Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'ic'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome to Freedom City
    • Campaign Discussion
    • Character Building
    • Character Bank
    • Freedom City News
  • The City of Freedom
    • Downtown Freedom
    • North Freedom
    • South Freedom
    • West Freedom
    • Other Areas Around Freedom
  • The World of Freedom
    • The Lands Beyond
    • The Worlds Beyond
    • The Realms Beyond
    • Non-Canon Tales
  • Out of Character Discussion
    • Off-Panel
    • Archives

Categories

  • Getting Started
    • Templates
    • About the Site
  • People of Freedom
    • Player Characters
    • Non-Player Characters
    • Super-Teams and Organizations
    • Reputations in Freedom
  • Places of Freedom
    • Freedom City Places
    • Earth Prime Places
    • Interstellar Places
    • Multiversal Places
  • History of Freedom
    • Events
    • Timelines
    • People
  • Objects of Freedom
    • Items
    • Ideas

Categories

  • Player Guide
  • House Rules
  • Sample Characters

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


Interests

  1. April

    Act of Union

    14 February 2016, 9:00 AM Bishop Hall, Ottawa, Canada It was an early Sunday morning and outside Bishop Hall, the public facing headquarters of the Canadian superteam True North, the usual collection of reporters and photographers were already present. The general expectation was that it would be a slow news day though some press veterans knew the holidays always held that slight chance of weird. "Pardon," came a soft French-accented soprano. The owner of that voice was a short costumed woman wearing a mask and hood, a knapsack slung over one shoulder. Instinctively the press corps moved out of La Renarde Bleue's way as she approached the building ahead.
  2. GM post Sunday, February 28th 2016 10:30 AM Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship, Private Apartments "It is still early for a Sunday Ma'am." the personal assistant suggested quietly, the protest fell however on deaf ears. "Marjorie, If this was not time sensitive I wouldn't be bothering the poor woman." came the reply clipped but not cold, "Besides they have children and I have raised enough of those to know late mornings are likely the least of their concerns." She added a bit more warmly, "Make the call please." Thus on the crisp february morning the phone in the apartment housing the ever growing Espadas family began to ring. The number was blocked, and at a very high level though expertise such as the household AI like as not could break it in short order and reveal the call as originating from Danger Internationals sprawling Hannover Campus. When the phone was answered Marjorie spoke in a bright and clear tone, "Good morning, I'm trying to reach a Ms. Rebecka Danvers." she requested politely, "Is she available?"
  3. Saturday, February 6th, 2016 An email appeared in Robin's school inbox earlier that week.
  4. Freedom City Credit Union, Wading Way Branch 11:00 AM, 1st February 2016 The day started off innocently enough for the cozy FCCU branch. The clerks were looking forward to their respective lunch breaks when a pair of unmarked black vans pulled up. Before anyone even took particular notice, eight men armed with black masks and assault rifles barged in. Four of them began shouting for clerks and patrons alike to get on the ground, two began making their way to the vault, and two got to work systematically shooting out security cameras. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. The clerks couldn't even manage to pull the alarm before being stopped at gunpoint...
  5. GM February 12th, Friday, 2016 Summit Transnational building, meeting room 5, floor 10, Wading Way, Freedom City As far as company reps went, the people sent by ailing power and research firm Redshift Energy of Washington weren't much to inspire confidence. Mostly either noticeably young new blood still uncomfortable in their stiff shirts, or old company men who had the tired, rumpled look of somebody going through the motions until retirement, they filled the meeting room with a nervous atmosphere. Meanwhile, quite at his ease, a African-American man in his late twenties had already taken his seat and was quickly reading over a briefcase full of papers crammed with atomic formulae. One of his associates had to quickly nudge him in the shoulder to alert him the entrance of their host at Summit Transnational, Amir ibn Jafar ibn Abd al-Aziz al-Misri. With a hurried, apologetic and distracted smile, the man stood up and joined the other reps. An older man stepped up, offering his pale, soft hand to the imposing philanthropist. "Er, Michael Monday, Mr. Misri, of Redshift Energy. Glad you could meet us, it's a wonderful opportunity for both of our companies." All the Redshift people tried to look like they agreed, the young man with the briefcase looking entirely, naturally confident in contrast. Outside, the city was frosted with snow and clinging ice, but in the conference room the pale sunlight mingled with the warm florescents to cast a strangely tranquil TV-like colour over the walls and long table. Very thoughtfully, someone had put coffee and pastries around, so everyone could be even more jittery than they already were.
  6. Equivalent to October, 2015, in Terran cycles. Outpost P-32, Ledas System, on Ledas 4. This place was a frigid waste. Not that they would go out among the ammonia shoals among the dark skies, and ever present snows. It was toxic to most, and even if it wasn't it was way, way too cold to be there. Still this place had minerals that were useful, and it was a good place to hole up a research station. The outpost was nice, or nicer than the places they frequented, and there was enough facilities for them to take care of things, little repairs and such that built up. Plus a couple nice watering holes, including some places that Roulette could duck off to, to place some games, and swindle some people. Bliss hated the cold. Her homeworld was far more warm, though while she wasn't mammalian, she was assuredly endothermic. So that accounted for something. Still, she was the strongest of the Runners, and so she relented to leaving her room and helping Ruby get supplies. Plus, sometimes they got discounts if she was glaring. When in her enviro suit she looked a bit more intimidating. Which they were benefiting from, with the Xuli'pan was off to the side, waiting while Ruby did... something... She didn't know. They were in one of the trader stations here in the outpost. With their crates of the supplies that would be here, the rest would be delivered after they got back to the station. Bliss was propped against the wall, staring through one of the porthole style windows that aimed towards the main concourse of the outpost.
  7. Friday January 22, 2016 Greenbank, Freedom City Nighttime It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an off-duty superhero in search of pizza will inevitably encounter something that renders the acquisition of pizza highly unlikely. Buffy Stein had just run out to grab a quick slice from the pizza joint around the corner, wanting a little fuel to get her through her late-night cramming session. She had even had her hand on the door when she overheard the police scanner in a nearby parked patrol car. Apparently something had triggered the silent alarm at a warehouse over in Greenbank. That wasn't exactly enough to make the cops peel out, sirens blaring, so why should she, innocent civilian, bestir herself? Surely no one would expect her to abandon her pizza, abort her studying, don her costume, and sprint clear across the city just because some raccoon accidentally tripped an alarm or something, right? This was what Echo was bitterly reflecting on as the crouched there on the edge of the rooftop in the freezing cold, staring gloomily at the shadowy bulk of the warehouse across the street. Sometimes, it just wasn't fun being a superhero. She was going to have to make some modifications to her costume, that was for sure. Heroes of the super variety weren't exactly renowned for their subtlety, but she couldn't help feeling conspicuous there in her blue-and-silver bodysuit. Those colors didn't exactly fade into the darkness as well as one might hope. Not to mention, she needed to install some thermal padding, or get some new long underwear or something. If didn't wrap this up quickly, all they would ever find of her would be a big Echo-shaped popsicle. And all because of a false alarm at some random warehouse. You didn't get a statue for that. Huh. She noticed something that made her perk up slightly. The warehouse was enclosed by a high chain link fence topped with barbed wire, presumably to keep the contents from escaping. Thing was, she was pretty sure the gate was supposed to be closed. With a whumph of displaced air, she was gone from the rooftop, now standing beside the open gate. The chain that ordinarily held the gates shut was lying on the ground. Kneeling down to examine it, she saw that it had been cut. Maybe the night watchman forgot his keys. And remembered his bolt cutters. Looking up, she saw an white van parked inside the fence. She had ignored it before, but now she saw that the plates had been removed and the engine was running. And one of the nearby doors that led into the warehouse looked to have been forced open. Well, hey. This might not be a waste of time after all.
  8. AEON Institute, Downtown Freedom 10:30 AM February 3rd 2016 Though the late January blizzard had for a time dampened the fervor of the ongoing 'Humans First' protests outside the Aeon Institute with the city emerging from it's blanket of snow they had returned with renewed spite for all the institute and it's 'Terminus Spawn' CEO. AEON security maintained a safety corridor for those seeking AEONs services but beyond the barricades the protesters had grown ten deep chanting and waving their signs proclaiming humanities preeminence over the earth and unkind variations on 'Go Home Freaks!' and worse. Pictures of the mangled bodies from the last Terminus Invasion as well as some few victims of recent super violence often attributed to those afflicted with Terminus Energy Mutation Syndrome were shaken in the faces of executive and frightened petitioner alike while slurs and occasional threats were lobbed at those making their way to the main entrance of the Institute. Thus far violence had been avoided thanks in large part to the restraint of the well trained security team deployed along the barricade and the help of the FCPD who were quick to remove any protesters who crossed the line from peaceful protest. None the less the air was electric with the tension and for those with insight into such things it was clear the situation was unsustainable without something snapping soon. The young group from Claremont made their way to the cordon where a security agent and a well bundled receptionist took down their names before beginning to escort them down the gauntlet of hateful people and their signs. The youth of these particular petitioners it seemed inflamed the protesting crowd yet further with the screams of "Freak!", "Devil Spawn!", and worse rising over the general din as the protesters pressed angrily against the barrier despite the nearby securities warnings to back away.
  9. Date: January 25, 2016 It wasn't until after winter break that Raina could round up a small cluster of fellow students to come along to extra curricular training. On the bright side, it meant she'd had several weeks of one on one classes to be confident with both the workings of the school and the general format of the training. Always nice to be the expert in the group, after all. With a large enough group, Claremont sent the teenagers to their extra credit activity in one of the few vans for such purposes rather than letting the students make their own way. The unmarked school van pulled up to let the students unload directly in front of a well kept building in the middle of the West End. A sign proclaimed 'The Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship!' (Exclamation mark included), and through the front doors was a small lobby and receptionist desk before the dojo itself. As they had forewarning that there was going to be more than just the one student, Talya had come down early to straighten things in the lobby and keep an eye out just in case the school van had trouble finding a good drop off point. Rather than standing behind the desk, the attractive blonde was perched on top of it, seated on the surface as she sorted through papers. Lately, Talya had taken to wearing a loose cut tanktop over her formfitting practice wear and today was no different. As the students disembarked she shifted the paperwork to one side to welcome the knot of teenagers. "Come on in and pick a cubby for your shoes and anything else you want to put away," Talya invited in a clipped, British accent. She flashed Raina a smile as the young woman stepped in, "Hullo, Raina." She added before raising her voice slightly, "Erik, the students are here."
  10. Fourth of March, 2016, The Gateway, Goodman Building, Freedom City On its dais in the middle of the stark, open room, the circular Gate pulsed and rippled from the distortion of energy from an open channel to another world. For once, the Gateway was crowded, both with people and luggage, crates and moving equipment, Tesla and Maximus at their control stations the only people with much room to maneuver. Chase and Victoria were mingling with the swell of twenty-odd chatting, nervous scientists wearing A.S.T.R.O. Labs insignia on their jackets and hats, while Cosmo was darting about the room in excitement. The Moon Monkey had to get his hands on anything and everything new or strange, which with a crowd of strangers really was anything. His gleeful shrieking and intrusively curious hands sometimes got him a stern psychic warning, and by now he was much less hyperactive than a quarter of an hour ago. After the media circus outside, it was a pleasant and calming change of pace. The news that the famously secretive Atom Family and endlessly innovative Lab were making a joint ventire into a mysterious new universe had hardly been enough for the news agents and shouting reporters, but the fact that three superheroes were joining them, along with Freedom Cross biologist Tristan Delacroix and journalist Daphne Celeste, had packed the street outside the Goodman Building as fans and well-wishers screamed over each other to their idols. More cynical heads had shouted accusingly that the list of supers was blatantly calculated for news-worthiness rather than "true" value to the expedition. Where, for example, was Daedalus? Dragonfly? Miss Americana or any of the other technically-able or routine dimensional travelers? That had been the point. "People are easily frightened by the unknown, by choosing you" Chase had gestured simply to Terrifica, Velocity and Valerie Cain "we disassociate this expedition with the ideas people have that everywhere we go, there are our enemies." The Gateway glared with red light. It would soon be ready for passage into the Infraverse. For the moment, there was little to do.
  11. Raveled

    Tagging

    January 22nd, 2016 Freedom City, New Jersey Midday It could have been a frog, if. It had the right body shape, all bulging belly and eyes and weirdly spindly legs. It hopped with the same quick, spastic, energetic movements. Its skin had the same wet, shiny look to it. Its tongue was wet and pink and long, slapping out and grabbing at prey and dragging them toward its open, stinking max. It could have been a frog, if it hadn’t been five feet tall. If it hadn’t been heavy enough to crack the pavement where it landed. If it hadn’t been redolent of decay and pestilence and rot and stink. If it hadn’t been black and green and ridged with what looked like rock but smoked like lava. If it hadn’t been slowly advancing on the woman with her trio of yappy dogs. Its tongue shot out like a whip and snared the smallest of them, wrapping around the puppy’s head and slowly, inexorably dragging the animal back to its mouth. It could have been a frog, if it wasn’t ready to swallow the woman whole.
  12. Raveled

    City Gym

    One advantage to living in a former industrial zone was that Miras knew plenty of buildings that no one cared about. Her magic had made it child’s play to get inside, and she had spread around a few pillows and unfolded cardboard boxes; she couldn’t afford to buy any amount of gym mats, so this would have to suffice. The hardest part of everything had actually been getting word out to Kingsnake that she was ready for their session. The man had been infuriating when they were forced together by mercenaries and key witnesses and runaway trains. Kingsnake was skilled at fighting, but his methods had left a lot to be desired. Miras couldn’t just let him walk away, so she decided to give him a talk about how to handle a fight like that. In the meantime, though, she could probably stand to learn a thing or two from Kingsnake. Being able to move faster than an eyeblink handled a lot of problems but eventually she needed to know how to hit someone properly. Miras’s normal robes were hardly suited for a fistfight, so she had reconfigured her usual outfit into something more bare; a hooded green jacket that reached to her waist, loose white trousers and black boots and gloves. She paced around the room, bounding from one foot to the other as she waited for Kingsnake. Part of her was regretting setting this whole situation up. Who was she to lecture this other hero how to fight? Sure, he liked being scary, but so did Raven and Foreshadow and Arrowhawk -- and those were all heroes. On the other hand, she kept coming back to the memory of him letting the plane crash with the paralyzed soldier in it. He had been willing to let that vehicle go down with the mercenary in it, and only Miras’s quick thinking had saved the man. As she tried to use that memory to motivate her, a small voice kept reminding her that the soldier wouldn’t have been paralyzed if it hadn’t been for Miras’s magics...
  13. 3.25AM, January 27th, Wednesday, 2016 Matheston House, 428 Kurtzberg Rd., Freedom City, U.S.A., the border of life and Hell. Her fingers shivering, Faye felt the knife slip through them, heard it clatter and clang on the tiled floor of the cavernous manor house. The steady beat of rain on the roof and the whistle of wind through the window that had shattered from his wild punch was all so much white noise. What had her frozen in place was the sight of her fianceé lying facedown in a slowly growing pool of blood gone black in the stark twilight. Sinking down, clutching her knees to her chest, Faye ignored the bloody smears she was leaving on her party clothes. She couldn't seem to shut her eyes or look away, no matter how much she wanted to. She wanted to cry, scream, stab herself, call the police, run for help, hug Matthias' body and beg its forgiveness. Torn in so many different directions, Faye remained where she was, dry-eyed and silent. How had this happened? Only last month they'd been so happy, Matty had come for Christmas and her parents had swallowed every hateful word they'd said about him. When had he started drinking, refusing to talk except to accuse her of things she couldn't have done, trying to control her every move and... ...why had he tried to kill her? "Wasn't a reason" she mumbled, starting a little at the croak of her voice "guess this is just how he really was, all along. Should have seen this, god help me...this is all my fault..." Self-recrimination had one benefit: it made crying easier. Watching from the stairway above the sobbing woman and the dying man, the demon Chorus sighed in relief and opened the Way of her kin. Unfurling black wings that would have spanned universes if they were pinions and muscle, she darted across the shadowy physical plane to where a tattooed man was sleeping. She slid down through the roof like it was so much vapour, which to her higher form it might as well have been. Kneeling beside the sleeping man she whispered into his ear "Ray, awaken. A sinner is in need."
  14. Silberman's Books. Friday, January 15th, 2016, 11:15 am. Lynn Epstein was not a fan of the sort of 'roller coaster' winter they were having this year; true, her fae physiology meant extreme temperature variations didn't bother her as much, but they were still irritating, and more importantly very hard on her mortal staff. Her assistant manager Kiki was home fighting a nasty bug, and Maddy's apartment had become a modern-day plague house, with her, her partner and child all sick and bedbound. So this Friday morning saw the store manned by all of three people in their brown Silberman's aprons: Lynn, her ever-reliable assistant and battle buddy Gretchen, and the indomitable Lance, barista extraordinaire. Many of the patrons were shuffling about and coughing, holding wads of tissue and/or wearing disposable face masks, giving the place a somewhat dismal air. But the store itself looked much the same: a combined front counter and espresso bar, several small tables and chairs for patrons, tidy bookshelves crammed with books, and walls covered with old movie stills and posters from the Golden Age of Magic, depicting such luminaries as Houdini, Blackstone, Thurston, Carter and of course the store's founder, the Amazing Al-Kazar. The morning rush was finally drawing to a close, giving Gretchen a chance to catch her breath and fix herself a quick espresso shot as she surveyed the store; today, she wore a green flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves, black jeans and her favorite Doc Martin's. She had several of her favorite piercings in her ears, and her arm tats were clearly visible. Beside her, Lance wore classic reprint Star Wars t-shirt, jeans and a black bandana covered with tiny skulls on his head. The overall feeling of crappy winter and illness put Gretchen in a darkly humorous mood, and she sent a whimsical sending to Lynn out on the floor via the magic ring on her left hand. -"Bring out your dead!"- -Tell me about it! I keep expecting one of those skeletons from a Hieronymus Bosch painting to show up.- For her part, the attractive store owner wore a sand-colored Irish fisherman's sweater, comfy jeans and light hiking boots; being immune to illness herself, she took the lead on the sales floor, greeting patrons and offering suggestions.
  15. Freedom City, New Jersey, United States Wednesday, January 6th, 2016 Midmorning A neon green bolt sped through the center of Freedom City with a tail of red and blue lights stretching behind it for a solid block. As it turned the corner with a squeal of tires, Blue Jay swung into an alley on a blue-white grapnel. She was moving fast, fast enough that the buildings were a blur around her, fast enough that one grapnel shot took her entirely through the alley, and when she shot out the other end she was just in time to see the car chase shoot past her. The archer swung around and landed on a convenient rooftop. She watched the tiny neon car with the green running lights flash past her, easily staying out of the reach of the police cars that were chasing it. Unfortunately, that same speed and agility kept it out of Blue Jay’s reach. She watched the chase move away from her, breathing through parted teeth. She’d never catch up with the car with her own speed; she’d have to get smarter to stop the reckless driver. Jay reached up and tapped the commlink in her ear, sending out a signal. “Blodeuwedd. Do you see where the car is headed?”
  16. Although Talya's reputation might give the impression that all her New Year's Eves were spent at fabulous parties or madcap adventure, the fact of the matter was she'd had plenty of quiet New Years as well. There were certainly enough years where time's steady march onwards had not been a matter to celebrate. Still, in all of the New Years that she had celebrated, loud or quiet, Talya had certainly never fallen asleep a good half an hour before the overly-hyped television special had even begun it's crescendo. Yet sleeping was just what the blonde was doing, rather uncomfortably in her position as human barrier. Sometime between when Min and Erik had stepped out, the former to bathe Eden and the latter to produce snacks, Talya had curled up on the floor to keep Mia from getting past her and was now serving as an even better handhold for cruising than the couch had provided. How Talya continued to sleep through the chubby - and potentially sticky - baby hands yanking on her side was anyone's best guess. Normally, the ex-thief slept relatively lightly. Today, though, Mia's hand catching in her hair earned only a sleepy snort as Talya shifted, one arm encircling Mia absently.
  17. Jan 6, 2016. Freedom City. Lincoln. Corner of 24th and K. 2:15 AM. This building used to be a hotel, years ago. It’d been refurbished into low income apartments in the 80s. Since then it had changed hands a few times, as each owner either gradually realized it was a big money loser or just went bankrupt. The last owner couldn’t afford to make any improvements, and the one before didn’t care enough to bother. It wasn’t condemned, but it was closed by the city health department. Currently it was empty. Or it was supposed to be. There was a new owner. Her name was Kerri “The Dragon Saint” McDougal. Anyone who knew the street gang and/or organized crime scenes knew who she was. An up and coming leader of a gang called named after her. The Dragon Saints were…insane. They’d battled rival gangs and various organized crime families up and down the East Coast, rattling the old order. It was a wonder the Raven or someone else hadn’t stepped in yet. Then again…the sheer outrageousness of the stories was likely working in their favor. Firefights while falling from an airliner? Dueling helicopters? Were those…hoverbikes? Then there was the merchandising and media savvy that made it seems like the worst of the exploits were just Photoshopped movie shoots and made internet stars out of the core Dragon Saints members. Next was the resulting cash building a wall of lawyers between the core members and law enforcement. Finally was the fact that they’d wisely stayed out of Freedom. Until now. A series of daring robberies in their signature over the top style had marked the arrival of the Dragon Saints to Freedom City. Tonight, Kerri was in town, with a number of old hands in tow. The latest chapter of the franchise was getting started. It was up to some heroes to put a stop to it.
  18. Janurary 3, 2016. Freedom City. Southside. In front of the Main Terminal of Jordan International Airport. 10:00 AM. Francisca Rivera was nervous. She wasn’t late. That she knew. Therefore, the person she was here for was. She was UN Security, it was her first time in charge, and she was assigned to a high value target. UN diplomat Kenzie Zhang was one of the most accomplished negotiators in the world. Her work (and that of her subordinates) had kept Indonesia from tearing itself apart a few years ago. Not to mention her continuing work keeping North Korea from doing anything…drastic. She was the go to person when violence threatened Southeast and East Asia. Rivera was a little star struck, but she was a professional. That was not why she was nervous. Due to budget cuts, the UN hadn’t given her a full security team. This was not why she was nervous, either. She’d made do with worse. It was the replacement for her unsupplied agents. His name was Edge, and he was an American superhero who also worked for the UN. His presence by itself didn’t make her nervous. It was what it meant. The higher ups didn’t deploy supers lightly, especially since there weren’t many working for the UN. Something was going to happen, and it was going to be bad for her and her team. She’d expressed this to Edge, but he seemed rather unconcerned. She sighed. No help for it. Her team, limited as it was, had secured the area as best they could. Edge had brought a partner, and she had lent on a hand on that front. There was nothing left to do but wait for Ms. Zhang to come out. Her current security team was even more shorthanded than Rivera’s, and had been on the clock almost 24/7 for the past three days. Rivera just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her name was Brigitte. Today she had curly blonde hair (a wig) and blue eyes (contacts). She’d been training for this ever since she could remember. She was the fifth graduate of Project Stardust, and justifiably proud of graduating earlier than the other four. This was her first assignment. The director was right. People looked at her differently. They didn’t see her as a threat. Nobody looked at her twice as she was scouting for a good spot to take the shot. But she’d found a good spot, and squeezed into it. The cameras didn’t see her approach. Her escape route was clear. The only thing left was to wait for her target, line up the scope as she’d been trained, and pull the trigger. But her target was late. It made Brigitte uneasy. Maybe something was wrong. Had one or both of the other two been captured? Should she run? Was it already too late to run? She looked around through her scope. No, everything was fine. Her target was just delayed. That happened to planes sometimes. She munched a few small cookies and waited.
  19. Lukēkā gā'um̐, Tibet Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a breathtaking series of mountains that didn’t quite seemed liked it did flying into the village seemed as classically tibetan as you could get. It seemed almost timeless as if it came fully formed from another century. The locals seemed to be unconcerned with the sudden arrival of stranger as if they see similar things or stranger, than them. It was easy to spot who they were here to see if you knew what to look for her features were the same as Merge, though a more natural beauty. And a lot more conservatively dressed in suitable gear for the cold temperatures of the village, sat at a sturdy wooden table a steaming mug of what smelled like coffee in front of her. Spotting the heroes she gave a smile a stood up to greet them both. “Hi there I’m Nicki. Please take a seat I’m sure you’ve got some questions to ask.”
  20. Talya had never really thought she'd miss English weather but the unseasonably warm December really had begun to cut into the Christmas mood, in her opinion. Still, that hadn't deterred her from enjoying the season, especially with the Espadas children to shop for. Although, to be fair, it wasn't like the ex-spy needed an excuse to shop but the season was more magical when there were children to spoil and Eden was right at the right age for that. So, it wasn't unusual for Talya to try and coax Min or Erik on a holiday shopping trip once Thanksgiving had passed. Nor was it unusual for Talya to turn up in the dojo when she wasn't scheduled to teach and knew Erik's classes were light, but she wasn't dressed to spar and her expression lacked the coaxing smile that usually accompanied Talya's suggestions to play hooky. Still, things couldn't be all that terrible as she waited for things to finish up before twining her arms around his waist and offering him an affectionate kiss. "And good morning to you, handsome. I don't suppose you have time in your busy schedule for a quick errand?"
  21. December 23, 2015. Freedom City. Midtown. Morgan’s Jewlery. 5:00 PM. Christmas was almost here. The sense of the season was in the air…and on the lightpoles…and the windows…basically downtown was fully decorated to all of humanity’s ranged senses. Last minute shoppers mixed with the general hubbub that was downtown Freedom. In fact, Morgan’s Jewlery was doing a fairly brisk business. Normally, the shop usually dealt with custom orders from more wealthy Freedonians, but for this year’s Christmas shopping season they’d stocked up on more affordable jewelry, in hopes that the profits allow them to afford to move the shop to a new, larger location a few blocks away. Evidently, someone had a better idea as to where that money could go. The customers and staff were being menaced by, of all things, a lion while several others emptied the vault and display cases of gold and diamonds to a waiting truck. One of the staff was already downed, apparently badly injured. The alarm button was close to him, unpressed. Strangely, despite the fact that anyone could see what was happening inside if they glanced through one of the shop’s windows, life continued as usual outside of it.
  22. Tögöl aj Akhui, Mongolia, Edge of the Gobi Desert The town was a small place one where people would normally just travel through on the way to somewhere else, but today the town was home to a variable army of trucks. Not by choice though the various convoys should be well on there way to one of the larger cities of Mongolia or even China, but the spooked drivers refused to travel any further, even for the silly money the Westerners were offering. The day had started well until the region they’d travelled into was hit by a number of small, but disturbing, number of earthquakes. A rumble went through the various local drivers and hand that the Olgoi-khorkhoi were angry for some transgression, the famed Death Worms. This was really quite good for the SuperCrime! crowd who had been trying to track down the elusive creature, and the apparently always frazzled producer was trying to get more information from a rather Grizzled Mongolian who seemed to know more about the creature. Wayward’s crew however were talking about the possibility of hiring an helicopter to get to the next scheduled concert.
  23. There was no shortage of reasons to leave the Fens, the crime, the fearful desperation, the smell, to name but a few. But the Fens was not a place people with other options chose to live in. People in the Fens were those who hadn't or more likely couldn't get out. This made for a kind of community all it's own however, you may not trust your neighbors as far as you could throw their heroin addled husk but you knew the faces, this was even more true in the shifting camps of the homeless. There was a cruel natural order to the FCPD sweeps disruptions and arrests, the hospitalizations and deaths, whether from overdose, exposure, or malnutrition. But no one just left, if someone got a ticket out, it was known, if someone got picked up for spooking the tourists too close to the theatre district, it was known, when a body turned up, it was known. So when people left the camps and it was not known, it was talked about. Robin first heard word later than when she lived among them but she still heard things on her weekly soujourns, Charlies drunken ramblings about 'snatchers' were a little too visceral to be the alcohol and smack addled visions of police or public health pick ups. And he wasn't the only one, there was a fear on the streets, people were vanishing, not to their own vices or the dangers of the streets, something was taking them and there wasn't a trace. The vigilante known as Kingsnake heard things as well, whispers in dark corners, Fearful cries in the dark, the city was awash in the noise of daily life but certain words and phrases stuck out, bore investigating. There was something happening in the Fens, the usual scum driven from their hidey holes by men with more training and better armed than the average criminal, the kind of muscle that cost serious money and secured serious privacy. Those with less privileged connections might never have heard the term, Labyrinth, but that hidden disease within the city was well known to the Kingsnake, they had after all in their own fashion made him what he was today. Only mentioned in fearful whispers like a criminal boogeyman or maybe more accurately a wrathful pantheon. Smugglers suspected they may be working for hte labyrinth though smart ones knew not to ask those sorts of questions, muscle would use the name ot strike fear until the mysteriously were disappeared. But Kingsnake heard everything in his city, and now he heard the labyrinth was working the Fens.
  24. Saturday, December 12, 2015 8:36 AM Eric LaCroix probably should have known better than to expect a peaceful day off. It had all started off well enough. He'd woken up, made a cup of coffee at the Parkhurst, and gone on something of a constitutional. The snow had turned from white to gray with time spent in the city, but had melted away to traces, leaving a relatively beautiful and unobstructed - if damp - urban landscape. He'd gone out bundled up in his jacket, intent on catching an exhibition at one of the local galleries. Then the police car had sped by. Followed by two more. The part of him that wanted him to leave it to someone else was swiftly shouted down. He decided not to go in in costume, though - just yet. Instead, he followed the cars, which eventually came to rest outside a restored brownstone off of Lechmere. They joined an ambulance that had already arrived; in the back bay, a man in a courier's uniform was being tended to by two EMTs. Blood ran down his face from a cut over his eyebrow, and he was desperately trying to get a hold of his words. "Door was open... I heard screaming... went in, and... things just started flying at me..." Eric shook his head. He didn't think this place was haunted - at least, it hadn't been the last time he'd checked on it. Then again, that had been 6 months ago. The place had undergone some renovations. He opened his eyes to the pulse of the grave... and saw the house quivering with necromantic energy, veins of black running through its walls. Great. He reached for his phone, placing a call to his associates. "Hey, yeah. We've got a house in Lantern Hill that wasn't haunted, and now is. And apparently, it doesn't like delivery boys."
  25. Mike was not usually big on the night out sort of dates, generally he was as happy with watching an old movie on netflix and ordering in as with more grand evenings, and he almost never set out to arrange a formal date without there being a milestone to celebrate, even then it usually fell upon Alex to see to details. There were however a few things Mike knew and knew well. One Alex worked too hard and did more than even her prodigious abilities could manage without break for too long, Two She was a fan of the grand old musicals of yesteryear, and Three one of her favorites, The Slipper In The Rose, was touring Freedoms city in a revival performance. It was to his credit that not only did he make the arrangements for dinner and the show himself but was very near to actually managing to surprise her with the night on the town he'd orchestrated. He waited now patiently if nervously for her to finish her preparations for the evening his suit freshly pressed and, thanks to her insistence that he get one tailored, for once a good fit on his towering frame. The fine black suite was accented by a Blue/Black silk paisley tie and a light honey linen shirt he had been alarmed to learn cost nearly as much as his textbooks for the quarter. He sat on one of the stools at the bar adjacent the kitchen then stood to pace slowly as he went over the details in his head to ensure he hadn't missed anything before sitting again determined to appear calm at least when she emerged.
×
×
  • Create New...