Avenger Assembled

Wraith (and anyone else sneaking in): I need a Stealth check. It's not going to be that tough to avoid being seen, given the big giant distraction that's Citizen and Rogue hamming it up at each other, but you will be able to see more things vis a vis the freighter and where the bomb might be. Cobalt Templar and Ghost Girl: Initiative time! Sharl is down an HP.

"On it, Papercut. Thanks." He smiled the ghost of a smile at his roomate. "I'll be keeping Rogue busy, so use Sage to find Wraith. Next time there'll be more to explore here." With Wraith taking point for stealth, and the others coming to back her up, Sharl knew it was time for him to fly into the enemy stronghold and challenge the enemy leader to a fight. He found himself answering the argument in his head not with the face of Mr. Archer or his teammates, but rather with Miss Americana. I know I'm not being very subtle, but everyone else is and that should take Rogue by surprise. We're not scrambling to catch up anymore, and I'm not hiding. The people in that freighter are counting on Citizen to save them. This is my city. These are my people, and I'm not going to let them suffer at her hands another minute. A moment later Sage, if you're reading this, try and link what I'm thinking to the others so they can see this too. When Citizen crashed through the empty upper deck of the plankton freighter, he didn't need to feign outrage as he appeared in the massive cargo hold, big as any two or three buildings in Claremont. "Rogue! Your evil ends now!" He took in the scene instantly, the hundreds of people who'd been working on the plankton docks, all secured to cube-seats around the perimeter like they were students at one of the old mass schools, with Rogue herself sitting on a massive steel throne in the center of their little circle. He caught a glimpse of the supervillains she'd brought with her; a feral-looking woman with triangular ears and square metal armor, a rapidly-shifting iridescent blobby humanoid with an indeterminate shape, and some sort of angular metal thing, but they all slipped into the shadows and away from the terrified civilians shouting for his aid at a wave from Rogue. His worst enemy smiled as she uncrossed her long, leather-clad legs and floated up into the air to sneer at him. "Well well well, I see you came here alone, anyway. And as for my evil, well, was that some line you learned from your super-school, boy?" On the docks outside, on every one of the omnipresent monitors in the area, the two of them sprang to life like some demented television show. He crossed his arms and glared at her, mindful of the need to keep her attention on him. "I think it's a pretty fair description, you monster. You're the one who led these aliens to our city; YOU're the one planning on killing all these people!" he shouted, gesturing to the dockworkers and crewmen all around. Her eyes flashed an alarming shade of red for a moment before she laughed. "Oh, please, is that what you think I am? Some crazy maniac out to kill my hometown? You've been reading too much Earth propaganda." She focused her gaze on Sharl, speaking to him with the intensity of a missionary. "I'm here to give these people, _our_ people, the future." "A future with no home? No city? Where we're all, what, pawns to some stupid alien robot who actually thinks some ridiculous alien gods built him?" Sharl was not a big fan of Talos, or the bronze giant's mechanical agenda. "No. A future where we have our own city, and our own world." Rogue smiled. "A future where _their_ world is _ours_." She pointed to the sky, and Sharl knew perfectly well what world she meant. "A world with no more lies, no more tricks about what we are! A world where _we_ are the masters we have always deserved to be, and where _they_ are bowing down to _us_." She gave him an imploring look. "It's not too late, Citizen. You don't have to serve them any longer." "I'm not their _servant_," said Sharl cuttingly, hoping their big, noisy argument was distracting the supervillains below from all the sneaking around his friends were doing. "They're my friends, or my teachers. Their world is-" "THEIR WORLD!" Rogue detonated, driving her fists together with a boom loud enough to warm their air around her. "You know what their world is? Nothing but...nothing but animals who have befouled their own dens!" She flitted back and forth as she talked, her teeth set in a sudden fury. "They buy and sell their women in half the nations on their globe, they let unmanaged wildlife run wild across their land, they _murder_ each other for being of the wrong geographical area, they pump their skies black with carbon! Their world is _sick_, Citizen, and we. can be. their. _doctors_." "Maybe they do have problems," replied the electronic teenager firmly, mindful of the need not to betray his own secrets in front of all these people, who surely couldn't handle the knowledge of what had happened to Tronik, "but we should be lifting them up, not tearing them down because we haven't come as far as we have. And what if they could teach us some things too? Like about compassion. And respect for our common humanity. And tolerance, and...and origami, and Indian food, and a whole world that's just as good as ours!" "Their tolerance? Please." She gave him a dead-eyed stare over her mirrorshades. "You've lived among them. You've spoken with them. Can you really tell me that you've never felt different? That they've never made you _feel_ different because of what you are? Because you're a machine, and they're flesh and blood? Because they're real, and you're not?" She flew close enough to almost poke him in the chest with one long finger. "Have they called you 'it' yet?" Sage's face flashed in Sharl's mind, there and gone before he could stop himself, but he managed once again to concentrate on the threat at hand. It wasn't fair. "Just because we lost a world once doesn't mean we can take one now. And if you were really as righteous as you act, you'd be offering Tronik a choice, not forcing us to live by your vision of the world. Now stand down, and order your aliens out of the city so we can stop those annihalation devices. Or face the consequences."

Even as paranoid as the Tronik militia was, Gal Vanic's good cheer was infectious. She didn't get the laugh she might have gotten from Freedom City cops, but she didn't get blasted in the face despite her shocking demonstration. One of the militia officers might even have been smiling, though that was just a guess with the full face plates and all. The senior officer put his hand to his face for a moment and walked out with the others to form a perimeter around the edge of the roof without so much as a word of greeting. These weren't friendly folks, but they weren't going to stand in Gal Vanic and Cobalt Templar's way. The voice sounded in Cobalt Templar's head again. And then, as Gal Vanic landed, Keres simply strolled out of thin air with a smile on his face, the militia officers spinning around with their weapons drawn. "I have no wish to harm you, my brothers-to-be!" called the Foundry's assassin, "so let me instead assume a form more suitable for war with these filthy organics!" He laughed, and suddenly the red-eyed humanoid swelled with a monstrous regularity that could only be artificial, growing larger and fiercer as his teeth pulled back in a snarl. "COME!" he boomed. "LET US GRAPPLE WITH EACH OTHER!"

"Hey, no problem." Upon his release, Freebooter snapped his fingers and produced a jaunty pirate hat like something from a Republic serial. Once the hat was back on his head, he seemed to slip smoothly back into her persona. "Arr, don't worry, sentient programs be some of me best mates. I'd never have come to plunder these waters if I'd known they were inhabited. Just be careful where you go in here, swabbies. The Foundry'd like nothing better than to run yer scalps up their flagpole. These waters may not be real, but the cannon'll knock you down sure as anything." And with that, he vanished, folding sideways as if he'd never been there. About that time, one of the nearby monitors lit up with Citizen's face. "Hey, Sage and Papercut, I got your message about Freebooter," said Citizen seriously. "If you've got that in hand, we need backup by the docks." As he spoke, a coordinate map popped up on a screen next to them. "I'm doing this while talking to Wraith, so gimmie a minute...yeah, we're right there." A blinking dot popped up. "Get out here as fast as you can. Wraith's going to need backup getting into Rogue's lair and rescuing the people I think she's got hostage, not to mention taking out the aliens there. I'll be keeping Rogue busy."

Sharl concentrated, nodding in satisfaction after a few moments. "I've blocked us out too, so we can talk without them hearing us. You're right about needing to recon." He dropped down low behind one of the huge ships, Citizen and Wraith disappearing behind the giant shadow of one of the massive plankton freighters. "This isn't right," he muttered worriedly to Wraith. "These docks should be swarming with people, even if there is a crisis. This isn't like Freedom City, it wouldn't be vacant like this during working hours..." He pushed back his own fear, trying to dismiss the imaginary images of the broken bodies he hadn't been there to save. "All right, you're right about reconnaissance," he told Wraith. "Okay, so here's my idea. I give Rogue me rushing in without a plan, what she's probably come to expect, but meanwhile you're scouting out that ship. Maybe finding her allies, or seeing if that's where she's put the dock crew. All right?" He flexed his fingers. "If she hits me, or if her friends do, well, I can take a hit better than maybe anyone else on our team when we're all uploaded. Worry about the civilians and maybe the other bomb first. Saving the people of Tronik is what matters here."

There was a crater near the cracked-open castle gates that had filled in with water since, and with a sigh of relief Nina kicked off her shoes , rolled up her pants,. cand buried her bare feet in the new pond. "Aah, that's nice. However cold the air is, the water always feels just about perfect" She leaned back and gave Mark a lazy smile, looking more comfortable with her body partially in the water. "Just think, if you'd done more damage, all this could be a lovely mountain lake." She sighed, the water rising up around her bare legs at her mental command. "I'm counting you to convince me that this is a better way to spend your last week in Europe than Ibiza," she added with a little smile. Mark sat down next to her, keeping his feet out of the water. "Well, we're not going to spend the whole week here," he said with a little laugh. "Remember, there's still that ski lodge with our names on it." Dating the daughter of a king did have its advantages, even if arguments about politics tended to go awry very fast for the two of them. "I know it's silly to worry about property damage when people died," he said, waving his hand idly over the pond and warping a sculpture of green water up into the air. "But there was a lot of history here. It was a shame to lose it all because of one bad week." "Deep Ones don't have history," said Nina dismissively, "they're the scum of the undersea. I've fought them alongside my father since I was a child, and I know they're nothing but filthy monsters." Typhoon had also had his share of conflicts with regular Atlanteans, but Nina was too young to have engaged in those sorts of wars alongside her family. "If one of them had burned your family house down, the only thing they'd regret is not catching you inside it." "That's not fair," said Mark loyally. "It's not Archeville's fault he got taken over by weird magic. I just don't think someone should be defined by one bad thing, or even a series of bad things," and as he spoke he pictured his own father in his mind, "when they did good in their life too. The world's more complex than that. I know how you feel when people call your father a supervillain," he added pointedly to Nina, who from the look in her eye had to admit the truth of that. He put his hand on hers, his skin pale against hers dark, and they shared a smile that turned into a kiss.

With the struggling Grue Arcane captured, Fleur de Joie returned to Earth-Prime with her prisoner in tow just in time for the rescue. As a portal opened beneath Rene's mystic brush, Weaver reached in and scooped the little girl out, a faint boom underneath the soil the only sign of the hibernation pod's boobytraps going off. The real Chloe looked the very image of the resurrected angel (a far cry from the Grue that had disappeared into Fleur's dimensional gateway), her skin a little pale and blonde hair floofing around her head, awakening almost immediately in her tearful father's arms. "Daddy? What happened?" she asked as she blinked her big blue eyes awake. Between getting the family to the nearest hospital to make sure that the real Chloe had suffered no ill effects from being inside a Grue hibernation pod (as well as to make sure that this was, in fact, the real Chloe Johnson), conveying the now-hissing, spitting Grueling to the custody of the Freedom League who'd be able to deal with her in a manner best-suited to her, there was certainly plenty for the heroes to do in the aftermath. And lastly, came disposing of a woman who should have been much more of a threat that she had been: Madame Zero, whose attack on Weaver's neighborhood had prompted the heroes to stick together in the first place. Decanted from a giant flower, the white-skinned villainess stood there in the Blackstone entry hall, unresisting, as the guards removed her armor and fitted her with power nullifiers, everyone's breath but hers misting in the deep cold she required to stay alive in jail. "It's easy to keep her in place," the guards had confided to the heroes on the way in, "you just turn up the heat in the halls." Finally, she focused on the heroes with her ice-blue eyes and said in a voice like a winter wind, "The baby. Did you see him?" People said Madame Zero didn't have any feelings, but it was hard to see that now.

1958 Gil Kane, Gardner Fox, and Julius Schwartz sit around a writing desk debating how to revive the Green Lantern franchise. A superscience spacecop instead of a magic lone wolf, one who inherited the ring from a dying alien who crash-landed on Earth and passed the ring and its accompanying lantern along to the nearest worthy person. The conversation turns towards the implications of that idea; anyone could have been chosen for the ring had they been the closest honest person without fear. After all, the Green Lanterns and their masters aren't human, so details of human biology and culture are pretty irrelevant to them. Gardner Fox, something of a polymath, happens to mention an article he read about Jacqueline Cochran the other day and somebody gets a neat idea. Otto Binder's recent test run for a "Super Girl" went over pretty well, and he's planning to make her a permanent addition to the Superman franchise. Maybe lady heroes are the next big thing in comics! And besides, that way they have a defense if 'Doc' Smith takes them to court over the Lensman thing. -- Carol Ferris debuts in Showcase #22 (October 1959). The daughter of a WWII veteran and aircraft manufacturer, she would dearly love to go up into space herself, but wouldn't you know it, that's a man's game! Until that aircraft test bed gets sucked into the desert and she meets a dead pink-skinned alien and is passed a ring of great power: the Green Lantern is born! It's the 50s so her writing isn't great (she wishes she could give up being Green Lantern and marry hunky test pilot Hal Jordan "Oh if only HAL would give me a ring!", but there's always another crisis to deal with, and anyway Hal's in love with Green Lantern, not her), but she's still as strong as Robert Kanigher's Wonder Woman and the character sticks. A general theme is that in the Space Age, the only thing that matters to Americans is skill and will. When they put together a super-team for Brave and the Bold #28, Green Lantern joins: sure, why not? (Meanwhile, Hal gets issued this brightly colored gem from the Zamorans, but you know how how that goes.) Sales flag a bit by the 1970s, so they have Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams take over the title and turn it into a Hard-Travelin' Heroes adventure: Carol takes rich industrialist Oliver Queen (he's so old-fashioned and conservative he uses a bow and arrow, for Pete's sake!) across the country, showing him what it's really like for the working man and woman. They do their level best to be feminist, and by the standards of comics of the day, they do. Thanks to support from Carol and Dinah, Oliver helps Speedy dry out instead of kicking him out. Sales keep slipping, though. In 1972, thanks to a preliminary sketch from recently hired artist Dave Cockrum, DC debuts Jane Stewart, a white-haired African-American woman, as Carol's substitute. Jane winds up being around for the Crisis on Infinite Earths, thanks to a poorly-timed event in the Green Lantern title. Whoopsie! (Luckily, Tony Isabella writes her in a very compelling way) Carol still pops up on Superfriends, though, where Darkseid's always trying to marry her. (I'm fast-forwarding through Kylie Rayner's debut, rise, and subsequent fall for the sake of the narrative) Then, in 2005, with enough nostalgia that people want Carol back, Gail Simone is offered a chance to revive the Green Lantern franchise...

Dok, Edge, and Nina discuss the politics of who blew up whose house, and maybe fight something terrible from the depths of space.

April 2012 "So you just...destroyed his entire castle." Nina al-Darsah was wrapped in a tourist's fleece jacket and heavy slacks, her desert-born constitution not much for southern Germany in April. Alongside Mark Lucas, she stood on the hill overlooking the remains of Schloss Archeville. She actually smiled, leaning over and nudging Mark on the arm. "I have to say, Mark, I didn't think you had that kind of violence in you. Did you take any pictures after you were done?" She smiled, and it was that vicious grin that was so attractive in more private circumstances, but less so now to the heroic UNISON agent. "No, it wasn't like that," said Mark, feeling a little defensive in his blue and white sweater and slacks. Sometimes Nina's approval was pretty great, other times it made him feel...ashamed. "The field agents had just managed to get the prisoners and brainwashed people out of the building. We had no idea if there was some kind of doomsday device in the building, or a portal to the Grue homeworld, or something to summon more Deep Ones...so I took the building down, fast and hard, with all the power I could." He'd had headaches for days afterwards, having summoned by sheer force of will a nickel-iron asteroid that had smashed the building to rubble without doing damage to the surrounding terrain. "And your power is vast." Consoling, Nina slipped an arm through his. "If it makes you feel any better, I've always thought ruins like this are much more attractive than intact buildings. It really gives you a feel for the history of the place." She kissed his cheek as they walked down the hill towards what remained below. "I'm glad you brought me here," she added seriously. "I know this has...troubled you." It hadn't troubled Nina a bit, but she was willing to accept the idea that someone might be bothered by it. "Not troubled," said Mark, picking his way down the fairly rough path from the hill they'd arrived on, the scars from the battle the year before still healing on the land. "I don't have any regrets about being here and standing up for the people in the area. I just wish there'd been another way."

Thanks, SC; just trying to get an older thread wrapped up!

With his friends on their way, Steve sat at the bar table and began taking careful notes about what he wanted to say, precise and planning with his Bic pen on a cocktail napkin. HOW TO COURT WOMEN. IDEAS? And then MUST NOT TELL. He could trust Gabriel and Jack, but if anyone knew Gina's secret, he was reasonably confident it was neither man. Both Jack and Carson seemed like the sort of men who had experience in dealing with women; surely they'd have some good advice, even if his circumstances were singularly unique. Eventually he put his pen away and sat there eating peanuts, waiting for the others to arrive. Clearly visible with his bald head and scarred face in the dark bar, he had a table to himself as the other two arrived.

"Yes, it has been a busy season," replied Steve with the earnest air of a man doing his best to make small talk. "And no, there is no crisis at the moment. This was actually a personal matter. I was wondering if you would like to catch up with me and talk about things. You know, about women, as men do." He nervously crushed a peanut between his fingers as he talked. "I am at a bar called Przezanski's in the West End, I can give you the address. The beer here is very good." Men were watching a soccer game between Poland and the Ukraine on a flickering old television in the corner, the smell of sausage in the air as the bartender laid out a plate of greasy stuff for a hungry customer.

When he hung up, Steve realized he'd forgotten to tell Jack that other people would be at what the television had called a "man-meeting." Oh well, no one was going to be giving away secret identities there, least of all him, so surely there was no potential problem. He'd just have to make sure to call Gabriel in a hurry. He ordered another beer, and this time called up Carson. "Hello, Carson. it's Steve," he said, his flat voice unmistakable even when he was relaxed. "Are you well?" His distinctive appearance was attracting some attention, as usual, but the quiet Polish bar wasn't the sort of place where people stared at each other much,

"Oh, no, no," said Steve, a little awkwardly. He talked to people so little, of course they assumed when he sought them out there was some sort of crisis. "Nothing like that. I was calling to see if you might want to join me for a drink. To talk about women. You know..." That was the sort of thing men talked about in bars, he was sure. "I am at a bar in your part of the city, it is called the..." he peered through the faint haze in the room. Though tobacco smoking was almost impossible to come by in Freedom City, a faint air of it clung to this old place with its smoothly polished, deeply-aged wooden bar with mirror hanging behind. "It is called Przezanski's."

Edge seemed to be everywhere in the battlefield, popping around like a jackrabbit in little bursts of roiling magic energy as he tried to take in everything going on and back everyone up. Mark had a way of stepping up in a crisis, and this was one of the bigger ones he'd faced recently. "Hey, somebody help Cannonade!" he called, pointing to where the helmeted powerhouse was taking some hits from one of the unholy monsters. "It looks like Crimson Bomb's getting somewhere, let's give some backup over there! Great work, Wander, keep hammering them! And somebody help out Nightwatchman, that sword's going to need more hits before he takes anything down! Let's hit them while they're distracted!"

Edge is going to drop another Inspire.

2 makes the most sense for me, and I'm sure Rene wouldn't mind spending an HP to let you see what he's doing? Sounds like a plan to me.

Harrier, Jack of all Blades, and Gabriel learn that in vino, danger!

April 2012 Steve Murdock didn't have a lot of friends, which was really no surprise. It wasn't that he was anti-social so much as social and he simply weren't on the same team. Of course, that meant when it was time for something important, as in subtly finding out how he should go about pursuing a romantic relationship with his new girlfriend, he had a difficult task before him. Though watching television had taught him a great many things about how the people of Earth-Prime socialized with each other, as had occasional invisible observation, he just didn't know enough. He did know some things, however; a man looking for advice on women certainly never went to his female friends, so Miss Americana, Fleur de Joie, and Dragonfly were out; he'd have to talk to the men he knew like Jack of all Blades and Gabriel. He knew how men were supposed to talk to each other, in smoky bars where sporting events were playing on the television, but one thing he didn't know was how to contact all the people he cared about directly. He'd made a conscious effort to avoid learning the secret identities of his fellow supers, which while good for his peace of mind did make it tough when he wanted to talk to them. So instead, using the new cellphone Gina had repaired for him, he sat in a quiet corner of the bar and called the contact number he'd exchanged with Jack of all Blades after they'd had a few adventures together. This was a social call, but Jack hadn't mentioned this was a line for emergencies only. Some heroes preferred only to be called for emergencies. (Some had stressed that to him specifically) "Hello, Jack?" he said, his slightly mechanical voice sounding much more confident than the last time he'd spoken to the swordsman. "It's...Steve."

APPROVED

Liberty Park proved to be a remarkably changed place once the heroes made it there via motorcycle and flight. (Sure enough, Etain felt no effects from the simulated motorcycle) All three arrived simultaneously; Sharl's rapid teleportation limited by the fact he had to fly in from the nearest wireless hubs a few blocks down from the park itself. The whole city was clearly in trouble, trees and plants gone wild as they made war on the metropolis, but Liberty Park was the most changed of all with its giant primordial forest looming high over the urban skyline nearby. There was something eerie about the giant forest to Sharl's eyes, and even to the humans there it was a bizarre sight. "All right," Citizen said, hovering by the broken-open gate like a ghost of holograms past, "I can't see anything in there, so whatever's going on has snapped all the electrical lines." He looked at the others. "I guess we're supposed to go in?" Sure enough, the forest proved to be as alien as it looked. Within moments of stepping into the forest, the three heroes lost sight of Freedom City altogether. An eerie silence hung over the green twilight in the park: no traffic noise, no urban hum, not even the sounds of woodland creatures or birds. There was nothing but silence. The air was heavy with moisture and the scent of living plants. Thick trees created a leafy canopy filtering out the sun, casting greenish shadows over the thick bed of grasses, creepers, and spongy moss covering the ground. Of the old trails, fences, and other artifacts of humanity there are no signs, as if the forest simply has swallowed them whole. Strangest of all, once inside the simulated winter outside was gone as if it never was: this was a forest frozen in an eerie summer twilight, too warm and too humid to be natural.

"I do not believe she has made your acquaintance," replied Steve a little elliptically, who was telling the truth for all that he had no idea Gina had somewhat outed herself to Viktor Archeville as a means of becoming his employee. Hmm, I do not actually know who else knows the secret. I could not simply ask Gina who else knows, as if there was something shameful about what she truly is. He was clumsy at social deception, but managed to get out "Given her nature, and mine, she prefers that I keep who she is a secret from others. What I wanted to ask you, though," he said, taking a seat and giving Viktor an intense look. "Is how a man should court a woman. I have watched your television programs extensively, but I know they do not always reflect what this world truly is."

"I appreciate the offer, Viktor. But for all that has happened...the past cannot be changed. The dead cannot be brought back to life." Harrier turned away from the broadcast of the long-gone horrors, silhouetted by some grim children's entertainment. "Those of us with regrets must remember that, if we are to be of any use to the world. What has happened has happened." He reached out to Archeville and clasped him on the shoulder briefly, his grip as always a little stiff and awkward. He coughed, and his manner changed. Steven said, "Come, let us talk of the future, not the past. I have a, ah, girlfriend now. Tell me, how has your relationship with Mona Teymourian progressed?"

Bike, no Custos, have an HP, Roo!