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Friday, September 6th, 2013 Mara's Warehouse, Greenbank "....can't be right. Can't be." Mara Hallomen looked wide-eyed down at Puppy, her food forgotten in its bowl on the counter. The young woman had taken a rare day off from her job at HAX to work on some personal projects - one of the perks of being the boss - and had been idly sifting through some data while she sat in her kitchen getting a snack. Now, snack time was over; she suddenly had a lot of work to do, and no time to do it. A quick thought had her computer dialing one Ellie Espadas, as Mara started frantically digging through the racks and bins of parts in her warehouse. "Ellie? I...need your help. It...mmmh, capacitors capacitors capacitors...." She sounded stressed, which was normal, but also almost frantically concerned, which was not. "....there, yes. Sorry. Really really really need your help."

GM Wiltmoor hospital Just outside London September 1st "Just a second ma'am..ill buzz you through" said the nurse. He was dressed cleanly and causally, middle aged but fit, with a pleasant smile. "Your father is here already..." he explained kindly as he lead Lady Dawn Farrington through the clinical and friendly corridors of Wiltmoor hospital. It was expensive, to say the least. But it was money that showed in the high level of staffing, expertise of said staff, and architectural beauty and function of the building. It was actually fairly secure for a hospital, but it hid it well. The grounds were expansive, and green, and the fencing discrete. "Susan..she is doing ok, you know. She still has some days where she is bad, but on the whole, she is making progress. She is learning to talk about and cope with her problems" he smiled, encouragingly. Further into the bowels of the hospital, outside the ward Susan was in, stood her Father, in consultation with Doctor Felicity Green, her psychiatrist, and a tall, bulky man wearing regulation agency suit and carrying an enormous briefcase that carried God knows what inside. A weapon? a bomb? "AH there you ah, m'dear" said Lord Farrington, stiffly, trying to contain his irritation at his daughter's appearance behind a stiff upper lip. "This man, Mr. Smith.." he said indicating the suit "...has come from the Ministry. They ah...were just checking up on your Sister. And you, I understand..."

September 3, 2013 8:23 AM This morning found the sky over Freedom City overcast, with showers expected throughout the day and possibly thunder storms in the afternoon. Despite the cloud cover, the otherwise warm morning air was already very muggy due to the humidity. Nestled along the southeastern end of downtown Freedom City, the Fens were just as muggy as anywhere else. In the rather battered building that housed the Bloodhound Detective Agency, there was no reprieve from the humidity, as the building's air conditioning had once again decided to break down for the umpteenth time this summer. Harry was seated at his desk near the window, which was open in the hopes of getting a breeze. Freddy was seated on the sofa, watching the news, a fan blowing on him at the highest setting. Lucy was in the office she had recently moved into the humidity not bothering her in the slightest.

GM Deptford Docks, London August 31st, Near Midnight... The sky was not as dark as a costumed nocturnal crime fighter would have likes. The stars, and moon, where out in force. The summer heat was ablated somewhat but the Thames, swirling dark through London. The air was dry, and for many it would be a night of music and love. But not for Osprey. Smuggling in London was controlled by one man. The middleman. Who he was, nobody knew. Few even knew of his existence. But he had his finger in every pie. The gangs of London knew exactly who they had to go through to get 'product' in. Or, in some cases, out. And a major haul of drugs was coming in. The superdrug Max, by all accounts. On a small freighter docked in the pier, being unloaded by a gang of heavies. As Osprey looked on, he saw the five men being approached by two policemen, who started asking questions...

Grier Ave, Lincoln, Freedom City “I’m not sure I quite understand?†the young woman sat bouncing a her baby on her knee staring dumbfounded at a piece of paper Nicki Dee sat there patiently looking for all the world like the perfect business woman in her plain dress suit and practical suitcase sat by her feet. She patiently explained the offer she had made not moment’s before. “It seems the business you previously work for made an error in his benefit’s I’m here to offer you the balance of what is owed.†“Are you sure about that?â€

August 24th, 2013 10:03 AM Freedom City Tona Baudin was caught in the horns of a dilemma. "I want something that flows," she said, staring down at the magazine in her hands. "I want something that would billow and can present a larger target, you know?" She showed the magazine to Sam Vance, the girl sitting next to her on the rail car. "Like these ladies are wearing." The periodical wasn't what Tona usually read. Flight of Fashion chronicled fashion designs based off superhero costumes; most of the pieces had one or two dominant colors, and fit close to the body. The pages Tona was looking at were showing off tall, slim models wearing longcoats. Each was in the act of turning, the tails of their coats fanning out dramatically. "Something like that," she said, pointing at the coats. "That's what I want to find at the mall."

August 30th, 2013 Just after dinner Claremont Academy, Games Room Tona Baudin sat on the couch, huddled into herself, stealing looks at the women across the table from her. The young archer was wielding unfamiliar tools, weapons which she had never considered until today. She felt the stares of the other three young females, and glared daggers at the only thing left for her to choose. "I don't see why we can't both be ninjas," she said, for the third time. She looked at Sam Vance, who was already shuffling her two decks of cards. "We both like sneaking. Why can't we both be... sneaky people?" She looked at the cards already in her hand, the Pirate deck. She had chosen it mainly because the pictures looked a bit more real than on the other cards; and now she was staring at the Alien deck. She knew she had to have two decks, but the combination reminded her uneasily of her trip to Sanctuary. Tona's eyes shifted to Kristen and Jennifer, looking for support. She didn't really know the two other Claremont students very well, but apparently they were also dating, and Jennifer had a yen for board games. The idea of the four girls bonding over pieces of cardboard was evidently normal for this dimension, because Sam hadn't reacted oddly to the suggestion. Which was why Tona was here, feeling -- oddly enough -- quite at sea.

The Vanguard were the united kingdoms major superteam in the late twentieth century, forming slowly between 1970 and 1980. Much is known about them, from press cuttings and interviews. Of course, some information is more classified, and known only to those with access to the Ministry of Powers files on these exceptional individuals. What is not known is how and why they disappeared overnight...

Thursday, April 18, 2013 5:30 AM Claremont Academy, Bayview, Freedom City, NJ "And that was the last thing Warp remembers before passing out in her dorm room after teleporting back." Duncan Summers finished explaining, a hint of fatigue in his voice. The retired superhero turned educator was sitting in his recently rebuilt office at Claremont Academy, his prior office having been all but destroyed during the events of the Day of Wrath a few months earlier. "And how is Warp doing?" Came a dark voice speaking from within the shadows of a corner of Duncan’s office. The speaker was none other than his daughter, Callie Summers, the current Raven, and she was there in costume. Duncan had little doubt that his daughter had been up much of the night already, working on some case or another, but if she was feeling any fatigue from the early hour, she was doing a much better job of hiding it. "She is in the infirmary still, but doing well. Whatever was used to knock her out has left her considerably groggy, but there will be no lingering effects." Duncan replied. "And there is no sign of Tsunami, El Heraldo or Net Fly?" Raven then asked, though she knew well enough the answer. "No, none of them have returned to campus. Based on what I have learned, the fire department was called to a fire at the address Warp provided, but when they arrived there was no longer any active blaze, though evidence that there had been a fire. They currently have cordoned off the building, planning to further inspect it in a few hours when there is better light." "Good, then they likely have not contaminated the scene yet. I have a bit of time to get in there and look around before they do." Raven replied. "Don't worry, I will find them." The heroine then began moving towards one of the office's windows. "I have little doubt." Duncan replied, eyeing his daughter hesitantly. "But…are you certain you should investigate this alone? You know very well that he could be involved." Raven stopped a moment before the glanced back over at her father. "Yes, I am fully aware of that possibility. But this is my responsibility, I was the one that brought Giang here, knowing full well her family's background." And with that, the dark clad heroine was gone out the window, vanishing into the still dark morning sky. Still seated in his chair, Duncan stared out of the window to where his daughter had disappeared from view. While normally he had full confidence in her abilities and decisions, where Dr. Sin was possibly involved, he was a bit more concerned. Letting out a deep sigh, Duncan reached for the telephone at his desk and dialed a familiar number. "Alan, I am sorry about the early hour, but I need to speak with Ms. Pefr, Ms. Baudin and Mr. Crowe immediately."

Thursday, April 18, 2013 8:50 PM local time (5:50 AM, April 18, 2013 in Freedom City) Somewhere over the South Pacific GM The still night sky over the South Pacific was briefly disrupted by the sleek form of an advanced hypersonic transport as it streaked through the thin air at high altitude. Designed with stealth in mind, the transport was nearly impossible to detect by conventional mean, which allowed it to follow a rather direct route to its destination. Inside the aircraft’s main cabin, three rather unusual teenagers (two male, one female) had been bound to a set of jump seats set up in the middle of the cargo area. Each of the three had their arms bound together behind their backs by primary restraints affixed around their wrists and forearms. Additional restraints, crossing over their chests and arms, held them to their jump seats and helped to keep them upright, as all three were currently unconscious. Additional restraints bound their ankles together. All three of the teens were wearing costumes, which varied from rather subdued to quite colorful (at least in one case). Standing watch over the unconscious superteens were a group of men dressed in black and grey, gi like uniforms made of reinforced Kevlar material. Each wore a black tactical belt around their waists with a sidearm and a number of small pouches attached. All of the men were armed with what appeared to be some form of energy weapon, either immediately in hand, or very close by. All of the men were clearly of some Asian descent, thought to a more knowledgeable observe, it was apparent they hailed from a number of different countries. Six of the men were seated around the three teens, three to either side, their weapons cradled in their hands, ready to use should any of the teens awaken and show any sign of escaping their restraints. Another half dozen were seated towards the front of the aircraft, somewhat more relaxed, but with their weapons within easy reach. One of the men seated closest to the three teens was starting to feel himself wanting to drift to sleep, a feeling he fought, as he tried to focus on the teens, looking for any sign of movement beyond steadying breathing or a slight shift caused by turbulence or the like. But event that was beginning to feel monotonous, when he suddenly realized the three were appearing to stir. The realization brought him fully awake, as he focused on the movements, confirming his eyes had not been playing tricks on him. <"They are starting to wake!"> He stated in slightly accented Mandarin. The other five guards closest to the teens all sat up a bit straighter, many tightening their grips on their weapons as well. Over towards the front of the aircraft, the other six men also became more alert, focusing on the teens once more, a few picking up their weapons. One of the six glanced at a watch on his wrist, then looked back up towards the teens. <"It does not matter, we should be landing very soon.">

Central Puerto Rico, the northern side of El Yunque('the Anvil'), July 25th 2013 Subito had ended up going to Puerto Rico alone with his family. Cerys was busy, Serge doubly so, and the rest had either graduated or were hard at work preparing for it. That had turned out to be a considerable blessing for the muscular teen, as the sudden explosion of familial visits and reunions with laughing cousins was something he felt would have been hurt if he'd dragged someone else along for it. He, Galanta and Rodrigo had finally been allowed a day to wander the island before the celebratory meal, and the trio had quickly taken advantage of it and their maternal grandparent's closeness to the mountain to trek up its slopes. Subito was in his usual white shirt and jean shorts, and had found an excellent seat in a rock shelf partway up the northern face. He looked out at the island from that vantage point, quietly watching the slow sway of the trees stretching to the horizon, the movements of birds, the stealthy creeping of grounded animals and the distant glimmer of the sea. He felt a sudden, powerful connection to everything he sensed, and all the myriad of things built by humanity just out of sight. Here at last he could learn the truth. Steeling himself, he whispered 'Dama, I ask leave to enter your dominion and hear from your mouth what this knight means, and why you refused to explain. I will surpass any obstacles you place before me, and defeat any foe who stands against my quest My permission is granted, Herald. And you shall hear it and understand. Since you have already seen the bridge, the pool and the rest I will only say this: do not retreat. Be strong, I must not guide you once you enter.' Closing his eyes he willed the beating of his heart to a slower, stronger rythm, gradually attuning himself to the island. The books lent to the young paragon by the mages of Parkhurst had been amazingly helpful and complete, describing meditation techniques for mental and spiritual travel that could take you almost anywhere imaginable. Of course, he reflected, cracking an eye open and smiling, the books would have been useless without Mali's help teaching him how to meditate properly. Settling back into stillness and silence, arms laid on his crossed legs and hands turned upwards, he opened the inner eye and walked out of is body for the first time, drawing back an invisible curtain on the universe and passing through to the other side with a rush like being flung backwards by a deluge. Recovering himself, he stood up and looked around. The change was immediate. The world was watercolors now, the rock around him had gone from the uneven brown patterns of unending erosion to a solid mass of light gray stone, the air was abruptly motionless and filled with the smell of perseverance and hardihood, and the forests before him were transformed into an immense tangle of vivid greens and browns that perfectly hid what his senses told him was a riot of barking, shrilling and baying animals. The sky was overcast with golden clouds shaped like mighty birds of prey under a blazing sun. Below him on the green pastures stood two he knew at a glance depsite their filmy appearance: Galanta looked like a statue of steel, resembling an Athena he had seen pictures of; the other was a towering stereotypical Spanish knight in armor that glistened blue, the helmet shaped like a fishes' skull though Subito knew his cousin Rodrigo was inside. The reminder of his strange curse suddenly made the patriotic paragon's visit just a little more eerie, and Subito grappled with a momentary surge of guilt at just letting Claremont's veterans take care of him, and not finding a way to cure him in the months before. Around the ghostly pair ranged hundreds of sheep in armor of their own, grazing on the grass. They looked like if someone had heard that armor was supposed to be practical defensive wear, and decided that they were better than that. Every inch was intricately carved and sculpted in a different way, and the gold and silver used to make the figures gave the herds the impression of a large field covered by wandering metal barrels. Climbing down from his perch, Subito glanced up at the now literal iron anvil crowning the mountain and grinned despite himself. Sauntering northwards through the mysterious herd at the mountain's foot, he nodded politely to the massive ram with blood-dripping horns who seemed to be in charge, surveying the rest from a boulder. <"Don't suppose you can tell me anything"> he said aloud, scratching the sheep behind the ears fondly and starting when the ram butted his hand aside as it answered flatly <"I can. The caretaker of this island excepts you. Follow the path and do not stray"> without a backward glance he jumped down and vanished into the clanging mob. Staring after the animal, Subito turned away with a muttered <"Ooookay then, guess that's all I can expect from these weirdos"> glancing around he caught sight of a small dirt track leading away to the north through the forest. At the mouth of the woods yellow eyes glittered at him. Meeting the stares grimly, placed a hand over his heart and said crisply <"Dama, I ask that you not grant me your power while I am here. You pro'lly weren't gonna anyway, but still. I'll be with ya soon."> With a shake of his curly hair, he set his jaw, squared his shoulders and marched into the gloom, the forest blocking the light almost utterly as he was swallowed up.

Eve exhaled slowly, shoring up her resolve and willing the butterflies to leave her alone, at least for a few moments and risked a glance at the mirror. Outwardly she appeared calm and collected, but the young woman knew what to look for, and saw the faint mark of nervousness on her features. But worry was reasonable, even expected, as she was about to put into motion something she spent a long time planning. Brushing a hand through her snow white hair--longer than it had been in years, resting between her shoulder blades--Eve stepped from her car. She stood outside the Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship, though today she wasn't here for training; her jacket, blouse and knee-length skirt made for poor sword-fighting apparel. The worst that he can say is no, Eve thought to herself as she gathered her courage and entered.

GM Monday 12th August, 2013 Freedom City Airport..late morning... Agent Cord checked his watch, standing by the small single prop plane in the airport. UNISON was not the best resources agency in the world, or the States, but it could stretch to chartering the flight to Canada. Not that it would, by his estimation, be a particularly easy or comfortable ride. He was a man of slim and slightly short build, probably in his early forties, but still fit. He was a totally average black suit, a totally average white short, and a totally average black tie. His brown hair was cut short, and his features rather unremarkable. His eyes were hidden behind some mirror shades. In his left hand, an unremarkable suitcase. The observant would, perhaps, notice a small bulge in his left armpit. Agent Cord didn't really approved of using minors in UNISON's operations, but there was no doubt from the resume. The Blue Jay character had some particular skill sets they could use right now. Her history had embedded her with unparalleled tracking skills. A few other specialists in the world would come close, he judged, but they were both expensive to hire, and would not necessarily have Blue Jay's other skills. He wasn't expecting trouble, but on the other hand, he was paid to expect the unexpected.

GM Saturday 10th August Late Afternoon Starbase Coffee House... This particular Starbase Coffee House was just like all the others. Nothing made it stand out - and that's why it was a chain. One could not fault the service, the coffee, or the decor. But neither could one rant about it either. You knew what you were getting, nothing more, nothing less, despite bold advertising that would suggest otherwise. The coffee was good, but not out of this world. It's pleasant blandness served one man very well. Oscar "fingers" Ferson was old and, by his own admission, beaten with the ugly stick. That hadn't stopped him. He had a devilish smile, and a quick brain. He was cautious but clever, ambitious but not greedy. Illegal, but not immoral. Fingers fenced goods. He didn't touch drugs, he didn't touch killers. He just knew people who knew people, and new how to make plenty of contacts to "facilitate the flow of goods and money". Fingers had his fingers in many pies. Hence his name. Fingers nursed his coffee, a rich, creamy mug full of chocolate and marsh mellows. For all its abundance of calories, he looked painfully thin. He inspected his watch, and coughed violently into a napkin. He recovered, and folded the napkin neatly. He had called Kit. And he hoped she would turn up. Without police or handcuffs, ideally. She knew enough about him to cost him serious lawyer money. But then, he knew a thing or two about her, too.

April 4, 2013 Albany Subway Station Freedom City The deed was done and the heroes had returned triumphant, rescuing dozens of people from extra-dimensional enslavement in a world cast like a mockery of their own planet's grim past. The Freedom League was already working to strengthen the world's magical defenses with the help of magically inclined independent heroes; and the castaway from FLSCH that Caradoc had crossed dimensional boundaries to rescue was back home with his delighted lover. Steve had gone back to Gina, told the story of exactly what had happened to his Caradoc emitter, and promised to avoid deliberately standing under showers of molten steel "to prove some kind of ridiculous point". But the job wasn't done yet. It had been easy enough, once he borrowed Gina's computer, for Steve to look up something of Wail's history - the veteran hero who had fought alongside others in the Terminus invasion of 1993. That had been the greatest crisis in the history of this world, the public face of the horror of it all still burned into the minds of many of the Freedomians who had fought in it, lived through it, seen others die in it. Would such a man really be interested in talking with him? Steve had already been shamed enough by the open hands and welcomes of so many heroes. Sitting alone in the subway station, his brown skin and scarred face keeping away most of the passersby, Steve was comfortable in his solitude. Fortunately, it didn't have to last forever.

August 15, 2013 The messages arrived in different ways for different heroes - Cannonade and Wander had theirs delivered to one of the anonymous tip drop boxes the Liberty League used to collect correspondance, Wail had his delivered by standard mail to Keith LaMarr's home address, while Willow's came via a scanned copy emailed directly to Vince. They were instantly recognizable as odd - the envelopes weren't paper but vellum, some sort of processed animal skin, and the stamps affixed to them were wildly overpaid, as if someone had bought a chunk of postage and slapped it on an envelope without knowing how the value of postage actually worked. Inside the envelopes lay a simple message written in thick, heavy block printing - again on vellum, albeit by something that looked more like a pencil. HELLO YOU ARE INVITED TO THE ADULTED HOOD CELEBRATION OF RUNS-WITH-FANGS-BARED. PLEASE COME TO BATSTO VISITOR CENTER AT SUNSET TOMORROW IF YOU WANT TO COME. WITNESS MIGHTS OF WITH-FANGS-BARED CLAN AND RAPTOR EMPIRE. A quick trip to Google found the Batsto Vistor Center easily enough; a historic "living history" village deep in the heart of the Wharton State Forest. Heroes who remember the encounter with emissaries of the Raptor Empire will recall Runs-With-Fangs-Bared, the teenage daughter of the raptor commander who learned a lesson about not calling humans apes all the time.

September 1, 2013 Typhoon City (formerly Qalansiyah), Free Kingdom of Socotra From the perspective of Freedom City, anyway, it started small. A freak storm in the northwestern Indian Ocean, lashing coasts as far as the Arabian Peninsula and the Horn of Africa. A sudden media blackout on the island-nation of Socotra; with even its ample (and often illegal) Internet going dark. Socotra was on the radar of only a few people in the city with its lord and master gone largely into retirement, and a brief blackout was an occasion for concern, but not alarm. Of course, some people had closer ties to the Socotran royal family than others. Standing on the roof of the royal palace of Typhoon, on its best days a magnificent palace of Arabian and Indian styles, surrounded by ever-flowing fountains of fresh water that were among the tallest such in the world, Mark Lucas stared at what lay in Qalansiyah harbor, and beyond it, and for one of the few times in his life honestly had no idea what to say. He took the hand of his girlfriend Nina al-Darsah, princess-turned-college-student, and when he made eye contact and saw the fear she would never, ever, ever admit to having, he said the only thing that made sense. "I'm going to call for help." "Well...I suppose," said Nina, putting her arm around him, the shadows in which they both stood casting her dark face into gloom. "Normally this is something the royal family would handle amongst ourselves, of course, but this, yes, this is something that your friends could help with." She hugged him, stepped aside so he could disappear without her, because what princess would leave her kingdom in a time line this? and said "Hurry." With a nod, Mark's costume flashed up around him before he vanised himself - reappearing in the main foyer of the famous Midnight Manor! "Trevor, Erin!" he called out loud as his shoes creaked on hardwood floors. He'd been gone just half a day, but what a day it had been! "I need your help with something! Something...big!" He had to laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Ah there you are. Devil to find. Pleasure to see!" No matter how long he stayed in Freedom City, Lord Steam continued to dress like the most outlandish fop. And somehow just pulled it off. He got stares wherever he went, and was quite happy to sign photographs. He passed himself off as a British Detective and Aristocrat who fancied a life in Freedom City. His role as inter-dimensional diplomat was less well known. It was easy enough to contact Carrie aka Silhouette. Her Medal of Valour doubled up as a radio receiver for Steam, and his home dimension to contact her, and as fate would have it, pay her well for her services as their best freelance agent. The Summer was hot, hot, but Lord Steam had merely rolled up his starched shirt and kept his top hat on to field the rays of the sun. It was Freedom City Park and he had arranged to meet Earth Victoriana's number one agent there.

Between Freedom City University and various technology companies, the North End was well populated with coffee shops, cafes and bistros suited for relaxing between projects or last minute crunch time before a deadline. Few of them were strangers to eccentric clientele or outlandish fashions but the pair who had commandeered a table on the patio of the Hasbean Cafe surely pushed the limits. "How long dost thou intend to sit here?" Sekhmet sighed, eyelids barely open as she stretched under the summer sun with one toned arm resting behind her asymmetrical haircut. Wariness of her companion only just outweighed the goddess' urge to doze off, a feline instinct made more insistent in a form that actually required sleep. The smaller figure across from her was in no danger of sleep as he drummed the fingers of one hand rapidly along the table with tapping away at his smartphone with the other. "Why would we leave!" Set exclaimed, bouncing enough in his seat to tip his stylish sunglasses upward briefly and jostle his brick red dreadlocks. "Such delightful establishments are the very home of coolness, Sekhmet! We must soak up its trendy essence!" He punctuated the claim with an animated gesture at the rest of the patrons on the patio, most of whom were studiously focusing their attention on laptops and coffee cups. "Do you realize their wireless internets are entirely complementary?! Such an era of prosperous excess! And these charmingly tiny espresso beverages! Magnificent! You must try one, I've had three!"

Earth-I-War-4 March 1, 1983 (Local Time) 0y 0d 0h 0m 0s Post-Arrival It should have been a quiet Thursday, or at least relatively so. Certainly on Earth-Prime, it was. This is not Earth-Prime. So when a >rip in space-time manifests a few hundred feet above the ground over a corner of the field here in western France. No one even takes note of the over-sized young man who emerges and is, somehow, flying directly at the ground at barely sub-sonic speeds. He only just stops himself before striking the ground, ending up in a crouch as he looked around, nervously adjusting the backpack and shoulder bag he bore. Looking behind him, he just saw trees. "Man, where did I end up? I'll have to...call...the..." His words trail off as he turns back in front of himself and he takes in the sight before him. A plain stretched out before him for miles. Large hills sat beyond the trees at his back. But while it was nominally beautiful, the unfamiliar vista wasn't what caught his attention. It was the battle. Specifically, the one being waged in the air and on the ground. Tanks rolled across the ground, nearly as advanced as anything one saw in the news of the day. Fire flew from their barrels, and vehicles on both sides erupted in flames. Solders dashed to and fro, firing from cover. None of that compared to the really weird stuff. On one side, clad in black uniforms that amounted to robust skin-suits, men and women suddenly and violently shifted into lupine man-beasts, howling in unison before charging in a line of fur, claws, and fury. Overhead, more remarkable people flew in crisp formation, moving through the air as easily as...as Quo-Dis, he realized. They even had that same faint glow to their bodies. Opposing them was a group a bit less uniform. Several were dressed as superheroes. Some he didn't recognize. The man dressed like an Ancient Egyptian and wielding a glowing hammer was probably Horus the Avenger, though. And boy, did they hold the line! Blasts of energy drew the...well, for lack of a better term, the super-men and -women down to the ground just as the lycanthropes struck the line of heroes. There was just enough confusion to leave them disoriented, which clearly helped the group with Horus. Considering the Iron Crosses on the black or grey vehicles he could see...they were probably Nazis. Which made the others...the Allies, he supposed. It wasn't Erde, but- "Nazis. Why did it have to be Nazis?" He couldn't help but smile at his own private joke for a moment...before the smile faded. Those heroes seemed like they were barely holding on, and any normal Allied soldiers who got too close were...not long for the world. "​I...I have to help. Damn. Not what I planned, but I'm sure if Horus is kicking around, so is Daedalus. I bet I'll be home in a week or less." With that cheery thought, Corbin took his bags, conjured a blue box of energy around them, and buried it next to a tree. Giving one last glance around, he blinked, and was suddenly Cobalt Templar. When asked later what had happened, most Allied soldiers would say they still weren't entirely sure, except that a streak of blue light cut across the air for a moment, and a half-dozen Nazi tanks were missing gun barrels. Meanwhile, the biggest werewolf on the field had knocked Horus back, and was raising both clawed hands in a gesture that would likely leave the deific champion wounded, if not worse. But instead of a flare of pain, the dazed paragon was treated to a flash of blue light and the smell of burned dog hair as the Alpha was sent flying by a burst of the blue flame that was the signature of Cobalt Templar. The young hero stood in the place of the werewolf, facing the rest of the pack as he held a great burning sword of fire in his hands. "Who wants some?"

GM Port Regal, Freedom City Thursday, July 4, 2013 7:00 PM There was a time when Port Regal was one of Freedom City's most affluent districts. But over the last few decades, that affluence had declined somewhat. But while many of its mansions and Victorian-era homes had been turned into bed-and-breakfasts or as part of other business ventures, the district still retained some of the trappings of its former glory. One such example was the Silver Glen Country Club. Almost a hundred year olds, the exclusive Silver Glen Country Club was originally designed by the well renowned gold course architect, A. W. Tillinghast. Situated on the northern tip of the western peninsula that jutted out into the Centery Narrows, the country club had a magnificent view of downtown Freedom City and the harbor, as well as the Narrows itself and its northern shore. As such, it had a long history of hosting a Fourth of July party for Freedom City's high society. This Fourth of July was no exception. Located along the western shore of the peninsula, clubhouse was decorated with red, white and blue steamers and other decorations. In addition to its large decks and patio areas, the large gardens located next to the clubhouse now had catering tables set up among its well manicured hedges and flower beds, in addition to a makeshift dance floor in the courtyard surrounding a circular fountain. There was already a good sized crowd of some of Freedom City's wealthiest and most influential, with more arriving by the minute in the parade of sports cars, high-end luxury cars and limousines that were arriving at the front of the clubhouse.

Liberty Park, Sunset Lake lakeside path, Freedom City, July 4th, Wednesday 11.45 AM "So, seein' as we're pro'lly goin' back to 'Rico on the 21st, this is their last big chance to meet ya!" Subito explained cheerily to Cerys, comfortably walking down the shady yet heated path with an arm around her waist and his hand on her hip. The teen paragon positively glowed with health and excitement, wearing his usual white t-shirt and shorts, both emblazoned with the American and Puerto Rican flags, a baseball cap overtop his curly hair with the same colors completing the patriotic ensemble. Pausing for a moment, he looked fully at her and smiled fondly, kissing her on the cheek "Thanks Blodeu. For sayin' yes, I mean. I was gonna ask you to come over to meet my family, but...well..." he shrugged helplessly and looked away, the memory of the brief but harrowing capture and imprisonment bubbling up. With a jolt he shook off the gloom, grinned at Cerys and resumed their brisk walk. By now the lake was visible through the mouth of the trees, like a rippling field of jewels dotted by rowboats and sailing boats, even a few professional rowers practicing on the dancing water. On the grass a large group of Hispanics was busy setting up a picnic spread. Subito took a breath to shout a greeting, only for one of them, an especially tall and very strongly-built young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Subito, caught sight of the pair leaving the trees and bellowed out happily "HEY THERE, 'BITO! GET OVER HERE AND HELP!" Closing his mouth with a *click*, the young man blushed crimson and muttered "They called me that when I was a kid. A lot. They didn't do it any more until last year, when Serge and Vic came over to visit. Now they do it all the time." He rolled his eyes, then caught hers and the irritation vanished. "We're gonna have a picnic, go to Hero's Knoll, we're gonna see everything! it'll be AWESOME!"

The Tyrrhenian Sea subdivision of the Mediterranean Sea, June 24, 2013 Giang Trang sliced through the clear blue waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Graceful and poised on land, the Asian teen was perhaps even more so underwater, seamlessly banking and turning as she swam amid a small school of giant devil rays. Reaching wing spans of up to seventeen feet across, the large rays were impressively graceful swimmers, and truly majestic to behold. The last couple of weeks had been an incredible experience for Giang. Her friend and roommate at Claremont Academy, Thaelia, had invited the Asian teen to spend part of the summer break visiting in Atlantis. So Giang had been a guest of the Atlantean royal family, of which Thaelia was a member, allowing her to see the wonders of the legendary city and continent located in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. After spending two weeks in the Atlantic, Thaelia had brought Giang to visit the Atlantean outpost of Crantorium, which was located in the depths of the Tyrrhenian Sea, a section of the Mediterranean Sea generally bound by Corsica, Sardinia, Sicily and most of the western coast of the Italian peninsula. Crantorium's shallower depth, and relative proximity to even shallower waters near the various islands and Italy, made the outpost something of a resort location for Atlanteans. In addition to the marvelous sights and experiences the trip had provided, it also provided Giang with the ability to relax more than usual, as it was highly unlikely that either her father or any of Dr. Sin's other lieutenants would be able to locate her among the Atlanteans. The somewhat more carefree attitude she was feeling was rather evident as she swam alongside the school of devil rays. Banking slightly as the school veered around a large rocky outcropping, Giang looked back over one shoulder to ensure that Thaelia was still alongside, though the Asian teen had little doubt, as the Atlantean was an equally powerful swimmer.

GM July 6th, 2013 Pyramid Plaza, Freedom City 7:42 AM Pyramid Plaza was crowded with runners, volunteers, and on-lookers as the last touches were put on the day’s big event. The red-white-and-blue arch straddling Wading Way was already up, with gold and blue balloons tethered to it and ready to fly off. Volunteers were standing behind folding tables, signing in the last few attendees, while other runners stood in close knots or began stretching in preparation of the day’s activities. Off to one side, a line of news vans were lined up, and several reporters were shooting second or third takes for the morning news. One reporter, however, was preparing for a live broadcast. Melissa Zhong checked her appearance in a hand mirror one last time, made sure her audio lead was invisible and her microphone was working, and took her position in front of the camera. “Ten second, ‘Liz,†the cameraman said. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…†On cue the light went on and the reporter’s face broke into a pleasant, sunny smile. “Good morning, Freedom City,†she said. “This is Melissa Zhong, with Channel Four news in the morning, reporting live from Pyramid Plaza!†She walked and the cameraman rotated, swinging the view from the Channel Four van to the base triple towers, an icon of the city’s skyline. Right now though the view was crowded with people, and Melissa indicated the crowds with a sweep of her arm. “Hundreds have come out for today’s run, the 41st Annual Independence Day Charity Marathon. Almost every corporation in the city, from Dawes Tech to Martel Industries to Majestic Industries, has sponsored at least one group running here today.†The reporter plunged into the crowd and the cameraman followed. They quickly zeroed in on one young red-blonde woman, as she stretched and checked a device hanging from her neck. “Speaking of which, here’s Jessica Parker herself! Ms. Parker, who are you running for today?â€

Chipping In, or, I Know a Guy who Knows a Prince June 1st, Saturday, 11.13 AM, 2013. Southside, Jordan International Airport, nearby Gate 8 The sun beat down happily on a panting Freedom City, the inhabitants of the most super city in the world going about their lives with a renewed vigor as summer seemed to send a jolt through every heart. Even the normally frantically dull airport terminals thrummed with energy, none of the usual lethargy to be found anywhere in the glossy gold terminals or the shining blue stores. For Elias Silvestri and Cerys Pfer, the two students of Claremont Academy sent with Tony Pao, a member of the junior staff there to welcome a new arrival, it was mostly unseen. The airport employees rushing by with baggage carts did seem to be whistling more than normal, however. The trio were standing just off the airstip, watching as the silvery glint of an oncoming plane came roaring into view. "Almost ten minutes early, good going..." murmured Tony to himself, the Laotion-American smiling in relief as the small plane, emblazoned on its tail and hull with the white and red symbol of a white lion, announcing it as a craft from the mysterious and powerful African nation of Dakana. Leading the way over as the airport technicians moved the standalone staircase up against the door of the plane, Tony resumed his earlier explanation at an even, rapid clip: "Aidah Sesay's light powers only recently developed, but from what Dakana's scientists can determine they seem to be some kind of natural mutation. King M'Balla wants her to get a good education on her powers, and asked the Freedom League to set her up here for couple of years. She's grown up surrounded by people who deeply admire her family and gave her the same deference, so...keep a level head. Be nice" he added with a concerned look. With a metallic rattle the stairs clicked into place, the door slid open and a small troupe of Dakanans marched out, seemingly unfazed by the American noonday sun in summertime and dressed to the nines in their nation's finery, mostly neat and colorful robes marked with intricate geometric symbols, their shoulders bearing the royal seal and slim jewelry around their necks. All of them carried themselves with stately dignity, politely thanking the airport technicians as they passed down the steps. Their leader, a grave-faced woman with graying hair, nodded and smiled at the two students before turning to Tony, shaking his hand and beginning "Hello Mr. Pao, thank you for arranging to meet us at such short notice." "Oh, it wasn't any trouble Mz. Okoro. On behalf of Claremont Academy, allow me to welcome you to Freedom City!" the former diplomat said cheerily, beaming at the reserved band "Is Ms. Sesay-" "HELLLLOOOOOOO FREEDOOOOOOM!" resounded a gleeful shout from the plane, announcing the emergence of a slender teenaged Dakanan girl dressed in much less subdued colors than the rest, wearing a large blue flowered hat over a beehive hairdo and sunglasses that looked slightly more expensive than what Cerys and Elias were wearing put together. Leaping onto the railing with a click of her high-heeled sandals she slid down it, leaping off just in time to land with a flair next to the two Claremonters. "Your new goddess has arrived, and brought the sun with her!" Lowering her sunglasses a little she raised an immaculate eyebrow as she looked the odd duo up and down. "And you two are...?" she asked with a barely-concealed smirk "Aidah! Behave, we are guests and each represent the nation." the older woman said crisply, getting a flinch and resentful look from the young woman, who nonetheless nodded, turned back and sulkily offered her impeccable hand "Greetings to you from the Land of the White Lion, I'm Aidah Sesay, I believe you are to be my schoolmates?" her voice was a little more heavily accented than that of the older Dakanans, and unlike the rest her robe reached only to her knees while her arms were bare.