Avenger Assembled

Oh, wait, I see what happened. I dropped the g, I didn't repeat the in. He said, "Goin' in through the ducts", not "Go in through the ducts." Your call on what she does, but Avenger's certainly going to come up with a better cover story if she gets confused and goes through the ducts.

Ah...Annlynn wasn't supposed to see Avenger do that little stunt. :shock: He turned out the lights where they were, too, the better to keep her from noticing. If she thinks he has a superpower, she might just think he's a teleporter. Or just very very sneaky; Raven probably does that trick all the time in the comics.

Sidetrack swings and misses at Jack's face, that terrible glowing fist passing within inches of his face. She swears an incredibly inventive swear in reply, growling at him with as much ferocity as he showed her. Over at the other end of things, Targette grins wickedly, a smile on her face as she laughs silently at the poor battered Moira. She's just raising her pistol when Sidetrack calls, "Corazon! Over here!" Targette shrugs a little, pistol still in hand, and focuses on Jack. Her eyes flare yellow in the same terrible light that she just used on Moira, but now it's Jack whose eyes glow in reply! He staggers, but stays upright, though he's in pain too. "My brain?! What did you do!" He swings again at Sidetrack, missing by a country mile.

Okay, now that we know what Slamdance is doing, one way or another, I'm just waiting to know if I can recognize Scarab before I post.

Well, look at it this way. Missing in combat with Targette may mean you can't smack her around, but it also means she can't boost her Mental Blast. So it could be worse.

Woo-hoo, nat-20ed on my Stealth. Can't probe what you don't know is there. :D

Now that is a knife. Avenger takes a little while to look the blade over, comparing it to the sort of ritual objects with which he's familiar. With his knowledge of criminology mostly gleaned from CSI and other forensics shows, Avenger opts to pick up the bloody knife and slip it into the gallon-sized Ziploc bag he keeps inside his bulky costume. (When you're built like Stuart Townsend rather than Dolph Lundgren, you have to use a little padding to make yourself look like the sort of huge, muscular avenger of evil that smashes his way through the criminal element.) That way he can compare it to the murder scene downstairs and then either put it back or bring it to the police, depending on what seems like the best course of action. The sudden sick feeling of being watched is like a pit in his stomach, a dreadful blow that is only compounded when the nearby window begins to slide open. Avenger deals with that problem like any good costumed adventurer does with an unwanted interloper...he disappears. He takes shelter behind the furniture, watching as the new arrival enters. "Who's this supposed to be?"

Question: do I get to make a Notice check to realize I'm being observed? Because if so, I did OK!

And I would say stunned works the standard way.

Ouch! Well, Moira is stunned and bruised. It might or might not be a good idea to spend one of those HP to shake off the stunned effect; your call.

Searching Search checks for the 3rd Bedroom to be searched.

Ouch! Poor Scarab! ;)

"Geez, what'd he do, take a bat to his face?" Lieutenant John Barnes peered over the still pictures of Thomas Eagleton Ewing, the serial mugger who'd turned up outside the 9th Precinct in the Fens beaten into unconsciousness. Barnes was a veteran officer, but the wounds were severe. Most vigilantes didn't coddle criminals, but it looked like whoever had taken this one down had broken more than his share of bones on the way to bringing Ewing down. "Nope," said his partner, Sarah Pendleton, shaking her head as she pointed out the shape and pattern of injuries. "Bare hands. Left a pretty good impression on Eagleton's jaw; looks like he wears motorcycle gloves or something athletic." She sighed and lit a cigarette, profoundly glad for the precinct's lax enforcement of the department's anti-smoking policy. "We got a picture this time. Sounds like our cape goes by Avenger." "Hits like a brick and just as crazy, huh?" He looked over the picture snapped by the station's surveillance camera, nodding a little at the gleaming eyes caught in the black and white image. "I've heard of this guy. He turned up in the South Side, Greenbank, and here...he's getting around. Maybe the capes around these parts aren't as territorial as we thought they were. You'd better watch your step, Avenger," he said with a wry look, putting the pictures down. "Stick to fighting skells."

OK, make a Will Save at DC 20.

Targette's eyes widen at the sight of Moira's rage, but a moment later she practically bares her teeth as her eyes flare yellow in a sudden, malignant glow! As she does so, Moira can feel that same glow inside her head, a flash of pure electric pain ripping through her very soul! Nearby, Sidetrack spits, "You take her, chica!" before leaping nimbly off the bar, landing nimbly on an empty table. "Come out come out wherever you are," she taunts the still-hiding Jack, "before I come out there and beat you!" By way of encouragement, she throws her fist into the wall, the glowing glove on her hand punching right through the wood, leaving behind a deep crater. By way of response, Jack appears behind her and grabs for her throat, growling menacingly. He misses by inches, but she's distracted enough to turn from smashing up the place to fight him. Heroic, yes. Smart...not so much, Jack thinks as she smiles triumphantly.

Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were waiting for me. No, your attack roll missed.

These are Sidetrack and Targette, two young supervillians who've tangled with various superheroes over the years. Recently, they got into a big fight with Nightrival over a crack house they helped destroy. They are associated with the occasional kidnapping-for-hire, so seeing them here isn't too surprising. Sidetrack's the teleporter and blaster; Targette specializes in blowing fools' fool heads off. They are a mysterious pair; that's all you get! (Some people say they're lovers, but that's a common rumor about supervillianesses who work in pairs, so who knows?)

For ease of reference, we'll say that happened in the second or two between combats. You're up!

Jack waves at her, a tense expression on his oddly-feral face. "Listen, didn't you hear that one call for backup?" he asks Moira as their armor gives way beneath her feet with a crunching sound. His eyes widen a little as she so easily shatters metal and plastic, but he's a man with secrets of his own. "We need to-" For the second time in the space of a few seconds, events cut him off as two women appear over the bar in a flash of light and noise, sending glasses tumbling to the ground with a tinkling sound. One is a tall African-American woman, covered in a tight blue and brown bodysuit that exposes one muscular thigh and one muscular leg, shining metal gloves on her fists; while another is a short, equally-fit Hispanic woman with the remnants of tattoos visible on her square, silent face. "All right, ladies," says the African-American with a smile as she raises her glowing fists and her friend levels a heavy blaster pistol, "I'd say you should surrender, but I'd rather hurt you. Mi corazon here likes to play fair. What's it gonna be?" Jack is taken aback by their sudden appearance, but does his best to recuperate. With a feral snarl, he disappears again into the darkness.

Have an HP for the setback of not being able to put those guys down. :)

I am pretty much done with this thread, but Lullaby and Hellbound are welcome to go nuts in it. :D

New combat! Roll for initiative, plz. Jack: 22

With a sickening crunch, both men fall like broken dolls as Divine hurls one into the other like a bowling ball and pin, a single gunshot going wide as it ricochets off the ceiling. The last soldier left standing is about to break and run when a dark voice comes hissing from the shadows behind him: "Tell your friends..." Jack emerges from the shadows in a blur of speed, smashing his fist into the back of the man's head with a crack of metal and plastic. The final goon drops without a word, head snapping back as he hits the ground bonelessly. "The party's over!"

It lasts for one round.

The two with handguns are about five feet away from Moira, and about five feet apart from each other. The radio guy is about five feet further back.