Avenger Assembled

Citizen: 3 pp Dimensional Movement 2 (any 'computer' dimension) (Flaw: Medium [computers]]) [2 pp] -This represents Sharl going to and from Tronik and other 'computer' dimensions, adding in the difficulty of navigating a complex network. +3 ranks of Bluff [1 pp] Add Language (Swedish) Doktor'd!

"Erin..." Archer looked like he was struggling for words for a moment before he spoke. "Everything you've done over the last few years shows me a student who can not only learn from her mistakes, but grow from them. You've gone from one of the students I worried about the most to one of the students I'm the most proud of, and you've tested yourself against the kinds of things that even most teenage superheroes never deal with. When you first came here, I didn't have the experience I do now with working with students who have a background like yours. I didn't give you the respect or the education that you deserved. All of my students are unique, and forgetting that was one of the biggest mistakes I've made as an educator. You haven't just grown past your own mistakes, you've grown past mine as well."

"I'm sure you'll pass," Archer told her with the reassuring awkwardness of any high school teacher trying to relate to his senior students. "You've already come much further than most of your colleagues, and I don't mean the physical distance you traveled." He hmmed at that, seeming to sense that he hadn't reassured Erin. "Sit down, Erin," he said, trying to make it a suggestion. "And relax. I'm not going to criticize anything you did today. You've already gotten the polish you're going to get in high school. You don't need to hear anything more from me about combat."

"I can do that," agreed Sharl immediately, thinking sympathetically about that poor little girl Gina had told him about before his trip to Tronik. "I mean, even if I never had a flesh body, I know what it's like to be digitized." He'd forgotten something of that faint feeling of disconnection that marked being in his hologram body; it wasn't actually unpleasant as such, just odd. "Is she going to be projected?" he asked, "Or just in a computer? Either way, it's good it's just for a couple of days. Do I need to learn Swedish?" he asked her. "I mean, I can just look it up with that fish translator thing, but it'll still be strange for her. I was lucky you were able to teach me English."

As his standard action, Freedom Angel pops an HP to activate Ultimate Diplomacy. That's 25 with the Combat Diplomacy penalty. (Hmm, should think about buying that challenge...) As his move action, he lands between Thrude/Doctor Archeville and Fenris, ready to Interpose on behalf of the former two if necessary.

From out of the ice and snow came an angel, bearing in one hand the flaming sword of truth, and over one arm the unbreakable shield of justice. When Freedom Angel landed, he popped his wings out with a "woosh!", scattering the falling snow all around him as a circle of glowing yellow light shone over his head in a gleaming halo. He was close to Doctor Archeville and Thrude, his spread wings partially blocking the great dire wolf's view of the heroic pair. The angel was all light in the darkness of the storm, for all that Heyzel was as cold as anyone else would be in this supernatural chill, facing down the great symbol of winter's darkness and hunger. "Fenris Lokison!" he pronounced in the perfect Old Norse of the Eddas as he pointed his sword at the wolf's face. He knew enough about the so-called Norse gods to be intimately aware of how outmatched he was against this great abomination, but he faced it fearlessly all the same. He certainly is very large... "Thou art in violation of the holy oaths sworn even by thy dark father that dwells below. I call on you, Father of Skoll, Father of Hati, to remember who you are. Does the mighty slayer-to-come of Odin sully himself with the blood of children and innocents when the terrible foes of his lifesblood yet walk the halls of Asgard? Begone from this place of mortals, and war with those worthy of the Fenriswulf!"

Zap is up

I'm fine with him catching him flat-footed, since Crow is coming out of nowhere! 18. I won't Fiat it; there are still plenty of bad guys in the fight for drama, and Crow's strategy deserves a reward. Heka failed by 9, so he's bruised and stunned. 11 and 20 He starts falling (but his Force Field stays up) Go ahead and post IC: don't forget that Heka is flying, so you can't kick him into the ground...this turn, anyway! ;)

"Things have been going great," agreed Sharl with a smile. "My family's happy to have me back, of course, and I'm just about caught up on all my schooling. And the city...well, now there are 'Net sites all about _me_." He grinned broadly at that. "Now I'm the paranormal thing people can't stop talking about. They just call me the 'Citizen'" Sobering a little, he added honestly, "I missed this place. Knowing there's so much outside Tronik and being the only person there besides Leroj who really _can_ know...my mind keeps coming back here. And to you," he admitted. "That's why I was so eager to come. What can I do to help?"

"Well, you see," said Freedom Angel seriously in response to Nick's question, "in the beginning the Earth was without form, and void..." He chuckled a little, then added, "But seriously, Fleur, I've been impressed with that as well. I've met people from dead Earths, both here and on other planes, and what you're doing is very special, and you have every right to feel pride for it. Not just anyone can breathe life into a whole planet the way you've been doing, or make the lives of so many innocents better. Giving people something besides survival is the beginning of giving them their spiritual lives back."

Mr. Archer's office was relatively spacious thanks to Claremont's big budget, but for all that looked like your typical high school gym teacher's space. there were the usual rows of filing cabinets full of school records, the pictures of school teams on the wall in their uniforms, and of course a few athletic trophies from years past. Claremont hadn't really competed with other schools since 1993, but Archer was evidently still honoring those teams from the school's past. There were signs around that this was no ordinary gym teacher, though: some of the students in the more recent pictures were flying or showing other signs of superpowers, and of course there were a few pictures of Mr. Archer in costume as well. He had never really made a secret of the fact that he had once been Hot Rod, one of the fastest men in the 1970s, and on the wall there were a few discreet pictures of him in the open-chested jumpsuit he'd once worn. Erin didn't pay much mind to those, though, not with Mr. Archer himself standing behind his desk. "Come in, Erin. Leave the door open." For all that Erin was much, much more dangerous to Mr. Archer than he was to her, Claremont obeyed the same regulation as any other licensed high school. "How are your classes going this term?" he asked her. "Senioritis setting in yet, or are you powering through?"

In late May, just a couple of weeks before Claremont's graduation, Mr. Archer took Erin aside after a particularly vigorous Doom Room workout. She'd been fighting simulations of nearly the entire Crime League solo, and though her costume was a little singed, she'd given as good as she got. "Erin," he said with that informality that only teachers could get away with. "Good hustle down there. I liked how you handled the bat when you hit Wildcard with Orion. Hit the showers, then join me in my office. I'll give you a note for history." She'd had some idea that Mr. Archer had a private office, most of the teachers did, but he'd never mentioned it to her. She'd certainly never gotten an invitation back there. Really, the whole conversation was strange: Mr. Archer usually only came down to talk to her when she'd been working out with another student.

"I'm available," agreed Sharl readily. "I told my parents I'd be gone a couple of days, and they won't be worried." Well, no more worried than any other parents would be under the circumstances. "No one can see me here, I'm on top of the sector building." Though he knew it made no sense, Sharl looked up at the green sky overhead and said into the phone, "I'm ready." Thanks to the emulator Gina had built into him, the transit wasn't the descent into madness that it had once been: a cascade of light built up all around him, he heard a wavering noise and saw a shimmer in the air, and soon he was 'reconstituting' himself in the very familiar surroundings of the Lab.

Tronik May 15, 2011 (Earth calendar) A month into his career as an independent hero, Citizen stood on the roof of Sector 30 waiting for Gina's return call. He'd stayed busy reconnecting with his family, explaining to everyone that he'd run away to join the plankton fleet but returned when he realized his mistake, and gotten back among his friends and back to his education. But somehow those friends didn't seem so close these days, and his education just a little less relevant when there was so much of the real world to deal with. He'd stayed busy flying scouting expeditions for Leroj to verify the correct development of the planned site of the new island, not to mention connecting with the old man and learning more about the original history of Tronik: he'd also kept busy saving the day! Tronik was a safer city to live in than Freedom, but with so many people and the fantastic flight speed he had in the program, it seemed like there was always a bus to catch, a fire to help fight, or even a criminal to fly down and smack around! Despite all that, though, when the text from Gina had come down, he'd made a point to drop everything...after telling his family where he was going. Luckily his new powers really had convinced them that the story he'd been telling them was true, which meant they had only a few doubts about him going away for a while to do who knew what? He'd left them with the ability to contact him, which was good; but as he waited for his call 'away', he was growing impatient!

Everyone at the unlikely dinner ate, all of them enjoying the meal Stesha had worked so hard to prepare despite her condition. Faced with another mother, Jeanne delighted in telling stories about her own expectancy, though from the sound of things the process was very different in Heaven. "At least you won't be chasing around a winged baby," she said with a laugh, "even if her father is a flier." It seemed some things were, between mother and son, even in the Hereafter. "I HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING YOUR WORK ON YOUR NEW WORLD WITH SOME PLEASURE, FLEUR DE JOIE," boomed the angel of death as he ate. "CLOSING DOWN A UNIVERSE IS DIFFICULT WORK. I AM PLEASED TO HAVE IT DELAYED BY MANY EONS YET. ESPECIALLY WITH SUCH WORK IN HEAVEN." "Has your doctor been able to tell you anything about the baby?" Heyzel asked Fleur, not immediately sure of exactly how things worked in the mortal sphere after so much time away. "Will you be able to give birth at home?" He knew, or thought, anyway, that most women preferred that kind of spiritual connection to the often sterile in too many ways procedures in hospitals. At least having been blessed by angels, he himself could be sure that said baby would be well and happy.

While a god and monster of a forgotten age dueled each other below, an angel flew overhead. Freedom Angel had left his League colleagues without him for some months during his long sojurn outside the city, and he had apologies to make. Not everyone would be as forgiving as Fleur de Joie had been, and though he'd been performing a higher calling, to neglect any duty was painful for him. Thus, in a moment of sinful introspection, he was almost glad when the winter storm erupting in the city as if by magic caught his eye. He fearlessly dived into the worst of the blow, his feathered wings beating the air, repressing a wince as he felt the cold settle in beneath his armor. It had been a long time since he'd flown through something like _this_, and evidently he'd lost the endurance of the mortal world in his time away from it. He mourned the bodies he saw below in a quick pass, then finally caught sight of the culprits. A giant wolf and an...Aesir? It took him only a moment to recognize both. Fenris and Thrude; Lokison and Thorssdaughter. But what are THEY doing here? Even Loki, the Adversary's ally among the Norse gods, had kept to the Pact that bound his fellows, and as for Donar, he and his get had stayed far away from the mortal realm since his supposed humiliation at the hand of the Nazis. How DARE they bring their war among these innocent souls?, he raged. Despite all that, at the sight of the monstrous wolf sinking teeth into flesh, he dived to separate them, wings folded behind him. Like or not, their struggle was here, and he knew which he preferred to win!

(01:45:24) ShaenTheBrain: (22:41:45) AvengerAssembled: What's the theo/philo DC to know who these people are? Fenris is probably pretty easy if you combine "giant wolf" with "Speaking Old Norse." Does Heyzel's Comprehend power let him know which languages he's speaking and understanding with the Babel Effect? (01:46:18) AvengerAssembled: Yes (01:46:26) ShaenTheBrain: Wait, nevermind. Thrude called him out as Loki's son by name more than once. (01:46:36) AvengerAssembled: And she wasn't lying! Thus... (01:48:16) ShaenTheBrain: Thrude's quite a bit more obscure than Fenris, but she did identify herself as an Aesir, reference Asgard, and was speaking Old Norse right back at the wolf half the time. So I'd say probably DC10-15 on Fenris and to know that Thrude's related to Odin/Thor/those guys in some way, DC20 to know who she is specifically. Just have Heyzel take 10 and get it all. (01:48:29) AvengerAssembled: Hooray! (01:48:38) ShaenTheBrain: And go ahead and copy/paste this chatlog into the OOC thread. (01:48:42) Gizmo: E, for Full Circle, did you want them to get out of there, or did you want them to eventually deal with the Hollowe'en episode directly? (01:49:02) Gizmo: (01:44:59) Sorus: aww, Jack And then she slapped him! With thorns! (01:49:03) AvengerAssembled: Up to you, she says.

That makes 9 for Freedom Angel.

Hours later, after yet another chat with his family, Citizen hovered over the island-city of Tronik, listening to the sounds of the city echoing up from below. He'd caught himself, or rather the many confused images of him, on the 'Net that night; fantastic stories of the flying man who'd caught the bus and cured the mutant (Leroj and his sylphs had had a busy night) were making the rounds of all the networks despite the Council's attempt to hush the whole matter up. Tronik had its own superhero now, even if they didn't yet have a word in their language for it. Gina was right, with what she told Leroj. Those aren't mindless programs down there, those are people who live in a machine. He smiled, and dived downward, still testing the way his powers worked at home. Time to show them all we can be.

It wasn't easy making casual table chatter with three angels at the table, but say what you will for angels, they were at least very charismatic. Heyzel talked about the work he'd been doing in the Middle East before his call back to the Heavens, something which he admitted hadn't been going that well. "People want to live in peace, even politicians and military leaders. But governments, nations, causes, they are stern taskmasters that care not for the well-being of humanity. I did all I could, but I think the work will take men, not angels."

With Dragonfly gone and Leroj giving them some privacy to play with his new friends, Sharl stepped close and gave Miss Americana a quick hug. He wouldn't have done that if Gina had been here in the flesh, he knew how she felt about that, but this was different for her...even if it was all-too-real for him. "I'll stay in touch," he promised her. "Even if it's just texts. This isn't the end of a story," he said a little shakily. "It's the start of a new one. I'll see you soon, Miss Americana," he promised her. "Either in here, or out there."

He demonstrated that he did so by taking out the Tronik-styled 'cellphone' Gina had programmed for him, one that had a direct line to Gina's computer systems. "I won't leave home without it," he promised her. "I'll keep it close at hand." said Sharl, who was too much the teenage boy to give in to the tears he wanted to shed. Instead he hugged Miss A, giving her a searching look. "I'll call you if anything ever comes up," he promised. "Or if, you know...I just need to talk. It's not going to be easy being the only superhero here...but at least I had a really good teacher." He smiled bravely. "Thank you for being my friend, Miss Americana. Thank you for making me who I am today." For his part, Leroj was startled, then amused by the little sylph. "Well, hello there!" he said, automatically petting the little thing as if it was a cat. "You're quite friendly, aren't you?" He hmmed, and studied the code himself, experimenting with a brief cloning that turned into two identical little sylphs, both sitting on his shoulders and making a noise that sounded distinctly like purring. "Yes, I think I can..." One of them butted his cheek, and he resumed scratching it. "Yes, I think I can come up with a working relationship with these. Thank you," he added to Dragonfly, then to the others. "All of you. After lifetimes alone, now I know I'm not anymore...and neither are our people."

Freedom Angel was on one knee as they came back in, picking up the feathers he'd shed in his nervousness. "This is nothing like the voudon raids," he said, shaking his head. "The pagan pantheons have long-threatened Heaven's walls, and of course the forces of the Adversary have been attempting to climb the mountain for millennia. This is something much worse than that," he added, a look of momentary disgust on his angelic face. "If this had been going on when I left, I'd never have gotten permission to leave in the first place." "Something has them stirred up," said Jeanne, her voice that of an experienced soldier. "Something on this plane, on the Prime Material, has the forces of the Unspeakable One more agitated than even the oldest angels have seen. We've been concerned their master might be planning to slip his bonds and attack our walls directly. But so far, with the grace of God, it's been only the weaker ones: the Yellow one, the priest of the Star-Spawn, and the rest. It's been hard. Some of those we care for have been taken below. But the trust has been kept. No blessed soul has so much as known fear from the assaults of the enemy." She looked to Fleur and said with a maternal smile, "Yes, it's been refreshing. My son has been diplomat first and warrior next for quite some time." She ruffled Heyzel's curly black hair affectionately. "Blake Salazar was lucky to escape the taint of corruption when he did," said Freedom Angel to Nick, blushing a little at his mother's attention. "If all that had remained on his soul, he might be facing a grim eternity now." To Fleur, he said, "I might still be there now, if not for this, and for what we've decided. Even with our walls under threat, Heaven can't pretend that we have nothing to do with Earth. I'm still needed here, and now that I have Mother and Father's reassurance, I will be staying."

Tempted as Sharl was to rejoin his family, he stuck by the others as they finished repairing the city, all of them invisible and insubstantial to the gathering crowd of shocked people below. He was vaguely conscious that everyone down there was talking about him, or at least that "flying citizen!" who had caught the falling bus, but he was mostly focused on the work and the reality of repairing the city. When they were done, his family would be safe, his city would be safe, and he even (he mused as he studied the older gentleman who was showing him segments of particular Tronik code) would have someone around who knew the truth about the city. But, of course, when they were done, for all that he'd be back in the fifty millions of Tronik, and back with his family to boot, in many ways he'd be very much alone. Eventually, as the darkness of Tronik's night settled overhead and as Miss A and Dragonfly began to feel some of the fatigue of their physical bodies leaking through, the coding was finally done: though more work would have to be done to get the habitat itself coded in, the extra memory would be there: no more outbreaks of bad programming if they kept at their repairs, and with the prospect of reasonable expansion as the years went by. The job was done.

"The skies are red," agreed Harrier, "for there is no sun for ancient Nihilor save the black flame of the Coil itself. Distantly in the skies are the hundred worlds, the last relics of a million universes pulled apart into darkness and cast adrift in the cold and the dark. Those worlds pay homage to Omega in blood and treasure, worshipping him as their lord and master for his pleasure. Their strongest and bravest become Omegadrones, their weakest and most cowardly rewarded for their craven cruelty with Omega's favor." His voice changed as he spoke, like a man reciting an epic poem. "Beyond them is the Warp, the eternal red mist that devours the mind of even drones who drift too far from the black flame of Nihilor." He rounded on Fulcrum. "Nihilor itself is a world wrapped in the stretched skins of still-living gods. Beneath the great and terrible palaces of the Annihilists, the proles crawl and fight, the luckiest among them slaves and the unluckiest..." He looked down at his hands, covered in those lines, before he said, calming faintly, "The Terminus is death. Those of us who lived there lived as maggots in the rotting corpses of gigabillions."