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Mid-August, 2023 After sunset / before midnight Liberty Park “…And in an update on other unfortunate news. The body of local small business owner Donald Greuber was found. The body was found in the waters of Liberty Park, just a hundred feet from the spot local news correspondent Vincent Lancaster and his cameraman Andrew Peterson disappeared from three days ago. The latest victims to fall prey to what people are calling the Liberty Park Demon.” A young anchorman reads from an offscreen teleprompter. “Freedom City Police have repeatedly insisted though that after serious investigation, there is no actual proof of supernatural involvement.” Anywhere else in the country and that may have been meant as a joke to lighten the mood. But in Freedom… “City Hall has been under pressure after it had been revealed police had been downplaying attacks around Liberty Park that have been increasing over the last year. No connections have been made between the known victims and police still have no suspects.” The young man folds his hand solemnly. “We will continue to cover this story as more information becomes available.” the camera switches to a cheerful looking young anchorwoman. “And when we return…” **** *ring ri-* “911, what is your emergency?” “Ya, ah, I want to report a, ah, a body.” “A body?” “Yes.” “Can you tell if they’re alive?” “Nah, they not moving, and I ain’t getting any closer.” “That’s okay sir. Can I get your name?” “I, ah, rather not.” “That’s okay sir. Where did you find the body?” “Near the Foster St entrance of Liberty. It’s, ah, it’s hangin over the wall.“ “Hanging over th-“ “Look, I can’t talk anymore. I ain’t getting involved.” “Sir-“ *click* **** Street lamps illuminate the police tape that cordoned off nearly a hundred yards in every direction into the park from the Foster street entrance of Liberty park. Agitated police personnel swarm the area looking for clues while keeping late night rubberneckers at a distance. Several reports argue with the police refusing to let them past the barriers until they’ve finished. Despite the efforts of police, civilians are still active in the park. It’s been a sad, but constant struggle for authorities. Some are heedless of the danger, some possibly hoping for it. Some hoping to take advantage of it and some just because they tragically have no where else to go. There have been rumors of federal involvement at the behest of local government. And pictures on social media have show individuals in suits speaking with local police, though no official statement on it has been given. All said and done… there seems little optimism that an end is in sight.

Spring 2024 Freedom City teenagers in 2024 had been small children when the Deep One invasion of 2011 had happened. Some of them had seen Deep Ones themselves, or heard stories of the terrible consequences of their invasion in the years growing up. Mindless cannibals, demented fanatics, terrible fiends - and certainly their lessons at Claremont about the poorly understood race of psychopathic cannibal abominations that shared the ocean with Atlanteans and who sought the doom of all Surface-Men had been little reassuring on the subject. This made it all the more exciting, then, that they'd been offered a chance to meet Sea Devil, widely known in the hero community as the only good Deep One. Here they were in the back of a school van being driven out to the Waterfront by Mrs. Harcourt, a veteran classroom teacher who generally brooked no nonsense but had a reputation for fairness. "Remember," she was saying, "Ms. Innsmouth has been living away from her people for many years, but this may be a shocking experience for some of you. I'm counting on all of you to show her the best traditions of our school and the spirit of our students." Aquaria had come to campus a few years ago and there'd been something of an - altercation, the students had all heard - so now seeing the Deep One was strictly voluntary. They'd had to get their parents and guardians to sign off on it, even.

OOC for Here

Burnham Military Camp Near Christchurch Aotearoa/New Zealand July 3nd, 2021 On the first day of the Matariki celebrations an army of giants appeared from the Southern Alps, marching upon the city of Christchurch. With no time to respond the New Zealand Armed Forces had to turn to other sources of help. And so, the day after Matariki the government of Aotearoa put forth a call for heroes. At Burnham Military camp a liaison waited for the heroes to arrive, smiling when relief when the four heroes were assembled in front of the building. "Thank you all for coming so swiftly."

11/3/2021 Claremont Academy Sea Devil in her armor and Singularity with her shield, the two heroines sat together by Claremont's outdoor pool and waited patiently for their mentees to arrive. Aquaria was doing her best to avoid agitating Jessie, having done some pleading to get them both to volunteer for this very exciting occasion, so she was sitting legs folded up beneath her by her friend, her iridescent armor gleaming like a statue beneath the wan sun of a Freedom City autumn. "So all of the dogs in all of his pictures are playing poker," she croaked thoughtfully, thinking of Baxter nearby. She was not entirely sure she understood the subject of the man Jessie's thesis was about but she understood he was definitely an artist. "But dogs do not want to play poker, so I should not try and train Baxter." She shifted back and forth where she crouched and said, "I understand why you write about him. His work is a great mystery! What does it mean?"

May 2021 After All Bad Bad Nevertheless The good news was that Sea Devil and Singularity had beaten the monster. Whether it was the injury Aquaria had done to it, or the terror Jessie had put in its eyes, Memento Mori had disappeared before it could attack the Project Freedom crews that had arrived on the scene. Singularity had even been talked back to Jessie before she could hurt anyone, thanks to the need to get Aquaria to a hospital and the nearby presence of people she knew well. The Kingston cleanup process was...going to be delayed for some time. Jessie's fast healing meant that she didn't have so much as a bruise by the next morning. There was just one piece of bad news. Aquaria still hadn't woken up. Out of her armor she looked decidedly bedraggled, a downcast look on her broad face, her eyes responding to light and her body to stimuli, but her mind seemingly elsewhere. Eve had found that Aquaria was indeed still in her head, but far away as if in deep sleep, and magical probes by Tarva and others hadn't gotten very much further. They'd taken her home to the castle where she could rest, in the deep wading brackish water pool where she was the most comfortable, but her quietude was alarming. No one else who had been hurt by the creature had stayed down like this. Even going back to the worst injury anyone had heard of Aquaria getting, the in all honesty probably too-violent beating from Nereid that had led to her initial arrest, there was no reason for her to still be unconscious, especially with seemingly no bruises herself, the next day. People had been in and out of the Castle all day, specialists from the League and elsewhere, but nobody had figured anything out yet.

May 2021 Kingston This had once been a fine place, where Surfacers competed to live in the finest homes and own the finest things. Now hardly anyone lived here, beneath the terrible shadow of the doomforge that loomed squatly over the mostly-abandoned remains of the neighborhood. It made Aquaria sad to be here, sad to smell the death that lingered on the air and hear the mournful, echoing cry of the murdered soul of this place. There was not even anything good to eat that Surfacers had not brought here themselves, all but a few scavenging beasts avoiding the surrounding landscape with the sensible judgement of things that crawled and flew. Surfacers rarely did this. "With these brave heroes at our side, volunteers from Project Freedom," Councilman McGrath was declaring, his round face flushed red from the summer's heat, "I believe we can reclaim Kingston for the forces of life. Maybe we can't stop that - that thing - " he added, making a gesture from his podium at the doomforge as the cameras below flashed, "but we can bury our dead and let the land heal. The wounds of the past can be healed if we are strong enough to look them in the eye!" It was only technically true that Singularity and Sea Devil were volunteers. Ms. Wainwright of Project Freedom, sitting here on the platform with Singularity and Sea Devil, was an ally of George McGrath and had asked two of her most successful graduates to come along to show that McGraths' plan to clear away as much of Kingston as possible to let nature take its course had the support of the heroic community, at least as far as making sure his workers wouldn't be operating on their own. At least the waters hereabouts were clean, Aquaria thought, a little regretfully.

The OOC

Late December 2020 A beach south of Freedom City It was a time, Sea Devil had assured everyone, of great importance. Hydra in her wisdom had provided a great blessing here in the coldest, darkest time of the year, a gift of food, and light, and shelter. Aquaria had guided her people to the site and with a little help from the Freedom League, the nearest tribe of Deep Ones had eaten well - and without conflict with surface-dwellers or Atlanteans. But most of that tribe was gone now, migrating out to the deep waters off the coast that stayed the same temperature in any season. So it was just Aquaria, her friends, and a few straggling Deep Ones to commemorate this rare blessing for her people. She had begged, pleaded with those she loved to help make this occasion a truly special one, and with a few promises of cleaning here and quiet there, she had won the help of important allies for a rare, glorious holiday amid a site made holy by the occasion. The best part was - it counted as community service hours, just the thing after the last time she'd gotten in a little trouble with the law of the Surfacers earlier in the year. Come to think of it, Indira had been there for that one too - maybe why she'd come along this time? It was hard to say. And so it was in late December that Sea Devil and Singularity crouched inside the almost completely skeletonized remains of a beached whale that Aquaria had assured all her Surfacer friends had been dead before her arrival there a couple of weeks before, Sea Devil wearing a crown of teeth and other bones and not much else to mark the role she played in the ceremony as Dagon, Jessie wearing - well, Jessie had preferred her own garb for the celebration and Aquaria could hardly blame her, the traditional Hydra garb not really being suitable for a great many reasons. Still she was here, making a sacrifice out of love, and as usual Aquaria was touched by emotions too profound for words. Crouched inside the skeleton, Aquaria laid a wet hand on Jessie's and hissed "You are the best friend anyone could want." Then she began to sing; a short, ponderous song about the blessing of the cold dark sea, and how in certain very special times of the year, Dagon and Hydra awarded their children special tokens of their esteem before she popped her head out of the rib cage and bellowed at the top of her lungs before adding a translation for the benefit of the humans in the audience - mostly a few volunteers from local communities and a couple of students from Claremont: AUSPICIOUS SEASON! Back inside, she turned a joyful smile on Jessie, an impressive sight indeed, and raised her two thumbs high to encourage Jessie to take her part. - Outside, Nightscale's extra credit project was certainly giving him something interesting to talk about. He was the oldest student there for once, a few first-years there in the company of Mr. Sadler, a parent volunteer who'd been a hero back in the far-off days of the early 1990s, being his Claremont escorts. There'd been music, and food already - hot apple cider brought over from the nearby small town, all of it locally caught fish fried over hot coals, though the 'locals' on the scene here were scaly fish-frogs that looked like they could bite his head off. The Deep Ones he'd seen in Claremont lectures had been fearsome beasts laying waste to Freedom City and fighting superheroes; the half-dozen here (besides Aquaria, the Deep One hero) didn't seem interested in much other than eating fish and watching the ceremony - though he was conscious occasionally of big black-and-gold eyes cast his way.

Make whatever checks you think are appropriate.

Somewhere else There are many roads to the Temple of Vhoka, built on a platform deep above a bottomless sea, far out into the inky void of the Dreamlands that stretch on forever in an endless sky of ever-changing colors that the unwary do not study too long lest they find themselves studying the place for eternity. The Temple is this - a low place like an iceberg in a blood-red sea, a small fragment of curled stone like an animal's tongue extending a story or two into the air, surrounded by jagged rocks like an unholy maw. A perpetual waterfall falls below through the mouth, down into guts that must be miles deep, but the temple itself never floods. Vhoka is after all very hungry. A line of stairs seemed to lead down into the water, if one is brave enough to do it. The roads are this, the curls and twists of the Cosmic Coil that leads one to this place through worlds enough and time. The Sea Devil arrived in this wise - erupting out of the bottomless sea with a maddened cultist in her grasp, the man's mad chanting interrupted by his gasp of astonishment. "What!? But no unprotected human could have survived such a spell - and lived!" "None did!" agreed the Sea Devil before picking him up by the ankles and striking him against the rocky causeway until he was no longer a threat. after that she hunkered down on the island where she and her prisoner had landed, studying the distant fortress of her foes and the slippery stone pathway that led there. Perhaps she had come hastily but she knew that time in Freedom City would not last forever, and if they were not careful, there would be no saving those transformed by the cultists' spell. Her liver turned over at the thought of what had taken place - Lemurian sorcery, Lemurian magic, corrupted by Surface-Men again, this time to change the world in the image of one of their long-dead vassals! It truly was disgusting. She sat down next to her unconscious prisoner and sniffed the air, then after a moment's consideration opened her helmet and pulled a still-wriggling fish from her armor, tossing it in the air before catching it with her tongue and swallowing it in one mighty gulp. Normally she chewed but this was a stressful day, and a thorny problem. Surely she and Tarva couldn't have been the only ones to find the Road to this place? She would take the place alone in Dagon and Hydra and Singularity's name if she had to but the Lair of the Devourer was perhaps a bit larger than she had imagined...

December 2019 Dutemps Tower I AM GOING UNDER THE SEA. I WILL BRING YOU A FISH. Aquaria considered what else to say, then added HAVE FUN AT THE ART GALLERY! It was only a day trip out to the art museum with the glass with her other friend, but Jessie had been looking forward to it and that was good. She didn't want to spoil her good time, so she added a note on the refrigerator that said CALL HELP IF I AM NOT BACK SOON. With her job done, Aquaria headed to the closet where she kept her armor. She climbed inside and throbbed with satisfaction as the space-metal closed around her, the warm liquid that emerged from every crevice inside immensely more satisfying than the cold, dry air of their apartment. She and Jessie had special windows that actually opened, something Eve had said was the "superhero" model and because sometimes the claustrophobia in this little dry space was terrifying. With her armor on, she hung her trident over her back and began climbing the sides of the building, up towards the castle. Was anyone home today? She certainly hoped so. December 2019 "Would Heroditus Stylianos please report to the headmaster's office? He is being picked up." The rather odd PA announcement seemed to make Heroditus' art teacher very worried, and right in the middle of watercolors no less. Heroditus had never actually heard that particular phrase said over the intercom before, at least not when it came to him. "Oh dear, oh dear, well, ah, Mr.Stylianos, we'll take care of everything," said Ms. Zinzendorf. She walked him to the door, a sympathetic expression on her face. "Don't worry about a thing."

Fall 2019 8PM The night of Sea Devil's talk in Dagon the King The reception had mostly, but not entirely, cleared out. Aquaria had seriously considered skipping it but the food was free and she never would turn down free fish. She'd stood by the snack table, picking up kippers and eating them like a Surfacer would eat canapes, and chatted with a few faculty and students who were interested in what she had to say. By the end of the evening she was feeling, perhaps not perfect, but better. Some few of those who had come had been willing to listen, and even that Atlantean prince had been willing to sing to her for a little while. Even if he has no manners. Sweetest of the Fallen indeed! But now the Atlanteans were gone and it was just the monster and the men, and some of the students were milling around with the knowledge that curfew didn't technically apply if you were attending an on-campus event like this.

Fall 2019 Claremont Academy 6PM There was quite the crowd gathering for this year's first Ambassador Talk, both among Claremont students and the occasional adult parent or guardian who had turned up for what promised to be a very special talk. Everyone knew who was coming - Aquaria Innsmouth, the first Deep One superhero! The word 'first' had been used with some vigor when faculty were talking up the event to students, Attendance was by no means mandatory, and many students (such as Watchdog and Daystar) were skipping it either out of personal conviction or taco night, but there were good snacks in the upper galleries of the big classroom that was usually used for the big first-year classes. Headmistress Summers was on the scene, standing up by the snacks to greet new people as they arrived, and (along with a few teachers) keeping an eye on students, guests, and guests of honor. She was currently having an argument with one of the second of those three. "That you would subject a prince of the blood to this appalling display is one of the most deplorable things I have ever heard." General Dalekos had come dressed as a Surfaceman for this event, albeit with the rumpled look of a man not quite used to this particular fashion. "The embassy will certainly hear of this." "Prince Telemachus," the young Atlantean princeling was staring straight ahead in the second row, and looking desperately as though like he was trying to pretend he couldn't hear the Atlantean general arguing with his headmistress, "is here by choice - and by his family's permission," said Summers frostily. "Just as you are here out of courtesy in your role as loco parentis to our Atlantean students." She murmured something else - and then, his face flushing scarlet, the general took a seat in the upper tier among the other visitors for the talk. As more students entered, Summers and other faculty greeted them by name and pointed them to their seats. "Our guest of honor will be arriving soon."

Summer 2019 Kingston Aquaria sat in the shadow of the grim and terrible doomforge, squatting on her haunches as she meditated on the gods and their will for humanity. She didn't like it much here in the shadow of Destruction, where the world still moaned softly in the aftermath of the invasion, but she appreciated the chance for some quiet. Hopping past the memorials left behind for the murdered people of this neighborhood, she stopped at the foot of a dried-out fountain and began to sing. It was a song of mourning and loss, for all that would have been but now would never be, and the booming bass echoed from inside her opaque armor through the streets of the mostly-deserted neighborhood. Would there be justice for these people when the stars were right? Perhaps not. It was a terrible thought.

Give me some Notice checks

Okay, Supercape, make whatever skill rolls you think would be appropriate at this juncture as we start helping rescue victims and figure out the cause of the disaster!

OOC for this.

Summer 2019 London Sea Devil had invited Singularity along on her trip to London, but Jessie had been decidedly uninterested. Aquaria had tried to assure her that her social plans for the trip were only a small part of her agenda, but Jessie had started covering her ears and singing, which is what she did when she really did not want to hear things. So Aquaria had flown out to London in a Freedom League jet, safely ensconced in her armor, so she could tell what she knew about life Below to the heroes who lived on the tiny island where Sgt. Shark made his home. The members of Vanguard hadn't betrayed Shark's trust by telling her where she could find him, of course, but they had been willing to tell her how to contact him. She didn't like the way Surfacers talked on telephones much, but she'd been introduced a few years earlier to something that conveyed messages but didn't make her feel like she was talking to a ghost. And so it was, as Aquaria perched by the Thames, safely wrapped in her armor, that Sgt. Shark's phone buzzed with a message. IT IS I. THE SEA DEVIL.

GM December 12 2018, 11 PM Local Time Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean The A.E.G.I.S. vessel that had carried the heroes so far was finally beginning its descent. They hadn't had long to prepare, but now they were almost at the destination. Asad, Sgt. Shark and Sea Devil. An unlikely group, perhaps, but they had been the ones available that would actually be able to participate in this mission. The A.E.G.I.S. commander was a frail little man, with thinning grey hair. He was reading from a tablet, looking over his bottle cap glasses, explaining the situation to the three heroes. "Err... yeah, so... A company that I'm not legally allowed to name was drilling for oil here. And, err, they kinda hit something." He fidgeted a bit with his glasses, adjusting them, before scrolling further down on his tablet. "Turns out that some, errr, aliens had crashed under there. We don't know how long they, err, have been there. But, they're rather annoyed at being woken up, so, errr... They threatened to basically flood the Pacifim rim and the rest of the world?" He looked up, a little smile on his lips. "So, please go stop them, and save the world?"

February 2019 Midnight Manor Loyal worker though she was, February was not exactly Aquaria's season for outdoor work. She could stand very cold water, but air was different and it was nearly freezing out there! So instead she was working in one of the Manor's big kitchens today, cleaning the hard-to-reach areas up on top of the cabinets, and cooking up steaks as she went. The fine fat fish she'd caught earlier that year was more than half her height and thick, and had been soaking for a whole day in big pots full of delicious-smelling things. Now things were cooking on the stove, and soon there'd be enough fish for herself, Jessie, and perhaps Trevor and Erin as well! They had been content to let her salt the fish and store it in their home for a while, her apartment with Jessie lacking the kind of space one needed to store significant quantities of really good fish. She had other reasons for wanting to talk to them too, especially when Jessie wasn't around. She sang to herself as she worked, hopping from foot to foot, and opened the front of her suit to smell the good things sizzling on the stove. She was in her suit for a variety of reasons, comfort when she went outside, and also so she didn't make too much of a mess in a place where Surfacers made their food. She knew what they sometimes thought of that, even though Jessie was typically too kind to say anything. They could be so fastidious!

Seven years ago "Perhaps, one day, Dunwich would rise again. Not as an exercise for visions of madness, but as a true place of realization." Thanksgiving 2018 The Parkhurst Hotel Arcane energies crackling around its edges like so much barely-suppressed lightning, the mystic gateway opened and out stepped a visio n from beyond the very edges of our reality! Resplendent in his starry robes, his eyes glowing with the energies that lay between the planes, the Gatekeeper raised his gloved hands and said, "Hello, Nick!" Kyle and Eric were actually on a first-name basis but they both were working, the latter especially. With the holidays, Claremont students with no particular place to go had been attached to established heroes for a "ride-along" - which explained what Ms. Thursday was doing there. "And company, I see." The Gatekeeper brushed his hair, looking a little distracted; the faint smell of smoke rising from him. "Are the two of you free for a small favor?" he asked. "I hate to interrupt whatever you're doing for the holidays, but I have a situation."

OK, guys, whatcha gonna do about this? @Cubismo @trollthumper

April 2018 The Castle Aquaria climbed her way up the side of the skyscraper, sticky pads clinging to opaque panels rather than translucent windows. She didn't normally indulge herself in this way, but it was much too dark for Surfacers to see clearly outside - and the driving rainstorm outside disguised her from any prying eyes below. The warm wet wind, thick with ocean-scented rain, felt wonderful on her skin. Freedom City was never quite as comfortable as her home waters - but at times she could dream, and imagine a better place. Once she reached the floor where she and Jessie lived, she wriggled her way to one of the secret access panels installed for the benefit of flying superheroes or outdoor maintenance and made her way through a supply closet to the secluded floor where she and Jessie lived. Padding her way nearly silently down the corridor, as usual careful not to alert their neighbors, she took only a few seconds to nimbly lope down to the rooms that she and Singularity shared. She had a fish under her arm, thick and juicy, and there would be frying tonight!

Sloane Manor North Bay, Freedom City New Jersey Thursday, July 12th, 2018 4:02 PM Erick Sloane's beachfront villa in North Bay was far from untouched. The prior day's assault on Kingston left much of the surrounding upper-class neighborhoods in a state of disarray. And North Bay was no exception. Especially after an entirely new force from the Terminus emerged to fight against both the Resistance Force and the invading force. Ironically, it seemed as if for the first time in the history of Freedom City someone could make the claim that the Fens was the safest neighborhood to live in. Of course, most residents didn't have a sprawling underground headquarters in their villas. A team of heroes had been risking their lives gathering and spreading information and equipment covertly to the Resistance in the city. The latest transmission pinpointed where one of the power sources for the device generating portals into the city was. Unfortunately, said generator was currently guarded by what had to be one of the largest armies of the Terminus sighted thus far. To make matters worse it was positioned deep inside the Raymond Nuclear Power Plant. Which had seen extensive renovations by Daedalus of the Freedom League to convert the plant into a virtual fortress. In short, any attempts to destroy the generator would be a suicide mission. Foreshadow sent a recruitment transmission through his headquarter's computer with the hope that anyone nearby would answer the call. When Sea Devil, Singularity, and Cobalt Templar arrived they found piles of Omegadrone armors strewn throughout the sprawling manor. The inside of the home appearing as if an explosive had been set off with the stench of entropic energies wafting through the air. Having to step over the burnt and battered Omegadrones they would find an open bookshelf that at one point covered the staircase that led down into Foreshadow's Forebode. The computer's holographic display had a Power Pike sticking through it slightly covering the top leftmost point on the 3d layout of the Raymond Nuclear Plant. A hooded man stood in the center of the room his back turned to the staircase, a dark blue cape flowing in tatters.