Electra

Wander hissed as the bullet hit her shoulder, but didn't let the flash of pain slow her down. She was already more than a little annoyed about being lied to and played for a fool by the ancient warrior, and shooting her just pissed her off. She strode through the melee as the Spartoi descended, blocking blows almost absently with her raised forearms and cutting her way through to Jason. Her attack wasn't subtle or clever, she simply reached out and grabbed hold of the rifle, twisting it with her superhuman strength until he had no choice but to release it. "You don't get to come to Earth and use it for your stupid god fights anymore," she told him. "There are rules. And showing up to kill off a bunch of second-rate has-been villains and thinking it'll please your boss? You're wasting your time."

"The utility crews are backed up, we're on our own to try and clear the debris." While Cobalt Templar had been dealing with the cab of the truck, his ally circled around the back, taking in the extent of the damage. "Seems to be pretty wrecked up," she called. "It's going to take both of us to get it off the street. If you need to call an ambulance, send it to the cross-street at Beacham and Vine, they aren't going to get through from the east." She began to peel back the crushed metal shell of the truck, peering in at the darkness to try and get a look at whatever was inside.

If anything, the accident seemed to have caught her even more by surprise than it had Corbin; it took several moments for her to snap to attention, spinning her bat shut and putting it into its sheath on her belt. "Those wires pose an immediate threat," she told him, "but touching them now is too dangerous. I'll contact the authorities and have them cut the power to this area. You check on the driver, and make sure any other civilians stay back." Hopping down from the roof with her cloak fluttering behind her, she used her wrist communicator to get in touch with the police dispatcher.

The scope of the civilian crisis was large enough that Fleur decided to call in some reinforcements. Now that Sanctuary was getting larger and more populated, it had seemed prudent to put some disaster plans into place for various eventualities. A mass-casualty event from Prime had actually been one of the first she'd thought of, and now she could pat herself on the back for her own foresight. A quick call to the monastery and an open portal quickly netted her a half-dozen of the brethren, including their doctor, all of whom were ready to help treat and triage the frightened, confused and hungry ex-prisoners. Fleur took off her mask and pushed back her cowl as she moved quickly among the people, treating the wounded and sick, sending home the ones who just needed a shower and a meal. It seemed like most of the afflicted barely remembered what had happened, and it was probably better that way. Eventually she worked her way around to the dairy manager and his sons. "How are you doing?" she asked them all. "Did you get something to eat?"

She raised a brow at that, looking mildly amused at his discomfort. "She's lucky she didn't lose her kitty, having it out on a night like this one. Are you going to turn in for the evening, then? There doesn't seem to be much going on that requires attention from heroes. And you probably have homework?" she added with just a slight edge of uncertainty. Having eschewed college for the working world herself, Erin knew only secondhand of the world of higher education. "The holiday semester break will be coming soon."

"I haven't fought anything more challenging than the weather so far," she admitted, twitching her cloak to shake some of the water off. "Stopped a drug transaction down by the university, caught a mugger with a utility knife, and that's really all. The traffic is bad, I've seen several accidents, but even the criminals seem to prefer to stay home tonight." She adjusted her hood, tucking her bat under one arm to do so. "How about you? Anything novel on the streets tonight?"

Man, I hate to spend an HP this early in the fight, but being bruised and dazed is not a good option either. Spending an HP! 34, no damage. Wander will make a Disarm check against Jason. The attack succeeds with a 29 Now a contested Strength check. Wander's modifier is 12, plus 3 superstrength, plus 5 from the Inspire. That's a 32.

He saw the moment she made him, her entire posture snapping to alert, her bat twitching fractionally as she assessed the new presence. Wander was never one to take a threat for granted, and it was always better to give her a little time to recognize a friend. Once he'd landed, she rose to her feet and seemed to study him for a moment before her lips curled in a half smile. "Cobalt Templar," she greeted him, her voice only just carrying across the gap of roofs between them. "I don't believe this is your normal patrol route." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Where's Ultiteen tonight?"

December 4, 11pm It was a filthy night in Freedom City, the sort where anyone with a lick of sense would be inside hanging up their holiday decorations and keeping out of the mix of freezing rain and spitting snow that made traffic a hazard and chilled exposed skin to the bone in minutes. A cold wind had blown in off the bay and up the Wading River, howling mournfully around the old apartment buildings and office buildings that made up the neighborhoods of the North End. Only the desperate or predatory were out on the streets on a night like this, but both groups were prime clientele for the only other people about, the heroes of Freedom City. High above the street, a figure flew between the roofs of two buildings, a momentary dark streak against the cloudy sky. She'd been out for hours already, taking care of what needed to be done, but the night was far from over. She'd made one concession to the weather, a dark purple hooded cloak that kept the worst of the rain off her face and back while not impeding her movement. As she crouched on the edge of a building like a gargoyle, a passing headlight momentarily caught the silver of her bat and made it shine like a beacon in the night. That bat was never easy to hide anymore, but luckily, even in Freedom City, few people ever thought to look up.

With Trevor's assurance, Erin hopped up onto the hull of the craft, climbing nimbly up the side to get a look rather than taking the more obvious ramp route. "This is so weird!" she declared with obvious pleasure, peering in through the top porthole and looking at the mysterious electrical doohickeys protruding from the saucer. "Must've been a nice shot that took it down, I don't see a lot of obvious damage." She resisted the temptation to slide down the side and risk damaging the equipment, instead leaping clear to land next to Trevor again. The edge of her dress caught the air and belled out as she landed, reminding her that discretion was the better part of costuming. Smoothing a hand down over her skirt, she peered up the ramp. "I should've brought a flashlight."

While Sharl did the warmups on the bus, Koshiro boarded and took a look around, then changed into his clothes for Erde. Sutbly different from the outfits the others wore, his was modeled more closely on what his counterpart had worn on the trip to Prime. There was no disguising his ethnicity, but with some luck and some brass, it might work for him. The outfit had plenty of pockets, which he quickly filled with his particular brand of paper ammunition. "Still smells like patchouli in here," he commented as he sat down in one of the harness-equipped seats. "But at least the chairs don't look like they're gonna hack up a hairball." He strapped himself in and began nonchalantly folding more cranes, a convenient way to disguise his own case of nerves. As the engine kicked in, he looked up and out of the window, his forehead creasing as the world streamed away.

Wander goes on 18

Fleur gasped as the android's rifle fired its deadly payload at the defenseless Scraps, sending the child tumbling backwards. Gaian Knight's protective wall rose around her as she knelt beside the stricken little boy, enough to prevent further damage, but not enough to stop what had already occurred. "Stop the android!" she called to her comrades, even as she fumbled to find a pulse on Scraps. She breathed a sigh of relief to find it steady and fast, but that relief would be short-lived if they couldn't turn the tide of the fight soon. Gabriel needed to be free to fight, she realized, not trying to pummel the Grue into submission. Through the opening in the wall, Fleur could just see the Grue captain, reeling and helpless, but still active enough to be a threat. The broken vines that surrounded the android came to life again, this time snaking towards the Grue version, wrapping him up in a hold more implacable than the tightest ropes. Within moments he was trussed up like a Sunday roast, just in time for a rather malevolent-looking red and white flower to open over his head and engulf him, leaving only empty space behind.

"I'll be of more use taking a direct hand with the security, I believe," Miss A put in, folding her hands on the desk. "Getting to the servers would be bad, letting them crack the computer system would be worse. Just secure the door as you go, if you please." With that, she leaned her head forward and closed her eyes as though meditating, her golden hair falling down in a curtain to hide her face. At the same instant, her consciousness began expanding through the extensive computer network of the Lab, turning off lights and shutting doors, anything that would slow the process of the intruders and keep the civilian staff out of the line of danger.

Erin didn't bother with another wow, just let out a low whistle as she took in the entirety of the ship. She walked towards it to get a better few, her fingers still linked with Trevors', her white gown nearly brushing the dusty floor. "It's bigger than I thought it would be," she commented. "Like twice the size of a giant bee, but not as big as a space shuttle with all its parts." Crouching, she examined the green metallic surface of the craft, waving a hand cautiously a few inches over the surface. "Has it got any security we have to worry about?" she asked. "Hate to zap myself and get the white streak in my hair for real."

"Absolutely. Take care now," Fleur reminded him, even as the center of the flower seemed to yawn open, revealing the steps in front of the bank. She waited until the new hero stepped through safely onto the streets of Earth Prime, then let the flower close and return to its normal, far more diminutive size. She had to admit, at least to herself, that it was very strange to have a new Beekeeper in town. She'd thought that was one name she wouldn't have to hear again for awhile, with Barry in the institution for the foreseeable future. But this young man seemed sincere, and he'd done well in a crisis and handled himself in front of the giant bees on an entirely different world. Stesha wasn't at all sure she herself would've been as graceful so early in her own career. There was also something oddly familiar about him, now that she thought back on it, but it wasn't anything she could pin down. Maybe it was just something that came with legacy heroes. At any rate, she'd promised to help out, and help out she would. The first thing she'd do, she decided as she turned to walk to the house, was make a few phone calls. Bad enough that she'd hit first and asked questions later, the poor kid didn't need anyone else doing the same thing!

It wasn't as jarring to unmelt as it had been to melt in the first place, but it still took Koshiro a few moments to orient himself to the reality of having a solid body once again. He stood carefully and shook himself, looking around at the others as they, too, pulled themselves together and got out of trouble. He pursed his lips as he watched Wraith racing effortlessly across land and sea, and wondered for a moment if he'd have learned to do that eventually. Better not to find out, really! He was happier as a human, even if the Kinigosi form had offered its share of advantages. With only a trace of hesitation, he raised a hand and beckoned to the pile of fallen cranes at Kimber's feet. For a moment they were quiescent, then with a soft rustle of paper, the pile began to move. Like tiny Phoenixes, the cranes rose, cracking and shaking off the black coating them like ashes, wings gleaming white again as they formed a phalanx and zoomed back to their master. "And we're back!" he announced, a broad grin cracking his features.

"I leave the monsters to the scientists at Blackstone, for the most part," Miss Americana told the ghostly girl as they walked down a short corridor that was completely absent of people. "I don't consider anyone a monster unless they're doing monstrous things, in which case I want them in a more secure location than I can provide here. But we do see many different varieties of metahumans, along with all sorts of other creatures. Our founder, Dr. Archeville, was extremely interested in the cataloging and testing of metahuman potential, as are the scientists at the Albright Institute. For myself, that's not my life's work, but it is a topic of considerable interest." She gestured towards a door marked "Prosthetics Lab 1" as they passed, and through the window Kimber could see a wide variety of artificial body parts being tested with high-tech machines in a scene that was at once fascinating and macabre. "This is my real specialty, the artificial prosthetics lab. We're trying to use technology to restore functionality to damaged body parts, the entire body part when one is gone, even in rare cases, the entire body when all has been lost save the mind. The more we learn about the way humans and metahumans can process energy of all sorts, the more efficiently we can make replacement parts that draw on that energy to function. I've been having great success lately with a double amputee metahuman from Uzbekistan whose powers allow for a sort of biofeedback..." She trailed off with a half-laugh. "But none of that can possibly interest you. The gym is jut this way." Three more doors down the hall, she led the way into a very long, tall room lined with mirrors all along one wall. The opposite wall was marked with black and white stripes in horizontal and vertical lines, studded with numbers like strange rulers. There was some exercise equipment in the room, but it looked little like a typical gym. "I'm going to step out now," Miss A told Ghost Girl, "and observe from the other room. You may use any of your powers you like, so long as their range doesn't extend beyond this room, and I'll record it. All right?"

That Grue Captain is causing all kinds of trouble even though he's bound and helpless. He has to go. Dimensional pocket on the Grue Captain! A 19 on the attack. Move action will be to move to Scraps and begin tending to him.

As the movie played, Koshiro grabbed drinks and snacks from the supplies and brought them over to the couch, putting a companionable arm around Mali's shoulders as he sat. "If you think about it right," he pointed out, "most nights in Freedom City pass by in a boring way, with nothing much happening. It's just that the nights when things do get crazy are more memorable. So if we want it to seem more balanced, we just have to do more memorable things on nights when we're not under attack." He tilted his bag of popcorn in Mali's direction, offering to share, while silently considering the size of her shoulders and triceps under his arm. He might need to start hitting up the gym a little more faithfully.

Erin blinked and opened her mouth, then closed it again, shooting a rather helpless look in Trevor's direction. Having friends really was harder work than it ought to be sometimes. "Ah, it's a little early for that sort of question to come up," she finally managed. "Neither of us are even twenty yet. Children are way, way, way off down the road, not something to even think about yet." Especially since the thought was enough to send a cold shiver down her spine, but she wasn't going to share that with the nosy Ultiman. Erin had spent a little time after their brush with Omega thinking about the alternate future they'd visited, and the hints she'd gotten there to how one iteration of her had gotten by. Given the year, given how old Lucky Strike, Clara, had been, Erin and Mark (and there was a thought that was even more alarming to pursue) would've produced her quite young, in their very early twenties. It apparently had not worked out well, given the hints Clara had dropped, and Erin could understand why! If she was ever going to be ready to be a parent, it wasn't going to be for a really, really long time and a lot more therapy. She was pretty sure that Trevor, whatever his other long-term thoughts about their relationship, felt the same way. Moving slightly more quickly than even her usual rapid grace, Erin drained her can of soda and dropped back onto the couch. "Hey, looks like the game is about to start back up."

"You'll stay here for now," Miss A told D-Gray with simple pragmatism as she summoned a secured transport chamber for Chimera from the security office in the basement. "You'll have to for the moment, until we're sure we've untangled the virus from your programming and that there are no rogue copies still in the wild. Right now you're on a secure stand-alone server, so you'll find your movements are restricted to a certain extent. You cannot leave the system you are currently on, and in the real world, you cannot communicate except through the speakers in this room and the screen you're on now. However, we're not unfamiliar with the needs and wants of sentient programs. As soon as we've got the first levels of decontamination finished, I'll drop an emulator onto your system that will give you a living space inside the system. Like the Matrix, if you've seen that one, but smaller and less malevolent. You'll have a home that will allow you to interface with the computer and fulfill your needs in ways that are familiar to you, sleeping in a bed, eating, watching television and using a computer or musical instruments." With the chamber on its way, Miss A drew over a few more privacy panels, effectively shutting Chimera away from the conversation entirely. "After that, there's no telling what you'll be able to do. Advanced artificial intelligences are useful in any number of fields, so I doubt you'll have trouble finding something that suits you. Maybe you'll go back to music. It's obvious you still have plenty of fans. Either way, it'll take time for you to become accustomed to a new way of life. Try not to rush yourself."

"We've done more dangerous things with less preparation," Koshiro pointed out with a crooked smile. He put an arm around Mali's shoulders and gave her a quick, friendly squeeze. "And now we've filled out the roster with ace fighting-types, we've got nothing to worry about. You said everything'll be ready tomorow, right Sharl?" he asked his roommate. "We may as well go back to the school, get loaded up on food and sleep, those of us that need it, and meet up here fresh in the morning. You're going to have clothes for us, right? We're not exactly going to blend in our Prime clothes, if what those guys we met this fall are any measure."

"Of course, another time then," Fleur said graciously. "I'll just pop you back to Prime, wherever you'd like to go, and let you get some rest." Reaching into the belt pouch at her waist, she withdrew a small lavender card and gave it to him. It was printed with her contact information, and smelled faintly of flowers, much like the woman herself. "Feel free to get in touch anytime," she told him. "I am very serious in what I said about heroes being there for each other. Call if you run into any trouble, and if I can't help, I'll find someone who can. And I'll hold you to that raincheck as well." She chuckled, then touched her fingers to a nearby bush, which began spiraling open a large yellow flower. "Where can I send you?"

"Wow..." Erin said again, resisting the temptation to leave the central path through the basements and have a good look around. She'd never seen an Atlantean seacraft in good light except in pictures at school, but it seemed worthy of a good inspection, to say nothing of the other souvenirs and artifacts that littered the rooms. Only the lure of the long-awaited spaceship beckoned her onward. "I guess if it weren't for the safety issues, you could open your own museum with what you've got here. What's the story with the big cards?" she asked. "They look like stage decorations for a casino or something. Are they magic?"