KnightDisciple

Gabriel continued to become more astonished by Dark Star's powers. "You're able to sterilize folks on your own? That's really impressive. You mentioned rescues. Do you do that a lot? Interplanetary rescues? How far do your wormholes reach? What's the weirdest planet you've been to? The one most like Earth?" It's clear that concerns about astronomical catastrophes aren't on Gabriel's mind; only the questions of a curious man. It's clear he's asking with a sincere desire to learn.

Wow, I managed to not suck this time around. Initiative: 16+2=18

Right, Notice Check once I arrive near the building. Notice: 9+10=19. Well, good thing he's got a decent mod...

Gabriel's face blinked for a moment in confusion, before a degree of understanding kicked in. But as the man spoke, something like worry crossed his features. The way this man was talking, he feared Fusion might try something that she would regret later on. "You called the right number. My name is Gabriel. I was headed to the station anyways to stop him. I'll make sure she doesn't make any mistake she'll regret. And I'll do my level best to stop the broadcast ASAP. I promise you. I will do my best." With that, he hung up the phone and rushed about finishing putting his costume on. Within moments, he was ready to go. "Please Lord, don't let me be too late..." he prayed as he opened his balcony window just enough to fly out of his apartment and into the sky at incredible speeds. A low boom echoed as he performed an arcing path over the city, balancing speed and not blowing out every window on his path. One or two might get cracked, though. As he nears the GBN building, he slows, finally hovering about 80 feet up, and about 300 feet away. He takes the time to try to see any external defenses the young pervert might have put in place...

Carson had been flipping through the channels, trying to see if someone had some bloody decent football (what the Yanks called "soccer") on. He'd just found an actual live game going on (these local teams were actually pretty good), when some punk came on the screen. By the time Doc Otaku was done speaking, Gabriel's expression had gone blank. The air positively *thrummed* with his barely contained anger. "The bloody nerve of this punk kid! Pumping this filth over the airways! And using a bomb threat to distract the Freedom League, no less! I'll give him the worst headache and indigestion he's ever had." His anger slowed him a bit, as he donned his costume a bit slower than normal. He'd just pulled on his gloves, lacking only his mask and his distinctive hooded coat, when his phone rang. Seeing that he didn't recognize the number, he picked it up and spoke in his "neutral American accent". "Hello. May I ask who is calling, for whom they are calling, and for what purpose?"

Gabriel looked to Dark Star with surprise and even...eagerness? "You can take others with you? To...other planets? Other corners of the galaxy, the universe? That...Do they require space suits, or the like?" Wonderment is starting to trickle into his voice. "That's...wow. That's incredible. I've always wondered when humans would reach the stars...Probably not just like they have it in the movies, but still. To reach up, and go beyond where any man has gone before...That's something, alright."

Corbin gave a solemn nod. His hand stopped blocking the door, and he snapped off a salute to Blake as they inched their way closed. "I shall do you proud, captain my Captain Blake." With a soft *ding*, the elevator doors closed, and Corbin began his descent.

Corbin taps his chin in thought, then shrugs as the elevator dings and opens. "Gym sounds like a decent start. I can ask around from there, if she's not there already." He smirked at Blake's not-so-subtle praise. "Yeah, I could probably manage a workout with her. I definitely wouldn't mind spotting her." He steps into the elevator, but holds his hand in the door, looking to Blake with curiosity and...well, not pleading, but definitely a sincere request. "You going to come and watch, and give me moral support?"

Corbin glances at his hand, then shakes it in the air until the fire goes away. "Sorry. Sometimes it just kind of responds to my subconscious, you know. Anyways. Yes!" He gives a righteous fist bump to Blake, a huge smile on his face. "For the sake of the future of all mankind, we shall have a double date!" One arm grabbed his bag, sweeping it over his shoulder. His other grabbed Blake around the shoulders, pointing him towards the elevator before releasing him. Corbin was already striding towards the conveyance to the ground floor, stopping only for a moment to press the button. His enthusiasm dimmed a bit as he had a confused look cross his face. "So...where would I find her? Quo-Dis, that is."

The pencil stopped tapping, as did the foot. Carefully, gently even, the various drawing supplies were placed in Corbin's bag nearby. Then, he suddenly stood up, right foot going onto the table; left hand on his hip, right hand pointed into the air. "You're absolutely right! I've been slinking around this school for weeks now. Because I've been afraid. Well, no more! Today, I shall go out there, I will find Ultiteen, and I will ask her on a date! And gosh darn it, she'll just have to say yes! Because there's no reason to refuse me! And you!" His right hand points at Blake, random flares of blue fire flickering around it. Corbin doesn't seem to notice the flares; at least they seem to be staying on his skin for now.. "You're going to call your girlfriend up after I do, and we're going to go on a double date! Because we're both just that awesome! And the date will be awesome! Are you with me?" He plants both hands on his hips, taking his foot off the table, and leaning forward, waiting for a reply.

Corbin coughed in embarrassment. His blush deepened a bit. "Hey, I like the women on American Gladiators. It's just the extreme woman bodybuilders that don't do it for me. I think you know the ones. But I suppose I might have a slight edge in not being scared by, ah, athletic women. You think I should? I mean...I'm new here. Wouldn't it be awkward? Besides, when would I see Ultiteen next? Or rather, Quo-Dis. I should use her given name, not her codename. Unless she likes her codename more..." The pencil's still tapping a nervous rhythm, and it's joined by his left foot as well.

Carson kept up his slight smile, though on the inside, he was more ambivalent. 'She seems distracted. I probably ought to leave her alone, lest I become "that guy".' Taking a final swig of the last of his Coke, and laying more money on the counter, he stood from his stool, giving a slight bow to Carrie. "Well, it was a pleasure speaking with you, Carrie. I'll leave you be, in anticipation of your friend's arrival. Have a good evening." With that, he wandered off to the other end of the bar, going back to crowd-watching for the moment.

I'm a Reynolds fanboy, and I agree, I would have preferred Fillion. But, we got Reynolds. Which at least satisfies me, if not sending fanjoy bursting through my veins.

Gabriel frowned in thought. "True. You're able to go flying off into space. I know that has me beat, even if I'm no slouch at speed. I just wanted to go a bit higher and crank it up a notch, you know?" He glances at the buildings around them. "I wasn't really thinking of racing at this altitude. I don't think I'm quite that skilled of a flier yet...I just wanted to go high and really cut loose."

Gabriel stood there for several long moments, just pondering the situation. Finally, he slowly straightened up from his position against the opposite counter. He carefully walked over to Robin, stopping when he was close enough to hold out one gloved hand. "Do you have to take it from a certain part of the hand? And what about after you do this little...ritual? You mentioned blood could let people track me with magic. Will you dispose of it safely afterward, to prevent that?" He's still clearly uncomfortable with this whole affair, really. "Blasted demon...wish I could just have it banished back to Hell where the thing belongs."

Gabriel chuckled. "I suppose "independently" is a bit of a perspective thing in my case, but that's neither here nor there. And Victory's right; being able to travel to the stars sounds incredible. Even more so if you can do so without a spaceship! Don't think I'll ever manage that myself, sadly. Pretty sure sound doesn't work in space." He looks around at the buildings, and then his fellow fliers, and a devious grin passes over his face. "You guys wanna race?"

Corbin chuckled as he stood there. Estelle seemed like a good person, really. "I think I can settle for saying "life is cyclical" and watch a few more pretty lights." He too fell quite, following the display with his eyes again. He seemed to be almost memorizing the patterns, trying to take the whole vista in at once. "I'm going to have to try drawing some of this later..."

Gabriel...didn't immediately move. He had seemed uncomfortable before, but now he was downright wary. His eyes seemed glued to the knife. "No blood borne disease, though I was living in the United Kingdom less than 12 months ago. And no, no..."aura reading". Um...just what are you going to do? Especially with that knife?" His eyes moved to Robin's face, his expression skeptical.

Gabriel taps his chin in thought. "Hair is really doubtful. As you can tell, it's kind of trapped in this costume. Blood...hm. Possible. Especially if it got some off the ground from my fight at the end of last month. Saints know I bled enough on the ground." A brief look of phantom pain crosses his eyes, and he absently rubs one hand across his chest. "I know it couldn't get other fluids, Miss Cross. Unless I was heavily sedated and completely unawares...which would beg the question of why it didn't kill me there. No, that's not likely. I'm not too concerned about it laying hold of my soul. But I don't like the idea of dying quite yet. I'm averse to agony, you know. Confronting it with the purpose of destroying it would be satisfying in one sense, but I'd need backup, and to do so someplace we wouldn't risk lives. I'm saving that option for now. I would never make a deal with a member of the Legions of Hell. Be it the lowest of the low, or the Morningstar himself." He looks ready to spit, his face expressing notable disgust before he tempers himself. "I'd rather die than pass this on to someone else. If it could be passed to, say, a rock, that would be an option. I'd rather not seclude myself for my whole life. But deflecting attention is good." He raises an eyebrow at the name of the particular charm. "Corpse charm, you say? That doesn't contain the ingredients I think it does, does it? Do you have a way of confirming what sort of curse or such it has on me first? Before you go using up "fairly specific ingredients"."

"Fair enough. It's not necessarily my usual scene, either. I mostly just came to keep an eye on Frank and Tim." He shrugged. "Are you more of a homebody, then?" While there were obvious tones of flirting in his voice and conversation, Carson was being careful to keep it subtle. He was mostly just being polite, but Carrie was a nice-looking young lady, after all.

Corbin listened thoughtfully to what Estelle was pondering. "No, I spilled your champagne. I owe you a dance. I don't mind you musing aloud. It's...refreshingly honest. I think you're right, but also wrong. I may not be a chemist, but I can understand that principle enough. Thing is, if you keep fixing something, it won't ever quite break down. And as a student of history, I'd also point out that while Rome did, indeed, fall, other empires and countries have survived. Perhaps diminished, but they live on, their culture still flourishing. Just look at Britain. Centuries of existence as a country. At their peak, they had holdings all over the world. Today, they may not control much beyond the Isles themselves, but they're still a respected international power. A financial center, cultural center, and so on. They adapted to the times, and stood against the worst this world had to throw at them. America's a melting pot, but there's more than a bit of our heritage that comes from Britain. We've withstood a lot in our days. I think the country will, in time, find its feet. We may end up sharing the "superpower" title with other countries. But I don't see us going down in flames." He smirks. "That might just be the optimism of my youth, though."

Carson nodded and turned to order her another Roy Rogers. He then turned back to face her as the bartender fixed the drink. "Nice to meet you, Carrie. Sorry for the less than ideal trigger, I suppose. And I'm more just the Designated Sober Man. I'll keep an eye on them, help out if they get in trouble, and call the cab for them at the end of the night. I don't mind coming out to places like this, but I generally just take a drink or two at home, if that." His friends, having finished their shots, had turned to go back to the dance floor. Frank saw Carson's current conversation, and gave him an exaggerated thumb's up. Carson made a shooing gesture, and the fellas were back to work dancing. "Are you just here to enjoy the club, or are you meeting someone later?"

Gabriel sighed and pushed his hood back, revealing the fact that his mask covered his entire head, save for his eyes and mouth. He leaned against a handy counter, arms crossed over his chest. "So, a couple months ago, myself and a few other heroes ran into a demon. A straight up demon. Going by popular culture, some sort of succubus or something; it looked female, seemed to have a lot of mind control type powers, and could shapeshift into whatever you happened to find most attractive. Creepy stuff. Unfortunately, we didn't manage to banish, seal, or even just kill the demon. It set the building on fire, with wounded still inside. We evacuated them, and the demon swore revenge. Cue this month, where on top of the scattered nightmares about zombies and necromancers, I'm now seeing the bloody demon in my dreams. And every so often, I feel like...something's watching me. Not in the "God's always with you" sense, but "something with intention to cause harm is watching". It's really sporadic, though. No pattern. Do you think you can help see if I've got...I dunno, a curse or something on me? I'm not sure how it would have gotten on there, all things considered, but still."

Gabriel glanced up at the sound of Robin's voice. He saw the pile of boxes, and started to offer to help...but she seemed to have things well in hand. He settled for holding the door open while she went inside, and then quickly stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He then turned around, taking in the shop, walking around a bit to get a feel for the place. When he faced Robin again, he seemed...distracted, almost. "Um. Hello. My name's Gabriel. Well, my hero name, anyways. I...kind of came her for some help." Up close, the intricate patterns on the border of his coat likely stood out more. The odd-looking material seemed to utterly disdain dirt, keeping an immaculate white sheen to it. The rest of his clothes were clean, though they seemed more regular in composition and tailoring. "How much magic do you do? Like, actual casting, or whatnot?"

Gabriel still felt...nervous was probably the easiest word to use. Apprehensive, maybe. It certainly wasn't the time or weather; it was a fairly mild early afternoon, all told. Oh, sure, here he was using sound in ways that would make most scientists cry tears of sadness or joy, depending, to fly through the air at incredible speeds. All because the head Archangel of Heaven, Gavriel, had changed his body to have these powers, and charged him with carrying his name (or a variant of it) into battle against evil. And he didn't even mind so much that that battle included real live demons. That didn't mean he was totally comfortable with the idea of some of the more arcane heroes out there. Some seemed fine, but his upbringing made it hard. But the fact of the matter was, he was having weird feelings lately, along with unusual dreams, and he didn't think most other heroes would be equipped properly to help. So, he went looking for help in...the yellow pages. He actually had a list of shops and listed "wizards" to go to, and this was the first on the list. Besides. Just because they believed different didn't make them bad people. He'd just have to get over it and be nice. Or he was sure his mother would give him two earfuls when he visited for Christmas. So it was that our sound-flinging hero in white landed not far from Cross’ Roads, the magic shop. He proceeded to walk up to the door, trying to determine if said shop was open or not.