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Freedom Oil Station, Broadway 3rd September 2018, 19:30 Robberies in Gas Station were something that, alas, happened in all cities but in a city like Freedom City it was more common for them to be done by more colourful costumed villains. But even in this city, it was an unusual case. Sitting on the counter was a figure around four foot tall, a literal cartoon character, dressed in a typical '20's flapper and apparently in black and white. "Come on Beth the fuzz'll be here soon!" her accent was a broad stereotypical Chicago drawl The other, a blonde compared to the others dark bob cut, was trying to stuff notes into a bag which was not easy when your only four foot tall!

The Bowles Household, Bayview, Freedom City 4th September 2018, around 10 am Tomorrow was the big day when classes started at Freedom City University and it probably wasn't the best day to try and move into Dorms, but the Summer had been pretty challenging for a variety of reasons. So it would be sensible to be up and ready to start moving all of the stuff down to North End in the heart of Freedom City. This wasn't the case with Melissa, however, who right now was face down, fully dressed snoring away. She'd meant to get an early night but had begun working on new chemical improvements, with her notes scattered around her sleeping form.

GM Sept 1st, Redhill It was a moderate sized southern town that bathed in sunshine. It could feel too hot mid summer, but the blaze had cooled a little and the friendly Texan town was now enjoying great weather. It was not a remarkable town, except for its annual Barbeque championships, where the finest chefs of the South congregated to explore new flavours, meats, and flames. Do not be mislead - this was world class cuisine despite its narrow remit. And it was not even as narrow as one might imagine. The cooking blended in from around the world. Indonesian, Nepalese, and Thia flavours and recipes permeated the event, and every possible variation and twist on the theme was not only allowed, but encouraged. And of course, Queenie was there. Being hounded by Mr Vernon Salt, a man of immense girth and considerable sweat, who fancied himself the second best BBQ chef in Texas. And wanted to be the first. "Please, give me a pointer!" "Just a little hint!" "Show me how to do it!" and other refrains bubbled from his bubbly lips. This was pointed out by Ms. Samantha Pepper, agent of W.E.S.T, to Gossamer. "Thanks for coming, Ma'am" she said to Gossamer. "I know it was all a bit of a rush and you didn't get fully briefed" she started. "Doctor North requested your presence and probably gave you half the picture..." she added, almost apolegetically. Sam Pepper was a tall blond woman with clear blue eyes and a functional business suit. Her pretty face had a badly broken nose and her voice had a nasal quality. Texan, through and through, but educated, too. "World Exoctic Science Taskforce. Brand new. Logistical Nightmare. No official authority here" she explained. "But we have had some unusual chemical readings here. Nothing hazardous. Odd organic chemicals. We haven't had a chance to analyse properly, but the potential is there for self-replicating molecules. Grey Goo Scenario..."

GM August 30th 16:15 WEST has a small office just the other side of the street (or thereabouts). It was here that Replica came to see Dr Norris North who sat, pressing his temples, anxiety perfusing his sweat. The message had just said URGENT! VERY URGENT! "We have a serious problem" he muttered, not pleased with said problem. "I think we have a rogue AI. Some idiot hacker has taken the brakes off a traffic control system. We were already getting concerned about the experimental code in the quantum computer ASTRO labs installed there. Now it looks like the traffic is going,...well...mental...." he explained, not happy with his explanation. "WEST is meant to head off these threats before the brown stuff hits the fan" he said, dissapointed. "Now, we are against the clock. And I am thin, to say the best, on resources. I hope you can handle computers. Please tell me you can handle computers! You said you could handle computers!"

Thursday, September 13th, 2018 The British Museum Mid-Afternoon GM It was a balmy, comfortable afternoon outside of the world-renowned British Museum, its halls lined with patrons and on-lookers as they perused and browsed the multitude of stunning exhibits. It was a busy day, to say the least, the halls bombarded equally by enthusiasts and children on field trips as they filled the corridors with noise and laughter. Inside the curator's office, the dinning drum of the noise outside was quieted somewhat, the shut doors providing a modest reprieve. But Cassie wasn't here for her role as a curator, despite the short-staffed situation going on at the museum currently. No, she'd been summoned, and though the curator was busy filling in throughout the British Museum and assisting its many fresh-faced and veteran visitors alike, they were polite enough to provide the office with which to await the visitor - one Doctor Thomas Ritterton - who'd come seeking her out specifically, though the details of this visit were vague at best. All that could be inferred for certain was that the gravitas of the visit was one, the curator assured her over the phone, worth investigating. The office itself was well-decorated and finely furnished while still bearing an air of professionalism. Fine wood and expert craftsmanship were everywhere within the modest office of the curator, placards and awards lined with strategic precision on the walls alongside famous faces. Even a few pieces of history had found a home behind thick, immovable glass display cases bolted to the floor, a testament to the current regime's success - with a little help - in acquiring strange and exotic bits of history. A knock came to the door at that moment, careful and melodic, before a well-dressed man entered. He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his mid-fifties and sporting a bald head sharply contrasted by a thick but well-maintained peppered beard and mustache. Though he was aged and the cane he carried clacked with each step, it also did so with purpose, with drive. Even weathered as such he was someone who oozed confidence, his well-tailored navy blue suit complimenting his frame perfectly. "Good afternoon to you," he greeted, his voice raspy and refined like aged brandy, replete with a thick and warm British accent. "My name is Doctor Thomas Ritterton. Might you be Miss Crow?" piped the older gentleman with surprising energy, eyeing the young archaeologist with the same sort of respectfulness one might a well-learned colleague.

GM Saturday, Sept 1st North of Freedom City At the Yummytummy Apiary The yummytummy apiary was, predictably, buzzing with activity. Busy little bees making honey. It was out of the city, but no so far. And of course, the Beekeeper was there indulging his obsession with bees as part of his alter ego. But so to where Fascimile and Ms. Penny Coin, the fae owner of the mysterious Puzzle Box. She was fiddling with the box in her hands, and one could only guess at how many dimensions it had. More than three, for certain. But unarguably less than four, as well. That was how the Puzzle Box was. "Look! its being driving me here! Like a compass! Buzzing all the time!" she complained to Fascimile. "Something needs to be solved!" She twirled one side and pressed a button, and with its usual spectacular explosion of nothingness.... A green giant appeared. Over ten feet tall, with a hammer in his hand, angry red hair, and a most grumpy expression. "WHERES MY KEY!" he boomed at Fascimile and Pixie, although the Beekeeper (at the moment, Baxter Bowles) was nearby studying this or that feature of this or that wasp - and he certainly heard!

GM September 1st, 2018, 4.28PM A.S.T.R.O. Labs The day was winding down, the light was starting to wane, and the people working at one of the premier technological application centers on Earth were starting to think fondly of home. By now the horrors of the Terminus Invasion had already begun to fade from all but the hardest-hit. But the fact remained: while there was a sense that the Terminus might not make such a move again, there were other dangers in the omniverse. So far the day had gone famously. The dimensional conduit prototype, code-named DR(pronounced, naturally, 'door') was in full working order, the odd-looking man from AEGIS hadn't gotten in the way while 'checking for mental leaks', and the representative for the prestigious Danger Foundation had been nothing but helpful with the finer details of avoiding dangerous interaction with the forces she unaccountably referred to as 'magic'. The support staff had been on top of their game today, especially thanks to a newcomer with an ease around the strange materials they worked with that confounded even veterans of the Labs. Regardless, there was only a little clearing up to do and everyone would be off the clock. So it was with a certain regret that one of the walls exploded inward from a shower of dark energy, followed by two odd-looking men in Atom Family Adventure-like uniforms of black, silver and purple with armbands that radiated power. "Hello!" the finned one said merrily "Please leave this to us, Terresi!" "I'm Electrum Eagle. No prey escapes me." The winged one snarled, knocking the room off its feet with a wave of his gauntleted hand, emitting a punishing shockwave that made the nerves scream. "And I'm Platinum Porpoise! Take a seat!" A snap of his webbed fingers and a boyish smile heralded a great seething wave of bluish-purple energy that started flashing across the room, pinning everyone in its path with coils of otherworldly darkness! However, even as they headed for the great arch of the DR, they were unaware that someone had followed them ever since they first materialized in Freedom City...

Fall 2018 The invasion was over, Freedom City was rebuilding and moving on with its life - even if most people had thought that life was going to come to an end. High Steaks had taken some minor structural damage during the fracas, not enough to shut the place down, but enough that keeping a regular movement of engineers, construction workers, and their equipment away from the tourists was just one of the many bits of sleight of hand that made life at the High Steaks interesting. At least until today. "Peter broke through with his pickax," commented Miranda, the tall, rangy Italian-American woman wearing the same orange hardhat and safety gear as the rest of her men. "If he hadn't had his line on him, he'd have fallen in-" She and Diamondlight were standing together at the edge of the substantial sinkhole that had once been the bottom of his lowest underground parking garage, her headlamp only partially illuminating the substantial cavern that the collapse had uncovered. Down below, they could make out other stonework that looked manmade - and definitely something more glittering than stone. Going down there would be quite a gamble. "You want me to call the Freedom League, boss?" - It took Baxter some time to realize that the music was coming from the armor, still tucked away where he'd put it. He recognized the sound; the old Nokia that his uncle had wired into the suit a lifetime ago still worked and the suit probably still had enough power to make it work. But why would anyone be calling it? It had _not_ been part of the numbers he'd given out - but then, he hadn't always been the one in the suit...

Fall 2018 The morning after Things were...tense in the steel mill, or maybe it was Anna's imagination. She certainly felt tense - which wasn't the usual way she felt the morning after. She was in the Christmas fuzzy pajamas that she'd brought with her, a gift from her grandkids at the end of the last year. They were full-length and covered her from neck to ankle, but she'd already shown Nicola how quickly she could be out of them if so inclined. She curled her hands around her morning tea and commented quietly, "So...I suppose yer wonderin' who Bryant is." Bryant's name had come up the night before - in a context when if she'd been saying anyone's name, it really should have been Nicola's. "

August 14th Delhi...World Oceanographic Conference Delhi was hot and humid. And this was summer. Combined with the pollution and dust, it was almost unbearable - and quite a jolt to the conference members who were discussing environmental aspects to oceanography. It was sunset now, and the blazing sun had at least receded somewhat. The Hotel "Golden Sky" was hosting the conference and even now the air conditionoing systems were working full blast. Mr. Murk had left the Club Immortus and assumed the form of an elderly Indian scholar, white hair, white moustache, elegant suit. Even cloaked in the Murk, his appearance changed, he was sweating. He had missed most of the talks this day, including some drama when the remarkable Victor Finn collapsed halfway through his guest talk on shark ecology. The poor fellow was in hospital recovering from dehydration. Now, it was tea, a most wonderful assortment of curries and spiced foods, and light drinks. Mr Murk could not resist greed when it came to Indian food. His belly was full and his tongue quite happy. He rounded it off with some Cobra beer, although he had no intention of intoxication tonight. His real interest this evening was the young woman called Tsunami. Through process of divination and his vast network of contacts and information, he had come to know her as an immortal...

GM It had been quite an adventure and had ended with Penny Coin (also known as the Puzzle Pixie) finding a peice for her puzzle box. This peice being an enchanted bone. When inserted into the mysterious box of infinite puzzles... Well, lots of strange stuff with dimensions and magic and this and that happened. In a blaze of light. And then... Well, Facsimile woke up in a lovely silk bed with a start. His dreams had been most peculiar and best left for the man himself to describe. But peculiar they had been. As lovely as the silk bed was, the most peculiar thing is that he woke up in a graveyard. The air was cool and dry, and the smell of rain and earth lingered faintly. Up above was a moon. A very big moon, twice the size of anything he had ever seen. To his left, he heard loud snoring. Penny Coin was asleep, snoring loudly, clutching her pillow and mumbling about the Elf King and whistling pipes.

GM Mt. Olympus, home of the gods, "So..." Herakles was many things. A giant of a man, girded about with a strength that had challenged the world itself to contain, conqueror of innumerable impossible tasks(innumerable only to him, admittedly, whose education hadn't got very far in mathematics before his accidental murder of his mentor Chiron the wise), faithful guardian of Olympus, even an accomplished landscaper. But he wasn't good with making complex judgements on the fly. He rubbed his stubbled jaw with a hand easily big enough to contain both Scions' heads with room to spare, frowning in concentration. "She," he pointed a finger big as a sausage at the other Scion, "is not a god, but you want her to become one? And then go back to her world? After she's become divine and then needs mortal say-so to go back?" "Yeah!" The Scion from the other Earth looked indignantly at Moira "You never said anything about this 'Pact', when the Erebus-!" She blinked at the unfamiliar word "What? Why can't I say Erebus?" "Beats me," Herakles shrugged, leaning against the mighty gates leading into the celestial domain, "she's under Apollo's eye, I'd have figured he'd say something before you two got here." A mortal would have been dwarfed by the colorful portal and its gaily-painted doors. Next to the older demi-god it looked almost awkwardly small.

Seeing Double Club, Lincoln, Freedom City 20:30 August 1st 2018 Despite everything Freedom City endured! But even though the city itself had more or less returned to normally many people were still affected by the events of the last month and many were raising money to help those inflicted. One such place was Seeing Double which was nothing special, a warehouse converted into a club for at least a few nights aiming to donate it's earning to such charities. The unique thing about the staff was that everyone running the place, from the door to the bar, was exactly the same person Merge Trois.

GM July 31st, Late Evening It was a hot, languid night, with hot, languid tempers lolling this way and that on the streets of Freedom City. The Docks were cooler, thank the Gods, with the sea air gently taking the dge of the heat. 'Twas here that the Scarab spied. Mind reading was a handy talent for a crime fighter. From street thugs to shady dealers, it got her the inside scoop on todays deal. A meeting. Someone from the underground villanous organisation, the Labyrinth ,was meeting an arms salesman. The nervous salesman had arrived by boat under cover of night. He was a small, twitchy man, with a North African look to him, and a thick beard. He might well appear to the ignorant or malicious, a terrorist from first glance. A reason indeed for him to be twitchy. He was waiting, twitching away, when a black sedan drove up beside him, and three much larger men got out. "What have you got?" "I...I...can't bring it here" said the North African man. "...I can't get it into the states. It's...unstable, you see? Risky...very risky...." The large men seemed distinctly unimpressed. "It's real, I tell you...look!" said the North African man, showing them a video clip on his phone. This made the large men much more impressed after they saw the clip...

For the past few days Moira had received cryptic messages in coded in ancient Greek. Mutually intelligibility aside, it was like reading ancient Greek. Smart people stuff. People that could read English couldn't understand all of it. That kind of stuff. She turned to her connections on Olympus and even they had a head scratch. It was machine code. If they were on good terms with Hephaestus, they'd have it solved. But the whole deal with him and them - Aphrodite and Ares, especially - was well noted. There was a hand full of smart people who could help. This was Freedom City. Turn the corner and you could find, like, fifteen geniuses. Still, you needed connections. Not like you could just... Well, it was worth a shot? Mandjet Building, 1 August 2018, Midday. Kamala Kanufasa was a technical genius. Her business was machine code. So Moira looked to her. Showing up after lunch. Walking in the front door and asking the receptionist to speak to Ms Kanufasa.

GM Lots of things happen in a city of heroes and villains. About a month ago the Terminus invaded and left a stamp on the landscape in the form of mutated citizens. Terra, Razor, Silk, and Crush were some of the 'lucky' ones. Friends through the same neighborhood, they looked after each other. These powers made it easier to do. Razor got a voice that could melt minds. Terra was lucky all the time, though she could never hit the numbers. Silk and Crush, the twins, got fire and ice powers, respectively. Things were looking up for Plantation Circle. Except for when their plans started going off. The lure of cheap thrills hit them all too easy. Terra was their lynchpin in getting away scot free. If they got caught theyd slip through the cracks and be out on a technicality. Cops in The Fens were starting to call it the Plantation Circle Clause. So much so when they were called to the scene, they almost gave up. A police call to Cleary's Jewelers? Thats where they were today. The precinct preferenced it with PCC. Plantation Circle Clause.

It had all been going so well, he'd been asked to look into the activities of some radicalist group of eco-warriors who fancied themselves some kind of super heroes after they'd greviously injured an on duty guard at some protest. He'd joined a few forums and sweet talked a few people in coffee shops and ultimately been invited to attend a meeting about a future plan, some talk of hiring mercenaries and making a more major move. It was too good to be true and it turned out it was! He'd entered into a warehouse in civilian attire to a crowd of unfriendly faces. His brothers position in PanStar had lead them to do a little snooping of their own and the Press surrounding his hiring had made it all too easy to connect the dots it would seem!

Dr. Estelle de Havilland's Loft. July 21st, 2018. 10:30 am So strange to be back after all these years; the maid service expertly maintained the property, so the dust motes hanging in the air were entirely of her own invention, yet Estelle saw them nonetheless. Seven years away teaching and researching abroad in Berlin, Lisbon and Tokyo had done much to scour away the distressing memories of the Gorgon's first visit to Earth, but still her heart never left this sacred space, this feeling of belonging, of home. Her hair unfurled like a silk parachute, several fine tendrils depositing her bags upstairs in the sleeping loft, while countless others stretched out to gently stroke the walls, ceiling and furnishings with the caress of a long-lost love. A strong solid pair reached up and wrapped themselves around the arms of the combination metal sculpture/'jungle gym' that hung over the loft, and effortlessly drew her upward. Estelle closed her eyes and sighed as she stripped off her dusty traveling clothes while she floated in midair, and then carried herself into the master bathroom for a long, hot and entirely wasteful shower, an indulgence, true, but one that she earned after being trapped in an international flight for nine hours, her living hair forced into a confining French braid for far too long. Depositing herself onto the sectional sofa, wrapped in her favorite fluffy bathrobe with her damp hair majestically draped over the leather upholstery, Estelle finally allowed herself a long contented sigh. "Home..."

August 2018 The invasion was over - and Freedom City was rebuilding. With her husband occupied with the rebuilding process, Nina al-Darsah Lucas was taking a rare opportunity to get out of the house with her son and walk the streets of Freedom City. Close to a year old now, Amir Richard Lucas was dressed in a striped blue and white onesie that matched his mother's headscarf - which he seemed to recognize from his eagerness to rid her of that garment. "Amir!" she taunted him in playful Arabic as they walked fearlessly along the short pleasure boat dock extending out into the river. They were close by the Pramas Bridge, but for the moment Nina's eyes were all on her baby. "That is Mother's! Do not take from your mother!" She caught the baby's hand and he laughed, and she laughed too. He'd risen early that morning, but so had she, heading out together through the city with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the money in her pocket. "Come on, it's swimming time," she told him as she picked her big boy up in her arms and stepped off the dock; the two of them falling together into the river and not coming up. From his position on the pedestrian pathway on the bridge, Tempest had seen the mother and baby fall into the water without a sound - but it didn't look like anyone else had. This early in the morning, with most of Freedom's heroes and first responders still doing cleanup, if he didn't take action, no one else would.

Around Sunset, Bedlam City Very few who live in a blighted urban landscape like Bedlam wouldn't suspect that it had much in the way of magic. The founders of the city had made sure that several convergences of ley lines meant the city was brimming with the stuff. Like the city, the magic was icky and blighted, though many still argued which caused the other. Away from the prying eyes of many a superteams and powerful mystics, Bedlam made a perfect place for those who practiced the less savory styles of magic to meet up and exchange, or more often sell, rituals and artifacts that were unpleasant if not outright evil...

Downtown Freedom City 10 am, 3rd July 2018 Someone had dug up an empty lot in Downtown Freedom, not in itself a strange occurrence and most paid it no heed. After all, eventually Doctor Metropolis would fix the damage and everything would be as it was before. But for some reason they hadn't so eventually the FCPD reluctantly investigated, in the full glare of the local media as things were fairly quiet today. Down in the hole, they found an old abandoned base of some sort of technological hero or villain, with technology that suggested that it hadn't been touched since the 1950's. But why had the base been uncovered now?

Riverside Docks, Freedom City 10:00 pm, 3rd July 2018 For heroes it was a place that seemed to attract trouble, ships seemed to attract trouble with people trying to bring various things into and out of Freedom City. And with a ship having just pulled into port from Socotra, a place known for its very lax registration laws, plus the fact that its ruler was a bonafide supervillain, was almost to easy a place to look for potential trouble. So the Spirit of the Isle was just sitting there, it's crew off spending there wages it some of the nearby dives but the cargo not yet unloaded. if something illegal was going to go down then it would happen tonight.

Lakeside, Emerald City 9:10 pm, 4th July 2018 The air glowed red towards Mount Stanley but not the glorious sunset that was happening over the sparkling Pacific rather Lakeside was burning. At the edge of the area, a rather eccentric mansion was blazing merrily, with everyone out it would be no danger to anyone rather a loss of property if not for the chance of the Elysian forest also catching. Already at another fire in the area, a strange coincidence in itself, someone would be able to respond soon enough, but it could be too late for the more valuable forest that surrounded the area.

The sun settled slowly beneath the horizon, though the spires of Freedom City had already blocked its light from reaching the miserable Fens for hours before. The Fens were not normally an upbeat part of Freedom City, and many of the city's upstanding residents would really have rather ignored the Fens' existence. This evening, however, something had changed - there was a low buzz of tension in the air, an excitement edged with true terror that not even the Fens' residents could really believe was there. "-you heard about the new club?" "You mean the-" "-hear they give out-" "That's crazy, no one would-" "- my brother's best friend can shoot fire out of his -" Rumors filled the streets of a new means of getting what the people of the Fens deserved (whatever that was). A club - or maybe a bar, no one was really quite sure - that offered honest-to-god superpowers in the forms of drinkable beverages. Dozens of rumors filtered throughout the Fens, and even beyond, into Freedom City's better-off neighborhoods. Something was happening in the Fens, and it could spell chaos for the Fens (or the rest of the city) if it went untouched!

Pier 6 was a nightclub nestled among the warehouses of Bedlam's docks, which despite its location maintained a modest reputation of a safe space where people from all walks of life could mix and mingle, engage in discreet business, or simply drink and dance the worries of the city away. The industrial aesthetic of brick walls and exposed steel combined with leather seating and wood surfaces gave the club a contrasting, if comforting interior. But none of that mattered at the moment, for it was closing time. The patrons of Pier 6 were disgorging into the street and Chance had settled back behind his own bar with a drink, toasting another relatively quiet night.