Sophistemon

Heritage, would Miracle Girl care to add anything before we move on?

Please let me know if there's anything wrong with what I'm doing.

After they'd gone inside, Presto considered dropping down into the yard and following them. He concluded that would leave him more exposed than he was hoping for, and made a slow crawl back to the window. He slide through and, after taking stock of his surroundings, took the pathway down. He kept close to the wall, and held one hand in a summoning gesture, prepared to conjure his wand at the first sign of trouble.

That's fine, that's fine. I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves!

@Blarghy The short trip to Warne's hotel was uneventful, and the room itself was simple but clean -- immaculately so, in a way that implied someone had taken pride in their work. An open window allowed the summer sun to stream inside, coating the walls with a warm buttery glow. It was accompanied by the alluring scents of salt, sand, and surf. There was a television, old and boxy, on a cabinet, a painting of a seaside sunset on the wall, and a Bible next to a lamp on the bedside table. The bed itself was a twin, and freshly made. A closet faced the bathroom. It looked, and felt, like most every middle-class hotel room that he'd ever been. It wasn't a dive, but neither was it anything to write home about in terms of luxuries. There was a phone on the wall, and pinned next to it was a list of numbers he might find useful. An emergency contact number, the front desk, room-service, assorted take-out restaurants, and the rest. The agent held his suitcase in one hand and, in the other, he held an actual honest-to-God key to the room. Val Verde, it appeared, hadn't yet made the move to keycards. @Heritage Sam returned the gesture, and smiled slightly. "If not," he said. "We leave. If there's more to this than we're hoping, we're gone in a flash. I won't let Gallo put either of you in danger." It was then, at the mention of the man in question, that he appeared. Turning a corner, white teeth beaming out from behind a bushy black beard, the President of Val Verde stood before him. He looked almost exactly as he had in the photo Sam had shown them, as though the intervening years hadn't yet managed to catch up to him. Life as the leader of an island nation appeared to be good for your health -- until it wasn't. "Samuel?" he asked, saying the name in a way that came out sam-well. And then, more assuredly: "Samuel! Presto the Preposterous, in the flesh! I know you'd make an entrance, old friend, but I didn't think you'd fly a car into my courtyard! You almost gave my head of security a heart-attack; he was ready to send out the helicopters! They're expensive, you know." He chuckled, then motioned for the guards to give them space as he approached. "God, I've missed you. When I heard what happened those years ago, my heart ached for you. So unfair, to be caught with your pants down like that. Better luck next time, eh?" Then, finally, he seemed to become aware of Lynn and Gretchen. "Are these your guests? Where did you find such, ah, statuesque beauties?" The smile returned, and he held out a hand for either one of the women to take. "It's fantastic to meet you! I welcome you all to Val Verde."

True that, man.

"No problem, boss. All in day's work." Ethan had removed his helmet and, after having run a hand through his hair to work it back into shape, felt a bit better. "It wasn't exactly what I expected, but it all turned out okay in the end. Results are what matter, I guess." He shrugged and turned to Bonfire. "So, kid; what's next for you?"

Optics went blank. At first, the cyborg thought his eyes had malfunctioned and filled his vision with static. Then he realized the truth and uttered a high-pitched shriek of impotent frustration. He couldn't see. He couldn't see, and he couldn't kill what he couldn't see. His burning blades cut through the wind and snow, flashing red and yellow as they sliced the air with frantic slashes, but to no avail. "Warne!" came the call, the challenge. "Warne, you coward! Fight me!" A laser burnt through the snow and pierced the air to the Agent's left, missing entirely and lancing off harmlessly into the crisp night sky. "I have no time for cat-and-mouse, American! Fight me, die, and get out of my way!" Ethan's motorcycle chewed snow from the ground and spit it back behind his passage. A quick glance at the rearview mirror showed the self-contained storm in action, and the pilot couldn't help but smile when he recognized his partner's handiwork. "Give him hell, buddy," he whispered. "I'm almost there. Keep my girls safe for me."

Yes, you've exhausted the Hero Points granted by your Luck feat, so you're down to the one you get naturally.

Yeah, this is giving me the willies already. Will Presto need to move to keep tabs on the rest of the conversation? Can he stay on the roof for the time being, or will he need make an entrance into the house?

I had an encounter planned for you at the hotel, but it could take place more or less anywhere on the island if you wanted to walk around and explore a bit. Please, feel free to ask around and get to know the island; I have lots of notes.

Those were my thoughts more or less exactly. Well put, Blarghy.

No, you weren't wrong; I had to edit the post.

I have no idea what you're talking about. Try reading it again.

@Heritage Samuel was silent for a moment, while they walked. Several steps passed while he considered her words, and his own. "People... change," he said. "But Gallo's a friend. He... deserves a fair shot, doesn't he?" Lynn noticed they were being led along a straightforward path from the building's exterior to its innermost guts. They passed the entryways into branching halls and several large and well-cleaned windows that could be used for an impromptu exit should such a thing become necessary. The building didn't seem to be very heavily protected. There were a few guards posted here and there, and she couldn't sense the presence of any magical wards. She thought that, if they needed to, there wouldn't be much Gallo could do to prevent them leaving. Gretchen, on the other hand, must have been clucking her mind's tongue at the truly abysmal state of Val Verdean technological advancement. Not much seems to have changed since the mid-1970s, in terms of the technology she could see, or guess at. Gallo's revitalization campaign must have been more of an economic one, though of course gutting an entire nation's outdated technology and replacing it with newer models would cost a great deal of money... money that the island might not be able to spare at present. @Blarghy The driver dropped Warne off at a guard post some short distance outside of the grounds surrounding the Presidential Palace. He assisted his client with his bag, was paid, and left the scene without an overabundance of fuss. The guards then checked Warne's credentials, further annoyed him by asking similar questions to those he had already answered, and then regretfully informed him that, as President Gallo was currently hosting foreign guests, he would be unavailable to discuss matters of state security until the following day -- at the earliest. "Sorry, sir," said one guard. "These things happen. The State is prepared to set you up with a room in Val Verde's finest hotel as compensation for the delay." He looked at the Agent of AEGIS with an expression of bureaucratic neutrality.

Whoa, excellent role Heritage. Kudos! I'd be lucky to get something like that once in a blue moon.

@Avenger Assembled, @Blarghy, @Heritage The bars bent, some tearing free of their housing, and Rhekgar the Ravager gazed at his rescuer with a look of... indeterminable emotion. "You have the strength of a giant," he said, with the perfect certainty of a man who had fought and killed giants. "I thank you, great lady." He stepped over the rubble of the former barrier and stood before her, all muscle and leather. He cast his grey eyes across the room, searching for something, and then turned when Adept appeared. "Another," he said, and worked his mouth into the semblance of a smile. "I welcome you, stranger! I am Rhekgar, heir to Eagland of Old. There were two others," he said. "A woman, and a... fop. They were taken elsewhere, deeper into the dungeon. Come, we shall seek them out together and find my bludgeon along the way, should the gods favor our path." He had not yet taken a step when Sea Devil appeared, her bizarre proportions giving him pause. But she stood, nonthreatening, and he turned to Miracle Girl for confirmation. "Friend or foe, my lady?" he asked.

Ethan nodded, and the chuckled that emerged from his helmet was rendered unintentionally ominous by the enhancing effect it wrought on his voice. "That's right," he concurred. "The best money can buy. And rest assured, AEGIS is very thorough when we start digging into things." Then, perhaps surprisingly, he reached out and rested a gloved hand on Green's shoulder. "You should come clean," he advised. "I've been saying that from the beginning. The more honest you are with us, the easier it'll go for you. Trust me on that."

I don't want to speak for Blarghy, but I'm prepared to move on to the next stage of the story.

I love this idea, and you should feel free to apply whatever Power Feats you'd like to your Power Stunt, provided you have the points to afford them.

Presto is going to keep low and out of sight -- maybe even slink flat on his belly to keep from being seen from the street -- and listen in on young-Warne's conversation. That's been the driving force of the mission so far, right? To learn more about Warne and get an appreciation for how he is who he is? I'm glad I decided to come out this way, because I get another story. I would appreciate a more detailed examination of the house and its environs, if it isn't too much trouble. You can just work it into your post, if you'd like; no need to type it out twice.

Potential paths, branching and looping and weaving themselves throughout the whorls of Warne's mind. Presto felt his head spinning and leaned against a wall to steady himself. The paralysis of choice was a terrible thing, and a perpetual burden with which he struggled often. He held his phone between his ear and shoulder and reached into a pocket. He felt around, weaving fingers through his keys, until he found something hard, round, and flat. He removed the nickle and, with a graceful gesture, flipped it. He caught the tumbling coin in his palm and took a look. Tails. The magician sighed, returned the coin to his pocket, and pulled the window open. "The road less traveled," he quipped, and stepped out onto the roof. It felt mildly liberating to do so, to start playing this game by his own rules instead of Warne's, instead of Baku's. To be unexpected, to engage in a bit of... misdirection. That thought brought a smile to his face. "Down, down, to goblin town..." he murmured, and stared down at the police below him. He returned the phone to his other pocket, now that he was outside the light wasn't strong enough to illuminate much of anything.

Presto is going to flip a coin. Heads, he follows the figment along the 'obvious' path; tails, he exits through the window and gets a closer look at what's going on outside. There are, after all, a few different ways down. Coin flip: 1d2 2. Tails it is.

A standard Notice Check for both would be sufficient.

Miracle Girl is more than strong enough to free Rhekgar from his cell.