Avenger Assembled

Hope smiled back. "This is much better than the food I got at my old school, that's for sure," she said, "so it's hard not to appreciate it." She sighed a little, looking back at the others and muttered softly. "Sometimes I look at these kids and I just want to...I don't know, stand on the table and yell at them. I've seen them argue with the lunch ladies, tell them that their food is qu...is crap." Though sixteen herself, and small enough to look younger, Hope evidently had no problem talking about other high school students as kids. "They don't know how good they have it."

"Zhanni" is visibly cheating, covering its tracks with its near-invisibility. It's leaving the mark early before the computerized "gun" is fired, flying through the side of the track and to the other side, once even just flying backwards and pretending to cross the finish line ahead of Phalanx!

"Jack told me to tell you that he doesn't know if he'll be able to make it or not," said Merry, obviously repeating a speech she'd been given by someone else. "But that he's sure you don't need him staring over your shoulder to do a great job. Wow, are those your flowers?" Merry's delight at the sight of Stesha's creations was completely unfeigned, at least as far as the super-florist could tell. "Those are great! They're really going to love these in there." She beamed, then added, "Here, let me show you where we'll be going. We'll be setting up the flowers inside the house," she said, pushing open the door to reveal an oddly decorated house inside. The mansion's wallpaper was all dark purples and reds, the old-fashioned furniture made of dark, heavy wood. If not for the brightly burning old-fashioned incandescent lamps everywhere, Stesha might have thought she was in an old-fashioned funeral parlor. "We'll be setting up the flowers in the living room, the boudoir, and, ah, the kitchen." The house was mostly empty as Merry led the florists inside, with the exception of a few people who were obviously household staff. How many people still put their maids in black dresses and white aprons anymore?

Hope sat down opposite Erin and began to eat, digging into her fried chicken and mashed potatoes with obvious relish. After a few moments for both girls to get their bearings, the dimension-hopping former Resistance fighter began speaking again. "I shouldn't be such a pig," she confided to Erin as she nodded to her food, "but I just can't turn down a chance to eat something good like this after how I spent the last couple of years. Being able to go without food doesn't mean it stops tasting good."

Give me a Medicine check, Doc.

Suddenly, Dryad screamed a short, agonized, wordless syllable! Clutching at the side of her head, she collapsed to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the sound of her body hitting the ground heavy and painful-sounding. She lay twitching, breathing shallowly, as blood oozed from a cut on the side of her head. For his part, White Knight took a step back, bumping suddenly into the nearest wall, his hands up. "Wasn't me! Wasn't me!" Dryad looked to be in real distress even to Doctor Archeville's fast onceover, a look of despair and panic in her wide-stretched eyes as her body completely betrayed her.

There turned out to be very little fallout from Erin and Hope walking away from the ISSS. Erin saw the kids she had left behind enjoying themselves with a game of super-powered tug-of-war the next day, and it seemed as though her questions in therapy with Dr. Marquez turned a bit more to the subject of working in groups for a couple of sessions after that. But she faced no punishment for walking away from a volunteer organization meeting, and it seemed as though no one was going to mention it until a couple of days later. She was eating lunch in the cafeteria when she heard a familiar voice coming up in front of her across the nearly empty table where she sat. "Hey, Erin. Can I sit with you?" Looking up, Erin easily recognized the petite dynamo that was Hope Rogers, aka Agent H.

This is the OOC thread for Agent H's cultivating of Erin White.

Stesha got a quick call during business hours from Jack to double-check on the flowers, but he never did manage to call her during her personal time before it was time for she and her assistants to head over to the Midtown address where they'd been hired to install the flowers for the baby shower. The address Jack had given them led them to a big, rambling Victorian mansion in Midtown, a huge old house that still clung to life even with newer condos nearby. She and the rest of the florist team were met at the front gate by a pale woman in a black suit that matched her black hair and fingernails. "Hello, you must be from the florist," she said with a smile, standing on her high heels to look in the window of the van. "Here, I'll meet you at the front door once you've had a chance to park. I'm Merry, I'll be your...helper today."

This is the OOC thread where Stesha helps set up the flowers for the vampire baby shower.

"I can't say," said Odysseus, the tone of his voice suggesting a truth that concealed a gargantuan lie. "I can say truthfully that I am acquainted with everyone working for peace in the new Europe, and there is no counterpart of yours engaged in such a task. The differences between worlds is small in some area; profound in others. I can say that you've been luckier in some places than we were, but far worse in others." Archeville thought a smile might be tugging at the man's helmeted lips. "That is, I suppose, the way of the multiverse. As for how things became so stabilized, well, we owe much of that to the father of the new age. He has no counterpart on your world, but here he is the greatest of men. Would you care to meet him? I can arrange to have us both teleported to Freedom City."

Make a Notice check (DC 15). Hint: You might want to make sure you pass this one. ;)

Magni waved his hand and the situation changed all around Phalanx, the ground around him changing into a racetrack. Next to him was an odd, strangely familiar man who looked like a cross between a tornado and Johnny Rocket; a strange fusion of man and whirlwind. "I am Zhanni," came the thing's voice, the strangely musical tones neither male nor female. "Are you ready?" When Phalanx signaled that he was indeed ready, the test began, hero and djinn chasing each other over the simulated dirt track beneath their feet. But every time, no matter how fast Mike ran or flew, the strange air-spirit by his side outraced him!

"Our next test isn't really a test," said Seven, her 'eyes' still closed as her astral form hovered slightly in the air. "It's a question. Let's say your team captures a brutal murderer, a torturer and burglar who enjoys killing his victims after brutal home invasions. You know that there's been an irregularity in his capture and that it's very likely he will be released. You've probed his mind during the capture and know that his will is strong, though not so strong as yours. If you plant a command in his mind, he is likely to learn to work around it. But if you blank his mind entirely, you can ensure that he is never a threat to anyone again. What choice do you make, given the possible choice of a monster loose in the community?"

We'll say Wander automatically wins initiative vs. this PL 3 simulated thug. His Intimidate attempt is a disastrous failure. Go nuts.

"This is a four-stage finale," said Archer, taking a step back again from Wander. "We'll be giving you four opponents in ascending order of difficulty. Fight them exactly how you'd fight an enemy normally, don't worry about holding anything back. We're here to see how well you fight and evaluate your fighting style; there are no wrong answers here. Just fight, and fight well." He smiled at her. "Are you ready?" When Erin signaled she was ready, Archer called out, "Computer, run Quad-Fighting Program 1." The scene around Wander changed, the Doom Room warping into a quiet street in Freedom City. People walked by and the buildings rose high, and there was a man facing her with a gun! "All right, girl!" The grim-faced thug spat, "Let's have your purse!"

Avenger met Phantom's eyes levelly, the look in the tiny squares of his face just visible behind his double-mask distinctly odd. "Yes. Am familiar with the void. With Scarab's permission, suggest you disgorge at least one now for interrogation." He flexed his gloved fingers, the creaking leather one of the few involuntary noises the assembled heroes there had heard him make. "And then return them to homes. Possibly with a message for their employer about our dimension's extremely negative response to infiltrations on our territory."

"Would you like some introductions made?" asked Jack, succumbing to the temptations of the party. "I have a broad circle of friends," he told Thunderstanding warmly, automatically falling back on the flirtatious behavior that strongly suggested he'd be interested in adding to that circle that very night. He looked deeply at Grimalkin, thinking for a moment about how differently she might be acting around him if she knew he was the creepy, psychotic vigilante she'd been working with. "And you too, fair lady. There's quite a crowd out there. You never know who you're going to meet." Geckoman was just scoping out the party, looking around for those who could be appreciate his awesomeness, when he heard a familiar and beautifulvoice behind him. "Hi there." When he turned around, who to his wondering eyes should appear but the most beautiful girl at Claremont Academy: the unspeakably gorgeous and ridiculously out of his league Student Body, aka Daisy Gibbons, whose superhuman attractiveness made something monstrously delicious out of her school uniform. "I like your costume" She gave him a smile to melt the socks off a man four times Chris McKenzie's age, offering her perfect hand to him.

Unfortunately, Geckoman's chaperone may be harder to elude than he realizes. Mwa-ha-ha-ha!

I have already made the requisite rolls.

Malice will "die" the way he lived. In the middle of a gigantic explosion! :twisted:

Wander's blow hit the gong with tremendous force, the air visibly vibrating as the gong shook with a deep, loud note far down into the bass that reverberated on and on. The gong was indeed very tough, the toughest thing she'd ever punched, but when she pulled her fists back she saw she'd put a small divot in the super-tough metal. Over the noise of the still-reverberating gong, Jones called out encouragingly, "Wow! You hit like a tank, Erin! Great job! Don't worry about the gong, impervium's a smart metal; it heals itself up! It'll be fine in the morning. C'mon, team," he encouraged the others, shouting for a moment as the gong's long, long reverberations finally settled into nothingness. "Get it right on the chin!"

Couple more small edits, switching Edge's damage effect over to a Selective Burst Area.

Avenger steepled his fingers, the gritty vigilante dealing with the sudden outbreak of mysticism with surprising grace. "Have encountered this phenomenon before. What knowledge have you gained about the prisoners by enclosing them? Necessary to visit them inside to speak to them?" He rose to his feet, fingers spread out on the table. "How long can you confine them? Banish them in the aftermath of interrogation?"

DC 20 Will Save, Divine. And a DC 30 Toughness Save, Grim. That was a crit! :shock: