Search the Community

Lukēkā gā'um̐, Tibet Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a breathtaking series of mountains that didn’t quite seemed liked it did flying into the village seemed as classically tibetan as you could get. It seemed almost timeless as if it came fully formed from another century. The locals seemed to be unconcerned with the sudden arrival of stranger as if they see similar things or stranger, than them. It was easy to spot who they were here to see if you knew what to look for her features were the same as Merge, though a more natural beauty. And a lot more conservatively dressed in suitable gear for the cold temperatures of the village, sat at a sturdy wooden table a steaming mug of what smelled like coffee in front of her. Spotting the heroes she gave a smile a stood up to greet them both. “Hi there I’m Nicki. Please take a seat I’m sure you’ve got some questions to ask.”

Lynn Epstein's Apartment. Saturday, June 18th, 2016. 2pm. It was a very mild and pleasant late spring day; there was no need to run the AC, so instead Lynn and Gretchen had just opened all the windows and turned on all the ceiling fans, so that cool breezes and succulent cooking smells wafted through every room. The weekend before, Gretch had offically moved in, and at her insistence the apartment now possessed real live, actual furniture; some of them were ancient hand-me-down pieces that once bellonged to her late grandmother back in Maine, all dark, massive and brooding. Others were recent additions from the Ikea out in Ashton, which they had bought together, because that's what couples do. It took a while to get used to, but Lynn was starting to enjoy the smell of history on the old stuff pleasantly mixing with the new stuff that smelled of dorm rooms and promise. What was a bit harder to get used to were Gretchen's ferrets, Otto and Bosco; they tore around the apatment like they were rats on crack, their long, loping bodies wriggling into every corner imaginable, terrifying Lynn's three cats DB, Mafia and Plaque Attack, who currently spent most of their time hiding out in the bedroom. The ferret cage stood in one corner of the living room, a symbol of the end of the Era of Feline Domination. Out on the rear deck was the Weber grill that Gretchen had also insisted on, which was having its trial run this weekend; it hadn't been fired up just yet, because Lynn wanted everyone to have a little time to have a drink and kibbitz. As for the couple themselves, each was representing their unique stylistic tastes. Lynn wore sandals, a short denim skirt and a creamy, sleeveless cotton blouse; her hair was up and out of the way, indicating that she was both hard at work and comfortable enough with the guests to reveal her pointed ears. Meanwhile, Gretchen wore boots, loose cut jeans and a black vintage Lou Reed t-shirt; surprisingly, her hair was also up, showing a rare glimpse of her graceful neck. The two women worked together smoothly like a well-oiled machine, a machine that frequently stopped to smile or affectionatly touch a shoulder. Their guests would be here soon.

Not sure if we'll really need this, but a better place for stuff than just doing PMs. For the record, I am a very bad chess player, so I don't think we should get very detailed about Gretchen and Lawrence's game

OOC for this thread.

Friday February 19, 2016 Riverside, Freedom City The Black Box "Can't believe I let you drag me along to this thing," Sam grumbled. "I should be getting overtime for this." It wasn't as though Sam had never gone out to a nightclub for a night of alcohol and bad music before. She'd been a teenager. She'd snuck out to party with her quote-unquote friends at least...hell, more times than she could clearly remember. The alcohol probably had sometime to do with that. But she was an adult now, with real responsibilities, and alcohol now affected her no more than orange juice did. She'd generally found that bad music was even worse when you had to listen to it sober. Now when she looked around at her surroundings, at the pulsing lights, the gyrating dancers, the deafening noise, all she saw was a bunch of drunken college students sexing each other up and acting like hormonal idiots. Christ, when did I get so old. She leaned over to shout in Gretchen's ear, the only way to make herself heard above the din. "Are we sure this isn't a prank? Some Internet jackass just thought it would be a kick to post on your site about a bunch people disappearing from this 'Black Box' club, and watch us waste our time?" She took a sip of her fruit juice, hardly tasting it due to her irritation. "You'd think that if people really were getting snatched from here, the cops would have noticed by now." Assuming the cops aren't a gaggle of incompetent glorified security guards, which, since I'm being all positive-outlook these days, they aren't. "I wouldn't mind getting out of here before the band comes on and blows my eardrums out." A tall, muscular man in a tight T-shirt sauntered cockily up and leaned against the bar next to Sam, glancing her up and down in a none-too-subtle fashion. Without so much as looking, Sam dissuaded him with a raised middle finger before he could even open his mouth. Taking the hint, he pushed away from the bar and sauntered cockily away back the way he'd come. Sam continued as though nothing had happened. "You'd think they could at least include a little more info. For chrissakes, at least the names of whoever's missing. 'People disappearing from Black Box, watch out for the band' isn't a whole lot to go on."

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.

The OoC for this. Feel free to have Starlight make a suitably dramatic entrance, but no combat yet things are afoot!

Freedom City, Riverside Saturday, November 14, 2015 Noontime Asli Saddik didn’t know how people who drove through the city knew anything. On the train or the bus all the buildings and storefronts were a blur; it’s only when she walked through the neighborhood that she could look into the windows and walk through the store, touch and smell things, talk to the shopkeepers and the other pedestrians. Someone else might choose a store based on the name or a Facebook review, but Asli knew she needed to get down there and peel back the mask. She wasn’t just browsing, though. Today Asli was looking for a very specific gift and she wasn’t at all certain in her judgement regarding it. That’s why she had dragged her roommate along on this walk; Sam could walk her into the ground, after all, and two eyes looking for a tattoo were better than one. They had already passed a few tattoo parlors, but one had been shuttered and skeevy-looking, another one had been manned by stoners who seemed to mostly be working on each other, one had ran her out when she asked for samples… it wasn’t a promising experience. Still, Asli insisted that they press on, check out “a couple more places, Sam. There’s got to be a good one in the city, and damn if I’m going to miss it.” The woman’s eyes were drawn towards a shop that claimed itself to be “IMMORTAL TATTOOS” in all capital letters. The building was clean and there weren’t any bars on the windows. The front was filled with large boards, showing photographs of happy, inked customers and drawn designs. All of the samples were clear and well-done, and the variety on display was staggering. There were so many on display, in fact, that she couldn’t see past them, and Asli found herself seriously tempted. She turned to Sam, gesturing to the window display. “What do you think? Do the look any good?”

Thursday November 26, 2015 (Thanksgiving) Silberman's Books Sam cursed fluently under her breath as she tried to shuffle the Tupperware container full of stuffing from one arm to the other in order to free up a hand, without losing her grip on the bakery-bought pumpkin pie. After a moment of precarious positioning she gave up, and with a surreptitious glance around her, summoned a small tendril of shadow which obligingly held the pie for her, allowing her to unlock the door and enter the store. For the first time in her life, she had found herself in surprisingly high demand as a dinner guest. Both her employer Lynn and her roommate Asli had made plans involving her and Thanksgiving dinner, and since this didn't exactly happen to her too often, she hadn't wanted to disappoint either party, resulting in the plans being merged. Asli's apartment was far too small to host several people plus a large dinner, so they were congregating at Lynn's place instead. Asli was with her, of course, and had mentioned inviting someone else that Sam hadn't herself met. The whole thing was creating a decidedly surreal atmosphere for Sam, who had spent all of her previous thanksgivings either nibbling halfheartedly on a turkey dog or high as a kite. Celebrating the occasion by sitting down to an actual feast with her peers was a new experience for her, but she was determined not to show it. She pushed through the door, transferring the pie from the tendril of darkness - which vanished instantly - to her hand. "Hello? We're here!"

Silberman's Books. Saturday, October 31st, 2015, from the Crack of Dawn to the Witching Hour. Originally Lynn was going to give Halloween a pass this year; not that she wasn't going to observe her favorite non-Jewish holiday (yes, she liked it even better than Thanksgiving), but she wasn't going to do anything special beyond having candy for trick or treaters and maybe conjuring up a few decorations. School was taking up more of her time, and since Gretchen had become her personal crime-fighting assistant she was actively hitting the streets again. In addition, last year's Pier 13/Autumn Court incident took a little wind out of her sails, and she still felt bad about how she'd treated Tona at last year's Halloween party. So this year, she planned to keep it low key. That is, until her sidekick saw how pitiful she'd looked all week, what with the sighing and the longing looks at every jack o' lantern or cardboard cut-out of Frankenstein's Monster taped to a window. She hated to see her normally effervescent boss all mopey like this, so she made a decision and confronted her. "We are doing a haunted house on Halloween, right here in the store," she'd insisted. "And you are going to be scary and inappropriately cheerful and have a great time." And that was that. Shaken from her funk, Lynn really went to town, staying up half the night on Friday to cover the place in cobwebs, skeletons and other ghoulish paraphernalia. Gretchen tweaked the store's sound system and ran cables out into the yard so she could set up hidden speakers in the spooky mini-labyrinth her boss had conjured between the back of the building and the carriage house. Lynn's dad Butch dug his vintage 70s haunted house LPs out of storage and lent them to Gretchen to upload and remix. And in the loft of the carriage house, Lynn cleared out all her conjured gym equipment to make a funky, freaky black light party room, where kids and adults could bob for apples, play scary games and make their own Halloween masks. Emails were sent and cryptic hints left on rooftops in the hope that some of Grimalkin's 'friends' might make an appearance. Not bad for a night's work, really! - - - In the morning before opening, the Silberman's staff was rather stunned; Lance wandered around the dusty bookshelves, slowly shaking his head "Uhh, boss lady? When were you planning to tell us about all of this?" "I know, I know, I should have; I wasn't planning anything, but then Gretchen got sick of seeing me all hangdog, so-" "No, it's awesome, I just-" "We don't have anything to wear," chimed in Kiki, who also seemed to be charmed by the whole affair. "We can make costumes; we can use stuff lying around the store, I can conjure more stuff-" "I have lots of makeup!" Maddy dumped out the contents of her purse and began digging through it. Gretchen grinned wryly, crossed her arms and bumped her hip against Lynn's. "See? Told you this would work."

Reputation HellQ Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part One) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Two) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Three) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Four) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Five) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Six) Origin Story: The Wish I Make (Part Seven)

Rolls and suchlike for this thread. Go wild with those Perform checks, Renegade!

July 15, 2015 The Caribbean SS Mictlan The Captain's Table Day Two of the cruise was formal night, which meant the Captain's Table and a chance to get to know the other superheroes either volunteering or working as security for the Mictlan's maiden voyage. Edge and Monsoon had spent the first day of the cruise mingling, Mark and Nina doing their best to put aside Freedom City and Socotra and enjoy a rare vacation. Having gotten to know his girl pretty well over the years, Mark had been worried that Nina would resent being thrust into the role of "girlfriend of the famous UN hero" - but as it happened Nina hadn't spent much time worrying about that at all. "So you see, Captain Festus," the water controller was just saying, pausing as she cut open her rare steak, the glittering yellow at the head of her costume a warm color in the light of the crowded dinner deck, "Socotran refugees will be among the most motivated people your line can hire. They'll work hard, be comfortable even with low pay, and the older ones will know how to fight if there's trouble." "Well, I don't really know anything about that," said Festus with a cheerful chuckle as he dabbed at the steak sauce dotting the edges of his regulation graying beard. "And you know, normally we don't need quite this much security on a cruise ship! But the line wants to make sure the new engines are protected - they were made from experimental technology the US government developed back in the 40s, you know, and you never know what some super-hooligan will try to steal! Hoh-hoh-hoh!" Having been busy with an autograph, Edge turned back to the captain and the other guests around the table. The dining area was indeed crowded; it looked like almost everybody who could had gotten on their best clothes for an old-fashioned cruise ship dinner. It reminded Mark of pictures he'd seen from his parents' honeymoon, and his father's world travels. "People from Socotra get profiled a lot," he said quietly, "but you won't find better people." He reached under the table and squeezed Nina's hand. Eating in costume in a formal setting might have been strange for some people, but this was the kind of thing Mark had quite literally grown up doing. As for Nina, he thought she could look regal sitting in the dirt, much less in costume. "Ah, there's the rest of our guests now!" Festus waved cheerfully as another group of costumed individuals arrived - after all, who could turn down a place at the Captain's Table? No one - not if they were being paid to appear in public in costume as part of their time on the all-expenses-paid, six-decked luxury cruise liner as it steamed from Miami to Venezuela and back again over the space of two gorgeous sun-kissed weeks.

Okay, just in case we need it, I'm putting this here. Let's assume a time jump from the morning when Saku arrived (we will assume she helped out in the background) to the evening when everyone else gets there; I think that will make things smoother.

Feel free to make whatever Well-Informed checks you want to know things about other heroes! Not to mention Medicine for first aid with the Captain.

Thursday April 16, 2015 The Cline House Port Regal Don't make it sound like a creepy sex thing - don't make it sound like a creepy sex thing. Fast-Forward reminded himself as he finished tapping in the number for Starlight's drop phone, having exchanged contact information with the heroine after they'd finished their unpleasant encounter with the city's drug trade. Normally he was much more confident about phone conversations, but he'd picked up on some hints in conversing with the young woman that her situation was pretty dire - and he was familiar enough with poverty and desperation to know how the 'optics' (to use a phrase their PR guy Tony liked to use) might look shady to someone who didn't know him well. With his kids playing on the Wii U downstairs and his wife 'listening' to the phone call while she read a book on her iPad across the bedroom, it was easy to forget just how far up he'd come. Until he thought about the look in the eyes of kids like Starlight - and remembered it on his own face. When Starlight picked up, Richard said in a friendly voice, "Hello, Starlight - it's Richard Cline. Are you busy?"

Silberman's Books. Friday, May 1st, 2015. 12:08pm It looked like it as going to a really nice weekend weather-wise, which usually meant busy mornings and afternoons at the small independent bookstore at the corner of Pratt and Frederick; as much as purists might scoff, Lynn knew when she reopened her family's store that adding the cafe elements would help drive revenue. True, some people just stopped in for coffee and a bagel as part of their daily routine, but they often grabbed a paper, magazine or gift card for a friend, so the hassle of milk and coffee deliveries was, in her eyes, totally worth it. Except for days when the milk order was running late; then Lynn wanted to hang herself. They were out of skim by 10:30 and almost out of soy, which tended to make many of the older lactose intolerant customers grumpy; they still had lots of almond milk, but there were often allergy issues. Lynn was in her office sitting behind her massive desk, trying to reach the dairy for the third time since before opening. "Oy gevalt, this is nuts; who doesn't have voicemail in this day and age?" Meanwhile on the sales floor, Maddy was helping a young couple find a special book for their niece's fifteenth birthday, and Lance was working the bar, a bandana covering his head as usual. Meanwhile Gretchen, Lynn's personal assistant, was sitting at one of the tables with her MacBook, a stack of completed applications and a large Americano within easy reach. - - - There was indeed a 'Now Hiring' sign taped to the window next to the front door, just as Fast-Forward said there would be; now Sam just had to go up the stairs and head inside.

February 28th, 2015 Night The Fens, Freedom City, New Jersey Miras stood at the edge of the rooftop and watched the police wheel the body out of the tiny apartment. She knew she really shouldn’t be here, she knew that it was a violation of the anonymity of Narcotics Anonymous, but her brain wouldn’t just let it go. She had missed Allison’s tousled blonde head at three weekly meetings, and after a couple of drinks the woman’s sponsor allowed that Allison wasn’t answering her cellphone, either. It had been a little bit harder to track her after that, as NA didn’t keep membership records, but she found the food bank Allison volunteered at and someone that Allison had taken home one night. That lead Miras to a dinky apartment in the Fens; at least she hadn’t had to break down the door to get inside. Inside it had been, well, the sort of place someone lives when they’re working too many hours at four different minimum wage jobs. The only thing that didn’t fit, the one thing Miras had been dreading, was Allison’s corpse on her bed, a needle still in her arm. She had called the police from a payphone and waited. To give credit to Freedom City’s finest, they responded quickly to an anonymous phone call from the bad part of town telling them that someone had ODed. Now the witch’s eyes followed the police and the paramedics as they wheeled the body away. She rolled an empty glass bottle between her fingers; it was a simple sort that existed by the hundred in any pharmacy. The label had been peeled off, and someone had drawn dozens of tiny ‘Z’s had been drawn on it with markers and fit it with a new rubber cap. It was perfect to hold a sample of intravenous drugs. A drug that had killed Allison. Miras felt something sharp cutting into her palm and looked down at her hand. The bottle was suddenly broken into little glass shards. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Whoever was behind this would pay for Alison’s death, but Miras wouldn’t let the scumbag take her own life and freedom away.

The thread for rolls and suchlike intended to influence >this thread.

Starlight Power Level: 11 [12] 164/183 PPTrade-Offs: -1 Attack/+1 Damage, -1 Defense/+1 ToughnessUnspent Power Points: 19 In Brief: A former heroin addict and neglectful mother, now trying to use her newfound powers to make up for her past. Residence: Greenbank, Freedom City Alternate Identity: Samantha Lawrence Identity: Secret Birthplace: Freedom City Occupation: Employee at Silberman’s Books Affiliations: Grimalkin, Miras, Narcotics Anonymous Family: Seven-year-old son (Arthur), younger sister (Rebecca), brother-in-law (Omid), all estranged Description: Age: 26 (DoB: November 2nd, 1988) Gender: Female Ethnicity: Caucasian Height: 5' 8" Weight: 120 lb Eyes: Grey Hair: Blonde Samantha Lawrence is a thin, lean woman of medium height, with short blonde hair and a faraway look in her silver-grey eyes. When in her civilian identity, she typically wears jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket, along with studded metal earrings. She almost always has a toothpick dangling casually in her mouth, a habit she picked after she stopped smoking (or, rather, became physically incapable of smoking). As Starlight, her ensemble consists of a utilitarian black bodysuit, a pale grey jacket, a utility belt, and a lightly reinforced mask that covers the lower half of her face. Power Descriptions: Starlight’s light-based powers manifest as brilliant white radiance, which she can form into powerful laser-like blasts of light. She can also imbue herself with protective energy, which causes her skin to shimmer and glow softly, which it also does when she’s flying. Her invisibility is a tad more subtle: when she activates it, she simply seems to fade away in an instant. Her eyes glow brightly whenever she uses any of these abilities. Conversely, using her darkness-controlling powers makes her eyes darken into twin orbs of featureless blackness, a rather unnerving effect. The shadows in the area animate and assume whatever shape she wills, whether it be grasping tentacles or protective shields. History: Growing up wasn't easy for Samantha and Rebecca Lawrence. When Sam was 8 and Becky was 5, their father stormed out in the middle of the night and never came back, leaving them to be raised by their alcoholic mother. Sam was forced to grow up, quickly, in order to protect her younger sibling - every stinging slap she took was one Becky didn't have to. Throughout their early years, the sisters relied on each other for strength and companionship, escaping the reality of their lives by devising elaborate fantasies in which the two of them were super-powered crimefighters, joining the ranks of the shining heroes they saw in the news every day. As they grew older, however, the two gradually began to drift apart. When she entered high school, Sam lost interest in what she now saw as childish games, instead filling her days with parties and drinking, most of it with people she hardly even knew. Becky, however, was determined not to take the path of their mother, and studied hard, quickly excelling in all of her classes. In this way, the two became the classic "good girl and bad girl," and their relationship suffered for it. In her last years at high school, Sam's life began to spiral out of control. A "friend" introduced her to the wonders of drugs. It started innocently enough - a quick joint behind the school after class, but soon one thing led to another and she was taking Oxy, and, finally, cocaine. Then, at age 19, she got pregnant. To this day, she isn't sure who the father is. All she cared about at the moment was that suddenly she had a red-faced, squalling bundle of terror to contend with, making her life even more complicated as she tried to keep him quiet while also feeding her ever-growing drug habit. By the time she was in her mid-twenties, she was living in a hole-in-the-wall apartment in the Fens, hadn't spoken to her sister in years, and was incapable of holding down a job for more than a few months. And what little money she did earn, she quickly snorted. Her son Arthur was terrified of her; all he ever got from her was a cold shoulder, or, if she hadn't used in a while, the back of her hand. At long last, Child Welfare got wind of the situation, and Sam found herself serving a short prison term for child abuse and neglect, while Arthur was adopted by his aunt Becky (now a medical student) and her new husband, Omid. And still, Sam didn't care. Because prison introduced her to something she couldn't believe she'd been missing until now: heroin. All the other drugs she'd used previously seemed to pale in comparison, and was assured by her fellow inmates that this was nothing compared to the undiluted stuff available on the outside. As soon as she was released, she scraped up all the money she could, bought, and prepared for the high of her life. Her overdose should have killed her. Instead, the trauma awakened something that had been lying dormant inside of her for her entire life. When next she opened her eyes, her entire body was blazing with light, and she felt better than she had in years. Her body's addiction to chemicals was just...gone. First came shock, then fear, then excitement. And then, she looked back and realized what she'd been doing with her life. She had alienated the only person who had ever actually loved her, and worse, she had utterly destroyed the formative years of her own child's life. It didn't take long for her despair to drive her back to the needle, only to face an unexpected surprise - she couldn't get high anymore. Whatever her new body was, it couldn't be affected by any sort of chemicals, leaving her in junkie's hell - dying for a fix, but unable to get one. With no choice but to face reality, Sam finally, at long last, realized what she had let herself become. Through a haze of shame and regret, she made herself a promise: she would make this right. While she knew her son was better off without her, she could still find other ways to try to atone for her past. She abandoned the name Samantha Lawrence, becoming instead Starlight. She vowed to make the world a better place for her son to live in, and never once look back. Personality & Motivations: The purpose that drives every moment of Starlight’s day is a burning need to prove to herself that she can do better. She needs to know that she isn’t just another screwup junkie mom, that she can actually do something good with her life, maybe even make a difference. She looks back on her previous life with a mixture of disgust and shame. She will never forgive herself for how she treated Arthur, and still feels humiliated at how far she let herself fall. Her primary goal now is to ensure no one else can screw up their life like she did, which she is trying to accomplish by doing everything she can to disrupt Freedom City’s drug trade. She destroys shipments, scares off buyers, and is not above leaving the occasional pile of unconscious dealers for the police to find. However, she also promised herself she would never kill an opponent, for fear of starting down an even darker road. Personality-wise, she seems at first remote and withdrawn. She seldom smiles and almost never laughs. The most that can usually be extracted from her is a wry observation or snort of amusement. Beneath her aloof veneer, however, she feels emotions keenly - she’s simply terrible at expressing them. She feels out of place and overly self-conscious whenever she finds herself in a purely social environment, resulting in moments of almost childlike awkwardness. Powers & Tactics: Starlight can channel and manipulate light. She can fire destructive blasts of radiance from her hands, or trigger quick, blinding flashes to blind her opponents, or simply illuminate an area. She can also make light pass through her instead of hitting her, rendering her invisible (although she cannot attack while concealed). Her abilities aren’t limited to controlling light, however - she can also generate and manipulate darkness, shaping it into solid objects made of pure shadow. She is no longer made of flesh and blood – her body is comprised of solid light, allowing her to imbue herself with a shimmering field of protective energy, fly, or even transform herself into a beam of light for nigh-instantaneous transportation. As an energy being, she has no need for food, water, rest, or oxygen. Extreme cold and heat (or even vacuum) don’t bother her in the slightest (which she found out the hard way when she accidentally teleported herself into space while experimenting with her powers). The best - and worst - part of her new state of being is that she is completely immune to all diseases, poisons, and toxins - including the drugs that she relied on her entire adult life to get her through the day. She could snort a five-pound sack of cocaine without feeling a thing. While it also rid her of her body’s physical addiction, nothing can satiate her constant psychological craving for the old highs. Which certainly doesn’t help her mood. Complications: Enemy: Unbeknownst to her, a ruthless and highly intelligent drug lord is getting a little tired of her harassing his business. He's begun carefully trying to connect the dots and figure out her true identity, in hopes of finding some weapon to be used against her. Overconfidence: Starlight's comparative lack of experience means she is sometimes a little too sure of herself when it comes to a fight. If she continues on like this, life might still have a few more hard lessons to teach her. Secret: While she never uses it anymore, she still keeps her previous identity a closely-guarded secret, for fear of what might happen to her family. Abilities: 0 + 4 + 4 + 2 + 6 + 2 = 18PP Strength: 10 (+0) Dexterity: 14 (+2) Constitution: 14 (+2) Intelligence: 12 (+1) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 12 (+1) Combat: 10 + 10 = 20PP Initiative: +6 (+2 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative) Attack: +5 Melee, +10 Ranged Grapple: +5 (+5 Attack) Defense: +10 (+5 Base, +5 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback: -11 Saving Throws: 4 + 6 + 7 = 17 Toughness: +12 (+2 Con, +10 Force Field) Fortitude: +6 (+2 Con, +4) Reflex: +8 (+2 Dex, +6) Will: +10 (+3 Wis, +7) Skills: 68R = 17PP Bluff 8 (+9) Concentration 9 (+12) Intimidate 13 (+14) Knowledge (streetwise) 13 (+14) Notice 9 (+12) Sense Motive 8 (+11) Stealth 8 (+10) Feats: 13PP Attack Focus 5 (ranged) Dodge Focus 5 Improved Initiative Luck Power Attack Powers: 2 + 4 + 2 + 20 + 11 + 5 + 33 + 2 = 79PP All of Starlight's powers have the Mutant descriptor. Concealment 2 (visual; Flaws: Passive) (Bend Light) [2PP] Environmental Control 3 (bright light; Flaw: Range [Touch], Power Feat: Alternate Power 1) (Create Light) [4PP] Alternate Power: Obscure 3 (visual; Flaw: Range [Touch]) (Banish Light) {3/3PP} Flight 1 (10 MPH/100 feet per move action) [2PP] Force Field 10 (Extras: Impervious) (Photon Shield) [20PP] Immunity 11 (life support, need for sleep, starvation and thirst) [11PP] Immunity 10 (light effects; Flaw: Limited to 50% effectiveness) [5PP] Light and Shadow 12.5 (25 PP Array; Feats: Alternate Power 8) [33PP] Base Power: Enhanced Environmental Control 11 + Feature 3 (Buys off Range flaw on Environmental Control) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Blast 12 (Power Feat: Precise) (Photon Blast) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Blast 8 (Extras: Area [Targeted, Shapeable], Power Feat: Progression [16 5-ft cubes]) (Laser Beam) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Create Object 12 (Extra: Moveable, Flaw: Distracting, Power Feat: Stationary) (Shadow Shapes) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Dazzle 12 (visual) (Photon Flash) {24/25PP} Alternate Power: Enhanced Flight 12 (to Flight 13 [100,000 MPH/1,000,000 feet per move action]) {24/25PP} Alternate Power: Move Object 12 (heavy load: 50 tons; Power Feat: Precise) (Shadow Tentacles) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Snare 12 (Power Feat: Obscures Sense [sight]) (Shadow Bind) {25/25PP} Alternate Power: Teleport 10 (1,000 ft or 200,000 miles; Feats: Change Direction, Change Velocity, Progression 2 [500 lb], Turnabout) {25/25PP} Super-Senses 2 (darkvision) [2PP] DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Photon blast Ranged DC 27 Toughness (staged) Damage (energy) Laser beam 8 5-ft cubes (targeted) DC 23 Toughness (staged) Damage (energy) Photon flash Ranged DC 27 Reflex/Fortitude Dazzle (visual) Totals: Abilities (18) + Combat (20) + Saving Throws (17) + Skills (17) + Feats (13) + Powers (79) - Drawbacks (0) = 164/183PP

GM Continued from OVERTHROW in City Hall! The Iceberg, headquarters of AEGIS, Freedom City September 12th, 2012, 2.15 PM The walk to Director Powers' office was a short one, made longer by that sense of unfamiliarity coming from new environments and the unceasing hustle and bustle of the American Elite Government Intervention Service going on all around them, reports of events happening around the globe the subject of constant surveillance and study, dour military officers considering tactical difficulties and pondering the best way to safeguard the world marching cheek-by-jowl with lean and excited scientists explaining new breakthroughs in cybernetics and the tantalizing results of new tests done on metals from another dimension, and they quickly opened ranks to accept the neat and professional shapes of the direct agents of AEGIS, who opined on new ways to undercut and overcome the forces of evil and villainy. They quickly stepped to the side to let Agent Anthea, Agent Silas, and the heroes of city hall past, giving them stern but warm words of welcome, and more than a few quiet waves and thumbs-up as they went by. For their part, the guiding agents looked neither right nor left, acknowledged only a few close friends and followed the dark purple line that led them straight to the office whose thick oak door was marked H. Powers, Dir. of AEGIS with a smaller sign below it saying "Do not disturb, bureau business" Knocking three times on the panels, Anthea called in "Mr. Powers! The fine people you wanted are here." From within there was a brief sound like shuffling papers, and then the door was abruptly opened to reveal the towering, eyepatched, confident and vigorous master of the agency, Harry himself. Dressed in a neat black AEGIS uniform, the man oozed command from every inch of his being. "It says do not disturb, agent" he snapped, shutting the door behind himself and briskly taking the lead down another corridor following a green line "Do you think I put it there as a test? Dismissed! You and Silas are due for another assignment in four hours in India, get ready" he said crisply, folding his hands behind his back and leading the team in silence to a room dominated by a narrow table and large screen. Silas and Anthea saluted and marched off, Silas giving a slight wave before they were out of sight. Tapping a small button on the table, the screen clicked to green life, showing the schematic of a ship, and the layout of a base. Turning to face the assembled heroes Harry Powers said gravely "Good day, I am Powers, the director of this agency, I am pleased to meet you and would like to request your assistance on a delicate mission." turning to Gabriel he added "Of course, I cannot force you to help, and if you would prefer not to act in tandem with us, you may use the information I am about to give you as you see fit." he leaned on the table, his one eye boring into the very hearts of the group who had saved city hall "Any questions before I begin?"

GM May 02, 2012. 12:41AM Chico Morricone had always been a powerful man, and he knew it. He revelled in that power, drank it in, and imposed it on anyone he could. It didn't matter how, whether violently, or sometimes just financially, but he loved to know that there were people under his heel, people he made to feel helpless. It was what had brought him to the top, what had made him a force to be reckoned with in this city. Oh, sure, he wasn't a super, but he had influence, and sometimes influence was better than superpowers. Which was why this particular problem was rather unnerving. The painfully cold air of 3 miles above the Earth's surface stung his hands and face, and the roaring winds screamed in his ears. This time, he had no power as this strange creature that looked like it stepped outside of Hell kept its grip wrapped tightly around his throat, making his head even woozier with the already lethally thin air. "Please... Please, let's go down a bit... it's... it's too high." "Exactly the point, Chico. I don't want a soft landing for you." "But... why..." His vision was blurring. "Because you hurt people, Chico. You hurt people and you like it. Society doesn't need anymore of that, so I'm going to just remove the problem." "I... I can change... Please... don't kill me." "You can change, Chico. But you won't. So goodbye." "Please, Oh... Oh... God...!" The thing let go. Thankfully for Chico, he passed out before he hit the water. ~~~~~~~ May 03, 2012. 7:00pm Bram had been wondering why he was getting strange looks all day, and this situation wasn't helping. He held his face in his hands, sitting in the couch of Marlow, a friend of his whom he often helped move or lift things. "Bram... You're telling me you know nothing about this? I mean, I... I'm not gonna turn you in or nothin'. I like this turn of events. It's about time someone started wastin' these jerks." Bram looked up, grunting. "Goddamnit, Marlow! I don't kill! It's... Disgusting... wrong! Everyone has a chance to redeem themselves. Can't do that if someone kills you!" Bram watched as Marlow's eyes widened, and he seemed uncomfortable. "What? What did I do?" "Sorry, Bram... I just never heard you swear before, even with somethin' like a "damnit". Usually just "goshdarnit" or "dang"..." "Jesus, I'm sorry Marlow. Just... This isn't me. This is someone who looks like me, but isn't me. I don't know who it is." Marlow patted Bram on the back. "S'alright, man. I believe you, but..." He looked at the TV. "We have to wonder what we're going to do about that." The TV had a rather stern looking man with dark hair that had begun to grow grey at the temples. "The suspect of the attempted homicide of known crime-boss "Chico Morricone" has been officially announced as the "Penitent", a so-called hero who has brought the worst of the dark 80s mentality that once plagued our city back into the fore. This is just the first in the long string of attempted and successful homicides against criminals in our city, and worse, against two police officers in the line of duty..." The Penitent stared at the television. "...Crud."

Tuesday, September 13, 2011 11:46 AM Riverside Park, Riverside The Sentry Statue was not what most people saw when they first entered Freedom City, but it was the city's most famous landmark. Almost any citizen, and certainly any hero, could have found it, which was why Liz Moya chose it for a meeting place with Young Britannia. There was a bench there, between the Statue's legs; Liz was sitting there in tan slacks and a bulky green sweater. She had told the other heroine to look for the sweater and the messenger bag she used to haul her schoolbooks around in, but with the lowering skies and colder temperatures (a side-effect, they said, of the Gorgon's approach) the outfit was eminently practical as well. The student-hero had intended to sit there and keep an eye out for the fellow light manipulator, but she wasn't always the most patient person. The young woman decided to spend her extra time studying, and at the moment was nose-deep in a history book, trying to memorize the procession of US presidents. It was a subject she personally found mind-numbing, but it was required for her coursework so she bent all of her concentration to the task.