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A Poor Choice with the Euripedes


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It's about a half-hour before tonight's play at the Hellmann Odeum is scheduled to begin. Drama students from Freedom College, Freedom City University, and even a few from Hanover Institute of Technology have been working over the entire spring semester to prepare a set of plays to be held over the summer. Because they're still students (and not getting paid), ticket prices are much lower than usual, and many people who otherwise wouldn't get a chance to visit one of Freedom City's premier theatrical venues are able to come.

Throughout the month of June, the students have been doing classical plays by the Greek playwright Euripides. The first week of the month had Heracleidae followed by Heracles, and the second week was Cyclops, a satyr play. This week's play is Medea.

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Down on the crowded street, an old man slowly follows a small, bustling young family as they make their way into the theater. His youngest son, Mark, the only child of his third marriage, teaches set design in Freedom College's drama department and he's brought along both his two kids Billy and Mandy and his father to see his students perform.

Billy and Mandy are still young enough to appreciate their grandpa, and eight year old Billy runs back to Fred as he makes his way through the crowd. "C'mon, grandpa! Daddy says we're gonna be late!"

"Your papa kin..." Fred definitely doesn't want to say a bad word around the grandkids. His relationship with his children isn't perfect, maybe because of all his divorce and remarriages, and he doesn't want to alienate them now that he's in his golden years. "Wait for us just a minute." He eventually makes his way to the rest of the Fawcett family, just in time to wait in line at the box office.

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Unknown to Fawcett, he isn't the only one getting ready to see the play. Cloaked behind a glamer of an ravishing young woman with short auburn hair, Medea flirts with the ticket attendent as she stands in line. He blushes from the attention, and nearly forgets to ask her for her money before he hands her the ticket. Her face grows stormy, but she decides that his earlier worship was enough. After all - she isn't hurting for money, and she did come here to see the show. She pulls out a 20 dollar bill from her purse and tucks it in the attendent's shirt, then strolls off, laughing.

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Ullgir patrols the streets of the city, seeking to bring justice to those who might do wrong. He is unaware of the play taking part just blocks away, his attention on other things. As he walks the street he takes note of the large number of people entering the building. Using the fire escape he takes to the roof of a building, standing with his arms crossed as he watches over the ground below, keeping vigilant for any sign of trouble or danger.

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Fred starts as he looks up, taking in the sight of the gigantic Norseman overhead. "Jehosaphat!" He almost loses his hat. "What's that, for Beowulf?"

"It's a superhero, Dad," says Mark in that tone of exasperation and indulgence that children reserve for their elderly parents. "He's some kind of super-Viking. Billy, don't do that to your sister!" Mark's wife is paying the bills for this one. "There are a lot of them in Freedom City."

"Yes, I know," says Fred testily as they head inside, grousing as only an old man can do as they file their way in to find their seats in the crowded theater. "I do know what superheroes are."

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Fred and his family are able to find seats together without too much trouble. Even in the summer, there aren't too many people who come out to see a play on Wednesday evening. As soon as they sit down, Billy has to go to the bathroom. Mark looks like he's about to ask why he didn't say anything earlier, then swallows the worthless question and leads him to the bathroom. Mandy doesn't have to go, but she gets taken along with her mother anyway just in case. Grandpa is left to hold the seats down. They come back in pairs, and Fred's daughter-in-law gets out a pad of paper and starts playing hangman with the kids while they wait.

Four minutes after the play is set to begin, the lights dim and the curtain rises. Mark can be proud - the sets look very professional. They even appear architecturally accurate for the era, a detail that only two people in the audience would probably recognize. Unfortunately, the play itself doesn't seem to measure up to the same level of quality. The woman playing Medea's elderly nurse can barely be heard, even with the microphone amplifying her voice, and Creon actually stumbles over his own costume as he comes onto the stage.


Medea sits perfectly still in her seat. Behind her glamour, she is doing a slow burn. This tragedy is becoming a comedy, and the only thing holding her back from violence is the performance of her namesake, which is a step above the other actors. She'll need help to rise above her incompetent cast, and Medea leans back and smiles. She knows what she can do to help.


From his perch atop the theather, Ullgir is the first to notice a golden force field come down, starting at the top of the building and extending around it. He's inside it, but as he tests it, he finds that he's been sealed inside. It's as solid as stone, and much stronger.

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"What manner of sorcery has brought this wall down around me?" Looking down at the ground he notices the wall completely shut out the building. His hand moves to his side, bringing his sword into the air.

"There are innocents inside of this building, those who bring no harm to that which has brought up this wall of light. I know not what this magic is for, be it good or evil intents. Thus I am torn weather I should strike at it or watch and see. Just as the Gods have watched Midgard in wait, I may too need to hold my blade. All would be lost if this were to protect and my strike broke it asunder."

Holding his sword in his hand he prepares himself to strike at the force field should something happen.

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Far below, Fred's beginning to get a little dissatisfied himself. Mark's students performed well enough, but poorly-done Greek tragedy is not his cup of tea. "I think I need to use the restroom too," he finally says, carefully making his way across the seats back to the men's bathroom. That gets him a sigh from his son, but what doesn't these days? Maybe by the second act, things will be a little more interesting.

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The golden field finishes going around the building. Beyond that, though... nothing. It seems like something wants to keep the people in the theater inside, or keep the people outside the theater outside. It's silent, and is already drawing some small amount of attention from passersby. The Norsemen can still hear them and see them (though they are tinted by the color of the energy between them). There's enough room for him to head down to the ground outside of the building, but he could also presumably smash his way in.

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The intentions of the field a mystery to him, Ullgir heads to the ground. Jumping from the rooftop to the ground below he lands with a resounding, though harmless, thud. Investigating the forcefield he extends his off hand and presses on it, testing the limits of the fields strength before looking to the ground to see if it created any visible damage to the concrete below.

"This field brings me unease, as none have come forth to claim it as a protection or a trap. I shall be on guard should one of evil step forward with some heinous plot."

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Fred swallows hard, thinking first of his son and grandkids. But he has to think of the rest of the crowd, and all those people. Though he has a sneaking suspicion who's behind this, he can't be sure, and that's enough to make him slip away into the men's bathroom again. There's no use confronting a supervillan like this, not when he's an old man. Fortunately, that problem's easy to fix.

"Shim-Ra!" There is a flash of light and a boom from the men's bathroom, one easily covered by the distraction of the spell in the theater itself...at least, for people who are _in_ the theater...

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While the flash of light and boom are far enough away from Medea that she doesn't even know that they happened, they're quite noticeable to the Norseman, interrupting his test of the force field's strength. He hadn't yet touched it when the boom went off. It seemed to be coming from the front of the theater, but he'd have to go down and inside to be certain of it.

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The Norsemans' head turns with the flash of light, his attention diverted from the force field in front of him to the disturbance behind him. His sword stands at the ready as he begins to head toward the building cautiously. It had been some time since he had the opportunity to fight what appears to be a magic user, and though his tactics in such situations may be rusty he would not let a foe with ill intent walk away with their price.

Walking up to the door of the theater his eye quickly scans the area, taking account of everything around him. Bringing down his head he walks through the door, his sword ready to strike anything that may come at him* with his own force field in place.

"Bring yourself into view, your plan shall not be fulfilled this day. I, Ullgir Wolfsbane, Champion of the Aesir and weilder of their Godly powers will strike down any who might yet stand to fight before me."

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There is a moment's pause, and then the door to the men's bathroom bursts open. With nary a thought to his awkward accomodations, Captain Wonder flies out to accost the interloper. Wonderful, another mercenary, likely one of the magical ones Medea is so fond of hiring. Hovering high above the marbled floor of the lobby, he glares down at the Norseman. He greets the Norseman in the tongue of Baldur and Loki, the ancient Norse fitting perfectly on his tongue. "Do the sons of Ask and Embla sell their swords for gain? How the mighty have fallen.

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