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Beneath Claremont Academy 8:42 AM July 10, 2017 By design the impervium cell was nearly empty. The front wall was transparent due to a process that Winifred would have usually been much more interested to learn about and the cube was large enough to pace about comfortably but the only furniture was a smooth bench large enough to also serve as a bed, constructed from the same material as the walls. There was a television set outside the transparent wall, featuring rather clever motion controls so as to forego the need of a remote control but the young alchemist didn't want it even for the white noise just then. Instead she sat on the bench beside the pillow she'd brought with her, wearing the oversized flannel shirt she'd adopted as sleepwear. She hugged her legs against her chest and pressed her face into her knees, letting out a long, weary sigh as she continued silently reciting the elements.

Celestial Spirit Fellowship Tuesday, July 10th, 2017 7:32 PM The heat was breaking as the sun dragged down towards the horizon. But it still felt hot enough to light a fuse. Samantha Lemire sat on a graffiti-splattered bench in front of the shelter, nursing a cigarette like a shipwrecked man might nurse clean water. She looked out on the dirty street as the lamps flickered and fought against the twilight. As a charity worker in the Country Club, Sam had seen a lot and handled half of it with her own two hands. On a number of those occasions, she'd wished she'd had thicker gloves. But she knew what it was like to get her hands dirty and deal with the muck of the world. Not like this, though. This was something else entirely. She fought against her nerves as the steel door to the shelter scraped open. She turned to find Michael, one of the volunteers, waiting in the frame. "They show up yet?" "No. How's our... guest?" "He's fine. Sleeping it off, for now. As for the rest of him --" "Just focus on the bit that's sleeping. The others?" "They're fine, for now. If he wakes up..." Sam shook her head. "I gave him enough Benadryl that he could sleep through the Fourth of July." "You could have used the Haldol --" "There are people who need that. And he's not mad. As we know it." She turned back to the street, waiting for her guests. "Mind you, I'm sure these guys know it better..."

July 2017 Greenbank As the gateway slammed shut beneath Phantom's spells, Fast-Forward reflexively threw a hand over his eyes, shielding himself from the flare of mystic energies that meant that doorway to the Mayan realms were closed - for now. Quiet settled into the warehouse now, minus the scuttling and yowling of the few werejaguars that Ix Chel had created upon her first emergence to the realm of men. Or so his mystic book had told him, when he'd gone searching through it, not long before the beginning of the investigation earlier that week that had led he and Phantom to the same spot. "Thanks for this, Phantom," he said, standing with unexpected quietitude on the burn mark on the floor where the portal had lain. "Maria wouldn't have appreciated this getting out." He sighed softly, almost imperceptibly, thinking of FORCE Ops, El Gato, and how fate had led him to be the custodian of their memory even though he'd spent over a decade as one of their greatest enemies. - There were considerably more werejaguars than Daggers had anticipated. He'd run into them running out the back of the warehouse, the group of half-dozen in what had been security guard uniforms turning out to be formidable foes. "You'll be the first in Ix-Chel's new army! The jaguar goddess will be the birth of a new age!"

GM 10:27 PM, July 12th, 2017 Center For Disease Control and Development: Atlanta, Georgia Most of the time, epidemiology needed to be public in order to work properly. People needed to be made aware of the disease. They needed to be educated on what they could do to prevent it. Public awareness was one of the greatest tools in the arsenal of epidemiology. This was not one of those times. "We don't know what's causing this?" Hyperactive looked at the "vector" as it banged against the glass. He was working on his second two liter bottle of Dr. Pepper. This was gonna be a long night. "No and we felt that it was better to get some support before heading out into the field." Replied Dr. Yang, the epidemiologist in charge of the crisis. "President Cahill has you on his list of heroes to call when we find ourselves up a creek without a paddle." "Sure, this is exactly what I signed on for. I'm gonna call in a little help, I promise they'll be discreet." Hyperactive was already feeling well out of his depth here. He grabbed his phone and hammered out two quick messages. "Woodsman, have a situation that may require some stealth and discretion. I think you may be able to help here. I have a situation in Georgia. I can pick you up." The scatterbrained Speedster sent. "Mr. Daggers. Names Hyperactive. Druid gave me your number. Got a situation in Georgia, could use some help. Drop your location, I can be there, fast." "Give me a few moments to retrieve some friends Doctor." Hyperactive said as he waited for a reply.

South Pointe, Miami Beach 10th July 2017, Early Afternoon One of the places you went to in Miami if you wanted to see and be seen it was Miami Beach and today the one place to be seen was the extravagant beachside party to celebrate the coming of age of heiress Ruth Aster. The entire party had been painstakingly designed around an Ancient Egyptian theme, from the Hollywood accurate costumes of the staff to the slightly less accurate but much more expensive designer dress that Ms. Aster wore. The whole party area was even decorated with Ancient Egyptian art, the center pieces being two massive, and real, statues of Horus and Set towering over the party and glaring at each other. The guest list was a veritable who's, who of the business and entertainment world with rumors abound that Tom Cruise and Sofia Boutella had been invited due to the suitably timed themed. One thing that Ruth had wanted, and had sent feelers through almost every media method for weeks, was for Ancient Egyptian themed superheroes, with a promise of a very generous donation to their charity of choice if they'd turn up to the party to meet the young heiress.

Election Day It was early yet, and Ditra Fifty-Five wandered out into the Main Plaza feeling sick to her stomach; she'd just voted in the Republic Election, and part of her thought it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference who won. The green-skinned Nameless agent wandered over to a public bench and plopped down on it, still with her arms wrapped protectively around her belly. Like many of her more 'humanoid' behaviors, it was partly programed and partly legitimate, but it meant something a bit different when a Nameless did it. The lower abdomen is where a unit's pilot rested, safely coiled up inside an armored 'womb', so the gesture was really one of protection towards the bug that was the living core of cyborg. Ditra sat there for several minutes, watching the crowds line up outside the polling place. Street vendors began to set up their carts to serve the voters, and soon the smells of grilled meats and hot drinks wafted her way, and her pilot shifted and wriggled inside her, filled with pangs of hunger. I guess I did forget to have any breakfast before we left... And with that, she hopped up off the bench and strolled back across the street towards a Gandari noodle seller, his head wreathed in steam. "Good morning, young lady? What can I get for you?" "Good morning! I'll have a deep bowl of the ghat soup, with extra noodles, aaaaand a bottle of Triple-V." "Very good, miss! Coming right up!"

GM The Loiterer, Osshrak Commerical Station, Edge of the Orto Nebula The Loiterer was one of the few establishments on OCS that weren’t subject to strict security. Hence, it was where the traders, crewmembers and other assorted folks with shady histories, bounties on their heads, or just a certain sense of adventure, stayed. OCS itself was not particularly notable, a medium size trading hub serving as a refuelling station for a few long routes. And, thanks to its position, a popular destination in some traveller circles. Not that any of them would ever come to a place like the Loiterer, where the weekly maintenance budget could probably buy you two or three glasses at most. It was by far not the worst place Bliss had ever been in, still. The past few days had been rather unspectacular, and there wasn’t really much of a reason to even stay. Or at least there hadn’t been, until a somewhat familiar face entered the building. Large, muscular and grey. Like always, wearing a white helmet. Kresh Melek, one of the Praetorians. Bliss had seen her before. And for a Praetorian to be in a place like this, it had to mean something.

Trinity Hospital June 28, 2017 "Another one?" Ellie Espadas asked, watching as a weakly groaning man in multiple layers of worn clothing was wheeled past on a stretcher. Behind the check-in desk Joanne simply hummed an affirmation, focusing on the data she was entering. Ellie couldn't blame her for her laissez-faire attitude. This had to make at least a dozen similar cases over the past few days: people left weak and drifting in and out of consciousness. If this case matched the others after a night's sleep with an IV he'd be up and about with full-body aches and hangover-like symptoms for his troubles that would gradually subside over the course of the day. The prevailing assumption among the staff was that a new recreational drug was to blame, though so far none of the blood work had shown any evidence to support the theory. It didn't help that several of the sufferers had turned out to have warrants out ranging from petty theft to assault; one of them had reportedly collapsed in the middle of an attempted mugging. With the look of a man getting off of a double shift, Hernandez wandered over to join the so-far one-sided conversation, fingers laced behind his bald head. "Picked that one up outside a convenience store. Owner found him in a heap while he was taking out the trash, said something about it being dark or seeing a big shadow? I dunno, guy's English wasn't great in the first place and he was shook over the whole thing, yeah?" The big man rubbed his face and leaned heavily against the wall. "Had a baseball bat next to him so I'm guessing armed robbery. Braugher's all 'don't assume' but what, he's a Comets fan? C'mon." It was Ellie's turn to make a vague murmur in reply, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the supposed robber disappear behind a pair of double doors. A junkie collapsing in the middle of trying to get money for another hit was a tidy enough story but the patients she'd seen didn't seem like they were going through withdrawal, they seemed... drained. There were stranger things than designer drugs in Freedom City. "Where was that convenience store, again...?" "Hm? Oh, y'know, the one a block down from St. Sebastians, on the corner with the yellow sign. I hear they found a few more like that over in Greenbank, too. Who knows how many that makes now." Hernandez realized a little belatedly that he was talking largely to himself and a still disinterested Joanne as Ellie had already begun to stride purposefully toward the door.

Ah, summer. Moira loved the warmth of the sun. Apollo's gaze upon her was delightful. But for every good, thing that she had, a little rain must fall. Not rain in the physical since. A giant divine-mechanical bull was giving her the chase. Not that she was running from it or it was running from her. They collided head on in the West End. Eris and Hephaestus had stepped up their antagony. This being the most blatant of it. As they clashed, it was clear more than brute strength was needed. "Would any of you great gods want to lend a hand? Apollo, your heat? Ares, you great fury? Dionysus, your zeal? Aphrodite, your..." -Alright, one crazy trip comin up!- It was Dionysus answering the call. Something sparked in her. A dark explosion, disintegrating the bull, but that wasn't the last of it. She felt a bit overloaded like there was something extra on it...

June 20th, 2017 Claremont Corinne was dancing in the main quad. Not just lightly, mind you. It was a full routine, as she practiced unconcerned about how she might look. Wearing sport earbuds, she closed the world down to just her and what she was doing. Wearing a pair of retro sneakers, with high ankles, a patterned white and blue pair of harem pants, and a patterned t-shirt that matched the pants. She was not a delicate type of person, so her dancing reflected that. Corinne felt she wasn't as good at precise, technical dancing. She also believed what a lot had told her regarding her size hindering her. So she tried hard. Harder than anyone else. She was a perfectionist, and held herself to an ideal, a pinnacle that she might not be able to reach, or, if she did, maintain. But what she believed, and what the realities were divergent. Corinne Conrad was one of the best dancers in her prior school, She showed that now. Her leaps, the arching of her body straddling the line of violent and precise. She was not aware of having a visitor. Or that somewhere in the middle of what she was doing, practicing and working through a routine she hoped to earn her spot in Julliard with, that somewhere in the middle she started to use powers to move on air.

Earth-Phoenix. United States of America. New Jersey. Several miles outside of Atlantic City. June 21, 2012 (Earth-Phoenix time). 11:30 PM. The young woman was short, barely five feet tall. She was pale and thin, as if she’d been sick for a long time and perhaps still was. She was lucky if she weighed 90 pounds. There was definitely an air of fragility about her. She stood alone, dressed in a worn black dress and heavy black boots, a mysterious bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Her hair was jet black, straight, and down to her shoulder blades. Her eyes were blue, and strikingly so. Most people who saw her would see someone in need of help, a pitiable example of humanity. However, what most people saw was not the truth. This was the most powerful Black Mage on Earth-Phoenix. This was Blackrose, leader of the runaway children’s group named the Exiles. Normally, she wouldn’t be alone like this. Her physical fragility was no act. However, fellow Exiles founder Radical Dreamer (owner of the most powerful variant of future sight on Earth-Phoenix) had insisted she come alone to this place. A field by the sea, near a small town in New Jersey. She had come alone, but the rest of the main Exiles were close by, in that small town. Both Flare and Windstorm could be here in under half a minute, Flare especially. All the same, it was…weird and unsettling to be alone. Blackrose realized with a start that she hadn’t been entirely alone like this in years. Ever since the quest for what graced her wrist. And even then, she’d soon encountered Cory, and the rest was history. “Are you sure, Dreamer?” Blackrose spoke to the warm night air. Dreamer was slightly telepathic as well, and she was well within his range. She frowned slightly, listening to one of her oldest friends speak in her mind. “No, it just seemed weirder than usual for you. I forgot I even had this dress.” She listened a little more. “Okay, so the dimension piercing spell? I mean, that’s weird. I’ve never used it before. I didn’t even know you knew it existed.” Dreamer spoke more, only for her mental ears. “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about opening a hole to there. That’s the blank spot between dimensions, Dreamer. It’s really dangerous.” She sighed, listening to him again. “Yeah, you’re never wrong, I know. It’s up to me to do it right. So shush, oh Radical One.” Blackrose extended her hand out (the one with the bracelet on it) and a quarterstaff seemed to form (right in her hand) out of the darkness of the night itself. It was wooden, but so black light itself seemed unable to fully escape it. She spoke words in a language that had been dead (destroyed for the evil its speakers once did) for millennia when the Messiah walked the earth, and what appeared to be a black dust storm sprung up out of nowhere. However, the “dust” was Black Magic and the wind was her will. Thus nothing was disturbed. She spoke faster, quickly reaching a crescendo. The staff in her hand somehow got blacker, and a hole in the fabric of reality tore open in front of her. Depositing on the ground one Wesley Knight, currently going by the superhero name Vitalas, late of Freedom City. Which, to his surprise, he was no longer in. Despite seeming to be in the exact same geographical location. Blackrose spoke a few more words in that terrible language, and the hole closed before anything else came through. Thankfully. She leaned on her staff, a little tired. She’d never had the stamina for staying up late, among so many other things. “Are you all right?” She spoke to the bewildered stranger. “Going through the Void can be traumatic, or so I’ve read. Ah, and I didn’t summon you. You have someone else to thank for your trip to the Void. I just pulled you out of it.”

GM Disclaimer: this thread will have politically incorrect white 'nationalist' villains that get punched in the face. No one writing here agrees with the very few things these idiots will be spouting. DJ Eclectic's concert was in need of a venue and Moira loved the idea of live music. Especially when it helped the local talent out! So posters were plastered all over the city. Every pole had at least one. Friday, June 16th. 9PM. Morley's pub. West End. Free admission." Below that was in a smaller font was the address. Blow that in the same sized font was Two Drink Minimum. White Knight II (Aidan Miller) looked at the poster with a sigh, letting out some curse word when he saw the poster with DJ Eclectic's face on it. "Like why do they even let people like her even work here?" His bodyguard, Big Girl (Mary Forth), and his yes man, Southern Charm (George Kent), nodded in agreement. "I don't know about you two," Aidan said scratching his chin, "but maybe we should make an appearance." George beamed, "like our constituents did with the park play. We could reach a lot of people." Mary grinned and nodded silently. "So, all for one and one for all then," Aidan checked his watch, "we have about four hours. Let's go plan out speech." Later That Evening, 15 minutes before the show DJ Eclectic's crew was setting up the equipment, and there was quite a crowd coming to see her! Moira was tending bar. DJ Eclectic was tending to set up, rehearsing while doing a sound check. Spitfire was conversing with folks in the crowd, being part of the crowd himself.

GM Maybelle McQueen, Queenie It had been a long trying night. The Moore family reunion was one of the most trying ones. Sure, the guy who made Freedom City hell in the late 80s and early 90s, but he had a family. And money. So, a labor of love of your job was. Franklin was all talk surrounded by people. He knew of Queenie's heroics. If you weren't one of the best chefs in town for impromptu large gatherings he would have went elsewhere. After the restaurant was clean and the employees gone, you took to the sky. It was clear and refreshing. When you got home, there was a light on in the kitchen. As you called out, you heard a voice you hadn't heard in a long time. "Yeah honey," your deceased husband said, sitting at the kitchen table in the work clothes you saw him last in, "don't worry about... where am I?" Lynn Epstein, Grimalkin You were alone, looking through orders, just before the store opened. Lady Liberty merchandise was flying off the shelf ever since that biopic was made. In a world full of superheroes, people had their favorites. You got a text from Gretchen, as you were just about done and the doors were open. "Who's this?" Followed by a face that you knew Instantly. It was Ren. Nanowire. Alive. "I walked in our home to find him. Said he wanted to see you. Know where you were." A quick message followed, "Is there something you want to tell me?" Robert Spalding, Vita Nexus "Son," you heard you father for the first time in a long time. It was a questioning. he saw you using your powers to dispatch a bunch of hooligans trying to rob a parts store late at night. He seemed to come from absolutely out of nowhere. "You, you have it? That explains a lot now that I think about it." Your father smiled, healthy as the day is long. A quick scan revealed that it was a person, and it was alive. But something did not match up with 'being alive'. Mechanical wasn't the term for it, but He was running on human interaction. But for all intents and purposes, this was your father. Dr Dmitri Ivanovich Peshov, Comrade Frost "Champion," you heard Hel's voice from beyond. "Do not be alarmed, I'm here to deliver to you a task. People from the realm of the dead are coming up missing. I want you to investigate. Find out who's taking them." And that's the command you were given. No other words were spoken. Your investigation lead you to many different people with seemingly returned friends and family. Though they knew nothing of being dead.Just remembering their last healthy moment before dying and showing up in their family's home. Leilani Keli'i, Volcanic Unfortunately not all people coming back were nice and/or good people. Villains, yes. But abusive and alcoholic relatives also. Some ran for cover, others had their past to deal with. Still, there were protectors looking to do good in the world. Alive or dead they weren't going to get a free walk. Still, you heard the pleas that the dead had come back to life. That something was very very wrong.

June 21, 2017 Winifred considered herself to be in fairly good shape. Certainly she was fitter than she'd ever been prior to arriving at the Academy, largely thanks to the demanding 'physical education' classes that were part of the curriculum, not to mention the extracurriculars with which she found herself involved. Consequently she did not feel particularly compelled to spend any of her remaining free time making use of the school's many training facilities, yet with classes finished for the day that was exactly where she was headed with quick, clipped strides. Robin had been spending less and less time in their shared dormitory room over the past weeks - months, really. Her friend was absent many nights, out patrolling the Fens neighbourhood Winifred suspects, either sleeping elsewhere or catching brief naps during the day. When she was about campus is was almost exclusively to train, pushing herself harder and harder. At first Winifred had said nothing under the assumption that Robin was spending more time with her boyfriend and later she'd reasoned that there was nothing wrong with being driven, especially as she focused on her own projects. Eventually it had become clear that Robin was pointedly avoiding socializing, intentionally keeping to herself. In Winifred's experience that was the sort of behaviour the preceded downing an untested serum of one's own devising. Metaphorically, in this case. Stepping into the Academy's less fanciful gymnasium the alchemist pursed her lips slightly as she scanned the large room. This was only the first stop on her list of likely places to find Robin but she was hoping traipsing across rooftops wasn't going to be necessary.

June, 2017 There aren't a lot of things in Sanctuary that look at space. Maybe there should be, after the pirate attack a few years ago, but honestly that was repulsed easily enough that most of the citizens of Sanctuary paid it never-no-mind. They had Fleur de Joie, they had Gabriel, they had Gaian Knight, the giant bees, all their other strange protectors from other dimensions - why worry? And so it was that when the giant silver spaceship descended through the atmosphere on a direct course to Mayberry, close at hand to Fleur de Joie's house, hardly anyone realized it was coming until it had arrived in the upper atmosphere - and the locals weren't immediately inclined to panic. It hovered there visible by binoculars and the sharp naked eye, spinning slowly around its central axis, looking for all the world like a shiny chrome flying saucer from a science fiction movie of the 1950s, even down to extraneous fins placed in each quadrant. From above, with its tall central axis, it might have looked a bit like a compass. When reached by radio, the ship's feminine voice was tinny and old-fashioned too, sounding oddly like it was coming from a vacuum tube radio. "Greetings from the Stellar Ochlocracy! We come bringing gifts to facilitate relations! Where may we land?" The vessel was good-sized, at five hundred feet long, close to the length of a US Navy destroyer.

Freedom City, New Jersey June 20, 2017 Afternoon The man at the big board tapped a button on his control console and spoke into his microphone; on the other side of the soundproofed glass his voice was the only thing that could be heard. "Could we get a sound check, Asli? Just need to check some levels." Asli Saddik stepped up to the mic hanging in the middle of the chamber and licked her lips, leaning in close. "Check check Cyril, one two three four. Seven sniping snakes slipped and slithered up sinuous stairs while Sally and Susy sang stucco shanties. Kill Craig's cat and cripple Katy's kibble caboose. Tip toe and take two tables to taste Tali's tippled tacos." She stepped back and stretched, long arms almost reaching the top of the recording studio. "Those levels look good, Cyril? I don't want to be futzing with equipment all day." Cyril tweaked some knobs and bobbed his head as jerking lines on the screen leveled and smoothed out. "Looks good on our end. Ready to start when you are." He looked reached his hand out to a particular button and then paused, looking over at the other man seated at the big table. Joe Macayle wasn't a regular feature at the Stone Soup recording booth but at least he was smart enough not to touch any of the intimidating array of sliders and knobs on the board that seemed to stretch for a city block. Cyril caught his eye and gave him a mischievous wink. "Ready to see the magic happen?"

Content warning: Mild swearing, Moderate Body Horror (Lovecraftian, not gore) GM 17th June, Bedlam City One hot afternoon... As usual, Fat Joe put extra onions in his hot dog for the Tattered Man. His onions were quite nice. Unlike the bread or the meat which were meagre and passable if one was being generous. Ever since the Tattered Man had helped Fat Joe he had always got extra onions. Fat Joe was as tall, bald, and rotund as ever. His smile was no less beaming. Maybe, since the Bad Beat had burned down and Blowfish was in hiding, well, maybe he smiled just that bit brighter. "Whats up, my friend? Any news? Any good jokes for me?"

GM Friday, June 9th, 2017 Caniff Street, The Waterfront, Freedom City 6:21 PM Summer break was rapidly approaching. Which meant a few things. Lots of tests, and lots of people getting ready to leave Claremont for a while. Jann Fa-Re was amongst them, summer break being the only time of the year he had enough time to head home. The fact the dates coincided with Sun-Stay, the Avians’ largest holiday, certainly were a factor too. There still were a few things that had to be taken care of in Freedom City. Jann had known that Corinne, one of Claremont’s most recent students, had been trying to learn more about locations in the city. So he’d simply dragged her along. That was two hours ago. Ever since, the two of them had worked their way northwards from Claremont Academy, with Jann mentioning and pointing out all sorts of places, from stores, to a goth club/bar that looked like an old church, to places that were easy to hide in. Some had taken up only a few seconds (a small park not too far off the road (“difficult to find, keep it in mind”), some had taken longer. The mall had taken quite a while, with Jann buying all sorts of assorted things, but specifically not heading to the supermarket yet (“will be too much weight, on the way back home”). Right now, the two of them were sitting in a small Mexican themed café/restaurant, Jann surrounded by, at this point, quite a few bags. He’d specifically ordered multiple glasses of their special salsa, and was now waiting for the waiter to deliver them, all the while looking over a list on his phone and drinking some soda.

GM No one knew who Melissa Milani. No one cared. In her mind she was a quiet little dweeb from a poor family. The eldest of twelve siblings. When she got out of high school, she distanced herself from her family. Took the first bus to the east coast to live it up. But that was not to be.On the way to freedom, the bus crashed killing all of the passengers. Except one. Melissa rose from the ashes, but was different. She was bigger, stronger, more important. From that day on she took the name Princess. She found that she could turn back into her old useless self if no one was watching. She used this to do whatever she wanted. For all the world knew, Melissa Milani was dead. Princess was the one they had to deal with. A few years later, she had made her way to her destination. Well, kind of. This was no Atlantic City, but it did have some awesome people there. Princess could get or take help. Floating through a string of robberies, she teamed up with every pretty boy or girl that would appease her. On the other side of the tracks, Denise Weaver grew up pampered getting everything she wanted. 'Daddy I want a pony,' she'd say and poof, a pony she'd have. 'Mommy I want dance lessons,' poof, dance lessons! Though later on, she opened her mouth and stuck her foot in it. She wanted superpowers. And, unfortunately, her parents knew exactly where to get them. The DNAscent Project. And they had enough money to go through with it. This was the final straw in Denise's sanity. She had the ability to fly and shoot energy with the power of her mind. She didn't have to ask, she could take what she wanted! And that she did. Though the novelty did wear off after a while, she could take whatever she wanted, but she had no one to share it with. Princess and Denise had their eye on the same prize one day. They didn't know each other, but they saw they were kind of fighting on the same side. So after they made their get away, they shared more than just the money they'd stolen. They shared a few fun laughs, some drinks, each other. They were kind of inseparable. Princess was doing it because Denise was hot. Denise was doing it because she really thought she'd found a friend and partner in crime. Through out the past couple of months they'd team up exclusively. Which brings us to now. They were both kind of hungry and there was this place called 'The Southern Queen' they could eat and knock over. "The food's good," Denise said flipping through a manual as she floated along lackadaisically. "I don't care," Princess said holding her stomach, "just point the way before my I drop. Princess needs food badly!" Denise grinned, "if it's really good we might come up some." The two rolled into the front door of 'The Southern Queen', waiting to be seated.

June 10, 2017 Freedom City, New Jersey Mid-morning The day was warm, months of overcast days finally giving away to blue skies and summery weather. Liberty Park was full of groups enjoying the fine weather; a group of breakdancers showing their moves near a fountain while teenagers in paper hats hawked from food carts. A group of gray-haired women bent their legs and moved their arms in wide Tai Chi circles. A pick-up game of ultimate frisbee verged dangerously near a family group. Warren Locke held himself in readiness to intervene anywhere. He stood under the shadow of the monorail line, across from the Kirby Museum, right where he had asked Mona to meet him, but he couldn't relax. Even on this bright and beautiful day he was constantly aware of his responsibilities as a hero-in-training. Part of that was his own choice, but he could also feel the static-electricity feel of the hologram projector making him look like a normal boy. It reminded him, subtly and at the back of his mind all the time, that he was different from everyone else out here.

GM Waterfront, Freedom City June 12th, 2017 Approximately 11 PM The heat of the day had faded to a cooler night, warm, not oppressively hot. Clouds above passed over the moon. The air smelled of saltwater by the docks. Four vehicles, two SUVs, two cars, pulled up to a modest two story office building. The men and women that got out of the vehicles were dressed in stylish, seasonal wear. Various bags and briefcases were shuffled into the building. Surrounding the central office were a series of smaller buildings and shipping containers arrayed carefully. Most of them, however, were sitting long in disuse, and the office building was maintained, but not often used.

Freedom City. North End. The Southern Queen. 1 PM. Maybelle McQueen was having a lovely day. It was the lunch rush. Dishes had to be cooked fast, served fast, and cleared fast. Her waitstaff was up to the task today. Her kitchen staff was on fire. Man, she’s really picked some good supporting staff. David, Matt, and Peter followed her orders precisely, and were more than competent. At times, even their creativity met her standards. Rose, Martha, Amy, and Clara kept the dining area both in order and moving. Everything was going just fine today. Maybelle grinning and slid the dish she was cooking onto a waiting plate. “Order up! Vegetarian stir fry with tofu balls!”

June 3, 2017 Bedlam City, United States Midmorning News traveled fast in the age of constantly connected, always-recording electronic devices. Two days ago an unbelievable video had popped up on YouTube of an odd, furry creature appearing near the artsy neighborhood of Bedlam. The video showed it appearing near Central Perk with an unconscious woman in his arms. Even the apathetic citizens of Bedlam wouldn't let a pretty woman be accosted like that and several of them confronted the beast, making it release the girl before driving it out. Before long the video showed an ambulance rolling up and checking over the woman. This morning's newspaper had contained a press release from Acting Chief Executive Officer Dunwoody on the activities of the "Woodchuck Man." It was a shockingly quick turn-around for a statement from Bedlam's finest, which could probably be put down more to the victim being a pretty, white girl rather than the video. Normally after the morning rush Central Perk got pretty quiet; even Terminal Drive wasn't quite enough to keep a coffee shop bustling at all hours. Now though everyone had to make do with convince-store coffee or even brew their own at home, because Central Perk was entirely encircled with yellow policetape. A crowd of grumbling twenty-somethings with a tendency towards scarfs were standing nearby, grumbling about a less-than-quality caffeine fix in the morning. Standing in the middle in her pink workout clothes, Ami Rask sipped at her water bottle. She knew there was something to find here, she just needed to figure out how to get the couple of police guarding the location to leave and how to get this crowd to disperse.

Emerald City, United States Saturday, May 27, 2017 Afternoon The sun beat down on Emerald City, reflecting off the Albian River in all shades of navy and cobalt and sapphire. It was the first wave of spring on the West Coast and the city was enjoying it. Families were playing out in Magic Hill Park or Elysian Forest. The campuses of Arcadia College and ECU were crowded with coeds studying or playing on the grass. The streets of Southern Shore were crowded with people enjoying the bright day. Tona Baudin reclined in a chair outside a coffee shop, tight trousers and a tee giving her the chance to show off her definition. It wasn't just because she enjoyed the warmth as much as anyone and enjoyed showing off the results of her exercise. She finally had a chance to show off Emerald City to her girlfriend; Sam wasn't around nearly as much as Tona wished she was, but now that she was here Tona intended to make up for lost time. "It's called Ghost Sightings," Tona said, frowning as she hunted for something on her phone, "but it's not all about ghosts. It's about a lot of stuff happening around town, like fishermen down the coast turning up monster-sized lobster shells or a rash of disappearances among the homeless. It's a really fun read and a good source of information. I just wish I could find the damn site on my phone..."

June 4, 2017 The rails out of Greenbank might not have run trains out to Goldman Quarry anymore but that didn't mean the abandoned hole in the ground never saw visitors. At some point in the early aughts a Claremont student who's name had been lost to the annals of high school history had hit upon the quarry as a good place to test out powers a little too destructive for supervised sessions in the Doom Room and the location had been passed from rebel to loner to misunderstood problem child. Every few years the faculty had reason to make it clear that students were to stay well away from the quarry but those who made use of it tended to prefer asking forgiveness rather than permission anyway. At least that's how Riley had explained it to Winifred after they'd begun searching for somewhere to test the new explosives they'd been tinkering with in the chemistry lab. "You're sure you know where you're going?" the alchemist shouted over the noise of the wind, seated behind the survivalist on his motorcycle. They'd already driven clear across the length of the city from Bayview but she still hadn't decided which was the more terrifying conveyance between Smith's bike and Sanderson's flying broomstick.