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February 7, 2017 12:04 am A half dozen men in suits and ties waited for their contact. The chief had told them not to wait too long, the streets of Freedom City were not a place to be caught loitering with suspicious objects. Just as the crew was about to leave a crack appeared in the air, a few reached for guns as a young lady in a black leather jacket stepped out. “Is this it?” she asked, pointing at a small case one man was holding. The man in charge nodded, and held out the small instrument case. “You know I don’t like being double crossed.” “Eh, the boss man no like for double cross neither Sistah, it is what he say it is. You just keep that Punk out the boss man’s hair and we no get problems.” “Fine then.” The woman said taking the instrument case, she stepped back in the portal and vanished. February 17, 2017 3:00 pm Millennium Mall in Freedom City was alive and busy. Hundreds of people shopped and ate as they went about their daily lives. It was a fairly normal Friday. Adults spent their money and kids spent their parents’ money. It was all in all a normal day. One of the disadvantages of having so many heroes of all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors was that it was fairly easy for people to assume someone was a hero. The young girl who had on a grass skirt and a bright floral top could very easily be mistaken for some unknown hero. She walked into the center of the mall and stood on one of the many benches. She quickly examined the koa wood ukulele and strummed a chord. The deep sound turned heads, and she smiled. “ALOHA!” The girl shouted as she began to play an island tune. The ukulele seemed to shimmer as she effortlessly drew in a crowd. “I’m Laka, goddess of the hula. Goddess of pleasure. The newest goddess of Freedom City, and your goddess commands you to dance.” The crowd immediately complied, waving their arms in a painfully stereotypical "hula" many seemed to be enjoying themselves until men in Tiki masks and floral shirts began to empty their pockets and purses.

GM Saturday, February 18th, 2017 Backstage, The Schuster Auditorium, Hanover 9:06 PM Today was the night of One Last Shot. As UWL’s traditional February PPV, it was the place where two men walked in, and one walked out. It was where the big storylines of the winter season ended, and the first seeds for Spring and Summer were sown. It was full of brutal matches, and it was full of heated confrontations. And, it soon would be the place of the debut that would influence the upcoming seasons. Backstage, things were rather quiet. The second most important match of the night had just ended, and now most people had gone to grab something from catering. As Glacier, now once more holding UWL’s Freedom Championship, returned to backstage, he immediately went to the group standing next to the technicians. Hedley “The Orangutan” DeShaek. Kwame “Hammer” Harris. Jesse “The Spur” Cassidy. Sharon “Vixen” Nelson. Zayn Lee. Save DeShaek, they all wore matching outfits. The moment they had been training for ever since joining the UWL was only one match away. Soon, they would be ready. He was just going through the program once more, to make sure everything was right. While the three would sneak in with the technicians setting up the final match and hide in the crowd (they had all gotten extra large hoodies), Kwame would stay backstage. And once the main event was over, it was time. He would stand there, make his entrance, and reveal himself, and his group-members, to the world. “Okay, that’s all, we’ve trained this. Now, get ready to go out there with the techies. And, guys, good luck. Let’s have a debut for the history books. “ Glacier had stayed in the background, but now walked up to them, smiling. “Let’s show them what you’re made of.”

January 26, 2017 Kat noticed it that morning. She pushed herself awkwardly up, stretched, yawned, casually waved off her roommate as she tried to fuss and meandered in drowsy laziness to the washroom in a nightshirt, brushed her teeth, rinsed out her mouth, looked in the mirror and . . . Her brush fell out of her hand and into the sink. Her left eye was red. But that didn't quite capture the reality of it. Kat's eyes had been red for years, since her power had almost overwhelmed her in the street. Sometimes, people had joked to her about it glowing, and maybe, if she was totally honest, they had glowed a little. But her eye was red, one solid color, and . . . As her heart beat faster, the light got brighter. She slammed hte door and locked it firmly behind her, ignoring the muffled protest of her roommate. She can't see this. Calm down. She grabbed hold of the edge of the sink, breathed hard and closed her eyes. Calm down. You're excited. That's it. She counted her breaths, kept her thoughts in an easy circle. She opened her eyes again . . . and her eye was still red. And . . . What was that under her shirt? She pulled it up and saw red-dark lines slowly advancing slowly but determinedly down her body. "####."

GM Elysian Forest, York Hill, Emerald Enclave Retreat Cabin , Emerald City, Oregon "...I am so glad to see so many unfamiliar faces here today!" Max Mars grinned out at the crowd from the stage, artistically set into a rock slab cloven by a trickling stream. The meeting room was walled in glass and metal, the ceiling admitting light falling golden and green through the boughs of pines swaying high above. The hundreds of guests were scattered at low Japanese-style tables laden with delicacies from dozens of countries. They'd been through four other speakers, starting in the morning and interspersed with music and other entertainments. Mars was the fundraiser's host and had gone to extravagant lengths to impress on the visitors what a great idea it would be to help fund the preservation of the Pacific Coast rainforests. Or, more precisely, to help fund technology that would help protect them. "We don't all live here, but all of us need this and other natural resources to stay in business. We need these just to live, folks, without paying Mother Nature a tax Uncle Sam can only dream of. In particular I'd like to thank-" His bright green eyes flashed across the holoprompter embedded in his contact lenses, an inhman mind whirring over the unusual names literally faster than thought. "-Amir ibn Jafar ibn Abd al-Aziz al-Misri, of al-Misri Holdings and Antoinette Baudin of Danger International! Come on up, you two!" In the deep woods, the polite applause and brief swell of congratulatory music stood out even more than would in the city below. And the ringing seemed to last even longer than usual as the two were collected by ushers and brought on stage. Max Mars was a full foot shorter than Amir and even Tona towered over his leonine-haired head, which do nothing to shake the irrepressible glee in his cat-green eyes. Extending a vigorous handshake to both of them and an ostentatious air-kiss next to Tona's ear (his beard scratching her cheek), Mars nodded to the crowd "Why don't you say a few words, let us all know a little about the good people we'll be working with?" His grin and expectant looks from the other guests brooked no refusal.

GM Sunday , February 12th , 2017 Pennsylvania Avenue, Southside, Freedom City 2:24 PM Freedom City was a strange place indeed. Some things were easy to get used to. Sure, somebody flying through the air only feet above your head was strange the first few times, but with how often it happened, most people learned to ignore it. A sudden explosion, happening somewhere off in the distance? Not that big of a deal, perhaps people walking that way turned around, but no real hysteria amongst the crowd. A car driving down a street, actually gaining some airtime thanks to there being a minor hill, was a bit more strange, even for Freedom Natives. Somebody flying after in in the air only added to that. It being two people, who also happened to be fighting each other, even more so. Tyson Masters hadn’t been in Freedom for long. The city truly was something. And while he didn’t have much experience with some of the things it offered, a car chase sounded like something he could help with. Even if one of the chasing parties was a single person, flying through the air. All covered in blue, with half-translucent blue wings sprouting from their back. They were currently chasing after the vehicle, all the while dodging pillars of smoke appearing out of mid-air. And following them, but quickly losing distance, was a cloud of smoke. A cloud of smoke, currently yelling. Depending on his knowledge, Tyson may have been able to identify this cloud as Bonfire, one of the many heroes local to Freedom City.

GM February 6th, Monday, 11.57AM, 2017 Kokinos' Greek Restaurant, West End, Freedom City The bell on the door chimed pleasantly as Moira walked in, the music cutting through the cacophany of conversation bubbling throughout the bright and crowded room, alerting the burly, bald and mustached Michel Kokinos behind the tall counter. Pausing briefly to smile in welcome, Michel marched out onto the floor to a corner table where two men in suits were chatting. One was bursting with confidence and intelligence, a handsome and bearded devil with mocking green eyes. The other had leonine hair, they were lean with hungry grey eyes that darted longingly between the enormous meal spread before him and those at the other occupied tables. Settling the plates of steaming fish and piled greens before what looked like a military couple off-duty, Michel stomped up to Moira, nodding in recognition as he said briskly "G'noon, Moira. What'll it be today, enh? Old Sean doing well?"

Silberman's Books, at the corner of Frederick and Pratt. Saturday, February 4th, 2017. 12:05 pm. It was a rather cold and gray afternoon in February, the kind of day when really all you wanted to do was stay in bed, read a book, maybe watch something on Netflix; Gretchen in particular had argued in favor of this last point earlier that morning. But her girlfriend Lynn made the point that if they wanted a long and happy life, they wouldn't be working in retail; this led to a narrowing of the eyes and an icy telepathic rebuke. -Curse your alien faerie logic.- But now it was far too late; they'd been open for two hours, and it would be far too difficult to kill all the customers and hide the bodies. The surly barista was well and truly screwed, so she would just have to glare balefully at the Happy Morning People as they drank their coffee and ate their baked treats. You will all pay for this. For her part, Lynn was in the office, cheerfully going over her emails, seemingly oblivious to her love's virulent misanthropy this fine morning.

February 14, 2017 http://bedlam-maniac.tumblr.com/post/157056952707/hardwick-park-crazyshit (CN: Violence, Bright Lights, Disturbing Imagery Video Description: A blonde woman in Egyptian-style garb is standing in the middle of a run-down looking playground. A badly-beaten man is laying on the ground at her feet - and behind him, a small group of frightened gang-bangers are making a pile of guns, knives, and various drugs they seem to have been carrying on their persons. We can't see her face, but her voice crackles with supernatural power as she declares, "Lo, villains! Never again will you market thy poisoned goods in Hardwick Park!" She reaches behind her back and pulls from nothing a glowing Egyptian ankh - which she then plunges into the pile of guns and drugs at her feet. In a flare of light, the contraband vanishes. "This block is guarded by Lady Horus herself! Now begone, and find you honest work! Show pride in thy home!" She turns and addresses the camera directly, her voice calming a little, as the men run. "Didst you get all that, girl? Good. Send it to every teenager in this city!" )

@Heritage It hadn't taken much convincing. All Samuel Steiner had to say to get their attention was "Val Verde," and all he had to say to get their agreement was "Vacation." Three words were all it took to get Lynn Epstein and Gretchen McDaniels to board a plane to the secretive little island a few hour's flight off their nation's southwestern coast. That, and a few days of planning. A employer can't just disappear along with two of her employees in tow and expect everything to keep running like Swiss clockwork in her absence. Schedules needed rewriting, tasks needed assigning, and subtle, only half-joking threats of terrible retaliation for failure needed making before they could leave. All things considered, it was a painless procedure. It could have been even more-so, with the power available to the three. A few spells and they could have stepped from their homes to the island in an instant, without the need for planes, trains, or automobiles. But part of the joy of vacation is the trip, and so they took a passenger jet to the American southwest, arranged a taxi to a small, private airfield, and boarded another plane -- small, but richly furnished -- to the island. The process had been described in great detail by Steiner's letter, now slightly crumpled but none the worse for wear. Written by their would-be host, a man named Gallo, the letter had given the two women only the smallest taste of his personality, the tiniest glimpse of what he'd be like. Sam had tried to fill them in on the rest but some men, like Gallo, defied simple explanation. "He just is," the magician explained. "He's larger than life. Big eater, big drinker, big talker. He and I go way back; I think you'll like him. He was a good friend to me... kind of like how you guys are, now. He took me in when I needed taking in and helped get me back on my feet when I was laying low." Eventually, the flight neared its end, and it wasn't long after that when the three could look out the windows and see it: Val Verde, set like a gleaming emerald on a sea of blue velvet. "My God," said Sam. "It's just as beautiful now as it ever was. I'd almost forgotten." @Blarghy James Warne dusted his hands and reached one of them into his jacket, intent on removing the battered carton of cigarettes nestled into a pocket therein. He was surrounded by the prone bodies of groaning men, their firearms thrown haphazardly around the room by a telekinetic storm of disarmament, with their persons having followed shortly thereafter. He flicked the lighter with a practiced thumb, lit the smoke, and inhaled. Other men might have allowed themselves a smile, if only a bitter one, at the idea of a job well done. Not Adept, not here. Duty called, he answered, and that was all. The cigarette, the smoke in his mouth, the fire in his lungs; that was his smile, his concession to the world. His phone buzzed, once, an indication of incoming text. He reached for it, touched the screen, and brought up the client. TSA pegged your old friend [STEINER, SAMUEL] leaving the country w/ 2 women, it said. [EPSTEIN, LYNN] & [McDANIELS, GRETCHEN]. They're headed for Val Verde. Pack for sunny weather and report for briefing. Sorry. It was signed, at the bottom, by 'B,' which meant it couldn't be ignored. Warne grunted, replaced his phone, and strode towards the exit. He passed police and paramedics on the way, who hustled towards the battered men behind him. When he was out of sight, he took to the skies like a bird of prey and flew back to the city. It was going to be a long day.

Water between Townsville and Magnetic Island. Queensland, Australia 2017 Thursday, February 2nd, 2017 9:00 AM It was a brisk and cool morning, and four Claremont Alumni found themselves leaving Magnetic Island back towards Townsville, Australia. Specifically to the Australian institute of marine science. Having spent the weekend near the vicinity of the Cockle Bay Reef, for Giang Trang's studies. Aside from surfers, fishers, and those preparing for tours the morning was relatively calm. All in all, it was a good start to the day. In the distance, Kimo Keli'i was steadying himself on his surfboard. Freedom College wasn't swimming in money, it took an entire semester of fund raising just for the surf club to save up for this three day trip to Australia. As such no one was looking to waste the opportunity as a swell began to form. Unfortunately, one of the less experienced members of the club fell off his board in between waves and began frantically splashing around worriedly.

GM Norris Atoll Lonely Point, Freedom City New Jersey Wednesday, February 1st, 2017 5:17 PM Norris Atoll was a pseudo atoll formed by the three islands South of the Lonely point Naval Base. Far from an island resort like Bermuda, the islands were just as desolate as the mainland. Which made the territory an easy concession when the United States agreed to a formal concession of land for an Atlantean Embassy on the Atlantic. King Theseus reached out to the architect behind the construction of the Freedom Aquarium who oversaw the construction of the structure. Essentially it was designed a self-contained deep sea resort, using the Aquarium's iceberg like design in which a majority of the property was actually beneath the surface. Visitors would be allowed to stay for as long as they so choose as long as a security concern does not arise. Allowing for the education of Atlantean culture in a way far removed from the offensive Atlantis Casino. The Ocean Factory at the bottom was closed off from surface world access. Only subcontractors and official delegates would be allowed access with a residence designed for use for any Atlanteans that would choose to use the facility. The fact that Atlantean hostilities with the surface (and the location being so near a surface world military installation) made it unlikely that anyone other than the Atlantean Ambassador would choose to actually use it. News outlets approached the entrance on a cargo ship. The grand unveiling was to be broadcast throughout the country. Including from within a Waterfront Russian bar where two heroines were currently enjoying a meal. Or the much quieter apartment belonging to Jessie White and Aquaria Innsmouth. William Cline, or Thoughtspeed as he was currently dressed, had a much closer look of the festivities. Having been personally invited by Princess Thaelia, as the only one of her friends not currently out of the city. With the possible exception of Elias, who she could never keep track of. Thoughtspeed found himself sitting in a room, with a view of the approaching vessel, accompanied by the Atlantean royal family minus King Theseus himself. An armed escort posted throughout, perhaps too armed for a guided tour.

GM Monday, January 30th, 2017 The Boardwalk, South Freedom, Freedom City 11:05 AM Leeroy Street was one of the less nice places in The Boardwalk. It was still nicer than many places further down south, but to people that knew the place, it stood out. Refuse Collectors generally had a pretty good idea of what happened in various places, how businesses were doing, where parties happened, and so on. Sometimes, it was still surprising just what the latest trash could tell about a place. Today, Winter Snow, alias Synth, was once more assigned to the area including this street. At least it never got boring. So, after a while, the truck had arrived at the small street, lined with the less fancy establishments that somehow existed everywhere. A run down bar, an old movie store, and a few others, in similar condition. This was the third week in a row that she’d been assigned to this area after the weekend. Perhaps it was starting to be a routine of some sort? Either way, everything went as usual, until she got to Scrapper’s, a bar of some sorts. They always had a fair bit of trash, and for the last two weeks, something had stood out. The first week, there was a slight hint of blood in the trash’s smell. Nothing too strange, bars had accidents (and fights) too, so she had just noted it down as something that happened occasionally. Last week, the smell also was there, slightly stronger even. But this week? This week was different. It was still there. But it wasn’t a hint. It was more. The smell of blood was, at least to her, noticeable. Something was in these bags.

GM CoVic Station The robot was an sphere of metal a few feet across, decorated with beautiful engraved patterns. It was a work of art. Literally. It was owned, and sculpted by the famous and eccentric Lor artist known as Lexa. She was a musician and performance artist, one of the best in the known galaxy, but obscure and erratic. Little or nothing had been heard from her the past few years, but now the galaxy was abuzz with the rumours that she was unveiling a new experimental opera called "The Night Flower" The Sphere ceremoniously and silently floated to Barrier and Paradigm. One could imagine it bowing, if a perfect sphere could do such a movement. Its voice was perfectly soft, low and rumbling, with a lovely inflection. "I am Sphere. Thank you for hospitality, dear friends. I have come at the behest of Lexa to invite you to the once only showing of The Night Flower, on the planet Nocturne. I hope you can represent the Praetorians, their noble history, their epic saga, and their everlasting philosophy"

Syke's Gym. 3:00 PM, Jan. 23rd. It was an empty boxing gym, well more or less. Except for two people, Amir al-Misri, and Anastasia van Cleef. In other aspects, though it was clean, well lit and maintained. The mats pristine. It as a good neutral ground to learn from the daughter of someone he sort of kind of knew in business. "You're a colossal ass," came the snark statement from Ms. van Cleef, assistant, indispensable 'Dragon of the Summit.' She tapped away furiously on her phone, not deigning to lift her head and look at Amir making a colossal... well what she really wanted to say she wasn't going to. Not that she was going to be prudent and keep her mouth shut, but she really didn't want to pick that fight. Though, insulting him from the sidelines was fitting in with the ice cold blonde, in her smart grey suit. For his part Amir stood off to the side, well in the ring ring, leaning on the ropes. He was more or less dressed for learning how to fight better. Though it was more dressed in a sort of, he didn't know what else to wear type get up of t-shirt and boxing shorts, with his normal burgundy and gold coloring. "Jealous? I understand, completely." Smirking back at her, "As my ass is gosh-darned adorable, I will have you know." "Whatever it takes for you to feel better about yourself, Amir," was the tart reply, and staccato annoyed rat-tat-tat of her fingers on the screen..

Saturday, February 5th Riverside Savings & Loan, Freedom City It was a sleepy day in Freedom City, the shining face of the Riverside Savings & Loan reflecting the sun off the surface of the river. Officer Morel pulled into the bank parking lot, noting that there wasn't much activity in the bank this Saturday morning. Usually plenty of folks were lined up early in the day to take care of their banking on the weekend. While Morel saw a few cars in the lot -- including a pair of cherry roadsters that looked to be from the 20s or 30s -- he didn't see anyone moving around inside the lobby. That prickled his senses and probably saved his life. The officer turned to reach for his car's radio, saw a glint of metal, and dove behind the engine block. Gunfire roared across the parking lot, rounds glancing off the pavement and exploding against metal. A figure stepped up to the broken bank window and Morel paused the gape at it. The man was dressed in an impeccable pin-stripe suit, wide-brimmed hat, and was balancing an honest-to-God Tommy gun on his hip. What shocked the police officer the most, though, was the face of steel and iron that looked out from under the hat. Another burst of automatic gunfire made Morel hug the ground. "That's right, copper," the metal-faced robber shouted. "Keep yer head down and keep the other flatfoots out of, and no one in here has to get whacked!"

Kestevan 79 Coalition Victory Station Legion Day GM Post Tra’Nor should have been celebrating with all the other Lor on the station, today was when they celebrated all the achievements of the Lor military and even though the station wasn’t part of the Republic many of the establishments allowed those like her to eat and drink for free. On New Lor-Van the finest ships of the fleet would fill the skies and the finest legion would march to be cheered by the gathered Lor. But Tra’Nor didn’t feel that they really had anything to celebrate, since the fall of Lor-Var during the Communion War the Republic hadn’t been as strong as it once was, the different fleet off fighting to stabilize the Republic from threats outside. Maybe it was the old tales her clone mother use to tell but she felt that the Republic need larger than life heroes and whilst the Republic produced many of her own, like the Grand Nauarchus Frankan, but she felt that the almost mythic Praetorians fitted the bill rather well. So this Legion Day she had volunteered to sit on monitor duty in the CoVic’s Praetorian base bathed in the blue light of the many displays seeing the known galaxy monitored, though nothing apparently was happening today. Apparently today was going to be quiet today, the rest of the universe was taking the day off as well. With the Praetorian's she should have know better.

January 20, 2017 Port Regal "It's beautiful," said Mark, peering at the image Nina had found. "I love the lacework on the veil - and you've always looked good in white." Perhaps white wasn't the traditional color under the circumstances - but when he'd mentioned that the other day Nina had not been terribly happy with him. "I'll take you over as soon as we're done talking to everyone." Sitting next to his fiancee on their living room couch, he tried to keep his stomach from lurching with excitement as he remembered the purpose of the planned conversation. He'd kept Nina's secret because he loved her, but it had made January one of the hardest months of his life. "It's fine enough," agreed Nina, tabbing over to the page for her personal notebook.. Looking at the dresses had been Mark's idea - having found a satisfactory one, she'd already moved to the next step. "After I wear it, I can donate it to the Women's Center - Malikah's getting married this summer and she can alter it as she sees fit." The dress would do for their civic service in Freedom City in a month. For the wedding to come in Socotra's Great Mosque, when she would be her father's...overthrower, she would need something much more elaborate than this. Mark gave no sign that he followed Nina's thoughts, instead kissing her on the cheek and rising to his feet. "Okay, it's 10:30...I should start the frittata so it'll be ready when they get here." Only an hour and a half left! Mark and Nina lived in a gated seaside development - just the place for two Freedom City residents who had wanted a house and Mark headed into the kitchen. "Everything will be okay," he said aloud, stepping around the bookcase and firing up the oven. "We'll have them over, we'll feed them, we'll tell them we're getting married in February because we're going to have a baby. It'll be a surprise - but everything will be great."

GM "I do mean to apologize, again," Doctor Browning was insisting - for about the fourth time, by Indira's reckoning - as he stood there wringing his hands. "I really simply do not know how the alarm went off like that, much less falsely. It's the budget cuts, you see; we don't really have many maintenance staff left...." The building had certainly seen better days. At some point in the past, the Hanover site had been some manner of large research and development facility, with the footprint of a warehouse and the multi-story brick design of an office building. As recently as a few years ago it might have been a bustling center of the sort of science that came accompanied by mad laughter and lightning bolts, but from what the ghost and the alien had seen on their way up it now housed sheet-covered machines and abandoned labs, the outside keeping up appearances while the inside was slowly claimed by dust and entropy. Not that foreknowledge of the metaphorical rot in a financially collapsing research institute would have kept them out, of course. Kimber Storm and Indira Singh had been in the area on other business, but they weren't likely to ignore a piercing shriek of an alarm, nor an old man rushing down the sidewalk shouting about assailants and his "precious findings". Which, unfortunately, led them to their current predicament. "Problems of the past, surely!" chimed in Doctor Whale, before anyone else could - a recurring problem. He was thinner than his portly companion, and clean-shaven to his partner's mustache, with only slightly more optimistic hand-wringing as he circled their prized possession. Clear on the top floor of the building, they'd found the object of their concern sitting exactly where it had been left yesterday: a curious sphere, pulled apart into two halves, wires and devices trailing out of it and into the monitors and unnameable science paraphernalia. "Why, we'll be back on the map with this, in no time. You'll see. No false alarms will stop us, no sir, no how, and then we can get this place right humming again, with all-new alarms and better security and new labs...." The only person not wringing his hands sighed - a larger, better-dressed businessman with close-shaved hair, briefly referenced to by the others as a 'Mr. Bole'. "Please pardon them," he said in a light accent, offering Ghost Girl and Wraith a sympathetic look at the severe lack of polite disengagement they'd been offered so far. "I don't want to waste any more of your time. They're brilliant, but...excitable. It's the sphere, you see - some military and government groups are starting to offer 'safe' alien or extra-dimensional technology out to some of us for research, if they can't make anything of it, and...well. I guarantee that what happens here will finally pull this company back out of the red, but you don't need to be here for that. If you don't mind, I'll show you out myself, before Doctor Hitch bursts in and completes the trio, and you never esca--" The door to the lab burst open, a severely winded man in a lab coat gasping for air after apparently sprinting his way up the building - a scene the heroines had seen three times, now, in ever-diminishing levels of impressiveness. "I got the - t-the alert!" he shouted, too much volume echoing around too much space. "Is...is it okay? Did anyone break in and t-take it?"

January 10, 2017 Bedlam City Hall Downtown It was one of those too-bright January days when the sun is shining down from a clear blue sky that makes it look downright inviting outside, - until you step out into the teeth of an Upper Midwest winter. Snow was piled everywhere, thick and dirty, as usual in Bedlam at this time of year. The meteor hit with a flash of light and roar of noise, striking the decaying pavement directly in front of Bedlam's equally-mouldering City Hall. The few squatters living in the building, and the odd passerby on their way to the County Courthouse down the block, recovered from the impact and blinding light with difficulty, rubbing their eyes and blinking as the glow at the center of the crater faded. Inside was a man - no, not a man at all! Standing inside the crater was a hulking figure in bizarrely-colored robes like something from a lurid Egyptian-set melodrama - but the thing inside was no actor. Towering some nine feet in height, its scaly reptilian skin, narrow head, and long, wicked-looking fangs suggested not a man at all but some sort of horrible;..Serpent-Man! Hefting high a glowing staff that crackled with unspeakable eldritch power, the snake-man hissed "At lassst! I have essscaped the bonds of Ra'ssss infernal prissson!" The snake-man gestured with his staff and serpents began to wriggle their way impossibly out of the cracked winter pavement at his feet. "Behold, brief mortalsss! The Scion of Set hasss returned to rule the landsss of men!" Then a laugh sounded, not far above his head - and seemingly from out of the sun itself, emerged a new figure - her face hidden by a hawk-faced mask, her head covered in a Pharonic crown, her body wrapped in gold and linen like an Egyptian queen out of legend, she clutched in her hand the glowing ankh of Horus! (To her recollection, the Sunhawk had never actually visited "the mistake by the lake") She laughed again, her thick golden ringlets shaking with mirth. Of the snake man and his serpent minions, some of whom were growing to humanoid size and shape, she showed no fear at all. "Fool! Set is as barren as the desert sands! Thou are but a craven ill-breeding lewdster - a castoff of Apep who apes the Serpent as a lapdog apes Anubis!" Ugh. Handle this one thyself, 'Horus', I will return when yon idol of idiot-worshippers begone. Okay, fine! i was trying to do you a favor! The Scion of Set's eyes boggled at first - but then narrowed with serpentine cunning, and no little godly rage. "You...how dare you! Your mockery will be your death warrant! False Sunhawk, come low and be tested!" The Scion fired a beam of green energy from his staff at Horus, only to find her far fleeter than he expected. "Thy tongue outvenoms the Nile - but thy aim is that of a child! Come and face the Sunhawk in battle, then!" And then Horus flew down and struck the Scion across the body with her glowing ankh - and the battle was on!

January 13, 2017 3:45 PM Even in a city that catered to as many esoteric subcultures as Freedom there were only so many places a teenager might go to improve their skills with medieval weaponry. With the faculty of Claremont Academy in something of a restructuring period - and portions of the student body's faith in the combat training there having suffered somewhat - Cathy Clouston had suggested the next best thing to her girlfriend: a privately run dojo in the city's West End that had been introduced to her by her roommate. Said roommate had continued to receiving mentoring of her own there, albeit in the form of classes not openly available to the public at large. There were certain skills painfully absent from a young lady's usual education these days: picking locks while hanging upside down, disarming an attacker while wearing heels, disarming an attacker with a pair of heels...

GM Sunday, September 8th, 2017 Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey 2:24 PM School was about to start again. Winter break-slash-holiday break was about to be over. Most students had left the academy during the holidays, gone home to their families scattered all across the globe to celebrate. Lilly King was no different. She had left and headed back to Oregon to celebrate the holidays with her family, keeping up with her new friends through the wonders of social media and instant communications. She’d returned to Claremont late Saturday, to give her a day of time to settle back into the school life. So far, so good. Most people had arrived a bit earlier, or would only arrive sometime between Sunday and Monday. She’d gotten up at a (not very) reasonable time on Sunday, her sleep schedule still in holiday mode. And from there, she went on about her day as usual. Everything was as it normally was, when her phone notified her she’d gotten a message by Jann. Short, as usual. But, normally he got to the point immediately, which was a bit strange. Welcome back. Time to meet? Have things to discuss.

GM Sunday, September 8th , 2017 The Ocean Floor, somewhere between North America and Europe 2 PM-ish? Joseph Walker had taken a few days off. Having worked throughout the Christmas season, he now had a few spare days he could take off. Not really having a lot of responsibilities outside of work had its benefits. Like, for example, taking a vacation. Usually, that included using a car or plane, maybe a bike. Especially if one wanted to leave the Isle. But, not it Joseph’s case. For him, taking a trip just about anywhere was a matter of walking. He’d left work on Friday and began to pack. By Saturday afternoon he’d fit everything he really needed into a small bag, one he could carry with him. And later on, he set off. Travelling through Wales was not too spectacular. He’d gotten on the evening train, and arrived early in the morning the day after. (Blame public transport for having to take a longer route). After a nice breakfast, he set off. Down the ocean floor, towards the west and slightly southwards. And from there on, he kept walking, running and swimming, for a few more hours. It would take quite some time to traverse the entire Atlantic, but it would make for an interesting trip already.

Silberman's Books, at the corner of Pratt and Frederick. Saturday, January 7th, 2017 10:30 am. With the panic and mayhem of another holiday season behind them, the crew at the West End's most popular used bookstore could finally breathe a collective sigh of relief. January was typically a month of austerity in the US, especially in the retail sector, which made it a good month to take stock and look back on the year that was, and begin serious planning for the year ahead. The decision to open earlier on weekdays and Saturdays, as well as offering breakfast sandwiches, meant major staffing adjustments and a lot more work for the openers. Despite the passing of the holiday rush, the store still need to hire a few more people. So far, the first Saturday morning was a success as the neighborhood discovered the new adjusted hours and menu items, but the store was just a little strained under the increased customer load. A number of Merges were on-site, though of course only one was currently behind the register; the others were either doing dishes or checking stock in back. Gretch was doing her best to 'play well with others' on bar while Lynn worked the floor, using her amazing social skills to good effect. As usual, the two lovers were going back and forth via mental communication, and as often was the case, it was playful and fairly snarky. I want you to list five things you like about Merge. Really? We're having this conversation? Five things. Fine. ...I'm waiting... She...always smells nice. Wow. Really, that's your opener? She does...cool stuff with her powers sometimes. Cute outfits and stuff...

January 2017 FLSCH Library "Okay, everybody, that looks great!" The two hour lesson was almost over, and now Mark Lucas was moving from person to person in the small group of students, checking out how well they'd matched his painting. The famous hero, looking like a model in his dark suit and gold tie, had painted a scene of the Freedom City skyline and invited his small group of students to either try and emulate him or "paint whatever's inside you!" Somehow he hadn't gotten so much as a smudge of paint on him, even his artist's smock was nearly immaculate, as he studied everyone else's work. Some of the students had emulated his painting (with varying degrees of success), others had painted cities more familiar to their homeworld or dimension, and one really had gone her own way with an image of starry nights being overrun by "Hah-hah, well, that's pretty frank," he said cheerfully. "Probably don't want to let the kids see that one." When the lesson time was over, he said "Okay, we have to give the chapel back to Karen soon, but I'll be here to answer any questions you have about your work. Nice job, everyone," he complimented as his students started packing up their work. "Next time, I think Gabriel is coming in for singing lessons. It should be fun!"

GM Over the past few week, there'd been visitors to the fens, driving in with a sleek, too-nice car, and Cassidy had noticed people he didn't know in the building. Standing alert, aware . . . Aware of him, in fact. Now, they were the only people Cassidy had seen in teh building. And as if that wasn't enough, today it was raining. The sort of cold, hard January rain that hit the ground and turned to ice. The fens had retreated into itself; no one wanted to step aside for fear of slipping. It made sense, then, that it was a little quiet that night, in Cassidy's apartment. The lack of footfalls above his head, the lack of arguments from next door . . . Maybe it should have comforted him. At the days' end, the steady pitter-patter of rainfall still audible through the shoddy Fens architecture, Cassidy's phone began to ring.