Avenger Assembled

What an interesting sheet, Ed! I like this concept. Some thoughts. We generally set 24 as the cap for baseline human skills. You may want to shift part of that to Enhanced INT (maybe with INT 24/+7) and Enhanced INT 6 - that'll give you space to stunt mind tricks, a good thing for someone with such vast intelligence. You may have some issues with the No Saving Throw (Reflex) with the other mods - it's something I personally like, but they may take issue with it. You should generally bring the array notation inline with that of our sample builds, so his sheet should have, say Protection Array 14 (28 PP, PF: Alternate Power 1) BE: Flight 3 (50 MPH/500 fpm) {6} + Force Field 12 (Extra: Impervious 10) {22} {22+6=28/28} AP: Insubstantial 4 (mystic) {20} + Flight 1 (10 MPH/100 fpm) {2} = {22/28} as what his arrays should look like

All right, let's see some checks! Harrier hits a 20 on his Notice and a 30 on his Cosmology. I'm looking for Computers and Technology from Vector in particular; I think. Notice and Galactic Lore are probably the best for Argonaut.

For his part, Caradoc didn't speak - he wasn't much of a talker in fights, and anyway it sounded like Terrifica was covering the most important details. Instead he charged up his shining blade and drove it deep into the heart of the Collective. His own experience with sentient insect swarms was primarily limited to flesh-eating creatures of the Terminus, but these creatures were hardly bloodswarms. Sure enough, the creature's retaliation, launched against the being that had attacked it, was largely ineffective. While the great tendril of pulsating, biting, hissing insects was certainly menacing-looking, and the way it wrapped around his waist and smashed him against the subway station wall with great force would have probably killed a lesser man, Caradoc had been threatened and battered before but never been kept down by it long. Snapping his blade open again as he pulled himself back to his feet, he silently walked back into the fray.

(Don't worry, EP, that Taunt is still in effect) Somnium is up

Harrier stabs the Collective, which at this point is still solid enough to be tagged by a single hit. http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4558840/ = 28 That hits, and forces a Tou roll. But - as a Complication that gives an HP to Harrier, it takes the hit - and jumps a PL! (The Collective in the book is written very badly, so I am fudging it here.) http://www.freedomplaybypost.com/index.php?app=core&module=search&do=search&fromMainBar=1 - it now has the following stats, upgraded to PL 11. The Collective blasts Harrier with a swarm of cockroaches! http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4558845/ = 24 And hits! Tou vs DC 30 http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4558846/ = 18 I am not prepared for that, so let's spend an HP... http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4558847/ = 31 It's all good.

That got him a cool psychic laugh, even as he made his way through the Malay neighborhood towards the dubious safety of the mountains that stretched overhead. <I'm afraid that was you and your friends. The authorities here may be more openly brutal than they are in America, but at least they're more openly corrupt by the same measure. They'd been paid very well to mind their business as long as their betters minded theirs. But let's not worry about that - the important thing is keeping you out of the hands of the local riff-raff. My name is Paulette Psion. What's yours?> She let some of her self-image slip through the link, probably to reassure Errant - short red hair and blue eyes, a young woman in a white jumpsuit she wore with pride. - "Are you a time traveler?" exclaimed Clock Queen delightedly. "That's wonderful! I'm a time traveler too; just the other day I went back and stole all the pearls off the old Spanish galleon the San Miguel. Arr!" She gave a piratical wink - a moment later, fast as could be, she was giving Cho a sympathetic look. "But it's not the time to talk about old exploits. It's 1981, dear, June 19. Come on, let's get you back to the hotel." And with that, she took Cho's hand and they zipped away - time's normal flow returning in the vacant lot she'd left behind to the sound of two distinct gunshots. They raced through the streets of Capetown at fantastic speed, the town around them standing perfectly still as they made their way down busy streets of stopped cars, past frozen pedestrians, and finally to the gates of a gorgeous hotel. As time resumed its normal speed and people began moving again, Clock Queen led the way through a crowded lobby and out by the pool, heading for a secluded cottage. From the bushy mustaches and Jheri curls on the men to the big hair and colorful frocks on the women, it was clear indeed Cho had gone very far back in time. "Hey, Psion!" she called with a wave over the fence to the cottage next door, to where a young woman with short red hair in a form-fitting white jumpsuit was sitting in a meditative posture. "Tell your dad I got the first one! And that's one for speed over brains!" She turned back to Cho, "Nice people, the Psions, but they spend way too much time thinking." She opened the door to their own cottage and, just inside the kitchenette, revealed a young man about Cho's age whose spiky hair, leather jacket, and jeans probably made him look like a real badass...to someone of Cho's dad's generation. The young man looked up from the table where he appeared to be rolling joints at super-speed. "Ma! You said you weren't gonna bother me today!" "Hey, your pants are on," said Clock Queen with a wave. "Cho, this is my boy Tempus Fugitive. Tempus, this is Cho...at least, that's what she calls herself," she added with a wink. "She's gonna make herself some lunch, and maybe use our shower, and then you and your little friends can do whatever. You behave yourself, Dickie Cline," she said with a pointed gesture her son's way. "I'll be right back." And with that, she was gone!

Hey Rob, just a note that Errant's mental broadcast was not supposed to be audible to everybody.

Monsoon In Brief: Exiled princess turned superheroine Alternate Identity: Nina al-Darsah Identity: Public Birthplace: The Kingdom of Socotra Occupation: Exiled Princess, Socotran exile spokesperson, professional celebrity Affiliations: The Liberty League, the Socotran exile community, Mark Lucas, the people of Socotra Family: The Al-Darsah Dynasty of Socotra Age: 24 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Arab Height: 5'3" Weight: 140 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black Description: Nina has the 'look' of the al-Darsah line - she's shorter and stockier than the average, with a dense build that comes from natural inheritance and intense regular exercise. She keeps her long black hair in a bun when she's in costume or dressed formally, but when she's dressed in civilian clothes and among friends she lets it hang loose. Her skin is darker than the usual for Caucasian women living in Freedom City, enough to mark her as an 'outsider', but actually rather fair for a native of Socotra. She prefers long-sleeved shirts and pants when not 'dressed up', but wears short blue and gold hijabs when socializing formally or with other Muslims, but generally doesn't bother when around Westerners or friends. When dressing up for diplomatic occasions, she plays the part of the dispossesed princess to the hilt in a blue and white abaya. The 'undersuit' for her armor resembles a blue and white burkini with a gold circlet around the top of the head. Her armor deliberately cuts a more old-fashioned look than typical power armor in the World of Freedom - the metal construction looks more like wrought iron than advanced metals, both in the face and the heavy, articulated gauntlets, and the overdress and belt look more like cloth. Her armor's colors are blue and white - her cape and cowl are however a brilliant shade of gold, with Arabic characters for Victory embroided along the edges. Her sword is a keen-bladed scimitar that gleams a brilliant gold along the edges. She generally keeps it strapped to her back, underneath her cape. History: The youngest member of the al-Darsah family, scion of the line of Typhoon, the infamous dictator, king, and would-be conqueror, now aged King of Socotra, Nina al-Darsah has been driven into superheroing by circumstances. She came to America to go to college, wanting something more out of her life before undertaking the family's political games, where she met the superhero Edge (Mark Lucas) - they fell in love, his matchless power and guileless good nature an interesting match with her limited powers but fascination with human nature and the things she could talk them into doing. The surprise reappearance of her mother prompted her to turn against her father in defense of her long-lost love - only to find out that her mother wasn't terribly interested in bonding with the result of what she considered to be the greatest mistake of her life, and one of many crimes perpetrated by the great Typhoon. Life with Mark and his fellow superheroes was a way to live for something larger than herself after being cut off from her family and her people. News that her father has pitted her siblings against each other in a Great Game to decide who will succeed him has prompted her to make a bold decision. Her father is the tyrant everyone has always said - he must be deposed! Personality and Motivation: Nina is a woman of parts - on the one hand she's more self-involved than your typical superheroine, eying situations to see how they can be turned to her advantage, and she's reluctant to stick her neck out for people who don't seem to deserve it. Deep down she thinks the people of Freedom City should give more power to their superheroic population - and she plans to rule Socotra as its queen. But by the same token she's a fundamentally self-sacrificing person, willing to make sacrifices for others even if they don't deserve them. She's able to turn many situations to her advantage. Noblesse oblige is the watchword of the day. She disguises these traits with a sharp tongue and a willingness to be seen like a worse person than she is, something that makes her the sharp knife to Edge's open hand. Powers and Tactics: Monsoon takes the lead against super opponents with her scimitar, cutting and striking with powerful blows augmented by her armor and hydrokinesis. She does the same against groups - she's actually somewhat better with it than she is with her powers. Her powers, which take the form of a swirling black tornado projected from her hands, are useful against single targets, or when mowing down groups of minions. Given the time against a tough opponent, she's likely to try a trip maneuver, then strike with her blade . Complications (mostly for Mark): True Power, The Divine Right To Rule, Is Something You're Born With. Nina's getting better about this, but she still has a lot of issues understanding why people are so jazzed about freedom and democracy. Why should the masses be in charge of their own destiny, anyway? Together, You And I Will Be The Strongest Couple In The Entire World! We Will Dominate The Earth! Nina loves Mark, for all that they see the world very differently, but still thinks she can get him to lose what she sees as naivete. It's Terrible When You Can't Trust The People Who Are Closest To You. People have a way of not trusting the mad despot's daughter, for some reason - and she has her own issues with trusting them. Well, That Sounds Pretty Shallow And Stupid. Let's Try It! Nina's not exactly a hedonist - but she'll try anything once. Do The Tides Command This Ship? Nina's powers require at least some water in whatever she's attacking. No, YOU Miscalculated! Having been the baby of the family her whole life, and now the partner of a very powerful superhero, Nina al-Darsah is eager to prove she's just as tough as anyone else - even when she most certainly isn't. Abilities: 8 + 8 + 8 + 4 + 6 + 4 = 38PP STR 22/18 (+6/+4) DEX 18 (+4) CON 18 (+4) INT 14 (+2) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24PP Init: +4 ATK: +6 (+10 Melee/+14 Noahic) [+8 (+12 Melee/+16 Noahic in suit)] DEF: +12 (+6 Dodge Focus, +6 Base, +3 Flat-Footed) Grapple: +14/+12 w/Noahic [+16/+18/+14 w/Noahic in suit]) Knockback: -12/-6/-4 Saves: 3 + 3 + 4 = 10PP TOU +12/+8 (+4 Con, +4 Protection, +4 Protection [Suit], [+12 Impervious w/Suit Array]) FORT +12/+7 (+4 Con, +3, +5 Suit) REF +12/+7 (+4 Con, +3, +5 Suit) WILL +12/+7 (+3 Wis, +4, +5 Suit) Skills: 66/68 r = 17PP Acrobatics 6 (+10, SM) Bluff 15 (+17, SM) Diplomacy 6 (+8) Intimidate 6 (+8) Languages 3 (Arabic, English, Farsi, [Base] Soqotri) Knowledge (History) 4 (+6) Notice 12 (+15, SM) Sense Motive 12 (+15, SM) Stealth 2 (+6) Feats: 23PP Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus: Melee 4 Challenge 2 (Fast Feint, Fast Taunt) Dodge Focus 6 Environmental Adaptation (Underwater) Evasion Fearless Quick Draw Second Chance (Will Saves vs. Mind Control) Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Bluff, Notice, Sense Motive) Startle Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 7 + 30 + 3 + 5 + 17 + 4 + 2 = 68PP Device 2 (Farida's Scimitar, Flaw: Easy to Lose, PF: Indestructible [technological]) [7PP] Damage 6 (PFs: Affects Insubstantial 2, Improved Crit, Mighty) [10DP] Device 7 (35PP, Monsoon's Armor, Flaw: Hard to Lose, PFs: Restricted 2 [Monsoon] [technological]) [30PP] Enhanced ATK 2 (to ATK +8) [4DP] Enhanced Noahic Array 0 (PF: Alternate Power 1) [1PP] BE: Impervious Toughess 12 (hydrokinetic stiffening) {12/12} Enhanced Saves 15 (Fortitude 5, Reflex 5, Will 5) [15DP] Enhanced Strength 4 (to STR 22/+6) [4DP] Immunity 6 (disease, heat, radiation, poison, suffocation [Buys Off Flaw], Vacuum) [6DP] Protection 4 [4DP] Super-Senses 1 (Danger Sense [radio]) [1DP] 4 + 1 + 15 + 4 + 6 + 4 + 1 = 35/35 Immunity 3 (cold, drowning, high pressure [mutation]) [3PP] Movement Array 2 (4PP, PF: Alternate Power 1 [mutation]) [5PP] BE: Flight 2 (25 MPH/250FPM) [4PP] AP: Swimming 4 (25MPH/250FPM) {4/4} Noahic Array 6 (12PP, PFs: Accurate 4, Alternate Powers 1 [mutation]) [17PP] BE: Move Object 6 (Effective STR 30, Heavy Load 1200 lbs, Extra: Damaging, Flaw: Duration [Concentration]) [12/12] AP: Trip 6 ( Extra: Knockback ) [12/12] Protection 4 [4PP] Super-Senses 2 (Darkvision) [2PP] ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 19 Tou Bruised/Injured Sword Touch DC 25 Tou Bruised/Injured Noahic Array Ranged DC 21 Tou Bruised/Injured Unarmed in Suit Touch DC 21 Bruised/Injured Sword in Suit Touch DC 27 Tou Bruised/Injured Abilities (38) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (10) + Skills (17) + Feats (23) + Powers (68) - Drawbacks (0) = 180/180 Power Points

Edge In Brief: All-powerful reality warper trying to keep the world together Alternate Identity: Mark Mason Lucas Identity: Public Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Humanitarian worker, superhero Affiliations: Liberty League, Nina al-Darsah, Lucas family legacy Family: Rick Lucas [father, dead], Martha Lucas [mother], Nina al-Darsah [fiancee] Age: 24 Gender: Male Ethnicity: White Height: 6'0" Weight: 165 lbs Eyes: Blue Hair: Blond Description: Tall, blond, and impeccably groomed without having to work at it, Mark Lucas looks like he just stepped out of Central Casting for a superhero - or maybe a future President. When he's working, he wears a black suit with blue dress shirt and gold tie that never seems to get dirty. When he's not working, he dresses down, preferring merchandise branded with Freedom City sports teams. He's a big Heroes fan - who isn't? History: A scion of a long line of superheroes dating back to the Golden Age of Freedom City, Mark Lucas's firm belief in the world of superheroes and their innate goodness would be annoying if he wasn't so nice. Luckily for him, those beliefs are mostly true in the sunny, optimistic World of Freedom. Having graduated high school, earned his college diploma by taking online classes, and incidentally saved the entire multiverse before he finished that first thing, these days Edge is one of the most powerful people on the planet - he spends most of his time traveling the world for his job with the United Nations, helping the poor and needy. He's recently abandoned the costume he's worn since high school for a more 'plainclothes' looking outfit, as part of the life changes that had come with his engagement to Nina al-Darsah. He has also recently gone public with his super-identity. He's still a loyal member of the Liberty League, though, with a deep respect for the legacy of Freedom City's superheroes. Personality and Motivation: Mark Lucas is sunny and amiable, determined to make everything better. Luckily he has the power to do just that - and the personality to talk people into just about anything. He's a trusting soul, though hard to lie to, and tends to assume the best from everybody. Even bad guys love their mamas and want a better world, they just don't know how to get there without some help. He very rarely gets angry - only when people he cares about are very sorely threatened. He loves his fiancee very much - and does plan to join her in Socotra when she becomes queen. Mark's biggest weakness is that deep down he does resent how the Freedom League treated his father's legacy in the wake of the events of House of L and Graduation Day (see the Guidebook for more information). Powers and Tactics: Mark would be the most frightening man in the world if he wasn't so amiable. As it is, in an actual fight he usually tries to talk down the person he's fighting with, boosting his teammates at the same time just by being around them. If forced to actually do battle himself, he'll generally turn opponents' weapons into something harmless, pin them down with debris or the results of other accidents, or simply strike them with a raw torrent of magical energy that takes the form of what looks like some natural phenomenon gone wild. The latter he only uses when sorely pressed - he genuinely wants to avoid a fight with all but the most terrible enemies. His powers tend to be showy and ostentatious, never subtle, and he'll usually throw up various created objects in the middle of the field as a way of distracting an opponent. Most of his professional life, he spends making and distributing things for poor people around the world. He is the most powerful superhuman in the employ of the United Nations - and definitely the most famous. -- Complications: Agent. Mark's duties as an agent of UNISON are generally mundane - he's usually posted to the poorest countries of the world to provide emergency aid and transportation to the people who need it most. But being a UNISON field agent, even one who is technically low-level support personnel, isn't the same thing as being a superhero - and one day they just might come into conflict. "But just in case... tell me the whole thing again, I wasn't listening." He really wasn't. Feel free to hand Mark, or his teammates, an HP if he missed some pertinent piece of information. Dethroner. When he was younger, Mark Lucas helped dethrone Omega, the Knight of Entropy and Lord of the Terminus. Cosmic beings, particularly those associated with the Terminus, will recognize this and act accordingly - whether to commend him, or target him. Mark knows deep down in his soul that the Terminus will come for him again; just as he knows equally well that the heroes will win that time too. Extremely loud and incredibly close. Mark's powers ARE NOT SUBTLE! Not only are they bright, noisy, and eye-catching to mundane spectators, they burn like a damn flashbang to magical senses. They can sense him coming a mile away - and they probably will not like it! Father. From sidekick, to ally, to support personnel, to adventurer, to cosmic world-warping threat, the career of Rick Lucas has defined Mark's life from before he was born. Rick is gone now, having given his life to save all of existence, but from a Freedom League that doesn't really trust the heir to the man that betrayed the world to villains who bitterly remember the wacky teenager's quips who so constantly humiliated them, his legacy lives on. God. Mark really is much more powerful than he should be by any reasonable understanding of magic. Djinn grandparents usually mean a lucky childhood or minor fire control abilities, not walking magical juggernauts capable of going toe-to-toe with the most powerful beings in Earth-Prime. Mark is vaguely aware of this, but willing to live with it - he's not one to brag unless he's super-stressed out. But that much power has a way of attracting attention... I am not a genie. Mark usually denies any relation to genies - but he actually is. Jimmy Lucas. World War II veteran, genie master, heart and soul (though not the brains, hahaha) of the first Liberty League, Jimmy Lucas was Mark Lucas's grandfather. Or so he'll tell you. Liberty League. The first Liberty League fought the Third Reich, the Empire of Japan, and then the Grue - the world-conquering threats that were the worst thing anyone had ever faced in the 1940s. The new League, and the members who fought against first Omega, then many more foes, may not get the glory they deserve - but at the end of the day, like as not they're the ones going to be there when the time travelers, or the entropic overlords, or world-eating cosmic threats show up. It's just in the job description. Mom. Martha Lucas is on her meds, back at work making Andi comics, and recently helped talk her publisher out of publishing a line of Freedom Zombie comics. Things are good. Nina. It started with Mark's desire to get to know the pretty princess with the strong personality, then it blossomed into something more. Mark and Nina have been cohabitating for about the past year now, taking advantage of her isolation from home to have the kind of relationship between equals she'd likely have been denied back in Socotra. But now that she's stepped away from her father, and that endgame they both knew was coming has gone away - things are changing between them. All that talk about morality and how a hero is supposed to act isn't just idle talk around the breakfast table anymore. Shenanigans. The GM should feel free to hand Edge an HP when the character is dared to do something or otherwise given an opportunity to do something unwise with the words "You're up for this." Upstairs. Mark doesn't have a lot going on up there. He's super-pretty, though! Women. Mark really does love his girlfriend, but he likes ladies of some kind too. Abilities: 2 + 4 + 14 + 10 + 2 + 14 = 36PP STR 12 (+1) DEX 14 (+2) CON 24 (+7) INT 10 (+0) WIS 12 (+1) CHA 24 (+7) Combat: 8 + 10 = 18PP Init: +2 ATK: +4 (+10 w/Move Object) DEF: +10 (+5 Dodge, +5 Base, +2 flat-footed) Grapple: +4/+24 w/Move Object Knockback: -10/-3 Saves: 1 + 6 + 7 = 14PP TOU: +20/+7 (+13 Force Field, +7 Con) FORT +8 (+7 Con, +1) REF +8 (+2 Dex, +6) WILL +8 (+1 Wis, +7) Skills: 72r=18PP Bluff 8 (+15) Concentration 7 (+8) Craft (Artistic) 10 (+10) Diplomacy 20 (+27) Knowledge (Popular Culture) 10 (+10) Knowledge (History) 10 (+10) Languages 3 (English [Base], Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish) Medicine 4 (+5) Feats: 59PP Beginner's Luck Benefit 1 (Status [Hey, It's Edge!]) Connected Distract (Diplomacy) Dodge Focus 5 Eidetic Memory Inspire 5 Jack of all Trades Luck 7 Sidekick 36 Powers: 5+ 16 + 3 + 14 + 2 + 12 + 54 = 105PP Device 1 (Archtech-brand smartphone, 5PP, Features 5 [Camera, Cellphone, Computer, GPS, Flashlight] Flaw: Easy to Lose, PF: Restricted [password]) [4PP] Enhanced Feats 4 (Ultimate Save 4 [Fortitude, Reflex, Toughness, Will]; Extras: Affects Others, Range 2 [Perception]) [16PP] Enhanced Feats 2 (Quick Change 2, Extra: Affects Others, Flaw: Action [Move], PF: Precise) [3PP] Force Field 13 (reality bending, PF: Subtle [magic senses]) [14PP] Immunity 2 (aging, despair effects) [2PP] Luck Control 4 (cancel GM Fiat, cancel HP expenditure of others, give someone else HP, spend HP for someone else) [12PP] Mark is Magic 25 (50PP, PFs: Alternate Powers 4) [54PP] BE: Damage 15 (Extras: Area [General, Burst], Selective, PFs: Indirect 3, Variable Descriptor 2 [any accident]) [50/50] AP: Create Object 15 (Extras: Duration [Continuous], PFs: Innate, Precise, Selective) [48/50] AP: Move Object 20 (Effective STR 100, Heavy Load: 12.5ktons, Extra: Damaging, Flaw: Duration [Concentration], PFs: Accurate 3, Affects Insubstantial 2, Indirect 3, Precise) [49/50] AP: Teleport 10 (1000 ft/Earth to Moon, Extras: Accurate [+1], Area [General, Burst], Selective, Flaw: Long Range Only, PFs: Progression 10 [100k lbs]) [50/50] AP: Transform 10 (inanimate to inanimate, 1000 lbs, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Flaw: Action [Full]) [50/50] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 16 Tou Bruised/Injured Damage Touch DC 30 Tou Bruised/Injured Create Object Ranged DC 25 Reflex Caught Move Object Ranged DC 30 Tou Bruised/Injured Abilities (36) + Combat (18) + Saving Throws (14) + Skills (18) + Feats (59) + Powers (105) - Drawbacks (0) = 250/250 Power Points

Frances and Carolyn Psion are both in the custody of law enforcement as of the summer of 2014. Frances, aka Ember Psion, is a notorious metahuman terrorist - a suspect in a wide variety of arson cases and a suspicious number of deaths. Carolyn, however, has largely been cleared despite her own involvement in the Psion family's various criminal activities. Frances has specifically singled Carolyn out in her testimony as an innocent; as someone the rest of the family bullied and brainwashed into committing what crimes she had. Carolyn has provided the authorities with the full details of her grandfather's involvement with metahuman terrorism, which has allowed Carolyn has been put into witness protection, taking little Gimel Psion (who turned out to have no metahuman powers at all) with her. For her part, Frances has taken full responsibility for herself. While she's allowed her lawyer to enter a plea of diminished capacity on her behalf, Frances Psion has otherwise not been interested in pleading innocent or downplaying the severity of her crimes - she is a proud warrior in the service of the metahuman nation, and while she's admitted her grandfather's crimes (and abandoned much of her hatred for her aunt's family), in her mind it doesn't change the reality of the world in which they live. The metahumans are the coming race, even if her grandfather was a false prophet of that revolution. Privately, she knows she has no place in the outside... As for the rest of the Psions, they've largely gone to ground - while a teleporter matching Jump's signature has been seen working for the Crime League, neither Empath nor Aura have made any public appearances within the sight of superheroes. The Psions maintain lairs in northern Maine, northwestern Nebraska, and other remote locations, and with Jump's powers they can move back and forth at will. One thing is known, however - people who go looking among villains will find that Julie and Josh have both been making inquiries among the younger generation of villain. The Psion Family, for the first time in many years, is recruiting.

Minus Quick Draw it is a move action, yes. With a 9, the Collective fails to resist the Taunt. Go ahead and post, EP!

Earlier this year, Jack Wolf killed Parker Psion in front of hundreds of witnesses. There was an intense investigation, one that mobilized everyone from the FCPD through the Freedom League. Wolf turned himself in and was held in police custody for several weeks while his brain was scrutinized by psychics on loan from AEGIS and the Freedom League. After that, he was released. Mind control has been an affirmative defense in criminal courts for over four decades in New Jersey, and the evidence that Parker Psion had mind-controlled Wolf to shoot him through the head was clear. Wolf could potentially have been prosecuted if the state had been feeling ambitious; but no one was seriously interested in prosecuting the foster father of the beloved Atom Family for murdering a mad old eugenicist terrorist like Parker Psion, a man who had menaced Freedom City's heroes for decades and gone out of this world with one last blow struck against his mortal enemies.

At the bottom of the elevator shaft, the two Omegadrones pushed their way through another double door to find themselves in a bare-walled concrete box that was not quite the decadent lair of an Annihilist, with its unspeakable wall-hangings, writhing cultists, torture devices, or any other of the symbology of horror. Instead there was simply a machine encased in four simple concrete walls; a machine that they both recognized in part. This was a bomb; a powerful, city-killing bomb like those used in the endless wars on the surface of Nihilor itself. The principles of entropic annihilation were no different on Earth-Prime than they were in the Terminus; when it detonated, this bomb would incinerate Darwin down to the bedrock and scatter the ashes into the atmosphere. The interior of the bomb was adorned with something neither of them recognized - the bomb's usual payload had been replaced by clear cylinders holding a grey, sludgy fluid that seemed to writhe ever-so-slightly as they watched. "I don't recognize the charge," said Harrier in a clipped, nearly mechanical voice. Kneeling down, he peered into the bomb's guts - no easy feat given the anti-Escherian architecture of the device, an unholy amalgamation of metallic spheres and trapezoids that were fitted together at an angle that any sentient being would know was inherently wrong. "But it is active. It would not be otherwise." - Upstairs, in a strangely unsecured computer, Vector found evidence of a massive conspiracy to fake Grue sightings in and around greater Perth. Newman had used hidden reserves to buy up all the Grue tissue stocks in Oceania and distribute them freely (through frustratingly unnamed agents) all through the region, all designed to get as many of Australia's superheroes to cluster around the city as possible. From the half-conscious drone, meanwhile, came the whisper - "You'll look lovely in red and black, girl."

"We _could_ do it, Commander," said one of the aliens, who had introduced itself as 'Red', its mechanical voice hard to read. "It would be a simple matter to convert the matter-changer to handle living matter. We could render them into the Imageria until we find a planet with a compatible biosphere - their own expectations will let them rebuild a world around them until we find them a new sanctuary. Perhaps that gas-giant moon in the Green Sector." "...hmmm. All right," said Irdonozur, nodding his hair-snakes towards first the assembled humans, then his own people. "We will attempt this for the hunters that you honor, in the name of our friends of this place. But we must wait until the impending impact is more obvious to their eyes. A religious event that they will perceive as a death, then a rebirth in a new world, will be easier for their heirs to dismiss than a clear mystery. Red, Green, I trust you with this task - I will remain here with our friends to observe them as they observe the hunters." With the two aliens beamed back aboard their spaceship, Richard hmmed for a fast instant before commenting, "Well, I think the boy and I have an appointment with a T-Rex in the middle of the continent. C'mon, son, we've got a job to do!" And with that, in twin miniature sonic booms, the Cline men were off again to the heartland of North America.

On the opposite wall, a face suddenly appeared, then seemed to lean backwards out of the frame to reveal its owner. With long black hair, brown eyes, and a muscular body, the nude man in the chair might have been handsome once - but even there, alive and breathing, he looked unhealthy as he settled back into the chair. His skin was sallow and his eyes deep in their sockets, his veins standing out black against his skin. "Hello," he smiled, and the inside of his mouth was black as well, as if he'd been chewing licorice - if licorice could writhe like maggots. "This is the final journal entry of Taddai Hendahwit, and the birth of..." He chuckled, a dry, hacking cough, and leaned back in his seat. "...someone new. After all these years of searching, after all the sacrifices I have made, I have found the gateway to der Schattenwelt. I don't care what that old fire-spirit said; I will open that gateway right here!" He pointed to his chest. "And I will become the embodiment of power! I will restore magic to this cold, dead world; I will BE magic!" He laughed. "No more sickness, no more lies, no more holding back. _I_ will be remembered as the greatest of my family, as the Hendahwit who dared reach out and break the very boundaries of the universe. Space, time, and magic itself will be finally be mine! Diary, I tell you this in the interests of history. One day my grandchildren will look on this, and they will know who it was that made them so special!" He began chanting and gesturing, his body half-obscured by the table, and black, inky darkness like animate smoke began to rise out of the books on the table before him, slowly pooling up his body and pouring into his eyes, his mouth, his ears, his nose, every visible orifice on his body. His body darkened, turning darker and darker, and then finally a deeper darkness that seemed to drain all the light in the room for a long moment. He kept chanting, but his voice was cut off into a gagging, hideous wheeze as suddenly the inky darkness he had absorbed came erupting outwards again - as if his very soul was being torn out and given animate form, dropping from the mortal flesh like a butterfly erupting from a chrysalis. The all-too-familiar sight of the being that had come back in time to kill their parents slowly pooled up from the smoke like an old-fashioned picture developing. The white-eyed humanoid turned and looked at the 'camera', then turned and walked out of view. Showing, horribly, that Taddai Hendahwit was still alive! Unable to move, unable to do anything more than twitch in his seat, and silently move his lips "Nonono..." the future scion of their family, sat locked into his own paralyzed form until the playback ran out (after discovering the fast-forward button, they were able to skip ahead to the end), a full twenty-four hours later. - Meanwhile, the door to the 'chapel' opened, revealing a bizarre corridor beyond cast entirely in white enamel. Something bizarre stepped into the room with Daybreak, something that didn't seem to look at him at first - it was a humanoid figure, but blurry and translucent, all in black and white like a very old photograph. It said something in a language Daybreak couldn't speak, then raised a metal object and began scanning the room with it, first one side, and then the other. Within seconds, it was going to notice he was there! He did notice one familiar thing about the flickering phantom - there was no mistaking that black fedora...

Harrier goes on 19 The Collective goes on 18 The Psycho-Collective goes on 3 Terrifica: 34 Harrier: 19 Collective: 18 Somnium: 15 Stronghold: 11 Psycho-Collective: 3 Terrifica is up!

June 1981, Capetown, South Africa. The year struck Will like a slap of cold water across the face. In the fall of 1981, about four months from 'now', Clock Queen and Tempus Fugit are due to be busted by Evening, the Eye of Justice, and about fifty Freedom City cops. Clock Queen will go away for twenty years, hard time she did because of the testimony that got her son sentenced as a juvenile rather than an adult. Tempus Fugit, just barely still seventeen at the time of his arrest, will go to jail for three years. When he comes out, he'll hook up with a psychic from a bad family and they'll start calling themselves Fast-Forward and Hologram. The date, come to think of it, reminded him of something too.

The New Crime League In a restored castle near Samobar, Croatia, on a hill a few miles outside the city, Basil Fatherton is the cunning conductor of a symphony of crime that stretches across the globe. With >August Roman too old (having now passed his hundredth year) and >Sebastian Stratos still too erratic after the time he spent on the Curator's Ringworld, and all the other veterans too old, too mad, or too uninterested in the position, Fatherton made his move and after decades of membership, finally gained the power and prestige he has always dreamed - he has become the Conductor of Crime! In the old days, which he still thinks about wistfully, this might have ended with him marching on Freedom City during some rap band's concert inside a giant robot so he could beat some real music into those miserable punks and show their fans what real art and real culture are all about - but as much as he hates to admit it, Fatherton is getting old, and those struggles are frankly behind him. He hasn't aged much since that wish he made to an infamous stranger over seventy years ago "to be as eternal and unforgettable as my music!"; but he feels the weight of years and dreams of conquest and the crushing of his enemies are dreams of younger men. Instead, like the skilled conductor he is (and indeed Basil Fatherton would be remembered today as one of the world's greatest conductors if he had never turned to crime - like his hero Toscanni his performances were remembered for their 'legendary precision and drive, thrilling at their best, and remarkable for their tight-reined technical control.'), Fatherton has become an arranger, a planner, a go-between, but rarely one who goes out into the limelight. He has been in the business since the Second World War, longer than almost anyone still cognizant, after all, and he has friends and allies almost everywhere (and where he doesn't, there are plenty of League members with "proletarian friends", as he puts it). The League's grasp is wide, and its fingers sink deep. The Crime League might not be behind a particular caper, but they might have introduced the criminals to each other, or provided a specialist, or accepted a fee for a crime committed on a League member's territory. Internally, the League's membership looks more than a little like the union bylaws of the American Guild of Musical Artists (Basil Fatherton still has his membership card for the old Freedom City local). All members pay a fee every year for their membership; a fee that goes to pay for their lawyers (through cut-outs), for medical care if they get hurt on the job, and to their families if they're killed in action. Acutely aware of the problems of the villains of his generation, Basil has set up an old-age pension program for veterans of "the trade" and something to pay for the education, upkeep, and care of children, especially of single villains. Members are expected to help each other out in a crisis, whether it's providing an alibi or assisting with a breakout. Fatherton will be glad to assist a villain fight a heroic nemesis of theirs, and will even send out a veteran villain or two to give advice to promising new people. The League does not generally condone murder (Fatherton has artistic objections to the act); but League members like Orion are welcome to sign assasination contracts on their own time - Fatherton is not one to tell a fellow artist how to do their work. (Contemporary musicians, with their whorish clothing and atonal music, are obviously an exception). Acutely aware of just how many times he's been beaten in recent years by men and women young enough to be his great-grandchildren (and oh yes, he has plans for them), the Maestro has over the last year or so changed the way he deals with young people. Rather than the stern condemner of youth, he has begun working with a hand-picking group of promising criminal youth to build a new generation of supervillain. He is their mentor, their friend, opening their eyes and minds to culture, art, music, and the craft of supervillainy. They aren't simply lawbreakers or hooligans; they are the human mind, the sheer power of human creativity, unbound by law, order, and justice. The New Crime League represent the future of humanity. If caught in his headquarters by superheroes (an unlikely proposition), the Maestro will remind his would-be antagonists that Croatia has no extradition treaty with the United States and that he is a legal resident of the nation - if they press him, he will summon aid first from a handpicked group of his allies (who will arrive and depart via stealthy teleportation) and then the local constabulary. To defuse a confrontation, he will point out that his home, the refurbished Samobar castle, was rebuilt recently using the tax dollars of the citizens of Zagreb and that "there is no Dr. Metropolis here" - on the same note, the musical treasures that fill the castle, ranging from three Stradivari to symphonies written, but never performed, by the likes of Lizst and Brahms, are all geniune, and all very fragile. He is old, and cagey, and very careful.

Not for the first time in his life, Daybreak found himself in a dark, dank room that smelled like mildew and decay. But luckily this was an environment with which he was generally comfortable, at least until he looked closely at what he was sharing the room with. This looked something like a Gothic chapel, which made it like nothing he recognized from his own Midnight Manor. Particularly once he looked at the 'pews' and realized exactly what he was looking at - row after row of coffins! Oh, not all coffins; there were urns scattered about as well, but for the most part this room was a macabre chapel where the dead stood in for the worshipers, albeit with nothing actually on the altar where the holy symbols should have been. Looking closely at the mortuary receptacles, he could see where two were missing - one on each side of the aisle, closest to the front. Next to one of those vacant spots, on the left, was an all-too-familiar humble pine box that looked very much like that one that held the mortal remains of his timeline's Travis Hunter. The nearest name he could make out, on a lovely porcelain urn, bore a brass plate with the names of someone named "Jean Martel Hunter-White" with dates (covering more than 110 years) in the 24th and 25th centuries. Just as he read that date, he realized he could hear voices from outside the chapel door...

Hematite - Underneath one of the manuscripts, Hematite can make out a marking on the desk - a black circle with a black triangle inside it. Knightfall has a flash of intuition - those flashing atheist symbols are medical distress signals, the equivalent of a Red Cross sign - overall what she's seen reminds her of walking into a house with a sick or dead man and finding a holographic Red Cross or "call emergency" symbol projected over his head.

Give me a Notice check, kids!

The pathway led the heroes down a blank hallway, save the lights on the floor and the glowing symbols on the walls, to an oddly affecting scene, at least at first glance. In a room that looked like a completely enameled version of their father's study, a desiccated corpse sat in what had once been Travis's, and then Trevor's, chair. The dead body, completely nude, had once been male, with black hair streaming down its leathery back and a rictus grin on a face that had tilted backwards to stare at the ceiling. From the dark color of the flesh that remained, even down to the bones, it wasn't hard to guess this was someone who had once had midnight mist in his veins. Spread out before him, looking as out of place as his all-too-human corpse in the futuristic room, were a wide variety of leather-bound books, each spread open wide to show scenes of shadowy darkness and bloody rites, engraved with symbols neither of them could necessarily read but that certainly looked fantastical. All around the corpse, the red symbols were flashing on and off in an urgent pattern; cascading from the door to the dead body, they were obviously designed to get the viewer's attention. As usual there were no windows in this room and only the one egress, and no sign of furniture that wasn't covered entirely in that eerie white enamel coating of nanotech.

Initiative time, campers!

Suddenly, from the same tunnel that the heroes had come from, another horde of cockroaches came pouring out in a scuttling display of writhing filth! These cockroaches spoke too, in a hissing voice of a million beating wings that was like something from an Old Testament plague; one that was altogether different from the voice of the Psycho-Collective. "There you are! Consorting with the humanoids, as we might have known! You are a disgrace and a traitor to the colony, you gaggle of undersized mutants!" "No, no!" said the Collective, that psychic illusion suddenly shifting into that of one big cockroach. "I'm a fierce conqueror! I was just impressing on them how fierce I am! I am going to conquer the surface for us, you'll see!" "LIES! Your doom comes now!" And as the forces of the Collective swarmed its smaller psionic cousin, the Psycho-Collective suddenly turned its mental projection on the heroes and yelled "Help usss!"

In re: The Still Ones I think that if you do this, you should make them explicitly magical rather than scientific so that they're not stepping on the Terminus in-setting. It is true that there are no other super-science empires rampaging across the multiverse; that's because the armies of the Terminus have corrupted their champions, burned their cities, and sacrificed their future in the name of entropy, omnipresent and terrible, the very cosmic darkness that will one day snuff out you, readers! Some fanatics jumping back and forth on the Cosmic Coil, though, that's a different problem.