Avenger Assembled

"No, I mostly do humanitarian work for UNISON," Edge replied. "I build homes and make foodstock, and occasionally chase off mercenaries or mobs who are trying to raid UNISON bases. It's not like AEGIS, UNISON tries not to get into fights if they can help it." Mark had nothing but an American patriot's respect for that institution, but there was no denying that the UN agency was far less openly confrontational than the gun-toting AEGIS agents most of the time. "They only called me in for this case because I've been working in Africa and I'm one of their big guns as far as major meta-crises. I mean, my powers are technically magic, I guess, but I don't know anything except how to find experts like you. Hmm, here we go." After a solid half-mile of undersea walking, the bay bottom notably chillier than the beach above, they approached their destination. This close, with no sheltering blanket of water, Nick could definitely feel the necromantic energies that had permeated into the bay bottom, a cold, dark, slimy pollution: if this had happened somewhere less isolated, it surely would have been an issue long since for the magically-inclined of the world. As it was, Nick and Edge were the first human being in a very long time to finally round the edge of the crag and find beneath the golden-hued, green-scaled mask of the sea-lich, looking like a Deep One's crown but with far more sinister magical imprecations coming from it. Even without the warning, Nick might not have picked it up: the completely uncorroded mask practically sizzled with buried unholy energies!

"The survivors of the lost world will be debriefed by the Freedom League to gain more information about the mechanics of a Terminus conquest, then put in Special Circumstances housing until they can find a home for themselves. One little girl, I think, may be going home with Jill O'Cure, they seemed to have a particularly special bond." He hadn't missed that little candle in the darkness, for all that there had been so much else to deal with. He put his hand on Gina's and squeezed it lightly, not quite turning to look at her. "The fate of the Terminus technicians is more...uncertain. They will be debriefed as well, and closely screened for biological and technological agents, and after that...most likely put in protective custody. They have committed no crime here, but they are bloody-handed murderers all the same." He turned and looked right at Gina for the first time. "I terrified them, and rightly so. A freed Omegadrone is vengeance incarnate to all who serve Omega. But I...I saw their faces, and I saw my parents reflected in them. I think...I think it is time I tell you their story." The weight of the past was obviously a heavy burden pressing on Steve, one he badly needed to unload.

Sharl was less impressed by the tree, not being a fan of all the natural pictures people in Freedom City seemed inclined to hang everywhere, but he certainly wasn't about to say that to Miss A! Instead he followed along, obediently carrying the pictures small enough that he and Miss A had kept them close instead of sending them along. He was stronger than he looked while projected, and easily able to manage the load. I suppose I probably look like Miss A's younger, not as attractive brother, he thought as the crowd watched his mentor, enjoying the reflected glory of being around the famous heroine as he usually did. With his sunglasses off and without his chest symbol, and with his projection particularly solid, he looked as human as anyone else. "I'm interested to see what they do with electronic music here," he offered as they made their way towards the set. "Some of the instruments look similar to home, just...built along more classic lines," he said euphemistically.

Steve took a drink, almost pure alcohol from her vodka bottle that would do no more than get him mildly buzzed, and sat on the couch next to Gina. "My day began when we at HAX made contact with a world in the last stages of destruction by the Terminus." He told her in a slow, methodical way of how they'd learned of the brutal invasion, the rapid destruction of civilization and life, and finally their own trip across dimensional barriers to try and rescue the few tiny fragments of human life left over after the flame deluge of Terminus conquest. "I had never been, free, to a world under attack by the Terminus. But when I saw their faces and felt their terrible despair, I remembered what it was to see that in other times, and other places, and be the instrument of their destruction. We captured civilians. Not refugees. Humans who worked for Shadivan Steelgrave, tending Omegaforges. And I was tempted..." He extended his hand half in front of him, fingers curling. "One dared beg me for mercy. And he got it, but it was...it was tempting."

"She can count on my utmost respect and discretion," said Daedalus with a wry chuckle from inside his armor. "And that she won't have to worry about my looking into her private affairs. After all, I can't even keep her name straight!" For the son of a previous generation's hero, he'd had a lot of time to work on his patter. "You have a fine building here, and a fine crew. I was honored to work with you, even by remove." And with that, he got back to work, the smooth, efficient veteran hero he'd been from the moment he arrived.

Steve had a pretty good idea where Gina was likely to be, but he knew better than to go down there and beard her in her den unless it was a serious emergency. And this wasn't an emergency, not in the sense that it would have justified frightening her that way. He walked inside the living room and said aloud, "No, things are not well with me tonight. I have had a very...difficult day, Gina. I need to talk to you." He sat down on the couch, the springs squeaking beneath his great weight, and looked at nothing as he sat his hands on his knees. "I apologize for the hour of my coming, and for not calling. I preferred not to be alone today."

"It's interesting," offered Sharl. His personal tastes didn't run much to the arts, but he'd absorbed a fair eye by osmosis from his sculptor sister. "Many of them are very talented, of course, and I'm impressed at how many colors they can make with just some plant derivatives and a few petrochemicals." It wasn't as good as what his sister could make, but Miss A had trained him far too well to make that sort of comment. He studied one particular painting that was an 'ironic' older Elvis on black velvet, hmming. "They certainly are creative." He was being very watchful today, and keeping his projection solid in this crowd of people. "Will we be looking to buy works of music the way we're buying the paintings and art? All that music piped into the lobby has to come from somewhere..."

April 2012 It was after midnight when Caradoc touched down in Gina's neighborhood, his armor retreating beneath his skin once he'd landed in the deserted cul-de-sac near her house. He walked alone and bareheaded through the quiet residential streets, the lights and life he could see in a few of the houses a grim reflection of the dead and dying world he'd left behind just a few hours earlier. The smell of burnt flesh was in his nostrils as he reached Gina's front door, the looks of utter despair and screams of horror in his mind as he pulled the knocker. Her young sidekick was surely at his school at this hour, it would have to be just her home tonight. Perhaps he was imposing with coming here with the way his relationship stood with Gina, but Erin had been right: this was no night to be alone, this was a night to be with one who cared for you and who you cared for in return. And in all the world; in all the worlds, there was no one who cared for him like Gina Evans did, just as there was no one he cared for but her. His life had a way of putting weight on everything.

"...I will go to my girlfriend's place, I think," said Steve as he rose to his feet, awkwardly touching Erin's hand for a moment. "We have spoken of the past infrequently, but she knows what I am. Perhaps it is time we speak more. It is no night to have these thoughts and be alone with them, yes." He looked at Erin and gently suggested, "I think your work here is done, and your young man may be waiting for you." He thought back to that morning, a lifetime ago, and added, "Tell him thank you again for the coffee." The former drone waited until she was clear, then made himself Caradoc for the flight to Gina's house. This was no night to hide invisibly, but it was no night to fly as an Omegadrone, either.

The three heroes worked late that night, later than they already had on what was one of the longest days of their respective lives. There were sick people who were willing to be treated, finally, now that they'd made it safely to the other world, there were hungry people who needed fed, there were psychological breakdowns to console now that the shock of disaster had been replaced with the hard reality of survival, and a dozen other things in the bargain. Samson Power eventually did regain consciousness under Jill's ministrations, nodding in grim understanding of the unhappy fate that befallen Green Screen. "It's not just. But then, nothing else was about the last week." When Lady Liberty finally arrived with the people from Special Circumstances Housing, she took one look at Yolanda, who had fallen asleep clinging to Jill, and didn't so much as bat an eyelash. Most of the other unattached kids had hooked up with parents from their own world, but it was obvious Yolanda had found who she wanted to stay with. "Just make sure you get her in for screening in the morning. Another pair of eyes looking at her will help you know what you need to help her." Daedalus shook Dragonfly's hand as they stood together by the suit that had started all this and said without a blink. "When Ms. Holloman returns, tell her she's done exemplary work here. Not many scientists would have been clever enough and courageous enough to deploy superheroes through the gateway. Between this and her performance during my own lapse with the Conquering Mind, I'll make sure to put her on the list for other emergency technical matters...if you think she'll be interested, that is." Wander found Steve sitting by himself on the sidewalk once the last of the refugees and their tormentors the technicians had been taken away; the first to FLSCH, the latter to processing by AEGIS first and an uncertain future in the aftermath. He was alone in that dark night, a singular figure underneath a lightpole outside HAX. "I could have been them. Not the refugees. The slaves. It is a humbling thought."

Mark Lucas wasn't a shark in social situations; that suggested a predatory drive that Edge generally didn't have. Rather, he was more like a jellyfish, drifting brightly through the crowd, absorbing everything as he went, and leaving his prey helpless to resist simply by the act of passing by. "Hey, you guys," he said cheerfully as he rejoined them with Nina following close behind. "It turns out that they've got all the security staff out tonight for a reason besides all the royal stuff. One of their psychics back home got an intimation that something was up tonight and so they...hey, is everything okay?" The tension between Erin and Trevor was thick enough to cut with a knife, or rather, the tension between them and the rest of the party. He'd picked up on the familiar faces in the crowd readily enough, putting two and two together: it made sense that someone who liked gambling as much as Morakot al-Darsah would have someone who was probably a major creditor in the crowd, and of course he'd kept a somewhat tentative eye on Daisy Gibbons after their rescue of Daisy's Anti-Earth double from his own evil double.

There was a lot to see in the Lucas Collection, with something for everyone among the assembled teen heroes to take in. Sharl found himself drawn to an exhibit about the Furies Three, the trio of golden-skinned robot sisters who had been first heroes, then grim vigilantes and outlaws, in Freedom City in the 1960s and 1970s. Before the Centurion even found us. There was something almost pathetic about the "spare brain module" laid out for everyone to see, the assembly of transistors and daka crystals a potential mind if repaired and powered up. Between that and the disappearance of Galatea from the same era, Freedom City didn't seem to treat its robotic defenders very kindly. I should talk to Protectron about that sometime... Eve and Corbin, the only ones there who'd actually met either one of the elder Lucases, found plenty of pictures of Mark's dad in his prime; a laughing, confident young man in the company of the Centurion and the greatest heroes of his day, with no hint of the darkness that would cloud his later years and ultimately overwhelm much of his legacy. Going back a few years, the black and white sight of bow-tied and cardiganed Jimmy Lucas hugging La Renard Rouge with a picture labeled "After Gender-Switch Reversed, 1943" was certainly not the way Eve's relative was typically depicted in the historical record: she seemed to like it! Meanwhile, Rick Lucas had evidently visited the Kinigosi homeworld at one point! The sight of the squishy human alongside the space-going heroes of the 1960s was certainly not a typical sight for people on Wraith's homeworld. He'd gone there in the company of the second Angel of Vimy, the patriotic Canadian heroine who had retired from True North about the time Daniel Storm had become associated with that organization, during one of True North's first big extra-terrestrial trips: Rick seemed to be taking quite an interest in the maple-leaf clad heroine, and someone had actually included a picture of the two of them canoodling in the section on "Heroes on All Nations". The 1970s had been an era of somewhat more free-wheeling morals, if the picture Koshiro found of Rick, a gold medallion on his bare chest, in a hot tub with Lotus Blossom and Tsunami, two Japanese-American heroines of the 1970s, were any judge: the display was theoretically one devoted to the defeat of the Chrysanthemum Menace, a sentient plant that had swallowed one world and threatened to devour Los Angeles, but Rick had managed to do so in the company of some very fine ladies. At least the pictures and short video feed included from the other side of the rift, an eerie, haunted and nearly abandoned city covered in a bizarre coating of flowers, were interesting. Kimber found no ghosts, at least, none besides the sort that haunted museums whether you could see them or not. In fact, come to think of it, there were no 'monsters' here at all: though there were collections about Dracula's visit in the 1970s, selected pictures and artifacts from Rick Lucas' pairings with Adrian Eldritch and other magical heroes, all told the same story about evil undead monsters and the heroic human heroes who took them out, fast and hard. It was as if people like her hadn't existed at all.

Interaction Skills: The mood of the party is upbeat as the heroes circulate through the crowd, the attention the Socotrans in the crowd are paying to the princess and her very handsome date enough to let Trevor and Erin mingle unmolested. There's a lot of talk floating around about Prince Morakot's mysterious fiancee, evidently the embassy staff and guests are as in the dark as everyone else is about who it is the prince is going to announce is his bride to be that night. The Socotran Consul, Ahmed al-Khalif, is like most Socotran diplomats a loyal, unimaginative agent of his king: he's here in a Western suit and tie, alternating between coffee and champagne while socializing with the others. Knowledge checks: There are some super-criminals in the crowd Trevor recognizes, some who've served their time, some who the government hasn't quite gotten around to investigating yet, some who haven't technically broken any laws: is that Meaghan's father and mother? Why yes, yes it is. Saturnalia Roman, of all people, is there with a pretty piece of man-candy on her arm, talking to Jonathan Grant. It's not too surprising to see this many corrupt businessmen and arms-dealing types at a Socotran party; the island nation is a major center for corrupt practices, for all that Typhoon is careful that nothing illegal be traced back to the nation itself. There's at least one famous person there Trevor recognizes from a field other than his own; Cal McKenzie is a record producer from New York City, particularly influential in international music and teen pop. Cal has worked with acts from Freedom City, though, he's actually Daisy Gibbons' manager. Investigate+Search: Trevor does overhear a conversation about the prince and his wife-to-be between two embassy waiters near the buffet table, the younger of the two, a youngish Socotran man in his early twenties, is talking in a low whisper about how he hopes he'll be able to get an American woman that young and beautiful when he's the prince's age! His colleague, an older and more experienced man, hushes the younger waiter with a meaningful glance around at both the furnishings and the crowd, but does nod and makes an hourglass gesture in the air with his hands, winking, before urging the younger man to get back to work. Notice: The room is bugged, of course, there are security cameras in the ceiling and walls that are put just out of the eyeshot of people who don't know where to look. It's tough to tell how powerful they are, but given Typhoon's wealth and access to super-technology it's probably the best. Those big muscular guys in suits and ties watching the crowd are certainly bodyguards; it looks like the Consulate has both local and Socotran muscle on scene. Meaghan is definitely there, flirting with a tall, handsome young man about their age with dusky features and dark eyes, a Socotran by the look of him. When asked, Nina hasn't seen him before, but then she always has trouble keeping track of the little people. When the man passes Trevor and Erin on the way to get his date more punch, the heroes distinctly notice something odd about him: as he meets Trevor's eyes, just for a second, he blinks his eyes...and then closes his inner eyelids. He has nictitating membranes.

"" replied the dragon with assurance. "" For his own part, as the dragon talked to Archeville, Edge was having a quiet conversation with Nina while the great firebreather was distracted. When they were done, he slipped closer to the older man in the narrow confines of the tunnel and murmured to him. "Can you track whatever beamed him in with that thing? Enough for us to actually port over there, wherever it happens to be?" Edge had been around enough weird things in his time to know a setup when he saw one. "Nina's pretty confident she can take Fafnir in a fight, so she's willing to keep an eye on him while we take a look around." Sure enough, the princess was giving an almost predatory eye to the dragon as she talked animatedly with Fafnir about medieval royalty; the dragon sounding like he'd gotten most of his knowledge out of a book.

Sure, that's fine.

"Sure, I can get a submarine out here in a couple of days. There's a research project going on in Liberia right now that I have the authority to commandeer." Edge looked out at the water, shivering a little against the cold, and then added, "But you know, we should probably check and make sure the mask is still there, and that it doesn't have any defenses that could kill a person using the submarine. In my experience, ancient magic artifacts tend to have all sorts of creepy side-effects, especially evil ones like this." The blue and gold-clad hero gestured at the surface of the water and it began to part, cement bricks rising from the muck to make a channel down along the muddy bay bottom towards the darkly-jutting crag a half-mile out indicated by the skeleton. The inquisitor simply stood, a silent sentinel, and watched as Mark carved a way through the bay down to where the mask lay, the golden artifact itself too far away to make out clearly. "We won't touch it, obviously, but we can at least scan it and make sure it's okay. The last thing we want is for anyone else to get hurt by this thing. Enough people have suffered already." And with that, he led the way across the mud, his boots squelching through the former bay bottom as they headed for the rocky finger jutting high in the sky.

"Great. Well, hm," said Edge, thinking out loud. He certainly wasn't about to recommend they let this guy go; it was a temptation to suggest Wander turn him over and shake him until more truth came out. "Do we need to go to Kholat Syakhl and wait for it to arrive?" he asked aloud, trying to get the others' input. Everyone knew how fast he could get them there. "Or should we try and intercept this thing in space? With the Lighthouse, there are a lot more eyes in the sky now than there were in the 1950s the first time this thing showed up." Back then there hadn't been a Liberty League OR a Freedom League, in fact. Was that why whatever creature was behind this had gone to the Soviet Union? It was an unpleasant thought.

Edge skill masters a 30 in Bluff, Diplomacy, and Gather Info, as well as 15 in Notice. Posts to follow anon.

Miss A, Wail, Glow, and Citizen deal with a legacy from the recent past and the very distant future.

Unfair Science Fair May 22, 2012 It was a big day at Joseph Clark High School; luckily Keith LaMarr was a very big man. The largest public high school in Lincoln was today hosting the 23rd annual George Washington Carver Science Fair, a cavalcade of the best and brightest from all over South Freedom. Kids from around there didn't get a lot of opportunities, so the chance for budding young geniuses to strut their stuff in public before potential college scouts was very compelling. It helped that today the school had managed to secure a celebrity judge for the GWC Fair: the world-famous gadgeteer Miss Americana! A lot of this was outside of Keith's area of expertise, of course, but few teachers at any high school in the area could bring a crowd of parents, students, and onlookers to heel with a look with as much ease as Mr. LaMarr the civics teacher. So he was on scene early to help with organization as Joseph Clark's kids got their displays set up and more kids began to arrive for the fair. It was a big day for everybody, with palpable excitement on the eager faces of the young scholars. Nearby was Patrick Grayson, an up-and-coming young senior whose intelligence had vaulted him several grades up, his research project having let him construct a minature gravitic generator like what Daedalus used to power his armor. The floating silver sphere was just a toy, but it bespoke good things for the kid who'd built it on his table using scraps. Keith had had special reason to pay attention to Patrick, and that reason was there too. Patrick's grandpa was watching his son work with pride, the grey-haired older man with his shock of hair and mustache vaguely slightly resembling Don King. Peter Grayson, aka the Mauler, had been a recurring foe for 1-800-JUSTICE back in the day, but the former prizefighter had abandoned his criminal ways after marrying Patrick's gramma Rose Marie. Pete had recognized Keith, of course, but the now- bespectacled older man had been very careful to stay close by his grandson rather than wander too close to his old enemy. -------- Meanwhile, across town, Glow and Citizen were flying along from the Claremont campus towards Miss Americana's laboratory; her facility one at the Lab, not the one at Archetech. It was Glow's 'ride-along day' for Miss Americana, part of her heroic training, which luckily coincided with Citizen's weekly day spent with his mentor. "You'll have a _great time_ with Miss A," Citizen was reassuring Glow, obviously looking very happy to be there. He didn't hang out with Kristen too much, but she was pretty cool, and of course Miss A was the coolest. "We're not doing much today, just some stuff around Freedom City, but she's great to hang out with. Her lab's got great gadgets, and she's just neat." He hadn't had a chance to hang out with Miss A much (as opposed to Gina) lately, and so he was looking forward to today quite a lot. Glow had heard of Miss Americana, of course, who hadn't heard of the beautiful, all-American genius whose charitable works made her so popular? From cybernetic limbs for injured kids all the way through blasting city-controlling abominations from the depths of space, Miss Americana was all right. It made a lot of sense that a famous science hero like Miss A had a cybernetic sidekick like Citizen, for all that he hadn't talked much about where he came from. Miss A had left the window of her laboratory open against the comfortable late spring day (since this was more a traveling day than a working day), and Glow and Citizen flew right in.

Jack had been right to be suspicious; Harrier understood extradimensional corruption and its terrible consequences only too intimately. I'd...oh, no, he means something else. "I will watch you carefully, my friend. You can count on me." he promised Jack seriously. Facing the dimensional rift, he turned to Gabriel once he'd parsed Jack's nomenclature. "Can you simply use your powers to shut it?" he asked curiously. "You seem the most suited of the three of us to deal with this sort of extradimensional incursion..." He knew very little about this sort of thing, but was more than willing to follow along with the others.

Sharl stood eye to eye with the Curator drone Rick Lucas and the Black Avenger had captured after encountering it attempting to kidnap and replace someone named James Marshall Hendrix in 1969, his face unreadable as he studied the robotic facet of the intelligence that had once held his people in chains. After a moment's hesitation, his nerve failed him, and he turned away, his silhouette briefly occluding the deactivated robot's. "It's amazing how much of the changes that came to this place happened in two generations. Eighty Earth years ago, a man flying under his own power would've been crazy. It's the same with technology, society, and everything else you've had change. I think it's good you have museums like this; otherwise people will lose track of who they are." He left the robot behind and found himself hmming as he looked over an alien artifact left behind by one of the early Lor visits to Earth in the early 1950s. "I'm just surprised more people don't think about this. You have absolute proof of the fantastic things all around your world, knowledge of a whole universe of aliens and civilizations, and most people just...shrug it off."

That got him a very skeptical eye from all the kids, for all that the nicer ones like Demeter seemed to think he was humoring them. One of the twins spoke up, his double finishing his sentence a moment later. "Santa Claus is a mythohistorical entity from the Judeo-Christian tradition. Today he is primarily used as part of commercial festivals commemorating capitalist success and birth of god-king images." Harrier shrugged slightly, looking a little helpless, before suggesting, "But there may still be truth behind the legend. Right, Victory?" he asked hopefully. He had no knowledge of this Santa Claus fellow himself, for all that of course he was aware of the Christmas holiday and how it was celebrated on Earth-Prime. I should see when Gina is next available, he thought, briefly distracted from the conversation.

The tunnel was dark and dry, still warmed from the dragon's recent emergence, continuing to show the signs of the recent teleportation that Doctor Archeville had noticed upon the dragon's arrival. Ending in a wall, the rough cylinder of air had obviously been carved by no natural force: the walls were too smooth for that, and neither Nina nor Mark could make heads or tails of it: it hadn't been done by water power or lasers, and it had been done fairly recently. "I guess _I_ could probably do this," Mark hazarded, the dragon having crowded up in the middle of their group as they studied the dead end from which he had emerged. "If I put my mind to it and tried hard. But there are lots of people with matter-based powers, so I don't know if that means anything..."

Protected by Etain's psychic shield, the team watched as Max Muscle raced ahead of them down the deserted alien beach towards the rapidly disappearing alien biker trio. Maybe Max had made some lifestyle choice mistakes to bring him to this point, but the Furion-by-adoption seemed determined to make up for those mistakes by sheer ferocity and determination, hurling himself forward faster and faster after the fleeing Overriders. He wasn't totally lost to the battle-fury, though, and in response to Trevor's question said, "" He fell silent for a moment as their group cleared the beach and found what was evidently the destination of the Overriders: a small island no bigger than Claremont's campus, dotted by irregular stone columns that might once have been part of this world's civilization before it had plunged into the Terminus. There, the group of mind-controlled Overriders and their passenger landed their bikes in the middle of a clearing in the stones. "" "" It was Redbird's voice who came through the link, her warrior's voice full of urgent concern. Max responded instantly; an instant too late as he reached an area a few hundred yards from the island and slammed into an invisible wall, a gong of struck force revealing a translucent dome over the island that hadn't been cut to allow the Furion through. He fell, bike and all, towards the alien sea a dozen yards beneath, having turned in time to avoid a headlong collision but still having smashed into the invisible wall at nearly full speed.