Avenger Assembled

Jack steepled his fingers, giving the necromancer a level look. "Why, what you have you heard?" he asked, his voice sharp though not unfriendly. How many monsters were going to try and take this city from him, anyway? "If you're asking about my personal knowledge, I've made the acquaintance of certain of my Scandinavian relatives in the past. They're an unpleasant group of customers, much closer to the primal nature of the undead than others of our kind. Bring a sharp ax, and lots of fire, and you'll have a chance at defeating them."

That's a miss. We'll use the same initiative, so Geckoman is up.

What the heck, I'll move things along. We'll be in initiative once this is resolved. A 22, with the Fiat. Mark is flat-footed thanks to having no Sense Motive, but I'll say everyone else is OK.

"When my friends in the Freedom League left me to rest in the Zero Zone, my body was found by a friendly civilization of cyberkineticists. They repaired my damaged remains with their technology, making me better, faster, and stronger than I was before." The Centurion smiled beneficently at Chris and Mark, the two nearest boys. "But now with your help, I can return to the world outside and make everything better again. All will be well." "Liar." A bleeding, battered Superior opened his eyes to glare up at the cybernetic Centurion. "You came from space. Tore the world in half and took it for your own! Tens of thousand dying screaming at your hands as you took their knowledge in the name of your dark lord!" "The world you'd conquered?" replied the Centurion evenly. "The world that you'd made a petty kingdom of your own? Is THAT the place you're mourning, Kal-Zed?" His voice was cold and hot all at once, a decidedly unsettling tone to hear from the Centurion. "You can't fool these children with their lies! They're clever! They can see right through you to the monster within! Perhaps it was YOU all along who fought for Omega!" Mark stared at the cybernetic Centurion for a long moment. Visions of the past, present, and future all came together as he pronounced a sentence. "The Centurion wasn't buried in the Zero Zone." He locked eyes with the other Centurion for a minute and added, "And he doesn't talk like a bad guy, either. And...and my dad was there when they found his body! He isn't coming back! He's never coming back!" And then the cybernetic Centurion pulled back a fist and threw it at Mark's face.

More than ten lies!

The truck shrieked to a stop, Fusion's quick tentacle-jostling enough to make it freeze to a stop off the road in an unfortunate construction ditch (though luckily empty) rather than actually blocking the traffic. Fusion bent over the broken remains of the robot, sorting over it with a disconsolate look visible on her masked face. "Well, I botched that one," she said out loud, glancing up at Lady Winter. "Do you know anything about robots? Or do we need to trace through the truck? I know a guy at the DMV..."

26 on Arcane Lore

"Dracula was here," replied the vampire, something like a smile at the corners of his mouth. "That was quite a night, let me tell you. But after his defeat, I think I sufficiently overawed the other elders that they sought out a better place to seize power. Despite the advantages that can be gained from the proximity of the superpowered to this city, it's too dangerous for most elders. After all, it's full of petty godlings immune to their powers, who can rip them limb from limb in hand to hand combat and earn the screams of the crowd for it." He politely refused the brandy, saying, "Thank you, I never drink alcohol. As for the current power structure, things are...divided," he allowed. "A small contingent remains loyal to me and the humanist values I represent. Others have picked a different path."

Good, because if you were... Jack wouldn't have killed Eric for that, but there were only so many ways an extra-legal community like vampires could deal with an enemy without legal force. It was all for the best that they hadn't been forced into a confrontation. "I'm relieved to hear that, Eric. This city's encounters with necromancers in the past have been unpleasant ones. I assisted in the destruction of several cults myself. As long as you stay out of our way, and leave the policing of our community to me, we'll be fine." He studied the man for a moment, then said, "I am Jack Faretti. My friends call me Avenger."

"Maintaining a hierarchy like that in other cities has worked against Freedom City's vampires in the past." Jack smiled thinly. "The danger to my people in this city, with its skies clogged with superheroes, is profound, though rather less so now than in previous years." His paranoia relaxed fractionally. If Eric here assumed that Freedom City's vampire power structure was just like the world he'd left behind, that suggested he'd done little research. Which meant maybe he wasn't the threat he'd feared him to be. "You see, Eric, if all goes well, you'll find that I'm on your side. This is a very unusual city. You can find all sorts of people behind masks. But of course that leaves me with a question for you. What are your intentions towards the vampires of this city?"

The impression passed a few seconds later, leaving Nick with a distinctly odd feeling. Pushing open the door, all seemed quiet at home. From the corner, suitably concealed against magical detection, Jack Faretti watched the necromancer go about his evening business. Rather than risk being seen out by the young magus, something that would no doubt end poorly even that Jack was after all an undead lurking in the man's apartment, one with the power even to hide from necromancers, he chose openness. "Nick Cimitere. Hello." Turning around as he felt the presence of undead again, Nick was confronted with a tall, solidly-built man sitting at his kitchen table, hands on the surface as if to show he was carrying no weapon. He was used to the feel of zombies and spirits, but this was a different thing, tasting of copper and sin. The vampire studied the necromancer before Jack added, "I hope you'll forgive the sudden intrusion, Mssr., but I felt it appropriate to meet you on your own terms."

That'll get close enough. Fusion lands, hits the robot, and crits: since he couldn't pass the subsequent save without a natural 20, I'm assuming he suffered the maximum possible result: he's busted. LW is up!

When they got close enough, Fusion dropped onto the back of the truck. "Hey, jerkwad! Welcome to Freedom City!" she yelled, her tentacles lashing out as they burst through the back of the truck's cab. She caught the truck driver around the midsection, and yanked him out of his seat, through the broken window, and into the rear of the truck bed with a shriek of rupturing metal! Before Lady Winter could be in shock at her companion's brutality, she saw the spray of gears, and realized the now-shattered driver was a robot! But that might not help, because the robot's unexpected fragility meant that the truck was speeding out of control!

And we are officially out of rounds, for anyone wondering.

IIRC the message of Spiderman 2 was: "If you try hard, study in school, serve your country in wartime, and then serve with distinction as an astronaut, your 'ho fiancee will dump you at the altar for her slacker high school boyfriend."

Heyzel quirked an eyebrow. "A more specific request than I have usually been in a position to grant, but if you tell me of the place, I can get you there. My ability to travel quickly is less a matter of gross teleportation, but rather a speed so great as to break all the laws of mortal physics." He listened intently as Gabriel described the place, then took his hand. "Come, let us go. Thank you again for the help, Fleur." He smiled at Stesha, and added, "You've planted another seed in your garden of friends, soon to grow into a blossom of allegiance."

"That was you?" Mark asked in a rare successful leap. "And now she's helping you get in?" It was a surprising piece of perspicacity for the scatter-brained teen, who quickly added, "I didn't, uh, peek at your file or anything, but that's more common than you think. A kid gets in trouble, but the hero who catches them helps sponsor them for membership at the school." He shrugged. "So anyway, you were telling the story, not me. Why were you trying to rob the museum?" he asked suddenly. "I mean you're really rich. Was it just for fun, or what?"

Hellion's final, devastating blow finished off the Ultiman, sending him collapsing to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Only his rapidly falling chest and twitching limbs said he was still alive after the savage beating, not that the kids would have expected anything less from the famously resilient and powerful Kal-Zed. If he had any further warnings to give, he was in no shape to give them as he collapsed to the floor. The cyborg Centurion, a smile on his face twisted by the machinery that occupied most of it, said, "Hah! I knew you children could do it. Together, we'll beat this thing. Come, let's rebuild the Zero Zone machinery and put him where he can't hurt anyone again." Mark spoke up then, studying the cyborg Centurion with an odd look on his face. "And then you'll go back to your own dimension, sir? It's...it's not that we don't appreciate your help, but it might confuse people if there was a second Centurion floating around." The cyborg crossed the room and patted Mark on the shoulder, the reassuring look on his face the one all the kids had seen in old movies, marred once again by that electronic mask across half his face. "Oh, son, don't you see? I am your Centurion. Thanks to everything you children have done, I've returned." - Across the room, Medea had abandoned the still unconscious Dr. Stratos to glare at Midnight. "So now what?" she demanded. "You going to-" She proceeded to describe a really very lurd series of punishments that Trevor recognized from the gladiator movies that Travis liked to watch. "Because I've seen some pretty bad stuff in my day, junior, and you're going to have to be pretty competitive if you want to keep up!"

"He said he came for vengeance against the breaking of the loa," replied the angel, staring up at the scattered few stars visible in the sky. "That it was our people who had broken the great kingdoms of Yoruba and Dahomey, that it was they who had made his worshipers slaves and scattered them across three continents. We tried to tell him that the actions of those who appropriated the worship of the Creator as a tool to promote the power of their economic and governmental systems were not our own, and that in fact he should be more thoughtful of the influence that the children of Abraham had on the worship of the loa: the saints, the ritual, and other forms adapted to worship those very different beings. He took to that very badly, and began engaging in certain deeds that acted to break down the barriers between worlds. And then certain deeds became actions, and then the battle began." He shook his head, then said, "That was just a few...decades ago, I suppose. But the nature of such things rarely change."

When he thought they'd pushed the limits of Stesha's hospitality as far as it would go, Heyzel thanked her for her time and turned to Gabriel. "Where shall I return you to?" he enquired. "I can take you anywhere in the world, or anywhere in the city. It would not be proper for us to leave Fleur's apartment by the door: you understand?" he asked. Heyzel was not a subtle being, no angels were, but he was trying his best to be here. He didn't really understand why superheroes used secret identities, but he respected the institution enough to guard his friend's privacy.

"I'm no friend to the so-called pagan gods," said Freedom Angel frankly, looking like a man torn between several instincts. "But I can understand how the Adversary could whisper in their ears. To watch behind the Pact's walls, helpless to act on the mortal plane, as your worshipers suffer and die in your name, begging for you to help them, with only the knowledge that you'll have their souls when they pass into the great Hereafter..." He sounded like he was talking about someone besides the loa for a moment. "It's enough to drive any being to madness. Or the temptations of the Devil." He shook his head, and added, "I have met Baron Kriminel," he added suddenly. "Not the spirit that manifests in the mortal world, but the terrible thing that lives in Guinee and once tried to storm the walls of Heaven. It was not pleasant."

Hellion is up

"You fools! You stupid children! Don't you realize who this is? It's-!" Superior went down before the powerful blows of the powerhouses of Young Freedom, Phalanx's iron-crunching blows and Wander's barrage of bone-shattering bat strikes sending the Nazi superman to his knees, then onto all fours as he spat out a broken tooth. They weren't holding much back; it was a testimony to the sheer power of the Ultiman's unstoppable body that he was still conscious, if in a bad way. He didn't seem to feel Rift's blast, but it was hard to tell if he was actually unconscious or just a very tough bastard. "Fine, die!" he spat. But despite his harsh words, he didn't get up.

"Faster," said Fusion imperiously, keeping her gaze fixed on the wildly speeding truck below them. "Yeah, you better run, ASSASSIN!" she yelled as the two heroines sped along on a column of ice, just inches above the cars below as they kept up with, but did not get closer, to the veering truck. The driver was good enough, and smart enough, to keep his car speeding along amid a legion of other cars to make attacks harder. "Just get me within fifty feet, and I can grab that little SOB..."

On his turn, the robot-in-truck floors it, speeding wildly through Freedom City traffic. We'll say he can only manage 100 MPH, and that's with crashing through barriers and that kind of thing. He makes the drive check With Lady Winter making a standard move, she's still a couple hundred feet behind him. She'll have to put the pedal to the medal. ;)