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The Kriegsmarine's Plan Z


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GM

 

 

Freedom City Shipyards
The Waterfront, Freedom City, New Jersey

Wednesday November 11th, 2015

5:00 PM

 

 

Most visits to the Waterfront by the general public were not centered around the shipyard.  But, most visits didn't revolve around a public unveiling.  Heavy restrictions placed upon Germany after World War I ended meant that the country could no longer keep any semblance of a respectable standing naval force.  In response Germany created a dummy corporation so as to secretly rebuild its naval force from the ground up.  An act that was a direct violation of the military sanctions placed upon the country.

 

The greatest success story to come from this was U-Boat 000.  The only Type XXVII U Boat ever built.  This top secret nuclear submarine unofficially held the record for most ships sunk during a commercial raid.  When the US joined in the war, this record extended to being responsible for the sinking of the most Allied cargo ships.  At least until a convoy finally brought the submarine down.

 

As Germany has long since denied the extinction of the XXVII when a research expedition from ASTRO Labs uncovered the wreckage no one in the government raised a complaint when team offered to donate it to the Hunter Museum of Natural History.  The fact that the ship transferring the submarine would be arriving on Veteran's Day turned the entire event into a garish celebration.  Food stands, flags, and above all members of the media were posted all over.

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Naomi was a little annoyed at her History teacher. It wasn’t that she had plans for her afternoon/evening, no. But to assign a project just because blah blah living history blah blah…it was so lazy. As if her teacher couldn’t be bothered to actually teach. Instead saying go there, learn things, report back. It was times like this she really missed being able to scream in frustration. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about history. It was the principle of the thing. Her teacher should be here. You know, teaching. What could be so interesting about some old boat, anyway?

 

She had a negative attitude. She knew she had a negative attitude. She had to think positive. Opportunities like this didn’t come around every day. Her teacher had simply carpe’d the diem. With that said…this was a nightmare. So many people. All moving around with their feet slapping the pavement. Half of them or more talking, most of them fairly loudly. The sounds and various effects of cooking stall food were a factor, too. And that wasn’t saying anything about the Waterfront’s machinery. The air was thick with vibrations, and it was driving poor Naomi to distraction. She felt every single one colliding with her skin as she absorbed them. She’d just purged some this morning, darn it! At this rate she’d have to do it again before bed. The decorations were hideous. She couldn’t order food without whipping out her notebook. And oh my god there was too many people in too small of an area. She just wanted to be in her nice quiet dorm room, far away from large groups of people and industrial machinery. Was that so much to ask?

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I deserve this little break, Phantasmo...THE UNLIVING! Thought to himself as he leaned casually against a railing. He was ignoring the odd looks everyone gave him, but it was kind of hard to ignore the seagulls that kept trying to make off with various bits. He wasn't exactly sure what brought him here - maybe it had something to do with honoring his father's legacy as a soldier during the Second World War - but he was starting to regret it. Still, it was a nice day, and the breeze felt nice, and he had his lunch. So not a total loss.

 

"F*** off!" he snarled at a seagull, unconsciously slipping into his "Pre-death" accent. But the daft creature was making a spirited attempt to abscond with one of his fingers, so the profanity was warranted.  The bird complied, somewhat reluctantly. 

 

This was a bit more relaxing than his weeks HAD been, he mused as he rubbed his beard. What with the Team-up with that Rahman chap- who was a nice guy, even if he was a bit gloomy -  the incident with the arms smugglers, ETC, he knew he deserved a bit of R&R. He idly wondered what his fellow Supers were up to at this particular moment. 

Edited by MisterShoebox
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GM

 

It seemed the universe saw fit to give Naomi the slightest bit of relief as the crowd around her separated from the girl faintly.  Spurred by the sound of an excruciatingly loud barge horn.  Which startled the crowd apart.  And also served to drive attention away from Phantasmo.  Well at least from the creatures that weren't trying to make a meal of the undead magician.  Mayor O'Connor quickly rushed to the podium.  Prompting the Joseph Clark High School band into action with a rendition of the Lumineer's Submarine.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please.  As we live in the present, and strive to embrace the future.  We must not forget to accept our past.  This submarine will forever stand on display in the Hunter Museum of Natural History.  Not as a symbol of the horrors of war, or the atrocities of men.  But, to impart knowledge and hope for the future.  A structured inquiry into history will always yield critical lessons for investigations into human behavior.  As a staple of our community, the Hunter Museum is one of the many fine institutions in our wonderful city that allows us to appreciate, nurture, and yes even protect the values that make Freedom City free."

 

The experienced politician spread his arm out, as the ASTRO Labs barge began to dock itself.  The crow growing silent.  Not in appreciation for the speech.  Not in awe of the submarine attached to the massive proprietary crane hoisting it in the air above the even more massive barge.  No, they were spurred into silence by a loud metallic clanging noise coming from the submersible.  As if something was striking against metal repeatedly

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Naomi breathed a small sigh of relief. The crowd was parting, and that was good. Thank you, horn blasting person. Then the band kicked into gear, which was not good. She didn’t wince. Visibly.  Then it was time for the speech. With this many vibrations around, she had to look directly at the mayor to have any hope of catching his speech. The crane got to work, and then everyone was quiet. More blessed relief, but why? She looked around, confused. Was this not what was supposed to happen? Sure, the sub was vibrating, but lots of things did that. Wait, could people hear those? Sometimes she wasn’t sure of the difference. Especially at range and after a day like today. Nope, something definitely wasn’t right. She debated whether or not to slip away to change into her Claremont uniform. No, not yet. It could be nothing. A wrench or something could be bouncing around.

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Phantasmo sighed. "Bollocks." he groused as he conjured up a large, razor-sharp playing card in anticipation of what was surely about to go down. The magical zombie 'ported in a puff of red smoke closer to the pier so he could get a better look at what was going on, and to see if there were any other super-types already on the scene. He was sure there were at least a few in the crowd...it was that kind of city. Not that he was complaining, he loved every second of it. 

 

"I really wanted to RELAX today, duckie!" he shouted in general at the Clang. He was sure it couldn't respond, but he still wanted his displeasure known on the matter. Still, the important thing was making sure that no civilians were in danger, so the zombie looked around for any official looking chap he could ask to co-ordinate an evacuation if things got pear-shaped...which they were probably going to do, as Mysterious Clanging Noises rarely meant a good thing was about to happen in the good city of Freedom.

 

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

GM

 

A trailer had been set up to handle the transfer of the submarine.  Serving as the focal point of the attention as the clanging submersible was lifted through the air.  Being set down slowly.  The noise actually came to a complete halt upon submersible's placing on the trailer.  At least that was until a rusted, water-worn segment of the hull fell apart.  Releasing a torrent of trapped water and algae on to the feet of nearby spectators. 

 

An entirely new ominous noise could be heard from the depths of the World War II submarine.  The sound was a low, almost inhuman, moan.  It didn't take long to locate the source of such a commotion as a group of decayed sailors shambled out of the sub.  The crowed was whipped into a frenzied panic as the hordes numbers ever increased.

 

Their uniforms were in as bad of a condition as the decayed flesh that barely held together their bodies.  The fabric giving off a rancid sent due to years of acidic exposure within the confines of the ship.  Or that could have just been the smell of dead flesh.  The hands of these undead abominations were stretched out as if they were ripped out of a George A. Romero flick.  The crowd recoiling back in fright as they neared.  All the while red glowing eyes from within the dark shroud of the submarine's newly crafted entrance hinted that there were more waiting inside.

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Naomi almost panicked. Zombies? They were real? She started to wonder, just a bit, how sheltered the common civilian was. But if these really were zombies, then they’d attack in a second. She didn’t see or feel any heroes springing into action, so the only person here who could help was her. Yay. No pressure, or anything. However, she had a plan of action. She ducked out of sight into an alley, and pulled her Claremont uniform out of her bag. She hadn’t worn it yet, not outside of combat training sessions. She wasn’t a patroller, really. It just wasn’t her style. But today she was needed, and desperately. She shucked off her over clothes and got into her uniform. Her clothes went into her backpack, which hopefully would not get destroyed on her back. Notepad and pen in her back pocket? Check. She ran. First step of the plan was to enlist the help of the mayor and his police guard. On the last page of her notepad was the message she planned to show him. [My name is Waverider. I can’t talk, so I need your help to get people away from here.]

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  • 2 weeks later...

Phantasmo "Ahhed" when he spotted Naomi and in a puff of red smoke, teleported to her side. He ran, or rather loped, along side her, nodding at her as he did so. "Fair morning, duckie!  Quite an odd group of tourists around here, wouldn't you say?"

 

He was donning his hat, cape, and mask as he ran, the garments appearing on his face like...well, like magic. The old, moth-eaten hoodie he had worn to cover his smart tuxedo vanished, as did the beat-up old sneakers and jeans, to be replaced instantly by the rest of the hammy revenant's costume.  "Right! I got a look at our Clangy Clods, miss, and did you know that they are Nazis?" He spread his hands in surprise. "Nazis! Zombie Nazis! Uncouth bastards, right enough. Still, better than Seagulls. Feathery little shits have been taking bits out of me all morning!" 

 

"Ooh, sorry - " He looked a little abashed. "Phantasmo...THE UNLIVING! At your service." He tipped his top hat to Naomi. "Basher of baddies, doer of good deeds, and protector of the unfortunate." 

 

 

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Naomi almost panicked for a second time. Phantasmo had no idea how close he was to getting vibro-blasted. Fortunately, she’d been trained better than that. He was a zombie too, but he didn’t seem to be with the ones from the sub. Plans can be adjusted, if need be. She pulled out her notepad and showed him the back of the last page, like she’d planned to do to the mayor. [My name is Waverider. I can’t talk, so I need your help to get people away from here.] A thought occurred to her, and she scribbled some more on the bottom. [I can’t hear either, but my powers help.]

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Phantasmo nodded pleasantly at the young heroine's written words. "Need an evac, duckie? I can manage that. Hold on a tic." He suddenly vanished in a puff of red smoke and reappeared in front of the majority of the crowd.

 

The zombie cleared his throat and opened his mouth. "MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! THERE IS A LARGE GROUP OF UNDEAD FASCIST LADS COMING TO CAUSE MAYHEM, MURDER, AND GENERALLY UNPLEASANT THINGS TO ANYONE IN THIS IMMEDIATE AREA! ANYONE WHO IS NOT TRAINED TO HANDLE THIS TYPE OF SITUATION PLEASE, AND I MEAN THIS POLITELY, SOD OFF IN AN ORDERLY FASHION AS YOUR RESIDENT SECURITY OFFICER, CHAPERON, OR WHOEVER DICTATES!"  The zombie's voice had changed: It was no longer the cultured-but-at-the-same-time-kind-of-"Old-School-Lad", pleasant sounding rasp it had been when talking to the deaf superheroine. Instead, it was loud, as if he were mic'd on stage. The added sort of "Echoey" effect really helped in disguising it and adding urgency to his words, or so he hoped. 

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  • 5 weeks later...

Alex had been rather thrilled by the prospect of seeing the submarines in transit to its new home, noticeably less so when her been asked to take his brother with him, Richard still felt sour about his having powers and the day had been spent In an awkward and tense silence only broken by the timely occurance of a zombie apocalypse, somewhat grateful for the excuse to break away, shouting over his shoulder as he shuffles his way through the seething mass of people "get to shelter Richie, I'll catch you when this is all tied up." as with deft practise his fingertips brush his belt buckle and his form is changed in a flash of seeding radience to that of smooth sculpted steel

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GM

 

While the heroes were making their plans the zombies lurched into action.  A handful of the undead nazis stumbled their way towards the mayor's podium.  Various members of the city council, and local celebrities froze in terror as they were targeted.  The creatures moving just slowly enough that they had enough time to waste looking horrified.

 

Most of the crowd had began retreating once Phantasmo yelled out his warning.  But, some unfortunate souls found themselves distracted by the undead creature yelling his warning of more undead.  These civilians were pushed and shoved aside by the more active member of the crowd.  One teenager in particular fell to the ground rising just as a zombie came within reach.  He jumped back, barely avoiding the undead abomination's arms (and falling right back onto the ground in the process).

 

Lastly, two zombies began heading in the direction of a parked police car.  Its blaring siren having caught their attention.  Members of the FCPD, no stranger to the weird, used the vehicle as cover and began firing at the zombies to no effect.  Not that this did anything from dissuading the officers.  "Keep firing, these zeds gotta drop sometime boys."

 

"Sir, they're just getting closer!"

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Facsimile felt his heavy metalic musculature creaking and twanginglike springs as he moved, so taking a moment to coil himself up he puts his theory to the test and leaps with all his might, soaring into the air and over the crowds he plummets feet first right onto one of the zombies, flattening it like a mushroom under his nearly a ton of weight,  he barely has time to direct himself before the energy of the landing explodes through his calfs, cracking the ground beneath them and launching him headlong towards another gaggle of undead, shambling towards the police forces on scene

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Crap. Double crap. Triple crap. That…was not exactly what Waverider wanted Phantasmo to do. People were running away, but it wasn’t orderly. But the heck with it. Zombies were after people and that wasn’t good at all. The cops could handle themselves, probably. The mayor had bodyguards. There, that kid. Then a metal guy squashed that zombie, and bounded towards the cops. Solves that. The only people unprotected was the mayor and his people. In the past, she was with Spectacle, who would have charged in fists flying, leaving her to pick off stragglers and watch is back. But he wasn’t here. She was on her own. Naomi needed to do something fancy. So in that case…she concentrated, forming a ball of vibratory energy in her hand. Normally she just threw the stuff until the bad guys fell down, but this was something new. She blasted it at the zombies after the mayor, and it blew right where she wanted it to. Unfortunately, she didn’t know them all down. Oh, no. Now what do I do?

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On 2/10/2016 at 7:59 PM, HG Morrison said:

GM

 

While the heroes were making their plans the zombies lurched into action.  A handful of the undead nazis stumbled their way towards the mayor's podium.  Various members of the city council, and local celebrities froze in terror as they were targeted.  The creatures moving just slowly enough that they had enough time to waste looking horrified.

 

Most of the crowd had began retreating once Phantasmo yelled out his warning.  But, some unfortunate souls found themselves distracted by the undead creature yelling his warning of more undead.  These civilians were pushed and shoved aside by the more active member of the crowd.  One teenager in particular fell to the ground rising just as a zombie came within reach.  He jumped back, barely avoiding the undead abomination's arms (and falling right back onto the ground in the process).

 

Lastly, two zombies began heading in the direction of a parked police car.  Its blaring siren having caught their attention.  Members of the FCPD, no stranger to the weird, used the vehicle as cover and began firing at the zombies to no effect.  Not that this did anything from dissuading the officers.  "Keep firing, these zeds gotta drop sometime boys."

 

"Sir, they're just getting closer!"

Phantasmo sighed and conjured up a pair of over-large, razor-sharp playing cards in each hand. "Right..." he murmured, twirling them around and taking aim at the zombie advancing on the teenager. He flicked it expertly in the direction of the undead sod attacking yon teenager. He tossed another one at another zombie going for the police car, then vanished in a cloud of red smoke, appearing next to Facsimile.

 

"Hello, duckie! Haven't seen you before!" he greeted, throwing cards as quickly as he could conjure them. "Phantasmo the Unliving, at your service! Lovely day for it, isn't it?" he grinned, indicating the zombies with a wave of his hand.

 

"I mean - Nazi Zombies, son! Who ever thought we'd enjoy an outing like this?! Tell you what, Duckie - It's times like this that really make you enjoy being alive!...Well, so to speak, in my case!" He threw another card at a zombie. "OH NO YOU DON'T, YOU UTTER SH*T! YOU'RE GIVING THE UNDEAD A BAD NAME, DUCKIE! BAD FORM! EEEEEYYYYAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!" he shouted at it, finishing up with his signature laugh.   

Edited by MisterShoebox
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  • 4 weeks later...

GM

 

The card tore through the zombie's head.  Dropping the undead nazi with a haste.  Two of the zombies near the mayor had decided to make a beeline for Naomi.  Slowly inching towards her until she was within arm's reach.  Their guttural roar completely directed at the silent water controller.

 

One of the zombies stayed behind.  It's mouth parted as it tripped over itself trying to maw away at local Jazz legend Joey Sousaphone.  Joey was in his mid forties.  But, spry enough to avoid the creature's gaping mouth.  All while screaming bloody murder.  Which did little to dissuade the zombie from its attempt at mauling the musician "Holy s---!"

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slamming his hands together Alex feels his steel body reverberate with the back lash as the air before him ripples like watermwashing over the cumbersome zombies and making their rotting forms undulate as the sound passes through then without effect "looks like I'll have to do this the old fashioned way!...you guys get this evacuation coordinated,we can handle the over ripe produce whilst you get the people to safety!" he calls over his shoulder to the police men behind him

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