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  1. Even as the tension left by the HATERS gathering in Liberty Park slowly died down, for the time being, at least, and the heroes of Freedom City were all going about their daily lives and stopping threats to innocent people as they came, another event was already being set up. Ads were placed on what seemed to be every single bus stop and lamppost in the city, with each one having phone number tear-off tags for people to take. If one were to take the time to read one of the ads, it would read, in a psychedelic font... We are living in a New Age of Gods and Monsters! So are you prepared to be enlightened on the divinity of the superhuman? If so, the Super Freaks and Pinnacle Path invite you to hear the message of the Creator and reconnect with the self and nature in a gathering that will be as far out as Nirvana itself! All people are welcome, regardless of whether or not you have powers! We will also be answering any questions you might have, so ask away! We will also be recruiting, for any who are interested in joining us! Notable guests will include the famous hero the Third Eye and our newest addition to the collective serving the Creator's will, the Hypno-Hippie. Admission is only $4 for adults 18 and up, $2 for children 4-17, and completely free of charge for children 3 and under. All proceeds will go directly to Greenpeace. Saturday, May the 12th at 1:00 PM at Liberty Park in Freedom City, New Jersey There will be music, too Free food and alcohol will be provided Call 555-108-SUPER for more information, or take a tear-off below As the days passed, tents, as well as a small stage, complete with speakers and a microphone, were all being set up. Rumors as to just what this "message" of these "Super Freaks" was were all over the place, and concerns that this might be the beginning of a violent cult, but since this was a charity event, and actual agents from the Greenpeace fund came by and confirmed their connections to this event, the Freedom City government let it pass. Comrade Frost, Thoughtspeed, and the third Scarab, as well as typical guards, had all been hired by the city government as security detail, to keep an eye on not only this Super Freaks religious movement and see what they make of it, but also to make sure the event goes as smoothly as possible, as the agents of Freedom City's government who hired them to do so realized that some people might not take too kindly to the idea of superpowered beings being worshipped as gods. Which leads us to the day of the actual gathering. May 12th, 2018 12:20 PM Liberty Park Grand Lawn Like the lovechild of Woodstock and an outdoor religious sermon, the lush, green fields were dotted with folding tents whose canopies had a tie-dye design on them, folding tables underneath them filled with fruits, vegetables, alcohol, but no meat. The stage overlooking it all had the Super Freaks logo and font on its background, and immediately preceding the stage, rows and of folding chairs were arranged in a very neat, orderly fashion, with a few spaces in between each section so people could get in and find their own chairs. Quite a few of the seats had been filled already. Several visitors had blatant mutations or "tells" that marked them as Terminus babies, mutants, magical beings, or what have you, though most of them were outwardly human. It is apparent that visitors from all ages and walks of life were anything from curious, to hopeful, to apprehensive, to something else entirely depending on the person you asked, as to just what this message of "the divinity of the superhuman" even was. The city had seen its fair share of self-styled gods with superpowers, as well as actual divine beings, more than a few of them supervillains and superheroes, so some people didn't know what to expect. In this town, you had to be prepared for anything. Even so, no one has actually started anything disruptive, yet at least. Many of them are currently waiting patiently, or perhaps impatiently, for the speakers to show themselves and make this whole thing worth their while. The entire event was fenced off, like a concert, from the rest of the park, though several openings in the fences were there, for some members of the staff to take admission money as more and more people waited in line to get in. The staff in question would be by far the most eye-catching of them all. Identified by their stereotypical hippie clothing, these were apparently members of the Super Freaks association, and some of them had blatant outward differences from the normal human form as well, like how one had butterfly wings, and how another looked like a giant horned humanoid tiger. Many of them were catering, setting up equipment, handing out flyers and schedules, or playing music on their instruments to entertain some of the bored children. With forty minutes until the start of the actual sermon, the heroes have some time to kill...
  2. Summer 2018 It's a fine summer evening in 2018, and three young superheroes are out doing their thing. When suddenly, wherever they are, they're not alone. Comparing notes later, this is all happening simultaneously on one exciting Thursday night, but of course none of them know this at the time. That simultaneity is quite a feat, given that it's the same guy talking to all four of them, even though it doesn't look it at the time. "Start again. Right," the guy in the Egyptian headdress and linen skirt continues as he appears behind Thoughtspeed. "I don't have much time, so let's make it brief." The guy with the calaca face paint and black body suit continues as he speaks to Grim, "I am Yves Norris. I'm from your future. Well, one of your futures, but let's not go into that just at the moment. We don't have the time. Well, you do, but I don't." The guy in what Sīxiǎng is pretty sure is a WWII-era Nationalist army uniform goes on, "My energy supplies are limited, and you must be aware that time travel uses energy exponentially proportional to duration and distance. Basic application of Jodi's Law. Not that you would know about Jodi, because she hasn't been born yet, which is why I'm here. This may not make much sense to you, I suppose." The guy in the Santa Claus costume blinked, studied Zenith, then said "Wait, this is the wrong costume for this time of year, isn't it? Sorry! But really - there's no time to fix it now..."
  3. GM ASTRO Labs Downtown, Freedom City, NJFriday, October 28th, 2016 11:00 PM There were many sounds one didn't want to hear in Freedom City's illustrious tech sector. Explosions could signify a castrophic event, or even the game changing creation of a new powered player in town. Screams and wails often followed a tear in the natural laws of the universe. Then there was of course H. Gordon Willicker's crickety knee. A sound that would be inevitably be followed with a ten minute description of the current pains that plagued his body. In graphic detail. But, the worst sound? Absolute silence. Just after the silence alarm was tripped in the world renowned ASTRO Labs facility, not a peep could be heard. Or seen for that matter. The patrol cars had yet to arrive on the scene, but news was quickly spreading throughout social media. Something weird was happening in ASTRO Labs...
  4. GM Norris Atoll Lonely Point, Freedom City New Jersey Wednesday, February 1st, 2017 5:17 PM Norris Atoll was a pseudo atoll formed by the three islands South of the Lonely point Naval Base. Far from an island resort like Bermuda, the islands were just as desolate as the mainland. Which made the territory an easy concession when the United States agreed to a formal concession of land for an Atlantean Embassy on the Atlantic. King Theseus reached out to the architect behind the construction of the Freedom Aquarium who oversaw the construction of the structure. Essentially it was designed a self-contained deep sea resort, using the Aquarium's iceberg like design in which a majority of the property was actually beneath the surface. Visitors would be allowed to stay for as long as they so choose as long as a security concern does not arise. Allowing for the education of Atlantean culture in a way far removed from the offensive Atlantis Casino. The Ocean Factory at the bottom was closed off from surface world access. Only subcontractors and official delegates would be allowed access with a residence designed for use for any Atlanteans that would choose to use the facility. The fact that Atlantean hostilities with the surface (and the location being so near a surface world military installation) made it unlikely that anyone other than the Atlantean Ambassador would choose to actually use it. News outlets approached the entrance on a cargo ship. The grand unveiling was to be broadcast throughout the country. Including from within a Waterfront Russian bar where two heroines were currently enjoying a meal. Or the much quieter apartment belonging to Jessie White and Aquaria Innsmouth. William Cline, or Thoughtspeed as he was currently dressed, had a much closer look of the festivities. Having been personally invited by Princess Thaelia, as the only one of her friends not currently out of the city. With the possible exception of Elias, who she could never keep track of. Thoughtspeed found himself sitting in a room, with a view of the approaching vessel, accompanied by the Atlantean royal family minus King Theseus himself. An armed escort posted throughout, perhaps too armed for a guided tour.
  5. Content Warning: Cussing June 18, 2017 5:35AM Bedlam City, Wisconsin Fast-Forward skidded to a halt in the middle of Hardwick Park. Not bothering to take off his helmet, he looked around wildly before declaring "...what the hell?!" 5:37AM Chicago, Illinois Millennium Park Fast-Forward stared up at the statue of the Barnstormers, ignoring the few flatscans in the park this early. "WHAT THE HELL!?" This time he did take off his helmet, never mind the risk when he was away from home, and cast out with his psychic connection to his wife - finding her in Freedom City of all places? She'd probably felt that but she was just waking up - and he didn't have time for her to catch up with him. "Come on, man, wakeupwakeupwakeup-" He ran in a little circle, hitting himself on the side of the head, using the psychic feedback Paige had taught him to break out of an illusion. Nothing. Motherfucker! Finally deciding it was worth the risk, he put his helmet back on and girded his loins for the run into Freedom City. 5:38AM Freedom City In front of the Cline household Staring up at flatscan suburban hell for a long moment, Richard Cline took off his helmet in honest bafflement - and decided to leave it off since whatever was happening had evidently happened right through the helmet's psionic bafflers. He tried the door, found it locked, and banged on it - surprised when what looked like mundane wood didn't immediately shatter under his fist. "Hey!" he called, both out loud and psychically, hot anger and bafflement turning to fear loud in both voices, a second before winding up for a blow that would have knocked a regular door out of his hinges entirely. "What the hell is going on!?"
  6. April 30, 2017 Freedom City Riverside Park 7PM It was a quiet enough afternoon for the Cline family, or at least one part of it. Richard Cline had always been an involved father (sometimes to Holly and Will's frustration) but he'd made a special point to step in and get involved in their lives after they'd all brought home baby Bryant Cline. Paige hadn't actually objected to adopting his infant father rather than see him put into the foster system - but he also knew her well enough after decades together to know what it meant for her to open their home like that. So he'd made a special point to be the father to Bryant that Bryant had never been to him, and if it was all strange and dysfunctional, well their family had always been that at least a little bit and they'd gotten through all right. Tonight, the day before the big May 1 charity Race for the Cure that he and Will had entered along with some other Freedom City heroes, he and his kids were sitting around a picnic table in Riverside Park, waiting for their fellow racers to arrive. Holly had Bryant out from his carrier and had laid him on his stomach on a blanket on the ground - but he wasn't staying there! Now a chubby nine-month-old full of energy, the bald-headed tot kept 'dashing' his way off the blanket, clutching his lovey in one hand and pulling himself along with the other arm and both his knees. <Go Bryant!> thought Holly, snapping some pictures with the new phone that had been her recent twelfth birthday present. <No more babies in chains!>
  7. GM 12:45 PM. April 4th Judge Harold (call me Harry) Steinman, was walking amongst the throngs of people that were making their way across the street. It was lunch, and currently he was without a security detail, while a lower circuit federal court judge, he dealt mostly with white collar crime. Though a couple years ago he had been involved as an ADA out of Boston involved with investigations of several organized crime families. As of right now that wasn't what he was working over, he was debating whether he should be trying to vy for a position further up the judicial latter. However, those previous affairs were the things that were not forgotten, they cast a shadow over his way that he didn't know was there. He stopped still in his step midway through the street. And he started to say something, or tried to, words failed, they came out wrong, a hand reaching out and groping towards people. Before he fell forward, his head hitting the broad white walk lane, as his body twisted and spasmed. Before he lost coherence there was a small confirmation amidst the fading synapses as to why this was happening, and who was behind it. Onlookers rushed towards him, assuming correctly that something was wrong. When the ambulance arrived Judge Harold Steinman was dead. It would be labelled a stroke. 1:37 AM April 8th The scream would wake them, four people across town, and immediately recognize it for what it was. Either from an earlier scream, or weeks that bled to what felt like months of people inside other's heads. It was a personal sound of pain that was still raw to Paige. They all could identify it. It gave a location. A currently unused section of a high rise building in the city center. Not terribly far from the Federal building. The worst part was the sense of the presence of the mind trailing off into digitized incoherence like white noise and static when a signal goes out. A feeling some might recognize as the sublimation of identity. Possibly even the death of personality.
  8. 09/11/2016 12:35 PM The Boardwalk Freedom City It really does say something about Freedom City that the men and women on the Boardwalk weren't overly concerned by the sudden sound of speeding cars. The echo of revving engines up and down the long wooden walks. The squealing of rubber tires. Oh, I grant you, the majority of the citizens present still dove for safety when a trio of multicolored sports cars came screaming past, but they didn't let it end their perfectly nice shopping day on Freedom City's famous Boardwalk. The call had come in a few hours before - an 'anonymous tip' from a 'concerned citizen'. Five cars, complete with descriptions of license plates, would be stolen from the parking lot of one of the most expensive hotels in Freedom City. Cars worth millions - tens, if not hundreds of millions - in value. One, even belonging to a noted diplomat visiting from the Middle East. Thanks to the vigilant efforts of the FCPD, two had been stopped at the lot - one by catching the thief in the hotel bar's washroom (attempting to flush a shoe down the toilet?), and the other just before he'd jacked the door. It was the remaining three that were giving the FCPD headaches trying to catch. The first was a Lamborghini (because of course one was a Lamborghini) - it tore down one of the Boardwalk's straightaways, managing to take the lead for a few minutes - skidding around a corner on two wheels. Black, with red neon underlights; she belonged to a notable reality star who was currently screaming at one of the police officers in the hotel parking lot about how she'd sue the pants off anyone who so much as scratched it. The second, riding right on it's tail, was a lovely Ferrari. Cherry-red, of course, and belonging to a pleasantly tubby multi-millionaire internet tycoon; producer of the notable Irate Fowl knockoff of a popular video game series. He wasn't threatening to sue the pants off whoever scratched it, he was more threatening to ruin their credit scores. Yeah, he was one of those people. Bit late for it, either way - the thief behind the wheel wasn't that subtle about ploughing through a souvenir stand, and a Centurion shirt was currently flying like a flag off the back spoiler. And the last...oh, the last. Neon yellow Bugatti Veyron. This was the diplomat's vehicle. Import, with diplomatic plates, and who knew what in the glove compartment. This one was steadily remaining in the middle of the pack, the driver the most conservative of the three. Not to say he wasn't a point of concern - he'd escaped the parking lot by ramping off an asphalt pile and flying over the retaining wall. Credit where it was due, however, the gentleman in the turban who owned the car hadn't stated any threats or made any violent statements of intent if his car was damaged. He didn't really have to - savvy? Either way, under the circumstances - made sense when multiple networks monitored by heroes of the city started screaming blue murder begging for help before someone got killed, eh? Let's see who answered the call and why!
  9. August 1, 2016 Port Regal The Cline Residence Waiting had been the hardest part. The cancer, slowly eating away at the elderly Bryant Haliday, occasional moments of lucidity amid pain and fatigue. For the decades they'd spent apart, this last gasp of mortality had swept all the Clines together for the last few months of Bryant Haliday's life. Even Anna Cline, who'd spent fifty years angry at the man who had impregnated her, abandoned her, and then escaped into madness, had reconciled with Bryant at the end. She was with him on the last night, a night when Richard, Paige, and Will were home in bed with their memories. When the house phone rang, Richard and Paige woke up almost simultaneously. Richard rolled over and picked it up, guessing correctly who was on the line - and why she was calling. He reached over and squeezed Paige's hand as he heard his mother's voice - but she felt confusion from him like a backwash of the growing wave of grief, the two emotions mixing together. "He...what? Ma, you're not making sense, what-" He hung up the phone, blinking back sleep, and rolled out of bed for his clothes. "Something happened there, with Bryant. I gotta go."
  10. For here. And FF has done a take 20 on his Search check for the whole city. Popping him out of the thread for about ten minutes in game.
  11. So, as stated elsewhere, I'm working on coming back to the forums/the game (IT'S ALL ABOUT THE GAME....AND HOW YOU PLAY IT!!!!). And my top priorities are Thoughtspeed (sheet here) and Nevermore (sheet here). But complicating matters is the news that we've shifted how rewards are done? And now the highest reward is applied to all characters, if desired? I'm still a bit fuzzy on how it works...Gabriel is my highest-reward/"level" character. I believe he was at Gold or Platinum when I went inactive (sheet says progress to Impervium...). So I'm not sure what that means for TS and NM? I guess this thread has 2 purposes. 1.) Help me understand how the Reward Level interacts with these 2 characters in particular, especially in light of me likely not bringing Gabriel back for a bit yet (not saying he's permanently retired, though). 2.) Help/insights/suggestions on breathing a bit of life into both sheets (without completely remaking them). Both characters have been given some time to go off and train and grow and such. So I've got room for some work there. Thoughtspeed is probably okay mostly as-is, I'm sure when I get to actually looking at him I'll tweak him, but still. Nevermore, though, is a bit more complicated. I've got a vague idea of what to get him to eventually. I know what he drives now, will drive, will fly, and where he does/will take roost. Ultimately, this guy will be Raven 3/4 (depending on how we count Geckoman!Raven. But he's not there yet, and I want to preserve that while maybe giving him a bit more to work with. I'm not trying to make other people do all the work (obviously the fluffy stuff is done, and any "but where has he been!" can be answered easily enough, especially as with Nevermore it could just be said "watching. waiting. planning." without too much irony). As a note, Thoughtspeed's going to be graduating this May, but Nevermore won't graduate until next year.
  12. 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."
  13. March 7, 2015  WYRM's move to the DeWitt Building had gone well. The new suburban location put the kids in a safe, secure location where they wouldn't be tempted by anything unwholesome in the neighborhood. The nearest restaurant was the Subway across the street, next to the big medical complex, and they were a good twenty-minute walk from the nearest bus station (faster if you had superpowers, of course). The worst trouble they could get into was the tobacco store in the strip mall down at the very end of the street, right where Ashton became unincorporated territory. But the kids were well-supervised - and the old hippie who ran the place knew to keep an eye out for them.    WYRM had stayed busy over the last few months, pitching in to help out during the Communion invasion and other crises around Freedom City, doing the subtle work that made sure many of the civilians around the city noticed them and their good efforts, even if they still weren't on the radar of most super-teams yet. "That's okay," the kids were always reassured, "we're doing this work to set the world up for great things - not to make ourselves famous." It was a little frustrating the more glory-minded among them, but they all knew they had bright futures ahead of them.    On the morning of March 7, Rampart was out patrolling in the area when the special WYRM communicator they'd given her during her last happy visit chimed. Something was going on that required her special services. 
  14. Tuesday, June 3rd, 2013 Freedom City, New Jersey Lunchtime Rachel Coletta had chosen to take her lunch on the outside deck of Stan's Super Heroes, enjoying the warm weather now that it had come to Freedom City. She wasn’t particularly happy with her next assignment, covering a battle-of-the-bands style concert that was full of glorified cover bands. She knew that as the cub she would get all the stories no one else wanted, but it didn’t mean she was happy about it. To take her mind off things, she was indulging in a couple of her favorite vices; a big meal and people-watching with malicious intent. It was almost comical to see the small woman pick up the Atlas And All and try to fit a single bite into her mouth, but Rachel’s attention was more focused on the people walking around her. A woman in a trendy dress, swinging a bag from a Freedom City fashion house crossed the street; Rachel imagined that she was a secret shopper for a competing Los Angeles brand, scoping out the competition. She let her imagination run wild as she devoured the burger, and all too soon she realized her plate was empty. Rachel was pondering a cup of soup or salad to go when a piercing scream rose above the streets. She covered her ears, along with everyone else, but it didn’t seem to help; the scream deepened to a rumble in her gut, and centered itself high in the sky. She looked up, and saw a blazing something move rapidly towards the western horizon. It seemed to pass directly overhead, with a noise that set off car alarms and rattled windows, before disappearing over the horizon. The reporter left money pinned under her plate and dashed towards an alleyway, taking advantage of the confusion and found a dark corner. Her over-large purse opened and a form-fitting purple-and-orange costume floated out; Rachel’s hair shivered snake-like as it unwound from its long braid, and her clothes and her costume proceeded in opposite directions. In moments, Maelstrom rose from the alleyway, cape and hair floating behind her on the breeze and in the wake of her power. She made sure her purse was well-locked and stashed it on a rooftop, then headed north, towards the river. She meant to investigate whatever that was, but first she had to pick up someone. Nathaniel! Did you just hear that?
  15. GM Private Plane en route to New Freedom (Half an hour away) Saturday, June 07, 2014 6:18 PM Even before the school year ended, rumors had been flowing around the Claremont campus that Headmaster Summers had been growing increasingly sour. A few students had even mentioned seeing him speaking less than cordially with a woman inside of his office. But as all the rumors related to Headmaster Summers the truth was shrouded in mystery. Then the volunteer forms appeared inside of the dorm rooms, of a select number of the student body. Giving students the opportunity to represent their school in an interschool competition. With the reward for participation being quote as field experience, extra credit [pre-emptively guaranteed for any who would be graduating before the summer came], and a free vacation. The catch? The opposing school was New Freedom's Academy for Exemplary Individuals. Getting students excited to visit New Freedom was no easy endeavor. It was made clear to those whom had been sent the invites that ultimately no one was forced to volunteer. Five students were ultimately picked from those that expressed their interest. Devin Yeager, or Coach as he expressedly wished to be called, was the only member of the faculty whom had chosen to accompany the student competitors. Not counting Headmaster Summers of course. Once the agreed upon came to pass the Claremont students were taken to a private jet in the middle of the evening so as to arrive at their destination in style.
  16. GM Post 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-A Riverside Park 13:20 Wednesday 2nd July 2014 Whilst Team-B seem to have been sent of what you assume is a wild adventure you’ve been assigned a much more mundane task. You’ve have been asked to investigate sporadic signals of alien origin that have been detected emanating from the park over the last couple of day. It could be nothing but things are still a little jittery after the events of last years, that even managed to affect Claremont itself...
  17.   Freedom City April 2014 The Crime Lab (Remote Site)    Richard Cline was not one for advanced planning most of the time, but then again most of the time he wasn't going back to dinosaur times. "All right, the advance team has been on the island for almost a week, and they haven't run into anything larger than a Great Dane, so I think we'll be all right." He let one of the techs pop a USB into the computer's port (something he had deliberately notmastered), playing what looked like an iMovie recording of a mostly-deserted tropical island, complete with birds in the air and animals on the beach - until the viewer saw the teeth and scales on the feathered fliers overhead, or realized that those weren't dogs fighting over the washed-up fish on the beach. The island looked to be in the center of a small bay, with low hills and a river visible on the opposite coast a few miles away.    "They're almost exactly at the site of Chicxulub, good good. We're lucky that island was there, the ultralights they sent out said it's all swampy marsh on the mainland." Fred Tanzin, the second unit director for Supercrime!, focused on the special guests. "We'll do some footage of you for the promos, either here in the studio once you come back or while you're in the field. We're still on for filming all the way from the 22nd through the 25th, local time. I know you've had a chance to read our briefing packet and be introduced to the on-air talent - but do you have any questions I can answer for you about the show?" 
  18. Ari


    GM J.P. Morgan & Chase Bank, Mcullough-Adams, Bayview, Freedom City July 2nd, Wednesday, 2.45 PM, 2014 The day had begun like most others on a summer day on the American east coast. For Freedom City it had been even more mundane than usual, everything that made the city such a dazzling gem of multi-faceted weirdness lying low as the sun beat down. As the day had veered into afternoon, hopes had slowly strengthened that maybe today, today nothing would happen. The bank tellers at Bayview's biggest Chase branch had begun to relax, smiling in relief as the hours ticked down to closing. They were cheerfully helping the last trickles of patrons before the big late-afternoon rush, chatting idly with each other when the burning men crashed through the roof, landing on the floor in a stream of flaming wreckage. One, covered in something like an astronaut's ">suit but red and emblazoned with a yellow lizard on the shoulders and chest, pointed a square black thing vaguely shaped like a gun at the tellers. "Out." his voice was soft as it crackled over a radio, but icily compelling "Now." "You heard him, gents!" sang out another of the gang, similarly-suited but weaponless save for a flickering heatwave around her "That insurance money won't steal itself! And we don't wanna hurt you, but-" a wave of heat slammed into one of the steel walls as she gestured carelessly with a hand, melting a hole clean through it "-we sure won't cry if we have to!" The other two were silent, the stocky one in a black suit opening their helmet to release a cloud of smoke that drifted up to the ceiling, starting the fire alarms' screaming wail. The last, a spindly figure in vivid yellow, snapped their fingers. To the terrified eyes of the tellers, guards, and patrons, flames seemed to leap from the floor, heading straight for them! From outside things weren't much better. A comet seemed to flash out of the sky and hit the bank, the fire alarms went off and the people inside came charging out, screaming and frantically beating at themselves. It was the kind of sight that made every nearby Freedonian look reflexively up at the sky, and wonder why, just why it always happened here...
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