Search the Community

GM June 26th Morning ASTRO Labs A certain Ms. Cynthia Wright was approached by a certain Mr. Archibald Tweed, known as "Archie" to his friends, colleauges, and pretty much every body who did not want to vex him by calling him Archibald. Mr. Tweed was an chemical engineer, in his late fourties, and most splendid at his Job. A PhD for Oxford, a bright mind, thick glasses and a handsome jaw that would make him an attractive man to the ladies, where it not for the fact he seemed to have little or no interest in activities of the romantic kind, directed at any gender. Perhaps it was glass that attracted him, for he spent all his days studying and experimenting on it. If glass was your need, your need was Tweed. Archie set down a cup of fragrant strong coffee, full of milk and marshmallows and all sorts of deliciousness (one would hope it did not include glass, but one never could tell with Archie) by the desk of Ms. Wright. "Hrmph" he coughed, nervously. "Could you help with ah...ah rather difficult matter? Security breach or cyber crime, or something like that..." he mumbled vaguely.

Summer 2018 Hardwick Park From her rooftop perch, Wadjet watched the girls down below through binoculars, occasionally stopping to make notes in the notebook she'd started carrying. Los únicos que quedan son los que no fueron con Mouse, ¡estúpido! ¿Crees que a la Mara le importa una mierda que no corras? She was writing down names and faces now, the names of girls she'd grown up with, wondering when they were going to find themselves in the goddamned graveyard. Once she was sure she had all of them, she and Anna were going to pay them a little visit and get them to get the Hell out of town. This group of four, the oldest of which couldn't be more than sixteen, was eating pupusas and obviously working themselves up to steal the silver Porsche 911 that some dumbass whiteboy had left parked here in a corner of the neighborhood near Wolverton, where the cops usually didn't bother patrolling. She didn't really care about what property crime they were about to commit, but if she could catch them in the act, it might be a weapon to use to get them the hell out of this neighborhood - this neighborhood where dreams went to die.

The Parkhurst July 12, 2018 The Parkhurst had been a hotel, at one point. Between being a family home and being a haunted wreck, and long before it was a dwelling place for some of Freedom's occult community. It made perfect sense that it would serve as a gathering place for travelers tonight. Outside, in the distance, Nick Cimitiere watched the great fires lick up from Liberty Park. He had done what he could, where he could. But after the first day, he knew there was a chance this would not end as anyone hoped. He remembered the stories of the first Invasion, remembered being dragged out of school as grim angels with steel wings flew through the air and the scent of oblivion spread through the city. Now, death walked through the city again, hungry and rabid, with a taste for destruction that would make Ammut herself cringe. If there was a time for a miracle - or an infernal bargain - it would be tonight. And he could only hope for the former, but prepare for the latter. Nick stubbed out his cigarette and returned to the manor, ready to make preparations for his guests. Corporeal and otherwise.

July 13th, 6ish PM, Riverside. The end of the world’s arrival looked to be on a Friday, Eastern Standard Time. This was in stark contrast to the expectation from many office workers, and comic strip cats, that it would be on a Monday. Though it was in part towing the line of the firm the belief of those who lived in Northeast United States that the world revolved around them. It was only fitting, then, that the apocalypse would start in one of the most important cities there. Self-fulfilling prophecies being what they are. In a parallel with other historical events, this particular phase was set off with the delivery of a message: “Taarvon is here, he is fighting Shivan Steelgrave. At the peninsula of Loneliness” This was news, good or bad it was hard to suss out, or know that what the impact had. But it came from the lips of a Furion, young as they went, battered, bruised, and bloodied. Though, he had succeeded in getting to the some of the Earth heroes, and relaying the information, before he collapsed in a heap. There wasn't many there, but it was a number that wasn't zero, and the three that he had found were some of the luminaries in the dark times that were crashing around them, the city, and humanity itself. But it wasn't just a swarm of Omegadrones, of course. Though the relief on the young Furion's face spoke volumes that they were the ones he had been after. Especially the recognition in his eyes on seeing Gaian Knight, before the rush of words came out before he dropped down. A look to the Eastern horizon showed the sky alight with flames against the dwindling day.

1959 Conway & 25th, Lincoln, Freedom City 7 am 18th June 2018 It didn't matter how quick you were breakfast was still a flurry of activity, cat and child to feed and get and superspeed couldn't make water boil any quicker or toast to brown perfectly. And of cause when Dancia was meant to have her new Intern and superhero colleague of several adventures, she was of cause running late. She was quite proud that over the last couple of years that she'd earned enough cache at the Ledger that she was able to convince them to let her take on an Intern, even if it meant she'd have to do all the related work. not that she minded, in fact, she was looking forward to the challenge. Even with all her enhanced senses she was distracted and didn't notice her new Intern imminent arrival, some in the house had and just before they arrive at the door it was opened. "Hi there I'm Katie Melitta Devons-Leeds and I'm eight years old!" With a smile, the young girl offered out a hand. She looked very much Dancia, except for a head of extremely blonde hair.

GM For one night only....Broken Wishbone... Headed by the presumably lunatic singer Marcus Skulll (yes, three "l"s...for art), Broken Wishbone were an upcoming metal band with a heavy, heavy clean beat. Staccato riffs and tight drumming gave them a crisp, bullet like vibe. A heavy a talented bass line gave them an unusually powerful melody. TIme signature slips gave them a unique twist. And Marcus Skull had a way with words that spun frustration and optimisim together into a rather nice soup. And they were playing at some rather dingy club called the Neat Beat. It wasn't a great name, but it had a certain anarchic vibe in contrast to its name. Alcohol free, drugs free, it was both clean but rebellious. It was sold out, and had sold out quickly, but Mr. Alexander LLoyd had got a ticket....

July 13, 2018 Midnight Manor Even now, Midnight Manor was one of the safest places in Freedom City. "Sea Devil and Singularity have made contact with Foreshadow. The plan is in motion." Redbird had been more subdued than usual lately - hadn't they all? Even with the evacuations the dead, wounded, and missing in Freedom City were four, maybe five figures; not to mention the heroes, no, the friends they'd lost. "Good." Through his radio link to the Manor, Harrier spoke with the slow, deliberate intonations of a man whose breathing came with difficulty. "Are you prepared?" He'd done his best to help them. They had a map of their destination, a rough sketch of its likely defenses, and more besides - Steve had stayed up all night, multiple nights, dictating to Redbird when Wander and Midnight had been deployed to the action. There was very little else he could do. While the others talked, Mark studied the screens showing the continued carnage of the fight in Freedom City - maybe it was all confined to an isolated few areas this time, maybe this was just touches of Hell on Earth instead of the real thing. He closed his eyes and thought of Nina and Richie, safely away from all this - unless all this spilled out over everything, and took them just like it had taken his friends in the DuTemps Building. When we get back here - I need to fix things.

July 11, 2018 4:17 PM The ambulance didn't bother with its sirens as it rode deeper into the West End. It wasn't as though the laws of the road were being enforced just then and drawing attention would have only made it a better target. The missing passenger side door and twisted remnants of a front bumper testified that the blocky vehicle - and its operators - were lucky to still be in reasonably working order. The way it screeched around two abandoned cars wrapped around each other in the middle of an intersection, lifting up onto two wheels briefly, said that those close calls hadn't made them any more timid. It wasn't a hospital where it came to a stop but the Summerhill Street Farmer's Market of all places. Stands normally stocked with ears of corn and handmade candles had been repurposed into temporary shelters and soup lines, tarps and truck beds and trash bins call called into whatever use was most immediately needed in the chaos of the previous day. People forced to flee their homes or unable to return to them, people too injured or old or simply unwilling to attempt to flee with city entirely had gathered in the convenient open space, stocked with food and running water. The rear doors of the ambulance opened and a muscular man with sleeve tattoos and a blood caked concert tee that barely fit vaulted out. "I got a broken leg and a couple kids that got separated from their folks!" Hernandez called to the able bodies already jogging over to meet him. "Somebody grab me something to use for a splint, I'm using shitty ass rebar over here!"

Dakana Parliament N'Gome ya Watu, Dakana 09:00 EAT (0:00 EDT) Thursday 12th July 2018 It was rare that all of the Clan representatives, both major and minor were all gathered in the main room of the parliament. Much more rare was that no one was arguing or trying to outdo the others, instead, they spoke in nervous hush tones. And whilst their nation had yet to be involved none of them, even the most isolationist of them, would dare suggest they do nothing, for an invasion from the Terminus was a threat to the entire world. After a few moments one of the nations chief scientists, despite her young age, K'Sema moved to the center of the gathered representatives and with a swipe bought up a giant hologram of the globe. As King M'Balla raised a hand to silence everyone else she began to speak. "As expected were have detected a vast amount of Terminus energies around Freedom City, but that's not the only place we discovered them. We've passed the information onto the Freedom League but we have a problem closer to home." With a sweep of her hand, the map focused on Dakana itself, with one region in the south-west being illuminates, the Singing Hills. Due to a fluke of geology, the Daka crystals found below the hills had formed in perfectly linked crystal strata. This allowed to natural collect and store energy in their structure which caused them to give out a low-level hum that was disconcerting to both humans and animals alike. It also tended to build up and release energy at random making it difficult to operate electronics in the area. All this made the area more or less uninhabitable, even mostly ignored by those that kept Dakana's borders secure. "We picked up an anomaly on the regions seismographs back on the 10th but paid it no heed, until we got news from America about the invasion, so we used a technology we'd been developing to use the natural frequencies of the area like a sonar and we've formed an image." The hologram changed to that of some sort of massive structure though apparently much of the image was made up of best guess and still it looked menacing in its structure. "Our best guess is that they're using the crystals to generate powers four there other structure on the planet. We're can't even guess at how it operates but it should be easy to shut it down safely." "Why can't we just bombard the place before they become more of threat? If they send people out to capture the sacred mountain or even the Beast itself?" ask one of the representatives "The feedback from that or any large-scale assault could cause a catastrophic feedback loop in the crystal below destroying them and most of the hill. The environmental damage would be catastrophic with that along, not to mention possible harm from terminus infused materials." having said her piece K'Sema stepped back to allow the parliament to discuss a solution to the problem. For the next hour, the parliament debated how to deal with this discovery, whilst still performing their ancient duty to guard the caged beast, with every one of them getting a chance to speak their piece. Finally, it was decided that the Dakana army would prepare itself to defend the sacred mountain, whilst a small band of heroes would go and hopefully destroy the structure. Naturally, the two defenders of Dakana would go on this dangerous mission as well as some assistance from experts from outside the country that could assist them in their own way.

July 11, 2018 7:26 AM With venerable trees reaching out to provide shade over sidewalks and expensive landscaping framing driveways Kingston had been one of the greener neighbourhoods of the city proper. Now all of that was simply more tinder for the fires indiscriminately gutting once proud estates and nouveau riche concept homes. Even as the sun rose of the second day of the Annihilist occupation its light was choked off by plumes of smoke, leaving the streets cast in flickering reds and oranges. That ominous light would have still been preferable to the deep crimson pocked with dark spots rising from the crumbling remains of one of the larger homes. With violent thumping impacts a Terminus machine the size of a city bus turned on its end dug deep into the foundation while gangly metal arms long enough to reach across the street's cracked pavements ripped free chunks of brick and metal and glass and stone to construct something unseen. The unearthly energy lashed out in unpredictable directions like tap water diffused over the back of a spoon, causing small explosions anywhere it stuck something solid. Meanwhile Omegadrones with wickedly barbed pikes were gathering another sort of raw materials: dozens of people, beaten and bloody, being marched single file toward the terrible pit.

Stark Hill July 12, 2018 The world was on fire. But it took a long time for the ashes to reach some places. While the sky bled crimson and the towers of the capes burned off on the East Coast, Bedlam was in a state of gridlock. There was doomsaying, but only at a somewhat greater pitch at any other day. The Mayor had already talked about getting the National Guard ready to deploy, but word was the Governor was holding off until there was tangible evidence that the threat had gotten beyond Lake Erie - and even then, odds were he would be much more interested in anywhere that wasn't Bedlam. The Special Assault Squad was in the streets in force, but they seemed to be taking their exercise dealing with desperate and fervid individuals hoping to take advantage of an all-you-can-grab, end-of-the-world sale. And so, the morning of July 12 dawned in Stark Hill as it had any other day. With the blood being hosed into the gutters, with the rise of an oppressive heat fed by the winds off of Lake Michigan, with Obedieh Brick on the 12th hour of "BREAKING NEWS," screaming about the need to grab the biggest gun one could and use it as the ultimate deterrent against the death gods from outer space. The haze and the fury was growing, but it was the same haze and fury as might be expected as Bedlam approached the dog days of summer. That is, until the brownstone on 3rd Street was cut in half. Those who were nearby would say it started as a "flash of black light," a half-second glimmer of palpable darkness. Curiosity turned to panic as the sound of crumbling brick and creaking steel filled the air, as gravity took hold on the building and rent it like a hunk of bread, causing it to list and tilt towards the buildings at either side. And from within, there was still that glimpse of brilliant darkness...

July 12th, Third Day of the Terminus Invasion 2248 Hours Briefing Room A1, Subbasement Level 1, Claremont Academy In the hours and days following the Invasion, only few safe areas remained for the citizens of Freedom. One of them was Claremont Academy, as it turns out the Summers had planned for the eventual inevitability, the Academy was prepared for an attack. Or at least, that had been the expectation. As it turned out, the systems themselves could not hold off the hordes of bodies being thrown at them, and what heroes had made it to the Academy spent their time in shifts, assisting with the defence to the best of their ability. The Subbasement was, for the time, fully secured, and the dorms were filled up with people receiving first aid and doing their best to recover before heading out into the fight once more. Walking through the hallways, one had to avoid stumbling over weapons, equipment and clothing, hastily thrown away, with nobody having the energy to try and keep things organized. Keeping up the fight was more important. Which was why a small crowd of heroes had been gathered in the briefing room, for a top-priority assignment. The group was being briefed by headmistress of Claremont, Callie Summers herself. It was a simple briefing, no fancy graphics, no extended speeches, just right down to business. “As you may have noticed yourself, the Annihilists have changed their method of attack. They’ve incapacitated multiple people and dragged them off, something that we’ve been trying to keep under wraps as good as possible in order to preserve some degree of morale. “ “Now, I’m not telling you this for nothing. Our scouts have managed to track down the location these people have been brought to, the College. We need to get them out, and with every minute that passes, they are in more danger. As are we. I need you to get in and extract them. We have no idea how many people are being held there, or what exactly is being done to them. “ “This will be dangerous. You will probably see things I wouldn’t want anybody to see. You will face what we can only assume is a massive force of enemies. We won’t be able to keep up any radio contact, you will be on your own. But don’t ever forget this, all of these people rely on you. This is your chance to save potentially dozens of lives, while also dealing a major blow to our enemies. “ “Now, any final questions? The faster we’re done with this, the more people you can save.”

GM Tuesday, July 11th, 2018 The North End, Freedom City 3:44 PM Nothing. Even after several hours straight of observing, theorizing, and experimenting Dr. Eliot Westermen couldn’t figure out the Nexus Problem. He knew he had everything he needed to figure it out. ASTRO Labs was one of the greatest scientific facilities on the planet. They had reliable information on the paraphysics of the Cosmic Coil, access to salvaged Terminus tech and even an intact Omegadrone corpse for study. This should be easy. He should be able to see where everything connected. How this new portal system worked and how it could be deactivated. Westerman put his forehead against his chalkboard board and signed. “But you can’t, West. They’re right. This is beyond you. Beyond any of us.” It took him a minute to really grapple with that. To finally put his pride aside and admit the truth. “Chakwas couldn’t do. Oladeyle couldn’t do it. And you can’t either. They were right, we need outside help. A fresh pair of eyes to look at this nonsense.” Westerman had sworn that it wasn’t necessary. That the heroes needed to be out there helping people instead of slumming it with the eggheads. That if he had just a few more hours he could crack the Nexus Problem and stop the invasion. No one believed him. Senior expert on Terminus Tech and Paraphysics be damned. They put out the call for help about a couple of hours. Any heroes with an advanced knowledge of “exotic” technologies were asked to come to ASTRO Labs and help figure out how to dismantle the portal network that allowed the invaders to send wave after wave of monsters to wreak havoc on Freedom City. Westerman didn’t have to look at his watch to tell that the heroes would be in the “War Room,” as the scientists had started to call their primary laboratory working on the Nexus Problem, in a few minutes. Perks of being a super-genius he guessed, you get a great internal clock. That put a smile on his face. Westerman couldn’t remember the last time he smiled since the invasion began. Moving away from the chalkboard, he took a seat in one of the rolling chairs scattered across the lab and tried to relax. The lab was a mess. On all four sides of it there was notes, files, tech, empty coffee cups and lab gear scattered everywhere. Not to mention one scary looking Omegadrone on a medical table. Westerman didn’t look much better. Lack of sleep does that. The heroes would be here soon and Westerman knew he had to be at his best to get them up to speed on what little he and the others had figured out and answer any questions they may have.

July 10. 7 PM. Freedom City. Southside. The city was a battleground. Omegadrones in the sky. Heroes everywhere. Broken glass and shattered buildings. Bodies in the streets. Doom had come to Freedom. Naturally, the civilians needed to get out of town. Equally naturally, there was zero chance they’d make it without a heroic escort. The convoy was big. Several buses and a multitude of private vehicles. Obviously, it wasn’t the only convoy, with Freedom being a city of literally millions. Heroes were spread desperately thin by the invasion of the Terminus, leaving only Prism and Mannequin to protect this particular convoy. Things had been relatively quiet. They had been noticed by Omegadrones, but other heroes had taken them on allowing the convoy to get across the river. It kept happening, too. But for now, everything was quiet as the vehicles rumbled down into the Southside to the trainyard. Planes were a no go, as Omegadrones could blast them out of the sky with little effort. And the highway had been jammed since 2. So, trains. Just had to get to the depot.

Sloane Manor North Bay, Freedom City New Jersey Thursday, July 12th, 2018 4:02 PM Erick Sloane's beachfront villa in North Bay was far from untouched. The prior day's assault on Kingston left much of the surrounding upper-class neighborhoods in a state of disarray. And North Bay was no exception. Especially after an entirely new force from the Terminus emerged to fight against both the Resistance Force and the invading force. Ironically, it seemed as if for the first time in the history of Freedom City someone could make the claim that the Fens was the safest neighborhood to live in. Of course, most residents didn't have a sprawling underground headquarters in their villas. A team of heroes had been risking their lives gathering and spreading information and equipment covertly to the Resistance in the city. The latest transmission pinpointed where one of the power sources for the device generating portals into the city was. Unfortunately, said generator was currently guarded by what had to be one of the largest armies of the Terminus sighted thus far. To make matters worse it was positioned deep inside the Raymond Nuclear Power Plant. Which had seen extensive renovations by Daedalus of the Freedom League to convert the plant into a virtual fortress. In short, any attempts to destroy the generator would be a suicide mission. Foreshadow sent a recruitment transmission through his headquarter's computer with the hope that anyone nearby would answer the call. When Sea Devil, Singularity, and Cobalt Templar arrived they found piles of Omegadrone armors strewn throughout the sprawling manor. The inside of the home appearing as if an explosive had been set off with the stench of entropic energies wafting through the air. Having to step over the burnt and battered Omegadrones they would find an open bookshelf that at one point covered the staircase that led down into Foreshadow's Forebode. The computer's holographic display had a Power Pike sticking through it slightly covering the top leftmost point on the 3d layout of the Raymond Nuclear Plant. A hooded man stood in the center of the room his back turned to the staircase, a dark blue cape flowing in tatters.

The DuTemps Building July 10th, 2018 10:59 AM Before the sky bled, Temperance was taken in by the city below. Things were tranquil, and she wasn't quite sure where they'd go next. She and Sharl were still happy in their relationship. They weren't necessarily making any moves towards any particular destinations, but they were okay with standing in the middle ground. She had just graduated from college, and while she was putting herself out on the job market, she was still experiencing that difficulty of having a good - but not incredible - GPA and some internship experience. Maybe I'll put my "night work" on the resume and see how many heads explode. There was peace. There was quiet. There was a city below, remembering what was lost and celebrating the victory that had been gained through great sacrifice. She stood on the lip of a castle in the sky, wondering how her life had gotten to this point, and where it might go next. Then the screaming began. In a hundred different voices, from boiling asphalt to sparking power lines. Her phone went off in her hand. A message from her father. THE CITY IS GOING MAD. RUN. Before she could even more, a great red rent was torn in the sky, and a swarm of steel locusts descended. She ran to the lip of the building, struck dumb for half a second, before she got a good look... No. Oh, gods, no. She ran back into the building, reaching for her phone to send out a mass blast to the group. UNDER ATTACK. TERMINUS.

GM And so, on a hot friday afternoon... The Hanover institute was running a "Talent of the future" meeting, where whizz kids of the days to come could show off their wares and network. And possibly get snapped up by talent spotters. As so often the case, the organiser of this event, a Doctor Gilbert Ratchet, was more of a scientist than an organiser, and the event had been cobbled together at the last minute in a ramshackle way and was thus much more poorly attended than would have been desired. Still, it was a jolly old affair with fizzy pop and electric shocks for everybody. Doctor Ratchet was a white haired vigorous man with the thickest pair of glasses you could see who was full of enthusiasm, stuffed with smarts, and devoid of understanding. He was not navigating this event well, socially, but he was all smiles and keen. "Welcome, welcome!" he said to Mr. Edwards, who had somehow (through the chaos) got an invite. "Free fizzy pop inside, and some cherry bomb lollipops, I believe. And you can set up on stall number 8c. Do you have your inventions with you?". He was most interested, and completely untaken aback by Mr. Edwards enormous physique. It was, as far as he was concerned, irrelevant. Ones skull (or more precisely the contents within) where all the counted.

Bedlam City 1st June 2018, 06:30 am Life was cheap in Bedlam but every now and again something would happen across that would disturb even the jaded citizens of the blight of Wisconsin. The corpse in question appeared ancient, even though several witnesses saw them mere hours before going to a hotel that charged by the hour. Normally Bedlam Cities "Finest" would sweep this desiccated corpse into the gutter and forget about it. But Merryn Blundell was a person of some influence being an auctioneer of some repute. Mostly there was high value, and dubious origins, that meant some very important Bedlamites wanted whoever had done this caught right away.

First National Bank, Downtown Emerald City 1st June 2018, 6:00 pm Downtown Rush hour traffic was normally pretty bad but today in this part of town it was particularly bad as the First National had just been robbed, the major cause of the problem was the bank's security car sparking big arcs of electricity from whoever had just robbed the place. Whoever had done the job was however gone by the time Pinnacle had arrived leaving a mystery to discover who had robbed the place. Even though villains were still rather new in Emerald City there were still quite a few people to choose from...

Eh'Qui 9 Time and Date unknown There were many signs that Facsimile wasn't on Earth anymore, the grass he was lying in was to green, the sky was a little too blue and looking down at him was several small horse-faced aliens. They looked down at him with a mix of concern and curiosity, after all as far as he knew he'd just fallen from the sky in front of them. The chatted excitedly to each other, apparently trying to work out if he was a danger, in cute little voices that sounded a little like horse whinnies.

Starbase Coffee, Freedom City 1st June 2018, 10:00 am It wasn't often that you got to meet a namesake but sat across from Hypno-Hippie was one, Lucy S Diamond. When London was swinging in the sixties as well as being a hero she was hanging with all the big names including her fellow Liverpudlian the Beatles, though all involved denied (somewhat weakly)) that she inspired that song. Despite the intervening years she still looked as stunning as ever dressed casually but still looking classy sipping on her coffee. "Are you all right pet? Bit of a shock I know but I need your help with summin'."

Summer 2018 Outside the foundry. Anna hesitated a moment before knocking, picked up her commlink, and spoke into it all of a sudden - "You ain't back there watchin' me go about my business, are ya?" After a moment's pause, her sidekick's voice came back, sounding amused. "Business?" "Ah...damn kids!" Anna muttered before she tucked the commlink back into the pocket of her black skirt and knocked on Nicola's front door. It had been a couple of months since Anna and Esperanza had permanently moved out of Nicola's headquarters, out to the facility at Belcher College that the two of them had renovated into a headquarters for Lady Horus and her sidekick Wadjet. They hadn't seen much of each other since. Anna shifted where she stood, running her hand up through her short blonde hair, and then knocked again.

Summer 2018 It's a fine summer evening in 2018, and three young superheroes are out doing their thing. When suddenly, wherever they are, they're not alone. Comparing notes later, this is all happening simultaneously on one exciting Thursday night, but of course none of them know this at the time. That simultaneity is quite a feat, given that it's the same guy talking to all four of them, even though it doesn't look it at the time. "Start again. Right," the guy in the Egyptian headdress and linen skirt continues as he appears behind Thoughtspeed. "I don't have much time, so let's make it brief." The guy with the calaca face paint and black body suit continues as he speaks to Grim, "I am Yves Norris. I'm from your future. Well, one of your futures, but let's not go into that just at the moment. We don't have the time. Well, you do, but I don't." The guy in what Sīxiǎng is pretty sure is a WWII-era Nationalist army uniform goes on, "My energy supplies are limited, and you must be aware that time travel uses energy exponentially proportional to duration and distance. Basic application of Jodi's Law. Not that you would know about Jodi, because she hasn't been born yet, which is why I'm here. This may not make much sense to you, I suppose." The guy in the Santa Claus costume blinked, studied Zenith, then said "Wait, this is the wrong costume for this time of year, isn't it? Sorry! But really - there's no time to fix it now..."

Freedom League Headquarters, Business Annex 10:00 EDT 7th May 2018 Even something like the Freedom League needed to do the normal drudgery necessary to keep an organisation trundling along, so tucked away in one corner of there building was a series of offices for more mundane paperwork. Surprisingly when Black Mamba had shown up to volunteer for the Auxiliaries he hadn't been met by one of the hero's but a young well dressed African American woman who introduced herself as Elizabeth Ishumi. She'd then led him through a maze of corridors to a small office and offered him a seat whilst she'd started going through his paperwork silently, it getting to that point of embarrassing silence...

Even as the tension left by the HATERS gathering in Liberty Park slowly died down, for the time being, at least, and the heroes of Freedom City were all going about their daily lives and stopping threats to innocent people as they came, another event was already being set up. Ads were placed on what seemed to be every single bus stop and lamppost in the city, with each one having phone number tear-off tags for people to take. If one were to take the time to read one of the ads, it would read, in a psychedelic font... We are living in a New Age of Gods and Monsters! So are you prepared to be enlightened on the divinity of the superhuman? If so, the Super Freaks and Pinnacle Path invite you to hear the message of the Creator and reconnect with the self and nature in a gathering that will be as far out as Nirvana itself! All people are welcome, regardless of whether or not you have powers! We will also be answering any questions you might have, so ask away! We will also be recruiting, for any who are interested in joining us! Notable guests will include the famous hero the Third Eye and our newest addition to the collective serving the Creator's will, the Hypno-Hippie. Admission is only $4 for adults 18 and up, $2 for children 4-17, and completely free of charge for children 3 and under. All proceeds will go directly to Greenpeace. Saturday, May the 12th at 1:00 PM at Liberty Park in Freedom City, New Jersey There will be music, too Free food and alcohol will be provided Call 555-108-SUPER for more information, or take a tear-off below As the days passed, tents, as well as a small stage, complete with speakers and a microphone, were all being set up. Rumors as to just what this "message" of these "Super Freaks" was were all over the place, and concerns that this might be the beginning of a violent cult, but since this was a charity event, and actual agents from the Greenpeace fund came by and confirmed their connections to this event, the Freedom City government let it pass. Comrade Frost, Thoughtspeed, and the third Scarab, as well as typical guards, had all been hired by the city government as security detail, to keep an eye on not only this Super Freaks religious movement and see what they make of it, but also to make sure the event goes as smoothly as possible, as the agents of Freedom City's government who hired them to do so realized that some people might not take too kindly to the idea of superpowered beings being worshipped as gods. Which leads us to the day of the actual gathering. May 12th, 2018 12:20 PM Liberty Park Grand Lawn Like the lovechild of Woodstock and an outdoor religious sermon, the lush, green fields were dotted with folding tents whose canopies had a tie-dye design on them, folding tables underneath them filled with fruits, vegetables, alcohol, but no meat. The stage overlooking it all had the Super Freaks logo and font on its background, and immediately preceding the stage, rows and of folding chairs were arranged in a very neat, orderly fashion, with a few spaces in between each section so people could get in and find their own chairs. Quite a few of the seats had been filled already. Several visitors had blatant mutations or "tells" that marked them as Terminus babies, mutants, magical beings, or what have you, though most of them were outwardly human. It is apparent that visitors from all ages and walks of life were anything from curious, to hopeful, to apprehensive, to something else entirely depending on the person you asked, as to just what this message of "the divinity of the superhuman" even was. The city had seen its fair share of self-styled gods with superpowers, as well as actual divine beings, more than a few of them supervillains and superheroes, so some people didn't know what to expect. In this town, you had to be prepared for anything. Even so, no one has actually started anything disruptive, yet at least. Many of them are currently waiting patiently, or perhaps impatiently, for the speakers to show themselves and make this whole thing worth their while. The entire event was fenced off, like a concert, from the rest of the park, though several openings in the fences were there, for some members of the staff to take admission money as more and more people waited in line to get in. The staff in question would be by far the most eye-catching of them all. Identified by their stereotypical hippie clothing, these were apparently members of the Super Freaks association, and some of them had blatant outward differences from the normal human form as well, like how one had butterfly wings, and how another looked like a giant horned humanoid tiger. Many of them were catering, setting up equipment, handing out flyers and schedules, or playing music on their instruments to entertain some of the bored children. With forty minutes until the start of the actual sermon, the heroes have some time to kill...