Gizmo
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"Uh... what?" Jack responded dumbly, hand paused in the air halfway through reaching for his costume. He played back Steve's words in his head a few time, rolling them around and rearranging them as he attempted to parse their meaning in context. He recognized all the individual syllables, but they didn't make any sense coming from the former Omegadrone. "Wait, so... Steve, are you saying... are you having girl trouble?" The swashbuckler might have burst out laughing if conversation with the solemn cyborg didn't tend to dampen that reflex. "Ah, I mean, sure buddy. I'll be over in like fifteen, okay?" If might not have been an attack from the Terminus, but it was sounding like the call had been in regard to a different sort of crisis.
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Midnight gave her a slightly skeptical look from behind the ruby red goggles set in his featureless black mask, but nevertheless stepped forward and onto Wander's newly gargantuan hand. It was more than passingly odd to see lines he was so familiar with writ on so large a scale and he had to resist the urge to move his feet about when his subconscious realized what he was standing on without remembering the change in size. Down below, Redbird quietly noted to herself, "Reconfiguring." As she did, both of the Night Cycle's wheels folded in upon themselves while simultaneously sputtering with deep red energy. In moments, the tires had been replaced with what appeared to be spheres of sanguine light which let out a sound like a flaring conflagration as they lifted the motorcycle into the air to hover alongside Wander's shoulder, patiently waiting.
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Erik Espadas sat abruptly up in his seat as the called on the other end of the line identified himself. "Hey, Six Million Dollar Man," he greeted jauntily, reflexively slipping into the more jocular persona of Jack of all Blades, the wisecracking, devil-may-care master of swordsmanship. "Whadda we got, big guy?" he inquired, already moving to the concealed compartment at the back of the closet in the apartment over the self defense school he shared with Willow when she felt like sleeping inside. Shifting the false back to one side revealed a familiar royal blue greatcoat. "We talking the Big T? Should I be calling in the whole gang?"
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"Reconfiguring," Redbird's voice announced calmly from within the Night Cycle, the autonomic machine intelligence's inflection making the word an implied threat. As she spoke, the entire vehicle seemed to come apart at the seams, panels folding and opening up along its sleek framework where moments before there had been no such panels. The motorcycle's body shifted closer to the ground, lengthening slightly amidst the sounds of whirring machinery and the hum of cosmic energies. Transforming from a piece of precision human engineering into a tool of Furion combat, a pair streamlined cannons extended out and forward on each side of the Night Cycle, deep red light pouring from new vents running along the engine's housing. "Analyzing." A holographic heads-up display of the same colour lit up in the air between the handlebars, spooling with data on the ill-mannered attackers.
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Redbird Full Action: Enhance Vehicle. Damage 12 (Extras: Ranged, Flaws: Action [Full], Power Feats: Accurate) (cosmic weaponry) [13PP] Enhanced Dodge 4 [4PP] Speed 3 [3PP] She'll also make a 25 Notice check with Skill Mastery, using her Analytical Visual senses on the bad guys.
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The spatial warp found its mark, smashing against the thinned side of Lady Lunar's telekinetic protection like a multidimensional cannonball. The deposed Farsider monarch shrieked in disbelief, hastily reinforcing her barrier and breathing heavily as a single strand of knee-length platinum blonde hair fell from its place to hand over her furrowed brow. "Savage Earthling scum!" she spat in between gasps. "Our mental powers far outstrip any paltry tricks your pitiful, primitive technology or backward magics could produce! You will not find Our shield weakened again!" "Hey! Say what you want about magic," Jill called back, frustrated that the combination attack had only worn the villainess down rather than taking her out altogether, "but don't you ever talk smack about 'Fly's tech!" Inwardly, the young woman's mind was racing, trying to come up with an idea. Tired as they both were after that day's improbably series of fights, the chances of battering through Lady Lunar's formidable defenses seemed slim. The medic's eyes lit up, however, as she realized that a powerful force field could cut both ways. Raising both hands, digits wreathed in blue light, she turned the concave barrier protecting herself and Dragonfly convex, then pushed it forward toward Lady Lunar like the scoop of a runaway snowplow. As the bioelectric construct connected with the bubble of willpower surrounding the Farsider, it bent further, wrapping around in a second sphere then constricting, forcing the two force fields tighter and tighter around the willowy royal. "I-impossible! You cannot--!" Lady Lunar began, sputtering with effort as she attempted to push back against the enveloping energy. "Actually," Jill interrupted with a dainty sniff that belied the beads of sweat forming behind her crimson bandana mask, "shut up about magic, too." The bubbles abruptly collapsed, leaving her foe pinned by a skintight layer of crackling power that pinned her arms to her sides and held her in place despite her enraged scream.
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Jill O'Cure Move Action: Auto-DC 24 Taunt vs. Lady Lunar. Extra Effort: Power Stunt. Snare 12 (Extras: Backlash, Constricting, Power Feats: Accurate 2, Reversible, Tether) [52PP]Standard Action: Snare Lady Lunar: Ranged Attack vs. Lady Lunar. (1d20+8=23) Lady Lunar Will Save vs. DC 24. (+1 for Repeated Taunt) (1d20+13=26) Reflex Save vs. DC 22. (1d20+5=7) Toughness Save vs. DC 21. (1d20+10=18) 15 - Dragonfly - Uninjured - 1HP 11 - Jill O'Cure - Uninjured, Extra Effort 5 - Lady Lunar - Bruised x4, Helpless (Defense 8 vs Ranged, 4 vs Melee)
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Rising to a standing position atop the Night Cycle is a fluid motion, Midnight jumped from the motorcycle towards the nearest animal enclosure, hoisting himself atop the tall fence and eventually making his way to the roof of a washroom building, bringing him roughly level with Wander's knee in her crouching position. After a moment of silent consideration, the masked man commented, "Were right about leaving the Manor." While the inflectionless deadpan might have left someone overhearing confused as to his attitude, for Erin the weak attempt at ill-timed humour was an obvious sign that Trevor had found himself without an immediate plan and was trying to keep them both calm while he wracked his mind.
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Initiative. (1d20+5=11)
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Jack of all Blades (5) Interceptors: From the Ground Floor (2) Scrier's Masquerade (3) Midnight II (16) Spoiler Alert (1) Faded Giant (1) Vault Construction 101 (3) Greater Love (11) Vignette Wail (2) Science Shenanigans (1) Kramp My Style (1) Ghost Girl (3) It's Gonna Be the Future Soon (1) Raising Spirits (2) GM (5) Kramp My Style (1) Hours in the Day (4) Slooow month. The GM PP should go to Jack first for the sake of vet reward total, then everything can rollover to Ghost Girl, which should be enough to push her past the 25 post mark along with the 2 extra PP for the vignette and GM point.
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Continued from vignette... Within moments, the Night Cycle had maneuvered around the zoo's circular pathway to the now gigantic Wander, though Midnight remained far enough back to both make looking up at her face a little more convenient and avoid being directly underfoot. It seemed a sensible precaution to the startled group of gorillas still on the ground, who had warily retreated to a safer distance without quite fleeing entirely. "How do you feel?" he called upward, resisting the temptation to inanely ask if she was alright. "Excellent!" Redbird spoke up heartily from within the motorcycle, the Furion part of her current personality matrix overcoming her more recently acquired calm. "Truly, I did not think the shieldmaiden could be made yet more effective in battle. Most impressive."
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"Rude," Redbird opined flatly, giving the impression that had she had any body language to speak of she would have been bristling. Grunting in agreement Midnight whirled into action, his form becoming a blur of black on black as he drew forth a handful of weighted bola from his belt and flung them at the aggressor who'd foolishly threatened the Night Cycle in the same fluid motion. The swift response caught the luminous foe off guard but a lucky reflex sent an armored arm snapping up to shield his face, catching the taunt cables so that they wrapped about his forearm. Impassive even so, Midnight was already making a break for his vehicle in the moment the distraction had bought.
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Nope! Darn! :D
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"It's true!" Gal Vanic chimed in cheerfully as she sped down to float a few feet off of the ground next to Cobalt Templar, evidently completely unworried by the weapons held by the officers, all of whom received a wide smile from the electrified teen. "You can tell 'cause blue is totally a good guy colour!" It was a little difficult to tell if she was joking or not but before any of the Tronik natives had much time to raise an eyebrow she turned slightly to address her senior classmate excitedly. "Cee Tee! I shot lightning! Out of my hands! Kzzap!" Kimber raised her fists and mimed firing bots of energy, making sound effects with her voice.
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Trevor grunted in affirmation and handed the vial to his grandfather. "Erin’s blood," he explained before finishing buckling his jacket and pulling his mask up over his features. "Potentially exposed." The subtlest shift in his body language was all the was necessary to convey to the elder Hunter that his protege would feel much better having heard the results of testing on the sample. The subtlest inclination of Travis' head was all it took to assure him that he need not worry.
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"Sensible," a soft, feminine alto agreed as the matte black Night Cycle wheeled itself, riderless, from its resting place and closer to the pair while Trevor transferred the blood sample to a small vial. Redbird spent the bulk of her ‘free time’ merged with the Night Cycle, occupying herself with its built-in computer systems and wireless connections. The autonomic machine intelligence had a somewhat unsettling habit of only making her presence known when she was addressed or mentioned, but given the human she’d imprinted upon, that wasn’t entirely surprising. The sound of a tapping cane coming down the stairs preceded another voice of a similarly understated tone. "You’ve seen the reports." Travis Hunter, the original Midnight, appeared from the mansion upstairs, moving more slowly than he would have in his younger years. He made his words a statement of fact rather than a question, taking a moment at the base of the stairs to catch his breath.
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The engineer held both hands at shoulder height, finger bent into a vaguely claw like expression of frustration. After a beat a silence, he lowered them and let a breath out through his nose. "Stubborn," he accused with the suggestion of a grumble, stepping quickly to a different rack of equipment to retrieve the kit of tools they’d prepared specifically in case Erin, with her superhumanly durable skin, was found in immediate need of medical attention. "At least taking a blood sample for Gramps to look over while we work," he insisted, producing a syringe.
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"Like hell," Trevor retorted brusquely, his customary black jacket still unfastened and his featureless mask hanging undone about his neck even as he donned his beaten fedora to free up the hand holding it. Slamming a button on the Manor’s intercom with entirely more force than was necessary, he quickly intoned, "Downstairs. Quickly." Turning back aroung, he jogged back to Erin, searching her face intently. "No idea how mutagen might interact with your vaccine. Examination before we go anywhere."
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"Wide range," Trevor grunted somewhat distractedly as filling the compartments of his belt with vial after vial, doing his best to anticipate any possible needs. "Physical transformation, psychokinetic from reports, at least." Turning around he paused midstep as he caught sight of Erin’s expression. Instantly making the connection, his own features softened. "...not going to let it grow out of control," he promised, moving close enough to place one hand on her shoulder.
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"Normal people suddenly developing powers," Trevor clarified as he flicked a series of switches on the massive computer’s old fashioned interface to bring up several different news programs all covering the same thing. "A ‘Mister Motley’ claimed responsibility. Power dealer; growth hormones, genetic cocktails. Never on this scale before..." Grabbing one of the several utility belts hanging in an orderly row on an equipment wall, he used one hand to wrap it around his waist en route to the Midnight Manor’s extensive chemical laboratory. Rifling through the supplies there, he considered quickly what might be of use. "Police, other services responding, spreading too quickly." An announcement coming simultaneous to the various anchors on the screens drew his attention. "...quarantining the city."
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Tilting his head to one side as he listened, Trevor frowned, the most severe expression of the afternoon yet. Producing a handheld tablet from the rear pocket of his pants, with a few swift gestures across its surface he brought up a number of aggregated feeds and news sites. "Hnn. Social sites going crazy. Gas attacks. ‘Motley’...?" Onyx and ruby eye abruptly widening, his hand shot out to fling Erin’s glass of water toward the empty sink where it shattered. "Water supply’s been tainted," he explained urgently, already making his way toward the hidden entrance to the secret caverns below the mansion. "Contagious designer mutagen. Powers erupting all over the city, exponentially."
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"Don’t really have to ask, you know," Trevor reminded her, the particular variant of deadpan suggesting he was well amused. Pouring out two cups, he took a deep sip from his own, rolling the black coffee around his mouth to deal with the dryness left from losing track of time in the workshop before preparing the second cup to Erin’s prescription. Truly, if he could overlook the unholy amount of sweeteners she preferred, there was little he could not forgive in the name of love. "Bit surprised. From what you’ve said, didn’t seem like the type to make weekend plans," he noted of her coworker as he handed her the mug and retrieved a piece of pizza for himself.
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Filling the carafe with filtered water from the refrigerator while the growling machine of the counter reduced the beans to fine grounds, Trevor offered the kitten a vaguely apologetic look, though he expected they both knew that Erin was entirely correct. "Fine," he told her as he poured the water into the coffee maker before closing the lid contemplatively and twitching the corner of his mouth in what, for him, passed for a grimace. "Dull. First year still largely theory. Already know it." Letting out a breath, the engineer crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. "Good practice being... normal, anyway." He’d let his skills at passing as a largely uninteresting heir to a moderate fortune as opposed to the heir to a crime-fighting tradition atrophy somewhat while at Claremont; he couldn’t afford to be sloppy when dealing with his fellow FCU students.
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"Sure there’s food somewhere," Trevor defended as a matter of rote, the kiss leaving a faint smile behind on his otherwise inexpressive face. Turning his attention back to the partially assembled gadget, he grunted softly and placed it unceremoniously on a nearby cutting board, heedless of the last trickles of lubricant still leaking from its innards. "A mess, mostly," he answered Erin question wryly, wiping his hands on his pants before opening the nearest cabinet and deliberating between stacked rows of sealed containers of roasted beans. "Tried to shave off space with a thinner valve; didn’t hold." Making a decision, he retrieved the canister and a scoop. "Smaller: not always better."
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The sound of metal shifting and knocking into other metal came from the workshop down the hallway and before long the dark haired young man in question appeared in the kitchen doorway, simple white t-shirt stained with spots of oil along with his pale skin and roughly half of some unidentifiable gadget held absently in one hand. Trevor blinked his unusually coloured eyes at Erin somewhat owlishly, having been roused from single-minded concentration. "Finished early?" he asked, looking over at the clock above the stovetop and blinking again as he realized the time. "Ah. That would explain why I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten today."
