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Fall 2019 8PM The night of Sea Devil's talk in Dagon the King The reception had mostly, but not entirely, cleared out. Aquaria had seriously considered skipping it but the food was free and she never would turn down free fish. She'd stood by the snack table, picking up kippers and eating them like a Surfacer would eat canapes, and chatted with a few faculty and students who were interested in what she had to say. By the end of the evening she was feeling, perhaps not perfect, but better. Some few of those who had come had been willing to listen, and even that Atlantean prince had been willing to sing to her for a little while. Even if he has no manners. Sweetest of the Fallen indeed! But now the Atlanteans were gone and it was just the monster and the men, and some of the students were milling around with the knowledge that curfew didn't technically apply if you were attending an on-campus event like this.

Claremont, Freedom City September 2, 2019 11:00 AM Mia sighed to herself as they ascended the stairs up to her new dorm. Most kids got something like a game console for their birthdays, instead she got the gift of boarding school. Which, in her opinion (which she respected very much), was rather stupid when both parents were still living in the city but somehow both her mom and dad had agreed that it would be “good for her” to live away from home. How, exactly, it would be good for her escaped her at the moment, but she was sure her parents could come up with some post-hoc justification. Her grandfather, Ahmed Mustafic, huffed and puffed behind her, carrying several boxes as he climbed the stairs. He was shorter than average, only standing 5’07”, with black hair and a thick broom like mustache. Considering how much darker he was than her, the only real sign that they were related, in her opinion, was their shared grey eyes. She turned to him, frowning. “You know, babo, you didn’t have to do this. I could have just teleported,” she said. “I have like… a dimensional storage thing, too.” Ahmed waved his free hand. “Nonsense!” he said, the faint traces of a Bosniak accent still clinging on despite decades in the USA. “I wanted to be here for you for your first day, sweetbean. At least to see you off, yes?” Mia sighed, and smiled. “I love you, babo.” “Good!” Ahmed responded. “That’s all I need.” They continued their climb until they made it to the third floor. They passed through the halls until they finally made it to room 302. Mia set down her guitar case and the box she was carrying, and knocked on the door. “Anyone home? I’m… This is the room I was assigned to. I’m here with my granddad, he’s helping me move in.”

Raya's apartment, Emerald City, Oregon September 30, 2019 Morning Groggily, Raya opened her eyes to find herself staring up at her ceiling. There was a slight throbbing in her temples, and her mouth was dry and tasted like salt and alcohol. Shifting, she felt a presence next to her, and turned to see a slumbering face next to her. A smile crept over Raya's lips, but it faded following a sharp spear of a headache running through her skull. Sighing, she sat up, and saw three empty bottles of champagne sitting next to a bucket full of water and some rapidly disappearing ice cubes. "Ah, man... Those are like a thousand bucks each..." After giving herself a moment to chastise herself, she rose from bed and went over to her drawer. Looking in mirror atop it, she saw her hair had gotten wild and her eyes were slightly red. She shrugged, and pulled on some stretch pants and a Compass Rose sweater that dropped down off her left shoulder. She wandered into her vast living room, taking a look at the Emerald City skyline from her windows, before flopping down on her leather couch in front of her coffee table, and more importantly, her 150 inch TV. Her setup was impressive in the living room, art pieces and trophies from adventures hanging on the walls. A Brazilian flag sat between two abstract pieced, a little reminder of her heritage. "Hey, SmartHome... Start morning routine, and place an order for two fiesta breakfasts for room service," she croaked, rubbing at her eyes. She saw a small flash of light from a device on her coffee table, and it chirped "Alright. Done." Raya heard the hiss of her percolator coming to life, and sank deeper into her seat. Flipping on the TV, she called up Netflix and began to watch her 'toons as she waited for her new companion to wake up.

GM August 21st, 2019 5:45 PM Wharton State Forest It had sprung up seemingly over night. A labyrinth, in the middle of Wharton State Forest, with pathways made from bushes and trees, the kind that it would take years to grow into place. But well, this place? The entrance was a big, with a large arch made out of the same bushes and trees and interlocking leaves as the rest of the maze. Large letters in a cream white color, in a vaguely Greek font, spelled out "MAZES AND MINOTAURS" at the top of the arch. A lot of people had gathered, some had entered, a lot of people just standing around outside. It was a strange thing, sure, but this was Freedom City, so it wasn't that strange, was it now? On the other hand, one Moira Morley had received an invite. A letter that had arrived at Morley's Pub, adressed to her, with golden letters on the front. It read: "COME FOR ADVENTURE AND FUN, AT THE BRAND NEW MAZES AND MINOTAURS! SPECIAL EVENT, JUST FOR YOU!" Could she pass that up? Maybe, maybe not.

West End, Freedom City Fall 2019 6:30 PM The Meta-Naut Raya sighed to herself as she drove up to ‘Morley’s Pub.’ Normally, she had a driver, so parking on the street across from it was something of a nightmare. She would have kept the driver, but that seemed unnecessarily showy. Then again, wasn’t flying all the way to Freedom City just for a date pretty showy too? Oh well, didn’t matter now. Not like she could go back. At least not without being super weird. She sighed, leaning back in her seat, and pulled out her phone. She hoped the car she had rented wasn’t too ostentatious. It was a Black BMW-5 series. A luxury car that didn’t necessarily scream it. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and checked her makeup one last time before she opened up her text messages and began to hammer away at a text. Wanting to make sure that she was noticed, she stepped out front of the car and waited, staring at the pub. She didn’t want to go inside, really. Too many people and she’d feel awkward about not buying anything. Raya was dressed for the occasion, wearing a pink pant-suit with a light purple shirt underneath, her lips painted the same colour as her shirt and her eyeliner winged. She was wearing faux-crocskin black flats, since she didn’t want to be in heels all night. She’d even had her hair touched up, though it was in the same style as always, the left side of her head cut into short lazer lines while the rest of her hair was longer and flopped to the side. She hoped she hadn’t overdone it.

As time flowed, Moira and Estelle got... content with each other. They grew close. And that was fine for both women. But each knew they were not the settling down type. They had their love, but it was time to go their separate ways. With that, Moira caught a plane ticket to her old stomping grounds. Freedom City was like a big palette cleanser for Moira. It was her youth tied up with everything that made the world great. Not all of it though. But then you have the power to change things in Freedom City. From the smallest to the greatest. It's the reason she always had ties here. Unfortunately some ties got looser, but she would always remember them. First visit was to her home she always had. To check in on her father, the temple, and of course, Morleys pub. That was something she would fight for until her dying breath. Family. Even if Sean wasn't her biological father, he was her father. Ares was the type you went to when you wanted training or a fight. Sean was the one you went to when you wanted comfort and daddy's advice. Second visit was around the West End catching up on talk and people, but mostly, she wanted to see Lynn. The friend she'd always have. Plus, perching with her was always awesome. Well, if she'd allow. Moira looked at the last text she sent to Lynn. Half spelled out 'be back next weekend, love you' followed by a few emojis. That was last year. She sighed. It was almost indicative of her to be that flighty. Still it was fun. She sighed, shaking her head, followed by a quiet laugh. There was Lynn's door. It was Friday after hours. Knocking was purely customary, as she tried to open the door afterward. "Hey, anyone home? I brought the good stuff!"

Stomping through the airlock Fa'Rua slammed a fist against the close and cycle button and strode purposefully toward the cockpit. Her face was a stormy mask of seething outrage as she made her way through the ship. Jolan looked up from his console questioningly and sighed, "I take it then the interview did not go as planned?" He didn't need a diplomats training to see the truth in his words, nor a twins bond. He'd felt the oncoming storm since she left the colonial scout corps offices of course. So he wasn't surprised at her demeanor and had practiced carefully a response, "Fa'Rua such things always happen for a .." ""Don't you say reason." she coldly cut him off as she slung into the pilot seat, "Buckle up, I'll show them who can't perform under pressure." and slammed the emergency docking release. "I hardly think exiting the base without tower consent is going to improv...." Her brother didn't get a chance to finish before the ship dropped occ eht docking ring and she punched the engines to max quickly overriding the inertial dampeners to press them both into their seats. Over traffic controls complaints she wove effortlessly through the heavy traffic and shot free of the station making for the system rim as the computer started the jump calculations needed. As soon as they broke the heliosphere there was teh lurching twisting sensation of the space fold and they were flung thousands do parsecs to a distant lifeless system, "I don't want to talk about it Jolan." she growled as she stood and stopped toward the rear of hte ship, "I'll be in my bunk start the long distance scans." Flinging herself onto her bunk she glared death at the bulkhead for a long minute before flipping open her com pad and sliding into private mode. She flipped through the recent photos and conversations and let out sigh and thumbed open the chat window again. Hey you. You around. She hadn't bothered to check the terran time before sending the message. Nor did she wait for a response before continuing. What in the void is wrong with men. Why do they expect us to be twice as good as some square jawed jock still trying to figure out how to hold his flight stick to even consider us competent. Temperament under pressure my sweet ass. I'm under more pressure getting up in the morning then these old men have seen on their worst day. Sorry if you're busy I just needed to vent to someone who might get it and not spout platitudes. The messages came in fast and would leave whatever device Ashley had set to receive them buzzing enough to likely draw more than just the owners attention if she wasn't alone.

GM FCU June 10, 2019, 2am Maggie Rayburn was pulling a late night again. Internally, she chastised herself for leaving her paper to the last minute, but for some reason someone always seemed to be throwing a party on the nights she planned to work. Now, she had burned through her last extension and found herself staring at her laptop screen, trying to summon up the will to finish on time. She sighed, watching the cursor blink, and rubbed her temples. She could feel a headache brewing. Her eyes drifted down to the clock on her taskbar. 2am. Maybe a mocha would give her the energy she needed. She rolled her chair back from her desk and stood up. She looked down at her stained sweatpants, and wondered if she should change. Nah. She moved over to her desk and grabbed her wallet and keys, before cramming her feet in her high-tops and headed out the door. There had been talks of attacks at night around campus, but the parking lot wasn’t far and besides, Maggie had a can of mace so severe you could use it to blind a bear. Still, as she stepped out into the night air, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of fear run up her spine. She steeled herself, reminding herself that if she was scared now, Professor Xiu was infinitely scarier. She needed this coffee. She resolved to simply walk briskly, just in case. By the time she made it to the warm halogen glow of the parking lot, Maggie was sighing relief. She made her way to her car, laughing at herself for worrying at all. Yet as she went to slide her key into the car door, she felt a sudden pulse like frozen electricity through her body. She froze, her body unable to move except for the most minimal twitches and jerks as something gripped her from within her mind. She tried to scream, but her lungs and throat refused to cooperate. She could not so much as move her eyes, leaving her view locked onto her car door windshield, and the reflection of the figure that approved behind her. The distorted image was humanoid, a black shape with great white spheres for eyes. She could see it extending its hand out to her, and once more she tried to struggle, to move, to do anything. But she could not. She felt tears come unbidden to her eyes as the figure extended its hand, and laid its icy cold fingertips on her forehead. Somewhere in the bowels of her mind, Maggie could swore she heard something speak. “What a waste of a mind, Ms. Rayburn…” Then, there was another jolt through her, and Maggie felt everything go blurry. -- Zeb Simms sipped his coffee, feet up on the front security desk. Overnights paid well, but they were almost unbearably boring. If he wasn’t saving up for that new boat, he'd probably take a new shift entirely. Still, at the very least, it was usually pretty peaceful aside from the occasional too-young-to-drink-but-drunk-anyway college kid. His peace was disturbed, however, by a banging on the door. Zeb looked up from his coffee to see a pretty little blonde girl just going at it on the glass door. Her face was red, and it looked like she was crying. Immediately, Zeb mind raced to the worst and he immediately got up off his butt and rushed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. He didn’t even have time to ask what was wrong before the girl threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him, burying her face deep into his shirt and sobbing. Rather than try and stop her, Zeb simply let her hold him and cry it out. Finally, after an uncomfortable few minutes, the girl looked up at him, sniffling and snorting. “I-I can’ read what's on the door… I… I used bu' I can anymo'…” she moaned. Zeb blinked, then looked over at the door. In bright, friendly letters were the words “FCU Building C”. He looked down at the girl, confused for a moment. Then a horrible realization rolled over him like a wave. “Oh, no, honey,” he said softly. “Oh I am so sorry…” He pulled his radio free from his hip, and called in. “Yeah, uhm... I got a report… Uh… damn. We got another one.”

Riverfront August 5, 4:10 PM GM It was a fairly standard afternoon in the Riverfront. The cars pushed along, their drivers eager to get out of the downtown and retreat to the suburbs where they lived. The heat made things slightly sticky, only encouraging people to want to vacate faster. The sidewalks similarly were lined with people going about their daily business, entranced by their phones and latest purchases. Yet in one alley, there was something quite un-standard. It started as a small pulse of light, before the air in the alley began to ripple and shudder. For only a split-second, that light became a crack in the border between worlds and just as soon, it was gone. In its place stood a man clothed in the stereotypical outfit of a burglar: A black-and-white striped shirt, a black beanie, a domino mask, and black pants. In his left hand, he held a strange-looking gun - shaped like a ray gun from 1950s sci-fi movies, it was coloured shiny gold and covered in dials and meters. “Myah!” He cried. “I did it! They thought it would not work, but they were fools to doubt Captain Crime, who breaks even the laws of causality!” His victorious gloating was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Captain Crime turned to see a young man, dressed in a black polo with khaki pants and a similar apron, carrying a bag of trash. The young man stopped, and stared at Captain Crime. “Uh… You lost?” he asked. Crime smiled, and raised his pistol. The young man backed away, raising his hands. “Hey, now, buddy, we can talk ab--AAA!” His high pitched-shriek intermingled with the sound of a laser blast, the light of which enveloped his whole body. When the beam had faded, the young man had changed. Now he was dressed in an open, sleeveless leather vest, along with torn up jeans and combat boots. What had once been a fairly neat blond undercut was now a lime green mohawk. He stood still for a moment, looking at his surroundings, before a cruel grin crossed his face. “Eyyy,” he said. “Now this is nice. Hey, boss, you wanna go and mess some stuff up?” Captain Crime’s grin grew wider. “Oh, oh yes, my felonious friend, I do.”

Location: Freedom Hall, Freedom City Date: Thursday, July 25, 2019: 1:37 PM FREEDOM LEAGUE TO ANNOUNCE NEW LINE UP AND ANSWER QUESTIONS: 2:00 PM Outside of the shining walls of Freedom Hall, a small crowd of interested onlookers formed up behind press. Staff were making sure that any random bystanders were finding a place in the crowd, overseen by Cynthia. For once, the lobby and reception area were closed to the public while everything was set up. It had been a gradual transition, in many ways, as the vanguard of the League retired and handed off their duties one by one to the former Auxiliary members. It was known, really, that these heroes had become the New Freedom League, but this would be the first official press conference, confirming the retirement of many of Freedom's best and most beloved and the rise of their new League. A lot of work went into those preparations, most of it by staff but the heroes were busy themselves. After all, there were speeches to be made, questions that would have to be answered and not all the press invited was all that friendly. There were bound to be hostile reporters looking for gossip or tidbits to make their headlines pop. Plus, after the press conference, there was to be a reception open to any who might visit Freedom Hall and their old-but-new heroes. Of course, planning a party for 'any who might show up' would have been enough to keep staff busy. Leilani slipped between two harried staff members to offer Dimitri the notecards that were supposed to be his script. No doubt, he'd find some place new to discard them. She wasn't in costume as Leilani was here to join the crowd with the other interested on-lookers although she'd probably end up drafted by staff to help set tables and other minutuae when the League went out to talk. Raising her voice so that it would be heard, Leilani offered, "Cynthia says its ten minutes to showtime."

Fall 2019 The message came in from an alien on a distant planet in the depths of space - but then most of them did when you were in the Scout Service. Can i ask you something personal?

The Rooftop Castle on the DuTemps Building. Friday, July 26th, 2019. 7:04 pm As first dates went for Casey Blankenship, this was the first; sure, she 'dated' Tim Krieger freshman year back in Colorado Springs, but that was mostly holding hands at Summer Bible Camp. She hadn't dated at all at Claremont, and despite the efforts of her sorority sisters, she'd yet to date anyone at FCU. But something about this new website intrigued her; just knowing your date was, well, different, somehow made everything much easier. She scanned the 'Men Looking For Women' listings in a matter of seconds, but only one listing really caught her eye. This Morgan, though... Messages were exchanged, a date was planned, somehow. Casey didn't want her date to feel uncomfortable, and they both flew, so she blurted out the one rooftop she knew in Freedom that combined an amazing view with a garden. A quick phone call to a simply delighted Daphne assured her that it would be 'totally fine' to meet her date on top the DuTemps Castle in time to eat while the sun set. Having no idea how normal people dated, the blonde powerhouse announced she'd bring the food, which thrust her into Martha Stewart mode; by 7pm, she had two folding chairs and a collapsible table set up, with a red and white tablecloth and a big wicker picnic basket. Since her date knew she was a hero, Casey opted to skip her glasses and wear her hair down; she'd picked a dark blue party dress she really liked, and did her best to not check her watch every five seconds, as she sat in a chair with her long legs crossed.

-The loud, heart-stopping sounds of an explosion and shattering glass along with the accompanying shock strike around the cities without warning. Within moments, a strange cloud of silvery mist blankets the surrounding area. Just as panic and flight are about to take hold, the cloud begins to swirl without any evident prompting from the wind. It whips itself into a cyclonic mass, discharging what appear to be bolts of bluish lightning both within itself and outward around its immediate vicinity. Both blast and bolts subside and begin to dissipate before anyone can arrive on the scene, leaving the dead and injured as the most immediate concern. The scene is filled with fleeing, panicked crowds and hopelessly jammed roads. The bridges connecting the city have collapsed. Sister cities orphaned from one another- Island View Emerald City, WashingtonSaturday, August 26, 20196:00 PM North Emerald, the Gem of the Columbia, in many ways the city could be a throwback to the past. Built around its rather sizeable military presence, North Emerald had all the comforts of a medium size town, with none of the flash of its Southern neighbor. Even the presence of Archetech West didn't take away from uneventful presence that the city. It was the second day of Sound and Fury, Emerald City's annual 3 day music festival. A migrating Festival that always started in Bridge Point and ended in Island View. The air was entirely harmonious. And then the Storm struck. Bolts attacking overhead with a furor not seen since the the Columbus Day Storm of 1962. Even then this was nothing like the storm. The military was quick to send out soldiers to act as support for emergency responders. But, there were so many emergencies. It was hard to picture anyone making their way to the farmland in Island View. The locals had come together, many taking shelter at predetermined locations. But looters, fires, and a very violent pack of feral hogs moving in a dedicated trail towards the center of Island View were the current norm. Island View was not only the birthplace of Emerald City. It was also home to the city's Native American Cultural Center. The local hip hop stars the LongBowz, were aiming to headline the closing of the festival tomorrow at the very same cultural center. That was until they were spotted being forcefully dragged inside the museum through the local television stations before the feed cut off. North Emerald was in a state of chaos.

September 4, 2019 Vibora Bay, Florida 11PM It's a dark and stormy night. This sort of thing happens a lot in Florida. As Dorian rolled up on the east coast of Florida like God's own judgement, the people of Vibora Bay remembered Michael last year and took action. Some people left, some people stayed home, and everyone mourned all those lovely tourist dollars that _could_ have come the city's way during the ruined Labor Day weekend. As it is, by all accounts Vibora is going to come through this one better than people feared. Having spent his wrath against the east coast, Dorian is rain, lightning, and high winds, but not the near-apocalypse that was last fall's city-wrecking storm. On the other hand, that's bad enough! Six inches of rain and high winds closed the schools and universities today, and most businesses shut down too. Mayor Barker (who weathered the last storm with flying colors) was on Channel 7 last night to tell the citizens of Vibora to be ready for anything. They have to be, because nobody's going anywhere with all this rain. The traffic's always bad in the Panhandle though, especially on the spur that takes you up to the big west-east Interstate 10, so people in Walton County have a lot of experience with sheltering in place. People facing floods have moved into city-run shelters - many public buildings are full of people. Red Cross workers and other volunteers are on the scene - though most of them are actually out of town helping with the aftereffects of Dorian further east. Many streets are impassable, the beaches are closed, and rescue crews and emergency personnel are on high alert. Things are bad - but not quite hero bad. The last you heard, Siren went east to help with the aftermath of the storm there - it's just the hometown heroes on the scene today. Around 11 o'clock at night, just as trusty local weatherman Tom Bonilla appeared on your screens to give you the latest tracking information on Dorian, there's a tremendous flash of lightning and clap of thunder that booms across the metropolis - and from Seagrove to Rosemary Beach, the city's power goes dark. - The University of Florida - Vibora Bay Outside Gibbs Residence Hall "Go to Hell!" In the rain and lightning, two men were yelling at each other in the shelter of the brick patio in front of the old residence hall. "So you've been down here this whole time, spying on me!?" Riley was shouting at his double, heedless in his anger of the other's physical prowess. "I told you before - I do not need your help! I never will!" "...fine." Riley didn't shout back at his double, he didn't even punch him in the face. He turned and walked away, pulling up his poncho as sheets of rain cascaded down onto him, the winds so strong he felt them buffet him as he walked out onto the campus parking lot where he'd stashed his bike. It wasn't good biking weather but if you knew what you were doing and could see in the dark, you could get through fine - even dodge the cops if you took the backroads. Good thing the roads to the swamp hadn't actually flooded yet. Riley got on his bike, grabbed the handlebars - and closed his eyes for a long, hard moment. No. No, hell, no, I am not going to do that. He opened them again and revved his engine with a rumble so deep he could feel it between his legs far more than he heard it. If he was going to get back home, he needed to leave right now. He clicked on his headlamp - and suddenly, there was a flash of light in the sky, and a deep boom, and the campus streetlights winked out. Adjusting his shoulder bag, Riley permitted himself a sigh.

Mid-July 2019 The summons had gone out to a variety of heroes - come to Freedom Hall at such and such a time on such and such a date for a meeting with Comrade Frost in the League satellite. Some had gotten the message personally in intimate conversation with the ex-Soviet, some had gotten it through professional correspondence. A uniformed League employee had shuttled them all inside the Hall and to its teleporter, where now (if Frost's calculations were correct) they were all about to arrive! When the flash and noise of teleportation were over, Frost spread his arms, producing a slight chill in the air in the metal-walled room that looked a bit like something out of Star Trek - if you ignored the big transparent window to one side that showed the Earth below. "Welcome to space! Feel free to ogle Central America if interested," he declared in his distinct Russian accent.

Wednesday, June 19th, 2019, 10:30 pm The abode of Mona Teymourian, near the Waterfront "She was adorable, Viktor," drifted from the kitchen area. "I know she wouldn't want to be described as such, but she was. The third heroine to wear the name Rossignol! A very sweet young woman, obviously quite skilled, but still finding her bearings. I wished her the very best and gave her my contact information." Mona was unusually chatty, even gregarious. Viktor's arrival seemed to complete her day, and she was eager to recount the highlights. So after a quick kiss, she regaled him with the latest happenings while unpacking groceries. "Do you want something to drink? I picked up some of that white tea you seemed to like." One mock glare later and she started an electric kettle. "Also some Black Death coffee, pomegranate kombucha, and a lovely micro-brew stout. A bit light on snacks at the moment. Some brie?" The sounds of activity reverberated through the high-ceiling building. The space was big, certainly, with metal beams and rows of high, paneled windows above exposed brick. Perhaps, oh, a quarter had been converted into an open living space with a kitchen, adjacent seating area, curtained-off bedroom, and bath. The rest was devoted to her studio. Ghostly shapes of dust-clothed sculptures floated in the dim lights. Her workstation, an explosion of bright colors, seemed to glow through the murk. Even after months away, the place smelled of oil paint and stone dust. Mona had been very proud of her handiwork. From a tour now many years ago, the fixtures and furnishings were secondhand or recycled, and Mona had bartered or DIY-ed much of the renovation. The original purpose, an ice warehouse, was abundantly clear from the Linden's Ice sign on the wall. The foundation and roof work were her doing, and superhuman strength proved a great boon in that regard. The crumbling antique had been picked up for a song. She had rather sheepishly admitted to being quite broke at the time. The way her eyes lit up here, in this place, spoke volumes. The expression was much the same when seeing Viktor after a long absence. As for now though, Mona deposited a tray of goodies on the coffee table. The little table was surrounded by a sofa and two armchairs. One chair stood out a bit: high-backed, Mona-sized, and eye-searingly pink. This one she drifted into tea cup in hand. "Damn, it's good to be home. How was your trip?"

Fall 2019 Claremont Academy 6PM There was quite the crowd gathering for this year's first Ambassador Talk, both among Claremont students and the occasional adult parent or guardian who had turned up for what promised to be a very special talk. Everyone knew who was coming - Aquaria Innsmouth, the first Deep One superhero! The word 'first' had been used with some vigor when faculty were talking up the event to students, Attendance was by no means mandatory, and many students (such as Watchdog and Daystar) were skipping it either out of personal conviction or taco night, but there were good snacks in the upper galleries of the big classroom that was usually used for the big first-year classes. Headmistress Summers was on the scene, standing up by the snacks to greet new people as they arrived, and (along with a few teachers) keeping an eye on students, guests, and guests of honor. She was currently having an argument with one of the second of those three. "That you would subject a prince of the blood to this appalling display is one of the most deplorable things I have ever heard." General Dalekos had come dressed as a Surfaceman for this event, albeit with the rumpled look of a man not quite used to this particular fashion. "The embassy will certainly hear of this." "Prince Telemachus," the young Atlantean princeling was staring straight ahead in the second row, and looking desperately as though like he was trying to pretend he couldn't hear the Atlantean general arguing with his headmistress, "is here by choice - and by his family's permission," said Summers frostily. "Just as you are here out of courtesy in your role as loco parentis to our Atlantean students." She murmured something else - and then, his face flushing scarlet, the general took a seat in the upper tier among the other visitors for the talk. As more students entered, Summers and other faculty greeted them by name and pointed them to their seats. "Our guest of honor will be arriving soon."

The Dream Dimension Saint Agnes Day (21st January 2019) One benefit of training in the mystic arts was an awareness of when you were dreaming, so it made it difficult to be surprised to enter the dreamscape. So it was a double surprise to Rosa that not only did she go from her meditations, but she was also in a house that looked straight out of the ‘50’s. But her sharp mind wouldn’t allow her to be totally stunned, so she got up from her meditation and began to explore the house. She was of course in the kitchen, full of the wholesome smells of baking cookies, looking to all the world like a wholesome housewife. Rosa, however, knew better, her mystical senses told her she wasn’t who she seemed. The trefoil flames on their gingham dress were a nice touch as well! “I assume I’m here for a good reason?” she took a bite of one of the cookies, luckily here she could eat without problems. “I assume you know about my daughter?” “I believe you have several, all lovely despots I’m sure!” There was a flash of anger in the “mom’s” eye’s, but she bit the anger down with a fake smile. Even without Liam’s social skills, she could read the mood. “One was taken from me before she could complete her training, I need someone to show her the mystical realm. Show her the realm, ending with my own and I’ll give you what you want, freedom from your bounds to Bedlam...”

Summer 2019 Suddenly the door to the conference room opened, and a man entered. Well, depending on your definition thereof. Both Miracle Girl and Fulcrum had heard of the fate of Captain Thunder's son Bolt, the electric speedster and Claremont alum who'd recently been the victim of a horrific attack that had left him permanently transformed into energy now possessing a high-end robot. Bolt hadn't bothered with the kind of android features used by mechanical heroes before him; he had a featureless blue face and metallic body, with long blue cape behind him. "Hello, Miracle Girl, Fulcrum." He cocked his featureless head, then sat down at the head of the table. "Before we start," he said, his modulated voice serious. "I want to let you know that it wasn't my idea to do it this way, and I hope you won't hold it against me. Now!" he added, his voice suddenly light. "Tell me about yourselves."

Summer 2019 Suddenly, the station gave a great lurch beneath Terrifica and Salvo's feet, making both women stumble - a moment before suddenly everything in the room rushed up against the ceiling with bone-crushing force, then back down again at equal velocity. There was no glass here in this futuristic station, but there was the sound of crunching metal and plastic as monitors and equipment shattered from the sudden strain of gravity reversed, then restored, then failed! Even an end to the violence didn't bring peace; everything was floating now in the sudden arrival of microgravity, and alarms and a recorded voiceover were clearly blaring "Warning! Systems Failure! Systems Failure! Skinbreach protocol in place!" as red lights lit up around the room's door - which had noisily thunked shut with a sound you didn't need to be a supergenius to recognize as an automatic doorlock. From outside came a distinct rumbling sound.

GM July 1st, 2019, 4.51PM Lor Diplomatic Navy vessel A Grace in Steel, in orbit of Xix Yr, first planet and capital of the Lia system civilization... The meeting room was structured along clearly hierarchal lines, in contrast to the more egalitarian architecture of the Science Navy ship that had carried the Earth teens to the Lia system. The Ambassador's seat was elevated by a few significant steps, the room arcing inward from there, encompassing a torus-shaped table. Everything was birds, from the Great Galactic Bird blazing across the walls and ceiling to the bird-shaped chairs with crossed wings for backs to the furred and snuffling eagle-like creatures that appeared from nowhere to snuggle against the legs of everyone in the room. From his seat, poised as if about to take flight himself, the Ambassador spoke. "...which is why Squire B'ka will not be joining us! Hopefully your visit to Xix will be less eventful! On behalf of the Coalition Council, and the worlds it represents, welcome to the galactic community!" Ambassador Ortilac already looked angelic with his sweeping red wings, long gold hair and dazzling white formal gown; his outright glow of joy at meeting the 'Terresi' teenagers was infectious, and the previously stern and solemn Lor Navy personnel had been suppressing grins at the excitable envoy throughout his welcoming speech, which had veered spectacularly from the Ealan's dignified, practical notes into vivid speculation about the glories to be seen, the wonders created and the almost frighteningly-rosy picture of the future Ambassador Ortilac believed in. Luckily, he had very easily been dissuaded from trying to hug everyone in glee at paragraph breaks. With a wing, he indicated the armored feline at the table "Squire Kath'lana, of the Star Knights," with the other he gestured to the armored Earth woman and her strange, robotic associate "Sitara the Traveler, and Universal Field Operative 777, of our Praetorians. These good people have agreed to be present at this, the final stage of union with our newest member. For form's sake, the Li have requested we only meet them face to face on the planet surface. I promise, you won't be disappointed!" The ambassdor's ash-grey face creased as his grin returned. He leaned back in the chair, nodding to the assembled officers, dignitaries and Claremont students. "So, any questions?" "Dozens, Ambassador, but they can wait." Dr. Rakesh Chawla never smiled, but he especially didn't around people as gregarious as Ortilac. Cold and quiet, the Claremont head of Extrasolar Studies had been watching his students like a hawk's keener-eyed and more vigilant cousin, keeping the party firmly on track and where, in his mind, everyone was supposed to be. His uncanny talent for finding people just in time to spoil things hadn't endeared him to the teenagers, and even the Lor found the brooding young man hard to get along with. Rakesh glanced at the Claremont students "I am sure the young heroes have questions, however, that can't wait. Not you, Leroy," he added with a sharp look at the tattooed boy who'd started to jump up, arm raised, causing him to wilt in disappointment, "you have done enough damage for today. I will be writing to your mother about that, rest assured." Seated beside Nicole, the gravity-bending prince of Earth-2 practically sunk into his chair. "I merely wished to know where the bathroom was" he murmured in utter dejection, golden eyes fixed miserably on the table.

Evening 09/14/2019 Earth Time Inner orbital rings Psi2 Piscium and Claremont Academy Fa'Rua looked down at the scanner bank again them to the ships chronometer with a heavy sigh. Hours yet until she could wake Jolan for his shift. Hours longer before the ships scanner array confirmed this was another lifeless system with minimal resources and no viable colonial options. She thumbed open the Extranet Connection and drifted through the articles about the rebuilding efforts and rising crime on CoVic before closing the browser in disgust at the discourse around the Lor Senate elections. After another long minute of staring at the crawling progress of the scanner she popped the 'nt open again and dove into the more esoteric reaches and eventually a side loop to the terran internet. She smirks nd filled out the form on the lonely hearts site and started scrolling through the entries looking for someone who would be tolerant of a, long distance, relationship at best. She stopped and reread one before nodding to herself, "Well then. That'll fit the bill." She opened hte chat client and fired off a quick message: No judgement but what've you got against Andorians? She hit send then winced as she quickly ran the calculations for earth time in the temporal region noted in the profile. Who knows maybe they too were a night owl.

September 2019 Kord Dormitory Fourth Floor Common Room 3 AM Anyone coming along on the fourth floor common room would have found it a quiet place this evening. The fierce Watchdog, guardian and protector of her sister Daystar, was sound asleep in a dark room, her head pillowed on the arm of the couch, while Judy sat on the other side of her feet. The room was dark, the TV and lights off, but Judy could see fine. She didn't like talking about that - about how she could see in the dark almost as easily during the day, about how her eyes glowed with a silvery-white phosphorescent fire when she did so. Normal people didn't do that. What she did like doing was knitting, a hobby she'd taken to with some enthusiasm on these evenings when Ashley was asleep and she was alone. Well, not entirely alone. The world buzzed with radio chatter here, as everywhere, but she'd learned to tune it out - almost. As her needle worked, she sang a soft acapella in the darkness, "Gonna take my horse to the Old Town Road, gonna ride till I can't no more..."

Skies Above Seoul Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea Saturday, June 27, 2019 8:25:41 PM Two figures traced lazy circles in the space above skyscrapers, straddling the line between the sea of noise and light below and the empty blue sky above them. It was a Saturday in twilight, the sun setting an hour ago, and like all cities on Saturday nights the streets were packed with cars, horns honking at each other. People waded in and out and through the open air markets and shopping boulevards. Families ate dinner together. Friends drank to each other. Drunk voices rose in chorus to sing songs in Kareoke. Parties blared and thrummed with the beat of music and bodies. But up in the air, the two figures might as well have been the only ones left in the planet. "Hey, how's the headset going?" Nicole's voice sounded in Selena's ear, loud and clear. It was almost as if Nicole was speaking right beside Selena and not fifty feet to her 11 o'clock and slightly behind her. As Nicole asked this, the form of her armor entered Selena's view. It spat out flame from her boots in short, controlled bursts and looped away and around her, back out of her vision. The two had travelled to Seoul for one last visit before the university season started and the two, presumably, part ways. They had different paths in life, though both were superheroes and that made for a small community. Both could fly and that made travel easier. Still, one last trip was in the itinerary and they both jumped at the chance to go abroad. They hadn't been in Seoul long, only two days but the chance to fly around aimlessly in a new city was always a treat for anyone who could. As for Selena's helmet, it was a gift Nicole had made for her. Something that allowed Gauss to speak and look and listen without the hassle of things like the howling wind on her face when she was flying at top speeds. "Earth to Selena. Hellooo," Nicole said again. "I say again, 'How's it going?'"

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?