Hunter in the Forest [IC]

[Ecalsneerg]

Geckoman looked over at Midnight as he lowered the Pitchoo down towards the Wading river. "Ok, you want to have a look around my gadgets, best place to do it is in my Arborealair," he said, pressing a button. "And to do that, we'll need to kick the life support up a notch." On that word, the ship plummeted down into the river, screeching along with the dust whirling in the ship's wake.

"And..." The Pitchoo slid effortlessly into an open hatch somewhere along where the river ran into the forest, the deceleration happening in half a second or so as the hydraulics and cables hefted the ship up into a hangar carved out of rough stone and earth.

Sliding down the Pitchoo's exit hatch, Chris stepped out and pulled off his mask. "Computer, Geckoman checking in, anyone else here?"

<< Current occupants: Spellbound, Location: Workshop>>

Chris tilted his head concedingly. "Fair enough. Trevor, I'd advise going in as Trevor, not Midnight. Not that you're not Midnight, but... well, anyway, Liz is not entirely comfortable with superheroes, for a multitude of reasons. And no, I'd probably not ask how we got an underground HQ built in the forest without anyone noticing."

[Gizmo]

Trevor grunted in subdued consent as his next question was headed off. His grandfather had been able to conceal the creation of the Manor under their family estate by taking advantage of existing subterranean caves and simultaneously renovating the house itself, so it was certainly doable. Removing his beaten fedora briefly, his stowed his featureless black mask in a pocket of his unfastened jacket. The shadowy outfit still might have stood out on the street, but it could easily pass for civilian garb. Placing the hat back atop his dark hair, the young man took rapid inventory of his appearance before producing a pair of sunglasses with oval lenses and putting them on to conceal his ominously discoloured eyes, a precaution he was still getting used to. The transformation complete, he made a small gesture inviting Chris to lead the way.

[Ecalsneerg]

Ugh. Totally not gonna get used to those eyes. Creepy. It's like he's gazing into yo- aw, crap. "Anyway," said Chris, pushing open the door to the main room. "This is the operations centre." The room was an odd mixture of rough soil and metal. The floor around the doorway they'd just exited from was still rough stone, but a large portion of the room was lined with sleek metal sheeting. In one corner sat a huge computer console, with 9 screens arranged around and above each other. At a few parts of the room, metal walkways seemed to lead downwards or up towards the surface again.

"Lizzie?" called Chris. "Trevor's here!" There was no reply for a second, then a voice came from one of the downwards exits.

"I'm in the workshop. Bring me a Coke," came the reply, before a worrying sound of welding and hammering resumed from below.

[Gizmo]

Trevor strode slowly about the massive room, taking note of the extensive equipment. Though he was impressed by the electronic monitoring system, his predilections as a mechanical engineer showed in his greater fascination with the structural design of the cavern. His eyebrows rose slightly from behind the tinted oval lenses of his glasses at the cacophony coming from the workshop below, the sound of tools against metal a veritable siren's call. Stepping away from the catwalk he was examining, he softly asked Chris, "She doesn't remember Lucas'... outburst, correct?" He'd only briefly met the altered version of his classmate's significant other in the grieving father's warped reality, but if Liz recalled encountering 'Kid Midnight', the potential for awkwardness was exponentially more worrying.

[Ecalsneerg]

Chris had disappeared into a small alcove, coming out with a few cans of Coca-Cola. He held one up. "Want one?"

"Anyway, it was just us who remembered that reality. Liz doesn't remember a thing happening," he explained. "So thought you'd prefer the Kid Midnight thing kept on the low-down." He gave a cheeky wink. Heading down the walkway to the workshop, he kept talking as was his way. "In any case, she knows about the Raven thing, so not mentioning it is probably a good idea." He pushed open the thick steel door.

Inside, they were greeted with the site of a very heavily-used workshop. In this room, all the walls were padded and plated, and fire extinguishers lined the walls in various places. To the right of the door, an electric file and some cutters lay with a handful of half-constructed Geckorangs. Car parts and stacks of batteries and piles of scrap metal made the floor a veritable health and safety hazard. On the far side of the room, a girl knelt on a chair by a workbench in jeans and a white tank-top, long brown hair spilling out of the back of a welding mask. Sparks flew as she welded two plates of metal together.

"Hey, Liz!" shouted Chris, picking his way across the floor. He waited a second, then turned to Trevor. "Selective deafness," he explained.

[Gizmo]

Fine by me, Trevor thought to himself as he declined the proffered beverage with a slight shake of his head. The stoic youth didn't care to dwell on Lucas' warped reality any more than was necessary. For one thing, he truly loathed the revised codename Mark's father had bestowed upon him. "I don't make evil robot jokes," he chided absently in a dryly wry tone, not even looking at Chris as he continued to examine the cavern through his tinted lenses, taking mental notes. Stepping into the workshop behind his lizard-themed classmate, he gravitated immediately to one of the piles of automotive parts and began picking through, a surprisingly expressive look of interest passing over his face as he waited for Liz to finish what she was doing.

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz quickly and adeptly finished the welding job, pulling off the goggles and wiping down her brow with a towel as she reached for her can of Coke. "Ok, I'll get it fitted to the car later today," she said, grabbing Chris by the waist and planting a kiss on his lips. "Then you're coming with me to dinner with my mom."

Chris looked panicked for once at this. "Um... is your mom likely to get as aggressive as your dad? I mean, that time with the shotgun and the panic and the whole coffee mug..." His eyes opened wider. "Dear god, that coffee mug..." Liz shook her head as she smiled, producing a list from the back pocket of her jeans.

"She won't hurt you. Well much," she finished with a vague hint of doubt as she tailed off. "Anyway, I need you to go get these things for me."

Geckoman scanned the list briefly and made a face. Then, his eyes looked to Trevor in desperation. "But... guests?" He gesticulated vaguely. Liz pushed him away with one hand, and shook her head, turning to Trevor.

"You're Trevor, the Mid- The smart kid, right?" She had hurriedly caught herself prior to saying 'Midnight', and even more hurriedly kept talking past it. "Well, he's useless, so how about you help me fit a contained fission-fusion reactor to a motorcycle?"

[Gizmo]

Looking up from the pile of parts to give Chris a flat look, he straightened and gave Liz a courteous nod. "Seems overkill," he remarked. "Engine wouldn't use a fraction of the power. On-board weaponry?" Simple traction and framework limited the speed a vehicle could effectively reach without tearing itself - and likely it's rider - apart. Hypothetically, putting a fission-fusion reactor in a bike would be akin to crushing an ant by knocking the moon out of orbit, but the gear Trevor had seen Chris put into action suggested a craftier mind than that behind their design.

[Ecalsneerg]

"No," agreed Liz as she pulled on a pair of coarse brown leather gloves. "It wouldn't use a fraction of the power if it was just the engine. But," she picked up a complicated looking hunk of metal, with what looking like 20 AA batteries linked up to it, along with a glass tube of some blue liquid that seemed to be fizzing away of its own volition. "You need it to fire these."

In demonstration, she pointed at a far wall and pulled on a trigger, letting loose several globules of white light, sending them flying across the room. They exploded against the wall in a burst of electrical power, hissing and buzzing as the sparks dissipated. "And that's most of the power drained," she said mournfully, holding up the remains for demonstration. Half the batteries had gone black, and one of them had somehow imploded. The blue liquid had turned puce and stopped fizzing.

[Gizmo]

Trevor blinked slowly behind his sunglasses. He'd found that, having adjusted to the wider spectrum of light his eyes were now able to receive, his mutating physiology was actually able to cope with sudden burst of light better than before, something he was grateful for as he viewed the explosive display. Ex-supervillainess, he reminded himself. Outwardly, the dark haired youth leaned forward to examine the weapon system. "Running too hot," he agreed. "Try splitting into several smaller units? Shorter cycles, easier to maintain. Scalable fire-linking for added precision. Make them modular, potential hand-held option or emergency power source." Although his tone remained almost preternaturally calm, his tempo began to gradually increase, and he gestured with one hand to illustrate his suggestions while rummaging around for a pencil and paper with the other.

[Ecalsneerg]

"Actually," said Liz with a wry smile. "They are portable, Chris used to have one on each wrist. Just, y'know..." She hefted the hunk of metal up to demonstrate its size. "His were lighter. And weren't running off AA batteries."

She pointed at a glowy metal thing sitting humming happily to itself in the corner, shaped in some bizarre cube-like sphere-like "shape". "That's the fission-fusion reactor, scaled up to a non-wrist-mounted size. works by breaking down molecules for energy, then reassembling them for more energy. Once you've loaded 30 lbs of carbon into it, the reactor's fairly self-sustaining, and has stopped being radioactive at that point."

[Gizmo]

"Hnn," Trevor grunted noncommittally. "Atomic motorcycle..." As much as the concept rankled his personal aesthetic sensibilities, he had to admire the innovation and technical prowess involved. Rounding up a few applicable tools, he moved over the the vehicle's chassis and indicated silently that he was ready to help with the instillation. "Same technology in the airship?"

[Ecalsneerg]

"Yes and no," said Liz, hauling the engine over to the chassis. "The airship isn't actually a self-sustained reaction, it just scoops up a lot of oxygen molecules and splits them for fuel. The life support works by storing the CO2, then breaking it down for air and fuel if needed."

She hefted it up and into the chassis. "Right, see those sticky out bits on the sides. Weld there, and there, but not there. That would be a horrendous idea." She supported the engine with one hand while picking up a pair of spare Geckoman goggles and tugging them on. "You need some goggles?"

[Gizmo]

"Efficient," Trevor agreed as Liz laid out the design for the Pitchoo's fuel intake system. He considered the welding torch for a moment. With the sunglasses shielding his eyes from the sparks, his mutated orbs would easily compensate for the brightness of the flame itself. It would also avoid revealing them to the scientific young woman, which was probably a wise course of action. "Should be fine." With easy precision, he followed her instructions, welding the engine in place.

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz smiled a brief smile of satisfaction as the engine was welded into place, then stood up, pulling off the goggles with one hand and running her other hand through her hair. Then, fixing Trevor with a look and a raised eyebrow, she gestured to the sunglasses. "They shouldn't protect against a welding torch." She forced a wry smile. "What's your superpower, perfect vision?"

[Gizmo]

Trevor paused for a moment before replying with a noncommittal, "...good sunglasses." Adjusting them reflexively, he turned to examine the rest of the lab. "Impressive set-up," he observed, a note of genuine praise in his otherwise unreadable deadpan. "Knew Chris had a support system; this is far beyond expected." The dark haired youth gave his classmate an deferential nod. Proud as he was of the Midnight Manor, it certainly hadn't been set up as quickly as Geckoman's secret headquarters must have been.

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz somehow managed the nigh-impossible task of raising her eyebrow even further. "Mr Hunter, I can tell when Chris is lying. And you're not an especially good liar." Shaking her head, she joined Trevor in glancing around the lab. "And yeah, I figured if I can't stop him being Geckoman, I can at least help him enough that he doesn't get himself killed. And, a quick scan for a good site, a rock-disintegrating particle laser and teleporting my own lab over sped up the process."

[Gizmo]

Letting out a breath around a grimace, Trevor nodded shallowly to one side, conceding the point. "True enough, Ms. Lawlett." Pulling his sunglasses down his nose, he briefly revealed his ruby irises, luminous against glossy black sclera, before replacing the lenses over his eyes. "Process light better than normal. Superior night vision, resistance to sudden flashes." He shrugged in muted apology. "Nothing personal; colouration tends to unsettle people." Listening to Liz explain the process of setting up the base, he rubbed his neck and pulled a face. "Nnh. Teleportation..."

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz nodded. "Makes sense. And it's Liz, not Ms Lawlett. That's my mo- well, not anymore, but it was her name..." She trailed off self-consciously. "And there's no need to keep the sunglasses on here if you don't want to, once you've seen your boyfriend start reeling off what you had for breakfast last week after kissing you, weird eyes become much less unsettling."

"Anyway, what's wrong with teleportation? So long as you get the molecule stabiliser right, it's pretty hard to get it wrong."

[Gizmo]

The lanky teen nodded in deference. "Trevor, then." He tapped the sides of his sunglasses absently. "Might as well keep them on. Still adjusting to seeing infrared." His mouth curved downward, however, and he eyebrows flattened as the subject of teleportation. "Like my molecules scrambled as little as possible, frankly. Wheels and a road any day."

[Ecalsneerg]

"Well, there's no accounting for personal preference," conceded Liz, "But I'll never quite understand the male fascination with things that go VROOOM!" She sighed. "Hell, Chris has a whole bloody airship and he still wants a motorbike. He claims it'll make him look cool. And that it's easier to conceal. Well, that I'll concede on.

[Gizmo]

Stopping in his tracks, Trevor gave Liz a look which stopped just short of letting his mouth hang open. Tightening his jaw with an audible click, he held his hand parallel before him, gesturing briefly but emphatically. "Control. Contact. Tactile." It was clear that the lanky youth lacked the words to properly express how emphatically he felt on the subject. "Don't end every fight with a nerve blow," he tried by way of analogy. "There are gradients. Teleport's a blunt instrument. Night Cycle... she's an extension, same as my sticks. In a fight, I do okay. Riding my bike?" He shook his head. "Nobody can touch me."

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz took a step back and lifted her hands in surrender. "OK, no taking Chris's bagels, no taking Trevor's bikes. Fair enough." She turned back to her workbench, emptying her pockets of screwdrivers, nails and various small tools. "How does that get in there?"

"So..." she smiled mischievously. "I heard from Chris... what's up with you and that Erin girl?"

[Gizmo]

However skilled a driver he may have been, Trevor was far less adept at changing social gears, and blinked several times as re regained his balance. "We... it's complicated," he replied lamely. The lanky youth's emphatic body language immediately retracted to his earlier conservative stoicism, and his eyebrows seemed to retreat behind the lenses of his sunglasses. "...we're just... private people." He cleared his throat awkwardly, not even making a token effort to change the topic.

[Ecalsneerg]

Liz turned back round, smiling wryly. "Yes, I can see that. And I'm still asking." She shook her head. "Far be it from me to poke in your affairs, because I hardly know you, or Erin. But here's the deal." She looked Trevor dead in the eye.

"Don't keep secrets. Be open with her, and preferably with other people. Because, while it's not going to be as rough as me and Chris, if you aren't... it'll still be pretty damn rough. You understand?"