Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'ic'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Welcome to Freedom City
    • Campaign Discussion
    • Character Building
    • Character Bank
    • Freedom City News
  • The City of Freedom
    • Downtown Freedom
    • North Freedom
    • South Freedom
    • West Freedom
    • Other Areas Around Freedom
  • The World of Freedom
    • The Lands Beyond
    • The Worlds Beyond
    • The Realms Beyond
    • Non-Canon Tales
  • Out of Character Discussion
    • Off-Panel
    • Archives

Categories

  • Getting Started
    • Templates
    • About the Site
  • People of Freedom
    • Player Characters
    • Non-Player Characters
    • Super-Teams and Organizations
    • Reputations in Freedom
  • Places of Freedom
    • Freedom City Places
    • Earth Prime Places
    • Interstellar Places
    • Multiversal Places
  • History of Freedom
    • Events
    • Timelines
    • People
  • Objects of Freedom
    • Items
    • Ideas

Categories

  • Player Guide
  • House Rules
  • Sample Characters

Calendars

  • Community Calendar

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


Interests

  1. GM Saturday 4th August, after sundown... Mrs. Fairfield was an old woman, nearly eighty and looking every inch of it. She was still of reasonable height, and weight, but was stooped over and walked with a stick. Her hair was completely white, tied back, and reading glasses tumbled from a chain around her neck. There was something sprightly in her eyes, despite her venerable body. Something that spoke of a sparkling youth. The speculative soul, on examining her would wonder about just how handsome and attractive she would have been decades ago, for there was the remnant of youthful beauty still. She stuck to the main streets, gripping her stick, and scowling at anyone she thought might mug her. She wouldn't normally roam the streets. But the dreams.... Something was up, of that we was sure. Ever since that Russian Priest had come in, all polite. Knew a lot. Asking about all sorts of stuff from her shop, and religion, and magic. She prided herself on having a firm academic base, but that man knew more than she ever would... And then, he was asking about Ghosts. Said he wanted one. No...he needed one. Yes, that was his words. He needed a Ghost... And then came the dreams. Vivid, magical dreams, exciting and terrifying at the same time. A dream of a girl... There! She stopped and stared at the youngster on the street. Peering at her with an open jaw. Just like the dreams!!! She approached the young girl. "Excuse me, dear..." she said, politely, her fingers tapping on her stick. "I know this sounds, well...senior..." she laughed. "But I have the sensation I know you. I have...dreamed of you..." she explained, rather awkwardly.
  2. 4:56 PM Tuesday, July 3rd, 2012 Claremont Academy, Bayview, Freedom City The city had been in the grip of a heat wave for a full week now, and the weather service wasn't forcasting any relief until the weekend. The dark sedan rolled up the baking, two-lane road towards the walled compound that held one of the city's most prestigious secondary schools. It slowed as it reached the walls of the academy, turning in and quickly finding a parking space. A casually dressed young man and a young woman with a tan climbed out of opposite sides of the car; the young man opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a packed duffel bag and a heavy rolling bag. He set them up next to the young woman and nodded at her. "I'll go get a teacher," he said. "Let them know you're here." With that he struck off towards the central building. The young woman's stooped and hefted the duffel without comment, then dragged it and the luggage into the shade of a nearby tree. She looked around the campus slowly, but aside from a few students walking around (and doing their best not to stare at the new arrival) there wasn't much to see. All the windows facing the quad made her nervous, but it had been mentioned over and over again that she shouldn't attack anyone at Claremont, at least until they asked her to. After a few minutes of standing, shifting her weight from side to side, the young woman dug a length of string from a pocket. She knotted it into a circle and draped it over both hands, pulling it taunt before beginning a complicated cat's cradle.
  3. GM The spirits were different. Or at least - appeared - different. Both of them were women. Both of them were the incarnate spirit of some idea, some land. Victory and Justice. Perhaps they were one and the same, perhaps not. Even the two superheroes which served each spirit, El Heraldo and Young Britannia, were not privy to their true nature. No doubt a thousand other such spirits (or aspect of one) existed, some given manifest form, some not. However, only two superheroes of these spirits were in Freedom City at this point. And they were chosen. For the message was the same. "I call upon you. Another force like I stirs, but a force malign. The spirit of Lemuria, the serpent empire. It is the spirit of slavery, and cruelty, and dominance. It's chains could break the world... In the War of this land, it was defeated, But now, history may be rewritten... Without talking, speaking, or hearing, somehow both heroes knew where to look. Freedom City Library. The cults of the American Civil War. By Professor James Bottle
  4. Friday 22nd June 2012 Blodeuwedd couldn’t contain her excitement. Finally after all these months she was called upon to do the job she had been trained for. One of the Orders associate members called Nash had asked for her to visit him at a prearranged location to deal with an issue with a recently discovered artefact. It was laughably easy to sneak out of Claremont’s academy, she sometimes suspected they allowed people to do that as long as they didn’t get caught, to the little apartment she maintained as part of a carefully constructed cover story. Tonight she wasn’t Blodeuwedd, or even Cerys, no tonight she was Ellis Bextor a 21 year socialite and party goer. She inspected her look one last time before leaving her apartment. Her hair had been styled in one of the latest fashion she’d seen in a fashion magazine. Her body suit had been transformed into the classic little black dress, just the right side of decent, whilst she had decided on boot’s rather than heels to hide a few throwing knives, just in case. Her cloak was doing a much more vital job, currently invisible it concealed Dyrnwyn her sword. Finally she popped her goggles and a reasonable amount of spending money and she was ready for the night.
  5. August 10th, 2011 Lincoln 12:11 AM Freedom City was a prosperous burg, a shining city of progress and opportunity. In recent history, the cleaning up of the Fens was often touted as an example of how things were getting better. But for the citizens living in Lincoln, time might have decided to stand still. This was very evident late one night (so late it's early in the morning, as the joke went) on a corner deep in the neighborhood. The building was a glass-walled box that had changed hands between various entrepreneurs; at the moment it was a Qwik-'n'-Buy. Something things always stayed the same, like the high school kid manning the counter at such a late hour -- and the four other teenagers with big guns, wearing ski masks. The two with shotguns (one pump, one sawed-off double-barrel) were keeping the cashier covered while he emptied the register; the pair with pistols (one revolver, one Walther PPK knock-off) were ransacking the shop, showing a distinct preference for TV dinners and alcohol.
  6. The Pine Barrens Thursday, January 4th, 2012 2:32 PM In all honesty, Cannonade could think of better places to be on a Thursday afternoon off from work. Walking down the Boardwalk, or getting a coffee and snack at the Black Petal. But here he was, flying in a helicopter over the Pine Barrens, looking for strange trees. Then again, he had to thank AEGIS for getting him out of work in the first place. They'd called him up with the assignment, and one call to the steel mill later - apparently cellulitis was the hot thing this year for sick day excuses - he had the next few days off, fully compensated. Which meant he was waiting for the other shoe to drop when Commander Grayston, who'd put him on the Nina al-Darsah job earlier in the year, swung by his apartment. "Aerial surveillance over the Barrens caught these a few days ago," Grayston had said, tossing a folder Joe's way. He'd picked it up and flipped through it. First was a photo from the sky, of a seemingly endless row of the famous pine trees of the Barrens -- only the needles were ash gray, and falling out in clumps on some trees. Next came photos from the ground, depicting the trees in more detail. The branches seemed to have grown in upon themselves, swelling until they burst or wrapping around themselves, and the trunks had turned the same pale color as the needles. A before-after picture, complete with time stamp, showed an AEGIS agent, clad in an NBC suit, taking an axe to one tree -- and felling it with one chop, as a large chunk of the base seemed to turn to dust with the impact. "...so, what, really local forest fire?" Cannonade had asked. "Budding firestarter?" "There was no chemical evidence of a forest fire -- no smoke traces, nothing. And unless this theoretical pyrokinetic could shut off his own fires, the damage would have spread farther than this. No, we've seen something like this before. Farmland around Salem, Massachusetts, 1927. Something fell onto a local settlement, spreading effects similar to the fallout of a nuclear explosion... only much more concentrated and with more mutagenic properties." "Great. Nukes. Mind telling me what this thing was?" "If we knew, we'd tell you. The phenomenon... vanished, just as quickly as it appeared. All any eyewitness could describe it as was a 'color,' similar to the Northern Lights. In any case, this seems to be the highest burst of damage from whatever it is - odds are that was the impact site - but we did find subtle evidence of a trail leading east. It's only a matter of time before this thing finds civilization." "And you want me to go in before it gets there," Cannonade had said. "All right. Mind if I make some calls?" The rest of the Liberty League had come out at the call - well, except for Ace Danger and Bombshell, who were still tied up in some sensitive business in Saudi Arabia - and, attended by more than a few AEGIS technicians, they scanned the Barrens from the air, looking for some sign of whatever was prowling through the woods, spreading blight as it went.
  7. 14 April 2012 The weather is nice today, Eve thought as she looked out across the Great Bay. It was a fleeting thought, and only a momentary distraction from the anxiety gnawing at her, for guests would be arriving soon. Eve was never one for drawing attention to herself--the few friends she had knew she preferred to be the quiet, unseen hand in the background--but there were certain things she was unable to avoid. Unavoidable, perhaps, but not immutable. By floating out an invitation to her friends and teammates, and most importantly Etain, Eve was able to neatly sidestep the preconceived notion of what an eighteenth birthday party for someone of her wealth and status should be like. Taking things into her hands would allow the Martel heiress to do things her way. That thought brought a smile to her face as she slipped back into her room then headed down the stairs, guests would be arriving soon, after all.
  8. GM The address of "the Master" was in Lantern hill, near to the cemetery, and not far from St. Stephens Church. the buildings here were old, very old, and very beautiful, full of class and distinction, with a Victorian flavour. They were, almost certainly, extremely expensive. The Address lead Revenant to a particular delightful, tall house, not quite a mansion, but spacious, with a garden. It had a slightly tumbledown appearance, with an overgrown garden peppered with rubbish and bricks. Its chimney filled the air with a plume of smoke - someone had a fire going inside.
  9. GM Thursday, March 15 10:15am Tracey Feldman glanced down and reached for the dial on her car radio as a particularly annoying song started to play. She turned the volume down, then looked up in time to see traffic screeching to a halt in front of her. Panicked, she jammed her foot down on the brake, but the wheels of her Toyota just locked up. Unable to stop, she crashed solidly into the back of a Peugeot sedan. The accident started a chain reaction in moments the mid-morning traffic in the North End district turned to gridlock behind a 6-car pileup. As drivers climbed out of their cars to argue, yell and fuss over the damage the cause of the accident became clear. A little further down the road a white Courier's van on its side, the front section of the vehicle a smouldering ruin with tendrils of black fire still writhing around the engine bay. Hovering above the wrecked van floated a robed figure, wreathed in similar black fire. With his arms folded across his chest he surveyed the carnage impassively. Atop the rolled van stood another robed and hooded figure. Holding the injured Courier driver by the scruff of his neck in an impressive display of strength the villain cut an imposing figure and stood with a menacing posture that seemed to dare any of the onlookers to intervene. The back door of the van was also open and a third robed figure was inside rummaging through the the packages and boxes, obviously searching for something in particular.
  10. May 4 2012 After all the exhaustion of the last few months, it had been a welcome relief for Mark to get invited to the get-together at the Socotran Consulate for Nina's brother Morakot. Or be informed by Nina over breakfast that they'd be attending, anyway. "Personally, I never thought Morrie was going to get married," she told Mark breezily as she sat back in her chair and drank her dark, strong-smelling Arabian coffee with a thoughtful expression. "But he's nearly forty now and he's not getting any younger. Father does value family, and he does control the purse strings. You can't be a gentleman bachelor forever, not and enjoy the lifestyle of a prince of Socotra." Morakot al-Darsah, Mark knew, had been something of a playboy in years past, his dark skin, good looks, and well-groomed mustache making the wealthy prince a star of the tabloids of a previous generation: he'd even once squired Princess Diana around. He'd made it a point to be up to date on Nina's family after they'd started dating. "So he's announcing his engagement here in Freedom City? He must be marrying somebody local." He put his mind to the thought of all the eligible women in town interested in marrying a handsome prince, but there were too many possibilities. "And you don't know who, or you'd have told me already." That got him one of Nina's more predatory smiles. Mark had the idea Nina didn't always appreciate it when he was clever, but she seemed to find it interesting all the same. "You seem to have my number, Mr. Lucas. Anyway, yes, it is a mystery! He's been out of the public eye lately, you see, going to all those clubs of his and spending Father's money like it's made of water. So Father has used his influence with the consulate to make sure you and I both have tickets to the soiree next week. The better to keep an eye on my errant brother, and to make sure he's not about to disgrace the family." "A courtly evening with you? I'd be honored," said Mark with a wink. "You should wear that black dress of yours, the one that shows..." He demonstrated with his hands, and Nina laughed. "I can get my good suit." Sobering a little, he added, "We should bring Trevor and Erin too. They're smart and they're observant, and they're good in a crisis." Very good, as it happened, but there was no need to dwell on the fine details in front of someone who wasn't in their circle of trust, even if she was in his. Kind of. It was complicated. "Your schoolmates. Yes, hmm, I remember them." Nina and Mark had never actually discussed where those superheroes had come from when the Nazi transdimensional assassin had come to kill her for her father's defiance. "All right, I'll make sure there are two tickets..." That evening, with Nina off at her late-night class, Mark called Trevor's 'workphone', figuring that if he got lucky, he'd catch Erin and Trevor together. And as it happened, he did!
  11. April 2012 Steve Murdock didn't have a lot of friends, which was really no surprise. It wasn't that he was anti-social so much as social and he simply weren't on the same team. Of course, that meant when it was time for something important, as in subtly finding out how he should go about pursuing a romantic relationship with his new girlfriend, he had a difficult task before him. Though watching television had taught him a great many things about how the people of Earth-Prime socialized with each other, as had occasional invisible observation, he just didn't know enough. He did know some things, however; a man looking for advice on women certainly never went to his female friends, so Miss Americana, Fleur de Joie, and Dragonfly were out; he'd have to talk to the men he knew like Jack of all Blades and Gabriel. He knew how men were supposed to talk to each other, in smoky bars where sporting events were playing on the television, but one thing he didn't know was how to contact all the people he cared about directly. He'd made a conscious effort to avoid learning the secret identities of his fellow supers, which while good for his peace of mind did make it tough when he wanted to talk to them. So instead, using the new cellphone Gina had repaired for him, he sat in a quiet corner of the bar and called the contact number he'd exchanged with Jack of all Blades after they'd had a few adventures together. This was a social call, but Jack hadn't mentioned this was a line for emergencies only. Some heroes preferred only to be called for emergencies. (Some had stressed that to him specifically) "Hello, Jack?" he said, his slightly mechanical voice sounding much more confident than the last time he'd spoken to the swordsman. "It's...Steve."
  12. Amongst all the drama, be it world-threatening or simply teenage growing pangs, it was often easy to forget that Claremont was first and foremost a place of education, albeit one with a truly unique curriculum. Given the broad spectrum of powers and abilities the students were there to hone, it simply wasn't feasible to have an expert in each and every area on staff. Instead, part of the senior students' own development involved aiding their underclassman peers where they were able. So it was that Eve Martel, the supremely talented telepath and telekinetic better known in some circles as Sage, had organized something of a study group with two of the school's junior students who both hailed from outside the United States and were versed in the application of mind over matter. While Kristin Jones, the redheaded Australian who sometimes went by Glow, had by far more raw telekinetic ability than the spectral Deceased-Canadian Kimber Storm, the gregarious Ghost Girl, the object of the exercise was in fact fine control. Eve had instructed them to meet her after afternoon classes in the campus' zen garden, a secluded and rarely visited spot free from distractions. Unfortunately, tranquility was not one of the words most commonly associated with Kimber, who bobbed up and down excitedly in the air as she arrived, the light of the waning sun washing through her translucent blue form, obscuring her outline from the right angle. Although it was a perfectly calm day, the poltergeist's hair rose and fell as though caught in an unseen wind or current. "Am I early?" she chirped eagerly.
  13. March 7, 4:30pm Even though the Manor was locked as usual, Erin’s key let her in the kitchen door, or rather the door to the largest of the many kitchens. She’d come bearing gifts, and cat as well, a sure sign that she planned to stick around for awhile. Charlie wasn’t the independent soul that his father was, and he pouted if left alone too long, even with sufficient kitten chow. Even now he wasn’t too happy sitting on her shoulder, with her hair still wet from the shower she’d grabbed after work. “Trevor?†she called, her voice echoing in the silent hallways of the Hunter Estate. “Are you home yet? I brought a pizza!†Pausing at the counter, she filled Charlie’s food and water dishes and left him to dig in.
  14. April 2012 It's a typical day at Hallomen's Advanced Experts. The boss is working on a consulting project sent her way from Blackstone Prison, where a seized artifact from a long-imprisoned prisoner has begun to malfunction. Dr. Gateway was briefly a terror in the early 1990s; a former archeologist whose alien battlesuit allowed him to banish his enemies into the Zero Zone, Gateway actually soloed against the Freedom League for a while before Daedalus succeeded in deactivating his stolen technology and freeing the policemen, bank tellers, and superheroes he imprisoned there. Gateway's been in jail ever since, the death of one of his early test subjects having given him a life sentence. With his suit deactivated and the man himself in jail, he had slipped out of the public eye. Until now. It's coming up on the second time the Gateway suit will become active in Mara's custody, and while she works on it, her two top security guards are hanging around in the event that the formerly dangerous piece of supertech comes to life in an inopportune moment. You can't be too careful when it comes to get sucked into another dimension. Looking confident in his security guard uniform, Steve stood by the door with Erin, drinking break room coffee from his new mug. "Your young man's blend is very flavorful," he commented to Erin as he watched Mara at work. "You should give him my thanks."
  15. Saturday, March 4th, 2012 2:42 PM Freedom Aquarium The parking lot of the Freedom Aquarium was rather crowded for so early in the year, but the blue and chrome bus with FCTA printed on the side pulled up to the curb in front of the main entrance, and two dozen young men and women of every description piled out. Moving among them, keeping order, where two older gentlemen. Leeroy Hawke was taller than most of the other people on the bus, and dressed in slacks and a turtleneck he still had an air of quiet power around him. He seemed to have an eye everywhere, reaching out to stop a bully from flicking spitballs at an underclassman one moment and the next, catching a young woman as she was knocked off her feet by the press. "Watch yourself, Kirsten," he said to the girl as he set her back on her feet. "Everyone, just take it slow! We'll have time to see all the exhibits, I promise." Jesse Perry was almost the exact opposite of his coworker. Short, with a paunch, and wearing a tweed-with-leather-patches outfit straight out of Ben Stein's closet, he has been seated near the back of the bus with Leeroy but was somehow out of the bus and on the sidewalk before anyone else. He kept both eyes on the students as they filed out of the bus, making sure no one wandered too far off. "Everyone, just keep together. We need to make sure everyone gets off the bus, first." He spotted a junior in a pea coat and jeans. "Morgan Crowe! Make sure the underclassmen don't wander off!"
  16. Freedom College, Freedom City, USA Friday, January 13th, 2012 The last class of the day had let out, at least as far as Carson was concerned. And he was glad; the first week back after winter break was always hard. The students never wanted to focus. Luckily, he'd managed to get them involved in a few simple exercises and focus that nervous energy into something other than spitballs and love notes. "Just another day in the office..." "Mister Keefe, sir?" "Hm? Oh, yes, uh...Jessica, wasn't it? What can I help you with?" "Well, I just wanted to give you this book. It's got some short skits I'd like to try doing in class this semester." "Hm. I'll take a look and see what I can work in. Let me see....That's odd. I've never heard of this author before." "You wouldn't have, not here." "What? Why...oh, my head." The contact chemical that coated the paperback took hold, and Carson started to bonelessly collapse. "Jessica" calmly caught him in deceptively small arms, before pulling out an odd-looking metal and plastic disc that she slapped on the middle of the teacher's chest, before gently laying him on the ground and gathering his papers up. The disc started to beep faster and faster, but she still had enough time to extract his keys. "I'll make sure these get put away, Sir. It's the least I can do..." And with a flash of light and a sound like tearing silk, Carson Finbar Keefe was gone from Earth Prime.
  17. Second Week of January 2012 Christmas and New Years were not a particularly meaningful holiday for Sharl, lacking a cultural understanding of the holiday and a chronological mindset that made the change between one year and the next relevant to his day-to-day life. It wasn't even like he'd gone onto a new grade at Claremont yet, something that made all this talk of school years seem terribly archaic. But things had gone pretty well for him; he'd gotten a house upgrade from Miss Americana that he was still customizing; the incredible, sinful luxury of another five rooms to himself, not to mention a simulated animal to tend to, was still something he was trying to wrap his mind around. Home and how different it was from Claremont had been on his mind lately: he'd managed a trip back home during the school holiday to visit his family in Tronik and to do some more superheroing in his home city, where the "mysterious Citizen" had gotten a chance to pull off some pretty impressive feats of derring-do, culminating in a spectacular rescue of a sinking exploratory ship on its way to visit the new set of islands Leroj had helped raise at the end of the previous month. No one on the outside had seen that, and maybe none of them would care, but he'd still felt good about it coming out. And that, he thought, had been that until Mr. Summers had summoned him and all of Young Freedom into his office the first day they were all back on campus after the Christmas break. Even with Mrs. Harcourt, by no means Sharl's favorite teacher, as their chaperone, Sharl was inordinately happy: they were going back to the Sanctum, the place that held his home, and with any luck his friends would be able to see it for themselves! With his usual laptop as his companion, Sharl put aside his house and went to work studying the school's files on the Sanctum again, heedless of the Arctic winter outside their jetplane window. After all, the Sanctum was one of the great repositories of super-tech on Earth, as well as the home of his home city: he'd better know something about it!
  18. The building wasn't much to look at, if one was being brutally honest. Like a lot of structures in the West End, it was two storeys tall, designed to be a place for business on the ground level with small living apartments on the second floor. The space for a sign was empty and evidently had been for a while if the weathering was any indication, not to mention the birds' nest tucked in between the top of the large placard and the window sill above it. The large windows were filthy enough to make them nearly opaque and the hinges on the door were probably going to need to be replaced altogether. Despite all that, the young, dusty brown haired man in the wool-lined coat standing on the sidewalk in front of it, keys spinning around his finger jauntily, grinned broadly enough to show pearly teeth as he regarded the building. "Perfect."
  19. Ellie Espadas rarely had difficulty finding things to occupy her days. Even with her natural aptitude and the considerable knowledge she'd already accrued, her pre-med course load at Freedom City University was proving more difficult than she'd honestly expected, merging into a blur of lectures, exams and papers. Thankfully her prodigious capability for memory retention saved her from spending too much time studying and reviewing, freeing her nights for racing about the rooftops of the West End as Jill O'Cure, the metamagi medic and one of the more consistent members of the ever-shifting roster of the Interceptors. Even on top of all that, she managed to squeeze in time volunteering at local hospitals and clinics, learning from experienced physicians while surreptitiously using her superhuman abilities to make a difference where she could. With all of those juggled responsibilities, it had taken considerable effort and cunning to clear her schedule for an entire day. She'd gotten a head start on essays, called in favours and swapped shifts. Not many events would have been worth the effort. Today, however, was. Today was Mara Hallomen's birthday and, arriving at the engineer's apartment in Parkside, Ellie was determined to dedicate the entire day to celebrating it properly.
  20. February 2012 Shoreline Battered and bruised, the members of the Liberty League watched as the Yamato Kaiju collapsed to the beach in a shower of burning debris, the robotic titan originally constructed by the finest engineers of the Imperial Japanese Army, circa 1943, finally defeated by the combined efforts of Freedom City's legacy super-team. Once forty feet high, capable of breathing radioactive fire and shrugging off heavy weapons fire, now it was nothing more than one more shattered legacy of World War II that had crashed against the rocks of the next generation of Freedom's heroes. It was cold on the February beach, but the brilliant red and white flames rising from the burning skin of the fallen robot dinosaur kept the more fragile heroes like Edge warm as he studied the fallen wreck. Mark wasn't one for a lot of abstract thought, but even he was moved by the sight of the fallen behemoth. (Well, mostly because while his allies had all taken their lumps against it, no one had been seriously hurt.) The Yamato Kaiju had walked across the seafloor from Truk to Freedom City, most likely going around the Straits of Magellan to avoid the Panama Canal, had survived nearly seventy years only to emerge onto the land and be beaten by the Liberty League over three long and difficult hours. "Okay, team," called Edge, stepping back from the burning dinosaur and feeling the slight ache from a near-miss that had turned into a sunburn thanks to his brush with radioactivity. "Let's-" Suddenly, up in the sky some thirty feet overhead, reality collided with reality as two shining chrome spheres the size of a Greyhound bus erupted from the same space and moment and collided with and fused with each other simultaneously. The twisted double-mass of metal came hurtling downward and smashed into the surf, just too far away for the heroes to reach before impact, kicking up a sheet of spray and sand as they landed.
  21. previously on Something Fishy GM Bessie crossed the Lindroos Bridge, passed through Kingston bringing an unusual sight to the uniform suburbs, and finally arrived in North Bay, where the houses and buildings left place for a red, yellow and brown wall, made of maple and oak trees, hiding the mansions and villas behind a barrier of autumn colors shining beautifully in the sunlight. Bessie lifted clouds of dry leaves as Steam drove her towards the ambassador’s address. The mansion called the Purple Porch appeared behind a high laurel hedge. It was a Victorian mansion, built in Queen Anne style; it was painted with a faint yellow in and growing up to two stories and an attic set below a very steep roof covered in dark tiles; Bessie seemed almost more fit to be in the yard than the Audi A8 currently parked there. The mansion was slightly below road level, built so that the back yard would end in a small beach facing Great Bay. "Purple Porch" was probably inaccurate as a nickname, though. "Giant Purple Portico" was more precise in describing how the villa greeted the guests: a large portico held by five columns, all covered in a climbing plant still brightly green, and sporting giant purple flowers as wide as Frisbee disks, in complete contrast to the surrounding flora, flowerless and covered in autumnal colors. The fine gravel cracked under the shoes as the trio got out of the car.
  22. For all its wonders, Freedom City could be a dangerous place and it was a sad fact that the metropolis was home to more than its fair share of orphaned children. Fitting for a city known for rebirth from the ashes and undying resolution, many of those orphans had grown to become wealthy industrialists, expose-writing journalists, well known photographers and so on. Their legacy meant that Freedom boasted one of the best developed and funded social services programs in the nation. Even so, there never seemed to be quite enough beds, food or cheer to go around, particularly during the holiday season. Keith LaMarr had first become aware of the Santa's Super Helpers charity through his friend Reverend Stone of Lincoln's Church of the Eternal Rock of Justice. The concept was elegant in its simplicity: local superheroes volunteered to dress up in the traditional red and white suit of the jolly elf and spend the day with underprivileged youths at Millennium Mall, bringing some cheer in their own right and drawing much needed attention to the cause at the same time. Jingling bells next to a hanging pot taken to the logical extreme - at least logical by Freedom's standards. Certain bylaws unfortunately made it prohibitively difficult to have heroes participate in their secret identities, so those who's true names were public knowledge were typically approached. It was thus that the earsplitting educator known as Wail stepped into the bustling shopping center from the temporary changing area with a fluffy brimmed hat atop his bald head and bright red across his broad chest, stroking his grey streaked beard through a black glove that matched his boots and wide, gold-buckled belt, looking at though he could shake considerably more than a bowlful of jelly with his super-dense footfalls. The other two heroes in attendance were no less eye catching. The presence of Amir Al-Misri, the high-profile billionaire playboy turned superhero, assured a substantial media presence. His reputation as an irresponsible fop and dilettante would have raised LaMarr's eyebrow more if not for the good things he'd heard about the man as Asad, the energy absorbing metahuman. Neither of them was much comeptition for sheer visual impact next to Louis Ross, the popular cartoonist who's transformation into one of his one, massive, four-armed creations was almost too fantastical to believe. Wail knew he'd seen stranger things than the genial artist's demonic appearance in his decades of experience, but he was hard pressed to name more than a few off hand.
  23. Tuesday, September 13, 2011 11:46 AM Riverside Park, Riverside The Sentry Statue was not what most people saw when they first entered Freedom City, but it was the city's most famous landmark. Almost any citizen, and certainly any hero, could have found it, which was why Liz Moya chose it for a meeting place with Young Britannia. There was a bench there, between the Statue's legs; Liz was sitting there in tan slacks and a bulky green sweater. She had told the other heroine to look for the sweater and the messenger bag she used to haul her schoolbooks around in, but with the lowering skies and colder temperatures (a side-effect, they said, of the Gorgon's approach) the outfit was eminently practical as well. The student-hero had intended to sit there and keep an eye out for the fellow light manipulator, but she wasn't always the most patient person. The young woman decided to spend her extra time studying, and at the moment was nose-deep in a history book, trying to memorize the procession of US presidents. It was a subject she personally found mind-numbing, but it was required for her coursework so she bent all of her concentration to the task.
  24. Thursday, Jan 5th, 2012 The crowd outside Fun Time Toy's main lobby had begun growing as the unveiling of their newest product line came closer. The company had managed to keep what exactly it was under wraps, using everything from harsh Non-Disclosure Agreements with their employees and contractors to false leaks declaring everything from a line of Freedom League action figures to working hoverboards. When the announcement had been opened to the public and not just to the press, demand and interest had spiked. The entry fee for the public had also included a gift basket with a random selection of the company's catalog. The speakers setup outside the entrance crackled to life. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen! Please step back from the doors and have your ticket ready. Our friendly staff will guide you to the exhibition hall where the new line as well as complementary donuts and drinks are being served," a male voice sounded over the chilled crowd.
  25. Rooftop of Floyds Bar and Grill 1st December 2011 GM He shouldn’t be doing this he thought for the hundredth time as he paced the flat roof top of the bar. From below the sound of the bar drifted up, it was shaping up to be a good night down there. He had good, well cheap, whiskey waiting for him downstairs and it would be so easy to leave and go back downstairs. But they shouldn’t have done that to Mike, yeah so he squealed, but it was just too much. A simple bullet to the head yeah, only to be expected, but not this strange mystical Mumbo-Jumbo. Hands shaking he lit himself a cigarette. So he’d just tell these heroes nothing, well maybe a hint or two about Mike…
×
×
  • Create New...