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OOC for this. @Exaccus, @Heritage, @EternalPhoenix, @Brown Dynamite

GM Downtown, Freedom City October 31st, 2020 Sunset Howling. Everywhere, what used to be people were howling. Not everyone, of course. Just about 1% of the world's population were transformed, but 1% of the population of Freedom City? Now that was still a considerable number of people. Luckily, Freedom City was the home of super heroes! Everywhere you looked, you were bound to see a hero helping the day, restraining the werewolves and saving the people! If anywhere would be safe on this Halloween, it had to be Freedom City, right? For a moment, the howls were drowned out by a crack of lightning that the roof of city hall. A werewolf with white fur hovered above the building, pulling its mouth back to howl at the moon as another bolt of lightning struck above. It was wearing the tattered remains of a blue and white costum with a yellow lightning bolt on its chest, lightning crackling around its claws. It seemed not even super heroes would go untouched by the night of the wolves.

The Wreck Room. Claremont Academy. Bayview, Freedom City. September 21, 2020. Hinako Fujimori looked over the assembled Violet Squad. Three Seniors, two Sophmores. Though two of the Seniors had missed significant time. The substitute teacher was of Japanese descent, and wearing a pretty stylish red tracksuit with white accents. She seemed perhaps a little young to be a teacher, but not overly so. “Konnichiwa! Watashi wa Fujimori Hinako desu ka.” Then she blinked and smiled apologetically. “Ah, gomen gomen.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t speak English too much at home. Started in default mode. Sorry about that. What I said was, hello! I’m Hinako Fujimori. I’ll be your Physical Education teacher for today. Now let’s see.” She flipped through her phone and found what she was looking for. “Oh, this’ll be fun.” She put her phone away. “So, today’s exercise is a unique one. What we’re going to do is pit two of you against another two in a timed event. Two of you will be playing ‘villain’ with a fake bomb on the second floor of a building. Two more will be playing the ‘heroes’. Lulu?” She looked at the five pointedly until Lulu identified herself. “Oh, good. They did not give me pictures of you guys, so please be patient with me there. You, Lulu, will decide who is on which team and their strategies. The other students will have input, of course, but the final decision is yours. This is both lesson and test. So…good luck and any questions?”

OOC for this. Let's see... @Heritage , @Brown Dynamite, @Spacefurry the thread is here.

St. George's Cathedral 6PM, roughly, Easter The largest and most magnificent church in Freedom is St. George’s Cathedral in Midtown across from Liberty Park. The cathedral is built in the Gothic style like the great cathedrals of Europe. It features tall, thin steeples, a high bell tower, a cruciform shape, and space enough for hundreds of parishioners. The church is named for the famed dragon-slaying saint, and a huge stained glass depiction of St. George’s greatest deed is a centerpiece of the cathedral. The numerous other stained glass windows depict other saints and religious figures. The second Easter Sermon was done and people had filed out to go eat. The topic had been redemption and rebirth, yanno, the expected sort of topic on these sorts of things. It was eloquent, and gentle, with the Archbishop Charles Fairwell doing the duties for today. It ended and there was a food spread out in the courtyard, as it was a lovely spring day. Benjamin Franklin d'Amato sat in a pew still, after people had filed out, and he had his arms were against the the back of the pew in front of him, and he was leaning forward. He wasn't really praying, just lost in thought. This placed hadn't changed much since... well anyway, it was weird. Trying to sort things out, and he wasn't really equipped to deal. One too many shots to the head. He smiled wryly.

The Theater District Freedom City, New Jersey.Tuesday, March 17, 20207:00 PM The theater district was adorned with flyers, streamers, and balloons all in varying shades of green, white, and orange. There were carts full of vendors using the opportunity to sell their wares while relying on the theme. Tattoo artists giving temporary sidewalk tattoos. As the largest concentration of Freedom City's Irish community actually lived in the West End, it was clear that the celebration was mostly an excuse for young, rowdy, New Jerseyites to have a party. Floats advertising not only local artists and plays, but the handful of corporate organizers involved in sponsoring the event were making their way through the streets. The leader of the pack being of course Shaughnessey’s float. The local brew-pub had organized the parade. Partly as a 30th anniversary celebration of sorts. And mostly to drum up business. They had even gotten Jimmy Kirkpatrick, a municipal court judge to both speak at the opening and ride on the lead float. The age of the parade crowd ranged from late teens to early 30s, but most wouldn't have been able to pick Judge Kirkpatrick out of lineup unless they had one too many unpaid parking ticket. But, those who kept up with local politics knew that Judge Kirkpatrick was up for re-election. He was a portly man in his 40s with a tough on crime attitude that would make Gerald R. Baker proud. It was tough to say whether it was genetics or the stress of the job had begun taking its toll, but Judge Kirkpatrick's hairline had visibly begun receding. Though it was clear the crowd was mostly here for the second-most float from the front. The local band, Whipping Dave. With front-man Dave Tennet and the rest of the group standing on top of a giant leprechaun shaped float. The band wearing green, blaring their instruments was audibly getting more of a reaction than the pub sponsored judge.

Week 1 (June 1-June 7) Midland, Texas On the side of the road a four-person pickup truck sat. Two ATV’s sitting on the bed of the vehicle which had no inclination of moving any time soon by the looks of the pair working on the outside of the vehicle. "I tell you what if the Oklahoman wasn’t in office, we wouldn't be having these problems." A hefty and rapidly balding man called out to his scrawny friend who was presently hunched over the hood of a car. The engine was visibly smoking obscuring the family inside from view. Not that had any effect on the pair’s conversation. "Weren't it too long ago you voted for him Bill?" The scrawnier man called back as he tooled around with the truck. "Oh, shut yer trap." Bill retorted. The family inside the vehicle was doing their best to ignore the discussion outside. That was aside from the metallic teenager. Who was waiting for them to blame the vehicular mishap on her? Of course, it was her fault. Why wouldn’t the metal girl be too heavy for the pickup truck to haul the fifteen-minute drive from the Midland airport to Odessa. Never mind that as heavy as a girl made out of metal was, it wasn’t as heavy as the two ATV’s the family had attempted to haul. “So how was the school year?” Bill Hannigan, notably not the Bill outside of the truck, asked the pair of youths sitting in the back seat. Tremayne Hanningan leaned forward with excitement not having seen his family since the last school vacation. “It was amazing! I got my license. I can drive us the rest of the way if you want. Could probably power this thing. All y’all can just sit back and let an expert at the wheel.” Bill looked over at his daughter expecting an answer of similar enthusiasm only to be greeted with continued silence. Tabitha Hannigan wasn’t exactly fishing for what she assumed was fake interest from her father. Yet another person who resented her for sending the school’s wide receiver halfway across the country. She didn’t know what lie her father had told. But, there was no way, people weren’t going to assume it didn’t have something to do with the Hannigan family’s kidnapped daughter coming back made of living metal. “Young lady, now I know you heard your father. Don’t think you’re too big to answer him.” Tandy Hannigan called from the passenger’s seat. The middle aged school teacher was currently reviewing her lesson plan for the next semester. Part of her felt guilty about the fact that she was grateful that her kids were going to school across the country. Rather than risk becoming another statistic in Midland-Odessa’s alarmingly high drop out rate. Not that she would’ve let either of them even consider dropping out of school. Bill, the one outside the vehicle, walked to the side of the driver’s window and tapped on it. “Found the cause mister. Yerr truck’s transmission is shot. Probably driving past the payload. I can have you fixed up real quick. Just call for a tow, alright?” “It was fine, papa. Lulu’s nice.” Tabitha finally spat out. Before sinking further into her seat and reaching for her wireless headphones.

Bayview Bowl at the Bayview Mall. Sunday, October 14th, 2018. 5:00 pm As part of the new intramural squad system at Claremont, members of each squad were encouraged not just to compete together, but to socialize together as well. Each squad was issued a list of suggested group activities, and allowed to vote for their preferred outing. And so it was that on a blustery autumn evening, a handful of gifted students were delivered to the local retro bowling alley for a few hours' fun. Bayview Bowl was designed to look like it had been around since the 50s, ancient history for today's kids; it's design featured lots of Formica, polished aluminum and buzzing neon, hallmarks of the Doo Wop style associated with the old Jersey Shore. All the seats were upholstered in red leatherette, and recesssed speakers blared out Bill Haley the Comets' 'Rock Around The Clock'. But despite the nostalgia being layed on with a trowel, the Bayview Bowl was a laid-back establishment that appealed to suburban families and offered affordable entertainment and classic American food like cheeseburgers, chili dogs and big chocolate shakes. "Well, I don't know about y'all," said Lulu Beaumont as she stood inside the lobby, taking in the crashing of the pins and the smells of hot nachos. "But a'hm gonna eat like a pig!"

Friday January 22, 2016 Greenbank, Freedom City Nighttime It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an off-duty superhero in search of pizza will inevitably encounter something that renders the acquisition of pizza highly unlikely. Buffy Stein had just run out to grab a quick slice from the pizza joint around the corner, wanting a little fuel to get her through her late-night cramming session. She had even had her hand on the door when she overheard the police scanner in a nearby parked patrol car. Apparently something had triggered the silent alarm at a warehouse over in Greenbank. That wasn't exactly enough to make the cops peel out, sirens blaring, so why should she, innocent civilian, bestir herself? Surely no one would expect her to abandon her pizza, abort her studying, don her costume, and sprint clear across the city just because some raccoon accidentally tripped an alarm or something, right? This was what Echo was bitterly reflecting on as the crouched there on the edge of the rooftop in the freezing cold, staring gloomily at the shadowy bulk of the warehouse across the street. Sometimes, it just wasn't fun being a superhero. She was going to have to make some modifications to her costume, that was for sure. Heroes of the super variety weren't exactly renowned for their subtlety, but she couldn't help feeling conspicuous there in her blue-and-silver bodysuit. Those colors didn't exactly fade into the darkness as well as one might hope. Not to mention, she needed to install some thermal padding, or get some new long underwear or something. If didn't wrap this up quickly, all they would ever find of her would be a big Echo-shaped popsicle. And all because of a false alarm at some random warehouse. You didn't get a statue for that. Huh. She noticed something that made her perk up slightly. The warehouse was enclosed by a high chain link fence topped with barbed wire, presumably to keep the contents from escaping. Thing was, she was pretty sure the gate was supposed to be closed. With a whumph of displaced air, she was gone from the rooftop, now standing beside the open gate. The chain that ordinarily held the gates shut was lying on the ground. Kneeling down to examine it, she saw that it had been cut. Maybe the night watchman forgot his keys. And remembered his bolt cutters. Looking up, she saw an white van parked inside the fence. She had ignored it before, but now she saw that the plates had been removed and the engine was running. And one of the nearby doors that led into the warehouse looked to have been forced open. Well, hey. This might not be a waste of time after all.

Rolls and suchlike for this thread.