TheRedGuy

OK, I'm using my Air Control to counter the falling damage by creating a cushion of air underneath the entire airplane. It works, as said above, by subtracting the Air Control rank from the DC of the fall each round. It should make the rough landing less rough and protect both the passengers and the plane from the impact damage, though it probably will not be a perfectly smooth finish, especially since he's not on the outside of the plane where he can feel the winds better. I'll also use Extra Effort to increase Air Control's power the last round before landing.

Aníbal stuck his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket after Raina expressed her desire to watch the video. When she continued, he grinned widely, leaning towards her. "Oh, I've got some tricks up my sleeve. And bravery? I used to go skydiving before I knew I could fly, chica.", he replied, teasing her, "I could take you sometime, if you want. It's fun. A little less fun when you know you'll stay in the air no matter what, but still..." He finished off his orange juice and pulled out an expensive-looking, very thin smartphone from his coat pocket, along with a pair of attached earbuds. After a few moments of tapping and swiping on the screen, he presented it to Raina. "But first... Here... You don't have to look for it.", he continued with a smile. He didn't know who this "Merlin" or "Marilyn" person was, but his or her services weren't necessary. "So, first, a little background. We were playing Truth or Dare, and someone asked me what was the most embarrassing music that I secretly liked. I said Ana Gabriel's rancheras. She's... You probably never heard of her. My Mom likes her a lot. Enough said.", he clarified, "Then, later, Vicente, who's my good friend - he's the pudgy one in the video - dared me to sing an Ana Gabriel song while wearing his sister's quinceañera dress. So I did." The video, entitled "Nuestr@ Aní canta su canción preferida ", had a couple thousand views, and the likes outnumbered the dislikes by a considerable margin. The top rated comments were "jajajaja ya lo sabíamos hace mucho tiempo...", "sólo buenos amigos, nada más ", and "Aní tiene mejores piernas que yo T_T", the only English comment a lone "I'm in the weird part of YouTube again, aren't I?". It was recorded shakily and the lighting was pretty bad, but she would clearly make out it was a party. The camera centered briefly on a pudgy young man in a tacky shirt who made a theatrical announcement in a thick Norteño accent, and then turned towards a doorway. There she could see Aníbal, perhaps a year or two younger than now. Back then he apparently had a floppy, asymmetrical teenage mop top, rather than the more conservative cut he had now. He was wearing a blue satin dress, the kind girls in America would wear to prom, and holding a bottle of Corona in his hand. He stumbled drunkenly into the room, finding it hard to retain balance on high heels, while the rest of the party attendees laughed, applauded and wolf whistled. Soon, a tinny karaoke version of a song started to play from a nearby laptop, and Aníbal belted out a heartfelt, drunken rendition of a ranchera song about forbidden love between a poor girl and a rich man, masterfully affecting the Mexican diva's vocal mannerisms and using the bottle of Corona as an imaginary microphone. The performance was punctuated by howls of teenage laughter, as Aníbal did his best to make the instigator of the dare, his pudgy friend, as uncomfortable as possible: rubbing his shoulders, sitting in his lap, pressing his face to his chest and running his fingers through his hair. At the end of the song, a "Beso! Beso!" chant started up, and he violently kissed his friend on the lips, knocking them both off the chair as the others cheered. The video ended there.

Aníbal too stumbled a bit when the plane suddenly lurched, but quickly regained balance and rushed towards the old doctor, helping him right himself. He felt a bit queasy when one of the passengers announced the engines had stopped. And we were doing so well... &%#$... The passengers were getting restless again. With a frown, he turned to the doctor. "I think it's best you return to your seat for now, Doctor", he told the old man and scanned the rows of passenger seats, checking to see if anyone was going into full meltdown. He was prepared to address them all, urging calm and possibly inventing an explanation for the jolt. Turbulence, or something. That's what they always said in the movies, right? Before he could say anything, Seahawk's determined announcement came through over the intercom speakers. They were making a water landing. Seahawk didn't bother to cover up the details of the situation, which was probably for the best. If any of the passengers would have seen through the ruse, it would likely make matters worse. He quickly made his way to the cockpit to check in with Seahawk and Miracle Girl. As he entered, the stench of the copilots' bodies made him cover his mouth and nose. They didn't look unconscious. They looked dead. The doctor wouldn't be necessary after all. He glanced at the blinking panel of instruments. While he had no idea what any of the many knobs, switches and screens was for, it appeared not to be in working order. "I can use my powers to help you with the landing", he offered to Seahawk, "The plane's too big for me to hold it up in the air, but I can create an air cushion underneath and lay us down gently, so the plane doesn't get damaged. You're still piloting, of course. If the passengers strap themselves in well, there shouldn't be any problems." He looked outside the cockpit. Doing this without direct contact with the atmosphere outside would be a bit tricky - he liked to feel the currents on his skin when manipulating the air - but he was confident he could do it. It was a trick he had pulled off before, though not on this scale. "It's best if I start at least 20-30 seconds before we land. Just give the signal.", he added and braced himself for what was to come, leaning against the back of the cockpit with a look of determination. Come on, Aníbal. You can do this...

OK, I think we're going for the air cushion. Any damage to the passengers would be counted from the falling damage to the plane as a whole, right? If the whole plane has a soft landing, nobody should get banged up if they're strapped in properly. Or, at least, they'll have a better shot of weathering the blow if it's just a tiny bump and not a DC35+ Toughness save plunge into the water. Don't think anyone will be all "YOU BLEW IT! WORST HEROING EVAR! HOW CAN YOU LIVE WITH URSELFS?!?!?!1one" if a few people get minor injuries after the whole thing is through. Like I said, given his Air Control is perception range, the airbag thing would likely not be able to cover the whole plane. Not to mention that if the plane gets banged up while the passengers are protected, there might be further trouble (jet fuel 'splosions, wings breaking off, malfunctioning equipment, glass breaking, I dunno...) that'd make extracting the passengers a PITA. One small issue... I don't think Seahawk would know the full extent of El Huracán's powers yet, so the bit in the post where she suggests he use a cushion or create air bags should probably come as a suggestion from Aníbal, who'll drop by the cockpit to check in. She saw him fly and turn off BBQ Girl's flames, but she probably wouldn't be able to tell how exactly he did it or what else he can do - i.e. just how limited or not his abilities are. Anyway, I'll post Aníbal coming into the cockpit and suggesting his part. You can edit your post later. So, the cushion thing, according to UP, works by reducing the falling damage DC by [power rank] every round. Depending on how long the descent takes, it should lower it considerably or eliminate it entirely. An airliner has 13 Toughness (according to the list in Core Rules, I think). I'd also use Extra Effort to increase my Air Control power, but we'll deal with that once we begin the landing.

Okay. Considering my Air Control is perception range, I don't think I can provide airbags to the whole plane, as we haven't even been to the economy class seats. The best bet is using my Air Control to counter the falling damage on the water landing by creating a cushion of air. It would lay the plane down gently, minimising any potential discomfort and injuries to the passengers. Of course, Seahawk would do her Pilot check and go all Sully. BTW, since Aníbal also has Bluff and Diplomacy skills, could I use a Bluff or Diplomacy check to calm down the passengers?

Aníbal continued to laugh as Raina played along and mounted a jocular defense of her actions. "If Robin told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it? Clearly, she's a bad influence on you", he mock-scolded her before biting into his muffin, clearly not taking the whole thing too seriously. When Raina delivered her own challenge, he hummed and waved his hand dismissively before swallowing the mouthful of muffin. "Me? Never.", he affected a pose of theatrical seriousness, a devilish gleam in his eye suggesting he wasn't being entirely honest, "I am a sensible, well-bred young man with a good head on his shoulders." He paused for a moment and stroked his chin, the serious facade cracking slightly.under stifled giggles. "Well, there was that one time I was dared to put on a dress and sing an Ana Gabriel song...", he continued with a wry smile and quickly shrugged it off, as if it did not compare to Raina's museum antics, "But that's perfectly normal! Not ridiculous at all. And I may have been a little drunk at the time." He took a sip of his orange juice. "And my friends may have recorded it and put it on YouTube", he added, looking away awkwardly.

Aníbal took another bite of his burger, letting Raina speak. He listened to Raina's account of her museum trip with a raised eyebrow and an expression of increasing bemusement. Every sentence she uttered seemed to raise far more questions than it answered. The story, told in its broadest outlines, somehow managed to be both perfectly coherent and utterly insane. Weird, indeed. There was something hilarious in the cheerful way she told the tale, as if such events were a normal occurrence. Of course, given the nature of Claremont, they pretty much were. "That is weird.", he replied, finished off his hamburger and took a sip of his juice, "Well... At least it ended well. I haven't met this Fred yet, but now I'm intrigued." For a few moments he looked at her, still looking confused but making a brave effort to keep a straight face. Then he burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just... Who kisses a statue?! What's wrong with you, chica?", he playfully teased Raina and leaned back in his chair, looking straight into her eyes, "And there are so many handsome boys at Claremont..."

Aníbal perked up when Raina mentioned having been to Puerto Vallarta as a child. "Puerto Vallarta! That's in Jalisco, where my grandfather lives. I went there a few times with my parents too. I had my first... It's nice.", he blurted out and trailed off awkwardly mid-sentence, his eyes darting to the side, "Never been to Baja though. We'd mostly go to Europe for the holidays." He laughed heartily as Raina recounted her middle school experiments with booze. His own middle-school experience was quite similar. The other kids called him "el tequilero" due to his family's business, and prevailed upon him to obtain some of the family liquor for parties. The boys pretended to drink. Aníbal was the only one who didn't pretend. He woke up in intensive care the next morning, his father perched at his bedside like an angry buzzard. Fun times. The mention of Saturdays off was heartening. If today's exercises were anything to go by, education at Claremont was a gruelling affair, and any breaks were welcome. Besides, he looked forward to seeing the city, preferably in good company. "One Saturday then. Sounds good.", he said, his gaze meeting Raina's for a few moments before he lowered it to his food. He took another bite and chewed, thinking. "We can see them all, or as many as we can fit into the day. They have those guided bus tours, but I never liked those. I like to blend in with the local people, see the city like it really is, not like a tourist sees it, you know?", he continued after swallowing the morsel, "Also, you mentioned museums? Did you go to one recently? How was it?"

The words "Terminus energy" sent a chill down Aníbal's spine. He remembered those words bandied about in hushed tones by the doctors his father hired to examine him in the immediate aftermath of his abilities surfacing. They were usually embedded in an impenetrable morass of medical jargon, but he could decipher the energy in question wasn't a good thing. It had the ring of something dangerous, and Jenny there was living, burning proof of it. It was fortunate that his goggles covered his eyes, hiding the fact his pupils widened with fear. Was he one of them? What exactly were they? He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his expression from revealing any trace of his inner turmoil. The crash of the cockpit door came right on time. He nodded to the doctor and moved on, ready to intervene in the cockpit if the need arose. Seahawk's voice soon came through the speaker. Everything was fine, it seemed. The plane was under control once more and ready to land. The call for a stewardess made him cock an eyebrow. The only two stewardesses they had seen were both knocked out and unable to lend a hand. However, there must be a doctor among the passengers. There was always a doctor aboard in the movies, right? "Is there a doctor on board?", he called out to the passengers and turned to the likeliest candidate, Dr. Warfield, with a questioning expression.

"Oh", he replied with interest when Raina mentioned her hometown. His knowledge of US Geography probably dwarfed the average US high-schooler's knowledge of Mexican, or for that matter American geography. With a wistful smile, he remembered the song from a cartoon that helped him learn the 50 states of the EE.UU when he was a little boy. Baton Rouge, Luisiana, Indianapolis, Indiana, y Columbus es el capital del O-hi-o... He took a bite of his hamburger and nodded, only half in agreement, as Raina explained her family background rather tersely and suggested Freedom City was a more interesting place to be. Small towns could get suffocatingly dull, sometimes, but they had their charms. He noted the detail that her parents were apparently well off - you don't get elected to office in America without spending a lot of money, even in small-town Indiana. Clearly, Aníbal thought, she came from a "good family". His grandfather would approve. "Me? Mostly Ciudad de Mexico. Benito Juarez.", he replied after having chewed and swallowed another bite of the burger. It then occurred to him the place name was likely meaningless to someone not Mexican. "Benito Juarez borough. It's the richest neighborhood in Mexico.", he added, "Also one of the most crime-ridden. Papa rarely let me go out without someone to keep an eye on me, especially since this thing with the cartels started... He was afraid I'd get kidnapped. I also spent a lot of time on my grandfather's ranch, riding horses, hiking, that sort of thing. It's out west, near Guadalajara. My mother's family has huge agave plantations in Los Altos." He took another sip of orange juice. "Heard of Miramontes Tequila? My grandfather's distillery makes it, and Papa's company is the exclusive worldwide distributor.", he revealed, feeling a little awkward as he usually did when discussing his rather privileged background. "Monty", as it was affectionately known in the US, was fast becoming the thinking douchebag's drink of choice on the club scene and at frat parties, cutting into the market share of the other brands and even being name-checked in a couple of rap songs. This brought Herrera International a lot of money, but also a lot of worries about brand dilution. In a business that revolved around image as much as taste, one couldn't have the wrong people drinking your product in the wrong way, lest it lose its premium cachet. "So... I guess we're both new in town, then.", he continued with a smile, "Maybe we can go see the sights together, when we have the time."

Aníbal turned towards the salad bar, but quickly dismissed the idea of going back for jalapenos with a lazy wave of the hand. American food was blander than his usual fare, but it was tasty enough. He could tell the ingredients were picked with care, a cut above the stuff one could get in regular fast food joints. Clearly, whoever was in charge of nutrition at Claremont took the health of its students seriously. "I'll live", he replied after swallowing and washing it down with a sip of orange juice. Raina described the Claremont campus in brief, and he nodded, having seen most of those places already. "I meant the city, not the school. It's funny... I was actually born in Freedom City, but I only visited a couple of times since then. Always just for a little while.", he continued, toying with a french fry, "And no, I don't think I've been assigned a roommate yet. The administrator said they'd put me in with someone shortly though." He bit off half the french fry, as if to try the flavor, and then approvingly popped the rest into his mouth as well. "What about you?", he asked a few moments later, "Are you from around here?"

Aníbal was used to fancy haute cuisine, but he could still enjoy - and often preferred - the simple, hearty dishes that were staple foods of Mexico's lower classes. After Raina filled her tray, he examined the selection, trying to find something he recognised from back home, but to no avail. All the same, he thought. What Americans called "Mexican food" was usually an altogether different beast. Not wanting to fuss around too much and keep Raina waiting, he took a burger, a side of fries, a plate of salad that at least somewhat resembled the kind he'd eat back home, a glass of orange juice and a chocolate muffin, and also took along a lonely bottle of hot sauce that was sitting on the glass counter. They sat down at a nice table for two, away from the others. "Actually, I only arrived yesterday", he replied to Raina's inquiry while adding an ungodly amount of hot sauce to the inside of his hamburger bun, "So I haven't really had the time to see the sights. And yes, I hope the exercises won't all be this bad. I think this might have shocked them as much as it shocked us." He took a bite out of his hamburger, grimacing as he chewed the morsel. "Mmmf...", he hummed with a frown after a few moments, "Too mild."

Aníbal had also changed his clothes in the meantime, exchanging the blue and gold Claremont jumpsuit for a crisp powder blue cotton dress shirt, a camel hair sport coat and a smart pair of jeans. It was only the cafeteria, he reasoned, so he dressed casually. Nothing worse than being overdressed for the occasion. He followed Raina's lead and took a tray from the pile. The smell of grilled hamburgers filled the air, reminding him of just how hungry he was. He had no idea what the quality of the food was at the cafeteria. It was probably not comparable to what he had at home, where a small army of chefs was on call to cover the Herrera family's needs, but he was resolved to get used to Gringo cuisine and be treated on the same terms as all the other students. His father used to tell him stories of Alexander the Great and Napoleon sitting down to eat supper with the common soldiery - a parable meant to teach him valuable lessons about management theory and cementing loyalties. Aníbal didn't recall the last time his father had lunch with an employee, but presumably, like most parables, it wasn't to be taken literally. "Yes, looks like it.", he replied to Raina with a smile and scanned the room for a good spot to sit. Somewhere nice and secluded, where they could eat and chat in peace. Luckily, there didn't seem to be much of a queue yet, and the cafeteria was nearly empty.

As Seahawk and Miracle Girl busied themselves with the cockpit door, Aníbal slowly strolled between the rows of seats, making sure all the passengers were calm and were causing no trouble and occasionally glancing towards the charred supervillainess still lying in a heap on the floor. He tried to project confidence and authority, but in a friendly, approachable manner, and made a point of smiling reassuringly at any children that were present. Nevertheless, he too was a little nervous. Things were going well so far, but he hoped Seahawk would be able to take control of the cockpit and land the plane soon, so they could get the hijacker into official custody before another flame-up ensued. He passed by Doctor Warfield's seat and turned to look at the old man. It was apparent that he knew the girl - Jenny, he called her - and she knew him. The exact nature of their connection was a mystery, but he did mention research of some sort earlier. Aníbal decided it wasn't his place to pry. However, the link between the two did seem important. Perhaps this whole thing was pulled off just to get at the old man and his research papers. "You should be prepared to answer some questions when we land", he told the doctor, leaning in closer and lowering his voice to keep the conversation more or less private, "She seemed to be going after you, specifically, no? And you seem to know who she is. I'm sure the police or FBI or AEGIS or whoever is handling this on the ground will be interested in whatever you can reveal about the case." There was no hint of menace or suspicion in the young man's voice, merely friendly concern. Aníbal had no intention of grilling the man so shortly after his ordeal. "I won't press you, but, if you happen to know something that can help us right now, we would be pleased if you could share it with us.", he added, glancing once again at Firestarter, who was thankfully still out cold.

"Okay", he replied. A splash of water seemed to have washed away the initial shock and Raina was more or less back to her old self again. Aníbal looked around the room. He thought he heard someone walking down the hall, though it may have been his imagination. Either way, he was at the wrong place, and had to give Raina some time to change clothes. He wanted to get out of the tight Claremont jumpsuit himself and slip into something nicer and more comfortable. He nodded to Raina. "I'll meet you at the athletic fields in 15 minutes", he said, "Then we can go get something to eat. See you soon!" He waved to Raina as he left the locker room and made his way to the elevator, soon finding himself back on the surface. There was a spring in his step as he walked towards the dorms. Maybe this day wouldn't turn out to be a complete waste after all.

Aníbal didn't involve himself in the heated exchange that erupted. It was a rough day for everyone involved, people were tired, cranky, scared, upset, probably all at once. Arguing wouldn't help matters one bit. Raina buried her face in his shoulder after shouting at Riley. He gave Riley a sympathetic, if somewhat puzzled look. The young man was clearly no cold-blooded killer, but his actions were indeed bafflingly violent. Aníbal didn't know what to think about the boy quite yet, but he resolved that an accident during a stupid training session wasn't going to put a gulf between them. Soon, Riley and Robin were leaving. The instructor had answered his question about the location of a lavatory nearby, and appeared to quietly encourage him to see to Raina, which was what Aníbal had in mind. Despite the grim circumstances, he quite enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed against his and her breath on his skin. Granted, there was a faint, lingering smell of vomit that made the situation significantly less romantic... "Slow, deep breaths", he murmured into her ear, "Just relax." Slowly, he walked to the exit with her or his arm and turned to Dauntless, looking the big man straight in the eye. "Hopefully next time we'll meet things will go better, sir. Maybe we'll have a proper exercise, not these stupid mind games. Tell Dr. Archer or whoever designed this we are not guinea pigs.", he said. There was anger in his voice, but it was not directed at the instructor, who was clearly a good sort stuck with a thankless task. He nodded a farewell and walked out of the room, going across the hall as instructed until the two of them reached the locker rooms near the Danger Room. He took her inside, not really paying attention to which one it was, but by the general cleanliness and lack of powerful odors he figured it was probably the girls' locker room. There was no one present, for now. Adjoining the locker room area was a lavatory. Stepping inside, he turned on a faucet at one of the sinks and gave Raina some space to freshen up and recover from the shocks of the day. "Well, this was a bad day", he remarked with an awkward smile, leaning on the wall with his arms folded across his chest. "You should drink some Gatorade or something like that, it's good for getting your energy back after you... you know. Speaking from personal experience."

A blur flew past him and materialised several feet away in the form of Miracle Girl, who delivered a beautiful roundhouse kick to the side of the supervillain's head. Aníbal breathed a sigh of relief when the hijacker keeled over after a few tense moments. That went well, he thought. Much better than he expected. The girl on fire could talk a big talk, but was easily dispatched with a bit of strategic thinking. When the passenger's cheered their victory, he smiled and briefly struck a gallantly heroic pose before continuing up the isle, nodding and greeting the passengers but gently nudging them back to their seats. While the immediate danger was over, the situation was still not resolved. He was about to address the passengers himself when Seahawk took care of it, issuing pretty much the exact instructions he had in mind. He noticed the fallen hijacker's would-be victim standing near her and went to check on him. "Sorry about the bag, we did our best", he offered with an apologetic smile as he gently directed the old man to his seat, "At least you're unharmed." He knelt down next to Firestarter and checked on her. Out cold. For now, at least. There was no point in putting her in restraints, as she'd probably burn through anything they had if she came to her senses, and moving her away from the passengers might wake her up. Someone had to keep an eye on her in case she started trouble again, and Aníbal figured he was the best choice. As Seahawk pressed on, he made his way forward as well, joining the rest of the team in front of the bulky cockpit door. "Buen trabajo", he complimented Miracle Girl with a smile before turning to Seahawk. "I think it's best if I stay here and make sure our flamboyant friend there doesn't cause anymore trouble. She's not going to be happy when she wakes up.", he told the team, keeping his voice low to prevent any passengers from eavesdropping. "You two can handle things in the cockpit, I assume? If you need any help, just call, OK?"

Pro forma Notice check, of course it failed. OK, I'll keep an eye on her and keep the passengers in line. You two can handle things in the cockpit. Will do a post to that effect soon.

OK. Someone should really keep an eye on Little Miss Combustion in case she comes to her senses, though. Or is she down for good? I can aid Seahawk's attack with an air blast.

Aníbal followed the two superheroines out of the baggage hold, emerging into a cramped little kitchenette. The scene revealed something was very wrong here indeed. He winced as he noticed the flight attendant lying out cold on the floor. There was no time to aid the poor fellow, they had to press on. As the trio of heroes looked behind the curtain to scope out the situation in the passengers' area, it became evident that something was going on inside. Aníbal couldn't make out what the agitated older man was saying to the tall flight attendant, nor what she said in response. His ears were still buzzing slightly from flying outside, and the pair were far away. Nevertheless, when he witnessed the flight attendant suddenly burst into flames, the fine details of their exchange were beside the point. That was, presumably, one of the hijackers. Before he had time to speak, Seahawk had already acted on instinct, charging towards the flame-wreathed girl with incredible speed and power. He watched with awe as the superheroine attacked on wings of golden energy, her fist smashing into her opponent in a resounding blow. The blow, however, did little. The flaming woman shrugged it off. His heart sank as he watched the woman cockily send a blast of flames towards the old man, but breathed a sigh of relief when she merely hit his leather bag. Or was she aiming for the bag? In either case, there was no time to think. As Firestarter roared her threat, Aníbal stepped a few feet forward into the passengers' area with only one thought on his mind. An open flame in a closed area filled with people was bad news. He needed to snuff her out. "Everyone stay in your seats and remain calm...", he called out to the nearby passengers, trying to sound as authoritative as possible, given his age and the circumstances being what they are. "Oye, chica...", he raised his voice, fixing his gaze on the flaming woman, "This is a non-smoking flight." He felt the air moving in the sealed, air-conditioned environment, and focused his attention on Firestarter. In a few seconds, the air around her began to shift, creating a vacuum, limited precisely to her. Her impressive flames flickered out, deprived of an oxygen supply. "NOW!", he shouted to Miracle Girl and stepped aside to give her enough room to attack the extinguished pyrokinetic while she was vulnerable.

OK, I'm using my Air Control to create a very precise vacuum around Firestarter, in order to snuff out her flames. That's a full action. Countering Fire Shield w/Air Control (vacuum) 1d20+11=27

I'm delaying until after BBQ Girl does her thang (Initiative 22, let's say).

Aníbal, too, had felt slightly queasy at the sight of Doctor Metropolis' skull fragment. It was only a simulation, yes, but an incredibly lifelike one. You'd see gore and violence in movies and videogames, but the real thing was decidedly unglamorous and ugly to look at. His nose crinkled with disgust. Soon, he felt Raina's grip on his arm loosen and turned towards the girl as she stumbled off. When she vomited, he rushed towards her, grabbing her head firmly but gently and brushing back her hair. He felt a little more queasy. Fortunately, he wasn't easily disgusted, and had been to enough parties to know how to handle the situation. "It's OK", he said softly, applying gentle pressure to her temples, "It's all turned off now. Don't worry about the mess. " He put his arm around her and cautiously led her away from the puddle, so the sights and smells don't trigger more retching, and looked around for the instructor, who appeared to be in the midst of an argument with Riley. "There we go...", he continued, "You just need to... what's the word... freshen up? I'm afraid I don't have anything handy. These uniforms could do with some pockets, no?" Dauntless then announced the exercises were done for today. Considering the circumstances, it seemed reasonable. Aníbal had wanted to continue, to do the group exercise and prove to whoever designed these filthy little mind tricks that they could do so much better if let loose. However, with Raina out of it and everyone still shocked by the recent blast, it was impossible to carry on. Some other day. Everyone could use a time out. "Of course", he replied to the instructor, "By the way, does this facility have any bathrooms nearby?"

Initiative 1d20+4=24

Aníbal was outwardly calm, his attention divided between Riley's progress through the simulation and Robin and Raina's concerned discussion of it. The bizarre scenario did seem tailored to Riley's skills and background, though what that background was Aníbal had not completely deciphered from the girls' conversation. The tough young man was from a different world, it seemed, one where this was what Freedom City looked like. It was beyond the scope of Aníbal's knowledge, but few things seemed impossible in this school. Ancient magic, beings from other dimensions... His own abilities seemed almost mundane by comparison. When Riley nearly fell, Aníbal arched his back out of reflex, ready to swoop in and catch him, but then relaxed his posture when he remembered the simulation was just that, an illusion of depth and height. Surely, he thought, they had some sort of safety precautions active? When Dauntless paused the simulation and offered Riley a break, he glanced at the metal giant. The big guy wasn't so bad after all, merely stuck with a thankless task. He probably wasn't the one who designed these tests, either. Who did? That disembodied voice from earlier? Riley continued on, and Aníbal observed his actions with interest. The situation was bizarre, and it was hard to tell what was the appropriate course of action. There was the famous Doctor Metropolis, changed somehow by the influence of something else. Riley took his shots, there was a horrifying, blood-curdling scream... And then, suddenly, an explosion. Aníbal flinched, instinctively moving his body to shield Raina from incoming debris. He pushed her towards Robin, but grabbed her and quickly helped her right herself when the debris stopped in mid-air before reaching them. "Sorry", he offered a sheepish smile and gently patted her arm, "I thought it would..." He cleared his throat and turned towards the macabre fragment of the fallen hero's skull suspended in front. Clearly, despite his strong performance, Riley too had messed up his exercise.