December 21st, 2017. Exactly five years after the Awakening. Five years after every man, woman, and child had been thrust into complete darkness for five seconds. Fives year after every electronic device on Earth suffered catastrophic malfunctions. Five years after spontaneous storms and earthquakes ravaged the world. Five years after mass starvation, plague, and chaos ran amok.

Five years after the Heroes arrived. Five years after Zenith took to the skies and thousands of men and women were given powers beyond comprehension. The secret magical world that had been lingering under Humanity's notice for hundreds of years has been revealed. The previously unbreakable laws of science have been bent.

Never before has humanity had so much hope. Never before have they been so inspired. Never before have their dreams of heroism and justice been so close to being realized. For now they know that magic is real. Now they know that men can fly. Now they know that not all is lost, and that Humanity has a chance to save itself from greed, corruption, sickness, poverty, ignorance, prejudice, and hate.

But the fate of the Earth balances on a knife's edge. Even as men and women use their powers and abilities to protect Humanity, others seek to exploit their powers for their own dark ends. Criminals wield lightning, fire, and weapons more terrible than mere firearms. Extremists no longer need explosives to spread terror in the name of their cause. Organized religion has been rocked to it's core, as adherents reevaluate their core beliefs. Supernatural creatures pursue dark agendas in the night. Entire nations are broiling in civil unrest. Never has Humanity been in so much danger.

The fate of the world will be decided by the League of Heroes and its actions. All the hopes and dreams of the world rest on the shoulders of mortal men and women. They will either fail and bring forth a Dark Age too terrible to comprehend or they will unite, put aside their differences and become true Heroes.

Chicago, Illinois
December 21st, 2017
12:00 PM
The Hall of Heroes



Steven Knight, the man known to all the world as Zenith, stood inside the Hall watching the crowd massing outside.

"There's a lot more than I thought there'd be."

Eric Freeman, the mysterious and even mythical vigilante Pariah stood next to him, "We've invited almost every Hero in the nation. And the rest showed up anyway. Perhaps part of it had to do with you being the one to send the message."

"You never know. It could be the free food," quipped Ariadne Cristos, the heroine and demi-god known as Olympia. The three of America's mightiest heroes watched as metahumans, supernatural beings, and even a few exceptional normal humans crowded in the pavilion. Large and seemingly endless tables of food had been laid out and peaceful music drifted over the scene, amplified by the Audiokinetic Metahuman Sonata. The air was kept to a comfortable temperature with pleasant breezes by Nimbus. And Evergreen's flowers bordered the pavilion and perfumed the air with their fragrance. The League wanted their debut to be absolutely perfect.

"I do have some reservations about some of the members." Pariah had his face covered as always, but Zenith didn't need his x-ray vision to see the scowl on Pariah's face.

"You wouldn't be you otherwise," Zenith smiled in an attempt to lighten Pariah's mood. It didn't work.

"We have some 'reformed' villains here today, with quite a few strays from abroad. A lot of these heroes are untested and have been almost strictly street-level until now. And almost all of them are unstable. We haven't worked with a quarter of them. This is to be our League? A bunch of misfits and outsiders? They'll get killed in a few days of active duty. If they don't do it themselves."

Zenith nodded solemnly, "That may be true. But they are what we have to work with. If they can't do it, then no one can. Besides, that's why you're one of the Instructors."

Pariah grunted, "I'll still have to keep my eye on some of them."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Olympia spoke up, "When are you going to make your big speech anyway, Steven? You need to inspire the troops and all that."

"In a little bit. But first, let's get a look at how they deal with each-other."

The three heroes fell silent and went back to observing the heroes who would be Earth's best hope of survival. Hopefully they'd make a good first impression.

Certainly, it must have been a cosmic joke. A slap in the face of hope to Michael Ophan, otherwise known as "Neutro". From giant hermit to open hero, he had found his tall stature entirely unchallenged. Where once he had considered that the Awakening could affect anyone else with similarly gargantuan changes, Neutro had come to terms with the simply fact that only miraculous powers were the mainstream here, and his height would not find a common compatriot.

Simply put, he was distraught at the fact that no one present at the banquet shared his freakish size. A few, maybe a handful, were tall, though seemed naturally so. Even then, they did not sport such inhuman appearances as he. At eight feet tall, and of a onyx color, he stuck out like an intimidating sore thumb above the crowd. Nearly anyone could see him from anywhere within the gathering. Michael appeared uncomfortable to a degree, keeping his arms tight at his side, though his expressionless visage conveyed little in the way of emotion. At the very least, no one seemed brave enough to look at him as anything other than dangerous and strange anyways. He calmed himself with some nonexistent deep breathing.

Neutro found his way to a less crowded location amidst the swirling bodies of colorful costume schemes and trinkets, granting a much greater birth for his own movement, now able to keep his legs and arms at a reasonable distance from his torso. With bright white eyes, he surveyed over the scuttling beneath him, picking out an occasional figure he had heard of before. Most, however, were completely unknown to him. Surely he would get to know them soon. One in particular brushed against his leg and hip, and finding it as sturdy as a lead slab, practically flipped around on his heels and hit the floor. Michael could only apologize and help him up. The hero refused the aid and continued on, a plate of food in his hand.

There were no chairs, no tables, and no benches big enough for him to sit down, and the awkwardness of standing was beginning to settle in his mind. Surrounded by so many strangers, many of whom he assumed were either more capable than he, or more famous, he felt sorely out of place. His image, of course helped little.

He could only continue to scout out for someone -anyone- similar in situation.

Stood squarely in the shade, off to one of the more thinly-populated sides of the gathering was Oni, the demon hunter of monsters and men. Every inch of his body was covered, not leaving an inch of skin exposed. A black motorcycle helmet with a polarized visor, thick leather riding gloves and a red nylon scarf covered his usually uncovered areas. He stood with his arms crossed, silently boiling as he stared out over the crowd. There really was no consideration, was there? Not like he expected it, but still, a mass formation at high noon? What a pain in the ass.

"Yare, yare..." he muttered into his helmet.

Even now he surveyed the mass assembly of "heroes" for people of interest. A living statue, towering over everyone else caught his eye, but seemed little more than a novelty. Other brightly-colored loons pranced about, but Shin could barely tell one from the other, much less gauge their temperament. He didn't smell anything unusual or worth noting, though he could hardly smell anything from inside the damn helmet, anyway.

His gaze wandered over to the three that stood above the rest; the founders of this farce, Zenith, Olympia, and Pariah. The first was powerful, but his motivations were obvious. This gathering was the height of his ambition, so there was little to fear from him. Olympia was similar, though her (alleged) divine heritage could throw a strange angle on her motivations. Pariah was the wildcard. He seemed out of place between the two superhumans, so one could only question what his plans were. The silent ones were always the trickiest. Also, he looked like a ninja, and Shin hated ninjas.

Sat at one of the larger tables was Samantha Carpenter aka Arachnid one of the many heroes of New York City. The homicide detective tucked into her lunch and surveyed the gathering in front of her. The sight both amazed and terrified her, everyone from metallic giants, to powerful sorcerers & from the corner of her eye what appeared to be a man in biker outfit. The sight of the founders however took her breath away as she considered them to be among her idols and the chance to work with them was a big reason for why she had flown out to attend the league's opening.

FInishing off her food she got up and started to wander around the pavilion taking in the scenery and the music. The whole thing made her extremely relaxed and yet at the same time she was terrified. Her time in the gang and subsequent time in juvenile hall had made it difficult for her to open up to people and that was sure to hold her back with the league. She knew her temper and other issues would prove an issue as well and knew she'd have to work on them, less they bring harm to her new teammates.

Suddenly she heard a thump in amongst the general background chatter and turned to see the metallic giant bending over to help up the guy who had apparently tripped over him. Swallowing she decided to try to make at least one friend here, at the very least she could spin the poor thing a place to sit. Making her way over towards to figure she nervously extended her hand before saying.

"Hello, I guess for now I'm Arachnid and I'm a spider based heroine from New York City. I couldn't help but notice you lumbering around and if you like I could spin you somewhere to sit."

So this is it, huh? Some of the most powerful, dedicated, and fashion challenged men and woman on the planet, all gathered into one room. Daniel woulda loved this. Tommy Springsteen, better known as the lightning-slinging hero 'Hi-Voltage', stood a little apart from his supposed peers, content at the moment to merely watch the others in their interactions. Truth be told he felt that even if did desire to speak to them that he would struggle to find any common ground with the assemblage, besides the obvious fact that they all had far too much time on their hands.

Arms folded across his chest, he wondered to himself if he'd ever felt so out of place in his life? Did they do what they did out of a genuine desire to do good? Or were they more like British-Bulldog, fighting the 'good fight' in the pursuit of personal fame, glory and riches. Or like him were they driven by regret and shame, tortured by some mistake in their past. Did they feel a pang of guilt every time they heard their name in the news, or avert their gaze from every picture of themselves righting some wrong, feeling that it could never be enough? God I hope so. Surely I can't be the only bastard in this room, I mean look at that guy wearing full motorcycle leathers and helmet on a day like today! That nutcase looks like he gets his kicks by punching kittens.

The simple truth was that Tommy was feeling a bit self-conscious, standing just outside of this crowd wearing his supersuit. He had gotten used to wearing the distinctive, figure-hugging, blue jumpsuit in public, but here it was different. Here everyone else had their own costume, and he was sure they could see him for what he really was, a sheep in wolfs clothing.

What made him stay though was the fact that he was certain that most everybody else here was thinking the same thing. Sure, some of them probably got a kick outta wearing a costume and being the idol of millions of regular people, but Volt reckoned a lot of the people here had probably come to the same conclusion he had; that the public liked their heroes to look like heroes. It made them feel safe. Or at least he hoped that was the reason, and he wasn't actually surrounded by a group of superpowered cosplayers. He'd seen enough of that nerd shit with Daniel to last him a lifetime.

And besides, he didn't have anything to prove to anyone here. He'd been at the hero game for as long as anyone else, longer than most, so he knew he'd paid his dues. Besides, I'm not here for them. I'm here for Obsidian, and they're a means to that end.

So he stood there, listening to crap elevator music, waiting for the three founders to get this show on the road and trying not to draw any attention to himself. Not that's going to be difficult in this crowd, even while wearing this get-up.

Phoebe was feeling incredibly awkward here. She had just heard about this "hero gathering" yesterday on Daily News America running alongside an ad for a new line of jeans that come with tail-holes. She wasn't even invited to the party--only the big-shot heroes were--and even though Zenith said any hero could come, she didn't feel like Belladonna belonged her. Belladonna was a small-time vigilante who's jurisdiction covered Austin, Texas and it's suburbs. What was she doing in Chicago, trying to sign up for the real-life equivalent of The Justice League?

Phoebe wanted to be here. Her mom said it was a good idea. Her cat said it would at least be helpful to meet other heroes, maybe others from Texas. The rowan tree encouraged her to expand her horizons. So she came, after spending an hour weaving up a teleportation spell in the form of a cute lil' snowman magnet. It would serve as a constant gate between Austin and Chicago, in case she was accepted into the League. If not...well, she could come for the pizza. Speaking of pizza...

Phoebe sat down at an empty table with a plate full of pizza. She tugged off her ski-mask and proceeded to stuff her face. It helped to be doing something instead of awkwardly hanging around other costumed people like last year's Comicon.

Sonja Simpson felt underdressed.

Which was objectively ridiculous. Even before the Awakening she had always prided herself on a professional appearance. After taking on the salaried position with Barclay-Hoffmeyer, she had been able to step up from off-the-rack clothing to expensive tailors. The tan suit she wore now was one of her best, tailored especially for her in London. But the way these people were dressed made her look absolutely plain. The Kevlar, spandex, and leather ensembles (most of which in their entirety cost less than the sunglasses she wore) were in all sorts of gaudy collars and outrageous fashions. She cringed as one serious-looking man walked past with an enormous two-foot long collar extending past his head, making him look a little like a dog with a veterinary cone. She had to fight hard to suppress a giggle at that, but she had to admit that it had a certain grandeur and drama to it. Showmanship, that's what she was missing.

Maybe she didn't belong here, she thought to herself. As if on cue, a woman in neon pink and yellow tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, do you have any gluten-free options?" The stranger spoke imperiously, loudly, clearly. Sonja sighed to herself. Of course.

"I'm sorry, I'm not one of the caterers," she said patiently. Thank God she had already dropped off the case of wine she had brought as a gift for her hosts- excellent Nortons, Missouri's greatest contribution to viticulture. Otherwise there'd be no getting out of this one.

The stranger's brow wrinkled. "But you're dressed so plainly," she whined, confused. Sonja refrained from explaining exactly how much a genuine Nutters of Savile Row suit had cost, and instead turned and walked away in search of better company.

It wasn't the clothes, Sonja decided as she milled through the crowd. Hell, that giant made of metal didn't even wear any. Sonja thought she recognized him, half-remembered from some news broadcast. From the Bay Area, maybe. There was a man who let his deeds speak for him, not his clothing.

That was it. Her record as the Spirit of St. Louis spoke for itself. She had taken down Dragan Musić and his whole Bosnian Mafia. She had liberated Forest Park when the 21st Century Schizoid Man had taken it hostage. She had magically dueled the alliance of the Somnambulist and Dr. Salieri in the haunted caves beneath the Lemp Mansion. And of course there had been the invasion of the catfish people. Yeah, she had earned her right to be here.

With a little more spring in her step, Sonja stopped at one of the empty tables. A young woman was there alone, enjoying a few slices of pizza. She was dressed plainly but practically, just black street clothes. For some reason that appealed to Sonja, and she sat down across from the younger woman. "Pizza any good?" she asked with a smile. "The Chicago style is pretty unpopular back home, but maybe I could give it a shot."

Elise wanted to gag, this place was full of people who hadn't taken this whole gig seriously she could tell. Many of the names and costumes these people wore simply appeared gimmicky at best, most likely simply put together for comedy. Some appeared to be serious and even experienced in the field, holding a certain demeanor about themselves and even allowed most of those types to begin to cluster. From her little bench she could see little groups assembling, those who did it for the fame and glory stood together on her left attempting to one up each another with the incredible feats they can do, the ones who didn't take this as a real profession stood around and mocked one another in a clever fashion howling in laughter which appeared to be the majority of them. From day one, it appeared this situation had attracted mostly fools but here and there some oddities attracted her attention both good and bad. Then a thought occurred to Elise, which of all the beings here held the most pathetic power?

The thought caused a stifled laugh escape her mouth before one of the more arrogant appearing persons next to her looked down and scrunched his face off muttering something under his breath that caused a young woman next to him to snicker looking over in Elise's direction. Instantly her mood deteriorated and she slumped in her seat, at least the place offered food she hadn't eaten in a week and the stupid outfit she wore cost all the money she managed to scavenge. Truth be told, the costume was nothing more than a leather piece suit with various belts attached on for god knows why. Scanning down her outfit she began to feel a bit out of place, "I should've never came" she mumbled out loud unknowingly, causing the group around her to begin laughing at once shooting gazes back at her. This was already off to an awful start she thought, before Elise kept her gaze down and began shoveling some more spaghetti in her mouth.

Blast Girl adjusted her goggles. So... a League of Superheroes, huh? That was pretty awesome! Oh, she had no doubt that she was going to get invited. After all, she'd been pretty dedicated to defending the innocent and upholding justice. Even as a little girl, before her powers awakened, she was already working on martial arts training. She was going to find a way to help justice even without becoming a superhero! ... And as luck would have it, not only did she gain powers, but her older sister(not big sister, there was a difference between the two firmly displayed by her older sister's attitude, Blast Girl felt) made the Blast Knuckles. To help her be a superhero, even! She was kind of a rookie amongst the other heroes, she'd only been working for a year...

But what a year it was. Robberies, foiled, street thugs tied up and left for the cops, time and time again clashing with Maestro and stopping her theater crimes(how did she keep getting away?), then there was the whole thing with Mister Crystal... well, he wouldn't be hurting anybody locked up in max security, that was for sure. So, Blast Girl definitely thought she was worthy joining up with a bunch of other heroes to help uphold justice all over the world! And there sure was a whole lot of other people here... it was a pretty colorful crowd! There were all different kinds of people, and some of them had pretty neat costumes, she had to say. Kate had designed hers, and it felt like it fit the 'Blast Girl' name, really.

Cheerfully, to pass the time, Blast Girl turned to the nearest person. It didn't matter who it was, she wanted to start a conversation.

"Hey there!" she declared, happily, "I'm Blast Girl, who're you?"

Hi-Voltage twitched as a group of 'heroes' seated close to him all began laughing. The laughter was fine, he didn't have anything against laughing, in fact he generally encouraged laughing. The only problem was that the source of their laughter seemed to be a raven haired girl sitting on a bench across from them. She seemed to be taking it hard, which only increased their amusement. So this is the brave and the bold, the world's newest and greatest protectors huh? Nothing better than bullies, getting their kicks outta teasing that poor lassie. Can't say I'm too impressed.

The Lightning-slinger found his ire building, the groups attitude wearing on his already worn nerves. Truth be told, even when he was younger he hadn't been a big fan of bullies. Not that he did much about it back then, as keen as he was too keep his head down and keep outta trouble in school. Now though, now he had powers, and as Daniel had been so ready to teach him if you had the power to help someone then you had an obligation to do it. Volt had been slow to learn that lesson, but he was proud to say he was a pretty strong proponent of Daniel's philosophy now.

He left his position of solitude, striking out for the bench in question, coming quickly to the girls side. She was pretty, in a delicate sorta way, but her looks were detracted by the fact that she seemed to be in the process of shovelling enough pasta down her gullet to choke a horse. Wouldn't have thought a girl your size could put all that away, but there we have it. He faked a cough to grab her attention, chastising himself at how cliché that was.

"Afternoon Miss," he opened, just a hint of his Scottish accent making itself apparent "Name's Hi-Voltage, but most people just like to call me Volt, mainly on account of how ridiculous it is to have to call someone Hi-Voltage. Mind if I sit?" he gestured to the seat next to her with an easy smile. There was plenty of empty chairs around the room, so she was free to tell him to feck off and mind his own business if she wanted, but he reckoned she looked like she could use a friendly face. He had thought about dealing with the problem more directly (his old man woulda championed that choice, but then he was a savage at heart) but Volt imagined be-friending her was a better option than frying her tormenters. After all, Zenith probably imagined this to be a friendly gathering, and I don't want to be perpetuating the stereotype of violent Scotsmen.

Tom was dressed, for the most part, sharply. His perfectly-fitted, deep red jacket clung tight to his figure, as did his skinny black trousers. A tie hung round his neck, the faded, camo patterns, contrasting with the jacket. However there was one glaringly unusual addition to his ensemble. Tom had considered it wise to keep his identity hidden and stick for the most part to his vigilante persona. As such he was wearing a mask. The mask was clearly Chinese inspired, and looked somewhere between a lion, a man and a demon. Through the eye holes of the mask protruded two faintly-glowing orange lenses, set into a dark metal casing. If you listened closely you probably would have heard a faint humming coming from them.

Tom found this all rather entertaining, like a fancy dress parade for the gifted. Not that he had anything against fancy dress parades, all fun and game she thought. Not to mention it made it rather easy for conspicuous people to blend into the mass of brightly coloured costumes. Tom couldn't help but wonder what people where pursuing this path for, what could their goals be. Was it as shallow as fame and fortune? Who knows, probably a million different reasons, either way the end result was the same. This was supposed to a landmark event, an event that would send metaphorical waves across not just America, but the entire world. All this considered, it was very suprising how little Tom cared. It wasn't that he didn't want to care, or didn't realise the significance, he just somehow could not summon up the excitement. When he reached deep down into his mind to find the glimmer of hope, all he found was the desire to return to his library and his books. It was so loud here.

It was then that the girl sitting next to him turned to him, asking his name in an honest, cheerful voice. He turned his lenses on her, looking her up and down. there was something different from so many of the people around them, it was something that Zenith and Pariah definitely had, but he couldn't place his finger on it. This merited further investigation.

"I'm going by the name Wenchang around here." He said, in perfect English, though his Chinese accent was slipping through. "Pleasure to meet you Blast Girl. What brings you here?"

"It's nice to meet you, too, Wenchang!" replied Blast Girl cheerfully. It seemed like he was a Chinese hero, which was pretty interesting. Blast Girl thought it was cool to get to meet heroes from all over the world who had showed up here, after all. Really, the blonde girl had no end to her enthusiasm for the situation she was in. Not that she had an end to her enthusiasm any time, really. It was so fantastic, the idea of forming some kind of team... the only thing Blast Girl hoped is that it wouldn't keep her away from her older sister and her upcoming college too much. So far she'd balanced her life and crimefighting out pretty well, so she was certain she'd keep being able to do that. She might just have to find some excuses to leave during college classes a few times...

"I'm here because I got an invitation," she continued, smiling brightly as she spoke. It was pretty much one of the most awesome moments of her life, getting that invitation, she couldn't really deny that. "Well, that and I wanna help out! I mean, it's the fight for justice, right?"

Well, the food was good. Of course Chicago-style pizza tasted good in Chicago. Phoebe might just keep the teleportation spell, but adjust it to a pizza place. She took a bite of the supposed "Italian-style" pizza. Not nearly as good as the Chicago-style ones. She pushed that slice away for now and munched on the others.

Suddenly Phoebe felt a change in the breeze. She turned to see someone sitting next to her--a well-dressed executive type in a tan suit. She seemed way too dressed up to be one of the heroes here. Maybe a caterer, or an "undercover" journalist trying to get interviews out of the shy types. Phoebe swallowed and adjusted her to chair to face hers. Phoebe wasn't on good terms with the media; she tended to get so nervous that she ruined the whole interview, or cause something freaky to happen. She really preferred the email-interviews. Heck, even Skype was better, since technically they weren't face to face.

Still, the lady was doing a good job. She refrained from asking any obvious interview-y questions, and instead asked about the quality of pizza. Phoebe nodded, "The Chicago-style is great, but the Italian could use some work." She responded. Phoebe bit her lip, then added a shaky introduction, "I'm Belladonna, Austin, Texas based hero. Well, witch, really. I'm a magic user."

"Magic? No shit," Sonja said with a laugh, trying to put the young woman at ease. "What are the odds? I'm the magic type myself." Sonja pushed her Dior sunglasses up, cleared her throat, and pulled a bright blue Cupid's Dart from nowhere, generated out of thin air. A harmless trick, that required virtually no expenditure on her part. One of the first things she had found herself able to do, even before she had gathered as much faith as she had now. Sonja handed the flower to Belladonna, a friendly gesture.

"I'm from St. Louis," she said with a grin. "The Spirit of St. Louis. You can call me Still if you really want, but Sonja works just fine for me." She gave the girl a friendly pat on the shoulder, got up to grab herself a slice of the pizza Belladonna was enjoying, then rejoined her. "See, back home, pizza is always done real thin and crispy, and is cut into squares, not triangles. Quality over quantity, right?" Sonja took an experimental bite of the pizza, then made a face. "Chicago stuff doesn't really catch on in St. Louis. That's, like, a thing."

Sonja set down the plate, pushed it aside. "So you're a magic user! I gotta be honest with you, the last few ones I met were trying to kill me. I don't get to talk shop often. So what's your area of expertise? Elemental? Necromancy?" Sonja knew she was babbling, but her excitement at finding someone with whom she shared a little common ground was bubbling over. Even if the League chose not to take her on, might as well help one of the new kids start out.

Shin stopped pacing about in the shade and set off to scout around through the crowd. Alk of this waiting around had made him rather restless. He wasn't normally this impatient, but the sheer concentration of superpowered freaks had him on edge. At the very least, he could start his reconnaissance early. Many of these "heroes" were all too eager to show off or brag about their meager powers, making them easy to size up. He wondered how their generation had grown naive enough to think that such actions were sensible. The wise hawk hid its claws, after all.

A few he had managed to spy in the crowd included a self-proclaimed spider-themed girl, with abilities that she then demonstrated. Shin could already see himself squashing her like a bug if she got in his way. Others only mentioned their names, but that told enough; Hi-Voltage for instance. Didn't take a genius to figure out his game. He listened in on a pair of apparent magicians. Sorcerers and Witches he mistrusted, especially these foolishly confident ones that even gave out their true names freely. Magic was inherently dangerous, and those that underestimated it were often unstable.

A somewhat familiar sight caught his eye, and Shin pushed through the crowd to get a better look. A man in street clothes and a mask of clearly oriental design. He introduced himself as Wenchang, Chinese god of wisdom if Shin remembered correctly. The presence of another Eastern man intrigued Shin, and so he stood some distance from the man, listening in on his conversation with some little girl that he had zero interest in.

Oh, so this girl wasn't a reporter. That calmed Phoebe significantly. She was another magic-user, too, as evident from the summoning of a strange blue flower. Phoebe accepted it, a bit wary at first, but after seeing the flower was just a flower, and not some sort of spell in disguise (spells had a certain "aura" to them that even normal people can pick up. A spell object always seems...suspicious.) she carefully placed it on the table, making sure not to harm the petals.

The lady--Sonja--came from St. Louis, and freely gave out her real name. That was rare. Then again, Phoebe felt like she might have seen her on TV. She must be one of the vigilantes who don't keep an alter ego. There was something about her personality that made Phoebe relax. She reminded her of her grandfather, a natural people person, who could make anybody feel good. Those people are rare.

"Yeah, it's hard to find Chicago-style anything in Texas. Must be the distance." Phoebe mused, taking a quick bite while she pondered over Sonja's next question, "Uh, I guess my area's chants. All my magic comes from really long ceremonies with lots of words. My spells are over different stuff, and I can hear and see all sorts of new things. Can't seem to pick up elemental magic, though. God knows I've tried. Never done any necromantic stuff, for moral reasons."

"So, what about you, Spirit of St. Louis?" Phoebe asked, "Is your magic based on St. Louis?"

Elise nodded to the man who had introduced himself as Hi-Voltage, as he plopped down next to her she felt her body tense up. Who the hell is this guy, and why's he sitting with me? Intent on stuffing yet more food in her mouth to prevent the man from talking, she found herself staring down at an empty plate with an unfamiliar fullness in her belly. Sighing she looked over at the guy and studied him slowly. Volt appeared extremely tall and even sitting he towered over Elise, his suit reminded her of something from the 90s and he clearly was as amateur as she was. Smiling she spoke with a confidence one wouldn't expect of her "Hey there! Name's Eclipse, nice seeing a friendly face. So tell me erm.. Volt. What do you do? I mean like, powers wise."

Over his shoulder, Elise could see the group that had been shooting glances at her for a while now. It appeared to be only three individuals all relatively similar in fashion, most likely a trio of friends who found out one another had powers. There were so many beings here someone or at least some of them had to be the strongest? If two people were inhumanly strong which would be stronger? Her mind began to wander off thinking of how a super beings powers could be limited then she began to wonder if she could take them in a fight. She imagined at some point in the future, she would find out but that was an adventure for another day. Elise's eyes focused back in on the man in front of her, Volt, blinking slowly she realized she didn't notice if he had been talking or not. "Excuse me, sorry did you say something? I kinda went somewhere else for a second."

"Fight for justice, of course..." Tom repeated slowly, seeming to weigh each word carefully. The girl was young and almost relentlessly excitable, it made him feel old. Excitement was not exactly familiar yet. So far in his vigilante career he had been careful to formulate a plan first, never get caught up in his emotions, and then execute the plan precisely. This meant he had never fought anyone he wasn't confident that he could beat. Maybe that was why he didn't feel excitement.

Tom was distracted from his train of thought by catching the eye, well the visor, of someone in the crowd. The man was taller and more muscular than average, even among this crowd. The motorcycle helmet he wore made it difficult to ascertain anything about him. It may just have been paranoia but Tom got the feeling that the man was listening to him. Tom felt a slight shiver go down his spine, he had a good instinct for danger, and he felt that this man was strong. Very strong.

Tom shifted himself from his chair, and turned enough so that Blastgirl was not cut off, but also enough that he could properly face the motorcycle helmet-wearing man. "Hello, the name I'm going by is Wenchang, may I ask yours?" Tom's perfect elocution not completely masking his accent.

The lass's entire body seemed to tense when Hi-Voltage sat, not a promising start. Maybe he should have just left well enough alone instead of sticking his nose in. Still he was here now, in for a penny, in for a pound as they say. The girl seemed to take a few seconds to study him before answering, an uncomfortable experience as far as Volt was concerned. Still, it wasn't everyday someone found themselves at a gathering of primary-coloured superhero's, everyone's sense of etiquette was bound to be a little off. He took the time to study her right back. She was short but well muscled, able to carry off skin-tight leather quite well, which is no easy feat. The amount of heroes and heroines he had seen that chose to go out in public decked out in formfitting leather costumes that they just didn't have the body type to look good in really was astounding. Just because you might have superpowers does NOT mean that you also have the body of a supermodel.

"Hey there! Name's Eclipse, nice seeing a friendly face. So tell me erm.. Volt. What do you do? I mean like, powers wise." she finally asked with a smile. A strange question, all told. With a codename like his he woulda thought it obvious what he did. Wasn't like he had picked the name for its ambiguity, in fact quite the opposite. I wonder if anyone ever asks Batman what his favourite flying mammal is? He choked out a laugh before he answered.

"I generate and manipulate electricity. . . " He fizzled out when he realised she had stopped listening, probably before he had even started speaking. Szymon always told him he was pretty boring for a superhero, but he'd never figured on just how much. A couple of seconds passed of Volt just sitting there awkwardly, trying to make up his mind on whether he should get up and leave or not, before Eclipse blinked and seemed to re-join him in the land of the living.

"Excuse me, sorry did you say something? I kinda went somewhere else for a second." she sounded genuine, so Volt tried not to hold it against her. Still, anymore of that and his feelings might get hurt. This girl is almost as weird as Strix, and that's really saying something cause he is bat-shit crazy.

"Nothing important, obviously." He answered with another smile "Just that I shoot lightning bolts at bad guys. But what about you Eclipse, what brings you here?"

Strix sat by himself in a corner of the room. It wasn't that he disliked people or anything like that exactly. In fact his alter-ego was known to be quite sociable, hard-partying even! That said, it probably helped that his alter-ego happened to be a multi-billionaire and head of a huge multi-national conglomerate and was thus almost expected to mingle and socialize for all sorts of reasons. His current look on the other hand was more 'terrifying creature of the night' meant to invoke something half-man half-giant predatory owl than any sort of rich, friendly sociallte. In some ways that was the way Strix liked it.

Besides, from here he could get a good view of the room and really observe everybody else. He believed in the idea of The League, at least. In fact he was discreetly funding much of its' activities. That said, he still didn't know too many of the people here, and despite assurances from others that all of them had been carefully vetted beforehand he still couldn't let his guard down until he had confirmed whether or not they were dangerous with his own eyes. After all, any of them could be agents of The Conspiracy.

The Conspiracy was everywhere and had fingers in everything, slowly moving the world towards their inevitable goals. The increase of super-villain crime rates over the past few years, the recent rise in economic inequality and poverty, sinister rumors about water fluoridation, actual water fluoridation, the beginning of viral music videos and East Asian Synthoid Pop as musical phenomena, The Girl Scouts, they were behind it all if anyone ever bothered to look. But no one ever did bother to look, no one but him.

Naturally there were a few heroes here he'd been already able to confirm as clean in terms of involvement including Hi-Voltage, Pariah, Zenith, and a few others. But until he was sure, he would stay here and observe, ready to seek out spies wherever they were.

It was exactly this sort of attitude that generally got him labelled an insane conspiracy theorist. It was also what made him arguably the World's Greatest Detective.