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January 3, 2017 3:00 pm, -3 GMT Over the Gulf Stream, Grand Banks, North Atlantic Ocean Cloudy, Raining. And Cold... Torpedo Lass has been through worse. At least that's what she tells herself. The Athena, a research ship for OCEAN-Freedom was doing important research on the salinity of the Gulf Stream, passing over the Grand Banks, helping anchor and place sensor bouy lines to the continental shelf. While a submarine was in order for doing this, it wasn't availiable at the time, but Torpedo Lass interested in the organization volunteered to help the effort. She got some looks from the half sea-sick crew members the day before, dressed in red drysuits and life vests, barely keeping their legs under them as the ship pitched as they got the last of their deck equipment secured. Mary herself had rescued a couple who had fell overboard when they hit a slick section of the deck, they were resting and warming back up in sick bay. They were looking more at the skin-tight wetsuit-like costume she was wearing wondering how she kept warm. The thing with Torpedo Lass, the cold stopped bothering her when she got the powers in the first place. But now the waves were calm enough to resume work, but since the trip got a bit hairy, things were limited to tethered sensors tossed over the side and reeled down to a proper depth. Torpedo Lass kept an eye on the bundled lines, jumping into the water to help guide them, escorting the sensor to depth. Once she broke the surface she put some air in her vest to swim about on the surface to inspect the side of the ship the line was on. Everything was clear of being any tangling issue. Once she was satisfied with the work she climbs up a rope ladder to the deck where a deck hand handed over a drink. "Thought you'd appreciate some fresh water." She said with a smile. "Not much of an issue but thanks." Torpedo Lass said... drinking Salt Water wasn't harmful for her, but the thought was appreciated. "How's Mark and Anna?" Torpedo Lass said with some concern. "They're better. They've gotten over the chill they got from falling overboard yesterday. That was a good eye spotting them fall overboard." Torpedo Lass smiled, straightening the sailor collar of her costume. Whenever she had the dive vest inflated it never really sat right. "At least they remembered the safety briefing I game them and remembered the man overboard beacons to make spotting them easier. Still getting used to how those modern Mae Wests of yours work... didn't have auto-inflation until I re-appeared in modern times.." Torpedo Lass sat on the Port rail, looking over the side at the sensor line. The deckhand was looking at Torpedo Lass quizzically at her last comment as she remembered something... "I think Doctor Delacroix was gonna check on things on deck here in a minute or two... I wager he wanted to suit up first." "Yeah, I wager seeing how Mark and Anna were shivering it put the gospel in him." Mary smirked. "And... Mae West?" "Before your time, kid. And i wager before they invented reflective tape." She waited for the Good Doctor to step out on deck. "Hopefully it's good news and we can shift location later to someplace calmer... and sunnier. Might raise the crew's spirits." "Yeah, this cold and rain is getting to some of the volunteers. The heavily shortened shifts help, but the rocking of the boat last night... really didn't help with sleep patterns." Torpedo Lass nodded. "Probably'll add a few days to the trip I'd wager too. Get inside and see what's up with the Doc, Sally." Sally nodded. "Sure thing. I'll see what's up." She heads into the ship, looking around for Doctor Delacroix. "Hey Doc! You around? Torpedo Lass is askin' for ya!" There was something on Mary's mind... she could have swore she had seen a black shadow in the water, but with the way the waves were yesterday, she couldn't be sure if it was a whale or anything... she hadn't had the chance to report the fact yet, but while things were calm, it seemed it was time for a situation report. She made sure the pony tail she had started to grow was still held in place by the tied ribbon at it's root. She had been growing her dark purple hair out from it's short, military length. Her phosphorescent blue eyes watching the other deckhands. Their glow slightly visible with the overcast lighting conditions. Not that any lighting was an issue... she could see in the dark plain as day.

Claremont Academy January 3, 2017 Noon, EST Sunny, 45 degrees... An Orange colored tent was up with snow embankements around it, forming a snow-fort around the international orange bubble supported by pressurized ribs in a hexagonal pattern. But this was an experiment. A project that Claremont's resident Senior super-genius was doing. She was testing how this portable habitat could work out for terrestrial research efforts in the Antarctic. She had considered installing floats on the bottom for Arctic Ocean research, but she wanted to start off with baby steps. Although with the way the snow outside was melting from the recent snowstorm... it might be a considered an option. She did consider that the market for deployable consumer-grade tents with enough creature comforts to make even the most urban outdoors enthusiast happy could be an untapped market in general. A couple panels were peeled back revealing clear plastic membrane windows, as well as generous solar panel blankets anchored into the snow drifts facing south in the open field, the winter sun of the day filtering through clouds being kicked up by a near-miss of a Nor'easter heading for the Grand Banks. Sakurako was inside, sipping on a hot cocoa, looking up some information online with her laptop, otherwise spartan arrangements were set up inside: a collapsible table, a pink inflatable chair that she was sitting on, an inflatable couch, and what looked like an electric stove. She would have been proud of installing a portable restroom, but that would create a logistical nightmare for the school. So she's had to resign herself to the fact she'd have to return to civilization periodically to take care of herself. The tent itself was providing heat, and even had a shower stall, using heated melt-water as a water supply, something Sakurako enjoyed shoveling to try to get her willowy frame stronger. She'd have to be once AEGIS calls her in to start the real training soon... That was beside the point, a new Hero she ran into, a gentleman by the name of Hammer wanted some help, some advice in terms of securing his identity and place online. And she was happy to help. She looked at her smart phone for the time. "Well, this isn't a formal business meeting, so being late is expected... particularly if he's beaten up some bad guys or is doing a rescue or something. The greater good comes first." She looked over to the airlock-like doorway, awaiting a ring of the doorbell attached outside. "Added a few upgrades from the simpler model at the storm party a couple weeks ago... Now the cold air'll stay where it belongs... outside." She said, activating some firewalls with the type of encryption that would make the NSA Jealous... and paranoid.

Kwame picked up his phone and stared at the screen for a short while, trying to recall all that he was taught. Okay, let's see if I can do this. first, log into the site. Kwame's fingers touched a number of buttons, bringing up the browser followed by the login page of HeroHouse.com. What was my id and password again? Oh that's right! I remember. He entered the require information and was rewarded with the main bulletin board of topics and forums. Okay. That's the easy step. Now for the hard one. Choose new topic. Set the topic to public. Now all I have to do is type in the message. She said I needed to keep things 140 characters, right? Kwame stared at the screen for a while, wondering why he couldn't type any more. Oh, I'm over the limit. Got to change it. First, delete. Then try again. Kwame smiled once he saw that the words fit. Good start. Now let's see if I can get the information to them. Kwame looked at the last message and smiled. This should do it. I hope a lot of people come out at least to mingle.

Rodnak 252 Edge of the Lor Republic GM Post Even when the Republic was at it’s height Rodnak was considered a frontier world. Far from the machinations of Lor-Van this sleepy little agricultural planet was beneath most people’s knowledge. The Communion and even common raiders passed it by considering it too small for there notice. Even with the republic still recovering from the Incursion and the safe borders creeping parsec’s from this little planet no one gave it any notice. It was the perfect place if you wanted to hide away from everyone, just you and you secrets as the populous wasn’t the type to question you pass. Arak City was as close you call a capital and even it was no more than a few building clustered together with an area cleared and treated for shuttles to land and refuel. Though no one had used the pad in almost a year now, though that was something that was about to change...

GM December 29th, 10.43 PM, 2016 Outside the Long Ladder tavern, Southside, Freedom City "I keep tellin' you, mask, I won't say nonthin'!" Theo Braithwaite, the so-called 'worst informant in Freedom' was certainly living up to his name. As he dangled from Psy Strike's telekinetic grip, his face a mask of terror as four pudgy limbs flailed from a core that resembled an over-the-hill barrel, he'd proclaimed total ignorance of the job going down tonight at the docks under the Atlantis casino. He definitely didn't want to get in any trouble with Garcia, "Big Al" Driogano or his witchy sidekick, and anyway the secret tunnels would stop intruders no matter how many friends she called in, on account of their being reliant on hidden mechanisms that nobody on the wrong side would ever find. And there were like thirty men there anyway, so she'd never deal with it herself. It was days after Christmas, and the few tired-eyed people wandering under the garish lights and tinsel that remained after the massive snowstorm didn't even bother glancing over, except to yell "Shut up, Theo!"

GM Saturday, December 31st , 2016 Freedom’s Fry 12th Kissinger “Greasy Joe’s” , Southside, Freedom City 10:43 PM It was New Year’s Eve. Which meant that generally, most fast food places were open for quite a while, and usually got a fair amount of customers. Of course, it also was a Saturday, which further increased the amount of customers. Greasy Joe’s, as the locals endearingly referred to the local joint of Freedom’s Fry in memory of its first owner, was a rather small place. Six tables inside, a few more outside for the warm days (not the end of December), and the counter. Together with a small storage-slash-staff room at the back. And at the moment, all tables were filled. Mostly groups of teens and young adults, who went to grab something to eat before delving into the night and it’s various parties. Southside didn’t see much in terms of night-life, but there were a few college parties and other events every now and then. Rose Callux had been the (un)lucky one to get the evening-to-night shift on this day together with one of her colleagues, Jamie. Together, the two served the various people coming in and leaving, or coming in and staying, dealing with the joys of fast-food on a Saturday night. So far, the evening had been rather quiet when it came to uncomfortable situations, which came as somewhat of a surprise.

GM January 1st, 2017, 12.05AM On a road deep inside Wharton State Forest... The truck, or whatever it was, jerked and skittered across the thousandth patch of ice. James White of Earth-W 1042005 had an advantage over almost any other life-form, but with a sack over his head, power-nullifying manacles clamped around his wrists and ankles, and a sedative drug coursing through his body those powers were a pretty abstract comfort. Like knowing what that bright, hot thing in the sky is seconds before the meteorite hits you. Around him he could hear the breath of his captors. They were, to a...potentially man, silent, but the catch of their lungs, the easing of armored suits and the rattle of cumbersome metal objects at least gave some idea of what kinds of people would drug a guy at a tavern celebrating New Year's Eve. Suddenly, one spoke "What about the League?" Another "Hm?" "They'll come for him." "The dupe will work long enough. John Adams knows his job. It'll be months before anybody notices and never until they find us." The other grunted skeptically, but lapsed into another long silence. Very thankfully, they hadn't bothered to cover James' ears or mouth with anything more than the sack.

Bedlam Harbor 2 am on a Cold Winter Night GM Post Beldam liked to keep it simple, and as long as you kept the right people happy things could go simply. With Bedlam that mean keeping the Mob happy something that the Vorovskoy Bratva, the Russian gangsters, didn’t always do their best to keep them content. So when one of the Bratva’s warehouses burst into flames there seemed to be little interest by the authorities to stop the flames, they seemed more concerned by the nearby building which were obviously owned by people more aligned to the city ideals. Luckily the fire seemed contained to only a small area and very little damage was caused and this could be considered a potential warning, as long as no one had been harmed...

Lilly sat just inside the Administrative Building of the Claremont Academy, anxiety slowly building up as time stretched on with the only distraction being the wi-fi on her phone. The young plant controller had been offered to take part of a mentorship program that the school had been developing for some time. The plan was to pair a student up with another superhero so they could better grasp their powers from someone with more experience. More similar the abilities, the better. It was a coincidence that Freedom City was frequented by Fleur de Joie, a legendary plant controller who had earned a place on the Freedom League and was adored by millions in the country. One could see why Lillian King would be more than a bit nervous. She was not sure if she was suppose to do their first meeting in costume or now. The uncertainty was enough to convince her to stay casual for today. Black jeans, black shirt, leather jacket to keep the cold out and a pair of worn boots just in case she had to do any running. And so, she waited for her arrival.

The first thing John Blake was aware of as he awoke was that he was most certainly not in his bed. The metal floor below him was cold and unyielding while the harsh blue light and background buzz of electricity surrounding him wasn't doing anything to relieve his pounding headache. The sight that greeted him as he forced open his eyes wasn't any more comforting. The teenager found himself sitting at the base of a cone of crackling blue energy the projected down from above him, trapping him in a circle of space no more than seven or eight feet across. The room outside his unorthodox cell was dark and details were difficult to make out but he could see that his cone was one of many in a long row stretching out into the distance. The wall behind him curved slightly, giving him the impression of a hull, which would have explained the faint vibration he felt through the drool-damp cheek resting against the deck plating. Getting to his feet John discovered that he was still in the sleep clothes he'd put on the night before and that he was not alone. Standing in the cone to his left was a pile of stones in the rough shape of a humanoid figure, rough edges fitted tougher to form thick limbs and hulking shoulders topped by a squat, lantern-jawed head. For a moment the human mistook it for a statue until it turned its gaze upon him, two wells of burning red where eyes might have been. After a moment the creature raised a hand in affable greeting and said, "Rock."

Skaw, Unst, The Ice Maiden December 30, 3:00 PM With nowhere to go for the holidays Phaedra visited with Cathy and her family in the Shetlands. The visit wasn't unpleasant, time spent with Cathy was never unpleasant for the young half-angel, but it did leave her questioning her place in the world. Now she was sitting by herself in a pub halfway around the world, gazing down into her untouched drink and hoping her uncle--of sorts--got her message. And until--or if--he showed up Ms. Morningstar was left alone with her thoughts, in the dead of winter, halfway around the world she doesn't belong in.

GM Wednesday, December 28th, 2016 “The Palace of Practice”, The Waterfront, Freedom City 8:47 AM The Palace of Practice, UWL’s fabled gym and training area, was quite a sight to behold. While the upper floors of the building belonged to the UWL’s business side, the basement was a large room, spanning the limits of the property the building stood on into all sides, with multiple floors in height. UWL was fairly big and popular, but that didn’t explain how they’d been able something like this. This place truly was the best way to exercise that various internet and industry rumours made it out to be. It accommodated various powers, from weights ranging up to multiple tons in the lowest floor, to a large open area going through all the floors for flying. Standing in a group on the topmost floor of the gym was Kwame Harris, Hammer. He was part of the UWL’s most recent batch of new hires, standing in a half circle together with about ten others, three women and seven men. He recognized three of them, people who had made it to some fame in the US, including Jesse “The Spur“ Cassidy, a Canadian with the ability to turn into iron (His real name actually was Lawrie Stott, but that didn’t matter). Kwame had worked a program with him for some months a few years ago, and the two still had some contact. On top of a small stage made of various wooden elements that were easy to move stood two people. Both of them were easily recognizable, and Kwame had dealt with one of them before. Hedley DeShaek, endearingly called the “Orangutan” by both fans and wrestlers. The former wrestler of some fame was UWL’s main booker, he was responsible for everything from storylines to the length of matches. The other, a tall masked man. His mask covered the upper part of his head, white and black, mimicking the look of feathers. His torso was undressed, while his pants fit the look of his mask. As the last few people found their way into the room, DeShaek began to speak, his mouth moving above his ginger full beard. “Good to see you all made it. Welcome, to Ultimate Wrestling League! And welcome to the Palace of Practice! You’ll be spending most of your time in here, but it’s cozy, no worries. Now, before we start, do any of you already have questions?”

The air was cold enough that James’ breath escaped his lungs in billowing white clouds of a much cleaner sort than was usual. He wasn’t smoking at the moment, having tossed his previous cigarette to hiss and sizzle on the cold asphalt at the side of the road. He’d put it out of its misery with the toe of his shoe, grinding it to an even greater degree of lifelessness before he’d taken the short walk up the path to the porch. Strands of multicolored lights dangled merrily from the gutters and spiraled down the columns in tight loops. A wreath hung from the door; cut from real pine, it still maintained some of its characteristic scent. Reduced by age, it was nevertheless a refreshing change from cigarette smoke and leather-scented aftershave. From behind the door, Warne could hear music playing – the drums pounded softly within the house, the crashing cymbals clanged. It took him a moment, but James realized he was listening to a butchered rendition of “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” The telekinetic shook his head; it was just so thoroughly Stone he had trouble justifying his surprise. What else would the AMP’s pilot be listening to on Christmas Eve but heavy metal? A wind blew by, chilling Warne enough that he considered activating his force-field. Instead, he simply pulled his jacket tighter around his body. Lonely Point was true to its name, being a largely desolate peninsula unburdened by things like enough trees to dull the knife’s edge of winter cold. Home to the Lonely Point Naval Station, it also housed the maintenance bay of the Armored Mobility Platform, the incalculably expensive and oft-malfunctioning vehicle piloted by his AEGIS-assigned partner, Ethan Stone. Stone was employed at the Naval Station as a ‘consultant,’ on the AMP project, a convenient cover that was lent credibility by his former Air Force service and time spent as a MAX-armor pilot for the clandestine organization. Unbeknownst to his wife, Ethan flew the AMP and served his country as Upgrade, a bipedal jet-tank designed to showcase the United State’s expanding arsenal of experimental weapons technology. It was a career that his wife wouldn’t have approved of, if she knew.

8:30 PM City Center Freedom City U.S.A If there was one holiday the denizens of Freedom City loved more than Halloween (hero/heroine costumes!), it was Christmas! The downtown area had for weeks been slowly massing it's festive atmosphere, bunting and holly hanging from every storefront and lamppost, giant Santas and reindeer and elves hanging hither and yon, mistletoe in convenient places, blinking red/blue/green lights here there and everywhere. The snowstorm had slowed the roll more than a little, but after it's disappearance... It was like...cake icing. Fresh powder, white as can be, draped over everything; the colors of some lights shining through, the icicles hanging from the power lines reflecting and gleaming and turning the whole of downtown into a sight to behold. Was it any surprise that some store owners decided to make a day of it? It had just happened organically, if you pressed a bystander. One moment a stall had been opened on the sidewalk. Then two more. Then three more. Then a dozen. Then they were up and down the streets. Cars slowed, then stopped, then parked (illegally). Someone had brought out music players, or blocked doors open and let the department store carols burst out. Office workers found themselves taking their dinner breaks early, then not going back. There were skee ball stands, bottle toss booths, a whole carnival midway had cropped up with 'borrowed' materials from other stores. An inspector from City Hall had even shown up, and gotten handed a mug of eggnog. Apparently there was provisions for 'acts of holiday cheer' in the FC lawbooks. The fact that a trio of police were seen scurrying along towards a makeshift sled hill in a parking garage, all carrying toboggans, clearly had nothing to do with that. So that was the scene, when a hero or three arrived. Four blocks of the City Center, turned into one of the biggest Christmas block parties the City of Heroes had ever seen! Frank Sinatra was crooning carols on the breeze, there was eggnog everywhere you looked, and holly wreaths with Christmas lights lining more than a few romantic holiday walks. It was as if the world was making merry, and all were welcome to join in.

This thread is open for anyone to post any incidents that might make the news. For this thread, all news will be covered by Channel 3 (GBN affiliate). Simply respond to the thread with a link to the main thread where the event occurred, Area of the city, characters mentioned, date, and time. Thread: Link to related thread Area: Location of main thread Character: Name of characters mentioned Date: Date of the news Time: time of the news

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?

Kat wished Algebra 2000 was as simple as rupturing reality. But—apparently—disintegrating homework was frowned upon. The FCU library remained sparsely decorated, even with Christmas looming near. It had the sleek, modern tint. Smooth and silver, with long bannisters and uncomfortable-looking benches lined the outside. Inside, on the lower two floors, was a coffee shop and rows of free-to-use computers and desks, partitioned from each other by glass walls. Above that, the shelves the extensive FCU main library divided the building into discrete parts, with conference rooms ready for booking online (and schedules booked full of students clamoring for one last study session), stacks of books and recycled furniture from other parts of campus that decided they'd deserved something better. Kat had staked her claim on one of the couches, plugged her laptop into the outlet beside it and curled up, too fed up with 'X's and 'Y's to care about her shoes on the cushions, laptop glinting blue light as the sun in the window across the room dipped a little closer to the city skyline, oranges and reds of the near-horizon fighting against the electric-white of the library's overhead lights. She made a soft, distressed sound and pressed her hand into her cheek, looking up from her computer and, longingly, outside.

GM "Excuse me, Mister... I apologize, I am not sure what pronoun or honorific to use with you...?" The woman let the words dangle in air. Strong. Tall. Confident. And suddenly just there, where no one had been in the waiting area. She was what someone who imagine as a member of AEGIS. "I am Ms. Nameth, I'll be serving as liaison, I apologize for the suddenness that this happening. There were some natural concerns, though I believe we found an... individual who fits your needs." There was not a hint being betrayed by the brown haired woman in the navy pantsuit. "Please follow me, we decided it was best that this be conducted in a secure room." Not that they had to go far, just a few feet to a nondescript door, which she opened, and gestured inward, to brightly lit room that looked like an interrogation room, with the flat broad table and two seats across each other. "Can we get you anything to eat or drink?"

GM December 15th, 2016. 1.42PM A.S.T.R.O. Labs showroom, behind the labs proper, where they used to show off new jets and guns. "...Which brings us to the pride of our tour, the Guardian of Infinity!" Dr. Spencer gestured grandly to the towering apparatus, a of aluminium tubing on either side of a sideways, elongated oval as wide across as a city street and tall as a house. Hydrogen fuel cells hummed away, connected to the titanium oval by thick bundles of cables that vanished into the complex of struts and and bars around it. Running a good yard from it was a large black/yellow striped square. With "please do not approach the distortion of space-time" signs at each front-facing corner. The floodlights they reflected shone down on both the meticulously-curated and presented showcase floor and relics of the Lab's glorious past. Up above their heads hung replicas of various weapons and vehicles that had been the end of countless Germans. Around the guests was the future. Spacial-temporal distortions and all. Said distortion was a remarkably mundane affair. A city very like the Freedom City outside, with people looking very like those gathered before it. The first sign of difference was the omnipresence of Arabic letters. The second was the giant mechanical eagle that crashed into the ground, causing havoc as citizens rushed to shelter. As it rose up, it was struck down again by the now-visible superhumans pursuing it. Their host grinned and produced a spiral-shaped remote from her suit-jacket. "Yes, citizens! A world like our own, but not! With this device, constructed by my colleague Dr. Brandtford and myself, we can see any-" A world where domes were the major architectural style. "-neighboring-" Crosses filled the skyline, with images of saints on every window. "-divergence-" At the intersection, drivers floored it on the red light. "-we choose!" Spencer beamed at the crowd, tucking an errant lock of thick brown hair behind her ear "And best of all, we have made contact with a few alternate Labs, who had made devices nigh-identical to this one! Who knows what the future holds?" She scanned the gaggle of visitors, the vast majority of whom were students at Freedom City University "Any questions?" Dozens of twentysomethings glanced at each other. Spencer's grin was a bit too far that side of manic.

Monday, December 19, 2016 1:35 am "Ladies and gentlemen," began the slightly garbled voice over the speakers, "we'll be beginning our descent to Jordan International Airport in just a few minutes. Please stow your trays and bring your seat to the upright position." Kwame yawned and stretched before proceeding to follow the instructions. First, he put the tray before him away. Then he reached over and pulled the empty chair to his left up. The late night flight from O'Hare airport in Chicago to Jordan International in Freedom city was practically empty. Kwame took a moment to look around at the other passengers. Looks like there's only six others here in business class with me. A little more than I would have expected on such a late flight. I wonder why they're going to Freedom. Kwame gave a wide smile at the woman sitting in the same aisle when their eyes met. The gesture was quickly ignored as she turned away to fiddle with her belongings. That one must be a lawyer. With a briefcase like that, she must be a pretty good one. Still, there's no reason why she should be so rude. It was just a smile. "Damn it!" The exclamation drew Kwame's attention. He turned around to get a better look at the man four rows behind him. From the awkward position, Kwame figured the guy was some big honcho of a mid-sized company. The gray business suit and his pushy attitude towards the flight attendants were big indicators that his guess was correct. One of the flight attendants hurried passed Kwame to deal with the man. She was one of the older attendants on the flight. Kwame smiled inwardly as he remembered the private conversation they had earlier during the flight. I'm going to have to get her number. Maybe she'll be willing to show me around the city. Perhaps even stay a night or two. If we had more room, I'm sure I could convince Jenny to try some more interesting positions. "I said I bring me another bottle of wine! I don't care that we're about to land. I've paid good money for this flight!" Kwame frowned as the man began berating Jenny. She spoke in a softer voice in an attempt to calm the man but it didn't seem to be working. The man began swinging his arm about causing the attendant to flinch in fear. Kwame grabbed a magazine from the chair pocket, unbuckled his belt, and proceeded to move over towards them. Jenny caught his approach in the corner of her eye and shook her head slightly as if to get him to return to his seat. Kwame ignored the gesture and stopped next to her. He then dropped the magazine into the man's lap and smiled. "Excuse me, but I thought I'd bring over some reading material for you." The man looked up at Kwame's muscular frame and frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked as he lifted up the magazine to look at the front cover. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized Kwame's face on the cover. "Yeah, that's me. They call me Hammer when I'm in the ring. That was before I became a meta. If you keep up with this noise, you'll get a chance to learn first hand why I decided to keep the name." Kwame reached down for the magazine and flexed. The color quickly drained from the man's face as he watched the muscle seem to grow larger than any normal human's would. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to apologize to Jenny here, I'll let you prepare for our landing. We wouldn't want you getting hurt before we land now, would we?" The man shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry," he said in a subdued voice as he hastily stowed his tray and straighten his chair. Jenny simply nodded and gave Kwame a thankful look. Kwame returned the nod, took back his magazine, and returned to his chair. I think I'm going to like it here.

GM AEGIS central command, "The Iceberg", inderneath the Federal Building in Freedom City, NJ, USA.ò The infirmary. Bed 22. July 5th 2016 "Mz. Hino." Sakurako had been floating in darkness for a long time. The voices were pretty frequent, and added variety to the inchoate shapes that slid by. Sometimes they were her parents, sometimes her friends. Once, she had seen and heard Hannah looking down from some white void and whisper that she was coming for her. "Mz. Hino...time to wake up..." This time, there was the gentle tug at her shoulder. This had happened a few times before, she had woken up and gone home to her happy parents and favourite flying jellyfish with the fifteen finger puppets. Once, there had been a dog. That was weird. "Alright Turinsdottir, we do it your way. Fire her up." Then very suddenly the black void was wrenched away, Sakurako was staring out at a room drenched in red, white and blue, curtains shielding most of it from view. Next to her were two severe, military-looking women in scrubs, hair caps and face masks, one holding a silvery syringe and nonchalantly removing a cylinder of something blue. And wriggling. The other looked very apologetic. "Mz. Hino, do you feel any pain? Do you know who you are, what happened before you came here?" By now the glare was dying down, and the wet, warm feeling she'd had was revealed as submersion in some strange, greenish liquid. Instead of a normal bed, it more resembled a flattened bathtub, covered from her neck down by a pale blue plastic sheet. Her whole body felt like it had been used to beat carpets but otherwise felt fine.

GM Arh-Zhak Arh-Zhak wasn’t really on the way when it came to space travel. Still, trade happened, and with it the exchange of messages. One of said messages had made its way to Kharag, the one known by many names, former Emperor of the Za’akis and current Praetorian. It was that last status that explained this message. It came from CoVic itself. Kharag was needed, and he was to meet with a fellow Praetorian, who would explain further. The meeting spot would be on Arh-Zhak itself, an establishment close to the planet’s main spaceport. Further mentioned in the message was to come prepared, and to be ready for the undertaking to take some time. Some time later… The Shady Hole was a pretty average establishment. It offered all the joys and pleasures of Arh-Zhak, plus whatever it could get from being quite close to a spaceport. People from all over the galaxy were here, their affiliations not a matter of concern so long as they remained peaceful. These places were great meeting spots, nobody looked out of place, and nobody cared what people were saying. And so, on the mentioned time, Kharag set foot into the building. The light was low, with some coloured lights lighting up various areas of the rooms, the first visible thing being the large round bar in the middle of the main room.

GM Monday, December 12, 2016 The Doom Room, Claremont Academy, Freedom City 6:25 PM John’s first day at Claremont had been quite interesting. After a run-in with a few people earlier the day, he had already gotten to know quite a few of his fellow students. The rest of the day had gone without any further incidents. His lessons had started later that day, where it was the good old procedure of “how about you introduce yourself”. A few of his acquaintances also shared classes with him, and during the breaks, there was some small-talk. Being the newest student always meant there was some attention on you. People wanted to know what he could do, rumours of his powers had already spread. At some point, Lilly, a classmate and the person that had defused the earlier situation, had, with some effort, convinced John to check out the Doom Room, the school’s training facility. Getting a timeslot wasn’t easy, it required advance booking and lots of people contended for a spot. Fortunately, one of Lilly’s friends had managed to get a timeslot for the evening, and was willing to share and/or give up portions of it to others. The two teens made their way down to the Room, and were now standing in the observation deck, waiting for the current routine to end. Inside, the two could see Jann, fighting what appeared to be a least a dozen of 80s-action-movie-style Ninjas. Skillfully, he weaved from one to the next, dodging and parrying various attacks along the way. Occasionally, he went on the offensive, but he seemed more focused on dodging as many simultaneous attacks at once. The Avian appeared to be unarmed, using only his talons and whatever weapons he took from the Ninjas.

GM Monday, December 12, 2016 Claremont Academy, Bayview, Freedom City 9:21 AM It was John Blake’s first day at Claremont Academy, he had only just arrived. Of course, being a Freedonian, it was not as big a change as for many people. Either way, one of the assistant teachers had just finished showing him around the most important places. The droms, the school building, the gym, and the park. There, the teacher had left him, hurrying back towards the school building for the next lesson. John still has some time, the first lessons would be in the afternoon, so exploring the school grounds seemed like a good idea. By the time he had made his way back towards the building, it seemed to be break, as various people, some looking more “average” than others, walked around the place, played games, or simply mingled. A group of men, probably about John’s age, walked up to him. Most of them passed, but then, one of them, very deliberately, bumped shoulders with John. The others, a group of 5 people, turned around almost immediately. The one still closest to John, fairly tall and with blond hair, began to speak. “Hey newbie. Careful, or do we have to show you the ropes?”

*CN: Violence, Police Brutality, Racism, Sexism* *Bang Bang BANG* "Bedlam PD!" preceded the shattering of door and frame as the boys in blue spilled into three apartments across Bedlam. *** In Wolverton the office door declaring Excelsior Investigations shattered under the blow the police spilling in with full tactical loadout weapons raised as if the middle aged resident kneeling in the center of the room next to a half empty cup of coffee was the greatest threat to public safety the city had known. Xavier Steadman was slammed to the ground bloodying his nose as he was cuffed and taken into custody. He knew better than to antagonize them with questions about his rights or the charges and patiently accepted the abuse as each badge number and face was committed to a memory more refined than most artificial data stores. *** Not far away in Hardwick park the sizzle of some kind of heavily spiced breakfast meats sizzled as Abuela Orellana called not for the first time to her school age grandchildren to dress and pack for school. The Garage downstairs was already open with her son hard at work for hte day when the police came. Only the elderly woman's rapid fire demands of "What did you do?!" threatened to drown out the SWAT teams demands the residents of hte crowded apartment get on the ground. When the family was all restrained and no few of the struggling families meager belongings shattered the apparent lead detective stomped up and down the line of hispanic faces glaring at each, "Somebody shut her UP!" he bellowed as Abuela Orellana continued her lamentations in non-stop spanish. "Sophia Orellana!" he demanded as he tried to place his quarry which seemed to finally silence the old woman just in time given the raised rifle butt one officer had aimed her direction. All eyes turned in shock to Sophia removing any chance of hiding who she was from the police and the young woman was quickly hauled to her feet and shoved toward the door and a waiting cruiser to snickers behind masked faces as to her upcoming popularity. *** The secluded Downtown apartment Alice currently called home should not have been a thing the police could find even if they did have reason to look for her. So it came as quite the shock when she found herself surrounded with eagle eyed tactical officers with guns leveled at her before she had the opportunity to even consider fleeing. The beefy detective that followed the officers in barely even looked at her before nodding to an officer behind her. There was a sharp pain on the back of her skull then everything went black. *** Lou sat in the lockup sleeping off last nights drunk, his continued presence in dry out a sign that someone wanted him here, maybe he made a pass at a wise guys arm candy, or maybe someone had a reason for him to be here. He woke to the door slamming open as an unlikely trio of perps were thrust into his cell the smallest in a barely stirring heap on the ground. The middle aged African American man made his way to the sink to begin to clear some of the blood from his face as the young hispanic woman was thrust into the cell behind him. Even by Bedlam PDs lax standards for inmate safety this was far from regulation. Xavier looked up at the others warily as he settled in to carefully dab at his nose and check it for a break, "I don't suppose they were more forthcoming with any of you as to why we are here?" he inquired with unusual calm for an honest man thrust amongst what one could only assume were hardened criminals.