Brooklyn

Every street in New York bore the scars of the Civil War, some burnt out remnants of tanks and civilian vehicles still abandoned on the sides of roads or embedded in buildings; just waiting for the official salvage crews to show up and take away the carcasses. Anything of value or use from the wreckage had long since been taken and no police force was brave enough to stop a few petty crimes in Brooklyn now; the improvement of recent decades had been slashed by the ongoing conflict between Unnaturals and the government. Now, at least, the conflict had been forced underground with the military and National Guard deployed alongside normal forces. Still, Brooklyn was a good place to disappear with enough gangs and cartels based in the area to scare off any pursuers.

An abandoned, heavily damaged apartment block on the edge of the intensely criminal areas goes unnoticed; just another victim of the Civil War with too much damage for the building to be occupied by anyone but squatters. It was the kind of place that was so often inhabited by small groups of the homeless or refugees that the police never paid the place any attention; once every few months they might have entered to throw out those inside just to show they were still doing their jobs if it were not for the more pressing matters at hand. Hundreds of buildings had suffered similar fates and no one had the time or compulsion to move a few homeless out of a decrepit building so that they could move into the one next to it or return in a few days' time.

This building has become a place for fugitive Unnaturals to gather and form groups for safety. The area is too dangerous for the government to intervene and is just out of reach of the larger crime cartels making it a safe haven. Sympathisers across the country direct Unnaturals on the run here in the hope that they will join others and evade both extremes of the conflict.

---

Ragnarson's House, White Plains. 07:00

It was still dark outside, although that was hardly surprising for late Autumn. Street lamps cast their eerie orange glow onto the silent neighbourhood; those who worked in the city had already left in a vain attempt to avoid rush hour traffic or the crush on the train. One of the detached houses had a single light on downstairs while many others remained dark; children were not awake yet unless they too had to travel into the city; as a blond young man sat at granite breakfast bar. A laptop and a few files were slightly to his right, within easy reach, while his simple breakfast of toast and a mug of tea was directly before him.

It still felt odd to Julius; sitting in his father's house with no one but himself there. Allister had gone to Britain as an 'envoy' to represent the American Empowered but they were so split into factions she could hardly speak for anyone now. The British Guardians, an organised and accepted military division made up entirely of Empowered, had helped them during the Civil War but had been wisely told to stay out of the conflict that was spreading across the US and much of the world. Julius still tried, with dwindling hope, to influence the current administration to create a dialogue with other Empowered leaders but he could sense the tide had long since turned against them.

In fact, thanks to an Empowered ally, he knew that they were coming for him that day. Most would not be so lucky to have warning. He finished his meal and washed the dishes up, wondering when he could hope to return to the house; if there was anything to return to at the rate things were spiraling out of control; before shrugging on a long winter great coat and swinging the now packed laptop bag with its files and some clothing, onto his shoulder and exiting the house. There was a place he knew Empowered tended to gather and he began the journey into the city.

Barely twenty minutes after he had left the military broke into his house to find no trace of him at all. The chase was on.

Queens, Woodside, Saint Michael's Cemetery

Miriam shuddered as she walked and huddled closer to her blanket as she walked down the road. The night was cold, but that wasn't anything new. Honestly though, she'd have liked it if she could find a more comfortable place to stay where she wouldn't be hunted down.

Oh well, beggars can't be choosers, she thought. The Cemetery really was an excellent place to hide. Even though there was the staff or some occasional mourner who'd come by she was scarcely noticed. She wasn't sure if this was due to the clothes she was wearing or because hiding behind a crypt and only coming out at night tended to scare most people away. Oh well.

Still, this was her last night here. She'd heard tell of small gatherings of Unnatural's like her at Brooklyn. If she could get there it would finally be goodbye to having to be constantly on the move, constantly hungry, constantly afraid, and best of all, it would be an end to constantly being alone.

Miriam missed her friends. No, it would be better to say she missed people in general. Ever since she'd been on the run three years ago, she never even had time to talk to people, for fear of being turned in to the government. She desperately wanted someone she could trust or even someone she could just talk to. She hated feeling lonely like this. The only consolation she had that kept her dying from this depression (and she was unsure if this was simple hyperbole or literal fact . . .) was the fact that she was never alone. She knew God was on her side at all times, and for now, that would suffice.

"Hey, you there! What're you doin' here, the Cemetery's closed!"

It was also times like this when she wondered why God kept testing her faith so . . .

Miriam didn't even look back or answer, and simply broke into a run - which was rather difficult considering the travel bag she was lugging. In the wake of the Civil War, even public places like cemetery's were patrolled regularly and closed of at certain times; this was because certain abilities of Unnatural's involved the usage of the diseased, and as such she was here illegally and would be detained if caught. She couldn't afford that now. Getting caught meant getting arrested, getting arrested meant the police, police meant files and records of Unnatural's, and that all lead up to the government, which would end up with her back in a facility.

Miriam shuddered as she ran.

Springfield Gardens, JFK International Airport

Maribeth's eyes fluttered open as she heard a soft ding and the voices of people around her grow louder. "I can't believe I slept through the landing." She muttered, yawning and unbuckling her seat belt. The older couple next to her laughed and the elder woman placed her hand on Maribeth's knee, giving her a warm smile, "Sweetheart.. If it weren't for the fact that you had to use the restroom every now and then, we would have thought you were dead. You slept for nearly the entire flight!" Mari's eyes widened as she heard this and her cheeks turned a bright red. "I'm so sorry. I don't...." Before she could get her apology out fully she was interrupted. "Oh no, sweetie don't apologize. You didn't bother anyone. Plus, we could tell you hadn't slept in a while." Maribeth nodded and smiled at the elderly couple, waiting for them to get up and get their bags. Once there was enough room, she quickly got out of her seat and grabbed her black handbag before making her way out of the plane with everyone else.

She had just gotten back to the United States after spending a bit with her father in Italy. Ever since the civil war had broken out, her father had fled to Europe, where he now moved from city to city and town to town every few weeks. It was nice to see him and it was even better to have him approve and accept her for who she was now. Unfortunately, no real news on her mother or her sister had came up. Just that they had last been seen in Portland, Oregon but that was about five years ago.

As Maribeth walked out into the lobby, she noticed four men in black suits standing with three police officers next to them. 'Sucks to be them' she thought to herself before turning away from them and beginning to walk away, her high heeled boots clicking loudly with every step. "Miss Wilson." Their voices held a kind, yet stern tone to it. Maribeth didn't know what to think of it. They could be others like her, that just happened to bump into her at the airport, or they could be officials that were after her. If the ladder, she decided to pretend she didn't hear them. "Maribeth Wilson, halt. You have a warrant out for your arrest." Her head snapped up at the sound of the news and she turned around quickly. "I beg your pardon? Last time I checked I hadn't been in America long enough to get a warrant for my arrest." The men began to walk towards her, the police officers pulling out hand-cuffs, a baton, and a taser. She stood frozen in place, debating whether to fight them off easily, or just fly off. She decided on neither. The people around her would immediately think all Unnaturals were bad if she flew off. Instead, she just stood there, letting the officer forcefully put the cuffs on her. "Thank you officer. We'll take it from here." 'So the cops aren't in on this? The government.. Of course.' Maribeth nearly growled as she was yanked in a 180, one agent carrying her bag and the other three around her. As she began walking, she saw the elderly couple staring at her, looking beyond ashamed and appalled. "I'm sorry you had to see this.... But I'm innocent. I haven't done anything." She managed to get the small explanation out before being yanked harshly forward, an obvious sign for her to be quiet.

"Get in the car." She gruff voice of the man barked before she was pushed into the back seat. Once they had been settled, she was the only one in the back seat with her hand bag, two agents in the front, and an SUV following behind them. "Where is your father?" The tone was hard and cold, more of a demand than a question. "I don't know." She spat back almost immediately. "We received intel that a Wilson would be flying in to the US. We thought it was your dad... but I guess you'll do for now." Maribeth lifted an eyebrow and she slumped back in the seat. "Hooray.. You guys caught me! I'm sure mister president will give you each a gold star for trying." She smirked and looked outside the window. Perfect weather for the stunt she was about to pull. Early in the morning, cloudy. It was raining and by the looks of it, the rain was only going to get worse. The men were blabbering about something but Maribeth's mind was already working. She let her telekinesis reach out and she could feel the car around her. "Wait..... did you say for trying?" Maribeth turned around and laughed once. "Yup. For trying to keep me contained." The men gave each other a quick glance before the back doors of the SUV blew out, the sheer force sending them flying to either side of the highway. With a huff, she lifted the SUV up and at a forward angle, making it difficult for the men to move, their seatbelts hugging them tight to the seats. "Bye, boys. Can't wait for the next date." She grinned and grabbed her handbag from her cuffed hands from behind her back before flying out of the hovering SUV. As soon as she left the vehicle, it dropped, crashing down on the pavement below.

Maribeth didn't even take a second glance when she flew off, her heart beating faster by the second. By now she was practically drenched, walking in a street she didn't know. She had managed to bring her arms under her legs and to the front, so they now rested in front of her rather than on her back. She walked quickly down the side walk, exhausted, cold, and wet with her handbag in her hands.

Staten Island, 8:00pm
Things happened as usual inside of the Golden Dove, a diner on Richmond Avenue; customers came and went, waitresses chatted and bustled about while serving their hungry customers, a couple of chefs could be heard scraping their spatulas along the grill and ringing the bell once orders were ready. No one paid attention to the young man sitting in the corner booth wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, sunglasses, and black Vans, staring out the window into the darkness. If anyone did, they never said anything or spared so much as a passing glance.

A waitress, about the same age as the young man, approached the table with a slightly uneasy smile.

“Hi there, the name is Darla, can I get you anything? A coffee? A slice of pie?”

The young man didn’t even look at the woman. “Coke. Easy Ice. Side of fries.”

The waitress turned and quickly walked away. Things continued on as normal for a while, and the young man ate his food in peace.

A couple of minutes into his meal, a black SUV with no license plates pulled up into the parking lot, and two men in black business suits stepped out. The young man sat up a little and watched them from behind his glasses. The two men quickly closed their doors and walked into the diner. They walked over to the booth right behind the young man and sat down. Very slowly, the young man at the adjacent table leaned up, as if he was readjusting the way he was sitting.

“Damn unnaturals,” said one of the well-dressed men. “They’re like roaches. The more we take down, the more continue to pop up. We took down a safe house last week on Katan Avenue, just up the road. That’s the fourth one this month. Can you believe it?”

“I can’t, Roberts.” The other man said. He took a drink of his water and sighed. “I got a tip from an anonymous source that there is another safe haven for the roaches in Arden Heights Woods, right off of Arthur Kill Road. I think that we should get a task force and check it out tonight. They’ll never see it coming.”

“You think that Diego kid is gonna be there? I heard he’s around here somewhere. We got at least that much from someone on the Katan house. He said that he saw him hanging around the woods…”

“I doubt it, Roberts. I mean, even if we was there, there’s a small chance we could get him, anyway. None of the task forces that have faced the kid have been able to, and most of them get wiped out. If what that kid says is true, then we need to be careful. We just grab the roaches we can and leave. Hopefully it will scare them into another home, and we can go from there.”

The young man at the other table dropped a twenty dollar bill onto the tabletop, and quickly left the diner. He rounded the corner to the back of the restaurant, pulled the hood of his sweater down, then shot up into the sky and in the direction of Arden Heights Woods.

---

Arden Heights Woods, Staten Island, 10:00pm
The young man watched as the last of the Empowered kids exited the small, poorly constructed, two-bedroom shack. The kid, no more than 17, extended his hand.

“Thank you Diego. For everything.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mike.” Diego took the Empowered’s hand and gave it a small shake. “Just be careful out there. You have to learn how to control that pyro power of yours. Remember what I showd you, okay? Now go.”

Once the boy had left, Diego got to work. He walked into the shack and poured bag after bag of charcoal onto the ground, followed by about two gallons of gasoline. He then flew to the top of the shack and continued to douse the roof in even more gasoline. After he was finished, he flew to the nearest tree and waited.

Not long after, the sound of car doors being opened and closed could be heard, and moments later, at least ten different men, all dressed in SWAT gear appeared through the trees, guns drawn. Diego scanned the squad and spotted one of the men from the diner. He had his helmet off and took the lead. The man stopped at the door and took in a deep breath.

“It smells like gas. They must have planned to torch the place before leaving. Be careful in there.” With that, the men broke down the door and piled in.

Diego floated down and stood in the doorway, a smug smile on his face. Roberts and his men turned to face him, and as soon as their eyes met, Diego shot a small flame into the shack. Within an instant, the whole place was ablaze. There was no way the men were able to react, let alone get out, in time.

Diego turned and shot off into the now pouring rain, leaving the men to their agonizingly slow death.

Corner of 9th and C, Alphabet city

The hushed voices of a few people could be heard in a room tucked in the corner on the top floor of a three story building. Long ago condemned, it was empty save for the four people hiding away inside of it, included in this small group was Sean Davis, he'd found a group of people in this building, all willing to help him knowing full well what he was. Sean carefully peeked out the window and at the corner of the street, the sign read 9th and C, he was close. He'd just walk the rest of the way except one one thing... The military had found him, five maybe six armed men ready to come in and blast him away or worse yet capture him.

Sean took a long drink from a water bottle and then put it into his backpack. They were in the building now, he urged the people to hide somewhere.knowing that the military would just as soon shoot an empowered sympathizer to shoot the empowered they were helping. "Shit! Go, run!" Sean yelled at the group as he smashed a window and clambered out of it on to the fire escape, he looked back in to the building just in time to see a door get kicked and a hail of gunfire tear through the group of people, Sean cursed under his breath and ran up then stairs to the rooftop. He looked around frantically trying to think of what to do next as he could already hear the soldiers coming up the stairs. Then as he looked down towards the street something caught his eye.

The entire team ran on to the roof and prepared to open fire on Sean however they were met only with a trash can that had been tipped on its side, one the soldiers looked down only to see Sean running through the alleyway away from them. Sean ran through the alley taking turns here and there until he ran into a fence he looked for something to concentrate on so he could switch places with it but it was empty much to his dismay. Sure enough he heard heavy footfalls around the corner and before he knew it two soldiers were right in front if him ready to shoot. "We've got you now you fucking freak, get on the ground!" One of them shouted, Sean wanted to act but needed a plan first so he complied and slowly lay down, arms and legs spread out.

"Any witty fucking one liner before I pair the ground with you?" The man shouted pressing His gun to Sean's head Sean looked forward at the other soldier who was laughing "Eat a dick." Sean half yelled at the soldier, who responded by firing his gun, only to shoot his comrade in the foot as Sean had traded places with him, the one soldier yelled in agony, while the other quickly turned around and fired, the other soldiers yelling was cut short as a bullet entered his face and left through the back of his head, as he was yet again switched and shot. The still living soldier fell forward as Sean punched him in the back of the head full force, he then bent over and took the soldiers guns, he threw the rifle over the fence and pointed the soldier side arm at the back of his head and fired. "Thanks, asshole." Sean muttered And slid the pistol into the back of his jeans. He turned to look at the fence, he found the gun in the ground and in an instant he was on the other side and the gun lay on the dead soldiers back.

Sean ran out into the street, his destinatiom was close but he was exhausted from switching and running, he stopped to throw up and take a drink from his water bottle.before pressing on.

Prospect Heights, Grieg Residence. 9:00 PM

Yolanda Grieg hastily packed a bag. She barely noticed that the bag was too small, causing most of the unfolded clothing to overflow. She turned slightly at a sound. Crying. Her mother was crying. Yolanda squeezed her eyes shut for a few moments, trying to think over the sound of her too loud heart and the too loud crying. It was deafening. Yolanda whipped around, angry, though whether it was true anger or just sadness masquerading, she wasn't sure.

Her mother was slumped against the wall in the corridor just behind her room, sobbing into her hands.

"Mum, please!" She exclaimed, her teeth gritted.

The hands fell away and her mother looked up. "Yolanda, you don't have to go. We can...we can fix this. We can find a way to help--"

"There's nothing wrong with me." Yolanda interrupted quietly. Turning away again, she zipped up her bag and picked it up, hurrying from her room with it under her arm. Any moment, any moment someone could come and take her away. It had happened, she'd seen it. The brutality of it had surprised, yet not shocked her. Humans, natural or unnatural, were animals. Yolanda scrunched up her nose in distaste before letting out a short gasp as a hand fell heavily on her shoulder.

She snapped her head so quickly to the left that there was an audible crack. Her father looked down at her, face etched with concern and fear. "I didn't mean to startle you. But Yolanda, you can stay. We can protect you," There was a pause as the man's voice cracked slightly. "I can protect you."

Yolanda's throat tightened slightly at that but she pushed the feeling away. She told herself that she wouldn't cry, though as she felt a tear run down her cheek, she knew that she had made herself into a liar. Looking up at him, she gave a weak smile.

"Ek is lief vir jou, papa." Yolanda murmured, giving her dad's hand a light squeeze before turning away and walking down the corridor, towards the front door. She lingered briefly at the doorway of her younger sister's room, who was still sleeping. She smiled fondly at her sister's heavy sleeping. The girl could sleep through the end of the world. Steeling herself, she stepped away and opened the door, not allowing herself a last glance towards her broken family. She closed the door behind her, and ran.

Her father watched her go, a heavy feeling in his chest. His wife still sobbed further down the corridor behind him. He took a deep breath, running a hand down his face.

"I love you too, Yolanda."

Faust walked down the streets of new york. He didn't know where and he didn't really care to be honest. He was free, true he had been free for a few months now but still after six years it was not long enough. Looking down at his feet he kicked a bit of rubble before looking up at the sky "man this city has really gone to shit, starting to resemble detroit" he said smiling and laughing some walking through the streets. "I love work" he mumbled to himself. Only a few months of freedom and he has already got himself a nice new job as a weapon for hire, already had a few contracts under his belt. And this is what brings the mercenary to new york, an admittedly boring contract. Find his target and observe him, study, and report.

He had tracked his target all the way here, apparently he used to live here. His targets name was Julius Ragnarson, personally going over the file the guy seemed like a bit of a tool. someone was willing to pay a lot of money for information on his movements and goals before finally offing him. Not like Faust cared, he was just the first name on his list, and he even had his own list to complete. He did slightly wonder what happened to his life. So many list it seemed now days. It almost like the killing would never end at this rate. Once one list is done you get another, well at least work wasn't going to dry up anytime soon.

Once stopped looking up at an apartment building he figured he might as well multi task and cross a name off his personal list. It didn't take long for him climb the floors, though as he could hear it. Heavy footsteps, military grade boots as well as being waited down with gear. THere was about six moving through the building. most seemed to be fallowing him staying low the though two sounded like they was headed for the roof. They came in after him as he focused and picked up the one of them talking "Be careful, this is Faust." so they knew who he was. That will make things more difficult as he would have to move quickly. For now they didn't know that he knew they were there and he still had a job to do.

Arriving at his destination he stood outside of a door and knocked on the door. He could hear some movement behind it as he knocked again "I'm coming" a voice said as Faust smiled recognizing it, as he never forgot a voice. Once that door open the middle aged man looked at Faust in terror as he went to slam the door. Faust stopped it though and shoved into the apartment

"Doctor! Is that anyway to treat your dear old friend" He said shutting the door.

That man stumbled backward "what are you doing here?'

"well I was in town so I figured I would pay a visit to my favorite Brain washing doctor. You know, catch up on old times" he said.

The man stumbled back in the chair looking up at him

"but we don't have much time, It seems I have some more friends in town and jesus fucking mary if they don't just want to play so badly So sadly, I can't show you the attention that you truly deserve"

'you know what Faust, you had two major problems. You're completely out of your mind, and You talk to much' he said pulling a gun out getting ready to shoot. The trigger was pulled but no sound came out. It was like the room was muted as Faust was faster. Dipping to the right he moved up grabbing the man's arm twisting it and forcing him to drop the gun as Faust caught it "thanks for the training though" he said pulling the trigger and shooing the man in the chest three times in the eerie silence.

He looked around some and started walking toward the door "3" he counted releasing the ammo on that pistol dropping it "2" looking at the mag eleven shots left in this he shrugged sliding it back in. "1" he finished as he slid into the crevice of the apartment behind the door. Just then the door burst open as two cans of tear gas were thrown in. The first guard came as Faust reach forward grabbing his arm. Pulling him forward he punched the man right in that bullet proof vest as there was also a much louder hit sound than normal. He jerked back and coughed up blood all over his face mask as faust pulled him in grabbing that assault rifle. A deafening sound burst out as the soldiers on the other side of that door screamed reaching up holding their ears.

Faust popped out of that door pulling the trigger sending out controlled burst downing the deafened and dazed soldiers. He reached down grabbing extra mags for his new rifle and shoved a couple into his pocket. More were coming as they crashed threw the window behind him in the apartment being filled with tear gas, but he was already on the move.

Running he was heading for the stairs, those soldiers would have to take a few minutes before they came out of the apartment. At which point he was almost at the ground floor as he listened to them "Shit, he got the door team, assuming he is headed for the exit. Ground team watch the exits" Of course there was more of them. Soon though he was at the emergency exit of the stair well and stopped. He listened as he could hear a heartbeat on the other side Soon he kicked the door open with his gun trained on him and as soon as it swung enough he pulled the trigger. Again there was no sound as he didn't want everyone to know what door he came out of.

Now that he had a moment he looked at his hand, the trembling was only light for now as he shoved it into his pocket. Now he listened, focused some until he heard some one calling the shots, sending out orders. He then moved walking back out to the street seeing a van parked along side the road. Walking up to it he opened the back two see three men sitting at computers. Two muted controlled burst and two where down. the third was scared and trying to shout but it was useless as Faust got up and walked up to him. "you know, You cost me something" he said setting the gun down and pushing a body from a chair to sit down. "It took me a month to find that guy, you wouldn't belive what he did to me, tried to fry my brain so he could mold it as he pleased. And when that didn't work, he threw me in a hole that makes fucking god damn gitmo look like a mother fucking resort." he was clearly pissed now as the man was looking for away out soon trying to jump out towards the van door as Faust grabbed him.

Just then a voice came over a radio "we have lost sight of him, command orders" Faust grabbed a mic and smiled talking into it only the voice that came out wasn't his, but was the last remaining man in the van with him "Last report was east side of the building, he may be trying to flee into the subway try to catch him before that" he dropped it. 'now where were we" he said his voice back to normal "Now I had a new trick i wanted to show him, but sadly I couldn't cause you all just tried to kill me" the man was terrified as his muted screams called out and tears ran down his face. he was begging, something about a family, though Faust could care less. "Now Let me show you that trick" he said getting up grabbing the mane and soon a loud high pitched sound screeched out. The windows of the van started to crack as soon blood started to drip from the mans ears, next from his nose, as it went on his eyes turned blood shot before he was crying blood "you see, I discovered that if I'm holding onto someone, I can tune this sound to them. Next thing you know everything starts to pop as all your organs start to rupture" coughing up blood that body went limp.

That should throw them off his trail for awhile,and he got to have his last bit of fun before he had to focus on his real target and his real assignment of studying and reporting. Yay Faust!

Queens, Woodside, Saint Michael's Cemetery

So deep into the night, it wouldn’t be wrong to call Timothy Aquinas a trespasser even with his background as a devotee and clerical assistant in the local parish. Though not too keen on it, he allowed himself to be one, as he ran his fingers over the rough texture of so many gravestones and his eyes read the names and dates inscribed upon them. Catherine, James, Lance -- it was hard to imagine a person out of any of those simple words, but there indeed was a person with that name, before they were abruptly snuffed away. Perhaps they were Empowered -- or Gifted, as Timothy liked to call his supernatural kindred -- or not, but they held common ground in that the dates of their deaths coincided with the Civil War.

Such needless waste of life. The impoverished Timothy came here partly to remind himself of the reason for his mission. Indeed, the bite of the evening breeze could have cut through to the bone, but his surroundings were serene and quiet, and this allowed him to think and contemplate deeply as he walked along the cobbled paths. Yet it was with mild surprise that he happened upon a figure up ahead, lit under a dim lamp post. He had an inkling that it was one of the groundskeepers of this place, until he saw the figure bury itself further into its blanket.

Smiling, he thought to greet his fellow trespasser in a tone of jest:

“Hey, you there. What’re you doing here? The Cemetery is closed.”

It was with a gentle voice that Timothy had spoken those words -- at least it was from his perspective -- yet perhaps he should have chosen a different wording, since the figure had bolted up and off headed away from him. Distressed at scaring away a poor soul, Timothy began to give chase, stretching out an arm like he could somehow reach Miriam from where he was and his relatively weak legs whirling into a sprint.

“Hey, wait!” He called out. “I mean no harm, stranger!”

Rockaway Avenue Station, 21:30

The subway was mercifully quiet although that was to be expected at such a late time; Brooklyn was hardly a place many people wanted to stop off at these days anyway. Julius sat with his laptop bag placed firmly on his lap, a pair of new reading glasses rested awkwardly on his nose (he had yet to get used to wearing the damn things), and waited for his stop. He had come to recognise various parts of the city over the past six years his family had been in the US but this area of town was one he had become acutely familiar with over the past couple of months.

When the station was announced he put away his reading glasses in a protective case, slim enough to fit easily in his pocket, and swung the rucksack over his shoulder. A few people had thrown glances his way but that was to be expected; he was young enough to be an Unnatural so everyone would be suspicious of him but his calm and mild demeanor and apparently relaxed state would assuage most peoples' fears. Not for a pair of men in suits who everyone stayed clear of, it would seem.

They had kept an unsubtle eye on him the entire journey since he had gotten on the subway and now they rushed to exit by a different door when he left the carriage. Following at what they probably thought was a discrete distance, the two followed Julius as the boy made his way out of the station. He tried as hard as he could to disguise his slight limp but with such scrutiny it was unlikely to go unnoticed. As soon as they were out of the station the two men closed the distance quickly, one of them jamming a gun into Julius' side and leaning in closely.

"Turn around slowly. We need to verify your identity." Julius did as he was ordered, his arms raised to show he was complying, and turned around so that the two men could compare his appearance to that of the image they had been given. The closest one looked to his companion who held the image and received a nod in return. "You're under arrest for crimes against the state, Julius Ragnarson. Turn around so we can 'cuff you."

Julius just smiled as a vortex of air he had been collecting above them quietly smashed down into the two men, crushing them into the ground with so much force their joints had no chance to flex; shattering their femurs, spines and most of the other vertically aligned bones in their bodies. Bending down, Julius carefully retrieved weapons and spare ammunition from both men and slid one gun into his bag with the spare clips, the remaining gun fastened to his waist by his belt. Barely had he left before a cry of alarm went up as the two unconscious men were found but he forced himself to walk rather than run through the stinging rain so as not to appear suspicious.

So focussed on going unnoticed he nearly missed her in the surrounding panic and he had to get out his glasses to make out her face properly before calling out to her.

"Mari! Over here, quick." He gestured when the young woman turned at the sound of his voice and retreated out of immediate sight into one of the run down alleyways that could be found all over the area. He saw the handcuffs on her hands and gestured at them, trying to stop the rain on his glasses obstructing his vision. "I thought you were out of the country? You chose a really bad time to come back. Let me see if I can get these off."

"Hey, wait, I mean no harm stranger!"

As if Miriam would actually believe that. Well . . . actually, she would. Indeed she would very much like to believe it, but now wasn't the time to be recklessly trusting others. She would wait until she was somewhere safer for people like her.

And so she kept running, not even bothering to look back. She was delayed slightly when she had some difficulty climbing over the fence of the cemetery, but she didn't hear anyone anymore, so she assumed they'd given up chase. Still, she kept running. It wasn't good to assume things like that just yet. Miriam ran straight into the nearest alley. Despite the cold that it brought, she was thankful for the night - it made moving about without being spotted much easier. She hid behind a dumpster and observed the area behind her for a moment, checking to see if there was anyone pursuing her.

Miriam gripped her cloak tightly. The girl wasn't physically inept by any means, in fact, years of constantly moving about has made her quite fit, but she was weakened with hunger. Her last meal had been a week ago, and she hadn't drunk anything since yesterday. Even simply running off like this was enough to make her tired now.

Things like this were regular problems for Unnatural's on the run. Food, water, shelter; all these thing were deprived from them. Some had a natural repository of such things; either gifts from supporters or something they've already had in store. Others turned to stealing. It was the only other way left, and the logical choice for people such as them. Miriam, however, has never once and never will steal. She will beg, she will even eat out of the garbage if she had to, but she will not steal. Some people might call her foolish for her choice, but she didn't care. Her own pain wasn't enough to bring her to cause the same for others.

And so Miriam knelt there, waiting for pursuers and prepared to flee as far as she could before passing out.

Near Rockaway Avenue Station, 21:30

After walking for hours, with no map or idea of where she was going, Maribeth was on the verge of giving up and calling it a day at the nearest and crappiest looking hotel to be able to lay low. She had had almost forgotten about the cuffs around her hands as she focused solely on her feet now, the ache getting stronger with each click of her heel. It seemed flying was much easier than walking.

Her head snapped up at the sound of her nickname. A name only a handful knew. "Julius?" The girls head turned every way until spotting him, a wide grin forming as she nearly skipped over to the alley where he had disappeared into.

"It's so good to see you!" She walked over, meaning to hug him but he brought her attention back to the cuffs. "Oh... yeah, here.." She walked up to him, shivering slightly and raised her hands. "I was arrested as soon as I landed. It was time my dad moved on so we thought it best to lay low for a while. I'll try and find him again when the time is right." She looked up frowning at the memory, "They were waiting for my dad and caught me instead. He can't come back to the US ever." Maribeth sighed as she waited for Julius to take the cuffs off, her head turning every now and then to make sure they were alone or at least not being followed. "I would have taken them off, but I would have just unlocked them. I needed another person to open them for me while they were unlocked... With my luck they would get tighter than they already are." She let her do its work, the cuffs rattling until they unlocked, all Julius had to do now was open them.

Once the cuffs were off, she relaxed and rubbed her bruised wrists, quickly covering them up with her coats' sleeves. "So." She stayed quiet for half a second, her mind going back before she had left. "Have you heard of him?" By him, she referred to Diego, but she didn't bring his name up, knowing Julius would guess. "We should probably get out of the rain." She smiled and tugged on his arm before walking the opposite way that they had came from.

Yolanda ran through the rain, cursing quietly at her choice of a simple singlet and jeans. She would be soaked to the bone - but at the moment, there were more important things to worry about. Moving her bag up and over her head to provide at least a little shelter from the cold droplets, she ran towards 7th Avenue Subway Station. Yolanda didn't know where she would go when she got onto that subway, only that she wouldn't stop moving. She couldn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut against the rain and the cold for just a moment.

"I think he's dead." Alu spoke in her quiet voice, just a hint of unsteadiness to it. She was fighting back tears as she looked down at the bird that had crashed into the east facing window of her home. Alu looked up at her sister, a pleading look on her face.

Yolanda looked back at her sister and grimaced slightly. The sweet young girl was right; he was dead. Yet, she seemed to doubt herself. Maybe her big sister could fix it. Maybe her big sister could fix death. Alu thought too highly of her but Yolanda didn't want to disappoint.

"I'll see what I can do, okay?" Yolanda said as she reached for the bird. Her fingers twitched, unsure if she wanted to touch the creature. The bird's wings twitched. She frowned and withdrew her hand, only to have the bird fall forward, as if connected by strings to her fingers. Alu looked up at her sister, her eyes now wide.

"Yolanda, what's happening?"

Yolanda barely heard her as she stood up, her hand still outstretched. The bird followed her lead and jerked up into the air, hanging, clearly dead and yet mimicking life. Alu had stood as well and had run inside, yelling for her parents. The next thing she knew, her mother and farhert were dragging her backwards into the house, away from the bird, who now flopped to the ground as her arm was forced down. She looked down at her hands. What had just happened?

Yolanda tore herself from the memory and found herself at the subway station. Glancing around, she slipped aboard the waiting train, unsure of where it was headed, not caring, and sat down. Her teeth chattered and her hair dripped. She unzipped the bag and removed a jumper that she had luckily made it into her bag. Pulling it on, she wrapped her arms around herself and put her face against hee folded arms, only allowing herself a small, relieved smile as she felt the train begin to move.

Faust Kept walking down the street as the sun had long set, though he thought it best to stick to the back ally ways just in case. He adjusted that peacoat style jacket and pulled the hood up over his head. Soon though he could feel a vibrating in his pocket as he pulled out the cheap flip phone he had got earlier in the day.

"What is it Jeramy?"
"Latest report is the Julius was last seen at Rockaway Avenue sub station" the voice over that phone said
"Two questions, Where is that? and where the fuck am I? I've never been in this city"
"Faust, you're only two blocks away...You're currently in brooklyn near bristol and blake."

Brooklyn, Back alley near Bristol and Blake

"Right, now keep going down Bristol and make a right at Rockaway, and try to remember this is surveillance, not an assassination..."
"Yet, not an assassination Yet" Faust interrupted
"Just try to behave" he said hanging up as faust slipped that phone back into his pocket.

Faust started walking back down heading towards Rockaway whistling some "Somewhere a clock strikes midnight, and there's a full moon in the sky, you hear a dog bark in the distance" he started to sing Night Prowler by AC/DC, and of course he sounded exactly like Brian Johnson. He walked down the street looking around keeping his hands in his pocket as he started to look around to see where his Target was. Though as he approached he was still singing, and was at the tail end of the song.

"I'm your night prowler, asleep in the day
Yes I'm your night prowler, get outta my way
Look out for the night prowler, watch out tonight
Yes I'm your night prowler, when you turn out the light
I'm your night prowler, break down your door
I'm your night prowler, crawling across your floor
I'm the night prowler, make a mess of you, yes I will
Night prowler"

Approached the station as he was wrapping up his song, which he wasn't exactly quite singing. He pulled out his phone and looked at the picture of Julius before looking up and spotting him. He was talking to some woman as he looked at them raising an eyes brow "intresting turn of events." he sat down at on a bus stop bench and leaned back against it. His head was leaned back as he was using his peripheral to watch them as as listened to them. For all intense and purpose he looked no different than anyone else and for the moment not even another trained person could tell he was watching them. It wouldn't be until they are on the move and fallowing them that he would have to be careful.

Sean had made it out of alphabet city after his scrap with the soldiers. There were still three or four soldiers out there, looking for him but by now he assumed they lost him or regrouped somewhere. Sean now walked through downtown Brooklyn, right down avenue D, in and out alleyways It seemed like the safest route, Sean reached into his pocket and much to his dismay what he was looking for was not there. A small slip of paper with hastily written directions to the supposed safe house of empowered or at least the general area of where it was supposed to be. He cussed under his breath and sighed, it didn't help that this city was so fucking confusing.

With silent resignation, Sean decided it wasn't worth it to go back, he was tired and hungry, the latter more so. He walked around for a bit before he finally found a diner, he had a bit of money stashed on him, it wasn't a lot but he could eat for a few days. Sean went in and sat down quickly and ordered a burger and fries, simple and filling. As he ate, he began to think, he'd have to find another empowered, which unfortunately was not easy to do. Either you show off what you can do and hope they reciprocate, or you catch them I'm the act. The best bet was to find a big area and look for the out of ordinary, or catch someone using a power in a small way, it was risky and dumb but his only choice.

Sean threw a few bills on the table and left, he walked for a bit before he saw a large station, an ideal place to people watch for the truly strange, before he even entered the station he noticed a somehwhat suspicious situation; a man sat at a bench and carefully eyes two people across the street, not in a passing matter buy an intent, yet sly gaze making sure they don't go far or do something. It was a streach sure, but it was worth a look, he decided to instigate a little bit. Sean walked across the street acting like he wasn't paying much attention before he got to the two people talking. "Hey, real sorry to bother you, but either of you got the time?" He was at the same time sizing the two up, they both seemed outwardly normal. Save for the man's hair he was normal, looked smart and dressed similarly. The girl was similar, he noticed a brief glimpse of color on her wrist, a tattoo. It was hard to tell what it was not that it mattered, but he'd remember that. At the same time, he was hoping the man at the bench across the street would think he was suspicious or notice the gun jammed down the back of his pants.

Yolanda jolted awake as the train conductor called for all to get off. The end of the line. She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep. How could she be so reckless? Smacking her cheek lightly as a way of waking herself up further, she stood up and joined the small crowd exiting the train. Yolanda eventually stepped out onto the platform and glanced up at the sign that displayed the name of the station.

Rockaway Station. She wasn't sure if she had ever been down this way before, at least not via this route. Shrugging slightly, she moved through the crowd and out into the street, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. Her appearance made that all the more difficult. Squinting through the still falling rain, she spotteda sheltered bus stop with a perhaps less than pleasant looking man sitting on the bench within.

Yolanda gave pause at the man but decided it would be more suspicious not to take a seat. She was just a girl waiting for a bus. Nothing more. Jogging through the rain, she arrived shortly at the bus stop and sat down, perhaps a little further from the man than would be deemed just social etiquette. She set her bag down at her feet and removed her jumper, adrenaline having heated her body.

Timothy gave chase as far as the fence until he gave up. Such was his physical weakness that Miriam was already over the fence and had gained considerable distance whereas he was still inside of the Cemetery. Yet that did not mean that he would give up, for now he sought atonement for bringing disturbance to an unfortunate. Shaking his head at himself in disapproval and mild regret, he walked serenely into the streets, going via the gate proper.

He went by the carcasses of several broken vehicles as he went under the shadow of twin abandoned buildings. The cars blackened and twisted by the effects of flame, they were but a small testament to the great destruction brought about by the Civil War: a very unnecessary evil spawned from the ignorance of man and his predilections towards sin. Indeed, quite a sad display.

Regardless of it, an alleyway, dark, inconspicuous and the nearest wherefrom the girl had climbed over, attracted Timothy’s eye. Perhaps his quarry could be hiding there? With gentle steps, he went into its maw, his figure casting an ominous shadow onto the damp ground courtesy of the streetlamp directly behind him.

“Are you there, stranger?” He called out, his tone of voice placating, the dumpsters and garbage bags particularly having much of his eyes' attention. “I told you, mean no harm. I am just a humble seminary. You look down on your luck; do you need help?”

Life in the war-torn city of New York was considered difficult, but for the escapees and refugees who called the streets their home, this was simply another part of their daily lives. Although suffering from the scarcity of supplies of all kind, most had learned to adapt to these changes. Well, some better than others. As for Luke, the situation he was in now, was basically similar to his life in the past. It was as if he was merely getting back to his roots as thievery and deception once again became a part of his life. Though, this time, it was a tad different.

Idly hanging atop an electric wire above one of the streets of New York, was a stout-bodied bird with a short neck, short slender bills and a fleshy cere. To most of those who noticed, in their eyes was just an ordinary pigeon, but in reality, it was an Unnatural who was scouting the area around him for any possible victims to steal from or individuals that could present themselves as a potential threat. However, what Luke caught in his sights was none of the two.

"Look what we have here."

A few meters away from him, was a young woman. Based on her height, she was probably a teenager, but it was hard to make sure of with most of her person being hidden behind a cloak. This wasn't a first for Luke; he had encountered several individuals alone and struggling on the streets, and during each time, he saw each and every one of them as an opportunity waiting to be taken.

Not wanting to waste the one presented in front of him, Luke took flight and soared downwards towards the young female, softly landing on top of her right shoulder. Hopefully, she would lead him to something interesting.

“I told you, mean no harm. I am just a humble seminary. You look down on your luck; do you need help?”

Miriam cursed her current fatigue. She should have run out of here ages ago, but now he had caught up! The girl debated with herself intensely. Trust or not to trust? It was a hard fight. She'd been raised to instinctively trust a man of the cloth, however the nuns frequently warned her about the wolves in sheep's clothing; or sinners in a priest's robes. If she had a way to discern his true nature, then this would be so much easier. Sadly, she wasn't the kind of Unnatural to posses an ability like that.

Just as she was about to reach a decision (must likely to run) a bird landed on her shoulder.

"Huah!?" Miriam, already nervous and high strung, jumped up in complete surprise, flailing her arms about and hitting her knee on the garbage dump. "Gah!"

T-wa-wa-waaang-ng~! The empty metal container echoed loudly through the night.

The sudden din startled Timothy, but the even more sudden pigeon flapping its wings about the girl added to that effect. The cries of pain from just behind one of the dumpsters made him doubt his actions, that perhaps pursuing this unfortunate fellow was doing more harm than good, but alas, what was done was done, and Timothy could but press on. Standing up from reflexively crouching from when the bird had acted -- and what a scare that had given him! -- the seminary took cautious steps to where the din had emanated.

“Are you okay?”, he meekly asked, peeking over the side of the dumpster to behold a petite feminine figure. “Miss...?”

One hand was already clutching a strap of his backpack in case she needed aid and required his supplies. Should the incredibly unexpected happen, however, there was his M1911A1 tucked safely in one of the easily-accessible side pockets, loaded but unchambered and with the safety switched on. Still, Timothy chided himself for his thoughts straying towards a violent direction. He wouldn’t need his pistol in this case, of course, what was he thinking?! Seems like being on the run has implanted a bit of paranoia into his head. He would have to pray at length tonight...