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Riverside Docks, Freedom City 10:00 pm, 3rd July 2018 For heroes it was a place that seemed to attract trouble, ships seemed to attract trouble with people trying to bring various things into and out of Freedom City. And with a ship having just pulled into port from Socotra, a place known for its very lax registration laws, plus the fact that its ruler was a bonafide supervillain, was almost to easy a place to look for potential trouble. So the Spirit of the Isle was just sitting there, it's crew off spending there wages it some of the nearby dives but the cargo not yet unloaded. if something illegal was going to go down then it would happen tonight.

West End, Freedom City, New Jersey Saturday February 10, 2018 9:34 PM Mali Benjawan was standing on the rooftop of a four story building in West End dressed in the costume she wore as Crimson Tiger. Over the past couple of days Mali had been investigating the disappearance of several young people in some of the lower income parts of Freedom City. Her investigation so far (read: some roughed up criminal informants) had led her to believe that these disappearances where the work of the Dark Fist, a street gang connected with the On At-Zhang, a Triad that operated in parts of the West End. While Mali would normally not be overly afraid of pursuing things further on her own, as luck would have it her friend and former classmate at Claremont, Giang Trang, had reached out about wanting to help Mali with anything she might be working on. Giang had explained she was helping a current Claremont student with some things and wanted to get her a bit of crime fighting experience as part of the process. So the two had arranged to meet here. Mali had arrived a bit early, to watch over the location that her sources had indicated was a hideout for the Dark Fist. It was an old warehouse on the West End’s boarder with Grenville For the most part the warehouse was dark and appeared abandoned, but from her vantage point, Mali could see that the section toward the back had lights on, and there were lots of motorcycles parked out near the back entrance and occasionally people coming and going out there. A few blocks away Jessica Witchblood was on a Freedom City Transit bus, on her way toward the southeastern edge of the West End. The young woman had been looking into the disappearance of Hannah Ryan, a girl that was a peripheral member of the group of friends who worked in the clubs that Jessica was part of. Despite warnings from Jessica and some of her other friends, Hannah had gotten at least partially involved in some of the more dangerous criminal elements of Freedom City. And now no one had seen Hannah in a couple of days. Not convinced the police would put this as a high enough priority, Jessica had started looking into it herself. So far the best lead she had was that it might somehow be connected to a street gang known as the Dark Fist. So, now she was on a bus headed toward a place the gang was known to hang out at. The next stop would get her a few blocks from the address.

July 11, 2018 7:26 AM With venerable trees reaching out to provide shade over sidewalks and expensive landscaping framing driveways Kingston had been one of the greener neighbourhoods of the city proper. Now all of that was simply more tinder for the fires indiscriminately gutting once proud estates and nouveau riche concept homes. Even as the sun rose of the second day of the Annihilist occupation its light was choked off by plumes of smoke, leaving the streets cast in flickering reds and oranges. That ominous light would have still been preferable to the deep crimson pocked with dark spots rising from the crumbling remains of one of the larger homes. With violent thumping impacts a Terminus machine the size of a city bus turned on its end dug deep into the foundation while gangly metal arms long enough to reach across the street's cracked pavements ripped free chunks of brick and metal and glass and stone to construct something unseen. The unearthly energy lashed out in unpredictable directions like tap water diffused over the back of a spoon, causing small explosions anywhere it stuck something solid. Meanwhile Omegadrones with wickedly barbed pikes were gathering another sort of raw materials: dozens of people, beaten and bloody, being marched single file toward the terrible pit.

Pier 6 was a nightclub nestled among the warehouses of Bedlam's docks, which despite its location maintained a modest reputation of a safe space where people from all walks of life could mix and mingle, engage in discreet business, or simply drink and dance the worries of the city away. The industrial aesthetic of brick walls and exposed steel combined with leather seating and wood surfaces gave the club a contrasting, if comforting interior. But none of that mattered at the moment, for it was closing time. The patrons of Pier 6 were disgorging into the street and Chance had settled back behind his own bar with a drink, toasting another relatively quiet night.

Saturday September Eighth 2018 10:00 AM Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship But for the low hum of an electric motor and the tinted windows the Danger International fleet car that pulled to the curb a few car lengths from the Espadas Dojo was nondescript and would hardly elicit note from passer by. This was perhaps slightly less true about it's occupants. Before exiting the car Ace turned to his niece. "Alright so, as I said, he's the best, but also a little touchy about keeping a low profile." which was to say had a standing threat to stab Ace should he descend on his home with reporters again. "So uh, casual is hte rule I guess?" Low profile was really no more in Aces vocabulary than his companions, luckily this was actually nothing but a legitimate visit for the establishments actual purpose. That said the immortal adventurer hopped from the car and strode confidently up to the doors to the dojo slipping inside to await the proprietor, he'd even done the due diligence of arriving between scheduled classes.

GM Down South, by the Magic Mesa In the midst of the desert and rock, stood a tower of black stone. The sun blazed low, and cast long shadow on the ground. Insects and dry weeds scuttled and clung to the dirt, and vultures flew overhead, looking for bones to pick clean. Bones there were aplenty, but dry and white and devoid of flesh they were. The Dust Devil landed in this land, travelling from Freedom City through the sand. Here, he had learned, was Abdul, the occultist and leader of a band of merry bohemians who had discovered some strange leaf that, if smoked, sent the brain spiralling through space and time, and rotted it with madness whilst doing so. By the Mesa, space and time started to become strange. They became stranger still as one approached the black rock tower. It would take considerable skill to navigate through this strange land, but fortunately, this was the Dust Devil. And he could navigate with ease. By the dirt was a buick, dry and damage from smoke inside. Iniside a young woman lay unconscious, dry, and near death, sprawled on the back seat wearing a summer dress bleached from light.

October 2018 Boy's Common Room Kord Dormitorium First Floor In the corridor, Ashley ventured again what she'd said a couple of days earlier. "I don't know about this, Judy." "Ah know it may not work," said Judy with a faint smile, her arms wrapped around a small bundle of books and pamphlets. "This is not the first time Ah've tried to mission to someone. But Leroy is a nice boy and we're gonna have a nice talk, and talking about Jesus is a good way to do that." She grinned. "Do you know how hard it is to get people to ask most of the time? Anyway, maybe he'll take me to the fall dance if things go well!" She locked eyes with Ashley, stunning her bodyguard enough to let her slip into the boy's common room without another word. Damn! Ashley thought, unable to keep grudging admiration out of her thoughts as she adopted a scowl and stepped into the room after her sister, giving a few hard glares at the boys who were looking their way. Well she knows how to shut me up, anyway.

The DuTemps Building July 10th, 2018 10:59 AM Before the sky bled, Temperance was taken in by the city below. Things were tranquil, and she wasn't quite sure where they'd go next. She and Sharl were still happy in their relationship. They weren't necessarily making any moves towards any particular destinations, but they were okay with standing in the middle ground. She had just graduated from college, and while she was putting herself out on the job market, she was still experiencing that difficulty of having a good - but not incredible - GPA and some internship experience. Maybe I'll put my "night work" on the resume and see how many heads explode. There was peace. There was quiet. There was a city below, remembering what was lost and celebrating the victory that had been gained through great sacrifice. She stood on the lip of a castle in the sky, wondering how her life had gotten to this point, and where it might go next. Then the screaming began. In a hundred different voices, from boiling asphalt to sparking power lines. Her phone went off in her hand. A message from her father. THE CITY IS GOING MAD. RUN. Before she could even more, a great red rent was torn in the sky, and a swarm of steel locusts descended. She ran to the lip of the building, struck dumb for half a second, before she got a good look... No. Oh, gods, no. She ran back into the building, reaching for her phone to send out a mass blast to the group. UNDER ATTACK. TERMINUS.

The skulls weren't going to fit on the walls, and it wasn't Leroy's fault. "Dio! What is this, a prison?! Behold how cramped and mean our abode!" Covering the entire bed and part of the floor, the green dragon stretched luxuriously and gave no apparent reply. From behind the headboard, a long, forked red tongue flicked out, then vanished. "At least the barracks of the worlds liberated by my sisters, those had some rude charm!" Sighing a long-suffering sigh, Leroy sat down in a swirl of colored silk as his robes billowed. Surveying the shelves piled with bits and bobs, posters, maps, trophies, book stacks and carefully-positioned feather duster, Leroy ran a hand over his new hair. He still missed the masses of curls he'd grown up with, but the close-cut geometry of the Caesar was at least fun to skim your fingers over. He frowned, the pupils of his golden eyes narrowing to slits as he pondered the riddle of interior design logistics. He turned his eyes back to the lounging dragon "What if I just piled them at the foot and head of the bed, then I can just take them out when I want and during the day they can go over the covers?" "And where will I sssleep, O Dragon Prinsssce?" His face was draped behind the headboard, and a dragon's physiognomy is hard to read anyway, but Dio's voice carried the wry note of sarcasm perfectly. "Under that tree." Leroy pointed unthinkingly at the tall, spreading oak visible from the window. "Neither rain nor frost nor burning sun discomfort you, and I'm the one who needs sleep the more!" Dio started to reply, when his tongue, flicking out again, paused. It darted out again, for longer. "I sssmell sssomeone...your bunkmate, arrange yourssself!"

30 September 2018, 8AM The last two months had been a sort of down time for Moira. She and Estelle had been living together for that time, as lovers do. Moira still did the hero duties and put face time in at Morleys, but she was seemingly devoted to, gasp, one person! Not that she minded. And she hoped that Estelle didn't mind. It was cute being a couple. At first it was like 'well, i see other people'. And they were fine with that. But they grew close. Now Moira rarely strayed. Here she was, cooking breakfast for her love. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, potatoes, and more. Lots of them. It smelled like a breakfast bistro in the loft. Wafting all over, reaching the nostrils of Estelle as she slept.

1PM Philosophy Class "All right, everybody," said Judy Smith, smiling nervously as she looked around at the others in her four-person study group. (Well, three if you didn't count her sister.) The large room was full of the chatter of small groups as the divided students discussed the packet of documents the instructor had handed them; or alternatively peeked at their phones, or chatted when the instructor was across the room. "The first one says 'You are a superhero in the United States in 2020. A law has passed that says everyone with superpowers must register with the federal government. Your friends are divided on the subject - some of them think the law is a good idea because it will keep people safe, other people think the government can't be trusted with that information. Do you agree with the law? What'll you do about it, whether you agree or disagree. And there are the longer arguments...so what do you guys think?" she asked, looking around at the others. "This seems pretty easy."

October 5th Twas an average afternoon on an average day, which had little to recommend it to the annals of history other than its remarkable averageness. In a city like Freedom City, however, that meant pretty much anything could happen. Cassidy Collins was in for a non-average day. But it felt, right now, pretty average. Picking up a delivery of groceries around the back of the shop. The driver, Amy Small, was not small. A woman of Cassidy's age, she was a complete gym freak, and knew Cassidy from their local iron-pumping facilities. She was a lithe and tall and sweaty, and kind of beautiful, bar a nasty set of scars, broken cheek and eye patch that were testament to a childhood accident. Her smile was crooked, but cool. She was hauling out heavy boxes from her van. Cassidy was not sure if she had a crush on him. She did tend to smile a lot around him. "Another day, another dollar, huh?" she grunted, shifting another heavy box out of the van full of, this time, tinned soup. "Not how I thought my life would go!" she laughed, although she didn't sound bitter. "We had a major mix up on monday, you know. Whole heap of stuff got screwed up. Not our fault, but just to let you know that if you find any mummies or meteors in these boxes, dont say I didn't warn ya!"

GM August 30th 16:15 WEST has a small office just the other side of the street (or thereabouts). It was here that Replica came to see Dr Norris North who sat, pressing his temples, anxiety perfusing his sweat. The message had just said URGENT! VERY URGENT! "We have a serious problem" he muttered, not pleased with said problem. "I think we have a rogue AI. Some idiot hacker has taken the brakes off a traffic control system. We were already getting concerned about the experimental code in the quantum computer ASTRO labs installed there. Now it looks like the traffic is going,...well...mental...." he explained, not happy with his explanation. "WEST is meant to head off these threats before the brown stuff hits the fan" he said, dissapointed. "Now, we are against the clock. And I am thin, to say the best, on resources. I hope you can handle computers. Please tell me you can handle computers! You said you could handle computers!"

After Jessica and Jack, they kept in touch for a short while. Hanging out, doing stuff. He had responsibilities as well as she did. Jess did poke him for a while on his phone and other social media places, but he seemed to drop off the face of the Earth. Not the first time a friend ever did that to her. So she went on, the bear hero stuck in the back of her mind. And then? Well, he just showed up in her area. He was eating a burger outside of the place they met. She did pinch herself to see if the carnal spirits were playing with her. But no, he was real. The sky was orange as the sunset on the bay. Which kind of gave her the advantage of sneaking up on him. Maybe he was here for something? She didn't care. She just wanted to know a few things. He felt a light touch on the back of his neck. "Burger, eh," she asked walking in front of him. Crossing her arms, she looked up. Dressed in tight jeans, and a red bikini top covered by a black mesh shirt. "I would have never guessed," she smirked, "where's mine?"

Seeing Double Club, Lincoln, Freedom City 20:30 August 1st 2018 Despite everything Freedom City endured! But even though the city itself had more or less returned to normally many people were still affected by the events of the last month and many were raising money to help those inflicted. One such place was Seeing Double which was nothing special, a warehouse converted into a club for at least a few nights aiming to donate it's earning to such charities. The unique thing about the staff was that everyone running the place, from the door to the bar, was exactly the same person Merge Trois.

September 15th, 3ish PM, the pool. Corinne Conrad was focusing. Visualizing what would come next, running it through her mind as she swung her arms at her sides, slowly working herself up to the next step. Which was going to be tricky, she had to use her powers. But then, they wanted people to demonstrate that, so... here she was. Trying, away from others. Or at least the classes. In her swimsuit, with her back to the pool at the side, water running off of her already from the previous efforts, and time in the pool. Then came the easy part, the physical part. The standing leap into the air, before the balls of her feet struck it like it was solid, a surface to find purchase, and she then pushed off that shimming step, and away, as she carried through a perfect arch to find herself in a handstand in midair, halting her momentum, before she worked herself into position on her hands, before allowing herself to fall forward, and into a frontflip to complete the movement and dive into the chlorinated water. This was not the first. Her arms screamed in protest, but this wasn't something she listened to before, so why would she start doing it now? Regaining her bearings she moved through the water, back to the side of the pool, and surfaced, gasping and blinking the water out of her eyes.

Claremont Academy. Third Floor, Rita Kord Dorm. September 4, 2018 10:05 am Lulu didn't have too much stuff to bring in; most of her clothes were still back at the Harrows' place across in North Bay, still in the boxes and bags from the mall. She was used to travelling light, carrying her most important belongings in ziplock bags tucked into a backpack and a gym bag. Growing up in rural Alabama, there were always floods or hurricanes or tropical storms that forced you to relocate for days at a time, pulling up stakes in a hurry as you grabbed some bottled water for the road. Most of the houses in Columbia were either trailers or simple uninsulated structures that were cheap to repair or rebuild. There was no real sense of permanence; God could wipe out everything you owned with a simple wave of His hand. But Freedom was very different; everything here was built to last, or even survive assault by supervillains. The walls and floors of Claremont were thick and well-worn, scuffed and polished by the passing of hundreds of youthful hands and feet. Everything was spotless and freshly-cleaned, yet you could still feel the history of the place. Lulu found room 309 with little difficulty, and stood in the doorway for several seconds as she took in the space that would be her academic home for the next three years. Two beds, two dressers and two desks in a pleasant, airy room that somehow managed not to smell like a hotel. She picked the left-hand bed at random, dropping her two bags next to it as she laid down on her back, staring up at the ceiling, idly flexing her sneakered feet this way and that. "Well...here we are."

When Danica had first come to Claremont as a freshman, her parents hadn't been thrilled to see that her dorm room assignment was on the third floor. Given the length of time it took their daughter to climb a flight of stairs, it seemed likely she'd spend most of her first year of high school just trying to get in and out of her building. They were quickly reassured that Danica's room was right next to the elevator, which was more than big enough to accommodate her and her Segway in shelled or unshelled form. In the unlikely event of an emergency that shut down the elevator, she would be teleported to safely by campus security. Danica herself loved living on the third floor, it was just high enough to give her a good view of the campus and just low enough that she really could take the stairs if she needed to. This was her third year in this same dorm room and she was very used to it by now. Disembarking from the elevator, she parked her Segway next to the door of her room and walked in. As she'd kind of expected, her new roommate was already there, poring over the contents of her moving boxes. Danica's side of the room was completely empty except for the school-issued dresser, desk and bed, bare mattress and all. "Hi!" she told her roommate, walking very slowly into the room and sitting down on the edge of her mattress. "You're Selena, right? It was kind of crazy busy down there earlier."

GM One of the Week Days? Maybe? Probably March 4th 2018? Evening? Definitely Jessica Witchblood's apartment The first thing that happened was the knock at the door. It was firm, insistent, and worst of all woke Jessica up out of an extremely pleasant dream. One involving a beach, a soft-eyed lover and one of her old teachers burning on a stake for all to see. "Are you there, Ms. Witchblood?" A muffled voice hollered through the door "It's me, your demon! I'm...well I'm here for the orientation!" This week had been one of the worst in Jessica's entire life. If she tried to focus on any one of the miserable things that had been going on, it caused her a severe migraine and summoned several other phantoms for the problems stacked on top of them. Which started hitting her head with large iron mallets. That might have been the ill-fated all-nighter coming back to haunt her. Greek wine was sweet, delicious, deadly. Sweet, like the lips of- The voice burst in again "Um....is this the right place? Should I come back? I need to see a Ms. Witchblood right away! Otherwise they'll throw me in the lake of fire! Again!"

GM Doctor Norris North, director of W.E.S.T (World Exotic Science Taskforce) was nervous. His job of course required spinning a lot of plates, and he was not a nervous man by nature. But right now, he helped himself to a vodka. Just the one. For nerves. He was on board a Sea-plane which was descending to the cove of Dr Deoxies island. Hidden. Concealed. Remote. And by invitation. Still, even if he was invited, it was an island populated by dinousaurs and infused with radiation. He would be taking every precaution. Whilst the plane was being flown by the pilot (an experienced ex-US air force woman of stronger nerves than he), he pulled up the communication link to Doctor Deoxy. "Doctor? Doctor? Do you read me? This is North. Doctor Norris North, Director of W.E.S.T. Do we have your permission to land and...ah....where should we do so safely?" he asked, politely.

Location: Just a few wrong turns from the Downtown strip of the West End Date: 9 - 23 - 18, 9:15 PM GM Post: Claremont Kids It certainly wasn't a date-date, but a 'lets check out the game store in the West End' had turned into a quick dinner and an involved discussion of the recent tabletop game shaping up for the latest crop of Claremont kids. It should have been a few quick turns to get back to the bus stop that would take them back to the safety of Claremont's dorms but a right instead of a left (or two), and the pair were decidedly nowhere near where the bus stop should be. Instead, they'd crossed the border into a dark and poorly lit Greenbank where more buildings were abandoned than not, especially at this time of night, and the rail yard loomed in the distance. They were absolutely and certainly lost. It seemed entirely deserted, at least, at first. After a few moments. Then, the faintly audible murmur of voices talking caught their attention. Peering around the corner, there was a small knot of shadowy looking individuals apparently intently arguing in low pitched Russian. At their center was a woman dressed in all black. More disconcertingly, there were certain ominous and unmarked crates sitting out. To Lulu's mental senses, the woman at the center didn't even seem to exist but she was absolutely there plain as day. Something shady was going on! GM Post: Interceptors When Talya had gotten a bit of intel on a possible S.H.A.D.O.W. cell operating near the West End, she hadn't kept it to herself. Such growth, really! Her plan, however, to infiltrate the group and ferret out the ringleader had gone over like a sack of bricks. Min, especially, hadn't been too keen on the 'I'll just let myself get captured, then we'll have plenty of information' solution of the former spy. Relationships, after all, were all about compromise. Months of work, though, and it had finally led to tonight. If everything went well, they'd finally have the information for who thought operating on the Interceptors territory was a good idea. Dressed in all black, Bombshell stood disguised in the center of some very, very dangerous people and their even more dangerous weapons, haggling for a 'good deal' for missile launchers and cluster bombs. Somewhere, out of sight, Jack of all Blades waited. She'd dropped enough hints that S.H.A.D.O.W. agents should suspect her real identity. It was a trap. Bombshell and Jack knew it was a trap, and the intended to spring it on their own terms. Everything had been accounted for. Everything, but a pair of Claremont students. Even the best laid plans...

September 4, 2018 Claremont Academy (Third Floor, Rita Kord Dorm) Janus followed along, glancing at the numbers of the rooms as they passed each one in turn. The Danger scion had dressed 'down' recognizing that there would be a lot of hauling and unpacking from dark windowed car to the dormitory which meant that they only somewhat looked like some lost extra from an over-embellished k-pop video. Hair that faded from white to rose at the tips was pulled back in a tight braid that brushed the tightly laced leather pants. (Who wore leather pants in the late summer? A Danger, that's who.) The flouncy poets shirt had been cuffed back above leanly muscled forearms. Bright violet eyes cut to the sign. "Three-twelve. This is us, 'Ronnie." Like the androgynous features, Janus' smooth tenor didn't betray if the tall, slim individual was male or female, though their handsome features lent itself to an easily assumed pretty male. Shortening Veroncia's name with familial familiarity, Janus paused before apologizing as they well knew high school had an impact. If nothing else, Janus had seen all the high school movies while taking up space in Danger Manor over the summer. "Sorry, Veronica." Janus amended as they bumped the door open with one lean hip, "Habit."

September 4, 2018 Claremont Academy (Fourth Floor, Rita Kord Dorm) Jaycee had suggested they meet people before the assembly. "The first time you meet somebody, you set the tone for the whole rest of your relationship. If I meet them now, when Ah want to and on mah terms, that'll make it easier to stay in control. And Ah gotta stay in control, right?" It was actually one of the most perspicacious things Ashley had ever heard her charge say - and certainly the longest string of words she'd put together since a recently-drained Jaycee had parted company with the bulk of her Secret Service detail at an undisclosed location and headed onto Claremont's campus that weekend. They'd come in early, before any of the other students arrived, and Jaycee had spent most of her time in her room studying and texting to her sisters. And so it was that the "sisters" headed out into the fourth floor hallway, Ashley taking the lead as she would for the next two years. Jesus Christ, she took a moment to think before she took in the scenery. 410 was down at the end of one hall on the fourth floor, with 409 and 411 on either side a little further towards the main staircase. There were backstairs too, of course, and escape hatches that the sophomore students probably weren't going to find out about yet. Ashley was dressed for her part in a leather jacket, denim shirt, and scuffed jeans. She'd told her handlers that the pink dye in her hair cut down on the "look" she was trying to present, but they'd told her it would soften her image. By which they mean not make me look like a lesbian. She contemplatively chewed a toothpick as she scanned the hall, then took a look back at Jaycee as she closed the door behind her. "Judy" Smith didn't look much at all like her First Daughter self - with her long hair loose and hanging down her back, in baggy brown shirt and slacks that had made her make a single small noise at the sight of them, she looked like one of the refugees they were pretending to be. She was smiling the smile of someone who'd had media training, though, as she ran her fingers against the gold cross she wore around her neck. That was new too; a gift from the First Lady that nobody had seen in public yet. "Well?" It was true - Ashley had to lead the way on this one. She headed down the corridor, looking for open doors - or the sounds of activity inside them.

August 29, 2018 Claremont Academy (Rita Kord Dorm, Room 411) To say getting into Clarement Academy on move-in day could be hectic was possibly the grandmother of all understatements. The Rita Kord dorm had become a storm of activity. Students both new and returning were coming in and out of its walls in all manner of directions and methods. Speedsters were racing to get to their rooms, teleporters were popping in and out with their supplies, phasers nonchalantly passing through walls and people, flyers attempting to avoid the congestion on the floor only find out they weren't the only one's with that idea. In a word, it was chaos. And Astrid loved it. Easily holding a massive overstuffed duffel bag in one hand and her favorite guitar in the other, Astrid made her way through all the madness with a grin on her face. Asgard had been chaotic too, but there was a sameness to all that wonder. As strange as seeing giants, valkyries, dwarves and gods together was they all kind of clicked to together to make a whole that had its own internal logic and theme. Claremont, on the other hand, was just plain mad in Astrid's eyes. Everything and everyone seemed to keep from different worlds, each with its own unique theme. The school was diverse in the truest sense of the word, with super-geniuses, mutants, aliens, Atlanteans, and yes, Asgardians walking around every which way. Despite it all Astrid felt a there was sense of koselig here, a feeling of cozy belonging that permeated across the whole dorm as she made her way through it. It might have just been wishful thinking, but Astrid's gut told her it was genuine. When she finally made it to her new home in Room 411 she broke the dorm room in by causally flicking her duffel bag to one of the room's beds and gently putting her guitar there as well. Astrid was told that she would have a roomie to share the dorm with. Was it a Nicole Whitfield-Hall or a Nicole Whitefield-Hall? As Astrid began to unzip her duffel bag and unpack she wondered what kind of person this Nicole was. Looking at her guitar for a moment, Astrid certainly hoped she was someone who liked heavy metal.

Eh'Qui 9 Time and Date unknown There were many signs that Facsimile wasn't on Earth anymore, the grass he was lying in was to green, the sky was a little too blue and looking down at him was several small horse-faced aliens. They looked down at him with a mix of concern and curiosity, after all as far as he knew he'd just fallen from the sky in front of them. The chatted excitedly to each other, apparently trying to work out if he was a danger, in cute little voices that sounded a little like horse whinnies.