Gizmo

Trevor leaned forward slightly from the waist, an expressive enough gesture from the reticent teen that it had to be intentionally exaggerated. "Naturally." Straightening, he tossed his empty cup into a nearby garbage can. "Just have to change into my work clothes. Meet me at the gate?" He kept his tone neutral, but the young man was acutely aware that he was talking much more than usual, practically rambling by comparison. He just hoped he could avoid walking head first into one of the social faux pas he was frustratingly prone to among people his own age.

"Well, I am part of the deadpan snarkers' union," Jack responded blithely as he got his bearings. "Local 207. I'm not one to discourage young talent, but we don't take kindly to scabs, y'know?" Looking down at the revelers, the swordsman scratched the stubble on his chin. "Freaky deaky. So, what d'you figure it's okay for me to stab, and what can I stab in the face?" he asked the others. Mobile venus fly traps were one thing, but if these creatures were getting more advanced, Jack wasn't sure how he felt about wantonly slicing them to pieces.

"Hear that about schools," Trevor agreed lightly, pointedly busying himself with finishing his coffee rather than watching Erin stretch. "Unspoken understanding was that I'd wait for Summers' approval," he continued, pausing for a moment before producing a set of keys from his pocket. "Not as patient as I seem." Tossing them up and down in his free hand, he tipped his fedora forward slightly, the hat miraculously having stayed on his head throughout his aerial excursion. "Still up for a workout?" he asked nonchalantly.

The corner of of Trevor's mouth twitched. "My grandfather had a set up like this I used," he said looking idly up at the night sky before giving Erin a glance tinged with wry deadpan. "Not all of us can shrug off blows from giant aliens." Gripping the parallel bars with both hands, he smoothly raised his legs and torso into the air with the ease of a long practiced motion. "Been getting rusty lately." Spurned on by an uncharacteristic twinge of showmanship, the lean young dropped suddenly down from his perch, swinging from the bars with one arm toward a set of still rings. Flipping though the air, he snagged the rings as he passed, bringing his arms down to vault into the air and hook his legs around the equipment's framework. Letting himself drop upside down, he straightened his knees and fell head first for the ground. A midair somersault brought him right side up and a lazy spin around a nearby pole deposited him lightly next to his still warm coffee. Picking it up from the sawhorse, he took a long sip. "That's how Summers found out about me," Trevor explained, looking back up at Erin, hiding any effects of exertion he might have been feeling. "Started heading into the city at night a few months back. 'Leave no trace' part needs work; The Raven tracked me down, told me to come here. Powers training." He shrugged lightly. "Grandad though it was a good idea."

Nice smile, the relentlessly observant part of Trevor's brain noted, while the rest of his mind clapped a metaphorical hand over the small voice's mouth in reflexive embarrassment. Outwardly, his expression remained passive as he nodded slightly. "Mmm. Still getting used to things," he admitted. He indicated the training equipment with a shrug. "Didn't know this was here. Used to... getting out more a night, too." Trevor was still trying to get a feel for what the students were officially and unofficially allowed to do when it came to pursuing certain extracurriculars. One's involving masks and notable quantities of violence.

Trevor sauntered through the campus, unintentionally blending into the night's shadows in his darkly coloured clothes. His ever-present fedora rested easily on his head and the thumb of one hand hooked into the belt loop of his jeans while the other held a steaming paper cup. Drawn by the sound of creaking metal and rattling chains, the lanky youth soon found himself approaching Claremont's agility course. Seeing Erin making short work of the equipment, he made a point of clearing his throat before getting too close. He'd realized in his short time at Claremont that the light footsteps his grandfather's training had instilled in him could be disconcerting to his classmates. "Wondered if you were up," he greeted serenely, taking a final sip before setting his cup down on one of the sawhorses. A few quick hops and a midair flip brought him to perch easily atop a set of parallel bars where he could more easily speak to auburn haired girl. In some settings his impromptu display of acrobatics might have been needlessly showy, but he'd found that among Claremont's student body such skills were fairly common.

Well, he already got a 14 on that roll, so he'd only have a half a chance of getting better on a reroll anyway. Sometimes you just gotta take the stun.

Hey, bringing Jaci o' Cups up to PL 12 to make her more comparable to Jack. The code's all here, but the short version is: Increased her Attack by 2 Increased her Defence by 2 Increased her Will Save by 3 Added 4 ranks of skills Added 4 ranks of Enhanced Strength Dropped Protection, brought Absorption up to 12 Added 2 ranks of Regeneration [b]Players Name[/b]: Gizmo [b]Power Level[/b]: 12 (200PP) [b]Trade-Offs[/b]: -5 Defence, +5 Toughness [b]Unspent PP[/b]: 0 [b]NPC Tier[/b]: 2 [b]Characters Name[/b]: Jaci o’ Cups [b]Alternate Identity[/b]: Rose Copas [b]Height[/b]: 5’5†- 16’3†(full Growth) [b]Weight[/b]: 105 - 4080 lbs. (full Growth) [b]Hair[/b]: Blonde [b]Eyes[/b]: Light Blue [b]Description[/b]: A petite young woman, Rose Copas keeps her golden blonde hair in a spiky pixie cut, highlighting her baby blue eyes and dimpled smile. She typically wears skinny jeans and fitted tank tops, tending toward dark, rich reds and blacks. As Jaci o’ Cups, her costume consists of a crimson, sleeveless leotard with a heart-shaped cutout in the chest, topped with black denium shorts and a matching iron chain belt and choker. She also wears a set of brass knuckles on each hand, though, given her enhanced strength, they are more for show than anything else. Rose enshews masks altogether. Also, sometimes she’s a little over sixteen feet tall. [b]History[/b]: As a child Rose Copas’ parents instilled in her a belief that winning meant everything. From learning to walk before the neighbours’ children to getting into the best pre-school, everything was a competition. As soon as she was old enough, Rose was entered into a never-ending series of pageants, where she learned that people fell into two categories: judges to be manipulated and opponents to be crushed. By the time she was a teenager, Rose had graduated to national beauty pageants, but had grown to resent her parents’ overbearing ways and tired of the relatively mundane popularity contests. Dropping out of the Miss Freedom City competition, which she was heavily favoured to win, Rose adopted a rebellious new attitude and wardrobe, taking up a series of increasingly dangerous extreme sports. Taking greater and greater risks, Rose grew careless. Rounding a treacherous corner in a motorcycle race, she wiped out, he bike crashing into the sides of the course and exploding in a massive fireball. Astonishingly, Rose emerged from the conflagration unscathed, her feelings of invincibility apparently justified. After the accident, Rose was approached by a distant relative and member of the ancient aristocracy known as the House of Cups. Rose’s miraculous survival marked her as a particularly strong member of the bloodline and a prime candidate to be the next Jack of Cups in the Tournament of Houses. All the newly named Jaci o’ Cups knew was that she’d found her way into the highest stakes contest of her career, and her mystically enhanced powers opened up a whole new level of thrill seeking opportunities. [b]Personality & Motivation[/b]: As far as Rose is concerned, victory is the most important thing in the world, whether it’s beating an opponent or just the odds. Even then, competition only keeps her attention so long as it keeps her adrenaline pumping, which is no meagre feat, given her resistance to injury. Flighty and easily bored, Rose acts on every impulse with little regard to prior commitments, laws or consequences. Rose tends to project a demure innocence while interacting with men and a dry arrogance around women, a hold over from her pageant days. Her fascination with Jack of all Blades stems in large part from her failure to fool him in that manner, as well as the challenge he’s presented her in their encounters. Regardless of those feelings, however, she fully intends to win the Tournament of Suits, which means defeating all of the other Jacks. [b]Powers & Tactics[/b]: In addition to minor super strength and impressive durability, Rose can absorb the energy from otherwise damaging attacks and use it to grow to a maximum height of just over sixteen feet. This increases her physical capabilites several times over. In combat, Rose tends to provoke an attack by taunting or simply ignoring a threat, confident in her ability to withstand the resulting assualt. Once at her maximum height, she wades into the thickest available fighting, picking up and crushing or tossing opponents. She also makes a habit of clapping her hands together with enough force to create a deafening shockwave. [b]Complications[/b]: [i]Competitive[/i] (Winning is even more important to Rose than her own safety.) [i]Crush[/i] (Rose’s interest in Jack of all Blades isn’t entirely professional.) [i]Enemies[/i] (The Jacks of the rival suits.) [i]Fickle[/i] (Rose may change goals or alliegences on a whim.) [i]Thrillseeker[/i] (Rose is an adrenaline junkie to the point of purposefully putting herself in unnecessary danger.) [b]Abilities[/b]: 18pp Str: 10/18/34 full Growth (+0/+4/+12) Dex: 14 (+2) Con: 12/20 full Growth (+1/+5) Int: 10 (+0) Wis: 12 (+1) Cha: 20 (+5) [b]Combat[/b]: 38pp Attack: +12 (+10 full Growth) Grapple: +16 (+32 full Growth) Defence: +6/+3 (+4/+2 full Growth) Knockback: -5 (-15 full Growth) Initiative: +2 [b]Saves[/b]: 21pp Toughness: +13 (+1 Con, +12 Absorption)/+17 full Growth Fortitude: +10 (+1 Con, +9)/+14 full Growth Reflex: +5 (+2 Dex, +3) Will: +10 (+1 Wis, +9) [b]Skills[/b]: 56r = 14pp Bluff 2 (+7, +15 with Attractive) Climb 9 (+15) Diplomacy 2 (+7, +15 with Attractive) Drive 13 (+15) Intimidate 11 (+16/+20 full Growth) Notice 6 (+7) Sense Motive 4 (+5) Swim 9 (+15) [b]Feats[/b]:12pp Attractive 2 Chokehold Equipment 2 Fearless Improved Grab Improved Grapple Improved Pin Power Attack Skill Mastery 1 (Bluff, Climb, Drive, Swim) Startle [quote name="Equipment"][b][u]Motorcycle[/u][/b] ([b]Speed 6[/b], 500 mph) [u]Stats[/u]: [i]Size[/i]: Medium; [i]Strength[/i]: 15; [i]Defense[/i]: 10; [i]Toughness[/i]: 8; [i]Cost[/i]: 10ep[/quote] [b]Powers[/b]: 97pp [b]Absorption 12[/b] [Boost Growth, [i]Extras:[/i] Both Types, Energy Storage, [i]Power Feats:[/i] Slow Fade 2 (Energy Storage, Boost effect), [i]Drawback:[/i] Maximum Boost to Growth 8] - 73pp [b]Enhanced Strength 8[/b] - 8pp [b]Regeneration 8[/b] [Bruised 3/no action, Injured 5/standard action] - 8pp [b]Super-Strength 3[/b] [[i]Power Feats:[/i] Shockwave, Thunderclap] - 8pp [b]DC Block[/b]: Unarmed -- DC 19/Toughness -- Bruised Unarmed (full Growth) -- DC 27/Toughness -- Bruised/Injured [b]Costs[/b]: Abilities 18 + Combat 38 + Saves 21 + Skills 14 + Feats 12 + Powers 97 = Total Cost 200 Note: Like all of the Jacks, Rose's powers are the result of a mystically enhanced genetic mutation. This enhancement specifically allows her to channel absorbed damage into her Growth effect. Magic nullification prevents this, preventing her from Boosting her Growth or storing energy points (her Absorption continues to reduce Toughness DCs normally). Effects that nullify mutant powers shut her powers off entirely. DONE BY SHAENTHEBRAIN

Before Kris had a chance to explain himself, Jack raised a quieting hand. "Step off, Lynn, we're not his parents." He turned to the youth. "Up and leaving like that was a jerk move, but I figure you already know that. You got things you gotta do on your own, fine." The fencer set his mug down largely untouched and folded his arms again. "Next time leave a note on the fridge, huh?" Of any of those who'd left in the weeks after the demonic invasion, they'd been most worried about Kris. Skilled though he might be, it was only a matter of time before the teen ended up in trouble thanks to his anger and rashness. The time and resources they'd spent in their fruitless search for him could have been better used elsewhere. Even so, being in contact at all time had never been part of the original deal, and Kris was close enough to an adult that they had to respect his choices... to a certain extent, anyway.

A lanky youth approached the small gathering from the direction of the parking lot. Battered black fedora tipped low over his brow, the dark haired student wiped oil and grease from his hands with a rag as he gave the ladies a slight not before turning to the guitar laden new arrival. "Trevor," he said simply by way of introduction, tucking the soiled cloth into the back pocket oh his jeans. His manner was preternaturally calm, his tone just loud enough to be heard without straining. One eyebrow raising almost imperceptibly in the direction of Warren's luggage. "Need a hand?"

"S'like a regular fire flu, but more hell-y," Jack answered glibly. After a moment he sighed and elaborated. "I got all pumped full of demon juice after the whole 'you're dead no wait you're not dead' thing, and went a little 'grr, argh' for a while. Got some soul-antibiotics that cleared it right up, s'all good." Accepting the coffee from Colt, he looked over Kris' new gear. "So you're a ninja now." He turned to the others and pointed a thumb at the newly returned youth. "Kid's a ninja now."

"Dios!" Jack exclaimed as Colt felt maneuvered around the rubble raining from the sky, bracing himself from his seat in the passenger side window. The swashbuckler winced as the largest chunk of the building drove Fulcrum into the ground. "Hope you got a plan for that train," he drawled to his gun totting companion before abruptly shoving off of the MAVERIC and tumbling out of the moving vehicle to rolls along the ground. He came out of the somersault in a sprint that quickly brought him to the spot where the paragon had fallen. Focusing his strength into his flaring energy sword, Jack examined the significant amount of architecture collapsed atop Fulcrum. The fencer knew that her speed and strength were likely their best bet to keep the civilians in the area safe while they dealt with the massive creatures; besides, he was going to feel pretty awful if something happened to her before he got a chance to apologize for his harsh words after the charity boxing matches. "Whelp, time for a little urban renewal," Jack muttered to himself as he began to slice through the wreckage to get to the heroine trapped underneath. His blade made quick work of the already damaged remains, and he scrambled over what was left to give the stunned paragon and hand getting up, although given Fulcrum's size it was a more a supportive gesture than anything else. "Hey, Mo," he grinned, face and costume caked with dirt and grime from the rubble. "Y'know it hurts less when you get out of the way, right?"

Ugh, fine. He failed the first roll and spent an HP for Notice Check vs. DC 23. (1d20.minroll(11) +10=24). Then he cuts the $%^# outta some debris.

Is the chunk of building still on top of Fulcrum? Jack's going to run over to give her a hand, but I'm not sure what he can reasonably do.

As the beast in the terminal went down, the Night Cycle used its collapsed form as a ramp to fly out of the damaged building back onto the runway. Speeding toward the hanger and the distracted creature within, Midnight repeated his earlier tactic, roaring around the monster's feat at a breakneck speed, keeping it off balance and confused.

Midnight will ride over to the 'House' and pull the same basic deal, tossing out a DC 29 demoralize.

Dang, he hit even with -2 and 50% miss chance? Fort Save vs. DC 17 (1d20+4=18) Toughness Save vs. DC 27. (1d20+7=21) Man... Not sure if I should bother rerolling or not.

"Put your clothes back on, kid," Jack drawled, giving Grim a flat look which was clearly meant to remind her that Kris was a few month's younger than the swordsman's own sister, and decidedly underage. "Everybody knows I'm the gratuitous eye candy around here." He crossed his arms and frowned. "I don't know what's supposed to be on you chest exactly, but you got something stuck on you. Deep, too. Feels a bit like the hellfire flu I was sporting until recently." The swashbuckler shrugged. "It's been a busy few months for everybody. You go first." Jack's wry tone suggested that it wasn't entirely a request.

"Wise guy," Jack rolled his eyes as he clapped a hand on Hellion's shoulder as Dark Star's partner transported the group to the next hot spot of otherworldly energies. The swordsman grimaced as they arrived; teleportation never sat well with him; blurring the line between matter and energy made him nauseous. Nevertheless, he took a few steps away from the others and looked about to get his bearings.

Jack of all Blades waved Dark Star's offer away. "You just stay with your lady friend, Twinkle Twinkle," he told the energy being. "I can get myself home if someone, uh, points the way outta this dungeon." Having obtained directions, the swashbuckler paused on the stairs and turned back around with a charming smirk. "If you guys ever need a help again... just call first next time, huh?" With a sloppy salute for Ace and an exaggeratedly flourished bow for Phantom, Jack was off.

Jack went to shake Kris' hand, then ducked around the teen and caught him in a headlock before mussing his hair with the other hand and a laugh. Releasing him, Jack clapped Kris on the back, then paused, giving the youth a sidelong glance with a furrowed brow. Before he'd disappeared, Razorwing had been the only member of the Interceptors besides Colt without superhuman abilities, and lacking the residue of the cowboy's interdimensional origins, he'd registered to Jack's metahuman senses as simply human, barely distinguishable from the average person on the street. Now, however, it felt like there was a tingling after-image hidden behind Kris, an icy shadow presence, distinct but bonded to the young martial artist. The shrieking cry of a bird of prey echoed with mystic power in the corners of the energy manipulator's mind. He removed his hand and took a seat. "You got mojo'd up, kid," he observed with a raised eyebrow.

As they spoke, the center of the common room shifted to reveal the staircase that descended into the Underground. A young Latino man with dusty brown hair cropped short to his skull traipsed up into the apartment building, still tugging on the last of his civilian clothes. "Man, who even tries mugging somebody in this town?" Jack scoffed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. "Seriously, at this point - buh?" The swordsman blinked as he registered one more person than he was expecting. "Kris? Kid, what the hell happened to you?!" He pointed a sternly accusatory finger at the teen as he walked over. "I thought you were dead. Or maybe evil. Again."

Yeah, I can't see them carting off all the bodies; where would they even put them? Call the cops.

Actually, he doesn't. He's got Inspire 5, but he leaves the status removal to Colt. Combined, they're practically one semi-competent leader!

Surprised that the armored villain was able to locate him at all, Midnight wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the spinning blades, but his inconspicuously armored costume took the brunt of the damage. Robots knew exactly what they were after, the black clad hero realized. A connection to ASTRO would explain the battlesuit. It certainly looked like a step up from the one he'd encountered alongside Lukos while stopping that gunrunning operation. His opponent was clearly arrogant, however, and that meant his power could be turned against him. Infra-red vision wouldn't be enough to counter the midnight mist; his own goggles had to be specially treated with a forumla invented by his grandfather to penetrate the shrouding cloud. Radar, he decided. The press of a button activated a series of micro-speakers laced throughout his suit and jacket. The high pitched wail they created was designed to wreak havoc on extra-human hearing and radio wave-based location. The screech coming from the finger tips of his gloves was particularly strong; rolling forward he clapped his hands on either side of his opponent's helmet, seeking to disorient the suit's sensors momentarily. Slipping away to the side, he sank back into the inky gas and white noise.