The B-Team IC

[Red_Jenny]

April 23rd, 2016. 11:47 AM
Freedom City, New Jersey, USA, Earth, Sol System, Milky Way, Virgo Supercluster, Dimension GR05-Prime.

Freedom City is quiet, but not calm. Over the past weeks, the great metropolis has been subjected to an ever growing wave of violence, chaos and destruction. The cynical might say that such things were just part of life in a city that attracted supervillains the way rotten fruit attracts flies, but nobody could deny what made this particular crime wave so terrible; There was nobody to stop it.

The Freedom League is gone. What has befallen the missing heroes, nobody has yet been able to determine. It was rare for the League to go into action all together, for fear of just such a situation, but circumstances had been strange, and the looming spectre of what had all the hallmarks of another Terminus invasion had overridden caution. Now the city was paying the price for that misstep.

At the moment, things are muted, but the mood remains tense, like the city is taking a deep breath before the next storm hits.

But anyway, enough doom and gloom! It’s a beautiful day! Birds are shining, sun is singing, Spring is here, and nothing has exploded for almost an hour. What’re you up to?

Spoiler: See? Lovely!

Show

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Here we are! Opening with a quiet moment so everyone can get their feet under them before I yank them back out.

[Nintendogeek01]

Saturday is a day for mall-rats and teenagers at the Bayview Mall, a day where stores are never without foot-traffic going in or out, and a day where it would be prime-time for someone to get it into their heads that they can get away with something. But not while she's on watch.

Marching purposefully through the mall floor dressed in the standard mall-cop uniform, her green eyes looking side-to-side ever alert for any signs of trouble, her hair mostly tucked neatly under the uniform's cap save for a ponytail sticking out through the hole in the back of the cap above the cap's adjuster. The ponytail betrays her violet hair-color. At first her boss gave her grief about the hair-color until "medical papers" convinced him it was her natural hair-color due to some insignificant mutation, and senior security staff gave her grief about it for a while, whether legitimately or just as friendly ribbing. But they don't bother "Tia Kim" anymore.

Once the crime wave really began to escalate Tia began to prove herself at Bayview Mall, catching a number of shoplifters or more daring thieves either by running the perps down, or when they simply tripped or had a "serendipitous" accident with a nearby display, for someone her age and fairly fresh she managed to accumulate an impressive record thanks to this crime wave. All's well and good then, this is her duty and she will fulfill it.

"Presently at Food Court, moving to upper-level," she says into the walkie-talkie attached to her uniform. The others still give her grief for treating this like some military post, sometimes jokingly asking her if she was raised in the army or something like that. Truth is, they are not far off.

Tia'kim, for that is her real name, gets on the escalator and her mind wanders to places not on Earth, back to her home in the stars in the distant worlds of the Lor Republic, the greatest intergalactic civilization in the cosmos! Tia'Kim is a mentat, what the people of Earth would call psychic, and not just any mentat but the most powerful one in generations. Tia'kim was raised by the Lor military, trained from a young age in how to use her powers in service of the Republic, and taught discipline. That was all well and good until Senator Ackundar learned about her. Tia'kim bristled at the thought, she knows the senator meant well but her fear of a child raised in the military was misplaced, after all they had the right idea, use your powers responsibly, protect the people and home you care about.

Still, being sent away wasn't all bad. Admittedly Claremont Academy and Headmaster Summers taught her things that the Lor Military never did, and she had to admit that it was foolish of her to always be dependent on orders, it made her a liability after all. Tia'kim gripped the escalator rail as her thoughts slipped to post-graduation, her previously perfect posture was faltering as Tia'kim's breathing grew heavier.

Her failure weighed heavy, her failure to save that family, to save her first real friend Cindy, she didn't even stop the pair of Power Corps members responsible! The thing that really confused her is why her superiors left her here on Earth!? Why couldn't they at least bring her back home? Was there some reason they couldn't let her at least come home?

"Leave... please?"

Tia'kim snapped out of her trance on hearing that voice. That was Zoey's voice. Looking over the edge of the escalator Tia'kim could see her, Zoey was an underclassman at Claremont Academy, one of the few other friends she made besides Cindy. Zoey was currently being harassed by some teenager with baggy clothes and shaggy hair, trying and failing to woo her while taking a sip out of his drink through a straw. And Zoey clearly wasn't enjoying the attention.

Tia'kim sighed and resumed her perfect posture at the top of the escalator before continuing her march around the balcony overlooking the food court. Fine, she may not understand why her superiors would leave her on this planet, but they'll come around eventually, and until then she has a duty to fulfill here. Yes Headmaster Summers suggested spending time talking with some friends of his, but what was she going to tell them? She's an alien stuck on Earth? Of course not. Tia'kim can't afford distractions from her duty, not even poor Zoey down there, she had to learn to shake off unwanted attention at some point after all.

Thus Tia'kim continues her dutiful patrol above the food court and Zoey must suffer more pick-up lines.

PSSHHT!!!

"Gatufubuh!" Suddenly the jerk trying to pick her up has his soda spray all over his face leaving him to drop the scrunched cup as though he'd squeezed it too hard, earning a few starts from onlookers and a few laughs from others. Zoey looks around a bit and sees Tia'kim on the balcony above before Zoey smiles and mouths a silent "thank you," to Tia'kim, who marches along pretending nothing happened, all while the left half of her lips curls up into a smirk.

[ChronicLunacy]

Jack Nixon/The Stranger

It might look a little strange to see a guy walking the streets of Freedom City wearing an old-style gray suit, a full-length trench coat, and a fedora in the middle of spring, but Jack's biology wasn't really accustomed to the light of the clear, midday sun. Furthermore, unlike your typical internet crusading fedora-enthusiast, he made it look good; like he'd just stepped out of a Humphrey Bogart flick. Jack was a walking anachronism; clean cut but with an ever-present, five-o'clock shadow and intelligent, brown eyes; right down to the hand-rolled cigarette hanging lazily between his lips. He would have been right at home in a black and white detective film from the forties, so much so that some people got a bit of a laugh out of it or assumed he was in costume. In a way, Jack supposed that's exactly what he was. You didn't hide the monster he was with a mask or colorful tights.

Strangely enough a part of him, the human part, really enjoyed soaking up the sun. It made that other part that he didn't like thinking about coil up and hiss in discomfort, and he got a little kick out of that. The two of them had developed a sort of working relationship over the years, but it had made it clear that if he ever showed it weakness he'd be swallowed whole. Jack was forever on guard against that thing taking over and getting out. In fact, it was the only thing in this wide world he was really afraid of, he thought with a small chuckle as he took the cigarette from his mouth and ashed it into a sewer grate on the side of the street. Besides, if he really needed to find it, darkness could be found in any of the next sewers, alleys, and ghettos around in the bad part of town.

He wouldn't normally have even left his office/apartment at this ungodly time of day, but sometimes he needed to keep respectable hours for his clients. True to his appearance, the glass window on Jack's door said "Jack Dixon, Private Investigator", and he needed to follow up on a lead if he was going to get paid sometime that week. Today, he was inquiring to the whereabouts of a missing person that had last been seen frequenting the local crack houses. He might have chalked up this one to being too far gone, but little Frederick Krascinski's sister was worried about him. Freddy had been on the straight-and-narrow for five whole years, and had been a proud member of the Addicts Anonymous clubhouse. He'd even been running meetings lately before disappearing off the map. So it hadn't been like him to just fall so far and hard off of the wagon, she'd insisted. Jack didn't think he'd find anything besides bad news, but she could afford his daily rate and his last few cases lately had ended in nothing but tragedy, so he was hoping for a rare mark in the win column.

He just wouldn't be holding his breath.

Something about this damned city had just gone straight to hell ever since the big, flashy heroes had up and bit the bullet on them. Damned inconsiderate is what it was, and Jack didn't see it getting any better anytime soon.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Dawn was "on patrol".

That's what Shelly called it, anyway. The premise was that by going out in costume, people would be able to see that there was a new hero in town. It would start building up "Euphoric's" reputation if people saw her out and about. And also something about inspiring people and making them feel safer. She might have been paying more attention to designing her costume. Point was, it was essentially a superhero's equivalent to networking. Dawn could get that.

What she didn't quite get was the mask. Euphoric's fame would be of little help if no one knew who she was. But Shelly had insisted that she initially maintain a secret identity. They'll figure out it's you eventually, and when they do, it'll be a way bigger headline. If you just give it to them, it's an ad; if you make them work for it a bit, it's news, had been Shelly's argument. It seemed rather convoluted to her, but she trusted Shelly's advice.

That being said, she wasn't going to make it too hard. Euphoric's costume was...somewhat in a state of flux. The logo, at least, was set - a flower with rainbow-colored petals. Dawn would have preferred something a little more badass, but Euphoric was meant to be every bit as bright and shiny as her powers suggested, so the rainbow-colored flower it was. It could have been worse. Shelly's initial "bright yellow smiley face" idea had been vetoed hard.

The current costume was a white sleeveless leotard with a pink skirt and cape, and a white domino mask over her eyes. It did little to hide her features, but she used her rainbows to brighter her hair to a more golden blond and change her eyes from hazel to a particularly vivid green. Generally speaking, when using her Blooming Stride, she left behind a trail of white lilies. While in costume, she had switched to pink lilacs.

All in all, she looked pretty much like herself at a costume party with a bit of a palette swap. And powers-wise, well, not many people knew about her "weaponized" Happy Thoughts, but plenty of people knew about her basic psychic powers. Binding sunshine into a blade rather than radiating it over an area, or causing flowers to bloom with a punch rather than a step, or transforming an enemy into a talking squirrel rather than calling one from thin air, should all be easy connections to make for anyone who was capable of adding two and two. She felt confident that Euphoric's "secret identity" would be public in short order.

...'Course, it would help if she had actually done something worthy of a superheroic reputation by then.

Dawn was moving swiftly, but not too fast, and staying at ground level, going at the speed that Shelly had calculated would allow people to see her as more than just a white-and-pink blur, but still allow her to cover a good amount of territory. She took the opportunity to "do good" where she found it. This consisted primarily of stopping to help a woman who had dropped a bunch of files walking out of a building, and getting a ball out of the street for some kids. She performed both tasks with a smile and cheerful enthusiasm, even while in her head she was trying to calculate just how sad it was that she had yet to graduate to helping old ladies across the street and getting kittens out of trees.

[SuperCracker]

Tim McAllister

Ironically, one of the safest places in Freedom City had for decades been viewed as one of the most dangerous. Even though the Freedom League was gone, this part of town still had its own hero. It had Tim McAllister – The Invincible Aegis. Fortunately, today didn’t present any hero work (. . . yet). His phone hadn’t rang with any emergencies, so Tim was hanging out with his friends from the block. Tim, Jojo, T-Dog, and Ramon were kneeling down by the wall of an apartment building playing a game of dice and betting small amounts.

Tim McAllister was tall at 6’3 (though Jojo was a few inches taller) and wore a strong build. He was wearing a sleeveless Atlanta Falcons jersey and a pair of faded, worn out jeans. With his arms exposed, one could see the colorful inkwork that covered every inch. A variety of different pieces were part of the sleeves, taking disparate designs and weaving them into a whole. In short, he was inked up. Tim had brown hair that was cut very short on the sides and back in a fade, with medium length hair up top that fell loose. He had warm, soulful brown eyes and a big, charming smile.

He also had really sh** luck with the dice today. He shook the cup in his hands, rolling the dice around. “Alright, come on, mo-f***er, don’t f*** me this time,” he spoke with a generous helping of Southern drawl mixed in with the dialect of the local neighborhood.

“Them powers don’t work on dice, son,” T-Dog said, laughing, “Stop shakin’ ‘em and roll!”

Tim shot a friendly glare at him then turned the cup over onto the ground. He held his hand onto it for a moment. “Come on…” He quickly removed the cup, as if pulling off a magic trick. Instead, it was snake eyes. “God dammit.”

The other guys erupted in laughter, and Tim did too.

Ramon took his turn to roll and the guys shot the sh** with each other. Everyone gave each other a hard time. It was a good day with friends he’s known for years. The sun was shining, nothing was going down in the hood. No explosions to be had.

It was going to be a quiet day, right?

Spoiler: Tat Example

Show

[HopeHubris]

Argent

Arrol had ostensibly decided to rejoin the realm of heroes weeks ago, but all of his old serum's had probably long since passed their use-by-date.
It'd taken that long just to convince Irene to help him whip up another batch of the Elixir, Arrol didn't quite have as much access to chemical supplies and equipment as in the old days, but with Iron's help, once she finally relented, he'd had a lab set up in his apartment, albeit a rather sparse one.

"That should do it" he mutters to himself, as he loads a just completed batch of Argent Elixir into a Silver Syringe, before adding it to a small collection he'd prepared earlier.
Should last me a little while, or at least until I can figure out a way to make work better, might try getting in touch with Tim again
As he muses on that, he thinks back to how many times he'd already tried to get in contact with Tim many times over the years, but there'd been nary a word from him since he left the team. Arrol sometimes wondered if he was still alive, or if the military had decided to experiment on him rather than use his experiments.
Bastard might even have solved the degradation problem by now, with military funding he may even have reverted it


Shaking his head, he packs a couple of syringes into his belt, Enough about Tim, who do I know that's still active, it'd been a while, maybe that PI fellow, seen him a few times over the years, last time as actually pretty recent, wasn't it? Couple of years ago, hadn't aged a day. Definitely be some help with finding things, think it was Dixon, or Nixon, something like that.

After confirming the name with the help of a handy search engine, he tracked down the address of his office, also with the help of the very same handy search engine, and was out the door, patting his belt under his jacket to make sure he had definitely grabbed his syringes.

[Thokk_Smash]

"Mmmm, right there."

"Here?"

"No, lower."

"How about here."

"Aaah, right there, that's it!"

"Oh, yeah, you're so tight."

"Don't keep me waiting, lover-boy."

"Okay, just breathe out and..."

POP!

"Oooh, that felt so good!" Brienne says from her place lying facedown on their bed. Justin sighs with resigned patience as he continues to pop and massage her back.

"If we had neighbors, I'd say you'd wake them up," he says, and Brienne can hear the smirk in his voice.

"When has that ever stopped you?" she shoots back as she enjoys the feel of her husband's hands relieving her back of its knots of tension. It's been a rough few weeks: ever since the Freedom League vanished, crime's been on the uptick. Justin and Brienne have always had a "let it come to them" sort of approach to crime-fighting--if they see it, they stop it, but otherwise they've got too many other things to do. Like dance for charities and file to other countries to promote their families' companies.

But with the League's disappearance, they've run into more and more criminals just begging to be literally danced circles around. It started with thugs getting bolder, but it quickly escalated. They'd never run into a big-name criminal before, really, until some guy in a battle suit with really long legs. He was shouting some megalomaniacal something or other while trying to smash Justin and Brienne into paste. So they just quickstepped circles around him, literally laughing as he tried to catch them ineffectually. Crossing between his legs, he smashed the ground at his long legged feet. And, well, when your legs are literally thirty feet up, your center of gravity means that you're in for a long and painful fall.

They'd gotten slightly more famous that day (in the grand scheme of things, at least--I mean, adding 100 to 100,000 isn't much difference, y'know?). Even more importantly, they realized just how desperate the citizenry of Freedom City were for the protection they once enjoyed. Having a group of superhuman (and extraterrestrial, in some cases) heroes at hand makes one miss them when they're gone, it would seem. The people needed hope, and smiles--and Justin and Brienne could give them the latter, and maybe even the former!

So for the first time, the Dancing Divas made their street debut. They've been quite busy: between press interviews, doing their rounds of the city, and continuing to practice, they've barely had time to themselves! (Of course, they make sure to make time for themselves, if you know what I mean)

They've also been making calls, calling in favors...doing whatever they can to locate a lead on the League. Brienne has been purposefully keeping herself upbeat and positive, but Justin doesn't need their spiritual bond to tell she's practically sick with worry. So he's been doing his best to keep her relaxed--well, besides the massages and chiropracty, at least. That's something they do for each other anyway.

"Feeling better?" he asks as he moves from his position straddling her back, and he doesn't bother to hide his worry from his voice. Brienne turns around and gives him a soft smile.

"As always, when I'm with you," she says, enjoying the brush of pink that comes to Justin's cheeks. It's a testament to their bond, romantic and soul, that she can still make him blush so easily. Kissing him on the lips, she gets to her feet.

"Now come on, slowpoke. I didn't spend three days planning this to be late to our own show!"

"I don't think they'll start without us, Bri," he says with a laugh. "We are the main event, after all."

-----------------------

In the Freedom City park, a large stage has been set up. An area a block wide has been reserved for this event, with the surrounding buildings having been rented out to provide raised seating. Word spread of the Dancing Divas hosting a live show for any who want to attend, and people have come from all around the city to watch.

There is security, of course. Burly men with earwigs litter the crowd, yet that is only the security that one can see. There are secrets hidden away for any who would dare to threaten the innocents here to enjoy the show.

The audience is murmuring amongst themselves, wondering where the main attractions are. Have they gotten scared? Was this all just a cruel joke? And then the speakers begin to play soft music, and someone points at the sky in excitement.

Resplendent in a fine navy-blue suit and a gorgeous turquoise-blue dress, Brienne and Justin can be seen waltzing to the stage--while flying through the air. Their dance shoes have repulser rockets in them, acting as literal "platform shoes" in the air. Graceful as if they were simply descending some stairs, they make their way to the stage.

With a final flourish, they touch down. Justin pulls her close, then sends her into a fast spin as he begins tapping his feet and swinging his hips in place. Brienne spins, and spins, and her dress begins to morph into one that is far more slinky, with a small skirt made of fringes that shake and rattle enticingly. They join back together seamlessly, as two halves becoming a whole. They spin together around the stage in long, sweeping steps to each corner of the floor.

Eventually they come to the center stage and begin to spin together once more. Tightly, fast, tightly, fast, until they are just a blur. Without warning they break apart and extend until they are connected only by their hands--then as quickly they are together again, with Justin having pulled Brienne into a dip so low they are practically parallel to the ground. Brienne is reaching her hand out to the audience as they go wild, and the music reaches its crescendo.

Thank you, Freedom City! they call out to the crowd, wireless mics blaring through the speakers.

"Now, I know that these past few weeks have been frightening," Justin begins as Brienne dances in place.

Justin begins to dance as well as Brienne continues for him, "But we're here to tell you that you don't need to be scared! The Freedom League's just taking a little break is all. In the meantime, we all have to do our part to keep this city safe--and you all have been doing wonderfully!

They dance separately as Justin finishes, "There's a ton of littler heroes around the world, less famous--but no less powerful! So let's show any baddies out there who want to mess with Freedom City--"

"We will not let them win!"

Spoiler

Show

Routining the Expertise (Dance) for a total of 29

[Red_Jenny]

Aegis
Tim's cell phone rings a few minutes later. Tom Jackson was the apartment's resident handyman, retired mechanic who could fix anything with an engine and most that didn't. "Hey there, hero! Got somethin' you might want to take a look at, if you get a minute. There's a few fellas up on top of Parkside Heights. Can seem 'em from our place, don't know what they're up to, though. Stealing copper, maybe. No emergency, but best someone deal with 'em before they get it in their heads to come over and tear up our roof."

"A-geis! Couple vans worth of, ****, I don't know, they ain't a gang. Look like plainclothes cops, but they ain't cops either, not the way they're acting. All jumpy. Feds, maybe? 11th and Fremont, near the old high-rises. Can't be good in this town. Take care, big guy. Don't get dead."

Rose-Merline Toussaint's smirking lilt got his attention. Lincoln had a sizable Haitian enclave, one looked after, until very recently, by Siren of the Freedom League. Calling Tim was a fallback relatively few of them had ever needed, and one she had only because she was a member of Crossbones, a "Voodoo hip hop collective" who were on the edge of breaking out from "popular neighborhood act" to "big citywide hit."

"Sa'k pase, Tim? Got a couple of bad men poking around. Soldiers, but the uniform's all wrong. Old-fashioned, World War One maybe? Don't know. I'd say they were costumes, but not the way they're acting. Sending you a picture. They've got, ah, siveye, someone tailing them, too. Looks like he stepped out of an old detective movie. I'm heading indoors, I know how you work, things break. A pi ta, ami! You're not dead, we've got a show on Friday. Boardwalk stage, 7:00 'till we feel like we're done. Come on by!"

Euphoric

The Freedom City Radio Tower was a towering thing on the edge of the business district. Taller than most skyscrapers, it was built in the '50s, designed by city leaders to provide radio coverage for the whole city from one location, cheaply and reliably.

It was immediately taken over by supervillains.

These days, when someone hasn't mounted a death ray on top, it's mostly for TV broadcasts and tourists, providing beautiful panoramic views of the city. As Dawn passes by, it's easy to see something's up. The whole tower's been cordoned off with yellow caution tape, but there's no police or fire department presence that Euphoric can see. The relatively few people moving about inside the are wearing normal civilian clothes, but don't seem to be acting the part. They seem jittery, like they're standing guard, and those moving around seem to mostly be doing busy work. Dawn can see tiny figures moving around up on the observation decks, but what they're doing is impossible to tell from ground level.

Judging from the TV crew reporting from the far side of the street, the tower is still operating normally, for now.

"It is unclear who the men are, or what their goal is. One simply told us the cordon was part of preparations for 'an event', but refused to elaborate further. The mayor's office has confirmed that there are no events scheduled at the tower today. We have yet to see any sign of law enforcement, prompting some onlookers to speculate the whole thing may be some manner of elaborate prank. We will continue to provide updates as the situation develops. I'm Amy Feng, Channel 5 News."

One might call it luck, but it's not clear what flavor it might be.

Argent

As Arrol makes his way toward the office of one Jack Dixon, PI, his ruminations are rather rudely interrupted, as a white van veers past with no care for law or safety, jumping the curb and missing Argent by scant inches.

The reason for the mad driving quickly becomes clear to the veteran crimefighter, as the van shudders to a halt only a few blocks away, in front of the Kingston Savings and Loan. The wise folk of Freedom City realize the situation at the same pace. Those who can clear out quickly. The half-dozen robbers who come boiling out the back of the van are dressed strangely, to say the least. Soldiers' uniforms a century out of date, gaudy and heavily ornamented, carrying equally odd weapons, brassy, overbuilt rifles. Even back then, they only would've worn and carried such things on the parade ground, yet here they are, trying to rob a bank.

Life in Freedom never fails to surprise.

Mindcrash

Tia'kim had completed half a lap around the upper level when her walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Hey, Tia? You there?" Comes the voice of Rob Valencia.

A gentle, genial, absent-minded stoner kid putting himself through college, Rob was a good guy, but completely unsuited to his job, lacking even the tiny amount of discipline needed to be a mall-cop. It was unclear how he had managed to avoid getting fired or failing a drug test. Having proved incapable of doing anything else successfully, the boss stuck him on parking duty, figuring that even Rob could handle driving in endless circles around the mall.

"I, uh, I got a thing." he continues, as if that were self-explanatory. Rob had decided that Kia was far better at all this security stuff than he was, and elected to defer to her judgement. More often than not, that meant he ended up reporting incidents to her instead of the boss, because "you always know what to do, man!".

"There's a big work van out near the south entrance, and uh, I got a look inside, and there's a bunch of guys all bunched up, and a bank of high-tech lookin' stuff, and I'm pretty sure I saw a gun. They look like heist movie thieves, y'know? Can you call 911? I-I think this might be actu-" The radio suddenly goes dead with a squack of static.

The Stranger

It was a sad thing, but there was no shortage of "leads" in Southside. The neighborhood was mostly working class, mostly black, with healthy populations of other minorities, including several immigrant enclaves. The majority of Southside was bright, vibrant, friendly, but it had been hit hard by Freedom City's downturn in the 1980's, and had honestly never really recovered. Crime spread from the abandoned parts of the neighborhood like open sores, and each sore had at least one crack den. Some, like Frederick Krascinski, managed to get clean. Most addicts never got the chance.

Jack is on Fremont street, one of the "borders" of Little Haiti, and thus, a safe place to go looking for leads without the risk of too much trouble, when he spots them emerging from a crumbling, abandoned apartment. A trio dressed in outfits that would have been mothballed or reservist fodder when he was in the army, Prussian Blue getups cut in the style of German or French Great War uniforms.

They're patrolling, that much is clear to an old GI, though not doing it particularly well, lacking both numbers and knowledge of the area. The Stranger catches a few snippets of conversation, including the phrase "vile degeneracy," which narrows it down to henchmen or time-travelers.

The Dancing Divas

The show is a rapturous success. The crowd, eager to forget their worries for a little while, are wildly enthusiastic, if a little less genteel than the audiences Justin and Brienne usually compete in front of. When they take their final bow, it takes seconds for the crowd to start chanting for an encore. At the end of the encore, they do it again.

As the pair finally step off the stage for good, following their second encore, Justin and Brienne are faced with a rather unusual scene. A man, red-faced and sputtering, wearing a rather rumpled suit, and ranting in the face of Mr. D'alessandro, the security chief, while a pair of his plainclothes "surprises" watch over a pair of very dazed intruders, trussed up with zipties and wearing the same half-hearted, thrift store attempts to look "official."

"Big D", who came on special recommendation from several celebrity friends and a murmured "Ah, he finally went straight" from Grandpa Vincenzo, was roughly the size of a mountain, but not as emotional. He looked down at the red-faced man with the sort of gentle, patronizing expression and slowly dwindling patience one would reserve for a four year old "doing karate" on your leg.

"It is imperative that we be allowed to address this crowd! This immoral display has done nothing but distract the masses of this decaying city! There is only one way to restore order, you must let us pass!"

"Authorized. Personnel. Only. I don't care if you work for the Queen of the Moon, pal. Oh! Sir, madam. That was wonderful, if you don't mind my saying. The waltz was my favorite. My aunt taught me, you know? Watching you made me a little homesick. Don't mind all this, just a little clean-up after the show. You get all kinds in this city. Some of them have issues following the rules." He seemed to have completely forgotten the angry man until he tried to run away, at which point a massive paw reached out and engulfed his whole head. "No."

"These fellows tried to force their way backstage. They were armed. No trouble, though. We were ready. I didn't think it enough of a bother to call the police, but perhaps you feel differently? You are the closest superheroes, after all. You would know best." He allows himself the smallest of smiles.

[SuperCracker]

Tim

Tim was going back and forth with Jojo about the Falcons vs. the Freedom City Minutemen when they all heard the familiar sound of Tim’s ringtone. He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket and answered the succession of calls.

“What’s good, Mr. Jackson?”

People stealing copper. Tim wasn’t especially in the law and order column, but when people steal copper from buildings, they’re wrecking people’s homes; and sometimes that’s all they really have. No good. No way. Not in Lincoln.

“I got it, keep an eye on ‘em.”

He was standing up to get ready to leave when the second call came in. Nate Carlson, who ran the Hot Chicken joint on 11th. Undercover cops wouldn’t ride that deep and that noticeable. With how crazy things have been as of late, Tim had some darker suspicions about these guys. Two places he needed to be at once.

“Aiite. Got some stuff goin’ on at Parkside, but I’m gone try and hit everythin’. See if ya’ll can keep the streets clean. Hollar if somethin’ changes.”

Almost immediately he got the third call. Madame Toussaint’s voice was one he was growing more familiar with since Siren vanished. People decked out as soldiers seemed to be the most overt threat; but Tim now had three places to be at the same time… so he had to prioritize… and unless he was gravely mistaken, The Stranger was at work there already.

“Why all ya’ll think I’m gone die? Sh**, not dyin’s kinda my thing. Hold tight, my boy The Stranger is that detective guy, I bet. I got a couple other things happenin’. Gimme…” he thought about how long it would take for him to deal with a couple of vans of guys and some folks on a rooftop, then travel time to get over there. Easily a tremendous task for anyone, right? He ballparked it… “Maybe like five minutes. See you Friday, girl.”

He hung up and looked at his friends, who were all looking at him. They knew what the phone calls meant. Tim could do things none of them could dream of; and he put himself out there for the community to call for help.

He grinned at them and pulled out a tattered red headband, tying it around his head. “Ya’ll ***holes get to keep my money. It’s time for me to go to work.”

T-Dog nodded. “Yeah… go on, get yo country ass outta here… Good luck, man.”

With that, Aegis turned and ran a few steps before using his legs to launch himself into the air like a man with a rocket, headed (first) towards 11th and Fremont to deal with whatever was going down there first.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Dawn considered the situation. There were cameras here. That made this important. Last thing she wanted was for Euphoric's media debut to be a display of her beating up some kids for no good reason. 'Course, the Freedom City Radio Tower had a storied enough history that nefarious intent seemed probable just going by statistics.

What she needed here was more information.

Dawn squeezed her eyes shut.

They were at the park for a picnic. It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining, a brisk wind was blowing. Keira was helping Mom smooth out the blanket. Dad was taking food and plates and stuff out of the basket. She and Alex were tossing a frisbee back and forth while Zoey jumped around between them trying to catch it...

The recollection brought a gentle smile to Dawn's face. It always did.

When she opened her eyes, they were shining as brightly as the sun in her memory. She swept the tower again.

Spoiler

Show

Using Invoke Sunshine, although she's not activating the Environment function. Her vision is now Extended, which should hopefully help give her a better view of what's going on at the upper levels. Routine Perception for 26 (or 22 for non-visual details).

[Nintendogeek01]

Mindcrash

Tia'kim had completed half a lap around the upper level when her walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Hey, Tia? You there?" Comes the voice of Rob Valencia.

"I read you Valencia," came Tia'kim's rather typical dead serious response over the walkie-talkie. Rob Valencia, she had to wonder how such an undisciplined man came to be responsible for the security of any property, much less this mall. Terrans were so strange.

"I, uh, I got a thing." he continues, as if that were self-explanatory.

"Specifics Valencia, can you clarify?" Tia'kim replied sternly as though chiding him. "Now report."

"There's a big work van out near the south entrance, and uh..."

Tia'kim sighed with frustration and redirected her march towards the Southern exit to the parking lot. If this turns out to be a van parked in a no-parking zone even Rob should know to just tell them to move. Seriously... sure Rob wouldn't hurt a fly but the man is completely useless, something needs to be done.

"...I got a look inside, and there's a bunch of guys all bunched up, and a bank of high-tech lookin' stuff, and I'm pretty sure I saw a gun.

Tia'kim immediately banished any thoughts of Rob's incompetence to replace them with legitimate concern as she hastened her march towards the Southern Exit.

"They look like heist movie thieves, y'know? Can you call 911? I-I think this might be actu-" The radio suddenly goes dead with a squack of static.

"Valencia? Valencia come in! Do you read me? Respond!" Tia'kim had now gone to a full run towards the Southern Exit. Tia'kim leaned into her talkie and telekinetically altered the dial to reach her superior, "Sir! This is security guard Kim! Do you read?" after a brief pause to get a response she reports in, "Security guard Valencia reported armed trespassers! En route to confirm, please advise!" she finishes reporting as she reaches the southern exit.

Spoiler: Perception

Show

Not that I expect any sterling revelations from this but I may as well: perception: (1d20+14)[22]

Also just in case - actively defending...

[Thokk_Smash]

With their third final bows taken, Brienne and Justin take their leave of the stage. "You were so great!" Brienne screamed, literally hanging off of Justin as they walk backstage. Justin just smiles and kisses her.

"You were even better," he says with a soft passion. If there's one thing he can say he dislikes about the love of his life, it's her tendency towards self-deprecation. He feels she never gives herself nearly enough credit--perhaps exacerbated by the guilt she felt for her "role" in his accident.

Nonetheless, their little moment is interrupted by the shouted rantings of Big D's impromptu visitor. Justin immediately goes to see the commotion, with Brienne hanging almost sloth-like from his back.

"Glad to hear you liked it, Mr D'alessandro, he says with a beaming smile. Brienne echoes the sentiment, holding out her hand for a high-five. When she's tired, Brienne tends to lose the rigidity with which she holds herself.

The two focus their attention on the man, listening in silence. Through their soul connection, they empathically confer: madmen are a dime a dozen in Freedom City, some thing; but if there is any inkling of a way to help the city, they feel a duty to try to figure it out.

So Justin sets Brienne down, and together they approach the man in Big D's clutches. "These are trying times, it's true," Justin begins. "And we want the city to survive them, the same as you."

"But you must admit, trying to force your way through with weapons doesn't really engender trust," Brienne continues, sounding firm yet accepting. "Tell us why we should trust you--what is the cause of the city's "decay"? Believe us, we want to keep this city safe as well: help us help the city."

Spoiler

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Persuasion, +5 if Attractive applies: (1d20+19)[31]

[ChronicLunacy]

Jack Nixon/The Stranger

Well now, these boys looked like trouble...or they were headed to one of those newfangled costume television conventions, but this close to New Haiti Jack doubted it. They were dressed like Jerries...old Jerries to be sure, but he'd bet dollars to deutsche marks they weren't out doing any church fundraising. If they weren't time travelers, and that was certainly a possibility, that meant henchmen. Only your typical supervillain's goons dressed that strangely in Freedom City.

Well, old Freddy was going to have to stay alive for a few more hours. It seemed to Jack that this was going to take precedence for awhile.

Jack hiked up the collar of his trench coat, lowering his hat against the sun, and quietly approached the group. He still stuck out like a sore thumb, but he had a few unique advantages. He didn't have to get too close in order to read their minds. He found a suitable corner and leaned against a brick wall, focusing his willpower on the one that had spoken last. Inside his chest he felt a coiling sensation as he drew upon the power of the thing inside of him. His consciousness reached out like a shadow and touched the man's brain, seeping into it like oil on cracked, wooden floorboards.

Now, why are you here?

Spoiler: Mechanics

Show

Stealth: (1d20+10)[29]
Mind-Reading 9 vs. Subject's Will: (1d20+9)[20]

[HopeHubris]

Argent

Really... Why'd it have to be a bank robbery, and I mean, really, a bank robbery? I know the big'uns are gone, but you're still probably not going to have much fun with a robbery, especially with gear like that, the bloody cops could probably stop you
But despite this, and sighing heavily, Arrol reaches under his coat and grabs one of his Silver Syringes
Might as well get on with it, I was going to get back into heroing anyway

He ducks into an alley as the transformation begins to take place, not for fear of having his identity exposed, for that secret had been revealed a while ago, assuming anyone still remembered, but because the process was violent and painful, with molten metal starting to bubble outward from the injection point, becoming one with his body as it expands. It's been so long that it takes all of his effort not to scream out, "****, almost forgot how much that hurt". After what felt like an age, but was much closer to 3 seconds, it was done.

Argent stretches his metallic form, getting used to how it moves again, then takes off into a run towards the robbers, sploshing down into a pool of liquid metal as he does so, "Just like riding a bike, a very puddle-y bike".

As he nears them he shouts out his old catchphrase, "Surrender now, or I'll serve you to the police on a Silver platter"
It's corny as anything, but he's starting to have some fun remembering the old days, but then he starts thinking of another bank robbery that opened with some catchphrases, and he's deadly serious once again.

Spoiler

Show

Standard action: Inject self
Move action, puddle rush towards crime

[Red_Jenny]

Aegis

11th and Fremont was busy and big, at least by Lincoln or Southside standards. Fremont was the main artery for the two neighborhoods, and 11th had, back in the 60's, been the site of an ambitious, crackpot "grand rebuilding", as they called it, leaving a row of five high-rises sticking out (literally) like a sore thumb in the middle of shops and far smaller, more modest apartments.

As Tim comes crashing down in the parking lot of Nate's Hot Chicken place, it's easy to spot the trouble. Two vans that might as well have "Flowers By Irene" painted on the side, out in front of Southside Plaza, one of the taller buildings, about a block and a half down the street. They're dressed in the "these are my street clothes, fellow citizen" fashion of lazy undercover cops, but Nate's call looks right, they're not police, or any gang that has territory in FC. The feds? Maybe, but you'd think they'd run a tighter ship. You can spot these guys from space, and it's not clear if they're really undercover in the normal sense, as they've got something of a perimeter set up, a couple guys standing by the vans, and another pair, a little further out, doing nervous circles and glaring at everyone who walks by. Most folks are giving them a wide berth at any rate.

A man, clearly ex-military, if the neck tat and build is anything to go by, sturdy, but going grey at the temples, with a black coat on that's only that bulky when you're wearing body armor under it, pops open the back doors of one of the vans and lights up a cigarette. He's not alone. There's a dozen of these guys, if the other van has similar passengers. Aegis spots the telltale muzzle of an assault rifle in a rack in the back, though it's a weird one, short and fat and shined up for the parade ground.

He walks out to one of the nervous "sentries", which puts him in earshot. "Ten minutes. Don't worry, they're on their way. Full speed ahead. Take it easy, you look like something's gonna eat you. We're the good guys here. People will see that soon enough. We've trained for this." He gives the new arrival in the headband a long, hard look, but elects to track back to the van, which he loudly taps twice.

Euphoric

As Dawn's sunlit eyes sweep over the tower, she picks up on details that escape those on the ground. In addition to the four milling around on the ground, there are five of the mystery intruders at various levels up top. The bottom two are feverishly moving around, doing... something with the various recievers and electronics. All of Freedom City's broadcast stations and a number of smaller channels use the tower as their main broadcast point. If you've got the knowhow, it's possible to override or link them all. More than one villain who liked the sound of their own voice had done such a thing. Of course, it's also the place you'd go if you wanted to send out a pirate signal and weren't afraid of being arrested, like, if, say, the cops were stretched to the breaking point because of some sort of mass superhero disappearance.

What was easily missed from the ground is the long pair of cables the middle pair have attached to the taller of the observation decks. It's unclear what they're for. They don't seem to be for climbers or bungee jumping or any other sort of extreme stunt that Dawn has seen before, but that doesn't completely rule such a thing out.

Even easier to miss is the person at the top - quite literally. There's a lone figure clinging, or tethered, even Dawn can't tell from here, far, far higher up, about as high as it's possible for a person to be on the tower and have it support their weight.

Mindcrash

"Mmm? Tia? W-what're you on about?" The boss, judging from his voice, was napping in his office when she reported in.

"Wait, did you say armed- Oh God. Right right right, there was training... uhh, OK. Confirm that's it's not just Rob seeing the cleaning crew or something, but don't put yourself at risk. I'm going to call 911, OK? OK. Uh, OK, don't do anything stupid! Wait for the cops!"

With that incredibly helpful tactical advice in mind, Tia'kim arrives at the South entrance. Sure enough, there's a big work van idling in the no parking zone next to the curb. There's no way to see inside without actually opening up a door. Rob's patrol truck is half-parked in a staff spot relatively close by. The door's been left open, which doesn't actually indicate foul play, given Rob's usual attention to detail.

What does is the yelling and thumping coming from inside the van.

What do you do?

Argent

A pair of older customers seem to recognize Argent. "Ha, lookie there! I thought they were all long gone!" In true Freedom City fashion, they seem more interested in the battle than worried about the danger.

Two of the goons take one look at the silver figure sloshing toward them and beat feet inside the bank, to the ringing of alarms and shouts from the patrons.

The remaining three don't surrender, but rather inconsiderately open fire instead. Only one has any sense of knowing what she's doing, dropping to one knee and coolly firing off a burst at the advancing hero, while the others spray wildly and miss Argent entirely. "Stop and aim, you idiots!"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

And Argent gets to kick off the combat! Three of our would-be robbers take shots at Arrol. Two miss outright. The third hits with a deree of multiattack succcess. Argent needs to make a DC22 toughness save. I have a private dice thread set up for my secret things, but from now on I'll roll open combat stuff like this in the OOC.

The Stranger

Spoiler: Jack's Eyes Only

Show

Well, not necessarily, but this is a big ol' infodump. If you'd rather not know, stay out.

Spoiler: Mind Reading

Show

As he seeps unnoticed into the man's mind, Jack, or perhaps the thing inside him, is provided with an answer, a slow stream of thoughts and memories. This man, and presumably, those with him, is a mercenary. In his particular case, a South African who fought in the bush wars. He is bitter, resentful, beginning to bend and fray at the edges. The world no longer operates by the rules and values he was raised to respect. His current employer understands that. Despite the strange trappings, he likes this work. It is important. The Sky Lord - such a high and mighty thing to call yourself, but it is deserved - feels the same weariness, disgust for a world that is becoming increasingly vapid and immoral, filled only with soulless corporate money-grubbing and empty degenerate distraction.

Now fate has taken away the Freedom League, the last bulwark, flawed and arrogant, but trying, at least, to do the right thing. It is not tragedy, it is opportunity, Sky Lord announces. You will go and prepare Freedom City for our arrival, for the new order. The City is too wretched to accept us as is, it must be readied. Dens of vice identified, the people spoken to, brought around. More practical concerns as well. Communications, landing sites. Such things will have to be taken before the main force arrives. What remains of the "heroes", the military, law enforcement, those who will resist most violently, must be divided, distracted so that they can be dealt with piecemeal.

Stranger sees this small squad taken aside, given their task. An easy one, this mind judges. "Show the flag." Patrol, sweep the worst areas of the city, deal with the criminal element, show we are not to be feared. Make it so the people know us. This is vital. We will be seen as invaders, there will be death. We must make our goals known before the main force arrives. Sow chaos so we can build something better on the foundation.

Judging from his orders, there must be many more such cells in the city.

The thing strains for a moment, hungry, sensing weakness, wishing to feast on all of this misguided anger. It would break and devour such a mind in an instant.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Goon fails by one degree, but being a minion, you get the whole package.

The Dancing Divas

After a moment's consideration, Big D shifts his grip to the man's shoulder, so he can respond to Justin and Brienne with more than a muffled yelp. Strangely, he seems less than grateful. "All of society is decaying. 'Freedom' City is just the place where the symptoms are worst, and so it is where we go first." He scoffs. "There is nothing you can do, just as this empty entertainment is nothing. If you truly meant well, then you would allow us to speak, so that these people are ready to see the new order established and the values that matter return! You have minutes anyway, it hardly matters! If the city can't be prepared, it will be razed and rebuilt into something greater!"

He flails and tries to break free, finally throwing a punch at Big D, which ends with him in a chokehold and a surprised "-grk!" before he can register what a colossally bed decision he just made.

"That's enough of that. Put him with the others, boys. Sir, Ma'm, I'm very sorry for all of this. I think it might be wise to disperse the crowd. I think half of them are expecting another encore. Best to be safe."

[Quellian-dyrae]

Dawn grimaced as she spotted the person at the top of the tower. She wasn't entirely sure what the people inside were doing, although she was working on the assumption that it probably wasn't good, but the person at the top took priority.

She could almost smell the bouquet of lilacs she called to mind as she strode into the air, a trail of pink flowers falling gently to the ground below her as she raced to the top of the radio tower in seconds, approaching the person who was hanging or tethered there. "Hey, are you alright?" she asked. If it didn't appear patently obvious that the person was up there of its own volition, she'd add, "What are you doing up here?"

Spoiler

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Back to Blooming Stride, and up we go.

Routine Persuasion for 22. 27 if Attractive applies.

[ChronicLunacy]

Jack Nixon/The Stranger

Jack recoiled a bit in disgust. Being inside that goon's head was like being forced to watch a Nazi propaganda video. It seemed his first instinct was correct, and not only did they dress like stormtroopers it seemed that that was exactly what they were here for. Honestly, Jack could have skipped the mind reading entirely, but a little extra information into their motives was helpful. He had their boss's name and the first steps of some kind of invasion plan. Now he needed to know the rest of it, and he was going to have fun getting it out of them.

The Stranger peeled off of the wall and lit another cigarette with an old-fashioned, engraved, metal lighter. He approached them directly, his trench coat swishing about his legs as he swaggered across the street. "'Scuse me, boys, I'm from the Neighborhood Watch. Might I be able to direct you to the nearest bus stop or subway so you can be on your way? You all look a tad lost." he said, narrowing his eyes at them as he filled the intervening space with cigarette smoke.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Show

Taking the Defense Standard Action for this "turn" in case one of them decides he doesn't want to talk.

[Nintendogeek01]

"Mmm? Tia? W-what're you on about?" The boss, judging from his voice, was napping in his office when she reported in.

... Tia'kim really missed the military.

"Wait, did you say armed- Oh God. Right right right, there was training... uhh, OK. Confirm that's it's not just Rob seeing the cleaning crew or something, but don't put yourself at risk. I'm going to call 911, OK? OK. Uh, OK, don't do anything stupid! Wait for the cops!"

"Yes sir!" she responded. Okay first order of business was to confirm, and then make sure that Valencia was alright.

Rob's patrol truck is half-parked in a staff spot relatively close by. The door's been left open, which doesn't actually indicate foul play, given Rob's usual attention to detail.

What does is the yelling and thumping coming from inside the van.

Oh that noise is NOT a good sign. Okay... Tia Kim was ordered not to do anything reckless, so if Tia Kim can't intervene there was another person who could. Tia'kim bolted for the nearest security blind spot she knew of, somewhere out of public eye.

Once she was there the buttons of her uniform shirt undid themselves, her shoes untied as she floated out of them, her uniform's trousers unbuckled and unzipped themselves, and her equipment floated neatly off to the side as if dangling from invisible hangers. As her uniform slipped itself off of her it revealed a form-fitting bodysuit of two slightly differing shades of magenta, from a bag hidden beneath her uniform shirt a pair of white forearm bracers, a pair of white boots, and a white belt with a few pouches on it all drifted around Tia'kim before sliding into their appropriate places on her costume. Tia'kim's uniform cap was taken off while the hair-tie holding her ponytail undoes itself just as the mask attached to the torso slid itself up her face before a pair of magenta shades flew from the bag and slid themselves over her eyes.

Where Tia'kim once stood now Mindcrash was floating. The baton, restraints, and flashlight from her security guard equipment all flew out of their usual pouches and instead moved to the matching white pouches on her costume's belt while a phone hidden in the bag flies out and also tucks itself into a different pouch on the belt. As Mindcrash looks towards her exit her security guard uniform folds itself neatly before stuffing itself into the bag followed by the bag itself flying up into a hidden nook that usually only maintenance workers go to. With that done Mindcrash flies out!

Soon enough Mindcrash was out in the parking lot with a soft violet glow around her person, earning a few stares, some curious, some excited, and some judging; it seemed some still remembered, but that didn't matter right now. Mindcrash floated about ten feet away from the van where all the noise had been coming from, leered at the lock on the back door of the van and used her telekinesis to try, and fail, to unlock the door. "What's going on in there!?" she demands as the door jostles from her telekinesis!

Spoiler: Actions

Show

It's an immobile van right? If so I'm reasonably certain I can routine a defensive attack and accurate attack (+2 defensive, +5 on accurate) to hit it for a routine result of 20, and then I will use my myriad of modifiers on telekinetic lift to pick the lock so technology roll! (1d20+5)[7]

Mindcrash's defenses are at +2 for now.

[SuperCracker]

Aegis: the Invincible

Even though he wasn’t wearing much of anything in the way of a superhero getup, it was clear from body language – and falling out of the sky – that he was ready to throw down. Aegis didn’t bother hiding his presence as he landed. He stood in Nate’s parking lot for a moment, watching these guys and the pedestrians passing them by. He didn’t like the look of these guys, especially with the one wearing such obvious body armor and mean-mugging people passing by as they went about their business. What pushed this from maybe a simple ‘who are you guys, gtfo’ meeting into what was about to happen was the assault rifle he could see… and he was guessing that It wasn’t the only one.

Without turning away from these guys, Aegis extended his right arm out to the side and gave whoever was watching from Nate’s windows a thumbs up.

He waited until no one was standing by or walking past the men and the vans… and then he pounced.

No literally, he pounced.

Aegis landed on top of the van with the open back door. He leaned down, looming large over the smoking thug below. “Ya know what, he lied to ya’ll about all that sh**… Well, he did get one thing right.”

Aegis grinned wildly, “I’m ‘bout to eat all ya’ll.”

He jumped down to the ground and grabbed each van by its frame as good as he could, then he began to lift up into the air. Oh, right. He can fly, by the way. Once he was a good twenty feet in the air, Aegis took those vans and promptly slammed them together like cymbals – hard enough to send these guys to the hospital, but he purposefully held back from trying to outright crush them to death.

Spoiler

Show

Move action to leap. Standard action to grab the vans. Free action to switch to Flight. Move-by action to continue moving and fly up. If I need to extra effort and surge to slam them, I totally do that.

[HopeHubris]

Argent

It may not be as strong as it once was, but the Elixir was definitely still holding up, which was something that was being very desperately questioned as the one somewhat competent robber's bullets plinked off his silver skin.

"Or just stop, it will be better for you" Argent calls out, grabbing a manhole cover as he resumes his puddle rush, a single long arm extending from the liquid metal pool, arcing about in a cross between a discuss throw, and a cracking whip.

Spoiler

Show

Status: Normal

Move: Keep on moving as a puddle
Standard: Throw manhole at the competent seeming one (1d20+12)[26]

[Thokk_Smash]

The Divas give Big D a smile of understanding, although they appear notably distracted. "Yes, please. Start sending them home, and quickly as you can," Justin says while Brienne simply frowns in thought. Their minds are a whirlwind of thought and consternation from the madman's words. Some might pay them no mind and dismiss them as nothing. But this is Freedom City, and when anyone starts raving about how there are minutes until the city may be razed to the ground, you f*cking take note.

Okay, time to think of the times every other super villain has tried to take over, or attack, or terrorize, or otherwise do super villainy to Freedom City. What did those other times have in common? Their second priority (after taking over the city in its entirety, naturally) was always to take over the Radio Tower. Either to spread the news of the City's demise, or proclaim their megalomaniacal desires, or just to satiate the desire to hear their own voice, they always went for the poor radio waves of the city.

"I need to make some calls," Brienne mutters, pulling out her cellphone. Her first call is to the Vincenzo chief of security, to send whoever they can to the Freedom City Radio Tower to check things out.

"Yeah...I think I will, too," Justin replies, mouth turned down in a pensive frown. He touches his suit idly. The tech archwizard that had made it for them had spent almost an hour explaining how it works. Most of it had gone over Justin's head, but he does remember: it is made of nanites that react to their thoughts. It's how they can change its appearance on a whim--the minuscule machines are keyed into their minds in order to work to their best.

And another thought comes to him: their mentor, the healer that had saved his life, has explained their intertwined soul in depth. The soul is connected to the mind is connected to the body in a way that is incomparably inseparable. And so, it follows, he thinks at least: what the mind thinks, the soul does as well. The soul knows, one could say. So perhaps he can repurpose these nano-machines for something else...

He places his palm on his shirt, and the nano-machines whir to life. They lose their solid toughness, and eventually lose the form of clothing they had taken. Underneath he has an undershirt and boxers, naturally, as the nano-machines take on a skin-like color and encircle his head. Responding excellently to his mental commands, the nano-machines reconfigure themselves into what he wants: to spread their soul out to every person they know to inform them of this development.

Spoiler: To NPCs and Euphoric (And hopefully The Stranger, if it applies)

Show

~"Hello, friends and acquaintances lucky enough to get this message. It's Justin Lowe of the Dancing Divas coming to you with an important message. Be on guard for any suspicious activity in your area. Someone tried to bust into our show, ranting about how the country's morals are decaying and how the city will be razed to the ground in minutes. Any heroes who are at home should get ready for trouble, and any on patrol should keep their eyes open. I'll keep this channel up for as long as I can, so keep me informed."~

Spoiler

Show

Brienne will use Connected to get help with the radio tower and raise the alarm the old-fashioned way: (1d20+19)[30]
Justin will Power Stunt off of the nano-machines that make up his "Stylish and Functional" Protection: A Soul Connection: Mental Communication 2 (Area, Selective, Feature 1 (Covers the size of Freedom City [less than a state but more than a mile]), Quirk 2 (Only people the Divas have come into personal contact with, Justin must make a DC 20 Will save vs Damage for every minute this power stays active)), Increased Action (Move to maintain each round).
Free action: Broadcast mentally to everyone Justin and Brienne know who would be useful to know that sh*t's about to go down.

[Red_Jenny]

Euphoric

The figure at the tip top turns out to be a young woman, a few years older than Dawn, if that. Sharp-featured, almost harsh, with freckly, weathered skin, and what looks for all the world to be an actual dueling scar on her cheek. Unlike those running around below, she's wearing some sort of uniform, highly decorative and old-fashioned, deep blue, with brass buttons, epaulets, and a gold rank cord looped around her shoulder. She's attached to the tower by a harness she doesn't trust in the least, if her deathgrip on the metal is any indication.

Spoiler: Our Intrepid Climber

Show

Her head snaps around with a surprised snarl, which fades as she evaluates Euphoric. The effort put into her costume pays dividends, as the climber doesn't seem to take Dawn as a threat, but the quite the opposite. Trustworthy, even?

"Regretting volunteering for this, mostly." She mutters, giggling a little in disbelief as she looks down at the falling lilacs and comes to grips with seeing someone fly via flowers.

"Preparing for Sky Lord's grand entrance, if you want a real answer."

The name rings the vaguest of bells for Euphoric. A supervillain with an airborne, military bent, with some sort of old-school tech gimmick and a "back to the good old days" ethos.

"I'm the grappler. Sky Fortress, she's too big to moor anywhere but the radio tower. Won't fasten on right to any of the skyscrapers. It's not just that. A grand entrance needs a grand speech. Need everyone to understand. The corporate media, they say such awful things about the Sky Lord. Like he's a-a supervillain, like he's Omega or part of the Crime League or something. Gotta give him a way to tell the truth. Them down there, the techs? They're making sure everyone in the city will see it!"

The woman smiles. "Won't be long now. I hope. Getting a little queasy, to be honest. You should stay. You can fly, you'll have the best seat in the house! You look like one of the heroes who's still out trying to do the right thing. You must feel it. Without the Freedom League, things will only get worse. Only the Sky Lord has the resources to restore order. We're going to put things right. Not just the violence, but all of it! Get society back to what's important. Hard work, respect, duty. World's corrupt, but if we can get Freedom City set right, we can do it anywhere."

Spoiler: OOC

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Three degrees of success shifts the woman all the way up to Favorable.

Also rolled untrained Expertise for Dawn, since she seems like the kind who would at least half-way keep up with current events, given her background. Not a great result, but she at least knows the name.

The Stranger

Jack gets the sense that his appearance was what got him a sneer instead of a rifle butt in the teeth. He looked respectable, at least. "See fellas, this is why we're here. Even those who ought to know better have forgotten how to speak to their betters."

"No, friend, we're not lost. Neighborhood Watch, eh? Well then, we're doing your job. Looking after the place, yeah? We're soldiers of Sky Lord. He's a great man, you know. This whole place is collapsing from the bottom. Don't even have the Freedom League now, for what they were worth. A nest of crime and depravity, but he still sees fit to try and save it, to send us to try and stop the rot. Don't worry, we're just the first. You'll see soon enough."

It's a speech that would probably be a lot more charming or convincing coming from someone who wasn't a glowering, arrogant thug.

"Now move along, and stay out of our way. Next time it won't be a warning, you get me?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Actually rolled the Intimidate attempt, just for grins. He got a nat 1. I leave it to you to decide what three degrees of failure on a try to bully Jack looks like.

Argent

With a squawk of alarm and agony and the sound of a half-dozen snapping ribs, "the competent one" gets bent over double and flung bodily backwards as the manhole cover takes her off her feet. The impact smashes her directly back into the wall, where she lies mercifully limp.

Wide-eyed and slackjawed, one of the pair remaining outside immediately takes Arrol's hint and drops his gun, lying facedown on the pavement. "Coward!" His companion is made of sterner, if not smarter stuff, taking aim once more and emptying his pistol in Argent's direction.

There's a great deal of shouting from inside, but Arrol can't see what's going on from his current position.

Spoiler: OOC

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The competent one fails by five, but as a minion, is incapacitated. She also gets knocked back, but there's a wall six feet away, so, you know, ow.

The dumb robber misses clean.

Mindcrash

The driver comes rushing around the side at the sound of Mindcrash's yell and the rattling door. "What is- Cape!" He shouts as before trying to tackle her to the ground. Tia is able to sidestep the clumsy attack entirely.

The back doors swing open, which means the telekinesis kind of worked if you look at it from a certain direction. There are four of the men inside, trying to hold down Valencia, who looks battered but in one piece, and has a rag stuck in his mouth.

He was right, though, the men do look like heist movie thieves, all dark clothes and tacti-cool gear. The only thing missing is the ski-masks. "Already!? Take her alive if you can, orders are for hosta- ooguh!" Rob's boot flails out and connects with the speaker's jaw, sending him tumbling out of the van in an undignified heap.

Two of the others follow in less embarrassing ways, while one continues wrestling with Rob, trying to restrain him with a pair of handcuffs. Those who chose to engage Kia'tim pull tasers from their belts, apparently taking the "alive" order to heart, at least for now. One is right on target, sending a powerful jolt of electricity into Mindcrash!

Spoiler: OOC

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Commmbaaat!

The driver goes for a grab, but misses outright. The one who got a boot to the head takes no action this round. The remaining two try identical attacks with tasers. One misses, one hits. Mindcrash needs to make a DC15 Fort save vs Dazed/Stunned/Incapacitated.

The Dancing Divas

Security sets about directing the crowd to the exits, while our heroes set about alerting the city in various ways.

The Vincenzo family's security chief is initially reluctant to send people out on the secondhand word of a madman. Even if the warning was genuine, his first instinct was to keep his people close to home, to look after his charges and keep the family safe. After what seems like an age but is barely a minute, he caves and agrees to send some people out to the tower to "play cop."

The nanites, as versatile as they are, were not meant for this sort of thing, and Justin's ad-hoc broadcast on soulnet is draining and awkward, but does seem to work. It's not long before he starts getting responses.

"Justin? Since when are you psychic? This is Rocky, by the way. I don't know how this mind stuff works. I'm at the Atlantis casino, on the river. Everything looks OK here. You sure you didn't just get a crazy? And hey, I'm sorry I missed the show, you could've given us busy types a little more warning." Rocky Jones was a mutant, an eight foot tall monster of a man who looked (and felt) like he was made of slate stone. Sure, he could juggle city buses, but he didn't actually meet the Divas through hero work - they just had the same agent. Rocky was in the same boat the dancers were, an entertainer who dabbled in being a superhero. An ex-child star (Freakin' Out, a sitcom about a lovable mutant kid who got adopted by a rich family, had run far longer than it had any right to, given the actual quality of the show), Rocky was also really, really big in Japan.

"I read you. I mean, uh, what is this? What's going on?" Jack Cooper brushed up against the Lowes in two different circles; he was a jetsetting multi-multi millionaire, having sold his dotcom company for more money than God and "retired" at 26, and he was a martial artist (a hobby, he insisted, nothing more) who had trained with the Divas, learning capoeira and a little of the various ways the pair used dance to outmaneuver and outwit their foes.

He was also the costumed vigilante known as the Rook, a fact that just about anyone anywhere close to his inner circle had figured out for themselves, though he persisted with the "secret" identity. "I'm on my- Um, I mean I know someone who can help. I'll tell him to keep watch in the business district."

Spoiler: OOC

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Brienne's Persuasion check for Connected passes.

Stranger, Euphoric, feel free to respond to getting a soul-message yourselves. Thokk, feel free to add a couple more NPC heroes, useful authority types, etc. yourself. The worst I can do is end up not using them. Rocky and The Rook are full PL10 expys for The Thing and Batman, so try and aim for lower-tier, OK? The whole idea here is that you cant just call up the heavies anymore.

Aegis

"Knew you were trouble." The smoking thug sneers as he rolls away, narrowly avoiding getting scooped up into the van. The rest of the mooks lack his experience and backbone, stumbling away from Tim in various states of panic. The enormous crash of breaking glass and smashed metal as Aegis plays the cymbals sets off car alarms for six blocks and sends the bystanders who had been gawking at Aegis screaming and running for cover.

"Shoot the sonofabitch! We don't have time to be dealing with capes!"

The screamed command snaps the remaining men out of their daze. Unsurprisingly, they're all packing some form of concealed heat, the thug in body armor even pulling out a full folded-up assault rifle from under his big coat. Tim makes for a pretty obvious target, but only a few bullets find any purchase against his super-tough skin.

There's no response from inside the vans, probably because all of those unfortunate enough to be inside are crumpled heaps of broken bones and brain damage.

Spoiler: OOC

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The goons in the vans all fail their saves. As minions, they're out. Congrats on taking out seven guys in one move.

The remaining mooks open fire. Four of them hit. Normally Tim would be impervious to basic unaided pistol and rifle fire, but one got a multiattack bonus, so you need to make a DC22 toughness save. Rule hiccup. Tim's fine, no roll.

[Nintendogeek01]

Mindcrash
Hero Points: 1 >> 0 >> 1
Condition: Normal

So there IS foul play involved here! Mindcrash thought this to herself as she floated to the side just out of reach of the man who tried to grab her, barely paying him mind. What kept her attention though were the remaining men holding Valencia hostage! Mindcrash had to admit to herself that Valencia delivered a pretty impressive boot to the head there, but in spite of it he was still being held and he was still in danger! Mindcrash drifted to the side of one taser, "Whoever you are release your hostage or I wi-AUGH!" unfortunately the other man with a taser made contact.

BZAP

Mindcrash felt a painful charge of electricity surge through her muscles and joints, she stopped floating and had to catch her weight on her legs as her muscles seized up; she was about to fall over but she grit her teeth and managed to force herself to stay on her feet. Mindcrash leered at the man who'd hit her with the taser, "Alright," she directed her telekinetic power at him! "Then I will use force!"

Spoiler: Actions

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Standard Action: Time to test these minions... using the "may routine attack" minions rule to defensive attack for 2, routine result of 15 on the minion who hit me with the taser.

Result of Standard Action: If attack check hits, target must make a DC21 dodge or strength check to escape being grabbed. As this is a minion failure by any degree will result in the minion being immobile, defenseless, and impaired as per failing grabbed to max results. Mindcrash's dodge and parry are at +2 their usual rating.

Move Action: Nothing this time, but a question, would you allow Intimidate checks as move actions at a -5 penalty?

Lastly... I would like to go ahead and buy a hero point for a complication to come up. I would also like to wince in anticipation of whatever horrible fate awaits me for this.

[SuperCracker]

Aegis

“With a capital T, b*tch!” A hail of gunfire opened up on the Trailer Park Titan, who appeared to be completely unaffected by the storm of lead and death enveloping him. It was actually the main reason he’d flown up into the air, so that when they did inevitably shoot at him, there wouldn’t be firing into stores or apartment buildings. But the longer they were able to shoot, the more likely it would be that something bad would happen. Got to take these jabronis out real quick. Besides, he had two other callers waiting for a response!

He floated down to the ground and tossed the wrecked vans to the side casually, both scraping along the pavement for a few feet.

“You don’t bring guns into Lincoln. You don’t shoot guns in Lincoln. You don’t f*** with Lincoln!” Aegis stepped forward and rushed the apparent leader of these guys, slinging a punch at his gut and going for a grab at the same time. He continued through, possibly carrying the man, and used his superhuman body as a battering ram, charging into and through every single one of the remaining goons at high speed.

Spoiler

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Pain train! Main target is the leader. All-Out Attack for 4 and routine attack for a 20 to hit, DC 27 toughness and DC 22 strength vs. grab; Then the other mooks make a DC 19 dodge then DC 24/19 toughness.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Dawn had a couple of decisions to make here.

The first was how to respond to Justin. She did have to put at least some effort into maintaining her secret identity so the eventual discovery would be appropriately dramatic. So just telling him what was going on at the radio tower was kinda out of the question. Flip side...she was new at this. Much though she'd like the prestige of thwarting something like this herself, it wouldn't hurt to have a safety net, just in case.

~Heya Justin,~ she sent back, well used to telepathy thanks to her mom's powers. ~So, what can I do to help? Should I send out some birds to look around, or something? Oh, hey, you know what? I think I did see something going down at the radio tower earlier. That might be worth checking out, maybe?~

Which left the question of what to do about her buddy here.

She didn't know much about Skylord, but she knew enough to know he was bad news. It's usually a safe bet when they start putting "lord" in their name that they're probably not on the "best interests of society" list. Still...if she attacked now, it would come at the expense of getting more information. Hmm...

"Well, that's very brave of you, miss!" she said with a somewhat puffed-up, pompous tone, trying to play up the Big Cheesy Superhero routine. "But this seems awfully dangerous, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt! Here, let me help. I can conjure you up a protective forcefield that will hold you up a lot better than that harness you've got! Ha ha ha!"

As an experienced actress, Dawn could deliver even the cheesiest, most cringe-inducing lines with enthusiasm and sincerity. But she made herself a personal promise that when she was over, she was going to put some dedicated effort into developing Euphoric's personality and speech patterns. Because that was painful.

"So, what's this big announcement supposed to be, anyway?"

Spoiler

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Routine Deception for 25. 30 if Attractive applies.

If she agrees, Dawn will conjure a Force Bubble around her. For her own safety, of course. The Linked Damage will target her harness, basically the bubble cutting it away from the tower as it closes around her.

[ChronicLunacy]

Jack Nixon/The Stranger

Awwww...the widdle guy thought he was a big, scary man...that was adorable.

It was almost enough that Jack didn't want to scare the bajeezus out of him. Almost. "Son," Jack said, "the last time I got into a fight with jackbooted thugs like you, the whole world got in on the action. See, I had a problem with a guy with a stupid mustache tellin' other people what was best and killing anyone he thought wasn't good enough. So when I find three copycat, knockoff, cheap@$$ Nazi-wannabes strolling around my neighborhood acting like they got a pair, it just pisses me off." he frowned and dropped his cigarette, putting it out under the sole of his shoe. "But since you saw fit to give me a warning and since you three are just so cute in your little uniforms, I'm going to give you one chance to walk...or run...away before I get real nasty. Capiche?"

As he spoke to the lead stormtrooper, the shadows under The Stranger's hat started to deepen. A sick, red glow started deep within his pupils an spread until it encompassed all of his eyes. It was a little disconcerting, but the head-honcho saw something that the others didn't. As Jack spoke calmly, tentacles started to grow out of the collar of his starched shirt. More pairs of red eyes started to open up along his lapels. A yawning mouth full of needle-sharp teeth split open his neck, along with a matching one just under the brim of his hat that began to whisper things that made the thug's brain itch and scream. Reality started to gray out and the smell of brackish seawater and sulfur filled his nostrils. He started to see through the cracks of reality into something greater, darker, something not meant for human eyes to see. His mind rebelled, desperately trying to rationalize as memories from his childhood started to rot.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Perception Range Affliction 9 (Fear; Resisted and overcome by Will DC19; Dazed, Stunned; Limited Degree [-1/rank], Sight-Dependent [-1/rank])

Meanwhile, The Stranger felt an odd, but familiar presence in his own mind. Compartmentalized as his brain was, he answered cheerfully while he continued to flay the stormtrooper's mind like a psychopathic child with an electric turkey carver. Ah, hello, Justin. Met a few of them myself over in Little Haiti. Looks like there might be a tad more than I expected. Maybe a coordinated response is in order, eh? he mentally replied.

[HopeHubris]

Argent

Argent doesn't slow as the villain misses again

"There is a difference between cowardice, and being sensible, and what you are doing is certainly not the latter" he quips as his hand turns into a metallic boxing glove and attempts to sock the 'non-cowardly' fellow

Kids these days, don't know when to give up

Spoiler

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Condition: Still totally fine
Move: Finish approaching
Standard: Punch person in face (1d20+10)[27] DC23

[Thokk_Smash]

Brienne nods even though the security chief can't see her. "If this is nothing, I'll treat you to that pastry place you love," she says with gratitude. She then pulls out a second phone, unlabeled and unmarked. Dialing, the burner phone reaches out to their tech guru, Laurel Williams: teenage runaway-turned-technopath who now lives in a little computer-riddled hidey-hole somewhere. Bri and Justin found her one time fiddling around with a Staples computer that started shooting sparks. If anyone could hack into, or keep someone from hacking into, the Freedom City Radio Tower (and isn't part of the League), it'd be her.

Meanwhile, Justin fights off a growing migraine as he fields the others' questions. ~"There's always a calm before the storm, Rocky. Just keep your eyes peeled and give 'em a good show in the meantime. And hey, inspiration waits for no one."~

~"Tell your friend there might be trouble brewing, and across the whole city no less. Sure would be nice to have a trusty cowl in the streets to keep watch for a bit."~ He couldn't resist a little nudge at his true identity, but he says it with only the lighthearted jesting of a friend.

To Dawn, he says, ~"That's great, thanks a bunch! I'll let a few others know to check it out, and Bri's got some security going that way to check it out too. Stay safe, okay, kiddo?"~

The Stranger gets a similarly cheerful feeling from Justin's mental feedback, and an echoed response from Bri as well. ~"Hey, Stranger! Get any info from them, o Master PI? Seems like there might be some trouble at the Radio Tower, too, so I feel like this might be city-wide. I'll keep you up to date if I get any info, but if you need backup just shout."~

With a "whoosh" of displaced air, another body comes between the married couple. A small young man, at the cusp of adulthood, stands grinning between them. "Heya, guys!" Paul "Paulie" Lucrecio says, throwing his arms around them and giving each a kiss on the cheek. The kid's a junior at the local high school, not Claremont--his parents can't afford the bills, and his speed-powers manifested too late in life to really justify it. But then he'd heard about the Divas, and how they became heroes without even having superpowers. How cool is that! So he ran into their mansion to meet them.

After the initial shock and the first lecture about "responsibility" and "proper usage of your powers" (air quotes per Paulie, not the Divas), they set about getting him set up to train his powers. He's even got a super-suit--blue and silver, like the sky and clouds! "I took a quick look around the city, guys. You were right, lots of weirdoes runnin' around! Funky suits and everything! Whaddya need doin'?"

Brienne looks up with distraction at the sudden entrance. "Uh, yeah," she says, obviously coming up with a way to put the eager kid to good use--without getting him into too much danger. "Just stay here for a few seconds, let us figure something out." Paulie nods, eager grin undimmed. It's easy to tell he's chomping at the bit, excited to help in any way. Much as the Divas can appreciate his enthusiasm, he's untrained and reckless as all hell--baaaaaad combination.

A few other voices chime in--Isabel Milano, a politician who promises to call in some favors if things go sideways; Bruno Payne, an old paranoid who the Divas are sure was an assassin at some point, gives a curt acknowledgement, but otherwise stays silent; and Niles Tully, the head of the City Watch, says he'll start getting some old war buddies together just in case.

[Red_Jenny]

Euphoric

"Well, aren't you sunshine and rainbows." The woman chuckles as she weighs the offer and takes a quick and instantly regretted look down before fervently nodding at Euphoric. "Oh, yes please. I don't trust this thing one bit."

"I'm Anna, Anna Voss. Um, Second Lieutenant Anna Voss, I s'pose. Can I at least know who's keeping me company up here?"

"The announcement? I mean, I'm not high enough up the ladder to see Sky Lord's speech notes, but I know what we were told. It's probably pretty close to what he's going to tell the city. The Freedom League, they sure weren't perfect, but they tried to do the right thing, at least. But now they're gone, and look how fast things went to hell! Well, I mean, I probably don't have to tell you."

"Someone needs to do something drastic, and we can! We have the numbers to stop the small crimes, and the tech to stop the big ones. Our commanders said it would be like martial law, at least at first. After a while, they said the city would start to look after itself again. I-I hope people understand. I mean, they said it was for the best, but it's probably going to be pretty frightening if we can't explain what's going on. That's why we're so important." She points down at the scurrying techs. There's a modicum of... Worry? Second thoughts? In her voice that wasn't there before.

Spoiler: OOC

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Lt. Voss buys the Deception.

The Stranger

One of the troopers takes one look at the Stranger's eyes, decides that enough's enough, and skitters off down the street like his ass is on fire.

The leader is not so lucky. His mouth opens and closes, eyes wide in horror, but no words come out. He tries to flee, but finds himself rooted to the spot, his body refusing to respond to the dimming signals from his mind. As his mind begins to buckle, he eventually falls to his knees and begins to whimper. "The hell did you do to him!?" The remaining goon tries to break the Stranger's nose with his rifle butt, but Jack is able to sidestep the rather telegraphed attack.

Spoiler: OOC

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The leader fails, and as a minion, takes the worst, so he's stunned. The minion's minion who takes a swing at the Stranger misses.

Aegis

*Thoomchh*

There's a noise somewhere between a sonic boom and someone hitting a side of beef with a tire iron as Aegis connects with the man in the coat, who crumples like a cheap suit in Tim's hands. Most of his companions fare little better, swatted aside like bowling pins.

Tim doesn't roll a perfect strike, though. One goon is still standing, having managed to dive behind the remains of one of the vans as Aegis roared past. He takes one look at Tim holding the boss's limp body and takes off running down the street at a dead sprint.

Spoiler: OOC

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The boss literally can't make that save. He's out. Of the remaining four, one makes both dodge and toughness, the rest are KO'd.

Mindcrash

The unlucky man is crushed in waves of telekinetic force before he's even aware of what is happening, held fast and completely at her mercy, he can only wriggle helplessly.

The driver skids to a stop and rushes back for another flying tackle, only to miss Tia completely once more.

"Don't move!" The one who missed with his taser reaches for his belt and unholsters a much more serious weapon, a hefty-looking pistol, which he waves at Kia with rather shaky hands, clearly a bit out of his depth this up close and personal with a powerful super.

The man who got booted out of the van picks himself up with a groan. He pulls a small canister from his belt and sneers "Let's see how much fight you've got with your eyes burned out!" He tries to get close and unload the whole can of pepper spray into Mindcrash's face. A quick turn saves her from the worst, causing the man to stumble and waste most of the dose spraying straight down, but the impact knocks free her sunglasses, sending them skittering several feet across the sidewalk!

In the van, Valencia and the robber continue to struggle. Rob gets tossed into the side of the van, but catches the goon with an elbow, leaving him sitting up with a view of the fight outside - just as Mindcrash loses the most important part of the uniform that keeps Tia'kim's identity secret.

"Mmph!?" The groggy sound of confusion and... recognition? would probably make a lot more sense without an oily rag stuffed in his mouth.

Spoiler: OOC

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Grabbed goon fails his dodge, Mindcrash has him Immobile + Defenseless + Impaired. He tries to break free and fails.

Driver tries for another grab, misses again.

The one with the pistol threatens with it, but takes no further action this round.

The remaining goon tries to Pepper Spray Kia, and fails both by lousy roll and GM fiat. However, the wheel of fortune lands on Identity as the triggered complication for her HP. Think fast, Kia'tim!

Argent

*Thunk*

Arrol's crushing blow makes a disturbingly solid noise as he takes yet another robber off their feet, knocking the poor dumb bastard out cold before he hits the ground, or in his case, the wall.

"No trouble from me, boss!" Comes the rather frantic assurance from the robber wise enough to surrender as he watches his compatriot go sailing backwards, sliding down to lie motionless next to the victim of manhole Frisbee.

He may not be trouble, but the pair inside certainly are. "Stay right where you are, freak!" The shouted command comes with added teeth, as both men have grabbed hostages, and are holding them in front of the entrance as human shields!

Spoiler: OOC

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Robber fails his save against the boxing glove and goes down. HP for the hostage complication.

The Dancing Divas

"Hello Bri." Laurel's voice responds before Brienne even has time to get out a syllable. "You know, I'm not the only one who can do this. You need to change your burner more often, or let me make you a real phone. I'm almost sure it'll be safe and probably not sentient."

"Oooh, yes please!" The teen technopath perks right up when the Diva explains what needs to be done. "Of course I can do it. I can do anything, just takes time, and resources. But you don't have time, so let me find a back way in. You've got cameras where you are, right? Go pick out a good one. I'll call back when I'm done."

As Justin strains, another voice comes through on soulnet. Oddly enough, it's Laurel again. "Oh hey. This is neat! Much more secure than the phone. Are you doing it with the nanites? You know they're not made for that, you're gonna burn out your head and die. Do you have anyone near the airport? ATC communication is going completely nuts. Should have someone take a look. Bye!"

[Nintendogeek01]

Mindcrash
Hero Points: 1
Condition: Normal

Mindcrash, once again, simply floated aside the one who kept trying to ineffectually grab her, the man's impotence was astounding.

"Don't move!" The one who missed with his taser reaches for his belt and unholsters a much more serious weapon, a hefty-looking pistol...

When the man tried to threaten her with his odd-looking firearm Mindcrash simply raised up a fist as if she were clenching something, not a necessary gesture with her basic telekinesis, but this way she came across as more intimidating, and it seemed to be working...

...which he waves at Kia with rather shaky hands, clearly a bit out of his depth this up close and personal with a powerful super.

Now then, while maintaining her grip on this one it should be an easy matter to, one at a time, scoop up the rest of them and then hold them aloft to...

The man who got booted out of the van picks himself up with a groan. He pulls a small canister from his belt and sneers "Let's see how much fight you've got with your eyes burned out!"

"!!!" Mindcrash turns her head and most of the pepper spray is mercifully wasted, but the man's momentum continues through and knocks off her sunglasses! "Ah!" Mindcrash gasps in surprise and, without really thinking about it, throws the goon she's currently holding into the one who was shakily holding his firearm earlier!

"Mmph!?" The groggy sound of confusion and... recognition? would probably make a lot more sense without an oily rag stuffed in his mouth.

"<$#!%>!" Mindcrash swears in her native tongue before using her telekinesis to pull her sunglasses back up to their proper position. Did he see? Did he see? Damn it he couldn't have seen right? Right? Okay deal with whether he saw later, right now still hostiles in the field... just... play it off like nothing happened and maybe he'll forget... right? Ahem...

"You're outmatched!" Mindcrash declared to the remaining soldiers, all while floating where she was and keeping her arms up defensively, raring to keep going!

Spoiler: Actions

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Standard Action: Defensive attack routine throw my held minion into the gun-toting minion for a routine result of 15

Result of Standard Action: Both the thrown target and the one hit must make a DC26 toughness save from the impact of the throw... even if for some reason that misses the thrown minion is still going to go flying until he hits something for that same toughness rank. Mindcrash's defenses are at +2 this round.

Move Action: Nothing.

Free Action: Retrieve the non-resisting object of sunglasses with telekinesis and move them back to their proper place.

I'm actually looking forward to role-playing the aftermath with Rob later whether he buys the "Play-off" or not.