Avenger Assembled

The mountain before them was a strange place to Dark Star, gravitically all deep canyons and ravines that were barely visible to his naked eye. There was obviously something going on inside the mountain itself that was distorting the local laws of physics significantly, reminding him more of alien technology he'd encountered during his voyages in the stars than anything else. He'd have to think about it to get a better grasp of what was going on, though. For Doctor Archeville's part, the tentacles down below did indeed bear a strong resemblance to his own neural inhibitors: indeed, he was scientist enough to recognize his own work. But if he was right, his counterpart's research had gone in different directions than he'd anticipated. In addition to sapping the will and increasing suggestibility, the biotechnology below seemed to be greatly increasing the intellect! For the small price of removing one's independent willpower, the equipment below could turn a normal man into a genius! Dark Star's powers provided concealment for them as they approached closer to the mountain, leaving behind where the battle raged between the EDF and the forces loyal to The Archeville. But how were they to get inside?

"We don't need to pay," said Mark agreeably, "the tickets I got will get us right in the door. And we shouldn't need ID unless we're trying to buy beer or something, and I don't think we're gonna do that. We don't wanna be like the Danger party." All the Claremont kids had heard about the fallout from that little incident, and no one wanted to be like those kids. "All right, I'm gonna run upstairs, print off the tickets, and give Chris Kenzie a call. See you in a few." With that he turned and headed upstairs, running right back up and giving everyone's favorite airship pilot a call.

"Nah, I've been going here since I was thirteen," said Mark, gently setting Alex down once he was sure she was all right. "My folks decided to run off to Brazil for their second honeymoon, though, so I got sent back here a little early. I live over in Ashton." He shook Erin's hand, a smile on his face. "Mark Lucas. They call me Edge when I'm in costume. So can all of you fly?" he asked, looking around among all the new faces. "Because that's pretty cool, I've gotta say. All I can usually manage is swinging around on a grapple line."

"Sweet!" said Mark, well-pleased. He turned and clapped Mike on the shoulder. "You see? I knew these fine ladies would be up for a little adventure." Back to Erin and Alex, he added, "And I think you both look great, by the way. I like your flower," he told Alex with a warm smile. "It's cute. And you've got a good thing going on too, Erin," he went on, not wanting to seem impolite. "If you've got pocket money, we can get cafe food there, or brownbag something from the cafe if that would work better. Y'know, whichever." He shrugged. He looked genuinely baffled by Mike's question for a minute, scratching his chin. "I dunno, I usually don't think about stuff like that. I don't think anyone's going to notice how we're dressed; I mean, there will be a decent amount of people there, and it'll be dark when they're playing. I'm just going to wear what I've got." Mark, as it happened, was in something close to his school uniform, all blues and golds, an outfit that had obviously been treated with love. "I don't think it's that big a deal."

"I'm not the woman I was, Ace," said Marionette with a strange smile that might have been seductive under other circumstances. "Not after you killed me. Did you hear about that, I wonder?" She folded her long, lovely fingers into a steeple on the desk. "What happened to me, when they put me in that government loony bin? They pumped so many drugs into me that I couldn't think, I couldn't move...I couldn't even control my bladder!" Her icy demeanor was replaced with raw, murderous rage for half a moment, before the icy, seductive calm came back into place. "I couldn't do anything but lay there in my own filth as that fat screw took a pillow and held it down over my face until I stopped breathing!" She slammed her fist on the table. "I went places after that, Ace, and I saw things." She gave a low, too-fast laugh. "I learned a lot of lessons from that, Ace. You'd be surprised what you'll think about when you don't have a body, when you don't have feeling, when everything you are is focused on pulling yourself out of the darkness down below. But that's over now, Ace, and now I'm back. Allison Gellar cared about the Soviet Union, Ace. I cared about that look on your face when you came walking inside the door and saw your little niece there standing just one step away from being one Danger who didn't get to be eighty years old." She tilted her head, still smiling, as she twisted the knife. "About that...do you think she's going to blame you when she gets old and withers away and you're still young and handsome? Do you think your mom blamed your dad when she got all brittle and frail and he was still running around with his drinking buddies?"

Have an HP for the complication, Ace. We could roll for initiative now if you want, but that might be hazardous to Rachel's heath.

Karen Rogers, Rachel's secretary, greeted Ace with a smile when he reached his niece's twenty-first story office. "Hi, Mr. Danger! Good to see you! Ms. Danger's with a client right now, but she said I should go ahead and buzz you in." She leaned down over the intercom and pressed the button on the brass box on her desk, the old-fashioned office electronics a legacy of the company's history. "Ms. Danger? Your uncle is here." A voice squawked back inviting Ace in, and the heavy oak office doors opened at his touch. For a bare moment, Ace thought nothing was wrong. Rachel's full-length windows were open, showing off the lovely view of the downtown she had from her CEO's office, and his niece's office was as efficiently organized as ever. That was, at least, until he saw that his niece standing out on the balcony ledge, nothing but a few inches of concrete between her and the ground below! Before he could do more than take a step towards her, he heard a low, purring, unfamiliar voice. "I wouldn't do that, Mr. Danger. If you break her concentration..." The woman in the high leather chair swung the seat around, becoming visible for the first time as she smiled wickedly at Ace. "Or mine, she just might go...splat." The lovely woman in the chair wasn't familiar to Ace, but he recognized the costume she was wearing. The tight red leather suit; the black gloves and boots, the hammer and sickle epaulets...she was wearing the costume of the Marionette; the Communist mind-controller who'd so bedeviled Freedom City's superheroes in the late 40s and early 50s. But she'd been dead fifty years...hadn't she? "You like the old costume?" she asked in a sing-song voice. "I pulled it out of mothballs just for you. So you would remember."

"Never been to a concert, eh? Well, then I guess I'm not the only lucky one today." Mark laughed. "Madman Finale's pretty kicking; they're like Weezer for the new generation. Their concerts are a lot of fun, and there are always interesting people there." To soothe Erin's worries, he added, "Nah, it's not that crazy mosh-pit stuff. Some of their music's fast and dancy, but for the most part it's just fun listening and singing-along stuff. It's in a cafe down by FCU, so it's not going to get filled up and crazy anyway. I figure afterwards we can hang out, maybe see what there is to do around the university before we get back? It should be pretty fun."

"Everything's fine here," replied Rachel, a smile in her voice. "Really, Ace. I just want you to get out here and deal with this. It shouldn't take too long." Rachel certainly wasn't using any of the usual code-words to hint that there was a crisis, it just sounded like she was very determined to bring her uncle out there. "We'll do lunch afterwards, maybe out to that Greek place you like around the corner? It'll be fab."

"Hey, Erin," said Edge, smiling at her. He knew Erin came from circumstances and had had a pretty hard time of it, if not the specifics. Surely a good time out would be just the thing for her. "And hey, Alex," he added, looking past Erin's shoulder. "I scored six free tickets to the Madman Finale concert at FCU; they're a kick-ass alternative rock band that's really popular in college. You guys want to come out to the concert tonight? It starts at seven. Mike says he's up for it, and we need to fill up our set."

"Sweet!" Mark clapped him on the shoulder, before pausing to briefly consider his good pal's thought. "A ride? Huh. Yeah, that's the thing if we're coming back late." He thought for a minute. "I've got it! You know Chris Kenzie, right? Dude's got this sweet flying ride he can take in and out of wherever he wants. We'll get him to take us out there, park it somewhere out of the way, and it'll be great." Not pausing to consider even for a moment that Geckoman might be busy or not interested, much less formulate an alternate plan, Mark stopped to put on his Claremont jacket. "I'll go down and invite Alex and Erin along. Guys and girls night out, best way to be, right?" He headed out the door without a backwards look, walking downstairs and humming a jaunty Madman Finale tune as he headed for Alex and Erin's door. He found it half-closed, and gave a firm rap on the door frame. "Hey guys! Guess what I've got!" he called through the door.

Aight, Ace passes by 1 thanks to his Bluff Skill Mastery. Rachel sounds a little odd. She's definitely determined to get Ace over there, and very concerned at any hesitation he shows.

This is the thread for the Claremont kids and their evening activities.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when Mike came back just in time to see his new roommate on the phone. With the exception of his interest in Alex, Mark was certainly a model roommate by most standards. He'd filled his desktop bookshelf with books that on closer inspection turned out to be the assigned and suggested reading for the summer history classes as well as various other books on the history of Freedom City's superheroes, and usually left his top-of-the-line laptop sitting on his desk when he wasn't out doing things. His half of the walls had a couple of posters up, a retro B&W shot of the old Liberty League and a more recent Alex Ross painting of the League active in the late 1960s. As Mike came in, Mark was sitting in his desk chair, flipping a silver dollar over and over again as he listened intently to whoever he was talking to on his cell. "Yes! Yes, I am here!" Just as he started speaking, a white-toothed grin on his handsome face, the coin he'd been flipping landed perfectly on its edge dead center of his desk. "Yes! All right, I'll print the tickets off pronto. And I love The Entity for all my alternative rock! Woo!" Grinning, he hung up the phone and jumped up, grabbing the coin off his desk and slipping it into his pocket. "Hey Mike, guess what?" He grinned at his roommate, who he'd started treating as his best buddy the minute he walked in. "I was caller number eleven at WNTT, and so I got six free tickets to the Madman Finale concert tonight at FCU! You want to go rock out with the college kids? It'll be great!"

Ace, gimmie a Sense Motive check. Your DC is 31

This is the OOC thread for Ace Danger's encounter with Marionette II.

The Monday after the 4th of July was a busy time for Ace. After enjoying yet another patriotic celebration in the capital of Freedom, he was back in business and that meant dealing with the various issues and situations that he'd had to put off for the holiday weekend. Even for a man who'd lived a whole lifetime and more, the cycle of business and holidays never went away. He was just trying to decide which one of Freedom City's many fine restaurants would serve him for lunch when his cellphone rang. A familiar voice was on the other end of the line; his niece, Rachel Danger. She sounded hard-working as always, with the slightly harried tone of any good business executive in this economy. "Hey, Uncle Ace: can you swing by my office ASAP? I've got an important matter here that requires your attention. I need your help in dealing with the Prophet situation. Normally I wouldn't ask, but...this is something only you can deal with." Ace was of course familiar with his family's business dealings with the Prophet clan, it was the sort of routine-but-urgent matter that was one reason he usually let Rachel run the show.

Dusk-Stalker had made the modest choice to stay behind with the wounded, tending to their injuries and helping the fallen. He could see that no one was seriously hurt, but many were frightened and injured by the terrifying gorilla-eagle and the damage he'd done around the bank. "Thank you, sir!" said one of the guards, who'd gotten tossed to another side of the room. "Lord knows what that monster would have done to us if he'd gotten the chance! The cops are on the way; shouldn't you see if your friend needs any help?" Up in the air, the Golden Guardian easily caught up with Tyranny Eagle, throwing a massive blow that just missed the surprisingly agile gorilla's body. "Fool! You shouldn't have left your friend!" laughed the Eagle, though the wild punch he threw Guardian's way somewhat weakened the impression of avian ape menace he was trying to project. With a malevolent leer he flapped his wings higher and higher, pulling both of them further up into the stratosphere as Guardian followed him. "See you if you dare follow where I go!"

Concentrating, Phantom was easily able to sense the native dimension where the unfortunate Ray Trask came from. For all his fear, the world wasn't one that was particularly on the 'watch list' of dimensional guardians the way the Romero Earths or Anti-Terra-Roma was. Rather, he was from a singleton Earth in a dimension not very far away, one recently taken over by its local Dark Lord. That meant a world ruled by wicked magic, a place under the absolute thumb of one man. In the context of the multiverse, though, rule by a Dark Lord was by no means the worst thing that could happen to a particular dimension. Still, that didn't make it any better for those who lived under its rule. "...he first appeared about twelve years ago," said Trask, the words squeezed out through his obvious fear. "In Britain. He...we thought it was no big thing at first until Britannia started working for him. And then Odysseus, and then..." He shook his head. "And then he came for the Brigade. You don't know what it's like, man! He put the world over his knee and there was nothing we could do about it! He took Columbia's kids, and gave Valhalla over to Donar, and let Odysseus do whatever he wanted with Medea, and..." He shook his head again, sorrowfully. "Every dream I had as a kid died the day he appeared over Freedom City. Most of us didn't even fight back."

I'm sure you've changed the passcodes in thirty years, thought Summers, modestly downplaying his own abilities as a sneak and safecracker. I'll have the information about working one-on-one with particular students passed along to you. As I mentioned, I have one student in particular who I think is particularly in need of your guidance. There was something like a low chuckle from his mind. I'll leave the rest up to your discretion. The worst threat you're liable to find there will be some of our students who are particularly enamored of the heroes of the past. I'll make sure you have your privacy. He was about to go circulate when something seemed to cross his mind. :bat: Oh, and give your friend my compliments. I've only seen that trick done better once before. Summers was too polite to press the point further. He had mellowed in his old age.

"Suggest we continue the conversation somewhere more privately," suggested Avenger, tapping at his temple. Assuming Scarab took the suggestion and read his mind, Jack dared actually think at the other hero, consciously growling even in the private confines of his own head. Can meet you there once these are gone. Make it easier to deal with Mears if he has not had time to plan.

Avenger opted not to reply to the psychic message at first, though he had relented enough to make sure Scarab knew he was there. Surely it was just a simple matter of getting through the fire into the houses where he might find wounded? Dimensional rift? Was the explosion dimensional? he asked as he cunning slipped between two bonfires, picking his way along unsteady ground with the unhappy knowledge that if he fell here, he'd fall for sure and have no way of doing anything about it. But he had to do something!

Who do you think you are? Barging in on me and my thread-tar? Little Shaen hey! The door is that way! You better go, you know the thread is out anyway.

Down below, over Germany, the two heroes found the Black Forest in flames. The Eagle Defense Squadron apparently got their names from the jet-powered wings they wore, each wing harness carrying one armored, helmeted soldier wielding what looked like an impressively advanced blaster rifle. In the air and on the ground, the Eagles were engaged with a rag-tag army of what looked at first glance like scrappy resistance fighters battling the world-state, each of them wearing mismatched uniforms and carrying old-fashioned projectile weapons. At least until they got close enough to see that each and every resistance fighter had a splay of tentacles across their scalps that made it look like they all had sea anemones for hair. Something very peculiar was going on here. It was an easy matter to find the centerpiece for the two armies; the Eagles in a flying carrier at the edge of the horizon that looked like an actual aircraft carrier given wings, and "the Archeville" down below in the heart of the looming Feldberg itself.

"Aagh!" Trask strugged, trying to grow, but was too thoroughly pinned down by Scarab's telekinesis. "We didn't do anything! He...he said he had ways of dealing with the Freedom League, because he'd done it before, but you were new!" He looked imploringly at Scarab, and at Phantom. "Lord help us, he's got Rachel's kids back home! I saw what he did to the Beaumont girls, I wasn't going to let that happen to Rachel's kids! Please, please, just send her back, she can tell him I died over here, and that way he won't be angry..." He stopped wriggling, giving the Scarab and Phantom a thoroughly defeated look. "You don't know what it's like over there. There's no one left who cares. No one." It took Avenger a little while to figure out how to work Scarab's equipment, having not been paying a huge amount of attention when he'd seen her operating it in the past. When he did succeed in calling Archeville's place, he was a little concerned when he didn't hear any results. "If they were coming for the Knights, and we all got a visitor...and Archeville's NOT THERE..." He looked up at the others, eyes wide behind his mask.