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Found 41 results

  1. GM March 21st, 2017 8:31 AM A girl slipped in about a half hour after opening, short, a little shorter than Gretchen, though certainly not as slender as she was. She wasn't just hispanic, she was certainly an indio. A punk, with a burnt sienna colored dreadlock hanging on the side of her face, under striped hood of her striped sweatshirt. She idly picked through things, grabbing three books, and a magazine, before she moved back towards the front of the shop. Her age hard to tell, she pursed her lips, and played with the piercing on the lower one. "'Scuse me... only one here?" Her voice was heavily accented, matching where her face was from and English might not even be her second language. She continued on as she set the books down on the counter and she looked at Gretchen. The girl's smell permeated the air, some sort of fruity essential oil, and freshly rained on dirt. A little odd, but then, book stores like this place attracted worse. "Do you do a Mexican mocha?" Pushing up her brows as she shifted her purse up and onto the table, before she was shuffling through the studded leather thing.
  2. December 18th. 10:30ish AM. Winter break for Claremont. And Alumni Elias Silvestri was asked to do a thing. Which meant they were desperate, or they didn't know how to related to Jann. Given Elias was viewed with... less than stellar perspective, he didn't understand how he could help. Other than the telepath and outsider thing. But there he was sitting in a little camp in Wharton, arms folded, as he was perched in a folding camp chair, near the fire. In a bit of an makeshift sort of shelter he was proficient in making, and in his heavy, reinforced jeans, and green flannel shirt, he waited for Jann. His eyes locked on the fire waiting. Talk, he supposed, help. Or something. Not that they gave him much to work from, so it was probably as much a lesson for him, as it was for the student. F***ing Summers always playing these little games. Even when it didn't objectively help as much as hinder. So he waited.
  3. GM Bayview Heights Bayview, Freedom City New Jersey Wednesday, February 1st, 2017 5:30 PM So an Avian royal, a psilent human weapon, an elementally empowered university student, and an undead magician walk into a bar. No it's not a set up. This odd collection of heroes were investigating a biker gang that had been rumored to have a supply of zombie powder they wished to get back on the streets. Even managing to successfully track down the biker's favorite dive bar, nestled away in the affluent part of Southern Freedom, Aka Bayview. The plan was for Errant to keep them mentally cloaked while they scoped out the inside. That was until he turned his head to the television and heard the Atlantean declaration of war. All of a sudden his attention faltered for the slightest of moments and they became visible in the middle of the bar. Completely surrounded by bikers.
  4. OOC for Here. Can I get a Notice check please. DC 17?
  5. GM "Excuse me, Mister... I apologize, I am not sure what pronoun or honorific to use with you...?" The woman let the words dangle in air. Strong. Tall. Confident. And suddenly just there, where no one had been in the waiting area. She was what someone who imagine as a member of AEGIS. "I am Ms. Nameth, I'll be serving as liaison, I apologize for the suddenness that this happening. There were some natural concerns, though I believe we found an... individual who fits your needs." There was not a hint being betrayed by the brown haired woman in the navy pantsuit. "Please follow me, we decided it was best that this be conducted in a secure room." Not that they had to go far, just a few feet to a nondescript door, which she opened, and gestured inward, to brightly lit room that looked like an interrogation room, with the flat broad table and two seats across each other. "Can we get you anything to eat or drink?"
  6. Silberman's Books. Wednesday, Novermber 30th, 2016. 11:00 am Even though it was probably her riskiest hire ever, Lynn was optimistic about hiring Merge; coverage would not be much of a problem anymore, and she felt that once she adjusted her groove a bit to match the tone of the store, the colorful duplicator would bring a lot to the team. But as tempting as a full staff of Merges was (Oh, the looks on the faces of the old Jews of the neighborhood; it would almost be worth it!), the changeling knew she still needed a few more warm bodies. The store was starting to slow down a bit from the morning coffee-and-danish rush, but a handful of regulars were still sipping their coffee. Maddy had the morning off, so it was Lance and Gretchen behind the bar/counter while Lynn walked the floor; today, she wore green curly toed shoes, a bright green sweater and comfy jeans under her brown Silberman's apron, all topped with a red Santa hat and a pair of cute 'elf ears' (nudge nudge, wink wink). The store was decorated in old-fashioned Christmas decorations, including a big Scotch pine covered in lights, and a train set chased itself around the table in the children's section.
  7. TheAbsurdist


    April 16th. It was a cool spring night, no rain, or much of anything else. Even in the Fens That was not much of a comfort to the guy on the ground. Bald, and looking like less a junkie hood, and more a professional in crime, he was still scrambling back, crablike, from the smaller, shadow shrouded, form that was walking towards him. Acting very unprofessional. The white of the hockey mask he wore was a stark from the grays and black he wore over the rest of himself. As he walked, he let the piece of rebar drag and rasp against the brick wall. "Don't reach for the gun. It wont stop me, and then I will be upset." His voice was level, in that deep monotone he had, but dull, dispassionate. His gait didn't stop, didn't change as he approached the man. "I want information and you have it. You will give it to me." There wasn't a hint of threat or menace, perhaps some implied from his efforts, but that was in. Then the piece of rebar was moved to aim at the hood, the point right between the man's eyes. "You... you're sick man! Sick! I've dealt with you masks before, this isn't how it is supposed to go!" The criminal lashed out with words, even as he cowered, and stared at the rebar. "I'm not sick Lawrence Hardy. I haven't done anything. You're the one who is afraid, it's your imaginings that are running wild and filling the empty spaces in your head. I've done nothing." Came that dry reasoning from behind the hockey mask. "I can't help you! You f***ing psycho! I'm sorry! Just leave me alone!" The masked man man seemed to stiffen a bit, "Lawrence, don't lie to me. You're not sorry." And then he lifted the rebar to strike the man. "Not yet."
  8. ?????????Monday, June 8th, 2015???? Time had become a distant memory. Day in and Day out the three teens had been dragged out to fight for the entertainment of an alien audience. Never as a team. Always one on one in a staggered order until they were left exhausted. Their clothes were torn, their bodies battered. And worst of all they hadn't spoken to anyone in a week. At least not out loud. Errant, had been acting as a communication relay from his cell when it wasn't his turn to fight. Perhaps serving as the only saving grace in keeping a measure of sanity. Each of their cells remained completely unlit. There was no mattress, the food in their trays were flavorless gruel. They were essentially in completely sealed 4' x 4' rooms. There were guards posted outside of each of their cells, sight unseen. All armed with staves that acted as blasters. Despite their imprisonment, their spirits had not been dampened in the slightest. Escape was on all four teen's minds. Ranked slightly ahead of revenge.
  9. New Freedom There's a reason why you don't hear much about the only country on Earth-Prime run by and for superhumans: it's not a very nice, or very hospitable, place to live. Back in 1938, Kreigsmarine Captain Alfred Ritscher commanded the Third German Antarctic Expedition, officially aiming to build a whaling station (and possible naval base) for the Third Reich in Antarctica. (Ritscher's genuine target was of course the extra-terrestrial city discovered by the ill-fated Lake Expedition of 1931). Despite the high adventure and terrifying ordeals faced by the Nazi explorers in the interior of the islands, the German sailors and soldiers posted to the secret Kriegsmarine base in New Swabia actually considered it something a punishment detail, given the length of time between resupply missions and the harsh conditions of the Antarctic coast. In 1943, American superheroes interrupted an attempt to transport a shoggoth by U-Boat, and the subsequent damage caused by the creature rendered the base uninhabited. Until 1946, when an American superhero arrived. Othello (born Paul Leroy) was a New Jersey native by birth, a Freedom City son whose mutant abilities had manifested in 1940 during his time on the Freedom City Watchmen, Freedom's Negro League baseball team that later merged with the Flags. With strength, speed, leaping, and invulnerability akin to the early Centurion's, Othello was a smart man, a former political science major at Freedom City College who recognized that his strongly left-wing political leanings would be held against him in the conservative climate after the war. He worried in particular that his superhuman abilities would make him a target by government scientists, who he felt had targeted him for particularly dangerous missions during the war so as to eliminate him as a political actor. Visiting New Swabia in secret, Othello used his speed and strength to rebuild the shattered and melted fortifications, give decent Christian burial to all the dead Nazis, and make the former German settlement fit for human habitation again. He used his connections in the OSS to cover his work, recruiting several disaffected Allied supers and inviting them to join him in his plans to build a homestead in the last frontier on Earth. By 1950, when word of their activities finally reached a distracted United States, Othello had recruited a half-dozen former American, British, and French super-agents and their families to his cause. President Truman dispatched the Patriot to deal with his old comrade, and two days before the outbreak of the Korean War, Simmons met Othello at the Schirmacher Oasis for a conversation that had unfortunately not been recorded by historians. The Patriot left Antarctica with a recommendation to his superiors that they leave the (technically-illegal) base alone, going to his own destiny alongside the Atomic Brigade later. Time passed, and the colony's population slowly grew. Several Chinese super-agents opted to resettle in Antarctica after choosing to remain in UN hands after the Korean War, while Othello made the controversial decision to accept the immigration of selected Ubersoldaten (only those who had either served their time or had not committed formal war crimes) and their families to the colony he had dubbed New Freedom. The coastal settlement was theoretically under American and UN auspices, but in practice it was something new, a colony of superhumans and the normals they loved, an independent republic under the auspices of the now-greying Othello and his family. With the weather-manipulating Hosato making the region hospitable and the teleporting Mathson providing transportation and formidable scientific expertise, the cold ice of one small corner of Antarctica gradually became habitable in shirtsleeves even by the smallest mundane child. Othello proved his desire for independence when he repelled an 'incident' carried out secretly by Soviet super-agents in 1957, and again in 1961 when he defeated an uprising against his leadership organized by agents of Dr. Sin. It was a social experiment, a colony of several hundred hardy souls whose primary goal was freedom: in New Freedom, superhumans could live without fear of discrimination (that they faced in many Third World countries), fear of conscription (that they faced in the Warsaw Pact and various dictatorships) or simply an inability to fit in with the conservative social consensus of the West. Every man and woman was equal, powered or otherwise, and everyone was valued by the community. And all of it, at least in theory, under the auspices of the American government and the United Nations. It all came to a crashing halt in 1968, when AEGIS arrived to arrest the Drifter. Peter Hopper, given powers by a secret government experiment some years earlier, had abandoned his post in South Vietnam, fleeing to Antarctica to escape desertion charges and bringing with him shocking evidence of corruption in the highest corridors of power in Washington, centered around the Golden Triangle of opium trade in Southeast Asia. When AEGIS agents showed up in force, brushing past Othello's automatic offer of sanctuary for the wanted criminals, blows were struck, and then shots were fired. When all was said and done, the AEGIS carrier was down, the Drifter was dead (by 'suicide'), and Othello had made up his mind. Though Jack Simmons showed up to personally apologize and arrest the rogue agents in New Freedom's custody, Othello had seen enough. He personally ran to Washington to deliver New Freedom's Declaration of Independence. The world's first metahuman nation was born. Things were bad after that. New Freedom had gained their dream, but at the cost of trade embargoes by the West and East, both of whom saw the new nation as a threat to their imperial destiny. There were more attacks by the Eastern Bloc, and supervillains too saw New Freedom as an egg suddenly abandoned by its mother. War came to Antarctica, a quiet, vicious war waged in the snowy outskirts and fertile fields of the small country. The defenders of New Freedom learned to kill to defend themselves, and Othello reluctantly allowed his country to become part of the non-aligned block. The superhuman nature of the early settlers meant that New Freedom had, by a huge margin, the most superpowered population on Earth. Young men and women of Antarctica became mercenaries and superagents, renting themselves to South Africa and Israel, Taiwan and Pakistan, all the 'rogue nations' of the Cold War era looking for, but lacking, superpowered protectors. New Freedom began to take in more and more disreputable elements; Portuguese from Goa and white settlers from Rhodesia, along with wealthy superhumans who liked the nation's lack of extradition treaties, and the dream looked very close to dying. Othello died in 1983, the Presidency of New Freedom inherited by Jade Harper, a Eurasian chemically-powered agent who had been one of the most lethal warriors of Southeast Asia. Jade had come of age in a New Freedom constantly under attack from within and without, and had learned her tradecraft in some of the most vicious fighting of the Cold War. She did not have the loyalty to the United States that her predecessor had maintained in his heart of hearts, nor did she want to maintain the democratic traditions he had established. By the Terminus Invasion, New Freedom was nothing of the sort. New Freedom Today Leah Harper, of mixed Vietnamese, Israeli, and Irish heritage, inherited the Presidency of New Freedom from her mother in 2010 after one of Jade's many enemies finally caught up with her. Leah presides over a nation of some 10,000 souls, a uniquely multi-ethnic melting pot recently increased by migrants from Iraq, Hong Kong, and Albania. New Freedom is a harsh place, a tightly unified dictatorial republic presided over by the President and her appointed Council. Over two-thirds of the population is superhuman in one way or another (superpowers being the only guaranteed path to legal migration), and one of the primary job tracks (as well as a good way to keep the population down and get rid of young people With Ideas) is work as a foreign mercenary in Africa and Central Asia, or as a supercriminal in the United States. New Freedomites speak English with a faint, unique accent, and look to be of no particular race. The nation is not actually a United Nations member, but their population is large enough, and powerful enough, that no one has ever worked up the resources to do anything about their government. The Harpers have written several long, didactic books of political theory justifying their rule, the sort much beloved by poorly socialized high school students and undergraduates: New Freedom's government is strictly utilitarian, and is as likely to take in North Korean super-exiles as they are to rent the services of their own citizens to the Kim family as legbreakers and goons. It's true that superhumans can live like kings in New Freedom, insulated from many of the laws restricting their activities in more civilized nations...assuming they don't mind the dark grey clothing, the political indoctrination, the cramped living conditions, and the nationwide commitment to service, order, and peace. It's not a bad way to live, if you're well-connected and can get access to the resources of the outside world that work outside the country so often brings. Leah herself worked for various American mercenary companies in the 1990s and 2000s, and she has many connections still in Washington and Baghdad. (She hopes to be able to bring over former super-agents of the various Arab dictatorships facing overthrow at the time of this writing.) People who can't, or won't live the New Freedom way leave. The ones that have seen too much die, or change their names, all trying to avoid a hit squad made up of lethal, professional ex-black ops agents with connections all over the world. Like so many new nations, New Freedom has kept its independence, but lost its soul. It's a land that needs heroes. New Freedom Characters New Freedom is the home of the superhero Errant, the heroic scion of a legacy of metahuman telepathic enforcers.
  10. HGM

    Child Psi-cology

    Cline Home Port Regal, Freedom City, New Jersey 7:22 PM Saturday, February 21st, 2015 During Next-Gen's weekly training sessions, which had increased to bi-weekly since alien robots failed to destroy the planet, Will had expressed to his teammates that his parents needed a babysitter for his sister. Professor Psion's recent bout of being alive had left the family on high alert. Though before their teammate could spit out the request in full Thaelia had already gleefully volunteered. It went without saying that there was a moment of relief when Errant volunteered afterwards to help the overly ambitious demigoddess. The ever optimistic Glamazon was many things. An experienced hand at watching children was not at the top of the list. The fact that her mind was an open book was equally a mixed blessing in that she'd be someone not bothered in the slightest about watching over a telepath. As her telepathic partner in arms could attest. The princess of Atlantis had neither the patience nor the inclination to wait for a taxi, Thaelia had sped alongside traffic from the academy to the private Cline estate. A blur charging in an out of traffic without even the slightest notice of the below freezing temperature. Upon arriving she gave the premises an excited visual scan from the outside. Thaelia's familiarity with the living situation of her friends was mainly limited to the academy dorms. The Cline house was no dorm room for sure. The powerhouse babysitter would take a rare moment to wait for the other youth before starting a trek to the front door. Despite his lack of ability to encroach upon the sound barrier, Thaelia had never known Errant to be anything less than punctual.
  11. It could have been any street in Freedom City, or almost any city in the world, a crowd of people making there way to work. In the early morning light everyone looked gray and almost the same, but that was because everything seemed to be in black and white. And there was no sounds the people moved in complete silence and more unusual for a telepath no thoughts or emotions leaked from these people. Apart from the two of you standing there as the crowd weaved around you there was a flash of red of a figure moving against the flow of people.
  12. Do believe everyone's appropriately tagged. Chime in if you like. Should mention, the gathering under the tree is supposed to be all the ladies. Though, if you've got a better entrance, use it.
  13. There had been a spate of small power outages over the past several days. A slice of Freedom’s grid would blink off for as much as five seconds before blinking back on. A few blocks of one would go out, then come back. Then an entirely different neighborhood. The Fens. Lantern Hill. Southside. Lincoln. Even Bayview and Port Regal managed to get in on the act once or twice. It was weird, but Freedomites didn’t pay a lot of attention to it. It happened mostly in the dead of night. The power company said it’s nothing. More interesting things happened on a literally daily basis. And so on. Until Claremont Academy’s power “blinked†for the third total time, no one had taken much interest in the happenings at all. November 21, 2014. Claremont Academy. 11:45 PM It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously. There was a pretty good thunderstorm going on in the skies of Freedom. Vonnie would normally be asleep by now. Class in the morning, and all that. But today was sweet, glorious Friday. He and LJ could text each other all night long. Or he could stealth over into the girls’ dorm and spend the night. His roommate slept like the dead, and her roomie slept like a rock. Or was one. LJ couldn’t tell, and Vonnie didn’t care enough to find out for himself. Yep, he was going over there and d#$% the consequences if he got caught. He strapped on his grapples, opened his window, and leapt out into space. A short grapple and climb sequence later, he was at her window. Wet and a bit windblown, but there. A few soft knocks after that, he was in her room and they were both sitting on her bed. Huh. Her roomie both slept like and was kind a rock. That was when the power “blinkedâ€. Somehow just short enough of an outage that the emergency power didn’t trigger and come on. Vonnie sighed. Third time in three days? His “this is a job for Samaritan†sense was tingling. LJ had a similar sense and gave him the “just go already†look. They started having a conversation based entirely on specific looks. <But he didn’t know where to start. Also pressing business here, yes?> <Vonnie, you know better.> Vonnie sighed quietly. “It’s not like New York. I was always first there. But there’s so many heroes in town, now I’m lucky if I’m fifth. I don’t know. I just feel kinda…extra, you know? Like I’m not needed, because someone else will always handle it.†LJ nodded. “So that’s why you’ve been patrolling less lately.†She grew thoughtful. Then she plucked him in the head. “Ow. What was that for?†“You’re overthinking stuff again. You’re not there for the dozen, hundred, thousand or more that don’t need you. You’re there for the one that does. Don’t give up so easy. It’s not like you.†Vonnie stood up. “Alright. But I’m telling you, somebody’s already on this. Probably have it sorted out before I even figure out what’s going on.†On that note, he opened LJ’s window and leaped out. Back in his own room, he grabbed his mask, shirt, and black hooded windbreaker(as his roomie continued sleeping like the dead) and made the most undramatic change from Vonnie Murray into Samaritan. Mask & shirt on. Jacket on, zipped up tight and hood up. This time, though, he’d go out the front door like a normal person. Yes indeed. Being just about the fastest non-speedster on campus did have its perks. He was out of the building before anyone had the chance to realize he was gone. He made it to the Gardens before running into anyone. He thought he recognized some of the group assembled under that big tree, if not all of them. He stripped off the mask, stuffed it into a jacket pocket, and pulled his hood tighter. “Hello?â€
  14. GM April 20th. There were in the wrong part of town. The criminals. Well at least the wrong timing for the wrong part of town. It didn't really help that they were in a neck of the woods (also know as The Docks) that Wildcat resided in. Or more accurately where he had his day job, and then a couple things out of place, and it led him here, during a shipment. Which had to go through here, air travel and shipping being a bit more watched than the sea and ocean going stuff. Which meant that one dude was taking a boomerang to the face, which was a polite response to the man drawing a gun. It was akin to say, 'No, sir, I do not believe that is a topic that belongs in our conversation.' The other three did put up a bit of a fight, however.
  15. May 15th It was supposed to be a week long trip. One planned by Elias, with one instructor, Mr. Landis, being the one watching to make sure this didn't go belly up. It was a hiking survival trip through the Pine Barren in Wharton. So the potential was there. Given the intent, all the students were told to pack rugged, and since more didn't have camping gear, it would be provided. Given the nature of the Pine Barrens scavenging would be tricky, but there would be an effort for it. A return to simplicity that the students needed after the last year, or so. SOme more than others. They were completely helpless, but they were not oing full scavenge, the Pine Barrens wouldn't allow for it, and they had to account for water too, after all. Also it would serve as a senior project for Elias, who he had to come up with the study, as well as teach some of his skills to other. So he was being graded on this, as well as him being watch to see if he was truly socialized, as Mr. Landis argued the kid was ready to... whatever awaited him after graduation. So with the van parked, packs were taken, ameneties were kissed goodbye. There wasn't much lead in to, but those familiar with Elias knew that would be the case, as the telepath always seemed apt to go off half-cocked and do things. So him packing a machete might be a concerning, but he waited for everyone to get ready, and he glanced to Mr. Landis, who shrugged and gestured back to the kid. "Okay... Camp site is five miles." And he moved handing each of them a map and compass. "It should be an easy hike, there is no change in elevation. Try to avoid powers if possible, and unfortunately we can't really hunt, but we can do snares when we get settled, but the seaon is bad for it. I know some of you don't really need any additional survival stuff, but..." He frowned a little bit, and then he moved to pluck a pale green lichen from the tree, "I guess we have to start somewhere, this is Old Man's Beard. It will work as wound packing, and the stretchy semi-clear interior," he said as he rubbed at the outside of the plant so it will show, "This had some anti-septic properties. It's not much, but if something happens it'll do in a pinch." And with that he stuffed it into a pocket. "Alright let's get going then." And with that he turned and started out down the trail. Clearly not at ease with the task at hand. A couple hours later and some kids more tired than others, they were at the spot, though it wasn't finished. "I'll work on the firepit. We're start here by looking for sufficient stuff to make a lean to. So you want groundfall limbs, several of about six feet or so" And with that he set his stuff down, and then started on working at making a centralized fire for which they had could be set up. It was needed, given rain was likely. "And pine boughs will be useful too, we wont really have anything else."
  16. Dakana International Airport, Dakana 16th February 2015, 13:00 EAT (GMT +3) It wasn’t often that Claremont asked it’s students to travel halfway around the world, even if it was school holidays, but it wasn’t often that the request came on behalf of an actual King. The request was rather enigmatic but seemed to come from an official source of the Kings household. After rather lengthy discussion it was decided that one of the schools semi-official teams, Next-Gen, would have the honor to travel to Dakana. Flight BP66 one of the very modern Airbuses lands almost on schedule at the airport in a long but comfortable flight, whilst you were travelling economy the flight had very generous legroom. With the correct paperwork in hand you breezed through immigration to pick up your luggage that had travelled as diplomatic bags. Everything had been carefully prepared to make thing runs smoothly. Soon you were in the ultra modern clean airport lounge looking for whoever was here to greet you to this small African country.
  17. OoC for this.
  18. Miller Park, The Fen’s Freedom City 23rd February 2015, 10:00 am The small rather grotty park on the edge of the fen’s had a rather dubious distinction for the kind of people that inhabited the park through the night. BUt the local inhabitants had had enough and were trying to improve the reputation of the area and it started by cleaning up the area. Several of the cities largest companies had donated money towards the project and several organizations had donated their time including several school, Claremont being one of them. As part of you Social Responsibility class you’ve all been bused in to spend the morning cleaning up trash, not the most exciting of events but at least it get’s you out of the classroom.
  19. So, as it stands now there are going to be two threads coming up. One starting sooner. 1. Campout/Social thread/adventure in your mind! Errant attempts to have a bit of socially stuff with friends, and 'friends', and classmates, because... they tell him it is a wise thing to do. And then he accidentally imbibes hallucinogenic mushrooms... Oooooooo! Characters Involved: Errant, open. 2. Errant gets kidnapped by a nemesis, and is getting turned into a telepathic living weapon. His friends have to save him. This is set during during Thanksgiving, or in the chaos post Incursion resolution/new year what not.. Characters involved: Arrowhawk, Glamazon, Thoughspeed, Blod, (room for 1 or 2 more?)
  20. Since you've been approached, in secret, only a few months ago you’ve all been training to become the newest version of Claremont’s own super team the Next-Gen. The seven of you have been training to operate as both a full team and as two smaller teams imaginatively called Team-A and Team-B. And now both teams have been assigned their own mission. Team-B Moffat Morphology Headquarters, Hanover 10:00 Wednesday 2nd July 2014 Moffat Morphology is one of those companies that seems to exist mostly in Freedom City. Using a combination of advanced polymers and nanotechnology they have developed technology that allow creation almost any tool imaginary with only simple computer control. Recently however there have been several baffling breakins of other hi-tech companies where the only evidence left on the scene was a polymer similar to that developed by Moffat’s. Helpfully the company is proud to offer tours of it’s facilities for budding young students so you’ve been assigned to investigate to find out if the company is in anyway involved in these robberies. Next-Gen isn’t the only one investigating this company for possible criminal activity. In one of those strange coincidences Alexandria Watson, aka Somnium, is also investigating the company after a half remembered mention of possible dubious activities connected to her families collapsed criminal empire. Detail are hazy beyond the simple mention of there name, it could be nothing... A small group of students, including yourselves, are gathered in the lobby of the company where you are met by a rather keen young woman in a sharp business suit, her red hair done up in severe bun. “Hello there and welcome to Moffat Morphology. I’m Gillian and I’ll be your guide to today’s trip. If you’d just like to follow me...â€
  21. June 19, 2014  Waterfront, Freedom City   The evening patrol for the three young heroes had gone well - very well indeed. They were all on the rooftop of a closed fish market, watching down below as a small group of gangsters smoked cigarettes, cursed, and waited for their rendezvous. Word on the street was that a big player, maybe even a Crime League member, was going to arrive on the docks tonight to meet with the triad leaders below to discuss an upcoming deal - that meant that a savvy trio of young crime fighters could potentially catch some big fish tonight. Of course, that assumed everyone was going to show up.    It was a warm evening, at least by the standards of a New Jersey summer, with a warm breeze blowing in from the sea that made the air humid and slick against spandex uniforms. In their suits and ties below, the triad men didn't seem very happy either - one older man with a short white beard kept looking at his watch, while another with a shaved head was reassuring the others in a voice loud enough to carry up to the roof that "He'll be on time, don't worry, don't worry!", something that he seemed to find quite amusing. It wasn't a normal patrol, that was for sure; the air seemed pregnant with anticipation as dark clouds billowed in the eastern sky, as if a real storm was coming. Of course, if that happened their targets just might get back in their sports cars and head home. 
  22. November 20th, 8:56PM, the Waterfront. On a boat. Errant had his legs wrapped around the head and neck of the guy, his hands gripping at the weapon smuggler's arm sharply as he tried to keep the triangle choke going. His teeth gritted under his mask the larger man slammed him against the side of the cabin. He managed to retain his grip, just. 'I can't get the other ones right now, I am a bit busy at the moment.' Trying to bit back the pain as this was happening, they were in two separate sections of the boat, and both had their hands full, he had under estimated the man's strength was paying for it with a ringing headache from being swung about 'If you would just be patient I am doing the best I can.' Of course this was little comfort for Glamazon, as this had been initial little social outing with some others, only for Errant slip away from the group to go after these smugglers. Which was why he had agreed as he had some intel on them being there. And Thaelia, sense action, have been very, very persuasive with the stoic telepath. Not that she knew of the impact she had on him, able to obliterate his normal dry, dispassionate manner of speak into a rambling trail and a noncommittal shrug.
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