KnightDisciple

Well in that case I'd prefer to spend it on Typhon's Will Save. That said, if Gizmo would prefer that not be the case (due to having the IC post for Typhon up already), I'll use it on that Lamia's attack.

How many times can I use Luck Control before it's my turn? The answer to that is going to determine a couple of things for me. If the answer is "whenever you want", then I would be using it a total of 3 times: Typhon's Will Save and the Anti-Lamia's Attack Roll (I was considering the Toughness Save, but honestly with a +15 a DC 22 save is not a good place to use that). If the answer is "only 1 time a round" or the like, then it will be on Typhon's Will Save and I'll take the attack.

Since Midnight seems to have a plan, but his only instructions to CT were to "get above it"...I'm just going to hold action until Midnight goes. We can assume he positions himself as instructed, barring a change in plans, and I'll write as such when my IC post gets made.

You included the Inspire bonus on all those Bee rolls, right AA?

Fear Is The Mind-Killer Freedom City, USA 9:05 PM EST, December 25th, 2014 This was not how he'd wanted to spend Christmas Day. Aleksander had been all set for a "day off" (meaning he got to spend time with his family unless something really big went down). The League was stretched thin, but the line was holding out there in space... Until suddenly it wasn't, and Callie Summers had to break out the Special Equipment to help stall Communion forces as long as possible. And so Alek's Christmas with the Barbeau family was canceled. Loren and Melissa were probably sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee or cocoa, worrying about their adopted son. Said adopted son, currently dressed as Nevermore, the stoic sidekick of the Raven, was currently dealing with some rather low-grade rent-a-thugs. That wasn't really the problem, though. The problem was they were hopped up on some chemical cocktail that made them the next best thing to fearless (which at least made them fight stupid, but made his normal attempts to use panic in his fighting utterly useless), and dressed in outfits hastily plastered with question marks. This had all the hallmarks of not one, but two of his boss's consistent foes: Conundrum, and Fearmaster. But why were they working together? Why now? To what end? That's what he was here to find out; he'd caught wind of something big going down that had a lot of regular hoods running and hiding. That was never good. And the whole underworld was twisting in uncertain action, with chunks of the Freedom League off-world, but other parts being more active than ever, never mind the couple dozen other official hero teams spread across the globe, and the hundreds (if not thousands) of metahumans and superheroes scattered all over acting individually or in loose coalitions. But there were even more scoundrels, scumbags, and scalawags in the world, and they often snuck about more deviously. Not to mention all the rather amoral hired help ready and willing to be brought on as extra muscle with just the promise of some cash (though Alek heard tell most of the muscle in Freedom City was unionized and organized and had benefits and retirement plans and so on these days, a fact he didn't know how to feel about). Some may have had odd superstitious rituals, and overall the criminals of the world may not have had the collective courage of the heroes, but their schemes and plots nonetheless brought very real danger into the lives of multitudes of men and women every day, whether or not the fiends got caught most of the time. And when dealing with two of the most cunning foes the Raven had ever tangled with, that caution was well-warranted. After all, Andre Keston was frightfully clever all on his own; Conundrum's schemes often kept Callie Summers occupied for days on end untangling all the loops and curves. Adding in the fear-obsessed Melvin Blume and his overly theatrical "work" as Fear-Master, and it was a partnership that had proven near-lethal for heroes in the past. In the midst of a crisis like the one facing Earth (and thus Freedom City) now, it was all the worse. Raven was unavoidably detained well outside city limits, so Alek was facing the situation himself, with occasional radio support from Duncan Summers. But the aging Headmaster was himself very busy trying to coordinate the efforts of the young heroes-in-training at Claremont were putting forth to try and stem the chaos in the city. Nevermore punched one more thug to unconsciousness, before almost casually pointing his other fist almost straight behind himself, and flawlessly tagging another rent-a-muscle who was attempting to quietly escape (apparently not all of them juiced up?). The man was dragged back through the snow and slush, uselessly clawing at the icy ground until he was left with Nevermore crouching over him. The low-level mercenary was trembling a bit as the young vigilante griped the front of his decorated bulletproof vest, lifting him a bit off the ground. "What are they up to?" "Who?" "Conundrum and Fear-Master. I would suggest talking. Now." Honestly he still wasn't great at this whole "scare them into talking" thing like Midnight was, but the tips he'd gotten from the older hero had helped, at least a little bit. Just a few changes in the inflection of his voice and the thug was scared enough to talk. "Okay, I don't know everything. No, really, I don't! But, see, I heard them talk about how we had to be ready!" "Ready for what." "Like I said, I don't know it all. But something's going down by City Hall and stuff. They made it sound like the Mayor, and Police Chief, and a lot of the other bigwigs, would be out of the picture, or making it worse. And then something else would go down, and the police wouldn't be doing so hot. And we're supposed to grab everything we can!" "Money?" "No. Like, jewels, gold, "raw materials". Like...I dunno man, it's like they're trying to go off the grid! Work with the black market or something. The way they were talking, they're planning to skip town as soon as the job's done." Nevermore is silent for long moments, simply watching the man. The mercenary becomes more nervous, and speaks again. "That's all I know, I swear! Just...please don't hurt me any more!" "Fine. But you're playing nice and staying here for the cops." "No problem! Just don't eat my soul or anything!" He gets a look. "Hey, some of the guys, they talk, about you cape types. And it's not like that's the weirdest thing in this town." "Just shut up and play nice." "Yessir." And with a whirl of cape and the revving of a motorbike engine, Nevermore is gone, leaving a bunch of would-be looters tied up and (mostly) unconscious. He was soon speeding through the streets toward the headquarters of the Freedom City police, when he skidded to a stop on a street corner with a frown. He was thinking too rashly; whatever was going on, Conundrum and Fear-Master would likely trigger it if they saw him near any of the stated target buildings, something they surely had their own surveillance for, let alone hacking nearby traffic cameras or the like. But maybe he didn't have to go to City Hall himself. He tapped a hidden control on his belt, and opened a radio call... A few minutes later he was halting outside one of many warehouses in the dock district of Freedom City. But while at a glance it looked normal, his trained eyes caught signs the place had been extensively "remodeled". He saw hints of a much sturdier structure, as if a slightly smaller building had been built inside. But to what purpose? He looked some more, and saw what looked to be a loading dock. His bike stowed, the young hero crept through the shadows, closer bit by bit to the entrance. Finally he was there. A couple of minutes passed before he chanced a look. There was a small door that...there, a guard was opening it, but only for a smoke break. There was a puff of compressed air, a mechanical whine, the flapping of a cloak, a muffled grunt of pain, and the sound of two bodies thudding into concrete with a fair bit of momentum. Then there was just silence, until Nevermore rolled the unconscious and bound thug off the slight ramp to the ground, propping him up where he wouldn't suffocate or anything of that nature. Then he moved inside. As he explored the place, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the myriad cameras, he found himself both worried and disappointed. It was all very professional, and industrial, and efficient, but it had none of the hallmarks of either of the villains supposedly involved, except for minor bits of flair most of the hired help wore. Oh, the conversations seemed to say they were around, but the whole thing had him expecting a twist any moment. So when he finally observed the very basic control room with the two villains in it, he was almost disappointed. The gleaming craft that basically screamed "spaceship", though, was more impressive. It had a set of doors on the "belly" open with a ramp leading up to it, and several empty pallets sitting around. Conundrum seemed restless, while Fear-Master had his mask sitting to one side while he idly polished the claws on one of his gloves. 'Man they're both showing some gray at the temples. Next thing you know I'll be tangling with teenage versions of them with more power than fashion sense.' Nevermore smirked at himself. 'Says the teenage boy in tights and a cape.' Just then, Conundrum spoke, his voice agitated. "Why hasn't the chaos started yet? Your machines were supposed to be flawless!" Fear-Master replied, sounding more bored than anything. "Look, I'm good, but this is untested territory, at least on this scale. We know the devices work in a laboratory setting, but the exact note of panic you want is hard to nail. Having someone besides us rig all of those things up in all of those places more than a day or two ahead of time is less than ideal. Your plan is still good, and we've got the second phase devices prepped as well." Conundrum signed and shook his head, seeming to relent. "See this is why I like working with you, Melvin. You're about the only one in our little circle who can act professional in times like this. Most of the others are going crazy for one reason or another." Fear-Master shrugged. "Seeming assurance of death does that to people. You and I just happened to know a way to bypass that assurance." Nevermore's eyes widened behind his mask as what was going on really clicked for him. Or clicked enough to not make a difference. So he rolled his shoulders and prepared to dive in... "Assurance of survival changes things. Wouldn't you agree, young man?" Conundrum's too-casual question alerted Nevermore that the proverbial game was afoot. He chose to dive all the way into the control room, trying to keep his momentum going. Good thing he had; there had been a couple of rather skilled mercenaries moving up the hall behind him with high-caliber rifles, clearly intended to take on typical nighttime vigilante armor. But inside the complex control room, using such weapons was less than ideal. Conundrum was unimpressed as he reached and grabbed a metallic walking stick etched with question marks and the occasional prime number. "You fool, this changes nothing! We'll take you out of the equation, then gather everything we can as this city descends into panic, chaos, and barbarism, and leave the solar system before those metal monstrosities do what they wish with this planet. We'll live like...well, at the very least nobility, if not royalty." Fear-Master nodded as he calmly slipped glove and mask on, even as Nevermore bobbed and wove around jabs from Conundrum's stick and several shock rods wielded by the mercenaries. The master of panic and mayhem calmly walked over, waited for a moment, then swiped down with a single blow. "Gold, jewels, raw materials, they sell no matter where you are. You, though? You shall die in fear." The strike shredded a bit of the edge of Nevermore's cape and skipped off his armor plating, leaving tears in the fabric covering said plates. Nevermore wove around the follow up strikes and swept the legs of three mercenaries. He actually grabbed one of the falling men and shoved him into the others, and in the chaos at least a couple of the shock rods went off, leaving the whole pile insensate. Fear-Master sighed as he spoke. "So hard to find competent help." "Maybe you should pay them better." Nevermore's mild comment belied the rather brutal assault he was levying against the horror movie wannabe. Fear-Master was acquitting himself well enough, but mostly due to his glove and occasional support from Conundrum (who mostly stood back and poked that walking stick in occasionally). But Nevermore's training for his whole life had been brutal and efficient CQB styles, and he was wearing high-end body armor. Ultimately, Fear-Master's skills weren't enough, and he found himself insensate on the ground. Nevermore turned to face Conundrum. "Your plans are, what's the word? Oh yeah, foiled. All the bigwigs evacced a couple minutes ago, and bomb squads are sniffing out all your goodies, in the offices and elsewhere. Seemed like a good plan, though." Conundrum actually snarled as he pressed a small button on his walking stick that caused a half-dozen small turrets to drop from the ceiling and simultaneously hit Nevermore with taser rounds. The youth wore an insulated suit but it wasn't enough, and he was left trembling on the ground as Conundrum paced a circuit in front of him. "It was going to be glorious! Not just mindless fear, but directed panic! Martial law declared from nowhere, riot troops needlessly deployed, increasingly harsh measures in a matter of a few hours! Then, widespread panic induced by further devices, causing massive riots! So much confusion that the raw materials we desired would be easy pickings! Raw materials we could load up and then trade out there in the cosmos! Because this planet is as good as doomed, you stupid boy! Why stay with a sinking ship?" "When it's not sinking." "Wha-" And then Conundrum was spinning back from a powerful punch from a man who appeared out of thin air, and before he could regain his wits, Nevermore swept his legs, grabbed him, and tossed him in an over-the-shoulder throw to land on Fear-Master, while tossing a shock rod onto the both of them. The villains were left moaning before going unconscious, and Nevermore was left looking at the infamous Magpie, who stood there calmly, arms crossed over his chest. The youth blinked and tilted his head. "My boss isn't, uh, here." "I know this, young one. That is why I am here. Normally I do not do such backup, but it is unusual times, and she is quite busy out there, yes? Always so selfless, that wonderful woman. And you're a good sport, too." He chuckled at the frown. "What I mean is that you're clearly her student, in all the right ways. She should be proud. I am impressed. And that's part of why I helped you. That, and these two had such a...blunt...plan. And you and I both know that the Raven, and all the other heroes, will win this." "Yeah. Boss Lady's smart, and good at what she does. So are the rest. Look, I think technically I should say something about arresting you or whatever, but putting aside that Boss Lady's totally sweet on you--don't tell her I said that--you pulled my butt out of the fire. I owe you personally, and at this point you're not high on my "to arrest" list anyways. These guys would have caused...geeze, I don't know how much damage, but you helped me out. I can't really chat over coffee, but we're even, I'll see you later." The thief looked taken aback by that last statement. And then he just knew the young man was rolling his eyes. "I might have been raised in a weird environment but even I can see how you two make googly eyes at each other. Far as I'm concerned it's "when" not "if". Catch you later, Magpie." "Indeed. Fare thee well, Nevermore." With a swish of a cape and a pop of displaced air, the two men of action went about their days. After all, this place still had thugs to punch. Nevermore grinned as he rolled his shoulder. 'Never a dull moment on the job...'

Useful and fun but not what I'm looking for. AA, Gizmo, Electra, and a few others have the indicator; it rests *below* the post count and includes the colored icon for what reward tier you're on (as well as the word for it). This may be a feature lost in the board transition but preserved as a legacy item on existing profiles, admittedly.

Cobalt Templar goes on...11. I think the dice have it in for all of us guys, Gizmo.

Sun Walker frowned a bit. "Self-important melodrama while further desecrating the dead is most distasteful." There was a blur of motion, and suddenly the monkey-featured man was next to one of the beasts still on the ground. His body twirled through a complicated set of motions that built up momentum, ending on him delivering a spin-kick that looking like it could break concrete, right to the beast's shoulder. It was honestly a fairly sloppy hit, but it still connected. The weaponless warrior landed in a crouch, his lashing tail at odds with his positively serene face. "I believe I shall deny you the use of your toys."

You want to reroll that Save please. And deduct an HP from me.

Sun Walker finds this whole matter distasteful. Move Action: Get up in the busnax of the Anti-Lamia. Free Action: Power Attack for 5. Standard Action: Punch the Lamia. With magical kung fu. 16. Which is apparently just enough. DC 25 Toughness Save!

Gabriel's eyes narrow at the oncoming insect storm. He stands a bit straighter (no mean feat for a man floating in midair) and is suddenly holding his shining spear. In a blur, he is standing upon Super-Bee's back, the spear pointing toward the foul things flying toward them. His own voice echoed like thunder after Super-Bee's own. "To war, my friends! Today we drive back this foul pestilence to whence it came! We ride, to cleanse this taint! To purge it with fire! These demons shall know our fury!" His words stirred the hearts of bee and dragon and man alike. Then, he shifted, and was sitting astride Super-Bee's neck, as if riding a large horse, and the spear was suddenly an otherworldly trumpet. And then Gabriel began to play a tune on it, and the hearts of his friends and allies stirred even more. They somehow knew they would win today.

Ah, Gabe's up first in his line? Perfect, perfect. Move Action: Fly up to Super-Bee and land on her back, classic cavalry style! Free Action: Change Spear to +2 Trumpet! Free Action: Array to his high-Charisma mode. Standard Action: Inspire! +5 to the heroes and Bees! And to spice that Inspire up, here's a Perform (Wind Instruments) check: 33. This will leave Gabriel with 4 Hero Points.

Cobalt Templar was still encased in his energy construct when the Erins began racing away. He saw Trevor revving up the Night Cycle, but knew the others might need a speed boost. "Right then. Aquaria, hop on my back please and hang on tight. Cannonade, Monsoon, a hand apiece. I'll give everyone safety harnesses. This'll be rough, but quick." Indeed, when all three assented and moved to the requested positions, blue constructs coalesced such that they were all held securely, but no uncomfortably, in place. Templar crouched his "mechanical" legs a bit... And suddenly the heroes were rocketing through the air, racing toward the site of the disturbance. They landed mere moments after Wander arrived on-scene, CT landing in a crouch that absorbed the impact, the restraints disappearing to allow his impromptu passengers to disembark. "Right then, time to get back to work. Sorry the flight didn't have any peanuts."

The Love of a Brother Cline Home, Freedom City, New Jersey, USA, Terra 9:30 PM, December 25, AD 2014 They'd stayed at the infirmary for almost an hour, but things were getting bad out there. Which meant the infirmary was starting to pile up, and Doctor Johannson had politely but firmly requested Will take his sister somewhere else. She was sleeping mostly-soundly at this point, but some of the injured students were a bit rowdy (often from pain rather than malice or anything of the like), and with that many powers floating around, combined with pain and painkillers, it was a risk doctor and brother both didn't want to take. So after making sure her suppressors were turned up as high as possible and comfortably secure, and making sure she was dosed up enough for several hours of sleep (at which point the crisis would likely be over, one way or another), Will had bundled up first his baby sister and then himself and run them back to their house. He'd deposited Holly in her room and then gone about the business of locking all the doors and windows, drawing all the shades, and having as few lights on as possible. Some gut instinct told him to try and not draw attention to their presence there that night, and if there was one thing both of his parents had taught him about that sort of gut instinct, it was that you listened to it. Of course doing all of that had taken less than two minutes, and so for the last several he'd been alternating between light snacking (just the healthy stuff his mother kept insisting he stick with), sipping some weak coffee (that his father thought his teenage body was ready to handle), and quick-surfing television channels. He was nervous and wired and the caffeine was, if anything, smoothing out his frayed nerves (at least for now). He felt like he was forgetting something, or that something was going to happen, but it was maddeningly vague what it might be. Until his innate sense of kinetic motion picked up movement outside the back door, right before he opened it to toss the trash bag into the garbage can. For about 1.5 seconds he stood there, frozen in fear, as his psycho-kinetic awareness (as the teachers at Claremont kept insisting it was called) picked up at least three adult humans or near-humans moving around outside. And if he didn't miss his guess, at least two were armed. 'Probably not Nerf guns.' he thought sardonically to himself as he oh-so-carefully placed the trash bag on the floor next to the door. As soon as that was done he was invisible, light bending around his body with but a whisper of his own thoughts to prompt it. In two heartbeats he was by the side of his sister's bed, crouching down to wrap her snugly in a blanket, the invisibility fading somewhat but extending over the sleeping psychic as well. He had a moment of panic as he considered where to take her, before remembering probably the best spot in the house for now. A few breaths later he was in the corner of the darkened room where his parents went over footage and edited tapes. It had only one external window (currently covered by curtains and a stack of boxes and equipment) and only one door; further, the pile of boxes in the back corner proved a halfway-decent (if not ideal) hiding spot for Holly, who thankfully was sleeping peacefully at this time. Will set her down in the little nook, then gently moved a couple of boxes to mostly cover her. Between the shadows, the boxes, the remote location, and the ambient noise from all the computers and monitors and tape machines, it was the best he was going to get. Now to take care of these...prowlers. He had only just made it back to the back door and fully cloaked once again when (surprisingly to Will) the lock was picked and the door gently opened. Perhaps they somewhat feared the residents. Good. He was about to show them why no one came after his family. But before he began moving, he heard something that made his heart nearly stop; one of the intruders (all wearing very tacticool black uniforms) speaking into a headset. "We've entered the domicile. No sign of the primary target, or the secondary. Please confirm, do you wish both captured?" There was a pause, then the man continued, speaking in low tones to the others. "HQ confirms, the girl's our primary, we bag and tag her. Nothing permanent, especially to the head; they want that brainpower of hers for later. Her brother's a target of opportunity. If we can bag him, fine, but they're happy with a bodybag. Said he's too old to wipe and reprint, but he might be fun to pick apart." So they were here to dissect/vivisect him, and brainwash his sister. Well, that let him know what urgency this was. Now if only his parents weren't busy keeping the entire planet from dying. Will was just unselfish enough to know he couldn't in any way risk contacting them; it might doom his sister all the more. Instead he opted to stay silent and invisible as a total of 8 not-solders crept into the house. A half-dozen of them were armed, but the last two had no visible weapons, which worried him almost as much as their somewhat-enlarged statures. Probably rent-a-bricks (as his father sometimes called them), though they didn't look that tough. He waited until the tailing mercenaries (what else could they be but guns-for-hire?) was far enough into the back room, then he quickly closed the door. If he could have locked it, he would have. As-is he settled for quickly moving over to another section of the room and speaking directly into the minds of the men in black in his house. --You picked the wrong job tonight.-- The men tensed up, but it wasn't fast enough. Before they could cry out, two of the men were crumpling to the ground, both knees on both of them fractured from high-speed impacts. As they crumpled to the ground, brief flashes of green light flared. The man who had been talking on the radio gagged as his groin received a half-dozen impacts from what felt like hardwood escrima sticks at approximately the speed of a car on the highway, right before all of them present heard the *crack* of facial bones fracturing from something hitting each of his cheeks in turn at a similar speed. He fell like a sack of wet rice. At this point, perhaps 10 seconds had gone by. The other men were reacting, but just weren't fast enough. Will, on the other hand, was. He rushed past two of the men, slamming blows into their ankles that had them starting to crumple while he clotheslined two more at a speed that would leave them bruised for a week or more. The men with ankle and knee injuries were still conscious, and thus dangerous. Blurred strikes to their solar plexus followed by barrages of torso, neck, and head strikes left them all insensate, and practically piled on each other. Up to about 45 seconds now; enough time for the last two men to end up back to back...holding up their fists? Will zipped into a far corner of the room and crouched, completely invisible. He frowned, then rushed at one of them...And his escrima sticks bounced off skin and muscle that was harder than normal. His gaze tightened a bit, but he knew how to deal with this. Now, normally he wouldn't be so...aggressive...in his assault, but between the stress of Holly's spontaneous Cthonic worship service, the fear of seeing her so utterly panicked, the fear of knowing his parents were helping defend the world, the fear of these men killing him and stealing his baby sister, and the stupid voice pressing at the back of his head for the last several hours that just would not SHUT UP, he was in a place that would honestly make normal Will more than a bit uncomfortable. Still, he wasn't seeking to kill anyone. But his mind was in a place where he was willing to cause pain and maybe some fear. Part of his self struggled to rein in that impulse, but it wasn't entirely successful. So the two low-level powerhouse metas suddenly started experiencing stabs in non-vital areas. Primarily their (rather obvious) muscles, which had the effect of a lot of pain and increasing difficulty performing actions, but a fairly low level of risk of immediately bleeding out. This happened about a half-dozen times, leaving several small bleeding wounds on the now-confused men. After all, they couldn't see either attacker or weapon, and the only sounds were the rush of air around them and the sounds of impact and pain. Suddenly there was, for lack of a better term, a staff of light spinning next to them. It struck each of them in ankle, then knee, then groin, then hip, then solar plexus, then throat, and finally at their temples. As they started to fall on their own, they were helped down by a spin of the bar of glowing energy that struck their legs, sweeping them out from under them. Their fall accelerated, and the whole group of mercenaries were left as boneless heaps upon the ground. A minute passed, and a young man faded into visibility. He was obviously a bit tired, and his face was somewhere between "scowl" and "pain". But that faded into a slight smile as he released his energy weapon, which faded into green wisps and motes of light before disappearing entirely. With a sigh, he turned to go to the video room... And howled in pain as he felt a thick needle jab into his left bicep, though he was able to almost immediately yank it out. He suddenly felt dull around the edges, and stumbled away from the fading-into-view attacker, his vision blurring for a moment before resolving. It was a slightly-built man, not even as large as Will himself, dressed in a getup similar to the mercenaries. The figure "tsked" and tossed the half-spent syringe over to one side, where it rolled over to the wall. "I suppose the old saying about doing things right yourself holds true still. Oh well. It's somewhat enjoyable to stay in the proverbial game. I must say I'm terribly impressed with your methods overall. Desperation must be such a wonderful motivator. But sadly..." Suddenly the man leaped into the air, before landing and sticking to the ceiling! He began to fade from sight with an almost hissing chuckle. "It won't be enough. I'll find your preciousss little sister, secure her for my client, and then deal with you. Meanwhile, that wonderful cocktail of power suppressors and tranquilizers should take care of you quiet handily." With a start, Will realized his speed was lessened, and he couldn't focus enough to either fade from sight, or even produce a burst of light! He could still run fast, and he could still make his blades, but the latter were quite fuzzy, and his super-keen spatial sense was "fuzzy", making the former a bit more dangerous. But none of that mattered. Holly was still in danger, invisible stalking wall-crawler or no. "Not..gonna let you!" He blurred into the kitchen, crouching behind the island with the stovetop. He clenched his eyes shut and tried to focus his kinetic-energy-based sense. The roaring of the alien presence above his head, around the world, and out further still, made it harder to think straight at all. Especially with his own psychic defenses reduced. But he grit his teeth and focused....there! He was a blur of motion, and a single blade tried to stab at his target. But there was another hissing laugh, and he only gouged sheet rock. "Hehehehe! You've got quite the determination there boy, fighting that injection like that!" Will just frowned....and closed his eyes. He kept his ears sharp, and kept focusing that still-fuzzy picture his mind was generating of the room. He tensed, then dodged to the side as a knife lodged itself in the floor. 'Mom and Dad are going to flip about all this damage.' he thought sardonically to himself. "Yessss, your little sister will make such a nice student at the Academy. So loyal. So powerful. So obedient. Her mind will in turn bend other minds, and the Academy will grow. And your body will prove most interesting to the doctors, oh yes." Will stayed still and waited for many long seconds. Then he actually smiled! "Let's see if she's in her room..." The hissing sneaker moved upstairs, and Will waited only a moment to dash up there, beating him by just a bit. "You'll never have her!" He hoped he wasn't over-selling it. The laughter in reply, and the sudden weight on his back, said that he hadn't. "Hoho, I think I'll just take care of you no-ACK!" That was the sound of a man being slammed into a wall at super-speed. Then there was the sizzle of unstable escrima sticks forming in the boy's hands. "Not today-" And then Will said a couple words his parents would probably scold him for later, before proceeding to break several bones in the snake-man's body and leave him covered in bruises. The man collapsed...and Will staggered over against the opposite wall. His powers were zooming in and out. His mind was all fuzz and rage and pain. The house was compromised. And his parents were so unavailable, it hurt. So it was only natural he gathered all his strength and gave himself a migraine sending a psychic shout all the way to Florida, arriving in the brain of one Anna Cline. --GRAMMA HELP IT'S WILL I'M HURT ME AND HOLLY ARE IN TROUBLE MOM AND DAD CAN'T COME SAVING WORLD PLEASE HELP-- She was probably going to have a headache from that.... Nevertheless, it didn't take more than 3 minutes, 27.8923444 seconds for Anna Cline to come racing into the house, breathing heavily, swords in hand. She took stock of the damage to the building, the unconscious mercenaries, before finally finding the barely-conscious and now-spasming Will. It appeared he was starting to overload with kinetic energy. She shook him awake, and within 2 seconds he managed to get his powers under control, albeit having to run several dozen laps around the house in a few seconds to bleed off power. Once that was done, he gave Anna the mental Cliff's Notes as they retrieved Holly and Anna checked both of them over. Holly was, of course, fine, being still asleep (and still power-suppressed). Will had cuts and bruises and the needle puncture mark. He made sure to emphasize the mention of this "Shadow Academy" to his grandmother, hoping she might know who they were. Somewhere in the midst of Will looking after his sister and grabbing himself a big snack, Anna made a call to a group of old friends...

So this is something I've noticed a lot of us have. And on several folks, there's information entered there. Mine is blank, and I can't seem to find it as an edit-able option in my Profile. How do I set this? Or is it set by an Admin/Ref?

Nevermore's countenance was inhuman, no trace of skin showing through. His mask's eyes glowed a harsh green in the smoke and steam surrounding him. Nonetheless, the mercenaries got the sense he was less than happy. The way he casually slammed a punch into the side of the barely-conscious woman's neck to knock her all the way down and out was probably a clue, too. "Murderers." And then suddenly he was whirling motion, crouching before delivering a devastating uppercut to the man on his right, weaving around the probing attacks from all three gun-mounted stun guns. The blow struck the man in the sternum, the force being delivered even through what felt like military-grade body armor. "Cowards. Don't even have the resolve to risk your own life for your goal. Weak. Easily broken." He, uh, wasn't happy. On the flip side, Endeavor could tell that he was probably going to be able to handle all of the grounded mercenaries on his own!

Incidentally, Nevermore probably wouldn't have reacted like this if there hadn't been a gunmurderkill already. But he saw that, and kinda flipped a bit.

Right then. Melee Attack vs Staggered Merc: 20. That...probably hits? DC 21 Toughness Save. I'm going to assume it probably drops that merc in which case I'll roll for a Takedown Attack. If that won't come into play let me know: I'll hold off on posting IC until we're for-sure on this. Takedown Attack vs Merc on Nevermore's Right: 25. That should definitely hit. DC 21 Toughness Save.

With Aquaria translating the inscriptions let's see what that gets Cobalt Templar! Knowledge (Arcane Lore): 22. Knowledge (History): 20. Kinda wish both had been higher, but they're both high enough I don't want to burn HP on them. Hopefully this nets some results!

Oh, I'm up again? Um, okay. Let's see. 1.) Are these mercs Minions, or no? 2.) What status is the merc I hit in?

Sun Walker eyed the newcomer. He had not the extensive knowledge of myths and magic that many here had (a lack he really should work to remedy), and sadly he was not yet quite as experienced in reading people as many here were. But even his comparatively naïve eyes could behold the wickedness in human form that was before them. He saw the reactions of the others at this being's name. And he saw the despair of Meatheral at the mere presence of this person. Quietly, his tail slowly unwinding from his waist and making a few agitated lashes behind his back, he stepped until he was next to the fiery hero. He reached one hand out as if to put it on the other hero's shoulder, but drew it back. Probably because of the fire. His voice came out with surprising strength, and his eyes remained locked on this "Typhon". "If there is one lesson I have learned from what studies I have made of my honored ancestor, it is that "impossible" is a very relative word. Typhon is but one against our many. All of us are strong. Perhaps he is the father of monsters." Sun Walker paused, and when he next spoke, it was as if the velvet had been drawn back from the steel. "But we are those who strike down the monsters. So too shall we overcome this foe."

Hoboy this is gonna be awesome. Gabriel Initiative: 24. Remember, Gabe's down 1 HP from his normal starting total since I burned one earlier for Ultimate Intimidate. So I believe that leaves him with 5HP at this time. Which is good, he's about to burn through some more... EDIT: AA, how many bees are backing up Gabe, GK, and Tia?

At this point Gabriel looked like someone had fed him an expired jalapeno pickle. He closed his eyes and took a half dozen breaths (not too deep, even with all the flowers) to calm himself. "I'd rather send the entire League through with an Army division and a handful of nuclear weapons. But failing that, this is probably our best option. We'll drive out the vermin on this side while you tear them down on the other side." He opened his eyes and gave them a serious stare. "Be safe. We'll see you both when we're all done. Now, go with God." He ignored the irony of saying such a thing to Comrade Frost and made the sign of the Cross toward both of them.

Nothing says all the GM-related questions have to be answered publicly, Rav. They're just things I/we think you should ponder while preparing this.

I don't recall the bonus associated with a Surprise Attack. I'll just roll with my normal bonuses, and anything extra can be added in later. I think this time around we'll go for a bog-standard melee attack. Attack Roll: 12. Sigh, of course. Doing a Hero Point Reroll. Reroll: 12. That's just silly. But with the reroll that's a 22, which should hopefully hit. That'll be a DC 21 Toughness Save. Oh, and Initiative: 19. Orokos proves to be as cruel as Invisible Castle.