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The boardwalks own 'Original BurgerShack!' was not as busy as during the summer months certainly but the steady flow of locals looking for what was widely regarded as the best burger and shake this side of the south river earned it the rare honor of being open on the chill winter afternoon. A small number of workers from the nearby indoor attractions and a few die hards getting their burger on were spread out in the ample outdoor seating around the burger shaped hut that housed the BurgerShack! itself. The line wasn't long and moving quick despite the late lunch rush so it was an inviting enough option for the rare passerby. A half dozen construction workers waited patiently off to the side for their orders to be completed and on the edge of the seating area a group of local teens roughhoused boisterously as they clustered around a table just slightly too small for their group to eat the bags of food they'd just recieved.

GM January 1'st, 2018, 6.43PM Cold as hell and with freezing winds blowing in off the Atlantic Liberty Park, Freedom City "Well, he's not in the north woods. He's probably dead, let's go home." Trudy shoved the scarf back up over her mouth, looking longingly at the apartment block rising up to the east. Beside the frozen Heroes Knoll reservoir, overlooking the tall and brassy statues celebrating the fallen crimefighters of Freedom City's past, it was hard not to sympathize. There was no protection from the wind and the temperature would have been below zero anyway. It was increasingly unlikely Mr. Meowmers would have gotten this far. The other five in the party muttered agreement, though Marsha did give the instigator of their four-hour long search a gentle side-hug. But Serena, red-eyed and bundled up like a bison, was made of more obstinate stuff. "H-h-he's j-j-jussst cur-r-rled up-p s-s-s-'mwere. Got-t-a k-keep looking!" She looked up at Jessica in mute appeal. A fresh, savage punch of wind hissed and rattled among the trees, splashing icily against the search party.

GM Freedom City January 17th The Residence of Jennifer James... 'Twas a most mysterious package, sent first class. The motorcycle courier had looked out of breath, saying he the delivery company had been ordered to send it with every speed. Ordered. Perhaps threatened. The package, once unwrapped, was an ice box. And inside the ice box was a jar of frozen blood, complete with a note. It was handwritten, and elegant. Dear Ms. James, My name is Winston Welsh. I am not a well man. In my bold endeavours for health I have read much about less conventional medicine, the supernatural, and so on. And I have dug deep into my family history, in search of an understanding of my haematological ailment, for no doctor understands it. I have come to believe (although I may be crazed and clinging to delusional hope), That you are a distant relative, and, maybe, a potential cure. Despite the remote possibility of my conclusion being true (as opposed to birthed from a maddened mind), I cling to hope. If correct, I would hope that this jar would give you good road to New Orleans, where I currently reside...

GM January 26, 2018 Everything was going to hell. By all rights, Tandem Robotics was just a research and development company that no one really knew much about or paid any real attention to. They were a well-funded business nonetheless, and in the last five years had been making forays into the realm of energy production. For a while, it was all theoretical research, nothing truly noteworthy. Somewhere in the last two weeks, however, everything changed. The blackout stretched for blocks. By the time police were on the scene, the overcast skies lent an ominous aura to the entire situation. And it was very much a situation. The seven story structure where Tandem Robotics was housed seemed to be in some sort of lockdown. Witnesses were being interviewed, but police had surrounded the building, trying to keep people out and witnesses/victims secure. The violet beam sending pulsing waves of light into the night sky didn'tseem to be helping matters at all, either. Right up until it wasn't.

There is nothing quite like a good book. A good story, with well developed characters and an enticing premise. You learn to love and relate to the protagonist and learn to hate and despise the villain. Yes, there isn't anything quite like a good book and many people can easily find themselves lost in the world of the pages. Sometimes though a good book is too hard to put down... Calling @Zeitgeist Blue and @Exaccus

GM January 26, 2018, 3:30 pm It wasn't terribly unusual for strange things to happen out in Wharton State Forest. The wildlife made it dangerous enough, though no more dangerous than any other forest, all things considered. Campers and hunters frequented parts of it, so a distinctly human presence made it manageable. Nevertheless, there where times when things just took an unexpected turn--strange sightings, weird noises... and it seemed this was no different. Even from a mile or two away, one could see it: a great black haze covering a considerable portion of the woods like an opaque dome. Trees withered at its edges, and by all accounts, the dome was slowly expanding. The shadowy blight reeked of something ancient and terrible, attracting the attention of at least two interested parties...

West Gables Housing Unit, North End After the holiday's thing were settling back to normal at school, thanks to so many heroes around Freedom kept running despite the cold weather. And whilst some liked the dark and gloomy weather many in the House had decided they need do something to brighten up the winter and raise some money for those struggling in this weather. So after a quite enthusiastic night of discussion, it was decided to do a fashion show to show off some of the Colleges best designers. The show had been going stunningly well and many of the tickets had already been sold. Casey was in her room one dark and wintery morning when there was a knock on the door and Lola stuck her head around the door, not even waiting for a response. "There a woman in the Common Room to see you, says you know her." from the sound of this mysterious stranger had caught Lola attention.

"When you're done, clean the place up and you can leave." Aliya nodded to the receding hairline of Paul Hamm as he walked away before looking back to the few young girls who still had the twinkle of dreams in their eyes. She envied their innocence as their pigtails and braids flipped and twirled while the girls practiced dismounts from the balance beam. There had likely been a time in her life where she looked much like them, although she couldn't recall it; the past clouded with broken promises and ambitions. "Miss M?" a four foot ball of energy in a blindingly pink leotard stepped up to her. "What is wanting Susan?" she said, her still noticeable Russian accent making the name sound more like Zhusan. "There is a lady at the front, she is looking for you." Alyia smiled at the young girl, "thanking for letting know. Will go see of this woman. Now, run to work the splits. Needing to be much more flexibles." As Susan ran off to the mats, she walked to the small counter that served as the office for 'Bounding Dreams' perhaps one of the saddest gymnastics clubs she had ever been in. That she now worked here made that fact even worse. The equipment was decades old, most of the lockers were inoperable, it was amazing that the lights even worked given how little money the place generated. No, Bounding Dreams was just that, another whimsical notion that had faded like the aging paint on the walls. It was so likely that someone was here to collect on something that the insolvent business couldn't pay out on that she was already speaking as she rounded the corner, "Mr. Hamm is not being here this times. Perhaps if needing pays, can come back to other time?"

Silberman's Books, at the corner of Pratt and Frederick. Tuesday, January 23rd, 2018. 10:00 am. Today it was the 'Tuesday Morning Power Trio' on the floor at Silberman's; Gretchen dutifully working the register, Lance at the bar pulling shots and making the magic happen, and Maddy on the sales floor with her warmth and English Lit degree. The morning crowd of old Jewish men playing checkers and moms chatting chatting over coffee while their babies dozed in their strollers was very much in evidence. The store's owner Lynn Epstein was in her office, sipping coffee and reading resumes while waiting for another applicant to show up for her interview.

GM Some criminals run operations that Freedom League members won't touch. There are outliers that do the more grey stuff for truth and justice. Silent Justice is an app solicited to heroes who are looking to pay it forward. Sometimes it's just to get a cat out of a tree or help a granny across the street. Other times, there are cryptic messages that will be there for just a minute and then gone. These are the jobs that no one wants to do. Still within the confines of the law, but no one cares of the villain stops breathing air. No killing, yes yes, but accidents happen. Tonight's port of call were traffickers. Good Intentions was a business that dealt in warm storage. The more lively and healthy the body, the better 'parts' it would make. Don't worry, you've never heard of them. If you have you'd be gone, at best. The app described the job as 'Help wanted. Docks. Late night. Right now. Save people.' It was put up around 2330 and was deleted and deleted at 2332. Two, maybe three, people saw it. "2350," the dock worker looked at the ship carting on crates of various sizes, "ain't this a little early/late?" A man in a black business suit and red skin looked at the dock worker with a sadistic grin, "not that you'll remember, Smitty." The devil man invaded Smitty's mind giving him implicit instructions. Smitty's eyes whited over and nodded. "Getting right on it, boss," Smitty said taking out a walkie talkie, "guys we're gonna have another load to bare." There were a few collective groans heard from the walkie talkie. The devil man went back into his ship.

GM January 23, 2018, 7:30 p.m. Calvin, Louisiana It was the sort of town that one could very easily miss. It had all the hallmarks of an ordinary town, of course--churches, stores, schools. Most people simply passed right on through--not hard considering there was only one traffic light and a population of less than 300. For that matter, it was hard to imagine anyone going there on purpose. And yet, it seemed to be where Lament was headed. He wasn't alone, of course. The weather was cold enough that hitchhiking was a terrible idea, and He had spent the last two days on a rented charterbus traveling north towards Arkansas. They had made a few stops on the way, participating in local fairs that had all been relatively successful. The group's manager, Benjamin "Benny" Rougeau invited the traveling showman to stay as long as he liked, and the rest of group seemed perfectly fine with it; one got the impression that many had drifted in and out of their ranks with very little incident. Benny was easily in his 60s, tall and broad-shouldered, with a reddish-gray beard and a receding hairline well covered up by a customized cap that read "Rougeau's Rogues". While most of the group was fast asleep, Benny made his way through to check on everyone, gently waking anyone asleep to let them know they'd be stopping at a hotel soon. He stopped at Luther's seat. "How you holdin' up, son?"

February 2018 St. Gregory's The area around St. Gregory's Church was the home of one of the larger Russian emigre communities in Freedom City, a legacy of the city's long history of accommodating immigrants from all over the planet - and beyond. The owner and manager of A Taste of Irkutsk, the closest thing you could get to authentic Siberian cuisine in this part of New Jersey, was a fairly recent arrival in Freedom City, with ample friends and family back in the old country. So when the most famous Russian super-agent in the United States called him and reserved a table, he'd been happy to provide whatever he needed - including a restaurant that was mostly empty despite this being the dinner hour. Sitting patiently at a table for two, Comrade Frost waited for the arrival of his guest. The message had come to the Davydov residence - not Claremont Academy. Comrade Frost, the longest-active member of the People's Heroes, had invited Vanya out for an evening of "delicious Siberian fare for the appetite of a young bear!" (the exclamation point had been in the original) - a pointed invitation that was difficult to refuse. Vanya had grown up on stories of the People's Heroes and how they'd defended the motherland from the Germans during the Great Patriotic War; Vanya's father had grown up on stories of the People's Heroes and how they kept the Soviet Union safe from the forces of capitalism. Who could turn one down? "Don't let him frighten you," Ivan had assured Vanya. "This is not 1975 and this is America, not Russia. Everything will be fine." Still, Ivan had opted to come to the restaurant with his son, promising to stay "out of the way and let you do the talking, since you are a big man now." The restaurant certainly smelled familiar as they got off the bus together, the scents of home easily detectable even on the street. Was that pelmini in there?

January 20th, 2018. Sometime around Noon. Jack relaxed against the tree, enjoying the weather outside. The snow fell softly against his skin, and he sat in the snow, covered only in basketball shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. It had been a few days since he started going to school here, but already he was enjoying his time. His friend Alexa had been correct when she told him that he would love it. The food alone was worth it. He cupped his hands around a snowball, packing it gently, a smile spreading on his face. Alexa usually passed this way between classes..and he had a concocted a pile of snowballs with her name on them...and a second pile for Lexa. Tis the season for a good snowball fight.

January 17th, Evening time Freedom City, somewhere in the Northen parts, or thereabouts or so on... To the door of Lobisomem did come a stranger. Knocking, he came. The stranger was tall, and he was thin. But it was neither his excess of height nor his paucity of girth that defined him, no, it was not. The most striking feature about the stranger was his blood stained clothes. All bloody he was, from his brown shoes, up over his jacket, and even to the congealed blood on his head. "Let me in! Please, I need help!" he banged. "Please!" he banged louder. "There is something out there....coming to get me...." he said, louder still. Desperation powered his fist, and the knocks become some virulent in force, that they did surely threaten to crack bones in hand...

GM Saturday, December 27th. 6:45 AM Mr. Landis did not mind being up this early. He was, after all, a morning person. He could not, speak for his students, or at least the ones he was taking to Parkside to do some volunteer (read: voluntold) work and clean up at the Park for detention. One of their days at least. There would be more, especially for Corinne and Cheri. The other two were members of the Brohort, the little super team filled with 'bros', Bombast (Robert Johnson) and Gains (Ryan Farrell), in similar velour tracksuits, and had occupied the back seat of the van as it trundled on their way. They were being uncharacteristically quiet. But then, Bombast was not a morning person. "I do hope everything goes smoothly today. We'll worry about lunch in a bit." Said as he was parking the van at spot close to their clean-up section.

Claremont Academy Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday January 17, 2018; 3:28 PM "Thank you for taking the time to come and meet with one of my students Giang." Callie Summers said as she walked down the hallway of a Jasmin Summers Administrative Building. Walking alongside the school headmistress was a twenty-two year old Asian woman with shoulder length black hair. Standing about five foot three, the young woman had a lithe build and moved with an easy grace. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and wore a jacket much to light for the cold weather outside, a red windbreaker with a Del Mar Lifeguards crest on the left front breast. "I am always pleased to help Headmistress." Giang Trang replied. "And it is always nice to have an opportunity visit once again." "So you will be finishing your degree this Spring correct? Settled on any plans for the future?" "Nothing definitive. There are a few offers for research projects I could work on for the short term. But I likely will take a bit of time off to visit Lord Zandar and his family in the Lost World, and likely spend a bit of time in Atlantis with Thaelia." "I trust those destinations were not choose just because they are beyond the reach of your father?" Headmistress Summers asked, glancing over at the young woman beside her. Giang gave a small smile. "No, although it is much easier to relax when one is not looking over their shoulder." She paused a moment and then asked, "so, is there something in particular you are hoping I can help Zhu with?" "Well, beyond just being a well-grounded, non-teacher young adult that she might feel more comfortable talking to and confiding in, she does have some confidence issues and has frozen up in stressful situations." "Not exactly uncommon for most teenagers, although here it is somewhat less so and certainly is a problem in situations many of us tend to end up in." Giang stated with a nod. The two continued to talk a bit more as they began descending down the building's central stairway. A short while later they arrived down in the main lobby of the building, where Zhu Xieng had been instructed to meet the pair. Quickly spotting the teenager, Headmistress Summers moved over toward her. "Good afternoon Miss Xieng, may I introduce one of our somewhat recent alumna, Giang Trang." Giang gave Zhu a small formal bow as she was introduced, along with a warm smile. The Asian young woman possessed something of a serene presence, combined with a casual confidence. <"I am pleased to meet you Xieng Zhu."> Giang said in Mandarin. The Mandarin style she used, along with her accent, was a bit formal, but perfect.

1/14/2018 Headmistress Office, Calremont Academy "So, how have you been settling in, Miss Xieng?" Miss Summers asked sitting behind the impressive wooden desk in her tastefully appointed office. Zhu smiled and nodded, "very well Headmistress. I like the school very much." "Excellent, that is something which we of course strive for. It's important that you both enjoy and learn. Believe me, the time will go fast and you may find very unique pressures which you have to face." As the third incarnation of the Raven she had first hand knowledge of what kind of pressures the young girl in front of her might encounter. Zhu was about to reply when a middle aged woman stepped in, "I am sorry for interrupting Miss Summers. However, your 10am is here. Mrs. Davydov and her son. Should I show them in." Miss Summers considered for a moment, "Alexa, would you be willing to do me a favor?" "Yes, ma'am. Of course," Zhu replied. "Excellent. We have a new student starting. I would like to discuss some things with Jack's mother in private. Would you be willing to show Jack around the campus?" Zhu paused, "I would... but I'm still very new here." Miss Summers laughed easily, "yes you are, but admin server you are currently monitoring has a map of the campus whic I'm sure you can find. Besides, it's Sunday and most students are still alseep I would imagine." Nodding, Zhu got up, her pleated skirt falling to her knees as she straightened her simple long sleeved top, "yes ma'am..." she said sheepishly as she had been peeking at some of the nearby computers. Smiling, Miss Summers continued, "let's just not make a habit of going places you shouldn't. Thank you Miss Xieng, I'm sure Mr. Davydov will be fine in your company. We'll talk again later to check on your progress." Stepping out of the office, she ran into a pair of legs. A very large pair of legs. Looking up she realized that it wasn't some kind of colossal leg statue, but they were connected to a person who loomed above her. She blinked a few times at the mountain of a boy before realizing that this must be Jack, craning her neck she gave him a smile, "oh! Sorry... I didn't see you. I'm not sure how I didn't. We're to take a tour of the facility... and... oh! I'm Alexa. Sorry. You have me out of sorts."

Derendis, the City of the Grand Tributary Kolast They were leading one of the heretics through the town square. What she had done, Cavalier couldn't say. They had cast her in dirty cloth that he couldn't entirely say was clean on animal waste. Her head had been shaved bald, and her mouth was fitted with rusted iron. As far as he could guess, she might have tried dealing in one of the forbidden arts. Like making thunder from the stinking earth, or concocting potions that could drive out the so-called "invisible demons" that brought men to ruin. All men knew that ruin was the gods inflicting disfavor. Or calling the anointed home. One of the two, and you could never tell which was which. It was all the province of the gods. Cavalier drew up his cloak and tried to look away. Intervention would just raise a hell of a lot of questions - questions they could not spare. Questions that would eventually end in fire and restraints. They had a target to find. "You guys got anything on this 'Anointed of Olaya' yet?"

Pilor II Along the outer length of the Perseus Arm, former Khanate Space Lor time mark 1753.1 [January 13, 2018 (Terran Calendar)] Liora Sylestrin, also known as the Praetorian Spectra, guided the sleek form of the Kavaca through the smoky atmosphere of Pilor II. The bleak rocky surface of the planet stretched out below the Praetorian spacecraft, spotted with rivers of lava that flowed up from below the surface. Located within the boundaries of a confederation of worlds that had remained independent from the Stellar Khanate following the Incursion and the return of Star Khan, Pilor II had become a focal point of industrial activity. Several newly formed corporations had been granted mining rights on the world, seeking to harvest the numerous precious minerals and ores to fuel the development of the confederation worlds. But recently some of those mining activities had been disrupted to such a degree that it had led to a request for assistance from the Praetorians. And so Spectra was piloting the Kavaca towards the Regulas Corporation's main facility on the world, along with her fellow Praetorians Moon-Moth and Cavalier. The facility had just come into view, a larger collection of attached buildings that stretched out on numerous pillars that kept them well above several lava rivers that flowed beneath. The Kavaca's sensors locked onto the landing beacon for the designated landing platform as they drew near.

Signa System Towards the inner edge of the Perseus Arm Lor time mark 1752.9 [January 12, 2018 (Terran Calendar)] The Signa system was located just out of the inner most edge of the Lor Republic. Its location, along with that of its neighbors, had long afforded it protection from the threats of the Grue Unity and the Stellar Khanate. This safety, and friendly relations with the Lor allowed those systems to flourish through peaceful cooperation and trade. When the Incursion had come and the Communion forces struck at the very center of Lor space, Signa and its neighbors found themselves suddenly on the forefront of the conflict. Their limited defense forces, even combined, were little match for the Communion, and it was only timely assistance by the Lor and other Coalition forces that prevented the sector from being completely overrun. As it was, several of Signa's neighboring systems were taken and cyberformed by the Communion, although large portions of their populations were evacuated to Signa and other neighboring systems. Once the Incursion was over, Signa continued to welcome its displaced neighbors as work began to try to undo the damage the Communion had done. Recently the system had been experiencing a rash of crimes committed by beings using supertech equipment. The local law enforcement had been unable to control the situation, so Signa’s representative to the Coalition Counsel had requested the assistance of the Praetorians. So now Traveller, Barrier, Hyperslice and Queenie were making their way along a corridor inside one of the orbiting cities above Signa Prime, the fifth planet from the large blue star at the center of the system. Large portions of the corridor were covered with translucent walls, which provided impressive views of the sprawling orbital city below, and the planet and star beyond. "I am so pleased for your assistance Praetorians." Stated Counselor Farrin in Gal Standard, the Signaian ambassador that had requested their assistance. Like all Signian natives, Counselor Farrin was a squat humanoid, covered with short dark brown fur. "A most vexing problem for our local law enforcement, but one that you should be able to handle."

January 2018 Freedom City Great Bay Aquaria was alone tonight, resting on the shores of Great Bay as she looked up at the silent stars overhead. It was a holy night, a night of great alignments and portents - a night that in old days would have meant a hunt for a pod of dolphins or perhaps a great whale, and then a great feast to follow among all of the tribe. Given the time of year and her age, she'd have probably killed a beast herself, bathed in its guts beneath the light of the Moon, and fed scraps to the healthiest of her children. But instead she was alone tonight, several days swimming or more from the nearest Deep Ones, with the promise of her rubber and plastic bed at home when the morning came. She had a special mission tonight, a mission that required solitude. The alignments of this day would give power to all who sang the Names of the Gods Below or the creatures who dwelt in Sea of Stars - a power that on the Surface was usually taken by madmen and cultists, twisted creatures whose plans to summon avatars of Dagon and Hydra would only bring pain and suffering to gods and creatures alike. The blasphemers would take the names of the gods and use them in vain, and do nothing but bring contempt to every being like her. She was waiting in this sacred spot on the beach, a spot sanctified during the Archevil invasion before she'd even set foot on Freedom City's shores, for Surfacer cultists to arrive. If one did come, she had big plans, oh yes. Her armor was stored safely beneath her on the beach, cunningly buried beneath the sand - she squatted on her haunches before a fire she'd kindled, the light reflected in her great dark eyes, and began to sing in a bellowing, resonate bass, just loud enough that any creature on the beach would be sure to hear her.

GM Southside, Freedom City, New Jersey Sunday April 6, 2014 10:14 PM It had been several months since Foreshadow had first gotten on the trail of a mysterious new underworld figure. That incident had suggested that this mysterious figure might have abilities similar to Foreshadows. In the intervening time, Foreshadow experienced difficulty in trying to track down the figure, all the while the mystery man began making moves to disrupt the criminal underworld in Southside. It had been less than 48 hours since Foreshadow had gone to an underground night club to speak with an arms dealer, Grigory Salnikov. Given the assassination attempt on Salnikov, the arms dealer had been willing to provide Foreshadow with information on one of his customers, the mysterious man behind the recent unrest in parts of the Southside criminal world. Salnikov had revealed that the mystery man Foreshadow had been chasing went by the name Foresight. While Salnikov could not confirm whether he had abilities similar to Foreshadow's, he did indicate that Foresight appeared to have an uncanny ability to predict events. Salnikov had also provided the address of a location used by Foresight to which the arms dealer had delivered shipments in the last couple of months. Given that Foreshadow had already encountered one super powered operative working for Foresight, as well as another that was at least highly trained, the costumed crime fighter had decided it might be time to even the odds some. So, as he sat on the roof of another warehouse, watching the location provided by Salnikov, he was joined by Dee Farrington, who also was Synapse of the UK superteam Vanguard. They had been in place about an hour, and thus far there had been very little activity within the warehouse. A couple of blocks way on the street… Harry Hound and Freddy Furlong pulled the Caddy to a halt on a dark street, looking over at an old warehouse a few blocks away. The two private detectives generally focused on cases within the Fens or the surrounding neighborhoods, but when Lucy Harker had given them info about a power struggle taking place in Southside between some unknown new underworld figure and the existing gangs that was leaving a trail of bodies, the two had agreed (reluctantly in Harry's case) to investigate the matter. It had taken a bit of work, and some "convincing" by Freddy, but the two had eventually gotten a lead to the warehouse that sat in front of them. According to their sources, the group that was muscling in on existing groups' turf was using the building to channel the illegal arms shipments that were fueling their takeover.

Codex Immortus: Voin Zhenshchina Soho, London, 1961 Verily, 'twas a most pleasant summer evening, with long shadows from dusky red sun, and the air, in those days, was not quite so $£%" as it had been in years before or years hence. This was London, greatest city in the world. Home to the swinging sixties and everything most splendid that circled that decade of style and hedonism. Club Immortus, London, was the oldest of the Clubs, and arguably the most splendid. Paris had better food, Freedom City had better function. But the club in London had a lovely feel, of warm old wood, crackling fire, and musty smoke. The Library was full of wonderful old tomes, some extremely rare editions, and even some very dangerous eldritch texts that would threaten the brains of any reader. Mr. Murk had money and contacts everywhere. Operating from the shadows, he had tendrils in many pies. Much of it was due to hard work, grind, experience, and canny judgement, mixed with a true skill in making friends (or in some casing exerting leverage on useful enemies). His visions of the future had, of course, considerably helped. An invite had been sent to Voin Zhenshchina, for an evening drink. The Ministry of Powers had been most helpful in procuring this invite. Steak and wine, straight from Paris. Mr. Murk waited patiently in the dining hall, mulling over his Russian. A bit rusty, but still there.

GM January 5, 2018 The winter weather wasn't exactly forgiving. Record lows and snowfall were a strain on everyone's patience in sone form or another, and nowhere was it more obvious than among people who worked for Freedom City's social services. Homeless shelters struggled to find room for everyone, from adults to runaways... The situation was taxing enough on everyone that no one really noticed when vacancies opened up. A bed here, a room there... no one questioned it; rather, they were thankful that someone else could be housed, and the fairest assumption was that the previous occupant had moved on. Transient population", they siad. Some people knew better. All Nathan Ratliff wanted to know was 'why'. A local volunteer and social worker, Nathan was well known among his peers for being a big-hearted busybody. So in late December when several runaways he'd been working with vanished, Nathan refusded to believe they'd simply packed up and gone somewhere else. A week later... Nathan didn't show up for work.

01/07/2018, Late evening Lincoln - Between Yin and Yang Convenience Store The Noreaster which had swept over Freedom City had slowed the torrential pulse of the city into something softer and more manageable. The streets, quiet on a Sunday night, were especially so with the foot of snow which had brought things to standstill. However, the city, and its heroes were quite used to the Eastern Seaboard weather, and things were already getting back to normal. The Yin and Yang Convenience Store was a relatively new establishment in the Asian dominated area of Lincoln, but had quickly gathered a patronage due to the warmth of it's older owners. They seemed to be able to really put customer first policies in place and managed to get a rather wide variety of ethnic produce and foods to stock the shelves. However, on this Sunday night, the only person in the store was Zhu, who was sitting behind the register reading a book on Practical Applied Mechanical Systems for one of her classes. Her parents had sacrificed much to get her to America and the Claremont academy and she did her best to help them out when she could. Sunday night was usually a good night for her to give them some well deserved time off while she minded the store. While the store was not in the best of area's, it wasn't as deadly as the Fen's and the routine patrols by police and heroes did a lot to keep crime down in the immediate area. It didn't help that there was a liquor store adjacent to them, but at least they had a nice metal grate over their windows to deter the criminal element from the block. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she was making notes as she read, the computer next to her seeming to dictate things nearly on it's own. Outside a plow rumbled through the streets and she looked at the blinking yellow lights as the faded down the major thoroughfare. With any luck, she'd be able to close up early and get back to her dorm. She had a new dance track she wanted to play for Lexa and get her opinion on it.