Azuth65

1d20+11=23

Vicky pulled her head back into the vehicle, her hair blown into a complete mess by the helicopter's downwash. She reached into a pocket, pulling a hair tie out and worked her hair into a quick if messy ponytail. "Two of the armored cars have been take, multiple hostiles, armed with automatic weapons, hostages. The guy with the earpiece is guiding the last helo to the final truck." Reaching into the floorspace she grabbed her messenger bag, commenting with a smirk, "You suit up while I slip into something more comfortable?" Unless John had a plan that required blending in with the civilians she was ready to pull her teleport-into-costume trick then and there before ruining the terrorist's afternoon.

1d20+14=30 Notice all the things!

Vicky breathed a sigh of relief that John was alright, "I'm fine. Ish, I think I'll be picking glass out of my hair and clothes for a few days. But, not as bad as my first date with Morgan so, there's that." The young teleporter scooted back towards her side of the crashed vehicle and punched the remains of the window out so she could stick her head out and look around without being sliced to ribbons. The handful of small gashes she accumulated on her arms stung like tiny hornet stings but closed themselves quickly. Thank God for quick-healing, she thought to self as she peered out.

Vicky shook her head, bits and pieces of broken glass falling from her snowy hair. She reached over to the ruins of the cab's passenger seat pinning John down, her hands had several small cuts that had healed by the time she was able to touch the broke seat. With only a minor effort of her superhuman strength she was able to lift the remains seat off her friend, pushing it almost through the shattered windshield. As she freed her teammate she heard him starting to return to consciousness.

I suppose the smart thing to do would be have Vicky move that front seat. Go go Ultima super-strength! If John's looking like he'll be out for a bit, she might stunt a healing effect.

"Just a little," Vicky admitted. "As for particular courses I'm involved in the creative writing classes and sequential art as well as some computer graphics stuff." As Serge described his friend's drawing habits she had to smile a little, "Reminds me when I first started actually. It took forever to get to my current level and working with Mona and Lou over at Archemedia, it makes me see I'm nowhere near the top. And going through paper like popcorn? I've got a few binders thicker than the entire Harry Potter series full of old sketches and half-finished graphic novel projects, some of which might end up being revisited down the line."

Answering Mona's question a bit of embarrassed color came to Vicky's cheeks, "Well, admittedly the comment came from a special the History Channel had on zombies but after watching another documentary on the smallpox outbreak in Montreal in eighteen-eighty-five, I think rapid warning of and sharing of case files may well save hundred to thousands of lives." The young artist quirked an eyebrow at his comments about fighting some of the heroes in Russia, "My mother's told me stories about some of the heroes she worked with back in Moscow. She also shared the story of why I've never met her brother, my uncle Nikolai. She defected about twenty-five years ago but she went back for a visit after the formation of the Russian Federation, it didn't go well. She and uncle Nikolai came to blows which, when you're talking about a meta-human and a guy with power armor, takes on a whole new meaning..." The Cape Watch description sent a shiver down her spine. "As if I didn't have enough trouble keeping my identity a secret," she groaned. "I really need to get my hands on some sort of hologram projector or something. Doubly so if we're doing a panel at a major convention like New York." Her own mentioning of New York brought her back on topic, "Tuesday afternoon? Sure, I can be in the office by three-fifteen. Earlier if I can talk to my teacher and just duck right out of study hall. Half the time I only end up using it for work anyway," she answered. "As for remaining incognito, I can probably get a bottle of hair dye similar to my pre-breakout color and claim eye-strain for wearing sunglasses during the convention." Answering Joe she smiled brilliantly, "Oh it is, one of the big ones on the East Coast. It doesn't get as much coverage as San Diego or Emerald City but it doesn't have every form of media debuting things either. Still, huge first step for the company."

As requested in chat, one notice check. 1d20+14=26

Silver Spider A Convocation of Eagles High Tech on Low Tide High Towers Leave Only Wreckage, Take Only... Siphon Yanks in Tanks Wisp Being Yourself Contracts & Chopsticks Red Flag Spanner in the Works GM High Tech on Low Tide (apply to Silver) Red Flag (apply to Wisp)

Vicky eyed the armored cars briefly, vehicles, military or otherwise, had never been her thing so she wasn't able to tell much beyond they were blocking the sun. "It's working out pretty well. I will admit, it is nice being paid for the drawings I was doing anyway. Plus her letter of recommendation helped with my acceptance into FreeSA's art program. The only downside is I have an actual schedule to keep my drawing to now," she finished with a small shrug. "How 'bout you, how was the overseas trip?" she asked, not sure what exactly it had entailed and she wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with his 'father', thus something not to be shared in a cab.

Vicky adjusted her sunglasses, trying not to be alarmed by the near reckless driving of the cabby John had hailed, "Not a problem John." She placed a hand idly on the bag from the shopping, glad she'd been able to use a coupon that had been about to expire with her friend's gift. At his comment about breaking in the new console, she had to smile. Her old one had shorted out after a recent thunderstorm and this one was a significant upgrade in memory storage. "So, how should we break the new system in, a bunch of movies over dinner or split-screen deathmatch in one of the shooters I've got?" Her stomach let out a quiet rumble at the mention of food, "There's a few places that deliver by me, the pizza place's drivers and Chinese delivery guys know me by name. There's also an Italian and a Russian place where we're just at the edge of their delivery range."

Walking towards the beige doorway next to the dock, one of the men could be heard grumbling loudly to his companion, "Come on Vinny, how come we gotta do this? These damned boxes are heavy and I know we got a bunch of guys sitting around doing nothing back at the club." Vinny turned and eyed his cohort, "Because, Al, the Boss said for us to bring him the crates and no witnesses. It's easier to move some of the Owens shipment ourselves than get anyone else to do it." The comments caught Jennifer's attention, especially when her company's name was mentioned. Waiting for the pair to enter the building, Silver Spider swung down from a line of web and crept over to the blind side of the truck.

1d20+8=21-1=20, bruised and dazed.

1d20+6=21. Siphon sez: My skull is harder than your spanner. Next time, try a laser spanner or some kind of screwdriver...

Vicky added to Serge's comment about the fuss, "The first time I brought anyone over for dinner my parents did pretty much this only the voices were in Russian and English." She gave a quiet chuckle, recalling how surprised they had been when she'd asked about inviting a bunch of classmates over for dinner. "I think every family goes through this exact scenario at some point." Answering the questions about the school year she shrugged, "Last year was nice but I'm looking forward to my first classes at FreeSA this fall. Not sure who much of an impact they'll have on my extra-curriculars but I do enjoy a challenge." His last comments however caught her attention, more his blushing and trying, poorly, to hide it than anything else. She assumed it was probably something involving a girl but she wasn't going to push. Glancing at Serge the look she shot him was a gentle and subtle one to let it go for now, "No worries. We're here for ya."

Silver Spider shook her head and growled at herself for letting herself get sucker-punched like that. The young woman, using the web-shooter on her left wrist to pull her into the air, tucked into a quick roll and tried to aim with her right for her opponent's eyes. She unleashed a short stream of sticky chemicals, which missed her attacker by a good several inches. Landing in a defensive crouch she mentally grumbled, Okay, once this is over I'm checking the calibrations on these things. There is no reason I should have missed this badly twice.

Move action: Acrobatic bluff. 1d20+10=16, well that sucked. Standard action: Dazzle on Ricochet 1d20+8=20..., damn.

Jen shrugged, "I don't think he got much further than 'I can make a fake golem and cash in on tons of religious hype' when he cooked up the plan. But it wasn't terribly dangerous. The robot was big and could punch a hole through a brick wall but it was slow and clumsy. At the time, knowing one false move could leave me a literal smear was pretty scary but in retrospect, all I had to do was run and dodge to buy time." Looking over the list of available goodies the girl replied, "Probably vanilla with brownie pieces, maybe some hot fudge, in a waffle cone."

Vicky nudged the messenger bag she habitually carried with the toe of one white shoe, "My suit's in the bag, I pretty much never leave home without it. Not since the subway incident..." Running a hand through her snowy hair she sighed, "Plus, I had to do some running around before getting here. Mona wanted to discuss my working on something special for the next anthology her company's publishing." "Mostly longer jumps," she replied, "But the only thing really harder about going five miles compared to a couple football fields is having more calories stored up to burn for the actual jump. Subito's seen my breakfasts after a good morning workout back at Claremont and they make those giant meals that if you can finish it's free look like a fun-size candy nugget compared to a normal bar."

1d20+8=11 Yeah, I'm not being knocked out in round one . HP use, 1d20+8=12+10=22. Bruised.

Vicky absentmindedly fiddled with the lacing on her favorite white blouse. "Not really. Then again, I did sort of cheat in getting here," she said with a slight smirk, looking over dark tinted sunglasses and winking one black and red eye. Sticking her hands in the pockets of her black slacks she leaned against the wall, she was somewhat regretting the choice of footwear already. Note to self; ignore Janis when buying shoes, she mentally groused as she fidgeted one foot in the pumps she wore.

Vicky sipped her soda as she listened to Joe's story, thinking it would make for an interesting recurring character (after a few alterations for a dungeon punk fantasy comic) for an upcoming plot she had half-written. "The downside of a worldwide, nigh-instant communications network. Cable news networks, cameraphones, YouTube, freaking Twitter... Secrecy is pretty much dead in the twenty-first century," the artist added. "Then again, I saw one documentary that suggested Twitter and Facebook would be some of the more useful tools in fighting a plague." Turning in her seat to look her boss in the eyes, she returned the fierce grin, "That's great Mona! So then, did they just want you on the panel? Or did they want Lou and I there too?"

Voltage and Silver Spider break up mobsters theft of Owens Enterprises tech. Let's see what kind of shenanigans the geniuses can get up to...

Oh no you aren't, Silver Spider thought to herself as she double-checked her wrist-mounted weapons, making sure a cartridge of Weaponized Epoxy Binding she had loaded was full. As the one seeming to be giving the orders started past she stepped out and let loose a stream of the chemical fluid towards his feet. Unfortunately for her, he moved too quickly and instead of gumming up his feet she left a small pile of quickly drying goo that looked like a batch of cobwebs that had been piled in one spot.