Electra
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Erin had run back across the ballroom the moment she'd finished being thrown around it, but by the time she got back to Mike and James, the situation had started to calm down. Relieved, she looked around for Trevor, hoping he hadn't gotten thrown down too hard or hit by something flying through the air. The appearance of a car squealing tires in the middle of the ballroom put an end to the search pretty quickly. Erin didn't bother to think; she'd had too many practice sessions with Archer to succumb to that folly. She grabbed James and tossed him out of the path of the car, then dove herself, tucking and rolling as the tires passed an inch away from the hem of her now very battered dress.
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Well, I don't know what the hell just happened, but Alder tells me that Erin can have moved across the room by the time Eddie appears with the car, so she will be interposing for James or whoever else she is adjacent to who might be in danger from the car.
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"You didn't hurt him," Erin said matter-of-factly, ignoring Zoe's chagrin. She understood the feeling entirely, but since she wouldn't have wanted to talk about it if it had been her, she extended the same courtesy to Zoe. "But he's got some burns, or something. It's like whatever was in that balloon tagged him on the way out. Can you help him, Alex?"
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Erin barely had time to react as Mike plucked her effortlessly off his shoulders and launched her at James. She tucked herself into a ball and missed hitting him, but at the cost of slamming into the stage wall next to him with enough force to crack the plaster. Spinning, she was just in time to see Mike bounding up towards James with murder in his eyes. Shrugging off the momentary disorientation of her flight and impact, she stepped into his path. "Mike, think about this, you don't-" She didn't even have time to finish before he was tossing her again, but at least this time she was ready for it. Meeting the far wall of the room with her outstretched hands, she bounced harmlessly to the floor and wobbled on her heels a moment before turning back to the fray.
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1d20+13=31 Just made it, even with the bruised level! Whew.
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Erin's going to interpose on the grapple, since she's conveniently and perhaps painfully found herself adjacent to James. Toughness save for being thrown: 1d20+14=25 Bruised and stunned. Mark will be spending an HP to clear the stun so she can interpose. Erin mechanically can't win the grapple check, she is grappled, again.
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Fleur chuckled. "It's not dye," she assured him, tilting her face up, eyes closed to the miniature sun. "Not always the handiest kind of power to have in an actual fight, but I can hold my own against crooks like our boy here." She chucked a thumb towards the giant daffodil. "And it's useful after super-battles, in the cleaning up phase, or during natural disasters, things like that. They also serve who don't spend all their time fighting crime, right?" She opened her eyes and looked over at him. "Where do you hail from, if you don't mind my asking?"
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Erin caught the hopeful look and shrugged mentally. She was confident enough in her own abilities by now to be pretty sure she wasn't going to hurt anyone on accident, especially when she was calm and centered. Maybe looks were very deceiving in this case, who knew? "All right," she finally said, "just a quick one, though, cause I've gotta be in class in half an hour and I need to shower, kay?" She gestured for Eve to lead the way to the practice mats.
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Erin had been staring open-mouthed at the screen, unable to look away from James and Zoe's naked writhing, so it was only her impeccably honed reflexes that kept her on her feet when Mike started freaking out. She leapt over a folding chair that blew past her and landed at a run that took her straight to Mike, then stopped herself as Zoe tried to... whatever she was trying to do. Erin felt a ripple of nausea pass over her as the air seemed to twist and warp for a second, but then it was gone, and she still had work to do. Jumping onto Mike's back, she attempted to hold him down before he could hurt anyone, for all he was much stronger than she was, and entirely beyond reason at the moment. "Mike, come on!" she demanded. "Stop and think about this! Somebody's going to get hurt!" But between his strength and the many distractions surrounding them, Erin just couldn't get a good grip on him.
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All-out power attack, just to make sure she hits, though that's not normally a problem. 1d20+14=28 And the grapple check: First one is bad! I spend an HP for less bad! Second one is better. 1d20+35=51.
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Just squeaked by on that one, 1d20+8=24. With Erin's Evasion 2, she's fine.
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Erin goes on 26
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Erin stood with Trevor and clapped politely as the names were read off. She'd voted for Alex and Mike, but Zoe and James were definitely flashier people, and that always attracted votes. Although she'd hoped to get a chance to talk with James that evening, he'd never seemed to be exactly where she was, so it would just have to wait, again. He seemed so preoccupied lately, and it seemed like more than the difficult job he'd been saddled with. She leaned in towards Trevor. "You know, I always kinda thought they elected couples for this thing. Guess I watch too many movies."
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Wander sheathed her bad and looked over at the archer. "We'll see she gets where she belongs," she said, a wry half-smile on her face. "Which probably includes some jail and a lot of rehab, from the look of her. Thanks for taking her down." While James dealt with the injured hero in the metal suit, Erin began to jump around and assess the structural damage, taking down a few flagpoles and loose pieces of brick before they could fall on anyone. Most of the damage seemed to be cosmetic, and no civilians seemed more than bruised and scared, so it looked like a good day.
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Erin raised an amused eyebrow at that claim, giving Eve another look. "He's tougher than he looks," she said mildly. "Both of them are. And fast with it. Have you had a placement test yet? Archer runs you through your paces and tells you what level you're at, and who you should be training with in what. Pain in the ass, but it's effective. Without that, it's hard to tell who's a good fight for you and who's liable to hurt you really badly." Though she was obviously not trying to boast, Erin's tone suggested that she would probably be one in the "hurt really badly" category.
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Erin couldn't help chuckling, looking at the small teenager. "No thanks," she said easily, "I've already done two hours today and have another session tonight at eleven, I'm pretty topped up. Have you tried sparring with Chris or Trevor?" It wasn't that Erin doubted that Eve had gotten some instruction in something like Krav Maga, it was amazing what you could get a trainer for if you had the money, but she didn't want to lay out and embarrass a new student who was probably way, way more into gymnastics than fighting.
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Erin shrugged. "It's not something I'm interested in. It's just a means to an end for me. I practice on the bars and the pommel horse because it's easier than finding a set of flagpoles or a low wall to work with, but it's all geared towards surviving in a fight. If the bad guy can't guess where I'm coming from, because I've flipped over and changed directions while he wasn't looking, then I've got the upper hand. I don't think I could take it seriously for its own sake, for like, artiness, set to music and all that. 'Sides, like you said, metahumans can't participate anyway. You getting fighting training now that you're here, or are you a hands-off type?"
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Erin sat crosslegged on the mat and watched the performance, grinning a little when Eve bothered with things like grips and the springboard. It looked just like the Olympics when you did it that way! Still, the new girl was good, very good, with the grace and perfect economy of motion that spoke of years of practice and peak physical condition. She even noted a few refinements of motion to try out herself, figuring that somebody with that much experience probably knew exactly how to hold her hands and arms. Erin waited quietly till Eve finished and dismounted, then nodded. "You're really good. I see why you almost went to the Olympics."
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"Could he have mimicked the baby's mystical energies somehow?" Stesha suggested, looking from Taylor to the baby to the figure in the scrying. "That could explain why he would come here when it was so dangerous, to check his work, and to see if the ghosts would make him as being an intruder. He confused them enough that they didn't set off the alarm right away, but then he got caught because Dark Star happened to be on the premises. Do you think he's trying to get someone's attention? Yours, maybe, or even Dracula's?"
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Erin said all the hellos that needed to be said, listened to Alex's speech, and then put her hand on Trevor's arm to lead him off towards the corner. "Let's get our picture taken," she suggested, nodding her head towards the photographer's booth. "That way if we decide to do any showing off later, I won't have to worry about my hair so much." Even with both of them busy, they'd managed to squeeze in a training session together that week, which had included some fighting, and also some dancing. It had been fun, but Erin found that, like fighting, it was hard to really get into the spirit of it without getting a little mussed.
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It was a little funny to realize that Eve was wearing a smaller version of the same uniform Erin wore, which was apparently a standard practice uniform. Most of the members of Next Gen and Young Freedom had custom costumes that fit with their powers or code names, but at least in everything Eve had seen, Wander wore the same blue and gold outfit and blue headband. And, even now while she was just working out, her uniform included a small silver stick holstered at her side. "Yeah, I understand that," Erin told her with a nod, still speaking aloud for her half the conversation. She hopped down from the uneven bars, waving an arm as if to offer them to Eve. It wasn't a dare, but it was close. Maybe a challenge.
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From the rooftops on the edge of the beach, Erin watched as the rapid-action drama unfolded. "Ah, dammit... Phalanx, go get her, bring them back!" Leaping down to the beach, she ran over to where Edge was floating, even as the echo of Zephyr dissipated. She wasn't sure if it was safe to touch Edge the way he was, but Zephyr hadn't seemed to do any damage, and he looked likely to fall if someone didn't stop him. She stood next to him, ready to catch him the moment the weird light looked ready to release him. "Edge, Mark, can you hear me?" she asked uncertainly.
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Stesha studied the face in the mirror doubtfully, looking from it to the angelic baby sleeping in Taylor's arms. "I guess there's a resemblance," she said doubtfully, "he does look sort of like a criminal, distorted, evil version of what the baby could grow up to look like." She shuddered. "That's just twisted. Who would do something like that, and why would he want to break into your house and steal your clothes? Even if he wanted to impersonate you for some reason, it's not like the parts of your old costume are hard to get hold of."
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"Probably a totally different style," Erin told her. "I never did gymnastics or anything like that. I mostly practice survival acrobatics. Stuff you can use in a fight, or to escape a trap, stuff like that. It's really something I've picked up just since I started here, before that I was more about going toe to toe and fighting with things. The acrobatics is sort of a refinement on that." She looked from Eve to the equipment. "You gonna practice?" she asked curiously. She was interested to see what a world-class gymnast could do.
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The odd sensation of feeling someone else's chagrin made Erin blink, though she was used enough to Alex's occasional mental calls that hearing the psychic in her head was nothing new. 'Sokay," she told the diminutive gymnast, "they wouldn't put bleachers in here if they didn't expect us to be observed sometimes. Better you than Mr. Archer." She grinned at the comment about their respective frames. She had fifty pounds on Eve if she had an ounce, and probably eight inches in height as well. Eve was tiny, like most of the girls you saw tumbling around on TV. Erin could understand that, half the problems she'd had in learning acrobatic maneuvers was getting her legs the hell out of the way. "Yeah, a little larger," she agreed drolly. "I heard around that you're a serious gymnast. What do you do?"