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GM Friday 1st October, 15:07pm The Beginning of Rush Hour... A busy street... It happened in a flash. The truck was stuck in traffic, beeping its horn in frustration. But then, lots of people where stuck in traffic and beeping horns in frustration. This was Friday evening rush hour. Freedom City was the city of heroes, but for all its super powers, it was not immune to traffic congestion. The truck was marked full of hazardous chemicals. And then, it got hit. Three. No four. No five men, marching out a nearby van, in full orange jumpsuits, headphones, and gas masks, and wearing heavy rifles, fired - gas grenades it looked like. Knockout gas. Everyone fell asleep - pedestrians, drivers, the hot dog salesman at the corner, the street performer playing "The Ace of Spades" on a rubber band and a smoked kipper, and the preacher with a megaphone and a particularly individual interpretation of the old testament that did not hold him back from telling the world of his unique revelations. All of them hit the floor, snoring heavily. Cars swerved into one another, crashed. Alarms sounded, and injuries - from minor to more severe, peppered the streets. And one car crashed into the Truck. The chemicals started flowing freely into the street. An unpleasant smell to say the least, and from the warning signs on the truck, a toxic one too...

OOC for thread. Graft and Starchaser hit the ground running with some mad scientist driven by self preservation.

First National Bank of Freedom City [Fens Branch] 10 AM October 26, 2013 It was a typical day at the Fens branch of First National Bank of Freedom; the patrons were waiting in long lines to stand in front of bulletproof partitions and deposit their small paychecks or try and find the money to make their rent - the small business of a bank that did all it could to help an impoverished community stay together. The Fens were poor enough that mundane robberies weren't that much of a threat most of the time. But there were other problems a bank in Freedom City could have. One bright, cloudless day, a crash of lightning and a clap of thunder blasted away the bank's front door, sending the crowd inside fleeing towards the rear in screaming terror! Through the open hole in the wall flew a man like a figure cut straight out of mythology, a bearded figure in a white toga, electricity crackling around his fingers and his eyes glowing with suppressed power. "Hee hee hee!" he laughed manically. "I'm back, babies! Zeus has returned and he needs some start-up cash in a hurry! I want all your money! So start putting it in bags, now!" Bullets cracked off the invisible shield surrounding the electrical paragon, fired by a particularly brave security guard, and with a sneer he blasted the mustachoied man away and into a nearby marble wall with a sickening crack. "C'mon, do I have to spell it out for you people?" he yelled, heedless of the other guard calling the emergency line on his radio. "Hurry it up! Papa Zeus has bills to pay!" Zeus folded his skinny arms over his torso. "And don't think you customers can weasel out of this either, I don't discriminate! Just shake out your wallets and your purses, and put them in piles with the moneybags! My Hera will be here soon, and she'll take care of business! If you know what I mean!"

Doo doo doo. DC 20 Notice or DC 15 Knowledge (Theology/Philosophy) for the heroes arriving on the scene.

OOC for >this topic

Thursday November 14th, 5:00 P.M. A few miles offshore from the dockside. The hustle and bustle of the dockyard was in full display. Despite the large number of scheduled deliveries in and out of the city not a single shipment had been late yet. It was clear example of how efficient the Waterfront could be when all the cogs were in working order. With the day winding down many a sailor was looking forward to finishing up and heading home. And if it wasn't for the freak storm that came out of nowhere they might have gotten a chance to do just that. The sky over the water began to darken to an unnatural degree. The wind violently raging pushing waves to crash against the shore. The sound of thunder echoed overheard with the stray bolt of lightning coming down to emphasize how dangerous the situation was. A maelstrom forming from beneath as if to match the typhoon. And caught in the middle of this catastrophe? Two freighters each incapable of doing anything to combat against the raging storm. The crewmembers unfortunate enough to be in attendance could only watch on in horror as the disaster began to unfold. All the while a shrill cackle could be heard in the wind itself. To the keen observer the storm seemed completely self contained with the not even a speck of the violent gust reaching the shore.