Gizmo

Lifting her chin from her hand, Jill tilted her head slightly to one side and gave Eve a quizzical look, one eyebrow retreating into her unruly bangs. "World Championships? For what?" There was a note of genuine interest in the question, but to the young telepath's perceptions the other girl's surface thoughts attained a notable focus, a surprising change from her earlier uncertainty and airy nonchalance. Having established that Eve's poor spirits were due to something specific rather than a general malaise, strong streaks of protectiveness and stubborn determination were reflexively coming to the fore.

Crouched against the side of the window, Midnight peered in at the sleeping GBN employees. The odd positioning of the slumbering civilians striking him immediately, he retrieved a rectangular device from his belt and proceeded to run a full spectrum scan of the vicinity. As he suspected, strange signals in the same wavelengths as human synaptic patterns were bathing the entire building. Judging by their nature, they were of artificial origin, and emanating from the side of the building facing the park. Slipping the scanner away, he gravely activated the mental shielding built into his mask for such an occasion, a faint hum registering. Flexing his fingers and toes in a specific manner, he extended short barbs from the palms of his gloves and the soles of his boots, using them to crawl swiftly along the wall in that direction.

Oh uh! Midnight will rearrange his Gadgets and go take a look see. Immunity 10 (All Mental Effects) [10PP] Super Movement 2 (Wall-Crawling 2) [4PP]

Gadgets! Super-Senses 2 (Auditory [Analytical, Extended]) (2PP) Super-Senses 4 (Mental [Acute, Analytical, Extended, Ranged]) (4PP) Super-Senses 3 (Olfactory [Acute, Analytical, Extended]) (3PP) Super-Senses 3 (Tactile [Analytical, Extended, Ranged]) (3PP) Super-Senses 2 (Visual [Analytical, Extended]) (2PP) Midnight will do a quick scan using SCIENCE to see if he can figure out what's up with nap time. Notice Check. (1d20+10=21)

"Dios," Jill drawled, drawing out the syllables. Resting her chin in the space between an extended thumb and forefinger, she gave the diminutive acrobat a wry look. "I've still got some black makeup left over from my goth phase if you want it." The taller girl shrugged with her free hand. "Cheer up, Stretch, and learn to take a compliment. See? My bedside is totally mannered."

"Nah, I meant the old guy from Sabrina," Jill drawled in a sarcastic deadpan, resting one hand on her hip and shifting her weight to that leg. "I mean, what's he doing in an action movie, right?" Spreading her arms wide enough that the overlapping bangle bracelets on her wrist clattered as they settled back into place, the girl caused a wave of pale blue energy to lift from her and form a similar energy construct across from Corbin's, this simulated robot considerably more translucent and lacking any fine detail. "Never get to fight robots," she groused, controlling the image's movements with a wave of her hand.

"Ha!" Jill laughed sharply, returning Eve's grin. "Nice. I guess you trade reaching the top shelf for being able to pull off 'cute'. I'm good, thanks," she declined the proffered bottle with an offhanded wave. "I... don't really know if the healing's my real thing, honestly. My abilities were latent until I accidentally got one of these mystic power ups, and I sorta got the wrong one anyway." The teenage girl closed one eye in a slight wince and rubbed the back of her neck. "The last guy who had it was super lucky, but with the boost he could sorta curse people, too. Dunno if I was a healer and now I can make people sick too, or the other way around."

By the time Fleur and Gabriel had turned their attention from Fusion to Midnight, the black clad hero was nowhere to be found, having heard enough and slipped away in the shadows. The proposed feint was tactically sound, a wise use of their respective abilities, but the young vigilante was unwilling to stand around discussing it ad nauseum. Whether or not the otherworldly air Fusion put forth was genuine or not, he recognized all too human emotions in her reaction. She was talking the entire situation personally and Otaku could be counted upon to provike her further given the chance. Better to slip in while the obnoxious roboticist was distracted and resolve the situation himself, if possible. Grappling up a few stories, he moved silently along a ledge, looking for a window through which to enter inconspicuously.

Well, this seems like the perfect time for the traditional 'turn around and he's already vanished' exit courtesy of Hide in Plain Sight! Midnight hits 29 on Stealth with Skill Mastery, so if anyone wants to give it a shot, that's the DC to beat.

Jill responded to Corbin's reproachful head shaking and eye rolling by shutting one eyelid in an exaggerated wink and pointing both index fingers at him with her thumbs upward. "You're quick, little buddy; I can tell I'm going to have to bring my A game with you." A short, flat breath blew a few unruly bangs off of her forehead as the coltish teen crossed her arms. "And of course you don't like Temple. Nobody likes Temple, the only thing it's got going for it is it's not the new one, with whatshisface, the guy from the -- sorry, did you say robots?" she asked abruptly switching gears mid-sentence and glancing over to Erin for confirmation.

There was a moment's pause as Midnight silently regarded Mark, nonplussed. "You made my gas mask... permeable." The sentence was a simple statement, carefully neutral and enunciated with calm precision. After another pause, he reached to his neck and unfastened the base of his mask, pulling the bottom half on it upward to rest over the bridge of his nose. "Appreciate the gesture, but sometimes simple works." While he made it a point to completely conceal his identity while in uniform, the fact remained that he was still covering core of his face than most heroes ever did, and there was no one in the room in the room even peripherally aware of Trevor Hunter's existence who wasn't already privy to his true identity. Picking up a steaming cup in one hand, the black clad vigilante paused for a moment to inhale deeply before sipping.

Once she was satisfied that Erin has fully recovered, Jill glanced at Corbin then back to the other girl. "He says 'nifty' unironically and offers to help with the paperwork? What boyscout camp did you kidnap him from?" Turning her full attention to the towering young man, she extended her hand, which had stopped glowing. "Sorry, Shortround, I usually wait for a proper introduction before giving somebody a hard time. Jill Pique. And it's not exactly 'just like that', but you've got the idea, yeah."

"I possess the astounding genetic quirk," Jill explained in an melodramatic tone of mock seriousness, "of being slightly above average height for my particular demographic. And so I took to the shadowed streets as Wears Flats To Events With Dancing Girl!" Raising a fist in front of her, the coltish teen nodded decisively. "And the criminal element quaked with fear." Leaning back in her seat, she unclenched the fist and waved her hand vaguely. "I guess I've got magic healing powers, force fields and the ability to make people puke all over themselves with a touch, too, but whatever."

Jack of all Blades (34) [interceptors] Zombie Powder is a Helluva Drug (2) Welcome to The Interceptors, Jill O'Cure (3) Red Rover (14) Takes A Thief (11) No Place Like Home (2) The Hypotenuse is Equal to the Sum (2) November Vignette Midnight II (67) Cry Havok! (1) Meet The Roommate (3) ... but the Exchange Rates are Murder! (4) Hunter in the Forest (3) Kill A Man (28) House on the Hill (25) White Saturday (5) November Vignette NPC (34/2 = 17) Jill O'Cure Flesh and Bone (8) No Man's Land (5) This Party's Better Than it Seems (10) All Your Bank Are Belong To Us (6) VINCE Takes a Thief (2) Blaise O'Glory Eighty-Eight Miles Per Hour (3)

Smoothly dismounting from the Night Cycle, Midnight strode purposefully to the impromptu gathering around the fallen priestly hero, offering the florakinetic attending the Gabriel a curt but respectful nod. "Miss de Joie," the vigilante's voice rumbled in a gravelly baritone through his mask. He turned his attention the the tentacled woman who had so deftly disabled the weakened robot. Even without the robed man calling her by name, it would have been difficult to mistake the distinctive silhouette of the West Coast heroine known as Fusion. Eyes narrowing slightly behind his red lenses, Midnight regarded her in an appraising manned. "First name basis? Met in Japan," he surmised.

Jill responded to the large young man's impassioned reasoning with a terse snort. "It's cute you think I was actually asking permission," she drawled, leaving Erin's embarrassment unremarked upon as she placed the faintly glowing hand on the other girl's cheek and concentrated, frowning slightly. Although she could feasibly repair the damage through clothing, it tended to make things trickier, especially when the durable materials of superhero uniforms were involved. "It'll take like one sec." The extradimensional survivalist felt a soothing coolness where Jill made contact, followed immediately by a wave of liquid warmth that spread outward. Within moments, the aches and pains that had her hunched over had disappeared. Taking a step back out of her classmate's personal space, Jill admired her handiwork. "I really am fantastic to have around."

The young woman known to the student body of Claremont as Jill Pique strode out of the campus library with one arm full of textbooks and the other attempting the cram them into her large messenger bag. Between her studies and 'part time job', her schedule over the past months had been erratic, forcing her to take advantage of the library's late hours to pick up a few books she'd been meaning to get around to. Even distracted as she was, it was hard to miss the pair of figures touching down lightly in the middle of the courtyard, nor did she miss that one of them appeared to be one of her few acquaintances at Claremont. What caught the prospective medical student's attention most, however, was the pained gait of the other girl's stance and the concerned manner of the broad shouldered teen with her. Hurrying over, she reflexive moved to attend to Erin's wounds, one hand swimming with pale blue light that shone more obviously in the dim evening. "One side, Tiny. What happened to you?"

Jack felt the sound of the gunshot in his bones before it registered in his ears, time seeming to slow to a crawl. As the MAVERIC screeched to a stop, his door was flung open even as he leapt over it, greatcoat flaring out behind him. As he sprinted across the street just behind Colt's expert shots, the swordsman reached out with his abilities. The lamppost above their assailant's van exploded in a flash of shattering glass as a bolt of lighting crackled to white hot clarity in his hand, an arcing blade of electricity fueled by rage focused to pin point clarity. The bracers on his target's wrists broke a split second before Jack finished crossing the street to deliver a blow that was a much a brutal haymaker as a sword thrust. Wisps of acrid smoke rising from his equipment, the man Colt had called Blaine crumpled in an ungainly heap. "Not in my neighbourhood!" he roared at the unconscious man, his normally melodic tone raw and harsh. "Not my family! Not with that!" The swashbuckler took a second furious slash at the dropped gun, leaving molten metal in the wake of his energy sword. He stood there for a several moments, breathing heavily as his anger distorted features went lax. Finally, he turned to look at the others. "You alright?" he asked Grim first, to confirm he fae nature had saved her. That done, he gave Colt a look that struggled to be apologetic amidst conflicting emotions. Some archaic part of him insisted that it had been the cowboy's place to extract retribution on the diminutive shapeshifter's behalf, but the fencer was haunted by memories of ambulance sirens and shouting paramedics. "Sorry. Next one's yours. Sorta... touched a nerve there." Rubbing his eyes through his bandanna mask, Jack shook his head to clear it. "Besides, we're in a rush. Still on the clock to figure this zombie thing out."

With a wry shrug, Jack grinned. "Hey, when am I not dashing?" As the immortal cat burglar straightened the box tie, he boldly slipped a hand around her waist to sit on the small of her back. "In the interests of honestly, I should probably admit that I already knew how to tie a tie," the swashbuckler explained with a broad, roguish smirk. Encouraging Bombshell was almost certainly a bad idea, but if Jack avoided bad decisions, he'd never get anything done.

Taking his seat, Midnight remained impassive as the awe inspiring selection of dishes were laid out before them, eliciting a few unnerved glances from the local staff and dignitaries. When trays of ornate pots along with small bowls of flavourings and delicate cups were brought out, however, he visibly straightened in his seat to take notice. Dakanan coffee was something of a grail among connoisseurs; the solitary nation's export laws made it prohibitively expensive to procure in other parts of the world and never with the expediency required for truly fresh results. As one of the trays was set nearby, conflict rose in his heart. "...can't drink coffee with my mask on," he said quietly, resting his hands under his nose.

Well, at the risk of stepping on Colt's toes, Jack's going to try to wrap this encounter up quickly so that they can get back to what they were doing! Jack of all Blades Move Action: Get out of the MAVERIC to Whatshisface. Standard Action: Energy Sword Power Attack 5. (1d20+15=21) Ew. I'm going to assume that misses, so... Energy Sword Power Attack 5 reroll. (1d20.minroll(11)+15=27) That's be a DC 21 Fort Save for the Drain Toughness and a DC 29 Toughness Save. Lemme know if he needs to surge.

Jack shrugged, pushing his arm though a white sleeve as he donned his own disguise. "I just needed the money," he clarified wryly as he deftly buttoned the front of the shirt. "Jackie B's got biiills..." Adjusting the fastened cuffs over his wrists, the swordsman turned away from Bombshell to finish tucking it into his pants, then retrieved a thing black tie. Tossing it around his shoulders, he held each end for a moment, looking nonplussed. "...uh. Hrm."

Enjoy describing new costumes? Who, me? For the sake of argument, Jack's referring to not one but two threads he's been in with a similar bent. Neither of those actually finished, though, so, y'know. Boo.

Taking in the scene in the clearing at a glance, Jack of all Blades sat up on his bed roll and sighed, placing a hand over his eyes. "Not again..." The swashbuckler paused as he withdrew his hand, blinking with his one uncovered eye. "Huh. Eye patch." He did indeed have a black leather cover over one eye, a thin cord looping around and under his cropped, dusty brown hair. His piratical, royal blue greatcoat lay nearby while the rest of his outfit consisted of a loose black shirt with a deeply cut neck crisscrossed with string and fitted pants of a similarly dark hue secured with a broad belt and tucked into tall boots folded over into cuffs. With his customary stubble intact, it hadn't taken much to make him the very picture of an outlaw swordsman. Nearby, his sister had not been so fortunate, looking her attire over with a flat, "What." Jill O'Cure found herself adorned in a spun wool apron atop a deep red skirt that reached down to her feet, with a crimson corset over a billowing black blouse which look suspiciously like it had been borrowed from her elder sibling's new wardrobe. A pale grey linen head completed the uniform, managing to keep her unruly hair out of her face for once. "I do not do dresses, I do not do camping and I do not do camping in dresses because that is stupid." Jack shrugged as he stood and donned his high collared coat, rolling his shoulders to drop the sleeves into place. "We do some sort of weird, fairy tale dress-up thing like once every six months or so," he explained to the disgruntled teen. "Dunno. I mostly blame Lynn." Waving his hand in front of him, he mentally tugged at the crackling campfire, satisfying himself that his powers were still functioning properly. With a frown, he cocked his head slightly. "Did anybody hear something?"

"Our strengths being kicking butt and taking names?" Jack inquired with a smirk as he moved across the storeroom to retrieve a uniform for himself. Having been caught largely out of costume, he secreted his bandanna mask and wig back away into his coat pockets and tugged his shirt off over his head. The deeply tanned torso bore the lean musculature of man literally bred for agility and strength then trained to Olympic qualifications. An assortment of diverse scars somewhat marred the effect, however, pale testaments the steep learning curve of the vigilante's profession. Among the marks Talya noticed the faint remnants of a stab wound near his left hip, the subtle discolouration of a healed burn between his shoulder blades and the distinctive circular mark of bullet wound just under the right side of his collarbone, a memento of the Crime League's attempt to hold the Liberty Dome hostage.