Avenger Assembled

Heyzel's hand was only inches from Dead Head's when he hit the ground, the look of horror on his face entirely unfeigned. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically as he landed on the cold sidewalk nearby, looking comfortable in his boots and open armor. "I should have been faster." He reached down again, unmindful of the thing's hideous nature, and extended his hand. He feels pain. And surprise. He is a man. "Are you all right? Will you be able to recover on your own?"

Not my beautiful face!

"Call ahead first," said Jack with all seriousness. "I often carry out business in and around the apartment that shouldn't be interrupted." Even if he'd decided to be open with these people, there was no reason to trust them with everything. Despite his seriousness, he did shoot a quick grin at James as he said, "I'm somewhat familiar with your love life as well, Hellion, and I think you have no stones to throw in that department. Just keep business visits for business, and we'll all be fine."

"Four years," said Jack quietly, having looked over at Taylor to make sure she was finished speaking. "I became a vampire four years ago. I've been clinically dead ever since. I distinctly recall the moment of corporeal death during my transformation, the sensation of gradual numbness, stillness, and then...reawakening. I don't have a heartbeat. I don't breathe except by my will. I don't even need to breathe to talk," he added, demonstrating by not doing so in the slightest. "I don't have blood of my own. What I consume dissipates within hours, when it's not being used to substitute for other fluids. I frankly have no explanation as to why my eyes and mouth have lubrication besides blood; it's not a question I've ever been able to fully answer. My body is generally at room temperature. I rarely have involuntary physical reactions anymore, though it has been known to take place." His recitation was cold, almost clinical in its own right.

"Is there a bar!?" asked Jack, clapping Archeville on the shoulder as he pointed towards the dark wood-topped bar in one corner of the room. "Taylor and I take good care of our friends." He suppressed a brief frown at the sight of Taylor dancing with Atlas, reminding himself that he could hardly feel jealous on his wedding day. Especially not of Atlas, who though an outstandingly brave man was not exactly Taylor's type. They're not all out to get you, he reminded himself. It isn't like it is back home. "Come," he suggested, nodding to the bar, "you can judge for me if I ordered the proper quantity and quality of lager."

In some ways the subsequent battle was more than a little unfair. There was really nothing the thugs in the crackhouse could do against Avenger's speed, stealth, and vampiric nature. Bullets whizzed past his head as he tore through the assembled thugs, delaying only to make sure to extinguish the burning crack pipes with the unconscious bodies of the drug dealers he'd beaten; fists struck him harmlessly as he tossed strong men around like so many bowling pins. Similarly, downstairs Phantom's arcane blasts easily overmatched the thugs below, bullets passing straight through her cloak as she blasted them through walls and one right out the boarded-up window nearby. But on the other hand, Jack mused seconds later as he stood amid a groaning, battered pile of gang-bangers and hoodlums, fights with criminals shouldn't be fair. The goal was to hit them fast, hit them hard, and that was exactly what the two of them had done. He bypassed the broken stairs easily on the way down to Phantom, who'd just completed her own bit of crime-fighting carnage downstairs. "Think we'd better start taking these boys..." Jack trailed off, shooting a glance at Taylor, as the distinct sound of crying came from beneath their feet. "The basement!"

You do still have a move-action, Electra, so you could teleport or just jump off the stage if you want. There's a lot of confusion and shenanigans going on right now, Cy; there are plenty of dark places (booths, corners behind big statues of Magic the Gathering Figures) to duck into. Same for Taylor if that's your plan as well, alder; you're up.

"I am Heyzel," said Freedom Angel warmly, shaking the hand of everyone there. "I am Heaven's ambassador to Freedom City." Everyone here was very friendly, radiating strength of character and moral conviction, a solid reminder of the decency of humanity. He'd have gone on, giving a further explanation of his mission to the small group of friendly strangers, before he was interrupted by the callbox that Ace had pressed. From tiny speakers mounted on the callbox, a gentle, neutral voice spoke: “We’re sorry but the Freedom League has been called away on urgent business and Freedom Hall is currently closed. If you have an emergency, please press the call button again and you will be connected to the Freedom City Police Department. If you wish to leave a message for the Freedom League, please do so now.” After a short musical tone, the voice stopped speaking. Before the assembled heroes could decide what to do, yet another new arrival showed up. A van bearing the logo of Channel 9 pulled up to the curb, just outside the wall. The doors opened quickly and a news crew piled out: a cameraman and a technician along with an attractive Asian woman wearing a skirt and blazer and carrying a microphone. They came through the gate and headed up to the steps of the building, making a beeline for the most famous of the heroes standing outside the door. “Hi there!” the woman calls to Ace Danger. “I’m Amy Feng, with Channel 9 news. Are you and your team new associates of the Freedom League?”

Edge: Taking advantage of the new Luck rules, I'd like to buy three ranks of Luck for Edge, raising him to a total of nine. (3 pp) I'd also like to shift Edge's ranks in Defensive Roll entirely over to Protection; he's _so_ lucky that attacks miss/don't hurt as much even when he's stunned or helpless. Avenger: 2 more ranks of Attack Focus (Melee) (2 pp) 2 more ranks in Dodge Focus (2 pp)

"We can rendezvous with a search party," said Edet thoughtfully, "I know there are some still in the area. I will radio ahead so that they will have some mark of the king that we can follow." Looking well-pleased at the mission they'd put together, Mark took that opportunity to call an adjournment so everyone could pack and get ready for the mission. He'd thought about getting authorization from Mr. Summers for all this, but he was pretty sure it would all work out okay in the end. After all, they were superheros!

Heyzel raised the flaming sword high...and tapped Darian on first one shoulder, then the other. "Rise, my friend, and know that you are free." He extended his hand to Darian, clasping it warmly. "You have a long journey ahead of you. But if you walk in the path of the One Above, you shall never fall." He turned at that to the spellbound congregation, eyes sweeping over everyone, especially the watchful young superheroes. Good. This place had guardians beyond him. It was going to be a very merry Christmas. "Go now, my friends, and embrace those you love as yourselves!" Some in the congregation listened, but others didn't, and soon once again the angel was surrounded by a small group of people with many questions.

Up to you, Sand. Either way, you should probably answer. :)

Heyzel smiled, his white teeth gleaming as he came in for a perfect landing by Ace. His hand in Ace's was strong and human, though perhaps warmer than any healthy normal man's would have been. The armor and wings, however, were something different. "I have heard your name, friend, and know you well," he said warmly. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person at last." Looking around, he added, "I have never visited Freedom Hall before, but this greeting seems very strange. Were you summoned by Lady Liberty as well?"

Electra, have an HP for Fleur being caught without the others immediately able to help. (Those of you with a secret identity complication, take same.) Even with you taking this round to defend, that still hits. Your TOU DC is 23. EDIT: Assuming Dark Star doesn't throw himself in front of the blast with a Big No.

The fighter cocked his head to one side, an uncertain expression on his steely face for several long moments. "NO!" he shouted. "You shall not reject my challenge!" He flexed his arms and gathered himself up, aiming suddenly glowing fists at Fleur. "BADOKEN!" And with that, he fired a blast of energy right at the flowery heroine, flashing right towards her midsection!

Avenger was faster on his feet than ever these nights, and took advantage of his knowledge of the geography of the Fens to leap and bound his way almost ahead of Phantom. Still, Taylor's flight was hard to beat in the air. The gang stronghold they found was fairly underpopulated at the Christmas season; even drug-dealers and hoodlums had families to go home to, or at least had shelters they could visit. That meant some people in the crackhouse tonight were the worst addicts, those who simply had no place else to go. It also meant, though, that the others there were simply the worst: criminals and fugitives who couldn't go to a shelter for fear of arrest. And when Avenger didn't so much burst through the door as he appeared behind them on the second floor of the ratty old building as they counted their cash and lit their pipes, it was with the knowledge that these guys had it coming. "Think that money belongs to the Salvation Army. Think you need someone to save you."

Who's up now?

Gimme a Physical Sciences check, alder. DC 25.

"There's no way to know exactly what could have happened to the White Lion," said Edet, unhappiness writ large on his red-skinned face. "His plane simply disappeared from the radar, with no trace of explosion or remains. As he is no ordinary man, and as one of the rescue planes vanished as well...we suspect super-powered involvement. If we could even find evidence of his disappearance, we could use it to bring in the Freedom League for the rescue itself. A battle will only be necessary to save lives." "Okay, so you don't think we're likely to get into actual combat with super-mercs or something? That's a relief," said Mark with a grin. "So we go in, try and find him; if he looks saveable, we get him ourselves, if not, we call in the League?" He looked around at the others. "I think we can do that. If no one has anything else, I think I'm about ready to pack and get going."

Dead Head should say something in return, since mindless zombies deserve a quick return to their state of rest. :mrgreen:

In which the Freedom League embraces...change.

January 7, 2010 The letter had gone out on official Freedom League stationary, dispatched by standard US mail all across Freedom City. Reaching the floral-scented apartment of Fleur de Joie, the palatial confines of Danger Mansion, the scientific wonderland of Dr. Archeville's residence, the sanctified walls of St. Stephen's Church in Lantern Hill, and even ASTRO Labs, cc Dark Star. After recent issues with open tryouts going awry, the Freedom League was extending a very special invitation for a closed tryout with some of Freedom City's leading independent superheroes. Lady Liberty herself had signed the invitation, enclosing a personal plea for all the contacted heroes to arrive as soon as possible. As he didn't eat or sleep, and truthfully had a lot of free time when nothing was going amiss, Freedom Angel arrived early that crisp January morning, his wings covered in a thin coating of ice as he made a landing before the closed front gates of Freedom Hall. He wasn't at all sure why he'd gotten the letter; he wasn't a superhero the way most people assumed. But maybe he could just have a little conversation with the people here and get everything straightened out. He tried to think positively. Perhaps the Freedom League was looking for spiritual counsel! The building was a five-story structure with sloping walls, its truncated, flat-topped pyramid shape vaguely reminding Heyzel of ancient Egypt. Tall, narrow windows ran the length of the building, though the glare was too much for him to see through them from ground-level. The glass double-doors before the main lobby were sheltered by a snow-covered overhang, leading into the main lobby, their doors firmly closed. The Hall sat in the middle of a small plaza with a finely manicured lawn, now covered of course by now, with a carefully swept and iced path leading up to the entrance. There was an eight-foot wall around the property, with a single gate along the path to the main entrance. Peering through glass, the angel could see the doors are closed and the lobby is empty and quiet. There’s a flat, square call-button beside the entrance. Unsure of what to do here, though, Freedom Angel opted to wait for more information.

I'm leaving it up to Sandman! I'm comfortable with everything from 'cutting' the devil out of him to a big ol' fight.

I think that's something you can just do, Sand.

The congregation gasped, some of them shifting in their seats at this odd display. This was not how any of them had expected to spend their Christmas Eve! The angel looked down at the sad-faced boy, feeling grief right along with him. The poor boy. He doesn't know. Heyzel laid a hand gently on Quark's shoulder, looking down into his colorful eyes. "My son," he said gently, "you have a soul. No demon, no monster, can take it from you." He took a step back and raised his hands in the air, and when he did a sword shimmered into being there. The blade was long and polished, gleaming bright, and in a moment flames burst out across the metal, burning with the purity of Truth itself. "Do you reject the Adversary of the Universe?" he asked Quark, his voice a boom, "and embrace the justice, mercy, and freedom of Creation?"