[IC] Masks: The Unseen Path

[Kirjath]

Liminal
Conditions: Angry, Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

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• Freak: +2
• Danger: -1
• Savior: +1
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -1

Spoiler: Moves

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• The Mask: You wear a mask and hide your real identity. You embody Freak while wearing your mask.
  Once per session, you can affirm either your heroic or secret identity to switch your Mundane with your mask’s Label. When you reveal your secret identity to someone who didn’t know it already, mark potential.
  
  
• Mild-mannered: When you try to use your civilian identity to deceive, trick, or slip past someone, roll + Mundane. On a hit they buy your facade. On a 7-9, choose one:
  - you’re still under observation
  - you leave something incriminating behind
  - you’re forced to make a fool of yourself to sell it
  On a miss, one of your civilian obligations rears its ugly head.
  
  
• Game face: When you commit yourself to save someone or defeat a terrible enemy, mark a condition and take +1 ongoing to all rolls in direct pursuit of that goal. At the end of any scene in which you don’t make progress towards that goal, mark a condition. When you fulfill your goal, mark potential.
  
  
• Thick and thin skinned: Whenever you have Angry marked, take +1 ongoing to unleash your powers.

The noise of the city barely even registered on Teagan as she stepped outside. Living in that sort of chaos for almost two decades had certain side benefits. She could sleep through an earthquake or a supervillain attack, but not her brother crying. It was always certain noises that stood out from the general din of city life, and a terrified scream, while not unusual, still warranted investigation.

The supply of adrenaline she got rushing over to the alleyway was helpful, as Teagan knew she didn't have the energy to wait tables just a minute ago. Even so, she skidded to a stop just before she turned the corner, her mind slowly catching up to her body and a dozen warnings began playing through her head. She hadn't had time to change into her costume, though with her powers that wasn't usually a necessity. Liminal and Teagan Macrae looked almost nothing alike, the tiny mask that covered her eyes and cheekbones was simply to throw people off as they looked for a lanky dark-haired girl rather than a wiry red-head.

Glancing around the corner, Teagan knew she might not have time to morph her appearance. The moron with the ski-mask could be capable of anything if he was dumb enough to mug someone in the open in a city that was renowned for its superheroes. They even had an organization devoted entirely to patrolling the city rather than focusing on saving the world at large. How on earth was this guy thinking of getting away with this?

Maybe it was a trap. It definitely seemed like the setup to a show of some sort. "Who Wants to Catch a Superhero in the Act" or something. What was a lady like that even doing in this part of town? There weren't fancy restaurants or anything around here except for the park. Maybe she was the one doing something illegal.

Teagan shook her head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts. All the information she could act on was right in front of her. Mugger with a knife vs. lady with a gaudy purse. At first she was tempted to use her signature "Hammershot" attack, what she liked to call the move where she would punch an unsuspecting criminal in the back of the head, but Teagan knew she didn't have enough stamina to stretch that far. If she stepped out into the alley, she'd likely get seen by the criminal or his victim, and that wasn't good either.

As the thoughts rambled on, the fatigue returned. Teagan might've been intent on helping, but Liminal could only do so much, and the adrenaline that came from the thought of someone in mortal peril had vanished.

Why even bother?

Another intrusive thought. It was times like these she remembered the first time she'd ever fought a villain. So many cameras and people focused on just watching the villain who held her brother hostage. No one helped, they were too busy waiting for someone else to get involved. Soon enough, Teagan began to feel her anger burn again. This guy was no better than her parents, just taking what he wanted because he thought he deserved it. She was again tempted to turn the corner and clock the jerk when another thought entered her mind. Perhaps this one was a much better idea.

Liminal reached up and massaged her neck for a moment. Her skin stretched here and there, and she had to hold her breath for a bit while her airway was obstructed, but eventually she settled it into a slightly thicker shape. If she could stretch out and morph her vocal chords, it might be enough to try a new trick she'd been working on. It helped that his interview had been playing at the bar earlier, or she wouldn't have had a good frame of reference. She took a moment to mutter a couple quick test words before deciding to just run with it.

"BrAve, robbing someone in my citY." The voice of Sentinel boomed out into the small alleyway. It was really hard to get used to an entirely new voice, but surely everyone knew what Sentinel sounded like, right? "IF you let the womAN go, I'll overlook your, uh...malFEASance."

Liminal winced. She wasn't as good at quips as JigaWatt, the voice sounded like the superhero had a strange cold, and she wasn't entirely sure that was even the right word at the end there. It sounded legitimate, maybe that would be enough. If she could get the criminal to leave, then everyone could just be on their merry way. She wouldn't even have to show her face.

Except that meant she also wouldn't get any of the credit for this "daring" rescue. Liminal quietly smacked her hand against her forehead.

Oh well. One thing at a time.

Spoiler: OOC

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Rolled an 11 to Unleash your Powers in the discord. If this qualifies as more of a provoke, it would still be at least a 10, since her Superior is also at a +2.

[Captain Jak]

JigaWatt
Conditions:
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +3
• Danger: -2
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

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• Stage-fighting: When you directly engage a threat with an audience watching, mark a condition to roll + Superior instead of Danger.
  
  
• Time for the show: When you put on a flamboyant display of your powers, roll + Superior.
  On a 7-9, name one NPC present.
  On a 10+, name two NPCs present.
  The named NPCs must either volunteer help or information, express admiration, or ask for your help, GM’s choice.
  On a miss, your display catches someone watching in the wrong way.
  
  
• The gossip mags: When you tap into the gossip and rumor of the celebrity industry for information on an important city figure, roll + Superior. On a hit, you can ask the GM questions. On a 10+, ask three. On a 7-9, ask one:
  - What are they up to?
  - What or who do they most care about?
  - What allies do they have? Enemies?
  - Where and when can I find them?
  - How could I make them vulnerable to me?
  On a miss, ask one anyway, but they hear about your interest in them.
  
• Suck it, Domitian: When you stand strong while dramatically under fire, roll + Savior instead of + Danger to directly engage a threat.

JigaWatt is, frankly, taken a bit aback by the volume of responses. He's never tapped his audience for help like this before, and the response is...awe-inspiring. And a little scary, truth be told.

The comment section is about what he expects; a whole ton of contradictory and inflammatory opinions that is next to impossible to keep up with. He'd better, he realises, give his fans some quality content soon to satisfy this intense response. For his own good.

It seems safe to say that Lang is both building a power base and probably has some metas secretly in her employ, despite her public stance and connections to Human Interest. The information that comes through in the private messages, however....

The claim of tech stockpiles being quietly amassed about the city isn't remotely pleasant news, and it doesn't take much imagination to figure out that a lot of really bad things could be done with that gear. Opening the attached files, he scans the various locations and looks for anything that might be relevant to them in the immediate areas. The concern about The Team dying is touching, of course, but they've shown they can handle themselves.

The message from Faith Rivers is truly the surprising one.

Firstly – she watches his videos??

Secondly, the idea of a more violent Human Interest is enough to make his blood run cold for a minute. It's bad enough already; but the possibility of what would amount to open warfare in the streets? No matter the source of the information, trying to stop everything from going to hell is a good idea.

An ugly thought strikes him, and he opens up the flyer to the rally. The question is...how does the locations of the tech drops compare in relation to the rally?

[Malexia]

Fox, AKA Kye

Penny smiles a little and takes your hand gladly. "Thank you, Kye. I... I do appreciate that. I knew dissuading you was a long shot, but I'm glad you're considering my words. Maybe... maybe together, we can hold Death back."

She lets the moment hang in the air, not wanting to let go of a rare moment of vulnerability from you. But in the end, she's here for more than just reconnection. She draws back and fishes through her bag, a cute satchel decorated with all sorts of pins, badges, and stickers. She withdraws a well-worn journal and opens to a red bookmark, one of many. Her gaze quickly scans the page, and then with a nod she rips it out and hands it to you.

The page features her handwriting, clear and sophisticated. "This is the prophecy I mentioned. I've done my best to change the wording based on my meditations, so that you have the most accurate and clear version possible. It's still a prophecy, of course, so clarity isn't exactly a stand-out feature. It's in three parts, because I think it's referring to three separate events, or three organizations, or something. Three threats, maybe."

Spoiler: The Prophecy

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I see the break of dawn.

Prometheus in chains, bound beneath the earth for numberless crimes, schemes to escape. Midas in a golden palace, blessed by a great pact, honors a debt. Arachne at the loom, cunning and ancient, carefully guides each thread with an artisan's care. Prometheus poisons the soil so that Midas can nurture a wicked crop, and Midas sows that Arachne might reap and harvest the fruits of hard labor.

But in the end, the chaos is just a fragile veil, and the conspirators three follow an unseen path.



I see the day of reckoning.

Demons born of dragons born of something older than time. Questing knights sworn to a weary wizard who strays from his oaths. A house divided by the absence of their mother. A woman lonely, brilliant, betrayed; a rowan tree stripped of bark.

Fury, zeal, and a violent, discordant song.



I see the long night.

The storm is visible, but not its eye. The shadow is visible, but not its source. The question can be heard, but the answer is silent. Something dark. Something awful. Something even the gods fear.

Oh, but it is beautiful as it is terrible. It has ravaged cities and broken worlds. It comes for us now, and it will feast. It hungers for all we have to sacrifice.

The Adversary.

She watches you as you read the prophecy, concern still radiating from her. "I haven't told Sunshot. This prophecy... it belongs to you and your knight friend, and I think the two others, the lightning-bug and the stretchy girl. If I tell the League, they're going to want to interfere. And as much as I'd love for them to take care of this... that's not my decision to make. I won't take your calling from you."

---

Liminal, AKA Teagan

"What the-!? Sentinel? Here?" shouts the mugger in a panic.

"Sentinel? Here?" says the woman, a gleeful expression spreading across her face. "Oh, my hero!"

Using your power like this is a strain, and if this were any other mugger it might not work, but the guy in the mask is looking around like he's expecting every brick to hide a superhero. Your altered voice booms through the alleyway and digs into him like little needles of fear.

The mugger drops his pathetic knife and raises his hands, backing away toward the other end of the alley. "H-Hey now, I don't want no trouble, no trouble at all, Mr. Sentinel, sir. I was just, uh, showing this nice lady that, uh, butter knife. She dropped it, I think. It's hers, not mine! I ain't no criminal."

The rich lady huffs and tosses her hair. "Patently ridiculous. Why, you uncouth, lowborn, uncivilized piece of gutter trash. Not so cocky now that you're facing more than just a lone woman, eh? Shows your true colors. Sentinel, do dispense with this rodent, would you? I'd be ever so grateful for the aid of Halcyon City's greatest superhero."

For a woman who was mere seconds ago cowering, she's taking things very well. The former-victim now stands tall with hands on her hips, eyeing the criminal across from her with a disdainful expression.

---

JigaWatt, AKA Lucan

Your research quickly bears fruit.

The file from your anonymous source points to six drop-off points in and around Halcyon City, each being delivered to on the 5th and 20th of every month. They all seem to be warehouses, with one exception. Two sites are based in the docks, and two are downtown, but it's the final pair that draws your eye. One is an abandoned building outside of Halcyon City entirely. The final site is a warehouse just two blocks north of the building the rally is set for, owned by what you quickly surmise is one of Lang's shell companies.

Connection confirmed?

While you dig, your fans continue to blow up the video. The metrics are getting kind of ridiculous on this one, and a lucky glance reveals one possible culprit: a fan linked your video to a handful of sites and forums that have a bone to pick with Lang, Human Interest, or both. A sizable chunk of views and comments might not be the Amp'd but actually the flood of new people from Lang-detractor and metahuman-supporters.

It's not entirely your usual crowd; while your fans like you for your charm, relatable nature, and firebrand spirit, this would be the first time you really stepped into the political sphere. The attention from this new demographic will die down over time if you let it, but if you nurture it, fan the flames, and go aggro on Lang and Human Interest... you might start something big.

[DreadPirateH]

Aiden
Conditions:
Potential: 6/5

Spoiler: Labels

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• Freak: -1
• Danger: +0
• Savior: +3
• Superior: +1
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

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• [X] Fight the good fight: When you pull your punches while directly engaging a threat, you can roll + Savior instead of + Danger. If you do, you cannot choose to impress, surprise, or frighten your foe.
• [X]The legacy matters: When you take Influence over someone from your legacy (or give them Influence over you), mark potential and take +1 forward. When someone from your legacy causes your Labels to shift, mark potential and take +1 forward.

It was Thursday evening and Aiden should really have been studying for his algebra test the next day, but the Albion Academy Falcons had a home exhibition joust against the Albion Preperatory Gamecocks and there's no way he was going to miss it on account of some silly math test. Besides, Brady would probably chew Aiden's ear off about quadratics and decomposting or whatever the whole match if he'd let him, and he was bound to learn at least as much as he would from the textbook that way whether he liked it or not.

The early fall made for perfect jousting weather. The gentle breeze carried with it the usual smells - hot hand pies and pasties, horseflesh and bridle leather, and spilled beer. Aiden sits in the home section with a hand pie and a glass of watered down beer, surrounded by a few of the regular gang. Brady and Brody were bickering about something like they always were, and Keely and Eoin were getting comfortable with Eoin's arm around her shoulders. Between their smuggled bottle of full-strength wine and their teenage hormones, it would be all of twenty minutes before they'd be oblivious to the rest of the world around them. "Hey, pipe down you two," Aiden calls to the bickering siblings. "They're announcing the next joust!"

"You pipe down," retorts Brody, the younger brother (by nine and a half months). "Your silly game has got nothing on this screaming match between June Lang and Sentinel!"

"Oh come off it," moans Brady. "Everyone's already seen the interview. You must have watched it at least a dozen times by now. Hey, Aiden, what's the greatest prime factor of twelve?"

So it had begun. Aiden stifles an eyeroll. "I don't know, but you're both going to get a greatest common multiple of my fist if I miss this joust, get it?"

"That would be least common multiple," Brady responds, undaunted. "And the answer is three. Come on Aiden, you should know this. The test is tomorrow!"

An off-panel speaker breaks into the brewing argument. "Yeah, Aiden. You should be at home studying!" The panel cuts to show the approach of three more teenage boys - Doyle, Keller, and worst of all, the towheaded Calder.

"Stay out of it Doyle," snaps Brody.

"Hey guys, relax. Be cool," says Keller. "I gotta say Aiden, I'm surprised you showed up here. I admire your courage," he says with an affable smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brody snaps again.

"Yeah. Courage," Doyle chimes back in. "Tryouts were pretty embarassing for you, weren't they Aiden? It must really suck being in the stands instead of on the field, huh?" He gives a little snivelling laugh.

"Now, now, Doyle," says Calder. "I'm sure Aiden would have given a much better showing at tryouts if not for his injury. Just a bit of bad luck, right Aiden?"

Aiden opens his mouth to speak, but another off-panel bubble interjects before he can get the chance. "Go jump in a lake Calder," Keely growls. Apparently Calder's intrusion had been enough to break her and Eoin's mutual attentions. "All your bad vibes are making my hair frizz."

"Yeah," says Eoin. "Aiden can out-joust you and the rest of your lackeys with one arm tied behind his back. Why don't you make yourselves useful and go muck a stall somewhere."

"You're the one who should be mucking out stalls, lowblood," sneers Doyle.

Suddenly, everyone, even Brady, rises out of their seats in Eoin's defense, fists and teeth clenched. "That's it, let's go!" yells Brody. Keller crosses his arm and smiles breezily, Doyle titters with sniveling laughter, and Calder wears an expression of practiced boredom. "Puh-lease," says Keller. "A knight only accepts challenges from equals." "Which rules you losers out," Doyle pipes up. "Sucks too, I'd love to see you try to take on the White Knight! Especially you, lowblood. Calder would trounce you so hard your lowblood ancestors would wish they'd never had lowblood kids!"

"HEY!" barks another off-panel speech bubble. "What seems to be the problem here?" The panel cuts to show the new arrival, a stern-looking woman with glasses. It's Ms. Walsh, the librarian. "Calder, are these hooligans giving you some trouble?"

"No, Ms. Walsh, nothing like that. Just a few friends joking around," Calder says placatingly.

"Yeah right," says Brody. "You're the - ow!" His retort is caught off by Brady's elbow in his side. Ms. Walsh turns to glare at Aiden and the rest of his friends. "Settle down, you lot. You're just making fools of yourself. You should know better than to try to pick a fight with a Knight Errant. Now, any more joking like that and you'll be ejected. Get it?"

As they grumble affirmative responses, Ms. Walsh saunters off, her attention directed toward other spots of trouble among the crowds. Apparently satisfied, Calder and his posse withdraw as well. "Later, losers," Doyle calls over his shoulder.

"And he's down!" cries the announcer from the loudspeaker. "That's 3-2, Falcons leading by one point! that's it for the first round of matches, jousting fans. We've got more action coming after this break!"

Aww, man! Having missed the joust, Aiden slumps back down in his seat. Brady and Brody go back to bickering, and Keely and Eoin lose themselves in each other's eyes. Just then, Aiden's pocket buzzes. Fishing out his phone, he has one new unread message. From...Errant Red?

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5


Kye frowns more as he reads through the paper. It's meaningless to him, on a number of levels but he suspected he wasn't getting away without reading it. "I will show my friends." he's careful to say, a part of him still wondering why she felt the need to do all of this in a public place. They'd have had an easier discussion somewhere more private, Delphi knew of the Black Knights and his past. What was all this dancing around for? A pang of suspicion ran through him, one he tamped down swiftly. Penny wasn't the sort to play subtle games.

"I suspect they'll feel the same. For as scared as you are, I doubt any of them will find more than a little humor in it. They're wonderful people, capable of greatness. If we had to cross the chasm of night and assail the very foundation of the Heavens, I suspect they'd do it. They all may yet, if your words prove true." He then tucks the paper away, leaning back in his seat with a sigh."I'd tell you to stay away sister but I doubt you'd listen to me. So what are we to do then, we rogues."

[Malexia]

Errant White, AKA Aiden

This is what it's all about; good friends, good traditions, and good food. These moments are what make it all worth it, from the smells of pastries to the laughter and mockery of the usual suspects. In this space, you're just Aiden. No big heroics, no responsibilities, just raw revelry.

And then... a message from the last person you'd expect: Errant Red, a Knight of Albion.

You haven't had much interaction with the Red Knight. Maelan Barzic, bearer of the mantle, is a man of action that has little time for minced words. You last saw him, briefly, around the time of Eoin Brannagh's funeral. He's been in Egypt for the past year or so, fighting alongside a few other high-tier heroes as they tried to stop the supervillains Nebekhara, Stormwall, and Firewing from raising an army of the dead and reanimating an ancient Egyptian god. Their battle took them into the depths of old tombs and even into the very underworld, or so you heard from articles about the continuing conflict.

You weren't aware the conflict was over, though a quick internet search reveals a recent article (dated yesterday evening, in fact) interviewing Atlas, another member of the hero strike force. Atlas attests that Nebekhara is dead, Stormwall is in the Cold Room, and Firewing is still at large, but that the ritual has been stopped conclusively and none of the three will get a second chance at bringing back Apophis.

It's surprising that Maelan would reach out to you so soon after completing his task, but he's never been one to draw things out. Through a secure channel, he sent you:

Spoiler: Maelan's Message

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"Aiden. Errant White. I'm back from Egypt, and Bartimaeus tells me you've been fighting the good fight. The old man seems to think highly of your potential.

I want to put that to the test. The other Knights aren't over Eoin's death, but I've lost a soldier before. What matters is your ability to replace him. If you think you have what it takes, and you're ready to prove yourself, come to Castle Grail.

I'll be waiting.
-Maelan Barzic"

Castle Grail. Stronghold of the Knights, formed of enchanted stone, home of Bartimaeus the Wise, and where you were became a Knight when Durendal chose you. The castle is both inside Halcyon City and outside it, existing in a pocket dimension that overlays a quiet park near the Albian community in Halcyon.

And Maelan Barzic, the Red Knight, wants you to come to Castle Grail and prove yourself to him.

If you impress the Knight, it could be the first step to making the rest of the Knights Errant accept you as the new Errant White. You could be one of them, reveling in their victories and sharing in their losses, instead of watching from the sidelines as they treat you like a pretender and a child.

"Come on, we gotta defend our honor!"

"All I have to do is finish this homework and watch the Falcons kick ass."

Brody and Brady are getting into another argument, and it interrupts your thought process.

"Look," says Brody, "We both agree that Calder's idiots need to be taught a lesson. So let's teach 'em."

Brady rolls his eyes and looks over at you. "Talk some sense into him, Aiden?"

---

Fox, AKA Kye

The drinks that Penny ordered finally get here: flavored lemonade with real fruit. She takes a big gulp of hers - mango dragonfruit - and sighs contentedly. "That's the stuff."

She taps the table and looks up, not quite meeting your gaze as she thinks over something in her head. "You know, Kye, if you guys really do chase after New Dawn... maybe we compromise. You don't want me to go, and I don't want you to go, and neither of us are going to budge on going, so... maybe we go together?" She glances back down, catching your gaze and holding it. "I'm stronger now. Stronger than I was at Joy."

She takes another sip of her drink and lets the look break. "I know there's a lot on your mind. The Knights. Your team. Revenge. But you don't have to face all that alone. You helped me when I was vulnerable, and now I want to help you. I'm getting better at being in combat, at using my powers, at standing up for myself. The League are wonderful, and I'm grateful for their help, and I think your team could get a lot of benefit from the League's help, too. But I know there are places the League can't go, things they're not allowed to acknowledge."

"In my visions, there are blind spots. Areas of darkness growing like tumors. Something is interfering with my foresight." A shadow falls over her expression, and for a moment she's more Delphi than Penny, but then it passes.

"Anyways, whatever you decide, thank you for coming. For listening. If you don't want to stay, I understand, but I really would like to catch up. A lot has happened since the last time we reallly had a chance to talk, and I miss our conversations." She smiles at you, a ray of sunshine utterly at odds with her previous dark topics.

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5

"That is a call the whole team would need to make, I don't speak for all of us. Nor does the prancing attention sponge or the knight. If you wish to propose such a joinder, you'll need to speak with us as a whole. Some other time, some other outfits. Some other place." He didn't touch his drink, a black tea, simply stirring it idly in thought. It was true that Kye, and by extension Fox, was perhaps the most weakly aligned with the team on the surface (to a point he wondered if the others felt the same) it was much more the case that he simply didn't see the need for such clear delineation. It certainly rankled him when Jigawatt attempted more control or command over him or the others than was warranted but the same would be felt if it were Liminal or Errant. They were, in his eyes, equal and any attempts to breach that understanding was a step in the wrong direction. Everyone simply needed to do their jobs and the system would work perfectly.

Which with the present in mind gave him all the more reason, if such a discussion was held with the whole team, a solid vote against the motion. It was all well and good that Penny had found some help in the arms of the League but he didn't trust them. He didn't really trust anyone but that, to him, wasn't much the point. "You talk of paths, sister. Danger on them, visions. Your walk with the League seems just as wrought with danger. Far be it for me to speculate, but I would just as readily assume there are those in your League that sympathize with the Dawn. If not worse. The team might well take to your proposal but I will not. It if were you..."

It was his turn to look away, the gloomy frown returning as a hand moved subconsciously to one of the few bits of flair he allowed. A stylized handcuff on his left wrist, a copy to one worn on Penny's right. Even apart, Kye wouldn't deny their bond. "No...this is best." He finally glances back, taking a long sip from his tea before standing. "Haven't we already been working together? The Darkness has a role, even if you won't see it. I have walked where you cannot since we first met, through this Dark. You may not see me, but my team cannot traverse that distance either. So look to them, and you'll know where I am. I am to them, as I was to you, their shadow. To do the tasks they cannot, with the methods they will not. It was pleasant seeing you again, sister. We'll do so again, if the Fates have it. Come next time the bakery closes, and we'll dance and drink and speak of more pleasant things."

He opens an arm out, a rare gesture, in invitation. Not one for even general contact. "I have...missed you. But there is work to be done, if I am to continue being a good shadow."

[Captain Jak]

JigaWatt
Conditions:
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +3
• Danger: -2
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• Stage-fighting: When you directly engage a threat with an audience watching, mark a condition to roll + Superior instead of Danger.
  
  
• Time for the show: When you put on a flamboyant display of your powers, roll + Superior.
  On a 7-9, name one NPC present.
  On a 10+, name two NPCs present.
  The named NPCs must either volunteer help or information, express admiration, or ask for your help, GM’s choice.
  On a miss, your display catches someone watching in the wrong way.
  
  
• The gossip mags: When you tap into the gossip and rumor of the celebrity industry for information on an important city figure, roll + Superior. On a hit, you can ask the GM questions. On a 10+, ask three. On a 7-9, ask one:
  - What are they up to?
  - What or who do they most care about?
  - What allies do they have? Enemies?
  - Where and when can I find them?
  - How could I make them vulnerable to me?
  On a miss, ask one anyway, but they hear about your interest in them.
  
• Suck it, Domitian: When you stand strong while dramatically under fire, roll + Savior instead of + Danger to directly engage a threat.

Lucan...isn’t entirely certain what to think. He's never really thought about that sort of power before, but now that it's under his fingertips it's easy to think about what might be done with it. The League was clearly at a standstill dealing with Lang through official channels; but nobody, no matter what power and alliances they might amass, is safe from the public mob. There is some pretty damning evidence here that Lang is definitely up to no good; if he fans the flames of discontent he has inadvertently ignited, right way or wrong, Lang's operations could be crippled, perhaps fatally.

And...at what cost? The freedom of those who would commit crimes in their zeal to punish the wicked? The very lives of those who got caught up in violence and anger?

His own self-respect?

Lucen suddenly feels a need for a shower.

Abruptly feeling vaguely ill, Lucan locks the comments to his video and further locks the access to subscribers only. Dashing off a quick explanation that he doesn't want things to get out of hand, he sits back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He hadn't intended to set off a mob, and that was the feeling he had been getting from the increasingly agitated discourse.

Looking at the cross-referenced data that has been provided for him, he comes to a decision. Hopping out of his chair, he darts to the closet and extracts his board. Heading back to the computer, he snags his Red Dragon sponsor hoodie and shrugs into it, getting more fully into persona.

Settling his camera into place on the side of his head, he pauses a moment to take pictures of the computer screen for reference before heading toward his window.

"Moms! Going out for a bit, won't be long!" he yells back to the rest of the apartment. Sliding up his window, he throws a leg over the sill and hops out into the empty air, catching himself on board and powers. Streaking off into the evening, a crackling trail of lightning in his wake, he heads towards the closest of the indicated stockpiles.

Sure, critically actionable information showing up when asked for is convenient and all, but not necessarily reliable. He'll check out the location on his own, all Solid Snake style, and verify the existence of this illicit tech. Once confirmed or busted, he'll be able to take this information to the rest of the team.

Sure, he's no Fox, but how hard can a little recon be?

[DreadPirateH]

Aiden
Conditions:
Potential: 1/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +0
• Danger: +0
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +1
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• [X] Fight the good fight: When you pull your punches while directly engaging a threat, you can roll + Savior instead of + Danger. If you do, you cannot choose to impress, surprise, or frighten your foe.
• [X]The legacy matters: When you take Influence over someone from your legacy (or give them Influence over you), mark potential and take +1 forward. When someone from your legacy causes your Labels to shift, mark potential and take +1 forward.

Aiden stares intently at his phone, re-reading the message a couple of times. It still takes him by surprise to actually be in communication with any of the Knights Errant. It was kind of like being drafted to your favorite sports team directly from your couch. He barely pays attention to the twins' argument.

"He ignored a challenge issued, it's his dishonor to own. Just let it be."

Aiden stops when he hears himself. Did those words just come out of his mouth? That didn't sound like his usual self. It made too much sense. Maybe this Knight business was starting to rub off on him.

He taps out a response to Errant Red, his fingers shaky with adrenaline. He hastily rewrites once, twice, stopping himself on the third.

Welcome back Sir Maelan. I'll be there tomorrow. First thing after school.

Closing his phone, he stuffs it back in his pocket and breathes a heavy sigh. "Hey," he ventures to the others. "Do you guys think Calder's really the White Knight?"

[Kirjath]

Liminal
Conditions: Angry, Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +2
• Danger: -1
• Savior: +1
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -1

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• The Mask: You wear a mask and hide your real identity. You embody Freak while wearing your mask.
  Once per session, you can affirm either your heroic or secret identity to switch your Mundane with your mask’s Label. When you reveal your secret identity to someone who didn’t know it already, mark potential.
  
  
• Mild-mannered: When you try to use your civilian identity to deceive, trick, or slip past someone, roll + Mundane. On a hit they buy your facade. On a 7-9, choose one:
  - you’re still under observation
  - you leave something incriminating behind
  - you’re forced to make a fool of yourself to sell it
  On a miss, one of your civilian obligations rears its ugly head.
  
  
• Game face: When you commit yourself to save someone or defeat a terrible enemy, mark a condition and take +1 ongoing to all rolls in direct pursuit of that goal. At the end of any scene in which you don’t make progress towards that goal, mark a condition. When you fulfill your goal, mark potential.
  
  
• Thick and thin skinned: Whenever you have Angry marked, take +1 ongoing to unleash your powers.

Teagan pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She should've just left this one alone. It was bad enough that the mugger had "surrendered" rather than just running away, but now the victim was demanding some vigilante justice. Condescendingly, too. The anger she'd felt just a moment ago melted away in the face of such sheer absurdity. Teagan just wanted to turn the corner and shout "Run, you idiot," but that would probably just make things worse. And revealing to either of these people that she had stretchy powers seemed like a recipe for disaster, especially so close to where she worked for a living. She definitely wasn't going to get credit for this one, but Teagan was finding it difficult to care anymore. Everyone sucked here.

Her throat had already eased back into its original shape once she relaxed again. No matter what form she molded herself into, using her powers was a lot like clenching a fist; you could hold it for as long as you wanted to, but eventually it would start to hurt. This situation didn't seem as dangerous anymore now that the criminal was disarmed, and Teagan really just wanted to go home.

"Oh wow, did you see Sentinel?" She said in her best attempt at an awestruck teenager as she walked around the corner. Halfway through the ruse, she just gave up. "He was right there! He...left. He's gone. Like you two should be." Both the mugger and the victim were starting to wear her patience thin with their antics, and this sort of situation could be resolved without her at this point.

"Look," she said to the man in the ski mask as she pulled her phone out, "if you 'ain't no criminal' then just leave already. Otherwise I'm callin' the cops. Or maybe Sentinel will be back, who knows."

At this point, she wouldn't be surprised if another superhero showed up as well. It was a big city, superhero sightings weren't uncommon.

"And you! Lady. I'm sorry he ruined your evening. If you want to press charges, you can wait for the police to show up, and then maybe you can sue him for even more money you don't need."

Without another word, she just dialed the city's emergency line, fully intending to report the incident and be on her way. It was Halcyon City, after all. A good portion of the populace was rather acclimated to all this nonsense.

[Malexia]

Fox, AKA Kye

Penny smiles at you, accepting your words as enough for now. "I'd like that, Kye. I'll be there. If not tomorrow, then, soon. The League can't keep me up late every night."

She goes in for a hug, and then you're alone again, setting that moment behind you.

...

The dark has settled in when we see you again. Images of the bookstore and the museum. The hunt.

You know where most of them are, now, though a few details evade you. All that's truly left is long nights of reconnaissance. Planning. Preparing. Deciding what actions are worth taking. The road ahead is long, but it leads to the power you crave, you feel this in every bone. The witch's payment is the beginning of something glorious, if only you can solve the puzzles laid out for you.

You haven't received correspondence from Corax since her message to the whole team. But as night envelops the city, that changes.

Spoiler: Veil Correspondence

Show

You're ready for the next step, Fox. There's a spell that lets two people talk face-to-face without being in the same room. More secure than using the internet, and has some mystic benefits.

You'll need a tall mirror, lavender for burning, lots of salt, and something that can draw on glass. Then just follow the instructions on page 113. The pass-symbol is the roman numeral for 17 inside of a pentacle.

See you soon.

Included with the message is a photo example of the symbol she describes, apparently drawn on a mirror in a dark room.

---

JigaWatt, AKA Lucan

Your moms call after you, but you're already out the door and into the night air.

The feeling of flying is sensational, and you get to revel in it as you soar through the sky. You see other supers, heroes just like you - and a handful of villains, usually being chased - flying above the city on their way to missions, or drinks, or home. When you can fly, you tend to find any excuse to do it.

Your powers take you through the city to one of the downtown stockpiles. It's small for a warehouse, tucked away behind the street-facing buildings. Once upon a time it probably supplied a shop in the area, but the windows are boarded up and all signage has been stripped away. At a glance, this place is a decrepit wreck, abandoned for years.

But for an abandoned warehouse, it sure has nice security. The two side doors both have fancy electronic locks that are still receiving power, and the garage door looks new, and actually locks into the ground when not in use. A handful of active security cameras point at the warehouse entrances. This place is definitely benefiting from Junebug tech.

Of course, that alone isn't incriminating. If you want real proof that something sketchy is going on, you'd have to take a closer look.

---

Errant White, AKA Aiden

Eoin and Keely either don't hear the question or don't process it, oblivious to just about everything that isn't each other.

Brody scoffs. "He's too much of a tool. If he were a Knight Errant, he'd trip over his own ego on every mission and fall into a monster's mouth."

Brady shrugs. "No one else has come forward. It doesn't really matter, does it?"

Brody glares at him. "Of course it matters! You really think the Knights would take someone like him? They only accept the best."

The thought comes unbidden: But it's not up to the Knights.

Durendal chose you, but the Knights had no say in that. If Cordelia Lennox had gotten final say on the new Errant White, there wouldn't have been a new Errant White until the Knights had time to mourn and to start thinking about choosing a successor. Instead, you happened.

Beside the twins, Eoin and Keely finally break embrace for a moment. The conversation has finally reached Eoin's ears, it seems. "If Calder is a Knight, someone should really tell the others what a jerk he is."

Keely grimaces. "And if he isn't, all the more reason. But I can't believe someone would be stupid enough to lie about the mantle. So, I guess we're just going to have a bad Errant White for a while."

---

Liminal, AKA Teagan

The woman's cocky, lovestruck attitude vanishes once she sees you. She deflates to an almost comical degree, mocking glee replaced by disappointment and irritation. "He's gone? Without even saying hello or offering me a ride home in his arms?"

You start dialing.

The mugger blinks a few times. "Wait, so... he's gone?" He glances at the knife, then at you, Teagan. The gears turn in his head ever so painfully slowly, grinding and creaking. "Uhhh..."

The woman glares at him. "Oh, don't you even think about it. You're going to sit right here and wait for the constabulary to throw you in jail, you brigand."

As you reach the emergency services, the mugger gives one final glance at the knife... and takes off running.

The now-very-far-from-a-victim victim scoffs and points at him. "He's getting away! Sentinel! Or you! Someone, catch him! He tried to mug me!"

The line operator, by contrast, is very polite and patient as she listens to you explain the situation. She promises the city will send an officer to handle the situation.

"Are you even listening to me? Hey! Hey!" The rich lady starts waving her hands in front of your face, her glare reaching new heights of entitled attitude.

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5

Alone wasn't much of a new feeling for Kye as he watched Penny go, a small frown slowly creasing its way back to his lips. This wasn't the end of this particular argument and he feared the League wouldn't provide them much chance or time to discuss the motion of them joining forces. He wasn't fond of sending messages to the team but this one seemed appropriate. He punched out a quick message before going about the rest of his afternoon.

[Spoke to Delphi. She wants to combine forces re: New Dawn. Hard pass.]

When his phone buzzes as night falls, he half expects another message from Hastings or even one of the team though Corax isn't the last person he'd expected. Another "meeting" though this one seemingly closer to in person. The ingredients weren't difficult to come by, even if he didn't have a number of common reagents stuffed in what little personal space he had in the small attic to the bakery. It was the best the Knights could offer and they gave him as much space as they could. They didn't have much either. The bakery was an island in hostile waters now. Some had other places they could go, homes and apartments, but for the rest...the small second floor that was meant for storage and the smaller attic was really all they had left.

The mirror...would be more of a problem. A large mirror would be easy, the bathroom to the bakery had one. But a tall one? He'd need to go to a department store or something...hardly secure...but it was all he had that wasn't Camp Joy, a total nonstarter, or Hasting's own absurdly large closet complete with changing room. So with a costume, reagents and the book in question in hand, he took to the nearest clothing store to preform the next in a sample of rituals.

[DreadPirateH]

Aiden
Conditions:
Potential: 1/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +0
• Danger: +0
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +1
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• [X] Fight the good fight: When you pull your punches while directly engaging a threat, you can roll + Savior instead of + Danger. If you do, you cannot choose to impress, surprise, or frighten your foe.
• [X]The legacy matters: When you take Influence over someone from your legacy (or give them Influence over you), mark potential and take +1 forward. When someone from your legacy causes your Labels to shift, mark potential and take +1 forward.

Aiden laughs along with the rest of them, but Keely's last bit hits him. We're just going to have a bad Errant White for awhile.

"Is he a bad Errant White? Or she, I guess. Whether or not it's really Calder in the armor, they're doing a good job though, aren't they? They helped save those people at the Human Interest rally. And there was the kittens in the burning building just this week. Isn't that what it's about?"

Another buzz from his phone. Another message from Errant Red? He hurriedly grabs his phone to check and has to try to hide his disappointment when he sees it's just Fox.

Spoke to Delphi. She wants to combine forces re: New Dawn. Hard pass.

Scowling as he reads the message, he taps out a response with two thumbs. Of course Fox wouldn't want to team up. He might actually have to listen to somebody else for once. But Corax didn't seem very trustworthy. She was like Fox, doling out as little as she had to to get what she wanted.

This New Dawn thing is big. If the League is asking for our help, we should work with them.

[Captain Jak]

JigaWatt
Conditions:
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +3
• Danger: -2
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• Stage-fighting: When you directly engage a threat with an audience watching, mark a condition to roll + Superior instead of Danger.
  
  
• Time for the show: When you put on a flamboyant display of your powers, roll + Superior.
  On a 7-9, name one NPC present.
  On a 10+, name two NPCs present.
  The named NPCs must either volunteer help or information, express admiration, or ask for your help, GM’s choice.
  On a miss, your display catches someone watching in the wrong way.
  
  
• The gossip mags: When you tap into the gossip and rumor of the celebrity industry for information on an important city figure, roll + Superior. On a hit, you can ask the GM questions. On a 10+, ask three. On a 7-9, ask one:
  - What are they up to?
  - What or who do they most care about?
  - What allies do they have? Enemies?
  - Where and when can I find them?
  - How could I make them vulnerable to me?
  On a miss, ask one anyway, but they hear about your interest in them.
  
• Suck it, Domitian: When you stand strong while dramatically under fire, roll + Savior instead of + Danger to directly engage a threat.

Now, the obvious play seems to be employing his sweet powers like he did back at the raid in the Warrens, short out the security system and slip inside. Obvious, except for the level of tech that's likely behind the system in question. Any truly competent system would likely set off some sort of alarm if its power was interrupted; the 'quick and easy' way would likely prove disastrous.

Even the best security systems often are more lightly secure at upper levels, however; he might be able to get access via the roof. Taking care to stay out of the field of any of the cameras he could see, JigaWatt does a quick survey of the building's exterior, looking for his best way in.

The others would probably wouldn't believe this without seeing it, and maybe not even then. It's not like he can't use care and forethought before doing something....

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Assess the Situation: What's the best way to get into the warehouse undetected? 9

[Malexia]

Fox, AKA Kye

The clothing store employees give you a few weird looks, but this is Halcyon City, so they forget about you as soon as you round the corner and duck into the changing rooms. The mirror in there seems... adequate, if not ideal.

The spell is quick to set up, and you lay out the requisite half-circle of salt around the mirror. The lavender is set to burn, and you draw various symbols and mutter soft incantations as the book directs you. The final symbol is that "pass-code," which the book tells you is how two mirrors find each other. It's very similar to the first spell she taught you, the transposition, but this time you're transfering light and sound instead of physical matter.

When the final word leaves your lips, all the symbols on the mirror vanish, and then your reflection vanishes from the mirror as well, replaced by an image of a darkened room lit only by burning lavender and a handful of candles outside a salt circle identical to yours. And, of course... Corax.

The witch herself stands on the other side of the mirror, adorned in finest feathers and that signature mask. She holds a copy of A Practical Guide to Sympathetic Magic in her hands, and when the image comes into clarity she snaps the book shut and sets it down. She tilts her head, face hidden just like yours, and murmurs in a low, rasping voice, "Quick learner. Good."

Corax draws a complex crystalline object from her robes, then snaps it in half. A burst of sparks is unleashed and passes through the mirror to swirl around you before being drawn into the salt and turning it red.

"We can speak freely, now. The spell in that crystal was originally created by my master herself, so there's only a handful of spellcasters who could pierce its wards. Now that we are alone and secure... I suspect you have questions. Ask whatever you like, though I cannot promise I will have satisfying answers for every question."

---

Errant White, AKA Aiden

Keely shrugs. "Meh. Saving kittens is a job for like, firefighters, isn't it? When I think of a knight, I think of quests and destinies, killing monsters and rescuing princesses. Big stuff. Leave the little stuff for the smallfolk, right?"

Brody chimes in, "I'm sure the real Errant White is out doing that stuff. He's a knight - or, er, she's a knight."

Brady frowns. "What, just in addition to the kittens?"

Brody scratches his chin. "Maybe. Or... that's not even the real Errant White, just some lame kid playing dress-up." He snaps his fingers. "Oh! Oh, that would be so awful, and also so delicious: what if Calder is the guy in the costume, but not the Knight Errant?"

Eoin rolls his eyes. "That's a stupid theory even for you."

---

JigaWatt, AKA Lucan

Your scan of the warehouse gives quick results: every proper entrance is secured tight, but one of the boarded-up windows isn't very well boarded-up. You manage to squeeze inside with little effort and little noise produced, and then you're in the warehouse, cloaked in the shadows up high.

The interior of the warehouse looks far more active than it should be, but you already figured out this tip was legit. It doesn't surprise you to see tech inside all crated up, but it does surprise you to see a few extremely familiar pieces of tech: electronics equipment that are a perfect match for some of what you destroyed back at the New Dawn lab.

The handful of mercenaries patrolling the interior... they look like the ones at the lab too. This whole warehouse... it's a New Dawn supply cache.

Your revelation is interrupted by the distinct clacking of high heels on cold stone. For a second you wonder if June Lang herself might be here, ready to get caught in the act, but instead a woman you've never seen before enters the warehouse, clothed in business-formal and with sunglasses like the Secret Service wear. She has dark hair and thin lips, but you can't see her eyes.

She stops in front of a nervous-looking mercenary and smiles at him. "No fond hello? No smile for me? You should really smile more, you know; it's good for your health."

The mercenary plasters on a very flimsy smile, and she laughs. "You're adorable. Now, have the guards seen anything suspicious tonight?"

The mercenary shakes his head. "No, ma'am. All clear."

She taps her chin. "Hmm. Then check again." Her smile goes icy. "Full sweeps every ten minutes if you have to, but the boss says we get an intruder tonight, and I will be damned if I let some Halcyon rat sniff us out that easily."

The mercenary nods hurriedly and scurries off to deliver her orders. Left alone, the woman sits down on a crate and takes in a deep breath... and then you feel something crawling over your thoughts.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Roll + Superior to resist her psychic abilities and escape notice. On a 10+, her ability passes over you without noticing your presence. On a 7-9, mark a Condition to escape notice or let her detect you but with enough of a delay for you to start running. On a miss, she detects your presence and catches you flatfooted.

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5

Unsatisfying was a word. He doubted it'd even approach that if he asked half the questions he wanted answers to. Why him came first to his mind, what was Corax getting out of helping him? It wasn't likely she was doing it out of the kindness of her own heart. That wasn't even the paranoid half-animal brain talking, it was a reasonable suspicion that there was something to gain in using him for whatever ends she had planned and the lessons were just a side product of it. She wouldn't, he suspected, expose that. You didn't become as powerful as Corax by telling every low rung agent in your employ what you had planned and there was the unmistakable pang of self delusion in thinking he was even low rung.

The small paranoid voice had its own space to play in though. The thing with it was most people who had issues with anxiety or low level paranoia knew the voice in their head wasn't rational. They knew that it was just something they were thinking from left field, something seditious and self destructive, a battle to fight every day not to let it pull you into the mess you really were on the inside. It didn't matter knowing that, it was there and it effected everything you did. So while it was rational to distrust this Sorcereres, it was probably not rational to paint her with a large target. Even as she lifted her hand to do...whatever it was she'd done with the crystal, he had to choke down the urge not to leap at the mirror. To anticipate some kind of trap, here and now, that was being sprung. An even deeper one screaming she could probably read his mind, knowing all of this.

With folded arms, he took another look over the masked witch from behind his own. How much did she actually know? About his blood, about his actual mission. How long had she been watching before coming forward with a helping hand. What did she have planned for the team, who she'd hired to hit the New Dawn base. How did the other three factor into her plans and when they were no longer needed how were they going to get free of those waiting jaws? And they were waiting, weren't they? They were in danger, like a small boat on a large lake with a storm coming in. It was all around them, they could see it but it wasn't coming fast and there wasn't anything they could do about it anyway. He'd take to it, he hoped, with the same nihilistic glee he was taking everything else up to this point. It didn't matter, none of this mattered. All the power and secrecy, the small boat and the storm, jaws and witches were all just means to one very final end and then he could embrace the Dark and it'd all be over. No more shame, no more fear, no more dread.

"No questions." he rattled, offering a languid shrug though his tone lingered at the end. No questions he could ask she wouldn't lie about. What was the point in asking when you weren't going to get an honest answer. Couldn't be shocked if you never let them feed you a line. "No point." he concludes, glancing at the now glowing red salt for a moment before his mask turns back to the mirror. There might be, not that he'd know himself, some level of conditioning in it all. Knights didn't ask questions about their orders. The Sons and Daughters of Albion were in hostile land with a mission, hesitation or mistrust in one another would be death. "You know something more about New Dawn then you are telling us." Not a question, a fact. "Answer would be unsatisfying, no reason to ask. You knew Delphi and her master would be there. How? Matters not. Unsatisfying answer." Another, he suspected, fact. Prophecy rarely lied as his kin would adore saying and Corax had a part to play in all of this. None of that a fact, a suspicion but he would say it as fact. She'd deny it, he'd believe it regardless. No point in cycling through needless words. "What task do you have for us now?" The plural us, not the team us. He had no doubt she'd have more work for the team as well, but in the moment he was here for himself.

[Captain Jak]

JigaWatt
Conditions: Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +3
• Danger: -2
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• Stage-fighting: When you directly engage a threat with an audience watching, mark a condition to roll + Superior instead of Danger.
  
  
• Time for the show: When you put on a flamboyant display of your powers, roll + Superior.
  On a 7-9, name one NPC present.
  On a 10+, name two NPCs present.
  The named NPCs must either volunteer help or information, express admiration, or ask for your help, GM’s choice.
  On a miss, your display catches someone watching in the wrong way.
  
  
• The gossip mags: When you tap into the gossip and rumor of the celebrity industry for information on an important city figure, roll + Superior. On a hit, you can ask the GM questions. On a 10+, ask three. On a 7-9, ask one:
  - What are they up to?
  - What or who do they most care about?
  - What allies do they have? Enemies?
  - Where and when can I find them?
  - How could I make them vulnerable to me?
  On a miss, ask one anyway, but they hear about your interest in them.
  
• Suck it, Domitian: When you stand strong while dramatically under fire, roll + Savior instead of + Danger to directly engage a threat.

The clear confirmation that the tech stockpiles about the city are linked to New Dawn is an exciting moment; this is a huge breakthrough, and he had his celebrity outreach to thank for it! Even Fox won't be able to find anything to naysay about this!

He makes sure he gets some good video of both the tech and the mercenaries for evidence for the others, since they seem to doubt his dedication to the job for some reason. He is, in fact, so caught up in what he's doing that the small panels filled with the clicking of heels don’t intrude on his awareness until one actually comes between himself and what he's recording.

The reactions of the mercenaries...is mildly disturbing, considering they’re armed and armoured professionals. He makes sure he gets a good shot of her face on camera as she proceeds to be all creepy and—

His blood runs cold as foreknowledge of his intrusion is casually mentioned. How? He himself hadn't known he was coming here until only a short while ago; and no one person had provided him with enough data to predict that he would come here – if he came at all!

This smacks of the sort of hoodoo that Fox is responsible for, and that's downright unsettling. Of all of the Team, Fox is the one whose capabilities make him the most uneasy. As the woman sits down, JigaWatt starts backing off slowly, looking to get out of there before a heightened patrol comes across him. Getting discovered not only would be dangerous, but would possibly prompt them to relocate their operation to somewhere he doesn't know about.

The…crawling sensation across his thoughts turns unsettling into cold terror as he realises the woman is meta of some sort, and she's looking for intruders by searching for their...thoughts? Presence? Regardless, he's in imminent danger of being discovered!

Fortifying himself with the assurance that he's good enough, strong enough, and dog gonnit, people like him, he tries to hold that crawling sensation at bay as he scrambles with frantic haste and equally frantic attempts to be quiet as he heads for the window again. Panting heavily, heedless of what his panic might look like on camera, he squirms his way through the boards and essentially falls out into the open air.

Lacking time to pull his board into position, he lashes out with a ropy arc of electrostatic attraction at a street lamp and swings on it, turning his plunge into an arc that leaves him stumbling and eating pavement when he hits the ground. Scrambling to his feet, he rips the board off his back and jumps on, sizzling off into the sky without the usual euphoria of flight, his thoughts consumed with fear and the need to just get away before he dooms the entire Team.

Not. Cool!

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Roll to resist psychic detection: 9
Marking Afraid to remain hidden. Fleeing the scene.

[Kirjath]

Liminal
Conditions: Angry, Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +2
• Danger: -1
• Savior: +1
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -1

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• The Mask: You wear a mask and hide your real identity. You embody Freak while wearing your mask.
  Once per session, you can affirm either your heroic or secret identity to switch your Mundane with your mask’s Label. When you reveal your secret identity to someone who didn’t know it already, mark potential.
  
  
• Mild-mannered: When you try to use your civilian identity to deceive, trick, or slip past someone, roll + Mundane. On a hit they buy your facade. On a 7-9, choose one:
  - you’re still under observation
  - you leave something incriminating behind
  - you’re forced to make a fool of yourself to sell it
  On a miss, one of your civilian obligations rears its ugly head.
  
  
• Game face: When you commit yourself to save someone or defeat a terrible enemy, mark a condition and take +1 ongoing to all rolls in direct pursuit of that goal. At the end of any scene in which you don’t make progress towards that goal, mark a condition. When you fulfill your goal, mark potential.
  
  
• Thick and thin skinned: Whenever you have Angry marked, take +1 ongoing to unleash your powers.

"First mugging?" Teagan asked wryly as the woman's hand kept waving in front of her face. "It's always the worst."

There was definitely something wrong with this woman. Besides her desire to be carried home by Sentinel (who didn't want that?) and the fact that her vocabulary was rather dated (Brigand? Constabulary?!), she had just asked a teenager to chase down a formerly armed criminal. This went beyond entitlement and straight to the types of people you saw in a customer service line. So many expectations beyond the scope of reality, so little patience. Teagan blinked slowly, her exhaustion not leaving her any energy to react properly to this sort of ridiculous display.

Normally, she'd use a mask that was more public friendly, but her brain was having trouble working up the ability to care at this point. Her civic duty was done, the lady seemed out of trouble, and home was a short walk away. If Ryan hadn't made too much of a mess, she'd be in bed within the hour.

If she was optimistic.

"Wait for the police, they'll be here in a few minutes. They'll take your statement and drive you somewhere far, far away from here." She said, already moving past the woman and off towards her apartment. "I don't make enough money to go chasing after criminals on my free time."

Well, Teagan didn't. Nor would she, if she never got into the League. But the criminal had already run off, and this didn't seem like the type of caper that would attract League attention.

[Malexia]

Fox, AKA Kye

For a moment there is silence in the cramped changing room. Corax watches you, face unknowable, still as a statue. "You don't trust me? Good."

And then she laughs. Her raucous laughter emerges from the mirror but bounces off the circle, remaining for only your ears and hers. Corax allows herself only a few seconds of mirth before controlling herself and returning to the stillness. "You remind me of Wraith. I was there when the lich recruited him, and he was a raw nerve the whole time. A thousand questions burned in his mind, but he refused to say any aloud. So Lich Girl ignored what he was saying with his voice and instead answered the questions in his mind. That freaked him out."

She pauses, then adds, "I can't read minds, by the way. Not easily, at least. A mind like yours, swirling with paranoia and bolstered by the presence of magic, is immune to the small modicum of mind magic I have access to. But you won't believe that, and you shouldn't; to presume one is safe is arrogance itself."

Corax clasps her hands behind her back and begins pacing within the tight confines of the circle on her side of the mirror. "Nurture your distrust, Fox. Embrace your paranoia. The world is vast and full of secrets and danger. Your suspicions about me, whatever they may be, are likely correct. I am not your friend, nor your ally, and you seem to understand that, which makes you smarter than I was when I began my training."

She stops, her back to you, facing deeper inside the shrouded room. Her voice comes low and deadly. "These are the words that my master spoke to me: 'I am your enemy. I am the foe that will challenge you more than you have ever been challenged. It is through overcoming those challenges and usurping me as a mage that you will achieve the greatness you dream of. I can teach you a great many things, but some lessons must be learned through blood and sacrifice.'"

Corax turns around and lowers her masked head. "A bit dramatic, certainly, but I've never known her to be wrong. Growth is bred from conflict. True conflict, not the false, flimsy conflict of a classroom. If you are to take from those who have taken from you, you must become cunning, strong, and fearless. That is what I offer: not trinkets or praise or books but rather conflict. And through conflict, growth."

Corax flicks her wrist and conjures a chess piece: a black knight. "In this world of pieces and players, there are no allies, only pawns and enemies. Learn to identify someone's role and you gain an edge on them. Do you know your own role, Kye Pen Draig? Do you know the wizard's role?" She vanishes the chess piece and murmurs, "Bartimaeus is powerful. There are few humans that my master was wary of, but Bartimaeus, she spoke of him always with an edge of caution."

The witch spreads her hands. "Those weren't the questions you asked, but I hope I've done something to answer whatever questions linger unspoken. To answer the spoken half: my task for you is to learn and grow. My enemy has been more careful since the League spoiled New Dawn's party in the Warrens, but I do not believe she has yet heard of your part in all this. Further action must be careful now, lest she be alerted to my suspicions. My divinations revealed to me the locations of the hidden facilities, and the League's interest in those facilities, but the alchemy being brought there was hidden from my magic until you retrieved that briefcase for me. Now, the trail is visible, but it twists and turns throughout the city. I am close to the next piece of the puzzle, but it may still be several days before I have a solid lead."

---

JigaWatt, AKA Lucan

For a moment, as the dread rises, you think you're caught. The creaking of metal, the city sounds, the tapping of a heel, and that awful crawling sensation all build to a point of absolute terror... and then you're free of the warehouse and rising into the night air.

Behind you, patrols are doubled and the quiet warehouse becomes just a bit less quiet, but there are no alarms, no shouts, no guns pointing in your direction and filling the air with bullets. You've escaped the notice of New Dawn, if only barely.

It doesn't take long to put the warehouse entirely beyond you, but the fear doesn't go away. Power may not be crawling over your thoughts, but the memory of that feeling certainly crawls up your neck. You've seen Fox cast spells, you've seen Errant with his knightly aura, and of course you've watched all the more sorcerous supers on the web, but that's all light and sound, not visceral sensation.

When you feel like this, where do you usually go?

---

Liminal, AKA Teagan

The woman crosses her arms and fumes at you before scoffing. "Youth these days, so entitled. Can't even stop to help her betters."

With that, she turns away from you and lets you leave, awaiting the arrival of the police.

You walk home, putting the annoying lady behind you. You did the right thing, and now the exhaustion is hitting you. You practically stumble into your apartment, so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.

For once, Ryan hasn't made much of a mess, apparently being particularly engaged by the TV. That makes cleanup a little easier, but it's still a grueling chore, made worse by the toddler's attention turning from his shows to you the second you enter the room.

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5

If there was one thing Fox believed more than anything after the witch had said her peace it was this. She could absolutely read his mind and that terrified him in ways he could neither articulate in words or thoughts short of incomprehensible screaming. It remained in that interplay between the rational and the paranoid mind that such a reaction wasn't wise and was exactly the reaction she was aiming for, to see distrust and aggression and to give in to those darker emotions. True, she was his enemy, true she was a mountain which needed climbing, to overcome her, but the rest rang hollow. Rage and distrust, the fuzzy claws of paranoia that gripped his heart were powerful but they weren't the only power. Nor were they the most powerful. Perhaps this Lich and her apprentices believed that but Kye had other beliefs and the evidence to make him secure that even if he wasn't right, neither was Corax.

When his family had been murdered he wasn't left alone to nurture his distrust. When he'd begun his march into ostensible herodom it wasn't a lonely road he tread. The Sons and Daughters of Albion did not disband simply because their numbers were culled. Heroes across the city worked in tandem with others even when they had every right to be a bastion alone, they held their hands out when they could not complete a task and worked as hard as one could to do what they could. A Fox was wary but not hostile to all outsiders. A Fox who would bite its mate would die and so too would all other fox. There was a time, a place, a use for others. If it was true that Corax felt otherwise, that she alone was the only one she could trust then that was a weakness to exploit. When you ran out of chess pieces only the King remained. He had no illusions, the team would need to defeat Corax eventually and everything he was doing was further intel on how to accomplish that feat. Corax knew that of course, there was no reason to hide it. They were enemies, they knew they were enemies but there was something larger than themselves. Was it not said that the Fox and the Wolf fought the Dragon before falling upon one another? It was so, the enemy of an enemy was not your friend but they were useful all the same. She was wrong. In this game there were enemies but there was succor too.

"I asked no questions save one." He finally spoke. "Do you expect answers from me then? I care not what the Wizard's role is, only his end by my hand. This is known and in that knowing I know myself. My people will never rest until the wrong has been corrected. The Gods frown upon fratricide and a debt is owed. If there are to be sacrifices along that way, blood pays for blood and I have no aversion in bleeding. I consign my role to the Dark, so that others might one day feel the sun upon them. You know of my blood, do you know our stories? Do you know how the story of the Fox and the Crow ends?"

[Malexia]

Fox, AKA Kye

Corax is once more silent and still as she listens to you speak. When you are done, she weighs your words for a moment before shaking her head. "I do not. My teacher would have; she loved collecting stories, especially from cultures that practiced magic. But I lack her breadth of experience, and though I know a bit of history on Albion, I know almost nothing of their folklore. Please, tell me of the Fox and the Crow."

There is no affront in her words, but neither can apology be found. Her tone is calm, practiced. She's still just playing a part, hiding her true intentions. Even her admittance of ignorance could be a lie, a tactic to draw out more from her quiet student - rather, her cautious enemy.

[Razade]

Fox
Conditions:
Potential: 3/5

"Fox tricks Crow, building useless wings so that Crow will feel proud. Fox knows Crow is vain, that Crow sees the world from on high and thinks itself so much better than the rest. That it would show Fox how wonderful she is, so she steals the Sun to melt the snow. This doesn't just expose what the Fox is hunting, it melts away the vanity of Crow. Crow becomes the meal, she thought she understood the world from where she soared but distance makes things harder to see. Fox knows what he doesn't know, uses what he does to bring the lofty down." Fox starts, each word measured, aiming at Corax. "But there's another story there. Why was Fox hunting? To feed his children and mate. Fox takes Crow to his den and lets his family eat and leaves the Sun in his den so they're warm. When they've eaten and fallen asleep warm and content, Fox goes out once more to hunt where the fresh snow and the cold of night chills him. Fox is clever and knows that one day he will need someone to hunt for him again, like he did when he was young. Like his father Fox did before him and how his children will do for their children. It is a chain, Corax, that runs in both directions. Forever."

He folds his arms, the story done and too many words for it. "We are enemies, but our bellies are lean. Wouldn't it be more worthwhile for our hunt to be at our peak? No one tells stories of two starving beasts, lunging at one another. In our winter of distrust, morsels of truth will prepare us for our Spring. Why me, then? You know of my blood, it is important yes? I have shared, now you, Crow. I'll have my sun yet from you."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

So, going to ask because I got a 12.

- How can I get Influence over you.
- How could I get you to trust me
- What do you want me to do?

[DreadPirateH]

Aiden
Conditions:
Potential: 1/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +0
• Danger: +0
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +1
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• [X] Fight the good fight: When you pull your punches while directly engaging a threat, you can roll + Savior instead of + Danger. If you do, you cannot choose to impress, surprise, or frighten your foe.
• [X]The legacy matters: When you take Influence over someone from your legacy (or give them Influence over you), mark potential and take +1 forward. When someone from your legacy causes your Labels to shift, mark potential and take +1 forward.

Aiden isn't sure how he expected this to go, but the conversation is clearly devolving. If his exploits weren't even impressive to his friends, how would he ever convince the other Knights of his worthiness?

Errant Red had given him an opportunity, and he'd put it off until tomorrow like some idiot. As if this jousting match were more important?

Pulling out his phone, he sends a follow-up message.

Actually, I'm free now. On my way.

"Hey, something came up, I've got to go. See you guys at school."

[Captain Jak]

JigaWatt
Conditions: Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +3
• Danger: -2
• Savior: +2
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -2

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• Stage-fighting: When you directly engage a threat with an audience watching, mark a condition to roll + Superior instead of Danger.
  
  
• Time for the show: When you put on a flamboyant display of your powers, roll + Superior.
  On a 7-9, name one NPC present.
  On a 10+, name two NPCs present.
  The named NPCs must either volunteer help or information, express admiration, or ask for your help, GM’s choice.
  On a miss, your display catches someone watching in the wrong way.
  
  
• The gossip mags: When you tap into the gossip and rumor of the celebrity industry for information on an important city figure, roll + Superior. On a hit, you can ask the GM questions. On a 10+, ask three. On a 7-9, ask one:
  - What are they up to?
  - What or who do they most care about?
  - What allies do they have? Enemies?
  - Where and when can I find them?
  - How could I make them vulnerable to me?
  On a miss, ask one anyway, but they hear about your interest in them.
  
• Suck it, Domitian: When you stand strong while dramatically under fire, roll + Savior instead of + Danger to directly engage a threat.

Having won clear and apparently without being detected, JigaWatt slowed his panicked flight to something that would be less likely to get him hurt in a moment of inattention.

Privately, he is more than willing to admit he’s scared spitless. Sure, getting out and pitting his capabilities against others in the defense of those who can’t defend themselves, it’s nervous work and a rush all at the same time.

Being alone, behind enemy lines, and in danger of being sniffed out by someone who can mess around in your head? That’s a whole lot of something else, and he wonders for a moment how the others have the courage to wander around on their own doing these things. The price of failure....

Well, that just goes to show that the others are probably right when it comes to him and the heroing business. Some people are heroes who stand larger than life and do the right thing; some are just good at drawing attention, whether it’s a good idea or not.

He’s continued to fly as his thoughts run around in circles, and he realizes that he’s subconsciously heading somewhere in particular as he recognizes landmarks below. Dropping into a banking turn, he descends into the midst of the massive sprawling acres of Ralph’s Wreckers.

Taking up an entire block in the industrial quarter, Ralph’s has been a mainstay of the city for decades now, and the strata of junked cars that are crushed and stacked give mute testimony to the changes in automotive design over the years. You could likely murder someone in the depths of the lot and nobody would hear a thing.

This is where Lucan had first come to experiment with his powers when they had been bestowed upon him; relative privacy, tons of stuff to practice on and very little that wasn't wrecked already that he didn't have to worry about wrecking a bit more. It isn't a safe space, per se, but it's a familiar one and one in which he'd gotten a handle on some freak-outish moments while figuring out just what the heck had happened to him.

Apparently his subconscious decided this was a good place and time for another such.

Landing more abruptly than usual, he stumbles his dismount and catches himself on the side of an old early '80s Crown Victoria that is half lost to rust by this point. He takes a moment to check if his camera is off – it is, he must have done that at some point during his flight, although he doesn't recall actually doing so – and pulls it from his head entirely. For just a moment here, he needs to be Lucan, not megastar JigaWatt. JigaWatt takes chances that puts him in danger of getting caught, hurt, killed, or potentially worse.

Lucan just has to worry about remembering his chores before facing maternal displeasure.

[Kirjath]

Liminal
Conditions: Angry, Afraid
Potential: 0/5

Spoiler: Labels

Show

• Freak: +2
• Danger: -1
• Savior: +1
• Superior: +2
• Mundane: -1

Spoiler: Moves

Show

• The Mask: You wear a mask and hide your real identity. You embody Freak while wearing your mask.
  Once per session, you can affirm either your heroic or secret identity to switch your Mundane with your mask’s Label. When you reveal your secret identity to someone who didn’t know it already, mark potential.
  
  
• Mild-mannered: When you try to use your civilian identity to deceive, trick, or slip past someone, roll + Mundane. On a hit they buy your facade. On a 7-9, choose one:
  - you’re still under observation
  - you leave something incriminating behind
  - you’re forced to make a fool of yourself to sell it
  On a miss, one of your civilian obligations rears its ugly head.
  
  
• Game face: When you commit yourself to save someone or defeat a terrible enemy, mark a condition and take +1 ongoing to all rolls in direct pursuit of that goal. At the end of any scene in which you don’t make progress towards that goal, mark a condition. When you fulfill your goal, mark potential.
  
  
• Thick and thin skinned: Whenever you have Angry marked, take +1 ongoing to unleash your powers.

Teagan sighed as the door to her apartment closed behind her. The small couch next to the TV called to her, but she saw a number of things that needed immediate correction. As she turned the TV off and picked up yet another of her baby brother's diapers from the kitchen floor, she wondered. Would the work ever really end? Did her other teammates have these problems? How did Ryan even get out of his crib and into the kitchen, was he flinging these things?

She did most of the chores in a haze. Dinner wasn't anything special, with Teagan making herself a plate of nachos and trying to get Ryan to eat something a little more healthy. Cleaning up afterwards was tough, as her brother's hands were always sticky for some reason. She couldn't get the spoon out of his hand, so he ended up taking a bath with it. The highlight of the evening was when he sprayed water in her eyes and she turned it into a small water fight. Ryan let out that high pitched giggle that always made her laugh, and it was enough to forget about the additional mess they were making. Mopping up the bathroom floor could wait until at least the morning anyways.

The evening came to a close when Teagan settled Ryan down on the couch to read him a bedtime story, but she didn't make it more than a couple pages before passing out. Ryan, more than accustomed to this, waited a couple minutes as he tried to turn the page, only for it to stick to his hand and tear. He squirmed until he was out of Teagan's grip, climbed down from the couch, and crawled over to the TV remote to turn it back on. His face lit up as a late night rerun of Halcyon Cops played, and he sat enraptured by it.

[Malexia]

((Port from Discord, Part 1)

Fox, AKA Kye

With each word of your story, you can feel the tension in Corax rising. It's subtle at first: a change in the air, a barely-visible finger twitch, the noise of shifting feathers. But as the second half of your story plays out, that tension becomes palpable. A fist clenches, unclenches, clenches. She looks down, then away from you, then staring straight at you from that dark mask.

A little spark of magic dances across her fingertips. Corax looks away from you again, down to her hand, and when she sees the spark it flickers out and all the energy seems to drain from her. Her posture slips from too-stiff to nearly slumped and she lets out an exhausted sigh.

"I... I have so very little to give."

At the edge of the circle, a stick of incense starts to fizzle out, flame spent. The crow witch waves a hand and the incense reignites with a violet flash. She tilts her mask in its direction, watching silently, before giving you her full attention once more and straightening her posture.

"Once, before all of this, I had something warm and beautiful. Not blood-family; they left me before I was full-grown. But there was..." the witch's breath catches, and her words come out strained, "...there was a girl. I loved her, or I thought I did. She was found-family, chosen-kin. I wanted to spend my life with her."

Her fists are clenched, her head low, but this time the tension isn't pointed at you. "Her name was Evelyn, and she was... sick, in a manner of speaking. I had always been drawn to witchcraft, to little spells here and there, but her sickness drove me to greater acts of magic. I wanted to cure her. I wanted my Evelyn back. Instead, my spell made everything worse. It nearly killed her."

"As I cried over her, pouring magic into her, begging her to wake up, a grim specter found me. A skeleton cloaked in black; surely, I thought, this must be the reaper come to claim my Evelyn. But the reaper spoke with a woman's voice, and she introduced herself not as Death but as Abigail Rowan. You would know her as Lich Girl."

As her story continues, Corax's voice loses its emotion. "Rowan made me a deal: my life in exchange for Evelyn's. I became her apprentice, and she healed Evelyn. That was the last I saw of the girl I loved, and she probably hates me for what I did. All I have left is the magic that wasn't enough to save Evelyn and the remaining strings of my bargain with Rowan."

Corax sighs again. "Rowan would chide me for letting your story get to me. Rowan would be furious with me for revealing secrets like these." Her fists tighten, and then release. "But Rowan is gone, and I am left to pick up her pieces."

Spoiler: Pierce the Mask

Show

1. To get Influence over Corax, demonstrate that one of Rowan's lessons is untrue. Corax has built her whole life around Rowan's teachings, but now Rowan is gone and there's a hole where she used to be. Erode Corax's faith in Rowan's teachings and show her that not everyone has to be an enemy or a pawn.

2. To get Corax to trust you, demonstrate that you choose her over the League. Defend her secret if the League is ever close to discovering her part in the New Dawn conflict, and go to her with intel on New Dawn before going to the League with it. Delphi is part of the League.

3. Corax wants you to become her apprentice, just as she became apprentice to Rowan. But right now, she mostly just wants to be sure that you'll keep the Team from ratting her out to the League or any other source that could leak her involvement to New Dawn.

Errant White, AKA Aiden

Just as before, Errant Red sends no reply. It unsettles you a little, but there's no going back now; you take off for Castle Grail.

Your path leads you into one of the city's most beautiful parks, Leaminglam Gardens. The park is a wonderful place to just wander through on a sunny Halcyon day, but now it is cast in shadow and looms with promise.

You pass through the park and find the secret entrance that Durendal guided you to all those months ago. An unassuming statue glows with Albion magic as you approach, and you incant just the right words to be let through without having your face burned off.

Beyond the statue, a doorway of light ripples into existence. Beyond that, false fields of grain and the towering edifice of Castle Grail. With one last look at the night-clad city, you step through the doorway and emerge into gentle sunlight.

A stone leviathan greets you on the other side of the portal. Constructed by the Wizard himself, raised from the earth and hidden away inside a pocket dimension that itself was forged to resemble Albion of old, if only a pale imitation. The castle is the perfect picture of an ancient fortress, complete with the banners of the Knights and a sky-piercing tower that you know to house Bartimaeus.

There are few residents of Castle Grail, as it is mostly used as a headquarters for the Knights and they usually have business elsewhere. As you pass inside and stroll down faux-ancient halls you see few others, only a few caretakers tasked with keeping the castle presentable. Like most modern castles, the interior has been constructed to resemble old architecture but keep the convenience of modern living.

The grand hall of Castle Grail is adorned with trophies of the Knights. Mementos of past victories, reminders of suffering and defeat, and reclaimed items of Albion old. At the end of the hall Cailís na Ríthe atop an enchanted pedestal. The Chalice of Kings. It gleams with supernatural beauty, the power in that cup practically singing to you, and to your blade. Durendal feels lighter in the presence of the Chalice.

Errant Red stands beside the Chalice. Claiomh Solais rests at belt, and he wears a mix of modern tactical body armor and the plate-mail of historic knights. A crimson cloak billows from his shoulders and collects around his feet. You've read that his armor and cloak are each enchanted with over a dozen protective spells, and that Claiomh Solais, the Sword of Light, is strong enough to carve through titanium... or dragon scales.

Sir Maelan's expression is unreadable... but it doesn't seem positive. "Son of Albion, you have arrived. It is so good that you are free now. Pray tell, what miracle enabled you to answer my summons after first deciding this could wait?"

His voice is gruff, stern, and tinged with anger. "The other Knights are just waiting for you to slip up, Errant White. They look for any excuse to discredit you in the eyes of the Wizard. Green would have us search for a way to break your bond with the sword, while Grey has advocated simply taking Durendal and locking it away until you have trained to his satisfaction. You cannot let anything distract you from your role. Not while the eyes of all Albion are upon you."

JigaWatt, AKA Lucan

The night air is... well, not silent, but quiet by Halcyon standards. Here in the recess of the scrapyard, no one can find you. The world outside fades away, and you are left alone with your thoughts.

The crawling sensation has passed; whatever that woman did, it didn't work on you. You're safe, for now. But if she's a part of New Dawn, odds are you'll have to face her again. Her, the mercenaries, other supervillains, and eventually... whoever they all answer to.

But that's a JigaWatt problem. Lucan's problems are much smaller by comparison: homework, chores, making people happy. Compared to fighting monsters and resisting mind mages, none of that really seems like much.

The familiar space helps you put the encounter behind you, and soon enough it's time to head home. Your mothers scold you for running off so abruptly, but you're an expert at dissuading their concerns. Back in your room, a quick check at metrics shows that your latest video is still buzzing with activity, but it's not exploding like it was earlier. Your efforts have, for now, kept the situation from escalating too quickly.

Sleep takes you, and then... the bright rays of morning, consuming the night like it never was.

And in the light of morning, a notification on your phone: a message from the Halcyon League's PR team. They've invited you to the Hall of Heroes, the official headquarters of the League. They want to talk.

Liminal, AKA Teagan

Not even superheroes are immune to fatigue, and when sleep comes, it is blissful...

...And broken all too soon by sound and light.

The morning hits you like a sledgehammer, all your aches and pains magnified. It's going to be another brutal, boring, unrelenting day.

What's a typical Friday look like for the overworked hero?

[Malexia]

((Port from Discord, Part 2))

The sight of Old Albion never fails to take Aiden's breath away, even if it's merely an illusion. The air around Castle Grail is always filled with an energy that resonates in him, calling out to him. A homeland he had neven known. But, with luck, maybe one day he would. With Cailís na Ríthe in its rightful place, anything was possible. Defeating the dragon. Reclaiming Albion. Maybe even earning the Knights' respect.

And then Errant Red opens his mouth to berate him. So nice to have him back from Egypt.

The muscles in Aiden's neck flex as he clenches his jaw, his nose and temper flaring. Of course trying to put off the summons had been a mistake. Still, he had hoped that for once he wouldn't be rebuked for his slightest misstep. He stands up straighter, and his hand moves to Durendal's hilt as Errant Red describes the myriad ways the other Knights were conspiring to take it from him, squeezing it. He responds like a soldier reprimanded by his drill sergeant. "Sir. I have a test in school tomorrow. I thought I should focus on my studies, but I realized my mistake. Being a Knight is more important than algebra." Inwardly, Aiden winces at himself. Hearing it come out of his own mouth, even he can't tell if he was being sarcastic. Why do I always choose the worst times to be a smartass?

Fox was prepared for a great deal worse than what he got. Lipping off to one of, if not the, most powerful mage in the city outside of Albion wasn’t wise but he had little to lose. Little to truly care for if she left him a smoking crater.

“I ask for little for we have lost much.”

It was true. A small bit of knowledge and keeping out of his way were the only things he’d asked. In return she’d asked a great deal and asked for more still. Crows were often greedy. It was true too they’d both lost a great deal. Her, apparently, a lover and her hope. Him...a family. A people. A future even if Kye himself wouldn’t see that. He was a proud Son of Albion.

“You do not pick the pieces up alone.” She’s lying, playing for sympathy. There was no girl, no illness, a trap from start to end the pernicious voice screamed. “It will take trust, this is true. Time, as well. A thing we have so little of. I will not lie to my team.” More truth though the team would suspect otherwise he feared. Silence might be taken as a lie or worse, complicity. But even if this was some game, some play, he’d rather look like a fool and be prepared than to shun a chance to get close and strike. A cold maneuver but if it were a trap...prudent.

“Tell your next task and it will be done. I will not disappoint.”

Lucan reads over the message on his phone again. Finally! The previous day's entreat for information, the storm of activity that followed, the investigation and the panicked flight that followed, the emotional crash and unsettled sleep that followed it – all fades away in the face of finally getting the big push out there, the content that his followers crave.

The question is, if it really all fades away, why is there still an undercurrent of unease winding its way through his guts?

Calling up his contacts, his thumb hesitates over the options – can you just imagine bringing Fox along to a meeting like this? – before coming down on Liminal.

Hey, L. The League's PR people looking to chat at the Hall today. Wanna come with?

He...would feel better with some backup, he's sure. And he knows she's got a thing for the League, maybe this can be kind of an olive branch?

A buzz from her phone finally shook Teagan out of the deep slumber she was in. She sat up blearily, her mind slowly piecing together the dream she'd just been woken from. Sentinel chasing down criminals, yelling with her voice. Meanwhile, she was busy busing tables with a deep, manly voice that made her boss laugh.

It was a weird one for sure. Teagan shook her head as the memory of the dream faded, her ears finally picked up the sound of the tv, and she sat for a minute longer processing that detail. The tv definitely shouldn't be on, that wasted electricity. Had she forgotten to turn it off? No, she couldn't have, there was a book still lying on the couch, so Teagan knew she'd at least read something to Ryan before she fell asleep.

Ryan! Teagan bolted from the couch as she looked around the room for her little brother. He wasn't much older than a year old, he definitely shouldn't have been left out of his crib for the whole evening. A whole host of terrible thoughts ran through her head for the split second it took to find her brother in the kitchen, banging his toys together. He spared a brief moment to glance up at his older sister and utter something unintelligible before he went right back to whatever mad science he was trying to accomplish.

Teagan breathed a sigh of relief. She spent the rest of the morning chastising herself for making such a lapse in care while she fed Ryan and cleaned up his toys. The bar wouldn't open until the afternoon, so she didn't have any work to attend to besides some household chores, though she grumbled through the whole process. When she finally got back to check her phone, a solid hour had passed.

Her eyes lit up at the message from JIgaWatt. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad weekend after all. She quickly texted a response back to him.

ofc!! were/when we meeting?

Teagan bolted into her bedroom and started putting on her costume. It took a little bit of time to finish the transformation into Liminal, but she was... practiced at it by now. When she finally popped out of the room, Ryan looked up at his sister and made a giggle. He promptly plopped down in front of the TV expectantly. Liminal felt a slight pang of guilt as she flipped the channel to the public broadcast. Hopefully the little tyke would get at least something educational out of the day.

"Be back soon, Ry. Don't...move, ok!? I'll be back soon."

It was more a promise to herself than anything else. As she locked the apartment behind her, thoughts of her brother quickly faded as she wondered what the upcoming meeting would be about.

[Malexia]

((Port from Discord, Part 3))

Aiden, AKA Errant White

Sir Maelan lets you stew in your error for a moment before brushing past it. "I will not be here long, for the business that began in Egypt has not yet run its full course. A member of that sinister cabal still lurks, and I shall hunt her down. Sunday morning I meet with the Watchtower to discuss all that transpired."

"Until then, I intend to correct the error of my peers." Maelan draws Claiomh Solais and taps it against the floor, then nods at your own blade. "Durendal chose you, Aiden, and I have never known that sword to be wrong. The other Knights may prattle all they like about you being inexperienced and untrained, but there is only one remedy to such ills: practice. In denying you the rigors of a Knight's trials, they only hinder the organization as a whole."

"Draw your blade, Knight, and let us cross swords. Hold nothing back, and trust that the righteous steel of our weapons will abstain from the blood of the pure-hearted." Maelan raises Claiomh Solais in a ceremonial pose, but you can tell there is the weight of years behind even such a simple movement. He has every confidence in his words, and in his ability as a swordsman.

Forget algebra, this is about to become the most intense quiz of your life.

Kye, AKA Fox

Like the flick of a switch, the cold shroud of control returns. "Of course. You are the most promising mage that Albion has produced in a century, after all. I always expect the best."

"New Dawn will strike Saturday at three locations. Their action-patterns have shifted since the League's interference, and I cannot yet pinpoint their targets, nor which is most crucial. I advise caution, and preparation. The alchemist has developed something new for this next round of strikes, and I wish to gather magical data first-hand... in a manner of speaking."

The crow witch produces a small stone covered in runes. Some of the runes are familiar from your studies, but a few defy your understanding of the runic languages, and when she tilts the stone you can see runes hidden within runes, a complex lattice of magical writing. "When you find New Dawn, bring this to the battle and speak the command word ansuz. It will allow me to observe the battle as if I were there."

Corax holds out the stone and drops it, letting it fall through the air, but before it can hit the ground it flickers and disappears. You feel a heaviness in your hand, and there the runestone rests. She muttered no incantation and constructed no circle, yet the stone's presence is indisputable. You feel a palpable sense of hunger and curiosity; whatever is in the books that Corax sent you, it isn't enough. It may have been little more than a parlor trick compared to the great spells of archmages, but it is still true magic, not the cantrips and idle sorceries of your current training.

"I have every confidence in your team's success this time... which means I have prepared no safety net. There will be no League waiting in the wings."

With that, all the candles in both rooms go out, and then the image of Corax vanishes and your own reflection stares back at you.

JigaWatt and Liminal

You meet up in the big open park area just outside Halcyon City's most famous landmark: the Hall of Heroes. It's got that adorably cheesy Gold Generation style, looking straight out of an old-school comic book and completely out of place surrounded by ultra-modern buildings. It's the shortest building on the block by a huge margin, but it still dominates the eye through sheer cultural impact.

The front of the building is all glass, perfect to show off the trophies inside. The Hall of Heroes is open to visitors 24/7, maintained by a cadre of robotic tour guides. The real Hall, the part where the heroes meet, is... well, there's a few theories. The easy answer is that it's underneath, or that it's one of the unassuming buildings nearby, or that it's a space station orbiting Earth accessible by teleporter.

But for those pay attention to how Halcyon City operates, there's another answer: it's there, just sideways. An alternate dimension overlaying and folded into the backrooms of the Halcyon Hall of Heroes. It's the same principle as Lich Girl's Ossuary and Albion's Castle Grail. The League may not have any mages as strong as the Wizard or the Lich, but they do get first pick of the finest in mad scientist inventions.

Inside, the Hall is full of tourists admiring the statues, holograms, and trophies from various mega-villains past. A pair of costumed teens are geeking out over a replica of Loki's Scepter, while a gaggle of parents have brought their kids to see a shard of the dragon Verazillix. The place is full of those guide-bots helpfully expositing information that most visitors are completely ignoring.

Towards the back, you notice one actual human that looks like he works here, given the pseudo-secretary get-up. When you're close enough to catch his eye, he gives you a quick once-over before fishing through his pockets for an index card and giving it a the same treatment.

"JigaWatt? And... guest?"

[Malexia]

((Port from Discord, Part 4))

It’s hard not to look like just another of the yokels rather than one of the stars as he and Liminal make their way through the trophies displayed in the hall. Sure, Lucan has been here before on the tour, but that’s still Dr. Oblivion’s world-threatening Negamognafier – whatever that’s supposed to mean – over there, and the preserved remains of one of the massive stone elementals of the Unseelie Incursion of ’06 casts a metaphysical shadow even larger than its physical one.

“You ever been in here before?” he asks his teammate, his eyes focused on...oh, wow. The infamous Three of Spades from the Deckmaster’s play deck. Sure, it looks like a simple playing card. But in the wrong hands....

Spotting the most likely point of contact, he leads the way over to the man amongst all the machines.

“Colleague,” he corrects the man’s misassumption. “Liminal is part of The Team.” She’s a quarter of their resources; she has just as much right to be here as he does.

That doesn’t, of course, quiet the little flutter of unease that whispers to him that maybe he overstepped by inviting along company....

He simply stands, stone in hand, when the mirror returns to its former reflective surface. This meeting had been more fruitful and he felt he knew where he stood a little better than before. Exactly where he suspected he stood. It was good to have confirmation. It left him much to consider however. He couldn’t trust the Witch, not truly. He could act it, he could feel the space out now that some seemed made, get close and strike when he needed. She would strike for certain. If not at him, at the team. Part of him believed she was looking to pass her knowledge on but no part of him felt that that meant his team wouldn’t be the first to go if the Witch felt they were in the way. Much of this was for their sake, there would be no sense in throwing them away for more power when they were a primary motivating factor in looking for it in the first place.

They wouldn’t believe it. They’d probably be smart to distrust. The Wizard was the central reason, they were byproducts, further means to what he hoped would be a glorious end. He killed everyone, his order doomed his people and left them stranded. The Wizard had done the unspeakable, the unthinkable, in slaying kin. The Gods did not look kindly on kinslayers and he was the very instrument of their displeasure. It was a Fate of another kind that spoke to their end, Fox undoubtedly burned alive by one of the Wizards spells but not before he’d choked the life out of the hateful geezer.

That was why he walked this road, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t do for the Witch to betray him, to be a roadblock to that Fate. The Fate that rendered all others impotent. It was why he walked the Dark, for no reasonable person spoke their truths in the Light. He could play his part, all of this was an act at any rate. The Kye who wasn’t a proud Son of Albion in the light of day. The Kye whose thirst for vengeance didn’t consume his heart. Surely if that Kye dwelt beneath the same sun, his true self could only languish in the Dark. He cleaned up the small changing room and found his way back to the streets.

Liminal stretched her neck ever so slightly as she and JigaWatt walked into the Hall of Heroes. It was ironic for someone with her powers, but a night spent sleeping on the couch still made her muscles ache. Thankfully the sights and sounds of the Hall of Heroes was more than enough to distract her.

There stood War Weary’s Demotivator cannon. He’d used that one on her neighborhood once, trying to prove how lazy the people at the bottom of the ladder were. The joke was on him, since Mr. Kelly had given her the week off with pay after that attack. Not that she would’ve been able to come in to work anyways, everyone sat around watching tv and eating chips for hours. Some still hadn’t worked off the excess weight gain. Even Ryan didn’t cry for almost three days; it had been the best week of her life.

Liminal recognized a few other items, like the ignominious Defenestrator, the Masks of Fate, and the Blue Harpoon, the latter of which had featured prominently on the last Shark Week. Not all of the Hall’s trophies were as glamorous as the others, but there wasn’t anything world ending in here. That was a relief. Liminal hated to think that the heroes would display some truly horrible artifacts for public viewing if they weren’t absolutely sure they could keep the place secure.

She gave a start as JigaWatt asked a question. “Yeah, on a field trip once.”

It was true, though Teagan didn’t attend school anymore. The less they knew about her personal life, the better. She turned to ask him a question, only to see JigaWatt’s eyes bulge as he laid eyes on a playing card. At least he was enjoying himself, all Teagan felt was a rising nervousness at officially introducing herself to the League.
What if they didn’t accept her?

The question was answered soon enough, as a JigaWatt walks over to probably the only living employee in the place and introduces them. She smiled despite herself, as hearing that sort of correction from JigaWatt improved her opinion of him immeasurably.

“Nice to meet you.” Liminal responded cordially. “Don’t mind me, I won’t be in the way.”

She briefly considered a small demonstration of her powers to see what response she’d get, but quickly decided against it. JigaWatt was the reason she was even here today, so JigaWatt was the one she was going to mirror as closely as possible.

"Abstain from the blood..." Aiden looks down at Durendal in bewilderment. "Wait, you just do that on your own?" At that moment, Aiden gets the very strange feeling that his sword just rolled his eyes at him. "Hey -" he says, before cutting himself off. Dude, you are not going to get into an argument with your sword in front of Sir Maelan!

Speaking of Sir Maelan, Aiden's heart skips a few beats as the other Knight raises his sword. His adrenaline spikes, and he gulps. Hard. He hopes his hand is steadier than it feels as he draws Durendal from its scabbard. For its part, Durendal practically sings, eagerly anticipating the fight.

The rest of the Knights hadn't so much as lifted a finger to teach Aiden how to fight properly. Not that Bartimaeus would have given them any time with all the reading he expected Aiden to do. So far he'd been getting by with some YouTube videos from a LARP group, and it suddenly seemed like it wasn't nearly enough. But with Durendal resting firm in his hands, Aiden sets his jaw in determination. Gripping it with both hands, he holds Durendal high and charges to attack!

[Malexia]

((Port from Discord, Part 5))

JigaWatt and Liminal

The man dips his head apologetically. "Ah, of course. You and your colleague have been granted a meeting with the League to discuss some sensitive information. Follow me right this way and I will show you to the meeting room."

You follow him into a side room and down a long hallway until you reach a simple wooden door. Your guide opens the door, gestures you through, and closes it behind you.

Inside is a meeting room straight out of a high-rise corporate office, with long table and swivel chairs. Except, corporate offices usually don't have holographic skyboxes and distinctly magical potted plants that bloom in rainbow colors.

Seated around the meeting table are two figures, one familiar and the other new to you. The first is Weaver, a member of the League's core six, who is both the League's resident archmage and their best strategist. Next to her is a man in his late 20s wearing an unremarkable suit.

The man in the suit rises to his feet and extends a hand to greet both of the teen heroes. "It's good to meet you. I'm Tobias Crane, social media coordinator to the League's public relations team. My crew was notified of your messages recently and arranged this meeting so we can discuss those videos of yours. Before we get into details, I'd like to extend a measure of gratitude for your discretion in not releasing the full video so far."

Weaver is next to speak, though she does not rise and makes no attempt to welcome either of you. "And I have been working closely with Crane and associates as part of the League's overall strategem for combating New Dawn on all fronts. I have been most curious of your group since Sunshot informed me of your presence during the Warrens raid. It was... unfortunate that I could not have met you in person that night."

You get the feeling Weaver isn't exactly happy about Sunshot covering the Team's exit.

Weaver gestures at JigaWatt and says, "Now, before we can discuss the video, I'd like some context on the events leading up to it. How did your group end up at the facility? What clues led you to New Dawn? And what did you do once you entered the facility, before Sunshot appeared?"

Kye

Your path takes you home with no interruptions, and when sleep finally takes you it is deep night. Morning follows, and your hunt for the rare texts is all set to continue... until you find a message from Sara Hastings waiting.

Thank you for talking to Penny, Kye. If you want to keep up the momentum of that healthy act (and I'm telling you as your case manager that you do want that), there's an after-school club that I think you'd like: Chess Club at Crystal Oak High School. It's pretty light on supers for a Halcyon school, so you shouldn't run into anyone you know from Camp Joy. If you're interested, it's in Room C13 at 3:30. And I told them you're coming, so don't worry about seeming out of place. :)

Well that's a bit... new. Hastings has been trying to get you more social for a while, but this is the first time she's sent you to an after-school club. You don't go to that school, after all, and chess? Why chess?

You could probably find a way to get out of it. Say you were busy doing hero stuff, or lie about bakery obligations. But you know she'd see through that and be disappointed in you.

Aiden

You charge forward, putting all your might and determination behind the blow. Maelan steps forward with Claiomh Solais and meets your strike, then a second, each time manipulating his blade with perfection precision. He keeps up his perfect defense for just two more strikes before lunging forward and in a maneuver faster than your eyes can follow-

Durendal clatters to the floor.

Maelan has resumed his passive stance. "Hmm. Passion behind your strikes, but marred by uncertainty, inexperience, and your impaired bond with Durendal. You swing him around like a baseball bat or any old hunk of metal. That might suffice against ordinary criminals, but it will cost you dearly if you face a true supervillain. You must understand your blade as well as the techniques of sword-fighting. Only when a Knight and his sword fight as one are they complete."

He switches to defensive stance and says, "Now, again!"