Gizmo
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"So I hear," Trevor agreed in his habitual, barely inflected deadpan. "Youngest has actually taken up with some absurd Western type, if you can believe." There was a momentary, vaguely awkward pause. The Hunter heir wasn't overly communicative in the first place and even less so when it came to feelings. It was also always a little difficult for him to properly parse Mark's unrelenting optimism. "That's... going well, I take it?" he attempted, not entirely sure if this fell under the obligations of 'guy talk' or not.
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"Mark. Alright; getting used to it. Called ahead this time, at least." Trevor's eyebrows lowered slightly as Mark's explanation got his attention, sloughing off the last vestiges of doziness. "Hnn. Remind me, Moarkot is where in line for the throne?" While keeping the engagement a secret until the formal announcement was certainly dramatic enough to be in keeping with the Socotran royal family's modus operandi, the burgeoning detective in Trevor couldn't help but feel that there wouldn't be a secret in the first place if the truth wasn't somehow surprising. If nothing else, holding the engagement party in Freedom City raised questions.
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"No," Trevor assured his passenger as they tore through the fabric of reality to emerge in the most feared dimension of the multiverse. "Usually dress more casually." The dark haired detective's deadpan was such that the Kinigosi immigrant could have been forgiven for not being certain if he was making an attempt at humour or not. Regardless, the commented reminded him to place his palm flush with the curving metal in front of him, the Night Cycle's transformed plating splitting apart to reveal a compartment from which he retrieved a featureless black mask set with ruby lenses. Putting it on beneath his fedora, he called to Eve across their permanent mental link, --Sorry about the distraction. We'll wrap this up and get back to your party.-- He knew the telepath had been looking forward to the all too rare opportunity for catching up and socialization and didn't plan to disappoint her. "I believe Max is telling the truth," Redbird offered. "I detected Terminus energies about the Overriders but... I cannot be more specific." The autonomic intelligence sounded rather perturbed by that; having been designed specifically to combat the forces of entropy, she was not used to such vagueness.
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With a sigh that didn't manage to sound overly put-upon given the head of auburn hair tucked in beside him, Trevor accepted the phone and dialed Mark's number. Privately the heir to the Midnight name had to admit he was a little surprised that his friend's relationship with the Princess of Socotra was evidently still going well. From his brief dealings with Nina al-Darsah, he'd assumed she fell into the category of women happy to make use of Mark's All-American charms and move on amicably. From the length of time and the increasingly frequency with which the name of Typhoon's daughter worked its way into conversation with the probability controller, however, it seemed to be developing into something altogether different.
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In retrospect, it had been extremely fortunate that Jill had started stepping briskly toward Dragonfly the moment the tired teleporter reappeared in the Vault. If she hadn't, the medic would have been standing precisely where the spear of shrapnel was quivering, its opposite end buried in the interdimensional transporter. It would have been slightly more fortunate, admittedly, if she'd been a bit further to her right when the explosion had ripped though the cavern but as she struggled to pick herself up from the floor, ears ringing and pain pulsing in her left arm, she didn't have the spatial awareness to consider the matter in any depth. "...ow," she managed to croak after a new moments, reflexively putting pressure on the gash across her upper arm with her opposite hand.
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"That way lies madness," Trevor advised philosophically, his eyes still closed and one hand between his head and a pillow. Trying to parse the internal logic of Mark's abilities and behaviour could end only in some combination of migraine and existential dread and he honestly could not be bothered with either just then. It was nice to have a little context for Erin's irritated shouting of their friend's name earlier, though. "Socotra... Hnn. Should go," the dark haired young man mused, opening one onyx and ruby eye to watch the muted light play across Erin's back. "High profile appearance for Hunter heir and lovely companion, likely followed by high profile appearance for Liberty League if al-Darsah is true to form."
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Jack was moving a little unsteadily as he descended the stairs along with the other two heroes - that is, unsteadily by his own high standards of fluid grace. One palm covered an eye, fingers attempting unsuccessfully to massage away the growing ball of pain sitting just behind his brow. "Nnh. Why's it always gotta be hellfire? Regular old fire not good enough for kids these days?" he cracked half-heartedly, giving his head a shake and trying to focus. While Gabriel saw to the injured civilian, the swordsman stepped next to Harrier and lowered his voice. "Listen, I've hand some, uh, bad experiences with this stuff, get me? If I start acting off the rails, you might have to take me down." After a beat, he clarified, "I mean knock me out. Gently, even." Straightening his shoulders, Jack walked forward a few more steps before folding his arms. "So, big pile o' demon bugs, huh? That sure is a thing. Labour Day, you wanna splash some holy water or whatever on them? Is that how this works?"
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"Ohmigosh, Eve!" Kimber cried out upon finally catching sight of the telepath and nearly rocketing back up into the sky in horrified shock. "Living people aren't supposed to look like that!" Shaking her hands about in distress, the currently solid poltergeist floated around the injured Frenchwoman, bobbing up and down in a manner that sent her electric blue hair bouncing about. "Should you be walking around when you're that hurt?! Oh, oh oh! I'm really super strong right now, I can carry you, okay? Or are you not supposed to move at all? Ooh...!" Expression etched with worry, she finally stopped in front of Eve, hands balled into fists and placed tightly against her chin.
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Oh snap, a baby! For reference, the first floor of the Espadas house: Backyard _|-|___________________ | | | | | | ___| | | | | | |____________|-|__| | | ..... | | | | | | | | | |_| |_| | | | | | |__________|-|__________| Porch Erik and Gina are near the forward wall, near the front door. The kitchen/dining room is a long, narrow room along the left side of the house; that's where Vince's laptop is set up right now. The stairs up to the second floor are in the middle while the first-floor bedroom and bathroom are along the back wall, which is where Willow, Ellie and Yolanda are. Feel free to have your characters already there or just arriving as you like.
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May 21, 2012 Erik Espadas was a man who had faced everything from alien armadas to demons from the foulest pits, a living weapon honed to peerless sharpness by talent and training, a hero who risked his life routinely with no regard for risk or fear of failure. None of which helped in the least to prevent him pacing back and forth across the living room of his family home, hands clasped behind his back and shoulders set with stress as obvious as the fretting expression plastered across his face. More than half a year of mental and emotional preparation had evaporated the first time Willow had experienced a 'fake' contraction earlier in the week. Now, as the rest of the house filled with family and friends preparing, the knowledge that he was about to become a father had become somehow more real. Running a hand across his heavily stubbled jawline, the fencer redoubled the speed of his pacing. "Try not to wear a rut into the floor too deep for my chair to get over," a wry, matronly voice requested as Gina Espadas wheeled out of the adjacent bedroom and over to her son. Still inside, his thankfully medically trained sister saw to the heavily pregnant dryad in what, surprisingly enough, was not her first experience with midwifery. Although Ellie had made the case for handling the whole affair in a regular hospital, Willow's fairly obviously more-than-human nature presented a problematic risk to their collective secret identities. Compromising, she'd asked her girlfriend to clear a section of the Lab's extensively equipped medical floor, intending to use Mara's teleportation technology to whisk the soon-to-be mother there once they were sure she was about to go into labour. In the meantime, the West End home had accumulated the eclectic assortment of characters collectively known as the Interceptors, including the artificial intelligence colloquially known as Vince running on a borrowed laptop and the quietly precocious six-year-old girl Ellie and Mara had brought back along with more than three hundred refugees of a recently destroyed alternate reality. Orphaned by the creatures who had devastated her version of Earth, Yolanda had been staying with Gina and Ellie since a few strings had been pulled to have the former expediently declared her legal guardian. While Vince had elected to have his monitor left in the kitchen area with a joke about staying out of the way, Yolanda had taken up a cross-legged vigil in one corner of the bedroom, silently watching the proceedings with wide eyes. Erik gathered that this wasn't even the first time the little girl had been present for a birth and considerably better circumstances. He found himself envying her composure.
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Reflex Save vs. DC 15. (1d20+10=13) Toughness Save vs. DC 18. (1d20+6=16) Thank goodness for Evasion 2 and Uncanny Dodge. That's a bruise, anyway.
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Wail - Initiative. (1d20+2=11)
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As a note for posterity, I'm going to be using this build but treating the Toughness as +25 to give Giant Wander something that'll take more than one punch. Kaiju Toughness Save vs. DC 44. (1d20+25=31) Oof! Okay, Fiat to reduce that to a bruise for now. Have an HP, Erin! Standard Action: Attack Giant Wander. (1d20+10=28) That's a DC 35 Toughness Save for her, let me know how that goes and I'll move on to the rest of the combat for the round.
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(20:37:44) Gizmo: Huh. (20:38:21) AvengerAssembled: I think Green Lantern should be about Shaquille O'Neal now. (20:39:00) KnightDisciple: My mind is blown (20:39:44) KnightDisciple: "Is it just me, or did John Stewart just gain over a foot in height and at least 50 pounds of muscle?" "What are you talking about he's always been that way?" (20:40:42) Gizmo: Nah, I like John. For the biggest improvement they'd need to replace Hal with Shaq. (20:40:53) Ecalsneerg: Replace everyone with Shaq? (20:40:57) AvengerAssembled: Not the first time Shaq has replaced Jordan, amirite folks?
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Midnight II Move Action: Demoralize Goon 2, Auto-DC 30 w/ Skill Mastery. Free Action: Arrange Gadgets Stun 6 (Extras: Ranged, Power Feats: Accurate 2) [20PP]Standard Action: Stun Goon 2. (1d20+14=21) DC 30 Save against Intimidate and DC 16 Fort Save.
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Midnight has 25 with Skill Mastery, although he may still be Dazzled?
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Redbird let her holographic representation blink out of view the moment the new Wyldrides appeared, evidently expecting some sort of trouble if not the absolute debacle that followed. The moment Hard Mama began shouting, the Night Cycle's form shifted, becoming longer and more streamlined while notably adopting an aesthetic different from the gang's vehicles. The autonomic intelligence already had her modified shell in motion as Trevor leapt just off the ground, their timing so exact that his hands had found the handlebars before his legs had even touched the wing-emblazoned sides. "I seem to be experiencing acute embarrassment," the alto voice confessed. "Beating them in a race help?" Trevor asked with a misleading casualness, bringing the hovering bike around in a tight circle to give Indira a chance to hop on herself before rocketing upward in pursuit. "Very much, yes," Redbird confirmed in a tone that somehow implied a predatory smile, the pulsing spheres of energy at either end of the Night Cycle flaring with cosmic power as she poured on the speed.
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The man leaning against the brick wall across the street from the imminent altercation would have been inconspicuous had he not been a veritable mountain of muscle, easily six and a half feet tall and broad enough to put professional linebackers to shame. Keith LaMarr waited patiently with his powerful arms folded across the yellow zig-zag pattern emblazoned across his shirt, watching the confident hero in white and the aggressive young man who joined him threaten the assembled criminals. The aging high school teacher better known in some circles as the earsplitting Wail had seen the same situation play out more times than he cared to remember and something about this time didn't sit right with him. If everything was as it seemed, the pair already in the thick of it would have little trouble; otherwise, it wouldn't hurt to let things play out a bit before intervening.
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Watching the grainy feed of the reptilian beasts, Jill swallowed slowly in spite of the composure she was maintaining for the sake of the remaining refugees. "I kinda thought 'dragon' was going to be a figurative title," she admitted to Samson as a gout of entropic breath took another camera offline. Recalling Yolanda's last words before departing and the state the young girl had been in when they first met, an insistent ball of tension formed low in the medic's chest, something between that sat heavily like fear but burned hot like fury. Compounding things, she found herself without anyone's lead to follow. Okay, fine. What would Erik do? She was pretty sure the answer was, 'say something pithy about dragon slaying and charge the monsters with a pointy stick,' which didn't seem as immediately helpful as she might have liked. "Do you have any way to collapse those tunnels?" she asked Samson, reaching absently for a ponytail that had been cut off more than a year previously. "Dragonfly can always teleport the others in here without them."
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There was a pause and heavy silence before Ellie wordlessly ran forward ignoring Mona's outstretched hand to wrap her arms as far around the statuesque paragon as they could reach. Her older brother was only a few steps behind her, the wariness holding him in place bending than snapping loose as he practically tackled his long absent friend. "Mo', we thought... I really thought you were..." he attempted to make out from within the hug, for once completely unconcerned by appearances. The fencer made a ragged sound as he stepped away finally, something that wasn't quite sure if it was a laugh or not. Rubbing his jawline, he grinned in spite of himself. "So, uh, listen," he began finally with a glance in Willow's direction before turning back to Mona. "You still babysitting?"
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Redbird Full Action: Enhance Vehicle Enhanced Dodge 4 [4PP] Snare 8 [16PP]
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Ghost Girl - Initiative. (1d20+3=8)
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Midnight II - Initiative. (1d20+5=8) Redbird - Initiative. (1d20+3=22) Kaiju - Initiative. (1d20+5=16) Giant Crocodiles - Initiative. (1d20+1=9) 22 - Redbird - Uninjured 21 - Wander - Uninjured, 3HP 16 - Kaiju - Uninjured 9 - Giant Crocodiles (x6) - Uninjured 8 - Midnight II - Uninjured, 4HP
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Jack of all Blades (12) Interceptors: From the Ground Floor (1) Scrier's Masquerade (1) Demon in a Bottle (10) Midnight II (12) Faded Giant (1) Spoiler Alert (1) Vault Construction 101 (3) Greater Love (4) Gathering Like Clouds (3) Ghost Girl (10) It's Gonna Be the Future Soon (7) Raising Spirits (2) Call, Raise, or Fold (1) GM (3) Hours in the Day (3) Jill O'Cure (NPC) (27/2=13) Hours in the Day (14) The Hard Hand of Fate (13) Okay, so! I'm going to turn the GM and NPC posts over the Jack to push him over the 25 post mark. From there they funnel down to Ghost Girl along with Midnight's posts and the monthly Ref Point.
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"Preaching to the choir," Jill agreed with a shrug as her world's Ironclad rambled exasperatedly about their frustrating situation. If anything, the medic was feeling a little less charitable in her attitude than even the armored heroine, but they both knew they were going to help the resistance against Mastermind regardless and there wasn't anybody present worth berating over their abduction. There was little doubt in her mind that they would succeed - her family was not known for a lack of confidence - and the sooner they did so the sooner they could go home. At the appearance of the second Ironcald, she gave the first a helpless look. Before Goggles could carry Armor off, however, the elder crime-fighting sibling appeared, jogging the cramped hallway from the opposite direction. "Hey, ladies! Tell me one of you has found a room big enough for an actual work-out," the fencer pleaded, looking from face to face and unconsciously rolling one shoulder. "I'm going stir crazy here."
