Avenger Assembled

"Ooh, a double-challenge," said Mark thoughtfully. "Well, then..." He hmmed, thinking carefully, if woozily, before replying, "If we're going both ways, I think I'd better come up with something for everybody." He had to be careful here, not wanting to ruin the joke or make his friends angry, but who could be angry when everyone was so happy. He pointed at Trevor. "Tell everyone who you think is the hottest supervillainess. And why! While..." He hmmed. "While standing on your head. You can get out of the water for that," he added with a laugh.

"All right..." said Mark, looking around at his happy, relaxed friends. After all the stress of the last few months, and as busy as Alex and Mike had been with school, it was really nice to see everyone so relaxed and happy with each other. Maybe he wasn't part of any of the couples around him, but that was OK: he had no complaints about his personal life, and look how happy they were! Everyone was so happy, even Trevor. "All right, Trevor Hunter," said Mark, pointing at Trevor with his champagne flute. "Truth...or DARE!?!"

"Hmm. Maybe things aren't that different, then," said Mark with a little shrug. "Like I said, this has been my life since I was very little. That's not the same for everyone," he added quickly. "Lots of kids went to regular high school before their special talents got them noticed by Claremont." He got up to get their Chinese food, then sat down again. "Here you go. Yeah, I'm a little unusual. How about you?" he asked Corbin. "You ever worry that growing up with money makes it tough for you to relate to other kids? Like you'll never have the same interests or concerns?"

What a weirdo, thought Mark, a little unkindly. "This is my musical accompaniment," Mark explained to Carrie. "They provide my theme music." He gave Cabbsy a gigantic tip, hoping he wasn't corrupting the local economy, and then slipped more gold to the band to follow him. Not sure how anyone could miss the awesome, he added, "A string quartet would mean they all used string instruments. Gentlemen!" he called. "Can you play the Yellow Rose of Texas? You may know the tune best as the tune of...GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" He shrugged. "If you're going to visit another dimension, why not do it with a little class?"

Fusion submitted to the Doktor's examinations without complaint, her breathing sounding clear and regular as he took her measurements. "The gills don't open up till I'm underwater," she confessed, pointing to hair-thin slits just visible at extreme close range along her neck. "Just like most of the skin lubrication. That's me," she said wryly, "the first amphibious octopus." Underneath her skin was a thick subcutaneous layer of flesh, deep enough that it hadn't actually made her get any larger. "As for the skeletal structure...I'll let you know. As long as I can maintain full rigidity when I want, I can live with how things are now."

Fusion took the specimen jar and placed it to her lips, tilting her head forward and making a bizarre retching sound. Within seconds, Doc watched a rapidly rising line of black inside the jar rise to the very top, Fusion pulling her head back and screwing the lid back on expressionlessly. "I can give you more, but I'd need a much larger container," she said, wiping her mouth. "It should be octopus vulgaris ink, or close enough. It's a handy talent in a fight, and you should see what it does underwater." She smiled slightly, faint, rapidly fading traces of black on her teeth that were gone in seconds.

Summoner Abilities: 32 pp STR 14 (+2) DEX 18 (+4) CON 18 (+4) INT 16 (+3) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 10 (+0) Combat: 30 pp ATK: +7 (+13 Melee) (+15 Sword) DEF: +13 (+4 flat-footed) Init: +8 Grapple: +15 Saves: 10 pp TOU +7 (+4 Con, +3 Protection) FORT +7 (+4 Con, +3) REF +7 (+4 Con, +3) WILL +7 (+3 Wis, +4) Skills: 18 pp=72 r Climb 8 (+10) Concentration 7 (+10) Craft: Artistic 7 (+10) Craft: Mechanical 5 (+8) Craft: Structural 5 (+8) Knowledge: History 7 (+10) Knowledge: Streetwise 7 (+10) Languages 4 (Czech, German, Hebrew, Russian) (Base: English) Notice 7 (+10) Sense Motive 7 (+10) Stealth 8 (+12) Feats: 24 pp Accurate Attack All-Out Attack Attack Focus: Melee 6 Attack Specialization: Sword Defensive Attack Dodge Focus 5 Improved Initiative Luck 2 Move-By Action Power Attack Quick Draw [Draw] Takedown Attack 2 Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 36 pp Protection 3 [3 pp] Dollmaker Array [29+1=30 pp] Summon Minion 6 (Extras: Fanatical (+1), Horde (+1) ) (PFs: Mental Link, Progression 3 (10 minions), Sacrifice) AP: Summon Minion 6 (Extras: Broad Type (+2) [Toys]) (PFs: Mental Link, Progression 3 (10 minions), Sacrifice) costs abilities 32 + combat 30 + saves 10 + skills 18/72 + feats 24 + powers 36 = 150 pts PL: 6 (90) [u]Abilities[/u]: -16 pp STR 26 (+8) DEX 14 (+2) CON n/a INT n/a WIS 12 (+1) CHA n/a [u]Combat[/u]: 20 pp ATK: +5 (+4 w/size) DEF: +5 (+4 w/size) Init: +6 [u]Saves[/u]: 6 pp TOU +8 (+0 Con, +8 Protection) FORT n/a REF +4 (+2 Ref, +2) WILL +5 (+1 Wis, +4) [u]Skills[/u]: 2 pp=8 r Notice 8 (+10) [u]Feats[/u]: 7 pp All-Out Attack, Fearless, Improved Initiative, Interpose, Power Attack, Teamwork 2 [u]Powers[/u]: 71 pp Flight 2 (25 MPH) [4 pp] Growth 4 (Extra: Duration [Permanent] (+0) ) (PF: Innate) [13 pp] Immunity 40 (Fortitude saves, Mental effects) [40 pp] Protection 8 (Extra: Impervious 6) [14 pp] costs abilities -16 + combat 20 + saves 6 + skills 2/8 + feats 7 + powers 71 = 90 pts ---- Design Notes: OK, here’s my attempt at building a character with Summon. I’ve made a few assumptions that are worth explaining here in the build. This character comes from a line of Eastern bloc supersoldiers, perhaps the son or grandson of a Warsaw Pact hero from Czechoslovakia. (And thus, perhaps a descendant of Rabbi Loew of Prague). He can either make 10 huge toy soldiers (or whatever descriptor you want to give his ‘main line’, summoning all of them as a free action, or else just animate up to 10 toys of any particular description and variety. Note that his Minions aren’t Heroic (because that makes combat insaaane!) and they’re not PL 10, either: at PL 6 they’re really powerful, but he’s the important part of the show. He’s a very good swordsman without his toys, probably as the result of his family’s strong martial tradition. Adjust as necessary for your purposes: I would say a Summon-themed character should be able to hold their own without their toys (at least defensively), and their minions should be lower-PL than they. Adjust the character’s stats as necessary, as well as the stats of his ‘golems’ and his other toys. I’ve deliberately left the AP of his Summon as broad as possible so you can put together whatever seems appropriate. This character could be a sculptor, or a painter, or anything else inclined to make immobile objects that spring to life to do his bidding! Add an action drawback if you want him to actually take the time to create things, or even a medium flaw if he _has_ to work from completed works of whatever medium is his specialty. You can adjust his skills too; I went with someone who could pass as an OK toymaker, but you may want someone more in touch with his ‘arcane’ or ‘theological’ heritage, whatever that heritage might happen to be. (Why build him this way? Because the Soviet bloc probably didn’t include research into the arcane in the education of their supers! You only need one generation for that knowledge to fade away...) I gave him the sword and made him a melee specialist to meet caps, but of course you can adjust that as necessary. One possible way to build characters like this while saving points is to deliberately undercap them offensively or defensively, and make them dependent on Aid actions to hit caps. I didn’t do that here, but if you want points handy, it’s not a bad idea! His default minions are deliberately designed to be very good at aid actions, but still be decently formidable on their own. Remember that they are subject to the minion rules, though, so one decent hit means they’ll go down. That’s OK, though: they’ll be back! I cribbed the minions from Kreuzritter's Veda build, but feel free to adjust your own as necessary! Remember, that's what the game's all about! One thing to remember: the _stats_ of minions stay the same without the Type extra, but their descriptors (what they look like, how they act) may change from summoning to summoning. Today Captain Thunder, tomorrow an origami crane? Why not?!

Mark swirled his drink contemplatively, thinking regretfully for just a second that he was the only one there without a date. I'm sure it'll work itself out. He thought quickly, and soon his brain was working down entirely different directions. "So, you guys know what? I'm thinking of living here in Africa when we graduate. There are some really good jobs and stuff, and they're really good for the community. Woof, this tastes different when it's not in daiquiris! I should make some ice cream drinks later. If I can get up." He sipped the drink some more, and went with party games. "Sooo...should we play truth or dare? Are you guys up for that?"

"Sure, that's fine." Inside, Mark ordered a plate of good-tasting Chinese food, making a few suggestions to Corbin about what was best at this place, before they took their seats beneath a gold statue of the Buddha. "I don't get a chance to meet a lot of new people these days," Mark admitted. "I did all my high school stuff, and junior high, at Claremont, even before my special talents showed up. So I don't always get everything people are doing outside of our school. How are things on the outside?" he added, a little grin on his face. "I'm a special case," he added, "so don't worry that you'll have no one normal to talk to here."

"To Young Freedom!" Mark agreed, raising his glass and downing it in a gulp. He blinked, processed that taste and sensation, and then began pouring peppermint schnapps. Glibly, he added, "The finest team, at the finest school for heroes, in the finest city in the world! May all our adventures end in a lesson learned, and all our friendships last forever," he added meaningfully. "And let's not forget the birthday girl! Erin White, the best friend a guy could have." he added a moment later. Temptation aside, Mark shot Trevor a look at that one, giving his friend a gentle nudge to shake him out of Erin-induced vapor lock. Much as Mark enjoyed playing team MC, and as good as he was at it, this was really Trevor's gig.

Mark took his finders fee for finding the hot tub by getting in there first, changing out of his clothes and hitting the wet bar while everyone else was getting dressed. By the time other people were heading back to the compartment with the hot tub and wet bar, Mark was sitting up to his chest in bubbles at the deep end of the jacuzzi, the thick foam almost completely opaque. Sure enough, the jacuzzi was shaped exactly like a roaring lion's head, complete with smaller individual corners for more intimacy. He'd also gotten out the champagne in the classy tall flutes, as well as various bottles of flavored schnapps. "I didn't know what you guys liked," said Mark easily, "so I just got out everything that sounded good or classy. There's a remote, too, for the flatscreen," he said, pointing across the room. "But first, I say we make a toast! Maybe two!"

Since no one can beat Mark...

Give me a Gather Info post, those with Gather Info. A nat 20 for 38. Dohoho!

Mark reappeared from the rear cabin he'd immediately got up to explore after takeoff, having acquired a Panama hat from nowhere in particular. "You can go outside if you want," he said, waving to the outside, "but that means you go to the back of the lion jacuzzi line!" he exclaimed, pointing backwards. "There's a big lion jacuzzi back there. I guess I should tell you guys." He grinned. "And also, a wet bar! This is a royal flight, so we're technically on Dakanan soil, and the Dakanan drinking age is 18...and you count, Alex. It's, uh, a little complicated." Looking very pleased with himself after a moment, he threw the door wide. "Just don't do anything we'll regret," he warned, "the king has ears and he's right through the door...which reminds me." He looked at the others and said, "Would you guys like to hear...a story?" As Mark was blocking the way to the jacuzzi and wet bar, it seemed pretty important. "There is a creature that lives beneath the mountain of Kilimanjaro. A monster thirty feet high, and iron gray skin, so he looks like some sort of gigantic hippo on two legs." He looked from one to the other, talking as if he needed a flashlight underneath his chin. Eventually, he stopped blocking the doors. "The kings of Wakanda have guarded the Beast for centuries, lest it escape and wreak havoc across the land! They say it's a weapon from an alien war, or an ancient god fallen to Earth. That's what they do with all those daka crystals, you know. The daka is what guards the Beast, keeping it too sluggish to escape. My dad saw it once, and he said it beat up Gigantosaur!"

"Doors it is," agreed Avenger. "We'll go through there, find where they're being kept, and...Jack!" He walked over and grabbed his son by the arm, looking down at his hand. He stared at the missing digit for a long second, looked up at Jack Jr., and then released him. "We need to get a move-on," he said quickly. "There's no time to wait for anyone else. Whatever you're going to do, do it soon...son." He gave the boy a sharp look at that, weapon ready over his shoulder. "I've been here before," he warned Erin. "If Heshem has allies there too, we may face enemies as soon as we arrive. Or worse...puzzles."

Six tons, huh? I'm sure that'll help us if some sort of 98-pound weakling ghost shows up. "Splitting up is one idea. Might make the logistics easier," said Fusion shortly, standing in the middle of the room as long suckered tentacles stretched further and further out from her waist to encircle dark corners, her head cocked as she felt the air currents move in the darkened old place. "But staying together will help if whatever's lingering around here does show up. The more eyes, and hands you've got, the better."

"You shall fly!" exclaimed the King proudly, "aboard my personal jet. The rewards for royalty are many, but they are only truly sweet when shared with young heroes and heroines like yourselves. I cannot promise to be as fast as you, Phalanx, but I can promise all of you a comfortable night's sleep in world-class accommodations as my guests in the air, and then a night in the royal palace of the kings of Dakana. After that," he added with a serious look at Summers, "I shall of course put them to work! There is a volcano to be explored, and much wisdom to be gained from it, once you are in Africa. Are there any further questions?" When there were none, he bid the Claremont students return to their rooms to pack, for soon they would be in the air! Sure enough, early one morning a few days later all of Young Freedom (and Midnight!) were at a private part of Jordan International Airport, where the big white jet of the White Lion, bearing a roaring, rampant panthera leo across its flank as M'Balla's personal seal, stood ready to greet them! Mark led the way inside, where even the usually ebullient Edge was briefly stunned at the luxury items inside: between the flatscreen TV, entertainment systems, wet bar and even hot tub, it was abundantly clear this was going to be a plane ride fit for a king! M'Balla himself would be detained near the cockpit, the king added apologetically, but the students were free to roam the plane unsupervised. The plane's decor was a strange mix of high tech and African tribal designs, almost self-consciously so to a practiced eye. Mark had done some extra research on Dakanan culture before they left, and was full of stories about the symbolism of each mask as they all briefly strapped themselves down for takeoff, a brief confinement before they were released to do their thing!

Edge, Cabbsy, and the Beatles "Gentlemen, you are without a doubt the finest quadrangle of musicians it has ever been my pleasure to witness!" said Edge thoughtfully as they zoomed through the streets, heading back to their starting point. "Have you considered recordings? Perhaps on the phonograph or the wax cylinder, or whatever means of recording sound they have here in the Queen's realm? You could market it under a label, a memorable title to let everyone know who you are..." He hmmed. "Do you have a name for your group? If not, might I suggest...the Rolling Stones, as you gather indeed no moss?"

Avenger pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching over to take the axe one-handed. "We need to access the home dimension of Heshem, the Void, that empowered Taylor and Jack Jr." He reached down and picked up the fallen shard of the Eye of Heshem, naturally holding it like a dagger. "We will go there, rescue Taylor and the baby, and then we will-" What, murder Heshem? Stab her to death so her divine blood dripped out on the ground? Somehow that sounded impractical, for all that it would be remarkably satisfying. "If the three of you can't find her," he said, indicating his son, Dead Head, and Dead Head's invisible friend, "We will contact Adrian Eldritch." And beat him with our fists till he helps us!

Avenger put his fingers on the sides of his nose, holding back a bloodthirsty rage against the Heavens a second after holding back sheer terror. "Took her. Took them both. Taylor realized Heshem had been misusing her and misusing her authority, so she summoned an avatar of Heshem, quit, and broke the Eye. And so Heshem took them both away." He was talking to both Wander and JJ, but only Ouroborous knew the for-certain sound of his father planning to kill someone. "Listen to me. Ouroborous, I want you to find your mother and yourself. Wander..." He debated whether or not to send the girl home, but then remembered the willingness she'd shown to kill when the situation called for it. "Get the ax from over the mantelpiece. I believe this counts as part of your duties for the evening. We're going to get Taylor back, and Jack Jr. back. Everything will be fine."

Avenger avoided fleeing the presence of the incarnate divine and its terrible anathema to his undead flesh by sheer force of will. She cannot drag me to Hell, she cannot drag me to Hell! This was Taylor's show, really, and her conversation to have, but Jack still stood ready to back her up. In case the freaking god decides to start an argument. I'd be on fire already if there weren't so many wards around here. With any luck, they'd stay up even as his wife had the conversation she needed to have with her boss. How do you tell a god off, anyway? He had a feeling he was about to find out!

"I will, she'll be glad to hear about it. She really likes you and my other friends, I think, so she'll be happy you're happy. Talk to you later!" agreed Mark. Thinking nothing of Erin's question, he headed off and back to his room. His conversation with his friend hadn't gone perfectly, but what really mattered was that they were still friends. They'd hit some rough patches, just like everyone did, but at the end of the day everything had turned out all right. That was enough. That would have to be enough, and even if it wasn't...well, at least she'd look nice now. And that was always a good thing!

"They really do try and rehabilitate them," said Mark seriously. "The ones they _can_ fix, anyway. Super-recidivism is a serious problem, so they really try and reach out to make sure people don't leave prison angrier than when they went in. There's job training, and placement, and they make sure people have access to power suppression meds once they're out of jail even if it's not part of their parole. The ones they can't fix, well...they usually don't leave Blackstone. The deepest cells are far underground, and covered in security. It's still not like the movies, it's nice and all down there...but they know there are some criminals who aren't going to get better. The ones who are slated for death penalty cases get transferred out of state, since New Jersey doesn't do that."

"I do!" said Mark. "Though not as much as Trevor, probably, since he actually fought those bad guys there when the Grue showed up." Mark had heard the story of the quantum arrow; who hadn't? "I just had a couple of tours, and...OK, OK, maybe I do know a lot." He laughed a little. "My dad took me there when I was little, and I thought it was cool. I didn't really get the whole prison is bad thing, I guess. My grandpa didn't actually visit Blackstone a lot, since it didn't open till the early 60s, but my dad spent a lot of time there."

"I dunno, you hear things about penguins," said Mark doubtfully. He coughed at Erin's look and said, "Well, uh, maybe it's just me who hears things about penguins." He grinned, and laughed. "That they're AWESOME, that is. Yeah, Antarctica would be really sweet. And it's bound to be safer than our trip to the Arctic! I'm sure wherever we go, we'll have good times. But I guess I'd better get back to work, they won't let us go anywhere if I don't get all my calc homework done." Mark still wasn't sure why that was on his list, especially when he was shifting over to poli sci and the humanities for his concentration, but there was a lot about school he didn't get. Erin was one of those things sometimes, but not today.