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  1. GM Saturday, March 11th, 2017 Port Regal, Freedom City 11:21 AM There were those times when one wondered just how they got into the situation they were in. Truth be told, those situations probably were a large part of being a superhero around Freedom City. It usually was best not to think about it too much, yet, somehow, that was exactly what Gretchen McDaniels wanted to do right now. She had gotten roped into this thanks to her girlfriend, and the two of them were now standing in front of a large metal gate blocking the driveway. They had rung already, and somebody would come and get them in just a bit. Tied around some of the metal was bright green paper, cut into fine lines, together with a few balloons hanging off. The estate looked quite large, which in itself wasn’t a bad thing. But then, then it became more and more apparent. A sound most abhorrent. Something that really, really wasn’t necessary today, right? Children.
  2. Silberman's Books, at the corner of Frederick and Pratt. Saturday, February 4th, 2017. 12:05 pm. It was a rather cold and gray afternoon in February, the kind of day when really all you wanted to do was stay in bed, read a book, maybe watch something on Netflix; Gretchen in particular had argued in favor of this last point earlier that morning. But her girlfriend Lynn made the point that if they wanted a long and happy life, they wouldn't be working in retail; this led to a narrowing of the eyes and an icy telepathic rebuke. -Curse your alien faerie logic.- But now it was far too late; they'd been open for two hours, and it would be far too difficult to kill all the customers and hide the bodies. The surly barista was well and truly screwed, so she would just have to glare balefully at the Happy Morning People as they drank their coffee and ate their baked treats. You will all pay for this. For her part, Lynn was in the office, cheerfully going over her emails, seemingly oblivious to her love's virulent misanthropy this fine morning.
  3. This is the OOC thread for Viva Val Verde.
  4. @Heritage It hadn't taken much convincing. All Samuel Steiner had to say to get their attention was "Val Verde," and all he had to say to get their agreement was "Vacation." Three words were all it took to get Lynn Epstein and Gretchen McDaniels to board a plane to the secretive little island a few hour's flight off their nation's southwestern coast. That, and a few days of planning. A employer can't just disappear along with two of her employees in tow and expect everything to keep running like Swiss clockwork in her absence. Schedules needed rewriting, tasks needed assigning, and subtle, only half-joking threats of terrible retaliation for failure needed making before they could leave. All things considered, it was a painless procedure. It could have been even more-so, with the power available to the three. A few spells and they could have stepped from their homes to the island in an instant, without the need for planes, trains, or automobiles. But part of the joy of vacation is the trip, and so they took a passenger jet to the American southwest, arranged a taxi to a small, private airfield, and boarded another plane -- small, but richly furnished -- to the island. The process had been described in great detail by Steiner's letter, now slightly crumpled but none the worse for wear. Written by their would-be host, a man named Gallo, the letter had given the two women only the smallest taste of his personality, the tiniest glimpse of what he'd be like. Sam had tried to fill them in on the rest but some men, like Gallo, defied simple explanation. "He just is," the magician explained. "He's larger than life. Big eater, big drinker, big talker. He and I go way back; I think you'll like him. He was a good friend to me... kind of like how you guys are, now. He took me in when I needed taking in and helped get me back on my feet when I was laying low." Eventually, the flight neared its end, and it wasn't long after that when the three could look out the windows and see it: Val Verde, set like a gleaming emerald on a sea of blue velvet. "My God," said Sam. "It's just as beautiful now as it ever was. I'd almost forgotten." @Blarghy James Warne dusted his hands and reached one of them into his jacket, intent on removing the battered carton of cigarettes nestled into a pocket therein. He was surrounded by the prone bodies of groaning men, their firearms thrown haphazardly around the room by a telekinetic storm of disarmament, with their persons having followed shortly thereafter. He flicked the lighter with a practiced thumb, lit the smoke, and inhaled. Other men might have allowed themselves a smile, if only a bitter one, at the idea of a job well done. Not Adept, not here. Duty called, he answered, and that was all. The cigarette, the smoke in his mouth, the fire in his lungs; that was his smile, his concession to the world. His phone buzzed, once, an indication of incoming text. He reached for it, touched the screen, and brought up the client. TSA pegged your old friend [STEINER, SAMUEL] leaving the country w/ 2 women, it said. [EPSTEIN, LYNN] & [McDANIELS, GRETCHEN]. They're headed for Val Verde. Pack for sunny weather and report for briefing. Sorry. It was signed, at the bottom, by 'B,' which meant it couldn't be ignored. Warne grunted, replaced his phone, and strode towards the exit. He passed police and paramedics on the way, who hustled towards the battered men behind him. When he was out of sight, he took to the skies like a bird of prey and flew back to the city. It was going to be a long day.
  5. Silberman's Books, at the corner of Pratt and Frederick. Saturday, January 7th, 2017 10:30 am. With the panic and mayhem of another holiday season behind them, the crew at the West End's most popular used bookstore could finally breathe a collective sigh of relief. January was typically a month of austerity in the US, especially in the retail sector, which made it a good month to take stock and look back on the year that was, and begin serious planning for the year ahead. The decision to open earlier on weekdays and Saturdays, as well as offering breakfast sandwiches, meant major staffing adjustments and a lot more work for the openers. Despite the passing of the holiday rush, the store still need to hire a few more people. So far, the first Saturday morning was a success as the neighborhood discovered the new adjusted hours and menu items, but the store was just a little strained under the increased customer load. A number of Merges were on-site, though of course only one was currently behind the register; the others were either doing dishes or checking stock in back. Gretch was doing her best to 'play well with others' on bar while Lynn worked the floor, using her amazing social skills to good effect. As usual, the two lovers were going back and forth via mental communication, and as often was the case, it was playful and fairly snarky. I want you to list five things you like about Merge. Really? We're having this conversation? Five things. Fine. ...I'm waiting... She...always smells nice. Wow. Really, that's your opener? She does...cool stuff with her powers sometimes. Cute outfits and stuff...
  6. OOC for this. Everything there is pretty much googleable, I don't expect any of them not to know the terms. To keep things simple I'm using Fomhóraigh for the mythical versions and Formorians for those from the book.
  7. Toraigh, Republic of Eire 20th December 2016 GM Post Tomas O Floinin hating this island a little spur of rock sitting of the coast of Ireland, but it contained a treasure worth more than it's weight in gold so he'd spent months searching. None of the obvious historical or mythic places held the object, so he'd spent month growing to hate the island more as he scowled every millimetre of the place. Finally after all that time he'd found the object so in the middle of the night he ended up digging for the item, in the dark it wasn't that impressive an object, just a circular lump of iron around the size of the dustbin lid. As the light of the torch shone over it he could admire the fine Celtic carvings on it's iron surface, impressive it this object was as old as the myths suggested, more so for the planks of wood that it sat on that look like they'd been felled only yesterday. It was the Eochair Balor ar, Balor's Key and if the stories were true it was could hold a place so no one could enter through any magical means. It was ironic then that the weather, as always on this accused island, meant he wouldn't be able to leave until after the holidays. But still what harm would it be to wait a few more weeks?
  8. Silberman's Books. Sunday, December 11th, 2016. Sundays were sleepy at Silberman's, since the store didn't open until noon on the weekends; this largely eliminated the early coffee rush, but meant the folks who came in now were looking to take their time and stay awhile. The sales floor looked very Christmas-y, and the fragrance of the decorated Scotch pine filled the store. Lynn was in her office checking emails while Gretchen sat perched on her stool behind the counter, reading a magazine; her half trendy/half 'screw you' ensemble pegged her as a former art student, but nonetheless a playful pair of reindeer antlers were perched on her head.
  9. Silberman's Books. Wednesday, Novermber 30th, 2016. 11:00 am Even though it was probably her riskiest hire ever, Lynn was optimistic about hiring Merge; coverage would not be much of a problem anymore, and she felt that once she adjusted her groove a bit to match the tone of the store, the colorful duplicator would bring a lot to the team. But as tempting as a full staff of Merges was (Oh, the looks on the faces of the old Jews of the neighborhood; it would almost be worth it!), the changeling knew she still needed a few more warm bodies. The store was starting to slow down a bit from the morning coffee-and-danish rush, but a handful of regulars were still sipping their coffee. Maddy had the morning off, so it was Lance and Gretchen behind the bar/counter while Lynn walked the floor; today, she wore green curly toed shoes, a bright green sweater and comfy jeans under her brown Silberman's apron, all topped with a red Santa hat and a pair of cute 'elf ears' (nudge nudge, wink wink). The store was decorated in old-fashioned Christmas decorations, including a big Scotch pine covered in lights, and a train set chased itself around the table in the children's section.
  10. Silberman's Books. Monday, November 28th, 2016. 10:00 am. If you worked in retail, the holiday season was always stressful; it had a way of simultaneously bringing out the best and worst in people, and it seemed to go on forever. Since she'd reopened the store in 2014, owner Lynn Epstein had seen business steadily increase each year; their numbers were never going to be amazing, especially given her insistence on paying her employees a decent wage, but the fact that they weren't always operating at a loss made her happy. Of course, considering the large nest egg she'd brought back from Otherworld, she could afford to operate at a modest loss for years if necessary, and she wouldn't even mind; reopening Silberman's was never about making money. But if she didn't want her employees to rebel and hoist her from the yardarm, she desperately needed to hire some holiday help, and hopefully keep a few of them on permanently. Which wasn't always easy when you ran a store that had a whispered reputation for weird goings on... Since she'd put the ad up over the weekend, Lynn had already gotten several resumes via email, which she was currently reading over in her office; she had her 'power team' this morning, Lance on bar and Gretchen at the register. It was early yet, so it was mostly the coffee and newspaper crowd of old Jewish men from the neighnorhood, as well as one or two 'hipster beards' sipping their espresso as they checked their email on their Powerbooks. Need any help out there? No. We're good for now.
  11. With the holiday season upon us, business is startling to pick up at Silbernan's Books, and owner Lynn Epstein (aka Grimalkin) could use a hand or two. New arrivals in Freedom looking for a way in or old familiar faces looking for a change are all welcome. Retail experience in your backstory is nice, but not a prerequisite. This could be either a temporary thing or part of your ongoing secret identity, your choice. The store's Reputation is now listed on Grim's rep sheet.
  12. 1:43 PM 18/11/2016 Silberman's Books, West End Freedom City An old 1974 Dodge Monaco sedan pulled up in the alley beside the bookstore - the door requiring a few kicks before it popped open. A young man in a pageboy cap and worn out old pea coat clambered out, stretching; Morgan eyeballing the door and sighing. Stupid prudence. If he'd blown half the jack from the Baron job on getting his car's body tuned up along with the engine... Meh. Svartalves never liked extras. He reached into the back and took out a duffel bag, along with a notepad; checking the listed work order. Package number three, basic alarm array. He referred to it as the Blinky Light Package - mostly since unless the buyer picked up additions, it was basically a bright blinky light if anyone used magic in their vicinity. On the positive side, it was nice and cheap, and usually helped get people past the whole 'magic in business' hump. That being said, honestly? He'd have done this one for free. Scuttlebutt said Silberman's was a good place, and run by a lady who was firmly on the side of the angels, if you could trust the local kids. Still, guy's gotta eat, right? ...though that didn't necessarily stop him from adding a few, er, 'weekly special discounts' onto the bill. Even if the weekly special had only been declared about, oh, say, five minutes into their phone call. Of course he'd planned those specials all along, it was just a coincidence they came up then. And nobody had any proof otherwise. The young man jogged up the front stoop and knocked on the door. Giving a bit of that old-school no-entry-unless-invited thing.
  13. GM Holt Hotel Midtown, Freedom City, NJWednesday, September 28th, 2016 12:00 PM The terrific Holt Hotel blends comfortably into the downtown area of Midtown's residential district. Despite being considered a budget hotel, the warmly decorated rooms seem to have a sleek almost futuristic furnishing style. Bathroom's are oasis inspired with a splash of color. Room service was closed after 8pm, but while active the food was a passable mix of American cuisine. Despite the fantastic amenities, at the end of the day it is still a value hotel. Far less luxurious than the sort of place one would expect multiple time bestselling author to hang his hat. Much less kill a woman. Yet a cursory glance of Enest Steinbeck's hotel room in the Holt Hotel had a story to tell. A story of a beheaded woman, her head nowhere to be found, posing on the bed. An eerie and outright disturbing scene that was quite literally a recreation of Steinbeck's first novel's big murder scene. No one had an account for Steinbeck's whereabouts. Steinbeck's last novel was released a decade ago. Coupled with his well known recent drinking habits, the media circus had already painted a villain. Except, there was absolutely no trace of the author. And no visible signs that he had ever left the room.
  14. Not sure if we'll really need this, but a better place for stuff than just doing PMs. For the record, I am a very bad chess player, so I don't think we should get very detailed about Gretchen and Lawrence's game
  15. Silberman's Books. August 31st, 2016 10:05am. It was just after 10, and the forecast was brutal; the store had only been open for a few minutes, and it was already a furnace, because the AC was down and it would be a few hours before the HVAC repairman could make it over. This and the large standing sign in front of the door warning about the lack of AC kept a lot of the regulars from coming in for their morning cup, which was sad, but seeing that many of them were elderly, Lynn that it as best that they knew from the get-go. Of course, due to their respective powers, neither Lynn nor her partner Gretchen was uncomfortable, so they pretty much had the store to themselves so far this morning; Lynn was using it as a chance to catch up on paperwork in her office, while Gretch sat on a stool behind the counter reading Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, a collection of reviews by legendary rock critic Lester Bangs. Normally she'd be on her laptop, but without working AC she was concerned about the poor thing overheating. Several industrial standing fans were set up around the store to offer some relief for any would-be shoppers, and an oscillating desk fan perched on the counter next to Gretchen, occasionally stirring her hair with its breeze.
  16. Above Silberman's Books. Monday, August 1st, 2016. 11:36 am Lynn unlocked the door and pushed it wide open as she stepped into the living room/dining nook of the one bedroom apartment Tona recently vacated; the room was bright and airy, with hardwood floors, white painted walls and a working gas fireplace flanked by built-in bookshelves. Salvaged stained glass windows on the east wall added color and a charming rustic quality. "Okay, so this is the front room; that pillar sort of designates the dining area, but obviously you can use it however you want. There's no central heating or air, but the radiator heat is free and works great, and you've got ceiling fans and an AC unit in the bedroom." Gretchen followed in, pointing out the small flat-screen monitor on the wall near the door. "I've upgraded the security system. Multiple cameras, motion and heat sensors, extra sturdy locks."
  17. The inevitable OOC thread!
  18. GM Federal Plaza, City Center. Wednesday, August 10, 2016. 10:00 am. As hokey as he knew it was, Deputy Director Jack Spaulding had a soft spot for naval metaphors, a perhaps inevitable side effect of a life spent on the sea. His immaculate office on the 23rd floor of the Federal Building had an impressive view of City Center, and he liked to think of this office as the 'crow's nest' of the USS AEGIS, where he might spy a threat long before the rest of the ship was in danger. Of course, the nautical decor didn't help any, such as the model of a Los Angeles-class submarine on top of his bookcase, the turned brass desk lamp next to his computer monitor, or the print of the Battle of Mobile Bay on the wall. In truth, he still had the look of a captain about him, the pale blue eyes and distinguished steel-gray hair granting him an air of command. But Naval Intelligence was long behind him; now he scanned the horizon for an entirely different sort of threat... His phone chimed, and he swiveled away from the window to press the intercom button. "Yes, Sarah?" "Agent Black to see you, sir." "Excellent, send him in."
  19. August 6th, Saturday Evening Freedom City, the Boardwalk Opening Night! Sir August Card has great pleasure in announcing The High Steaks Reopening Night August 6th Entrance $500 All inclusive food and drink Complementary $50 Chips for Gambling All night Event Places Limited This is a Card Productions Ltd Event Please refer to rules and regulations etc with regards to High Steaks gambling and conduct Strictly Black Tie Only No Riff-Raff So said the "open" invitation flyer. Of course, not many could afford such a swish event. And besides, the flyers had a habit of being onlcy circulated amongst the rich and powerful of Freedom City. Or, ideally, the rich and powerful. The last words of the flyer were often alluded to with an unspoken emphasis. After all, places were limited, and choices would have to be made. The High Steaks had been closed for a few months, done up, and looked even more resplendent than ever. It had always had an excellent reputation, but now, it seemed, it was gunning for a world class one. Stretch Limos dropped off well dressed couples, or singles (and even a well known playboy with a dame on each arm). The building looked neither completely modern or completely antiquated. Built in the 70s, it kept the best of that era and had styles both before and after bolted on. Perhaps it shouldn't have worked, but the refurbishment had clearly involved some excellent architects, artists, and builders, and it most certainly looked the part, in and out...
  20. Heritage

    AEGIS NPCs?

    Hi all! So I'm looking to run a thread involving Handyman and Grim, and I was wondering if there are any well established AEGIS NPCs, especially in commad positions, that I might use as his superior?
  21. Lynn Epstein's Apartment. Saturday, June 18th, 2016. 2pm. It was a very mild and pleasant late spring day; there was no need to run the AC, so instead Lynn and Gretchen had just opened all the windows and turned on all the ceiling fans, so that cool breezes and succulent cooking smells wafted through every room. The weekend before, Gretch had offically moved in, and at her insistence the apartment now possessed real live, actual furniture; some of them were ancient hand-me-down pieces that once bellonged to her late grandmother back in Maine, all dark, massive and brooding. Others were recent additions from the Ikea out in Ashton, which they had bought together, because that's what couples do. It took a while to get used to, but Lynn was starting to enjoy the smell of history on the old stuff pleasantly mixing with the new stuff that smelled of dorm rooms and promise. What was a bit harder to get used to were Gretchen's ferrets, Otto and Bosco; they tore around the apatment like they were rats on crack, their long, loping bodies wriggling into every corner imaginable, terrifying Lynn's three cats DB, Mafia and Plaque Attack, who currently spent most of their time hiding out in the bedroom. The ferret cage stood in one corner of the living room, a symbol of the end of the Era of Feline Domination. Out on the rear deck was the Weber grill that Gretchen had also insisted on, which was having its trial run this weekend; it hadn't been fired up just yet, because Lynn wanted everyone to have a little time to have a drink and kibbitz. As for the couple themselves, each was representing their unique stylistic tastes. Lynn wore sandals, a short denim skirt and a creamy, sleeveless cotton blouse; her hair was up and out of the way, indicating that she was both hard at work and comfortable enough with the guests to reveal her pointed ears. Meanwhile, Gretchen wore boots, loose cut jeans and a black vintage Lou Reed t-shirt; surprisingly, her hair was also up, showing a rare glimpse of her graceful neck. The two women worked together smoothly like a well-oiled machine, a machine that frequently stopped to smile or affectionatly touch a shoulder. Their guests would be here soon.
  22. Silberman's Books. Monday, April 25th, 2016. 9:56 am. Back in January, Lynn Epstein offered Samuel Steiner, a stage magician, ex-convict and would-be crimefighter, what amounted to his 'dream job': the opportunity to catalogue and itemize the collection of his hero Ira Silberman, formerly known as the Amazing Al-Kazar. To say that he couldn't wait to start his first day would be the understatement of the century. Yet wait he did; in February, the departure of her long-suffering assistant manager Kiki Knox came as a shock, and Lynn sent him an apologetic letter explaining that she wanted to bring her new AM up to speed and get everyone settled into a new routine before adding any additional staff. That the letter contained a check for eight hundred dollars did something to soften the blow. Then March came, and another apologetic letter arrived, with the same-sized check and a promise of work in April. Now April was almost over, and Sam feared his amazing opportunity had gone up in smoke, but then a third letter arrived on Friday, as apologetic as before, but now letting him know that he would finally be able to start that Monday, bright and early at 10 am. And yay, another check! - - - "Does he get an apron?" Lynn briefly looked up from her desk, where she was typing up a last minute email; her assistant manager and now partner in all things Gretchen McDaniels was limply holding up a brown standard-issue Silberman's apron, a bored expression on her face. "No, he does not get an apron; he will be an apron-less freak." "If I have wear one, he should, too. We should all be equal partners in discomfort and embarrassment." "Technically, he's not an employee of the store; he's an independent contractor. Plus he'd look really stupid with that thing over his coat and tails, doncha think?" Gretch looked over her shoulder back towards the sales floor and shook her head. "You really think he wears that all the time?" "Yep! Sleeps in it, showers in it, makes sweet, sweet love in it..." "Eww. Thanks for that disturbing visual." Lynn beamed cheerfully. "You're welcome! Now go ahead and open up while I finish typing this." "Yes, O master." Hunching forward and dragging her foot, Gretch lurched towards the front door like a hunchbacked assistant; behind the bar, Lance Bettendorfer, barista extraordinaire, cocked an eyebrow at her performance. "Everything alright there, Gretch?" "Breaking in some new boots," she deadpaned. Once she got to the door, she flung it open dramatically, still in Igor mode. "Enter, at your own risk!" She almost managed an expression there.
  23. GM The Cthaat Aquadingen was a rare book. There were only three known copies, each bound in human skin that were said to sweat on occasion. The three copies resided in Britain, the only publically known one was in the British Museum, and under lock and key (and possibly more). The other two copies were rumoured to lie with private collectors of the occult. There were only three copies. The fourth copy had wound its way to Silvermans book store. Bound in what looked like human skin, written in Latin, the book was a scrawl of writings on Dagon and the Deep Ones, Atlantis, the Serpent people, and full to the brim of horrible rituals and more horrible insinuations. And into the bookstore, soon after its mysterious arrival by untraceable postal delivery (complete with shaky hand writing “DO NOT READ, KEEP SAFE!”), stepped a man most keen to purchase this rare tome. A brown hued man with straggly brown hair, one glass eyes, and the other eye human but glassy. He was tall, stooped, and had a fixed grin. He licked his lips a little too much. His tailoring was good, however, wearing an excellent cut three piece suit. “I am looking for a most rare book. The Cthaat Aquadingen. I am purchasing for a private collector. I can pay you a handsome price, as many dubloons as you can carry!” he said in a firm voice. He carried a grey-steel box under his hand, and tapped it nervously, like it was alive.
  24. Silberman's Books. Friday, February 5th, 2016. 1:30 PM. There was a gentle tapping on the door to Lynn's office; the changeling looked up from her computer and called out, "Come in!" Her assistant manager Kiki stepped timidly inside; today she wore a straw boater for some reason. "Do you have a minute? it's...it's kind of important." "Sure, sure, have a seat! What's up?" Kiki took the offered seat, then just stared down at her boots for several seconds until Lynn grew concerned. "Is...everything alright, Keek?" The dancer slowly shook her head. "No. No it is not." She looked up and Lynn, the woman she used to think of as one of her best friends, and sighed. "And it hasn't been for some time." By now, Lynn was very worried and she began to get up from her seat. "Omigod, what's wrong? Is your mom-" Kiki motioned for her boss to keep her seat. "It's nothing like that. it's just...this isn't working for me anymore." She indicated the books on the wall with a wave of her hand. "The store, working for you..." And suddenly things became much more clear. "This is about the Mrs. Nussbaum thing, isn't it?" "No. Well, yes, kind of; it's when things first started going off the rails." "You're quitting, aren't you?" "Yes, I am. After the Nussbaum thing, I said I would give it a year; if things went back to normal within a year, i would stick around, but they haven't, so..." Then took a deep breath and forged ahead. "if anything, they've gotten worse; you made Gretchen your 'personal crime-fighting assistant', and now we're always butting heads about everything. And then you hire this bizarre wizard character-" "Magician, actually." "Without even consulting me, which just proves my opinion means nothing to you anymore." Tears were now welling up in her eyes. "And I've been shot, and everyone but me has super-powers, and I don't feel safe. And I don't even know you anymore." Lynn didn't say anything for a long time, stung with guilt over how badly she'd treated her friend over the past year. Finally, she spoke, her voice choked with emotion. "I am...so sorry, Keek. Do you...do you have anything set up? Another offer?" Kiki slowly nodded. "Yes. James Dupont of the Riverside Dance Company asked me to be assistant director; I already said yes" All other thoughts flew away as the bookseller could only be happy for her friend. "Keek, that's, that's huge! Congratulations!" Despite herself, Kiki smiled warmly at Lynn. "I know. And thanks." But then the feelings of loss and helplessness returned. "But what am I gonna do? Without you-" "Without me, Gretchen will make an amazing assistant manager; you know it, i know it, and sadly she really knows it. You'll do fine." "I guess...so is this goodbye goodbye, or...?" "I'll still come around; because you know-" And they said it at the same time, through big, goofy tear-stained grins. "Former employees always save fifteen percent!"
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