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Found 1,376 results

  1. GM April 23rd, 2019 Mid Afternoon... On a rather pleasant Spring day. The air was warm, the sun was bright, and the mood was reasonably pleasant. Agent Brock was in a good mood too. Largely because he was high on caffeine. Agent Brock was a short, squat man who looked like a thug, rather than a highly trained field agent of W.E.S.T. A Russian by origin, he was an expert on Artificial Intelligence. He sat in a t shirt and heans, supping his latte, in a rather expensive looking sports car, waiting for Replica. He was certainly one for the cassual, undercover lok, was Agent Brock. Even if he had a W.E.S.T. scanner and blaster in his glove compartment. Earlier on in the day, Replica had recieved an encrypted e mail from W.E.S.T. It came with no password, and was a devil to crack. But that was kind of the point. Director North knew very well that Replica was one of the few people who could crack it. Assistance Request! Replica, W.E.S.T. Is always grateful for your expertise, as you know. From that business with Darwin X, to the Russian mystery, and even that mess with the glass woman, you have always been a major asset in our mission. Thanks again. We would be most grateful if you could help us once more. Something seems to have gone wrong with a a medical AI project. Significant breakthroughs were reported, then significant glitches, and now four of the cheif develepors have gone missing. The FC police are investigating, but you can understand we are concerned that something else if going on. I say this delicately, but Artificial Intelligence is a potential threat - of course, we support its development as it is also a wonderful thing, but when incidents like this occur, we get concerned. Especially as we never quite got to the bottom of "the Russian problem". We have assigned Agent Brock to the case, and he has made some preliminary investigations. If you can make contact with him we would be, as always, grateful...
  2. Cubismo

    Nostalgia Trip

    GM Claremont Academy April 23 2019 11: 45 AM Jhett yawned. He knew he should have at least tried to keep it in but at this point he really couldn't be bothered. He was bored even as he guided his group to the next exhibit in the school's refurnished Next-Gen wing and started reciting another pre-written lecture about the triumphs of the original team. "Right, so, over here we have a new holographic recreation of Next-Gen's first battle with the villain Chess Club. What a wonderful--" Jhett stopped for a second to lazily take garner at one of the cue cards tucked in his pocket. His other hand still pointed to a holographic Sonic destroying a holographic chessmen. "Example of the ingenuity and resolve of young heroes like us. I sure hope I can live to their noble example." The less than impressed expressions on about dozen of his classmate's faces made it blindingly clear to him that they were either as bored as he was or very unhappy with his lack of typical tour guide enthusiasm. Jhett told himself that he didn't care either way. His volunteering to be the guide for Claremont's glorified trophy room for the first Next-Gen team was just his way of getting another good looking bullet-point on his resume when he finally graduated from Claremont and tried to get into a normal, if hopefully very prestigious, tech university. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little bad for boring his fellow students. It wasn't as if they had a lot of choice in being here after all. Exasperated with himself and the tour, Jhett finally threw up his hands. "Look guys, I know this isn't the Danger Institute or Freedom Hall or whatever, but we got to get through this, OK?" He admitted honestly. "Headmistress Summers expects me to lecture you all until lunch about all the new stuff they added here since the Krampus trashed it last year and I sure as Hell don't want to disappoint her... She's kind of scary." There were a quite few snickers and eye-rolls from the crowd after that outburst but Jhett took them in apathetic stride. He'd probably be doing the same if he was on the other side of this. "You know what? Talk among yourselves while I waste fifteen minutes of everyone's time. I don't give a damn and only need you physically in the room. Just don't tell Summers or any of the faculty, alright?" The sound of teenagers suddenly breaking out into several dissonant conversations was all the Jhett the assurance needed that he was probably in the clear. Jhett signed as he moved the loud group to the next exhibit on their list. It was times like these when he prayed that another Krampus would show up and save him from the tedium. Anything was better than this.
  3. Claremont Quad-ish, 3:20PM, April 22nd. This was not planned, but with graduation coming for her she felt a need of closure. Some people she wasn't really possessed of an impetus to correct, insert obvious examples here, obviously. So as she left her class of the day, and seeing Monica on the quad she decided it might as well be now. So she pushed open the door, shoulders her backpack, and leaped out. She hated her powers, the implications of them. What she did, could do, if control slipped. But as they were an option, she took them. They were there, so close to the surface, so easy after all. She soared in a grace leap, as if she could do any other at this point due to muscle memory. She landed on the air, and kept up the jogged, going to circumvent the other teen's path, before she descended enough to drop down in a sudden rush of air, in a crouch. Brushing back that asymmetrical swoop of her hair,, she rose to standing in front of her, and offered a slightly uneasy smile, "So... can we talk?"
  4. Nick

    Cocoa and Company

    Claremont Academy, Room 301 Just after the Krampus Incident "We might have some," Abigail answered Elizabeth as they both stepped clear of the portal in their dorm room. "We can always go out and get more, if we need to." The young mage dismissed her portal with a flick of her hand and hopped up onto her bed, sitting cross-legged in its center. Her eyes unfocused for a moment and her Arcana regalia began to unmake itself and reform into a more sensible slipping off of school grounds after a protracted fight while everyone else is stuck cleaning up afterwards outfit. She was also very much trying to not stare at her roommate who was suddenly very distracting and Abigail didn't understand how, or what, or why that was or what it meant. Instead she just felt her face heating and she kept her eyes down, which in the small room meant she was watching her roommate's legs.
  5. April 20th, 10.25AM, 2019 The paths around Lake Mackenzie The sun streamed down through the trees, its light glinted across the silver-blue surface of the lake. The air was fragrant with flowers, the rich scent of warm earth, and the far-off food carts. Birds sang in the trees, boats plying the lake roared or burbled or splashed, depending how they were being pushed, and the park was thick with barking dogs, yelling children and dancing cherry blossoms. On the far side of the lake and muffled by ancient trees, a fairground had sprung up like a pale echo of Port Regal's Ocean Heights Amusement Park. "Amazing," Leroy stared wide-eyed from his and Judy's vantage point up the hill, hugging her a little closer as he looked down at the scene, "playing on the surface like this...nobody without a dragon would risk it back home." He smiled at Judy "You are a brave people, Dee!" For the hike Leroy had worn the plainest clothes he had, a short olive-green tunic with black piping and the minutest little golden embroidered foxgloves at the neck, and short grey trousers with generous pockets. The thicker sandals laced up his calves looked like they had never once been used. For Pulse the air tingled with the shuddering waves of electromagnetic energy. Phones, satellite dishes, radio antennae, a raging sea of information and raw power blistered the air. ------------------------------------------------------------------- They had started the hike an hour or two ago, Leroy largely drawn by a performance his father's high-school orchestra was putting on that afternoon. "He will be absent and his pupils are magnificent," he had explained gleefully, reading from the pamphlet in the mail, "and walking to the lake would be lovely this time of year." He had turned over the pamphlet, regarding the elegant signature on the back. "Lavernius never sends me these. I wonder why he did this time. In any case, why not make a day of it? A little change of pace for us devoted scholars of heroism." -------------------------------------------------------------------- Leroy scanned the lake as they went further down. "Boats, the park, I believe that is a Carnivalé...so much to do! Where first?"
  6. April 13th, 11:30 AM It was a crisp New Jersey morning, and Adam was dressed for the part. He didn't enjoy the cold much. He could handle it, but he wasn't fond of it at all. He imagined Lulu would be less so. However, he wanted to get out and stretch his legs a bit, especially since they were close to Spring break. He hadn't been able to get out much, recently. He wore a jacket, jeans and long-sleeved shirt, along with his wig and false eyebrows. Like usual, he covered his entire body. He hated his scars and didn't want to be gawked at. At his height, that was already hard to avoid. "Shall we explore the mall a bit, first? Our show isn't until 12:30." He asked, smiling
  7. Mr Murk April 15th, 2018, Silvermans Books 9.57pm The Sun was down, and it was nearly closing time. Mr. Murk needed the sun to be down. And he would prefer it to be nearly closing time. Less people around. Wrapped in the Murk, he entered as a stiff gentleman of advanced years, in a tween jacket and thick glasses. He was blind, but he didn't need eyes to see in a book store. He could feel the sumptous wit of the ink around him, he could feel the souls of those in their, and all he had to do was avoid chairs. He went up to the counter, smiling pleasantly. The immortal soul of Grimalkin was there, and he could feel its taste, and taste its feel. "Good evening. I hope I do not intrude at this lateness of hour?" he asked, softly, voice dusty with age, with a mild American accent that spoke of New York and Europhillia. He had come on a mission that required his gentle touch. Grimalkin was an immortal, and should be offered the duties and benefits of the Codus Immortus!
  8. GM April 4th Rapa Nui, W.E.S.T Headquarters A light rain had greeted Dr North as the WEST plane landed. He was not in a good mood, and the tepid precipitation suited. Now he was in the reinforced WEST headquarters on Rapa Nui, affectionately known as EAST. There was the usual reports of threats across the globe on his desk. Most of these didn't pan out to anything serious, or needed only further management by the other local or world authorities. An Ebola outbreak in Africa. A mutated Crocodile in New Orleans. Metaphasic radiation in Freedom City. The normal. The major problem was the reappearance of Doctor Archeville. And the threat he may or may not pose. To Doctor Norris North's educated mind, Doctor Archeville was a net neutral. He could solve as many problems as he created. He could save as many lives as he created. He harboured no particular distrust of the man or the personality, or any particular warmth either. It was a situation that should be managed, and by his estimation that meant diplomacy and investigation. That meant W.E.S.T. The world was most keen for W.E.S.T. to keep a heavy eye on Doctor Archeville and his experiments. They wanted, as normal, the impossible. All he could do was meet them halfway. He felt, like normal, that he was playing an impossible game of chess with mysterious new pieces. In any case, he had requested Doctor Archeville meet him at EAST. He would have to size up the risks and benefits of the man. He hoped very very much it would be less of the former, more of the latter... But if there was a hazard, he was prepared. And he had asked Delta to be on site. In case they needed some heavy blasters...
  9. Date: April 1st, 2019. Noon-ish. Freedom Hall, the city-based headquarters of the city's -- if not the world's -- premiere superhero team, had received an unusual visitor. A man once welcome in those halls, who had worked and played alongside those esteemed heroes, was counted amongst their number... and then who fell, thoroughly and abruptly. He had retreated to seclusion for extended treatment, of both mind and body. Now, many years later, he had returned to Freedom, and was filling his former colleagues in on what he had been up to. Well, he hadn't gotten to his colleagues yet. Doktor Archeville was still in the ground floor reception area, talking with Cynthia, the League's not-quite-sentient robot receptionist. He was in disguise, as a German tourist (in socks & sandals, with a large backpack), asking mildly inane question vocally, but using his technopathic abilities to have a real conversation with her via radio. "... and it wasn't until I was certain that the Communion was gone from the system that I left that planet and returned here. Well, not here-here, but here, to Earth. I went back to therapy, and the therapist remarked how my time away seemed to have done me some good, so we started re-acclimating me to working with the public. Small steps at first, of course, working undercover as a handyman, posing as an apprentice who was being shown around by his mentor -- and supervisor. Eventually I did some work as a substitute teacher, again still in disguise, getting more exposure to working with groups, proving some guidance and mentorship to them." He sighed wistfully, "that felt very rewarding, and made me quite happy. And now I am here, back in Freedom, to touch base with folks, speak with those I had not spoken with since the... incident -- assuming they even will speak with me -- and admit the exact nature of my wrongs & attempt to make amends to them all. I know some may refuse, some may never forgive, but I must make sincere attempts at reconciliation."
  10. Tiffany Korta

    Mud Pack

    Headmistresses Office, Claremont The office of Headmistress Summers was quite a stark and bare affair, just a simple desk and a monitor, with no really nicks nacks to suggest the owner of the offices. The only real decoration in the room was a portrait of Duncan Summers, which had survived several destructions of the office. Rumour had it was that the picture was as indestructible as the former headmaster himself. Even with the starkness, it wasn’t a place you’d want to be summoned to without good reason. So for those of you summoned it was good to know that it was to meet the newest arrival to Claremont Academy...
  11. Date: April 1st, 2019. An hour or so after sundown. [GM Post] April Fools' Day. A day to play jokes, spring pranks, and spread hoaxes. A day where everything must be taken with a grain of salt, even in a place like Freedom City, where fantastic things happened with some regularity. But there are some things that even the citizens of Freedom would consider "unusual." Long-time residents of West Freedom know of Lantern Jack, the spectre that haunts Lantern Hill. Or, rather, haunted -- not a spark of his eerie lamplight has been seen for years. Some hope he had finally passed on to Heaven, others fear he had been dragged down to Hell, or banished to some Limbo. But now, an eerie, blue-green light -- similar to the one from his lamp -- shone again on Lantern Hill, slowly wandering about the graveyard. Was it Lantern Jack, back from... wherever he had been? Or was it something else?
  12. Heritage

    Body Doubles

    Silberman's Books. Wednesday, March 27th, 2019. 12:35 pm It started out as a bit of joke, really, until the idea began to take hold in Lynn Epstein's brain. Then the more she thought about it, the better and better it sounded. Surely there were lots of people in 'the biz' who could this kind of service. And it wasn't like they needed the money; heck, they could do it for free! No need to discriminate against struggling, up-and-coming heroes; it could really give them a leg up! So she sent a message to the one person she knew who currently fit the bill in Freedom. And who knows, maybe they could eventually add more? The changeling waited in her office, sipping mint tea as she waited for guest to arrive.
  13. Heritage

    Mending Fences

    Millennium Comics, West End location. Saturday, March 23, 2019. 12:35 pm It had been a while since Grimalkin had done a signing event of any kind, but when her favorite local comic book store asked if she was willing to partner them and the charity of her choice, how could she refuse? The usual table was set up near the back of the store, and the changeling's ego got a bit of a boost since the line snaked its way out the front door. In the near five years since she'd returned to Freedom, she'd done enough crimefighting and overall heroics to put herself back in the public consciousness after being gone for the three previous years. And she had always proudly maintained her roots in the eclectic West End, to the point that many people still considered her one of their own. It was the usual crowd: middle-aged fans who'd been following her since 2008 when she first made her appearance, die-hard Interceptors fans in their twenties who always asked when she was going to rejoin Jack's team (she was always diplomatic and did nothing but praise the current team line-up), and now the new wave of cosplayers and little girls in their homemade costumes. Thankfully her current fan base was a lot less 'pervy' than it used to be, a welcome change in the last few years that made it a lot easier to do this sort of thing. And it helped that every dollar generated went to Freedom's Warriors, one of her favorite charities that helped out disabled local vets. The next group was two simply adorable little girls in cosplay, herded up to the table by their mom, holding her cellphone in one hand. Lynn's heart simply melted as they rushed up and grabbed her by each hand. "Hi Gimalkin!" "Hi Grimalkin!" "Omigod, you're so cuuute! What are their names?" "Sasha and Felicity," offered their proud mom, hands shaking in shared excitement as she tried to focus her iPhone. "Well, Sasha and Felicity, let's do a cool action pose, okay?" "Yeah!" "Cool!" All three Grimalkins stood in front of the backdrop Grim had conjured up that morning, a photo-realistic depiction of a moonlit roof top, crouched forward together with their claws out and snarled for the camera. "Grrr!" "Rawr!" "Raaahhhh!"
  14. GM The West End March 6th, 11:00 PM The Seeker had been seeking. According to his contacts, someone had been making the rounds in world of organized crime in Freedom City, especially in West Freedom. Whoever it was had done a great job of staying under the radar of the police and heroes of Freedom City. After all, some lowlives going missing was hardly what would get the Freedom League to come running, but they were growing bolder. Perhaps it was because of their success. Perhaps they were simply moving up the food chain, or they wanted to make a statement. Whatever the cause, it was creating a measure on instability in the West End, and innocents could end up in the crossfire. As an added bonus, the culprit was rumored to have a connection to the Labyrinth. But, he was not an easy man to find. All the Seeker knew was that he was called the Talon. The Seeker had been following a lead to the West End. One of the Talon's potential safehouses, located in an apartment building just North of Greenbank, not far from the old railyards. Approaching from the outside, the building seemed unassuming. Some youths on the street. A man in a nice suit leaned against a wall, reading something on his phone. The groundfloor held a bar. The safehouse was supposed to be on the sixth floor of the eight story building.
  15. RocketLord

    Sky-Pirates!

    GM Secret Location in the Mojave Desert, Nevada March 26th, 1 PM Claremont Academy Field Trip to Danger Institute: Mojave Installation The field trip had been announced a bit suddenly, and for a rather varied group of students, spread out across the different squads: Zenith, White Lioness, Ms. Thursday, Gauss, Thunderbird, Salvo, Forever Boy and Veronica Danger, accompanied by their teacher Steph Harcourt. Why they had been the chosen students were anyone's guess, but they were promised it would be quite a treat. And of course, they would have to write an essay about the visit. It seemed that Headmistress Summers would temper any boon with a bane. But still! At first the group of students would get to on a field trip to the Danger Institute's Mojave Installation, hidden in the Mojave desert. The description of the place had been vague. The students had been told that it was a research station where Danger International studied unknown objects found across the world, kept safely away from any population centers in case any of the objects turned out to be dangerous. They would get a tour of the place, and potentially get to see some of the items of interest. As an added bonus, Headmistress Summers had pulled some strings, and the group of students found themselves arriving via teleporter pads, straight from the Freedom League. Quick and easy travel, and they wouldn't miss several days of classes to travel. That was bound to be quite an experience to the students that had not tried something like that before. As the students and Steph Harcourt appeared, they were met with a big cube of a building, 330 feet in each dimension.There were several square windows in different locations all around the building, placed seemingly randomly. As they appeared at the top of the building at the teleport pads on loan from the Freedom League, the students and the teacher could see a pair of helicopter landing pads, and a small cube with a set of doors that led into the building from the roof. At the ground level, two pairs of great doors were situated at equal spacing on each side of the building. The second thing that the students were met with were sand blowing absolutely everywhere. Not a pleasant experience, by all accounts. The third and last thing was a man with a red scarf tied over his mouth and nose, with thick goggles over his eyes. He was wearing khaki shorts and a dark grey t-shirt, and was shouting for them to get inside, leading the group to the entrance. "C'mon! The storm'll pass soon, but no reason to get caught up in it!"
  16. GM A high-rise apartment on 64th Street, overlooking Liberty Park March 15th, 8 PM Miss Tricia Thorne, head of the Thorne Foundation, socialite and all around rich woman had it all. She was young, she was beautiful, she was popular, and she was so very rich. And she was a good person, too! At only 20, she had started the Thorne Foundation after her parents died tragically in a skiing accident in Norway, using both her own money and donations to help whatever cause was most in at the moment, whatever would get her the most headlines and recognition for her effort to and attempts to help everyone! This evening, the beautiful young blonde, now just 25 years old, was hosting a gala for the rich and famous, with all proceeds from the evening going to aid the refugees of the Middle-East. It might not be the hottest and most in topic right now, but Tricia Thorne was bringing it back! And of course, she had informed all the media, from TV stations to bloggers, and even some of the people that still worked on those old newspapers and magazines! See, Tricia wanted to be inclusive of everyone! The gala was held in the 64th street apartment. Well, apartment was putting it lightly. It was quite a large place, with her owning several of the upper floors, including the huge ballroom at the very top floor. A multitude of round tables were placed around the room now, with an overly large see through trophy in the middle of the room. While it was slightly golden in color, it was clearly just made of glass. It was filled with money, mostly as a publicity stunt. A staircase led to the top of the trophy, where any of the rich and famous could walk up to throw their money in, which was of course just symbolic of their actual donations. Or so they said. Camera crews surrounded the area, which was by now filled with people. There was a slight lull in the festivities now that the main dish had been finished, while they waited for Miss Tricia Thorne, dressed in a beautiful black dress to symbolize her sorrow at the plight of the refugees, to make a speech. Well, once she finished talking with the handsome young man at her table. And one such guest from the media was one Buddy Brand.
  17. GM Bethlehem Heights, March 14th, 9:30 PM Bethlehem Heights might not be a rich area, or one where the police routinely patrolled, but it was still home to many. And in the last few weeks, there had been a rash of so far unexplained disappearances. The disappearances seemed focused on the undesirables of society: The homeless, the drunks, the addicts. The people of the street. Not enough to make city hall care enough to send the police for more than routine attempts at searching for the missing people. People were warned to stay off the streets in Bethlehem Heights during the night, but otherwise, little effort was put into finding the missing people, or even finding out what was going on. If anyone were to solve the mystery, it seemed that the heroes of Emerald City would have to step up. And as a man's scream cut through the night in Bethlehem Heights, they might soon get their chance.
  18. GM March 5th, 2019, 6.45AM Columbia River, between the Emerald Cities, USA The fog had been creeping in from the sea for hours now, until at last even Emerald Tower vanished. Silently, without fuss or hurry, the mountain of vapor muffled out the distant roar of the two cities, softening the world into a cold, wet blanket. The warning blasts of ships moving up and downriver blunted against the billowing clouds. The river itself had become dark and oily, lapping against the houseboat like gentle, insistent fingers trying to find a way in. The soft bump had gone almost unnoticed, but might have if not for the second, much stronger knock at the hull of the rocking house. With a ripple-less whisper, it emerged from the river. A slender creature, skin smooth and tough as a whale's, large eyes, fin-like fringes at the joints and crowing the head, webs between the fingers and toes suspending it above the water's surface with gentle, rhythmic strokes of its long limbs. "Mr. Kepler," it said in a soft, almost feminine voice, round eyes staring into his, "I am willing to pay several million dollars if you will represent my interests and meet with a dragon. Will you hear me out?"
  19. GM March 9th, late evening The sky was black, and it was raining. There might even be thunder and lightning later. It was that kind of smell in the air. Particularly on the rooftops. It might be raining more than rain, this night. A small gang of men held another man by his legs over the side of the building. It was a good thirty feet drop. He might survive, if he landed right. But being dropped head first was not the best way to land right. It was the best way to spray brains all over the pavement. "Please! Please!" he yelled, in a Japanese accent. The five men who were tormenting him looked thick and heavy set. Hard men, but not the brightest. "Give it up" demanded one of the thugs. "Where is he? You really want to die for him, you Yakuza scum? This city belongs to us, y'hear? Big Al and the Mob!" Perhaps he should not have been speaking so loudly. For Talon was prowling not far away!
  20. The Dive, University Hill, Emerald City South Saturday, March 2, 2019 11:03 PM As far as first dates were concerned, this one was going pretty well so far. The Dive had been the right choice of location. Relatively small and cozy, the bar was nested away in an alley only a short walk away form the more active nightclubs that up most of University Hill's nightlife. It was one of the insider tips when it came to places to go in the area. After all, how many bars offered regular live music? The band, some local up-and-coming indie country rock act just started their next song as Hakim returned to the table, drinks in hand. "And I'm back, sorry that took so long, they're a lot busier than usual tonight." He set down both the glasses, and then took the seat across the table from his date. Hakim hadn't been sure about the whole online dating thing. He'd heard mixed things in general, and he knew the tech aspect enough to know just how transparent it made him. But his colleagues-slash-friends had pushed him to finally do something beyond work and whatever he spent his free time doing, so he did sign up. So far, he wasn't regretting it. This Ishmael guy was pretty cute, and interesting too. A bit young, but it wasn't really something that stood out. "So, anyways, as I was saying, we ended up having to pull a nightshift inside the hospital in order to deal with…" There was a loud rumbling, seemingly coming out of the walls and wooden beams inside the bar, and Hakim stopped talking. It was replaced by the sound of glass shattering almost immediately, as the bottles by the bar literally flew off the shelves, and slammed into the wall across the room, which immediately provoked quite a bit of screaming. The band stopped playing, especially once they – and everybody else in the room – saw that the liquids inside the bottles had not splashed to the ground. They were floating in the air, like one could see in those space videos, gathering up into what Hakim decided to dub a "Floating Long Island Iced Tea.". Hakim looked pretty shocked, like everybody else in the room, especially once the table he and Ishmael were sitting on started to rumble, much like all the others in the room, and their respective drinks suddenly looked very stirred. And to make matters worse, judging by the screaming, this was happening outside too….
  21. March 17, 2019 Claremont Academy It was St. Patrick's Day, so naturally Judy had dressed for it; a green dress with white flowers that went below her knee, and a nervous, almost hesitant smile as she made her way to join her World Religions study group in the library. She greeted Danica, Pan Ayjay, hugging her book to herself before she said, "Um, Ashley said she can't make it today, so it's just us." She looked around at her study buddies and commented, "...so, Ah was thinking, that since we already know about Buddhism and stuff, and this is just review anyway, we could mostly just...you know, maybe do other stuff?" she asked hopefully. Judy struggled in some classes, and occasionally turned a bright, mortified red when particular subjects came up, but she'd always done quite well in World Religions.
  22. GM March 5th, Around Lunchtime And around Lunchtime, Marjorie Doors was most productive. For those dear readers who do not know Marjorie Doors, she was some kind of administrator in the Freedom City University, and a busy little body she was too (although not so little). Marjorie Doors lived alone and loved cats. And loved snooping and gossiping even more. Now, Ms Doors was not productive for most of the day. At least in a conventional sense. She was extremely productive at looking productive without actually being productive (a lamentably common position in most organisations). But around lunchtime she did her favourite productive thing which was offer out cookies to the students in return for gossip. "Would you believe it!" she told Robin, offering her a double choccy woccy chockity chock cookie with a side helping of choco-choc fudge sauce. (Yes indeed, Ms. Doors liked chocolate as well as cats. It would be a simple thing to get her on your side by simply offering her a chocolate cat). "Anna Armstrong! Poor thing! She had a seizure. In hospital now! They say she got sick whilst working for Neutron Industries! All sorts of nasty, they are...terrible safety record. The lawyers are pouncing around, trying to get her to litigate. So she should, I think! Disgusting place, Neutron Industries. I bet they have immigrants working there!" Ms. Doors didn't like immigrants. Immigrant cats might have been acceptable, but only just. Anna Armstrong was a PhD student in nuclear physics. A tall, lanky blonde girl of twenty two who was pretty smart. Robin vaguely knew her - a determined, intelligent woman who was generally well liked. She had gone to do some work for Neutron Industries, and came back quite sick.
  23. GM Union Rail Yards March 6th, 10:30 PM The shock had slowly settled, but the old security guard that had been patrolling the rail yards was still rattled by what he had seen. Even now, as his flashlight illuminated the victim, he was trembling. He had seen his fair share of bad in the twenty-something years that he had worked security here, but seeing a body still sent a shiver up his spine. And this particular body was not just some poor man lying with a lead in his gut. No, this one was a man, dressed in a nice suit, strung up on the side of one of the old, unused train cars. The thing was supposed to have been scrapped years ago, but it had just been pushed back. No rush, didn't cost them anything. The victim was hanging on the side of the train. His arms were stretched up, bound in heavy chains that went around the train, going under it where they were attached to his feet. His suit still looked nice, still looked fine, but blood had seeped into it from his wrists and ankles, where the bands on the chains had cut into his skin and flesh. The man's face was a massive bruise. He had been beaten to death, it seemed. But perhaps most stunning was the the five letters that had been painted across the train and the man, in bright pink. T A L O N. The security guard was quick to call it in to the police. The rumors of what had happened would spread quickly.
  24. GM Egyptian Airspace, 30 minutes from Cairo Friday, April 18, 2019 (1:20 PM local time) A Danger International private jet soared above the light cloud cover over northern Egypt as it entered its final approach toward Cairo. The sleek aircraft began a gradual descent as it continued on its flight path, transporting a rather unusual group of passengers to the ancient city. It had been several months since a group of Thule Society sorcerers accompanied by several enhanced SHADOW clones had attempted to steal an ancient Egyptian artifact during the opening of an exhibit at the Hunter Museum of Natural History. What the Thule Society had not accounted for was the presence of three Claremont students who had been able to halt the theft. But as the remaining Thule sorcerer had escaped, he had made a cryptic remark about artifact, suggesting that there it possessed some secret the teens were unaware of. Two of the teens, Veronica Danger and Elizabeth Grey, had been able to confirm that the artifact (the burial mask of the Pharaoh Sanakht) resonated with magic and that it was some sort of key. But despite their best efforts to research what that might mean, they still did not know exactly what it was a key to. So over the last few months Danger International, with some assistance from the Dakanan Royal family, had made arrangements with the Egyptian authorities to allow for an investigation of Sanakht's pyramid at the Saqqara necropolis. Permission had not been obtained until after the start of the new year, meaning Veronica, Elizabeth and Kam Kingdom had to wait until Claremont’s Spring Break to take the trip to Egypt. The interior of the jet was rather luxurious, with each of the teens having a large leather seat with plenty of room around them. The seats rotated so they could turn to face the middle and each other to more easily converse about the expedition they had set out on, or could turn out towards a small table next to each of seat (with connections for laptops and cellphones).
  25. GM Dreeda III, Lor Republic Nova-Lor City Lor time mark 1882.6 [February 14, 2019 (Terran Calendar)] During the incursion, the Lor colony on Dreeda III had been spared any direct effect of the fighting. But shortly after the incursion was over, it fell prey to a dozen super-powered criminals that had managed to escape confinement on a prison ship and size control over the vessel. The colony was rescued when a large force of Preatorians arrived in search of the escaped criminals. At the time, the planet was home to about forty thousand Lor. In the past few years, the colony had seen a massive influx of displaced beings from across the Republic and beyond. Entire cities have sprouted up on several continents, as well as the addition of at least two orbital ones. Now the world was home to over one billion sentients, though there were still large tracts of untouched wilderness across the planet, mixed with large areas of cultivated farmland. But along with the massive increase in population had come some of the problems associated with large populations. One such problem was the recent appearance of a number of Spectrum Knights operating in the system, which had brought a group of Praetorians back to the world to try to root out the threat. As the team of Praetorians had been investigating the Spectrum Knight activity on the world, they had received a communication that the Spectrum Knights were attacking a governmental facility in one of the new cities in the lower hemisphere. Boarding the Kavaca, the group had flow to Nova-Lor City, several columns of smoke rising into the air quickly pointing them toward the scene of the attack. Half a dozen Spectrum Knights, each in different colored armor, were still on sight, engaged in combat with Lor security forces which appeared to be having trouble dealing with the armored criminals.
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