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From an early age, Jaden Maxwell had showed a love for cooking and baking, and was surprisingly talented at it too. Even before entering high school, he was able to confidently fry simple meals like eggs and bacon, or even put together mouth-watering chocolate chip muffins for a bake sale. Needless to say, he was very much within his element when making tasty delicacies. The sight and smell of freshly-baked bread and rolls alone was enough to remind him of the good times he had growing up...and that he still had a lot to live for. Wanting to give something back to the locals, he had opened up a small bakery on Riverside. A humble and modest shop that was set up like a square and painted with warm colors such as white and soft browns. Tables and chairs were set up outside and surrounded by rows of bushes with blooming flowers and roses to give off a pleasant, inviting atmosphere. A large billboard was above the oak door displaying a large tree that had a variety of sandwiches and pastries growing on its branches. Plastered on it were the words: "Homegrown Breads. Have A Slice Of Quality." "Thank you, come again!!" Jaden called out to his latest customers as they left the store carrying their orders. He sighed and nodded to himself with a smile before turning back to fill out another order. Even though the bakery was just getting off its feet, it had already attracted a nice amount of business which likely had to do with the delicious food that came in considerable portions yet at very generous prices too. The young man took a moment to himself to look up at a portrait of a younger version of himself sitting with his Aunt and Uncle under the Christmas tree. Warm smiles everywhere. Hopefully, one day they'd be able to be together again...but for now, there were orders to be fulfilled.

09/11/2016 12:35 PM The Boardwalk Freedom City It really does say something about Freedom City that the men and women on the Boardwalk weren't overly concerned by the sudden sound of speeding cars. The echo of revving engines up and down the long wooden walks. The squealing of rubber tires. Oh, I grant you, the majority of the citizens present still dove for safety when a trio of multicolored sports cars came screaming past, but they didn't let it end their perfectly nice shopping day on Freedom City's famous Boardwalk. The call had come in a few hours before - an 'anonymous tip' from a 'concerned citizen'. Five cars, complete with descriptions of license plates, would be stolen from the parking lot of one of the most expensive hotels in Freedom City. Cars worth millions - tens, if not hundreds of millions - in value. One, even belonging to a noted diplomat visiting from the Middle East. Thanks to the vigilant efforts of the FCPD, two had been stopped at the lot - one by catching the thief in the hotel bar's washroom (attempting to flush a shoe down the toilet?), and the other just before he'd jacked the door. It was the remaining three that were giving the FCPD headaches trying to catch. The first was a Lamborghini (because of course one was a Lamborghini) - it tore down one of the Boardwalk's straightaways, managing to take the lead for a few minutes - skidding around a corner on two wheels. Black, with red neon underlights; she belonged to a notable reality star who was currently screaming at one of the police officers in the hotel parking lot about how she'd sue the pants off anyone who so much as scratched it. The second, riding right on it's tail, was a lovely Ferrari. Cherry-red, of course, and belonging to a pleasantly tubby multi-millionaire internet tycoon; producer of the notable Irate Fowl knockoff of a popular video game series. He wasn't threatening to sue the pants off whoever scratched it, he was more threatening to ruin their credit scores. Yeah, he was one of those people. Bit late for it, either way - the thief behind the wheel wasn't that subtle about ploughing through a souvenir stand, and a Centurion shirt was currently flying like a flag off the back spoiler. And the last...oh, the last. Neon yellow Bugatti Veyron. This was the diplomat's vehicle. Import, with diplomatic plates, and who knew what in the glove compartment. This one was steadily remaining in the middle of the pack, the driver the most conservative of the three. Not to say he wasn't a point of concern - he'd escaped the parking lot by ramping off an asphalt pile and flying over the retaining wall. Credit where it was due, however, the gentleman in the turban who owned the car hadn't stated any threats or made any violent statements of intent if his car was damaged. He didn't really have to - savvy? Either way, under the circumstances - made sense when multiple networks monitored by heroes of the city started screaming blue murder begging for help before someone got killed, eh? Let's see who answered the call and why!

Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines!

Quinn, I want you to make a Nauseate check vs. DC 18. Immunity to Fire Effects doesn't make you immune to hot peppers.

September 4, 2016 Liberty Park, Freedom City Lunchtime The Labor Day cookout was in full gear this year in Liberty Park, the city's largest green spot being covered in colorful tents and packed shoulder-to-jowl with cheerful citizens. Children and parents were celebrating the first long weekend after the start of school, salarimen were relishing the extra day of repose, and just about everyone was enjoying the last burst of summery weather before the inevitable decline into gray, snow, and cold. Tents had been organized along the road-side edge of the park, offering BBQ and face painting and fried food and local art and cold drinks and local radio personalities. In particular, grills and smoke and savory flavors were enveloping the northern corner. A raised platform had been put together and a long table laid down there, with a bright banner above it and speakers affixed at the highest point. The speakers crackled to life as a man in a blue tee-shirt with "WBAL" emblazoned on it tapped on a microphone. "Freedom City, welcome to the annual Labor Day Liberty Cookout!" He paused for cheers and applause from the audience. "This is our biggest year yet, and this year our panel of celebrity judges have fifteen different mouth-watering barbecue plates to sample and rate!"

Monday April 25 Trinity Hospital After the events in Ocean Heights, Rhode Island, and Mexico, the heroes of Freedom City (and indeed the world) are aware of the global threat of the Makot Mitzrayim - the Plagues of Egypt. The threat isn't just the Plagues, of course, but the people driven to hysteria (one way or another) by an apocalypse that seems ("but only seems" Seven stressed in her briefing sent to the major superteams) to correspond to that of the three largest religions on Earth. The Interceptors in particular, thanks to Harrier and Echo's report from down in Mexico, have gotten a strong picture of what's going on. But with only one attack in Freedom City proper, it's easy for most people to let life go on. In the West End in the last few days there's been a freakishly rare flu epidemic, one of those bizarre moments that can happen in a city full of people and exposed to all sorts of exotic chemicals, viruses, and other ailments over the years. Things are bad enough that the hospital is nearly full, getting them to send non-emergency cases home, and they've called out volunteer doctors from other hospitals to help deal with the crisis. The flu can be a scary disease for parents, the elderly, the unlucky - especially when it turns to pneumonia. So if the hospital chapel is particularly packed with people praying for their families and themselves, well, maybe it has nothing to do with the Plagues of Egypt. At least until you turn on the news - and catch the continued cleanup elsewhere in the city, the nation, the world. But the heroes of Freedom have dealt with worse than this...right?

Vanor System Outer edge of the Perseus Arm Lor time mark 1471.5 [March 8, 2016 (Terran Calendar)] The Praetorian spacecraft Kavaca hung at the outer edge of the Vanor system, a small silver drop in a vast field of black dotted with the lights of millions of stars. The Praetorians aboard had been following a faint energy signature, the only possible clue they had to locating a group of Spectrum Knights that had been terrorizing the local sector. In the months since the Praetorians and Star Knights had driven the Spectrum Knights from their base of operations and captured some of the group's key leaders, the remaining Spectrum Knights had been scattered across the galaxy. Although they were individually dangerous, being scattered did mean their rampages were generally brought to a quick end. Of course, this did little to slow the appearance of new Spectrum Knights, as new ones continued to pop up seemingly at random. Then, a little over one Terran week ago, a small group of Spectrum Knights had begun striking at targets within the sector. In response to request for Praetorian assistance, Paradigm had sent Elite, along with Magnetar, Mater Vyrdna, Corona, and a new member to the team, the Terran Queenie, to the sector. "The energy signature associated with Spectrum Knight armor leads into the system Elite." Magnetar commented from his seat on the bridge of the Kavaca where he was manning the ship's sensors. The only other "original" Praetorian aboard besides Elite (Mater Vyrdna did not count, as two thousand years ago, she had been a member of the Delaztri Navy, and not a Praetorian), Magnetar spoke in GalStandard, the only one aboard who could not understand being Queenie. The Vanor star was a red supergiant, so massive that if it sat at the center of the Sol system, it would swallow everything out to about Mars' orbit. A thick asteroid belt was visible clustered around the Vanor star, extending out millions of miles within the system.

OOC thread for this thread. Tag and follow!

There’s been a few threads like this already, so I felt a little inspired. I’m not the talkative or excessively wordy type, so I’ll just get down to busy. I could use a few good men. Or women. I have three PCs in need of assistance with keeping their thread count up. Let’s talk about them a bit, shall we? Terrifica. Early 20s. Supergenius. Does gadgets. Does kung fu. Nerd. Jerk with a heart of the shiniest gold. Has control issues. So much. Obsessed with solving every mystery she comes across. Heart of gold is for the smart/those who use forethought, and the jerk is for those don’t have either of those things. Which is so many. So many. Can show up virtually anywhere in Freedom (or anywhere else on Earth, really) on the trail of a mystery. Samaritan. Teenager. Claremont student. Spiderman, except less funny and human powers instead of spider ones. Generally good natured, but has a savage temper. Miiiight have PTSD. Haven’t fully decided. Good kid, though. Also, very much a teenage boy, no matter how he pretends otherwise. More than a little overconfident. Psychotically protective of his little sister and girlfriend. Has the worst luck when it comes to NOT finding trouble. Queenie. Late 20s. World class chef with a power ring. Lawful good to a fault. Looking for a Superman style hero? Look no further. Hardcore food lover. Drinks too, soft or otherwise. Her identity is based entirely around saving people and feeding something wonderful to the hungry. She’s practically a saint…except for that whole “I don’t care if I die saving someone” thing, the “I don’t need friends” thing, and the “Keep your gratitude to yourself, please” thing. So…yeah… She can be found at her restaurant, the Southern Queen, or patrolling the skies of Freedom like so many others. I try to keep the PCs in my threads limited to 3 (including mine), but more isn’t off the table. If you’re interested in a thread, well…post away. We can discuss ideas. Work something out, maybe. Yeah.

July 15, 2015 The Caribbean SS Mictlan The Captain's Table Day Two of the cruise was formal night, which meant the Captain's Table and a chance to get to know the other superheroes either volunteering or working as security for the Mictlan's maiden voyage. Edge and Monsoon had spent the first day of the cruise mingling, Mark and Nina doing their best to put aside Freedom City and Socotra and enjoy a rare vacation. Having gotten to know his girl pretty well over the years, Mark had been worried that Nina would resent being thrust into the role of "girlfriend of the famous UN hero" - but as it happened Nina hadn't spent much time worrying about that at all. "So you see, Captain Festus," the water controller was just saying, pausing as she cut open her rare steak, the glittering yellow at the head of her costume a warm color in the light of the crowded dinner deck, "Socotran refugees will be among the most motivated people your line can hire. They'll work hard, be comfortable even with low pay, and the older ones will know how to fight if there's trouble." "Well, I don't really know anything about that," said Festus with a cheerful chuckle as he dabbed at the steak sauce dotting the edges of his regulation graying beard. "And you know, normally we don't need quite this much security on a cruise ship! But the line wants to make sure the new engines are protected - they were made from experimental technology the US government developed back in the 40s, you know, and you never know what some super-hooligan will try to steal! Hoh-hoh-hoh!" Having been busy with an autograph, Edge turned back to the captain and the other guests around the table. The dining area was indeed crowded; it looked like almost everybody who could had gotten on their best clothes for an old-fashioned cruise ship dinner. It reminded Mark of pictures he'd seen from his parents' honeymoon, and his father's world travels. "People from Socotra get profiled a lot," he said quietly, "but you won't find better people." He reached under the table and squeezed Nina's hand. Eating in costume in a formal setting might have been strange for some people, but this was the kind of thing Mark had quite literally grown up doing. As for Nina, he thought she could look regal sitting in the dirt, much less in costume. "Ah, there's the rest of our guests now!" Festus waved cheerfully as another group of costumed individuals arrived - after all, who could turn down a place at the Captain's Table? No one - not if they were being paid to appear in public in costume as part of their time on the all-expenses-paid, six-decked luxury cruise liner as it steamed from Miami to Venezuela and back again over the space of two gorgeous sun-kissed weeks.

Feel free to make whatever Well-Informed checks you want to know things about other heroes! Not to mention Medicine for first aid with the Captain.

GM Post Neo Harare (of the former Congo Republic), PAU. 4216 AD Neo Harare. Brilliant Capital of the People's African Union, the second most influential power bloc on Earth, and the 4th most influential power bloc among the United Earth and Colonies Federation for the last three centuries. One week ago, it concluded the hosting of the Games of the DLXXXI Olympiad, celebrating humanity's achievements throughout the passage of time. Now, the city, along with its citizens, can only stare in abject horror, as the entire Advanced League of Oceania was being rapidly reduced to ashes. President Alphonse Massamba-Tchicaya conferred with the Azure Champion, the world's strongest human alive. "... and we have no word from the rest of the United Freedom League?" Though he remained composed, the Azure Champion couldn't help but take a sudden, swift breath as he recalled losing contact with them, when they arrived at the ground zero. "I'm... sorry, mr President. I'm affraid that we lost contact with them, same as all other heroes who went up against the new weapon the Reformists are fielding." "And we are sure that it can-" "Mr President." The Azure Champion cut President Tchicaya. "You have seen the destruction this weapon has wrought. The so-called Destreamer is the genuine article." Tchicaya seemed to hesitate. The Azure Champion knew what was in the President's mind. It went against everything they stood for. Against everything humanity had fought for, since time immemorial. "Loathe though I am to suggest it, maybe you should consider their terms..." "And have our people used as pawns for their Xenophobic policies?" Tchicaya burst out. "Our people died in droves to fight off the last organization that saw fit to subjugate the rest of the galaxy! Surrendering to the Revengers would not only be a betrayal of our humanity, it would spit on the graves of our ancestors, our ancestors' ancestors, and so on!" "... And if you don't surrender... there will be no one left to feel ashamed." "..." Slinking back on his chair, the president let out a sigh. "What would you have me do, old friend?" The Azure Champion smiled softly, as he flew outside the open window of the Governmental House. "... I will attempt to attack their headquarters. I will gather any hero who's still active, and make for a last ditch effort." Turning his head towards President Tchicaya, he said. "May the Goddess guide you through." A flurry of flashes, the residual energies from the weapons unleashed, kept the night sky alight, as the Azure Champion hastened away. This battle, that shook the very foundation of the Earth, posed threateningly as merely a precussor to what was about to follow; an unfolding of events that would send ripples throughout the history of mankind... Present Day, Freedom City Monday, June 15th, 2015 Evening, 20:10 It started abruptly, without warning. Tears in the fabric of reality started popping left and right, in a seemingly random pattern. For the last hour, Parkside has been riddled with this randomly occuring phenomena, as everything the tears touched seemingly disappeared into nothingness. Then, the tears would close, only for new ones to pop back. Soon, various news outlets arrived at Parkside, making reports about this peculiar incident, and it rapidly became apparent, from the national news, that this wasn't limited to Freedom City; plenty of cities across the American continent were being bombarded by the Tears, albeit within a limited area. As the Tears persist, the first few heroes arrive at the scene...

Southern QueenNorth End, Freedom City, NewJerseySaturday, May 16th, 201512:22 PM Princess Thaelia was glad to be done with her week long excursion to the Pine Barrens. She had no qualms with nature. And even less qualms about spending a week with her schoolmates. But, there was something to be said about the surface world's restaurants that was missed. Which was how Thaelia found herself in the Southern Queen. Students had mentioned it here and there before. But, Thaelia had never attended the establishment prior to the trip. Dressed in green armored toga style dress the Atlantean was a hard sight to miss. Especially when she swung the door open with way too much force. Though not enough force to rip the door right off. "The Daughter of the Seas accepts your gauntlet." Thaelia was referring to an ad in the paper that referenced a gut busting challenge a customer had an alloted amount of time to eat a giant sized meal that could feed a family of five. If complete the food would be free and the winner's picture would be added to a wall. If incomplete, then the loser had plenty of leftovers to take home. This was not an establishment that believed in wasting food after all. The challenge was a temporary promotion fro the day seeking to drum up business. And judging by the Atlantean's reaction, drum up business it did.

The Southern Queen was located near 76th & Wading, technically in the North End of Downtown Freedom. However, it was just as close to Parkside and Lantern Hill. Meaning even people from the West End or Midtown came in sometimes. That said, the regulars were people who all worked or studied at FCU mixed with the odd person who actually lived in the North End. The people who ate there more than once swore by it. The Queen didn’t have any particular style, which worked both for and against it. In fact, the menu itself said right at the top that it was just a list of suggestions, and that the Head Chef would produce virtually any dish on request, provided the Queen (or the customer) had the ingredients on hand. That said, the menu itself was full of generic fare. The kind of thing you could find in almost any home kitchen in America. There wasn’t a drop of fussiness or fancification about it, though some of the combinations were interesting. Which, again, ran entirely contrary to certain food critics’ delicate sensibilities. It was Sunday brunch, meaning Maybelle Mc Queen (Head Chef and the superhero Queenie), was busy as a bee. The place had been packed full to bursting last week, but now? It was a nice day, and they technically had the permits and a little space out front, so a few extra tables and chairs had been placed outside the front door to alleviate the problem. Lo and behold, it worked. There was a free table outside, and a pair inside. Maybelle had been just running around the kitchen all morning. If anyone had looked closely enough, they’d have seen her feet weren’t even on the floor half the time or more and she was moving a little too fast to be on her feet. But…everyone was either too busy or preoccupied, and the Head Chef’s ability to fly when unremarked upon. Then, suddenly, everyone currently seated had their food in front of their faces. Maybelle more or less collapsed into a chair at the free table outside and heaved a sigh. Break time, hooray. Well, sort of.

The Southern Queen was somewhat ideally situated (near 76th & Wading), or so thought one Maybelle McQueen. Though technically in the North End of Downtown Freedom, it was just as close to Parkside and Lantern Hill. Meaning even people from the West End or Midtown came in sometimes. But, mostly it was the college crowd mixed with the odd person who actually lived in the North End. The people who ate there more than once swore by it. The food wasn’t of any particularly style. In fact, the menu itself was more of a list of suggestions than a hard list. The Head Chef was known to produce virtually any dish on request, provided the Queen (or the customer) had the ingredients on hand. That said, the menu itself was full of generic fare. The kind of thing you could find in almost any home kitchen in America. There wasn’t a drop of fussiness or fancification about it. It was the dinner rush, but Maybelle was prepared. Honestly, the cooking was finished for everyone currently seated. So, she was doing her “pretend to be a waitress†thing. Most of her customers had no idea what the Head Chef looked like, or even what her name was. Not that either thing was a secret, but really, how many people going out to eat really care about that sort of thing? The Queen was the draw, not Maybelle herself, and she liked that just fine. She wandered around the dining room, quietly making sure everyone was currently satisfied with their meals. Like every night, there were some dissatisfied customers. Can’t please everyone, after all. But that was all right. Maybelle smiled and smoothed things over. The staff swooped in. The problem got solved. A normal, everyday night.

OOC for this thread in which Glamazon and Queenie will repeatedly get called away before the gut busting challenge could be completed.

December 25th Continued from >Mind Over Matter Fast-Forward was back on the streets of Freedom City so fast he barely had time to grab a candy cane from a department store giveaway as he made his way to his first destination. It was evening New Jersey time when he appeared at Dancia Devons' front door in Lincoln, where his super-speed knock sounded like a machine gun's rat-a-tat before he slowed himself back down (and sped everything else up) until once again he was in sync with the normal world. Knocking firmly, he called, "Dancia Devons! Dancia Devons!" When she opened the door, the Discovery Channel personality on Dancia's doorstep said without preamble, "Scarab needs you to save the world from robot psychics from space." He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was in the hallway; luckily her neighbors were all still enjoying their Christmas. "How quickly can you get to Puerto Rico?"

GM Friday, January 23rd. 2:30 PM. Some days, elbow-deep in elephant droppings, Tara had questioned her decision to intern at the Hanover Zoo. She she swore she would take back all her complaints if she came out of today in one piece. She'd been with Joan in the security station when it happened, thank God. The two of them watched through the cameras as the zoo erupted into utter chaos. Bobo the grizzly charged through the sliding doors of the visitors' center before they were fully open, shattering glass and scattering screaming crowds. Tic and Tac, two of the adult hippopotamuses, smashed headfirst into the zoo train, throwing the school kids riding it roughly onto the ground and scattering sparks that quickly caught in the dry grasses. And then the power went out, leaving them in total darkness. Joan laid a reassuring hand on Tara's shoulder. "Call 911 and stay put," the security guard told her, her voice calm but firm. "I'm going to go break out the tranqs." Fumbling for the door of the security hut, she wrenched it open. Sunlight streamed in, catching on the older woman's silver hair and fierce eyes... and on the horn of the rhinoceros thundering past. Towser didn't even slow as he impaled the door, ripping it from its hinges; Joan leapt back inside, the wind of his passage tugging at her uniform. "On second thought," she told Tara, "I think I'll stay here, too." They ducked under the computer console and stayed very, very quiet. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "It's a damn goat, Simmons! You put a 6'4" guy on his face a week ago, why is this so hard?" Officer Ted Simmons wrestled with the ram, arms straining as he held it back by the horns. It snapped its flat teeth at him whenever it got close, and had already come perilously close to the end of his nose. "I don't wanna hurt the friggin' thing, Sergeant," he shouted back. "I might break its neck if I try to throw it down by the head!" Sergeant 'Pepper' Pettars grunted; he had problems of his own, trying to dissuade a pair of ewes from kicking his shins in. They'd be the laughingstock of the precinct for this. And then Simmons heard the Sergeant's voice again. "Run! Drop everything and run!" He looked up, and the color drained from his face. He let go of the goat, a thunderous trumpeting sounding in his ears, and scrambled back, back toward the police perimeter. He stumbled as the ram butted him in the back of the knee, and it saved his life; a station wagon soared over his head, flipping end over end, and crashed down in front of him, spraying windshield glass in all directions. Some days, he reflected as the elephants bore down on the police perimeter, it really didn't pay to get out of bed.

Exactly what it says on the tin

October 8, 2014. 10:30 AM. Bayview Mall. It was one of the pettiest crime sprees Freedom City had ever seen. Men in armor that looked like it was made from turnips and weapons that looked like they were made from various other vegetables had been raiding candy shops, ice cream parlors, convenience stores, and even small restaurants. At every stop, sugar and fatty food were ruined and destroyed, and fruits and vegetables left in their place. Those who objected were clubbed with mysteriously hard cucumbers and white radishes, left to suffer in the wake of an onion fume bomb, or hit with potatoes that somehow could generate enough electricity to shock people unconscious. The police just didn’t know what to do about them. They appeared quickly and disappeared just as fast. Somebody really, really hated junk food. It was when they started hitting supermarkets and the big restaurants that a hero decided to step in. Queenie didn’t want them harming her precious Southern Queen, so she went out looking for trouble. Fortunately, she didn’t have to for too long. This time they wanted to “cleanse†Bayview Mall’s food court. Queenie smiled. Crazy and stupid. There was no way the Claremont student body would let this go unavenged. Yet, here they were, throwing bombs and ruining food. People running, people screaming, the whole bit. Riiight. Like Maybelle was just gonna stand there and let them do it.

Here's the OOC for Under The Australian Sun!

Sydney, Australia Observation Gallery of the Sydney Tower 3rd of November 2014, 1300 The directions given had asked the various heroes who had answered the call to make their way here- to the headquarters of the Australian Superhero Network- or at least, the central coordination center. One of the sections available to the public, the tower provided a prime viewing location for the vast majority of Sydney, on this slightly cool Spring day. They gathered some attention, standing in costume, but not as much as they might have six months ago- superheroes going in and out of Sydney Tower on business wasn't a rare sight anymore, not since March, and probably would continue for a while. After a few minutes, the three heroes heard the sound of a wheelchair against the floor of the observation deck's floor, as a young-looking woman with brown hair, hazel eyes and light skin pulled up besides them. "Corona, Rift, and... Queenie? I'm Catherine Fields. I'd like to welcome you to Sydney, although I'd wish it were in much better circumstances. Would you like to come with me?"

Queenie Player Name: Eternal Phoenix Character Name: Queenie Power Level: 11 (173/189 PP) Trade-Offs: +3 Toughness, -3 Defense Unspent PP: 16 In Brief: World’s finest chef also has a power ring. Alternate Identites: Maybelle McQueen Identity: Open secret/semi-public Birthplace: Charleston, South Carolina Occupation: Head Chef at the Southern Queen Affliations: None Family: Maynard and Ellen (parents), Simon and Carlyle(brothers), Rose (sister), various extended family members Age: 30 Apparent Age: early 20s Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5’ 6” Weight: 125 lbs. Eyes: Blue Hair: Dirty blonde Description: Maybelle is an attractive woman that appears to college age, although she’s a bit older. She dresses most often in jeans, sneakers, a button down, and a vest. That said, she is not averse to dresses, skirts, and most other articles of clothing. She doesn’t bother with a costume or mask, preferring to just start throwing down in whatever she’s wearing at the time. It’s…a little hard on her wardrobe. History: Maybelle McQueen never intended to be a hero. Her passion was and is cooking. Specifically, making the fruits of world class culinary skills affordable to the masses. She was a culinary student, and a gifted one at that. Then, one day, a silver ring appeared on her dresser as if it had always been there. Thinking it was a gift from her fiancé, Steven (make your jokes now), she picked it up. The virtual intelligence inside started to explain what it and the ring were. Another woman might have panicked at the sudden voice in her head, but Maybelle listened, curious. She listened as it explain about it’s master, the future’s heroine Aura. About how the ring’s power depended on her heroic spirit. And about how there were two other rings somewhere in the world. Again, another woman might have jumped (or adamantly refused) the call to heroism. Maybelle’s answer was a dull “Meh.” Totally uninterested in anything but her dream, she put the ring in her dresser drawer and promptly forgot about it. Unbeknownst to her, the Ring of Aura is part of a stable time loop. History says Aura made three rings and a staff and sent them back in time. Between the four items and her amulet, the world shattering power the maniac known as Auric once had remains sealed away. Aura, a member of the Freedom Legion, knows that if she deviates from history in the slightest, Auric will have access to his full power and thus be able to destroy entire star systems just to spite her. Auric himself was once a man. Somehow (repeated time travel has fuzzed out the details) he became magic incarnate and utterly insane. Aura, with her amulet and its do anything Anti-Magic energy, was the only one in the universe able to stand against him. But with every battle, his power grew until Aura’s amulet hit its limit defeating him again. The battle was…catastrophic. Entire star sectors lay in ruins, testament to Auric’s power and Aura’s failing ability to stop him. There was one chance. Just one. While he recovered, his power was dispersed. If it could be collected and sealed away, he would pose much less threat. Taking some of the unique material from her amulet, Aura made the rings and staff. Together with her amulet, she sealed the power he had not yet regathered away. Even hobbled, Auric would be a potent threat. He had called upon allies before, and there were lunatics who thrived on destruction other than he. Not to mention the ones who might think they could claim his power. She had to get them away. Other dimensions were too dangerous. With a heavy heart, she prepared to cast them back in time. She did take precautions, in the form of the VI. It would attempt to keep the items away from the selfish and greedy and push them towards the noble and heroic. They would have a portion of her power as well, just in case Auric or someone else went chasing after them. Her history wouldn’t change. New timelines would be born. Some would be good, and some would be bad. She knew all of that. But…the next time, Auric would kill her. The Freedom Legion would fall. There was no choice left. The time loop began. A different Aura learned what the original had done, and figured out why it must continue to be done. Steven and Maybelle set a wedding date. Shortly after their graduation. He was training to be a pastry chef at the same school, and that was how they had met. Graduation loomed. Then Auric appeared. He sought to destroy Aura’s legacy and free his power. He knew the ring was in that certain city. He knew the kind of person it would find to wield it. So he started blasting things. Somebody had to stop him. People were going to die. Maybelle balked. She wanted to be a chef, not a hero. The cops were helpless before him. She could help everyone. Just put on the ring and go. But her dream! Maybe if she gave him the ring, he’d leave. It wouldn’t be right. Back and forth, she wrestled against her own nature, the nature the ring had sought out in the first place. Eventually, ring in hand (but not on finger), Maybelle confronted Auric. He could feel the ring on her, and the kind of person she was. Noble. Compassionate. Heroic. It turned his stomach. She had to die, RIGHT NOW. Wait. Who was that who shoved her aside? Why is she screaming that one word? …did she just put on the ring? It wasn’t anger Maybelle was feeling. It was guilt. She had been selfish for once in her life, and now the city was damaged. People were hurt. And Steven…oh God, Steven. If she’d just taken up the responsibility when it had come to her, none of this would’ve happened. It was all her fault, but she refused to let it go one step further. Auric was going down. Except for the small part where she barely knew what she was doing and he very much did know what he was doing. After getting smacked silly, she flew away (God in Heaven, she was flying), knowing Auric would follow her out of the city. After getting to an abandoned area, she turned and fought. He nearly killed her before the thought of her classmates and everyone else at his nonexistent mercy fueled a power surge that broke through his defenses. Critically (but nowhere near fatally) injured, Auric teleported away. Maybelle collapsed into a heap. It should go without saying, but Maybelle finished culinary school. Graduated at the top of her class. She’s had a few adventures since them, but purposefully has no friends and minimal contact with family. Hero work is dangerous, and she’s never losing anyone again. Kind of hard to lose someone important to you if there isn’t anyone like that, you know? A few years after moving to Freedom, and Maybelle’s recovered from the trauma, mostly. She’s still a bit guarded with her personal life, but friends are no longer verboten. In fact, she’s started to look forward to making a few true pals. Or BFFs, as they apparently call them now. …oh, god. She’s getting old. Personality & Motivation: Maybelle is a gregarious type. She’s talkative, smiles easily and often, and is generally very pleasant to be around. She’s also one of the most paragon-y people on earth. She’ll defend others like the proverbial Mama Bear. She’ll stand and fight when all seems lost. She’ll never give up as long as there’s breath in her. Her integrity is unquestionable. Her courage undeniable. Her compassion unmistakable. Even her chef’s work is to make other people happy with impressively excellent food at an affordable price. She’s also a hardcore foodie. Sort of. She doesn’t have much patience with the fancy stuff. Sure, it’s delicious sometimes, but the pretentiousness of it all drives her nuts. It’s food. You eat it. Swear to Jeebus. Power Descriptions: Maybelle wields the Ring of Aura. It can do just about anything the wearer wants it to do…as long as the wearer knows it can do it. The color of all of them is a silvery gray. It has a virtual intelligence that will answer any direct question about the ring and will not sanction lethal force against living targets. Maybelle uses it for a force field, hard energy constructs, moving things, and blasting stuff. She can fly and communicate with any medium (as long as she knows which one it is). Passive effects include life support (barring food and drink-she’d die of despair without good food and wine), increased dodging abilities, and an increase in her awareness of her surroundings. As mentioned before, Aura power is literally Anti-Magic energy. As Maybelle does not yet know this, the effect on mages in her general vicinity presents as minor interference, and generally not noticed amidst the various other things that can cause such interference. However, Aura had powerful magic nullification at her disposal, to the point where weaker magic simply couldn’t function and it is not impossible that Maybelle could one day wield something similar. The two forces, should they be equal, will simply cancel each other out. If not, the stronger one “wins”. Additionally, Impervious of any variety is ineffective, not matter which force is attacking the other. Powers & Tactics: Maybelle’s a protector first. She’ll shield the defenseless, even if the bad guys get away this time or it’ll get her hurt. Property damage is also a thing she strives to prevent, although with less vehemence. Actually fighting? Blasts of energy or physical force. She’s been known to whip out various pots and pans, made with her constructs, to trap her enemies. Complications: Arch-iest of Enemies: Auric promised he’d come back. He despises Aura, maker of the ring, for sealing away the lion’s share of his power and for everything she stood for. Which just so happens to be everything Maybelle is. When he comes back, it’ll be a war. Maybelle hopes it’ll be a loooooong wait. He is ridiculously powerful compared to what she was. Somewhat less so now, but all the same. Not looking forward to the rematch. No So Secret Identity: Maybelle does use a codename, but she’s never worn a costume or a mask. Never saw much of a point in it, given how much footage there is on the internet of Auric kicking her butt across campus. Sooner or later, this one’s gonna bite her in the butt. She just hopes she can handle that when it happens. Chronic Hero Syndrome: Maybelle is completely incapable of leaving someone who needs help…unhelped. She stood aside once. Once. And a lot of people paid the price for it. So, if someone needs help, or just wants some, she’s all over it. To the detriment of her job, her social life (pitiful as it is), eating, sleeping, and everything else. She is fully capable of pushing herself to collapse, should the situation be dire enough. There are limits, obviously. She’s doesn’t intervene in non life threatening situations unless asked to, and she can prioritize. Taking down the bank robbers is a mite more important than getting that cat out of the tree, after all. Though…she will be back for that cat. Just A Chef From South Carolina: In the kitchen, Maybelle is a goddess. She’s assertive, confident, bold, and fully aware of just how good she is at cooking. Out of the kitchen, it’s like night and day. She’s humble and self-effacing to a fault. As aware as she is of her cooking talents, she is just as aware that she isn’t anyone in any other sphere and never thinks she will be. This includes the superheroic sphere. She will deflect any and all praise not related to her cooking skills in polite but firm fashion, and always refrains from even (in her mind) presenting the appearance of being better or knowing more than anyone else. Award ceremonies are skipped. Rewards are politely refused. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time. It’s no big deal. The ring did all the work, anyway. Etcetera. It’s not humility. She truly believes it. Fueled By Heroism: The Ring of Aura requires an exceptionally heroic and noble spirit to function. If Maybelle should for some reason partially or entirely stop being heroic, the ring may become weakened or unreliable. It may even cease to function entirely. If the situation persists, the ring could even seek a new wielder. Additionally, should the ring decide she is behaving heroically enough, it can temporarily give her more power. This manifests as GM-controlled extra effort, with all the costs implied therein. Food, Food, Food. Gotta Cook Some Food: Maybelle runs the kitchen at the Southern Queen, one of Freedom City’s hottest restaurants. They can make the place work without her, but she’s the star of the show. It’s her culinary mastery and budding star presence that have made the Queen’s name. So, she does have to be there sometimes. She does love the place, but life can…get in the way, sometimes. Cooking Is Art, Cooking Is Life: Maybelle loves cooking. Put simply, cooking is her religion. The kitchen, her church. The stove and oven, her altars. She does not know how to shut up about it either, to the eternal annoyance of whoever triggered her. She’s passionate enough when it comes to food that she will often lose all sense and take over a kitchen that served her a poor dish, just to prevent it from happening to anyone ever again. Wasted food is a tragic event. If she’s the one who cooked it, there will be a need for an irresponsible amount of wine. ABILITIES: 0+4+4+6+6+8=28 Strength 10 (+0) Dexterity 14 (+2) Constitution 14 (+2) Intelligence 16 (+3) Wisdom 16 (+3) Charisma 18 (+4) COMBAT:10+10=20 Initiative: +2 (+2 Dex) Attack: +5, +11 w/ Aura Force Array Grapple: +5 Defense: +8 (+5 Base, +3 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat Footed Knockback: -11 (w/ force field), -1 (w/out FF) SAVING THROWS: 7+2+8=17 Toughness: +14/+2 (+2 Con, + 12 Force Field [Imp 8]) Fortitude: +9 (+2 Con, +7) Reflex: +7/+4 (+2 Dex, +2; +3 Enhanced Reflex) Will: +11 (+3 Wis, +8) SKILLS: 48 SP= 12PP Bluff 0 (+4, +8 Attractive) Computers 0 (+3, +15 w/ Comprehend/Datalink) Concentration 8 (+11) Craft (Chemical) 12 (+15)Skill Mastery Diplomacy 7 (+11, +16 Attractive)Skill Mastery Gather Information 1 (+5) Knowledge (Physical Science) 12 (+15)Skill Mastery Notice 4 (+7, +15 w/ Aura Detection) Sense Motive 4 (+7, +15 w/ Aura Detection)Skill Mastery FEATS: 11PP Accurate Attack Attractive Dodge Focus 3 Interpose Luck Power Attack Precise Shot Skill Mastery (Craft [Chemical], Diplomacy, Knowledge [Physical Science], Sense Motive) Uncanny Dodge (Auditory) POWERS: 85PP Device 21 ("Ring of Aura", 105PP Container, Power Feat: Restricted [Those of exceptionally noble and heroic spirit]; Flaw: Hard to Lose) [85PP] 105DP Total Aura Force 12 [24 point Array; Power Feats: Accurate 3, Alternate Power 3] [30DP] Base Power: Blast 11 ("aura blast"; Power Feats: Variable Descriptor 2 [Bludgeoning/Energy]) {24/24} Alternate Power: Create Object 11 ("aura constructs"; Power Feats: Precise, Selective) {24/24} Alternate Power: Snare 11 ("aura bonds"; Power Feat: Indirect 2 [any point, directed away]) {24/24} Alternate Power: Comprehend 3 (Languages; Speak One At A Time, Understand All, Read All) {6} + Datalink 4 (Radio, 1 mile range; Power Feat: Rapid [x10]) {5} + Enhanced Skills 12 (Computers +12) {3} + Environmental Control 5 (Bright Light in 100 ft radius from target point) {10} {6+5+3+10=24/24} Aura Thrust 11 (22 point Array; Power Feats: Dynamic, Dynamic Alternate Power) [25DP] DBE: Flight 1-11 ("aura flight," 10-25,000mph) {2-22/22} DAP: Move Object 1-11 ("aura might," STR 5-55) {2-22/22} Communication 4 ("aura comms," Radio, 1 mile; Power Feat: Variable Descriptor 2 [Any Tech]) [6DP] Enhanced Reflex 3 ("Aura Avoidance") [3DP] Enhanced Skills 16 ("aura detection"; Notice +8, Sense Motive +8) [4DP] Features 1 (Aura VI -- Answers direct questions about the ring’s powers and selects new bearer if necessary, otherwise useless.) [1DP] Force Field 12 ("aura field"; Extra: Impervious 8 ) [20DP] Immunity 9 ("aura life support"; Life Support) [9DP] Super-Movement 2 (Space Travel 2 [Interstellar]) [4DP] Super Senses 3 ("aura compass"; Direction Sense, Distance Sense, Time Sense) [3DP] DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC 15 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Aura Blast Ranged (1,100 ft. max) DC 26 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy or Physical) Aura Bonds Ranged (1,100 ft. max) DC 21 Reflex (Staged) Entangled/Bound Aura Constructs, Dropped Ranged (1,100 ft. max) DC 21 Reflex Avoided Ranged (1,100 ft. max) DC 26 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Aura Constructs, Trap Ranged (1,100 ft. max) DC 21 Reflex Trapped inside object Aura Might, Grappling Ranged (100-1,100 ft. max) Grapple vs. +6 - +16 Pinned/Bound Aura Might/Throwing Throwing (STR 5-55) DC 16-26 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) TOTALS Abilities 28 + Combat 20 + Saving Throws 17 + Skills 12 + Feats 11 + Powers 85– Drawbacks 0= 173/189