Gizmo

"Thank you, no," Travis declined, accepting the carton and giving Charlie a faint ghost of a smile despite his inability to bend over and give the feline the attention he was seeking. In lieu of that, he deftly tipped a few grains of fried rice onto the floor which quickly disappeared as the cat devoured them. "Want to finish this test while everything is set up. The quiet of the Manor is excellent for concentration. Thoroughly soundproof." On that off-hand comment, the elderly chemist politely took his leave and returned to the equipment in the headquarters under the mansion, Charlie following after the remaining rice. Trevor coughed lightly and adjusted the collar of his shirt as the hidden passageway clicked closed again behind his grandfather. "Subtle, isn't he?"

Bending accommodating into Erin's insistent embrace, a low, soft rumble came from the back of Trevor's throat as the kiss was returned. He could feel the auburn haired young woman force the tension in her shoulders away and was content to simply be a silent, reassuring presence until Charlie's interruption drew a quiet chuckle. As her knelt enough to scratch the cat behind his ears, light footfalls and the louder tap of a cane approaching announced his grandfather's arrival from the caverns below. "Mere two hours to prove Hale incompetent. Peer reviewed journal my--" Entering the dining room, Travis took in the younger couple's body language with a glance and stopped in the doorway, tapping his cane one against the hardwood floor. "Agreed, did she?" Reflexively looking first to Erin for confirmation, Trevor gave the elder Hunter a succinct nod. Travis grunted in approval, returning the nod. "Good. Long past time this was more home than mausoleum. Glad to have you, Erin." Nodding absently to himself a few time, the retired hero stroked his carefully trimmed goatee with one hand and tapped his care again with the other. "Well. Just came to retrieve some dinner to take back downstairs. Some people still know what the scientific method means, hmph."

"Jimminy Cricket," LaMarr exclaimed with the tone of an oath as the door opened and the grisly scene was revealed. He made no attempt to conceal the anger in his expression as he knelt down just outside of the pooling blood to get a better look at the dead men. The waste of life combined with the almost absurd inclusion of the undead specter had the veteran hero setting his jaw as he let out a long breath through his nose. There were enough pointless deaths in Lincoln without the help of ghosts and he wasn't going to tolerate it. Standing to his full imposing height slowly, he turned to observe the mark on the wall. "That's the tag of the DGC, the Darius Green Collective. Fancy name for a bunch of jokers think they own damn near a dozen blocks of the neighbourhood." He gave Nick an openly appraising look. "I've thrown down with ghouls and goblins plenty of times but I'm no expert. That face paint just for show or you have some idea what this could be about?"

Trevor looked back into Erin's brown eyes, glossy black orbs marked by luminous ruby irises unblinking for several long moments. Ultimately, the dark haired young man decided that struggling for words was overrated when actions could better convey his meaning. Takeout cartons forgotten, he rose from his seat, pulling Erin up along with him with their linked hands while drawing her closer with the other. The kiss he tilted his chin to give her was slow but deepened steadily, taking its time to fully make his feelings about her decision crystal clear.

"Easily done," Trevor agreed readily, shifting the fingers of the hand Erin held to thread the them through her own fingers. Money might not have been much an issue to the wealthy heir but he was hardly about to begrudge Erin the right to spend what she earned how she liked, particularly since it was still likely to be considerably less than the rent she paid currently. The cleaning crew would take a little preparation but was probably a good idea regardless. Letting his faint smile turn more serious, he clarified, "Don't mean to pressure. Know making your own place is important to you." Selfish reasons aside, he only wanted this to happen if it was something Erin wanted as well. "Just want you to know you've made a place for yourself here, too."

Notice Check. (1d20+11=15)

Trevor gave Erin a wounded, almost mournful look of betrayal as she sentenced him to further fumbling for words. Still, this was worth a little struggle. "Convenience goes without saying," he began matter-of-factly, an attitude belied by the tender touch of his fingers on her cheek. "Ready access to facilities, reduced commuting, emergency response time. Financially sound. Closets larger than your current kitchen." The young detective's thin lips parted slightly as he paused to frame his thoughts. "I am better around you. Happier. Ideas are better, smarter, quicker." He allowed one corner of his mouth turn subtly upward. "Potential benefit to humanity incalculable."

"I'm... alright," Ellie answered Mara's question with some hesitancy, weighing the sentiment in her mind to decide how true that was. "The sleeping outside and everything wasn't really the worst part of... y'know. That whole thing." It was still difficult to talk about her abduction and imprisonment. Whenever she tried the words felt clumsy and wrong in her mouth, insufficient to the task. "It was more all the not knowing. Where we were, why we were taken, if you were okay." Pulling her shoulders inward reflexively not coincidentally brought her closer against the engineer's side. "That said, thanks for agreeing to come along. Don't think I would have been up for this without you here."

Yolanda considered Min's explanation thoughtfully for a few silent moments before deciding that they bore out and nodding gravely. "That's why Erik is always saying how hot you are," the girl deduced, processing the new information she'd been given and considering how it fit with what she already knew. "Yes. Yes, it is," her adopted brother agreed with a light cough, perfectly happy to allow that minor misunderstanding save him a more difficult explanation. The young dimensional refugee tended to be a little quicker on the uptake than Erik expected and he's already been take off-guard by her pointed questions in the past. "One of the other girls in my class can set herself on fire only it doesn't hurt her," Yolanda noted, bending down to pick up an interestingly shaped rock and turn it over in her hands. "She's gotta super careful, though, and she has to wear special gloves just in case. If people can have powers, what about other things?" she asked, abruptly taking another direction in her inquiries. "Like bears?"

"Not... exactly," Trevor answered, mentally backpedaling and trying to figure out how best to make himself clear. He was surprisingly adept at communicating with only a handful of words, conveying instructions and information in the most succinct terms possible. Expressing emotion verbally, on the other hand, was virtually alien territory for him and difficult terrain at that. "Not 'living in the same building' so much as 'living together'," he attempted, his free hand absently finding its way into his hair again. He wasn't actually sure if that had made any sense aloud. "Understand need for space. Doesn't need to be immediate or even soon. But... Have a list of convincing benefits, if you like."

"Don't think they have clothing," Trevor deadpanned, turning his hand over on Erin's cheek and lightly tracing the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. Even with that bit of levity thinking about her being abducted in her sleep forced him to close his eyes briefly and let out a slow, steadying breath, quiet enough that Erin might have missed it if they hadn't been so close together. "Thinking was... Option, if you're interested..." he began again, his voice level but with the cadence of someone trying to phrase something in the best possible manner and finally opting for directness. "Like you to move in. Here. Into the manor."

Check. (1d20+15=17) Oh, for... Let me know if that's worth rerolling.

"Privacy outweighs convenience of a service, but, ah..." Trevor forced himself to continue with his original aim despite the convenient excuse of a potential digression. "Had another solution in mind. If you're interested." He let the momentum carry him along before that had a chance to sink in, one hand brushing over his forehead into his dark hair. "You know I loose track of time. Working on a project, a stakeout, don't realize it's morning... When the Curator's robot was evading detection, when I thought you were avoiding me... can recount every hour. When we realized you'd been taken, before I knew how to get you back... every second." It was a considerably more complex sentiment than he was accustomed to vocalizing and his expression subtly showed the difficulty he was having. "Would prefer to avoid that, going forward."

Giving the skull-faced hero in black an appraising look, Wail greeted, "Sorry, son, I don't keep track much these days; should I know who you are?" It wasn't a challenge but a legitimate question. LaMarr had had time to reacquaint himself with the modern heroes of Freedom City but he just wasn't tied into the community the way he'd once been. Fortunately the younger man's garb made it clear enough he belonged to the occult side of things which was certainly in keeping with the bizarre specter he'd just demolished. "Ghost mobster, huh? Not enough of the solid sorts around?"

The subtle but effusive glow that had come over Min was not lost on or unappreciated by Erik judging from the grin he sent her way. It was the sort of expression that would likely prove unbearably embarrassing to their daughter when she was old enough to appreciate it. "The backyard tree thing worked out pretty well, considering," he opined innocently, ducking until a branch. "I just can't get over your bare feet not falling off in this weather, hermana," Ellie added, wincing involuntarily at the thought of the prickly twigs and chilled air. She knew perfectly well that exposure meant next to nothing to the immortal dryad but it was still disconcerting to see. Forcing herself to stop staring, she gave Mara's hand a light squeeze and asked in a lowered voice, "How you holding up in the tech-free zone?" With a faint, serious frown Yolanda caught up to Min after making a thorough accounting of some moldy bark. "What did you eat, then?" she asked soberly, looking up at the guardian with intent, wide eyes. "Not bears. ...right?"

With chopsticks raised partway out of a paper carton, Trevor paused. "That... is a very good idea," he judged, blinking ruby and onyx eyes once as he considered. "Brilliant. Ha." Erin's suggestion addressed the actual problem head on and much more neatly than any of the complex engineering solutions he'd been considering. Letting his utensils rest in the food container he stood up enough to lean over and kiss Erin briefly on the forehead in a gesture equally affectionate and appreciative. "Downstairs," he answered her question as he sat down again. Given that they were already at ground level, his meaning was clear; his grandfather, the original Midnight, had sequestered himself in the headquarters below the mansion for the time being. "Chemist journal came today. Intent on proving one of the papers 'idiot child rantings'." Retired though he may have been, Travis was still a sharply keen mind with little tolerance for anything short of perfection. After a moment of hesitation, he continued, "If Redbird starts going out, Gramps rarely feeling social, mansion feels empty." He gestured around them vaguely with one hand and Erin recognized the tone he unconsciously took when he was reciting a practiced argument. "Lots of space."

Working to keep up with the taller campers while carrying the backpack of her extra clothing she'd insisted on being responsible for herself, Yolanda covered her mouth with both hands before more than a giggle could escape at Mara's grim prediction and amusing choice of words. More than a year after evacuating to Earth-Prime the now seven year old had regained much of the natural energy that went hand in hand with her stout, active frame but was still quieter than most of her peers at the Nicholson School. Letting her actions speak for her seemed to suit her just fine, however, as she jogged about the forest foliage, intent on picking up and examining every loose stick and rock. "Don't think of it as 'lost'," Ellie advised her girlfriend with a ghost of a smile ruining her deadpan. "Think of it as 'exploring'." A month earlier the prospect of leaving civilization behind wouldn't have been well received by pre-med student, not after spending weeks stranded on the Curator's deserted faux-planet. With more time to recover, though, she was glad for an excuse to spend uninterrupted time with her family. Armed with the knowledge that they could return to the city at any time, she found the walking through the tranquil forest holding Mara's hand soothing for nerves that were still a bit ragged from her ordeal.

The mid-March weather was warming up just enough to make being outside bracingly brisk rather than an invitation to numbness and a lingering ailment. Wildlife had begun to return and become active again, the still largely bare trees home to more chirping birds than layers of snow. As he adjusted the sizeable pack slung over both shoulders and trekked further into the Wharton State Forest, Erik Espadas had a moment of unusual introspection and reflected that the gradual thaw wasn't dissimilar to the slow return to normalcy after his sister's kidnapping by the cosmic villain known as the Curator and eventual rescue. Then again, the wide eyed infant strapped into a harness across the dusty brown haired fencer's chest was a potent reminder that the normal of the day was a far cry from what normal had looked like a year before. He hadn't been camping since well before he'd taken up the heroic identity of Jack of all Blades but given the connection the mother of his child shared with the natural world, it was something they'd intended to do for a while. In the fallout of what the media had insisted on titling the Day of Wrath, however, he'd been reluctant to let Ellie too far out of his sight and had ultimately dragged not only her but her girlfriend and their adopted younger sister along as well. "C'mon, ladies," he called over his shoulder. "Almost there! ...I think."

"Huh? Oh, because we don't-- right, I get it," Kimber agreed distractedly at Dead Head's glib remark, offering the putrefied hero an attempt at a smile that didn't quite hit the mark. She shook herself more forcefully out of her clouded melancholy when Equinox gave her instructions, however, tapered jaw setting in a determined game face. Worried as was about her friend, the last thing she was going to let happen was another teammate getting hurt because she wasn't paying attention. "I'll go first!" she insisted abruptly, floating to the front of the group hurriedly and placing herself a few paces ahead of the corporeal adults. "Nothing to gut, eh?"

"Ha, doubtful," Trevor snorted softly, briefly imaging a robotic Redbird wandering aimlessly about like a statuesque roomba. "You're right, she's not interested in being bipedal full time. Get the impression she finds legs as a means of propulsion vaguely hilarious." The AI was polite enough about it but she had a strong competitive streak when it came to speed. That social nature was part of the issue. "More an extension of her hologram, for interaction. Furion riders rarely leave their vehicles. Even then, other autonomic machine intelligences about. Here, she gets... bored." The secrecy of her existence on Earth meant that Redbird spent a lot of time at loose ends. Unlike the spaceways of the Terminus, the crowded city streets of Freedom were not always practical places for a motorcycle, in or out of battle. "Nothing she's set on. Just an idea. Interesting challenge, at least."

Best Out of Character Practices I've talked a lot about the in character reasons to want to make sure your character balances being connected to the setting and other player characters and having their own, personal niche to occupy. There are several good reasons to consider overlap out of character as well. If your new character duplicates several characteristics from an existing PC, there's every chance that character's player will feel slighted, even if it was unintentional. In the worst case scenario, they may feel they've been copied and your new PC will come across as a knock off. That's the very definition of bad overlap. No player owns the totality of the elements going into their characters, but they are invested in them and it's only polite to respect that. If you're not sure whether they'd be bothered by your idea, just ask! If they really do have a problem with it, work with them to find a good compromise using some of the techniques we explored above. Another unfortunately common scenario is when one player mentions in chat an idea for a character they're considering and shortly after another player submits a very similar PC. Again, there's no official way to 'reserve' a concept, but that first player will have a completely legitimate reason to feel that the second player has taken advantage of them. They may have been waiting until they hit another veteran reward level or maybe they were just finessing the concept before committing to it; either way, they've had the rug pulled out from under them. If you hear an idea you like, ask before jumping all over it. If you know another character is planning a PC similar to a concept you'd like to pursue, talk to them about it. You may be able to entwine the ideas together. Perhaps your aquatic heroes were childhood friends before traveling to the surface, or maybe your ring bearing aliens were on opposite sides of an intergalactic war. That way you both end up with a richer narrative! In both situations, you have to be prepared for someone to tell you that, no, they aren't okay with you pursuing that character concept. Most players will be open to compromise if you are, but at some point you may have to simply respect their wishes. It can be frustrating, but this is a social game and sometimes you have to be the person who takes one for the team. Discussing overlap in chat can also be a good way to get character concept ideas in the first place. When you've got that character slot burning a hole in your pocket but no clear favourite idea to pursue, ask around. Maybe there's a team that's really hurting for a particular archetype or powerset. There's almost always going to be other new characters getting started at the same time; find out if they're missing an entertaining dynamic. You can even plan new characters together entirely from scratch, intertwining their backstories and designing them to complement each others' strengths and weaknesses. Bottom line, communication is key. Nobody knows the intricacies of a character better than that character's player and a second set of eyes and opinions during the early stages of character design can go a long way. You're part of a community! Take advantage of that. Hopefully this little treatise has been helpful, or at least illuminated the reasoning behind the advice I give personally. Remember, the concept behind your character deserves just as much time as their mechanical statistics! Take that time to recognize where your character would overlap with others and ask yourself: is it good overlap or bad overlap?

Trevor made a flat sound with his tongue as he found a container of spring rolls and took a seat. "Tch. Theory, lately. Dull." It wasn't that brushing up on the planning side of engineering wasn't still useful, but considering some of the things the young gadgeteer had already built, even under pressure, it was difficult to back to writing out formulae over and over. "Redbird expressed interest in synthoids." The autonomic machine intelligence wasn't particularly interested in being any more human or even organic in general but on Earth her nature made it much more difficult to interact with other beings than she was accustomed to on the Silver Tree. "Debating wisdom there."

Wail took note as the Impala came screeching into the battle and the insubstantial gangster took on a more solid appearance. "Here's hoping this doesn't make me look like a damned fool," he muttered under his breath before kicking off of the pavement again with enough force to close the remaining distance between himself and the phantom, bringing one sizable fist down in haymaker backed by gravity down into the reasonably solid thief. Once again his attack went clean through his target but this time is displaced ghostly substance in the process, evaporating the floating form back into the ether. "...humph." LaMarr looked from his fist to the space where the gangster had been a moment before with a subtly raised eyebrow before turning to damaged car as it pulled up.

Kimber had been uncharacteristically silent while the others greeted their returned thread, watching Sharl so intently that her ectoplasmic form forgot to blink, trepidation written broadly across her translucent face. The mention of the holographic teen's family in Tronik seemed to snap her out of her thoughts with a shuddering start, hurriedly responding, "Th-they were fine, yes! I made sure they didn't... that they didn't see y-you." The words seemed to take an effort for the normally verbose spirit, he voice quavering slightly. "Leroj... he was already gone when we got there. The Curator, he-- A lot of people were gone. You... you were gone, too. You were just gone." The phantom wrapped her arms around herself, the memory of Sharl slipping away in her arms playing over and over again in her mind as she found she couldn't look the revived version in the eyes.

Wail Move Action: Leap over to Ghost Gangster. Standard Action: Unarmed Attack; All-Out Attack 5. (1d20+13=29) Improved Grab: Opposed Grapple Check. (1d20+23=42)