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  1. It was the early morning hours at the hospital when Mark decided to give Erin on a call, sure on a whim that his friend would be awake and with time on her hands even this early in the semester. His mom had gone home, and he was the last family of his grandma's still over there. He couldn't just leave till he was sure she was okay, but he didn't want to be alone either. "Hey, Erin. It's me, Mark," he said unnecessarily. "Are you doing anything?"
  2. Earth-XX September 3, 2010 Trailing her usual aura of good feelings and cheerful optimism, Marcie Lucas walked through the halls of Clairemont Academy with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. For once she wasn't in uniform, either her Edge costume or the blue and gold of Clairemont's cheerleading squad; rather in a pink sweater and blue jeans that wouldn't have looked out of place on a girl her age back in the 1950s. Maybe her mother's disappearance a few months earlier had changed her life for the worse, but she wasn't going to let that get her down! Books under her arms, she headed into the nearly-empty science building. "Hey, Aaron!" she said with a cheerful wave as she caught sight of the hunky loner Aaron White, walking into the same corridor of the science wing that she was. Aaron wasn't exactly her type: she preferred guys like that hunky Zach Harris, even if he was a little too angry for her tastes, but she could see why so many of her friends secretly had the hots for the dimension-hopping powerhouse. He certainly filled out his uniform well! She ran after him, her Sketchers squeaking slightly on the tiled floor. "Are you taking the expanded physics class too? Isn't it cool that-" - Earth-Prime September 3, 2010 "...we can get out of the whole first semester of senior physics just by being here for a few experiments! I guess it's more important for us to learn about super-science than boring stuff like physics." Mark grinned at Erin as they headed inside. "Looks like we're here first." Ms. Harcourt was there to greet them both, nodding a polite hello. "Mr. Lucas, Ms. White! Nice to see both of you." She smiled. "I always appreciate volunteer assistants. I'll be especially glad to have someone here who's as resistant to trans-dimensional radiation as you are, Erin. Why don't the two of you get started setting up the equipment," she said, pointing to the large Y-frame set against one wall, "and I'll get the others going when they arrive."
  3. The Freedom City Medical Center was seen as a safe haven to many before the announcement earlier today. Its staff was measured in the thousands and had state of the art medical equipment; there was no where in the world where you could get better attention. As violence swept the streets, the hospital was soon filled to the point of breaking. Now if Atlas's threat comes to pass, the hospital could very well turn into a feeding ground with a death toll measured in the thousands.
  4. A couple of weeks after prom, Mark invited his friends over to his house. Well, the people who still were his friends: he wasn't really talking much to Eddie these days, but most of his colleagues from Young Freedom were on the list. He was standing outside the door of the Lucas house to greet them when they arrived, the lawn looking just a little grubbier and the house a little dingier than when the Young Freedom members had been there last. Mark himself was out of costume, but also out of the black, depressing clothes he'd been wearing most everywhere but prom for the last couple of months. In a white shirt and slacks, he looked downright respectable.
  5. As he climbs out of the taxi in front of the massive gate tower that mark the front of the prestigious Claremont Academy, a tall, dark-skinned, blonde haired young man glances around, a bit hesitant. The whole place is a little upscale for what he was used to, and it's not like his grades really warranted a place like this, but Mister Albright had insisted. "I don't see why I should go to a boarding school, let alone a boarding school a mile from my house." "Now, John, Claremont Academy isn't an ordinary school. It's run by an old friend of mine, Duncan Summers. He's made the school into a place where young men and women can learn to use their powers responsibly, and to work with others, as well as getting a good education. In the long run, this will be good for you. A chance to make new friends who understand what you're going through, teachers who understand what you're dealing with, and training that ensures you'll be ready for it. Not to mention, it's far more secure in case someone does try to follow you home or attack you when you're resting." "Well..." "And I'm sure there are plenty of girls your own age who'll be happy to meet the new Beacon, dressed in ways that seem absolutely scandalous to someone my age..." "That's exploitative and insulting to my inte- let me go get my bags, old man." Signing in with the security desk inside the tower, John is quickly processed and directed inside. "You just need to find the administration office, they've got your paperwork already, they just need you to pick up your things and get assigned a room for the semester." "Alright, thanks for the help!" Bag tucked under one arm, he practically bounces out of the room, into the main quad, smiling brightly and breathing deep as he takes in the campus itself... "So... This is it, huh? I don't hate it..."
  6. 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.
  7. It was a solemn affair that was filling up Freedom Hall today, filled with the sort of mixed crowd that only a Freedom City gathering would engender. And this gathering was unusual even for Freedom City. There were a few Golden Agers left but those that were able to, were in attendance. Ace Danger, the newly redeemed Bombshell among others. Then there were also the heroes whose legacies stretched back to the era of the war who were here with relatives or on the behalf of relatives. Today, they celebrated the life time achievement on one of the Golden Age heroes on his hundredth birthday, the charming Spaniard El Fuego also known as Don Leon Montoya de Castille. Now, long since retired and with great grand children. Still the super-science that gave him his amazing abilities had helped preserve his body so he looked a remarkably fit seventy or so. Bombshell, aka Natalya Browning, like many of the veterans was in her dress uniform rather than black tie or costume. She wore the navy blues under a silver sash that stretched from her right shoulder down to her left hip, with several medals adorning the breast of the uniform. It wasn't about showing off. Actually, for the few who were able to read the blonde's body language under her careful facade, she was slightly uncomfortable in the outfit at this point in her life. However, showing up in anything less would have been disrespectful to a man she'd fought alongside so many years ago. The ceremony wasn't overly long and was much more informal than the appearance would suggest, with the old guard that remained going up to volunteer anecdotes and stories. In short order, the speeches were wrapped up and there was simply mingling and some dancing. The music, of course, was to the taste of the guest of honor, as after all - it was the celebration of his life.
  8. Mark Lucas was a lucky young man and well used to winning assorted contests but this was quite the prize, A day with Ace Danger. He arrived right on time traffic being surprisingly light, as he stepped from the cab a gorgeous blond called out, "Hold the cab." as she emerged from the main entry of One Pyramid Plaza, and hurried down the steps to slide gracefully into the back seat, "Thanks tiger." She said and blew the lucky young man a kiss. *** Upstairs Ace didn't know where it had all gone wrong. Well to be honest he knew it had gone wrong the instant he had invited Talya up for a nightcap, he really only had himself to blame for his current predicament. She had come to him though, and with information on a job she had turned down, hope springs eternal he supposed but she was unlikely to ever fully reform. The bonds were of course quite well tied, she was a professional after all. Not the best conditions under which to meet the scion of house Lucas but the boy was undoubtedly on his way. 'Well,' Thought Ace 'there could certainly be worse winners of that damnable Day with Ace Danger contest, given the circumstances.'
  9. "Good morning. Freedom City. Thank you for tuning in to WXAD Channel 5 News At Noon. I'm Charles Maxfield, filling in for Summer Gleason. Our top story today: Defense Secretary Robert Gates has yet to comment on the mysterious extraterrestrial attack on America's heartland a scant twenty-four hours ago. Sources say that no telescopes or satellites picked up any aircraft, alien or otherwise, in the vicinity, and no parties have yet come forward to claim responsibility for the energy beam which shot down from the sky and carved its way across a hundred miles of Nebraska farmland. Our- Excuse me. We have just received words of an emergency here in Freedom City..." Whatever its origin, 24 hours later, at 12:00pm exactly, the skies darkened around Freedom City as a 600ft-diameter cylinder of white-hot fire poured down from the sky, blasting a crater in the Wharton State Forest. The beam persisted, carving a trench as it raced along the ground toward the ocean. And in its path stands Freedom City. "Mayday, mayday, this is Captain Aaron Crichton, Flight 89 from Los Angeles to Newark! We just saw a bright flash of light, and whatever it was sheared off most of a wing! We are going down! Repeat, we are going down! And unless we get a miracle, we're going down in the middle of Freedom City!"
  10. 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.
  11. Mark was gone from school for over a week after his father's disappearance, only occasionally emailing Erin or Chris to let them know he was all right. They were the friend who'd been there when his life had gone to Hell, after all, even if the absence of the others hadn't been their fault. So when he finally stepped back on campus in early June, just a week or so before Chris and James were due to graduate, he skipped his own room and headed upstairs to check on Erin and see if she was in. He was surprised to hear Alex's voice as he knocked on the door, but supposed it was good they were all there. He needed friends today, now, more than ever.
  12. 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.
  13. Flashes of ionic energy propelled the young heroes to an all-too-familiar place; the spots on the sidewalk where they'd watched Mark Lucas die just a few hours earlier. If time itself hadn't changed, that is. The Lucas house was a quiet, peaceful place in an idyllic neighborhood, just as it had always been in the real world for the heroes who'd visited there. An unfamiliar old man, looking as old as Trevor's grandfather in the real world, clad in a sweater-vest and bow-tie was trimming the hedges of the house next door, humming an amiable tune as he worked. There was no sign of the horrific events that had happened in this place earlier today, but of all the places in Freedom City, why would there be?
  14. So this is Claremont. Thought Aiko as she looked at the turn of the last century style buildings. This is where I start the next step in reclaiming myself. The blue haired gynoid made sure her bags weren't slipping and started forward. Maybe I should see if I can meet someone and manage to socialize a little before seeing Mr. Summers.
  15. A wall of black, whirling dots of ink exploded over everything, battering through James' dimensional barrier an instant after sweeping away the whole world around it. And then... - James Prophet woke up to the gentle beeping of his compu-alarm, the whirring of his electro-bed a gentle reminder of the very pleasant way he'd fallen asleep. He sat up wearily, listening to the hum of the stabilizers that kept his flying saucer in orbit of Earth. Rising to his feet, he caught sight of his face in a reflective surface of polished metal and paused. Wasn't that right? He was Hell-Ion, the half-blooded son of the crown prince of Lucifer-1, the biggest planet in the Antares system whose inhabitants had evolved red skin and ionic-wielding powers to protect themselves from the sun's red radiation. But he'd sided with his mother's people, not his father's, and become the guardian of the planet he'd once hoped to invade. Was that right? No. No, because when he looked in the mirror, he saw who he was. He was James Prophet, prince of Hell. This other life was patchy, with elements of his backstory hard to recall exactly, as if no one had ever bothered to write the story down completely, but he could remember his lives enough to know which one was real. - "Raven." Chris Kenzie woke up in a sitting position, peering through his mask at a very familiar face. His adopted father, Duncan Summers, was looking down at him with one of his characteristic indulgent smiles. "You fell asleep in costume again." Poking him lightly with his cane, he said, "Get upstairs and get some breakfast before your mother has my hide." The laughing acrobat was soon on his feet, running up the steps of the Ravencave to join his adopted mother, Jasmine Summers, for a hearty bacon and eggs breakfast. It was over breakfast, sitting with his new family and laughing and talking, that he caught sight of his face in one of Jasmine's highly polished plates. And the new life suddenly half-melted, as fast as it had come. He could remember patches; his adoption, his home, his family with Duncan and Jasmine, but other things were less sure, as if they'd been changed in an awfully fast hurry. He was Chris Kenzie, Geckoman, and he remembered that much with perfect clarity. - Erin fell thirty feet, landing on her feet in a lush, luxurious lawn. Coming to her senses, she realized she was standing beside the old Freedom Hall, the massive old mansion that had stood there before the Terminus Invasion and had once been the headquarters of the Freedom League. The sound of traffic was loud in her ears. Peering through the giant hedge between her and the street, she saw a scene like something out of an old movie; classic cars, men in suits, and women in needleskirts and pillbox hats that reminded her of pictures of Jackie Kennedy. But she hadn't traveled in time, she saw, not when she saw a young man walking along and listening to his iPod. The last thing she remembered was the end of everything. - Trevor Hunter woke up with a feeling of great loss, the way he always did on the anniversary of his parents' deaths. But Travis was there to comfort and steady him, as always, the greying-haired champion of justice a rock as they carried flowers to the graves of Ted Hunter and Janet Pryce-Hunter. Behind them was Margery, his grandfather's never-failing secretary, who'd stayed young and vital as long as Travis had thanks to their infusions of the Infinity Formula Midnight had taken from Wilhelm Kantor. It was raining just a little, enough that the smooth, polished marble reflected Trevor's face back at him as he and his grandfather recited the oath they'd taken to avenge any unjust killings like those that had taken his father and Travis' son. And it was then he remembered that his parents were alive. They'd abandoned him for Paris, left him in the care of an old man who lived alone, his favorite secretary long since dead. Patchy as the false life was, he could remember details of it, but there was no doubt in his mind about which story was which. He was Midnight II...but not this Midnight II. - Eve woke up as her cousin threw a pillow at her face. "Eeeeve! Wake up! Wake up you silly sleepyhead!" Faith gave her a big raspberry. "You'll be late for your recital!" "Fine, fine," grumbled Eve, who'd never been a morning person. She slid out of bed, headed for the bathroom, and started brushing her teeth. She looked in the mirror, saw the toothbrush blocking her mouth, and remembered. She was the hottest teen musician in Freedom City, she was a powerful psychic teen hero, she had a cute boyfriend with a nice smile. But that was a lie, wasn't it? She was Sage, and she remembered everything.
  16. Darksider42

    New Sound

    Warren took a deep breath as soon as he stepped through the gates of Claremont Academy, his suitcase on one hand and his guitar case in the other. New school, new problems and hopefully some new friends if Warren was feeling lucky enough. He really had no idea what to expect from this place, but he was not going to start letting doubting his decision. And now the question remains...Where do I go? He though as he rolled his shoulders. Tension did that to a person.
  17. It was a quiet Memorial Day weekend around Freedom City, one quiet enough that many of Freedom City's superheroes (including its teenage contingent) went out of town to visit their families over the weekend, or go elsewhere with their families to enjoy the long weekend. Claremont Academy was hosting a barbecue for the kids who had no place to go, but there were plenty of other things to do in and around campus. Until, that is, the emergency alert went off: it rang first for the members of Young Freedom, jangling through the communicators they all carried, but then it began beeping frantically all across campus. This was a school emergency, requiring the attention of many of the teenage heroes at Claremont who weren't affiliated with Young Freedom. The Freedom Leaguer Siren had been visiting campus for the holiday, perhaps to visit her old friend Duncan Summers, and she quickly took charge of the emergency. "Everyone who can help, follow me! If you can't get yourself quickly, find a teleporter, flier, or speedster, and follow the distress call." She took out her League transponder and fiddled with it quickly, her scientist's fingers moving fast over the hand-sized piece of high technology. "If you have to get there on your own, use League coordinates 08401-08406. That'll put you in Ashton, right at...oh, by the loa, it's Rick Lucas' house." Siren had been on the old Freedom League; the ageless beauty had been there since the 1960s. She knew Rick Lucas, the former mascot-cum-junior member of the Silver Age League, and of course his son, Claremont student Mark Lucas, very well indeed. "Quickly now!"
  18. With the rumble of a well tuned engine, a black motorcycle pulled up to Claremont Academy's main entrance. Of a noticeably older design, the bike's surfaces still gleamed thanks to studious maintenance. As it came to a stop, its rider, dressed in dark jeans and a protective jacket, swung a long leg over to dismount. Tossing his leather gloves into a saddlebag, he removed his helmet to reveal a young man with black hair a little too long to be well kempt and angular features that emphasized the lankiness of his frame. Clipping the helmet to a strap on the bike, he swung his dusty brown knapsack from his back to retrieve a beaten fedora, which he deftly flipped onto his head before taking stock of his surroundings. As it was the first day of spring break, Trevor Hunter assumed there wouldn't be too many people around, allowing him to move into his dormitory with a minimum of fanfare. The rest of his things would be arriving from his grandfather's manor later that day, but he'd decided to go on ahead to make sure all of his registration was in order and to take a look around. Although he'd been invited to attend Claremont weeks ago, it was not until now that the seventeen year old had gotten a chance to visit the campus. Hitching his pack over one shoulder, he dug a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and tried to follow the directions on it to the main office.
  19. James was tired of all this cold and snow. He liked warm weather. And there were certain fun activities associated with winter; it still wasn’t his favorite time of the year. It got dreary too. Wore on people too. He’d had enough of it. He couldn’t change the seasons, but he could certainly make some minor adjustments. And now that he had some good friends who’d enjoy the change, he’d make it happen. A rather nice, if small, resort outside of the city was in their slow period. They were more than willing to rent the entire facility to James. A few dozen bungalows, a large pool, a volleyball court. Perfect place for a party of a couple hundred people easy. Saturday and Sunday would be pretty crowded. Not that there would be that many at first of course. Friday was just for a smaller group. Those who knew about their powers mainly, or at least those would wouldn’t reveal anything. Some would be heroes, others not. Well, the others that is. James didn’t really have a secret life given the Family name. James had showed up early on Friday. It took a little while for the snow to melt, the water in the pool to warm up nicely and the ground to dry. It was just like afternoon in the middle of summer, within the confines of the little resort anyway.
  20. Easter break meant a quiet campus around Claremont Academy, though by no means an empty one given the large number of kids who lived in the city or who didn't have a good home to which to commute for the holidays. But fortunately Duncan Summers always had a project in mind for the kids, though it wasn't always one they liked. Still, extra credit was extra credit, not to mention their civic duty. Between the goody-two-shoes, the kids looking to pass their next test, and the small detention crowd, there were a surprising number of Claremont kids waiting around in the science lab when Mark arrived. Looking around at the small crowd, he gave a cheerful, though somewhat diffident hello, before looking around for his friends.
  21. Some sort of mix up (which a good half of Young Freedom blamed Next Gen's antics for), led to their time in the training room being taken up. With some grumbling, they'd headed out to the quad for team manuevers instead. Thus, they were arrayed on the field debating the merits of touch football versus capture the flag for training time. After some debate, capture the flag was decided on. With the gold team comprised of Hellion, Psyche, Wander, and Edge on the gold team and Zephyr, Breakdown, Phalanx, and Geckoman on the blue team. Each one went off to hide their flag to the best of their ability and discuss tactics. As usual, Mark had left the rules confined to 'good sportsmanship' so really, anything went. Psyche trailed after the other three after they'd hidden their flag, leaving it up to Mark to plot out the strategy while she scanned the quad for the other half of the team's and their scrap of blue.
  22. Late one crisp Friday in January, the various members of Young Freedom sat around the conference table in their headquarters and listened to the Star of Africa. Edet Chereno was the only Claremont student from Dakana, the richest nation in sub-Saharan Africa, and as he spoke with his faint English accent the daka crystals embedded in his red-tinted body glistened in the light of the overhead lamps. "The White Lion has disappeared." He looked from one to the other of the students there before looking back at Mark, the Young Freedom member who knew the African student best. "The great African hero," Mark murmured. "The King of Dakana. He's a friend of my family too," he added before letting the Star continue. Even Mark looked worried for this one, or at least as worried as Mark ever got. "He was returning from a conference in South Africa, along with the Prime Minister and the Queen, when his plane disappeared completely from Dakanan radar. Two follow-up missions have failed to find him; indeed, one of the rescue missions has now disappeared." Edet swallowed hard. "My country is at peace, but we have many enemies. The other nations tell mad stories about us, that we harbor a secret cure for cancer that is only for the elite, that a king keeps a monster chained up in the mountains, that our wealth comes from trade with the Grue." He rubbed one of the crystals in his skin and said quietly. "We cannot win a war against all our neighbors while at the same time choosing a new king. Even a victory would mean the death of tens of thousands." "And you came to us because teenage American heroes going to Africa will attract less attention than the Freedom League?" Mark had actually not wondered about that question at all; Edet had come to them because they were superheroes, naturally. But Edet had explained it when he'd first approached Edge, and so Mark had decided to bring it up himself. "Yes," agreed Edet. "Even the news of the king's disappearance would be a disaster. We must do all we can to prevent that. And...because it will allow me to come with you," he added. "I would not see my mentor, my patron suffer and be unable to come to his aid. Please, help," he asked them. "Before my homeland falls into a war that none shall win."
  23. Between the holidays and their assorted adventures much of the time Young Freedom usually devoted to training had fallen by the wayside. At least that was the explanation Psyche had given when suggesting Edge arrange for this session. Thus Wander, Psyche, Phalanx and Edge found themselves completing the warm-up routines in the Caldwell Manors own Simulated Tactics and Advanced Training System. Having completed his warm ups and solo exercises Phalanx hovered near the entrance to the S.T.A.T.S. room watching as the others completed their own simulations.
  24. It was a gloomy day near the end of November when Mark decided to call Taylor Chun, having spent a long day at home in his father's study reading up on the City of Brass. Amid all the horrors and wonders of the demonic invasion earlier in the month, those taunting words from the demon in the graveyard had stuck with him. He knew perfectly well what the City of Brass was, of course, he'd been raised on stories of the place for much of his life. Azim-al-Aziz, his grandfather's friend and ally during the Second World War, had been a prince of the City of Brass, an efreet kidnapped by Nazi sorcery and held in their clutches before being rescued by the Liberty League. It was supposed to be a wonderful, magical place where the Arabian Nights had never ended, a place where a thousand wonders lay just beyond the veil. But he'd never visited there himself; his grandfather had passed on a warning that with the end of the Second World War, Azim-al-Aziz had encouraged his people to seal up their dimension to make sure they could never be taken against their will again. That also meant they didn't visit Earth much anymore. With the issue still nagging at him as he sat in his dorm room, Mark had decided to phone a friend. That's what friends were for, wasn't it? As his cell rang, the rain outside stopped. Maybe today was going to be a good day after all.
  25. Between one thing and another, it was a very busy November for every Claremont student. It wasn't until the third week of November that Mark Lucas finally made it out shopping with his mother, buying a present for a friend who'd had an especially hard time of it that November. He headed for Erin's room on the evening of the 21st, taking advantage of the warm Saturday, a big box under his arm that hardly smelled of the herb-stuffed and scented pillow he'd bought in the city's art district. It had the promise of a good day...or so he hoped, anyway. Between one thing and another, things had been...unsettling for the scion of the house of Lucas. Erin, despite everything, was one person who he could count on to be herself.
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