Lone Star

Blake nodded, sitting at the other side of the table. His eyebrows raised, and a hint of a smile could be seen on his face. "Jessica, that sounds like a great idea. I think we both need time away from Freedom City, and our respective jobs." His mind flashed back to how busy he had been not weeks before, and he realized he was long overdue for a vacation. "I've got other contacts that can keep Freedom safe from magical threats. It's not like I'm the only wizard around here, just the only one who advertises." he said with a wink. "Where would you want to go?"

Mad Dog was resting, sitting on a bench near the edge of the courtyard. He didn't know anyone from the crowd, and leaned his head down. He was bored. Through his black hockey mask, he scanned the crowd, looking at least for someone around his age to hang out with. He spotted a guy about his age, clad in a red jacket and Trojan helmet. He seemed pretty cool, and Mad Dog made his way towards him. Practically wading through the motley crowd of heroes, he sought out the helmed man. "Uh, hi. I'm Mad Dog. What's up?"

Blake removed her hands from his, and before she could protest, he scooted his chair next to hers. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and held her close. "One thing you can't do is blame yourself. You didn't know that your grandfather fought in a war, and there's no way you could have. I do have one possible solution for you, Jessica." His hands moved back to hers and held them gently. "Now I've always known you were the smart one. Sure, I can do magic, but you're a certifiable genius. Why not reinvent yourself, so to speak? Make a new suit, assume a new identity. If being the granddaughter of a soldier will bother you so much, building a new suit shouldn't be a challenge, especially for someone with as much technical skill as you do." Blake kissed her cheek hard, and smiled. "And I'll be happy with whatever you choose, because you were still with me when I changed from Kid Cthulhu to Warlock."

Warlock's eyes narrowed with rage, and his eyes flickered. A green glow started at his arm, and set his robes on fire with an otherworldly green flame. He quickly brushed them off, hoping no one else would notice. He drew his lightning wand, and pointed it at the phantom. "I'm going to send you back to hell, you demon monster! You have no right to violate the minds of others! You have no authority to say what people can and cannot do! Now stand still so I can get a clear shot." He slung the eldritch lightning at his foe, hoping to take Roland down.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Lightning bolt! DC 19 Reflex and DC 24 if it hits.

Warlock nodded sagely. "It's worse now that he's using multiple studies. I guess he thinks himself an artist, too." He shuddered in disgust at the horrible creature's form. "But the sooner we find this freak, the better." He walked a little further down the hallway- the three were now at the far end of the house. The walls were delapidated and yellowing with age, and the smell of decaying corpse and musky house was overpowering. "Ah, Christ. Let's go." Warlock walked to the kitchen area, where plates of food were stacked high. "Oh, great, he's a slob in addition to a monster. Wait- what the hell?" He peered out the kitchen window. "There's someone out there!"

Gregory was speeding back to his apartment, the wind whipping through his black hair. He had grown it out recently, and Gossamer had said it looked very "Fabioesque". His light jacket was billowing behind him like a cape, and he rounded another corner. He laughed with the pleasure of driving, although he yearned to be on a more open road. The bike skidded to a stop as he expertly braked just before his parking space. He slipped his keys in his jacket pocket and clicked the door open. He clicked on the lights, and froze. "How did you get in here?" he said, his fists already clenched. "Please don't hit me!" A small man in a regal robe was standing at his entranceway, holding a sandwich and a beer. "You have two seconds to tell me how you got in and WHY YOU ARE STEALING MY BEER!" The man closed his eyes tightly and spoke in a quick monotone. "You've been invited by Guan Yu, god of war and head of the Convocation on Martialry..." After an explanation, Gregory unclenched his fist, and rubbed his chin. "I'll have to tell Goss when I get back. But yeah, that sounds good. Let me get my stuff." Gregory suited up, and the two teleported away, the bottle of beer crashing to the floor after the two left the apartment.

I'm recording with my school's jazz band today! I'll be on later today hopefully- someone hit me up on AIM if I forget. Also, I have a job interview Thursday morning with my school district...I might be a book mover. Hey, it's a job, and for college stuff, it's good money.

*slides in!*

As the others were fighting, Warlock was making his way up the building, blinking in and out. He appeared for fractions of a second, and leaping up to teleport again. He reached the top story within a minute, and saw the others were already in combat. He ran towards his spectral opponent, and tossed a handful of his sleeping powder at his face. "Get out of my friend's heads, you monster. And take a little nap. Cannonade, you okay?"

Warlock auto-crits with his Sleeping Powder, so that's a DC 24 Will save.

The zombie crumbled, and fell to the ground, its power effectively yanked from it. The floor boards creaked, and threatened to give way beneath the giant's weight. Warlock cautiously approached it, then knelt down to examine it. "What the hell?" he said, pointing out a huge gash. The undead appeared to have parts stitched together from other corpses- its skin color was inconsistent, and its back was a road map of stitches. "Looks like he's using some science, too. This is disturbing." He stood up, and adjusted his robes. "What do you two recommend we do next?"

Blake sat for a moment, his eyes turned down. If she was paying attention, she would have noticed Blake's hands flinch a little, away from her. "Jessica." he said, looking back up at her. "Your grandfather fought in Vietnam, right? I can't condone war, the concept of it, that is...but he was fighting for his country, Jessica. I know you wouldn't kill people, and even though you inherited his legacy, you don't have to think of it as tarnished. Is every soldier a cold-blooded murderer? They fight, but they fight to defend their country. I've never been very politically inclined myself, but I'm glad there are people out there who defend us."

The pellets struck the zombie's chest, and it shrieked in agony. Warlock raised his hand up for an intense bro-fist, and grinned broadly. "Nice one, Templar!" His face quickly fell when he saw the zombie was not harmed in any way. It staggered backwards with the force of the assault, but did nothing to phase it. He turned to Nick, his heart practically pounding out of his chest. "Uh, Nick! Would you do that...thing." He made a frantic attempt to gesture slashing claws. "The thing you did to the other zombie?"

[urlhttp]1d20+14=28 Oooh, bad luck. Initiative order: Cobalt Templar (unharmed) Nick (unharmed) Warlock (unharmed) Big-Ass Zombie (unharmed) So you're up, troll.

Warlock drew his lightning wand, and concentrated. A small electrical current caused the tip to glow, allowing them to see the room any better. "I still think someone else is behind this. Deep Ones don't know enough about technology nor do they have the planning skills to organize a heist like this." He looked at his girlfriend with her hand against the wall. "Hmm. Although a secret entrance wouldn't be beyond them. Scoot over and let me push on it a little." He holstered his lightning wand, tucking it back into his robes. His eyes narrowed as he raised his arm, and the ring on his right hand glowed with eldritch power. "I'd better be gentle- wouldn't want to bring the house down."

Sorry it took me a bit. Warlock goes on a 12.

Blake blinked and hesitated a moment. The thought had crossed his mind on several occasions, but it was one he had never given any attention to. He looked deep into her eyes, and spoke resolutely. "Jessica, if you decided to hang up your armor, I'd be with you one hundred percent. Admittedly, I would miss our excursions slash villain-fighting dates." He couldn't hide a grin, and it broke out on his face. "But you know I'd support whatever you decide, Jess. You know I love you." Blake scooted his chair closer to her and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. "So, uh...what brought up this thought, anyway?"

Blake hugs her back, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. He smiles at her nonchalant question. "Oh, you know. Had to do some investigations for the museum, found this hole in the ground, fought some Deep Ones. You know, the usual." Blake grinned and started looking about the cavern. "Now I don't know who or what is causing all this, but whoever he is just pissed off the wrong wizard. Healing potion, babe?" He turned back to Jessica, and dug through his equipment. A grin lit his face up as he offered her some of his healing potion. "Made with all-natural ingredients! I think."

"Not for one moment." he said, his voice becoming serious. "After I knew I lost my powers, I made every effort to get them back. Not by the same methods, mind you..." He looked up at her with a grin. "But I found some good magical tomes and learned magic the hard way. By studying! God help me, I actually had to study for something. You were on my mind the whole time, Jessica. I couldn't give up being a hero. Not just for the crime-fighting, although that gave me a satisfaction and courage I couldn't find anywhere else. I kept going because I wanted to keep fighting crime with you, Jessica. I love you." He raised one of her hands and kissed it.

Blake held her hands and squeezed them back. "I do, Jessica. Tell me what's bothering you." He looked into her eyes, and gave her a gentle smile. "You know I'll always listen if you need someone." His eyes flickered to the table, and he inwardly sighed with relief at her statement; at least it wasn't something he did. His eyes returned to hers, and he smiled warmly at her. "I love you."

Blake slowly opened the Backstage doors, already looking for his girlfriend. His eyes darted about the room, and he spotted her in the back of the restaurant. His tennis shoes squeaked against the floor at a moderate tempo as he made his way towards her table with a purpose. It had been a while since they had been on a proper date, considering their last meeting was a coincidental one involving Deep Ones, but when she called him, he had a feeling she wasn't calling to ask him to a movie. His heart beat a little faster, and he tried to steady it. In the back of his mind, Blake thought he had done something wrong. He took a deep breath, and smiled a little at her as he took a seat next to her. His kiss on her cheek was gentle and quick, and he put his hands on the table, ready to talk. "Are you alright, honey?"

Warlock furrowed his eyebrows with annoyance. "Yep, Deep Ones. Corrupted Atlantean monsters. Some kind of cross-breeding with Serpent People. They're mutant creatures who are not exactly known for being rocket scientists. I don't know what's up with these. I suspect someone else is involved, or maybe they got ahold of the monolith from 2001." He fired another eldritch bolt at the Deep One, almost impatiently. "And this one just refuses to call it quits!"

Warlock tries again with his lightning wand! 'Nother DC 19 Reflex and DC 24 Toughness.

He uses his Lightning Wand, which means he'll have to make a DC 19 Reflex save vs. a DC 24 Toughness, or half damage if he passes it.