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GM Thursday 5th June Late... Sidewinder Tattoo Parlor It was hard to say when custom grew short in a Tattoo palor in Riverside. The place kind of buzzed along until the earlier hours of the morning, along with all the other new age shops, bookstores, gay and lesbian bars, and every other kind of new millenia bohemian and hippy who wandered the streets. It was, overall, a pretty friendly atmosphere, but, like all of Freedom City, pass midnight and dark, things sometimes got unfriendly. Drink had been drunk, and, given the bohemian artistry of the place, drugs had been smoked. And nasty things did happen. It was happening to one man right now, Vince Cotton. He had had a few many to drink, and was stumbling out of a gay bar worse for the wear, badly singing some club tune. Vince was a regular guy, but dressed up too well for a night in an alley. Gold watch, diamond cuff links, and a wallet stuffed with cash that nearly fell out of his pocket. He happened to be a literary agent for one of the biggest book publishers in Freedom, or indeed the states. And his job paid very well, including a rather vague notion of expenses that allowed him to party hard, and free, most nights. Drunk as he was, he barely felt the kick that took him tumbling into some trash cans and cut his head open on the metal edge of the can. He sobered up as best he could, but his legs had gone from under him. The two guys who approached him could have easily just picked up his wallet and left it at that. They didn't look like those kind of guys. The shaved heads, leather jackets, and nazi tattoos gave one the impression that it was about cutting a hole in some homosexuals heart first, and the money was just the bonus prize. If only it had been the other way round... Snickt! was the sound of a flickknife opening...

June 5, 2014 Namibia The private hunting reserve had been hidden carefully by the Crime League - or rather, by Orion, the League's huntsman. For a substantial cash infusion, or a 'favor to be named later', League members, supervillains, criminals, or simply the unscrupulous rich (which often fell into the earlier categories, depending on how you felt about it) could come to southwest Africa and hunt creatures as they saw fit. This could mean endangered animals like gorillas and elephants, exotic alien animals taken from far-away planets by the Crime League's stellar allies, or even extinct animals reconstructed in laboratories like the dodo or the Tasmanian Tiger. But a foolhardy guest had actually gone so far as to post pictures to the Deep Web, pictures which wound up falling into the hands of science heroes who had first tracked its location, then alerted the Freedom League, who had closed in with all the force they could muster. Orion had been defeated by Bowman in a daring bow-against-rifle duel, Blackstar had been beaten by Captain Thunder, and the day was saved... But what to do with all the animals? The League was on the case, but the story had gone beyond the League. It had become an international story in the last few days, one that had attracted significant media attention. UNISON had sent a team whose members included one of UNISON's most famous employees; Edge, the American superhero-turned-humanitarian, while the Discovery Channel (taking advantage of their connections with the League) had sent a documenary crew including Paige Cline, part of a dynamic duo of super-hosts that was unfortunately seperated today by something as mundane as a parent-teacher conference and the need to chaperone a field trip to Cleveland. The compound, located in the high desert, was built like an old-style English manor house (albeit with all the latest amenities) - the animals were in emergency housing in the shade thrown together by the League and especially by the UNISON team (thanks to Mark Lucas' special abilities), and an unusually pensive Edge was still there as the others went about their work. Mark had never really had pets growing up, and even though he knew this menagerie was made up of wild animals (some of whom would probably need to be put down), he was trying to fight the urge to take them all home with him. Instead he contended himself with volunteering, and so was currently in a rocking chair, nursing a baby wild boar that had mostly fallen asleep with its little mouth around the bottle.

June 1, 2014 Urgent phone messages were nothing new for Midnight Manor, even those that arrived at an hour of the day where no decent person would be awake. Was there crime afoot in the darkest corners of the city? Or more commonly, a cosmic threat like those that the newest holder of the Midnight legacy and his partner had so often battled? Not today. For once, the late night phone call had been for Erin. "Ms. White? This is Thomas Cleary, I'm the night supervisor here at Project Freedom. I'm calling you because Jessie White has had an incident with another inmate. We've placed her in medical isolation for now - but she's not communicating. we're hoping you may be able to help us figure out what happened."

May 29th, 2014 10:30am Rennamex research lab; A Grant Conglomerate's subsidiary The building at the listed address was rather unassuming, with the exception of the security checkpoint at the main gate. Besides the sign plastered on the front of the building, there was little to differentiate it from many of the other industrial office buildings in the area. It was relatively small, compared to its peers, at only 5 or 6 stories. It was tall, blocky and corporate, with next to no aesthetic qualities. The main lobby did very little to dissuade this feel. There was a receptionist behind a desk, that blocked them off from the rest of the lobby, the only way to enter was from a door on the other side of the desk, and like the three other doors in the lobby, required a keycard to access. At least two security cameras surveyed the scene. There was a small waiting area with a handful of chairs, and a coffee table with a few scientific periodicals and local newspapers. The only interesting bit was the scientist in a lab coat practically bouncing off the walls, only pausing long enough to look out the window into the parking lot. “They aren't due for another 10 minutes Dr. Steel. I can page you when they arrive.†said the exasperated secretary to the young scientist. “Not gonna happen Randy.†replied Cassandra shaking her head frantically. “They're a 16 year old kid with oblivion running in their veins. They're going to be scared coming here, and I have to put them at ease. Besides think of all the science! Do you know what Terminus exposure normally does to the body? Trick question! You don't, because nobody does, and I get to try to find out! Oh this should be fascinating!â€

GM Alleyway between two Dive Bars (Adrenaline, and The Wasteland) The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, March 26, 2014 8:20 PM Detective Valerie Archer was a proud member of Freedom's finest. Her spotless record, and military background put her in good graces with her superiors. Her habit of practically 'living at her desk' has lead to more than one person worrying about her personal life. But Detective Archer's record is exemplary. A long time lover of the law and what it stands for, Archer was aghast when she found a discrepancy in the amount of cash filed into evidence from the actual amount found at crime scenes after being partnered with a detective named Robert Grayson. In fact, she noticed this discrepancy in many of the cases Grayson and two others had been assigned for the past six months. Setting up her own sting operation. She sent an email from Grayson's computer setting up a meet between the three of them. And took a recording device to gather evidence. Unfortunately the detectives were on to her, and upon finding Detective Archer gunned her down. And if she were an ordinary detective, Valerie Archer would have died that day. But Detective Archer's record is exemplary. So exemplary she already gave her life for the job once. There was a new distributor attempting to spread his own strain of Zombie powder on the market. The dealer actually lined his bullets with the stop. Figuring any police that came after him that survived a gunshot wound would be hooked on the product, or die in defiance. Valerie Archer chose the latter option. And die she did. For all of six hours that is. Rising from the dead, Detective Archer found her body felt different. Her sense of touch numbed. Taste lessened. Everything could be willed into working order for sure. But for all intents and purposes she was undead. Very few people have become privy to the knowledge of her condition. Not even her fellow police officers knew. And if it wasn't for some unfortunate footage of her leaving the abandoned lot, the dirty cops would have left her for dead. But they knew Archer was alive, and set about forging evidence against her. Valerie Archer was now a fugitive overnight. Like many of Freedom City's other well kept secrets the Raven was of privy to Detective Archer's secret 'condition'. She even agreed, through secret messages, to help Detective Archer clear her name. Noting if she turned out to be guilty Raven would personally bring her in. But it wasn't the Raven whom showed up for the secret meeting in the alleyway between two dive bars.

GM Reginal Warrington IV's mansion, North Bay, Freedom City, New Jersey Saturday, May 24, 2014 9:15 PM Reginald Warrington IV was the curator of a local dinosaur exhibit, and the very example of old money. His work was merely a hobby funded entirely on the family fortune that he inherited. Hobby or not, the fact remained that in the circles Mr. Warrington ran he could not afford the loss in reputation that would have come about after the skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex walked out of the exhibit and disappeared. Luckily, Lord Steam was on the case. The man used his impeccable investigative talents to not only track down the skeleton but bring the perpetrators to justice before any journalists could jump on the story. In gratitude Mr. Warrington has decided to throw a festive celebration in honor of his good fortunes. And partly to show off his exquisite manor with a view overlooking North Bay. Lord Steam gracefully accepted, not one to turn down an opportunity to play as hard as he worked. The guests were amongst the most affluent in Freedom City. Almost anyone wealthy enough to get a wing of a building named after them was likely to make an appearance. The street was filmed to the brim with expensive vehicles as if it were a an automotive show on display. The music from a live band hired to entertain the guests carried through the night air complimenting the ambience of the evening even further. It only took an hour from the evening to slip away from being a celebration of a job well done, and just become a party for the sake of partying.

GM Friday 23rd May, in the afternoon some time... The Subway, somewhere running North into the Centre of Freedom City... At this time, before rush hour, the subway train was only half full, if that. Who where the unfortunate souls to take that train, on that day, at that time? A stressed out businessman, with flecks of white hair, and a hoarse voice trying, fruitlessly to get his mobile to operate underground, and to wipe the sweat of his brow. A young mother and her baby boy, only a few years old, smiling as she plays peek-a-boo A smiling old man, white haired and dark skinned, tapping his foot to some half-hummed jazz tune. Two girls, giggling to themselves over some shared secret, who looked suspiciously like they were playing truant from the last part of school. An unkempt man, possibly a beggar, keeping his head down and mumbling to himself, restless, and disturbed. Maybe suffering with some disorder of the mind. And... "Hey speccy-spaccy! what ya doin' here? Cant get enough of ya head being flushed down the toilet, huh?" Ace was your jock, a tall, blonde, muscular guy with a cruel sneer and big jaw that somehow exuded an attraction, of sorts, to both guys and girls of his age. His wingman was only slightly shorter, and had that faint hint of insecurity, hanging onto the tails of the alpha male. And "Speccy-Spaccy"? James King, a guy whom the fates had not be kind to. Thick glasses, bad skin, and the mildest of cerebral palsy that made him clumsy. In another world, maybe James would be blessed with a phenomenal intelligence, but alas, James was an ok student, maybe even above average, but he was not a phenomena. "Luh---leave me alone---Ace----" said the damp haired James, fear gripping him in sweat and a tremor. "Leave him alone, he says...hahaha!" laughed Ace at his wingman. "Hey buddy, I can't do that, you are my friend!" he said, all evil grinning. And who else on that fateful day? None other than Cho Paige Lee and Georgia Montgomery!

Saturday, May 10th, 2014 5:35 PM, EST Midtown, Freedom City Lively. Spirited. Boisterous. These words hardly did justice to the thriving scene that was Freedom City's Midtown, its streets packed with life on this balmy summer day. Some might say this place was the very center of the city, its heart pulsing to the rhythm of its multitude of clubs, eateries, and weekenders alike. But for all its charm and citizenry out enjoying their summertime Saturday, even Freedom City -- a veritable mecca of superhero activity -- isn't without its hazards. Pickpockets, thieves, mobsters, and yes, even super-criminals were an ever present risk. Such was the price of living amidst Freedom City; a place where anyone might be a costumed hero. But this afternoon seemed unusually quiet. Serene, almost. No police sirens blared their way through the streets. There was no raucous between super-powered giants brawling through the skies. Not even a single cry for help made its presence known. It was the quiet many of Freedom City's heroes yearned for; a sense of solace and peace. A chance for good, honest folk to relax and enjoy themselves amongst the bustling populace. Or perhaps it was just the calm before the storm.

A week after Easter, 2014, in an alley somewhere in the western Fens... "It's over." 'Another day of this, lungs burning, legs shaking...I'm in great shape, but it's never enough. And this,' he risked a moment's glance away from the desperate-eyed young man in the baggy clothes holding a gun to the alley around them 'must be the fifth time this month I've chased someone here. Or maybe it isn't, perhaps I am merely losing my mind after years of this with nothing to show for it.' "This will solve nothing, you know." Turning back to his quarry, the King of Suits kept his eyes on the general outline of...Carl? It was probably Carl. The important thing was not to let him fire without knowing where that bullet was headed. "Where will you be in a month? Can you even go that long, Carl, before something happens? And then what about Sherrie? What about your son? Is this what they need?" Nobody who fought crime for a hobby stayed careless around guns, unless they really didn't need to. In the wrong hands they were modern talismans of destruction and fear, and even in the hands of the just they could wreak horrors. Taking a deep breath, the King of Suits began to approach the man. Very slowly. "Carl, listen to me. This can not go on. The people who have you trafficking, will they just let you stay like this? They will want you deeper and deeper in their debt. They want to have power over you, but I can help you escape them. It is my duty to protect everyone in this city, Carl, I am not your enemy. Now," he smiled a little "could you put the gun away? Please?"

"Typical. Truly typical." Sekhmet's resigned sigh was largely lost behind a rattling boom as the concrete below her feet was struck by an arcing fireball the size of a small electric car and exploded violently. The goddess recovered with feline grace and continued her brisk pace alongside the more winded Set as they fled. "Aye, well, mayhap you could reserve your breath for running, oh Lady of Slaughter," the godling suggested as he hastily ducked under the chunk of metal propelled towards his head when a nearby fire hydrant was cleaved in half by a searing red laser beam. The taller Heliopolian did not look quite so concerned. "Too match pace with thee? Hardly necessary, liesmith," she assured him, though her stride quickened slightly after she glanced over her shoulder at their pursuers. "Methinks a training regimen may be in order." "I've considered hitting the gym," Set admitted, strain ruining the conversational tone he was attempting. "Don't want to bulk up, of course..." "Hardly seems a danger." "My, someone tis feeling catty today." "Tis another who should work on new jibes." "For once, I did not intend that as wordplaaayiie!" Another fireball sent a somewhat singed godling tumbling in an undignified tangle of limbs before he could scramble against the cement and back onto his feet. "I am now prepared to admit that assistance would not be remiss!" With a flat snort, Sekhmet reached down and picked Set up by the back of his neck, giving him a chance to find his stride again without losing too much of their head start. "Truly, I am shocked. The mortal Freedom League, then, or proven allies such as the water magister." "Eh? Nay!" Set objected crossly, pumping his arms with renewed vigour as he sprinted. "Think of the embarrassment, Sekhmet! I would have none who think reasonably well of me- ah, us to bear witness. ...ah! Inspiration!" Snapping his fingers, the godling abruptly turned on his heel heading toward an alleyway. "Keep our new friends occupied momentarily, oh Mistress of Dread!" With that, he dove into a shadow behind a dumpster and disappeared. "Of all the-- Set! Set! SEEEEET!" * * * * * On the well tended campus of Claremont Academy, a shadow passed over the relaxing Will Cline as someone approached from behind him, blocking the sun. "Hail, buuuddy!"

GM May 1st, 7.45 P.M., 2014, May Day Freedom-class cruise liner 'Supernal', just outside the mouth of the Great Bay, North Atlantic, auditorium... The magician clicked his black suitcase shut, looking gravely at the distant sea of faces beyond the inferno coming from the floodlights. "Really, ladies and gentlemen? Despite my best efforts, are you still not sated? Do you need more? Do you need...her?" An answering roar of "Yes!"s resounded from the packed seats, the audience thrumming with excitement. "Very well, my honored hosts! Then it is my inestimable pleasure to present the one you've all been waiting for! The one, the only..." Wiping his forehead in a motion disguised by a flourish of his resplendent top hat, mentally cursing the blazing stage lights once more, Jethro de Seine, master magician, gestured to the red curtains with his white-topped black cane. On cue, the floodlights zeroed in on the thin line between the massive sheets of cloth. "The magnificent, the elusive...Lara Drake!"

Two Miles From Lake Vostok Antarctica Friday, May 9, 2014 7:52 PM White. White as far as the eye could see. And cold that cut right through to the bone. Ever since he'd come into his powers, Cannonade hadn't exactly felt the weather in quite some time. But it said a lot that, even with his enhanced resilience, this was able to get right at his core. After only a few seconds on the ice, he firmly decided that Antarctica could go screw. He didn't know why he'd expected anything else. He should have known this would happen at some point - join a superteam, see everywhere from Hell to Honolulu. But while he'd usually gotten his more globetrotting assignments courtesy of AEGIS, it had been Edge who'd brought this one to the table. Apparently there was a UNISON research base near Vostok, dedicated to plumbing both the depths of the ancient lake and whatever things might be found in the snow. Cannonade hadn't gotten the full account, but a message had gotten out a few days back. There wasn't enough sensible content to lean one way or another, but the fact that something garbled and messy was coming out of the station could be considered a soft cause for alarm. Which would also explain their guest. Joe was used to the rest of the League, but apparently, the Indian woman had been seconded to Edge's assignment. She was a psychic, apparently, something that left him very conscious about what he was thinking. Her job was to check up on the mental health of the scientists. A place like this could do things to a man... and apparently, there had been rumors of whole expeditions who'd gone around the bend down here. There was a chance it wasn't all isolation... Joe just adjusted his jacket, and kept his eyes on the base. Soon enough, the security team would be out to wave them in. He just had to focus on that...

May 6th, 2014 The sun was bright and the sky was wonderfully clear as Baxter Bowles entered his uncle's old storage unit with a printout of the blueprints and flash drives with the programming he had found in his email a few days previous. It had taken some doing to find a few hours to himself but now here he was. The lights flickered on as he flipped the switch, casting a soft humming glow over piles of assorted electronics and a small work table.

"Stories?" Eden Espadas inquired with a hopeful inflection as she ducked her head under her aunt's elbow and pulled herself up onto Ellie's lap to get a better look at the medical text open on the table in front of them. With a small laugh, Ellie shifted the toddler about into a safer position. "Not exactly, Edie. Y'know how tu papa teaches people here? This is how I learn how to be a doctor." She'd set herself up at a deck on the dojo's first floor partly so that she could take advantage of the light coming in through the large front windows and partly so she could keep an eye on her niece as she played on the pads covering most of the floor. Chris had also mentioned something about coming by to work on the security systems in the headquarters hidden in the converted bomb shelter under their feet and with her brother and sister-in-law out celebrating their anniversary she wanted to watch the door in the meantime. Eden looked equally skeptical at the idea of a book that wasn't for stories as she did about her aunt being a doctor. She liked Ellie, after all, and she knew she didn't enjoy visiting the doctor much at all. She could only assume it was another case of an adult trying to be funny. They did that a lot.

GM 12.45 PM, 1st of May, 2014, Liberty Park, Liberty Perk The harsh winter hadn't yet given up its hold on the west Atlantic. There were still occasional snowfalls, and the air was chillier than any mid-spring noon had any right to be. The clouds reigned over Freedom City. Still, that made things like steaming-hot coffee all the better. One of the reasons Mega Howell had been invited to the busy coffee shop. The other was the man who had invited her there, Freedom City's Director of the American Elite Government Intervention Service, Stewart Bonham. His chair tipped back downright perilously, a mug filled with one of the shop's better blends in hand, and gazing at the bustling streets and busy park like a born sovereign, the handsome, cheerful Chief Administrator was nobody's idea of a secret agent. Dressed in a snug blue sweater and scuffed jeans with a Blades baseball cap over his curly brown hair, he looked more like a off-duty athlete than a government spy and soldier. "It's great to see the people you're fighting for, Velocity, catch a glimpse of the lives that need saving. Gives you some perspective, you know?" tossing back a mouthful of the rich liquid, he savored the taste with closed eyes. "That, and it's safer. People see us talkin...well, they won't think it's business." Regarding a passing schnauzer on a leash, and the old woman coaxing it along the cold sidewalk, Stewart added "You didn't have to come, so I'm encouraged you did. Tell me," he glanced up at the famed speedster and superheroine across the table from him, his normally bright blue eyes crinkling a little against the sun blazing between the clouds "If I told you 'AEGIS needs your help with a doomsday cult'...what would you say?"

Saturday, May 3rd, 2014 Later morning DeCosta High School, Freedom City The crowd had swelled beyond the gymnasium's bleachers, leaving many spectators standing on the basketball court or out in the hallway. The low murmur of conversation was an effective white noise, but the young girl perched on a top row was still able to pick out a few strains of conversation. "... Hope I can ask him about the tax on... " "... Wonder what he was thinking when he voted for... " "... Just who is running against him, again?" "... Whatever happened to his son after that fight with... " The Tona Baudin winced and purposefully turned away from that last one. It was more than a year ago that her robotic duplicate had tried to kill Aaron Walsh, and had then turned that same homicidal programming on her friends and allies. She had since repaired those relationships, but now the Congressman was back in town on the campaign trail, which her friends insisted had nothing to do with killing people. Still, Tona was making sure that no one else was going to try and attack Representative Walsh this time. She turned up the hood of her dark green hoodie with a fletching design and settled into her seat. Walsh was supposed to be out at any moment, and this town hall meeting was supposed to go on until past lunch, so she had to be ready to wait all day.

GM Friday 2nd May, late afternoon... The offices of the Ledger... "Hey beautiful, can I buy you dinner?" Marcus Lane was his name. He was a young man with chiselled looks, a mop of slightly unruly blonde hair and bright blue eyes the female staff often swam in. He wasn't the best dressed, the tallest or the broadest guy in the building, but he had a natural charm and cheekbones you could chop vegetables in. At the end of the week, the staff were winding down after five gruelling days of writing and reporting. Marcus was high on coffee, as always, and never stopped smiling or running low on gas. He thrust a takeaway cup of Dancia's favourite beverage into her hand. How did he know what to buy? A bit of observation, a bit of interest... "I know this great Thai place, just 10 minutes walk. I'll buy!" he added, confident and bristling with energy.

GM Newtorch station, Inner Oort Cloud, Sol System Second orbit, fifth day, April 15th, 7.30AM Earth time. A brilliant crystal lance sailed through the void, mighty donut-shaped rings spinning endlessly around the haft, housing the several hundred scientists, staff, and guards keeping safe the future of Lor technology. There they lived and worked in strict, regular shifts, coming and going, eating and sleeping to refresh their tireless dedication. A phalanx of ships patrolled far outside the sight of any being, searching unceasingly for any sign of an approaching threat. At the lance's tip was a white diamond, where the force field was strongest and the gunnery lines were thickest. The size of several battleships welded together, that was where the most dangerous part of the station's mission was kept. Newtorch station was one of several throughout the Republic, uncovering new ways to draw energy from the world and power the bustling interstellar civilization. They often ended up examining things strange and powerful enough that risking star systems was all too possible. Inevitably they ended up on the fringes of inhabited space, far from either help or victims. Thefts were possible too. But the sheer danger tended to keep everyone away. Except, of course, the daredevils. "Next shift incoming, sir!" called out the surveillance monitor "and none too soon!" "Just the facts, Bey." replied the station captain with a wry twist of his purple lips. Hands clasped behind his back, the stubby Lor watched the small, regularly spaced dots draw near and allowed himself a slight note of self-praise: nothing had happened that had endangered the crew, the only faulty source had been safely ejected and destroyed, and they had a marvelous new subject: the gem from Sirius. It could power an entire fleet if they could get the transferal right, and then... "Bey, how many ships are in that convoy?" The sudden edge in the officer's voice got a puzzled look, and a quick response "Eleven, sir. Usual number-" "That's one too few! Alert the ships, tell them there's an infiltrator!" 'Sri Steward of Earth, you have an incoming message.' Mentor's voice had all the warmth and wisdom that came from the unthinkable eons it had seen, but it was still as commanding as a drill sergeant, clear as ice and cut Kyle off from sleep like a knife. 'Blockade Fleet Admiral Kalf has urgent news, and a request. Your system is in great danger.'

9 AM May 1, 2014 Greenbank The giant gorilla pointed a huge pistol at the storekeeper, the gigantic weapon fitting into one oversize paw like a derringer in the hands of a human. "Your cesium! Where do you keep your cesium!? And other radioactive materials!?" "What?" It wasn't every day, even in Freedom City, that one was robbed by a half-dozen gorilla goons in armored military uniforms, each carrying some dreadful weapon that bespoke both super-science AND sinister purpose. They had simply burst in through the front window as if they'd appeared out of nowhere. "I don't know anything about that, we just sell imported electronics from-" "Sergeant! The smoke detectors!" One gruffly-voiced ape with a dark leather patch over his eye gestured. "All of them!" With that news, the apes moved quickly to ransack the store - Bob's Electronics, of everything in the smoke detector and fire safety section (just to be safe), even taking the store's own smoke detecting equipment.

Freedom City April 2014 The Crime Lab (Remote Site) Richard Cline was not one for advanced planning most of the time, but then again most of the time he wasn't going back to dinosaur times. "All right, the advance team has been on the island for almost a week, and they haven't run into anything larger than a Great Dane, so I think we'll be all right." He let one of the techs pop a USB into the computer's port (something he had deliberately notmastered), playing what looked like an iMovie recording of a mostly-deserted tropical island, complete with birds in the air and animals on the beach - until the viewer saw the teeth and scales on the feathered fliers overhead, or realized that those weren't dogs fighting over the washed-up fish on the beach. The island looked to be in the center of a small bay, with low hills and a river visible on the opposite coast a few miles away. "They're almost exactly at the site of Chicxulub, good good. We're lucky that island was there, the ultralights they sent out said it's all swampy marsh on the mainland." Fred Tanzin, the second unit director for Supercrime!, focused on the special guests. "We'll do some footage of you for the promos, either here in the studio once you come back or while you're in the field. We're still on for filming all the way from the 22nd through the 25th, local time. I know you've had a chance to read our briefing packet and be introduced to the on-air talent - but do you have any questions I can answer for you about the show?"

Wednesday, April 2nd 8:34 PM The night was peaceful. It had been a hard fight, but Spring was starting to break through in Freedom City. The air was warm enough to be on the faint side of pleasant, cool enough to be tolerable. Conditions like this made the ice sled a little harder to keep together, but Temperance was willing to accept such trade-offs. Liberty Park was usually fairly serene as heroic patrols went. Every so often, there might be an attempted mugging, but the park was usually well-lit and well-trafficked, especially at this hour. If you knew where to go, there wasn't much risk. But those were on normal nights. Lately, there'd been stories of wild animal sightings in the middle of the city - "large dogs" or "coyotes," in the initial reports. But her dad had heard different stirrings in the courts of spirits, upset from some of the primals because "those not of the pack" were in town. And, well, most New Jersey residents wouldn't really know how to tell a wolf from a coyote, would they? She hung over the park, waiting. A jogger had been attacked here a few nights ago. He survived, but was scratched up badly and was in the hospital for observation. She'd swung by, and found a heavier than usual police presence. Now, it was far from the full moon - just as it had been on the night he'd been attacked. But those in authority still felt the need to keep watch, even if they didn't feel the need to say why. After all, if you grew up in Freedom, nobody really had to say the W-word, did they? You saw weirder stuff all the time. So Temperance flew over the park, waiting for the sound of howling, and hoping that the night might stay peaceful.

GM The Gateway, the Nucleus, Goodman Building, 1961 40th. Avenue, Midtown, Freedom City, United States of America, North America, Earth, the Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Earth-Prime. 10.47 AM, March 17th, Monday, 2014. The silence had grown almost unbearable as Maximus and Tesla Atom prepared the circular arch placed on raised steps in the center of the starkly-lit room. Hands tapped out short commands on the aged yet ruthlessly advanced control panels on either side as power thrummed through the portal, a kaleidoscopic miasma of shifting colors and shapes revolving in the center as dimensional energies were harnessed for a journey to the uttermost depth of the omniverse. While the the older siblings did their work, Victoria and Chase watched the bulky readout monitors beside them, once or twice calling out a word that touched faintly the edges of the visiting teen's scientific knowledge. Cosmo had a job as well, the blue primate flashing from shoulder to shoulder as he searched carefully for errant insects suck in unwieldy human hair. The destination for the four young superheroines was felt long before it was seen. A prickling across the skin, a sense of rawness in the air and a growing sense of something horrible drawing nearer had gone on for agonizing minutes before- "Got it," Tesla Atom's voice rang out suddenly, a hint of satisfaction behind the steely words as she swept her hand across a quartet of buttons, green energy flowing from her fingers to keep the triggers down, "incoming door locked." she looked up, ponytail bouncing against her neck as she quickly checked on her brother "Max?" "Everything's fine, Tess. Outgoing door just locked, no problems." The older Atom answered with a momentary glance to her. Maximus briefly flickered and passed wraith-like through the panel, solidified enough to check an errant power cable, give it a cautious nudge, and then drifted back to his station with a a relieved smile. It soon vanished though, replaced by a deep frown. "Stand by, Terminus Tunnel opening...now!" And with that, the mouth opened. Air rushed through the Gateway, a deep howling that had begun as the last word fell rose to a deep thunder, and the room trembled as a roiling whirlpool of red and white gaped before the four heroines and four Atoms. Cosmo screamed and vanished in a flash of light to reappear trembling on a rafter, and for a moment nobody said anything more, until Chase stepped over to the visitors. Regarding them with his earnest, penetrating eyes, he said in a quiet voice that cut through the howling wind "We'll shut the outgoing door the moment we know you're through, but like we said earlier, just trigger the Passport," a small metal box sheathed in a faint yellow aura slid out of his pocket and floated over to Blue Jay, "and Max and Tess will reposition the passage to Sanctuary. We will transport you and anyone you can save out of the Terminus. I guess you'll want a 'good luck'. I wish you success." he gave a stiff nod and retreated to Tesla's station. Victoria gave the foursome an encouraging grin "Don't worry, Chase, it's not like they're racing in to beat up Shady Ironpants or anything, just a quick and quiet trip there, Tona grabs her people, they get back, yadda yadda, everything's gonna be fine." Reaching up to the ceiling with an elastic arm, she gently scratched the family Moon Monkey behind his ears "Sucks we're not coming with, I want to meet this 'Steam General' jerk and show him my new Atom Punch! But this is your gig, we'll stay put unless you need us." Miming a boxing motion she turned her legs into a stool and sat with Cosmo on her lap, stroking him gently from long practice. Tesla smiled a little "What Vicky said. Keep in touch, and good luck. I'm sorry we can't go with you. Could be there's someone we know trapped in there too." The maw of the Terminus Tunnel never ceased its seething, its flickering blood-bone colors giving the sere room an ugly feel.

Two weeks after the events of "Cry for Justice" All in all, the murder of Professor Parker Psion and the capture of his granddaughter had gone largely unnoticed by the Freedom City press. Even after the attempted break-out two weeks earlier, one that had seemingly targeted Frances Psion in particular, the media hadn't really gotten involved. A superhero had been mind-controlled by a suicidal elderly supervillain; an attempt to break out said supervillain's confederate had been foiled, and that, or so it seemed, was that. - "We moved her back into the psych ward after the incident with the Crime League two weeks ago," explained Captain Harold Schmitt as their monorail car rumbled along through the depths of Blackstone, the very mountain seeming to threaten to close in on her as they descended deeper and deeper beneath the sandstone. They weren't that far underground, not objectively, anyway. "Normally procedure is to put failed escapees down in maximum, but since she never actually left her cell, we got her back in the psych ward as soon as a bed opened up again. We haven't had any violent incidents since then - even though she's refused medication."

GM Meanwhile...below the Thames...in the Haven... The Haven was being tidied, swept, and cleaned. A small horde of tech staff, security forces, and agents were searching it with careful detail. Amongst them, Professor Blackpool, Osprey, and Dr Jasmine Benoit, otherwise known as Catalyst. And a new face, Captain Eileen Rose. She was a woman of average height, with short cropped blonde hair and a handsome face, marred by a scar down one side of her face. She had the body of a muscular snake, all coiled and energetic. Her military fatigues were littered with striped and awards. Captain Rose was simply one of the best the Military had. That was before the Osprey formula had been tried on her. Admittedly at much much lower doses. The only visible sign was the eyes. Black, black and wide. Avian eyes. Not much escaped those eyes, sharp as an eagles. Professor Blackpool had taken them to the Haven's medical laboratories. "This place is a gold mine" he explained. "The Haven had access to all of the Ministries research, including the Osprey formula. But here, here they did so much more! The Osprey formula is only the beginning! You see, its highly unstable..very risky...it can cause..." Captain Rose gave a glare at him with her inhuman eyes. "...yes, well. Its unstable. In essence, it can reset DNA, you see. Stabilise any mutations or deteriorations. Those poor souls that the Haven reactivated? those cyborgs? guess what...they had been stuffed full of the Osprey formula! With the Haven back on line, we may be able to perfect it!"

GM "So that's it" said Cruxberry. "The best lead we have. And I can't say I'm surprised that it was Lucy Diamond that showed up first. She never was very circumspect at the best of times". Cruxberry sat, whilst the impassive, muscular agent Smith stood with his usual jet black glasses, crisp black suit, and huge black briefcase, not moving a muscle. He didn't say a word. Smith never said a word, unless he needed too. It was in rural Wales, apparently. Some locals had seen sights. Of course, masses of people had seen sights. Champion flying overhead, Y Derwen planting himself in their back garden, on a glittering display of lights that could only be Lucy Diamond. But this was a lot more persuasive than the others. The descriptions were accurate. And actually frightening. A band of travellers, a wandering woman matching Lucy Diamond, and a wholescale panic. The whole travelling community went, for want of a better word, banana's. Attacking each other, arson, self injury. Two dead, seventeen severely injured. Utter mayhem. The file on Lucy Diamond spoke for itself. "Lucy was always powerful, but a loose cannon" explained Cruxberry. "Anyone touching her was infected with some kind of madness. And she was quite short of marbles herself. Combined that with the ability to turn into a form of organic diamond..." he whistled. "Osprey and Dr Benoit...I can see their potential but they haven't earned their stripes yet. Also, I need them for another matter" he explained to Young Brittania and Synapse. "So I would like you two to look into the sightings. Lucy Diamond is not a threat, at least not directly. We just want to find answers...." he drummed his fingers and looked at Synapse. "And there is a problem" he explained. "Lucy was completely immune to psionic effects. At least as far as Headcase was concerned. Somehow she shuts them down. Probably why Headcase was so paranoid about her. Although as you know, he was pretty paranoid about everything" he conceded. "Maybe you can get through to her, maybe you can't. But you can at least try to find out what happened, see if there is any truth to the stories. See if you cant stop anybody else going crazy with that splendid head of yours" he said to Synapse, passing her the file on Lucy.