Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'ic'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome to Freedom City
    • Campaign Discussion
    • Character Building
    • Character Bank
    • Freedom City News
  • The City of Freedom
    • Downtown Freedom
    • North Freedom
    • South Freedom
    • West Freedom
    • Other Areas Around Freedom
  • The World of Freedom
    • The Lands Beyond
    • The Worlds Beyond
    • The Realms Beyond
    • Non-Canon Tales
  • Out of Character Discussion
    • Off-Panel
    • Archives

Categories

  • Getting Started
    • Templates
    • About the Site
  • People of Freedom
    • Player Characters
    • Non-Player Characters
    • Super-Teams and Organizations
  • Places of Freedom
    • Freedom City Places
    • Earth Prime Places
    • Interstellar Places
    • Multiversal Places
  • History of Freedom
    • Events
    • Timelines
    • People
  • Objects of Freedom
    • Items
    • Ideas

Categories

  • Player Guide
  • House Rules
  • Sample Characters

Calendars

  • Community Calendar

Found 1,079 results

  1. High Note IC

    GM Prologue: Sometime in the Summer of 2017... ...The office of Amanda St. Croix, Freedom City It was a hot day, and the air con buzzed furiously. Amanda St. Croix was high on coffee, her blonde hair was its predictable mess and the roots were showing. She was a tall, thin, hyperactive woman full of restless energy and inventiveness but still learning the ropes as the manager of Valerie Cain. "Coffee?" she asked Valerie, holding two cups of coffee. Both were for her. Without waiting for an answer, she pressed on, alive with jitters. "Look, I got something pretty mad, but you may like it. But risky, but will make the nudes, I mean the news, big time...." she said, caffeine inspiring her characteristic rambling and Freudian slips. "Got some artistic savante guy, thinks he is breaking new paradigms or something. Totally dick, really. Cranio-rectal fistula. But I gotta hand it to him, he has some skills. Anyway, he wants to film a rock concert at the top of the Burj Khalifa. You know, that mad tall tower in the middle of the desert? If you don't mind a five star holiday, some sand up your backside, and the fact they live in the goddamn middle ages there when it comes to girls and boobs, I mean dudes, then you have a media frenzy that will go down in the history books...." she said, dribbling every word out through coffee and nerves.
  2. Signal in the Darkness

    Asteroid 60339-Bixby, The Asteroid Belt, Sol System Asteroid 60339-Bixby was an unremarkable object in Earths solar system on recently found after 5 million years in the darkness it would have remained unremarkable until humanity made it's into space. But a passing ESA probe had picked up a faint signal of alien origins coming from the asteroid, they'd passed it onto the Freedom League who'd passed it onto CoVic station. Seeing as it was probably a fairly innocuous signal, many systems had scattered remains of various von Neumann machines of pass explorations, the Praetorian had arranged for to check it out on their regular patrol. Just in case anything was found they'd arranged for a representative of the Sol System to meet them before they reached the asteroid itself. Everything seemed routine, though this was like nothing they could have possibly imagined...
  3. Spiraling Shape (IC)

    December 9, 2017 Freedom City Maritime Museum The Waterfront Alexa Xieng's homework had taken her to the Freedom City Maritime Museum, a small private museum that discussed the history of Freedom City's shipping industry. There was actually quite a bit of history to see here, much of it going far beyond the age of heroes that had begun in the late 1930s. In her walkthrough so far she'd passed everything from a birchbark canoe like those used by the Lenape Indians who'd once lived all up and down the New Jersey coast to the cunningly hand-crafted model of one of the Nantucket whalers that had docked at Freedom's ports from the late 18th century on. The museum's tour guide, an older man with a white-streaked beard and a merchant marine cap, was obviously much more eager to talk about this part of Freedom's history than the "new wing." "Don't get me wrong," said "Captain Craig" a little awkwardly as he glanced into the newly constructed wing of the museum, its metal-walled rooms a sharp contrast to the rebuilt Victorian brick that made up most of the rest of the museum - which had once been a shipping baron's house, a century or so before Alexa's birth. "We certainly support Freedom City's hero population - but there isn't much to say about their maritime history. We discuss the Deep One invasion and the Atlantean one last year, of course," he went on as the two of them crossed the central foyer of the museum to the "hero wing", "but you can find that on your local websites. But don't let the curator hear me say that," he added with a wink. "We do have some fine artifacts preserved," he added, "all of them donated to us by the Freedom League. Behind Captain Craig, peering through the doors of the new wing, Alexa could make out the newer exhibits the man was speaking about - the Deep One invasion of 2011 being one of the main centers of attraction. In fact, a nearly intact Deep One suit of battle armor was in a glass case at the center of the room - but a half-dozen seeming-'tourists' were in the process of opening the case! The half-dozen men, all of them in Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts that clashed oddly with the chilly weather outside, were intent on their work - and hadn't noticed them yet.
  4. Susshek System, Former Asshui Worlds System It was one hell of a mission. There had been a few reports about what the Asshui had been fleeing from, some more detailed than others, some more trustworthy. And occasionally, there were news of things happening in their former systems. But so far, all of the were word-of-mouth, and without much evidence going for them. There was ample reason to change that fact, and thus a group of refugees, supporters and a few organizations had decided to send out multiple scouts, to enter the home systems of the fleeing peoples. They had a simple mission; to document what was happening, and to get back with as much information as possible. Finding people that were both trustworthy enough, preferably with their own method of transport and not opposed to doing it wasn’t easy, a large part of the muscle available in the Sharahazad Sector, the hotbed of the crisis, lacked one of the two qualities. One of the few teams that had been sent out was that of Starshot - trusted enough and in possession of a suitable craft - and Bliss, who’d been suggested by one of the sponsors as somebody who was “trustworthy enough”, whatever that meant. So far everything had gone smooth, there hadn’t been a single encounter. But now the Xeno, Starshot’s starship, had entered the system that the two of them had been tasked with scouting. It had been a former industrial hub, not on the scale of some of the ones in known space, but large enough to be economically important. And only a few refugees had managed to make their way out, meaning there was a lot of interest in figuring out just what was going on. And in order to do that, the planet Susshek was probably the right place. Now they just had to get there …
  5. Nature versus Nesting

    December 18th. 10:30ish AM. Winter break for Claremont. And Alumni Elias Silvestri was asked to do a thing. Which meant they were desperate, or they didn't know how to related to Jann. Given Elias was viewed with... less than stellar perspective, he didn't understand how he could help. Other than the telepath and outsider thing. But there he was sitting in a little camp in Wharton, arms folded, as he was perched in a folding camp chair, near the fire. In a bit of an makeshift sort of shelter he was proficient in making, and in his heavy, reinforced jeans, and green flannel shirt, he waited for Jann. His eyes locked on the fire waiting. Talk, he supposed, help. Or something. Not that they gave him much to work from, so it was probably as much a lesson for him, as it was for the student. F***ing Summers always playing these little games. Even when it didn't objectively help as much as hinder. So he waited.
  6. Lunar London

    GM Dec 5th, 5.48 AM, Freedom City Junior Ballet "Special delivery, special delivery!" A young man, not yet in his twenties, just off his bicycle, came into the practice hall waving an envelope. It was a chilly day, but he was sweating. Part of it, surely, from a morning of bicycling, but perhaps coming into a hall full of lithe women stretching might also excite his inexperienced hormones. He tried not to look too much, and read out the address on the envelope. "Miss Cor-reen Conrad? Miss Correen Correen Con-rad?" he blurted, looking around without trying to let his eyes linger on any one form in particular. A few dancers gave a little laugh at his glowing cheeks. The envelope in question looked rather old, and had elegant inked handwriting on. It felt, and indeed was, rather antique.
  7. Good Company and Good Cheer [Open]

    As well as being a responsible city Freedom City was also a place that knew how to let it's hair down, and like everything, Superheroes liked to party. Thought of often very different beliefs, many of them gathered to celebrate the Holiday season in the superhero equivalent of an Office Party. At various point through Freedom City heroes, in and out of costume gathered to celebrate the Holiday season together Morley's Pub, West End
  8. Soup of Human Kindness [Open]

    Whilst like any city Freedom City has its problems it also took great care to help those who were struggling for a variety of reasons. Many generous people gave up their time to try and help those in need, an especially at a time like this when not only was it the holiday season but the temperatures tended to drop. As with most things in the city, Superheroes were very much involved giving their time and energy to help make a difference in whatever ways they could. Temporary Soup Kitchen, Liberty Park Robin's Nest Senior Care, Lincoln, Freedom City
  9. London Calling

    GM London, 1850 'Twas a most chilly London night. The Yuletide season had kicked off with a dusty snow that was already becoming black from the machinations of London. A frost in the air, an ice on the roads. The sun was lost in grey clouds and all in all it was a cold, bleak day. Such grim and grime as there was (and verily, it was plentiful) was soon interrupted by a crashing sound at Leicester square, followed by a splashing sound. Victim of the Darwin-XC virus (a chronologically infused variant of that most potent viral agent), the massive hulk of Dreadnought came crashing through time itself, slap bang (yay, a bullseye in this matter) in the middle of the nineteenth century without warning or preamble. There was a crunch as he collided with Nelson's column to most ruinous effect, and a splash as he cut through ice into the fountains and pond beneath. Whatever disorientation such violent motion may (or may not) have caused, 'twas nought but a second until all could see the mighty column of Nelson crack and start to fall, breaking at midpoint. And screams from those about to be crushed my the mighty masonry!
  10. Better Red than Dead (IC)

    November 7th, Morleys Pub, West End. The snow fell across Freedom City like a smothering blanket in a surprise Nor'easter which hammered the proud city with over 24 inches of snow in less than six hours. Across the city, old timers were reminiscing about the Megalopolitan Blizzard of 83 and telling anyone who would listen that this paltry bit of snow hardly counted. Emergency services were out in force and with the help of many of the cities more civil minded heroes, had most of the essential services running to most of the city. The gusting winds and blistering cold at least had the tendency to keep most of the citizens indoors and those few who ventured out, seemed to find solace and company in the many cozy pubs and taverns which mostly managed to stay open. Morley's pub, home to many of the cities finest, was one such place. Offering warmth and spirits even as the storm raged just outside the wood paneled walls. The crowd was sparse, but lively, with most of them relishing the chance to have a day off their normal schedules. Sean Morley wiped clean a few glasses before walking over to the fireplace to drop another log into the glowing warmth. While it didn't really put out a ton of heat, it just made the place seem more comforting and on a day like today, that's what people were looking for.
  11. Spider on the Roof [OPEN]

    Downtown Emerald City It wasn't the tallest building in Emerald City, that like his ego was probably Mars's, it was even easily accessible from the ground with a little climbing. But it probably had one of the best views of the city at night a stream of colourful lights down towards the Columbia River. It wasn't obvious how good the view was unless you happened to be someone who spent there time up in the air, so was a secret to many who spent most of there time down on the ground. And right now one of those people was enjoying the view.
  12. Still Standing

    At first glance, the tall man leaning against the exterior of the imposing Freedom League headquarters, looked like he might be smoking far too close to the building's entrance. A closer look, however, would reveal that the ember dancing along his tattooed knuckles wasn't connected to anything at all, and certainly not a cigarette. Bowing to the winter weather, Ray wore his leather jacket over the tank top and BDU's that he worked in. Immortality did not, sadly, provide an immunity to cold and while the spark of light in his hands kept his fingertips warm, he'd have to summon something far larger and far more eye catching to heat anything more than his fingertips. Technically, he was finished offering his 'consultation', although Ray didn't think that he'd provided anything unknown to the magic-users attached to the Freedom League, but Ray was trying to be a bit more environmentally conscious and take advantage of the city's public transportation system. His good intentions, however, were going straight out the window if the damn bus took another ten minutes.
  13. (IC) Eat at Joe's

    The Fen's were known for many things, violence, poverty, crime, and much more. However, one bright spot in an otherwise bleak spot of the city was Joe's Diner. Established shortly after the Fen's became associated with the theater district, it's combination of cheap mostly decent fare attracted an eclectic crowd especially after a show. It was then that the artsy types looking for authentic diner fare mingled with those looking to get something to line their stomach for a fraction of what they'd spend at some of the more well to do establishments. For most of the people in the Fens, Joe's was fine dining and had a steady but sparse set of clientele. Frank Constanzio, know to the regulars as Frankie stood behind the counter with a scowl on his face, his meaty hand resting next to a sign that read, 'I ain't Joe'. Tonight was going to be that kind of night, one of those Broadway shows was letting out and pretty soon they'd be swamped with every manner of patron imaginable. If they didn't count on the business, he'd have closed every theater night as he didn't need the trouble and aggravation that it brought. He wondered how many times he'd have to let people know that they didn't have tofu anything and sighed while flipping a leathery looking rib-eye that would go in their signature steak sandwich. Well, it was as close to a signature dish as this place would have. Really, fast and cheap was the motto and he'd be damned if he was going to up sell, upscale, or whatever else those cooking shows said restaurants needed to do. With a shake of his head, he slapped the semi tough, but flavorful piece of meat onto some bread next to the bed of greasy looking fries and slid the plate across the counter, "Moe! Order up! One roast on toast!" Of course, it was hard to hear him as a FCPB car came blazing down the street sirens blaring as it descended into the chaos that was the fens. When it had finally passed he shouted again, "Roast on toast is up! Moe!"
  14. Maybe I'm Blind (IC)

    Summer 2017 It was a beautiful summer day in Emerald City, Oregon - especially if you stood here on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, far from the noisy, delicious minds of the city and enjoyed the peace and solitude of crashing waves at the base of this seaside cliff. The beaches here weren't like the ones Sensus had known back on the Jersey coast, much rockier and colder, but they had a wild beauty all the same. "Excuse me, miss. Did you need some help?" Turning behind her, silhouetted by an east-rising morning sun, Sensus looked up to see Citizen - the most famous superhero in Emerald City. For his part, Citizen's early morning flight had let him spot this girl by the edge of seaside cliffs that had taken the life of more than one young man or young woman in the last few years. There was a fence - but it wouldn't be hard for someone that small to slip underneath it. At first glance, he'd assumed this was a lost child - but she clearly wasn't too far from his own early twenties, though his black costume and glowing blue chest symbol marked him as a superhero.
  15. Room of Danger (seventh edition)

    The scene…well, actually, neither Valerie Cain (alias, among other names, the heroic Wayward) nor Yamazaki Moe (aka the vetted rookie hero Sensus) quite knew where they were. Or how they’d gotten to this random city street. The street was lined with restaurants, bars, and clubs of seemingly every possible variety, and tonight business was booming. Before either heroine could reflect on what was going on here, a door burst open to one of the music clubs. Sobbing people poured out of it in one of several ways; either staggering as if their muscles wouldn’t work properly, attempting to return their dinners and drinks to sender, fleeing in terror, careening off walls and cars as if blind and deaf, or (worst of all) clutching their ears in clear physical agony. Clearly, something had gone horribly wrong in that establishment.
  16. Do students ever show up early? (OPEN)

    Monday, November 27th 2017: 9:00am, Claremont Academy Zhu got out of the small old Honda Civic and had to just stop and look. While she already had looked over the school with an illegally appropriated satellite, checked every photo that was in a cloud anywhere, and had as much comprehensive knowledge about her new school as she could possibly get, there was something about the majesty of the campus that still overwhelmed her. It was a stark reminder that while information was good, there was nothing that could quite replace actual experiences. Perhaps she would have to do some research into why reality was so real. Around her, the suprisingly warm November day had a glorious feel to it and the students were taking advantage of the Indian Summer, perhaps anticipating the winter to come. "<Go ahead, we're proud of you. You can do this>," her mother gently chided to her in Mandarin from the passenger seat. Zhu, no Alexa, she had to keep reminding herself that, turned to her mother and smiled, "<Thank you for your sacrifice. I will honor your choice.>" Her mother waved once and, as neither of them were fond of long emotional goodbyes, drove off leaving Alexa standing staring at her new school. Brushing back her hair, she took a deep breath and muttered to herself in slightly accented English, "this is where I should be." She knew the path to the registrar's office and began heading across the well manicured lawns not bothering to hide her wide eyed wonder at the diverse student body. Without taking the phone out of her pocket she pulled up the agenda that had been sent too her. It was rather vague, something that annoyed her, but contained at least a starting point to her new journey. Of course, in the name of efficiency, her parents had dropped her off nearly a full hour before she had to be anywhere, but if her schools in Shanghai taught her anything, it was that punctuality was to be observed to the exclusion of nearly all else. She was certain that the Dean would feel the same way.
  17. Bonfire with Vanity

    7:00 PM, December 2nd.. Amir al-Misri's beachfront mansion. Nestled into the Northbank was the nameless mansion-slash-semi vacation location of Amir al-Misri. For thanksgiving weekend he had loaned it to his daughter, Corinne Conrad, so she and her friends from school could have a beach bonfire party. Something he was told that the kids in the Northeast part of the states (and Jersey!) did. He had no first hand knowledge of such, but it was sort of the thing right? Corinne didn't know any better herself, but figured a party might smooth things over with some people who had bad first interactions. She also didn't assume, saying she had food and such, but people could bring what they want, if they wanted. Right now, though, she was tending to the bonfire she had started, and make sure that there was nothing near it that could start a fire, and she had built a fire pit around it (with judicious use of power, as well as shaped the sand into benches around it). She expected Hannah to show, maybe others. She had opened the invitation to anyone she had classes with. Even Jann, though it wasn't handed to him. She... well there still issues there. Wasn't there? There were some event tents set up nearby to sort of make it a cozy affair to shield against inclement weather. They had their own heaters in them, along with most amenities.
  18. Tuesday, November 28th , 2017 Blackstone Federal Penitentiary Cell Block B, Cell 254 4:26 AM Live in Blackstone wasn’t all bad. Sure, there was little freedom and everywhere you went, somebody was likely watching you. Nobody really liked each other, and everything was scheduled down to a point. But at the very least sleeping tight wasn’t an issue. Getting woken up in the middle of the night was incredibly rare, the prison tried to avoid it whenever possible due to some bad experiences. So when suddenly, somebody knocked at Prisoner SH-202, better known as Synth, ‘s cell, it was enough to get her attention, even at this point of the night. What came after did even more for that. The clicking of the lock, indicating the door had been unlocked, and the whisper, easily audible with Synth’s ears. It was in Swedish. [“Come with us.”]
  19. It's Saturday

    "Hey." "Heeeey." "Li! Liii! Wake up!" A tug. Warmth fell away and cool air rushed to fill the empty space. Reluctantly, Kat shuddered, slowly remembering she was a person. Groggily, she pushed herself to her knees on her bed, yawned and fixed the chipper young women standing over her with a blanket in her hands a heavy-lidded glare. Who was this person and why she holding her blanket? For a minute, she was a stranger. A tall young woman with a bright smile and bright green hair style in an undercut. It felt like Kat was staring at the sun from her sheer cheerfulness. Or maybe because the woman had thrown open the blinds and let the sun shine into the room from behind her. Kat decided she didn't care either way. "What you staring for?" "Maybe if I stare hard enough, you'll catch fire . . ." Ah, that's right! ". . . Tally." Her roommate in Emerald City. "Why am I not sleeping?" Tally shook her head sadly. Gosh, she was even dressed! "You slept in! It's noon!" "NOON?! I . . ." Kat's eyes startled opened wide, but then quickly irised back into their tired sag. "It's Saturday." "I figured we could hang out together a little today." She said, her face falling a little. "It's been a little bit. Wanted to check up on you." "Why would you think that?" Tally gave a small, knowing grin. "Pizza, downtown. My treat." Kat blinked, sat up a little straighter. Rubbed her eyes. "I hate you." "You love me." "I love pizza." She sighed. "Gimme an hour."
  20. Relay(IC)

    GM Inside the SouTeq headquarters building, Thebes, Egypt, Earth-C-Tech-20970 50 years since big business superceded governments, 1 month since the creation of the Device, 45 minutes since entry, three and one-quarter seconds since things began to go wrong... With a bone-jarring impact Marcel Suvou, one of the richest and most powerful men on Earth, flew headlong into a transparent wall, the creation of exotic polymers and high-stressed metal rippling around him as he slumped awkwardly against one of the obsidian lions inexplicably ringing the office. The archaic-looking wristwatch that would have ended her for good lay peacefully on Marcel's desk. But, despite her lighting-swift kick, Scion was still in trouble. The alarm rattled and screamed through the thick, hot night air and even with the suitcase she had risked so much for mag-locked to her arm it would take a miracle to make it hers. Outside, in the halls she had been sauntering through without a care, she could hear booted feet, the heavy tread of bullbots and the ringing shrieks of hawkbots as the small army she had ghosted past just minutes ago moved to trap her. Outside, beyond the balcony, she could see the complex moving into lockdown. She could also see the relatively gentle slope of the SouTeq Building's pyramidal facade. At the least, it would be faster than walking.
  21. Some 'Splaining To Do

    Lynn and Gretchen's Apartment. Tuesday, March 14th, 2017. 1:05 am It had been a long night for the Shrike; Grimalkin's website got an anonymous tip about a human trafficking operation in Greenbank, but it didn't sound like it would be too dangerous. Lynn and Gretchen had been working on inventory with a little informal help from their new roomie Moira when the tip came in; thinking the situation would be quickly resolved, Gretch offered to take the op solo, though Lynn insisted she call her the minute things got too dicey. Gretch found the operation all right; it just happened to be run by a den of Greek witches who loved throwing vipers at their enemies, and hired ex-Spetsnaz 'eyegougers' for security. The young barista repeatedly tried to call Lynn, but the witches somehow blocked magical communication, which left the ringwielder fighting for her life for the better part of an hour in a freightyard. But all those hours playing first person shooters and training with Lynn really payed off; by the time the cops finally showed up, Gretch had personally subdued seven witches and nine Russian bad guys. The FCPD was suitably impressed, and the officers thanked her once they got her statement. Not ready to head home just yet, Shrike grabbed a coffee and slowly savored it on a rooftop, her feet dangling over the edge. Part of her was glad she wasn't able to reach Lynn; it was nice to know that if the chips were down and her back against the wall, she, Gretchen McDaniels, could kick serious ass. Now flying back towards home and the comforting arms of her lover, Gretch gently probed to see if Lynn was still awake; if she didn't get an immediate response, it usually meant the changeling was passed out somewhere already. If she wasn't in bed, Gretch used the Ring of Power to carefully pick her up and float her into the bedroom and tuck her in. The invisble crimefighter landed in the small lightwell patio between the two apartments and opened the door, stepping into the dining room. There was a soft flickering glow coming from the living room, which probably meant Lynn had fallen asleep watching home movies on her beloved PictureBox from Otherworld. Not wanting to wake her girlfriend, Gretch floated silently into the room to an unexpected sight: Lynn and Moira, sleeping on the sofa together under a blanket. All she could do was float and stare at the two of them for several minutes. At length, she finally crossed her arms and spoke. "Well, then."
  22. Room of Danger (sixth edition)

    It was a dark and stormy afternoon. The name on the sign was DELTA Labs. It had been quite a big operation. Two story warehouse. Now it was surrounded by cops and barricaded by sawhorses. Replica (masked android in search of justice) and Salvo (teen genius and power armored magus) were here because…wait, why were they here? That was odd…they didn’t remember leaving home. Or meeting up. Or even traveling here. “Thank god you’re here.” It was a police detective, clad in a suit with badge prominently displayed. He could have come right out of Central Casting. “Those two are holed up inside, and my boys couldn’t dislodge them with a forklift. First team’s on their way to the hospital now.” He sighed in disgust. “Should’ve known they were here. Building’s been empty for months. Company went bankrupt.” He took his battered hat off, and squeezed it. “We were promised some help from the LT, and looks like you’re it. Olivia!” An African American woman with a badge at her waist (who could have stepped right out of Central Casting herself) walked up. “What’s going on, Mason? Oh, the heroes are here? Good.” Mason put his hat back on his head. “Detective Rocky Mason. My partner, Olivia Briscoe. Just say the word, and we’ll get you whatever you need. And don’t worry about building damage. You’ll save the new owners some money. Gonna knock it down in a couple weeks, put up some condos or somethin’.”
  23. Room of Danger (fifth edition)

    A contact still on the force had passed on a hot tip about a missing little girl. And so here Mindjumper (former police officer, current professional superhero) found himself seated on a couch in a small apartment. A young woman (younger than he was, which was saying something considering she was the mother of the missing girl) serving him his preferred beverage. Her name was..wait, what was her name again? The world seemed completely unreal for a second, and even after that had passed something was still…off. At any rate, missing girl to find. Distraught young mother in front of him.
  24. October 2nd, 2017, 2.17PM Freedom City University, North End, Freedom City, New Jersey, USA Reinstein Hall "So is of the case! Thank Marssaulize Benjawan for hadbringing us to that 'tention! Envirolonament and is...primary determiner of what morals you got!" Professor Sullivan Mash, PHD of medical ethics, simmered behind his desk. His bulky brown suit bulged with the steely muscles beneath, the sweat standing out on his shiny grey head beading under the harsh lights of the auditorium-style classroom, intersected with stark black lines of tattoos. From one ear dangled a ring of gold that would have been a good bracelet on a smaller man, which brought out his pitch-black eyes. "Sully" had no indoor voice to begin with and had a keen appreciation for the dangers of letting the students in the back down by softening his words for those up front. So while, as ever, his class was jam-packed, there was none of the sotto voce chattering and whispered conversation Mali was used to from last year. 'Professor Smash' had a keen eye on top of his cannon-like voice, and did not suffer inattention no matter how gifted his pupils. Ripping a cloth rag from his pocket to soak on his streaming face, Sullivan gesticulated wildly with the other hand as he resumed "So bad in truck! You got carpstruption! You got haberdasher, you even got dovement inftraference! But people loves in your hands, tomorrow we examine-" he squinted at the ceiling like he was trying to burn holes in it "-im-pact of Cold-War-Ol-ym-pics on -mod-ern sports! Pegs three-fuddy to four-hundred-twelve!" He spun on his heel and slammed his grey fist onto the granite desk with a shattering THUD "Bye! Second trussed next woke! See me if you probs!" Like a dam had burst, the students sprang into action, the low hubbub of exits and entrances in education buzzing to life. A few of the students at the front took out ear plugs, looking faintly shaken. The ones who were known to take the most accurate notes were already being accosted by the rest who couldn't begin to make out what Professor Mash was saying. The lectures so far hadn't been strictly necessary, most of the material was already in the book. But piecing together the erratic mind of their teacher was always a must for those who wanted an edge. "Mali!" the word cracked out like a whip, Professor Mash pointing directly at the young woman "See more in orifice! Have fedback on lats paper!" Several of the those around Mali shot her sympathetic looks. Even if it was all good, being in enclosed spaces with Sullivan could be harrowing. elsewhere Ravenna Blackwood was a tall, cool glass of stout, handsome despite the years she carried on her elegant shoulders and aristocratic face lined with cares. She dressed well, but not with an aim to dazzle or impose, a simple sweater of dark blue and crepe pants still worth more than all the clothes Jon had ever owned. A silver necklace bearing a single dark opal glimmered around her slender neck, framed by her long, thick black mane. She'd called Jon there for a job, explaining over the phone that it was a delicate, sensitive matter that required the utmost caution and discretion. So she had brought him to an upscale club in North End, gotten them a private alcove, and told her sad tale. With a sigh, Ravenna set down her glass, untasted, and fixed Jon with her tawny eyes: "There is a supervillain working at the university. My ward attends his classes. I want him exposed and...removed." In the dark of the corner, her eyes almost seemed to glow. "Can you do this?"
  25. Room of Danger (fourth edition)

    So, then. Moira Morley (alias the superheroic Scion) found herself on a wide beach. It stretched to her front and back seemingly endlessly. To her left was a tropical jungle. To her right was the ocean. How did she get here? Gods (perhaps literally) only knew. Where was she? Again, gods only knew. At least it was a cloudless day, and the sun was bright. The only thing preventing her from relaxing and maybe going for a swim was the guy about ten feet down the beach from her. He was approaching quickly, and (one more time, because why not) gods only knew who he was or what he wanted.
×