Gizmo
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"Just making sure we're clear," Trevor replied calmly, neither visibly upset nor off-put by the challenging expression. He knew full well that Eve was not someone overly given to apology or shows of weakness. Of course, neither was Erin, but given a little time to cool off he was hoping that the issue would resolve itself; he certainly didn't relish the thought of playing peacekeeper between them. "Come on, I'll put a pot on," he offered, starting off toward the manor's nearest kitchen, intending to give his girlfriend some literal space.
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"My outlook on death is just fine, thank you very much," Ghost Girl replied to the Shadow primly, still giving him a disapproving look. "It hasn't made me a big, selfish jerk, for one thing! I don't know what a yūrei is, but I bet it's mean..." the translucent phantom muttered crossing her arms. "The whole world's in trouble, everybody, and all you and your friends can think about is looting? How is that okay? You should be ashamed of yourselves!" She unconsciously floated a little bit higher into the air as she admonished the radioactive specter.
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The massive, sword wielding figure had disappeared once it was clear the battle was over, leaving a cloud of crackling, blue-tinged smoke in its wake. The metamagi siblings walked out from the obscuring smog looking battered and singed, moving unsteadily until they spotted the others gathering around Archeville. "You!" Jack all but roared, bone-weariness the only thing apparently keeping him from lunging at the scientist right then and there. "What happened to her?! What did Mona just do to save your sorry skin?" The last vestiges of gathered power flickered around his extended, accusatory finger, but didn't coalesce into anything. "Stop," Jill implored, following after her brother and pulling hard on his shoulder to force him to come up short, both of them looking about ready to fall over in any case. "Just... just stop," she continued, looking forlorn as she rubbed her face with the heel of her free hand and tried to marshal her thoughts. "I... need to find Mara, make sure... I need to go." "Yeah... right, okay," Jack allowed, taking a deep breath that looked like it hurt a little. "Hey, Goggles," he called to Gekoman, taking the teenagers nonchalant manner regarding his missing arm as a cue that the injury was less serious that it seemed. "Get him to a hospital or turn him over the League, whatever you think. I can't get past wanting to kick his ass right now." Turning back to Archeville, he pointed his finger again, his voice steely serious and hot with anger. "If I see you near my people again, I will, too. You find a way to bring Mona back or don't come back at all." With that, the siblings limped off, washing their hands of the entire affair for the time being.
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Couple of things after a quick glance: just wearing a military uniform isn't really a costume, especially if he's getting cheatsy and using sunglasses instead of a real mask. Granted, Clark Kent-ing works in-setting, so those sunglasses could feasibly protect his secret identity, but he should look like a superhero. We try to stay away from the 'too cool/gritty/etc. for tights' vibe. By contrast, John Stweart's Indigo Lantern look would be fine, so you can still go for something with a military feel to it. 'Being stubborn' is not sufficient justification for Immunity to all Will-based effects. For context, Fortitude Immunity is reserved for robots and ghosts, things that are not alive in the traditional sense. By extension, Will Immunity would imply that he has no mind to target whatsoever. Given how expensive that power is anyway, your points would be much better spent giving him an appropriately high Will Save and then spending the remained elsewhere. This is getting more nitpicky, but his current Intelligence, Wisdom and Charisma make him a bit bland. Not bad, just totally average. I'd also expect a university student to have at least one decent Knowledge skill; +5 is typically someone with a little training or familiarity, while +10 is enough for a degree or professional use. On the whole, he just feels like a load of physical abilities with a few leftover points spent of the places that make him an actual person.
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If Mark was endeavouring to draw as much attention to himself as possible and Joe was doing his best to slip by completely unnoticed, the arrival of Trevor Hunter and his companion stuck the middle ground. The rented car that pulled up in front of the Chateau was luxurious, true, but by no means the most expensive vehicle seen that day. Its occupants were friendly and sociable if approached, but didn't go out of their way to strike up conversation. The heir to the Hunter fortune was indeed on the guest list and a familiar name to those with related business interests, but meant little to the true social elite. In total the pair provided just enough information to tell anyone with a passing curiosity all they needed to know, letting them fill in the blanks and then discard them as of no particular interest either way.
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Alright, I'm really unclear who's with who at this point. Can we get some clarification on where everybody is right now?
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"Way to show up, new guy," Jill drawled in a slow tone that was due to weariness as much as sardonic manner. The young woman slipped her feet over the ledge of the rooftop, sitting down and letting her legs dangle off of the side. "He's here, it's fine," her brother responded, for once his jocular, baiting sense of humour subdued by the gravity of the situation. "We should get moving; more people see us out and about the better." Freedom City's less affluent communities had become powder kegs in the last few days, leaving the street level heroes to play damage control and provide a reminder that there was still hope to be had while their space-bound peers tackled the planet ending threat head-on.
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Midnight made a flat harrumphing noise that managed to articulate his annoyed disdain despite its brevity. "Should try talking him down," he allowed, though he clearly had little hope of success there. The Norse pantheon was not known for its susceptibility to reasoned argument, and even among them Donor had a reputation for violence and mule-headedness. "Like any other rioter. Lashing out thinking there won't be time for consequences." Granted, the scale was different, but the motivations were frustratingly base.
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"That's right," LaMarr confirmed, nodding to the officer even as he tilted his head down slightly to regard the more sensibly proportioned man. "Just an ill-advised extracurricular activity by these young men who I trust are going to think long and hard about better uses for their free time." Wail put just enough heat and volume into the words to make sure the fear of right was well and truly instilled in the would-be robbers. Looking between the frozen thug and the police officer for a moment, he offered in explanation, "Freedom City, huh?"
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"Hnn. Talking," Midnight grumbled, his voice grating flatly even as he turned back toward the deeper recesses of the cavern. At some point he must have made a gesture or subtle command, because a bank of lights mounted on the ceiling suddenly lit up, illuminating one of the larger vehicles in the Manor's extensive collection even as mechanisms rotated to position it toward the twisting path back outside. This particular iteration of the Night Cruiser had enough room for all present and its black paint absorbed the light being shone on it like smooth tar. "Let's welcome Donar to the neighbourhood."
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Trevor indicated the door to Eve through a combination of the tilt of his head, a slight pressure from the hand on her shoulder and a pointed thought over their telepathic rapport. "Know Erin wanted to grab a shower," he said aloud tactfully as he led the way out of the room. The bathroom adjoining to Erin's bedroom at the manor would more than suffice and give the others a chance to make a seamless exit. Once they were out in the hall, the young man let out a long breath and glanced over to his friend. "Already clear why that was a bad idea," he asked rhetorically.
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Ghost Girl Switch of Morph AP, Diplomacy Check. (1d20+17=35)
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"No, Koshiro!" Kimber cried in distress even as she more or less ignored Rustbelt's ineffective attempts to hurt her. "Stay good! Stay good!" The last syllable was muffled somewhat by the stone fist that sailed right through her masked and hooded face, enough so that she turned to her attacker with a miffed expression. "Is part of the name 'Ghost Girl' confusing you, or what?" she inquired testily, floating through the animated concrete to float right in front of the supposed city spirit. Her appearance rippled once again, but this time the change was accompanied by a soft, inner glow that was at once terrible to behold and too beautiful to tear one's gaze away. She still appeared as herself, but merged with the iconography of Rustbelt's own appearance, a manifestation of the metropolis itself. This vision however was glimmering and pristine, new monorail lines and gleaming towers, slate grey of well maintained machinery and the promise of a fresh start for those willing to work and honest day. Lifting hands glistening with the black of fresh tarmac, she placed them on Rustbelt's cheeks and whispered in a singsong voice that echoed from so very far away, "Shh... Quiet now. Rest now."
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"Son, slow down." LaMarr didn't have to raise his voice above normal, human levels for it to be commanding, resonating through his broad chest with the authority of dedicated teacher. "It sounds to me like you've a real gift there," he continued, pointing with a thick finger toward the teenager's forehead, "but you're smart enough to know that kind of power doesn't usually come free. Who knows you can... 'see' how to make things like that? Have you spoken to a meta-physician? Brain powers are nowhere to fool around or take chances."
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I'm assuming Attractive doesn't come into play here ('cause ew) so: Diplomacy Check. (1d20+9=20)
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"Boy, super-villains sure are angry..." Ghost Girl muttered largely to herself as she floated back a few paces worth of air as the Hiroshima Shadow appeared and baited the dwindling group. "I guess that sorta makes sense, though. Still!" Gliding forward again, she planted her ethereal fist on her hips, tattered reaper fluttering about her feet as she gave the radioactive apparition a stern look. "Now look, this isn't a good time for this, and you know it! I'm sure we can talk this out, ghost to ghost, right?"
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"...right," LaMarr responded finally, after giving the teenager a level look to make sure he wasn't just pulling his leg. "Des, I'm getting the impression you may have been holding out on your schoolwork." At some point, any superhero worth their salt in Freedom City either became a scientist themselves or learned to simply nod along when then the exposition came out. "Now, we're about the have the authorities asking a lot of personal questions," he continued, giving Desmarais a frank look, "so it's time to decide just how much of that you want to explain to them."
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Kimber yelped loudly as the power suddenly cut out, placing her hands over her mouth in the darkness. "Oh marmalade!" It took her a moment to remember that she was able to see just fine in the abrupt shadows, and there was a brief gust of chilling wind from her direction as she lost concentration for a split second. "Okay, okay..." she muttered quietly to herself as she stubbornly reclaimed her composure, looking about the room as she floated over her teammates' heads. "Um, should I... look around? Like, scout the perimeter?"
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With the considerable turn-out of heroes, including the notably big league and camera friendly Miss Americana, the shouted claims of abandonment became increasingly unfounded. The mood of the crowd was still uncertain, fear feeding anger, but they were no longer a mob waiting to happen. Despite the instructions to return to their homes, many of the civilians simply milled about, looking lost. Either they had nowhere to return to or just didn't see the point. The bleakness was palpable as small groups gravitated toward Willow on the street and the base of the buildings the other heroes were perched atop, looking for some further guidance. "Hey Stars," Jack called over to the patriotic paragon in tired greeting. "Thanks for the assist. We're a little short staffed lately."
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"Legerdemain," Midnight responded in a gravelly bass with the quality of gravel being pressed through a paper shredder. "Go as yourself, Danger. Draw attention. While eyes are on you, others can gather information unnoticed." A subtle shift in the black clad figure's body language vaguely suggested a grimace behind his unreadable mask. "Know too little. Typhoon's account... may be coloured. Unreliable. Don't like working blind." Trevor's training had actually included a considerable amount of practice in pitch darkness, naturally, but knowledge was indisputably power.
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"Desmarais?" LaMarr asked aloud, frowning slightly in surprise at the ray gun's display before walking over with long strides to give the youth a hand up from his tangled position atop the chip rack. "Son, what the sam hill was all that?" The junior's penchant for debate made him one of the earsplitting educator's best civics students, but the bizarre weaponry was something new altogether. There wasn't much Wail hadn't seen over the decades, but turning someone to hueless newsprint qualified as odd even by his standards.
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Should be good to go!
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quote, you've got 24 hours to post for Ferros. We're not in initiative yet, but dealing with the mob is the first 'encounter', and I want to keep this moving.
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Notice Check. (1d20+11=17) Nnh...
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Fort Save vs. DC 30. (1d20+7=19) Fort Save vs. DC 30, HP reroll. (1d20+7=10) ...ouch. Okay, so fails by 10. That's staggered?
