Avenger Assembled

29 Matched! So: All those motivations are there, but Cannonade can't tell which is the most predominant. She's definitely not being sincere about something.

The former Aryan Angel cowered at Midnight's approach, meekly submitting herself for binding and inspection. Her injuries were real, but mostly superficial. The bruises to her face looked very dramatic, but she still had all her teeth and there was no sign of enough damage to produce a hematoma. The only odd thing was a small puncture mark over her wrist, looking like an injection spot. When the last of her thugs was unconscious, she seemed to relax, as if a stage persona was fading away and the real Greta Ratner was visible beneath. "Well, I guess you got me," she winced, putting out her hands for shackling. She bit her lip and looked at all four of them. "You don't need to hit me again." Edge frowned, even Mark able to sense an imposture when he saw one. "That's not going to fool a jury, Ratner," he said firmly. "No one's going to sympathize with a Nazi supervillain from another dimension." Truthfully, Mark had a hard time thinking of anything less sympathetic. Except maybe an Omegadrone? He pushed that thought aside, though, and concentrated on glaring at Greta. "If you say so," she said with a little shrug, batting her eyes coyly. "Anyway, with all the drugs they just injected me with, I don't even know what I'm saying." And with that, another layer seemed to fall away. "Prison doesn't frighten me." Her lip turned in a cold sneer. "You people have no idea what prison is. And as for that dead girl, well, that wasn't my idea. She's the one who wasn't grateful for the world you people gave her. She was better off without it."

Fleur de Joie had dealt with people trying to break her vines before, but this one was different. While the Beekeeper had relied on guile and inventions, Madame Zero was relying on sheer overwhelming power: as she watched, the vines bowed and stretched around the ice-wielding villain, spikes of white and blue slowly, agonizingly pushing themselves out of the ice that surrounded Madame Zero. A distant scream came to the heroes' ears from the woman inside the bonds, as if she was pushing her way through with her last ounce of strength!

I think the most reasonable way to do this is have Madame Zero drop a block of ice on herself. She's got the Toughness to take it (and is bloody-minded enough to do it) and it doesn't require an attack roll. The snare is at rank 18 and her Create Object is 14. So the snare is damaged, but very much intact. Madame Zero's own save...well, I'm not really prepared to have THAT happen, so take an HP, Fleur, and we'll say she bruises herself in her effort to get out. Rene is up.

The mechanics of leaving were harder than Murdock had thought at first, given that he genuinely did have no idea where he was. He tried his usual method of dealing with being lost in Freedom City, mulishly walking forward till he found a landmark, but it wasn't easy here in this semi-suburban area where most homes looked alike. He couldn't simply fly out, since he hadn't thought to bring his disguise unit out the night before. Finally, he found a quiet cul-de-sac where the homes were half-built and changed, transforming into his armored form before using the chameleon circuits in his pike to shift to invisibility. If anyone saw an Omegadrone on the streets of Hanover that morning, it was only for a few moments as he began rocketing back towards Lincoln. For a little while, at least, he could let himself think there was a man inside the armor. It was a good morning.

Seeing her awkwardness, and remembering his own earlier, cemented Murdock’s desire to leave. This was no longer his place, and the sooner he left, the easier it would be for Gina. He was in her space, something he was acutely aware of now more than ever, and what had happened the night before had been the dark and the drink, neither of which was true right now. Well, not all that, anyway. “Thank you for last night, Gina,” he told her seriously. “It was wonderful. And I will keep my promise.” With that said, he turned and headed for the door. “I will see you at our work!”

“I...made breakfast,” said Murdock, looking stricken for a moment at the look on her face, even though he’d seen enough to know Gina’s demons were internal rather than because of him. . “I...I should go,” he offered, rising to his feet as he sussed out the situation. “I...I just wanted to make sure you were all right and that you would not...wake up alone...” he added. “Are you all right?” he added, “I brought this out for your head...” he added, offering her the glass of blue sports drink. This was not how it went on television, but on the other hand this sort of reaction to him and his deeds was something he knew how to deal with.

Of course, Murdock really had no idea how to prepare breakfast using this kind of equipment. He considered for a moment, then settled for breaking into the fresh food. Within a few minutes, he had two big bowls of fresh fruit set aside, as well as two big glasses of the Mountain Dew Gina seemed to prefer to drink. He thought for a moment about Gina’s potential hangover, then spent some time searching her refrigerator before a careful study of labels gave him some of the electrolyte-heavy sports drinks he’d heard so much about: what he’d recovered from would surely make her sick, and that wouldn’t work at all. He carried the peeled oranges and bananas into the living room and sat on the couch, looking down at the sleeping Gina a little awkwardly. With her asleep, and no doubt waking up with a hangover, crawling back onto the floor with her seemed like an invasion of privacy. It was easier to watch her, and not think about what lay outside the house. He was a very patient man.

Murdock awoke in the very early morning hours, his enhanced physiology having burned through the alcohol in his system fast enough to give him nothing more than a mild headache as he sat up, taking a few moments to remember where he was and why he was naked. Memories of the night before came flooding back, and he turned to see Gina still sleeping next to him. On the other side were his clothes: Emerson, he realized after a moment, had come and gone in the night, having washed and dried his shirt and returned it. Thinking back on the night before, he had no regrets about what they’d done, but he still blushed in a way that made his scars discolor as he began discreetly dressing. He had no idea what the etiquette was here, but his own nakedness was more embarrassing for him than anything else. Perhaps if he could get to the kitchen and make breakfast, as he’d seen on television was the right idea after nights like this...

She hadn’t turned away at the sight of him; he hadn’t hurt her as they were intimate. It was a good day, and a good night, even if you omitted the intimacy he hadn’t had in a lifetime. Despite all that, Murdock felt a moment of guilt tugging at his conscience, but as he lay close to Gina, his arms around her on the floor, he was able to push it away, along with partners past and lives lost. The guilt and responsibility of his life would be waiting for him in the morning, much less any consequences from tonight. Tonight, he had the memories of what they’d done and a woman’s body against his in the cold night. It was enough. He put his arm around Gina and closed his eyes, feeling sleep coming in. “Thank you,” he murmured softly to her in the night.

He returned her kiss with passion, his arms very strong around her waist, his skin almost fever-hot to the touch as they began the urgent business of undressing each other, the television having shifted to the late night Yule log and gone completely out of both of their attentions. Finessing the details of sex would have been challenging enough when they both were sober, as it was it took some rearranging of furniture and some drunken planning to figure out what they were doing and how they would go about doing it. It might have been easier to find Gina’s bedroom, but neither of them could break from the urgent intimacy of the moment as they pulled away clothes and tossed them aside, exploring each other for the first time. It was ultimately easiest to try the heavily carpeted floor, with the blanket beneath. Murdock was very gentle with his big, strong hands, and very careful with his body, having gone a lifetime without physical intimacy he didn’t want to ruin the moment, especially with Gina. It helped that he was strong enough to hold his weight up with one arm, and tall enough not to crush Gina in the process.

“I will never tell anyone,” promised Murdock. “Not anyone, not ever.” His heart was beating fast, and he was very drunk, but he tried to focus on the mechanics. “I weight six hundred and three pounds and I have a mutated genetic structure. I have a condom.” He had several, actually, pressed on him by Satyr during his former roommates unsuccessful attempts to get him to socialize. Safe sex classes had been part of what had gotten him able to live in the ‘real’ world, as irrelevant as they’d seemed at the time. “You’re beautiful,” he added, leaning in and kissing her on the lips for the first time. He was gentle with her, almost overly so despite his great strength, his lips brushing against hers as he held the contact.

“We’re not alone now,” replied Murdock, automatically comforting an unhappiness he didn’t really understand. He saw her wobble, and put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from falling over. “We’re here, we’re together, there’s drink and food, and company...” He fell silent, looking at Gina again, marshalling his thoughts into words. That was getting tougher, and it wasn’t because of the drinking. Murdock was not one to indulge his impulses, but tonight in a friend’s company, with both of them alone inside, it was tougher not to. It had been so long, and when he was truly honest with himself, he was so lonely. “We’re together tonight. We don’t have to be alone.” It was very warm under the blanket now, and it had nothing, and everything, to do with the body heat they were sharing.

“I like you,” said Murdock, giving her that same intent look. “You are a very likable person. You are a hero, you have a nice house, and nice robots, and you have fine drink.” He held up the bottle in his hand and took another drink, straight, then set it down to take the arrival of the hot chocolate from the ever-helpful Emerson. “And good hot chocolate!” he added. “I can drink chocolate whenever I want. It is wonderful.” He stared off into space for a moment. “I have no one to give presents to. Not the sort that they...they do on those shows,” he added with a wave towards the television. “Not to family, or friends like that.”

Between his own intoxication, and Gina’s, it wasn’t easy for Murdock to wrap his brain around the concept. “Children deserve enter...games. I am sure he will enjoy fighting dragons. Perhaps it will ed...be good for him. Combat training is always a sensible decision for young people” He blinked, catching himself rambling and not sure how to stop. “Why no name? Won’t your nephew desire to want to know that it was you who gave him the present?” He didn’t mind sharing the blanket with Gina; sharing body heat was an intimate gesture he appreciated. He certainly was warm to the touch, slightly warmer than a human being thanks to his internal power cells. His hand came down on hers, a gentle touch. “It is very important,” he informed her, looking deep into her eyes, “to be connected to the people you want to connect with.”

“Why don’t we just...just sit down,” said Murdock, who couldn’t quite make his tongue spell out how he felt about Gina buying him new furniture. So instead they settled onto the couch together, his shirt still gone, as Christmas movies played on the television. It was late at night now, late enough that the abstract puppet shows about the war between the Heat Miser and the Snow Miser were at best a distraction from the woman he shared the couch with. He wasn’t sure of what to say, so instead he simply settled in next to her.

“So I am,” replied Murdock, feeling an unaccustomed warmth that had nothing to do with the strong Farsider drink. Or perhaps it did; he wasn’t nearly sober enough to judge. “You know, Gina...” His voice trailed off, licking his lips awkwardly as he obviously puzzled out the next thing he would say. “I am sorry for the mess in your house.” He reached out and awkwardly patted her on the arm, his hand not going away afterwards, instead just resting above her elbow. “How...can I make it up to you?” he asked her warmly.

When she came back, Murdock had taken the hint and removed his shirt, leaving it on the table after several failed attempts to fold it neatly. “Thank you,” he said when she came back with the towels, dabbing distractedly at the big stain on his shirt. Gina’d seen his scans, she’d seen his scars already, and knew what lay underneath, but she hadn’t had a chance to see his solid, muscular build underneath except in a clinical setting, not right there in her living room. “I think...I think it is mostly caught,” he said, tongue stumbling over the words. Normally he’d hardly have taken the shirt off, but he couldn’t get the stuff on Gina’s couch. Besides, she’d seen him before. “I suppose I can wear it back once it has dried. Or go without.”

“My accent is not like yours. Language is not in the Terminus as it is here. So I speak very precisely when I am drunk or otherwise intoxicated, so that I do not sound strange. I have not been drunk before.” He did not want to dwell on the Terminus, so instead he poured himself another drink too, this time watering it with Mountain Dew. “You should not try and compete with me in drinking,” he offered without any real force behind it. “My stamina is far greater than a human being’s. But there is no one else I would rather be drinking with,” he offered. “Not tonight. We earned this bottle, these bottles, and all that comes with them!” On the television, a Burl Ives Christmas special was coming on now that it was so late, and Murdock raised his glass. “Here’s to-oh!” He’d spilled Mountain Dew on the glass while pouring it, and the mug slipped from his fingers and spilled, pouring all over his shirt and immediately soaking through. It was cold, and he stared at his wet torso in baffled surprise for a moment, sitting up to keep from spilling on the couch.

Hearing her talk like that was appealing to the very relaxed Murdock; Miss Americana had always intimidated him with her beauty, but the woman behind the woman was far more interesting, particularly when he himself was feeling very...interesting. “Yes. Yes, I will do that.” He slowly wandered into the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe as he did so. It took him a few moments to find his way around in the kitchen, and there was the smell of cooking food in Gina’s microwave. He came back with two two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew, balancing one under his arm, and carrying a plate of Gina’s hot wings. He set the food down, and the drink, and sat next to Gina again. He forgot the food for a moment, and studied Gina. “You have a nice voice,” he said after thinking on it, before turning back to his food. “It is different than I have heard before.”

“To your health.” Murdock took another drink, a long one, the green Farsider ale burning like fire on the way down. He coughed, then took a moment to compose himself. “I am sure there are many heroes who can de-defend the city in our absence,” he said, too-precisely. “It will be fine.” He reached down and took a few bites of Doritos, hmming at the taste of the familiar luxury item. “I cannot remember when I was this drunk. I will have to thank Star Knight for this. I did not think she would remember me this well. I do not often lower my inhibitions in this way,” he added, almost apologetically.

“Hello, Gina,” said Murdock, who at first didn’t seem drunk at all until Gina saw him walk into the room, carefully measuring his steps as if he was worried he’d fall down. He joined her on the couch and placed his bottle on the little coffee table: where she’d been drinking hers watered-down and was drunk from a quarter and a bit more, he’d been drinking his straight and was tipsy from half. “Your robot was very efficient. You should reward him. Merry Christmas,” he offered, tipping his bottle against her drink, his hands shaking a little. “That is the traditional toast, I believe?”

Truthfully, as drunk as he was, Murdock would have been hard-pressed to retrace even a straight route back to his apartment. He didn’t think about that, though, or anything else as he thanked the robot with grave courtesy, then slowly and carefully picked his way across the concrete floor to the interior door that led into what had to be Gina’s house. He knocked firmly, not wanting to surprise her, as he cradled the bottle in his other arm. “Gina!” he called, “I am here! May I come in?” He leaned his head against the door having asked, taking a little while to compose himself.

The sight of a robot driving a car was by no means the strangest one Murdock had ever seen, even on the streets of Freedom City. The thought that it might be illegal for one machine to drive another was alien to him, and anyway it wasn’t as if he could drive a car himself, especially drunk! He’d seen enough concerned public service announcements to know that. Instead he smiled at the robot and sat in the passenger seat, slowly and deliberately buckling himself in as the car accelerated off into the night. “Hello, Emerson,” he said after considering the boxy robot for a few moments. He wondered irrationally if this was how Protectron made a living, perhaps with a false mechanical face. “Are you able to talk?” he asked. “Or can Gina see me through you?”

Trusting Gina to know what she was doing, even drunk, Murdock nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him. “Yes, yes, I will be down in the lobby with the bottle. I have a large brown paper sack from my groceries. I will use that. I will see you soon.” He hung up, realized he had no idea what Emerson looked like, and finally trusted that Gina’s messenger (not her sidekick, whose name he knew, would recognize him. And with that, pulling on a sweater against the chill outside (not wanting to look strange), he headed down to the lobby to wait.