Thunder King

"That the Curator was an old Centurion foe, honestly. I'm not the best student of superhero history. I know, I know, I should know more, but, eh, I was a good student because I'm a hard worker, not because I'm extra smart. Honestly I'm still not sure what was going on that day, what the plan was."

"So that day was absolutely insane for me. I was a member of the teen superhero team Young Freedom. They went through several versions over the years and, as far as I know, the name was retired. Anyway, so we ended up in a universe where the Nazis won on a secret mission. Then we popped back in to this universe and we were pretty much right on top of the north pole. I don't understand regular science that well, let alone whatever caused that!" She took a deep breath. "We had no idea what was going on on Earth, our Earth, at the time. When we got back and started getting communications in, everything was in chaos and we realized we were the only notable heroes from around Freedom City that were in any position to do anything. That's when we spotted the Curator. It was at the Centurion's place up there. We didn't know what it wanted, but we knew we had to stop it. I can't imagine it wanted anything good if it felt it needed to do all that stuff to accomplish it's goals. We broke into it's ship, beat up a ton of robots, and drove it off." She was a bit stressed, and that was obvious. However, everything that happened that day, all the bad stuff, ended up evening out more or less. At least, for her. She took a deep breath. "And that's where I was when the Curator attacked, fighting it with the team I was on."

"Well, I've been a superhero for quite a while now. I practice the martial art of Muay Thai, which started in my ancestral home of Thailand. I'm not from Thailand, but my family is from there. Muay Thai is different from other styles because it involves a lot of knee and elbow strikes, body parts that aren't emphasized in other martial arts styles. I try to keep a lot of stuff under my secret identity otherwise."

"Oh I've managed to get past all that." She said. "It was a while ago and I'm feeling a lot more comfortable with my role in what happened that day. If I wasn't comfortable with this, I wouldn't have agreed. Ask me anything. Other than secret ID stuff, of course, yes, I prefer Crimson Tiger." She smiled. "How's Will doing? We weren't exactly close, but we were somewhat familiar with one another, you know?" She started walking towards the interview area.

"I'm feeling good. I get it if I need a little makeup so I don't, you know, look dead. We're here interviewing Crimson Tiger, a zombie that wandered onto the set. How are the brains?" She laughed. "Yeah I don't wear too much makeup, but I know how tv works with that. I'm a bit stronger, yeah, I keep up my training." She looked around. "So, anything I should know before you start asking questions?"

Mali, in costume, stepped out just in time. When they contacted her for an interview, she was more than willing. That day had been quite a day for her, and, in many ways, had helped change her life. She had spent years getting past the trauma of seeing the Headmaster get killed and watching that Nazi boy die and...well, now she was older, more mature, and in a better place mentally and emotionally. She walked with better certainty, poise and purpose than she had when she was a teenager. She still wasn't fond of 'schmoozing', but she intended to have this conversation as an adult. "Hello. I look forward to this." She said. "I'm fascinated to see what you guys do with this information! I love the show, by the way. Seriously. After finding out that the parents of someone I knew were the hosts, I started watching it and got hooked." She nodded. "I'm Crimson Tiger. Nice to meet you all."

Voltage began the download and monitored it carefully. One advantage to having such a computer like brain was that he could monitor data quickly enough to make sure nothing happened. "Transfer is happening exactly as intended." He said. He sat back and monitored it. He realized that the situation had become very precarious. What, precisely, was going on? His social skills were even rustier than before his isolation, and he wasn't exactly on the ball before that. Perhaps he should study up on social interaction, get a better grasp of it. Ah well, nothing he can do now.

Voltage was active on Day of Wrath, AND is an expert on technology. Crimson Tiger was actually there on the assault on the Curator, so if there's a convincing cover story she could participate!

Voltage sat down and began to do exactly that, creating two distinct data partitions. He made sure that neither were accessible from within the system, and vice versa. Nothing uploaded would be able to affect anything else on the system. He was actually a bit rusty working with his own hands. He was used to using his powers to do so. "Won't take more than a few minutes." He said. He could have gotten it done in seconds with his powers, but the old fashioned way was a bit slower.

Voltage popped back in with the equipment, and Eira. He had given just a quick explanation of what was going to happen, and the two arrived with the electronics. He went back, gently explained what was going to happen, and brought Gonzalez back with him.] "Sorry for the abruptness. I figured you'd rather be fast and startled, than slow. I have the equipment." He looked at the patient. "Do we have the facilities to fabricate a new body for him? I can create a data partition to copy his mind into if needed. What's the situation. How can I help?"

Voltage is going to follow Gonzales and make a quick scan of the gear they brought with them. He's going to note anything that might be dangerous or problematic using his Knowledge Technology. Taking 20 (thank you mental quickness!) For a 41

Voltage passes the knowledge Tech checks by taking 10 EDIT: Also the streetwise and civics stuff, but not the notice checks EDIT 2: And Quickness 8 takes care of the Notice check

Voltage followed the instructions to the best of his ability, but he was clearly awaiting assistance. He had fixed, repaired and worked on a great deal of technology, but he had never tried to save a life before. He wondered if pieces of his own suit could be used to help the man. He wondered a lot about what he could do to help.

No point in Voltage trying. He is more focused on saving his life

Voltage was not an expert in cybernetics, but he was an expert in technology. More to the point, in that moment, he was capable of getting to the injured man more quickly than anyone else. "I'm going to teleport to Helipad 3 now." He said. "Please, send me coordinates to guide him to the best place to treat him. I'll teleport him there." With that, he dissolved into silvery bolts of electricity. Moments later, he had the injured Irons in the coordinates sent to him by Eira. He focused on the network in the facility, and said. "I'm sorry to patch into the system this way, but Agent Irons is in the facility. If you have any data on his physiology that I can use for triage, please send it now. I am...not an expert on saving lives, and would appreciate it if anyone can get here to help. I'll do what I can with what I've got for now."

"Does the facility need much reworking and renovation? Honestly it's been quite a while since I had to stretch my mind on this sort of problem. Hmm, independent electrical system, security system, hmm, R&D. Ah, yes, custom server. Totally secure." It was evident that he was designing the entire facility as he stood there, thinking almost absentmindedly. "Ah, sorry, I realize this is not, actually, my own facility. I've created a document with my thoughts and ideas, I can share it with you if you like." Then, he reconsidered. "Actually, why don't we create a document for everyone to submit ideas? That way we don't have to hash out the whole thing while we stand here."

Voltage leaned in, curious. "I concur. We're not just superheroes. I mean, no disrespect to other heroes, but I think when you can do good, you do good. Even if it's not stopping villains. I'm very intrigued." His mind whirled with possibilities, as he assumed everyone else's did. He could imagine a robust security system, a complex system of various labs, safety protocols. If they asked for his input which, they might, he would have a fully formed design document, a list of possible grants and sponsors to seek, and a number of proposals ready in minutes. He was already searching the internet, looking for options.

"Human interaction is important...yes. I had to remember that one, myself.." Voltage said. He had met her before her current body. As for him, he had put on a bit of weight since coming out of isolation, looking quite a bit healthier. She would probably remember him best from when his hair was near shoulder length and gray, not the close cropped white that it currently was. He was still getting used to being in public, and was visibly a little bit on edge. Though, being around fellow scientists and people he knew was putting him a lot more at ease. They would forgive him his eccentricities. After all, most scientists have eccentricities.

Echoes of Legacy Crimson Tiger Mali clutched her knees. Her breath was ragged, her eyes, wide. She had traveled through dimensions, she had seen strange sights that most would never believe. She had fought alongside powerful people. What she had not ever expected was to travel through time. She had met her great-grandfather. She had met the Black Tiger. She knew how he died. She knew why he died. She knew the answer to a mystery that was nearly a hundred years old. It was a sight she would never forget. She had somehow slipped through time. She had landed in Bangkok, decades ago. From the chill of a Freedom City winter to the sultry heat of a Bangkok summer. Her great-grandfather was the tallest man of Thai descent she had ever met. He was over six feet tall, and looked every bit like the warrior she had imagined. She knew he was past his prime, but he still looked terrifying. She didn't know if she could take him. Despite her youth, her experience, and her application of 21st century science to the art they both practiced, the Black Tiger was a living legend. He had listened to her bizarre explanation. When she showed him a few family techniques, he was convinced. He had written those techniques down in a cipher and had never taught them to anyone. He was planning to. He hadn't gotten around to it, and never would. She knew that his notes would be translated some five years after his death, and would form the foundation of the style she now practiced, the Benjawan family branch of Muay Thai. They moved in concert. His blows were so precise, so powerful, that he crumped everyone he punched. He was a machine. He was a breathtaking fighter, a poet with his feet, knees, fists and elbows. He had allowed him to fight with her. She must accept that he was to die that night. She watched him throw armed men around like ragdolls. She watched him disarm them, throwing rifles and pistols away. She watched as her great-grandfather, pushing 50, kicked a man straight through a solid wooden door and stalk through the frame. She couldn't fathom fighting him in his prime. He had reach, he had power, he had experience. Even if she won, it would be rough. He had gotten a simple note earlier that evening. A massive cache of opium was moving in to Bangkok that evening. He didn't know who sent it, and he did anticipate a trap. He was the Black Tiger, and time was catching up to him. What better way to die than to do what he loved? So she stayed behind as he entered the last room. She shrank into the shadows as the gunfire rang out. Black Tiger was a master of Muay Thai, an absolute terror of a combatant, a man to fear. He was, however, a mere mortal. There were fits of gunfire, she could tell they were semi-automatic pistols, or revolvers. When silence filled the air, it took everything she had in her to avoid crying. She would have to find a way to go back home, to keep this dark secret. Black Tiger died walking into a trap. He died being shot by a dozen men with a dozen guns, and his body was tossed into the water. That was the end of her great-grandfather. That was the story she would tell her parents. The truth, however, was different. No voices spoke out when the gunfire ended. She didn't hear the shuffling of feet, or the movement of bodies. There was nothing but silence. She crept around the corner and peeked into the room. He was standing in the middle of the room with a grin on his face. Somehow, against all odds, he won. Her experience as a crime fighter showed her the secrets. He hadn't walked into the middle of an ambush. He had peeked in, shattered the light in the center of the ceiling, and bolted into the shadows. The men had all turned to follow his movements, but in the darkness they were inexperienced, and he was a master. They had spread themselves out to make sure he would arrive directly in the path of their shots, but that gave him room to move. Her great-grandfather had taken down ten armed men who intended to ambush him. “I won.” He grinned. “I thought maybe that your presence here was a clue, like you were here to see me to my grave. So I thought about how I might die. I peeked through the door and saw them standing there. Then, all I had to do was...” He began to dissolve into particles of light. He stared at his hand, blinking as every part of his body separated from the others. He didn't scream, he didn't cry out, the last look on his face was a strange, fascinated look on his face, and then a broad smile. Over the next week, she did research into the night Black Tiger died. According to family history, he had gone on one last mission. They found a bunch of armed men knocked unconscious, and seized a great deal of opium. Her great-grandfather, however, was nowhere to be found. The assumption was that he died sometime later that night. The facts matched. Black Tiger did not die that night. His great-granddaughter arrived from the future, accidentally altered the future slightly, and saved his life. Then, because he was now a paradox in time, he vanished. Maybe that's how it worked? She knew alternate timelines existed. Did she actually create one of those? If so, how, and why? She would need to speak to someone who understood time travel and alternate dimensions far more than she did. She did eventually fall asleep. Now that she had some questions she could ask, she had a problem she might be able to solve.

Name: Nicolette Lamontagne Age: 25 Occupation: Heiress, professional fencer. Home: Bordeaux France Weapon of Choice: Longsword Colors: Red, Gold Armor Description: The Lancelot armor is sleek in it's lines, giving Nicolette the maneuverability she needs to truly take advantage of her skills. It has an attached cape, but she can withdraw the cape if she needs to. She has trained in several forms of fencing, including old Medieval fencing manuals, since she was a young girl. She possesses great skill with a sword, but no other abilities except for her WonderTech armor.

Valerie was grateful for the assistance. While Colin wasn't useless in the kitchen, Thanksgiving was mostly her thing. They didn't have much of an extended family, and few who lived anywhere near Freedom City. Luckily, the Lanchesters had a toaster oven into which the biscuits could neatly fit to be warmed up. There was turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes and a spinach casserole. Valerie also made a pumpkin pie, but that, at least, wasn't homemade. Adam set the table with Colin. "So, any plans for after high school, Lulu? Adam is probably going off to college, but I think he wants to stay closer to home."

Colin nodded. "Just go down the hallway to the right. There's a bathroom, door's open, can't miss it." He said. Valerie showed Adam the turkey in the oven, and he sat down the couch to wait for Lulu to return. He put his feet up and stretched out. Colin sat down in his seat and said. "Lulu's cute, Adam." He smiled. "She seems nice." Adam nodded. "Honestly, yeah. She was one of my first real friends at Claremont, and she's been a big help in terms of just, all sorts of support, you know?' "I'm really glad that Claremont is working out. You've grown a lot."

Adam dutifully grabbed the casserole. His parents were already at the door. Adam's mom, Valerie, took the pie from her and remarked. "Oooh, I'm going to have to get a slice of that later." She stepped aside and invited Lulu into the house. Adam carried the casserole inside behind her. "Oh it's so nice to meet you!" She said. She offered Lulu a hug. Adam's mom was a rather prim woman in her late 40s, with short dark hair and a warm smile. She aged well, only really showing her age around her eyes. "Welcome, Lulu. We've heard a lot about you." Said Colin, Adam's dad. Colin looked exactly how you might expect a psychologist to look. He was a bespectacled man in his late 40s who probably wore a lot of sweaters. The living room at the Lanchester household had hardwood floors and an antique looking fireplace. It was a gas fireplace, with a roaring fire and a nice rug right in front of the fire. A little further away there was a television playing a football pregame show. There was a large coffee table in the middle of the room. "Do you drink coffee, Lulu? We've got a pot on, it's fresh."

Adam smiled. "Oh don't worry about it. If you need to freshen up, freshen up after a bit. We'll do the basic introductions and while my mom is distracted in the kitchen, go take care of business. I'll cover for you if you need me to." He realized he was only eighteen, and that he had a lot of growing up to do before he could be sure. He felt like he loved her. Sure, he was attracted to her, she was absolutely gorgeous. She was also very sweet, very compassionate, smart, witty, fun and funny. Even when he focused down and studied, her presence in his life never felt disruptive. He couldn't wait for his parents to meet her.

Adam put his hand on his girlfriend's back, leaned in, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Sweetheart, my parents want me to be happy. And you, you make me happy. You're not dragging me anywhere. You're not your family, you're not your family history. You are whoever you decide you are, and you are a wonderful person. You are smarter than you think you are. Maybe you're not the same kind of smart I am, but you certainly are smart." "You, you are my charming, beautiful southern belle. You charmed the pants off of me, literally, and you're going to charm my parents. And if you have problems or struggle with something, they'll understand. You're young, you're nervous. You might make a small blunder here or there, but they're going to see how you feel about me, how you make me feel, and the kind of person you really are. That's what they're going to see, and that's what's going to matter to them. What matters to them is my happiness. And if all that fails and they don't like you, screw 'em, I do, and they'll learn to love you."