Avenger Assembled

Avenger looked surprised as well, as much as his facial expressions could be recognized through his double hockey and ski mask. For the first time, Nightrival saw the man's 'character' crack just a tiny bit. "I..." He peered into the darkness of the car, his eyes widening. "It...Zombie. Nightrival; zombie." Sure enough, there was no blood in the car, only dust and the faint smell of decay as the headless corpse leaned over on the seat, an ashy stump poking up above the collar. "Zombie selling zombie powder. Already dead. And that means..." Avenger looked over at the noisy warehouse, deep concern in his eyes. "Monsters."

Hokay, that's a use of Sneak Attacks, my fancy new knife, Intimidate as a Move Action, Takedown Attack, and my best purple comics prose. :D

Avenger's menacing, malevolent laughter broke into the noise of combat in the alley, the sound black and terrible, like the cackling of a fiend from Hell itself. "You play at combat?" A fist rocketed out of the mist, smashing into the back of one blademaster's head with a terrible concussion, sending the man staggering. "You fight? You kill?" Another one dropped, this one holding a leg slashed open by a gleaming mystical knife that had emerged in a black-gloved hand as if from the shadows itself. "You are nothing!" The knife was back, smashing butt-first into the face of one fully-armored man who dropped like a poleaxed steer. "Let me show you!" roared Avenger, who erupted out of the mist, showing himself fully for the first time as he powered through the tear gas like a man possessed, hammering a mighty fist into the belly of one of the last standing swordsmen, a look of sheer malevolent rage burning in his ice-blue eyes as he spectacularly intervened in the darkened alley!

Okay, looks like we're just waiting on Shaen right now.

The fast-moving heroes arrived at Dikto Street after only a few seconds in the air, Dark Star's fantastic speed and Scarab's psychic perceptions letting them navigate through the skyscape of Freedom with fantastic speed. Their target turned out to be on a cul-de-sac near the end of Ditko Street, a small curve where the street slowly began transforming into the small shops and dockside factories of the rest of that district. The Precious Blood Church was clearly visible as they made their descent, the bloody obscurity noted by Scarab during her earlier scan no longer present...at least, no longer present to any senses she was using currently. Jack was tense as they flew, impassive though he was behind the grim and gritty mask of Avenger. What if I was right? Could he fight this monster, with these people? Navigating was a bit more challenging for Belphegor; after all, translating a street address from the air without benefit of Google Maps is a challenge even for the demonic. Still, he was a cunning and careful flier, and managed to avoid apparent detection despite his off-handed bit of fun with that unfortunate pair as he took off. The question was, what to do now?

Avenger is a gritty vigilante, the sort of superhero who keeps the streets clean by striking mortal terror deep into the souls of criminals. He's never killed anybody, but he's certainly seriously injured a great many bad guys. He's a lot more violent than Raven or Foreshadow, that's for sure! He's got a good record, though, and though he's a relatively new hero has been active all over the city combating bad guys of various sorts.

Well-Informed would work.

Also, everyone should roll Notice! Avenger's Notice is 20. The Monster's Stealth is 23

"Not hard. You just need to use what the sewer gives you." Avenger made his way toward the pair slowly, his boots wet on the slick floor. His costume is home-made and well-worn, but from the marks on his gloves and feet those patches on his soles and knuckles got worn out the old-fashioned way. "Avenger. Tell me what's down here." As he spoke, he peered into the gloom all around them, cold, ice-blue eyes narrowing in the patch of white just visible that was his face.

Moira should roll Streetwise to find out what she knows about him. :D

Down in the Scarab's lair, Avenger sprang quickly into action at his ally's call. "On it. I can..." He looked at Dark Star, a thoughtful look in his ice-blue eyes, before nodding. "Can't move fast on my own," he agreed. "Won't take up space. Need to get to church." He was on his feet quickly, already heading for the door and the way out. "See anything else?" he urgently asked Scarab. "Rites, words?" Across town, Jos had found some interesting things. A new fringe cult has recently split from the local Satanists, the new faith a blending of Satanic and Gothic imagery in a way seen only in the pages of cheap, tawdry occult exploitation novels...and unspeakably foul demonic cults. The Blood Brotherhood has leased the former Precious Blood Church on Ditko Street, much to the aggravation of the occultists who used to use the area for their own blasphemous rites. They've avoided trouble with other occultists so far by paying them off in cold, hard cash; though they're not friendly, they are very generous with what appears to be an ample supply of funds. In particular, the Brotherhood catches Jos' attention because of the doctrines they believe. Soon, very soon, the sacrifice of the son will deliver the Blood God to Earth, where his followers shall reign in wicked darkness forevermore...

Hmm, that seems unduly complicated. Why not just have an interstitial (the people who need to sleep sleep) and have them all get together at the same time? (After all, Avenger didn't call Scarab for help until after he got his Intervention...)

"Heard you folks had a problem." Though Jack knew his friends would probably take him appearing behind them poorly, he had to stay in-character as Avenger. That meant, once he'd packed off Roman Michaels in a cab to the nearest police station, that Jack Faretti had needed to disappear into the sewers to find his friends. Avenger was a dark, menacing figure as he walked stealthily towards the pair down the walkway the sewer workers usually used. He looked very little like Jack, who was shorter, leaner, and with very different mannerisms. It was certainly hard to picture Jack in a hockey mask and black cloak, for that matter, looking like a slasher movie character as much as a superhero. "Got a call on the line. Something about a monster?" Not far away, something sniffed the air and made a low grunt, turning back into the stream of filthy rainwater it had been wading in. Fresh meat? There was only one good way to find out.

Hokay, it's Nightrival, the two thugs, then Avenger, as the zombie driver just lost all of his actions...permanently!

Spotting Avenger was no easy task in the darkness of the city, especially not when Avenger himself was taking such great pains not to be seen. The truth of the matter was, Avenger had simply crept across the street in shadowy mist form and positioned himself directly beneath the passenger door of the parked limo. When Nightrival moved into action, theoretically it would be easy enough for Avenger himself to vault the car and take out the driver with a good shot right through the half-open car window. Beneath Nightrival's feet, he could feel a bass rhythm through the soles of his boots, the pulsing rhythm of what might be Haitian music coming through the roof. Someone inside Kingston Trucking likes dance hall music, and they like it loud. That'll make life a little easier on them once they begin the fight. For his part, down below, Avenger had no idea where his putative ally was. After some consideration, he opted to get things off with a bang! He sprang into action and vaulted the car in one smooth motion, driving his booted foot through the window in a sudden, powerful kick! It was a mighty blow that shatters the glass in a sudden burst of noise. The kick would have been perfect except for the little complication that the driver's head exploded! Before Avenger could react to that, he realized that his boot was caught in the door, and that the men behind him were raising their guns...

Could be worse! ;)

Scarab's bold words got her an animalistic hiss in reply, the man making diabolic gestures in the air. As she watched, the air around the man began to turn red and dripping, waves of unspeakable crimson washing through the air in an obscuring tide. Within minutes, the whole building was solidly blanked from sight. Fortunately, as the builder of this lair and its inhabitant for decades, Scarab was well able to navigate even when her senses were displaced elsewhere. Outside the obscuring bloody mist, she could see passersby on Ditko Street going back and forth quite normally; evidently that great red mystic dome was either invisible to their eyes or only visible to her. - "Me? Ancient Chinese secret," Avenger replied. "The mask, the nom de guerre, strike fear. The real name, the real face; no." He laughed. "Or maybe this is my real face. It's hard to remember these nights. Seems like I'm everywhere." He hesitated a moment, then added with a faint trace of wonder in his gruff voice, "Space travel, huh? Ever fight a Grue?"

OK, I think it's safe to assume that no one will make the Notice DC to spot Avenger approaching, what with the SWAT team making their way through tear gas at night and the other two in melee combat. It is, natch, 27 if they want to try.

The dogged Avenger took his erstwhile partner at her word. "Get it done. Good work." When he saw her gathering up the papers, he told her "I'll get help" The best way to give yourself a street rep, he imagined, was to act like you already had one. When Annalynn was busy, Avenger walked out into the shadow again, taking advantage of his natural abilities to simply disappear into the hallway. Once there, and well-hidden from prying eyes, he dissolved into mist and drifted up the stairs. Once on the street, he reformed near a police officer who'd been speaking urgently into his radio about getting some backup for SWAT. "Lady in the building needs help!," he shouted. "Stopped merc gang cold! Need cops!" With that deed done, he stayed around just long enough to make sure he was being listened to before heading over to see what all the fuss in the alley was about.

Hey guys, about to stage my triumphant return, yay! Since we're short a Ref, do you have any objection to my running the monster? I do have a few ideas...

Make an ESP power check, Scarab. And Bel, check your PM box. ;)

"Fancy tools, like Raven?" Avenger pointed to Nightrival's belt with a questioning air. Hey, how did he know what a utility belt looked like? Maybe he needed to invest in one of those..."If not, suggest we take them by surprise. I drop down from roof, take doormen, you take man in car? Not used to working with partner," he admitted.

"Scarab's thinkin'. She does that." Avenger looked up at the Egyptian art with a gleam in his ice-blue eyes, expression naturally very hard to read behind his mask and his odd body language. "Psychic powers." Standing before an image of a prince rising from the dead somewhere in medieval Europe, Avenger turned his sharp gaze on Dark Star. "Cooperation. Scarab has skills. I have skills. And you?" The question was a little vague, but from the look in Avenger's eye he was definitely interested in Dark Star's answer. - The city opened to Scarab like a Nile hippo's yawn; magnificent and deceptively dangerous all at the same time. There were the usual impassable islands where her vision never seemed to work just right; parts of Ditko Street and Midtown, Lantern Hill and the South Side, but for the most part things were remarkably open to her tonight. Then again, weren't they always? She found "Lockpick" in an unexpected place; the high-class burglar was nearly unrecognizable in a classy tuxedo at the Atlantis Casino. He's not at the table, though; instead the man was playing cards in a backroom with four bleary-eyed men in loud suits and slick hair. One of the men did a line of coke off the table while Scarab watches, but the men are mostly interested in the game. "Tonnifanni," as the others call him, AKA Lockpick, was winning this round. Though everyone seemed friendly at the table, Scarab could tell the others weren't very happy with Tonnifani's good fortune. From the sound of things, he'd come to the table already flush. She found the other man just at the edge of the obscured areas around Dikto Street, standing inside an old church evidently refitted for some dire purpose. Scarab had only the time to catch a few words of the man's talk, though, ending with "...and soon the master will rise, and the blood will be ours!" before suddenly the hooded man looked up and stared straight into Scarab's psychic gaze! "I CAN SEE YOU!" he shouted, even as the crowd around him screamed and gamboled in the height of their religious ecstasy.

Hm; anyone heard anything from Razorback?

Avenger showed himself upon Scarab's arrival, simply stepping out of the shadows alongside Dark Star as they headed inside the Scarab's massive underground lair. As always, it was quite a challenge to tell if he was some sort of stealthy teleporter or simply very, very sneaky. Having seen this particular show once already, he simply nodded as Scarab spoke, staring up at the Egyptian-themed paintings on the wall with an expression on his masked face that was supremely difficult to read. "Resurrection and the Life," he growled as he looked up at Osiris rising from the dead, showing his usual grasp of theological niceties. "C'mon, I'll show you where she keeps the good booze," he added to Dark Star in a comradely way as he led the younger man down the way Scarab had directed.