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Showing results for tags 'crimson tiger'.
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Freedom City April 2014 The Crime Lab (Remote Site) Richard Cline was not one for advanced planning most of the time, but then again most of the time he wasn't going back to dinosaur times. "All right, the advance team has been on the island for almost a week, and they haven't run into anything larger than a Great Dane, so I think we'll be all right." He let one of the techs pop a USB into the computer's port (something he had deliberately notmastered), playing what looked like an iMovie recording of a mostly-deserted tropical island, complete with birds in the air and animals on the beach - until the viewer saw the teeth and scales on the feathered fliers overhead, or realized that those weren't dogs fighting over the washed-up fish on the beach. The island looked to be in the center of a small bay, with low hills and a river visible on the opposite coast a few miles away. "They're almost exactly at the site of Chicxulub, good good. We're lucky that island was there, the ultralights they sent out said it's all swampy marsh on the mainland." Fred Tanzin, the second unit director for Supercrime!, focused on the special guests. "We'll do some footage of you for the promos, either here in the studio once you come back or while you're in the field. We're still on for filming all the way from the 22nd through the 25th, local time. I know you've had a chance to read our briefing packet and be introduced to the on-air talent - but do you have any questions I can answer for you about the show?"
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Outside Silberman's Books, the corner of Pratt and Frederick. Monday, August 4th, 2014. 9:58 am Sitting on the stoop in front of her shop, Lynn checked the time on her smartphone again; whoever these girls were, they were far from late, but she really just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Her ad had introduced the store owner and future landlady to a broad spectrum of Freedom's citizens, and she was being to feel discouraged. She was basically inviting someone to move into her house, so yes, she was being rather picky, but so far...eyugh. The Poodle Twins. Mr. and Mrs. Bowling Shirt. Patchouli Pete and his Amazing Jacket of Many Smells. I just want some who's more or less normal but still interesting; is that so much to ask? Or have I turned into an old fart? Lynn had on her favorite style of sunglasses, big clunky plastic things from a time gone by, a faded Willy Wonka t-shirt, boot-cut jeans and a pair of light hiking boots; her hair was in a practical ponytail and she fiddled with the ring that hung around her neck.
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Also have OOC thread
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August 7th, 10:34PM A lot of things happen in this city. A lot of bad things. A lot of good things. Perhaps Mali would reflect on them later, but right now she was giving a knee to the gut of a drug peddler that would, perhaps, adjust the tides of the earth itself. Lifted off his feet from the strength of the blow, he collapsed in a heap, gasping and clutching at his midsection, his eyes threatening to bulge out of the eye sockets as he groaned. In her defense, he had pulled a gun on her. Technically her response was nonlethal, even if he didn't believe it at the moment. Others were running from this deal. It was a new hip drug on the streets. Well it would be, if tonight had gone anywhere. Still they were scrambling to load up some of the drugs into a panel van. Because of course there was a panel van. With her sharpened senses she could tell there was less than a handful of men still mobile, the two at her feet were taken out of the fight decisively.
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Let's see, go ahead and give me an unmodified d20 roll for this one.
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A DC 20 Notice check will reveal to the heroes on the surface that this stuff on the side of the prison
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Posted Today, 12:09 AM March 15, 2014 Blackstone Prison 8 PM "Congratulations, Number 01337, you're going out 24 hours early!" The thump of the Blackguard's truncheon against his glassed cell door caught Breaker's attention. A trio of guards, flanking a convict Flynt hadn't seen before, were standing outside his cell with keys and transfer equipment in hand. "Number 03314 here managed to get herself out of the psych ward overnight, so we're putting here in here and moving you upstairs a day early. You'll like it up there, Number 1, just make sure you don't go outside till your parole clears. It's colder than Hell out there." The new prisoner, a woman with a close-cropped prison haircut, met Flynt's eyes with a truly murderous glare (the kind he'd gotten a lot in and out of prison); the swollen-up bruises on one side of her face a testament to whatever brawl had gotten her back in gen-pop overnight. She couldn't talk, not with the bite guard in place, but she did not look happy to be taking his spot - their power nullification gloves about all they had in common. --- "Fascinating, simply fascinating." Down in the reactor room, Richard Pasaphan, architect of Thailand's planned Royal Prison for Extraordinary Crime, was taking furious notes as Warden Drummer spoke. He'd been friendly enough upon his introduction to Crimson Tiger, the legacy heroine who was the most prominent Thai hero active in Freedom City, but for the most part had spent all his time soaking in the tour of the most famous super-prison in the world. "All right, I think we're ready to go upstairs," said Drummer as he led them out towards the elevator, he and Pasaphan talking a mile a minute about the logistics of super-prisoner containment. Crimson Tiger had gotten the full tour as well, but it was obvious she was just part of the local color here. --- Precognition was a funny thing, as were psychic powers in general - what else could have led both Foreshadow and Mindsteel to the same windswept island on the same cold, gloomy evening? Of course, for heroes like Arrowhawk, it wasn't psychic powers that steered you along but pure instinct...
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Midtown, Freedom City, New Jersey The Goodman Building Friday, February 7, 2014 Despite the recent heavy snow, it was business as usual this Friday morning in Freedom City. The roads had been cleared, and though there were still piles of snow scattered about, it was otherwise just a rather typical, cold, winter day in the busy city. Mali Benjawan was driving a small white van through Midtown's busy streets. Normally, she would still be in classes at Claremont Academy over in Bayview Heights. But today she and a number of other students were departing for a rather unusual field trip that would last over the weekend. Inside the van were four of Mali's fellow students. Sitting in the front passenger seat was the one Mali knew best, Elias Silvestri, and the second oldest present. Seated in back seats were Georgia Montgomery, William Cline, and then the student Mali knew the least, one of the school's newest, Ralf Steiner. But Mali had little time to think about her fellow students riding in the van, as she maneuvered through the tight traffic along 40th Avenue. Then up ahead she saw their destination, the massive steel frame of the Goodman Building, its mirror-finished windows gleaming in the mid-morning sun. The top five floors of the Goodman Building was home to the famous Atom Family, one of whom would be acting as the chaperone and guide for the group of Claremont students on their outing.
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Thursday, February 7, 2013 Early evening A couple of days ago, Lucy Harker had received a visit from a mother that was concerned about her young adult son being in some sort of trouble. Ms. Diaz was originally from Mexico, having moved to the United States more than twenty years ago before becoming a naturalized citizen. Her son, Benito, was a first generation Mexican-American, and his mother had worked hard to make sure he had plenty of opportunity and did not fall into the wrong crowd. One of the activities Benito had taken to was boxing, and he had even won a few junior competitions in the city. Ms. Diaz had told Lucy that Benito had changed dramatically in the last couple of weeks, often staying out late at night and occasionally coming home with injuries which he gave shaky explanations for when she would question him about them. But Lucy had barely been able to start looking into things when she had received a call from Ms. Diaz this morning, informing her that Benito had been gone since Tuesday night. After assuring Ms. Diaz that this was now a top priority for her, Lucy had called one of her clients, the Bloodhound detective agency, and invoked part of their "agreement" to enlist their aid in tracking down the young man. Then, she had gone with Fred Furlong and Harry Hound to Ms. Diaz's home to start trying to figure out what might be going on with her son. After searching his room, they had found a fair amount of cash hidden in a drawer, but nothing else that would suggest gang activity or drug dealing. They had spent the rest of the day asking around in the neighborhood, but could not turn up anything that would suggest Benito had joined a gang. At this point, Harry and Fred brought up a rumor they had been hearing recently about some underground street fighting rings being run in parts of the Fens and Greenbank. Of course, the two private eyes knew little more than the possible existence of these operations, but they knew someone who likely knew more. Of course, given how their last visit to see Ricky Ferreti had gone, they decided to try to catch him before he reached his favorite watering hole. So now Lucy, Fred and Harry were sitting in the Bloodhound agency's Cadillac outside the bar, watching for Ricky to arrive.
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The OOC for >this thread.
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November 17, 2013 Port Regal Providence Asylum Dotted with cheerful statuary of frolicking cherubs, its rose-and-sandstone facade visible from miles away, the warmly lit and well-tended Providence Asylum looks like nothing more than a giant strawberry wedding cake - it's an excellent place for Freedom City's mentally ill to recuperate from the challenges of their disease - what kind of person puts an insane asylum in some Gothic hellhole, anyway? Between Claremont training, patrolling, and the occasional help with a mass breakout, the heroes Wraith, Crimson Tiger, Blodeuwedd, and the second Foreshadow were all familiar indeed with the building and its contents - which made a summons to the rooftop for a meeting with the ever-mysterious Raven all the more intriguing! The night was dark, and cold, but dry for Freedom City in the fall, with a crisp bite in the air to mark the cool weather to come. Though security at the Asylum was famously tight, making breakouts almost impossible, sure enough (just as promised in the message conveyed to them by the Dark Detective's agents) it seemed particularly light tonight - there were gaps in the spotlight coverage and the cunningly concealed electric fence was actually deactivated, thus making it possible for a canny foursome to make their way not just to the building but to the very angel-dotted rooftop at its summit!
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Midtown, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, November 25, 2013 3:30 PM GM The weather in Freedom City had clearly begun to turn towards winter, the temperatures now regularly hovering at close to freezing during the day. There had already been a few days where a thin layer of frost greeted the morning sun, but thus far there had been no actual snow. But despite the cold weather that promised an even colder winter, the spirits in Freedom City seemed generally high, as it was only a few short days before Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season. But even with Black Friday approaching, many stores had already begun their Christmas sales in the hopes of starting their holiday shopping season early. The stores in Millennium Mall, one of the largest shopping malls in Freedom City, were no exception. So when three teenage girls from Claremont Academy ascended the escalator from the subway station located beneath the mall, it was to find Christmas decorations and displays up in full force. And though it was mid-afternoon on a Monday, the mall was quite crowded with shoppers.
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2AM (Los Angeles time) December 5, 2013 Richard Cline sipped his coffee and checked his 1989 Chrono-Quartz digital watch, a 20th anniversary present that he would get tired of about the time his son stopped asking him when he was going to learn how to text. Six am in Freedom City. Better get moving. "Juanita," he said, slapping a twenty down to pay for the several cups he'd drunk that morning, "your coffee is great every night, but this stuff?" he picked up the cup and winked, glad as ever he'd found this greasy spoon diner instead of the trendy coffee shops everyone else seemed to hit in LA. "Totally radical." He stepped out of the shop, let his feet hit the pavement - and ran. Back in the late 90s when he and Paige had been trying to have a kid, Richard had sat down for the first time with a science-type and figured out how his powers worked. Behind all the nerd stuff, the German guy they'd hired had been pretty straightforward: first he emitted a chroniton field that stopped time all around himself, freezing everyone and everything in a nanosecond bubble of no-time as his powers washed over everything like paint on a tie-dyed shirt. And then he turned his power on himself, accelerating his own subjective time so that he was running faster than a man, faster than a plane, faster than Johnny Rocket, as he laughed at the sound barrier and reached his typical cruising speed of 20,000 miles an hour. At the end of a run, he reversed the process, slowing himself back down again, then restarting local time so that he synched back up with the rest of the world. From Richard's perspective, though, it was like this - Olvera Street slowed to first a crawl, then a stand-still as Richard sprinted down the zigzag brick street. Pause. A moment later, as acceleration kicked in, the city erupted to life again as Fast-Forward rocketed down blurred LA streets faster than a jet could fly, Richard's phenomenal reflexes turning speeding cars and zipping bikes into so many standing-still slowpokes. Play. As he left the LA basin behind, Richard reached down his watch and hit the timer button, a smile curling his lips. "Time to fast-forward!" he exulted as he hit hypersonic speed, the wind in his face like a summer breeze as the world became a series of slow-moving images and garbled sounds, the thousands of miles between LA and Freedom City falling away like a sprint around the block. 8 and a half minutes from LA to Freedom City. Four slow, slow minutes buying a box of assorted doughnuts at World's Fair in St. Louis. His watch beeped at 6:13 as he hit the streets of Freedom City and Richard slowed down, coming to a halt just outside the Cline family's brand-new front door at six-fifteen on the dot. He glanced down at his watch and turned off the little timer, keeping a grimace off his face. Fifteen minutes to go cross-country. I'm turning into Don freaking Ameche here! He pushed that thought down, reminding himself that today wasn't about the old man, today was about his boy and the family taking him to school. Holly was asleep, or at least her lights were off, but even still there was no burdening his little girl with her dad's unhappy thoughts. He glanced back at the white picket fences around the house and opened the door; his leather jacket was hanging up and costume in his belt buckle faster than a normal man could blink, and he set the box of donuts down where they'd stay warm in the kitchen. All right, time for breakfast...Freedom City was cold, so reluctantly he turned on the electric stove, flipping his way through five or six cookbooks until he remembered where he'd left Will's favorite Mexican bacon and egg recipe. This was a big day for the kid - better get it started off right!
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Thursday, September 5th Gourd's Gym Mali parked her car and opened the door. "Well, we're here". She said, grabbing her gym bag out of the back seat. "This is a nice place, I was here a while back." She glanced up at the gym and remembered, fondly, the last time she'd been in the gym. That guy had been fun to spar with. She had sparred with Crow a few times, but that tended to draw a bit of an audience if there was anyone else in the gym. Came with the territory of being one of the better hand-to-hand fighters at the school. "They've got all the usual gym gear." She said.
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OOC for thread, for when we need it.
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Here is the OOC
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Thursday, November 28th, 3:00 PM Thanksgiving Mali Benjawan was excited. She'd arrived at home a couple days before and had woken up promptly in the morning to help her parents set dinner up. When she proposed bringing some friends in to eat with them, they were happy to hear it. Her parents expressed concern with their less than traditional Thanksgiving meal and how her friends would feel, but she reassured them that her friends weren't very traditional either. They were asked to arrive sometime in the early afternoon. Any time before six would be fine, because that's when they were planning on eating. She wasn't sure what time they were all going to show up, but in the meantime she distracted herself by helping with food preparation.
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“The name of our target is Chakprii Anantasu.†Black Tiger said as he swung a leg over his motorcycle. It was their second day in Bangkok, Mali knew they were leaving first thing on the third morning. The day had been a fun one as Mali hung out with her family. A traditional Thai dinner with a bunch of family she had never met before. Sometime around mid-afternoon, the two of them had settled in his bedroom while he searched the internet for information. Databases on criminals, government records, even medical records. She was amazed at the ease at which he found the information. Unfortunately, all they got was an address. That was enough. "We need to be extra careful. Tonight, we're taking down an opium empire.†She nodded, he grinned. It was amazing how confident he was. They had a name, but would it be enough? Would they provoke the entire organization to come crashing down on them? Still, Black Tiger was nothing if not confident, and skilled. Compared to Bangkok, Freedom City was practically Disneyland. Last night had been easygoing, almost fun. None of the guards were all that competent. The gunmen, for example, could have moved as a group and taken them out. Instead, they mindlessly fired until they ran out of bullets and got taken down. Tonight was different. She could feel it in the air. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky. It was an ominous warning. She knew she would have to be on top of her game tonight. The address was a rather impressive apartment building. The target had the penthouse. On a hunch, Tarrin checked out the owners and some of the residents. The whole building belonged to Chakprii Anantasu. The whole building was full of criminals.
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January 24, 2013 It was just after beginning of lunch period on Thursday, January 24th, 2013 when a holographic dog appeared in the common room of the Claremont dorm that had recently been the home of Sharl Tulink, the young hero who had given his life to save his home world, and much of Earth, from the ravages of the Curator earlier in the month. Claremont's students had been hard at work rebuilding their damaged campus and making new connections with friends who had been falsely accused of being Terminus replicants, or had in fact turned out to be evil robots from beyond the depths of space. Lora, Sharl's familiar electronic German Shepard, woofed at everybody a moment before Sharl Tulink himself simply appeared in thin air with a faint electrical hum. Standing right in front of the TV, and in fact seeming to be partially projected from it, he was hard to miss. "Uh, hey everybody," he said with a little wave. "I'm back!"
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Febuary 27th, 4:38 PM Etain had to shrug off the cold as she entered the building. She might never get used to how cold this realm could get, but at least it was warm inside. It had been a little bit since she had been to the Claremont gym. The nastiness of the previous month certianly held other priorities to such thing. Still the familiarity of the place put her at ease as she set her coat on the rack. After a moment she decided to also remove the top half of her outing suit as well revealing a cream floral printed blouse underneath. She also took a second to roll up her sleeves as she looked around the gym and moved towards the nearby weapons rack. She stood in front of it and started to catalog, there hadn't been much change in it's variety, she was hoping she could try training with something new.
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5th December, 2012 Roberta Isley Garden The small Zen garden in the midst of the larger greenery was a favored relaxation spot, even in the middle of December. The snowy day hadn't put a damper on the number of students who seriously wanted a place to find tranquility within. New to the small square of rocks, Chinese-style lanterns and the small burbling fountain was the stocky form of Subito Sondo, who wandered into the almost perfectly quiet garden, a light green and blue flannel shirt his only concession to the cold he didn't have to worry about, taking off his hat with a nervous glance around at the concentrated or placid faces dotting the place. Nervously taking a seat on a relatively clear space, he crossed his legs under himself, took a quiet breath, closed his eyes and began to meditate... ...then his eyes snapped open as he muttered, just a little too loudly. "Wait. I don't know how to meditate. Crap."
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The Morning of January 15, 2013 The Wonderbus roared through the skies of the Northern Hemisphere almost impossibly fast, the extra-dimensional construction of the craft shunting away the excess heat energy from its hypersonic flight enough to keep it undetectable in the air. They were flying thousands of miles, but the fantastic speed of their craft would get them there in less than an hour. Trying to keep his mind off the crisis of Erde-Tronik, the bioweapons, and the advanced plasma weapon that had nearly killed them all, Sharl had pulled up situation monitors from the computer inside the Bus, trying to keep track of what they'd left behind. "The good news is, the chaos seems to be limited to Freedom City, so it must be something there...I don't know, that bomb was extra-terrestrial, but I didn't recognize the maker. Maybe it's something with the Grue again." At least what they hoped to do with the Sanctum was easy enough. "I'll connect Erde-Tronik to the power supply there and keep it safe until Miss A and I can get it protected. As for the bioweapons, we can just drop them in one of the stasis fields there. It's not a long-term solution, but it'll last long enough for us to keep things safe. We-" A distant beeping interrupted Sharl. "That's the proximity alarm. Maybe there's somebody from the League there already." He tapped a few buttons on the bank of monitors they were all sitting around, the black and white screens looking as much like something from a 60s sci-fi TV show as the high-tech pieces of super-science they were. "I don't understand, there's something on top of..." The great grey vessel squatted over the Sanctum like an anteater scooping out ants, tentacles rising from its lower half scooping away huge chunks of ice even as they watched. The three eyes and slight horn at the rear echoed the face of the Gorgon, but Sharl knew that face well enough from his studies and his nightmares. He saw the details in an instant; the great digitizing towers driven into the icy Arctic landscape like tent spikes the size of buildings, the glowing red 'eyes' that bespoke an active subspace connection across the galaxy, and worst of all, much, much worse, were the smaller tentacles already buried in the exposed roof of the Centurion's Sanctum. His eyes wide with horror, Citizen managed to form the words: "It's the Curator."
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the climactic struggle of the Day of Wrath saga
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When the battle was done and the commandos defeated, Citizen floated out of the warehouse with his precious cargo tucked beneath one arm. "I've got it, guys!" He had both the truncated Erde-Tronik drive and the gold boxy storage medium from Earth-Prime in the same big black case. It would be up to he and Gina over the next few months, (probably as what would incidentally count as his graduation project) to integrate the Troniks together successfully but for now the backup was complete and the City of the Future (as he still sometimes thought of it, the very old motto that Tronik had kept even after the Exodus) was safe from the National Socialists. Assuming they got out there in time! "Wow!" He wasn't so focused as to not be impressed when he saw the battle with his own eyes; the smoking helicopters, the fleeing commando, the crack Nazi strike team that Young Freedom had taken apart with all of the skill and power of a master artist painting a portrait. "Nice, you guys," he said with a grin before disappearing into the Wonder Bus. "Now let me get the systems in here rebooted..." As the lights inside the Bus came back on, the other machines came out, Rogue in the lead in a humanoid body that looked like a human woman cast in the featureless nude, like something from a German Expressionist movie. With no explanation for the new shape, she cast her gaze from the scene of the battle to the heroes, back and forth, and for the first time seemed almost uncertain. "You did this. All of this, when you could have taken your Sharl and that city and..." She opened and closed mechanical hands before saying, decisively, "All right. All right, maybe you're right. Maybe there is another way to prosecute our war against the National Socialists." The group of robots behind her, which did not include her Sharl (who was in that system his counterpart was carrying) startled at that, but Rogue pressed on. "If you can fight the Nazis like this, teach them _fear_ without destroying them all, maybe we can try it ourselves. At least once, anyway. But you'd better take the Ragnorak with you. If we're not going to prune the humans back, it'll just look bad if we have it in our possession."
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Are we in initiative? I dunno. Disable Device, Notice, Sense Motive, or Technology checks might also be prudent.
