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Found 6 results

  1. March 20, 2015 It wasn't that Erik Espadas was expecting trouble, not really, but he subscribed to the idea that it paid to be the one carrying the biggest stick. Or to be friends with the people carrying the biggest sticks, anyway. When they'd worked out the rough schedule for Min's pregnancy nobody had been particularly surprised to find her due date landed on the vernal equinox. After the unexpected 'visit' by his extended family in the House of Swords for the birth of his first daughter, though, a whole different sort of planning had seemed in order this time around, just to be saf
  2. 15th April 2005 "So are you sure this is the place?" said the young woman, looking skeptically at the building in front of them. It hardly seemed the place to go for a biology consult. Hell, it looked like an apartment building. The man beside her checked his email on his smartphone. "Yuuup. Sharl said it was here. Something about a fake front to the building" After they'd got in contact during the problem with the Communion, Geckoman and Sharl had stayed loosely in contact. Being a member of Young Freedom was, while really only a big deal during school, still a thing. They'd all presumably c
  3. A pair of Masks in civilian guise casually strode through the doors of HAX's Hanover headquarters, each with a small arsenal on their person. The male was a tired-looking twentysomething, with a couple of day's stubble and a mop of sandy brown hair hanging to the nape of his neck. He wore a loose, baggy black coat over a thick sweater and cargo pants. Beneath them, he wore a belt with a small arsenal of shuriken, a collapsible four foot long taser, and a handful of more advanced items. The female was slightly shorter and less disheveled looking, dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. She wore a
  4. After long years of negotiations, UtiliTek, a proud subsidiary of the Grant Conglomerates, had been granted permission to bring Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, the legendary Grasscutter, from Japan to the United States for analysis in their Freedom City-based facilities. Part of the Imperial Regalia, the longsword had surfaced a handful of times in more recent history as the focus of various supervillainous plans and at least once as the instrument by which a particularly close near-apocalypse had been averted. It's impossibly shard edge had garnered it a reputation as perhaps the finest example of its k
  5. And then the kids were elsewhere. They were gone from the false reflection of Freedom Hall, standing instead on the lawn of the Lucas family house, standing among the rubble of the battlefield that had killed Mark just a few hours earlier. Except he was alive, standing there amid the group of teens, and Rick and a shell-shocked looking Martha were standing there just a few yards away. "Dad!" Mark broke from the crowd and ran to his father, just as Martha called her husband's name and ran to him. But even as they did so, the teens saw the black, inky shapes beginning to break away from Rick,
  6. A wall of black, whirling dots of ink exploded over everything, battering through James' dimensional barrier an instant after sweeping away the whole world around it. And then... - James Prophet woke up to the gentle beeping of his compu-alarm, the whirring of his electro-bed a gentle reminder of the very pleasant way he'd fallen asleep. He sat up wearily, listening to the hum of the stabilizers that kept his flying saucer in orbit of Earth. Rising to his feet, he caught sight of his face in a reflective surface of polished metal and paused. Wasn't that right? He was Hell-Ion, the half-blo
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