Masks: A New Generation of Heroes

Game Master Cwethan

"So, They come here and take people, then release them later 'perfectly content', yet completely missing their memories of potentially years of time. Something about that feels dangerous, my own situation aside. We" he indicates everyone in the room, including Hashtag and his mother by gesturing "Need to come up with a way to go to their realm and find out what the heck is going on, and we need to do it quickly. I think we" this time he indicates his team "Have the makings of a plan, but we'll need help. Do the defenders have anyone who specializes in dimensional travel? Even if they've never been to the specific dimension that the 'givers' are from, it could help us to talk to them."

Tectonic snorts and says offhandedly. "Please, Hashtag. If I thought that Wingblade really had the cojones to kick you off the team, I would be kicking her ass six ways from Sunday rather than having a pleasant conversation about alien abductions with her. Trust me, it was all idiotic posturing."

"You must be still concussed. Hashtag quit, and you couldn't kick my ass even if I had both arms and legs broken," Wingblade responds with cool confidence.

You all suddenly become aware of the entirety of the Defenders watching this scene play out, and you become acutely aware of the what bickering in the middle of an important pre-operation meeting looks like.

Matrix raises a simulated eyebrow to Haden, who returns the gesture with a shrug and then glances to Whippoorwill, who is burying her face in one hand. Even Hashtag's mother is getting a bit uncomfortable.

"You guys wanna borrow a mediation room?" Nick asks as he jabs a thumb deeper into the complex. "Matrix calls it that, but I call it "The room of punching the s@~* out of each other until you make up."

He continues.

"Listen, Haden, I appreciate you thinking outside the box. Inventive solutions that usually work an all, but I'm not going to deal with children pretending to be heroes."

Nick isn't technically an adult so no influencing move here

So in the spirit of comic book fiction, we eventually have to find some sort of resolution between these 'tiffs. And that involves compromise even if you believe your character is the rock-hard standard of character development and can't be changed no matter what. That won't fly in Masks since the system is all about change. Any ideas, mostly from the mainly involved. I'd like to find a situation where a mutual understanding comes into play. If not....I have ideas, derailing ideas, but ideas none the less...

Tectonic doesn't seem too perturbed by the scorn of the heroes, but shrugs at Nick's smug snark. "Drama all aside, why are we here in particular again? Do you guys have some sort of weird interdimensional treaty with some kind of cosmic overlord that you can't go interfering with other dimensions and you need us to take care of this problem, or some other kind of BS?"

If you find yourself in a hole, quit digging, Whippoorwill had told her once. Though she wanted to further bury Tectonic under the Heroes' disdain, she couldn't do so without getting sunk herself.

She straightens and looks contrite. "I'm sorry for speaking out of turn. Please, how can we help?"

Ghost Dragon looks between the two, a look of annoyance on his face. What the hell has gotten into these two? They're making us look bad.

"Perhaps if these two spent some time in a mediation room, that would be a good thing. Now, I want to iron something out regarding the question of whether Hashtag is still on the team. Hashtag, do you still want to be on the team?" Ghost Dragon turns to the teen sitting next to him. In the end, it was his choice, and neither Tectonic nor Wingblade could force him to do otherwise.

Condition(s): None

Atoms was already thinking about the Hashtag situation, but he had almost forgotten this Tectonic v Wingblade aspect of it. Nick's suggestion, that they borrow a mediation room in order to work things out through violence, might just be what the Team needs. In-fact, it played into an idea that was on Atoms' mind for a while now. A bit of a training session for the whole team.

"That sounds great actually, once we're done with this meeting. A mediation room, or a training room, and something for me to wear so I can take part," requests the former deputy. Atoms speaks to the Team next. "I have an idea for us, and now that we know that Alexis isn't about to 'sacrificed', I'd say we have the time for it. It'll get us into fighting shape."

"What I wanted was to kick bad guy butts with my friends," Hashtag replies. "And then it turned into this hardcore, super-serious 'team' crap." He grunts "I mean, really guys? You know how often I 'do what I'm told' to know that bossing me around is not going to work." he jerks a thumb over to his mother. "Just ask her how long it took to get me to eat my vegetables."

"So yeah, when an aggressive murder-harpy hopped up on her own guilt violently orders me to take the headset and get back on the team... I be me." he grumbles. "And yeah, I did tell her I'd 'port her into space if she did that again."

Hashtag's mom scowls at him but in a strangely sweet voice speaks up. "Aww... you must've liked her." she says. Hashtag does a double-take.

"What?!" he asks.

She grins. "You know she's a flyer and regenerates. She'd survive how far you could send her. If you really wanted to kill her, you'd have 'ported her straight down."

Hashtag's face turns red. "Mom!" he growls. "Thanks for ruining my cred..." he sighs and slouches further in his chair.

Wingblade feels her cheeks heat up and she shifts her stance a couple times, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She looks helplessly toward Whippoorwill.

Condition(s): None

"That's understandable," replies Atoms to Hashtag. "In-fact, if I'm totally honest with you guys..." He looks around at the team, and proceeds to reveal a long kept secret. "Half the reason I'm on patrol all the time is so you can all relax, have lives, and not need to get into all that "hardcore, super-serious team" stuff. And I know that's probably misguided, and maybe a mistake, but, before I became this." Atoms gestures to himself. "I trained to be police, SWAT, and I even looked into higher agencies like FBI and AEGIS. My mission from the start has always been to fight so that others don't need to."

The former deputy takes a second to think before adding something else. He seems a little frustrated.

"I don't speak for the Defenders, but let me make one thing clear. This isn't about "kicking bad guy butt" anymore. We were invited to help deal with a serious situation because the Defenders thought us ready, willing, and prepared to deal with the risks involved. Whether that's you or not," Atoms directs that "you" to no one in particular, "You can step up or step out later. Right now, I think we all owe it to Nick to be quiet for five seconds so he can finish his briefing."

Finished, he turns back to Nick, but not before letting his gaze linger on Wingblade for a bit.

PIERCE THE MASK (+ Mundane, + Influence): 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (1, 6) - 1 = 6
*sigh* Marking Potential.

A black fingernail slowly doodled upon the tabletop as he tried to not focus in on the bickering between the two. Eyes would flicker up between the three of them; Tectonic, Wingblade, and Hashtag. It was like fire meeting oil with tinder being thrown in to keep the fire burning. It was burning them all up and away, revealing the insecurities of the team and in the most public of settings.

The Defenders watched on with a mixture of incredulity, embarrassment, and irritation. There were people being kidnapped, taken and used for who knows what, and now more were being taken at this point than ever before. Even the thought that they were just assumed to be okay was frustrating beyond belief but how could he ask deeper questions when his friends were falling apart so easily. How the hell did they scrape by the battle that saved Nora, destroyed the science community, and put them at odds with everyone when one bad engagement?

Nick's words make him laugh for a moment and he nods, looking at the hoodied hero with a nod.

"Yeah, yeah I agree with what he and what Atoms here is saying. We've all been through worse guys, we've all had worse things happen to us then just today. So let's stop acting like we're five years old and get to the task at hand." His voice was low, calm, but irritated. Looking away and back towards Nick, he'd gesture for him to continue and to hopefully answer all their questions.

Whippoor catches Wingblade's glance, and gives a handsign.

Focus.

With everyone in the team seeming to cool off a bit, Nick is at least satisfied to continue.

"Matrix, pull up the image if you please." to which she obliges. A hologram appears in the middle of the room, depicting spheres made of grids. One small, another large.

"So yeah, our dimension is the bigger one, and the smaller one is the Givers. And this..."

Suddenly there are several hundred more spheres surrounding both earth and the Giver's dimensions.
"...is everyone else who want's a piece of the Giver's action. I'd estimate at least 70% of those want to use the Givers selfishly, and unfortunately, we are included on the list."

"I've seen a future where the Giver's migrate to Earth. Very, very, very bad." Foresight informs everyone, Nick nodding along.

"But with recent events and our intel, we are pretty damn sure someone's found the dimensional coordinates to their world. I'd rather not let a nefarious dimension get a hold of the Giver's who can open portals to anywhere they'd like. So....we need a hand."

A phantom hand flies over and waves in Nick's face, who immediately swats it to the ground. He glares at Haden.

"Main point. We need capable volunteers to serve as diplomats or protect the city while we're gone. I'd normally just say stay and watch the city, but poster boy over there says it might cause the public to lose faith in heroes or soemthing if we all skedaddle for a couple weeks. Anyway, this won't happen for a few weeks, nothing's going to happen before then but everyone gearing up."

Eldritch studies the holograms there as they appear, the multitude of dimensions appearing. His eyes widen as he, for a moment, looks in awe of what is out there in the world. Yet that almost child-like excitement is squashed and disappeared back behind that calm, focused demeanor once more when he remembers the truth. There is more than just that, more than just wondrous miracles and beautiful sights. There are the things that are in the spaces in between all of those, terrible things.

The plan is explained plainly and simply; they require diplomats and they require people to stay and protect the city. Eldritch would look down for a moment as he cleared his throat, not making eye contact with the others.

"I think we should stay and protect the city. We haven't really made good first impressions with the Givers when they arrived here." His voice gets a little lower after that, barely a murmur. "It didn't help that I made one explode...or something..."

Ghost Dragon can hardly believe it. He'd barely been doing this for half a year, and already he was facing a crazy multi-dimensional crisis. The ultimate superhero challenge, and he was already getting to face one.

He looks at Eldritch as he states his case for staying and protecting the city. He thinks for a moment, then says, "Eldritch is right - we didn't make a good first impression, given that we kind of started punching them. But I think I may be of more use as a diplomat. While I was trying to contain the Giver at Franklin, he hit me with some sort of vision barrage. I saw his people living happy, peaceful lives, then got feelings of fear and terror. I saw a vision of an arena, and...from the Giver I felt an overwhelming urge to protect one's family." Looking about, he says, "Now that I know something of what his people are feeling, I might be able to empathize with them if we need to speak with them."

Tectonic clears her throat. "Hate to be the one stating the obvious here, but we're barely a step above your average villain in the public eye here." Tectonic begins ticking off all of the team's blunders with her fingers. "First of all, right when the team formed, we accidentally wrecked a legitimate research station working on a cure to leukemia or something above the nefarious base that was making super-soldiers. More recently, we got into a tussle with Haxor, and for whatever reason people are blaming the flying cars on us. And no more than an hour ago I destroyed a school trying to stop the Givers, and we failed in that mission. Is there... well, there has to be some other junior team that can take care of all this s+@% while you're gone. Right? I mean, if we f### up one more time, we're all going to get tossed in supermax. And we're all teenagers. We are guaranteed to f@~# up at some point."

"We should be the ones to go to the giver's dimensions, mainly because we're expendable. More than your superpowers, you give people hope. Tectonic is right; people do not get hope from us."

Hashtag just turns to his mom and shrugs. "Uhhh... I'm just gonna let my past speak for itself." he says finally. "Spent my entire teenage life getting spit on for who I am. I ain't a diplomat; Im a scapegoat."

-Posted with Wayfinder

"They don't know that," she says to Hashtag, getting a spark of inspiration thanks to Whippoorwill's instruction. Then she addresses everyone. "They don't know us at all. If you really want our thoughts on this, then I say we should go. Yeah, they may remember us from today, but is that really a bad thing? We hurt them easily as bad as they hurt us, so hopefully they'll listen. Or even better, send someone with us to be the diplomat. We'll be the backup."

Wingblade re-pops her broken hand back in alignment. "The guy who spoke to me, he said something about making sacrifices to protect your home or whatever. I thought he meant he was going to sacrifice Alexis. But maybe that means he'll understand what we're doing when we go."

Condition(s): None

Atoms listens to everyone's insights, silently pondering the best course of action, and noting that only Wingblade and him are yet to speak. The Team seems split between going or staying. It made his head spin, there was a lot to consider. Plus, the plan he talked about earlier for the team was still on his mind.

He grins at Haden's gag and nearly loses his train of thought. Classic Haden. Of course, Wingblade takes this opportunity to say her part before Atoms can. Classic Wingblade...

"So we're decided then? We're all going?", asks Atoms, rhetorically. "Then, if Nick is finished, I think it's important to talk about two things. One, our group will need to settle on a name or at least a temporary codename, otherwise things are going to get very confusing really fast. Two, we need to start planning out what we're going to do for preparation, and explore what training and "gearing up" looks like for each of us and for the team as a whole."

The former deputy had an idea, or ideas, for everyone in the group, but he didn't want to presume to know what each person should be focusing on.

"Fine. We'll go then." Eldritch says rather resolutely, nodding in agreement with Atoms. The truth was that inside, his stomach was twisting. He wasn't kidding after all; his target exploded. Sure, Tycho did some crazy stuff to the woman's mind but she wasn't torn apart possibly and existing somewhere where they shouldn't exist. Especially given now how the Givers could present incredible power, what if the cultists in service of Kktharos discovered them? The idea was horrifying, most certainly.

"Is there anything else you need?" He asked of the Defenders, looking at each one of them in turn. What preparations could he make? It isn't like he could sit down with a book about them and read about the Givers. Could he?

"Also...do you guys have...a book or something about the Givers? Something to brush up on who they are, whatever we know about them?"

Condition(s): None

Atoms looks back and forth between everyone in the group. He had ideas for each of them, for training, and he was beginning to doubt that he should stay silent. He quickly decides that he should have more confidence in himself, and speaks up.

"Actually, before we get too far into things. I'd like to voice my opinion on something." Atoms pauses for a second, before looking at Ghost Dragon and addressing him. "I think it'd be great if our accomplished martial artist, Ghost Dragon, were to train Eldritch and Hashtag in a little of what he knows. If he and they are willing, of course." Then he turns his gaze onto the members of the team he hasn't mentioned yet. "Northstar and Wingblade can train with me, and Tec and Imagine can go into either group because they could benefit from either."

He looks at Tectonic, and starts to explain himself.

"Ghost Dragon can get some practice, Eldritch can learn how to fight without using his powers, and Hashtag can learn how to better defend himself. Wingblade and Northstar train with me because I can take their punches. And you," Atoms gestures towards Tectonic. "I don't know, maybe you might want to learn how to fight without your powers too, or perhaps you'll appreciate the chance to go 100% on someone."

While Atoms is saying all this, he's watching Tectonic and trying to figure out what she wants.

PIERCE THE MASK (+ Mundane, + Influence): 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (5, 4) - 1 = 8
That result lets me ask one question.
@Tectonic: What do you want me to do?

"Well... what's the worst that could happen?" he says, dropping his hands. "I'll just get punched in the face again."

Tectonic shrugs. "Well, I..." She pauses for a moment, looking out of the corner of her eye at... something. "Martial arts... martial arts would be good."

"I don't like the idea of fighting you guys. I don't want to hurt you."

Ghost Dragon looks at Atoms and thinks for a moment before nodding slowly. "I could do that. It certainly wouldn't hurt anything. I'd be starting with the basics, but knowing the proper way to throw a punch is a great way to avoid injury. If I'm training Tectonic, though, I'll need some training equipment that can handle super strength. You could probably break a regular punching bag pretty easily." Ghost Dragon gives Tectonic a smile, showing he means no ill will by his comment on her strength.

I'm guessing superhero training equipment exists.

"Hey, I'm no slouch when it comes to a scuffle. There is a reason that I use the hardiest nail polish, after all." Kenneth says as he looks over his nails, smirking a little bit at Atom's plan. It made sense, for certain, to get them training together again. Training helped build bonds and work out the worst of their emotions. Maybe they could get back on track.

With Hashtag's comment, Kenneth will wrap an arm around the delinquent's shoulder and sigh. "Don't worry, I got pretty good at makeup. Worse case, I'll just doll you up Vick." The calm and slightly sarcastic facade seems to break for just a moment there, as Kenneth speaks a bit lower. "Don't worry man, you got this. You're trickier than you think. We'll work something out, it'll be the gym all over again."

Comfort Vick: 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (4, 5) - 1 = 8

If Vick opens up, he can mark potential, shift labels, or clear a condition.

When Tectonic agrees to train with martial arts and Ghost Dragon voices his concern for it, Kenneth nods in agreement. "There is this old logging camp outside of town Tectonic and I discovered way back. It is a good place to let stress out, maybe a good place to train too? It is really off the beaten path, no one goes out there really."

When Tycho mentions that he doesn't want to hurt anyone, Eldritch's calm smile seems to fade for a moment. He felt like he and the psychic had a connection of some sort, both had a fate that was pushed on them and he could relate to that terrible fear.

"Northstar...maybe you and I can train together? I've focused a lot on mental regimen, to try and keep the powers that be controlled and in check. If you want, we could see about practicing our control, you know?

Wingblade could barely keep from gagging, rolling her eyes or scoffing while Atoms suggested they train amongst themselves. They were standing in the presence of one of the world's premier hand-to-hand combat experts. In fact, all the different dimensions shown in the hologram display could probably only muster a handful of beings with fighting prowess that matched Whippoorwill's.

Next to her, they were all -- Wingblade included -- strictly junior league.

She felt a little embarrassed for Atoms, wondering if he was aware of that. She looked to Whippoorwill to see if she showed signs of insult, but she remained poised and full of cool confidence.

Wingblade wonders how long it would take for Ghost Dragon to really train Hashtag and Eldritch. More than a couple weeks, that's for sure, even assuming that their anti-authority tendencies don't stretch it out. She had to concede Atoms' idea had merit -- Hash had apparently freaked and ran when someone went at him with a sword, clearly -- but how could they afford the time?

"Can you tell me why it's going to take weeks before we go? Training's good and all, but shouldn't we still go right away? Give us what information you have -- which doesn't sound like a lot -- and we go?"

Vick sighs, rolling his eyes as Kenneth buddies up to him and putting only a marginal effort to shrug him off. "All right, man, if you want me to, I'll give it a shot." he can't help but smile at his friend's cheer.

I'll open up and remove the Insecure affliction. I'm also wondering what Ji-wan's mom is doing there, now.

Tectonic pipes up. "This is a chronic problem, not an immediate one. Sounds like things are getting worse over there, but, not to sound callous, they can probably hold off whatever threat that they're facing for a few more weeks. I'd rather go in as a team than a bunch of confused and angry teenagers who are still pissed at each other."

Carefully measuring her speech to not sound upset or anxious, she replies to Tec. "No, it's not chronic anymore. Didn't you hear? Hundreds have been taken this time. We go now, we face however many they're able to give powers to in a day. We wait a couple weeks, it's probably all of them: powered up and brainwashed. No amount of training in a week or two can make that up."

She then looks at the Defenders for support. "Am I right or wrong?"

Tectonic raises an eyebrow. "You have a point. The thing is, though, we don't know that they're brainwashed. And the ideal solution isn't to fight the Givers, it's to eliminate whatever the hell that they're fighting over there. And, as you said, we have the added bonus of having however many kids who are actually in a good mindset to fight out of that hundred to go up against the threat that the Givers are fighting."

"Woah there, wingblade. We're not going there to ASSAULT the place." he counters. "We can go talk. If there's more of them, then fin. But ultimately, it's not about how many you FIGHT. We're trying to make a peace here."

He holds up a hand. "She brings up a good point though. I don't want her leading this." He grunts and shakes his head when the inevitable bad looks are leveled at him. "No, not because we don't like each other. My reasons: One, she's a long way from being clear-headed about this. Two, She's practically seething with murder. The littlest challenge to her authority and she can't think straight. I think her mentor knows this too. She's not able to handle leading a diplomatic mission, where you need to maneuver with words, now sword-wings. Third, the things she just said tells me she's not intent on making any peace happen."

"If she wants to lead the fight against whatever's got the givers panicking, then sure, no other person I'd want in charge." he shakes his head. "I mean, I don't believe I'd be much help against anything she's tangoing with, but she is a mean dancer."

Wow, Hash. Way to strike the nerve with a sledgehammer.

Wingblade stares at Hashtag completely stunned. Her mouth works, but she's unable to find her voice as she tries to process the Delinquent's words. Seething with murder. Seething. With murder. Murder.

Her fists clench, and a lightning bolt of pain races up her arm and stabs her brain behind her eye. Rather than clearing her head, it barely registers in her jumbled, outraged, horrified, disbelieving thoughts. She wanted to scream at him, but some part of her realizes that doing so would prove his point, even though he couldn't be more wrong about her.

She looks around at the others, his accusation still hanging in the air and everything else he said going entirely missed. Seething with murder.

She fights for control, trying to prove him wrong by showing she wasn't fazed by his accusation. But she was hurt. Hurt deeply. Even the screaming pain in her hand was distant and mild as her chest feels ripped open as she finally realizes what the rest of the team really saw her as.

"I see," she says finally, eyes brimming with tears. "I'm a murderer. That's all I am. I can't not be one. It's how I was made. I'm seething with murder."

She turns and begins walking out of the hall, stopping only to look over her shoulder briefly. "Call me when you've decided something needs killed."

Surrendering Influence on Hashtag to inflict Guilty on him.

Condition(s): None

It felt awesome to have everyone go along with his idea, and even more so to have them all support him when objections were made. Atoms' confidence swelled. Not only did he discover new powers today (saving a boatload of people in the process), but now he was growing closer to the team. Tectonic, Eldritch, and Ghost Dragon especially. And man, having the chance to work alongside The Defenders? That was just icing on the cake.

However, just like earlier, Wingblade ruins the mood.

Except, it's different this time. Before, it was her lack of care that triggered it, but now she seemed to care a lot. Before, Atoms was upset, angry even, but now... Now he feels sad. And protective. Very protective. Not unlike that day when Redshift attacked Halcyon City; when Wingblade and Atoms first met, and he became what he is today.

Wingblade walks by Atoms on her way out. He instinctively reaches for her, but recoils at the last second, stopping himself. It's a painful moment, and everyone in the room has a front row seat. For as much power and strength as Atoms has, he can't touch anyone or anything without causing irreversible harm. The former deputy still moves after Wingblade, following her, but he turns and addresses his fellow superheroes on the way out.

"It's been a traumatizing day for her, for all of us," explains Atoms. "Please continue without me." Then he quickly adds. "Tec, fill me in on the rest of the briefing when I get back. Ghost, make sure everyone gets some rest." His orders are less about taking charge and more about keeping the rest of the team on track with the mission at hand, and not chasing after Wingblade like he's doing now.

Atoms practically jogs to catch up with Wingblade. He wants badly to offer a comforting touch, to stand beside her, but instead he's forced to keep his distance. Make sure he doesn't cause any further injury. When they've left the meeting room behind, he speaks.

"I'm coming with. Do you want to talk? We can find one of those mediation rooms or something."

Kenneth was in the same boat with Atoms at this point, he was happy to see his team starting to fuse back together now. People were hurt, people were scared, and at the end of the day they were all people. People with powers, sure, but they all had the same fears, the same worries, the same everything.

There were worries about their training but the honest thought was that Eldritch didn't see this as a chance to become "stronger" or "better". He knew his strength, he knew his weaknesses, and he knew that this team could probably become the next Defenders if they pushed themselves for it. They had the power, the skill, it was the cohesion that was threatening them so much.

Like trying to piece together a broken plate made of porcelain, the whole thing shattered again and Kenneth could see how Wingblade closed down. He recognized it because he had to do the very same thing. Emotions were dangerous when you had an Elder Thing's strength and will yet they were the most potent source of power.

"Sheyara, that isn't what he meant. You-" She was already out the door at that point, Atoms quickly behind her, and his fists would clench and that blue fire would begin to rise from them.

"G$+$*#nit!" He growled out, turning and meeting the eyes of both Tectonic and Hashtag. He should keep his damn mouth shut, he should remain the cool and collected man he was. They were both his friends, friends he hung out with and friends he called upon when things bothered him. Yet could he really keep letting things go and just remain quiet? No, not anymore. The group needed them to speak up, they needed those that were quiet and reserved to start speaking their mind. His eyes flickered towards the Defenders, looking over each of them before he spoke.

"I'm sorry if this is unprofessional or whatever, but honestly, I don't give a s@~& at the moment." After getting that out, his eyes flickered towards Hashtag first.

"You're my friend man, you know this. We've done stuff together that we should really get in trouble for and we likely will again. I know you were scared, there isn't anything wrong with that. What I am upset with is hurting our friend. You keep sticking your g@%!&%n knife into her again and again without a second thought! You know that, despite everything today, she likes you right? That she was trained by one of the best fighters in the world and yet she hangs out with us, right? And I know you care, you care enough because you give her this s@** but this barbed wire exterior man? It's got to stop or you got to trim it back some. Not everyone is you and your words...your words are hurting people Vick." Next his attention would turn to Tectonic, his head shaking a bit before he sighed in frustration.

"I heard how you talked to Wingblade. I'm not saying that what she did was right, but did you take a moment to look at things from her side? What she's been raised with too? What decisions she's made to get here? We made her team leader and she accepted it without hesitation or question. When she makes a mistake, we rip at her! How dare she f$+% up something! How dare she get emotional, upset, hurt! If those roles were switched, would you want that? Would you want her calling you a b!*&!? Would you!?"

His hands shake slightly with emotion and adrenaline, his fists clenching as he calms the fires that began to leak from his eyes and pull the sigils that spread across his face inwards.

"I...I don't want to fight with you guys. I don't think where either of you were coming from was wrong. Just...she's our friend. Think about that for a moment. She. is. our. friend. If I'm wrong, then f!!@ me right? Ignore what I said. We'll train, we'll get things ready for the mission, everything. If I am right though, if we are friends, then you should get out of this room and you should apologize. You should talk this out and we should all just listen."

Provoke Hashtag: 2d6 - 2 ⇒ (1, 6) - 2 = 5
Provoke Tectonic: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7

Hit on Tectonic. If you don't go, you mark a condition. Hashtag, do whatev :P. Marking potential and upgrading my playbook.

He would settle back into his seat, running both hands through his hair as he looked at them. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn't. He felt a weight come off of him though before he looked to Ghost Dragon and nodded.

"Text me a time and locale, I'll be there for you to hit me, alright? Defenders." He'd give the collected heroes an apologetic nod and push away from the table with a tired smile and make his way out. Maybe he should pick up smoking, it'd help with the stress.

I'd also like to offer this as a chance to clear my Guilty. I am sacrificing my good standing within the team and the two characters that Kenneth considers good people for the team. What are your thoughts Default?

EDIT: I did my roll wrong. I will be sacrificing influence on Tectonic to get the hit.

When Atoms catches up to Wingblade, he sees her in the atrium looking up, eyeing the skylights. Her wings are open and twitching like she's about to take flight.

He speaks, and she freezes in place. Her head half turns toward him. "Talking's stupid. We've been talking. Blah, blah, blah. It's all pointless and stupid." Her attempt at being callous and uncaring crumbles almost instantly. She buries her face in the crook of her elbow and turns her back fully toward him, the bladed feathers fanned out defensively.

Unintentional ego crit.
Vick's been having a hard time dealing with how angry she made him. But, he was able to break down what he saw as flaws in the plan. He voiced his concerns, even tried being civil about it. Well, as civil as he could get.

Still, he was not expecting her reaction. Too human, at least, for a preprogrammed assassin. He quickly throws an illusion over himself to mask his movements as he watches her go; everyone else just sees him glowering and slouched in his chair.

There you go, you big a@&!+$$. his thoughts harangue him. She's not just some machine after all. Feel any better? No?

Accepting that guilty. Hoo boy.

And then Kenneth tore into him too. Though his initial impulse was to push away, Vick's not completely retarded. He knows that he should do *something*, but he's not about to just admit that to everyone.

The Vick everyone sees leans back in the chair, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "I said Practically, god." his image replies while the real one sits on the floor at the foot of his chair, unseen, and thinks. "And I'm still right about everything else. Yeah, I was scared. Yeah, I'm pissed. Yeah, maybe I could have said it nicer, but when has she done that to me? Never."

He decided. Gotta deal with this because otherwise, everyone will faff around trying to patch things together from the outside when the problem is between me and Wingblade. He takes a breath, concentrates, and puts together his best illusion.

Unleash your powers: 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (3, 5) - 1 = 7
okay, so I'll let Default decide how this comes out as flawed.

Hashtag slips out the room when Kenneth leaves. He doesn't teleport; his mother'd notice that instantly. He shadows Kenneth closely, knowing how his friend walks to keep his footsteps in line. As far as anyone can tell, he's still in the chair, and will remain so for a little while. That illusion was simple, static, and not what he had been working on.

This one blended him with the environment, it masked his heat emissions, hid his breath, and sounds of his movement. He separated from Kenneth and followed after Deputy Atom's rather obvious trail of ozone and disrupted electronics. He comes into sight while Wingblade has her back to him and he nods, taking a deep breath. Hey, no worries, they can reattach hands, right? he thinks, coming forward.

Back in the briefing room, his dupe says suddenly. "Mom knows where to find me." he says, and the illusion dissolves.

To Atoms and Wingblade, Hashtag appears, one hand barely touching one of Wingblade's organic metal feathers, his other hand grabbing his arm and he looks over to Deputy Atoms. "Gonna borrow her B-R-B." he mutters quickly, and by then it's too late to stop them.
Unleash your powers: 2d6 - 1 ⇒ (4, 6) - 1 = 9
I'm reshaping my environment by moving me and Wingblade someplace private we can resolve this issue. And I can apologize. I'll take the Insecure label to pay for this. (so close)

To someone untrained, they wouldn't notice the shift since they didn't feel the transition. But Wingblade was not untrained. Despite her face being shielded by her arm, she knew immediately she had been moved even if her other senses hadn't picked up him speaking and even making contact with her wing.

Instead of the home of the Defenders, they're standing in the empty central dome of a now dismantled observatory. Wingblade's studies had taught her that this place had once been the lair of a villain on the edge of Halcyon city that used his devices to control the weather. The Defenders had ruined his plots, and Lord Typhoon now enjoys a cell three down from Blink. His equipment was long since removed. The lack of telescope in the center leaves a small mess of girded catwalks around and empty space. It's silent and lonely here.

Throughout the walls of the dome, even up high, a spraypaint mural covers every available inch of open space. None of it gang-signs; they all bear Hashtag's signature art style. A sleeping bag, wind up radio, and a backpack half-open is spilling dingy clothes out the opening. Several pizza boxes are discarded out of the way, and he's managed to make a six-foot structure out of 12 pack boxes. Strangely, there's a plastic lawn chair with optimal view of the night sky, and a bag next to it full of yarn, cotton stuffing, and knitting needles.

Hashtag's sitting on one of the railings of the outermost circular platform, one leg on the rail and the other trailing off. He's looking straight at her, and his expression is not one of anger or any form of malice. Instead, he looks almost as emotionally wrecked as she does. "I can send you back if you want." he starts. "But I f!&+ed up, and I need you to hear me out."

He lights up a cigarette and takes a drag, staring up at the night sky through the open panel in the dome. "No one's ever found me here, not for years." he admits. "It's been the only place I can be me, and no one care."

He hops off the rail, landing a few feet down on another catwalk. He approaches her, in a roundabout fashion. He talks unless she leaves. "I was an a&%*@%~." he confesses, taking another drag and then flicking the thing away. "You aren't just a machine made for killing. You're just in over your head, and I haven't been making it better. Humans, humans get hurt by words. Big, dumb words."

He doesn't move like he's going to stop her from attacking him. "I am sorry. Everything went t$&& up today, and I know I didn't make things better. I can't. I just...can't be like... everyone else!"

He ends up sinking to the ground directly in front of her, sitting up in a sprawl and not looking directly at her as he opens up. "Look... you guys-the rest of you- are amazing, okay? Strong, tough, capable, and you know what to do." he shrugs. "I'm not. I'm not ANY of those things. I'm just this punk kid who doesn't even pay attention to school cause I think I'm better than it and all I have going for me are some stupid powers that just help me deceive people and run away."

A tear leaks out the corner of his eye, unnoticed by him. "And it's not like I can *be* any better than that. I'm not. My first impulse is to talk smack, do something witty, and leave if things don't go my way. They usually don't. I have no business being here with you guys anyways."

He looks up at her, a pained smile on his face. "We're kinda the opposites in every way, you know?" he says. "You're good looking, skilled, educated, powerful, and what's most is that everyone expects you to be a good guy. Girl. Whatevs."

He looks up at the murals on the wall, of them can be seen with decent nightvision paintings of the different heroes of their team having cool moments of triumph. Maybe there weren't as many thugs that one time, or the car wasn't THAT big, but everyone else has a spot on the mural but him.
"I'm none of those things. I'm weak, annoying, and my powers just... aren't good things. Everyone just expects me to be a villain. A sleazeball. An irresponsible punk with superpowers who doesn't deserve their trust or love."

"You don't have to forgive me. I was an a~+*@%@. I have been acting like everyone expects me to be, and look where it got us?" He looks more insecure now. "But... what else *could* I be? How would you want me to be?"

No, this aint no moment of truth, it IS, however, the second of my Delinquent team moves. I'm giving influence back to wingblade and asking her what she wants me to be.

Eldritch waves off the copy's last words, shaking his head dismissively and disappointingly.

"Always demanding, never giving, leads to just a hell of a lot of disappointment." He says over his shoulder back at the room as he makes his way down the corridors of the Defender's base. Maybe if he had just pushed himself that much harder, he could've helped more. Maybe next time, he'd really show what he could do. If being so damn conservative wasn't helping the situation, maybe they should all see what he could do when his powers started swinging.

"Next time. Next time they won't need to worry, or be scared, or be angry. Next time, I'll protect them all." He thought to himself, as he turned another corridor away from where Atoms and Wingblade had went and where Hashtag was now making his way. Too absorbed in his own thoughts, Eldritch really wasn't looking for anything or anyone at the moment. Then the stray thought came back again. "I wish Imagine was here."

Tectonic just stands, dumbstruck, as the team implodes around her. She opens her mouth, makes a few vague, uncertain gestures, as everybody takes off, then she sighs and hangs her head. "As I said before," she says, resigned. "Find somebody else. We're not ready for this. Doubt we ever could be, really, if we're all ready to go at each other's throats every time one of us sets somebody else off." She then turns back to the corridor that they entered through and leaves.

Yeesh, team breakup in Issue #2! :P

So Tectonic, you're choosing to mark an additional condition rather than try and go to apologize to Wingblade? I'm just making it clear because that is what the result of my hit does.

She registered the shift right away -- the air suddenly got several degrees cooler, the floor changed from solid marble to warped floorboards, the air smelled stale and musty, and the air pressure indicted she was several hundred feet higher in altitude.

She immediately drops into a fighting stance and assesses her surroundings. Her wings fan out defensively behind her as she spins slowly until her eyes fall on Hashtag. She glowers at him but makes no move, instead staying wary and alert for illusory tricks.

Then he asks to be heard out. She stays wary as he begins talking, opening up, confessing. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing.

When he finally asked his question of her, she reeled. It was too much. Her emotions were so raw, her hurt so fresh all she wanted to do was run, hide, and lick her wounds. She longed to go back to Whippoorwill, following her regimented, disciplined orders and forgetting this whole failed experiment of a team.

She almost leaves. She backs away from him and her wings twitch, ready to take flight and just leave him there. She needed time to sort out her own hurt and pain -- how could she help him when she'd wrecked everything else today?

But she pauses. She realizes that leaving now would devastate Vick even though a small but malicious part of her urges her to do just that.

She turns to face him, giving him a helpless shrug. Her wings close up and she sinks to the floor. She draws her knees up to her chest tightly as she looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

"I-- I don't know. Whippoorwill would know what to say. She has this way. A look. A word. I don't know how she does it. After you're so exhausted you can't move, she would say, 'get up.' Or when you're so helpless and lost, she'd say, 'do better.' And you would.

"I tried. I tried to be her. You wanted me to be the leader, so I tried. But I don't know how she does it. All I did was mess it up. You, Tec, you all hate me now. I was just doing what Whippoorwill did! It's got to be me. I'm a weapon. All I do is hurt people."

She points up to the murals, and waves her busted hand at it. "You really think that's me?" She shakes her head. "It's not. I'm not like that at all."

Her mind turns to what Hashtag had asked. How would I want him to be? She tries to think about what Whippoorwill would say. What she came up with sounded great in her head, but she didn't think she could say it without it sounding rude and harsh. She hangs her head in defeat, deciding not to try to inspire or motivate.

As the silence stretches, she wonders what Wingblade would say. Without any plan, she just starts talking. "I guess I would want you to be... nicer, maybe? To us, at least? You can be a jerk to the bad guys, sure. Heck, even the Defenders; they can take it. But... is that too hard? I don't know what it's like having a mom like that that, but she... seems nice. Whippoorwill fought her a time or two, you know. She knew Gearshift and Overdrive, too. She -- she doesn't think your mom just snapped. But your mom won't talk to her. So she... she can't help. But she wants to."

She looks up at him. "Your mom's not all bad. Neither are you."

Team move time!!!
Sharing a secret of my mentor, giving Influence to Hashtag and adding a Team

Tycho didn't really know what to say or do as his friends, the only real friends he had ever had, started fighting and then most of them left. He just looked from one to the other and none of them even acknowledged him.

"I...don't know how to deal with people fighting. I could make them stop, but it wouldn't help anything. Today my worst fear happened; I lost control for a second, and he slipped out. Then, my friends started shouting at each other and calling each other murderers and weapons. It's all terrible and I can't even really deal with it, because if I let it out, it would mean the end of everything. So I don't know what to do."

Tycho wasn't even aware that his communicator was still on, or that anyone was even in the room. He just got up and walked out of the room, not really even looking where he was going.

Well, I mean Kenneth did offer to train with him and talked with him before we ended up at the Defenders HQ. I'm just trying to make sure that people aren't missing my posts.

Hashtag stares at her as she sinks down. She was connecting to him, being more open to him than anyone else has, even Kenneth. He could hardly see the angry, screaming warrior girl now. It was like the facade had melted away, and she was just a vulnerable girl. Like him. Except female.

He scooted across the floor to sit side-by-side of her, and sat in a nearly similar way. "I don't *hate* you." he says after a second or two. "I might get angry, but what's the point of being friends if you can't be angry at each other now and again?"

He leans back holding his upper body up with his arms as he stares up at the ceiling dome. "God... Nicer?" he becomes silent again, thinking. "I can try." His smile is tired, but honest.

He remains silent a few seconds, riding the feel of the moment Finally he lets out a grunt and falls on his back. He lights up another cigarette but forgets to include the smell of smoke as he's doing it just for the physical action.

"Whippoorwill can be a super-hardass, yeah. But she gets stuff done. And she has the rep." Hashtag admits. "But... that works for her because she developed that way. But... Maybe... I dunno, you don't have to try to BE her? I'd rather you be, well, like not as scary as your mentor."

He takes another puff before continuing. "I think that's partly why mom's not talking. I only met Gearshift and Overdrive the day... that she killed them. I don't even really 'get' what happened either. All I know is that they found out I was her son and then took me from school to go talk to mom at her day job." he shrugs. "Everything after that was a terrifying blur that ended with me hiding under a stone bench and crying for my life."

He frowns. "I guess it doesn't matter now. But yeah, I'll... try to be... nice... to you guys. Least I can do." he says, flicking away the cigarette with a chuckle.

Something snapped when he started laughing, some sort of tension that even until that point remained between those two. He started laughing, his eyes closed and trickling tears. "So, this one time, I had ported into your tower to bring you a 2-liter of Big Red, this drink I thought you'd like... But when I got there you had just been done with training or something and you were like in this spandex workout outfit and, and I just... totally lost my concentration and ported the bottle into the wall behind the fridge! I totally panicked and popped back out. I think the bottle's... the bottle's still there!"

His laughter kind of reduces to a chuckle. "I didn't see nothing... you know. But... damn. I get why some heroes go with the skintight getup. Looks good."

Shayera's eyes go wide as her cheeks heat up. Her good hand grabs a lock of hair and tucks it behind her ear. She finds other hairs out of place and she runs her fingers through them urgently. She glances down at her clothes and wonders about her low-riding cargo pants, boots and tank. Not really a costume, she decides.

She looks back at Vick, watching him studying her. "I, um. Yeah, I guess. I haven't really... thought much about a costume."

Her heart thuds in her chest, not sure how to act. She bites her lip, looking away for a bit, then glancing back. "So, you like spandex?" Her face reddens, feeling self-conscious as she keeps fussing with her hair.

He smiles despite his rising embarrassment, glad to have finally gotten through the hard parts. "Well, if you got the body for it, it's great. But, it looks bad on me... see for yourself." he hops up, walking in front of her, and makes a badly impersonated runway model twist. His illusions change his outfit so that he's wearing an all spandex getup. It does look bad. He's gangly and it clings really tightly. It makes him look like one of those twig-like olympic types who slide down slaloms on a tiny sled. "Just not my style." he concludes, turning again and switching to a more 'modern pulp hero' style, with two comically oversized pistols in each hand and a skull painted on the front of his leather jacket. "Now this... this is cool." he laughs. Finished, he disperses his illusions. "You'd look good in spandex, but I can see so many wardrobe malfunctions with your fighting style." he pauses. "I mean, I wouldn't mind seeing them but-" he laughs at himself. "God that was lame."

Holding a hand out to help her stand, he tilts his head, trying desperately to avoid saying something inappropriate. "I have an idea." He says. "We need a team name. And we need to figure out some kind of costumes. This would be easier if we do it together." he offers. "C'mon. Let's go back."

Shayera stifles a giggle when Vick does his "runway walk." She shifts to a cross-legged sitting style while he shows off the Enforcer look, and she actually laughs out loud.

Then she shakes her head vehemently when he talks about wardrobe malfunctions. "Oh, no! That won't happen," she says as she grabs her tank at the belly and tugs hard at it. Surprisingly, it stretches but stays in place covering her small "assets." "Toupee tape. Whippoorwill buys it in bulk. You put a strip here and here--" She stops abruptly when she realizes Vick's eyes are zeroed-in on her chest.

"Yeah, we should probably go back," she nods, rising to her feet and turning slightly away from him.

Popping us back to the Defenders HQ. Or at least as close as I can safely put us if they have their defenses up.

Hashtag runs his mouth, Wingblade storms off, Atoms heads after her to try and talk to her, Eldritch heads out after laying into Hashtag, suddenly Hashtag disappears, Tectonic tells them to find someone else to handle it and walks away, and then Tycho talks about how he's scared of what future him did today and leaves. And then it's Ghost Dragon, all alone, sitting a table with Hashtag's mom and all the Defenders staring at him.

Looking at the adults in the room, he says, "When I was younger, I was a terror. I bullied other kids, talked back to adults, and generally a pain in the butt. One day, a martial arts demonstration came to my school. I saw it and thought, 'Great, I can punch people better.' So, I started going to classes. And I learned how to punch people. I also learned how to exercise self-restraint, discipline, and to treat others with respect."

Looking about, he says, "Most of this team doesn't have formal training, and those who do have it focused towards controlling their abilities. Hashtag needs to learn discipline and to use his abilities for more than wisecracking and spray painting billboards. Eldritch needs to learn not to be consumed by his power. Tectonic needs to learn when to rein her strength in. North Star needs to learn to ground himself in the identity of who he wants to be, not what he might become. Wingblade needs to learn that everything doesn't have to be on her just because we made her be the leader. Atoms has begun to make peace with who - and what - he has become, but he needs to move the rest of the way there. We all need to learn how to be a team. Atoms's idea will help with some of that, but the truth is, this will be a process and take time. If you guys can be patient, we can do the job. But it's going to take time on both of our parts. If you'd like, I can leave the room so you can discuss it."