Avenger Assembled

So far everything looks good, Warmonger. I just have to run a quick check with Doc Arch, and I may be able to give you your first approval. :D

OK, should those of us shifting through the rubble start making Notice/extended Search checks at this juncture? Avenger is looking for survivors or anything else dangerous. Probably not at the center of the explosion. If so: Notice: (I really should use Skill Mastery): 15 Search (1): 23 Search (2): 10 Search (3): 5 Search (4): 17 Search (5) 21 Also, is Malice is visible at this juncture? Is he notorious enough in March to be recognized on sight?

Have an HP for the Complication, Fell. The results of Student Body's Bluff check with Boosted Charisma are...obscene. I'll leave it up to the PCs to describe their reactions/resistance to the sad little icon of beauty; but the NPCs are certainly moved.

A little belatedly, Pompadour remembered what happened when you talked to girls like Daisy Gibbons like that. "Bawwww!" She burst into tears in a sudden explosion of pain, her face screwing up in the angst and pain that only a teenager could summon. Her angry pain seemed to come boiling out of her lovely face like a volcano, suddenly shifting the attention of half the bystanders in the room from the crazy teenager on the mushrooms to the very, very, unhappy teenager. "Why do you have to be so mean!?" she screamed, pointing right at Pompadour. "Why would you even talk like that when I was trying to be nice to you?!" Everyone was staring now, and none of the looks seemed to be friendly. Even the people who Student Body's unspeakable good looks weren't ensnaring weren't at all thrilled at the man who'd just told off the teenage girl half his size, or who'd disrupted their party, or who'd been involved at all in what on Earth those teenagers were doing over there. Pompadour realized that between him and the door was a very large man who looked decidedly unimpressed. "You want to watch how you talk to my students?" the gigantic man with the improbable muscles behind the suit boomed. Peering down at Pompadour, a wall of muscle behind an expensive suit, Leeroy Hawke leaned close. "It takes a real big man to talk that way to a girl who can't even drive." He turned and pointed at Student Body, who was now being comforted by her date and several other men who had taken a serious interest in her case. It was like watching moths approaching a flame, closer and closer, men and women both sympathetic to the plight of the so-sad girl who looked less like a teen sexpot and more like a child who'd just seen her favorite toy crushed under the foot of a big mean man. The former Turbo-Boost studied Pompadour for a moment, then put a hand on his shoulder, looking almost sympathetic to the other man's plight for a moment. Hawke was in his late 30s, but looked older, a legacy of the Max he'd been on back in the day. Now that they were so close together, Pompadour recognized Hawke as well, the former supervillian having been a frequent speaker at the community service lectures that had been a requirement of Pompadour's time as a guest of a certain facility run by the state in the Freedom City area. Hawke had done some hard time for some fairly hard crimes, though he'd turned himself around after getting out of stir and made something of himself on the talk circuit. "I thought I recognized you." Hawke drew back, looking down at Pompadour. "I know what you're going through. Going straight where the whole world can see it is a tough ball of wax." He shook his massive head sorrowfully. "But if you don't go back there and apologize, gossip about this party's going to be how the Sinister Pompadour is such a big man that he makes little girls cry. And when _that_ girl cries, the whole city hears it." Nearby, someone snapped a picture on their cameraphone. Inside the men's bathroom, Jack put his ear against the door, listening...then put his face in his palm as he walked away stealthily before it could swing open. Come to a nice human party. You'll fit in there great! Yeah, great! He settled down in a stall and closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool porcelain behind him. I don't know how to talk to people if I'm not beating them up or trying to finesse my way into their neck! What's wrong with me? Oh, right, vampire.

Aiype, the carnage! Mah tiny mind!

Yay! OK, did you have anything else you wanted out of this thread?

When Seven was reassembled entirely, she released her bow, the arrow firing off in a single, mathematically perfect arc that hurled itself far into the sunset. With that she turned to Psyche, a smile on her face. "Congratulations, Psyche. You have passed your test. Come rouse yourself, and meet me in the gardens so we can talk." With a sisterly smile, she faded from view entirely, leaving Alex alone in her mental landscape with her victory.

And yes, Jack is there, watching. The louse.

Jack Faretti was a brave man, one willing to face the perils of a monstrous enemy, a wicked foe, or a terrible physical threat at any moment. But faced with talking to the woman who he'd treated shabbily on a date and dumped without a word in-edge wise, he lacked the courage to actually stop her and speak to her as she made her way out of the house and out to the floral van.

I believe you both have one each. But since you've just acquired a new Enemy, you can both have a fresh one. So you're both at 2.

Have an HP for your brand-new Enemy complication, Ecal.

Ecal, you are Confused. Roll a d20 to decide what you do: CONFUSED BEHAVIOR TABLE D20 BEHAVIOR 1-2 Attack the user of the Confuse effect. 3-5 Act normally. 6-10 Do nothing but babble incoherently. 11-14 Flee at top possible speed. 15-20 Attack the nearest creature.

"That's really interesting," said Jack agreeably. "We need more people out in space who are willing to fight the tough fight, but the government's never seemed very into that." His eyes lit up as he thought for a moment, summoning up his incredibly basic knowledge of all things space yet again. "Hey, speaking of space travel, have you ever been to Farside City? Do they still have that tall evil queen there?" He gave Dark Star a game little smile, not bothering to hide that he was walking on entirely new ground. "I may not be astronaut material, but I do like space." Growing increasingly uncomfortable with Ace's investigations, Jack took this opportunity to set his drink down and toddle off to the men's room, where he promptly disappeared inside a stall. Clarence flinched, definitely intimidated by Geckoman's tough talk. A moment later, though, he mastered himself and gave Chris a glare that...well, it was probably for the best Battlecry didn't have any powers centered around his vision, because if he'd had heat vision he'd have burned the younger boy to cinders. His gaze suddenly faltered, though, as he looked at Geckoman, a look of patently false concern on his face. "Kenzie, are you all right? You don't look so good..."

Contrary to the stories spread by certain poorly-researched roleplaying games, vampires don't actually sleep. Those vampires descended directly from Vlad Dracula, in fact, don't even need to take shelter during the day. There were no days off for young vampires working their way up in the world of undead politics, a necessity of which Jack was only too keenly well-aware. A normal man might have had trouble running daytime errands all day and fighting crime all night, but it had been a long time since Jack Faretti had been a normal man. He had the good fortune, or maybe it was misfortune, to actually be in Riverside the moment of the explosion; shopping for a deathday present intended for one city elder on behalf of another elder too indolent to actually leave his Bayview mansion to go shopping. It was all tedious and deadly dull, the sort of embarassingly trite activity that sires and dams usually didn't describe to their prospective fledglings when they told stories of the undead. At the sound of the blast, Jack dropped the necklace he was holding and spun around on his heel, blinking back tears as he stared into the sun and saw the rising cloud of smoke over the neighborhood. "Get down and call 911," he told the frightened shopkeeper, summoning his own courage to run out of the shop and stare at the sight of the huge rising cloud. Some people around him were running in terror from the massive blast that had to have been only a few blocks away; others were watching, their eyes open wide with fear, a few people around him had been hurt by broken glass. It was ten o'clock in the morning. Avenger hardly ever came out in daylight; usually only often enough to prove that he wasn't actually a vampire. Jack was hungry, too, not having fed yet that day. But he could see the fire from here. People might be hurt. People might be dying. Jack had seen enough dead bodies to know he didn't want to be responsible for anymore. He ducked into the darkest alley he could find and actually said a short prayer for strength, even as part of him laughed bitterly at the obscenity of the damned undead calling on prayers to any deity. He was a monster. But he was also a hero. After a few moments of quietude, he moved away where no one could see him. It was Avenger who made his way towards the blast, on foot by rooftop with the sunlight sapping much of his abilities, but none of his hungers. "Can't let people suffer because of me. Can't." When he finally made his way into the neighborhood where the blast itself had occurred, Avenger looked up at the blast and made a small, involuntary noise. None of Avenger's faux-loner dialogue; none of Jack's own words, seemed adequate to sum up the horrors of what he was witnessing. Finally, when he'd mastered himself, Avenger moved closer, down at ground-level to investigate the disaster.

LF, what I will let you do is spend that last HP to acquire the Dedication feat, which will give you the effects (+2 on social rolls vs. the charms of 'mean girls') that you're looking for. If that's what you choose to do, go ahead and successfully resist. If that's what you opt to do, I trust that you will successfully roleplay Pompadour resisting the charms of an unspeakably gorgeous pretty face (via extra effort and multiple HP) as the heroic moment for the character that it is. If not, take your Fascination like a champ, and don't taunt the unspeakably gorgeous goddess a second time. Make a DC 18 Will save, Ecal. I also need DC 20 Notice checks from, hmm, let's call it Geckoman and Pompadour.

"My...my strings," whimpered Dryad suddenly, her voice pushed out of a dead throat by sheer force of will, "my strings are cut. I have nothing anymore. Please save me." She turned her wide eyes on Doctor Archeville, the knowledge of mortality, of doom, written large on her face. "I don't want to die. I tried to do good. I tried to be a hero," she whispered. "I don't want the world to...throw me away..."

Our order is: Doctor Archeville Odysseus and Dark Star Dark Star is entangled and moving at half-speed. Odysseus, tethered to a man easily capable of shattering the speed of light, is fighting the urge to yell "Jane! Stop this crazy thing!"

A beam of pure black light burst again from the staggering Seven's hand, the beam whizzing easily past Psyche's head. When Psyche's mind reached out to lash at her, Seven gave a horrible scream as her psychic avatar exploded! As she fell apart to fragments of multi-colored crystal that rapidly littered the landscape all around her, the mental landscape all around Psyche fell completely silent and still. She was alone in her own mind for a long moment before she heard Seven's voice. "Your mind is a powerful thing, Alex. Show me how you can use it to build."

The two teenagers walked out of the Doom Room practically arm-in-arm, happily celebrating what had evidently been an extremely successful test. The sun outside was bright and shining with the promise of a new day, the two young men having bonded in the way only young men can. "Come, Michael! To the cafeteria!" Magni shot Michael a look and asked, as they got out of earshot, "Have you considered a warrior's name for yourself, Michael? If so, might I recommend...Viking?" He laughed, happy as a clam.

Odysseus' terrible Initiative: 12

Just as Dark Star was about to break atmosphere, he felt something like iron bars close around his own insubstantial body and nearly jerked to a halt, only his fantastic powers keeping him moving. Looking back he saw a now fully-armored Odysseus coming up behind him fast, glowing, half-visible silver chains having wrapped themselves right around Dark Star's midsection. "Fools!" came Odysseus' voice, pumped in by radio to Dark Star's enhanced senses. "Don't you know what they'll do to you!? I'm trying to save your lives and your world!"

Dark Star is Snared! Which means he can only move at half speed, instead of at a bajillion miles an hour. Dark Star, make a Flight check at half-strength vs. 18

Pompadour, can you resist Student Body's style? (Resist the sleaze! ) Have two HP for the complication and the GM Fiat.

By the time Jack came back to the small group of people, it wasn't a group anymore. He shot Dark Star a look that was hard for the alien hero to read, some nameless emotion passing in his eyes. "Well...that was effective." He shot Dark Star a sudden, nigh-wicked grin as he raised his glass to his lips. "Guess I'm not as socially inept as I thought I was." Looking around, he took a step closer to Dark Star and added, "So, Dark Star, tell me about the current political situation around the Solar System. Do you think the Lor are serious about their relationship with humanity?" I hope that made sense. I'd hate for Dark Star to realize that I have no idea what on Earth I'm talking about here. Across the room, Clarence Beaudrie gave Chris Kenzie a truly malevolent sneer. "I didn't say anything you can't hear down in the gutter, boy," he murmured icily to Chris. "I think it's your curfew, Kenzie. Why don't you run home to your mommy now and make sure she's okay?" Behind him, Daisy suppressed a giggle, batting her eyelashes at Chris coquettishly if he objected to her obvious enjoyment of the spat between the two boys. When Pompadour passed by, she caught his attention and gave him a huge, gorgeous smile. "Oh, I hope we're more than just banal, sir," she said with warm, soothing syrup in her voice.

Actually, she needs to make a Reflex save. Which she makes. And so do you. For something else. Your DC is 20.