_tsunami_:

Cait looked at her reflection in the full length mirror again. She was a bit nervous to say the least. Tonight was her first official date with Aaron. It had taken some time thanks to world devouring individuals delaying it a bit, but Cait was finally going on a date with Aaron.

She checked her reflection again. Her outfit was simple. New-ish jeans, a white blouse and a pair of sensible shoes. Her jewelry was handmade and from Nova Roma. Cait didn't do fancy, but tonight she had made it a point to look her best without going formal. Sylvie had helped with her makeup since Cait didn't normally bother with makeup and would have ended up looking like a clown without help.

Cait wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. By Jupiter's beard she was nervous.

nextgen_adult:

Margaret Donovan looked at the prototype with satisfaction. The first model was almost ready for field testing. The software was finally finished and the hardware was done as well. They just had to put the finishing touches n it and then see how it did in the field. That of course was the most important part. The government didn't want technology and weapons that didn't work.

"When will it be ready for a field test?" she asked the man standing next to her.

"In a week, Ms. Donovan," he replied. "We're ironing out the bugs and kinks. We should have them all fixed within a week."

"Excellent. You and your team have made amazing progress."

The man beamed under the praise. "We could have never done it without the information you provided."

"I know," she said matter of factly. "When this field test succeeds we will be ready to start taking contract bids."

"Ah yes," he replied. He didn't care for such matters. He left that to people like Ms. Donovan while he focused on the research and design.

"Thank you," she said before turning to leave.

nextgen_asgard:

Once the players had all been gathered, Loki transported himself, along with Ardis and Halbjorn, the spider-god Ohu, the mortals Grace, Griffen, and Dawn, and the mysterious woman called Marlow, to Asgard. It was a desolate, abandoned region, where few would ever traverse. He himself had only been here to make certain that the Norn Stones had still been in place, should he require them for a future plot. He had discovered the Grandmaster only by chance.

The Grandmaster, the being who stood before them now.

"Greetings again to thee, Elder," Loki said, feigning humility and feeling disgust at doing so. The Elders were older even than the Asgardians themselves, possibly the one set of beings in the universe who might yet give them pause. He it galled him to know there were beings truly his superior. "And again, mine thanks for thine leave to gather mine champions. T'will make for a most entertaining game, I doth assure thee."

swashbuckler:

Steve plopped himself down in front of the mansion TV and turned it on, randomly flipping through channels, briefly landing on the cartoon channel, while he looked over to the bowl of chips he'd brought with him.

"Super-Buddies...  HERO -UP!"

That got his attention.

On the screen were...  were... he wasn't sure what he was seeing.  There were six of them, all done up in some kind of bizarre super-deformed/cutified style.

"Iron-Girl!"
"Flag-Boy!"
"Bow-Kid!"
"Buzzer!"
"Presto!"
"Like, Cosmic-Kid!"

"Super-Buddy Squad... HERO-UP!"

Anya.  Charlie.  Himself.  Vernique.  Daniel.  And Iason.

And he watched as they set about fighting what he was reasonably sure were that Zemo-chick and some of the Masters of Evil.

"Hey you guys, pay attention and fight!" that was Iron Girl.

"Hey, don't get your iron-pants in a wad, sweetcheeks!" That was Bow-Kid.

"By the mystical signs of Albaline!"

"Like, whoa.  These dudes are mondo evil!"

"Stand firm, buddies!  Evil can never prevail against good old American justice!"

"Hey!  They almost swatted me!"

Steve continued staring at the TV as it went to commercial.

"...Are we getting paid for this?"

ng_independent:

Phoebe Stevens sat in her brightly lit, perfectly decorated office at the Foundation for a Finer Life headquarters.

She was reading the newspaper.

It was reporting that Roxxon Energy executive J. Pierpont Krieger, alleged to have been the driving force between many of the corporation's most socially and environmentally harmful recent policies, had been robbed, tied to his bed, and beaten within an inch of his life in the night. The concussion was too severe to make an adequate description of his assailants. His bodyguards, who had been with him for several years and were said to have impressive superhuman powers, had gone missing. All of the building's security cameras had been stolen in the course of the night.
The paper reported that a note on perfumed yellow paper had been pinned to Krieger's pajamas saying "Someone might need to rethink his life!"

The paper reported that each "i" in the note had been dotted with a heart.

Phoebe smiled as she put the paper down. Such nice boys, those guards. They'd look so confused as she'd walked towards them, giving them a bright, serene smile as the energy fields they throw at her skidded like water off a duck's back. They'd just needed to be shown the way, poor things, her hands on their faces as she explained, as they broke down.

More recruits for the foundation, a just deed done....and publicity.