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Dutemps Building, Château de Martel Early Afternoon, Around Lunchtime Eve leaned back in her office chair and sighed, rubbing her eyes and fighting off an encroaching headache. She needed something to eat, and to see the other ladies of the Castle. She gave herself a gentle mental chiding, reflecting that it was so typical of her to jump straight into to tackling the pile of paperwork tied to the company, the tower and the city projects she had instead of taking some time to reconnect with her friends. "Yeah," she said out loud, padding off toward the kitchen, "Food."

Claremont Academy Workout Room It was strange being back at Claremont after all these years. When she got asked if she wanted to mentor a student, she jumped at the chance. She was sitting in one of the work out areas, waiting patiently. She had sent a note along to Multi-Girl to ask her to come here instead of meeting elsewhere. She assumed the young woman would benefit from her particular areas of expertise; kicking down doors, kicking bad guy ass, and sneaking around when it was the smarter thing to do. She was vaguely aware that the young woman could make duplicates of herself. That was a neat trick, Mali reflected. She'd been in the heroism business for about ten years, and having a second Crimson Tiger around would certainly make that easier. She hadn't been there for long, and just needed to wait a few minutes.

February 2021 DuTemps Building "She's a great kid, really," Richard was commenting to David Longfellow as they waited for the arrival of their interview subject. Richard was standing, leaning against the wall and occasionally tossing a tennis ball across the room to himself and back again, trusting the crew to do their jobs and do them well. "She and Will were in the same class back in high school. Which means...she must be, what, almost thirty now? Jeez." He zipped over when his intern Terry arrived with coffee and gave him a million-dollar grin. "Thanks Ter!" A quick sip and "Triple sugar, niiice. " He had learned, a long time ago, under very different circumstances, that you were always, always nice to the people who worked for you, because they were the ones who watched your ass. He zipped back to the windows, looking out from their thirty-story height, and said, "I remember when this place was under construction, back in the day. They tore down a whole block that was mostly these little TV repair shops, but the...jeez." He shook his head. "Damn, I sound like an old fart. Sure, sound check," he said as Kelsey approached with the boom mike. "Let's do this." He was dressed for work, hair slicked back with just a few streaks of grey showing, sunglasses in his hand, wearing a safari vest over a black dress shirt and jeans. "You're not that old," Kelsey commented with a cheeky smile once they were done, "not as long as you sign my paychecks anyway!" He laughed as a ripple of laughter ran through the crew, and watched as the crew finished setting up, trusting them to do their jobs - and sure enough, with the windows behind him shaded enough that he wouldn't be backlit, he waited for Mali's arrival.

The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey Tuesday March 17, 2020, 9:12 PM A light rain was falling on Freedom City this evening, making the cool night feel just a bit colder. Out in the dark streets of the Fens, the rain just added to the oppressive, downtrodden feeling that seemed to emanate from every dark alleyway. But from Jack Sounder, the Fens was the perfect place to seek to make amends for the mistakes of his past. Strolling down the sidewalk of the mostly deserted streets, Jack took in a deep breath, trying his best to take in whatever smells were not being washed away by the rain. Turning a corner, the former boxer and mob muscle spotted a group of four young men exiting a dark sedan further up the street. The four men moved with a cocky swagger that was all too familiar to Jack as they made their way up towards a small Mom-and-Pop corner store at the other end of the block. At least two of the young men had their hands in the pockets of the jackets in a way that made Jack certain they were armed…. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mali Benjawan was crouched near the edge of one of the three story tenements in the Fens, out on one of her regular patrols of one of the more run down and crime ridden parts of the city. But so far the unpleasant weather seemed to be keeping troublemakers indoors. Just as Mali was starting to consider heading back to the Du Temps building, she spotted a group of four young men making their way to the entrance to a small convenience store. While they could well have just been a group of friends looking to buy some drinks and snacks, something about the way they moved and carried themselves made Mali study them a bit closer. As she watched, they drew close to the door and she saw one draw out a handgun from the pocket of his jacket as they made their way inside….

West End, Freedom City, New Jersey Saturday February 10, 2018 9:34 PM Mali Benjawan was standing on the rooftop of a four story building in West End dressed in the costume she wore as Crimson Tiger. Over the past couple of days Mali had been investigating the disappearance of several young people in some of the lower income parts of Freedom City. Her investigation so far (read: some roughed up criminal informants) had led her to believe that these disappearances where the work of the Dark Fist, a street gang connected with the On At-Zhang, a Triad that operated in parts of the West End. While Mali would normally not be overly afraid of pursuing things further on her own, as luck would have it her friend and former classmate at Claremont, Giang Trang, had reached out about wanting to help Mali with anything she might be working on. Giang had explained she was helping a current Claremont student with some things and wanted to get her a bit of crime fighting experience as part of the process. So the two had arranged to meet here. Mali had arrived a bit early, to watch over the location that her sources had indicated was a hideout for the Dark Fist. It was an old warehouse on the West End’s boarder with Grenville For the most part the warehouse was dark and appeared abandoned, but from her vantage point, Mali could see that the section toward the back had lights on, and there were lots of motorcycles parked out near the back entrance and occasionally people coming and going out there. A few blocks away Jessica Witchblood was on a Freedom City Transit bus, on her way toward the southeastern edge of the West End. The young woman had been looking into the disappearance of Hannah Ryan, a girl that was a peripheral member of the group of friends who worked in the clubs that Jessica was part of. Despite warnings from Jessica and some of her other friends, Hannah had gotten at least partially involved in some of the more dangerous criminal elements of Freedom City. And now no one had seen Hannah in a couple of days. Not convinced the police would put this as a high enough priority, Jessica had started looking into it herself. So far the best lead she had was that it might somehow be connected to a street gang known as the Dark Fist. So, now she was on a bus headed toward a place the gang was known to hang out at. The next stop would get her a few blocks from the address.

Water between Townsville and Magnetic Island. Queensland, Australia 2017 Thursday, February 2nd, 2017 9:00 AM It was a brisk and cool morning, and four Claremont Alumni found themselves leaving Magnetic Island back towards Townsville, Australia. Specifically to the Australian institute of marine science. Having spent the weekend near the vicinity of the Cockle Bay Reef, for Giang Trang's studies. Aside from surfers, fishers, and those preparing for tours the morning was relatively calm. All in all, it was a good start to the day. In the distance, Kimo Keli'i was steadying himself on his surfboard. Freedom College wasn't swimming in money, it took an entire semester of fund raising just for the surf club to save up for this three day trip to Australia. As such no one was looking to waste the opportunity as a swell began to form. Unfortunately, one of the less experienced members of the club fell off his board in between waves and began frantically splashing around worriedly.

OOC thread for this thread. Will all of Smash's dreams die?! @Thunder King @Thogphog

October 2nd, 2017, 2.17PM Freedom City University, North End, Freedom City, New Jersey, USA Reinstein Hall "So is of the case! Thank Marssaulize Benjawan for hadbringing us to that 'tention! Envirolonament and is...primary determiner of what morals you got!" Professor Sullivan Mash, PHD of medical ethics, simmered behind his desk. His bulky brown suit bulged with the steely muscles beneath, the sweat standing out on his shiny grey head beading under the harsh lights of the auditorium-style classroom, intersected with stark black lines of tattoos. From one ear dangled a ring of gold that would have been a good bracelet on a smaller man, which brought out his pitch-black eyes. "Sully" had no indoor voice to begin with and had a keen appreciation for the dangers of letting the students in the back down by softening his words for those up front. So while, as ever, his class was jam-packed, there was none of the sotto voce chattering and whispered conversation Mali was used to from last year. 'Professor Smash' had a keen eye on top of his cannon-like voice, and did not suffer inattention no matter how gifted his pupils. Ripping a cloth rag from his pocket to soak on his streaming face, Sullivan gesticulated wildly with the other hand as he resumed "So bad in truck! You got carpstruption! You got haberdasher, you even got dovement inftraference! But people loves in your hands, tomorrow we examine-" he squinted at the ceiling like he was trying to burn holes in it "-im-pact of Cold-War-Ol-ym-pics on -mod-ern sports! Pegs three-fuddy to four-hundred-twelve!" He spun on his heel and slammed his grey fist onto the granite desk with a shattering THUD "Bye! Second trussed next woke! See me if you probs!" Like a dam had burst, the students sprang into action, the low hubbub of exits and entrances in education buzzing to life. A few of the students at the front took out ear plugs, looking faintly shaken. The ones who were known to take the most accurate notes were already being accosted by the rest who couldn't begin to make out what Professor Mash was saying. The lectures so far hadn't been strictly necessary, most of the material was already in the book. But piecing together the erratic mind of their teacher was always a must for those who wanted an edge. "Mali!" the word cracked out like a whip, Professor Mash pointing directly at the young woman "See more in orifice! Have fedback on lats paper!" Several of the those around Mali shot her sympathetic looks. Even if it was all good, being in enclosed spaces with Sullivan could be harrowing. elsewhere Ravenna Blackwood was a tall, cool glass of stout, handsome despite the years she carried on her elegant shoulders and aristocratic face lined with cares. She dressed well, but not with an aim to dazzle or impose, a simple sweater of dark blue and crepe pants still worth more than all the clothes Jon had ever owned. A silver necklace bearing a single dark opal glimmered around her slender neck, framed by her long, thick black mane. She'd called Jon there for a job, explaining over the phone that it was a delicate, sensitive matter that required the utmost caution and discretion. So she had brought him to an upscale club in North End, gotten them a private alcove, and told her sad tale. With a sigh, Ravenna set down her glass, untasted, and fixed Jon with her tawny eyes: "There is a supervillain working at the university. My ward attends his classes. I want him exposed and...removed." In the dark of the corner, her eyes almost seemed to glow. "Can you do this?"

OOC for this. As always, ask me anything.

May 15, 2017. Downtown Freedom. Top floor of the HyperMegaCorp Building. Just After Midnight. It was a midnight arms deal. You’d think something like this would go down at the docks (or maybe deep in the Fens) but not this time. This time it was going down in the corporate offices of HyperMegaCorp, the company you trust to make the widgets that make your famous brand name stuff work as advertised. Also known as a lesser Evil, Inc. Tonight, they had a pair of skilled weaponsmiths in to sign contracts to…well, make weapons for them. The weapons would not be sold to finance children’s charities, obviously. HyperMegaCorp had fingers in every regional conflict in the world, after all. Though they had confused an actual child army as a children’s charity once (by accident, they swore and so did their lawyers), so there was that. Which was why Terrifica had been planning this bust for months. Well, more like waiting for the weaponsmiths and the corporate suits to stop dancing and meet, already. The building’s security was purposefully not on high alert, and so it was easy to sneak in. She had her recording devices all set up. AEGIS on speed dial. She was ready to put an end to this thing. And if the weapon blueprints magicially disappeared in the process, well that wasn’t her fault now was it?

GM Waterfront, Freedom City June 12th, 2017 Approximately 11 PM The heat of the day had faded to a cooler night, warm, not oppressively hot. Clouds above passed over the moon. The air smelled of saltwater by the docks. Four vehicles, two SUVs, two cars, pulled up to a modest two story office building. The men and women that got out of the vehicles were dressed in stylish, seasonal wear. Various bags and briefcases were shuffled into the building. Surrounding the central office were a series of smaller buildings and shipping containers arrayed carefully. Most of them, however, were sitting long in disuse, and the office building was maintained, but not often used.

OOC thread for this

Syke's Gym. 3:00 PM, Jan. 23rd. It was an empty boxing gym, well more or less. Except for two people, Amir al-Misri, and Anastasia van Cleef. In other aspects, though it was clean, well lit and maintained. The mats pristine. It as a good neutral ground to learn from the daughter of someone he sort of kind of knew in business. "You're a colossal ass," came the snark statement from Ms. van Cleef, assistant, indispensable 'Dragon of the Summit.' She tapped away furiously on her phone, not deigning to lift her head and look at Amir making a colossal... well what she really wanted to say she wasn't going to. Not that she was going to be prudent and keep her mouth shut, but she really didn't want to pick that fight. Though, insulting him from the sidelines was fitting in with the ice cold blonde, in her smart grey suit. For his part Amir stood off to the side, well in the ring ring, leaning on the ropes. He was more or less dressed for learning how to fight better. Though it was more dressed in a sort of, he didn't know what else to wear type get up of t-shirt and boxing shorts, with his normal burgundy and gold coloring. "Jealous? I understand, completely." Smirking back at her, "As my ass is gosh-darned adorable, I will have you know." "Whatever it takes for you to feel better about yourself, Amir," was the tart reply, and staccato annoyed rat-tat-tat of her fingers on the screen..

GM 6 pm Friday March 10, 2017 Syke's gym The invitation had been surprisingly plain. A simple envelope which contained a simple card. A square of Manila color it had a yellow and green taegeuk symbol on it with the trigrams for fire on the top, water on the bottom, thunder on the left, and mountain on the right. The word "Supreme" was on the top and "Ultimate" was on the bottom. The opposite side had a street intersection and a time. Two hours from now. Mali hadn't really done much to enter. She had stopped at one of the many brightly colored stands that had appeared in Freedom and had advertised this "street fighting" event. It had been all over the news: it would be held across the United States, and the prizes were pretty amazing. The eight semi finalists would win ten grand, the four finalists would also get a million dollar car, and the winner? "A prize beyond imagination." It had pulled the attention of martial artists from across the world. Some of the best fighters in the world would be fighting in this.

Kat wished Algebra 2000 was as simple as rupturing reality. But—apparently—disintegrating homework was frowned upon. The FCU library remained sparsely decorated, even with Christmas looming near. It had the sleek, modern tint. Smooth and silver, with long bannisters and uncomfortable-looking benches lined the outside. Inside, on the lower two floors, was a coffee shop and rows of free-to-use computers and desks, partitioned from each other by glass walls. Above that, the shelves the extensive FCU main library divided the building into discrete parts, with conference rooms ready for booking online (and schedules booked full of students clamoring for one last study session), stacks of books and recycled furniture from other parts of campus that decided they'd deserved something better. Kat had staked her claim on one of the couches, plugged her laptop into the outlet beside it and curled up, too fed up with 'X's and 'Y's to care about her shoes on the cushions, laptop glinting blue light as the sun in the window across the room dipped a little closer to the city skyline, oranges and reds of the near-horizon fighting against the electric-white of the library's overhead lights. She made a soft, distressed sound and pressed her hand into her cheek, looking up from her computer and, longingly, outside.

November 1, 2015 The DuTemps Building While the machine intelligence briefed the superheroes on relevant global events she'd gathered from observing the planet's news cycle, Tarva, her head on her hand and shoulders slumped as usual to disguise her great height, was in the process of making notes on her yellow legal pad, the heavy black ink of her pen scratching quietly as she worked. NORMAL MOVIE FOR KIMBER - 2001? CLOCKWORK ORANGE? AN ANDALUSIAN DOG? She didn't really understand the appeal of any of the bizarrely sanitized movies that people on Earth-Prime enjoyed watching, but after some consideration (and careful scrutinizing of their plots), she'd selected a few that she thought would make for an enjoyable evening. When Bluebird paused to change topics to recent interstellar news, Tarva nonchalantly put her hand under the table and rested it on Kimber's thigh, giving her lover a warm smile as she locked eyes with her. They'd have an evening all to themselves yet. Nobody's going to come between us, she thought comfortingly. Nobody.

tarva, ghost girl, temperance, crimson tiger, dutemps, wraith, blue fox

Greenbank Freedom City, New Jersey Tuesday November 3, 2015, 10:23 PM local time Halloween had come and gone, but Freedom City was still clinging to warm weather, with the temperature having reached the mid-60's during the sunny day. And though the sun had set hours ago, the temperature had so far only dropped about ten degrees. Although night had fallen, there was still plenty of activity in Greenbank, as many of the warehouses continued to operate around the clock, and several of the establishments that had built up in the area to cater to workers getting off shift were open as well. But for every few warehouses or other business that were in operation, there was one that was out of business and sitting empty. Or at least mostly empty. Along the northern edge of Greenbank near the West End sat what appeared to be an empty warehouse. Taking up about a quarter of a block (with an enclosed shipping yard covering another quarter), the building was three stories tall and had once handled a variety of international exports. But now many of the windows were boarded up; the signs were dull and faded; and scattered about the shipping yard were weeds that were growing up through the concrete. But such empty buildings did not always stay that way, and currently there was word that a group of weapons smugglers were using the building's basement to store illegal arms shipments. It was these rumors that had brought three individual costumed crime fighters out into this part of Freedom City tonight....

Okay, just in case we need it, I'm putting this here. Let's assume a time jump from the morning when Saku arrived (we will assume she helped out in the background) to the evening when everyone else gets there; I think that will make things smoother.

Location: Freedom City Museum of Fine Arts, Liberty Park Date: September 23rd, 9 PM Museums, in Bombshell's never to be humble opinion, were best enjoyed after hours. It really was the best. No crowds. No rules about getting too close or not touching. And no security guards giving you suspicious looks when you stepped out of line. At this point, Bombshell had memorized the guard rotation of her favorite haunts to enjoy them at her leisure. Sure, sometimes she might have had to disable the alarms on a window or two - like tonight - but she always put them back. "Hello, beautiful," Bombshell murmured from where she dangled upside down, eyeing the John Collier painting with a judicious eye. Glad she'd caught the exhibit before it was cycled out, Bombshell moved to unwrap her leg from her swing-line to drop to the ground when faint noise caught her attention. Noisy. That was never a good sign. Dropping soundlessly to the floor, a little tug released the hook on the edge of the line and it coiled back into the hilt of her baton. Stealthy and silent, Bombshell went to see what sort of ham-handed smash and grab might be in progress. No one has any appreciation for the art these days, I swear. Bombshell rounded the corner quickly, but not as quickly as the underpaid security detail arrived on the scene. She, after all, had made it a point to be on the opposite end of the anticipated route so her boots hit the doorway just as the nervous, "Stop, or I'll shoot!" echoed out. As her gaze swept over the scene, Bombshell had enough time to notice the five masked men speedily dismantling an exhibit of some sort between her and the security guard detail. Not masks. Gas masks! "No, get back! They've got-" Whatever else Bombshell's warning might have contained, it was lost in a fit of coughing as several canisters opened with several respective bang-hiss sounds around the room. She might have been able to come back from a bullet to the head but her lungs needed air just like anyone else's. Worst. Bloody. Luck. Wa-THUMP. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Freedom City National Museum of Art was situated right along the scenic Liberty Park and abutted affluent Parkside. Which is not to say that Freedom City's finest responded quicker, per say, to the wealthy areas than the poorer ones - but the response tonight was both swift and plentiful in the amount of black and whites that drove along 64th street with their lights blazing. In their defense, though, it had been a rough month for the museums along Liberty Park what with the cultists and the monster-statue. Situated where it was, Grimalkin and her assistant and sidekick were just finishing up another relatively quiet but rewarding day at Silberman's when the first cop car streamed past. When Shrike went to turn the lock, the second and third followed shortly their after, heading towards Liberty Park. Crimson Tiger had already been on patrol and from her rooftop vantage, she could see the flashing lights of the cop cars converging on a small museum abutting Liberty Park. Turning her patrol in that direction, it was clear from her vantage point that one of the skylights was sitting open. As for Jack of All Blades, he had been enjoying a relatively pleasant evening at home when Vince's smooth voice spoke up into his ear, "Ah. I think you might, perhaps, want to hear this..." before relaying the most recent chatter on the police radio bands from the ongoing situation developing at Freedom City's Museum of Fine Arts.

A hand dropped, two men screamed at each other, and they came together, limbs blurring as they struck and blocked and parried and countered. It was an amazing display of physicality, martial prowess, and controlled fury. Controlled, because when the man in the blue robe stuck the flat of his hand into the neck of the man in the orange robe, they both froze. The referee shouted, the men separated and bowed, and a few of the more knowledgeable spectators applauded. Tona Baudin was one of them. She had been especially interested in the arm-lock the tai chi master had attempted, and the way the snake-style specialist had slipped out of it almost bonelessly. Her eyes glittered in anticipation as she looked at the next few fights coming up on the docket. She hadn't even know this martial arts tournament existed a month ago, until her friend Mali mentioned that she was going to watch. In just a couple of weeks though, the young archer had become obsessed with the idea. A place where she could see all sorts of fighting styles on display, measured against each other? It was a thrilling notion to her, and she had waited impatiently for it. Tona wasn't happy that she was restricted to sitting in the bleachers, but registration had closed months ago. She had eventually, reluctantly, agreed that her own style was too wilde and improvisational to be judged in formal competition, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy what she was seeing.This was her Super Bowl, her World Cup, her PAX, all rolled into on, and Tona was determined to take in as much as she could.

The thread for rolls and suchlike intended to influence >this thread.

For rolls and suchlike that happen in this thread.

San Diego International Airport San Diego, California Wednesday, July 30, 2014; 10:21 AM Giang Trang stood in a hallway of the San Diego airport through which passengers debarking from international flights would pass after they left the security area of the terminal. The Asian teen was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a red T-shirt with the seal of the city of Del Mar on the upper left side and the word "LIFEGUARD" across the back, along with a pair of sandals, allowing her to not look at all out of place among some of the other young women nearby. Although Giang exhibited her typical serene exterior, on the inside, she was feeling a slight sense of excitement as she awaited the arrival of two of her closest friends from her time at Claremont. Both she and Mali had graduated from the Academy in late May, while Cerys still had one more year. Very shortly after graduation, Giang had accompanied her roommate Thaelia down to Atlantis for a couple of weeks, before returning to Freedom City to pack up her few possessions and travel out to San Diego in an attempt to find a job for the rest of the summer as she waited for her college classes to begin in the fall at the University of California: San Diego, where she planned to major in Environmental Systems. Mali had taken a trip to Thailand following graduation, and Cerys had left the states as well. But Giang had managed to stay in touch with the two, and once she had secured a job as lifeguard here and found herself a small apartment, the Asian teen had invited the two to come visit on their way back to Freedom City. The number of people exiting the security area of the terminal began to increase, an indication of some recent arrivals, causing Giang to focus on spotting whichever of her two friends would be the first to arrive....

GM The Gateway, the Nucleus, Goodman Building, 1961 40th. Avenue, Midtown, Freedom City, United States of America, North America, Earth, the Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Earth-Prime. 10.47 AM, March 17th, Monday, 2014. The silence had grown almost unbearable as Maximus and Tesla Atom prepared the circular arch placed on raised steps in the center of the starkly-lit room. Hands tapped out short commands on the aged yet ruthlessly advanced control panels on either side as power thrummed through the portal, a kaleidoscopic miasma of shifting colors and shapes revolving in the center as dimensional energies were harnessed for a journey to the uttermost depth of the omniverse. While the the older siblings did their work, Victoria and Chase watched the bulky readout monitors beside them, once or twice calling out a word that touched faintly the edges of the visiting teen's scientific knowledge. Cosmo had a job as well, the blue primate flashing from shoulder to shoulder as he searched carefully for errant insects suck in unwieldy human hair. The destination for the four young superheroines was felt long before it was seen. A prickling across the skin, a sense of rawness in the air and a growing sense of something horrible drawing nearer had gone on for agonizing minutes before- "Got it," Tesla Atom's voice rang out suddenly, a hint of satisfaction behind the steely words as she swept her hand across a quartet of buttons, green energy flowing from her fingers to keep the triggers down, "incoming door locked." she looked up, ponytail bouncing against her neck as she quickly checked on her brother "Max?" "Everything's fine, Tess. Outgoing door just locked, no problems." The older Atom answered with a momentary glance to her. Maximus briefly flickered and passed wraith-like through the panel, solidified enough to check an errant power cable, give it a cautious nudge, and then drifted back to his station with a a relieved smile. It soon vanished though, replaced by a deep frown. "Stand by, Terminus Tunnel opening...now!" And with that, the mouth opened. Air rushed through the Gateway, a deep howling that had begun as the last word fell rose to a deep thunder, and the room trembled as a roiling whirlpool of red and white gaped before the four heroines and four Atoms. Cosmo screamed and vanished in a flash of light to reappear trembling on a rafter, and for a moment nobody said anything more, until Chase stepped over to the visitors. Regarding them with his earnest, penetrating eyes, he said in a quiet voice that cut through the howling wind "We'll shut the outgoing door the moment we know you're through, but like we said earlier, just trigger the Passport," a small metal box sheathed in a faint yellow aura slid out of his pocket and floated over to Blue Jay, "and Max and Tess will reposition the passage to Sanctuary. We will transport you and anyone you can save out of the Terminus. I guess you'll want a 'good luck'. I wish you success." he gave a stiff nod and retreated to Tesla's station. Victoria gave the foursome an encouraging grin "Don't worry, Chase, it's not like they're racing in to beat up Shady Ironpants or anything, just a quick and quiet trip there, Tona grabs her people, they get back, yadda yadda, everything's gonna be fine." Reaching up to the ceiling with an elastic arm, she gently scratched the family Moon Monkey behind his ears "Sucks we're not coming with, I want to meet this 'Steam General' jerk and show him my new Atom Punch! But this is your gig, we'll stay put unless you need us." Miming a boxing motion she turned her legs into a stool and sat with Cosmo on her lap, stroking him gently from long practice. Tesla smiled a little "What Vicky said. Keep in touch, and good luck. I'm sorry we can't go with you. Could be there's someone we know trapped in there too." The maw of the Terminus Tunnel never ceased its seething, its flickering blood-bone colors giving the sere room an ugly feel.