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Michale CS

Ignorance of grammar is not an excuse.
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  1. Multiple posts per day
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  1. Intermediate
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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Urban Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Modern, Horror, Magical... pretty flexible.
OOC/Signup Thread is here.

Interest Check is here

Several short scenarios and a general 'sandbox' to interact IC will be run on this thread, as we tread water at the time of this writing waiting for the updated Groups system.

After that point, other than the casual threads, all IC scenarios/missions will be invite only - invite contingent on being part of the group.


 
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Alright lad, call me and I'll meet you on mister toad's wild train.

I get up to leave, walking with my shillelagh like a cane, nothing more than a bad habit, my body long since healed. I walk out of the bar, another mask watching me leave. I could swear the weird pattern on his mask moved. I don't know that I will ever get used to this.

The blonde with the neon drink is gone now. Probably just as well, another rule I try to live by. No crazy women, especially good looking crazy women.

I make my way back to Big Patrick's. At least I could say there was some hope now

Two hours later, I managed to withdraw from my adapted father's house, he had been at the sauce but was better when I left. He was going to try and get some sleep.

I asked him to make an appointment for me to see Thorne in a few days. Now, to my own sleep. I activated every security system I had.

@Michale CS @ ringmaster
 
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Leslie was there. The feud with the Bat taken care of - well at least to the point where he didn't consider her a murderer now that Stephanie Brown was alive and well, though he wasn't a fan of being deceived, especially by one who was practically his godmother.

At the moment, she was poring over a computer, working on some kind of blood analysis from the looks of it. She also looked entirely oblivious that she had company, as her gaze kept going from the computer to a microscope nearby.

No one really should have been at the clinic during these hours, as the clinic stopped being a trauma center since before Leslie had left for Africa all those years ago. Instead, the clinic did immunizations, blood tests, and DNA testing, with a dabble of research into blood borne diseases.
@Ringmaster
The first thing that struck me was how different it all looked. All the fancy looking equipment and the like, turning it from one thing to another. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised- Times change, I wasn't the college boy anymore who volunteered his time. But it'd be a cold day in Hell before the Dr. Leslie I knew ever turned away a person in need. Not every hero wore a mask and cape in this city. Sometimes, they acted when no one else would. Helped those the heroes would not or overlooked.

I kept my hat tilted low to avoid the cameras, walking by memory to the office she was in. Passwords were the same to access the back. That much was nice. Knocking on the side of her door, I cleared my throat and spoke carefully, being sure to keep the accent to help prevent identification.

"Dr. Leslie Thompkins? I'm here about an old patient you may have treated before. I was hoping you could help me with my inquiries."

Please don't ask about the mask.

@Michale CS
 
I asked him to make an appointment for me to see Thorne in a few days. Now, to my own sleep. I activated every security system I had.
Since the request came from the inside as it were, and since he'd been suitably vague in his request, it had piqued Rupert Thorne's interest...

Alfred-Molina.jpg
Elsewhere in Gotham...

"It seems that this guy is Family, or close to it. How's he still know my daughter after whatever hocus pocus went on to make people forget her once she went missing is what I want to know." Rupert Thorne shook his head and wondered to himself. If this guy was like me, who remembers the days before, then I could use him. Knowledge like that was useful. Knowing what is now versus what once was, well, there had to be a way to capitalize on that.

After he was left alone in his office, he slid open a desk drawer. A strange looking crystal, hovering inside a small silver cage lay there. As it spun, reflections came up in the facets. Reflections of all of the 'new' things everyone remembered as if they'd always been there. Rupert didn't have access to the techies he needed to figure that thing out. Not yet anyway. He slid the drawer closed and it locked on its own, triggered by his fingerprints.

"You might be a lot more useful than you know, boyo." Thorne mused. "And not just to get my niece back..."
The night went uneventfully for Grady, with the exception of a strange dream, barely remembered, that left him only with a strange sense of foreboding and little else. He had a full day to go about his business before he was to meet up with the Question the following day. A day to prepare, and search for local clues if he had any ideas of his own before then...

@Gands

Dateline: Thursday September 1st, 2014 - Friday September 2nd
 
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"Dr. Leslie Thompkins? I'm here about an old patient you may have treated before. I was hoping you could help me with my inquiries."

Please don't ask about the mask.
"That accent is horrible. Why don't we cut the cloak and dagger and call you my patient, so we can cover this whole visit under doctor-patient confidentiality, hm? Otherwise I might lose a little of my pleasant bedside manner. I'll answer what I can - if you're here you know my feeling on what it is people like you do. Necessary, while putting a lot of innocent people at risk at the same time." She swiveled her chair around and pointed to another nearby rolling stool.

"Sit down, because I'm not standing and I'm not about to strain my neck to look up. Who's the patient?"

@Ringmaster
 
"That accent is horrible. Why don't we cut the cloak and dagger and call you my patient, so we can cover this whole visit under doctor-patient confidentiality, hm? Otherwise I might lose a little of my pleasant bedside manner. I'll answer what I can - if you're here you know my feeling on what it is people like you do. Necessary, while putting a lot of innocent people at risk at the same time." She swiveled her chair around and pointed to another nearby rolling stool.

"Sit down, because I'm not standing and I'm not about to strain my neck to look up. Who's the patient?"

@Ringmaster
I could have said a lot of things. A frustrated reply at my situation. My hatred of the mask, though it kept away most. My annoyance at the accent- I thought it was pretty good for a Gothamite, enough to let me blend in South America.

Instead, old memories asserted themselves as I sat down politely and took out the picture of the girl.

"She's missing. Among others, but she was the only homeless figure from before. No one would have missed her...Which is why I'm looking for. I need to know her old habits, haunts...Anywhere she might have gone that she felt safe as well as names she might have trusted." The red eyeholes of the mask flickered in the light as I said gruffly.

"I thought among them, yours might have been one."

@Michale CS
 
"She's missing. Among others, but she was the only homeless figure from before. No one would have missed her...Which is why I'm looking for. I need to know her old habits, haunts...Anywhere she might have gone that she felt safe as well as names she might have trusted." The red eyeholes of the mask flickered in the light as I said gruffly.

"I thought among them, yours might have been one."
Leslie looked at that picture for a long time. Initially, she shook her head and seemed like she was about to say she didn't know her, when that confusion snapped and realization came to her, quickly. Frighteningly quickly, as if released from some outside influence.

"That's Elizabeth Berg. She hasn't been homeless for awhile, but she's still nomadic. She goes from motel to motel, mostly along the docks. Works at a clothing store, from what I hear of her. I haven't seen her here for a week or so. She shows up to volunteer at the boys and girls club on 14th and Main every other Saturday. I know this because I volunteer there too, giving flu shots, handing out samples of cold medicine, doing checkups. Elizabeth goes by Betty Boyg, except when she volunteers there. It's like she's afraid of people knowing that she used to be Betty Boyg when she was on the streets. But, the club doesn't ask much about backgrounds as long as you do good work. Elizabeth, she brings in blankets and clothing on the regular for them. Even takes requests and gets special things sewn for the kids. Pretty popular. Day after tomorrow is the next drive. Maybe you could get some information there?"

@Ringmaster

Dateline: Thursday September 1st, 2014 - Approx 8pm
 
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I sat in the chair, drinking lemonade, thinking of the past & the future. About a year ago, I woke up and everything was different. I was in Trenton, now Gotham City. I had met the Thorne girl several months back. She seemed likeable enough. Seemed to have a lot on her mind that night. My family, and the Irish " family" had largely survived these changes intact. There seemed to be growing pains merging with Thorne's group and getting used to more masks. Then there was the Bat. We learned as a family to go low profile.

Father died seven years ago and I almost joined him. Bad auto accident. I was in a coma for seven months. I woke up with my long absent mother at my bedside... Only I was no longer in the Trenton hospital. It felt more like being in Rivendell from Lord of the Rings.
 
{ Reminiscence }

The woman sitting at my bedside was tall, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to look straight through me. I couldn't be certain if she was incredibly beautiful or the scariest woman I had ever seen.

You were near death a long time Grady. The family was taking wagers about your survival.

She smiled at me, a proud mama predator surveying her baby bird.

I won of course, no car crash will take my son to the land of the dead. I was a bit worried because you hadn't gotten your gifts yet though.

She pulled back the sheets and blankets to reveal my chest, showing the scars of my recovery. She gently placed her hands over my eyes, then my ears. She caressed my forehead, ran those hands down my neck, rubbing my chest, finally stopping over my heart. I could hear her softly saying something in a very old language, which gradually melted into my head till I seemed to understand it as if I was born to it.

I accept you, Grady Murtaugh as the scion of my body, part of me always and grant you the gifts which your birthright demands.

She continued on in an even older language. This one I didn't understand even a little. I felt a burning, a tingling on my chest. Even then my whole body started to tingle to burn.
I managed to look at my chest briefly before I passed out. only to see the most incredible tattoo of a raven on my chest.


Now.... you are my son Grady Murtaugh.

When next I awoke, all of my wounds were healed and the scars, while still there were minimal. I felt a number of things all at once, strong, healthy and full of long absent vigor. I saw things with a more vivid color, heard birds further away. And still my Mother was nearby.

Good morning my son ! At last you are awake again. Our family will spend several days introducing themselves to you giving you gifts. In a weeks time, I will return you to the mortal realms. The man Patrick O'Flaherty has pledged to care for you. He grieves for his cousin, your father.

She was as good as her word. I had a week of old Irish partying, gift giving and being spoiled rotten. I met every old Irish god there was.. I think. Then it was gone. I was in the Hospital bed. Where an excited April and her Father Patrick were there, practically dancing at my newly wakened status. It's been seven years now. Big Patrick was always there, April the perfect big sister. I was kept out of the family business when I became 18. That being said, Patrick, Patty to his buddies in the Family, taught me everything he could about the business... " just in case " . Every year, the day after my birthday, I was drawn to the land of the Tuatha.. to my Mother.
I live in my father's house now. Hidden closets with priceless crafted gifts, swords, daggers, armor... ancient at that. Another secret closet with all of my father's guns and a lot ... yes, I mean ... a lot of ammo. A simple house, with every security system sold by Stark corp and many of my own design.


@ Michale CS @Ringmaster


 
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I woke up the next day, everything seemingly intact. I know I dreamed, but not what I dreamed.
I got up, showered and dressed.
Black jeans, boots, belt and green embroidered t-shirt with a pocket.
Breakfast is a couple of eggs over medium on top of biscuits and gravy. A large mug of coffee with cream and sugar comes after words.


I head over to April's apartment to search it again. I have a key from Big Patrick.

@Michale CS @Ringmaster
 
I head over to April's apartment to search it again. I have a key from Big Patrick.

@Michale CS @Ringmaster
Thing is, Grady has visited April at her apartment enough times for the super to recognize him, but this time she looks at him oddly, as if she were seeing him for the first time, before shaking her head. "Sorry, thought you were someone else for a moment. Head on up."

The fifty-something lady had definitely been through a lot. Her husband was a boxer, until he got battered around enough to where he had to quit. Now the old man just sits in his chair staring out the window, occasionally remembering bits of his life. Grady had gotten that story from April before, on how she used to come down and have dinner with them the day before holidays, just to give them someone to spend time with around then.

When Grady gets to apartment 23b, on the second floor of this three story brownstone, his key works. Once inside, well, it looks like it's set to be rented out again. The place wasn't big. One main room divided by curtain which would lead to the kitchen and dining area, and a single door that led to the solitary master bedroom. The main room still had the old couch that folded out into a bed, a small living room table and a rather ancient-looking TV with a digital converter box and antenna sitting on top of it.

But anything that April herself had bought wasn't visible, at least in this room. The landscape painting she'd used to cover the hole in the wall made by one of her ex-boyfriends wasn't there, nor was the hole, though it did look like it had been patched over.

He could continue investigating in this room, or he could check the rest of the place out.

@Gands

Dateline: Friday September 2nd, 2014 - Approx 8am
 
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I sigh to mysel and spend a few more moments looking for subtle things. Then I take a few pictures before checking the other rooms.
 
I sigh to myself and spend a few more moments looking for subtle things. Then I take a few pictures before checking the other rooms.
As Grady gets ready to take his pictures, he notices a scrap of paper sticking out from the corner of the fold-away.

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Sticking out from under the rumble bed is a ticket. Like the ones you pick up at the butcher's or the dry cleaners. This one was from the latter. It was to a place called Hong Li's Laundry. It didn't ring a bell with Grady, though it might have been something April used. It wasn't clear at this point.

Nothing else was unusual about the living room at all.
The kitchen, well that was the most curious. While the fridge and stove were built-ins, there was a pale spot on the wall next to where April's Crock-Pot always was. April would often have brisket or cabbage or potatoes or some combination of the three in it while she was on her long work days. If in fact April was just removed from existence, as it had almost appeared initially, this Crock-Pot shaped bright spot on an otherwise dingy wall wouldn't have been there.

In the bedroom, the bed was neatly made, with no sign of any kind of April's things. The Master Bath had a cracked frosted glass window over the shower area before - April always was complaining to the super about getting it fixed. Apparently it had worked because it was good as new.

@Gands
 
I take a picture of the crock pot spot, the bathroom glass and take the note.

I head out, walking towards the dry cleaner with a new spring to my step. Eyes open to spot any following.
 
[fieldbox="Jesse Quick(Flash), red, dashed, 10, Tahoma"]

((Another free post, excluded from the prologue arc but set in the same time period))

My eyes are droopy as I literally drop in and out of consciousness. I'd been up for about the past 38 hours now. The good thing about being a speedster was the increased metabolic process, as well as cellular. I could sleep for 2 hours and feel well rested as if I slept 8 full hours. But for right now I had to finish this research thesis if I was going to get this national grant from the Wayne Foundation. My paper was "The Impact of Superheroes on Society." It was one that I'd started a year ago when I started college. Almost 12 months later I have national recognition from state officials, politicians, heck even senators, science experts, psychologists, and the President themself. Such with that came the everlasting pressure on me. I'd read 2 psychology textbooks full through today just to help me more on this paper. Sounds like a lot, but I actually read both in about 2 minutes...how about that speed eh?

It's not like I could use it elsewhere, I mean...I could use it, but I don't want to. The world is full up enough as it is with vigilantes and superheroes, with a fair share of villains as well. The LAST thing I needed was being exposed as the daughter of Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle. Dad was dead and mom was in a very secretive lifestyle. Only a handful knew that I was her daughter, only a bit more even knew she had a kid which is why she left her cape and bell behind. Thinking about her and the sacrifice dad made gave me a small burst of energy. I look out at the night sky, as if dad was listening.

"Okay...finish this paper."

I brush a missing persons poster out of the way I found earlier to get to my psychology notes and newspaper clippings of superhero related events. Most of them were Justice League stuff. That's all the world cared about anyways. Superman this, Wonder Woman that, and oh God the debates on if The Bat was real or not. I shook my head at the thoughts. The Flash was real though, this much I knew for a fact. Dad used to run with the old Flash...pun intended. His name was Jay Garrick I think, but after he ended up missing or something, everyone thought Flash was dead...until he wasn't. Until one day Flash appeared again in new suit; it was bright red and yellow as opposed to the crimson shirt and metal bowl for a hat. Something told me this wasn't Jay, but I never got to see his face behind the mask. He was too fast for even me at the time. Rumor has it is that he's dead for real now, but you never know with heroes. I start typing up my paper->

The Impact of Superheroes on Society.
By Jessica Belle Chambers
Gotham University

We can’t take a look at the psychological influence of heroes and their superhero feats without also looking at where they came from, and why they hold so much of an impact on society. Some argue that superheroes are integral to world society. This claim comes from the reflection of American social change in many superhero endeavors since 1938, also assisting in the increased popularity and renown of the great in superheroes. World War II prompted The Nazi era famous Hitler-punching heroes such as The Watchmen (first gen) and the Justice Society, and with the coming of The War on Terror following September 11, The Batman's myth dealt with government oversight, akin to current issues of government surveillance or US foreign policy led by the presence of Superman and Wonder Woman. Superman educated children about unaccounted landmines in former Yugoslavia, not a superhero feat, but a very human thing to do as if he were a teacher, and technological changes in the 21st century manifested most noticeably in the current development of Wayne Tech & Lex Corp sponsored products, both of which have been endorsed and condemned by superheroes.

Very human elements in heroes have also addressed societal issues, with the revelation in of some heroes being homosexual reflecting changing views on homosexuality. However this has not always been carried out in what would be called an ethical manner, with some citizens and figures appealing to the masses, for example, by introducing the idea of a Batwoman as a “lipstick lesbian”. Bullying, Racial tensions, you name it...all have been directly influenced by a catalyst of diverse and spectrumized group of heroes and vigilantes. So these and the evolution of superheroes have reflected historical trends and addressed societal problems, but what about the narrower relationship to the individual, rather than the wider community? Importantly, the relationship between them and societal factors is not unidirectional, with a strong direct impact on individuals. Did you think the Green Arrow woke up one day and said "Hey, I want to become the world's best archer and protect my citizens from the terror of the world. Why? For no apparent reason..." Nope, he did not. There were preceding events in this world of the mighty and unknown, some would even say he worshiped the idea of Batman which led to his Robin Hood spin off on the vigilante he's become.

It is not an unusual sight to see a child running through the yard with a Batman or Superman cape, battling imaginary supervillains and saving the world, one treehouse at a time. Pretend play is an important part of a child's development between ages two and seven and is often greatly impacted by the concept of superheroes. Pretend play helps children learn language and develop an understanding of theory of mind (that others may have a different perspective to themselves), and allows the expression of emotions, both negative and positive. But, what about the rest of us? What do WE cling to? Since the arrival of the idea of superheroes beginning in the WW2 era, this psychological dependency and emotional stimulation has increased by factor of 52% alone on the topic of dependency and relativity of a singular subject, in this case, superheroes. Total percentage of every action, event, trending topic, motive, and inspiration regarding said idea (again superheroes) being the #1 reason of causality (state in which something occurs) ...get this, a whopping 616%. Unbelievable. Now you tell me, because I'm not here to debate positive vs negative impact. Millions of lives have been saved, places, days...yet also lives have been lost, bartered, compromised...and places...well-beings, sanity too. But I digress, you tell me... does this impact seem like more that a iconic idealization to you? Or can we all agree that we're starting to see the crater of an influence that it really is...one that is addicting like a drug? Or maybe...one that is as embracing as a worldwide phenomena linking and uniting all of us together in solidarity?

You be the judge.

I hit save on my laptop and high five myself at the killer last touches I put on my paper. Hopefully Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, Ray Palmer, or heck even Ted Kord would see this as interesting and offer me some sponsorship. STAR Labs would obviously be the ideal dream. I wanted to add the death of some superheroes to it....like dad, but I heard these things lose points if you make it personal. I take a deep sigh and look out the window again as the sun starts to rise. I smile, seeing dad's face in the sky like an illusion. I get a text on my phone from one Archimedes Grant, a rich young snob I have to tutor from time to time because his folks spoil him to the point he feels he doesn't have to get good grades because he's basically a multi millionaire and when he does they smile and buy the best tutor money can buy. Such arrogance and ignorance, and yet he'd probably still get in to Yale. Ugh.

Arch Grant=> 'Hey J Bell, ma said that I should text you so you can stop by later and tutor me? She'll pay you your rate plus a little extra, got a boring ass physics text coming up :/ anyways, maybe we can Netflix and Tutor? ;) '

I roll my eyes and put my phone down at the snot's little text. He was only three years younger than me but I swear I've seen zygotes with more maturity than him. I hit the bed and get some sleep, knowing my naps will only be 3 hours tops, and I'll feel back in the zest of life once again. That and I'll need about 10,000 calories to consume today. Which is everyday actually. I'm surprised my roommate isn't back yet, she usually is. She said she had to do something about her friend whom she hasn't seen in a while, and no one seems to know where she's went. Probably decided to drop out of the hell called college and live a happy life. Wouldn't blame her. Slowly but surely, my eyes fall into a quick, deep sleep.

[/fieldbox]
 
I stop on my way out of the apartment house to ask the super when was the last time they saw my sister. I write the answer quickly in my notebook and head out for the dry cleaner.. April's neighborhood was alright, middle class, not far from my own. I walked through it, my mind filling with memories of her and I.
 
I take a picture of the crock pot spot, the bathroom glass and take the note.

I head out, walking towards the dry cleaner with a new spring to my step. Eyes open to spot any following.
I stop on my way out of the apartment house to ask the super when was the last time they saw my sister. I write the answer quickly in my notebook and head out for the dry cleaner.. April's neighborhood was alright, middle class, not far from my own. I walked through it, my mind filling with memories of her and I.
The super stared at Grady for a moment, as if he had asked what she had had for breakfast a month and a half ago, and finally, shook her head. "Isn't that funny? I can't recall. I know it can't have been more than a week, as I remember her paying her rent. But for the life of me I can't think of the exact day. I'm sorry, I guess I'm losing my memory faster than I thought."

The dry cleaner was very obviously not one that April used, unless she was in the habit of picking up or dropping off dry cleaning on the way to and from work. To get to it, Grady was going to have to hail a cab as it was on the south side, not far from the harbor. The only way it would make sense for her to go so far to deal with laundry was if she was going to immediately get on the ferry across the harbor to Metropolis.

So, Grady would probably have to play it vague when he went to claim whatever it was this ticket would claim.

We leave our scion at the front door of the place, in a reasonable but obviously near cheap public transit neighborhood, about to make his decision on how to handle this next.

@Gands

Dateline: Friday September 2nd, 2005 - Approx 9:30am
 
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I get out of the cab, a little nervous. I spend several moments imagining April here, on her way to the ferry and into work. Over there was a coffee shop. April was an unapologetic coffee fiend of the highest order.

I had a couple of relatively recent pictures of her, perhaps I'll go into the coffee shop first, then tackle the dry cleaner.
It's no longer morning, the rushing crowd of people trying to make the morning ferry not present.
A small part of my brain tried to remember what parts of this area had changed, had... Gothamized. Even knowing it had changed, was different, didn't seem to help visualize the changes in my head.


Gotham had a style to it, a very gothic visual style. It was kind of creepy in my mind, but it does grow on you. I walk into the coffee shop, my shillelagh in place as a cane, my limp, mild and really far more of a mental affectation, in place.

I go into the shop, quickly asking for a large earl grey.

Excuse me, * as I take my tea * I am looking for someone dear to me.

I show the barista a couple of pictures of April, one of which has me next to her.

Perhaps someone here has seen here recently ? She would be a coffee person, usually with a shot or two of extra get up and go !

@Michale CS @ Ringmaster
 
Excuse me, * as I take my tea * I am looking for someone dear to me.

I show the barista a couple of pictures of April, one of which has me next to her.

Perhaps someone here has seen here recently ? She would be a coffee person, usually with a shot or two of extra get up and go !
"Buddy, you know how many folks I see every day? Way more than I can keep track of. But, now that you mention it... does seem familiar. I remember her order. One of those folks who always orders the exact same thing. Iced Americano with an extra shot and room for creme, to go. Monday through Friday hustlebustler, her. Thought she might have been on vacation. Ain't seen her in a few days. Maybe she was late the last time she came in. I seem to remember she kept looking over her shoulder, as if she thought the ferry would leave without her, while she was in line." The guy started off with that same blank stare Grady had gotten from the super, but he snapped out of it a lot faster.

And if Grady peered over his shoulder from where he was, he could see the corner across the street with a newspaper stand at the very end of it. He knew that two doors down from that stand was where the dry cleaners was, and that wouldn't be directly visible from inside the coffee shop - it was too far down the block to see it until you got out onto the sidewalk because of the ever-present awnings nearly every shop near the docks had to ward away the morning fog from blanketing everything in a thin layer of moisture.

The Barista hitched his head as the next customer behind him stepped up to place his order for one of those coffee drinks that were more dessert than coffee.

@Gands

Dateline: Friday September 2nd, 2014 - Approx 10am
 
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I leave the café with my tea. As I exit, I step to one side and survey the street again. I walk slowly towards the newspaper stand, looking it over for a moment, buying todays copy of the Planet.

Again, slowly, being watchful, heading towards the dry cleaner. I cannot help being apprehensive. What in the hell is going on and what's with this ticket.

I open the door to the dry cleaner and step in.


@ Michale CS @ Ringmaster
 
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I leave the café with my tea. As I exit, I step to one side and survey the street again. I walk slowly towards the newspaper stand, looking it over for a moment, buying todays copy of the Planet.

Again, slowly, being watchful, heading towards the dry cleaner. I cannot help being apprehensive. What in the hell is going on and what's with this ticket.

I open the door to the dry cleaner and step in.


@ Michale CS @ Ringmaster


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METEOR SHOWER BRIGHT IN SKIES, IMPACTS IN KENT COUNTY
by Bob Harley
staticmap

At a place known as Marvels Crossroads in Kent County, Delaware several meteorites slammed to earth last night. There are no injuries reported but several out-buildings were reportedly damaged by the fragments from space. The Planet spoke to Brock Hampton, a local dairy farmer regarding the incident.

"I heard a big boom and then a crash. I figured well, maybe it's one of them superhero fights that they always try to take out of the big city so's people don't get hurt. Don't that beat all that it's just a buncha rocks. But they got fellas in spacesuits with metal detectors or sommat out in my field, so I reckon I'm gonna wait before I turn my cows out til they find out if it's safe."
When we approached the site we were turned away by people in clean suits who were apparently with the Center for Disease Control, but this reporter saw at least one van there with the logo of the DEO - the Department of Extra-Normal Relations. It appears anything that falls from the sky falls under the purview of this once-secret organization. As always, you can depend on the Planet to keep you informed.
 
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