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GM Huge problems can start from the tiniest of errors, like ripples spreading across a pond. When Dr. Marco Hoffman forgot to put his thick gloves on before helping transfer his patient to her gurney for transport, he thought little of it. He merely snatched his burned hand back from Julia Cole's arm, swore under his breath, and reached for his protective gear before finishing the job. The custom-made handcuffs clicked securely in place. She never appeared to stir from her drug-induced sedation; her guards experienced no trouble when they wheeled Cole back to her cell, specially designed for her unique needs. And by the time Dr. Hoffman noticed that his keys were missing from his pocket, it was far, far too late. About an hour later, Dr. Oliver Graves--a particularly appropriate name, given the number of innocent people he put into the ground with his highly unethical work for an organization he barely understood--reviewed the security footage under thermal and slow-motion viewpoints. He already knew what happened; the damage to the facility spoke for itself, as did four missing patients and over two dozen dead or maimed guards. He now wanted to know why. The Coles were gone--project names Absolute Zero and Heat Sink. Holly Page--project name Copy Error--the mercenary for some international cartel or another, who paid for her augmentation through the DNAscent process and were told that their hired gun died on the operating table, was gone. Owen Walsh--project name Temporal Displacement--was gone, but at least he wouldn't be missed; the man was insufferable even before DNAscent unhinged him, and Dr. Graves privately hoped that whichever field agents retrieved him did so with a body bag. All failures, technically, but that hardly meant they had no value. Jonathan Grant and Peter Hanks--only the latter of whom Dr. Graves actually knew--continued to experiment with new techniques for DNAscent; now that they could create "simple" powers with relative reliability, they branched out in hopes of securing more esoteric talents. Why rely on blind luck? Most patients at this particular facility just died, but these four survived with unforeseen side effects, handicaps, insanity, or some combination of the three. Dr. Graves was under orders to study them thoroughly before they were inevitably terminated. Omelets and eggs, after all. He clicked through the video records until he found the problem. There, using the slowest mode available, was a single frame of Heat Sink reaching one blurry hand into Dr. Hoffman's coat pocket. Dr. Graves narrowed his eyes and sighed. He made a mental note to adjust her sedatives, assuming she could be recaptured alive. "Detain Hoffman for the next round of experiments," he told his bodyguards. "And notify Dr. Hanks. We have a problem." * * * The four story structure of glass and gleaming steel seemed to appear almost overnight, right on the bank of the North Bay district; property values here were horrendously expensive, but that wasn't a problem. Although the owner of this facility wasn't blessed with patience, he did have more wealth than he could spend in ten lifetimes, and so, multiple construction crews worked around the clock with whatever equipment they requested. Inspections and permits proved surprisingly cooperative when the city officials who issued them suddenly found their departments' budgets much healthier than the day before. Besides, who wanted to stand in the way of a good cause? Some of those bureaucrats attended today's grand opening. Other guests included local scientists, out-of-town experts, and of course, reporters to handle the publicity. Covers only worked when enough people knew about them. At least it will be a proper charity, Dr. Delacroix thought in his office on the top floor. He made his way through the adjoining lab, past equipment that was still being relocated and set up. Most of the building was devoted to research space...and with so much gear, no one would be shocked when some of it went mysteriously missing during transit, especially when he replaced it with a wave of his checkbook. He took the stairs down to the lobby, where catering crews buzzed about. Tables with finger foods sat parallel to the rows of chairs, which faced a temporary platform where he and certain guest speakers would discuss the charity's goals. Above the platform was a long banner: Oceanographic Charity for Ecological Assistance and Nurturing. OCEAN, or on the formal paperwork, OCEAN-Freedom; Tristan couldn't resist linking his organization to the city that birthed his love of heroes and allowed him to, more or less, be one. The young doctor inhaled and smiled as he looked at the banner. It wouldn't be long now. Soon, he could delegate the day-to-day functions to his staff, narrow his personal contribution to pure research--he doubted that anyone would complain, given his skill in this area--and secretly spend most of his time more immersed in the Great Bay than anyone expected. He turned when he heard the front doors open, bringing in footsteps and light chatter. The earliest guests were arriving, and so, Tristan went to shake some hands.

OOC for this. Let me know if you need a reason for Casey to be at the scene, and feel free to have her be currently in-costume or out of it!

Wednesday August 24, 2016 The Waterfront, Freedom City GM Post Tourism had always been a valuable source of income for the city of Freedom. The main draw was obvious - FC had seemingly more superheroes per capita than any other city in the nation. And once you got here, the residents had devised many other ways of extracting your money from your wallet. The casinos were always popular, as were the restaurants. But one of the most consistently popular tourist activities was the citywide tours offered by a number of organizations. When the city was full of superheroes - and consequently, a history of superbattles - it made for an town rife with landmarks. The waterfront had proved to be a surprisingly popular location for many tourists. The many docks and cargo ships that were constantly coming and going, loading and unloading, was already an impressive enough sight. Add in the ability to recant the history of the various superbattles that had taken place there, and you had a major inconvenience for the workers who had to be constantly shooing clueless tourists away from loading zones. It was a hot day, with the sun beating down fiercely on the city from the sky. Cargo ships blared their deafening horns as they methodically rumbled through the water - which did nothing to deter the busload of overexcited tourists from taking pictures of everything that moved while chattering to each other excitedly. The guide seemed to be weakly attempting to get them back to the subject of whatever landmark they were supposed to be admiring - but the crowd was cheerfully ignoring her, their attention having instead been captured by the spectacle of a forty-foot shipping container with a "Mercury Shipping" logo in the side being hoisted into the air by a towering crane. For residents or citydwellers, it was a none-too-impressive sight, but for those new to both Freedom and cities in general, it was apparently miraculous. Sharp-eyed observers might have noticed dockworkers expressing some consternation at the situation. The unruly tourists were crowding entirely too close to the work zone for comfort, disregarding the yellow warning signs. If there was an accident or malfunction of some sort, bad things could happen - but what were the chances of that happening?

This is the OOC. Feel free to ask me quite literally anything about the thread, especially if it doesn't make sense. I've likely missed something. As the proposal stated, Terrifica posted on Superhero Craigslist looking for some help. Got two, sent a message to Miracle Girl to lend a hand. No more, no less.

August 19, 2016. Freedom City. The Waterfront. The Abandoned Warehouse. Yes, That One. 11:00 PM. It had taken a great deal of research and effort to get to this point. Over a month of work, which was quite a bit for the supergenius heroine known as Terrifica. Still, now she knew exactly what needed to be done. She had posted a need for superheroic assistance on Capeslist, and two had bitten, filling the Thief and Grifter archetypes (phrased in a way that would decidedly not set off red flags across law enforcement and superheroic systems, of course). That wasn’t all they could do, naturally, but it was what she was looking for. Time had run out and she could wait no longer for responses to the Hitter and Hacker requests. However, she had sent a message to Miracle Girl, who would suffice for the former and Terrifica herself would quite suffice for the latter. Now it was a simply matter of time until everyone arrived. Terrifica had arranged a table and five chairs for the occasion, just in case a Hacker decided to show up at the last minute. The last batch of criminals to use this place were currently in jail. And of course, Terrifica herself waited in the shadows. She was no fool. She would only reveal herself when everyone had arrived. Any second now, someone should be arriving.

North Bay Yacht Club April 23rd, 2016 9am, Sunny, 59 degrees GM Torpedo Lass organized some bags on the rented out yacht the nautical superheroine had loaded on. She had everything planned out for the day outing, right down to where to do the water sampling the science teacher that had sponsored the trip along with Torpedo Lass herself who used some reward money she picked up on a couple small patrols prior to cover insurance for the trip. It would be a two day trip, with the duo returning home sometime in the afternoon. She also recommended to dress warmly, although she also knew Casey's powers made her more than able to handle the cold. She smiled as she sat on one of the well stuffed piles of bags. Being super-strong had it's perks. She was both stevedore, and sailor both. She adjusted the suit that was her costume, and waited for her young charge for the next two days to arrive.

Well, here is the strangely quieter than expected trip to the unknown, featuring Torpedo Lass as the chaperone. Heri, feel free to tag here and follow.

So I've wanted to give Miracle Girl a decent ranged attack for some time now, and drawing upon one of her primary inspirations (aka Supergirl), I'm giving a lot of thought to heatvision, your basic Ranged Damage effect. I'd like it to have some decent damage, either 8 or 10 ranks, but that's not cheap, and she doesn't really have a good way to AP that. I'm looking at the Distracting flaw as a possible way to save points; Superman and Supergirl usually seem to stop everything and concentrate intensely when they use it, so it feels right. My question is, just how dangerous is this in combat? Anyone ever take Distracting and lived to regret it? MG is a flying brick, so she's pretty darn tough.

Saturday, February 6th, 2016 An email appeared in Robin's school inbox earlier that week.

This is the OOC. Feel free to ask me quite literally anything about the thread, especially if it doesn't make sense. I've likely missed something. Nothing much to say to start with. Terrifica got a message to Miracle Girl about the case some kind of way that didn't violate secret identity. If you like, Blarghy, she could have done the same for Leviathan. Otherwise come in as you like.

January 12, 2016. Freedom City. North Bay. Corner of Osgood and Blake. 1 AM. GM There was a new band of thieves in town. A mansion had been burgled every night. But the hell of it was, even with the expensive security systems, the perpetrators hadn’t been seen. Well, that was inaccurate. There were slight blurs in the recording. But the known people who were fast enough to pull off the robberies all had airtight alibis. Like being in prison, in plain sight on another continent, or literally a member of the Freedom League. Etcetera. That meant this set had gotten their powers relatively recently, or just weren’t in the system. It was a problem. Fortunately, a few heroes had taken notice. PC Terrifica wasn’t sure if Miracle Girl had gotten her message. She was a Claremont student, that much was obvious. Both Lucas and Meilin would attend when they were old enough. She was even considering Nicholson for Lucas’s Pre-K. It wouldn’t have been that hard to figure out which one, however she would respect the unwritten rules of heroes. Not that it stopped her brain from working on the problem, like all the other ones. She was seated on her Terrifi-cycle, observing the latest target of the thieves. Or so she had deduced, and Terrifica was never wrong. She may have had incomplete data to work from, but she was never wrong.

Has there ever been a mention, either on this site or in canon, of a school paper at Claremont? It struck me that this would really be something Casey and maybe other students could work on.

This is the OOC. Feel free to ask me quite literally anything about the thread, especially if it doesn't make sense. I've likely missed something. For the record, the store isn't that big inside. It's a storefront kind of place, just your average sized jewelry shop. There are five Customers, and three Store Staff (including the injured man). Four of the Customers and all of the Store Staff are Bystanders and thus PL0 as far as combat goes. However, there currently is nothing to separate the Customer that isn't from the ones that are Bystanders. The injured man is behind the counter, but the rest are pressing against the far wall and each other. The Lions...well...for now that'd be telling. However the ones carrying the jewelry are Minions. The one menacing the Bystanders is not. He's not about to attack them, just keeping them at bay and from getting any Heroic ideas. One last thing. This scene is meant to be Miracle Girl's show. Terrifica isn't supposed to appear until the end of it, but if it looks like she's having trouble the supergenius will appear early. All that AND an extra Hero Point to start, because this is complicated mess of a situation.

December 23, 2015. Freedom City. Midtown. Morgan’s Jewlery. 5:00 PM. Christmas was almost here. The sense of the season was in the air…and on the lightpoles…and the windows…basically downtown was fully decorated to all of humanity’s ranged senses. Last minute shoppers mixed with the general hubbub that was downtown Freedom. In fact, Morgan’s Jewlery was doing a fairly brisk business. Normally, the shop usually dealt with custom orders from more wealthy Freedonians, but for this year’s Christmas shopping season they’d stocked up on more affordable jewelry, in hopes that the profits allow them to afford to move the shop to a new, larger location a few blocks away. Evidently, someone had a better idea as to where that money could go. The customers and staff were being menaced by, of all things, a lion while several others emptied the vault and display cases of gold and diamonds to a waiting truck. One of the staff was already downed, apparently badly injured. The alarm button was close to him, unpressed. Strangely, despite the fact that anyone could see what was happening inside if they glanced through one of the shop’s windows, life continued as usual outside of it.

GM Somewhere over Route 9 Southside Freedom City, New JerseyThursday November 19th, 2015 6:00 PM Floating hundreds of miles over the city, Miracle Girl was experiencing a view of the city unique to those with some means to propel themselves through the sky. She only had an hour left to patrol, lest Casey find herself late for dinner. Thus far the night had been uneventful. The most threatening thing she had encountered was the cold November rain whipping against her face as she flew around. It seemed all but certain that she would go home after a quiet night out. The stillness of silence was broken by the faint, rhythmic wailing of distant police sirens coupled with all too familiar red and blue flashes throughout the cityscape. At the same time, Miracle Girl was able to hear the silent radio frequency of a security alarm being set off. The alarm lying somewhere other than where the police where apparently headed. Quickly tabling the idea of a completely quiet evening the heroine had options at her disposal.

Port Regal, Freedom CIty 7:15 am, 14th October 2015 The sky was red and thunder filled the sky there was a pressure building and the air seemed almost electric. Not that any of that was unusual in a place like Freedom City but it was obvious that something momentous or unusual was about to happen. With all that build up the result was almost anticlimactic suddenly a small figure appeared in the air a white cloak billowing out behind them. Then the figure began to fall from the sky plummeting to the city below them.

Location: Currently Claremont, later the Fens Date: 9/19/15 It had taken minimal cajoling, surprisingly to Robin, to coax extra bread and peanut butter from the staff that handled Claremont's dining service. It had been worth the somewhat sad-eyed look she'd gotten for the small trash bag of sandwiches she had slung over her shoulder like an odd Santa's sack. Ho ho ho. Robin wasn't quite sneaking out of Claremont. It was the weekend, after all, and they were allowed to leave and return home. Of course, Robin's home was more of a zip code than a street address but nonetheless, she was antsy to get back to it. The Fens needed her, Robin was convinced of it and nothing, likely including an act of God, could probably sway her from that opinion. Robin shouldered her backpack onto her shoulder, trash bag of sandwiches in hand. She was about to head out towards the gate when she paused at the Lost and Found box to poke around in it. She never took anything from lost and found that was important or valuable, but when she found two sweatshirts with logos plastered across them, she collected those too, bundling them under one arm and heading for the gate directly, clearly not making eye contact with anyone on her way on foot towards the school gate.

Jordan International Airport 9/19/2015, 10:15 AM, Partly Cloudy Spend enough time around airports and one grew accustomed to the dull roar of distant jet engines and the skipping skreech of landing gear hitting the runway. The endless ballet of the airspace over a busy international airport had it's own rhythms and meter to those familiar. Thus it was the change in that rhythm that first would clue in Casey Blankenship of something out of the ordinary, something hard to place in the ordering of landings and take offs, a change in the dull background signals of busy radio bands, then a series of encrypted signals and the sign of sure trouble as she picked up the command from flight control diverting all aircraft from Jordan International where she sat trying to concentrate on her homework whilst she awaited her father finishing whatever business it was that had brought him here this morning. The signal, tight beam and encrypted, could be felt moments before his communicator trilled in the briefcase he left behind, "AEGIS Calling Vigilant, Suspected 7500 need eyes on." *** Inside the Airport there was little to indicate the drama unfolding in the skies above, people slowly made their way through security, passengers awaited flights in uncomfortable seat occasionally checking departure or arrival times. An alert patron might have heard the a distant scream, or noticed uniformed TSA officers rushing to the restrooms near an empty gate. But for most no sign of trouble was likely to be noticed until the boards suddenly refreshed and all flights were marked as delayed, a sure sign of trouble. Those sitting close enough to the gates boarding desk might have heard the whispered supposition that air traffic lost contact with a plane above or that it had broken its flight plan. Neither a good sign to be sure. *** In the skies over Freedom Archtech test pilot Naomi Baines testing the latest adjustments to the flight pack her employers were developing would hear some of the chatter as planes were grounded and military escorts mustered. Given the dangers in the skies Archetech protocol would be to land unless called in by authorities of course. Then again Archtech protocol wasn't exactly designed with a nigh immortal hero in mind. There certainly was an argument to be made that Jordan International was the closest safe landing area after all. *** On board flight 1200 Freedom to London there was little to indicate anything amiss. Regular travelers if they were paying attention might notice they didn't seem to be traveling east as one would expect, but for most in the skies over freedom there were few enough clues as to where they were that it was unlikely to take anything amiss. The Flight attendants began to walk the aisles taking drink orders and all seemed normal until a child gleefully pointed out in a staccato squeal, "Look Mamma the Sentry Statue again We passed it three times now!" Why would the plane be circling Freedom city and why hadn't the flight crew alerted the passengers?

The OOC! El Hurican I'm gonna let you decide if you're on the plane (probably with your parents) or just at the airport seeing them off and overhear some of the budding chaos. Post in accordingly. DC 15 Notice checks from each of you as you approach the plane. And a DC 10 Knowledge: Technology if you have it.

Gina's Gather Info (repped through Computers) is sufficient to tell whatever the players are comfortable with you knowing about their characters. (maxing out the relevant rep tables) So she knows Vigilant is a patriotic hero whose daughter is a Claremont student named Miracle Girl, she knows Argonaut's story pretty well already, and everything that's public about Cannonade. So far the group at the museum in Fort Meade hasn't made any demands of the base commander or the US government, despite being within just a few blocks of CIA Headquarters. They have made some very public demonstrations of power, violently crushing several attempts by light armor and commando personnel to drive them out of their position. They've taken no prisoners and no hostages, but they've made sure everyone nearby has fled the area or gone into one of several secure shelters. "Miss Americana" is working on a defunct Atlas missile stored at the base museum, but Gina can't imagine what that would accomplish - Atlas missiles are long since retired and there's nothing dangerous in a museum piece anyway!

28th August 2015 Casey Blankenship, 17, Born Colorado Springs, CO but now a resident of Freedom City, NJ As a proud member of the Girl Scout I enjoy outdoor activities... It was an accurate description but the thing was Casey didn’t write one word of it, in fact she wasn’t aware of the Young Women of America show until the brochure was hand delivered this morning. Yet here was a photo of her smiling at the camera and detail of her as a contestant in this show. It seemed that somehow she’d been entered in what appeared to be a more modern take on the pageant without her even being aware of such a things. In fact the event was about to start this weekend in Freedom City itself.

September 5, 2015 Fort Meade, Maryland Supervillains were attacking Fort Meade. Well, not supervillains exactly. It had started out as a typical enough Saturday for the large military base close to Washington, DC; crowds of tourists at the National Cryptologic Museum and the Fort George Meade Museum, the Washington crowd taking advantage of Labor Day Weekend for one last hurrah. What followed next made its way onto the Internet quickly in one of those videos that goes viral the moment it hits Youtube. First, the golden gate had opened just across the street from the museum and a small group of costumed individuals had emerged - Argonaut, the armored AEGIS agent, Cannonade, the blue-collar brawler, Miss Americana, the patriotic paragon, and Vigilant, the all-American action hero. As the gate closed behind them, they ran, flew, and leaped across the street towards the museum, Cannonade casually sweeping aside a uniformed MP who (sensing trouble) had tried to block their way into the Museum. "F*cking typical!" he was heard to declare as they made their way in. "A world we didn't take over and it's already falling apart at the seams." Once inside, Miss Americana declared, "I'll get the missile! The rest of you get these wimpy bastards out of here and guard the perimeter. And get rid of all this trash!" The crowd, mostly civilians, didn't need any encouragement to run from the rampaging superheroes; a photographer outside caught Vigilant hurling a Mark VIII Liberty tank right through the museum wall with a tremendous crash! Whatever missile Miss Americana was after, she evidently found it - while the other 'heroes' took up position outside the museum, Miss A could be seen working on the preserved Ajax missile inside. It was Argonaut who dealt with the first wave of security, laughter coming from behind her armored faceplate as she cut her way through Jeeps, casually battering aside the MPS who arrived in them with cruel efficiency. "It's a bad time to be a bastard, kids! Sleeping in boxes and eating field rations for the past twelve months has built up a lot of negative energy in me, Miss A!" She called out, evidently over her suit's radio. "Treating these dirtbags to a little eye-gouging and back-breaking for a few minutes might be just the kind of cathartic exercise I was looking for!" For his part, Vigilant lived up to his name, taking up position on the roof and keeping stern watch on the surrounding base neighborhood even as chaos ensued all around them - Argonaut and Cannonade casually rampaging in the streets, sirens and gunfire ringing out, and panicking civilians being hastily evacuated away by the troops still standing who had not tried to directly engage Argonaut or Cannonade. "Attention, everyone!" he finally declared, using a voice amplifier. "This building is now the property of the Vigilance Committee! We are the baddest of the bad on this planet and several others you've never been to. Every once in a while we have to prove that to stupid people like yourself. Once we're done with the missile, we'll leave you to rot in your petty little world! Now, leave us alone...before we stop playing NICE."

OOC for A Wild Endeavor. An adventure to a strange alternate earth... Starring Endeavor, Miracle Girl, Samaritan, and Amorph! Feel free to tag here, and follow the ooc and the ic once posted.

Since we are already seeing some rolls.

May 15th It was supposed to be a week long trip. One planned by Elias, with one instructor, Mr. Landis, being the one watching to make sure this didn't go belly up. It was a hiking survival trip through the Pine Barren in Wharton. So the potential was there. Given the intent, all the students were told to pack rugged, and since more didn't have camping gear, it would be provided. Given the nature of the Pine Barrens scavenging would be tricky, but there would be an effort for it. A return to simplicity that the students needed after the last year, or so. SOme more than others. They were completely helpless, but they were not oing full scavenge, the Pine Barrens wouldn't allow for it, and they had to account for water too, after all. Also it would serve as a senior project for Elias, who he had to come up with the study, as well as teach some of his skills to other. So he was being graded on this, as well as him being watch to see if he was truly socialized, as Mr. Landis argued the kid was ready to... whatever awaited him after graduation. So with the van parked, packs were taken, ameneties were kissed goodbye. There wasn't much lead in to, but those familiar with Elias knew that would be the case, as the telepath always seemed apt to go off half-cocked and do things. So him packing a machete might be a concerning, but he waited for everyone to get ready, and he glanced to Mr. Landis, who shrugged and gestured back to the kid. "Okay... Camp site is five miles." And he moved handing each of them a map and compass. "It should be an easy hike, there is no change in elevation. Try to avoid powers if possible, and unfortunately we can't really hunt, but we can do snares when we get settled, but the seaon is bad for it. I know some of you don't really need any additional survival stuff, but..." He frowned a little bit, and then he moved to pluck a pale green lichen from the tree, "I guess we have to start somewhere, this is Old Man's Beard. It will work as wound packing, and the stretchy semi-clear interior," he said as he rubbed at the outside of the plant so it will show, "This had some anti-septic properties. It's not much, but if something happens it'll do in a pinch." And with that he stuffed it into a pocket. "Alright let's get going then." And with that he turned and started out down the trail. Clearly not at ease with the task at hand. A couple hours later and some kids more tired than others, they were at the spot, though it wasn't finished. "I'll work on the firepit. We're start here by looking for sufficient stuff to make a lean to. So you want groundfall limbs, several of about six feet or so" And with that he set his stuff down, and then started on working at making a centralized fire for which they had could be set up. It was needed, given rain was likely. "And pine boughs will be useful too, we wont really have anything else."