Avenger Assembled
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"Let's go, Jessie," said Aquaria, visions of the oceans drinking Atlantis in her head. Everyone was staring, and pictures were being taken - the Atlanteans leaving didn't mean it was a good idea for them to stay here. She didn't bother heading for the taxis they'd come in on - instead she started pointing Jessie right towards the ocean. Jessie couldn't swim as well as Aquaria could, but she could certainly swim very well indeed; fast and powerful, and far away from any human beings. Swimming home would give Jessie time to cool off - in more ways than one. It occurred to her that the Atlanteans might try and stop them on the way - but she wasn't going to let them chase her out of the ocean again. We didn't do anything wrong! At the edge of the pier, she hopped to the top of the jetty (and over the security ropes) and looked back at Jessie, waiting for her to join her. "Race you home!"
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APPROVED
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"Nono, please!" Aquaria begged as she moved to one side of Jessie, her throat pulsating rapidly in a deep, bass hum. In her mind, four cold dry walls were closing around her - and around Jessie, too, and she would never see her friend again. The psych ward was so far down below, and it sounded so lonely down there with no one to talk to..."Brekekeke!" She kept herself from getting between Jessie and the latter's fist, but she got where she was sure Jessie could see her. "I'm sorry, Jessie, I'm so sorry, I shouldnthavemadeyoucometothefair, it's all my fault!" She shot one glance at Thaelia, one only, and felt the urge, deep in her breast, to go for the Atlantean's throat - but stifled it. There were more important things than vengeance right now. If she was alone, things would be different now. But she wasn't. I hate them! I hate them all so much! "Please, we'll go home, and you can turn on your special music, and you won't even have to leave your room, and I'll make brats on the grill and they'll be much better than the yucky stuff here, it'll be great!"
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Riley fell silent for a moment, listening to his roommate's words - and watching his dogs. He still didn't really understand the obviously strange creatures -forget the weird powers, what kind of weird dog turned down squirrel, anyway? But they seemed like alert, protective animals despite all that - so he was he to judge? "They look pretty great. There were times back home we could have used somebody like you - like them." He fell silent again, wondering if his roommate was going to probe that particular opening, before changing the subject. "So is it just me, or does it seem like there's a lot of really hot girls in our class?" he asked, a grin growing on his face. "Cause that's pretty tight! I don't think I've ever had so many girls who wanted to get their hands on my crossbow," he said, patting the weapon affectionately. "There's gotta be somebody out there who appreciates a dude who knows how to take care of animals, chicks dig that stuff."
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"We could always use you," Mark told Mike truthfully. "You're a good friend - and you're awesome." He took a seat at the little table, leaning back in his chair in a way that would have looked very dangerous for someone less lucky. "Hey, here's a thought! What if we all team up again - and made it stick!" he said. "We could expand the Liberty League to include non-WWII legacies," he went on, "say we're starting a new generation of heroes for the T-Baby crowd!" Nina and Wander weren't really WWII legacies, of course, but a team had to have a theme - and the name of the world's first super-team had been a sacred trust passed down to Trevor and Mark by their grandfathers.
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"Sssh, ssh, it's okay," said Aquaria, moving into action. First she put herself between Jessie and the Atlantean harpies, then she put her hands on Jessie's arms, keeping them in her view the whole time she she couldn't get started. "These...bad people were just leaving, because we weren't doing anything wrong." She turned to face the Atlantean duo, her black pupils dilated until they almost filled her yellow eyes. "How dare you," she croaked from between clenched lips. "We were having a good time. Everything was going okay. And...and who calls herself the daughter of the seas, anyway?" she hissed at Thaelia, her anger bubbling out when she thought of the ball of fear and anger Jessie was barely holding back - and how these spoiled royal fatcats had nearly ruined everything for her best friend in the world. "Millions of people live in the seas! Why don't you call yourself something that makes sense, like Breeds-With-Kin?"
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"From North Bay," replied Riley with a hard smile for what he knew was a confusing answer. A far cry from this world's North Bay, with its big, expensive homes, carefully tended gardens, and wealthy families - something he knew only too well. He was a far cry from the Riley Quinn who'd grown up in this world's North Bay. He had never actually heard a person with a Scottish accent speak, but he did his best to cover his ignorance by changing the subject - or rather keeping it on the subject of himself. "Learned to hunt with it, mostly." He beamed at Sakurako's approach, rather enjoying all these girls paying so much attention to him. "Thanks. I heard there were good shop classes here - thought that'd be fun." He didn't bother mentioning that he doubted very much Sakurako's experience with the woods was anything like his own; that was nothing good to say to a pretty girl! He snapped open a magazine on the bow to show her his work. "Black powder, tear gas, impervium, binary head..." He snapped the magazine shut again. "This'll get anybody's attention."
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The crowd naturally retreated from the object of a superherione's scorn - exposing two figures, one of whom faced her accusers squarely even as she threw aside a half-eaten turkey leg. As close as she stood to her friend, Jessie could hear the faint croaks of Aquaria's heavy breathing and see the sacs bulging at her neck through the heavy lining of her hoodie - signs, she knew, of anxiety to the point of terror from her amphibious compatriot. But the Deep One stood her ground despite her fear, three-fingered hands tense and ready at her sides. "Hey!" she called up, crest bristling under her still-pulled up hoodie. "This isn't one of your gluttonous bone palaces built on lies and blood, princess!" The word was sizzling scorn in her mouth - an obscenity from a throat twisted by foul sorcery, no doubt. "You can't just come here and start trouble with law-abiding residents! I have papers!" Jessie could hear Aquaria muttering to herself with every inward breath, croaks and gurgles that she knew were very foul Deep One oaths about the way the object of anger dined on its own voidings, an automatic reflex probably not audible to anyone else.
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Nina's eyes widened, but she was no feral animal - she gently returned the embrace. "The right reasons," she echoed - and the words seemed to be the right ones, too. A few hours later, after they'd slept and eaten, came the difficult business of gaining access to the prison. Nina had only visited Ifrit herself a few times, but she knew enough to guide the submarine through one of the blind spots near the prison - one of the consequences as well as benefits of being built into the side of a semi-active volcano. "Farida's specialty is construction out of solid water. He was a natural for this position." When they'd both changed into the reflective black, hooded uniforms of Socotra's elite prison guards (each with face masks that echoed, but did not actually ape, Typhoon's own mask), Redbird guided their submarine towards an emergency airlock that the prison's guards would have used to evacuate in the event of a full-scale eruption. "I can make the swim," said Nina, who had declined any need for protective gear despite the five hundred feet of water over their heads. "I trust you will be able to open the door without triggering alarms?"
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He is feinted The 18 hits him flat-footed! Demoralize http://orokos.com/roll/324873 = 21 He rolled a 1 and he is demoralized again! Hard day to be Fake Horus. He's certainly gonna get hurt by Mark again. OK. He is currently bruised x3, dropping his total Tou to 15. His Impervious is 15, so yeah, I think he soaks that?
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pc Waverider (PL 8) - Eternal Phoenix
Avenger Assembled replied to EternalPhoenix's topic in Archived Characters
Lip Reading: By careful observation of the movements of someone’s mouth and lips, you can tell what he is saying. Lip reading is a +5 increase to the DC of your Notice check. You must be within three Notice range increments of the speaker and be able to accurately see him speak. You must also be able to understand the speaker’s language. You have to concentrate on reading lips for a full minute before making the Notice check, and can’t perform some other action during this time. You can move at half speed but not any faster, and must maintain a line of sight to the lips being read. If the check succeeds, you understand the general content of a minute’s worth of speech, but may still miss certain details. If the check fails, you can’t read the speaker’s lips. If the check fails by 5 or more, you draw some incorrect conclusion about the speech. The GM rolls the Notice check so you don’t know whether you succeeded or failed and therefore don’t know whether or not any information you picked up is accurate. You can spend a hero point to re-roll a lip reading attempt, but you do so “blind,” not knowing what the original die roll result was (and therefore whether or not you can do better).. You can retry a failed attempt at lip reading once per minute. Maybe put the Drawback at -2? -
Always a pleasure to see Mal, er, Bastion about! Could you designate his flight movement and his Super-Strength heavy loads, please?
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We are officially out of combat at this point, so go ahead and post as you like.
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"Safety." said Riley, pointing to a lever on the bow, "uncocked," he added, pointing to another. "Swhy it's pointed down, too. Had to show I knew bow safety before they let me carry it around. Like I'm twelve all of a sudden." In Cathy's presence, though, he lost some of the defensive edginess he'd gone into around Huang alone, and shot the girl a cocky grin. "Could do some real damage with it if I wanted to, though. Flashbang inna face'll stun most anything - and impervium bolts'll wake anybody up." He offered Cathy his hand, his grip firm in hers. "Riley Quinn. Your voice is real pretty - you Irish? French?"
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The arrival of the dogs made Riley's back go up - not in fear or disgust the way Matt had seen from some people, but with a watchful wariness that would have looked out of place on most of the other boys in the dorm. Riley cocked his head and locked eyes with the pack for a moment - but just a moment. He knew that if you stared into a dog's eyes, all you were really doing was asking it to throw down with you. "Yeah, okay. Same goes for my stuff...You magic?" he asked quietly, taking a seat on his own mattress. "I don't care what your story is, Dog-boy," he added a moment later, a little too quickly. "But that one wasn't there when we came in," he said with certain knowledge, pointing to the one who'd been under the bed, "and there weren't any dogs out there," he pointed outside, "when we were walkin'."
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"You'd be surprised how much it can keep you relaxed," said Richard easily. "Nine times out of ten, if somebody sees me on the street these days and gives me crap, it's about the show instead of my old life - and nine times out of ten somebody recognizes me, they're a fan and they want an autograph." He leaned back and rubbed Holly's hair affectionately. "Big change from before this little girl was born and Paige and I made money busking on the street and living in our van. That's how our oldest boy grew up, and he's just finishing up at Claremont." He slipped his hands in his jean pocket for a moment, then went on, "It was a little different for us because we tried to stay in the limelight even when we were bad guys, but it's freeing not to worry about having to hide things about yourself anymore. If you put yourself out there, you don't have to worry so much about people looking into you." He knew nothing of magic, but he knew a conservation starter when he heard it - as well as fuel to the fire for his desire to get Taylor on television. "Atypical?" he asked curiously, not wanting to admit he didn't actually have any idea what that word meant.
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"We continue our walk," said Steve, doing his best to be reassuring. There was no point, for example, in telling her just how far they had to go. He took up a position with himself on the outside of the sidewalk and Gina on the inside; eventually she would be thinking more about the gaze of people inside their houses, but for the most part it was the cars that were her nemesis now. He kept talking, pulling up words from nowhere as they went down the road together. Normally he was one to let silences stay empty, but not today when GIna's fear was filling in the empty places in the conversation for her - and to the peril of her peace of mind. "Your neighbor across the way has grown a large structure out of bushes in his front yard that you might find intriguing; Sharl said it was a patriotic symbol from your nation's history."
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Riley sat on the quiet rooftop for a while after Robin disappeared, alone with the ghosts of gigantic trees and the hungry whispers of the creatures that moved among them. They had never seemed more far away - but even now they moved around him in what passed for darkness in Freedom City. I've got a girlfriend! He smiled, then suddenly had a disquieting thought. Crap! I'd better figure out what to do here. He knew a little about romance but romance of his particular flavor was not represented in the people he'd seen before, or for that matter the old books he'd read or movies he'd watched. Suddenly he had another thought. Crap...what was her last name? He was still thinking about that as he began climbing his way down the side of the dorm building, as silent as a passing owl as he disappeared into the darkness.
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One more day, EP.
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Riley kept his head down and his hood up as they headed back to Matt's room, no, their room. Once there, he tossed his bag on the stripped bed against one wall, then carefully set his uncocked crossbow alongside it. "OK, coupla ground rules." He looked over his shoulder at Matt and spoke in a tight, serious tone. "Don't try and sneak up on me. Didn't grow up like the other kids. Don't like it." He unsnapped the hatchet from his belt and set it on the bed too. "No monster movies. None of that kind of crap. I'm probably gonna be in and out a lot. You or the dogs like squirrel?" he asked suddenly. "There's hardly any deer, even in Wharton, but I could probably get a whole bracea squirrel and cook 'em up on a roof somewhere."
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Riley had no idea what a 'Van Helsing' was - but he wasn't gonna admit that to this funny-looking dude with weird teeth. What's up with his face? His grip was hard, his hands callused and worn more than any teenage boy Huang had ever met. From the look in his eye, he had the wariness of a trained fighter. "Sa Parker CenterFire, actually." Pulling the bow from off his back, he snapped open the bow, revealing a variety of augmentations that didn't look store-bought. "Or was, anyway. Three weeks with a workbench means it's mine. Made the bolts, too." He looked over Huang suspiciously. "What's your deal?"
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Mark had lit up like a beacon at the sight of Alex, all happy hugs and promises of a meeting with Nina whenever she felt like it. "I could go get her right now if you want! She's visiting Manhattan but I've got her GPS in my phone and-" But he sobered as she spoke, shaking his head and admitting, "It's, uh, it's too late." This was not something Mark would have willingly admitted back in high school about anything. "I got the message about Mike because I have the UNISON database set to ping me if any of my friends get mentioned. It's already gone global. Sorry, man," he added, awkwardly patting Mike on the arm, a look of sympathy in his eyes. "Uh, can I have black, Trevor?" he said, turning back to Midnight in response to the latter's offer of coffee. "Nina made me swear off cream and sugar." He could have just made his own, of course, but that would be crazy with Trevor's coffee machine right here.
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Avenger AssembledThis guy has no ID? Like, at all - which is weird for someone from the 21st century. His duster pockets are full of what appear to be a variety of gold watches that do not match, along with silver dollars, Spanish currency, and other pieces of money, none of which are embossed with a date later than 1855. He has a big single-action revolver strapped to one hip, and on the other hip is what looks like a weirdly high-tech device - a black circle th9:57 PM size and shape of a tea-set's saucer. It has two buttons on it, right in the center, pressing one produces a staticky, whistling sound like a walkie-talkie.
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"Nice." Riley left his hand on Robin's, liking the feel of her skin against his. His hands were relatively rough, callused with the aftereffects of much more manual labor than most boys his age had ever done. "Nice everything, Robin." Suddenly he put two and two together and remembered something about her name - the girl who'd been in the fight with the living statue at the museum? Not exactly getting a lot of gossip these days. More like the gossip is about me. Pushing aside that thought with a hard, toothed smile, he went on. "Listen, I'm pretty sure I could sit here on the roof and kiss you all night, but I bet Mr. Hawke's gonna be back soon and I don't wanna have to deal with more crap from the dog and pony show tonight. Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked her. "Sounds like we've got some of the same classes."
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"Riley, I don't understand why you won't let me-" "It's fine!" The pair that suddenly passed into the group's vision was decidedly mismatched. The woman in question was a compact, fit-looking woman in her late forties whose stylish red blouse and skirt perfectly complimented her dark complexion and the short black hair that just reached down between her shoulder blades. In her low dress heels and tasteful gold necklace and pearl earrings, she looked like money. The speaker, however, looked nothing like money at all. "Tell Riley he can keep the rest of the clothes. I've got everything I need right here." Riley was short for a boy, with closely-cropped black hair like showed off the dark color of his scalp, looking more like a young soldier than a high school student. Riley's clothing, however, was something else - a brown and green hooded jacket over a vertical-patterned red and white shirt, a thick, heavy, pocketed belt, heavy hiking boots that weren't exactly in fashion. It all looked heavily used, too, with obvious signs of care and mending on everything. The only items that looked new were the black duffel bag Riley carried in one hand - and the obviously custom-made crossbow slung on his back. With fine features and clothing that concealed his shape, and a voice that could have been a deep-voiced girl or high-pitched boy, he cut an ambigious figure. The crossbow, though, and the hatchet slung on one side of that belt, didn't look ambiguous at all. "Do you really need to wear that today?" the older woman asked, shooting a skeptical look at the hardware that did indeed look a little out of place for an incoming Claremont student. "Yeah." Riley replied shortly - and after a moment's awkwardness, the two shared a quick hug. "Thanks for driving me out, Peyton." "I love you, Riley. We're always here for you," she said in a voice that was reassuring, but still not quite maternal. With a smile and wave, she turned and walked off, her heels clicking on the sidewalk, leaving lean-bodied, tense-looking Riley standing by himself on the lawn. He looked around, body pulled tight as a drum, eyes alert as he scanned the crowd.