angrydurf

(Wharton State Forest) Poor Lonely Sinners Traffic in Freedom City on New Year's Eve was miserable, but that didn't matter much to those who had alternate means of travel. When Erin had decided it was time to get out of town, it hadn't taken long to get out of Bayview, then to shed the city entirely, running out as far as the boundaries of Wharton State Forest, where the buildings were few and far between, and she could start to see constellations in the sky again. Most nights the smog of the city was reassuring, after months of looking at a sky free of the light and smoke of humanity, but tonight the celebration and noise was oppressive, smothering. There was a party somewhere on campus to watch the ball drop in New York City, but that was the last thing she was interested in. New Year's wasn't quite as bad as Christmas, but it still wasn't something she was quite ready to participate in. Last year at this time, she hadn't quite been allowed outside yet, and maybe that had been easier. Dr. Franklin had brought her a little bottle of sparkling grape juice and a tray of party snacks, then had gone away when she asked to be alone. She missed Dr. Franklin, for all that she still saw him once a month for follow-up appointments at the Goodman Building. Dr. Marquez was her doctor now, and it wasn't at all the same. Dr. Franklin wasn't pushy, and he'd understood that the last thing she wanted to talk about this time of year was the future and resolutions for the new year. It was hard enough to live in the present without being buried by the ghosts of the past that were everywhere during the holidays. Dr. Franklin wouldn't have blithely given her the assignment to write down her new year's resolutions in her stupid therapy notebook and bring them in next week. He would've understood. Erin gave the notebook under her arm a resentful look, even as she slowed to a walk and began looking for someplace to sit. A large flattish rock on the edge of a dormant field sufficed for a seat, so Erin sat down and opened her notebook. It wasn't like she hadn't had to do this kind of assignment for school before, back way long ago in normal school. There were BS resolutions anybody could put down onto paper without even thinking about them. Erin wrote a couple down. "To do better in school and stay caught up on homework. To start making and saving some money. To be nicer to other people." Neatly printed in big block letters, and double-spaced, of course, they took up the first third of the page, and were completely meaningless. Resting her hands flat against the notebook, Erin looked up at the sky again. She didn't even know what she wanted, how was she supposed to make resolutions for what she should be doing? When she'd been a kid, she'd had all kinds of detailed plans for how she wanted her life to go, and none of them had come close to working out. For a long time, her only plans for the future had been to get through another day, or even just one more fight. There wasn't time to think of anything beyond that, even if it had been practical to do so. That same survival mentality had persisted long after she'd left her own world, through her time in quarantine, then with her new-old family, and then getting settled in at Claremont. Just put one foot in front of the other, finish one grueling day after another, and let the future worry about itself. But it had been a year now that she'd been surviving, and maybe it was time to think about something more. She paused uncertainly with her pen poised above the notebook. Even if she made a resolution, she wasn't sure she wanted to write it down. But if she went in with the list she had, Dr. Marquez would just make some comment about being too insecure to actually make real promises to herself, and she'd just be annoyed and defensive all over again. She was getting so tired of that, too. Finally she put pen to paper and wrote: "To do more normal things." Other students did normal things despite their powers and wherever they come from. They dated, got jobs, went to parties, all those things she'd expected to do in high school. Why did it all have to be so hard for her? Maybe if she just tried it a few times, she'd remember how it was all supposed to go. Well, it was something to hope for, anyway. Looking periodically at her watch, Erin studied the clear black sky and counted down the seconds to midnight.

In A Distant Wood Vampires don't sleep. This sounds like a blessing if you don't stop to think about it, a happy, cheerful way of gaining more time to live life to the fullest, a gateway to a world without fatigue, exhaustion, or the other curses of the flesh. But sleep isn't about the flesh, really, no more than it has to be. Sleep is about the mind and the soul, about the primal release of dreams and fantasies. A life without dreams becomes, so easily, a life without imagination, without feeling, without caring, without humanity. Jack wasn't so lucky. Not tonight, not any night. Behind his eyes as he moved among his people, as he tried to hold together a fracturing coalition of young vampires, he heard the screaming and saw the blood. Taylor dying in agony as the monster spawned by their unholy love clawed its way from her midsection, the terrible reality of death and damnation as he slew the beast, the knowledge that his own existence was nothing but that of a miserable, foul parasite. Self-destruction wasn't easy for the blood of the Dragon, but there were ways. Oh yes. But what good would that do? What good would that do anyone? Dwelling on the horror of the universe wasn't a terribly satisfying thing, not when it only worked to expose his own blasphemous nature and did nothing to actually solve any of the problems he and Taylor faced. She might not die. The baby might not be a monster. He'd turned away from the dark impulses of his blood; many of his people had done the same. You've seen small children, came that voice whispering in his ear as he sat on the throne that was his symbol of office, a dark prince in black and white. Child vampires, too. You know what they're like... He pushed that thought aside too, though it certainly wasn't easy. Taylor had made her decision, he'd made the very difficult choice to stand by her decision. The many grim possibilities of the future were beyond his control. What he needed to do was embrace the future as it stood, despite the sheer terror with which he contemplated that possibility. He'd need to be there for Taylor, be there for her as a man and as a partner, and trust that fate and the hard work of their friends would protect both of them, no, the three of them, from the horrors of the world around them. That night, after they made love, he caught himself sitting up and watching Taylor, the moon shining in through the window sparkling ever-so-slightly as it passed through the tempered glass to light them both. He loved her as he'd never loved anyone; embracing her as a representation of all the best parts of humanity in love with all the good parts of himself. Could what lay ahead of them be so terrible? Could their son? Well yes, of course he could. But as Jack watched Taylor sleep, he vowed to be there with her. Whatever happened. "Till death do us part," he whispered, reaching across the bed to stroke her hair. But then again, Jack was dead to begin with.

The penthouse had always had more room than they'd needed. Even with one room serving as the bedroom, there was plenty of space for Jack's office and Taylor's library with more to spare. The room that Taylor had currently opened had mostly been used for storage. The furniture from Taylor's sparse apartment had been hastily stacked in one corner. Boxes of old text books were shoved up against them along with a little bit of extraneous clutter that always came out during any move. In addition, there were the few things of Jack's that had been misplaced or replaced by her permanent arrival into his home. It had been a gradual thing, really. They'd never sat down and talked about it. One night had just turned into three, then five, then forever somewhere along the line. And slowly, this room had filled up with the things that didn't fit into a newly shared life. Shutting the door behind her with a quiet click, Taylor stepped into the room on bare feet. With her dark hair pulled up into a tight pony tail and dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, she'd dressed for a hands on cleaning that didn't really match the actuality. She moved through the room, moving things back and forth with crackling eldritch energy. Keep. Donate. Donate. Ask Jack. Keep. Eventually, everything that had to be donated had vanished into her pocket, and the things to keep or question had all been shoved out in the hallway and Taylor was left in a pleasant if empty room. Like many of the rooms of the apartment, the few windows had thick drapes blocking the sun. Eventually those would have to be replaced but for now, Taylor spent the few minutes wrestling them all down to the ground and shoved them out in the hallway as well. It wasn't as mindless a task as Taylor had hoped it would be. It certainly allowed her thoughts to wander and considering she was working on clearing the spare room for a new and rather unexpected occupant, it was inevitable what direction her thoughts would take. Like marriage, children were something Taylor assumed were off her plate after accepting her duties as the Chosen of Heshem. In the act of ripping the drape off the wall, Taylor paused to stifle a snort of self-mocking laughter. At least the addage of 'plans in the face of the gods' held true. Taylor wondered if Heshem was in stitches at her Chosen. It was an image she had trouble forming. With a thump the heavy velvet floated to the ground and with a flick of her wrist, Taylor sent it floating out to the hallway with the rest of the 'things to get moved'. She rested her fingertips on her hips and frowned at the bare four walls and floor. She couldn't picture the room as a nursery. She couldn't picture herself as anyone's mother. She was still getting used to the whole 'being someone's wife' part. There was still graduation in the spring. Technically, she hadn't even finished college yet. Ruthlessly, Taylor suppressed the rising tide of hysteria. Cream. She would paint the walls cream and then decide on the carpet. Even if it was all too big to tackle at once. She could do one little thing, and then another. No, it wasn't going to be *normal*, but they'd manage it all somehow. She could deal with it, and she would. One step at a time.

Stesha walked into her apartment and dropped her carry-on bag onto the floor with a weary thud. Two of her hyacinth forcings opened up to drop her suitcases as well, and even they sounded tired as they thumped onto the living room carpet. It had been a long, long trip. She'd been very happy to get a chance to go back to Chicago for a week, see her family and spend the holidays, but Christmas at home was always chaotic, to say nothing of the plane trip. Her powers had spoiled her for easy travel, but with her dad accompanying her to the terminal to say goodbye, she hadn't been able to figure out a way to go through security and still miss her plane without losing her luggage or having anyone looking for her. Flying coach was quite a let-down after teleporting or flying with Derrick, and she was sure her elbow was black and blue from her rather aggressive seatmate. She didn't need to sleep anymore, but she was exhausted. When she was honest with herself, though, Stesha knew her weariness didn't come from the long flight from Chicago or a busy holiday week. She was desperately tired of having to lie to her family. Keeping secrets didn't come naturally to her, and after the invasion of the demons this past fall, strangely dreamlike though it seemed now, she'd known she had to tell the truth. She couldn't face the thought of something happening to her and her family never knowing, or knowing why. It wasn't fair. And it wouldn't be fair, either, to take Derrick home to meet everyone while making him participate in her deception. Even if he wouldn't have been utterly incapable of pulling it off. He was a secret she desperately wanted to share and show off, but she couldn't until she came clean about the other. She'd planned to do it at Christmas, she really had. She'd even worked out what to say, more or less, and when, and how to maybe do it without ruining the celebration. Then the thing with Jack had happened, and Taylor's wedding, and she'd just been so tired and afraid in the days following the invasion. Even though everything had seemed to go back to normal, she still remembered how bad it was, how much worse than she could possibly have imagined. For awhile, she'd thought about giving up, going back to being just a florist who was really good at growing things. She didn't have to keep putting herself in danger and watching people she liked or loved endangering themselves. Her powers weren't that great or indispensable, and she didn't have a charge from a god or a commission from the Freedom League to worry about. It wasn't like she'd signed a contract when she'd started visiting parks in the dead of night last summer. If she gave it all up, she could go home, back to Chicago, with no one the wiser, and everything would be the way it was, more or less. Simple and safe, even satisfying to a certain extent. She'd never have to watch anyone she loved die violently, ever again. She couldn't do it though, and some part of her knew that the whole time. Stesha liked who she was when she was Fleur de Joie, and she liked what she could do for people. Maybe it was mostly small potatoes, no pun intended, but it did make peoples' lives better, and every once in awhile, when the stars were aligned, she could do bigger and better things. Giving up on superheroing would mean giving up the whole life she'd found through it, all the friends she'd made, the confidence she'd gained. And it would mean giving up Derrick, who she was sure would never understand such a selfish decision. She couldn't do that, either. Eventually the memories had started to fade a little more, and her resolve had grown a little more, and the immediate fear began to recede. Even so, she'd scrapped her plans for Christmas and had simply gone home instead, talking about her boyfriend without mentioning anything particularly unusual about either of them. It was a copout, and it had colored her time with her family. Leaving her suitcases where they were for the moment, Stesha went to her front window. It was pretty enough outside, with Christmas lights still up even on the day before New Year's Eve, but the second floor didn't offer a lot of perspective. Making resolutions, especially big ones, called for a little of that. Touching one of her bromeliads, she transported herself through a little dwarf maple in the rooftop garden on one of the city's tallest buildings. That was better, though it was bitter cold even through her jacket. Stesha walked to the edge of the roof and looked up at the faint stars, then down at the bright lights of the city spread out beneath her. She would come clean this year, and she would do it soon. No more secrets, no more lies, not to the people who meant the most to her. This was the life she wanted, even the dangerous parts, but to keep it, she had to be good enough to deserve it. And her family was going to love Derrick, just as soon as she plucked up the courage to introduce them. "Soon," she promised aloud, her voice snatched away by the wind. "Very soon now!"

Reflections December 31st, 2009 Interceptors Brownstone Still in her sweats and T-shirt, Lynn checked the time on her cellphone; luckily, she had over an hour to come up with a nice look for Colt tonight. With a wave of her hand, a standing mirror rose up out of the floor of her small bedroom, reflecting her in a thoughtful pose. “Okay, first up, hair.†Rather distractedly, she shifted through a number of looks, lengths and colors, shoulder length cascades of burnished gold melting into straight black tresses hanging all the way down to her waist. Most of these ‘doos she wouldn’t dream of wearing on the town (at least not as herself), but she liked to think outside the box from time to time. What would look the best next to Colt? I want a good match for his awesome rugged style. This was something new for her; of course, she always wanted to look her best for her boyfriends, but with her new beau she found she wanted to be complimentary, so people would know right away they were a couple. At her insistence, Colt had given her a peek at the tux he’d be wearing to the party, and to his amusement she’d given it a thorough going over with an analytical eye. Now she tried to remember all the details, but finally shook her head in annoyance “Wait, I need to look at it again.†Rolling her shoulders back, Lynn took a deep breath and let her glamour flow, until she stood before the mirror in a carbon copy of Colt’s outfit (albeit much smaller), complete with boots and black cowboy hat. She grinned as did a few cartoony cowboy poses, pistol fingers at the ready. “Howdy, ma’am! Wow, I look good in a tux! Not too butch, neither. Mmm, maybe some other time, though.†Before she bid his Western look goodbye, she stopped to think about the man himself; what was it about Colt that made this relationship different? She pursed her lips as she fiddled with her bolo tie, deep in thought. True, he made her feel safe, but all of her boyfriends had been strong silent types. What else? He makes me want to be a better person. Was that true? Well, she had been thinking about the dancing lessons since Taylor’s wedding, and the crazy idea of college had floated to the surface once of twice. Then it finally hit her. “Colt’s not a boy; he’s a man.†And with that realization, a flood of other thoughts entered her mind, more or less unbidden, and for maybe the first time in her whole life, Lynn had a glimpse of her future. Sure, there was a crimefighting and kicking butt, but there were also thoughts of making a home of her own, and building a life with Colt. And maybe things wouldn’t head down that road anytime soon, or even at all, but it was time to start thinking long term. Rushing over to her bedside table, the young shapeshifter pulled out her journal and a pen, and started madly writing; her Western tux drifted away in tatters of mist, leaving her usual bum-around clothes in its wake. Satisfied with her little list, Lynn smiled as she dropped it back into the drawer and returned to the mirror, humming ‘Auld Lang Syne’ as she created the perfect party dress.

(Wharton State Forest) I have become intrigued with this concept the humans call “New Year’s Resolutionsâ€. The humans have a peculiar way of measuring the amount of time that has passed, one of the larger units of measurements being a year. Most humans live around 70 to 80 years. As such, living to see a new year is a big achievement. The humans celebrate this with a large amount of parties and even a strange ritual observing the effects of gravity on a ball. The point of this entry is to remark and take part in the concept of the New Year’s Resolutions. The humans make a promise or “resolve†to make changes to better themselves within the coming year. Here are my own Resolutions: 1. Visit another country. So far my analysis of the human condition has been colored by the American style of living, which I am told is different in other countries. Therefore, I need to observe the other cultures so that I may make a proper comparison between the cultures and determine what exactly the unique human condition is. It is also the only way my research will truly be legitimate. However, I will endeavor to make the transition slowly, so as I do not experience as much of the “culture shock†as I did when I first came to America. I will most likely visit the European countries first, then Asia, followed by South America and ending with Africa. I am not sure what countries I will specifically visit in each of these continents but I plan to make a circular visit at many points in the coming years, visiting a different country each time so hopefully my time will be well spent and I will have a general idea of what I wish to investigate when the time comes to visit, and live in a given country for a given amount of time. 2. Get a “steady jobâ€. Many of the humans I am told have a job of some sort. From my understanding, a job is some task a human does repeatedly and receives some sort of compensation for the completion of this task. It is a central part of the routine a human will regularly follow on a day to day basis. Apparently, many humans do not enjoy or take pleasure in the tasks that they are assigned to do for their job, but yet they still tend to them regularly. It is my understanding that these jobs are necessary for survival in human society. To be more accurate, the compensation that the jobs grant is necessary. Though from what I am told, certain professions are entirely invaluable to maintain human society. Which jobs in particular are in the category mentioned above are quite debatable, as many people deem their own jobs to be important while those in another job do not share that opinion. I believe the humans refer to this discrepancy as a bias. The point in however, is that because I do not possess a normal job, I am missing out on a very important aspect of the traditional human life cycle. I wish to understand this aspect before this year is up.

New Year's Eve, around midnight. ------------- Resolve Nothing changes on New Years Day. – U2, "New Years Day" Matt had intended to watch the usual New Year's Eve celebrations on TV, but the forced jubilation and banality of it all just made him depressed. There was always work to do with the Madcap outfit, so Matt made his way down into the lab and rolled up his sleeves. He'd spent the remainder of the evening cleaning the residue from the adhesive delivery tubes. The build-up of gunk in there bothered him. The tubes were lined with Teflon, but the stuff was still sticking. Matt starting making notes about milling his own tubes, and coating them with a new anti-adhesive. A swarm of molecules and diagrams consumed his attention… When Matt had moved into his father's old front business, he'd installed microphones by the door, so he'd know if customers entered the storefront while he was upstairs or in the lab. Sometimes, sounds from the outside filtered in, and it was such a sound – the blaring of a party horn – that let Matt know it was midnight. Happy New Year, I guess, he thought. He sat back from his scribbling and drank some water. With a stretch, Matt got up and wandered over to the rack holding the Madcap outfit. "Happy New Year, dad," he said, toasting the costume with his water bottle. He pulled over a chair and sat down. "Like what I've done so far? Me neither. I busted some of your old gang – which was dumb, because I should have been playing to them, getting more information about their activities, and not just getting them tossed in jail. I fought a couple of punk supervillains, in the middle of the night, where nobody could see, or care. The only thing I've done is to get on the radar of every super-hero who's aware of what you did. They think there's some sort of gang turf war going on. "And that's it. Pretty thin scrapbook so far. I'm trying to make Madcap a hero, and I can't even get on the front page." Matt sighed and spun the seat of his chair around. "So what do I do, dad? Can you give me a clue? How do I show the world that there's a Madcap - a Wyman, a you – out there who isn't a complete piece of – " Through the loudspeaker, a woman's scream of terror from outside interrupted him. Shoving the chair away, Matt scrambled into the Madcap costume, chuckling as he did so. "Subtle, dad, real subtle. I get it. Don't try to be, just do. Sounds like a resolution to me." He paused a moment before a mirror. "Look out, 2010. Here comes Madcap." With a grunt, he sprinted up the stairs, preparing to drop from the roof onto whatever assailant menaced the screaming woman.

Mike wasn't generally much for the resolutions thing. His father usually gave a toast for new years resolving to cut back on the coffee or whatever other minor vice Mikes mother was trying to put an end too. His mother usually made more sweeping resolutions about buying only organic or free trade or what not that would last for a few weeks then be forgotten. Perhaps that was the root of his disagreement with the whole practice. They always seemed so empty if not downright selfish and generally didn't last much past February. But when he really thought about it, it was more than that. Really deep down he'd never had anything that seemed worth making a resolution over. It seemed to him that if you were going to make a promise, to yourself or others it shouldn't be frivolous and really his middle class suburban wasn't long on the non-frivolous. If anything had occurred to him that wasn't it seemed silly to wait until the beginning of a new year to make such a resolution. He wasn't exactly sure what was different about this year but he found himself hovering far over the city of Freedom and pondering the new year and what it would bring. More than that he was pondering what he would bring to it. His newfound sense of responsibility for his fellow man was perhaps the cause of his musings, or perhaps his new friends. He certainly had learned a lot from each of them about what was really important after all. For all their foibles Eddie and Chris and especially James understood the value of living in the moment. Letting the past be the past. He certainly did want to be more like them in at least that. Learn from it don't dwell on it as Eddie had quoted from some song. And Mark of course had really taught him what friendship meant. Being there one hundred and ten percent for someone just because they were your friend. Of course he had kinda understood that before but Mark really lived it. Some might call it silly or naive but Mike had come to understand how valuable that simple trust was. He really had come far. From really knowing no one but Alex to all the friends he had. Beyond just being glad to have them though he had come to know just how much he valued them. Not to mention how he feared losing them. He didn't even understand how Erin managed as well as she did with all she lost but he was glad that he and the others could be, if only in some small part, a surrogate family to her. Family. Wow. He thought. Zoe and really Alex definitely were that. Alex always was in a way he supposed but that had definitely changed, and for the better at that. He still didn't know exactly what to do about Zoe. He could tell she was hurting, he wasn't blind after all. He wanted nothing more than to smash whatever it was that had done that. On a purely visceral level of course, he didn't even really know how to talk to her no less try and be anything like what she had lost. He didn't even know if that was what she needed now but he knew he'd be there when she did. Perhaps that's my resolution then, and not just for Zoe for all of them he thought. Simply to be there for his friends. As he pondered it faint cries of distress drifted to his ears, from far further than he could normally hear so clearly. But that too was forgotten along with his musings on resolutions. Some one needed his help. Phalanx shot down from the sky towards the cries in a flash of blue and gold, it was a bad night to be a criminal in Freedom City.

The New years always brought with it a chance to remake and better one's self and it was something Atlas never took seriously. This past year however have him a reason to do so. Everything got turned upside this past year, so more changes were in order if he were to continue in this sort of life. First and foremost, and probably most embarrassing of all, Atlas had signed up for a yoga class. I'll give you a second to both pick your jaw up off the floor and for you to get that visual out of your head. Alright, you good? Good. Now the reason for this is because Samael had now been stuck as Atlas for nearly a month, and probably wasn't going to be changing back any time soon. Now, he had never been the most graceful person in the world, but before now, he had always been normal sized. Now that he was really big, his overall awkwardness was exaggerated. So, he wanted to be a little more graceful to make sure he didn't step on people's toes or anything. Navigating normal sized building was also a little bit of a pain. So being a bit more graceful was at the top of the to-do list. Secondly, Atlas wanted to visit Jack and Taylor's place. This was a two-fold resolution. Firstly, he just wanted to see what their house looked like. He was flat out curious to see how Jack and Taylor held themselves when they were in the comfort of their own home. Not to mention the fact that the place being decorated by a vampire and a witch had to be hysterical. There had to be grim dark on every wall. The second part of this was to connect with them as friends more than anything else. He knew them as Phantom and Avenger. He wanted to really know who they were behind the masks as it were. He had few friends in Freedom, and wanted to connect deeply with those he had. Third: Get a "lady friend". I don't need to explain this one. Fourth, find a mattress I like. Yeah, my new house has been furnished and everything, but I've yet to find a decent mattress. I crush anything with springs after about a week, and I can't get comfortable on that memory foam junk. I know that makes me weird, but I just can't get comfortable on it, it feels too mushy to me. Right now, I just have one of those super-duper size bean bag chairs to sleep on. It rustles a lot, but it gets the job done more or less. I'm just a touch too big for it so my feet always are on the floor. And I got a feeling it's only a matter of time before this thing goes as well. Lastly, I want to figure out why the heck I'm Atlas now. Yeah it was cool that I got all these powers, but I really need to figure out for myself why I have these gifts, or if I should start referring to them as a curse. No mysterious figure has stepped forward to claim responsibility for the act, and no one else has stepped forward with similar abilities. I could just be a mutant, but that wouldn't explain why it took so long for my powers to manifest. That sort of thing usually happens around puberty, or so I'm told. As if they time wasn't stressful enough in a kid's life.

Southside – Bayview – Eddie Ozan’s house Eddie sat alone in his room, on the first day of January. He had paper, a pencil, and a headache from the night before. But tradition was tradition, and if you didn’t keep up with it, it was useless. The first thing he wrote was, “New Year’s Resolutions!†Then sat, tapping his pencil against the paper as he tried to think of things he actually wanted to write down. 1. Put out an album 2. Schedule a tour 3. Make my first million Okay, so most of these things are for the band, but it had to be said. We haven’t done much with ourselves in a while, and I really want to get back to it. First step: Put out an album. Even if it’s just an EP, I would still really like to get it out there. I also really want to go on tour with these guys. I think that we could really be a hit if we just got our names out there. 4. Stay with Zoe So my life has been a white-knuckle thrill ride ever since I met this girl. And I’d really like to keep it that way. I never knew anyone like her from home, and she’s even pretty unique as far as Freedom City’s standards go. Yea, I think I’ll stick around for the long haul with this girl. She’s worth it. 5. Start a charity Wouldn’t it be great if I can out-donate Bono? Zo says that I become quite the philanthropist in a few years. So what am I waiting for? There’s plenty of people that need help out there and the sooner I help out the better. Now what do I call it? And more importantly, what do I donate to? Cancer survivors? No, too cliché. Plus they already have a tone of money pouring in for them. How about, something music related? Something about singing… Singing for salvation? Maybe the Salvation Army needs money? Well, it’s something to look into at any rate. 6. Get into the Freedom League Well, this one might take a while. But it’s worth it if can I can actually do it. I may be a little young yet, but it would be worth a try. And they don’t necessarily let everyone in that tries out, so I had better start trying out soon. 7. Alphabetize my CD and Record Collection (again). Eddie continued tapping away at the paper in front of him. He’d only gotten about halfway down the page, but he didn’t have anything else planned for the day. He’d always spent New Year ’s Day making a list of things he wanted to do for the year. Tradition was tradition after all.

West End – The Underground – New Year’s Day Colt sat in the rolling chair in front of Vince’s large screen display monitor. He wasn’t scanning for criminals, he wasn’t researching super-villains, heck, he wasn’t even researching guns. No, Colt wasn’t sick, he was writing his new year’s resolutions. Currently , the screen showed only a small list of things, but the list was growing as Colt plugged away at the keyboard one key at a time. 1. Learn to type better. Reckon I seen Razorwing’s fingers fly across the surface a this thing. I ain’t that good at this whole typin’ thing yet, but I mean ta learn. Sure would make writin’ this list easier. 2. Win a shooting contest in Freedom City. Hard ta believe that I been here bout three whole months already, an’ I ain’t won a dang trophy yet! Either I been busy or I been slackin’. Either way, I gotta free up some time an’ practice up. 3. Start a trophy shelf. Left most’a ma own trophies at home. But I reckon there’s plenty’a time ta start another trophy shelf. I certainly think I’m gonna be here fer a while. Might as well start decoratin’ that there room I got upstairs. 4. Learn to fight without guns. Well, I reckon that charity event we all held a while back showed me somethin’. Now I reckon I’m the best there is when it comes ta shootin’ but there ain’t no way I’ll be any good in’a fight if’n I get ma guns taken away. Maybe I c’n ask ol’ Jack ta show me a few things ‘bout usin’ swords’re somethin’. 5. Read 10 books. Grim’s given me a hearty stack’a books ‘bout as tall’s a horse. Reckon I better get crackin’ on them. I ain’t been much’a reader back home so I bet I c’n set a good ol’ goal fer maself. Ten books by the end’a the year sounds mighty nice. 6. See how bad “Tex-Mex†truly is. Colt continued to plug away at the keyboard. Every time he added a new item to the list, he saved, as Vince had advised him. Suddenly the alarm went off, and a news feed showed up the screen. “What in blazes?†Colt exclaimed, “Who in their right mind robs a bank on New Year’s Day? Y’all should be sleepin’ off last night if’n ya ask me. Oh well, duty calls!†and with that, the Interstellar Cowboy ran off towards the garage to get his motorcycle and get into the action!

Phalanx was still shaking off the effects Wanders blow to the face when the ball started moving and was unable to brace himself as it quickly headed out into the street. The hulking teen quickly lost his feet and spun end over end as the ball rolled presenting a substantial hazard to his smaller teammate.

Looks like an interesting villain. One thing though is the immunities, you don't actually need them for the reasons you described. You can just say that painkillers/healing has no effect on his pain its a descriptor. Mechanically that can be described by the fact that his powers don't have a power loss drawback related to removing his pain. If you want him to be immune to general sedation etc, probably better to say that he has a poison immunity (all the drugs he was pumped full of have left him with huge tolerance for toxins). Now the healing power could theoretically be used as a counter for his powers but I think in that case it would actually target the thralls or targets of his paralyze rather than him.

As James ported Wander and Geckoman to the top of the volcano Phalanx swept Psyche up into his arms. As her mental powers cloaked them from sight he accelerated to top speed arriving at the origin of the blast fractions of a second after their friends arrived at the Volcano's rim. Landing hidden from the enemies senses he got his first good look at the weapon.

Jennifer affirmed, "Uhm Yes," and offered a nervous smile before continuing, "I know you didn't want a reward or anything but, I found this while we were doing the clean up and inventory." She held a small ring box. Then taking one of his hands quickly pressed it into his hand, "I think you dropped it on your way out." Mike took the box in hand no small amount of relief flooding his face only to have a guarded look return, "But the payment was ..." But before he could finish she shushed him waving off his concern, "The owners themselves insisted Mr. Harris, I'll not go back telling them you refused." Mike sighed, it wasn't really worth arguing about and he did need the ring, Maybe he'd just make payments on it, if they didn''t return any he attempted at least. "Alright." He said with a smile, "I can see I'm not going to convince any of you its unnecessary." "Right you are Sir." She replied, then glanced down adding "and I might add, Alex is a very lucky young lady." then turned and rushed off past the group of approaching students trying to control the color that had suddenly bloomed in her cheeks. Mike stood confused at the commentary for a moment before he noticed his friends coming down the hall and quickly ducked inside the room to hide the ring in his desk.

Epilogue A few days later there was a knock on his door. Mike gladly set aside the trigonometry homework he had been working on and swung the door open. Standing in the hall was the Saleswoman from Haas Brothers, Jennifer. "Hello Mr. Harris," she said quickly as she peeked around him to ensure he was alone, certainly wouldn't do to ruin the surprise after all, "I ah looked up your address from the paperwork." She admitted with a nervous titter. Mike blinked in confusion for a moment then nodded, "Is this about the other day?" He asked not wanting to go further into the matter of the thwarted robbery.

When he arrived back at his room Mike was glad to see that Mark was out. His identity certainly wasn't secret but he didn't really want to answer his enthusiastic roommates questions about the incident. The likely hood of the entire affair appearing on the evening news didn't even occur to him at the time of course. He quickly changed into a non-tattered outfit before remembering the ring in his pocket. His eyes grew wide as he frantically searched the remnants of his clothes. But it was to no avail. The ring was undoubtedly somewhere in the shop still if one of the blasts from the Power Corps hadn't vaporized it entirely. Mike sunk into his chair and buried his face in his hands. Drawing himself together he picked up the phone to see if the payment had gone through before the attack began and was grateful to find that the transaction had apparently been canceled. Thinking about it more clearly it made perfect sense of course. Kelsey could certainly have had the payment canceled and likely had done so after Mike had fled his attempts at finding a reward. Mike was relieved of course but uncertain where to go from there. Some days it seemed nothing was simple in Freedom City.

Phalanx grew increasingly uncomfortable with the praise. "Really Sir, that's not necessary." He argued as the Kelsey grew more insistent, "I'm just glad no one else got hurt." Kelsey was apparently a man unused to taking no for an answer and plowed onward, "A noble spirit young man. But my employers have along history in this town and would never forgive me if I didn't see to it you were properly rewarded." As he finished speaking the police arrived distracting Kelsey for a moment. Phalanx seized the opportunity the distraction provided and with a hurried, "Have a good day." took to the skies at speed.

Mike shook his head humbly, "No sir I just tried to help, don't send me a bill for the floor and we'll call it even." he said with a grin. He really was starting to grow uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He wasn't really used to facing the public in this fashion usually leaving this part of the 'job' to Edge. "Nonsense my lad." The manager retorted as Mike handed over the hefty case. "Who knows how much worse those dastardly thieves could have done if you hadn't been here."

As the crowd broke out in grateful applause Mike put that question aside and hurried to check on the downed STAR officers. Leaning down he was glad to see them already beginning to come around. He helped them to sit up as he tried to recall his limited first aid training. They seemed fine however just a little dazed from the attack. There appeared to be no other injuries among the customers or staff and everyone was picking themselves up to dust off in the wake of the attack. Jennifer approached, with the general manager in tow introducing him as a Mr. Kelsey and explaining, "I believe that's a shard of Moonstone. We were commissioned by the Atom family to seat it for them. I can't imagine what those villains would have done with it." Mr. Kelsey Agreed, "Indeed we are in your debt young man. That case is priceless."

He's getting engaged. Marriage is still a few years off. But you don't want a short engagement people will talk ;)

Phalanx nodded agreement. "Besides that gun packs more of a punch than just draining powers." He said, "I don't think any of us should assume any kind of safety in getting hit by it. Best bet is to either go in hidden or fast enough they can't get a good shot." He peered up at the lip of the volcano, "and we don't know how much time Edge has."

Mike smiled wide, "What makes you think that?" He asked full of faux innocence. Quickly closing the last few feet to Alex's side he gently deposited the handful of snow atop her hair. "I accept your offer of truce." He said as he finished squishing it in. He took guarded step back, "So lunch?" He asked breaking into a small laugh.

Sirens can be clearly heard rapidly approaching and Number Two clearly decides discretion is the better part of Valor and engages her flight systems Rocketing away at max speed. Three manages to disentangle himself from Fives unconscious body and ignite his own flight systems in preparation go fleeing as well but his injuries prevent him from getting far. Phalanx spins still grasping Sevens foot and launches her into the now hovering Number Three both of them lapsing into unconsciousness next to Number five. The Youthful Hero then gently grasps the box they had been so desperate to get their hands on, quietly inquiring, "What could be so important?"

Round Five Initiative 21 - PC 3 - Staggered and Bruised 15 - PC 2 - Bruised 10 - PC 5 - KO'd 10 - Phalanx - 0 HP - Uninjured 9 - PC 7 - Staggered and Stunned Three will engage his flight system in preparation of fleeing Two will fly away as a full round Accelerated move. Phalanx auto wins the grapple since Seven is stunned and throws her at Three full all-out/power attackRoll to hit with thrown Number Seven (1d20+5=19) Just enough DC 34 Toughness Toughness Saves: Toughness for three then Seven (1d20+10, 1d20+11=[10, 10], [5, 11]) A 20 and a 16 Enough for both to be KO'd