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Found 1,027 results

  1. Midnight Run

    GM The Eclipse Night Club September the 9th, 23:30 The Eclipse night club was booming to industrial Gothic Beats, an effective repetitive sound of limited musicality and excessive passion. Aortic Valve where playing and had been expressively forbidden from any self-harming blood throwing antics. On another night, this might not be the case, but the Eclipse did, from time to time, open its doors to the 16-18 age bracket with clear parameters for acceptable behaviour. Gotta Gotta Gotta, Gotta Gotta Gotta, Gotta Gotta Gotta Slash the Pash....ion! sang the leader Singer of Aortic Valve, Verity Vein, dressed in slashed up leathers and black make up. A bit too little of the former, a bit too much of the latter. She sang in a voice that alternated from drone to scream and was really rather effective. And 'twas on this night that Bird of Arms was out partying. And the place was packed. Not just with the 16 and 17 year olds, but older adults too. Alcohol was not served, but a frenzied spirit was, and in copious quantities. Rob the Troll was enjoying the show. He was six foot six and hideously ugly, not helped by a broken nose and scar that ran down his face bisected by an eye patch. His arms were as thick as most peoples legs, if not thicker, and he had tattoo's on (it seemed) every square foot of his skin. Rob the Troll kept the peace in the Eclipse, and such was his reputation that he could do it by reputation alone. However, with Bird of Arms here, his reputation and indeed his skill might not suffice. He sidled up to Bird of Arms as Slash the Passion finished (to much applause and screaming). "No trouble from you tonight, you hear?"
  2. Industrial Strength

    GM August 11th, Late Evening In a plane... Or more precisely, Mr Jonathon Hale, Esq, asleep in a Plane... Across endless icy plains, mountains, and beautiful bleakness...an Icebreaker was trapped. Steam poured out of engines, and whilst Ice cracked, it did not splinter asunder. Outside, Inuit and Europeans were hacking at the ice, desperate to move the ferocious ship. It groaned, full of Iron and Guns and Coal. And a black coated man with the biggest and blackest handgun one could conceive stood on the ship, bristling with frustration. The ship must break free! Seek it! Arnasaq woke him up. She was as quirky and beautiful as ever, at least to Mr Hale's eyes. A little older, a little wiser. And right now, rather worried... "Ladies and Gentlemen...please fasten your seatbelts and assume the crash position!" Screams and sweats poured forth from the passengers, who nevertheless did what they were told, and with great frenzy. As the Plane started to descend, Arnasaq pointed Mr. Hales eyes to the starboard wing, where one engine was smoking most alarmingly indeed. Below, the icy plains of Greenland, where Arnasaq had insisted they return for a break. And it look like a break was what they were getting. A quite different type of break. A piece of wing looked like it was going to break. And it did, splintering from the main wing and tumbling in a rather splendid arc, trailing black smoke.
  3. Karaoke Night at Morley's Pub

    Morley's Pub September 16th, 2017, Saturday @ 2100 Maxie walked into Morley's and smiled at the already gathering crowd. He needed this, needed some time to relax, even if he was being forced into his superhero get up. He remembered thinking idly that He was rarely ever in it when doing actual heroing, as it always seemed to catch him by surprise, but he had to admit he cut a dashing figure in an all leather black biker outfit with flames stitched into them up the arms and legs. It was early still, around 9 PM and so the place hadn't quite filled out yet. The entertainment on the docket today was billed as Super Hero Appreciation Karaoke Night. Apparently the heroes of the city were supposed to show up in their digs and sing some for the crowd and their fellow do gooders. This sounded like an excellent idea to Maxie, aka: Spitfire. He had spent most of his life as a performer, a carnival fire breather to be exact but crowds were all the same. They just wanted a good show and Maxie knew just the song to give them that good show. Seeing that the crowd wasn't quite big enough yet, though, he decided to wait. He walked up to the bar, greeting the patrons as he went. Most did not recognize him personally, he was relatively new in town, again. But they recognized a hero get up when they saw one and offered praise and claps on the back as he made his way to the bar. "Laphroaig Triple Wood, if ya got it please. If not, any Scotch of 12 years or older should do. As long as it's single malt! That blended stuff is atrocious." Max smiled as the drink was handed to him and took a long deep sniff of the alcohol. Drinking scotch was a lot like drinking wine, you had to do it right. You had to acclimate your senses to the smell so the alcohol wouldn't overwhelm the flavors. Recognizing the peaty aroma of the triple wood, Max closed his eyes and let out a slow happy sigh. This was gonna be a good night.
  4. [IC] Freedom of Information

    GM Thursday, April 20th, 2017 2:24 PM Morning, this came in today. Not as in, was sent, but as in “suddenly popped up in my drafted messages”. Is directed towards you too, so check it out: Hello You may remember me, I’m the one that helped you with Solemn’s network. I’ve got some information you and your scaly buddy are almost certainly interested in. New stuff about the guy and some stuff heating up again. The bench, where we first met. Today, 7:24 PM. Both of you. This is not a request. -Ph0enix Thoughts? Sounds pretty damn ominous, but going’s probably safer. All messages by Bonfire, written in quick succession, and received by Leviathan.
  5. Ink!

    Content warning: sensuality and off screen sex. This was not as bad as Moira thought it would be. There were a few manufactured homes here, but spaces for mobile homes too. It certainly had it's homeliness. There were a few kids running around the grounds with sticks. They pretended to be heroes. She watched them for a bit as she searched for Maxie's mobile home. They carried on about being The Knights Of Freedom, eliciting a small laugh from her. Finding Maxie's home was just a matter of following directions. Google Maps didn't go in these areas, so she had to traverse back and around. She almost went in a circle before she found it! At least it fit the description. She sighed and hoped it was the right one. Knoccking on the door she waited. The sky was a bit dark, rain maybe?
  6. The Gooble, Ordon-Class Freighter Somewhere in Space, travelling towards the Sharahazad Sector The news of “the Sharahazard Crisis” had spread far. So far, in fact, that even on Earth, attentive people could hear about it. Of course, travelling across a large part of known space was no easy task, especially for inhabitants of a planet without any real galactic presence of its own. Still, people with the right connections had ways of getting into space, and from there finding a pilot who was flying towards the Sharahazad sector was as easy as it ever would be. Seemingly every other person had a reason to make the journey. Amongst them was Hugol, a small-scale merchant who had stopped at the largest commercial hub close to Sol. He’d picked up quite a few people who were travelling towards the Sharahazad sector, their reasons as different as their looks. Some of them clearly more experienced than others, some not even able to speak Galstandard. He wondered what they were seeking, but it had already been enough trouble to negotiate the journey, he didn’t feel like asking. Some of them were terrans. Amongst them, Doctor Deoxy, who had heard that some of the refugees offered to trade scientific data, or even let people get data directly from their body, as an exchange for all sorts of goods. Travelling to the same place, but for an entirely different reason, was Professor Peculiar. The news of large-scale refugee movements happening at a different corner of the galaxy had reached him too, and he had a good reason to get a first-hand impression of what was happening.
  7. Hangar Bay C, Tethron Commerical Hub Tethron System, Sharahazad Sector The story of the “Sharahazad Crisis” had spread over the galaxy like a wildfire. A massive group of people, all arriving in the sector of otherwise little importance. Looking to buy and sell all sorts of goods. Many people saw that they could profit from the situation. Some saw the fact they could help people at the same time as a good thing, some didn’t care much for anything beyond money. Ak’kar had gotten the news too. And according to some rumours, many of the refugees were interested in buying all sorts of scrap. So he loaded up his ship, and travelled. It had been quite the journey, but upon arriving at Tethron, which served as the entire sector’s main cargo hub, these rumours were confirmed. Before he even arrived at the station itself, he’d already received multiple offers for what he’d been carrying. The Oog’ol, a species who had fled, seemed particularly interested, but some others, some of them merchants themselves, also offered great prices. The Leviathan landed, and as the crew got everything unloaded, Ak’kar was approached by a group of about 50 people. Some of them were Oog’ol, but the majority of them were what Ak’kar could now recognize as Asshui, another of the fleeing species. One spoke for them all, and his Galstandard was lacking. “Large ship. Will pay for bringing us out of system. Different place to stay. Us, and others after. Have money or goods to offer. “
  8. GM The Totality. The Solar Eclipse. Happens all the time, but why focus on it now? It has some magical significance for the Yellow Sign. Something about the Pact being weaker? Who knows, those guys are nuts. While they're being dealt with by other heroes, we focus on our daily life in Freedom City. Heroes with equally important tasks. Grimalkin, fae hero of great power. Spitfire, twisted firestarter. Red Moon, 'vampire'. Scion, former Olympian goddess. Going about their days as usual. Maybe they're fighting crime. Maybe they're trying to watch the eclipse (Good luck, only 70ish percent in New Jersey!)
  9. The Nothing From Coming For You (IC)

    August 2017 The Antarctic Circle Archetech Antarctic #006 (Outside Temperature -50 F) (Outside Sky Dark) "Okay, ladies, you are officially past the Antarctic Circle!" The Archetech copilot had been quite solicitous to Dragonfly and Jill O'Cure once she'd learned it was the two superheroines' first visit to Antarctica. "Welcome to the Real Down Under!" Keri Russet's Australian accent was thick; she'd worked for the Australian Antarctic Division before being hired on by Archetech as a helicopter pilot. She grinned, her head ducked low in the cramped confines of the back of the helicopter. On the one hand, the electrically-driven helicopter was a technological marvel, big as a Chinook but faster, with an engine specially modified to work in the extreme cold of the Antarctic winter. On the one hand, it was a helicopter with a passenger compartment about the size of a small bus, and Ellie and Mara had been riding in it since they'd taken off from in Rio Gallegos around the beginning of their subjective night. That had been after the connecting flight from Buenos Aires, and that had been after flying down from Freedom City. It had been a long couple of days. "With the winds the way they are and with these new engines, we're about two hours out of Ellsworth Base, so you might as well get comfortable," she offered to the two costumed heroes. "Things are a bit rugged down there - and I should know, Keith and I are gonna bunk down there till you fly out again." The pilot, a deep-voiced man with a Nigerian accent, was still up front. "You ladies must be pretty special," she added cheerfully, "you earned Keith and me both triple-pay for flying you in in the middle of winter! I'm gonna take my kids to Disneyland when this is done." The message had come for Dragonfly by long-distance text, a legacy of the tightened bandwidth at an Archetech temporary base in Antarctica at the height of the Antarctic winter. "URGENT AID NEEDED: TECH PROBLEM - MA. CONFIDENTIAL. PERSONAL PROBLEM - C." Miss Americana hadn't been around much during that summer, and come to think of it neither had Harrier, having left word with the Interceptors that he was going to be out of communication until the holiday season. Once they'd passed certain tests to prove it was a real message, had come the instructions for how to get where they were going - an Archetech "geological base" (according to their website) located in the heart of Antarctica's Ellsworth Mountains. In winter.
  10. Here Comes The General (Open)

    Kesteven 79 system Coalition Victory Station Imperial Year 0, Day 0 One way or another, Sharl Tulink had all of 36 hours in Coalition space before he had to be transmitted back home to the body waiting for him back in Emerald City. He had friends, family, a city to protect - and an employer who had high expectations about his report on post-Incursion Lor technology and its adaptability for Terrestrial purposes. He had just one last thing to do - to act as bodyguard for the woman who he hoped would be the next Imperator of the Lor Republic. He knew the Imperator's duties well enough from his early education in Tronik, for all that the Republic he'd learned about had been just a few centuries removed from its imperial days: the Imperator on the one hand had little power "reigning, but not ruling" - but on the other hand as the voice of the people against the state, as the symbol of all the Lor revered about themselves, and as the person who actually selected the ministers of government from the ranks of the Senate and the people - well, it all came down to how you used your power. In the first election since the Incursion, filling a spot left vacant after the old Imperator and its family had gone with the rest of Lor-Van, the question of how the Imperator's power would be used wasn't as easy to answer as it once had been. Sharl wanted Grand Nauarchus Bucklin Frankan to be the one who found the new answers to that question; and not just because he hoped that her election would be a stepping-stone to Terran unification and joining the Republic. The Lor needed to be strong again after the horrific things they'd lost, and from all he'd seen, she was the best candidate for the job. He took the lead as Frankan's party walked into their station quarters, scanning the suite with his internal sensors as a supplement to the scanning already done by the station's security staff. "It's clean," he said after a moment. "No listening devices or bombs - and I think the station commander left a box of sweets in the refresher." "She must be angling for a promotion," commented Frankan with a wry smile as she entered the room just behind Citizen. "Thank you, Citizen Tulink. As always, your work here has been invaluable." As the two spoke, Frankan's staff, almost all of them uniformed officers either in the Star Navy or in one of its planetary militias, were filling the rooms, setting up gear and calls, getting ready for the media presence they were about to encounter. It was tradition in the Republic that on Election Night, the candidates for Imperator shared the same space at the same time as a way of promoting amity (and as a way of preventing assassination attempts). This year, this election, this day - it was Coalition Victory Station that would see the two candidates together. A quick glance out the window (with the help of tapping into the station's external sensors) showed Sharl a three-dimensional sphere buzzing with spaceships, a volume he hadn't seen since the end of the Incursion - military vessels armed to the teeth to prevent another attack, civilian ships, Grue Individuality vessels with their usual hodgepodge of designs, and countless others. Between the press, the spectators, and the parties of the two candidates, the interior of the station was packed to the gills even beyond its usual large population. It was going to be a busy day and a half.
  11. GM The Loiterer, Osshrak Commerical Station, Edge of the Orto Nebula The Loiterer was one of the few establishments on OCS that weren’t subject to strict security. Hence, it was where the traders, crewmembers and other assorted folks with shady histories, bounties on their heads, or just a certain sense of adventure, stayed. OCS itself was not particularly notable, a medium size trading hub serving as a refuelling station for a few long routes. And, thanks to its position, a popular destination in some traveller circles. Not that any of them would ever come to a place like the Loiterer, where the weekly maintenance budget could probably buy you two or three glasses at most. It was by far not the worst place Bliss had ever been in, still. The past few days had been rather unspectacular, and there wasn’t really much of a reason to even stay. Or at least there hadn’t been, until a somewhat familiar face entered the building. Large, muscular and grey. Like always, wearing a white helmet. Kresh Melek, one of the Praetorians. Bliss had seen her before. And for a Praetorian to be in a place like this, it had to mean something.
  12. (IC) Beloved Monster

    September 2017 Freedom City They'd tried to fool Aquaria. The Freedom League had called her in to consult about a tribe of Deep Ones passing through a city on the East Coast. She'd told them the truth as far as she could tell; that the tribe passing through was small and isolated, hunter-gatherers rather than would-be conquerors. They'd probably take what food they could find from undersea and then move on. That had been enough - they'd let her go back with the promise that these Deep Ones would be unmolested. They hadn't told her out loud what she was looking at, not in so many words, but she knew the bottom of Great Bay readily enough. A Deep One tribe was here, right here - and so familiar! It was late in early September, in the middle of the long Labor Day weekend, when Sea Devil dived into Great Bay and swam deep, her armor open to the sea around her. It was, it would always be, like coming home. She'd let Jessie stay home for this one, buried deep in her studies. This was something she had to do all by herself...
  13. (IC) You May Not Believe In Me

    August 2, 2017 Freedom Medical Center Keeping things low-profile, as was the plan, meant that any image Mark had had of landing on the rooftop were quickly stifled by the reality of the need to look like any typical expectant family and friends arriving at the hospital late at night. Redbird dropped them off at the front doors and they headed inside, where the front desk attendant quickly directed them towards the secure elevator to the maternity ward. On the sixth floor. As the elevator ascended, an ominous rumble came from somewhere in the shaft - but Mark looked up and declared out loud, “No!” And with that, they continued to their destination, where as parents in labor but not particularly active labor, Mark and Nina were immediately handed a large pile of forms. Ready to walk around instead of wait, Nina handed them quickly to Mark. By the time they were about to head for their secure room, two visitors arrived. Iyar al-Iryani was the first of the extra guests to arrive, sweeping Nina up in a careful hug briefly stymied by another contraction. But Nina seemed to appreciate the company, and Iyar took her other hand. “Just think, Nina,” said Iyar with animation on her face. “Someday this day will be a holiday.” “You’re right,” said Nina, smiling at the thought. “This will be a good day - no, a great one.” “Thank you so much for all this,” Iyar said to Trevor and Erin, her accent notably thicker than her friend’s. “You will be remembered on this day.” She knew the Liberty League well enough to know who had planned all this. Exchanging a glance with Erin Trevor suggested, “Best left out of history books, maybe.” Having a commemorative plaque in their honor in some Socotran municipal park might be tough to explain down the line. Something reminiscent of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth all the same. “Will settle for favourite American uncle.” Erin had stationed herself at the entrance to the elevator lobby, keeping an eye on the stairs and the banks of elevators all at once. She was close enough to hear the conversation, but far enough away from the action for comfort. Part of her job in the grand scheme of things had been screening content to show to Mark to keep him grounded in the reality of normal childbirth, and it had been… educational. Now that she was married and in her twenties, the idea of wanting children wasn’t nearly as foreign to Erin as it would’ve been even five years ago, but the getting of them was still a daunting proposition. “Yeah, aunt and uncle should work just fine.” “Oh, you guys…” Mark was close to tears, maybe because the moment was so emotional, maybe from fatigue, but Nina, still walking around, was articulate enough to say, “Thank you both so much. We owe you our lives, and so does our son, as soon as he makes his way out here…” Things got a little more complicated with the arrival of Martha Lucas, carrying a grandmother’s big bag of goodies over her shoulder and looking a little out of breath. Things weren’t exactly frosty between Mark’s mother and the rest of the Liberty League, but they weren’t quite friendly either - not with the lingering memories of what she’d done to Mark when he’d been in high school just before the barely-prevented end of the multiverse. But Mark had put those memories aside and obviously wanted his friends to do the same - especially today! Luckily they had this small suite of rooms and waiting room to themselves tonight - even in Freedom City, the metahuman wing of the hospital wasn’t so crowded in the dead of night when there wasn’t a major super-battle going on. Hot on Martha’s heels came Dr. Hussein, the Iraqi-born physician who was working as Nina’s primary ob-gyn. The hijab-wearing woman was no-nonsense and intimately familiar with all sorts of metahuman health issues, particularly maternal ones - she was exactly the kind of person Mark and Nina had been hoping to find. “All right, it’s time to go to work,” she said briskly. “Mother, let’s get you in your room - Father, we’re going to need you in just a few minutes…” Mark had been sitting his mother down and making sure she had her books and her sketchpad, now with Nina heading off to the delivery room, he found another moment for Erin and Trevor. “Okay, guys - I’ll keep you updated as much as I can. In another couple of hours, you’re going to meet my son!” He hugged Erin, and he hugged Trevor, and seemed to take a moment to gather himself, pushing aside his own nerves and jangling emotions for the support role he was going to play. “I’m gonna be a dad!” And with that, he headed off to join his wife in their hospital room! Nina and Mark had discussed their birth plan with Trevor and Erin ahead of time, just to make sure everyone knew what was what. Nina had intended to use an epidural and take her chances with a possible C-section, but strong painkillers and other sorts of sedatives usually made her powers unstable. That meant a natural birth, albeit one spent mostly in the tub full of warm water that Mark had practiced making until he could practically do it in his sleep. Since this was Nina’s first pregnancy, what that really meant for the people outside the delivery room was a lot of waiting as the hours of the late morning crept by into dawn, punctuated by occasional sounds from inside the room (mostly of Nina’s music, an Eritrean pop star she found soothing) and texted updates from Mark. Hours ticked by - not enough for it to actually be light outside but it was definitely thinking about it out there . Martha Lucas set aside the drawing of Mark and Nina she was working on and immediately dozed off in her chair. Iyar talked with Trevor and Erin about the refugee resettlement service where she volunteered - and then the lights flickered, just slightly, then again. Though they came back on, the effect was unsettling, especially when Erin and Trevor’s communicators both chimed with the fuzzy, static-heavy sound of Redbird’s voice. “<empora> <ncursio> <ospita>. <eav> <nterferenc>.”
  14. ((Welcome to Eve and Becky’s Big Enormous Wedding Thread! In the vein of With Lovers and Friends I Still Can Recall this is a way to tell a big story from many different perspectives. Below you’ll find a rough timeline for the day including some details of location and timing, as well as some story hooks requiring superhero intervention. This thread is open to everyone to post vignettes and mini-vignettes telling their characters’ stories from that day. Because this is not a traditional vignette prompt (read: you do not get vignette reward PP for this) but it is also not a regular thread, we’re relaxing many of the normal posting rules. Your vignettes can be of any length - a full page is not required - and you may post more than one per character if you wish. The prohibition on multiple characters per thread is also lifted, so post with as many of your characters as you have stories for. Double and triple vignettes are still allowed, if you so desire and also have no length requirement. As vignettes are added by players the events of the day will be further detailed. Later posters should try and read the vignettes that came before them so they can be sure their work will fit into the developing timeline. That does not mean vignettes have to be in chronological order! Feel free to jump ahead or backfill anywhere you like, so long as it is on the wedding day. Story hooks are first come, first serve, so posting early isn’t a bad idea. If you don’t believe your character would’ve been invited to the wedding feel free to post stories about your character protecting the city while a sizable chunk of its superhero population is taking the night off. Feel free to ask in chat if you have any questions and have fun!)) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Once upon a time, two girls fell in love. Then one of the girls was possessed by a cannibalistic spirit of avarice, for which the other girl blamed herself and as second dates go it honestly could have gone better. They spent too long apart before finding each other again, reigniting a spark that had never gone out. They had adventures together, lived together not nearly enough, missed each other far too much, celebrated and mourned and eventually they decided that together was absolutely better than apart. Finally, on an August afternoon in a castle in the sky, there was a wedding. All of their friends were invited and even if not everything went as planned there aren't many obstacles a bunch of superheroes can't overcome if sufficiently determined and their friends were determined that the happy couple should live happily ever after, at least for today. Preparations for the wedding began in the morning at the Dutemps Building, with Becky and an impressive collection of Canada's greatest living champions in the penthouse apartments at the top and Eve and her bridesmaids - and one Maidnight - up in the castle. There were caterers and decorators and the mother-of-all-florists running about, which made things a little complicated for some of the obviously non-human guests! Mani-pedis, makeup, lots of last-minute advice and a champagne brunch rounded out the morning for the wedding party, along with a few shenanigans designed to make sure that the brides didn’t encounter each other before the ceremony. In the afternoon, all the dressing-up began in earnest, and then the pictures. So many pictures, professional and otherwise, with people who don’t often get photographed with their own faces and looking their best. The photographers didn’t always confine themselves to the wedding party either, arriving guests might find themselves captured on film a few times for the album. The venue was beautiful, the Gothic Revival-style chapel dedicated to St. Jeanne d'Arc was illuminated with gorgeous light through its stained glass windows and bedecked with flowers. There were a few diversions to entertain the guests, a book to sign, a little display of childhood photos of the brides, a table of snacks. There was also a nasty elevator malfunction in one of the private elevators leading up into the castle but it was sorted by helpful guests before it became a real problem. As the 3:00 PM wedding start time approached guests began to move to their seats while music played and a breeze whispered through the trees. The ceremony was beautiful and quite peaceful, though it’s hard to say what behind-the-scenes machinations may have been required to keep it that way. Jack Pegahmagabow and Eden Espadas nearly stole the show as ring-bearer and flower girl, despite subtle interventions from their uncle and parents, respectively. Otherwise, the simple and brief service, conducted by Claremont’s headmaster emeritus Duncan Summers, was focused on Becky and Eve, who stood under a flowered trellis to exchange handwritten vows and rings in front of all their friends and family. With the business of the day taken care of it was time to celebrate! The castle’s ballroom had been prepared in a fine faux-Medieval style, with dinners, drinks, and dancing inside a hall bright enough to pass for a fairy tale. A minor problem in the kitchen was quickly sorted and if the happy couple disappeared from their own party for a little while before arriving for dinner, nobody was inclined to say anything about it. There were toasts and a few short speeches after supper and then the happy couple opened the dancing with a slow turn on the dance floor to an original 1930 recording of Lucienne Boyer's Parlez-Moi d’Amour, one taken right from the Crimson Fox's personal collection. The dancing went on late into the night, helped along by a custom coffee bar manned by two experienced baristas. At one point in the evening, the power went off for nearly ten minutes, but inventive guests worked around it and the problem was quickly solved. Eve and Becky left around 9:00 in a hail of bubbles and sparks and flowers and beams of light from their friends, taking off in the private elevator up to the castle's master living quarters. Even with the guests of honor gone there was plenty of partying left to do, and it wasn’t till nearly midnight that things quieted down and the cleanup could begin.
  15. A Peculiar Proposition (Open)

    Oddfellows Building, Lantern Hill 7:02 PM, August 15th. The room was rented out for a little meeting of practitioners, the invites had gone out, including to one Professor Peculiar. It was intended as a social gathering of sorts, and people had already shown up as well, mostly with people who were familiar, or at least seen as people who were factors in and around West Freedom. It was put forth by a Stavros, owner of the most amazing tea shop (if he was asked) in the West End, an older man who possessed of the most impressive mustache in the Tri-State area. He was humming as he was making some tea here. In additional there was the short, punky looking Shaul, a local artist, and other things, she had a battered and patched denim vest, with a a hoodie pulled over her face a cup of steaming cup of Stavros' special mint tea. Chatting with Shaul was an older woman, Amanda, who owned an herbal, and wildcraft supplies store. Unlike the younger woman, Amanda was dressed conservatively, a bit like the liberal soccer mom type. There was also a young couple, who may, or may not, had a bit of talent, James and Kendra, but they were both Anthropology students at FCU so were interested in this. This collection was capped off by a 'cowboy singer' off to one side, who was looking passed out with a hat pulled down over his face, and slumped in a chair. One Johnny Perdition. The tattooed and hard living member of this loose affiliation.
  16. Soot & Cinders

    Matt had been waiting for her. He'd been trying ever-so-hard to not look like he'd been waiting for her, and on a normal day he probably could have pulled it off with his well-honed apathy and a set of scout dogs, but there was something under his skin and it was making him somewhat less than subtle. And so he paced, or tapped his foot, or drummed fingers against his knee to some song in his head, all while periodically pulling at a bandage wrapped tightly around his left forearm. He'd tried rolling the sleeves of his black overshirt down to cover it, but they didn't cover quite enough of his wrist and at some point he'd just given up. He'd given up on a lot of things, really. "Raina!" So much for playing it cool, well done. He pulled at the bandage again, unconsciously, pulling back a bit so that she didn't feel like she was getting ambushed outside her last class for the day. "It's...not that big a deal, but I could use a favor. Maybe. I'd definitely owe you one - heck, I'd owe you two, if it goes well."
  17. June 4, 2017 The rails out of Greenbank might not have run trains out to Goldman Quarry anymore but that didn't mean the abandoned hole in the ground never saw visitors. At some point in the early aughts a Claremont student who's name had been lost to the annals of high school history had hit upon the quarry as a good place to test out powers a little too destructive for supervised sessions in the Doom Room and the location had been passed from rebel to loner to misunderstood problem child. Every few years the faculty had reason to make it clear that students were to stay well away from the quarry but those who made use of it tended to prefer asking forgiveness rather than permission anyway. At least that's how Riley had explained it to Winifred after they'd begun searching for somewhere to test the new explosives they'd been tinkering with in the chemistry lab. "You're sure you know where you're going?" the alchemist shouted over the noise of the wind, seated behind the survivalist on his motorcycle. They'd already driven clear across the length of the city from Bayview but she still hadn't decided which was the more terrifying conveyance between Smith's bike and Sanderson's flying broomstick.
  18. Skyjam(IC)

    GM July 30th, 2017, 12.12PM Nolan Airfields, Emerald City @olopi @Sailor Nolan Aerospace's proud and elite cadre of pilots, trained in the rigors of modern search, rescue and survival techniques, were assembled on the airfield for a very abrupt mission. Also in attendance was a smaller team of marginally less-fit people, almost all with glasses and pale skin from a decade or so indoors. "Okay, team, this is the situation!" Carrie Ping had to yell to be heard over the spectral howling that rang in the air. With one hand busy holding her coat's neon orange hood down, she used the one with the tablet to point at the scene right above their heads. An enormous, pulsating cloud of neon green, violet and orange swam and writhed a hundred thousand feet in the air, wrapped and skulming over the chassis of an immobile passenger jet. Sometimes the forms that burst from the cloud, or coalesced within its depths, looked almost human. Like people screaming and struggling to escape. But they always collapsed back into the great morass. The shadows it cast across the Emerald Cities Valley weaved with colour to create some truly unsettling sights. "We have no idea what that is, or what it's doing! ASTRO Labs and Archetech claim it's some kind of partial tear in our dimensional fabric, but even that much isn't for sure! All we know is it burst out of nowhere, grabbed the plane and started screaming!" "J-C Base dispatched some recon craft, but they couldn't even get into the cloud! Archetech has called Citizen, but he won't be here for hours, something's going on over in 'Jersey! Your job is to try and get to the plane, free it if possible!" The screams rose to a howling shriek, like the inner wall of a cyclone. For a moment everyone there had to cover their ears and wait for the rattling in their skulls to stop. "If not-! Sweet Sidda, my ears...if not, evacuate everyone you can! Techs, WestRock probably already told you, but you're needed in case the plane's systems are damaged, and all of it runs on WestRock software!" With a semi-free hand, Carrie pointed to Anne, Jaime and Hakim. "You three! You get to take point! The rest will follow your lead! Jaime, is the Peregrine prepped and ready?" "'Course she is, boss! No thanks to the pilot!" The red-haired woman who'd answered grinned easily and looked thoroughly relaxed, despite the bizarre situation. Putting an arm around Anne's shoulder she squeezed against her "Just my luck I love a sleepyhead!" "That's great!" Carrie gave a thoroughly unenthusiastic thumbs-up "Go with peace, people! We'll be praying for your safe return! Please, please, please do not do anything stupid to try and be heroes!" She gave a sharp wave to encompass the group as a whole "Dismissed! Everyone to your stations! Good luck!"
  19. Crystal History

    Freedom City, New Jersey Thursday, 23 March 2017 Afternoon Arthur Campbell was many things to many different people. He was a world-renowned geologist, a contemporary of Edmund Hillary, one of the last great explorers, a guest lecturer at HIT and FCU, He was a philanthropist and a regular figure in Freedom City's gala scene, always a perfect gentleman and the life of the party. He also had excellent taste as he had requested the help of Samantha Carson when he ran into a sticky problem with some crystals. He was also a figure of interest to the police, given the number of police cars gathered around his North Point mansion and the police tape across the entrance. Samantha Carson was parked on the side of the road, watching the flurry of police activity. She was supposed to be meeting with Arthur in, well, about thirty seconds, but driving through a police cordon would make that much more complicated.
  20. The Doctor Is OUT [IC]

    GM When Tristan Delacroix first disappeared, the initial reaction at the party was simply bewilderment. No one panicked, thanks to the lack of apparent trauma. Even after the young doctor failed to pop up from beneath the outdoor table, his family and coworkers weren't sure what to make of it. But soon Alexander called the police, and then a few of his friends in local government to ensure that law enforcement was properly motivated. AEGIS quickly took an interest too; jurisdictional protocols kept them from claiming the case for themselves without more evidence of superhuman involvement, but they nonetheless dispatched Agent Thornton, who only just closed her last case involving a Delacroix abduction. And Thornton, smart enough to use all the assets at her disposal, put out a broadcast on the International Air Distress frequency for Miracle Girl. That hero's contribution, sadly, came down to looking around the estate and confirming that, yep, the little dude was gone. She didn't find any cackling villains lurking in the bushes, or ultraviolet ransom notes waiting for her eyes only; theories abounded among the regular investigators, but evidence did not. Casey might need some help with this one. * * * Calls were made, the media took note, and by the time that dawn lit Delvin's upper roof--a house so frivolously large that it looked like a posh, poorly-located shopping mall, because no private residence had any business being this big--his stone driveway was full of police cruisers and black SUVs with government plates. News vans lined the nearest public road. Tristan wasn't quite so well-known as the older two brothers, but he'd still draw in viewers, and if he didn't, then reporters could still find something worth their time here. They hovered just beyond the police barricades, hungry but patient. This was Freedom City, and sooner or later, heroes were bound to show up.
  21. Psichology [IC]

    GM Content Note: Disturbing Content, maybe a little Gore "Then we have an accord." The voice was deep and smooth, but its words dropped like stones into a grave. He took his bargains seriously; even a verbal agreement strummed with power, especially in this place-between-places. His new partner, however temporary, swallowed hard. Baku the dream demon was ancient by human standards; he fed in infancy on the nightmares of early Japanese hunter-gatherers, more than ten thousand years ago. His travels across the world spawned numerous myths, and with those myths he himself changed. Few had seen more of this planet's history--open and secret, the history of shadows and unseen things, hidden behind walls that were themselves beyond most mortals' comprehension--than he, but one such person stood before him now. The deal he made tonight linked him to someone whose age dwarfed his own by orders of magnitude--who, too, walked freely through the borderlands and laughed at barriers meant to hold back flesh and blood. Baku knew he wasn't the first spirit to make a deal of this sort, although he couldn't understand this person's interest here. What does it matter? What does it matter, so long as he gives me what I need? Looming over the tiny demon, the sorcerer held out a swirling globe of pure magic--a thing of beautiful light that defied color schemes, its shining particles moving in directions that corresponded to no physical space. A living spell, ready to take effect even without its master present...for the right price. And that price, Baku paid. He told his partner of the things he had seen, spying invisible and intangible on his enemy and those associated with him. He dared not come close to Presto the Preposterous in the waking world, not after their last meeting. He certainly would not risk approaching the terrible creature that had taken Presto under her dark and bloodstained wing. Only from a distance had he watched, and through the bland, dull nightmares of average mortals. Their memories often came secondhand, mere rumors, but some rumors spoke loudly. Beware the Grimalkin! When they were done, when Baku had been wrung dry of everything he knew or suspected, his tall companion at last presented him with the spell. Baku took it in his little claws and chortled. Vengeance would be his! He stepped sideways through the walls of reality and went to find a dream.
  22. This is a mistake, Tristan Delacroix thought glumly as he waited on the moonlit beach. Tonight he was a slender, middle aged man, tanned to the point of leathery wrinkles. Freedom City wasn't known for its surfing, and furthermore this was the wrong time of year for it anyway, but the disguise still brought him some comfort. Just some guy enjoying the beach, late at night. If only the rest of his plan was as simple. He spent the whole day second-guessing himself. Easy enough to think about inviting an outsider to his new lair--well, no, even that wasn't very easy--but actually following through with the idea brought the risks to the forefront of his mind and pushed all possible rewards to deep, dark corners. Even just Bonfire, whom he trusted fairly well by this point, could cause him terrible harm. Perhaps just inadvertently; trusting the other hero's motives wasn't the same as putting potentially his entire heroic career in Bonfire's smoky hands. The blog deal hasn't backfired yet, he reminded himself. No, no, that's unfair. It's going well. That's probably how Rayzer heard of me, so failing all else, at least Bonfire is effective. That guy was all the way on the West Coast! I could probably go to space and get recognized before long. At any rate, it was too late now. He had already contacted his "publicist" to request a meeting, with vague details, and most dangerous of all, advised Bonfire to bring a camera. Tristan was sure that he could pick and choose what was photographed, but would that be enough? What if he missed something? He imagined a fan intensely studying their computer screen for clues, and finding a loose thread that unraveled the whole tapestry he spent years creating. Never before had his cover story felt so flimsy. Tristan shivered from more than the chilly air, but didn't leave the beach. All he could do was proceed with watchful caution and trust his ally. Time would tell if that was enough.
  23. Long Way Down(IC)

    September 4th, 2017, 10.45AM Atlantis, The First Circle, 4 1/2 miles beneath the surface The Tethys slid into the dock, great arms reaching out of the glittering darkness to hold it fast. Hundreds of meters from bow to stern, the craft was Atlantis' principal ambassadorial ship, made to resemble a stylized whale. For the last two hours it had made the lengthy, swift passage to the Wizard's Rest, carrying diplomats and representatives from dozens of nations, organizations and interests. Among them were the supremely British extradimensional envoy Lord Steam and Dol-Druth the Speaker, face of an alien hivemind. The lounge door opened, admitting Ventures Lina and Atherus. Lina spoke first, saying gravely "We have arrived, thank you for you patience." Uniformed in deep blue, metallic green and silver, the Atlantean envoys looked nigh-identical in their space-age fibers and short-cropped black hair and closed green eyes. Lina tapped a crystal on her left bracer, at which the disembarkment hatch opened up across the lounge's outer wall, letting down a ramp 80 feet down to the dock below, up which a squad of Atlantean soldiers and a blonde woman in flowing red metal began to walk. There were murmurs and the discreet snapping of photos as the shining expanse of Atlantis, city of science and sorcery, lay revealed. At first blush, it strongly resembled great rings of luminescent sea coral. Envoy Lina gestured politely to the approaching party "Princess Thetis will escort you to the Palace of Poseidon, where you will have a chance to rest and refresh yourselves after your long journey. Atherus and I will accompany you and ensure you see all you wish and go where you will. Please collect your personal items before you leave, the Tethys may be called into action and we do not wish for you to lose anything, should the vessel be damaged." The surfacers wasted no time, many hurrying to their cabins while others collected the luggage that had never left their side. Dol-Druth snorted, heaving his enormous, corpse-white bulk to his feet, his eyes flashing faintly blue as he called on some of the shared brainpower of his people to complete the process. He had carried nothing with him but a small all-metal suitcase. "A hospitable people, Lord Steam," he remarked, turning his cold black eyes and twitching his antennae in the direction of the oncoming Atlanteans "we suspect they will want a great deal in return. Your thoughts?"
  24. GM The lunch room of Ripley High School was all abuzz with the latest gossip. The star of the school's football team, Ross Montana, had gotten into a scuffle with his best friend and local farmboy Anthony Anderson . Apparently, the well off Montana's family was buying up local plots in a bid to begin an industrial farming operation in Ripley. A business that would almost assuredly put the Anderson family out of business. Both teens could be seen on opposite ends of the lunch room, only fueling the rumor mill all the more. "You owe me twenty cents." A soft voice whispered from behind before setting a carton of milk in front of Dancia Devons. The cheery faced red headed girl made her way over to the other side of the lunch table. "So what did you get on Mrs. Greenwalt's test? I'll be done for after my mom sees my grades."
  25. And All the Devils Here [IC]

    Celestial Spirit Fellowship Tuesday, July 10th, 2017 7:32 PM The heat was breaking as the sun dragged down towards the horizon. But it still felt hot enough to light a fuse. Samantha Lemire sat on a graffiti-splattered bench in front of the shelter, nursing a cigarette like a shipwrecked man might nurse clean water. She looked out on the dirty street as the lamps flickered and fought against the twilight. As a charity worker in the Country Club, Sam had seen a lot and handled half of it with her own two hands. On a number of those occasions, she'd wished she'd had thicker gloves. But she knew what it was like to get her hands dirty and deal with the muck of the world. Not like this, though. This was something else entirely. She fought against her nerves as the steel door to the shelter scraped open. She turned to find Michael, one of the volunteers, waiting in the frame. "They show up yet?" "No. How's our... guest?" "He's fine. Sleeping it off, for now. As for the rest of him --" "Just focus on the bit that's sleeping. The others?" "They're fine, for now. If he wakes up..." Sam shook her head. "I gave him enough Benadryl that he could sleep through the Fourth of July." "You could have used the Haldol --" "There are people who need that. And he's not mad. As we know it." She turned back to the street, waiting for her guests. "Mind you, I'm sure these guys know it better..."
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