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

Now, while Alex had been genuinely busy - running a corporation, planning a wedding and tackling post-college course work WAS a full workload - she'd put off this particular visit deliberately. Oh, it wasn't the first leg to visit Erin that she had quietly been dreading. No, her available hang-out time had been genuinely eaten into by countless obligations. The second leg, to visit Erin's alter-ego in prison - that was not a visit Alex had ever wanted to take. She had hoped, despite the odds, that one of the other counselors could undo the machinations of Pathos. Really, it would have been better for Singularity herself as Alex's visible appearance was not one that was going to help at all, but so far no one had made any significant headway. Alex wasn't surprised, but she was saddened. She looked not much different than she had at graduation when she knocked on the door of the manor Erin was sharing with her boyfriend. Her bright red hair was pulled back in a simple tail that made her look younger and for once she wasn't dressed for the office. No, it was Old Alex, with her brightly colored clashing sneakers and tank top, a light jacket covering her slim shoulders. The only jewelry she wore was the bright engagement ring and as a nod to adult hood, small hoops in her ears. In her off hand, she held a simple closed portfolio and the smile she gave Erin when the door opened was bright and beaming, despite the faint shadows under her eyes. Alex had been burning the midnight oil a lot lately. "Erin! I'm sorry that it took a necessary errand to get me to come visit but how are you?" Alex started talking the moment the door was open. She'd already knew who was on the other side, of course.

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

September 15, 2011 Maybe it was small, maybe it was almost empty, maybe it was a little close to the elevated train line and a little far from the grocery store, but the deposits were paid, the lease was signed, and Erin had her very first apartment. Moving in her belongings and the secondhand furniture she'd bought online hadn't taken long, since there wasn't that much of it. It had actually taken her longer to stock the cupboards, the pantry and the refrigerator with the food she'd picked up for her new kitchen. Things didn't matter, but having enough to eat did. Her new place didn't have a TV or a sofa or a table yet, but there was a bed and a bookshelf and a pretty nice chair, with a cat tree for Oliver and plenty of food for girl and feline. It had probably been silly to rent a place now, when she didn't have enough stuff to furnish a place and when she still hadn't found a job, but it seemed like it was time. What was she going to do in the Manor all day when Trevor was in classes, anyway? She'd spent time cleaning up the Manor, dusting the various rooms and polishing the wood furniture, mostly as a thank you for being allowed to stay there. With her speed, though, it didn't take very long to keep even a big building clean, especially when the people living there were two neat and spartan bachelor-types. Having her own place, and her own bills, would get her past the weird reluctance she felt about getting a new job after the first one had gone down in such spectacular flames. She'd already wasted most of the summer, between one thing and another. Her savings would give her enough to live on for a couple months, even without dipping into the money from Alex that she still felt a little weird about.

Wander had no idea why she was patrolling tonight. It was way too hot for anyone to be committing any sort of crime. Even up on the rooftops where there was a bit of a breeze, she was about to melt into a puddle inside the very sturdy, very long-sleeved and long-pantsed new uniform Frank had made her. She definitely preferred winter patrols. Normally she wouldn't have been out at all on a night like tonight, but with the city still unsettled from the latest world-shaking threat, who knew what could be going down? Not to mention the fact that Trevor was sleeping and every goddamned time she closed her eyes she was back on EZO1 and that wasn't where she liked to spend her evenings. Even Freedom City in the melting summer heat was better. Late in the evening she found herself down near Lincoln, not her usual territory, but a place where she'd spent some time. She'd patrolled every neighborhood in the city during her training, just to get familiar with them. There seemed to be something interesting going on here, at least. A lot more guys than usual wearing a lot more clothes than seemed necessary on a night like this were walking furtively down the streets, heading towards what looked like some old factory. Her nose caught the scent of smoke on the air, and dimly against the sky she could see puffs coming from the big old brick chimney. Curious, she began to draw closer.

Wail's making just a regular Intimidate check to start off with. Intimidate check. (1d20+15=25)

The Rise of Evil!Doktor Archeville begins!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continued from >Worn-Out Places The black dots faded, leaving behind them an ominous natural darkness. They were all standing on a cracked concrete floor, the distant sound of rumbling machinery and gunfire echoing in their ears. The air was rank and still with the heat of summer, and the sound of scuttling rats was at least as loud as the noise outside. And inside they were: the room around them seemed to be a damp, ruined basement, with only the broken remnants of stone steps leading up to ground level. As the heroes walked closer to the steps, thin rays of moonlight stabbed through the edges of the ruined ceiling. The bits of rubble shifted and moved under their strides, stirring up full regiments of fleeing rats in their wake. It was Trevor who recognized where they were first, thanks both to his piercing gaze and a sudden, nagging familiarity with the room. They were in the basement of the Rothsteins, the elderly Jewish couple who lived in the same sprawling block of mansions as his grandfather, a convival enough bunch whose main virtue as neighbors was being too busy with their poodle-breeding hobby to worry much about their elderly chemist neighbor and his quiet grandson. Standing in the rubble of their home, looking fresh enough to have been destroyed just a few years ago, it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. For his part, Edge led the way: with a gesture from him there were new stone stairs to climb, and he was up pushing open the door to gaze out at the scene outside. And what a scene it was: three night-black helicopters were whizzing by overhead, making a beeline for the shape of a very familiar house, leading the way behind a half-dozen armored vehicles coming out of a darkened city with a broken skyline lit only by searchlights. The Nazis were out in force tonight, and they were heading straight for the Midnight Manor. The helicopters were going to be in range of the Manor in seconds...

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

May 22, 2011 9 AM Lincoln The Church of the Eternal Rock of Justice is the oldest traditionally black church in Freedom City. The congregation dates back to the 1850s when the first large black communities began in the city, while the building itself is a magnificent Romanesque cathedral rebuilt and refurbished in the 1920s thanks to lavish donations from a wealthy parishioner turned beauty shop tycoon. Chester Brown, the Bluesman, once sang in the choir here, at least before he decided to take his magnificent vocal talents, and his fists, to juke joints rather than choir. (The acoustics are still magnificent.) Back in the 1960s, 'the Rock' was a centerpiece of Freedom City's civil rights movement: Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke here in 1966, back when today's senior pastor Reverend Thaddeus Q. Stone was just another fervent young believer in the crowd. Now in his mid-60s, Stone is famous for rejecting the support of larger religious organizations who make their financial aid dependent on adopting regressive social politics he and his congregants reject: the Rock, as it has so often in the past, stands for integrity and compassion. Numbers of parishoners are falling these days, as they are in most churches, but it remains a centerpiece of Freedom City's community. Parishioners are running out the door; screaming. "There are dragons in the church! There are dragons in the church!" And sure enough, if one looked past the frightened older woman clinging to the rail as she heads down and away, inside the sanctuary is a scene from a science fiction film: six gigantic reptilians, each as tall as a man with a tail whipping behind them as long as they were tall, paced the hallways as those parishioners who hadn't been able to run cowered in their seats or slipped away where they hoped the new arrivals couldn't find them. Today was children's choir! Standing behind his podium, secure in his faith (if not, if he was honest, his ability to live through the next few minutes,) the Reverend Stone faced down fearlessly the largest of the beasts as it stalked down the aisle towards him. No, not a beast... On closer inspection, all the new arrivals were wearing harnesses and carrying gear, their clawed hands working with an unnatural dexterity. And so it was that as the lizard-thing approached him, the Reverend asked, "How can I help you, Brother?" The thing hissed a reply in English that sounded inside the Reverend's head, its foul breath like rotten meat blasting in his face. "<Monkeys! Where are your leaders!>"

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

11:50 am, 4-9-11 Champion's Restaurant/The Super Museum What's a mentoring program without a little R&R? Whether an official part of the program or not, Fulcrum considered it a vital part of the process. Which meant that many months after being paired with Wander, Fulcrum invited the powerful heroine to join her for lunch at Champion's restaurant. Well, actually, a visit to the Super Museum followed by lunch at Champion's, but that was neither here nor there. Her treat too! A few minutes before the appointed time, Fulcrum hovered lightly just inside the Museum's entry, examining a poster advertising a new exhibit of heroes from the early 1970s. She wore her costume, but over the program's timeline, that was becoming a common occurrence, even when she was 'off duty'.

Erin and Trevor were having lunch together the Monday after moving their relationship to the next level when Erin's cell phone (which she was luckily carrying) rang. It was Mark on the other end, Mark who neither Trevor nor Erin had seen that morning. "Oh hi Erin," said Mark, his voice sounding oddly warbly, and a little thick. "Um, how are things going? Is everything okay over there?" On his end of things, Mark was sitting in his room, staring at the wall and one of the many, many, many pictures of Young Freedom there. "Things aren't very good here. Could you guys come over?"

Friday 25th February, 5PM Evander arrived in the gym a few minutes before the time he'd arranged with Wander over campus e-mail. The gym was thankfully only sparsely populated - the sheer size of the deluxe building meant that onlookers were going to be few and far between. He was definitely glad of that. He kept his bare arms crossed, hugging himself. He felt pretty self-conscious. He was wearing black basketball shorts and a white sleeveless T-shirt; naturally he'd also elected to wear his breastplate too, to give him maximum protection from his opponent's blows. He really hoped she didn't make him take it off. His talaria completed the outfit. In a setting like this they didn't look the least bit out of place, and their magical properties meant he shouldn't get too battered and bruised either. At least dad didn't confiscate all this stuff too, he thought. He must have realised I'd have a need for it. He looked at his watch. Less than a minute to go. He was all nervous, his stomach fluttering almost as much as his hands. He thought about Erin, all red hair and taut musculature, a graceful and sinewy body with a sharp mind behind those eyes. He'd thought about her a lot over the last week, in fact. He shook his head. Stupid. He'd heard around school that she was dating someone, and besides, there was something about her, something that warned him off. Made him a little scared of her. He didn't know whether it was her physical presence, or something in her demeanour. Something that suggested she'd already lived a life of terrible experience. 40 seconds. Jesus, you're acting like you're on a date. This is equivocally, most assuredly not a date! Get a grip!.

February 16th, 2011 It still surprised Erin to come into her room and see the flowers on her dresser, bursting with life and color. They were so pretty, and they made the whole room smell good. She'd been very surprised when Trevor had given them to her for Valentine's Day. She'd been expecting something more, well, utilitarian, but though she'd never have thought of them herself, the flowers were really lovely. The fact that they were personalized, and that he'd planned ahead and gotten another hero to help him out... it sort of made her card look blah in comparison. She hoped that his birthday present would make up for that. Valentine's Day had been really nice in general, she thought as she unpacked her backpack and stacked up her pile of homework on the desk. Going out and watching the stars had been surprisingly cool, and the kissing and makeout opportunity hadn't been squandered either. They hadn't gone any further than that, and the unspoken message was clear. Even after the interruption in his room last time, it was still her call if and when they went any further. She was grateful for that knowledge, even though she thought having to decide might well drive her insane. Didn't she have more important things to be obsessing about, like where she was going to live or work in another four months? Sex shouldn't even be on the table for her, yet there it was, and it wasn't going to go away unless she picked it up or pushed it off. Erin walked over to the dresser and looked at the flowers, smelled them again. Next to the vase, her parents' faces smiled out at her from a broken frame. She sighed and closed her eyes a moment, rubbing the third finger of her right hand, where her promise ring used to be. Since she hadn't been wearing it the last time she left Seattle, it was gone for good, but that didn't really change anything. Maybe she'd only been in junior high when she'd promised at church she would wait till she was married, but she'd known what she was doing. It had made a lot of sense at the time. She didn't want to end up pregnant or with kids saying she was easy, or with some kind of disease. It had been an easy promise to make back then, one that had made her parents proud of her thoughtfulness and maturity. The little silver ring they'd given her had been a token of their pride, and a reminder of her own value. Looking away from the picture, Erin drew a black lily and a yellow rose from the bouquet, carrying them over to her bed and sitting down. A promise was a promise, wasn't it? She knew for a fact that her counterpart here hadn't lived up to it, but that was different. Her parents were still alive, her family was all there. Erin knew logically that if things had gone differently, she'd probably have done the same thing. Even by the time she'd gotten to high school, she was starting to have her doubts about the whole waiting business. Wasn't that why the ring had been in her jewelry box and not on her hand on that last night? But it was different for her, she admitted, because her parents were dead, and the promises she'd made them seemed more important because of it. God knew she'd failed them in everything else, so really all she had left to give them was faithfulness to their memories. Not that she believed in God anymore, or that anyone up in the sky or down under the earth would care if she were having sex, but a promise once made ought to be kept. That had to matter. As she sat and stewed, Erin toyed with the stems of the flowers, twining them together. Maybe it wasn't even really an issue. Her parents couldn't have foreseen the future, and that had certainly been a mercy. They had no way to know of the strange journey she'd have to take, or how horribly alone she would be throughout. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to, the way they'd have assumed it would go when they let her make her little junior high pledge. It seemed ludicrous to think she'd ever get married to anyone at this point, with all her neuroses and depression and annoying nervous habits. Was she supposed to remain alone her entire life because of that? The fact that she had Trevor at all, for any length of time, was a kind of miracle. Why shouldn't she be able to enjoy it, for as long as it was good? Maybe the promise didn't even apply anymore, she thought, looking down at the twinned arrangement she'd made. She was eighteen years old, she was an adult now. Surely her parents had just wanted what was best for her, for her not to make mistakes and get herself in trouble and do things she wasn't ready for when she was younger. Now that she was old enough, and was thinking it all through, and would be careful and take precautions, maybe they would be happy to see her happy for once, and getting something that she wanted. That had to be more important than whether she'd waited to secure a particular piece of documentation, right? Erin sighed, setting aside the flowers and laying back on her bed. She wished she had someone to talk to who could give her advice on all this stuff. She wished her mom was there to talk to and actually ask, that would make things so much clearer. All she had to go on were her own intuitions, and make decisions that were entirely her own. And she knew what she wanted, whether or not she could actually have it. She was interested in sex, oh absolutely, but the idea of having someone to hold onto in the dark was at least as seductive. Maybe sleep wouldn't be so elusive, maybe the dreams wouldn't be as bad. Surely she wouldn't feel so lonely at the thought of leaving Claremont and trying to find a place in the world where she was an extra copy. That was probably a selfish way to think, using Trevor to try and fight her own demons, but he already knew that about her, he couldn't say he wasn't warned. And he was lonely too, and they loved each other. She'd never treat him the way his old girlfriend had treated him, and that had to be good for something. And she would be very careful, and thoughtful, and that way whatever happened, she wouldn't have to have any regrets. That had to be the way her folks would've wanted it. Erin got up and went back to the computer and scheduled an appointment in the infirmary.

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

Alex was quick to slip inside the suite she shared with Erin, stepping into the bathroom first on the off chance her roommate wanted to linger to say good night to her boyfriend. Mike wasn't the type to try and sneak more than a chaste good night's kiss (Much to Alex's chagrin often enough) but she didn't begrudge Erin her moments. Alex was nothing if not patient. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she slipped into the main room in her robe and headed to crawl into the center of the giant bed, giggling as she sank into the mattress. "Best. Beds. Ever!"

November 2, 8:00 PM; Hanover Second National Bank All seemed quiet on the streets of North Freedom. Most businesses had closed hours ago, and the few that had remained open after sunset were beginning to lock their doors and count their registers. Pax flew high overhead, relishing the crisp night air upon his face as he made a quick circuit of Freedom City. It was like nothing he had ever seen, and so very far removed from the landscape of his native Hawaii. Man, this is awesome! His quiet contemplation of the cities wonder's were interrupted by a loud crash below. Halting his flight, he looked down upon the streets and saw the source of the commotion: half a dozen humanoid robots had crashed through the double doors of Hanover Second National! Uhh, I didn't see them a second ago... weird. Pax felt something uneasy in the pit of his stomach, something he hadn't felt since his mother took him rock-diving for the first time. He was nervous, maybe even a little scared. Never-the-less, he descended upon the crowd of robots ready for anything.