Roze watched on incredulously as Elijah rang both his mother and his cousin. At first, the idea of a traced call didn't even dawn on her, at the simple shock of her realization that this guy was still in contact with his family. It had never even occurred to her, despite all the talk of his 'Momma', that he still talked with them. That he even had a family.
I've been without family for too long. She thought to herself sadly, feeling almost guilty at the assumption that anyone like her would have no-one to love, or fall back on.
As he laid out their options for her in a voice that had suddenly become serious, she paused, thinking of them. Running and hiding wasn't much of an option. She had a few contacts that she could trust, but none of them were in LA, and there was no way in hell that they could get out of the city now. What with what was going on, it would be on complete lockdown. However, she did know a few safehouses - some that had been set up prior to her involvement with the government, so they shouldn't know about them.
Stepping forward and placing a hand - with an almost sympathetic touch - on his shoulder, she looked up at him.
"In terms of going to help, I'm not sure it's such a good idea. We're pretty high on the list of 'shoot-to-kill', I'd reckon, so showing up and waving a white flag won't do us any favours. But running... look, they probably managed to trace that call, so we need to leave. Bring as much weapons as we can carry, and I can drive us to a safehouse I know about. We can stay there until..." She trailed off, unsure of how to finish her sentence. "Well.... just until." She finished softly, shaking her head slightly. Her mind couldn't help drifting back to all those bodies... why all those innocents? She could understand targeting the FBI, but just civilians...
One thing was for sure.
They were dealing with some pretty sick Metas.

John was taken off guard when someone called him on his cellphone and he answered it. Whoever the person was they told him to go a van that was used by the FBI and that independent hero work was at an end. He was getting use to being on his own and no doubt many other metahumans would despise the idea of working with the government, but John was interested in seeing action so he complied. It took a small series of incredible jumps to get to the van and was taken to a place he didn't really recognize, but he did notice that Light was there as well which meant that she must have been summoned by whoever had called them. The person then introduced themselves as Constantine Ramiel King, and told them about the FBI building being blown up.

"I'm not surprised that the FBI are being targeted, with how the internet is painting the government nowadays, it's only a matter of time before there's another civil war. If I get to crack skulls then I'm in, my time with the government was pretty fun. I hope you're used to seeing blood, because you'll see a lot of it when I start fighting" John said as his hand changed into claws.

"Light, Bio-Beast, good to meet you," spoke Constantine. "Anyway, as I said, we need all the help we can get, and, yes Bio, that involves cracking heads. That said, though, I have a friend just a year younger than your real age; you might want to meet him first." He then turned to Elena.

"Elena, in order to prevent such tragedies from happening...in the forseeable future, I suggest the formation of a Rapid Response Team composed of Metas. Not just that, but we should also take precautions against Copycat massacres." He then smiled.

"In fact, I have three candidates right now for the RRT," the man spoke, pointing to Bio-Beast/John Hammer, Light, and Twist/Pamela. "I know they're not up to your usual standards, but, well, we're short-handed right now.

Sinclair Estate Isle of Wright

"Dame Sinclair again your government thanks you for your aid in the solution of these heinous crimes" says Deputy Assistant commissioner Wilton Hayes holding out his hand for her Lady to shake.
No sooner does she take his hand does the Deputy Assistant commissioner remember what she is capable of.

Oh think nothing of it Mr. Hayes, after all it is my privilege and duty to the crown. Besides to know such a depraved individual is now under the care of the Yard is very satisfying says Elliot with a knowing smile

Mr. Hayes retrieves his hand as quickly as he can hoping that he didn't do anything in the past few days that might embarrass him. He fails to notice though that she is wearing gloves as flustered he says "We at the Yard could certainly use you on a permanent basis; with you on hand we'd have our entire case load empty of unsolved crimes"

You know Mr. Hayes that is not the first time I've heard that and always my answer is that if I were to take such a post then your entire investigation department would simply become my researchers and aids. Also I can't be every where at once. giggles Elliot.

They always ask her about working directly with them even though she has refused every time. She really couldn't blame them but she knew if she ever gave in they'd never give her any peace. She was also aware of how much fear she invoked in many because she could see into their pasts. People didn't like the chance that their dirty little secrets might see the light of day.

She and Mr. Hayes talked for a short time afterwards till she saw him off and the man was relieved to do so.

Her secretary Margaret met her as she came back inside, in her hands the young woman had a stack of requests from almost every investigative group in the EU and from others around the world. She read each request and told Margaret which she required research on before she could render a decision on which case she might be willing to take on in the next month.

Then she went to her study where she saw dancing across the monitor's surface her private E-mail fairy icon. Smiling she sat down at her desk and opened the missive. She was instantly delighted when she saw who it was from, someone she'd met sometime ago. She'd almost given up hope that she'd ever see the lovely belle she'd first met in Yahzoo and even though it was a request for her ability still it would mean they work closely and who knew.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Cypress Unbound

Cypress was dressed in skintight fabrics as she practiced her power skill pushing herself to beyond her limits. her performance and any of Stucorp's people who watched could see why Aperture Labs had hired her. Many who saw how she dressed jumped to the conclusion that Cypress was the type of girl who flaunted her body and she didn't mind that they did so. She in fact wished he suit could be like latex paint because the closer it fitted her the better her zero friction field could mold to her.

Her movements were lightning quick an he directional shifts defied the logic as she changed inertia as much as 180 in one movement while traveling at speeds in excess of 300 mph. Then she would just as suddenly come to a stop by objects weighing over 500 pounds and transfer all that directional inertia sending the target flying.

Cypress was a dynamo of endurance exercising her talent with all her passion, anger and will for nearly two hours. When she came to a stop she was flushed but her breathing normal. She thanked the StuCorp people who'd helped her set up her exercise session then checked the smart phone she'd been given.

She should have probably been worried that these armed guards were taking her to an unseen location but Abagail was as happy as ever. It's not like they were going to do anything nasty to her anyway, I mean because if they did she would just make it so they cared too much to do anything or maybe just make them so sad they cried and forgot all about her. Smiling happily to herself Abagail thought about her latest painting she had insisted that she brought along. Under her arm was the canvas with bright colours splashed all over it. It would probably sell really well when her publisher was told just how good she thought this latest painting was.
So she happily pranced along in between two beefy men with not a worry in the world, as long as Abagail could paint she didn't really care where they took her. It could be planned for her to go to a small prison cell but she knew she could slowly make them turn it into a luxury suite if she made them feel bad enough for her. It wasn't until she saw the Aperture corporations prison did she start feeling a bit uneasy about what was happening.

"Right right. I do some hero stuff on the side, its fun but I usually get in trouble with the cops for some reason or another, I think they hate toons. There is this one detective that just wont get off my case. So this sounds quite nice, since I'll have more authority than them. Plus fighting is fun! Count me in!" Light said with a grin on her face, causing her normally small mouth to be a bit too wide, much like you'd see in a cartoon, accompanied with the same sound effects.

"Anyway, if thats all, lets get going!" Light said, excitedly skipping into the van. She wasn't all that worried about what they would find, often whenever she fought some criminal or whatnot, they gave up when they found out their gun or knife did jack all to her, and she blew herself up on a regular basis for her shows, policy permitting, so when they drove up to the burning wreckage of the FBI branch office which had been blown up using what she thought were some kind of explosives, she wasn't worried about what they'd find there.

"So, who is going in first? Or do you guys wanna wait for the fires to die down? I'll go first if you want, this is exciting!" Light said after everyone reacted to looking at the ruins of the branch office.

"Fight it is then belle." He let out a small smile. It was... Unexpected that Roze would be so... Kind for a lack of a better. While it was sweet and anything to take his mind off the goings on was a welcomed distraction. He patted her hand on his shoulder a few times before removing it. Now was not the time for being cute.

It was then his ears picked up a sound he thought was going to take at least another hour before it got there. "Guess the headhunters weren't too far away." It was the sound of a truck. It had that distinctive tone that was given to vehicles of the military.

"Get behind something. I still got enough in me for a few rounds." With that said he started to raise his body heat. He was trying to burn off The alcohol. If was easy to do for him but it just took some time. A happy turn and it wouldn't be an issue at all. As he walked away from Roze he stumbled a bit but he got better as he walked towards the door.

As he walked outside he couldn't help but noticing the MRAP now stairing him down. He cracked a smile as he saw the man with inhuman eyes. He was a meta, at least this fight was going to be a little fun."Hey man! That thing gotta Hemi init?" This southern accent started to come out a little. He was having fun for now.

A Smiley Face In The Cobra’s Hood…

After the grand metahuman emergence in 2010, the CIA research division immediately went on the look for ways to be able to keep an eye on these dangerous individuals. Three years and half of work, 260 million dollars and a pack of dedicated mad scientists led to the invention of a MSPD (Metahuman Strategic Pursuit Device) also known as a ‘Tick’. The idea was to spread the Ticks around Los Angeles through a Zeppelin airship, hoping that eventually one might stick onto a metahuman. The Ticks would emit a stream of waves detectable by a special satellite set up in the sky. Not a well thought plan, but then again CIA wasn’t renowned for being good at anything. Their project got shut down, a lot of CIA employees were fired while the Agency itself resorted to their old ways; killing people to cover their fuck-ups. Although the mass production of the Ticks was cancelled, some of them made it to the black market. The satellite is still active because the government big shots can’t be arsed to send a crew to disable it in times of crisis such as these.

Jamal, the arms dealer Alec had gutted twenty minutes ago, somehow got his hands on three of these devices. Alec was aware of it for quite some time, but a catastrophe after another led to him rearranging his schedule more than once. Now that he was going to face Nightingale, he needed to make sure that if she did manage to escape from him, she wouldn’t go that far. He had faith in his abilities, but he wasn’t cocky enough to face two B-to-A ranked metahumans without a backup plan. He had previously gathered knowledge on the Ticks; they would activate the moment they touched a soft surface, such as a leather or cotton one, so sticking them on clothes would be the wisest idea. Also, the devices were called Ticks due to their incredibly small size. It was truly wondrous how a small device such that was capable of transmitting so much information.

The intel the MHRC contact so gladly provided Alec with marked a hideout in West Hollywood as the fire meta’s lair. The possibility that the whole thing might just be a set up crossed his mind a couple of times, but then again he managed his way out of a lot of traps. The MHRC guy was maybe a tad too eager to provide him with information, and making a phone call was too big a mistake for a merc of Elijah’s caliber, but there’s a fine line between analyzing and overthinking, a line which Miller avoided crossing. He parked his car a few feet away from the place, so as to not attract any unwanted attention. The engine turned off and moments later, a suited-up Alec came out of the car, a silver cigar box slightly visible in one of the suspender’s pouches. This was the first time in a long while that Alec was completely embracing his Lighthouse persona. It was already noon, so he didn’t look that silly wearing a black spec ops suit alongside a black mask. There were a lot of domestic animals, ranging from dogs to cats, but no human beings around, so Alec, or rather, Lighthouse, was safe from the public eye.

As a result of a devastating attack on their HQ, Lighthouse was not expecting any FBI agents in the area. That didn’t mean that they wouldn’t show up eventually, so he had to convince the duo to take their business elsewhere. Suddenly, quick flashes of dead bodies interrupted his steady progression towards the fugitive’s place. He stopped for a minute to recover himself. “Could it be coming back?”, the meta thought to himself. He was breathing heavily, like he just came out of a ring after wrestling a grizzly bear, only the grizzly bear in this case were his repressed memories. The brief scuffle with the gang may have triggered something that Alec wanted to be concealed.

Right as he got his shit together, the door leading to the cobra’s hood opened, and the cobra himself popped up. He spoke something in English, barely understandable if you never met a redneck before. In an effort to lure the man into a false sense of security, Alec responded in a deluge of sweet words;

“That thing…”, he paused for a second, pointing at the MRAP with his thumb “can save your life, but not if you keep standing at the door cracking jokes. Now escort the lady out of your place and let’s go. The FBI will be here any minute.”

Roze watched on uncomfortably as Elijah stumbled out of the house, unsure of whether or not to take his advice. While deciding, she swiftly returned to the bathroom, taking off her shorts and pulling on the jeans, lacing up some black combat boots and waiting hesitantly in the bathroom. Now, a few days ago, she would have been out of the back door in no time, leaving Elijah to whatever was outside. But now, after all that had happened, she felt reluctant to betray him like that. Cracking the bathroom door open, she listened to the conversation going on outside. The guy was a Meta? Perfect. She had been expecting some form of authority figure to find them first, not some Merc, as she assumed that's who he was.
FBI gonna be here any minute? She thought to herself as she listened in. A bluff? Or not? Either way, we're screwed.
Exhaling sharply, Roze lifted one clenched hand, staring at her fist with a frown, and it ignited in flickering blue light. Now, the question remained, would she be aiding or making things worse for Elijah by going out there? She had some fight left in her, but sometimes, solo work was so much more effective than two going at it, especially if a plan hadn't been worked out prior to the battle engagement.
However, she had no interest in hiding in the bathroom like some silly little maiden from a storybook, acting as a damsel in distress needing a hero to rescue her. Opening the door and stepping back into the main room, she lingered out of sight by the front door, standing by in case things took a turn for the worse for Elijah.

Elijah tapped on the hood of the MRAP. "I never liked riding in these. Infact I hated everything that wasn't a plane or chopper. Hummer was fun for a bit out in that g-d forsaken desert man." He let out a chuckle before going on. "I remember one time we got caught out in a firefight in Baghdad. Me and Harper were going to hold the fort while the others got out in Hummers. They said another thousand were coming for our heads. We Stayed and held out till air support could evac us. Me and Harper made it out alive, while those Hummer's... Never made it back. I liked our chances then, and I like our chances now. So... No, I believe no, I believe not. FBI has too much to do right now to come after me or the girl. So yall go on about your bidness and have a nice day." Elijah smiled politely at the man, showing no fear. Only ready to snap his fingers should this go south.

<I found them. What now?>

Alto looked over the message he'd typed out on his phone. His finger hovering over the send button. Looking up, he saw his targets, Elijah and Nightingale, as well as someone he didn't know. Obviously, they were discussing something or other. He was considering sending the message to his mysterious employer, but at the moment he really didn't know what to do.

He could just send the message, which would complete the job and maybe free up the rest of the night. On the other hand, he could jump down from his rooftop and ask them what they were talking about. In all honesty, he was liking the latter option more. Not for any particular reason, just that he like being a loose canon. It got you into more interesting situations.

It had been a massive pain in the ass trying to track them down, he'd spent all day doing it. They were good at covering their tracks. He'd tried a lot of things to try and find them, but he ended up using surveillance footage anyway. There were very few cameras that even caught a glimpse of their vehicle, but he was able to follow a very vague trail to the general area where they would be. He'd spent the previous hour or two trying to find their stolen vehicle, when he had chanced upon the dude he was looking at which he didn't know.

The dude was in what appeared to be stealth gear. It was kind of getting dark, but he still looked a little bit weird because he was walking in the middle of a civilian area. Alto didn't know what that guy wanted, and he couldn't hear the conversation properly from his vantage point. He wasn't that close because he didn't want to be noticed, but it was proving slightly detrimental.

From what he could make out, the black-ops guy was maybe trying to get them into his car? And Elijah didn't look keen on moving. Nightingale looked like someone on standby, sort of standing just at the door of what was probably their hideout. Probably shouldn't send the message yet. He decided.

Peeking out from his hiding spot, he scouted the way around so that he could move as stealthily as possible. Route planned, he took an extremely roundabout route to his target. He circled around the meeting, a house or two between him and the trio at all times. Coming out from behind their hideout, he tried as silently as he could to climb over the fence and creep up to the back door. He tried the doorknob, and it didn't budge. Damn it. He thought silently. Roof it is.

Getting up on a roof is an extremely difficult task to do quietly, but somehow Alto manage it. Making himself as small as possible, he crawled up as far as he dared, hoping that no one had noticed him. Then again, he was also kind of hoping someone did.

((Collab Post between Letter Bee and Aura))

As the Aperture Corp car arrived within sight of Avalon, Aperture's privatized prison, they heard what could be a whirring of helicopter rotors, which in turn came from a craft that held the FBI insignia, a craft that seemed to come from the clouds themselves. The men would feel surprised, and, furthermore, stunned, as the time for open conflict with the FBI hadn't come yet, and they were still technically under Government authority. However, what cause had the FBI to interfere in Aperture affairs, at least this time?

This question was answered when a voice sounded from a loudspeaker in the helicopter, which said:

"Patient #7796, also known as Abigail Rose, has been remanded to the custody of the FBI. She is not to be taken to the Sleeper Facility, Avalon, but rather to be transferred to FBI custody. Failure to do this will consitute several charges, among them..."

The Aperture members paused a while to talk among themselves, trying to think of a response.

Starting to feel edgy Abagail was about to start making the guards let her go, or at least forget about her presence for a moment while she ran as far as she could get. That plan was quickly swept under the rug though when a helicopter came out of nowhere tearing apart the bushes and trees nearby. This seemed to me getting more and more serious by the moment and not liking the idea of going with either parties she dropped her new favorite painting on to the ground. Standing still she willed those around her to remember their biggest loss.

Soon she hope she would be away from these two muscley men and towards an art store to pick up some new paints and easels.

The Aperture men fell down, crying, and she can hear sounds of weeping from the FBI plane, too. However, as quickly as she started sprinting for it...something darted out from the helicopter - a drone!

Said drone was clearly new, shaped like a sphere resembling the interrogation droid from Star Wars: A New Hope, but white and chrome instead of black, and much more nimble. No, in closer resemblance, it resembled a smaller Death Star, and it was shining with deflector shields.

Abigail didn't know this, but the drone was remote-controlled, and, furthermore, was equipped with Metahuman-made stunning lasers.

And, well, it fired said stunning lasers at her.

Leaving the crying grown men Aby ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She didn't know if she would get too far before they started to recover so she looked behind her hoping that she couldn't see them. Instead she saw a flying metal ball coming after, she stopped for a moment in shock at the droid. It only lasted a moment though as a blast of electricity ran through her body. In shock and pain she fell to the floor and then she was no longer conscious enough to wonder what she had gotten herself into.

Several FBI members, now freed from her power, took away the young woman and carried her off to the helicopter, where more drones were waiting just in case she woke up. It seemed as though the Reform Faction had won this day.

Dance With The Devil..

"Damn", Alec thought, impressed at how fast the meta saw through his facade. He was unsure if the man's story was real, or if it was just an attempt to mock him. Sure, it wasn't too far-fetched to presume a well-built guy like him served in the army, but the way how he talked about his past experience resembled your typical one-liner moments from those recycled Hollywood war flicks. Most former-soldiers refuse to open up to their therapist, let alone to a stranger, armed to the teeth and after their head. And 1,000 insurgents? What war was he fighting? The Crusades? As much as he disliked his smug face, Alec did see a lot of himself in Elijah though. His stern gaze of determination, his calm demeanor, his trust issues, all traits that defined the roughened former-soldier. That didn't mean Alec would refrain from bashing the meta's head to the concrete, should he keep his stubborn attitude for the duration of this convo.

If there was something Alec learned as a kid in the 80s, is that knowing is half the battle, thanks to the G.I Joe TV series. He always performed a little analysis on his opponents before the battle transitioned to the gory parts, and this was no different. Via his penetrative vision, Alec scanned Elijah down to the bone. Turns out his abilities had a broader use than just setting fire to people, as he was burning a considerable amount of what appeared to be alcohol, therefore maintaining his sobriety. This meant that Bonnie and Clyde here had a small banquette, and one of the reasons that the woman was cowering behind the door was because she may be wasted, unless she possessed a similar power to her partner. After concluding his analysis, he tapped into his brain and turned off his vision.

Only then, did he take a glimpse of the shady figure crawling in the roof. Were the couple harboring another meta? It wouldn't be logical, because why would he hide in the roof if he was friends with the two? There was no way he was a normal human, as it was difficult to sneak up on Alec like that. Then it hit him. Alec himself received a recruitment message by some FBI talker. It seemed the Bureau was hiring metas to do their jobs. That was a piece of valuable information Alec decided to use in as a last-ditch effort to prevent blood from being spilled.

"You think the FBI have their hands full? Try again.", he said, maintaining a consistent tone throughout. He slowly opened the door to his MRAP with his right hand, his left one raised above his chest so as to tell the trigger-happy metas that he's not pulling any trick. He raised his right hand, holding his phone tightly as it displayed that said recruitment message. "I have reasons to believe the FBI are mobilizing a unit comprised of metahumans, specialized in dealing with the likes of you. One of them is already here.", Alec uttered, pointing at the roof with his index finger. He was hoping the shady figure really was a friendly, cause that would be embarrasing afterwards. "So, the way how I see it, you have three options. The first option is; come with me. Your lady friend may have information that will help me in my hunt for the TV man. I'll ask her a couple of questions and then you'll be good to go.", a half-truth spewed from the meta's mouth. Nightingale was still under the government's payroll so she was welcomed back in case of a change of heart, but he never negotiated with cold-blooded psychos like Elijah. Even if the duo agreed to get in the car, a clash between him and the A-ranked meta was inevitable.

After a brief pause, he continued listing the other options "Second option; you can go with the FBI. You'll be hooked to a straight jacket in a high-security prison so deep underground that you'll even get to touch Satan's head. I wouldn't advise it. And then you got the third option which is the one where you die." For a moment or so after he finished his sentence, all was silent. Alec looked at Elijah before darting his gaze towards the door, where the silhouette of a woman could be seen. "What's your choice?", a strong-willed Alec finally spoke after what seemed like an endless intermission.

"The central office for the FBI has been destroyed. Meaning to me, the chain of command has been shattered it'll be a while before they get their ducks in a row long enough to worry about where I am. Wounded pride will take a higher priority. Case in point, you're here... Alone. Whoever is on the roof is an independent contractor." He could only hope he was right. As he stood there looking into unblinking eyes he knew he was talking a former solder. He wasn't regular army, no this man commanded too much respect and attention to be regular army. Rangers? MRASOC? SEAL team? It would be impossible to tell by talking to him. However if hair was any indication, he was SEAL team, probably SOCOM. He was almost proud that who ever sent him felt like commanded so much.

"Tell you what, I'm not too hard to get along with. You can ask your questions here. In there." Elijah said thumb pointed at the door. "Or you can tell me if this this thing has a a Hemi init and get the fuck out of here. You walking through that ain't anymore if a trap than us getting than truck." He was again smiling and trying to avoid a conflict. He did however have places to go and things to do.

John listened to Constantine talk to Elena and then he heard him talk about standards.

"What type of standards do you people have? I have worked with the government before, I know all about the whole discretion and secrecy as well as being efficient in strike forces" John said to the two of them. He then listened to Light talk about the police and how they might not like cartoons.

"Police don't goof around in the field, most people don't in life or death kinds of jobs. I've had my own run in with the authorities, but they mean well and I do have tendency to go overboard when it comes to independent hero work" he said to Light. He wondered how this little strike team would work out and if they would be able to work well enough as a team, teams tended to have conflicting personalities and ideologies.

"Sure," spoke Constantine to Light, "go in first; perhaps you might find either evidence, or additional survivors. Actually, I would like you to go head for the communications bunker; I'll show you the way with my powers." And with that, the man sent out an image of the map to the comm bunker direct to Light's eyes and brain. Should Light go to the comm bunker, or dig her way inside, she would find Cedric and William, the former a 15-year old kid clad in child-sized military gear, with brown hair and blue eyes and looking like a child star, only more rugged. The latter, meanwhile, was a tanned soldier with blond hair dyed black, and eyes that were blue. Both looked...wary of Light's coming, especially William.

"Have you come to rescue us?" spoke Cedric. "Did Elena and Constantine send you?"

---

Once Light had left, Constantine would answer Bio-Beast/John Hammer.

"Standards? Well, no killing civilians, no excess collateral damage to property, and make sure to capture if it's possible for you to do so. Killing is allowed only if there's no other alternative." I want to kill someone, but that's just me; I won't force my views on others, at least not now. "Right now, though," he spoke, thinking up an idea, "another part of your job is to be showy and distracting; you need to attract enemy attention and turn it from our attempts at rebuilding."

"You and Light can work together on that."

((Collab Between Letter Bee, Mass City, and WatermelonTango))
((Note: This is not the collab between Letter Bee and NarcsissticPotato that was spoken of in the OOC Thread; that's much later))

StuCorp
Garion 'Gary' Stuart fumed. Apparently, his attempt to protect the Pro-Metahuman Protesters got shot down (which was admittedly for the better), while his attempt to protect the Anti-Metahuman Protests from being killed by Supervillains also failed, and now said Anti-Metahuman protesters have martyrs on their camp. And, now, the FBI Building got bombed, and the President was about to declare Martial Law. He also heard from Cedric that Elena, now the highest-ranking FBI officer in LA, refused to believe that the attack came from Aperture, even though Aperture was already conducting illegal detentions (aka detentions outside of the privatized prison they already own), and inhumane human experiments.

Why couldn't he just release the evidence? Simple; because Aperture had already erased the evidence as soon as it had been discovered. Nevertheless, he knew, and it was enough. He then turned towards one of his assistants, and spoke:

"I need a confidence boost. Who wants me to take them through a tour of my secret projects?"
Anise Gillard, one of Gary's most loyal assistants raised a hand. She has known Gary for long enough that sometimes it's best to humor him. It keeps him in good spirits to be able to show his stuff off once in awhile. She pulled out her notepad, prepared to take whatever notes she would be expected to take.

"Thanks, Anise!" said Gary, smiling. "Let's do this!" And with that, the man then began walking, with a note of eagerness, towards the R&D section of StuCorp, where, a few minutes later, they arrived at a room where technicians were using remote control to move a bunch of globe-shaped droids who looked like Mini-Death Stars. The CEO of StuCorp then spoke:

"As you know, one of the most paranoia-inducing Metahuman powers is Mind Control, which can ruin the cohesion of a group of sapient beings whose only ties are their loyalty to each other. Thankfully, Mind Control has a weakness that it needs a certain range in order to be effective, and outside that range, well...that's what these droids are for." He then waved to one of the technicians.

"These droids can be auto-piloted or remote-controlled by personnel outside the range of any potential psychic below S-class. They also contain deflector shields, stunning lasers, robotic arms. and an instant shutdown switch that activates within one nanosecond of detecting technopathy. With these, we can capture Metahumans with Mind Control or Mind Reading as their power, and, well, put them away." He then smiled.

"What do you think? You have a quick mind; can you think up any flaws in this approach, or improvements that can be made?"

Anise looked over the design thoughtfully. She is well educated, having taken many courses in the various sciences in order to earn her this position and be given the honor to work at StuCorp. But she had trouble imagining any changes she'd made to such complex technology. However, in the light of recent attacks, one thing came to mind.
"Robotic responders are something that everyone believes are necessary, to reduce the risk of human casualty. Can these drones be used to combat other forms of metahumans? Like explosive wielders, perhaps?" Anise finished as she eyed the strange round designs of the robots.

"See, I knew you were brilliant!" spoke Gary. "Anyway, well, it depends on the explosive wielder's power. If their ability is to project explosive beams or projectiles from their hands, then these nimble droids can avoid those. If their ability is to make things explode, on the other hand, well, let's just say that the deflector shields grant limited protection from that kind of thing, but as said shields have to be let down for the orbs to release their stun lasers...not so much." He then smiled wryly.
"Thanks for pointing that out."

"And may I ask aside from your own ego for whom will you sell this to?" asked another, male, assistant, Trevor. "I mean these weapons are cool and all but we need to make money."

"Already sold 100 test units to the FBI," he spoke before checking his smartphone, "and it seems as though they put them to good use, too; capturing an Emotion Controller. Other FBI branches in Seattle, San Francisco, and Portland have also decided to buy more after the attack on LA."

"Yes individual FBI branches. But not the whole FBI. Boss the President landed at Andrews 20 minutes ago and flew to the White House the meeting he is having there will most likely mean martial law and not the kind where the local National Guard is running it. This is regular Army, Marines, Navy, Air Force. I have not included speial forces teams being sent to LA. You really think they'll listen to you? Their minds are made, you aren't gonna make a dent in it. No matter how cool your stuff is." Trevor sighed, "It is cool by the way."

"Thanks," spoke Gary, "and, yeah, you're right; so, unless Elena somehow shells out a few dozen million dollars, we won't be able to break even unless Aperture finally tips its hand and reveals its dirty laundry, which in turn is hard because, well, my brother failed to rescue the Technopath they've captured, and Elena continues to disbelieve that said Technopath was following Aperture's orders when - Let's move to other business." And with that, Gary Stu moved to another room, where a group of scientists were experimenting on what seemed to be silver circlets.

"You guys have already heard my lecture on Mind Control, so I don't need to repeat it. Anyway, as you know, direct resistance to Mind Control is far preferable to drones. Normally, this is achieved through mental training and exercise, but, here's a scary little fact: it doesn't always work. That's why, for both our use and others, we're developing these Chrome Circlets, which, when placed on the head, guard one from Mind Control. Not merely that, but here's the thing: despite their metal exteriors, each circlet is biological, as in, they're made from living organisms placed within a hard shell. That makes them immune to the Technopaths my competitors are employing."

"Biological methods of resisting mind control?" Anise said with an impressed expression on her face, "That's something that I've never heard of before! Do these organisms you mention require any form of upkeep, like feeding?"

"They're photosyntethic; the Chrome Shells are actually a new material that allows light to enter one way, then absorbs it, meaning that most of the light isn't reflected in a way that makes it look translucent," remarked Gary, waiting for Trevor.

"Okay. So what else is there with these?" asked Trevor.

"Nothing," spoke Gary. "Now let's go to the next invention!" And with that, the redhead led the two to a room where two Imitation Iron Man suits were being constructed, one for an adult, and one either made for a midget or a child. "Who can guess what these are?!" he said in a sing-song voice.

"You want to be Iron Man?" Trevor sighed.

"Are we training a branch of specialized anti-metahuman personal?" Anise asked, wondering who else would need such elaborate equipment.

"No, no," spoke Gary, "although that latter idea sounds awesome! Rather, these are for two FBI Agents, my adoptive brother Constantine - Consty to his friends - and his protege, Cedric Wessex." He then moved closer. "Fun fact, the ones behind the FBI's hiring of seecret Child Soldiers, that's Aperture, or rather, Aperture's faction in the Gov't. But soon, that piece of dirty laundry will be revealed as well!" Gary then lifted up his hand and did the 'L' sign for no reason except that it looked cool.

"Aperture should be quivering in their boots with you on the case, sir!" Anise said with a good humored grin on her face.

"They may be confident but they must convince the President the military will fail. That will take a longer than one attack on a few generals. That will take days, possibly weeks, at least that is the good side about martial law. It gives us time."

"True, true," spoke Gary, "and time, my friends, is something we can use well..."
END

Light nodded at the instructions she was given, just happy to do some sort of hero work without someone getting on her case. Though Constantine giving her a quick psychic map made her flinch a bit afterwords. She only caught parts of the instructions that Constantine gave Bio Beast, or John, or whatever, she didn't really care all that much. All she caught was 'find comms bunker, make a big distraction, no killing' which was ok with her.

Coming up to the smoldering ruined building, Light decided to take the most direct route to the comms room, which was apparently encased in steel according tot he map sh ewas given. The entrance of the building wasn't ruined as much as the stairways and offices deeper in the building, but the fact that there were electrical sparks and the like coming out of the ruined metal scanners near the front desk did annoy her quite a bit, especially when she had to get around it and caused a loud "ZAAAP" sound to reverberate through the ruined building of her getting her dress caught on one of the live wires for a moment, her body lighting up for the couple seconds she was touching the wire but otherwise being alright afterwords.

The ruined innards of the building were for the most part, actually easier to go through due to Light just needing to toss rubble aside, some small bits flying out of the ruins as she plowed through what was unrepairable debree until she made her way to the comms bunker, finding two soldiers, one young and one adult, maybe father and son if they didn't look so vastly different inside it who wondered who she was and who sent her.
"Oh, hi kiddo. Sorry, not doing a show today. Guess I'm here to rescue you two. The roman emperor guy... Constantine I think, sent me here to reclaim this area." Light said, picking some rubble out of her hair while shaking dust off her dress. It took a minute for Light to register that she was talking to what accounted to be a child soldier, or at least, teen soldier. She didn't think much of the adult soldier who was far more wary of her cartoonish appearance than the teen soldier.
Scratching her head, she asked. "Wait... is he a meta or something? Isn't there some sort of law about the draft not being allowed to recruit people who aren't 18?" Light paused a bit to wait for them to reply before gesturing at the path she had dug through the rubble, escorting the two to make sure they got back to Constantine in one piece. This time she threw the broken electronics out of the building, getting zapped again and lighting up, showing a strange hollow-stick looking skeleton, so that the two could pass through, Light following soon after, cursing a bit at being electrocuted again.

The White House
The sun shone into the Oval Office as twilight was coming. The President sat behind to the Resolute Desk he looked upset. Davis Lawton sat in a wooden chair next to the President's desk. Sitting in front of the President was various high ranking officials. They sat on red, white and blue sofas, while others sat on chairs.

On the sofas was House Speaker Greene, Defense Secretary Burke, and Attorney General Milner in the right one and in the left one sat General Ramirez, FBI Director Grantham, and Senator Garrison. In the chairs sat the CIA director, Secretary of Homeland security, the Treasury Secretary, and the National Security Advisor.
The room was quiet as the recent estimates of casualties from Disney enter and FBI came in. White House Chief of Staff Lawton spoke first. "How the hell did this happen?!"
"We don't know sir." replied the FBI director, "but it won't happen again."
"It won't because the military will be running things in LA from this point on." General Ramirez calmly spoke as Grantham glared.
"The House will support the President's move toward martial law," Speaker Greene leaned forward.
"Same with the Senate." Senator Garrison turned to face the President. The Treasury secretary, a monied Wall street manager smiled. "This will prevent a panic in our markets. The NYSE has taken a hit today and may not recover for several more days,"

Lawton shook his head, "So we're in agreement that martial law must happen." the President spoke up. The assembled groups voiced their agreements. "Any outliers?"
"Sir what about using private industry to help with the search?" Senator Garrison spoke after taking a swig of water.
"You mean mercs?" asked the Secretary of Defense as he turned looking upset.
"Private security contractors not limited by the law," Garrison stood up. The President shook his head no,
:"Not going to do it. We will activate Aurora Damocles. Along with Sending Marines from Twenty-Nine Palms, Fighters from Edwards, and troops from Irwin." The President recited the plan of troop movement into LA.
It was not a pleasant thing but the military was now needed to keep order. All in the room knew the military force would convince all of those that attaked LA that it was time to hide or find greener pastures. No way would they stay with the NSA watching every camera, military troops patrolling the Sunset strip, and fighters flying overhead.

LA was a city under siege and her local defenders had failed. Now the federal government had to step in and say "No!"

The President stared at the papers on his desk. He looked at the people in the room. "General get boots on the ground in LA ASAP. Milner I want all legal arguments for martial law, Burke give the general whatever he needs." The President faced the men from across the aisle in Congress. "I trust you men can get the votes for martial law?" The Senator and House speaker both said yes.

"Good once our plans kick into high gear I want these SOB's found. This is a government matter and we will solve it. The meeting is dismissed."

After most of the ranking people left it was just the president and Lawton. "Davis I want to to talk to the surviving FBI agent that is highest on the pole. We gotta talk with them and put together a plan of attack that the Bureau can carry out as revenge for the bombing."
"Yes sir Mister President ." Lawton was about to leave when the president cleared his throat.
Dave, I want you to know I would rather have no mercs at all on this one. Too much press and they'd react better to our young men and women than troops serving a massive multinational. I have made my mind up and have little interest in changing it."

"Will do boss."

LA
Elena Reyes for some reason sneezed...

She was working with her fellow agents on clearing rubble from FBI HQ and the Disney center investigation. Her plate was awfully full.

Chasing Cars...

"He isn't buying it", an annoyed Alec grunted. What was anticipated to be a battlefield was instead replaced by a podium where two grown men, working for opposing factions, tried to up one another by throwing in assumptions. Alec wasn't that good at detecting lies, but he could sense Elijah had no idea what was happening either. He threw another look at the ninja on the roof, confused as to why he was still trying to save his cover. They were already mindful of his presence. His gaze, then, shifted to Elijah, who finally granted him the blessing to begin his interrogation - not like he needed a blessing, especially from a smug asshole like him. His continuous questions about whether the MRAP had a hemi engine were rather irritating, so he just put an end to them with a quick "No, it doesn't have one.", before taking a few confident steps towards the stairs.

The more stairs he passed, the slower his pace got, perturbed by the thoughts that the meta behind him may try a surprise attack. The hero secretly activated rational mode; while it wouldn't do anything when it came to stopping any possible attack, it would alert Alec whenever there was a sudden move. The ability did have a drawback; while active, it imbued Alec with a healthy dose of paranoia, making it difficult for him to focus on a single face as a result. The woman, Nightingale, was standing by at the front door when Alec finally reached. He couldn't make out her entire face, but what he could see was enough to conclude that she was rather pretty, a beauty Miller couldn't appreciate. His fiancée's death had left him unable to focus on anything else but business.

"Let's go on with the first question", the meta spoke, his voice muffled due to the mask. "When you fought Elijah, was there another person in there with you? Perhaps a child?", he finished, awaiting the woman's response.

---

"This is no fun!", Jenni exhaled, disappointed she didn't get the chance to spill some blood. Dean actually considered letting her have a piece of the action for a moment, but the welcomed arrival of the other metas, one of them an FBI agent, spared him the pain. Either way, he was still rather unfazed by her occasional hateful comments. Although there was the possibility that she could take Dean's body over and lay some vengeance, she still was still his sister and he considered her like one. The hero stood by the FBI meta, Constantine, as the cartoon poster girl worked her way down the rubble, volunteering to find any survivors. A couple of electric noises later and the survivors could be barely seen emerging from, what once was, the FBI HQ.