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Jessie Beadle walked around the market ring of the station in somewhat of a daze. The events of the last couple days still played vividly in her mind. She'd assumed she was going to be stripped of her commission for her unbecoming reaction, but instead the Captain had reacted with sympathy, and hadn't even removed her from her shift. When the battle had started, she'd been prepared, maneuvering the ship into position along with the Moray, flanking the pirates and helping to ensure a quick victory. Though the mission hadn't been without its casualties, which is how Jessie found herself here, rank still intact. She wasn't going to be sent home. She was going to get to continue exploring. Seeing things no humans had ever seen before, and piloting this magnificent ship the whole way!

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Jessie followed her nose to a food stand. Though the proprietor tried to steer her towards more Terran styled foods, Jessie quickly zeroed in on some kind of fried rodent tail, convincing the cook that no, she wouldn't ask for a refund. Now holding her snack, Jessie contemplated it as she wandered. It was strange, sure. Her father would probably freak out if he saw her eating it. But it wasn't bad. Probably could do with a little less salt, but then it probably wasn't seasoned for human taste buds. It was actually really difficult to describe--

"Mission report, Lieutenant."

Startled, Jessie looked around. She'd wandered down a series of cafes, and now stood in front of a table with a man reading the daily news on his commpadd. Eyes narrowing, Jessie cursed to herself. Jevon. He was an agent of Cabal 47, and her main contact. She'd hoped to leave him, and the Cabal behind once they entered the wormhole. She hadn't considered that he'd meet up with her before they could leave. Nor did she consider him taking control of her neural implants to puppet her directly to him.

"I'm waiting, Jessica."

"You know I hate when you call me that."

"And you know that you were supposed to be through the wormhole 48 hours ago. Instead, the Prize comes back damaged and requires days worth of repairs. So as long as we're disappointing each other, I'll call you what I like."

He hadn't even so much as glanced up at her this whole time. He was infuriating. and Jessie could see his hand hovering over a button on his commpadd which would allow him access to her implants again.

"Alright, fine. There was a distress call from a civilian transport. Pirates had captured them. Their captain wanted to negotiate with the ISA for their return, and we were the closest ship. So we were diverted. I wasn't even included in the meetings, my duty shift hadn't started. I only found out when I reported to the bridge and we were in the middle of action. As far as I know, we're planning on continuing with our original mission as soon as repairs are completed. Happy?"

Jessie watched as Jevon's finger tapped thoughtfully on the edge of his commpadd, dangerously close to the override button. She just wanted to leave, but even if she could will her feet to move, Jevon would just pull her back. It would be no use screaming either, the Cabal had shown her how they operated, and she knew that drawing attention would only get herself, and anyone around in a whole heap of trouble.

"Happy? Not remotely." Jevon said after a moment, his finger-tapping coming to an end. "But it lines up with the reports we've received, so you're off the hook. Very well, you're dismissed." He folded up his commpad and Jessie shivered as she felt her motor control returning to her. Turning on her heels, she briskly walked away, her heart pounding in fear and anger as she left Jevon behind, for hopefully the last time.
Jessie listened silently to the proceedings, keeping her head down as she tried not to think too much about the tentacle-faced pirate captain taking up the viewscreen. Thankfully, she was able to look busy, as keeping a ship the size of the Prize stationary while in negotiations wasn't as simple as just pressing the 'Park' button. Minor adjustments, small thruster bursts, the occasional orbit correction, all of these things managed to keep her hands occupied while she listened to the negotiations. The pirates had captives, that much was obvious. The captain was willing to negotiate their release instead of sending them to auction, that was interesting. Jessie knew what pirates usually did to captives. It was why she'd fought so hard to fly her fathers ship away from them all those years ago. Prize's ambassador, Francesca Lunarius according to the computer, was doing a superb job at dealing with them. Even going to far as to pull a nonexistent code out of the air to bluff the pirates into sending the little boy away.

The rest of the negotiation was tense, but uneventful. Jessie was able to keep calm the entire time, but did wonder what was going on, exactly. It wasn't standard procedure to negotiate with pirates. Especially for the prices Du-Vos was demanding. It wasn't until after he cut the transmission on his end with an ominous promise to deal with his crew that Jessie began to piece things together. Captain Carabello was up like a shot, issuing commands in a surprising, but satisfying manner. He mentioned Beta team, implying the existence of an Alpha. A secret plan, likely something to do with the stranded crew transport floating in space and the shuttle missing from their docking bay. Then his attention turned to the bridge crew, with the question Jessica Beadle had been dreading. She had to answer. He was the captain. And if she didn't, the rest oft eh bridge crew would know, and someone would tell him anyway.

Standing up from her station, Lt. Beadle straightened her uniform jacket and cleared her throat. "It was me, sir. Lt. Jessica Beadle. Today is my first on-duty day, I was taken aback by the pirates when I entered the bridge. I have a... History with pirates, sir. I'm very sorry, I should have been more professional, I could have endangered the negotiations." She admitted, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a single breath. This was it, she'd be dismissed for sure. Sent back to starbase, possibly stripped of her rank, if not booted entirely. Then the Cabal would be after her for the cost of the surgeries and implants and the favors and strings pulled and she'd be running for the rest of her life...
Jessica Beadle, or Jessie as she prefered to be called, woke slowly as the lights in her quarters came up to daylight levels. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair, wincing and grumbling as she caught a snag from her rough bedhead. She'd been sleeping fitfully ever since getting the posting on the Prize. Not due to any sort of nervousness of course, this is what she'd dreamed of for years! But she'd been antsy and anxious while she waited for her term as the sips navigator to officially start. While still in charted space, lower level crew members and Cake, the onboard AI, had been taking care of navigational duties. However, with today being the scheduled date for the ship to enter Kepler's Passage, Jessie was set to take over as the chief pilot for the ship. Thanks to her high marks at the academy (And no small part due to her... Enhancements), the young girl had been specially picked to help guide the ship through any tight spots they might face in uncharted space. Unfortunately, as she discovered after a brief glance at the duty roster on her communication pad, the plans had changed. Kepler's Passage would be another day, while the ship was being redirected to help with a pirate threat.

Jessie shuddered at the notion of pirates. Though it had directly led to her posting here, the pirate attack on her fathers cargo ship had been the scariest day of her life. She still had nightmares about it, all these years later. Thankfully, it appeared that because she wasn't yet technically active duty, she had escaped the call to arms from the captain. She wondered what he was like. What the rest of the crew was like, for that matter. As she began to get ready for the day, Jessie surveyed her quarters. Practically every spare surface was covered in tools and bits of machinery. She'd spent a lot of time sequestered here, working on her projects rather than getting to know the crew. Hopefully that would change after today. Her duty assignment hadn't actually been postponed, so this would be her first day on duty, and her first experience on the bridge. She hoped to make a good first impression.

After showering and making herself presentable, Jessie headed over to the tiny kitchenette in the corner of her quarters. She was lucky to be considered senior staff, most lower level crewmates had to bunk with each other and deal with the public kitchen and reconstitution areas of the ship. She scannned over the reconstituted cardboard boxes, printed with colorful designs and each holding a specially made recipe based on old Earth breakfast cereals. Though they'd been mostly phased out of modern life due to their lowish nutritional value and high sugar content, they were still available as cheap food sources on outskirt colony worlds, like the one Jessie had grown up on. Of course, with production being limited, Jessie had learned how to make her favorite cereals herself, with the help of matter reconstitutors and some basic ingredients. Picking one, she made herself a bowl and began to go over the navigation specifications of the Prize for what felt like the millionth time since receiving her posting.

An hour later, with her head buzzing with knowledge and itching to start work, Jessie slipped on her duty jacket and adjusted her rank pins. She slipped her comm pad into its holster and stepped out into the brightly lit corridors of the ISS Prize, walking purposefully towards the bridge. Though she felt like a badass, she quickly realized that she must look slightly ridiculous, with her short stature and tiny frame trying to push past people crowding the hallways. Grumbling to herself she took to slipping past people, taking advantage of small gaps to maneuver towards her destination.

Finally reaching the bridge, Lt. Jessica Beadle paused, straightening her uniform before waving the door open and stepping inside... Just to see the viewscreen filled with a tentacled pirate and a phase rifle trained on a young boy. For a second, her mind flashed back to the attack on her fathers ship, and Jessie cried out in surprise and panic. Captain Carabello barely reacted to the noise, merely continuing negotiations. Great. Good first impression, Beadle. Lowering her head, the pilot quickly made her way to the helm station, quietly dismissing the ensign sat there and slipping into her place, trying not to stare at the viewscreen as she imagined what was to come...
Hello! I noticed this RP and have been talking with Jeyma a little bit about joining, so here's my application! If there are any issues, please let me know, I'm willing to be flexible about this character idea!




January 9th, 7:00 PM
Haven Cultural Center, Gotham NJ


Emma Graves stepped out of her top-floor office, catching the eye of her personal assistant, Ace Hyh. The tall, somewhat nerdy man made eye contact with her before glancing towards the waiting are outside her office and mouthing 'reporter'. Emma sighed, pausing before she turned the corner and making sure her suit jacket was straight. After a moment, she pasted on a bright smile and turned the corner, extending her hand to the waiting brunette woman fiddling with her audio recorder.

"Emma Graves, Haven founder. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms...?"

Reacting with a start, the woman stood up and fumbled with her recorder, turning it on before extending her other hand to accept the shake. "Oh! Laney Losset, Gotham Daily. We're a new startup blog for the greater Gotham area, and I was hoping to get a brief interview with you?"

"Of course, we can walk and talk. Give me just one moment." Emma said with a polite smile before turning to Ace. "I'll take the stairs down to the parking garage in order to have time to answer Ms. Losset's questions. Please get my car ready and unlock the doors. I'll be there soon." Trusting her assistant pick up on the message she was sending, Emma turned back to the reporter, noting with amusement that she appeared to be thrown off by the though of taking the stairs all the way down from the top floor.

The interview went mostly well in Emma's opinion. The questions were mostly softballs, obviously a probing interview from an amateur reporter. The only potential problem had come as Emma described the psychiatric services Haven offered, mentioning that Doctor Quinzel often provided her services. That had led to a discussion about the ethics of contracting a former supervillain for the cultural center, but Emma had defused the situation by pointing out that Haven was a place for marginalized minorities, and that there were few more marginalized that a reformed leader of the Joker gang. All too soon, the reporter had grown tired of the rehearsed answers and the long climb down the stairwell, and she left Emma alone to find an elevator, cutting the interview short.

Climbing down a few more floors, Emma Graves exited the stairwell, looking around the floor she found herself on. The art workshop, still bustling with activity from some of Haven's more artistically talented patrons. Spending a few minutes examining a particularly impressive sculpture being worked on by an elderly harpy, Emma excused herself and stepped into the waiting elevator. Tapping a secret code into the button pad, she smiled as the machine lurched, being drawn into a secret elevator shaft and descending into the depth of her building. Knocking twice on a section of the elevator wall, the embedded magical rune revealed itself, deactivating the magic which disguised Emma Graves form. The illusion of the sharply dressed business woman fell away, replaced by a more colorful woman. The dark purple suit was cut in the same style as her disguise, but laid much more casual on her frame. her metallic, gauntlet-like gloves clicked together as she tugged at her cuffs. What little skin could be seen turned pure, pale, porcelain white as her hair shifted into a wild mess of colors. Anarkee stretched and clapped her hands together once as she descended,looking forward to the night ahead of her.

Scant moments later, the elevator dinged and Anarkee stepped out into a dimly lit, silk-curtained reception room. a man sat behind a desk here, his purple robe marking him as one of her mages. "Ah, Ms. Anarkee, you've arrived. The party is in full swing, as Ace instructed. Turnout is high tonight, I believe we picked up a larger attendance from the New Years crowd, which should bring some life into the club. There have been no incidents thus far, and your normal place is waiting for you.

"Lovely. Thanks Jeeves," Anarkee responded with a wild grin before parting the curtains in front of her and stepping out into the thumbing base of the club music. Her senses were immediately assaulted by a bevy of stimuli. The contrast of the darkness of the previous room and the now flashing lights and strobing pulses through the smoke interior set her to pause, blinking as her eyes adjusted. The smokey mixture of nicotine, marijuana, incense, sickly-sweet vaping oils, and other unidentified smells would have knocked a lesser human on her ass. Anarkee however, was no lesser human. She took a deep breath as her eyes adjusted, smelling and tasting the conflicting sensations in the air as the thumping beats of the club shook her eardrums and body. The mass of bodies in front of her brought a smile to her face, some dancing wildly to the music of the DJ, some drinking at the bar, some lounging at the edges of the room partaking in illicit substances. There were people sneaking into side rooms for dalliances with their partners, high-stakes gambling taking place on the balcony above, dealings in arms and armor and other illegal dealings happening all around her, with the house taking a cut od every single transaction.

Weaving her way through the crowd, Anarkee was used to the way they parted for her. She had learned long ago that to earn respect you had to own it, and her confident strides and piercing eyes were enough to clear a part for her to the far end of the room, where Ace sat in an ornate chair at the head of the Angel's Table. The other chairs were filled with purple-clad creatures of all types; her lieutenants. The gang was thriving these days, they had scooped up much of the Joker territory after the fall of his gang, and were now engaged in uneasy dealings with Aquila to keep their territory. Ace stood as she approached and moved to his own designated seat next to hers. "Just keeping it warm for you, boss."

"Thank you, darling." Anarkee said as she eased herself into the cushioned chair. She sighed and looked around the club, basking in the empire she had built. Taking a sip of her waiting drink, Anarkee finally settled in and looked to her people. "Right. Now then, down to business."
For your consideration, a cork board with scraps of newspaper and photos, with string connecting the 'clues'.


Jason Graves, Overclock
January 18th, 11:32 PM
Vanguard Plaza, Gotham, NJ.


Another day, another dollar. Undercutting all the other electrical contractors in this district of the city had helped him get the job as Vanguard's go-to emergency electrician, but it didn't put much towards paying the bills. Oh well, Jason Graves thought as he dug through his toolbox for an insulated screwdriver, Vanguard did good work for people like him. The "M's", he called them privately. Mages, Monsters, and Metahumans. Maybe not the most polite term, especially for the Monsters, but it was just a quick shorthand for himself. Plus, Vanguard helped connect him to other projects in the area, giving him some more work during his daylight life. Normally by this time, Jason would have been roaming the street, looking for criminals to decriminalize, dressed in a leather jacket and an eye-catching red mask. However, a panicked all from the head custodian of the Vanguard building and an explanation that someone had sabotaged the emergency generators led Jason here tonight, working his usual emergency rate, which would go a long way towards paying the rent this month.

"Hey man, how much longer here?" The Vanguard security officer asked, looking up from his phone. "We've got kind of a thing tonight, and we need these gennies up."

"Wish I could tell you man." Jason said, removing the final mounting screw and pulling out a bundle of destroyed wires. "Whoever did this knew where to hit it. If it had just been a cut supply line, I could have mocked up a temp line in about an hour. This guy got into the guts of the machine though, and cut a bunch of internal feeds. I've even caught a few instances where they rewired things backwards, which would have blown this guy up spectacularly. I can probably be done with this one here in about twenty minutes, but then..." Jason motioned down the long electrical room towards the line of four other emergency generators. "Now that I know what I'm looking for, it'll probably go faster. With four left though--"

"I get it, I get it." The security guard muttered, going back to his phone. "No skin off my back. I get paid either way, and the cameras don't catch me on my phone here."

"I hear you buddy. I'll at least try to get you home at a decent hour." Jason said, chuckling to himself. He barely finished the thought however, before the lights above went out. Thankfully, Jason's own battery-operated lights still illuminated the room, but a chill went through him as he and the guard made eye contact with each other. "That, uh... Have anything to do with your 'Thing' tonight?"

Before the guard could respond, the entire building shook. Dust fell around the pair as the distinct sound of gunfire sounded from above. The guard snapped to attention, drawing a pistol and glancing at Jason, obvious fear in his eyes.

Right. Time to really go to work.

Jason Graves reached into his toolbox and dug around, pointing to the guard with his free hand. "Hear that yelling? That's Big Red. You need to get people out. Dude can't be stopped, not by you. Find people pinned down, try to get them out. Don't get yourself killed in the process." With a snap, Jason pulled out a small red facemask, fitting it over his eyes. The reactive nanite armor (Thank you, Grim.) began to unfold, covering his head with the bright red mask and fitting his HUD and earpiece in place. Slipping on his brown leather jacket, the simple costume was complete, and Overclock stood, turning to the guard. "Also, don't tell anyone about the vigilante thing."

---------------------------------------


A few moments later, Overclock was skulking through the ruined lobby of Vanguard HQ. Red had left an obvious trail of destruction, but there were signs of others here as well. They'd gone a different direction, and... Well, Overclock could still hear Red, and it sounded like someone else had gotten to him first. Better right now to go after the mysterious second group.

Though it wasn't a mystery for long. Entering a nearby stairwell, Jason could see a few floors up the distinct view of the Arcane Cowboy and his gang. Two of the Five. This must be big. Overclock pulled out a heavy-duty rubber band from his pocket and pulled it between his fingers. He's discharged all of his batteries into himself before coming upstairs, so he had excess energy. Charging the band with a nice wallop of lightning, Overclock took aim, nailing one of the mercs with enough force to knock him over the railing and down two floors. Taking advantage of the confusion, he took out two more goons the same way.

"Hey cowpokes, looks like you're in a whole mess of trouble!" He called up, pulling out his staff and beginning to ascend slowly. Guns didn't phase him in the slightest, but... Everyone knew that Cowboy carried magitech, and that magic was a bit unpredictable to Overclock. He'd have to be careful.
SARAKA KUTE
January 2nd, 1:15 am
Sector 32, High Earth Orbit


@pyroman @Sir Lurksalot


Saraka watched the Kryptonian and the Green Lantern, his responsibility, with great interest. He'd received the alert about the great ship on its collision course about the same time as the rest of them, and had followed the pair back up into space. Of course, neither of them knew about his presence due to Saraka shielding himself and becoming invisible thanks to his Blue Ring. Since Grim had left the pair on the space station the previous day, Saraka had decided his best course of action was to observe until his assistance was needed. He wanted to learn more about Earth culture, and see how Preston responded to various situations. He hadn't had to wait long. The battle with the multi-headed creature had given him plenty of mull over, and he was seeing even more now with this ship. Preston was talented, to be sure. A strong will, impressive even by other Green Lanterns standards. But he was still new, still wet behind the ears. He was, perhaps, overconfident. In his haste, Preston seemed to have set the ship on a course that was perhaps not the wisest, and now the small group would have to deal with that. Fortunately, more experienced heads were prevailing. The Kryptonian, by the name of The Champion, was formulating his own plan, coordinating with Preston and the occupant of the ship. Preston, for his part, reached on on standard frequencies, finally resting Saraka's help.

With a toothy grin, Saraka dropped his cloaking shield, appearing quite close to the flying pair and the trailing ship. "No worries, Green Lantern, you did not abandon me at all!" He said cheerily, turning to examine the ship behind them. "I've been observing to determine the best way that we can assist each other. In this particular situation, the solution is simple. I merely need to activate your Power Ring, and both our Rings will unlock their potential. This... May be intense." Saraka paused before continuing, this would be the first time he actually would be involved in a supercharged situation like this. Saint Walker had spoken about it at length, it was one of the greatest abilities of the Blue Lantern Corps, but Saraka himself was, perhaps, nearly as wet behind the ears as Preston when it came to Lantern duties. However, they hid a mission to fulfill, and the pair would need to establish their rapport soon, before worse things came...

"In fearful day, in raging night,

With strong hearts full, our souls ignite,

When all seems lost in the War of Light,

Look to the stars, for Hope burns bright!"


Reciting the Blue Lantern Oath, Saraka channeled his power through the Ring he wore, extending the emotional connection to Preston's own Power Ring. Instantly, it was as if the sky lit up with stars. Saraka had been experiencing the slow unlocking of his own Ring due merely to the presence of Preston's, but now, with the pair of Rings fully connected, there was so much more in the shark-like alien's toolbox. Knowledge of how to create and manipulate constructs filled his mind, and he immediately began to do so, shoring up potential weak points in the green hardlight structure Preston had created, with his own Blue Ring Energy. The construct itself became more robust as well, completely covering the damaged ship in a new, protective shell. Saraka grinned at the newly reinforced ship before turning back to the pair of heroes beside him.

"Oh yes, and Mr. Champion. I don;t believe we've met yet. I am Saraka Kute, Blue Lantern assigned to Preston. It is an honor to meet you."

-----------------------------------------------

Custos Lolligo
January 2nd, 1:30 am
Basement bunker, Halifax Canada


Custos wandered the halls of the old WWII era bunker slowly, unable to sleep for the life of him. The bunker was a haven of sorts, built under the lighthouse that Duncan and his family maintained. After the Fall of Atlantis, with so many refugees needing homes and Custos being a member of the League, Duncan's family had been kind enough to offer part of the bunker to him. They were good people. They'd have to be for Mako to have married one of them, she always had good taste. And Custos had seen that too, the genuine love for each other that they all had, which now extended to him, years later. These days, this place was as close to a home as he had. Of course, with Duncan gone, it was unsettlingly quite. Which was what led to the wandering.

After having come down from the Station the previous day, Custos had attempted to help with the Hydra situation. He was a member of the damn Justice League after all. But his skills... Didn't really suit the fight. He'd helped evacuate people from the path of the creature, but he couldn't do anything to hurt it, slow it down, or even distract it. Champ, Wonder Woman, Morgan's kid, even Grim had all helped to take it down, and then... There was Kraken. On cleanup duty, as usual. Sighing to himself, Custos shook his head. He didn't resent his teammates, far from it. The group of them had saved the world on more than one occasion. It was just... Well, take Grim for instance. When he first met Zoey Kasimir, she was a reclusive shut-in who put on some body armor and beat up deranged criminals. Now, she had built the biggest planetary defense force the world had ever seen, and suits of armor that could kill a god. Duncan had been a teenager, scared to lift a finger until it was his family on the line. Now he was Earths Greatest Hero. In those days, Kraken had been an elite special agent, specializing in infiltration and underhanded techniques. Now... He was the same. Just a decade older. He couldn't keep up.

And that all was why, when Duncan had shot off into space to investigate whatever was headed for Earth, Custos had called his old teammate, Mako. He'd explained his plan. Revealed the secret he'd been keeping for half a decade. She'd barely believed him at first, but once he convinced her he was serious... She was on board. And that was good enough for Custos. Finally stopping his walk outside a locked door, Custos stared at it, fighting down the urge to debate himself again on if he should do it. Something needed to change. Pulling a key off his belt, Custos unlocked the lead-lined door, flicking on an old light switch inside. Rows of shelves stacked with boxes full of official-looking paperwork were illuminated. The lead was really a flimsy precaution, he'd explained it to Duncan as a way to give Atlantean diplomats plausible deniability once they eventually took control again that nobody, not even The Champion, had seen state secrets. State secrets Custos had stolen from the capitol city of Posiedonis during the siege. Things he'd been ordered to take, things, he thought were too valuable to leave behind, things that Mera would have used against all of them if she'd had her hands on them.

And wrapped in a thick cloth, hidden behind the furthest shelf, was one other stolen object. Pulling it from its hiding place, Custos gently set it down on a convenient desk and unwrapped it slowly. The golden glint of metal seemed to light up the room as the Trident of Altantis was revealed. A literal gift from the gods, this Trident had long been in the possession of the royal family of Atlantis. Legends said with it, one could control the seas, command its creatures, manipulate the storms themselves, and more. The legends were true. Custos had seen King Orin wield the Trident against his enemies before. During the siege, when it became clear the city would fall, Orin's last command to Custos before disappearing was to retrieve the Trident, and bring it to safety. It had been hidden here in the bunker ever since. And now, it would see light of day once more.

Reach out, Custos slowly gripped the Trident, holding it aloft. He'd been the most magically talented of the Argonauts, though he never kept up with his arcane training. He knew enough though, and knew how to channel some power. Concentrating on the artifact in his hands, Custos willed his magic to bond with the ancient power. for a moment, the Trident seemed to resist him, reflecting his amateurish attempts to connect with the Trident, bu then... He made contact. Lightning sparked from the tip of the trident, blowing out the bulb and plunging the room into darkness. Custos could feel the energy stored in the artifact fill his body, overloading his senses. He felt the metal in his hands warp and twist of their own accord, though he could not see the result. He felt his own body begin to twist and change, the magic coursing through him causing something to unlock within himself... And then Custos fell to the floor unconscious, the clattering of metal echoing through the bunker...





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