Gizmo
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Trevor grunted in subdued consent as his next question was headed off. His grandfather had been able to conceal the creation of the Manor under their family estate by taking advantage of existing subterranean caves and simultaneously renovating the house itself, so it was certainly doable. Removing his beaten fedora briefly, his stowed his featureless black mask in a pocket of his unfastened jacket. The shadowy outfit still might have stood out on the street, but it could easily pass for civilian garb. Placing the hat back atop his dark hair, the young man took rapid inventory of his appearance before producing a pair of sunglasses with oval lenses and putting them on to conceal his ominously discoloured eyes, a precaution he was still getting used to. The transformation complete, he made a small gesture inviting Chris to lead the way.
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Jack snorted ruefully as he worked his jaw back and forth with one hand. "No kidding," he agreed, "though I'm kinda hoping they got that 'target his face' thing outta their systems. Ow." Rolling his shoulders and shaking off the developing bruises, he moved to lean against the wall opposite the door to the Wreck Room. "Well, next session's yours. Anything in mind?"
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Midnight didn't spare more than a glance for Superior nor the impossible presence which followed him out of the massive machine. His more overtly powerful classmates could handle the anachronistic thug; he'd make sure they weren't distracted. Using the spectacle of the clashing paragons as a cover, the black clad youth all but disappeared from view, reappearing without warning as he drove a brutal blow from an escrima stick into Medea's sternum, knocking the wind out of the sorceress' lungs. In the same fluid motion, he flooded the area with inky black mist, leaving the Crime Leaguers with a final sight of ominously glowing red eyes set into a featureless visage before they plunged into darkness.
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Sorry about the wait! Here we go! Midnight II Move Action: Auto 29 Stealth w/ Skill Mastery and HiPS on the way over to Medea. Free Action: Arrange Gadgets. Stun 4 (Flaw: Daze, Power Feat: Mighty) [5PP] Standard Action: Stun, Power Attack 3. (1d20+12=20) Free Action: Midnight Mist. That should be a DC 10 + 4 + 3 Mighty + 2 Sneak Attack + 3 Power Attack = 22 Fort Save.
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Taking Erin's hand in his own, Trevor gave it a light squeeze, a flicker of a grin passing over his face. "Can't think of anywhere I'd rather be," he assured her softly, head tilting down slightly. Pushing the brim of his fedora up momentarily with his free hand, the laconic young man glanced over the lenses of his sunglasses with luminous red irises at the sun rising higher into the sky. It was still uncomfortable, but he felt confident that his eyes simply needed a little time to adjust as he stepped out into the light.
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Once they'd exited to the hallway, Jack turned to Colt, folding his arms. "So. What do you think?" the fencer asked seriously. "They did well, better than I was expecting, especially Eli, but three on one against an opponent who's holding back..." Running a hand through his hair, he let out a long breath. "Dunno, maybe I'm just being paranoid about the no-powers thing, but..." Concern creased the swashbuckler's forehead.
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Between the top of his sunglasses' oval lenses and the brim of his beaten fedora, Trevor's eyebrows tilted into a reproachful look as he glanced toward the girls. They're talking... about... the weather. The lanky youth wasn't overly prone to self pity, but he was beginning to suspect the cosmos had it out for him. On the other hand, looking at Mark and Mike's respective lives, maybe there was something to be said about their approach after all. Falling into step next to Erin, he tilted his head subtly and, still looking straight ahead, pitched his tone so as not to carry. "Sorry about this."
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Jack gave the his female teammates a wan smirk. "If you ladies are up for it, by all means," he agreed, gesturing to the Wreck Room with a sweeping gesture. "I, on the other hand, promised my sister that I'd take blunt force trauma to the head a little more seriously." The swordsman shrugged unconcernedly and rapped on the side of his skull. "Hermanita apparently thinks I've got something up there I should be careful with, so." Tucking his thumbs into the waist of his pants, he headed for the door, nonchalantly asking, "Bill, you got a sec?"
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Well, unless anyone's dying to see the Espadases in their swimwear...
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Are we in initiative?
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Wow, okay, the bee cannot beat that. You've got your pick of grapple effects.
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Catching the hat out of the air with a practiced grace of movement, Trevor allowed the corner of his mouth to turn upward subtly. --Heh. Je vous dois, mon diminutif amie,-- he mentally responded to Eve's sardonic ultimatum. Aloud, he replied with a rueful, "I appear to be outvoted. Food would probably be a good idea, anyway." Replacing his fedora on his head, he adjusted the brim to sit just over his sunglasses so that his newly distinctive eye colouring wouldn't be apparent to anything less than close scrutiny.
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Trevor blinked twice behind his red goggles as re realized Ace had spotted him. Hurm. Guess he really is that good, the teenager admitted inwardly. Stepping lightly from the perch he was crouching upon, the black clad youth dropped silently to the floor, landing lightly next to the immortal adventurer. Rising, he gave Ace a curt nod in greeting, the gravelly timbre of his filtered voice flatly noting, "Danger."
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"No," Trevor lied, accepting the sunglasses and replacing them on his face immediately. His earlier discomfort made more sense now that he realized what had happened to his eyes; there was a reason he didn't wear his mask's goggles in direct sunlight. Guess I won't need to wear them at all, now. Reluctant to let Erin look directly at him even with the sunglasses, the lean youth shifted to turn to Mark. "That's probably a good idea." In truth, he was more inclined to make his own assessments back at the Manor, but the whole point of coming to Claremont had been to get help with just such a development. 'Get used to them.' Right. Trevor did his best to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind taunting, It's happening again... You don't have powers, you're just a freak.
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"Lenses in my mask are chemically treated to respond to broader spectrum. See through the mist," Trevor elaborated tonelessly, his back still to the rest of the room, and his body language carefully composed. Finally turning back to the others, he gazed flatly at his classmates with discoloured orbs. "Eyes do the same now. Secondary mutation..." he mused distractedly, "Continuing transformation?" Speaking largely to himself, the dark haired youth seemed completely unperturbed by the revelation except for the unconscious clenching and unclenching of his right hand.
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The massive bee Jack had punctured rolled backward in annoyance, trying to shake the swordsman loose as its six gargantuan legs awkwardly attempted to knock him aside. Only an iron grip on his electrical rapier's hilt kept his from plummeting to the ground. One of its compatriots buzzed over, taking a mighty swat at the tiny human plaguing its fellow bee. Working from a better angle, it managed to clip Jack, pummeling him with the sheer weight of its limb. The final bee passed purposefully by the other two to focus on where Wander still stood on the nearby rooftop. Drawing back, the insect seemed to inhale before leaning forward in the air and spewing forth a torrent of bright orange flame that washed over the top several floors of the building.
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Giant Dragon Bee #1 Gonna try to grapple this dude stabbin' it! Initiate Grapple. (1d20+14=25) Yeesh, that's uncomfortably close. Giant Dragon Bee #2 Attacking Wander with fire breath! I'm going to call this Damage 12 (Fire Breath, Extra: Area [Cone]) [24PP], which should replace the bees' Drain. That means DC 22 Reflex save, DC 27 Toughness save, yeah? Giant Dragon Bee #3 Swatting at Jack. All-Out Attack 5. (1d20+19=28) Oh noes! That's DC 29! Toughness Save vs. DC29. (1d20+8=28) Aw yeah, just a bruise. Wander is up after she saves against the fire breath.
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Gadgets! Immunity 10 (mind control, Flaw: Limited) [5PP]
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Stepping back a step, Trevor pushed away his awkward embarrassment with the same ease he'd bottled his emotions while using the sonic device, and placed his hands on Erin's shoulders. "Look at me. Wasn't your fault," he insisted in a low, calm voice. "Medea chose you because you're the strongest, the one she couldn't hope to fight fairly." The lean youth grimaced, brow furrowing as he muttered largely to himself, "Knew we were dealing with the Crime League, should have seen it coming." Releasing one of her shoulders, he retrieved a long, thin strip of silvery foil from a compartment in his belt. "Here. Fit it under your headband, the circuitry monitors the frequencies used for mind control and the governor chips are shaped into basic warding runes to work against arcane effects." Pausing, he added, "It's... not actually tinfoil."
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"Get over it," Midnight suggested flatly, sprinting off and retrieving the Night Cycle from its place on the lawn. Righting the vehicle and starting it's whisper-soft engine, he gestured brusquely for Dead Head to get on. "Might need your... talents," he noted, swapping his beaten fedora for his matte black helmet. "More dead bodies before the night is through."
