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North Bay was very nice, Danica decided as she putted along the edge of the immaculately-paved road past the huge houses, but she definitely wouldn't want to live there. The houses were beautiful and the big old trees and sprawling gardens were probably super nice when the weather was warm, but everything was awfully spread out. Also there were no bus stops because it was a rich area, and there were very few sidewalks, because same. She'd had to find the nearest bus stop and then go on two wheels for nearly a mile to the actual place. Trying to keep her balky old borrowed scooter out of the slushy puddles at the edge of the road and also not get hit by cars was a little bit challenging. At least there wasn't much traffic! She was relieved to finally reach the address and turn down the long driveway. The driveway was pretty cool, lined with tall old trees whose branches arched high overhead and probably made a ceiling when the leaves were on them. It was also immaculately paved, without a pothole or a smidgen of gravel anywhere to be seen. It was also-also a bit of a wind tunnel, making Danica tuck her face a little further down into the scarf she'd wrapped around her neck, over the hood and knit hat she was also wearing. Between that and her sweater and two pairs of pants and puffy coat and mittens, she barely felt underdressed even without her shell on. Still cold, though. Freedom City was always so cold in winter! The Segway did not like the cold, either. It was in much poorer condition than her lost one had been, and was making sad rattling Segway-noises. At the end of the driveway she found a huge old handsome house, even bigger and handsomer than most of the ones she'd ridden past. Attached was a garage that looked like it could fit at least four cars and probably more, with its own little door out front. Ellie had said Mr. Hunter worked out of his garage most of the time, so she headed that way. Carefully dismounting from the Segway of Sadness, she adjusted the straps of her backpack and rang the buzzer by the door.
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September 16, 2016 With the summer months come and gone sundown was coming earlier to Freedom City with each passing day. Even in the dim dusk the lamps flanking the monorail track cast stark shadows on the cement ravine below, the pillars that held the track aloft creating even bars of light and darkness. Marring that pattern came a pair of headlights, accompanied by screeching tires and unmistakable bursts of gunfire. The rust red sedan crashed through the steel link fence, hanging in the air briefly before slamming down onto the sloped cement with a great crash and screech of protesting metal. Almost lost in that cacophony was the whisper quiet purr of the inky black motorcycle in pursuit. Clad similarly in black its rider practically melted into the bike's silhouette in the dim light, a crimson wing pattern up its sides the only detail separating it from a black brushstroke across the scene. It easily followed through the path opened in the fence and sped after the sedan, wearing back and forth to avoid the increasingly panicked fire from the car's occupants.
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09/11/2016 12:35 PM Downtown Freedom City When a professional group of vault hunters shows up in your city, the local law enforcement take notice. Granted, it's usually fairly hard to actually track them down, once they go to ground - but you can generally assume a spectacular heist is in the offing. AEGIS was well familiar with this procedure; having long set up protocols in the event of notable criminals popping up on the radar at the Freedom City airport - and they'd released the names and faces to the FCPD and (surreptitiously) to more than a few of their known heroic contacts. That or 'conviniently' left the information on unsecured servers where any (hero-type) person might find them. It was an old game, and one the Midnights and Ravens of old had played very well. The group in particular this month was called the Self-Preservation Society; a band of British movie buffs who'd taken up the mask and black bag years ago. They'd started their careers with blag jobs working armored convoys in the UK, graduating to larger-scale heists across France and Germany once their rep had grown. Four men, each world-class drivers, who'd made their bones on some of the scariest (and fastest) roads on Earth. They'd never pulled a job in the good old U.S. of A., but records were made to be broken - and given piles of these world-class drivers had kept popping up arriving one way or another in Freedom over the last few weeks, then dropping off the radar - something was in the works. That something finally came up when every alarm system Midnight had started screaming red. Three heroes in question were on patrol in the City Centre when the alarms hit - and a quartet of Mini Coopers souped up to frightening levels tore out of the front lobby of the First National. They moved as one in eerie synchronicity through the streets, moving towards an unknown destination - leaving wreckage of hot dog stands, newspaper stalls, and leaping bystanders in their wake!
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Gentlebeings, start your engines!
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Monday, April 13, 2015 10:30 AM Earth It was a Monday morning when Erin made it back to Earth, nearly six full weeks after she'd taken off for her first space adventure since her Curator-enforced vacation. She blasted in out of a clear blue sky, her life-support suit holding in both her oxygen supply and her wildly triumphant shout as she and Redbird made their re-entry at white-hot speeds. As soon as they dropped enough altitude for there to be atmosphere, she pulled off her helmet and drew in a deep lungful of air. "God, it's so good to be home!" she crowed. "Space is nuts. Let's leave it to the aliens for awhile," she suggested to her AI companion as they arced towards the familiar skyline of Freedom City. She was half-tempted to dive off the motorcycle at twenty-thousand feet and splash down in the Great Bay, wash away the grime of a month and a half without a proper water bath. Sonic cleaners did an adequate job of keeping dirt and smell at bay, but she never truly felt clean after using one. That would wait, though. Instead, she steered the motorcycle northward, towards home. "I guess maybe we should've called ahead," she decided. "He'll probably be in school at this hour. But that just means we can surprise him when he gets back." In just a few minutes they were touching down on the smooth paved roundabout in front of Hunter Manor, which was currently picturesque with a full spread of carefully tended flowerbeds and green lawn. Erin took another moment to enjoy solid Earth beneath her feet, then vaulted the front steps to go in the front door. "Hello, I'm home!"
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Lor Timemark 1329.8 - March 1, 2015 Garron-9, Garron System Trooper Ekna Veiu sat strapped into the back of the transport ship between a Lor mentat clone with a lantern jaw and a member of a scale covered species he couldn't name and tried to steady his breathing. He'd never planned to be a soldier but then the Communion had ripped through the Khanate, leaving the precious few survivors to flee or be turned into monsters. The Lor loved to talk about never forgetting Lor-Van but they hadn't been the only people to lose a homeworld and they weren't the only ones who'd wanted to fight back. Ekna was seventeen stellar cycles old; that had seemed like so long sitting around on his family farm waiting for his life to start, old enough to enlist with the Coalition forces, certainly. As the ship shook from atmospheric turbulence and he clenched his grey-green hands all he think about was whether or not he'd see his eighteenth cycle celebration. There weren't any enemy ships in the skies above Garron-9, at least. There didn't need to be. What had once been a densely populated border world with almost a billion inhabitants was now a solid sphere of computronium, a planet-sized server to add to the Communion's processing power. A billion people converted into raw materials and 'antibodies', the mindless, shrieking foot soldiers of the enemy. This was only Ekna's second deployment but he'd already gotten to see those up close and personal. They'd lost that moon but he'd acquitted himself well, getting his wounded sergeant to safety. They'd given him a commendation for that. They didn't mention the rest of his squad when they shook his hand. He didn't mention the night terrors he'd had ever since. That was how he'd ended up as part of one of four squads deploying to Garron-9 with a simple mission: fight their way through and take down a communication relay, in theory briefly blinding the Communion in the adjacent sector long enough for something apparently above his pay grade. Troopers didn't need to know the big picture, he guessed. He looked up from his knees and immediately regretted it as he saw the Grue strapped in across from him scowling right at him. At least Ekna thought the Grue was scowling. It was hard to tell with no mouth. He immediately looked back down regardless. Most of the other troopers were more experienced soldiers and most of them had experience fighting against those who were suddenly their allies. Tensions were always high but the calm before the storm was always the worst. Then again, at least he knew what a Grue was. Each squad had been assigned a commander for the mission, though Ekna got the impression the rank wasn't exactly official. One of them was a stern Lor officer with no patience for excuses; he'd met a lot of those in the past months. The Zultasian told a lot of jokes and laughed loudly, all swagger and confidence. Ekna had never seen anything like the grey skinned woman with the cybernetic tail, though, and even though the forth commander didn't look all that much older than him he'd heard some of the other soldiers say she wasn't really Lor but Terran and everybody had a friend of a friend with a horror story about a Terran. Ekna risked glancing up again to the back of the transport where all four of them were standing, holding onto handing straps and conversing.
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August 1, 2014 Midnight Manor 5 AM The ball of water smashed into the grounds of Midnight Manor like a tidal wave, water erupting outward and down as the artificial sphere produced by a hasty mass teleport collapsed under its own weight in a mini-tsunami. The water smashed across the lawn and flooded the flower beds, smashed against the first floor windows on the north side (which were luckily closed) and flooded the pool. In the center of the vast wet spot on the completely drenched lawn, a bedragged Mark Lucas and Nina al-Darsah were crouched protectively over an unconscious, bloody woman in a torn blue and white outfit like something from a Victorian's painting of a Middle Eastern harem. She looked bad, like someone who'd been grabbed in a giant's fist, and was covered in blood. "<-STEN TO ME!>" Nina was in the middle of screaming; the only water still standing the head-height inch-thick wall she was holding up between them and an invisible assailant. Her formal Socotran dress was ruined, even royal-made waterproof blue and white cloth torn to ribbons and hanging bedraggedly off her body, as if she'd been tossed into a waterfall and come out the other side. Mark wasn't panicking, really; he'd been in crises far worse than this, but as his soaking wet suit and tie erupted into his costume in a flash of light he was certainly far more focused than he usually was. "He's far away, and we have to get her to a hospital right now." He looked up, bloodstains on his hands from where it pooled on Fatima al-Darsah's skin like juice from a squeezed grape. "This is bad; I don't...I don't know how to fix this!" he said, a moment before he yelled "T-Midnight! Wander!" Pacing around the scene, her eyes still out for danger that was thousands of miles away, the princess of Socotra kept moving. "It doesn't make any sense," said Nina desperately, pulling her hair loose so the black strands poured down, soaking wet, past her shoulders. "Why would he do this, why would he just..." "Nina, please, I need you to help me with this!" Mark snapped. "I can't do this alone!" Torn out of her fugue by her boyfriend's urgency, not to mention the crisis of the moment, the princess went to help tend the bleeding woman who twenty minutes earlier had called her Daughter...
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Trevor Hunter was very good at doing things for very good reasons. A personal moral code that allowed for no compromise and a keen, analytical mind meant that very few of his actions were left to chance, the end result always kept in mind. As such he had a number of excellent arguments for asking Erin White to move into the mansion to which he was heir. She'd stayed at the manor for a time after they'd moved out of the Claremont dormitories and the arrangement had proved agreeable. Even one of the bedrooms would very nearly afford more room than the entire apartment she was staying in currently, to say nothing of the other facilities. Being closer to the hidden headquarters secreted under the foundation would likely prove useful in their shared work as members of the Liberty League. Ultimately, however, honestly compelled him to admit privately that the core reason was that he really wanted to. That note of emotion over logic had the young, dark-haried man pacing nervously across the lobby in a most uncharacteristic display as he waited for Erin to arrive.
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With the heroes and two-thirds of the ship's complement beamed down into the heart of the Curator's central control room, it was just Jill and Vrix-117, and of course Quickstep as well. Vrix wasn't as talkative as Samran or Shepard, and admitted that as she showed Jill how to read the panels that showed everyone's life readings inside the Curator's construct. "Commander's tactical, Shepard's science, but I'm more engineering. I mostly keep the ship running while they're on missions." Vrix had removed her helmet too, revealing bronze skin and hair as red as a lollipop. "I...oh!" she pointed as one of the wall panels lit up to reveal a flash of light from the distant perimeter of the ringworld, a silvery saucer ship flying through the gap. "I don't know that design, but they're not local. Hang on." She tapped a button on the panel in front of her, then shook her head. "Damn. I can't reach the commander, but I got a tachyon squirt out to the fleet. They'll be sending reinforcements. Friends of yours?" she asked, cocking her head Jill's way. Dorothy peered at the screen and said, "Looks just like a flying saucer from the movies!" - The saucer erupted into the Curator's system as it dropped from FTL, spilling a wash of tachyons and neutrinos along with a spray of visible light. They were between the ringworld's star and its structure, and for a moment the sheer size of the magnificent construction, known to be one of the largest structures in the Milky Way, filled the scanners of the ship. Thanks to the Curator's famous paranoia, it had been a long, long time indeed since anyone had ever gotten this close. 'Beneath' them was an ocean big enough to swallow multiple Earths, a storm playing across it that could have covered the entire planet, with distant shores visible even to the naked eye beyond before the ring curved away into invisibility. Trillions of people were down there, living their lives, perhaps never knowing about the Curator. Above them, close to the star, hung a black sphere the size of the Earth's moon, part of the circle of rotating black squares the size of planets themselves that made day and night for the people below. It was the central control unit of the entire structure, the geniuses aboard could tell at a glance. And inside that sphere, somewhere, was Steve. And attached to the side, visible as they got closer and closer, was a white pod the computer recognized as a Lor military vessel.
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For fightin'
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The night of January 15, 2013 2 AM The call went out to le Renard Rouge's, Cobalt Templar's, and the Liberty League's line, one after the other, at a time that just happened to catch them all when they were otherwise indisposed. The woman's voice on the other end is rough and raspy, with the tension clear as she speaks. "
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January 15 It was not a good day for getting commlink messages in Freedom City. It seemed like every message that came in heralded some new disaster in the city, another hero replaced by a robot double, another fire that needed put out somewhere. In the middle of the parade of messages assailing the communications array of Dragonfly's suit on a day when she was already considerably distracted, one message managed to stand out, for its oddity at least. The message was in text, bald blinking letters that scrolled across the screen of her suit. <> That was one voice who had been silent through the tumult of the day, Miss Americana had been nowhere to be found during all the rescue work, though there had been word of her at Blackstone Prison early in the morning. What followed the message header, though, was no description of danger or location, but rather a long string of scrambled letters and complex equations.
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Gina's spending an HP to create a detector that will pick up Harrier's unique signal due to the special modifications she has helped make to him through the course of their association. With her mental Quickness and the HP expenditure, an invention can be made with eighteen minutes of design and eighty rounds (eight minutes) of building that will last the length of one encounter, so hopefully long enough to let the gang zero in on the abductees. Super-Senses 20 (acute analytical extended 15 [same solar system] radius ranged detect Free Omegadrones [mental]) [20PP]
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Cobalt Templar, the Liberty League, and Eve Martel deal with some bad medicine.
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Large Hill, Wharton State Forest, A Few Miles Outside Freedom City March 2, 2012, Early Afternoon Corbin stood at the foot of the hill, currently wearing a rather rugged hiking outfit, hauling around a decent-sized backpack that had a few snacks and a lot of drawing materials. One might think he was out simply to try and capture the beauty of the wilderness; the fact that he had several topographical maps, geological surveys, and other such materials stuffed in the bag would bear witness to a more solemn purpose. Currently, the bag was sitting on the ground, and he was standing there, concentrating on sketching out the hill's outline, occasionally adding some numbers to various points on it. He took a break to sip some water, wolf down a granola bar, and glance at his watch, raising an eyebrow. 'I know it's out of the way, but I figure Trevor would have been here 35 minutes before me, or at least before the meeting time. Hard to say with Nick, don't know him as well.' He just hoped they didn't take too long. He had a date with Quo-Dis planned tonight, and while this planning would be important, he didn't want to spend the whole rest of the day on it.
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OOC thread spawned from this thread I'll go ahead and re-post my villain stat blocks now, so the two of you can review. Main Villain: 1.)Base Attack raised to 11, so that his attack with his Builder Array (for lack of a better term) is 15 2.)Base Defense raised to 10, for 15 total (with Dodge Focus) and 5 Flat-footed 3.)Toughness goes to up to 15, thanks to Protection upgrade (more in a moment) 4.)Fort, Reflex, and Will all go up to 10 (3pp boost to each base save) 5.)Add 1 rank of Dodge Focus 5.)Power changes: a.)Damage goes up to 15, DC is 30 b.)Drop Emotion Control c.)Move Object goes up to 15, DC is 30 d.)Add the following to the Array: Blast 15 (Extra: Targeted Area [shapeable], Flaw: Full-Round Action), DC 30 e.)Protection goes up to 12 DCs: Damage: Toughness DC 30 Move Object: Toughness DC 30 Area Blast: Toughness DC 30 **Done** Now, for the 3 minions. Using: Paragon with a Power Ring. I'm not making them full-on constructs mechanically. I'm now thinking they might be small-time thugs utterly infused with the Builder's powers. Anyways. Changes: 1.)Attack up to 8, 12 total for Energy/Unarmed 2.)Base Defense up to 8, Total up to 12, Flat-Footed 4 3.)Overall Con goes to 34 w/base powers, gives him +12 mod. 4.)Overall Str goes to 34 w/base powers, gives him +12 mod. 5.)Toughness goes up to 12 with Con 6.)Fort save up to 12 thanks to Con 7.)Ref is 6, Will is 8, both due to base save boost 8.)Powers a.)Device gets...eh, it has more points. I'm more concerned about combat caps and such really. These are one-shot NPC mods. b.)Blast is 12, DC is 27 c.)Enhanced Str and Con raised to 18 (to change above total stats) DCs: Blast: 27 Toughness Unarmed: 27 Toughness **DONE** IC thread soon! EDIT: IC Thread up!
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14 April 2012 The weather is nice today, Eve thought as she looked out across the Great Bay. It was a fleeting thought, and only a momentary distraction from the anxiety gnawing at her, for guests would be arriving soon. Eve was never one for drawing attention to herself--the few friends she had knew she preferred to be the quiet, unseen hand in the background--but there were certain things she was unable to avoid. Unavoidable, perhaps, but not immutable. By floating out an invitation to her friends and teammates, and most importantly Etain, Eve was able to neatly sidestep the preconceived notion of what an eighteenth birthday party for someone of her wealth and status should be like. Taking things into her hands would allow the Martel heiress to do things her way. That thought brought a smile to her face as she slipped back into her room then headed down the stairs, guests would be arriving soon, after all.
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When: 14 April 2012Where: Martel Estate (Windrush), North Bay, Freedom City Who: Both YF 1.5 and YF 2.0 have been floated invites, so who attends is up to the players of the cross team PCs. Etain was, of course, invited.
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March 7, 4:30pm Even though the Manor was locked as usual, Erin’s key let her in the kitchen door, or rather the door to the largest of the many kitchens. She’d come bearing gifts, and cat as well, a sure sign that she planned to stick around for awhile. Charlie wasn’t the independent soul that his father was, and he pouted if left alone too long, even with sufficient kitten chow. Even now he wasn’t too happy sitting on her shoulder, with her hair still wet from the shower she’d grabbed after work. “Trevor?†she called, her voice echoing in the silent hallways of the Hunter Estate. “Are you home yet? I brought a pizza!†Pausing at the counter, she filled Charlie’s food and water dishes and left him to dig in.
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Continued from >There Won't Be A Next Time June 1st, 2011. 8:05 AM Young Freedom missed graduation, but then again, so did everyone else. The ceremony had been postponed the minute the five young heroes had disappeared from view, for all that they'd reappeared only five minutes later on the other side of town with the broken chestplate of Omega's armor and a wild story to tell. There were debriefings to come, no doubt extensive ones that would exhaustively pour over every detail of the fight at the end of reality and all that had come before it: the death of the multiverse, the trip to four worlds, the appearance and disappearance of Rick Lucas, and finally the seeming destruction of the Lord of Entropy himself. But first, Bolt's speedy trip back to Freedom Hall after the reappearance of Travis, Martha, and Erin's cat on the Claremont lawn had meant the League teleporters were already working. By the time the Young Freedom kids had given their hasty explanations to the startled Captain Thunder and headed inside for their debriefing, their missing loved ones, even Quo-Dis who was holding a very familiar orange cat, were waiting for them inside. For their part, Mark and Martha took a look at each other, Mark's look confirming what Martha had already known, and they simply embraced, the moment too sharp, too painful, coming after too much overwhelming emotion even for weeping. "I'm proud of you, Mark," Martha whispered fiercely. "So very proud."
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ic Graduation Day: There Won't Be A Next Time (IC)
Avenger Assembled posted a topic in The Realms Beyond
Continued from >The Earth Died Screaming Earth-EZO1 was a stark world of grim horror and sere beauty. Redbird's fast flight over the western United States showed them a world of dead cities and empty ruins beneath. Most cities had burned by now in their long untended period; Boise, Denver, St. Louis, and the rest were shells of what they'd once been. Streets were clogged with the rusting shells of cars and debris, and even unburnt buildings had begun to sway and fall. They were, at least, too high up for any lingering smells from beneath, though most of those had faded with the years of quietude. On another day, they might have appreciated the natural beauty beneath: the Misssissippi free of man's pollution, trees growing where cities had once been, a herd of bison stampeding beneath them in Missouri, what distinctly looked like a lion watching them as they skipped through Appalachian peaks in the Carolinas. But there was no time for that now, not with where they were going. Undersea was all quiet darkness as Redbird, with Midnight's skilled hands on her handlebards, took them beneath the waves. The ocean was dead of people; the Atlantean genocide having been one of the first outbreaks of the hero flu, but here too there were fish at play and the sunlight passing through the waves. There was life here, if no human life, and a vast universe beyond them. This world was more than just a tool for saving all reality; Earth-EZO1, for all its horror, was a world worth saving too. As they passed under the water, lit only dimly by the glow of Redbird's lights and the shimmering blue of Corbin's cold fire, Mark looked around at all the faces of his friends, thinking about the people underneath the masks. Erin, Trevor, Corbin, Eve, and their new friend Red Falcon, who with his plasma rifle would be defending Redbird even if they all had to leave it behind. They'd all come so far, over so many years and so much time, and now they were about to face their greatest challenge yet. They were approaching the river now, Edge riding behind Sage in one compartment, Cobalt Templar and Red Falcon on another side, and Midnight grim and determined behind the wheel with Wander behind him. For just a second, Mark closed his eyes and saw his mother's face, then his father's. Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. And then they were erupting out of the water and Freedom City was given over to the forces of Hell: grim Terminus towers rising where once the Pyramid Plaza had stood and on the site of where City Hall had been, the downtown of Freedom City transformed into a Terminus hellscape of firepits and belching machinery: and as Redbird roared towards the battered bulk of Freedom Hall, he saw the Omegadrones beneath look up. "Let's do this! For Freedom!" -
ic Graduation Day: The Earth Died Screaming (IC)
Avenger Assembled posted a topic in The Realms Beyond
Continued from >Leaves from the Vine Earth-Z-Omega-1 Edge froze in shock as the toppling tower came down right where he was! Unable to dodge in time, instead he stood his ground and fired back. "NO!" His eyes glowing black, he fired straight upwards as the reality of this dead world warped around him at his will. He would not die because of a falling building! Mark Lucas would not let this, or anything else, stop his friends in their efforts to save all of existence from the dark machinations of Omega! At his command, the falling debris broke around him like a tide breaking around a rock, the so-small clear zone around him the only island of sanity beneath the avalanche of falling steel, concrete, and glass. A falling brick bounced against his back, knocking him to his knees, but Mark did not fall as the collapsing debris fell around him, his powers warping the very air and very rocks to keep his friends from being buried by the avalanche, even if he wasn't able to save all of them from the damage produced by the collapsing Needle. Before he even focused on the aerial battle, he called out over the echoes of the collapse, "Young Freedom! Sound off!"
