bolt into place, and fired a shot in the direction Mannequin was indicating. A cloud of smoke arose from where the arrow landed, a cloud so thick that it clearly indicated the 'null' space occupied by a large passenger van - one that suddenly flickered into view all the way, as if its cloaking device had been disabled or otherwise foiled. Inside the van, two muscular-looking types in dark suits were just giving up efforts to drive away - and were instead going for weapons in the front seats! There were other figures in the back, perhaps Dr. Van Raalte and his wife, but the ones in front seemed like the biggest threat, at least to Riley's eyes.

Citizen stepped into the building, trusting his colleague's stealth and his own connections to Archetech West, and keeping his eyes open wide. He remembered fighting the Nazis, the Curator, the Communion - he could handle this. He wasn't afraid. Keep telling yourself that and you might believe it. He had no immediate words for his counterpart, not when he was still processing the reality of what had happened. The internal kill switches in the robot's brain that kept it from being usable if captured and dismantled had kept personal information from being found - but much of the personality seemed to have survived. Or is pretending to. He kept his back flat against the door once he stepped inside, ready to exit at Mach 1 if he saw the first sign of trouble. He didn't talk - instead he stared at the mysterious woman before him, reaching out with his internal transmitters to reach whatever systems were in the interior of the building. For his counterpart, he had no immediate words.

Citizen PSA "Hello, everyone. My name is Sharl Tulink - I'm a citizen of the Lor Republic." He is a familiar figure, sitting behind the table of what looks like a military vessel's cafeteria - not the most famous hero of the Incursion, certainly not its greatest champion, but someone everyone recognizes from the coverage of the short, horrific war against the Communion even if they can't quite remember the specifics. "I don't normally get involved in politics. Even though I'm a born citizen of the Republic, the world I live on is technically not even a member - not yet, anyway." He grinned and it was, by all accounts, a perfect grin, if you were the kind of sapient who was into that kind of thing. He ran his hands through his black hair, growing spikier than usual out here among the Lor, before going on. "But as you all know, the decision the people of the Republic make in the next few weeks is going to reshape the destiny of the Galaxy. Imperial elections are always important - and this is maybe the most important imperial election since the foundation of the Republic. This is a time when we need to stand together as a people, to put aside our differences, and unite as one behind a common goal - restoring what we lost and rebuilding the greatest civilization in Galactic history. That's why I'm asking you, whoever you are and wherever you live, to cast your vote for Grand Nauarchus Bucklin Frankan. A vote for Frankan means a vote for unity, for strength, and for change. We can't fall back on our neighbors now, not when everyone's been hurt. We need to stand together as one - and the best candidate for that job is the Grand Nauarchus. Thank you for your time." - "Thank you again, Citizen," said the Grand Nauarchus, shaking Sharl's hand with a grip firm despite her age. Of course a century isn't so old among the Lor, not the way it is on Terra. "I appreciate the role you played in repelling the Incursion - and in fighting for our civilization. Are you sure I can't convince you to stay here?" "No ma'am," said Sharl, sparing a glance around the shipyard's computer center. He's projected in here, a feeling that's grown almost unfamiliar after a year with the android body back in Emerald CIty. "I'd love to stay and defend the Republic," he told her sincerely, "but however I was born, Terra's my home now and I need to protect it. I just wish I could do more for the Galaxy as a whole." "Oh, you are," Frankan reassured the young man. "Just as you have from the moment you left Lor-Van with news of the Incursion." They'd met earlier, by remote, in the days of the Incursion - the Grand Nauarchus, then desperately organizing fallback positions for the Lor military, had wanted to spend a few moments speaking to the last sapient being to leave the surface of Lor-Van - the last sapient being to see her husband alive. She hadn't mentioned Rex on this visit at all, however. "You've shown the Galaxy that all of us, whether isolate, hearthworld, or alien, can stand together in the name of Lor civilization against the people who want to tear us apart." "You know," said Sharl thoughtfully,pushing a point he'd been debating with friends back home for months, "I'm not the only Terran who'd like to see us take a stronger position in the Galactic community. The old government classified us as too primitive for contact - but there are Terran scientists doing work ahead of almost anything I've seen in the Galaxy." "Citizen Tulink, once we've dealt with the, ah, distinguished competition, I'll do everything within my power to make sure Terra enjoys the benefits of Lor civilization - just as I'll do for every world that could use our help." She gestured to a galactic map hovering in the middle of her office, the somewhat blobby shape of the Lor Republic and its allies right in the middle of it thanks to some 3-D zooming. "Our opponents may think we're weak - but we'll show the Galaxy that we're stronger than ever." - A holo-image flickers somewhere - like many things on most Lor worlds these days, it could probably use some new parts and tender loving care - but it works all the same. A Lor woman on the far side of middle age stands in the center in a Star Navy uniform, ramrod straight despite her age, and smiling maternally for the camera. She's flanked on one side by a sober-looking cyborg with pale peach skin and obvious cranial and ocular implants along one side of her face - on the other is a dark-faced Lor man in a mentant's tactical uniform, smiling as he holds a small infant in his arms. FRANKAN - STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY - When you turn your head and look at the image another way, it shifts, showing the continuing story - a fleet of Lor starships in orbit around hundreds of worlds, smiling faces below, as uniformed sapients bring food, medicine, and heavy ground-to-space artillery installations, for iron-using octopi, for coal-smelting Lor-analogues, for creatures stranger even than that. - UNITY THROUGH STRENGTH. -

Lemme know if you need a guy (or gal!) and who'd be appropriate!

Woodsman stopped dead on his way towards the woods. "No." He didn't look at Jann as he spoke, instead continuing again into the forest. He followed Jann's directions as they went but didn't seem like a big talker himself. With bow in hand and costume on, he fell back into familiar habits, automatically taking cover behind the biggest trees as they went in a regular pattern that kept the two boys moving in a slow, delberate stutterstep towards their destination in a way that would make it hard for anyone to follow their tracks. Riley's breathing was slow and regular as he went, his pupils round as he disappeared into Woodsman, a man perfectly at home in the forest.

Me too!

Sea Devil hopped from foot to foot, genuinely unsure about how to handle this situation. She was fairly confident that if she opened her visor and bared her gnashing teeth and fangs at the pair of Surfacers that she'd be able to chase them off, but she didn't want to get in trouble with the AEGIS agents not far away. She'd already worried Jessie by going out on her own for this mission, going out and getting herself in trouble with the Surfacer lawgivers would only make matters worse. "There may be a fight here! You should leave!" she croaked again before leaping over the heads of the mother and daughter and scampering towards where Miracle Girl had made her sudden entrance, trusting the ceiling to hold her up as her armor slid open just far enough for the sticky pads on her hands and feet to grip the wood and plaster.

Okay, Vorik, it's all on you here! (For now)

Vorik - Mannequin can 'see' action on his radar. There's a truck parked out front of the house and two people are being loaded inside, both struggling - it looks like the trucks, the kidnapees, and the kidnappers (a half-dozen armed goons) have been rendered invisible to normal senses!

A quick search of the house revealed signs of a struggle - but no Dr. Van Raalte and family either. The other two were just about to head inside to join the speedster for the search when suddenly a voice came at them from underneath a nearby parked car. "I have an anti-material rifle pointed at the freak," came a low female contralto that unquestionably belonged to the woman who they'd fought back in Freedom a few minutes. How the hell did she get here so fast? For his part, Woodsman had dropped behind cover the minute the voice had spoken, so maybe she didn't mean him. Of course, an anti-material rifle could shoot him even through the engine block of this car. "You know, I was expecting the Barnstormers, not Slow Johnny Rocket, Ugly Citizen, and Smelly Bowman." Hey! said Woodsman's silent expression. "You boys are making powerful enemies."