Gizmo
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"Do you recall the giant sand scorpions my elder self could summon?" Set mused with a wistful sigh, shoulders slumping slight in dejection. "Those were good." "Thy mortal enforcers of law shall not be necessary, Richard Cline," Sekhmet assured Fast-Forward in a voice that held notes of a pleased purr and a dangerous growl. "She Who Mauls does not abandon quarry so quickly!" Propelled by four powerfully muscled feline legs, she shot through doors out to the patio and launched herself with a mighty leap to the nearby fire escape where the imposter Baron was attempting to make good his escape. "Oh bother. She's liable to take impersonating a divine personage rather badly, too. I'd best go after her," Set supposed as the warrior goddess sped past. Taking Clock Queen's hand in his own, the godling bowed and kissed her knuckles in a courtly show. "Still, you must at least let me treat you to dinner while you're in town, Anna, I insist!" With that he jogged to the shadowy corner their attacker had used as a doorway and disappeared himself into the darkness, reappearing outside at street level in the similarly obscured space between the building and its neighbour.
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Kimber looked sideways at the imposing Furion as she floated about Eve's garden. "If people are scared of you a lot, Mr. Scarred, maybe you could make your outfit seem friendlier, like with some fun buttons? For bands you like and stuff! Everybody likes to talk about music!" Catching onto the grim tone of Scavros' visit a bit belatedly, the phantom ducked her head between her shoulders and bobbed a little closer to the ground with a mumbled, "...sorry." She regained her vim once the nature of the emergency had been explained. "Oh, you gotta let me come along, Eve! Last time you guys got to hang out with the Furions I wasn't around and I'm totally an expert on death! Death is my jam! I can your expert consultant on all things deathy!"
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"Hey! Hey! Stop that!" Kimber insisted sternly, swooping about in front of the massive boar, unaffected by its outbursts but rapidly losing patience with the beast's antics. "Hang on back there, Avro," she called, cupping her hands to her mouth. "I'm starting to think we might have to do this the hard way after all!" Coming back around to the supernatural monster's face, she plunged her immaterial arm right into its snout up to the elbow, rummaging about in an unsettling manner as she sapped its strength.
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"Call me Hematite. I'm here to save your life," the costumed intruder in the middle of the Midnight Manor explained, still holding his hands at chest level with the palms facing Trevor. "From the future." After a brief pause, he awkwardly added, "I mean, I came from the-- Look, somebody from even further in the future is coming to take you out, I'm going to stop it so, y'know, you're welcome. Sorry for not being amazingly perfectly stealthy about it, frell." "...future." Trevor didn't sound particularly convinced and his posture remained wary as he moved a little closer to Hematite. The other man's uniform certainly gave the impression of advanced technology as did his ability to make it all the way into the Manor before being detected but it wasn't anything the hastily dressed vigilante would have put past any number of cutting edge inventors he might name, Erin's employer among them. Travis revealed himself from around the corner and took a few steps over to the control panels Hematite had been struggling with, leaning his cane against the counter. "Hmh. Entered correct counter-phrase." The elder Hunter turned to give their intruder a closer look, still wearing the red lensed goggles. "Dr. Tomorrow's technology knows real chronitons when it sees them. Hematite, hm? Interesting..." "Uh, yes sir," Hematite confirmed, straightening a little when he saw Travis and toning down some of the irritation that had crept into his voice before. "I-- alright twip, keep your nodes on already. Here." The masked man turned one palm upright and a small holographic figure appeared there, a lithely athletic woman cast in deep indigo light, wearing a suit with an unusual but smart looking cut and something akin to a chauffeur's cap. "Hello. I am Blackbird, a Furion autonomic machine intelligence," she introduced herself in a prim, professional tone, bowing slightly. Perhaps seven or eight inches tall, her hologram remained in the air once her partner lowered his arm. "Please excuse Hematite's manners, our arrival is the culmination of extremely trying circumstances." "...what," Redbird interjected flatly from the still weaponized motorcycle.
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"Ah, what can I say, ladies?" Set replied with unconvincing humility, examining his immaculately maintainted fingernails with a smirk. "Benefits of being a son of Nut and the sultan of storms, you know. 'Ehn bee dee'." After a brief pause he looked up with a widening grin. "...did you spy my lightning circling about and striking the blaggard from behind? Classic Set." "Compensating for lack of skill with underhanded treachery? Hm. Aye, I believe thy be correct, liesmith. Classic." Rolling her eyes, Sekhmet stalked back over to Errant and the unconscious villains strewn about the street. Noting the strange length of metal and other materials she didn't recognize in the psionic's hand, she sniffed the air experimentally. "Rrrh. The prize the brigand's sought smells of blood and bone and not that of the oddly masked one." Following a little ways behind, Set tiled his head slightly as he got a closer look himself. "Steel and circuits that can pass for flesh? My, that does suggest some intriguing possibilities! None I'd like to see this lot acting upon, mind."
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Set Knoledge (Technology) Check.: 1d20+4 21
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"O-oh, well," Becky began with a start before trailing off and squeezing her eyes shut with a small, rueful smile. She looked tired from the momentary lapse in control but already there was a little more colour in her cheeks and a little less tension in her shoulders. "You know, I had this whole plan in my head about showing you how I'd gotten stronger and smarter and how I didn't just lose my head over every pretty girl who paid me a little attention, right?" With a sigh, she shifted her posture enough in Eve's embrace to place one hand on the petite telepath's hip. "So, with the established..." Tilting her chin up, she gave Eve a kiss she'd been waiting to deliver for more than two years.
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Trevor gave a curt nod to Erin before racing off to the hidden entrance to the Midnight Manor that resided behind the stately grandfather clock in the corner of the first floor main room. As much as he didn't love the idea of leaving Erin to fend for herself in the meantime he also had little doubt she could more than handle their uninvited guests above ground while he handled those below. He left the lights off as he descended the hidden stairs, allowing his ruby-on-onyx metahuman eyes to compensate for the darkness. Glancing over his shoulder he noted that Travis, not far behind him, had produced a pair of red tinted goggles from wherever he'd procured the throwing disc, hopefully placing the Hunter men on an advantage over their temporal intruders. Wooden lengths at the ready, he silently looked around the corner into the cavernous headquarters. "Argh, where's the twipping off-switch for the alarm?!" A figure stood in front of the main computer, casting about its various keyboards and interfaces, body language perturbed behind a sleek black suit of body armor panels punctuated by luminous lines of blue. His face was completely concealed by a featureless mask that instantly reminded Trevor of the uniform he'd inherited from his grandfather, save for the eyes being the same blue rather than red. Obviously muscled beneath his high tech costume, the intruder was nearly as broad at the shoulder as the cyborg who had appeared on the lawn, albeit considerably more animated. "Hey, the calculations were your job," he growled angrily to an unseen partner, holding his hands to his ears as the wailing alarm continued to sound. "Is this really the time for the 'impatient speech', Blackbird? Nnh... Okay, okay, I can remember this." Lowering his arms and taking a deep breath, the armored man tapped away at the keyboard in front of him and to Trevor's surprise the alarm deactivated, silence returning to the Manor. "Ha! ...yeah, good call." Pulling down a lever with an audible thunk, Trevor brought the Manor's floodlights on and stepped into view, a spare utility belt already slipped from a workbench and fastened around his waist. "Explanations. Now." Even with his buttons mismatched and armed with broken furniture, the dark haired detective radiated palpable authority. The effect was enhanced as a motorcycle on the opposite side of the strange man abruptly roared to life, rolling forward without a rider atop it. "This one appeared in a flash of light and power," the vehicle spoke in a boisterous, female voice, "but I do not detect the stench of entropy upon him." Panels slid about the body of the motorcycle with impossible speed and precision, unfolding into dangerous looking cannons that hummed with energy. "Perhaps better safe than sorry, however, hm?" "...at least they didn't use our middle names," the surrounded man muttered, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture.
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Ghost Girl Move Action: Demoralize Vetrgoltr: 1d20+7 10 Standard Action: Chill of the Grave vs. Vetrgoltr: 1d20+12 28 That's: Drain Strength 12 (Extra: Affects Corporeal, Power Feats: Accurate 2) [26PP] (chill of the grave)
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Sekhmet Notice check.: 1d20+10 30 Well, we know where all the good rolls are going, anyway!
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"Craven!" Sekhmet growled in outrage, shoulders up and fists clenched tightly as she looked about for any sign of the elusive impersonator. Seeing nothing, the goddess made a rolling, predatory sound in the back her throat and dropped to all fours in her tawny lioness form, claws out and clacking against the penthouse floor as she took care sniffs of the air where her quarry had last been standing, trying to pick up some sort of trail. For his part, Set took the pause in pitched combat to sprint over to Clock Queen and drop to his own knees with a surprising lack of dignity, scraping away at his own hardened sand construct with his bare hands. "Argh, tis mortifying. 'Eph Em Elle,'" he groaned, casting about for some tool to speed his work along. Quietly enough that it was clear he was talking to himself, the godling grumbled, "Can I truly not be trusted even with such paltry power, brother?" Seizing upon one of the glasses they'd taken out earlier, he began using it as a crude shovel, regaining some measure of composure and looking up at the immobilized speedster. "I will make recompensense, Anna, on my word, for what that be worth."
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Kimber had barely been able to stop gushing over the castle Eve had had painstakingly constructed atop the Freedom City skyline from the moment she and Indira had arrived. Not needing to pause for breath it was only when her sense of restraint and decorum outweighed her bubbly enthusiasm that she paused her effusive praise and exclamations of excitement, which was to say infrequently. Eve's uncanny grace and cool poise had always reminded the Canadian phantom a little bit of a fairy tale princess and that she had taken to living in such a fantastical structure was almost too perfect for words -- not that that stopped Kimber from making a valiant attempt. When the subtle alarm led the hostess out to a garden and the strange figure waiting there, however, she was quickly silent. She hadn't bothered to affect her illusion of corporeality around her friends and the outlandish garb of the unexpected guest suggested this was more of a Young Freedom alumni sort of matter anyway. Floating just behind the white haired telepath, the translucent blue young woman bit her lip for a moment before ending her brief quiet. "Um. Hello?" She raised a hand a waved uncertainly.
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Trevor followed into the hallway even as the words were leaving their new intruder's mouth, two lengths of hardwood that had previously served as loveseat legs held in a ready escrima stance. If he had any of the same flickers of recognition that had given Erin pause, his unreadable stoic expression gave no indication, one bare foot sliding slowly behind the other as he moved in a cautious arc that flanked the dark haired woman. "What--" Before he could finish the question a keening air raid style alarm blared to life, filling the entire building. "The Manor," Trevor grated with a flash of anger. Taking advantage of the unidentified woman's hesitation, he dropped into a tight somersault that took him narrowly past her and over to Erin before coming up to his feet and sprinting for the stairs. His grandfather was already in the door to the library, meeting his eyes eyes as he round the top of the staircase. "That alarm was designed by Tom Morgen," Travis noted in a grim tone, supporting himself heavily with his cane but already armed with a bladed throwing disk in his opposite hand, his grip as steady as ever despite the gauntness of his aged fingers.
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Trevor made a short, choked sound of consernation and quickly threw his shirt back on, only bothering with pair of buttons he could do up on his way over to one side of the window, placing his back to the outer wall and surreptitiously looking out onto the grounds. Spotting the imposing intruder for himself, he quickly took stock of their assets. He had a relatively basic multitool in his pocket but no weapons immediately on hand. "Can activate manor defenses from downstairs," he told Erin in a quick, low tone, trying to determine whether their uninvited guest had spotted them through the open window. With the lights off and the fire low there was a chance to salvage the element of surprise.
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"Earned a viking funeral," Trevor decided, accepting the pants and feeling a faint urge to salute the splintered remains of the couch beneath him. Doing his best to stay on top of a surviving cushion until he could account for all of the pieces, he pulled on his jeans and stretched out a few pleasantly taxed muscles. "Mmh. Could eat." Pausing to lean over and kiss the side of Erin's chin, he turned toward the wall and began sorting out where his shirt had gotten to. Out the window on the pristine snow of the manor's grounds a distinct flash of green light caught Erin's attention with a muffled sound like distant thunder. Another crackle of emerald light flashed then more quickly a third until the energy coalesced into a swirling sphere that disappeared almost as suddenly as it had sprung into view. In its wake it left a musclebound hulk of a man in sleeveless body armor, with a shock of hair as white as the snow under his boots and a prominent scar that started on one cheek and ran down his neck. One of his arms reflected the light of the setting sun, unmistakably cybernetic and holding in its fist a halberd that Erin recognized as of similar design if not identical to the pike Steve Murdock wielded, along with countless Omegadrones. The cyborg looked about, getting his bearings and considering the mansion in front of him.
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"But it's seen so much history," Trevor mock protested, letting the tip on his nose tap into Erin's as he straightened his legs out until his knees bent over the opposite end of the loveseat. Looking up at her with auburn hair falling down across his cheeks the engineer briefly forgot the coy joke on the tip of his tongue and settled for reaching up to gently tuck a few locks behind her ear and kiss her once again. Collecting a few of his scattered wits, he gave her the broad, toothy smile that was only for her. "Practically an heirloom. Deserves a proper send off." In a feat of considerable dexterity and with a little help he managed to slide his belt free from around his waist and tossed it over his shoulder so that the buckle collided with the lightswitch on the far wall. Ultimately it took a few more tries with other articles of discarded clothing to achieve the desired result, the overhead light fixture winking out and leaving them to the crackle and glow of the fire.
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Trevor took the appearance of Erin's tongue as an invitation to lean in for another kiss, a little slower and more heated than before, smouldering as he replaced the taste of cocoa on her lips. "Mm, sounds serious," he agreed once they parted, moving back just far enough to shrug the open shirt from his shoulders and free his arms from the sleeves. Bunching up the bottom of Erin's t-shirt in long, nimble fingers, he rocked his hands back and forth, teasing the fabric up an inch on one side then the other. "May need you to set a good example. Easily led astray," he added with a soft chuckle by her ear, breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck as he kissed the lobe.
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"Aw, I don't think you need to worry," Kimber assured the newcomer lightly even as she kept a very close eye on Ion herself. "Sometimes monsters are nice and they just need to hide for reasons, y'know?" The poltergeist liked to think she was pretty good at getting a first impression of people and had more than a little experience with the preternatural. Ion was definitely putting on an act or at least whatever was controlling her was; the stiff way she was moving shouted 'possession' to Kimber. "Some monsters take advantage of people, though, and use them like tools and that's just the worst. Makes me mad enough to break them into a million little screaming pieces and make sure they can't ever hurt anyone ever again," she continued in just as sunny a tone. "Probably it's the first kind though, don't you think?"
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Returning the kiss with a wider smile, Trevor moved around to trail his lips down Erin's neck. "Hhn, finished everything yesterday," he revealed as his hands traveled across hips until one slipped into the back pocket of her jeans and the other found its way to the hem of her t-shirt. It had meant a report that was a little tersely worded even for him but a late night at the campus library while Erin worked a night shift at HAX and a few favours called in on group projects had successfully cleared his schedule. "Foiled again. Afraid you have my undivided attention. May have to take your revenge."
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"Speak for yourself," Wail coughed with some difficulty but the bravado was undercut by the bloody mess of his left shoulder and the plodding difficulty with which he was moving. Superdense muscle tissue or not, the big man wasn't unbreakable and the weapons of the invading horde seemed uniquely suited to prove it. His shirt had been reduced to tatters and the exposed mishmash of bruises and gashes were testament to just how many hits he'd taken for the less durable defenders of the city. With a now familiar ZAM! Jump appeared next to Hologram in a crouch. Her bun had come loose some hours earlier and her shoulder length red hair was caked with black soot and the oil that passed for blood in their enemies. "She is not wrong," the teleporter admitted, leaning against the car for support. "Holding out until help could come was one thing but we cannot win a war of attrition on our own." "Normally I'd say we've been in worse spots but that seems a little disingenuous, huh?" Jive put in as he jogged out of the bank where he'd been taking stock of the sheltered civilians and using his abilities as a translator to help organize those of them with medical and other emergency skills. His attempted levity was even more forced than LaMarr's boast, his hands hastily bandaged all the way up the elbow and his walk noticeably favoring his right leg. Tossing a small first aid kit salvaged from someone's glove box to Fast-Forward, he sat down on the curb. "They're scared out of their minds," he said more quietly. "Obviously. They'd have to be idiots not to be. Which doesn't say much about us, does it, hah." Wail made it the rest of the way over the group and stood behind Jav, worried that if he sat down he wouldn't be able to stand back up. "Special kind of stupid." Looking over at the would-be bank robbers he nodded his head. "Wouldn't have lasted this long without you two. You did good, coming back and all. So..." "He's working up to a 'thank you' somewhere in there," the polyglot supplied, leaning back lightly to rest his head against Keith's shin.
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Making a low rumble in the back of his throat, Trevor shifted the way he was sitting until he could crane his neck to kiss Erin on the cheek. "Love it when you talk engine parts," he noted with a subtle smile, setting what was left of his coffee aside again to wrap both arms around her waist. Stocked as it was with the many, many vehicles his grandfather had considered for use in his crusade as the original Midnight while keeping up the image of an idly rich automotive enthusiast, the garage was a practically endless supply of project cars. While he'd generally stuck to tuning and modifying a mere handful one his own, restoring a car to its original state had turned out to be a lot of fun when one had someone to share the drive with afterward.
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"Oh, well done," Sekhmet congratulated the godling with eye-rolling sarcasm before turning her attention on their surprisingly evasive skull faced opponent. Shifting one foot beneath her, she watched intently for a moment before suddenly launching herself forward without warning. Crossing the length of the penthouse in a blur of blood orange shendyt and toned muscle, she threw all of her weight behind a punch that connected directly with the false god's facepaint, sending him reeling backward and knocking his tophat to the now sand covered floor. Snorting with derision, she kept her eyes on the villain, raising her fists in a loose fighting stance and placing herself between her quarry and the immobile elder Cline. "Devourer of Hearts, was that truly so difficult?"
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Sekhmet Standard Action: Charge Not!Samedi.: 1d20+9 27 With Improved Critical 2, that's a crit, so DC 27! Sekhmet will also Interpose for the Snared Clock Queen as necessary.
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"Samedi has a Haitian accent, you ignoramus," Set corrected with a note of professional offense and running a thumb along the underside of one of her top's straps. When the family of speedsters proved to have difficulty catching the loa imposter, she snapped her fingers. "Alright, no more Miss Nice Goddess." Returning to her male form, he made a series of quick, arcane gestures that brought forth an impossible tide of pristine, glittering sand from the corners of the penthouse ceiling, the edges of the door frame and from beneath the fridge to which Clock Queen had helped herself earlier. The spontaneous desert surged forward with with the zigzagging speed of a predator and collided upon the apartment's owner. Or at least where he had been a moment before, his reflexes keeping him out of the animated dune as easily as he'd avoided the previous attacks. Clock Queen herself was not quite so lucky as the indiscriminate sands quickly rooted the retired super criminal to the spot. "Eh?! Oh for--" cutting back a string of obscenities, Set smacked his forehead. "Apologies, Anna! Truly!"
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February 14, 2014 Trevor Hunter lifted his girlfriend's feet with one hand to make room for himself on the loveseat before replacing them over his lap and handing her the steaming mug of hot chocolate he'd brought over from the adjacent kitchenette. In a fit of theater that went above his usually limited talent for food preparation he'd drizzled a swirl of melted dark chocolate around the whipped cream topping, taking advantage of the prodigious amount of confection they'd gathered in preparation for the four day long weekend they'd carved out for themselves. The room they'd settled into for the late afternoon was one of the less used in his family's manor, the short couch and the rest of the furniture looking like it had last been replaced sometime in the 1970s but it was the only room on the second floor with a fireplace, crackling away pleasantly now, and it had an extra touch of privacy compared to the larger rooms of the ground level. A cart that looked suspiciously like it might have been repurposed from carrying trays of beakers had been laden with a bountiful selection of fresh fruits and picnic foods while the side table that supported his own mug of black coffee also featured what had certainly been chemistry equipment before beginning a new career as a chocolate fondue pot. With a silent, happy sigh, Trevor settled in and lifted his cup to take a slow sip. It was nice to just have some quiet time with Erin for once, without some impending crisis hanging over their heads.
