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  1. GM "So that's it" said Cruxberry. "The best lead we have. And I can't say I'm surprised that it was Lucy Diamond that showed up first. She never was very circumspect at the best of times". Cruxberry sat, whilst the impassive, muscular agent Smith stood with his usual jet black glasses, crisp black suit, and huge black briefcase, not moving a muscle. He didn't say a word. Smith never said a word, unless he needed too. It was in rural Wales, apparently. Some locals had seen sights. Of course, masses of people had seen sights. Champion flying overhead, Y Derwen planting himself in their back garden, on a glittering display of lights that could only be Lucy Diamond. But this was a lot more persuasive than the others. The descriptions were accurate. And actually frightening. A band of travellers, a wandering woman matching Lucy Diamond, and a wholescale panic. The whole travelling community went, for want of a better word, banana's. Attacking each other, arson, self injury. Two dead, seventeen severely injured. Utter mayhem. The file on Lucy Diamond spoke for itself. "Lucy was always powerful, but a loose cannon" explained Cruxberry. "Anyone touching her was infected with some kind of madness. And she was quite short of marbles herself. Combined that with the ability to turn into a form of organic diamond..." he whistled. "Osprey and Dr Benoit...I can see their potential but they haven't earned their stripes yet. Also, I need them for another matter" he explained to Young Brittania and Synapse. "So I would like you two to look into the sightings. Lucy Diamond is not a threat, at least not directly. We just want to find answers...." he drummed his fingers and looked at Synapse. "And there is a problem" he explained. "Lucy was completely immune to psionic effects. At least as far as Headcase was concerned. Somehow she shuts them down. Probably why Headcase was so paranoid about her. Although as you know, he was pretty paranoid about everything" he conceded. "Maybe you can get through to her, maybe you can't. But you can at least try to find out what happened, see if there is any truth to the stories. See if you cant stop anybody else going crazy with that splendid head of yours" he said to Synapse, passing her the file on Lucy.
  2. Saturday, November 15th 2014 Two figures slipped into existance in the quiet woods, as if they appeared out of thin air. But nothing in this place was as it looked, as this was the mysterious, ever-shifting realm of the Fey. Truth told, a keen eye would spot the faint shimmering air that signalled the portal the girls had walked through. Again, the same observer would notice that one of the figures brought only a general resemblance to a woman. While the general shape was right, human girls didn't have the large, luminous eyes and the unnatural grace this woman possessed. Nor the strangely resonant voice she spoke with, as soon as the portal closed behind them. "And this is it, the Fey realm," Angie said, staring around. Even if she'd been here many times before, each of them had felt subtly different; bizarre and strangely familiar at the same time. "As much as I've been told, it's a sort of limbo that exists close to our reality, and yet a little out of synch with it. I can travel through here to any other place in the material plane, and open a portal back through a door or archway on the other side." A ginger cat - or at least, that's what it looked like - strut along with grace, slightly preceding Angeline. "I wil take a look around and check for any danger, milady." the cat said. It spoke with a voice that could only be described as... well... sly and cunning, and it looked extremely pleased to be able to roam the place freely. "Thank you, Oliver. But don't get too far away," Angie told her feline bodyguard, as Oliver sprinted ahead into the undergrowth. "So, what do you think of it? Isn't it beautiful?" asked Angie, twirling around and looking at her companion, her roommate Haukea.
  3. GM Monday, August 19th, mid morning... A little book store in the West End... "Good morning. May I have some service please?" The man was only a few inches over five foot, and had a considerable belly. He was dressed in a fine quality suit, and had a hat that somehow seemed to be outrageous and conservative at the same time. His cheeks were red, as were his jowls, and he sported a pair of sideburns that looked like they belonged on a safari hunter from centuries ago. "I am looking for the owner, and have handsome money!" he declared without shame. His voice was neither high, nor low, but rumbled. It was hard to say how old he was, somewhere middle aged, but young and old too, all jammed into one squat body. His hair was flecked with grey and flowed long. Beside him stood a man almost two feet taller, and considerably broader. In his case, it was with muscle rather than fat. He wore a suit and dark glasses, and had blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. If ever there was a bodyguard, this man was it.
  4. Continuing from >here. Amara Val-Ren had followed after Vince as the hologram led her from the room in which she had been awoken and into the vast chamber beyond, where seemingly endless rows upon rows of cryogenic tubes were stored in the cold air of the room. The cold no longer was bothering the Naram, as she moved over towards the nearest row of tubes, around which lights had just activated and the faint forms of her friends and comrades could be seen behind the frost on the tubes. She carefully counted the tubes as Vince moved over to a nearby control panel and began the awaking process for the other Praetorians. Just about two dozen tubes, the number of survivors she remembered from after their final battle with the Communion. And yet now they were being awoken to face the Communion once again. Amara stepped back from the tubes as she waited for the others to begin to wake. "We will want to see all information you and the Curator have regarding the Communion's advances. As well as that on any power groups that are there to oppose it."
  5. Hanover, Freedom City September 27th, 2014 Afternoon It was a day like any other in Freedom City; the sun was shining, birds were singing, and there were police vehicles pulled up in front of a shred laboratory in Hanover. Lights flashed and junior officers cordoned off the area, while other officers in body armor kept windows and doors covered. Corona observed all of this from high above and approved of the crisp movements and precision. However, she wasn’t the sort to watch trouble happen, and so before long the alien in the hardsuit had planted herself in the middle of the carefully orchestrated chaos. “I’m Corona,†she announced. “Whichever y’all’s in charge here, I’d like to take a jawin’ with him.†“Sergeant Brant.†Corona turned around and faced a tall man with brick-red skin. “And you just fell out of the sky, so hello. I don’t suppose you’re here to tell us what’s causing those noises in there?†Corona was about to ask for some clarification, when a rumbling roar split the noonday street. She turned and watched as a great bulk eclipsed several windows -- at once -- before moving on. “Yeah, that thing. I don’t suppose you know what that thing is?â€
  6. Centauri Prime, Lor Orbital City near Alpha Centauri 2 November 14, 2014 (Terran Calander) Lor Timemark 1316.2 (mid-morning) The news of the destruction of Lor-Van had spread quickly throughout the Republic and surrounding space beyond. In the days that had followed, refugees had poured into Centauri Prime and the other orbital cities around Alpha Centauri 2, beings displaced from a number of planets by the advance of the Communion. As if the increased crowds in the city had not made things difficult enough, a large number of the Lor security forces in the region had been transferred to help counter the Communion threat. For Yukiko, the influx of beings into the orbital city had meant an increase in her freelance work, as various systems were pushed beyond their normal limits by the increased population. She also found side “hero†work increase some as well, as the additional numbers of beings coupled with the decrease in security forces had led to an increase in criminal activity. Today the young Inghetat was making her way through the mid-morning crowd along the main pedestrian walkway through the central plaza of the orbital city. Several small buildings lined either side of the plaza, filled with various shops and food establishments. The plaza was brightly lit, a massive transparent dome set over this section of Centauri Prime, allowing abundant natural light into the section of the city from the system's star. Larger buildings loomed around the plaza, some rising up near the top of the dome. So far the day had been rather slow paced for Yukiko. She still had a few hours before she had to report for a new assignment, so she had had time to run a few errands this morning.
  7. GM Kingston, October 12, 2014, 10:30 P.M. The case was only a day old, and already it had achieved a certain level of notoriety- partially due to the bureaucratic tangle that had piled up in the past 24 hours. The FCPD had called in the Federal Bureau of Investigation fairly quickly... and then, unfortunately, once the media had gotten a hold of the story, information that the police had only just found out- that the girl had recently developed superpowers- got onto the media. And her name, Haruko Miyamoto. That, and new facts being discovered, necessitated bringing in AEGIS. And, after further investigation, the three agencies managed to determine that they needed even further outside assistance. Namely, some sort of mystical assistance, but that would take time. And time, quite often, was in short supply during cases like this. Which lead to the Miyamoto residence, late at night, with two cars parked outside, and a fairly-heavily build man standing outside, waiting to see if any heroes would investigate the story. It wasn't ideal, but... Well. In cases like this, any competent help would be appreciated.
  8. GM June 6th, 10:00pm The Freedom City Subway... At this time, the subways were not exactly full. Well past rush hour, and that time after people had gone out for the evening, but before they came home. It was a twilight hour, busy enough, but not busy. A group of ten or so people were standing, waiting for the next train. They were of all types, colours, creeds, from a kid of seventeen to a man of seventy. Some were well dressed, some where barely dressed. About the only thing that was common was nervousness. A pacing, a sweat, a fidgeting. Furtive glances. They were lead by a man with grey hair and grizzled features, tall, but not freakishly slow. Slim but fit. With hard blue eyes, a trenchcoat, a hat, a thick sturdy folded umbrella (despite the lack of rain) and a very visible, slightly worn, crucifix around his neck, on a chain. Another time, such silverware may have made for an attractive target to any subway mugger. But on this day, the man who was wearing it gave of an aura of strength that would deter such foolhardiness. "All Death must Die" he swore, solemnly, as the train arrived. His followers repeated, with less conviction and gravity than the man. "And Death is here...I feel it" the man added, entering the subway car. All this was just about to come. And came to Bloodline is a vision of the future...
  9. Saturday, May 3rd, 2014 Later morning DeCosta High School, Freedom City The crowd had swelled beyond the gymnasium's bleachers, leaving many spectators standing on the basketball court or out in the hallway. The low murmur of conversation was an effective white noise, but the young girl perched on a top row was still able to pick out a few strains of conversation. "... Hope I can ask him about the tax on... " "... Wonder what he was thinking when he voted for... " "... Just who is running against him, again?" "... Whatever happened to his son after that fight with... " The Tona Baudin winced and purposefully turned away from that last one. It was more than a year ago that her robotic duplicate had tried to kill Aaron Walsh, and had then turned that same homicidal programming on her friends and allies. She had since repaired those relationships, but now the Congressman was back in town on the campaign trail, which her friends insisted had nothing to do with killing people. Still, Tona was making sure that no one else was going to try and attack Representative Walsh this time. She turned up the hood of her dark green hoodie with a fletching design and settled into her seat. Walsh was supposed to be out at any moment, and this town hall meeting was supposed to go on until past lunch, so she had to be ready to wait all day.
  10. November 10, 2014 A hyperlight signal crossed the vast interstellar network, ricocheting off Lor communications stations a moment before the stations were deluged by word of the apocalypse that had befallen the homeworld. Further and further out into the Orion Arm it went, passing by the populated worlds of the galaxy as it headed into a remote galactic backwater that held one insignificant yellow dwarf and a small system of eight planets. It hit the unmanned station the Lor had left in Pluto orbit decades earlier and headed in one last burst for Earth, passing by the Lighthouse and heading straight for its source - Archetech. In a darkened laboratory, Sharl Tulink arrived on his hands and knees, screaming. "NO!" Instinctively, he reached out mentally into the surrounding network, both the building's power grid and the computers all around him. The lights flared up at his command and the computers came to life, the primitive technology and raw naturalism of Terra a sharp contrast to the sterile, doomed world he'd left behind him. As the Terran computers booted up, Sharl fought the natural urge to dive directly into their systems and not stop running through that primitive wireless network until he reached the familiar confines of Tronik - but of course that wouldn't really solve anything, would it? Instead, he raised his head and got up off the floor - though of course being a holographic projection he'd only barely been on it in the first place. He reached out into the surrounding network of the city and called a familiar number. "Gina!" he called, remembering old distress signals easily enough. "Code 404!"
  11. June 5, 2014 Namibia The private hunting reserve had been hidden carefully by the Crime League - or rather, by Orion, the League's huntsman. For a substantial cash infusion, or a 'favor to be named later', League members, supervillains, criminals, or simply the unscrupulous rich (which often fell into the earlier categories, depending on how you felt about it) could come to southwest Africa and hunt creatures as they saw fit. This could mean endangered animals like gorillas and elephants, exotic alien animals taken from far-away planets by the Crime League's stellar allies, or even extinct animals reconstructed in laboratories like the dodo or the Tasmanian Tiger. But a foolhardy guest had actually gone so far as to post pictures to the Deep Web, pictures which wound up falling into the hands of science heroes who had first tracked its location, then alerted the Freedom League, who had closed in with all the force they could muster. Orion had been defeated by Bowman in a daring bow-against-rifle duel, Blackstar had been beaten by Captain Thunder, and the day was saved... But what to do with all the animals? The League was on the case, but the story had gone beyond the League. It had become an international story in the last few days, one that had attracted significant media attention. UNISON had sent a team whose members included one of UNISON's most famous employees; Edge, the American superhero-turned-humanitarian, while the Discovery Channel (taking advantage of their connections with the League) had sent a documenary crew including Paige Cline, part of a dynamic duo of super-hosts that was unfortunately seperated today by something as mundane as a parent-teacher conference and the need to chaperone a field trip to Cleveland. The compound, located in the high desert, was built like an old-style English manor house (albeit with all the latest amenities) - the animals were in emergency housing in the shade thrown together by the League and especially by the UNISON team (thanks to Mark Lucas' special abilities), and an unusually pensive Edge was still there as the others went about their work. Mark had never really had pets growing up, and even though he knew this menagerie was made up of wild animals (some of whom would probably need to be put down), he was trying to fight the urge to take them all home with him. Instead he contended himself with volunteering, and so was currently in a rocking chair, nursing a baby wild boar that had mostly fallen asleep with its little mouth around the bottle.
  12. GM Post Since you've been approached, in secret, only a few months ago you’ve all been training to become the newest version of Claremont’s own super team the Next-Gen. The seven of you have been training to operate as both a full team and as two smaller teams imaginatively called Team-A and Team-B. And now both teams have been assigned their own mission. Team-A Riverside Park 13:20 Wednesday 2nd July 2014 Whilst Team-B seem to have been sent of what you assume is a wild adventure you’ve been assigned a much more mundane task. You’ve have been asked to investigate sporadic signals of alien origin that have been detected emanating from the park over the last couple of day. It could be nothing but things are still a little jittery after the events of last years, that even managed to affect Claremont itself...
  13. "Stories?" Eden Espadas inquired with a hopeful inflection as she ducked her head under her aunt's elbow and pulled herself up onto Ellie's lap to get a better look at the medical text open on the table in front of them. With a small laugh, Ellie shifted the toddler about into a safer position. "Not exactly, Edie. Y'know how tu papa teaches people here? This is how I learn how to be a doctor." She'd set herself up at a deck on the dojo's first floor partly so that she could take advantage of the light coming in through the large front windows and partly so she could keep an eye on her niece as she played on the pads covering most of the floor. Chris had also mentioned something about coming by to work on the security systems in the headquarters hidden in the converted bomb shelter under their feet and with her brother and sister-in-law out celebrating their anniversary she wanted to watch the door in the meantime. Eden looked equally skeptical at the idea of a book that wasn't for stories as she did about her aunt being a doctor. She liked Ellie, after all, and she knew she didn't enjoy visiting the doctor much at all. She could only assume it was another case of an adult trying to be funny. They did that a lot.
  14. August 1, 2014 Midnight Manor 5 AM The ball of water smashed into the grounds of Midnight Manor like a tidal wave, water erupting outward and down as the artificial sphere produced by a hasty mass teleport collapsed under its own weight in a mini-tsunami. The water smashed across the lawn and flooded the flower beds, smashed against the first floor windows on the north side (which were luckily closed) and flooded the pool. In the center of the vast wet spot on the completely drenched lawn, a bedragged Mark Lucas and Nina al-Darsah were crouched protectively over an unconscious, bloody woman in a torn blue and white outfit like something from a Victorian's painting of a Middle Eastern harem. She looked bad, like someone who'd been grabbed in a giant's fist, and was covered in blood. "<-STEN TO ME!>" Nina was in the middle of screaming; the only water still standing the head-height inch-thick wall she was holding up between them and an invisible assailant. Her formal Socotran dress was ruined, even royal-made waterproof blue and white cloth torn to ribbons and hanging bedraggedly off her body, as if she'd been tossed into a waterfall and come out the other side. Mark wasn't panicking, really; he'd been in crises far worse than this, but as his soaking wet suit and tie erupted into his costume in a flash of light he was certainly far more focused than he usually was. "He's far away, and we have to get her to a hospital right now." He looked up, bloodstains on his hands from where it pooled on Fatima al-Darsah's skin like juice from a squeezed grape. "This is bad; I don't...I don't know how to fix this!" he said, a moment before he yelled "T-Midnight! Wander!" Pacing around the scene, her eyes still out for danger that was thousands of miles away, the princess of Socotra kept moving. "It doesn't make any sense," said Nina desperately, pulling her hair loose so the black strands poured down, soaking wet, past her shoulders. "Why would he do this, why would he just..." "Nina, please, I need you to help me with this!" Mark snapped. "I can't do this alone!" Torn out of her fugue by her boyfriend's urgency, not to mention the crisis of the moment, the princess went to help tend the bleeding woman who twenty minutes earlier had called her Daughter...
  15. Fox

    A Simple Job

    Lor Space The Unseen Ocean - interstellar transport vessel All was quiet on The Unseen Ocean - and, really, it had better have been for what people at this end of the massive vessel paid for the trip. The middle-class got the midship and the proles got pods and benches back by the engines, but this section, near the bow, was all high-rollers and corporate contracts. In fact, even the halls outside the multi-room suites were silent and nearly empty - a lone few employees, impeccably dressed, made their way through the smooth metal and plastic archways to keep everything invisibly supplied and anonymously clean. All of which, unfortunately, made the woman who stepped out of one of the corporate suites stand out like a sore thumb. A bellhop stopped cold, fins along the side of his head extending in surprise as he stared - her already unacceptably-dyed hair was disheveled, her would-be faultless uniform torn in places and discolored near the shoulder in what could have been her own blood if she'd had any visible wounds. A slow clicking sound drew his attention downward, to the segmented tail that was slowly curling out from between the door and its frame as she flashed a winning smile and tried to close the door. The door stopped short of its frame, stuck on the arm of someone who - at the sudden sensation of their limb getting hit by a closing aperture - made a disoriented and not-quite-conscious groaning sound. "Ah - no tickets," the woman explained, flashing her smile again and none-too-gently kicking the hand out of the way so that the door would shut. She picked up a heavy, ornate case from where she'd set it down, quickly brushing past the young man on her way aftward. The bellhop reached for his commlink. "I've got the cabin package, Rock, but we're probably blown. We've only got a few minutes before an alarm gets hit and security starts crawling out of the walls." Eclipse tore what was left of the uniform off, exposing a far more practical jumpsuit underneath and putting some extra energy in her stride as, all around her the lights went red and a low klaxon sounded. She reached up to her ear with her free hand to adjust the volume on her communicator. "....maybe less. Please tell me things went cleaner on your end."
  16. Rita Kord Dormitory, Claremont Academy. Saturday, October 18th, 2014, 4:05 pm Casey Blankenship stood in the third floor hallway, surrounded by three suitcases and hefting a huge backpack; her blonde hair was practically up and out of the way, and she wore a red flannel shirt, jeans and light hiking boots. She adjusted her glasses out of habit as she looked up and down the hallway; each door looked exactly like the next, other than the cork-boards used for leaving notes or adding decoration. She fidgeted with her brand-new school ID with its magnetic stripe; the RA had been very specific about the rules if you ever lost your ID. Just get it over with, Case; you'll be fine. She swiped the card through the lock, the little light went green and she pushed the door open; inside, the room looked comfortable but quite barren without any personal belongings in it yet. Without any real preference, she unslung her pack and dropped it on the left-hand bed as she pulled in her wheeled suitcase, leaving the rest out in the hall for now. A quick peek out the window revealed a view to the northwest; the back of the Carter Dorm, a few trees and the athletic field off in the distance. I guess when I'm bored, I could always watch a game from here...assuming we actually get to play any sports...
  17. GM Friday 2nd May, late afternoon... The offices of the Ledger... "Hey beautiful, can I buy you dinner?" Marcus Lane was his name. He was a young man with chiselled looks, a mop of slightly unruly blonde hair and bright blue eyes the female staff often swam in. He wasn't the best dressed, the tallest or the broadest guy in the building, but he had a natural charm and cheekbones you could chop vegetables in. At the end of the week, the staff were winding down after five gruelling days of writing and reporting. Marcus was high on coffee, as always, and never stopped smiling or running low on gas. He thrust a takeaway cup of Dancia's favourite beverage into her hand. How did he know what to buy? A bit of observation, a bit of interest... "I know this great Thai place, just 10 minutes walk. I'll buy!" he added, confident and bristling with energy.
  18. Since you've been approached, in secret, only a few months ago you’ve all been training to become the newest version of Claremont’s own super team the Next-Gen. The seven of you have been training to operate as both a full team and as two smaller teams imaginatively called Team-A and Team-B. And now both teams have been assigned their own mission. Team-B Moffat Morphology Headquarters, Hanover 10:00 Wednesday 2nd July 2014 Moffat Morphology is one of those companies that seems to exist mostly in Freedom City. Using a combination of advanced polymers and nanotechnology they have developed technology that allow creation almost any tool imaginary with only simple computer control. Recently however there have been several baffling breakins of other hi-tech companies where the only evidence left on the scene was a polymer similar to that developed by Moffat’s. Helpfully the company is proud to offer tours of it’s facilities for budding young students so you’ve been assigned to investigate to find out if the company is in anyway involved in these robberies. Next-Gen isn’t the only one investigating this company for possible criminal activity. In one of those strange coincidences Alexandria Watson, aka Somnium, is also investigating the company after a half remembered mention of possible dubious activities connected to her families collapsed criminal empire. Detail are hazy beyond the simple mention of there name, it could be nothing... A small group of students, including yourselves, are gathered in the lobby of the company where you are met by a rather keen young woman in a sharp business suit, her red hair done up in severe bun. “Hello there and welcome to Moffat Morphology. I’m Gillian and I’ll be your guide to today’s trip. If you’d just like to follow me...â€
  19. Edges of Grue Unity Space Lor Timemark 1312.4 "Perimeter Vessel Theta-Theta-Gamma reporting all quiet," the Grue Metamorph named Dul'ce sighed, repeating the same message he'd been sending back to command twice a cycle for the entire duration of his posting. Cycle after cycle of staring at a field of stars, empty apart from a patch of asteroids or the occasional comet, lightyears away from anything to conquer or infiltrate or even just observe, just the arbitrary border of Unity controlled space past which there was simply nothing worth claiming. It was busy work of the highest order, that was the worst of it, Dul'ce reflected as he melted back in his chair, dejectedly allowing his form to become slightly liquid. The Meta-Mind could have easily focused on his thoughts, just like any of the Grue, if it truly wished to know what was happening on the frontier. The twice-cycle reports proved that it was simple bureaucracy, a tick in a ledger that no Grue would ever bother reviewing once it was logged. "Pull yourself together, Navigator!" a sharp voice barked, causing Dul'ce's outer layer to go spiky in surprise. The only other Metamorph on the vessel and his commanding officer strode onto the bridge, flanked by a pair of drones. Faa'et had taken to making his form a little taller and broader at the shoulder since his promotion and Dul'ce might have sworn his chin was even a little more square, though he couldn't imagine for whom Faa'et was making the effort. "I don't tolerate loose shifting on the Double-Theta Gee!" Dul'ce hid another sigh. The Unity didn't bother naming its vessels like lesser species and for good reason. Faa'et's attempts to give the scout ship a nickname were ridiculous, though the navigator never would have said so aloud. Just thinking that was about the captain would have been bad enough if Faa'et had ever bothered to read anyone's thoughts apart from his own. "Apologies, Captain. I was just finishi-- eh?" On the console in front of him a green dot blinked on, floating through nearby space before changing direction and heading toward them.
  20. Gizmo

    Growth Rings

    The morning sunlight streaming through the window of the modest apartment above the Espadas School School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship took on pale renditions of the vividly hued flowers growing across the window sill and up the sides of its frame. The plants were flourishing despite the lingering chill of early spring and the curtains were open to allow the cascade of light to gradually work its way across the floor, over rumpled bedsheets and finally across the eyelids of the slumbering couple. Ever the light sleeper, the leisurely way Erik Espadas opened his eyes belied the quickness with which he was alert, consciously choosing to luxuriate in the softness of the bed and the warm tangle of copper toned arms and legs wrapped around his own. Minerva's flowing white mane was practically a second blanket all on its own but with her lithe form pressed close against him Erik never would have noticed a draft anyway. He opened one eye wide enough to watch the familiar metronome twitch of her delicately pointed ear, in sync with the heartbeat in his chest and finally risked shifting from his immensely comfortable position to kiss the tip of the ear. Settling back down he rolled slightly to pull his wife further on top of his bare chest, lined and dimpled with faint scars, and murmured with feigned concern, "You know, Mrs. Espadas, I'm beginning to suspect this isn't a one night stand at all."
  21. Ari

    Night Rings

    GM November 11, Monday, 4.50PM the city of Algeciras, Cadiz province, Spain Algeciras is easily one of the world's busiest ports. Connecting the shipping of Africa, the Americas and Europe meant the city was a hive of activity, and the three newcomers from America had seen plenty of evidence of that just from the plane. Down on the streets that feeling was compounded. The air rang with voices from a dozen nations, the roads hummed with traffic racing across the metropolis, and along with the sharp smell of the sea were the deep scents of petrol, metal and lots and lots of cheerfully sweaty people strolling, jogging, running and generally moving on the long trek of their lives. The coffee house Corbin's contact, an archaeologist with an at least cursory knowledge of the arcane world, had asked to meet them in was hardly a respite. It buzzed with the chatter of its patrons, the strong, thick coffees made every breath aromatic and the intricate carvings that passed over every corner of the ceiling, the myriad of pictures and beautiful sea view from the windows ensuring that if you bored of the people, the place could still entertain. It had been only around ten minutes since Tia Rojas had been late, and the minutes flew by regardless of what she was here to tell them. Cobalt Templar was always on the search for the rest of the Seven Rings of antiquity, in part to make sure they found worthy bearers in the present, and that nobody would abuse their power. Tia had heard rumors that something uncannily like the Indigo Ring had just appeared in Spain, somewhere in southern Iberia. Its wielder was impossible to make out, a patch of inky darkness that vanished into the night it never dared leave, leaving behind people stricken with lost memories only able to recall a flash of purple light. Thus, the presence of his former team mates Indira Singh(Wraith, of the shapeshifting metal species Kinigosi), and Kimber Storm(Ghost Girl, world's happiest poltergeist). Whatever this new bearer was about, it was hard to look at favorably.
  22. It was a brand-new day in every conceivable use of the word. The sun had risen barely an hour earlier, but Tona Baudin had worked hard the other day, saving her entire homeplanet, and so she had celebrated by sleeping in for a time. Of course, there was even more work to do this morning, and a lot of special people to visit. One person in particular had been her priority. Tona walked through the front door of the infirmary carrying a large mixing bowl, covered with a dish towel, lovely smells drifting out from under it as the girl's movements caused it to flutter in the breezes. She hummed a light, tuneless song to herself as she checked the various beds, until she found the one containing a slim redhead still curled in sleep. Tona set the bowl down on the nightstand next to the bed and crouched down so that her head was level with Sam's. She watched her girlfriend slumber, marveling at the look of peace on her face. Just yesterday this (beautiful, brave, clever) girl had teleported a few thousand people many miles out of danger, and it had cost her mightily. But looking at her now, Tona couldn't imagine that there was anything wrong with her, anything wrong with the entire world. She reached out and brushed Sam's hair back, resting her hand on the other woman's cheek. "Bonjour," she said softly, not wanting to disturb the rest of the patients in the infirmary. "Time to wake up, mon amour."
  23. July 14, 2014 "I'm just saying it's hard to believe the initials were an accident," the figure perched atop the three-storey apartment complex insisted. Keeping to shadows deep enough to conceal his high collared, royal blue great coat and matching bandanna mask, the West End vigilante known as Jack of all Blades spoke in a low voice as he peered down at the community center across the street, noting the comings and goings through the back door. "Hey, don't look at me, fearless leader," the smoothly cheerful baritone in his ear protested. "When it comes to acronyms, well! Those who live on glass hard drives, et cetera, et cetera!" VINCE, the Interceptor's artificial intelligence and dispatcher usually preferred to appear with his avatar when communicating with the team but for covert surveillance and earpiece beat commandeering an ATM monitor. Grunting noncommittally, Jack noticed and ultimately ignored a trio of youths starting up a pickup game of basketball on the center's court. The Vibrant Community Reclamation project had been the driving influence behind a number of similar centers throughout the city, focusing on the West End and Lincoln while making inroads into the Fens, repurposing unused buildings in what were diplomatically referred to as 'at risk neighbourhoods'. If the organization spent just as much time holding banquets and press events to pat its well heeled contributors on the back, well, the plus column still came out ahead. At least in theory. Jack had learned the hard way that looking a gift horse in the mouth was actually a pretty good habit to get into and the increased drug trafficking he and his team had been encountering in the area since the center opened had started to make the hairs on the back of his neck itch. VINCE had explained something about correlation and causation that the swashbuckling swordsman hadn't entirely followed but had agreed that the rising crime bore looking into. Without much more than a hunch to go on, he'd decided to stake out the center itself to see if a lead presented itself.
  24. 11:01 PM August 8th Riverside was a nicer part of downtown. That didn't mean much. Not to Wayward. Especially when she had dealt with a mugging with a guy who had been a wee bit too strong for his size, and seemed preternaturally agitated. He was high on something, and after a bit of a shakedown she was able to score back to a panel van in an alley. While not the most glamorous, or exotic of locations, it was a fairly smart ploy. As hiding almost in plain site, in a spot where a normal business' delivery van would be. It took a few hours, but she managed across it. Nestled back in an alley, and without really much of a line, it was subtle and obvious at the same time. Had she not known to look for it, she might not have noticed it. Yet, here she was.
  25. GM Newtorch station, Inner Oort Cloud, Sol System Second orbit, fifth day, April 15th, 7.30AM Earth time. A brilliant crystal lance sailed through the void, mighty donut-shaped rings spinning endlessly around the haft, housing the several hundred scientists, staff, and guards keeping safe the future of Lor technology. There they lived and worked in strict, regular shifts, coming and going, eating and sleeping to refresh their tireless dedication. A phalanx of ships patrolled far outside the sight of any being, searching unceasingly for any sign of an approaching threat. At the lance's tip was a white diamond, where the force field was strongest and the gunnery lines were thickest. The size of several battleships welded together, that was where the most dangerous part of the station's mission was kept. Newtorch station was one of several throughout the Republic, uncovering new ways to draw energy from the world and power the bustling interstellar civilization. They often ended up examining things strange and powerful enough that risking star systems was all too possible. Inevitably they ended up on the fringes of inhabited space, far from either help or victims. Thefts were possible too. But the sheer danger tended to keep everyone away. Except, of course, the daredevils. "Next shift incoming, sir!" called out the surveillance monitor "and none too soon!" "Just the facts, Bey." replied the station captain with a wry twist of his purple lips. Hands clasped behind his back, the stubby Lor watched the small, regularly spaced dots draw near and allowed himself a slight note of self-praise: nothing had happened that had endangered the crew, the only faulty source had been safely ejected and destroyed, and they had a marvelous new subject: the gem from Sirius. It could power an entire fleet if they could get the transferal right, and then... "Bey, how many ships are in that convoy?" The sudden edge in the officer's voice got a puzzled look, and a quick response "Eleven, sir. Usual number-" "That's one too few! Alert the ships, tell them there's an infiltrator!" 'Sri Steward of Earth, you have an incoming message.' Mentor's voice had all the warmth and wisdom that came from the unthinkable eons it had seen, but it was still as commanding as a drill sergeant, clear as ice and cut Kyle off from sleep like a knife. 'Blockade Fleet Admiral Kalf has urgent news, and a request. Your system is in great danger.'
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