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It took some doing, but if there was a student unaware of the end of the year party at the new AEON building, it wasn't for lack of trying. Now, while some students had... concerns over Alex being the entire decorating committee, when they arrived at the large ballroom near the top of the luxury building, those doubters were pleasantly surprised. The entire room was decked out in creams and dark blues, gold serving as the accent. It was both a nod to the school colors and an elegant color scheme for the high quality linens. There was a dance floor, of course, and a dj set up in the corner along with a small stage. In another corner, a photographer was set up to do professional photos. It was staffed with AEON personnell who had been gently coached to look the other way at any sudden displays of power. Alex had been over seeing the set up for much of the day, but she did vanish to her office to change and reappear shortly before the doors were scheduled to open. As tasteful as the ballroom was, it was no surprise that Alex was a bright spot of color in a dress that started in a butter yellow color at the neckline and slowly deepened to a deep red at the fluttering hem around her ankles. She was standing in the center of the dancefloor, looking up at the net of balloons attached to the vaulted ceiling, making certain that it wouldn't drop away early.
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Date: June 2010 The monthly Interceptors meeting had gone well enough, for all that no one on the team cared overmuch about the business side of things. What really mattered was that their financing was going well, their publicity was at an all-time high, and in the wake of the Grue invasion, things were going very well indeed for the defenders of West Freedom. Avenger had been bored through most of it, though he'd missed a couple of minutes to slip away and take calls from Phantom from that other dimension. Getting her and Jack Jr. out of the house but for their daily visits had been the right safety precaution after Dracula's attack, but it had given him free time: perhaps too much free time. You know what they say about idle hands... When he'd approached Dr. Archeville about testing the brownstone's security for him, he'd originally only planned to stay a couple of hours, but truthfully the sheer excitement of the moment had kept him around longer than he'd intended. It beat looking at a barely-used nursery. Wonder if that means he'll pay me more...or _less_? Truthfully, maybe lurking around the Casa del Interceptor for a whole day and a night had been a little unethical. For Avenger, at least, it was really hard to sort out what was and what wasn't the right thing to do when it came to matters of privacy and watching people at night while they slept. He decided to split the difference and just let them know. Don't need to tell them who I'm working for, I guess. Appearing in one of the empty seats at the table just as the meeting was wrapping up, Avenger waved. "Evening. Just popped in to let you know you need to fix your security systems. I'd recommend something that can monitor air movements."
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After the near disastrous encounter with Darkstar and Stesha Jack moved through the void for a short time to figure out where to look next. First thing he had to find out was exactly when it was. Luckily he had a good disguise that few to none would question shaking down informants for the 'word on the street'. Thus he stepped out of the void on the roof of a small apartment complex on the Westside of freedom looking for a likely target. His earlier encounter and relative inexperience with field work left him not putting his all into hiding but he cut an imposing figure where he lurked on the roof.
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Stepping smoothly out of the Pitchoo and onto the Claremont campus, Trevor was struck both by the genius of the airship's design and the absurdity of its aesthetics. At some point he was going to have to get Chris to introduce him to the craft's engineer, but for the time being, the brightly clad teenager seemed to be in a singular hurry, taking off again as soon as his passengers had disembarked. As the speck of green disappeared into the distance, Trevor regarded Eve out of the corner of his eye. --I believe we had a deal,-- he mentally sent to the telepath, the texture of his thoughts mild but steady.
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Once upon a time, before the end of the world, Erin White had been a much girlier girl. She'd had fun at sleepovers with her friends, giving and receiving makeovers and talking about boys. If everything hadn't gone careening off the rails, she would've gotten professional instructions from the Avon rep that Kathy's mom had booked for her birthday party, but even so, Erin could put on makeup without looking like a fool. But that had been in another lifetime, and she just didn't anymore. For a long time, there was absolutely no point in it, between one thing and another, and then, when she'd been released from quarantine and gotten used to being around girls who cared about their appearances, she had no money for that kind of thing. It was easier to pretend not to care and just make sure to keep her skin clean and avoid zits. Now, though, she had a job, sort of, and a scarily amazing dress, and she was going to a fancier party than anything she'd ever been invited to before. If there was ever a time, it was now. She wished Alex was around to help, but at the same time, doing it on her own protected her ego when she scoured clearance racks and tested what sort of products worked on super-resilient skin and hair. The curling iron and hair doo-dads she could borrow, at least. With Oliver watching encouragingly from the counter, she co-opted one of the girls' bathrooms on the day of the dance and spent literally most of the afternoon getting ready. Training and homework be damned, just this once. Maybe she had no chance of fitting in, but she wanted to at least look the part. All in all, she thought she did a fairly good job. After experimenting and deciding that she couldn't put her super-straight hair up in any sort of complicated arrangement by herself, she let it go and just curled the tendrils near her face, holding the rest back with a couple of sparkly rhinestone combs. The makeup was understated, it had to be with her pale skin, but it set off her lips and made her eyes look bigger and darker. She'd borrowed the shoes, too, strappy red heels that added inches to her height and a sway to her walk that she'd had to practice with a little. The dress, however, was doing most of the heavy lifting in the ensemble. Despite her concerns, Frank had done an amazing job on it, creating a calf-length showpiece in deep red charmeuse that clung as much as her costume did but somehow made her look a whole lot more feminine. He'd gone with a little more cleavage than she'd hoped, but not as much as she'd feared, so she figured they could call it even, since he'd also included the matching shorts and slit the skirt enough to let her work if she had to. Frank obviously knew his customers. The earrings and the necklace she'd found were rhinestones too, and people would probably notice at a shindig like this, but there was no help for that. They looked pretty. Oliver purred his approval as she looked at herself in front of the mirror one more time, getting up and stretching after his long stint playing moral support. "Wish me luck," she told him with a crooked smile. "I think I might be better off going into a war zone than doing this. But it'll be an adventure." Tucking her bat and her wallet into the little matching evening bag, she headed out to the common room to wait for Trevor.
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There was a little bit of a ruckus going on in a small corner of the West End. AEON, the company that Alex had founded, made a living off of buying failing companies and turning them back around. When you looked at the big picture, it kept the economy in the city and re-infused small business with the sudden influx of cash they needed to stay afloat. Sometimes, however, people took exception to the idea of a big cooperation buying out the 'little guy'. They were even less predisposed to like it when the whispers of 'freak Terminus baby' started up. Alex had gone out to take a look at one of the small business that the company was considering making an offering for. A few angry words and suddenly Alex found herself surrounded with the start of a small mob. It would have been child's play for her to take over their thoughts and direct them safely elsewhere but it wouldn't have done a great deal to convince them that she wasn't a threat once they realized they'd been emotionally manipulated. So instead she was sitting patiently inside the slightly sparkly construct of a force bubble, watching it be pelted with produce. Calling for help was out of the question as her friends would just be angry. Alex wasn't angry. Just sad as she watched a head of lettuce spatter harmlessly against the outside of the force bubble and wondered how long it would take for them to wind down.
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Date: June 2010 A few days before Avenger returned to the Interceptors' brownstone, the telephone rang at the Espadas apartment during one of those times Erik was there. Ellie picked it up and after a short, "Yes, he's here. May I say who's calling please?" exchange, handed the phone to her brother with an eyeroll. "For you." The voice on the other end was warm, friendly, and very familiar. "Hey, Erik. It's Jack. Taylor and I wanted to meet with you and make sure we had the ground rules in place for the game over the weekend. Are you busy now, or should we get together another time?"
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January 13th, 2010 8:03 pm (Continued from Interceptors: Liquid Therapy) Morena Colby was banging around her small kitchen, chopping up veggies and mixing up a batch of her famous spinich dip; away from work, she was barely recognizable in baggy cargo pants and a faded Phish tour shirt, her shoulder-length hair in a simple blue headband. She finished the dip, took a swig from her Corona, then yelled back over her shoulder into living room, where a TV blasted loudly. "Ma, I'm gonna have some people coming over, so I'm gonna be downstairs! I set the TiVo up to record Top Model!" There was no response, so she headed down into the basement, carrying the tray of snacks downstairs with her beer clutched in her free fingers. Her father had alwasy wanted to finish the basement, but he was killed before he ever had the chance. There was a full bar and half the walls were panelled, but then the panelling just stopped. It made her a little sad whenever she came down here, but it also reminded her of how important her work was for the force. Colby set the tray on the bar, hopped up on a stool and nursed her beer, waiting for her guests to arrive... Still wearing her civvy clothes, Lynn gave the house a quick once-over from across the street in the shadows: decent-sized, maybe a three-flat, on a quiet street in a working class neighborhood. "Okay, there is is; she said to head to the back door and ring the bell." She turned expectantly to her fellow teammates.
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The skies above Freedom roiled with dark grey clouds, distant thunder rumbling ominously. As the city's residents listened below, the booming grew louder and more distinct, and flashes of light appeared just above the stormy curtain. Suddenly, a sleek form burst through the clouds, the roar of engines and the ozone smell of heavy laser fire filtering down to the city streets. Long and narrow, with broad fins jutting from the rear at ninety degree angles, the gleaming vessel was soon joined by a second craft, made of darker materials and bristling with weapons. The pursuing spaceship fired, white-blue light arcing out from multiple points to strike the smaller ship. It shuddered, electricity surging across its surface, then began to plummet with dangerous speed. The ground shook as it crash landed just outside of Parkside, near Lantern Hill. It’s attack followed, hovering above its victim.
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Date: 10 May 2010 Eve stared out the darkly tinted windows at the main entrance to Claremont Academy, lost in thought, stomach knotted with emotion [Anxiety/Curiosity]. A week ago she was still home in Orléans, France packing for her transatlantic flight. Less than a week ago her brother Nicholas introduced her to a man named Duncan Summers. And now she was here. “Eve?†Eve frowned a moment, the sound of her name jarring her thoughts back to the present. “Eve?†She turned away from the window and glanced at the man sitting across from her. Blond hair, green eyes and an easy smile, Nicholas Martel was the brother she barely knew and yet she could see faint hint of concern etched on his face. --Yes Nick?— “You’re worrying again. Just relax, everything will be fine. Besides, Faith is here so you shouldn’t have any problems meeting people.†Nicholas’s words had the effect he was looking for as he felt the anxiety fade from Eve until only the sense of curiosity remained, which soon vanished as well as she brought her emotion under control. Nick smiled, and tapped a knuckle against the window glass, “Off you go, then. I’ll send someone by later with the rest of your clothing.†Eve sighed and stepped out of the car as her door was opened by the driver. Turning back to glance at her brother, she smiled. --Thank you for coming, Nick.— “Of course. Oh, tell Faith that dinner Sunday will be at my place, will you?†Eve nodded at Nicholas while accepting her bag that the driver retrieved from the trunk of the car. She smiled at the driver and inclined her head before settling the bag over her shoulder and striding off toward the Academy. She didn’t look back.
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********** FIGHT 5 ********** It was time for the lightning round to commence. The up and coming speedster was set to take on his idol, who had actually been covertly keeping tabs on. Maybe Dynamo would join the Interceptors one day. But for now, Jack of All Blades and Dynamo would meet in the ring, a complete clash of characters was about to take place. Both liked to chew the scenery, but have vastly different methodologies. It was likely to be an intense fight.
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Chris had gone to the fledgling HQ he and Liz were constructing, just to make sure she was OK. But now it was evening, there were things he wanted to find out. Landing the Pitchoo in the Claremont grounds, he wandered out in his jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the Raven logo. He headed towards Duncan Summers' office, hoping that he was in. This is... going to be an odd conversation. But I need to get some questions answered, or I'll be kicking myself. Cautiously, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. "Sir, are you in there?"
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And then the kids were elsewhere. They were gone from the false reflection of Freedom Hall, standing instead on the lawn of the Lucas family house, standing among the rubble of the battlefield that had killed Mark just a few hours earlier. Except he was alive, standing there amid the group of teens, and Rick and a shell-shocked looking Martha were standing there just a few yards away. "Dad!" Mark broke from the crowd and ran to his father, just as Martha called her husband's name and ran to him. But even as they did so, the teens saw the black, inky shapes beginning to break away from Rick, flaring up into invisibility like rising soap bubbles as they left his body to flare upwards and vanish in the sky. "I'm sorry, I can't stay," he was apologizing over his family's pleas, arms around Mark and Martha both as he slowly, inexorably vanished elsewhere, some place beyond even James's dimensional vision. "The universe can't survive two reality warpers, not and let humanity keep its freedoms." He hugged Martha. "I'll see you again soon. I promise. I love you so much, heart of my heart..." He hugged Mark, his body now so thin as to be translucent. "I love you, Mark." He pulled back, on the edge of vanishing. "You've always been my hero, Mark! Always!" And with that, with a single, devastated cry from Mark's mother as she collapsed into her son's arms, Rick Lucas was gone.
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Flashes of ionic energy propelled the young heroes to an all-too-familiar place; the spots on the sidewalk where they'd watched Mark Lucas die just a few hours earlier. If time itself hadn't changed, that is. The Lucas house was a quiet, peaceful place in an idyllic neighborhood, just as it had always been in the real world for the heroes who'd visited there. An unfamiliar old man, looking as old as Trevor's grandfather in the real world, clad in a sweater-vest and bow-tie was trimming the hedges of the house next door, humming an amiable tune as he worked. There was no sign of the horrific events that had happened in this place earlier today, but of all the places in Freedom City, why would there be?
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Erin fidgeted as she waited outside by the garage for Trevor, wondering once again if this was a good idea. Agreeing to go to the dance with him had been an impulse, curiosity mixed with bravado and, she had to admit, the small thrill of being asked out at all. Trevor was fun to spend time with, and she was willing to bet he cleaned up really well. She hadn't really considered all that would be involved in cleaning herself up until it had been too late to back out without looking silly. And she did appreciate that he was going to help her not make a fool of herself, really. But a fitting at an actual tailor? Erin hadn't actually known there were such things. When she heard tailor, she tended to think of fairy tale folks who killed seven flies in one blow or something like that. She knew about designers, obviously, but the way Trevor talked, this wasn't quite the same. She wondered what she was getting herself into.
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So this is Claremont. Thought Aiko as she looked at the turn of the last century style buildings. This is where I start the next step in reclaiming myself. The blue haired gynoid made sure her bags weren't slipping and started forward. Maybe I should see if I can meet someone and manage to socialize a little before seeing Mr. Summers.
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Date: May 23rd, 2010 The city was in sad shape, but the day had been saved, but barely. The heroes realized that they needed to better themselves should such a dire situation ever arise again. An old abandoned arena, probably from the hey day of Circus Maximus would prove to be a way to better themselves. This was a venue where the heroes could spar away from prying eyes, on neutral ground and best of all, not worry about hurting anyone. Word was spread through the grapevine in the hero community. Take the evening off to come test your mettle against the other heroes. No one knew definitively who was coming, though heroes had their suspicions. But among all of these unknowns, there was one truth to the whole matter, tonight was going to be an interesting night.
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Every now and then people wake up with that feeling in their stomach that the day is going to suck. They’ve got no reason for that belief. As far as they know, this is just another ordinary day, and most of the time it really is just a normal day. Other times however... you wish you had stayed in bed. Today will fall into the latter category. The early morning passes just like any other day. People get up, say good bye to their families and head off to work or to school or run some errands. But then, right before 11 o’clock things turned real sour, real fast. Monsters were lose in the streets, seemingly appearing out of no where. Heedless of the danger, the heroes sprang into action as the first explosion broke the early morning silence. The scene before you was one of wanton destruction. It was a rampage, nothing but the after effects of brutal savagery. And judging from the roars and shockwaves, there was still something out there hell bent on destroying everything it came across. Smoke was already billowing high into the sky, and you could taste the ash in the air.
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A wall of black, whirling dots of ink exploded over everything, battering through James' dimensional barrier an instant after sweeping away the whole world around it. And then... - James Prophet woke up to the gentle beeping of his compu-alarm, the whirring of his electro-bed a gentle reminder of the very pleasant way he'd fallen asleep. He sat up wearily, listening to the hum of the stabilizers that kept his flying saucer in orbit of Earth. Rising to his feet, he caught sight of his face in a reflective surface of polished metal and paused. Wasn't that right? He was Hell-Ion, the half-blooded son of the crown prince of Lucifer-1, the biggest planet in the Antares system whose inhabitants had evolved red skin and ionic-wielding powers to protect themselves from the sun's red radiation. But he'd sided with his mother's people, not his father's, and become the guardian of the planet he'd once hoped to invade. Was that right? No. No, because when he looked in the mirror, he saw who he was. He was James Prophet, prince of Hell. This other life was patchy, with elements of his backstory hard to recall exactly, as if no one had ever bothered to write the story down completely, but he could remember his lives enough to know which one was real. - "Raven." Chris Kenzie woke up in a sitting position, peering through his mask at a very familiar face. His adopted father, Duncan Summers, was looking down at him with one of his characteristic indulgent smiles. "You fell asleep in costume again." Poking him lightly with his cane, he said, "Get upstairs and get some breakfast before your mother has my hide." The laughing acrobat was soon on his feet, running up the steps of the Ravencave to join his adopted mother, Jasmine Summers, for a hearty bacon and eggs breakfast. It was over breakfast, sitting with his new family and laughing and talking, that he caught sight of his face in one of Jasmine's highly polished plates. And the new life suddenly half-melted, as fast as it had come. He could remember patches; his adoption, his home, his family with Duncan and Jasmine, but other things were less sure, as if they'd been changed in an awfully fast hurry. He was Chris Kenzie, Geckoman, and he remembered that much with perfect clarity. - Erin fell thirty feet, landing on her feet in a lush, luxurious lawn. Coming to her senses, she realized she was standing beside the old Freedom Hall, the massive old mansion that had stood there before the Terminus Invasion and had once been the headquarters of the Freedom League. The sound of traffic was loud in her ears. Peering through the giant hedge between her and the street, she saw a scene like something out of an old movie; classic cars, men in suits, and women in needleskirts and pillbox hats that reminded her of pictures of Jackie Kennedy. But she hadn't traveled in time, she saw, not when she saw a young man walking along and listening to his iPod. The last thing she remembered was the end of everything. - Trevor Hunter woke up with a feeling of great loss, the way he always did on the anniversary of his parents' deaths. But Travis was there to comfort and steady him, as always, the greying-haired champion of justice a rock as they carried flowers to the graves of Ted Hunter and Janet Pryce-Hunter. Behind them was Margery, his grandfather's never-failing secretary, who'd stayed young and vital as long as Travis had thanks to their infusions of the Infinity Formula Midnight had taken from Wilhelm Kantor. It was raining just a little, enough that the smooth, polished marble reflected Trevor's face back at him as he and his grandfather recited the oath they'd taken to avenge any unjust killings like those that had taken his father and Travis' son. And it was then he remembered that his parents were alive. They'd abandoned him for Paris, left him in the care of an old man who lived alone, his favorite secretary long since dead. Patchy as the false life was, he could remember details of it, but there was no doubt in his mind about which story was which. He was Midnight II...but not this Midnight II. - Eve woke up as her cousin threw a pillow at her face. "Eeeeve! Wake up! Wake up you silly sleepyhead!" Faith gave her a big raspberry. "You'll be late for your recital!" "Fine, fine," grumbled Eve, who'd never been a morning person. She slid out of bed, headed for the bathroom, and started brushing her teeth. She looked in the mirror, saw the toothbrush blocking her mouth, and remembered. She was the hottest teen musician in Freedom City, she was a powerful psychic teen hero, she had a cute boyfriend with a nice smile. But that was a lie, wasn't it? She was Sage, and she remembered everything.
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Warren took a deep breath as soon as he stepped through the gates of Claremont Academy, his suitcase on one hand and his guitar case in the other. New school, new problems and hopefully some new friends if Warren was feeling lucky enough. He really had no idea what to expect from this place, but he was not going to start letting doubting his decision. And now the question remains...Where do I go? He though as he rolled his shoulders. Tension did that to a person.
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Late April tended towards chilly in Freedom City, but it got its occasional nice evening, and this was one of them. Dry and clear with temperatures in the sixties even after the sun set, it was a good night to be outside, if you weren't interested in sleeping. Erin decided to take advantage of the weather for some outdoor training. She was sick of the Doom Room, and even more sick of her homework. She could patrol the city like some of the other students did, but the thought made her a little nervous. She'd gotten a lot of practice at city heroism, but only in situations where she could definitely tell who the bad guys were. She wasn't sure she was ready to try and make decisions like that on the fly with sufficient accuracy. So it was back out to the agility course she went. She was getting pretty good at it now, leaping and flipping over the bars and around the barriers, vaulting the metal sawhorses like she was holding her own private Olympic games. It was satisfying to hone her skills, but even this was getting sort of boring too. Still, it wasn't as though there were anything to do inside at this hour of night.
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Every now and then people wake up with that feeling in their stomach that the day is going to suck. They’ve got no reason for that belief. As far as they know, this is just another ordinary day, and most of the time it really is just a normal day. Other times however... you wish you had stayed in bed. Today will fall into the latter category. The early morning passes just like any other day. People get up, say good bye to their families and head off to work or to school or run some errands. But then, right before 11 o’clock things turned real sour, real fast. Monsters were lose in the streets, seemingly appearing out of no where. Heedless of the danger, the heroes sprang into action as the first explosion broke the early morning silence. The scene before you was one of wanton destruction. It was a rampage, nothing but the after effects of brutal savagery. And judging from the roars and shockwaves, there was still something out there hell bent on destroying everything it came across. Smoke was already billowing high into the sky, and you could taste the ash in the air.
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It was a quiet Memorial Day weekend around Freedom City, one quiet enough that many of Freedom City's superheroes (including its teenage contingent) went out of town to visit their families over the weekend, or go elsewhere with their families to enjoy the long weekend. Claremont Academy was hosting a barbecue for the kids who had no place to go, but there were plenty of other things to do in and around campus. Until, that is, the emergency alert went off: it rang first for the members of Young Freedom, jangling through the communicators they all carried, but then it began beeping frantically all across campus. This was a school emergency, requiring the attention of many of the teenage heroes at Claremont who weren't affiliated with Young Freedom. The Freedom Leaguer Siren had been visiting campus for the holiday, perhaps to visit her old friend Duncan Summers, and she quickly took charge of the emergency. "Everyone who can help, follow me! If you can't get yourself quickly, find a teleporter, flier, or speedster, and follow the distress call." She took out her League transponder and fiddled with it quickly, her scientist's fingers moving fast over the hand-sized piece of high technology. "If you have to get there on your own, use League coordinates 08401-08406. That'll put you in Ashton, right at...oh, by the loa, it's Rick Lucas' house." Siren had been on the old Freedom League; the ageless beauty had been there since the 1960s. She knew Rick Lucas, the former mascot-cum-junior member of the Silver Age League, and of course his son, Claremont student Mark Lucas, very well indeed. "Quickly now!"
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With the rumble of a well tuned engine, a black motorcycle pulled up to Claremont Academy's main entrance. Of a noticeably older design, the bike's surfaces still gleamed thanks to studious maintenance. As it came to a stop, its rider, dressed in dark jeans and a protective jacket, swung a long leg over to dismount. Tossing his leather gloves into a saddlebag, he removed his helmet to reveal a young man with black hair a little too long to be well kempt and angular features that emphasized the lankiness of his frame. Clipping the helmet to a strap on the bike, he swung his dusty brown knapsack from his back to retrieve a beaten fedora, which he deftly flipped onto his head before taking stock of his surroundings. As it was the first day of spring break, Trevor Hunter assumed there wouldn't be too many people around, allowing him to move into his dormitory with a minimum of fanfare. The rest of his things would be arriving from his grandfather's manor later that day, but he'd decided to go on ahead to make sure all of his registration was in order and to take a look around. Although he'd been invited to attend Claremont weeks ago, it was not until now that the seventeen year old had gotten a chance to visit the campus. Hitching his pack over one shoulder, he dug a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and tried to follow the directions on it to the main office.
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Ahh, the Fens. You will never find a more retched hive of *record skips* "Hey you! Get those crates loaded on that truck! If I have to tell you to stop slacking off one more time, you'll be hearing from the boss!" One man in a black-tie-suit stood on a loading doc outside one of the many warehouses in the fens that had surely seen better days. He was taking his time directing the efforts of a few other men who were collectively milling about loading crate after crate onto a truck. They were instructed to make the operation quick, and cover their tracks as best they could. That was why the man in the suit had taken every precaution to make sure that they were not followed. Glancing down at the briefcase in his hand, he made sure the small LED on top of it was still blinking. The device was still on and ready to be deployed at a moment's notice. The boss had been nice enough to supply them with that much, and one other insurance policy at least... Now if only those damn lackeys would work faster... He thought, as he kept his eyes peeled for interlopers.
