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GM The night before, everything was as it should be. Gaian Knight, Tiamat, Velocity, Ghost and recent Freedom League recruit Artificer all spent the night as they each tend to do, whether they were sleeping in their beds, fighting crime, working in their workshops. At some point, they fell asleep. Everything was as it should be. As they each open their eyes in the morning, things are no longer as they should be. They are not where they were when sleep finally took them. The Gaian Knight finds himself in a large bed in an opulent bedroom. The large bed is luxurious, the walls covered with masterwork weapons and beautiful paintings. An armor, far more ornate than anything he would normally wear, is on a stand next to the bed. His sword is on a stand next to the armor. It appears to be his own, at least. Tiamat opens her eyes to find herself in a cave lit by torches on the walls. She is in her dragon form, but she is not alone. Guards dressed in black armors with white piping are stationed throughout the cave. They all appear to be armed with heavy rifles of some kind, which will be raised to take aim the moment she stirs. The first thing that the Artificer notices is the smell. The room he is in smells like a butcher shop that has seen better days. Blood and rot mixed with a sickly sweet smell. As he opens his eyes, the view is not that different from the smell. He is in a workshop of some kind, but everything seems to be made from manipulated flesh and bones. He can guess at their effects, but can hardly be sure. It is masterful work, not unlike his own, though with other materials, of course. Velocity is not alone. She is in a large bed, with a black haired man that she does not recognize standing by the side of the bed with a black haired teenage girl and a blonde haired girl around ten. The man is already wearing a dress shirt and tie, the girls are in dark grey dresses. The moment she is awake, they move in to hug her. "Good morning, mother," the older girl says. "I hope you slept well, dear," the man continues, before offering her an arm. "The chefs should have breakfast ready soon." Ghost is not alone, either, though his situation is very different. He is on a small bed, filled with men and women in various states of undress, all entangled and sleeping on each other. Bottles and discarded cigarettes on the floor, the air in the room is thick and heavy. Monday January 13th, 7 AM The Fortress, Empire City Anti-Earth

ooc for this. @Dr Archeville @Thevshi @Fox