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Saturday, March 28th, 2015 Millennium Mall, Freedom City, New Jersey Afternoon The Millennium Mall was a huge place, filled with shops of every description, and packed with roving crowds of shoppers, families, and couples. Ami Rask was indistinguishable in the crowd, and it was only partly because of her height. In the crowd she was just another young, pretty girl, holding big bags and with a hot credit card in her purse. She had been shopping for most of the morning; with the weather turning, it was time for her to update her spring wardrobe. It’s not that she didn’t have anything from the last couple years. It was just that she didn’t have anything new. Ami dropped into a heavy leather chair, one of the sets placed strategically to help exhausted shoppers rest and recuperate. As she breathed, she watched the crowds passing around her. A woman eight or ten years older than she was, pushing a stroller with a sleeping baby in it. An older man, with gray in his hair, walking hand in hand with a bald man. A harried man carrying his toddler in a baby bjorn, while texting. The displays of affection made her smile as she rested, a window into the lives of normal people. More people came by and she watched them, growing more pensive. A young couple, his arm around her waist, window-shopping. An older pair, with kids running around their feet. It made the young girl acutely aware that she was shopping, all alone, for herself.

A hand dropped, two men screamed at each other, and they came together, limbs blurring as they struck and blocked and parried and countered. It was an amazing display of physicality, martial prowess, and controlled fury. Controlled, because when the man in the blue robe stuck the flat of his hand into the neck of the man in the orange robe, they both froze. The referee shouted, the men separated and bowed, and a few of the more knowledgeable spectators applauded. Tona Baudin was one of them. She had been especially interested in the arm-lock the tai chi master had attempted, and the way the snake-style specialist had slipped out of it almost bonelessly. Her eyes glittered in anticipation as she looked at the next few fights coming up on the docket. She hadn't even know this martial arts tournament existed a month ago, until her friend Mali mentioned that she was going to watch. In just a couple of weeks though, the young archer had become obsessed with the idea. A place where she could see all sorts of fighting styles on display, measured against each other? It was a thrilling notion to her, and she had waited impatiently for it. Tona wasn't happy that she was restricted to sitting in the bleachers, but registration had closed months ago. She had eventually, reluctantly, agreed that her own style was too wilde and improvisational to be judged in formal competition, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy what she was seeing.This was her Super Bowl, her World Cup, her PAX, all rolled into on, and Tona was determined to take in as much as she could.

There had been a spate of small power outages over the past several days. A slice of Freedom’s grid would blink off for as much as five seconds before blinking back on. A few blocks of one would go out, then come back. Then an entirely different neighborhood. The Fens. Lantern Hill. Southside. Lincoln. Even Bayview and Port Regal managed to get in on the act once or twice. It was weird, but Freedomites didn’t pay a lot of attention to it. It happened mostly in the dead of night. The power company said it’s nothing. More interesting things happened on a literally daily basis. And so on. Until Claremont Academy’s power “blinked†for the third total time, no one had taken much interest in the happenings at all. November 21, 2014. Claremont Academy. 11:45 PM It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously. There was a pretty good thunderstorm going on in the skies of Freedom. Vonnie would normally be asleep by now. Class in the morning, and all that. But today was sweet, glorious Friday. He and LJ could text each other all night long. Or he could stealth over into the girls’ dorm and spend the night. His roommate slept like the dead, and her roomie slept like a rock. Or was one. LJ couldn’t tell, and Vonnie didn’t care enough to find out for himself. Yep, he was going over there and d#$% the consequences if he got caught. He strapped on his grapples, opened his window, and leapt out into space. A short grapple and climb sequence later, he was at her window. Wet and a bit windblown, but there. A few soft knocks after that, he was in her room and they were both sitting on her bed. Huh. Her roomie both slept like and was kind a rock. That was when the power “blinkedâ€. Somehow just short enough of an outage that the emergency power didn’t trigger and come on. Vonnie sighed. Third time in three days? His “this is a job for Samaritan†sense was tingling. LJ had a similar sense and gave him the “just go already†look. They started having a conversation based entirely on specific looks. <But he didn’t know where to start. Also pressing business here, yes?> <Vonnie, you know better.> Vonnie sighed quietly. “It’s not like New York. I was always first there. But there’s so many heroes in town, now I’m lucky if I’m fifth. I don’t know. I just feel kinda…extra, you know? Like I’m not needed, because someone else will always handle it.†LJ nodded. “So that’s why you’ve been patrolling less lately.†She grew thoughtful. Then she plucked him in the head. “Ow. What was that for?†“You’re overthinking stuff again. You’re not there for the dozen, hundred, thousand or more that don’t need you. You’re there for the one that does. Don’t give up so easy. It’s not like you.†Vonnie stood up. “Alright. But I’m telling you, somebody’s already on this. Probably have it sorted out before I even figure out what’s going on.†On that note, he opened LJ’s window and leaped out. Back in his own room, he grabbed his mask, shirt, and black hooded windbreaker(as his roomie continued sleeping like the dead) and made the most undramatic change from Vonnie Murray into Samaritan. Mask & shirt on. Jacket on, zipped up tight and hood up. This time, though, he’d go out the front door like a normal person. Yes indeed. Being just about the fastest non-speedster on campus did have its perks. He was out of the building before anyone had the chance to realize he was gone. He made it to the Gardens before running into anyone. He thought he recognized some of the group assembled under that big tree, if not all of them. He stripped off the mask, stuffed it into a jacket pocket, and pulled his hood tighter. “Hello?â€

December 25, 2014 In Shropshire, Daniel Frewer turned his head to the sky, wondering suddenly what lay in the heavens. In Osaka, Homura Kato froze on the subway, feeling a sudden sense of calm and tranquility. In Alexandria, Amir al-Khudari locked himself in his apartment and spent hours writing page after page about some coming revelation, the dawning of a new prophet. Across the world, a whisper was falling into the minds of humanity. A thought launched like a needle, to grow and take hold for when the time was right. But for some people, the whisper was more like a shout. National Astronomy and Ionosphere Center Arecibo, Puerto Rico 9:12 PM The Scarab meditated above the structure hanging suspended over the gigantic radio telescope. She had felt the psychic broadcast raining down on humanity, and knew what it meant. If people were being guided towards a certain thought, it would likely come with a hard suggestion - and one of the best places for that to come through would be a site aimed towards receiving messages from the heavens. Something had come through early, however. When she arrived at the telescope, she had found the scientists in a mad bacchanal, offering praise and worship to whatever lay beyond. She had tranquilized them and managed to undo the damage, but they were still recovering. Now was the best time to turn this force's tricks against it. She just hoped the others would arrive to provide a full counter-offensive.

In Chicago, Sam paces her bedroom, circling her bed with the nervous energy of a caged tiger. She'd had an ear to the ground for years, waiting for this day. And now... Three letters. Three independent sources. Three clues, all pointing the same way. Dammit, why now? Not that later would be any better. Gotta go, gotta get to... but there's so much going on right now. To drop everything... But... She stops, and sighs. She may not like it, but the decision is obvious. She looks out her window to the vast, snow-covered lawn and sighs. A thief must always be ready to pack up and move. She's gathered too many attachments. This is not a mistake, but it has a price. Time to pay up. She pulls out a phone and sends her girlfriend a text, actually using proper grammar. "Hey, Tona. Something came up. We need to talk. It's important. Mind making sure there's space in the broom closet? -Sam" This is going to suck.

GM April 20th. There were in the wrong part of town. The criminals. Well at least the wrong timing for the wrong part of town. It didn't really help that they were in a neck of the woods (also know as The Docks) that Wildcat resided in. Or more accurately where he had his day job, and then a couple things out of place, and it led him here, during a shipment. Which had to go through here, air travel and shipping being a bit more watched than the sea and ocean going stuff. Which meant that one dude was taking a boomerang to the face, which was a polite response to the man drawing a gun. It was akin to say, 'No, sir, I do not believe that is a topic that belongs in our conversation.' The other three did put up a bit of a fight, however.

The Southern Queen was located near 76th & Wading, technically in the North End of Downtown Freedom. However, it was just as close to Parkside and Lantern Hill. Meaning even people from the West End or Midtown came in sometimes. That said, the regulars were people who all worked or studied at FCU mixed with the odd person who actually lived in the North End. The people who ate there more than once swore by it. The Queen didn’t have any particular style, which worked both for and against it. In fact, the menu itself said right at the top that it was just a list of suggestions, and that the Head Chef would produce virtually any dish on request, provided the Queen (or the customer) had the ingredients on hand. That said, the menu itself was full of generic fare. The kind of thing you could find in almost any home kitchen in America. There wasn’t a drop of fussiness or fancification about it, though some of the combinations were interesting. Which, again, ran entirely contrary to certain food critics’ delicate sensibilities. It was Sunday brunch, meaning Maybelle Mc Queen (Head Chef and the superhero Queenie), was busy as a bee. The place had been packed full to bursting last week, but now? It was a nice day, and they technically had the permits and a little space out front, so a few extra tables and chairs had been placed outside the front door to alleviate the problem. Lo and behold, it worked. There was a free table outside, and a pair inside. Maybelle had been just running around the kitchen all morning. If anyone had looked closely enough, they’d have seen her feet weren’t even on the floor half the time or more and she was moving a little too fast to be on her feet. But…everyone was either too busy or preoccupied, and the Head Chef’s ability to fly when unremarked upon. Then, suddenly, everyone currently seated had their food in front of their faces. Maybelle more or less collapsed into a chair at the free table outside and heaved a sigh. Break time, hooray. Well, sort of.

Omni Parker Hotel, Boston, Massachusetts Friday, 5 June 2015 Noon The historic facade of the Omni Parker House overlooked the historic stone King’s Chapel and the historic green burying ground. It was a normal, busy day in the heart of Boston, and the hotel was busier than it usually was with men and women in neat suits filing into the entrance. In the middle of them were a few types that particularly stood out; like the man in the long saffron robes, or the woman in buckskins, or the man in a long cassock have a quiet, heated argument with a woman wearing a Catholic nun’s habit. The crowd flowed up the stairs and into the mezzanine spaces, congregating around the Isabella Stewart Gardner and the Harriet Beecher Stowe rooms. With its doors opened to the 23rd Interreligious Convention, the staff at Parker House were continuously updated to the different dietary requirements the speakers and registered attendees had indicated. The lunch they had laid out for the first day of the convention was blander than they usually strove for, but each steamer platter was still delicious (and had its ingredients cleared listed). Siobhan Drake found herself in line, staring at a starched wimple and waiting for her chance at the crab cakes. While she suffered in a non-smoking room, she felt a tug on her sleeve. She turned, and saw a young man in an old man’s body smiling at her. He was her height, balding, slim, his wrinkled face pulled into a bright smile, and a vibrant energy burned from every pore of his body. “Professor Siobhan Drake? I must say, I very much enjoyed your paper about occultism in post-war Western countries.” He smiled broadly and rocked on his heels, evidently pleased with himself at pronouncing ‘Shiv-awn’ properly.

GM AEGIS Stealth Fighter En Route to Hong Kong Sunday, February 22nd, 2015 6:05 PM On October 10th 2014 Agent Henry Hand, an ex-special forces officer turned AEGIS agent, betrayed the organization. Exposure to Daka crystals had turned hand into a madman. That was only the start of AEGIS' troubles. Hand's capture did nothing to prevent various exotic stolen artifacts that the man had acquired from entering the black market. It was the heroine Terrifica who made the first great strides in following chatter of some sort of secret underground auction occurring in Hong Kong. AEGIS efforts to collaborate with local law enforcements had been stymied behind walls of political red tape. Despite the high level of autonomy Hong Kong managed, the city state had to let the MSS (Ministry of State Security: China's premier intelligence and security agency) take point. The MSS agent in charge of the proceedings only relented in allowing AEGIS to conduct their operation in Chinese soil if AEGIS agreed to bring Terrifica in as an outside third party. Apparently impressed with her investigative efforts. So it was that AEGIS sent a stealth transport plane to Hong Kong in the hopes of recovering some of their stolen artifacts. The US Government also saw the need in keeping its ducks in line. Wasting absolutely no time in sending their special liaison to AEGIS on the flight. Special Agent Lazenby stood in the middle of the craft holding a small laser pointer as he readied himself to brief the small four man party on board, consisting of Terrifica, Captain Henry Thompson, Special Agent Yves Zermeño, and Agent Alyssa Wild (an Israeli woman who spent most of the flight cleaning the parts to a sniper rifle). "If there are no questions may I begin the briefing?" Agent Lazenby openly questioned.

GM New Genesis Inc ( A Grant Clonglomerate Subsidiary) The North End, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, November 3rd, 2014 4:14 PM Nestled squarely between Freedom City University and the many upstart tech properties lied the newest startup lab. Headed by Dr. Francis Newman, New Genesis Inc is a biongengineering firm. Dedicated to "providing a better tomorrow, today" as the words on the lobby say. The building was a dome shaped testament to architectural advancement. Appearing much like a sleek metallic lotus flower from the outside. The inside dug below the surface of the city. Secure access making a break in a difficult task. In reality, the building was a repurposed supervillain lair from the 1950s. Each floor filled with its own scientific think tank. Scientists are actively rotated among the floors depending on the need of a particular project. Leaving very few people actively aware of any projects that they weren't personally involved in. As part of Claremont's Work Study extracurricular program. Thaelia and Cho had been chosen to shadow Dr. Cassandra Steel for a week. Just as she was selected to join a developmental study on the lowest floor of the New Genesis labs.

GM The Rock Outer Reaches of Contested Space Tuesday, May, 5th, 2015 When the Stellar Khanate initally rose to power, Star Khan needed a prison facility for all criminals too value to simply kill off. Known informally as "The Rock",. the Khanate's best architects created a hidden prison on an asteroid field within the oribt of a resource fueled planet known as Veritas. The prisoners were periodically brought down to a mining colony on the Veritas to participate in forced labor.The prison was designed almost entirely with "re-purposed" technology. Namely Lor technology. Every guard an emotionless Lor Enforcer robot. Only the Wardern and the on site doctor were flesh and blood Zultasians. The various defense measures made the prison impenetrable. With not a single documented escape or break in. The Rock was basically a fortress in of itself. After Star Khan was bested in the Lor-Khan war Veritas broke away from the Khanate. And with it the prison planet. Most Government bodies were led to believe the prison fell out of use. In reality, The Rock became a private enterprise. Storing prisoners for those willing to pay the right price. The Enforcers also acted as bounty hunters collecting prisoners and faking their deaths before transferring them to the Rock for the credit reward. Providing the Warden with a never ending stream of prisoners to act as miners even in the present day. Every criminal worth his salt knew to avoid the Lor's Enforcers. Never knowing if they were the genuine deal or hired goons for someone with enough pull. Unfotunately, Star Shot's crew of intergalactic environmentalists were not criminals proper. When Lor Enforcers boarded their ship they assumed they were being questioned on a routine stop. They were wrong and promptly arrested. In reality, a Lor Diplomat faked footage claiming them to have been poaching rare interplanetary wildlife. All to prevent them from bringing to light evidence of his own illegal gaming. Deep Freeze thought ahead. Sending out a request to an underground crimenet for a cash reward. Anyone who could rescue the captured crew would be generously compensated. Only one crew was reckless enough to actually willingly get captured by the Enforcers. In the middle of being processed for their own suspect criminal history, such as attacking a certain law enforcement officer made of sand, the Voidrunners grumbled as all their equipment was taken by the Enforcers. Bliss and Ruby instantly regretting going along with what could only be described as another plan Roulette purposely designed to tick off his comrades. Elsewhere, in the prison cafeteria, Seika had just accidentally bumped into a bloated round shaped purple skinned extraterrestrial creature with eight arms. The creature's tray fell on the ground and it snarled. Almost instantly the purple creature was joined by three other large creatures. "Stinky two arms!"

The Southern Queen was somewhat ideally situated (near 76th & Wading), or so thought one Maybelle McQueen. Though technically in the North End of Downtown Freedom, it was just as close to Parkside and Lantern Hill. Meaning even people from the West End or Midtown came in sometimes. But, mostly it was the college crowd mixed with the odd person who actually lived in the North End. The people who ate there more than once swore by it. The food wasn’t of any particularly style. In fact, the menu itself was more of a list of suggestions than a hard list. The Head Chef was known to produce virtually any dish on request, provided the Queen (or the customer) had the ingredients on hand. That said, the menu itself was full of generic fare. The kind of thing you could find in almost any home kitchen in America. There wasn’t a drop of fussiness or fancification about it. It was the dinner rush, but Maybelle was prepared. Honestly, the cooking was finished for everyone currently seated. So, she was doing her “pretend to be a waitress†thing. Most of her customers had no idea what the Head Chef looked like, or even what her name was. Not that either thing was a secret, but really, how many people going out to eat really care about that sort of thing? The Queen was the draw, not Maybelle herself, and she liked that just fine. She wandered around the dining room, quietly making sure everyone was currently satisfied with their meals. Like every night, there were some dissatisfied customers. Can’t please everyone, after all. But that was all right. Maybelle smiled and smoothed things over. The staff swooped in. The problem got solved. A normal, everyday night.

GM February 28, 2015, 10pm Eastern Time It was quiet at Claremont Academy. The students were either a quiet Saturday night in Freedom City or resting snugly in their dormitories. Some were preparing for their routine "patrols" and others were working out in the simulator room. Headmaster Summers had discovered a strange uptick in bandwidth usage reported from his IT support at the school, and it was beginning to become worrisome. Worrisome as the FBI had sent an agent to investigate a large uptick in illegal downloading and uploading centered on the school. After a thorough investigation of the student activity over the network discovered nothing, not even a scrap of what was reported in the FBI investigation. This was going to not be a easy solution, but the Headmaster had an idea of how to start...

Planet Ja-Gorr, Lor Colony, Edge of Lor Space Earth Year: 2015 Ja-Gorr could be best described as an arid planet. Not quite a desert planet, as it wasn't all sand everywhere but definately an arid and inhospitable planet. Discovered by the Lor decades ago it mostly languished in obscurity, a backwater, until the events of the Communion excursion brought new blood to the planet; people fleeing the mechanical horrors. Unfortunately, the peace of Ja-Gorr is about to be shattered, as recent excavations have begun uncovering priceless artifacts and attracted the attention of those who would desire them. __ Starhunter-Class Za'akis Ship, Toh'krev Hovering above the planet, the Starhunter-class ship, a multi-purpose battleship and a mainstay in any Za'akis fleet waited silently. Inside, however, it wasn't so silent. Far from it, in fact. Dark and cramped, with a lighting set for Za'akis eyes, the ship was filled the sound of rowdy Za'akis warriors. On the bridge, it's captain was observing the planet surface, half in contemplation half in chewing on some meat. The door to the bridge slid open and a figure walked in. "I assume by now you've sent your men on the planet, Voltark?" asked the figure, dressed in somber robes, unlike the armor of the others. The figure was carriying a staff, like a badge of office. Of course inside the staff were weapons but that was to be expected from the warrior race; even bureaucrats and officials were armed to kill. "It's CAPTAIN Voltark, need I remind you!" Roared the captain, pivoting on his chair. "Or do you wish to challenge my position?" He said, snarling and showing rows of yellowed teeth. The bridge staff glanced at them briefly, before turning back to monitor their stations. It wasn't worth their attention. Unless a fight actually occured, that is. "No of course not." Politely replied the official, smirking. "I have no intent in becoming a captain. I like my current work just fine." He chuckled, fully aware that he didn't need to yell or roar to make himself look feared. Not every confrontation had to be resolved by a brutal display of force. There were other means to assert dominance. "Yes, they're down on the planet. I'm expecting a report soon, we'll see if what they've found is what we need. Then, maybe...maybe we will reform the Empire." __ Unknown Ship in orbit of Ja-Gorr Unknown to the Za'akis, a second ship was in orbit, hidden behind one of Ja-Gorr's three moons It's crew was composed of gangly tan-and-grey vaguely insectoid aliens with quills on their back. However, their leader was humanoid, possibly a Lor offshoot. Touching a metallic orb, the alien entered a trance. "Everything is proceeding well, my mistress. We have encountered some- y-yes, I know, any trouble will be dealt with I- Y-yes, no. No. No need to worry, my Queen, they will not get in our way." The alien said, with great fear in his voice. __ Orbit of Ja-Gorr Finally, a third ship arrived in orbit of Ja-Gorr: Corona's ship. The Outback Overwatch Patrol & Survey had sent her there to investigate information that unknown artifacts had been recovered on the border world and colony of Ja-Gorr. According to the initial report, they appear to be incredibly ancient terraforming devices, something people are quite eager to get their hands on following the events of the Incursion. Once there, her ship's sensor immediately picked up a ship in orbit, belonging to a race sometimes associated with the Stellar Khanate, the Za'akis.

(GM) The Glencairn, a 100,000 metric ton freighter labored in the rough seas just outside of Freedom City. It had been a rough crossing and Captain Eric Mathers was going to be happy to make port and give the crew a day or three leave to compensate their near steady state of vigilance. He'd been making the run from Amsterdam to Freedom City for nearly a decade and he couldn't remember a series of storms like the one's they'd been cursed to slog through. He had seen the string of spring storms and had guessed it was going to be a rocky go, but not quite like this. Normally, the Glencairn made the journey in seven days, but they were already two days late and the crew was getting jittery. He could practically feel the tension on the bridge as they bore in on the US coast. "Right two degrees, let's get in that shipping lane nice and easy Mr. Jones," he said as they made the last of their corrections to bring them to the channel leading then to the docks. "Yes sir," Jones, his pilot responded, making the subtle change. Captain Mathers shook his head and sighed, taking as sip from his cold coffee, "Jones, land is going to be a sweet thing to see..." "I'll drink to that," Jones replied looking down at the console, "just another 20 miles or so and we'll enter the harbor."

Claremont Academy, Bayview, Freedom City Saturday 9th May 11:00 am Daphne had a strange relationship with Claremont. Whilst she wasn’t quite a student, she was quite happy studying at Burroughs, she had been attending Claremont's to help learn more about her powers as well as fight alongside a kickass superhero team, when there schedules aligned. But today she’d been asked, by that very nice headmaster, to meet one of the new students another psychic students and help them understanding their powers. Not that Daphne understood her own power completely, they’d just been there since the day she woke up from her birthing pod, it was just natural to her and her powers had only got stronger the more she used them Which she guest was kinda the point.

Moscow, Russia Approximately 10000 miles above the center of the city Monday, February 2nd, 2015 1:14 AM Foreshadow's last trip to Russia ended with him uncovering a >secret soviet conspiracy to win the Olympics with yet to be resolved complications. Dressed to the in full costume, Foreshadow was currently leaning outside of the open side hatch of the plane. Thousands of miles above the city of Moscow. "I still think this is a bad idea." An all too familiar reservation from the pilot called out. His pilot was an alcoholic that couldn't even find stable employ with a PMC groups. Mohammed Azzam was a veteran of the Soviet War in Afghanistan. A man whose sacrifices for his country did not end in the war when he stepped on a landmine left behind by the Soviets. Both his leg and arm were metallic replacements crafted by the local ASTRO Labs equivalent. And he was the last person who felt comfortable "borrowing" a stealth plane to sneak into Moscow air space. "Your reservations are noted. Your payment has already been wired." Foreshadow's words were followed by the act of him leaping out of the moving plane. Diving down towards the Russian capital. Armed only with a parachute that hadn't been maintained since the late 1980s. It was the sort of night Foreshadow lived for. When Erick Sloane popped up on Interpol's most wanted, he was inconvenienced. When Erick Sloane was flagged at the London airport as a domestic terrorist, he was a little irked. But, when an assassin showed up at his adopted father's home Erick Sloane was beyond outraged. Of course, David could more than take care of himself which gave Erick a starting point. It took a lot of effort to track down the source of his troubles. A long winding road that made one thing especially clear. Someone in Russia had it out for him. Someone knew he was Foreshadow... His recently established ties with Vanguard meant Erick had someone he could call if he needed assistance. A thought that had crossed his mind many times. There are just some things you need to do alone. Things like sneaking into a country with some of the harshest prison conditions on the planet. * * * Even at 1 AM, the hero's descent into the city was a public affair. But, none of the witnesses who claimed to have seen the lone man parachuting into the center of the city ha managed to snap even a picture. Even fewer could place the direction he had run off towards. The acrobat had wasted no time in donning his disguise. Dirtying himself up he looked like a poor brown haired (hair dye was a wonderful thing especially water soluble die) tourist with a large lack of money. Just the sort of person a local hostel would gladly take in. Erick was counting on the fact that whomever was after him would be alerted to his public entrance to the country. While at the same time he needed to blend as quickly as possible. Though a single assassin had been sent to David's place. There had yet to be a large out and out declaration that Foreshadow and he were one in the same. His foe was either sitting on the information or the fallout was instead a revenge motion due to his costumeless taking down of the Doctor and the Sleeper's olympic plans with Dee. Either way Erick was set to get to the bottom of this whole thing. The rest of the day was spent socializing with the other patrons of the Hostel. Kristoff, as Erick had taken to calling himself, was a mouthy lad that mostly kept to himself when not preaching about the environment or new age mumbo jumbo. Essentially he was a walking stereotype of the typical 'skipped college to save the world' youth that one could always be sure to find at a hostel. Notable only in his ability to annoy the other patrons.

May 25, 2015 "...thanks to the selfless commitment and bravery all those who..." It wasn't that the sentiment wasn't heartfelt but the halting, uneven delivery by teenaged grandson of one of the veterans in gathered in the small park next to the VFW building did nothing to breathe new life into the paint-by-numbers speech and after growing up on military base after military base it was nothing Vicki Adams couldn't have recited even without the cue cards the kid was relying upon. As Memorial Day ceremonies went it was on the more solemn side, attended mainly by aging veterans and their family members but the promise of bingo and a raffle with an ArcheTech tablet as the grand prize robbed it of a little of it gravitas. More than anything it was a welcome opportunity to gather generations together and consider how lucky they were to be there together. The small cemetery on the other side of the park, its ornate fence lying just past the folding table holding the punch bowl and bingo hopper, was a sobering reminder of that. Looking serene as the bright sunlight shone over neat, well maintained rows of gravestones it was a quiet oasis next to the sounds of squeaking metal chairs, buzz from an inexpertly deployed sound system and intermittent coughing.

May 15th It was supposed to be a week long trip. One planned by Elias, with one instructor, Mr. Landis, being the one watching to make sure this didn't go belly up. It was a hiking survival trip through the Pine Barren in Wharton. So the potential was there. Given the intent, all the students were told to pack rugged, and since more didn't have camping gear, it would be provided. Given the nature of the Pine Barrens scavenging would be tricky, but there would be an effort for it. A return to simplicity that the students needed after the last year, or so. SOme more than others. They were completely helpless, but they were not oing full scavenge, the Pine Barrens wouldn't allow for it, and they had to account for water too, after all. Also it would serve as a senior project for Elias, who he had to come up with the study, as well as teach some of his skills to other. So he was being graded on this, as well as him being watch to see if he was truly socialized, as Mr. Landis argued the kid was ready to... whatever awaited him after graduation. So with the van parked, packs were taken, ameneties were kissed goodbye. There wasn't much lead in to, but those familiar with Elias knew that would be the case, as the telepath always seemed apt to go off half-cocked and do things. So him packing a machete might be a concerning, but he waited for everyone to get ready, and he glanced to Mr. Landis, who shrugged and gestured back to the kid. "Okay... Camp site is five miles." And he moved handing each of them a map and compass. "It should be an easy hike, there is no change in elevation. Try to avoid powers if possible, and unfortunately we can't really hunt, but we can do snares when we get settled, but the seaon is bad for it. I know some of you don't really need any additional survival stuff, but..." He frowned a little bit, and then he moved to pluck a pale green lichen from the tree, "I guess we have to start somewhere, this is Old Man's Beard. It will work as wound packing, and the stretchy semi-clear interior," he said as he rubbed at the outside of the plant so it will show, "This had some anti-septic properties. It's not much, but if something happens it'll do in a pinch." And with that he stuffed it into a pocket. "Alright let's get going then." And with that he turned and started out down the trail. Clearly not at ease with the task at hand. A couple hours later and some kids more tired than others, they were at the spot, though it wasn't finished. "I'll work on the firepit. We're start here by looking for sufficient stuff to make a lean to. So you want groundfall limbs, several of about six feet or so" And with that he set his stuff down, and then started on working at making a centralized fire for which they had could be set up. It was needed, given rain was likely. "And pine boughs will be useful too, we wont really have anything else."

March 7, 2015 WYRM's move to the DeWitt Building had gone well. The new suburban location put the kids in a safe, secure location where they wouldn't be tempted by anything unwholesome in the neighborhood. The nearest restaurant was the Subway across the street, next to the big medical complex, and they were a good twenty-minute walk from the nearest bus station (faster if you had superpowers, of course). The worst trouble they could get into was the tobacco store in the strip mall down at the very end of the street, right where Ashton became unincorporated territory. But the kids were well-supervised - and the old hippie who ran the place knew to keep an eye out for them. WYRM had stayed busy over the last few months, pitching in to help out during the Communion invasion and other crises around Freedom City, doing the subtle work that made sure many of the civilians around the city noticed them and their good efforts, even if they still weren't on the radar of most super-teams yet. "That's okay," the kids were always reassured, "we're doing this work to set the world up for great things - not to make ourselves famous." It was a little frustrating the more glory-minded among them, but they all knew they had bright futures ahead of them. On the morning of March 7, Rampart was out patrolling in the area when the special WYRM communicator they'd given her during her last happy visit chimed. Something was going on that required her special services.

Silberman's Books. Friday, May 1st, 2015. 12:08pm It looked like it as going to a really nice weekend weather-wise, which usually meant busy mornings and afternoons at the small independent bookstore at the corner of Pratt and Frederick; as much as purists might scoff, Lynn knew when she reopened her family's store that adding the cafe elements would help drive revenue. True, some people just stopped in for coffee and a bagel as part of their daily routine, but they often grabbed a paper, magazine or gift card for a friend, so the hassle of milk and coffee deliveries was, in her eyes, totally worth it. Except for days when the milk order was running late; then Lynn wanted to hang herself. They were out of skim by 10:30 and almost out of soy, which tended to make many of the older lactose intolerant customers grumpy; they still had lots of almond milk, but there were often allergy issues. Lynn was in her office sitting behind her massive desk, trying to reach the dairy for the third time since before opening. "Oy gevalt, this is nuts; who doesn't have voicemail in this day and age?" Meanwhile on the sales floor, Maddy was helping a young couple find a special book for their niece's fifteenth birthday, and Lance was working the bar, a bandana covering his head as usual. Meanwhile Gretchen, Lynn's personal assistant, was sitting at one of the tables with her MacBook, a stack of completed applications and a large Americano within easy reach. - - - There was indeed a 'Now Hiring' sign taped to the window next to the front door, just as Fast-Forward said there would be; now Sam just had to go up the stairs and head inside.

March 1, 2015 Dublin Circle This little cul-de-sac in the Fens has a little more character (or at least a little more prosperity) than the rest of the neighborhood - there's a mom-and-pop Vietnamese eatery in one corner and a few hair salons in another, and while the row housing is old it's very well-maintained. There's a reason for all that. Almost four years ago a gigantic alien limb smashed into a row of tract housing and old warehouses on this street, smashing them to rubble and leaving behind a rotting mass of hideous misshapen flesh. In the years since, Archetech has cleaned up the mess, rebuilt the area, and paid money to encourage new residents to move into the circle. Which meant that when a little boy named Andy Toth reported hearing voices, voices coming from his toys, that little Andy was Archetech's problem. Andy's caregiver, a single mom named Ruth Anne, had called Archetech first - after all, as she'd said on the phone, it was probably Archetech's fault her son was hearing voices! Who knew what had sunk into the water, or what had been picked up and built into the new house where they lived? Ruth Ann had also called her local free clinic for a second opinion - which meant that today (all unknowing), there were two superheroes headed for the small Toth house, Monkey Wrench there to investigate on behalf of her new employer, and Graft on his way to see a very unusual patient!

Friday, May 1st, 4:32. One of the few pleasures of working hard was knowing that one was about to get off of work and be paid for that labor - and the laboring dock workers of Freedom City knew that well. Crates with goods going to every corner of the globe passed through to be distributed along the Eastern Seaboard and over the country, or vice versa. A task of Sisyphean proportions, as it seemed no matter how many shipping containers they loaded or unloaded, there was always another cargo ship coming into port, another few tons of cargo to be loaded. But hey; one man's impossible task was another man's job security. One worker clamboured out of a loading crane to wipe his brow, already thinking of the cold beer and quiet refuge he'd retreat to when his shift was over. "Harry! You asleep up there?" His supervisor laughed from below, pushing her hardhat up to peer up at him. "Whaddya mean?" The mildly offended worker complained, looking - as he so often did - vaguely confused. The supervisor gestured to a pair of shipping containers to her left. "We need to get that ship loaded up before five! You forgot two." She pointed out, her clipboard hanging from her waist. "Really, man?" "Th' heck I did, Stevens!" Harry complained, producing a shipping manifest from his back pocket as he climbed down. "Says here, boxes seven-three-ay-seven-twelve to seven-three-ay-seven-forty - neither'a those two are on the manifest. Dunno where they're from." Stevens frowned and peered at the manifest once Harry made it down, then at the two strange containers. "Weird. Where's this boat going, anyway?" "Pfah - England, somewhere?" Harry guessed. "Who gives a crap. Call up th' foreman an-" For a moment, Harry gaped - he was speaking, but there was no sound to be heard. Stevens quickly realized that the dock had fallen into an unearthly silence where it would normally be filled with a horrible racket in all directions. Nothing could be heard. Not the cry of a single gull, the waves, yelling from worker to worker. Stevens and Harry exchanged a confused look, before Harry began pointing frantically above the ship he'd been loading. Hovering several feet above the rows and rows of shipping containers was the vague outline of a man, a massive gout of flames indicating that a jetpack of some sort was keeping him in the air. "If you believe I'm allowing this filth to cross the ocean into my beloved England, you've another thing coming, young man!" The figure declared angrily, the crisp and disapproving voice of an English Gentleman cutting through the enforced silence of his anti-sonic grenades. In golden armor crossed with red and blue highlights, the Tranquility Tyrant set down upon terra firma, his heavy battle armor dispelling the silence he'd enforced. All of a sudden came back the roaring of industry and commerce, the startled exclamations of the workers and then, abruptly, the whirr of the Tyrant's massive cannon powered up. "Load these containers, ruffian, and be quick about it. The only suitable destination for this ship's foul cargo is the bottom of the sea." Harry gaped at the powerful-looking cannon leveled at him, then started scrambling back up into the crane in a panic to do as he'd been told - unaware that those containers contained only a bevy of powerful explosions, dedicated to destroying the cargo ship long before it would cross the ocean. Hopefully, somebody would arrive to see what all the ruckus was about.

A thread for Vicki and Eileen to get to know each other as new roommates. Taking place after 'Voice of the People', but before 'A Welcome Lunch. -= * * * =- It had been a long day, getting Vicki checked into the school, making sure her stuff had made it to the dorm room, getting her shown around a bit and introduced to a few of the students and faculty. Plus, y'know, some classes and stuff, which meant that Eileen had only been present for part of all of that. Now, however, after the sun had gone down and Vicki was no doubt tired and a little overwhelmed, it was just the two of them in the quiet of the dorm room. Eileen had only been there about two days by this point, but she'd already gotten her stuff unpacked and the beginnings of some personal touches on the room. She'd chosen the right side of the room, and had an old desktop computer set up on the desk, a picture of a woman and an older girl on the dresser beside that of a middle-aged man, and a poster of...Back to the Future on the wall? "So...you need any help unpacking or anything?" Eileen asked of her new roommate, sitting cross-legged atop her bed and regarding the other girl curiously.

Dakana International Airport, Dakana 16th February 2015, 13:00 EAT (GMT +3) It wasn’t often that Claremont asked it’s students to travel halfway around the world, even if it was school holidays, but it wasn’t often that the request came on behalf of an actual King. The request was rather enigmatic but seemed to come from an official source of the Kings household. After rather lengthy discussion it was decided that one of the schools semi-official teams, Next-Gen, would have the honor to travel to Dakana. Flight BP66 one of the very modern Airbuses lands almost on schedule at the airport in a long but comfortable flight, whilst you were travelling economy the flight had very generous legroom. With the correct paperwork in hand you breezed through immigration to pick up your luggage that had travelled as diplomatic bags. Everything had been carefully prepared to make thing runs smoothly. Soon you were in the ultra modern clean airport lounge looking for whoever was here to greet you to this small African country.