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Showing results for tags 'geckoman'.
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June 1st, noon The figure cut casually up the street, clad in plain blue jeans and a battered brown leather jacket. He whistled merrily as he sauntered along, hands in his pockets. His face was covered with a big baseball cap, a faded green colour. When he got to his destination, the figure casually sauntered up the staircase, and pulled out a letter from his pocket, detailing the specifications of his employment. And, with a wide grin, knowing he was about to annoy some certain people, he pulled a pair of orange goggles up from where they hung at his neck and up around his eyes. And then hammered 'shave and a haircut' on the door.
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After long years of negotiations, UtiliTek, a proud subsidiary of the Grant Conglomerates, had been granted permission to bring Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, the legendary Grasscutter, from Japan to the United States for analysis in their Freedom City-based facilities. Part of the Imperial Regalia, the longsword had surfaced a handful of times in more recent history as the focus of various supervillainous plans and at least once as the instrument by which a particularly close near-apocalypse had been averted. It's impossibly shard edge had garnered it a reputation as perhaps the finest example of its kind ever forged, and piqued the interest of a variety of groups. UtiliTek hoped to discover the process through which simple steel could be made cut diamond, to be applied in any number of industrial capacities. The Japanese government had not surprisingly been reluctant to agree to the loan, and Grasscutter's arrival in Freedom was nothing short of the publicity coup for the company. As such, before the test were conducted, the blade was being put on display to the general public for one weekend along with an extensive collection of other cultural artifacts on the ground floor of the UtiliTek head office in Hanover. Amid the crowds of viewers was Erik Espadas, a young man from the city's West End with a particular interest in all things related to swords and their use. Wearing a wool lined brown jacket against the February cold and with a knapsack slung over one shoulder, the fencer studied Grasscutter from the other side of red velvet ropes and a glass case. Hm. Doesn't feel magic... at least, I don't think so, he mused to himself, extended his metamagi senses outward with a faint frown. I should really practice this stuff more.
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10pm, Friday 15th October Geckoman sauntered casually out of the alleyway, leaving a couple of hapless muggers tied up with a tracer beacon for Freedom's Finest to come collect them. "All in all, a good night's work," he said to the air, as he reached into his pocket for a Twinkie. Taking a deep bite out of it, he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall by a dark-haired woman with pale skin and red eyes. Oh, and the fangs. "How about I take a bite out of you?" Her breath smelt like the grave, and of blood and gore. But Geckoman remained unabashed. "My centre's only slightly creamy, I should warn you," he said, looking disappointedly at his dropped snack. "A little stale, I think." The woman effortlessly hefted him over her head and threw him out into the street. He rolled up into a crouch, backflipping over the vampire as she surged at him for another strike. "Dear Lord, woman, can't you find a 7-11?" Parrying a lightning fast blow, he followed up with a swift gut punch. Vampire Lady didn't even flinch, shrugging off the blow as if it was nothing. "I hunger. Can't you smell the death in the air? It makes me HUNGRY." Her jaws lunged at Geckoman's throat, only deflected by a quick spinning kick. It threw the woman off-balance and onto her back. "Well, I was hungry!" shouted Geckoman, sounding like he was genuinely angry. "My twinkie!" He rushed in again, the two combatants moving ridiculously fast, striking and parrying so fast the air hissed around them. And, in a flash, Geckoman was behind her, leaping through the window of a jeweler's. He ducked and dived through the glass display cases of the dark shop, inspecting the rings and watches and bracelets as he did. "Oooh, how many carats? C'mon, lady, let me buy you a little something." With a feral snarl, she grabbed him by the neck just as he'd palmed an object from one of the smashed cases. Right, I hope I can identify precious metals on sight. He held his hand out, palm up, a beautiful silver ring held in it. "Crazy vampire lady, will you marry me?" Her grip loosened in shock, and she just stared at the green-clad teenager. "It's your soulless red eyes, they just make me wanna spend the rest of my unlife with you." To her credit, Vampire Lady rallied admirably, raising her other hand to punch Geckoman in the face. But he was faster, slipping the ring on. "Yes, Geckoman, I will marry me!" And, with a quick one-two, the silver ring gouged a huge dent across the vampire's face. He followed up swiftly, smashing her head through one of the few undamaged glass displays, before grabbing a chair and snapping its leg off. "STELLLLLAAAAAAAAAAA!" he cried, thrusting the stake into the vampire's heart, leaving her hanging lifeless and unmoving with her head unceremoniously trapped inside a jeweler's cabinet. At which point he leaned up against the cabinet, knowing the silent alarm would soon have the police and the owner running. At which point he'd need to explain away the damage to the shop, and to a very expensive silver engagement ring. "Ho-hum," murmured the Geckoman as he took up his guard duty, pulling out another Twinkie and biting into it. Then he paused and sniffed the air. For a second, if only for that amount of time, he thought he'd smelt death. And he got a bad feeling about the future.
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Everything Must Go - set in Midtown's mall Geckoman moved at full speed through the city, pausing occasionally to shoot down some flying alien gribblies. So, Chris, you go off to save the city... and forget about the girl. Good going. "Geckoman to Young Freedom, I am assisting at Millenium Mall. At present, don't need help. Although, if anyone wants to give a cheery pep talk, or make me a sandwich, it'd be much appreciated." He clicked some buttons on a panel somewhere, and hit the autopilot switch. "If you see the Pitcho heading to the Midwest, then... well, that's actually planned, believe it or not." And, with that, he leapt out of the moving airship. "GERONIMO!!!" he yelled as he plummeted towards the large building underneath him... Spellbound stood in front of the advancing aliens, wand held in front of her, crackling with lightning. She'd been trying to hold this mall, with only occasional support, for most of a day, and she was visibly flagging from the effort. "Dammit, Chris," she murmured, glancing back at the unarmed civilians behind her. "This is your job..." With that, she lunged forwards at the charging Grue, blasting one down with lighting and whirling to knock one flat on its back with the force field surrounding her. She jumped up in the air to avoid an attack and was suddenly showered with glass from above as the roof shattered. And a blood-smeared, slightly grimy Geckoman dropped towards the ground, parachute falling away as he did so. "Hey, guys," he grinned, landing on one foot and pivoting on it. "Just dropping in to say hi." And, on that, he roundhoused a Grue away from his bemused looking girlfriend. "Ever considered getting a beeper?" "I figure I can't get rid of you," smirked Liz, shaking her head. "So, shut up, and stop the bad guys so we can go home." Geckoman snapped off a quick salute as he backhanded a Geckorang through the crowd of Grue, backflipping out of his salute into a two-footed jump kick. Having left Spellbound to look after the civilians, Geckoman ran through the mall, spinning off walls, kicking Grue to the ground and occasionally swinging back up to the top level on his grapple line to deposit some poor straggler with the rest of the survivors. But it was then that he saw it. This alien seemed so much bigger than the others, and its eyes glowed with some weird white light. I think I've heard of these things. Can't they read- "Minds?" boomed the creature. Well, that's a yes. And, in a flash, it had elongated its legs to be in front of Geckoman, a fist shaped like a hammer throwing him into a lingerie store. Standing triumphant, the alien's mocking laughter stopped suddenly as a green blur shot out from a pile of scattered clothing and slammed into its stomach. Then, despite it being stunned, the teen hero's second punch missed, giving the monster time to stretch its arm into a baseball bat and send Geckoman flying, the bra which had covered up his goggles falling off in mid-air. Spellbound looked on in horror as Geckoman skidded across the floor, shedding women's underwear from his body as he crashed into a table. "This is not the time to indulge your crossdressing!" she snapped as the huge Grue crashed onto the upper level, tiles splintering underneath him. The people hiding at the back of the level screamed in panic, and started fleeing for the stairs. But once more huge, elongated alien arms came crashing down towards the crowd, only halted by a magnetically levitated cash register. "Get up, Chris! Now!" Then she paused, realising her mistake. "Geckoman!" Getting up in a haze of pain and visions of frilly lace, Geckoman leapt into the air, hurling random objects from his utility belt at the alien. The monster crashed back from three Geckorang impacts, coughed through a huge cloud of multiple smoke bombs and then pausing in bemusement at a pair of furry handcuffs. "C'mon, big guy, read what I'm going to do!" He rolled across the round and came up in a handstand, kicking furiously with his legs into the alien's chest. "Because, I assure you, I don't know what's in my big ol' mind half the time!" He pushed off from the alien with both feet, rolling away and upright as Spellbound fired a bolt of electricity straight at him, which he ducked so fast it soared over his head and into the shapeshifter's chest, throwing it off of the floor they were on. "Wand!" shouted Chris, holding out his arm. Liz managed to throw the wand, despite the fatigue clearly making it hard for her to throw it that hard. "I'll return!" And, once more, Geckoman leapt off of what he was standing on, sliding down the side of a pillar and landing on the alien's chest. "Welcome to Earth... we hope you enjoyed your time here," he growled, emptying the wand's battery into the shapeshifter's chest, leaping clear of the smell of charcoal and returning to defend the civilians upstairs. 10 hours later It was dark over Freedom City. The Pitchoo hovered over the bay, engines humming faintly as it kept itself afloat in the sky. On top of the ship sat a guy and a girl with their arms around each other. "So, what do we do about this?" said Chris softly. Liz looked up at him. "We deal with it. Just like we dealt with the massive alien invasion. Just like how you dealt with Rick. We've come too far to just end it because you enjoy running around in tights too much." Chris suppressed a laugh, and nodded. "Good point. And the tights do make me look pretty."
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A couple of weeks after prom, Mark invited his friends over to his house. Well, the people who still were his friends: he wasn't really talking much to Eddie these days, but most of his colleagues from Young Freedom were on the list. He was standing outside the door of the Lucas house to greet them when they arrived, the lawn looking just a little grubbier and the house a little dingier than when the Young Freedom members had been there last. Mark himself was out of costume, but also out of the black, depressing clothes he'd been wearing most everywhere but prom for the last couple of months. In a white shirt and slacks, he looked downright respectable.
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Chris had gone to the fledgling HQ he and Liz were constructing, just to make sure she was OK. But now it was evening, there were things he wanted to find out. Landing the Pitchoo in the Claremont grounds, he wandered out in his jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the Raven logo. He headed towards Duncan Summers' office, hoping that he was in. This is... going to be an odd conversation. But I need to get some questions answered, or I'll be kicking myself. Cautiously, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. "Sir, are you in there?"
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The Freedom City Medical Center was seen as a safe haven to many before the announcement earlier today. Its staff was measured in the thousands and had state of the art medical equipment; there was no where in the world where you could get better attention. As violence swept the streets, the hospital was soon filled to the point of breaking. Now if Atlas's threat comes to pass, the hospital could very well turn into a feeding ground with a death toll measured in the thousands.
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And then the kids were elsewhere. They were gone from the false reflection of Freedom Hall, standing instead on the lawn of the Lucas family house, standing among the rubble of the battlefield that had killed Mark just a few hours earlier. Except he was alive, standing there amid the group of teens, and Rick and a shell-shocked looking Martha were standing there just a few yards away. "Dad!" Mark broke from the crowd and ran to his father, just as Martha called her husband's name and ran to him. But even as they did so, the teens saw the black, inky shapes beginning to break away from Rick, flaring up into invisibility like rising soap bubbles as they left his body to flare upwards and vanish in the sky. "I'm sorry, I can't stay," he was apologizing over his family's pleas, arms around Mark and Martha both as he slowly, inexorably vanished elsewhere, some place beyond even James's dimensional vision. "The universe can't survive two reality warpers, not and let humanity keep its freedoms." He hugged Martha. "I'll see you again soon. I promise. I love you so much, heart of my heart..." He hugged Mark, his body now so thin as to be translucent. "I love you, Mark." He pulled back, on the edge of vanishing. "You've always been my hero, Mark! Always!" And with that, with a single, devastated cry from Mark's mother as she collapsed into her son's arms, Rick Lucas was gone.
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Flashes of ionic energy propelled the young heroes to an all-too-familiar place; the spots on the sidewalk where they'd watched Mark Lucas die just a few hours earlier. If time itself hadn't changed, that is. The Lucas house was a quiet, peaceful place in an idyllic neighborhood, just as it had always been in the real world for the heroes who'd visited there. An unfamiliar old man, looking as old as Trevor's grandfather in the real world, clad in a sweater-vest and bow-tie was trimming the hedges of the house next door, humming an amiable tune as he worked. There was no sign of the horrific events that had happened in this place earlier today, but of all the places in Freedom City, why would there be?
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A wall of black, whirling dots of ink exploded over everything, battering through James' dimensional barrier an instant after sweeping away the whole world around it. And then... - James Prophet woke up to the gentle beeping of his compu-alarm, the whirring of his electro-bed a gentle reminder of the very pleasant way he'd fallen asleep. He sat up wearily, listening to the hum of the stabilizers that kept his flying saucer in orbit of Earth. Rising to his feet, he caught sight of his face in a reflective surface of polished metal and paused. Wasn't that right? He was Hell-Ion, the half-blooded son of the crown prince of Lucifer-1, the biggest planet in the Antares system whose inhabitants had evolved red skin and ionic-wielding powers to protect themselves from the sun's red radiation. But he'd sided with his mother's people, not his father's, and become the guardian of the planet he'd once hoped to invade. Was that right? No. No, because when he looked in the mirror, he saw who he was. He was James Prophet, prince of Hell. This other life was patchy, with elements of his backstory hard to recall exactly, as if no one had ever bothered to write the story down completely, but he could remember his lives enough to know which one was real. - "Raven." Chris Kenzie woke up in a sitting position, peering through his mask at a very familiar face. His adopted father, Duncan Summers, was looking down at him with one of his characteristic indulgent smiles. "You fell asleep in costume again." Poking him lightly with his cane, he said, "Get upstairs and get some breakfast before your mother has my hide." The laughing acrobat was soon on his feet, running up the steps of the Ravencave to join his adopted mother, Jasmine Summers, for a hearty bacon and eggs breakfast. It was over breakfast, sitting with his new family and laughing and talking, that he caught sight of his face in one of Jasmine's highly polished plates. And the new life suddenly half-melted, as fast as it had come. He could remember patches; his adoption, his home, his family with Duncan and Jasmine, but other things were less sure, as if they'd been changed in an awfully fast hurry. He was Chris Kenzie, Geckoman, and he remembered that much with perfect clarity. - Erin fell thirty feet, landing on her feet in a lush, luxurious lawn. Coming to her senses, she realized she was standing beside the old Freedom Hall, the massive old mansion that had stood there before the Terminus Invasion and had once been the headquarters of the Freedom League. The sound of traffic was loud in her ears. Peering through the giant hedge between her and the street, she saw a scene like something out of an old movie; classic cars, men in suits, and women in needleskirts and pillbox hats that reminded her of pictures of Jackie Kennedy. But she hadn't traveled in time, she saw, not when she saw a young man walking along and listening to his iPod. The last thing she remembered was the end of everything. - Trevor Hunter woke up with a feeling of great loss, the way he always did on the anniversary of his parents' deaths. But Travis was there to comfort and steady him, as always, the greying-haired champion of justice a rock as they carried flowers to the graves of Ted Hunter and Janet Pryce-Hunter. Behind them was Margery, his grandfather's never-failing secretary, who'd stayed young and vital as long as Travis had thanks to their infusions of the Infinity Formula Midnight had taken from Wilhelm Kantor. It was raining just a little, enough that the smooth, polished marble reflected Trevor's face back at him as he and his grandfather recited the oath they'd taken to avenge any unjust killings like those that had taken his father and Travis' son. And it was then he remembered that his parents were alive. They'd abandoned him for Paris, left him in the care of an old man who lived alone, his favorite secretary long since dead. Patchy as the false life was, he could remember details of it, but there was no doubt in his mind about which story was which. He was Midnight II...but not this Midnight II. - Eve woke up as her cousin threw a pillow at her face. "Eeeeve! Wake up! Wake up you silly sleepyhead!" Faith gave her a big raspberry. "You'll be late for your recital!" "Fine, fine," grumbled Eve, who'd never been a morning person. She slid out of bed, headed for the bathroom, and started brushing her teeth. She looked in the mirror, saw the toothbrush blocking her mouth, and remembered. She was the hottest teen musician in Freedom City, she was a powerful psychic teen hero, she had a cute boyfriend with a nice smile. But that was a lie, wasn't it? She was Sage, and she remembered everything.
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Date: May 23rd, 2010 The city was in sad shape, but the day had been saved, but barely. The heroes realized that they needed to better themselves should such a dire situation ever arise again. An old abandoned arena, probably from the hey day of Circus Maximus would prove to be a way to better themselves. This was a venue where the heroes could spar away from prying eyes, on neutral ground and best of all, not worry about hurting anyone. Word was spread through the grapevine in the hero community. Take the evening off to come test your mettle against the other heroes. No one knew definitively who was coming, though heroes had their suspicions. But among all of these unknowns, there was one truth to the whole matter, tonight was going to be an interesting night.
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It was a quiet Memorial Day weekend around Freedom City, one quiet enough that many of Freedom City's superheroes (including its teenage contingent) went out of town to visit their families over the weekend, or go elsewhere with their families to enjoy the long weekend. Claremont Academy was hosting a barbecue for the kids who had no place to go, but there were plenty of other things to do in and around campus. Until, that is, the emergency alert went off: it rang first for the members of Young Freedom, jangling through the communicators they all carried, but then it began beeping frantically all across campus. This was a school emergency, requiring the attention of many of the teenage heroes at Claremont who weren't affiliated with Young Freedom. The Freedom Leaguer Siren had been visiting campus for the holiday, perhaps to visit her old friend Duncan Summers, and she quickly took charge of the emergency. "Everyone who can help, follow me! If you can't get yourself quickly, find a teleporter, flier, or speedster, and follow the distress call." She took out her League transponder and fiddled with it quickly, her scientist's fingers moving fast over the hand-sized piece of high technology. "If you have to get there on your own, use League coordinates 08401-08406. That'll put you in Ashton, right at...oh, by the loa, it's Rick Lucas' house." Siren had been on the old Freedom League; the ageless beauty had been there since the 1960s. She knew Rick Lucas, the former mascot-cum-junior member of the Silver Age League, and of course his son, Claremont student Mark Lucas, very well indeed. "Quickly now!"
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Every now and then people wake up with that feeling in their stomach that the day is going to suck. They’ve got no reason for that belief. As far as they know, this is just another ordinary day, and most of the time it really is just a normal day. Other times however... you wish you had stayed in bed. Today will fall into the latter category. The early morning passes just like any other day. People get up, say good bye to their families and head off to work or to school or run some errands. But then, right before 11 o’clock things turned real sour, real fast. Monsters were lose in the streets, seemingly appearing out of no where. Heedless of the danger, the heroes sprang into action as the first explosion broke the early morning silence. The scene before you was one of wanton destruction. It was a rampage, nothing but the after effects of brutal savagery. And judging from the roars and shockwaves, there was still something out there hell bent on destroying everything it came across. Smoke was already billowing high into the sky, and you could taste the ash in the air.
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Easter break meant a quiet campus around Claremont Academy, though by no means an empty one given the large number of kids who lived in the city or who didn't have a good home to which to commute for the holidays. But fortunately Duncan Summers always had a project in mind for the kids, though it wasn't always one they liked. Still, extra credit was extra credit, not to mention their civic duty. Between the goody-two-shoes, the kids looking to pass their next test, and the small detention crowd, there were a surprising number of Claremont kids waiting around in the science lab when Mark arrived. Looking around at the small crowd, he gave a cheerful, though somewhat diffident hello, before looking around for his friends.
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Chris woke up despondent. Fighting crime without his zappers was... hard. He could take one guy in a fist-fight, easy. Taking three or four? That was much harder. "Giving em back was stupid," he mused, pulling on a bright green t-shirt. "Considering I'm no Raven. I reckon I need to learn from someone who's good at fighting..." He was halfway down to the canteen to get breakfast when... "ERIN!" he shouted, to the shock of passers-by. Chris spun and ran up to the girl's dorms, knocking on Erin's door.
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James was tired of all this cold and snow. He liked warm weather. And there were certain fun activities associated with winter; it still wasn’t his favorite time of the year. It got dreary too. Wore on people too. He’d had enough of it. He couldn’t change the seasons, but he could certainly make some minor adjustments. And now that he had some good friends who’d enjoy the change, he’d make it happen. A rather nice, if small, resort outside of the city was in their slow period. They were more than willing to rent the entire facility to James. A few dozen bungalows, a large pool, a volleyball court. Perfect place for a party of a couple hundred people easy. Saturday and Sunday would be pretty crowded. Not that there would be that many at first of course. Friday was just for a smaller group. Those who knew about their powers mainly, or at least those would wouldn’t reveal anything. Some would be heroes, others not. Well, the others that is. James didn’t really have a secret life given the Family name. James had showed up early on Friday. It took a little while for the snow to melt, the water in the pool to warm up nicely and the ground to dry. It was just like afternoon in the middle of summer, within the confines of the little resort anyway.
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Some sort of mix up (which a good half of Young Freedom blamed Next Gen's antics for), led to their time in the training room being taken up. With some grumbling, they'd headed out to the quad for team manuevers instead. Thus, they were arrayed on the field debating the merits of touch football versus capture the flag for training time. After some debate, capture the flag was decided on. With the gold team comprised of Hellion, Psyche, Wander, and Edge on the gold team and Zephyr, Breakdown, Phalanx, and Geckoman on the blue team. Each one went off to hide their flag to the best of their ability and discuss tactics. As usual, Mark had left the rules confined to 'good sportsmanship' so really, anything went. Psyche trailed after the other three after they'd hidden their flag, leaving it up to Mark to plot out the strategy while she scanned the quad for the other half of the team's and their scrap of blue.
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Date: a few days before February 8th, 2010 Earlier at an Undisclosed Location: Grim sat in her chair, legs dangling; the room was small, lit by a single recessed ceiling fixture, and contained nothing more than a table and four chairs, all cold metal and hard plastic. Her sensitive ears could tell the room was soundproofed, and her amazing nose detected little more than stainless steel and traces of Endust. A single sliding door allowed access to the lifeless chamber. Sure, she was restless, but when the boss tells you to wait, you wait; luckily, the young faeling had numerous ways to amuse herself. She conjured forth an oddly-shaped set of wooden blocks that she precariously balanced on the table in various positions, testing her reflexes, control and the lightness of her touch. And she waited some more...
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Late one crisp Friday in January, the various members of Young Freedom sat around the conference table in their headquarters and listened to the Star of Africa. Edet Chereno was the only Claremont student from Dakana, the richest nation in sub-Saharan Africa, and as he spoke with his faint English accent the daka crystals embedded in his red-tinted body glistened in the light of the overhead lamps. "The White Lion has disappeared." He looked from one to the other of the students there before looking back at Mark, the Young Freedom member who knew the African student best. "The great African hero," Mark murmured. "The King of Dakana. He's a friend of my family too," he added before letting the Star continue. Even Mark looked worried for this one, or at least as worried as Mark ever got. "He was returning from a conference in South Africa, along with the Prime Minister and the Queen, when his plane disappeared completely from Dakanan radar. Two follow-up missions have failed to find him; indeed, one of the rescue missions has now disappeared." Edet swallowed hard. "My country is at peace, but we have many enemies. The other nations tell mad stories about us, that we harbor a secret cure for cancer that is only for the elite, that a king keeps a monster chained up in the mountains, that our wealth comes from trade with the Grue." He rubbed one of the crystals in his skin and said quietly. "We cannot win a war against all our neighbors while at the same time choosing a new king. Even a victory would mean the death of tens of thousands." "And you came to us because teenage American heroes going to Africa will attract less attention than the Freedom League?" Mark had actually not wondered about that question at all; Edet had come to them because they were superheroes, naturally. But Edet had explained it when he'd first approached Edge, and so Mark had decided to bring it up himself. "Yes," agreed Edet. "Even the news of the king's disappearance would be a disaster. We must do all we can to prevent that. And...because it will allow me to come with you," he added. "I would not see my mentor, my patron suffer and be unable to come to his aid. Please, help," he asked them. "Before my homeland falls into a war that none shall win."
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31st October, 2009 The green airship floated down into the street, stopping above a small coffee shop. A hatch opened in its side and a skinny-looking teenager in a green costume leapt out, hands and feet adhering to the wall's sheer brickwork. With a quick scuttling motion, he dropped to the pavement and walked into the shop. They'd seen him coming, and knew his usual order. Since his metabolism was several times faster than a normal human's, to get a caffeine kick he needed coffee strong enough to drop an elephant, with half a bowl of sugar and served in something closer to a bucket than a cup. After chatting to the staff for a minute, he turned to leave. And saw Spellbound, the villain who'd recently attacked him, standing behind him. "Woah!" he pointed, hefting his coffee. "Don't try anything, grudge or not! This coffee is hot!" She just smiled at his and shook her head. "I'm going to a party, and really? You're not worth my time." Geckoman just rolled his eyes and walked past her. She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Hey, didn't you offer to buy me coffee?" She smiled at him, and he started feeling... fuzzy. "So... how about it?" Geckoman closed his eyes for a second. Liz would murder me, I should say no. "Ok... Just no stealing things, or electrocuting me. I've got a party to go to as well." Paying for her coffee, they took a seat in the corner of the shop. "Ok, so... you don't look much older than I am. Why rob banks?" He took a gulp of coffee, instantly feeling the caffeine hum. "Building the sort of inventions I come up with isn't cheap. You stole some of them... why masquerade as a superhero?" She fixed him with a not-quite-glare, not-quite-grin. God, she really has beautiful ey- no, Chris, stop. No. Bad Geckoman! "Guilt, obviously. I'd taken it, couldn't really give it back, so I pretended I'd built it and became a superhero. You show up, claim it's yours, and I believe you." He met her gaze. "But you rob banks. I'm not supplying a known thief with anything." He thought for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't point out the hypocrisy." She just smiled at him again. ... I'm going to Hell. "And yet I'm the only one you've told all this to?" Spellbound took his expression as a yes. "Ironic, eh? But you can't keep a secret forever." She drained her mug, leaned forward and kissed Geckoman dead on the lips. "I guess next time we meet, it's back to fighting." She walked a few steps away, before turning back to the obviously still stunned Geckoman. "Well... unless you had something else in mind?" Raising an eyebrow, Spellbound sashayed away between the tables, aware of the superhero's eyes following her. He pulled off his goggles and rubbed his face. He thought of Liz, how she'd react. He thought of Spellbound, the villainess who now seemed to like him as much as she hated him. Unless it was a game? Nonetheless, he could still taste her lipstick. He put his head on the table. "Can't keep secrets forever." Crap.
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A flash of light erupted from the cafeteria ceiling, bathing the Claremont students in a wash of pure energy as they were pulled away from their seats into another place. Erin, Mike, Mark, and Chris landed on their feet, nearly falling over as the chairs beneath them vanished and they landed with a hard impact on a solid surface a few feet beneath them. They were in a small, battered room stuffed practically to the gills with glowing super-science equipment, a man and a woman standing at a panel on the wall pulling back their goggles with shocked looks on their faces. "Oh, Lord, we got the wrong ones!" called the dark-haired woman. "Ted, quick, reverse it!" "I...I can't!" he called back, a shocked look on his face as the Claremont kids gathered their wits. "Taking this many burned out the dimensional modulator! We're going to have to get another one!"
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James waited for everyone to exit the bus, not saying anything until the entire group had gathered. He’d put the word out he was springing for a trip to the Ocean Heights Amusement Park for his seventeenth birthday, making sure people knew it was free for them to get in at the least. (He didn’t expect gifts, indeed had said to the few people who’d asked that there were to be none.) Since it was only a short drive from their school to the place, he had made sure a bus was provided in case some people needed it. He’d headed over in his own car earlier, making sure things were in order, and was now just waiting. He wasn’t sharing or talking about this until he was ready. Once everyone was gathered, he spoke up. “Ok, I’ve got your all-inclusive cards here. They included passes to the various paid rides so you’re good there too. As a happy birthday bonus, I’ve included a little gift. Each card doubles as a prepaid card you can use in there for various things. Toys, clothes, whatever. Even after you use it, it’ll still get you food and access to the rides. The numbers won’t be bad today, so waiting in lines should be pretty short as well. Basically, just have fun. Everything’s covered.†He quickly handed out the card for people, complete with clips and neckloops. “Alright, get in there.†He really did want everyone to have a good time. He had a few ulterior motives of course, but this was the main focus after all. He'd originally not planned to celebrate this at all but that didn't quite work out. He was part of this group now. With responsibilities to them. Least he do was make sure they had some fun. For as long as he could.
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As this was the first birthday that Alex had more than one friend as well as being the last real teen-birthday, she'd been given a stack of invitations to hand out to 'all her new friends'. So, over the course of the week, she had dutifully passed the invitations on to the classmates she thought might be interested which was mostly the members of Young Freedom. Without real variation, each invitation had been handed out with, "If you're busy or anything, its really no big deal. We're probably just going to watch movies and stuff like that, I think. It's really low key." Then she'd spent the week arguing with her mom, ("No clowns, please!" "My baby's all grown up!" "Mom!") But each invitation invited the teens to a nice house in Hanover with a big yard and a pool for a summer sweet-sixteen party for their resident psychic.
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Summer time was a relatively lazy time at Claremont, with a healthy mix of classes and extra-curricular activities for its unique student body. Today was no exception. For those students interested, the school was providing complementary tickets to a Freedom City Comets game at the Liberty Dome. Even a few students that were living at home for the summer were showing up for today's outing so the entrance to the school was busier than usual as students found their respective shuttles to the game. As the tickets were donations, there were broken up blocks of seats all over the stadium and kids were busy switching tickets with others so that they were sitting near their friends. This of course led to quite a bit of a headache for the few teachers trying to get everyone sorted out. Alex was out in the middle of the activity, blinking at the confusion and trying to search out her friends amongst the chaos.
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It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when Mike came back just in time to see his new roommate on the phone. With the exception of his interest in Alex, Mark was certainly a model roommate by most standards. He'd filled his desktop bookshelf with books that on closer inspection turned out to be the assigned and suggested reading for the summer history classes as well as various other books on the history of Freedom City's superheroes, and usually left his top-of-the-line laptop sitting on his desk when he wasn't out doing things. His half of the walls had a couple of posters up, a retro B&W shot of the old Liberty League and a more recent Alex Ross painting of the League active in the late 1960s. As Mike came in, Mark was sitting in his desk chair, flipping a silver dollar over and over again as he listened intently to whoever he was talking to on his cell. "Yes! Yes, I am here!" Just as he started speaking, a white-toothed grin on his handsome face, the coin he'd been flipping landed perfectly on its edge dead center of his desk. "Yes! All right, I'll print the tickets off pronto. And I love The Entity for all my alternative rock! Woo!" Grinning, he hung up the phone and jumped up, grabbing the coin off his desk and slipping it into his pocket. "Hey Mike, guess what?" He grinned at his roommate, who he'd started treating as his best buddy the minute he walked in. "I was caller number eleven at WNTT, and so I got six free tickets to the Madman Finale concert tonight at FCU! You want to go rock out with the college kids? It'll be great!"
