[IC] Villains Inc.

[Limos]

TEATIME ANARCHIST STRIKES AGAIN: SENATOR KELLY AND SIX OTHERS SLAIN IN OVERPASS BOMBING

Merely hours after the bombing of the I-80/294 Tri State Tollway overpass claimed the lives of sixty three motorists, as well as Illinois state senator John Kelly and his bodyguards, another manifesto by the elusive and mysterious Teatime Anarchist was mailed to police claiming responsibility for the disaster.


I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE AND IT IS US
THE SHACKLES OF THE BOURGEOISIE MUST BE CAST OFF
THE POSTHUMAN WILL RISE TO CLAIM HIS BIRTHRIGHT
SENATOR KELLY STOOD IN THE WAY OF MANKIND'S EVOLUTION AND HAS BEEN REMOVED
THE TRANSITION NEED NOT BE PAINFUL, RISE UP AND STRIKE DOWN THE TYRANTS THAT WOULD DENY YOU YOUR SUPREMACY


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A man in a very expensive suit, sitting in a very expensive leather chair sets down the newspaper and rubs his eyes pensively. This was the third and most incendiary attack by the Anarchist since his campaign of terror began. The first seemed harmless enough, dropping a load of dead halibut into congress mid session could be taken as a playful prank. The second left a Fortune 500 CEO as so much ash scattered around his penthouse apartment after a scorpion missile blasted in through his window. The overpass bombing was the most outrageous yet. The body count and the insanity of his many manifestos has only increased.

But that would have to wait, leads on the Anarchist are scarce, the man's a ghost for all anyone can track him down. Paper trails that lead back to dead drops in the 1930's, money running through a dozen shell corporations that seem to gather funds off patents for electaser pistols and titanium power cuffs, technology that came out of the blue three years back using technology that has stumped reverse engineers so far.

The well dressed man pushes a button on his intercom and speaks in a cultured voice with a very slight italian accent. "Miss Brant, send Penderton in." The pleasant female voice on the other side of the intercom says something unimportant followed shortly by the sound of the office door opening and a small mousey man in a cheap suit walking in.

"Mr. Penderton, thank you for joining me. You saw the paper today?"

"Of course Don. Terrible news, just terrible." Penderton wrings his hands, and pulls out a thick stack of dossiers. "These are the files on the new hires."

The Don takes the files but doesn't look at them, he already knows the contents. He produces a dossier of his own from a drawer in the expensive mahogany desk. "The Anarchist will get his eventually, get your pet project ready Penderton. I've got a job for them." Penderton takes the file gingerly and skims through the contents. He gulps nervously.

"Of course sir, I'll get them right on it."

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Three Hours Later

The Legion of Doom is a dive. A trashy supervillain rap night club in the Fuller Park neighborhood. The space is small, and crowded with wannabe minions and metal heads. Supervillain rap has a lot in common with Death Metal, in the clientele, style, and general level of awfulness. It attracts a lot of the same fanbase, only with more lasers and mutant sharks. The walls are coated with posters, the older Metal, grunge and punk bands layered over with newer Supervillain groups such as Freakzone, The Sinister Seven and Riders of Apokolips.

A nondescript door near the back of the club is guarded by a large man in a black Armani suit and sunglasses, despite the dim lighting of the club. Each of you was contacted by your Outfit handler and told to meet at the club at 9:00 PM. which would be just about now. The guard lowers his sunglasses as you approach, revealing the two inscrutable black pits of his eyes. No matter the disguise you may be wearing he waves you, and only you, through to the basement meeting house.

The meeting room is considerably higher class than the upper club and several Outfit goons hurriedly make their exit at the behest of a small mousy man you may remember from your interviews. Mr. Penderton waits patiently for all of the team to arrive before beginning the meeting.

Feel free to post what you were doing before being called, how you came to the club, your current appearances, etc. Just make your attendance known and once everyone in onboard we can begin.

[Ivellius]

The young woman eyed the envelope suspiciously. Even if the apartment was a dive, she was supposed to have a mailbox at the front. Wasn't she? But there it was, lying on the tattered mattress with her name in neat script. She opened it, and her suspicions were confirmed. The Outfit wanted her after all.

The note was brief, only a time and a place. She thought she knew of the club; some of the people at the bars had been talking it up as a place for villains to hang out. She set fire to the envelope with her light before wadding the letter into her sweatshirt's pocket. It sat uncomfortably. They could've just stuck it on a Post-it, she thought to herself. The Outfit probably wouldn't like her keeping it, but it made her feel safer somehow.

At 8:45 she arrived at the club. Inside, the music was pretty awful. Definitely not her thing. Putting her hands in her pockets, she felt the crumpled note and wished for some George Strait. The door at the back was guarded, and she felt sure the meeting would be behind there. She pulled the shadows a little closer and made her way to a corner, keeping an eye on the door and waiting for someone else to make their way through. She couldn't be the first to arrive. All eyes would be on her inside.

[Sophistemon]

The alarm went off at nine o'clock in the morning, but Jason slapped the 'snooze' button until it gave up and then continued sleeping until it was a quarter past noon. When he finally did wake up he slid out of his bed with a grunt, not particularly caring if he woke Candy. The woman stirred fitfully as he trod, grumbling obscenities, towards the bathroom. The woman's real name was Helen; she only called herself 'Candy' because she thought it made her sexier, along with her bubblegum hair and licorice lipstick. She'd first met Jason the night before, at a bar called the The Dotted Eye. He wasn't a particularly attractive man, almost homely despite his fitness, but he emitted an exceptionally intense sort of animal magnetism that had her almost immediately captivated. Everyone else at the bar seemed to know him, and the bartender even gave him free drinks. When he'd singled her out for conversation, she knew she'd hit the jackpot. He'd talked to her at length, primarily about himself, and rarely let her get a word in edgewise, but for some reason she didn't find that rude, or even very out of place. When he finally offered to taker her back to his penthouse, she'd eagerly accepted.

The penthouse would have cost anyone else around $5,000 dollars a month, but not Jason James. He was able to rent the place for a fraction of its value. Not for nothing, of course, that would be far too conspicuous, but at the truly staggering kind of discount that one only receives after becoming one of the closest, most personal friends of the building's owner. Jason lived lavishly, and his bathroom was no exception: it was all polished chrome, glistening black marble, and steam-resistant glass. He showered for thirty minutes, brushed his teeth, and toweled himself off before heading back out in the nude, leaving his towel on the bathroom floor for the cleaning woman to dispose of. On his way into the kitchen, he noticed that someone had slid envelope underneath his door, and he made a beeline for it. After reading the letter it contained, he returned to his bedroom and shook Candy awake. She smiled when she saw his nakedness, getting the wrong idea. He shook his head. "You have to leave," he said, and her smile quickly faded.

"Will I ever see you again?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Sure," he stated. "I'll call you."

It wasn't until she was safely back in her own apartment that she remembered that they'd never exchanged their numbers.


~~~~~~~~~~

Jason's taxi pulled up to The Legion of Doom at around 8:50. The ride was on the house, since he'd become pretty good friends with the cabby on the trip. He thanked the man and looked up at the building. The green lenses of his decorative sunglasses reflected the garish neon lighting that burned along the club's exterior, staining them a flame-bright orange. The fact that the bouncer recognized him out of costume was slightly disconcerting, but he supposed that it made sense: the Outfit knew who he was, of course, and they must have told the bouncer to look for someone of his description, both in and out of costume. It was a show of their power over him; "We know who you are", it meant. The thought made him angry, furious, but he suppressed it and went inside. He'd be running the show soon enough; it was only for now that he'd have to play along. He liked the music that played in the club, but that wasn't surprising, as Jason liked all music. Or, rather, he liked the sound of music, or sound in general. From classical to smooth jazz to the discordant chords and harsh, screaming lyrics of modern metal, Jason had no preferences so long as there was noise to listen to. Even the average, non-musical hustle and bustle of the city was soothing to his ears. He failed to notice the woman in the shadows.

After running a hand through his hair and straightening his tie, he made his way inside.

[Lost Demiurge]

A few blocks away from the Legion of Doom, an alleyway sits, darkened and empty.

A faint hum fills the air, and there's a slight SNAP, like a circuit being connected.

One minute later, a brown-haired, plain woman in simple slacks and dress shirt emerges from the alleyway, looks around, nods at her image in the shop window across the street, then proceeds down the block.

The muggers two blocks later give her ample warning. She doesn't see fit to break stride. One backs away, uneasily, unnerved by her total lack of concern.

The other one tries to grab her.

No, not worth breaking stride at all. His smoking, twitching form hits the ground, and his friend bolts.

The downed mugger will live. In about a day he'll probably even be able to control his bladder again.

At 8:59:01, she arrives at the back door of the Legion of Doom. The guard starts to lower his sunglasses, pauses, then smiles and waves her through. He recieves a brief nod in return. She is known. It is well enough.

At precisely 8:59:59 she sits at the table in the meeting room, examines the others already seated there, and interlaces her fingers. Looking back to the mousy man, her form shimmers, flickers, and sparkles as it dissolves.

The whitened face of a muse in porcelain peers out from behind a red hood. Steel and ceramic interlaced are visible, under the red velvet cloak that covers the suddenly taller and bulkier form.

Bereft of her disguise, Doctor Dire waits, gauntlets on the table, and mask concealing any emotion.

"PENDERTON." The voice is modulated, booming yet feminine, familiar from several radio, television, and internet appearances. (Mostly to deliver ultimatums.)

[BlackestOfMages]

Kyle intercepted the alarm a few seconds before it went off, rising out of his small cramped bed in the small cramped apartment. It served it's purpose, keeping him in obscurity, though one eventually tires of utiility. Alas, it did not take his gift to tell that this is where one would remain unless his job prospects... perfect.
He opened the front door to the mailman before he could knock, taking the letters from the confused mail man. Dropping the first two without so much as a glance, Kyle opened the important one, taking in the important details whilst the wheels of the revolution began to turn.

Wasting the day away had been torturously painful - he'd only been able to experiment with the D list chaff that felt themselves part of the police force, rather than a real subject - but as the time drew close, the Farseer stepped into the Legion of doom. 8:30 PM, it always pays to be early, even for the architect of the future. Taking in the general ambience of the dive, Kyle had to breath a sigh for the irony; the real buisness of the supervillain world took place in this gauche, plastic dive, whilst nothing but small talk and petty-minded thuggery took place in the high class bars. That would, hopefully, change.
Walking past patrons in costumes so obviously cobbled together from either a blind rummage through either a fetish store or that must have been more of a crime against the world than the wearers entire career, he headed for the back of the club.
He dosen't look at the guard - nineteen times the man simply opens the door, the others he nods, but none of these eventualities are of any importance - Kyle takes his place at the table.
"Greetings, Mr Penderton. As I promised you before, we meet again."

[Ivellius]

She saw the man in the suit enter first. Typical. She almost followed him but hated to be even the second to enter. No matter, she still had a little time. Maybe after the next, she thought, moving to the bar.

She'd ordered her first drink and was busy trying to recover her dark corner when one of the patrons intercepted her. The woman was not in the mood; it was all she could do to keep from giving him a taste of the pain she knew she could inflict. As she muttered something she hoped sounded like a refusal, movement caught her eye. Someone else had entered the door; she couldn't tell whom. Well, there was her chance. She threw a quick snare at the guy's feet, hoping no one would notice in the dark club, and hurried to the door. The guard waving her through comforted her. She felt better inside.

It was nice down there. She wasn't sure she'd ever been in a place quite so fancy, and she took an empty seat at the table. Mr. Penderton was there, of course. She remembered him; he'd been the one to approach her, after all, telling her he knew of a place for her. For others like her.

No one's like me, she thought. They don't realize what's going on like I do.

He amused her a bit, this man and his plans. What did it really matter when the whole world was going to hell soon? She could tell he didn't seem to believe her when she talked about her curse, how demons were really loose on this earth and all the things happening were just proof that the end was near.

"And it shall come to pass in the latter days, says the Lord, that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh..." she said quietly.

[Buwh]

It was a promising new day for the leader of one of the most illustrious gangs in the area. You wouldn't see any uptown cape wetting himself over The Hoodies, but plenty of people knew what it meant when a purple and gold car hydraulically bounced down the street. Hell, they were all practically wearing Hoodiez brand clothes anyway. Cynthia Temple tended not to murder people who wore her label.

The Hoodies spread throughout The Legion of Doom, one of the gangs typical hangouts, to party up and enjoy the ambiance. Currently, Cynthia Temple is dancing with a mutated shark man wearing combat boots, a cute purple top, and, oh yeah, strapped to the gills with weapons. "I love this song!" She shouts over the constant barrage of death metal. Not long after she is interrupted by a minion of the Outfit.

"The f*** you say?" She shot before the guy could have a chance to explain himself. "They're meeting here? Great.. great. It's about time The Outfit responded to me. Thanks." Cynthia waved him off before bidding adieu to her dance partner and heading for the back room, nodding to the bouncer on the way by and made her way inside.

[DuReign]

Mishap was late; how could she be late?? This was probably the most important meeting of the rest of her life; hell, it would probably dictate whether or not she had a life anymore. There had been too many close calls with the capes recently, all trying to bring her in; too many near escapes and too much collateral damage.

So when she got the mysterious message from the Outfit, she had been thrilled - she needed their protection, their resources, and more importantly she needed their respect, she needed to be useful to them. So useful and feared that she could disappear into the criminal web of the Outfit.

But now she was late! What had she been doing the last few hours? Right... redesigning her villainous costume, transmuting the garment over and over in front of a mirror until she was satisfied it had the right balance of elegance, sex appeal, foreboding, and trappings of power.

Now she hurried through the crowds at the Legion of Doom, ignoring all the aggressive guys trying to get close to her. She twitched a pinkie as one black leather and chain sporting gangbanger got close; he slipped sideways on a puddle of spilled whisky and brained himself on stool someone had just pushed out. Out of the corner of her eye, a leering man dressed like a psycho clown reached out a hand to grab her wrist. Mishap flared her nostrils; the big bruiser of a man next to the clown suddenly realized his wallet had been stolen, and whirling around lifted the clown bodily into the air by the lapels.

"Frackin' thief!" was all Mishap heard as she slipped towards the back room. She was rushed, out of breath, and smoothed out her outfit and tried to still her beating heart as the guard in the Armani suit watched her, amused, behind black shades. Should she apologize for being late? Should she say anything? How could you be late for this??

Taking a breath, Mishap tried to put on her most "I don't give a frack" look and pushed her way inside the meeting-place.

[Limos]

"Right on time, Ms. Reynolds." Penderton says quietly as Mishap enters the room, the last to arrive. "You arrive, as always, just at the right moment." Merely ten seconds before Dire had entered the room and sat down, the others are in place having arrived a small bit in advance.

He turns to each villain in turn and nods his greetings. "I'm glad you all accepted my invitation, we have much to accomplish. I'll leave you to make your own introductions later, first to business." Penderton pulls a manilla envelope out from his case under the table and starts rifling through the contents.

"One of our... contractors, was intelligence gathering in the Dome. He goes by Dopple, a shapeshifter out of Germany, and he's done good work for us." He produces a small folder with some papers, no pictures of course, Dopple has no fixed appearance. "Unfortunately while he was inside a cape out of New Orleans, Artemis, arrived in town unexpectedly. They've crossed paths before and her scent tracking powers have allowed her to detect him in disguise before. He's holed up in a maintenance closet, but if he moves while she's in the Dome she'll nail him to the floor."

The Dome is common knowledge in Chicago, the base of operations and combination lab, museum and temporary prison run by the Chicago Sentinels. The massive concrete dome is only the tip of a much larger underground facility.

"As part of the new Villain's inc you will be handling a large range of different problems based on your specific talents. Right now we need you to get the Sentinels out of the Dome, and keep them occupied long enough for Dopple to escape the Dome undetected with the intel. We don't throw away assets lightly, and in the same way we don't want you revealing yourselves so early in the game."

Penderton produces a few glossy photos which most of you recognize as the Supervillain rapper Freakzone. "There is a Freakzone concert tomorrow night, we think it's your best shot at drawing out the sentinels, there is already a large police presence as these events have a tendency to boil over into riots already, but we need something bigger."

"Your goals are three fold.

One, break the police cordon and distract the authorities.
Two, incite the biggest nastiest riot you can and get it to boil over into the streets.
Three, interfere in Sentinel operations to break up the rioters without being discovered.

The Sanguinary Boys and the Brotherhood, the two largest rival supervillain gangs will both have contingents at the concert, if you can pin the riot on them and get some of them sent to the Box that is just a bonus. We'll leave methods and execution to you. Any questions?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Doctor Dire takes the folders, and scans them with a small optical tracer, built into the thumb of her gauntlet. Safely loaded to her thumbdrive, she puts the originals back on the table for all to peruse.

"SUBTLETY, A TIME LIMIT, AND THREE PHASES. GOOD, THE COMPLEXITY OF THIS UNDERTAKING IS ACCEPTABLE, AND WILL PROVIDE ADEQUATE DIVERSION FOR DIRE'S TALENTS."

"THREE QUESTIONS COME TO MIND IMMEDIATELY. PRIMUS: THE LOCATION OF THE FREAKSHOW CONCERT. SECONDUS: THESE FOLDERS... DO THEY REPRESENT ALL THE INFORMATION YOU HAVE GATHERED REGARDING THE DOME? TERTIUS: WHAT MEANS OF COMMUNICATION DO YOU HAVE WITH YOUR AGENT, THE DUPLICITOUS DOPPLE?"


Mistah GM...

Knowledge heroes and villain checks!

Sentinels[roll0]
Freakzone[roll1]
Dopple[roll2]

[Sophistemon]

Vox

Vox receives the folders after Doctor Dire finishes scanning them into her battlesuit's internal computer and leafs through them himself, reading quickly. He could see almost immediately where he'd be useful, but it would require subtlety on his part to get away with without the others catching on. "Got it," he says. "Get in, cause a distraction and then a riot, and then keep it going. Sounds simple enough." He quirks his head at Dire once she finishes her interrogation. "That'd be good to know, too. Good questions, Doc."

He had heard of Doctor Dire. He'd even seen her in action, once or twice, as a civilian. It might be fun to work with what amounted to a superstar in the supervillain community, and if he could get into her good graces he'd be able to ride her coattails all the way to bigger and better things. Unfortunately, riding coattails requires sucking up, which he hated with every fiber of his being. He should be the one giving the orders! But if someone like Dire started to kowtow to a no-name C-lister like Vox, people would catch on and that'd be the end of the game, player 1, and he'd be out of quarters.

In fact, it'd probably be best if he didn't meddle with their minds at all. He was only capable of influencing how people feel, not what they think, and even that took a pretty huge amount of effort. It was like painting in broad strokes, in that he could make someone feel someone, and that would affect how they think, but his control over the effect was limited and he wasn't capable of finesse or detail. So that settled that. Keeping it secret kept him safe, which was the most important thing of all, right?

[Limos]

Dire
The Sentinels
Current Lineup

Atlas - Class-S, Only remaining founding member. Flight, Strength, Durability, Super senses
Ajax - Scientist, Class-A Bruiser, Strength, Durability
Harlequin - Former Cirque du Solei performer, made of rubber, Durability, Flexibility, Kinetic Redirection
Rush - Class-A Speedster
Blackstone - Stage Magic, Illusions, Teleportation, Transmutation
Chakra - Ritual Magic, Buffs and Debuffs, Mental Projection
Nimbus - Class-A Energy Form, Permanent Light based transformation, Energy projection



Freakzone
Very popular Supervillain rapper with minor shapechanging powers. Exhibits the ability to take on partial animal traits such as fangs, horns, claws, fur, etc. Cannot fully transform. Minor regeneration ability. Can't sing worth a damn. His drummer is a superhuman called Blackout who can project clouds of darkness, used mostly for stage effects.

Dopple
Birth name unknown
Age unknown
Ethnicity unknown, presumed German
Operates out of Berlin, wanted for war crimes following his involvement in Caliphate war as a spy. Escaped from The Box two years ago when Seif-al-Din led troops from The Ring on a raid to free imprisoned jihadists.

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"Freakzone is playing at the Marcus Amphitheater, it's an outdoor stadium and already sold out to standing room on the lawns." Penderton indicates the location on a map of the city. "There are two main exit points, one through the parking garage, and another leading towards the park. The police cordon will be heaviest on the garage exit. In the even of a Riot they will try to steer the crowd towards the park where they won't do as much damage."

"Those folders are all the information you will need to do your job." Flipping through the pages you will find a brief description of the various Sentinels capabilities and general behavior in similar situations as well as police response times and equipment. There is a smaller list of known Brotherhood and Sanguinary superhumans that are in town and their capabilities. In addition there is a map of the stadium layout as well as a map of the utility and power lines, just in case. "Dopple is impersonating a member of the Dome's staff, and as such was able to contact a handler over the phone lines. There are prearranged code phrases and covers in place, even if they were listening in all they heard is Willis telling his mother that he might be coming down with a cold. We have a man watching for Artemis to leave the Dome with the rest of the Capes. Even if she doesn't a team is in place to get Dopple out of there as long as you can keep the heavy hitters occupied with the riot."

[Buwh]

"Ha, all you want us to do is face down the Sentinels?" Cynthia laughed, receiving the files from Vox at the same time. She wished they had allowed some of her Hoodiez in here, but she never felt uncomfortable or unconfident since she'd had a breakthrough. "Sounds like a cakewalk. Man, this'll be just like the last time I was at a Freakshow concert- not my idea, this new girl Tammy.. nice girl, unfortunately dead now though- and things got a little rambunctious." The Queen of Hoodies waved a hand dismissively as she scanned down the files handed to her.

"Well anyway," She says once she looks back up from them, "The Mosh Pit got a little out of hand and I think somebody took a shot at Freakshow, which he's still talking about. Nine times my bodacious booty, five tops. Luckily, they just sent in the S.W.A.T. Team, no big deal, and that's the story of how I got a genuine Riot Shield."

[Ivellius]

The young woman watched her new...comrades, she had to say. She wasn't sure if she'd get used to saying that about them. Dire kind of scared her, she had to admit, but if she was going to be working with other villains you couldn't get much better. That hoodie girl, meh. She seemed like a namedropper.

No one else had asked her question, so she spoke, though quietly."Could we get into the concert even though it's sold out? Seems like that'd be the best way to get the riot going. And we should probably figure out a way to keep them out of the park," she added. "Actually, what is it you people do? I'm a little...in the dark about everything." She smiled a little as she surrounded herself in shadows. Showing off couldn't hurt. She could still the others easily enough, and they might not be able to read her facial expressions. Yes, sometimes the darkness could be comforting after all.

[BlackestOfMages]

"Myself, I am the guide of the future, the architect of fate, he who walks the path of tommorow." Farseer announced, putting as much volume into the words as possible, before calling the information folder towards him with a flick of the wrist, and watching it float towards him. "My talents also extend to that of the mind. I am capable of touching the untouchable, of shifting and re-aranging the world that I can percieve with but a thought. I hope this little demonstration has enlightened you somewhat, my lady."
Sitting back in his chair, Kyle took in the people around him, examining who he would be working with. Lady Dire was, of course, know all around the world, and her precence would certainly lend him the populrity he needed for his campaign after they parted. None of the other three really jumped out at him from news reports and case files, but he wracked his brain to examine them anyway


gather info checks (thanks to well informed) for:
Vox [roll0]
The nameless dread [roll1]
temple [roll2]
dire [roll3]
Penderton [roll4]
just so he could pretend to know their powers hen they're revealed :smallbiggrin:

[Limos]

Farseer
You gain knowledge of all of their powers except for Nameless Dread who remains an enigma.

Penderton is the most normal average person you have ever met, perfectly mundane in every aspect of character and physiology. Totally normal.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOORMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL

[Lost Demiurge]

Dire nods toward the woman in shadows. "A RELEVANT INQUIRY. YOU WILL BE WORKING WITH DOCTOR DIRE FOR THE DURATION OF THIS DASTARDLY DUTY. DIRE CAN PROVIDE A CENTRALIZED BASE OF OPERATIONS, TECHNICAL SUPPORT, BATTLEFIELD DUTIES IF NECESSARY, AND VARIOUS AND SUNDRY DEVICES THAT SHOULD MAKE THIS TASK SOMEWHAT EASIER."

She shifts her masks's gaze to Farseer. "AH, MENTAL INFLUENCE. GOOD. USEFUL FOR A TASK REQUIRING SUBTLETY. SUCH AS THIS. TELEKINESIS AS WELL... A QUERY: HAVE YOU ENCOUNTERED YOUR UPPER LIMIT, AS OF YET?"

[Sophistemon]

Vox

Okay, ver-r-r-y interesting. So far we've got Doctor Dire, a Verne who wears one hell of a battlesuit (even to a meeting, for Christ's sake!), with an IQ high enough to make Einstein weak in the knees. She's also the most infamous of those assembled, and definitely the 'leadership' type. Next there's what's-her-name, who can at the very least darken areas around her. Her abilities probably stretch further than that, though, by a substantial amount. Following that is Farseer, the -*snort*- 'Architect of Fate.' He's probably got a superiority complex, muses Vox. Man, I hate guys like that. Think they run the freakin' world or something. He stops for a moment, considering. If you're a mind-reader, too, stay the hell out of my head. Anyway, he'd better introduce himself, too, or else be left behind. And Vox is never left behind. "My name's Vox," he says, "And I can control sonic energy with my voice." He looks up at one of the security monitors, smiles, and says "Break." The screen erupts into a spiderweb fracture that, while destroying it, doesn't actually rain glass down on them, which might have irritated Dire, which might have resulted in Vox being reduced to a bloody smear on the wall. "I'm pretty precise, and pretty versatile." He looks into the shielded eyes of Dire's pseudo-porcelain mask. "Doctor," he continues, "It's an honor to be working with you."

[Lost Demiurge]

Dire's mask tilts a bit, to acknowledge Vox. "SONIC CONTROL. GOOD. AND RELATIVELY SUBTLE IN A NOISY AREA SUCH AS A FREAKSHOW CONCERT... YES, THIS SHALL BE QUITE USEFUL. A PLEASANT DEMEANOR AS WELL AS A WAY WITH VOCABULARY, TOO. GOOD. WE CAN USE THAT."

At his compliments, she nods. "YOUR COMPLIMENT IS NOTED, THOUGH NOT REQUIRED. YOU ARE PARTNERS IN THIS, NOT HENCHMEN. AN OPERATION OF THIS MAGNITUDE WOULD BE DIFFICULT TO ACCOMPLISH ALONE GIVEN THE TIMEFRAME AND PARAMETERS."

She looks over to the two remaining. "YOUR CHOSEN NAMES AND CAPABILITIES?"

[BlackestOfMages]

"Of course, my lady, for one must know one's own limits to push them. I can, through the power of my mind, manipulate matter to the maximum margain of twenty four tones." As a demonstration, he slowly raised his hands and with them came the chairs of the other villains in the room, before he placed each chair in the opposite location to it's previous position. "Alas, I must admit my mastery of mental manipulation is minorly misplaced, limited to a simple carress on the mind and a gilded tongue. Though one not near as gilded as that of Sir Vox."

[Buwh]

Cynthia Temple leans up from her chair to join the rest of the group in conversation, directing her first comments to Dr. Dire. "I wanted to get the formalities out of the way, but it's taken a lot not to give you a hug." She said with a laugh, "I'm Cynthia Temple, leader of the Hoodiez, and you're one of my personal heroes. It's just going to be a privilege to be able to watch you work up close and personal. I've followed your career from the Reverse Ray all the way to the time you took the cities languages ransom. What was that.. last year? Did the city ever bow to your demands?" She continued to gush over the super villain icon while lowering her the hood of her purple Hoodie, partially revealing a pin with a stylized Dr. Dire's face and the year of the next election- probably made by a company who didn't get the rights to her likeness first. "One of the boys in my crew used to be a freelance minion when he first tried the villain scene, and I think he was with you when you went after that wonderflonium. He's always talking about being one of the five people that got out of there alive after you blocked that cape's eyeblast, blah blah. Do not bounce, right?" The Queen of Hoodies chuckled a little inappropriately, but suppressed herself.

"Ah, anyway, as well as the support of my loyal gang I'm also pretty much invincible." Cynthia continued after finishing her little chat with Dr. Dire. "I'd pull out a gun and shoot myself to demonstrate but I'd likely get tackled by fifty Outfit Goons. Maybe later. It's a cute party trick." She shook her head, "I'm not sure of what else we're gonna do but pinning the blame on someone else I can handle. The Brotherhood were trying to edge in on our territory so the next time we fought some of those guys we looted them like a common drop. Later on we went through with my planned heist- knocking over some Weapons Transport. Still trying to fight back the flood of super villains or something, who knows. Those cops never got the shipment but me and the girls got some chill armor and blasters.. courtesy of the Brotherhood, of course, since that's who the cops cracked down on. I think we might still have some of their clothes leftover.."

[Sophistemon]

Vox

After his chair comes back to rest on the opposite side of the table, Vox unclenches his hands from the seat and nods towards Doctor Dire. "I appreciate the sentiment, Doctor, and I endeavor to prove my usefulness to the organization." Following that, he looks at Cynthia and flashes her a dazzling smile. "Invincibility, you say? That's one I wish I'd gotten. I've got a protective suit to wear but it's not the same, you know? And it gets really hot sometimes, especially in the Summer." He snaps upright. "Oh! We're going into this incognito, right? I mean, we want to keep a low profile, don't we? Does that mean no costumes? Because... I don't know if I want to go toe-to-toe with the Sentinels in my civvies." He gnaws a bit on his lower lip and then shrugs his shoulders. "Is it just me?"

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
"I doubt you're much of a singer, doctor," she said. "But have you ever heard the hymn about broken lives? The line with the haunting fears and nameless dread? That's what I've become." The room went completely dark as she expanded the shadow that covered her. "I can do a few other tricks, too," she said, "but I doubt any of you want to be cursed by me. And I'm not opening a portal to hell."

She let the darkness recede, switching it back to cover only her own space. "I...don't think anyone knows much about me. I'm probably the most incognito of y'all. No offense, doctor. But if it comes to it, I can probably blend into a crowd pretty good. I can make the whole stage go dark or something. With a few thugs planted in the crowd to rough people up, that sounds pretty crazy. Can any of the capes see in the dark?"

She thinks for another moment before remembering the cordon. "I guess if we need to get around the police, I can call up a portal to get us backstage. It ought to be pretty shadowy back there, right?"

[Lost Demiurge]

"TEMPLE... GOOD NAME." The armored suit turns, and her chair creaks. "YOUR ENTHUSIASM IS COMMENDABLE, BUT HUGGING DIRE WOULD TRIGGER AUTODEFENSE MECHANISMS. DO REFRAIN FROM THAT. AND PRESIDENT? PLEASE. DIRE WOULD HAVE TO GIVE UP FAR TOO MUCH POWER, SETTLING FOR THAT SINGULAR SINECURE."

She nods at the recounting of exploits past. "LAW OF PROBABILITY DICTATES THAT YOUR MINION IS MOST LIKELY EDWARD CANTRELL. HE WAS QUITE PROFESSIONAL, THOUGH UNAMBITIOUS. IT IS WELL TO SEE THAT HE HAS FOUND SUITABLE EMPLOYMENT."

"AND SADLY, NO, THE CITY DID NOT BOW TO DIRE'S DEMANDS DURING PROJECT BABYLON. STILL, THE EXPERIMENT BORE FRUIT, EVEN IF THE HEROES KNOWN AS TEAM ALPHEBETICA DID DESTROY THE TOWER PROJECTING THE REMIXED NAM-SHUB OF ENKI. PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME IT SHALL AID A FUTURE EFFORT."

She looks at Vox. "IT DOES INDEED MEAN THAT WE ARE CONSTRAINED IN THE COSTUMING DEPARTMENT. GIVEN CURRENT PROBABILITIES, ASSUMING SUCCESS IN THIS VENTURE THEN AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE, OUR EMPLOYERS WILL DESIRE US TO ACT AGAINST ONE OR MORE OF THE SENTINELS. REVEALING OUR CAPABILITIES OR LEAVING TOO MANY CLUES FOR ARTEMIS IN THIS RELATIVELY MINOR MATTER WILL HINDER US IN THE LONG RUN."

And as the shadowy woman speaks again, Dire examines her. "HM. 'MAGIC'. GOOD TO HAVE THAT ANGLE COVERED, GIVEN THE SENTINELS OWN RESOURCES. AND YES, DARKNESS WILL COME IN QUITE HANDY, ESPECIALLY WITH THE FREAKSHOW'S OWN CAPABILITIES THERE. PERHAPS THE NULLIFIERS SHOULD NOT BE THE ONLY SURPRISE..."

"AT ANY RATE, WE HAVE THE RESOURCES WE NEED, AND IT SEEMS, NO FURTHER QUESTIONS FOR OUR HOSTS. LET US DEPART TO PLAN, AND LEAVE THEM TO THEIR OWN MACHINATIONS."

Dire stands, and the hologram shimmers over her once more, disguising all traces of the power armor.

[Sophistemon]

Vox

The villain sighs. "So I'm expected to do battle with the Sentinels in my civilian clothes despite having no superhuman endurance to speak of?" He shakes his head. "I'm willing to be a part of this organization, but I'm of no mind to engage in a suici-" he stops speaking as Doctor Dire activates her holographic cloaking technology. "Hey, now, that would work! Doctor, if you would be willing, do you think you might create illusory disguises for the rest of us? Perhaps as members of the gang we seek to influence towards rioting?" He leans towards her, addressing the senior villain more directly. "The benefits would be two-fold: firstly, we'd be more easily able to fit in amongst the other concert-goers, which would make them more susceptible to our deceptions. Secondly, well, I'd be able to wear my suit without sticking out to the Sentinels, which would make me far more comfortable with our proposed plan of action."

[Lost Demiurge]

Disguised Dire leads the way out of a club, into a small alley out of the main view. Once there, the disguise hums and disappears, and she rolls a small mechanical ball into a corner, next to a dumpster. After a minute, it charges up and SNAPS, revealing a portal to a grey, dimly lit room with many, many gun emplacements in the walls. Dire walks through without hesitation, and beckons the rest of the team through.

Once inside, the guns swivel to track the newcomers, until she raises a hand. Her gauntlet chimes electronically as each member enters, until the portal closes and the gun emplacements shut.

GM
Two ranks of gadgets gives me 10 points to work with. I'm assuming a small portal with a couple of disads in the area of time to activate will give me enough to teleport the team to my lair a few miles away. A bit tired for all the math right now...


"REMEMBER, DIRECT ENGAGEMENT WITH THE SENTINELS WILL NOT REQUIRE COMBAT FOR ALL OF THE TEAM. DIRE'S OWN MODUS OPERANDI WOULD BE FAR TOO RECOGNIZABLE, FOR EXAMPLE. DARKNESS ALLOWS MUCH LEEWAY, BUT THE GOAL IS ONLY TO KEEP THEM BUSY. A HOLOGRAPHIC DISGUISE FOR ALL PARTICIPANTS MIGHT BE POSSIBLE... AFTER THE NULLIFIER IS CONSTRUCTED."

She leads the way through the base, past some fairly spacious living quarters, research facilities, a medical bay, and finally a command center.

There's a spiked steel throne in the center of it, with a U-shaped table awaiting. There are surprisingly comfy chair around the table.

Pausing in a phone-booth size enclosure, she stops still as her armor hisses, and a puff of gas vents from it. It splits open, as a tall, thin beanpole of a woman in her 30's slides out of the suit, straightening her plain grey jumpsuit. Once out, the armor closes again, and the enclosure seals itself.

She takes the throne, and waves a hand at a monitor across the way. It switches from a map of the city to the rough locale of the coming concert.

"We have the starts of a plan." Dire says, her own voice much softer without amplification and distortion. "The first phase, infiltration of the performance area, and setting the scene to our advantage. The second phase, disablement of the police. The third phase, the riot. The fourth phase, the entaglement of the sentinels. And finally, the exit. Does anyone have anything to add to this structure?"

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
I guess this really is the big time, she thought to herself as the group made its way into Dire's lair. She certainly has the supervillain thing down.

Even as she thought that they entered the command room, and she had to suppress a smile upon seeing the throne. So much for not working for her. She took one of the seats nearest Dire's throne and glanced over the map.

"I think you have it laid out pretty well, ma'am. I feel like I can get us inside, and if we black out the concert it shouldn't be too hard to get a riot going. Maybe we hit a few people while everything's dark? If we do it then, hopefully the riot just keeps going and whoever's in the crowd can blend in and get away. Me, I don't have too much to fear from some emo kid punching me.

[Buwh]

"Always good to keep stuff for future use. I mean, it only failed once- I don't understand these villains with no backup for their equipment." Cynthia replied, still thinking about giving the good doctor a hug anyway. With a silly grin, she pondered how, even with the mask, Dr. Dire was just so cute. And what a professional! She was about to speak further to Dr. Dire when a dazzling flash drew her attention elsewhere. It wasn't that bad as she had finished speaking, and the explanations about their plan became background noise.

"Oh.. hello. Yes, yes, invincibility.. maybe I can show you later more in-depth." Cynthia stumbled over her words while she let her eyes travel down Vox slowly. "And we'll have to.. find some way to make you more comfortable in the summer as well.." She looks between Dr. Dire, Vox, and the rest, edging slightly closer to him. "Well, it'd be much nicer if I knew Vox was safe while I was fighting. You know, for the sake of the mission." She gave him a quick smile before getting up with the rest of the group. She'd only just met him but she could instantly tell that she liked him..

Once they were inside Dire's lair, Cynthia gave a loud whistle of approval. "This is pretty swanky, Doctor. You've got all the best villai- oh hey, a coffee maker!" She exclaimed, genuinely excited, and a few of her Hoodies mumbled approval as well. When entering the actual command center she allowed only two to follow her inside- while the rest dispersed to hang out here.

Sitting down across from Elanor, she gave the other woman a small nod. She didn't know everyone in this new organization yet and that would have to change. Hopefully, she could catch up this girl and the other member before they left. Crime was like a family and it was much easier to help out those you trusted and cared about. Relaxing in the chair, her two Hoodies stood behind her relaxed, chatting quietly and pointing things out to each other.

"Don't worry, my gang won't touch anything. They know better. My Hoodies can bring their own props. A few clothes here and there isn't a big change for them and won't affect their fighting abilities." Cynthia spoke, leaning back in the chair. Once Dr. Dire was out of her suit, Temple watched her move to the throne. She had never seen Dire out of her battle suit and, well.. "Um, anyway.. my Hoodies will infiltrate dressed as civiliians or Brotherhood. I've intructred them to listen to all of us instead of just me, so it's a little change for them. Although, nothing you tell them can go against mine or Dr. Dire's orders." She smiled over at the other woman and gestured her at the Hoodie Bodyguards.

"Now, this woman is a super-villain."

[BlackestOfMages]

"I foresee that our operation will succeed. Fate is on our side, after all" Kyle said, taking in Dire's lair. Ostentatious, but funtional and far more luxuriant than the apartment complex he'd previously been working/living out of...
And quite comfortable, he'd been worried from the harsh, logial demanour she had shown so far her quaters would be just as bare and functional. A pleasent surprise.

[Sophistemon]

Vox

"Of course, Doctor," he says, while following the de-facto leader through her technological teleportal and into her lusciously lavish lair. "I spoke only out of concern for the mission at present and our organization at large; I would be of very little usage to either were I somehow incapacitated." He glances around and takes stock of his new accommodations, deeming them comfortable enough for his tastes. He would have to see his personal quarters before making any permanent decisions. "In regards to the plan, Doctor, I do not. I believe that you have the basics pretty thoroughly established." He takes the seat that would place him at Dire's immediate right. "I expected no less from someone of your impressive intellect."

He turns his attentions, then, to Elenor. "I'm not certain about attacking from the darkness to rile people up, although I don't doubt that it'd work. Don't you think it'd be too obvious if people started getting slugged out of shadows? I was thinking that the riot would arise more organically, as a result of manipulated gang loyalties." He stops, then, not acknowledging her last sentence, which he feels is disparaging to his unfortunately human endurance. He then takes a moment to enjoy the sensation of Cynthia's visual appreciation of his body. An artist always enjoys it when someone admires their work. "I'd like that," he says. "Maybe you could stick by me during the mission, mm? With you at my side, I wouldn't have anything to worry about."

Finally, he looks at Farseer. "You would know, right? Tell me, what does the future hold for us? Are we truly destined for success?"

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
"I'm not sure I understand. The whole place should be dark. Give one or two guys a good bump and they'll just start swinging away. Or were you unclear as to just how much I can darken at a time?" She chews on her lower lip. "I mean, the gang thing could work, yeah, but what if those hoodies get caught? Wouldn't it be easier to blackout the concert? No reason we can't do both, I guess. But this we can blame on the drummer, too."

She turns to Dire for support. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Dire rubs her chin.

"The Drummer's talents involves too much salubrious serendipity to let go by untapped. We may as well utilize Dread's darkness... The best method would be to instigate the riot utilizing the disguised Hoodies. Then a cloud of darkness after it gets going, so that the Hoodies may easily escape. The darkness shall confine the riot, hinder attempts to disperse it, and cause the Sentinels trouble. Once they are involved, we can get in a few hits, then activate the nullifiers and withdraw. The ensuing confusion should be enough trouble for them that we can achieve a clean escape."

"Dire shall begin construction of the nullifiers, to be planted by the advance team prior to the concert."

"Holographic disguises shall be a secondary priority. It is likely that some can be arranged, given the schedule. Bear in mind that some of the Sentinels may have methods of penetrating such disguises, so distinctive talents should aim to stay out of sight through mundane methods as well."

"Let us move on to the advance team and those who will take care of the police. Who wishes to do what, and what new ideas do you bring to the table?"

[BlackestOfMages]

"Alas no, my lady, for you see we seek not only a disruption of disasterous duration, but also to irrefutably implicate the implacable brotherhood of the act. Due to the demand of our dispatcher for discretion, we must ensure no doubt remains that te brotherhood began the battle, regardless of reality - and as mortal man use their eyes to see, a veil of darkness in this venture will make such a vision virtually impossible." He pasued for breath for a second, his mind buzzing as he thought up more alliterative annotations for their attempted arangement "Though the moment the scenario is stabalized, your power of the night would be superb in stalling the simpering sentinels."

Responding to vox's question, Farseer closed his eyes and called upon his potent powers of precognition to purvey the positivity of his previous performance

using precognition (and rollin' a notice check [roll0])

[Sophistemon]

Vox

He listens intently to Dire's explanation and nods. "As you say, Doctor." He turns, then, to the Nameless Dread. "I apologize. I see now that my protestations could be seen as an avocation against you being able to utilize your talents, which was not my intention and for which I am sorry." The verbal kowtow puts a sour taste in his mouth, but he continues on, smiling all the while. "I can understand, now, how blacking out the concert is a good idea." With that said, he turns his attentions back to Doctor Dire. "That sounds excellent, Doctor. Thank you for taking my suggestions under consideration. In regards to your question, while I believe that I would be most useful in instigating a riotous confrontation between the two gangs, I might also be able to contribute to the efforts of the advance team. If we're quick enough about it, I may be able to lend my services to both, depending." He shifts in his seat, getting more comfortable. "As I demonstrated earlier, I'm quite capable of destructive feats, but I can also create sonic illusions. If we're looking to simply distract the police, we could perhaps arrange for them to be dispatched elsewhere for the duration of our mission. I would simply need a way to tap into their communicators."

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
At least half the words go over her head, but she's pretty sure Dire backed her up. "I guess I'll wait for my cue when it comes, then."

She ponders the question of the police. "Well, if you don't want me in the concert, I could probably draw their attention away with something. But as I think y'all have told me, it'd have to be pretty noticeable. Don't seem like that's something we want here.

"If we're not even worrying about them, I can get us past them to somewhere dark. At least I think the portals are safe. I try not to use them all that often. But if it's going to be dark in there, I could see them being kind of helpful. I mean, the more fighting the better, right?"

[Lost Demiurge]

Dire nods.

"Then we have our tasks. Dire shall be working for several hours. This lair is open to you. If you wish to leave, utilize one of Dread's portals. Dread, be forewarned that portals MUST only open within the antechamber. Any other part of the lair, and the security systems will assume hostile intent. It will not be conducive to continued existence bereft of disintegrations."

"Quarters are available for those requiring rest and refreshment. Dire's quarters are locked, all others are open and will be keyed to your handprint once activated, and lockable by your whim from thence onward."

"Questions?"

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
Great. You've already shown yourself to be a weak link. The girl blushes a bit. "I, uh, don't know how useful that's going to be, ma'am. I don't even know where we are, and I can't open them very far. Only a few hundred yards, and it has to be dark. I hope everyone's going to be comfortable here."

Her voice shakes a bit, and she flees to find her quarters. That went well. Why are you here, again?

"Nowhere else to go," she says to herself. "At least you can hide in your room until Dire's ready." She looks around, trying to get her bearings and locate her quarters.

[Buwh]

"Of course not, I'll certainly keep you safe sweetie." Cynthia responds, adding a wink at the mysterious suave stranger. She listens intently to the meeting only adding basic yes' and no' responses, or acknowledging with a nod that her Hoodiez would be up to the task.

"Oh, don't worry, hun. They're good at getting away and they knew what they were signing up for.. and if they get caught they wouldn't stay in for long. Jails are like revolving doors to the criminal elite." She said confidently, chilling in her chair and going back to only making short answers and acknowledgements.

Once Dire dismissed them all, Cynthia leaned up and stretched. Her minions were already spread throughout the lair, using it as a new defacto gang hideout. It seemed appropriate, as over the years they'd become more and more technological blurring the line between common criminal and super-villain and, now, here they were with Dr. Dire- THE Dr. Dire. She hoped the doctor didn't mind her inviting a lot of people over but she knew they were all cool and wouldn't dare cross her.

"Hope they have enough rooms." Temple mused out loud to herself, thinking of her large team- but considering the size of this place she was sure they did. Of the five of them, she knew for a fact she liked Vox and Dr. Dire. She admired the Doctor for years, and that man.. well she certainly had to explore his finer aspects later. As the other two, she considered as she studied him, Farseer was a bit distant and off-putting. But she supposed knowing the future would cause your attitude to become slightly alien. Still.. what a valuable asset.

"You'll do great." Temple assures the last member, noticing a worried furrow come over her brow. She flees at nearly the same time, unfortunately interrupting a dialoge with the Dread. "That girl. I'll be anxious to see her talent in action. Almost reminds me of myself before.. well." The Hoodie spoke to no one in particular, probably directing it to one of her close-by minions.

"Take a hike." She ordered, before sliding over next to Vox. "Well well, it seems like we've got some time to kill. Why don't we find your quarters? I always like a little sex in my violence. Haha.." Cynthia chuckled and winked coyly.

[Sophistemon]

Vox

Jason decides to offer Elenore some further encouragement, if only to endear himself to her. "We've all got our weaknesses," he says. "I'm not invulnerable, like I've said before. The fact that you can teleport at all is amazing; I wish that I could do that." He smiles at her. It isn't the full, bright, toothy smile that had worked so well on Cynthia, but a smaller, closed-lipped grin that's carefully calibrated to emanate a warm, friendly understanding. "Don't worry," he then continues. "If you weren't useful, you wouldn't be here. This is the big leagues! That means you've already made it! Just do your very best and we'll all make lots and lots of money." He stands up from his seat and pats her softly on the shoulder. "You're living the good life, Dread. Stop worrying and enjoy it." With that concluded, he turns towards Cynthia and gives her the real smile, the one that seems to light up the room while simultaneously making her feel like the center of his universe. It's a good smile, and he's made use of it often.

"That sounds perfect," he says, sighing out the last word. "All of this plotting and subterfuge, beating around the bush, it isn't really my thing. I like to get right into it, you know?" He returns her wink, letting her in on the double entendre, and then extends his hand for her to hold. "You'll have to be gentle with me, though; my bones can break, and I don't heal as fast as you do, remember?"

[Buwh]

"Mm.. perfect?" Cynthia coos. "I know exactly what you mean, lover." She continues, taking the extended hand and walking off with him to discover.. his room.

"We'll see." The Hoodied Girl offers with tease to Vox's plea of 'be gentle'. They proceed to certainly perform all sorts of acts together, inventive and mundane, for the duration of Dr. Dire's inventing. Do you know what a Mamba Wamba is? No? Good. Don't look it up.

[Ivellius]

Elanor, the Nameless Dread
Her quarters were nice, much better than where she'd been staying. Were they all going to live here around-the-clock now? It was an interesting thought. What an odd family we'd make.

But she couldn't stay here, she reminded herself. Breaking down like that in front of everyone couldn't have helped her case. She needed to prove she was a part of the team, and what better way to do that than scope out the concert? She'd need to find a shadowy area nearby and inside the concert grounds and maybe figure out where the police would be arranged. And how were they going to get tickets, anyway? Maybe Vox or Farseer could help with that.

Leaving her room with renewed purpose, she went to find any of her comrades who were left in the main room and see if anyone would show her the way out. Dire's minions had to get out somehow, after all.

[BlackestOfMages]

Kyle took the elevator up into the abandoned warehouse, stepping carefully over the "merchendice" stored within - a smart place to hide a high profile headquaters; the fool "heroes" always checked the empty warehouses. clever.

Stepping into the open, the weave of fate took in a pleasent lungfull of air; the lair was nice for what it was, but he much preffered to be in the fresh air. Idly, he levitated himself to atop the building, taking in the ambeiance. He could taste the excitement in the air, as if the world itself was readying itself for their caper.

Thinking about that, Kyle turned his thoughts to his teammates. Dire seemed as competant as the media had portrayed her, which was reasuring.
Vox seemed highly competant if a little secretive - though he had to respect disgression, as secrets ept the world turning.
Cynthia - and by extension the gang of plebian that followed her - seemed a useful asset, but he had concerns of her unproffessional demanor.
Lastly, there was Mrs Elanor - he was a little concerned for her emotional state from what he'd picked up from brushing her mind, and he had concerns that she might break under stress.

Alas, he would have to trust Penderton knew what he was doing when he assembled the group.

[Sophistemon]

Vox lays back on the bed and stretches, wincing only slightly when his shoulder pops back into place with a slight crack before settling his head against the pillow. He sighs contentedly and looks over at Cynthia. "I'll say it again," he states. "I'd love to be invulnerable." He chuckles, then, and smiles the smile that first endeared him to her. If this was a taste of things to come, he's sure to enjoy his tenure as a member of the team.

[Limos]

Meanwhile at the Amphitheater...
2 hours to the beginning of the concert

Fans and roadies have been arriving at the concert site for hours already, hardcore fans breaking out the food and booze in preparation for a night of partying. Event security have locked down the entrances and exits while roadies set up the equipment and lighting.

A few scattered cords echo from the stage as the techs do sound tests on the instruments. The tour buses and trailers are parked in a fenced off area beside the parking garage and guarded by their own complement of security.

Fast forward a bit, make your checks for anything you wanted to get done in the past 20 some odd hours. If you want to get to the concert now and start poking around please do so.

[BlackestOfMages]

Kyle stood in the space he had made for himself amongst the crowd of mindless milling mundanes, preparing himself for the inspiring incident they intended to incite. As he stood in place, he sagely sent his sight through the sea of simpeltons stuffing the stadium, searching for anyone he noticed outside their own little group; it would not do to have someone else interupt their actions, and to neutralize them first would be pertinent.

Notice: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]

[Lost Demiurge]

Dire joins the fans outside, wearing her holoprojector turned to "Generic teen in black t-shirt." This one's been given extra acne particle projection, to guarantee minimal interaction.

The second holodisguise went to Vox, so he could move around armored without attracting notice. The third one to the Nameless Dread, given her critical role in events to come.

Well away from cameras, and with time to consider, Dire waits with "Dread". The hoodies have been given a handful of small devices to place once backstage and the concert area have been thoroughly scoped. Now her part is minimal, until the time comes to disrupt the police...

[BlackestOfMages]

Lost my link to the OOC so I'm going to post here:

has this game stopped?

[Buwh]

"Oh, lover, wouldn't you though?" Cynthia says in a mock falsetto, before escaping from the confines of the sheets exposing her totally nude body. She too stretched and even bounced a little before bending to start the long.. slow.. process of putting on her clothes. "Too bad duty calls." She said with a slight chuckle and a wink.

An hour later and Cynthia was rolling up to the event in.. one of her Henchmen's busted Sedans. No need to draw undo attention even if it did look like she had Daddy's car for the weekend. Looking out over the crowd she giggled with anticipation. "This is just like that time we went to that Deathcore group back in 08'.. except hopefully no one dies. You know. Except the police. And innocent bystanders."

Without waiting for a reply from her personal wrench wench, Ashley, Cynthia stepped out giving her only a curt order to 'keep the car running'. Waiting there she stared down the guys blocking the entrance muttering slightly. She slithered her way through the crowd casting only one look of regret towards the stage.

"Damn.. if I wasn't going to blow this party, I'd have loved to come. I'll bring Voxie along." Cynthia mused before finding a less crowded spot and speaking into her wrist microphone. "Eddie, you in position?" After a moment of silence, the hoodie on the other end replied in a hushed whisper for the affirmative.

"Good.. Can't believe they thought you were a tech just wandering around back there. Guess you've got the look, lucky you, right? Tell the guys and girls to be ready 'cause this is gonna be a hell of a show."

Several of her Hoodies waited in cars parked outside the event, and some weer already in place among the crowed with a few backstage to carry out Dire's will.

No way man! OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=234874)

Bluff (We're Techs!): [roll0]

[Sophistemon]

Vox

It takes the vocal villain somewhat longer to get ready, as he insists on having a shower before dressing. After he's toweled off he dressed himself in the uniform of his duplicitous alter-ego. Once the helmet is placed over his head and clicks into place, he stares at himself in the mirror. "Would you **** me?" he asks his garishly posing reflection. And then, "I'd **** me." He adjusts the gun holster on his belt and activates Doctor Dire's holographic disguise module. The technology causes his uniform to shimmer and warp before it is replaced, pixel by pixel, by standard civilian garb. He scowls at his reflection, then because, like all narcissists, he's overly critical of his appearance. If not for his supernatural charisma, people would call him homely, and the idea of it irks at him each and every day of his life. He adjusts the disguise to make himself appear more handsome, with traces of famous movie stars around his eyes, lips, nose, and cheeks. There! You know, he thinks, I bet Dire could invent a cosmetic-surgery robot that could make me look like this all the time. He smiles at the thought and leaves, intending to meet the others at the concert.