Avenger Assembled

Entangled thoroughly by vines, Thunder gave Ace a look of cold, barely bottled rage that looked alien on Ray Gardener's face. "I had promised you to Johnny," he said with distinct fury, his square jaw clenching, "but I think he'll have to be content with scraping you up and shoving you in his veins when we're done with this miserable place. Or," he suggested, tugging unsuccessfully at Fleur's vines in a way that made her wrap an extra few layers around his arms, "I'll give Anarchy some time with your servants and then turn them loose on you. Think you'll look good roasting on a spit?"

Making out with his hot girlfriend when neither of them were wearing a lot of clothes had Mark's mind going in many directions; well, one direction, with many possible paths to get there. But it was unlikely they'd have the privacy for any of that for a while, and besides, there was a party. "That was fun," he said when they were done, both of them a little red-faced. "Let's go back to the party," he suggested. "See how everyone else is doing. We've got the whole weekend."

Ivan scowled, his heavy eyebrows furrowing. "Kantor." he spat, his disgust obvious. "His sorcery is a blight on even the civilization of the fascists." He thought carefully, comparing his Soviet political education with what he'd seen of the attitudes and plans of the West. "You speak to us. Not the Allies of Freedom. I take it your super-soldiers are needed elsewhere?" Perhaps the Second Front that the Allies had been promising Stalin since 1942 was finally in the offing, he thought, though he was too polite to make an issue of it. He'd had experience enough on this side of the war to see the valor of Americans, British, and French alike!

Trade-Offs: None Unspent PP: 0 Characters Name: Ivan Petrovich Voroshilov (Ivan began using his patronymic during the war to protect his powerful adopted father, and afterwards he opted to maintain that separation between his public life and his private identity.) Alternate Identity: Ivan Petrovich (among friends and family), Comrade Bomb [Golden Age and in the Russian Press], the Red Menace [silver Age American Press] Age: 90 (looks 25) (Born January 17, 1920) Gender: Male Height: 5'11" Weight: 180 lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black Description: Ivan Petrovich was very tall for a man of his generation, and is still a tall, square-shouldered individual who carries himself as a soldier. With thick black hair and big, bushy black eyebrows, his Caucasian heritage is readily apparant. In the 40s his costume was a full-face mask and modified Red Army officer's uniform; in the 50s and 60s he wore a menacing, polished red suit of armor emblazoned with a massive yellow hammer and sickle across the chest. These days he wears civilian garb, concentrating on casual, anonymous clothes. History: Ivan Petrovich volunteered for duty in the Red Army on June 23, 1941 for a whole host of reasons. His beloved motherland was under siege; the fascist armies having just crossed the western border with terrible, destructive intent. His family duties nearly commanded it; his father Piotr was one of the leading officers in the Red Army, a close ally of Joseph Stalin himself. He'd always planned to join the Army anyway, though he might have preferred to finish college first. (He was just twenty years old, a third-year history student at Moscow University.) Literate and with powerful friends, the young patriot volunteered for front-line duty and was plunged into Hell. His privileged life as the son of a powerful apparatchik had been no training for life in the Great Patriotic War, the bitter, bloody fighting on the Eastern Front that was quite simply a clash between civilizations. The Ubersoldaten were the worst. American superheroes saw the Nazi super-soldiers at their best; vicious, murdering thugs staging propaganda raids across the Atlantic and the English Channel, acting as ground and air support for beleaguered German troops after D-Day. In the East, with instructions to exterminate, the Ubersoldaten were at their worst. Whole divisions died in those terrible early days when the Ubermensch walked the battlefield; Donar's terrible lightning bolts blasting legions from the sky, while die Eule killed Soviet innocents by the dozens. Ivan survived many of those early terrible engagements, finally winning a transfer to Moscow thanks to his father's influence and his own terror of the Nazi onslaught. But Moscow was no better; his job reading and delivering radio messages from the front reminding him only of his own cowardice. At least there he had a chance to meet the Bogatyr; the mystic knight who was leader of the People's Heroes, the most powerful superhero in the Soviet Union. (Never the most powerful man, of course; everyone knew who THAT was.) Like most young men of his generation, Ivan worshipped the armored hero, and (particularly after one young lady spurned him for a coward), Ivan vowed to do everything in his people to join the ranks of the Soviet Union's super-soldiers. When he went back to the battlefield, _he_ would be the titan. In early 1942, the young lieutenant got his wish. Volunteering for Projekt Hammer, the Soviet version of America's Patriot Program, Ivan was injected with a combination of the American super-soldier serum, Soviet-made radioactive salts, and blood cells gathered from Kal-Zed during a particularly bloody battle between the most powerful Ubersoldaten and the People's Heroes. A dozen other men in the same program had nothing happen, or died horribly, while Ivan...well, for the first few days everyone thought nothing had happened to him, either. Deeply disconsolate, he sat in his room in Projekt Hammer, turning his Order of the Red Star medallion over and over in his hands, and hurled the decoration against the wall in anger. His quarters exploded. He'd internalized the cosmic power of the Ubermensch, all right, gaining the ability to shape and manipulate the basic energy of the universe, but with some limitations: he couldn't actually shoot beams of energy from his eyes or hands like Kal-Zed, rather, all he could do was charge objects and detonate them with powerful percussive force. It didn't take him long to realize, though, that this was no curse! The first time he blew the turret off a captured German panzer, the new super-soldier laughed like a schoolboy. He was free, and he was going to save his country! He debuted as Comrade Bomb at the Battle of Stalingrad, leading a ground offensive that tore through the undermanned German lines like paper. Near tireless, able to run faster than a jeep, and take hits from the toughest Nazi weapons, he was one of the most useful members of the People's Heroes. As the war went on, Ivan found himself traveling: the Soviet government's policy was cooperation with the West, which meant cooperation between the "superpowers." Ivan spoke several languages and came from a trusted, powerful family; he was a natural choice for such missions. He was supposed to spy on his counterparts, naturally, a job he did with ill grace. He was not particularly talented at deception, but his handlers were able to do that job for him while he played the solid, stalwart defender of Mother Russia to perfection. Comrade Bomb fought alongside the Allies of Freedom on more than one occasion, becoming a 'reserve' member when the Soviet Union forbade him any further involvement with Western superheroes. It was in Berlin that everything went terribly wrong. He was back in the front lines after several months behind the Western Front lines with the Allies, leading the Soviet charge into Berlin. He blew the doors off Hitler's chancellery and blasted his way through the remaining SS, becoming one of the first human beings to behold Hitler's corpse, and celebrated with the Red Army that night as never before. But the brutality of his own army sickened him as he saw for the first time the atrocities that the Soviets inflicted on the Germans in grim repayment for the horrors of the Holocaust, and the far worse news of the murder of the Allies made things even worse. No wonder there'd been no Ubersoldaten in Berlin! If only he'd been there... Something went out of him after that. He accepted assignment to Siberia without complaint, the better to make sure that no one stole the glory of the fall of the Reich from Stalin. With some reluctance, he took an assignment in Korea during the bitter war there, where his battles with the Atomic Brigade meant he was away from the motherland during Stalin's purges of the first generation of the People's Heroes. Fighting old allies was hard, very hard. He returned at war's end and Stalin's death, but his political unreliability and personal depression meant no one really trusted him. He slipped into obscurity through the 50s, occasionally remerging when the KGB needed a superpowered fist. He'd noticed by now that he wasn't getting older, and that he recovered eventually even from injuries that should have killed him. Better men than he had lived. His father, a Stalin crony, fell from grace after the Great Man's death, and lived off his son's salary until his death in 1969. He re-emerged in 1961 after the Freedom League reformed in the United States, his wartime experience making him a natural choice to act as second-in-command for the new People's Heroes. Outfitted in a menacing suit of red armor, Comrade Bomb became ally and enemy to American superheroes, battling SHADOW and the Grue, trading punches with Daedalus and even the Centurion, doing his best to carry on for justice and peace, honoring his duty to his nation and the strong moral core of a national hero. In 1974, with detente on the march, he took advantage of peace and good order to retire to teach and train a new generation of Soviet heroes, marrying Nightshade, the first Romanian superhero, a year after that. Their son Piotr was born in 1976, just after the American bicentennial. As the Cold War heated up again, he returned to duty in the 1980s, leaving Nightshade to raise Piotr while he fought in Afghanistan. He played his own small role in the demise of the Soviet Union in the late 1980s, simply refusing to use his powers against protestors on the streets of Warsaw and Moscow, leaving Gorbachev no choice but to pursue a reform agenda. In 1991, the Soviet Union fell...and so did his marriage. Nightshade was horrified at the idea of going back to Romania, much less the wealth and position that had lifted her out of extreme poverty in her homeland, and joined Blazing Star's conspiracy against the new government. Ivan helped break that coup, exchanged words with his soon-to-be former wife, and retired into another deep depression as his old world crumbled. He came out of action in 1993 alongside his teenage son Kliment, the Crimson Bomb, only to watch in horror as the Centurion died and the world nearly burned in the fires of the Terminus. He retired again, this time for what he thought was for good, and slipped into relative obscurity. His son is the Crimson Bomb now, having inherited his father's explosive powers and mother's flight and invulnerability to make him one of the most powerful superheros in Europe. As for Comrade Bomb, Ivan has spent the last few years traveling the world, occasionally battling supervillains, letting his skills slip as he lives off his substantial pension. It'll take a big bump, or an old friend, to bring him out of his depression. Personality & Motivation: Ivan is an immortal whose life has not been particularly charmed. Given to Russian black moods and the occasional bout of depression, in happier days he's a convival, chatty sort of fellow given to dry humor. He opens up best around old friends, those who remember the bad years of war and fellowship, and is usually reserved around others, something often mistaken for Russian taciturny. This makes some people think he's stupid, an impression he doesn't work to correct. He's a superhero because of his sense of duty to others, having outlived the patriotism that was his watchword by dint of surviving the death of his nation. Powers & Tactics: Comrade Bomb was a terror on the battlefields of World War II, a fast, mobile combatant who could lead a T-34 tank division right down the enemy's throat and expect to emerge essentially unscathed. In the armor he wore during the Silver Age, he could at least expect to trade punches with paragons like the Centurion and Horus the Avenger. With his skills somewhat atrophied and his armor gone, the Bomb is still a serious threat. His usual strategy will be to stay on the move during a fight, leaping and running while plowing through enemy mooks with rapidly hurled objects and large explosions, shifting to more focused blasts for dealing with more powerful targets. He had a lot of options in combat, and can usually at least delay or blind all but the most powerful opponents. If grappled or forced into one-on-one melee combat, he'll usually drop exploding objects at his feet, forcing his opponents to deal with his powers up close and personal. Complications: Enemy (SHADOW, Ubersoldaten) Fame (Comrade Bomb was one of the greatest heroes of the Soviet Union, a famous champion of the people whose picture hung in classrooms and whose exploits were assigned in textbooks. Even in Russia, his name is still remembered and honored.) Reputation (No-Good Commie Rat-Fink!) Rivalry (Crimson Bomb, Nightshade [Anna Goldman was an outcast in Romania, her natural abilities to manipulate chemicals giving her flight, super-strength, invulnerability, and a poisonous touch, as well sustaining her life through unnatural years. She loved the power and authority that came with being a Soviet super-soldier, ultimately more than she loved her son and husband. (She'd only married and had children because it was what the state wanted, anyway). When the Soviet government fell, she joined Blazing Star's coup against Yeltsin, and when that failed she became a mercenary supervillain. When Ivan watches the news and sees the poverty in his homeland, sometimes he wonders if she wasn't right...] Stats: 2+6+4+4+6+6 = 28pp Str: 12 (+1) Dex: 16 (+3) Con: 14 (+2) Int: 14 (+2) Wis: 16 (+3) Cha: 16 (+3) Combat: 12+12 = 24pp Attack: +6 (+10 with Cosmic Array) Grapple: +7 Defense: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Knockback: -5 (-4 flat-footed) Initiative: +3 Saves: 5+4+4 = 13pp Toughness: +10 (+9 flat-footed) (+2 Con, +1 Defensive Roll, +7 Protection) Fortitude: +7 (+2 Con, +5) Reflex: +7 (+3 Dex, +4) Will: +7 (+3 Wis, +4) Skills: 68r = 17pp Bluff 4 (+7), Diplomacy 4 (+7), Disable Device 8 (+10), Escape Artist 8 (+11), Knowledge [History] 4 (+6), Knowledge [Tactics] 4 (+6), Notice 8 (+11), Pilot 2 (+5), Sense Motive 8 (+11), Sleight of Hand 8 (+11), Stealth 4 (+7), Survival 4 (+7), Languages 2 (English, German; Base: Russian) Feats: 13pp Accurate Attack, Defensive Roll, Dodge Focus 4, Evasion, Jack-Of-All-Trades, Leadership, Move-By Action, Power Attack, Throwing Mastery, Uncanny Dodge (Auditory), Powers: 20+35 = 55pp Container 4 Superior Physiology (20 pp) Immunity 5 (aging, disease, own powers, poison, starvation and thirst), Leaping 3 (x10) [Dynamic] DAP: Speed 3 (50 MPH) Protection 7 Regeneration 2 (Resurrection 2 (1/day) Cosmic Array (32 pp base -3 drawbacks + 5 APs= 34 pp) (Drawbacks on Array: Power Loss [without medium; Uncommon, Minor, -1 pp], Reduced Range [one fifth normal maximum range, -2 pp]) Cosmic Energy Control 10 (Extra: Area [Explosion]) (PFs: Richochet, Triggered) (32 pp) [cosmic/bludgeoning] AP: Cosmic Energy Control 10 (Extra: Autofire) (PFs: Accurate 2) (32 pp) [cosmic/ballistic] AP: Cosmic Energy Control 10 (PFs: Accurate 2, Improved Critical 2, Precise Shot 2, Extras: Penetrating 5) [32PP] [cosmic/slashing] AP: Dazzle 10 (visual and auditory) (PFs: Accurate 2) (32 pp) [light/sound] AP: Drain Toughness 10 (Extra: Affects Objects Only) and Strike 10 (Extra: Area [Explosion) (PFs: Precise, Triggered) (32 pp) [cosmic] AP: Strike 10 (Extras: Area (Cone) [Targeted], Selective) (PFs: Accurate 2) (32PP). [cosmic/ballistic] Drawbacks: DC Block: Explosion Blast-Ref DC 20/Tou DC 25 (Bruised/Injured) Autofire Blast-Tou DC 25 (Bruised/Injured) Blast-Tou DC 25 (Bruised/Injured) Dazzle-Ref DC 20/Fort DC 20 (Blinded/Deafened) Drain/Explosion Strike-Fort DC 20 linked with Tou DC 25 (Bruised/Injured) Strike-Tou DC 25 (Bruised/Injured) Costs: Abilities (28) + Combat (24) + Saves (13) + Skills (17) + Feats (13) + Powers (55) = 150pp

You know, we never got around to giving Shaen points for making this (very active!) NPC.

aka, "I am Comrade Bomb."

"I am Lieutenant Ivan Petrov of the 2nd Belorussian Front," said Ivan politely, switching to Russian to give the name of the Army division he was technically attached to despite his service with the People's Heroes. "But on the Eastern Front, I am designated товарищ бомба." Code names and secret identities were part of Soviet military policy, a conscious effort to keep their super-soldiers from overshadowing the accomplishments of "the workers and peasants of the Soviet Union." But Ivan had his orders to cooperate and play along with the Westerners...and, truthfully, it was far easier this way. After all, weren't they all, well, comrades now?

"No, I think that's a great idea," said Jack immediately, tightening his hug for just a moment. "And...and something holy as well," he admitted. "I can show you ways to do that. Things that I'll be able to pass, but any hostile vampire will be chased out." He caught her look and added, "Yes, I know you know more magic than I ever will, but I do have some vampire secrets." He grinned wryly.

Mark blinked at that, but recovered quickly. Putting his arms around her and looking soulfully down into her eyes, he said, "Faith, honey, you're the greatest." Was he supposed to say he loved her? He had rescued her from imminent peril, so maybe he was supposed to...well, that would come later, he was sure. "Come here." He picked making out at that juncture, bending down and kissing her soulfully, running his hands through her hair as the waves lapped at their ankles.

DC 26 Bluff check, with some help from Taunts.

A deliberate, heavy knock on the door earned a call from the Chief, and after a few moments a new figure entered the room. With perfect protocol, Lieutenant Ivan Petrov entered and snapped off a salute to the ranking Allied officers in the room. Behind the half-open unmarked officer's greatcoat he wore, Ace Danger and Bombshell could make out an immaculate Red Army uniform. There were certainly more Soviet officers visiting London these days than there had been in the past, and the black-haired, black-eyed man with the pale face and foreign uniform looked like any number of them. "Sir!" he said with a Russian's slow pace and distinct Slavic accent. "Lieutenant Ivan Petrov! Reporting as ordered." From his overflowing pockets, he produced a neatly folded sheet of orders, handing them to the chief with military precision. His gaze swept over Ace Danger and Bombshell with a trifle more humor than his martial bearing showed; he knew enough to know that these were far more than simple imperialist espionage agents! His work with the Allies of Freedom, though behind bright red face mask and code name, had taught him not to distrust British and Americans on sight. Well, not entirely, anyway...

We're out of rounds, too.

"I can heal it," said Jack, giving Taylor a significant look. "Though I may need some help later." He looked at Dr. Archeville, looked at the others, and said, "Vampire society has only a small handful of rules...all of which I've broken in the last few months. And especially today." he said, reaching over and squeezing Taylor's hand for a moment. "The Dragon is the master of vampires. The progenitor of the most powerful bloodline; the only vampire who could fight the most powerful beings on Earth to a standstill and walk away without a scratch. Dracula. My great-grandsire."

Avenger waved his hand at the portal, feeling the prickles go up on the back of his neck as he turned his back on the evil Dark Star across the dimensions. "Feh. I might have known you were as cowardly as your Other. You can't even do genocide with your own hands, you have to do it with rocks from the sky!" He looked up at Jack of Blades, his lip curling, and moved his lips to murmur "Get behind the portal." "If it weren't for the poor girl you accidentally killed while shooting at my wife, I'd think you couldn't kill anything at all!" He spun on his heels, pointed at Evil Dark Star, and declared, "Why don't you come in here and say that to my face?!"

Avenger made a small noise, rather like a cough. "Do what you have to do," he said to Phantom, glad he trusted Taylor. He wasn't at all sure that he liked where he was going, but it more than beat the alternative of letting that unholy magic permeate their friend there. "Trust in you is absolute. But not in me. Atlas, be ready."

Within a few minutes, all of Young Freedom had successfully made their way through Hellion's portal, the flaming hole in reality carrying them to the village where they'd left the White Lion and his party. With a little coaxing, the terrified proles followed as well, clinging to each other fearfully as they took in their new surroundings. When they saw they hadn't been plunged back into the fires of the Terminus, however, the motley crew of humanoids relaxed ever-so-fractionally. For his part, the still-filthy Edge was still trying to recuperate from his experience at the hands of Shadivan Steelgrave, and watched silently as the distant volcano boiled over with flaming-hot lava. The White Lion, the Star at his side, hobbled over to the teens to say, "From what the locals tell me, the lava flows away from the valley, down into the lakebed below. We're in no danger here." He looked over the battered group, giving Edge an especially careful look, before addressing Psyche. "You seem to be the leader here. Does anyone on your team need help?"

After a long, soulful kiss, Mark pulled back to beam down at Faith. "That was great," he told her warmly. "You're a good kisser." He'd had better, but she was real nice and eager about it, so who was he to judge? His arms still around her, he asked, "You wanna go back to the party? Or stay here and make out some more?"

When Taylor arrived in Jack's office, she found her husband sitting behind his desk, looking exhausted. At the sight of her, he looked up and gave a genuine smile. "Hey. How's it going out there? You guys gossiping yet?" That last smile showed teeth. "Because if so, I wanna get Dark Star here so we can...split the difference, I guess." Not that Derrick would actually have that kind of conversation with him.

They are not cloaked.

Mark wasn't interested in going swimming; for all that he'd visited Atlantis a couple of times as a kid, he'd never actually enjoyed swimming in the ocean. The pool was for swimming; the beach was for wading. And besides, while the ocean water was much warmer than it had any right to be in February, it wasn't as comfortable as the pool was probably going to be. "Hmm," said Mark, wading in experimentally with Faith at his side, "this isn't quite as nice as I thought it would be," he admitted. Smiling at Faith, he put his arms around her, an enjoyable embrace indeed when they were both in their beach outfits. "The company is especially nice, though. Maybe we can get James to come out here later and warm up the ocean especially for us. In the meantime, it looks like we've got the beach all to ourselves." He leaned in with an easy confidence and planted a kiss on her lips.

Looking very pleased with himself, Mark hopped out of Mike's arms on their landing. "That was great! Thanks, Faith." He smiled at her, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "Let's go get that lunch?" he suggested to everyone. "And then, back to training."

"Have similar abilities myself. Suggest we work as a team," said Avenger, giving Dead Head a level look. "I go in, and if I'm uninjured, you follow me. Phantom and Atlas can stop us if something goes...awry." It actually made more sense to send in Dead Head first, Jack mused, since he was pretty sure he could take the shovel-wielding zombie if the situation called for it. But he was no coward to send the other man out ahead of him, even if he wasn't a man at all. If no one objected, Avenger did indeed go in first.

Jack threw up his hands against the flare of brilliant white light just in time as the eruption of magical energy from Phantom chased away the darkness all around them, a flare of pure celestial light that erupted from the powerful mage like the very embodiment of truth and goodness, blasting away all the monsters that lay hidden in the darkness around them in a rush of power. Within an instant, all the bad guys were gone, leaving the heroes alone in the big room. "You did it!"

"Call if you need me." When Taylor released Jack's hand, he simply disappeared. He didn't go far, though, instead lurking in a corner in case Taylor needed him. Wait, is this inappropriate? he wondered. What if they start talking about me? He debated with himself the moral proprieties of spying on one's wife talking to her girlfriend, a debate that happened to stretch out while he continued to lurk.

Jack took her hand as they walked up to the Chun house, giving her a nervous smile. He couldn't really tell Taylor that he felt better about this than almost anything they'd done since they'd found out about her condition. It was so normal, but so abnormal; just like them. Probably good not to let that on, given all the worries she'd had about it. He let Taylor open the door, a vampire's reflex even after getting an invitation.