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Near Calavera Cantina 1st September 21:00 CDT, 20:00 EDT Every city had a place like this, a place where people hadn't passed on peaceful and the living feared to tread. Those who knew where to look might be able to find a door to a cantina that served the most exclusive clientele. One of that clientele walked through the quiet streets of Freedom City, without any fear from the streets she was transversing. To be fair since she'd returned to the city Lucy Harker, who very rarely went by the name Revenant, didn't really fear anything. In fact, she was pretty excited for the chance to meet up with her friend Nicola that recently moved to another city, and whilst phones were fine it always nice to meet in person. And thanks to both of their unique status they could use this mysterious cantina to meet up easily to catch up on things.
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September 4th, 2017, 10.45AM Atlantis, The First Circle, 4 1/2 miles beneath the surface The Tethys slid into the dock, great arms reaching out of the glittering darkness to hold it fast. Hundreds of meters from bow to stern, the craft was Atlantis' principal ambassadorial ship, made to resemble a stylized whale. For the last two hours it had made the lengthy, swift passage to the Wizard's Rest, carrying diplomats and representatives from dozens of nations, organizations and interests. Among them were the supremely British extradimensional envoy Lord Steam and Dol-Druth the Speaker, face of an alien hivemind. The lounge door opened, admitting Ventures Lina and Atherus. Lina spoke first, saying gravely "We have arrived, thank you for you patience." Uniformed in deep blue, metallic green and silver, the Atlantean envoys looked nigh-identical in their space-age fibers and short-cropped black hair and closed green eyes. Lina tapped a crystal on her left bracer, at which the disembarkment hatch opened up across the lounge's outer wall, letting down a ramp 80 feet down to the dock below, up which a squad of Atlantean soldiers and a blonde woman in flowing red metal began to walk. There were murmurs and the discreet snapping of photos as the shining expanse of Atlantis, city of science and sorcery, lay revealed. At first blush, it strongly resembled great rings of luminescent sea coral. Envoy Lina gestured politely to the approaching party "Princess Thetis will escort you to the Palace of Poseidon, where you will have a chance to rest and refresh yourselves after your long journey. Atherus and I will accompany you and ensure you see all you wish and go where you will. Please collect your personal items before you leave, the Tethys may be called into action and we do not wish for you to lose anything, should the vessel be damaged." The surfacers wasted no time, many hurrying to their cabins while others collected the luggage that had never left their side. Dol-Druth snorted, heaving his enormous, corpse-white bulk to his feet, his eyes flashing faintly blue as he called on some of the shared brainpower of his people to complete the process. He had carried nothing with him but a small all-metal suitcase. "A hospitable people, Lord Steam," he remarked, turning his cold black eyes and twitching his antennae in the direction of the oncoming Atlanteans "we suspect they will want a great deal in return. Your thoughts?"
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It was a sad truth that even superheroes had to do their nightly chores, particularly if said heroes were also small business owners, and parents of an ever expanding brood of small children. So whilst the kids may have been a bed the adults of the espadas household had their labors yet before them. Dishes to be done, toys to be stowed before the morrow brought a new and exciting minefield of small and startlingly share bits of plastic artfully concealed beneath princess dresses and costume capes, the life of quiet domesticity that kept the whole household running. Of course for the Interceptors, such moments were never long enough. In a cloud of hellfire and sulphurous smoke a small bundled folio appeared on the kitchen table, the magical signature of it's arrival familiar to Erics metamagi senses, Raina's young demonically inclined companion. Atop the parcel a hasty note, I'm safe and I'll tell you all about it soon. Tonight has been Bananas. You need to see this right away though. Raina the handwriting easily recognizable as was the passphrase the teen had insisted was far from cool but that's she'd use in an emergency if Talya promised not to let any of her friends ever see it. The folder itself was heavy for its size, the paper within clearly of sturdy stock. The exterior printing was much like the interoffice mailers used before everything went electronic, Talya would recognize it's pedigree as even older. Printed across the most recent delivery line read, To: Captain Browning C/O Raina Sanderson [eyes only] From: Major Redacted
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It seemed there was still some measure of justice in the world, despite all evidence to the contrary in the life of one Raina Sanderson recently of Claremont Academy. Winterfold was THE underground sensation of the decade, at the least of the moment and really that mattered far more in the cutthroat world of high school. The exclusive concert experience was renowned equally for it's rumored a-list guest list as much as it was for it's unique and secretive musical stylings. In a world where every up and coming band flooded the streaming sites with samples, concert footage, and behind the scenes not so exclusives, Winterfold was an enigma, allowing no recordings, publishing only rare stills of energized crowds in packed small venue or pop up concert halls. Top celebutantes would hint at having seen a show, breathlessly describing the scene in vibrant glowing praise before obliquely adding ,"Or so the rumors go." a small nod to the secretive groups mystique. So the fact that Raina had just won an exclusive invitation for herself and a few friends was to say the least good fortune. And better than that, none of those snobs from Next-Gen had gotten anywhere near it despite best efforts of fame, wealth, or 'harmless' exploitation of powers. This was social gold for any teen. With the concert venue in riverside and her own access only revealed the day of the event she had scant time to gather her friends and soon they found themselves before the doors of the small riverside dancehall with the other elite guests. The doorman checked her against a small delightfully vintage printed list and swung the door open slowly granting them entry to a vestibule where another fit young man stood waiting to collect any and all electronic devices before they'd be granted entry.
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September 2017 Freedom City They'd tried to fool Aquaria. The Freedom League had called her in to consult about a tribe of Deep Ones passing through a city on the East Coast. She'd told them the truth as far as she could tell; that the tribe passing through was small and isolated, hunter-gatherers rather than would-be conquerors. They'd probably take what food they could find from undersea and then move on. That had been enough - they'd let her go back with the promise that these Deep Ones would be unmolested. They hadn't told her out loud what she was looking at, not in so many words, but she knew the bottom of Great Bay readily enough. A Deep One tribe was here, right here - and so familiar! It was late in early September, in the middle of the long Labor Day weekend, when Sea Devil dived into Great Bay and swam deep, her armor open to the sea around her. It was, it would always be, like coming home. She'd let Jessie stay home for this one, buried deep in her studies. This was something she had to do all by herself...
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August 2017 The Antarctic Circle Archetech Antarctic #006 (Outside Temperature -50 F) (Outside Sky Dark) "Okay, ladies, you are officially past the Antarctic Circle!" The Archetech copilot had been quite solicitous to Dragonfly and Jill O'Cure once she'd learned it was the two superheroines' first visit to Antarctica. "Welcome to the Real Down Under!" Keri Russet's Australian accent was thick; she'd worked for the Australian Antarctic Division before being hired on by Archetech as a helicopter pilot. She grinned, her head ducked low in the cramped confines of the back of the helicopter. On the one hand, the electrically-driven helicopter was a technological marvel, big as a Chinook but faster, with an engine specially modified to work in the extreme cold of the Antarctic winter. On the one hand, it was a helicopter with a passenger compartment about the size of a small bus, and Ellie and Mara had been riding in it since they'd taken off from in Rio Gallegos around the beginning of their subjective night. That had been after the connecting flight from Buenos Aires, and that had been after flying down from Freedom City. It had been a long couple of days. "With the winds the way they are and with these new engines, we're about two hours out of Ellsworth Base, so you might as well get comfortable," she offered to the two costumed heroes. "Things are a bit rugged down there - and I should know, Keith and I are gonna bunk down there till you fly out again." The pilot, a deep-voiced man with a Nigerian accent, was still up front. "You ladies must be pretty special," she added cheerfully, "you earned Keith and me both triple-pay for flying you in in the middle of winter! I'm gonna take my kids to Disneyland when this is done." The message had come for Dragonfly by long-distance text, a legacy of the tightened bandwidth at an Archetech temporary base in Antarctica at the height of the Antarctic winter. "URGENT AID NEEDED: TECH PROBLEM - MA. CONFIDENTIAL. PERSONAL PROBLEM - C." Miss Americana hadn't been around much during that summer, and come to think of it neither had Harrier, having left word with the Interceptors that he was going to be out of communication until the holiday season. Once they'd passed certain tests to prove it was a real message, had come the instructions for how to get where they were going - an Archetech "geological base" (according to their website) located in the heart of Antarctica's Ellsworth Mountains. In winter.
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August 10th 9:12PM The Music Room at Claremont Academy. Corinne was following Winifred's advice. While it wasn't her primary passion, it was something else she could do to vent, and maybe make some connections that weren't on shared experience of powers, and teenage trauma. She was an okay drummer, given that she needed to keep so this was more for fun than anything else. Fortunately there was a drum kit here, where she could cut loose. Fortunately, she could play enthusiastically and not have to be something out of Whiplash, or something like that, as she was largely self taught, still 'I Want You to Want Me,' was fun and engaging enough for her to start on before she tried more complicated, or challenging options. She had big headphones on playing the song she wants , and a sleeveless t-shirt for the band Red Fang, a pair of denim capris, and navy blue dock shoes. Her head bobbing along with the beat. Unlike her other pursuits this was just fun. And she needed it.
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Thaelia looked down at Koa, the scrawny youth's stature hid an impressive might from what she had been told. Impressive enough to rival a barbarian warlord, royal, or even herself. A fact that made Claremont Academy the location most uniquely suited into helping the youth better learn the use of his abilities. For his safety, and the safety of others. Still, she was surprised when the senate came forward with the request for her to pull some strings to enroll into Claremont Academy. Not that the administration ever needed much convincing in shaping the superpowered youths of the future. No, it was the fact that she was even on speaking terms with the Atlantean Senate that surprised her. Not everyone was mind controlled that day, and the image of an Atlantean princess going against Atlantis was hard to forget. "There is much to be done. The examination of your abilities in the Doom Room is first item on our agenda. I will have words with the administration in the meantime, do take care to not accidentally maim another student." The Atlantean demigoddess was attempting to be reassuring. To an outsider her words may have potentially carried a sort of insensitive bit of bluntness. Or just insanity. After all, it wasn't every day someone mentioned maiming in a school context.
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Saturday, September 9, 2017 3:06 AM The Witching Hour Lantern Hill at the best of times was rarely a lively place, yet in the darkness of the night even the dead slumber silent and still. The moon casts a cold light upon the landscape, dispelling the mists and shadows, though not all. There are places its light does not touch, and here the night creatures flit from their hidden crevices into the open world beyond, free from the beings who walk the streets by day. Dogs roam the alleyways in packs, snouts turned to the ground in search for food. Cats tiptoe high above on fences and roofs, glowing eyes watching in a predatory light. And rats scurry in the sewer and secret passageways, peeling back layers of wood and board with gnawing teeth. Once stately things, the old Victoria-era manors lay empty along one road in Lantern Hill, overlooking Freedom City in their lots overgrown with weeds and the dead husks of trees. The roofs are patchworks of missing shingles and dead leaves, brickwork turned to rubble and paint hanging in tatters from the foyer, brown from age, swaying sleepily in the breeze, and in the quiet of the night a lone feline perches on a chimney top. It pauses midway from licking its paw and twists in place to look up. Another figure streaks a silhouette against the purple sky. High above the stillness of the ground, the icy winds buffet her armor but she heeds that no mind, snugly ensconced in steel. Instead, her mind flows in equations and derivatives, codes and images and meanings and symbols, all blurring into one and another to form a mess of thoughts. But she lets the cold air in, and the chill drags her awake, forcing her focus better than a mug of espresso. Absentmindedly, she scans her surrounding area, aware of both physical and magic happenings yet all is silent and still. Even magic needs to sleep.
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Morley's Pub September 16th, 2017, Saturday @ 2100 Maxie walked into Morley's and smiled at the already gathering crowd. He needed this, needed some time to relax, even if he was being forced into his superhero get up. He remembered thinking idly that He was rarely ever in it when doing actual heroing, as it always seemed to catch him by surprise, but he had to admit he cut a dashing figure in an all leather black biker outfit with flames stitched into them up the arms and legs. It was early still, around 9 PM and so the place hadn't quite filled out yet. The entertainment on the docket today was billed as Super Hero Appreciation Karaoke Night. Apparently the heroes of the city were supposed to show up in their digs and sing some for the crowd and their fellow do gooders. This sounded like an excellent idea to Maxie, aka: Spitfire. He had spent most of his life as a performer, a carnival fire breather to be exact but crowds were all the same. They just wanted a good show and Maxie knew just the song to give them that good show. Seeing that the crowd wasn't quite big enough yet, though, he decided to wait. He walked up to the bar, greeting the patrons as he went. Most did not recognize him personally, he was relatively new in town, again. But they recognized a hero get up when they saw one and offered praise and claps on the back as he made his way to the bar. "Laphroaig Triple Wood, if ya got it please. If not, any Scotch of 12 years or older should do. As long as it's single malt! That blended stuff is atrocious." Max smiled as the drink was handed to him and took a long deep sniff of the alcohol. Drinking scotch was a lot like drinking wine, you had to do it right. You had to acclimate your senses to the smell so the alcohol wouldn't overwhelm the flavors. Recognizing the peaty aroma of the triple wood, Max closed his eyes and let out a slow happy sigh. This was gonna be a good night.
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GM The Eclipse Night Club September the 9th, 23:30 The Eclipse night club was booming to industrial Gothic Beats, an effective repetitive sound of limited musicality and excessive passion. Aortic Valve where playing and had been expressively forbidden from any self-harming blood throwing antics. On another night, this might not be the case, but the Eclipse did, from time to time, open its doors to the 16-18 age bracket with clear parameters for acceptable behaviour. Gotta Gotta Gotta, Gotta Gotta Gotta, Gotta Gotta Gotta Slash the Pash....ion! sang the leader Singer of Aortic Valve, Verity Vein, dressed in slashed up leathers and black make up. A bit too little of the former, a bit too much of the latter. She sang in a voice that alternated from drone to scream and was really rather effective. And 'twas on this night that Bird of Arms was out partying. And the place was packed. Not just with the 16 and 17 year olds, but older adults too. Alcohol was not served, but a frenzied spirit was, and in copious quantities. Rob the Troll was enjoying the show. He was six foot six and hideously ugly, not helped by a broken nose and scar that ran down his face bisected by an eye patch. His arms were as thick as most peoples legs, if not thicker, and he had tattoo's on (it seemed) every square foot of his skin. Rob the Troll kept the peace in the Eclipse, and such was his reputation that he could do it by reputation alone. However, with Bird of Arms here, his reputation and indeed his skill might not suffice. He sidled up to Bird of Arms as Slash the Passion finished (to much applause and screaming). "No trouble from you tonight, you hear?"
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September 2017 Bedlam City Corinthian Riverboat in the Babylon District 11:00 PM Declan floated high above the Manitowoc River, gazing down at the Corinthian riverboat Casino. The lights from the riverboat danced on the river, tantalizing passersby with promises of wealth, if one was lucky enough to hit it big. While not as big, or as high profile as it's counterpart, the Heart of Dixie, it did offer something to those of lower station and less than stellar reputations: availability and anonymity. It's the kind of place that looks glitzy and high cotton, but in reality was just another low rent mob front in an already low rent town. The mob in question that owned and operated this particular den of iniquity was called the Scarpias mafia family, and Declan had tracked some of those he believed to be responsible for his death to this place. When he was alive, he had only visited this place once, and didn't stay long as he got pretty drunk and was summarily thrown overboard. That life seemed so long ago now, almost like it belonged to someone else. Perhaps it was a side effect of his being a ghost, he thought, perhaps he was just an echo of what he had been, a soulless revenent sent to exact revenge. He wasn't sure if he believed that, because when he watched Victoria, he still felt that love, and that pain for having left her. Declan shook his ethereal head and descended slowly towards the riverboat. He had come here for a purpose. He had come here for answers. Mostly, he had come here for revenge.
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August 6th, Claremont Campus. Afternoon-ish, and the day after. Yesterday had been innocuous enough. Until Bombastic had picked a fight with Corinne over her 'cold shouldering.' Well, it wasn't a fight. She had not been overly aggressive, but he had asked for it. Fortunately while out of sight from the Next Gen, as she was still summer schooling it. But... Zenith had to spend time in the containment units, until she was... calm. As Corinne she was... upset. Though she avoided Bombastic, so she wouldn't change in a fit of pique. She buried herself in stuff, practicing with drumming, some schoolwork. Then, finally just the gym. Dancing and gymnastics. It was like meditation for her. A place to go, something to submerge herself in. Which she did, in a manner that could be considered ferociously, until she was sweaty, and a bit tired, and going through additional stretched, if not to cool down, but rather to ready herself for round two. Dressed in just a pair of shorts, and an athletic top, with toe shoes, and her hands and fingers taped up for her to do what she felt was needed. Corinne was in the splits pose, her torso twisted and stretched out along, her hands gripping at the sole, with her face pressed her knee.
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May 24th. 3:30PM Claremont Gymnasium She had moved her things in, she had a lot of things, but she had paired down to what she would need for the upcoming summer. And Percival. Who was essential, and adorable. The she'd be getting after she found one. It was awkward. Hannah got to meet Corinne's folks, and brother. Who were lovely people, though her brother was exactly the younger 12-year old bro one would imagine him to be. Once it was all sorted, and her folks were gone after taking both girls out to what was mucho, mucho Thai food, Corinne announced, in their room, she needed to go to the gym and work out, and she invited Hannah along so that she could get some limbering and practice in. This was of course meaning she was wearing one of the gymnast long sleeved leotards that hid nothing, dark blue with red-orange trim and matching stylized lightning bolt with a lighter blue underscore. She threw a towel around her shoulders, and a pair of white ankle high Converses before she dragged along the other girl to the Gym. "I got to loosen up, and so do you. And don't worry, you've got a better build than I do. I'm like... seventy maybe ninety-six percent leg, and that causes so many problems, like it took be years to get basic tumbles right. Pizza, or milkshakes will be our reward! Or both!" Of course she had performed an impromptu Gene Kelly-esque routine between the dorms and this building, so how much needed to stretch and limber up may be a bit of a lie. Still once there, the tall blonde immediately set about working through some basic yoga poses and others, after her shoes were shucked and she was on the mat.
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June 20th, 2017 Claremont Corinne was dancing in the main quad. Not just lightly, mind you. It was a full routine, as she practiced unconcerned about how she might look. Wearing sport earbuds, she closed the world down to just her and what she was doing. Wearing a pair of retro sneakers, with high ankles, a patterned white and blue pair of harem pants, and a patterned t-shirt that matched the pants. She was not a delicate type of person, so her dancing reflected that. Corinne felt she wasn't as good at precise, technical dancing. She also believed what a lot had told her regarding her size hindering her. So she tried hard. Harder than anyone else. She was a perfectionist, and held herself to an ideal, a pinnacle that she might not be able to reach, or, if she did, maintain. But what she believed, and what the realities were divergent. Corinne Conrad was one of the best dancers in her prior school, She showed that now. Her leaps, the arching of her body straddling the line of violent and precise. She was not aware of having a visitor. Or that somewhere in the middle of what she was doing, practicing and working through a routine she hoped to earn her spot in Julliard with, that somewhere in the middle she started to use powers to move on air.
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August 14, 5:46 PM Main Quad, Claremont Academy The boy, sitting on the dorm's roof, looked below, watching his peers: some were walking around normally, others where using more... peculiar means of movement. A lot of them tough, were wearing the blue and gold colored school uniform, like Eli himself was. "I still can't get used to this bright uniform, it's so... four color..." said the pale, lanky Erebo looking at it. Part of him liked it, but something about his mind wasn't right since the accident, and he knew it. He hoped it was just his imagination, and not the dark energies infecting his thoughts... he had heard so many terrifying things about the place where he got his powers from since he came to that world. "This is so unbelievable" he sighed full of incredulity. He could not believe that just a few days before he was stuck between a family that hated him for his passions and a world that hated him for his family. No, no more, he said shaking his head to clear it: it was time to be a hero now, this power wasn't a curse, it was an immense gift, one Grazia made sure her little brother could receive in spite of everything. That did not mean he did not have to be weary of what his power could do to him tough. With a thought, his body was covered by the blackest shadows one could imagine, shaped roughly like his favorite turtleneck'd casual attire, and a pair of large, crow-like wings sprouted from his back, carrying him to the campus grounds below and then folding back into nothingness. What a time to be alive...
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GM Bayview Mall Bayview Freedom City, New JerseyThursday November 19th, 2015 6:00 PM Cathy's attempt at a shopping excursion found itself short lived. Before the albino looking girl could even step inside the mall she was sprayed by water. Nearby police cars raced by the teen, their sirens blaring, without so much as an apology. The cold water soaking her body made the umbrella in her hand feel like a seemingly useless accessory. As she looked out into the street, Cathy could tell the police were erratically racing in the same direction. Hinting to some sort of trouble in the city. If not some sort of rain caused traffic accident. If she were so inclined, the moisture in the air could make following after the police an easy task for the ice controller. But, the option of leaving it to the FCPD and going inside for a change of clothes was also on the table.
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"That should be enough folding chairs for everyone," Gina Espadas judged from the doorway to the kitchen, doing a mental tally of the guests they were expecting for the umpteenth time that afternoon, making sure that they had enough of everything. The kitchen itself had proven too small for their needs this year so a pair of table had been moved into the living room and placed end-on-end with an assortment of wicker-backed chairs and their folding metal cousins, made more hospitable with mismatching cushions. She shot her son a dry look. "Sure you don't want to spring any last-minute additions on me?" "Can I help it if you raised me to be respected and well like by my peers?" Erik quipped easily, slipping past her wheelchair with an armful of cutlery sets wrapped in cloth napkins. He didn't believe for a moment that his mother was actually upset to be hosting a particularly full house for Thanksgiving this year and she didn't bother trying to sell the thin veneer of grumpiness any further, either. "Bird's looking good and we've got enough to go around even before what everyone else is bringing. Now if only Ellie and Mara would bring the extra plates down from the upstairs closet instead of making out!" He raised his voice to carry to the second floor with the last part, causing Yolanda to groan in protest from where she helping to tidy up the rest of the room for company. "Min and Talya will be over with the girls any minute and everybody else knows the score. Smooth sailing." The elder Espadas snorted in vague comment, giving the back of his head a narrow look. "They seem to be getting along well. Min and Talya, that is. Since she's been back." Erik paused briefly before resuming what he was doing. "I feel like you're trying to say something there." "What would I be trying to say?" "I... don't know?" Gina simply made a humming sound before wheeling about and heading back into the kitchen to keep an eye on the turkey.
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160 years later, the time portal no longer absorbed or radiate visible light. But it glowed like a torch at the higher and lower end of the spectrum - standing out like brightest day to Miss Americana and Dragonfly on their arrivals, and in fact putting out so much radio waves that the former couldn't get very close without the risk of losing connection to her controller. For those with normal eyes, the strip mall parking lot in the West End was quiet and still - any eyewitnesses to any recent events at this location had either fled the premises or were in hiding.
