Gizmo

Jack sat down on the floor heavily, letting himself fall backward to lay staring up at the ceiling. "Nobody likes a drama queen, Blinky," he scoffed with a grin despite his heavy breathing. He gestured to the floor beside him. "Sit." Placing the hand on his chest, he closed his eyes for a moment. "Whoof, teleporting grapple, huh? Good move." The swordsman moved his hands in the air above him, reenacting the match. "I was all like, 'Ha ha!' and you were all, 'Nuh uh,' then I was all, 'Oh snap!' "

Jack stepped around All-Star without acknowledging the presence of the larger man in the slightest. "I've been thinking about getting some sort of grapple-type deal myself," he continued speaking to Kris. "Something to make street-to-rooftop commute a little easier. Don't really know where you go to get something like that, though." Hands in his pockets, Jack's posture was relaxed and his tone airy. Having let the previous matter drop, he wasn't going to let Marcus bait him into a confrontation so easily. Of course, if being ignored pushed the the big man's buttons even more... well, Jack was alright with that, too.

Jack glanced from All-Star to Kris as the younger man positioned himself between the arguing teammates. Deliberately taking another few passes over his wet clothes with his fiery sword, Jack casually opened his hand and let the flames dissipate into the air. "No worries, Kris," he said with a grateful nod to Nadia as she finished seeing to his scrapes."Some of us are familiar with the concept of self-control." He considered pressing the point, but trying to explain responsible behaviour to Marcus was like smashing one's head into a brick wall repeatedly; it just wasn't likely to get one anywhere. Jack consoled himself with the knowledge that it only took a pound of pressure for a rapier to piece a normal person's flesh, and though All-Star wasn't a normal person, Jack didn't use normal swords, either. "So, you set up a workshop, huh? I was wondering where you got all those wonderful toys," he changed the subject.

Just to double check, the initiative order is: 24 - Jack 18 - Colt 14 - Blink 13 - Grim 11 - Razorwing 10 - All-Star 9 - Demons yeah?

Jack studiously avoided glancing over at the slight display of affection between Lynn and Colt as Nadia looked over what amounted to a few scrapes and bruises. He wasn't sure how obvious the pair wanted to be to the rest of the team, but the swordsman did live across the way from the more outgoing of the team's shapeshifters, and even with the shared bathroom in the way the walls weren't that thick. Considering that his nearest relevant experience was a perhaps overprotective attitude towards his sister concerning any potential suitors, Jack had been giving them as much space as he could without it being overtly awkward. The momentary reflection took the some of the wind out of his sails, but All-Star's flippant attitude put it right back in. Jack made an inarticulate sound of frustration. "Are you the last survivor of the Planet Stupid? Is that your secret origin? My head, man!" He pointed emphatically to the body part in question. "It's not even the bike. Seriously, it was ten bucks at a garage sale, and thanks to all this," he said gesturing to the underground base all around them, "I find myself in the wholly unfamiliar position of actually being able to afford to replace it. The point is that not everybody is a trained acrobat who can sense the residual plasma blast on a chunk of giant robot before it rearranges their face! Most people? The word of the day is 'squished'." As he spoke, Jack flipped his lighter out of his pocket and quickly formed a fiery sword. Using the blade's heat to dry off his clothes, he used his free hand to jab an accusatory finger at the slightly battered powerhouse. "You got so lucky today."

Well, not over the bike, but All-Star did mess up his hair. His hair, man. I kid, I kid.

Yeah, good call. I was hoping things would get sorted out, but there's no point just waiting around. Hurr, trying to remember what I posted the first time...

A series of progressively louder clangs and thumps preceded a fuming Eric as he lugged the mangled remains of a bicycle through the underground base to the garage. With a grunt, he tossed the twisted frame to the floor. Large portions of the tubing had been flattened and the spokes of the front wheel had been snapped in several places. Jack's clothes were dirty and drenched along his right side, and he flicked his wet sleeve in annoyance. The young man let out a sound that was part groan and part scream. "Nrrgh! So, I'm riding downtown, just trying to get some stuff done," he vented exasperatedly, "when some maldito idiot starts throwing chunks of giant robot all over the place. So, first off, y'know, what, right?" He threw his hands into the air and continued his ranting. "But more importantly, who does that? I was like, two city blocks away, and there's scrap falling on my head! I felt like Endor at the end of Jedi." Jack gestured with his thumb and forefinger. "I was this close to getting pancaked. Ended up in a flippin' puddle, and my bike got..." Struggling to find words strong enough, the frustrated swashbuckler settled on another groan. Jack leaned against the garage wall and let out a long breath. He blinked as he realized just how many people were in the room and allowed his disgruntled brain to process as he blew a dripping lock of hair out of his eyes. "Huh, garage party. What happened to you?" he added, glancing at the jubilant All-Star with a raised eyebrow.

Jack opened his hand, letting the sparks dissipate like sand blowing away in the wind as he walked to the switch and flipped the lights back on back on. Leaning against the end of the couch Colt had landed on, the swordsman regarded the 'mild-mannered' All-Star dryly. "Please tell me you didn't steal that from a bunch of kids, Sparky," he drawled. Rolling her eyes, Jill picked up her brother's sombrero from the kitchen counter and casually whipped it across the room at his head. The hat flew unerringly like a discus until Jack, without looking over, snagged it out of the air by its brim and donned it in a single fluid motion. Tipping it rakishly, he grinned at his sister. "Thanks, hermana." Jill folded his arms across her jumpsuit and scoffed. "I swear, if he had to give up food or showing off..." she noted to Lynn, taking a moment to find where Nadia was now standing, just behind her. The younger of the siblings nodded slightly in the direction of the two new arrivals. "So... is that really... I mean..." She bit her lower lip nervously and lowered her voice. "That's actually the actual Dr. Archeville?"

Jack doesn't really have much in the way of stuff, and he'd probably prefer being closer to the rooftop and the street, so I guess he'll claim the last room on the third floor. It's not like he's not used to sharing a bathroom with his sister, anyway.

As Kris tossed the match and filament into the air, Jack flipped backwards, his feet briefly making contact with the edge of the kitchen counter before he launched upward, arms spread outward. As he sailed through the air the sparks around him stopped falling and flew towards his outstretched hands in streaming spirals. The winding trails of sparks grew tighter the closer they got to his palms until the formed thin pillars of light following the extension of his arms. In the darkened room they took on the appearance of swarming fireflies. Body rigid, he twisted in the air to land softly next to the young vigilante. He paused for a moment, a wire of red light balanced over his right hand while another of pure white hovered over his left. With a cocky grin, Jack brought his hands together before him with with a great clap, and the lines of sparks wrapped around each other and flared brighter. When his hands parted, the swashbuckler was holding a dazzling rapier of scintillating light in his right, clearly defined even as its component sparks traveled up and down the blade. Tendrils of glowing energy extended from the pommel around his closed fist, creating an intricate hand guard. Jack flourished the sword with a grand flick of his wrist, tracing patterns in the air. "And that," he smirked, "is how you do that."

Rock on, gettin' the band back together! Jack still needs to get to know most of the team as well. He presumably knows the West End better than the others, so he might be showing them around, in or out of costume.

I'm having the same problem. Also, I could have sworn that the last post for this before everything went kablam was Nadia reintroducing herself after Jack told her to take a seat. Am I imagining things?

Jack's eyebrow quirked, and for a moment his expression was a jumbled mix. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh. Oh man," he managed between chuckles. "This place doesn't have electricity let alone the internet, and I'm still getting Godwin's Law-ed. That's precious." The swashbuckler smirked and folded his arms. "" Jack turned one palm upward casually. "

So, giving Miss Special Forces a hard time was a bad idea, Jack thought dimly. I am totally surprised. This is my surprised face. Actually, he was pretty sure it was his 'that doesn't bend that way' face as the teleporter promptly immobilized him and began placing painful pressure on his elbow. "I know some cultures are more physically affectionate," he managed to grunt through clenched teeth, "but we usually just shake hands after a match.'

"" Jack called up to the restrained Angel in Spanish, gambling that the 'locals' wouldn't be able to understand him. "" The swordsman briefly rubbed his eyes in frustration. "" He turned to Archeville and continued in English under his breath. "That said, how much you wanna bet this Omega's pulling the 'secretly evil royal adviser' shtick?"

"Some people think that's a weakness, but I like to see it as a sign of clarity of mind,"Jack continued breezily, tapping Nadia lightly on the top of the head with his foil as she attempted to recover from her aggressive attack. "Like, the ability to do more than one thing at a time, y'know?" The swashbuckler began to take a step back, as through regrouping in preparation for her next attack, but instead pushed off with the moving foot, lunging forward with a burst of energy and striking once more on the teleporter's shoulder. "And that," he said with a bow and flourish, "would by three." Though slightly flushed from the exertion, Jack was grinning broadly, and Nadia noticed that his body language was in fact more relaxed now than it had been earlier in the hallway.

Alright, so Jack automatically beats that Acrobatic Bluff. He's going to attack first: (1d20+15=20). Next, he'll try another Feint as a move action. (1d20+16=24) Blink get's a +1 bonus to save against it, since he tried that earlier. Finally, he'll use extra effort to grain a second standard action for the round, attacking again: (1d20+15=20)

Jack knocked Nadia's strike away with ease. She wasn't a sword fighter, by any means, but he was forced to admit that she was keeping pace with him far more readily than he expected. The swashbuckler was fast, but Nadia moved as though she had an extra second of reaction time. As he probed her defenses, she continuously responded at the last possible instant, correcting her blocks before he had a chance to exploit her mistakes, learning rapidly. Jack suspected that the teleporter was the superior all-around combatant, and only his greater experience with the weapons at hand gave him any advantage. Adopting a more cautious approach, he sent out a lazy thrust, further testing her reflexes. "Aw, see, it's always time for chit chat! I like to talk; I'm a talker." Any attention he could take away from the fight could make a world of difference, he knew.

Huh, I thought I could reduce Distract to a move action by taking a -5 penalty on the check, just like any other interaction skill check in combat, but now that I double check, maybe not. We could call it a taunt instead, which would just hit her with a -2 to attack, not that it makes a difference. Let's assume her Defense goes to 28, then. Now, I know I can Feint as a move action (1d20+16=17), though not very well, apparently! Nor can he hit her, evidently: Attack roll. (1d20+15=22). Unless you royally fumble your save against his Feint, that is!

"Oh, nuts," Erik groaned as Dead Head hit the ground in a literal heap. He spared his sister a quick glance. "Ellie, maybe you and Romeo need some alone time, huh?" She nodded in understanding, leading her confused date away. Jogging over to the collapsed zombie, Erik narrowly avoid tripping over an undead chicken. "Man, these guys really go all out with the prosthetics," he remarked to a nearby man loudly enough to carry through the pandemonium to those nearby. "Too bad that blood and gore looks so fake. Too many Romero flicks, amirite?" Bending down, he hesitated briefly before gingerly realigning the unconscious ghoul's neck with his shoulders. "I swear, 'Head," he hissed under his breath, "if you force me to make a 'pull yourself together' joke..."

Never split the party! quote has a good point, there's no reason we couldn't tackle these plotlines one at a time as a full group. Jack should probably try to get out more, too. Anybody feel like putting up with him for a while?

When they reached the training room, Jack stripped to the waist and rolled his shoulders. Though less heavily muscled than many athletes, there was not an ounce of excess fat on his frame, giving his lithe form sharp definition. The swashbuckler had long suspected that his metabolism was somehow tied into his energy sustaining powers, but whatever the cause, he mused as her turned to face Nadia, it had sculpted a body perpetually ready for evasion. Which was when the Russian's foil suddenly streaked toward is chest. Jack twisted immediately, and failed to avoid the training sword by the narrowest of margins. Which would be great if we were playing horseshoes, he chided himself. He took a half step back and gave his sparing partner a rueful grin. "Alright, got a little quickness in you, fair enough. So, what's the question?" Before she could answer, Jack sprung forward, sliding along the floor and between her open stance. Launching to his feet behind her, the swordsman swiped with his foil like a crop, catching the teleporter across the backside. As Nadia turned to face him, he briefly offered her an apologetic shrug and a boyish grin. One embarrassment deserved another, he reasoned.

Oh ho! Nicely played. Jack's turn: Distract as a move action. (1d20+16=32) Attack roll. (1d20+15=34) That's technically a critical hit, but who's counting?

She could use Total Defense; that's a standard action that gives +4 dodge to defense. It leaves a move action free, if there's something else she wants to do.