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Just another IC Short Story Early December, 2023, Construction site in Greenbank Michael got out of class on Friday and immediately went back to his room. He dumped his school supplies, changed into a generic polo, and by 3:30 he was on a bus headed into the city proper, reading a book of poetry by William Blake. It was part of an assignment, but he had an interest in the poet’s most popular and well known poem The Tyger; it was perhaps a bit generic to say it was one of his favorites, but he did rank it quite highly as poetry. He annotated some stuff in the book with his own writings, but read accompanying discussions on the poem that were included in the book as well. He flipped the pages and scribbled for several stops, until he saw the skeletal frame of the building above a chain-link fence with a big plastic sign advertising DeCosta Construction on it, and he got out at the next stop, putting the book in his pocket. He crossed the street and wandered up to the gate, then into the site proper. A heavy-set man minding a concrete mixer saw him and intercepted him a few steps in with a frown. “Kid, you can’t be in here.” He said sternly. Michael inclined his head to the side curiously and extended his hand. The man shook his hand reflexively, a natural reaction a lot of people had to someone casually extending their hand to them. “I’m Michael, I’m Terrance’s son.” Michael explained, smiling. The older man seemed doubtful and was about to say something but a whistle from two stories up made them both look up at a muscular, dark skinned man working on setting rivets. “Hey Mike!” “Hello Mister Franklin!” Michael responded with a wave. Franklin Bird was one of his dad’s best workers and had been with him for a decade on every job. “He’s in the trailer. Joe, Mike’s fine.” Franklin called before going back to his work. Joe looked at Michael, who shrugged and offered a genuine smile again. “Just go straight to the trailer and get a hard hat if you’re going to be wandering around.” Joe said in annoyance. “Yes, Sir.” Michael said demurely to avoid bruising an ego as he stepped around and moved with purpose directly to the management trailer, where his father was sitting at what passed for a fancy desk on a construction site; a white plastic folding table and a lawn chair. Terrance Thomas Adon was the reason Michael had a tall frame, but he was not the reason for Michael’s full head of hair. His belly had gone a bit slack recently as he had been doing less work out on the sites and moved to supervisory positions, but he was a large man with arms made strong from work, with calloused hands. His hair was more salt than pepper, and was thinning at the top. He had a carefully trimmed mustache that was exactly within regulations for construction works, and in his slacks and polo he looked the part of an educated foreman. He was currently going over figures in his chair, but he looked up and grinned at Michael as his son entered. “Ah, if it ain’t a stranger!” he said cheerfully. “Where you been? Busy at your school, I ‘spect?” He asked as Michael pulled up his own chair. “Yeah. It’s...well moving to a new school partway through the year is rough. I’m trying to find some clubs and stuff, and all the other students and faculty are really welcoming, but it’s always going to be an adjustment.” Michael said honestly, scratching his chin. “If we hadn’ta thought it was necessary, we wouldn’ta moved ya to the new school to begin with. But it was what was best for you, you know?” Terrance said with a frown, putting his pen down and clasping his large hands together on his desk as he looked at Michael. “I understand. And I’m not upset about it. But It takes time to do any sort of changes. You know that, don’t you?” “Of course I do; And I’ve got plenty of experience with eggheads who have to have things changed at the last minute too. And if I know anything about you, and I feel like I do, you can handle any of that stuff without much issue.” he looked around quickly and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No matter what them powers are doing to you.” he whispered it but his voice was confident, enough to embolden Michael into a smile of confidence of his own, then his voice rose again. “It’s Sam I’m worried about, if anything, she’s not taking it as well as you, I’ve heard from her parents.” “Yeah. I’m trying to help her along but I can only do so much, and sometimes she just doesn’t really want help. And it’s not like I’m gonna force her to do anything.” His father nodded along and maintained the tone of offering advice. “Look, sometimes the best thing you can do is to do your best, and let other people follow along in your example; sometimes people aren’t looking for a hand up, they’re looking for the road, and Michael, you can carve that road for them.” He didn’t say anything else, but Michael studied him carefully. The pinch of those dark brown eyes, the twitch of his lip. The unspoken statement his father left there, that he probably didn’t even want to admit he thought, was that sometimes people wouldn’t follow the path even if you gave them the road, and that you had to cut them loose. Michael knew his dad would have followed that same advice himself; with problematic workers, he could only give them so many chances. “Carve the road, huh?” “Or light the way, or hurl the boulders out of the way, or direct the traffic. However you want to present it as.” he said with a grin. “Just, doing something to make it easier for other people.” “I get it.” Michael responded with a wave of his hand. “Help myself first, and others can come after, because they’ll have an easier time going where I’ve already been.” “And because if you’re stable and got your head put on straight, you aren’t going to be distracted, you can put all your effort into helping other people.” Terrance said as he stood up. “Come on, I had to work through lunch getting payroll ready, so I wanna go get something to eat.” So father and son left the worksite for a bit, heading three blocks down the street to a Mexican place where Michael ordered some tacos and his dad got a steaming plate of fajitas. “So how’s school?” “Not bad...I’m working on a book report, they really threw me right in and I just had to catch up, so it’s been challenging, but I’m managing. The library is full of books so there’s plenty of help with studying and the like.” “Any sports?” “Nothing official, we’re too small for anything like that. But the students play sports together sometimes, you know, just for fun. So it keeps me up to date.” “A shame you can’t compete anymore.” It was an odd thing to say; they both had their frustrations about the situation. Michael liked sports, and he liked playing with others. His father liked watching Michael win, but also liked Michael having fun. There’d be no point to it if Michael wasn’t enjoying sports, or at least that was how his dad always acted, so as long as he was having fun, it should be fine, right? “Isn’t it just enough to be having fun?” Michael asked his dad, wanting to poke at the discussion a bit more with his dad, who frowned at the question. “It is enough to be having fun, Michael. But you enjoyed competition. I can look at you and tell you you’re missing the feeling of competing in some way. Now sure, it’s probably some level of being uncomfortable in new surroundings, but I get the feeling you’re going to be jonesing for a genuine contest before too long; that having fun with friends throwing the ball around isn’t going to fix your desire for a little competition.” “...That makes it sound like I’m gonna cause trouble looking for fights.” He thought about his interaction with the green-haired student he had earlier. “...You know...maybe you’re right. But I don’t intend to.” “Only if you let it happen. It’s just about keeping control of yourself. I only mention it because I know you’re better than your worst traits.” His father said frankly, his voice even. It did actually bring some level of frustration to Michael, to be informed of- and have to recognize- his own failures and shortcomings. He would eventually miss competition, he’d miss challenging himself. But that was only if he didn’t change his perceptions. “...I’m going through a lot of changes aren’t I.” he said after a long time spent thinking about it. “You are. And with those changes come benefits. The Chinese Character for Crisis contains the characters for both ‘Danger’ and ‘Opportunity’. John F. Kennedy said that.” “He was paraphrasing Lewis Mumford from 1944, and it’s not correct, the second character means something different.” Michael noted. “I learned that in a linguistics class I’m taking; it was an example of how things that aren’t exactly correct can be warped to provide a more positive message and how those messages often stick around despite the incorrectness due to people’s desire to have positive messaging.” Terrance laughed gruffly. “Well, then, even if it’s not right, it’s a good thought to have, right? You’re in Crisis, and it’s dangerous, but there’s also opportunity.” Michael laughed at that in response, at his father's skillful handling of new information; his work, his body, that all belied that he had always had a sharp mind that he was willing to exercise with the use of a quick word or jib.. “You’re right. I suppose that’s true. Maybe I should just start saying it too. ‘You know, people like to say that the Chinese character for crisis contains the words “danger” and “opportunity”, but that’s not actually true, but it shows that people want it to be true’, or something like that.” The two shared a familial grin and chuckle together before it was interrupted by Terrance’s phone ringing he picked it up and answered. “Yeah Frank?” His happy face slowly dripped into a serious scowl. “...Crap, you’re serious? Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get everyone out the back while he’s distracted.” He said, hanging up. He looked at his son with a severe look. “Michael. A guy I fired last week came back to the site. I had been going to send out his last check but it seems like he wants more than that. And he’s juiced himself up.” he said the next part very seriously. “I don’t think you should come back there, just wait here until I get back.” Michael looked at him probingly for a moment, then nodded as he understood what was being said. “You got it. I won’t go anywhere near the site, I’ll wait here until you get back.” he said politely, a son obeying his father. Terrance got up, left the money on the table, and headed out the door at a jog. as he was in the middle of the first crosswalk, the roar of wind overcame the sound of cars for a moment and a corona of red and gold shot over the buildings, heading back towards the construction site.

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 11, 2023 Neko felt that familiar rush of pleasure as she published her latest #CatgirlReacts video. But now #CatgirlNeededaDrinkofWater, so it was time to move on. There was a bit of racket in the hallway, and her instincts pricked up as she reached to open the door. What was this? Pterradonna, Neko’s dorm mate known for her ability to transform into a pterodactyl, was pressed up against one side of the hallway with a look of confusion and perhaps slight fear on her face. Following Pterra’s eyes, Neko saw Consuelo halfway up the wall on the other side of the hallway, dressed up in cat cosplay, and making unconvincing angry cat noises. “Rawr! I’m a cat, Pterra! Rawr! I’m gonna get you!” Rumor had it that Consuelo had gone on some sort of adventure with La Puma Negra last weekend and now thought being a cat was the cool thing to do. If only she weren’t so bad at it. “Um, Suelo,” ventures the nervous, semi-saurian teen, “how are you sticking to the wall?” “What? Oh, uh. . . .” The cat-costumed student drops to the floor and looks up with dismay at the fingertip-shaped holes left in the otherwise immaculate plaster walls of the hallway. “Oops. I must have accidentally done that with my disintegration. Does anybody have some, like, spackle?” Pterradonna takes this moment to slip back in her room. “Uh, gotta go. . . .” “Oh, hey Neko. Look, I’m a cat! Rawr! Rawr!” And Consuelo stomps across the hallway lashing out with imaginary claws. “Wanna cat fight me?”

This is just a little IC solo thread/story, only two posts, I've written about the first time Golden Star does some Superheroics. Nothing major, no mechanics, no other characters or anything, so there's no need for an OOC thread I think. Black Friday, 2023, Midtown, Millennium Mall The Mall was absolutely, ludicrously packed. There would be more space in a sardine can then there would be in the inside of the mall. Accompanying Michael’s mother, him and Kenny had had to amuse themselves while their mother spent most of the year’s surplus- the money saved by Thomas repairing the garage by himself, the money saved by Michael getting a free ride to Claremont, and the money quietly deposited into their account to make up for Michael’s hospital stay- on a variety of bright, shiny presents that Michael and Kenny were mostly here to carry when needed. She had shooed them aware a little after lunch, which likely meant she was shopping for them, and left the two without any real direction on what to do. Michael had already gotten most of his presents, but Stella liked the feeling of buying presents in person instead of over the internet, so it meant trips to the malls, the shops, and the stores. It wasn’t that much of a bother, but it was difficult to get some air when crammed onto the small walkways of the three story building. Currently the two were hanging over the balcony of the food court, legs dangling over a three story drop as they sat on the raised barrier, watching people scurry below them. “You see her?” Michael asked. “Hrmmm...no.” Kenny responded. Michael leaned over conspiratorially and pointed. It was a bit easier for him than his brother; ever since he got his powers, his senses seemed a little sharper. He unerringly identified his mother’s red curls as she walked into a toy store amidst a throng of 20 or 30 other parents. Kenny followed his finger and made a sound. “Oh! I see her. You’ve got good eyes!” “Well that happens when you play a bunch of sports. If you put in the effort to train something you get better at it. I have to be able to pick out receivers in a crowd and track the puck on the ice, you know?” The little brother hmmed again and took a sip of his drink. “How come you aren’t playing sports at your new school? They ain’t even got no sports teams, so why are you there?” He asked with the innocence of a child. Michael sighed and stretched. “Come on, we’ve been over this. I can’t play sports anymore because I got hurt in my accident, remember?” “You don’t look hurt.” “It’s an inside hurt. The kind you can’t see but you always have to walk around with.” “Like mom? She doesn’t act like it hurts but she always gets scared when there’s a supervillain on TV.” Michael frowned at his brother’s casual innocence to ask such biting questions. “Yeah. A hurt like that. It means I can’t play anymore because I might get hurt, or something bad might happen. And the people at my new school are helping me, even if I might not ever get to play sports again. Like how Miss Cooper helped Mom; she still gets scared but she goes out and does despite it, right?” “Yeah.” “So that’s how it is with me. I might not ever play professionally or anything, but I’ll eventually get to the point where I’m okay.” he said easily. “So anyway, what are you getting mom?” He directed the conversation away from his issues smoothly. Kenny wasn’t actually going to get a present, it was just going to be whatever their Dad got and put his name on it. “Me and Dad are getting her a spa treatment. And we’re making little pots for flowers at school and I’m gonna give mine to her.” “I bet she’d like that.” Kenny nodded along and they returned to silence for a while, watching people while the bustle of the mall came over them, until Michael’s phone rang and he pulled it out to check it. The number on it was for his boss, Sandra Sampson. Maybe wanting him to take another shift or something. He answered without much concern. “Yes M’am.” The voice that responded was the same as always with Sandra; gruff, clipped, and expecting obedience. “Michael, you’re at the Millennium Mall.” That was not a question. “That would be correct.” he keep his voice even and what he was responding with vague; Kenny was watching and he didn’t want to give him any kind of idea. Let the little brother think he was just discussing getting put on a new shift or something. “There are a couple of low rent thugs who have stolen a car and some jewelry and are trying to evade police in the local area. I know you aren’t fully trained, but there shouldn’t be any problem with you stopping them. I’ve asked for you to get the first shot, and people are quite busy today for obvious reasons, so the ball is in your court.” “Do you think I’m ready for that?” “...” she was quiet. Which indicated she was doubtful. “I do not think there will be any harm in you trying.” which meant that there was someone who was going to be watching to make sure he didn’t mess up. “I get it. I’ll be there soon.” he said evenly. She hung up before he did and he put his phone back in his pocket. “Kenny, I gotta go take care of something. Can you sit on that bench until I get back?” “Are you buying me a present?” “...Yeah. I’m gonna go get your present. So you need to go sit over there and wait. Here’s twenty bucks to get a snack.” He said as he turned and slid off the railing, then helped Kenny down. He deposited Kenny in a booth and wandered off, heading towards a maintenance corridor and then up towards the roof.

GM Freedom City December 1st 2023, Evening The first day of December is a cold and dark Friday evening in Freedom City. Snow is slowly falling, giving the city an almost ethereal sense of beauty, calm and peace. A good and peaceful start to the time of christmas. But this is Freedom City, and that obviously won't last. As Bernadette O'Connell returns to her dorm, she finds a folded piece of paper in the shape of an rectangle on her bed. Once it is unfolded, the paper shows machine written text that reads "Want to do some good? Come find me." and a set of coordinates. When Leon Moore comes home, he finds a piece of paper likewise folded as a rectangle on his table. The machine written text on his paper reads "Wonder what Casanova and his goons are up to? Come find out." and a set of coordinates. Luke Landers likewise finds a folded piece of paper, with a message for him. "Do you know where you girlfriend is? Come save her." and a set of coordinates. The coordinates on each piece of paper point to the same abandoned warehouse in Bayview.

Saturday, September 11, 2023 Southside, Freedom City The first week of classes, somehow, was over. The feline vigilante known as La Puma Negra reclined languidly on the big couch in the common area on the first floor of Kord Dormitory, non-commitally flipping through a magazine. Suddenly, her hair stood on end. Ugh. She knew this feeling. It had to be that weird girl on her floor . . . Rot floated into the common area. She saw a wild tangle of black hair sticking up above the back of the big couch. "Oh hey, Carmen! I was just looking for you." As the matter-disrupting teen with the green dreadlocks flew closer, the feeling of unease just got worse. "Uh, I know I'm kinda skeezy, and I know my bad vibe might be worse for, uh, cat people than for, like, non-cat people, but, uh, I've got this favor I was going to ask you. . . ." Although she's floating in the air, the grungy teen still manages to look like she's walking on egg shells. "So, uh, the first time I tried crime fighting, I kinda ended up getting a little bit, uh, arrested, and I like, broke a bunch of stuff. . . . And that incident at the Albright Institute has got me more worried about my powers than ever. . . Anyway, now that I'm at Claremont, I was kind of trying to be a little less, uh, spastic with the hero stuff. So, um, people say that you do, like, crime patrols. . . Uh, it's there any chance maybe I could like, you know, tag along one time maybe? Like maybe you could, like, give me some pointers on like how to do it without screwing everything up?" Consuelo finally takes a breath. She seems to remember something. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about the best part. I've got these bracelets now, of you wear it, that creepy aura that comes off me won't effect you. . . Um, if you want. . . " And Consuelo holds out a friendship bracelet made of black fabric.

Friday, September 10 Albright Institute, Freedom City Getting into the field trip to the Albright Institute took a little luck. You had to put your name in and get drawn in a lottery. Interest in the trip was high. As the premier lab researching super powers, the Institute held a special interest for Claremont's metahumans. So naturally, Bernadette O'Connell, known to the world as the duplicating super hero Multi-Girl, was expecting every seat on the bus to be full when she scrambled aboard. Instead, the back third of the bus was empty and students were crammed up to three to a seat in the rest. It didn't take long to figure out why. Bernadette's dorm mate, Consuelo (known on campus as "Rot") was sitting in the back seat all alone, the rest of the Claremont teenagers happy to have some distance between themselves and her. Nowhere else to sit for Bernadette, though. The green-haired outcast in the back sees Bernadette and grins. "Hey, Bernie! You're coming on this trip too? That's awesome! I saved you a seat." Consuelo looks around conspiratorially, slyly opens her backpack, and then whispers: "Dude, check it out, I've got, like, half a case of Mountain Dew in here!"

Sub-basement of Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 9:45 AM Lawrence Harrow looked about the large room on one of the sub-basements beneath the grounds of Claremont Academy. The room was rather Spartan, with smooth white and grey walls, a floor that had a hexagon pattern and a high, almost cavernous ceiling. Along one of the walls, a couple dozen feet above the floor, was a dark set of plexiglass windows. "So, this is the Doom Room." The blond teen stated with his refined British accent as he looked back over his shoulder towards his roommate and gave a small grin. "Ready to show off what you can do Baz?" The faculty had arranged time in the school’s training room for several of the new students in order to start gathering baseline information on their powers for the year. As such, Lawerence was wearing the standard blue and yellow Claremont uniform, the morphic molecule costume tightly fitting his lean athletic build. The teen began slowly scanning the apparently empty room before his bright blue eyes fixed on the windows to the control room for a few moments. He then turned back to Baz. "Parker said he was in our testing group right? Wonder who the others will be."

Claremont Academy, Jasmin Summers Administrative Building Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 9:20 AM Bernadette O'Connell made her way along a path toward the administrative building of Claremont Academy. The attractive redhead had been asked by the school's headmistress to provide a tour to a newly enrolled student of the school. The Irish teen had to admit she was likely a good option for this task during a school day, seeing as she could be in multiple places at a time (one of her duplicates was sitting in a math class at that moment). The tall girl was dressed in a pair of jeans and a light grey lacrosse hoodie. Checking her phone, she quickened her pace as she realized she was a bit behind schedule. Thankfully she was quick enough that she arrived at the main entrance of the admin building just as a tall boy built like an American football player exited the main office. "Hello, Michael?" Bernadette asked with a warm smile as she walked up to the teen, her Irish accent evident. "I'm Bernadette, Headmistress Summer asked me ta give ye a tour o' campus."

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday, September 6, 2023 The first week of school at Claremont Academy was proving to be a whirlwind. At least that’s what sixteen-year-old Rosalind Sommaripa, sometimes known as the high-flying superhero Starshine, would have told you. Class had been out for a half-hour, and the no-nonsense teenager was taking a brief break in her dorm room to gather her thoughts and refine her plan for the rest of the week . . . again. Her reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door, which turned out to not be fully closed and swung open, revealing her green-dreadlocked dorm mate Consuelo, hovering just above the floor. “Oh, hey, uh, Rosie . . . Do you think this might be a good time, now to, uh, . . . I mean do you think it would work out, if you had time, to, like, fly over to my mom’s house with me and explain to her that I really am enrolled at Claremont?”

"No, you get some sleep," said Ashley Tran in a friendly sort of way, careful to keep her voice low enough that she didn't alarm the small baby she was holding as she paced the Claremont campus. With her helmet and jacket off (or rather, in her motorcycle's storage), she could have been any adult visitor to Claremont's campus. Well. Most of them weren't wearing sunglasses just in case anyone should happen to pick her out as a former student twice over; and few of them were carrying a baby. "We'll be fine...this is not more dangerous than the mining planet!" she added seriously. "You have been up with the baby all weekend. Get some rest, babe." She hung and smiled down at Phillip, who was going through a phase where he only stayed quiet when his mother was holding him. So naturally he immediately started bawling his bright blue eyes out, crinkling his little tomato face, and otherwise throwing up a storm. "Sssh, sshh..." She flushed slightly as she sang to the baby, thinking how easy her mother had always made this look. Well she'd told Carmen what to expect when they met, even if she hadn't actually seen the baby before - babies cried, what could you do?

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 4, 2023 Like the rest of the dormitories, the fifth floor of Kord was a similar scene of controlled chaos involving students and parents. Three eighteen year old girls emerged from the stairwell into the hall of the fifth floor. The three were all identical in appearance, the same, long red hair and dressed in matching jean shorts and green tank-tops. The only difference between them was what each was carrying, with one having a backpack and suitcase, the next only had a large suitcase (which she seemed to lift with minimal effort) and the last carrying a box. Bernadette O'Connell led two of her duplicates down the hall toward her room for her last year at Claremont, excited to see her friend again. It had been an interesting summer, not the least of which had been her experience at a band competition in Boston. The sooner she got her stuff to her new room, the sooner she could go find her friends and catch up….

Kord Dormitories, Second Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 4, 2023 The start of the new school year was just a week away, and the activity on Claremont Academy had increased in anticipation. Today, students (and some parents) had descended on the school’s dormitories, getting students moved in ahead of the start of classes. The weather in Freedom City was still quit warm, pushing towards the 90’s, with the humidity making it seem even warmer. Lawrence Harrow exited the stairwell on the second floor of the dorms, a backpack over one shoulder and a large suitcase in tow. The blond sixteen year old’s parents had seen him off at home in North Bay and he had driven himself to campus. He was looking to get some of his things to his room and catch up with Baz so they could start meeting more of the classmates.

GM Eyeball had information. Blowfish, struggling with finances after Nightscale's daring theft of gold, and caught up with fighting the Yardie gang lead by Machete Max, was moving in on the smugglers of Freedom City docks. Small time crooks, weak, ripe for the picking. Right now, just past midnight, a gang of six of Blowfishe's mooks, armed with pistols, shotguns, and baseball bats, were closing in on the ship Lost and Forgotten, a mid sized cargo ship arrived from Africa. Even Eyeball didn't know quite what was in it, but he knew it was contraband. And he knew that the ships Crew knew it to. It was going to be a bloody affair. The ships crew were sailors, not fighters. There were evenly matched in number, but were not ready, not armed. If Blowfishes thugs got the jump on them, it would be all over quickly. And that was the plan. Blowfish not only intended to steal whatever contraband was there, but to start taking over the smuggling business- or rather, start demanding protection money from the smugglers. He had sized up the docks and found it ripe for the plucking. Only thing was, Blowfish rather stayed away from electronics. He was old school. Eyeball could hack and spy, but he didn't know what precisely was in the ship. And he had only found out about the raid last minute. Nightscale had got the call, but had little time to prepare...

Mid-August, 2023 After sunset / before midnight Liberty Park “…And in an update on other unfortunate news. The body of local small business owner Donald Greuber was found. The body was found in the waters of Liberty Park, just a hundred feet from the spot local news correspondent Vincent Lancaster and his cameraman Andrew Peterson disappeared from three days ago. The latest victims to fall prey to what people are calling the Liberty Park Demon.” A young anchorman reads from an offscreen teleprompter. “Freedom City Police have repeatedly insisted though that after serious investigation, there is no actual proof of supernatural involvement.” Anywhere else in the country and that may have been meant as a joke to lighten the mood. But in Freedom… “City Hall has been under pressure after it had been revealed police had been downplaying attacks around Liberty Park that have been increasing over the last year. No connections have been made between the known victims and police still have no suspects.” The young man folds his hand solemnly. “We will continue to cover this story as more information becomes available.” the camera switches to a cheerful looking young anchorwoman. “And when we return…” **** *ring ri-* “911, what is your emergency?” “Ya, ah, I want to report a, ah, a body.” “A body?” “Yes.” “Can you tell if they’re alive?” “Nah, they not moving, and I ain’t getting any closer.” “That’s okay sir. Can I get your name?” “I, ah, rather not.” “That’s okay sir. Where did you find the body?” “Near the Foster St entrance of Liberty. It’s, ah, it’s hangin over the wall.“ “Hanging over th-“ “Look, I can’t talk anymore. I ain’t getting involved.” “Sir-“ *click* **** Street lamps illuminate the police tape that cordoned off nearly a hundred yards in every direction into the park from the Foster street entrance of Liberty park. Agitated police personnel swarm the area looking for clues while keeping late night rubberneckers at a distance. Several reports argue with the police refusing to let them past the barriers until they’ve finished. Despite the efforts of police, civilians are still active in the park. It’s been a sad, but constant struggle for authorities. Some are heedless of the danger, some possibly hoping for it. Some hoping to take advantage of it and some just because they tragically have no where else to go. There have been rumors of federal involvement at the behest of local government. And pictures on social media have show individuals in suits speaking with local police, though no official statement on it has been given. All said and done… there seems little optimism that an end is in sight.

Along the banks of the Yarlung Tsangpo River Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon, People’s Republic of China Wednesday August 2, 2023 10:45 AM local time Situated high on the Tibetan Plateau, the Yarlung Tsangpo Grand Canyon lay in the eastern end of the Himalaya range, where the great Yarlung Tsangpo River turned south through the range, before dropping nearly ten thousand feet to the lower gorge and into northeastern India. With an average depth of nearly 7,500 feet, it was the deepest canyon on land, and was slightly longer than the American Grand Canyon. Despite the high elevation, the day was fairly warm, reaching into the low 70's. This was tapered somewhat by occasional light rain from the cloudy sky. While the rain was intermittent, it was enough that all of the vegetation in the forest covering the banks of the river in this stretch of the canyon was soaking wet. Veronica Danger moved through the wet vegetation, following after Davyd Palahniuk as he tracked through the forest. The young brunette was, as always, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts (black in this case), a linen Khaki button up short sleeve shirt worn over a grey T-shirt and a pair of well-worn hiking boots. However, given the rain and wet vegetation, Veronica had added a lightweight waterproof parka, which she had pulled out of her dimensional storage when the rain had started over an hour ago (providing similar parkas to her friends that wanted one). A short distance behind Veronica was the third member of the trio hiking through the forest, Louise (Lulu) Beaumont. While both Davyd and, more recently, Lulu, where employees of Danger International, when Veronica had asked for their assistance it was based on their friendship that went back to their first year together at Claremont Academy. The trio where hiking through this remote forest in search of any signs of Veronica's younger brother, Rex Danger III. The teenage Danger had been accompanying a group of scientist employed by Danger International conducting research in the canyon. Two days ago Rex had vanished from the base camp the scientists were working out of and had not been seen since.

Danger International Building Wading Way, Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday July 26, 2023 9:43 AM local time Lulu Beaumont found herself riding an express elevator to one of the upper floors of the building that housed the Freedom City offices of Danger International and the associated business and non-profits companies under the umbrella of that holding company owned by the family of her friends Veronica and Janus. The redhead was there for an appointment to meet with Veronica (the need for an appointment primarily being to ensure Veronica was actually in Freedom City, given her habit of regularly traveling to all corners of the world). The elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening and letting Lulu out into the reception area of the floors that housed the executive suites for Danger International and its various subsidiaries. It was little surprise the area was set up to impress. The large open space of the reception area had ceilings that rose a full two floors above. In the center where several comfortable leather couches and chairs, arranged in small clusters. Throughout the waiting area were various statutes and other artifacts from around the world, very likely items found by members of the Danger Family over the decades, perhaps some even uncovered by Johnny Danger himself. Ahead of Lulu was a long reception desk, behind which sat a couple of women in professional attire. To either side of the desk were stairways that wrapped up to the floor above, which divided from the towering open area of the reception area to what were likely office or meeting rooms. There were also two hallways (one to either side of the desk/stairs) which led back along the current floor as well. To either side of the room were large glass walls, enclosing large conference rooms and towering windows that looked out over the skyline of the Wading Way. To Lulu's right the view was of the three massive towers of Pyramid Plaza, while to the left were views toward the heart of the city center. As she made her way toward the reception desk, one of the women seated behind it looked up with a friendly smile. "How may I help you?" But before Lulu could answer, a familiar voice range out from behind the redhead. "It's alright Mary, I can see to Ms. Beaumont from here. She is meeting with Veronica." Turning around, Lulu saw Prudence (the often omnipresent personal assistant to Veronica and Janus during their time at Claremont) emerging from another hallway to one side of the bank of elevators. While Lulu knew Prudence would often "dress down" when in the field with Veronica, it was unsurprising that today she was dressed in impeccable business attire and glasses. As was so often the case, Prudence was holding a small iPad in one hand. "It is good to see you again Lulu." Prudence continued with a more familiar tone, offering the younger woman a genuine, yet professional, smile.

Lincoln, Freedom City, New Jersey Tuesday July 25, 2023 2:23 PM Lawrence Harrow pulled his parents' BWM iX electric SUV into the parking lot of the Cline Building, which was known to some as Freedom League Special Circumstances Housing. As someone who had grown up connected to the superhero community in Freedom City (let alone the son of a member of the Freedom League), Lawrence had visited the FLSCH quite a few times over the years, participating in fundraisers, community improvement projects and social mixers. Today the sixteen year old was here to meet Baltazar (Baz) Botez, who would be his roommate at Claremont Academy when the school year began in a couple months. The school had put the two in touch after it had decided to put them together in a room for the coming year and the pair had exchanged some emails and text messages. This would be the first time Lawrence would be meeting Baz in person. Stepping out of the SUV, the blond sixteen year old had a small box of pastries from a bakery in North Bay his mother liked in one hand. While is was only in the low 80's today, the humidity made it feel much warmer and Lawrence was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a blue T-shirt. Making his way into the building, Lawrence headed towards the elevators that would take him to the floor where Baz had his apartment.

GM Boston, Saturday 16th July The sun was high, the heat was high, the humidity was high. Plenty of fluids, sunscreen and shades were the order of the day. A tall, lanky girl dressed in baggy trousers and a crop top sat roasting in a park. She had an acoustic guitar on her knee, which she was strumming with considerable dexterity. She wasn't putting a lot of effort in - more of an idle strum, listening for new tunes, making up compositions, but the trained ear could tell she had remarkable skill with her fingerwork. Long, marfanoid fingers, bordering on the uncanny. The girl was maybe five nine, five ten, but even for that height her fingers looked about an inch too long for normal. The girl was Summer Sands. Olive skinned, brown eyed, long black hair without any style. One of those faces that was too odd to be beautiful, without being too weird to be ugly. A long face, with something wistful in her expression, something enigmatic in her style. She was, as they said, lost in music. She was also waiting for someone. Bernadette O'Connell Aka the merely magnificent Multi-Girl... Summer Sands wanted to enter the open mic upcoming talent show in Boston. And she had reached out to Bernadette. They both had the same music teacher. Summer had left Claremont two years ago. Summer was a T-Baby.

"So Vegas! F-ck Yeah!" Luke grinned enthusiastically, as he threw a glance at the map. It was a long way from Freedom City. Was it for a daring rescue, though? Chasing a dangerous mastermind? An ingenious heist? Nope for the nineteen years old, it was something way more important. Road Trip! Graduation was approaching and what better way to celebrate than an adventure. Now, they were both pretty much broke, had no ride, a continent to cross and... well... Luke dreaded to imagine what his best friend might have planned at an actual Casino. But those were just details, that the two still needed to iron out. Nothing that could not be decided in an afternoon, an amazingly short amount of time before the expected beginning of their journey in a messy dorm room with piles of half packed crowding out the place. @Spacefurry

Summer 2023 They were there for various reasons. Echohead and Predator had been contacted through their connections to the US government; Mirror Knight had been reached through a third-party contact. But they were all here in what was typically the main conference room of the Wharton State Forest's main ranger office, having been contacted by the New Jersey state police and asked to gather together with one of their top agents. There were light drinks and snacks and a fine view of thickly growing pine trees outside, a legacy of the nature heroine Fleur de Joie's recent visit to the park. But so far, nobody had come to join them yet.

June 13. 2023. Freedom City. Hanover. Terrifi-Labs. -Labs was the one bedroom apartment Terrifica had converted into her personal headquarters in Freedom City. She’d sent Patriot II the address after her little advertisement caught her attention. It made Terrifica perhaps a bit uncomfortable having a government agent knowing where she hung her hat, but whatever. So here they were. Sitting where, in any other apartment, would probably be the living room. Here it did double duty as the only public space. The actual dining room was full of electronics and technology. She slid a tablet across the table they were sitting at. Patriot, naturally, was seated on the opposite side of it. “Please confirm I have all of the details correct. Your scenario, the opponents, etcetera. You’re also confirming that you understand that this technology is, technically, in the experimental stages. My efforts may have reduced any risk to the miniscule, but it is still there.” She crossed her legs. “With that confirmed, we can go the next room and get started.”

Summer 2023 Bedlam City, WI Stone Ridge is one of the newest parts of Bedlam; and certainly one of its wealthiest. When the city descended into squalor and crime, the wealthiest fled here, bringing old money and new problems with them. Stone Ridge is not technically part of Bedlam; not even an incorporated community. That means that Bedlam PD doesn't patrol here, just a few underfunded county sheriff's deputies. The law around here is set by Iron Talon, an armed private security company that used to hire its contractors fresh off the planes returning from Iraq and Afghanistan - and now tends to go recruiting in veterans' hospitals and shelters and find men and women who don't quite fit into civilian life anymore for whatever reason. There's not very much street crime in Stone Ridge - the Iron Talon crew is infamous for brutality beyond even what the Bedlam PD dishes out, and anyone from outside the (almost all white) neighborhood is liable to get into a lot of trouble even if they're just there to look at a new house or deliver a package. They tend to go in guns blazing when they see a superhero; which has kept many of Bedlam's erstwhile costumed defenders out. Not because they're in danger - but because everyone else is when they're there. Pete Moss has been working for Iron Talon for a couple of years now; even since he got clean. He's a veteran who didn't come back quite right from Afghanistan, even if the most dangerous thing he did was fix cars in an Army motor pool in Kabul - war will do that to people sometimes. He doesn't do any head-breaking; he just works on their private impound lot. He and Rev were an item back when he drank but he's closed off since, taking the firm position that he needed to leave behind everything from his old life if he was going to get better. The shop has been closed for hours when Rev's phone rings with Pete's cell number, but she's still working on a car - funny how that works out.

GM July 4th, 2023, 6.37PM Pacific Ocean, 50 nautical miles from the Oregon coast Blackstaff The conclusion was as inescapable as it was impossible to accept: under the cold, leaden weight of the Peaceful Ocean, far below the light of the life-giving Sun, the machinations of equally antipyrated hearts had created a dark edifice, a visage, a mask of stone through which eyes alien and incorporeal could peer into the brimming, oblivious swarms of life, and decide their fate by measures impossible for any brain thwarted by a linear existence to comprehend. And now its worshippers gathered, to pledge a fealty as mad as it was undying, to defend it against the feeble struggles of the pale things which sought to avoid their inevitable fate. On the other hand, the PanStar representative had been very eager to make clear that the Deep Ones needn't necessarily be killed, and a diplomatic resolution that allowed them to move their camoflagued underwater surveillance module away from the temple-reef sonar pulses had uncovered would be more than acceptable. And now here he was, on a small, fast boat equipped with diving gear, heading for the locus of unearthly phenomena with only his thoughts, two stolidly uniformed representatives from the Brande Management Security Company, a three-man crew, and a captain constantly dropping by to check how he was doing to fill the anxious hour. Captain Cosmos "We can't thank you enough, Captain Cosmos!" the co-pilot of Singapore Airlines flight 56SO shook the hero's hand fervently, still panting a little from the exhilaration of the last few minutes. Behind him, the plane windows opened on the beautiful sight of the Oregon and Washington coasts, the cloud-strewn Atlas Mountains, the Emerald Cities nestled beneath the peaks on the banks of a wide, slow Columbia River. "I know I can't, they're likely gone forever, but I'd still like to thank Science Communicator Buddy and Labour Activist Buddy for all they did to help us with that bomb, and that near-riot on the second floor." "Approaching the site of the distress call," announced Captain Sen, looking much better without the tape the now-unconscious Overthrow agent had swathed him in, "I believe this is your stop, Captain Cosmos. I took the liberty of contacting the local Coast Guard, in case they need more help than we did." He couldn't help but smirk, though he did a good job hiding it. "Best of luck to you, Captain. If you're ever in Changi, look me up, Jai Sen!"

4th June, 2023 (Saturday) Around midday. Hot, clear skies. Sweat in the air, rot on the ground. Southside Trailer Park A festering sore on the flesh of Freedom City. A hive of homelessness, alcoholism, poverty and despair. And, on occasion, crime. There was little to be gained by the big crime gangs here, so instead the petty thief, the petty drug pusher, the petty mugger thrived. Luke Landers knew them all. He knew Billy Wiggins. Billy wiggins was currently sprawled over a rotten discarded sofa, the rusted springs threatening to impale his corpulent flesh with every wobble of his body. Billy Wiggins was forty, fat, and alcoholic. For some reason, his dog, Snuffler, sat by his legs, the only living creature who seemed to tolerate Billy for more than brief encounters. Aside from the mosquitoes that dined on Billy Wiggins flesh. The sunburnt neck, the sunburnt arms, the belly that wrestled free from the bottom of a stained t shirt. As normal, Billy Wiggins was drunk. Crushed tins of beers littered the broken earth around the sofa, and he held a half empty one on his hand. “Fatso being snoring!” laughed Huckleberry Sin, the 8 year old barefoot redneck who darted around the trailer park stealing and pranking. Many people would like to tank Huckle’s hide, but he was faster than a cockroach on wheels. Huckles pointed at Billy Wiggins and laughed again, encouraging Luke Landers to join in. “Saying he gonna be rich. Say’s his brother going to steal a mountain of gold! Haha! In his fat bottomed dreams!”

GM 1st June Mid morning Lecture: Violent Death - From theory to practice, Doctor Getrude Whallington-Bridgecastle Dr GWB welcomed the group of four Forensic science students into the cold air and metal furnishings of the morgue. Lamentably, there was only one corpse to examine, a rarity in Freedom City. The consensus opinion that Dr GWB was a stiff, prentetious and deeply clever pathologist who had a reputation for marking exams harshly, and being just as harsh in her teaching sessions. And yet, she had the deep knowledge and occasional acidic wit that kept her in her job. She clearly was somewhat aggreived that she only had once cadaver on which to wax lyrical, but she was determined to make do. The dead body was clearly a thug. Tattoo's of skulls, machete's, dancing skeletons and murder. Scars from knife fights, dreadlocks, dark brown skin, medallions - this was presumably a member of some Carribean-origin gang. A Yardie. Even the most inexperienced student amongst the four could give a good guess at the mode of death. The corpse had the centre of his chest blown out - a ten inch diameter hole straight through. Looked like a shotgun blast. At close range. "So, who would like to walk us through the preliminary examination?" asked Dr GWB, her eyebrows raised in challenge, peering over her rimmed glasses, her bronze hair wound tightly into a bun. Her hands gripped a clip board and pen in eager anticipation. She would be taking notes...