Avenger Assembled

"I'll find a business to tell them I run," agreed Jack. "So they don't think their little girl is marrying a deadbeat." He smiled a little, bending down to peck the back of her neck. "Let's not go to Vegas. Though there is always the chapel in the Atlantic Casino," he added with a weak little chuckle. He closed his eyes. "I know this is insane, you know?" he murmured. "But we're superheroes. We're supposed to be able to get what we want. And I want you."

"I'll stay," Jack murmured, looking up with her at the dying sky overhead. "I've always been better in darkness anyway." Jack wasn't much of a philosopher; it was probably the only thing that saved him from being really depressed about his existence. He watched the sky with her in silent communion for a few moments before asking, "So do you want me along when we talk to your parents? I imagine that's the proper way to do it."

"Actually," Jack admitted, "that went considerably better than I expected. Most of my interactions with the city's heroes have been much less frightening than I thought they would be." He'd already told her how he'd fully expected at least a lethal attack the night the Knights broke up. "I was sure Ace was going to whip out a cross to try and purge you of the demons I'd planted there."

"I'm sorry," Jack admitted. "I'm not used to being in this situation." He looked away from the grim sky overhead to study Taylor, pushing aside the death all around them for the life they had. "I just..." He took a step closer, both hands coming down on her shoulders, then his arms around her. "Taylor, you're the only woman I've ever known who I could truly give my heart to. You're the only woman who's ever loved me. There's no one else. I don't think there could be."

"It was before we'd even met," said Jack quietly. "All I can control is the life I lead now, not the life I led before we met." He sighed himself, reaching up to rub his eyes as the sky above them darkened ever-so-slowly. "She was much less insane then. But I suppose a visit to your own version of Heaven will drive anyone pretty crazy."

"Contrary to what Ace would have you believe," said Jack evenly, "Moira really does mean nothing to me." He put his hand lightly on her shoulder. "If I couldn't resist the siren call of beautiful immortals, I wouldn't be here now, would I?" he suggested reasonably. He made a small noise, the sound traveling up his arm. "No one's going to steal me away, Taylor."

"It's all right," Jack reassured her. "I trust you. This is just...beyond my realm of expertise." Even the air here, or lack thereof, felt like it was dying, an oddly familiar touch of entropy on the skin of the walking dead. "We certainly are very far away from the Lair," he commented wryly. He gave Taylor the ghost of a smile before murmuring "I was half-worried you were thinking about leaving me here."

"It...holy cow," agreed Jack, looking up at the sky. "What's happening here?" he asked, his voice careful. Like anyone else from the Freedom City area, Jack had grown up on stories of Omega and the Terminus. "Why is this dimension collapsing?"

Jack stared up at the sickly Earth above, taking a moment to process exactly where they were and what was going on. "I'm on the Moon!" he shouted out loud, startled when he realized he could hear himself. Even Jack knew more about space than that. "And I can talk!" He took a step away, feet digging into the lunar regolith beneath his feet. "I don't breathe when I talk anyway, so I suppose that makes sense..." He looked at Taylor, his eyes wide, then reached out and put his arm around her shoulders. "I didn't expect this," he told her truthfully. "Where are we?"

Hey Nyrath, looks like you're actually good to go with the upgrade to PL 11: I didn't realize we'd handled it that way before. But yes, you do lose the points that were in M-A to begin with. You're not going Gold, you're filling up the old slot.

That's for replacing your villain PC with a heroic equivalent, Geez3r, not uplifting your heroic PC to match. (That policy was a compensation for the loss of a villain, not a reward for playing one in the first place.) And pretty rude, I think, to people who have actually submitted PCs and played them till they hit Gold. Unless Doc rules different, I suppose. Anyway, Nyrath, I look forward to seeing your PL 10 PC!

Jack closed his eyes, bowing his head in shame. The weight of his own deeds, and the anger of his friends, was a weight he well-deserved, for all that some of them seemed eager to put some of it off. I'm too much a special project for them to admit my sins, he thought unhappily. And Dark Star's the only one who...He shook his head, then leaned close to Taylor and murmured again those dangerous words. "Let's get the hell out of here. Anywhere."

Since you haven't hit Gold, Nyrath, the points don't come with. Otherwise there's not really a point to having a gold slot. You're welcome to submit a PL 10, 150 PP version of Mon-Ang, though.

The crowd proved quite fascinated with Stesha, polite and respectful when she talked, but full of many eager questions. The majority were very good questions. There was the preteen girl in the green flowered shirt who gushed over Fleur de Joie, asking with eager politeness if Fleur thought she might ever need a sidekick, followed shortly thereafter by a smiling round-faced man in an anime shirt who Fleur de Joie's toughest villain was. A young woman from Lantern Hill even wanted to thank Fleur for all the work she'd done fixing up their community garden!

"You can be righteously angry all you want," said Jack, his arm going around Taylor's shoulders, "but my sex life is none of your business. I'm not going to hurt Taylor so you can feel satisfied that I'm not eating orphans." He thought quickly. "But _beyond_ my sex life...I don't feed on civilians, and I don't steal from blood banks anymore, because that's wrong too in its own way." He looked up at Dark Star, his body and face set. "I feed in small amounts from bad men I've already rendered unconscious. And from the willing. Which means Taylor and I are monogamous. Is that sufficient for you?"

"I guess you're right..." said Mark, looking down at his feet and taking a deep breath for several long moments. He met the cat's eyes and bent down to pet him, earning loud purrs and hard head-butts from the affectionate orange cat. Maybe they were right. Maybe this wasn't so bad. He scooped up Oliver with one hand, the cat sitting sedately in the crook of his arm. Suddenly he moved, throwing his other arm around Erin and James and giving them both a hard hug. "You guys are the best friends ever! Come here and gimmie a hug!" There was nothing false in Mark's sudden exuberance, simply a complement to his earlier grief and loss.

"I have a place," said Jack. "It's secure, and protected so heavily that even the sharpest-eyed people in Freedom City can't find it. Believe me, I have reason to know. It's also big enough to accommodate all of us," he added. "Special needs or not." His mouth quirked in a smile. "As for my dietary needs, I think you'll find them the least of your worries when we're in the field. What matters is that we can work together to make sure we're all on the right side." He thought for a moment. "Midnight Freedom. That's what we're all here for, isn't it? Because we're the ones who come out when the nice respectable people go to bed."

Jack was dead still for a moment, fingers over the bridge of his nose, before he turned to Ace. "Look at you. You're trying not to smile. You think this is funny." He didn't sound angry, just thoroughly fed up. "Moira is your friend. Taylor is your friend. Stesha is your friend. And you think what's happened to them, and the things I've done, are worth the chance to take a few shots at me. I find you a small, contemptible man, Ace Danger. I don't like you," he added, "but I thought I could at least respect you." He turned and walked away from Ace, turning back to Taylor and extending his hand to hers, then turning back to face the crowd. "I'm done here. Derrick, if you think Stesha wants to talk to me, I will so she can hear this from my mouth. I'm so sorry for what I did to her, and I promise that neither I nor any other vampire from the city will ever approach her again."

Though he wasn't sure it was exactly a heroic impulse, Jack automatically put himself between the two women; not incidentally acting as a shield for Taylor. "All right, all right, I think we've got that settled." He looked Moira in the eye and said, "Moira, listen to me." And oh it was so hard to look into those impossibly lovely eyes and look away, but Jack had experience with immortal women with strange desires. "You don't want me." He looked away at that, moving back to rejoin Taylor. "For the love of God, we can all do better than this."

(23:42:29) ChatBot: AvengerAssembled rolls 1d20 and gets 12. Power Attacking for +5. Attack of +9 for a total of 21. Not sneak-attacking; assuming it isn't something I can startle. Tou DC 28.

"Working on it!" Avenger grabbed the monster by the head and smashed his own forehead into its again and again, trusting that the brain was the center of control even in the vast majority of undead. If it needed decapitation, well; he'd give it some decapitation to go with it. "Dead Head! We may need the shovel here!"

Through gritted teeth, Jack murmured, "I had thought we already settled that, Taylor. Why don't we talk about it later?" Folding his arms, he faced Moira directly. "Yes, Moira," he said more calmly, "why don't you tell us what happened?"

Jack sat alone even in the company of the others, hands folded before him as he stared off in a brown study. He was a little surprised when Dark Star didn't begin the fight with more anger in him; Derrick once again surprised him with his willingness to stick to his principles. But he wasn't going to push the man any further than he already had. Vampirism meant he had an intimate acquaintance with just how powerful the innate beast was in every man, whether good or evil. "No, there is something to apologize for," he said, suddenly unlimbering himself and looking up at Dark Star. He remembered his arrogance of just a little while ago; as if his nature was something Moira and Stesha were just going to shrug off! How he'd learned. "That night with Stesha was the last night I've ever fed from an innocent. It was a mistake I've made before, but not one I've ever made since. I'm sorry, Derrick. God, I'm so sorry." He shook his head, not bothering to hold back his inner turmoil. "All I can tell you is that I didn't hurt her physically. She'd never have noticed anything if the chemicals in her blood hadn't pushed me off her. I've never done that to anyone else, not since that night. Whatever anger you want to feel towards me, I'll understand. Whatever...whatever response Stesha wants for me, I'll accept. I've passed as a man long enough that I should be able to accept the consequences of my actions." He looked up at Dark Star, summoned his courage, and continued to speak. "I've killed five human beings, Derrick. Three times were early on, when I wasn't in control of my actions. When I was made, but too feral to hunt myself, Claudia liked to troll for potential rapists and trick them into going to our place; she knew I'd kill when I fed, and she thought that was easier than going to the trouble of...of ordering blood bags." He scrubbed his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't even know what was happening then. Another...another time was when a hunter broke into one of our clubs and started shooting up the place. He had silver bullets, and there were humans there too...I didn't know how to fight well enough, and it was him or a lot of dead innocent people. We struggled over the Uzi and it went off when it was pointed up..." He looked down at his hands, visualizing the blood on them. "The...the last time was an accident," he finally said, his voice almost inaudible. "And after that, never again. Never."

Power Attacking for +5. Sneak Attacking (01:38:32) ChatBot: AvengerAssembled rolls 1d20 and gets 14. 14+9=25. Toughness DC of 30.

"Phantom!" Avenger shouted. "Take out their magic!" With that he disappeared briefly, just long enough to reappear behind the abomination, powering the zombies aside, and striking it a deadly blow upside the head with a single leather-clad fist propelled by the sheer power of his undead frame!