Avenger Assembled

"Five years, maybe ten," said Frost reflectively. "And twenty years after that, even the youngest among them will be gone, except for people like us." He started the car and headed off at Talya's direction, magnificently rising above the urge to succumb to such technological temptation as the car's GPS. "I considered violence," he admitted. "But to what end? She regrets those who died because of what she did - and we both knew they would have died anyway at Stalin's hands." He stared at his reflection in the car's grass. "In the end, to get what we wanted, we all had to make...sacrifices." He shook his head, then commented curiously, glad for a more cheerful topic, "You are spending much time in West End lately! Is there new apartment there?"

"You saw it," Riley commented quietly. "I...I missed it. I mean, I was alive, but I was just a tiny baby. I don't remember anything about it." He told her the story of the Forest Wave that had swallowed the world at sunset on the Millennium - and how the heroes who had gone out to fight it had been the first to turn into monsters worse than anything the old world had ever known - the monsters had destroyed what hadn't died when impaled through the heart by a forest of monstrous animals. "Everybody I talk to says how bad it must have been, and it was for all the adults I knew, but f'r me, it was...how I grew up. I think I was, maybe ten, the first time I saw one. Kids go into lockdown when the Ferals are at the fences, but I snuck away one time and got my dad's old binoculars and I climbed up the side of the old parking garage." He shrugged. "There was enough of them that they could have gotten through the first fence, so the Woodsmen were there with bows and blades, killing the ones hanging off the wire. Must've been...a couple hundred on the fence that day. I didn't sneak away again after that, not till I was older."

"Yeah, I know," said Riley, frowning. "I've been in fights before. I just didn't think about it, 'cause..." He looked around at the school and waved his hand. "None of this is here where I'm from. There's nobody who can fly, there's nobody who can run fast - all the people are just regular people. Nobody'dve been there back home." It didn't look like he was rejecting her advice so much as he was still trying to process it. "Everything's different here. People walk around like they have problems when most of them live like kings, and the city, it's...I couldn't even be sitting here like this, not in Bayview, 'specially not at Claremont. Too dangerous." He looked at Erin, then asked, "What happened where you were from?" He scratched the back of his head, where his hair was beginning to grow back in. "They, uh, they told me you were a refugee too. I remembered you from Goodman. They still talk 'bout you there."

Turning a corner, Riley spotted Huang. Great. Freakin' great. As if 'detention' wasn't BS enough, now he had to serve it with Huang Faretti. He was sure Huang had already seen the video of his training exercise - the accidental 'leak' had 'gone viral' among the boys, spread by Jayaman and his jackass friends. He could just imagine what the arrogant dhampir had to say on the subject. He hesitated a bare moment, then kept walking, deliberately making noise so he didn't sneak up on the other boy. Maybe he didn't like Huang very much, but you didn't startle somebody in the middle of a darkened corridor. That just wasn't right. "So. Whaddya in for?" he asked quickly as he took a wary position alongside Huang. He felt naked without his bow; the hatchet on his hip his only weapon.

Talya found Dimitri in the car they'd brought, several blocks away, still in the alley where they'd left it. He was easy enough to find - even if she hadn't recognized her own sports car, there weren't many cars with the windows actually frosted over at this time of year! Inside, Dimitri was sitting in the drivers seat, his hood down, looking unhappily at himself in the mirror. Upon Talya's arrival. he waited until the door was closed before he began speaking. "Well. That is my half of evening gone and wasted. At least there was the espionage and the rooftops before." He turned to Talya. "I will let you pick remainder of evening out. Your times are better than mine."

Steve had flushed along his scars, an interesting palette development given his dark coloration. "I...have heard worse," he reassured Erik a little awkwardly, trying to smooth over the moment. Gina certainly used much fresher language when they were alone - when they were alone. Returning to what was to him the much more interesting subject of the swing, he looked up at Talya in position and suggested, "With the security shutters closed and lights dimmed, you could simulate students working in darkness. Fans and sonic devices could provide inclement weather, or other distractions."

"I was supposed to call for backup," Riley said, sounding deeply skeptical of the idea. "Call in people from my team who wouldn't have gotten turned by the Green Man, so we could work together in taking him down. I pointed out that I don't actually have any freakin' powers except crossbow bolts that blow up, so that if everyone was getting blasted by pollen that I'd probably be Feral too." Erin could hear the capital letter he put on the word, and the bitter rage in his voice as he went on. "So that got me more detention, because I maybe yelled it. That's not so bad, though," he said with a shrug. "Training back home's worse. Least my girl was all right."

"Made it look like the Green Man was eatin' Dr. Metropolis. Like he was gonna eat the whole damn city. Green Man was as big as a house, so I shot Metropolis." Riley shrugged, but she could see the tense set to his shoulders that told her he wasn't as casual about it as he pretended. "Figured no power t' steal, can't eat the city." He fell silent, methodically stringing his bow's line against the crank. "Seen people get eaten," he said suddenly. "Couldn't letit happen. Thought it was better than just sit there and watch 'im die." He set his jaw. "Then the coach shuts everything down, one of t' other kids pukes, and next thing I know my gear has to stay on campus for a week while they check me out. Make sure I'm not crazy."

"I agree. The children do not," said Steve, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Whether the Espadas children, or the orphans we rescued on the Moon, or those at Nicholson, they look at me and see something I do not see in myself. Their parents, however, generally have a different vision." He didn't suggest she pay a visit to the school herself - she was already walking on the edge of her patience, in more ways than one. He was silent for a few moments, then admitted himself, his voice rough, "I am worried about Yolanda. She is so proud of her training at her school and with her family, and so eager to show it to me, and I have been so proud of her efforts. Of her discipline, and her bravery. But I look at her and I see a child who knows everything of war and so little of childhood itself. Perhaps things will be better after more years of education here - and more time to move past what came before. She said she has made a new friend among the children."

"Joined the Woodsmen when I was fourteen. Had a bow before, but that was mostly for hunting." He shrugged diffidently, but it was clear he cared about the praise. "Some old folks still use guns, but better to save the chemicals and the metal for stuff people need. Arrow's a lot quieter too, you need that out in the Forest. This is the big one," he said, holding up the bolt he'd been inspecting earlier. "Impervium head means I get penetration." He turned the bolt over, exposing white and black compartments inside the arrow itself. "Binary explosives slam together when they've hit something and boom - like setting off a hand grenade in their head." He smiled thinly. "But I guess you heard about that already, huh?"

"Yeah, go ahead," said Riley with a little nod. shooting a glance up at her before going back to his work. Erin had the feeling of being tightly scrutinized, a look more intent than the usual high school student could manage. "Riley Quinn." He kept working on his bow as they talked, screwing the arbalest wheel back into place with his pocket knife's screwdriver. "Just cleanin' this thing up. Gotta field-strip it every week, make sure none a' the gears are rustin'" He smiled for a moment, truly proud of his homemade weapon, even if his skill with it had gotten him into some trouble lately. He shot a look at her again, evidently waiting for something.

October 2015 Riley sat alone under the tree, methodically field-stripping his crossbow, his physics textbooks tucked away in the thick grass at his feet. So Headmaster Summers, after a serious conversation with him and promises of a serious conversation with his instructors, had set up a meeting with a famous superheroine. He'd heard of Erin White, of course, and the students of Young Freedom who'd helped save the world so many times. He didn't really care about most of them, half of whose names he didn't even know, but Erin White was someone whose name he knew very well. Alone in isolation in the Goodman Building, Riley ran his hands across the words carved into the bathroom wall. My name is Erin. He'd heard plenty about the dimensional refugee, or at least enough to know he wanted to learn more. But she's prolly gonna talk with me about not shooting anyone in the damn head, he decided gruffly. Like I haven't heard enough of that already. No one looked his way as he held his impervium bolthead up to the sunlight - something which didn't surprise him a bit after that damn accidental video had gotten around. Everybody knew the story. Bolt in hand, he judged the bolt by the way it reflected the light, the glow showing how unmarred the surface of the bolt was. Impervium could be a tricky thing, especially when you were working with scraps.

"Rats eat crap, they taste like crap." Riley shrugged to match Robin, then turned to look at her, reaching over to gently stroke her hair. "Whatever we find, we'll handle it," he promised her. He grinned at her, feeling far away from the grief and rage of not that long ago, before leaning in and giving her a long, slow kiss that lingered on and on. This really was a lot better than talking - even now that they'd talked about the important things. Riley had had a few experiences with girls back home, both before and after his transition, enough that he could tell himself that he was confident and sure as his arms went around Robin and his hands rested on the muscular small of her back.

"It's great," said Riley readily. "I mean, it's scary as Hell when you're out there, but there's nothing sweeter than stalking, tracking, and bagging your own kill. When you're out there on your own with just your weapon in your hand, with just your brain and your guts between you and being in the guts of a grizzly bear, it's the best feeling in the world. It's a way of feeling in touch with everybody who's ever come before you - and everybody who's gonna come after." He grinned, enjoying this guy's company pretty well despite himself. "And nothing tastes better than meat you killed yourself. Sometime I'm gonna get out there, get me some venison, it's gonna be damn nice."

"Ah, do not worry about old Frost," said Dimitri, waving a hand dismissively. "Is not first woman to spurn my affections. Young secretary of friend has promised date some time, should be stimulating." He hmmed, revolving his drink in his glass. "Set, I have question for you to consider. Who gives a a damn?" he asked the deity seriously. "You are god incarnate. You can have companionship when you please, with many who please you. Why care for the Faretti boy? Why care about the words of his father?"

"No. No, you would have been dead, like the rest of them. Or damned, like me." He looked back at her without turning around, red eyes and pale face visible beneath his parka's raised hood, gloved hands relaxed at his side. "Of the heroes who fought the forces of fascism on the Eastern Front, only one is left, Warrior Woman. If I hate you, it is because the dead hate the living." He turned and suddenly stormed out, going past Talya with his hood completely down. "I will be in the car," he muttered to her, still in Russian, emotion thick in his voice. The door was closed, the air chilly as he stalked through the restaurant - but he vanished beneath the doorframe anyway in a puff of mist, and was soon boiling down the street.

"Yes, and I'm sure you live it well," said Nina warmly. "But what about the people who aren't so fortunate? Do you want to leave them to wallow in the filth of a society that will never truly care about them? Look at Europe. Those so-called social democracies that American liberals love so well? They would spit on girls like you and I in the street if we covered our hair or went to mosque - perhaps even because we make some color amid all the Arctic paleness." She sneered, her feelings about bigotry and racism completely unfeigned. "Democracies always fall to the level of the lowest common denominator. The only solution, if you accept the premise of a democratic society, is to better the quality of that lowest common denominator - who by definition cannot understand its own best interests."

Honey grabbed Paige's arm and suddenly, even from just the moment's touch - There'd been so many times. The terror, the pain, the guilt at not being strong enough to avoid either of the first time - but always her love for Harry, making it all okay in the end. The last time, walking alone on campus at night, it had been Carrion Crow - a laughing old sociopath who'd built himself a stealthy jetsuit to prey on his favorite target - young, vulnerable women. She'd heard the stories about him; she knew what he was. This time she'd struggled, struggled so hard that Carrion Crow had cursed her and simply dropped her in Great Bay from a thousand feet up. She'd been conscious until she hit the water. And after that she'd floated, somewhere dark and warm, with no pain, in what she knew was the void between worlds, waiting to finally drift along to the next world. Until the voice came. The Voice had been between worlds for a long time too, trapped over a "political struggle", it said with a low chuckle. But now here had come Honey Henderson, a good woman who'd always tried to do the right thing - but who had died burning with fury, with a rage and grief at a stolen life that the Voice had sensed from all the way across the ocean. Jorōgumo was her name - and she offered Honey her revenge. All she had to do was take her hand. - Emma Howard looked as much like a spider as a girl now, all long limbs and too many of them, a wide-gaping mouth with biting fangs trying and failing to sink their way through Wail's tough skin. A look of horror on his pale face, her grandfather stood up and without a moment's fear put his hands on the little girl, patting her pink, wriggling back and began patting her. "In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the Emma sleeps tonight; in the jungle, the quiet jungle; the Emma sleeps tonight..." He sounded old as he sang, older even than Keith, and when she tried to turn on him he embraced her without hesitation, Emma's fangs sinking against her grandfather's forcefield while he used Keith's mass to pin her in place from the other side. And still he sang. - She'd pulled herself out of the bay, soaking wet. Harry had looked everywhere for Carrion Crow afterwards, damn near tearing the city apart - but it had been a bad week and no other heroes were around to help, and Harry had never been a great detective. But Jorōgumo could see things, and smell them, and follow them. Jorōgumo had entered Carrion Crow's laboratory and caught him away from his armor. And then she had eaten him from the feet up. He hadn't been the first. She'd been there, every time Honey heard Harry talk about the hideous ugly men that he fought, the murderers and the rapists and the scientists who wasted their gifts on mad dreams of power, and every time Jorōgumo had whispered in her ear and offered her a solution. A solution that sounded better each time. A few members of Captain Freedom's Rogues Gallery had emigrated out of the city, sensing trouble. Honey Howard had killed all the rest. "I thought God had forgiven me!" Honey was changing now, slowly, her body wracked with the sound of ripping muscles, her jaw lengthening and eyes beginning to bulge and multiply. "When it wasn't in Jean. But Emma is her granddaddy's little girl...and MINE!"

TERMINATED BY HGM Harrier: Power Level: 12 [15] (250/250PP) [263] Trade-Offs: None Unspent PP: 1 Progress to Electrum: 188/210 In Brief: Omegadrone turned Hero Name: Harrier Alternate Identities: Steven Murdock Identity : Secret Birthplace: Nihilor, the Terminus Occupation: Deputy Chief of Security at HAX Affiliations: HAX, Omegaorphans, the Americana Family, Deep One orphans Family: Dead Age: 100 Apparent Age: 40 Gender: Male Ethnicity: Terminus Height: 6'4" Weight: 600 lbs. Eyes: Black Hair: None Description: Murdock is a brown-skinned man with no visible body hair, just like all combat drones. His face is generally non- descript, save for the small, hair-thin lines that run over most of his body. They look like tribal tattoos, and he will not correct anyone who makes that assumption. He speaks in a flat monotone occasionally leavened by a wistful regret. Harrier is a monster. Clad in black and red armor that bursts out from his back to cover his whole body, he is clearly recognizable as an Omegadrone, fully armed and ready for battle beneath his faceless armor. He prefers to let his fists, and his power pike, do the talking for him if forced into his armor. He flies with the help of the red and black jetpack that erupts from his back with his armor, spewing hellish gouts of flame as it propels him into the stratosphere. Power Descriptions: Harrier is a wrecking machine, a goonsweeper capable of going toe-to-toe with some of the toughest customers in the World of Freedom. Unarmed, blasting or cutting with his pike, he's a powerful threat to almost anyone; a hard, cold blade designed to cut deeply and painfully. History: Once, there was an Earth. It was defended by the greatest heroes of the world, champions of justice and right, avengers of evil: Earth's mightiest superheroes. And then that world died, screaming, as its heroes died and it was sucked into the Terminus. Sally and Ben, survivors of that world, were part of the personal retinue of Steelguard, once friends who became slaves of Shadivan Steelgrave. Steelgrave liked having some around who remembered the old world, and enjoyed reminiscing with them as they tried not to weep at the slayer of billions that their friend had become. He forced them to take anti-aging drugs so they would live as long as he did, and denied them the quick deaths they craved after watching the deaths of their families and the assimilation and corruption of all they loved. When he began to mutter about what a shame it was that there were no more children from their world, in their terror they conceived and gave birth to a son. In one last act of defiance, they named him Stephen, after the man who had once been their captor and tormentor's best friend, then his first victim as Omega corrupted him. Steelgrave was...amused, and gave them something of what they wanted. Stripping them of their immunity to aging, he hurled them into the pits of Nihilor, where the once-favored slaves learned to scrape and fight like the proles they now were. After all, they lacked the courage to die if it meant the death of their son. Stephen Murdock grew up in the pits, the great black castle of Shadivan Steelgrave overhead, with memories of a dead world loud in his ears. He learned to survive in the grim surroundings of Nihilor, the hearthworld of the Terminus, to run and hide from drones, to fight for food, to survive in a world of pure death. When his parents died, Stephen assembled a gang of likely toughs and began doing what he could to make himself master of the pits: not to overthrow the drones, but simply so that the people there could live without having their neigbor as their enemy. When he came to the attention of Steelgrave, as all such visionaries do, he pleaded for mercy, begging for help from the last survivor of their world of marvels. He got that help, oh yes. The process of assimilation into the armies of Omega is a horror best not described in these pages. Bones are removed and replaced with black, terrible Terminus metal, parts of the brain replaced with transceivers to receive the VOICE of Omega, and the body itself is infiltrated with a thousand different pieces of nano-technology. The subject is conscious to the end, naturally, so that when the torment and mutilation ends, he will cling to the VOICE in his head as the voice of his god. Steve Murdock died that day. He became a combat drone, a specially augmented unit designed to fight superhumans. And that was precisely what he did in a dozen different worlds. He was in at the death of mega-billions, a cold, merciless killing machine and agent of assimilation. A particularly powerful and skilled unit, he was traded from Annihilist to Annihilist, even starring in several battles in the arena. His armor was an experimental variety, designed to burst from under his skin when necessary, something which he used to great effect in combat again and again. Until one day, when it all changed. He was leading a squadron of Omegadrones through the Hundred Worlds when an alien starship decloaked just above them and opened fire. The big combat drone at the lead took the brunt of the damage, the tremendous magnetic charge scrambling his circuits...and severing his connection with the Terminus. Heavily damaged and outnumbered, he managed to fight off the lesser drones who attacked him when he was severed from the VOICE, their blasts giving him the drive to escape. And from there he fled, deep into the Void, screaming. It was through great good luck that he stumbled across a Furion raiding party, and even better luck that they didn't kill him out of hand. And when Freedom Bird disarmed him and beat him to his knees, the former drone looked up at the Furion and screamed "I die free!" And that was when Freedom Bird and the others wept, because if a drone could be freed, who knew what freedom could do? The Furions took him in and taught him, teaching him something of himself and of what it meant to be a free man, but he really had no place among those shining symbols of virtue. They knew him too well, and had fought too many drones, to ever fully trust him. Luckily, Freedom Bird knew people who could help, and the former Omegadrone (now calling himself Harrier, after Harriet Tubman), was delivered to the Freedom League, who (after _extensive_ tests), delivered him to the world, with a fake ID and fake name, the better for him to learn about freedom. What better place than Freedom City? It's been quite a ride for the walking embodiment of pain and loss; embraced by some as the ultimate hard-luck hero and others as a symbol of all that is evil and horrible. He is still the monster people tell their children will come for them at night, but he's a hero too. It's a good feeling. He has a woman he loves and a job he cares about, friends and comrades with whom he would fight the worst of monsters with. But the road to redemption is a long one, and Harrier knows better than anyone the perils that lie along the way. After all, blood will tell. Personality & Motivation: Harrier is cold. It's not that he's unfeeling, by no means, but rather that the horrors of life as an Omegadrone have layered depths of memory and grief between himself and the rest of the world. He cares intently for the suffering of others, but shows this by action, not words. He speaks with a slow, deliberate monotone occasionally leavened by moments of wistful emotion. In his civilian ID, he keeps to himself, sometimes in a slightly creepy way. His small apartment has no decorations and sparse furniture. When he's not working, eating, or sleeping, he watches television, doing his best to absorb the reality of this world that's now his home. Otherwise he walks the streets, pike fastened subtly at his side, and tries to learn what he can about humanity. He opens somewhat around his close friends and his lover, but there is still no denying the fact that the scarred-faced drone is _other_, even if most people might not be able to sort it out. Powers & Tactics: Harrier prefers not to use his armor if the situation calls for it, and against many foes he can actually get away with that. Generally he fights silently, his face composed in a flat mask, but when angered by a particularly vile enemy his face contorts into a mask of utterly infuriated rage. He'll usually attack the strongest-looking enemy first, hitting them as hard as he can, not retreating unless absolutely necessary. His staff lets him hurt almost any foe, whether with blasts of Terminus energy or strikes with a devastatingly fast, powerfully charged blade at the head. If forced into his armor he's a terror on the battlefield. He usually fights from the air, blasting away at lesser foes, before landing to begin a slow, methodical elimination of the enemy. He'll allow weaker enemies to shoot him a few times, the better to spread _fear, before landing to begin their punishment. If forced into his armor, he does not linger, and will leave as soon as possible (or at least change back) so as not to attract attention. Complications: Enemy: This is something separate than just people being scared of him. There are people, a lot of people, who'd see a free Omegadone as an opportunity for some free payback. Friends: Wander, Jack of all Blades and company, Dragonfly, and the rest of the HAX and Interceptors crew are people Harrier would walk through fire for. Immigrant: Harrier is still adjusting to local customs and society in Freedom City. He's learned a lot as he's gone, but this is indeed a strange world. Love: Harrier loves Gina Evans, for all that it's a deeply fraught relationship. Double Secret: Harrier has more than one identity to worry about now that he has the Caradoc name. Job: Harrier is frightened of losing his job, as it's one of his connections to the world around him. Monster: Harrier is an Omegadrone. Cops will shoot at him on sight if he's in armor, civilians will run screaming or attack him if they're brave enough. Only a Mother: Even outside of his armor, Steve is no prize. Collector: Between the Omegaorphans that he rescued from a crashed Terminus ship, Yolanda Morales, and the Deep One babies he helped save during the Archevil invasion, Harrier is something of a collector of lost and bereft children. The World I Left Behind Me: The Terminus knows those who escape, and has terrible plans for them. Abilities: 8 + 6 + 6 + 2 + 10 + 4 = 36PP Strength: 30/26 (+10/+8) (18, +8 Innate Density), 41/36/31 Carry Capacity Dexterity: 16 (+3) Constitution: 30/16 (+10/+3) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 20 (+5) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 20 + 20 = 40PP Initiative: +7 Attack: +10 Base, +12 Melee, +12 Pike Blast Grapple: +21 Defense: +12 (+10 Base, +2 Dodge Focus), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -11/-4 Saving Throws: 0 + 2 + 10 = 12PP Toughness: +12/+5 (+10/+3 Con, +2 Protection) (Impervious 9/2) Fortitude: +10/+3 (+10/+3 Con, +0) Reflex: +5 (+3 Dex, +2) Will: +15 (+5 Wis, +10) Skills: 132R = 33PP Computers 2 (+3) Diplomacy 2 (+4) Disable Device 14 (+15) Disguise 0 (+2; +27 / Morph) Intimidate 18 (+20, SM) Knowledge (Cosmology) 19 (+20, SM) Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 9 (+10) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Tactics) 19 (+20) Knowledge (Technology) 4 (+5) Notice 6 (+11, SM) Search 4 (+5) Sense Motive 20 (+25, SM) Stealth 7 (+10) Survival 4 (+9) Swim - Feats: 22PP All-Out Attack Attack Focus (Melee) 2 Challenge (Fast Startle) Dodge Focus 2 Eidetic Memory Improved Initiative Luck 2 Master Plan 2 Move-By Action Power Attack Quick Draw Second Chance 2 (Disable Device checks, save vs. fear) Skill Mastery (Intimidate, Knowledge [Cosmology], Notice, Sense Motive) Startle Takedown Attack 2 Ultimate Save (Will) Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Powers: 14 + 4 + 20 + 14 + 4 + 1 + 2 + 2 + 35 + 8 + 2= 106PP Density 4 (x3 Mass, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Flaws: Permanent, Feats: Innate, Subtle) (Cybernetic, Technological) [14PP] Enhanced Strength 8 Immovable 1 Protection 2 (Extras: Impervious) Super-Strength 1 (Heavy Load: 1.5 tons) Device 1 (Holographic Disguise Unit; 5PP; Hard to Lose) [4 pp] Morph 5 (One form ['Caradoc'], +25 Disguise) Device 6 (Power Pike; 30PP, Flaws: Easy-To-Lose 2, Feats: Restricted [OmegaDrones], Subtle [Collapsible]) [20PP] Concealment 2 (Normal Vision, Flaws: Passive) (Technological) [2PP] Super-Senses 2 (Detect Weakness [Radio], Extras: Analytical) (Technological) [2PP] Terminus Blast-Blade 12.5 (25 points; PF: Alternate Power) [26PP]Base Effect: Blast 12 (Feats: Accurate) (Cosmic, Technological) [26PP] Alternate Power: Strike 2 (Extras: Autofire [12]; Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2, Extended Reach [10ft], Improved Critical 2, Incurable, Mighty, Precise, Variable Descriptor 2 [Any Technological] ) (Technological) [24/25PP] Enhanced Constitution 14 (Cybernetic, Technological) [14PP] Enhanced Strength 4 (Cybernetic, Technological) [4PP] Feature 1 (Temporal Inertia) [1PP] Feature 2 (Cellphone, GPS) [2PP] Immunity 2 (sleep, starvation and thirst) [2PP] Omega Armor 6 (30PP Container, Free Action, Continuous Duration) (Cybernetic, Technological) [35PP] Enhanced Feats 2 (Affects Insubstantial 2 [Unarmed]) [2PP] Flight 3 (50MPH, 500ft per Move Action) [6PP] Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9PP] Impervious Toughness 7 [7PP] Super-Senses 3 (Darkvision, Radio: Enhancements: Accurate, Extended [1000 ft increments]) [6PP] Super-Senses 8 (Terminus Awareness 2 [Mental], Extras: Acute, Analytical, Extended 2 [1000ft Notice Increments], Ranged) [8PP]) [8pp] Super-Strength 1 (Effective STR 41, Cybernetic, Technological) [2PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Melee DC25 Toughness Damage Pike Strike Melee DC27 Toughness Damage Pike Blast Ranged DC27 Toughness Damage Abilities (36) + Combat (40) + Saving Throws (12) + Skills (33) + Feats (22) + Powers (106) = 250/250 Power Points

"I will eat with pleasure," he assured Ellie, a faint smile on his face. He tugged at the rope himself, experimentally pulling until he heard a faint creak. "It should hold anything close to human weight," he agreed. "Possibly more than one." He considered the tactical situation posed by Talya's problem, automatically accepting her into the Interceptor group without further comment. "The special students will understand that they are learning a valuable skill. Tell the other students they are AEGIS agents, infiltrating the headquarters of some dire foe. The children will be delighted." He blinked for a moment at Ellie's words, not offended so much as baffled. The lightbulb went on over his head almost visibly. It...oh! "That is unlikely," he told Ellie seriously. "These ropes would chafe human skin."

"His medicine! Where's his medicine!" frantically croaked Aquaria. When Ellis told her, Aquaria made a standing leap into the water and dived down deep, shoving aside the cage and frantically looking around on the bottom for the dropped 'pen' full of medicine. Her three-fingered hands were strong, capable of bending steel just enough to let her slip inside the cage itself when her first search didn't pan out, and her bulging eyes were adapted to let her see in the water as clearly as the daylight - more clearly, even. But there was no sign of the pen! Oh Mother Hydra please don't let that shark man eat Jessie...She thought about that for a minute. Please don't let Jessie disembowel him and bathe in his guts! Oh the Atlanteans are right there and they'll tell _everybody_...

Okay, rolling Notice. http://orokos.com/roll/332018 = 7! Okay, so far not so good. That's OK, Jessie probably can't kill the shark guy this round, maybe. Jessie can have an HP to spend this round if necessary.

"The gods of my people are monsters here," croaked Aquaria mournfully, lightning cracking overhead. "Dagon and Hydra are only known on the Surface because of those cultists who invaded this city and tried to conquer it for that monstrous half-breed. And because of those Atlanteans." Venom curled into her voice at the last word, but she seemed to shake it off, hopping around beneath the cascading water as if she was more comfortable here than down below. "Oh Mother Hydra, Father Dagon too," she began to croak, each heavy thud on the roof produced by her prostrate leaps making her sing out another verse. "Listen to me sing your song, oh so far from you. I have kept your memory; I have kept your faith..." She stopped translating then, and began singing her own language, an appeal to the dark gods below for joy in this world before an eternity in their maws. She seemed quite swept away by the beauty of the storm.

Mark and Nina exchanged a quick, significant glance. "Huxley was such an Englishman, don't you think? The worst he could imagine is a future of people doing drugs and fornicating. We don't need to be tied down to his inferior vision. And what do the people know of their interests?" said Nina, waving her hand dismissively at the very idea. "The clever ones might, and the lucky ones - but some are simply fatted sheep, waiting to be devoured by the nearest wolf. The wise leader knows to act as a shepard, using her sheer strength of will to unite the common people behind one goal, the betterment of all the humanities." She nodded in satisfaction, taking another sip of wine. "Picture it, my friends. There need be no inferior job, no inferior class, no inferior man, when all are united, when all are one."

Looking up at the rings and Talya's work, he said, "She is planning to teach the students inverted burglary - a valuable skill," he added approvingly. "I was walking and thought to come here." He'd been holding the fifty pound weight in one hand while they talked, and carefully transferred it to the dangling Talya - well aware that her strength likely did not match her dexterity. "I will eat whatever remains," said Steve without changing expression when the subject of food came up. He'd long since learned that the Espadases did not respond well to the idea that someone might not want to eat when there was food on the table - which, to be fair, was not far from his own reaction when it came to other people. Of course, normal people couldn't go days without eating