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Happy Hour, Chester's Club, West End, Freedom City 14th February 2020 Lucy wasn’t generally one to feel melancholic, she enjoyed her un-life to the fullest. But this year was going to be rough on her, the 1920 had been her time when everything swung and she was among the bright young thing. It wouldn’t be long before a century that she was originally killed, and whilst she’d missed most of it the weight of the years weighed heavy on her. People shouldn’t relive a decade more than once, and she wonder mournfully if it was be the same if she made it to the next ‘20s. Sipping her dirty Martini Lucy wasn’t really paying attention to the cub she liked to spend her time, instead of the dingy (though no longer smoky) jazz atmosphere, the club was brightly lit with table for a night for those who didn’t have a date for this special day...
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Date: April 1st, 2019. An hour or so after sundown. [GM Post] April Fools' Day. A day to play jokes, spring pranks, and spread hoaxes. A day where everything must be taken with a grain of salt, even in a place like Freedom City, where fantastic things happened with some regularity. But there are some things that even the citizens of Freedom would consider "unusual." Long-time residents of West Freedom know of Lantern Jack, the spectre that haunts Lantern Hill. Or, rather, haunted -- not a spark of his eerie lamplight has been seen for years. Some hope he had finally passed on to Heaven, others fear he had been dragged down to Hell, or banished to some Limbo. But now, an eerie, blue-green light -- similar to the one from his lamp -- shone again on Lantern Hill, slowly wandering about the graveyard. Was it Lantern Jack, back from... wherever he had been? Or was it something else?
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GM ASTRO Labs Downtown, Freedom City, NJFriday, October 28th, 2016 11:00 PM There were many sounds one didn't want to hear in Freedom City's illustrious tech sector. Explosions could signify a castrophic event, or even the game changing creation of a new powered player in town. Screams and wails often followed a tear in the natural laws of the universe. Then there was of course H. Gordon Willicker's crickety knee. A sound that would be inevitably be followed with a ten minute description of the current pains that plagued his body. In graphic detail. But, the worst sound? Absolute silence. Just after the silence alarm was tripped in the world renowned ASTRO Labs facility, not a peep could be heard. Or seen for that matter. The patrol cars had yet to arrive on the scene, but news was quickly spreading throughout social media. Something weird was happening in ASTRO Labs...
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A dark and abandoned street, West End The Witching hour, 31st May 2016 It was a scene that must have played out a thousand time before, and would play out a thousand times again. Down the street walked a lone figure tiny and vulnerable in the night, but she was not alone and definitely not safe. Soon she was joined by two figures who followed a distance behind, pale pale skin that made them appear to float in the darkness. They were predators out to apparently hunt and this woman had there interest. Soon two more joined the fray either side of the woman, then two more in front. Surrounded by these pale figures it seemed that the woman would soon become prey to these pale humans. But this was Freedom City and things were never quite as clear cut as they may seem.
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July 11, 2015 Kimber finished etching the last rune into the surface of the ice with a telekinetically controlled chisel before floating a few meters into the air to survey her work critically. After the better part of two years of preparation and careful work she wasn't going to let the arcane ritual equivalent of a typo ruin everything now, especially now with so many of her friends on the way to help pull off her plan. Indira and Eve were already waiting on the bleachers on the other side of the plexiglass, the latter having been convinced to rent out the indoor ice rink for the day with only a minimum of pleading. Kimber had asked Tarva to head up to the announcer's booth so that she could double check the complex circles of inscribed sigils that made up the first step of the day's undertaking. Satisfied with the results, the poltergeist nodded and turned to her friends, hands on her hips. "Good to go! Just in time, too! Everybody should be getting here pretty soon!"
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20 Miles Out from the Senkaku Islands Saturday, November 29th 0800 Local Time Cannonade looked out at the listless gray skies over the East China Sea, trying to focus on the task ahead of him. Then again, that might have been easier if he knew anything about what it was. He had some idea of why he was flying over international waters in one of AEGIS' high velocity planes, but he was a bit flaky on the fine details. He could, as always, blame Commander Grayston for all of this. He'd answered the knock at his door Saturday afternoon thinking it was Andy coming over to talk about all the things that he'd experienced during the semester up in Boston. He'd actually fought to stifle a groan when he saw who was standing there instead. "Come on," he'd said, "it's Thanksgiving..." "Exactly," Grayston had said, "so think of the ones who didn't make it home to their families." That had shut Joe up real quick. Once Grayston had settled in and salvaged some coffee from Joe's kitchen, he laid all that was known on the table. An AEGIS light aircraft had experienced heavy turbulence while returning from a mission in Japan, and had gone down somewhere around the Senkaku Islands. A transceiver in the plane's black box logged the crashdown site as 20 miles out from one of the islands, and there was a chance the three agents on board had made it to shore. "The Senkaku Islands have been in dispute for years. Japan, Taiwan, and the People's Republic of China all think they have a claim to them, and each one calls them by something different. This island, however... no one seems to be champing at the bit for it. If anything, we've intercepted intelligence that indicates Taiwan has tried to foist it upon Japan in return for claims to one of the others. Our information on it is spotty at best, and neither nation wants to disclose much about it. The best we have to go on is that Japanese intelligence has referred to it as Avici." "Guessing it ain't after the DJ." "No. It's a term for the lowest level of the Buddhist Hells, the place from which sinners have no escape." "Great. So, if the survivors made it there..." "They're capable men and women. But this island has folklore associated with it going back centuries, little of it pleasant. There's no clear, concise picture of what may be dwelling on it, but whatever it is, it has teeth. We need somebody who can get in there, get the agents, and get out before that beast wakes." "Well, it's been a while since I went on a nature hike through Hell itself --" "You're the muscle for the operation. You'll be accompanied by specialists better suited for the... eccentricities of the terrain."
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The OOC! To start off with the DuTempts Building crew are already at the ice rink with Kimber any everyone else can begin arriving! Nick, Equinox and Frost should all have a general idea of what Kimber's been working on since she'd have asked them for their professional opinions along the way. I'll leave it to each of you how complete a picture of the final goal you think they'd have. She'd have likewise let Temperance know she needed help with something involving Jotunheim and made a weak attempt to coach the whole thing in technobabble for Citizen's peace of mind. Papercut and Revenant may only know that Kimber asked for their help and that there's a non-zero chance that there's going to be some monster fighting involved. Kimber's friends from True North are stuck dealing with another Igneous (lava men) crisis, which Frost and Blue Fox would certainly know about, if it comes up.
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The Weizenstein family were as old as Freedom City itself coming here almost as the first foundations were laid down. Over this time they had managed to climb to the top by having fingers in many of the cities major businesses, with a knack for picking the right investment at the right time. Some even suggested that they used magic, often black, to gain their fortune. Then in the 1980’s the family seemed to fade from public life after a private tragedy only now with the return to public life with the return of Carl Weizenstein from one of the top universitie. Currently he was everywhere over the television and newspapers, and even talked about on the Internet, whilst some it was about new business and charity works most of the buzz was about his ghost. It started with a off handed comment about the family ghost but had snowballed to the point that the former Weizenstein was now in the background of most of the photographs of Carl. The poor ghost Samuel wasn’t questioned on his thoughts and apparently couldn’t even leave the stately Weizenstein manor.
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Stesha had a problem. Actually, Stesha had a lot of problems, some of which would work themselves out with time, some of which she would have to entrust to other people, and some of which she would deal with herself. But at the moment she had two problems she didn't know what to do with, and there was really only one solution. She needed a lawyer. It wasn't as though Stesha had never used a lawyer before. She'd gone to one of the League's attorneys just a few months ago to help her with the messy and unpleasant business that was even the simplest and most drama-free of divorces. She'd tried to do it herself, but had needed the help when it turned out that the court had problems figuring out jurisdiction when neither of the involved parties made their primary home on the planet. The briskly efficient League attorney had done some kind of legal wizardry involving domicile and precedent and degrees of contact, and it had all worked out in the end, but she kind of never wanted to see that lawyer again, friendly and professional though he'd been. She needed another lawyer. A little asking around in the hero community netted her a good possibility. Lucy Harker was not exactly an average lawyer, being a superhero on the side, but she had her own office on the West End and was open for business. Stesha hoped that, being a superhero and all, she'd be flexible enough to help deal with her two unusual problems, or at least point her in the right direction. She called and made an appointment for Fleur de Joie, then set herself to gathering documents. Lots of documents.
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OoC for >this.
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Here's my little corner of the site for Revenant : Lucy's Autobiography Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four HellQ 20 Questions Reputation Charts Undead woman declared “aliveâ€
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Union Rail Yards Friday, May 30th, 2014 9:32 PM There was a wound in the world. Nick Cimitiere admitted that he wasn't the most science-minded individual in the world - his talents lay in the arts, the arcane, and perhaps an espresso machine. Which meant it was kind of hard to describe the sight before him. He'd been catching up with some of the ghosts that lurked around the neighborhood when a bright flash had caught his eye. Trailing it, he found the anomaly - a dark, blue sphere of light that hung two foot above the ground, neither flickering nor fading. It was almost the color of midnight, and it appeared as constant as any object - save, that is, for the occasional dark blue spark that crackled off of it. He planted his feet before the sphere. This might not be his department, but he had a feeling he didn't want to take his eyes off of it. Who knew what might emerge from its confines...
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The Franklins had money, and half the city knew it. They didn’t live fancy. They didn’t have a big house, or any servants. They lacked even so much as an automobile, preferring Freedom City Transit instead. They lived in Southside, and very quietly at that. Sadie, Thomas, and their lovely little girl Hannah were, for all intent and purposes, anonymous and nobody. The problem was that Thomas’s family members, though deceased, were all unrepentant though relatively minor criminals and had been for generations. Thomas himself managed to stay out of it, but with no one left to inherit the family money upon his father’s death, Thomas was stuck with a substantial amount of illegally gained cash. This alone earned him a jaundiced look from Freedom’s criminal underworld, but the exact amount of money remained unknown, so no one took action. Yet. Sadie’s unknown great uncle dropping dead and leaving her a similarly large amount of legal money provided a fine opportunity for the couple to legalize the extra cash. Unfortunately, it also provided a fine opportunity for someone to kidnap Hannah for ransom. Going to the cops was not an option - see illegal cash. This was where NPC Investigations came in. August 30, 2014. 1:45 AM. Southside. Penny Nihara simply stood on the roof of Rocket Records. The store was closed for the holiday, and wouldn’t reopen until Tuesday. She tapped her foot, impatient. The heroes were late. She had done everything but send up a flare. She briefly considered doing just that, but discarded the idea as she was too close to the airport. Even accounting for skepticism, someone should have shown up by now. The message was simple enough. “A young girl has been kidnapped. I need your help.†Penny had it relayed by various means, as well as the location to meet. Yes…any minute now. Honestly…she was almost surprised that a hero wasn’t on the job to begin with. Almost meaning that after a few years of doing this job, she knew that an awful lot of small things slipped past Freedom’s champions. The locally focused types did what they could, but ultimately it was a numbers game. There just wasn’t enough of them, and likely never would be. Freedom had the curious habit of becoming more dangerous the more heroes patrolled it. Ah, there one was now. Good.
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GM The Greenbank was a wreck of crumbling buildings and old railroads. More than a few of Freedom Cities homeless lived here. Many ill, in body and mind. Many lonely, many desperate. Young and old, men and women, and every race of earth. Possibly, even races other than earth. This was Freedom City, after all. The Mission of Mercy was a charitable mobile medical unit, run by volunteers, to try and give at least basic medical care to the homeless, some who were extremely ill. Run by a nun, a pair of nurses, and a rotating number of doctors who gave up their free time, it was well received, and at least made a little difference to a few lives. It saved more than a few. And Mad Jake, the hobo who was suitably mad, was stumbling scared from it. He had seen some crazy things in his time. Why, a few months ago he had sworn he had seen somebody open up the "Grin and Bear it" building, and descend into its basement. But then, he was blind drunk, and, he had to admit it, pretty loopy. He was frightened out of his wits, stumbling in the dark, vodka bottle in hand, tumbling, stumbling, and running from the Greenbanks, towards the Fens, and shouting to the world... "The Devil! I saw the Devil! Drinking blood!" he screamed in fear.
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September 3, 2013 8:23 AM This morning found the sky over Freedom City overcast, with showers expected throughout the day and possibly thunder storms in the afternoon. Despite the cloud cover, the otherwise warm morning air was already very muggy due to the humidity. Nestled along the southeastern end of downtown Freedom City, the Fens were just as muggy as anywhere else. In the rather battered building that housed the Bloodhound Detective Agency, there was no reprieve from the humidity, as the building's air conditioning had once again decided to break down for the umpteenth time this summer. Harry was seated at his desk near the window, which was open in the hopes of getting a breeze. Freddy was seated on the sofa, watching the news, a fan blowing on him at the highest setting. Lucy was in the office she had recently moved into the humidity not bothering her in the slightest.
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Surprise, it's the OOC. Seems to be tagged appropriately, too. Imagine that.
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OOC for a grimdark spooky adventure for Nightingale and Revenant. Well Informed + Gather Information, or alternatively Knowledge [streetwise] for the Mission of Mercy DC 10: Its a Catholic Funded charity, giving medical care to the homeless. DC 15: It does a lot of life saving work. It is a mobile Infirmary well equipped, staffed by doctor, nurse. DC 20: It is run by the meek and lovely Sister Fenton, a nun of the Catholic Church, who also used to be a nurse. DC 25: It has well stocked blood supplies, rather unusually. For plot purposes, Nightingale will certainly know a rumour (your choice how to narrate the knowledge) that the Mission of Mercy has a ton of blood and is not well protected. You may, or may not know, that it would be unusual, but not implausible, to do so.
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March 5, 2014 Freedom City "The entire garrison? You are absolutely certain?" Alone in the small, cramped office that was all he had in Freedom City, Comrade Frost closed his eyes as he held his cellphone to his ear. "All right. All right, I will be there within twenty-four hours. Yes, with superpowered associates." At his interrogator's question, Frost simply laughed bitterly, remembering what he'd seen in the reports sent his way from Bukhara, as well as what he'd seen on the news from Moscow. "No, not the Freedom League. No, we will need rather different help for _this_ threat..." For all that he'd had to wheedle his office space and his first-level access to the League, the effort paid for itself again and again every day, as now when Frost used the League's access to make a few clandestine phone calls. And so it was that with the help of a few borrowed phone numbers, he managed to have a message sent to Ghost Girl and Revenant, albeit the first through a third party. CRISIS OF THE DEAD. MEET ME IN FREEDOM HALL TONIGHT AT SUNSET. -COMRADE FROST At the appointed hour, Frost was sitting in the small meeting room he'd set aside for the occasion, drinking from a large cup of nearly-boiling hot coffee as he awaited his guests - allies in what promised to be a difficult situation to come.
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OOC for this Ok we are going for a Casino Royale feel her. Lots of social conflict. Ocassional bouts of violence. And more importantly, feel free to use all your skills and powers in non-combat ways., To start off, you can make a knowledge (current events, business or streetwise) , or gather information skill roll, to see what the "Buzz" is. Feel free to narrate the particulars of what you know according to what skill you use and the particulars of your hook in. DC 20: The High Steaks is selling "the Grand Prize", nobody knows what it is, but the Mafia, some major coorperations, and other outfits are investing big in some players to win it for them. Word is, its illegal. DC 30: The Grand Prize is infact a massive Daka Crystal, smuggled illegally into the country and unsellable by conventional means. Hence, the poker game. Also, you can make a Knowledge (Civics) Roll DC 25 to see if you can disentangle the legal jargon around the invitation and rules, to realise this is a smuggled, illegal item. Then, please narrate your entrance! Narrative license is yours, so feel free to add what you want to the ambience.
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GM Saturday night, 2nd August... The High Steaks was a sleek, upper crust joint, even amongst the casinos that it loitered in. It was not, technically, a casino. Its lower level was one of the finest eateries in Freedom City, new, fresh, modern with a classical twist. Or classic with a modern twist. Its steaks were the finest in the City, perhaps the country, Perhaps even the world. Expensive as that was, it was dwarfed by the real money. Overlooking the dining area was the top table, where the finest food was eaten, the finest wine drunk, and the most exclusive poker table in the City stood. Millions were lost, millions were won. Tears were cried, and joy was sung. The balcony of the top table stood over the high steaks, and had a view over the city. THe High Steaks was a tall glass building. A few years back, it had been home to a Vampire Attack although nobody really knew if this was a legend, a myth, or the truth. It seemed the myth had done business no harm, anyway. The High Steaks fed on anxiety and excitement. And tonight was the grand prize. Nobody knew what the prize was, for sure, although gossip flew this way and that. Whatever it was, some big guns had arrived for the game. The rules were simple: Winner takes the prize, and the seller took all the money that was brought to the table. The more money you brought, the more chance you had of winning. And some major organisations and wealthy individuals had brought a lot of money...
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what does Lucy dooo?
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Thursday, February 7, 2013 Early evening A couple of days ago, Lucy Harker had received a visit from a mother that was concerned about her young adult son being in some sort of trouble. Ms. Diaz was originally from Mexico, having moved to the United States more than twenty years ago before becoming a naturalized citizen. Her son, Benito, was a first generation Mexican-American, and his mother had worked hard to make sure he had plenty of opportunity and did not fall into the wrong crowd. One of the activities Benito had taken to was boxing, and he had even won a few junior competitions in the city. Ms. Diaz had told Lucy that Benito had changed dramatically in the last couple of weeks, often staying out late at night and occasionally coming home with injuries which he gave shaky explanations for when she would question him about them. But Lucy had barely been able to start looking into things when she had received a call from Ms. Diaz this morning, informing her that Benito had been gone since Tuesday night. After assuring Ms. Diaz that this was now a top priority for her, Lucy had called one of her clients, the Bloodhound detective agency, and invoked part of their "agreement" to enlist their aid in tracking down the young man. Then, she had gone with Fred Furlong and Harry Hound to Ms. Diaz's home to start trying to figure out what might be going on with her son. After searching his room, they had found a fair amount of cash hidden in a drawer, but nothing else that would suggest gang activity or drug dealing. They had spent the rest of the day asking around in the neighborhood, but could not turn up anything that would suggest Benito had joined a gang. At this point, Harry and Fred brought up a rumor they had been hearing recently about some underground street fighting rings being run in parts of the Fens and Greenbank. Of course, the two private eyes knew little more than the possible existence of these operations, but they knew someone who likely knew more. Of course, given how their last visit to see Ricky Ferreti had gone, they decided to try to catch him before he reached his favorite watering hole. So now Lucy, Fred and Harry were sitting in the Bloodhound agency's Cadillac outside the bar, watching for Ricky to arrive.
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Chester’s Club Chester’s was finally called well Chester’s since the 1920’s the club had stood on the same spot more or less unchanged. It had survived wars and invasion and the worse that Freedom City could throw at it and through all that there had Bobby Johnson, but now he was finally retiring from running the club and leaving it in the capable hands of his Granddaughter Jada Johnson. The last couple of years Jada had subtly been updating the club whilst keeping the classic Blue Club feel. Whilst some of the old timer’s complained about not being able to smoke, most had been more surprised that Bobby had had time to have a daughter let alone a Granddaughter. The final act was to finally give the club the name that most people had always called it, and to celebrate the retirement of the second oldest of it’s patrons.
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West End, Freedom City Lucy woke up with a throbbing headache something that struck her as odd, though right now she couldn’t remember why that was strange thing. She opened her eye’s to see a masked female face filling her vision, now that was a lot more familiar. “Are you okay? You were attacked and I sent them packing.†there was pride in her voice, it wasn’t something she’d done before. Lucy sat up causing the woman to step back, she didn’t quite know what to do this was all still new to her. She might be a hero of some type, her face was covered by a blue handkerchief actual everything she wore was blue and harked back to the classic 20’s style. “I’m fine, just a bump from the fall.†She rubbed a rather large bump on the back of her head. No wait that couldn’t be right? On hunch she felt for a pulse and could hear the steady beat of her heart. She was alive again. “I know this sounds a little weird, but what the day and year today?†The woman looked a little suspicious but answered the question. “It’s May 27th 1926.â€
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GM Thursday 2nd May, around midday Liberty Park The man was old, probably in his sixties, yet in good health. He had a health mop of white hair and leathered, tanned skin. He was dressed in a Linen suit, and one could only guess he had been a handsome man in his youth - he still held on to some silvered good looks and an easy charming smile. "Hello young man" he said, approaching Marcus. "Mr..Irons, isn't it?" he asked, bowing slightly. "I am Doctor Lake. No, not a medical doctor.." he chuckled. "Just a humble student of history..." He mopped his brow with a handkerchief in the hot May sun. He wore a broad sun hat, but still, the sun was high in the sky. "Taken me a while to find you, Sir" he explained. "I thought I should bring something to your attention. I keep my eyes and ears open, you see, and I know more than a thing or two about the myths and occultism of the past. If I am not mistaken, you have a smack of that about you, am I right?"
