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Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Sorry for the late initiative, Erin goes on 29
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For a moment Fleur didn't respond at all, or seem aware of what was going on around her. She sagged against the bier of vines, her arms still buried in the greenery, her eyes closed. All at once she seemed to snap back to herself, straightening to her full height and opening eyes that glowed a shimmering green like the light in her portals. The flower crown she wore in her hair writhed as it grew, plaiting leaves and blossoms through her hair and spilling over her shoulders. She grabbed the Green Man by the shoulders and gave him a quick, sharp shake. "Call them back!" she demanded, her fingers digging in. "You made this, you don't get to take your ball and go home. You fix it, or I'll do it for you, even if I have to sap every ounce of energy you've got and leave you an empty husk." With that, Stesha sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards, her eyes fading back to normal, if slightly wide, blue.
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Gina's eyes widened just a bit when he mentioned hearing someone think about her, but she managed to school her expression into a faint smile. "Doesn't get much further," she agreed. "But I like it there. I'm happy there," she added, checking the bandage where one of the techs had removed an IV drip. "Happier than I could be here." Gina looked up, forced herself to meet his eyes by digging her fingernails into her own palms. "E-even if your control were perfect, it never would've worked. You can't... can't force people to love each other, or force bad people to be good. Maybe you can manipulate their actions, but it's... it's not real. Superpowers are amazing tools, and having them is exciting, but they can't solve everything." She dropped her gaze, uncurled her fists. "I... ArcheTech carries baffling panels on planes like this. I can set some up for you that will mute the mental noise and let you get some real rest."
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"It's... it's really me," Gina managed, taking a few steps towards the gurney. His voice was still slurred from the coma, but otherwise he seemed cogent, which was a good sign. "Just, um, try and relax," she suggested, taking the cup and replacing it with a can of Sun Drop from the mini-fridge. It was his favorite, or had used to be, anyway. "It doesn't... um, I know, we all know you were trying to help. That you didn't mean, um, didn't mean to hurt anyone." While her mouth wrestled with getting the words out, her hands were quick and professional, working on automatic as she checked his bandages and his pulse, checking the rest of his vital signs with her handheld sensor. Keeping her eyes down helped, she found, just so long as she didn't really look at herself. "You're recovering well," she told him as she touched his toes with a small metal probe to check for twitch movement. "You should be physically recovered in another day or two. Can you still sense the presence of other people in your head? Are you having any trouble with control?"
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Once Caradoc, the pilots, and the last of the medics had filed out, Peter was left alone in the half-lit quiet of the plane for a moment. The ventilation fans hummed and somewhere a discarded smartphone chimed an incoming text. The gurney sat in the middle of the cabin and Peter sat on the gurney, his face pale from days of unconsciousness and his skin still purpled with seatbelt bruises under his white hospital gown. As he looked around, a muted click heralded the opening of a concealed door in the bulkhead. Gina stepped out of the shadows and closed the door behind her, pausing for a moment with her hand still on the catch. She was smaller than Peter, younger, paler, but their hair was the exact same shade of dark blonde and their blue eyes were both set deep over rounded cheeks and flattened chins. When they were little, the two youngest Evanses had looked almost like twins. Now, Gina thought, they both looked like ghosts. She took a step forward and searched for words in her dry throat. "Hi Peter," she finally managed. "Been awhile. I'm glad you woke up."
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Wander leapt down next to Midnight, her costume smeared with dark fluids that didn't really bear thinking about. She'd obviously gotten pretty close to ground zero in her necroptic investigation "The wound is really clean," she added, "I mean, comparatively. If the heart gets ripped out of something that's alive, the chest cavity is going to fill with blood, the lungs will collapse, and the blood vessels will give way. Especially if the body's laying prone and face-up like this. Even without the heart pumping, you're gonna see a lot of blood gushing around, coagulating at the wounds, you know?" She looked up at the looming wall of corpse. "That didn't happen here. Maybe it has something to do with the blood vessels being frozen, but either way, it makes it harder for us to tell whether the guy died here or got dumped here." She shrugged. "Either way, it's sort of a stroke of luck for us as bystanders, cause we don't have tens of thousands of gallons of blood in Socotra harbor to try and clean up along with the body. Between that and all these water controllers, the damage should be pretty minimal. And the fishing ought to be amazing."
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Erin raised her eyebrows at the brief conversation about mammals, but thankfully that part of the conversation was past before she had to weigh in on it. She kept an eye on the situation on the ground and listened to the lecture on party etiquette, but was just as glad when they were back on the ground. She wasn't totally sure how old Thinks-And-Eats was by the standards of his kind, but she had vivid memories of teenage drivers, both herself and others, and decided it was probably overall safer to be on the ground, raptors and all. Hefting her gift once more, she followed the young raptor through the gates, her head automatically swiveling to take in the scene. She caught the strange noises just before Thinks-and-Eats mentioned them, and found herself more than a little curious. If a raptor coming-of-age party was perplexing, a raptor childrens' party was unfathomable. She detoured a few steps from the group, trying to catch a glimpse around the edge of the building without being too obvious.
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"Copy that," Miss A replied to Caradoc's communique. "Let him know that, um, my assistant will be with him very soon." She looked around at the house, the people embracing, talking, shaking themselves free of their nightmare, and pressed her hand flat to the faded wallpaper for a moment. The air was stale and musty, with the sour scent of too many frightened people, but under it was the smell of paste wax and hairspray and burnt coffee that shot her right back to childhood. She closed her eyes and focused. Opening the band wider, she spoke to Cavalier and Caradoc at once. "I was able to isolate an unstable human telepath and we have him under wraps for the moment. He has no prior history of psionic talent, nor any genetic markers for metahuman tendencies, so let's keep combing that wreckage and see if we can figure out what triggered this. I'm- I'm going to be doing a wide recon sweep on silent running to try and pick up any radio signals, so don't expect to hear from me for the next little bit. Cavalier, Cobalt Templar, let Caradoc know when you're coming back to the plane." With that, she strode out of the house and leapt into the air with a force great enough to leave dents in the dirt of the backyard. She circled wide of town, touching down almost immediately in a scrubby windbreak between two wheat fields. Miss A made her way through the underbrush, ignoring the burrs that pulled at her designer jacket and slacks, till she found the dilapidated remains of a squatter's shack. It was in even worse shape than it had been six years ago, but it would do. Tucking herself up small, she crawled into the shadowed hideaway and closed her eyes... ...opening them a second later in the darkness of her hidey-hole on the airplane.
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Erin accepted the dimensional transport with equanimity; by now she'd traveled between dimensions so many times and in so many ways, she'd lost whatever nerves she'd once had about the process. Resting one hand lightly on her holstered bat, she took in the room and the surrounding area, cocking her head in a way that was slightly reminiscent of Thinks-and-Eats' regard. Nothing seemed particularly dangerous at the moment, with the possible exception of the large reptilian carnivore, but she'd have to take those on a case by case basis. "On the way," she suggested as she followed the others towards the hovercraft, "why don't you fill us in on what we can expect and how we should act at this party. None of us have ever been to a raptor get-together."
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"Peter, Peter, calm down," Miss Americana instructed, shaking Dr. Irons' shoulders lightly. "I understand what you were trying to do. You were always the hopeful one. We can help you get this under control, and figure out exactly where this power is coming from and what to do about it. The first thing you need to do, though, is wake up your own body, the one on the plane. Once your mind is back in your body, we can get started." She looked at the doctor's uncertain face, pursed her lips and closed her eyes just for a moment. "Gina's waiting for you on the plane," she admitted. "She's my assistant, and she came with me because she was worried about you, but I made her stay back until we learned more about what was happening. She'll be glad to see you again. Stop the fighting and wake up, Peter. It's going to be all right."
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Once she'd said her piece, Fleur tucked away her communicator and turned her attention back to the mummified Green God. It was obvious that his physical form was not contained in this one place, she'd sensed that much already and acted to bind it. But the core of him was elsewhere, somewhere close by, and would have to be located and secured. It was over that way, in the same direction as her colleagues' voices had come from. They must have engaged with the center mass, or something close-- All of a sudden, the body in the vines jerked as though struck, going limp in its bindings. Hastily Fleur took off a few layers of vines, revealing the face of the would-be god. He was unconscious, and she had no idea why. Well, one idea why, knowing how hotheaded her teammates could be... She jolted as the vines suddenly all seized up at once, jerking as though pulled with ropes. From the direction of the center mass came inarticulate male screaming, obviously the Green Man's voice, though she couldn't make out the words. There was a loud SNAP of breaking bone, and suddenly the body in her snare was not only limp, it was dissolving. The ground began to shake. Instantly, Fleur was on the move, teleporting herself to the central mass she'd found moments before. With a glance she took in the body, still surrounded in vines, head at an obscene angle, not breathing. The other heroes were gathered around, staring at it. "I said not to hurt him anymore!" Fleur shouted, her normally placid face showing a nearly unprecendented fury. "We don't kill our enemies!" Turning her back on the teeam, she plunged her hands to the wrists in the tangled vines and shut her eyes. The entire chamber was bathed in green light and the smell of spring flowers and newly mown grass. All the plant life that had been damaged and destroyed in the fight suddenly began to reappear, filling the room shin-high with plantstuff. "You're not quite dead," she murmured to the broken figure, "come on..."
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Erin did her best to help with the research, but she was better suited to gathering supplies. She didn't even have the base of historical knowledge that the others had to work with, despite some hard cramming in school. At least she'd probably come in handy if whatever had killed a massive maybe-god showed up to go a second round. As the team took in the macabrely gruesome scene in the harbor, she tested the air and grimaced. "Smells a little like my first trip to Freedom City," she muttered. "We're lucky that the water is keeping the worst of the smell down. Here," she added, taking a couple of small pots of menthol camphor out of her knapsack and passing them around. "Smear some of this under your nose if you get close to the body. It'll help." Not bothering with it herself, she followed Midnight out towards the shore. "This thing is going to be a serious public health hazard in another day or so even if it doesn't flood the harbor," she remarked. "But how the hell would we do an autopsy, orbital laser?"
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Miss Americana froze in the middle of the hallway as she heard the distress call, her impulses warring in a half-dozen directions at once. "Hold your position," she instructed the pilot, "provide backup for Caradoc if possible." She switched channels. "Caradoc, do you need help out there?" Even at her best flight speed, reaching the airport would take precious minutes, but it was all she could do to offer. She turned for the moment to the situation closer at hand. Turning to Dr. Irons, she took him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. "Peter," she said, her voice low and intense. "I know you have some understanding of what's going on here. I want to help you. Gina wants to help you. You have to tell me what's happened to you before more people get hurt."
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"I have access to a great many resources," Miss A told "Dr. Irons" casually, turning the knob and opening the door. "I imagine I could find your sister, perhaps even bring her here to the family. But let's take a look inside here." She stepped into the house, concealing a shudder with a momentary stumble on the uneven doorframe. "Don't worry, everyone," she told the assembled group, looking especially at the older kids. "Everything's going to be all right. We're going to get everything figured out, and you'll all be safe." Turning without being directed, she walked past the kitchen and down the short hallway to the master bedroom. Halfway down the hall, she paused as her radio chimed. "Yes?"
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Erin blinked at this new revelation, but didn't let it throw her too much. Being invited to a raptor birthday party was already weird enough that crashing a raptor birthday party didn't add much icing to the cake. "If you're sure we're not going to ruin the party," she told Thinks-and-Eats, hefting her present under one arm and checking her bat with her free hand. Generally she'd have gone unarmed to a costumed party, but she'd already suspected that in this case, to be disarmed would be a potentially disastrous show of weakness. She looked to the others. "Everybody ready?"
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As the Green God, now just the Green Man once more, teetered on shaking legs, Fleur raised her arms once more. Long vines ran down from the walls and spilled onto the floor of the earthen chamber, then wrapped themselves up around the would-be deity like a caterpillar going into a cocoon. They bound his arms and legs, covered his head, enclosing him, blinding and deafening him, but at the same time protecting him. Once the body was bound, the vines went further, wrapping the floors, the walls, slithering into the darkness and continuing to grow. In the chamber where the others were, the vines crept in and covered the walls and the crypt, pretty green vines with broad fuzzy leaves and star-shaped yellow flowers. Stesha raised her communicator and activated it, hoping the others would be able to receive through the layers of rock. "Don't hurt him anymore," she told the others, walking towards the wall where she thought her teammates might be. "He's done. But he's right, it can't end like this. If we shut him down, take him away to... wherever, what happens to this place? What he did was wrong, and he had to be stopped from doing it anywhere else, but hundreds of thousands of people, maybe more, depend on him just to survive. Suddenly taking him out of here would be a catastrophic natural disaster."
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Okay, sorry this took forever, life just needs to be less insane for awhile. Fleur will attempt to use her snare to grab hold of the Green God and wrap him up real good. She gets a 23. If she succeeds, she will use the full snare to blind and deafen.
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Miss Americana put her hand on the doorknob and then stopped, staring into the doctor's eyes. Despite the turbulent emotions and many shocks of the day, her brain was slowly managing to kick into gear once more, taking in information and drawing conclusions. She heard the hesitation in his voice when he referred to members of the family, as though not certain what he should be calling them. The utterly ridiculous story about Lissy Evans putting family ahead of herself even for a minute might just have been politeness, but not when the middle-aged Dr. Irons slipped long enough to call her "Ma," just for a split second. There was very definitely some psychic presence in town, but even her relentlessly logical brain would not make a leap that far. Not without more evidence. "But the whole family isn't accounted for, correct?" she asked, her voice surprisingly normal. "The brother in Kansas City, yes, but Peter Evans had a sister as well. She doesn't seem to be here."
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Miss Americana looked around the yard for a moment, catching sight of things here and there among what could only be termed wreckage. Sequins flashing in the sun caught her eye, and she saw an entire wardrobe box filled with small and enormously floofy cupcake dresses and white satin sashes. That they'd been allowed out of the house at all was surely a sign that the homeowner was not in full control of her faculties. "When did the family start coming back?" she asked. "Moving all this out can't have been easy. Was it just since the accident?" She took the time to look at a few more boxes, moving in the direction of the house only slowly, very nearly reluctantly.
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Wander dropped into the parking lot just a few moments after Wail did, landing next to the visitor's center map and then walking out towards the chalk circle. In the dusk, her purple and black uniform blended with the gathering shadows from the trees. but her face gave her away with skin that was white even at the height of summer. There were definitely reasons beyond anonymity to wear the mask when she was working. She gave LaMarr a cordial nod as she examined the circle, then stepped inside. "Guess this is sort of a reunion," she commented. "How've you been?"
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"I guess the first thing to do is have a look at it," Erin said, sounding somewhat reluctant. She'd had more than enough experience to know what a corpse smelled like after baking in the sun for a couple of days, going to look at one the size of a medium-sized town was bound to be unpleasant. "Maybe it'll have a wallet or something to tell us where it came from. Are we going to be able to move it around any, or are we going to need scuba gear?" Trevor surely had scuba gear and maybe a submersible craft down in his basement somewhere, but Erin would just as soon stay out of the waters around Socotra, giant or no.
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Miss Americana would've liked a moment or two to settle herself after landing and seeing the house, but the child and the doctor gave her no time. She almost flinched when little Chuck grabbed her, but managed to turn the movement into a crouch so she could hug him back. "Absolutely, kiddo, we're going to get this all figured out," she promised, all the while looking over the child's shoulder at Dr. Irons. She nodded fractionally, then raised a questioning eyebrow. "Looks like a lot of stuff's been moved out of the house," she observed casually. "Should we find a less crowded place for a consultation?"
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Erin looked equal parts annoyed and confused by the non-explanation from the faerie. "So you're saying that leprechauns are allowed to find their own gold and grant wishes to themselves when they do? That's gotta be the stupidest folk tale ever," she blurted out, shaking her head. "Why isn't the whole world just as they want it, if they can do that over and over again?" She looked to Midnight with some relief. "You're right, that's the important part. Dralion, you got anything that will let us track down where they are, or where they're going?"
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Erin stifled a laugh by shoving a large piece of omelette into her mouth, nearly choking herself for her trouble. Janet was, a terrible mother, that was true, but at least spending time with her was less horrible than the emotionless cold-eyed ass that was legally Trevor's father. Erin was just glad that she had no plans to use any of her tucked away money anytime soon, because that meant she didn't have to have any dealings with him besides quarterly emails that she barely skimmed anyway. At least Janet appeared to have some feelings, and maybe even a distant sort of concern for Trevor. "We'll be heading out soon after breakfast, I think," Erin said, cutting a more judicious piece of omelette this time. "I've never been to a race like this, and we're going to see everything. Will you be in Freedom City anytime soon?"
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"Where does something that big even come from?" Erin added, studying the massive corpse. "We've seen giants before and really big monsters, but I've never even heard of any humanoid who could stand on his tippy-toes and catch jetliners." She scrubbed her face with her hands. "It seems like Nina's family should be able to tow the corpse out to sea and sink it slowly there, it's not like something that big is actually going to raise the ocean levels or anything. But if we don't know anything about what happened or where it came from, there's a possibility that the next time one could fall on land, or come through alive and pissed-off that we sank their relative. Have you checked the Freedom League's records?" she asked Mark.
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