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Trying to post new avatar.
Needed to blow off some steam and was pondering the transition from the Justice League to the Outsiders. Spoilering for length and for not being anything anyone needs to read.
She took note of an IV in her right arm and a numbness in her legs that suggested a spinal block. Possibly her legs were broken. Or she was paralyzed?
“Not paralyzed,” a familiar voice burred.
Her eyes cracked open, the dim light lancing into her head. “How bad is it?”
Grayson laughed, the laugh that had made him a friend to heroes of all kinds across a decades long career. “Broken collarbone, skull fracture, concussion, obviously. Your left leg was nearly severed, right broken. Both are being regenerated, which is not too painful but incredibly itchy, so we blocked it.
“You’ll be laid up for a while. We lost the Martians in the attack, and the Supergirl charade is obviously broken. I’ve brought in some scabs to keep a lid on things for a while. They did a good job with a situation in the Sea of Japan, could have been a a World War or worse. So we are ok for the moment. I’d like to have a heavy, Marvel or Horus, even Connor. Connor is taking Megan’s death hard. Spend a couple days in Antarctica and then bugged out in a Javelin for Mars.”
Amazing what a few days of the best medical care in the solar system would do. She felt good, but stiff and in need of a workout. For the moment, Knightingale was gone, dead or injured beyond recovery. So the costume was on a rack. She was wearing a heavily upgraded motorcycle style helmet, and custom leathers with a yellow panels running down the sides. Even as a teen, she had avoided the fishnets. “No daughter of mine is going to kick criminals in the face wearing nylon,” Oliver had said. “Not to mention that Kid Atom ogling her.”
So she kept it to leathers tonight, with a nod to her mother’s legacy. The skull fracture had required shaving part of her head, so she had done what she could with it, shaving one side. She looked like some kind of 80’s punk rocker anyway, so she went ahead and died the rest purple.
Dick liked to start a night on patrol on the rooftops, but Dinah preferred the street. Listening at a bar, scanning police frequencies. Two mid level enforcers who had done some work for Nigma were discussing a plan to break him out. She listened, and then followed one of them home to his classy high rise apartment. She kicked him through a glass door onto the balcony before she even bothered to ask him about the plan. The leg felt fine. The collarbone was a little twingy. Someone had smuggled ol’ Ed a burst transmitter and receiver, allowing him to communicate with the outside. She would pass that on to officials at the prison in the morning.
Time: 12:47 am
Location: Somewhere over Texas
"Approaching Target," Tech Head's AI states as his drop ship slows it's descent.
Grayson's details were bare, not unusual given the circumstances. He prefers to share the plans when necessary, as a safety precaution if things were to ever turn sour. "Three Days." The words seem to echo. Whatever it is, it's serious. Whenever Grayson calls, it usually is. "Texan skies, west of San Antonio. It's a pick-up, needed intact."
"Target Acquired"
A metal attache case within the drop ship clicks itself open, revealing four black baraclava-style masks each with a large red "X" across the face. The masks feel flesh-like, no doubt made of a Pseudoderm composite.
Red X Mask (Device 2) (Hard to lose)
. . Immunity 2 (suffocation (all))
. . Morph 6 (morph: single appearance, +30 Disguise)
. . Super-Senses 2 (darkvision)
The Red X masks more or less give you all a uniform appearance, insuring that no one sticks out more than the other. Your outfits are all blacked out save for the X, and your voices are monotone and lifeless.
As the dropship clears it's cloud cover, the outline of a massive Airbus can be seen below along with what appear to be two fighter jets.
If The Duke was still around, this would be the moment where he'd cock his devil-may-care smile and let out a "Let's Ride!". A bittersweet moment, indeed.
The last 8 hours have been a blur. You were knocked out with a pulse that would kill most men, but luckily it merely incapacitated you. In your daze, you've caught a few tidbits. S.T.A.R. Labs, Techno-Biological Virus, failing nanobots. ARGUS wasn't stupid. They juiced up their inhibitors so much so that you question whether they're trying to save you or kill you. When you come-to again, you find yourself encased and restrained in a chamber of glass and metal within what appears to be a cargo hold of some sort. The whir of airplane turbines drown out most of the surrounding sounds. With the nanites failing within you, even breathing is difficult. In seconds, your world goes black once again.
The Red X is a multi-national terrorist organization attempting to "even the playing field" between humans and metahumans by any means necessary.
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The G0LEM, wearing his normal illusion of a handsome East German body builder, tramps up to the masks. Upon seeing them he checks his Communication Device: Exterior (L-Phone) for references.
It doesn't take long to get a hit.
"Yes!" He exclaims, his manly German accent reverberating through the ship. "The Red X are a good training scenario! We may meet 'dem one day in open combat! Learn well what you see today, my brothers! It may save your life! An' do not mind 'ze heat so much. It helps build a good sweat!"
He applies the mask, and it spends a moment interfacing with his illusion. The bulky robot underneath becomes visible for a moment before being replaced by a handsome man wearing a red mask.
"Put on the mask, tiny, and don't be such a princess."
Dinah slides the mask over her head. The material is pretty much the same as her domino mask, but she doesn't enjoy having material around her mouth.
"Golem and Iota, take the fighter escorts out, obviously making sure the pilots get out clean.
Since I'm the one who can't fly here, I'll get inside the plane. Tech-Head, can you get us over the Airbus and drop me onto it? We can blow the door, or hack the door if possible. Once inside, I'll take out the resistance and toss the 'target' into the wind. By that time you'll be ready to catch him, or one of the boys can assist if necessary.
"I expect some extra support might show up, so be ready to cover me.'
Gravewound, a little loopy, wonders how someone can look handsome with a full mask on.
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Golem bangs his fists together, making anomalous metallic clanking sounds. "Yes! Landing on airplane and taking out pilot. V'ry good strategy, Knightingale! He will not expect dat. V'ry good. That will only take moment, then I will join you on Airbus."
Golem gathers himself near the jump door, ready for the word.
initiative via phone.
Knightingale latches a line to her suit and takes a few deep breaths. This wouldn't be the first time she had thrown up in a mask, but she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of her friends. She connects the line to her grapple gun and thinks about how easy it would be to get a nice desk job with the GCPD.
Initiative
Iota 20
Golem 16
Gravewound 15
Jet Fighter 1
Jet Fighter 2
Knightingale 12
Tech-Head 7
Tech-Head grunts a "Y'got it" at Knightingale while he fidgits with a contraption. "Y'heard her. When she gives the word, bring her down gently, but keep the cloak up."
Barely visible against the night sky, the minuscule Iota leaps out of the dropship down towards the jet fighter flanking the airbus's starboard side completely unseen.
Gravewound comes around again. He counts 8 guards in front of him, possibly more behind... A faint flicker goes through the aircraft. None of the guards seem to notice, but a separate hum can be heard alongside the sound of the aircraft. Even in his weakened state, Gravewound can sense that someone's giving him a hand.
Gravewound comes to again, and perks up as best someone who has been made deathly ill can.
He tries to pass it off as simply rolling his head in his sleep, and begins feeling around.
I can sense, can I touch?
He strains against the suppressor and tries to see if he can get inside any of the machines around.
Gravewound:
As you begin to reach out, Radio chatter explodes through the aircraft, though again, no one seems to react.
You continue to feel out, tiptoeing on different systems in place.
I think someone's trying to bring this plane down. That wouldn't be fun with my nanites offline.
Then again, no other way out of here. This pod is some ridiculous tech.
Gravewound decides to flip the coin, and tries to disable a plane's controls.
May as well speed this up, go for the undamaged one.
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Golem takes two huge bounding steps and leaps from the plane. He gets his bearings on the other fighterjet and, unheeding of his own safety, -rockets- down, crashing through the transparent cover of the cockpit. He takes a moment to grin at the no-doubt surprised pilot. "Haha! You do not expect this, eh? You learn from dis. We talk over coffee tomorrow. Have good ride down."
Golem clutches the handle activating the pilot's ejector seat and gives it a good yank, motivating it to its purpose.
He may get a face full fuselage, but such can hardly be avoided.
Golem's form catapult's from the drop ship and onto StarFlank's transparent canopy. He bashes his fist through the canopy's polycarbonate...
...and rips it off of it's hinge. The training robot gives the pilot some encouraging words, which probably scared him all the same.
Knightingale and Tech-Head are up.
Knightingale watches as her companions dive from the drop ship, takes a deep breath. She fires her grapple gun at the Airbus. Once attached, she reels herself in toward the door.
Her fingers grab the rim of the door. Wow, this sounded like a better idea a few minutes ago.
[ooc]Monkey climber lets me use acrobatics for climb checks, taking 10 on climb with skill mastery gives me a 28 climb. I'm hoping that this DC should be 20 or 25, with some penalty for, you know, the plane is moving. If I can do more this round, she will try to Disable Device with a check of 25 (skill mastery, 15 ranks) to open the door. If it is not possible to "pick the lock" from the outside, she will use her variable power strike to set a charge against the door and blow it. With power attack that is
DC 28 Toughness save for the door.
Against the high speed winds, Knightingale manages to grapple her way from drop ship to Airbus. 60 meters away from her, she notices the port-side fighter jet begin to stall.
Gravewound locks the plane's controls, sending it spiraling towards the ground. If it's at all computerized/electronic, that includes the ejector seat.
Despite trying to play asleep, Lance can't help but smirk a little.
You manage to inflict more structural damage to the aircraft's wing. Emergency alarms sound off, triggering the pilot's ejector seat.
You reach down and activate the ejector seat... And nothing. The pilot's fear turns to panic as he realizes his attempts at steering the vehicle are not translating.. His screams for mercy are muffled under the high winds. The aircraft tilts downwards and begins to fall into a spiral as its console powers off.
Within the Airbus, the guards are at attention. Starboard, they see a jet's wing slowly rip itself free, while their port side escort is throttling towards the ground.
As they scurry about, one soldier notices the smirk on your face and begins to draw his sound cannon when...
The cabin door swings wide open, de-pressurizing the cabin and sending the guards into chaos.
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Golem looks about in mild confusion as his violence to the cockpit has made the ejector seat fail along with the rest of the controls. "Ach. Dese planes, dey do not make dem so strong no more. Ah well, live and learn, eh?"
He pats the pilot good-naturedly on his helmet and rockets off to where he saw Knightingale (he calls her 'Knight' for short) latching on to the airbus. He circles up to where she's breaching the door and maintains position for a moment, gauging the depths of the chaos therein.
Ethan Hunt eat your heart out.
Knightingale swings through the door into the atmospheric chaos of the plane, landing in a stylish Black Widow style crouch. She leaves the door open as a potential escape. Tapping her temple, she switches he electronically enhanced perception over to sonar in case the moisture in the cabin decides to go all cloudlike (sometimes happens with explosive decompression).
Pieces of the fuselage creak under the roar of the de pressurizing cabin. Once inside the massive Airbus, Knightingale can see many guards struggle to keep themselves upright. At the center sits a pod, about 5 feet wide by 5 feet long, made of metal and some sort of glass. Inside is a person strapped in a seat.
Judging that the decompression is not the best situation for thrown weapons, X-Girl (I guess) throws herself into melee with the guards. Up close and personal seems like a good idea when the guards are sporting sonic weapons.
She launches the grapple at the firmly fixed containment pod, using it to stabilize herself as she becomes a blur of fists, elbows, and kicks.
She manages to drop 8 of the 11 guards before one gets the drop on her. As she kicks one guard into the bulkhead between the cabin and the cockpit, another gets himself into position behind her, his rifle pointed at the back of her head.
"Stop right there," comes the voice from the helmet.
She keys her comm with a lingual switch, "Hey boys, I could use a little help in here if you are done playing with your toys out there."
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Golem waits a few ticks, staying out of Knightingale's kill-zone. He knows that she prefers to work alone when using the Raging Storm technique, and doesn't want to get in the way of her practice.
One a few of the Op-For withstand her initial onslaught and one manages to catch her in a compromising position, Golem decides to give the team a trainer's nudge to keep the scenario moving.
With a burst he flies in and knocks away the rifle pointed at Queen. "Good, good technique all around! Knightingale, that was good, but you telegraph third wheel-kick too much, he almost dodge it!"
Golem turns to the guard whose weapon he just batted aside. "And you. You must never hesitate! Against an opponent of greater caliber if you are going to shoot, den shoot! Do no talk."
"I'll shoot you!" the guard spits back, raising his rifle and firing point blank at Golem.
The robots chuckles. "Yes! Good! Like dat! Now how is your close quarters?" Golem throws a basic hand attack at the guard who, flabbergasted that his rounds had no effect, fails to dodge and takes the full blow. The bioshock kicks in and the guard spams twice, wets his pants, and drops unconscious.
One of the two remaining guards grabs his rifle barrel with both hands and swings the butt at Golem's head, thinking that if bullets don't affect it, a close attack might.
The attack strikes the robot's head with a resounding crash, and Golem turns. "Yes! Good! Again, again!" he roars, his form looking slightly larger than it had been. "Hit again, but mean it dis time! Wait. One moment."
Golem gets his own comm switch. "Der are only two guards left. Does anyone need CQC practice, or can I passify so we can capture flag and go home?"