GranspearZX

"Control, huh? I can kind of help with that, maybe. Kind of had to learn it the hard way myself. Meditation, martial arts... I've got a lot of hobbies that help me focus. A fight triggered my magic the first time, but I've gotten a lot better since then; that was about two years ago. Maybe I always had it, but it kind of forced its way to the surface." Marcus always wondered about that--whether the Beast Rune had actually forced itself on him or if it was the magic simply responding to his desperation at the time. For all he knew, it could have been both. "But... it could've just been stress. That was the same night my dad got arrested." He wasn't sure if Elias knew what his father had done. The pictures of his father under the influence of the Beast Rune were downright scary. He definitely got the sense that Elias was leaving stuff out... but he couldn't really blame him at all. Marcus was still largely a stranger to him, after all.

Tagged! For reasons!

Visiting Port Regal had never really crossed Arc's mind. Oddly enough, the first inkling that something might be 'off' with the area at all was a post on a forum he frequented. It was the same way he'd learned about the demon summoner in Pennsylvania. Just like before, he was investigating it--what ever it was--alone. He kind of hoped it was nothing and that he could go back to studying. All he really knew about the place was that the Providence Asylum was somewhere around it. Just entering the area made him feel a little uncomfortable, though Marcus couldn't place it on instinct or something genuinely amiss. It was only vaguely familiar, as he'd been to the amusement park once or twice in the past year. He had his mask and uniform on--something he still wasn't completely used to. This time, however, he was wearing Claremont colors, and he'd made it a point to make some 'modifications' to it so that it wouldn't be shredded if he had to use the Beast Rune. Walking around in bear form seemed fun, but there was no reason to scare people who already looked even more on edge than he felt.

"Which one of these losers took your wallet, son?" "H-huh? Oh..." He pointed at one of the floored thugs, who had been unfortunate enough to have taken the thick, blunted edge of Crusader's shield right in the temple before he'd even realized what was happening. The wallet was on the ground next to him. Crusader picked it up and tossed it over to the young man, his gaze moving from the car to the young man again. By the time Crusader tossed his wallet over to the victim, he had his cell phone out--taking a picture of the scene before dialing 911. Crusader sighed. These kids and their priorities, man... Crusader's hand twitched at the sound of a door swinging open, obnoxiously loud music pouring out of a bar less than half a block down. Patrons with black vests bearing a similar logo to that of the four he'd already dispatched came wandering out, and almost immediately took notice of the red-and-white clad hero standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by four unconscious club mates. Yeah, I knew that was too easy.

"We really do have that in common then. I feel a lot more in control when I'm not in the city, too. As far as that whole psychic thing though... that was sort of my fault to begin with. I was following a guy, thought my magic had me completely hidden. Didn't think to make my mind undetectable, too, so the second we were alone..." Marcus felt a little bit nauseated just thinking about it. Thankfully there had been more experienced heroes around to find him. He hated the idea of him being rescued, and he hated his oversight even more. Instead, he chose to focus on Elias--it was easier to deal with his problems, after all, by helping to solve someone else's. "The city's a pretty interesting place if you give it a chance. Weird stuff happens, but at least it's not boring." Marcus stuffed his hands into his pockets. "So when did you first figure out what you could do?" He figured it was an innocent enough question. Besides, he figured exchanging that particular story might help them both.

"Huh." Marcus paused for a moment... and then he laughed. "Well, you've got me there. Lord knows I don't have it all figured out... This time last year I was wondering if I'd even be able to control what it is I can do. Besides, our esteemed teachers know I have a thing about psychics." He paused for a moment, remembering those few days he'd spent in Pennsylvania. He shuddered a little bit at the thought of being mind-controlled; it was a feeling he couldn't readily forget, even nearly a year later. "Not sure if you heard about that... and I'm not saying you do that sort of thing, either. I spend a lot of time in my own head sometimes, so it's already weird when someone else is in there with me." Marcus stopped long enough to look at Elias, his head tilting a bit. "Um... what are you doing?"

...wow. x_x Then... yes! Attack Roll (Strike 5): (1d20+10=15)

Crusader

Table of Contents! Reputation Chart Wiki Entry 20Q HellQ

Whoops! Well, instead of delaying his action, Crusader will feint--using Acrobatic Bluff instead of his Bluff skill. Feint (Acrobatic Bluff): (1d20+12=26)

"I was born in Chicago, but... pretty much lived here my whole life." Marcus smiled faintly; it was amusing to think about just how different he was only two years ago. The transition wasn't easy. He was so angry for so long over the loss of his former life that he wasn't looking at the larger picture. His innate magical ability had opened his eyes to, in a very literal sense, whole worlds of possibility. He'd even met with an alternate universe version of himself, as much sense as that made. "I guess they want us to hang out together because we've got things in common. But I'm not really the type to go digging around someone's personal business, y'know?" He rubbed at the back of his neck, adjusting the collar of his hockey jersey a little. He could have gone into Elias's parents as well as his own, but he certainly wasn't about to bring that up if Elias wasn't comfortable talking about it. After all, he still gave people withering looks whenever they brought up his parents sometimes. "I'm really not the mentor type. Still, you seem like a pretty okay guy. If I can help you out, just let me know, hm?"

"You want me to... what?" The summer had mellowed Marcus Irons out a great deal. The sporadic teenager prone to fits of rage was now a young adult prone to fits of rage, albeit far less often than before. His instructors were right in that his magical ability was starting to find a happy medium between his human and animal forms, though the weirdness hadn't stopped yet. He'd never really hung around Lincoln much. Even before his powers manifested, he was a student at FDR High School. He had a few friends that went to Lincoln, but he'd since fallen out of touch with them. The story of my life, I guess. Still, hanging out with Elias--someone actually more introverted than himself--was going to be a challenge. Slowly but surely, the teachers at Claremont had been pushing him to be a little more social, even going so far as to have him train with other students. Marcus didn't like being manipulated, but he had to admit that it was actually working. He didn't even immediately flip out when they told him Elias was a telepath. Marcus was walking; there wasn't anything in the world that could get him on a skateboard. If it didn't have a motor, Marcus tended to stay as far away from it as possible. One of them was going to have to say something eventually, and Marcus was notoriously bad at small talk. Still, he gave it his best shot. "So..." Inwardly, Marcus cringed at how canned and rehearsed just that simple word sounded. "They wanted us to get to know each other, I guess. Are you from around here or...?" It was as good a place to start as any.

Crusader's going to delay his action until the end of this round, after Gunroll.

Crusader was more than concerned by this walking arsenal of a woman. Beating up on a woman didn't exactly sit well with him, even if she was carrying that much hardware. Still, he was certain he hadn't made a mistake in striking first, shield at the ready as he shouted at her from behind his cover. If nothing else, he was attempting to draw her attention towards him as much as possible. He was used to fighting in close quarters and was surprisingly adept at avoiding friendly fire. He knew that wasn't exactly all his training, however--he had the 8th Crusader to thank for that particular set of skills. "Walk away, lady. You're only gonna get one chance." Crusader leaped out from behind his cover, high up into the air. He wound up and let the shield fly again, this time arcing his swing downward far more than he had to. The shield looked like it was about to nail her squarely in the head, but its curve guided it around to her right, bouncing hard against the ground before returning to the crimson-clad hero's arm.

Clark didn't go very far. He didn't want to leave the injured figure undefended when he was clearly worried about what this second assailant might do in order to keep him silent. Taking a calculated risk, Crusader lifted the man by his shoulders and dragged him further out of sight, behind the structure his bestial form had been ripping apart for ammunition. Once there, he frowned a bit as the King of Suits's card seemed to leave the figure unharmed. Right. My turn then. He sent his shield flying through the air towards its target and it soared through the air back to Crusader's waiting arm. He grimaced a little as he caught it, absently reminded of how major league pitchers might feel during a game.

Crusader moves to cover as well, throwing his shield (Strike 5, Thrown): Attack Roll (Strike 5, Thrown) (1d20+10=15) And he misses as well. Bleargh.

Crusader's Initiative: (1d20+7=15)

Clark Noble wasn't exactly a young man, but he wasn't old either; he ran across the rooftops with a surprising amount of ease, reaching the site of the blaze in a short amount of time. It wasn't at all what he'd expected; rather than a building being on fire, it was a small four-door sedan with its mangled hood open and the engine block was wreathed in flames. Less than 30 feet away were a crowd of about four bikers surrounding a hapless-looking man, his clothes covered in dirt from the asphalt on which he was lying. The laughter from the four made Crusader's eyes narrow to dangerous proportions. "T-that's all the money I have!" "Yeah, we heard you the first time," one of the bikers chuckled, shoving the man back to the ground with a booted foot as he tried to stand up. "We ain't done with you yet." There were no words wasted. Crusader removed the shield from his back and wound up, sending the impervium disc flying down at the group with a carefully aimed toss. The shield bounced forcefully between the four of them, rather merciless in the way it moved, knocking each of them to the ground before returning to the Crusader's hand. "...no, I think you all are done after all."

November 2, 2012 There was a definite chill in the night air as the red-and-white costumed hero known as the Crusader darted from one rooftop to another. Some people argued that patrolling in this manner was looking for trouble; Clark couldn't entirely dispute the claim. He was always happier when his nights were largely uneventful, though. Punching mobsters did bring him a degree of satisfaction, but there were days when it just felt like trying to empty an ocean with a teaspoon. He could just imagine how cops felt... Then again, he had no real powers of his own, so he wasn't that much different. Crusader slowed his rooftop run and stopped at the edge of one of the taller buildings in the Fens, overlooking the area. He quietly took inventory of himself; all he really had was his costume and his shield. It was all he felt he needed before, but now, he felt like he was starting to expand into something else. He wasn't sure what yet... but it scratched at the edge of his mind like a forgotten dream, not unlike when he'd helped out the King of Suits. There was much, much more out there than thugs and vagabonds. Every threat was real, though, and he was starting to feel less than prepared. Introverted thought, however, would have to wait--Crusader rubbed absently at his nose, smelling something burning from further downwind. A glance in that direction revealed a growing plume of smoke rising from an area further in the distance. God I hope that's just a trashcan fire.

Solo-ish thread for Crusader, in which some angry bikers get beat up. Fun for all ages! Might take on one other person for the heck of if; feel free to ask!

Crusader listened carefully, brow furrowed in thought. He had no idea who this 'Dr. Green' person was, but he was fairly certain that he was responsible for turning this man into a rampaging monster. What worried him most was the 'other one' that was going to be coming for King of Suits, confirming his suspicion that this incident was far from over. That didn't sit well with him at all. Clark had never been the sort to walk away from someone in need. And as capable as the King of Suits seemed to be, he didn't want to leave anything to chance. He grunted and nodded slowly as the man slipped back into unconsciousness. Clark looked back up at the King of Suits and nodded. "Sounds like somebody's got a grudge. A serious one. Maybe we sh-..." Crusader quickly cut himself off, straightening up a little bit as the sound of gravel-disturbing footsteps pierced the otherwise silent night air. There really was no good reason for anyone else to be out in an abandoned railyard, which immediately put him on edge. He wasn't sure getting into another fight was the best idea in the world, but he didn't want to risk moving an injured man; he could only guess that he'd given the poor guy a mild concussion. "Company," he whispered, remaining crouched as he looked in the direction of the sound...

Arcturus 9 PP to spend I'm going to un-array Enhanced Strength and Super-Strength (might as well be able to use both at once!)... -1 PP to drop the Alternate Power. 10 PP for Super-Strength 4 + Bracing and Groundstrike. Also, clarified Super Senses (Detect Magic) to point out what sense is being used. DO YOU HAVE ANY BEAR CLAWS?'D by GIZMO Crusader: 2 PP to spend 1 PP to add the Move-by Action feat. 1 PP to increase the rank of Speed to Speed 2 (25 mph / 220 ft. per round) Also, a small cosmetic change: Affiliations should read "The Vanguard" rather than "The Sentinels". FEATS RECOUNTED by GIZMO

"You want to do what?" Crusader was no diplomat, but he certainly didn't condone killing or even permanently injuring a criminal. There was no particular love lost between him and some of the shadier, underground elements of the city, but even then he would usually restrain himself. As they made their way back to the unconscious man, Crusader looked around at the goblins still scattered around the railyard. So those are for real. Wow. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that this little party was unrelated to what you were looking for." Crusader rubbed at the back of his neck, considering King of Suits's next question. "How? ...heh. Came to me in a dream." There really was no other way to explain it. Shifting his shield from his arm to across his back, he knelt down on the other side of the injured figure, ears and eyes open for anything else that might be around.

Knight, huh? There was a brief flash of something he couldn't quite grasp at the periphery of his memory. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it felt like something he should have picked up on and remained out of his mental reach. Though it only lasted a few moments, he looked like he'd spaced out entirely in that short amount of time. "Ah! Heh, sorry... call me Crusader." He knelt down beside the unconscious man long enough to examine him. He was no medical expert, but he knew enough to be able to tell that he was still breathing. The scars concerned him more, though any clue they might have given as to how he'd gone from his current form to his previous one and back again was completely lost on him. He wasn't about to let the King of Suits out of his sight, however. That sense of urgency hadn't quite left him yet. "What were you doing out here anyway?" It seemed like a pertinent question. He wasn't trying to be accusatory, but somehow he felt that preventative measures needed to be taken.

"Well. That's not normal at all." Crusader didn't so much as feel guilty as he stood up, looking down at the unconscious and nearly naked figure. Those other goblins had disappeared entirely, but this one... human. It bothered him in ways he hadn't anticipated; to distract himself, he turned to the man he'd rescued. "We should get this guy an ambulance... What about you? Are you okay?" He flashed an encouraging smile, despite everything about the situation that remained firmly fixed in the realm of the unknown. Clark didn't really understand why he'd felt so urgently that this man needed saving--granted, if he had been in the area without any prompting, he would have helped anyway. The dream he'd had was still something of a blur, but that feeling of urgency and creeping despair remained. There was more to this than the life of one man. He could feel it.