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December 12, 2010 The Iceberg, Beneath Freedom City Federal Building, Early Morning: "Lieutenant Factor reporting, sir!" Victory, already in his harness and dressed in his AEGIS standard uniform, saluted his superior. It was time for the morning Briefing before he goes out on patrol. He waited, his salute frozen on his body, until the officer gives him the word. Even then, Lieutenant Factor kept straight up, holding his hands behind his back in standard fashion. He stood very still, something made far easier by the fact that he can simply lock his joints into place, other than his right arm and neck. As he received his briefing, Lieutenant Factor kept full attention, answering briefly, only when he was asked questions directly. The briefing was rather short this morning, and when it was over, Lieutenant Factor saluted again, and turned on his foot and exited the room. As soon as he was out of the door, he removed his hat, and began to unbutton the top of his uniform, heading towards his special changing room.... Downtown Freedom City, 11:00 am "Thank you, mister!" The little girl was glad to be back with her family once again, and gave her silver savior a big hug around the neck. victory, a smile on his face, gave her a pat on her back as she hugged him. When she pulls away, he holds up his hand, and, from a small compartment in his wrist, a lolipop springs up, and his fingers catch it. "Not a problem! You were very brave." Handing her the lolipop, the girl happily takes it, as Victory stands up straight, the soot from the fire falling off his body. As the girl ran over to see her family, her grand father approached him. "Thank you so much for saving my granddaughter, Victory! We didn't think she was going to get out in time..." With his big, heroic smile on his face, Victory carefully pats the old man on the shoulder with his right hand. "All part of my job, sir." With a nod, he turns and gets ready to take off, when he's stopped by a news camera. "Victory! Victory! Can we get a word?" He stops right before take-off, his engines cooling back down. Turning, he puts on his "hero-pose", with his fists against his hips, keeping his elbows wide. "Of course! Only for a moment, though. I must be getting back to my patrol." "Of course. What do you think about the city's latest...." Riverside, 10:00 PM "Split up and stay low! he can't get a-AUGH!" The burglar's escape was cut off by a blinding light blasting in front of his face. In the darkness, their pursuer's lights seemed ominous, almost unnatural. The light gleaming from Victory's visor practically bore a hole through the criminal, who was all but paralyzed in fear. "Drop your weapons and surrender yourselves. Now." The man who got caught right in front didn't seem to be able to figure out what to do. And for that matter, neither did his cohorts behind him. Thinking that they may have a chance to escape, they immediately take off in different directions,heading down the various adjacent alleys. As soon as they do, the one unlucky enough to be right in front of the flying officer unloaded his pistol, screaming. The bullets bounce off harmlessly, and he's barely able to get more than two off before the pistol, and indeed his entire hand, is caught in a crushing metal grip. He didn't have to feel it for very long, though, before a sudden strike against his skull turns his entire world dark. His partners wouldn't fare much better, as they'd find themselves swiftly hunted and brought down. The Iceberg, 12:30 AM, December 13 The whirring and pistoning of the machine finally ends, as Victory's apparatus finishes disconnecting from the rest of his body. Sore, but released from the machine after a 30-minute process, Lance grabbed a hold of the strap dangling above his head. "Alright, sir, you're clear." "Thanks." Hoisting his body up, Lance shifted himself over, landing in the pants suspended up for him to lower in to, and on to his motorized wheelchair right after. Settled in, Lance let out a sigh, and turned the stick mounted into his arm rest to face his mechanic. "Take good care of 'er, Johnson." "Yes, Lieutenant." Lance gives the man a salute, and started his way out the door and back to his bunk. He stopped for a moment, and turned his head to look back at the mechanic. "By the way, will you be at the Holiday party?" "Afraid not, sir. I've already got plans with my family that day." "Ah. Oh well, then. Make sure to enjoy yourself." "Of course, sir. See you tomorrow." One final salute between the two, and Lance makes his way back to his room. He was able to keep a private one, unlike most of the others who have to stay on-base. Moving his chair up to the bunk, he hefts his body up with one hand, swinging on to the bed. Bringing the covers up, Lance sighs, and shakes his head. "Just another day...." he flicked off the lights, and closed his eyes for a well-earned rest.

Based on the Vignette 'Happy Birthday'. Powerhouse's Assumed Birthday is December 25th (For more information, regard the note at the end of; This post Which explains why Powerhouse's Birthday is assigned at December 25th. While I could use his actual birthday, Powerhouse wouldn't realize to celebrate it, and it's just another day for him) ___________________________________________________________________________________________________ His bag held in his hand, Tim Tricoas - also known as Powerhouse with a wig - rushed down the sidewalk towards his work, having to side-step people walking around together and the requisite pane of glass people were moving as he did so. The reason he was running was because, for some reason, the buses weren’t working today, and only his self-control prevented Tim from using his speed or jumping power to reach the building faster, he was only almost late, after all. Almost crashing into the door, Tim attempted to open it, only to find it locked, and hit the speaker, only to get no response. ‘Sherry must be away from her desk.’ Tim fumbled in his coat for his keys, reaching through his pockets at the snow built up on the shoulders of his jacket; he realized he didn’t have them. Head-butting the door just enough to avoid breaking it, Tim sighed. “Tim? What are you doing?†a voice asked from behind him, causing time to turn around, shaking out snow from his head. Behind him was a guy wearing a thick coat, and Tim’s supervisor. Tim waved. “Hello Sir. I’m trying to get into work and I forgot my keys, can you let me in?†The man offered a strange stare at him, making Tim feel slightly uncomfortable. After staring at him for almost a full minute, the man finally spoke up again. “Tim. It’s Christmas. Go home.†He finally said, before turning around and walking back to people who must have been his family, and walking off, leaving Tim standing in front of the locked doors staring after him. “But...what’s Christmas?†He asked to the man’s retreating back in a whisper, heading back to his family, and though the man did not turn, and, after a few minutes, left with his family, smiling and laughing about the day they were having. Having no work to go to, and no one to visit- even a visit from Metatron or Cherubim would be great, even if that would end with him beaten, bloody, and dragged back to Yellow Forest- Tim, still not understanding why all these people were hanging out together, decided the best thing he could do was to turn back to his normal identity and stop crime, so the dark haired Tim, wearing his full overcoat, decided to go off to fight crime, having nothing else to do today meaning that it was either that, or sleep, and he wasn’t tired. So, Tim ducked off into an ally, hid behind a dumpster, and quickly took off his costume, becoming Powerhouse once more, and then leapt up to a nearby building to look over the city, watching for crime so that he might stop it. Standing on a building, Powerhouse was like a dark avenger of the night, if the Dark avenger wore no shirt, had no cape, wore brightly colored spandex pants, and had no crime to fight. Indeed, for all of Powerhouse’s attempts to be a Hero today, the only people out seemed to be a handful of drunks, and even he realized there probably wasn’t a reason to go after them, maybe they’d just shuffle home and not hurt anyone, so he was left sitting on a building, waiting for something, anything, to go wrong. Then again, when something DID go wrong, he always seemed to get there too late, either some other Hero was already wrapping things up- and Powerhouse stayed away from them, as he would have hated to seem like he was trying to steal their spot-light- or they were false alarms, and nothing bad was going on. So after about four hours of trying to be a hero, and failing, Powerhouse gathered up his things, and went back to his apartment, somewhat dejected, but realizing there was no reason to be a Superhero today, for some reason, probably related to this ‘Christmas’ thing. Dropping his bag next to the door of his apartment, Powerhouse removed the wig that hid him from the world and dropped onto his desk. It was a sparse apartment, a desk, a bed, and one of those T.V. things, and a single clock on his desk. He sat at the desk quietly for a time, not working on anything, instead looking outside through his window. He spared a look at the clock, however, after a bit. “Huh…11:59.†He muttered, picking up the item while the red lights stared back at him. It changed. “I think that means I’m a year older now.†Powerhouse muttered, something like his age was meaningless to him. It did not mean he was older, or wiser, simply that he put a different number in his ‘age’ category. Putting the clock down on the desk and standing up. “Happy birthday…†He added, to himself, as he fell into his bed. His first birthday free from Yellow Forest, and, for some reason, it felt worse than it had there. That should have been impossible, but as the Hero curled into a ball on his cramped bed, he did not dream of happiness. He dreamt of clocks, for a time, then awakened once more, at 2AM, unable to effectively sleep anymore. Left with that, and no ability to sleep, he sat on his bed in his cramped apartment, and thought about what it meant to be a Year older. Not a lot was his eventual response, being a year older meant almost nothing to him. He had spent about half a year free now, and all he could count for his age was ‘time in the Forest’ versus ‘Time free’, and all he hoped was that, somehow, he’d manage to end up with more ‘Time Free’ then ‘Time in the Forest’ whenever he died. Powerhouse thought about these for several hours, attempting to judge what his life was worth, and came up with almost nothing. “I…don’t really have a life do I?†He thought, looking out of his single window. “I guess I stop bad guys, but I don’t have anything else, do I?†He stared at the falling Snow. “But that’s okay, isn’t it? There always has to be a person who doesn’t have time for masks, doesn’t have time to live a normal life. I suppose I can just be that person.†He said, grinning at his own hands, though he felt hollow inside. He went out and patrolled again, from 10AM till 5PM, but there wasn’t a single crime in sight and at 5, he just went back to his apartment again.

3rd December, City Hall, Central Freedom City. Public Service Announcement: Radiation is safe! Supercape landed as elegantly as he can in the recording studio, and promptly changed his magnificent blue and white cape into a pristine lab coat. It had become a sort of second costume for him now, with all the work he was doing at the lab, and he was almost as well known for it as he was his traditional cape outfit. His mask remained, as did his blue and white shirt and trousers. His cape had gone, and a pure brilliant white classic lab coat had took its place. It was unnaturally white, as if a hundred washing up powder advertisers had all gone to work on it. He was greeted, rather stiffly, by a middle aged studio executive, a Rodney Riverwood, who gave Supercape a curt handshake and stuffed a script in his hand. "Right then" he started, in a no nonsense manner. "Thanks you all your work with the Lab, you have been volunteer... err... elected that is, by the departments of security, health, and energy, to give a public service announcement to the people of America. " "Don't know why we need a brit like yourself, but from what I understand, you are all radioactive or something, and the public would take it from you best. Can't say you would have been my first choice, but what do I know, I have only been doing this thirty years. " He coughed, not meeting Supercape's eyes. "Anyway, take a look at the script, we roll in 5. I'm sure a bright chap like you can memorise it all, or something. " And with that, Mr. Riverwood strode off. Supercape was rather shocked. He didn't quite know what to make of Mr. Riverwood, other than the obvious conclusion that the man didn't want to be here, and was in a foul mood. He gazed at the script he was given, scanning it quickly. It looked straightforward enough, in that the message was clear. The facts, well, they looked like they had been contorted, bent and distorted enough to only just hold on to the definition of fact - and only if one was feeling generous and wasn't looking too hard. "Just relax, and read of the Autocue" called out RIiverwood, from a megaphone. "And 3...2...1...Action!" Supercape looked around and coughed. Of course, he was fairly used to public speaking. Didn't like it much, but he could delivery an acceptable oratory. In a curious way, talking into a camera was somewhat easier, as he wasn't aware of the multitude of eyes on him, as he would be in a lecture hall. INTRO: RADIATION: WHY IT IS SAFE AND GOOD FOR AMERICA. "Hello. You may know me as the hero Supercape, from Freedom City. You may also know that I am one of the heroes who run the Lab, one of the finest scientific institutes in the world, and home to some of the finest heroes, who work tirelessly ensuring that our fine countries science continues to advance, in a safe, secure, and...err.... family-friendly..... way" "*Ahem*" "You have probably heard, and may be concerned about the nuclear reactors that supply this country with energy. Like the electricity that lights and warms your homes, or even powers the televisual sets you are watching this on friendly laugh.... oh...I mean hahahaha. " "*Ahem*" "I am hear to reassure that radiation is a perfectly...safe...and...harmless...method of producing energy. All the nuclear reactors are fully protected from any assault, with failsafes for every eventuality and round the clock security cut to stock footage...oh..." "But if the worst should happen, and there is a problem, what should you know? Well, radiation comes in all forms. Light, for instance is a radiation, in this case, from a particle called protons. In nuclear reactors, other types of radiation may be emitted. This type of radiation is something you can't see, so remember: even if you can't see it, if you alerted to a radiation hazard, you must emphasis take all precautions. " "If you can, evacuate from the area as soon as possible. Heavy metal lining, such as lead, can help shield you from hazardous radiation. Seek medical attention once it is safe to do so. Decontamination procedures can help. Once in a safe area, remove all clothing and items that may have been exposed to radiation, and if possible, scrub and bathe yourself thoroughly. " "Remember pause radiation is safe, but invisible and dangerous. Hold on, that's straight out of George Orwell's 1984..." "CUT!"

"Confidentiality" Stesha had never been to ArcheTech's main lab before. It was a very impressive, almost intimidating place, even more so because today she was here in her civilian clothes. Her green hair, pinned up in braids and rings close to her head, and surrounded by flowers, was the only obvious sign of her metahuman origin. Besides that, she looked like any other woman in a flowing pink blouse and elastic-waist jeans. The nice receptionist put her somewhat at ease, giving her a pass and directing her to the arrows that would lead her to her destination. After a quick bathroom detour, Stesha headed up in the elevator, following the arrows that led her to a small side laboratory that looked somewhat like a normal doctor's examining room, except for a few extra large pieces of equipment around. It was also empty, which she hadn't exactly expected. She stepped inside anyway and found a note sitting on the bed. "Sorry I'm a little delayed, please get into the robe and wait just a moment." Stesha sighed and did as requested, stripping and neatly folding her clothes, then slipping into the robe and tying it closed. She sat down on the end of the paper-covered exam bed and covered herself with the paper towel sheet, then hugged her arms to her abdomen and waited in the quiet humming of the machinery. She hoped Doc was right about this referral. The wait wasn't long, much to Stesha's relief. In just a couple of minutes, there was a light tap on the door, and then a beautiful woman in a white lab coat walked in. A seriously beautiful woman, and if Stesha hadn't been used to dealing with Moira, her jaw might have dropped. The doctor closed the door and took out a fancy-looking iPad with a lot of extra technical baubles attached to it, and gave Stesha a friendly smile. "Hello," the blonde said, "I'm Miss Americana. You must be Fleur de Joie? I understand you asked Doctor Archeville for a female metaphysician?" Miss Americana did some sizing up of her own, looking over her new patient. She certainly looked the part of the earth mother, with her green, flower-bedecked hair, dirt-edged fingernails, and cutely guileless face. That face was a little green as well, but she couldn't tell at a glance if that was normal or if it were an offshoot of Fleur's current situation. Only one way to find out. "That's right," Stesha replied, "but you can call me Stesha. Doctor Archeville says that you're very good, and I thought I would just feel more comfortable with a woman doctor for this, you understand?" "Yes, of course," Miss A reassured her, with a totally believable smile that she didn't entirely feel. She knew more about medicine and certainly more about life science than most doctors, but she'd never actually conducted a proper examination of a living human being before. But a day of practice for her was equivalent to a year of study for the average human, so she felt reasonably prepared. Mostly. "This is a very special time for you, and I want you to be comfortable. Or as comfortable as possible while you're wearing a paper gown, anyway," she added with a wink. "Yes, that's sort of a limiting factor," Stesha grimaced. "Do I really have to wear this? It's sort of... drafty." "Sorry," Miss A told her sympathetically. "I have to do a quick pelvic check in a few minutes, so you need to wear the gown." "Oh God." Stesha's grimace deepened. "Are you serious?" "It's very important," Miss A assured her. "I need to check and make sure your cervix is tightly closed and in the right position, and get a couple of swabs. It won't take long. If it makes you feel any better, the table has already gotten your weight, temperature and blood pressure, so we've skipped the entire first part of the exam right there." "I guess, a little," Stesha allowed. "Just don't tell me how much I weigh. I don't even want to know." "No problem," Miss A told her, "but I will say that you've got nothing to worry about so far. You said you think you're about thirteen weeks, is that correct? When was the first day of your last period?" "The first or second of September," Stesha replied, with the air of someone who had long since worked out the answer to that all-important question. "That's really why I didn't notice for awhile, the beginning of October and November were both so crazy, I didn't even think about it till sometime in the first week of November." Miss A nodded and did a few calculations on her pad. "You're exactly right then, you're at thirteen weeks and four days now, with a due date of June 2. Though that's a ballpark, you have to understand. Those can be off by as much as two weeks in either direction." "Oh, I know," Stesha said with great feeling. "My mom is a midwife, so she's drummed that into me thoroughly. I want her to do most of my care if that's possible, but I want to get a clean bill of health first, before we tell them anything. I'm not quite human anymore, you know?" "That seems sensible," Miss A agreed. "How have you been feeling? Any dizziness, nausea, heartburn, insomnia, food aversion?" "Not as much now," Stesha told her, furrowing her brow in concentration. "Still pretty sleepy and hungry, a lot more so than usual. Generally my power allows me to go without when I want, but not anymore. But the nausea's mostly gone away, and I only had a couple of dizzy spells ever." "That sounds very normal," Miss A said approvingly, making a few notes on her pad. "Are you taking a vitamin and getting plenty of water? You said your appetite has been good, what are you eating?" "Everything I can get my grubby little hands on," Stesha admitted with a laugh. "I'm trying to eat plenty of fruits and veggies, drink a lot of milk, but the other night I sent my fiance out at three in the morning, in costume no less, to buy me another box of Rice Krispie Treats cereal. I think I've eaten a case of it by now. But it's vitamin-fortified!" she added, looking imploringly for Miss A's approval. "There are probably worse things you could be eating right now," Miss A allowed with a chuckle, "but sugary cereal is not going to take the place of a good prenatal vitamin. Why don't you lie back, and I'll let the sensors take a look at you before we do anything else. They'll be able to tell me what your internal chemistry is up to, and anything we might need to watch out for. We'll save the rest of it for last." She wasn't looking forward to that part any more than her patient was. "All right," Stesha agreed with a sigh, laying back against the bed with her head on the flat foam pillow. "I'm a little cold," she admitted. "Is there a thermostat in here?" "No problem," Miss A assured her. "I'll take care of it." Maybe it was out of some kind of nascent guilt for misrepresenting herself, but Miss A made sure to take good care of her patient. She dimmed the overhead lights and bumped up the thermostat, covering Stesha with a permeable sheet that the sensors could look through easily before retreating to the booth to take readings. As an afterthought, she turned on the ambient speakers to the soothing channel the company used in the wellness rooms for scientists in sort need of naps. Relaxing chime music played softly as the scanners went to work, checking over the prone superheroine's unique body chemistry. It was interesting enough work to hold Gina's attention, even as the scans revealed Stesha relaxing into a little nap on the table. The plant controller's body chemistry was very strange, but seemed stable and in balance for what it was. Gina wished sorely for a set of baseline readings, but apparently Doc had never managed to talk her onto one of his lab tables before today. She'd have to work with what she had, but it all looked pretty promising. As she worked, using the robot's senses and hands to access and interpret the data, Gina acknowledged to herself how much she actually enjoyed doing this sort of thing. The engineering was her first love, and what she was best at, but she liked helping real people, live people like this as well. Maybe that's why she'd been drawn to the idea of building medical prostheses in the first place. She didn't want to waste time in medical school or anything like that, but maybe it was time to improve her knowledge of the field even more. Miss A spent long enough looking over the readings for Stesha to get a restful little nap, waking gradually as the lights came up over a period of a minute or two. She yawned, disoriented for a moment, then looked around to see the labcoat-clad heroine coming around the partititon. "Mm, I guess I fell asleep there. How do I look?" she asked, a little nervously. "I don't have a set of baseline readings to go off," Miss A began, "but what I'm seeing now looks good. You both seem to be very healthy and doing just fine. I see a strong heartbeat and good blood flow. You can hear it too, over the microphone." She pressed a button, and suddenly the air was full of a fast, swooshing patter that sounded like a water pump working at full capacity. "Wow," Stesha said with a silly grin. "That's great. That's amazing. Wait till I tell D- Dark Star. He's going to be over the moon. Maybe literally." She laughed, closing her eyes to listen to the sound until Miss A deactivated the speakers. "It's all really good to hear. I feel so much better. Better enough to even be ready to get the pelvic over with." "It's good news," Miss A agreed, "but I think you really should get some continued monitoring here, just to be on the safe side throughout. I'm sure you'll be most comfortable doing most of it with your mom, but we have the equipment here to check up on your unique physiology. I want to make sure everything keeps looking as good as it does today." The talking helped to distract her as she got set up, enough of her mind on her work to let her be competent, but not enough to let her think too much about it. "All right, now scoot to the edge of the bed and put your feet in the stirrups." "I guess that's a good enough compromise," Stesha said, a little reluctantly, even as she moved to comply. The pelvic exam was about the same as she remembered, uncomfortable but fast, and then it was done and she could sit up, as quickly as possible. "Uck." "But now it's done," Miss A reminded her, hiding her own squick behind a perfect professional smile. She was just glad Stesha hadn't looked up to see her face. "The results will be back in a week or so, and I'll let you know if there's anything to worry about. In the meantime, get a good vitamin regimen going, and make sure to keep up with exercise at whatever level you feel comfortable with. And congratulations, you and Dark Star are very lucky." "I know," Stesha said, her reservations melting away into a brilliantly happy smile. "We're the luckiest people in the world. I'm so excited! Thank you so much for your help, Miss Americana. I really felt very comfortable with you as my doctor." "I'm glad," Miss A replied. "Just let me know if you have any questions or if anything comes up. My phone is always available." She left to allow Stesha to get dressed, waiting till she was outside to take a deep breath. In a life full of strange experiences, Gina wasn't sure that hadn't been one of the weirdest.

“I can explain--†Bombshell continued to be yanked back and forth in the cage of eldritch and telekinetic power. She went quiet, hoping not for the first time that she wouldn’t end up pulled apart like a Christmas cracker. “While I do appreciate your help tonight, I really would like to remind you that this is both my building and thus the matter should be in my hands.†The petite telepathic powerhouse known as Young Freedom’s Psyche was saying as she gave a gentle tug on Bombshell’s wrists, trying to get her away. “In your hands to let her go? She’s a well known felon!†The enigmatic Phantom responded in her eerie rumble, tugging on Bombshell’s feet until she was slowly flipped sideways. Not for the first time did Bombshell wish that Scarab was able to read her at least for a mental SOS. “Ladies, please,†Bombshell interjected and when they both looked her direction, she couldn’t help but say, “There is enough of me to go around.†Well, at least they were both glaring at her now. “Look,†Bombshell continued with a disarming smile. “I’m not here to steal your McGuffin. Whatever it is. Tech, it’s not my thing. I’d offer to let you try and do the brain scan, but well, that’s never as easy as it looks. The Scarab can vouch for me. I’m new leaf now! All squeaky clean and PG-13.†And now there was simply patent disbelief. Bombshell grunted as she was tugged from the telekinetic grip on her wrists - which she strongly suspected the teenager had let go rather than risk injury and found herself thrust up against a wall. “Little bit of a hypocrite aren’t you?†Bombshell asked the cowled mystic, “Don’t you run with the grim and gritty types? Compared to them, I really am silver-plated.†Phantom’s low growl was her only response as that barb hit its mark. Comparing broken limbs to borrowed goods was really apples to oranges but it did make it hard to throw stones at the ex-thief. “Phantom,†it was the high, clear voice of the teenager now, floating slightly behind Phantom, her expression disapproving. “Scarab vouches for her, isn’t that enough?†“Is it enough for you?†Phantom responded, those burning white eyes boring into Bombshell as she held her against the wall of one of AEGIS’s research facilities. “It would be enough for me.†Psyche replied unhesitatingly, her clear gaze meeting Bombshell’s with that same eerie all-knowing serenity that Scarab had sometimes but in the Scarab, that was balanced by the heavy weight of years and years. Those wise eyes in the smooth face of a child unnerved Bombshell more than the angry wrath of any dimensional guardian ever would. Her gaze skittered away from Psyche’s and around the room, looking for an exit even as she said, “The girl’s right. You’re a bit behind the times, I’m afraid. I saw the lightshow disturbance when I was swinging by and thought I’d take a peek in to make sure that it wasn’t anything weird. Weird-er, I should say. It is Freedom City.†“That ‘lightshow’ was an interdimensional disturbance... I suppose that was nothing to do with you either,†Phantom rumbled angrily, her grip not loosening even a little bit as the cloak and shadows around her flared out. “Ah, no?†“It wasn’t, Phantom. That was an experiment by one of my research and development team.†Psyche spoke up again, quiet and patient but now she had the mystic’s attention. “I’m sorry, if I had any idea it would have been remotely successful, I would have registered the experiment with the appropriate boards but as it was, it is an unrepeatable anomaly that will be keeping that team busy for quite some time. I am very sorry if you were disturbed by it.†“Unrepeatable anomaly?†Phantom muttered, turning her hooded head but her grip slackened enough that Bombshell gave one quick wriggle and dropped out of the eldritch bands holding her against the wall and quickly dropped behind a stack of crates in the corner to hide. “No, no thank you. No more hugs,†Bombshell said, waving her gloved hands slightly, “This has all been very engaging. Apologies to the teen wonder for intruding. Now, if its quite alright with you all, I’ll be on my way....†“Now, wait just a second, goldilocks...†Phantom started, pivoting in place before Psyche said softly, “That’s enough, I think.†She glided between the two women and held her hands out, turning towards Phantom first, “I realize that yours is a thankless job and I’m very sorry that you were pulled out of whatever activity that you were in the middle of tonight for something that turned out to be a false alarm but that is my fault, not this woman’s. If you’d like to take someone to task, you’re welcome to let me know just what I did wrong. Alphabetically or categorically, your preference. But I am not about to stand by and watch you harass someone who is entirely innocent. It doesn’t matter if she committed a crime ten years ago or just last week. She did nothing wrong tonight and it is not for you to judge.†Then she pivoted towards Bombshell and fixed her with that intense look, “You, however, should not take advantage of the fact that you are innocent, to see just how far you can push the envelope. You are, in fact, trespassing. With likely mingled good intentions and plain old curiosity, but you know full well what it looks like, especially with your past. False outrage and mock innocence is beneath you.†Psyche paused and then lowered her hands to her sides slowly, “I think, perhaps, it might be time for you both to leave. I appreciate the intentions of both of you in coming here but things are well in hand and neither of your formidable skills are needed tonight. It has been a pleasure. I think you both know the way out?†Bombshell and Phantom both blinked before Bombshell slanted a glance towards Phantom and offered, “Out of the mouths of babes?†“I still don’t like you.â€

"Wait, seriously?" "Mm." "You built that - all of that - without a college degree." "Yes." "You’re not even a student?" "No. Never put a foot on a campus." "Huh." A dim glow illuminated a cramped metal room that didn’t have much room to spare after accommodating the two trapped heroes - could an observer see in the inky blackness (and, dear reader, why not?) they might note the curious contrast - the sword-wearing, goggled, longcoat-clad Gaian Knight at one end cross-legged on the floor, and the technologically-gifted, gauntleted, visor-obscured Dragonfly leaning back at the other, feet propped up on a wall as she stared up at their metal prison. "Seriously, though," the earthmover probed, mostly to fill the silence. "Never? Not even a single class?" The inventor only shrugged. "No. High school, either. GED, though. Safety nets...mm. Why? That surprising?" "Well, I mean...well yeah. You don’t think it’s a little weird to build all that stuff with just a GED?" She tilted her head, apparently pondering that for a minute. "Maybe," she conceded. "Not sure someone who doesn’t breathe can talk about ‘weird’." He had to laugh at that, throwing up his hands. "Hey, hey. Alright. In my defense, I normally DO breathe. I just don’t really have to when I’m underground." "Mm." There was silence again, filled only by fidgeting and the quiet, almost imperceptible noise coming from Dragonfly’s gear. Far, far above the metal roof came the noise of machinery and shouted orders. "So, uh, I don’t mean to pry. But...why?" came the question that once more broke the silence. "Didn’t really see a point. Know plenty...could teach half the classes. By proficiency. Experience poor, patience...mm. May not be suited for it. But have the knowledge." "Well, sure, okay. But there’s so much more to it than that! I think you’d gain a lot by getting a-" He barely managed to cut himself off before saying ‘proper education’. "...a solid college experience." She turned her head and raised an eyebrow, her shifting audible in the close quarters and silence. "Examples?" she challenged. "Like....erm. It’s a whole...social....I mean, it’s not what you learn, it’s what you....that is...." He trailed off, and he could see (Bless you a thousand times, fancy and expensive goggles.) her flat stare, the full force of a stubborn and unamused young woman turned in his direction (Curse you a thousand times, fancy and expensive goggles.). "You could...meet people your own age?" he finished, rather weakly, his hands spread in an unseen gesture of helplessness. She snorted, turning her head back up to look up at the ceiling. The noise was changing, now, the dim sound of machines being turned on and sending vibrations that made the metal walls hum. "Little use for people my age. ...am not that young, anyway." There was silence again, though this time the sounds from above were muffled by the terrible awkwardness that filled the air. Both heroes, magic and science, cheered inside as they heard a loud and reverberating hum through the ground, as if some massive generator had been switched on up above ground. They stood up, adjusting their respective coat or jacket and making sure they were leaving nothing behind. Her gauntlets were already charging, lines of blue and quietly illuminated glass; his hands glowed a soft golden brown in the darkness as he reached out with his senses and felt the earth above them. "Ready?" "Mm. Ready. Teleporting in five...." Then there was a flash, the sound of air rushing to fill a vacuum, and nothing. The little metal container sat silent again and empty, deep beneath the earth while sounds of fighting broke out on the surface above.

Midtown; Sunday 28th November The Millenium Mall was always quiet on a Sunday morning. As the blond- scruffy man sauntered across the main plaza, no one even noticed his passing, but for one grim man with greying hair and a walking stick. The blond man smiled through the glare, even as John Fraser turned his irritance at the early hours upon some poor unsuspecting barista. Casually, the blond man walked into a side door through into a small janitor's closet. The janitor inside put down his coffee mug, but could barely open his lips to protest the sudden intrusion before his head had been slammed clean through the folding steel table into unconsciousness. Siobhan Drake browsed through the small occult books section of the bookstore, frowning. They were all either too expensive, outrageously misinformed, or both. While flicking through a slender volume on the lycanthropic 'myth', she felt an odd throbbing at the base of her skull, her hands shaking of their own accord. Something big's happening. Putting down the book, she briskly left the store and headed towards the female bathrooms. John Fraser frowned as he sipped the vile, cheap coffee. Better than nothing, I suppose. Still garbage, though. Then the smell hit his keen sense. Brimstone cloyed up his nostrils and made him sneeze. Glancing around, it looked like nobody else had really picked up on it. Fortunately, (or unfortunately) he had much keener senses than the average joe on the street. And as such, he quickly picked up his cane and headed off to the parking garage to get his motorcycle and costume. The mystic blast blew a small chunk of wall out from where the maintenance closet once was. Unnaturally red and green flames burst forth in a cloud of acrid grey smoke, the explosion sounding less like a bang and more like the bark of a hundred angry Rottweilers. The few shoppers present in the shop fled as the blond haired man, Keter, strode calmly and unharmed forth from the flames, soaked in blood across his torso and on his arms up to his elbows. At his heels pranced three dog-liked creatures, hair- and skin-less, each with teeth like daggers and claws like swords. Every one had four eyes a deeper, more putrid green than the saliva dripping from their jaws, sizzling as it hit the floor underneath them and melted the cheap tiling. Keter reached down and petted one absently, fingers running through the scaly ridges on the back of its head where its ears should be. Snarling, it lunged to bite at his hand, only to have its head blown clean from its shoulders in a shower of ichor, hellfire spouting from Keter's splayed fingers. "Bad dog," he growled in a low tone. With casual disinterest, he watched the woman in the black trenchcoat glide down towards him from the upper level. Her translucent white wings faded into nothingness as she dismissed the spell, wand levelled at Keter's head. "Simon," she said simply, expression neutral in spite of her blazingly white eyes. "I see you've not changed much." Keter scowled at her, but held a hand out to keep his two remaining hellhounds from leaping at her. "Siobhan, you know I prefer my real name," he said, annoyance not even present in his tone. "I've come to ask for your help. We could achieve so much." He looked pleadingly at her. "I know our methods don't agree, but perhaps I could try and convince you." "No, Simon," Equinox said wearily, shaking her head. "Last time, we both nearly died. Please, just give up. I'm not helping you. We can talk about it, but I will never do things your way. It costs too much." She flicked her wrist, a white aura of force appearing around her like a balloon. "Come with me. Please." Keter shook his head, nostrils flared. "I don't think you understand me, Siobhan. I was offering you out of courtesy. Bring her in, boys." His posture and tone didn't even change as the two hounds leapt at Equinox, slavering and roaring. Without a second thought, she'd pointed at one with the wand, a brief blast of air at tornado velocities meeting it headlong and casting it back to the floor. But the second leapt into her mystic wards, spewing acid from its maw. Sweat beaded on the witch's forehead as she braced her shields, trying to keep that clinging acid off of her skin. Summoning up a burst of wind once more, she tossed it to the ground and pushed up off the ground, white wings forming once more to hold her off the ground and away from the hounds' snarling leaps. But Keter merely smirked and did the same. Only, instead of white force, his wings were blazing red hellfire, and constantly shifting in shape and size. "Go hunt some prey," he said to his hellhounds, pointing at a couple of fleeing cashiers from the food court. They hungrily bounded off towards them. "No!" cried Equinox, going to fly after them. But a gout of hellfire hit her square in the chest, smashing her down to the floor, helpless as the hellspawned animals leapt at the young workers. Keter still was hardly reacting, just watching the imminent slaughter. One of the dogs leapt, maw opening wide with fangs about to close on a soft, unresisting skull. The arrow exploded into it, blowing a huge chunk of black ichor out of the creature's neck and tearing its lower jaw off. The carcass crashed into the ground, dissolving into black goo, before fading into nothing. Even as it did so, the second hound had turned to look at the fate of its companion, only to receive another arrow straight into its open jaws. The headless body fell still as the tall man dressed all in black glided down to the floor on a cape shaped like hawk's wings. "Not very good demons," growled Arrowhawk, another arrow already nocked and pointed at Keter. Blazing red eyes glared from underneath a hood. And finally, Keter laughed. "Excellent show," he applauded, raising two hand wreathed in hellfire high. "Now, kindly roll over and die while I conduct my business." Arrowhawk let the arrow fly... into a sudden cloud of hellfire appearing in the air. Even as the arrow passed harmlessly through nothingness, he felt a burst of agony in his back as something incredibly strong and on fire slammed into it. But the distraction was enough for Equinox to leap to her feet, summoning a cushion of air to slow the impact and bring Arrowhawk safely down to the floor. She then flicked her wand in a tight circle, and pointed it at Keter's face. A brief, but blindingly bright, flash of flame appeared and then immediately dissipated, leaving him reeling and unable to see. "I see your skills have grown," he snarled, raising both hands up above his head. "But I've got more power than you idiots can comprehend." And he slammed his hands downwards to the ground, hellfire flooding up from nowhere to crash across the entire level. The destruction cleared, leaving the mall an absolute mess. Shops were wrecked, their windows exploded into millions of shards, their merchandise torched. The floor was scorched, riddled with acid burns and reduced to muddy craters at certain points. And Keter was just... gone. Equinox lowered her shields and fell to her knees. "That was close," she said in a strained voice, weary from having had to make so strong a shield in so short a time. She didn't hear Arrowhawk drop from where he'd managed to grapple up to on the ceiling. "Who was that psycho?" he asked in a low voice. "You seemed to know him, from what I heard." Equinox looked up at a harsh, weathered face. "One of the mistakes from my teenage years. And he's apparently got much more dangerous than he used to be. That kind of infernal magic isn't exactly easy to do," she mused. "And he's still convinced I've got enough magical juice to get him what he wants." The man's expression hadn't changed once. "And do you?" he asked. Equinox just shook her head and accepted the hand he'd just outstretched, pulling her up to her feet. "I'm Equinox, by the way," she said, more out of politeness than anything else. "Arrowhawk," came the reply. "Thanks for stopping me hitting the wall there. It might have hurt some." Equinox just looked at him incredulously. Might? Of all the arrogant, pig-headed...! "Yeah," she said slowly. "And thanks for stopping those hellhounds. I... don't know if I could have lived with myself for failing to save those poor people." Arrowhawk just nodded. "You'd have learned to. Anyway, I have to be off." "But aren't you going to help clean up?" protested Equinox, a note of indignation entering her voice. "Not my style, kid." And she just watched as the older man walked off, a barely perceptible limp in his steps.

Time: After November 1st, 2010 "Okay, Dok, let's start at the top. Th' trapesiuz 'rises from..." "From the external occipital protuberance and the medial third of the superior nuchal line of the occipital bone, from the ligamentum nuchae, the spinous process of the seventh cervical, and the spinous processes of all the thoracic vertebrae, and from the corresponding portion of the supraspinal ligament." Dead Head read along on the laminated sheet Archeville had given him, and noted that the Doktor got it all right. He nodded, causing the exposed muscles to contract and expand as they slid over one another. Archeville had filed a request for a medical cadaver a few days ago, so he could practice some of his lesser-used medical skills and not let them get rusty. Dead Head got word of this from one of his contacts at the hospital morgues, and decided to volunteer, showing up at Archeville's doorstep in Hanover. (And if the good Doktor would pay him for his services, so much the better!) Archeville was skeptical at first, but decided to humor the man. He was surprised at how still he could lie while being worked on, no involuntary spasms or tremors, and if not for his incessant talking he would think the body on the operating table was a regular (if very badly bruised) corpse. But there was a complication, aside from the corpse's constant talking testing Archeville's powers of concentration as well as his medical skill: Dead Head's 'undying factor' repaired damage to him as soon as it was inflicted, making practicing most surgical techniques impossible. How could he practice a small bowel resectioning when the abdominal incision closed around him before he could even get his laproscope in? So instead they went with basic anatomical review, peeling back layers of Dead Head to expose and identify assorted structures. "Alright, next set," Dead Head said as he reached back and tore loose the clamps and forceps pinning back his skin. As soon as he did, the flaps closed and sealed shut, leaving him looking completely unharmed. He tossed the instruments, still holding tiny bits of his skin, into a bucket holding other used instruments, and resumed his face-down position on the massage-turned-operating table. "Latissimi dorsi, dextral and sinistral," he instructed. Archeville took up a scalpel and forceps and began cutting and pinning. "How is it you know so much about medical terminology? I mean, the stereotype is that you 'zombies' are, well-" "A bunch'a brainless boneheads?," he interrupted, and chuckled. "Most are, but I ain't 'xactly a run'a tha mill zombie. Had a Voudun loa in me fer 'bout a decade, animatin' me, but he left recently. Did somethin' ta me when he left," he shrugged, making some of the exposed muscles twitch, "but through it all I've kept ma mind. Which I am very grateful for! 'Fore all that, though, I was a college student, biology major. Wanted t'be a Neurologist, but didn't have th' grades." "Really?," Archeville replied, sounding quite surprised. "So your interest in brains existed long before your transmogrification?" "Heh, ya could say that, yeah, 'cept I ain't ever et a brain. Well, not since ma death an' rise. Friend'a mine back home, his granmaw had a hog farm, an' most ev'ry Sunday they'd have a big heap'a scrambled brains 'n' eggs fer breakfast." He grimaced, "never could stand 'em. Naw, my interest were from all the migraine headaches I'd get as a teen. I read up on th' causes, got hooked on the neuroanatomy'a it, tried pursuin' it as a career. Never had th' grades ta do so, though. An' in my current condition, it ain't easy ta continue mah education." "Oh, I am sure you could take distance education courses, many colleges offer several courses online, and-" Dead Head laughed, "that ain't it, Dok, not at all. I cain't go 'cuz I'm broke! I got nothin' but my shovel an' th' clothes on mah back!" "Oh, pshaw. I am sure there are numerous scholarships and grants you could apply for, and-" "Ain't got no permanent mailin' address. I mean, I could have 'em forward it care'a St. Stephen's Church on Lantern Hill, but... I don't wanna be a bother." "Dead Head, I would like to help. I am fairly wealthy, you know, and make numerous donations to-" "Nah, Dok," he said, shaking his head, "ain't no need fer that. I got so much t'do fer the Dead, I'd never have time t'study. I caon't get any'a my credits t'transfer, 'cuz I'm legally dead, they closed or erased all mah records. I'd have ta start over from scratch, an' I'd already been a full-time student fer four an' a half years. Now, quit yer jawin' an' answer me this: th' lateral margin'a the latissimus dorsi is separated below from th' obliquus externus abdominis by a small triangular interval, the..." "the lumbar triangle of Petit," Archeville rattled off, "the base of which is formed by the iliac crest, and its floor by the obliquus internus abdominis. And the latissimus dorsi can be remembered best for insertion as "The Lady Between Two Majors," as it inserts into the intertubercular groove of the humerus and is surrounded by two major muscles, the teres major on one side and the pectoralis major on the other." This went on for some time. Archeville was amazed at his recuperative powers, and mildly impressed by his anatomical knowledge; Dead Head was mildly amused at his fascination. As soon as he had seen the 'zombie,' Archeville had another idea for him, but it was not until halfway through the 'anatomical tour' that be broached the subject. "Dead Head, have you ever allowed your recuperative abilities to be tested?" "They're tested all the time, Dok," he replied while pinning back a section of skin on his left calf, "but, uh, naw, never had a scientific study done. Mostly 'cuz, well, I don't think science can 'splain it." "Oh, nonsense!," Archeville cheerfully retorted. "I am sure I can find out why and how this happened. And along the way, we can discover the extent of your abilities. Would that not be helpful to you? It certainly would to me and my research!" "Well, if it's fer Science, I s'pose I can help..." Soon Archeville had named all the muscles, bones, and organs in Dead Head's body, and he had exposed every inch of himself to the Doktor. Washing up, he lead Dead Head to the reinforced Hazard Hall below his laboratories, where realistic holograms covering overlapping polygonal force fields and tightly-focused pressor beams (as well as an assortment of robots) could create a variety of threats for superhero training... or superhuman power testing. "Alright, Dead Head, just stand right there, please, and I will go to the control room and set things in motion." "Yeah, but what about monitorin' me? Dontcha need, like, monitors attached to me?" "Indeed so!" A small section of the floor irised open, and a slim pedestal rose up, atop which was something looking like a watch. "Her, put this biomonitor on, it will link to the dozens of sensors in in the walls, ceiling and floor to monitor you!" Archeville practically skipped to the control room, giddy to start cataloging another Metahuman's abilities. He set the Hazard Hall to its lowest level to start, all nonlethal attacks. For the most part, Dead Head simply stood there, unaffected by it all; at one point he looked up with his arms crossed over his chest and the most bored expression his dead face could muster. Archeville looked over the biomonitor readouts, which showed absolutely nothing. He stepped up the intensity of the attacks, and these attacks did break skin and fracture bone, but Dead Head bounced back in practically no time. Archeville set about removing the safeties from the Hazard Hall, which caused parts of the control room to unfold as new options were made available. He turned to one console, but did so just as another was descending, and suffered a nasty concussion. Archeville fell to a crumpled heap on the control room floor. A hand reached up to the main console from the floor. It was not human. "Herr Totenkopf... I mean, Mister Dead Head... are you ready for de next level of intensity?" "Sure thing, Dok! I'm startin' ta get bored ta death down here! An' I'm already dead! Yer borin' me back ta death!" "Oh, do not vorry about dat," he muttered, while black-scaled, taloned hands manipulated the controls. First came whirling blades and crushing hammers, but they could not kill the zombie. A shotgun blast to the back of the head healed over with annoying swiftness. "Yea! Now we're cookin', Doc!" "'How about a little feuer, scarecrow?'" It would take days to get the smell of burnt zombie out of the Hazard Hall, but only moments for Dead Head's charred body to regenerate. "This ain't mah first barbecue, y'know!" "Hold on a moment, you are still smoldering..." A saline solution was prayed onto the smoking zombie; the solution was filled with several million particularly nasty nanobots designed to rip and tear their way through skin, organ tissues, and blood vessels, causing massive internal hemorrhages and shock response in the victim. They barely managed to keep Dead Head at the same level of injury, and in time, unable to draw power from the zombie's non-existent bioelectrical field, their tiny batteries gave out and they fell inert. And he didn't even seem to notice. "What's next?" Unintelligible curses issued from Arch-Evil's fanged and spittle-flecked mouth, even as he programmed in a new attack. Behind Dead Head, a machine assembled itself from hard light holograms, but the unconventional undead was too busy focusing on the large hulking robot that was rising from the floor. It charged, swinging a massive hammer-fist at the hero; he simply smiled as he braced himself for impact. The blow connected, a mighty uppercut that sent Dead Head flying into the machine behind him. The western wall of the Hazard Hall became dark red. "Ha! Ein Zombie shambled bis zu hölzernen abklopfhammer und sagt "Ich vergaß, nicht in sie gedrückt zu werden, und jetzt ich bin laubedeckt." Ha! Es ist lustig, weil der Zombie mit laubedeckt erhält! Ahhh hah hah hah hah hah!" The remains stirred, wiggling and writhing back towards each other, slowly un-mulching themselves. Arch-Evil looked on, unbelieving. "Nein! Nein, nein, nein, nein, nein! Computer! Erstellen Sie eine Kopie von den letzten fünf Minuten dieses Lernabschnittes und außer zum Wraith-Antrieb," he commanded while adjusting the controls to the Hall and his Electromagnetic Screwdriver, "wenden Sie dann Filter 23-E an den letzten fünf Minuten der Primäraufnahmenan." Arch-Evil took a few deep breaths, then did what he hated doing: went back to a quiescent state. With the last microsecond of consciousness, he activated the Screwdriver, which set off a memory-altering pulse to cover his actions, making Archeville think they were his own; the doctored audio and video logs would show Archeville running the tests. The gadget reset itself to standby mode as it tumbled from his unconscious hands. Archeville stood, placing a hand over his throbbing head. "Dead Head? Still with us?" "Jes' fine, Dok, the regenerative -- and very naked -- revenant called from the empty Hall, "but... uh... I'm gonna need some new clothes!"

October 15th "You dastardly fiend, what are you going to do to me?" Bombshell delivered the line with all the bored interest of a star practicing lines for a script she had no interest in performing in. It was, perhaps, a little out of place with the scene as she was currently strung up by her wrists and suspended over what she'd mentally termed 'the cauldron of goo'. She glanced down, arching one brow behind her mask and swinging her feet out of the way to watch the slowly bubbling sludge. "I'm not paying extra for a mud bath, you know. They're over rated. I have a much better secrete treatment to keep my skin looking fabulous." She caught some of the chanting to peg it as Greek-ish. Not in the figurative 'sounds Greek to me' but in the actual honest-to-Hercules Greek. "You know, I met Zeus once. Handsy fellow. Well, to be entirely forthright, he wasn't actually the gold-and-shining god at the time. He'd possessed a mortal man to do that thing he does. He does do it well, I have to admit." Bombshell wiggled her wrists a little, looking up at the bindings before her attention went back to the cultists. She smiled at them, a wicked flash of crimson red lips below her black mask. "Lucky for me, my little encounter was post the invention of the pill so I have only fond memories for my reminder. Do you happen to know if he's worked something out with Hestia since then to circumvent that? Dratted fertility gods. Give me a hedonist any day." The tumblers twitched in the manacles but the chanting was getting awfully loud now and Bombshell had some mild concerns that they were going to get to the big finale before she was ready to take her bow. "Dionysus now, I haven't met him but I'm sure I would like to. No maenads, however, I prefer my hedonism without that extra edge of madness. The ratty hair thing, I just can't pull it off." Ca-click. "Shall I give you my card... no?" Bombshell caught the shackles with her fingertips as they opened and swung her legs, enjoying the way that the chanting dissolved into squawks and protests as she tucked and tumbled her way to a tower of boxes. Crouching, she offered them a mocking salute. "Well, I'd love to see what all that was about, but I'm afraid it's just past my bed time. No, don't get up. I can let myself out. Thanks, by the way. You have, oooh, I'd guess two minutes before that little beacon I set off leads all my cape and cowled friends to your little hidey-hole. Ta!" And with a taunting laugh, the ex-thief was gone.

October 31st. Going Solo Stesha woke up that morning missing Derrick fiercely. That was odd in itself, not the missing Derrick part, but the waking up. Missing Derrick had become a near-constant ache inside her, with him so far away, saving people so strange that her skin would burn if she entered their corrosive atmosphere. He'd been able to come home for the occasional weekend, but even the last of those had been in September. She wasn't only lonely, she was worried sick. What could have happened to him to leave him incommunicado and so far beyond the range of help? She'd had to call off the wedding, of course, telling her parents the truth and letting them come up with excuses on her behalf. Now every time she did an altar blanket or handed a bride the bouquet she'd take down the aisle, some part of her just wanted to cry. It wasn't fair. In any case, it was the waking up part that was weird, since it certainly wasn't her usual habit to sleep at night, especially not to fall asleep on the couch in the middle of her favorite TV show and stay there all night! The unusual rest had not done anything good for her back, or for her stomach which decided to throw last night's taco's back in her face (though only metaphorically, thank God.) This bachelorette lifestyle was not good for her! It didn't help that winter was coming, and the lack of sun from that plus all the work she was doing meant she wasn't getting all the solar energy she was used to. But she could at least change that, she decided. Tonight she would turn all her sunlamps on herself and bask in them till she felt totally recharged, not to mention nicely warmed. She was preoccupied enough with that idea that it took her several minutes to register the fact that things were happening outside. The screaming was what she noticed first, and it had her racing to the window. People were running past, pursued by hordes of... were those zombies? Crap! Something had obviously gone very wrong with her tidy world. Fleur tossed on her costume and zipped out to the street, making her way through the crowds that surged and panicked. As she went, she moved people to safety, one at a time or in big groups, anything to get them out of the way of the undead teeth! Her sanctuary would hold them safe long enough for her to at least figure out exactly where the threat was coming from, and where a safe place on this world might be! As she moved through the crowd, she inevitably came to the trailing edge, where most of the action was happening. Here things got trickier. She ran through the crowd as though she were playing a game of freeze tag where she was it. Tag a civilian, he was teleported off to Sanctuary. Tag a zombie, off to the dimensional pocket purgatory. Stesha rapidly lost count of how many of each she tagged, and she took a few tags herself, though nothing that would take her out of the fight. At least the sun was out, so the cuts and scrapes healed themselves quickly once she put down her hood and exposed her hair. If it had been nighttime, she'd have been in big trouble. When things got especially hairy, she whipped out the rest of her arsenal, wrapping and tripping zombies with long vines, throwing them into buildings, even animating the trees themselves to form a protective perimeter around her all-too-squishy human body. It was a shock to suddenly turn around and find that there was no one left to save or fight. The downtown intersection she was in was empty in all directions, not a zombie nor a civilian to be found! She was sure it was pretty tight quarters in her sanctuary, to say nothing of the small dimensional pocket, but it would be okay for the moment. Exhausted and a little woozy, Stesha leaned against a lamppost and let the weak autumn sun beat down on her head. She'd done it by herself, she realized. The Freedom League hadn't been there, Derrick hadn't been there, Taylor or another hero far more powerful than herself hadn't been there. She'd come a long way since she'd first become a hero, and now she really could take on threats on her own. She really hadn't expected that achievement to make her feel so lonely. No time to dwell on that now, though! With one last look around, Stesha teleported away, looking for another trouble spot that needed a hero of its own.

October 31st, 2010, late afternoon. Riverside Park Fire in the Sky “My superiors and I appreciate you all allowing me to accompany you all. It’s a real honor just being in the presence of even one of you. Let alone the entire League!†Victory floats above the ground, his jets mostly aimed towards the ground, with just a couple on the back of his shoulders slowly moving him forward, a smile on his face. Alongside him in the sky, a familiar figure, of similar colors to Victory, smiles and shakes his head. “Now, no need to be so humble. We’re willing to accept the extra hand. But next time, make sure your superiors let us know earlier.†A few hours before, Freedom Hall: “So wait…you’re telling me Director Powers sent you here…on a hunch?†Bowman was adjusting the fletching on his arrows, looking up to give their visitor a doubtful look. “Well, I don’t totally understand it, myself. But those are my orders. With all the craziness that’s been going on this month, the higher-ups at AEGIS thought it was important to pool our resources, just in case. Something big’s going down, and we just want to be sure that all bases are covered.†Victory, for his part, was doing his best to sound professional, but it was pretty tough to maintain that front when he’s in the presence of the Freedom League, of all people! …Although their skepticism is making it much easier to keep calm. As he awaits their response, they exchange looks among each other, as if silently asking each other what they think. But before they all seem to come to a consensus, Daedalus steps forward, with a smile on his face. “Well, I for one think we could use the extra hand, all things considered. Unless anyone else has a good reason not to accept?†None of them seem to have any direct objection, so it seems they’re agreed…. Present, The Freedom League and their guest begin to slow their collective movement as they begin to approach the Centurion’s Memorial. An odd place to be led when there are other places already in trouble, but they were assured that they were needed here. Victory, not having any personal experience with any of them, finds it even harder to believe, and he stays on guard as they begin to fly down to the ground. They had been following a lead that Daedalus has gotten. Something about the source of all the strange supernatural goings-on this month. According to his information, there had been a weakening in the barrier between the world of the physical and mystical. And the source of that weakening was where they were headed. But, as they began to land, Victory noticed something odd. With all his various methods of sight and detection, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary, energy-wise. He remained cautious, not sure what was going to happen here. “Alright, Daedalus,†Captain Thunder asks, “where’s this anomaly you were speaking of?†The rest of the members of the League seem to be wondering that as well, as none of them seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. “We’ll be able to see it in just a moment…I have to prepare a few things first…†As he speaks, Daedalus begins to walk over to the foot of the statue itself. Victory, for his part, stays quiet, but that weird feeling just won’t be shaken. Keeping all his various sight methods cycling, he notices something…a bit odd. Looking over to Daedalus, his infravision seems to be picking up an odd build-up of heat growing from inside. Much higher than any human should without any corresponding power. Keeping his eye on him, Daedalus continues. “There we go…this should do it…†As he speaks, Daedalus looks to be messing with a device in his hands, with his back turned to the League. With a grin on his face, he turns to face them, his eyes having suddenly switched to a glowing red. His eyes catching on to it, Victory looks again, to see the heat having built inside to incredible levels! Now he knows why he had such a bad feeling: “EVERYONE DOWN!†Turning to Johnny Rocket, he makes a quick decision. “JOHNNY! FOLLOW MY LEAD!†Not quite sure what he means, but ready for action all the same, Johnny watches as Victory blasts forth, spinning in circles, just in time to see Daedalus explode! And a hell of an explosion at that, as the entire sky seems to light up. But Johnny thinks fast, and knew what Victory meant, as he joins Victory in spinning around the detonating figure. As Johnny goes around the base, Victory circles up and up, the two of them creating a powerful vacuum, funneling the explosion up into the air, trapping it and directing it away from the League and the Centurion’s statue. Heading higher and higher, Victory’s cyclone brings the swirling flame far, far above the clouds, his speed pushing well over even his normal limits. As he moves, the flames smash against him now and then, causing some nasty damage against his armor, but he keeps on, until he finally funnels it all up out of the atmosphere. One it was gone, he and Johnny slow to a stop. Victory, worn from both the speed and the constant assault the explosion hit him with, floats in the air for a moment, panting and charred, but with a smile on his face. And then he begins to fall… Tumbling back down to Earth, it seems like it will be quite an impact, surely enough to do even him in. But he’s okay with it. Give his life to save Earth’s greatest heroes? Good trade… As the darkness over his eyes lifts, Victory finds himself back at a familiar lab, as pain shoots through him. Did I survive, he wonders. As his eyes open, he looks about, seeing the people who work on him all smiling, relieved to see him come to. At his side, one of the technicians carefully lays a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, V! Welcome back. We were worried about ya. You really pushed that body of yours there.†Victory smiles, shrugging lightly. “Well, I knew you guys built me up strong enough to handle it. Was everyone else okay?†“Yup! And they said to feel free to ask them for help any time. They said it’s the least they could do.†Victory laughs, and lays back down. “Thank God. Although….†If that Daedalus was just a bomb…where was the real one…?

10pm, Friday 15th October Geckoman sauntered casually out of the alleyway, leaving a couple of hapless muggers tied up with a tracer beacon for Freedom's Finest to come collect them. "All in all, a good night's work," he said to the air, as he reached into his pocket for a Twinkie. Taking a deep bite out of it, he suddenly found himself pinned to the wall by a dark-haired woman with pale skin and red eyes. Oh, and the fangs. "How about I take a bite out of you?" Her breath smelt like the grave, and of blood and gore. But Geckoman remained unabashed. "My centre's only slightly creamy, I should warn you," he said, looking disappointedly at his dropped snack. "A little stale, I think." The woman effortlessly hefted him over her head and threw him out into the street. He rolled up into a crouch, backflipping over the vampire as she surged at him for another strike. "Dear Lord, woman, can't you find a 7-11?" Parrying a lightning fast blow, he followed up with a swift gut punch. Vampire Lady didn't even flinch, shrugging off the blow as if it was nothing. "I hunger. Can't you smell the death in the air? It makes me HUNGRY." Her jaws lunged at Geckoman's throat, only deflected by a quick spinning kick. It threw the woman off-balance and onto her back. "Well, I was hungry!" shouted Geckoman, sounding like he was genuinely angry. "My twinkie!" He rushed in again, the two combatants moving ridiculously fast, striking and parrying so fast the air hissed around them. And, in a flash, Geckoman was behind her, leaping through the window of a jeweler's. He ducked and dived through the glass display cases of the dark shop, inspecting the rings and watches and bracelets as he did. "Oooh, how many carats? C'mon, lady, let me buy you a little something." With a feral snarl, she grabbed him by the neck just as he'd palmed an object from one of the smashed cases. Right, I hope I can identify precious metals on sight. He held his hand out, palm up, a beautiful silver ring held in it. "Crazy vampire lady, will you marry me?" Her grip loosened in shock, and she just stared at the green-clad teenager. "It's your soulless red eyes, they just make me wanna spend the rest of my unlife with you." To her credit, Vampire Lady rallied admirably, raising her other hand to punch Geckoman in the face. But he was faster, slipping the ring on. "Yes, Geckoman, I will marry me!" And, with a quick one-two, the silver ring gouged a huge dent across the vampire's face. He followed up swiftly, smashing her head through one of the few undamaged glass displays, before grabbing a chair and snapping its leg off. "STELLLLLAAAAAAAAAAA!" he cried, thrusting the stake into the vampire's heart, leaving her hanging lifeless and unmoving with her head unceremoniously trapped inside a jeweler's cabinet. At which point he leaned up against the cabinet, knowing the silent alarm would soon have the police and the owner running. At which point he'd need to explain away the damage to the shop, and to a very expensive silver engagement ring. "Ho-hum," murmured the Geckoman as he took up his guard duty, pulling out another Twinkie and biting into it. Then he paused and sniffed the air. For a second, if only for that amount of time, he thought he'd smelt death. And he got a bad feeling about the future.

8pm, Sunday, 31st October, 2010 Hallowe'en. Samhain. All Hallow's Eve. A night of ghosts, ghouls and spectres. And also the night that Equinox stood in the middle of her street, facing down the swarm of zombies coming towards her. Some blurred to and fro in zig-zagging paths, weaving between their slower comrades. Some punched down on car bonnets, sending them flipping up and over their heads. And some, the ones nearest the powerful witch... some were burned to ashes. Blazing with white light, she refused to give an inch. As soon as a zombie got near enough to claw at her, she casually parried the gesture with a force field of solid white light, and spun her wand around to hurl it flying away with a burst of wind stronger than a hurricane. All the while, between cutting through swathes of zombies and fending off their attacks, she burnt parts of a pentagram into the ground around her. The acrid smell of molten concrete surrounded her as it slowly took shape. Then, in one fluid gesture, Equinox finished the circle, causing it to form into a glowing nimbus of white light. Ravening undead claws and fangs broke and were turned away from it, as she began invoking to her Lord and Lady, wand raised high. "Spirit and soul, flesh and bone, Against this horde, I stand alone, Beloved Goddess, aid my toil, Blessed God, empower my hand, Return these creatures to the soil, And bring peace to this land!" In that moment, waves of blindingly white force exploded forth from the circle, ripping and tearing at the mystic energy empowering these beasts. Lifeless corpses crumbled and fell to the floor, some returning to grave dust in the process. Equinox began laughing as the power flowed through her, cutting them down en masse. Then she felt the powerful will hit her like a freight train. While the nearest zombies had all fallen, some of those further away hadn't fallen, and were coming at her with renewed vigour. Hades. A voiceless cry of defiance raised itself from her lungs as the dark god's will drove her to her knees. They were coming at her, her spell was failing, and there was nothing she could do but fall to her knees, the mental assault blurring her vision with white spots and spirals. The barriers were down, and Hades' power was no longer so restricted. Hand tearing at her pentacle, Siobhan managed to tug it off, snapping the chain. It works both ways. She stood up, raising her pentacle high. Spirit, fire, water, earth, air; one point for the five fundamental powers of the universe. "I fear not thy power, thou should'st fear mine, I fear not thy spells, or your undead kine, My spell will work, Now, go away, zombies, GO!" With one phenomenal effort of will, Equinox's blinding light went out, the charms in her pentagram dissipating, her own wards gone with them, every ounce of magic power and will she possessed, hurled at the stonewall the deity had placed upon her spell. And shattered a hole clean through it, scouring every zombie she could sense for a good distance around her. Siobhan fell down once more in her pentagram, breathing hard. I won. But she forced herself to get up again, casting her great white wings around her once more. And, flying off towards the city center, she knew she had to finish this, and help find the culprits.

October 31st, 2001 (Sunday) As the black spots of the teleport faded, Trevor found himself in a small oasis among the chaos the dead rising vengefully against the living. The stink of death was heavy in the air even through the filter built into his featureless black mask, mixed with the acrid scent of an exploding gas main and the palpable stench of fear. For a moment, the black clad figure hesitated, distracted by a turmoil of emotions that had no place on the battlefield. Self doubt and bitter reproach whispered in his ears, made the escrima sticks feel heavy in his hands. The one of the shambling corpses turned its milky white eye to look at him, and the world through his lenses crystallised into a darker shade of red. His body sprang into action, guided by muscle memory and powered by a cold, articulate rage as he leapt through flame and ash a bring a matte black stick crashing across a brittle skull with devastating effect. A treaded boot forced a second zombie back for the instant it took the dual weapons to come down again with a crack. A handful of small spheres whipped out in a broad arc, igniting with explosive force as they connected with the undead mob as its members toppled in sickening, flaming heaps. Midnight was only peripherally aware of his teammates’ assaults nearby, his attention focused with pinpoint fervour on the next target, when a plaintive cry reached his ears. On the other side of the thickest mass of monsters, a small child huddled against a brick wall, cut off from the rest of the fleeing civilians, eyes wide with terror. The sound drew the zombie’s attention as well, and they began to advance on easy prey. A pressure stud released a three inch long blade from the tip of one escrima stick even as Midnight’s arm whipped forward, sending the spear hurtling through the air to skewer the back of a desiccated, exposed brain. Sprinting forward, he cleared a path with his remaining stick, abandoning it as it stuck in the tar-like visage of a moaning horror. Another handful of incendiary pellets cleared another foot of distance, even as a fallen but still moving creature ripped at the bottom of his jacket with boney digits. Ignoring it, Midnight pressed on through the throng, increasingly aware of his deadly race with each step. Obsidian and blood red eyes narrowed as a flick of his wrists extended short, steel points from the fingers of his gloves. Grasping hands pulled at his side, and he responded by raking talons through a rotting throat, ripping off a chunk of flesh before a second brutal strike with the butt of his other palm knocked the rest of the zombie’s head clean off its shoulders. In the visceral melee, his tattered jacket was pulled open, ragged edges flaring of behind him as he moved until he stood towering above the cowering child, a dark, indistinct figure of shadow. It took the space of several heavy breaths for Midnight to realise that the zombies in the immediate are had been irradiated, as his friends covered his flank and blind spots. Even so, the small boy recoiled from the inky wraith looming over him, terrified. Stepping back, Midnight turned away, pausing as he did. He considered telling the child not to be afraid, as a nearly hysterical woman ran through the street to retrieve her son, but decided to remain silent, stalking back toward his teammates. After all, it was only natural. Deep down, everyone was afraid of the dark.

October 10th (Sunday), 6:49pm Visiting hours ended at five, but the people at the hospital were always really nice about letting her stay a little later. Her chair faced the bed as she spoke softly to the sleeping boy, "You know they are having a in a few weeks, the little ones are very excited about it. I passed by and they have decorated the floor that they stay on. Apparently they are going to go around to gather sweets from all the rooms and Ms. Cynthia suggested I bring some bags to share with them." Watching his face, she looked for a response or something that seemed to show that he was listening, but there was nothing. There was no moment or sound that was his own. His breathing was light, and toned out by the beeping of the machine they had put onto his heart. His body didn't move, so the sheets around his bed were always flat and wrinkle free. But still he was still here because she was still here. She knew she was still here because her shadow loomed over his bed and became longer as the sun was setting. It was time for her to leave. Outside of the room seemed a bit of an inverse of what she had seemed. Even in a place for the sick, everyone seemed so full of life and because of the holiday they seemed to be in constant movement. Several nurses were putting up little decorations for each room, while doctors passed them with the look that they had something important to be doing. There was nobody around that was not in white, and on this hall there was no one who would walk around in those paper dresses. This was the floor where they kept people like Dimitrius, people who though they looked alive so void of any real life, and when she went down the stairs she would pass the place where there were people with no life. The idea of passing the morgue almost always made Etain's skin crawl just a little, but it was preferable to the alternative. She could not understand how humans could so easily ride in those little metal boxes. It was not a long walk, three floors perhaps of her walking directly in the middle of the stairs away from the hand rails. Getting to the bottom she used her umbrella to push the safety bar and walk quietly down the hallway to the hospitals lobby. This time, she was not alone in her walk, as she moved down she had to push herself against the wall as one of those metal beds was walked along with those plastic bags that they sometimes stored the life impaired. It was something she had seen before, though she almost always averted her eyes to the scene as they moved and she quickened her pace down the hallway. However, there was something strange. As she moved down the hallway even as they past she saw a slight trail that began just a few feet in front of her and passed, though faint at first, it was there a sort of magic she could not identify at first. It was this that made her turn full circle to see the people disappearing with the body into the morgue and the trail following it. Her eyes wide and her objective forgotten she sprinted down the hall and to the door. Catching the door before it closed she gave it a shove before screaming, "Move away, move away now!" They stared at her before a couple one of them moved towards her trying to ask what was wrong, the other however continued to unzip the bag, "No, wait, it is evil, move away." She ran past slipping from the other guys grip and shoving the worker out of the way as a hand moved out of the bag and grabbed onto her. She nearly yelped as she glanced at her, though the image of the moving copse might of scared her the aura was what did the work. She very nearly felt like she was going to be sick as she looked at the twisting horrid magic that wafted off of it as it tried to pull itself closer to her. She was almost entranced by the horror that she did not notice it pulling her hand closer to it. However when she saw it open it's mouth she came back to reality and lifted her umbrella with her other hand. Banging down hard onto it's face she hit the vile thing so it would let go, so that she could look away so that she would never have to look at it again. There was no blood splatter at the plastic umbrella started to crack from the impact and the creature kept pulling her in. The umbrella split on the still moving zombie and feeling it go limp she threw it away before the zombie reached out and grabbed her other hand. Feeling the additional cold grip she reeled and pulled backwards and took the zombie off the cart and onto the floor bring her with it. She nearly screamed again as it tried to grab onto her dress. Her free hand went into her purse and searched, searched for something. Grabbing something long and thin she pulled from her purse one of the needles Ms. Cynthia had bought her that she was supposed to use with yarn. She pulled it out and held it at it's end. The zombie was trying to pull itself out using her for leverage and as it grabbed onto the front of her dress she screamed as she plowed the pointed end of the plastic needle into it's eye. It was only then that the creature finally let go of her and that the hated magic started to fade. The watching hospital workers stared at her as she stood up and moved as far away as she could from the corpse leaning against the cool metal containers even as they stung because they could not scare her more then that horrid creature, "What the hell was that?" She looked over at him her voice strangled, "Evil"

October 31st (Sunday) The Way It's Supposed To Be Think think think think. An explosion erupted from Edge's feet as the gas main underneath the street burst, waves of fire and flame bursting forth and incinerating the zombies around the Claremont trio in smoke and ash. Can't keep breaking the street forever, Mark thought a little desperately. I guess I can crush them one at a time if necessary. They'd teleported into the Fens, right in front of a heavily barricaded high school full of civilian refugees. Or even better, the bus! Flashes of black light came from Mark's hands, reaching out and grabbing the school bus, dropping it into the middle of the crowd of zombies and bouncing it back and forth like a bus. As the undead hordes growled and regrouped, a thought came to Mark. This isn't right. Wander was a wrecking machine with her blade, dispatching zombies almost faster than Mark could see, and just at the edge of his vision Midnight was doing something he couldn't quite follow with razor-edged bombs that tore through zombies like lightning strikes. The world shouldn't be like this. It was not a helpful thought under the circumstances, but as another zombie dragon (and where on Earth were THEY coming from?) swept in from above, it came to Mark again. Look at this! There are zombies everywhere, Wander is doing her scary killing machine thing, Midnight is...well, he's on edge about something besides the zombies, anyway! The light pole overhead came tumbling down on the front line of the horde, most of them exploding on contact with the power of electricity. (Mark hadn't done well in shop class.) My friends are upset, there's a flesh-eating horde on the loose...my dad is gone, my mom is upset all the time...the world isn't supposed to be like this! Unbidden, Mark thought about that false reflection of Freedom City his father had made. He reached back and hurled Erin at the zombie dragon overhead, the teen warrior appearing in a flash of black bubbles as she severed the great beast's head with a single swing of the blade he'd made for her. I bet this never happened there. I mean, people were really HAPPY! Was it so wrong if freedom was curtailed a little? There was a crash from beneath his feet, and the teen heroes gathered together again even as something began punching through the streets. Oh wow, an old-time subway car...full of zombie hobos. Aw, man! I'm almost sure this didn't happen there. Why should people have to trade THIS for getting freedom?As zombies exploded and split and squealed, Mark realized the mistake he'd been making. The same mistake Dad made too. You can't build a better world by turning back the clock to a time that's gone, even if you do think it was better. If you want to build a better world, you've got to go out and make it yourself. One step at a time. He blasted a wall of zombies, and they all had a moment's pause as silence fell and they realized this neighborhood was cleared out. The world shouldn't be like this. Monsters shouldn't be trying to scare and hurt people, thought Mark with a little nod. But you don't stop the bad guys by taking freedom away from everyone else. You stop the bad guys by...stopping the bad guys. You build a better world yourself, not by taking away the world people already have. And how do you do that? He looked at Erin, covered in zombie guts, and Trevor, catching his breath. You do it with your friends at your side, fighting for what's right. They'd had some differences between each other lately, but that was all forgotten in the heat of the moment. And we'll stop this, repair the city and help all the hurt people, fix things with my mom, and everything will be great! He realized Erin and Trevor were staring at him expectantly. "Oh, right. Yeah, we've still got twelve other neighborhoods to hit. Sorry, forgot. We're going now!" And in a flash of black, they were on the move again, and back into the fray. Maybe this world wasn't so bad after all.

Saturday, October 30th 2010, 11:04 PM. Downtown, The Fens. With all the grace of an inebriated gazelle, Momentum bounced from rooftop to rooftop, nearly falling off the shabbier shingles in the Fens once or twice as he gazed down to street level from his lofty perch, street lamps the only indication of illumination below as he continued to feign his super-spy routine. It all started with the pre-Halloween party he had no business attending - but did so out of peer pressure anyway - when the young teen hero began hearing rumors of a ‘party after the party’ by some of the FDR High students in attendance. Chief amongst these impromptu informants from the party that Momentum had been interested in following was one of his own classmates by the name of Don Carson. It wouldn’t have even struck him as being all that weird were it not for the increase in Zombie Powder drug-related activity in the Midtown district by some gang calling themselves ‘The Red Devils,’ and Don – much to Ashley’s surprise – had suddenly begun sporting their colors, a clear sign of the influence from the Red Devils. After a bit of nosing around at the party proper, Noah discovered his hunch was right on the money with his assumption, solidifying the link between the party and increase in drugs at FDR High. It had to be some sort of recruitment drive… if not something more sinister! And so here he was, acting like an imitation ninja, spying on his classmates from on-high in an attempt to locate and crash the drug-fueled extravaganza. With each breath of the chilly autumn air Noah took, the small gaggle of party-goers continued on, oblivious to his presence. It wasn’t long until they reached their intended location; a dilapidated apartment complex devoid of working street lights in the heart of the Fens. The walls were heavily adorned with the tags of the Red Devils, and two large, burly Latino men in gang-affiliated bandanas stood guard by the front door of one of the ground floor apartments. Even from so far away, Momentum’s ears rang as the music from inside the two-story projects blared out, the bass no doubt shaking the solemn-looking foundation. Like some sort of paragonesque peeping tom, Noah watched as Don and the two rather intimidating men exchanged friendly greetings just before he and his small entourage entered the building, the brief opening of the door enough to send even louder resonations of obnoxiously loud music into the crisp October air. It looked like this was the right place. â€Not like I was having fun or anything...†Momentum noted sarcastically unto himself, taking a deep breath before descending to street level and beginning his stride towards the brutish gentlemen and their obvious hive of Zombie Powder-riddled shenanigans. The two men scoffed and laughed, unimpressed by the scrawny kid in the hoodie and goofy goggles sauntering their way. They wouldn’t be laughing much longer though. “What ‘chu ‘sposed to be?†the larger of the two men chided, pistols now in plain sight tucked in the front of their waists as Momentum grew closer. The pair of armed thugs seemed unusually calm – almost lucid – in their mannerisms as they halted the boy’s admittance into the loud auditorium beyond the brick apartment complex’s simple hollow-core door. “Maybe you’re here for the ‘party’? Wanna be part of los Diablos Rojos, holmes?†Momentum needed to be quick, the men armed to the teeth with handguns and sporting an intoxicated look in their eyes that made them seem even more intimidating beyond their various Voodoo trinkets gleaming in the florescent light. “Nuh uh.†the spunky little kineticist retorted somberly even as his protective bearer shimmered briefly into existence around his fragile little body, fist aglow with rippling red energy in preparation for the slugfest about to commence, a sense of fear lodged in his voice. This could be his only chance to catch the small apartment complex filled with ZP-dealers with their pants down, and an ample opportunity to reduce the Red Devils’ surplus in the process. There was no room for error. He wouldn’t blow it. He couldn’t blow it, or it might end up too late for some of the party-goers. “I’m here to crash it!â€

Through A Glass The sky was gray with the dust and smoke that came with a collapsed building, billows of it that turned everything it touched a waxy, corpselike white itself. The invasion was over, but at the moment it almost seemed like the least of their troubles. This time, unlike in the invasion of hell, the damage remained behind after the invasion was over. And there were a lot of people who needed help. Right now, many of them were waiting outside of a hastily erected barricade, watching her silently and begging them with their eyes to make things better. Erin did the best she could to walk lightly in the rubble that had once been a five story apartment building. Psyche, working remotely from halfway across the city, had assured her there were people alive in here, people who needed help. There were dogs and equipment, not to mention other heroes on the way, but it might be too late on a day like this with so many disasters. One superhero at the right time could make all the difference when lives were on the line. She reminded herself of that even as her stomach churned and twisted, the acrid smell in the air triggering sense memories she couldn't afford to go back to right now. The job was the thing now, and saving lives, and not letting all her power be for nothing this time. “Hello?†she called, straining her ears for any noises. Her ears were her best sense, but she was no Psyche and no search dog. It was almost worse to walk through this carnage and know that there were living people somewhere nearby, that she could help them but only if she didn't screw up. She was listening so hard that at first she thought the noise she actually heard was a figment of her imagination, it was so faint. But it was real, a scratching from halfway across the collapse site, as of someone trying to move the debris. She resisted the urge to leap, unsure of what a landing would do, and instead raced as quickly and lightly as she could to the source of the sound. “Can you hear me?†she called. There was a murmur from the families watching beyond the barricades at her sudden movement, but they quieted quickly, knowing that their silence was her success. “Here!†came a voice from down in the piles of rubble. “We're down here, help us!†Young, Erin thought, sounded like a kid. God... “It's all right!†she called. “I'm Wander, I'm from Young Freedom! I'm going to help you! Just hold on and be brave, okay?†Working quickly and carefully, she sorted out the massive pieces of fallen building, pushing them aside carefully so as to try and disrupt the pile as little as possible. She'd had extensive training in disaster relief as well as combat; she knew what a shifting field of debris could do to a trapped victim. It was an endless five minutes before she opened enough of a clearing to see through to the victims. Two boys, she realized, one maybe twelve or thirteen, the other younger. It looked like they'd gotten lucky, wedging themselves into a closet that had collapsed into a protective triangle over their heads. “We're okay,†the older boy said, his arms wrapped around what had to be his younger sibling. “Kind of... my leg hurts,†he admitted. “My mom... my mom was over in the kitchen, just next to us,†he told Erin urgently. “We heard her yell out when everything was falling. Is she okay? Did she get out?†From where she was, Erin could only see a little bit of the rest of what had once been a decent apartment. She shifted just a little bit to get a better idea of what was around, catching a glimpse of a metal sink and pipes that said kitchen. “Just a second...†Sliding her way across patches of crumbled drywall, she made her way over there and shone her flashlight into a gap between joists. Her light picked up the blood first, and then the casualty. Adult female DOA, Erin told herself, making herself be clinical about it. She had work to do. Returning to the boys, she blanked her face to impassive concentration. “I'm going to get you out of there,†she promised again. “You're going to have to be very brave.†It was only much later, long after the boys were reunited with their father and that building and many others like it were cleared that she allowed herself to acknowledge how long they were going to have to be brave for.

At the Fassbinder pharmaceutical research facitility, the army was preparing to dissiminate some blood testing kits. The latest weapon to stop the Grue invasion, they quickly analysed DNA and could (usually) weed out the Grue Drones, potentially even the more skilled alien metamorphs. Efforts to fight back had been hampered by the infilitration by the Grue, disrupting command structures, co-ordination and organisation. When the armed forces and paramilitary agencies didn't know if they where talking to a trusted ally, or alien spy, things were slow at best, and dangerous at worst. The kits were not 100% reliable, nor were they fast. But they were better than nothing. Three soldiers were lifting the crates onto a forklift truck. They were being supervised by a stiff looking seargant. The soliders bantered whilst they shifted the crates "Man, I hope we can fight these martians off. ", "I hope the Inceptors can pull us out of the fire this time!", "I come across one of 'dem Grue, I'm gonna Kick 'der ass!" The seargant smiled "Soldiers! I am afraid we have no chance against the alien invaders. " His smiled broadened as he brought his pistol to bear on them. "No chance at all. They are superior to to you pathetic earthlings in every way. This planet..." his smiled changed along with his face into that of a Grue... "IS OURS!" BAM BAM BAM! rang the shots, with horrible and deadly accuracy. And the war claimed three more brave lives. Into the facility strode three identical soldiers. The Grue seargent, a Metamorph from the looks of things, started ordering the soldiers, who were presumably drones, to destroy the crates. They set to the task, starting to set incendiary devices throughout the storeroom. The Seargent took one of the kits and sampled his own blood. The readings and data started to appear on the small LED screen. He took out his walkie talkie, and removed the front cover. It was Grue technology, and it appeared to interface with the testing kit. Valuable data streamed to and from the devices. It appeared the Grue wanted to know exactly what they were up against; and destroy it anyway, of course. One of the Soldiers appeared by the Seargant's side. "The devices are all set, commander. " He intoned. "Is the blood testing kit functional? do we proceed with detonation?" The Seargant cocked an eyebrow at the drone, unusually inquisitive, he throught, but probably just doing its job. "Yes we have the data. Proceed with detonation. I shall complete analaysis. " The drone walked away as the Seargant proceeded to use the Grue device to work through the realms of data his own blood and the kit had provided. With this, they could develop a biological counter measure. Of course, the data would be dangerous if it ever got into the hands of the humans. Two muffled cries wafted from behind a crate. Drawing his pistol, the Grue metamorph walked around to see two of the soldiers unconscious, and a Grue drone, in full alien form, standing over them. "One of the soldiers was human! attacked us!" the third Grue intoned. "Fool!" shouted the Metamorph, bending over to examine the soldiers. What had happened, how had a human infilitrated the Grue? Impossible! His thoughts came to a sudden end as a fist crashed into the back of his skull. Above him, the Grue form changed, with oily black secretions trickling down its body, into that of Felix F Fassbinder, the owner of Fassbinder pharmaceuticals. Who also happened to be the shapechanging superhero, Slick. He took the Grue device and the linked blood testing kit from the slack hands of the seargent. "Neat trick, shapeshifting. You know, I think I'll try it myself!" He couldn't resist a broad smile. "You get all sorts of useful information doing it, you know. Really disrupts the enemies plans. " He turned over the device, ripe with data, in his hands. Impossibly, his smile got even broader.

A Reverie on Identity, as Interrupted by Tentacle Monsters 11 AM, Day of the Invasion The Boardwalk was starting to pick up a crowd. It was a fairly cool May, but people still wanted to come down to see the festivities, even if they weren’t willing to plunge into the Atlantic Ocean just yet. Joe walked the streets in his usual gear; he was probably drawing some attention, but he didn’t seem to care. He was mostly lost in thought. When he was younger, he’d come to the Boardwalk regularly – with family, with friends, with girlfriends. He had good memories of the place, and maybe it’d give him a chance to get his head together. It had been three weeks since the incident at the foundry. It had been a week since he lifted his couch up over his head with one hand. And last night, his dad had told him all about his grandpa. That was a hell of a thing to find out – that you were the grandson of a superhero. And the powers were obviously coming in… toughness, if the spill-over was any indicator, super-strength… If the medical records on Legionnaire indicated anything, his grandpa had been able to “cross whole battlefields with one bound†and “run to catch up with a transport going at top speed†by the time he’d died, so he’d probably come into that in time. He pretty much knew what he was going to do now. It wasn’t like you had something like this land on you, then went back to sitting on the sidelines. The question was, could he do it? Pushing the boneheads out of shows was one thing – being a hero meant taking on crooks, mobsters, gangsters, madmen, gods, demons, aliens, monsters, and whatever crackpot had more power than he deserved and a control fetish. Could he do that? More importantly, could he do that and live? His grandfather had been tough, but he wasn’t invincible – Superior proved that. Did he really even know what he was doing? Joe was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of honking. One horn joined another, and another; the familiar rapport of Jersey driving told him something was wrong. He broke away from the Boardwalk and made his way to the main street, where he quickly saw what was wrong. Twenty people were standing in the middle of the road, in four-by-five formation. The crowd was a mix of ages, ethnicities, and genders. They were also standing stock still before a crowd of honking cars. Two traffic cops had already made their way into the middle of the road to try and get the crowd to disperse, but they weren’t having much luck. “Come on, miss, you’re holding up traffic,†the traffic cop said to one of the still women. She didn’t seem to register, so he pulled out the cuffs and grabbed her by the arm. “Miss, you leave me no choice--†The woman reached out, lifted the traffic cop off his feet – one-handed – and threw him through a storefront window well across the street from her. That shut the horns up. Around Joe, people were already starting to run – they didn’t really make ‘em stupid in Freedom. “This is the Three-Lobed Eye of the Grue Empire.†The voice came from one and all of them – they spoke in perfect unison, and their words rung out above the rising chaos. “Your world has been analyzed, and found suitable. Colonization shall begin shortly, but there is no need for distress. Go peacefully, and all will be well.†That was when someone threw a brick at one of the people. It struck them right in the forehead, leaving a solid dent that seemed to knit back together like Silly Putty. Joe grimaced; they also made ‘em brave in Freedom. Sometimes too much for their own good. “The Meta-Mind has accepted this as a sign of defiance,†the chorus said. “Engaging in suppression mode.†Before Joe’s eyes, the people seemed to lengthen, stretching like taffy and growing out of their clothes. They streamed together in the middle like steel being poured from many vats, and then they swelled. The blob grew to the size of a small brownstone, then erupted into a mass of tendrils. A mouth like a cave emerged from the “front†of the mass and let out a terrible roar. That was when the panic really set in. The people around him began running through the streets, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the giant Grue bioweapon. Joe took one look at the rampaging beast, and did the stupidest thing he could think of. He ran forward. It was only when he got up close that he realized just what he was dealing with. The thing towered over him, and was flailing its tentacles wildly, turning over cars and tearing down buildings. Fortunately, it seemed mostly focused on civic destruction. That’d give him an avenue to get in. Before he could move, however, one of the tentacles came thrashing down at him. He managed to slip to the side as the thing slammed down and cracked the asphalt. Joe took advantage of the moment and grabbed the tentacle. It felt like microwaved Play-Doh, and slithered like a snake. The beast roared, and turned to face him. Yeah, that’s not good. The tentacle rose into the air, and took Joe along with it. Despite his strength, it appeared he didn’t exactly have the anchoring necessary to wrestle this thing to the ground. He’d just have to try something else. Once he figured out what the beast was doing… The beast, meanwhile, decided it had better things to do than fight the puny human. It threw him at the row of buildings right across the way. Joe came to rest after tasting brick, lying on an alcove. He looked to the bioweapon… and then to the ocean. It wasn’t that far at all. He couldn’t pick the thing up by a tentacle, but that didn’t get rid of other options. He rolled down the street and started running as fast as he could. The tentacles came down around him, but he managed to dodge them – it was like this thing was still getting its land legs. When he got close enough to the flashy mess, he slipped his hands right under it. It took some effort, but the giant bioweapon slowly lifted up from the street. Joe could feel it convulsing in his hands, like it was trying to find some way to deal with the human underneath it. He took advantage of the few seconds he had before this thing turned into the blob, and lobbed it. It didn’t fly far; instead, it seemed to topple over onto the sidewalk. But that was enough; the thing began shifting, like it was trying to regain its balance. While it struggled, Joe rushed forward again and punched it right in the underside. The thing quavered like Jello, and actually seemed to split a little. It began knitting itself back together, but Joe took the opportunity and tossed it on its side again. He repeated the process, making his way to the ocean. He didn’t know if this would work, but if it did… He felt the water creep over his boots and soak the cuffs of his jeans, even as he pushed the thing further. It struggled all the way, trying to grab him and throw him back onto the land, but he didn’t give it a chance. Once Joe felt the sands shifting under his feet, he leapt back to shore. The beast tried to come after him… and struggled to move, dropping further into the sands. Joe had spent his childhood on these beaches. He and all the other kids who played in the surf knew the sand got soft about twenty-five feet in, and after that was a bit of a drop-off. Easy enough for a kid to swim out and up from… but given the size and composition of the thing, it had to be a lot heavier than your typical kid. And sure enough, it was trying to gain purchase in the water and the shifting sands, and failing. He heard a rush of air, like a kite unfurling. Overhead, he could see The Scarab and Fulcrum, looking down at the thing struggling in the surf. With them would come the press… and he realized he had no mask. He quickly ran back to the street and disappeared into a back alley. He’d make his way back home, but mainly to get changed. Then he needed to get a mask. Joe had made up his mind. He knew what he was going to do next.

Supercape - Gruevasion Supercape had barely arrived in America when the Grue invaded. He had certainly not started being a superhero. True, he had started working on his idea of an unstable quantum lattice of molecules that he could use as a costume - and it was painstaking but hopefully worthwhile work - but actual superheroics was something that was a vague notion at best. When streams of white hot plasma started pelting down from the sky, the alien invaders walked the streets, and the superheroes of Freedom City started fightong back, Professor Quentin Quill had just started work at Freedom University. It was, predictably, pandemonium. Admist all the chaos, some of the scientists had been "asked" to try and analyse the data streaming in from the military and various satellites about the Grue arsenal in space. Quentin had volunteered, of course. As he strode into a ramshakle laboratory, with emergency power only, he found he was paired with professor Liebniz. Quentin felt it was his moral duty to protect the world and the human race. Hence, he had volunteered without hesitation. Liebniz felt it was his moral duty to collate data that he could later publish and thus gain academic prestige. Hence, he had volunteered without hesitation. The two men eyed each other up suspciously as they set about looking at the computers, fax's, and printouts that surrounded them. In the distance, an occassional explosion or sound of artillery fire could be heard. Quentin thought it sounded like the blitz. The two armed soldiers who entered the room didn't help his concentration. One seemed to be a seargant. "Orders of the U.S. Army. Key operations to be guarded at all times" he grunted. The grunt by his side, well...grunted. For all their animosity, Quentin and Liebniz bonded over one thing, they did get excited about science. Poring over the data stream from a military satellite, they started noticing a strange pattern - a Grue Mothership? A Grue Weapon in orbit? they started talking excitedly, almost oblivious to the danger it could represent. "Gracious, look at the gravity fluctuations around this area!" exclaimed Quentin. "Yes, yes, I see them!" answered Liebniz "If we could do a quantum map of the nth space distortions... why, we may be able to track it!" Liebniz was cut short as the but of a rifle from the Grunt crashed down on his head, bringing a moment of agony then unconsciousness. The seargent turned to face Supercape, his features changing to that of a Grue. "You will not defeat our mighty armies, pitiful human!" he shouted. Supercape took a quick look around. Nobody watching, which was good. He decided to feign ignorance and beg for mercy. He wasn't a natural liar, but the words just popped into his head "I'm just a poor boy, give me some sympathy, easy come, easy go, will you let me go?" Any human would have laughed in his face, but the two Grue were unlikely to have an indepth knowledge of fourty year old english rock anthems. At his command, the room filled with a flash of blinding light that completely blinded the two Grue standing before him. As they stood helpless, firing randomly, it was a simple matter for a few pulses of radation to knock the alien invaders out. The few bullets that had strayed his way were frazzled by the forcefield he had erected. Quentin turned back to check Liebniz was unhurt. He was dead cold, but otherwise fine. Sadly, the computer was junked by a stray bullet, and a small fire was eating up the precious data. It looked like the two scientist's wouldn't be helping any more that day. Quentin gazed back at the two unconscious Grue, still glowing a pretty shade of purple, and then at his hand. It seemed he had just taken his first tentative step to being a superhero of Freedom City.

Everything Must Go - set in Midtown's mall Geckoman moved at full speed through the city, pausing occasionally to shoot down some flying alien gribblies. So, Chris, you go off to save the city... and forget about the girl. Good going. "Geckoman to Young Freedom, I am assisting at Millenium Mall. At present, don't need help. Although, if anyone wants to give a cheery pep talk, or make me a sandwich, it'd be much appreciated." He clicked some buttons on a panel somewhere, and hit the autopilot switch. "If you see the Pitcho heading to the Midwest, then... well, that's actually planned, believe it or not." And, with that, he leapt out of the moving airship. "GERONIMO!!!" he yelled as he plummeted towards the large building underneath him... Spellbound stood in front of the advancing aliens, wand held in front of her, crackling with lightning. She'd been trying to hold this mall, with only occasional support, for most of a day, and she was visibly flagging from the effort. "Dammit, Chris," she murmured, glancing back at the unarmed civilians behind her. "This is your job..." With that, she lunged forwards at the charging Grue, blasting one down with lighting and whirling to knock one flat on its back with the force field surrounding her. She jumped up in the air to avoid an attack and was suddenly showered with glass from above as the roof shattered. And a blood-smeared, slightly grimy Geckoman dropped towards the ground, parachute falling away as he did so. "Hey, guys," he grinned, landing on one foot and pivoting on it. "Just dropping in to say hi." And, on that, he roundhoused a Grue away from his bemused looking girlfriend. "Ever considered getting a beeper?" "I figure I can't get rid of you," smirked Liz, shaking her head. "So, shut up, and stop the bad guys so we can go home." Geckoman snapped off a quick salute as he backhanded a Geckorang through the crowd of Grue, backflipping out of his salute into a two-footed jump kick. Having left Spellbound to look after the civilians, Geckoman ran through the mall, spinning off walls, kicking Grue to the ground and occasionally swinging back up to the top level on his grapple line to deposit some poor straggler with the rest of the survivors. But it was then that he saw it. This alien seemed so much bigger than the others, and its eyes glowed with some weird white light. I think I've heard of these things. Can't they read- "Minds?" boomed the creature. Well, that's a yes. And, in a flash, it had elongated its legs to be in front of Geckoman, a fist shaped like a hammer throwing him into a lingerie store. Standing triumphant, the alien's mocking laughter stopped suddenly as a green blur shot out from a pile of scattered clothing and slammed into its stomach. Then, despite it being stunned, the teen hero's second punch missed, giving the monster time to stretch its arm into a baseball bat and send Geckoman flying, the bra which had covered up his goggles falling off in mid-air. Spellbound looked on in horror as Geckoman skidded across the floor, shedding women's underwear from his body as he crashed into a table. "This is not the time to indulge your crossdressing!" she snapped as the huge Grue crashed onto the upper level, tiles splintering underneath him. The people hiding at the back of the level screamed in panic, and started fleeing for the stairs. But once more huge, elongated alien arms came crashing down towards the crowd, only halted by a magnetically levitated cash register. "Get up, Chris! Now!" Then she paused, realising her mistake. "Geckoman!" Getting up in a haze of pain and visions of frilly lace, Geckoman leapt into the air, hurling random objects from his utility belt at the alien. The monster crashed back from three Geckorang impacts, coughed through a huge cloud of multiple smoke bombs and then pausing in bemusement at a pair of furry handcuffs. "C'mon, big guy, read what I'm going to do!" He rolled across the round and came up in a handstand, kicking furiously with his legs into the alien's chest. "Because, I assure you, I don't know what's in my big ol' mind half the time!" He pushed off from the alien with both feet, rolling away and upright as Spellbound fired a bolt of electricity straight at him, which he ducked so fast it soared over his head and into the shapeshifter's chest, throwing it off of the floor they were on. "Wand!" shouted Chris, holding out his arm. Liz managed to throw the wand, despite the fatigue clearly making it hard for her to throw it that hard. "I'll return!" And, once more, Geckoman leapt off of what he was standing on, sliding down the side of a pillar and landing on the alien's chest. "Welcome to Earth... we hope you enjoyed your time here," he growled, emptying the wand's battery into the shapeshifter's chest, leaping clear of the smell of charcoal and returning to defend the civilians upstairs. 10 hours later It was dark over Freedom City. The Pitchoo hovered over the bay, engines humming faintly as it kept itself afloat in the sky. On top of the ship sat a guy and a girl with their arms around each other. "So, what do we do about this?" said Chris softly. Liz looked up at him. "We deal with it. Just like we dealt with the massive alien invasion. Just like how you dealt with Rick. We've come too far to just end it because you enjoy running around in tights too much." Chris suppressed a laugh, and nodded. "Good point. And the tights do make me look pretty."

September 24, 2010 For a few weeks now, flyers had been scattered around Freedom City as if they were leaves falling in autumn. The flyers were an advertisement: And the date of the concert had finally come. For tonight, Eddie had done his best to come up with a set list appropriate for the event. And with his encyclopedic knowledge of songs, he had of course succeeded. Come night time, the Freedom Dome was packed. The doors had opened at 7:00, and by 7:30 the venue was packed. Finally, just before 8:00, the house lights dimmed, and the speakers hummed. [groove]22629855[/groove] The band poured out onto the stage as the music began to play. Alexis was playing drums, and practically destroying them in the process. Warren was carving away at his strings as Lead Guitar. The band's newest member, Elise, otherwise known as Bass Girl was laying down a solid bass groove while her red curly hair danced around her head. Eddie himself was up front and center stage with a microphone in his hand and a guitar strapped to his back. He had yet to start playing it, but would soon be dropping chords as Rhythm Guitar to support Warren. When the first song was over, Eddie stepped forward to address the screaming crowd, "HELLO FREEDOM!" They cheered him on, "Doesn't it feel great to be alive?" Eddie had to stop after every sentence to let the din of the crowd calm before continuing, it seemed. The rest of the band began playing the intro to the next song. "We're here tonight to make sure this city never forgets what it has been through. We're here to thank all of heroes, great and small, who helped out the day those damn aliens thought they could take over. We're here to raise money for those that lost their homes, or loved ones that day. But most of all, we're here to rock!" Eddie called out as he began to sing, "Rising up, back on the street..." [groove]22630043[/groove] As the crowed calmed down, Eddie addressed them once more. "During all the fighting, I managed to find my way to Blackstone prison. I'll tell you one thing. The Grue, really had their act together. Releasing all of those prisoners was quite the trump card. Especially when Nexus appeared. He copied the powers of both Dark Star and myself. But none of that matters. He picked a fight with the wrong heroes, and we stopped that jailbreak before it even got started!" [groove]22630149[/groove] The band didn't even stop. They kept rolling, right into the next one: [groove]22630138[/groove] The concert continued well into the night. Eddie retold his own story, as well as the stories of others. Many of whom were normal citizens, rising to the challenge and performing acts of great bravery. Over all, the band raised a great amount of money to help pay for the victims of the Grue Invasion.

FC:PbP is offering the community another "vignette" opportunity. If you'd like to read about our previous vignettes, check here. A few weeks ago, the reality-bending powers of Richard Milhous Lucas created the House of L timeline: a world where the Silver Age never ended in Freedom City. The world never really moved past the shiny optimism of the early 1960s, even keeping the same fashion choices. The Centurion survived the Terminus Invasion here It's a better world in many ways, a place of happiness, peace, and order. But it's also a deeply troubled world trapped in the mindset of an old man happier decades past, one where the revolutions of race, gender, and sexuality never really came to fruition. It's a place, in short, very much like the comics of the High Silver Age, leavened with just enough of the Bronze that minority characters actually exist. What happened to your character there, in that world with a bright side as shiny as its underbelly is grim? The Silver Age isn't friendly to all character concepts, but Rick's not a murderer: the people are there, they may simply be very different. House of Lucas Wander (Wander-L) is a cheerful, boisterous acrobat with super-strength, while Geckoman-L was adopted by the Raven and became his successor. Tell their story in that other world, give us a day in their life: give us a 'crossover' with the universe of House of L. The House of L threads can be found in Bayview for those interested in learning more about the style of the times, or you can just read pretty much any comics page on the Silver Age or Bronze Age. Perhaps even buy the relevant Green Ronin supplement! Who: Any player who is interested, for one or both of their characters. What: Write a one (1) page (single spaced) vignette featuring your character, reinterpreted through a lens of brightest Silver! (Or at least polished Bronze) When: The deadline for submissions will be Wednesday, June 30th by 11:59 PM EST (GMT -5). The vignettes themselves can take place at any time: the House of L timeline goes back to the 1990s and continues through into the future. Where: Anywhere. When you submit your vignette, please make a note clearly indicating in which forum it should be posted, as well as when it would be happening. Why: To enhance our community, to flex your writing muscles, to think more deeply about your character, and to earn a bonus PP for your character for the month of June. How: Once your story is finished and proofed, PM it to one of the Refs (angrydurf, AvengerAssembled, Ecalsneerg, Geez3r, Sandman XI, ShaenTheBrain, or myself). When all the stories are in, one of our staff members will post them to the appropriate forums (which is why we need you to be sure to tell us where it should go!), and provide links to them in this thread. DO NOT post them in a forum yourself, otherwise it will not be counted for this exercise. Post here with questions.