Most people would probably have more sense than to continue taunting such a monstrous being, however Black Jack oddly found some kind enjoyment out of it. The Executioner’s frustrated comment provoked an amused laugh. “Hahahaha! Could I be any gayer? Well of course I could.” He narrowed his eyes on The Executioner and changed his more playful tone of voice to a hushed more suggestive one. “Would you… like for me to show you?” But instead of addressing the comment, The Executioner continued making his case, for lack of a better word, and Black Jack listened. The more he listened, the more he believed that The Executioner was just an angry person in general, an angry person with an abundance of weaponry, armor and probably strength to match. Someone that dangerous could be quite frightening when left to their own devices but that was a concern for the authorities, or a small army.

Black Jack was many things but he wasn't a fool. The fact that The Executioner ignored his request to open the briefcase and tossed it to the ground for him to do instead, set off an alarm. Either the briefcase was rigged or The Executioner was also ignorant to its contents and didn't want to be the test dummy that opened it.

‘So? We got a deal or what?’ The Executioner asked.

Black Jack stepped onto the briefcase with one foot as it was slid over to him, eyeing it with a cocked brow. Glancing up from the case, he noticed The Executioner fidgeting or scratching himself and he made his decision quickly.

“Okay, but first how’s about a little kiss.” He teased. Leaning forward at first, he swiftly and nimbly leapt into a handspring over The Executioner’s weapon, briefly landing in a handstand on top of the giant’s head of all places. Giving the helmet an upside down kiss, he then completed the handspring by pushing himself off of the helmet and onto the nearby armored vehicle. He rolled across the roof of the truck but before he could properly erect himself, the briefcase exploded. The sheer force of the blast pushed him further, rolling off of the opposite side of the truck and safely into a small nook between the truck and the adjacent building. The armored truck provided a buffer for him and absorbed the brunt of the blast, luckily leaving him only a little banged up.

~Well that was some kiss!.~ He thought as he exhaled and rolled his neck. He decided not to stick around after the explosion for several reasons, so after The Executioner had recovered, he would find that Black Jack was no where to be found.

Executioner

Malcolm continued looking around for at least a minute to make sure the freakshow was gone, eventually deciding he was when The Executioner started to notice all the people around them on the street who had apparently been watching and/or panicking. One in a particular, an asian teen, was standing unusually close behind the hulk, filming everything with his phone's camera. When Malcolm noticed him, the beast turned on the spot and roared, "Oi, you! The hell do yah t'ink yer doin?! Get de fuke outta 'ere!" Strangely, the kid wouldn't move. Either he had a deathwish or balls of steel similar in size to Malcolm's, as the Atlas approached, "Are you fucking stupid, kid?"

The teen answered by holding the phone's camera "Stupid? I'm going to be famous for uploading this to YouTube! Quick, what's your name?! Are you a supervillain or a superhero?" Inside his helmet, Malcolm was raising an eyebrow at the teen's confidence, "Kid, there aren't any superheroes or supervillains. That's not how the world works, even if there are these other fucking 'Supers' running around using their abilities recklessly. Give anyone an ounce of power over other people, and you'll be damn certain they're going to take advantage of it eventually." With that said, Malcolm boomed away towards an alley and a sewer entrance, before shouting as he disappeared into the shadows, "And I'm The Executioner of those who take advantage of it."

As he walked in the labyrinthian sewers he had come to know like the back of his hand, Malcolm took the flash drive out of the mag he'd hidden it in, and stared at it as he walked, "Heh heh... Stupid corporate schmucks. I wonder what damning evidence might be on you, missy..."

-Eudora-
-The Tower-

Only one other man had ever kept Eudora Carver waiting- that was her former husband; who, by happy coincidence, was dead. It had been an astonishing ten minutes of silence in the empty spare board room before a young staff member entered through one of the sliding glass doors at the far end. The employee was a cute girl, well dressed for an executive and less than twenty years younger than the Godmother herself.

"Unless that rolling tin can had a sex change and learned to walk, I don't believe I'll be needing to speak with you." Eudora said plainly.

"Mister Bakker isn't feeling well today. He's enlisted me to take on all of his meetings today. Including this one." The girl replied. "My name is Jennifer Winters and it's an honor to meet you."

Eudora motioned for the other woman to take a seat without speaking a word. Instead, she reached into her small clutch purse and pulled out a single cigarette that she lit and inhaled deeply. Rage bubbled lightly within her, she would have preferred not letting anyone else within the company know how much of what was going on she was truly aware of. Ignorance was the best way to battle accusations, after all.

"They've made significant progress in analyzing the radiation given off by the meteorite." Winters said, starting off.

"What kind of radiation might that be?" Eudora asked.

Jennifer furrowed her brow. "Well, they aren't quite sure, to be honest, ma'am. The meteorite itself isn't composed of any element found on Earth- or anything we've gathered from our solar system so far. The waves emitted from the stone are being processed and recorded but they don't even calibrate properly with any of our sensors. The only thing we know is that it's somehow fueling how the laws of physics break with these new supers."

"How wonderful to have a team of such competent scientists between our two companies that have learned . . . absolutely nothing."

Winters looked as if she was about to speak up for a moment before instantly falling silent. Eudora ashed her cigarette on top of the files Jennifer had brought in, if only as a sign of power within the discussion. Exhaling the cloud of smoke like a contemplative dragon, she finally spoke up.

"What about the seven?" She asked.

"They're still in quarantine." Winters replied, looking mildly concerned. "Some of their bodies have reacted far worse than the others. We don't know if it would vary between them, but initial testing shows a likely mortality rate of seventy five percent within the next few days."

Eudora tapped her fingertips on the desk in thought. "So. We'll continue with current protocol for the time being. If anything changes or if there are any slip-ups by either team, we'll move on to Phase Two."

Winters nodded, jumping up as soon as Eudora began to stand, as if she had been sitting on a tac the whole time. Eudora put her cigarette out on top of the paperwork as she stood, burning a small hole in the center as she snuffed the embers out. The older woman grabbed her purse and slid the chair out of her way as she took a few steps away from the conference table.

"I trust that rusted old Roomba you have for a boss will be able to attend our charity function this weekend?" Eudora asked, her tone cheerily masking the harsh words.

Winters nodded shakily, not sure if she should correct the Godmother. "Yes, ma'am I believe so."

"Good. Tell him to put some streamers on his handle bars. It's gonna be one hell of a party." She said over her shoulder as she exited the room and left The Tower.

-Finn-

Finn watched helplessly at the amount of carnage his brother was capable of producing. During their shaky escape from the bank, on of the duffle bags snagged on the broken wrought iron window frame and dumped a portion of coins, cash and jewelry into the street below as they hovered into the chaos of the street. While the water wielding hero put out some of the easier fires, Finn found it easier to escape while exploding hydrants hid them out of view from the ground.

Turning the duffle bag on its side to keep it from spilling any more, Pulse attempted to hold his scorching brother at a safe distance while the four objects bobbed through the sky. By the time a passerby spotted them, they would already be floating a block away and into the less populated area of town. Luckily, the news and police helicopters seemed to be distracted with a truck robbery across town.

Unable to regain any of his composure while fleeing through the skyline of the city, they crash-landed at the abandoned section of the docks. Tumbling and rolling to a stop, Fin was glad he hadn't been holding the safety deposit box when he went limp like a rag doll. Breathing heavily, it took a minute before he could even push his body up from the ground and manage to stand shakily on two legs.

Considering he had moved them through the city to the point of exhaustion, Finn didn't mind letting his taller brother carry the two bags of loot while he took the safety deposit box back. They made it the short distance to the condemned scrap yard and didn't speak until the pair made it inside the rickety old elevator that had last been renovated sometime in the forties.

The Regel brothers inspected the loot within the two bags, one considerably more full than the other. There was a good deal of jewelry they would need to pawn off, gold and silver coins and about seventy thousand dollars in cash. There was an unfortunate amount of stocks and bonds that were virtually useless to the two brothers without proper identification. Overall, it was about one hundred thousand dollars in two small bags; more money and precious items than he had ever seen

Thoughts of renovating and adding to their base of operations came to mind. They were going to need security, monitoring- hell, even floors and walls would do. His mindset moved to the methods they had used to accomplish the robbery. Far more guilt began to take hold of him than he expected. Finn made a promise to himself that he wouldn't endanger anyone on their way in and out, something that he wasn't able to uphold.

"We can't do that again."Finn said to his younger brother out of no where. "No more hurting civilians for fun. We don't want to be a national most wanted criminal."

Before it turned into an argument, Finn turned his attention to the safety deposit box that had been worth so much trouble. With a wave of his hand, the lock audibly broke and the brass lid swung open. Inside was a single, simple object: a small black flash drive.

"So. . . who gets to find out what's on this thing?"

*BEEP BEEP BEEP!!*

The blonde's eyes slowly opened as her arm fished blindly off the couch for her phone. She drew it up to her face to read it, the harsh glow nearly blinding her. 7:45 stood out on her background of the movie poster from Fast Five. Rubbing her face, she swung her legs over to stand. The pallor twilight filtered in through her blinds, casting illumination over the dinky apartment of wooden furniture, clothes strewn about the floor, and Pepsi cans piled high. Hope had been right. It was an anxious day. And she hoped it to be longer than tonight would be. Got the bottom floor all walled up, second floor's base was almost finished, and she had her inbox flooded with police transcripts, videos, and potential leads. Rising to stretch, a thought hit her.
"Oh shit," she croaked from dry mouth. Hope was finished working at about 3 that afternoon and decided to take a nap... but promised Seeds she'd be up about 7:30. Too late now. She swiped in her code to unlock her phone and was met with 3 missed messages and a phone call. Searching through her contacts, she found the Hax R Us designator she had assigned to Seeds and his friends and tapped the screen to give him a call. One ring, two rings, three...
"Hello?" came the distant echoing voice.
"Yo," Hope cracked, picking up a half-full can of Pepsi from her wooden coffee table and choking it back to relieve her sore throat.
"What happened to 7:30? Thought you gave up on us. Or were dead or something." Hope let a puff of air escape her nose.
"I was taking a nap. Had a hard day at work and I'm probably not going to sleep tonight anyway. You got anything new for me?" Hope hesitated a little bit, peering out her blinds to watch the sun fall behind the horizon. "Actually, give me a round up. Head's still kind of foggy."
"Actor's still not in costume yet, is she?" Seeds taunted from his... mom's basement or whatever.
"No, she's not. Just give me,like, fifteen minutes to gear up. Tops."
"Alright, alright. Once you've suited up, we'll talk. Call me when you're awake."
"Yeah, that too." As always, Hope hung up without saying goodbye. She let out a yawn and began to roam around her shitty little home to gather supplies.

Hope was dressed in a black V-neck T-shirt, a pair of paint splattered jeans (fit around the waist, loose around the legs), a pair of black Vanns skate shoes, and wearing a look as if she had awakened from the grave. A black backpack was slung over her shoulder, already packed up with everything she'd need for the night. Superhero hoodie/cape, snowboarding goggles she got on the cheap from her friend Ryan, neck gaiter from same friend, utility belt from the Army surplus store about ten blocks away, tire iron of great justice with an incredibly handy sling to keep it from falling from her back mid-flight and jacking up someone's car insurance rate, and ultra light paintball vest that could stop... actually, she was unsure what the hell it could stop. Might make punches land a little softer. Looked badass. Whatever, the badass part made it worth wearing. Letting the loose apartment door slam behind her, she trudged up three flights of stairs to make her way to the roof. No one was there but her, as per the norm, when she began to really get ready for action. Vest on, hoodie on, goggles on, face mask on, gloves on, tape around the knees and ankles, shin guards and knee pads strapped and ready to go, utility belt snapped and ready for action. Hope made sure before she left to prepare for the worst, which she stored in the belt. Just the usual gear, zip ties, Leathermann, et cetera... plus her smokes, device chargers, trail mix and a Red Bull. With all her stuff strapped up and read to go, she threw her empty backpack on top of the doorway to the roof so no one would mess with it, slung her ghetto melee weapon over her shoulder, and pulled out her phone. Time to kick it.
"Hello?"
"You ready to rock? I know I am," Wisp stated confidently. She began to pinwheel her arms and hop on her toes, with other exercises to get her warmed up. Sure, the night didn't promise much in the ways of ass-kicking, but as long as she got what she wanted it was gonna be a good one.
"Okay, so here's what we know so far..." Seeds began. Wisp was prepared to be bored to death from his explanations, but whatever. Part of the job. She much preferred the action and left him to the thinking, but a little thinking never hurt anyone. At least to her knowledge... that would be something to Google for later.
"There was both an armored car and Wentworth Bank robbed today, the armored car obviously belonging to the bank. The armored car was hit second, the bank was hit first. What does that tell you?" Wisp thought for a second or two, long enough to prompt Seeder. "Wisp? You there?"
"C'mon, Seeds! I just woke up, throw me a bone or somethin'" she moaned.
"It means that one was a distraction for the other. They wanted all the cops at the bank so that the armored car robber could get away scott-free."
"But then why were there two of them at the bank? They'd only need one as the distraction, right?"
"Survivability, possibly? Didn't want the loner at the bank to get killed." Wisp wrinkled her nose.
"I don't think so. What if there were two things to steal?"
"Then it would have been best to divert all resources to one site, probably the car. Both entities got away, remember?"
"Ehh..." Wisp droned. She hadn't paid attention to all of the information Seeds was trying to shove up her nostril and into her brain.
"*Sigh*... Yes, Wisp. Both of them got away. I'll go over that later."
"Sleeping, remember? Wait, what if it was one thing, but two different people wanted it?"
"Hmm... You may be on to something, there. We'll have to look into it."
"Okay level 90 nerd lord, what else?"

"Well, the security detail was enhanced at both sites, and they weren't cops. Six at each location, one with a special guest."
"Oh?" Wisp mused. Things were starting to get a little more interesting. Sounded like fun stuff for her to do.
"Yes, they were decked out in tactical gear, and the recorded gunfire was automatic, not something like pistols like the cops use. Also, the police responded to a call at the bank instead of reacting to police radio. It means that-"
"They were private security. Sounds juicy. Who's our special guest?"
"Did you watch even half of the videos I sent you?" Seeder huffed.
"Uh, sleeping. Remember? Some people don't steal identities for a living and have, like, a normal work schedule?"
"How do you know what I do for a living? Didn't think I ever told you."
"You did right now, smart guy!" Wisp laughed, "Okay, so who's behind door number one?"
"If you happened to actually watch any of the videos I sent you, one of the security party on the armored car calls himself 'The Executioner'. He's-"
"A walking tank covered in guns, grenades, and enough bullets to fuel the city of Juarez for a month?" Wisp interrupted, "Yeah, I know 'im."
"You two have met?"
"Ha, God no. I have a very active lifestyle that includes things like, y'know, breathing? I'd like to keep enjoying those kinds of things."
"Riiiiiight... So, the robber of the armored car didn't have any casualties. Fit looking dude in a black and red costume. Kinda like Deadpool, but, y'know... not." Wisp growled.
"Rrrrrr, son of a bitch, Jack-o!" she snapped.
"Jack-o?"
"His name's Black Jack, he's a merc. Ran into 'im a couple of times before. One time I had to fight him to a standstill at the art museum on Lafayette. Next time he actually helped me out against Los Caballaros... until he shot Don Juan drug boss in the head before I could take him in. Pfft, shit always gets complicated whenever he's involved."
"So you know them both? Awesome! Saves me from having to make you watch the helicopter news feed. The armored car was damaged in the explosion right before Black Jack and the Executioner split, so it's been taken in for repairs. I've tracked it down to an impound lot off 3rd and Jefferson. Might be some evidence there, and the license plate never showed up on video. If you get me that, we can trace it back to its origin point and found out where the guards piled in."
"Sounds like a plan!"

Wisp smiled underneath her mask as she sauntered over to the edge of her apartment building and looked down. Five floors. Quite a drop for the less talented. She fished her earpiece up through her vest to keep it in place as she spoke to ArchDork of Nerdsalot, securing her phone snugly beneath the trail mix in her belt so it wouldn't fall out. Taking a few steps back, she sprinted to the ledge and jumped. But she did not fall. Wisp simply kept going, straightening her body to streamline herself in the air as she took to flight. She was a relatively new flier, so it was still a thrill rush whenever she shot through the sky. It was exactly like skydiving... only with no parachute and over building tops. Something Hope could definitely get used to. She kept low to the building tops to avoid being seen from the streets and partly to better master moving up and down suddenly with better ease. It wasn't long before she reached 3rd and Jefferson, maybe just under twenty minutes, but she was pulling maybe 120 back there. Perching herself on a nearby rooftop, her eyes scanned the area through her goggles. The impound lot was easy enough to pick out, but she was looking for the armored car within. And any cameras that would happen to be around. Didn't want to show up on anyone's TV, now would we. She managed to spot two of them: one on one of the street lamps, and one on the building within the compound.
"Seeds, two cameras, got some kind of techie fix for this?" Wisp asked. She kind of hoped not, her method would be much more fun anyway.
"No, I've tried. If you're seeing cameras, it's CCTV. I can't hack those."
"CC what now? I thought you were a Master Haxor or some shit?" Wisp taunted with a deeper voice on Seeds made-up title.
"CCTV means Closed Circuit Television. It's a recording, Wisp, I can't hack someone's cameras if they're not going anywhere. Do you even know how hacking works?" came Seeder's irritated reply.
"Don't feed the trolls, Seeds. Spray paint it is." As Wisp prepared to vault from the rooftop straight to the lamp in the parking lot, Seeder interrupted her.
"Wait! If you spray over the cameras, someone will know it was you. Who else can get up that high? Don't know about a security system, but the records are showing no employment for anyone in a guard position. Break in, find the CCTV terminal, and take the recording."
"Ugh. Fine. I'll break into the stupid building."

Wisp leaped from her two story perch and overtop the ten foot high fence with ease. Razorwire might stop someone from climbing over, but it didn't stop anyone from skydiving into their parking lot. Wisp landed softly and marched over to the building. Simple wooden door. Piece of cake. Pulling her tire iron from her back, she gripped it with both hands and sent it into an arc, increasing the weight on it and smashing it into the doorknob. The metal knob hit the concrete step with a few violent clinks as it bounced around and the door lazily swung open. Wisp produced her flashlight from her built and clicked it once, lighting up the dark interior.
"Alright Seeds, what am I lookin' for?" she asked quietly. No one was there, but it was a force of habit.
"Something with monitors, DVD player hooked up to it. Start turning on TVs, when you see footage of the impound lot, you've got the right one." Wisp skulked around the building, opening doors and turning on TVs. From her third room and second monitor, she could see a picture-in-picture broadcast of the lot.
"Bingo," she whispered. There was a DVD player hooked up to it, with the recording light flashing. With a press of a button, the machine spat out the disc for Wisp to pocket.
"You got the disc?"
"Yeah, no problem."
"Good, now let's see that license plate."
Wisp waltzed out into the impound lot uncontested. The armored car was simple enough to spot. It was both the largest thing there and the only one that looked like it was hit by a fucking mortar shell. All of its tires were shredded, the grill was mashed in, windshield cracked. Explosion sure did a number on it. Wisp grabbed her camera and started taking pictures: of the exterior damage, Wentworth Bank markings on the side, tire damage, and license plate. The front one was shredded, but the back one was completely fine.
"Bomb went off in front of the truck, huh?" Wisp commented.
"Yeah, the Executioner took a hit from it, but footage shows that he simply lumbered away."
"Now do you know why I don't want to fuck with him?"
"Hey, is the dash cam still intact?" Seeds ignored. Wisp opened the side door. No interior damage. Bulletproof windshield must've done its job. She noticed the digital camera on the front and pocketed that one as well.
"Yeah, I'll let you pull whatever off of it when I'm done her. I'm gonna check in the back really quick." Wisp threw open the back doors and took a few photos as well. Nothing. As expected. But it was better to be safe than sorry. She pulled her phone out of her belt and connected it up to her camera with the charging cable.
"Sendin' you the photos of the truck first," she announced as the pictures began to show up in her gallery.
"Alright. How about the camera?"
"Hold on a second, this takes time." After sending him the pictures she'd taken of the armored car, she linked up her phone to the camera and started pulling the video on to it, only to send it to him afterward. The entire process took about six minutes, but it felt a lot longer than that. Wisp used this opportunity to pull her neck gaiter down and light up a cigarette.

"Talk to me, Seeds. What've we got?" Wisp inquired, crushing her finished cig out underneath her shoe. Twenty minutes later, still no cops. Guess there wasn't a security system after all. Why would there be? It was just a ratty parking lot, and it already had razorwire fences around it.
"Sorry about that. Had to trace the video back to where the car took off from and had some Paladin trouble."
"What's Paladin?" Wisp asked, expecting some kind of high-tech answer she probably shouldn't have asked the question to.
"A Paladin's a holy warrior of the gods bent on smiting evil. They've got really high defense and-"
"I'm investigating two robberies and multiple murders, breaking into buildings no less, and you're playing fucking World of Warcraft!?" she screeched into the phone.
"I told you I had a raid toni-"
"Get the fuck of your videogame and give me my goddamn sitrep, Seeds! Lives could be on the line you dumb fuck! Jesus fucking Christ!"
"Okay, okay! Geez... poured through the video, here's what I got. The tires were popped before they ran into Black Jack, so he must've known they were coming beforehand. And with morning traffic, he couldn't have set up the trap more than ten or fifteen minutes beforehand."
"Yeah. What else?" Wisp inquired, her tone very aggravated. If it were possible to bitch slap someone through the phone, she'd do it right now.
"After a little bit of driving, they took a left on Duluth Way from 29th, out by the docks. A place called Loche Security is situated there. Private security firm, bad reputation. I didn't think they were still around. I'm sending the coordinates to your phone." Wisp took no hesitation in taking off again, vaulting over the busted up armored car with a handspring and flowing straight into flight.

The docks weren't terribly far, only around ten minutes when Wisp landed on one of the buildings. She checked her phone again. 9:12. Not bad. She'd go check out the bank after this. Hopefully the security would be a little lighter by the time she got there. Her phone had told her that she was about seven or so buildings up from Loche Security. She bounded from rooftop to rooftop as if she was on the moon, sailing over the alleyways gracefully until she found herself on what her phone designated as the right place. Peering over the side, she could see that it wasn't marked. No sign, no building number, no nothing. It looked like all the other crappy buildings around it.
"You sure this is the right place, Seeds?"
"I'm tracking you with GPS, and yeah. That's it. I couldn't get anything on this place, though. They've done a lot of record hiding, everything's probably local. See if you can get me some documents or a hard drive, would you?"
"With pleasure," Wisp retorted as she stepped off the building, floating to the ground below. She was going to take some more pictures. If they didn't have anything to do with her investigation, she'd always be able to taunt the police with them. If all else failed, at least Reddit would love them. After walking across the empty street and pulling out her camera to snap a few pics, Seeder spoke up in her ear.
"Shit! Motherfucker!" he exclaimed.
"What?" Wisp hushed, concerned. She kept her eyes peeled for any threats as she backed out of the clearly lit street.
"Fucking Death Knights! So OP! Why don't you try a real class for a change?!"
"Seeds, I am gonna fucking strangle you if you don't turn off that damn game and start hacking bank records or finding me more videos... or... or fucking something! God! It's like I'm working with a fucking preteen!"
"Hey, Wisp. ...Wanna see my Yugi-oh cards?" Seeder taunted.
"UURGH!! It's like you're fucking five!" she growled, only to be met by his laughter. "If you're not gonna help me, then shut the fuck up and let me focus. I've got real people to save." Wisp lifted off the ground with a powerful jump, landing on top of the roof of Loche Security once more. No roof entry. Okay, she could deal with that. She worked her way to the back of the building, facing the docks and walked down the wall. One of the windows had to be open. As luck would have it, the first one she tried was unlocked. Made sense, who would lock a window three stories off the ground? She clambered into the office, dimly lit by the light of the moon, and took out her flashlight.

Michael

"What?" said Mikey with a bit of incredulity, ignoring the flash drive, "I'm pretty sure we're already one of the most wanted criminals in the nation, considering we robbed a big bank with just two people, made off with a ton of cash, killed and maimed guards that stopped us, and used our powers openly. We might not have gotten away if I hadn't have distracted that damn waterbending monk. I did what was necessary. You did exactly the same thing Sir Vault Tosser."

"As for that thing," he said, pointing at the flash drive, "Who the hell cares what's on it. They've probably got it encrypted or passcoded or something, and even if they didn't, what's it worth to us?" Still, Pheonix picked it up and placed it inside his gi, "I'm going to finish this job so we can get our money, and patch my wounds up as well." He walked back into the gloom of the tunnels, his voice echoing through them, "You do whatever you need to do, Mr. Pacifist. Maybe get some of that shit sold or something."

It was already quite dark by the time Pheonix found himself walking along the abandoned streets of the docks. You knew the place was run-down when hardly even any drug dealers or thugs patrolled the street, let alone hookers. In fact, Mikey found himself a little put-off by the incredible isolation and silence as he walked, pulling down his mask and lighting up a joint. He seriously doubted he'd encounter anyone dangerous or that could identify in such an empty area.

Pheonix paused for a moment at a dimly-lit street corner, the light long since broken, and took a long drag as he looked down the other streets. The black-clothed man exhaled a pungent cloud of smoke and leaned against the beaten bricks of what must have once been a warehouse, "We really need to get some wheels... This walking shit is getting annoying." The drop-off wasn't too far away, their employer liked their secrecy, but Mikey wasn't in much of a rush. It would probably be a few more hours before they showed up anyway, and Mikey wasn't particularly patient.

Still, he remained leaning against that dilapidated old building, his joint slowly burning away as he inhaled the famous plant. The weed wasn't very strong but Mikey didn't give a shit, he just needed something to get the edge off. The bank had stressed and worn him out, not to mention his brother then proceeding to give him shit about making sure they escaped, I didn't want to kill or maim those people. That fucking monk forced me to, and besides, he stopped most of the damage anyway. What the hell is with Finn? I don't remember him being such a pussy. We were robbing a bank, not going to Disneyland.

Pheonix took another hit, "He never did want to run with me and the gang. I wonder what the guys are up to..." Mikey's wonder was interrupted by a shadowy figure floating onto a street not too far from him, Huh? Another 'superhero'? Is this one after us too? The ninja stayed glued to the wall, casually watching the stranger from the shadows, hiding the ember of his still-lit joint on the other side of the bricks. The figure had something out, a phone maybe, or a camera. As they once more disappeared into the gloom, Mikey thought to himself, If they're after us... I need to do something... But why check that building out?

He mulled it over for a few minutes before his curiosity got the best of him. Their employers wanted their prize at midnight, so Mikey reasoned that he had plenty of time as he walked over to the building's front, They didn't enter the front... So maybe they went in the back? Circling the building, Pheonix spotted a third story window that had been carelessly left open, Really? Maybe... That's it!

A few minutes later and Pheonix had scrambled onto the roof using a fire escape. He walked over the ledge right over the open window and looked down, Good thing I'm not afraid of heights... Mikey took another drag on the joint, tossing away the tiny bit that was left as he exhaled and pulled his mask back up, Time to find out who this is and if they're trying to fuck with the Regel brothers. The ninja went over the side quietly, climbing down onto the window sill and into the room, determined to hunt down this unknown man, deciding he'd announce his presence with a cocky, "'Sup," if the figure was still in the room.

Malcolm

A sewer cover popped off in a dim alleyway, an enormous beast barely fitting through the opening before sliding the metal back into place. It was night already but there were still quite a few denizens walking the sidewalks just outside the alley as Malcolm collected himself and went over the plan in his head. Sure that it would work, he stomped out onto the sidewalks, causing dozens of people to stop dead in their tracks and watch, awestruck, as this armed and armored man just casually walked past them and into a comic book store.

The cashier, an incredibly skinny white dude with bloodshot eyes, stared at the walking tank who was standing at his counter. A few moments went past with just the two of them looking at each other as some of the customers started to notice the Executioner, most of them continuing on about their business. Finally the stoner laughed, "Dude, nice costume! You look just like The Executioner from Youtube!"

"Youtube? What the fu- You know what, fuck it, I'm doing this the easy way." Malcolm ripped one of his desert eagles from its holster and fired into the roof, causing everyone to panic and drop to the floor or take cover, "Listen up you sexless geeks! I need one of you with a computer or laptop to look at a flash drive! Now! If one of you doesn't come forward within the next five seconds I'm going to waste this pothead!!" He pointed the beefy pistol directly at the cowering cashier, "Five...!"

A fat bastard with a serious case of acne and an affliction of neckbeard quickly came forward with his laptop, "Okay! Okay! I'll do it! Just hand it to me, I'll look!" Malcolm gave the drive to the man, who plugged it into the machine as it rested on a shelf. A series of black screens came up along with a bunch of code that made zero sense to Malcolm, but the geek quickly pulled up a screen that said, "Phase One." A list of locations followed, detailed as being labs and research facilities, each one marked as being owned by either The Tower or Carver Industries.

A flashing "Error: Source Code Two Required" was at the bottom of the list, causing Malcolm to point at it, "What the hell does that mean?" The neckbeard answered as well as he could, "It's missing the rest of the code. There's a second program that communicates with this one, I guess."

"A second program..." Malcolm muttered to himself as the TV in the store caught his attention, the anchor talking on it, "...The police have stated that the bank and armored car robberies that occurred today were completely unrelated..." His eyes narrowed inside his helmet as his brain quickly drew the connection, "Huh... So I have this one... And whoever hit the bank must have the other one..."

The fat ass suddenly piped up, "There's something else here, it's called 'Phase Two' but it's asking for a password." Malcolm looked down at the screen, and sure enough, the neckbeard was right, "So crack it or hack it or do whatever the fuck it is you computer geeks do."

A few moments passed before the nerd nervously said, "Uh... I'm not a hacker... but I've got a friend who I think knows one, says the guildie calls himself one of the best." Malcolm put the desert eagle against the fat man's forehead, "Then you call your friend and get that hacker's number, and you put me on the phone with him right the fuck now."

Elizabeth

Officer Collins woke up with a splitting headache on the floor of the bank, her clothing completely soaked, and a bit of ice on her forehead. The robbers were long gone, as were the civilians, as Police Chief Roberts stood over her. The black man was a bruiser, yet strangely approachable, "Enjoying yourself, Officer Collins?"

"If you call getting knocked the fuck out enjoyable, yes," Elizabeth groaned as she sat up slowly, the ice sliding off her forehead. Whoever placed it there was also long gone. Her mind instinctively told her it had to have been that cocky ass monk, yet another masked vigilante fucking things up for the police. As she got to her feet, Collins took a look around the drenched, desolated bank. It seriously looked like a war zone. Anger welled up in her again at the thought of that damn monk, ruining part of her plan.

She looked over at the dead bodies of the guards, as various police officers and detectives were combing the bank for evidence. Only, if there had been any, it had literally been washed away by the vigilante. Elizabeth remembered seeing blood from what must've been bullet wounds on that crazed ninja, but she knew it had washed away because of the sprinklers and the monk's waterworks. She had seen both of their blue eyes, one with light blue, the other with dark blue, and that the skin they showed was clearly white, but eye color, race, and approximate height didn't really narrow things down.

Officer Collins sighed as she unsteadily walked over to the bank tellers' counters, looking for the glass she'd hit the metalbender with. The fucking monk had ruined her blood evidence from the firebender, but maybe her glass idea worked. Roberts walked next to her, watching her closely, "What the fuck happened here, Collins?"

"You already know what happened, sir. I did my best, saved what lives I could, and slowed them down. Unfortunately a vigilante showed up, which you've probably already seen from the bank's cameras. He didn't exactly help things..." She leaned against the counters and looked at all the glass, Good, still here, not fucking ruined by water either. There has to be some kind of blood evidence on at least one of these shards...

"Actually, this mysterious duo managed to knock out the cameras somehow. There was also another robbery that happened at almost the exact same time as this one, of an armored car." Roberts looked at the glass, wondering why Collins was staring so intently at it. Her eyes searched the counter like a hawk, trying to spot at least a bit of blood, "Really? Knocked the cameras out? And another robbery? Interesting... Was this one a diversion for the truck?"

The Chief rubbed his prickly chin, "I don't know. Video from the internet and from nearby stores of the truck robbery show just one man attacking it, defeating five guards, and then talking with what we think was The Executioner."

The shards of glass suddenly started hovering as Elizabeth tightened her grip on the counter, "What? Why would that man be guarding an armored truck? Is he a mercenary now?" She motioned for one of the forensics specialists to come over to her. "Hell if I know, Collins. There's just too much we don't know. This is all starting to get completely out of hand, and my gut is telling me it's going to get much worse." Roberts plucked one of the shards out of the air, examining it closely, swearing he could see a few dabs of dried blood as the forensics specialist came over. He placed the shard into the man's evidence bag as Collins pointed a few more shards out to put into evidence, "Sometimes I underestimate how brilliant you are, Elizabeth. Hopefully you and the other detectives can get something out of this hellhole."

Collins blushed for a moment before quickly getting a hold of herself, "Oh, uh, thank you, sir... Maybe I should be made a detective then? You know, have a job, title, and pay befitting my responsibilities..." Chief Roberts sighed as they started walking towards the entrance of the bank, glass cracking under their feet, "The Mayor doesn't want you in a position of power, you know that. I don't think he trusts you, he might believe you'll turn against us. As far as we know, every other Super is a criminal, a rogue, or a vigilante."

"I know, sir, I still don't understand what his problem is," complained Elizabeth. The Mayor had been the major person standing in the way of her gaining more official power, not to mention a raging hard-on for demanding that all these rogue Supers be brought to justice. Perhaps such a powerful man was worried that superpowered people would overtake him. Elizabeth had a myriad of ideas about how to gain control of the city, but most of them required her openly leading an Anti-Super Taskforce.

"Neither do I." They stopped in the entrance of the bank, "Look, I've got to get back to the office and deal with paperwork and even more reporters. I've told the press these two incidents are unrelated but my gut is saying they are. I'm giving you express permission to do anything you need to do to figure this out." He raised his eyebrows at her and squeezed her shoulder as he whispered, "Anything. Meaning you don't fucking tell me if it's not something we need to put on the books. You find these bastards and bring them in." Elizabeth nodded in understanding as the Chief walked to his car.

She looked back into the bank and quickly came to the conclusion there was nothing left to obtain from the crime scene. The only real bit of evidence would probably be the glass shards if they came up positive for any blood, and whatever recordings the police could find of the duo made by bystanders. Which still left Elizabeth high and dry when it came to knowing who the hell these two were.

Elizabeth went back to the precinct and to the office she'd been given to work out what the hell was going on. She spent hours there staring at the wall, looking over what evidence they had, until she was sitting on her desk and noticed night had fallen. Collins returned her attention to the wall, with its various tacks, photos, and lines of string connecting them, "Two robberies, done at the same time... Video of the truck robbery shows a briefcase... And I do remember the metalbender clutching one safety deposit box in particular... Although the briefcase does explode... But the Executioner probably rigged it do so on purpose, that's just his style..."

The police officer interlocked her fingers behind her head, "So what's the connection? The truck was clearly for the briefcase, and whatever had been in it. If the Executioner rigged it to explode, then he probably still has the contents on him. And since the mystery duo escaped, they made off with whatever they took too. But the truck was attacked, and the attacker failed to take the briefcase, so whoever wanted the contents failed... Unless it's two opposing factions..."

"Damn it!" raged Elizabeth, telekinetically shattering a coffee mug against the wall, "There's too many possibilities. I need to find this..." Her mind tugged on murky memories, "Pheonix and his accomplice, or the Executioner." Collins sighed and continued staring at the wall, trying to tease out something she was missing...

Night was quickly approaching and Troy found himself back in Heaven, the bar, not the afterlife. He sat at a small table near the men’s room with Papo and like most nights, they were the only two there. Troy was back in his civilian clothes, sitting backwards in a wooden chair, his arms folded atop the back as he continued his conversation with Papo.

‘So let me get this straight, you didn’t get the briefcase? That’s not like you...’ Papo stated while taking a sip of his drink.

“Well it’s not really my fault, the briefcase exploded so there was nothing left to get…” He responded pensively.

‘You think someone set us up?’ Papo asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe? But there was something definitely kinda weird about this job.” Troy responded.

‘What do you mean?’ Papo asked with a cocked brow.

“For starters, the mark seemed to have been expecting me. They had their own guy there guarding the briefcase and from the looks of him, he could’ve snapped me in two if he got his hands on me. But then why go through the trouble of arranging for an armored transport, with armed guards and a paid mercenary in a soup can, just to have the briefcase be rigged with explosives? That Campbell’s Soup guy they paid had the briefcase in his possession while I was busy taking out the guards. I bet he took whatever was in there and rigged the briefcase to explode, especially since he refused to open it when I asked him too... but was more than happy to hand it over for me to do it.”

‘And then there’s what happened at the bank this morning…’ Papo added.

“What?” Troy asked trying not to sound so confused.

‘I thought it was a coincidence but after hearing your little conspiracy theory, maybe it’s somehow related?’ Papo said cryptically.

“Uh…what the hell are you talking about?” Troy asked, finally showing his ignorance.

Papo exhaled. ‘Two supers robbed a bank this morning at the exact same time you were supposed to retrieve that briefcase…it’s been all over the news…hold on…’ Grabbing the remote he turned on the TV behind Troy and flipped through several channels before landing on one of the local news channels and adjusting the volume. A well dressed middle aged woman in a red suit and blonde bun was already delivering the story, while video clips took over the screen and her voice explained what had happened.

{...o’clock this morning, two supers robbed Wentworth Bank. Although the robbers were met with resistance, the two managed to escape with at least $100,000 in cash and jewelry and cost nearly as much in damages. This amateur video taken by an onlooker shows the two criminals fleeing the scene and according to witnesses, the one on the right was responsible for the brutal murders of 5 guards on duty at the time. Both the Mayor and the Police Commissioner are expected to make a statement later tonight. In a seemingly unrelated incident, Elm Street was rocked by an explosion today. Apparently the explosion came after an altercation between two men who are believed to be supers and involving an armored vehicle. Several men riding in that vehicle were left severely injured but we’re glad to report that miraculously there were no fatalities. A witness who was nearby gave a description of the two men and while one remains unidentified, the other is believed to be the super who calls himself The Executioner. In other news…}

“So The Executioner huh…where have I heard that name before?” Troy asked while tapping his jaw.

‘Damn! Don’t you watch the news? You heard about the maniac who busted into that prison and slaughtered all those people? Yeah, it was that guy.’

“Well he just sounds like a bucket of Sunshine.” Troy teased before standing from the table and started walking towards the door.

‘Wait, where are you going?’ Papo asked.

“To find out more about what happened today.” Troy said buoyantly.

‘Curiosity killed the cat Troy…’ Papo warned.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure I still have about six or seven lives left…ciao!”

By now darkness had settled over the city, making it much easier to get around unnoticed. Black Jack changed back into his costume but he wasn’t sure where to begin his investigation. He didn’t have the intel that others had access to, so he had to rely on his own sleuthing abilities and of course a bit of luck. Remembering the bank robbery from this morning, he thought that might be a good place to start.

From his hiding spot in a series of nearby alleys, he could still see the media and police presence surrounding the bank, which meant snooping around inside was out of the question; however that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to be found nearby. While scouting around the area, he kept his eyes peeled for any clues or information that might link him to the robbers or anything of significance really. Other than a bunch of trash and stuff he’d rather not touch, even with his gloves on, there didn’t seem to be anything of interest lying around. As he searched, he caught the report of a journalist nearby. If he didn’t find anything in the alley, maybe the news could shed a little more light on what happened and potentially point him in the right direction.

-Finn-
-Scrap Yard Base-

The brief argument with his younger brother had left Finn tense and swimming in his own thoughts, pacing in the dimly lit, damp series of tunnels. When the feeling that he was going to turn into the Phantom of the Opera grew in the back of his mind, he decided to get some air to clear his thoughts. Entering the section of reinforced caves he had designated at his living space, Finn went through the dozen suits and chose a gray tweed suit with a plaid shirt and black tie; he grabbed a spare black ski mask just to be safe. The super uniform smelled like a camp fire in a gym and was entirely unacceptable- they needed to invest in a washing machine for their lair.

'Our lair.' Finn thought to himself five minutes later, walking down a deserted alley in the dark.

Never before, would he would have believed that concept would have crossed his mind. A lair with his brother beneath the city? It was quickly becoming a reality that needed to be reinforced and cemented into the world. Now that they were wanted criminals, they needed to make whatever home they had more secure from the outside world. Where was he supposed to find super secret contractors? Police-proof security systems? The Regels had the cash to burn, but nowhere to spend it.

Switching mindsets, Finn walked down a more populated city street, looking for something to do with the two hundred dollars he had taken from their heist. He was glad that he had let his brother go before their fight had become something bigger, but he didn't want him to meet the Architect on his own. Of course, Mikey could handle himself in a double-cross, he just hoped it didn't come to that. Passing an electronics store with the news playing replay footage of both robberies, the short man stopped to observe from an outside point of view. It was horrifying. Trying to ignore the growing nerves in the pit of his stomach, he ducked into an alley behind a bakery close for the day.

Pulse still wanted to find out what was on that flash drive- he had expected 706 to be a crate full of gold bars or priceless paintings, not a single flash drive. Deciding that retracing the day would prove the most information, he slipped the ski mask on and walked to the dead end of the alley. The afternoon and evening to rest his powers was a welcome relief and made gliding just low enough between the buildings a breeze to accomplish. Compared to earlier that morning, he felt confident as he wove in and out of the closely knit structures, sticking to the shadows to keep from being seen.

Moments later, he landed on the hardware store's roof across the street from the bank. The cops were clearing out as it became later and the news was wrapping up on the corner below Finn. He recognized the reporter as Vivian Verde, a field associate for The Eye. She was an extremely attractive Hispanic reporter that often opted to go for the more dangerous scoop for the benefit of the city. Finn always appreciated her reports and listened as she finished up.

"-though by now there are speculations that all of these supers are somehow involved with one another. It's hard to deny with the simultaneous robberies by super powered individuals. I'm Vivian Verde, helping to keep and eye on the streets. Back to you." Vivian said confidently into the camera, signing off in the standard fashion.

Finn watched the reporter and her overweight cameraman pack up their van and head out, the remaining civilian onlookers dispersing and going about their business. Walking from one end of the rooftop to the other, he searched for a better way into the bank other than the boarded up windows they had escaped through. Looking down into the alley that Michael and Finn had met in before the heist, he noticed someone crouched, hiding on one of the fire escapes. He instantly recognized it as the costume from one of the guys during the armored car robbery.

"Hey man, I come in peace." Finn said, repelling down and landed with the faint sound of warping metal when he landed on the fire escape.

-Eudora Carver-
-The Conference Room-

Perched high above the rest of the city, a gleaming needle in the skyline, Bach's Courante played softly over the surround sound speakers hidden within the walls of the Conference Room. Eudora sat at an oblong frosted glass table with a flawlessly plated meal sat directly in front of her. She wore a long sleeve black lace cocktail dress, even though she didn't have any particular plans to go out and about town. No, she had a very important home appointment.

Two gigantic men dressed in all black walked through the main sliding doors, carrying what appeared to be a limp body between them. They dropped it, crashing loudly to the floor, and removed the black bag that had covered its head. John Bakker was revealed beneath the dark hood, his eyes wide and well-aware, his mouth duct taped closed. The room remained silent, other than the pleasant sound of the orchestra in the background.

"Liver." She finally said. "Just like my mother used to make. Salt. Pepper. Butter. Simple as that."

Eudora's business rival had been left nearly lifeless after a series of strokes over the years; with her obsession with youth, it was almost like sitting with a reminder of her own mortality. Finishing one more bite of her elegantly plated meal, the Godmother laid her gold plated silverware against the plate and folded her hands against her chin in thought. Finally, she nodded and the

"A bag over the head? Tacky."

"I know, call me nostalgic, but I like it." She said. Getting up and stepping away from the glass table and chair as it sank into the floor's retractable framework. The entire room was capable of moving and shifting according to the slightest facial or body recognition programming; to most, it was almost like magic.

"I know this is your building, Carver- I know it's you!" Bakker said, spitting his words at her. "You don't own all the police, I'll have you locked up and ruined."

Eudora didn't speak. She began to move her pointer finger like a conductor and the surround sound corresponded by turning up the classical music slightly. She descended from the five-tier elevated platform that shrank like an accordion with every step she took toward Bakker. Only inches from him, the Godmother crouched down in her heels and cupped the back of his head with her perfectly manicured hand.

"I have something to tell you, wheels." She said calmly, happiness in her tone. "After all the sick days and reclusive research lately, it was fairly easy to do. I spoke with the board this evening . . . you've been proclaimed mentally and physically incapable of continuing to act as reigning CEO. You're out, Johnny. Early retirement. I should be saying 'Congratulations' really, but-"

Bakker spit directly in her face, cutting off Eudora's words as she closed her eyes but didn't jump back or over-react. Wiping her cheek with the back of her sleeve, a sneer played at the corner of her mouth, the warmth and fun draining from her face.

"Carver Industries will begin the hostile take-over of Genetico, and all other corporations therein." She said, her tone dripping with new malice. "I'm gonna sell The Tower- your life's work for scraps and make damn sure you're forgotten by next year. From this moment on, you're Patient Zero."

Without another word, the black bag was shoved over Bakker's head as he was picked up by the two massive body guards; muffled screams mixed with the subtle strings of the orchestra. Eudora held out a hand, instantly a small robotic arm placed a lit cigarette between her fingers, which she took a deep drag from, exhaling in a silvery cloud. Even though there was no one left in the room, she spoke confidently into the night.

"Welcome to Phase Two."

Wisp/Pheonix Collab

All quiet on the Western Front... as was expected. Wisp didn't really count on anyone but a skeleton crew being there for the night. Then again, it was a private security firm. Mother fuckers were probably armed pretty good. Didn't matter, though. You could have as many guns as you wanted, you'd still go down like a sack of hammers if someone beaned you in the back of the head with a hunk of metal. The room she climbed into looked like some kind of board room. Large table in the center, a number of rolling chairs situated around it. Unfortunately, that meant that it was empty. She could already see that by the light of the moon shining through the open window, even without her flashlight. Deciding it was a bit better to work in the dark, Wisp clicked her flashlight off and pulled her goggles and packed them under her face and neck mask. They could glint in low light, and that would give her away. Wouldn't want that, now would we? She didn't know about anyone else out there robbing banks or armored cars, but bullets were still pretty high on her lethality list. One shot, one kill. Game over, man. She took a moment to listen for anyone that could possibly be outside, finding nothing, and contacted her technical support guru.

"So... what's so bad about Loche Security?" she asked, hoping to get a little more info than she currently had. Which was basically nothing. All she knew at this point was that they were shady as fuck and were protecting the armored car.
"They like to hire people with criminal backgrounds," came Seeds's reply, "Not as in they accept applications from ex-cons, but it looks like they actually prefer to take on employees with checkered pasts. Definitely not a good sign if six of them were transporting something in that car. Whatever it is, it's probably not legal. Wisp smiled. It meant that making the Tooth Fairy a couple bucks richer wasn't going to weigh on her conscience.
"Fine by me. I like it when it's all... cut up in black and white like that. It's not a good feeling when you have to kick the piss out of some Joe Schmoe who's just trying to fe-"
"Hold on, Wisp, I've gotta take this," the techie interrupted.
"Wait, what?" she scoffed in disbelief. What the fuck was more important than making up lost ground to put some petty criminal super-thugs away?
"Seeds. Seeds! Did you just fuckin' hang up on me?!" she hissed in harsh whisper, not wanting to be overly loud. She stood up tall and let her arms swing by her side.
"He fuckin' hung up on me..." she said to no one in particular. Moving her head to each side to loosen her neck, she dug into her pouch with her phone and began to play with it.
"Whatever. I'll just find whatever the hell I'm looking for by myself," she soured, selecting a song from Limp Bizkit from her phone's music library. Little spy number, kinda sounded like Mission Impossible. She bopped her head up and down a few times in approval and snuck out of the doorway, looking to the left and right. Nothing but empty hallway. Empty, creepy hallway. So far so good.

Wisp crept down the hallway, keeping low and to the shadows. She couldn't see down the entirety of the hallway, but the window at the end gave her a good point to shoot for. As long as she could, she stayed out of the moonlight, floating down the hallway like a specter. Wisp never checked any of the doors on her way. Go for the baddies first, find the stuff second. It would really suck if she was halfway through taking a computer apart in a sardine tin-sized room and three jagoffs busted in with shotguns. She would periodically take her earpiece out to stop the music so she could listen above it, but heard nothing. She managed to circle her way to the stairwell and vaulted over the protective wall put in place to keep people from falling. She arrived on the ceiling of the second floor, and began to creep along the tiles. Lights. Some of the lights were on with this floor. Lights meant people. People meant she probably should keep her wits about her. Wisp reached inside her satchel, producing her phone and muting the tunes. Shit was about to get real. Low and slow, steady and silent, Wisp moved about the ceiling clinging to the darkness the entire way, skittering across the lit sections.

*Tiksssss...*

The sudden popping sound made her freeze. It was easily recognizable, everyone knew that sound. It was a can of soda being opened. A soft glow could be seen just a few doors down, and she could hear footsteps coming from within. A break room, maybe? Wisp remained as motionless as one of the light fixtures as she pondered her next move, and a smile twinged at her lips. Without a sound, she flipped from the ceiling to the floor below gracefully, and slunk up to one of the doors nearby. She turned the door knob and pulled it open slowly. Just as she thought, the door squealed on its hinges. An almost sick sense of pleasure shot through her as she heard faster moving footsteps. Speed walking. Dumbass was going to check it out, like a good little pit bull should. This was gonna be fun... A man, slightly taller than average, black hair swept back, and some kind of non-descript tactical uniform came marching up to the door to inspect it. Unlike she had initially assumed, he wasn't carrying a rifle or a shotgun or... pretty much anything. He had a belt with a pistol and some other stuff on it. Pulling out his flashlight, Wisp could see the light projected from behind the door. Her heartbeat began to quicken in anticipation. This was it. The Moment of Truth. Poor sap leaned his head into the room to check it out, shining his flashlight inside to see what it could be. And Wisp... Wisp had never moved after she pulled the door open.

Witnessing perfect head-door ratio, her mask nearly couldn't contain her shit-eating grin as she sent a powerful kick into the wooden frame. The door slammed straight into his perfectly-placed melon, nailing him on the edge of the door frame. It slammed so hard she could hear the wood splinter. Guard fell down. Guard stayed down. Dude didn't move again. Chalk one up for Wisp, Slayer of Dumbasses! She unhooked his belt and searched through his pockets, taking everything he could use against her. Pistol, knife, phone, flashlight... everything he had on him. Taking a booted leg, she pulled him into the room, kind of a cleaning closet, looking place, and bound his legs and hands with zip ties. Then she hog-tied him by zip tying his restraints together, putting a shelf between the zip ties and the unfortunate mother fucker for good measure.

A black shadow whipped through the same window that Wisp had entered through and crouched in the dim moonlight. He sighed a bit; the figure wasn't here. Pheonix had wanted to surprise them, but perhaps he'd still have that chance. They were probably still inside, so he opened the office door slowly and crept out into the pitch black hallway, proceeding to hunt down Wisp. Mikey's ears picked up on everything he could hear as he stalked through the darkness. He would find this person soon. Hopefully he hadn't mis- his thought was interrupted by the sound of a slamming door. Surely that was them? The shade picked up its pace towards the noise...

Taking a short moment to admire her work and check over the human ragdoll in case she missed something, the echoing of footsteps came swiftly and sharply. Wisp turned her head towards the stairs and dove toward the floor, sliding along the tile as the world around her spun to tilt the ground beneath her feet. She came to rest below the small wall just before the stair well, and the beam of a torch bounced up and down erratically as another sucker ascended the steps. When he became close, she performed a low backflip over the wall and clung there as his steps slowed and he began to look around.
"Rich? Rich, what happened?" he called out in earnest. Wisp peered over the edge and came to witness a shorter, stockier guy pointing his flashlight in the direction that she just came. Quietly, she clambered over the edge and began to creep up on him, matching her own footsteps to his as he warily scanned the hallway from left to right, looking at all the doors, corners, and windows. Just not the blind spot behind him.
"I swear to God, man, if you're fucking with me again I'm breakin' my foot off in your ass!" he cried out in false bravado. She could tell by his movements that he was scared, he was only trying to fool himself. It almost made her think twice about what she was about to do...

Like a cobra, her hand darted to his pistol lying in his holster, and she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him backward and onto his heels.
"Make one fucking sound and I blow your goddamn head off!" she hissed through her teeth. The other goon cried out a little bit, but kept quiet for the most part.
"Who the fuck is here? Tell me who the fuck else is here!" she demanded in her harsh whisper.
"Rich! I-It's just me an' Rich tonight, I swear!" he gasped with her arm around his throat. His tone was a little louder than she liked, and Wisp showed her disdain by burrowing the barrel of his gun further into his temple.

The shadow crawled along the walls, melding with the darkness as it heard a struggle up ahead. It came to rest not too far, yet still far from any light, as it observed the figure threatening and interrogating a man, Strange... He... No, she? Is it a she? Their voices had been muffled before, but Pheonix decided to wait a few moments longer to pick up the figure's voice to confirm his suspicions.

"Shut the fuck up! I said shut the fuck up!" she growled, causing the cowardly thug to whimper. Pfft, crooks never had that much courage anyway. Asshole probably had this comin'.
"Where can I find the employment records?" she stated a little more calmly. Didn't want to get him riled up too much. He might piss himself, and Wisp happened to like the particular pair of jeans she was wearing.
"W-what are you talking abo- Hurk!" he choked, being cut off as she took a large step backward to put more pressure into her hold. So it was gonna be all carrot and no stick, eh? Okay. Game on.
"Don't you fuckin' play dumb with me! The records! The fucking admin shit of who hires you cocksuckers! Where. The fuck. Is it!" Hope was booming at this point, screeching her demands at the poor sap. She'd hate to fire that pistol, but he might not give her any option.
"It's on the first floor! First floor! It's, uh, it's a left at the front desk, and a right down the second hallway! Room 135! Oh God please don't kill me!" he begged, taking a cue from her own voluming as he shrieked in terror. That was Wisp needed to hear. Casually, she tossed the gun forward in front of him. He looked dumbfounded for a second.
"Wha-" he started, but as soon as the goon opened his mouth, Wisp bent backwards and suplexed him straight into the tile strong enough to make the windows rattle, transitioning into a hand spring. Moaning, he began to pull himself up until he was dragged across the floor by an invisible force... and straight to Wisp. Rearing back, she kicked his head like a soccer ball, spraying blood and a couple teeth across the linoleum.

A snort resonated from the shadows, Pheonix was seriously enjoying this chick's display before frowning under his mask suddenly, Shit, she probably heard... He stepped back around the corner of the hallway, somewhat hoping she hadn't heard. A few moments passed before he stuck his head back out to see how she had reacted, This chick reminds me of some of the old bad ass bitches from the 'hood...

By that time, Wisp had already had the security guard searched and disarmed, and had restrained him just like his mate. Although bound to the handrail on the stairs. She kinda wanted to take a picture of him with his fucked up face to put on Imgur for points, but the moment passed. Walking casually down the other end of the hallway a bit, she opened one of the windows facing the street and threw both men's belts and handguns outside. Whew, what a rush! It was a little sick, but it was the part of the job that Wisp liked best. Not beating the shit out of people, of course, but completely dominating them with flair. Need to work on that suplex, though. Should really only take one hit to drop someone that heavy like an iPhone and watch them shatter.

Pheonix watched her throw the belt and handguns out, thinking to himself, The fuck? Why throw away perfectly good weapons?! Okay, maybe the bitch doesn't have common sense... But still... He grumbled to himself, yet he couldn't help feeling the intense urge to hit on her welling up from his womanizing side. He weighed the options, and decided, to hell with it. The shadow cracked its neck and sauntered towards her, hands resting at his side. As he came into the light, he casually said, "Sup."

Wisp turned her head to see a... a fucking ninja? Really? This city's going to hell in a hand basket. Looked like someone picked up the costume from Walmart or some shit. But then again she really couldn't judge. Her own costume was kind of a hand-me-down bastardization. Looked fuckin' cool, though. She stepped away from the window and pulled her tire iron from the sling on her back, holding it loosely in her hand. This guy was definitely crazy, probably a druggie. Or part of some cult gang like the Latin Kings. Her specialty. But what freaked her out a bit was the fact that he snuck up on her. That shouldn't happen. That should never happen. He could've slit her throat if he wanted to... or worse.

She didn't even want to think about it. Instead, Wisp hid behind a brick wall of sarcasm.
"Holy shell, Raph! It's the Shredder!" she mocked in a bad impersonation of reptilian pop culture icons. She took a few casual steps to the side, squaring off against him and centering herself in the hallway. Bringing the tire iron up to point at him, she issued her challenge.
"I've only got three questions for you. Who the hell are you, where did you come from, and do you seriously want to end up like that guy?" Wisp nodded her head over at Hamburger Face chillin' on the stairwell, but didn't take her eyes off of him. It was bad enough he got the drop on her once, it wasn't going to happen again.

Pheonix seriously liked the balls on this one as he pulled his mask down, revealing an enormous pearly white grin. He rummaged around in his gi for a moment, pulling out another joint. Still grinning ear to ear, he brought the joint up to his mouth, though holding it slightly in front as he said, "You know, you shouldn't play with fire..." Pheonix brought a finger up to the end of the joint, lighting a tiny hovering fire at the end. It quickly got the end glowing as the ridiculous ninja took a long drag before exhaling another pungent cloud, "I think you know who I am. But you, I don't know who you are..." He poked the joint at her and took another drag, waiting to see how she'd respond.

Ugh. Fucking druggies, druggies fucking everywhere. She went to high school. Dank was a very distinct type of smell you don't forget. But that irked her, brought her on her guard. No more play time. He was a super. She grimaced beneath her face mask. Shit, shit, shit! Now she wished she'd payed attention to Seeds when he sent all that stupid police record garbage. Whoever he was, he thought he was some kind of big deal. And she sure as hell wasn't going to expose herself by calling him. 40-year old virgin probably wouldn't pick up anyway. Goddamnit! Fucking nerd videogames! If they never killed anyone before, they might just now.

She could almost imagine the news report. A local superhero was murdered late last night while her backup was playing fucking World of Warcraft! She shifted her stance, turning her body sideways against him. The classic confrontation stance, one easiest to move in. She could probably jump back or over him pretty quickly if she had to, but she hoped to God that it didn't come to that.
"Are you stupid, or just really high right now?" she accused, keeping up her front. She wasn't ready to fight another super yet, not until she could get the upper hand. A long hallway didn't spell good things for Wisp.
"Wisp? Didn't find any Double-U's spray-painted anywhere? Don't you watch the news or something? And I don't know how awesome you think you are, I think I'd remember Green Ninja, or whoever the fuck you are."

Pheonix smiled again at her accusations. This 'Wisp' had some serious cajones. He took another long drag, grinning the entire time before exhaling and once more thrusting his joint at her, "A little of both, I'm told. And no, I don't know of any 'Wisp,' but now I do..." Mikey took another drag, biding his time as he thought and considered the situation. She didn't know him. She wasn't after them. He didn't need to be fucking around with her, and could probably leave now. But it was too damn funny. He blew the smoke out of his nose, declaring, "I'm Pheonix. Guess you haven't heard of me... Surprising, considering I make the news. You though, I like you. You're interesting in a stone cold fox kind of way..." He casually brought the joint back to his mouth, most of it had burned up by now, but he wasn't one to waste them. Once more he exhaled, "So. Why are you here, Foxy? You're not after us... So what is it?"

Wisp could feel her heart sink into her shoes. So he controls fire and makes the news? She had the funny feeling that he might've been involved in the Wentworth Bank heist, especially seeing as paranoid as he was and how he said 'us'. But even though she was pretty damn sure, she still couldn't ask Seeds for a match. For the first time in a long time, Wisp was frightened. If he was one of the bank robbers, she needed to do something, or at least get a picture. She wouldn't get another chance like this. And, of course, she couldn't. He would slaughter her. If the 'Pheonix' could do things with fire, her ass was toast in this narrow hallway. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. The only options she had were running... or staying where she was and talking him down. Then again, Wisp was good that way. She knew how to pull most people's strings to get what she wanted.
"None of your business..." she stated. Just that. Not a challenge, no weakness in her tone. A fact. Reaching with one hand into her neck gaiter, she pulled her goggles onto her face, leaning head back and down again.
"Revenge," she said after that. It wasn't technically a lie, but it sure as hell wasn't the truth. She was getting revenge for the city against maniacs like this. Hopefully the gung ho Foot Clan wannabe would buy her line of bullshit.

He smiled again at her defense, and took a moment to look at the guards. Another drag, "So. Revenge. I'm pretty sure revenge makes people kill... Not maim..." His joint was almost finished as he eyed her closely, his own eyes narrowing, "Hmm..." Pheonix stared at her for a few moments as he finished the joint and tossed it away, pulling his mask back up.
"He got in my way..." she conceded, her voice smooth and calm as she spun her lie. "My dad got arrested for drunk driving a couple weeks ago. And a couple weeks ago, a psychopath walked through the police station and decided everyone in the cells were in season, and shot the place up. They didn't do anything, but I'm gonna kill the motherfucker that did." Good enough, but a bluff wasn't worth the air used to make the words without betting some chips. She tilted her head a little at him as she spoke as calmly and smoothly as she had before.
"Are you gonna get in my way...?"

"Seems I already am," he chuckled as he scratched his chin through the mask, "I think I heard of that guy. Him, he's real evil. I just do what needs to be done, see?" His footing shifted subtly as he moved his center of mass, "If you want, Foxy, you might ask my help in killing him. It would be justice for those in the station as well... I do, however, have a request.." He stared at her again for a moment, subconsciously wondering if she was fucking with him. The story was far-fetched to say the least, it would take a number of coincidences to make it happen, but it was possible...

"You can keep your goddamn justice, I get to kill him!" she barked, trying to sound believable with desperation in her tone. Only it didn't come from anger. It came from fear.
"He killed my dad! No one else gets to kill him but me! Now what the hell do you want?!" she shrieked at him, slipping easier into the role as she went along. She gripped her tire iron more tightly, causing it to tilt slightly. If he didn't back down or bow out soon, he might just force her hand. Want to or not, smart decision or not, she'd have to fight him.

Mikey raised his eyebrows and drew back a little, surprised. Was this chick crazy? Well, that's not a legitimate question. How crazy was this chick? His mind reasoned that perhaps she was just very emotional about her loss, which made sense. Pheonix actually felt some empathy for her, "Relax, damn. Are you always this high-strung? Do you really expect to kill him alone??" THAT was something Wisp was looking for, but he kept asking questions. He backed off a bit, but she needed him to back off all the way.
"I don't care! But I have to do it! I won't let someone else do it for me!" The fear crept into her voice this time, she couldn't help it. It was hard not to. Keeping up a facade like that was difficult. Go away, just turn your crazy ass around and walk away...

Fear. He could practically smell it on her suddenly. Why would she be afraid? Was she afraid of him? Mikey looked at her curiously, "Wait. Are you afraid of me? Why are you here, anyway, you never answered me..." His weight shifted again as he felt her emotions rising. Mikey started to seriously worry this woman was unstable. Wisp froze. Damnit, Seeds, why did you have to choose videogames over this...?

"No, I'm not!" she attempted to refute, but her voice cracked. Not a good thing. Her heart began to pound, pulse quicken, forehead sweat. Behind her goggles, she quickly scanned around for options. She didn't have anything to counteract fire. Gravity was useless to her. She could always run for it. The window was always an option, but she still needed to get the records. The stairs were]/i] closer to her than they were to him, and she was pretty sure that she could make it down them faster. A head-on attack would be stupid if she just ran into a wall of fire. The stairs. They were the smart bet.
"I just did! Don't you fucking listen?!" she shouted at him, trying to keep up more false bravado. Although it was probably too late at this point.

Michael truly didn't know what the fuck had crawled up this lady's skirt. Well. Jeans. Part of him could taste her fear now. It was then he realized why Wisp might be losing her shit so much. He had her essentially cornered, and probably unable to use whatever let her hover everywhere in such close quarters. All he would've really had to do to kill or beat her would be to throw fire down the entire hallway.

And this woman honestly believed he was going to do that without her attacking him, "Lady, I don't think [i]you're listening to me. I'm offering to help you, with a guy who probably isn't even here, and you're freaking the fuck out. What the hell do you think I am?" His weight shifted again as he prepared for her to potentially charge him out of pure recklessness, but he wasn't about to let her just run. He wanted to know if she lying. She'd seen his face. She could ID him. Mikey clenched his fists, God damn it... Finn will tear into my ass for that one if he finds out...

That was it. Her lie had failed. She hadn't expected him to dig so deep into it, and it fell apart like a wet newspaper. Nothing she could say at this point. Little she could do at this point would change anything. So she defaulted to what her powers were best used for. She didn't attack him, didn't try to throw him, didn't go for any kind of harm. Wisp decided to run. Her head moved ever-so-slightly towards the stairs before she cut away, breaking into a full-bore sprint to the steps. She leapt over the side, coming to the top of the ceiling on the first floor. Without missing a step, she continued running as fast as she could towards the front desk. Room 135, Room 135... she had to find it before he did! Everything was riding on what she found!

"God damn it you crazy bitch! Why the hell are you running?!" yelled Pheonix. He saw her go to leap over the stairs and assumed she was going down. Dual blades of plasma formed in his hands and he cut through the floor, falling. The ninja braced himself as he landed and spotted her. Immediately, he felt his legs kick into high gear, throwing him forward incredibly quickly. He barked out an order, "STOP! Don't make me hurt you!" Mikey concentrated his strength and prepared to unleash a flurry of flames that would travel quickly to her through the bottleneck of the hallway, "For fuck's sake, STOP!"

The front desk was in sight, the lobby just out of her reach. The second right down the left hallway... exactly where she was heading. When she heard a high-pitched whine and a collapsing of ceiling tiles, her pulse raced faster, and her legs began to carry her as fast as they would go. And she heard him, just behind her, getting closer, and closer...

NO! THIS WASN'T THE TIME TO GIVE UP!

"You stop!" she shouted back, mentally reaching out to the mammoth, wooden monstrosity that was the front desk. It soared toward her... and past her, sailing toward the fiery ninja as it tumbled across the ground like a giant die. Maybe she wasn't faster after all, but she could sure as hell slow him down! She performed a quick turn as the desk tumbled toward its target, and pressed her gravitational weight down on the flimsy ceiling tiles. The began to rain down, crashing across the ground, creating both a falling and tripping hazard. Let's see him run through that!

Pheonix was surprised that she lifted and threw the front desk with her mind. He hadn't expected that, so he burst into the office to his immediate left. His dual blades disappeared as he thrust both his hands forward, charging into the office walls and simply melting his way through them, their semi-molten blobs flowing over him as he leapt through the holes. To Wisp, he would've likely appeared to have disappeared, but in fact he burst through the final wall into the lobby and sprinted after her once more, having already significantly closed the distance. He roared, "What is wrong with you?!" before throwing a wave of fire at her, bending the sides to try to just cut her off without harming her.

The vigilante of gravity had already shifted around and continued to flee down the hallway when the fire alarms began to blare. The sprinkler heads in front of her burst open in a torrent, dousing the building in a shower of water. If she wasn't in a rush before, she sure as hell was now. City response times for fires were ten minutes give or take, and if the water fried the hard drive she'd really be screwed. But it wasn't just that. If the fire alarms were going off, that meant-
Wisp snapped around from her sprint, letting the momentum carry her at the same speed as she floated along the ceiling when she caught witness of the wall melting and Ryu Hayabusa leaping through. Her eyes widened and her breath held in her lungs for a moment when he sprayed forth a wall of flames at her. She held her arms up in front of her face to protect her, but the embers traveled around her. Before she could stop herself, she felt the intense heat move over her, suffocating her, licking at her skin, searing her hair. She could hear the crackle and whistle of the flames burning the air, walls, and ceiling around her. For nearly a quarter of a second Wisp knew how a Porterhouse must feel as the inferno burned around her. And then it was over. She was sailing through water once more. It offered little comfort in the ways of easing the heat she had felt, and none in what she would no doubt relive several times that night, but the known fact that she was literally out of the frying pan had forced more breath into her lungs.

Wisp vaulted off the ceiling in a hand spring, returning to the floor to continue the chase, nearly slipping and breaking her neck on the slippery floor. Rationality took hold as she saw her turn: the second hallway. And with rationality came ideas. With the infernal assassin dead on her heels, she let herself swing around the corner on an outstretched arm and dove to the floor feet first... and the room slanted before her. Creating a makeshift waterslide out of the wet tile, she shot down the hallway on her back, counting the room numbers as she flew past. Praying that she was faster than he was.

This chick was freaking annoying, fast, and really damn creative. She must manipulate gravity to move stuff including herself, reasoned Pheonix, as he continued charging after her. His attempt to slow her down didn't seem to work particularly well, especially considering it set off the sprinkler alarms. Mikey grumbled and turned up the heat, vaporizing the water that had soaked his clothing as well as wherever he stepped to help try to keep him from slipping.

He flew around the corner after her, surprised to witness the woman using the wet floor like a slip'n'slide, Damn this woman is frustrating! Mikey yelled at her, "It would be nice if you'd turn down the crazy, Wisp! I'm not trying to hurt you, I swear! I just want answers!" The man was still perplexed that she was running like she was. Clearly she was afraid of him, and she might have reason to be so, but it was self-defense killing those guards. He even offered to help her! What the hell did she seriously think he was? A serial killer slash rapist??

Sure, he wasn't trying to hurt her NOW, but she very well couldn't tell him another lie or mix up the one she already did tell him. And if he knew the truth, that would change everything. Crazy or not, Wisp wasn't about to volunteer to be well-done with a side of crinkle cut fries. 131... 133... Wisp thrust her tire iron into the side of the door of Room 135 as she slid down the wet tile. Stopping at that speed wasn't going to be an option at her current speed without going down another couple of rooms or slipping and falling on her face, or even without injuring herself from a sudden stop. She grunted and held onto her makeshift prybar for dear life as she jerked against it, splintering the wood of the door as she came to an abrupt halt. Resetting the orientation of the floor to normal, she scrambled to her feet and flung the door open. She had gotten some distance, but not enough to be safe. Hell, she wasn't going to be safe until she was a couple blocks away from the sociopath. With a couple police lines in between for good measure. She mentally slammed the door behind her, hopefully hard enough to jam it on its moorings and vaulted over the desk. Underneath sat a computer tower, and she began to fumble with the cords connecting it to the monitor, power source, keyboard, and everything else standing in her way of the hard drive. As she tugged at the power supply, it sparked at her in the downpour, and she reflexively dropped it. Not much time left, too much time taken already... Fuck it. Wisp yanked the computer free with a twist of Earth's natural force, sending the hardware crashing into the wall behind her.

Fuck it, this bitch is causing me enough trouble. Time to really scare the shit out of her! She wants a psycho?! She'll get one!! Pheonix slid to a stop as he gripped the door and pulled for a moment, noticing it was jammed. Inside, he heard a crash, wondering what the hell was happening. It didn't matter though, as he slammed his hands against the door, sending a column of flame spouting into the room in an attempt to fill it with fire. He continued burning his way in, stepping through the hole and roaring, "You want to play Psycho Killer?! Alright then!"

Wisp felt very fortunate to already have a face mask as smoke began to billow into the room, somewhat mottled with the water pouring down from the sprinkler heads. She was trapped like a rat in the maze, the cheese just behind her and the cat in the doorway. But it was never a good idea to corner the rat. Cornered rats got violent. With flames licking at the ceiling and walls around the doorway, Wisp kicked the desk in front of her and everything upon it towards him, and charged with her tire iron.

Mikey's face contorted into a devilish grin. She finally summoned up some of those balls from before to fight him. And he liked a good fight. The desk came at him hard, so he braced himself against it, arms crossed in front of his face. Pheonix let himself slide back a bit and then jump into the hallway, the desk slamming against the sides of the door, "Decided to play, did we?!" Wisp responded by sending a fly kick into the desk, shattering and sending chunks of wood towards him. Pheonix responded with a wall of fire and the shifting of his body with his side towards her, letting the bits flow past him.

He stood in the hallway looking at her, taking a moment to breathe in some of the smoke, "Isn't it nice? The smell of fire?" The firebender exhaled a large cloud of smoke and then unleashed two volleys of flames down both ends of the hallway, setting them on fire, "I'm going to get my god damn answers." He summoned his plasma blades in his hands and stared at her, halfway expecting her to charge him again, "If you don't give me what I want, I'll have to cook you alive in that room, Foxy..."

That was game. Match, set. Winner: Scorpion. Wisp had already worked out what she was going to retaliate with as soon as he demanded his answers and made his threat, but it would mean she would lose her information in exchange for her life. It was supposed to be easy, just break in, take a hard drive, get out. Until half the building was burnt down. Now she'd have nothing but the bank, and she really wasn't going to feel like it after this. Well, now was the time to face the music. Wisp calmly walked out from the room, sliding her tire iron behind her back. She looked up to the ninja, Pheonix, looked him dead in the eyes behind her goggles. They reflected flames, wrath, and murder. She was always innovative, that was her specialty. Finding the way that no one else imagined or thought of in advance. She took a step forward and embraced him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Micheal's heavy breathing slowed as she approached, The hell is she doing? Giving up? He was stunned as she wrapped his arms around him, immediately making him lose his concentration, causing his blades of plasma to disappear. The 'cool' gangster felt his heart race even harder than it had been as she just stared at him. He reached up and pulled her goggles up onto her forehead to lock eyes with her, then pulled his own mask down. The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, but he was at a loss for words for once.

His concentration utterly broken, and his focus entirely on her, he failed to notice the sprinklers had stopped raining down on them, how all the fires he made had completely dwindled, or how the walls had become covered with water. Instead, he wrapped his own arms around her. Pheonix hadn't expected such a sudden change, and his confused, distracted mind refused to work properly. The only thing he comprehended was this woman's eyes and her body pressed against his. A far softer voice flowed out of him as he found some of his old 'swagger' at last, "I... Uh... Your eyes are like piercing green jewels, you know that?"

Bright, emerald eyes stared back into Phoenix's, reflecting desperation, fear, uncertainty. But there was a sort of blankness to them, as if she was staring into space, or past him. Wisp was concentrating, and the thug wasn't helping. She felt her own heart skip a beat when he pulled her goggles up, a twinge on her own heart strings that made the task all the more difficult. He was dangerous, but then again Wisp was one to flirt with danger. Just never that literally. The water began to pool on both of them, and she realized what was coming after a moment of being lost in his eyes. Wisp articulately answered his flattery with something of her own.

"Huuuuuuu!" came her breath as she inhaled deeply. The collective of water from the sprinklers and the floor came crashing around them violently in pooling waves as the two tumbled around as if inside a washing machine in the water pocket she had made. It had taken all of her focus, but she managed to pull everything from the hallway to the center, of which being herself and Pheonix. As they swirled and twisted in the water, Wisp let go of him and allowed herself to be thrown from his grasp. She swam in the direction she forced to be 'up', violently kicking and struggling to break her head above the surface. She thrust her hand through the water and managed to plant a hand on the wall, using that and her own manipulation of gravity to wrench herself free of the water and flop onto the floor, gasping for breath, the bubble still behind her. Looking back and clenching her fists as she gave the gigantic water droplet her full attention, she sent it rocketing to the other end of the hallway and into the wall. She could only hope that the force of the water pressure would break the window and send him flying out.

Drowning. It was a terrible sensation, one that Pheonix suddenly found himself enduring. It was ironic that he was now dying from the breathlessness this woman had caused him, something he would no doubt recognize later. But for now, he couldn't think of anything other than being unable to breath. For some reason he kept his grip on Wisp as long as he could, but it too broke when she kicked away from him. Panic set in as he tried to swim around, failing to gather the focus necessary to just surround himself in flames. He'd never been a particularly good swimmer, considering his kind of people generally didn't have pools in their backyards.

Slowly, the world drained away from him as his body involuntarily tried to continue fighting. His lack of breath before being overtaken by the water was his undoing. Pheonix's consciousness slipped away as the bubble was sent crashing down the hallway, jettisoning his body through the window. Glass embedded itself through his clothes and into his skin as his motionless, limp body half-slid, half-rolled across the ground. Had he been awake, he would've felt his skin being torn into by the concrete of the parking lot out back. Finally, the essentially lifeless man came to a rest halfway to the middle of the lot, lying on his back.

She watched in relief as the water washed everything out the window at the other end of the hallway, ninja included. Taking a breath, she hesitantly stood on shaky legs, nearly losing her balance and slipping on the wet floor. Her head began to throb as the pain set in. It was no easy feat to accomplish what she just did, but it worked as her salvation. Clutching her head, she pulled her face mask down to allow herself to breathe through the soaked material. Gasping a few more times, labored breaths to get more air into her lungs after the smoke and water, she attempted to fit her goggles back onto her face, nearly washing her eyes out as they'd been filled with it. She was soaked to the bone, and felt incredibly heavy and tired. Tilting them to empty the water out, she put them back on her face, dealing with the droplets on the lenses. Whether or not it sucked, she couldn't let anyone see her face completely. She took one last look at the window to make sure he wasn't about to charge through or send a fireball after her, she turned and slowly jogged towards the lobby, waterlogged shoes squishing underneath her.

Basically stumbling out the door, opening them under her weight when arms weren't enough, she looked around again. Wisp could swear she could hear sirens in the distance, but wasn't sure who it was, or if she even did. She felt shell-shocked and wasn't all there, and it's not as if she didn't have water in her ears. Beaten, bruised, feeling defeated and half-drowned, Wisp let her body lift itself from the sidewalk in front of the building, soaring over the rooftops straight in front of her, leaving a trail of water behind her as she went.

As Wisp flitted away, Pheonix woke up and rolled onto his side, coughing up at least a few liters of water. He struggled to breath for a few minutes before completely rolling onto his belly and using all four of his limbs to get to his feet. Mikey took in the dimly lit parking lot for a little while longer, listening to the sirens. Doubtless the fire department was on their way, but he didn't care. The man slowly walked back towards the building, haphazardly climbed through the window, and walked through the blackened hallway. The sirens grew louder as he came to the room he'd cornered her in, She turned in here... On purpose... Why?

His eyes caught on a computer, half-shattered against the back wall. Stumbling forward he looked it over and decided to take it with him. It made sense that this was what she wanted, and he wanted to know why. He bent down and struggled to form a tiny beam of plasma, slicing the metal around the hard drive as he didn't have time to carefully remove it. As the fire department and police arrived, he disappeared out the back into the undergrowth of the city, his mind racing.

---

After nearly ten minutes of flight, Wisp came to settle down on an empty rooftop. She lowered herself gently to the gravel, taking a few uneasy steps to the lip where she sat down. She pulled her face mask and goggles down around her neck, and undid the hair clips keeping her hood up, pulling that down as well. She sat motionless and stared into space for a moment before standing up once more, taking the sling from around her shoulders and tossing the tire iron to the ground, along with her soaked hoodie. Face mask, goggles, vest, and utility belt soon followed, and she lowered herself down to the ledge again. Reaching a hand out, the belt skittered towards her with the gravel of the rooftop, where she pulled her phone out. Staring at the blank screen, she held the power button for a second. Two seconds. Three... Nothing. Holding it up, water poured out of her smart phone and onto the roof. Stone-faced, she casually tossed it into the gravel and produce her soaked cigarettes and lighter. Putting a bent, wet cigarette to her lips, she emptily flicked her non-functioning Bic a few times before realizing it wouldn't work. That was what snapped her out of her trance.

"Son of a bitch!" she shrieked, hurling her squishy cigarettes down hard, her lighter soon to follow.
"Son of a... fucking... bitch...!" she began to whimper, her eyes tearing up as she began to cry. She lost the mark, failed her mission, had nearly gotten herself killed and for what? Nothing. No good came out of that. It was supposed to be easy, get in and get out, and now her phone was dead, her camera was probably fried, and her trails had both gone cold. She couldn't even go back to the bank if she wanted to with no gear to document evidence, and Lord knew she already didn't want to. Wisp had had enough. She broke down into tears as she slid to the floor, hugging her knees. Her shoulders heaved as she began to quietly sob. This wasn't supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! She was supposed to find out about the armored car, swing by Wentworth Bank, and take some photos, but that all got shot to Hell because of that... fucking... Wisp didn't even know. She knew what she felt before, and she hated it. She hated him. He ruined everything! If he hadn't have shown up, she could've found out about the Executioner, Black Jack, and might've been able to catch that ninja bastard and his partner by next weekend, but no! He had to show his stupid, stupid face and fuck everything up! She wished she had Seeds to talk to, just to vent and calm her down a little, but she didn't even have that. He'd talk some sense into her, stop her from doing something stupid. God... her phone. She couldn't afford a new camera, a new phone, and rent. And she sure as fuck wasn't going to work tomorrow. Wisp began to shiver, but because of her cold wet clothes or despair, she didn't know.

This post contains Pheonix, then Executioner/Seeder, then Officer Collins at the very end

Pheonix

He couldn't get her out of his head, for more than one reason. As Michael Regel stumbled through an alleyway, maddenly gripping a hastily-extracted hard drive that he had no interest before meeting her, he couldn't stop thinking. This woman who had completely and utterly broken his composure, who had broken him; Pheonix; firebender; bad ass; gangster. And yet, they had tried to kill one another.

Suddenly his legs gave out from underneath him and he collapsed in another alleyway, watching as a few people passed by. The man crawled to sit against an old brick wall, clutching the hard drive against his chest like he had clutched that insane woman, What the fuck is wrong with me. I let that crazy bitch inside my head! That shit doesn't happen to me! He growled and half-considered throwing the piece of hardware across the alley before quickly deciding to keep it. Right now, it was his only possible link to her. He could ask around the gangsters and the ghettos that she might've frequented, yes, but she had wanted this hard drive. She wanted what was on it, and he had it. Perhaps he could bring her to him...

Mikey couldn't shut down his mind. Thoughts raced through it, focused on trying to figure out who the hell this stone cold bad ass of a woman was. He relaxed long enough to gaze down the street and spot a computer repair shop, Yes! They can get the data off this! A light bulb went off in his head, causing him to quickly dig out the flash drive he'd completely forgotten about, and examine it, I think these still work... At least when dry, right? Right? I'm so fucked if it doesn't work now... He had to get the meeting with the Architect. They wanted their prize. Mikey wanted his money. Yet it didn't seem quite so high priority anymore to him as he forced himself to his feet, stumbling towards the repair shop, onlookers casually assuming he was just a crazy ass hobo.

Pheonix burst through the doors of the repair shop, falling onto the floor before regaining his footing and approaching the counter. A middle-aged man looked at him in disbelief, "Are you alright, sir? Can I help you?" Mikey practically slammed down the hard and flash drives onto the counter, "I want you to tell me what's on these, and to put all the data on a separate thing. The flash drive got a little wet too."

The technician took a look at them, "Well, the flash drive is fine, and I probably hook up the hard drive to one of our systems here. The cost-" He was interrupted with a beam of plasma in his face and Pheonix growling, "The price is your life, or the price is free. Understand?" The man's face went even paler than it already was, "Yes, yes, of course. I'll get right on it. It'll take a few minutes. Just hold on. Please, I have a family!" The technician got to work quickly, leaving Pheonix to watch.

Mikey took a few deep breaths, trying to regain some of his balance and energy. His mind went back to that strange moment again, he had her cornered. He'd won. But then she went and completely changed her fucking attitude. She took him completely off guard. She didn't take him off guard, she ripped his guard away with her sulty embrace. Rage flooded through his veins as Pheonix felt his energy return. He ripped one of the monitors off the counter and threw it through the window of the store, causing the technician to jump. The man quickly returned to work as Pheonix sank down against the counter.

A few frightened onlookers quickly rushed by the broken glass, no doubt calling the police soon, but Mikey didn't care. The cops wouldn't respond before he got his information, and he'd just put them down if he ultimately had to. The thought made him grimace. She had been afraid of him because of what he'd done. Afraid that he'd kill her just he killed others. Pheonix looked at his gloved hand, balling it into a fist, Maybe Finn was right... He could see shards on glass embedded in his legs, but the pain didn't register. As if it were a common day-to-day thing, he pulled a shard out and examined it before tossing it into the street.

It was then he noticed he'd been trailing blood the entire time he'd been in the shop, and probably before then. Mikey reached down to touch a small drop next to him, bringing his finger up to his face to look closely at it, Damn... There's too much to hide... Cops are gonna get it... Test it... Point to me... Fuck... "FUCK!" he roared. She had fucked him over. She had done this. She had gotten under his skin, made him feel like there was something between them when he looked in her eyes. He saw fear, yes, and other things, but he could've sworn there was more. His heart had wanted him to pull her facemask off and kiss her then and there, even with the damn water. And yet he here sat, fuming because of her.

"Uh, sir? I got your data..." Pheonix clumsily got to his feet and leaned over the counter, his anger still evident in his eyes, "Tell me what it is."

"Well... I'm not entirely sure. The flash drive, it's got a bunch of times listed on it, military times, called 'Phase One,' other than that, there's a 'Phase Two,' but it's passworded. You'd need the password or something who knew how to hack really, really well to get in that one," replied the technician. Pheonix nodded his approval to continue, so the man did, "And the hard drive, well, it's got a shit ton of info on it. Stuff about guards and their contact info, employment contracts, something about the Tower and 'Beacon Research and Development,' something about a masquerade carnival... There's something else here too, an address, with a name next to it. The Executioner."

Michael's eyes widened at that one. An address for The Executioner? Wisp had said he'd killed her father, though he honestly didn't believe that. She clearly had the capacity to manipulate him and other people, "Good. Transfer the data onto another flash drive or something." The man nodded, leaving Pheonix to once more gaze outside. He felt conflicted about everything. About this job, his brother, his goals, and most of all, this damn woman.

"Here you go, sir. Please don't come back." The family man placed two flash drives, one with much more memory than the other, and the hard drive on the counter. Mikey scooped up them and hid them away in his clothing, "I know you're gonna talk when the police show up. It doesn't matter to me." With that, he half-walked, half-stumbled out of the computer store, his mind still unable to calm down, I'm going to find you, Wisp, one way, or another...

The Executioner and s33d#r

A soft, purple glow of a computer screen provided the only illumination to the room, black as pitch in the dead of night. The sound of steel rending flesh could be heard loudly booming from the computer speakers, almost drowned out by the hum of a CPU. The tiny room was filthy, almost uninhabitable by most people's standards. Pizza boxes piled high, empty two liters of Vault, more Monster cans than there was floor, and it all stank of sweat and gas station take-away. A pale, bearded red-head sat in front of the monitor, his eyes transfixed on the virtual avatars before him, fingers dancing across the keys on the metal desk before him.

"So what's so bad about Loche Security?" came a female voice from the headset perched upon his shaggy mane. "They like to hire people with criminal backgrounds. Not as in they accept applications from ex-cons, but it looks like they actually prefer to take on employees with checkered pasts. Definitely not a good sign if six of them were transporting something in that car. Whatever it is, it's probably not legal." A sci-fi tune chimed in from the screen casting the pale man's face in an multicolored hue. Incoming Call: Victor Newman.

"Hang on, Wisp, I've gotta take this," he transitioned. Signing out of the chat in his MMO and running a bot, the ginger hovered his mouse over the call for a moment. Specifically over the large X in the corner. It stayed there for a second or two before he clicked once. Accept Call. Whoever it was, they better be good.

"Hello?"

A nervous man answered s33D#r, "Uh... Is this that hacker guy Jimmy told me about?" His voice cracked for a moment as another, much louder voice barked, "Well?!"

Seeder wasn't quite used to calls this time of night. Or at all. The vast majority of his friends were online, and why the hell would you need to call someone online? Chat and video were already right at your fingertips. Only people that called this time of night were telemarketers that hated their job or collections agencies. Seeds wasn't about to give up the ghost so easy, though. The 'Jimmy' this guy was talking about must have been Jim Calhun, a script kiddie going by the handle 'Phallangst'. Good League of Legends player, shitty sense of humor. Loved to share IRL information. Dumbass. So he decided to act sly and smooth...

"Maybe. Who's asking?" he attempted to state smoothly. Although it came out more stale than week old saltines.

The reply was quick, "Uh, it's, uh... What's your name again?" A growl was heard and then a high-pitched squeal as the phone was ripped away from the nerd. Almost immediately, a deep voice roared, "Don't. Fuck. With. Me! Are you or are you not a hacker?!" Seeds knew right away who the guttural growls belonged to. Of course, he'd just spent all day listening to them... something he'd wish that Wisp would've at least done once. The Executioner. Although he was at least four states away and behind enough proxies and firewalls to make the FBI's federal databases look like Melrose Park up against Guantanomo Bay, the dork's blood started pumping. He nearly sprang out of his desk chair. So this was what Wisp did on a daily?

...That was pretty bitchin'! Just the reason he wanted to help. She did it for the good and the glory, and he helped out anyway he could for a slice of the action, to be a part of that super team that actually made a difference. Like S.H.I.E.L.D.!

"Alright, alright! Just chill out, man. I'm a hacker. Unless this is the cops, in which case I'm an IT specialist. What's the problem?" Initially, his voice was a little jumpy, but he quickly picked up confidence. "Listen up you sexless geek, I've got something I need you to look at, understand?! And I need it done now, and done quietly. I've got this flash drive that has some kind of password on it, and I want to know what's behind it." The Executioner motioned for Fat Bastard to get ready, assuming the hacker would ask for a copy.

Enter GeekSquad mode. Walking tank must not be good with computers if he's asking someone else for help just grabbing something from a flash drive. So many people like that, he mused. Does getting superpowers make you technologically retarded, like One Piece withsidering the fruit and swimming? Or was it that dumber people were more susceptible to turning into X-Men? Either way, he began to walk through the steps with the mammoth gun on legs.

"Okay, so I'm going to need your IP address, host name, DNS, and gateway. If you don't know what any of those means, just ask one of the guys around you cowering in fear." The one thing he and Wisp had in common, a smartass sense of humor.

"What in the he- Fat ass, you listen to him and do what he says, understand?" Seeds heard some shuffling as the fat man took the phone, "Ok, he has it on speaker phone for some reason, so I heard everything. I'll tell you what you need..." The neckbeard repeated what the hacker needed, awaiting his fellow's reply. Seeder arched his back and cracked his fingers, like a conductor before his symphony of electronics and data. Time to get to work.

"Okay, hold on. This'll take a few minutes, but it'll be obvious when I'm in. I'm going to break into this guy's computer, alright?" With all the information given to him, finding the comic book geek was a snap. He already had everything he needed, something that took hours of work on its own. Once he probed out the machine in question, he began running scripts. Cane and Able began to cycle through his rainbow table of password cracks, and the laptop's screen could be seen failing multiple log-ins.
"I'm right at the edge, see? You should be seeing the screen cycling through the admin account right now..." he explained. What a breeze. Seeds happened to do this for fun on the weekend, nothing do this for fun on the weekend, nothing new. It took about another seven minutes after that, but he was in. SSH enabled, admin password disabled. While he began working, Seeder pulled up a static screen, a custom little number he had a friend on a forum design for him. It was yellow and black construction lines with an exclamation mark sign, stating "WARNING: YOU MUST CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS".

"So I'm in. Just give me more time to work my magiiiiic..." Seeds trailed off.

The Executioner ripped the phone from the fat bastard's grasp and brought his desert eagle next to the speaker, firing into the wall, "Son, if you don't stop fucking around, I will hunt you down and the last sound you hear will be what you just heard, only in person. If you don't think I can find you, try me." The hulk returned the phone to the fat man, the speaker mode still on. Seeds winced at the gunshot, nearly having a heart attack at the ring of firing pin on bullet. Oh shit, did he just kill someone...? He didn't hear anyone freaking the hell out, so he could only hope not, but he decided to voice his weak argument anyway.

"Shit! Alright just... just don't kill anyone, okay? Ask anyone here, hacking isn't like the movies. It's not pressing a couple buttons, it takes a lot of time, and a lot of skill. Just... just be patient, okay?" His tone was desperate, yet calm. Maybe he happened to share Wisp's nerves of steel as well. Well, hers was more of a borderline death wish adrenaline addiction, but whatever. As he had promised, Seeder began working through the mechanics. It was a PKI system, requiring the other key. Nearly impossible to crack, especially because both keys were private instead of a private and a public. It became increasingly obvious that this wouldn't end well, but try as he might this could be beneficial. The techie began downloading the contents of the flash drive, as well as a snapshot of the system for good measure. And as he worked, he set up a rootkit/logic bomb combo in the kernel to hide his tracks. Once the comic geek tried to restart his computer, it would begin to format the drive halfway through the POST sequence. No tracks, no way to be found. But it would take more time. And he didn't think the Executioner's patience was that long.

"Listen, I'm in the middle of downloading the information. It'll work faster on my computer if I'm not running it over the network because I'm not transmitting data back and forth. To give you an example, it's like how you can open up a car to 110 on a rural road in the middle of nowhere no problem, but can't in New York City traffic. But it'll take more time. Promise me you won't kill anyone, alright?"

"I can't promise a damn thing, son." The Executioner looked out at the streets, watching a few people watch past. In the back of his mind, he wondered why the police hadn't arrived. Wouldn't someone have called the police by now? "Look, I need to know what's behind that passcode. If you can get me info on the locations stored in there, I want that too. I want to find out what the fuck this all means, if any of it is illegal, and if so, whose ass I need to kill." He looked out again, the hairs on the back of his neck raising. Malcolm didn't like this. He'd been in one spot too long.

"Just... another... minute... Okay, I have it," the hacker announced. He began to pour through the information given, readying one last surprise as a parting gift. "There's two organizations here: The Tower, and Carver Industries. I'll have to do some research on the Tower, but Carver Industries is owned by Eudora Carver. They just had a press release demo concerning a robotic home security system this morning. They're well known for donating to charities and the cities infrastructure. I think they dabble in the medicinal field as well, kind of an umbrella corporation, and I'm seeing research labs and other stuff like that in different locations over the city. I don't know if it's illegal, but it might be worth a look. Do you have a phone or a way I can contact you? You're not going to like this, but... I'm not going to be able to crack the flash drive anytime soon. Now hold on, b-before you blow anyone's head off, I can upload maps, coordinates, street addresses, all that stuff into a phone or laptop, and I can contact you later with what I find." It was a desperate move, but hopefully it would work. As he spoke, Seeder began to apply his script to the flash drive...

"Uh huh... Carver Industries... Robots and city infrastructure... What do these guys not have their hands in I wonder..." Malcolm drifted off for a moment, considering the possibility this corporation could be tracking everyone's movements in the city using cameras installed ostensibly to assist the police or catch speeders. Good thing he moved through the sewers. Seeds heard a bit of struggle on the other end of the line, followed with the Executioner saying, "I have a phone now, and I have your address you fat bastard. You better keep paying this damn bill and if the cops follow the signal, I will find you." Malcolm took the flash drive out of the man's laptop and walked out of the comic book store, repeating his new phone number to Seeds, "You better contact me with this shit. In the meantime, I think I'm going to raid a lab or something..."

Officer Collins

"So you're telling me he was a ninja?" inquired Officer Collins. She was now on duty and in her police uniform as she took the shop technician's testimony, "Yes, mam. He was really interested in this flash drive and a hard drive... Something about Loche Security, the Tower, Carver Industries. A masquerade ball or something. And an address, for some Executioner guy." Collins's eye's widened, "You're fucking with me." The man shook his head, "I saved a copy of all the info while he wasn't looking." The technician fumbled through something under the counter, pulling out yet another flash drive. He handed it over to Elizabeth, "Mr. Wainwright... You may have just saved the police and I a huge amount of work... I'll see if we can reward you somehow. Maybe get you into the identity protection system or something..."

She strolled out of the repair shop, staring at the trail of blood that led into the darkness. Elizabeth had a team of officers following it to its source. They'd doubtless get a rough idea of what had occurred, but this flash drive, it was far more interesting. The officer looked at it closely before placing it in her pocket. Officer Daniels walked up to her on the sidewalk, "Mam, we got some news from the forensics guys. They found blood on those shards you picked up, as well as blood on a separate shard, near the entrance of the book. They think the two aren't connected."

"Fantastic," Officer Collins was beaming with happiness. Finally, some god damn leads. She could start hunting these bastards for real. Elizabeth was closing in on these fuckers at last. Especially that son of a bitch who murdered her colleagues...

Pheonix

Mikey walked the back alleys of the city in a daze. His scrapes, cuts, and wounds had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but the blood loss wasn't helping him to focus. Hours passed, people seeming to rush past him. Lights streaked across his vision. And suddenly he found himself leaning against a door somewhere in the ghetto.

Pheonix blinked and looked around, spotting a street sign nearby. Train Street. It had to be past midnight considering how long it must have taken him to walk back to this place. This has to be Johnny's place. He slammed his fist into the door, "Johnny! Johnny! Wake up!" Pheonix pounded on it until it swung open, his body falling inside.

Above him stood a skinny little bastard, just as tatted up as Mikey, "Holy shit, man, is that you, Mikey?!" Pheonix reached up to grab Johnny's hand, "Yeah, man. I'm back." The runt pulled the ninja to his feet with surprising ease, "Holy shit. Holy shit. Get the fuck inside man, take a seat, grab some weed, whatever you need."

Michael stumbled further into the house as Johnny locked up behind him and took a look outside through the windows. He ended up collapsing onto an old sofa as his old friend sat down across from him, "Holy shit, man, what the hell happened? How the hell did you get out already?" Pheonix growled as he adjusted his legs on the sofa, shards of glass sticking out of them, "Good behavior, ha." He grabbed his side as his laugh sent pain shooting through it, "Fuck. Your sister still here, Johnny? I need her to patch me up."

"Of course my lazy ass sister is still here, feeding off me," Johnny replied before yelling, "Clara! Wake your ass up! Mikey's here, he needs your help!" Mikey heard a nearly inaudible groan in the backrooms as he started to explain the situation, "Johnny, I'm fucked. That bank robbery on TV, that shit was me." His friend laughed and slapped his knee, "No shit! You pulled that off? In broad fucking daylight? You always were a brave son of a bitch, Mikey!" Pheonix held his hand up to stop Johnny, "I'm serious, man. They've got my blood. Probably a witness. I fucked up, man, all because of this bitch..."

"Fuck, man. What bitch?" asked Johnny, concerned for his friend. Mikey ran his hands over his face. He could feel little shards of glass embedded in his skin, "This bitch named Wisp." As Mikey mentioned her name, Johnny's eyes widened, "No shit. This must be the same bitch who's been fucking with the boys and the other gangs. How the hell did she beat you, man, I saw what you did on TV, that shit was epic."

"She didn't beat me!" yelled Pheonix before lowering his voice, "I had her. She was cornered. She was going to give up. And then..." He couldn't help seeing her walking towards him through the flames, how they seemed to make her seem even more attractive. Then her eyes forced themselves into his mind. "I blacked out. I woke up later out in a parking lot. I don't know what the fuck happened," he added quickly to avoid embarrassing himself in front of his friend.

"Uh huh," added a female voice, calling Mikey's attention to the back of the living room. Clara Penning, Johnny's blue-eyed, redheaded, super hot sister. She was smiling at him as she walked over to the sofa, wearing a white t-shirt and boy shorts. Mikey remembered how he always wanted to go after her but Johnny would've been pissed and come after him. He could've sworn she felt the same way too as the woman bent over to look at his legs, giving him a clear view down her shirt.

For once in the past few hours, Mikey smiled. That was until she announced, "This is gonna hurt, Mikey. Get up and go into the kitchen, I need to remove everything in there." She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet as Johnny got his other side. They practically dragged him into the kitchen and laid him on the table as she ordered. Pheonix clenched his jaw in pain before cracking another smile, "I thought nurses were supposed to be kind and gentle?" Clara rolled her eyes, "Prison didn't change you, huh?"

Michael chuckled a bit, deciding to try to be smooth, "Of course not, bab- Holy fuck! Christ, some warning, please!" Clara tossed the removed piece of glass in the sink before smiling innocently at him, "Don't call me baby, Mikey, you know I don't like it." He let his head rest against the table. This was going to be long and painful.

An hour and what must've been a hundred pieces of glass and dressings later, Mikey stood in the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror. Johnny gave him an old grey shirt and shorts to wear with the shoes he'd worn from his costume. After that, his friend had gone off to burn the clothes and toss their ashes in the river. Mikey looked at his katana resting against the sink and then back at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown roots were starting to show under his red hair as Mikey ran his hands through it, "Fuck... Maybe I should just let it grow back natural..." He looked closely at the gruff man in the mirror, thinking about the day. So much had happened within twenty-four hours. Mikey had killed or seriously wounded five more people, successfully robbed a bank... fought with his brother... and fought this woman, Wisp, who had gotten so deep under his skin that he still kept thinking about that moment, "What the fuck is wrong with me... The police have got my number... If they catch me it's going to be life in prison..."

Mikey sighed and ran some cold water in the sink, washing his face, I can't go back. Those bastards already took three years of my life. I'm not giving them the next seventy. He dried his face and looked back in the mirror, "What the hell happened to you, Mikey... I feel so angry all the time... Maybe I am fucked up... Maybe prison did this shit to me..." Pheonix sighed again and grabbed his katana, sliding it out of its scabbard to look at it in the light of the bathroom. It was a very nice sword, well balanced, extremely sharp, stolen from some collector he'd found a few days ago trying to sell it on craigslist.

Suddenly the door swung open as Clara casually walked in, forcing Mikey against the wall so she could rummage in the medicine cabinet, grinning as she said, "Playing with your sword, Mikey?" He looked at her closely as he put the katana away, "Why are you in here, Clara?" She shrugged, pretending to look for something in the cabinet, giggling, "Oh, you know, just wanting to play with your sword too." Clara frowned as she closed the glass door, "Come on, Mikey, you always laugh at that shit. What's wrong with you? What happened the past three years?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Clara," he replied, trying to push his way past her. She simply moved to block him, pressing him completely against the wall with her body, pretending to pout, "Why not?" Mikey tried to gently push her back, "Because I don't want to, and Johnny wouldn't like this, Clara." She simply forced herself against him further, locking eyes with him. Pheonix's mind recalled Wisp's green eyes before being interrupted by Clara locking lips with him as well.

Mikey breathed heavily as he laid in the bed. Clara made her way out of the room quickly, pausing at the door to blow a kiss at him. Alone once again, the Regel sighed and took another deep breath, Number one, Johnny can't find out about that... Two... I can't go back to Finn. They don't know he's involved. They've got the evidence on me, not him... He rolled over and pulled his shorts off the pile of his clothes by the bed, revealing the two flash drives and hard drive, Finn'll have to deal with that other woman though... That bitch will have to wait or something, no way I'm walking into her trap like this... Putting the shorts on under the covers, he relaxed as much as he could, stretching his wounded limbs, And Wisp... She's been fucking with the gang... Which means I can probably lure her out... But why? To kill her? No. I don't know. Fuck. Johnny and I'll figure something out tomorrow...

The Executioner

Malcolm slipped into his abandoned hideout in the factory district, wandering through numerous corridors before finally reaching his room. His bed was a cot, a table and chair to eat on made from metal. There wasn't much else. Other than the reams of ammo and grenades he had stored on the other side of the room. The Executioner looked at the stolen phone, messing with it to try to ensure the damn thing wasn't throwing out a GPS signal or something. He'd probably have to relocate anyway, the signal itself would give him away if someone isolated it as belonging to him. The thing only had maybe a day's worth of battery anyway.

As Malcolm stripped his suit of armor off, he pulled out a few water bottles and gulped them down. He'd have to steal a few batteries for this phone. Malcolm needed it to get the info from that hacker. He decided long before reaching his home he was going to bust up one of those labs and interrogate the people there to figure out if they knew anything. The beast walked over to a dirty mirror and looked into it, I'll be fucking with some big dogs in this city... Good. The man smiled and laid down on his cot, drifting off to sleep with a shotgun lying on his chest.

Officer Collins

Collins had drifted off to sleep in her office as she was suddenly awoken by the phone, "Collins, we got those samples sent off. We should have the results in a day or so. Might get lucky with a match." Elizabeth smiled and responded, "Fantastic. Get some people looking at that flash drive. I want all the info we can get from it. And inform SWAT we've got an address we need to hit tomorrow. The Executioner might be there. I'm going to go back to napping in my office, don't wake me unless it's important." The officer on the other line told her he understood her as she hung up.

Elizabeth let her chair recline back again as she yawned. She looked at the time, deciding she was thankful her damn sister hadn't called her again since the bank. Elizabeth hated listening to her drone on. The officer smiled at something funny she thought as she drifted back to sleep.

-Finn and Black Jack-

From his perch, Blackjack watched and waited as the gathering of media, police and civilians began to disband. Once the press wrapped up their reporting, the assembly of citizens slowly disappeared, leaving only a small police presence responsible for keeping watch from outside. Time passed slowly but Blackjack had no difficulty being patient, besides, it gave him an opportunity to better assess the situation and form a plan of action for entering the bank. He had come to the conclusion that the Bank itself would be his best bet in terms of finding any clues. Just as he stood from his crouching position, he felt the presence of someone behind him, the man’s voice calling out to him in mid descent.

"Hey man, I come in peace." Finn said, repelling down and landed with the faint sound of warping metal when he landed on the fire escape.

Casually glancing over his shoulder, he got a glimpse of the man landing behind him. The first thing he noticed was that he was wearing an odd getup. He had a somewhat polished look to him yet he was wearing a serial killer’s mask. Despite the disconnected look, Blackjack wasn’t alarmed at all. The tone of the man’s voice and choice of words sounded sincere, so he didn’t believe he was in any danger. “Oh…company…” He replied, while turning to face the stranger who was obviously a fellow super. Blackjack cupped his elbow with one hand while using the other hand to rub his chin, sizing up the shorter man before him.

“Hmm…Don’t I know you from somewhere? Oh I know… You’re dressed a little differently but the similarities are spot on. You’re the guy who robbed the bank across the street this morning right, the one everyone’s looking for? They say a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime but who knew it was true?’ He mused to himself. Falling back against the railing of the fire escape he crossed his legs at the ankles and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Anyway, it's fortunate you showed up here tonight, you’re just the man I’ve been wanting to see.” He said impishly.

Finn was surprised that the other costumed man was so casual, to say the least. The other man was taller and didn't seem to be threatened in the least; he stood with his arms and legs crossed in an amused, thoughtful way. Unsure on exactly what the other super was capable of, he decided to keep his distance on the relatively small fire escape. With the onlookers dispersing below, it was far quieter and easier to think over the current situation.

"Am I now?" Finn answered. "I didn't think I would be heading back so soon, but. . . well, today didn't go as well as expected."

“I’d say.” Blackjack replied with a smirk and continued taunting. “Robbing banks is one thing…mass homicide is another. Thanks to your bloodthirsty accomplice, you guys are on top of the city’s most wanted list.”

The shorter of the pair paused for a moment. Thoughts about their botched bank robbery flooded his mind, considering the amount of officers that were patrolling the city in search of him and his brother. The Regels were never ones to stick with the rules, but the day's events had landed them in the realm of felons in a relatively short amount of time.

"You're pretty easy to spot with the same outfit as the armored car robbery this morning." Finn said. "Listen, let's not play dumb. We both happened to try and rob extremely high security locations at the exact same time today with the same number and type of guards at both locations. Doesn't that all seem a little too well connected?"

Blackjack adjusted his stance to an even more casual one, resting his elbows on back of the railing. “Not much for subtlety I see.” He said with a grin and leaning his head to the side. “But yes you’re absolutely right, it’s too much of a coincidence. It’s quite possible that we’re being set up. If that’s the case, we should probably make sure we’re on the same page…a temporary alliance perhaps?” He suggested with a cocked brow. “At least until we get to the bottom of this.”

“You can call me Black Jack. I’m a specialist. People hire me to…take care of things. Some guy who calls himself the Architect hired me to nab a briefcase traveling in the armored vehicle you mentioned earlier. Unfortunately, the briefcase exploded, so I wasn’t able to secure the contents; however that walking soup can who calls himself The Executioner was also on board. I can’t be sure but I think he took the goods and rigged the briefcase to explode. Since the briefcase went boom, I have no idea what was inside, however I have a feeling The Executioner does…now it’s your turn...”

Black Jack- so that he went by. Finn's posture wasn't quite as relaxed as the other super, but he didn't feel an immediate sense of danger from the new acquaintance. To be honest, the other criminal seemed to have a pretty fun and positive personality so far. The mention of an alliance wasn't entirely out of the question, which the older Regel brother took into silent consideration. Gauging what to ask next, he was caught off guard when the employer was mentioned.

"So The Architect found both of us." Finn said. "We were just contacted by him yesterday, other than that we've never even seen the guy. My -er- friend's dropping off the flash drive right now. I didn't even get a chance to see what all the fuss was about."

Rubbing the back of his head through the ski mask, Finn kept his electric blue eyes fixed on Black Jack. He wasn't a specialist like this guy- just last week, he was tattooing tramp stamps on fifty year old women. To say the least, his life was much more interesting as a newly ordained felon.

Upon Pulse’s confession, Blackjack pushed himself off the railing and stepped towards the shorter man. Cocking his head to the side and giving Pulse a sideways glance, the playfulness in his face was temporarily replaced with serious revelation. “Wait a minute…this Architect fellow contracted you for the robbery? Hmm….” Blackjack turned his back on Pulse and stepped away from him, gazing out towards the broken Wentworth Bank. Exposing his back to a stranger was probably a stupid thing to do but somehow he didn’t appear to be nervous of the situation at all. “…and you were supposed to retrieve a flash drive huh? I wonder what was in the briefcase I was supposed to steal…I guess I’ll have to track down The Executioner and find out.” He mused with a hidden grin.

Turning back around to face Pulse, he fell back into his overly casual position to continue their conversation. “…and you have no idea what’s on the flash drive? I see… Well hopefully you’re ‘friend…’ He said using air quotes. “Made the drop without going on another killing spree. I think you’re in enough trouble as it is.” He said nonchalantly, even though it was obvious Pulse was troubled by the botched robbery.

"Since The Architect's only getting half of what he wants, do you think he'll try and get to the Executioner himself or send you after him?" Finn asked. Not knowing The Architect at all, he seemed to be well connected enough to have Black Jack killed for not getting what he wanted- but then why send so many people he didn't know in the first place to get such valuable items?

When the conversation circled back towards the Architect, Troy blinked innocently. “That I don’t know. Like you, I’ve never even heard of this guy before today. For all I know, he may even come after me for not getting what he wanted. Although I wouldn’t mind another chance at that Executioner fellow…I wonder what he looks like under that helmet.” Blackjack said while letting his eyes drift to the side and trailing off on some fanatical fantasy. Glancing back at Pulse, he continued with his original train of thought. “I don’t usually get in too deep when it comes to a job but this one has me intrigued. If you find out anything about The Executioner, The Architect or what was on that flash drive, I’d love to know.”

Reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer, Finn looked like he was about to pull out a gun, but instead revealed a small flip-phone usually used by drug dealers and criminals. Easy to throw away and not get tracked down; they even found a place to buy them with cash.

"Wanna trade numbers?" Finn asked. "I'm Pulse by the way."

When Pulse reached for the phone, Blackjack didn’t flinch, mostly because he didn’t get the feeling that he was in any danger. When he actually saw the flip-phone being produced, he giggled and snatched it out of Pulse’s hands. “…and some people think there’s no such thing as dinosaurs.” He teased, while quickly punching in some numbers.

“Listen Pulse, this number is the best way to get a hold of me. It’s the number of my associate, you can call him Papo.” He said muffling another laugh. Handing him back the phone, he smiled at Pulse. The smile was harmless in its integrity, attractive yet alluring, with a hint of mystery…perhaps its perfection is what made it seem so devilish.

Hopping backward onto the railing of the fire escape, he was able to stand there easily with his arms crossed and without loosing his balance. “Thank you for the conversation Pulse, I found it to be most… stimulating. Now if you come across any interesting information, feel free to reach out and touch somebody.” He said with a wink before back flipping off the fire escape and down into the alley below.

As he disappeared into the shadows, Pulse could hear a fading shout. “Nice suit by the way!”

-Eudora Carver-
-The Labyrinth-

Eudora adjusted her lipstick of her faint reflection in the pristine, clear glass in front of her. She stood in a glass tube with round walls and no edges, just a single door on the other side. There was one other person in the tube; a squat, balding male scientist, busy adjusting and calibrating an examination table in the center of the room. The scientist was sick looking with a five o'clock shadow and rather deep rings beneath his eyes.

"Did I ever tell you about my first experiment?" She asked the scientist, who jumped so much he nearly dropped the tray of blood samples he had just finished collecting from an unseen subject.

"N-no, ma'am." He replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Yelner, don't be so afraid. This is a day of triumphs and leaping into the future of science." She said, turning from the glass to finally face the scientist.

"It's just that the levels- it seems like the other patients are still reacting to the stone even days later. We don't know how long it takes to burn ou-"

"You're the brightest physicist I've ever come across." Eudora cut him off. "And that's saying a lot."

Eudora stepped toward the stainless steel examination table. She was dressed in a floor length black sequin gown with black lace gloves that nearly reached her elbows. It had a square, low-cut neckline and she wore a black string of pearls tastefully in place. Barely acknowledging Yelner, Eudora placed a black wire-work masquerade mask on; it had a total of twenty diamonds fixed in place and cost more than most cars. Dressed entirely out of character for the situation at hand, she tapped through one of the nearest display panels.

"It was a potato." She said, again, out of nowhere. "A simple potato clock with a few nails and some old wire- that was my first experiment. It was exhilarating, really. Creating something useful like a clock out of such an ordinary thing like a potato convinced me that anything could have a hidden purpose. . . It just needs to be looked at from a different light."

There was a series of loud clicking noises and the echo of pistons in the small glass tube; the ceiling opened up from a seam in the center as a narrow object was lowered onto the examination table. It most closely resembled a coffin, except that the entire lid was made of the same thick, indestructible glass as the examination room's walls. Eudora stepped forward and tapped the glass lightly, peering at the unconscious body of Jonathan Bakker within.

"Madame, we need to step out now." Yelner said, touching the woman lightly on the forearm.

Eudora followed the scientist out of the sliding glass doors that sealed shut with the hiss of compressing air behind them. A dozen more scientists stood in the outer ring of the experimentation bay, which was at least ten times the size of the room they had just left Bakker in. Every wall was lined in computer screen, keyboards and a countless array of other devices that chirped away information into the organized chaos. The corporate tycoon followed across the room to the main control panel facing the small glass examination tube.

"Beginning Phase Two." Yelner said out loud, pressing several keys and turning up a dial. "Quantum calibration of the stone's energy production off of. . . living organisms."

The tube whirred to life again with the sound of the pistons and the center of the ceiling opening up again. Inside Bakker's cell, a sleek, white mechanical arm slowly lowered a clear glass tube. The container was half the length of an arm with a peculiar item hovering in the center- a jagged red rock that began to pulsate with yellow light as it inched into the room. Almost resembling a continually burning chunk of sharp magma, the cracks of light seemed to flow and move across the surface.

"Initial readings over the past week have shown that the stone seems to generate more power when placed in close proximity with an organic host." Yelner said to his employer, who had her eyes fixated on the experimentation chamber. "We'll decrease the distance over time but we found that doing so too quickly causes some unfavorable circumstances."

"Good." She replied. "Don't stop getting closer this time- no matter how much this one screams."

-Finn-

Finn had spent most of the night and following morning worried about where his brother could have gone- who never managed to make it back to their base at any point in time. Convinced that Michael had been found by the police, he was surprised that he hadn't heard about it yet on the news. It was before dawn when Finn was contacted by the Architect. Instantly asking where his younger sibling could be, the Architect sent a message saying that Michael could be found at Beacon Research and Development later that evening.

Carrying the three piece tuxedo that his grandfather had worn during his wedding, Finn spent most of the morning at a dry cleaner and shopping in the finer part of town. With a pocket full of money and trying to keep from thinking about his brother, the magnetic super purchased a high quality shirt, bow-tie, designer shoes and other accessories to fit in for the evening among the super wealthy.

Sending Black Jack a text message that the Architect had contacted him, he wondered if Beacon was another heist that Michael had planned on his own. It seemed like irrational enough behavior to be believable, so he couldn't let his brother go alone. Even if it was a trap set up by the Architect, he couldn't risk not being there.

It started raining in the afternoon and continued drearily throughout the day. Finn rented a town car with a driver and headed to the grand opening charity ball shortly after it was scheduled to begin. The research facility was just north outside the city limits, where there just began to be more grass and trees than street lamps and concrete. The black car pulled in front of the glass overhang, where women covered in jewels and men who resembled the Monopoly Man walked by in the dozens. Seeing that everyone was indeed wearing a variety of masquerade masks, he tied his own metallic brushed mask on in place and stepped out into the cool air.

"Welcome, sir." A massive security guard said, closing the car door behind Finn. "We hope you have a good evening."

Nodding his thanks, Finn walked down the red carpet entrance, past the line of media that deemed him not famous enough to photograph on his way by. There were already at least two hundred people in the grand entrance hall, which had been outfitted with crystal chandeliers, rows of food and circular tables dotted throughout the crowd. Waiters and waitresses meandered throughout the decadent masquerade, taking empty glasses and handing back their full counterparts. A stringed orchestra flowed through the air, resonating in the massive space and playing a classical tune as the crowd arrived. There was a speech scheduled, followed by more food and dancing, so Finn decided that there was plenty of time to mingle. It was an extreme change from the bank robbery a day earlier, to say the least.

It was a long, lonely flight home after her little break down on that rooftop. How could she allow herself to lose like that? To just let him walk all over her? Almost kill her? She was better than that. Maybe... maybe not as good as she thought after all. Her running shoes squelched as she touched down on her apartment building, and Wisp wearily began to do as she had done before: remove all of her equipment. Taking her soggy belongings and chucking them into her backpack (still sitting on top of the entrance to the roof, thankfully), Hope trudged inside, sniffling from the cold she swore she was going to have in the morning. Every step down those three flights of stairs felt like murder on her muscles, and she was soaked from head to toe. Hope got a few stares as she descended to her floor, but she couldn't give a shit even if she wanted to. Her apartment was warm and inviting, but the emptiness of it mocked her. Yep, this is what playing Batman got you. A shitty little apartment and your ass handed to you on a regular basis. She should've known better. Hope carelessly tossed her bag onto the cluttered floor and glanced at her open laptop. Over a dozen missed calls, all from Seeds. Hope sighed heavily and picked the laptop up, taking it with her into the bathroom. She didn't call him back, didn't read his messages. Instead, she set iTunes to Skillet and turned the faucet on her shower. Hope glanced over into the mirror to meet her miserable reflection. It wasn't a happy face, or a confident one. She was wet, arms red from being burnt, marred by soot. Her eyes were blank, and her frown deep. She couldn't bear to put up with how she looked, and turned away from her visage as she disrobed. Hope stepped into the hot shower, the water stinging her sore muscles and soothing her burns. Hope let the water wash over her, washing away the stench of failure, the pangs of defeat. After about fifteen minutes, she turned off the water and stepped out of the comforting shower, brushed her teeth, and pulled on some lime green sweats and a loose fitting Finding Nemo T-shirt of sky blue for bed. Hope dug through her medicine cabinet and chugged half a bottle of Nyquil before snapping her laptop shut and exiting to her living room. She tossed it onto the coffee table and promptly collapsed onto the couch, exhausted and aching for sleep. She didn't know what time it was and neither did she care. Fuck work in the morning, fuck tonight, fuck everyone and everything.

Hope had a fitful time sleeping, tossing and turning and even falling from the couch once. Her dreams were filled with anxiousness and failure. She would be soaring through the sky and drop straight to the ground. A group of thugs would take to her punches like pillows and pull her tongue out through her lips. But most of all, there was fire. The memory was still vivid, fresh in her mind, of how her aggressor had filled that room with flames and smoke, choking her, licking at her skin, and walked through like the Devil himself. Sometimes he had a skull for a face. Sometimes he had no face at all. Sometimes, he would keep walking, extend out an impossibly long arm and grab her by the throat. Strangling her, choking her with the flames and smoke as she struggled and kicked and couldn't break free...

"Hua!" Hope awoke with a start. Dim light shone through the blinds, and Hope rubbed her face and ran a hand through her wild hair as she sat up. She wandered over to the fridge for a morning Pepsi and then to the window, peering through the blinds and into the cloudy, ominous sky.
Hmm, she thought, If it rains it means that I won't have to go to wo-
"Shit!" she cried out. Hope didn't know what time it is, but it was waaaaaay past late for getting her lazy ass to the job site. As she rushed over to her laptop, she stubbed her toe on the coffee table and muttered more curses before flipping it open and making a call to her boss through Google.
"This is Dan Marshall," came the reply after about three rings. Hope felt the blood run from her face as she attempted to fake a smile, even over the phone. She was going to get it now.
"Heeeeey Dan. It's Hope," she said sweetly.
"*Sigh*...Why didn't you show up for work today?" was his tired response. He sounded disappointed rather than angry, and that somehow made her feel worse.
"I'm SO sorry! I didn't mean to, but my phone's alarm didn't go off and I felt sick so I didn't wake up on time an-"
"If you keep skipping work I'm gonna have to let you go, Hope." She swallowed hard, trying to force down the guilty lump in her throat.
"Yeah... I know."
"You do good work and I can see a future for you in this business, but you can't keep showing up late or not at all. It looks bad on the company."
"Yeah, I know bu-"
"Don't bother coming into work today, Hope, we're about to wrap up for the day. Gonna get rained out. But you better show up tomorrow, ya hear?"
"Yes sir, I'll be there on time tomorrow," she conceded. Marshall was good at that. He was kind enough to keep giving her chances, but he really knew how to guilt her when she eventually blew it.
"Alright then. I'll see you tomorrow then, ready for work."
"Yes sir. Goodbye." Hope clicked the icon to hang up and stood, giving a trembling sigh. It wasn't going to be her week this week, she could already tell. Damn, if only she could get paid doing this superhero schtick. Hope grimaced. She'd probably fuck that up, too. Hope wandered into the bathroom to shower and start her day and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror again. Eyes full of sorrow, looking like a beaten dog. Instead of turning away, she took a step back and shook her head.
"This is bullshit..." she muttered. Hope turned again into the mirror and looked herself dead in the eye.
"You're better than this," she said powerfully, "All this freaks and evil motherfuckers are running around dropping people in the street, and you're just gonna accept that? Go cry about it? You think Spiderman goes off and sulks on a rooftop whenever he gets his ass beat. Fuck no. He's better than that. You're better than that!" She grabbed the sink with both hands and leaned in closer to her reflection.
"You're the only one standing between the people of this fuckin' city and the scum of the earth who goes off doing... whatever the fuck they want! You wanna save this city? Suck it the fuck up, you whiny little bitch!" Hope stepped away from the mirror and nodded at herself. Now that was a reflection worth looking at. She looked fierce, determined. There was fire in her eyes.
"This is my goddamn city. Mine," she stressed before turning on the hot water. She left the bathroom while the water became warm to grab her laptop and set the music to what she thought should be her new theme song. Un-Gravitify by Crush 40. Hope bopped her head to the music, letting it pump her up as she let the water wash over her once more. Washing away the doubt, the hopelessness, filling her with confidence. Tonight, fuck everyone and everything. It was her way or the highway. Let them get in her way.

"...*Yawn*...Hello?" came a tired, warped voice from the other end of the line.
"Hey," Hope said simply.
"Wisp!? Holy shit, what happened last night? I tried calling you and-"
"I noticed." Her tone was as flat as ever. No time for games today.
"I saw what happened at the Loche Security building, place burned to the ground. I thought you were dead or something!"
"FUCK!" Hope snarled, losing her cool and flipping over the coffee table before her, scattering empty Pepsi and Red Bull cans everywhere. Those two guards, tied up on the second floor... No, not her fault. His fault. Pheonix. She was going to catch that son of a bitch and make him choke on his own dick after she cut it off and fed it to him.
"Geez, don't have to yell, I'm right here. Tell me what happened." Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Hope responded to Seeder. Although a little more angry than she'd have liked.
"I fought some kind of... fucking... fire ninja or some shit last night, there were two goons I tied up an-"
"They got out," Seeds interrupted, "The firefighters got them out. One's in critical condition from smoke inhalation and they're both in the ER, but they made it out. Calm down, Wisp. ...Did you get-"
"No, I didn't get the fucking information, but I nearly died, thanks for asking!" she snapped at him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just trying to do our job here. Look, I'm glad that you're safe, alright? Now let's go over this together. One step at a time. The fire ninja, he's-"
"One of the bank robbers? Yeah, I thought so. He called himself 'Pheonix'. I saw his face, but didn't get a picture."
"Pheo...nix... Okay, good to know. Why was he there?"
"Fuck if I know. I didn't have time to ask him before he tried to flambe my ass."
"You think he's in on it? Maybe he wanted the other drive, and wanted to find out the same thing we were trying to."
"Maybe. He did talk to me, though. He asked if I was after 'them'. Motherfucker was probably trippin', but you could be right." Hope obviously left out their tender little moment together. She still didn't know exactly how she felt about that, but emotions ranged from ashamed to furious.

"Alright, I'll look into it. I got some good news, though. A friend of a friend called me last night and put me on the line with... 'The Executioner'..." Seeder continued slyly. Hope's face lit up.
"No shit? What'd he say? Gimme the dirt!" Her gap-toothed smile spread from ear to ear. Not a total wash, last night. Maybe this could be the big break?
"Well, for starters, guy probably thinks a 'power cycle' is a piece of exercise equipment."
"Quit stallin', dude! C'mon! Tell meeeeee!" she pleaded. She knew that Seeds was fucking with her for suspense.
"So check it out: Dude wanted to find out what was on the flash drive in the armored car, but didn't know how to work a computer. So naturally he has me pull off all the information and send it to him."
"Oh. My. God. You're kidding?"
"Nope! Got everything off the flash drive! Guy just handed it over!"
"Ah ha ha haaa! Oh my god, that's so awesome! You are the fucking sauce boss, y'know that?" Hope laughed, her spirits instantly lifted. Who would've guessed that she'd almost get burned alive, only to have their next big break literally fall into their laps?
"Lemme tell you what's on it..." Seeds suavely continued, "I've got a list of addresses and locations with research and tech labs at each one. Two corporations are involved: The Tower, and Carver Industries. I'm guessing that-"
"One of them hired the guards of the armored car?"
"Or both of them, maybe. It's possible, no, likely that whoever was involved with the armored car is also involved with what happened at the bank. What are the odds that both heists would happen at the same time? There was also a two part key on the flash drive, so it only makes sense that another flash drive was at the bank. If I'm right, which I am all the time."
"Chill out there, stud. Send the locations to my email, I'll check them out later. You got more, right?"
"A lot more. I couldn't crack it without the other flash drive, but something on the files wanted input for something called 'Phase Two'. Don't know what it could mean, but it doesn't sound good. On a side note, I sent the Executioner some of the same info, but I only gave him half of the research labs I found. Additionally, I've been tracking his phone after he called me by activating the GPS. I'm not seeing it on my radar anymore, but I've got his origin point and where he ended up for the night, with a heat map in between."
"Yeeeeaaaaaah...?"
"The heat map looked pretty funny to me. He's not following roads and I know he can't fly, and he's not the fucking Juggernaut so he's not running through walls. He makes his way around the city through the sewers, Wisp."
"I'll get to him later. Right now, he's doin' pretty good. Maybe we can puppet him into going after these other bank robbers before we take him down? Hm, sounds like some info the police might want later, too..." Hope mused, a dreamy smirk on her face and a sultry tone in her voice.
"Wow, that's... You're scaring me right now, Wisp," was Seeder's dumbfounded reply.
"There's what's good, and then there's what's fair, Seeds. I will personally fuck everyone over if I have to. He's a murderer and a danger to the city, Seeds, just like the other ones. I'm playing smarter, not harder."
"Ooookaaaaayyy... Moving on. Last but not least, there's a masquerade ball at Beacon Research and Development tonight. Eudora Carver's going to be there, and Beacon is run by the Tower. Actually, I've got some maps of the facility her somewhere I can send you."
"Sounds like a blast. Looks like my schedule just filled up," Hope said with a smirk, "I don't know how she's involved yet, but I guess it doesn't hurt to ask. Gauge what she says against what we know?"
"Sounds like a plan. Alright, I'll be up tonight around 7:30ish. Ball starts at 8. Hey, Wisp, why'd you ignore my calls last night?"
"Well, I, uh..." Wisp rubbed the bag of her head sheepishly, "I kiiiindaaaa drowned my phone..."
"Really? Geez, how the hell did you manage?"
"Fighting the ninja, used the sprinkler system as a weapon. Don't know if I'm disappointed how it went or not."
"So... no tech support tonight?"
"Pfft. You wish. I've got it chillin' in a plastic bag with some Uncle Ben's rice. That's supposed to work... right?"
"You better hope so, or you're on your own."
"Alright, alright. Let's kick this shit. I'll talk to you tonight." Like always, Hope abruptly cut the connection before standing to stretch. Time to get to work. The ominous drumroll of thunder sounded off in the distance, a harbinger for what was to come.

---

Once seven o'clock started rolling around, Hope began to gear up for the night's antics. It had been a productive day. Found out some new information, paid the rent (the electric bill could wait), got some groceries, went down to the Y to teach her woodworking class, prepped her stuff for the night. She had to throw out her favorite hoodie after it became singed and soaked. Burned some holes straight through it, and it smelled like someone's fireplace. Bastard. Before it rained, she managed to go to the roof with another light grey one, put some tape on the back of it in the shape of her custom emblem, and spray over it with black spray paint. It looked a little bit cooler in her opinion. Sent her shoes, belt, gloves, pads, and vest through the washer and dryer so she could wear them tonight. This time she put on a pair of baggy black cargo pants, similarly kept from riding up with athletic tape and knee pads and shin guards. The same vest went on over a plain black T-shirt, and the belt over that, stocked exactly how it was the night before, swapping out the Red Bull and trail mix for a Power Bar and a canister of Nos. A different pair of black skate shoes slipped on her feet before she donned her new hoodie. Wisp crinkled her nose. Still smelled kinda like paint. Oh well, maybe that'd change in the rain. Finally, she strapped her snow goggles to her face and tied a blue bandanna around her nose and mouth. Wisp picked up a crowbar from her coffee table and ran the straps around it, securing it to her back.

Moving to the kitchen, she grabbed her phone of the counter, kept in a plastic bag with the headpiece fishing itself out to keep it from getting soaked again. She tested it, and her camera, and it worked well enough. Except for the fact that it was an unreliable piece of shit and the screen would freeze sometimes. Playing with it, she ran the headset through her vest and put on some One For the Money by Escape the Fate, and called Seeder.
"You ready for this?" she asked, pulling her bandanna around her neck to take a swig of her energy drink.
"Sure thing. Let's do it," the voice on the end of the line answered back. Wisp opened her apartment window and clambered through, closing it behind her quickly before free-falling toward the sky. The rain had let up some from the torrential downpour of that afternoon, but it was still going strong.
"Ugh, I don't wanna get wet agaaaaiiin..." she moaned.
"That's what she said," quipped Seeds, not passing up on low-hanging fruit.
"Oh my gawd! You're such a juvenile little shit!" she shrieked at him over his uproar of laughter.
It wasn't that long of a flight to the Beacon Research and Development Center, maybe thirty minutes, but it sure was miserable. Wisp had to force herself to slow down, though. Raindrops hurt like a bitch at over 100 miles an hour with no windshield to stop them. As she neared, she swiveled around the back and landed on the roof so as to avoid drawing too much attention. Of course, she was dressed in dark colors and cast against a dark, cloudy sky, so fat chance there. Drenched again, her shoes squeaked as she touched down. She looked around, finding no rooftop entrance. Actually, she was the highest thing up there. When lightning struck, she suddenly felt conscious of the fact that the next one could be for her, and jogged over to sit horizontally at the side, focusing a repelling bubble around herself to keep from getting even more wet.
"Seeds, find me a good way in. No entry on the rooftop, windows are all solid and don't open," she relayed.
"Give me a minute... Yep. You're kinda screwed, Wisp. Building schematics don't show anywhere that will lead you to where you want to get in. I've got an entrance in the back by the loading docks, but it won't lead into the lobby. You'll have to take the front door."
"Shit..." she muttered, thinking about how she wanted to approach the situation. She couldn't just waltz right in the front door. Well... she could, but it wouldn't be a smart idea. Breaking one of the windows might hurt someone, and it certainly make the guards protect their VIPs a little harder, a.k.a. Ms. Carver, and it might risk an incident. Goddamnit, all she wanted to do was talk to the old bat.
Wait... fuck it. It was a masquerade ball, maybe they'd give her an inch. It totally might backfire, but she was sick of thinking about it. Front door it is.

Pheonix

A miniature star surged between the hands of a meditating Pheonix as he sat in his old friend's backyard. It was a pretty trashy yard, but to him, it had been much of his childhood. The entire neighborhood had been his childhood. It was one Finn had never really wanted to be a part of. Mikey winced a bit at the thought, his composure shaken slightly. The star grew slightly out of control for a moment before shrinking back to its original size, once more contained.

Michael Regel, much as the star he had conjured into being, was a swirling tempest of emotion. He didn't know what path his life was about to take, even less than he had when he first came home from prison. Within that sphere of emotion was even a twinge of fear. The police would soon know he, Michael Regel, was clearly Pheonix, or they would be pretty damn certain. Everyone he knew would be interrogated, most would offer up nothing of use, but then his brother would be put even more at risk. If Mikey continued operating with Finn, the police would probably draw conclusions from the duo's actions, such as their varying heights, and connect the dots.

Michael Regel wished things could be different. He couldn't continue to work with Finn and put his brother's connections unnecessarily at risk, especially considering the Architect would want to hunt them down if Mikey didn't turn the flash drive in. Of course, he planned to bring the drive to the Architect tonight, on the hunch that they'd probably be at the carnival. Whether or not this action would cause the Architect to try to kill him for being late, he didn't know. It didn't matter.

Michael Regel's normal life would forever be that of a fugitive, wanted for numerous murders. He could never relax his guard again. He would always be seen as a psychopathic murderer. Wisp very likely thought exactly that of him. Mikey sighed deeply, the star growing between his hands, only it didn't shrink this time. The man still had not made up his mind about this superpowered woman who apparently had balls of steel. His dreams had been full of fire, water, blood, and emeralds. Part of him felt incredible, nearly uncontrollable anger towards her for beating him, and the other part still wanted to strip her mask off and kiss her. Finally, the flames of the star melded with Pheonix's body as he stood and thought, I can't let that happen again. She can't get under my skin like that again. Though the thought counted, Mikey doubted how well it would hold up if tested.

Nonetheless, he made a trip to Walmart, purchased a replacement costume just like his old one, and returned to his friend's home. Pheonix placed the borrowed clothes on Johnny's clothing, and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror once more as he slung his katana over his shoulder. He couldn't allow Johnny to be involved in any of this either. He'd already done enough as the man poked his head through the bathroom, "Still The Pheonix, eh? Your brother's tattoo really does symbolize you."

"I suppose so," mutter Mikey as he pulled his mask up and stared at his blue-eyed, pale stretch of skin between the black bandana and hoodie over his head and the mask. "I'm serious, man. No matter what happens to you, you always rise from the ashes. You beat everything that comes at you. Kick some ass," with that, Johnny returned to his livingroom.

Pheonix said little to his friend or his friend's sister as he left their home, hoping to never have to return again. The farther away his family and friends were, the safer they'd be. He tossed the hard drive in a dumpster, keeping both flash drives on him. One would be given to the Architect at the carnival, once he found them.

Hours later, he appeared in the crowds surrounding the masquerade ball. Considering it was essentially a costume party, he assumed it wouldn't be any trouble staying inside. The problem was getting inside. Mikey flowed through the crowd like water, knowing full well he could steal and pickpocket countless jewels from the gowns of these women, but he held back. Instead, he simply pointed at the long drapes adorning a high-class woman walking along the carpet to the entrance. The ends lit up with flames, causing a small panic to ensue and distracting the guards. Plenty to slip right in.

Pheonix continued melting through the crowds, brazenly displaying his secret identity under the "cover" of it just being a costume. In some ways, it was just a costume. In any case, he had an Architect to find...

Officer Collins

"The fucking address was a dud!" yelled Elizabeth at no one in particular as she fumed in her office. A SWAT team had hit the house and found it completely empty, abandoned for years in the ghetto. The Executioner was a crafty son of a bitch, a rat that was incredibly hard to catch. The information from the repair shop had yielded little more than a series of times and information about a masquerade ball. The ball was one of Collins' few leads, but it apparently wasn't enough to warrant any attention from the police, especially considering her screw-up with the address. SWAT wasn't cheap.

Elizabeth grumbled as she got into her cruiser and drove down to the ball, planning to investigate it herself and watch for anyone who might strike at the rich and famous there. The last thing she needed was a hostage situation to add to her growing list of worries. She parked far away and simply walked in her police uniform, assuming it was enough of a costume to pass, especially considering she was Officer Collins. Her name was supposed to, or should, mean something to the people she protected.

She arrived in the middle of a commotion, apparently over a burning dress. Asking a few people what happened, it had apparently spontaneously combusted... And she didn't believe in spontaneous combustion unless... Pheonix was involved. The officer presented her credentials and entered the ball, keen on finding at least one of the bastards she was hunting.

The Executioner

Malcolm donned his armor, checking his loadout three times. An assault rifle, shotgun, multiple frag grenades, flash bangs, C4, dozens of magazines and tons of ammunition for the rifle and shotgun. That was his standard loadout. Tonight, he added a SAW with multiple boxes of ammo, as well as attaching an underslung grenade launcher to his rifle. He climbed down into the sewers and disappeared, planning on some major fireworks tonight...

Gabriel had left the bank some hours before by the time he had arrived home. Changing his clothes in the same alley and walking back out into the public, face pale white. Out of the years he spent as a monk when he was a kid, he learned how to condition his body against stress. He was able to take a punches, kicks, and even stab wounds and be able to feign wellness. But these powers he had developed... They were a whole new ballgame. The stress they caused his body was unreal, but it always seemed to flow smooth while he was doing it. Then minutes later after he'd stop for even a moment and he'd be floored. It wasn't as bad when he was controlling water, but just a little bit of his own blood was like crazy.

When the abilities first came to him he only knew of the water. He had went to the ocean and tried to see how much he could carry at once and it wasn't much at all. A buckets worth, maybe two if he tried hard enough. He spent a couple of days on the ocean shore meditating and doing the monk thing he almost never did anymore. He practiced with the water and found creative ways to work it. He couldn't really control much more than a few gallons all at once, but he could juggle. He could move some and let it fall, move more, let it fall, then go back to the first bit.

That was the same kind of juggling he was doing with his life right now. He had to take care of Jacob, Jacob pushed him to save the world with his new abilities, his father was always dragging him into business meetings so he could know how to run the company when he inherited the company.

Gabriel shook his head to disperse his thoughts and pressed a button on a set of golden-colored gates that led to his beach house. The sound of Jacob's voice rang through a speaker on one of the gate's collums.

"GABE! Are you okay?"
"Yes Jacob. Open the gates, I need to sit down."
"Magic words."
"Jacob I swear to God."
"Magic. Words."
"Jac-"
"Gabriel. Say it."

Gabriel's brow lowered in an expression of agitation for a moment and he let out a long sigh. His face fell into a more relaxed countenance and he spoke, or rather he tried to speak and his voice caught for a moment. Jacob was an ass. Making his "adoptive" big brother and caretaker say such a stupid phrase. Then if you thought it wasn't all that stupid if you knew the story behind it.

"Human Space-Heater Kitten."

"Now was that so bad?!" Said Jacob with a giddy voice as the gates swung open for a moment to let him pass and swung shut.

Gabriel stepped along the cobblestone path up to the front door that Jacob had opened and was standing at. Jacob was short kid, probably 5'5". Naturally blonde hair, currently dyed bright pink and peach. Deep green eyes, button-like features, cute kid. Next to Gabriel they seemed like an unlikely pair of friends, but they weren't.

Jacob jumped toward Gabriel with a hug to which Gabe caught him and returned. Jacob then stepped back and Gabriel caught a glimpse of Jacob's hands... covered in oil.

"JACOB THIS WAS A GOOD SHIRT."

So? How do I look?” Troy asked as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the bar.

The look on Papo’s face was a cross between confusion and amusement. He raised a dark brow and stroked his bearded chin before answering. ‘Uhh…are you the playboy bunny? Or some kinda animal stripper?’ He asked curiously, his left brow never relaxing.

Troy looked himself over and cupped his elbow in one hand while the other he curled around his chin. He was wearing a pair of casual white shoes and black fitted slacks with embroidered slits up to the ankles. A realistic yet adorable white rabbits tail was glued to his rear end and bobbed up and down occasionally when he walked. His upper body was covered, barely, with a green vest and no shirt underneath. Even though the vest laced up in the front like a pair of sneakers, there was enough space in-between, exposing part of his toned physique. Around his neck was a red bowtie and hanging from his hip was a fake gold pocket watch. His hands were housed in supple white gloves, while atop his head there was a headband with white bunny ears attached, one mostly erect, the other one considered floppy. On his face he wore a simple, black eye mask.

“I thought it would be obvious but I guess not. I’m the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.” He explained.

Papo spoke through a light chuckle. ‘I’m just glad you’re not going as Alice.’

Troy grinned. “I was going to but I couldn’t find the right dress.” He teased.

‘So you’re really going to this thing huh? Just cause some kid sent us a text saying he got a lead on the Architect?’ Papo asked.

“Well it’s the only thing we have to go on at this point. You haven’t been able to get back in touch with him since I lost that damn briefcase. That whole day was a complete disaster…now’s our chance to get some answers.”

‘That kid’s text said it might also be a trap.’ Papo warned.

“I’m gonna have to risk it. If this has anything to do with the SXM, I need to know but if someone else has a problem with us, we need to solve it. Besides, it’s bad for business when too many people want you dead.” He shrugged coolly, flashing that alluring grin of his.

‘You realize you’re not gonna be able to bring your weapons with you right? There’s no way they’re letting you in with those guns.’ Papo explained.

“I know…I can still bring one or two goodies that should make it past security but if things really get hairy… then…I’ll just have to improvise.” Troy replied, moving towards the door once he heard the sound of a horn from outside. It was no doubt the taxi he had requested to bring him to the ball. “That sounds like my carriage. I guess I better go, don’t wait up.” He said with a wink before exiting the bar.

As he pulled up to the gates in his taxi, he looked around in awe, admiring the overall splendor of the grounds. The city’s upper crust had come out to fraternize with the commoners and for the most part everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Stepping out onto the red carpet, he felt like a prince. Secretly he wished he had someone to accompany him but he was certain the night would still be enjoyable.

He smiled as his photo was taken, along with the other patrons who arrived before and after him and once he reached the entrance, one of the security guards checked him for weapons.

‘Please hold still sir, I just need to make sure you’re not carrying anything dangerous.’

Troy smiled at him, eventually speaking up as he finished his search. “If you keep feeling me up like this handsome, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner first.” He said playfully.

The security guard cleared his throat nervously. ‘Ahem…uhh…you’re ok, please enjoy the party.’ He blurted out before moving on to the next person.

Once inside, Troy stood near the entrance, just soaking up the magnificence of it. A lovely melody floated all around him, while the smell of delicious pastries excited his senses. He glanced about like a child, noting all the decorations and lovely costumes. He always wanted to attend a party, ever since he was little. But there weren’t many opportunities to party while growing up as someone’s experiment, nor were there many after his escape and being on a constant run from his would be captors.

While wandering about, he had already forgotten that he was there for a reason. The Architect, Pulse, SXM, they were all but a fleeting memory. All he wanted to do was dance the waltz, eat expensive food and enjoy himself, so that’s exactly what he set out to do.

-Finn-

Weaving through the crowd of party-goers, Finn had never been able to afford the time or money to go to an event like this. His eyes scanned the expansive hall, which dwarfed the massive size of the Bank just one day earlier. From the entrance, there were six steps that led into the main, recessed 'ballroom' in the middle of the scientific research center. He momentarily thought about what projects and machinery could be hidden away upstairs, far beyond his ability to comprehend and costing an astronomical amount of money to develop.

The short, well dressed man grazed past the h'ourderves as a line of similarly clothed citizens flanked him on both sides. He took a few crab cakes, stuffed mushrooms and a strange quiche on a small plastic plate before heading off back into the crowd. A few bites into his plate of snacks, Finn was handed a flute of champagne from one of the nearest waiters who nodded politely at him. It was a wonderful feeling- almost everyone in the crowd was treating him far better at a first glance than he was normally ever treated.

A particularly squat and hook-nosed man cornered him in conversation at one point, the older gentleman reminding him strongly of the villain the Penguin from Batman. They spoke about stocks, the horse races and privatized real-estate, which Finn fumbled and stumbled through the entire talk. Aware that the Penguin was gradually realizing that Finn was not the super wealthy peer that he had suspected, the two parted on extremely awkward terms when they both went to retrieve another refill of alcohol. Trying not to stay in one place too long, he wandered toward a section of the hall he hadn't passed through yet.

"The silent auction is taking place until ten, sir." A rather attractive blond waitress told him as he neared the far side of the room.

Approaching the twenty-foot wide staircase on the other side of the room, he began to climb the shallow marble steps covered in rich red carpet. He passed a glass podium with microphone on a landing half way up the staircase and assumed that all attention would be focused on that spot momentarily. The staircase led to a balcony walkway that lined the walls of the main foyer like a horseshoe, allowing the super wealthy that strolled through the art for sale while they could look down on the other party members. Finn tried to keep his reaction from shock at the sight of some of the price tags attached to the paintings and sculptures. A set of jewelry he observed on the way past a series of elevators was particularly disappointing, as he could sense that it was made of more aluminum than precious metals and worth far less than quoted.

"Interested in anything particular, sir?" One of the auction attendants asked Finn when he was in ear shot.

"Oh-no, just trying to find my friends." He lied, partially.

Looking over the edge of the hanging balcony, Finn admired the lack of stress and anxiety that flowed through the laughing crowd. People in tuxedos and gowns mingled with old prom dresses, cowboys, dinosaurs and several 'sexy' police officers. Looking closer, the older Regel tried to scan the sea of people for his brother or Black Jack. There was no guarantee either were going to be there, but at least he knew that the Architect was going to have a hand in the evening- good or bad.

-Eudora-

Greeting and shaking hands with a ring of investors, Eudora allowed one of her employees to give a brief description of some of their current projects. Mostly based off of bio-organic production of energy, they explained that there was a certain breed of plankton that they were engineering to conduct electricity. Eudora looked at the small group's faces as they feigned understanding of the scientific principles and methods involved; they were as dumb as everyone else in the room, but just managed to accumulate millions of dollars in their lifetime. Half of the theories discussed were concepts she understood at ten years old, which gave them no excuse for ignorance, in her own opinion.

"Ma'am, it's time for your opening address." A personal assistant said lightly, almost afraid to interrupt.

Eudora nodded her head and begged her pardon to step away from the conversation at hand. Her elegant, extremely expensive gown glistened in the soft lighting of the chandeliers as she rounded on the staircase at the far end of the hall. Holding the front of her dress to keep from tripping on the steps, she looked like a masked Queen rising above the crowd. Silence began to fall one by one as she approached the modern glass podium that faced the sea of faces in her direction; she had averaged what felt like one speech a day for the past forty years, making this night no different.

"Good evening, friends, old and new." She started, her voice cheerily resonating off the walls as the crowd unanimously went still. "Thank you for joining us at the grand opening of our fair city's newest energy research center."

There was a polite round of applause, as the range of citizens made an audible thanks for the party. She waited for the thunderous round of clapping to subside, her wide smile breaking as she spoke again.

"I would like to thank the team of investors that made the speedy creation of this facility a reality." She said. "We are working on a clean and efficient method of energy development within these walls; in hopes that some day it would provide free power for every corner of our shining city. It's an exciting time, technology is developing at an exponential rate where the only limitations are our own imagination. Some of the brightest minds in our country have been recruited within these walls- men and women who have a desire to make our world a better place."

Another, shorter roar of applause caused her to pause momentarily.

"Not only that," she said, motioning one hand to the balcony, "but I am pleased to announce that all proceeds from tonight's silent auction will go toward funding math and science programs in every school within our district. As you are all aware, I believe strongly in the children on North Port and am confident that we can create a generation worthy of restoring our world and creating a glorious future. Thank you all for your attendance and contributions- this city is a better place because of each and every one of you."

Finished with her speech, the Godmother stepped back from the podium as the hall filled with the loudest round of applause yet. Taking a cue, several carnival performers stepped out from the edges of the room: stilt walkers, jugglers, gymnasts and ribbon dancers suspended from beams in the ceiling danced through the air as all the performers began to entertain the guests of the party. Silently guaranteeing that if any of the circus performing freaks touched her, she would have them shot and dumped in the bay, the billionairess walked back into the crowd she had just spoken to so sweetly.

'Christ, I could use a cigarette.'

-Phoenix

After the speech ended and the momentary motionless of the room sprang back to life, the crowd seemed to have been injected with a jolt of liveliness and joy. Laughing and clapping in small groups for the performers that wove through the crowd's enjoyment, everyone went back to drinking, eating and talking with one another. While the man dressed as a ninja made his way past similarly dressed costumed individuals, a delicate hand wrapped around Michael's right bicep. Not threatening or forcing him in any direction, the hand held on to him like an escort on the way into prom. Attached to the hand was an amazingly attractive woman. Roughly the same age as Michael, she had brilliant red hair that was cut just above her shoulders. Her skin was pale, almost porcelain in appearance, with peach colored lipstick and dark, smoky eye shadow that made her blue eyes stand out as almost electric in appearance. The girl wore a cream colored strapless dress that ended just above her knees, with a heart shaped bust line and matching white high heels.

"You're quite the brave little felon. Multiple murders just over twenty-four hours ago and you head out to stir up some more fun?" She said, her voice low and completely relaxed.

The girl pulled a stray strand of hair behind her ear, completely at home with her arm locked in the bend of Michael's elbow. She was one of the only people other than the staff at the party that didn't wear a costume or mask. Smiling warmly, she waved at a few of the guests around them, who, in a dumbfounded manner, waved back at the girl they didn't know. Her heels clicked lightly, masked by the sound of the classical music and gasps of surprise as the crowd watched the various performers.

"I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Mister Regel. He's very interested in speaking with you." She said, not skipping a beat before continuing in a conversational tone. "Don't worry, sweetie. This kitty won't scratch for now."

The redhead nodded to Michael's right, toward an area beneath the overhanging balcony. Sheer white fabric hung from the rails of the balcony and stretched all the way to the main floor, covering the area beneath the balcony and designating it as a spot strictly for VIP's. The girl continued to be led by Michael, allowing him to make the decision to head toward the VIP section rather than forcing him there.

"The name's Ruby." She added, pulling a few stray flakes of lint off of Michael's costume.

"So you've got no other way for me to get in?" Wisp asked dubiously.
"Well, there's a balcony on the eastern side, close to the lobby. They probably have it open for the smokers," came Seeder's response.
"Sounds like a plan to me." Wisp slithered over to the side of the building the balcony was supposedly at. Looking down, she could see just as Seeds surmised: smokers. Scaling down it slowly as to not have anyone look up and spoil her surprise, she caught sight of the barrel of a rifle. All at once, she about-faced and headed back to the roof.
"No go. Guards on the balcony. *Sigh*...Guess I really don't have a choice now," Wisp lamented. She took to the back, jumping off the building and floating to the ground. She took her phone, her camera, her cigarettes, and everything else important from her utility belt and placed them into the soaked pockets of her cargos. Thankful that she had the foresight to put them into plastic baggies. Afterward, she took her crowbar from her back and tossed it into some nearby hedges, following with her belt. Taking a deep breath, regretting having to get wet again, Wisp collapsed her bubble and let the rain splash down on her again. Couldn't make it too obvious that she had powers. Until she was inside, that is. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to resort to her powers at all. Just get in, talk to Ms. Carver, and get out. Simple. Just like last time. Wisp sneered underneath her facemask. Nothing was ever simple anymore, and she had a feeling that this would follow the trend.

Wisp rounded to the entrance nonchalantly, despite being soaking wet. Ugh, there was a line. Wisp walked for what felt like an eternity to get to the back of the line as the rain poured down upon her. At least the wait would give her some prep time.
"So Seeds," she spoke into her phone, the other ball-goers ignoring her as they did much the same, "What can you tell me about Ms. Carver? Anything special?"
"Just the same old story everyone knows. Entrepreneur, beloved face of the people. She's always been pretty smart, apparently. Nothing specific in the Wikipedia article, but she has multiple degrees in engineering and science and... Hold the phone... Her first husband died under mysterious circumstances. Apparently it was a big deal at the time. It allowed her to inherit what became Carver Industries, and she was the prime suspect for a while until everything just... stopped. They stopped investigating and all charges were dropped."
"Spooky. Anything else?"
"Just the robot stuff from the other day. You know about that, right?"
"Uuuhh..." Wisp hesitated.
"Y'know, this crime fighting thing doesn't work if you don't watch the news once in a while."
"Less talk more rock, geekbait. Gimme the details."
"Carver Industries just unveiled a new Terminator I-wish-I-mean home security slash personal assistant that you can apparently live out your iRobot fantasies with if you're rich enough."
"I saw that movie. No idea why Shia LeBeef was there. Whole flick coulda done without him. No, seriously, that'd be pretty scary if that stuff happened."
"I'm not accusing yet, Wisp, just joking. Right now, these are just robots."
"But the military's got'em, right?"
"What? Where'd that come from?"
"My dad's in the Air Force. Think about it. This company just came out with a robot capable of doing ordinary human things. You think they'd sell it to the private sector first and not the military?"
"That's... Wow, I'm kinda surprised I didn't think of that."
"Means they might be weaponized. Robots with guns equals instant Skynet. Score one point Wisp." Hope smiled beneath her face mask at the prospect of outsmarting the hacker.
"Well, not necessarily. You're being paranoid."
"I'm being bored so I'm fucking with you instead. Seriously, I'm wet, I'm miserable, I just need something to talk about. Hold up, I'm almost at the door."

Wisp lowered her goggles and the bandanna around her mouth and smiled at the mook at the front door.
"Kinda wet out here, huh?" she casually joked.
"Don't I know it. Please take off your belt, take everything out of your pockets, and spread your arms. Hope sighed, and did as she was told. Of course, he didn't find anything, but he still wanted to give her hell for her paintball vest until she adamantly refused to take it off, claiming it to be part of her costume and he just gave up. Pulling up her goggles and bandanna, Wisp wandered into the main foyer. It was a magnificent piece of work, alright. Fine glass, marble floors, elegant chandeliers, the whole nine yards. Business men and heiresses alike scurried about, mingling, dancing, dining on fine cuisine. It was enough to make her sick.
"Damn I hate rich people..." she muttered. The cost of the catering alone could probably... hell, she could probably live off that for a whole year. Wisp meandered about the crowd of the wealthy people of Northport, along with the not so wealthy. At least the ball was equal opportunity. She noticed two things that interested her right off the bat. First, the silent auction. That struck a chord. Not that it was out of the ordinary, just that someone might want to crash the party and steal some of it. The entire event was one big target for thieves, and she'd bet her life savings that someone with talents like hers would try to take advantage of that. Good thing she was here then. Secondly, the platform with the podium. Of course, a speech was in order. And she knew just who would be giving that speech.
"Think I might've found her. I'll keep you posted, but stay listening," she spoke to Seeds.
"Try some caviar for me," he sounded back from her headset before going silent. Wisp hung around for a little bit longer, avoiding interaction with the other ball members and similarly being avoided. Her 'costume' wasn't really something to seek out, and she really didn't want anyone asking in the first place. The gravity-bending heroine decided 'what the hell' and actually took advantage of what Seeds said that she should, pulling down her bandanna and taking a bite of caviar with saltines. She almost spit it out immediately. Fishy, bitter, and vile. People actually enjoy this stuff? She reached across the table and downed a glass of water as Ms. Eudora Carver appeared for her grand entrance.

---

Wisp clapped with the rest, although less enthusiastically. That was pretty cool, free energy, and to anyone else it would be but a pipe dream. But not to Carver Industries. She was almost impressed. Maybe that electric bill could go on hold permanently. Of course, not next month. Maybe next year. Still, pretty sweet. She smirked when the carnies came out, swinging from the trapeze on the ceiling, walking on stilts. Amateurs. She'd be cheating, but Wisp could flip circles around any of those yahoos by now. As Eudora descended the steps to mingle with the crowd, Wisp kept track of her and followed. Always a couple of groups away, barely noticeable among the throng of the rich and costumed. She kept a tail up until she found her chance: when Ms. Carver stopped to speak to her loyal brown nosers. Wisp frowned. They formed a ring around her. Like the scavengers they were. Becoming impatient, Wisp approached with a powerful stride that signaled to everyone else to get the fuck out of her way.
"Ms. Carver..." she stated, almost accusingly, loud enough to pierce the crowd and draw their eyes. Once full attention was on her, she put up a gloved hand and signaled with her finger.
"A word?" she not so much asked more than she demanded.

Eudora looked over Hope as she approached, taking in the details of what the younger woman wore to the gala, admiring that she came as a mix between a surf-boarder and paint-baller. Placing a delicate, laced glove on the old bat next to her, the business tycoon stepped away from the small ring of wealthy guests. Taller than Wisp, Eudora approached and opened her arms, gesturing toward the patio balcony the vigilante had previously considered climbing onto.

"Care to join me for a breath of fresh air?" She asked sweetly. "Dare I say, you already look like you've been thoroughly soaked to the bone."
"Tell me about it," Wisp seethed. She had nothing against the old bag, actually kind of liked her. But she hated being wet, hated waiting, and hated being surrounded by hoity toity wasps. God knew she could go for a cigarette right about now. Wisp decided it best to keep her intentions to herself until they were in a more private setting, and so kept silent, save for her skate shoes squeaking on the marble.

The unlikely pair crossed the room side by side, parting most of the crowd on the way as soon as they caught sight of Eudora's silhouette. They stepped past the well dressed security guards who nodded politely, then exited into the crisp night air. It was still raining heavily and a low rumble of thunder greeted them, previously masked by the sound proof building. They didn't speak until well out of earshot of their fellow guests.

"What is it that I can help you with?" Eudora asked, breaking the stretch of silence. "Obviously not a question for your college newspaper."

The platinum blond host snapped her fingers- an attendant on the balcony ran over with a tray of cigars and cigarettes, lined in rows of varying flavors and strengths. Eudora selected a rather long, thin cigarette from the far end; as soon as it reached her lips, the attendant lit the cigarette and moved the case over for Hope's choice of tobacco.

Wisp placed two fingers on the case and brushed it aside. She weren't no charity case. Besides, rich people didn't carry her brand. Prickling at stepping out into the humidity once more, Wisp fished into the pocket on the side of her leg and produced a half-crushed pack of Newports and a cheap Bic Mini in a plastic bag. Pulling down her bandanna covering her face, Wisp cupped a hand over the flame and took a deep, calming drag, breathing the smoke out through her nose to dance in the night air.
"You seriously don't know who I am?" she questioned incredulously. Wisp spun around and hooked a thumb to her custom Double-U emblem sprayed on the back of her zip up hoodie.
"Ringing any bells?" she asked again.
Even considering the circumstances, the Godmother admired the girl's moxie- she had a spine, that was for sure. When Hope motioned to her makeshift emblem, the businesswoman nodded in understanding. Of course, the young vigilante had been on her radar for the past few days. Ever since Hope had taken it upon herself to search the streets for criminals, the birds that whispered in Eudora's ear let her know a general idea of the girl's capabilities.

"Oh, I'm painfully aware of who you are, young lady." Eudora answered, taking a deep drag of her own cigarette. Exhaling the cloud of smoke into the downpour outside, a flash of lightning lit up the night sky.

"Amazing, isn't it? Something that just fell from the stars being capable of changing so many lives." She looked Wisp up and down, a smile playing off the corner of her lips. "I suppose it was the will of the heavens, who was chosen to be graced with such a dangerous set of abilities." She stopped again for a beat. "Don't worry, I won't be turning you into the authorities, but the public is getting sick of your kind's little shenanigans across town."
Wisp looked up through her goggles at the old lady, her remark striking a chord with her.
"They're not my kind. Just some dumb, greedy motherfuckers who just got as lucky as I did and don't know how to handle it." Her tone of voice annotated her displeasure. So this is the way it was gonna go, even this early. Suddenly people start manifesting powers, and it turns into some 'us versus them' bullshit like that X-Men movie. Well, all the X-Men movies. Wisp despised it. It was stupid, ignorant, and paranoid, and it was exactly how the masses were going to act. But then again, the majority of people were stupid, ignorant, and paranoid.
"So then you know why I'm here?" she inquired, attempting to goad a response from the older woman. Wisp wanted her to tell her as much as possible before she ever opened her mouth. A good poker player keeps her ace in the hole, after all.

"Of course, my dear." Eudora answered. "Genetico is in possession of the item that seems to be responsible for everyone's current. . . abnormalities. It was obtained by us and remains private property that we can legally use for any and all research possibilities. In fact, we've officially been designated permission by the government for our work from this point on. As of this morning's absorption of The Tower by Carver Industries, I assumed most of the crazed super heroes in this zip code would be after me at some point."

It was hard to tell how much was true and what could have possibly been a lie, Eudora's expression gave no sign of deception or ulterior motives. It was strange that all it took was one question for all of the information to be laid out. The tycoon honestly couldn't remember the last time she had spoken with someone who wasn't entirely a 'yes man' that agreed with her every whim. It was an exhilarating change of pace.

"I assure you, if it's the meteorite you're after, I'm afraid it's not hidden away beneath my dress." She added plainly, her light southern tone bubbling up as she crossed her arms playfully.

So The Tower was part of Carver Industries now, was it? Interesting stuff. She hoped that Seeder was paying attention to this conversation instead of his goddamn videogames, but couldn't signal him in any overly obviously way. She'd just have to play this one like the night before. Go it alone. Again, hopefully, tonight wouldn't be as bad as the last one. So what did this mean? Uuuhh... damnit. Thinking was Seeder's strongsuit, not hers. The Tower and Carver Industries popped up in those locations on her map of what she got from Seeds, so either way whoever hired Loche Security to guard the van must be on this same side. Right...? And Loche Security was bad news, so it meant that this was either a closely guarded secret or illegal. But she just said they had government permission. Wisp smelled a rat. And a liar. If they had government aid, then the government would have been involved in guarding the van. Cops or military, not roughnecks. It didn't add up. She was hiding something, but Wisp didn't know what. She'd have to choose her words carefully...
"I don't think I could give a crap about your space rock, lady. It's none of my business, and I don't care. I do care about someone cutting up about half a dozen people in my city. So I'm gonna be straight with you..." Wisp took another drag off of her cigarette, trying to find the right way to word her next phrase.
"So you have the meteorite, and I know you have the meteorite. Who else knows? That bank robbery that happened yesterday? Along with the armored car heist? That wasn't a coincidence. Somebody spent time and resources planning that, especially using a few of 'my kind' to do the job, and it's getting people killed. So who wants it? Don't play dumb, I know you know."

Eudora was surprised at the lack of tact and subtlety in the conversation with her young and strong willed guest. She was used to the phrases with multiple meanings and polite hate for one another when it came to the discussions of business meetings. Out in the rain, where she knew no one would be there to quote her for the front page of the paper, she felt completely relaxed in the damp night air. At the most, she was silently shocked that the vigilante had no personal desire to see the meteorite for herself. Of course, this girl was running off of her suspicions, which most likely were painting the Godmother in an unfavorable light.

"Controlling fire, moving objects with their mind-" Eudora inhaled her cigarette, her tone still light but avoiding the main question. "Reports of a girl in school who caused an aneurysm in her teacher's brain, a boy who happened to sprout quills during a football match and even a woman in prison who just can't get a scratch on her. It seems like any of these lunatics with powers could have used them to find out information on me. But there's one in particular on my radar."

"Other than John Bakker, who seems to have skipped the party after our corporate merger, there is one other. So far he goes by the name 'The Architect'." The older woman looked back at the crowd before continuing. "I've been hearing reports on him since the stone arrived and he developed an unnatural obsession with it. It was enough to convince Bakker to employ some extra guards on our behalf and an attempt to distance ourselves from the police force- in case there were any unofficial leaks. The Architect is well connected and looking to get the meteorite for something -I don't know what- but this building was just perfected to keep it safe-"

The Godmother cut herself off. It wasn't entirely obvious if she had meant to reveal that the stone was hidden away in the building for better protection. Her eyes didn't seem to confess either way, so she decided to continue the conversation in a new direction.

Pausing momentarily, the look on Eudora's face eased away from being so tense as she made sure her diamond covered mask was perfect. "You know, I do have some spare gowns in my office. I'm sure you could use an evening to meet a nice boy, rather than run around looking like a half-drowned teenager. Besides, a proper lady doesn't wear slacks after five."

Wisp smirked at the old bat. Not so difficult after all... but she wasn't ignorant enough to miss all the jibes she was throwing out at her.
"I think I'll pass..." she stated in a more lighthearted tone. "Like you said, all the crazed superheroes in the zip code should be after you, right? I don't think I could kick nearly as much ass in a gaudy little dress." Wisp wandered over to the edge of the balcony, peering over the edge and to the rest of the city. The lights of moving cars through the rain, a rumble of thunder on the horizon. If only they knew how much everything was going to change. With this... meteorite... thingy, and the new superpowers emerging. Nothing would ever be the same.
"Frankly, I'd be surprised if I was the only one here tonight." She turned back to Ms. Carver, letting that little idea sink in. She was dead sure she wasn't the only one there tonight. Of course, it was all speculation, but what were the chances? Murphy's Law. Whatever could go wrong, would go wrong. Ms. Carver's statements were a little hard to prove, but they made sense enough, and she did have the charity work going for her. So that confirmed it. She was more of a potential high-value victim than doing anything illegal. Probably. Whatever, if she wanted to bend the rules to advance her energy research, Wisp couldn't give a shit. Nobody got hurt. And if they did, she could always come back to deliver a firm hand. But right now? All just corporate drama. Not worth her time. Almost not worth her time. This meteorite and everything involved with it was still a death magnet, and if push came to shove, Wisp would have to get rid of it to stop people from getting hurt. Power did awful things to people.

"I'm not trying to grill you, Ms. Carver," she spoke reassuringly, "Truth be told, I kind of look up to you. I went to Jefferson High while you were putting the new cafeteria in it. Hell, I've even shaken your hand before, but I don't think you remember me. You do a lot of good for the city. But this meteorite is trouble, and you know the police can't handle all those other freaks out there. Send a maniac to catch one, y'know?" she joked, quoting one of her favorite Sly Stallone movies. She took a few steps toward the old woman, smoking her cigarette down to the butt, wasting no tobacco from the cancer stick she bought with hard-earned money.
"I came here tonight for two reasons: to find out who the ringmaster was that's killing people in my city, and to make sure everyone here tonight was safe. I didn't come to put you to the stake or steal your shit." She walked past Eudora to the Smoke-Out, depositing her spent cigarette within.
"And I don't expect you to tell me what the meteorite does, but I have one last question..." Wisp spun around casually, bringing her bandanna to cover her mouth again.
"You hired on Loche Security to guard those flash drives. You could've gone with any other private security firm without getting the cops involved, but you went with the shadiest one in Northport. You even hired the Executioner, knowing full well what he's done and the collateral damage he would probably cause. Why? I'm pretty surprised, it doesn't seem like you to take such unnecessary risk against the people of this city, endangering their lives like that. So I'm guessing that whatever Phase Two is must be worth the potential loss of life... or it's illegal. Or you got careless, like people with too much power often get. So why did you hire them and not, say, Aegis Co. or P.D.U.? Respectable private security firms." Wisp intentionally laid down all her cards at once, attempting to gauge her response against them. She knew about the flash drives, about Loche Security, and had an idea about Phase Two. Know she knew that the meteorite was in the Beacon Research and Development Facility, and that the Architect was her prime suspect. But that didn't answer all the questions. She'd have to see what Seeds had to say about it, but the further down the rabbit hole she went, the more lost she was becoming.

"Unfortunately, I had hoped this wouldn't have to come to light," Eudora said, audibly trying to maintain an even tone. "I've known John Bakker for years. We've opened business, joined in on fundraisers and greeted the masses together longer than you've graced God's green Earth. That's why the absorption of his enterprise was a personal and painful situation. . . You see, John's been suffering from increased dementia, paranoia and delusions in the past few months. Recently, it's gotten out of hand."

A crack of thunder roared louder than all the others before. "When the meteor struck a week ago, John took a change for the worse. He became reclusive, constantly agitated and convinced that he could trust no one. Since we had equal stakes in Genetico's discovery of the meteorite, he insisted on taking control of security detail. I was too busy getting the lab ready for tonight and allowed him to take care of hiring our teams. I'm afraid that his choice in hiring so many convicts was something we had to distance ourselves from as a company- as you can probably understand."

"That brings up a question of my own." She added, flicking her cigarette off the balcony where it was swept up by the wind and into darkness. The older woman's eyes calculated the young girl through her mask. "How do you know about Phase Two? Other than John and I, very few people were aware- we're talking out of employees in the thousands. Either you've been part of more than enough illegal acts to find that out, or you've been digging deep enough for some bad people to come after you."

Eudora smiled and clapped her gloved hands together. "But I'd like to think that you're a girl similar to me many years ago. Taking the world by the balls because you know best."

Wisp sneered beneath her face mask.
"A little birdie told me..." she cooed at Ms. Carver, sarcastic in her response. It'd be obvious that she didn't get her information from the usual sources. And yet... she didn't like Ms. Carver's responses. Digging deep enough for some bad people to come after you. Distancing themselves from the convicts they hired. Those weren't the kinds of things a beacon of light and hope for the city should be saying. Then again, reality was a bitch. How did the saying go again? Never meet your heroes? She'd like to believe otherwise, but... it might require a little more digging. Good thing she had her nerd slash shovel handy.
"Oh, I know I don't know best," Wisp joked, her sneakers squeaking as she waltzed over to the edge of the balcony once again.
"But I know good enough not to trust anyone who thinks they do." Wisp turned one last time, giving a half-hearted salute/wave to Eudora.
"Good night, Ms. Carver. Hopefully you never have to see me again." And with that, Wisp took a leap backward and plummeted from the building. Her fall was slow and gentle, and her shoes squelched as she touched down to the marsh that should've been a finely manicured lawn below.
"Did you get that, Seeds?"
"Get what?" came a confused response at the end of the line.
"Oh my God Seeds, you gotta be fucking kiddin-"
"I got it, I got it! I'm just messing with you, calm down. So our prime suspect on the hit is some guy called the Architect, Carver Industries is in possession of that weird meteorite that turned everyone into Marvel characters, which is right where you're at no less. John Bakker, CEO of The Tower is suspect for some of this dubious behavior, and he's going crazy. That about sum it up?"
"Almost. They're both a bit dubious. Carver just kind of... spilled the beans on the whole outfit. Like it wasn't a big deal. And I don't like how she waved off their involvement with Loche Security." Wisp began to wander around the side of the building, focusing to erect her waterproof anti-gravity bubble once more. God, why the fuck did it have to rain today!? Couldn't get wet enough yesterday, huh?
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Break in, take the records, get out? Also quesadillas for dinner," Hope claimed as she snapped her belt around her waist and shouldered her Crowbar of Smiting once more.
"Minus the quesadillas, yeah, pretty much. You wanna take the smart way or the hard way in?"
"Which way lets me beat in more faces per square foot?" Wisp smirked.
"The hard way. About half a mile down towards the docks. Guard station down there. No civilians, no cross fire. No problem."
"Sounds like a plan. Let's kick this shit!"

---

As soon as the girl jumped from the side of the building, Eudora's smile dropped just as quickly as her outstretched, waving arm. She took several steps to the side and snapped her fingers at the balcony attendant, who was about to clean the ash stash after each individual guest.

"Step away from that you cow." Eudora commanded, her tone almost unrecognizable in force.

Taking the lid off of the brass cigarette stash, the Godmother made sure to grab one of the cigarette packs off of the tray in the same fluid motion. She took the cellophane wrapper off of the cigarette pack and tossed the box away. Using the tip of her gloved fingers like a pair of pliers, she took the only Newport by the singed, smoldering tip. Placing the cigarette butt in the wrapper, she folded it twice at the top and snatched the lighter from the petrified attendant's hand. Singing the wrapper closed in an air tight container, the tycoon turned on her designer high heels and made her way back into the party, a fire of determination roaring in her stomach.

"David." She said, catching the attention of the Beacon body guard that was stationed outside the balcony. "Take this cigarette down to the lab. I want to know everything about this girl by the time the party is finished. Name, birthday, address, parents, diet and childhood hopes and dreams. Now, quick with you."

Ushered fearfully by Eudora's expression alone, the intimidating body guard exited like a frightened mouse. Eudora surveyed the sea of faces in the dry, well lit interior. This was an evening that she needed to be on extremely high alert. This Wisp was going to have wished that cigarette would have been the one to kill her by the time she was through with her.

Wading through a sea of masked faces, Troy bypassed the suited waiters with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Stopping for a second to admire the mermaid ice sculpture on a nearby buffet table, he looked over the gourmet selection until the desert table caught his eye. He was almost left breathless as he saw mounds of cakes, pastries and little intricate delicacies in a fanciful display of color and sweetness. He suddenly felt like a kid in Candy Land. Unable to control his own movements, he grabbed a transparent disposable dish and began piling different confections on top while sampling a few before they could even hit his small plate. The sugary treats were just that and elevated his mood as he sighed in ecstasy.

Troy was too busy indulging his sweet tooth to notice the appearance of an older distinguished looking gentleman beside him. He wore a standard tuxedo with a white eye mask and black top hat. In his lapel was a fragrant red rose which added a nice splash of color. He used a black cane to walk with, although it was obvious it was just for show. The older gentleman appeared to be in decent shape, with salt and pepper hair and even though he wore an eye mask, his handsome features were persistent.

‘If you keep eating all those sweets, you won’t fill out your costume so well anymore.’ He warned in jest.

Troy turned to face the stranger and smiled after sizing him up. ‘Oh you don’t have to worry about me, there’s plenty of things I can do to stay in shape.’ He replied suggestively.

The older man chuckled. ‘Is that so? And what would that be?’

Troy pensively rolled his eyes up into his head as the music transitioned from one song to the next, one with a lighthearted yet invigorating melody, perfect for a waltz. ‘Like dancing.’ Troy responded, while grabbing the man’s hand and leading him towards the dance floor.

Perhaps it was because everyone was wearing a mask or perhaps people were more open minded than he thought but Troy noticed there were significantly less judgmental looks than he had anticipated, as he dragged the older man towards the center of the dance floor.

‘Oh uh…I’m really not in the mood for dancing.’ He protested, to which Troy responded. “Oh come on, it’ll be fun.”

‘I really must insist.’ The older man said more nervously as he realized they were now in the center of the dance floor.

Troy once again brushed off the man’s apprehension. “Oh live a little…besides, I have to work off all those sweets don’t I?”

Before the man could pull away, Troy swept him up in an elegant waltz, adding a few steps and gestures of his own. Instead of being paralyzed with shock, most people moved out of their way, admiring the beauty of the dance between the rabbit and the man in the tuxedo. Soon a crowd had formed around them and Troy smiled as he moved in perfect rhythm with the music. The waltz was both elegant and graceful, his steps were so fluid and natural that he even made his partner look like a professional. He wasn’t satisfied with having just one partner though, he was somehow able to change partners mid dance, dropping off his first partner in one location then grabbing a wealthy looking older woman from the rim of the crowd to continue the dance. He did this at least two more times with two other wealthy looking women of varying ages, before finding his original partner to complete the endless waltz. When the music stopped, applause erupted from the crowd of admirers.

When the next song began to play, the crowd filled in the gap it had created, once again slow dancing with their original partners. Troy causally made his way from the dance floor, in the direction of the desert table again but was followed by older gentleman who pushed his way through the crowd. ‘Wait…hold on a second!’ He called before grabbing Troy by the wrist. ‘That was amazing. You’re quite the dancer, you must be a professional.’ Troy smiled softly and let his eyes drift off to the side…”Well…something like that.”

It was then, that Eudora had taken the stage to make her speech, garnering the attention of all of the partygoer’s. Troy stood next to his new friend, listening as Eudora promoted her squeaky clean image and how charitable she was. Folding his arms against his chest, the look of skepticism on his face was almost tangible.

“What do you know about this Eudora Carver?” Troy whispered to the man in the tuxedo without taking his eyes off her.

‘Well I know she’s a very powerful woman, probably the most powerful woman in this city. She practically owns the Genetico company and has her hands in anything else worthwhile around town. If you’re looking to get on someone’s good side, it’s hers. She has connections to anyone who is anyone… but good luck with that, I’ve been trying to get a meeting with her for months. She has charity events like this all the time, the woman is practically a saint.’ He replied, barely taking his eyes off of her as well.

Troy narrowed his eyes on the woman of the hour with a distrustful smirk. “Let me give you a little advice…try not to get too caught up on what’s on the surface.” Troy warned.

‘Why do you say that?’ The older man asked with a cocked brow.

“Because people who make themselves out to be so benevolent, are usually the ones who are the most vicious.”

Before he could give a proper reaction to Troy’s comment, the sound of applause flooded in the great hall as Eudora finished her speech and was immediately replaced by the acrobatic entertainment for the evening. Giving his attention back to Eudora and her entertainment, the man in the tuxedo applauded. ‘So what’s your name?’ The older gentleman asked, finally turning his head to look at the white rabbit, however there was nothing there but empty space.

Troy made his way up the elaborate staircase towards the area where the auction would be held. Eying the acrobatic performance as he ascended, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and collided with the super known as Pulse. He didn’t immediately recognize the bank robber, having never seen his face, though Pulse might recognize him, even if he was wearing a bunny costume.

“Oh excuse me…I didn’t see you down there.” He teased, as he tried to step around him.

Pheonix

The ninja wove his way through the crowds before coming to a temporary halt and listening to Ms. Carver's speech. The man quietly thanked God that the speech was finally over so he could get this job over with. He wanted to be done with all this as soon as possible. As he walked in search of the Architect, he was suddenly grabbed and tensed his body for a moment until he recognized the person holding onto him. An incredibly gorgeous woman was attached to his arm and leading him, and a bold one at that, openly talking about his exploits. Honestly he was less interested in what she was saying than what she was wearing as he walked over to the VIP area, taking a moment to pause in front of the fabric.

Looking at her, he smiled beneath his mask, "Well I wouldn't mind if you scratched me, Ruby. Maybe later, yeah?" He promptly made his way through the fabric, doubting the woman would actually be interested. She seemed to be one of those snooty high-class types who believes themselves to be above everyone else.

Officer Collins

The officer strolled around through the crowds looking for any potential assailants, but it was nearly pointless. Everyone was in costume and if they weren't, they were wearing masks. The party did seem to unnerve Elizabeth though as she noticed all the guards. The people here seemed to be expecting something, perhaps because of all the recent drama over the Supers. She grabbed a shrimp as Ms. Carver spoke, Clean energy huh? Seems interesting, but how? Collins shrugged off the thought and returned to her search. The Executioner would no doubt be obvious, but perhaps the bank robbers were here, somewhere...

The Executioner

The rattle of ammunition carried through the underground tunnels of the sewers, as well as thunderous footsteps. The armored man paused for a moment at a crossing, his body lit by a few shafts of light passing through the grate overhead, "Left here... Almost there. Hopefully this place can tell me something..." The tank disappeared once more into the gloom.