Avenger Assembled

"No, the flowers were beautiful," Jack told her truthfully. "You really...you really made everyone at the party happy, Stesha. You did a wonderful job with them." He made a small noise. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I hope you got along OK with Merry; I know how she can be sometimes." Right now, he thought, Merry was probably digging her way through one of the small animals that had been procured to satisfy her initial cravings the night before.

Sidetrack turned at the last minute as Grimalkin struck, Grimalkin's claws skating along her skin just deep enough to hurt. "Argh!" A look of angry panic on her face, she dropped to her feet and grabbed her unconscious girlfriend. "That's it! When we come back, we're going to kill you all!" And with that, she vanished in a sudden flash of light, the two battered mercenaries looking more than ready to get far, far away from their antagonists. That left Grimalkin and Divine surrounded by the wounded and still-blinded, where only a few people had yet recovered from the awesome shock of Sidetrack and Targette's arrival.

Since he doesn't need his Flight array right now, Odysseus is going to power-stunt a Distracting Full Action Cone Area Plasma Control 12 off it. We'll say it's got both Affects Insubstantial on it, since he is leaving himself open for one heck of a counter-strike from Dark Star. DC 22 Reflex saves, gentlemen, with DC 27 Tou saves if you do poorly.

Jinking wildly in the air, Odysseus pulled off a shockingly fast piece of aerobatics as he dodged Dr. Archeville's radio burst. "Fools!" came his voice on the radio again. "You leave me no choice but to take extreme measures!" Still clinging to the fast-moving Dark Star like a New England whaler to a punctured sperm whale, Odysseus began to glow visibly, the magical and alchemical sigils on his armor glowing brightly as they shifted and warped around on the living metal that covered his skin. "Feel the might of Apollo's Wrath!" As the heroes watched, a gout of flame came bursting from Odysseus's outstretched hands, burning past the metal chains around Dark Star to strike at both of them!

Stesha's phone rang early the next evening, not long after she'd gotten off her shift at work. Stesha wasn't the type to check numbers; when the phone in her pocket rang as she walked in her apartment door, she answered it. "Hi, Stesha," came Jack's familiar voice. "Do you have a minute?" Jack was in his own apartment as they talked, recuperating from a really wild party as well as a battle with his own ego and sense of morals.

And yes, Jack is still in the bathroom. And for those wondering where Geckoman's teachers are, they're giving the PCs a chance to shine. :D

Pompadour's pleasantries were not regarded. When the door was closed, Summers took a few steps back and studied Pompadour. Brett Mason was taller, broader, and younger than Summers, but the older man's regard was like cold steel as it peered into his soul. :bat: "You've had a difficult night, Mr. Mason." There was none of the taunting, the arrogance the other man might have expected in the words, even as he casually disregarded the younger man's preference for address with the ease of the old. :bat: "I'm familiar with the work that Amanda Carlson has done on your behalf, converting your public image from former mental patient and criminal to superhero." He didn't pace, didn't move, didn't look away; he simply stared into Brett Mason's soul from his position a few feet away."She would be the first to tell you the fragility of reputation. You understand how easily this night could break you." The words weren't a threat, and weren't presented as such; they were an old man stating plain and simple facts. He ticked points off, one after the other, laying out an indictment that brought back memories of padded rooms and steel cages. :bat: "A former mental patient was seen in the company of a hallucinating teenager. Seconds later, he was then seen in an ugly little dispute with two other teenagers, both of whom will incriminate him on the witness stand. When cornered by a respectable citizen, he used an emotion-controlling gas on the crowd of superheroes and attempted to leave the scene, only to be successfully neutralized by Ace Danger. Your actions tonight will be used as proof that your initial 'cure' was unsuccessful. Having fooled the police, the courts, and the Raven, the authorities will conclude that you are too dangerous to be allowed out of their custody until they can be sure you have been successfully cured. No superhero will examine your case a second time as closely as the Raven did the first. There are enough of the wrong people in the crowd outside to tear down everything you've built for yourself in the name of justice and the law." Summers regarded Pompadour, finality in his face and voice. :bat: "I am aware of the efforts that have been expended on your behalf. This is your opportunity to reciprocate them."

Rather than make everyone make lots of saves against effects (not much of a drama thing, there), I will leave up to the PCs to decide what course of actions they take in this situation.

The crowd was swayed briefly by Pompadour's pheromones, the spray wafting out over the assembly, until Daisy began blubbering loudly into the arms of her boyfriend, who'd have been pretty darn glad that his crimes had been covered if he hadn't been in the middle of the typhoon of weepy emotion that was Daisy Gibbons in a fit of pique. No one could feel anything but sad; that close. Further away, a good majority of the crowd was now beginning to react very differently to Pompadour. It was the young Fletcher Beaumont IV, previously busy looking on with mortal embarassement at the behavior of the current students of his alma mater, who raised his head curiously, sniffing at the air, and suddenly pointed at Pompadour. "Hey, do you smell that? That's coming from him!" "I bet he made that boy freak out!" someone else called. "And that girl, too!" As for Mr. Hawke, he didn't do a darn thing about Pompadour refusing his offer of help. He was much more concerned about his students, and broke with the tete a tete to go over and speak in a low, firm, though not-unsympathetic tone to the crying Daisy, whose face had turned a shade of red that was practically a blasphemy on those lovely cheeks. While Ace was still trying to decide how to navigate a crowd torn between the emotional manipulations of two very skilled practitioners of those arts, he felt a familiar presence at his sleeve. How did he move so fast, and so quietly, with a cane? It was unreal. :bat: "Ace. I need Mr. Mason for a moment." Duncan Summers turned an eye on Pompadour, one that was oddly familiar despite the fact that the former supervillian had no recollection of ever meeting the wealthy investor before. :bat: "Walk with me."

All right, consultation finished. Pompadour's Emotion Control is insufficient to counter Daisy Gibbons' Bluff check of 45. While she rolled fairly well there, her Bluff modifier with her Boosted Charisma is so high that it is impossible for Pompadour's powers to overcome her social skills. (Hey, it turns out NPCs are affected by the social skills of the people around them.) Lacking the Subtle power feat, Pompadour's powers are immediately obvious to everyone around him. (As was Daisy's Boost (Charisma), which is what got the attention of her instructors. Contrary to scurrilous rumors to the contrary, this is the only actual superpower her character has used in the course of the party.) Hopefully, the HP freshly acquired from his new complication will help him deal with this.

Divine's words fell across the battlefield like bombs, her teasing a taunt striking right at Sidetrack's soul rather than a flirt that struck at her body. She might as well as driven a dagger through her heart. "You-you-you-" Divine's sheer affrontery completely took Sidetrack off-guard, the Labyrinth thug staring at her in open-mouthed shock and awe. "You just-but she-..." Her voice broke off into stutters, then came back a moment later. "How could you-My God, it! WHY YOU GOTTA BE THAT WAY, HUH?" She screamed, clutching the side of her head.

She fails, and is Distracted.

Dramatic GM Voice: Are you sure?

Ecal, you're entitled to another Will save vs. Confuse at this juncture, to which you are at +1. Go ahead and roll again if you fail.

Oh, and Avenger is not trying to be sneaky on this one. Yet.

Grimalkin's cleverly-placed bag missed, her mercenary opponent ripping off the bag and whipping her gun around to point right at the pixie. "I've got you now," she yelled triumphantly, a moment before Divine crashed through the ceiling and landed on her. There was a huge crash as both women hit the stone floor with an enormous crunch, and dead silence from Sidetrack before she looked up, swore, and disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing right next to the still-unconscious Targette.

So far everything looks good, Warmonger. I just have to run a quick check with Doc Arch, and I may be able to give you your first approval. :D

OK, should those of us shifting through the rubble start making Notice/extended Search checks at this juncture? Avenger is looking for survivors or anything else dangerous. Probably not at the center of the explosion. If so: Notice: (I really should use Skill Mastery): 15 Search (1): 23 Search (2): 10 Search (3): 5 Search (4): 17 Search (5) 21 Also, is Malice is visible at this juncture? Is he notorious enough in March to be recognized on sight?

Have an HP for the Complication, Fell. The results of Student Body's Bluff check with Boosted Charisma are...obscene. I'll leave it up to the PCs to describe their reactions/resistance to the sad little icon of beauty; but the NPCs are certainly moved.

A little belatedly, Pompadour remembered what happened when you talked to girls like Daisy Gibbons like that. "Bawwww!" She burst into tears in a sudden explosion of pain, her face screwing up in the angst and pain that only a teenager could summon. Her angry pain seemed to come boiling out of her lovely face like a volcano, suddenly shifting the attention of half the bystanders in the room from the crazy teenager on the mushrooms to the very, very, unhappy teenager. "Why do you have to be so mean!?" she screamed, pointing right at Pompadour. "Why would you even talk like that when I was trying to be nice to you?!" Everyone was staring now, and none of the looks seemed to be friendly. Even the people who Student Body's unspeakable good looks weren't ensnaring weren't at all thrilled at the man who'd just told off the teenage girl half his size, or who'd disrupted their party, or who'd been involved at all in what on Earth those teenagers were doing over there. Pompadour realized that between him and the door was a very large man who looked decidedly unimpressed. "You want to watch how you talk to my students?" the gigantic man with the improbable muscles behind the suit boomed. Peering down at Pompadour, a wall of muscle behind an expensive suit, Leeroy Hawke leaned close. "It takes a real big man to talk that way to a girl who can't even drive." He turned and pointed at Student Body, who was now being comforted by her date and several other men who had taken a serious interest in her case. It was like watching moths approaching a flame, closer and closer, men and women both sympathetic to the plight of the so-sad girl who looked less like a teen sexpot and more like a child who'd just seen her favorite toy crushed under the foot of a big mean man. The former Turbo-Boost studied Pompadour for a moment, then put a hand on his shoulder, looking almost sympathetic to the other man's plight for a moment. Hawke was in his late 30s, but looked older, a legacy of the Max he'd been on back in the day. Now that they were so close together, Pompadour recognized Hawke as well, the former supervillian having been a frequent speaker at the community service lectures that had been a requirement of Pompadour's time as a guest of a certain facility run by the state in the Freedom City area. Hawke had done some hard time for some fairly hard crimes, though he'd turned himself around after getting out of stir and made something of himself on the talk circuit. "I thought I recognized you." Hawke drew back, looking down at Pompadour. "I know what you're going through. Going straight where the whole world can see it is a tough ball of wax." He shook his massive head sorrowfully. "But if you don't go back there and apologize, gossip about this party's going to be how the Sinister Pompadour is such a big man that he makes little girls cry. And when _that_ girl cries, the whole city hears it." Nearby, someone snapped a picture on their cameraphone. Inside the men's bathroom, Jack put his ear against the door, listening...then put his face in his palm as he walked away stealthily before it could swing open. Come to a nice human party. You'll fit in there great! Yeah, great! He settled down in a stall and closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool porcelain behind him. I don't know how to talk to people if I'm not beating them up or trying to finesse my way into their neck! What's wrong with me? Oh, right, vampire.

Aiype, the carnage! Mah tiny mind!

Yay! OK, did you have anything else you wanted out of this thread?

When Seven was reassembled entirely, she released her bow, the arrow firing off in a single, mathematically perfect arc that hurled itself far into the sunset. With that she turned to Psyche, a smile on her face. "Congratulations, Psyche. You have passed your test. Come rouse yourself, and meet me in the gardens so we can talk." With a sisterly smile, she faded from view entirely, leaving Alex alone in her mental landscape with her victory.

And yes, Jack is there, watching. The louse.

Jack Faretti was a brave man, one willing to face the perils of a monstrous enemy, a wicked foe, or a terrible physical threat at any moment. But faced with talking to the woman who he'd treated shabbily on a date and dumped without a word in-edge wise, he lacked the courage to actually stop her and speak to her as she made her way out of the house and out to the floral van.