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Gizmo

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  1. "Tch, Crimson Katana," LaMarr shook his head ruefully. "How many of those have there been now? Well, you're doing the right thing, taking it in stride. Folks can smell scandal, they'll pay a lot more attention if you act like it's a problem." Sipping as his coffee, the experienced hero made a thoughtful sound. "Gonna be a little tougher 'cause you were already in the public eye a bit. People care what the rich get up to, though I couldn't tell you why."
  2. Prying a panel of the sphere as tall as he was free, Midnight studied the crackling inner workings of the reality bomb for a moment, the hair under his fedora standing on end as jolts of cosmic energy surged back and forth. With careful timing, and a little help from Mark's shifting of the odds in his favour, he was able to reach inside and disconnect the pulsating power core from the rest of the bomb, rendering it inert as the deep red glow it was emitting faded away. Taking a moment more to trace the lines of power throughout the device, he yanked free a rod about ten inches long and a single inch wide. Unless he missed his guess, the component was the 'cosmic lightning rod' that would have triggered the world destroyer, consuming Erde is a wash of blackness. Tucking the rod away, the young man produced a sizable quantity of plastic explosives, enough to ensure there would be nothing of the Terminus technology left to be salvaged.
  3. Craft (mechanical) HP reroll. (1d20+15=24) Should be 34, after adjustments.
  4. Craft (Mechanical) Check. (1d20+15=22) Blarg. Well, unless Mark is using his Probability Control, I'll just blow an HP to fix that.
  5. "Heh. Take your pick; LaMarr is fine," the broad-shouldered educator assured Eve, taking a slow sip from his mug. "Coming from money, then. Well, explains the god manners." There had been a time in LaMarr's older days when he would have held that affluence against the young woman, but like many things the years had given him some more objective perspective on that. "Things were a little different back in the day," he noted thoughtfully. "If I was starting today, who knows, I might have kept my ID on the downlow. How've you been coping so far?"
  6. The imposing man chuckled at Eve's effusive explanation, a rumbling bass sound that reverberated a little around the patio. "Keith LaMarr," he introduced himself in turn with a shallow nod. "And now I feel I'm the one who owes an apology. I vaguely recall a news story to that effect, but there are so many of us these days, I have trouble keeping track." During his temporary retirement, LaMarr had allowed himself to lose touch with the heroic community, and now found himself hearing about even well established vigilantes for the first time on a fairly regular basis. "Kurosawa... Feel like I should recognize that. Big business?"
  7. Jolting a bit as Fulcrum patted him on the back, Jack straightened and rubbed the back of his neck. "Dios. Well, I mean... yeah, okay. I guess if that makes sense for you guys, there you go. If anybody's going to make settling down work..." Shaking his head slowly, the fencer managed a rueful half-smile. "Jeez, last man standing, huh..." Taking his hand from the back of his neck to rub the light stubble along his jawline, he nodded. "I should give mi hermanita a shout, get her over here for this, then."
  8. LaMarr snorted flatly, cupping his steaming mug in one broad hand while he rested the opposite elbow on the back of his chair. The big man couldn't put his entire weight on the chair, unfortunately, but he'd long since perfected the way he sat to compensate. "Young lady, I'm a high school teacher. With no false modesty I can tell you I've been the subject of more than a few questionable crushes over the years. Can't imagine anyone being anything but flattered, pretty young woman doing good work." The older man's stern look suggested he wasn't going to hear any more apologies over the harmless misunderstanding.
  9. "Mandibles off, buzz brain!" Jill O'Cure shouted, the nimble young woman the first to launch into movement as the robotic bee's dive at Fleur de Joie went wide. "Why are you even shouting? We're in a prison, it has cameras." Wielding her borrowed stun weapon like a foil, she waited until the massive mechanical menace dropped into range before jabbing it squarely and sending electricity coursing into its delicate circuitry. Unfortunately, the robo-bee simply shrugged off the attack, making Jill wish fervently for her powers' return.
  10. Toughness Save vs. DC 25. (1d20+10=28)
  11. Jill O'Cure Move Action: Auto DC 25 Taunt vs. Robot Bee Standard Action: Taser Attack. (1d20+8=23)
  12. Initiative. (1d20+4=22) What would you lot do without Jill, hmm?
  13. Midnight said nothing as he strode forward, retrieving a handful of exquisitely balance throwing disks from his belt without breaking his stride. A single fluid moment sent the razor bladed projectiles out in a broad arc, slicing into Die Eule and Sea-Wolf without mercy. The young vigilante's true targets, however, were the zip lines from witch the Ãœbersoldaten hung, his weapons shearing the cords as if they were empty air. The surprised Nazi's plummeted to the ground, the hairy beast landing in a graceless, unconscious heap while his acrobatic ally managed to roll through the worst of the damage, though he found himself suddenly alone, surrounded and with broken equipment. Wisps of inky mist played about the indistinct edges of Midnight's costume, and any who looked upon him and did not feel fear were surely fools.
  14. Midnight II Free Action: Arrange Gadgets: Razor Throwing Disks Damage 15 (Extra: Area [General, Cone], Flaw: Action [Full]) [15PP] Full Action: Strike Die Ãœbersoldaten and their zip lines. Free Action: Switch to Insubstantial AP so it can be activated as a reaction.
  15. "I think you mean mostly gross," Jill groused, squinting one eye closed a bit as she glanced about the dripping prison with a grimace. "Okay, granted, the logistic involved here are kind of mind-boggling, but seriously: why?" A small twitch in her expression suggested that the complaints were her way of dealing with the less than ideal situation as she kept a sharp eye out around them and periodically glanced back over her shoulder. "Who looks at an underground prison and says, 'You know what this place could really use? A coat of honey!' There isn't a big enough or flat enough 'what' in the world."
  16. "Your steed, huh? The unicorn mentioned me, right?" Jack asked conversationally as he stepped around the armored knight's broad swing and slid behind his opponent's extended guard. "Because I felt like we really made a connection back there, y'know? One impaler to another." A thin, curving scimitar appeared with a sudden flash in his hand even as his arm slashed forward, ripped into being from the very stuff of Windhearth's chill being, glowing faintly blue and shot through with the patterns of snowflakes. The withering assault of blow left the Lady's minion stumbling backward, trying to regain his balance and momentum.
  17. Jack of all Blades Move Action: Auto-DC 26 Taunt vs. Knight 1 Standard Action: Energy Blade Flurry. (1d20+20=26) Yow. Well, lemme know if that works or not.
  18. Wail nodded magnanimously. "Of course. I should see about retrieving the shirt I lost on the way over anyway," the older hero noted, indicating the distinctive 'W' insignia running across the torso of his uniform with one hand. Shortly after, LaMarr sat on the patio of one of the coffee shops that seemed to have, from his perspective, cropped up on every street corner almost overnight, looking as inconspicuous as a heavily built man well over six feet tall could reasonably be, once again wearing his shirt buttoned over his uniform, his sunglasses hanging out of his pocket.
  19. "Ha! What can I say, some of us don't feel the need to compensate," Jack laughed in his rich, melodic baritone as he let the electricity dissipate harmlessly into the air once Thrude had had a chance to get a good look at it. "I'm a precision fighter. I get in very, very close, make a thorough examination and hit the right spot over and over." He exchanged an innocent look with Willow while she was speaking with Fulcrum, his beatific expression only breaking into a broad grin when Grim raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Well hey, I-- what d'you mean it's about time?" he balked, crossing his arms across his chest. Before he could argue the point, the unlikely couple of technical fae and interdimensional cowboy dropped their news. Jack gaped for a moment, taken legitimately off-guard for the first time that afternoon. "I... what?" He turned to Archeville with a quizzical look. "Did you know about this?"
  20. Jill pulled a bit of a face as the group walked through the first levels, moving to stand a little behind Freedom Angel's wings as she did up the zipper of her crimson jacket a little self-consciously. The young woman didn't have quite the reckless bravado of her elder sibling, but her defensive powers had allowed her to take risks and place herself in situations that normally would have been far too dangerous. Without them, she was forcibly reminded of her own vulnerability, but the option of staying above ground never entered her mind. I was patching Erik up long before I had any powers; if anybody gets hurt, they're going to need a medic on hand.
  21. Initiative. (1d20+3=19)
  22. Wail paused for a beat, slowly realizing that he was being confronted with a problem which, admittedly, had been not uncommon in his younger years. "Ah. This would be the part where I casually work into the conversation that I'm fifty-six. And a widower. And gay." The broad-shouldered man's tone was gentle with a hint of amusement that suggested that he was flattered and that the situation was more amusing than any faux pas. "C'mon, I'll buy you a coffee to make it up to you."
  23. Trevor made a brief sound that might have been interpreted as a dark note of humourless agreement at the Midnight of Erde's observation, watching the going-ons outside the vehicle with narrowed eyes behind the ruby lenses of his mask. The young man opened his mouth more than once during the ride to apologize, to explain how much he wished they could stay and help, but it would have been wasted words. Even more so than his grandfather back home, this Midnight was a solider, and he had already been told the stakes Young Freedom was fighting for. He wouldn't let the odds or his own concerns stop him from making the tough decisions and doing the right thing, and neither would Trevor.
  24. "Oh, you smoothie," Jill grinned as she responded to the light kiss with an exaggerated purr pitched low enough that it didn't carry past her girlfriend. The sienna toned young woman stretched out on the blanket with one hand under her head and one knee bent slightly upward, soaking up sun and the heat of the sand below. She reopened one eye as Dragonfly mused on the potential virtues of summer, glad to see the shorter girl enjoying herself, even if it was partly because of her deprived history.
  25. Trevor worked in silence along side the Midnight or Erde, their shared competency and skill at reading familiar body language making spoken words unnecessary. It didn't take the astute youth much effort to realize the implications of their local ally's brief explanation. This was a Midnight preparing for his last stand, a final fight to do what little good he could in an ongoing war he could no longer win. It was the very soul of undeterrable courage and moral fiber that his grandfather had always held to, that had inspired Trevor himself, and it burned like fire that he couldn't stand with him in that hour. Faint wisps of midnight mist rose from the quiet young man's face, almost invisible in the murky cavern as he blinked them away. "Good car," he noted finally.
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