Avenger Assembled

Down below, the three teen heroes found themselves confronted with among the oddest sights of their careers. At the closed executive elevator, a slick, suave-looking man in a double-breasted green pinstripe suit was working at the door with a cutting torch, his head hidden by big, old-fashioned safety goggles. In front of him stood a mean-looking man with a livid scar across his face in pinstriped pants and suspenders, his shirt rolled up to his sleeves; next to him was a no-neck thug in a turtleneck sweater and denim, his massive arms and torso bulking over his short, stubby legs. Before them paced a stocky man in a fedora and purple zoot suit, his jaw so square you could use it as a stamp. Cigar in his mouth and old-fashioned Tommy Gun in his hands, he looked every inch the 1940s gangster: not that there were many inches. The tallest of the thugs, the muscular one, was maybe four feet tall; the scarred one, the shortest, was closer to three. Not a single one of them stood any larger than a child: their Model T parked behind them, its engine still running, was no bigger than a bumper car. "Nyaah! When Lucky gets through that door, see, we'll all go up the elevator real slick-like, see? And then we'll get us some of those fancy computers, nyaah!" The boss was explaining some things to his cronies, it seemed. "And then we'll see who's old-fashioned, see! When we get those fancy computer boxes, we'll teach that joker Tonifanni that the Toon Gang deserves a little respect! Yeah!" His men grunted acknowledgement of that: they were in on the plan, it seemed, but considerably less inclined to orate.

"Oh, no!" Caryatid went white, and pulled at her sister's arm helplessly for a moment before she subsided. "I mean, uh...I can get us all there faster," she offered quickly, looking at the others. "If I work at it, I can scoop us all up at once, and we'll go right through the sewer walls without anyone noticing. If Midnight can block their sensors the way he did upstairs, it'll be fine." Her parents didn't seem to have anything to add: after all, they didn't recognize Erin, and evidently weren't going to put themselves in the middle of a Syndicate, well, not-Syndicate argument. "I guess we could do that," Mark offered, shooting a look at the others. "If Midnight can block any vibration sensors, and if you're sure you can carry all of us. The last thing we need is to get separated down here, much less bring the Syndicate down on our heads. We've done this, and that's great, but we still haven't done what we came here to do." Caryatid swore she could do so, and indeed seemed very interested in carrying it out.

If you're not familiar with stuff from the setting, Rav, don't pretend that you are. It confuses the newbies. ;)

Many good ideas here! An interesting concept! Pretty dark, but plenty of people have scary stuff in their background. One thing for you to think about why is she a hero? Additionally, why is she not a villain? After all, the daughter of Hades could easily have a perfectly fine place at his side, working with him to pull all the world into Tartarus so that he might reign supreme! An interesting idea, I'd have to see more to really comment. I endorse heroes based off 19th century books, though! You might get some teasing for this one: there's already a psychic Batman in-setting called Foreshadow, and he's a pretercognitive. There's nothing wrong with being in the same niche, particularly since he's just an NPC, but keep that in mind. I like it! A good solid background: speedsters are one archetype we're relatively light on. 3) Horror Scary, but interesting. The alien-invader-turned-hero archetype is as old as comics. As old as the Silver Age, anyway! And we do so little with the Counterverse. Cricket monster, oh no! I always knew this day would come! :o

Above, Protectron found a wild melee in the air: Captain Thunder was in pursuit of what looked like Star Knight, save that from the radio transmissions he could tell that it was the electronic teenager Sharl inside the battlesuit. That wasn't the only signal he was receiving, either; he and Dragonfly both could hear the voice of the Mind in their heads, louder as it raged. "Destroy! Destroy enemies the! This will the to Conquest! shall kings queens the order! All will be yours if you destroy the enemies of the Mind!" The last sentence came through with alarming clarity through both telepathic signal and whatever means was giving Protectron a connection to this bizarre voice: and for a second or two, it was almost a tempting offer. Down below, the steel sentinel could see that civilians were coming, a mind-controlled mob with murderous intent on its face as it came charging towards the previously-deserted Lab complex. Luckily the doors were locked, the building secure, but how long could they hold against an entire city? Together, Miss A and Dragonfly worked like lightning over their magnificent machine: creating a device that would nullify even the fantastic powers of the Mind. Between the voice shouting in Dragonfly's head (as if she didn't have enough of those!), the uncomfortable working conditions for both women, and the stress of time and space, it wasn't an easy moment for any of them. But they had Mavis, they had the finest lab in Freedom City, and together the two women had the sheer scientific prowess that would have let them crack reality itself in twain with enough time and energy: building a machine to shatter a Grue entity's telepathic bonds was practically child's play. But how to deliver it once they'd done it? In the sky, Sharl was enjoying his chase more than he should have been: he was easily outdistancing Captain Thunder in the air, the battlesuit he'd stolen giving him fantastic speed and maneuverability, and even with the occasional lightning bolt crashing past his head and the need to stay close to the Lab, this was shaping up to be fun. Until suddenly a silvery net whipped by his head, and a mind-controlled Siren flew before him. "I know you!" the Mind screamed through her. "I see you in their minds! Citizen of X-024-051, you will be destroyed with the rest of your-" Sharl spun in the air and threw a solid punch that landed right on the heroine's jaw! She was bleeding from the jaw, but still in the air, and soon the others behind him were closing in. "Uh...Protectron...?" came through on the radio.

The Patriot blinked, just once, as Sharl disappeared wordlessly behind Miss Americana. Agent Bonham explained as his team went into action, gathering Miss Americana's needed electronic repair equipment, "Much of Agent Irons' body was built using early versions of Victory's technology. Without rapid access to an AEGIS hospital, he may be our best support for spare parts. With your consent, of course, Agent Victory," he added respectfully. "His access equipment here will give you full internal command of Agent Irons' systems." Luckily conditions had already been set for technical work, so once a static-free sheet had been laid down, a deionizer running nearby, the operation was ready to begin.

The very startled elderly security guard, still in his booth, looked very happy to see them. "Thank goodness you're here! They scared the bejeezus out of me with all that racket! Blew right through the barricade!" It was dark inside the garage, and the Model T had evidently gone surging around corners, but the kids could hear the squeal of tires inside the nigh-deserted building. On closer inspection, though, it looked like the wild driver had done less damage than they'd expected: though the barrier was snapped, it looked broken rather than smashed, with the paint only missing along the bottom. "Darnedest little car I ever did see. You fellas better get a move on or they'll bust up in there...or hit the elevators and make it inside!"

Bonham tensed at the questions, shooting a hard look first at the two heroes, then at their teen sidekick. But when no one looked inclined to flinch, he finally let out a breath. "The incident in 2002 was a cover story. When faced with terminal cancer, Director Simmons chose to perpetuate his own life so that he could continue to serve his country." He looked down at the badly damaged robot at his side, who for his part was looking not at Bonham, but assessingly at the three heroes before him, particularly the ones in all-American colors. "Agent Irons is a one-of-a-kind android body holding the memories and life experiences of the greatest American agent, and the greatest American patriot, of the 20th century. Only a select few individuals even know the true circumstances of the Director's death, much less the true story of his survival. If he dies here, the Patriot dies, for real."

Far down below, the coughing sputter of an old-fashioned Model T engine reached all the way up to the 40th floor, while down below they could just make out the moving black shape of the old car on the mostly empty streets, helping out by the glorious silvery moon overhead. The Model T turned and headed for the parking garage opposite, the one attached to the USNet Building across the width of Mondale Street. USNet was the biggest ISP in Freedom City and one of America's biggest computer companies; they were the people who technically had built Claremont's computer network, as well as the ones who'd programmed most of the kids favorite PC computer games. They were all about to dismiss the odd old car, which looked strangely disproportionate from this far up, until suddenly it crashed right through the parking gate and into the garage!

"Yes sir!" said Cline brightly, giving half a knowing wink in the Blank's direction as he tipped his hat in Trevor's direction. His mind was full of suppositions to Eve's eyes, the best of them saying terrible things about this place and the worst...well, even Cline didn't think _those_ were possible! Not without the man in the family lying dead in the lawn, and the older women being parceled out to the labor pool. "The Syndicate can always count on my total discretion, especially when it comes to, ah, personnel matters. Ah-heh-heh. I'll make sure my superiors have no questions to ask." And with that, he turned and made his way back down the sidewalk, looking downright jaunty. When the door was closed, Mark offered, "We really need to get out of here," to the others. When the police officer outside had moved out of view, the neighborhood still looked quiet, and the family was as ready as they'd ever be, though the brush with law enforcement had them looking tense indeed. There was nothing standing between them and the door to the sewers, which was good; the price of failure here was just too high to consider.

Sharl used to watch this in Sunday School

"Sir!" The officer straightened up immediately, his erect spine, direct forward stare, and the staccato bark of his speech more like a North Korean cop than anything Trevor had seen on the streets of Freedom City. "Experienced equipment failure in unmarked patrol car while passing in front of Gravois residence, sir! Planning to use private comm screen to call headquarters for technical assistance, sir!" Eve found his mind easily enough: Officer Cline was a low-level beat cop with no particular ambitions beyond serving the Syndicate, collecting enough bribes to retire on, and maybe bust a few heads if he could get away with it. He'd be odiously corrupt in the Freedom City PD; in Empire City, she'd seen into much worse minds...

Maybe it was because families generally loved each other, even on Anti-Earth. Or maybe it was because Caryatid was moving from room to room as her parents and sister packed, pleading with them in a too-old girl's voice to move fast, they had to pack quickly if they were going to save themselves. Or maybe it was just Mark Lucas providing his reassuring presence, and wishing all the while as he watched the little girl Donna pack that families, any families, would stick together even in the face of awful adversity. But as it was, within the space of eight minutes, each member of the Gravois family was packed and ready to go: their white faces showing that they were all afraid even as they took a courageous step towards their own freedom. Marlena kept a grip on Donna, the little girl for her part keeping a very close eye on her big sister. And just as they were prepared to leave, out the window the watchful teens saw a passing policeman turn and walk up the sidewalk towards the front door!

"No," said Mark, shaking his head. "I guess I could trap another disembodied magical spirit in it," he added with a little shrug, "if I knew Solomon's old magic." He didn't, of course. "The genie of the lamp was freed decades ago, and without him, this is just a nicely carved vessel. It might belong in a museum, I guess. It can't hurt anyone...not like the Mask." He picked up the diabolical artifact and held it lightly in his hands, thinking back to his childhood. "Dad used to use this to roast weenies out back...anyway, yeah, I guess I should show it to Mr. Summers. The League may have let my dad keep this, but they're not going to want it just lying around the school."

Edge: Down Together Family Portrait Rainmaker Job The River's Just a River Somewhere that's Green Fusion: Place your Bets Harrier: Citizen: Lonely Eyes Conquering Mind And GMing GMing: Picnic Basket Confessions Certain Flaws Please put my GM points towards Harrier

I need a DC 25 History check from Miss Americana. Victory: Agent Irons...looks a lot like the Patriot! Really a lot! But the Patriot's dead. :o

The agents pulled the stretcher forward and pulled aside the sheet, revealing the patient underneath. He was in an AEGIS uniform, or rather the remains of one, a huge crater occupying much of the man's chest. Sharl gasped involuntarily, not used to scenes of such carnage, but Victory and Miss A both recognized the marks of the sort of energy weapons available on the black market to terrorists and supervillains with a large enough budget: this man had taken a blast to the chest at close range. How had he survived? Perhaps he hadn't, or rather, he hadn't been alive at all. From the silvery lines visible beneath the burns on his face and jaw to the cracked steel torso and scorched processors within his chest, down to the half-exposed chassis below, there was nothing but a thin layer of organic tissue over the mechanical man beneath. He made a short gasping noise, but seemingly couldn't speak, fixing two pale blue eyes on his trio of rescuers. "This is Agent Irons," said Bonham firmly, looking from one to the other of the three heroes as if to make an explanation. "He was struck at close range by an OVERTHROW anti-tank weapon while serving in an undisclosed location." With Victory right there, either Bonham was exceeding his authority or 'Agent Irons' had been in the middle of doing something very classified indeed!

"We'll...we'll do it!" said Gardner, prompting a wide-eyed look from his wife. "Lord, Marlena, we only took the job in Empire City to get out of that Park Avenue hellhole in Manhattan! And we only worked for them because of what it meant for the kids!" He embraced her and said, "If we can get away, really get away, even if it's to one of those other dimensions, it's got to be better than this!" "But the things they say," said Marlena Gravois, her Quebecois accent coming out under stress, "You know what those other dimensions are like, with the Nazis and the-" "That's just what the Syndicate wants us to think!" yelled Caryatid. "There's a better world out there! A world where people and kids are free to live their own lives and their own choices! This is our only chance to get away from this terrible place!" "You!" Marlena gave her daughter an angry look, restrained by her husband's hand on her arm. "I...all right! We know what'll happen to us if the Syndicate loses Francois, anyway. At least this way we'll be on our feet...and not in some stupid resistance!" And with that, they were all off to pack, moving fast as they ran to their rooms. The little girl, Donna, looking young for seven, followed her mother, eyes wide and teary. "Whew!" said Edge to no one in particular, peering nervously out the windows at the silent suburban houses. "Says something about how used these people are to surveillance, if they spill their guts that fast as soon as they're sure the cameras are off." He shuddered. "Man, this place is so quiet...This town gives me the heebie-jeebies. Midnight, how long do you think before the security goons realize something's up?" He caught Erin looking at him and realized what else was up. "Whoops!" Within a second, he was scuttling after the family, Caryatid just ahead of him.

"This body is made up of magnetic fields underneath a holographic shell," agreed Sharl, floating down to join the puzzled duo. "I don't really understand all the principles myself," he admitted, "but Miss A designed this body for me. She's a genius! I can interact with the world or just float right through it. It's pretty cool, huh?" He grinned, then sobered as he looked around the empty hangar. "It is pretty weird. Do you want me to go check it out?" he asked Miss A. Before she could answer, though, there was a slight fissuring sound from outside, followed shortly by a commotion as a dozen AEGIS agents in full uniform, all of them battered and bruised, came bursting through the door, a half-dozen in the rear carrying an injured humanoid shape half-hidden by a blanket. "Never seen anything like it-came out of nowhere-..." The man in charge, an agent Victory didn't know, flashed an ID badge at the two and said, "Oh, thank God! My name is Agent David Bonham. I was afraid we were too late with the technical staff pulled back. Miss Americana, Victory, we have a patient that requires your assistance. We need your expertise on cybernetics, Miss A, and Victory, the use of your non-essential implants will be required. I cannot fail to emphasize that this is a matter of the utmost secrecy. Can you promise, for the sake of your country and free world not to breathe a word of what you see here to anyone else?"

"I dunno. A lot of these kids weren't even alive when the Centurion died. Some of their parents were just kids back when the old League dissolved, I guess..." He hmmed and knelt down, ripping open a taped-up box to look inside. "But I guess some of this stuff is pretty cool. Hey look, the Serpent Mask!" He pulled out a verdigris face mask with a serpentine cast, looking a bit like a Greek theatrical snake costume. "Hmm, I guess this should be locked up. Wanna hold it?" The mask was warm to the touch, and a little scaly, despite its smooth-looking surface. "Just don't put it on. Oh hey, here's..." He settled back on the floor and pulled out a tarnished black bottle, its glass surface pitted and marred with age. "This is it," he murmured quietly. "This is the lamp Jimmy Lucas bought back in 1940. This is...this is how it came to my family."

"She wouldn't mind having company, I bet, and..." Mark flinched away from that topic, thinking about an ever-shrinking, neatly ordered stack of proofs that kept going off to Castle Comics downtown. Just how long had she been planning to leave, anyway? "It's a nice place to live. Even if it's just you. And it might not be, like you said, depending on Trevor and stuff. How's his grandpa, anyway?" asked Mark curiously. "I assume you've got the Original Midnight seal of approval and all?" He'd only had one chance to meet the elder Hunter, and rather wished he hadn't been so distracted at the time!

Caryatid knocked firmly at the door, her clenched fists the only sign of her nervousness. Within a few minutes, the door swung open and a tired-looking man in a rumpled blue shirt and slacks opened the door. Caryatid's father gave the kids a look, straightening up instantly at the sight of familiar faces. He didn't react much to the sight of Erin, perhaps he'd never had an encounter with Singularity. "Caryatid," he said formally, using his daughter's Syndicate name in front of the others, "what can I do for you?" He shot the Blank a look and added nervously, "If she's done something, I can-" "Dad, we need to come in," said Francois, "this isn't on Syndicate business." He stepped aside for that, opening up the vistas of the Gravois house to the small group. The house looked like any standard suburban home back on Earth-Prime, if you omitted the armor in the walls, the propaganda posters on the wall, and the wallscreens that a little girl in a black and red uniform was working on along with a tired-looking woman in a suit. "I don't know what happened to the monitors, honey, they just..." Francois' mother shot them all a look and discreetly interposed herself between her youngest daughter and the Syndicate members. And then, without further ado, Caryatid spilled the beans. "Mom, Dad, Donna, we...we need to get out of here. All of us, tonight." She bit her lip at their shocked exclamations and said, "Please, if you love me, if you love Donna," she pled to her parents, "you'll pack our bags and go, right now. These are my friends from another world, another dimension like the ones I was telling you about. They've come to help us get away and get somewhere safe. Somewhere where you won't have to drink all the time, Dad! Somewhere that you won't have to work designing machines to brainwash people, Mom! And somewhere where Donna can go to school and not have to beat up other kids all the time! Somewhere where I won't have to kill anyone again!"

"Well...maybe if you're on the League by then, you'll be on his testing committee," said Mark with a little smile. "You did a pretty good job getting him onto one team." He caught sight of Erin looking at the boxes, and made a decision. "Hey, you know...if you need a place to stay, you're welcome to housesit in my house when I'm in Africa. I mean, if no one's back then. I don't think Trevor would think it was weird if I wasn't living there," he added, not wanting to get a Midnight visit after dark, "and it's a nice house. There's enough money to pay all the bills there for a long time."

For those of you who haven't heard it, I'm taking my exams in the middle of the month. I will be around, but at a very reduced level, through April.

"I dunno but that thing had most of the Freedom League behind it and I didn't want it to get you guys and so I sort of jumped into Star Knight's armor as a distraction!" Inside the armor, Sharl felt decidedly odd occupying the same space as the unconscious woman he was in there with, but not being able to feel her helped things a bit. Beneath him, the ground roared by at impossible speed, the spectacular reality of flying at supersonic speed marred by the mind-controlled Freedom League chasing him. "The good news is, a lot of them are chasing me now, so the Mind is almost unguarded! We're headed for the...oops, missed the Lab!" Overhead, the science heroes could all hear multiple sonic booms. "Oh man, Captain Thunder is throwing a lot of lightning bolts!"