Gizmo

Not so much.

Okay, super tiny thing: the first line of Jack's history names his mother as "Gail Espadas". That should be "Gina Espadas" instead. Doktor'd

Jack shook his head sadly. "Personally, I judge a mummy by his actions, not by the colour of his bandages." When Ace described the scroll's intended use, Jack stepped forward and took the papyrus gently in his hands. "So it's magic? I wonder..." The swashbuckler strained his energy awareness to it's limits, it's greatest level of acuity and detail. Sure enough, there was the slightest tingling mystic energy in the paper, the feel of dormant power. Mentally reaching for that feeling, Jack laid his free hand out palm up, and a whispering wisp of energy rose from the scroll like a lover's sigh. There wasn't enough there to form a true sword; the smokey blade that solidified in his hand was small and fragile, almost looking more like a key than a dagger. Jack looked up, from Ace to Edge and back down at the paper. "Well, when in doubt..." he muttered before jabbing the blade dead center into the symbol the immortal adventurer had revealed and turning it as if unlocking a door.

Alright, Jack's got this one, then.

"I know all about monsters in the dark," Midnight responded in a perfect deadpan, eliciting a confused look. "Aliens. Shapeshifters." His tone was terse but respectful. He tilted he chin upward, revealing a sliver more of his glowing red eyes from under his fedora's brim, and asked, "Why?"

Yee... wait, how is a PL10 guy hitting DC 32? Toughness save. (1d20+8=10) Oh, man...

"Am I supposed to answer that?" Jack drawled flatly, though he followed Colby's instructions and continued to stare into the talisman. "Or should I 'keep my big mouth shut'?" His ill-concealed annoyance made it difficult, but he allowed the dreamcatcher to draw him in, focusing on not fear, but the rage and impotency he'd felt, lying broken against the MAVERIC as the West End burned.

Midnight followed after the gunrunner as he lunged forward. "You cannot hide from your own guilt," his chilling voice informed the criminal. Trevor smashed rest of the acid down on armor, aiming for what looked like the thinnest metal in the suit. He followed up with a vicious roundhouse kick that brought a heavy boot crashing into the weakened spot. He knew he was giving up a sense of his position to do so, but he wanted to take the mechanized monstrosity out of the fight as quickly as possible.

Blarg, okay. The battlesuit guy doesn't know where Midnight is, so sneak attack. Trevor starts with a move-action demoralize, at DC 24, then goes to use the acid again: Touch attack. (1d20+14=34) Bam! That's a DC 21 save. I think that, thanks to the Concealment he still qualifies sneak attack, although next round the gunrunner just has a 50% of missing rather than having to make the Notice check. If that's the case, I'll surge for a Power Attack 5. (1d20+9=22) That's DC 26 with sneak attack damage, but only DC 22 without it.

The smirk slipped from Jack's lips an he expression became very cold. He was all but unreadable, but the energy blade in his hand flared argrily as his grip tightened, the pale green magics briefly taking on a curved, serrated appearance. When Grim admonished them, mentioning Ellie, his gaze snapped from the bodies to her, eye's blazing and mouth twisting as he pushed down an equally scathing retort. Instead, with visible effort, he unclenched his sword hand, letting the borrowed energy dissipate into the air and stormed out of the room. He stood just outside the building arms crossed and pointedly not responding to either of his teammates.

Even as he weaved about the young villain's futile attacks, Jack's eyes narrowed at Archeville's announcement, and his mouth set in a hard line. He'd been waiting for another shot at Knievel for a long time. "Well then, enough playing around, huh?" In one swift movement his lighter was in one hand, lit and sweeping forward, seeming to draw a line of fire in the air as a blazing rapier formed in the other. Continuing with the momentum, he kicked off the ground and rocketed toward Zealot before the fanatic could ready his whip again. The blow struck home and was followed by a series of equally brutal slices. As his target crumpled in a heap at his feat, Jack turned and addressed his remaining opponents, his tone disinterested, flaming blade held casually at his side. "I'm bored with you lot now. Go tell your babysitter I want a word."

Alright, Jack makes a sword, then move action Feints Zealot (DC 33, though he gets +1 on the save 'cause he beat the last one). The he Power Attacks the punk with his Autofire 3 AP. Power Attack 5 (1d20+12=30) That's a critical hit, so: 22 base + 5 Power Attack + 5 crit + 7 Autofire = DC 39. Yeah. DC 39 and Defense 39 on the same turn. Who. Is. Your. Daddy. (Jack. Jack is your daddy.)

Trevor was momentarily taken aback when the armoured suit disappeared even from the infrared vision granted by his mask. A tap of a button concealed beneath its fabric shifted its spectrum slightly, however, and a hazy outline faded into view. Found you. Unfortunately, his combat training was focused on exploiting pressure points and weak spots which the battlesuit simply didn't have. Guess I'll just have to make some, then. Retrieving a sealed vial of acid from his belt, Midnight silently moved behind the gunrunner and splashed some of the dangerous liquid across the metal.

Pfft, forget that noise. Jack'll blow an HP to double his dodge bonus for a round. That puts his Defense at 39.

Uh... yeah, sure, let's have him surge to use it. Touch attack. (1d20+14=31) Argh, 1 away from a crit. Still, I'm guessing that hits, calling for a DC 16 Fortitude save. EDIT: Just noticed that you had something IC about the battlesuit guy disappearing? What's that about? Midnight's mask gives him infravision, for the sake of argument. If that's not enough, do you mind if I retroactively drop those two ranks of Improved Critical to stick Counters Concealment on his lenses for the same PP cost?

At first Trevor assumed it was the pronounced difference in height between Mike and Alex that was giving him pause, but as they continued their good-natured banter it occurred to him that he simply couldn't recall the last happy couple he'd met. Combined with the glowing aura and frankly mythic proportions they sported, respectively, the pair added to the increasing surrealism of his welcome. Trevor found the entire thing fascinating, in his own, somewhat detached way. He responded to Eddie's impatience with an untroubled shrug. "Time before my stuff gets here. Something in mind?"

What he said!

Well, I think he'd better! He'll configure his Gadgets, going for this - - justified as vials of acid to eat away at the battlesuit. Let me know if that flies or not.

Sounds right, Doc. Well, Stesha said to deal with the little ones, and Jack's not one to disappoint a lady. He'll go after the closest yellow one, since that whole spitting deal seems like bad news. Power Attack 5. (1d20+12=16) Oh, yuck. I suspect he'll have to spend an HP to reroll that, but before I do, it occurs to me to ask whether I should still be using his old Strike power or the new version he got with this month's edits. It's a pretty big difference.

Jack of all Blades took a steadying step as they rematerialized in another room, a queasy expression flickering across his face. "Wurg, more teleporting, fun times," he muttered largely to himself. The swordsman watched as Phantom and Avenger went about their business without offering explanation. He wondered at bit at the porcelain skinned man's disappearing act. Just how many powers does this guy have? Jack still couldn't pin down what his energy awareness was trying to tell him about his grim host; he would have guessed a magic user of some kind but that didn't feel quite right, certainly not the same way the lady of the house registered. Placing his hands behind his head, Jack decided for once to keep his mouth shut and observe.

The conversation continued around Trevor, largely without his encouragement. The lanky youth had always been inclined to listen rather than speak, and with so many extroverted, albeit friendly, personalities about, he defaulted to that tendency once more, simply taking in what was being said, getting a sense of his new classmates. Their evasive and sly mention of the curfew confirmed his suspicion that super powered teenagers were not so easily dissuaded from putting their talents to use. When Alex appeared and introduced herself, he reached down and accepted her hand with a light touch and inclined head which suggested a certain ingrained formality, calmly allowing Mark to step in and introduce him. Trevor failed to bat an eye at the petite girl's display of metahuman power, nor Eddie's more subtle demonstration. If anything, he felt an odd relief, a confirmation that he was not alone in his strangeness. At the energetic Mark's suggestion that dark haired young man hang out with the group in the future, the faintest of smiles touched his lips. "Sounds good," Trevor agreed.

"Under control," Midnight brusquely responded automatically, not bothering to take more than a split second to ponder the proper etiquette when interrupting a computer generated double of a celebrity's date while in the process of rescuing her. "Gamma is being dealt with." The level of detail in the simulation surprised him; he hadn't been expecting the brawl to include backstory. He didn't have time to appreciate it, however, while Erin was keeping their radioactive chum busy by herself. Narrowed red eyes looked from Tesla Atom to the civilian. "Is he injured? Can you fight?"

quote, they're all under Total Visual Concealment from the mist. To whit: That means that unless the bad guys have an accurate sense other than sight, they need to roll a Notice check against the heroes' Stealth just to tell the general area they're in, and even then they get a 50% chance to miss. To that end, Midnight's Stealth is 28 with Skill Mastery.

Rock on, looks good.

Midnight II