Avenger Assembled

“...yes?” he replied, a little tentatively. “I mean, I usually do.” He hadn’t felt hunger or sleep in what had evidently been a long, long, long time in the network, but surely that didn’t mean Gina was right. He was a real, flesh-and-blood person, of course he needed to eat and sleep. “I usually like it fried and with sugarfizz on the side, but, um, anything you can give me would be great. I know this isn’t a restaurant! The Internet and Television thing sound good too.” He could guess what those were, assuming the words meant anything like what he was accustomed to. His comment about food required further explanation, and he eventually explained that most people on Tronik ate food derived from a legume grown in the wilds of the continent where they lived, its chemicals treated to have any sort of taste and texture by electrolysis.

“Just don’t put me back on the network,” pleaded the boy quietly. “I’ll stay here as long as you want me to, as long as you need me to, just don’t put me back there.” He folded his hands on his lap and tried to look contrite. The room was strange, the furnishings just similar enough to what he knew to be recognizably alien, that blue pattern in the background of so many pictures obviously an alien sky, but anything was better than going back to the network!

“I didn’t know anything. It was like being thrown into an anti-grav’s capacitor, or a waterfall. It was all I could to hold myself together,” he said, flexing his hands again as he looked down at them, remembering the cacophony that had assaulted his every sense and sensation. “I would reach out and try and grab onto things, anything, but nothing I touched lasted for more than a few seconds.” He swallowed. “It was getting worse. Like rolling downhill towards a fire, and not being able to get away, I...” He shook his head. “At least three weeks...my parents must think I ran away, or that I was kidnapped. They think all this alien stuff is just juvenile mumbo-jumbo.”

Somehow her casual handling of his disbelief was more intimidating than any frightening display of power could have been. “It, uh, yeah...” He studied himself in the mirror, automatically running his fingers through his short hair. His mom had always told him he needed to take more showers. “Clothes and everything.” He slipped the shades back in his pocket and asked, “Can you tell how long I was in...in there?” he asked, still afraid to put a name to the system that had so tormented him. “It felt like forever. I couldn’t tell how much time was passing at all.”

“I...” She saw his emotional state shift even as he felt it. “That’s crazy!” he said, his voice cracking a little. “That’s crazy cultist talk. Nihilists who say all of reality is a lie, so it’s OK for them to hurt people and not pay the consequences. Tronik can’t be twenty years old, anyway,” he interjected, “because if you’re talking Neo years, even I can remember more than twenty years ago. And even if you mean old years, well...my parents and grandparents are both older than that. My sister, even!” He felt fear, wondering if ‘Gina’ would throw him back into the malestrom if he didn’t believe her story, but he couldn’t take the words back now. “It’s more likely that you’re really powerful and trying to trick me than that everything about reality is false.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Sharl, looking confused and a little frightened. “I...I’m really into paranormal phenomenona. You know, alien contact, people appearing and disappearing, weird cultists and stuff...I heard rumors that a group of people had gone into the 100th level and not come out again, so I went there over the weekend to explore.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of shiny black mirrorshades and began toying with them. “I didn’t see them, but I did see a door, a door right in the middle of the air. I guess I should have called the militia, but I went through it instead.” He swallowed hard. “There was this long, dark tunnel with a light at the end, and so I went towards the light. But when I got there, it was like walking into Hell...what do you know about Tronik?” he asked.

“_The_ city,” he replied, a little bit of concern in his voice. As the layers took shape, Gina was confronted with a tall, gawky-looking teenage boy, sitting folded in on himself in the chair she’d pulled up for him, looking around as if he was trying to find the source of her voice. “Tronik,” he went on, “it’s the only city on our planet as far as anyone knows. I mean, there are stories about cities in the desert or past the mountains, but there’s never been much hard evidence. You must have seen it if you’ve scanned the system, it’s even visible from low orbit.” He frowned. “Gina, are you an alien? I’ve always believed in aliens, but I’d thought you guys would come in starships.”

Sharl blinked, sorting through words he didn’t understand, or rather, didn’t understand in this context. Maybe whatever was translating her words was throwing them off. “I live in the 30th district, on the eighth level,” he answered, “with my mom and dad, and my older sister." He was smart enough to realize he was dealing with some sort of alien intelligence, and tried to describe what he was picturing in more detail. “If you’re looking at the city from top down, the 30th district is in the west, alongside the nitrogen plants. The eighth level has blue piping on the exterior walls. You can’t count down from the outside the way you can with older buildings, because the anti-grav converters at the top throw everything off. My name’s Sharl,” he said hopefully, “what’s yours?”

“I see...a room,” came the program’s reply, its signal shaky at first with a hesitation in microseconds, but seeming to grow in strength and sureness. “There are white walls, a brown chair. The walls are, uh, soft, like they’re padded.” For his part, Sharl pulled himself up and looked around. The sheer material _reality_ of everything around him was enough to make him almost cry. He sat in the chair, if only to get off his hands and knees. “I haven’t seen anything real like this since I fell into that...that horrible nightmare,” he said aloud, still with no face to put to that voice. Was it his imagination, or had it sounded a little more human this time? “Is this another dimension?” he asked, some of his native curiosity returning with his sanity. _What if I say the wrong thing and I go back there? I’d better be careful..._

Sharl raised his head as a voice sounded from nowhere, an echoing boom like the voice of Creation itself. “I’m here!” he shouted into the invisible heavens, pulling himself out of his shaky ball and staring up at the blackness all around him. “Please, help me! I’m lost and I don’t know where I am!” Normally the black stillness and booming voice would have been terrifying, but _anything_ was better than the crawling chaos that had devoured him since he’d gone through the door on 100-level. He was conscious of a solid surface beneath him, a cold, almost entirely frictionless metal, and the air around him was the perfect stillness of neither cold nor hot. Was this God? He’d learned about gods in school, and somehow those old superstitions didn’t seem so insane now! The file’s reply was clear; whatever it was, it understood her clearly and had answered back in the same fashion. “Are you God?” it suddenly asked her.

On closer inspection, the rogue file was mysterious: not something Cyberknife was accustomed to. Not only was it huge, written in an alien programming language (maybe literally, since she knew every programming language on Earth and this wasn’t compatible with any of those), it was densely packed, holding packets of incredibly complex information that unfolded like fractals on closer inspection. This could be the work of days to completely unpack, no small thing for a hacker as skilled as Cyberknife. Though most of the file’s core processes were static, a continuous, multi-layered output stream was still bouncing off the walls of the partition in which she’d trapped it. Starting with the basics, she pulled up the most intensive part of the stream in binary: “01001000 01100101 01101100 01110000 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101000 01100101 01101100 01110000 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01110000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100010 01101111 01101111 00101101 01101000 01101111 01101111!”

Sharl fell through madness, screaming. The howling chaos all around him pulled at his skin, his bones, the lids of his eyes and his fingernails, trying to rip him to pieces. Only through sheer force of will had he held himself together for so long, the power of his terror and shock letting him keep body and soul from falling apart in this hellish maelstrom. How long had he been falling? Days, hours, centuries? Desperately searching for meaning, he reached out and clenched his fists, feeling his fingers sink into something soft and sandy--- _The lights flickered at the Atlantis Casino as its computer network seized up and shattered_ But it gave way, as had every other coherent sensation since this Hell had started. He heard a cacophony of voices in his ears, a cascade of alien languages and howling electronic noises, a screaming that never stopped, never, never, and he screamed back and slapped his fingers over his ears, the voices resolving into alien words and music, playing over and over again--- _At Freedom City College, an electronic SCREAM suddenly echoed across the airwaves, knocking them off the air for the first time in years_ He fell, and fell, ripping his way through the computer networks of Freedom City, drawn there like a tumbling ant into the pit of an ant lion’s den, the sheer weight of the city’s computational capacity a black hole for his wandering star. When he finally stopped falling, plunging into a cold, still darkness as thick as if his senses had faded entirely, he didn’t notice, instead he curled in on himself, crying. He’d been a confident, adventurous teenager when the world had made sense. He didn’t feel that way now.

APPROVED

APPROVED

Crunch appears to hold up. Good to see someone willing to play someone Terminus-Baby-esque. Fluff needs a little adjustment, seeing as how there is no crime on Mars! ;)

[floatr][/floatr] Power Level 12 [15] (221/242PP) Trade-Offs: +4 ATK/-4 DMG unarmed, +2 ATK/-2 DMG Tronik; +4 DEF/-4 TOU Unspent PP: 21 Progress to Orichalcum: 92/180PP (Impervium status earned with Edge) In Brief: Electronic Intelligence Turned Hero Name: Citizen Alternate ID: Sharl Tulink Identity: Secret Place of Birth: 30th District Hospital, Eighth Level. Tronik. (Just kidding, actually it was on a circuit in a briefcase-sized computer in the Centurion's Sanctum. Daedalus had a coffee cup on the spot at the time) Occupation: Teenager, Computer Nerd, Flying Brick, Sidekick Affliations: Tronik, Knowledge, Heroism Family: Aba Tulink (mother) [45], Bel Tulink (father) [50], older sister Sieva [24] Age: 17.5 Earth years (all ages are given in Earth years) Apparant Age: 17.5, depending on his phase state Height: Subjectively six feet, objectively 0 Weight: Subjectively 170 lbs, objectively 0 Eyes: Green/null Hair: Brown/null Physical Description: Citizen, aka Sharl Tulink, is a gawky sixteen year old who hasn’t quite finished growing into his body. His short brown hair is a little greasy, his hands are a little too large, and his feet stumble more than they should. He’s also a ghost, or looks like one a lot of the time: when he’s not concentrating, he looks like an electronic phantom, his body overlaid with barely visible circuit patterns and overall tinted a faint shade of green. He vaguely resembles an 80s wireframe model of a human being with a ‘normal’ human shell cast thinly over it. Power Description: Citizen is an 'electronic' ghost, punching with solidified blows, possessing machinery, and casting his consciousness through the Internet with incredible speed, either to propel himself around the world or just to watch people through every camera in the city. He's immune to physical attacks and energy attacks with the 'light' descriptor. History: The city of Tronik is on a large crescent-shaped island in the middle of a large sea on the planet Neo, their star Bantam a great red sphere permanently high in the sky. Bantam is a red dwarf, much smaller and cooler than Sol, and Neo thus orbits so close to its homestar as to be tidally locked. It’s not a particularly inviting place: the continent to the east is a nearly uninhabitable desert with only a few weather stations on the western shore, while if you fly far enough west you reach mountains of impassable ice that go on forever. Tronik Island itself is about the size of Greenland, but the vast bulk of the island itself is given over to factories, food processing plants, and nature preserves: the city itself has fifty million people crammed into an area of 150 square miles. High towers rise hundreds of stories into the air over the densely packed city, with only the high technology available at the city’s foundation making the city reasonably liveable. Still, it’s not a hugely pleasant place to live: corruption is high as the government tries to keep their population from overwhelming the limited ecological resources available, people go around in black leather and mirrorshades for protection against the cold and relatively dim star, while the desert and chill make it very tough to leave the island. Still, the inhabitants of Tronik were lucky, and all of them are aware of this fact. A few generations ago, a disaster threatened to overwhelm them on their old world: their sun threatened to go nova, producing a disaster that would have devastated their entire world. Their greatest scientists, working together with friendly alien civilizations, constructed a massive transporter device to carry them across the galaxy, city and all, depositing them on a new world just as their old star exploded in a powerful coronal eruption that blasted all the life from their planet. Now they’re working to rebuild their civilization, to tame this new world and send messages out across the galaxy to restablish relations with the Lor Republic. Times are hard, at least if you’re not part of the elite, but generally things are looking up: the average citizen of Tronik eats better than the average Freedom Citian of today, and the wealthiest have access to technology and resources far beyond that of 21st century Americans. (It’s all a lie, of course. The ‘friendly aliens’ that helped Old Tronik escape the destruction of their old world were actually Curator drones building a scanning device to take and store an entire city: Old Tronik was evaporated by a scanning process that destroyed it down to its last atom even as their star erupted. The Lor Republic hasn’t found them yet because they disappeared into the Curator’s archives roughly 2000 years ago; they stopped looking long, long ago, and anyway would have no way of finding them where they are: in an alien computer in the Centurion’s Sanctum, running in the program he built for them back in 1990. Tronik’s new world, Neo, is designed to be a basically habitable, friendly place that was easy to build and just distracting enough for the city’s people that they’d never look too closely at the details of this new world.) These are strange days in Tronik. There are rumors of alien visitors to the city, strange people with strange powers, and bizarre happenstances worked in the city by others. Madmen have appeared wielding great powers from some unknown source, claiming that the azure curtain awaits all and that reality is a lie, only to be defeated by the city’s militia and mysterious heroes from “another place”, while strange stories of people flying, walking through walls, and gazing at the madness “beyond the door” permeate Tronik’s ‘Net. Sharl Tulink’s interest in paranormal phenomena goes back to his early childhood, and only grew sharper as he reached his teen years, much to the despair of his indulgent parents. One day, not too long ago, the 16 year old (at least by Earth’s calendar) investigated reports of strange aliens sighted near his family home on the hundredth level of the Seamount tower. He found a door there, a door high in the sky with nothing on the other side. Now he could have gone home to his huge apartment where his parents lived: his father is a programmer and his mother a doctor, and the two of them love him dearly and spoil him, like any parents do with their younger child. But instead he did what adventurous young men have done for generations. He stepped through it. Into madness. The League patched the hole their trip to Tronik had left mere microseconds later, too slow to stop the giant data file that was the living, breathing, sentient soul of Sharl Tulink cast loose on the Internet, a citizen of Tronik plunged into a world of bizarre input and insane colors, lights, shapes, and sensations. It's been a long, strange trip for Tronik's sole defender. Rescued by Gina Evans, he became her ward, then Miss Americana's sidekick, before going home to Tronik only to find that his people still needed a costumed champion. At Claremont Academy, he's learning how to be a hero and stand alongside the heroes of Earth-Prime, but he's sharply aware of the fact that he's not like them. He's alien in profound ways, but he's not sure the place he calls home is as real as everyone there thinks. It's a tough gig. Personality and Motivation: Sharl is basically a good kid who's been thrown massively out of his depth by the world-shattering things he's walked into. It's not easy for a teenager to find out his whole world is a lie, for all that it wouldn't surprise most of them. He wants to have a normal life, but his definition of that is going to be up for some changes in the new future. Though he still clings to his desire to solve mysteries and make a better world for everyone else, he's also got a lot of existential problems to sort through...in more ways than one! Powers and Tactics: Citizen’s tactics are fairly straightforward: he flies up to people, punches them electronically, and subsequently zaps them with electricity. He stays on the move, flitting around with his low-level flying abilities and occasionally jumping around with his massive teleportation abilities to catch enemies really unawares. He doesn’t really enjoy fighting, but will press a combat as long as necessary to get the job done. Complications: Existentialist: Aaah I’m a computer program aaah. Friend: Citizen needs someone to help him figure out what’s going on and how he can get back home, at least for a little while yet. Outsider: Citizen is from another place, one very different than ours Paragon: Citizen is Tronik’s only superhero, or will be if he ever manages to sort out what just happened to him and figure out how to use his new knowledge for the better. Curious: Hey, what's in this book? Abilities: 0 + 6 + -10 + 10 + 4 + 6 = 18PP STR 26/10 (+8/+0) DEX 16 (+3) CON --- INT 20 (+5) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 16 (+3) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32PP Initiative: +7 Attack: +8 ranged, +14 melee, +16 unarmed Grapple: +12 Defense: +16 (Base 8, Dodge Focus 8), +4 flat-footed Knockback: -4 Saves: 3 + 4 = 7PP TOU +8 (+8 Protection) FORT --- REF +6 (+3 Dex, +3) WILL +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 88R = 22PP Bluff 12 (+15) Skill Mastery Computers 15 (+20) Skill Mastery Craft (Electronic) 5 (+10) Craft (Mechanical) 5 (+10) Drive 2 (+5) Knowledge (Galactic Lore) 5 (+10) Knowledge (Technology) 10 (+15) Languages 4 (English, Galstandard [native], Grue, Japanese, Swedish) Notice 8 (+10) Skill Mastery Pilot 2 (+5) Search 5 (+10) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Skill Mastery Stealth 7 (+10) Feats: 45PP Attack Focus: Melee 6 Attack Specialization (Unarmed) Dodge Focus 8 Equipment 9 [45EP] Fearless Improved Initiative Luck 3 Online Research Power Attack Quick Change 2 Skill Mastery (Bluff, Computers, Notice, Sense Motive) Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) Equipment: 9PP = 45EP The 13th Floor: 20EP HQ Size: Large [2EP] Toughness: 10 [1EP] Features: [17EP] Communications Computer Defense System [Blast 12; laser guns] Fire Prevention System Gym Hangar Infirmary Laboratory Library Living Space Power 3 [ESP] Power System Security System [DC 20] Think Tank Workshop Power: ESP 6 (Visual Senses, 20 miles, Extras: Duration 2 [Continuous], No Conduit, Simultaneous, Flaw: Medium [surveillance Devices], Power Feats: Fast Task 4, Subtle [DC26 Notice]) [35/36PP] Wonderbus: 25EP Mobile HQ Size: Colossal (Interior) / Diminutive (Exterior) [4EP] Toughness: 20 [3EP] Features: [18EP] Communication 2 [Radio, Subspace] Computer Defense System [Blast 12; laser guns] Dual Size Fire Prevention System Infirmary Library Living Space Powers 6 Power System [Fusion] Security System 2 [DC 25] Powers: 20 + 20 + 9 + 11 + 6 + 6 = 72/72PP Concealment 10 (All Senses) [20PP] Flight 10 (10,000 MPH/100,000' per Move Action) [20PP] Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9PP] Morph 5 (Any Vehicle, Power Feat: Close Range) [11PP] Space Travel 6 (50c) [6PP] Super-Movement 3 (Dimensional Movement 3 [All Dimensions]) [6PP] Powers: 1 + 3 + 40 + 16 + 2+ 8 + 7 + 30 = 107PP Enhanced Feat 1 (Well-Informed) [1PP] Flight 1 ('electro-static flight'; 10 MPH / 100 feet per Move action; PF: Move-By Action) [3PP] Immunity 40 ('living computer program'; Fortitude Effects, Mental [Psionic] Effects) [40PP] Insubstantial 3 ('living computer program'; Extra: Duration [default is Energy Form, Sustained Active effect to remain corporeal; [+0]; PF: Innate) [16PP] Morph 1 (Extra: Continuous; Flaw: Limited [only in computers]; PF: Metamorph [Flying Brick Sharl]) [2PP] Protection 8 [8PP] Regeneration 6 (Recovery Bonus +0, Resurrection 1/week; PF: Regrowth) [7PP] Tronik Array 12 (24PP; PFs: Alternate Power x6) [24+6=30PP] BE: Enhanced Strength 16 (to 26/+8; Extra: Affects Corporeal for Str +8) [24/24PP] AP: Communication 6 (20 miles, radio) (Extras: Area, Selective) (PFs: Rapid 5 (100k, Subtle) [24/24PP] AP: Corrosion 10 ('EMP'; Flaw: Limited 2 [Electronics]; PFs: Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Precise) [19/24PP] AP: Datalink 9 ('networking'; anywhere on Earth; PFs: Rapid 8 [x100 million], Subtle) and Dimensional Movement 2 (any 'in a computer' dimension) [22/24PP] AP: ESP 9 ('scanning'; anywhere on Earth, visual and auditory; Flaw: Medium [Electronics]; PFs: Rapid 5 [x100,000], Subtle) [24/24PP] AP: Possession 10 ('electro-riding'; Extras: Affects Only Objects, Alt. Save [Reflex]; Flaw: Electronics Only; PFs: Insidious, Subtle) [22/24PP] AP: Teleport 9 ('transmission'; 900 ft/20,000 miles; Extra: Accurate; Flaw: Medium [Electronics]) [18/24PP] Drawbacks: -6 pp Weakness (magnetic fields; Uncommon, Major [-1 all physical ability scores], per 1 minute, potentially lethal; -6PP) DC Block ATTACK RANGE DC/SAVE EFFECT Punch Touch Tou DC 23 Bruised/Injured Possession Touch Check vs Ref Possessed Corrosion Touch Fort save vs 20/Tou DC 25 Bruised/Injured Totals: Abilities 18 + Combat 32 + Saves 7 + Skills 22/88 + Feats 45 + Powers 107 - Drawbacks 6 = 221/242PP Flying Brick Sharl

"No, I..." His voice dropped. "What do you like...in general? What kinds of things do you like to be given to you?" He shifted awkwardly, and looked almost embarrassed. "There is an important secular and religious holiday coming soon in your calendar. I understand that gift-giving is important and you...you are my friend," the former Omegadrone said with almost painful sincerity. "I apologize if the question is too personal."

Harrier studied the bed, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and thought of his own small apartment and the narrow bed where he slept. And then the narrow tubes where Omegadrones were stored between functions, and then the alleys and pits where he'd slept as a boy. With a slow, measured stride, he walked out to the laboratory. He'd seen signs all over for Christmas, the local religious-cum-winter festival, and had even put a few dollars in the 'pot' at Champions, where all the waiters and busboys had donated to pay for the food and entertainment at a Christmas party. For the first time, he thought of Miss Americana that way. "Miss Americana?" he asked her, watching her work. "What do you like?"

In some ways, Harrier was the perfect choice for an experimental subject like this: he walked off without another word, leaving Miss Americana to her work. He walked into the kitchenette and opened a can of Diet Dr. Pepper, standing there with the refrigerator door closed without bothering to find a seat. He studied the kitchenette, his mind working though face impassive. These are snack foods. She must have many people here for short visits. The room lacked a mirror, so he strode off behind Miss Americana to the bathroom to study his reflection there. "Is this the face of a man?" he asked aloud as he stared at his scarred, lined face in the glass. Perhaps soon, that answer would change.

The king explained to the heroes that sunlight from the surface was indeed necessary to damage the vampires of Atlantis; he'd heard of both scientific and sorcerous ways to accomplish this goal. After that, though, it was time for their journey to the Ridge! Even Atlanteans used vessels to travel to waters so deep and cold, for all that they'd be able to survive easily enough outside them, and so the heroes all found themselves aboard a magnificent sea vessel designed uniquely for water-breathers: the 'submarine' was really closer to an Atlantean airplane, humming along through the seas as they headed for their goal. The craft was full of the royal guards and the King himself, Theseus's anxiety about his daughter's condition making him a gruff martinet as he paced the metallic walls of the military craft. Peering out the windows, it was easy enough to make out the Great Ridge as they approached: the great mass of volcanoes rising against the black of the sea behind it, and just beyond it the ever-falling cliffs that went down deep into the Earth's mantle. If they fell here, burdened by their suits or by the monsters around them, they could fall very far indeed. Suddenly, the whole craft shook, then again, as they came under attack. But from where? That question was answered quickly as one of the pilots came running down into the compartment where the heroes and the king had been meeting, a frightened look on his face as he shouted through the water "Manta rays! Thousands of them...and all of them with the fangs of the beasts! They've taken us from above and-" The ship shook again, this time worse, and abruptly came a great concussion that nearly staggered everyone. "The engines! They've jammed the engines with their own foul corpses!" "We have to get out!" called the King as he led the way to the hatches. "We cannot fail our mission!"

Between all of them, the heroes got the job done. Midnight and Gabriel were able to get the broadcasting equipment shut down and to purge the files in the system, making sure that no records were left in these computers, at least, of Fusion's unfortunate experience in Japan. Trevor would probably hear about the collateral damage done to the street by the falling antenna the next time he talked to his grandfather and Mr. Summers, but neither man was liable to give him too much grief about a mission where he'd played a key role in defeating a bad guy as odious as Otaku. As for the adult heroes who'd been along for the ride, they didn't answer to anyone except maybe the court of public opinion, and such a public victory would only do them well there. For Fusion's part, she was terse and uncommunicative with the other heroes for the rest of the mission. The majority of people in the broadcasting building had never actually seen Otaku and his robots, and she was easily able to help provide first aid to those who'd been injured when they fell asleep too fast or in the wrong part of the building. Of course, there wasn't much to do there, since Fleur actually had the power to heal those people. For those who had seen Otaku, and those women who the robots had dragged off in what was surely a frightening experience, her appearance made things tougher. In a clear, solid voice, she explained to them what resources were available to them as victims of sexually-based supercrime, leaving them with numbers they could call, and encouraging them to testify against Otaku. "He intimidated enough women in Tokyo that he was able to get off lightly. This time, we'll be able to put him down and keep him there."

Quo-Dis sighed as she studied the couple across the way, then turned and glanced at Corbin. He doesn't like me, she thought depressedly. I hate eating! I wish I was older and didn't have to do it so often! At times like this, she reflected how much easier life would be if she could just explain vril and Ultima Thule to the others, but of course that would have violated every tenant of her people. "I ate a seal once," she offered brightly, giving a hopeful smile to Corbin. "It was when I was in Greenland, before I was a student here. It was really delicious! There's so much fat on the meat!"

Joan was never one to hold back in combat, especially when innocents were threatened. Fusion took a more brute-force approach to the problem. When the cameraman, the guy she was supposed to be guarding, was taken away, she smashed her tentacles through the doorframe, cracking and crumbling wood, then used the rock-solid anchors as points to launch herself into the apartment feet-first. "I'll send you back to the afterlife heads-first, you grabby bastards!" she called. She'd faced some pretty scary bad guys in her time: she wasn't afraid of no ghosts! Well, maybe she was a little. But what kind of hero ran away when the going got tough?

While the technically-minded heroes pored over the laboratory built into the Sleigh, Avenger joined Jack of all Blades in looking over a blueprint of the Workshop (printed on the back of glossy wrapping paper!) Brooding in miniature, the Crusader admitted that he wasn't sure of the quality of the blueprints. "Workshop shifts from year to year. With that witch running the place," he shook his fist that way for emphasis, "who knows what it's like?" The way in did seem fairly straightforward: odds were that the prisoners were in the Visitors Wing, the section of the Workshop where visitors from other holidays came, and thus had the closest thing anywhere in the North Pole to 'real security'." It sounded like something of a sore point for the diminutive vigilante. "Why not pass through Christmas City on the way?" asked Avenger as they studied the larger map, mindful of the large settlement near the cluster of buildings that made up the Workshop itself. "Recruit allies?" The Crusader's answers to that made sense to Avenger: time was of the essence with the coming 'Big Day', and he wasn't going to expose the non-powered citizens of the Pole to a threat that had disabled the most powerful defenders of Christmas with such ease. "Understandable," replied the vampiric vigilante. "Can't throw civilians to the wolves. Not in the Christmas spirit."

OK, we're going to make use of the Invention rules! The short time required does mean that you'll be jury-rigging them. There's enough equipment in the Sleigh that you can build without having to use the Improvised rules. For those of you who don't know them, here are the jury-rigging rules. You skip the design check of the invention process and just make a construction check. It takes one round per point of the device's cost. (We'll be eliding over that part, since you guys won't be in combat till you have time to use them.) So the DC check for your invention will be 20+the PP cost of your invention. It takes an HP to make an invention; you've both had Complications activated so you won't need to use any of your base HP for this.