Gizmo
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Bench blanched as he took a step back from Echo, bumping into the alien machinery behind him. Placing one hand to his head he looked about the cavern in apparent confusion. "I... Where am I?" he asked groggily, blinking rapidly before his eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious Grue. "What are those things?! I don't unders--" "He's lying," the Metaceptor interrupted with a grunt as Jack helped him to his feet. The pronounced German accent was gone from his speech, leaving his English oddly precise and belonging to no one region, not unlike a news broadcaster. He shook his own head and for the first time since he'd walked in on Echo's investigation his features stopped shifting about, settling into something distinctly inhuman but she had to admit a bit handsome in an unearthly, androgynous sort of way. "But he's not a Grue, just a collaborator who thought he could profit off of an occupation." Bench opened his mouth again to protest but a look at the heroes told him that the jig was definitely up. "How did you know?" Rubbing his temples, the genetically engineered amalgamation offered the politician a thin smirk. "It seems that this one... that I have some skill in telepathy. Because I am a Grue, aren't I? I never was Jack of all Blades." The words were heavy and he looked down at his hands as though seeing them for the first time, unsure how to react.
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Winifred swallowed thickly as they moved along, remembering that the scenario had been crafted in part to test her reaction to stress. That thought didn't help calm her nerves nearly so much as she might have liked, nor did remembering that none of what she was seeing was strictly real. "This whole affair is fundamentally disturbing," she muttered just loudly enough for the other girls to hear. "How can you trust anything you see know this level of illusion is achievable? Phaw." Turning back to the asylum grounds, she looked about and attempted to get her bearings. "That woman in black said something about tracking a 'signal' but I don't think any of us are equipped to follow such a trail, correct? Still, perhaps we might deduce the sort of space from which such a broadcast might logically originate. A high point, perhaps?"
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Winifred gave May a polite nod, wondering if she ought to introduce herself but deciding that if Robin was going to use a pseudonym in this context she ought to defer to her roommate's vagueness. Further debating whether she wanted to risk sitting down anywhere in the restaurant in his white coat she gave Riley a quizzical look at his own confusion. "You don't-- ah, I suppose your community had other distractions," she realized before giving him a grave look. "The sort of men in question are predators, Smith, to put it in your parlance. Violent ones, most often, where greed leads to wrath. Consider the sort of person who would seek out the desperate and mentally ailing and burden them with a soul destroying chemical dependency for profit." Some such substance abuse might have been considered relatively acceptable recreation in her time but she understood the chemistry involved well enough to take the subject more seriously. Many of the rogue scientists she'd learned from had looked to such narcotics to 'expand their minds' but she could not think of a one who had not been left worse for it. "You wondered how a community can be allowed to remained impoverished; these peddlers are both symptomatic and vectors of that condition."
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"You may be underestimating the enjoyment we each derive from talking," Set put forward before deciding that perhaps this was an opportunity to exercise his oft neglected sense of discretion and standing up from the couch to give Phantom a deferential bow. "Your fair and measured terms do only credit to you and your patron, of course. My graditude." Sekhmet looked considerably less pleased with the arrangement, making a low sound in the back of her throat as she looked between the others in the dorm room. "...methinks I have no wish to be privy to such discourse, though duty demands no less," she muttered largely to herself with a sour expression as she began to suspect that she had ended up as the only real loser that day. Listening to Set's flirting was bad enough when no one was reciprocating but at least she would hopefully be able to keep him and Huang out of trouble. Some of it anyway. Set stifled a smirk, schooling himself into the best of behaviour. "Effort shall be made to avoid scarring you permanently, oh Lady of Slaughter. Pinkie swear." Looking to Huang and then back to Phantom the godling hesitated, shifting weight from foot to foot. "I... would have you know that I did not realize his lineage until well into our initial encounter, Chosen One," he began with uncharacteristic difficultly, head ducking slightly between his bare shoulders. "Not that I expect I would have acted differently, I suppose, but truly I intended no betrayal of your trust."
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"That should be enough folding chairs for everyone," Gina Espadas judged from the doorway to the kitchen, doing a mental tally of the guests they were expecting for the umpteenth time that afternoon, making sure that they had enough of everything. The kitchen itself had proven too small for their needs this year so a pair of table had been moved into the living room and placed end-on-end with an assortment of wicker-backed chairs and their folding metal cousins, made more hospitable with mismatching cushions. She shot her son a dry look. "Sure you don't want to spring any last-minute additions on me?" "Can I help it if you raised me to be respected and well like by my peers?" Erik quipped easily, slipping past her wheelchair with an armful of cutlery sets wrapped in cloth napkins. He didn't believe for a moment that his mother was actually upset to be hosting a particularly full house for Thanksgiving this year and she didn't bother trying to sell the thin veneer of grumpiness any further, either. "Bird's looking good and we've got enough to go around even before what everyone else is bringing. Now if only Ellie and Mara would bring the extra plates down from the upstairs closet instead of making out!" He raised his voice to carry to the second floor with the last part, causing Yolanda to groan in protest from where she helping to tidy up the rest of the room for company. "Min and Talya will be over with the girls any minute and everybody else knows the score. Smooth sailing." The elder Espadas snorted in vague comment, giving the back of his head a narrow look. "They seem to be getting along well. Min and Talya, that is. Since she's been back." Erik paused briefly before resuming what he was doing. "I feel like you're trying to say something there." "What would I be trying to say?" "I... don't know?" Gina simply made a humming sound before wheeling about and heading back into the kitchen to keep an eye on the turkey.
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"You're a delight, Smith, truly," Winifred drawled coolly, biting back of a sharper rejoinder about the crossbowman's home. That would only lead to hurt feelings; home was a difficult topic for either of them and neither was much good at backing down from an argument once they got going. She really couldn't afford to let herself 'get going', either. Better to simply remind herself that Riley thought he was funny and leave it at that. Walking past him into the restaurant she looked up and down at the decor with an expression of terribly wounded aesthetic sensibilities. "You're sure this isn't a narcotics den?" she asked Robin quietly, doing her best not to stare at the seated patrons.
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The sandy brown haired man at the door leaned forward on the door as soon as Buffy unlocked it, smiling a little too widely as he stuck his booted foot over the threshold between the door and the frame. "Hey! Hey, sorry to bother you so late, yeah?" he greeted, tilting his slightly cleft chin down slightly to look at the younger woman and taking great care to be what she gathered he imagined to be charming. He wore a baby blue windbreaker zipped up over dark brown pants, one hand on the door and the other resting on his belt. He indicated the other man with him, a reedier looking blonde in a maroon tracksuit with hair that reach almost down to his chin and framed an almost manically amused grin. "My buddy and I were looking for Ricky Espadas. This is his place, right? We're old pals, see."
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"Cowboys fly," Eden explained the Raina with exaggerated patience, planting her hands on her hips and leaning forward imperiously even though it meant she had to consequently crane her neck to maintain eye contact with the tall teenager. "An' Tal'a can turn invis'ble an' she's not a witch. I think your story is veeeeery susp- suspit- I don' believe you. You need to do some magic and prove it." The three year old adopted an expression that was actually quite sly all things considered even if it was immediately transparent to Raina. Meanwhile, on the floor, Mia expressed largely though the medium of drool and humming that if she was going to follow what the funny looking, hairy baby was getting at she was going to have to get a closer look at the extended foot. Unstated but heavily implied as she began crawling toward Merlin was that this was probably going to involve using her mouth more than her eyes.
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Jack of all Blades Initiative: 1d20+9 19
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Jack of all Blades Jack Power Attacks for 5 and takes 10 with Takedown Attack 2, meaning an attack of 25, a DC 21 Fortitude Save vs. Drain Toughness and a DC 26 + Autofire Toughness Save vs. Damage. That should take the pair down handily.
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"Oh hey, so this is where the local BWEA is meeting these days?" The almost melodic voice rang out overhead, breaking the tense silence a moment before a figure dropped down from the nearby fire escape, silhouette obscured by the coat flaring out around him. Landing just behind the two men further into the alleyway, the masked mad stood up to his full height and spread his hands. "You know, the Bladed Weapons Enthusiasts Association? No? Don't tell me you were thinking about actually using those on this nice young lady!" His tone was dripping with exaggerated surprise as with a flourish fire leapt to his fingertips and coalesced into a red-orange rapier of dancing flame. The light from the sword illuminated the royal blue bandanna mask and reflected off of teeth exposed by a dangerous smile. "Because I just don't see that going well for you at all."
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Erik suppressed a wince when Talya explained the topic of conversation she'd shared with the wife in question, hiding it more or less behind a sip. He was acutely aware that he was the only one there who actually looked his age and could count on continuing to do so; he wasn't sure how much that made him the child at the adult table or the terminal invalid who's condition everyone was politely refraining from commenting upon directly. Maybe it was more that he was the emotional equivalent of undetonated ordnance, set to go off at any moment and wreak havoc on those around him. He was starting to see how things had gotten to 'bad night'. "Pfft, you want to talk feuds, one time I accidentally deflated Pete Carrera's soccer ball and he didn't invite me to his birthday party that year," he interjected blithely, all hint of grim thoughts absent from his voice if not his posture. "True story. So is the 'more than friends' thing like Band of Brothers or like the other kind of HBO show? 'Cause with the not-so-subtle sizing up thing, I could see it going either way." Everyone there knew exactly what he was doing as he shifted the topic and why he was doing it. Didn't make it any less effective.
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"Trying to track the signal is a good idea," Trevor agreed, crossing the garage floor to stand within arm's reach of Erin but without reaching out or getting in the way of her fidgeting. "Sure Hallomen will want to help." If nothing else he expected Erin's employer would be sympathetic to the cause of tracking down a pair of abductees. Between that and his own equipment they would have the technological side of things covered and Eve had collected a few mystical experts at the Dutemps Building the last he'd heard. "Should head over there now, make up for lost time. Trail may not stay hot for long."
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A bit put out, Mia made a little coughing burp to point out that she wasn't going to get anywhere with regard to sticking her foot in her mouth if Raina was going to insist on turning her right side up every time she started making progress. Her older sister ceased her energetic bouncing when the teenager mentioned flying, instead standing atop the couch and fixing her babysitter with a surprisingly steely look for a three year old. Looking Raina up and down carefully she suspiciously opined, "You don't look like a cowboy." Downstairs Buffy had just cracked the double digits for her weight lifting set when she heard the rapid staccato of someone knocking on the front door of the school. The main room where she was training was separated from the entrance by the mirror-lined wall in front of her with a break to her far right connecting the two sections. Erik and his wife -- Wives? That part hadn't really been covered and it hadn't seemed appropriate to ask for details. -- had only left about a half-hour before and they'd have had a key anyway. The school's proprietor had been pretty clear that she had the gym to herself for the evening, too.
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Jill O'Cure Standard Action: Use Create Object to put a dome between the Interceptors and the Atavisms, including protecting the machinery. Create Object 12 (Power Feats: Progression [10' cube/rank], Selective, Stationary, Tether, Extras: Impervious, Movable) [52PP]
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The promise of staying up past her bedtime clearly piqued Eden's interest but the three year old did her best to play it off and keep her expression skeptical in the hopes of negotiating further concessions from their new babysitter. Giving her the choice of what to get on the pizza broke her tenuous composure, however, and with glee she hopped up onto the sofa and began bouncing up and down to punctuate her chant of, "Cheese, cheese, cheese, cheese!" Mia, meanwhile, rolled over until she was upside down and made a burbling giggle that made it clear that any assumptions based on underestimating her commitment to getting her foot in her mouth where she could better examine it were foolish indeed.
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The Night Cycle only ever made as much noise as suited Midnight's purpose and in the early hours of the still dark morning it suited him best to be completely silent as he pulled up to the mouth of an alley from where he could observe the museum and the patrol cars surrounding it. In the deep shadows one might have walked right by the black clad vigilante and his similarly dark vehicle without ever realizing they were there. "You suspect more than simple brigandry?" Redbird asked from within the Night Cycle in as soft a voice as the autonomic machine intelligence ever managed. Midnight merely made a quiet sound of affirmation as he dismounted. This thief had taken far greater pains to cover their tracks than could be justified by someone merely looking to turn a profit. Whatever had been stolen had some specific value and he intended to find out what that was. With a curt gesture that instructed Redbird to hold steady but remain vigilant Midnight disappeared into the night.
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The OOC!
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Friday, November 13, 2015 Even with Merlin around to help supervise Raina was a little surprised to find herself to be anyone's first choice for a babysitter, short notice or not. Still, Talya had been as difficult to say no to as ever and it wasn't as though the young pyromancer couldn't use the extra income. And so she found herself in the apartments above the Espadas School on a Friday night, armed with a list of contact numbers, money to order a pizza, the knowledge that one of Erik's other students would be downstairs using the training equipment after hours and instructions that, should anything go truly badly she should literally call for 'Vince', whatever that was supposed to accomplish. While little Mia Espadas sat on the carpet in front of Raina concentrating mightily on her efforts to maneuver her own foot into her mouth, her older sister Eden looked up the tall blonde expectantly.
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Erik didn't need to be able to hear what Min was saying to recognize what she was amused about and tried to school his expression into something less immediately readable, with limited success. He was still fairly obviously looking to see if Talya was favouring one leg or leaning on Min for support, as though spotting an physical injuries would somehow give him insight into what had upset her emotionally. "He's pretty disturbing, alright. I appreciate the commitment to prop comedy, anyway," he grumbled as he followed after Dimitri with a stack of cups in his hands, letting the bit about the drinks being 'on the house' pass, esily prioritizing Talya's situation over his minor annoyance with the Russian. "Sounds like a busy night...?" he prompted.
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At the touch Kimber straightened in her seat - the novelty of being able to properly sit in corporeal chairs rather than hovering above them still hadn't worn off - causing the reclining, leather wrapped back to creak softly as she shot the shadow witch a look that gave up on trying to look reproachful in favour of being coyly amused without much of a fight. "Pay attention," she whispered insistently through a small smile, the sentiment undercut by the twinkling in her sea green eyes as she curled an ankle around Tarva's calf. She flicked her eyes back in Bluebird's direction, doing her best to follow her own advice and keep up with the briefing but she had to admit that she was slightly more interested in trying to peek at what the taller woman was writing.
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"Daddy, he stole the choc'late!" Eden protested from Erik's shoulder, holding onto her father's shirt with one hand and balling the other little hand into a fist at the indignity of it all. "I know, chiquita; I get the feeling the Comrade just does that sort of thing," Erik drawled with a flat but not entirely unamused look in Dimitri's direction before turning his head to given the girl a light kiss on the forehead. "Head back to bed, alright? I left a glass of water in your room so no more wandering around." Eden grumbled as she was set back down but relented, heading back into the apartment from the direction she'd come and leaving the man with the dusty brown stubble to give the Russian vampire his full attention. "Alright, Old Silk Hat, you're doing the immortal thing where you act like we're having a normal conversation but it's really a test to see if you can write me off or not." He'd met far more than his share of functionally ageless beings over the years and he'd noticed they were even more inclined toward categorizing those they met than the average person, probably because after a while it was hard to give everyone you met the same level of attention. Gesturing toward the door to the hallway he moved to follow Frost downstairs. "Whatever you want to ask me, just go for it but I want to hear more about that 'old friend' and whatever they said to Talya." His tone of voice suggested that veteran status alone wouldn't be enough to stop his from picking a fight if he thought it was necessary.
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While the Metaceptor reeled from the psychic onslaught the man from whom he'd been templated in part burst in furious motion. A controlled burst of laser fire vaporized rocks to his left as he feinted in that direction then pushed to the right, laying one unsuspecting Grue low with a rising strike then another when the panicking alien tried to tackle him at the waist. The momentum brought him to the group engaged in mental warfare, all of whom fell with pained grunts before they could successfully refocus on the physical arena. All around the cavern Jack danced, a blur of flashing flame and whirling greatcoat, always one step ahead of red hot darts of energy and limbs shapeshifted into wicked implements of slicing and piercing. The mind-linked invaders faltered as more and more of their brethren fell to the swordsman until the last few blows were little more than mopping up, leaving Jack standing amid literal piles of unconscious forms, giving the Metaceptor a hand to his feet. Bench clutched his stomach where Echo had struck him, regaining his footing enough to look up and see that the odds had rapidly fallen out of his favour. Swallowing difficultly the suited man raised his other hand in a sign of surrender.
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For a moment Jack looked up at the laughing man with a scowl and a glare that could have cut almost as deeply as his sword then, abruptly, his expression split into a grin. Quietly, barely loud enough for Steve to hear beside him, he let out a soft chuckle. "I know it's the wrong time and the wrong dimension, but I hope you're watching this, Bill." Tilting his chin upward he raised his voice to address Mastermind. "Hey there, Chromedome. Don't think we've been properly introduced yet and I really want you to know later just who it was who crammed that mask where the high noon sun don't shine." He gestured to his own chest, then to the injured man beside him. "I'm the Jack of all Blades. This is my friend Caradoc, who you made the big mistake of treating pretty poorly." He tapped his fingers to the brimmed hat atop his head, raising his voice over the growing rumble coming from the direction of the mines. "This is my thematically appropriate hat, which I stole from one of your mooks. And that--" he continued, pointing behind the group facing them down, having to shout to be heard, "--would be the big damn cavalry!"
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Metaceptor Passes the round clearing his daze. Jack of all Blades Standard Action: Energy Sword vs Grue Arcane; Power Attack 5: 1d20+15 32 Grue Arcane Toughness Save vs DC 29: 16#1d20+7 15 25 24 25 21 21 26 15 24 20 23... (Yes, it's impossible for any of them to make that save, just let me have this!) With the Grue dispatched Bench surrenders!
