Search the Community

Early January, 2024 It started simply, with reasonable questions. Michael had been asking around, checking in with students in his grade about availability in the early month. He was open about his reasons, though they were quite varied. He was concerned about the recent issue where some terrifying creature from a higher dimension had kidnapped several of them and made them participate in dangerous, life or death games for its amusement. He was concerned about his change in school; about a different, tougher curriculum than he was used to. He was concerned about his friends who might need help in either of those situations. He was concerned about his lack of experience in being a hero, but more than that in working with others; he had always worked to be a team player, but right now he was a guy without a team, and when you were playing a team sport, the guy playing by himself didn't usually last long, and Superheroics was one of the biggest team sports out there. He hadn't lied about his feelings on this. He was even honest that during a few of his own recent extracurricular activities he'd gotten beaten down by some people who might not have been as strong as him, but were much better at aiming where they hit then he was. Most of them had seen him with a couple of bruises before so he was being serious about that too; he wasn't the kind of person to lie unnecessarily. He explained to each person his feelings on the whole situation; some of the conversations were short, some were long, some were specific, some were general. Michael was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. But he also wasn’t the kind of person who just did things without trying to have some sort of plan ready to go to figure out what he should do next, so it was pretty obvious to everyone that he was talking to that he was thinking about doing ‘something’, but what that something was could have been any number of things. In the end, after a sort of feeling out process, he sent a text message to Baz, Lawrence, Parker, Consuelo, Carmen, and Mizuki asking if they wanted to do some extra training with the Crimson Tiger; a Claremont Alumni and Muay Thai master. He’d emailed her and, through communication with her and the school, set up a day for her to come by and give them some extracurricular combat training. In case something bad happened again, maybe a little extra time spent training together and leaning from a master could better prepare them for their expanding careers. And then the second part of the text was that after that, if they wanted, they should go over calculus homework together, because he was having issues on problem 14. Carmen may not have been in the same classes as they were, but he was sure they could give her a hand, or she could give them a hand, as well; studying was easier when you had a group. The text said there was no pressure to come if they didn’t feel like it, but that it was going to be in the gym after class and they’d go to the library after to study, so if they wanted to do either, or both, to just come by. So, on the appointed day, after classes ended, still holding his backpack, he was waiting outside the gym to see who had been interested enough in his offer to come and train and study with him, looking as golden as ever. Crimson Tiger was waiting inside, knowing that he had invited a ‘few’ friends if they had wanted to come.

Mid January, 2024 THE TERRORS OF HIGH SCHOOL! HOMEWORK! TESTS! COLLEGE PREP! RIVAL SCHOOLS! All of these things weigh heavily on the mind of the adolescent, even more on the mind of the adolescent Super Hero, who must juggle these with the duties of Superheroing! But what, dear reader, happens when the actions of the maturing Superhero overlap with the actions of the maturing high school student!? That is the focus of our story today! It was supposed to be, arguably, a fairly easy assignment for Biology. Several students in class had grouped up to go to one of a few preselected locations and examine the unique biology of the area; by comparing their findings, the class could see how even somewhat small differences in location- places within the same city- could change the biodiversity of the area. It was practical knowledge that could provide real world examples; perfect experience. Due to Mizuki's talents, she had been given the chance to take Lawrence and Baz out to look at the ecosystem that thrives around the Centery Narrows; where fresh and salt water mix to create an almost wholly unique ecosystem called an estuary. This also brings them quite close to the closed Ocean Heights Amusement Park, which is supposed to be closed for several more months; opening on Memorial Day in May. It's supposed to be guarded by Stronghold Security during the off-season, all the rides shut down and waiting for tourists and locales in the spring and summer. Which is why it was especially weird that, as they were out exploring the Estuary in a motor boat, they could see the lights on several of the lights start up, the Ferris Wheel start moving, and then, after a little bit, someone fall from the edge of the park and land in the frigid water, arms whipping against the current threatening to drag him out to sea.

Freedom Hall City Center, Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday, December 13, 2023, 5:58 PM As was typical for this time of year, the City Center was covered with dazzling lights and holiday decorations. A massive Christmas tree stood in the green space at the heart of Centennial Ciricle, out in front of City Hall. A section of the park had been converted into an open air ice skating rink that was filled with people. Sitting just to the west of Centennial Circle, Freedom Hall was no exception. Section of the stone wall surrounding the original headquarters of the Freedom League had various decorations along it, and the trees inside the grounds were also adorned with lights. The hall itself had lights strung along the edges of the stepped ledges created by the roofs of each floor. Inside the world famous building, the large lobby and reception area had been decorated for the holidays and prepare for hosting the annual holiday party the League hosted for heroes from across the city (and beyond). A ten foot tall Christmas tree had been set up along the right side of the lobby, covered in shinning silver ornaments and multicolored lights. There were also a number of tables set up along that side of the lobby, some lower tables with chairs, while others were taller tables around which guests could stand. An open doorway led to a large conference room where the foot and refreshments had been set up. The other side of the lobby had been reconfigured for the event by Dr. Metropolis to include a working fireplace in which there was currently roaring fire. A number of leather sofas and chairs were arranged around the fireplace, offering a comfortable seating area for guests to relax. A yellow blur was moving about the large area, stopping briefly here or there to make some last minute adjustment or addition to the decorations. The blur came to a halt in over near the main entrance looking back toward the lobby, taking in everything at once. Dressed in an iconic yellow costume, with a checkered flag pattered strip down the sides, Velocity smiled as everything was ready for the guests to start to arrive. The speedster had first come to the Freedom League's annual holiday party when she had been a teenaged hero herself, but that was almost two decades ago. She had spent much more of that time helping to host the events as a member of the League. Velocity had always enjoyed this time of year and the opportunity to reconnect with longtime friends in the hero community and to have a chance to meet other heroes she had not had an opportunity to work with. This year brought some conflicting emotions for her. Invitations were extended to current students at Claremont Academy and this year, her own son was attending the school. The speedster took a deep breath to help keep back tears at how time seemed to have passed so quickly, she knew guests would soon be arriving.

Riverside, Freedom City, New Jersey Thursday January 4, 2024, 4:36 PM Neko Musume and Bernadette O'Connell were riding in the back of an UBER on their way to Riverside in downtown Freedom City, the typical afternoon traffic making the trip a bit slower that it might otherwise take. Off the in the distance, the back of Sentry Statue was visible, looking out toward the Century Narrows. Not long after the start of the school year and the pair being assigned as roommates, Neko had learned that Bernadette was the lead singer in a band and would regularly go out during the week or on weekends to play at various local bars and clubs. From what the Japanese teen understood, they were doing fairly well and had started a web presence to sell recordings of songs. Just before the holiday break, the Irish teen had asked Neko if she would be willing to help them out with their marketing and social media presence, there had just not really been a chance to really talk about it between finals and Bernadette going home to Boston during the break. Bernadette was somewhat fidgety in her seat with excitement. In fact, the redhead had generally been like that since the Freedom League's holiday party. That night when the two had finally both made it back to the dorm room, Bernadette had told Neko about making out with Charlie in a secluded part of the Hall during the party. Neko had long known the Irish teen had something of a crush on Charlie, which had been put in limbo when the other teen had disappeared from the school well over a year ago. Needless to say, despite the late hour when the two had gotten back from the party, the redhead had still been rather over excited, describing herself as 'Wired to the Moon,' one of the many Irish slang Bernadette used from time to time. All-in-all, since the League party, Bernadette had been about as happy as Neko had seen her, not that the Irish teen wasn't generally cheerful. "Thanks again for agreein' ta try ta help us out Neko." Bernadette said, giving her roommate a wide smile.

"No, you get some sleep," said Ashley Tran in a friendly sort of way, careful to keep her voice low enough that she didn't alarm the small baby she was holding as she paced the Claremont campus. With her helmet and jacket off (or rather, in her motorcycle's storage), she could have been any adult visitor to Claremont's campus. Well. Most of them weren't wearing sunglasses just in case anyone should happen to pick her out as a former student twice over; and few of them were carrying a baby. "We'll be fine...this is not more dangerous than the mining planet!" she added seriously. "You have been up with the baby all weekend. Get some rest, babe." She hung and smiled down at Phillip, who was going through a phase where he only stayed quiet when his mother was holding him. So naturally he immediately started bawling his bright blue eyes out, crinkling his little tomato face, and otherwise throwing up a storm. "Sssh, sshh..." She flushed slightly as she sang to the baby, thinking how easy her mother had always made this look. Well she'd told Carmen what to expect when they met, even if she hadn't actually seen the baby before - babies cried, what could you do?

(GM Post) December 7th, 2023, Evening, WCZA Station WELCOME BACK! YOU'RE WATCHING FREEDOM CITY'S FLAGSHIP NEWS SHOW THE BRAND REPORT Starring....BUDDY BRAND TONIGHT'S GUEST: State Senator Phillip Fredrickson A year ago- and for the 15 years before that- Phillip Fredrickson was one of the most prolific voices in the New Jersey State Senate for Superhero and meta-human registration. An old, stately looking man in his late 60s, Phillip had been a consistent crusader for believing that the world would be safer if meta-humans and Superheroes were registered in the government, and that New Jersey, as host to Freedom City, could be the world’s first example of doing something like that ‘the right way’. That had changed suddenly. Phillip’s granddaughter, Gabriela, had developed a meta-human ability. And in return, he had come to realize his mistakes and his incorrect beliefs, now that his skin was in the game- so to speak-, he had come to change his tune. He was now pushing for expanded care for meta-human children without requiring a sign-up or a registration, support for any family who had a young child who suddenly had meta-human abilities appear- counseling for parent and child, training on power control and any unique materials they needed to manage their powers. However, changing one's opinions was often a moment of danger for a politician, even when the reasons were good and the person was staunch in both their explanations and in all their other beliefs; Fredrickson had not changed any other position he held, and was clear that was always going to be the case, but he was changing a significant cornerstone of his campaign and his personal code, which was a negative to many people. His support had cratered, his political capital was in shreds, and what had been a solid re-election campaign was now in crisis as he attempted to right a sinking ship. Despite this, he refused to back down from his changed position, and was clear that even if it cost him the election, he wasn't going to change his tune; he loved his granddaughter, and he realized that all meta-humans were someone's grandchild, and that they deserved as much help as they could. His campaign staff had put him on Buddy's show to hopefully let the people see that while he may of changed his opinions, he was still the strong willed man he'd always been, who kept his word and worked for his constituency. The old man had a stately dignity to him even in crisis and at the risk of losing his seat; his hair was gray and thinning but worn in a close cut. His suit was nice and his blue tie added a splash of color where it was needed. He answered questions posed by Buddy with a firm voice that didn't waver, even when he was asked tough questions. He was calm under pressure and respectful to his host. But everything changed during a commercial break. An aide ran up to him with a cellphone, whispered something in his ear, and then gave him the phone. "Hello?" He asked. Then he listened. For a full minute, Buddy could see his face getting paler and paler. The old man swallowed, and he suddenly looked much less vigorous. He looked, truthfully, like a scared old man. He looked at Buddy with eyes that showed a deep sorrow; something terrible was on that phone call. His voice wasn't strong anymore, it trembled and he looked almost like he was going to burst into tears. "I'm sorry...I don't know that I can continue this interview...something serious has come up."

Claremont Academy, Jasmin Summers Administrative Building Freedom City, New Jersey December 1, 2023, 9:00 AM Callie Summers, the headmistress at Claremont Academy led Vicki Adams and her father into the main entryway of the administrative building after their meeting this morning on Vicki’s first day at the institution. This had come about rather suddenly and followed her father’s discovery about the nature of the teen’s former school, the Atom Academy. "So, I am confident Claremont will provide all the opportunities Vicki would need to obtain the quality education you expect for her." The headmistress said in continuation of the general conversation they had been having for the last half-hour or so. "And now we have an orientation tour scheduled for Vicki, and arrange what I understand is a familiar face to act as her guide." The headmistress continued, indicating a figure that was staining in the entryway, apparently waiting for the trio. Both Vicki and her father quickly recognized the waiting figure as Lawrence Harrow, the sixteen year old son of Lord Robert Harrow. With short blond hair and handsome features, Lawerence had a very close resemblance to his father, save for his bright blue eyes, which almost seemed to burst with energy. Those were the very image of his mother, Megan Howell-Harrow. Lawrence was dressed in a pair of grey slacks, with black shoes. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a red tie, over which was a navy blue sweater, which bore the Claremont Academy crest over the left breast. "Mr. Adams, Vicki, so wonderful to see you both again." Lawrence offered in greeting with a charming smile.

GM Boston, Saturday 16th July The sun was high, the heat was high, the humidity was high. Plenty of fluids, sunscreen and shades were the order of the day. A tall, lanky girl dressed in baggy trousers and a crop top sat roasting in a park. She had an acoustic guitar on her knee, which she was strumming with considerable dexterity. She wasn't putting a lot of effort in - more of an idle strum, listening for new tunes, making up compositions, but the trained ear could tell she had remarkable skill with her fingerwork. Long, marfanoid fingers, bordering on the uncanny. The girl was maybe five nine, five ten, but even for that height her fingers looked about an inch too long for normal. The girl was Summer Sands. Olive skinned, brown eyed, long black hair without any style. One of those faces that was too odd to be beautiful, without being too weird to be ugly. A long face, with something wistful in her expression, something enigmatic in her style. She was, as they said, lost in music. She was also waiting for someone. Bernadette O'Connell Aka the merely magnificent Multi-Girl... Summer Sands wanted to enter the open mic upcoming talent show in Boston. And she had reached out to Bernadette. They both had the same music teacher. Summer had left Claremont two years ago. Summer was a T-Baby.

North Bay Freedom City, New Jersey December 3, 2023, 10:15 AM The past few days had been something of a whirlwind for Vicki Adams, from having her father pull her from attending the Atom Academy and placing her (unknowingly to him) at the even more Metahuman focused Claremont Academy, to an extra dimensional trickster decide to pull many of the Claremont students into various versions of video games on Vicki's first day at the school. In many ways it was a good thing that her first day had been a Friday, so that she might have the weekend to get her bearings and acclimate to the new school. But then, on Saturday afternoon, Vicki had been called to see Headmistress Summers, who had told her that Synapse was going to be in town Sunday morning to meet with her. So, at the appointed time Sunday morning, an Uber had arrived at Claremont to take Vicki to see the Englishwoman. A bit more snow had fallen on Freedom City over the past couple of nights, but, as an East Coast city, it was quite familiar with dealing with a bit of snow and the roads were clear and traffic was not significantly affected. The route had been pretty straight forward, east to State Route 9, which took Vicki across the Century Bridge, from which she had a great view of both the Century Narrows to the east, and downtown Freedom City to the west (with the massive Sentry Statute looking out toward towards the bay). Once on the northern side of Freedom City, the Uber followed the shoreline of the Century Narrows east, passing several large and expensive homes along the shoreline, until they pulled up to the address where Vicki was to meet Synapse. It was a sleek and modern two-story villa nestled on the southern shore of North Bay, overlooking the cover in which sat the North Bay Yacht Club (which Vicki had seen a version of during the Mario Kart inspired race Quirk had put together back on Friday).

GM 5th December Millenial Mall It was right around rush hour, and the mall was packed with Christmas shoppers. Yuletide songs and jingles floated through the air, and it seemed every dozen yards there was a Santa Claus trying to sell something. ZAP! ZAM! ZAP! ZAM! Golden beams streaked across the hall. One hit an ice-cream stall, which exploded into silver coins. Another hit a christmas tree, which showered golden needles across the floor. One whizzed right past Michael Adon's face, and turned a shoppers bag into purest platinum. The shopper let it go with a dull thud, eyes widened before she realised just how potentially rich she was. "ITS CHRISTMAS!" came the yell. A youngish man, dressed in orange and gold, maybe in his twenties, a little on the short side but trim. Around the crown of his head, a wreath of pure shining gold. Even his eyes shone gold. He blew imaginary smoke out of both fingertips, and then started (with said fingertips) firing more golden beams around the mall, turning objects into silver, gold, and platinum. Precious metals for all!

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 11, 2023 Neko felt that familiar rush of pleasure as she published her latest #CatgirlReacts video. But now #CatgirlNeededaDrinkofWater, so it was time to move on. There was a bit of racket in the hallway, and her instincts pricked up as she reached to open the door. What was this? Pterradonna, Neko’s dorm mate known for her ability to transform into a pterodactyl, was pressed up against one side of the hallway with a look of confusion and perhaps slight fear on her face. Following Pterra’s eyes, Neko saw Consuelo halfway up the wall on the other side of the hallway, dressed up in cat cosplay, and making unconvincing angry cat noises. “Rawr! I’m a cat, Pterra! Rawr! I’m gonna get you!” Rumor had it that Consuelo had gone on some sort of adventure with La Puma Negra last weekend and now thought being a cat was the cool thing to do. If only she weren’t so bad at it. “Um, Suelo,” ventures the nervous, semi-saurian teen, “how are you sticking to the wall?” “What? Oh, uh. . . .” The cat-costumed student drops to the floor and looks up with dismay at the fingertip-shaped holes left in the otherwise immaculate plaster walls of the hallway. “Oops. I must have accidentally done that with my disintegration. Does anybody have some, like, spackle?” Pterradonna takes this moment to slip back in her room. “Uh, gotta go. . . .” “Oh, hey Neko. Look, I’m a cat! Rawr! Rawr!” And Consuelo stomps across the hallway lashing out with imaginary claws. “Wanna cat fight me?”

Sub-basement of Claremont Academy Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 9:45 AM Lawrence Harrow looked about the large room on one of the sub-basements beneath the grounds of Claremont Academy. The room was rather Spartan, with smooth white and grey walls, a floor that had a hexagon pattern and a high, almost cavernous ceiling. Along one of the walls, a couple dozen feet above the floor, was a dark set of plexiglass windows. "So, this is the Doom Room." The blond teen stated with his refined British accent as he looked back over his shoulder towards his roommate and gave a small grin. "Ready to show off what you can do Baz?" The faculty had arranged time in the school’s training room for several of the new students in order to start gathering baseline information on their powers for the year. As such, Lawerence was wearing the standard blue and yellow Claremont uniform, the morphic molecule costume tightly fitting his lean athletic build. The teen began slowly scanning the apparently empty room before his bright blue eyes fixed on the windows to the control room for a few moments. He then turned back to Baz. "Parker said he was in our testing group right? Wonder who the others will be."

Claremont Academy, Jasmin Summers Administrative Building Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 9:20 AM Bernadette O'Connell made her way along a path toward the administrative building of Claremont Academy. The attractive redhead had been asked by the school's headmistress to provide a tour to a newly enrolled student of the school. The Irish teen had to admit she was likely a good option for this task during a school day, seeing as she could be in multiple places at a time (one of her duplicates was sitting in a math class at that moment). The tall girl was dressed in a pair of jeans and a light grey lacrosse hoodie. Checking her phone, she quickened her pace as she realized she was a bit behind schedule. Thankfully she was quick enough that she arrived at the main entrance of the admin building just as a tall boy built like an American football player exited the main office. "Hello, Michael?" Bernadette asked with a warm smile as she walked up to the teen, her Irish accent evident. "I'm Bernadette, Headmistress Summer asked me ta give ye a tour o' campus."

Claremont Academy Athletic Fields Freedom City, New Jersey October 2023, 3:30 PM During Michael's new student orientation tour, there had a discussion about the school's athletic fields and Bernadette showing him how to play lacrosse. So, the Senior girl had arranged for them to meet at the athletic fields after classes ended for the day. The Irish teen was dressed in a pair of shorts and a Irish national football team jersey as she walked out onto the field. She had a large bag filled with lacrosse sticks over one shoulder, which she dropped onto the ground. Two of her duplicates where busy moving a lacrosse goal out onto the field, while a couple of others already had lacrosse sticks and were running around passing a ball between them. Resting her own lacrosse stick over one shoulder, the redhead was just waiting for Michael to arrive, along with anyone else that might show up.

Kord Dormitories, Fifth Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 4, 2023 Like the rest of the dormitories, the fifth floor of Kord was a similar scene of controlled chaos involving students and parents. Three eighteen year old girls emerged from the stairwell into the hall of the fifth floor. The three were all identical in appearance, the same, long red hair and dressed in matching jean shorts and green tank-tops. The only difference between them was what each was carrying, with one having a backpack and suitcase, the next only had a large suitcase (which she seemed to lift with minimal effort) and the last carrying a box. Bernadette O'Connell led two of her duplicates down the hall toward her room for her last year at Claremont, excited to see her friend again. It had been an interesting summer, not the least of which had been her experience at a band competition in Boston. The sooner she got her stuff to her new room, the sooner she could go find her friends and catch up….

Danger International Building Wading Way, Freedom City, New Jersey Wednesday July 26, 2023 9:43 AM local time Lulu Beaumont found herself riding an express elevator to one of the upper floors of the building that housed the Freedom City offices of Danger International and the associated business and non-profits companies under the umbrella of that holding company owned by the family of her friends Veronica and Janus. The redhead was there for an appointment to meet with Veronica (the need for an appointment primarily being to ensure Veronica was actually in Freedom City, given her habit of regularly traveling to all corners of the world). The elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening and letting Lulu out into the reception area of the floors that housed the executive suites for Danger International and its various subsidiaries. It was little surprise the area was set up to impress. The large open space of the reception area had ceilings that rose a full two floors above. In the center where several comfortable leather couches and chairs, arranged in small clusters. Throughout the waiting area were various statutes and other artifacts from around the world, very likely items found by members of the Danger Family over the decades, perhaps some even uncovered by Johnny Danger himself. Ahead of Lulu was a long reception desk, behind which sat a couple of women in professional attire. To either side of the desk were stairways that wrapped up to the floor above, which divided from the towering open area of the reception area to what were likely office or meeting rooms. There were also two hallways (one to either side of the desk/stairs) which led back along the current floor as well. To either side of the room were large glass walls, enclosing large conference rooms and towering windows that looked out over the skyline of the Wading Way. To Lulu's right the view was of the three massive towers of Pyramid Plaza, while to the left were views toward the heart of the city center. As she made her way toward the reception desk, one of the women seated behind it looked up with a friendly smile. "How may I help you?" But before Lulu could answer, a familiar voice range out from behind the redhead. "It's alright Mary, I can see to Ms. Beaumont from here. She is meeting with Veronica." Turning around, Lulu saw Prudence (the often omnipresent personal assistant to Veronica and Janus during their time at Claremont) emerging from another hallway to one side of the bank of elevators. While Lulu knew Prudence would often "dress down" when in the field with Veronica, it was unsurprising that today she was dressed in impeccable business attire and glasses. As was so often the case, Prudence was holding a small iPad in one hand. "It is good to see you again Lulu." Prudence continued with a more familiar tone, offering the younger woman a genuine, yet professional, smile.

Just another IC Short Story Early December, 2023, Construction site in Greenbank Michael got out of class on Friday and immediately went back to his room. He dumped his school supplies, changed into a generic polo, and by 3:30 he was on a bus headed into the city proper, reading a book of poetry by William Blake. It was part of an assignment, but he had an interest in the poet’s most popular and well known poem The Tyger; it was perhaps a bit generic to say it was one of his favorites, but he did rank it quite highly as poetry. He annotated some stuff in the book with his own writings, but read accompanying discussions on the poem that were included in the book as well. He flipped the pages and scribbled for several stops, until he saw the skeletal frame of the building above a chain-link fence with a big plastic sign advertising DeCosta Construction on it, and he got out at the next stop, putting the book in his pocket. He crossed the street and wandered up to the gate, then into the site proper. A heavy-set man minding a concrete mixer saw him and intercepted him a few steps in with a frown. “Kid, you can’t be in here.” He said sternly. Michael inclined his head to the side curiously and extended his hand. The man shook his hand reflexively, a natural reaction a lot of people had to someone casually extending their hand to them. “I’m Michael, I’m Terrance’s son.” Michael explained, smiling. The older man seemed doubtful and was about to say something but a whistle from two stories up made them both look up at a muscular, dark skinned man working on setting rivets. “Hey Mike!” “Hello Mister Franklin!” Michael responded with a wave. Franklin Bird was one of his dad’s best workers and had been with him for a decade on every job. “He’s in the trailer. Joe, Mike’s fine.” Franklin called before going back to his work. Joe looked at Michael, who shrugged and offered a genuine smile again. “Just go straight to the trailer and get a hard hat if you’re going to be wandering around.” Joe said in annoyance. “Yes, Sir.” Michael said demurely to avoid bruising an ego as he stepped around and moved with purpose directly to the management trailer, where his father was sitting at what passed for a fancy desk on a construction site; a white plastic folding table and a lawn chair. Terrance Thomas Adon was the reason Michael had a tall frame, but he was not the reason for Michael’s full head of hair. His belly had gone a bit slack recently as he had been doing less work out on the sites and moved to supervisory positions, but he was a large man with arms made strong from work, with calloused hands. His hair was more salt than pepper, and was thinning at the top. He had a carefully trimmed mustache that was exactly within regulations for construction works, and in his slacks and polo he looked the part of an educated foreman. He was currently going over figures in his chair, but he looked up and grinned at Michael as his son entered. “Ah, if it ain’t a stranger!” he said cheerfully. “Where you been? Busy at your school, I ‘spect?” He asked as Michael pulled up his own chair. “Yeah. It’s...well moving to a new school partway through the year is rough. I’m trying to find some clubs and stuff, and all the other students and faculty are really welcoming, but it’s always going to be an adjustment.” Michael said honestly, scratching his chin. “If we hadn’ta thought it was necessary, we wouldn’ta moved ya to the new school to begin with. But it was what was best for you, you know?” Terrance said with a frown, putting his pen down and clasping his large hands together on his desk as he looked at Michael. “I understand. And I’m not upset about it. But It takes time to do any sort of changes. You know that, don’t you?” “Of course I do; And I’ve got plenty of experience with eggheads who have to have things changed at the last minute too. And if I know anything about you, and I feel like I do, you can handle any of that stuff without much issue.” he looked around quickly and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No matter what them powers are doing to you.” he whispered it but his voice was confident, enough to embolden Michael into a smile of confidence of his own, then his voice rose again. “It’s Sam I’m worried about, if anything, she’s not taking it as well as you, I’ve heard from her parents.” “Yeah. I’m trying to help her along but I can only do so much, and sometimes she just doesn’t really want help. And it’s not like I’m gonna force her to do anything.” His father nodded along and maintained the tone of offering advice. “Look, sometimes the best thing you can do is to do your best, and let other people follow along in your example; sometimes people aren’t looking for a hand up, they’re looking for the road, and Michael, you can carve that road for them.” He didn’t say anything else, but Michael studied him carefully. The pinch of those dark brown eyes, the twitch of his lip. The unspoken statement his father left there, that he probably didn’t even want to admit he thought, was that sometimes people wouldn’t follow the path even if you gave them the road, and that you had to cut them loose. Michael knew his dad would have followed that same advice himself; with problematic workers, he could only give them so many chances. “Carve the road, huh?” “Or light the way, or hurl the boulders out of the way, or direct the traffic. However you want to present it as.” he said with a grin. “Just, doing something to make it easier for other people.” “I get it.” Michael responded with a wave of his hand. “Help myself first, and others can come after, because they’ll have an easier time going where I’ve already been.” “And because if you’re stable and got your head put on straight, you aren’t going to be distracted, you can put all your effort into helping other people.” Terrance said as he stood up. “Come on, I had to work through lunch getting payroll ready, so I wanna go get something to eat.” So father and son left the worksite for a bit, heading three blocks down the street to a Mexican place where Michael ordered some tacos and his dad got a steaming plate of fajitas. “So how’s school?” “Not bad...I’m working on a book report, they really threw me right in and I just had to catch up, so it’s been challenging, but I’m managing. The library is full of books so there’s plenty of help with studying and the like.” “Any sports?” “Nothing official, we’re too small for anything like that. But the students play sports together sometimes, you know, just for fun. So it keeps me up to date.” “A shame you can’t compete anymore.” It was an odd thing to say; they both had their frustrations about the situation. Michael liked sports, and he liked playing with others. His father liked watching Michael win, but also liked Michael having fun. There’d be no point to it if Michael wasn’t enjoying sports, or at least that was how his dad always acted, so as long as he was having fun, it should be fine, right? “Isn’t it just enough to be having fun?” Michael asked his dad, wanting to poke at the discussion a bit more with his dad, who frowned at the question. “It is enough to be having fun, Michael. But you enjoyed competition. I can look at you and tell you you’re missing the feeling of competing in some way. Now sure, it’s probably some level of being uncomfortable in new surroundings, but I get the feeling you’re going to be jonesing for a genuine contest before too long; that having fun with friends throwing the ball around isn’t going to fix your desire for a little competition.” “...That makes it sound like I’m gonna cause trouble looking for fights.” He thought about his interaction with the green-haired student he had earlier. “...You know...maybe you’re right. But I don’t intend to.” “Only if you let it happen. It’s just about keeping control of yourself. I only mention it because I know you’re better than your worst traits.” His father said frankly, his voice even. It did actually bring some level of frustration to Michael, to be informed of- and have to recognize- his own failures and shortcomings. He would eventually miss competition, he’d miss challenging himself. But that was only if he didn’t change his perceptions. “...I’m going through a lot of changes aren’t I.” he said after a long time spent thinking about it. “You are. And with those changes come benefits. The Chinese Character for Crisis contains the characters for both ‘Danger’ and ‘Opportunity’. John F. Kennedy said that.” “He was paraphrasing Lewis Mumford from 1944, and it’s not correct, the second character means something different.” Michael noted. “I learned that in a linguistics class I’m taking; it was an example of how things that aren’t exactly correct can be warped to provide a more positive message and how those messages often stick around despite the incorrectness due to people’s desire to have positive messaging.” Terrance laughed gruffly. “Well, then, even if it’s not right, it’s a good thought to have, right? You’re in Crisis, and it’s dangerous, but there’s also opportunity.” Michael laughed at that in response, at his father's skillful handling of new information; his work, his body, that all belied that he had always had a sharp mind that he was willing to exercise with the use of a quick word or jib.. “You’re right. I suppose that’s true. Maybe I should just start saying it too. ‘You know, people like to say that the Chinese character for crisis contains the words “danger” and “opportunity”, but that’s not actually true, but it shows that people want it to be true’, or something like that.” The two shared a familial grin and chuckle together before it was interrupted by Terrance’s phone ringing he picked it up and answered. “Yeah Frank?” His happy face slowly dripped into a serious scowl. “...Crap, you’re serious? Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get everyone out the back while he’s distracted.” He said, hanging up. He looked at his son with a severe look. “Michael. A guy I fired last week came back to the site. I had been going to send out his last check but it seems like he wants more than that. And he’s juiced himself up.” he said the next part very seriously. “I don’t think you should come back there, just wait here until I get back.” Michael looked at him probingly for a moment, then nodded as he understood what was being said. “You got it. I won’t go anywhere near the site, I’ll wait here until you get back.” he said politely, a son obeying his father. Terrance got up, left the money on the table, and headed out the door at a jog. as he was in the middle of the first crosswalk, the roar of wind overcame the sound of cars for a moment and a corona of red and gold shot over the buildings, heading back towards the construction site.

This is just a little IC solo thread/story, only two posts, I've written about the first time Golden Star does some Superheroics. Nothing major, no mechanics, no other characters or anything, so there's no need for an OOC thread I think. Black Friday, 2023, Midtown, Millennium Mall The Mall was absolutely, ludicrously packed. There would be more space in a sardine can then there would be in the inside of the mall. Accompanying Michael’s mother, him and Kenny had had to amuse themselves while their mother spent most of the year’s surplus- the money saved by Thomas repairing the garage by himself, the money saved by Michael getting a free ride to Claremont, and the money quietly deposited into their account to make up for Michael’s hospital stay- on a variety of bright, shiny presents that Michael and Kenny were mostly here to carry when needed. She had shooed them aware a little after lunch, which likely meant she was shopping for them, and left the two without any real direction on what to do. Michael had already gotten most of his presents, but Stella liked the feeling of buying presents in person instead of over the internet, so it meant trips to the malls, the shops, and the stores. It wasn’t that much of a bother, but it was difficult to get some air when crammed onto the small walkways of the three story building. Currently the two were hanging over the balcony of the food court, legs dangling over a three story drop as they sat on the raised barrier, watching people scurry below them. “You see her?” Michael asked. “Hrmmm...no.” Kenny responded. Michael leaned over conspiratorially and pointed. It was a bit easier for him than his brother; ever since he got his powers, his senses seemed a little sharper. He unerringly identified his mother’s red curls as she walked into a toy store amidst a throng of 20 or 30 other parents. Kenny followed his finger and made a sound. “Oh! I see her. You’ve got good eyes!” “Well that happens when you play a bunch of sports. If you put in the effort to train something you get better at it. I have to be able to pick out receivers in a crowd and track the puck on the ice, you know?” The little brother hmmed again and took a sip of his drink. “How come you aren’t playing sports at your new school? They ain’t even got no sports teams, so why are you there?” He asked with the innocence of a child. Michael sighed and stretched. “Come on, we’ve been over this. I can’t play sports anymore because I got hurt in my accident, remember?” “You don’t look hurt.” “It’s an inside hurt. The kind you can’t see but you always have to walk around with.” “Like mom? She doesn’t act like it hurts but she always gets scared when there’s a supervillain on TV.” Michael frowned at his brother’s casual innocence to ask such biting questions. “Yeah. A hurt like that. It means I can’t play anymore because I might get hurt, or something bad might happen. And the people at my new school are helping me, even if I might not ever get to play sports again. Like how Miss Cooper helped Mom; she still gets scared but she goes out and does despite it, right?” “Yeah.” “So that’s how it is with me. I might not ever play professionally or anything, but I’ll eventually get to the point where I’m okay.” he said easily. “So anyway, what are you getting mom?” He directed the conversation away from his issues smoothly. Kenny wasn’t actually going to get a present, it was just going to be whatever their Dad got and put his name on it. “Me and Dad are getting her a spa treatment. And we’re making little pots for flowers at school and I’m gonna give mine to her.” “I bet she’d like that.” Kenny nodded along and they returned to silence for a while, watching people while the bustle of the mall came over them, until Michael’s phone rang and he pulled it out to check it. The number on it was for his boss, Sandra Sampson. Maybe wanting him to take another shift or something. He answered without much concern. “Yes M’am.” The voice that responded was the same as always with Sandra; gruff, clipped, and expecting obedience. “Michael, you’re at the Millennium Mall.” That was not a question. “That would be correct.” he keep his voice even and what he was responding with vague; Kenny was watching and he didn’t want to give him any kind of idea. Let the little brother think he was just discussing getting put on a new shift or something. “There are a couple of low rent thugs who have stolen a car and some jewelry and are trying to evade police in the local area. I know you aren’t fully trained, but there shouldn’t be any problem with you stopping them. I’ve asked for you to get the first shot, and people are quite busy today for obvious reasons, so the ball is in your court.” “Do you think I’m ready for that?” “...” she was quiet. Which indicated she was doubtful. “I do not think there will be any harm in you trying.” which meant that there was someone who was going to be watching to make sure he didn’t mess up. “I get it. I’ll be there soon.” he said evenly. She hung up before he did and he put his phone back in his pocket. “Kenny, I gotta go take care of something. Can you sit on that bench until I get back?” “Are you buying me a present?” “...Yeah. I’m gonna go get your present. So you need to go sit over there and wait. Here’s twenty bucks to get a snack.” He said as he turned and slid off the railing, then helped Kenny down. He deposited Kenny in a booth and wandered off, heading towards a maintenance corridor and then up towards the roof.

Kord Dormitories, Second Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Monday, September 4, 2023 The start of the new school year was just a week away, and the activity on Claremont Academy had increased in anticipation. Today, students (and some parents) had descended on the school’s dormitories, getting students moved in ahead of the start of classes. The weather in Freedom City was still quit warm, pushing towards the 90’s, with the humidity making it seem even warmer. Lawrence Harrow exited the stairwell on the second floor of the dorms, a backpack over one shoulder and a large suitcase in tow. The blond sixteen year old’s parents had seen him off at home in North Bay and he had driven himself to campus. He was looking to get some of his things to his room and catch up with Baz so they could start meeting more of the classmates.

Sunday 4th June Nightfall The air was dusty. The kind of dust you could feel on your skin, and taste in your mouth. A taste like ash, like burning sickly sweet incense, like rotting flesh consigned to a pyre. The soup of odours was even more pungent to those beasts of the night who could sense such smells. Or those heroes of the night. This was Pueto Rico territory. Spanish was spoken more often than English, and could be heard on every street corner, or coming through open windows. Or from the Church. Singing - there was singing. Choir boys practicing, there voices melding together and floating through the evening. A few old folks, lighting candles, holding crusifix pendants, eyes upwards towards the carved ceiling or the stained window; or perhaps to God. Muttered prayers, some desperate, some afraid, some said with wet eyes. A tall thin preist, skin a honeyed brown, his head bald, his clothes black, his teeth white as he smiled, clutched a small bible. He was handsome, but his looks were only for the divine. His eyes observed all, both in and out of the Church. And he spied La Puma Negra. "Come to pray? Can I offer guidance?" he asked. Even his voice sounded handsome. Rich, deep, rumbling. A voice that could sing in a seedy jazz bar, or preach from a pure pulpit.

Summer 2023 Bedlam City, WI Stone Ridge is one of the newest parts of Bedlam; and certainly one of its wealthiest. When the city descended into squalor and crime, the wealthiest fled here, bringing old money and new problems with them. Stone Ridge is not technically part of Bedlam; not even an incorporated community. That means that Bedlam PD doesn't patrol here, just a few underfunded county sheriff's deputies. The law around here is set by Iron Talon, an armed private security company that used to hire its contractors fresh off the planes returning from Iraq and Afghanistan - and now tends to go recruiting in veterans' hospitals and shelters and find men and women who don't quite fit into civilian life anymore for whatever reason. There's not very much street crime in Stone Ridge - the Iron Talon crew is infamous for brutality beyond even what the Bedlam PD dishes out, and anyone from outside the (almost all white) neighborhood is liable to get into a lot of trouble even if they're just there to look at a new house or deliver a package. They tend to go in guns blazing when they see a superhero; which has kept many of Bedlam's erstwhile costumed defenders out. Not because they're in danger - but because everyone else is when they're there. Pete Moss has been working for Iron Talon for a couple of years now; even since he got clean. He's a veteran who didn't come back quite right from Afghanistan, even if the most dangerous thing he did was fix cars in an Army motor pool in Kabul - war will do that to people sometimes. He doesn't do any head-breaking; he just works on their private impound lot. He and Rev were an item back when he drank but he's closed off since, taking the firm position that he needed to leave behind everything from his old life if he was going to get better. The shop has been closed for hours when Rev's phone rings with Pete's cell number, but she's still working on a car - funny how that works out.

Summer 2023 They were there for various reasons. Echohead and Predator had been contacted through their connections to the US government; Mirror Knight had been reached through a third-party contact. But they were all here in what was typically the main conference room of the Wharton State Forest's main ranger office, having been contacted by the New Jersey state police and asked to gather together with one of their top agents. There were light drinks and snacks and a fine view of thickly growing pine trees outside, a legacy of the nature heroine Fleur de Joie's recent visit to the park. But so far, nobody had come to join them yet.

4th June, 2023 (Saturday) Around midday. Hot, clear skies. Sweat in the air, rot on the ground. Southside Trailer Park A festering sore on the flesh of Freedom City. A hive of homelessness, alcoholism, poverty and despair. And, on occasion, crime. There was little to be gained by the big crime gangs here, so instead the petty thief, the petty drug pusher, the petty mugger thrived. Luke Landers knew them all. He knew Billy Wiggins. Billy wiggins was currently sprawled over a rotten discarded sofa, the rusted springs threatening to impale his corpulent flesh with every wobble of his body. Billy Wiggins was forty, fat, and alcoholic. For some reason, his dog, Snuffler, sat by his legs, the only living creature who seemed to tolerate Billy for more than brief encounters. Aside from the mosquitoes that dined on Billy Wiggins flesh. The sunburnt neck, the sunburnt arms, the belly that wrestled free from the bottom of a stained t shirt. As normal, Billy Wiggins was drunk. Crushed tins of beers littered the broken earth around the sofa, and he held a half empty one on his hand. “Fatso being snoring!” laughed Huckleberry Sin, the 8 year old barefoot redneck who darted around the trailer park stealing and pranking. Many people would like to tank Huckle’s hide, but he was faster than a cockroach on wheels. Huckles pointed at Billy Wiggins and laughed again, encouraging Luke Landers to join in. “Saying he gonna be rich. Say’s his brother going to steal a mountain of gold! Haha! In his fat bottomed dreams!”

Lincoln, Freedom City, New Jersey Tuesday July 25, 2023 2:23 PM Lawrence Harrow pulled his parents' BWM iX electric SUV into the parking lot of the Cline Building, which was known to some as Freedom League Special Circumstances Housing. As someone who had grown up connected to the superhero community in Freedom City (let alone the son of a member of the Freedom League), Lawrence had visited the FLSCH quite a few times over the years, participating in fundraisers, community improvement projects and social mixers. Today the sixteen year old was here to meet Baltazar (Baz) Botez, who would be his roommate at Claremont Academy when the school year began in a couple months. The school had put the two in touch after it had decided to put them together in a room for the coming year and the pair had exchanged some emails and text messages. This would be the first time Lawrence would be meeting Baz in person. Stepping out of the SUV, the blond sixteen year old had a small box of pastries from a bakery in North Bay his mother liked in one hand. While is was only in the low 80's today, the humidity made it feel much warmer and Lawrence was dressed in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a blue T-shirt. Making his way into the building, Lawrence headed towards the elevators that would take him to the floor where Baz had his apartment.

May 15, 2023. Freedom City. Hanover. Terrifi-Labs. Terrifi-Labs was the one bedroom apartment Terrifica had converted into her personal headquarters in Freedom City. She’d sent Rainshadow the address after her little advertisement caught his attention. So here they were. Sitting where, in any other apartment, would probably be the living room. Here it did double duty as the only public space. The actual dining room was full of electronics and technology. She slid a tablet across the table they were sitting at. Rainshadow, naturally, was seated on the opposite side of it. “Please confirm I have all of the details correct. Your scenario, opponent type, etcetera. You’re also confirming that you understand that this technology is, technically, in the experimental stages. My efforts may have reduced any risk to the miniscule, but it is still there.” She crossed her legs. “With that confirmed, we can go the next room and get started.”