Avenger Assembled

Edge: Argonauts Citizen: War-Torn October Nights Mile Last World War Harrier: Comrade Frost: Home Again Chimply Awful GMing: Schoolhouse Vandals Briefing Cheesetopia Moloch's Champions Put all excess points to Edge.

I have no objection to anything here. This is a solidly built veteran hero. APPROVED

That'll be enough for Wander and Jill to see through that, yeah. If BJ has a Rep table, feel free to roll on it where you can.

The ancient robot stared back impassively, the single glowing red eye betraying no secrets. She was just about to leave it to its rest when there came a particularly loud crack of thunder from overhead, and a flash of lightning produced by no artificial storm. Looking up, she and Cobalt Templar saw two flying figures in the air: one powersuit in red and gold that looked vaguely like one of Daedalus's models from a decade earlier, and a woman in a skimpy costume of black and red, her cape fluttering in the air behind her. She didn't look bothered by the cold weather, far from it. "You, down there!" she called down to the heroes. "We've come for the robot! Surrender now, and my colleague and I won't be forced to slake our thirst for battle with your lives!" she added with a truly wicked laugh. "Or perhaps you'd like to see what the full power of a storm can do to you AND this entire neighborhood!"

"We haven't been introduced," said Stone dryly. "but when she's not a two-meter Nazi killbot, that sounds about right." She looked back at the base, then at Kimber, and said, "Listen, if you're one of Dan Storm's, I'm not going to ask questions. That man is like a father to me, twice over, and if he put you here, it was for a good reason. Especially if you've got another one of...him," she added, waving to Sharl. Operational security, right?" She looked back at her people, who had cleared out the truck and armed themselves. "We'll keep with our original plan; steal a transport in Branson," she put particular stress on the word, "and head back to the Rockies ourselves. If we can tell Central that this base has been hit, it'll be a good day for every free city on the continent." "...all right," said Sharl with a glance at Kimber. Sharl was no fool; he sensed the Canadians were all deeply uncomfortable around him, with only Kimber's word having kept this from turning into a violent confrontation. Maybe she could get more out of them than he could. "We're going to be getting the machine ghosts, the Tronikians, off this planet, so you won't have to worry about them either way. I'll go get the team ready." He disappeared as he headed back into the bus. When Sharl had gone, Rebecca gave Kimber a serious look. "Kid, I like you, but you'd better watch your back in there. That's one of the biggest Nazi bases in the continent and the only reason we're not down there right now is that I'm not putting my team up against rogue robots, aliens or not. If you think you can trust your guy, that's fine. Just keep your eyes open down there. We'll be watching your back."

Rebecca swore in English, then in French, then in a language Sharl didn't recognize. "...listen, you have good taste in faces, kid, but Mackenzie King's been dead since that bastard Arcand took over sixty years ago. Are you one of Storm's people?" she asked uncertainly, her gaze flicking from Sharl to the late Prime Minister as she took a step back. "And that doesn't explain what you're doing here with one of those vacuum tube ghosts. I thought you people were back in that base testing out your new bodies." At the bafflement on Sharl's face, Rebecca took a chance and went on. "They hit us crossing the border. I thought we were headed for the ditch for sure, but instead they carted us down here to be lab rats. Something about testing a new Nazi death machine." She smiled thinly. "Turns out they didn't make their machines as well as they thought. When the killing started, we busted out and holed up their motor pool, then we made a break for it when things got quiet." "...the killing?" asked Sharl, somewhere south of appalled as he began to make conjectures come together. If the Tronikians had struck _first_ rather than waiting for their rescue, what might have happened in that base? "The Nazis were putting these...well, YOU, in those machines," Rebecca said, waving her free hand at Sharl for a moment. "Machine ghosts, I don't know, I'm not a scientist. But the ghosts got out of control in their new bodies and they started...well, I'm not going to say I don't like seeing Ratzis get what's coming to them, but I don't think they were on our side either. Let's just say if I ever build a killbot, I'm putting a safety on the guns. The last I saw, their leader and her right-hand man were breaking into the Nazi weapons vault underneath the base. That right-hand man being _you_, boy," she added with a significant look at Sharl.

"The 'bus is fine," said Sharl, clearing out so Koshiro could get access to the controls and so Mali could handle the wheel. "You can get us back on the road easily enough, but those people out there are probably going to notice the tracks, not to mention maybe run into us on the way out again. We can't let them draw any more attention to us, not if things are already happening at the base. Stupid groundcar, stupid miserable world..." He peered through the storm and said uncertainly to the others, "Well, I don't think they're National Socialists, actually. It sounds like they're yelling in English, maybe French? And those aren't the right uniforms." He didn't speak that particular national language, but he'd heard it often enough from Eve when she was mad. And the dark fatigues on the people outside, spilling out of the truck, didn't match what he'd seen for National Socialist uniforms at all. He joined Kimber at the door, gave her a nervous grin and thumbs up, and hit the door release. He and Ghost Girl stepped out into the cold, wet night, the rain having died down to a light drizzle. They immediately got the attention of the people spilling out of the truck, as would anyone who appeared out of a bright yellow door of light in the middle of the night air. Guns were leveled their way, but no shots fired, as the door closed behind them. The dozen or so people in, and now out of the truck, were a ragtag looking group of humans: their clothes, no, uniforms were in tatters, their bodies thin, but there was a pride that burned in their eyes all the same. They'd had it rough, but they weren't just another group of refugees either. After a moment, a muscular woman of indeterminate years stepped out of the small group, her team behind her unloading from the truck even as she spoke. "All right, kids. Start talking." "Sorry about your truck," said Sharl apologetically. "That was our bad. Well, my bad. I'm Sharl. Who are you?" hazarded Sharl. "How did you get here?" "Not what I had in mind," she said with a sharp look. "I'm Rebecca Stone, True North," she said, evidently expecting at least the latter to mean something. What, the Canadian super-team? thought Sharl. "And we..." she took a close look at Sharl and her eyes widened with recognition. "You! It's one of them!" And suddenly the guns were coming up again...

Fungal Controller PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 24 pp STR 14 (+2) DEX 14 (+2) CON 14 (+2) INT 14 (+2) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+10 Fungal Mastery) DEF: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +6 Grapple: +8 Saves: 17 pp TOU +10 (+2 Con, +8 Protection) FORT +10 (+2 Con, +8) REF +5 (+2 Dex, +3) WILL +8 (+2 Wis, +6) Skills: 15 pp=60 r Climb 8 (+10)* Craft (Chemical) 8 (+10) Diplomacy 8 (+10) Knowledge (Life Sciences) 8 (+10)* Language 1 (Portuguese, Base: English) Medicine 8 (+10) Notice 8 (+10)* Sense Motive 8 (+10) Survival 3 (+5)* Feats: 10 pp Dodge Focus 4 Improved Initiative Luck Quick Change Second Chance (Diplomacy checks) Skill Mastery (Climb, Knowledge [Life Sciences], Notice, Survival) Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 60 pp Feature 1 (Can Make Fungi) [1 PP] Fungal Array 16 (32 pp, PFs: Accurate 2, Alternate Powers 4) [38 PP] BE: Blast 10 (Extra: Alternate Save [Fortitude], PFs: Indirect 2) AP: Confuse 10 (Extra: Duration [sustained], PFs: Indirect 2) AP: Corrosion 10 (PFs: Improved Crit 2) AP: Healing 10 (Extra: Restorative, PFs: Persistent, Stabilize) AP: Nauseate 10 (Extra: Ranged, PFs: Indirect 2) Fungal Senses Array 3 (6 pp, PF: Alternate Power 1) [7 PP] Super-Senses 6 (Fungal Awareness [mental, Enhancements: Acute, Analytical, Radius, Ranged]) [6+1=7 PP] AP: Super-Senses 6 (Detect Fungus [mental, Enhancements: Acute, Analytical, Radius, Ranged) Immunity 6 (disease, poison, sleep, starvation and thirst, suffocation) [6 PP] Protection 8 [8 PP] cost abilities 24 + combat 24 + saves 17 + skills 15/60 + feats 10 + powers 60 = 150 pts ------------------------- Design Notes: Here's my build for a fungus controller, a hero with mastery over an entire kingdom! One of the humbler ones, sure, but that's no biggie. He can blast people with fungal toxins, drive minions crazy with ergot, help wounds heal with super-penicillin and fast-knitting fungal growth, and work other powerful effects. He can even corrode robots and undead with fungal attacks that corrode metal and speed the decay of dead flesh. (Sure, imagining a fast-acting fungal poison that he can summon and dismiss at will is a bit of a stretch, but no weirder than throwing fireballs around that don't kill someone) He's not really a fungus himself, but he has the constitution of one of the harder varieties thereof. The strengthened cell walls of a fungus, laden with chitin, helps account for his Protection. He can make any fungus you like and analyze any fungus you put in his hand, given his natural bond with perhaps the most humble (or at least the weirdest) of the classical biological kingdoms. Real super-brains are much better in their chosen speciality than he is, but OTOH most of them probably are not fungal specialists. He could easily be a college professor with these stats; real world smarts, not comic book ones. He could have any background you want: mycologist, chef, mushroom gardener, or a variety of other things. (If the latter, maybe cultivate some darkvision for him so he can see to get around in his laboratory without having to turn on the lights). In my imagined backstory, this guy traveled the world (and particularly the jungles of the Amazon) looking for exotic fungi for either scientific or culinary purposes before coming across one particular growth that left him much changed! The picture is of Elias J. Durand, one of the founders of modern mycology. Fungi tend to be plant and insect parasites, so this guy's background means he could be an agricultural scientist who's helping save a lot of lives when he's not in costume. (Does he grow his costume out of fungus? Maybe!) The guy with humble, but profoundly impressive powers is a pretty good niche to have in comics, perhaps best exemplified by our own Gaian Knight. He could use a movement power and more combat feats, but that's probably something to cultivate with time. He may just be an athlete's foot controller, but if you've ever watched that particular X-Files episode you know that's all you need.

"This is Harrier," came a voice over the shared commlink that Blue Jay and Bee-Keeper didn't know; a sepulchral voice of steel and death. So that was what an Omegadrone sounded like when it spoke. "I am here, Wander." Inside his suit, Harrier wondered if Erin's transmission had been garbled as it reached the other commlinks. Ah well, perhaps the shock of the moment had thrown the others off. Automatically he reported in as much as he could, trying to share the tactical situation with his HAX colleague. "I am currently bound by some sort of adhesive, but am burning it away. The others are a man in a black and gold suit of armor, and an archer who I could not see before she struck me. Can you hear the sound of my pike?"

They all wound up with separate appointments with Dr. Marquez over subsequent days, the school's shrink interested in helping everyone with the aftereffects of the attack on Kat's room. Kat, Kristen, and even Elias all won praise from their respective RAs about being there for their friend when she needed help, even though Elias did wind up with that extra telepathic ethics detail with Vrix Dopple after all. Spending Saturday nights with a hard-nosed drill instructor wasn't too different than growing up in Young Freedom, come to think of it! As for Dorothy, the teachers and staff had no comment on that until the morning when Dorothy's pale-faced, apologetic parents arrived to clean out her room. Dorothy Langford had been expelled from Claremont Academy for her attack on another student's personal space. Next year, on good behavior, she'd have the chance to come back. "I'm so sorry," said Sam Langford, an older, scholarly-looking man in a red sweater and slacks who looked like he belonged in front of a class himself. "This isn't like our daughter at all."

"From time to time, I have encountered your people, yes." said Comrade Frost, dealing with the alien's ministrations with a jocular grace. "Others dealt with you and yours far more intimately. My primary focus was on supernatural rather than superscientific." In thinking about it, Dimitri was fairly sure he'd never killed, nor giving any lasting cause to hate, any of the space-going humanoids. It was sad that was his primary worry when dealing with peoples these days, but his life was what it was and there was no point in dwelling on the grim times. "I tended to deal more with personifications of Behenian stars walking Earth with murder on their mind rather than peoples of those stars themselves."

1. I'll say yes, just to speed things along at this stage. 2. Correct.

The glue erupted over Harrier's faceplate and body, instantly freezing him in place. He couldn't even retract his armor plating in this position, not when he was so thoroughly encased that he'd have thoroughly suffocated himself if he'd tried. This was by no means the first time he'd been encased in glue, and for a sudden moment the drone remembered other places, other times, those who'd fought with mercy and pacificity against the forces of the Terminus. Some even until the end. Those memories were enough to freeze him in place for a long second, until Bee-Keeper and Blue Jay were both undercover. When he'd pushed aside the ghosts of the past, with implacable calm Harrier fired his pike: he couldn't aim it, but outside those watching could see its terrible effect. A burst of black energy erupted from the business end, setting the glue coating the drone's body aflame with a black, smoldering fire that slowly, slowly began burning away the glue that encased him. He was going to get free. It was only a matter of time.

The game ended with a last-minute field goal for the home team breaking a long-standing tie, giving the kicker a moment of glory as the Freedom City crowd went wild. Quo-Dis had grown quiet as the game ended, clinging to Corbin's arm as the show ran down, but cheered lustily when the game ended. "Well-met, and well-matched," she said when she was done, putting her arms affectionately around Corbin's shoulders. "You know, I originally thought this was a pointless waste," she confessed about the game with a nod, "but I think it is a fine thing this society has learned to channel its aggression into pursuits more productive than simple warfare. A healthy competition that ends in celebration, not slaughter, really is the best thing for this culture. Does anyone need a snack?" she offered.

"Be thankful I did no worse. Now, kick your weapons over here." When the chilly apes had complied, Comrade Frost slowly redonned his glove, the ice on his skin gradually fading away as he restrained his body's innate thermovoric powers. "Now. Tell me how it is the transformation brought about by your gun can be undone." he said, slowly circling the chilly group as Jubatus conducted his search. "Are you victims of its power yourself? Or has Comrade Dr. Simian turned to gangsters and wreckers as his allies?" he asked, his voice as cold as winter winds. He'd encountered a lot of apes in his time, and knew you had to be cruel to be kind, especially if you didn't know their motivations. "A chilling thought, eh?"

Doo doo doo.

"That's a lot of things," said Sharl cautiously, as he looked back at Koshiro. "I don't know how much their culture has changed with all the years the National Socialists have been bossing them around, either. I can probably recognize the other me, maybe whoever we've been talking to, but that's about it. I can ask them something about Tronik or the old homeworld that no one else here would be likely to know...but that's assuming they haven't been interrogated by the locals, and I don't think that's a safe-" Two things happened then: first, the base finally swung into view down the road; the squat bunkers buzzing with activity and moving figures, lights flickering on and off erratically in the dark, and the sound of industrial activity. And that was also when the Kubelwagen slammed head-on into the Wonderbus, the German military truck having come around a curve fast, splashing mud everywhere, and slammed full-on into the invisible vehicle. Only the relatively slow speeds imposed by the heavy weather kept the terrestrial vehicle from cracking up, as it was they both went tumbling off the road and hit the nearby mud. Only able to keep his seat because he was projecting directly from the bus''s internal systems, Sharl bounced in his seat, peering out through the mist at the base now half-visible down the road, then at the truck. The figures inside were moving, coming out with guns ready, and they didn't look like robots to him. "Oh, jeez! Everybody okay? I think we've got company outside..."

That hits, sure enough. 15 Harrier failed by five, so he's bound and helpless (though his finger was described as being on the trigger of his weapon earlier; we'll see how that plays out if things go further!) 17 He fails the Dazzle save too, so for the moment he is bound, helpless, and blind. I'll wait to see if we go further before I start initiativing and stuff. :D

Harrier batted away the attack from the black and yellow armored warrior, wincing as he felt the shock of the blow rebound up his pike and into his armored flesh. Power there; great power. This was no Omegadrone, but he was clearly a mighty opponent. His pike discharged with a scream of energy, blasting a crater into a Well, if he wants a battle, I will give him one!He swung the pike around, its sizzling black tip carving a gash in the ground between his position and his apian opponent. And then he did something Baxter had never heard of an Omegadrone doing. He spoke. "If you want me, come and claim me, mad one!" he hissed in a sepulchral voice of steel and stone, beckoning to him with his free hand as he brought up the pike, its energized tip sizzling like the fires of Hell itself. Blue Jay turned a corner amid the shattered buildings of downtown Freedom City and came across the crash site, where she was confronted with the all-too-familiar sight of an Omegadrone in combat with a superhero. She knew that model of Omegadrone well enough: not one of the great hordes made when cities and bases were swept dry by their brethern, but the heavy combat units that the Terminus deployed against the most powerful soldiers of the Resistance. This was the kind of drone that could kill a base, a town, all on its own; this was the kind of drone that killed Furions. As she watched, it sliced the ground in front of her friend the Bee-Keeper and made a beckoning gesture, the crackling flames of the burning transport too loud for her to hear anything else. Jill and Wander both heard the power pike blast a few blocks away; Jill had seen Harrier demonstrate his weapon at HAX and Wander knew that sound only too well. This was singular, though, not the mass hymn of destruction with which she was personally familiar. Kicking open the door of the shattered clinic, Jill found herself confronted with the grim pile of bones and bits of flesh that suggested where the patients had gone, and the familiar sight of Wander heading in the other direction. Turning at the sound of the door, Wander saw one familiar sight not twisted into horror by this place: Jill O'Cure, the snarky surgeon herself!

Swing and a miss!

OOC thread

Unable to see Kimber's visions, but savvy enough to have some idea what they were doing, Sharl was already back inside the Wonderbus when it was finished. "Come on, guys, get in out of that!" he called. "We can talk in here!" As soon as everyone was inside, he flipped the vehicle's stealth mode back on and began the slow, ponderous drive towards the base. "I don't know what you guys saw, but I don't think we should wait much longer," said the slightly translucent holographic teen.

Elsewhere Test Site I Freedom Hall Blue Jay woke up in a ditch, the smell of ashes in her mouth. She was in her costume and fully armed, the quiver at her back weighted with arrows. Raising her head, she found herself surrounded by a vision from Hell: a bombed out Freedom City laden with debris, ashes, and the broken remains of what once might have been bodies. She'd seen the effects of power pikes well enough to recognize their work. And there, screaming down from the sky like the armies of the damned, came the all-too-familiar sight of an Omegadrone troop carrier, big as a small jet liner but covered in the spikes and weapons she knew all too well. It roared overhead, antiproton engines screaming loud enough to nearly deafen her, and headed for what looked like Freedom Hall. Baxter awoke from a dream, and found himself in Hell. Bee-Keeper III felt the vibrations in his suit before he saw the ship come roaring down out of the sky; a monstrous vision of technological hell as it swooped overhead and plowed into a nearby street hard enough to rattle his teeth, careening along a street to plow into a nearby building. He noticed the apocalyptic surroundings next; the ruined Freedom Hall behind him, the smashed windows and fallen bodies of what looked like the aftermath of a grim and terrible battle here at the heart of Freedom City's heroing, and then finally what looked for all the world like a shattered city all around them. Jill O'Cure's eyes snapped open and she found herself in an empty hospital. She could tell that right away; the red, flickering emergency lights exposed a scene of wild chaos, torn and fallen beds and equipment in a mad jumble, but no sign of life, or death, for that matter. She knew this place, the waiting room of the clinic in City Center just down the street from Freedom Hall. She was in costume, not her scrubs, but before she could take further stock of the situation there was the brief scream of mighty engines and then a nearby BOOM, as if a plane had hit the ground just a few blocks away. Bones. Bones bones bones. Wander had seen plenty of those in her life, but the pile she was standing over was impressive. Smashed and broken, they were scattered over the front steps of the City Center Clinic like a child's much-abused toys. She could make out the familiar sight of skulls and other big bones, but these bones hadn't rested easy: something had disturbed the remains, if they'd come here first inside bodies. The ossurary at her feet was new; the burning city all around her wasn't. Suddenly, the familiar sight of an Omegadrone troop carrier roared overhead and disappeared over the nearest high-rise with a BOOM that shook the ground beneath her feet. When Harrier awoke, strapped into the recharging station of a heavy combat Omegadrone, Steve found himself frozen to the spot in the mortal terror of an awakened nightmare. He wasn't conscious of anything about his surroundings, only the sudden, horrible surety that his life was a dream and he was about to be taken away and dissected by the Physician. WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP-the crash interrupted his frenzied mental shouts and tore him loose from the station, sending him bowled end over end against a hard steel wall before he realized the ship had crashed and that he was all alone inside it. Taking a moment to steel himself, and think of Gina, the Omegadrone chose to meet his fate head-on: armored up, he blasted out the nearest hatch and burst forth onto a murdered Freedom City street. It wasn't so strange, really, he'd seen many of those in his time. He distantly saw an armored figure in yellow and black nearby, and moved towards him with pike raised defensively.

"Security protocol detected. America-Tron thanks you for your citizenship, young man and young lady," the giant robot spoke to Cobalt Templar and his companion before settling down onto the street. "Awaiting further instructions." All but one of the red lights faded, one right in the middle of the visor seeming to stare off into space. "Okay, good, that's good," said the scientist, rubbing the now-dried wound on the side of his head, shivering a little against the renewed rain, which had begun pouring down, pounding on the street, robot, and all those who stood beneath it. "He'll be in his inactive state until we can retrieve him, as long as nobody does anything...well, you know, irrational while we're here. It'll be fine. Thank you so much, you've saved a priceless artifact of our nation's giant robot history!"

"Supernatural invasion no longer detected. America-Tron moving to active mode." One of the glowing lights on the robot's visor seemed to fixate directly on Cobalt Templar. "Secondary protocols: Communist invasion. Security protocols active. Interrogative: Who won the 1957 World Series, citizen?" It was not a threatening question, really, nor a friendly one: simply a machine making a mechanical inquiry of a person. "The America-Tron units got a little...jumpy at times," murmured the scientist, who was keeping a discreet distance from the giant robot. "This is the only intact model left! Every vacuum tube and wire is from the original model, preserved in our archives since 1961! It's absolutely priceless, assuming it doesn't try to melt us..."