Gizmo

HAND WAAAVE! Yeah, okay.

Jack of all Blades pulled an annoyed face as he easily vaulted over the deadly bolts of mystic force hurled in his direction. "Alright, bored with this," he drawled, touching back down to the floor lightly and kicking off to launch himself at the first of the robed mages. His sparkling sword of electricity came down in a brutal overhand strike, passing though into his opponent's body from one shoulder with a slight smell of sizzling cloth and flesh. Shifting his weight to redirect his momentum, the swashbuckler brought the lighting blade across in a perpendicular slash which left the shocked sorcerer at the hip and immediately found a new place to bury itself in his colleague. As Jack took a step back, pulling his rapier back into a ready position, the pair collapsed atop each other without so much as a grunt, faint wisps of smoke rising from their heavy vestments.

Looking up from the pile of parts to give Chris a flat look, he straightened and gave Liz a courteous nod. "Seems overkill," he remarked. "Engine wouldn't use a fraction of the power. On-board weaponry?" Simple traction and framework limited the speed a vehicle could effectively reach without tearing itself - and likely it's rider - apart. Hypothetically, putting a fission-fusion reactor in a bike would be akin to crushing an ant by knocking the moon out of orbit, but the gear Trevor had seen Chris put into action suggested a craftier mind than that behind their design.

Groovy, he'll go after the other mage. Energy Blade Power Attack 5. (1d20+13=29) Same deal, DC 21 Drain Toughness, DC 28 Toughness Save.

Sorry, yes, on the bruised guy he was already fighting, and it's a DC 21 Drain Toughness followed by a DC 28 Toughness Save. So the guy's at least staggered and stunned, but if you could roll the Fort Save, we'll see if he actually gets knocked out! If so, I guess a Takedown Attack may be in order?

1d20+10=20 Eh. Lemme know how that goes, I guess.

Tch, yeah, I guess a giant radio tower would rank pretty high! Well with an Area effect he's limited to +12 anyway; there's not any way to apply Sneak Attack here, is there? I think he should have the 1 HP from Luck available, just in case. Think Havok using the old midnight mist gun tech for nefarious use could net him an activation of his Legacy complication?

Man, this is a tough one; I'm assuming Phalanx and Gos can keep the bad guys occupied, so M2's gotta come up with a Gadget that'll stop keep Havok from getting anyone hurt until Dok A can disable the machine entirely. Teamwork! How does this sound: Nullify Communication 10 (Extra: Area [50' radius, Burst, Attached] Duration [sustained], Flaw: Action [Full Action], Limited [Radio Only], Range [Touch]) [10PP] I'm assuming here that if the antennae itself is Nullified, that'll keep the signal from reaching the rest of the city, right?

"Later," Trevor agreed, clearing his throat lightly in order to do so. Rather than alleviating the tension there, however, as Erin paused momentarily in the doorway, the young man found his voice further impaired by a sudden thickness. A beat after she left the garage, he allowed himself to fall down to the concrete floor, placing his hands behind his head as he breathed out a long stream of roiling black mist in an upward geyser. Letting the coolness of the hard surface seep through his thin shirt as the gas dissipated above him, he closed one eye contemplatively. It was going to be a long day until dinner.

As Erin backed away from the light brush of lips, Trevor blinked slowly in a moment of dawning surprise which gradually gave way to what could only be considered a grin on the usually stoic youth's visage. "I'd like that," he replied, resting on hand lightly on her cheek before leaning forward to return the gesture, lingering a touch longer than she had but still keeping the contact brief and non threatening. Up close the youth had a faint scent of hickory charcoal and a slight warmth from the faith colour which unfortunately displayed prominently against his pale skin.

"You're worth waiting for," Trevor assured her softly, offering his hand to her, palm upward and finger loosely open. "Whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'll be here." Tilting his head to one side slightly, he gave Erin a slight, encouraging smile. For a long moment he simply sat silently next to her, letting his rufescent eyes close with a slow exhalation, quietly content.

Ah! Sorry, lost track their for a bit during the All Dok All The Time portion there! Lemme see... If Havok is using pheromones, would that make the mind control sense dependent?

Trevor slid slightly to one side to crouch closer to Erin. "Well, you know how I feel," he reminded her, gently nudging her shoulder with his own. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and began, "Listen, I wanted to say... for the record, that is... I know we've been taking things slow. You've got things, I've got things, so that works, but I didn't want you to think I didn't-- not that there's some sort of schedule, I just mean..." The dark haired young man winced. "I'm articulating this poorly."

Alright, nothing fancy, Jack Feints as a move action (DC33) then Energy Blade Power Attack 5. (1d20+13=17) Oh, yuck. Well, let me know if that hits.

Fine by me, Trevor thought to himself as he declined the proffered beverage with a slight shake of his head. The stoic youth didn't care to dwell on Lucas' warped reality any more than was necessary. For one thing, he truly loathed the revised codename Mark's father had bestowed upon him. "I don't make evil robot jokes," he chided absently in a dryly wry tone, not even looking at Chris as he continued to examine the cavern through his tinted lenses, taking mental notes. Stepping into the workshop behind his lizard-themed classmate, he gravitated immediately to one of the piles of automotive parts and began picking through, a surprisingly expressive look of interest passing over his face as he waited for Liz to finish what she was doing.

"Should have told me himself," Trevor remarked with a faint frown. "Not fair to put you in that position." Admittedly, he and James weren't what he'd call close, but they'd fought side by side. Awkward though the subject may have been, felt a vague pang of annoyance that the Prophet scion had spent a considerable amount of time smiling in his face while letting his true feeling fester. It was the sort of needless angst and drama the lanky youth found both frustrating and incomprehensible. He let out a long breath, clearing his mind. "What are you going to do?"

A flat series of grating notes escaped from the black clad figure partially obscured by wisps of mist rising from his form; it took the sorceress a moment to realize that Midnight was chuckling coldly. "Ask yourself," he intoned in a voice just loud enough that Medea could strain to hear him, "who does one such as I bargain with to regain his youth and renew his vengeful war?" Leaning forward, his voice dropped even lower, the terrible whisper of air escaping dead lungs. "Out of your league, hag."

There was a pause as Trevor blinked several times, his eyebrows lifting upward. "Huh. Really should have picked up on that," he mused aloud finally, his tone surprisingly calm. "Explains a lot, actually." As the initial information settled in his mind, the stoic youth had a moment to do some brief calculations. "So that was... a while ago, then," he observed carefully, keeping his tone mild.

Trevor smiled softly. "You know me; sucker for colour coordination." Rubbing the back of his neck, his mouth pulled back into a hint of a wince as he looked to one side. "Lucas' version of you was... yeah." It seemed wise to keep the description that popped into his head - like Erin and Mark had had a daughter and let a television playing the retro channel raise her - to himself. "Got the impression she was letting 'the prince' and Kid Midnight fight over her; Rick didn't strike me as the type who believes men and women can 'just be friends'. Persephone's probably just being overprotective." He shrugged. "Real enough to get jealous is pretty real, computer or not. Hmm... could probably get Wilder or Karakuri to help build a physical body for her..." Erin could practically see the gears turning in his head as he reflexively began mentally drawing up designs.

Trevor strode slowly about the massive room, taking note of the extensive equipment. Though he was impressed by the electronic monitoring system, his predilections as a mechanical engineer showed in his greater fascination with the structural design of the cavern. His eyebrows rose slightly from behind the tinted oval lenses of his glasses at the cacophony coming from the workshop below, the sound of tools against metal a veritable siren's call. Stepping away from the catwalk he was examining, he softly asked Chris, "She doesn't remember Lucas'... outburst, correct?" He'd only briefly met the altered version of his classmate's significant other in the grieving father's warped reality, but if Liz recalled encountering 'Kid Midnight', the potential for awkwardness was exponentially more worrying.

Settling into the same seat in the control room overlooking the Wreck Room that Colt had only recently vacated, Jack propped his booted feet up onto one of the consoles and leaned back, making sure he could still observe the scene below. Of all the Interceptors, the gunslinger was the one who most shared the fencer's dedication to tireless practice, but their respective styles differed so completely that it had always been tough for them to relate on that level. Where Jack was in constant movement, both offensively and defensively, Colt could go an entire fight without moving from one spot. The swashbuckler was more than a little curious to see how the cowboy approached the group training session.

Trevor murmured noncommittally then hesitated for a moment before taking the sunglasses off again and tucking them back into his pocket. "That's the idea, yeah. Riding the Cycle out of uniform was always pushing it; should help." He rand a hand along the sleet surface of the bike until his fingers sat next to Erin's. "Fit in some concealed compartments for storage and tweaked her engine for a little more speed." He turned his head from the vehicle to look at the auburn haired girl next to him with a faint smile. "Not exactly an interdimensional flying saucer, but still."

"Hmm? Oh, good," he replied, tossing the rag into the open lid of his tool box. "Remote piloting should be up and running now, and the chameleon circuit..." Retrieving a narrow rectangle of matte black carbon fiber, he thumbed a button. Abruptly the shadowy, light absorbing panels of the Night Cycle seemed to ripple, shifting to a brilliant metallic blue. "Morphic molecule paint," Trevor explained. "Running a mild electrical charge through it to shift between different colours." That thought triggered a sudden recollection, and the dark haired youth hastily pulled out the sunglasses hanging from his pants pocket and placed them over his mutated eyes. "Sorry. Forgot," he apologized, mild embarrassment showing through his stoic expression.

Despite the summer heat, the legs sticking out from under Trevor's motorcycle were clad in a faded pair of well worn jeans. Nearby a pale button down shirt hung from the corner of the stall, and when the lanky teen set down his tools and slid out from under the vehicle, his athletic frame was attired in a thin white tank top, splattered lightly with oil. Luminous red irises set in fields of glossy black seemed to light up as he saw Erin and cast about for a rag to wipe his hands on. "For you?" he asked rhetorically, the shadow of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Never."

The swordsman rocked back of his feet in response to Colt's shove, grinning. "Man, you know I'd just spin it and go all rakish and rugged." He let out a short laugh when the gunslinger outlined his lesson plan. "The guy with no powers is gonna teach the class on powers? Irony, thy name is cowboy. Point, though; finesse and control is the obvious next step. Trade control room duties, then? I run the Wreck Room while you're on the floor?"