Gizmo
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I think Eve and Trevor are going to head off to their own thread, for neatness's sake. Sorus?
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Fly us away, wacky green lizard man!
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While Erin was distracted by the car, Trevor took the opportunity to school the small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd noticed her interest in automobiles and made a point to dig up one of the more striking vehicles from the Midnight Manor's pool, putting considerable effort into getting it back into working condition. It had been no small feat; the car was over half a century old, and even at the time it was built had required a number of custom made parts. Still, for that reaction, it had been worth it. Moving to the passenger side door, he opened it and gestured inside with a small bow.
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Noticing Erin's minor difficulty with her footwear, Trevor shifted his weight subtly to give her the option of supporting herself on their linked arms if need be. The soft spoken teen was careful not to make the gesture too obvious, and continued to look straight ahead as they reached the end of the hallway. "Wouldn't worry," he advised airily, pushing the door open with his free hand. In the driveway to the school sat a spotless black car with a retro aesthetic. Gleaming chrome accented a long hood with a raised center, and gently curving arches sat above whitewall tires. The vehicle was clearly something from another age, but looked as if it had rolled off of the assembly line earlier that day.
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"Would be silly," Trevor agreed lightly as they walked. "Meant we could take the helicopter." He caught himself raising his hand to absently adjust his tie once more and forced it back his side. "Just a charity gala," the dark haired youth explained with a small shrug. "Tonight is... animal rights? Possibly forest preservation. Really just a social event; bigger donation, bigger status. Dinner, couple speeches, mutual back-patting, dancing. Hundred people, maybe two?" Overall he didn't have much use for such events, but it was important for him to make the occasional public appearance and it might as well benefit a good cause.
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Trevor tilted his head to one side slightly, setting his fedora at a rakish angle. "Could always just go over the bridge again," he suggested mildly. He wasn't normally quite so glib, but a combination of high spirits and difficulty concentrating had him foregoing his usual careful consideration in choosing his words. Offering his arm to Erin, he gestured toward the front of the campus with the other. "Off we go, then."
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"Well, I brawl on very nice streets," Trevor deadpanned, his mouth stepping in while his brain continued to scramble back to its normal operating levels. Every once in a while the mature young man was forced to admit at least to himself that he still was a teenager, with all the benefits and complications that implied. Forcing himself not to stare at Erin's dress, he had to compromise by focusing on her carefully applied lipstick, reasoning that since that was where her eyes would be without the heels, he was doing reasonably well. "Had a car brought around," he explained as he finally processed the question. "Normally be chauffeured, but I like to drive myself."
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--Fair enough,-- Trevor sent back, apparently unperturbed by Eve's psychic choler. Still outwardly silent, he raised a pair of fingers lightly to signal to Chris with a brief nod that they'd be taking him up on his offer of a ride. A flick of his wrist sent the last droplets of coffee onto the lawn, and he replaced the collapsible cup in his belt before turning around and offering the sitting telepath a hand up.
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Grim! With pointy ears! Also started resizing everybody subtly to better reflect the characters' actual heights, so Lynn's a little shorter than Ellie, but taller than Taylor, for example. Also, because I can: The House of L Midnight Family! Midnight! Kid Midnight! Misty! Duke the Night Hound!
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Trevor readjusted his wine red necktie self-consciously as he walked down the dormitory hallway. The silk draped over a cream coloured shirt bracketed by a vest of a warm grey, adding texture to a black suit with a faint pinstripe. Pausing midstep, he reassessed the position of the tie's knot with one hand, a faint frown passing over his face as he hurriedly reversed his last minute change. Formal wear usually gave him no trouble, but that evening he found himself plagued by an unfamiliar need to second guess himself. Fortunately Frank had performed to his usual high standards; the red of the tie played well off the pale teen's complexion while the cut of the suit sat well on his lanky form, giving him a lithe profile, accentuating his height. Trevor supposed he should be grateful the portly tailor had insisted against an all-black ensemble, though they had compromised with the inclusion of the young man's beaten fedora. Despite its wear, the hat was still dark enough to match the suit from a distance. Deciding that the tie was a smoothed down as it was likely to get, the soft spoken youth continued on his way, suppressing a sudden certainty that his hair was an absolute mess, despite the reflection in the glass enclosure of an emergency firehose proving otherwise. Composing his features into their usual stoicism, Trevor rounded the corned to the dormitory common room smoothly and stopped once more in the doorway as he saw Erin. For a moment he said nothing, the silence subtly different from his usual laconic demeanor, punctuated by raised eyebrows and lips falling ever so slightly open. Marshaling his faculties, he finally spoke. "...hey. Ah, wow."
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Trevor moved to stand next to Eve, facing the opposite direction to afford the diminutive acrobat a measure of privacy with tears. His posture was relaxed, one side of his jacket pushed to the side by the hand in his pocket while he took a sip from his cup. --Be a terrible liar even if you weren't broadcasting your emotions,-- he sent mildly. The timbre of his thoughts held no accusation nor judgment, simply concern and a willingness to stand there as long as it took until the telepath was ready to discuss things.
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I was working on Ellie's Jill O'Cure costume and the updated look her brother will be sporting once he hits Platinum and ended up putting together their civilian looks too. Hopefully now there won't be any 'confusion' regarding Jack's wig... Heritage. Meanwhile, making some progress on requests. Here are Rift, Rycon and Lady Winter.
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As James explained his intentions, Trevor deftly converted his costume into a passable imitation of street wear, unfastening his jacket and tucking his mask away. So far he's managed to keep his public appearances as Midnight to a bare minimum, and he intended to keep it that way. He was a bit crestfallen when Erin blinked away, then nonplussed as he realized that he'd have to find a new ride back to the school. Clucking his tongue in minor annoyance, his dark-eyed gaze fell on Eve. Besides Mark, she'd had the most to loose with the restoration of reality; the comparison did noting to lessen her own trauma. Walking softly toward the telepath, the young man directed a simple thought at her. --How are you holding up?-- Trevor's surface emotions were like a calm body of water, though ripples of abiding anger and regret suggested tightly controlled turmoil in the depths below.
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Sure, H, I was planning on tweaking some of the early stuff anyway as I reuploaded them as png files. I've learned a few trick since, so I"m making little improvements as I have time. 42, Star, If you get a chance, PM me with more detailed descriptions of your characters. Hair colour and style, skin tone, that sort of thing. I don't have as clear a picture of them as characters who have been around longer, naturally.
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Handing James a collapsible cup full of coffee, Trevor filled a second for himself and remained well off from Mark and his mother. Leaving the thermos on the ground, he took a few steps away and pulled an earpiece from a coat pocket. One speed dial later, the sound of a phone being taken off of the hook was followed by a smooth, cultured voice. "Bonjour, l'aide au Janet Pryce-Hunter qui parle." "Is Madame Pryce-Hunter available?" the teenager inquired tonelessly, his expression impassive. "M'excuse ? Mme Pryce-Hunter est une femmes très occupées, vous ne pouvez pas prévoir à simplement-" The press of a button abruptly ended the conversation. Trevor returned the earpiece to his jacket, satisfied that his mother was once again counted among the living. He would check on his father later that evening, but presumably he too had been restored. And Gramps is old again... It was a tainted victory, to be sure, he reflected stepping part of the way back to the gathered students, intending to leave the Lucas family alone as requested.
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Jack searched for an expression of exasperation beyond the rolling of eyes as he followed closely behind Archeville and Arrowhawk. "Double A battery... you are so full of it, 'Hawky," he snorted around a smirk. "No dice on the dibsies. You can do what you want with the tin can; I owe Lucretia from way back." The swordsman cracked his neck dangerously as he lips pulled back from a predatory grin. "Gonna see how sparkling his teeth are knocked out of his head."
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Jill grinned in spite of herself as she followed the flitting pixie down the stairwell. "Probably would have gone with the white rabbit ref, but you're the shapeshifter." Her ponytail bounced from shoulder to shoulder as she shook her head an descended the steps. "The things I say in a day..."
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"Gee, looks like meaningful dialogue has broken down into senseless violence," Jack drawled as he feinted to one side before bringing his searing blade into the animated tree's bark with a single powerful thrust. "Woulda thunk it?" The fiery rapier cut through the plant matter with ease, burying itself deep into the swashbuckler's opponent before he withdrew it in a brutal arc, sap and wooden fragments trailing in its wake.
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Even behind his restored, featureless mask, it took a full beat for the rage to melt from Trevor's face as his stoic demeanor returned. Slipping his escrima sticks back into the holsters in his boots, he let the last wisps of midnight mist seeping from the seems of his uniform dissipate into the wind. The lanky youth surveyed the charred rubble on the lawn and their otherwise tranquil with some distrust before reaching for his belt. Producing a squat cylinder roughly the size of his fist, he thumbed a button set into its top, causing it to begin warming. Before long the contents of the thermos were reheated; inelegant but serviceably palatable. Unfastening his mask from behind his right ear with his free hand, he let the fabric and its built in filter hang down over his buckled jacket as he turned to the others. "Coffee?" he offered.
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Sure, I usually go with the flurry attack, but mixing it up with the Corrosion couldn't hurt. Do you want to roll those saves first, or shall I just get this post going?
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Is having Wander and Dead Head in the same thread going to mess with the continuity of Fisticuffs 2?
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The faint sound of clenching fabric came from within the creeping mass of misty tendrils which streamed forth from Trevor, obscuring his white dress shirt and giving him a nebulous outline in the poorly lit hall. "You don't say his name," he practically hissed, stepping forward to stand beside Chris. "Brainwashed my grandfather, killed my parents, made a mockery of my family's legacy." Pure vitriol bubbled under the surface of the youth's normally mild voice. Sudden movement blew the cloud of mist away for a brief moment, revealing escrima sticks drawn from his belt and held at the ready before disappearing once more into the shadowy gas. "No. More."
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Trevor's mouth opened and closed slowly a few times, the stoic teen's version of stammering in confusion. Frank snorted once more. "Are you kidding? Sweetheart, that family is hard on their clothes." The tailor shook his bespectacled head. "Heaven only knows how that bloody hat has survived all these years." "Good hat," Trevor explained simply, crossing his arms. His soft tone carried a note of pride as the corner of his mouth turned upward. "That's actually how my old man met the original Midnight, in a way," Frank mused. "Came crashing though that window there, all torn up." The stocky man gave Trevor a flat look. "Hard on windows, too." The lanky teen could only shrug.
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A feral grin spread across Jaci's face as Dynamo began moving back toward them, drawn by Marionette's will. "Now we're talking!" Reeling back, the giantess took aim and crashed her fist down, sending shockwaves through the pavement as it buckled and cracked, setting off nearby car alarms. Blinking, she raised her hand if confusion, then looked over her shoulder to see Dynamo already on his way past her. "You couldn't have mind zapped him to come over here slowly?" she groused.
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As the group of youths made their way across the lawn, Trevor kept to the rear, streams of light consuming midnight mist pouring from around the cuffs of his pants and clenched fists to hug the ground and swirl about their feet. The white eyes of his domino mask were slits, his body language that of coiled springs straining to break free as wiry muscles tensed on his exposed forearms. Throughout it all, his mouth remained set is a hard line that may as well have been as unreadable as the featureless mask he usually wore. The growing cloud of mist blended into the inky black inside the faux Freedom Hall, only noticeable where it crept up to the sickly yellow windows and added a heaviness to the air along the floor. As Trevor surveyed the screens, his eyes fixed upon the scene of his grandfather fighting next the original Raven. Something seemed to snap behind the young man's stoic visage, as his entire face twisted into a scowl that carried far more menace than a teenager should have been able to muster against a veritable god. "End this," he demanded, his quiet but suddenly gravelly voice cutting violently through the preternaturally still air.
