### Karlie Davis All the fine details of the situation went over Karlie’s head. What mattered is that she had met a kindred spirit, at least in the sense that they both didn’t know where anything was at in Westgate. “Oh, no worries. Maybe we can look together? You for a place to stay, and me for a place to wash my clothes!” If anything she sounded more excited that Lily in the same boat as her. Karlie had hardly met anyone in Black Fall yet and she’d like to think they’d be friends. More so than usual, because she would befriend just about anybody. Unless they worked for the government. A bias based on her past run ins with the law. “You know…” Karlie trailed off in thought. “I bet the closest motel also has a laundromat, or one nearby.” It did make sense since other people staying in town would need access to one. That made things a little simpler now that they only had to find one place. As a last resort she could pitch in some cash so Lily could stay at one of the nicer and easy to find hotels. Heck, even though they’d barely met she’d sooner offer that she sleep in her van than out in the elements. Despite her appearance Karlie was certain that Lily was a kind soul. The way talked and carried herself clashed with the punk vibe she was giving off. Even then it doubtfully would have changed anything. If Karlie wasn’t so incorruptible, or perhaps just airheaded she might have taken after some of the bad crowds she hung out with in the past. The biggest threat to her identity was no person, but her own dressup habit. “Soooo… what brings you to Black Fall?” It was a simple enough question to get a conversation started. Walking with somebody in silence was something that Karlie just couldn't do. Even in the face of one line answers, or none at all. She would keep on yapping so long as there was somebody to listen. What did though was the struggle she was having with her bulging sack of clothes. _Maybe I should drag it behind me, that is what reindeer's do right?_ Her clothes were going to get wet anyways, so that wasn’t a problem so long as the sack held. “If this was full of presents I’d be just like Saint Nick!” She commented aloud. Of course she knew that Santa wasn’t real, but what she did fail to realize was that real reindeer weren’t used to pull sleighs. What made it easier was the laws of physics (of which she knew next to nothing about), not her silly costume. It didn’t make a difference to her though. Karlie wasn't aware of half the abilities her outfits gave her. She had attended Academy 218 and her answer on the matter was still ‘they just work’.

[u]Henry Olin[/u] --- Henry looked down as he saw he was getting a call from his partner. The OTHER giant reptile in the city. Godzilla and Gamera bffls. He hit the answer button, with a quick, "Hey babe, you called?", only to have Fred treat him in that stupid professional manner that he always did while on the phone. Like, shit man, they're practically brothers. Why so serious? "Fred, first off," Henry started, "No need to call me agent anything man. I'm your mate." he said. He tuned up the radio to hear a few communications between agents. Apparently Fred had fought and beat some dude by the name of the Magician into submission. Lots of drugs, apparently something to do with the Corvo's name. Henry's expression solidified from it's casual and relaxed position to a much more serious face. "I'll be there soon. Stay safe, bud." he said, before hanging up. Shit. Jack would not be happy about this. Jack was a source of his. He turned a blind eye to anything Jack did, in exchange he got information. The kind of 'You scratch my back and I scratch yours' relationship that only started budding when they happened to meet at the same bowling alley that one time and Fred slipped and slid down the alleyway the whole way down. It was a good time. Henry put his car in gear, and sped off towards Chinatown. --- "So, what did you need me for, Freddy?" He said, a smile plastered to his face. "Getting rid of mountains of cocaine?" He said, "Or do we need to incinerate it? What's the plan? Keeping any for the court trial?" Henry said, walking over to the hood of the truck and taking a look at the huge bag he had moved into plain sight. "Damn." He said, refusing to smell the air normally in fear of accidentally getting high as a kite. Because being real the air was probably 150% supersaturated with cold hard Coke. The good stuff too. Psychedelic Tyrannosaurus. He looked down as a little kid pointed over to him and a few adults took a few pictures of him and Fred next to one another. Being the person he was, Henry flared up his feathered and grabbed Fred by the shoulders, opening up his jaws wide as if he were about to roar or shoot a beam of atomic energy at him. While Chinatown was China and not Japan, there were people of all ethnicities in the area and most of them could enjoy a good Godzilla joke in an center of eastern culture. It was harmless joke after all, and they were doing a drug bust! Henry smiled and put two fingers up for the camera in a peace sign and let go of Fred. He looked over at his friend from the corner of his eyes for a moment. "You put a power collar on him, right?" He questioned. He had HEARD the Magician was a teleporter, and a van wouldn't stop him if Fred somehow forgot. After all, he had made that mistake. ...a lot...

**Current Time:** 6:26 PM As the day went by, the superhumans of Black Fall went about their day, they all kept one common location in mind for their destination: the annual Christmas fair. No matter the path they took there, they all would end up there. And several hours later, once evening fell upon Black Fall, the celebration had begun in Arcadia Heights. People from all over the East coast came to this event. Alone, with friends, with family - it all didn't matter. They were here. The sun was going down, and snow still lightly fell. The streets of Arcadia Heights were closed off to cars (Save a few roadways so people can get to and from the location), and so were the stores. What had taken the place of cars were vendor stands, and games you would see in amusement park (Rides, Highstriker, and etc). All lined up on the sidewalks so everyone freely could walk in the street. Fixed above were Christmas decorations and moody orange lights on the power cables. However, the streets of Arcadia Heights themselves were not where the main attraction was. They were in the waterways and creeks that make up the city. Boats that were decorated with Christmas themed decorations were flowing through the rivers. Yachts, Sailboats, and more, were all on full display today. All of which are populated by those wealthy enough to afford them, or generous enough to let other people party of them. These boats were all over the waterways all the way to the Golden River in between New and Old Black Fall. The Golden River was the boat's ultimate destination. Where everyone would be watching. However, because of the high Meta-human presence, there was a just as high NEST and police presence. There was a pair of NEST within every block. Heavily armed, and patrolling. Their objective was to simply deter crime by maintaining a strong presence, and providing a _good_ reason not to cause trouble. They did the same thing last year, and the year before that, with minimal incidents. Usually they bag a few thieves and troublemakers, and stop kids from pranking others. But, the question was... ... Are they ready once a _real_ threat rolls around? --- _Deborah, & Aisha "Newt" Javuant_ **Song:** [Delphic - Colours of the Day](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMYc-7Tp0Ks) --- **5:21 PM** After dealing with Jago and Newt, Deborah simply reclined for the rest of the day. She would have gone back to the Mean Bean, but she felt that she would meet Holly and the others again at the Fair (Well, it wasn't her power). Until the time came to actually go to the Fair, Deborah found herself in the living room. A large room that had such an open design that it was connected to all the other rooms. One sofa was one side, and a TV on the other side. She was lying across the sofa, her legs kicked out. With Jago's black Dre Beat headphones (He wasn't using them, so he better not toss a fit) around her ears. Listening to Jamiroquai and other funk songs by them - at the moment she was listening to You Give Me Something by Jamiroquai. Okay, she admitted that it wasn't the best way to pass time, but she didn't know what else to do right now. She was simply bobbing her head to the beat. But, she hadn't been paying attention - feeling completely safe in her home, after all- since a swift blow to the sofa nearly made it tumble over. "The hell-" She shouted as she had to readjust herself to make sure she didn't fall off. She immediately got up on her behind and looked behind the sofa... Of course, it was Newt. God damn that girl doesn't know how to act sometimes. "Newt..." Deborah moaned, as she leaned over the back of the sofa and inspected the damage. Talking to Newt at the same time, "... You could have said something, you could have kicked the sofa in half, you know...." Deborah gave her younger sister a raised eyebrow. "Oh, I know." Newt smiled. "I just thought it'd be funny." Causing Deborah to sigh again. "You ready to go?" She asked Newt, but before she did anything, she had to see what the hell her younger sister was wearing. Since Newt had a habit of dressing up like a street walker (Lord help this little girl). Actually, for once, Newt was dressed fine... she probably knew what would happen if she tried it. Newt was wearing a black padded winter jacket with a fur muff, and a dark-green shirt underneath it. With black jeans and white sneakers, Newt was good to go. She even had on some jewelry in the shape of two large hoop ear-rings. Deborah herself would go with something else, but that makes two of them. "Alright, let's go." Deborah got up, and started walking towards the door with a skip in her step - grabbing the keys off the nearby nightstand. She didn't need to change her clothes since she was wearing the same thing the whole day, all she did was grab her winter jacket and put it on. Both Newt and Deborah walked out the door towards the car. Deborah pulled out the keys to her car and pressed the unlock button, and Newt went ahead of her and slid into the backseat of the car. Deborah herself got into the driving seat, put the keys in the ignition, and turned the car on. **6:26 PM** "Jesus, the traffic here is shit..." Deborah muttered under her breath. Okay, she realized that she should have came here _hours_ ago. Now she's here, in the middle of traffic, she was jammed in between everyone. It's been more than an hour, an hour! And she's still in traffic. Usually it takes half an hour to get from Westgate to Arcadia, but there was so many cars that she was slowed to a snail's pace. Deborah was inching closer and closer to the Fair - literally. She was almost there. All she needed was a little patience. She should see how Newt is holding up. Yes, she admitted it was a little stupid, but since she was barely moving, she doubt she was going to kill somebody. She turned her head back and asked Newt, "You excited?" Christ, sitting in this car for long periods of time was hard. Sitting in any car was hard. Especially when Newt's so excited and fidgetty. She just couldn't _bare_ to sit down like this. She was lying on her stomach, and that clearly wasn't the last position she'll take. But, once she heard Debby's voice, she raised her head and turned towards her. Of course she was excited. So excited that she wanted to get the hell out of this car already! But, she was polite enough to give her older sister an answer, "Yeah... are we there yet?" She had to ask. That was good to hear, at least this trip will be rewarding. Deborah turned her head straight ahead to view the road, fortunately, it was clearing up a bit and gave Deborah enough room to speed up. While continuing her conversation with Newt, "Yeah, we're gon- _Oh shit!_" She slammed her foot on the breaks, and pounded her fist against the horn, which vibrated through the car. Since Newt wasn't secured properly, she rolled forward into the gap between the two seats. What had caused such a reaction in Deborah? A goddamn black van cut her off and damn near caused her to crash. Fortunately, her reflexes saved her from ruining what could have been an excellent night. The very second Deborah was in control, she snarled, "Now what the hell was that?!" "Ow..." Newt moaned from in between the seats. "Newt? You okay back there?" Deborah asked her, just in case these dumbasses in front of her do something else stupid, she kept her eyes ahead. "I fucking hit my head!" Newt snarled, "Why the hell did you slow down like that?!" "We almost crashed!" Deborah replied, "And why are you complaining, you can heal?" "But it hurts!" "Oh, hey, look where we are!" Deborah decided to quickly change the subject before Newt complains any further. The Christmas fair was in sight, Deborah could see the boats and vendors. Now, all she needed to do was find a parking space. Well, she'll have to settle for one of those parking complexes. They were creepy, yes, but she could be in and out before anyone suspicious gets any ideas. Deborah pulled up to a massive large parking complex, she pulled up into a small booth with a clearly tired man. Deborah had eyed the sign that said that it cost twenty dollars to park here for a few hours. A fair price. Deborah pulled a twenty out of her purse and handed it to the man, whom signaled them to go up ahead. They parked in the corner, not too far away from the entrance. Deborah turned the keys and unlocked the door, and the first thing that Newt did was kick the door open and throw her arms in the air. "Yes! I can finally move." Newt shouted through the complex, which echoed throughout the building. She stretched her arms even further and took a step forward. "Hey, Newt!" Deborah quickly caught up with her, and she pulled out strange plastic pieces out of her pocket. She presented them to Newt, and they were, appropriately, ear and nose plugs. Because of Newt's heightened senses, it might be uncomfortable for her to be in places like this. So, she bought these the other night for her just in case. "I know your senses act up sometimes, I got you these." Newt quickly grabbed them, and put them in her own pocket. "Thanks." She wasn't going to put them on now, but she'll use them when she needed to. Both of them walked out of the complex, side by side, and started wandering the Fair... They were going to head to the Golden River and watch the boats - maybe they'll be able to get on one boat that'll allow people on them. --- _Jago Andrew Javuant._ **Song:** [Zhu - Paradise Awaits](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n01U_lsATkE) --- **5:31 PM** Looks like Debby and Newt have moved on without old Jago Javuant. Their loss. Because the party's just about ready to get started. Jago was waiting in his room (that he just so happened to share with Newt until Debby leaves), watching out the window as Debs and Newt got into the car and drove off to the fair. Pttf. Didn't need them. All they'd do is slow down the J-Train, baby! The second the car had out of the space Jago knew that it was time to kick his plans into motion. His plan? Easy. Sneak out of the house and go to the fair himself. Easy fucking peasy. Fortunately for Jago, his parents haven't "Meta-proofed" the house at all, so it was easy as hell for either of the twins to sneak out. Case in point, Jago whipped his palm straight out at the window and it glowed with a dark-purple aura. And so the window got the same aura. Jago smirked and flicked his thumb, and the window lock snapped to the right. He then raised his palm upwards - and the window followed the motion and was raised upwards, and he was immediately assaulted with the cold, winter breeze. God damn he loves telekinesis! He just quietly made himself an exit. But, before he goes, he has to make sure he has everything he needs. First, his amazing outfit. Jago looked down, just to make sure he didn't fuck anything up. Because hell if he's going to sneak out [i]and[/i] look stupid. Naturally, he looked stylin' as ever. A black jean jacket unzipped to show a white and light-grey checkered flannel shirt. He had on jeans, pulled down a little bit to show the top of his blue and red checkered boxers. He had on a brown leather belt, but he was to make it so that it was fairly loose, and he wore large black combat boots that went up past his ankles, and just looked tough. Finally, he topped off his outfit with a [black Chicago Bulls Ballcap](http://www.hiphopcloset.com/images/products/detail/chicago_bulls_snap_back_basketball_cap1.JPG) and made sure that his dreadlocks weren't caught up in the hat. His head slowly turned towards the mirror and saw that reflection - and hot damn he look good. Ready for a night of superhuman debauchery. Well, all the bad bitches at the fair better prepare their ovaries, because Jago's on the way! Without a second thought, Jago pivoted back towards the window and ran towards it. He used his legs to propel his body forward into a jump as he straightened his body out. As he looked down, he saw the intimidating two story drop. That might be painful, but Jago never feared a little falling ever since he could fly like god damn Superman. A purple aura surrounded him, and as he was coming close to splatting on the concrete, he slowed down, and he did a mid-air roll and landed on his feet, killing that previous moment. Just. Pure. Swag. He slammed his foot behind him, and pivoted his upper body to turn towards the window he left open. He did the same thing as before, pointed his hand at it, and slowly brought his hand down until the window was closed. Again, no one was home, but the one thing that would have made it obvious that he snuck out would be the open window. Fortunately, all he has to do is come back before Debby, or his parents, get home.... Even though he doesn't know where Debby is, or how long it'll take to get there and back. Well, shit. Looks like this plan has more holes than he thought. But it's too late to turn back now! Like a good man, Jago will deal with the consequences later. Eh, it can't be worse than anything he's already been dealt. So Jago will take it like a man! Oh yeah, that big mission to the fair. How's he gonna pull it off? Hm. Walking would take too long. Flying there would be too draining, and too eye catching (Jago's already had been stopped too many times for _walking_ while black, imagine what the police will do if they see him _flying_ while black? Oh God lord, they'd come to kill King Kong.). Uhh.... He wondered if he should just, uh, take the bus? He has a few dollars on him, and he's sure that there'd be quite a few buses heading towards Arcadia. Why not just get on one and keep things simply? He let out a warm breath and saw it was a wisp of air, and slid his hands into his pocket and threw his head down and began a leisure little walk out of his driveway. Didn't want to draw too much attention to himself, after all. He knew of one bus that might go into Arcadia. He felt the snow crush underneath his feet with every second Ah, yeah. After a brief walk, Jago found a nice little bus stop. A glass square surround the metal bench, with metal supports that Jago had no clue what kind of metal they were. He saw a few other people there, but they weren't important. All he did was plant his behind on the bench and crossed his arms. Waiting like a boss. Eh, he wanted to pull out his phone and play a game, but that shit would have been stupid. While he was so fixed on it, some fucker would have came by and clocked him- "Hey, kid," Somebody had the audacity to call the mighty Javuant a "kid", and interrupt his monologuing! Jago turned his head towards the person, and it was some fat white guy. Old enough to be his dad - and that shit nasty. He way too _ugly_ to be Jago's dad. All this bastard needed was a neckbeard and he'd be complete. But, after the fucker got Jago's attention, he decided to continue, "Aren't you a little young to be taking the bus alone?" Of course, he had to run his mouth about shit that isn't any of his business. It was just natural for the white-man to stick his nose in other people's business. That's cool. Because it was just _natural_ for Jago to tell them to fuck off... which would have caused more problems than it would have solved. Especially if this fucker violent. Uh, he didn't care too much, so Jago just came up with a story. "I'm just heading home," He started off, "I was at my aunt's place and I need to take a bus back home to the Dead End." Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. Jago had to swallow his pride in order to say that he lived in the "Dead End" - because that's an insult like no other. But he had to come up with a convincing story - and he was certain that this no name assumed that he lived in the worst crack houses there are, so it didn't matter. "... You know this bus will take you to Arcadia?" Shit. Looks like this guy's gonna be harder to shake off than he thought. "Yeah, I'm gonna get off and take another bus straight there...." Jago would be fine with getting off halfway to Arcadia and walking the rest of the way. Whatever keeps this nosy motherfucker off his back. Fortunately, that managed to shut the bastard up as he faced forward, and Jago let his head drop, putting his lower body in full view. Thank God, a bus came. Just as this stupid schedule said. The bus rolled up on the bus stop, and Jago walked up the stairs and deposited the money. He and the driver briefly traded looks, Jago almost thought he'd tell him to get off at this hour, but he didn't say anything. Unlike round and nosy that followed Jago in. The driver probably thought he was heading to the Fair like everyone else at this hour... and that was _not_ an understatement. This bus is fucking loaded! Almost every seat was taken. Jago hated taking the bus for this god damn reason! Fortunately, there was one seat open just for him. He walked over to it, but a rather foxy lady was standing right behind him - probably walked in right after him. Well, she is good looking. "You can have the seat." Jago said, with a smile. She sat down after thanking him, and, while he had to stand up, he felt a little proud of himself. He wouldn't give up his seat to that fat fuck from before, that's for sure. In fact, Jago scanned and saw the bastard sitting in the back, taking the last seat. Oh good lord, doesn't that guy know anything other than sitting on that fat ass of his? Guess not, or else he wouldn't be fat to begin with. Jago rolled his eyes up into his head and centered his gaze forward... and he wished that there was something in here worth looking at other than a bunch of people. Well, he paid attention to the window and what's _outside_ rather than what's in. And thus, time passed like it was nothing at all. The bus stopped a couple times, but Jago didn't notice. All he was focused on was the destination, baby. **6:26 PM** But then he realized that he was at the destination. And everyone as getting off! Well, Jago started walking off with the crowd - and a familiar face glaring at him caught his attention. Aw, fuck. Looks like he forgot about that story he was supposed to have. Oh-fucking-well. The guy stared at Jago the whole way - Jago knew because he was returning the looks! Lips held tightly together in a grin, but his eyes wide open, all because Jago was holding in the laugher. "Sorry, missed my stop!" He said to the man as he jumped off the bus and ran forward towards the Fair before he decides to toss a fit. The fucking fair! It looks as gay as last year's! But the fun doesn't come from the attractions, and the boats and the other bullshit, it was dicking with the unsuspecting douchebags that inhabit this place, wanking their boats all over the place. Jago stepped into the crowded streets. People from all over were walking up and down this place, and, from an outside observer, Jago was just another body in the mob. Blending in almost perfectly - even though he's the sexiest person here. Where to start....?

` Jack Corvo and Walter Williamson ` Despite his usual sarcastic and detached demeanor, Jack always loved the Christmas Fair. Back in college he would go every year and walk along the closed-off streets glazed white with snow to watch the vendors and artists perfect their crafts. He now walked down Canal Street, one of the streets which bordered the Black Fall Canals where the yachts and schooners sailed. His own yacht was not far away, an enormous monster of a boat big enough to sleep forty people overnight. Eventually, he would go to that yacht for a nice Christmas party with his college friends and a few other bigwigs from around town, but before he did that he had an agenda to fill. In Jack’s left hand was a yellow stenographer pad, and on the first page of it a list of names: Baron Moreau, Damon Viscous, Karlie Davis, Tamba Shariati. These were the names of potential employees, and he had worked very hard to get them. He had spent the past two weeks probing the criminal underground with a stick, bribing and interrogating and beating the names of metahumans known in the criminal underground for their intellect and raw supernatural abilities, both of which he would need. He knew that he wouldn’t find Tamba here; being a patriarch of the metahuman fighting circuit, Jack knew that the boxing champion wouldn’t be caught dead at a street fair. The other ones, however, were a different story. The first one on the list was exceptionally interesting. He was a psychologist turned mercenary who was rumored to be the smartest man around. While Jack was fairly certain that Baron Moreau would not want to work for him, the possibility of meeting the world’s smartest man was too good to pass up. The other two were also rather intriguing; Damon was a hacker for hire while Karlie was, from what Jack’s intel gathered, some kind of shapeshifter, though there was very little intelligence on her. Subconsciously, Jack knew she was only on the list because someone showed him a picture of her. After walking down to the corner, Jack turned around towards a small crowd of people to see a stand of art, something not uncommon in the Christmas Fair. What was uncommon, though, was art that moved. Jack stared almost astoundedly as he realized that the drawings and paintings in the craft stand were infact all moving. Intrigued, he walked over to the stand and began to look across the walls at the pictures. A few portraits looked around and chatted towards each other, and what sounded like a motorcycle revved in one picture of an attractive biker girl. At the back of the booth was a small shelf on which canvas paintings of an angel sat stacked under a sign that read “the St.Michael Christmas Project”. Upon closer inspection, Jack realized that the angels were playing Christmas carols on their horns. He grinned and looked at the price tag; $150 a piece; no wonder they weren’t all gone. Jack looked up at the banner on the stand, which read “Inks and Things”. [i]So this must be a booth from the famous art shop on Eureka.[/i] he thought. “Hey! Buddy!” someone with a Brooklyn accent called. Jack wheeled around, surprised to see that the source of the voice was a portrait of a gruff-looking New Yorker on display in the booth. “You! With the silly hat!” It said. “Me?” Jack asked. “No, the other dummy with the bowler hat on!” the portrait snapped back. “What do you want?” Jack replied, somewhat irritably. “If you like these pictures, you could get a caricature made of yourself! Something tells me you like looking at yourself.” Jack raised an eyebrow and looked over at a stand next to the booth, where a man in his early twenties sat in front of an easel, drawing a picture of an attractive redhead. The line for the caricatures was somewhat long, mostly tourists, but no line was long when you had enough money. In less than five minutes he was sitting down on the stool in front of the easel. “Good evening.” The man behind the easel said. He was a short man of average girth with a beard reminiscent of a lumberjack’s and two of the kindest eyes Jack had ever seen. He had a slight smile on his face almost permanently, so it seemed, like he got a joke that no one else did. “So you’re the man behind the curtain, then?” Jack asked. The man chuckled as he rifled through a pencil case, trying to match up color’s with Jack’s wardrobe. Luckily, Jack was wearing mostly black, with a white collared shirt and a red J. Garcia Christmas tie. “I suppose one could say that.” he said, standing up to shake Jack’s hand “Name’s Robert Williamson. Call me Walt.” “Jack.” Jack responded as he shook the artist’s hand before sitting back down “Man, you must make a fortune off of these.” “Well if I said that I didn’t that would be a lie.” Walt said “But that’s the magic of simple computer imaging.” Walt was beginning to draw, starting with the outline. Jack smirked. “Oh please.” Jack said “You and I both know that none of that crap in that booth is computer-generated.” Walt couldn’t hide the dirty smirk. He looked as if he were a child who had been busted for taking the cookie from the cookie jar. Walter looked up from his drawing as Jack produced a large snowflake hovering above his right hand as if to say “it’s cool. Your secret’s safe with me.” “You’re an astute fellow, Jack.” Walt said, returning to his drawing “Might I ask, what’s your last name?” “Corvo.” Jack said with a slightly intimidating air. Walt raised his eyebrows. “Corvo, eh?” he said “That’s a powerful name for a meta. You’re not related to *those* Corvos, are you?” “We both know I can’t answer that question, Mr.Williamson.” Jack replied. “Walt, please.” he said “Mr.Williamson makes me feel like an old school teacher.” Jack laughed. “I know what you mean.” Jack replied. For a few moments there was silence as Walt drew. Before Jack spoke again, the outline of the body was done and the facial features were beginning to be added in. “So,” Jack asked “What else can those pictures of your’s do?” “What do you mean ‘what else do they do?’” Walt replied “They’re just pieces of art.” “They’ve gotta do something!” Jack said “What, do they turn 3D or something when commanded?” “Nope. They stay 2D.” Walt decided to change the subject “So a fan of card games I see.” Jack looked up at the brim of the hat. “Yeah.” Jack replied slyly “You could say that.” “Something tells me you’re a terrifying gambler.” Walt said. “You could say that also.” Walt smirked once more. About fifteen minutes later, the drawing was complete. It was drawn in pencil on a piece of thick cardstock-like paper about fourteen inches tall and ten wide. Jack was shocked at how similar it looked to himself. The suit was perfect, and the face, though it was reminiscent of Fr.Guido Sarducci, looked almost exactly like Jack thought he would look if he were a cartoon. Exactly everything was perfect, even the Jack of Hearts in his hat. In its right hand was a copy of a small book, and in the left, a playing card with only the back showing. Then it blinked and Jack nearly dropped it in surprise. “Well hey there beautiful!” the picture said. Jack laughed in delight and a big smile spread across Walter’s face. “Cool, isn’t it?” Walt said. “Fucking amazing!” Jack said “Thanks Walt!” “No problem, brother.” he said “You can take that the the cashier inside and ring it up. Stop by the studio one day and we can chat again. It’s been nice talking to you!” “Will do! See ya around, Walt!” Jack yelled over his shoulder as he reentered the booth and bought one of the angel paintings. He let the cashier keep the change. As Jack walked over to the yacht with his art in a bag and climbed on board to stow it away in the captain’s quarters. He would take both portraits back home and hang them up, but he was on the wrong side of Black Fall for that and by the time he got home and back it would be too late to do anything else. Five minutes later, Jack went off towards a nearby food vendor, waiting in line for a caramel apple which he gnawed at as he continued to walk around the fair, his eyes scanning the crowd for any of his targets. --- ` Eva Chilver ` Eva was also at the fair, in a different section and at a booth where there were scarves, hats, gloves, and belts being sold. Eva rifled through several boxes of scarfs, occasionally grabbing one that looked right and examining it closely until it was wrong again. Shopping for others was tough in itself, but of all people in the world, Selena Chilver was the hardest to buy clothes for. Selena would much rather wrap herself in leather and wolf skin than feel the warmth of a nice cotton blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Eva would commonly go shopping for Selena to try and “give her style” but it rarely worked. This time, however, Eva was being very, very patient. She came across a nice thin scarf with a leopard print, something which would compliment Selena’s current...wardrobe...well. Eva felt all giddy inside as she grabbed the scarf and ran over to Selena, who was standing nearby. She threw the scarf about her neck and stepped back to observe. “Perfect.” Eva said “You look fantastic! Plus, it's not real so we don't have to argue over it! What do you think, sis?”

### Selena Chilver Selena's hands sidled around the rifle grip, raising it to her shoulder with practiced ease and rhythmic order. She squeezed off a round and smashed a bottle off the table, pumping another round into the air rifle. Selena didn't really give a shit about the oversized teddy bear that was the grand prize, it was more about the challenge itself-this was, in a strange way, hunting. Predator and prey. Challenge and challenger. Selena had a competitive streak two miles wide, and it tended to keep her occupied most of the time. With a handful of rumpled up dollar bills (in lieu of a purse, Selena had a bill fold) on the counter, Selena took a deep breath and brought the rifle back up again. No, a deep breath. Deeper. Breathing from inside herself, not the outside air-outside air which smelt of cheap butter popcorn and a hundred thousand congregated, sweating bodies, all speaking in a thousand different pitches and tones, the far off ding-a-ling-ling of circus vendors, the cold- The air rifle popped and the last two bottles smashed off. Selena lowered the rifle and tucked it back into the slot, noting the cable that kept you from running off with it. Oh, yeah, because losing a ten dollar air rifle was going to destroy that month's profits. The clerk looked a tad bit irritated-perhaps he interpreted beating the game as beating himself, the same way a teacher might be annoyed when a student gets a hundred on a test because, hey, deep down, you sorta want those bastards to fail. Selena grinned wide and tipped her hat-well, she would've if she'd had one, instead she just tugged at the edge of her boggin. Rifles weren't Selena's strongest suit-that honor would fall on the longbow-but she still was a pretty decent shot. Selena took a few seconds to let her blood cool-almost inadvertently, she'd started to tap into the well of metahuman strength within her. She'd needed only a sliver to steady her arms and blast the bottles into kingdom come-something she probably could've managed without-but such was the nature of Selena's gift. Not always conscious. It acted before she could catch up to it-another chase, another hunt. "I'll take the teddy be-" Selena sensed Eva approaching, which was something of an anomaly. Without her enhanced senses, she'd have trouble picking up on somebody through the swarming mass of sound and scent that was the Black Fall Christmas Festival, but she and Eva were twins. In tune, perhaps. "Oh, I do?" Selena paused, lifting it up and examining it. Leopard print. That was kinda cool. Selena liked furs, especially 'cause they pissed off hippies. "I like it!" She decided, turning and giving her sister a grin. She didn't really get what else to say about clothes. I mean, they were clothes. Normally she just went for whatever worked"I, ah, got you this," she grabbed the teddy bear and handed it to Eva-Selena was planning on giving it to the first kid who walked by, but hey, she'd feel kinda lame getting something from her sister and not returning the favor. Honor, pride. Selena's big on 'em. "So, debt's settled now...where to?" Selena rolled her shoulders a bit, unaccustomed to the scarf. Hm. It was pretty thin, so probably wouldn't do a whole lot to keep her warm but...ya know. Eva was trying to be nice and all. She did legitimately like the scarf, but Eva was always doing things like buying her clothes and whatnot and she didn't really know what to make of it. All seemed a bit trivial to her, really. _How many boyfriends have you had in comparison to her, hm?_ Selena frowned. Shut up. Doesn't mean anything. "Where to, where to," Selena muttered, scanning the crowd. What else was there to do? The Christmas Tree and the lights and stuff were cool and all but...eh. Maybe food?

### **Harmon Rottlage & Leonard Boggs** --- And you want to know What's that god-awful sound Something's dragging on the ground The machine is bre̸ak̷i̴ng̸ ͟d̀ow͢n̴ --- The Fair. Ever since... well, earlier today, Harmon was dreading the thought of this event. So many meta-humans. So many NEST agents. All in one place. Every one of them a spark that could set off a chain reaction and wreak havoc. Most of them probably knew that but disregarded its importance. These powers, this meta-energy... it brings out the worst in people sometimes. Turns them into terrible, deplorable creatures. Harmon never liked NEST but he always remembered what they were around for. To keep things like... like this... under control. But be that as it may, he wasn't about to turn himself in to Saint Frank and face the overly-drastic consequences the agent would no doubt place upon him. It was best for him and Lenny to stay in disguise, keep their heads down, and hope nothing happens. And speaking of disguises, Harmon was very pleased with the new gloves and camouflage boonie Lenny had bought for him at a dollar store, thankfully right before it had shut down for the fair. The hat was a little large for Harmon's head, but that would only be the case without the shards. It fit perfectly over them, and the wide brim concealed his lack of eyes well enough. The two were walking towards a crowd, now. Lenny led the duo as Harmon kept his head hunched over and arms overlapped. These clothese... they weren't the same as the old blanket he used. But, they seemed to work a lot better in terms of warding off the cold. He felt... rather comfortable, really. But that inkling fear of the NEST troops stationed at every corner... there was no ward against that. "Hey, c'mon." Lenny said in a hush voice, turning his head and motioning for Harmon to speed up towards him. "Don't fall behind, you and me have to stay together." Harmon quickly picked up the pace and matched Lenny's stride beside him. As they entered into the thick of the crowd, Lenny continued, "Keep your cool Harmon, just walk with me and... try to look low-key. Can you do that, buddy?" Harmon nodded his head, the brim of the boonie hat flapping a bit. Combined with the scarf, it was hard for anyone to make out his face, or lack thereof, even from close up. People were brushing past him and Lenny and just... going about their business, enjoying the Fair. Harmon could see the bright lights and bustling stands, and the boats on the waterway. They didn't seem to fill him with the same sense of awe and wonder that other folks were experiencing, though. The two emerged from the other side of the crowd, still on the sidewalk. Up ahead of them was an intersection, to the right of which the Fair begun, and the to the left, it ended. There were two NEST troopers standing on opposite ends of the intersection's corners. "Alright." Lenny said, placing his hand on Harmon's back. "Let's just turn right and stay in the crowd. Be cool." The two made their way forward, brushing past a few more people, easing up to the wall of the corner building and doing their best to not draw any attention from the agents. They were feet away from the corner now. Harmon was shaking a bit as he slowly sidled around the corner, behind the back of the agent standing at the corner. The moment he was clear, Lenny was already behind him, strolling as nonchalantly as possible. Ahead of them, down the bustling road, stood row upon row of game stands and prize booths. Lights were flashing everywhere from on high, especially prominent on the boats and luxury cruisers sitting in the waterwat further down. The sense of wonder and amusement was still very alien to Harmon. This place horrified him. "C'mon." Lenny said, patting Harmon's back. "Let's just find somewhere that doesn't look too heavily guarded and hang out for a bit." "But..." Harmon said in a whisper, "Fair... w-when it, when it ends?" "We'll think of something." Lenny responded, "For right now let's just worry about not getting caught." Harmon nodded, and the two resumed their pace, blending into the crowd, evading the eyes and ears of the agents around them. And in that moment, Harmon was slowly crumbling on the inside, being in the thick of all those potential sparks, just waiting to ignite... And burn everything.

**_Achille, Sugar, & Shannon_** As yet another horn blared behind him Achille was reminded for possibly the hundredth time that week of the very reason he never drove around Black Fall during the winter season unless he absolutely had to. Despite the fact that traffic had compacted itself into a bumper-to-bumper conga line in front of his own vehicle, allowing Achille no room to move up or around the jam that was moving slower than paint dried, the driver directly behind him seemed to have it in his head that Achille was behind the delay in some way. Were he a lesser man he might have gotten out of the sedan to have a word with the angry driver in question. That would have required exiting the warm interior of the luxury vehicle and stepping out into the frigid air outside however so there was no way in hell that was happening. Instead, as he had done every time the driver had angrily slammed on his horn like it had hit him first, Achille simply reached over to the dashboard and turned up the radio some more, the sound of soft club jazz echoing inside the car and shaking off a few of the snowflakes that had found a tentative foothold on the smooth surface of the windshield. In truth Achille and his two passengers didn't need to go much farther down the road to reach their destination, a garage park with a single guard at the entrance waving off any vehicles that tried to pull in for a spot. The guard in question was a broad, tall Afrikaner who Achille knew through his sister, Eo. The guard, Wikus by name, was two years younger than Achille and had been in a relationship with Eo Sinagra for the better part of six years. As the trio made a final desperate push through the throng of traffic, another horn blast chasing them as they sped towards the car park, Wikus took not of them. His irritated frown turned into a pleasant smile when he recognized the owner of the vehicle, waving Achille through and indicating through some rather intricate hand gestures that the two of them would have to talk when he was on break. "Stay calm, Blathnat,." Shannon started off, ruffing her hands through Sugar's hair. Her little sister... Jesus, she was so excited a little while ago, now she's less than thrilled upon hearing that she'll have to get into a car. It took a little convincing, but it was more of getting to the destination that made Sugar continue into the car (That, and Shannon using Sugar's "princess" mentality to cox her in). Now, young Blathnat had her head rested on Shannon's lap the whole trip, with Shannon's hand on the side of her head, ruffing gently through her hair. Quietly assuring her. And not one word came out of Sugar's mouth, strangely. Shannon herself hasn't been able to see the... psychological... effects of the crash like this s - except for Blathnat's sudden "Imaginary Friend" appearing and her fear of cars.... Not that it was something she enjoyed seeing.... But, Shannon kept her eye on Achille... she didn't trust him, even though Sugar did. Well, he better not be planning anything shifty, since leather is one of the things that Shannon's able to control. It'd be a shame if the interior of this car got ruined. However, one of the things that Shannon does trust is Sugar, and her power specifically. Even when distracted, it seems that Sugar's telepathy works just fine... almost as if it's autonomous. In any case, if necessary, Shannon was sure that she could wrestle control of the car from Achille. It took another few minutes of cruising before Achille found a spot for the sedan, sliding it in between a pair of massive SUVs that looked like they wanted to be military vehicles when they grew up. He kept the keys in the ignition as he put the vehicle into park and turned to his passengers, grinning as per usual. He had hardly stopped doing so during the previous five or so hours so he saw little reason to do so now. "Well that was certainly an exciting drive. Sorry you two had to put up with the Grinch behind us. Guess we were keeping him from ruining someone else's Christmas huh?" He winked at Sugar, hoping it would help ease her nerves a bit. She had seemed less than thrilled at the whole car drive to begin with so he couldn't really say she'd look back fondly at the memory of being honked at for twenty minutes by some fat forty something behind the wheel of a Nacho-Town delivery truck. "Anywhere you two need to head in particular for this whole shindig? I don't need to deliver the good to the crew for another half hour so I've got time to kill if you wanna just check out some of the stands or floats before they launch." Thankfully, the car-ride came to an end, and Shannon quickly opened the door. Sugar was relieved to know that the car ride of fear was over. She raised her head as soon as the door was open, taking up an upright position, Sugar put her feet on the ground and slid her way across the leather seats. Fast actually. Her feet were on the familiar concrete awfully fast. Sugar immediately let out a sigh, and her head went from the left to the right. Blue eyes scanning her surroundings. The fair! She was wondering if she'd get here! That fast fear was quickly replaced with the childlike joy she's used to. And it showed in the smile that etched across her lips. Far as the eye could see, there were the familiar stands that made up the fair. She wants cotton candy! And candy canes! And caramel apples! And everything! But is it worth it if she isn't with her father and mother? Achille's question went over her head as the war raged on inside of Sugar. Whether she should be happy she's here, or sad they're not here. On the other hand, Shannon was much more calm while carrying herself through the fair. She merely walked up besides Sugar and gave the place the same run down. Before she had crossed her arms, she adjusted her glasses, and gave everything the same neutral glare as always. The same Fair she's been going to since, what? The time she was ten and sent to live with Debby? Which had to be over a decade ago... Honestly nothing new. The same old, same old. Vendors, creeps, annoying people, and the people who choose to prey on them. Shannon shrugged and let out some air. Ultimately, she didn't care for this place, since she's just as likely to get groped than have some semblance of "fun". Whatever. Achille had to ask them if they needed to be anywhere. Well Shannon might as well engage in the casual dialogue at least. Hm. There was meeting Debby, but she was going to sort that out real fast. "... Not at the moment." Shannon answered, pulled one arms away and putting it on her chin, two fingers on her jawline. "I guess we can just enjoy the fair for now, I guess." She quickly snatched that hand away as she shrugged. Her stomach started growling, and it made her realize the downside to skipping lunch quite fast. "Perhaps we can get something to eat, uh...." She doubted that he was going to pay, unless he was that big of a gentleman. After all, this whole trip was him "repaying" the Balores for helping him (Even though they haven't lost anything). The mere mention of food brought a gleam to Achille's grin that outshone the brightest Christmas tree. If there was one thing he could provide and enjoy in spades other than laughter and money, it was food. He had also forgotten to eat after the little performance he and the off duty crew at the Big Top had put on for Sugar so his energy levels were demanding a bit of recharging anyway. "Food 's good with me. What are you thinking? Pizza? Sausages? Apple fritters? Oh, how about those weird doughnutty battery things with the powdered sugar? "Tunnel Cakes" or whatever they're called. I've heard they're pretty great but I've never had them." He brushed a few snowflakes out of his hair, the thick black locks falling back into their usual place once the white crystals had been freed. "Or better yet, why don't we just go around the stalls and eat a bit of everything? My treat of course. I feel I owe you after putting you two through that car ride. The kid especially." He had meant to inquire about Sugar's leg in the car but after seeing the state she was in after the first few minutes he had wisely kept his questions to himself. Achille didn't like to jump to conclusions but if he had to guess he'd say that her missing limb and her attitude towards the car ride were connected. Even if that wasn't true however, he was going to make sure he made up for the honking driver and all the little stops and starts that plagued their ride to the car park. As the group passed by a vendor and a couple of rowdy teenagers Achille spied something across the street that stood out to him. With little more than a quick "Wait here!" he bolted through the crowd, surprisingly agile and balanced for someone of his size. A minute later he reappeared out of the throng, holding a trio of sticks above his head, each with a thick napkin of some sort wrapped around it. As Achille drew closer however it became clear that the sticks were in fact skewers, a steaming kebab impaled along the length of each. The meat on the spits were thick, slightly charred and extra juicy, still hot from the grill where they had only recently been taken from. The scent of well cooked meat washed over the others as Achille halted in front of them again, two of the kebabs extended outward in offering. "I've always wanted to try these." he said, an almost childlike glee manifesting itself on his face as he marveled at the grilled delight he had just acquired. "Here, take them." Naturally, Shannon was incorrect yet again (Snap!). Looks like Achille was willing to get them food. Well, not that she could complain - more money in her pockets, after all - but she was still mighty suspicious of him. As he walked up with the kebabs, Shannon bumped Sugar rather hard with the hand that was closest to her. When Sugar looked up with those blue eyes of hers, Shannon was quick to tell her what she wanted, "Can you get "Sir Reginald" to, uh, tell me what he's thinking?" Shannon quickly asked of her sister... She didn't know the mechanics behind her power, but from what Sugar (And Debby, who can sense it's presence) tells her, it has something to do with that "Imaginary Friend". Oooooh. Read the man's thoughts again? Sugar felt a little underwhelmed by that request, since Sir Reginald had alerted her ages ago that Achille meant no harm, and was more or less the man he appeared to be. But Shannon asked her, Sugar had no choice but to oblige! Sugar looked up at Sir Reginald, who was invisible, high above Sugar (Maybe up there to have a good vantage point, but Sugar didn't display the most awareness herself, so she just figured that he was up there to be up there). Sugar didn't require his help, so he merely taken to observing for now. She merely sent the request to him, and he followed through with it. Piercing through the man's mind, into his inner-psyche, and transmitting it right into Sugar's brain. Good. Something about kebabs. Time to report back to Shannon with this new development! "Psst," Sugar whispered, "He wants to give us Kebabs..." Shannon's palm immediately slapped against her face, covering her eyes. "... Forget I ever asked." Sugar will some day make an incredible detective. She just knew it. Just deal with Achille, that's all she had to do, really. She had to force herself to smile. Though, it looked more like she was crazy. As the smile was too wide, cheeks too rounded, and it just looked like she was putting "too much" energy into it. Well, she didn't know how much energy was too much since the only energy she put into these situations were strictly none. "Why thank you..." She said, leaning in forward to grab onto the kebab, and looking him dead in the eyes through her glasses. Hm. Shannon never ate such foods often, but it couldn't be too awful. Unless it was actually rat meat he was offering them.... Food! Sugar didn't hesitate to snatch the kebab from Achille's hand and take a bite... mmmm... not bad. Truly worthy of Princess Sugar! Achille here... in her eyes, he was a knight. Big, strong, and noble. Just like all knights should be! Even went out on a dangerous journey to get her food. Simply knightly. However, while this was good, she was in the mood for something else. Some cotton candy, actually. She found it simply delectable, almost like all other sugared treats. There was a reason why she was called Sugar. She was simply sweet as Sugar. Where was some, actually? Sugar knew how to solve this, call upon Sir Reginald! While Achille was a knight, Sir Reginald will always be her one true knight. She looked up at him again, and mentally sent the command, "Find me some cotton candy, please." And he floated off in some random direction. In relation to Sugar, he was going behind her. He didn't escape her eyes, not even for a second... she was almost ready to follow him.... The kebab was almost at it's end, the skewer was almost out. Okay, Shannon liked this more than she thought that she would, actually. It was so krispy, and the meats were so juuuuicy.... Of course, that had to come to a close. Shannon didn't realize it until it was too late, but someone had slammed into her shoulder-arm areas at high speed. All she felt was the collision between the two (And the immediately felt the pain shoot up her arm) and her getting knocked over. "Hey!" She loudly shouted as she threw her arms up to brace herself, but all she did was let her shoulders take the brunt of the fall (Probably brusing them for later). Her glasses had fallen off her face, and thankfully, as a reflex action using her power, had caught them... well, in a way. She merely slowed down their descent so they wouldn't shatter on impact. Her control over plastics wasn't nearly as good as her ability to control fabrics, but it did help her. Obviously, the first thing Shannon did was grab her glasses and push them back up her nose. Otherwise, she can't see worth shit. She stood straight up, and turned towards the person who had the audacity to crash into her. She gave him the up down... a tall, lanky, teen, had to be at least eighteen, with short blond hair, and wearing a plain tan padded winter-coat with jeans (Like everyone in this city wears). She was about to raise hell when she noticed something was off. She had whipped around. Where the hell is Sugar? Oh no. Shannon's head turned around to see every corner of her field of vision, but where ever she looked, all she saw were more people, or vendors. No Blathnat. "Wait, where's Blathnat?!" Shannon had asked, her eyes were wide. "Where the hell did she..." She asked herself again, before choosing to outright shout, "Sugar!"

`Jack Corvo` Upon leaving the yacht, Jack looked around and scanned the crowds for the people on his list. He had sat the portraits from Walt in the master bedroom to be picked up later. He began to walk through the crowds to find his targets once more when a familiar rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he was still human and still needed to eat no matter how much he didn’t want to be. He looked around and found a familiar funnel cake stand which he remembered from his college days. He ordered a funnel cake, got the waitress’ number (though she wasn’t nearly as pretty some of the other girls whose numbers he had already landed) and walked off a few minutes later, trying his best not to get the powdered sugar from the cake on his new wool peacoat. He leaned up against a craft booth near Walt’s art stand, eating about a quarter of the funnel cake until he got bored with standing still and began to walk around, listening to the Christmas music playing from the speakers on the streetlights. After the funnel cake was about half-finished, Jack found himself sitting on a bench near a streetlight at an intersection. The song “Silver Bells” was playing over the speakers, and he hummed along with it as he ate away at the funnel cake. “Sugar!” someone nearby yelled. Jack looked up and saw Shannon Balore standing in the middle of the intersection, looking around frantically. Back in college, Jack and Shannon had been good friends. They had dorms across the hall from each other and hung out somewhat frequently. At one point, Jack had a crush on her, and still he found her somewhat attractive, but not in a “one and done midnight stand” sort of way, but in a more sensual, loving way. Of course, he eventually found out that she was lesbian (by accident, actually) and since then tried to curb his enthusiasm when near her. Nowadays, Shannon acted as his tailor, using her powers to make him suits and such. Jack had tried to recruit her to his “business”, knowing that she was in some economic trouble, but she wanted no part of that. They hadn’t talked since. Jack stood and walked through the crowd where she was standing. “Hey whassup Silkworm?” Jack said in a silly, flirtatious manner before he picked up on her distress “Is everything alright?” --- `Eva Chilver` “Aw! Thank you!” Eva said, taking the bear from her sister’s hands and giving it a feminine hug. Eva picked up suddenly that Selena was somewhat unnerved. Neither of them were exactly the most social people, and though Eva was generally better with people then her sister, she also felt somewhat claustrophobic as people bustled by like bees in a hive. She looked around for things to do and caught sight of a nearby food truck with a few picnic tables adjacent to it. She *was* hungry, after all, and eating would probably help Selena to calm down. “Why don’t we go get some food?” Eva asked, grabbing Selena by the wrist and gesturing for her to follow. As Eva began to turn, a man with a cigarette walked by and inadvertently blew tobacco smoke in her face. Immediately Eva’s face felt as if it had been burned, and she began to cough as the carcinogenic smoke filled her lungs. As she gasped for air, a nearby rat, who was nibbling at the remains of a hot dog laying in the street, looked up and squeaked loudly. The Earth-Mother was in danger! He began to crawl through the crowd, darting around feet expertly until he got to the man with the cigarette. The rat’s mind filled with anger as Eva choked and it dove at the man, biting him on the heel with full force. He cried out at the rat’s teeth tore into his skin and moved to step on it just as a seagull swooped down and slashed at his face. He tripped and fell onto his back at Selena’s feet, groaning as the rat scurried away and the gull flew off with the cigarette clasped securely in its beak.

### Carmen "Lily" Santo and Walt Williamson --- Hours later, yeah, and she still hasn't found herself a cheap motel. She needed to get her ass in gear, but she couldn't miss the fair, especially when that strange woman said she'd be here (And Lily has questions to ask her). Well, it didn't take a genius to tell that this place was a disaster waiting to happen. So many Metas... so many people... it went without saying that, whatever the hell happens here, Lily wasn't going to be apart of it. Just find that loco woman, and move along before whatever the hell happens, goes down. But maybe enjoying the Fair a little wouldn't hurt anybody. The urge to get some food drove her to a vendor stand. Painting white and red, with bright glowing signs that pierced the darkness that said "HOT DOGS". That had a bench or two in front of it, sandwiching the line from the front counter. It was a good thing that she got some money on her. She got behind everyone else in the line, a family of four (All white, Lily noted their striking blonde hair), in front of them was an older African-American man - she figured that he was there alone, or going to meet someone. No matter what these people's stories were, they weren't apart of her story. Once it was her turn to order a hotdog, she walked up, rather nervously. "Hey ma'am, can I take your order?" The young, chippy, redhead apparently working the stand asked her. Heh, "ma'am". That's what they usually call women, but the funny thing is that Lily never felt so much like a teenager than she does right now. "Uh, yeah." Lily shuffled her feet to adjust into firm stance. Her gloved hand quickly went behind her head as she wondered what to order. Eh, something simple. "Just a regular hotdog please." The man nodded and answered, "That'll be three dollars." The problem with carrying around hundreds of dollars on you is that you'll be an easy target for pick-pockets if you let them know. Another problem is that it's all in twenties! Lily reached into her pocket, and dug hard for the money - twisting her fingers around to make sure that she doesn't reveal how much money she had. She produced a twenty and handed it to the man, he took it, and went into the back. A few minutes later, he came back with her hotdog. Lily was never too big on hotdogs, but she hate quite a lot back then when she went to pool parties (and parties with families) where they were served on a grill. So it was something she was used to. Lily grabbed the hotdog and walked around the stand to the side. Where she leaned up against it, and kicked her legs out. She was going to eat it back here because hell if she was going to walk around with it and end up dropping it. Lily took one bite out of it, then realized that the man who was first in line had approached her. Uh, what to do? Does he want something? "Hey." Was all she could say as she took another bite, she kept her eyes on him at all times. The man leaned up against the wall next to Lily. He had a hotdog of his own. "Mind if I join you?" _I swear to God, if you're looking for a date...._ Lily hissed in the back of her head as the man "joined her". Now she could get a good look at him. He was a tall, African-American man, with a shaved head that left a few centimeters worth of hair on top. He wore a black leather jacket, and blue jean pants, with a polo-shirt under it. Okay, maybe a little stylish, but on someone a few decades younger. This man was old enough to be her damn father (I.E in his mid-to-late forties). It showed in the creases and wrinkles in his face. "Uh, sure." While she did have the feeling this man was up to something, she was simply going to go along with it and leave if things got a little hectic. No reason to be paranoid (Especially when this man could give her a place to sleep, a better choice than a cheap ass motel). Maybe she was being a little bit too passive in looking for Megan. Like, was Lily _honestly_ expecting to find Megan, who is at best one person in a mob, by wandering aimlessly around? "Hey," She was quick to say to the man - because if he's here, she might as well ask him. "Have you seen a tall woman with red hair, and glasses?" She asked. "Uh... not that I can recall." Crap, there goes that plan. "But I a lot of people are heading towards the river front, ya' might find her that way." Well, that's Lily's only option, really. She took her last bite of the hotdog, clenching her jaws down on it and swallowing the last chunk of it. "Thank you." She said, as she threw the cardboard away in the trash can that was right next to her, and left the man behind as she stepped into the crowded streets yet again. Alright where's the riverfront... stopping her stride, Lily quickly realized that she should have asked the man which direction is the river, anyway. Lily turned her head behind her... looks like that man is long gone. She kept heading towards the riverfront, but then she passed another Meta-human. She knew he was a meta because of the nagging feeling in the back of her head that had told her where they were. She had no choice but to look at them. A man, white, and obviously an artist going off of his art booth he had here. He was drawing pictures of people. Maybe when she was younger, she would have loved one of these pictures, but honestly, it didn't matter to her. Lily kept moving when she heard a voice calling out to her from the art stand. "Hey you, with the piercings." it said. She looked over he shoulder and saw that the source of the voice was a anime-type drawing of a tough-looking girl on a blue motorcycle. She was idling her bike in a blank space on a sign that said "Electronic Caricatures". An arrow on the sign pointed to the line in front of the meta artist. What the hell? Lily immediately stopped and turned towards the stand. Okay, she was wondering who just called out to her. Was it that Meta-human? No, it can't be. It was a girl saying something to her. Of course, before she moved on, she looked at the stand. Electronic Caricatures? Sounds expensive, actually. And stupidly impractical since Mr. Artist right here would have to haul around a load of electronics. She was a bit curious as to who called out to her, honestly. Maybe it might be that someone she's looking for... and either way, if it isn't, she can ask if this guy has seen her. Lily walked over to Electronic Caricatures with a light step. "Hey," She said to Walr to get his attention, "Did you say something to me...?" Walt looked up from drawing a rather overweight Southern woman who reeked of tourist as the drawing began to open her mouth again. "It was me." she said "I called you over hun. You got a problem with that?" "Be nice, Zoom." Walt said "She means you no harm. I'm sorry, miss, but if you wish to get your picture drawn you must wait in line." Zoom gestured to the line of about four people stretching in front of where walt was drawing. Walt looked back down to the picture and in less than twenty seconds was finished. Did those days of taking drugs finally catch up to Lily? Because that was rather... strange. A sentient drawing. A sentient drawing was talking to her. That was impossible, unless it was the work of a Meta-human. It took a little bit of concentration, but Lily picked up the faintest amount of Meta-human energy on the drawing. Detecting that it was the work of a superhuman. Obviously, Lily choose to read into the man's power... She focued on him, and tuned into the energy that surges within him, and forced her psyche into. Scanning the very essence of it. He had... he had an artist power. The ability to bring art to "life", give them personalities. Give them thoughts.. a very interesting power, actually. Of course, Lily didn't know how to respond to a painting talking to her. She scratched the back of her neck. "Uh, no, but..." She whimpered, before turning to Walt. Well, she didn't see Megan anywhere around here, so why didn't she just probe for a little more information? But, of course, he was distracted. He probably thought she wanted a painting. She didn't know if disturbing him would have been the right thing to do. For starters, it would have been rude, and on the other hand, drawing takes focus. So, Lily simply got in line, again. Hopefully, Walt will know something. The Black Fall effect draws Metas to one another. Megan is a Meta too. So there's a chance that Walt could know who Megan is, or if he has seen her.

### **Harmon Rottlage, Leonard Boggs, & Blathnat "Sugar" Balore** --- Dissipate in isolation Irretrievable salvation The only thing The only thing you need --- Darts. Darts. Lenny was throwing darts. At balloons. If the plan was to look inconspicuous, they were doing a decent job. At least, Lenny was. Harmon was simply cradling himself, crouched beside the front of the game booth. The brim of his hat was lowered so no one could see his face. His camera was watching the crowds pass by left and right. Before Lenny reared his hand to toss his third and last dart, he turned and lowered his head, looking at Harmon. "H-... Buddy." He said, realizing that using any real names might be a bad idea while they were in a crowd. "Why don't you stand up and take the last dart instead of just sitting down there? C'mon, it'll be fun." Harmon slowly stood up, positioning himself in front of Lenny, who held the dart in front of Harmon's pocket which the camera was tucked inside. Harmon slowly raised his hand and took the dart, turning and positioning himself directly towards the array of balloons, some of which were already popped. He slowly raised the dart in a... rather awkward manner, and then chucked it towards the balloons in a haphazard manner. The dart spun through the air erratically before slamming against the plywood wall behind the array of balloons. The dart fell on the ground below with no flare at all accompanying it. "That's three." Said the man running the booth, "Another round?" "Nah, we're good. Thanks." Lenny responded, patting Harmon's shoulder and guiding him away from the booth. Seemed like he wanted to hold on to at least some of whatever money he had with him. The two passed through the crowd, eyeing the multitude of games and food stands that were available for the public to partake in. Some of the boats were even hosting a few gatherings, people being up on the deck and dancing, or just conversing. Harmon's vision through his camera started to falter some as the crowd grew thicker and thicker. And when the two emerged from the crowd, everything that had filled Harmon with the slightest or even the most harmful sense of unease dissipated. Not out of relief, no, but in the wake of a much, much greater, and all too familiar fear. There, standing over by a hot dog vendor's cart, holding up a NEST PDA to show someone a picture, was _him_. _Frank._ Harmon's lips quivered and slowly parted agape as he took a few steps back. Lenny turned towards him, seemingly unaware of Frank's presence, and said, "You okay?" Harmon didn't respond, he simply turned and began quickly pacing backwards through the crowd. Lenny immediately chased after him, pushing through the crowd. Harmon, however, seemed to have made it through the other side much quicker, before a sudden surge of people moving through that one particular area. Lenny was shoved back as he tried to move through the center of the crowd, desperately trying to keep an eye on Harmon's boonie hat to mark him down. But the crowd was clouding his vision. And he couldn't call out his name, that would set off red flags everywhere for anyone who saw the news cast earlier. "Hey!" Lenny called out, "Excuse me! Excu- move!" His voice was raised some, and he finally started to push his way through the crowd. Finally, he made it through to the opposite end. He darted his head left and right, but... There was no sign of Harmon anywhere. "Shit..." Lenny muttered. He didn't waste any time thinking the situation over. He immediately picked a direction and began searching for his friend. God knew a socially inept wallflower like Harmon wouldn't be able to handle this crowd well enough. He had to find him before Frank did. Or anyone who wanted Frank's reward. And fast. ... ... ... Hm, Sir Reginald seemed to know where he was going. Sugar had been following him away from Shannon and Achille, on her quest for cotton candy! She knew that Shannon would be fine without the Princess. Because in Sugar's eyes, Sir Reginald could lead her back to Shannon just like he had lead her away. That said, she waded through the crowds... they seemed to be ignoring the fact that an eight year old girl was wandering around the Fair Grounds all by herself. Either they had found a reason for it in their own minds, or were truly apathetic. It didn't matter to Sugar long as they didn't impede her "quest" for cotton candy- "_Hidehidehidehide-_" The thoughts had forcibly intruded themselves into Sugar's head, thanks to her psychic guardian yet again. She stopped in her tracks, and looked around. Who's hiding? And from what? Is someone in danger? Suddenly, the child had stopped looking for cotton candy, and instead her sense of morality had taken over. Someone needed help, and since Black Fall was her kingdom, she was going to keep it safe. Sugar looked up at Sir Reginald, and nodded her head. Sending the command to him, "Where is he?" "_Nonononono-_" In an instant, Sir Reginald had urged Sugar in the direction of Harmon, and immediately, she set her sights on him, and simply wouldn't let him escape. Not when he's in danger. He was a strange dressed man, he dressed like he was hiding himself! She didn't consider why anyone would hide themselves in her kingdom, but if he was really in danger... now that filled her with even more determination. With the guiding hand of Sir Reginald, she quickly homed in on Harmon. "Hey, mister!" Sugar called for him. "Do you need help?" Harmon turned his head at the sound of the young girl calling to him. Help. Help, from, from who? Who else would be helping him but Lenny? It was a confusing notion and he couldn't wrap his head around it, surrounded by the chaos and commotion of those around him. But the impending fear of Frank closing in on him overshadowed his sense of worry. And that fear was quickly superseceded by a brand new one. Standing over the girl. Towering above the crowd. Nothing but a thin, shimmering outline overlapping the faintest signal of an immensely powerful force of mental energy. Frank was nothing compared to this... thing. Harmon immediately took action, gasping some as he ducked underneath the white curtain surrounding the game booth next to him. An act of desperation in the wake of this new, horrifying figure standing over a small child. "Wait!" Sugar said to Harmon, she said as a sharp whisper, she was trying to keep her voice down just in case whoever this poor thing is hiding from is nearby. The man had hidden behind a curtain, Sugar was about to walk underneath it too, but Sir Reginald had stopped her... merely by exerting his telepathic will on her yet again. He told her that Harmon was frightened, frightened by her guardian. Whom Harmon could vaguly comprehend - much like all other Cerebral-type metahumans. Wait, why is that? Sir Reginald is the nicest, most noble Knight in all the lands. He isn't nothing to fear. Neither is Sugar. She was quick to say, "Wait, he's-" but she stopped when Sir Reginald had warned her of a man approaching her, and she stopped. Sugar turned around and looked up at the man.... "Hey, kid." The bald man said. He was dressed in a NEST trooper's uniform. He looked down at her with squinted eyes and asked, "You wandering around without your parents?" A NEST agent? Those men are... scary. They walk around in armor that look like knights, and they carry around guns (Guns!). Daddy told her that those things are dangerous. Worst of all, they keep calling her a "Meta-human", and saying she has "Telekinesis" and "Telepathy". She... didn't know what those things are. She's a Princess, 100% human. But, what did worry her was that this NEST agent didn't look very nice. She took a step back away from him, and adjusted her glasses. "Hi," She addressed him, waving her hand. "I'm just... looking for some cotton candy." Sugar quickly telepathically asked Sir Reginald what the man here wanted.... _Wonder if she's seen that slippery fucker anywhere._ Slippery fucker? Those are baaaad words. Sugar briefly wondered why Sir Reginald would tell her _this_. But all that did was enforce that she didn't like the looks of this man. "That doesn't answer my question, though." The man said, "Where are your parents?" Her parents? She... came here with her sister. Far as Sugar could tell, her mother was still home, drinking that bad smelling stuff, and Dad was... still in the hospital. "I... came here with my sister and a friend. I left them to get some cotton candy, then I'll go right back, okay?" Sugar nodded her head, hoping that this scary man would leave her alone. The man nodded. He took out a NEST PDA from one of his buttoned pockets and flipped through it a bit. He then crouched down so he was at Sugar's eye-level and held the device up to her, showing her the same database profile image of Harmon Rottlage, as it was seen on the news cast earlier today. "Think you can help me with something?" He said, "I'm looking for this meta-human. Seen him anywhere?" Meta-human, there's that phrase again. It still confused, but the problem here was that Sugar hasn't seen this strange looking creature... tall, white skin, no eyes or facial features, only a mouth. Sugar would have called him a monster... but maybe he's just misunderstood, and needs a friend. Regardless, she didn't know who is the person this man is after - and even if she did, she wouldn't tell him. Sugar merely shook her head from right to left. "Nope, mister." The man nodded. He gave Sugar a bit of glare before he said, "What's your name, kid?" "Sugar." Sugar told Frank, frankly (Pun intended). Of course, she shared her alias, since she would never tell anyone what her embarassing real name is. "Your _real_ name." He said, holding up the PDA. "I want to check something. Don't worry kid, you can trust me." Ughhhh... "Blathnat." She said, forcing it out, really. The man looked down at the PDA and began typing something into the keypad. After a moment, he saw a matched profile come up for the name "Blathnat". He stared at the picture of Sugar, before he slowly raised his head again. That haunting smile was etched across his face once more. "I'm Frank." He said, standing up, looking down at Sugar. "Franklin St. Jopling. Now, are... are you _sure_ you haven't seen this man anywhere, _Sugar_? Because he's... a _very, very bad man_. And I need to find him so _nothing bad happens_." That smile... It wasn't friendly. It looked almost exactly like a _villain's_ smile. If Frank's goal was to unnerve Sugar, then he did it. She took a step back with her prosthetic leg, and kept her eyes on Frank at all times. "Yes, I'm sure...." She wasn't sure if the person he was looking for was bad, merely because she thinks that he's a _very, very bad man_. Frank took a step forward and said, "Are you _absolutely sure, sweety_?" "Yes... just leave me alone." Sugar whimpered as she took another step back away from Frank. She didn't know why this scary man was bothering her so much! She just wanted some cotton candy and would head back to Shannon! All this harassment was getting her stressed. Frank's brow (or lack thereof) furled a bit as he crouched and said, "Oh, sweety, no..." He stopped advancing towards Sugar and said, "Okay, okay. You haven't seen him. But listen..." He brought his hand up and motioned for Sugar to approach him, as if to whisper a secret to her. What did the scary man want to tell her? Is this a trick. She didn't know... but if Sir Reginald hasn't told her otherwise, then, then... maybe Mr. Frank is telling her something important. Or maybe he'll finally go away. "Uh, sure..." Sugar took a few step forward, slowly, she was going to make sure that she'd be ready to run should he pull something on the princess. "If you do see him..." Frank said in a hush tone, "Don't tell anyone else. Come straight to me, okay?" "Okay." That was a lie. Sugar didn't want anything else to do with this man. Even if she did see Frank's target, she wasn't going to say anything. Frank stood up, keeping that horrible smile going. "Now." He said, nodding, "You said you wanted some cotton candy? Want me to buy you some?" "Uh..." Sugar looked away. "I don't want any." She didn't trust Frank, in fact, all she wanted to do was get away from him. Frank paused for a moment, before simply replying, "Okay, sweety." He patted Sugar's head before turning and walking away. As he disappeared into the crowd, Sugar sighed out of relief seeing that he was finally gone. Just for good measure, she contacted Sir Reginald... who scanned the crowd's mind until he found Frank, and noticed that his signature was heading away from Sugar - along with his thoughts telling him that his search is going elsewhere. Now, she needed to find Harmon. "Hey, it's okay," Sugar turned around, and raised the cloth to look inside. She telepathically urged Reginald to keep an eye on her. "He's gone now. You can come out." The cowering Harmon, still shaking in fear of the percieved threat that Reginald presented, slowly turned his head towards Sugar. He took the camera out of his front pocket and aimed it at her, seeing the young girl looking down at him. She... she didn't seem to harbor any ill intent. And there was this apparent... link, between her and the _thing_ that eased his worries some. He slowly crawled out from under the curtain and stood up, looking around for any immediate sign of Frank. But, fortunately, he was gone. His camera swayed a bit until he focused it back on Sugar. His scarf had loosened a bit, revealing his lack of eyes, a nose, and ears. And his horrible cracked lips. The same as the picture spelled out. "Th-..." Harmon muttered, huddling a bit. "Th-thank... thank, you..." Now that Sugar got a good look at him... he was the person that the scary man was looking for. White skin, no eyes... yes, he's exactly the thing that Frank was looking for. But, unlike Frank, she saw something else in Harmon. She didn't see him as a bad man. If he had people like Frank looking for him, then Sugar figured that he was misunderstood because of his looks. He was like... The Hunchback. Reviled because of the way he looked, but sweet inside. "You don't have to worry about that scary man anymore," Sugar assured him, "I'll keep you safe." Harmon nodded. He'd gotten separated from Lenny in this crowd, but... this girl, she knew what she was talking about. But that thing hovering over her... "Th-the..." Harmon stuttered, "The... being... above, you? You..." Actually, she was wondering why Harmon could see Sir Reginald. As far as she could tell, no one could see Sir Reginald but her. He was her invisible guardian, but if Harmon could see him, then perhaps he could be a closer friend than she thought. "He's a friend, Sir Reginald." She then looked up at him, "Say hi." Sir Reginald didn't say anything. "My name is Sugar, what's your name?" "H-... H-Har... Harmon..." Harmon replied, still a little shaken. "Harmon... R-... Rottlage..." He paused for a minute, scanning the area with his camera. "Looking..." He continued, "Loooking for... other, other friend... here... lost... separated... can't, can't find..." Aw, he's just looking for his friend. The heroic resolve inside Sugar intensified. "Harmon," That's a strange name - well, no stranger than Sugar's own name, actually. "I'll help you find your friend, Sir Reginald can find anything, just... come with me." Sugar grabbed Harmon by the wrist. She looked up at Sir Reginald and nodded. She relayed the command, "_Keep an eye out for his friend, please._" Sir Reginald complied. Harmon quickly wrapped his scarf around his face once more and readjusted his boonie, concealing himself. And he let Sugar and... Reginald... lead him away. Hopefully, to somewhere safe. Hopefully, to Lenny.

### Selena Chilver Selena let a wry little grin tug at the edges of her chapped lips. Ah, Eva liked it. Sure, the gift didn't really mean much to her, but still, she liked making her little sister happy. Selena didn't get to see their cousins-or her father or uncle-a whole lot, so she had a soft spot for Eva. Not to mention, well...with Mom out the picture, and no girl cousins...Eva was the only girl friend that Selena really had. Only person who could make sense of how to dress and whatnot. Sure, the rest of her family had done a great job raising her-Selena could shoot a rifle like nobody's business, knew how to do all the important stuff, but when it came to dealing with guys, clothes, some of the more nuanced social conventions, well, Selena was at a loss. And Selena didn't like being at a loss, or anything that was within pissing distance of loss. Selena took off her boggin and shook out her hair for a minute. She had a somewhat strange blend of regular hair and dreadlocks (she added another dread for each momentous kill-small game like rabbits or turkeys wouldn't cut it. Had to be something special), which made maintaining her hair, ah, a bitch. Plus it felt kinda weird sometimes. And made barbers cry. But the number of fucks that Selena gave could be counted on the appendages of quadruple amputees. Selena ran a hand through her hair-which was, at the moment, a dirty blonde, caught in the halfway-place between the poles of the lunar cycle. She slipped the boggin back on over her ears and turned back to her sister. "Food, yeah," Selena agreed, although she wriggled free of Eva's grip. _You afraid of losin' me in this crowd, little sis?_ Selena wasn't paying too close attention when the smoker drifted by. Eva's yelp kicked her into action-something cold and impersonal, but at the same time furious and bristling with energy, began to settle across Selena's features. Her eyes dilated and her fingers danced into knuckles. Deep breath. Cigarette smoke. Harms Eva. Too many scents to count. Like trying to have a conversation in a concert. Lots of sights. More colors, now, than there had been a moment before. Barely picked up the rat at Eva's feet. Part of her, some strange, macabre part, just wanted to crush the son of a bitch, but she silenced that part quickly. Selena moved to push Eva out of the way, shield her from any more smoke (_protect your kin_) , but Snow White's little friends had already taken care of the bastard for her. Selena knelt down as he fell at her feet and gave him a smile. "Buddy," Selena chided, looking down at the upside-down, thoroughly-confused smoker. "You know the health risks with those things, don't you? They greatly increase your chances of pissing me the hell off. Scram. Don't smoke near her." Selena saw no reason to kick this guy's ass or anything. After all, it had admittedly been an accident,and unless he tried to do it intentionally or something, she had no real reason to. No point in getting kicked out of another Christmas Festival. No, wait, that had been a Hannukkah Festival. Heh. She was back on speaking terms with the fire department now, at any rate. Selena stepped over him (letting her boot come uncomfortably close to his groin as she did so) and moved to her sister, placing a bracing arm around her and brushing some of the hair out of her face. "Hey. You good?"

## Jago Andrew Javuant [Gorillaz - Doncamatic (Jokerz Remix)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPmW58Bv7kg) --- Another boring ass evening at the Fair. Well, could be worse, Debby could be watching him like a hawk while she talks to her boring ass friends. But that was besides the point, baby! Jago needed something to drink. Because he's always thirsty as he didn't know what. Thank God this place had some working vending machines. There was even one two steps away from him. The boy scurried his way over towards it, and took a little gander inside. There was everyone he could drink. Juice! Gatorade! Soda! Drinks, drinks, and more drinks! Hmmmm... He had money on him, but he could also use his telekinetic nonsense to grab him something. That might piss off NEST, but they can't see everything, can they? Well, he figured that he might as well find out. If they _do_ decide to give him some problems, then he'll just show them just _why_ they haven't caught his ass yet. He's quick as hell on his feet, and an even quicker thinker. Besiiiiiiiides. Jago firmly pressed his leg hand against the vending machine, and turned his head both sides. How the hell does NEST expect to catch _anyone_ in a bigass crowd like this? All someone has to do is run into one, then run out the other end into an alleyway or something. That'd what Jago do. His right hand started glowing dark-purple as he eyeballed a bottle of Pepsi. He gestured for it to move by raising a finger, and lo and behold, the thing started floating. A wolfy smile found it's way onto his lips. He did the same gesture again - except he bent his finger more towards him into a curl, then uncurled it, then did the same thing over and over again. Before the aura, around his hand and the bottle, disappeared, and the bottle dropped into reach of the slot. Immediately, Jago threw his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning his body around halfway, and started loudly whistling. His eyes turned starward. In a sudden movement, he quickly reached in, hand a blur, and grabbed the bottle of Pepsi. Quick as that, Jago jogged off away from the vending machine, biting the tip of the soda bottle and twisting it with his other hand. Letting the refreshing contents poor into his mouth as he ran away from the scene of the crime. His dreadlocks blew in the wind as his stride slowed itself down a bit until he came to a complete stop. Jago looked over his shoulder - and nice, no NEST Agents or police! Either those fuckers are blind, or there's just _too_ much to watch. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter, because long as Jago stays the hell out of a holding cell, literally no one cares what he does. Well, looks like he's gonna need to do something lest he gets bored and go do something else stupid. But before he could do something, some man started screaming like a little bitch. It was sudden, and startling enough that Jago jolted, and his head turned towards the sour- Bitch, totally a bitch if you scream like that - screaming. What Jago didn't expect was a fucking seagull coming down on his fucking face! Haha! The universe must hate his ass! A wide grin had found itself on Jago's face. Wait... Jago's grin turned upside down as he said to himself, "Hm... that ain't right, now is it?" He eyeballed the rat in particular... Like, well. One thing you _have_ to learn while living in Black Fall (Or your ass ain't gonna last long, period) is that anything weird (And Jago meant _anything_) that goes down in this city is the result of a Meta-human. Jago wasn't the most observant person - he couldn't connect the dots too well, that was Debby's job - but it was like the rat and that flying rat were enthralled or something. Because unless you got some nasty ass funnel cake, they more afraid of you than you are of them. But the difference between brother and sister came when Jago realized: he didn't give a fuck, baby. If... whoever the hell did that, wants to get bagged by NEST, then, well, that isn't his problem. Once again, what _is_ the young Javuant's problem is his own interests... Jago eyeballed two blonde haired dames who weren't too far away from that bastard when he got raped by nature. Jago moved in - for a closer look of course. Hands in his pockets, taking slow steps through the crowds, and catching in a few glances while they weren't paying attention. Until Jago had got far behind them. Ooooooooooh, they definitely sisters. No lie. They looked _too_ similar too be anything _but_ sisters. Oh yeah, they were tall, as tall as Jago himself he could tell - but, meh. He was going to get _bigger_. Blondies... good looking, but looked a little tomboyish. Not that Jago would mind! Tomboys meant a little excitement, at least! That they weren't some spoiled little "princesses" that need daddy to fulfill their every wish. Fuck. That. Though if he had to be completely honest with himself; they both looked like knock off Taylor Swifts. One of them had goddamn dreads in their hair. Dreads! It looked fucking ridiculous with that god damn flowing hair. Only Jago could pull off dreads, and boy they were a bitch to maintain - but that  was besides the point! Bitch looked silly with those dreads. That meant Jago was going to slap some insulting on her ass and ignore her. Uh... Something with Taylor Swift. Discount Taylor Swift? Rasta Swift? No - _Redneck_ Taylor Swift was the way to go. Uhh... He'd call the other chick Discount Taylor Swift if she gets on his nerves. Time to show them the Javuant's inherent ability to woo women! Though, he needs a little something... uh. A flower? Bitches love flowers, but Jago doesn't have the power to pull flowers out his ass. Hm... Jago looked around - Ah! Jago eyed a couple, two white people, both blond(e) and had blue eyes. Jago raised an eyebrow. He would be questioning if they're into brother/sister-fucking, but the man had a banquet of flowers - Roses! Bitches go _crazy_ over roses. Here came a problem. Jago wanted a rose, and he doubted he could get one by asking nicely, and interrupting their romantic moment. So, time to take the direct route. He smirked as he took one last sip of his Pepsi, draining that bitch to the last drop. He just released his grip on it, and dropped it. Zero fucks given about the environment. Jago had a plan, and it was simple: get a fucking rose. He started running towards the two, picking up as much speed as his long legs would allow him to. Why? He simply ran into the guy and knocked him over on his side, sending the flowers all over the boardwalk. Girly girl screamed bloody murder. Jago? Oh, well. He kinda hit him pretty damn hard, fortunately, he didn't hit his head or anything. Still, his chest was in _paaaaaaaaaain_. A burning pain that he felt consume his arm too. But would he really call himself a good man if he let a little pain slow him down? Pttf. He felt worse. He been through _worse_. But he needed to put the next part of his "plan" in action... "Oh, shit!" Jago shouted, holding his head, and trying to look hurt. "I didn't mean to- aw fuck!" "Watch where you're going, you dumbass kid!" Jago resisted the urge to dick with him further for that comment - but, hey, Jago will forget about this guy by the time he walks away. "Aww... I'm sorry, here let me help you!" Jago immediately dropped to his knee and made it look like he was helping them. But the first thing he did was grab a rose and threw it in one of the pockets inside of his jacket. Before he quickly snatched up the rest of the roses and held them in one hand - aw fuck, he thinks one pricked him. Aw, fucker. Whatever. That's why they have them in those plastic wraps or whatever. Jago can take the pain. The dude snatched them out of his hand, put them back in his ugly-ass banquet, then stormed off with his girly friend. Jago smiled and waved goodbye - but it was totally to mock his ass. Because the dumbass got played so hard right now! Like a wiseman once said: _hook, line, & sinker_. It almost made Jago shed a tear... he's going to be telling his grandchildren all about his adventures. But he got what he wanted. A nice red rose. Time to impress mi'ladies with it. He walked right through the crowd and approached the two women. "Heya ladies," Jago said while a cool, confident, smile on his face. "Thought you two looked a little lonely, so I thought I'd come by and fix that." He laughed a little, while facing Eva. He presented her with the rose, holding it by the very end (And pricking his thumb, ow!). "But first, a rose for you." Oh boy! Time to make good use of that rose. He didn't literally run into some no-name for nothing! Hopefully Redneck Taylor Swift won't raise too much of a fuss. Or that they're actually into sister-fucking. That'd be really nasty.

## Lenny Boggs, Harmon Rottlage, Shannon, & Blathnat "Sugar" Balore. --- Lenny wasn't running through the crowds -- He was sprinting. For all his clumsiness, he was surprisingly adept at making his way through a crowd. He owed it to his skinny frame, and hours spent playing Mirror's Edge. It seemed like hours since he had last seen Harmon, and his eyes scanned around the crowds left and right, as quickly as he could. There he was. He stood at the front of a line, fumbling through the pockets of Creed's jacket, which seemed almost comically oversized on him. "I-I-I, I..." Harmon was stuttering incoherently, keeping his head down and face concealed. "This, this, a-a-all... can, can, you? You..." He held out a bill with his arm almost fully extended, shaking it lightly at the cotton candy vendor. Lenny cringed, remembering that he had given Harmon Creed's jacket, which was usually filled with money, whereas his own usually held wrappers and lint. Damn it, Lenny. He thought to himself. Woulda came in handy to pay for a hotel room. As Lenny made his way towards Harmon, he noticed something. Harmon wasn't alone. There was a small girl, no older than six or seven, tugging at the bottom of his hoodie. Yay! Sugar had been waiting for this all night! Some simple cotton candy. She knew making friends with Harmon would pay off. Though, he seemed a little shy. Why? He gives out sweet stuff! Who would be afraid of _him_? "Foundja." Lenny said, panting. "Been racing around the fair looking for you, and," He paused, pointing almost accusingly at the small girl next to Harmon. "Your new ginger buddy." He meant it teasingly, but his joking was a thinly-veiled attempt at hiding his fear. Where, and why, was Harmon with this kid? "She, she..." Harmon said in a hush, "Frank... found, she... helped... him, he, he... left... safe? Safe..." Lenny nodded, understanding perfectly. Harmon needed to get away from Frank, and he did. Whether or not this girl was running from Frank too, didn't matter to Lenny. He knew his friend was running from someone, and the girl seemed to be on a similar wavelength. Lenny exhaled, putting on his sweetest face, and turned to Sugar. "Hey kiddo, could you help us find your mom?" Who's this? Sugar immediately turned her head towards this newcomer... Slender, red-haired (Like herself!), and... Sugar didn't really pay too much more attention to him. There was that telepathic presence being pushed into her head. Sir Reginald had told her that he had meant her no harm - in fact, he was merely looking for Harom. His friend! Did that mean the three of them could be friends too!? Hm... Sugar didn't know. Lenny looked a little silly to her. Teeheehee. Where Harmon was the Hunchback, Lenny was The Fool. He _looked_ like one actually. But, he asked about her mommy... Well... Cassidy wasn't here right now. She was drinking that funny-tasting stuff a lot lately and acting weird. But Sugar was going to tell Lenny the simple version. She shook her head from left to right, and said, "My Mom isn't here. I'm here with my sister." Lenny shrugged, no stranger to parental abandonment himself. "Do you wanna help us look for your sister? What does she look like?" He didn't know how to talk to a child, so instead, he mostly tried to attempt a combination of his earliest memories of his Mema, and Steve from Blue's Clues. "Oh!" Sugar raised a finger as she stated, "_Sir Reginald_ can find her for us." She nodded her head and looked up at Sir Reginald, still floating above her in his transparent form. She sent the message to him, "_Find Shannon for us, please!_" And like a dog, he complied with his mistress's commands. He floated back towards where Shannon was last seen (Because his memory was far superior to hers, due to not being bogged down with insignificant things). She brought her hand to her shoulder, palms out, and swiped it forward in a gesture for them to follow her. "C'mon!" Sugar said as she pressed off her prosthetic leg and began a short stride after Sir Reginald. Moving through the crowds. Lenny shrugged, leading Harmon with him. They blended in fairly easily, with Harmon wearing what could be considered appropriate for the weather, and Sugar and Lenny both believably related. If Harmon could've been found by any toddler, Lenny was glad it was one who looked just as Weasley-esque as he did. They zig-zagged through the crowds of people, forming a neat little line. Although Sir Reginald lead from above, Lenny held Sugar's hand and pushed through the crowds where it was too thick for her tiny frame to be noticed, and held onto Harmon with the other. "Comin' through. Pardon me. Sorry. Comin' through. 'Scuse me. Make a path." Lenny muttered to himself, trying to keep some semblance of manners with him. "Pardon me. 'Coooomin through. Sorry. Pardon me." Eventually, they found themselves in a clearing in the crowd. --- Oh, what great timing. Jack has decided to make his (rather unexpected) appearance in the Fair. Shannon put her legs further apart, and crossed her arms. Admittantly, Jack was an acquaintance of hers - despite being criminal scum. But that didn't matter to Shannon. Long as he kept her out of his "carreer" then everything will be kittens and sunshine. He has money. And right now money is in high demand. So she loans her talents to make him clothes, then he repays her handsomely. But enough about their relations, the task at hand was his appearance, and asking her what's the matter in a rather (unappreciated) flirtatious tone. She was willing to ignore that long as he kept it to himself. "No, Jack," Shannon used one hand to adjust her glasses, "Sugar wandered off while I wasn't looking. I... Don't know..." She put her fingertips onto the sides of her forehead and took two large steps away from Jack. Jesus, she was worried sick about Blathnat. While she is a Meta-human, she's still eight. There's no way she could handle a real threat once i-. "Heyyy," Lenny said, awkwardly poking Shannon the the back of the shoulder. He wasn't sure how to initiate conversation with a stranger. "Is, uh, she, yours?" What? Shannon immediately turned around and saw a lanky kid, around her height (But Sugar had a "wider" build than him). But who.... "She said you're her sister, so I wanted to make su-" "Hey Shannon." Sugar nonchalantly said as she stepped around Lenny and stood at his side. With cotton candy in hand, she took a bite out of it (And crime). "Blathnat!" Shannon slammed her mouth close and grinded her teeth together. This was bloody irresponsible. She left to get some damn _cotton candy_?! That was something Shannon could have gotten for her. This was... this.... "Blathnat, why did you run off like that!? Don't you know that was dangerous!?" Shannon immediately snarled at Sugar. "It's _Sugar_!" Blathnat was quick to reply, slamming her foot onto the ground - which really really hurt her leg. She buckled over to the side and started gracing it with a hand. Maybe she should take good care of this leg since it's, you know, her only leg. But once she regained her composure, stood straight up, Sugar's head darted to the left, as she looked rather awkward. "I... Wanted some cotton candy...." "I could have gotten you some, if you hadn't stormed off!" Shannon was quick to retort. She let out a loud sigh and shook her head. "Just... never do that again, okay?" She was being a little hard on the child... who didn't know any better, honestly. Shannon knew that more than anyone else. Yelling at her wouldn't fix anything, really. "Okay." Sugar nodded her head. "But look," She took a step away from Lenny and pointed at him, "I made friends." Now. Now it was time to address her new "friends". This child sometimes... overly trusting. But, this boy had helped Sugar find her way back to Shannon. Maybe that trust was well placed? Never. Shannon turned towards him and shrugged, "I believe I should be thanking you for getting Sugar back to me." She closed her eyes and let her face drop downwards. "I'm _Shannon Balore_, you?" "Boggs." Lenny said, trying to sound cool. "Lenny Boggs. This is my brother, Harry." He said, keeping unbroken eye contact with Shannon the entire time. He was many things, but he wasn't a liar. Nor was he someone who could think on their feet. "No need to thank us, just looking out for my fellow gingers, heh." Lenny tried to seem cool and collected, which he rarely was. In that moment, he had an idea. "Hey, this might sound kinda weird, but, do you think I could ask a favor of you?" That ginger comment almost made Shannon hurl... but fortunately, she was _used to it_. The Boggs family? Hm. What was this favor? She hoped it wasn't anything perverted or she would immediately break _many_ NEST laws. And Lenny's balls. Especially the balls. "Hmmm... What is it?" She crossed her arms. "Hey, so, me and my brother kind of need a place to crash for the night. Do you think you have maybe a garage, or a shed, or something?" He asked, looking as pathetic as he could be. (It wasn't hard) Harmon, on the other hand, kept his head down and hands folded together, shaking just a bit less than usual. Lenny nudged him in an effort to get him to keep his cool. ... Of course, of course, of course... Shannon sneered. They probably only helped Sugar so they could get a place to sleep. They don't care about Sugar _at all_. All good deeds are never done for free, now are they? "... And why would I do that? You two are complete strangers to me." It was quick how she went from somewhat thankful to annoyed quick. "Okay, good point." Lenny paused for a second, trying desperately to think of a good reason. Ultimately, he went with the truth. "I'm running away from my older brother." He pointed to himself for a moment. "Lenny Boggs." Then, he pointed to Harmon. "Harry Boggs." Finally, he gestured towards her. "Please, just google Creedence Boggs on your phone. Please." And here comes the sobstory stage... Well, Shannon might as well entertain their little game before blowing them off. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She scrolled down and googled the man Lenny spoke of - If he has his own wikipedia page, then he must be important! "Creedence C. Boggs is a leader in the white power skinhead movement in the United States. He gained public notoriety for his interview in the 2011 documentary "Fascists in America". In 2008, he became elected leader of "The Iron Eagles", a social club and suspected hate group in Black Fall, Pennsylvania." Now this... Shannon looked up at Lenny, then back down at her phone. The Iron Eagles. She had heard about them all right. Another horror story to come out of the Dead End, and the sole reason why Shannon would never willingly head into the Dead End. If Creed is his brother then.... She didn't know. She hung her head. "...I need to consult somebody. Then I'll see about arranging a "sleep over" with you two." The person she wanted to ask was Deborah. Her Cerebral abilities were unmatched in the information gathering field. If there was anything off about these two, she'd find out. If Lenny was as big of a Nazi as his brother, then, well, he isn't coming anywhere near Shannon's household. She despised such groups for hating people for something insigificant as skin color, or heritage. It was something stupid. Something that needed to be removed like a cancer. Shannon pressed a few buttons on her phone and sent a text to Deborah: _I need to meet with you now. Can we meet up by the waterfront?_ Before she pressed the lock button on her phone and put it away.