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Found 10 results

  1. HGM

    A Legacy of Crime

    GM The Hunter Museum of Natural History Midtown, Freedom City, New JerseyThursday, December 21st, 2017 1:30 AM Shortly after midnight a roving guard in the the Hunter Museum of Natural history discovered that the World Wart II exhibit had been broken into. Despite the building's nineteenth century roots, its security system was as modern as it came. Which made the fact that the crime occurred without so much as a blip on any of its systems all the more questionable. What made matters worse what that no one on site could identify what was stolen, the criminal having completely erased the listed contents in the museum's possession (signifying an arduous period of work ahead for its curator). Police officers had cordoned off the building as they prepared to conduct their investigation. A decision that both Trevor Hunter and Erick Sloane managed to overhear with their computer's access to the FCPD police feeds. For both parties, it was the first they had even heard of the robbery. The thief( or thieves) managing to avoid even their notice, despite Foreshadow's precognitive abilities or Mignight having direct access to the National History museum's security feed.
  2. Electra

    Midnight Elegy

    Monday, April 13, 2015 10:30 AM Earth It was a Monday morning when Erin made it back to Earth, nearly six full weeks after she'd taken off for her first space adventure since her Curator-enforced vacation. She blasted in out of a clear blue sky, her life-support suit holding in both her oxygen supply and her wildly triumphant shout as she and Redbird made their re-entry at white-hot speeds. As soon as they dropped enough altitude for there to be atmosphere, she pulled off her helmet and drew in a deep lungful of air. "God, it's so good to be home!" she crowed. "Space is nuts. Let's leave it to the aliens for awhile," she suggested to her AI companion as they arced towards the familiar skyline of Freedom City. She was half-tempted to dive off the motorcycle at twenty-thousand feet and splash down in the Great Bay, wash away the grime of a month and a half without a proper water bath. Sonic cleaners did an adequate job of keeping dirt and smell at bay, but she never truly felt clean after using one. That would wait, though. Instead, she steered the motorcycle northward, towards home. "I guess maybe we should've called ahead," she decided. "He'll probably be in school at this hour. But that just means we can surprise him when he gets back." In just a few minutes they were touching down on the smooth paved roundabout in front of Hunter Manor, which was currently picturesque with a full spread of carefully tended flowerbeds and green lawn. Erin took another moment to enjoy solid Earth beneath her feet, then vaulted the front steps to go in the front door. "Hello, I'm home!"
  3. Gizmo

    Midnight Dynasty

    February 14, 2014 Trevor Hunter lifted his girlfriend's feet with one hand to make room for himself on the loveseat before replacing them over his lap and handing her the steaming mug of hot chocolate he'd brought over from the adjacent kitchenette. In a fit of theater that went above his usually limited talent for food preparation he'd drizzled a swirl of melted dark chocolate around the whipped cream topping, taking advantage of the prodigious amount of confection they'd gathered in preparation for the four day long weekend they'd carved out for themselves. The room they'd settled into for the late afternoon was one of the less used in his family's manor, the short couch and the rest of the furniture looking like it had last been replaced sometime in the 1970s but it was the only room on the second floor with a fireplace, crackling away pleasantly now, and it had an extra touch of privacy compared to the larger rooms of the ground level. A cart that looked suspiciously like it might have been repurposed from carrying trays of beakers had been laden with a bountiful selection of fresh fruits and picnic foods while the side table that supported his own mug of black coffee also featured what had certainly been chemistry equipment before beginning a new career as a chocolate fondue pot. With a silent, happy sigh, Trevor settled in and lifted his cup to take a slow sip. It was nice to just have some quiet time with Erin for once, without some impending crisis hanging over their heads.
  4. Gizmo


    Trevor Hunter was very good at doing things for very good reasons. A personal moral code that allowed for no compromise and a keen, analytical mind meant that very few of his actions were left to chance, the end result always kept in mind. As such he had a number of excellent arguments for asking Erin White to move into the mansion to which he was heir. She'd stayed at the manor for a time after they'd moved out of the Claremont dormitories and the arrangement had proved agreeable. Even one of the bedrooms would very nearly afford more room than the entire apartment she was staying in currently, to say nothing of the other facilities. Being closer to the hidden headquarters secreted under the foundation would likely prove useful in their shared work as members of the Liberty League. Ultimately, however, honestly compelled him to admit privately that the core reason was that he really wanted to. That note of emotion over logic had the young, dark-haried man pacing nervously across the lobby in a most uncharacteristic display as he waited for Erin to arrive.
  5. July 4th, 2012 5:32 PM Joe Macayle stepped off the bus, feeling a bit out of his element amongst the swirling labyrinth of classical mansions. He'd been here quite a few times before, but usually at night and usually with an eye towards the back entrance. But standing before the gates of the Hunter Estate, in broad daylight, he really wondered if this was his place. Usually he didn't give a crap about things like this, but somehow, the invite had stirred up some lingering traces of self-consciousness. He'd come fairly dressed down - a fairly simple tee, jeans, and Docs, even leaving the braces at home in favor of a belt - carrying a cooler full of burgers in one hand and another full of ribs in the other. And yet, somehow, he found himself standing at the gate, wondering if he should turn back, get some better clothes or something. He shook his head. What the hell, he said. They've taken me as I am so far. With that, he rang the buzzer. "I'm here," he said into the intercom. "Don't know if I'm early or not..."
  6. 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."
  7. 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...
  8. 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."
  9. 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.
  10. As the sun began creeping over the horizon, Trevor Hunter was balanced on the gymnastic equipment on the Claremont campus, one booted foot perched on a balance beam while the other hovered in the air. His shirt hung nearby on a sawhorse next to an empty mug and his fedora as he remained perfectly still for a long moment before abruptly swinging down so that he was hanging upside down on by the same foot, hands shooting forward to grasp the next bean and vault him into an aerial somersault. Inwardly, he kept his mind studiously blank, concentrating solely on the exercise, the sheer physicality helping him achieve a crystalline clarity.
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