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  1. Sage Power Level: 15 (202/250) [300] Trade-Offs: +3 Attack / -3 Damage, +5 Defense / -5 Toughness Unspent PP: 48 In Brief: Eve Martel is an athletic teenage telepath and telekinetic from an exceptionally wealthy though altruistic family whose psychic members have been fighting the good fight for hundreds of years. Previous version here. Alternate Identities: Eve Alexis Martel, La Renarde Bleue ["The Blue Fox"] Identity: Secret Birthplace: Orléans, France Occupation: Student, Gymnast (former) Affiliations: Claremont Academy (Student), Martel Enterprises (Family Company), Young Freedom Family: Leon Martel (Father), Josephine Martel (Mother), Nicholas Marius Martel/Paladin (Brother), Isabel Jade Martel/Binary (Sister), Faith Martel/Seraph (Cousin), many others. Age: 18, Born 11 April (1994) Gender: Female Ethnicity: French Height: 5'0'' Weight: 110 lb. Eyes: Green Hair: White Description: Small in stature but possessing a powerful, toned, athletic frame, Eve Martel views the world through striking green eyes. Chin-length soft white hair frames a pretty, if otherwise unremarkable, heart-shaped face. Eve tends to dress in intense, rich colors accented with jewel tones, or contrasted with brighter white or icy pastels as these colors tend to compliment her cool complexion. Regardless of the color choices, her clothing is comfortable and well-made, though it tends to be rather understated in design. History: The youngest of three children, Eve Martel was born in France one year after the Terminus Invasion. Though Eve had been separated from her oldest brother Nicholas, she grew up with plenty of cousins her age. On occasion she would visit the extended family in the United States, where she would see her brother Nicholas or her cousin Faith, but she would always return home to France eventually. Enjoying every privilege the Martel family had to offer, Eve was encouraged, and provided the means, to set her own goals and pursue her dreams. As early as the age of seven, Eve took an interest in gymnastics bordering on obsession. That she had a natural talent for it only seemed to make her more determined to see just how far that natural talent could take her. Eve withdrew from school at the age of nine so she could focus on gymnastics, receiving tutoring while she was not working out in the gym. Soon she started to compete at a national and international level, doing well enough over the years that speculated she would earn a spot in the 2012 Olympics, even if she would be nearly two years older than most competitors. The day she turned fourteen was also a day of competition. The beginning of the day had already started on a high note with Eve scoring rather well in both the vault and the uneven bars. Then it all went pear-shaped. Twisting through the air on the balance beam the thoughts of everyone around her, from the spectators to the judges to the other competitors slammed into her mind. In one heartbeat she went from intensely focused to disoriented and confused and the results were tragic. Eve fell, the tip of her shoulder slamming into the balance beam, dislocating the collarbone. Eve screamed as the agony tore through her body and a pulse of mental energy slammed into everyone present in the area. The entire arena was brought to its knees, those present linked with Eve in her moment of suffering, a problem compounded as the link fed back in itself. Mercifully the event was short-lived, as Eve eventually passed out. Eve never fully recovered from that day, the awakening of her psychic voice robbing her of her physical one. While she continued to have the warmth and support of her family, she was officially barred from competition on the grounds that she wasn’t a “normal†human. Not one to sit idle, Eve shifted her focus to more martial pursuits and over the next two years under the tutelage of her father and other Martel family members, learned to refine her control over her mental abilities. Still, Eve doesn’t have complete control over her psychic ability, to those that have the ability to sense it she is like a beacon of psychic energy and those near her tend to pick up on her emotions. In the hope of somehow helping his daughter recover, Leon Martel sent Eve to live with her brother Nicholas, to put her as far away from the memories of what she lost and yet still near family, and it worked. The past year has seen a transformation in Eve, she's regained some measure of confidence, regained her ability to speak and made some deep and lasting friendships. Personality & Motivation: Eve possesses an athlete’s mentality, tackling obstacles before her with a single-minded ferocity. From a young age she has refused to accept limits and failure, and trained her mind and body to push through doubt, pain and fatigue. Eve is a very private individual and tends to keep to herself, presenting a mask of emotionless self-control to the rest of the world. But that's all it is, a mask, for she has a cheerful disposition and a warm, ready smile for those that she has opened up to. As a Martel, Eve holds herself to a high standard. The Martel motto of "I stand between evil and its victims, between darkness and light, between right and wrong. I stand between those I have sworn to defend and death." binds her. It takes only a handful of years to make a Martel, it takes far longer to create a civilzation worth defending. Amelie Dutemps, the Rogue Fox ["la Renard Rogue"], Eve's late Great Aunt is a prominent example of the Martel commitment to this ideal. Powers & Tactics: Eve possesses a great deal of psychic power in addition to being in phenomenal physical condition and leverages her telepathic and telekinetic abilities in a multitude of ways. In a straight up fight Eve will use her excellent physical conditioning to approach a target quickly and quietly, flanking and harassing her foe before retreating back into hiding just to repeat the process. Complications: Age: Eve is seventeen years old, a minor, which places numerous restrictions on what she is allowed to do without the consent of her guardian. And, honestly, sometimes adults simply don't take kids seriously. Enemies: Sage has spoiled the plans of numerous villains across a number of worlds. Fame: Eve is a former elite level gymnast and Olympic hopeful before injury forced an early retirement. In addition she is the youngest of the Martel's, a family internationally known for its philanthropy and social activism as well being the private owners of one of the world's largest biotechnology companies. Sage on the other hand enjoys the reputation being a member of Young Freedom. Identity: It's a constant struggle for Eve to keep her private and hero lives separate. Prejudice: Eve is a young, gay, Frenchwoman. Relationship: Eve is extremely fond of Etain Maher (Changeling) and thinks with her heart rather than her head where Etain is concerned. She also had a sibling like bond with Trevor Hunter (Midnight II), as well as a literal telepathic bond to the concealed crusader (a result of continual mental contact.) In addition, Eve maintains relatively close ties to former and current members of Young Freedom. Reputation: Sage helped take down an incarnation of Omega, Lord of the Terminus, an event guaranteed to bring the mortal teenager to the attention of other cosmic entities (let alone the Terminus!). Responsibility: Eve is a student at Claremont Academy and hero work is no excuse for missed class or late assignments! She is stubborn and will, if allowed, ignore injury and fatigue to place herself in harm's way and protect others be they her family, her friends, her teammates or an innocent. Abilities: 4 + 14 + 8 + 2 + 8 + 4 = 40PP Strength: 14 (+2) Dexterity: 24 (+7) Constitution: 18 (+4) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 18 (+4) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24PP Initiative: +15 Attack: +16 Psionics, +6 Base Grapple: +13 Defense: +18, +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4 Saving Throws: 3 + 3 + 6 = 12PP Toughness: +8 (+4 Con, +4 Defensive Roll) Fortitude: +7 (+4 Con, +3) Reflex: +10 (+7 Dex, +3) Will: +10 (+4 Wis, +6) Skills: 88 Ranks = 22PP Acrobatics 18 (+25, Skill Mastery) Concentration 6 (+10) Escape Artist 8 (+15, Skill Mastery) Knowledge (Business) 4 (+5) Languages 2 (French [Native], English, ASL) Notice 16 (+20) Sense Motive 16 (+20, Skill Mastery) Stealth 18 (+25, Skill Mastery) Feats: 48PP Acrobatic Bluff Attack Specialization 5 (Psionics) Beginner's Luck Benefit 4 (Status [Martel Heiress], Wealth 3 [Filthy Rich]) Challenge: Fast Task 1 (Acrobatic Bluff) Defensive Roll 2 Dodge Focus 12 Eidetic Memory Evasion 2 Grappling Finesse Hide in Plain Sight Improved Initiative 2 Jack-of-All-Trades Leadership Luck 4 Power Attack Quick Change 1 Set-Up Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Escape Artist, Sense Motive, Stealth) Teamwork 3 Ultimate Save (Will) Up The Wall Powers: 24 + 11 + 4 + 1 + 2 + 5 + 9 = 56PP Psionics 11 (22PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 2) [24PP] BP: Strike 8 (Extras: Penetrating 5 [Damage 15], Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2 [100%], Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Knockback 2, Mighty [+2 Damage], Split Attack, Subtle) (Psionic Blade; mutant, slashing, piercing) AP: Strike 8 (Extras: Alternate Save [Will], Feats: Affects Insubstantial 2 [100%], Improved Critical 2 [18-20], Mighty [+2 Damage], Subtle) (Psionic Blade; mental, mutant) AP: Move Object 7 (STR 35 [Heavy Load: 1.5 tons], Extras: Range [Perception], Feats: Precise) (Telekinesis; mutant) Psionics 5 (10PP Array, Feats: Alternate Power 1) [11PP] BP: Communication 6 (Mental [Range], Feats: Rapid [x10], Subtle) linked Mind Reading 1 (Extras: Action 2 [Free], Effortless, Mental, Flaws: Duration [instant/Lasting], Limited [surface Thoughts]) (Networked Telepathy; mutant, mental) AP: Move Object 3 (STR 15 [Heavy Load: 200 lb.], Extras: Range [Perception], Feats: Precise) (Telekinesis; mutant) Comprehend 2 (Languages 2 [understood by All/Understand All]) [4PP] Super-Senses 1 (Communication Link [Mental, Trevor Hunter/Midnight II]) (Telepathic Conduit; mental, mutant) [1PP] Super-Senses 2 (Danger Sense [Mental], Uncanny Dodge [Mental]) [2PP] Super-Senses 5 (Normal Mental Sense [Accurate 2, Acute, Radius, Ranged]) [5PP] Telekinetic Augmentation 1.8 (9PP Container [Passive, Permanent]) [9PP] Leaping 2 (x5 [Running Long Jump: 60 ft.]) [2PP] Speed 1 (10 mph, 100 ft./rnd) [1PP] Super-Movement 1 (Slow Fall) [2PP] Super-Movement 2 (Wall-Crawling 2 [Full-Speed]) [4PP] Drawbacks: -0PP None DC Block: ATTACK RANGE DC/SAVE EFFECT Psionic Blade Touch 25/Will Damage (Staged) Psionic Blade Touch 25/Toughness Damage (Staged) Unarmed Touch 17/Toughness Damage (Staged) Abilities (40) + Skills (22) + Feats (48) + Powers (56) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (12) - Drawbacks (0) = 202/250 Power Points Notes: There is a bunch of stacking going on with this sheet. Both Leaping powers combine to form Leaping 2 (the combined effect is noted on the Leaping inside the Telekinetic Augmentation container) and Move Object 3 and Move Object 7 stack to create the following: Move Object 10 (STR 50 [Heavy Load: 12.8 tons], Extras: Range [Perception], Feats: Precise)
  2. The growing group of young metahumans and aliens found the flight to Canada considerably less eventful than the one to India, but their reception was equally less warm. There was no one to greet the four teenagers as they disembarked at Thunder Bay International Airport after a brief stop over on the west coast, walking through the long corridors of shopping establishments before finding a local map and a set of hastily scrawled directions left for them at the information desk. The path marked for them in ballpoint pen left the city and traveled northward, into what looked like a wooded area. The desk attendant's sunny smile flickered briefly as she glanced at the location of the broad X indicating the route's destination, but she was evidently too polite to say anything unbidden. At the bottom of the written direction, on a page that had clearly been torn out of a journal, the scratchy penmanship finished, DON'T stray into the woods. And thanks. --DS
  3. Feel free to make any Knowledge, Gather Information etc. checks you think would be relevant!
  4. After the excitement of their last flight, the final leg to India was likely a terrible anticlimax...but boring isn't always a bad thing. Still, after nearly ten hours of peanuts, recycled air, and terrible movies the rest of the passengers certainly looked like they were ready to be on the ground and stretching their legs. That plus a little more time to get through security and claim whatever luggage they'd brought and a plane's worth of tourists and natives were stepping out into a warm but overcast Mumbai summer day. The city was busy and streets were even busier, but as fortune had it the collective of heroic envoys didn't have very far to go: right there at the sidewalk stood a tall, dour-looking man in a button-up shirt and what could only have been his daughter. Both were standing almost unnaturally still, like metal rods against the shifting tide of the crowd, but they were clearly watching the groups leaving the airport. The daughter, an attractive teenage girl in fairly conservative clothes, was holding a sign that read only: CLAREMONT.
  5. Ashton June 7, 2011 A couple of days after the Claremont kids finally had their graduation, the general word went out in the superheroic community that Richard Milhouse Lucas, the long-time sidekick to the Freedom League back in the 1960s and 1970s, had perished in the line of duty. Rick had been a difficult man for many of his old friends to get along with in the last few years as his bitterness towards the current generation of superheroes grew, but he'd stayed in touch with everyone and always been there when they needed help. He'd regularly played host to various parties and fundraisers for that generation of heroes as they got older, using the celebrity he'd gained from his time with the League and his best-selling series of 'men's super-adventure novels' to help his old friends who'd never gotten a dime from their work stay financially comfortable even in retirement. He'd gone into seclusion some months earlier, and hadn't been seen much sense. Only a select few heroes personally associated with the Freedom League and the upper tier at Claremont knew about Rick's descent into madness after his son's short-lived death; what he'd done to rewrite the world and how he'd nearly abandoned it in disgust before giving his life to keep Omega from attacking it again. All superheroes invited to the service were invited to come in full costume, while in lieu of flowers Rick's testament asked that they donate to his son's alma mater: Claremont Academy. And now that a long life had come to an end, if too early for those who'd loved him, it was a time for the memorial service Rick had requested: a memorial service was all they could have, since his body was now somewhere beneath what had once been another version of Freedom City cast deep into the Zero Zone. At the Lucas house, Mark was studying himself in his bedroom mirror as he adjusted his suit and tie, trying to keep his emotions in check. Downstairs, his mom was entertaining Duncan Summers and his daughter Jasmine, the headmaster and his daughter being the first to show up for the service despite it being some time away. For Mark's part, after some consideration, he'd sent invitations out to all his schoolfriends, even those who he knew had had little use for his father while he was alive. If they didn't show, that was fine: he trusted them enough to know they wouldn't disrupt what the moment was about. It was about family...and when he thought about Young Freedom, he decided with a nod to his reflection, that meant they belonged there too.
  6. OOC thread for Conspiracy Theory. 'cos we're gonna need it!
  7. Continued from >There Won't Be A Next Time June 1st, 2011. 8:05 AM Young Freedom missed graduation, but then again, so did everyone else. The ceremony had been postponed the minute the five young heroes had disappeared from view, for all that they'd reappeared only five minutes later on the other side of town with the broken chestplate of Omega's armor and a wild story to tell. There were debriefings to come, no doubt extensive ones that would exhaustively pour over every detail of the fight at the end of reality and all that had come before it: the death of the multiverse, the trip to four worlds, the appearance and disappearance of Rick Lucas, and finally the seeming destruction of the Lord of Entropy himself. But first, Bolt's speedy trip back to Freedom Hall after the reappearance of Travis, Martha, and Erin's cat on the Claremont lawn had meant the League teleporters were already working. By the time the Young Freedom kids had given their hasty explanations to the startled Captain Thunder and headed inside for their debriefing, their missing loved ones, even Quo-Dis who was holding a very familiar orange cat, were waiting for them inside. For their part, Mark and Martha took a look at each other, Mark's look confirming what Martha had already known, and they simply embraced, the moment too sharp, too painful, coming after too much overwhelming emotion even for weeping. "I'm proud of you, Mark," Martha whispered fiercely. "So very proud."
  8. Continued from >The Earth Died Screaming Earth-EZO1 was a stark world of grim horror and sere beauty. Redbird's fast flight over the western United States showed them a world of dead cities and empty ruins beneath. Most cities had burned by now in their long untended period; Boise, Denver, St. Louis, and the rest were shells of what they'd once been. Streets were clogged with the rusting shells of cars and debris, and even unburnt buildings had begun to sway and fall. They were, at least, too high up for any lingering smells from beneath, though most of those had faded with the years of quietude. On another day, they might have appreciated the natural beauty beneath: the Misssissippi free of man's pollution, trees growing where cities had once been, a herd of bison stampeding beneath them in Missouri, what distinctly looked like a lion watching them as they skipped through Appalachian peaks in the Carolinas. But there was no time for that now, not with where they were going. Undersea was all quiet darkness as Redbird, with Midnight's skilled hands on her handlebards, took them beneath the waves. The ocean was dead of people; the Atlantean genocide having been one of the first outbreaks of the hero flu, but here too there were fish at play and the sunlight passing through the waves. There was life here, if no human life, and a vast universe beyond them. This world was more than just a tool for saving all reality; Earth-EZO1, for all its horror, was a world worth saving too. As they passed under the water, lit only dimly by the glow of Redbird's lights and the shimmering blue of Corbin's cold fire, Mark looked around at all the faces of his friends, thinking about the people underneath the masks. Erin, Trevor, Corbin, Eve, and their new friend Red Falcon, who with his plasma rifle would be defending Redbird even if they all had to leave it behind. They'd all come so far, over so many years and so much time, and now they were about to face their greatest challenge yet. They were approaching the river now, Edge riding behind Sage in one compartment, Cobalt Templar and Red Falcon on another side, and Midnight grim and determined behind the wheel with Wander behind him. For just a second, Mark closed his eyes and saw his mother's face, then his father's. Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. And then they were erupting out of the water and Freedom City was given over to the forces of Hell: grim Terminus towers rising where once the Pyramid Plaza had stood and on the site of where City Hall had been, the downtown of Freedom City transformed into a Terminus hellscape of firepits and belching machinery: and as Redbird roared towards the battered bulk of Freedom Hall, he saw the Omegadrones beneath look up. "Let's do this! For Freedom!"
  9. Another school year had finished, but at Claremont Academy, attention had already turned to the coming semester. The private school, secretly specializing in teenagers with superhuman abilities and the starting place for many new heroes, was looking at one of its largest groups of new enrollees ever in the coming year, leaving Headmaster Duncan Summers with a few logistical challenges even before they arrived. A number of the school's most accomplished students had graduated, but in the process a few of their younger peers had proven themselves to be trustworthy and able leaders. It was thus that Eve Martel and Corbin Hughes were assigned a most unusual extracurricular assignment. Summers tasked the pair with picking up four new students before the new school year, traveling across the globe to gather them together. Luckily, the first of the would-be-Claremonters was already in Freedom City, and was to be found at the Lab in Hanover. Inside the lobby of the expansive center for experimentation and learning, a well groomed man in a sharply professional outfit manned the desk, scanning a number of monitors in front of him and greeting new arrivals. The headmaster had been somewhat vague about the abilities of any of the students Eve and Corbin would be retrieving, supposedly as a matter of privacy and security, but the remainder of Young Freedom got the distinct impression that the entire trip was also something of a test for all involved. Of course, when Summers was involved most things were. Now that they were there, the telepath and ringbearer had little to go on besides an unusual name: Sharl Tulink.
  10. EMP 8 (PFs: Extended Reach 2, Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Precise) [18 pp] The plane loses the maximum TOU from the Drain, which is 8, dropping it to +5 Tou vs 28: 10 Okay, so everything electronic is technically fried. IC post ahoy. Citizen goes on 16; Rogue goes on 9
  11. Continued from >Leaves from the Vine Earth-Z-Omega-1 Edge froze in shock as the toppling tower came down right where he was! Unable to dodge in time, instead he stood his ground and fired back. "NO!" His eyes glowing black, he fired straight upwards as the reality of this dead world warped around him at his will. He would not die because of a falling building! Mark Lucas would not let this, or anything else, stop his friends in their efforts to save all of existence from the dark machinations of Omega! At his command, the falling debris broke around him like a tide breaking around a rock, the so-small clear zone around him the only island of sanity beneath the avalanche of falling steel, concrete, and glass. A falling brick bounced against his back, knocking him to his knees, but Mark did not fall as the collapsing debris fell around him, his powers warping the very air and very rocks to keep his friends from being buried by the avalanche, even if he wasn't able to save all of them from the damage produced by the collapsing Needle. Before he even focused on the aerial battle, he called out over the echoes of the collapse, "Young Freedom! Sound off!"
  12. Continued from >Familiar Faces Earth C-Future-2 With just enough warning to grab what they needed, Young Freedom slipped from one world to another in the early morning light of a clear summer's day. Within moments, they found themselves in a new world: this time in suburban Kingston, right under the WELCOME TO KINGSTON sign installed just a few years ago by the City Council. Pulling his costume all the way on, Mark pushed his thoughts about his father out of his head and looked around. It looked like everyone was dressed and in costume, though no one had had much warning about getting their clothes on and ready to go. For a moment, he thought they'd somehow solved everything and gone back to their world: Kingston in 2035 didn't look that different. Sure, the car in the suburban garage they were next to looked electric and had the sleek, efficient lines of something from a science fiction movie or car company special showroom, and sure the billboard down the street was a shimmering spectacle of light. It took him a few moments to take in the black. Black banners were hanging on every house, each with a date emblazoned in silver: 6/21/2034: NEVER FORGET! Turning around, he gasped at the sight of Freedom City; shining towers rose high in a monument to futurity, but every single one was under repair, with the marks of devastation visible even from this distance to his inexpert eyes. What had happened here, and what were they rebuilding from? Before he could react to the grim monument in suburbia and the recovering city before them, suddenly there was a cascade of light in front of them on the green lawn and five superheroes formed up out of what was obviously a very advanced teleporter's beam. In the lead of the largely female group was a >tall brunette in white and blue, a pair of dice on her costume's chest showing snake eyes. Next to her was a >muscular young man in all black, long ribbons extending from the back of his head like a novel kind of cape, a familiar symbol on his chest. Next to him was a young woman >Corbin almost recognized, her face like the young woman he'd met who claimed to be his daughter, but with a costume subtly different, more like Quo-Dis' than anything else and cast in purple from the ring on her finger. In the rear were two older women; >one with green hair and a purple and black outfit, and behind her a gleaming metal battlesuit with waving metallic tentacles like a robotic octopus. The group eyed each other for a moment before the ring-bearing girl said, her serious look suddenly cracking to pain, "You'd...you'd better be who you look like!" "Stand down, Vril Knight," said the dice lady, giving her ally a serious look before looking at the others, shooting a wide-eyed glance at Erin and Mark before mastering her own facial expression. "I'm Lucky Strike. Welcome to 2035, Young Freedom. We've been briefed on why you're here and we've located your target. Please, remember that you're from the past of an alternate world." It sounded like she was talking to her own team as much as Young Freedom. "You can't...you can't change what you see here. This is Midnight, Vril Knight, Amaryllis, and Fusion. We're here to help you get to Freedom Hall safely." "Call me Psilent," replied 'Midnight', his voice raspy and dry, with just the faint hint of a French accent. "While he's here."
  13. Continued from >The End of the Beginning Earth-M-Lucas-1 Young Freedom left the grim darkness of an Erde morning and found themselves beneath a blue, sunny sky. They were in a clean, well-maintained alley in what was clearly downtown Freedom City: the trashcans all had their lids, none of the windows were broken, and there was no sign of Nazis. Visible to their left was the Pyramid Plaza, the triple towers rising high against the clear morning sky, the American flag flying high overhead. For a moment, anyway, those of them not familiar with other dimensions could think they'd all gone home. That was, at least, until the black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am came roaring down the street opposite, and the first blasting sounds of funky disco came their way from its overpowered speakers. Outside, the streets of Freedom City looked to be pulled from the pages of the 1970s seen through a warped modern lens: men with elaborate mustaches and half-open shirts that showed off their hairy chests walked alongside ladies in brightly-colored wide-hemmed bell-bottoms, over their heads computerized billboards advertising a too-young Farrah Fawcett starring in the latest Michael Bay movie. The streets were certainly more diverse than they'd last seen, with muscular black men with magnificently coiffed hair in the company of ladies with impressive afros: indeed, from the lady speaker on the corner calling for equal rights for all men and women to the hippies playing in the park, it looked as if someone had gone around and collected as many oppressed minority groups as they could and dropped them on the funky streets of Freedom City. Suddenly, a startled exclamation came as a policeman walking by the alley spotted the quintet of dimension-lost heroes. In a hammy Irish stage accent that nonetheless sounded all too real, he exclaimed, "It's...it's...oh mother of Mary, it's Counter Freedom!" He took out his whistle and blew it as hard and loud as he could. "I knew you crazy criminals would be back one day!" he called, whipping out his gigantic belt radio as he backed away from the teens. "You just stay back! The Freedom League will set you whippersnappers right!"
  14. Continued from >Worn-Out Places The black dots faded, leaving behind them an ominous natural darkness. They were all standing on a cracked concrete floor, the distant sound of rumbling machinery and gunfire echoing in their ears. The air was rank and still with the heat of summer, and the sound of scuttling rats was at least as loud as the noise outside. And inside they were: the room around them seemed to be a damp, ruined basement, with only the broken remnants of stone steps leading up to ground level. As the heroes walked closer to the steps, thin rays of moonlight stabbed through the edges of the ruined ceiling. The bits of rubble shifted and moved under their strides, stirring up full regiments of fleeing rats in their wake. It was Trevor who recognized where they were first, thanks both to his piercing gaze and a sudden, nagging familiarity with the room. They were in the basement of the Rothsteins, the elderly Jewish couple who lived in the same sprawling block of mansions as his grandfather, a convival enough bunch whose main virtue as neighbors was being too busy with their poodle-breeding hobby to worry much about their elderly chemist neighbor and his quiet grandson. Standing in the rubble of their home, looking fresh enough to have been destroyed just a few years ago, it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. For his part, Edge led the way: with a gesture from him there were new stone stairs to climb, and he was up pushing open the door to gaze out at the scene outside. And what a scene it was: three night-black helicopters were whizzing by overhead, making a beeline for the shape of a very familiar house, leading the way behind a half-dozen armored vehicles coming out of a darkened city with a broken skyline lit only by searchlights. The Nazis were out in force tonight, and they were heading straight for the Midnight Manor. The helicopters were going to be in range of the Manor in seconds...
  15. Continued from >Noise of Thunder Mark felt first a whiteness, pure and all-embracing, then terrible, all-encompassing blackness, as if a quiet non-existence had been replaced with the certain knowledge of absolute destruction. And then he was waking up, his face pressed to an unfamiliar wooden surface that it took him a bizarre second to recognize: he was pressed against not the floor, but the far wall of his mother's art studio, surrounded by the furniture, art supplies, and his mother's scattered colored pencils that had all evidently taken a hard spin to the left at some point when the local gravity had taken a hard turn in the wrong direction. Pulling himself to his feet, he gazed around a room cast sideways and lit with an eerie red glow from outside. He counted off with his eyes: Wander, Midnight, Cobalt Templar, Sage, Trevor's grandfather, even his mother, all of them cast askew by the warped gravity just as the room's contents had been. Ignoring the shuttered window for a moment, not to mention of seeing the whole world swept away into nothingness, Mark focused right on Martha. "Mom? Are you all right? What happened?" He couldn't quite keep the judgement out of his voice; he'd had good reason to be angry with his parents for a long time now! For her part, Martha was dusting herself off. "Oh, Mark..." She embraced him. "I'm so sorry it happened like this, and that I left the way I did...but I saw you'd be all right and I had to spend what time I could with your father. I don't know if you can forgive me...but because we're all here, it was for a good cause." She let out a breath. "Your father is waiting for us in the study. For all of us. He'll explain everything."
  16. June 1, 2011 8 AM Mark stood in his dorm room, peering out the window at the junior students working to set up the stage, folding seats, banners, and other paraphernalia of a Claremont graduation. Mike had already moved his stuff out, leaving a hollow space on one side of the room. The Class of 2011 was just a couple of hours from graduation; he was just about to finish high school. He didn't feel quite as triumphant as he'd once thought he would. Maybe it was because he was alone; he'd have a few cousins in the crowd, but neither Rick nor Martha Lucas had made any sign of coming to their son's graduation. They'd made no sign at all of where they'd gone, just a month earlier, and made no sign of coming back. His parents were gone. And worse, it looked like he'd be going too: he was happy about the thought of working with UNISON, and loved the idea of going to Africa to work for people who needed the kind of help most superheroes couldn't give them. But it still meant going away from the city that had been his home his whole life, from the friends and extended family he'd known for so long. He checked his watch, then gathered up his bundle of graduation stuff (just so he wouldn't lose it), and decided to head upstairs to where at least one friend would probably be. He figured this was one night she probably hadn't spent at Trevor's. Amid the hustle and bustle of his fellow students getting ready for graduation, Mark knocked on Erin's door. How many more times am I going to do this?, he asked himself. Not many. No one I know will be living here soon! That thought was soothing enough to relax him, at least for the moment. He wasn't really good at dwelling on things for long, not even on a big day like this. They were all moving on, after all, and surely the always-prepared Erin had more in mind for the future than he did.
  17. 11 April 2011 Claremont Academy With her customary grace Eve slipped into her dorm and with a sigh latched the door behind her. It was early afternoon, just after the last classes of the day and to the casual observer nothing would appear amiss. To someone that actually knew the telepathic gymnast however, they would notice that she was troubled; not from any outward expression but from what she wasn't doing. Instead of changing into her exercise clothing, preparing for an afterschool workout, she padded through the small room dropping her knapsack on the ground with little care for its contents as she made her way to her bed, kicking off her shoes as she went. Collapsing face first into her pillow, the telepath lay that way for a few moments before rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Happy Birthday.
  18. February 1, 2011 Earth-Prime This is exactly where Young Freedom belongs. It's been raining for days now, what was once drizzles transforming into thick, heavy drops that come as part of a torrential downpour, turning what should have been a lovely flowering of spring into a cold, sopping wet bog. Exposed grass is wet and the earth beneath it muddy, and the city's levees have been shored up along the Wading River. All that wouldn't be so bad, except that's not just happening here. What was a joke for meteorologists last week has become all too serious today: it's raining everywhere. All through New Jersey, all through New York; across the East Coast and across America. The entire continental United States is under the biggest storm system anyone's ever seen, maybe ever heard of, and the rain is getting worse. The natural assumption, of course, is that culprit is the villainous Dr. Stratos, the wicked weather manipulator. The League is off dealing with that, leaving the city in the hands of its teen heroes. Edge stood by the levee, watching with worry as the river level slowly rose. He was doing all he could to keep the water level down, standing on the dam and draining away the water as it came in, a thousand improbable accidents sending the water cascading downriver and into the Atlantic, but he wasn't powerful enough to stop a storm this big: maybe no one was. Trusting that the rest of Young Freedom was busy, either helping with the sandbags or assisting the engineers reinforcing the seawall in other ways, Mark looked up to see the familiar shape of the Pegasus spaceplane dipping low through the storm, heading for nearby Freedom Hall. _Thank goodness!_ Edge thought. _The League is here!_ That was when a tremendous lightning bolt came ripping out of the storm, heralding a massive tornado that came roaring down after it, and before Edge could do anything, bolt and tornado both struck the plane, shattering it to a thousand pieces in a jagged-edged explosion that tore open a violent hole in the sky. As the engineers and volunteers around him started to panic, Edge threw up barriers in the sky, falling debris vanishing in circles of mist as the Pegasus came tumbling down, shouting to his teammates for help... --- February 1, 2011 Earth-No Designation (aka, 'Earth-Paragons') "Oh my freaking God!" As the League's plane broke into pieces and vanished, leaving behind a shimmering purple void that had to be provenance of paragon powers, Edge shouted in surprise as pieces of the falling plane began tumbling to earth all around him: he pushed his powers to the utmost to deflect them, sending showers of debris falling away from him, away from the hard-working engineers and volunteers below. It had been an awful few days as unprecedented weather disasters swept the nation, as rumors of terrible paragon powers unleashed began to terrify a frightened populace; he'd seen reports of lynchings in Texas and Arkansas, and televangelists speaking grimly of the End Times. It wasn't the end for Mark, but despite his best efforts, people around him were dying, even as the scream of the waterspout in the river filled his ears. It was all over in a few terrible seconds, and though he'd saved many people, he was surrounded by disaster! Whipping out his cellphone to call up the linked phones of his teammates, Mark yelled, "Listen, you guys! I need help in City Center right now!" Claremont's young paragons had been divided up through the city to help deal with the rising water, the better to promote their individual Q-ratings while each of them combatted the threatening disaster that was so baffling to both the Freedom League and the Vanguard alike, indeed, to all the scientists and supers working for the government. "The Pegasus just blew up!"
  19. Trevor Hunter brought his hand down hard on the shrill alarm clock next to his bed with an annoyed grunt, and let his eyes drift open slightly. Immediately regretting it, he threw the outstretched arm over his face, brushing through the small cloud of midnight mist he'd instinctively released to block out the offending rays shining through the window of his dormitory room. Casting about with his free hand, he located the pair of sunglasses he'd recently taken to wearing and stiffly donned them, rolling cramped shoulder blades with a mild grimace. The young man realized that he was still wearing the pants from the day before, having barely managed to toss his shirt into the growing heap of laundry in the corner of the room before collapsing into bed. Grudgingly, he admitted that he was probably pushing himself too hard; even given his trained stamina and copious amounts of caffeine, he couldn't keep up his current sleep schedule, or lack thereof, without increasing consequences. Hauling himself to his feet, Trevor reached into the open closet to grab a dark blue dress shirt from a hanger, squinting as he threw it on and waited for his eyes to adjust to the daylight. His time at Claremont had added a significant amount of lithe muscle to his wiry frame; though he was still notably lanky, the youth was slowly filling out to match his substantial height. Suppressing a curse as he accidentally stepped on a loose piece of machinery that had strayed from his workbench, Trevor continued to get dressed. Opting the run a hand once through his hair before covering it with his beaten fedora rather than a shower under harsh fluorescent lights, the teen stepped out into the hallway, making his way towards the common room and rubbing his eyes distractedly as he went. Hopefully a brief walk would alleviate some the pains left from an awkward night's sleep.
  20. James nodded to himself as he took a seat. He’d sent the message to the others once he was ready. He didn’t want to meet at Claremont, not with nigh-omnipotent Summers there. He hadn’t said much in the message besides that he needed to meet with them about something relating to the “L†event. At the moment only Persephone and Phantom knew what he had in mind. While this wasn’t exactly super secret, it wasn’t something he planned on broadcasting either. This was more…off the books kind of thing. He waited for them in a parking lot of Dairy Queen, sitting on table and eating an ice cream.
  21. Things had finally started settling down after the craziness with Mark's dad, and Erin was glad. It was sad to see her usually irrepressible friend so depressed, but it wasn't like Rick was dead, probably. Things would get better for him eventually, they always seemed to work out that way for Mark. And given what she knew of his lineage, maybe that wasn't so surprising. For her own part, Erin knew things only went well for her when she put a lot of hard work into them, so that's what she was busy doing today. Her acrobatic talents had strengthened significantly through the winter and spring, but she still wasn't quite where she wanted to be. With the Doom Room occupied by a Next Gen training session, it was the perfect time to work in the gym. Claremont's gym was big enough to be housed in a building all its own, a huge open expanse of floor with everything from a basketball court to wrestling mats to a full set of workout and gymnastics equipment, all ringed by an indoor running track. The high vaulted ceiling allowed for high ropes and trapezes to be hung, along with bars that allowed for jumps and flips far above the floor. Erin worked there often, but today she contented herself with the uneven bars, whipping herself around them like a demented pinwheel, then leaping from one to the other and back again, using hands, feet, elbows, anything she might need to be able to catch herself with one day. A few other students were working out as well, but they all stayed out of each others' way.
  22. It took some doing, but if there was a student unaware of the end of the year party at the new AEON building, it wasn't for lack of trying. Now, while some students had... concerns over Alex being the entire decorating committee, when they arrived at the large ballroom near the top of the luxury building, those doubters were pleasantly surprised. The entire room was decked out in creams and dark blues, gold serving as the accent. It was both a nod to the school colors and an elegant color scheme for the high quality linens. There was a dance floor, of course, and a dj set up in the corner along with a small stage. In another corner, a photographer was set up to do professional photos. It was staffed with AEON personnell who had been gently coached to look the other way at any sudden displays of power. Alex had been over seeing the set up for much of the day, but she did vanish to her office to change and reappear shortly before the doors were scheduled to open. As tasteful as the ballroom was, it was no surprise that Alex was a bright spot of color in a dress that started in a butter yellow color at the neckline and slowly deepened to a deep red at the fluttering hem around her ankles. She was standing in the center of the dancefloor, looking up at the net of balloons attached to the vaulted ceiling, making certain that it wouldn't drop away early.
  23. Stepping smoothly out of the Pitchoo and onto the Claremont campus, Trevor was struck both by the genius of the airship's design and the absurdity of its aesthetics. At some point he was going to have to get Chris to introduce him to the craft's engineer, but for the time being, the brightly clad teenager seemed to be in a singular hurry, taking off again as soon as his passengers had disembarked. As the speck of green disappeared into the distance, Trevor regarded Eve out of the corner of his eye. --I believe we had a deal,-- he mentally sent to the telepath, the texture of his thoughts mild but steady.
  24. Date: 10 May 2010 Eve stared out the darkly tinted windows at the main entrance to Claremont Academy, lost in thought, stomach knotted with emotion [Anxiety/Curiosity]. A week ago she was still home in Orléans, France packing for her transatlantic flight. Less than a week ago her brother Nicholas introduced her to a man named Duncan Summers. And now she was here. “Eve?†Eve frowned a moment, the sound of her name jarring her thoughts back to the present. “Eve?†She turned away from the window and glanced at the man sitting across from her. Blond hair, green eyes and an easy smile, Nicholas Martel was the brother she barely knew and yet she could see faint hint of concern etched on his face. --Yes Nick?— “You’re worrying again. Just relax, everything will be fine. Besides, Faith is here so you shouldn’t have any problems meeting people.†Nicholas’s words had the effect he was looking for as he felt the anxiety fade from Eve until only the sense of curiosity remained, which soon vanished as well as she brought her emotion under control. Nick smiled, and tapped a knuckle against the window glass, “Off you go, then. I’ll send someone by later with the rest of your clothing.†Eve sighed and stepped out of the car as her door was opened by the driver. Turning back to glance at her brother, she smiled. --Thank you for coming, Nick.— “Of course. Oh, tell Faith that dinner Sunday will be at my place, will you?†Eve nodded at Nicholas while accepting her bag that the driver retrieved from the trunk of the car. She smiled at the driver and inclined her head before settling the bag over her shoulder and striding off toward the Academy. She didn’t look back.
  25. And then the kids were elsewhere. They were gone from the false reflection of Freedom Hall, standing instead on the lawn of the Lucas family house, standing among the rubble of the battlefield that had killed Mark just a few hours earlier. Except he was alive, standing there amid the group of teens, and Rick and a shell-shocked looking Martha were standing there just a few yards away. "Dad!" Mark broke from the crowd and ran to his father, just as Martha called her husband's name and ran to him. But even as they did so, the teens saw the black, inky shapes beginning to break away from Rick, flaring up into invisibility like rising soap bubbles as they left his body to flare upwards and vanish in the sky. "I'm sorry, I can't stay," he was apologizing over his family's pleas, arms around Mark and Martha both as he slowly, inexorably vanished elsewhere, some place beyond even James's dimensional vision. "The universe can't survive two reality warpers, not and let humanity keep its freedoms." He hugged Martha. "I'll see you again soon. I promise. I love you so much, heart of my heart..." He hugged Mark, his body now so thin as to be translucent. "I love you, Mark." He pulled back, on the edge of vanishing. "You've always been my hero, Mark! Always!" And with that, with a single, devastated cry from Mark's mother as she collapsed into her son's arms, Rick Lucas was gone.
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