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GM Disclaimer: this thread will have politically incorrect white 'nationalist' villains that get punched in the face. No one writing here agrees with the very few things these idiots will be spouting. DJ Eclectic's concert was in need of a venue and Moira loved the idea of live music. Especially when it helped the local talent out! So posters were plastered all over the city. Every pole had at least one. Friday, June 16th. 9PM. Morley's pub. West End. Free admission." Below that was in a smaller font was the address. Blow that in the same sized font was Two Drink Minimum. White Knight II (Aidan Miller) looked at the poster with a sigh, letting out some curse word when he saw the poster with DJ Eclectic's face on it. "Like why do they even let people like her even work here?" His bodyguard, Big Girl (Mary Forth), and his yes man, Southern Charm (George Kent), nodded in agreement. "I don't know about you two," Aidan said scratching his chin, "but maybe we should make an appearance." George beamed, "like our constituents did with the park play. We could reach a lot of people." Mary grinned and nodded silently. "So, all for one and one for all then," Aidan checked his watch, "we have about four hours. Let's go plan out speech." Later That Evening, 15 minutes before the show DJ Eclectic's crew was setting up the equipment, and there was quite a crowd coming to see her! Moira was tending bar. DJ Eclectic was tending to set up, rehearsing while doing a sound check. Spitfire was conversing with folks in the crowd, being part of the crowd himself.

Freedom City, New Jersey June 20, 2017 Afternoon The man at the big board tapped a button on his control console and spoke into his microphone; on the other side of the soundproofed glass his voice was the only thing that could be heard. "Could we get a sound check, Asli? Just need to check some levels." Asli Saddik stepped up to the mic hanging in the middle of the chamber and licked her lips, leaning in close. "Check check Cyril, one two three four. Seven sniping snakes slipped and slithered up sinuous stairs while Sally and Susy sang stucco shanties. Kill Craig's cat and cripple Katy's kibble caboose. Tip toe and take two tables to taste Tali's tippled tacos." She stepped back and stretched, long arms almost reaching the top of the recording studio. "Those levels look good, Cyril? I don't want to be futzing with equipment all day." Cyril tweaked some knobs and bobbed his head as jerking lines on the screen leveled and smoothed out. "Looks good on our end. Ready to start when you are." He looked reached his hand out to a particular button and then paused, looking over at the other man seated at the big table. Joe Macayle wasn't a regular feature at the Stone Soup recording booth but at least he was smart enough not to touch any of the intimidating array of sliders and knobs on the board that seemed to stretch for a city block. Cyril caught his eye and gave him a mischievous wink. "Ready to see the magic happen?"

For rolls and suchlike, @trollthumper. Speaking of which. Results 10#1d20: 10 # 19 [1d20=19] 16 [1d20=16] 7 [1d20=7] 10 [1d20=10] 3 [1d20=3] 1 [1d20=1] 3 [1d20=3] 16 [1d20=16] 7 [1d20=7] 1 [1d20=1]  Copy pasta: link bbcode

@EviscerusNox and @Raveled The only thing I didn't get answered is where do you want this to be? I suggest in the park. But if you have other ideas. I'm gonna start the whole shebang as soon as I get that answered. The New White Knights (inspired by the old White Knight) rush Miras' concert. The ringleader is all "this is racist against white people!" and is at first doing nothing but spouting stupid ideology, but it turns physical when his 'bodyguards' have to protect him. That's where Spitfire and Miras (and maybe Scion) jump in to take the three bozos down. Simple! Suggestions and corrections if you have em!

June 25, 2016 Joe Macayle's Apartment Dinnertime It was night. If a writer was going to make something dramatic happen, it would have been dark and stormy and rain-washed, but in fact there had just been a light rain this afternoon and now high, ragged clouds were rapidly speeding out to the sea. The evening was proving to be quiet, and pleasant, and Asli was infinitely grateful. A quiet night meant she could enjoy more time with her boyfriend and her boyfriend’s cooking. She put her utensils on her plate and pushed away from the table, sighing in contentment. “That was the best meal I’ve eaten all week,” she said. “If you always cook meals like that, I’m going to start spending the night.” Asli smiled across the table at him, enjoying the moment of quiet domesticity. It was a very different experience than she usually had at the end of the day, and she liked it. She could see herself getting used to it.

June 29th, 2016 McNider Memorial Hospital, Freedom City, New Jersey Afternoon Miras flinched as bullets chewed away at the ceramic tiles at the corner she was facing, chips and shards of pottery slowed and deflected by her magic. The intermittent roar of gunfire echoed and rebounded through the underground parking garage, setting off several car alarms as the terrorist kept the superhero pinned down. After a solid minute of deadly shots the gunfire fell silent; Miras peaked out of cover and noted that the terrorist, a young woman in a bright red tee-shirt, Kevlar vest, and bandanna, was fumbling with her gun. The musical magus didn't know much about guns, but she knew that they eventually ran out of bullets and that this might be her only attempt to talk the other woman down. "This is your best chance to surrender," Miras called out. "You can't win anymore. We found the anesthesia you swapped out with nerve gas, every hospital in New England is checking their supplies. You're pinned down here, and Fast-Forward is upstairs taking care of the last of your super-suit back-up. You're not going to win here, give up and come quietly!" "Shut your bourgeois mouth!" the woman shouted back. "This hospital is a monument to capitalist greed, a place for sick people to be bilked of more money. If the doctors here really cared about people, they'd be out on the street! Saving lives! Not stuck in board meetings arguing for funding." The terrorist loaded another magazine in her weapon and aimed at the pillar that the superhero was hiding behind. "And you really believe that I shouldn't be here, then come out and stop me, pig!" Miras rolled her eyes at the notion and settled in as more gunfire streamed her way. Bullets were a finite resource; she just had to muster more patience.

For rolls and suchlike pertaining to this adventure.

Rolls and suchlike intended for this adventure. We're starting in media res, here. AA, there's just a couple of PL 7 thugs up higher in the building with Crossbones-style super-suits. Lots of punchy, no flying or shooty. Feel free to just narrate how FF lays them out, or we can run a quick fight to start things.

McDuffie Community Center, Lincoln Friday, 27th May 2016, 10 am The area around the edge of Lincoln like most of the area had not seen much attention from the city, plagued as it was by drugs and gang violence. So it was rare that something good came to an area like this, and when it did it was something that should be celebrated. A local business woman made good, one Velvet Chiara, had decided to give back to the community by building this new center. To raise always needed fund as well as help promote this new building she was throwing a party that had attracted local campaigners and the braver politicians, who were as usual followed by a few stalwart reporters. Whilst everyone was in good spirits there was a note of caution all around, it was unlikely an event like this would go down without any trouble. Luckily there were people on hand who had experience of such things...

The OoC for this. Feel free to set you characters up as either being part of the celebration or patrolling nearby for when trouble starts.

Index I. HellQ

OOC thread for this thread. Tag and follow!

Freedom City, Riverside Saturday, November 14, 2015 Noontime Asli Saddik didn’t know how people who drove through the city knew anything. On the train or the bus all the buildings and storefronts were a blur; it’s only when she walked through the neighborhood that she could look into the windows and walk through the store, touch and smell things, talk to the shopkeepers and the other pedestrians. Someone else might choose a store based on the name or a Facebook review, but Asli knew she needed to get down there and peel back the mask. She wasn’t just browsing, though. Today Asli was looking for a very specific gift and she wasn’t at all certain in her judgement regarding it. That’s why she had dragged her roommate along on this walk; Sam could walk her into the ground, after all, and two eyes looking for a tattoo were better than one. They had already passed a few tattoo parlors, but one had been shuttered and skeevy-looking, another one had been manned by stoners who seemed to mostly be working on each other, one had ran her out when she asked for samples… it wasn’t a promising experience. Still, Asli insisted that they press on, check out “a couple more places, Sam. There’s got to be a good one in the city, and damn if I’m going to miss it.” The woman’s eyes were drawn towards a shop that claimed itself to be “IMMORTAL TATTOOS” in all capital letters. The building was clean and there weren’t any bars on the windows. The front was filled with large boards, showing photographs of happy, inked customers and drawn designs. All of the samples were clear and well-done, and the variety on display was staggering. There were so many on display, in fact, that she couldn’t see past them, and Asli found herself seriously tempted. She turned to Sam, gesturing to the window display. “What do you think? Do the look any good?”

January 22nd, 2016 Freedom City, New Jersey Midday It could have been a frog, if. It had the right body shape, all bulging belly and eyes and weirdly spindly legs. It hopped with the same quick, spastic, energetic movements. Its skin had the same wet, shiny look to it. Its tongue was wet and pink and long, slapping out and grabbing at prey and dragging them toward its open, stinking max. It could have been a frog, if it hadn’t been five feet tall. If it hadn’t been heavy enough to crack the pavement where it landed. If it hadn’t been redolent of decay and pestilence and rot and stink. If it hadn’t been black and green and ridged with what looked like rock but smoked like lava. If it hadn’t been slowly advancing on the woman with her trio of yappy dogs. Its tongue shot out like a whip and snared the smallest of them, wrapping around the puppy’s head and slowly, inexorably dragging the animal back to its mouth. It could have been a frog, if it wasn’t ready to swallow the woman whole.

Thursday November 26, 2015 (Thanksgiving) Silberman's Books Sam cursed fluently under her breath as she tried to shuffle the Tupperware container full of stuffing from one arm to the other in order to free up a hand, without losing her grip on the bakery-bought pumpkin pie. After a moment of precarious positioning she gave up, and with a surreptitious glance around her, summoned a small tendril of shadow which obligingly held the pie for her, allowing her to unlock the door and enter the store. For the first time in her life, she had found herself in surprisingly high demand as a dinner guest. Both her employer Lynn and her roommate Asli had made plans involving her and Thanksgiving dinner, and since this didn't exactly happen to her too often, she hadn't wanted to disappoint either party, resulting in the plans being merged. Asli's apartment was far too small to host several people plus a large dinner, so they were congregating at Lynn's place instead. Asli was with her, of course, and had mentioned inviting someone else that Sam hadn't herself met. The whole thing was creating a decidedly surreal atmosphere for Sam, who had spent all of her previous thanksgivings either nibbling halfheartedly on a turkey dog or high as a kite. Celebrating the occasion by sitting down to an actual feast with her peers was a new experience for her, but she was determined not to show it. She pushed through the door, transferring the pie from the tendril of darkness - which vanished instantly - to her hand. "Hello? We're here!"

One advantage to living in a former industrial zone was that Miras knew plenty of buildings that no one cared about. Her magic had made it child’s play to get inside, and she had spread around a few pillows and unfolded cardboard boxes; she couldn’t afford to buy any amount of gym mats, so this would have to suffice. The hardest part of everything had actually been getting word out to Kingsnake that she was ready for their session. The man had been infuriating when they were forced together by mercenaries and key witnesses and runaway trains. Kingsnake was skilled at fighting, but his methods had left a lot to be desired. Miras couldn’t just let him walk away, so she decided to give him a talk about how to handle a fight like that. In the meantime, though, she could probably stand to learn a thing or two from Kingsnake. Being able to move faster than an eyeblink handled a lot of problems but eventually she needed to know how to hit someone properly. Miras’s normal robes were hardly suited for a fistfight, so she had reconfigured her usual outfit into something more bare; a hooded green jacket that reached to her waist, loose white trousers and black boots and gloves. She paced around the room, bounding from one foot to the other as she waited for Kingsnake. Part of her was regretting setting this whole situation up. Who was she to lecture this other hero how to fight? Sure, he liked being scary, but so did Raven and Foreshadow and Arrowhawk -- and those were all heroes. On the other hand, she kept coming back to the memory of him letting the plane crash with the paralyzed soldier in it. He had been willing to let that vehicle go down with the mercenary in it, and only Miras’s quick thinking had saved the man. As she tried to use that memory to motivate her, a small voice kept reminding her that the soldier wouldn’t have been paralyzed if it hadn’t been for Miras’s magics...

I didn't see an OOC thread, so I made one. I'm assuming that Kingsnake took 10 on the Gather Info check with Well-Informed to hit DC25 on Miras's reputation table. Kingsnake takes 10 with Skill Mastery to get a DC25 Stealth check. If she doesn't meet that, then she's surprised when he starts talking. He takes 10 with Skill Mastery on Sense Motive checks, hitting DC30, and Miras's Bluff, Diplomacy, and Intimidate get cut down to +6, +5, and +2 (respectively) when used on him, so he's functionally immune to any of her interaction skills.

For all rollz and the like influencing this right here.

For rolls and such related to >this amazing adventure.

Saturday, September 26th, 2015 5:49 PM Joe stood across the street, looking at the restaurant, wondering if he was even doing this right. It wasn't like he hadn't been on dates. He'd had a few - more than a few - relationships. It was just that things were... busy, for the most part. And he tended to throw himself into his work. And his hobbies. Especially his hobbies. Said hobbies including going out at night and dealing with assholes. This was not the kind of thing that contributed to long-lasting, solid relationships. Erin had been the first to suggest looking for someone within the community. That had been a good idea, but it wasn't like they made Tinder for capes (or if they did, it wasn't like he trusted having such a thing on his phone). But, through some dark magic, Mark had managed to set up a blind date between him and another superhero. Being Mark, the details had either been thin or somewhat exaggerated, but he was still willing to give it a go. There'd been the long debate about what to wear - be authentic, be classy, be "normal," whatever. In the end, he'd settled for going a bit more mod - a two-tone jacket and trousers over a long-sleeve Ben Sherman button-up. He still had the braces and boots, though. There were some things a man had to do. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the street for the restaurant, hoping he wasn't going to screw this one up.

Rolls and suchlike for this thread. Go wild with those Perform checks, Renegade!

GM Post Calcutta, India 1892 AD "... which is why me and my Associates are very displeased with your policies in the Bengali province, Captain Ayres." The man in the red suit said. "We are invested in the proper development of the area, and quite frankly, your policies, appart from brutal, are in conflict with our interests." The man in the blue suit added. "Your objections are noted, gentlemen, I assure you. However, understand that I have to deal with a rebelion here, one incited by Korean spies who would sooner see India burn than have it prosper under Brittish rule. I've always acted on the behalf of the Company's interests, which I was given to understand were YOUR interests as well." Captain Ayres was very upset, but he held on. The men in the suits were hard to deal with, given that they always seemed to be wearing their expressions like a man wears a suit; fittingly, but it was obvious that the clothing was not an actual part of said man. "And that was why you chose to align yourself with Feng Huan Po?" "..." That had hit a nerve. Captain Ayres had taken the utmost of precautions to ensure that whatever dealings he had with Feng Huan Po remained under wraps. "Surely the governor-general isn't very appreciative of your alliance with a follower and representative of the Old Ways." "Feng Huan is... a necessary concession on our part. He ensures that the Chinese will keep to themselves, while also posing a significant threat to the Koreans from attempting an outright invasion." He tried to explain. The expressions of the two men warped, as they tried to imitate concern. "He is more dangerous than you realise, Captain. Feng Huan Po moves in circuitous ways, ensuring that his actions largely remain concealed from our eyes." "It is imperative for our plans that the people of Calcutta, and India in general, enjoy a secure, safe, and prosperous for them enviroment." "If you fail..." "... we will have to take action against you. Even if that means..." "... that the East India Company meets a premature end." "It is our hope that we have made ourselves clear." "If you think... IF YOU THINK THAT I WILL CAVE UNDER YOUR HOLLOW THRE-" "There is NOTHING hollow about our threats, Captain." "As your superiors no doubt have informed you, the Spanish once tried to dare us into action." "You ARE aware of the Battle of Gravelines, aren't you?" "Heed our words, Captain Ayres. You are walking a very thin line as it is." "Do not cross us." "..." The Captain remained further silent, as the two men took their leave. Their warning was clear as a day. However, the Captain remained undeterred in his resolve to proceed with his plans. "If the East India Company is the sacrifice needed to ensure 'our' future... then so be it." He silently mouthed. He knew that forcing the two men into action was tantamount to challenging god's wrath. So that was why... Present Day, Freedom City Tuesday, June 16th, 2015 Midday, 14:35 The tears closed as soon as they opened, and everything they enveloped vanished completely. Sometimes, other random stuff would emerge from those energy swirls. Not only where they fast, the tears appeared at random places, from the City's center to Parkside, from there to Hannover, then the Great Bay, Lincoln, Riverside, Ashton, and Southside. The tears would continuously open and close in each of these areas for approximately an hour, before moving on to another place. This had been going for the better part of the last day, with reports of similar phenomena accross the country. The superhero community were as stumped as the scientific one, about what was going on, much less its cause. Thankfully enough, though, the tears didn't seem to affect humans, so barring a few indirect injuries caused by the odd falling piano, there was very little cause for panic. The news made sure to keep updates of this peculiar phenomenon, keeping the citizens informed of the tears' current emergence location. Last sighted, they'd appeared in Kingston, while for the last 10 minutes, they seemed to start appearing over at West End.

Freedom City, New Jersey December 3rd, 2014 Afternoon It always began with tentacles. That was a lie. It usually began with a poor fool who stumbled on some book that no soul should ever read or even consider. Such books usually had ideas that were not simply intriguing, but were actually infectious. The ideas were impossible to get out of your head, to bury under the everyday and dull with mundanity. They strove to get out, to be expressed, to be birthed into the material world in all their hideous glory. It was one of those hideous glories that burst out of a third-floor window, tearing a hole in the wall as it fell to the street below. It landed with a wet splat and shivered, curling back into itself as it gathered its glutinous mass together again. The creature seemed impossible, a squid-like mess of tentacles that lashed and pulled and moved without any apparent intelligence. Asli Sadik found herself staring at the monster with the rest of the crowd. When the first stirrings of panic swept through everyone else, though, she merely stared up at the hole in the building for a moment, her stomach sinking as realizations piled up all of a sudden. Still, there was an eldritch beast to deal with, first; she put her bag down and stepped forward and shaking her arms free as she gathered her power to her. “Okay, big boy,†she called out, doing her best to get the creature’s attention. “It’s time to leash you back up and take you home.â€