Avenger Assembled

Meaghan hissed wildly and faced Wander down fearlessly; the nasty society girl Erin and Trevor had dealt with earlier gone beneath the hideous snake monster. There was no thought behind those scaly eyes, just snaky hunger! The snake-Meaghan took the opening Wander's attack had offered and struck out with her fangs, only Wander's fantastic reflexes saving her from a bite as sharp fangs skidded against bulletproof skin, foul-smelling venom hissing its way down Wander's arm. A direct hit from one of those fangs could easily have pierced her skin had it gone in at a slightly different angle! At least the monster was now thoroughly focused on her rather than the screaming civilians all around!

Meaghan goes, attacking Wander. (There's a typo in the roll, since Wander's Defense is actually 18, not 20) 28 That hits Wander. DC 23 Tou save for Wander. Midnight is up.

Sense Motive check vs. DC 27: 29 She is not flat-footed, and so an 18 does not hit her Defense of 22. Go ahead and post IC.

Round 1: Wander: 26 (3 HP) A: 19 Midnight: 18 (4 HP +1 Meaghan) B: 18 C: 14 D: 14 Edge: 13 (7 HP) Nina: 13 Ahmed: 11 E: 10 F: 6

Showered and dressed, Steve left Gina's house with a dry farewell at the speakers in the walls before heading out onto the street for a walk back to his own apartment. There was something very nice about leaving Gina's house in the morning instead of the wee small hours of the night, and not just from all the additional sleep he'd gotten in Gina's very comfortable bed. She does care. She really does care about me. He actually smiled as he walked, albeit briefly, daring to feel good about himself as the shadows of the hell-world he'd left the day before lightened ever-so-slightly. There was meaningful joy in the multiverse after all, even for someone like him. It was a good day.

"Wait, you talk to ghosts?" Edge sounded really impressed. "That's awesome. I mean, I know you had one right there in your house, and I know there's a ghost at Claremont these days, but that's really wild. Creepy too, I guess, but maybe living people seem weird to the dead." He looked down at the mask and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that does look like Malador all right." He scratched his head and added, "Hey, where DID Malador get his mask? I mean I know it's Atlantean and stuff just like he is, but I always figured he made it himself. Was he around back when all this bad stuff happened?"

Custos roared and the swirling mind-insects popped like soap bubbles; the Overriders dropping to the ground like puppets with the strings cut. Roused by the shout, Edge started to sit up on the beach a moment before a swirl of purple and black energy atop a nearby column transformed itself into a bizarre figure: a squat, purple little reptilian man like a minature Gigantosaur or mutant Serpent Person, incongrously wearing what looked like an early-20th century business suit "Greetings!" he called in a voice at once stridently loud and boomingly bass. "And welcome to the Stone Forest!" He gestured somewhere in the direction of the still-invisible group. "I'm Spiegel, your master of ceremonies for today! Do any of you have anything to say before we begin? Remember, today's show will be viewed by uncounted giga-billions across the Hundred Worlds and beyond, so try and be memorable! But brief," he added, checking a watch. "We have a limited amount of time." Down on the sand, the now-conscious Mark didn't so much as blink at the strange set of circumstances. He was sure his friends were there, ready to come to his aid, just like he would be for them if the situation was reversed. "Yes, I want to know something! Why was it necessary to kidnap me?" "Because, my good fellow," said Spiegel, happy to be interlocuted, "our law forbids us from invading your world without an army at our backs. And would any of you have come voluntarily to your own destruction? I think not! Please make sure you don't try to leave," Spiegel added to the others. "The barrier around this area of the planet is quite tough."

Okay, lots of NPCs here: The six serpent mutates have the following stats: http://www.freedomplaybypost.com/viewtopic.php?f=27&t=4109&p=118967&hilit=snake#p118967 initiative A: 19 (Meaghan) B: 18 C: 14 D: 14 E: 10 F: 6 Ahmed who has the following stats: 11: (Before doing so, he makes a Stealth check and gets 19. Welp, once he goes, everyone will be able to see him doing something unsavory) Edge goes on 13 Nina goes on 13 as well! (I'll say Edge goes first; down an HP)

Indeed, it looked like Meaghan and her would-be sweetheart had grown tired of dancing with each other. Scowling, Ahmed wandered off to talk to a small group of Socotran couples while Meaghan herself smoothly recovered to take up a place studying the crowd like the social predator she was. While Mark had danced with Nina before, the sort of wild dancing through the sky that only a hydrokinetic could have pulled off, only a platform of water beneath their feet as the rain fell on them, but this sort of intimate slow dancing was still very pleasant. When her intense dark gaze was locked on his, he could easily forget that he'd ever dated other women. "Do you know anything about that guy?" he asked finally, cocking a head towards Meaghan's would-be sweetheart. "Ahmed al-Kuri," said Nina, wrinkling her pretty nose. "He's handsome enough, but not fit for my company. He has some dull diplomatic post here, not the sort of thing I pay attention to. Not with you around, anyway." They kissed as the song ended, and together made their way to the side of Morakot and Nephthys: the lovely princess had an easy job pulling her elder brother aside, and for her part like most people Nephthys proved amenable enough to Mark's plans. With the royals on the dance floor together, and Mark with his arms around the bride, Daisy Gibbons spun the crowd up into a fast dance laden with the oud and nay, the spinning and twirling the Socotrans employed making them look like the dervishes that had once settled their native island as the music went faster and faster. Nepthys wasn't, in Mark's mind, a terribly good dancer, but she was enthusiastic; even if the fast-paced music meant there was no time for conversation beyond just complimenting each other's technique. As for Nina and Morakot, the royals put on a show for their subjects, spinning high on platforms of wine as only hydrokinetics could, Nina twirling impossibly fast in her brother's hands. Family drama or not, evidently their lives didn't lack for good moments When the music stopped, everyone on the dance floor was sweating a little, and at Daisy's initiative they applauded the slightly-breathless musicians. Until the screaming started. "Aiee! Aiee!" came terrible cries from the crowd as some among them begean to change: a half-dozen civilians in the crowd ranging from security guards to embassy staff to guests began to warp, skin stretching and freezing into scales, eyes bulging with nicitating membranes, fingers growing into claws and faces lengthening and sharpening into terrible fanged maws: Serpent Men! Erin and Trevor, from their position, had plenty of time to see a serpentine Meaghan, the most familiar transformed of the crowd, rip her way half out of her dress, venom dripping from razor-like fangs, before she and her five new best friends, scattered all across the dance floor, hissed and leaped at the screaming bystanders!

He can attempt to do so, yes.

"I have the day off," replied Steve. "Mara felt it was appropriate to give myself and Erin White time to ourselves after yesterday." Of course, that left open the question of what exactly they'd do for the rest of the day. He doubted Gina, who no doubt had to work, would be interested in spending the day watching movies on the couch with him. "...But I am sure you have things you need to do." He rose and carried their dishes to the sink with a busboy's instincts, but let Emerson load them as he headed for the shower himself: that was one room he knew well enough. "Shall we meet tomorrow and visit the FLSCH?" he called to her as he went, knowing sensors in the house would catch every word.

19

"Fierce warriors," replied Redbird: there was no admiration in her voice, just a statement of fact. "And deadly killers. Annihilists don't work together easily. Those six have been allies for an age. Nightmare Doom is their mystic; Hellstorm their weather controller, Omnibeast their hunter, Discordia their killer, Razorwhip their warrior, and Blood Diamond is their leader." She gave the heroes of Young Freedom, past and present, the best rundown she could of the powers and abilities of the Hounds. "Hounds are the Madrigal Martinet's eye and fist. If they are here, and if they have moved against the Dethroners, it is by her will." Meanwhile, down on the island, the mind-controlled Overriders could be seen working on Hard Mama's bike: the unconscious form of Mark Lucas, mercifully free of those swirling, mind-controlling insects, was laid out on the sandy beach in between the pillars. Though he was evidently at their mercy, none had made a move to molest him. Yet. Indeed, by all appearances, they hadn't so much as noticed the arrival of the concealed heroes, even when Max had suffered his ungraceful fall. "

"The leader, Samson Powers, and his associate Kurt Stahl, were a geologist and metallurgist respectively on their own worlds. While the local technology seemed a few decades behind Earth-Prime, it was comparable enough that they and some others could work alongside Dragonfly to build the dimensional teleporter that helped rescue the others." He thought back to that meeting. "I believe Dragonfly has already hired the only agent she intends to secure." It was a little strange to think of himself as a man between two so very different geniuses, but after all he had his own sort of relationship with both Dragonfly and Gina Evans. "They are aware of my nature, but none have seen me in armor." For obvious reasons. "It would be best if Caradoc and Miss Americana pay that visit together. But you should eat first," he encouraged her, having cleaned his own plate. "A healthy breakfast is a good start to the day," he said, obviously quoting his life skills classes.

Mayan Infernalist 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 Xibalba Array) DEF: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +2 Grapple: +8/+20 w/Xic-Patan Saves: 18 pp TOU +10 (+2 Con, +8 Protection) FORT +8 (+2 Con, +6) REF +8 (+2 Dex, +6) WILL +8 (+2 Wis, +6) Skills: 16 pp=64 r Diplomacy 3 (+5) Intimidate 13 (+15, Skill Mastery) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 13 (+15, Skill Mastery) Knowledge (History) 8 (+10) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 8 (+10) Languages 2 (English, Yucatec Maya, Base: Russian) Notice 8 (+10, Skill Mastery) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Feats: 11 pp Challenge (Fast Startle) Dodge Focus 4 Fearless Power Attack Ritualist Skill Mastery (Intimidate, Knowledge (Arcane Lore), Knowledge (History), Notice) Startle Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 57 pp Flight 2 (25 MPH, 250 fpma) 'wings of Camatotz' [4 pp] Immunity 1 (aging) [1 pp] Immunity 2 (environmental cold/heat) (Flaw: Limited [Half-Effect]) [1 pp] Protection 8 [8 pp] Super-Senses 5 (Darkvision, Magic Awareness 3 [visual]) [5 pp] Xibalba Array 16 (32 pp, PFs: Accurate 2, Alternate Powers 4) [38 pp] BE: Blast 10 (Extra: Fortitude, PFs: Improved Crit 2) 'Xiquiripat-Cuchumaquic' AP: Concealment 10 (all senses) (Flaw: Phantasm) and Strike 8 (Extra: Penetrating 8 [as DMG 18], PFs: Affects Insubstantial 2, Mighty, Takedown Attack) 'Ahalmez-Ahaltocob' AP: Corrosion 10 (PFs: Improved Crit 2) 'Chamiabac-Chamiaholom' AP: Move Object 10 (Heavy Load: 12 tons) (Extra: Damaging, PFs: Split Attack, Subtle) 'Xic-Patan' AP: Nauseate 10 (Extra: Ranged, PFs: Longer-Lasting 2 [10 rounds]) 'Ahalpuh-Ahalgana' cost abilities 24 + combat 24 + saves 18 + skills 16/64 + feats 11 + powers 57 = 150 pts -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Design Notes: Yuri Valentinovich Knorozov was one of the greatest epigraphists of the 20th century. Drafted into the Soviet Army in 1943 at the age of 21, the archaeology student turned artillery spotter served with distinction until 1945 when he rescued a collection of long-neglected Mayan lore from a Nazi library, wherein he used the book (a collection put together by eccentric Spanish bishop Diego de Landa in the 16th century) to play a major role in cracking the long-lost secret of the Mayan language. Though his Soviet ancestry meant he was unable to visit Mayan sites until the 1990s (despite having been a leading scholar of the field for forty years), Knorozov's insights into written Mayan were sound and form the basis of our contemporary understanding of Mesoamerican hieroglyphs. Unfortunately for Knorozov, anti-Communist sentiment among the leaders in Mayan epigraphy in the United States kept his work from being accepted here for a generation. Also, he looked like a damn James Bond villain. So, what if our self-taught student of Mayan epigraphy above had in fact learned something far darker than the mere Mayan language: what if that book of lost Mayan lore kept hidden by the Nazis had in fact contained the secrets of Mayan sorcery! Xibalba, the Mayan underworld, was an awful place dominated by terrible demons, the mastery of whose power would give a man formidable and terrifying abilities: This courtly European fellow makes a fine surprise for people expecting a Mayan sorcerer to look Native American, and gives a Soviet superteam a surprising magical edge. Perhaps he has secretly warred against the dark gods of the Mayan underwold for decades now, carrying on a lonely struggle where he has only recently begun to recognize that he has allies. He has survived the Six Houses of Pain and has learned to master the power of their terrible creators! Break with stereotypes; not everyone who uses Native American magic has to be a Magical Native American. He also makes a fine acolyte of the terrible death lords of Xibalba, planning to summon his dark masters to Earth with dire consequences!

"" said the dragon peevishly, his breath smoking flame as he peered suspiciously at the metal walls. "" Scanning more closely, Dr. Archeville was able to make some speculations as what had happened to that world when he found the holographic projection units lodged in the walls. "" said Mark, distracting the dragon smoothly before he could get angry again, perhaps by blaming the others for the mysterious loss of his world, "" "" said Nina, reaching down to squeeze Mark's hand for a moment. " "

Steve gave that one some serious thought, staring blankly past Gina's head as he did so. He'd long since learned that she didn't appreciate it when he focused his gaze on her like that. "An appearance by Miss Americana at FLSCH would be appreciated by many. Though she is not the one who saved them, Miss Americana is the sort of person to make a transition to a new life easier. And since I live there, I can invite you, er, her over without any worries." He coughed and sipped his coffee, trying to cover for his brief slip. "I would not worry about Dragonfly. Though I have mentioned that I am in a relationship to my friends, they would not make any assumptions about you. And if anyone asks, I can truthfully say that Miss Americana and I are only colleagues." Steve would have blushed, if he'd had the ability to do so.

"I can take all four of us," replied Edge after a moment's consideration. He didn't worry about going in blind, but he did give it a moment's consideration. If Fafnir was teleported in from there, surely he can fit in there, especially if we're going right onto the transport pad. Nina was amenable to being transported as well, and took Edge's hand as he spoke to the dragon. "" The so-melodramatic words were enough to sway the dragon, and Fafnir crowded close as in a shimmer of mystic energy they were all elsewhere. The world had seemed to fall apart at Edge's command, or perhaps he and his passengers had, and it took a few moments for them to reacquaint themselves with their bodies as they took stock of where they were. They were in a silver-walled room that was clearly the product of advanced super-science, coils on the walls instantly recognizable to Dr. Archeville as souped-up versions of Freedom League-style teleporter technology. Indeed, their illumination in the room, cast in an electric blue light, came from the still-active coils themselves. This was no dragon's lair, at least, no ordinary dragon. "" said the dragon, sniffing the air suspiciously, "" Massive silver doors along the other side of the room, easily large enough for a dragon to pass through, caught Mark's attention, though he was a little busy recovering from the overly large transport to take advantage of them at first.

The handsome Socotran sneered at Trevor, a look that evidently was cultivated by certain members of the Socotran aristocracy. "She is a beautiful woman, and I am a beautiful man," he hissed with the mix of Indian and Arabian-flavored Received Pronunciation that was the standard Socotran accent. "I can see that you are not familiar with either, Mr. Hunter." That was evidently a little much, or at least enough to get people sitting at the table looking their way. Meaghan laid a firm hand on her partner's and gave him a look that wasn't entirely disapproving, but still communicated a sharp Enough. Only Erin and Trevor, it seemed, had been paying enough attention to see the way the Socotran man had flinched at his words; evidently he'd understood him only too well. -------- "The Black Ring of Set?" For his part, Mark had recognized the ring on the mysterious Nepthys' hand right away, even if he hadn't noticed anything suspicious about the woman herself. He and Nina spoke in sotto voice in their seat at the end of the royal table, Mark distracting Nina from what was evidently a major source of frustration. So far away from her elder brother, who was speaking in sonorous tones about the beauty of his would-be bride, Nina al-Darsah looked ready to leap from her seat and demand answers from Morakot. "Didn't your father take that from Set when they had that falling-out?" "My father won that from Set in fair combat," Nina hissed at him, turning her anger on her boyfriend and incidentally thus _not_ causing an incident. "It was a fair struggle between the old god of sorcery and the new god of science, as you should-" "Be that as it may," whispered Mark, giving Nina a reassuring look, "we need to figure out why your brother would just give away an artifact that's so important to your father. He must think his wife-to-be will be worth Typhoon's anger." He reached over and squeezed Nina's hand. "You try and get a dance with your brother so the two of you can talk in private. I'll do the same for the bride." "...well, all right," said Nina reluctantly, relaxing a little now that Mark had changed the subject. "But she'd better not fall in love with you. I know how it is with you and I would hate to have to drown her." She winked at Mark, and they both returned their attention to the stage as the prince took his seat and Daisy Gibbons took his place. "Ancient Socotran custom puts eating at the end of a great social occasion rather than the middle, the better that the work of the cooks may be truly enjoyed by all." She winked at the crowd and added, "So, would all you couples out there please take your place on the dance floor so that we may begin? The prince has asked me to begin with his favorite love song..." As it turned out, as Nina and Mark among others went out on the ironwood dance floor, it turned out his favorite was Unchained Melody.

You don't have to roll, Roo; the minute Changeling uses her powers against the force field, it shuts down. Her Notice and Arcane Lore are high enough for this to make her suspicious; this was less like bringing down someone's spell and more like they flipped the switch off at her approach.

"I generally rise with the dawn, even when I have been up late the night before." His mouth worked in a faint smile as he sat down next to Gina to eat his share of their breakfast. He was careful to sit next to her rather than across from her; they were close that way, but could talk without him staring at her or her doing her best to avoid his eyes. Steve didn't need to shave or comb his hair, and indeed looked nearly as fresh as when the evening had begun. "Truthfully," he confessed, "I suppose even after all these years of living on Earth, a sun in the sky is alien enough to wake me." He balled his hand into a fist and rested his hand on it for a moment, trying not to think of red skies at night and day as well. "My sleep is rarely pleasant, but it was sound. I am glad I did not wake you. I will often be...unsettled in the night. Especially after a day like yesterday, with so many memories close to the surface." He ate with gusto of his own cooking, fighting the occasional urge to save part of it for later. "It was very...pleasant to awaken to your face."

"It's called the Quantum Bauble," offered Sharl, peering with some confusion at the label. "A souvenir Rick Lucas brought back from another dimension, which is evidently an artifact of unknown origin that manifests itself as something different for every observer, this effect is not an illusion but is actually...oh, c'mon." Sharl glanced around at the museum all around them, seeing no one looking too closely in the direction of the curious teenagers, and shoved his hand right through the glass case! He ran holographic fingers through the artifact expectantly and sighed, withdrawing them a moment later. "And it feels exactly like it looks. Well, that's pretty undramatic." Unconsciously, he flexed his fingers. "Weird, though. Why would it show me a fake holosculpture?"

Citizen's chest emblem seemed to glow just a little brighter around Miss Americana. "We're ready, Miss A," he told his mentor brightly. "I've heard Claremont sometimes has science fairs, you should ask Ms. Harcourt if she's going to run one this year or next," offered Sharl to his fellow student. "I'm not as smart as one of our real gadgeteer students, but I think I could come up with something good if the chance was there." For Miss A's benefit, and to prove he'd been paying attention to his lessons, he added, "I've emailed the school so they know we're on schedule and will be arriving shortly, and I've made sure to read over info on the school online so I'll have something to say to the students. I know Keith LaMarr will be there as part of the faculty. That's the hero Wail," he added for Glow's benefit. He was obviously very comfortable in Miss A's lab, studying her work with some interest as they talked. "You know, if we have time, Glow might appreciate a ride in the gravcar, and so would the kids in Lincoln, I bet. They don't get to see a lot of flying cars." he instant-messaged Miss A, "" --------------------------- Up close, Keith could see that while age had caught up with Peter as it had for most men, good luck, or maybe time spent around superpeople, had kept him from the typical tremors or other problems associated with men who'd spent their lives getting punched in the face (or having their eardrums blown out, as the case may be) by superheroes. He was old, but his back was straight for all that. "LaMarr." He'd tried to avoid a meeting, but didn't flinch from this one now that he had it. "Can't say as I'm glad to see most people from the old days. But I'm glad it's you." He offered a weather-beaten hand. "My grandbaby tells me you're the only thing keeping the old days alive for most of these children." "Graaamps," said Patrick in what was the affectionate exasperation of many a teenage boy for a beloved authority figure, peering up from his work through his glasses. "I said Mr. LaMarr was the only teacher who ever made civics and history and stuff sound interesting." Like a lot of smart kids, Patrick didn't mesh terribly well with most of his classmates: luckily with his grades and prospects, he had a good ticket at getting an education after his high school career. "If I have to take that stuff, it might as well sound like it's about me, not just about some old white men in a textbook."

Sharl repressed the urge to flinch, reminding himself that this was all theater. "That seems tasteless," he muttered to Miss Americana. "Even if the people here don't think that was some sort of religious event or psionic impression come to life, you would think the idea of an artificial intelligence gaining sentience would be too important to use for musical self-promotion. Whether for or against." His earlier interest in the unusual musical stylings of this group was beginning to waver, but he still craned his neck over the crowd to try and get a better view. "Surely the man's family would object to him being used as a marketing tool."

The next morning, thanks to his cybernetically enhanced physique, Steve was up well before Gina. Disentangling himself from the bed was no easy task given how much the slightest movement of his body made the bed squeak and rock, but he was a very patient man and in better spirits than when he'd come there the night before. And it had been the night, he realized when he caught a glimpse of Gina's softly-glowing, unset alarm clock; he'd slept the entire night at his girlfriend's place for the first time since the beginning of their relationship. Heavy metal implants beneath his skin didn't make him terribly stealthy, but he was able to make his way out of the bedroom and into Gina's high-tech kitchen. He was familiar with the kitchen at least, and by aid of the morning light streaming in through the window was soon cooking Gina up a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, the sort he ate himself when the money was there for it. It was all very domestic; the sort of scene he mostly saw in movies and on television rather than in his own life. His own life had been very different, very different indeed. I'm a superhero now, he reminded himself, or tried to, anyway, his mind wandering from his cooking efforts as he tried to stave off an all-too-power surge of guilt. "I wonder if Gina would be open to creating a superteam which bears Miss Americana's name..." he said aloud, all the while trying to stifle the bubbling echoes of ghosts who jeered at him for a callous monster. He tried to drown them out with his own thoughts, his only weapons in the wars inside his mind. The past cannot be changed. The dead cannot be brought back to life. The past cannot be changed. The dead cannot be brought back to life. To dwell in eternal suffering is to dwell in the Terminus. To dwell in eternal suffering is to dwell in the Terminus. I am a free man. I am a free man.