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Avenger Assembled

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Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide

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  1. Avenger Assembled
    Rayford opened the door partway, caught by the chain lock, only his face visible as he peered through the crack at the three heroes outside. "Who are you? What do you want?" The child welfare agent didn't look very happy to see them, especially once he recognized them as superheroes. Before the heroes could answer, a high, childish voice came from behind him. "Who is it, Daddy? Is it superheroes?" He called out his assent to someone behind them, "Let them in, Daddy! I want to see!" Rayford closed his eye for a moment, his face tight, before reluctantly unlocking the door and letting the heroes into his house. The Johnson residence was musty and unkempt, smelling like a place where things were swept under the rug rather than thrown away. Johnson himself looked shabby, with a half-week's growth of beard and clothes long-slept in, and only reluctantly did he gesture to let the heroes inside. Waiting for them, and looking much more colorful, was the smiling figure of his daughter Chloe, a perfect-looking little girl without a blonde hair out of place. "Hello!" she said with a perfect shiny smile. "I'm Chloe!"
  2. Avenger Assembled
    The Clockwatcher and Professor Danger exchanged a look. With something of a sigh, the clock-carrying man sat down, turning the briefing over to the laser-armed woman in green. Looking considerably more cheerful than the somewhat dour temporal guardian, Danger expostulated, "Well, ah, actually the Observatory is just that, a place for keeping track of time travelers, rather than a going-and-coming place for them." She stood up and pressed a few buttons on the wall, the image smoothly transferring to a picture of a black dome as large as the Hunter estate, perched on a low barren hill beneath an alien grey sky. "That's why we put it on Venus; not much human activity there to interfere with the tachyon matrix!" she added cheerily. "The Observatory won't be focused on the early 21st century," the Clockwatcher spoke up to reassure the heroes' earlier concerns. "With the fallout that's coming from a few months before you, there'd be too much temporal leakage anyway. The only way you'd be able to alter the timeline is if you tamper with the machinery, which I know," he added with a significant look at the others, "is not something any of you will do, or if you fail in your mission. As for someone from a different timeline...well, we're keeping an eye out." He smiled thinly. "If you're worried about the people you've been entangled with recently, that situation has been resolved."
  3. Avenger Assembled
    Sharl is doing what he describes himself as doing IC, using the Datalink in his Tronik array to pull it off.
  4. Avenger Assembled
    "I'm contacting them now, sir," said Citizen without hesitation at Summers' words. He had his laptop out, the electronic rather than physical one, and was tapping away at the keys, foot resting on his projector. "I sent an emergency message to the local police station via wireless. Right now I'm getting in touch with the Freedom League through Miss Americana's direct line. They say they have magical," he couldn't resist making air quotes at the world, "specialists on retainer for dealing with this. Is everybody okay?" he called out, looking over at Koshiro and the other students who'd taken hits in this last big fight.
  5. Avenger Assembled
    The past comes back to haunt our heroes as they deal with a very personal manifestation of the Terminus.
  6. Avenger Assembled
    February 2012 Outside of his brief experience with interplanetary kidnapping, Harrier wasn't around much over January. Steve Murdock went to work and socialized with the other security guards at HAX, occasionally volunteering his expertise for experiments that had something to do with the Terminus or extradimensional radiation, but generally he was focused on one particular moment: the evening he'd shared with Gina Evans back in December. In a lifetime walking carefully between the fires of grief and despair, a moment of emotional connection, even friendship, deeper than the casual, too-easy acceptance that so many of the city's heroes so prided themselves on giving him, had been something to reach out for. So every day, instead of his usual evening of watching television or taking extra shifts at HAX, whenever he wasn't needed to help deal with an emergency as Caradoc or Harrier, he walked the streets of Freedom City, triangulating on his goal. He'd done things slow and methodically the way he usually did, carefully comparing his own walking pace to the likely traveling speed of a car in winter, carefully measuring out where likely turns had gone, and generally doing his level best to trace the residence of the mysterious woman he just had to see again. He could just have called Miss Americana, of course, but with how firmly she protected her operator's privacy, he doubted she'd simply hand the number over. No, he'd have to find her and see her again, and tell her that he wanted to have something more, and then...well, after a month of searching and a frank acknowledgement of his own weaknesses, he wasn't sure what he'd do next. Perhaps he'd go to one of the men he knew like Jack of all Blades, Victory, or Gabriel (or perhaps all three!) and try and figure out how a man should court a woman. He'd managed to narrow things down to Hanover, a prosperous district of scientists and engineers, walking past Internet cafes and small bookshops on his hunt, even to a particular block in that neighborhood, but things had gotten much more complicated after that. The houses around here all resembled each other quite strongly, and he hadn't seen Gina's house well enough in the dark to recognize it specifically. If he'd come on his own account, he'd simply have knocked on every door, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself here. He'd had one bad moment a couple of days earlier when he'd picked what he thought was the right house, screwed up his courage, only to find inside a cordial disabled man and his helpful caregiver sibling who'd been nothing but sympathetic but had no idea how to help find a neighbor, especially one who Steve didn't quite dare name. He'd been stopped by the police and questioned, even, his unusual appearance having attracted the wrong sort of attention, but he'd managed to talk his way out of trouble. So he'd come back to this district and this block and was walking it again with his slow, methodical stride, studying every house with increasing frustration. Today looked at first like it wasn't going to be any different than any other day; he'd passed a few community parks with milling crowds unusual for the weather, he'd been conscious of a chill in the air he didn't recognize, but for the moment all that was on his mind was a leaking feeling of unease. Perhaps all of this has been a mistake. Perhaps it wasn't going to work. Not one for giving up despite all hazards, he sat down on the sidewalk on one particular street and began studying the houses, deep in thought.
  7. Avenger Assembled
    "Offense and defense, and strategy to go with them. Hmm." Harper paced, or rather swaggered bombastically, as she went up and down the runway, her eyes on the two women. Sharl had made an appearance, more so no one was suspicious of the missing man than anything else, but the humble holographic projection was something anyone on the runway was focused on thanks to the spectacular displays from Lady Laser and Gateway. Having considered carefully for a moment, she finally cocked her head towards her guards, who dragged the terrified prisoner onto the runway to join the new arrivals. "You're right, Lady Laser," the colonel conceded gracefully, "we've had to hold much of our best in reserve these last few days. This man you see is a traitor," she said, indicating the prisoner who was shaking his head vigorously in denial, "A man who betrayed his nation, betrayed his people, betrayed our _cause_ in the name of a foreign terrorist group. He has told us nothing, and denied it all, but we have the evidence we need. How would you suggest we deal with him?" "Please," the man begged, "I am no traitor! Those discs were forged, whatever the camera says! I sent no message!"
  8. Avenger Assembled
    Clockwatcher actually could give a detailed answer to that one, at least as much as time and circumstance allowed. "The 2500s, and most eras of comparable technology, use tachyon generators and dispersal fields to create temporal defense grids. Long story short, they're why local unauthorized time travel is impossible. Anyone who tries to jump into an era where a grid is up and running gets shunted back to where they came from within a picosecond of their arrival, leaving a trail big enough to us to follow back if necessary. We think that's one reason our mark had to go so far back." "So what you're saying is," said Mark, putting the pieces together slowly, "You can't probe the alternate timeline too closely because whoever's living on Earth in the other 2500s, they have the same kind of temporal defense network you have. So they know about time travel, and they have your level of technology." He hmmed at that, trying to think about it as Clockwatcher nodded. "What I want to do with your team is put your boots on the ground in the Temporal Observatory," the Clockwatcher went on. "Everything will be locked down so you won't be able to cause a paradox on your own. But you will be able to stop the thief from stealing our artifact and going back to destroy all of our histories." "And the saboteur?" Mark probed delicately. As he'd expected, the local heroes looked uncomfortable at that. Finally, Professor Danger offered, "We're looking into that now. Members of the Legion have been subverted before, but those people....wouldn't work for someone from an alternate quantum timeline."
  9. Avenger Assembled
    Edge didn't have that information handy (he rarely did), but he knew Midnight had the pictures and records from the autopsy, so while that was being handled he concentrated on talking to the Russian heroes. "Hey, I was just doing my job," he said, the nature of his work meaning he wasn't even dissembling. "I'm officially not here on UNISON business," he added honestly, "but I'll remember next time I am if you're able to help us out with this." He spread his hands. "As you know, there's still a lot of secrecy about what happened in this country during the Cold War, even about things that have nothing to do with defending Russia." He looked at Morning Star and Crimson Bomb and went on, "Have there been incursions by entities like that in Russia that any of yo are aware of?"
  10. Avenger Assembled
    Who's going where? Note that a helpful, if frightened, civilian NPC is there to help answer questions. Sharl is currently flying at Flight 5, normal movement.
  11. Avenger Assembled
    Sharl turned and pressed his hands against the wall, his eyes shifting to a glowing green that made his sister blanch uncomfortably: Sieva had seen this before, but she didn't like it much. "I'm interfacing with today's matrix...there's a block up in the plankton processing centers along the coast, one by the broadcast center. another in the oxygen recyclers to the north, and one near militia headquarters. Those have to be where she and her-" Suddenly, an eerie alien wail came from the 'coffee-table' in the center of the room and Sieva's sculpture abruptly winked out. Replacing it was an translucent skyscraper like the other massive buildings in Tronik, Lor script floating in the air around it, flashing by too fast for the translation program to catch up before finally blinking red letters resolved into SECURITY BREACH: SECTOR 87. "Sector 87, that's the...broadcast center!" said Sharl, trying to keep one step ahead of his antagonist. "Damn, she was too fast! We've got to get moving, people!" He crossed to the window Sage had been staring out of and exclaimed "Open!" And sure enough, the transparent plasteel irised open almost organically at his command, exposing them all to the massive industrial metropolis outside, the air cold enough to explain why everyone wore leather jackets hereabouts. "Let's go, so we can-" But for the moment, Rogue still had the initiative, because even as Citizen's chest symbol flared to life in brilliant electric blue, the image of the skyscraper was replaced by an all-too-familiar face: Rogue was snarling and gesturing at the holo-camera, making it look for all the world like she was threatening Corbin before she said, "-and if you turn it on, I'll pulp you as hard as I did them!" There was screaming behind her, and the sound of crunching metal; a scene of industrial carnage just visible behind the leather-clad woman. When the cameraman's nerves stilled, Rogue straightened her jacket and stared into the camera, her eyes invisible behind her heavy shades. "People of Tronik. My name is Rogue." There was an echo in her voice that it took Sharl a terrible moment to realize was coming from outside, from the screens built into the walls of the building. Terribly, she was everywhere. "I am here to tell you that your hero, Citizen, is nothing but a liar in league with the alien savages who have seized control of our future." "C'mon! I know the way!" Ever-impulsive, Sharl responded by rocketing out of the open window towards Sector 87, the air cracking with speed as the electronic teenager flew like the cannonshot he was in his native land. Those who lingered in the building heard the remainder of Rogue's message. "-to tell you that this is the dawn of a new age. An age where we can be emancipated from this alien prison cell and take back a reality that is rightfully ours. Today is the day of our liberation. Today is the day their world will fall!" And with that, the 'line' went dead, the whirling hologram replaced with a pleasant green fog that was the color of the sky on a good day.
  12. Avenger Assembled
    "New Freedom's a paradise if you've got superpowers and the smarts to use them right," agreed Sandstone, walking up and down the aisle as she gave the two mercenaries a closer look. "But some people don't like paradise. 'Specially the ones who can't hack it there." She gave them both sharp, piercing looks, but seemed satisfied with what she saw. "We've been having some problems with Europeans lately. You may hear about it, if you make it in." She shrugged, her massive shoulders making a shifting sound beneath her uniform like two sandbags. "As for what tests you take, that's up to Colonel Harper. She and her family have kept the riff-raff out of New Freedom as long as most of the locals have been alive. They have a pretty keen eye." And with that, she went back to flying, leaving the edgy Sui Li to tend to the needs of the passengers. New Freedom didn't look particularly glamorous from the air, even once they'd touched down at the nation's only surface airport: most of the buildings, they knew, were built deeply underground to take advantage of the geothermal heat available thanks to the nearby volcano. Sandstone led the way down the plane's walkway, escorting the mercenaries down onto the black runway where their Jeep escort was waiting for them. The biting Antarctic winds were kept dimmed by weather control powers and machines here; it was no worse than Freedom City in February as they headed for the jeeps. Before they could quite reach them, though, suddenly a group of people exited the Jeeps in a hurry: a contingent of armored guards surrounding the bereted, eyepatch-wearing figure of the Patriotic Colonel in her familiar gaudy-decorated fatigues, and another, smaller group carrying a terrified, struggling man in prisoner's fatigues. Sandstone snapped to attention with respect at the sight of the Colonel, who nodded for her to be at ease. "So. Gateway, Lady Laser, and assistant," said Lian Harper, her voice an accented hiss as she looked the two women up and down. "Your files both say you're the best at what you do. That's good, because this is the best country there is. We're standing on the new age," she went on, a messianic look in her good eye, "a place where men and women with superpowers never need to fear the censor, the bluenose, the coward, the baseline. What can you give this place?"
  13. Avenger Assembled
    She fails anyway, so woo!
  14. Avenger Assembled
    Go ahead and give me a Bluff check here, Fox. (Since she's telling tall tales in a way Miss A isn't)
  15. Avenger Assembled
    "Rick Lucas and the Centurion belong to the 20th century," replied the Clockwatcher levelly, giving Erin, then the two downtime heroes a hard-to-read look as he repeated what had evidently already been said. "Potentially altering their lives via an encounter with a time traveler would have tremendous repercussions for the 21st century and its heroes." He fixed Mark with his gaze, looking sympathetic for a moment, before turning back to the others. "In layman's terms, their destinies have already been established by history. Yours haven't." "That's...that makes sense," said Mark, shooting a look from behind his mask first at the Centurion, then at his father. "In the era we're from, Rick Lucas and the Centurion are heroes of the past. That's why we took the name. To honor that generation." For a moment his hand tightened on the table in front of him, and he was heedless of past and future. "Hey, I'm a hero! Neat." Rick looked quite pleased with himself at that news, though not surprised. "Not as big as you are, sir!" he added immediately to the Centurion with a wink.
  16. Avenger Assembled
    Sidhe Weapon Master Abilities: 36 pp STR 14 (+2) DEX 18 (+4) CON 18 (+4) INT 14 (+2) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 26/16 (+8/+3) Combat: 30 pp ATK: +7 (+13 Ranged) (+15 Bow) DEF: +13 (+4 flat-footed) Init: +12 Grapple: +9 Saves: 10 pp TOU +7 (+4 Con, +3 Protection) FORT +7 (+4 Con, +3) REF +7 (+4 Con, +3) WILL +7 (+3 Wis, +4) Skills: 18 pp=72 r Acrobatics 11 (+15, Skill Mastery) Bluff 12 (+20, Skill Mastery) Diplomacy 7 (+15) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 3 (+5) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 3 (+5) Intimidate 12 (+20, Skill Mastery) Language 1 (English; Base [Celtic]) Notice 12 (+15, Skill Mastery) Stealth 11 (+15) Survival 2 (+5) Feats: 22 pp Accurate Attack Acrobatic Bluff All-Out Attack Attack Focus: Ranged 6 Attack Specialization: Bows 1 Hide in Plain Sight Improved Initiative 2 Luck 2 Move-By Action Power Attack Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Bluff, Intimidate, Notice) Startle Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 34 pp Damage 3 (Extra: Ranged, PFs: Improved Crit 2, Improved Range 3 [1 5000 ft range increment]. Mighty 2) 'fae longbow' [13 pp] Fae Array [10+2=12 pp] Enhanced Charisma 10 (to CHA 26/+8) AP: Emotion Control 10 (Flaw: Sense-Dependent [visual]) AP: Mind Control 10 (Flaw: Sense-Dependent [visual]) Flight 1 (PF: Subtle) [3 pp] Protection 3 [3 pp] Super-Senses 3 (Vision [extended] 3 (x1000)) [3 pp] costs abilities 36 + combat 30 + saves 10 + skills 18/72 + feats 22 + powers 34 = 150 pts ------------------------------------------------------------- Design Notes: Here's another one in my series of Changeling: The Dreaming conversions; in this case of a sidhe, the lords and ladies of the Changeling universe. The sidhe are jerks in the grand tradition of the Fair Folk, beautiful princes and princesses who destroyed the democratic fae republic that existed up until the 1970s and re-established a nasty monarchy whose dying grip on fae culture is one of the reasons that the Dreaming itself is dying. (At least, depending on your interpretation of the books!) There were some good guy sidhe, though, people who recognized that being nobility sometimes meant you could actually be noble! Taking a lead from the way the sidhe usually fight, as well as Legolas from Lord of the Rings, I've gone ahead and made this guy a fast, beautiful archer with a magic bow that never goes away. He's a great shot, his superhuman visual acuity letting him pick the wings off a fly from hundreds of feet away. His extreme force of personality and incredible good looks let him crush the will of his enemies through a wide variety of ways. (He's also fast enough to reliably fool mindless creatures who otherwise wouldn't be impressed by his supernatural mojo) His max tradeoff may not seem that impressive, but since he can power attack basically every time and do it from a great range, he's a very serious threat in a fight. He hits his caps if he has to pick up a mundane bow for whatever reason, too. Like Doc's Psychic Ninja, his Flight represents the sort of supernatural (in his case magic) physical acuity that lets him walk along snowbanks without sinking in or running up the sides of an elephant. Mechanically, he's similar to Gloriana, another Algernon Files character I like: she was basically Susan from the Chronicles of Narnia as a superhero; a Blitz evacuee who was imbued as a champion of Fae in order to keep the most uncreative Nazis from overrunning Britain: if you do like the Golden Age connection, add more History and/or an Immunity to aging to make him either a legacy character or the original. Otherwise, origins-wise, he works fine as a generic fae, either an ambassador from Avalon (or a castaway), or perhaps he's a changeling all grown up who has balanced his fae heritage with the human world where he lives.
  17. Avenger Assembled
    Mark is dropping a nice DC 30 Diplomacy check there as the right hand.
  18. Avenger Assembled
    "" said Mark in fluent Russian, the carrot to Midnight and Redbird's stick with smooth grace, "" he went on, indicating the rest of the team to the World War II veteran before them. "
  19. Avenger Assembled
    The heroes plunged again into the darkened forest, ever-watchful now of the jungle and the dangers it posed to them. Unable to be as stealthy as the two shapeshifters, Harrier took the lead as beater for himself and the other cyborg, hacking away at the jungle with the energized edge of a power pike with a faint sizzle. Eventually the staring sun overhead slipped past the mountains, the true night settling in all around them. His nerves on a razor's edge, Harrier kept his ears open, the roar of the jungle around them masking any approaching threats. They could all see well enough in the darkness, but for all that he was acutely conscious of how vulnerable they all were. After hours of silent trekking, they found signs they weren't the first to walk that way: across the flank of a nearby thick, heavy tree was a sheet of thick, heavy ash and fibers in a vaguely humanoid shape, one that Harrier had to only study for a moment before knowing what it looked like all too well. "Grue. Killed by energy weapons."
  20. Avenger Assembled
    Blackwell promised to keep in touch, and the heroes made their way via plant and picture to the Rayford Johnson house. Johnson and his daughter Chloe lived in a suburban cul-de-sac in Ashton, a new development that had been left unfinished after the housing bubble had burst some years earlier. There were several vacant lots and half-built homes around, and the only occupied house was way down at the other end of the street. There was something sad about the Johnson home as they approached, the paint was peeling and the grass overgrown and dead, if not for the car in the drive and the lights on inside, the house might have looked abandoned.
  21. Avenger Assembled
    "My mother doesn't cook," said Sharl to Corbin, fighting the unhelpful urge to explain that she didn't ride horseback or churn butter. Stressed as he was, this was no time for another argument with Corbin about the material culture of interstellar civilizations against that of Earth-Prime. After all, how could he defend the superiority of his civilization when they were threatened by a madwoman and her friends with only Young Freedom standing in her way? "It's the middle of the day, anyway, she's probably at work in the hospital. If anyone's home, it'll be my sister Sieva. She's, uh, twenty-four by your calendar, she's a holo-artist." He shook his head in response to Koshiro, and replied, "They know I come and go, and it can't be helped. It's supposed to be for a higher purpose." He managed a half-smile for Kimber as he thought through Sage, "" To Sage herself, he added, "" A quick walk through crowded but silent corridors with featureless walls got the teens to Sharl's front door. Sharl paused for a moment, composed himself, and placed his hand against the doorpad. "Sharl Tulink," the wall said gently. "You have been away for 3.57 years." And with that the door slid open, and Sharl stepped inside. Despite the tremendous bulk of the massive buildings here, the Tulink family dwelling was small: no bigger than a smallish two-bedroom apartment in Freedom City. Where there were no visible doors in exterior walls, on the inside almost every room was visible: a big master bed in a room on one end and a smaller one at the other, and a big central room with what looked like a tiny, smooth-walled kitchenette, the far wall gone transparent to show the nearest massive structure miles away. Despite the small size of the room, the giant window gave it a feeling of space, along with ceilings cast much higher than they would be on Earth. A half-finished abstract assembly of shapes and colors occupied the middle of the room, a symphony of red, greens, and deeper colors like an ultraviolet Christmas tree, and just turning from her work was Sieva Tulink, who with her tall frame and high-cheekboned face showed a softer cast of what Sharl might look like after puberty. "Sharl!" she said with the first real volume they'd heard from someone in Tronik, immediately crossing to her brother and embracing him. "Why are you here? Who are your friends?" Sharl made fast introductions, the local woman staring in fascination at these exotic aliens, even reaching out to pat Kimber's hair. "An outsider, that terrorist I told you about, has broken back into Tronik. And she's brought friends with her. I had to make sure you and Mom and Dad were all right, then I, uh, we, have to find Leroj and try and catch Rogue." "Mom and Dad are fine, as far as I know," said Sieva worriedly, "Mom's at work, and Dad's at the militia control center in Sector 1. They're having communications blackouts off-island, but I don't think they've said anything about terrorists..." she said doubtfully.
  22. Avenger Assembled
    Citizen nodded in satisfaction, glad to see that the duo had gone ahead and taken Collins out on their own. "Better keep that on Collins just to be safe," he called to Papercut as he flew through the air. "We don't need her getting loose when our backs are turned!" Still in the air, he engaged one of the Dark Young in hand-to-hand combat again, its flailing limbs whipping uselessly through his holographic body as he landed a magnetically-backed punch against a soft, sensitive part that squished under his blow in a way that didn't bear much thinking about. "We've almost got 'em!"
  23. Avenger Assembled
    Mark is going to pop them (or just himself over, if others want to stay and research) to the Peoples' Heroes headquarters in Moscow, where he'll use his massive Diplomacy and Bluff, as well as his Connected feat, to get favors enough to get the team access to classified Soviet archives.
  24. Avenger Assembled
    The autopsy had left Edge unsettled, especially in the wake of the grim findings about the life and unlife of the man who'd died. After his experiences on Erin's homeworld, the idea of using dead bodies as puppets was particularly galling to the usually-cheerful teen, but for the most part he'd been able to wrap that up as the particular odiousness of the Terminus. The idea that someone on Earth-Prime could be that evil, maybe somebody inside a government, was appalling to all his sensibilities. "If the Spetznatz did fight the Color we saw, or if the Soviet government did use it for their own purposes, we're not going to find a lot of evidence in the US. What does exist is probably going to be in paper records, or in heads, in Russia...and I think I know people who can help with that. I have some contacts inside the Peoples' Heroes. I think we need to take a trip."
  25. Avenger Assembled
    "Our probes into the other timeline haven't gone very well," explained Clockwatcher irritably. "It looks like someone's been active in the intervening centuries releasing more radioactivity, or maybe the destruction of Freedom City used more cobalt-wrapped charges than we've been predicting. The 2500s over there are so irradiated most normal humans can't survive on the surface for more than a few minutes, and whoever's running the Earth after that has a temporal defense network erected." He harrumphed. "Our theory is that they're uptimers, from one future or another, with an interest in making Earth a radioactive cinder." "Why is...why are the Centurion and Rick Lucas here?" Mark finally asked, only his friends knowing Mark well enough to hear the shaky tremor in his voice. Rick, by some blessing, hadn't recognized his yet to be born son; instead he was listening to the Clockwatcher with a distracted air that was painfully reminiscent of his son. Evidently global crises and beyond were already old hat for Mark's dad. "I'll take this one," answered the Centurion, a serious look on his face. "Clockwatcher here tells me that certain individuals are keystones in the flow of history, people whose lives are so important that keeping them away from any temporal anomalies is the top priority of any time traveler-" "We're wild cards, daddy-o!" interjected Rick excitedly, his choice of words making Mark wince, the Centurion lapsing with the air of a man tolerant of a friend's foibles. "If we show up around this time traveler guy, there's no telling what'll happen! So it's better for you cats to go out there and make history tidy again."
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