Avenger Assembled

"Oh, uh," said Mark, sounding unusually unsure of himself, "I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over or something. To the hospital; McNider." He added belatedly, when he realized his words, "It's, uh, my Gramma Stephie. She had chest pains while we were eating dinner, so she's staying overnight for observation. I'm sure she's OK, though, she's just very old. I just...my mom went home, but I didn't want to leave yet."

Lucasiania!

It was the early morning hours at the hospital when Mark decided to give Erin on a call, sure on a whim that his friend would be awake and with time on her hands even this early in the semester. His mom had gone home, and he was the last family of his grandma's still over there. He couldn't just leave till he was sure she was okay, but he didn't want to be alone either. "Hey, Erin. It's me, Mark," he said unnecessarily. "Are you doing anything?"

That's 100 lbs of pure silver, folks!

"Hey, you know, it doesn't help if you look like bullies," Mark added, thinking about how his dad had taught him to handle Commies! Walking over to the men, he went on to say, "She's just a defenseless woman with a broken machine, and you're six strong men with hammers, all of you in the prime of your lives and peak of your power. If people see you breaking her machine, all you'll do is show them that the Luddites are thugs and bullies who pick on people smaller than they are. I'll tell you what," he added, "if you do want something productive with yourselves, why don't you do this?" He reached behind himself and produced a bag the size of his head. Mark wasn't a creative man: it was a black sack with a white pound sign on it. "Look, this is full of silver," he said, opening the drawstring bag to show the cut ingots inside, "and there's plenty for all of you. Now you can all pay your rent! Or even better, why don't you take this money, pool it together, and _buy_ that factory?"

"I don't know any places or names! I just heard there's still a rebel base down in the sewers, even after the Syndicate ate the ones who were down there before! Somewhere under the Fens, where it's too crazy to look with all the mutants down there! Please don't eat me!" The man shouted, his voice very loud in the night air. "I'm all skin and bones! Nothing but a washed-up old captain who's LEARNED HIS LESSON! I'm on your side forever, I swear!"

"I don't know," said Daisy, shaking her head. "I heard you were some kind of crazy monster the Syndicate found on a dead world, that they beat you into submission and used Pathos to keep you in line." She looked a little scared to even being talking to Erin, looking at the others in disbelief before replying, "She's not...she's not like you. She doesn't talk, or make a lot of noise, at least when she's not screaming, she..." She looked away and added, "I saw video of her used on a rebel base in the sewers once. Cutting off heads, stabbing through faces, and the names she was screaming..."

"Well, uh..." Daisy stuttered briefly before fixing her eyes on the other three. "If you didn't have _her_, I'd think this was just a big con game to test my loyalty!" she said, cocking her head back at Wander, who she was obviously still very frightened of. "But if you've got her here...well, okay...uh, Pathos is a psychic. She does loyalty tests, things like that, and she likes to...play with people. She made Singularity, or helped finish the job, anyway. Assault is her pet, he's big and dumb and strong, and does whatever she wants, especially hurt people. Komodo used to be on the team, but he got turned into a monster and they kicked him off...uh, Thrash, that's you," she said, looking at Warren, "he's a big bully who plays loud music and hurts people if they don't like it. Blank is very quiet, I don't see him much. And Hex..." She looked away and said in a scared voice, looking at Edge. "I'm sorry, but you already know about Hex. And what he did." She hugged herself around the midsection. "Likes to do. I'm sorry, I'm not being very helpful," she said apologetically. "Please don't be angry! I didn't really know them except as enemies, and afterwards Hex doesn't let me talk if I'm not spoken to first! What do you want to know?" Edge was silent for a moment before he suddenly made a gesture at himself, replacing his red and black costume with glorious blue and gold in his own familiar colors! A few moments later, he did the same for the others, those that wanted it, giving them back copies of their own costumes. "We won't wear their colors anymore, Daisy. That's over with."

APPROVED

"Hey, you! Fritz!" Fearlessly, Edge walked to the edge of the roof, turning so he could take in all the Nazis nearby, and all the ones as far away as the river. "I want you guys to all hear something! My name is Lucky Strike, and I'm an American superhero. I've always wondered what I could do if I was some place where I didn't need to hold back, against people where it doesn't matter what happens to them. My name is Lucky Strike, and you're about to GO TO WAR!" And with that, there was an explosion everywhere as the world seemed to go mad: Nazi guns jamming and exploding, tanks backfiring and colliding, and at least one giant robot actually punched itself in the face as an explosion of pure controlled chaos erupted again and again from Mark Lucas.

Edge seizes initiative (1 HP) He nukes every Nazi he can see (every visible Nazi within a 6000 foot radius of his head) with an Area Burst Blast 12. DC 22 Reflex, DC 27 Tou. Remember that minions suffer the maximum possible result of failed rolls.

Daww! thought Mark, watching the lovers embrace. Those two are so cute together! He was distracted by Daisy, tugging at his sleeve, and looked away as he continued laying brickwork up behind what looked like bulletproof glass in the painted over windows. "What do you need?" He asked her, giving her a level look. She looked so much like his Daisy, but she also looked so sad, and scared, neither of which were expressions he'd ever thought to see on the girl he knew. "You have a way back, right?" she asked frantically, her big eyes very wide. "A way back to where you're from? Because unless you're planning to take on the whole Syndicate, you can't stay here! You know what they do to kids who run off or are expelled, much less ones who attack their teachers and don't get away with it! That's what...what happened to me," she said, looking away from him suddenly. "After they ppp...unished me, I was going to be taken away, but then Hex said he could help me out if I could...help him out." "I'm sorry," said Mark, feeling an obvious surge of guilt at her words. "It'll be all right. We'll get out of here, and we'll take you with us. No one should have to live in this horrible place, no matter what they've done, or what's happened to them. We can get you counseling, get you a place to live...it'll be great. All will be well." -- Outside, the Fens were...well, pretty awful! The worst neighborhood in Trevor's Freedom City was surprisingly quiet here, and for good reason: the buildings all around him looked long abandoned. There were signs of old violence in places, marks of bullet holes and power blasts, but it was a ghost town now. He did find one old homeless man with a heavy beard who, when approached by the Blank, was willing to spill his guts about everything. "I don't know!" he shouted. "The district's crawling with who knows what! And they could be anywhere! There are sewers down below, but they're full of...well, you know! Look, I'm loyal! I've always been loyal! I just lost my card because I couldn't afford Lady Sin's pills anymore, please..."

The concept here, as with the Oddball of the same name, is that this is an emancipated Omegadrone acting as a superhero. I went with the internal armor (erupting to the surface on command) because I thought it looked cooler.

Abilities: 22 pp STR: 30/24/16 (+10/+7/+3) DEX: 16 (+3) CON: 30/16 (+10/+3) INT: 10 (+0) WIS: 14 (+2) CHA: 10 (+0) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+8 Melee/Pike blast) DEF: +8 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +7 Grapple: +19 Saves: 6 pp TOU +12 (+10 Con, +2 Density) (+9 Imp w/Armor) FORT +10 (+10 Con) REF +5 (+3 Reflex, +2) WILL +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 12 pp=48 r Knowledge: Physical Sciences 4 (+4) Knowledge: Technology 4 (+4) Intimidate 15 (+15) Notice 8 (+10) Search 5 (+5) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Survival 4 (+6) Feats: 13 pp All-Out Attack, Attack Focus: Melee 2, Dodge Focus 2, Improved Initiative, Luck, Move-By Action, Power Attack, Quick Draw [Draw], Startle, Takedown Attack, Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 79 pp Alternate Form 5 (Omega Armor) [25 pp] -Flight 3 (50 MPH) [6 pp] -Immunity 9 (life support) [9 pp] -Impervious TOU 7 [7 pp] -Super-Senses 3 (Darkvision, Radio) [3 pp] Density 4 (Extra: Duration [Permanent] (+0) ) (PFs: Innate, Subtle) [14 pp] (+8 STR, 1 Immovable, 1 Super-Strength [Heavy Load: 1.5 tons], x3 mass [weighs about 600 lbs]) Device 6 (Power Pike) (PFs: Restricted (Omegadrones), Subtle [collapsible]) [18+2=20 pp] -Blast 12 (PF: Accurate) [25 pp] -AP: Strike 2 (PFs: Extended Reach, Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Mighty, Precise, Variable Descriptor 2 [any technological]) (Extras: Autofire 12, Penetrating 2) {24} Enhanced CON 14 [14 pp] Enhanced STR 6 [6 pp] Drawbacks: -6 pp Vulnerable (Magnetics) (uncommon, major) (-3) Vulnerable (Power Drains) (uncommon, major) (-3) CODE: SELECT ALL DC Block Unarmed DC 25 TOU (bruised/injured) Staff Strike DC 27 TOU (bruised/injured) Staff Blast DC 27 TOU (bruised/injured) costs abilities 22 + combat 24 + saves 6 + skills 12/48 + feats 13 + powers 79 - Drawbacks 6 = 150 pts

Afro-Vulcan Abilities: [38 pp] STR: 18 (+4) DEX: 18 (+4) CON: 18 (+4) INT: 10 (+0) WIS: 18 (+4) CHA: 16 (+3) Combat: [24 pp] ATK: +6 (+10 Electrical Control/Melee) DEF: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +8 Grapple: +10 Saves: [9 pp] TOU: +10 (+4 Con, +6 Protection) FORT: +7 (+4 Con, +3) REF: +7 (+4 Ref, +3) WILL: +7 (4 Will, +3) Skills: [20 pp] Acrobatics 8 (+12) Bluff 7 (+10) Diplomacy 7 (+10) Intimidate 7 (+10) Knowledge: History 5 (+5) Knowledge: Physical Sciences 5 (+5) Knowledge: Streetwise 5 (+5) Knowledge: Tactics 10 (+10) Languages 2 (Spanish, Vietnamese) (Base: English) Notice 4 (+8) Sense Motive 6 (+10) Feats: [19 pp] Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus: Melee 4 Dodge Focus 4 Evasion Fast Overrun Improved Overrun Improved Initiative Master Plan 2 Move-By Action Startle Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: [40 pp] Black Power Array [24+2=26 pp] Electrical Control 10 (PFs: Accurate 2) AP: Strike 6 (PFs: Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Knocback 4, Mighty, Penetrating 6) AP: Stun 10 (PFs:Extended Reach 2, Improved Crit 2) Flight 3 (50 MPH) (Flaw: Platform) [3 pp] Immunity 5 (electrical damage) [5 pp] Protection 6 [6 pp] ----- Here's a generic African-American superhero with electrical powers; a common character archetype. The assumption here is that he's a former pro-athlete turned ghetto schoolteacher, ready to defend his home neighborhood from the dealers, bangers, and hoodlums who are making it an unsafe place for kids to grow up. And at some point along the way, he acquired electrical powers to get the job done! I figure he's probably their football and/or track coach, which is why he's got the particular combat skills and feats he has. He's got a decent-sized array, perfect for power-stunting, and is immune to all damage from electricity. I figure his Protection is some sort of crazy "electro-skin" underneath his regular skin that makes him super-tough even when he's not paying attention. Note that he's not immune to electrical _effects_, so he can still be blinded/drained/stunned, or whatever. He can punch for damage, or hit someone with a stunning jolt of his own. This archetype is something of a cliche given that it was such a Bronze Age staple, but it survives today because there still are inner-city schools that need teachers, African-American superheroes need more exposure, and because electrical powers look really cool visually, and fit in decently well with a street-level hero like this guy. (He's supposed to fight mostly thugs and skells, so no Power Attack on him. That comes later, when the Mob starts hiring supervillains to bring him down...)

"Oh, Charlie and Lois have been great," said Joan, pacing the room as her tentacles began lashing around her feet, moving back and forth without actually touching anything. "I mean sure, it was tough at first, when I was in the tank, but once I was out of it...things got a lot better. I mean, it must have been so hard for them, watching me just degenerate like that." She gave a little shudder. "But they take to it well. I can even pat Lois with my extra arms, or hug Charlie. I couldn't always do that."

"We're superheroes," said Fusion decisively. "We can make it work. And even if not...well, I have ways of getting into places." As it turned out, though, they didn't need much subterfuge to get into see Red Bolt, aka Nelson Fletcher. Fusion told the prison staff that they were there to talk to the fallen hero because someone was using his old rants again, and the thought of a copycat supervillain was sufficiently frightening to let the Blackstone guards escort them into the psychiatric wing of the mostly underground complex. Fusion kept her tentacles close around her midsection, listening as the guards explained Fletcher's stay: he was technically insane, but the magnitude of his crimes had kept him out of Providence under pressure from the authorities. He was coming up on twenty-five years in the same cell, where he'd probably spend the rest of his natural life. His doctors weren’t sure whether “the Shepherd” was a new identity for Red Bolt, an invisible friend, a fragmented personality, or someone else entirely. They met Nelson in his cell, the former hero needing to be called to get their attention. The formerly trim, vigorous young champion was now a whispery old man, an Old Testament beard down to his chest, with a bizarre cell. Shelves crammed with books filled one wall, while another wall was covered with a strange mural that seemed to bear closer inspection. Upon being summoned by the guard, Nelson Fletcher shuffled to the front of his cell and whispered, "Okay. I'm here. What do you need?"

The teens made a mad dive for the building from the air, a moment before the helicopter behind them suddenly exploded in a flash of eerily quiet light as the security systems the Blank had installed against sabotage (the ones necessitating a certain code word and his hand on the rudder) activated. Rift, Wander, Edge, and their passenger Daisy, the only people on the chopper, went spiralling downward towards the Fens below, the grimmest neighborhood in the city looking not too different at night from the air.

"Oh no, you poor little kids!" Edge didn't know much about poverty, but he knew it was really bad! Especially for poor little Victorian orphan kids in open-toed shoes with cloth hats. "Here, let me help!" As if from nothing, and indeed from nothing, he produced two gigantic ham and pimento cheese sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and handed one each to the kids. "Here's some food. It's a gift from AMERICA!" He made an expansive gesture at that.

'Lucky Strike' took a moment to let his ally take stock of the situation before he put his hand on Cannonade's arm. He'd fought Nazis before, and he knew exactly what you had to do. "I can't hit them if I can't see them, and my swingline's no good to me with a smashed skyline. If you've got his powers, pick me up and jump us towards the battlefield. We can make them proud, and we can clean this place up. Do it for family, man." Visions of his own ancestors swum in the back of his mind. "This isn't the time for thinking. This is the time for _doing_."

"They thought about calling in the Centurion, but Superior staged a raid on the Atlantic shipping channels, so they were stuck with the people on the ground..." He climbed up after Cannonade, and as they stood together he put his hand on the other man's arm. "Whatever happens, we can't worry about altering history here. We're heroes, we're in a very dark place in a very dark time. Are you with me, Cannonade?"

"Certainly," said Jack, briefly distracted. "Erin, if you'll put him down?" Jack Jr. was in a squirmy mood, and would probably do his usual "fuss-fuss-fuss-comatose" sleeping routine before actually getting in his nap that night. "I'll check in on him later." Erin was a great sitter, but as usual he felt a soft pang of guilt seeing his little boy go off with someone else. "Night night, little hunter," he said with a big smile at the baby.

"It's been tried with some success," Avenger conceded. "Truthfully, much of the supply you give me goes to supporting my people. If you can arrange to have more sent my way, I think many of Freedom's vampires can be removed from a permanent relationship with human blood." He frowned, studying the doctor. "What are you injecting him with, again?"

Mark took the pilot's seat when Trevor realized that his double was evidently better-trained than he was behind the stick. Mark had to exaggerate his own training a bit to get there, but luckily he took to the controls of the Blankcopter like a champion! He headed straight for open water, figuring it was the safest direction to go. "We'd better drop down fast," he said worriedly, shooting a glance at the school behind them. "I bet you anything Evil Megastar flies a lot faster than this thing. No offense. Trevor, if you were evil, where would you put a landing pad?"

Jack winced, shooting the Doktor a look. Well, surely getting one little tap on the knee couldn't hurt. "Okay, little man, just one more little poke, and then the doctor will be gone and you'll be back in bed." He kissed the baby's soft little head and added, "Tucked in with your little stuffed dragon, chewing on the foam again..." He set the baby down; Jack Jr. responding by turning his head to peer at Dr. Archeville. His toothy smile and red eyes suggested a very tired baby.