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February 2012 The team helps some stranded travelers get home. But who?

Arrowhawk and Midnight deal with Madame Marvelous's latest mayhem through stealth, guile, and cunning. Also, beating people up.

November 3, 2011 Somewhere in the Wharton State Forest Mark Lucas hated Nazis, which made it all the more awkward to be here in the middle of a growing crowd of them. His long-sleeved "Don't Tread On Me" T-shirt hid his lack of white supremacist tattoos, but his blonde hair cut very short let him look very much like an Aryan poster boy. This was not really reassuring to Mark, but this was the sort of thing you did when you took up the legacy of the greatest Nazi fighters in the world. He tried to remember his conversation with Cannonade that had brought them all there: Greta Ratner, aka the Aryan Angel, or as his UNISON file had described her "Britney Spears meets Eva Braun" was one of the most famous neo-Nazis in the country: there weren't many beautiful blonde eighteen-year-olds willing to shake their booty in the name of racial purity. But Greta had, through her own channels, approached Cannonade (the very face of skinhead superheroes) and asked for help: she was worried that her latest concert was going to be attacked by her many enemies, and that meant she needed a superhero to help. Of course it was a trap. You couldn't trust Nazis, even if they were hot blondes from the Midwest. Which meant instead of just one hero, the Liberty League was out in force! Even if Cannonade would be the only one the Nazis would be able to see in uniform. Hmming, sipping his Coke, Mark walked around the gathering crowd, looking for familiar faces.

November 11, 2011 Erin White's Apartment One of the advantages of being able to jump from continent to continent was that if you wanted to go to your friend's birthday, you could just take advantage of the Armistice Day celebrations that gave most UN employees the day off and walk right over to Freedom City. So it was that when Erin White reached the age of nineteen, her high school friend and ally against the Terminus, Mark Lucas, just headed over to her place around ten AM eastern standard time, a big package under his arm fresh from a nice store in Switzerland. They'd all exchanged addresses before they'd moved out their various ways, so it was no trouble even for the usually scatter-brained Mark to find exactly where his old ally and Liberty League comrade was living these days, for all that he hadn't visited her there. He knocked firmly, whistling a jaunty tune.

November 3, 2011 The Liberty League deals with neo-Nazis.

Edge: 26 Thirty Robot Mimes: 20

As the young man in the long black coat, beaten fedora and concealing sunglasses strode purposefully through Lantern Hill, it looked at first as though he would walk right by the Parkhurst Hotel, ignoring just as everyone else did. Instead, however, it seemed he was only traveling further up the street to get a better lay of the land around the apparently decrepit building before returning to its entrance. Trevor Hunter was quite so susceptible to the subtle suggestion of apathy rolling off of the building as the average person and he had taken pains to make sure he was in the right place. Without further pause, he knocked three times on the door, solid and sure.

While Trevor Hunter leaned against a wall of the quaint tailor shop's back room, the portly but genial Frank Jr. made a few final alterations to Wander's new uniform. With their Claremont days officially behind them, the new outfit was something Trevor had intended to have ready for Erin immediately after graduation, but with the steady stream of crises that had followed, they'd only now managed to make it in to see the portly but genial friend of the family. Fortunately Frank had already had Erin's measurements and had a very nearly completed version ready and waiting when they arrived.

Trevor Hunter stood outside the towering Parisian office building looking upward with a faint frown. The reserved young man's face was too schooled to give away whether it was apprehension, frustration or general glum despondency tugging at the corners of his mouth, but at least to the young woman accompanying him, it was clear that he was not looking forward to visitation to come. Dressed immaculately in a deceptively simple but obviously well tailored suit, the dark haired engineer certainly blended in with the bustling stock brokers and deal makers hurrying in and out of the glass doors before them, chattering loudly away on cell phones in a dozen languages, primarily French, naturally. "So," he began, turning toward Erin with a fairly transparent stalling tactic.

September 12, 2011 Not long after their meeting in Paris, Edge made his own way to the Chateau Relais, following the plans laid down by Midnight and the more experienced heroes on the team. I guess I can't really call it Young Freedom; that belongs to the Claremont kids and anyway some of them aren't really that young! He'd hidden in plain sight as a UNISON employee on break, renting a car at the Bern airport and chatting volubly with the clerk there about how great it was to be in Switzerland and how much nicer it was than his usual African posting. From there, a car ride up to the mountains had taken him to the Chateau, where the last few weeks before the first real snow of the year had left the roads empty and quiet as he drove up and up towards the Chateau at an impressive 10,000 feet. Once there, he was all the cheerful, loud American tourist, buying a jaunty Tyrolean hat and parading around in it while he butchered German for the amusement of the locals, eating a huge breakfast in the chateau's impressive dining hall adorned with hunting trophies from all over the region. There were quite a few people there already, Japanese businessmen and quiet Swiss and Germans alike, and he let them see him without a trace of apparent artifice. The more of that that was in place, the better; who could be suspicious of that loud tourist in the silly hat? He kept a close eye out for his team, however, knowing that they'd find ways to contact him once they were all in place. Of course, with some of them, they'd be obvious even to him...

North Bay September 22, 2011 While interstellar monsters weren't the specialty of anyone on the Liberty League these days, the new superteam was on high alert as the Gorgon's approach brought a dawning chaos the world. They'd only been back from Switzerland a few days, but those had been busy days for many of them between the Gorgon's coming, Edge's visit home, and of course various changes in Wander's general lifestyle. The wealthiest neighborhoods in town had so far avoided the panic beginning to gnaw at the poorer areas of the city, or at least that panic had been confined to the interiors of beautiful mansions rather than on the wide streets. North Bay, the home neighborhood of Ace Danger and the Midnights, had locally been the scene of one particular set of bizarre local disasters: localized thunderstorms had rocked the area for nearly 48 hours, flooding the streets, blowing tiles off roofs, and worst of all setting several homes ablaze as lightning strikes rocketed down from the sky in the middle of the 'North Bay storms' as the news was calling them. No one had died, yet, but several people had been hospitalized from electrical shock and at least one home, the Munoz manor near the waterfront, had burned to the ground with total loss of property. It couldn't be a coincidence, and so the new team had gathered together beneath Midnight Manor to discuss evidence and options.

September 22, 2011 Wander, Midnight, Edge, Ace Danger, Bombshell, and Cannonade get a visit from that old-time Norse religion.

Midnight II Power Level: 15 (247/250PP) [325] Trade-Offs: +2 Attack, -2 Damage Unspent PP: 3 Theme: Creatures of the Night by The Creepshow In Brief: A soft-spoken young man upholding the legacy of Freedom City’s original mystery man. Alternate Identity: Trevor Hunter Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City, North Bay Occupation: University Student (Engineering Major) Affiliations: Young Freedom/Claremont Academy (alumni), Liberty League (legacy hero) Family: Travis Hunter (Midnight I, grandfather), Ted Hunter (father), Janet Pryce-Hunter (mother) Description: Age: 21 (DoB: February, 1993) Gender: Male Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 6'2" Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black Eyes: Black Sclera With Red Irises Trevor Hunter’s height and angular features give his powerfully athletic frame an impression of leanness that suits his relaxed demeanour and dark hair just a little too long to be kept tidy. Dressing largely in subdued browns and blacks, he eschews logos and accessories, preferring plain long-sleeved shirts and jackets with a generally uncluttered appearance. His only concessions are a battered black fedora which he wears whenever convenience allows and a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses which conceal his clearly metahuman eyes. As the second Midnight, he wears a costume only slightly altered from the one used by his grandfather, starting with a lightly armoured jump-suit. Trevor has shortened the trench coat to a jacket to make it more practical for riding the Night Cycle, and added a matte black utility belt containing an array of gadgets. His featureless mask and fedora are in fact the very same ones used by Travis Hunter, although the mask’s functional elements had to be replaced. The entire costume is pitch black save for glowing red eyes. History: Shortly after the Liberty League disbanded in the late 1950s, the mysterious vigilante known as Midnight disappeared, never to be seen again. Remaining active but underground for several years, chemist Travis Hunter eventually settled down and raised a family. Though the occasional crisis would bring him out of retirement, it was never for long and always without public knowledge. The years of exposure to his ‘midnight mist’ had left a greater mark of Hunter than he realized, however. With his son forced to move often due to his job, Hunter’s grandson Trevor came to live with the now elderly, though still remarkably vigourous, chemist in his sizeable estate. This turned out to be fortuitous, for when Trevor’s metahuman abilities manifested at puberty, his grandfather instantly recognized the familiar light blocking gas he produced. Calming the confused youth, Hunter revealed to him the long abandoned ‘Midnight Manor’ hidden below their home and explained his history as a masked crime fighter. The moment the old, flickering lights illuminated the glass case containing the Midnight costume, Trevor’s fate was sealed. He knew his destiny was to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and, seeing the boy’s determination, Hunter had to agree. Trevor’s training began immediately, with the condition that he was not to venture out into the city until he earned his license and refurbished one of the Manor’s decrepit vehicles to drive himself there. To Hunter’s chagrin the mechanically inclined Trevor not only met both conditions with surprising ease, but insisted on claiming the Night Cycle as his transportation of choice. The new Midnight’s first forays into the world of super heroism caught the attention of Duncan Summers, who recognized the modus operandi of the hero who was in many ways the spiritual predecessor of the Raven. Sending his daughter out to make contact with the teen, Summers invited Trevor to enroll at Claremont Academy. With his grandfather’s blessing he accepted, eager to give a new generation of villains a very good reason to be afraid of the dark. Trevor’s time at Claremont proved to be eventful, although his most fantastic adventures as a part of Young Freedom took place in a number of alternate dimensions and timelines, affording him a continued low profile on Earth-Prime. Harsh battles developed both his superhuman abilities and considerable skills while forging friendships and ultimately romance. There can be no doubt that Midnight has come to Freedom City once more. Personality & Motivation: Trevor is outwardly reserved without being cold. He’ll smile slightly rather than laugh, and he’ll narrow his eyes rather than shout belligerently. What sense of humour he does display is bone dry, often leaving those he interacts with uncertain if he made a joke or not. Slow to anger, he has little interest in social drama and is unfailingly genuine in his sentiments. Content to let others have the spotlight, when he does speak his words carry a weight that belies his years. Fighting crime is a point of family pride for Trevor, one he takes very seriously. The exploitation of the innocent is one of the few things sure to draw a reaction from the typically demure teen, and he takes a good deal of satisfaction from utilizing fear against the villains who make it their stock and trade. Powers & Tactics: Trevor is able to produce clouds of “midnight mistâ€, the gas invented by his grandfather, at will. The mist blocks out light, plunging those caught in its wake into darkness. Initially using his specially designed goggles to see through this miasma, Trevor eventually found his metahuman physiology adapting to make them unnecessary, at the price of a disconcerting appearance. The presence of the mist saturating his muscle tissue grants Trevor a surprising durability. A quirk of his metahuman nature, arguably a secondary mutation, makes him resistant to mental intrusion and all but undetectable by telepathic means. Supplementing these powers are an array of compact gadgets secreted about the pockets of his coat and belt. Complications: Camera-Shy: Trevor prefers to remain unseen by the public; the shadows are where he does his best work. Disarmed: Trevor's coat and belt need to be removed to completely deprive him of his gadgets, but many of the individual items are hand-held, and can be disarmed as such. Don’t Touch The Hat: Don’t. Touch. The Hat. Frightening: The Midnight costume is great for scaring bad guys, not so great for reassuring civilians, especially kids. Legacy: Living up to his inherited code name means the world to Trevor. Loyalty: Trevor made some good friends at Claremont Academy. Relationship: Erin White AKA >Wander. Abilities: 10 + 10 + 6 + 8 + 6 + 10 = 50PP Strength: 20 (+5) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 16 (+3) Intelligence: 18 (+4) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 20 (+5) Combat: 20 + 12 = 32PP Initiative: +5 Attack: +10/+14 Melee Grapple: +19 Defence: +12 (+6 Base, +6 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -4/-2 Flat-Footed Saving Throws: 4 + 5 + 8 = 17PP Toughness: +12 (+3 Con, +4 Defensive Roll, +5 Protection) Fortitude: +7 (+3 Con, +4) Reflex: +10 (+5 Dex, +5) Will: +11 (+3 Wis, +8) Skills: 148R = 37PP Acrobatics 5 (+10) Skill Mastery Craft (Mechanical) 11 (+15) Disable Device 8 (+12) Drive 10 (+15) Skill Mastery Gather Information 5 (+10) Skill Mastery Intimidate 20 (+25) Second Chance, Skill Mastery Investigate 11 (+15) Knowledge (History) 6 (+10) Knowledge (Streetwise) 6 (+10) Knowledge (Tactics) 11 (+15) Knowledge (Technology) 6 (+10) Language 3 (ASL, French, English [Native], Mandarin) Medicine 2 (+5) Skill Mastery Notice 12 (+15) Skill Mastery Perform (Dance) 5 (+10) Sense Motive 12 (+15) Skill Mastery Stealth 15 (+20) Skill Mastery Feats: 41PP Attack Focus 4 (Melee) Benefit 3 (Nice Hat, Wealth 2 [Rich]) Blind-Fight Defensive Roll 2 (+4 Toughness) Dodge Focus 6 Evasion 2 Equipment 7 + 4 (Veteran Reward) Hide in Plain Sight Jack of All Trades Luck 3 Master Plan 2 Minion 11 (Veteran Reward) Power Attack Second Chance (Intimidate) Skill Mastery 2 (Acrobatics, Drive, Gather Information, Intimidate, Medicine, Notice, Sense Motive, Stealth) Sneak Attack Startle Takedown Attack 2 Well-Informed Equipment: 11PP = 55EP 5 + 4 + 5 + 21 + 20 = 55EP Strike 3 (Feats: Mighty, Subtle) [5EP] (Collapsible Escrima Sticks) Immunity 4 (Suffocation Effects, Visual Dazzles) [4EP] (Midnight Mask) Speed 1 (10mph / 100ft per Move Action) [1EP] + Super-Movement 2 (Slow Fall, Swinging) [4EP] (Grappling Hook Gun) Night Cycle (Vehicle) [21EP] Size: Medium [0EP]; Strength: 20 [2EP]; Defence: 10 [0EP]; Toughness: +10 [5EP] Features: Alarm 2 (DC 25), Computer, Communications, Disguise, Hidden Compartments, Nitro Injectors, Remote Control [8EP] Powers: Speed 5 (250mph / 2,500ft per Move Action, Feats: Subtle) [6EP] >The Midnight Manor (HQ) [20EP] Powers: 36 + 12 + 5 + 1 + 6 + 10 = 70PP Gadgets 4 (20PP Variable Power, Any Power, Multiple Powers At Once, Extras: Action 2 [Free], Duration [Continuous], Flaws: Hard-To-Lose) [36PP] (Utility Belt & Coat) Example Gadgets Spoiler EMP Grenade [15 + 5 = 20PP] Drain Toughness 15 (Extras: Affects Objects, Area [General, Burst, 50ft radius], Linked [Damage], Flaws: Limited [Objects], Limited [Electronics]) [15PP] + Damage 10 (Extras: Area [General, Burst], Linked [Drain], Flaws: Limited [Objects], Limited [Electronics]) [5PP] Teleportation Signal Hijack [1 + 19 = 20PP] Super-Senses 1 (Trace Teleport) [1PP] Teleport 4 (Extras: Accurate, Affects Others, Power Feats: Change Velocity, Easy, Progression [Cargo] 1 [200 lbs.]) [19PP] Original Night Gun [3 + 17 = 20PP] Obscure 3 (Visual Senses, 25ft radius; Extras: Independent, Linked [stun], Flaws: Action [Full]) [3PP] + Stun 5 (Extras: Area [General, Cloud, 25ft radius], Linked [Obscure], Range [Ranged], Flaws: Action [Full], Power Feats: Progression [Area], Sedation) [17PP] Tight-Beam Sonic Emitter [17 + 3 = 20PP] Dazzle 15 (Auditory Senses, Power Feats: Accurate 2) [17PP] Communication 3 (Auditory (Ultrasonic); 1000ft) [3PP] Universal Translator [5 + 15 = 20PP] Super-Senses 5 (Acute Analytical Smell, Analytical Hearing, Analytical Vision, Ultrasonic Hearing) [5PP] Comprehend 5 (Codes, Languages 4 [Read/Write/Speak/Understand Any/All Simultaneously], Extras: Affects Others) [15PP] Obscure 3 (Olfactory & Visual Senses, 25ft radius, Extras: Action 2 [Free], Independent, Flaws: Range [Touch]) [12PP] (Gaseous Cloud) Protection 5 [5PP] (Saturated Muscle Tissue) Super-Senses 1 (Communication Link [Mental, Eve Martel/Sage]) [1PP] Super-Senses 6 (Counters Obscure [Visual Senses, All Descriptors], Infravision) [6PP] Telepathic Resistance 2 (10PP Container, [Passive, Permanent]) [10PP] (Mutant Neurology) Concealment 2 (All Mental Senses, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Flaws: Permanent) [4PP] + Concealment 1 (ESP Effects, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Flaws: Limited [Mental/Psionic Effects], Permanent) [1PP] Immunity 10 (Psionic Effects, Flaws: Limited [Half Effect]) [5PP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC20(22*) Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Escrima Sticks Touch DC23(25*) Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) *Sneak Attack Abilities 50 + Combat 32 + Saves 17 + Skills 37 + Feats 41 + Powers 70 = 247/250 Power Points Redbird Spoiler Character Name: Redbird Power Level: 7 (Minion 11 = 165PP) Trade-Offs: -3 Defence/+3 Toughness In Brief: Furion autonomic machine intelligence with the ability to merge with and enhance any vehicle. Birthplace: Silverwood Affiliations: Furions, Midnight II Family: Red Falcon (partner, deceased) Description: Gender: Currently ‘Female’ Height: 24 cm Weight: 1 kg Redbird’s physical form is a polished silver egg roughly the size of a small melon. While appearing featureless from the outside, the artificial intelligence is able to observe her surroundings from any direction and speak in an alto voice which has grown quieter and more deliberate since imprinting upon the human Trevor Hunter. When merging with a vehicle, the Furion technology of Redbird’s ‘egg’ melts into the control system, be it steering wheel or computer interface, and proceeds to enhance its temporary body with increased speed and other capabilities. These enhancements can range from subtle to clearly not-of-the-world, but in deference to Midnight’s preferences, cosmetic alterations typically include a light-devouring black colour scheme accented by a dark crimson wing motif. On the rare occasions she bothers to create any kind of holographic representation of herself, Redbird appears as an athletic woman roughly six feet tall and in her late twenties, slight only the the Furions’ statuesque standards. With dark red hair and high cheekbones, she shares many features in common with both Red Falcon and Trevor Hunter while dressing in motorcycle leathers or a chauffeur’s uniform as appropriate. History: Redbird is an autonomic machine intelligence created by the Furions, the powerful race of Terminus natives that are the last true opposition to Omega’s forces in that wretched blight of a realm, and like them she is very, very old. Computers in only most rudimentary of terms, such intelligences served many functions, with Redbird acting as copilot to some of the Furions’ greatest pilots, bridging the divide between rider and vehicle. Until recently Redbird was partnered with the Furion warrior known as Red Falcon. When the latter was injured too gravely to fly during Omega’s latest gambit to destroy Earth-Prime, Trevor Hunter, the second hero of his world to go by the name Midnight, stepped in, displaying a hitherto unseen level of fast-twitch muscle fibre compatibility. Red Falcon’s last act before a heroic sacrifice against a literal army of Omegadrones was to ensure that Redbird was safely entrusted to the care of the Earth-Prime heroes, thereby surviving his suicide run. Redbird subsequently imprinted on Midnight, a process which adjusts a machine intelligence’s behaviour to better compliment that of its new partner, often resulting in a completely new personality, albeit with all the same memories, skills and core traits the intelligence had previously possessed. Though it is traditional for the intelligence to take on a new name as well - and ‘Nightbird’ was briefly considered - given the nature of Red Falcon’s demise, both Redbird and Midnight agreed an exception would be appropriate. Earth-Prime is a much different world than Silver Tree, and Redbird is still adjusting to her new role, but it is enough to know that there is evil to be vanquished and battles to be won. In that, the two worlds are no so different at all. Personality & Motivation: Redbird’s current personality paradigm is level-headed and methodical - by Furion standards, at least. While previously jittery and almost anxious, Red Falcon’s passing has had a sobering effect on top of her current partner’s calm nature. She still possesses a temper than ignites into fiery rage at the sight of Omega’s lackeys and unsurprisingly has a passion for high speeds and daring maneuvers. Adopting a female voice and persona after observing Midnight’s close teamwork with Wander, Redbird elected to hold to that choice even after the a few relevant subtleties of human interaction were explained. She’s also stopped referring to herself in the third-person for the most part, discovering it was off-putting to her new allies, but still slips back into the habit when excited. Powers & Tactics: In her own, independent form Redbird is immobile but still able to speak in any sentient language, observe her surrounding in broad spectrum and deliver a nasty surge of cosmic energy to anyone foolish enough to pick up her ‘egg’ without permission. Paired with a vehicle and sufficiently skilled rider, however, she is force to be reckoned with. Merging with any vehicle and enhancing it with what could loosely be considered the ‘technology’ of Silver Tree, she can outfit her host chassis with ground speeds nearly light speed, flight and space-faring capabilities, powerful cosmic weaponry and whatever other equipment might be useful to the task at hand. Abilities: -10 - 10 - 10 + 6 + 8 + 6 = -10PP Strength: - Dexterity: - Constitution: - Intelligence: 16 (+3) Wisdom: 18 (+4) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 6 + 0 = 6PP Initiative: +3 Attack: +7 (+3 Base, +4 Size) Grapple: - Defence: +4 (+4 Size), +4 Flat-Footed Knockback: -5 (+3 Size) Saving Throws: 0 + 0 + 6 = 6PP Toughness: +10 (+10 Protection, Impervious 7) Fortitude: - Reflex: - Will: +10 (+4 Wis, +6) Skills: 64R = 16PP Computers 12 (+15) Skill Mastery Drive 0 (-/+12) Skill Mastery Intimidate 10 (+7/+13) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 7 (+10) Skill Mastery Knowledge (Technology) 7 (+10) Skill Mastery Language 1 (English, Furion [Native]) Notice 11 (+15) Skill Mastery Pilot 0 (-/+12) Skill Mastery Sense Motive 6 (+10) Skill Mastery Stealth 10 (-/+10) Skill Mastery Feats: 11PP All-Out Attack Eidetic Memory Fearless Interpose Power Attack Skill Mastery 2 (Computers, Drive, Knowledge [Physical Sciences], Knowledge [Technology], Notice, Pilot, Sense Motive, Stealth) Speed of Thought Teamwork 3 Powers: 8 + 1 + 20 + 30 + 29 + 17 + 5 + 14 + 12 = 136PP Comprehend 4 (Read, Speak and Understand All Languages Simultaneously) [8PP] Datalink 1 (10’, Radio) [1PP] Enhance Vehicle 4 (20PP Variable Power, Any Power, Multiple Powers at Once, Extras: Affects Others, Flaws: Action [Full Action], Limited 2 [Only Others, Only Vehicles]) [20PP] Immunity 30 (Fortitude Effects) [30PP] Autonomic Machine Intelligence Array 14 (28PP, Power Feats: Alternate Power 1) [29PP] Base: Possession 4 (Extras: Action [Free, +2], Affects Objects, Alternate Save [Reflex], Flaws: Limited 2 [Objects Only, Vehicles Only]) [16PP] + Enhanced Skills (Drive 12, Pilot 12) [6PP] + Morph 3 (+15 Disguise, Any Vehicle of Type Possessed) [6PP] AP: Damage 7 (Extras: Aura, Duration [sustained, +2]) [28PP] (Cosmic Energy Defence) Protection 10 (Extras: Impervious 7) [17PP] Regeneration 5 (Recovery Bonus +0) [5PP] Shrinking 12 (Diminutive, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Flaws: Permanent, Power Feats: Innate, Normal Toughness) [14PP] Super-Senses 12 (Terminus Awareness [Visual], Direction Sense, Distance Sense, Infravision, Ultravision, Extras: Analytical 2 [All Visual], Radius 2 [All Visual], Tracking 3 [Terminus Awareness]) [12PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Cosmic Defence Touch (Aura) DC22 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Totals: Abilities (-10) + Combat (6) + Saving Throws (6) + Skills (16) + Feats (11) + Powers (136) - Drawbacks (0) = 165/165 Power Points

September 1, 2011 Jordan International Airport Freedom City International Terminal This is not why I joined UNISON thought Mark Lucas, keeping his annoyance off his face and a smile on it as he listened to his charge's complaints. "You have a UNISON escort because you're the daughter of a head of state of a UN-recognized nation," said Mark, feeling a little silly in his blue UNISON uniform. At least they hadn't made him wear the helmet on the plane. "and because Dr. Typhoon made the request personally." Princess Nina al-Darsah, the youngest daughter of Typhoon, the arch-nemesis of the Freedom League-turned-Middle-Eastern head of state, was about Mark's age. About to begin her first year as an FCU student, Nina was on her way back to Socotra for an urgent meeting with her father, who had requested not just a UNISON escort for his daughter but the most powerful agent in UNISON's employ. In fact, the man's exact words (as Mark had seen) had been "only the mightiest among your pitiful ranks is suitable to give security to the daughter of TYPHOON!" Pulled out of his camp on the Ivory Coast for this, Mark had spent the last day in the company of a gorgeous young woman with her father's tan skin, black hair, flashing eyes, and with the personality you'd expect from the daughter of one of the most absolute rulers on Earth. It hadn't been his favorite trip. "That's the third time I've made you tell me that, Agent Lucas," said al-Darsah with an amused smile as she folded her hands before her. They were sitting next to each other in the first-class cabin, Mark's uniform and her Socotran dress with its merger of Arab and Indian styles having gotten a lot of attention along the way. "You're very obedient. I was hoping an agent of the United Nations would have a little more gumption. But I suppose you'd have to be good at following orders to wear that uniform of yours." Oh, what the hell. If he was going to spend an entire transAtlantic flight next to this woman, the least Mark could do was try and make it interesting. What was the worst that could happen? "I'm good at all kinds of things, Princess," replied Mark with a warm smile as he turned on the charm. "And my job is to make sure you make it back to your father in one piece. And when we're done, if you'd like to see me out of uniform, I'd be happy to oblige you." He smiled, and actually got a blush from Nina, who'd evidently not expected that comeback. Out of high school and on his own, he'd only recently become aware of how good he was at flirting when he really put his mind to it. "In the meantime, though, the other passengers are arriving. Let's not give them any hint we're anything other than seatmates." They'd boarded the plane through a separate door for security, but since it was a regular commercial flight (Freedom City to Paris with a layover, and then to Socotra's big airport on the main island), the regular first class passengers were about to embark.

The Rise of Evil!Doktor Archeville begins!

Date: June 17th, 2011 (Friday), later afternoon/early evening mid-to-high 70s, clear/scattered clouds. 2 days after the full moon. (10 months after an ill-fated housecall, 3 1/2 weeks after the Interceptors' Wedding, 2 weeks after Claremont's Graduation; 1 month before the Gorgon announcement) Earlier in the day, Arrowhawk paid a visit to the Scarab and they compared notes on the strange series of murders and disappearances that had been plaguing Freedom City for the past nine months. Seeking additional help, they headed to the Hanover home of their ally, Doktor Viktor Archeville. But they were not the only ones coming to see Archeville: like Scrooge, the super-scientist was to be visited by three beings this evening. Wander, one of ArcheTech's newest employees, was also coming by. With her was a trophy from a recent battle which she wished to have examined; to know how best to store it, she needed to know if it was safe to be around! (She'd chosen discretion due to not wanting the details of Young Freedom's exploits getting out just yet.) None of them expected who -- or what -- they would wind up meeting that evening. But what was that fabled science-hero up to? At the moment, he was alone in his home, his fiance Fulcrum off training wit the Interceptors, giving him time to do some surgical experimentation. He was carving ham for a sandwich. "The most perfect ham-and-cheese sandwich ever! Now, which mustard to use?" The Doktor rummaged through his tesseract refrigerator (like his home, it was bigger on the inside!), selecting from the dozen or so small yellow and brown jars.

Ashton June 7, 2011 A couple of days after the Claremont kids finally had their graduation, the general word went out in the superheroic community that Richard Milhouse Lucas, the long-time sidekick to the Freedom League back in the 1960s and 1970s, had perished in the line of duty. Rick had been a difficult man for many of his old friends to get along with in the last few years as his bitterness towards the current generation of superheroes grew, but he'd stayed in touch with everyone and always been there when they needed help. He'd regularly played host to various parties and fundraisers for that generation of heroes as they got older, using the celebrity he'd gained from his time with the League and his best-selling series of 'men's super-adventure novels' to help his old friends who'd never gotten a dime from their work stay financially comfortable even in retirement. He'd gone into seclusion some months earlier, and hadn't been seen much sense. Only a select few heroes personally associated with the Freedom League and the upper tier at Claremont knew about Rick's descent into madness after his son's short-lived death; what he'd done to rewrite the world and how he'd nearly abandoned it in disgust before giving his life to keep Omega from attacking it again. All superheroes invited to the service were invited to come in full costume, while in lieu of flowers Rick's testament asked that they donate to his son's alma mater: Claremont Academy. And now that a long life had come to an end, if too early for those who'd loved him, it was a time for the memorial service Rick had requested: a memorial service was all they could have, since his body was now somewhere beneath what had once been another version of Freedom City cast deep into the Zero Zone. At the Lucas house, Mark was studying himself in his bedroom mirror as he adjusted his suit and tie, trying to keep his emotions in check. Downstairs, his mom was entertaining Duncan Summers and his daughter Jasmine, the headmaster and his daughter being the first to show up for the service despite it being some time away. For Mark's part, after some consideration, he'd sent invitations out to all his schoolfriends, even those who he knew had had little use for his father while he was alive. If they didn't show, that was fine: he trusted them enough to know they wouldn't disrupt what the moment was about. It was about family...and when he thought about Young Freedom, he decided with a nod to his reflection, that meant they belonged there too.

Continued from >There Won't Be A Next Time June 1st, 2011. 8:05 AM Young Freedom missed graduation, but then again, so did everyone else. The ceremony had been postponed the minute the five young heroes had disappeared from view, for all that they'd reappeared only five minutes later on the other side of town with the broken chestplate of Omega's armor and a wild story to tell. There were debriefings to come, no doubt extensive ones that would exhaustively pour over every detail of the fight at the end of reality and all that had come before it: the death of the multiverse, the trip to four worlds, the appearance and disappearance of Rick Lucas, and finally the seeming destruction of the Lord of Entropy himself. But first, Bolt's speedy trip back to Freedom Hall after the reappearance of Travis, Martha, and Erin's cat on the Claremont lawn had meant the League teleporters were already working. By the time the Young Freedom kids had given their hasty explanations to the startled Captain Thunder and headed inside for their debriefing, their missing loved ones, even Quo-Dis who was holding a very familiar orange cat, were waiting for them inside. For their part, Mark and Martha took a look at each other, Mark's look confirming what Martha had already known, and they simply embraced, the moment too sharp, too painful, coming after too much overwhelming emotion even for weeping. "I'm proud of you, Mark," Martha whispered fiercely. "So very proud."

Continued from >The Earth Died Screaming Earth-EZO1 was a stark world of grim horror and sere beauty. Redbird's fast flight over the western United States showed them a world of dead cities and empty ruins beneath. Most cities had burned by now in their long untended period; Boise, Denver, St. Louis, and the rest were shells of what they'd once been. Streets were clogged with the rusting shells of cars and debris, and even unburnt buildings had begun to sway and fall. They were, at least, too high up for any lingering smells from beneath, though most of those had faded with the years of quietude. On another day, they might have appreciated the natural beauty beneath: the Misssissippi free of man's pollution, trees growing where cities had once been, a herd of bison stampeding beneath them in Missouri, what distinctly looked like a lion watching them as they skipped through Appalachian peaks in the Carolinas. But there was no time for that now, not with where they were going. Undersea was all quiet darkness as Redbird, with Midnight's skilled hands on her handlebards, took them beneath the waves. The ocean was dead of people; the Atlantean genocide having been one of the first outbreaks of the hero flu, but here too there were fish at play and the sunlight passing through the waves. There was life here, if no human life, and a vast universe beyond them. This world was more than just a tool for saving all reality; Earth-EZO1, for all its horror, was a world worth saving too. As they passed under the water, lit only dimly by the glow of Redbird's lights and the shimmering blue of Corbin's cold fire, Mark looked around at all the faces of his friends, thinking about the people underneath the masks. Erin, Trevor, Corbin, Eve, and their new friend Red Falcon, who with his plasma rifle would be defending Redbird even if they all had to leave it behind. They'd all come so far, over so many years and so much time, and now they were about to face their greatest challenge yet. They were approaching the river now, Edge riding behind Sage in one compartment, Cobalt Templar and Red Falcon on another side, and Midnight grim and determined behind the wheel with Wander behind him. For just a second, Mark closed his eyes and saw his mother's face, then his father's. Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. And then they were erupting out of the water and Freedom City was given over to the forces of Hell: grim Terminus towers rising where once the Pyramid Plaza had stood and on the site of where City Hall had been, the downtown of Freedom City transformed into a Terminus hellscape of firepits and belching machinery: and as Redbird roared towards the battered bulk of Freedom Hall, he saw the Omegadrones beneath look up. "Let's do this! For Freedom!"

Continued from >Leaves from the Vine Earth-Z-Omega-1 Edge froze in shock as the toppling tower came down right where he was! Unable to dodge in time, instead he stood his ground and fired back. "NO!" His eyes glowing black, he fired straight upwards as the reality of this dead world warped around him at his will. He would not die because of a falling building! Mark Lucas would not let this, or anything else, stop his friends in their efforts to save all of existence from the dark machinations of Omega! At his command, the falling debris broke around him like a tide breaking around a rock, the so-small clear zone around him the only island of sanity beneath the avalanche of falling steel, concrete, and glass. A falling brick bounced against his back, knocking him to his knees, but Mark did not fall as the collapsing debris fell around him, his powers warping the very air and very rocks to keep his friends from being buried by the avalanche, even if he wasn't able to save all of them from the damage produced by the collapsing Needle. Before he even focused on the aerial battle, he called out over the echoes of the collapse, "Young Freedom! Sound off!"

Continued from >Familiar Faces Earth C-Future-2 With just enough warning to grab what they needed, Young Freedom slipped from one world to another in the early morning light of a clear summer's day. Within moments, they found themselves in a new world: this time in suburban Kingston, right under the WELCOME TO KINGSTON sign installed just a few years ago by the City Council. Pulling his costume all the way on, Mark pushed his thoughts about his father out of his head and looked around. It looked like everyone was dressed and in costume, though no one had had much warning about getting their clothes on and ready to go. For a moment, he thought they'd somehow solved everything and gone back to their world: Kingston in 2035 didn't look that different. Sure, the car in the suburban garage they were next to looked electric and had the sleek, efficient lines of something from a science fiction movie or car company special showroom, and sure the billboard down the street was a shimmering spectacle of light. It took him a few moments to take in the black. Black banners were hanging on every house, each with a date emblazoned in silver: 6/21/2034: NEVER FORGET! Turning around, he gasped at the sight of Freedom City; shining towers rose high in a monument to futurity, but every single one was under repair, with the marks of devastation visible even from this distance to his inexpert eyes. What had happened here, and what were they rebuilding from? Before he could react to the grim monument in suburbia and the recovering city before them, suddenly there was a cascade of light in front of them on the green lawn and five superheroes formed up out of what was obviously a very advanced teleporter's beam. In the lead of the largely female group was a >tall brunette in white and blue, a pair of dice on her costume's chest showing snake eyes. Next to her was a >muscular young man in all black, long ribbons extending from the back of his head like a novel kind of cape, a familiar symbol on his chest. Next to him was a young woman >Corbin almost recognized, her face like the young woman he'd met who claimed to be his daughter, but with a costume subtly different, more like Quo-Dis' than anything else and cast in purple from the ring on her finger. In the rear were two older women; >one with green hair and a purple and black outfit, and behind her a gleaming metal battlesuit with waving metallic tentacles like a robotic octopus. The group eyed each other for a moment before the ring-bearing girl said, her serious look suddenly cracking to pain, "You'd...you'd better be who you look like!" "Stand down, Vril Knight," said the dice lady, giving her ally a serious look before looking at the others, shooting a wide-eyed glance at Erin and Mark before mastering her own facial expression. "I'm Lucky Strike. Welcome to 2035, Young Freedom. We've been briefed on why you're here and we've located your target. Please, remember that you're from the past of an alternate world." It sounded like she was talking to her own team as much as Young Freedom. "You can't...you can't change what you see here. This is Midnight, Vril Knight, Amaryllis, and Fusion. We're here to help you get to Freedom Hall safely." "Call me Psilent," replied 'Midnight', his voice raspy and dry, with just the faint hint of a French accent. "While he's here."

Continued from >The End of the Beginning Earth-M-Lucas-1 Young Freedom left the grim darkness of an Erde morning and found themselves beneath a blue, sunny sky. They were in a clean, well-maintained alley in what was clearly downtown Freedom City: the trashcans all had their lids, none of the windows were broken, and there was no sign of Nazis. Visible to their left was the Pyramid Plaza, the triple towers rising high against the clear morning sky, the American flag flying high overhead. For a moment, anyway, those of them not familiar with other dimensions could think they'd all gone home. That was, at least, until the black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am came roaring down the street opposite, and the first blasting sounds of funky disco came their way from its overpowered speakers. Outside, the streets of Freedom City looked to be pulled from the pages of the 1970s seen through a warped modern lens: men with elaborate mustaches and half-open shirts that showed off their hairy chests walked alongside ladies in brightly-colored wide-hemmed bell-bottoms, over their heads computerized billboards advertising a too-young Farrah Fawcett starring in the latest Michael Bay movie. The streets were certainly more diverse than they'd last seen, with muscular black men with magnificently coiffed hair in the company of ladies with impressive afros: indeed, from the lady speaker on the corner calling for equal rights for all men and women to the hippies playing in the park, it looked as if someone had gone around and collected as many oppressed minority groups as they could and dropped them on the funky streets of Freedom City. Suddenly, a startled exclamation came as a policeman walking by the alley spotted the quintet of dimension-lost heroes. In a hammy Irish stage accent that nonetheless sounded all too real, he exclaimed, "It's...it's...oh mother of Mary, it's Counter Freedom!" He took out his whistle and blew it as hard and loud as he could. "I knew you crazy criminals would be back one day!" he called, whipping out his gigantic belt radio as he backed away from the teens. "You just stay back! The Freedom League will set you whippersnappers right!"

Continued from >Noise of Thunder Mark felt first a whiteness, pure and all-embracing, then terrible, all-encompassing blackness, as if a quiet non-existence had been replaced with the certain knowledge of absolute destruction. And then he was waking up, his face pressed to an unfamiliar wooden surface that it took him a bizarre second to recognize: he was pressed against not the floor, but the far wall of his mother's art studio, surrounded by the furniture, art supplies, and his mother's scattered colored pencils that had all evidently taken a hard spin to the left at some point when the local gravity had taken a hard turn in the wrong direction. Pulling himself to his feet, he gazed around a room cast sideways and lit with an eerie red glow from outside. He counted off with his eyes: Wander, Midnight, Cobalt Templar, Sage, Trevor's grandfather, even his mother, all of them cast askew by the warped gravity just as the room's contents had been. Ignoring the shuttered window for a moment, not to mention of seeing the whole world swept away into nothingness, Mark focused right on Martha. "Mom? Are you all right? What happened?" He couldn't quite keep the judgement out of his voice; he'd had good reason to be angry with his parents for a long time now! For her part, Martha was dusting herself off. "Oh, Mark..." She embraced him. "I'm so sorry it happened like this, and that I left the way I did...but I saw you'd be all right and I had to spend what time I could with your father. I don't know if you can forgive me...but because we're all here, it was for a good cause." She let out a breath. "Your father is waiting for us in the study. For all of us. He'll explain everything."

June 1, 2011 8 AM Mark stood in his dorm room, peering out the window at the junior students working to set up the stage, folding seats, banners, and other paraphernalia of a Claremont graduation. Mike had already moved his stuff out, leaving a hollow space on one side of the room. The Class of 2011 was just a couple of hours from graduation; he was just about to finish high school. He didn't feel quite as triumphant as he'd once thought he would. Maybe it was because he was alone; he'd have a few cousins in the crowd, but neither Rick nor Martha Lucas had made any sign of coming to their son's graduation. They'd made no sign at all of where they'd gone, just a month earlier, and made no sign of coming back. His parents were gone. And worse, it looked like he'd be going too: he was happy about the thought of working with UNISON, and loved the idea of going to Africa to work for people who needed the kind of help most superheroes couldn't give them. But it still meant going away from the city that had been his home his whole life, from the friends and extended family he'd known for so long. He checked his watch, then gathered up his bundle of graduation stuff (just so he wouldn't lose it), and decided to head upstairs to where at least one friend would probably be. He figured this was one night she probably hadn't spent at Trevor's. Amid the hustle and bustle of his fellow students getting ready for graduation, Mark knocked on Erin's door. How many more times am I going to do this?, he asked himself. Not many. No one I know will be living here soon! That thought was soothing enough to relax him, at least for the moment. He wasn't really good at dwelling on things for long, not even on a big day like this. They were all moving on, after all, and surely the always-prepared Erin had more in mind for the future than he did.

February 1, 2011 Earth-Prime This is exactly where Young Freedom belongs. It's been raining for days now, what was once drizzles transforming into thick, heavy drops that come as part of a torrential downpour, turning what should have been a lovely flowering of spring into a cold, sopping wet bog. Exposed grass is wet and the earth beneath it muddy, and the city's levees have been shored up along the Wading River. All that wouldn't be so bad, except that's not just happening here. What was a joke for meteorologists last week has become all too serious today: it's raining everywhere. All through New Jersey, all through New York; across the East Coast and across America. The entire continental United States is under the biggest storm system anyone's ever seen, maybe ever heard of, and the rain is getting worse. The natural assumption, of course, is that culprit is the villainous Dr. Stratos, the wicked weather manipulator. The League is off dealing with that, leaving the city in the hands of its teen heroes. Edge stood by the levee, watching with worry as the river level slowly rose. He was doing all he could to keep the water level down, standing on the dam and draining away the water as it came in, a thousand improbable accidents sending the water cascading downriver and into the Atlantic, but he wasn't powerful enough to stop a storm this big: maybe no one was. Trusting that the rest of Young Freedom was busy, either helping with the sandbags or assisting the engineers reinforcing the seawall in other ways, Mark looked up to see the familiar shape of the Pegasus spaceplane dipping low through the storm, heading for nearby Freedom Hall. _Thank goodness!_ Edge thought. _The League is here!_ That was when a tremendous lightning bolt came ripping out of the storm, heralding a massive tornado that came roaring down after it, and before Edge could do anything, bolt and tornado both struck the plane, shattering it to a thousand pieces in a jagged-edged explosion that tore open a violent hole in the sky. As the engineers and volunteers around him started to panic, Edge threw up barriers in the sky, falling debris vanishing in circles of mist as the Pegasus came tumbling down, shouting to his teammates for help... --- February 1, 2011 Earth-No Designation (aka, 'Earth-Paragons') "Oh my freaking God!" As the League's plane broke into pieces and vanished, leaving behind a shimmering purple void that had to be provenance of paragon powers, Edge shouted in surprise as pieces of the falling plane began tumbling to earth all around him: he pushed his powers to the utmost to deflect them, sending showers of debris falling away from him, away from the hard-working engineers and volunteers below. It had been an awful few days as unprecedented weather disasters swept the nation, as rumors of terrible paragon powers unleashed began to terrify a frightened populace; he'd seen reports of lynchings in Texas and Arkansas, and televangelists speaking grimly of the End Times. It wasn't the end for Mark, but despite his best efforts, people around him were dying, even as the scream of the waterspout in the river filled his ears. It was all over in a few terrible seconds, and though he'd saved many people, he was surrounded by disaster! Whipping out his cellphone to call up the linked phones of his teammates, Mark yelled, "Listen, you guys! I need help in City Center right now!" Claremont's young paragons had been divided up through the city to help deal with the rising water, the better to promote their individual Q-ratings while each of them combatted the threatening disaster that was so baffling to both the Freedom League and the Vanguard alike, indeed, to all the scientists and supers working for the government. "The Pegasus just blew up!"