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The small marina was residential, if one could call it that, dotted with houseboats that were just a little bit too small to be luxurious and probably not really seaworthy enough to handle more than a few small waves out in the bay. It was the sort of place where you bought a boat if you wanted to live on a houseboat rather than take one down the coast; the sort of place that had to get its mail from mailboxes by the marina office and where it was hard to find you if you turned off your phones and didn't give directions about which small secondhand house that was technically older than you was yours. It was perfect for the Patriot. Most of the time. Of course, now she had company just a couple of days before Christmas. Ashley stood at the bow of her houseboat, gripping her mug of hot cocoa tightly to stop her hands from wringing together. Everything will be fine. Ellie and Mara are good people. These are your friends. So what if that friendship had come from Ellie being the only underclassman to make her laugh out loud when they were Claremont students. It had been a good start, even if they'd mostly lost touch with each other until after she'd moved back to Freedom. She turned her head, surveying the small space where she lived. It was a beautiful December day and the sun was shining brightly, casting a cold bright glow on the water. It was pretty, anyway, even if it was cold out. That was why they weren't sticking around, she was going to show them around her place, have some hot drinks, then maybe walk down to the nice Arab place down the road. The truth was, Ashley had been nervous - and she was nervous. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a guest other than Fa'Rua - and even that had been entirely too long ago. She had scrubbed every surface, arranged the furniture so it didn't look like a crappy bachelorette pad in here, and even splurged on some new throw pillows for the tiny couch. Now, as she glanced around the front room, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket, fingering the box there, and tried to steady herself. She'd made important decisions, especially after her talk with Stesha on her birthday. She was doing the right thing. She tried to push the negative thoughts aside. Everything was going to be fine. She had worked hard to make this day special, and she was determined to enjoy it. It was going to be a freaking magical afternoon with her friends. Once she was done cleaning up. She grabbed a broom and started sweeping the deck, repressing the catastrophic planning urge that had her remembering where her life jacket was and how long she could hold her breath for the swim out to the nearest water access to her motorbike.

Spring 2022 HAX When she was in America, it was not unusual for Eira to stop by Mara's place to collaborate with Ryder, or just to carry a message from Miss Americana to her erstwhile colleague. But Ryder wasn't at work on the April morning when Angelic landed on HAX's roof, her blue and gold cape flying behind her in what was actually a raging storm. She was tall and blonde in her adult body, looking a bit like a Viking warrior, a bit like her biological mother, and if you looked closely quite a bit like Miss Americana, right down to a costume in Swedish patriotic colors. Showing unaccustomed hesitation, she stood there in the driving rain, carefully clutching a plastic-wrapped box under her arm that bulged about the size of a loaf of bread, before she strode for the elevator down into the main body of the building.

Summer 2020 Angelic had been full of questions ever since she'd found out what was in the sealed sample container that had been personally delivered to Miss Americana - the one that the latter was now in the process of flying to HAX personally. "Active computronium!" She sounded excited; considerably more excited, Miss Americana knew, than the teenager usually was these days. A few years earlier she might have been buzzing around Miss A as they flew, as it was, her wings were spread and there was a smile on her quicksilver face as her magnetic flight propelled her along after Miss A. "Do you think it has a live connection to the Communion hive mind?" She rubbed her wrists, where the inactive computronium that she used to interface with cybernetic systems lay buried. "I wonder if a full-on interface is possible using terrestrial equipment. We may need to take it into deep space." - The announcement of Miss Americana's imminent arrival with her dangerous cargo hadn't quite interrupted babysitting-the-playdate time but it was close. Via closed-circuit camera, Mara could check in on the littlest kids visiting. "The robots are making soup!" declared Charlie, Mia's friend from Nicholson, whose precognition and enhanced intelligence were intermittent enough that he wasn't actually a threat to anybody's job at HAX yet. Mia turned to her friend and declared, a wide smile on her face, "More like...poop!" Charlie grabbed his sides and fell over laughing, with the sweet innocent laughter of an early kindergartener, the sound ringing all through the small office. "You're so funny!" Charlie's mom worked long hours and was a single parent, so he went on a lot of playdates. Luckily the Nicholson program was very good at arranging time out with trusted friends in safe company. Wander was close by, after all. And come to think of it, it was about time for Chitin's visit!

Riverside - Smoothie Shack May 17th, 4:33pm GM All kinds of people came into the Smoothie Shack, on Sundays as with any day: the kids after a cool treat, often with beleaguered parents in tow (though the latter were just as often secretly happy for an excuse to indulge); the joggers who'd some some napkin math and figured they'd burned enough calories to justify immediately consuming that many again; the older regulars, most of whom had stories about the ice cream parlors of their youth (less than most of which seemed credible). Even when it was quiet one could people-watch, learning about the patrons and passers-by by watching the little things. The young man in the booth by the window, clearly wanting to be seen (and perhaps waiting for someone who'd never arrived), the couple who were all smiles and laughter (but there was too much tension, too many little jumps and starts for it all to be genuine).... .....or the not-so-little-things, like the rough young man in the far corner who'd spent the last half-hour, head in his hands, watching his smoothie melt and looking for all the world like the last thread on the sword of Damocles was going to snap at any moment.

Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship! December 16, 9:07 PM "Alright, we're locked up," Erik Espadas confirmed as he rounded the gap in the wall between the dojo's entryway and the training space. With the blinds drawn over the big front windows and a few more sophisticated measures in place the small group gathered were ready for their planned after-hours class. Unlike usual the mats were littered with piled weights, cardboard boxes and anything else that had been handy and looked like it might make for an inconvenient obstacle. "Remember, we're working on mobility tonight," he reminded the deceptively lanky man and the woman with short black hair in front of him, folding his bare arms across his plain white workout shirt. They could have easily been a pair of the college students who frequented his intermediary self-defence classes. "That means something a little different for you two than the rest of us so I figured it was past time you compared notes." The fencer let a lopsided grin split his businesslike demeanour as he stepped back toward far corner where Talya and Steve were watching. "That said, loser has to mop the footprints off my ceiling." In the apartments up above Ellie Espadas held her breath as she tip-toed out of the nursery, hoping against hope that her newest niece and nephew would stay asleep at least long enough to get back to the kitchen. Either one of them crying inevitably woke the other and even with three pairs of hands helping she wasn't sure how their parents were coping. Making it down the hallway and all the way to the kitchen table the med student silently raised a pair of crossed fingers as she sat down between Min and Mara. "And I thought pulling a double at Trinity took it out of you," she drawled just barely louder than a whisper. "Please tell me there's coffee or tea or something."

Ellie Espadas was tired, she was sore and she was pretty sure she was going to have to just burn the pants she was wearing rather than attempting to wash out the new stains. As the ambulance pulled into Trinity Hospital she reminded herself that she'd survived punishing superhuman brawls and weeks stranded on an alien world but in the moment it was difficult to believe anything had ever been as exhausting as her first week as an EMT-B. With her three years of pre-med behind her and medical school beginning in earnest in the fall, it had seemed like a good time to finally get her certification. After all her time volunteering and doing odd jobs at Trinity she'd gotten enough of a foot in the door to be hired quickly despite the competition and she had to admit that between her experiences with the Interceptors and her test scores she'd been feeling a little cocky. Patrolling the city's rooftops from behind a mask and with free reign to use her metamagi abilities was a far cry from grueling hours of hard, dirty work on the streets themselves. "Hey rook, you gonna make it? You look like @#$%," the EMT-I/85 driving the ambulance asked, glancing in the rearview mirror and letting out a shout, loud laugh. Hernandez looked more like a bouncer than a medical professional, with a shaved head and heavily muscled arms covered in sleeve tattoos straining the dark blue fabric of his uniform's sleeves but Ellie had seen his big hands administer an IV with the practiced dexterity of a concert pianist. His manners left a little more to be desired. "Still better'n you," the young woman snapped back with a little more bite than she'd really meant to, garnering another laugh from the driver as he parked. The third occupant of the ambulance, a serious woman with frizzy black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, opened the back doors and hopped out. Braugher was an EMT-P, a paramedic, and Ellie knew she was there at least in part to keep an eye on the newbie. "Go grab a coffee, Espadas, we'll clean up here." It was about a close to praise as the older woman had gotten so far and Ellie simply nodded gratefully before heading into the hospital.

Date: September 19, 2015 Taylor hadn't exactly given Elis all that much choice really. Oh, she'd promised that it was a nice, normal meeting with nice, normal people who just happened to have super powers. Other than that it was just a barbecue with friends who happened to be super parents, at least that was what she'd conveyed on the phone. In Taylor's defense, she really did feel that it was important for the relatively new super hero to have something like a support network. She certainly would have appreciated having had more of a network when she'd first started. Also, her definition for 'normal' might have gotten steadily skewed over the years. After all, Stesha was the most normal person that Taylor still knew - she just happened to be a goddess running her own nature planet preserve these days. Taylor's lack of sympathy for any attempts to cry off might have also been in part in her expectation that it took some strong arming to get people to attend parties. Jack certainly wasn't ecstatic about Taylor's 'we're all going as a family to this barbecue on Stesha's planet before dark hits. No, really. It's important to me' explanation for why everyone was being rousted on a Saturday, side dish in tow. With a soft 'pop' of displaced air, Taylor showed up in Ellis' living room. Huang had his after school job to keep him busy and Taylor didn't think that he'd enjoy a barbecue with mostly adults and the under ten crowd in attendance. Jack and JJ had already been dropped off with Jack entrusted with delivering the side dishes of potato salad and a cooler full of steaks for the barbecue. That she showed up inside the house rather than on the porch was in difference to Ellis secret identity but he might not see it that way. Except for the sudden appearance, Taylor looked normal enough - at least she wasn't in costume. With her hair pulled up in a bun and in a light shirt and denim shorts she could have been any fresh-faced college student. Well, except for the fact that she was still translucent.

March 20, 2015 It wasn't that Erik Espadas was expecting trouble, not really, but he subscribed to the idea that it paid to be the one carrying the biggest stick. Or to be friends with the people carrying the biggest sticks, anyway. When they'd worked out the rough schedule for Min's pregnancy nobody had been particularly surprised to find her due date landed on the vernal equinox. After the unexpected 'visit' by his extended family in the House of Swords for the birth of his first daughter, though, a whole different sort of planning had seemed in order this time around, just to be safe. Stesha had offered to host them on Sanctuary, of course, but even with one or two super-powered healers on hand the idea of being in a whole different reality from the closest modern hospital made Erik a little nervous. If he were being completely honest with himself there was also the fact that he wanted his second child to be born in Freedom City's West End just as he had. If was their home and he wasn't about to let anyone chase them out. That said, even if they weren't going to an earth goddess, the earth goddess could still come to them. A good section of the first floor of the Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship (!) was covered in toys where Stesha was keeping watch over Eden and Amaryllis laughing and playing, chatting amiably with Gina. Nearby Mara and Liz were engaged in an animated discussion of tweaks and improvements to the building's security over a folding table covered in computer equipment including a laptop displaying Vince's neon-green suit wearing avatar. They'd sent Chris out to get food mostly because it seemed like the only way to keep him from standing watch on the top of the building in full costume while Steve had insisted on standing guard, gargoyle like, outside of the second floor apartment where Ellie was making her sister-in-law comfortable. Yolanda had taken up a position across from Steve, solemnly following the taciturn bald man's example. It was, all told, a small army of love and support. Not that that stopped Erik himself from pacing back and forth with nervous energy, his gaze jumping back and forth between the stairs, the clock and Eden, hands clasped behind his back.

There was not an OOC for this thread! Now there is.

March 1, 2015 51 Pegasi 50 light years from Earth 51 Pegasi is an LV-type star, the kind of small yellow dwarf utterly undistinguished except for the simple accident of longevity and luminescence that means they are, by a wide margin, the stars most likely to support Lor-type life across the galaxy. 51 Pegasi does have one novelty - 51 Pegasi B, the gas giant trapped a little more than 4 million miles from its home star. 51 Pegasi B is a burning hot world, wracked by storms and super-heated winds that make the planet one of the most hostile in Lor space. Even so, the scientific research station on 51 Pegasi Ba, the single asteroidal satellite of the planet, has always been something of a backwater. The fluid dynamics of superheated gas giants is a vigorously debated scientific discipline, but one with few practical applications. The team from Ohtalv University arrived for their year-long assignment five and a half months ago, a few weeks before Ohtalv University and the rest of Lor-Van was atomized by strong-nuclear suppression from the Communion. A routine scientific posting had suddenly become a refuge, but also a cage - the picket ship usually assigned as their rescue vessel was called away for convoy duty months ago and they have nothing on the base rated to so much as leave the shadow of the asteroid. Of the five person team from the University, their world gone and families dead, supplies dwindling more and more every day, four are still alive. It's a sad story, but a story repeated again and again the Lor Republic. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Until recently. As he sat in the station's control center, Narab Zober watched what would have been the career-making discovery of a scientist a year earlier play out before him with calm interest. Only the cool discipline of his Hephestian martial heritage kept him here, kept him working, and kept thoughts of home, family, and all he had lost out of his mind. Lives had ended - but life went on. "...from deep neutrino scans, the entity has reached the rocky core of Pegasi 51b and has begun what can only be described as _feeding_ on the heavy metals and other materials within." He watched the rippling clouds, gone chaotic in recent days, and raised a long feathered eyebrow, his padded fingers folded on the table in front of him. "To survive at the heart of a super-heated gas giant, the Gorgon's energy and matter absorption abilities must be even greater than previously estimated. Fascinating. At current rate of consumption, I estimate that within seven standard days, Pegasi 51b will have lost its gravitic cohesion and begin breaking up." And then plummet into the burning heart of the star - along with this station. "This is Dr. Narab Zober of Lor Science Station #0047, ending this rotation's report. Tomorrow Dr. M'Kelley will offer her report on the fluid dynamics of a gas giant in the process of core destruction. End transmission." When he was done, he stared at the communications terminal, as if willing a reply by sheer force.

The OOC

The Scarab soared through the sky over downtown Freedom City like a bullet, her massive scarlet cape rippling behind her like a flag. She was hidden under a cloak of psychic invisibility, a command to ignore and forget her presence that only the strongest minds could resist, but a red blur would show up later on security cameras and in the backgrounds of selfies (and then soon after on social networking and microblogging feeds). Today, her target was a simple tech lab in the North End, Hallomen Advanced Experts. She floated down to the ground and walked up to the door, which opened with a thought (or, to any observers, of its own accord). Her cape continued to billow behind her, as though she were still shooting through the sky. The crimson-clad hero floated up to the reception desk. The receptionist heard a hundred voices speaking in unison inside her mind. Her cape lifted to momentarily reveal an armored suitcase floating in the air beside her. This is a matter of life and death which requires the ultimate in technological expertise.

Please let me know if any of the details I improvised need changing.

For making rolls as necessary!

December 25, 2014 South Pole Basin Lunar Farside It is not true that Farsiders never leave their city, merely that such events are rare and usually for a purpose. The construction of the South Pole station by Farsiders had been one such purposeful occasion, one launched over a Terran century ago by a Farsider monarch concerned about a recent Terran visit to the Moon. (Some Terran visitors to Farside City have pointed out that the Apollo missions took place over six decades later, but the Farsiders have the records of earlier 'interlopers' to show skeptical visitors of today.) With its neutrino detectors and concealed telescopes, the South Pole station is well-placed to directly monitor doings on Earth. Or for that matter, as Lady Lunar proved in the early 1980s, to strike at it. A collection of intellects vast and furious on Earth had realized the station's potential not long after the Communion crisis began - concealed as the station was, it was the perfect place to strike at an enemy in Earth orbit by surprise. What had been a location for observation could become a location for misdirection; a notion that appealed to the ruling government of Farside City, which liked the idea of saving the world they orbit without their true role ever being known. (Farsiders do love their secrets!) And so, for much of the last two months, the greatest minds of Earth have come to its only natural satellite with a singular purpose. To build a machine to protect the planet from the Communion! Steve Murdock had offered what advice he could during its construction, but his experience with dimensional technology was all practical. It had come down to Dragonfly's specific genius and Miss Americana's vast storehouse of general knowledge to put the great work into practice. Caradoc, and the other non-scientists in the party of heroes guarding the weapon (as Steve was not allowed to call it around his employer) had rapidly found another role in the small lunar colony. Lunar soil ashy beneath his feet, Caradoc raised his gleaming blade to the sky, the shining tip above the heads even of the tallest Farsiders in their environmental suits. A new group of Farsider militiamen had been deployed that week - and their usual trainers were busy with an Earth-Prime holiday, an important one, but one that he could miss while Gina Evans was safely ensconced in the tiny pre-fab quarters that she had occupied for the last month. There would be time enough for celebration when the work was done. He spoke over the radio. "Your enemy will target your environmental suits first! They are not pirates, or conquerors, or enslavers. Your dead flesh will feed their ever-growing armies." He lowered his blade as the group shifted uneasily, and for a moment there was dead silence on the lunar plain besides the domed Farsider military base even on the radio frequencies they used to speak with each other outside the dome.

Here is the OOC thread.

Wednesday, February 19th, 2014 9:52 PM The shining towers of North Freedom weren't exactly Nick Cimitiere's usual digs. Give him the bohemian splendor of Riverside, the long shadows of Lantern Hill, even the ambient decay of an abandoned rail yard in Greenbank. But then again, his usual activities didn't bring him somewhere like this. But then there'd been the stories. A string of tech break-ins still wasn't in his wheelhouse, but the fact that they'd gotten into places that seemed on total lockdown certainly caught his attention. That didn't automatically imply ghosts, but it certainly pointed fingers in that direction. But then there'd been the attack on the security guard. He'd been sedated after his injuries, so the police weren't able to get a good account - but the wounds on his body took on the shape of claw marks. Nick wandered among the looming skyscrapers, drowned out in their shadows. So... werewolves? Demons? Particularly feral ghosts? He reeled through the possibilities in his head, feeling utterly off of his game. And what the hell do they want with tech firms?

Player Name: Fox Character Name: Dragonfly Power Level: 14 (187/233pp) Trade-Offs: +2 Defense / -2 Toughness Unspent PP: 46 Progress to Platinum Status: 123/120 In Brief: Bitter young genius out to apply her mind on her terms, and no one else's. Alternate Identity: Mara Hallomen Identity: Secret Birthplace: France (Dual-Citizenship, French/American) Occupation: Full-Time Inventor/Superhero Affiliations: Ironclad, Jill O'Cure, The Lab Family: Alexander "Hollow Man" Hallomen (Father) Age: 20 (DoB: December 1991) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5'5" Weight: ~110lbs, ~160lbs in armor Eyes: Dark Blue Hair: Dirty-Blonde Description: On the short side, slim and modestly proportioned but not exactly muscular, Mara tends to take just enough care of herself to maintain her shape and stay alive, but not much else. She nearly always looks a little strung-out, hair disheveled and eyes tired, like she doesn't sleep well (which she doesn't) or spends long stretches distracted by some project or idea to the neglect of all else (which she does). Her clothing is simple, practical, and subdued in color (shades of gray and black being popular, dark reds, blues, and purples being runners-up). Makeup is practically a foreign concept. Her power suit is built to be sleek and afford her full range of motion, colored in greys and gunmetal blacks with neon blue highlights. The gauntlets are, relative to the rest of the outfit, bulkier and have plating that can shift and rearrange for the task at hand, including deploying a number of small tools; the back of the suit carries a smooth 'backpack'-like piece that extends four short articulated nodes to generate and control her wings in flight. Various parts of the suit, most notably the helmet, can be commanded to pull back or fold away for convenience (though this may, of course, invalidate the suit's life support functions, and there are safeties in place to try to avoid that happening). When not in use the suit is exchanged with a heavy, flexible metal choker that rests at the base of the user's neck; it has no visible clasp and does not look terribly valuable, being made of non-precious metal and what little detail there is being quite obviously glass. Power Descriptions: When Dragonfly's Datalink is active small lights 'dance' behind her eyes; this effect is not very bright, but is highly piercing (being subtly noticeable even through her helmet's lenses, which are otherwise not see-through from the outside). Failed attempts to penetrate her Mental Immunity are met with psychic "static," resistance, and unintelligible echoes of her multiple running thoughts. Her technology-based spatial effects typically manifest as shifting, churning distortions or fragmented space. Some effects are tinted the same distinct neon blue her suit (especially at the gauntlets) emits at the seams and glasswork when charged. In flight the suit creates four thin wings of that same neon blue-tinted energy which leave a soft trail behind her: they are insubstantial, if tingly, to the touch and designed to look like stylized and blade-like dragonfly wings (though they do not flap, but can and do adjust position for in-flight control). History: In certain parts of the underworld you don't buy or sell weapons without knowing the name Hallomen. Word is that for the right price he can get you anything: designer drugs like Max or Zoom, the very latest in illegal technology, and even, once in a rare while – if you can afford it – gadgets from caught supervillains that got 'lost' on their way to the incinerators or science labs. From the back alleys to high-class black market auctions, he supplies whole armies if the price is right and by luck, bribes, and exceptional planning he never seems to get caught; those who've dealt with him jokingly call him the “Hollow Man†(through rarely to his face) in honor of how the police raid into his storehouses and labs to find empty – 'hollow' – rooms. What customers only very rarely know is where most of the new and custom items came from. Hallomen is a cold and ruthless man but a man none the less, and around the turn of the 20th century had a short tryst with a villainess and frequent buyer. He was completely uninterested in the child she bore (what use did he have for a wailing, disgusting baby?) until several years later, when he got word that the child was displaying superhuman traits – signs of high intelligence (for a child of that age) and her mother's ability to control computers by thought alone. Now and only now was the girl useful to him and when the mother was killed (something he calmly claims he had nothing to do with, of course) the daughter fell into his care. Little Mara Hallomen was indeed predicted to be brilliant when she grew older but that simply wouldn't be enough (or soon enough) for the Hollow Man – no, anything good can be made better. He invested considerable resources into her 'education', and so it was that young Mara grew up all but alone in a barely-staffed lab, under a constant regimen of 'vitamins' and 'medicine', supplied with a never-ending stream of knowledge and information; her only human contact was a rare visit from her father, a scant few researchers or guards, and the occasional empath or psychic paid to enhance her mind in ways conventional science could not. Even this was cold comfort, however, as anyone who set foot in the building was under strict orders not to talk to Mara unless absolutely necessary so she could concentrate on her real purpose: designing new and improved tools of crime. From death rays to personal teleporters to battlesuits, she made them all. Old-school and cutting-edge, energy to gravity to good old bullets, she designed a veritable panoply and Hallomen made money hand over fist. Kept docile, driven, and borderline insane as an intended side-effect of her constant "health treatments," the only thing her father could never have predicted was the net effect it was taking on her mind: redundant and parallel in some places, warped and enhanced in others, bit by bit her brain was growing resistant to outside influence. The older she got the more treatment she underwent and the more treatment she underwent the more resistant she became; the more resistant she became the more disquieting her life seemed. Finally, near her 18th birthday, she was resting in what passed for her private room when a lone dragonfly wandered its way through the barred window and caught her eye. To anyone else it wouldn't even have been a remarkable specimen of a dragonfly, but to her the darting little bug was the most beautiful thing in the world: free. Then and there she made up her mind to be as free as the dragonfly was: to escape and feel the wind under her metaphorical wings. Less than a month later, the guards came to wake her and found the room empty, the majority of her research and designs completely destroyed, and a very large sum vanished from her father's own personal bank account. She's managed to stay a step ahead of her father and his goons ever since, figuring Freedom City and its relatively high hero count to be the perfect place to hide out…and test some new designs on her own terms. Personality & Motivation: Mara's more than a little bitter about not having had much of a childhood, and not amazingly socially skilled (which she typically deals with using snark and mistrust). When presented with a puzzle or new idea to build she's energized and almost manic as her brain kicks into gear to solve the task at hand. She's very intelligent and highly rational, but a combination of chronic bad sleep and frequent headaches (both side-effects of her altered brain and assorted substances that are even now still washing out of her system) can make her snide and irate (though continuing social exposure and her ongoing relationship are alleviating many of these problems). Given her life so far, she has a fairly intense dislike of criminals. She's softer at heart than she'd ever admit, having an especially strong drive to aid children, but by and large she's more driven by the victimizers than their victims. It's occurred to her that she could accomplish many of her goals by villainy (at the very least as the sort of villain who hunts other villains as often as they break the law), but believes heroism's just more rational – being strictly on the hero side of things provides more advantages than disadvantages...not to mention helps her sleep a little easier, particularly if she gets her own creations off the streets. Powers & Tactics: Mara dabbles in many areas of technology but most of her combat tech is based on spatial distortions, something she developed under her father's thumb but didn't work the kinks out of until she'd escaped. Her devices, her gauntlets especially, are built to warp and fold space to provide any number of effects. Her Datalink power she finds useful, but more for utility than combat; her mind's resistance to outside influence is something she tries to keep well-hidden as her ace in the hole against manipulation. When given half a chance she plans her battles quickly and efficiently, well aware that she relies on her devices and that those devices have limits. Against an obviously inferior foe she might be careless, but against anything or anyone challenging she is methodical and deliberate, striking when she'll have the upper hand and analyzing the situation for any advantage. Complications: Enemy: The Hollow Man. When she left she dealt a huge (if sadly not crippling) blow to her father's business, not to mention the very large sum of money she took with her. He wants her back, preferably in good condition, though the longer he has to pretend that the key to his most popular items hasn't vanished the more and more flexible he gets as long as she's alive and her head's in one piece. Hatred: People taking advantage of or endangering children, anyone using the creations she thought up, and to a lesser extent organized crime or high-end weapons dealers. HUD: The power suit device communicates most of its Super-Sense powers through Dragonfly's normal senses, and thus may be lost to the appropriate dazzle or similar sense-impairing attack (eg, all visual senses and Uncanny Dodge are lost when visually dazzled; radio signals cannot be 'heard' if deaf; etc). Legacy: Against her best efforts, some of her creations are still being made here and there, and there are still quite a number of older designs floating around through the underworld. Anyone savvy enough, or connected enough, can link this (often quite lethal or empowering) technology to her. Relationship: With Jill O'Cure. Responsibility: Mara now owns and runs Hallomen Advanced Experts (HAX), and is responsible for being the boss and keeping the place going and its people employed, not to mention protecting the rather valuable projects and secrets therein. Secret: Identity. Side-Effects: Powerful depressants and some other compounds (like Zombie Powder) react badly with chemicals and conditioning still in Dragonfly's system; depending on the dosage used she'll range from being slightly neurotic (as her sense of identity fights the old conditioning) up to complete if temporary regression to a happy and disturbing little worker bee that almost mindlessly devours any technical projects put in front of her. Suit Lite: Dragonfly's suit, while in choker form, is severely limited in what it can do - generally speaking, it's capable only of the Dimensional Pocket, Force Field, Shield, and Teleport powers. The device is, of course, only Subtle when in choker form and not actively being used. Abilities: 2 + 4 + 2 + 14 + 2 + 2 = 26PP Strength: 12 (+1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 12 (+1) Intelligence: 24 (+7) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 12 (+1) Combat: 10 + 10 = 20PP Initiative: +7 Attack: +5, +11 Spatial Control Grapple: +4 Defense: +13/+5 (+5 Base, +8 Shield), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -6/-1/-0 Saving Throws: 6 + 5 + 7 = 18PP Toughness: +9/+1 (+1 Con, +5 Protection [impervious 5], +3 Force Field) Fortitude: +7 (+1 Con, +6) Reflex: +7 (+2 Dex, +5) Will: +8 (+1 Wis, +7) Skills: 92R = 23PP Computers 10 (+17)Skill Mastery Concentration 4 (+5) Craft (Electronic) 13 (+20)Skill Mastery Craft (Mechanical) 13 (+20)Skill Mastery Disable Device 8 (+15) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 10 (+17) Knowledge (Technology) 8 (+15) Languages 4 (English [Native], French, Japanese, Russian, Spanish) Notice 4 (+5)Skill Mastery Perform (Stringed Instruments) 9 (+10, +12 Masterwork Instruments) Sense Motive 9 (+10) Feats: 15PP Ambidexterity Eidetic Memory Equipment 5 (25EP) Fearless Inventor Luck 2 Master Plan Online Research Skill Mastery (Computers, Craft [Electronic], Craft [Mechanical], Notice) Speed of Thought Equipment: 5PP = 25EP 1 + 1 + 1 + 5 + 16 + 1 = 25EP Masterwork Double Bass [1EP] Masterwork Violin [1EP] Multitool [1EP] The Lab (HQ) [5EP] The Warehouse (PL10 HQ) [1 + 1 + 14 = 16EP] An outwardly-unremarkable warehouse tucked away in Greenbank, no local gangs or criminals seem to want to talk about it. Funny, that.... Size: Medium [1EP] Toughness: +10 [1EP] Features: [14EP] Concealed (+10 DC) Computer Defense System (Blast 12) Fire Prevention System Garage Laboratory Library Living Space Power (Communication Link [Dragonfly's suit]) Power System Security System 3 (DC30) Workshop Alternate HQ [1EP] Hallomen Advanced Experts [2 + 1 + 13 = 16EP] A solid, simple lab building in the North End that houses one of Freedom City's newest up-and-coming technology consultant groups, with a little something extra hidden in a sub-basement that's not on the building plans.... Size: Huge [2EP] Toughness: +10 [1EP] Features: [13EP] Concealed (+10 DC) Computer Cover Facility Defense System (Blast 12) Fire Prevention System Laboratory Library Personnel Power System Security System 3 (DC30) Workshop Powers: 9 + 2 + 74 = 85PP Altered Brain 1.6 (8PP Container [Passive, Permanent], Feats: Innate) [9PP] Immunity 10 (Mental Effects, Flaws: Limited [1/2 Effect]) [5PP] Quickness 6 (x100, Flaws: Limited [Mental Tasks]) [3PP] Datalink 2 (Mental, 100ft) [2PP] (Mutation) Device 18 (90PP Container, Flaws: Hard-To-Lose, Feats: Restricted [Datalink], Subtle) [74PP] (Powersuit, Technology) A high-tech armored suit capable of warping space to various effects. It requires Datalink to be properly piloted. When not in use it exchanges (via spatial technology and Quick Change) with a solid-looking metal choker that rests at the base of the wearer's neck. Auxiliary Power Array 4 (8PP Array; Feats: Dynamic Base Power, Dynamic Alternate Power) [11PP] Base Power (Dynamic): Flight 4 (100mph / 1,000ft per Move Action) [8PP] (Auxiliary Power Allocation: Flight) Alternate Power (Dynamic): Super-Strength 4 (STR 30 [Heavy Load: 1,600lbs]) [8PP] (Auxiliary Power Allocation: Strength) Communication 5 (radio, 5 mile range; Feats: Subtle) [6PP] Features 1 (Improvised Tools) [1PP] Force Field 3 (Feats: Selective) [4PP] (Spatial Control) Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9PP] Protection 5 (Extras: Impervious) [10PP] (Armor Plating) Shield 8 (Feats: Evasion 2) [10PP] (Spatial Control) Spatial Control 11 (22PP Array; Feats: Accurate 3, Alternate Power 3, Precise) [29PP] (Spatial Control [unless otherwise noted]) Base Power: Blast 11 (10 110ft Range Increments / 1,100ft Max Range) [22PP] Alternate Power: Strike 11 (Extras: Penetrating [DMG 22]) [22PP] (Spatial Blade) Alternate Power: Dimensional Pocket 10 (Feats: Progression [Cargo] 1 [100 tons], Quick Change) [22PP] Alternate Power: Stun 11 [22PP] (Electricity, "Taser-Hand") Super-Senses 6 (Analytical Visual Senses, Communication Link [warehouse HQ], Direction Sense, Infravision, Spatial Awareness [visual], Uncanny Dodge [Radio]) [7PP] Teleport 1 (100ft per Move Action, Feats: Turnabout) [3PP] (Spatial Control) DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC16 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Dimensional Pocket Touch DC20 Reflex Trapped DC20 Will (+1 per round) Escape Spatial Blade Touch DC26 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Spatial Blast Ranged DC26 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Taser Hand Touch DC21 Fortitude (Staged) Dazed/Stunned/Unconscious Abilities (26) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (18) + Skills (23) + Feats (15) + Powers (85) - Drawbacks (0) = 187/233 Power Points

Player Name: Fox Character Name: Dragonfly Power Level: 12 (15) (234/250pp) [261] Trade-Offs: +2 Defense / -2 Toughness Unspent PP: 18 In Brief: Bitter young genius out to apply her mind on her terms, and no one else's. Alternate Identity: Mara Hallomen Identity: Secret Birthplace: France (Dual-Citizenship, French/American) Occupation: Full-Time Inventor/Superhero Affiliations: Ironclad, Jill O'Cure, The Lab Family: Alexander "Hollow Man" Hallomen (Father) Age: 22 (DoB: December 1991) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5'5" Weight: ~110lbs, ~160lbs in armor Eyes: Dark Blue Hair: Dirty-Blonde Description: On the short side, slim and modestly proportioned but not exactly muscular, Mara tends to take just enough care of herself to maintain her shape and stay alive, but not much else. She nearly always looks a little strung-out, hair disheveled and eyes tired, like she doesn't sleep well (which she doesn't) or spends long stretches distracted by some project or idea to the neglect of all else (which she does). Her clothing is simple, practical, and subdued in color (shades of gray and black being popular, quiet blues and dark purples being runners-up). Make-up is practically a foreign concept and generally not worth her time. Her powersuit is built to be sleek and afford her full range of motion, colored in greys and gunmetal blacks with neon blue highlights. The gauntlets are bulkier, relative to the rest of the suit, and have plating that can shift and rearrange for the task at hand - including deploying a number of small tools. The back of the suit carries a smooth backpack-like piece that extends four short articulated nodes to generate and control her wings in flight. Various parts of the suit, most notably the helmet, can be commanded to pull back or fold away for convenience. When not in use the suit is exchanged with a heavy, flexible metal choker that rests at the base of the user's neck; it has no visible clasp and, while clearly well-made and tasteful, does not appear to be especially valuable. Power Descriptions: When Dragonfly's Datalink is active small lights 'dance' behind her eyes; this effect is not very bright, but is highly piercing (being subtly noticeable even through her helmet's lenses, which are otherwise not outwardly transparent). Failed attempts to penetrate her Mental Immunity are met with psychic "static," resistance, and unintelligible echoes of her multiple running thoughts. Her technology-based spatial effects typically manifest as shifting, churning distortions or fragmented space. Some effects are tinted the same distinct neon blue her suit emits at the seams and glasswork when charged. In flight the suit creates four thin wings of that same neon blue-tinted energy which leave a soft trail behind her: they are insubstantial to the touch, if tingly, and designed to look like stylized and blade-like dragonfly wings (though they do not flap, but can and do adjust position for in-flight control). She can call up a number of small drones for a variety of purposes; each is a bit smaller than a football, with one end flattened into a 'face' dominated entirely by a single large eye capable of projecting images and high-energy lasers. Though they lack grasping limbs, they can carry light loads by way of the same gravity manipulators that let them fly. History: In certain parts of the underworld you don't buy or sell weapons without knowing the name Hallomen. Word is that for the right price he can get you anything: designer drugs like Max or Zoom, the very latest in illegal technology, and even, once in a rare while – if you can afford it – gadgets from caught supervillains that got 'lost' on their way to disposal or science labs. From the back alleys to high-class black market auctions, he supplies whole armies if the price is right and by luck, bribes, and exceptional planning he never seems to get caught; those who've dealt with him jokingly call him the “Hollow Man†(through rarely to his face) in honor of how the police raid into his storehouses and labs to find empty rooms. What customers only very rarely know is where most of the new and custom items came from. Hallomen is a cold and ruthless man but a man none the less, and around the turn of the 20th century had a short tryst with a villainess and frequent buyer. He was completely uninterested in the child she bore (what use did he have for a wailing, disgusting baby?) until several years later, when he got word that the child was beginning to show superhuman traits – signs of high intelligence and her mother's ability to communicate with electronics. Now and only now was the girl useful to him and when the mother was killed (something he calmly claims he had nothing to do with, of course) the daughter fell into his care. Little Mara Hallomen was indeed predicted to be brilliant when she grew older but that simply wouldn't be enough for the Hollow Man – no, anything good can be made better, results could be obtained faster. He invested considerable resources into her 'education', and so it was that young Mara grew up all but alone in a barely-staffed lab, under a constant regimen of 'vitamins' and 'medicine', supplied with a never-ending stream of knowledge and information; her only human contact was a rare visit from her father, a scant few researchers or guards, and the occasional empath or psychic paid to enhance her mind in ways conventional science could not. Even this was cold comfort, however, as anyone who set foot in the building was under strict orders not to talk to Mara unless absolutely necessary so she could concentrate on her real purpose: designing new and improved tools of crime. From death rays to personal teleporters to battlesuits, she made them all. Old-school and cutting-edge, energy to gravity to good old bullets, she designed a veritable panoply and Hallomen made money hand over fist. Kept docile, driven, and borderline insane as an intended side-effect of her constant "health treatments," the only thing her father could never have predicted was the net effect it was taking on her mind: redundant and parallel in some places, warped and enhanced in others, bit by bit her brain was growing resistant to outside influence. The older she got the more treatment she underwent and the more treatment she underwent the more resistant she became; the more resistant she became the more disquieting her life seemed. Finally, near her 18th birthday, she was resting in what passed for her private room when a lone dragonfly wandered its way through the barred window and caught her eye. To anyone else it wouldn't even have been a remarkable specimen of an insect, but to her the darting little bug was the most beautiful thing in the world: free. Then and there she made up her mind to be as free as the dragonfly was - to escape and feel the wind under her metaphorical wings. Less than a month later, the guards came to wake her and found the room empty, the majority of her research and designs completely destroyed, and a very large sum vanished from her father's own personal bank account. She's managed to stay a step ahead of her father and his goons ever since, figuring Freedom City and its relatively high hero count to be the perfect place to hide out…and test some new designs on her own terms. Personality & Motivation: Mara's more than a little bitter about not having had much of a childhood, and not amazingly socially skilled (which she typically deals with using snark and distrust). When presented with a puzzle or new idea to build she's energized and almost manic as her brain kicks into gear to solve the task at hand. She's very intelligent and highly rational, but a combination of chronic bad sleep and frequent headaches (both side-effects of her altered brain and assorted substances that are even now still washing out of her system) can make her snide and irate...though continuing social exposure and her ongoing relationship are alleviating many of these problems. Given her life so far, she has a fairly intense dislike of criminals. She's softer at heart than she'd ever admit, having an especially strong drive to aid children, but by and large she's more driven by the victimizers than their victims. Powers & Tactics: Mara dabbles in many areas of technology but most of her combat tech is based on spatial distortions, something she developed under her father's thumb but didn't work the kinks out of until she'd escaped. Her devices, her gauntlets especially, are built to warp and fold space to provide any number of effects. Her Datalink power she finds useful, but more for utility than combat; her mind's resistance to outside influence is something she tries to keep well-hidden as her ace in the hole against manipulation. When given half a chance she plans her battles quickly and efficiently, well aware that she relies on her devices and that those devices have limits. Against an obviously inferior foe she might be careless, but against anything or anyone challenging she is methodical and deliberate, striking when she'll have the upper hand and analyzing the situation for any advantage. Complications: Drones: Powers with the 'drone' descriptor only function when Dragonfly can deploy and command her drones. She has a decent but not inexhaustible stock to call up, and if her radio communication to them is cut off they are left with only their most recent instructions and a dog-like AI - which only tells them to finish their current task (to the best of their now-reduced ability) and then return to safety. Enemy: The Hollow Man. When she left she dealt a huge (if sadly not crippling) blow to her father's business, not to mention the very large sum of money she took with her. He wants her back, preferably in good condition, though the longer he has to pretend that the key to his most popular items hasn't vanished the more and more flexible he gets as long as she's alive and her head's in one piece. Hatred: People taking advantage of or endangering children, anyone using the creations she thought up, and to a lesser extent organized crime or high-end weapons dealers. HUD: The power suit device communicates most of its Super-Sense powers through Dragonfly's normal senses, and thus may be lost to the appropriate dazzle or similar sense-impairing attack (eg, all visual senses and Uncanny Dodge are lost when visually dazzled; radio signals cannot be 'heard' if deaf; etc). Legacy: Against her best efforts, some of her creations are still being made here and there, and there are still quite a number of older designs floating around through the underworld. Anyone savvy enough, or connected enough, can link this (often quite lethal or empowering) technology to her. Relationship: With >Jill O'Cure. Responsibility: Mara now owns and runs Hallomen Advanced Experts (HAX), and is responsible for being the boss and keeping the place going and its people employed, not to mention protecting the rather valuable projects and secrets therein. Secret: Identity. Side-Effects: Powerful depressants and some other compounds (like Zombie Powder) react badly with chemicals and conditioning still in Dragonfly's system; depending on the dosage used she'll range from being slightly neurotic (as her sense of identity fights the old conditioning) up to complete if temporary regression to a happy and disturbing little worker bee that almost mindlessly devours any technical projects put in front of her. Suit Lite: Dragonfly's suit, while in choker form, is severely limited in what it can do - generally speaking, it's capable only of the Dimensional Pocket, Force Field, Shield, and Teleport powers. The device is, of course, only Subtle when in choker form and not actively being used. Abilities: 2 + 4 + 2 + 18 + 2 + 4 = 32PP Strength: 12 (+1) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 12 (+1) Intelligence: 28 (+9) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 14 (+2) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24PP Initiative: +10 Attack: +6, +12 Suit Offense Grapple: +7 / +11 Super-Strength Defense: +14/+6 (+6 Base, +8 Shield), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -7/-2/-0 (full defense / force field only / base) Saving Throws: 8 + 7 + 11 = 26PP Toughness: +10/+1 (+1 Con, +5 Protection [impervious 5], +4 Force Field) Fortitude: +9 (+1 Con, +8) Reflex: +9 (+2 Dex, +7) Will: +12 (+1 Wis, +11) Skills: 100R = 25PP Computers 11 (+20)SM Concentration 4 (+5) Craft (Electronic) 15 (+24)SM Craft (Mechanical) 15 (+24)SM Disable Device 8 (+17) Knowledge (Business) 1 (+10) Knowledge (Physical Sciences) 11 (+20) Knowledge (Technology) 8 (+17) Languages 4 (English [Native], French, Japanese, Russian, Spanish) Notice 4 (+5)SM Perform (Stringed Instruments) 10 (+11, +13 Masterwork Instruments) Sense Motive 9 (+10) Feats: 15PP Ambidexterity Benefit (Wealth) 1 Eidetic Memory Equipment 4 (20EP) Fearless Inventor Luck 2 Master Plan Online Research Skill Mastery (Computers, Craft [Electronic], Craft [Mechanical], Notice) Speed of Thought Equipment: 5PP = 25EP 1 + 1 + 1 + 16 + 1 = 20EP Masterwork Double Bass [1EP] Masterwork Violin [1EP] Multitool [1EP] The Warehouse (PL10 HQ) [1 + 1 + 14 = 16EP] An outwardly-unremarkable warehouse tucked away in Greenbank, no local gangs or criminals seem to want to talk about it. Funny, that.... Size: Medium [1EP] Toughness: +10 [1EP] Features: [14EP] Concealed (+10 DC) Computer Defense System (Blast 12) Fire Prevention System Garage Laboratory Library Living Space Power (Communication Link [Dragonfly's suit]) Power System Security System 3 (DC30) Workshop Alternate HQ [1EP] Hallomen Advanced Experts [2 + 1 + 13 = 16EP] A solid, simple lab building in the North End that houses one of Freedom City's newest up-and-coming technology consultant groups, with a little something extra hidden in a sub-basement that's not on the building plans.... Size: Huge [2EP] Toughness: +10 [1EP] Features: [13EP] Concealed (+10 DC) Computer Cover Facility Defense System (Blast 12) Fire Prevention System Laboratory Library Personnel Power System Security System 3 (DC30) Workshop Powers: 9 + 2 + 2 + 98 = 111PP Altered Brain 1.6 (8PP Container [Passive, Permanent], Feats: Innate) [9PP] Immunity 10 (Psionic Effects; Flaws: Limited [1/2 Effect]) [5PP] Quickness 6 (x100, Flaws: Limited [Mental Tasks]) [3PP] Comprehend 1 (Electronics) [2PP] (mutation) Datalink 2 (Mental, 100ft) [2PP] (mutation) Device 24 (120PP Container, Flaws: Hard-To-Lose, Feats: Restricted [Datalink], Subtle) [98PP] (powersuit) A high-tech armored suit capable of warping space to various effects. It requires Datalink to be properly piloted. When not in use it exchanges (via spatial technology and Quick Change) with a solid-looking metal choker that rests at the base of the wearer's neck. Auxiliary Power Array 5 (10PP Array; Feats: Dynamic Base Power, Dynamic Alternate Power) [13PP] BP (Dynamic): Flight 5 (250mph / 1,000ft per Move Action) [8PP] AP (Dynamic): Super-Strength 5 (STR 35 [Heavy Load: 1.5 tons]) [8PP] Communication 5 (radio, 5 mile range; Extras: Area; Flaws: One-Way; Feats: Selective, Subtle) [7PP] Features 1 (Improvised Tools) [1PP] Force Field 4 (Feats: Selective) [5PP] (spatial control) Illusion 1 (Auditory, Visual, 5' radius; Extras: Duration [sustained, free action to maintain]) [4PP] (drone projection) Immunity 9 (Life Support) [9PP] Primary Array 20 (40pp array; Feats: Accurate 3, Alternate Power 6, Precise) [50PP] BP: Blast 12 (Extras: Secondary Effect) [36/40PP] (spatial blast) AP: Blast 12 (Extras: Autofire 1; Feats: Homing, Indirect 2, Split Attack) [40/40PP] (drone beamspam) AP: Dazzle 12 (Visual; Extras: Linked [Nauseate]) + Nauseate 12 (Extras: Linked [Dazzle], Range [Ranged]; Flaws: Sense-Dependent [Visual], Limited [sicken]) [24+12= 36/40PP] (drone strobe) AP: Dimensional Pocket 12 (1250 tons; Feats: Progression [Cargo] 2, Quick Change) [27/40PP] AP: Drain Toughness 12 (Extras: Linked ) + Strike 12 (Extras: Linked [Drain], Penetrating 12 [DMG 24]) [12+24= 36/40PP] (spatial blade) AP: ESP 6 (Auditory, Visual, 20 mile range; Extras: Simultaneous, Action [Free]; Flaws: Limited [reachable by air drone]; Feats: Rapid 1 [10x search speed], Subtle [cloaking; DC26]) Communication 6 (Auditory, 20 mile range; Extras: Area; Flaws: Limited [reachable by air drone], One-Way; Feats: Selective, Subtle) Move Object 2 (STR 10; Extras: Action [Move], Range [Perception]) [26+5+8= 39/40PP] (drone search & rescue) AP: Stun 12 [24/40PP] (taser hand) Protection 5 (Extras: Impervious) [10PP] (armor plating) Shield 8 (Feats: Evasion 2) [10PP] (spatial control) Super-Senses 8 (Analytical Visual Senses, Communication Link [warehouse HQ], Direction Sense, Infravision, Radio Sense, Spatial Awareness [visual], Uncanny Dodge [radio]) [8PP] Teleport 1 (100ft per Move Action, Feats: Turnabout) [3PP] (spatial control) DC Block: ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC16 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Physical) Dimensional Pocket Touch DC22 Reflex Trapped DC20 Will (+1 per round) (escape) Drone Blast Ranged DC27+autofire Toughness (Staged) Damaged (Energy) Drone Strobe Ranged DC22 Reflex Blind +DC22 Fortitude Sickened DC22 Fortitude (recover) Spatial Blade Touch DC22 Fortitude (Staged) Drain Toughness (22 - roll pp) DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Spatial Blast Ranged DC27 Toughness (Staged) Damage (Energy) Taser Hand Touch DC22 Fortitude (Staged) Dazed/Stunned/Unconscious Abilities (32) + Combat (24) + Saving Throws (26) + Skills (25) + Feats (15) + Powers (111) - Drawbacks (0) = 233/250 Power Points

(GM Post) Remote Laboratory Facility, Mountains, Sweden, Europe Monday, November 11, 6pm Local Time Anyone who knew Baron Katastrof wasn't truly shocked at what had happened. The man was methodical, safety-conscious, detail-oriented when needed, and demanded rigorous testing standards. He was also young, hideously intelligent, occasionally obsessive, and had a near-fanatical need to prove himself "worthy", not just of his place as head of his father's company, but also his place as a "super-scientist" in a world already brimming with them. Miss Americana had heard he'd been on the polar expedition to the remains of the Curator's ship. Archetech had had representatives there, and the Doctor himself had teleconferenced in. It wasn't known to the world, but basically everyone who had high-end scientific know-how and the trust of most of the world had been there. The place was a near-literal goldmine of data, materials, and technology samples. There'd been so many "dead" Curator drones you could practically build an office building out of them, and they were physically intact. Everybody had taken quite a few home, and Katastrof and Sorenson Technologies was no exception. They'd been careful, of course; all the Curator tech was set up in a couple of isolated lab buildings in the mountains, purpose-built a few years ago for handling "dangerous samples". The two sites were connected by 1 single tunnel with multiple security doors, and each site had internal and external airlocks, negative-pressure air systems, and a whole host of other standard and esoteric features. In the last couple of months, the primary site (where all the actual tests occurred, rather than storage at the connected site) had even received an extra dose of security in the form of magical wards, with the secondary site slated to receive them in a few weeks, thanks to discrete efforts from some contact or another of the Baron's. Which was all well and good, until one day every drone in the secondary site woke up and started moving on their own power, and suddenly the evacuation was underway and complete within 20 minutes. The staff was all set to use the emergency measures (which was to say, special explosive charges that would reduce both complexes to ash-filled holes in the mountain without disturbing anything else) when they realized one critical thing. The Baron had visited that morning and was not outside. That was Friday. On Sunday, the company had had no success penetrating the even-more-upgraded security, and, not wanting the matter to make regular public news (and thus strike a terrible blow against the reputation of KST), they made a couple of discrete calls. Which was why a small group of intelligent, talented heroes who focused on metal and wire technology found themselves standing on a tarmac at the foot of a mountain, the sun sinking below the horizon, and armed guards standing nervously to one side.

OOC thread for Miss A, Dragonfly, and Harrier going to help the Baron out after he gets in too deep thanks to SCIENCE!!! >Here is the IC thread. Feel free to ask questions. If you want to have made a check or two beforehand, let me know, and I'll tell you what might have worked out.

Thursday, November 28th "How's the oven looking, Vince, dear?" Gina Espadas called as she pushed her wheel chair into the front room of her family's home, lap piled with brown and orange seasonal decorations which she began placing about the shelves and cabinets. In the adjoining kitchen one of the most advanced human-designed artificial intelligences on the planet native to that era interpreted data from a webcam jury-rigged to a computer monitor yellowing slightly with age to gauge the temperature inside the closed oven opposite it with precision worthy of laboratory testing. To an outside observer, however, an enthusiastic man wearing a cameo pattern apron over a bright green suit appeared on the monitor, raised a comically long telescope to his eye and snapped a salute as he shouted back, "Operation Bird is the Word proceeding full steam ahead, General Ma'am sir!" "Sure, you she trusts with the turkey," Erik Espadas sighed with exaggerated ire as he methodically worked his knife up and down on the cutting board, rapidly turned fresh vegetables into piles of thin slices. Sweet and hot peppers alike joined a bowl of other ingredients as the chef briefly looked over his shoulder to grin at the monitor. "To be fair, Jack-O," Vince countered, pulling a firefighter's helmet and an extinguisher out of virtual space, "you've set a lot more things on fire than I have." "Don't set things on fire, please," came an earnest requests for waist height as the precocious Yolanda set out plates and cutlery at the table with deliberate precision. The stout eight year old scampered back to the counter to retrieve another stack of dishware, moving with the care of someone entrusted with a precious cargo indeed. "Careful, Yoyo, don't carry too many at once," Ellie cautioned as she returned from retrieving the last of the folding chairs from the attic, one tucked under each arm. Pulling them open, she set them down in front of the place settings before inhaling through her nose. "Mm. Alright, that does smell pretty fantastic." Her mother finished arranging a trio of small gourds on the end table next to the couch in the front room and rolled over to the window to peer outside. "Well it had better! Everyone should be arriving soon."

Friday, September 6th, 2013 Mara's Warehouse, Greenbank "....can't be right. Can't be." Mara Hallomen looked wide-eyed down at Puppy, her food forgotten in its bowl on the counter. The young woman had taken a rare day off from her job at HAX to work on some personal projects - one of the perks of being the boss - and had been idly sifting through some data while she sat in her kitchen getting a snack. Now, snack time was over; she suddenly had a lot of work to do, and no time to do it. A quick thought had her computer dialing one Ellie Espadas, as Mara started frantically digging through the racks and bins of parts in her warehouse. "Ellie? I...need your help. It...mmmh, capacitors capacitors capacitors...." She sounded stressed, which was normal, but also almost frantically concerned, which was not. "....there, yes. Sorry. Really really really need your help."

The mid-March weather was warming up just enough to make being outside bracingly brisk rather than an invitation to numbness and a lingering ailment. Wildlife had begun to return and become active again, the still largely bare trees home to more chirping birds than layers of snow. As he adjusted the sizeable pack slung over both shoulders and trekked further into the Wharton State Forest, Erik Espadas had a moment of unusual introspection and reflected that the gradual thaw wasn't dissimilar to the slow return to normalcy after his sister's kidnapping by the cosmic villain known as the Curator and eventual rescue. Then again, the wide eyed infant strapped into a harness across the dusty brown haired fencer's chest was a potent reminder that the normal of the day was a far cry from what normal had looked like a year before. He hadn't been camping since well before he'd taken up the heroic identity of Jack of all Blades but given the connection the mother of his child shared with the natural world, it was something they'd intended to do for a while. In the fallout of what the media had insisted on titling the Day of Wrath, however, he'd been reluctant to let Ellie too far out of his sight and had ultimately dragged not only her but her girlfriend and their adopted younger sister along as well. "C'mon, ladies," he called over his shoulder. "Almost there! ...I think."

A pair of Masks in civilian guise casually strode through the doors of HAX's Hanover headquarters, each with a small arsenal on their person. The male was a tired-looking twentysomething, with a couple of day's stubble and a mop of sandy brown hair hanging to the nape of his neck. He wore a loose, baggy black coat over a thick sweater and cargo pants. Beneath them, he wore a belt with a small arsenal of shuriken, a collapsible four foot long taser, and a handful of more advanced items. The female was slightly shorter and less disheveled looking, dark hair pulled up in a ponytail. She wore a plain white blouse over black slacks, with a battered looking leather jacket atop it all. She was less heavily armed, with nothing but an extendable metal rod tucked into one of her boots, and a belt around her waist with a control panel slung off to the side and hidden by the jacket. "I think this is where she works..." pondered Chris Kenzie, casually looking around the foyer. "Think, Kenzie? Could you be somewhat clearer?" came the exasperated reply of Liz Lawlett beside him. "Does she even know we're coming?" Geckoman waved one hand airily. "Maybe. I've been busy." At which point, unbeknownst to them, their hardware triggered the alarm systems.