Search the Community

GM The Hunter Museum of Natural History Midtown, Freedom City, New JerseyThursday, December 21st, 2017 1:30 AM Shortly after midnight a roving guard in the the Hunter Museum of Natural history discovered that the World Wart II exhibit had been broken into. Despite the building's nineteenth century roots, its security system was as modern as it came. Which made the fact that the crime occurred without so much as a blip on any of its systems all the more questionable. What made matters worse what that no one on site could identify what was stolen, the criminal having completely erased the listed contents in the museum's possession (signifying an arduous period of work ahead for its curator). Police officers had cordoned off the building as they prepared to conduct their investigation. A decision that both Trevor Hunter and Erick Sloane managed to overhear with their computer's access to the FCPD police feeds. For both parties, it was the first they had even heard of the robbery. The thief( or thieves) managing to avoid even their notice, despite Foreshadow's precognitive abilities or Mignight having direct access to the National History museum's security feed.

January 6, 2014 7:20 AM EST The first ray of sunshine came in the window and Richard Cline opened his eyes, ready for his last day off before they headed back to the West Coast for a full week of shooting. Richard sat up, pushing aside the linen sheets, and looked at the waxed-paper window on the wall of the little wooden house. Ticktickticktick Time slowed to a crawl for Richard Cline, as Fast-Forward took in his changed bedroom with all the time in the world. Linen sheets, featherbed, waxpaper windows, and I think that's a chamberpot under the bed...oh, geez, am I back in the Renaissance again? He looked down at the woman sharing his bed and reached down to gently nudge Paige awake, feeling the familiar brush against his mind that had been part of his soul for twenty-five years. Aw, geez, did I take her back with me again? She's gonna kick my ass after that thing with the Wild West... Ticktickticktick On the handwrought, overlapping planks, there was a woodcut of a man frozen in a blur of motion paired with a smiling woman in a low-cut dress, smoke and fire rising from her hands. Behind them were a young man in equal speed, and a young girl with the same energies as her mother. The legend read CIRCUS OF CRIME, MAGIC, MISCHIEF, AND MERRIMENT! STARRING THE LEGENDARY ROGUES - THE CLINE FAMILY! WITH PASSION PLAYS TO SHOW THE TRUE MORAL WAY! The smell of horses outside, the sounds of activity; a circus in the middle of waking up for the day. It's another goddamned crisis in time! Richard Cline snapped awake alongside an altered version of his wife, dressed in a long black nightdress, and asked the question he had to ask. "...Baby, is that you?"

Friday, June 29th, 2012 8:47 PM It had been a perfectly ordinary evening for the Liberty League. Then someone had to tempt fate. There had been the usual security briefing at the Midnight Manor, with a discussion of movements amongst noted villains, possible security risks, and other matters of importance. Someone had brought up the fact that the Super Museum was doing another wartime theater retrospective, including some of the safer treatises of Lady Celtic. And not fifteen minutes later, the silent alarm had gone off, instructing Midnight and everyone gathered around the table that four people who weren't supposed to were stomping about inside. One teleport by Edge brought the League into the lobby of the Super Museum, the statues of Freedom's fallen looming dark in the night. They could hear traces of movement down the hall. "All right," whispered Cannonade. "What's the plan?"

GM October 10th, 2011 The West End, Freedom City The holiday was in full swing, and the kids of Young Freedom were doing their homework. The Columbus Day Parade was an annual Freedom City tradition. While it was nowhere near the size or intensity of the celebrations in New York City, the city's Italian population regularly congregated upon the West End to celebrate their heritage and the long road to America. Like any other city's celebrations, it had its share of controversies - several aldermen had tried over the years to get the parade officially renamed in the face of protests from Native American groups - but Headmaster Summers had put the fledgling superteam on assignment for a different reason. "The police are often overworked at celebrations like this," he had told Young Freedom, "and sometimes, things escape their notice. Especially when the person moving about has talents that go beyond what the human eye sees. Then there are the opportunists. Most supervillains aren't above a simple hostage situation, and a parade is a good opportunity. While it's hard for a single villain to control a large number of individuals, if they have the right powers, they can net enough to issue demands. Stay on observation. Keep to the fringes of the parade, but move through the crowds when you can. Odds are everything will go smoothly - but if it doesn't, I want you to be the first to notice, and the first to respond." And so, the Claremont students moved through the crowd and outside it, trying to keep a low profile. They were ready for if danger emerged... but maybe Summers was right. Maybe today would go off without a hitch.

The Liberty Dome was packed full of 80,000 hooting, hollering hockey fans, all eager to see the Freedom City Blades take on the New Jersey Devils in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The shivering cold required of the frozen-over floor did nothing to dampen the spirits; there was too much at stake. Like most match-ups between teams representing the same geographical area, this David-vs-Goliath promised to be a grudge match of epic proportions. The Blades were an up-and-coming team of scrappy underdogs who'd managed to claw their way to the top in their first year as part of the NHL, and now they were butting heads against the veterans from their own backyard. Elena Guerrero had reserved a private luxury box, and now she sat inside with her old (older than anyone realized) friend, Rhodes Foundation C.E.O. Sofia Cruz, her husband Bob, and their three children, Alejandro, Emilia, and Esteban. Elena lounged in her seat, almost making it look like a monarch's throne, sipping her lattè and smiling as the children munched on their caramel corn and cheered the Blades on. "What do we say to Aunt Lena for getting us these great seats, mijos?" Bob admonished the kids. They turned to Elena and replied in a chorus "THAAANK YOU," then turned once more to the action down below. Sofia punched Elena playfully on the shoulder, "thinking out loud." So, tell me about this new ladyfriend of yours! Elena cleared her throat nervously. She's...more of an old friend, actually. We've sort of picked up where we left off. It's complicated. Sofia raised an eyebrow. That kind of "complicated?" Elena nodded, a stern look in her eyes. Sofia shook her head and sighed. Well, I hope you know what you're doing. And she must be a special lady if Elena Guerrero was willing to step down off the soapbox and drop $4,000 on a designer outfit just to impress her. Elena and Sofia both laughed. Bob glanced at them quizzically. "You two having another one of your 'telepathic conversations' over there?" Elena and Sofia turned to each other. If he only knew...