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GM Saturday, October 8th , 2016 Aaron Cage Gymnasium, Claremont Academy, Bayview 6:38 AM It was an early Saturday morning, the sun had not yet ascended over the horizon, the ocean east of Freedom City. It was a quiet Saturday morning too, with most of Claremont Academy’s students still asleep, some only recently having returned from nightly trips to various places, with various goals. Other places around the city were much the same. People slumbered, only few were up on a Saturday morning, and of the ones that were, hardly anyone did it voluntarily. However, like always, there were exceptions. In this case, the exception was Jann Fa-Re, also known as Bird of Arms, who had a strict morning exercise routine. And things like “weekends” or “days off” were not part of that routine. His weekend routine was different, granted, as the gym was empty during mornings. And that meant he could train there without any interference, which was something he appreciated. Plus, waking up his roommate was not something he was fond of. Another such exception was Aníbal Miramontes, also known as El Huracán, a student of Claremont Academy too. He had just been wandering past the entrance to the gym, as he noticed something happening inside. Another student, who had started this year, and was mostly noticeable for the fact he had wings, was currently going through the obstacle course inside the gym, using a variety of acrobatics, but not his wings, to proceed onwards.

82 Eridani System Thursday, September 28, 2016 Cavalier flew along side Sea Devil through the inky void, taking in the unfamiliar sights. There was an index full of the various planets, moons, and asteroids of the system, but he had never actually seen them with his eyes. Still, Mentor had recommended this as a nice peaceful system for a trial run. And surveillance. Mentor hadn't been so direct in calling it surveillance. But when Cavalier had asked why he was being asked to take Sea Devil on a ridealong - especially when she hadn't gotten off on good terms with the young Deep One, and her time in space had been far from a walk in the park - Mentor had relented and given him the full scope. "The individuals who tampered with our armor to make the Spectrum Knight design were powerful, intelligent, and given to deception. Although we have examined the altered armor in detail and found no obvious tampering, we know from our own designs that the armor can adapt under proper circumstances. It may be best to see if Ms. Innsmouth has managed to develop new... hidden talents in use of the armor. Talents that were hidden just so they could be... discovered at the right time." A full analysis would be too invasive; however, if Cavalier rode along, Mentor could analyze the code of the Spectrum Knight armor to see if there were any nasty surprises lying in wait. Of course, convincing Sea Devil to go along all on her lonesome might be tricky. Hence why Cavalier had been given dispensation to hire the Voidrunners, with whom Sea Devil had a somewhat better relationship. And hence why he'd had the request approved to let Sea Devil bring along Jessie, who'd also been dragged about half the galaxy alongside her. And hence why he felt like the fifth wheel on this whole trip. But he was the one in charge, so he had to make sure he was everyone's fun uncle rather than their drill sergeant dad. "How do you like the sights?" he asked Sea Devil. "Anything catching your eye?"

GM Thursday, September 22nd, 2016 Common Room, The Dorms, Claremont Academy 6:20 PM It was one of those days. School had been quite average, the lessons as bland as ever. But now, school was over, and people had retreated to the dorms. Some spent their time studying for the upcoming tests, some simply relaxed, others pursued their hobbies. Everything was business as usual, some people had left the dorms to do stuff in the city, some were in their rooms, usually sitting at their desks, while the average crowd had gathered in the common room. Some played darts, some watched TV, a few were gathering around the pool and ping pong tables that had been set up too. Jake Cross had just finally been able to leave the school building and return to the dorm, after some slight troubles he’d gotten into. He entered into the common room, being greeted by a crowd of “oh”s and “ah”s, most of them coming from the group that had gathered around the Pool Table. The people behind it, a group of students, some of them a year older than Jake, others in his class. They were not very notable in any means, had various powers and average grades, only stood out due to being a clique. The noises were something Jake had started to grow accustomed to, it happened quite often. But, today was not a usual day, and his patience had already been tested. Worst of all, one of them, the closest thing they had to a leader, moved away from the pool table and looked at Jake. He was a 17-year old guy, average looks, blond hair. Jake had no idea what his powers were, all he knew that this guy had started the entire thing, and was the one that did it the most. “Hey Cross. What’d you do this time? Another one of those little incidents they want us to forget?” He turned around to look at his clique again, speaking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. A few people, both from the clique, but also others in the room, began to smile a bit, a slimy smile, one that proved they knew exactly what they were doing here. “I’m telling you, it’s only days before he finally does it. Powers like his corrupt, one day he’ll just do it, I’m telling you.”

September 16, 2016 With the summer months come and gone sundown was coming earlier to Freedom City with each passing day. Even in the dim dusk the lamps flanking the monorail track cast stark shadows on the cement ravine below, the pillars that held the track aloft creating even bars of light and darkness. Marring that pattern came a pair of headlights, accompanied by screeching tires and unmistakable bursts of gunfire. The rust red sedan crashed through the steel link fence, hanging in the air briefly before slamming down onto the sloped cement with a great crash and screech of protesting metal. Almost lost in that cacophony was the whisper quiet purr of the inky black motorcycle in pursuit. Clad similarly in black its rider practically melted into the bike's silhouette in the dim light, a crimson wing pattern up its sides the only detail separating it from a black brushstroke across the scene. It easily followed through the path opened in the fence and sped after the sedan, wearing back and forth to avoid the increasingly panicked fire from the car's occupants.

GM El dueño de ti Colonia Doctores, Mexico Saturday, September 17th, 2016 11:00 AM In pulque's heyday, there were over 1000 pulqueria's in Mexico City. Changing times, and a heavy handed propoganda campaign by beer companies, led to the decline of pulquerias. To the point that there are only handfuls left in the entire country. El dueño de ti, was one of those few remaining vestiges to days long gone. And more importantly, it was the long agreed upon meeting place between Serge and an online correspondent he had been communicating with for some time. Serge had volunteered his aid in helping his online pen pal in their search for a missing loved one. It was pretty much the sort of situation that was perfectly set up to end with the kidnapping of a young American teen. Which was the exact conclusion the Ministry of Powers had made when they had caught word of the chatter between the teens. As the situation matched that of an English youth who had been missing for some three weeks now. His last known location this very pulqueria. Silently an old contact of Klara's asked her, if she could personally stake out this meeting and hopefully find the missing English Youth. Of course, the Ministry of Powers had no way of knowing that Serge was never in any danger to begin. Even if his friend was simply a cartel lure, Voin would not be the only superhero on the scene that afternoon...

GM El Chopo Colonia Guerrero, MexicoSaturday, September 17th, 2016 11:00 AM Much like every Saturday afternoon before it, the open street market was filled to the brim by the thousands. Every youth subculture under the sun was represented. From the head bangers to the hardcore street punks. To the naked eye, it was just the start of another weekend. But, at least two tourists knew of something more sinister for sale in the flea market this week. Hidden in the deepest depths of the darknet there was chatter of an alien black market auction. The interested buyers weren't megalomaniacal supervillains in need of the latest super bomb. No, the sale was targeted towards mundane organized criminals looking to outfit their footsoldiers for a leg up on the competition. That was if they could even find the auction in the first place.

GM Madden's West Freedom, Freedom City, NJMonday, September 12th, 2016 6:00 PM Samantha Vance and Tona were enjoying a cozy dinner in one of the popular Madden franchise's. The cozy atmosphere, did nothing to hide a notable peculiarity from the pair. They were being watched. Every other patron in the restaurant gave subtle nonverbal tics that revealed themselves to be law enforcement, or possibly even military. The distinction was very thin. None had made any overt signs of aggression. In fact, up to this point the rest of the restaurant seemed content on letting the couple enjoy their meal.

GM October 1st, Saturday, 2016 Miles offshore from Emerald City, Oregon, the PanStar Pacific Proliferation Platform(P3 Station) "We're very excited to have you both here, Dr. Delacroix, Dr. Anderson." Though easily a few heads shorter than either of the two men, Olivia Oum, Director of PanStar's Ocean Developments division, seemed a positive giant among the ever-present crush of workers, technicians, company people and sundry humanity scurrying around the shiny-new fish farm and cloning facility. All of them quickly made way for the quartet of Dir. Oum in her crisp blue suit, her PA whose eyes never left her phone (which did nothing to impede the rest of her work) and the two visiting scientists. There was certainly plenty of space on the Platform, an enormous silver-white dome intersecting two massive rings cradling an advanced force-field system that let water and nutrients in and kept a great many other things out. Every ceiling and floor bore PanStar's gold star, the symbols of its associates(Emerald City's MarsTech, Ming Xi Visions and Saito Solutions) while the rain-streaked windows looked out at a recently-passed storm front and a heaving deep-grey sea. Leading the way to an elevator, Oum went on blithely "PanStar has worked hard to make the world a better place, and with this, a way replenish our dying ocean's ecosystem, we hope to avert a disaster even this world's heroes have been powerless against." With a swipe of her thumb against a colored bar the door rematerialized behind them. The PA's head tilted slightly upward "Zhou in manfac needs another bulk order Ma'am, 203E-5s, tungsten." "By all means, Panita, put it through." Oum smiled benevolently to the visitors as the elevator descended swiftly, the Pacific Ocean surrounding them and the submerged levels of the Platform as a cloud of darkness and shifting shadows deepened by the facility's lights.. "We understand UNESCO's need to ensure our full compliance with the law and the highest ethical standards, given the stakes at play. Rest assured, Dr. Anderson, we have nothing to hide and every member of our staff will comply with your review. Or I shall know the reason why." The dazzling smile the compact woman shone at the Englishman did nothing to undermine the undertone of ferocity. Turning to the American, the Director added "Dr. Delacroix, we appreciate the willingness of the Institute to gives its second opinion. Your work in bioscience and the in-depth understanding of business your brothers have displayed fills us with confidence that this will lead to a swift and mutually-satisfactory conclusion!" Relaxing against the transparent metal windows, Oum asked brightly "Do you have any questions?"

Uh... hi. My name is Arcturus. I don't know if anyone will ever see this, but if you do, it's because I want you to know that I'm... well, alive. There's been a lot happening and I haven't had time to sit down and really figure it all out, but I know people will ask where I've been for the last three years. So here goes. Somewhere in East Africa, September 2013 Marcus Irons probably should have been more concerned that he had missed his own graduation. It wasn't that his high school days were some sort of social nightmare; he had made plenty of friends and had one things he'd never dreamed of doing. Still he couldn't help but feel like he didn't belong there. While he certainly had a greater understanding of what it was to use his abilities to help others, he hadn't made much progress on understanding his powers themselves. Explaining his magic to others was one part impossible and four parts embarrassing--most didn't even believe magic was real. It didn't really hit home until his senior year and he was asked to help out with a rescue mission in Eastern Africa. It opened up his entire world, and suddenly he felt less compelled to go back. What was supposed to be a simple evacuation of flood victims turned into something much more sinister. An encounter with pirates and human traffickers nearly resulted in an innocent girl being shot. Arcturus reacted out of instinct and protected her with a Beast Rune form he'd never used before, and while the outcome was a favorable one, it left him confused. He needed answers before 'instinct' turned him into some sort of monster. The problem. however, was where to look. I knew exactly one other guy who used a similar style of magic. He put me into contact with a friend of his who looked at e like I was crazy when he examined the Beast Rune. War-Earth, January 2014 "Are ye SURE yer okay?" The diminutive artificer looked up from his magnifying glass00or whatever it was in his hand; Marcus really couldn't tell. Marcus nodded slowly. "Of course. I mean... I was born with this rune so I figured it was... hm. Normal isn't the word I'd use." Marcus grimaced a little as he felt something cold against his back. "What are you doing anyway?" "Examining. Doctor things. Shh." "...should I be worried?" "How many magical bear shapeshifters have you examined, son?" "Okay. you might have a point." "Never seen a rune fused to a person before. Not like this. Makes sense though... you said it affects all your other magic, right?" "That's right." He nodded again. "I can use magic but it always feels like the Beast Rune is part of it." "Aye... You physical types are all like that." When Marcus didn't say anything, he continued. "See, when anybody uses magic, some of that power always comes from within. So... if the Beast Rune is part of you.." "But I don't get why THAT happened. The whole... turtle thing." "You wanted to protect that little girl. Guess the Beast Rune was tryin' to do the same." I'd never considered that the Beast Rune wasn't trying to take over. It made me wonder if the key to understanding my magic wasn't in asking someone else but asking the Beast Rune itself. When I was a sophomore at Claremont, Eldritch hinted at it but he never really gave me a straight answer. I understand now why I had to come to that conclusion on my own. Unfortunately, I never got the chance.

September 2016 Lincoln Dancia had spent a week away from the office, covering a story about the new generation of West African nuns who were taking over an isolated Franciscan nunnery down on the Maurice River in southwestern New Jersey. it had been a fascinating story and a chance to meet people she might never have met, but the nunnery's remote location had left her isolated from world events. No sooner had she arrived back at the Ledger that she had a stack of urgent messages - including one from a familiar UNISON agent asking her to arrange a meeting with Triakosia at a remote cliffside lookout spot near Lonely Point. "This is an urgent meeting. Please let me know as soon as you've arranged it - and when we can see her there."

Content Note: Disturbing Content, Gore September 2016 Freedom Hall The world survived the Terminus Invasion. But only a few people on it survived a Terminus invasion - from the other side. Neither Steve Murdock nor Tarva the Black had so much as looked at each other upon their arrival in Freedom Hall. Rather, they had taken seats on the opposite sides of the conference room's big table, each joined by their closest allies, responding to the one summon in the multiverse that could bring the two of them together under one roof. Freedom Hall and its staff seemed on edge tonight- and no wonder, with all the crises great and small that had come that summer, and with this new crisis no doubt whistling through the super community like an incoming shell. "As you know, the Freedom League occasionally dispatches remote multiversal probes to probe areas of Terminus activity, using Zero Zone technology originally gathered from the Centurion." Daedalus, who Steve knew was no mere man but an ageless immortal (at least in the realities he knew), looked fatigued today, and perhaps some shadow of his age. "That's the source of the data we send to Archetech and the DuTemps Building," he added, with a nod to Ghost Girl and Miss Americana. "Typically the data we recover is largely fluctuating levels of entropic radiation. A multiversal weather report," he added for the benefit of the non-cosmic scholars in the room. "Recently, one of our probes was activated by a significant surge of entropic radiation greater than what was observed during the invasion of 1993. This triggered its internal video function and autonomous exploration unit." - It was Liberty Park. Or had been, once. The city was transformed into abomination. A red, pitiless sky lit by a too-bright, too-blue sun lit a park whose trees had burned and stones been shattered by spiked half-spheres that gleamed with an almost organic oily wetness. The doomforges lay empty now - but there were Omegadrones perched on them, the light, quickly-made ones that could nonethless slice a normal man in half or throttle him alive, like flocks of demonic birds waiting for the kill. The forges themselves were decorated with a scattering of corpses like so many mounted butterflies, the impaled, half-decayed corpses of beings who by the bright colors of their tattered costumes had once been superheroes. Tarva had turned paler and paler as the film played, her eyes staring and hands pressed flat against the table in front of her as if she was about to bolt, while Steve was bolt-upright in his chair and watching the film with an intensity that suggested a gathering storm. "...those drones are dead," he said, his voice a low rumble. And sure enough, one of the drones, one perched at the very edge of the doomforge that must have created it, actually tilted and toppled off as the group watched, hitting the ashy ground below with a tremendous crash. "Is this actually from the Terminus," asked Tarva, her voice tight and close to tears. "Can your probe peer so far?" "No," said Daedalus, shaking his head. "The radiation levels suggest there's been cosmic compaction on a tremendous scale - but this universe has not yet, for the moment, been pulled past the entropic threshold."

Silberman's Books. August 31st, 2016 10:05am. It was just after 10, and the forecast was brutal; the store had only been open for a few minutes, and it was already a furnace, because the AC was down and it would be a few hours before the HVAC repairman could make it over. This and the large standing sign in front of the door warning about the lack of AC kept a lot of the regulars from coming in for their morning cup, which was sad, but seeing that many of them were elderly, Lynn that it as best that they knew from the get-go. Of course, due to their respective powers, neither Lynn nor her partner Gretchen was uncomfortable, so they pretty much had the store to themselves so far this morning; Lynn was using it as a chance to catch up on paperwork in her office, while Gretch sat on a stool behind the counter reading Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, a collection of reviews by legendary rock critic Lester Bangs. Normally she'd be on her laptop, but without working AC she was concerned about the poor thing overheating. Several industrial standing fans were set up around the store to offer some relief for any would-be shoppers, and an oscillating desk fan perched on the counter next to Gretchen, occasionally stirring her hair with its breeze.

Fred's Diner. Corner of 49th and 6th. Freedom City, USA. 11:29 PM Freedom City's cowls were a rarefied bunch. They knew each other and how they worked; and when one disappeared, it was noticeable. Not enough to cause a massive stir - some heroes just came and went - but Cerys Pefr knew Morgan Crowe a bit better than most. He might be appalled why, mind, or approving - either-or. As it stands; he'd dropped off the grid about four years ago, shortly after a quiet wedding to a young lady. Scuttlebutt said he'd disappeared from the very limousine carrying them to an airport for a honeymoon, no less. Neither'd arrived at their destination. He'd picked a fine time to disappear, though - Parkhurst had been up to it's eyeballs in their own problems, and by the time it became obvious he was missing, they couldn't find hide nor hair of him or her. Just another unsolved mystery for Freedom City. Until now. Rumor had it that a familiar cowl and coat had been working the Waterfront and the Fens again, with occasional appearances in other trouble spots across the city. That Crowe Security Consulting had reopened - citing a brief closure for renovations. That a face had appeared in Parkhurst at least once, studying tomes of scrying and tracking. That a lot of questions had been asked - usually at fist or knifepoint - to various henchmen concerning one Victoria Knight-Crowe. Or Crowe-Knight. And, in other news - one Morgan Crowe was apparently now a semi-regular patron downtown at Fred's Diner. Best milkshakes and burgers in town. He sat at a corner booth, looking over a folder of security information - using a knife to ferry fries one by one to his waiting maw.

September 4, 2016 Liberty Park, Freedom City Lunchtime The Labor Day cookout was in full gear this year in Liberty Park, the city's largest green spot being covered in colorful tents and packed shoulder-to-jowl with cheerful citizens. Children and parents were celebrating the first long weekend after the start of school, salarimen were relishing the extra day of repose, and just about everyone was enjoying the last burst of summery weather before the inevitable decline into gray, snow, and cold. Tents had been organized along the road-side edge of the park, offering BBQ and face painting and fried food and local art and cold drinks and local radio personalities. In particular, grills and smoke and savory flavors were enveloping the northern corner. A raised platform had been put together and a long table laid down there, with a bright banner above it and speakers affixed at the highest point. The speakers crackled to life as a man in a blue tee-shirt with "WBAL" emblazoned on it tapped on a microphone. "Freedom City, welcome to the annual Labor Day Liberty Cookout!" He paused for cheers and applause from the audience. "This is our biggest year yet, and this year our panel of celebrity judges have fifteen different mouth-watering barbecue plates to sample and rate!"

Library Claremont Academy Freedom City United States of America What was this unfamiliar sensation? Oh. Yes. Regret. That was it. Jake lay across two chairs in a back corner of the academy library - a stick of black licorice sticking up out of his mouth like a flagpole; lightly shaking as it was chewed. He was dressed in his usual fashion - tooled leather boots, blue jeans, sleeveless shirt, wide-brimmed hat, metal limiter harness. Around him lay the detritus of study, more specifically, a ten-page essay on the significance of early adoption of capes in heroic fashion. Well, more like one page, at the moment. If you were being generous. And counted two words at the top as a 'page'. And counted your name as two words. The fact that it was due tomorrow, in turn, may have been contributing to the unfamiliar sensation. Jake chewed on the licorice (still tasted like drek, damnit), staring at the ceiling tiles.

Wednesday August 24, 2016 The Waterfront, Freedom City GM Post Tourism had always been a valuable source of income for the city of Freedom. The main draw was obvious - FC had seemingly more superheroes per capita than any other city in the nation. And once you got here, the residents had devised many other ways of extracting your money from your wallet. The casinos were always popular, as were the restaurants. But one of the most consistently popular tourist activities was the citywide tours offered by a number of organizations. When the city was full of superheroes - and consequently, a history of superbattles - it made for an town rife with landmarks. The waterfront had proved to be a surprisingly popular location for many tourists. The many docks and cargo ships that were constantly coming and going, loading and unloading, was already an impressive enough sight. Add in the ability to recant the history of the various superbattles that had taken place there, and you had a major inconvenience for the workers who had to be constantly shooing clueless tourists away from loading zones. It was a hot day, with the sun beating down fiercely on the city from the sky. Cargo ships blared their deafening horns as they methodically rumbled through the water - which did nothing to deter the busload of overexcited tourists from taking pictures of everything that moved while chattering to each other excitedly. The guide seemed to be weakly attempting to get them back to the subject of whatever landmark they were supposed to be admiring - but the crowd was cheerfully ignoring her, their attention having instead been captured by the spectacle of a forty-foot shipping container with a "Mercury Shipping" logo in the side being hoisted into the air by a towering crane. For residents or citydwellers, it was a none-too-impressive sight, but for those new to both Freedom and cities in general, it was apparently miraculous. Sharp-eyed observers might have noticed dockworkers expressing some consternation at the situation. The unruly tourists were crowding entirely too close to the work zone for comfort, disregarding the yellow warning signs. If there was an accident or malfunction of some sort, bad things could happen - but what were the chances of that happening?

Above Silberman's Books. Monday, August 1st, 2016. 11:36 am Lynn unlocked the door and pushed it wide open as she stepped into the living room/dining nook of the one bedroom apartment Tona recently vacated; the room was bright and airy, with hardwood floors, white painted walls and a working gas fireplace flanked by built-in bookshelves. Salvaged stained glass windows on the east wall added color and a charming rustic quality. "Okay, so this is the front room; that pillar sort of designates the dining area, but obviously you can use it however you want. There's no central heating or air, but the radiator heat is free and works great, and you've got ceiling fans and an AC unit in the bedroom." Gretchen followed in, pointing out the small flat-screen monitor on the wall near the door. "I've upgraded the security system. Multiple cameras, motion and heat sensors, extra sturdy locks."

Friday, August 26th, 2016 Roberta Isles Garden, Claremont Academy, Bayview 8:01 PM It was the last weekend before school started again. A great time for all those who still wanted to spend a lot of time on Freedom City’s streets to do just so, before the troubles and pains of school would return. Of course, there also was the Kick-Off dance happening at the gym, but not everybody felt like attending that, for one reason or another. Among those deciding to head out was Aleksander Nakani, or, as he was known in costume, Nevermore. In costume was what he was right now. He had been walking towards the garden, it offered a nice and not too obvious exit, preferable to the school’s main entrance in most cases. As he walked, he came by the Zen Garden, currently looking better than it had in a long time, one of the freshmen that had arrived earlier this month had spent a lot of time there. However, as he walked, he noticed something. Something out of the ordinary, something that shouldn’t be as it currently was. The carriage house, something about it was off. As Nevermore moved closer, he realized just what it was. The access to the subbasement. It had been used, broken into. It was not a big trace, only a slight misplacement. But Aleksander had seen these entrances many times, he knew when something was off, even if it only was by an incredibly small amount. While Aleksander was taking a closer look at the entrance, hidden but apparently not hidden enough, it just so happened that Jack Huang Faretti entered through the garden’s entrance up north, quickly spotting Nevermore, in full costume, doing something with the entrance to the subbasement, but from the current distance he could not tell just what the cowl was doing.

The Liberty Dome was situated between Midtown and the Theater District. A large events complex where the city’s major sports teams play. The 80,000-seat stadium also plays host to other sporting events as well as major concerts and shows during the year. It modern and modular and able host something like the high end charity concert (a couple grand for the privilege), as well as have facilities for the after party. It also had a dumb name. Well Amir felt that was the case, it felt so dated, but then he supposed that was better than auctioning off the naming rights every five to ten years. At least the Europeans had that right with their naming conventions for such buildings, sports economics notwithstanding. As per usual he had arrived in high fashion, in his latest acquisition a 1937 Bugatti Type 57SC Atalante, sky blue with white trim. It cost him quite a bit, and he wondered, precisely, how much was the car for himself or the image he had cultivated carefully. He still liked it, however. What he didn't like was this concert, he was here to support the charity, something... he couldn't remember which one as he did so many. He couldn't get away with spending money on one of these things and then disappearing. He'd eat it in the press, and the rumor mill. It didn't help that Agnus was performing. So... here he was, trying to not interact with Agnus, while doing his best to be personable. Fortunately her hair made her easy to track, and adjust his path and everything accordingly, managing to come across extra 'not entirely present' tonight, while simultaneously wishing he could get three sheets to the wind.

Friday, August 26th, 2016 The Athletic Field, Claremont Academy, Bayview 8:14 PM The sun was beginning to set, the Academy’s main building, located to the south catching a last few glimpses of sunlight. Most of the school’s students had returned or arrived already, in preparation of the new school year starting in just three days. Some had also stayed through the break, or arrived earlier, earlier in their summer break. Among the latter group were Jann Fa-Re, Selena Kwon and Alexander Lloydd, all of whom had been at the school for at least a few weeks now. They all got along, so they had been spending time together, and were doing so right now. While many of the students attended the Kick-Off Dance held in the gym, or were out in the streets of Freedom City doing their own thing, these three had decided to take the relative silence this day would offer, with most people doing the best with their last few days of break-time, to work on something. They had planned it, they had acquired the supplies they needed through various ways, and as the sun was now setting, it was time to put the plan into motion. Meanwhile, a few dozen feet to the south, Naomi Suleiman was spending her time inside her room. A dance did not interest her much, so she just was inside her room for now. Suddenly, something caught her attention. Through her window, she saw a group of people, three or so, flying above the athletic field. It was something unusual for a variety of reasons, including the fact almost everybody was currently at the dance.

Friday, August 26th, 2016 Aaron Cage Gymnasium, Claremont Academy, Bayview 8:03 PM The Kick-Off Dance was the first major event of any school year at Claremont Academy. Traditionally it was held on the Friday before the start of the year the next Monday. It was no different this year, and people had flocked to the gym, much to the delight of various students who had spent many hours during their summer break to organize it. Banners were hung alongside the wall. Somebody had actually brought a disco-ball. Along a table on the wall various bowls of punch had been set up, and bar tables with peanuts and chips on them stood scattered around the gym and just outside of it. A stage had been set up too, elevated just slightly, a DJ table slightly off to one side, with the rest of the stage for people that wanted to dance where everyone could see them, or some pre-dance entertainment. A smoke machine was not needed, the DJ, a now-senior student, provided the smoke with his powers. Outside, the sun began to set, while inside the lights had been dimmed, spotlights towards the stage. The entertainment phase had just ended, and the dance was about to start. A new arrival , taller and more muscular than most students, had just left the stage after a short vocal performance, the DJ was currently giving a few final words before switching to music for the rest of the evening. “Okay people, that was Hau Ta … Tayou … just Hau! He’s still looking for bandmates everybody, go talk to him if you’re interested! And now, a short break while somebody fetches a cup of punch for me, they’re free after all, and then it’s gonna be music the rest of the night. I’ve got some good songs planned, so don’t leave anytime soon!”

GM August 15th, 2016, 6.00PM An abandoned subway car, underneath Stark Hill... It was a remarkably pleasant dream that Osla Jonsson was abruptly jerked from. Standing on the half-rusted roof of the car, eyes twnkling as he met the groggy woman's gaze, was a man in furs and leather with red hair that flickered and shifted like fire underwater. "Osla. Dearest debtor." His voice, as usual, was full of a childish self-satisfaction at talking down to someone who could never hurt him. It was, admittedly, a rare thing for the nominally-bound trickster. He began to pace the roof, his illusory booted feet making no sound "I have decided not to wait, as I'd at first expected. An opportunity has presented itself already." He grinned down at the archer "You are going to attack a superhero tonight. Not directly," he frowned and his pacing grew more rapid "Your victim is none other than that most valiant and stalwart champion of unalloyed justice, the Hammer Thereof. I have no wish to lose such a valuable fish, so this battle while certain to rattle will serve you danger's most minutest dish." "He has a safehouse for some weapons and sensitive information that he cannot trust to Stark Hill." As he spoke, the man took out his dagger and began idly scratching at the wall with it "You are to go to it and destroy everything in it. How hardly matters to me, though a little self-preservation and restraint never hurt anyone. All I care about is that it is done, and done tonight." "That's all. Be a good girl and don't die. I could never keep a straight face in front of your father if I had to tell him." With a snicker, the man was gone. But the scratches on the wall remained. Garf-Stav corner. Remember, a Hammer falls...

August 21, 2016. Northwestern Outskirts of Freedom City. Jameson Airport Lounge. 8:00 AM. Her name was Inari Jefferson. She was about 5’ 5”, African American, and held a Doctorate in Archaeology. She was waiting. Their benefactor’s (for lack of a better word) plane wasn’t set to leave for the better part of an hour. Inari was already packed. In fact, her luggage was on the Learjet already. Everything but her regular gear, which was on her. The compound bow and quiver were on her back, and the climbing axe was on her hip. She was waiting for who would basically be her four assistants on this trip. Though, with that said, they were professional superheroes. She couldn’t boss them around like they were undergrads. Her normal place of employment was FCU, but for this trip she was on a short sabbatical. Inari was at the bar, nursing a club soda. Hopefully this trip would go well. Inari had only gotten this job because she was just about the most famous archaeologist on the planet. That didn’t matter too much to anyone outside of archaeological circles, though. It didn’t seem to be important that her discoveries came at cost of up to half her field team. She simply had a knack for finding what either really didn’t want to be found or that someone with a lot of money and thugpower didn’t want to be found. It had only been three times (okay, four, but she was barely a HS grad back then) over a period of 12 years. All it had been was simply survival, nothing more. Better fighters, better archaeologists, and overall better people had died. She hadn’t. That was all there was to it. Still, it was nice to be wanted.

August 19, 2016. Freedom City. The Waterfront. The Abandoned Warehouse. Yes, That One. 11:00 PM. It had taken a great deal of research and effort to get to this point. Over a month of work, which was quite a bit for the supergenius heroine known as Terrifica. Still, now she knew exactly what needed to be done. She had posted a need for superheroic assistance on Capeslist, and two had bitten, filling the Thief and Grifter archetypes (phrased in a way that would decidedly not set off red flags across law enforcement and superheroic systems, of course). That wasn’t all they could do, naturally, but it was what she was looking for. Time had run out and she could wait no longer for responses to the Hitter and Hacker requests. However, she had sent a message to Miracle Girl, who would suffice for the former and Terrifica herself would quite suffice for the latter. Now it was a simply matter of time until everyone arrived. Terrifica had arranged a table and five chairs for the occasion, just in case a Hacker decided to show up at the last minute. The last batch of criminals to use this place were currently in jail. And of course, Terrifica herself waited in the shadows. She was no fool. She would only reveal herself when everyone had arrived. Any second now, someone should be arriving.

Ellis sat in a khaki shorts and a sage polo sipping his iced coffee on the warm summer afternoon. The call for this 'friendly coffee' hadn't been exactly a surprise but Ellis none the less was uncertain what exactly to expect of Carson. He supposed there was always the chance that it would be some sitcom overprotective male act but he somehow didn't see Stesha standing for that kind of posturing on her behalf as well intentioned as it might be. Most likely it was another in a long list of friends that had seen her hurt before and was worried their exceptionally nascent romance might do so again. He had resolved however to meet the man regardless of purpose it couldn't be worse than the dismissive sneers the dragon woman aimed his direction most times.