Mason put his M16 back together as he listened to the conversations. "So Volt and Hot-Rod are here. That makes sense." He stopped, petted Chance and whispered to the dog, "Observe them boy." The M16 was back together and he ran through the motions of loading and unloading, making sure that everything was in working order.

Chris hissed when she gingerly touched the bruise sitting there angrily just under right eye. Well at the very least she had been able to return the bruise times by a large number Chris thought with a smile into the mirror. Deciding to stop toying with the bluish mark on her face, she could visit the medical bay quickly soon to get it fixed and check later, Chris turned with an upward stretch to her suitcases sitting atop her lovely wide new bed.

She had already had a shower, changed and lugged all her bags up her (not in that order) so all that was left to do was unpack. Chris stared at the bags and, quite possible, they stared back. For about half a minute this odd staring contest ensued as Chris wondered whether she should go downstairs and chat with some people or hide away in this lovely comfortable room and unpack.

“Nope, c’mon.” Chris sighed to herself on her way to her door. “I can’t just hide away from society. I have to get out there and out really make an effort to make friends, no matter how exhausting it may be.” She slung her small bag over her shoulder and then once again confronted the mirror.

She looked…presentable? That bruise on her check seemed to have gotten a bit bigger since her last check which caused Chris some concern. “Yeah, better go see a doctor about this.” She said before smoothing out her red t shirt and moving her hair a bit over the right side of her face to try and cover it up. She looked silly but at least it kept the bruise out of sight.

With the door closed, and presumably locked, behind her Chris wandered the huge corridors and winding stairwells back towards the Common Room which had thankfully by now emptied somewhat leaving a few groups of people milling about doing their own thing. But Chris wasn’t too interested in them, she was looking out for a friend of hers whom she had met at the first League opening and the two of them had talked a few times since. In fact once he arrived to give a hand with a rowdy metahuman in her little town. Passing by a man fiddling around with a gun, something that always made Chris a bit nervous, she spotted a dog and gave it a wave and a smile before moving on because dogs were cute and deserved such things. Ah ha! There he was. Chris grinned when she saw Hot Shot chatting away with Hi-Voltage and one of the new recruits. She hadn’t gotten to know Hi-Voltage that much but seeing as he was also from the UK Chris felt a little closer to home around him.

Walking up to then Chris opened her mouth to say hello but as she drew near and caught a whiff of the delicious foods stacked sky high on a plate her stomach growled. Very, very loudly with a stabbing ache.

“Umm, hi.” Chris waved with a very sheepish grin, whilst also making a mental note to grab some food as soon as possible. “uuh, h-how are guys?”

Agnes followed the quickly-dissipating fire, lined up before her like a trail of candies leading into a trap. Was this individual trying to entrap her, steal her away for all eternity? Well if he could make flames as easily as he ran, then Agnes wouldn't really mind if she was spirited away. The pyromaniac known as Killjoy had arrived quite late, clearly, towing in hands and under her arms several large cases of... stuff. A guitar case hung from one hand, though its distinct clamoring inside indicated something quite different than a guitar rested inside. A huge cloth sack of pointy bits was slung over her shoulder, and under each arm pit an elongated cardboard box with 'DON'T TOUCH OR ELSE' scrawled on them in sharpie rested firmly. Agnes rushed along and up the stairs of the League, whisking right past a pair of paused individuals at the heights of the steps and right into the main entrance.

With a heavy sigh of relief, Agnes practically tossed her belongings aside, blocking the clean path at the foot of the doorways. She took in a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips, looking about the immense lobby. Already she could tell she'd have fun here; the hallways were long -perfect for running down. The rooms were spacious -perfect for running around in. The materials were expensive -perfect for blowing up! No, no. Agnes vocally quieted herself, as if shushing a baby and smacked her cheeks back and forth with both hands a few times. With a haughty spring in her step, Agnes perused away and for the Common Room; that's where people hang out, right?

Her stuff was left in the lobby, practically blocking the doors from swinging open. This was a place filled with superheroes, right? Who in their right mind would steal that stuff, besides herself? Ah! But before she fully left, Agnes sprinted over to her guitar case and fished through the pile of clothing, chip bags, and indescribable tools for a small device. Agnes retrieved a fist-sized detonator, complete with a smiley-face on the ignition button. How could she meet new people without her best trick? Killjoy stuffed the detonator into her pocket and continued on her way, leaving the explosion of belongings, once again, still strewn about. She'd come back for it later.

With a bow, Agnes threw herself into the Common Room, announcing her presence with a loud and drawn out 'Hello'. Few seemed to take notice, and those that did offered attention for but a brief glance. Exactly as she expected. She'd be more interesting later, now it was up to her and her detonator to break the ice. She looked about for prey, her eyes clearly squinting and judgmental. Not any hero would do. She needed to get buddy buddy with someone cool.

Then what better person than Hot Rod? She did follow his scorch marks to the place after all. Agnes has heard about plenty of super heroes on the web and the television screen, and Hot Rod had always caught her eye, obviously, because of his association with fire. Next was the recipient of her ice-breaking tactics. Agnes found her gaze to Cordelia. She didn't know her, so it was likely best she messed with a newbie like herself. Agnes quietly and inconspicuously walked past the chair Cordelia was seated in. As she passed, Agnes dropped a few rock-shaped objects wrapped in paper at the back of her chair, too small and quiet as they hit the ground to notice. Leading her legs forward prior to her body moving, Agnes trotted off to Hot Rod's side, appearing out of thin air with a hand wrapped around his shoulder before he could even object. Being so much shorter, however, Agnes found herself angled sideways in an attempt to get the arm where it needed to be.

"Hey there, you're Hot Rod right?" Agnes kept speaking word after word, offering no pause for the man to respond, "Look, big fan. Love the fire. My name's Agnes, brand new here. Not very good at making friends, so I like to have an ice-breaker with me. Start off with a bang, you know what I mean?" She laughed heartily, but jarringly returned to a serious expression. Agnes took out the detonator and offered it to Hot Rod, her eyebrows raising and lowering amusingly. She was quite skilled at using them. Her grin was wide, eyes reflecting a distinct mischievousness that Hot Rod could easily deduce. Either she was playing a prank on him, or she legitimately had a detonator in her hands. If he was any aware of the people recruited by the League, he'd likely have already known about Killjoy and her tendencies. Most people wanted to trust her, but the caution was still there and for good reason.

Agnes gestured to the detonator again, pushing it closer to his chest. "Go on. It's fun. This one's on me."

SONJA

She chuckled as Destiny brought up their recent tussle with the demon Leraje in the suburbs. "Thomas, I gotta hand it to you, most magicians confronted with an actual Marquis of Hell would say, 'Golly, here's where I get to prove what a great sorcerer I am!' and start whipping up some kind of elaborate spell. You, though? You just hit him with a shovel. Villain Takedown of the Year."

Sonja grew more serious as she pondered his advice. Thomas was smart, and more than just a gentleman- he was a gentle man. Out of the entire League, he probably was the most interested in helping people in ways beyond the whole "punching criminals in the face" bit. "Well, a sabbatical won't work," she said, mulling over her options. "There's too much going on in the world right now for me to take a break. That wouldn't be fair to my teammates. A power booster seems impractical and too much a crutch. Maybe if the problem gets worse, but only as a stopgap measure. And I'm not going to the Fellowship. I enjoy my independence." She ticked options off on her fingers. "Obviously I can't ask the League to do more in my hometown, we've got a full plate as is. Drawing power from my surroundings- that sounds like an excellent idea, and I have no objection to learning a new skill. I'm not going to skate by forever on my charm and good looks, so might be good to learn some more practical magic."

She tried to sound more diffident than she felt with the last item. "Dragan Music is in Chicago, eh? Man, that guy. I have to give him some credit- no powers, but he's been giving the Saint Louis heros- me and Red Scorpion and Dervish and Cutlass- the runaround for years now. But obviously if Pariah says no I can't do that." Behind her sunglasses, she winked at Thomas. The gesture may have been lost, but plausible deniability was key. She didn't want him to know any specifics of what she planned to do. "You've given me a lot to think about, Thomas. I think I'd better be going, though- I haven't gotten any dinner and I'd like to meet a few of the new members." She gave the senior sorcerer a smile and a quick hug, then wandered off on her long legs, her heels clicking on the floors.

Already, wheels were turning in her mind. If she was going to take down Music she was going to need some help. While she would trust any other member with her life, there were only a few she would trust with a dollar, and even fewer she would trust with a secret. She set off for the common room, hoping to find at least one of them- a certain lanky Scot whose real name she didn't know.

---

SIXGUN

"Well, sheeeeee-it," Sixgun- or rather Fletcher Ross- said, looking over the Bosnian giant known as Bender. "You's a big-un, sir! You guys really want to be sure you're getting your money's worth, don't ya? I respect that. Besides, always was a fan of backyard rasslin'."

As Fontana led everyone out of the house and onto the grounds, Sixgun could hear Pariah trying to whisper fighting advice through the implant. He tuned it out, trying to focus on his own. He was a reasonably good fighter, he knew. Even Mike Johns had some praise for his abilities- grudging, reluctant, minimal praise, true, but praise nonetheless. And he had fought big men before. So he had this under control, right? Right?

As long as they didn't see through him and shoot him. Which seemed like a distinct possibility.

Finally, they stepped out into the cool air, the lake just visible in the gathering darkness. He nodded as the watching men formed a circle around them, a movement unchanged since school days. "Hey, Mr. President," he said, waving over the president of the Road Kings MC. "Mind hanging onto my stuff?" Sixgun shucked off the white jacket, carefully folded it, and handed it over to the biker. While it was true there was no honor among thieves, the man had enough basic decency to not run off giggling with another man's property. Next was a pearl-handled switchblade knife, and then the .45 revolver came out of Sixgun's waistband. He did a few fancy twirls, this way and that, before holding out butt-first to the man. Some habits were hard to break. Finally, he reached up for the spotless Panama hat, slowing pulling it off to hand to the biker to hold.

Except Sixgun didn't hand the hat to the biker. Instead he spun on his heel, whipping the hat through the air like a Frisbee, right into the Bosnian giant's face. The half-second of blinking confusion that would buy him saw Sixgun hurling himself forwards, then covering the last few feet in a baseball slide across the cool grass, one snakeskin boot lashing out.

One weakness of being as huge and musclebound as Bender was the inevitable strain on the joints. Especially the knees, supporting as they did such an enormous amount of weight, it wouldn't take too much additional pressure to cause a very painful injury, if not a break. And on the ground writhing in pain was exactly where Sixgun needed this man to be.

Never fight clean.

Cordelia wasn't sure if this guy was a total airhead or if he was trying to act macho and tough to prove a point-either way, she felt a sudden and compelling urge to annoy him. Cordelia had a grim feeling this urge would return later-perhaps around midnight, when she slid frozen piss under the crack of his door, making his room mysteriously and without a trace smell like an uncleaned urinal. Maybe his car would be repeatedly and without a sign broken into, hotwired, and moved across the parking lot, making him slowly question his sanity. Maybe she'd just put a little salt in his contact solution. Harmless stuff.

So, Cordelia let a look of juvenile comprehension spread across her face and she not-so-subtly tried to suppress a fake grin. "Oh. Hot Rod. Of course. Yes, I, ah..." she smirked. "I've heard of you, I suppose you could say."

After which she disregarded him and turned her focus back to Nessie, or Voltage, or whatever his name was. Christ, she was bad with these accents. She was getting one out of every two or three words, tops. The more he spoke, the more she grasped it, but it was still a bit to get adjusted to. He did earn a bit of her respect with insisting on his calling her Volt-while she thought the superhero names were grating, his general suspicion was reaffirming. So somebody here had some brain activity going on after all. She personally didn't mind her name being slung about, because it wasn't anything that could really be traced back to her-she didn't have a house or a job or anything with that name on it. Knowing her name didn't bring her enemies any closer to her, it merely gave them a tantalizing, just-out-of-their-reach concept to be annoyed by. And he seemed to, if not entirely genuinely interested in her (Cordelia generally felt it wise to second-guess the motives of everyone here, just out of habit. Who knows? Maybe she'd catch a mole and get lauded for being helpful or whatever).

Ah. The walking power outlet was irritated by Hot Rod, too. Hm. Another inkling of respect. Ah, I've gone soft. Next thing you know I'll be writing love letters to him. Volt was attempting to nudge him out of their conversation, which she personally didn't expect to work at all, but whatever. She'd dealt with upstart pricks before, and Cordelia had come out on top thus far. Well, she was still around, which she generally considered a victory. Gotta set the bar low sometimes.

"...hm." Assuming he wasn't bullshitting her on the "I'd stop doing this if I could" speech, that was interesting. Thus far, Volt was he only one here who hadn't seemed delusional, and while she was definitely suspicious of him, she was grudgingly forced to acknowledge the League's members as human at the very least. Well, superhuman-but human in all the important ways. There might be a chance to do some legitimate good-and while Cordelia was still walking out the (back) door the second shit hit the proverbial fan, it did make her wonder if there was a possibility to actually help people. Maybe de-escalate some of the gang wars without putting people in jail, without orphaning more damn kids. Figuring out a way for people to make a living without drug money or protection fees.

It was a snowball's chance in hell, but that was better than she thought the League capable of when she'd joined up.

"Hm. Can't imagine why I'd have trouble fitting in," Cordelia muttered to Volt, casting an aside glance at Hot Rod. "No....I...." she paused, realizing how damned long it'd been since she'd said this. "I appreciate it. I'm not really a touchy-feely gal, so I hope you won't be offended if I don't take you up on that offer very frequently, but...thanks." She gave him a curt nod of her head, trying to convey "I'm trying to not be a total asshole since you seem okay but also I really don't feel like talking to people here" as best she could. See, this was why she didn't talk to people.

Then half the fuckin' League had to come and bother her, and the smidge of optimism Cordelia had felt towards the organization quickly plummeted. First there was Pudgy, who seemed shy (shyness was only nice when they didn't half-ass it, when they were totally silent) and staring at her food. My food, bitch. Go get your own plate. Why was her hair halfway across her face? Cordelia wasn't exactly dressing to impress, but damn, how was she breathing with that mane in front of her nose and whatnot? She could've sworn she saw a dog move towards the door to the common room-Cordelia was not at all a fan of canines, given her rather nasty encounters with some of them in the past. She carried around a Hershey's bar in her beat-up old backpack (which was currently resting at her feet) for that very purpose, and she was going to give Lassie one hell of a stomachache if she tried anything. Then, of course, a motherfucking psycho walked in. Cordelia was tense-she didn't like this many people in the room, she didn't like lots of people around her. Too many to keep track of, it was too hard to notice someone slipping behind you or trying something bad.

So when new girl walked in and intentionally swung behind her? Yeah, Cordelia started prepping herself for a fight. Nothing overt, just subtle. Quickly figuring out who's throwing down and on what side. Hot Rod's egotistical as they come and fast. He'll try and save the day and she can't outrun him. Use his flames against him. Lure him into a small room and asphyxiate the motherfucker. Voltage would try and calm things down but he has enough sense to think it through, unlike the League's resident flaming marathon runner. Probably focus on subduing whoever struck first, or minimalizing Hot Rod's collateral damage. If he focused on Hot Rod, she could haul ass out of this room. Then there was new mystery girl, who-

...who was holding a detonator in her hand. She'd never seen one before in the flesh, but she damned well knew what it was-and a quick flicker of her eyes to the entrance saw several large bags placed close enough to fuck them up. Cordelia's shadow was now far blacker than it should've been, eerily and unnaturally dark, and the entire seat of the chair she was sitting in was covered with its presence.

Oh. This bitch.

"Agnes," Cordelia said calmly, still and tense, a panther ready to pounce. She couldn't get to her gun quickly enough, and she wasn't confident with using it anyways. But she'd practiced whipping out that nasty little switchblade of hers a thousand times over, even if it was a bit too mundane a weapon to tackle metahumans with. Once her shadow had broken Agnes trigger finger off, she'd try and shank her in the leg and run. If those bags were loaded with explosives, she'd haul ass the other way and get out of this building. There was a damned good chance Agnes was bluffing, because you'd have to be stupid as hell to threaten superhumans so overtly, so Cordelia opted not to treat her as a real threat. Probably what she got off on, seeing people freak out over that. Cordelia wasn't one to play well with others. "I think it's cute you're trying to get attention, maybe your dad beat the shit out of you too much as a kid-and, honestly, since your cocksucking mother named you Agnes, I can't blame him, but I'm trying to eat these pastries and have a nice, civil discussion with Static Shock over here. So, and this is coming from a girl who's been legal all of three months, grow the hell up. You and Usain Bolt's napalm-pissing cousin go off and fuck or whatever you want to do, but let me get type two diabetes in peace."

And with that, she turned from them, grabbed another donut, and calmly began to eat it. Cordelia wanted to establish very clearly she was not taking shit from anyone-and bringing in a fucking detonator and waving it about was what she defined as "taking shit from someone". She pushed Agnes above Hot Rod on the "List of People To Annoy The Hell Out Of When I Get The Time"

Are you ready?

Her shadow whispered into her thoughts. Always.

While MC was having fun, conjuring stuffed animals and confetti on top of people, Light was getting bored with the movie she was seeing. It was all action, and even then it wasn't very well choreographed action either.Bored, she got up and walked around the common room a bit, overhearing snippets of conversations from the heroes she passed by. A lot of heroes were talking about the more well known heroes of the league, Hot Rod being one of them, Volt being another. She didn't pay this much attention however as she walked by a snack platter, and picked up a doughnut off of it. She then heard someone in a nearby group apparently talking to the heroes she had heard some things about. Curious, she walked over to take a look.

Light couldn't help overhearing one of the girls of that group being overly rude to another person in that group before grabbing a doughnut from the plate that Light had just gotten one from, apparently ignoring her completely. This gave Light peace of mind, as at least here people didn't seem to freak out at all when they saw her. "Excuse me." Light said, tapping Cordelia on the shoulder. "I couldn't help overhearing your chat just now. Do you have some sort of personal vendetta against that person?" She said, while greeting everyone else with a cheery hello and asking who their names were, ether not noticing or not caring about the detonator in Hot Rod's hands.

MC on the other hand was starting to get bored at tossing random plushies at people, who for the most part just looked at him funny, and decided to hover over Light, spending a few moments to locate her out of the crowd. He noticed that she was talking to a small group of other supers, When he got there, he noticed that one of the heroes had a shade following them, but MC didn't really think much of it. After all, shades were sometimes used as a sorcerer's familiar at times. At any rate, he just floated above them in a lounging position, listening to their conversation, conjuring a pink bear plushie (MC didn't know what color it actually was) for the girl who seemed to be extremely hostile and grumpy towards the group. (Otherwise known as Cordelia)

Internally, Doppler was screaming at his own stupidity. Very dumb, Benny, very dumb. You have forgotten one crucial fact, Benny. You forgot the single most important thing, you moron! CHECK FOR FUCKING GLOVES! A loud nervous escape of air went through his nose, punctuated by a snort. At this point, Doppler just sort of chuckled and released the very tense handshake, only noticing after releasing that there was some exposed skin. Internal screaming at himself intensified shortly thereafter. Though his inhuman face did not entail much in the way of that emotion. It's kind of a perk when your face can't really express emotion in the first place.

One, however, just sort of walked inside. Tilting her head just slightly, the one in front of her was visibly unnerved by her presence. Maybe she can read minds? Or maybe she just finds One's appearance offenseive. Both are very real possiblities. "How can you help One?" She asked in response to her question, with an inflection on the word 'can,' She spoke and continued walking towards the desk, One placed her hands on the surface. Once she was within spitting distance of this woman, One just sort of stared at her. Expecting a response.

Benny just sort of backed inside of the building, looking at the bruisers longingly. Their powers seemed so appetizing, using them to show off his ability would have been so nice. He sighed and turned back around, looking at One at the front desk making the clerk uncomfortable. Benny took a deep breath and walked up to the counter, clearing his head and putting on a noticeably ugly smile. “Howdy, my name’s Benny, this is One. What do we do to become members?”

Mason

Mason finished checking the rifle and placed it back in its case. He took one final look at it, closed the case and locked it. After doing so he bent down and began to pet Chance."You've been a good boy. Treat?" he asked the dog and Chance began wagging his tail.

"Good. Find!" He commanded. Chance took of in a slow walk toward the strange group of people and sat down next to Chris. Interesting, Mason thought. Chance then did something he hasn't done in a while. He licked the girl know as Chris' hand.

Well then... Mason stood back up and checked his holster for his 9mm pistol. Then he approached the group. Might as well interact. As he approached he saw a girl holding what appeared to be a detonator. Mason tensed. This was not good. He took a deep breath. They are superheros after all, might work out.

Nightshade

Kayla or now known as Nightshade entered the room with a smile. What kind of challenges could a place like this offer me? She walked around the common room looking for a target. A few of these people were easy mark. Too easy. She spotted some of the Veterans and decided to try one of them. Kayla walked up to the group nonchalantly and tried to blend in. Maybe no one would notice her. Or maybe they would.

Hot Rod was about respond to Volt's obvious suggestion that he go somewhere else when Chris came over to them and said hello. He remembered her from when he first joined the league and also the fact that she was another speedster like himself, which was awesome since super speed was the best superpower hands down.

"Hello Break Neck, how's the hero work been going for yeah?" he asked with smile, he remembered her trying to get to start calling her Break Neck instead of Rolling Girl and he liked the name change. When he saw the look that Cord gave Chris, he decided that it would best lure people away from the woman before something bad was said. But before he could do anything another hero showed up and this time appeared to be a fan and wrapped her arms around him. It was true that he loved attention but that was kind of an invasion of his personal space. She spoke at a very quick pace and didn't give him time to respond and then she tried to hand him what looked like a detonator.

He wasn't sure if she was trying to play a game with them or was possibly out of her mind, but he did remember that she was a member of the League. He quickly slipped away from her grasp thanks to his super speed, and gave a calm smile, "No thanks, I have watched enough cartoons to know what usually happens someone presses a button that another person wants them too."

He then noticed a dog licking Chris' hands and he wondered who the pet's owner was. He went up to them at fast speeds and gave the dog a pet on the head.

"I think the new girl wants to have some alone time with Volt so lets give them some space" he said as he moved a little bit away from the group of heroes and got himself something to eat.

---

Ocean Warrior had no idea where to go since this was literally his first time at the Hall of Heroes and so he decided that he would have to wander around to see if he found anything interesting. He passed by several rooms and areas, only stopping for a little bit to see what was going on in them. His wandering soon got him to the training Center and he entered the main room out curiosity to see if anyone was their actively training. He wouldn't mind doing some training of his own and was impressed by the design and amount of things to train with.

The Research Wing

Said 'Figure in the containment field' was a being most simply known as Ras, A decidedly benevolent 'Radioactive Monstrosity' Who'd sought out the League for a solution to his problem of being unsafe to interact with, Hence the new project that Henry was working on, and why he was safely surrounded by that containment field... which he still felt the need to poke at from time to time as he spoke through with his mental voice.

"I am glad for that Doctor. It has been something of an ordeal keeping out of the way these past years without suffering from the undesirable side-effects of extended solitude... I must admit however, standing within 'fields' like this have been somewhat of a worry of mine since I first started avoiding contact, the things one tends to hear about what certain groups 'do' when they capture something interesting. I'm actually surprised that I'm not feeling more anxious about being in here."

Ras appeared to be made of a sticky black goo in the shape of something tall and beastly, though it held an oddly blueish tint at the moment, and a glowing sphere roughly the size of a softball was barely visible under it's surface on the side nearest to The good doctor, perhaps making a show of his attention being on his work.

Volt hadn't really expected his offer to Cord to go down all that well, so to say he was surprised that the idea landed in fertile ground was an understatement. Sure, she said she was unlikely to take him up on the offer overly much, but that suited him down to the ground. Hell, if she never spoke to him again he would just shrug his shoulders and say 'at least I tried.' Still, he was quickly growing to like the lassie, especially after the barely concealed mischievous glint in her eye when she spoke to Hot-Rod. Call it a premonition, but ah reckon Ryker is gonnae find reason ta regret annoying oor newest recruit.

Aye, Tommy was just starting to congratulate himself on a job well done, just as it all went to Hell in a hand basket again. You'd think someone with such a terrible track record with optimism as he had would have learnt their lesson by now, but no, he kept letting his hopes get high, just to watch them get dashed against the pavement, over and over again. And Szymon wonders why I'm such a miserable git.

The first, and admittedly probably the least, of the problems came in the form of a slightly pear shaped lassie Volt had never met before. She had a shy, yet pretty smile, on her face but her eyes were all for the food stacked high on Cord's plate. She asked the group how the were with all the confidence he would have expected from a hermit that hadn't seen another human being in twenty years. Obviously another newbie, though lacking Cord's unique 'charm'. Ordinarily Volt would have welcomed the lass, introduced himself then asked her name, because after all his mother had raised him a gentleman. Of course that woulda have been two easy a fix, and the universe just couldn't be having that, oh no! It, the universe that is, decided that the Lightning-Slinger could probably handle a few more upsets, this one called 'Agnes'.

Agnes was confident were the last girl had been shy, too confident really, but then crazy people usually are. Ironically Volt's on self-assuredness plummeted upon Agnes's arrival, but to be fair to her that might have more to do with the detonator she was carrying than the girl herself. And of course, she's a Hot-Rod fan. First person ah've ever met who actually knows who he bloody is, an she's a bloody nutcase!

It would be fair to say the Lightning-Slinger froze for a while after that, if only for a heartbeat, a rictus of a grin still plastered across his face. It was true what he had said earlier, terror still gripped him now as easily as it had at the beginning of his career. At the start he'd always wondered if fearlessness came with time, but he'd slowly come to realise that fearlessness was an attribute of the stupid or the dead. No, he'd just have to live with being a coward that routinely found himself in terrifying situations. That heartbeat frozen was all he needed though, just a second of giving himself over to the fear and he was ready to act again, even if all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and bawl for his ma.

Cord was speaking to Agnes now, and he could hear the steel in her voice, cold and hard. Starting to think ah was wrong, this lass definitely is League material, probably more than ah ahm. Christ, Volt had been chumming around with all sorts of super humans for years now, but he was forced to concede that Cord might be the toughest people he'd ever met. Her whole speech stood out as one of the most badass things he'd heard in along time, not quite as good as the time Sonja sucked up the poisonous gas villain Sarin in a vaccum cleaner, but still pretty good. As the only senior member of the League present (not counting Hot-Rod, but then Volt rarely did.) and with Cord's example already set, the Lightning-Slinger knew he had to take charge of the situation. After all, Ryker had treated Agnes like she was some sorta over-zealous fan, not a dangerous potential bomber.

He pushed himself out his chair, calm and smooth like a new churned buttermilk, despite his heart beating like a snare drum in his chest. He spotted a dog licking the other new girl's hand in the corner of his eye, and wondered who it belonged to. Strange the things ye notice when ye think yer gonna die. He looked Agnes straight in the eyes, sure he could see the crazy there.

"Ah dunno who ye are Agnes, an am nae sure if ye ken who ah am, but let me catch ye up. Ma name is Hi-Voltage, like thon AC/DC song, an ah produce an manipulate electrical currents. All kinds. Like those anes that run through the human brain. So, an ah feel ah'm asking ye nicely, if'n ye dinnae hand me that there detonater then ah'm gonna go ahead and drain every single lil impulse in yer heid. Ah wanna say it wid be painful, but ah doubt it. Ah reckon it wid just kill ya." Volt was impressed by how steady his voice sounded, or at least as impressed as a man ca be while facing the very real possibility that he may soon be meeting his death by explosion. The real kicker was that he wasn't even sure he could do what he had threatened, in fact he didn't even know if it was possible. It was just something that Silvertongue had told him to say once if he ever had to threaten someone.

It was during this tense moment that a pink plushie bear floated down from the air and sconed Volt across the head.

"And ye!" the Lightning-Slinger swung on MC, sounding like a school teacher dealing with a rowdy pupil "If ye throw one mair of thon bloody bears ah'm gonna pull ye down here and make ye eat the damn thing!"

Oh, and he looked even better above water! Eye-candy for all, this was great. So friendly too. Petya had no complaints. She stood up, and enjoyed the view with a relaxed smile. She could have been eating donuts in the common room, but this was much better.

Quentin took a guess at her powers, and was right at that. It didn't really surprise Petya.
”The name does give it away, doesn't it?” the shapeshifter sighed before shrugging, nonchalant. In the long run it didn't really matter, but she had realized that her codename was far from subtle. What did 'Killshade' tell Petya about this mans abilities? Practically nothing, except that they were deadly. Petya had a feeling that she wouldn't surprise many enemies with her abilities anymore. At least, not while wearing this face.
”But that's the danger in choosing a power-related name, right? Still, I've yet to find myself in a situation where my skills haven't helped me in some capacity, even when the opposition knows what I can do. The name doesn't matter. I can still surprise people with my range,” she decided with a sage nod.
”Killshade, though? Not all that specific. What can you do, exactly?” The shapeshifter asked, looking at Quentin with obvious fascination.

Agnes took Cordelia's rage in stride, not one to be easily angered or saddened by the back-handed comments of others. Who was this chick anyways, and how'd she know her name? Killjoy new nothing of even her name, so it sufficed to say little care was given to her words. Still, she played along.

"Oh ho ho!" Agnes chuckled, waving the detonator around in her hands, "How I wish my dad beat me." Agnes declaration seemed almost genuine. "Means I would've had a more proper upbringing you know? Worst I ever got was a shotgun pointed at me whenever I tried to relieve a store clerk of his money." The girl frowned a tad when Hot Rod relinquished himself of her loving embrace, and rolled her eyes when he refused her one-time free deal for fun. Whatever.

"You're missing out, but suit yourself," she shrugged. Agnes seemed ready to put the detonator back in her pocket, but Hi-Voltage's directed words stopped her. Someone was talking to her, rather than the other way around! Wonderful! Agnes looked up to Volt with a wide smile, though her face contorted into one of confusion. Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrow was raised. Volt could see a slight tilt in her head. It was his accent, clearly.

She did catch that one bit about being shocked to death though, to which Agnes responded with a pair of raised hands, feigning terror. "Sure, sure, I'll give it to you. Just let me use it first!" she escalated in volume, raising the detonator high in the air before pressing down. Agnes stared straight into Volt's eyes as if daring him. The detonator was still high in the air, but nothing happened. The girl bent over and laughed a bit, finding joy in 'tricking' the hero. Agnes wiped a tear from her eye as she calmed down, tossing the detonator over to Voltage.

"Ah fine, here you go Highlander," she said. As soon as the detonator was either caught in Voltage's hands or fallen on the floor (if Voltage was a terrible catcher), Agnes used her ability to ignite the mass of bang-snaps lying nearby Cordelia's feet. They were loud and sudden, of course, but sported absolutely zero hazards. Agnes broke up laughing at that, having finally gotten to the point of her entire actions.

"I wasn't born with powers, I instead have undergone extensive genetic modification which has enhanced me above what an ordinary human can achieve. I also have a regenerative ability that allows me to quickly recover from injuries," He said, scratching the back of his neck. "And I can do this."

He turned in the opposite direction then seemingly disappeared before appearing about twenty feet away. Then did the same thing again, this time reappearing where he was originally next to his clothing.

"It's not teleportation, I can just move incredibly quick over short distances," He stated as he dropped the towel and began to put his clothes on. "To the naked eye it looks like teleportation."

Entry Hall

Anima tried to smile but it was twisted into a rictus by her growing discomfort. Her mind was being overwhelmed with phantom sensations and these two new arrivals were extremely disconcerting. In the storm of confusion she managed to pick out a strand of nervousness and anticipations. From Doppler. She smiled and said, "We can arrange for one of the Founders to meet with you and discuss your potential membership." She kept smiling as one of her hands reached under the counter and pressed a button. There was an almost immediate reaction when a dozen or so men or women that had been loitering around the large hall all suddenly looked their way and took up a loose circle around them from perhaps twenty feet out, trying their best to make it appear casual.

They said nothing and Anima said, "One will be with you shortly." As soon as she said that a door leading deeper into the Hall opened and an Asian-American woman in her late twenties wearing a formal pantsuit walked out. She stopped next to the desk and stared at One, her eyes widening as she settled on Doppler and they hardened. Jennifer Chen, the League Founder and master telepath known as Psion spoke, "If you want to discuss potential membership why don't we escort you into one of our private meeting rooms?" The dozen or so superhumans around them watched like spectators but their body language was unmistakably that of guards.

Training Center

Mike Johns shook his head, "Nobody? What a sorry selection of superheroes we have today. Well at this rate I'm just going to have to-" Chrome saw a newbie, he recognized him as that fishguy. Ocean Warrior or something like that. Mike shouted out to the man, "Hey you! Newbie! How about a fight with the Flashbolt Acolyte here? Let's see which one of you two newbies will come out on top." The audience started murmuring and placing bets on the down low while Mike fiercely grinned not much geniality in the expression.

Research Wing

Henry finished the song and muttered about bananas under his breath before looking at Ras. He smiled, "This isn't China, Iran, or Russia Ras. Here in the United States we've managed to hold onto our freedoms. We just have to make sure it stays that way." He finished his drone and started working on a robotic arm, one in a long series of free advanced robotic limbs that the League was about to start giving to amputees mostly Military veterans. The League had realized that fighting crime didn't necessarily improve the underlying causes of it and this program was one of the first in a long series to improve the American public through ways besides conflict. Henry had already begun making plans to make renewable energy sources and modern infrastructure available to the poorest neighborhoods of the big city, all free of charge.

The taskbar beeped and the suit was finished. Henry smiled. He was a bit of a comic-book nerd and the suit was pretty much a real life incarnation of the comic Captain Atom's suit. It encased Ras's core and gel-like body perfectly. He lowered a mirror and deactivated the containment field, "What do you think Ras? If you like it you're free to go. Scans show 100% integrity. You can go say hi to your new teammates."

Common Room

Thomas's guardian spirit had been watching Light and MC, determining that their behavior had been harmless. But it was smart enough to recognize the growing unrest in the room. It reacted instantly as soon as the explosions went off. It flashed next to Light and MC and glowed red, glowing down to orange when it realized nothing had been amiss. It floated near Light and MC and awaited further developments.

Emily heard the little poppers go off and her sense of smell told her they were no threat. But she groaned and floated in the air away from her group and floated next to Volt with a nod, "Heya Volt." She turned to the rest of the group and her gaze became neutral but unyielding, "She's already tense enough Agnes. Pranks like that are unappreciated. Is there going to be a problem here? Or can I trust you to settle this like reasoned adults." There was a trace of Steven in Emily as she spoke, a seed of the superheroine she would someday become. But for right now she hoped to stop a fight among the new members.

Marconi Estate

Bender cursed when the hat hit his face and ripped it off just in time for Sixgun to slide into his knee. Bender howled in pain and fell to the ground, seeming to make the ground shake with his fall. Pariah grunted in appreciation. Bender's leg had been cracked but not entirely broken. He snarled and quicker than what he seemed capable of, he grabbed Sixgun's foot and pulled slamming him down onto the ground. Bender reached out an arm to grab SIxgun, intent on locking him into a hold and then choking him out. Possibly to death.

"Ah! I'm so sorry about that!" A male voice, with a heavy Russian accent exclaims. This voice belongs to Kholodny Zima, who rapidly jerks his hand back from the large bouncer at the door. "I swear that doesn't usually happen! I'm just a little bit nervous. This is my first time here, and I was hoping I could sign up to join." A little nervous is an understatement. This is the spot for superheroes of all power levels, many of who Khold has heard with their amazing heroics and saving the day and whatnot, and to say he feels a little outclassed wouldn't be doing the feeling justice at all. So yeah, he's nervous as hell. And as such, well. Looking down at the hand of the bouncer, who Kholodny now knows as Blockbuster, from looking at the name tag, there is a fine sheen of frost across his glove.

"Th-That's actually one of the reasons I came here. When I get under pressure I have to really pay attention or my power goes a little bit wacky. I can get rid of it though!" With a wave of his hand, the frost vaporizes into thin air, leaving the man's glove spotless once more. "I'm sorry about that Blockbuster. But ah, if you'll excuse me, I probably shouldn't be keeping you from everyone else trying to come in." Rushing past the two at the door with a burst of wind behind him, all he leaves behind is a couple of snowflakes that had begun to form.

"Kholodny. That was a disgrace, you know that. The whole point of coming here is to stop being such a little pansy, yes?" Oh, what's that voice? A very thick and heavy Russian man begins to speak inside Kholodny's head. This is no normal man however! This voice belongs to Stribog, the Russian god of Ice and the Four Winds. "Yes yes, I know that Stribog, I really do. But sometimes, I can't help it! That dude was HUGE! He probably could have crushed me without a thought!"

"Kholodny, he wouldn't have done that. You're a prospective superhero, and if they can see power potential, a strong one at that. There's no way you wouldn't make it in here, frozen glove or not. Just calm down, relax, and everything will be okay."

"I know Stribog, I know that, but-" Kholodny cuts himself off mid thought as a rush of wind indicates to him a sudden movement in about twelve people around the room. Nice thing about being able to control the wind, he's able to read motions far more easily than the average person. Its sudden enough to make him cut himself off, cause damn, whatever is going on feels important as hell. Walking up to the front desk, nervously, and carefully, but full of good intentions in his heart, he tries to keep his powers as under wraps as possible, and mostly succeeds. There's no freezing in the air at least, but people will still probably be able to feel a cool breeze around him. "Y-Yes, hello. I heard something about registration? I-Is there anyway I could get in on that?" Khold doesn't see the problem here, with what all the guards and things. He thinks this is just the procedure for welcoming new superheroes. I mean, we never know what sort of nefarious villains could be trying to sneak in here, right? Gotta make sure when someone registers, that there's plenty of guards, just in case. They probably never see any action. Doesn't make him any less nervous, so he's probably right up there with Doppler on the nervous scale, for probably about the same reasons. Though unfortunately for Doppler, even though Khold is standing right next to him at this point, he's bundled up in more clothes than you can see on him right now. I'm counting two coats, three shirts, a couple scarfs, and thick hat, and a pair of sweatpants under a pair of jeans. There is literally no open skin other than like, his cheeks. So no power stealing for Doppler when it comes to Khold, not that Kholodny knows about that. And why on Earth would a nervous man like Khold just walk into the middle of a ring of superpowered bodyguards? Its actually very simple. Kholodny is a nervous wreck, but his instincts and perceptual awareness are second to none. His instincts have accustomed him to being able to sense and react to danger faster than anyone he's ever met. He feels no danger directed him at by these people, so he doesn't feel scared to walk through them to get to the front desk.

SIXGUN

Even a fairly light touch from Bender hurt. More than falling to the manicured lawn, just the grip from the giant's fingertips was enough to leave what Sixgun knew would be painful bruises. As he lay on the grass stunned, he perceived the man's outstretched hand reaching for his throat. If Bender managed to get him in a decent hold, Ben Brady knew he would have already lost.

He played on his biggest asset, the lightning reflexes that enabled him to outdraw many a previous foe. His hard fist lanced out, meeting the tips of Bender's fingers head on. Hopefully the impact would cause some serious and painful damage to the delicate bones of the finger. Just to be sure, after impact he closed his entire fist around the giant's sausage-like index finger and jerked it backwards with all the strength he could muster.

That accounted for one arm.

With the other, Sixgun jerked his entire body a few inches into the air, and then used his elbow to come down right on the Bosnian's damaged knee with all of his weight. Again and again and again, not letting up once.

---

SONJA

With a single eyebrow arched behind her dark sunglasses, Sonja walked into the Common Room to find it littered with stuffed animals and smelling of firecrackers. Not to mention Apogee saying something about a prank. "Every time I think I'm starting to understand this place, something like this happens," she sighed as she walked into the common room. The usual sort of thing.

As Apogee gave the new recruits a lecture, Sonja stepped over to the self-serve coffee bar and mixed herself a macchiato. One of the best things about the League, they didn't skimp on little luxuries like coffee. Even a man like Pariah agreed that first-rate goods helped keep everyone's morale at a high, the better for them to take on the bad guys.

Satisfied with her coffee, Sonja picked up her spoon and concentrated heavily. As she focused, the metal spoon bent in her hand into a heart shape. The relatively simple trick had been harder than it should've been, leaving her a little short of breath. She was definitely on the down slope, Sonja thought bitterly.

Quietly, mostly unnoticed, Sonja slid across the room sipping on her hot coffee, sidling up next to Hi-Voltage, surrounded by a throng of others. She recognized two of them. Ryker, of course, a man with a big mouth and a big heart. And the British speedster, Rolling Girl, or Fast Lady, something like that. Not to mention several others she didn't recognize, including a dog. What was the dog's deal? Did it talk or something? Sonja resolved to get to know the new Leaguers at the earliest opportunity. Especially the hyperintelligent talking dog, it always paid to know one of those.

Slowly, while at least giving the semblance of paying attention to Apogee, Sonja slid the newly heart-shaped spoon in front of Hi-Voltage, lowering her glasses and giving him a wink in the process. Not that she had any particularly romantic inclinations towards the younger man (though she did find him attractive), she just liked and trusted him. She had been paired with Volt on several missions in the last few months, and the two of them had formed a close rapport. He had saved her life several times, and the two often spent their downtime together. Sonja figured whenever Volt felt ready, he would reveal his identity- from there, they would see where things went.

But for now, she just wanted to talk him into doing something a little bit crazy.

Finn was surprised by how quick he was offered a chance to spar with one of these heroes, and looked at his possible opponent. He did not recognize the Flashbolt Acolyte and wasn't sure what his powers were but he didn't care, he could use some good training and he hoped that this hero wasn't knocked out by one blow. Ocean Warrior walked over to the other heroes and asked, "so are we doing this armed or unarmed?"

He held his trident firmly in his right hand and was wondering if he would be able to use it. With his trident Finn would have ranged attacks to back up his physical ones and also would grant him extra range of motion with the weapon.

Training Center: Emmanuel

As the aquatic avenger walks up to the center of the sparring ring, Emmanuel turns to face him. He smiles and says "Why hello there Aquaman! The name's Emmanuel. I answer to that, Flashbolt Acolyte, just Acolyte, or even just Flashbolt. Hell, you could probably just yell hey you really loudly and still get my attention that way. I'm not picky." Looking the other man up and down, Emmanuel takes in a few things. One, gills. I guess he has lungs too? He'd have to, otherwise we'd see him suffocating right before us. Two, he looks freakin ripped. Don't get hit. Three, trident. How.....typical, honestly. That could definitely hurt if he gets smacked by it. And of course, his own personal weapons won't be super effective here. They're not exaaaactly sparring friendly. They hurt, a lot. But if he wants to use his trident, Emmanuel won't say no. He doesn't look like the fastest person in the world, so as long as the Flashbolt can run circles around him, that trident and strength won't do much to him.

"Nice trident you have there man. I'm totally up for letting you use that. You wanna make this a power spar? I wasn't planning on getting in an all out, no holds barred match right from the get go, but if that's what you want to do, we can do it. Im all up for showing off what I can do. I've been a member for a bit, but I dont think anyone has actually seen me fight, so this would be good time to let loose and get some pointers on how I could improve. Ya feelin me Aqualad?" Emmanuel catches himself. "Ah, I really shouldn't just keep calling you stereotypical names. Really sorry about that. What's your name?" He holds his hand out for a good shake.

With his hand still outstretched, he watches the crowd and grins. Oooo, betting? I like that, he thinks to himself. Gonna have to make this a good show for all of them then. If i make it good enough, I can probably talk some money out of the ones that bet on me to send back home to old Granny Gossamer. Yeah, she could use some extra money. She's the whole reason he even came up here in the first place. That old bag really got on his tail once crime went down. Yelling at him to 'Get out of here and make yourself useful somewhere else.' and 'You've already done so much here, go help some other people'. Its stereotypical, he knows, but everyone's family in a little neighborhood like that, and he told them all he'd make them proud and become a super famous hero. And if he needs to beat up a fishman as his first step for it, so be it. Not that he's assured to win, and he won't beat anyone up here too much. He considers everyone here his friend and colleague. At least so far he hasnt met anyone too obnoxious.

Turning to Chrome, hand still outstretched for a shake, he's very polite; he asks the question Ocean Warrior just had. "So Chief, he votes for a Powered match, I guess. Is that what we're doing?"

Marconi Estate

Bender was having a very bad day. His knee had already been severely cracked and when he reached out for Sixgun, his fingers had been broken in horrifying degrees by Sixgun's assault. The mob men watching almost all groaned in pain, Chunk cackling madly while Fontana chuckled, La Sombra seemed contemplative while the Witchfinder stared at Sixgun's brutal assault with a measure of admiration. Marconi grinned from ear to ear while Music stared coldly at the bloody spectacle. Sixgun's elbow came down again and again and Bender screamed out even louder than before as his knee broke.

The giant had never felt such intense agony before and it made him mad. In a fury, he raised his other leg and kicked Sixgun full in the chest with all the strength he could muster in his muscles and positioning. Then he collapsed as the motion brought even more waves of pain through his tortured body. He gritted his teeth and snarled, hate fueling his eyes as he knew that he could not win fairly now. But then again he was a gangster. Since when did they fight fair?

Fighting through the agony, his movements fueled by wrath, he reached into his jacket the motion slower than it should have been. Fontana went for his gun but Marconi reached an arm across his chest and stopped him grinning even wider. Bender fumbled for the gun and slowly pulled it out, only able to aim with one hand and mind almost rendered inoperable by pain as he tried to aim at Sixgun.

Fight Clu- Training Center

Mike nodded solemnly and took Emanuel's hand in his shaking it strongly his grip already like steel despite being flesh, "A powered fight it is. We're going to see what the two of you can do. First one to stay down for the count loses. Since this may get interesting, we'll all be watching from out here." Mike walked over to Ocean Warrior and shook his hand. Then he stepped out of the ring and nodded at an instructor standing by. The small lithe brunette spread her hands and a clear white-tinted dome spread over the sparring ring, encasing Flashbolt and Ocean Warrior.

Mike asked if each fighter was ready, raised his hand, and chopped swiftly down, shouting, "Go!"

Slaughterhouse

St. Michael slashed the door into pieces with his sword and flew inside his corona of light filling up the entire space. Furious and Arachnid were right after him, ready for combat. Nothing happened. In their world whenever you kicked in a door something usually happened and it usually happened almost instantly. Nothing. There was no movement or even sound and as the trio looked around they could see the slaughterhouse was mostly empty.

Furious kept his arms raised and said, "Ok. This isn't creepy at all." Arachnid snorted and casted her pistol around, "No kidding." St. Michael frowned, "We must proceed. I can sense an innocent life nearby." St. Michael kept advancing floating over the floor. Arachnid shrugged and followed Furious right after. The old abattoir was dark, light drifting through cobweb-crusted windows the air heavy with dust. Everything was coated in it and it was devoid of any signs of life. They all gripped their weapons tighter, even St. Michael.

Then they heard the sobs. Furious snarled and ran off, St. Michael reaching out for him but then flying to catch off Arachnid firing a web to follow. Furious burst through another locked doorway and he saw a scene straight from a horror film. The space was tinted amber by equally spaced torches on the walls, strange and archaic and nightmarish scriblings all over the floor in a circle. There was a large wooden post in the middle of the room, a half-dozen or so robed figures around it. On it was a young boy or no more than six, face streaming with tears and his mouth still screaming though it came out hoarse and rough. The figures were chanting in low ominous tones that slowly rose higher and higher as one figure advanced on the boy with a knife.

Furious kept charging and St. Michael felt very strange. He shouted, "Furious!" One of the robed figures turned and revealed and lifted a hand. Tendrils of lightning flew out and hit Furious locking his muscles and making him scream in pain. Arachnid fired off a pistol round striking the figure right in the head, scarlet blood and brain matter splattering the boy on the post who screamed even louder. St. Michael looked up and saw a circle drawn in what looked like blood above him, curving runes running around a scarlet pentagram.

St. Michael yelled and drove his sword forward but it rebounded off of the air itself, flashing against a red barrier that appeared out of nowhere. He yelled in frustration and kept battering the barrier with no effect. Furious got off of the floor and he charged right into the midst of the figures his strength increasing by the second, he punched another robed figure and his head snapped back with a crunch. He got to the second one and punched him in the ribs while he lifted him in the air then throwing him on the ground and prepared to stomp his chest. The man yelled and then his colleagues fired off more lightning bolts at Furious all at once.

The young hero was driven to his knees and his rage and pain induced scream climbed in volume. Arachnid fired off more rounds but one robed figure raised a hand and they bounced off another red barrier right in front of the three rogues. Arachnid ran forward and fired a web at the ceiling. She climbed to the top and jumped off the web landing behind the man who raised the barrier. He raised his hand again only to have it grabbed by Arachnid who twisted bringing him to his knees. The butt of her pistol slammed into his head and he went limp. She fired off a round and caught a figure, seemingly a woman judging from her more feminine grunt of pain, right in the chest. She sunk to the ground, blood seeping from her wound.

The last man, the one with the knife, turned his attention on Arachnid and his other hand, shocking her and making her scream and fall to the ground wracked in agony. Furious snarled and picked up the body of the bleeding woman. He charged forward and hit the man right in the upper torso with his comrade's pained body, her pained groans stopping suddenly as the man fell to the floor with a grunt. The man raised his hand again to have Furious kick him breaking his arm and he screamed. The boy's screams continued as the second man Furious assaulted had risen to his feet advancing on the boy despite his wounds raising his own knife.

He grabbed the boy by the hair and lifted his neck shouting in an incomprehensible tongue and raised his knife. He stopped short suddenly and gurgled knife falling to the floor as he sunk to the ground, the other man's knife buried in his back. Arachnid got up shaking her head and tried running to the boy, rapidly untying him, handing him off to Furious as she retrieved her gun. She fired off two web steams that cocooned the two surviving robed figures leaving only their faces open. Furious panted and said, "Not so bad."

St. Michael kept battering away and Furious tried to smile, "It's alright Mikey we got the kid. We'll just break you out of that magic circle and be on our way. With the survivors in irons" St. Michael shook his head, "The circle wasn't just a trap for me. It was a signal." Furious's eyes widened and they ran towards the exit when suddenly the walls on three sides were lined with figures who appeared out of portals that seemed to just appear. They outnumbered them at least five to one, all garbed in differing costumes that just screamed villain wear.

Another hooded figure, this one with robes of scarlet where the others had been plain brown stepped forward as they surrounded them. The figure's face could not be seen but not be seen but when it spoke it did so with a twisted feminine tilt, "We've been waiting for you."