KnightDisciple

So....what's going to be happening?

As Gwen was measuring, a shadow fell over her, providing unexpected relief from the hot sunshine. When she turned around, she'd see senior Corbin Hughes standing there in beat up old jeans, a white t-shirt, and battered work boots. He had a small grin on his face as he examined the lines she'd already marked. "Headmaster asked me to come out and help you and some of the others. Figured I could use the workout. Plus maybe something about being a "positive influence and role model for younger students" or some such. Anyways. What do you need me to do?" He glanced over his shoulder, back toward the dorm area. "Quo-Dis is busy or I'm sure she'd be willing to help."

Are we clear to post IC yet?

Corbin turned to look at Eve with confusion in his eyes. "Who is Becky?" ---------------------------------------------------------- It didn't take that long to get an answer. At which point he was profoundly glad Indira was coming with them; at least this way he didn't feel like an over-sized third wheel. Not as much, anyways. Plus, this way Eve got her sit-down eating, and he got his buffet! He sat down in a chair that creaked a bit at his size, his initial plate absolutely loaded with a wide variety of food, his face bearing a huge hungry grin. "Man, this place has some great stuff!" He considered trying to lead the dialogue more, but between his hunger and his desire to let Eve have at least a bit of "date time", he chose to start eating, instead.

Corbin's not got experience with regular building...but despite currently having "burned out" his Create Object power in his ring (barring small items), he's got experience there. Plus Craft: Artistic. And super-strength.

Gabriel needs threads rather strongly; he's nearly to silver, but various factors mean I'm not getting much action with him. One thing that comes to mind is that I'd really like to get him on the Freedom League. There was talk of other PCs helping form a group of 5 or more FL'ers. Other than that...I'm pretty open to ideas.

Corbin had enjoyed the ride to the hotel, taking a few precious moments of near-quiet to compose himself a bit. When the arrived and settled in a bit, Sharl voiced his desire to stay behind. Corbin shrugged. "That's fine. Just give us a call if you need anything; I'm sure you can manage it. We shouldn't be gone for super-long. I promise not to spend the whole night eating." He gave the small group a grin worthy of a fox in the henhouse. "After all, I figure I need to make up for two folks who don't eat much if anything, and one teeny tiny gymnast girl who probably just needs two pieces of toast to survive a week." He's ready to dodge any swings from Eve that his teasing prompts. He starts walking toward the door, hoping the others follow. "So. What are you guys craving? I could do just about anything, but I thought I saw an "all you can eat buffet" sign on our way in. Want to see if I was right?"

Gabriel dutifully gathered up the twenty pounds, positioning it so it would be as easy as possible to carry. "Breastplate, huh? Sounds like I'm going to end up with the full set. Just wait until my old Sunday School teacher hears." As Heyzel describes the differences between now and then in Vanity Fair, Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. "Hm. Human nature's human nature, but that's nice to hear. Mankind's never been perfect or free from evil, but I can believe things have changed for the better. People just have to make the choice to change." He trudged along the path for a while in silence. "It does make me wonder why they didn't change the name, though."

Gabriel smiled as the man made the right choice and was carried off by a true flaming chariot. At Heyzel's words, he shrugged. "I don't know about "valiant". He's the one that made the choice. I couldn't force him to do it. Everyone has to make the choice to take that step, or keep sitting in their own self pity. As for the bars...hm. Now if I just had a bag to stick them in..." A half-smile on his face, he bent and started picking them up, moving them to one shoulder. He grunted as they got near the end of the task; there were quite a few bars, and while he was in decent shape, he'd never been the sort one might pick for "World's Strongest Man".

"You're a pitiful sinner, but so am I. So are we all. We are human, sir. All of us bear that stain, and all of us are separated by that infinite gulf from the Lord. But you know the Way. It doesn't matter how many years it's been. Just let go of your sin. He will take it." As he spoke, Gabriel carefully channeled some muscle and sonic power into the lock to open it, and then hopefully open the door. While he could toss a fully shout at it, careful application of power seemed the way to go. "Call out to Him, and He will answer! You need not be alone!"

Carson gave a slight smile to Heyzel as he was informed of the changes to the path, and of his limited ability to guide him. "Whatever aid you can give, I will appreciate. If there is a limit to it, such is the way of things. We will do what we must. And there is little point to opining on how things might or could be different; let us face the here and the now in reality." With that, he followed the angel into the surreal cottage-scape. He frowned at the mismatch of styles, and his eyes widened in shock at the grime itself coming to life. He nodded as Freedom Angel engaged the living collections of dirt in combat, and quickly moved to the back room. There, he stopped to consider the scene before him, his eyes widening a bit at the man's words. He seemed thoughtful before he walked up to the cage. "He is willing that none should perish, but that all should come to repentance. God is patient, sir. The truest block to our forgiveness is our unwillingness to ask for it. Have you asked him, sir? I do not claim to know the mind and heart of God. Ask, ask sincerely, and God can surprise use even in the depths of despair." He walked to the door with a frown. He tested the lock, prodding it with his hand and his powers. "I was told you would have something I need, sir. A metal. I do not wish to be a burden to you in your time of distress, but this thing is something I need. Not for my own sake, but to help me protect those who cannot protect themselves, against threats greater and more terrible than what mortal man might conceive."

Gabriel blinked at the rush, shaking his head a bit once they stopped. He spent a moment taking in his surroundings, repeatedly glancing down at the pathway and gently prodding it with his toe. At Heyzel's mention of why it looked the way it did, he gave him an intrigued look. "So I'm seeing...what, Pilgrim's Progress Version 3, because otherwise my mortal brain would explode and leak out my ears?" He shrugged. "That, I can deal with." He tried not to let himself relax too much; Heyzel was, if not completely tense, then at the least very alert. He squared his shoulders as he was told their first task. "As ready as I think I can be. What do I need to know before we go in there? Anything I must, or must not, do?"

Cobalt Templar The Heat of Battle Pyramid Plaza, Wading Way, Freedom City, New Jersey Early Evening, Friday, June 17, 2011 Corbin had been looking forward to this dinner for most of the week; he and Quo-Dis had dined with his family before, but never at someplace quite this fancy. The restaurant at the peak of Tower 3 of Pyramid Plaza had an incredible view, and a menu to match! They were just finishing dessert when the intercom smoothly asked everyone to calmly proceed to evacuate the building; there was a potential gas main leak in one or more of the towers, and they were working to evacuate everyone as swiftly as possible. Corbin frowned a bit before shrugging at the inquisitive glances of his lover and parents. They all stood to leave (Corbin took a moment to sneak the last bite of his food, an action that caused his mother and Quo-Dis to roll their eyes), and ended up at essentially the back of the line to leave. Everything was calm and orderly...right up until the soothing music from the radio speakers stopped, and a harshly accented voice proclaimed it was going to take over the world from the "unworthy", kill all who opposed him, and so on. Six months ago, Corbin would have been incredibly nervous. Now? He just shook his head with a resigned sigh as he looked at his worried parents. "Don't worry. This'll be rough, but there are plenty of heroes who can-" At this point, the four of them and three staff members were the only ones left in the room; due to the building's height, and the low-level "threat" they were under, the high-speed elevators were being utilized in the evacuation, especially from the top floors. The doors had just opened as Corbin began to speak. Which was almost exactly when the windows on the wall behind him disintegrated, and six Grue Drones (or creatures that looked much like them) flew through the ruins. Each of the drones seemed to be manifesting some sort of power, several of them crackling with electricity, while one of them was over eight feet tall. All of them looked deadly. And while Corbin and Quo-Dis had shielded Albert and Sarah Hughes, respectively, with their bodies, the staff members weren't so lucky; the shock-wave slammed them against the wall, knocking them unconscious just as the elevator doors *dinged* open. As the two teen heroes straightened, the Grue Drones started slowly walking forward. Corbin turned to meet them, and in a flash of blue fire, he was clad in the armor of his typical costume, his mouth set in a grim line. A flash of golden light precipitated Quo-Dis changing into her own outfit. However, as she stepped forward to stand by her boyfriend, he held out a hand to stop her. When he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and he kept his eyes on the drones. "Get my parents out of here. Stay with them. Help the evacuation. I'll keep these punks busy." He sensed her trying to object, and his tone softened. "Please. You're the only one I trust with them right now. The three of you get out of here and stay safe. I'll meet up with you at the house. Be careful. I love you." This last phrase was spoken both from his mouth and his mind. She could feel how much he meant it; both that he loved her, and that he'd see her again. The Drones tilted their heads as one as Cobalt Templar stood in their path and barred the way while Ultiteen hustled his parents into the elevator. Just as the doors closed, she sent one last surge of her own love and hope for his safety. Templar just smiled as raw blue flame combusted over his arms; he cracked his knuckles slowly and deliberately. "You boys don't look that tough." The largest Drone finally spoke up. "Resistance is fatal. All who flee will be added to the bio-vats." One that had crackling electricity over most of its body threw in a comment. "But the blond-haired one shall not die yet. The Master will wish to study her and her kind in-depth. She will be imprisoned, studied, and then dissected. Your powers seem to emanate from that ring. You will be terminated, and that ring will be confiscated, and its science will be analyzed for the Master." Cobalt Templar's confident smirk disappeared, and the flames on his arm intensified. In the blink of an eye, he was suddenly holding the throat of the electrical drone. "No." There was a flash of blue flame, and that Drone was no longer a threat. The huge one tried to flank him with one that had guns for hands; the one with guns for hands fell to the floor engulfed in flame. Templar's flaming shoulder slammed into the giant's neck, ending that threat. His left fist slammed out in a punishing backhand into one that seemed to be moving to support the other two; it's head wasn't made for such an impact. One of the remaining two tried to flow around him, almost like liquid; it seemed like it wanted to restrain him while the other one revved up a flaming punch to CT's face. A flare of his blue flame released him, but the punch still struck his helmet. It didn't even dent the metal, though his head did jerk to one side. He slowly turned to to face forward, a savage grin lining his face. From the exterior, any observers who actually took the time to look would see a vaguely humanoid shape fly through the glass ceiling of Tower 3, flailing as it was engulfed in flame. Cobalt Templar was close behind, his right arm still in the follow-up pose from his devastating uppercut. He glanced around, seeing that, surprisingly, Tower 3 was mostly free of attackers, though worry clenched in his gut as he saw the golden glow down near the bottom that signified his lover in the midst of combat. But he had to trust her to hold her own. She'd been training ceaselessly the last few months, feeling that she couldn't let Corbin outpace her too much, for multiple reasons. So for now, she'd have to stand on her own. Tower 1 seemed to be untouched, though he could see people evacuating from it in a fairly orderly fashion. He cast his gaze on Tower 2...And saw that while it was also evacuating, there was a set of three Metaceptors (as the final one he'd...disabled...had called itself before his blow struck) blasting through the windows. He suddenly remembered it was an observation deck often visited by the public! He left a trail of fire in the air as he sped towards the attacking Drones. The fire rolling along his body rolled into his right hand, where it condensed and lengthened into a huge war maul, the square head bigger than two of his own glowing bright blue with internal fire. With a wordless war cry, Corbin shoulder-tackled one Metaceptor and slammed his hammer into another; the final creature was taken by surprise and simply floated there in disbelief, watching the other three crash through the glass into the Observation Room. Right into a room filled with panicked, screaming schoolchildren, with almost half of them riding around in wheelchairs. It seemed it was a day for children with physical disabilities to take a tour of the Plaza. "Worst. Tour. Timing. Ever." A snarl ripped its way from his throat as the Metaceptor he'd tackled stood up and pointed gun-hands at the children. "Faulty genetics shall be purged from the human gene pool. So says the Ma-" The rest of what he would have said was cut off when a giant hammer impacted his torso and sent him flying into a wall, breaking some of the stonework there and leaving the Drone inactive. The hero clad in blue armor turned in a blur to face the other Metaceptor, its own hand glowing with flames. It didn't make the mistake of focusing anywhere but Cobalt Templar. It got one glancing blow off before he'd slammed it into the ground with his own weapon. Right before an 8-foot-tall Metaceptor punched him between the shoulder blades and sent him skidding across half the floor. Thankfully, the adults present were hurrying the children out, so most of them were out of the way of the fighting. But some were still vulnerable, so Templar spat out the few drops of blood that came from biting his own cheek from the impact, and flew head-on at the monster of science. Its flaming body flew out above the street, where the flames intensified for a moment, leaving only ash on the wind. For almost a minute, he just stood there in the abandoned observation deck, taking in great gulping lungfuls of oxygen. Finally, he straightened and walked to the edge of the room, looking out through the windows at the streets below. He could see faint flashes from dozens of running fights with the Metaceptors. He had a feeling they were all over the city. Which meant his work wasn't done, as much as he just wanted to help Quo-Dis escort his parents home. Instead, he burned a trail into the sky and looked for a fight. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Over the next couple of hours, Cobalt Templar found many fights with Metaceptors. He was a relentless force of blue fire, slamming into foes left and right, almost always opting to fight them up close and personal. Half the time he didn't even bother manifesting any actual weapons, instead relying on the flames shrouding his arms to do the majority of the work. He found himself being unusually brutal; perhaps it was bleed-over stress from the events of just two weeks prior. Certainly, fighting these creatures wasn't much different from fighting Omegadrones; he had no compunctions about going full-bore against them. He "pulled" his strikes when he fought near civilians or most heroes. But if he was cornered in an isolated area, any Metaceptors quickly learned that this ring was forged for war, not just heroics. War was brought to these monstrosities of perverted science and egotism, and every battle of that war was a losing proposition for said monstrosities. "Most folks are afraid of you things. You haven't learned yet that you monsters need to be afraid of me." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Finally, the sun had fully set, and the battles were over. Other heroes had stopped the "mastermind" of the whole catastrophe, while some had struck agains the sources of the Metaceptor army. For his part, Cobalt Templar had driven back somewhere around 140 Metaceptors, typically in groups of 3. He was weary of fighting, of hearing the sizzle of burning Metaceptor, and of having to watch his back for another flanking attack. It was with incredible relief that he touched down on the back lawn of his family's large home, before he dashed inside the back door, his costume fading just after he entered. He stopped to take several deep breaths, frowning at the rumpled state of his suit. He shrugged off the jacket as he walked into the informal dining room. His mother was busy making some tea in the kitchen, and rushed over to him. "Oh my baby! You're safe, you're safe! Don't scare us like that!" Corbin gave a soft smile as he wrapped one arm around his mother, who hollered for "everyone" to come into the dining room. "Everyone" turned out to just be Albert and Quo-Dis, who had changed back into her own rumpled dress (though Corbin knew she had some other clothes stashed somewhere in the house). Corbin tossed his jacket over a nearby chair and used his free arm to hug his father (who had a bit better luck wrapping his arms some of the distance around his son). Quo-Dis seemed to hesitate for a moment, but Sarah's vocal insistence and Corbin's mental prodding had her joining in the group hug. They stayed that way for over a minute, Sarah quietly shedding tears, Corbin reveling in the sensation of family, Albert just holding his son, and Quo-Dis smiling at the young man she cared so much about. Finally, the embrace broke up, and Corbin gave the very abbreviated version of the tale to all present. He took just enough time to scarf down a large sandwich and a larger glass of water before he headed up to his room to sleep. His parents didn't even try protesting when Quo-Dis followed, absently picking up her boyfriend's suit coat from the table where he'd forgotten it. Corbin was taking his shoes off when Quo-Dis entered; each of them seemed to follow a now time-tested ritual of preparing for sleep (which included locking the door; Corbin loved and trusted his parents, but enjoyed his privacy nonetheless) without batting an eye at each other. The large young man slowly walked to his bed and sat down on the edge. For almost a minute, he just sat there, staring into space... Before he collapsed into Quo-Dis's arms, tears running down his face as gentle sobs wracked his body. "I was...so scared. I kept wondering if I should have stayed with you. Kept you all safe. Couldn't bear the thought of losing the three most important people in my life again. Won't let it happen. Can't let it. Saw so many hurt people. People I couldn't heal. There was death. Fear. Pain. So much of it all. I can't hear thoughts, but I could feel the weight of everything in the city. All while I fought those things that were hunting people like animals. I...I didn't show mercy. It felt right then, but...the smell. I just wanted a peaceful dinner. Peaceful day. Good day, wanted that. Couldn't lose you. Love you. Have you. Won't lose you." His voice faded as Quo-Dis held him, stroking his hair and sending soothing thoughts to him. After a couple of minutes, he drifted off to sleep, and she carefully tucked him into the bed, giving him one last kiss goodnight. Just another hero getting the rest he so richly deserved after a long, hard day of fighting....

Carson had flow fast and high on his way over; no need to risk things any more than absolutely necessary. He landed with a notable work to absorb the impact in his knees, but he recovered soon enough. He took a moment to look around, the strange hush falling on the heroic Irishman as well. His steps were quiet, almost reverent as he walked into the church. He smiled when he saw Heyzel, greeting the angel in turn. "Good morning, Heyzel. Thank you again for this. Whatever "this" ends up being, I suppose." At the angel's question, Carson stopped and thought. Finally, he gently set his bag down on the ground and held a hand up to his armored friend. "Give me two minutes." With that, the 20-something walked to the front of the church, moved to one side of the altar, and knelt. He bowed his head and fingered his rosary, his mind flowing quickly into a prayer, one for cleansing of his constant unworthiness, for protection, and for openness to what might be happening. After just over two minutes, he stood, more energized than ever, and strode over to his bag, picking it up. "Yes. I'm ready now."

Gabriel and Ironclad Marine Salvage Riverside Park, Freedom City June 17, 2010 Carson Keefe had been sitting back for a couple of hours or so of relaxation; after all, it was Friday in the summer. Things were going pretty well; he had a good book ready to read, and was just catching a bit of the afternoon news. 'Man, today's going great. I'm sure nothing could possibly-' That was the moment when a mad German scientist who looked like a fish came on the television and started talking about how he was going to rule the world. For several long moments, he sat there blinking, the full measure of just what was going on not fully sinking in yet. At the same moment, the Scarab all but blindsided him with her hurried warning that this was Dr. Archeville, likely transformed by Terminus energy, and she considered it an extinction-level event. His book was hitting the floor before she and the broadcast were don speaking, and he was dashing to the bedroom to put on his costume; he jogged back into the room as the TV switched to a flurry of news reports on what was going on. Just in Freedom city, there was so much going on. He frowned as he watched the news, absently pulling his mask over his face and adjusting his hood. He was straightening his gloves when the news about what was going on at Riverside Park hit. Later, Gabriel would wonder how it was he actually managed to open his balcony door instead of simply blowing it to dust as he flew out the window. He didn't really care, though. All he knew was that he needed to get to Riverside Park before those inhuman monsters hurt anyone. Especially women and children; as much as he really did believe in gender equality and such, his upbringing meant his blood nearly boiled at the thought of women being treated like that. Add on to that the instinct almost all humanity has to not harm children... 'Pray to the God you don't believe in that others find you first, Archeville. No one threatens the innocent like this. Not even for "science".' With that dark thought, he pulled his cell phone out and worked to dial Miss Americana, even as he slowed to a holding pattern, about 1000 feet above the Park. He couldn't just charge in; he had to pick his targets first. "Come on, come on, pick up! I could use some backup here Miss A...." By the time he was nearing the Park, he could see a few bits of the metal monstrosity menacing the meandering civilians. Jessica Parker was relaxing in her Parkside apartment, reading up on the latest industry information, when Archeville's broadcast went out. With her unusual abilities, she just didn't hear the words on her television; they were beamed straight into her brain. The audio/visual assault was overwhelming. The sheer power behind the broadcast had to be staggering! When the young genius had recovered somewhat, she stumbled out onto her balcony and stared out across the city towards the water, almost unseeing as her brain tried to process everything that was happening at once. A full-on assault on the city! Fish-men rising from the deeps, and their strangely familiar leader broadcasting his demands to the world. It was a strange feeling to be standing there right in the middle of something she'd trained for, but to be unable to decide where to go first. And something about that leader was nagging at her mind... A tickle in the back of Jessica's brain let her know that someone was trying to call her. She connected with a thought and listened to a receptionist from the Lab. Apparently someone was trying to get a hold of Miss Americana, but the heroine wasn't answering her pages. Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose and thought/sent to the harried woman to pass it on to her. At the same time she touched the bracelet on one arm and armored up in a flash of light. Ironclad lifted off from her balcony, scanning the city even as she talked. "This is Jessica Parker. I'm one of Miss Americana's co-workers. Can I help you with --" At that moment the Fjölnirskraft breached the waters of the Centery Narrows, opening up on the bridge that spanned the water and obliterating it in a flurry of weaponsfire. The heroine didn't waste anymore time, opening up the throttle and making a beeline to where the craft was beaching itself. "This is Ironclad. Speak fast if you're going to, I'm about to be busy." For a split second, Gabriel's mind raced to place face and names together. Then it clicked. 'Hm. Seems like she's a good choice, too. Don't know her as well as Miss A, but beggars can't be choosers. She works with Miss A, she's got to be one of the best.' Perhaps it was an unfair comparison, but he didn't run in the "tech circles", so he had to use the one point of comparison he had. Besides, the girl had built her own suit of powered armor at an age where most kids were deciding what major they wanted to take in college. "This is Gabriel. I'm calling for backup, air support, and tech support in one. There's a giant squid-sub-thing in Riverside Park. Fishmen are hurting men and taking women and children. Seem to be focusing on women. I think, maybe, I can mostly take on the fish-men. But the sub would get away. I could try taking out the sub, but I'd be firing blind. I don't want to accidentally kill hostages. I need help. Can you help me?" His voice was firm, and there was an undercurrent of barely restrained righteous anger in all of his words, but especially the ones describing how they were taking women prisoner. Ironclad was silent as Gabriel described the situation to her. She watched the sub grind its way onto the land and latch tentacles onto the Sentry Statue, before its mouth opened and it began disgorging mutated fish-men in large quantities. Finally, she answered the hero, her voice terse and flat. "The tentacles. Sever those, and we can push it out to sea." Her next words were grimmer as she bellied down over the rooftops of Riverside. "Let's see how well these guys can swim." The armored heroine came in over the park, barely a meter over the carefully kept lawn. She tucked her head into her body, held out one hand, and smashed into the leading rank of Deep Ones, brushing them aside like so many blades of grass. From overhead it was no doubt almost comical, the green-and-gold heroine sending a line of mutated Atlanteans into the air as she cut through their ranks. From her perspective, however, it was far more harried as her cameras gave her a constantly shifting view of black-scaled Deep Ones flashed past and being clubbed aside. Fjölnirskraft's layout wasn't public knowledge, and it wasn't stored on any of the servers that the heroine could access on such short notice, but if the need arose she'd lift the sea craft from within and fly it out to open water. "So long as we're pushing after we rescue the prisoners. Let me knock down some of the riff-raff. Also, taking down the weaponry from the inside wouldn't hurt." With that, Gabriel hung up his phone and dove down at one of the largest groups of Deep Ones. Stopping less than 200 feet up, he spent several seconds taking deep breaths, clearly preparing himself for something. He took one last, great breath, just as the crowd below him started to notice him. Then he let out a roar worthy of a lion or a tiger. It was less something heard, and more something felt, from their scaly skin all the way down to the things which passed for bones in their twisted bodies. And as they felt it, to a one they locked up where they stood, unable to do anything but stand there, paralyzed by fear, shock, or something else. Whatever the case, the brave citizens of Freedom City took over from there, and that pocket of Deep Ones was summarily driven back. Meanwhile, the hero in white had already started dodging energy beams, weaving complex patterns in the air. He dove close to the squid, landing on the craft itself near the base of one of its huge metal arms. From there, he directed a concentrated beam of sonic waves at the metal, desperately trying to weaken it enough to the point where he could hopefully blast it off. All while the craft worked hard to shake him off and crush him! Ironclad almost didn't notice when she was finally within the sub, but the timbre of the sound of her gauntlets smacking aside Deep Ones changed slightly, and her extra senses could tell that she was surrounded by a wealth of technology and information beyond even what she worked with every single day. It was almost enough to overwhelm her visual impression of the interior of the sub; dark, narrow walls that looked more like carved stone then metal, inadequate lighting, and a rapidly-thinning number of Deep Ones. The heroine followed the data stream deeper into the machine, taking turnings almost at random; at once point she used her enhanced strength to punch through an inner bulkhead. She was, in fact, following the main data trunk straight to the bridge. There she came upon a strange sight; another of the black fish-men dressed in what looked like Roman armor, surrounded by a phalanx of armed and armored warriors. He opened his mouth and started gurgling at her in their weird language. Ironclad replied by blasting him in the face with her particle beam, then wading in to lay into his guard. Several minutes later, feeling the aches and pains from her battle but stoically ignoring them, the heroine stood before the main console, palms flat on the computer. There was no time for a physical interface. Her brain dove into the unfamiliar computer system, working far beyond her normal abilities; she could feel a nosebleed start under her helmet, taste copper on her lips. She pushed herself harder, fighting back defense systems and boring firewalls and encryption. Outside, Gabriel had just managed to slice through the first tentacle when the weapon ports stopped targeting him. Instead they turned on each other and started blasting each other apart in carefully timed sequences. At the same time the sub's engines spooled up and the vessel started backing into the bay. Unfortunately, the other tentacle was still wrapped around the legs of the Sentry Statue, and the imposing edifice to Freedom's most famous son began to tremble and groan as it was pulled against. Gabriel had had to stop his work on the giant tentacle several times to dodge fire from the various defensive turrets. He'd managed to turn one into so much slag, but there were many more scattered over the vessel. As he fought, the effort to repel the Deep Ones slowly gained ground; despite his focus on the submarine, other heroes seemed to be in the thick of things, driving the hordes back. When he cut the first limb free. a smile crossed his face. Right before the whole vessel lurched. He looked towards the sound of screams; it seemed that while someone had worked to free the hostages, they weren't all out of the boat yet. He grit his teeth at the sound of the besieged statue, and focused on communicating with Ironclad. After a moment, he could hear her, though it was muffled by the vessel. His voice was slightly "tinny", but less muffled. "Ironclad! Stop the engines! We've still got hostages evacuating the sub! And at this rate, you're going to bring the statue down! Disengage the arms first, keep them from retaking the control center, and I'll work on severing some of these other arms! Don't worry about a radio, I'll hear your response!" He waited those tense moments to hear from the armor-shrouded hero, hoping she wasn't too caught up in a fight to respond. Gabriel's voice, distorted as it was, broke the young genius' concentration. She'd fallen into a kind of meditative state, so focused on her hacking into the sub that she'd pushed her physical concerns to the side. Now she fell back into her body and the aches and pains came in a rush. The nosebleed, of course; sharp pains in her hands where she'd retracted her gauntlets and pressed her bare palms against the controls and dials; a dull but growing headache, probably from the anti-intruder protocols she's subverted; and burning aches in her jaw and thighs where she's clenched those muscles groups during her machine dive. Ironclad shut the sub's engines off and took a step back, glancing over the Deep One she'd fought to gain the control room. A few were stirring, and the big, ornately armored fellow was getting (woozily) to his feet. The heroine stepped up quickly and jabbed him in the solar plexus, finishing him with a rabbit punch. On Gabriel's recommendation, she hauled the Deep Ones out in the corridor and locked the door. With the bridge secured she seated herself in the throne-like chair in the middle of the room -- no doubt intended for the master of the vessel -- and linked in with the computers. She was dumped back into the weapons systems, but now she noticed an attached folder labeled "Intruder Defense." Driving into that she discovered internal weapon systems, apparently intended to help the crew fight off potential boarders. It hadn't helped the human crew, but it already had the Deep Ones loaded as targets. It was easy enough for the technopath to arm and activate the system. Thunder resounded in the corridor and Ironclad smiled grimly. Poking around a bit, she found the cameras and an internal routing system. She broke into the intercom and broadcast of the ship. "Folks, this is Ironclad. If you look up, you should see some green lights. Please follow those to the nearest exit." She disconnected and relaxed in the chair. "Thank you for sailing the unfriendly seas." Gabriel heard Ironclad's announcement, and nods. He hears the grateful voices of the remaining hostages as they flee the boat. And finally, hears the panicked yells of the Deep Ones inside the boat. Part of him says that they can feel fear, so they're probably at least somewhat sentient, so he ought to feel bad even if it's non-lethal. But the sight of wounded men in the streets, and terrified women and children streaming out of the sub, washes that feeling away almost entirely. He speaks one more time to Ironclad. "Going off comms for the moment. You'll see what I'm doing soon. Might want to hang on to something." With that, he flies out a bit further from the mechanical beast, moving to an undamaged side, with four of the huge mechanical arms in view. He closes his eyes for a moment, focusing his mind and his powers, waiting... As soon as the last person is clear of the boat, his eyes snap open. He throws his hands forward, and a cone of half-solid sound waves roars through the air, sounding like a freight train coming out of a mountain pass. It slams into the base of all four fully visible tentacles. At first, it doesn't seem to do anything. But after a moment, ominous groans emit from the base of the arms, and those looking carefully will see the metal starting to warp. Not to be outdone by himself, Gabriel takes another moment to focus, then sends out a second cone of sound. This time it's like a supersonice jet screaming in directly at the sub. The sound hits the boat, and the lower quarter of the four arms just falls apart, splinters of metal falling into the water, as some of the hull is damaged. He follows this mighty feat up with a couple of quicker blasts, striking two more arms, shearing them from the submarine. He then lands on the craft near where he thinks the control room is, and "flips the switch" in his mind to talk to Ironclad. "Arms blown! You're clear to take her into the water! All hostages clear!" Ironclad had to cover her ears when the sound of the tentacles being torn apart by focused sonic blasts tore reverberated through the metal skin of the craft. When the noise died down and Gabriel announced that his side of things was done, the heroine carefully took the craft back into the bay -- and then started powering up the Wading River! Before the hero on the outside could speak up, Ironclad did. "There's damage to the sub," she said. "One of the ballast tanks is completely ruptured. If I tried taking this out to sea, it would fill up while we were still in shallow water. It might even block the Centery Narrows." That last was a blatant lie, but the young genius couldn't countenance leaving this much incredible technology at the bottom of the ocean, for the crabs and sea plants to fight over. "I'll tie it up outside the Lab, we're best equipped to investigate this sort of thing." In fact she did just that, squeezing the craft into the passage between Hanover and the North Side. Once the sub came to a shuddering halt (driving its remaining tentacle-stubs into the riverbed in lieu of proper anchors) Gabriel started hearing a loud, metal-on-metal sound emanating from the part of the sub just beneath his feet. In a few seconds he noticed a part of the hull denting outwards; a moment after Ironclad's gold and green fist punched through the metal. In minutes she had torn a hole a few feet across and climbed out into the sky. She rotated slowly, taking in the mangled sub, the nearby Lab, and the whole of the city. "Well," she said, turning to Gabriel. "If this superhero thing doesn't work, I guess we'll always have a future in marine salvage." Gabriel decided he preferred flying alongside the submarine, considering how it stopped and started and was all around unsteady in its movements. As they left, he thought he caught a glimpse of a lone, bloodied Omegadrone flying off from underneath the giant craft. He'd seen a woman taking charge of the fleeing hostages, and a few heroes helping hold back the small army of Deep Ones. All in all, it seemed like the heroes of Freedom City had come together once again to save the day. When Ironclad finally parked the sub next to the Lab, he carefully lowered himself onto the hull, then waited for the strange metallic sounds to stop. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled when the armored heroine ripped her way out of the mostly-wrecked sea vehicle. He smiled and reached down to help her up (a symbolic gesture at best, really). "Yeah. I suppose we could. I'm pretty good at PR; I'm sure I could do the commercials for it." He looked out over the city, which still rang with the sounds of fighting, but it was noticeably less than before. He gave a tired sigh. "Well. Just glad I got to do my part today, I suppose. Gonna be some rough times ahead, though. Especially for folks like you and Miss A. You two, or any of your science friends, need some help, especially with Public Relations, just give me a call. We heroes need to stick together, no matter the battlefield."

Initiative: 15. Just behind the crazy German guy.

Feel free to initiate a combat round now. Or we can fluff it; Fenris isn't world-shattering, but he's pretty well in his element, and Ramstein didn't seem that heavily armored when last seen. Up to you, Supercape.

GM/NPC If the suit could have frowned, it would have. "My actuators aren't strong enough to be much help slowing it down. But I'll reach the engine compartment before you can; I should be able to undue what damage he's done there. Catch up when you can." And then he was gone in a flash of light and a small rush of wind. It took him perhaps 30 seconds of getting onto the top of the train, and then dashing forward, to reach the front of the train; thankfully, it wasn't moving too fast yet. He could see the vague hints of a blur that was Jubatus as he seemed to work on slowing the train. He had different plans. Instead, Fenris dropped down between the front-most car and the engine. He then tore the door open and took stock of the situation inside.

Corbin chuckled at Indira's literal interpretation, even as he rolled his sleeves up. "It's a figure of speech. Well, a variation of one. The whole point is that something like a cougar would be dangerous to wake up like that. I'm just saying, we ought to be careful. Last time I said "things are going smoothly", our plane nearly crashed. Suppose I'm just a mite superstitious." He shrugs as he looks around for a nearby bus stop. Failing one of those, he'll keep an eye out for a cab, to flag it down. "We're going to have to hoof some of this, but hopefully we can get a ride at least halfway."

Gabriel nodded slowly, a small smile creeping on his face. "Sounds good to me. I could use some good sleep right now. Um, where do I need to be tomorrow?" Once given that bit of information, Gab-no, Carson, will fly home at top speed, to slip in as quickly as possible. Thankfully he was not noticed. It was perhaps 40 minutes later, and he was fast asleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The next morning, he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, lugging a backpack that had a couple day's worth of MREs, several bottles of water, and a sturdy Bible inside. He paused for a moment to look around his apartment, his left hand wandering up to fiddle with the crucifix hanging around his neck. A half-smile crossed his face. "Hm. Good thing I had those sitting around; maybe next time I'll be able to use them to explore Sanctuary more, like I wanted."

Corbin had gone from formal attire to something better suited to the climate and location; seeing that their path took them into the woods, he was especially glad for this. He glanced around, adjusting the strap on his duffel bag somewhat. wearing a red and black flannel shirt, heavy-duty blue jeans, and solid-looking work boots, he mostly stood out due to his stature, though one or two people gave him amused glances. He didn't really seem to notice as he frowned at the map. "Yeah, that map's a bit odd. Don't like the feel of this, not totally anyways. Why are we going into the woods? Not like we're in a small town, this place is pretty big these days." At Sharl's question, he gave a pained grimace. "Sharl, we saw what me tempting fate did. Let's not poke the sleeping cougar, hm?" With one more glance at the map, he started heading outside and off to their destination. Whatever it was, exactly.

Knowledge: History 27. For...I guess whatever I can get from what info we have now.

This test is quite fun, and has a whole pile of results. For the record, this was my result: Your result for The Fantasy RPG Class Test... The War Paladin 58% Strength, 7% Bloodlust, 30% Intelligence, 50% Spirit, 32% Vitality. and12% Agility! LInk to original size. Powerful and noble warriors, War Paladins are both masters of weapons and defensive magic. By imbuing their weapons with light magic, War Paladins can easily and effortlessly vanquish any evil or undead foes. Additionally, they excel at defensive spells which they use to enhance the protective power of their shields. The magic of spellcasters has little affect on War Paladins because of the defensive capabilities of their magical shields. These shields also help protect them against any physical attacks, making War Paladins almost impossible to injure. On top of that, they can use their magic to heal themselves or their allies. The combination of high physical power and high defensive magic make War Paladins one of the top classes. Their only downside is that that they can sometimes lack stealth and can be quite slow; however, the strongest War Paladins have increased their agility enough so that it is not a problem in battle. Congratulations on reaching this high class! You have not mastered any Hidden Power granted by the Genie.

Corbin had watched with great curiosity as the other three young heroes gathered information and covered their tracks. 'Man, these guys move fast. Good to know.' He nodded at Indira's words. "Good point. Can everyone fly, or do we need to try bugging out some other way? Indira, you know the area best; should we try to just slip out in civilian mode?"

With that in mind, I believe I'll focus CT's efforts elsewhere.