Gizmo

"Starting to really regret that particular turn of phrase," Jill grumbled, folding her arms sullenly. "Look, for a while, before I switched schools, I got a lot of flak for not exactly being a feature on the party circuit, y'know? Had other things going on, but people can be jerks and a couple racy comebacks from the 'alternative' girl shuts the average meat-for-brains up pretty quickly. Dunno, guess it got to be a habit." Tapping the tips of her index fingers together uncertainly, the teenager bit her bottom lip. "Nothing I can't handle. It's just maybe been flaring up a bit around certain 'people I meet', lately."

"The corset line was a little skanky," Jill insisted dryly, rubbing the back of her neck. "You're right, though. I'm making this a thing when it wasn't a thing. Wasn't trying to embarrass you, too. This is just becoming sort of a pattern, and..." Shaking her head slightly, the taller girl mentally finished, raising certain questions. Regardless, she wasn't about to let the visit derail over her unresolved baggage. "Right about it being fun, too," she added with reluctant grin. "So."

--Hard to miss the resemblance,-- Jill noted, realizing with a sardonic snort that she was unconsciously tilting her head to one side every time she sent a thought Eve's way. --Nice your brother's nearby, you guys look close. You get to see your sister much?-- Having older siblings certainly gave the new acquaintances some added common ground, and the medic was curious to hear more about the Martel clan in general.

"What? No! C'mon. No," Jill responded immediately, straightening to her full height holding her hands out in protest. "It's not that. I mean, it's not you, anything you did. It's just, in that context... I've basically been hardcore flirting with you for like an hour and a half, which is kinda less 'haha, witty banter' and more 'so, sheeeee's a little skanky'." Jill's mouth stretched into a wide grimace as she ducked her head down again before throwing her hands in the air in resignation. "Awkward? Don't mind if I do! Anyway. Is that like your powers? You've always known, I mean?"

"There are some unfortunate side effects that particular source of education," Jill grumbled in annoyance as she ran a hand over her face with a sigh. Turning back around she gave Dragonfly an apologetic look, he face still touched by a ruddy though diminished colour. "You didn't say anything weird, I just didn't pick up until now that you... ah, y'know. Were hinged that way. Because apparently? Really not that clever."

"No rush," Jill assured Eve as she looked around the room once the diminutive gymnast had exited. Stepping over to the desk, she picked up the photo frame to take a closer look. "So this is your family, huh?" she called over her shoulder before pausing. --Wait, is having a conversation while you're getting cleaned up weird? ...is a telepathic conversation even weirder?-- Tapping the side of her head she frowned. --Is this thing even on?--

Jill paused, finger poised in mid-chin tap, and blinked slowly. "Oh. Oh! Ohhhhh..." Coughing conspicuously, the medic turned back to this window as she turned a hue that matched her crimson jacket as her head reflexively sunk between her rising shoulder blades. Stupidstupidstupidarrrrrgh... she berated herself inwardly. "Well, yeah, I mean, sewer hobos are really one of symptoms of larger, societal problems, aheh," she managed to ramble at a noticeably increased speed.

Trevor blinked a couple of times as he considered Erin's words. "That's... a really good idea," the lean young man said slowly, sitting up slightly in his seat. "Most of the cars down there never actually got used as Night... whatevers. Could even repaint some, make them less suspicious. No reason for them to be tucked away when nobody can see." Trevor made small, vague gestures as he followed through on the logic, becoming uncharacteristically animated.

Unexpectedly, Jill almost looked like she was considering Dragonfly's offhand suggestion, biting her lower lip for a moment. "Good point. I definitely meet a more... interesting type of person 'on the job'," she admitted instead, resting her chin contemplatively in one palm. "And I plead the fifth regarding how surprised I may or not be," she continued, a broad smirk pulling at her lips. "So... speaking of significant others - and you totally brought it up, so deal with it - is this 'one other person' cute?" One eyebrow raising behind her crimson bandanna mask as an index finger tapped on her chin.

"We have got to get a better press secretary," the fencer drawled, cartwheeling though gunfire as the robots reoriented themselves, placing himself between them so that they accidentally stuck each other with misplaced attacks. "Jack of all Blades, critically acclaimed swasher of buckles and lover of women, pleased to meet you!" he shouted jauntily over the cacophony. "Jill O'Cure, long suffering sidekick who has to put up with that sort of talk all the time," the young woman added, rolling her eyes as she bent the shimmering wall to wrap around the remaining robots, trapping them inside with Jack. "No respect!" her brother bemoaned, apparently not the least bit concerned with the odds against him. "Mind taking care of the losers over by the bank, Mr. Clean?"

"Oof, guilt trip," Trevor noted with a wince that quickly gave way to a small smile. "Well played. Really though, most of the days we really note at home are... well, funerals. Which also makes birthdays sort of... Hnn. Anyway." Frowning for a brief moment, he turned his attention to Erin's question. "May have to get back to you. Already have a lot of things. Sorry, not being very helpful."

Jill let out a short, surprisingly throaty chuckle in spite of herself. "Hawt. And I guess I was asking for that one," she admitted, amused to see her encouragement of sardonic, off-colour wordplay being taken to heart, even as her cheeks darkened all but imperceptibly. "Glad I didn't say 'I do fine'. Anyway, blatant flattery will get you everywhere, but no, a 'significant other' would require an actual social life," she drawled sardonically, placing her own hands in her jacket pockets, mirroring Dragonfly. "This is the longest actual conversation I've had with somebody my own age in forever and I'm wearing a mask. Oy, as a wise lady once said."

Trevor relaxed in the passenger seat, keeping an idle eye on the road as they pulled out of the manor's driveway. He was normally hesitant to allow anyone else to drive, but he trusted Erin to work on the limousine and certainly trusted her to take the wheel. "Want?" he asked, rousing himself from the hypnotic sound of the tuned engine. "Oh. Hadn't given it much thought. Don't usually make much of a deal about birthdays," he shrugged.

The latest volley on high tech attacks struck again, but with a much different sound than they'd made striking the wrecked police car. A brilliant blue wall had appeared between the robbers and Gabriel, soaking up the attacks with a faint crackle of energy. "Easy on the city property, boys. That's your tax dollars at work," called out a young woman's voice, directing the attention of those present to a crimson and black clad figure perched atop a nearby building, hands glowing with obvious power. So distracted, the first of the robot was unprepared as a blade of molten hot flame seared through it's arm, leaving wasted scrap metal to clatter loudly to the ground. "Oh, so now you're making wisecracks?" replied the sword's wielder, a swashbuckling character is a royal blue great coat that fared behind him as he flipped acrobatically back into the air, using the damaged robot as a launching pad. Letting the fiery rapier disappear from his grip, he swung from a street lamp with both hands, an arc of sparking electricity following him as he continued to move and forming a new scintillating weapon. "Did you guys not hear what happens to anybody who tries something in the West End, or are you just that dumb?"

Earth-Prime "Already en route," Midnight's calm, collected voice assured Wander over the secure line. Smoothly twisting the steering wheel in front of him, he sent the dated looking ambulance around a sharp turn, remaining in control even as the tires drifted on the rain slick streets and the storm pounded down on the vehicle. His grandfather had kept the white and red colour scheme when he originally acquired this particular addition to the Midnight Manor's motor pool, deciding that in this case clarity won out over theme, but beneath the paint it was constructed more like an armored car. Trevor's powers didn't particularly lend themselves to his sort of disaster control, but his driving skills and basic medical knowledge made him an excellent choice for transporting the injured in adverse conditions. Pulling up to the levy with a squeal or rubber, he hopped out of the vehicle, rain immediately collecting on the brim of his beaten fedora as he took a brief moment to study the scene in the sky before moving to tend to the civilians. --- Earth-Paragons Elsewhere in the city, panic was setting in as the storm worsened, with nowhere to evacuate to and no answers as to what was really going on. Downtown, a wide eyed man in a disheveled suit lost control of his overpriced vanity car, the tires finding no traction on the wet concrete. Sliding into a wild spin, the struggling broker was helpless to prevent his vehicle from careening toward a bearded man manically waving a sign proclaiming the storm to be divine retribution against super humans. Amidst the whirling colours and motion sickness came the clang of metal striking metal as a matte black motorcycle matched the sportscar's spin and collided with it purposefully, sending it instead into an empty storefront in a shower of glass. While the driver groggily got his bearings, a dark figure ripped the remains of the twisted door from its hinges and hauled him out into the rain and away from the smoking wreck. Lifting the startled man off of his feet, a pair of smoldering red eyes narrowed as they addressed him "You never saw me." Tossing the wet businessman to the sidewalk, Midnight remounted his motorcycle in time to hear Edge's voice crackled over the open frequency. "Fantastic," he grumbled, speeding off toward the City Center.

"Pfft, please," Jill snorted dismissively, waving her right hand vaguely in response to Dragonfly's stern gesture and turning away slightly to look out the wide windows. "Don't need to pull the positive reinforcement thing with me. Not exactly heading up the department of slapping the laws of the universe in the face and making them ask for more, am I?" Looking back over at the inventor, she offered a sardonic smirk. "Which isn't to say I don't make out just fine, naturally."

"'Mets mine men'," Jill imitated in a comically higher register that sounded nothing at all like Dragonfly. The coltish young woman offered her friend a thin, wry smirk, but reflexively hid her left hand behind her back as she let the glowing halo of energy fade away. That particular facet of her powerset was still one she wasn't entirely comfortable with, despite her nonchalant attitude. "Yeah, it's, uh, it's a pretty gross trick. But hey, options, right?"

"Back in the game!" Jill beamed as Dragonfly rebounded. "Also: heeeeey." Crossing her arms, the slim teenager sniffed with exaggerated haughtiness. "It's actually more like overloading the immune system. You know what happens when you convince somebody's body to reject everything in their digestive tract? Bad things, is what." Raising her left hand in front of her, the medic made a fist as a sickly green light faded into being, darker sections floating about the aura like flotsam. "Not one of the powers I really show off to most people."

"No no, see, this is the part where you say something snarky back," Jill corrected Dragonfly quickly, hopping off the edge of the desk and waving her hands in front of herself as though attempting to ward off the other girl's embarrassment. Holding one hand beside her mouth she continued in a loud stage whisper. "I can give people diseases through bodily contact. There's a lot of good material there."

Jill made an amused, half-stifled sound that started at the roof of her mouth, her lips turning up and down as she struggled to contain a laugh. "Well, that does sound satisfying," she drawled as she composed herself, straightening the sides of her crimson jacket before offering the petite inventor an apologetic shrug. "Look, I'm sorry, but if you're gonna lob them over the plate like that..."

Jill visibly winced. "Dios, don't force it!" the taller girl exclaimed, he nose wrinkling under her bandanna mask. "I mean, yeah, it's creepy when Avenger does it, and there's this guy I know from school who kinda talks that way, too, but in a 'I'm too busy to waste time with you' way. But with you it's... well, I like it, anyway!" she declared, crossing her arms as though daring the inventor to argue despite failing to put her position into words. "So pthb. And yeah, hands-on, with the metal and the grease and the sweat and the thrum." Jill gestured dramatically with one hand while remaining balanced on the edge of the desk with the other.

"Birthday? Oh. Hmm, coming up, isn't it?" Trevor blinked slowly as he mentally connected the dots between the current date and that one. "Realize price tag has nothing to do with it," he added as he followed after her back to the limo, making it more of a statement than a question as he listened critically to the engine. Apparently satisfied, he slid into the passenger side seat. "Test drive?" he suggested with a slightly self-satisfied smile.

Looking thoughtful, Jill hopped up to sit on the very edge of Dragonfly's desk, careful not to get too close to any of the half finished projects laid out across it as she balanced herself by holding onto the corner. "Y'know, that's about the closest thing to a complete sentence I've gotten out of you yet," she remarked, letting her head tilt to the left so that her bangs fell across her right eye. "You're kinda more hands-on than a lot of super-smart types, huh?"

"Aw, they're only as solid as he wants 'em to be," Jill assured Dragonfly, leaning away as the shorter girl attacked the empty air experimentally but leaving her arm where it was. "Actually a lot bigger on control than he lets on." At the inventor's musings, the medic grimaced. "Ugh, zombies. My powers do basically zip against them. Force walls work fine, but you can't mess with the immune system on something that's already dead. Least robots aren't so messy."

Jill noticed Dragonfly stiffen momentarily and almost pulled back reflexively herself. Improbably, she found herself wondering what Lynn would do in the same situation and resolved to continue with full enthusiasm. "All one word: stabpunch!" she corrected to begin, pointing upward for emphasis. "First, you find a chump, or a fool if that's what's on hand. Then you stab said chump. Ideally in the face, see? Then you continue forward with the stabbing motion until you've gone so far that Fist A connected to Blade B is inserted into Chump Face C."