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GM Date: Unknown Location: A prison "Do you know the history of Ethiopia, 'Weekend'?" It was the first time the man in red had spoken, his face hidden behind a dizzying shimmer of digital distortion. The voice was deep, yet soft and mild, accented with the rolling vowels and curt consonants of another country. He smelled faintly acrid, like dusty books and ruins. He dressed finely, with an air of not just wealth but aristocratic and elegant bearing. The others hadn't said anything, but even so Roland could feel their presence. That is, they were tightly clustered behind the chair Roland was tied to, thick, gem-studded manacles binding his hands and feet together and behind the chair legs. He could feel and hear their breath, the slight shifting as they adjusted their feet, the rattle and clatter of something metal all of them carried in their hands. All of them started fidgeting the moment the man in red started talking. "Once, the kingdom of Shewa was a power that could defy even the Emperor. Even when Tewodros the Second defeated their Negus the region rose again and again in revolt. The Emperor settled their capital at Barara, the Negus' old seat, to claim that man's power and legitimacy for his own. The prince of Shewa, Menelik, became Emperor of Ethiopia in his own turn, a final insult to the pretender and his brood who thought they could take power with fire and sword." "I tell you this to remind you, sir, that what you have taken from us will soon be returned. My wise sister says "Wait." I say "Now", and no stripling boy untried by arms will defy me, not even in this, the seat of your pallid, wasting, leprous might." "In a few minutes our getaway vehicle will arrive and you will accompany me back to Africa. I cannot promise you such charming accommodations as this, but in time you might learn to accept gnawing, endless hunger and the surety that every chance to escape is a sham of my creation." The man in red held up the suitcase Weekend Man had, seemingly moments ago, been taking from the hands of a bunch of animal-themed robbers who had snuck into an ASTRO Lab wing. "Are you aware of the significance of daka crystals, Weekend?" This time, he paused and waited for an answer.

It wasn't entirely uncommon for Raina's training sessions to be unconventional, really. After all, Talya had made her practice running in heels and picking locks. The immortal spy's idea of well rounded skills was, to say the least, unconventional. Still, there was something out of the ordinary for even her training sessions when she arrived to the dojo and was hustled in quickly by a robed Talya. "Excellent, you're here. Just enough time to get changed," she told Raina, shooing her towards the restroom and a gown hanging on the back of a stall and a pair of shoes. "High end society - old money." Talya volunteered with a nod towards the cosmetics before vanishing towards the door to get ready herself although it wouldn't take her long at all. She was well used to the art of the quick change. "And we've just under an hour to be gone before Erik gets back for his evening lessons to make our escape. Never ask permission for what you can apologize for in the morning... Honestly, that's terrible relationship advice. I'm rather lucky that they're quite so indulgent. I'll wait outside the door."

Thursday, June 1st 2017 10:00AM Riverside Community Savings and Loan Sunny and Humid The blustery spring thaw had long since gave way to the balmy heat of the season and with it the accompanying "good cheer". Of course none of this was helped by a pace that could only be called glacial, in some final and cruel irony, with which the line moved. The line to the business window was little better given the number of business owners and managers grabbing extra change for the weekend ahead of the rush and the highly cash dependant nature of the artisanal shops that dotted the tree lined boulevards of riverside made it all the more necessary. Ray was reminded not for the first time why he usually made this busywork for an apprentice. Behind the almost angelic being, Ace Danger stood nonchalantly in his disguise as he waited to empty a safe deposit box left over from his brief semi disowned period in the late eighties. He wasn't even entirely sure what he had left in the riverside stash but clearly it had seemed important enough to go above and beyond the usual bus station locker that was the norm for that less than exemplary period of his long life. Idly examining the man in front of him he was much distracted by the twisting runes hidden by the more vibrant inks of the painted man lest he might have taken note of the unseasonably heavy coats of the men who slowly filtered into the busy bank and arrayed themselves around the lobby with practiced precision.

Bedlam City, 11:57 PM, May 20th, 2017 John was sitting in a corner. He had a brown bag bottle in his hand, but it was just water. He wore an old rayon jacket over a stained t-shirt and a pair of tattered, holey shoes. He kept his head down. He was just one more homeless man, one more bum. This face was an older man, graying, paunched, haggard. Looked like a man with a hard life. He didn't even look up when he heard the car stop, or the men get out of the car. There were two of them, one was noticeably heavier than the other, had heavier steps. He didn't look up when he heard the shuffle of footsteps heading into the alleyway. He didn't need to look up, he just sipped his brown bag water. There were more people in the alley, come from the other side. They were talking in hushed tones. This one was a gun deal. Someone was selling a couple of handguns to someone else. This one was important. His hearing was so much sharper than it used to be. He could hear the rats in the building behind him, skittering in the darkness. More importantly, he could hear the voices, the gun deal. The seller and buyer were easy to discern. He'd follow the buyer, first. Get the guns.

Friday, May 26th 3:40PM Main Lawn, Claremont Academy Team Industrial Light and Magic were under a tree, reading and studying. Besides her book back, the tall blonde had brought a bag of snacks as well as her hedgehog Percival, though he was curled up in a pocket. She was sprawled, wearing a a vintage AC/DC 'Thunderstruck' t-shirt under her acid washed coverall shorts, and a pair of floral tights underneath, her sandals off to the side. A book in hand, as the other held an apple that she was munching on. She had recently dyed her hair, making it an admix of faded blonde and pink. After some time she sets the book down, carefully on her chest, over the pocket where her hedgie was, and she lifted her head up to look at Hannah. "Do you ever look at the science textbooks, and just say 'Well I violate this law. And this law, and this law... Are they just guidelines more than rules?' Because I am having that right now." Hannah's roomie was often taking these little asides. And she was still fulfilling her efforts to drag Hannah outside as often as their schedules permitted, even if it was just coffee or smoothie runs.

GM June 4, 2017 The New Beginnings Ranch wedding venue. Outside Abilene, Texas The story had been on all the news channels in Texas. It was both very strange and not so strange at the same time. The not so strange part was that a disgruntled ex had crashed a wedding. Which in and of itself was not newsworthy. What was strange, and newsworthy, was the rest of it. The disgruntled ex had high tech weaponry, from the few wedding guests who had managed to flee, they had what seemed like sci-fi plasma rifles. The whole situation had gone bad fast. Hostages were taken and the police had cordoned off the venue. One psychotic screaming ex with a plasma rifle would have been more than enough for the Abilene police department. But there wasn't just one. There were three. One man and two women with high tech weaponry who had taken hostages inside of the ranch. "Listen just let us go!" One bride cried. One of the crashers responded by smacking her across the face. "Home Wrecker!" She snarled back and waved the rifle, discharging a few shots over the heads of the very terrified hostages.

May 24th. 3:30PM Claremont Gymnasium She had moved her things in, she had a lot of things, but she had paired down to what she would need for the upcoming summer. And Percival. Who was essential, and adorable. The she'd be getting after she found one. It was awkward. Hannah got to meet Corinne's folks, and brother. Who were lovely people, though her brother was exactly the younger 12-year old bro one would imagine him to be. Once it was all sorted, and her folks were gone after taking both girls out to what was mucho, mucho Thai food, Corinne announced, in their room, she needed to go to the gym and work out, and she invited Hannah along so that she could get some limbering and practice in. This was of course meaning she was wearing one of the gymnast long sleeved leotards that hid nothing, dark blue with red-orange trim and matching stylized lightning bolt with a lighter blue underscore. She threw a towel around her shoulders, and a pair of white ankle high Converses before she dragged along the other girl to the Gym. "I got to loosen up, and so do you. And don't worry, you've got a better build than I do. I'm like... seventy maybe ninety-six percent leg, and that causes so many problems, like it took be years to get basic tumbles right. Pizza, or milkshakes will be our reward! Or both!" Of course she had performed an impromptu Gene Kelly-esque routine between the dorms and this building, so how much needed to stretch and limber up may be a bit of a lie. Still once there, the tall blonde immediately set about working through some basic yoga poses and others, after her shoes were shucked and she was on the mat.

May 18 Pyramid Plaza, Freedom City Early Evening Huang stepped out of hte Cab with a hint of a cocky smile despite the wince at the late summer sun glinting off the towers of steel and glass all around them. There were many benefits of living in a major metropolis not the least of which was not having a driver's license for date night was easily countered by the preponderance of cabs and the fact that in a place like freedom driving was more the exception than the rule if one aimed for downtown. He certainly could have just cracked a portal through time and space to his destination of course. Though he had been informed that such casual use of magic would lead directly to further sanctions on his mystic machinations from his hypocrite parents. Besides his dad already thought his date was a bad influence. Flashing blood magic portals on a downtown street probably wouldn't help that. Turning to peek into the cab he reached out a hand, "And here we are." he presented like the occupant might find the garish pyramid themed building anything but appropriative. "I heard they do a mediterranean paleo-vegan chefs special." he offered encouragingly.

Content Warning: Cussing June 18, 2017 5:35AM Bedlam City, Wisconsin Fast-Forward skidded to a halt in the middle of Hardwick Park. Not bothering to take off his helmet, he looked around wildly before declaring "...what the hell?!" 5:37AM Chicago, Illinois Millennium Park Fast-Forward stared up at the statue of the Barnstormers, ignoring the few flatscans in the park this early. "WHAT THE HELL!?" This time he did take off his helmet, never mind the risk when he was away from home, and cast out with his psychic connection to his wife - finding her in Freedom City of all places? She'd probably felt that but she was just waking up - and he didn't have time for her to catch up with him. "Come on, man, wakeupwakeupwakeup-" He ran in a little circle, hitting himself on the side of the head, using the psychic feedback Paige had taught him to break out of an illusion. Nothing. Motherfucker! Finally deciding it was worth the risk, he put his helmet back on and girded his loins for the run into Freedom City. 5:38AM Freedom City In front of the Cline household Staring up at flatscan suburban hell for a long moment, Richard Cline took off his helmet in honest bafflement - and decided to leave it off since whatever was happening had evidently happened right through the helmet's psionic bafflers. He tried the door, found it locked, and banged on it - surprised when what looked like mundane wood didn't immediately shatter under his fist. "Hey!" he called, both out loud and psychically, hot anger and bafflement turning to fear loud in both voices, a second before winding up for a blow that would have knocked a regular door out of his hinges entirely. "What the hell is going on!?"

GM May 28th, Sunday, 2017, 5.51PM Maniac Park, Downtown Bedlam, Wisconsin The last set... It was finally here. The last step on a journey across America. The last song that would put an unquiet soul to rest. Val had met the shade named Jane Westerling months back, on a tour through LA. A cover of Michael Jackson's hit 'Billie Jean' had been interrupted by the lights shorting out, a spectral wail and the appearance of a translucent floating figure with every limb out of joint, her head twisted around and her enormous eyes on the back of her head. Thankfully, Jane had just been trying to cheer and her powers had gotten out of hand. After making her earnest apologies and providing her own illumination of shimmering ghostlight, she'd dropped backstage after the show to gush and make a very odd request. "The music makes me whole, Ms. Cain. If I could hear more like it...I could remember myself. Where I can rest. Will you carry me there?" All had become clear as the weeks went by, Val sharing her body with the bubbly, now-healed ghost. No longer monstrous, the music of her long-gone teenage years had formed her back into a flickering, tiny brunette with a small, catlike mouth and large green eyes. She couldn't go far from Val, not that she wanted to. After so long alone it had been a relief to meet someone who could talk to and see her all the time again. Most of the time, she stayed in Val's head and made occasional small talk or went on stream-of-consciousness rambles about this or that, occasionally hitting on a common interest. She had been a music fanatic as a kid growing in Woolverton back in 1983 and when she'd turned 15 in '84 had struck out into the world in a stolen Chevy, following the Star Gods, the greatest musicians of her time. Four years, many life lessons and one lost finger later, she'd finally come home. Then something had happened, she had died been shattered into pieces. A part of her in every place she'd heard the songs she'd loved so much. Right then, Val could feel Jane jittering with excitement as the first chords were struck. The crowd of tired-looking Bedlamites that had gathered in the sprawling, ill-kept park weren't nearly so enthusiastic, but they'd at least made signs. Val could see the less flattering ones at the back torn down, their holders the target of a perfunctory scrap. Everyone not involved kept their eyes front and ignored the shouts and curses drifting in the air. The people in suits around the stage weren't so relaxed. Valerie Cain's security detail were used to rough towns, but they'd been on edge since arriving in Bedlam, Wisconsin, almost paranoid thanks to the rundown city's enormous crime rate. But that couldn't stop the music or dampen the spirits of 'Sweet Child of Mine'

GM Claremont Academy, Headmistress's Office Approximately 4:30pm, May 18, 2017 Four students had been called into Headmistress Summer's office, by way of notes handed over quietly early in the day (so as not to raise a fuss about the matter): Riley Smith, Winifred Wei, Matthew Rivera, and Raina Sanderson. Miss Summers sat behind her desk, typing away as the students filed in, a couple of quick clicks closing whatever she'd worked on, before she turned and faced the students. She sat back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap as she calmly regarded each of them for several moments. "To begin, understand that none of you are in trouble. Instead, this is me presenting you all with an opportunity for...let's call it something of a work-study program. I believe that, between your individual skills and your friendships with each other, you are well-suited to this task. I can't make you do this particular assignment, but you all do have hours and credits and the like to finish, so if it's not this particular assignment, it will be another. And unfortunately, I can't guarantee another opportunity that's as..." She paused and thought over her words for a moment, apparently quite conscious of some of the strong personalities in the room. "I can't guarantee you won't end up being forced to complete an assignment while working with one or more fellow students you do not get along well with. And don't think your companion's skills would let you bypass this requirement, Miss Sanderson; I'd know if he tried. Still, I have faith you all will be interested in this particular project."

Meechum's 1:30 PM, May 16th. This was odd. Very, very odd. She checked her phone and made sure she had the right place. Probably. The restaurant was a good neutral sort of place, having enough options that there should be no problem with any dietary restrictions. It was a safe gamble, and Corinne noticed it. It was like her meeting with her father, but... more awkward. She didn't know what Amir's ex was to her, but the lady was trying to be nice... And she might know some things about this town that she'd like kt know. Or how to deal with the attention her dad got, but then, she wasn't exactly a completely private person really. Wearing her kinda sorta bucket hat, a denim jacket, a blue and black plaid shirt, with a pair of black pants, and teal sneakers. Of course... that wasn't so different than a whole host of teenagers and twenty somethings. What made her stand out was the height. Taller than her father, and Agnus, she was a statuesque stunner, and even in a moderately busy place like Meechum's during lunch, she was more than visible. She assumed Agnus was already here, because she was still navigating and learning the town, but she was looking for her, peering and surveying.

May 17th 2PMish. Girl's dorm, lounge area. The staff had told Hannah who her roommate would be for next year. The daughter of the hero Asad. Well, they didn't tell Hannah who she was related to, but the gossip mill had started, and Corinne's parentage, and everything else was preceding her. To her chagrin. Given her large gap of experience regarding all of this compared to some others giving her a roomie was the best bet. And Hannah, being the kind of person she was, felt like the best choice. Corinne just... nodded along to it. She was waiting in out of the lounges in the girl's dormitory. She was people watching, and slouched in the chair which sort of hid her height, as she had on a faded band t-shirt for Maylene and the Sons of Disaster, with her denim jacket, short denim cutoffs, over a pair of plain black tights, and her short teal sneakers. She wasn't thrilled at this, but... really... she wasn't mad. She was numb. In shock, and she hoped she didn't make Hannah mad because she was out of sorts.

GM May 1st, Monday, 2017, 12.45AM Emerald City, Washington, United States, Fort Brewer Naval Base, Sub-level 2, briefing room "This is the only visual we have on your target, uh...Ms. Masterson" Admiral Henry "Hank" Finley was a fit, imposing man at 6'8", with his close-cut greying hair and constant frown softened little by a short spadehead beard. He also clearly had little experience dealing with superhumans. The darkened room he and the other, conspicuously silent, officers were gathered in had enough Cold War atmosphere to choke somebody from the bright and clear Forties. The lights were dimmed to help accentuate the ten-foot-wide picture humming softly in the air. With a slight cough and a swipe of his fingers, the projected image of a distant, misty lump of grey on a time-stamped horizon sharpened and jumped into focus. Hovering above the conference room table, the picture resolved into an island. An island with towering cliffs for shores, great tangles of hanging greenery and a liberal sprinkling of palm trees. "As you can guess, there's nothing like this on any of our charts. Satellite has nothing, even got Argus down here last weekend to scan. Nada." The Old Man of Fort Brewer folded his arms and looked down into the enigma that had brought Mary Masterson, the Torpedo Lass of World War 2, to far-off Emerald City, Washington. "Sent some scouts out, they got to the spot and swear up and down the thing just vanished. But I noticed something." "The sub crew I dispatched along with the other boats, they say it vanished just a little after the others lost track. Could mean nothing, but," Finley turned to Torpedo Lass, a gleam of cunning in his dark eyes "got me thinking somebody who can go faster than anything we've ever built and do it under the surface might stand a chance of clearing this up." "What we're asking is strictly recon, understand. Just get there, take a look around, come back and give us what you get. We give that to Citizen and he takes care of anything dangerous." the admiral shook his head resolutely, and his tone became one Mary was all too familiar with. "I'm not inclined to risk your safety, miss, no matter how bulletproof they tell me you are. I've got kids older than you." May 2nd, Tuesday, 2017, 8.45PM Liverpool, England, A very nice side-street The hero Dr. Deoxy had needs any human had. Being at the center of artistic life and on the crest of the glittering wave of imagination, for one. So strolling from one dazzling get-together had seemed like a good idea at the time. Just a little shortcut and he'd be back in the circle of greats... Dr. Nathaniel Anderson only knew he was being followed when he felt the sudden shock of lightning, fell spasming to the ground and heard somebody whisper "You. Have been. Thunderstruck!" There was a giddy giggle as the darkness closed comfortably around Nathan's head "Nothing? Aw geez, overjuiced..." A squalid room somewhere The darkness slid away to reveal a room that had once been stark and harrowing. A massive, altar-like table occupied the centre, letting the eye of the Sun in to bathe Nathan in cosmic fire. The rest was gloomy and indistinct, though clearly vast and of the Modernist school. Vines and tree roots reached in through the roof, turning the yellow light a gentle emerald. Other vegetation scrawled across the walls and floor. Somewhere birds chattered and sang. Of more immediate importance was the fact that Dr. Anderson was pinned to the stony bed by some invisible force, preventing movement of any kind. And he wasn't alone. Somewhere close, and getting closer, was the clopping sound of clumsy booted feet making their way towards him...

Later on, May 15th. It was getting on, the end of... a bewildering day, her folks were still working through the paperwork and hammering the details, so they were giving her a bit of space to still explore. Having already met some of the sterling members of the community, she felt that at least she could talk to the others here and it wouldn't be such a colossal disaster. If, yanno, I wasn't staring like a deer stuck in headlights at everything. And it wasn't like she knew how to relate to people. Hi! I am Corinne, you know my father, probably better than I do! And I can do things with stuff. The Zen garden hadn't been as zen, because she had to deal with people in unfamiliar territory. ,Well fortunately she was able to sort herself out, and she had a longboard, and that helped. The rhythm of it. Pump, pump, glide. Then came the movement on the board, making it weave as she shuffled and twirled on the board itself. Arms held up and bent at her elbows for balance.

May 15, 2017. Downtown Freedom. Top floor of the HyperMegaCorp Building. Just After Midnight. It was a midnight arms deal. You’d think something like this would go down at the docks (or maybe deep in the Fens) but not this time. This time it was going down in the corporate offices of HyperMegaCorp, the company you trust to make the widgets that make your famous brand name stuff work as advertised. Also known as a lesser Evil, Inc. Tonight, they had a pair of skilled weaponsmiths in to sign contracts to…well, make weapons for them. The weapons would not be sold to finance children’s charities, obviously. HyperMegaCorp had fingers in every regional conflict in the world, after all. Though they had confused an actual child army as a children’s charity once (by accident, they swore and so did their lawyers), so there was that. Which was why Terrifica had been planning this bust for months. Well, more like waiting for the weaponsmiths and the corporate suits to stop dancing and meet, already. The building’s security was purposefully not on high alert, and so it was easy to sneak in. She had her recording devices all set up. AEGIS on speed dial. She was ready to put an end to this thing. And if the weapon blueprints magicially disappeared in the process, well that wasn’t her fault now was it?

Claremont Academy Campus May 15, 2017 It was a strange feeling, walking aimlessly about the campus. It would be another hour and change before the next meeting Corinne Conrad had with yet another member of the Claremont Academy faculty and she'd been told to take the time to familiarize herself with the facilities. In the middle of the day, however everyone she came across was hurrying to their next class or making good on lunch period plans with their friends, an active bustle which made the Los Angeles transplant feel a bit like an intruder. Even at a leisurely pace her long strides quickly took her away from the main building and out into the pleasant spring weather until she came across the well-tended zen garden. In most places in Freedom City the carefully raked sands might have seemed a bit ostentatious but something about the shade of the surrounding trees and the way it nestled into a slight hill in the grounds made the spot of tranquility feel perfectly at home. "Sorry, are you Corinne?" a voice called from behind her with a distinct British accent and a faint lilt. Two girls approached from the way she'd just come, the speaker giving her a small wave and a smile. A lavender hijab framed a warm expression and fashionably complimented her light jacket and dark skirt. Despite the uneven ground leading up to the garden her steps had the sort of grace Corinne associated with dancers. A step behind her was fit girl with a more neutral expression beneath round sunglasses and dark hair pulled back. She wore a sleeveless black top which clearly revealed powerfully athletic muscles, flexing slightly as she hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of ripped jeans. At a guess the new transfer would have said the pair were a little older than her, close to wrapping up their junior year. "I'm Faiza," the first girl continued, smile widening as she met Corinne's eyes, "and this is Sofia." Her companion raised one hand in a muted greeting.

May 15, 2017 Austin, TX Austin's Lone Star Bank is located near the edge of the city proper, about halfway down 290 towards Dripping Springs. The distance means that it usually caters to patrons who live in western suburbs and bedroom communities and don't want to drive all the way into Austin to do their banking business. Of course, that also means it's prone to robberies. The bank has security and security cameras - but sometimes all that does is pick up what's happening. "All right, yew varmints, we warned you!" The lead outlaw, like her confederates, looked like a character from a movie - her black bandanna, cowboy gear and hat, and twirling six-shooters, belonged to the crime of an entirely different era - as did the half-a-dozen horses she and her gang had tied up outside before bursting into the bank with mayhem in mind. The guards were disarmed now and scattered among the bound and gagged patrons, her confederates were either guarding the door with their pistols or applying the dynamite to the door, everything was going well. Even the one guy in the middle of the floor, blood pouring from the six shots blasted in his shirt, was all part of the plan. Stupid bank manager had tried to play hero. Gotta make sure the people know who's really in charge. "C'mon, boys, hurry it up!" she called.

GM May 1st Chicago, the Seasonal Enter: Zyte Guyst (aka Alvin Gaye) Zyte Guyst was a short guy, with a mop of unruly dyed red hair and and an artistic beard. He just about pulled off being cool and trendy without turning himself into a pastiche. Zyte was a bit of an artist, a multi-media film maker who had seeped into the internet and film festivals. He liked making in-ya-face, provocative art house films and investigative journalism. Truth was often bent, but as Zyte always said "what is truth, anyhowways?" With a portable camera by slung over his shoulder, and his favourite entourage of Zane! the cool stuntguy / bodyguard and Michelle Hill, ex-actress, now sensible aide, he proudly pressed the knocker. "Unanounced is best, huh, Hilly?" he asked his aide. "Uh-huh, sure, Zyte, always the best..." she sighed, and examined her nails. They were well done, and whilst they could be admired, didn't need examining. She just didn't want to be there right now. Her job was to curb Zyte's excesses. She didn't feel like she was doing a good job...

May 10, 2017 Wolverton Bedlam City Black Rose Detective Agency 9AM A god kicked in the door not long after opening. Lady Horus flew into the Black Rose Detective Agency with speed fast enough to send loose papers flying everywhere, then kicked the door shut behind her with equal alacrity. "Lo!" she called in that oddly resonant voice that was familiar both from the television and to the local residents of the Wolverton/Hardwick Park area - "where is thy doctor? This girl needs care!" In her arms, or rather, wrapped in her white and gold cape was a battered-looking young woman in the torn remnants of a super-costume - the darkly complected Hispanic girl looked like she'd taken a heavy beating from somebody.

GM May 4th, Thursday, 2017, 2.06AM Stronghold Security corporate offices, 476 Charles St. An empty hallway. From inside, the Stronghold Security building had almost nothing to remind one they were, in fact, inside the Stronghold Security building. A prominent skyscraper gracing the skyline of a major Atlantic metropolis in whose walls worked hundreds of people making sure that people from all(but preferably the better-heeled) walks of life could sleep safe and sound in the knowledge that Stronghold's technology would protect them. For Josh Kim, university freshman and part-time security guard on the tenth floor, it might as well have been any office building. So it was quite to his surprise when something was happening on his shift. Specifically, somebody was shooting at him. Several bodeys, all with very large guns. And he with none. But he did have a radio! One he was busy screaming into as loud as he could while wood splintered and porcelain shattered around him "OH GOD PLEASE ANYBODY HEEEEELLLP!"

May 8, 2017. Tortuga, Haiti. The Bonny Read Tavern. Just After Sunrise. AEGIS agent Hannah Snell sighed as she looked at the tattered remnants of the Bonny Read Tavern. She didn’t know how she got herself into these things. Her mum back in Devonshire would say it was her desperate need for adventure. She sorted through the sleeping and/or battered unconscious figures scattered throughout the tavern with her eyes, hands, and (occasionally) fists, until she settled on one. “Oi.” She prodded the sleeping figure with her boot. “Oi. Flint.” What happened here last night would live in infamy…until next weekend, at the least. And it was at least half this woman’s fault. With the woman not waking from her rum induced slumber so easily, Hannah Snell decided to just go for it, and kicked the pirate captain in the side. Hard. “Oi. Get up, Flint. Need your ‘elp. Some pillock thought it’d be brilliant to resurrect a few old pirates for a lark. Needless to say, the prat’s dead and they’re on the loose.” Snell kicked the pirate again. “So get up, you lazy sod. You’ve got work to do.”

Disclaimer: This thread contains violence, potentially suggestive themes, and language. Discretion is advised. 2:30 AM. May 1st, 2017 Red Rat's crappy apartment It was small. And sort of home. Big enough for her, and not for the impromptu house guests, and she wasn't expecting them at all. At the front of the door, came the strains of "Ostatnia Niedziela" with a voice muffled a bit, trying to sing along to Mieczysław Fogg. There was another noise, low guttural, from deep within something large going in some sort of counterpoint to the failed sing-along by the other. Fortunately her neighbors were not inclined to investigate, and closest apartment to hers was currently vacant. Leaving just the 'music' drifting into the air, under a flickering florescent hall light, syncopated to the watlz's 3/4.

GM 11:00 PM, Friday May 5th The message had mostly gone to spam in ArchAngel's troubalert app. It was useful to have to find emergencies nearby and usually didn't cause much trouble. However a few of the spammed messages had made it through. Yo n00b, We been watching. You probably think you're pretty great huh? Well guess what? You wrong lol. Anyways, we're gonna pull off a crime so 1337 you won't be able to stop us. You mad bro? So n00b you wanna try and stop us? Party on Aspen Drive, gonna be someone's last birthday. Try to stop our mad skillz. We dare you. Gonna pwn you, TR011 There was only one party on Aspen street that night. A birthday party. Miss Michelle Sands was turning seventeen and pulling out all the stops. Well so it said on the internet link that had been attached to the message. No parents in one of those huge mansions in the neighborhoods near Claremont. No invitation needed, and if you were over 21 you had better be bringing booze.

GM A concealed sidewalk outside Claremont Academy, Bayview, Freedom City, USA, the Earth May 1st, 2017, 2.45PM "Well, that's a bust" Sharon "Tyger" Sheffield, teen genius, kicked the smoking apparatus moodily, still smarting from its failure. Turning to the other Claremont students who had come out for a good time in another dimension without Mrs. Tragoria breathing down their necks about local customs and protocol, Sharon shrugged "Sorry, guys! Guess I'll have to try again next week." With a wave of her hand and a burst of exotic particles from the gizmos hidden under her gloves, the shambles of what had been a miniature replica of the Atom Family's Gateway winked out of existence. "What? Come on!" "What a waste a'time..." "Xerynarrg!" The other students drifted away, in pairs and singly, heading out into Bayview, taking to the sky and otherwise leaving now that the chance had come and gone. Blowing a noisy sigh, Sharon glanced at the last remaining student. "Hey, Annie," she smiled glumy, wiping a streak of oil from her face "still here? I've got some stuff I wanna do before the day's over, could use some company."